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I
NOW ponder well, you parents dear, | |
| These words which I shall write; | |
| A doleful story you shall hear, | |
| In time brought forth to light. | |
| A gentleman of good account | 5 |
| In Norfolk dwelt of late, | |
| Who did in honour far surmount | |
| Most men of his estate. | |
| |
II
Sore sick he was and like to die, | |
| No help his life could save; | 10 |
| His wife by him as sick did lie, | |
| And both possest one grave. | |
| No love between these two was lost, | |
| Each was to other kind; | |
| In love they lived, in love they died, | 15 |
| And left two babes behind: | |
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III
The one a fine and pretty boy | |
| Not passing three years old, | |
| The other a girl more young than he, | |
| And framed in beauty’s mould. | 20 |
| The father left his little son, | |
| As plainly did appear, | |
| When he to perfect age should come, | |
| Three hundred pounds a year; | |
| |
IV
And to his little daughter Jane | 25 |
| Five hundred pounds in gold, | |
| To be paid down on marriage-day, | |
| Which might not be controll’d. | |
| But if the children chanced to die | |
| Ere they to age should come, | 30 |
| Their uncle should possess their wealth; | |
| For so the will did run. | |
| |
V
‘Now, brother,’ said the dying man, | |
| ‘Look to my children dear; | |
| Be good unto my boy and girl, | 35 |
| No friends else have they here: | |
| To God and you I recommend | |
| My children dear this day; | |
| But little while be sure we have | |
| Within this world to stay. | 40 |
| |
VI
‘You must be father and mother both, | |
| And uncle, all in one; | |
| God knows what will become of them | |
| When I am dead and gone.’ | |
| With that bespake their mother dear: | 45 |
| ‘O brother kind,’ quoth she, | |
| ‘You are the man must bring our babes | |
| To wealth or misery! | |
| |
VII
‘And if you keep them carefully, | |
| Then God will you reward; | 50 |
| But if you otherwise should deal, | |
| God will your deeds regard.’ | |
| With lips as cold as any stone, | |
| They kiss’d their children small: | |
| ‘God bless you both, my children dear!’ | 55 |
| With that the tears did fall. | |
| |
VIII
These speeches then their brother spake | |
| To this sick couple there: | |
| ‘The keeping of your little ones, | |
| Sweet sister, do not fear; | 60 |
| God never prosper me nor mine, | |
| Nor aught else that I have, | |
| If I do wrong your children dear | |
| When you are laid in grave!’ | |
| |
IX
The parents being dead and gone, | 65 |
| The children home he takes, | |
| And brings them straight unto his house, | |
| Where much of them he makes. | |
| He had not kept these pretty babes | |
| A twelvemonth and a day, | 70 |
| But, for their wealth, he did devise | |
| To make them both away. | |
| |
X
He bargain’d with two ruffians strong, | |
| Which were of furious mood, | |
| That they should take these children young, | 75 |
| And slay them in a wood. | |
| He told his wife an artful tale: | |
| He would the children send | |
| To be brought up in London town | |
| With one that was his friend. | 80 |
| |
XI
Away then went those pretty babes, | |
| Rejoicing at that tide, | |
| Rejoicing with a merry mind | |
| They should on cock-horse ride. | |
| They prate and prattle pleasantly, | 85 |
| As they ride on the way, | |
| To those that should their butchers be | |
| And work their lives’ decay: | |
| |
XII
So that the pretty speech they had | |
| Made Murder’s heart relent; | 90 |
| And they that undertook the deed | |
| Full sore did now repent. | |
| Yet one of them, more hard of heart, | |
| Did vow to do his charge, | |
| Because the wretch that hirèd him | 95 |
| Had paid him very large. | |
| |
XIII
The other won’t agree thereto, | |
| So here they fall to strife; | |
| With one another they did fight | |
| About the children’s life: | 100 |
| And he that was of mildest mood | |
| Did slay the other there, | |
| Within an unfrequented wood.— | |
| The babes did quake for fear! | |
| |
XIV
He took the children by the hand, | 105 |
| Tears standing in their eye, | |
| And bade them straightway follow him, | |
| And look they did not cry; | |
| And two long miles he led them on, | |
| While they for food complain: | 110 |
| ‘Stay here,’ quoth he; ‘I’ll bring you bread | |
| When I come back again.’ | |
| |
XV
These pretty babes, with hand in hand, | |
| Went wandering up and down; | |
| But never more could see the man | 115 |
| Approaching from the town. | |
| Their pretty lips with blackberries | |
| Were all besmear’d and dyed; | |
| And when they saw the darksome night, | |
| They sat them down and cried. | 120 |
| |
XVI
Thus wander’d these poor innocents, | |
| Till death did end their grief; | |
| In one another’s arms they died, | |
| As wanting due relief: | |
| No burial this pretty pair | 125 |
| From any man receives, | |
| Till Robin Redbreast piously | |
| Did cover them with leaves. | |
| |
XVII
And now the heavy wrath of God | |
| Upon their uncle fell; | 130 |
| Yea, fearful fiends did haunt his house, | |
| His conscience felt an hell: | |
| His barns were fired, his goods consumed, | |
| His lands were barren made, | |
| His cattle died within the field, | 135 |
| And nothing with him stay’d. | |
| |
XVIII
And in a voyage to Portugal | |
| Two of his sons did die; | |
| And, to conclude, himself was brought | |
| To want and misery: | 140 |
| He pawn’d and mortgaged all his land | |
| Ere seven years came about. | |
| And now at last his wicked act | |
| Did by this means come out. | |
| |
XIX
The fellow that did take in hand | 145 |
| These children for to kill, | |
| Was for a robbery judged to die, | |
| Such was God’s blessed will: | |
| Who did confess the very truth, | |
| As here hath been display’d: | 150 |
| The uncle having died in jail, | |
| Where he for debt was laid. | |
| |
XX
You that executors be made, | |
| And overseërs eke, | |
| Of children that be fatherless, | 155 |
| And infants mild and meek, | |
| Take you example by this thing, | |
| And yield to each his right, | |
| Lest God with suchlike misery | |
| Your wicked minds requite. | 160 |
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