The Low-Country Soldier turn'd Burgomaster.
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HERE you may see the turns of fate,
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From woe to joy, from poor to great;
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A mark of fortune's special love,
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Who did a soldier's grief remove
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One who in former days, 'tis told,
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Had trudg'd thro' weather hot and cold.
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'Till he was poor and pennyless,
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You would have laugh'd to've seen his dress.
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His shoes with trudging up and down
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No soles they had; a hat no crown.
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His coat no sleeves; his shirt the same;
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But by his side a sword of fame.
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Without a scaboard good or bad,
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Nor was there any to be had.
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His coat and breeches would not come
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In depth to cover half his bum.
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Now being weary of his trade,
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One day he to his captain said,
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Pray now give me a full discharge,
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That I my fortunes may enlarge.
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I am persuaded I shall be
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A burgo master, sir, said he.
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To Venice if you'll let me go.
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The captain smiling answer'd, No.
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With you, said he, I will not part.
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Then, thought the soldier, I'll desert
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My colours, let what will befal,
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And soon he went for good and all.
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Now as he march'd with all his might
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A coachman and his noble knight
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Upon the road by chance he found,
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And ask'd to borrow full five pound.
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At this the knight laught out amain,
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And said, When will pay it again?
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He answer'd, sir, you shall be paid
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When I am burgo-master made
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Of Venice, which will be my lot.
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The noble knight away he got.
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And laugh'd to see him in that trim.
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But yet the coachman lent it him.
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This being done away he went
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To Venice, where some time he spent
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To view the palace rich and gay,
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And then to Burgo's took his way.
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Who kept a house to entertain
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All kind of guests. He call'd amain
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For wine and other liquors free,
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Tho' in a wretched garb was he.
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THIS soldier was a gallant blade,
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And while in pleasure there he stay'd,
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Behold a 'squire living near
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Courted the burgo's daughter dear.
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Now as he kept her company,
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One day the soldier sitting by,
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Feigning asleep, he overheard
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Their private talk as it appear'd.
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Part of the private talk was this,
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My dear sweet love, the charming bliss
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Let me enjoy this self same night.
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The damsel told him that he might,
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If he would to her chamber creep
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When all the house was fast asleep.
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About the hour of twelve o'clock,
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She would the door for him unlock.
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The soldier heard the whole design,
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Thought he the pleasure shall be mine,
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And thereupon he went before,
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To the young lady's chamber-door.
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He knock'd, and soon she let him in.
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A pleasant game did then begin.
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And ere an hour's time was pa[s]t
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Her love the 'squire came at last.
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He knock'd; Who's there, the lady cry'd?
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The soldier lying by her side
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Said, It is the ragged fellow sure
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Who seem'd as if he slept secure.
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He heard us, and is coma to have
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That pleasure which our love did crave.
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But it's in vain, I will arise,
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And dash the piss-pot in his eyes.
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Accordingly in woeful case
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He dash'd the piss-pot in his face.
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Away he goes and nothing said,
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Supposing it to be the maid.
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She laughed at the pleasant jest,
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And gave him then among the rest
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A diamond-ring with kisses sweet.
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But did not understand the cheat.
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Then he arose, and went his way.
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Behold on the succeeding day,
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Upon his right hand the ring she spy'd.
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Pray where had you the same, she cry'd?
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He answer'd then, and thus he said,
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Pray be not in the least dismay'd;
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For you was loving, kind, and free,
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Last night, and gave the same to me.
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O bless me! did I lie with you?
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Since it is so I pray be true;
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And do not let the same be told,
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So thou shalt never want for gold.
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He vow'd he would conceal the same.
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Soon after this the 'squire came.
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Saying, Why was you so unkind?
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The piss-pot made me almost blind.
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The youthful damsel answer'd thus,
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'Tis good enough if it were worse.
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Because you thought to have ruin'd me,
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My honour and my chastity.
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IN part the third we must return
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Unto a mighty great concern;
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Consisting of some thousand pounds,
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Which the poor soldier's fortune crowns.
