17 'You took your filliting off your head,
And there you bound us, hand to leg.
18 'You had a penknife long and sharp,
And there you stuck us to the heart.
19 'You dug a grave, it was long and deep,
And there you laid us in to sleep.
20 'The coldest earth it was our bed,
The green grass was our coverlid.
21 'O mother, mother, for your sin
Heaven-gate you shall not enter in.
22 'O mother, mother, for your sin
Hell-gates stands open to let you in.'
23 The lady's cheeks lookd pale and wan,
'Alass I,' said she, 'what have I done!'
24 She tore her silken locks of hair,
And dy'd away in sad despair.
25 Young ladies all, of beauty bright,
Take warning by her last good-night.
The Duke's Daughter's Cruelty, or, The Wonderful Apparition of two Infants who she murtherd and buried in a Forrest for to hide her Shame. Printed for J. Deacon at the Sign of the Angel in Guil[t]-spur Street.