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She drest herself in rich array,
And went to see her slaves one day,
Hearing the moan this young man made,
She went to him, and thus she said,
From what country young man are you?
I’m an Englishman, madam, that’s true.
I wish you were some Turk, said she,
I’d ease you of your slavery.
I’d ease you of your slav’ry work,
If you’ll consent to turn a Turk,
And me myself to be your wife,
For I do love you as my life.
No, no, no, no, no, no, said he,
Your constant slave, dear ma’am I’ll be,
I’ll sooner be burnt at a stake,
Before that I’ll my God forsake.
This Lady to her chamber went,
And spent this night in discontent,
Little Cupid with his piercing dart,
Did deeply wound this Lady’s heart;
She was resolved the next day,
To ease him of his slavery,
And own herself to be his wife,
For she did love him as her life.
She drest herself in rich array,
With this young man she sail’d away,
Until they came to Bristol shore,