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Behold her wealthy father he
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Did send four mighty ships to sea.
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Laden with glorious merchandize,
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Rich silks and other wares likewise.
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They had been gone full seven year,
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No tale or tidings could they hear
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Of them; at length he gave them o'er.
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And never thought to see them more.
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At [l]ength there was a letter brought,
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The ships were safe with riches fraught;
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Near to the borders of the land,
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Which news came to his daughter's hand.
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Then having view'd and read the same,
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She to the ragged soldier came:
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Crying, My dear, be true to me,
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You shall a burgo-master be.
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My father thinks his ships are lost,
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Which now are on the Venice coast.
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And ere he does the tidings hear,
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Go buy his right in them, my dear.
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And when thou hast the bargain bought,
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Of four large ships richly fraught,
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Be what it will of me you shall
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Have money to pay for it all.
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Then on her father he did wait,
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And struck a bargain with him strait,
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For the four ships four hundred pound.
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Whether the same be lost or found.
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No sooner was the bargain made,
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And that small sum of money paid;
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But he heard the ships were come,
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Their burden was a mighty sum.
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Then did the burgo-master fret,
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'Cause he with such a loss had met.
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But since it could no better be,
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He with the soldier did agree
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To take the daughter for his bride,
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With all my heart, he then reply'd.
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Then out of hand they marry'd were,
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The soldier and the lady fair.
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No sooner were they man and wife,
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But strait her father left this life.
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And when he in his grave was laid,
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The son was burgo-master made.
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He that had travell'd many miles,
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Was now by fortune's special smiles
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Made mighty, powerful, and great.
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And knew no end to his estate.
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NOW mind the latter part I pray,
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I make no question but you'll say,
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Still as you read the story out,
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The things were strangely brought about.
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While he was burgo-master there
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His former captain did repair
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Unto his house by chance to dine,
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With other brave commanders fine.
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The burgo-master seeing that
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He strait put on his no-crown'd hat;
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With all his ragged cloaths,
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And so into the room he goes.
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The captain then began to swear,
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Lieutenant, pray see who is there:
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My ragged burgo-master, who
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In private from his colours flew.
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St[r]ait from the presence of his guest,
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He step'd away; himself he drest
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In sumptuous robes he drest amain,
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And then return'd' to them again.
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The captain said, Right worthy sir,
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Here is a foolish ragged cur,
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Endu'd with neither wit nor sense,
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I'll hang him ere I go from hence.
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He from his colours did desert.
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The burgo said, Be not so tart.
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In presence of these gentlemen,
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Write his discharge here's guineas ten.
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He wrote the same, and took the gold.
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The burgo-master said, Behold,
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I am the man, and now at last
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What once I said is come to pass.
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The captain then began to fume,
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And told his gallants in the room,
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If he had known as much before,
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It should have cost him ten times more.
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And then within a month or less,
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The knight who once he did address,
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To lend him five pound on the road,
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Came there to take up his abode.
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The burgo master as before,
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Put on his robes both rent and tore.
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So that the knight might know him strait,
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As he did on his worship wait.
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He to his coachman turn'd him round,
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And said, There's one owes you five pound;
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When do you think the same to get?
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He is not burgo-master yet.
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The coachman said, As I do live,
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I freely do the same forgive;
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Because I to my sorrow see,
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He still remains in poverty.
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For some short time he went away,
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And drest himself in rich array.
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In feather's fine, and rich perfume,
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And so return'd into the room.
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Having discours'd with them awhile,
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He told the coachman with a smile,
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As help'd him in the time of need,
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He would return it now indeed.
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He gave him then five thousand pound,
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Likewise a match for him he found.
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A sweet young lady fair and clear
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Daughter to a renowned peer.
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The knight was vexed to the heart,
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That he must with his coachman part.
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But let him grieve it must be so,
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Whether his lordship will or no.
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Then he who once was mean and poor,
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At length enjoys a happy store;
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Which fortune unto him did send,
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And he prov'd grateful to his friend.
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