XVI
‘Lie still, lie still, thou little Musgrave,
And huggle me from the cold;
’Tis nothing but a shepherd’s boy
A-driving his sheep to the fold.’
XVII
By this, Lord Barnard came to his door
And lighted a stone upon;
And he’s pull’d out three silver keys,
And open’d the doors each one.
XVIII
He lifted up the coverlet,
He lifted up the sheet:
‘Dost thou like my bed, Little Musgrave?
Dost thou find my lady sweet?’—
XIX
‘I find her sweet,’ quoth Little Musgrave,
‘The more ’tis to my pain;
I would gladly give three hundred pounds
That I were on yonder plain.’—
XX
‘Arise, arise, thou Little Musgrave,
And put thy clothès on;
It shall ne’er be said in my country
I have kill’d a naked man.