Though long, yet loe! at last,
The appointed day was come,
That I must with my Sarah meet; 135
[Having a mighty sum]
Of money in my hand,
Unto her house went I,
Whereas my love upon her bed
In saddest sort did lye. 140
"What ails my heart's delight,
My Sarah dear?" quoth I;
"Let not my love lament and grieve,
Nor sighing pine and die.
"But tell me, dearest friend, 145
What may thy woes amend,
And thou shalt lack no means of help,
Though forty pound I spend."
With that she turn'd her head,
And sickly thus did say: 150
"Oh me, sweet George, my grief is great;
Ten pound I have to pay
Unto a cruel wretch;
And God he knows," quoth she,
"I have it not." "Tush, rise," I said, 155
"And take it here of me.
"Ten pounds, nor ten times ten,
Shall make my love decay;"
Then from my bag into her lap,
I cast ten pound straightway. 160
All blithe and pleasant then,
To banqueting we go;
She proffered me to lye with her,
And said it should be so.
And after that same time, 165
I gave her store of coyn,
Yea, sometimes fifty pound at once;
All which I did purloyn.
And thus I did pass on;
Until my master then 170
Did call to have his reckoning in
Cast up among his men.