The BURGOMASTER.
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HERE you may see the turns of faith,
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From woe to joy, from grief 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 of old,
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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'd have laugh'd to seen his dress.
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His shoes with trudging up and down,
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No soles they had, his 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 scabbard, 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 fortune may enlarge,
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I am persuaded I shall be,
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A burgomaster, sir, said he,
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Of Venice, if you'll let me go,
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His captain laughing, answer'd no.
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With you, said he, I will not part,
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Then thought the soldier, he'd desert
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His colours, let what will befall,
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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 worthy knight,
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Upon the road by chance he found,
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And ask'd to borrow full five pounds.
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At this the knight laugh'd out amain.
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And said when will you pay't again,
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He answer'd sir, you shall be paid,
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When I am burgomaster 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 palaces, rich and gay,
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And to the burgo's took his way.
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Who kept a house to entertain,
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All kinds 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 jovial blade,
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Whilst 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 to sleep, he overheard,
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Their private talk as it appear'd.
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Part of their 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 that he'd 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 strait she let him in,
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The pleasant game did soon begin,
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And 'ere an hour's space was past,
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Her love, the squire came at last.
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He knock'd, who's that? the lady cry'd
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The soldier lying by her side.
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Said, 'tis that ragged fellow sure,
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Who seem'd as if he slept secure,
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He heard us, and is come to have,
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The pleasure that thy love did crave,
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But 'tis in vain, for I will rise,
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And with the piss-pot blind his eyes.
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According, in a woeful case,
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He dash'd it in the squires face,
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Away he goes and nothing said,
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Supposing that it was the maid.
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She laughed at the pleasant jest,
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And gave him then (amongst 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 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 her, 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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Oh, 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 you shall never want for gold.
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He vow'd he would conceal the same,
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Soon after that 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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She answer'd with a hearty curse,
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'Twas good enough, if it were worse,
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Because you thought to ruin 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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Concerning 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 years,
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No tale or tidings could be heard,
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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 length there was a letter brought,
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The ships was safe, with riches fraught,
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Near to the borders of the land,
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The news came to his daughter's hand.
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Then having view'd & read the same,
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She to the ragged soldier came,
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Saying, he true, my dear, to me,
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Thou shalt a Burgomaster be.
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My father thinks his ships are lost,
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Which are now on the Venice coast,
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Then e'er he doth 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 bou't
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Of four large ships so richly fraught,
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Be what it will, of me you shall,
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Have money for to pay for all.
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Then on her father he did wait,
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And struck a bargain with him straight,
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For the four ships four hundred pounds,
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Whether the same were lost or found.
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No sooner were the writings made,
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And that small sum of money paid,
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But strait he heard the ships were come,
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Their burthen was a mighty sum.
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Then did the burgomaster fret,
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That 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 his daughter for his bride,
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With all my heart then he reply'd,
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Then out of hand they married 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 the grave was laid,
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The son was burgomaster made.
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He that had travell'd many a mile,
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Was now by fortune's special smile,
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Made mighty, powerful, and great,
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And knew no end of 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 this story out,
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These things was strangely brought about
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While he was burgomaster there,
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His former captain did repair,
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Unto his house, and chanc'd to dine,
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With other brave commanders fine.
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The burgomaster seeing that,
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He straight put on his crownless hat,
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With all his other ragged cloaths,
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And so into the room he goes,
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The captain then begun to swear,
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Lieutenant! pray see who is there,
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My ragged burgomaster, who
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In private from his colours flew.
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Then from the presence of his guest,
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He stept away---himself he drest,
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In sumptuous robes he drest amain,
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And then retir'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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Endow'd with neither wit nor sense,
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I'll hang him e're I go from hence.
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He from his colours did desert,
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Says the burgomaster 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 burgomaster said behold,
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I am the man, and now alas,
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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 that he'd known as much before,
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It should have cost him ten times more.
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At length within a month or less,
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The knight which once he did address,
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To lend him five pounds on the road,
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Come there to take up his abode.
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The burgomaster as before,
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Put on his robes both rent and tore,
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That so 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 here's one owes you five pound
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When do you think the same to get,
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He is no burgomaster 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 dress'd himself in rich array,
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In feathers fine, and rich perfume,
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And so return'd into the room.
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Having discours'd with them a while,
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He told the coachman with a smile,
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As he'd help'd him in time of need,
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He would return it now indeed.
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He gave him five thousand pounds,
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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 of a renowned peer.
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The knight was vexed to the heart,
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That he must with his servant 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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Thus he who once was mean & poor,
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At length enjoy'd 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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