Now this old man went far from home, And left his old wife to stay at home, Tweedily, tweedily, twee.
Now this old man came home at last, And found his door and windows fast, Tweedily, tweedily, twee.
Ah, I've bin sick whilst you've gone, If you'd bin in the garden you could've heard me groan. Tweedily, tweedily, twee.
An I'm sorry for that, cries he; An I'm sorry for that, cries he; Tweedily, tweedily, twee.
Then pluck me an apple from yonder tree, That will I willingly do, cries he; That will I willingly do, cries he; Tweedily, tweedily, twee.
Pop goes the ladder, and down goes he, An that's cleverly done, cries she; An that's cleverly done, cries she; Tweedily, tweedily, twee.
When shall we be married, Willy, my pretty lad? To-morrow if you think it fit. Not before to-morrow, Willy, my pretty lad? Would you have me be married to-night? I should think the girl was mad.
What shall we have for dinner, Willy, my pretty lad? Roast beef and plum pudding if you think it fit. Shan't we have anything else, Willy, my pretty lad? Would you have me to spend all my money? I should think the girl was mad.
Who shall we have to dinner, Willy, my pretty lad? Father and mother, if you think it fit. Shan't we have anyone else, Willy, my pretty lad? Would you have me ask the king and queen? I should think the girl was mad.
My sweetheart, come along, Don't you hear the fond song, The sweet notes of the nightingale flow? Don't you hear the fond tale Of the sweet nightingale, As she sings in the valley below?
Pretty Betty, don't fail, For I'll carry your pail Safe home to your cot as we go; You shall hear the fond tale Of a sweet nightingale, As she sings in the valley below.
Pray let me alone, I have hands of my own, Along with you, Sir, I'll not go, To hear the fond tale Of the sweet nightingale, As she sings in the valley below.
Pray sit yourself down With me on the ground, On this bank where the primroses grow; You shall hear the fond tale Of the sweet nightingale, As she sings in the valley below.
The couple agreed, And were married with speed, And soon to the church did they go; No more is she afraid For to walk in the shade, Nor sit in those valleys below.
WHEREIN IS SHEWED HIS DISSOLUTE LIFE AND DESERVED DEATH.
