But it maketh him weary, i’fegs,
To have three lovely women about him,
And only a couple of legs.
With one I must walk of a morning;
At eve with another I rove;
And a third comes at noontide, and drags me
Right out of my quarters, by Jove!
Farewell, irresistible sirens!
I have but two legs of my own;
Henceforth in some rural seclusion