Good Barnwell, then quoth she, Do thou to Shoreditch come, And ask for Mrs. Millwood's house, 35 Next door unto the Gun.
And trust me on my truth, If thou keep touch with me, My dearest friend, as my own heart Thou shall right welcome be. 40
Thus parted we in peace, And home I passed right; Then went abroad, and gathered in, By six o'clock at night,
An hundred pound and one: 45 With bag under my arm I went to Mrs. Millwood's house, And thought on little harm;
And knocking at the door, Straightway herself came down; 50 Rustling in most brave attire, With hood and silken gown.
Who, through her beauty bright, So gloriously did shine, That she amaz'd my dazzling eyes, 55 She seemed so divine.
She took me by the hand, And with a modest grace, Welcome, sweet Barnwell, then quoth she, Unto this homely place. 60
And since I have thee found As good as thy word to be: A homely supper, ere we part, Thou shalt take here with me.
O pardon me, quoth I, 65 Fair mistress, I you pray; For why, out of my master's house, So long I dare not stay.
Alas, good Sir, she said, Are you so strictly ty'd, 70 You may not with your dearest friend One hour or two abide?
Faith, then the case is hard: If it be so, quoth she, I would I were a prentice bound, 75 To live along with thee:
Therefore, my dearest George, List well what I shall say, And do not blame a woman much, Her fancy to bewray. 80
Let not affection's force Be counted lewd desire; Nor think it not immodesty, I should thy love require.
With that she turn'd aside, 85 And with a blushing red, A mournful motion she bewray'd By hanging down her head.
A handkerchief she had, All wrought with silk and gold: 90 Which she to stay her trickling tears Before her eyes did hold.
This thing unto my sight Was wondrous rare and strange; And in my soul and inward thought 95 It wrought a sudden change:
That I so hardy grew, To take her by the hand: Saying, Sweet mistress, why do you So dull and pensive stand? 100
Call me no mistress now, But Sarah, thy true friend, Thy servant, Millwood, honouring thee, Until her life hath end.
If thou wouldst here alledge, 105 Thou art in years a boy; So was Adonis, yet was he Fair Venus' only joy.
Thus I, who ne'er before Of woman found such grace, 110 But seeing now so fair a dame Give me a kind embrace,
