A jolly butchèr, with a bonny fine mare,
With his flesh to the market did hye. {176}
Good morrow, good fellow, said jolly Robìn,
What food hast [thou], tell unto me ?
Thy trade to me tell, and where thou dost dwell,
For I like well thy company.
The butcher he answer’d jolly Robìn,
No matter where I dwell ;
For a butcher I am, and to Nottingham
I am going, my flesh to sell.