

CHAP, iv.] THE THIRD DA Y. 83 



A honey tongue, a heart of gall, 

 Is fancy's spring but sorrow's fall. 



Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of roses, 

 Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies, 

 Soon break, soon wither, soon forgotten ; 

 In folly ripe, in reason rotten. 



Thy belt of straw, and ivy buds, 

 Thy coral clasps, and amber studs, 

 All these in me no means can move 

 To come to thee, and be thy love. 



[What should we talk of dainties, then, 

 Of better meat than's fit for men ? 

 These are but vain : that's only good 

 Which God hath blessed, and sent for food.] 



But could youth last, and love still breed ; 

 Had joys no date, nor age no need ; 

 Then those delights my mind might move 

 To live with thee, and be thy love. 



MOTHER. 1 Well ! I have done my song. But stay, honest 

 anglers ; for I will make Maudlin sing you one short song more.* 

 Maudlin ! sing that song that you sung last night, when young 

 Coridon the shepherd played so purely on his oaten pipe to you 

 and your cousin Betty. 



MAUDLIN. I will, mother. 



I married a wife of late, 

 The more's my unhappy fate : 

 I married her for love, 

 As my fancy did me move, 

 And not for a worldly estate : 



But oh ! the green sickness 

 Soon changed her likeness ; 

 And all her beauty did fail. 

 But 'tis not so 

 With those that go 

 Thro' frost and snow, 

 As all men know, 

 And carry the milking- pail. 



PlSCATOR. Well sung, good woman ; I thank you. I'll give 



VARIATION. 



1 This passage, the reply, and the following song, occur, for the first time, in the 

 fiftli edit. In ihe preceding editions, Piscator's commendation ''Wdl sung," &c-, is 

 applied to the milkmaid's mother's answer. 



* A song, entitled " The Bonny Milk Maid," in the same metre, is printed in Durfey's 

 Pills to purge Melancholy, vol. i. 1719, i2mo. 



