"Ah, Marianson, my lady fair,
Where are your golden rings so rare?"
"In the iron chest, beside my bed,
You'll find the rings," she sadly said.
He has ta'en the keys with an evil grace,
And has found the rings in their hiding place.
"Ah, Marianson, my lady fair,
You shall have the best chirurgeon's care."
"The best chirurgeon I would crave
Is a fine white sheet for my quiet grave."
"Ah, Marianson, my beauteous dame,
Will God e'er pardon all my shame?"
"My death is pardoned now," she smiled,
"But never that of our helpless child."
