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Said he, Love be contented,
let no more now be said,
And do not let my father know,
next Sunday we’ll be wed.
But mark what cruel fortune,
their ruin seem’d to force,
The old man in the corner,
he heard their whole discourse.
Next day he call’d the chambermaid,
likewise the youth his son,
And with a smile he seem’d to look,
and thus he did begin.
He said, I wish you both much joy,
you’re to be wed on Sunday,
But I would have you rul’d by me,
and put it off till Monday;
'Twill be but one day longer.
With that he left outright;
But I’m resolv’d to part you both,
for fear it be this night.
He paid the girl her wages,
and home he straight her sent;
He confin'd his son in his chamber,
in tears for to lament.
