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was a sick woman, And afraid that she should dye; Then she sent for two fryars of France, For to speak with them speedily. The King calld down his nobles all, By one, by two, and by three, And sent away for Earl Martial, For to speak with him speedily. When that he came before the King, He fell on his bended knee; A boon, a boon! our gracious king, That you sent so hastily.' 'I'll pawn my living and my lands, My septer and my crown, That whatever Queen Elenor says, I will not write it down. 'Do you put on one fryar's coat, And I'll put on another, And we will to Queen Elenor go, one fryar like another.' Thus both attired then they go; When they came to Whitehall, The bells they did ring, and the quiristers sing, And the torches did light them all. When that they came before the Queen, They fell on their bended knee: 'A boon, a boon! our gracious queen, That you sent so hastily.' 'Are you two fryars of France?' she said, 'Which I suppose you be; But if you are two English fryars, Then hanged you shall be.' 'We are two fryars of France,' they said, 'As you suppose we be; We have not been at any mass Since we came from the sea.' 'The first vile thing that ere I did I will to you unfold; Earl Martial had my maidenhead, Underneath this cloath of gold.' at is a vile sin,' then said the king, 'God may forgive it thee!' 'Amen! Amen!' quoth Earl Martial, With a heavy heart then spoke he. 'The next vile thing that ere I did To you I'll not deny; I made a box of poyson strong, To poyson King Henry.' 'That is a vile sin,' then said the King, 'God may forgive it thee!' 'Amen! Amen!' quoth Earl Martial, 'And I wish it so may be.' 'The next vile thing that ere I did To you I will discover; I poysoned Fair Rosamond, All in fair Woodstock bower.' 'That is a vile sin,' then said the King, 'God may forgive it thee!' 'Amen! Amen!' quoth Earl Martial, 'And I wish it so may be.' 'Do you see yonders little boy, A tossing of that ball? That is Earl Martial['s] eldest son, And I love him the best of all. 'Do you see yonders little boy, A catching of the ball? That is King Henry's son,' she said, 'And I love him the worst of all. 'His head is like unto a bull, His nose is like a boar;' 'No matter for that,' King Henry said, 'I love him the better therefore.' The King pulld of his fryar's coat, And appeard all in red; She shriekd and she cry'd, she wrong her hands, And said she was betrayd. The King lookd over his left shoulder, And a grim look looked he, And said,Earl Martial, but for my oath, Then hanged shouldst thou be. = = queen's sick, an very sick, She's sick an like to die; She has sent for the friars of France, To speak wi her speedilie. 'I'll put on a friar's robe, An ye'll put on anither, An we'll go to Madam the Queen, Like friars bath thegither.' 'God forbid,' said Earl Marishall, 'That ever the like shud be, That I beguile Madam the Queen! I wad be hangit hie.' The King pat on a friar's robe, Earl Marishall on anither; They're on to the Queen, Like friars baith thegither. 'Gin ye be the friars of France, As I trust well ye be-+--+- But an ye be ony ither men, Ye sall be hangit hie.' The King he turnd him roun, An by his troth sware he, We hae na sung messe Sin we came frae the sea. 'The first sin ever I did, An a very great sin 'twas tee, I gae my maidenhead to Earl Marishall, Under the greenwood tree.' 'Trrhat was a sin, an a very great sin, But pardond it may be;' 'Wi mendiment,' said Earl Marishall, But a heavy heart had he. 'The next sin ever I did, An a very great sin 'twas tee, I poisened Lady Rosamond, An the King's darling was she.' 'That was a sin, an a very great sin, But pardond it may be;' 'Wi mendiment,' said King Henry, But a heavy heart had he. 'The next sin ever I did, An a very great sin 'twas tee, I keepit poison in my bosom seven years, To poison him King Henrie.' 'That was a sin, an a very great sin, But pardond it may be;' 'Wi mendiment,' said King Henry, But a heavy heart had he. 'O see na ye yon bonny boys, As they play at the ba? An see na ye Lord Marishal's son? I lee him best of a'. 'But see na ye King Henry's son? He's headit like a bull, and backit like a boar, I like him warst awa:' 'And by my sooth,' says him King Henry, 'I like him best o the twa.' The King he turned him roun, Pat on the coat o goud, . . . . The Queen turnd the King to behold. . . . . . . . . 'Gin I hadna sworn by the crown and sceptre roun, Earl Marishal sud been gart die.' = = Queen's faen sick, and very, very sick, Sick, and going to die, And she's sent for twa friars of France, To speak with her speedilie. The King he said to the Earl Marischal, To the Earl Marischal said he, The Queen she wants twa friars frae France, To speak with her presentlie.