“O brother kind,” quoth she, “You are the man must bring our babes To wealth or misery.” “And if you keep them carefully, Then God will you reward; But if you otherwise should deal, God will your deeds regard.” With lips as cold as any stone, They kissed their children small: “God bless you both, my children dear!” With that the tears did fall. These speeches then their brother spake To this sick couple there: “The keeping of your little ones, Sweet sister, do not fear; God never prosper me nor mine, Nor aught else that I have, If I do wrong your children dear When you are laid in grave!” The parents being dead and gone, The children home he takes, And brings them straight unto his house Where much of them he makes. He had not kept these pretty babes A twelvemonth and a day, But, for their wealth, he did devise To make them both away. He bargained with two ruffians strong, Which were of furious mood, That they should take these children young, And slay them in a wood. He told his wife an artful tale He would the children send To be brought up in London town With one that was his friend. Away then went those pretty babes... Away then went those pretty babes, Rejoicing at that tide, Rejoicing with a merry mind They should on cock-horse ride. They prate and prattle pleasantly, As they ride on the way, To those that should their butchers be And work their lives’ decay: So that the pretty speech they had Made Murder’s heart relent; And they that undertook the deed Full sore now did repent. Yet one of them, more hard of heart, Did vow to do his charge, Because the wretch that hired him Had paid him very large. The other won’t agree thereto, So there they fall to strife; With one another they did fight About the children’s life; And he that was of mildest mood Did slay the other there, Within an unfrequented wood; The babes did quake for fear! He took the children by the hand, Tears standing in their eye, And bade them straightway follow him, And look they did not cry; And two long miles he led them on, While they for food complain: “Stay here,” quoth he, “I’ll bring you bread, When I come back again.” These pretty babes, with hand in hand, Went wandering up and down; But never more could see the man Approaching from the town. Their pretty lips with blackberries Were all besmeared and dyed;
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