Then down came Jacob tho' the close,
And said Go backward down to hell.
Jacob, quoth she, I know thy voice,
That gate pretains unto thysel;
Of thy old trumperies I can tell,
Thou with two sisters led'st thy life,
And the third part of the tribes twelve
Thou didst get with maids besides thy wife
And stole thy father's benison,
Only by fraud they father frae;
Gave thou not him for venison
A baken kid, instead of rae.
Jacob himself was tickled so,
He went to Lot where he was lying,
And to the prayed him to go,
To staunch the carling of her crying.
Lot says, Fair dame make less ado,
And come again another day,
Old harlot carl, and drunkard too,
Thou with thine own two daughters lay,
Of thine untimely feed I say,
Proceeded never good but ill.
Poor Lot for shame then stole away,
And left the wife to clack her fill.
Meek Moses then went down at last,
To pacify the carling then;
Now dame, said he, knock not so fast.
Your knoking will not let you in.
Good Sir, she said, I am aghast,
Whene'er I look you in the face;
If your law until now did last,
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