"
With that he twisted his girdle at me like a rope, as who should say,
"Now you may go hang yourself for me!" and so went away.
Well: I thought I should have swoon'd. "Lord!" said I, "what shall I do?
I have lost my money, and shall lose my true love too!"
Then my lord call'd me: "Harry,"[13] said my lord, "don't cry;
I'll give you something toward thy loss." "And," says my lady, "so will
I."
Oh! but, said I, what if, after all, the Chaplain won't come to?
For that, he said (an't please your Excellencies), I must petition you.
The premisses tenderly consider'd, I desire your Excellencies'
protection,
And that I may have a share in next Sunday's collection;
And, over and above, that I may have your Excellencies' letter,
With an order for the Chaplain aforesaid, or, instead of him, a better:
And then your poor petitioner, both night and day,
Or the Chaplain (for 'tis his _trade_,[14]) as in duty bound, shall ever
_pray_.
[Footnote 1: The Earl of Berkeley and the Earl of Galway.]
[Footnote 2: Lady Betty Berkeley, afterwards Germaine.]
[Footnote 3: Wife to one of the footmen.]
[Footnote 4: The Earl of Berkeley's valet.
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