yett with her hand shee made it stand soe stiffe shee cold not bend it, & then anon shee cryes once more, & none can mend it !” come on and cried still " Once more.” 40 He declined 44 “ Adew, adew, sweet hart," quoth hee, “ for in faith I must be gone.” , wherat shee was offended ; ffins. and went away. 48 She declared I Qui n'en a qu’un, n'en a point: Prov. (Meant of Cocks, Bulls, &c., and sometimes alledged by lascivious women,) as good have none as have no more but one, Cotgrave.-F. Robin, 2 leave off! l'll cry out. “Iolly Robin, hold thy hande ! I am not tyde in? Cupids bande; 9 12 Robin, do your worst! ! 16 : “O Jolly Robin, doe thy worst ! thee Robin let me goe: heyda, fye!” ffins. Let me go! 20 | wretched stuff.—Perey. 2 MS. lydain._F. When Phebus addrest. [Page 96 of MS.] This song is printed in “Merry Drollery Complete,” Part 2, 1661 and 1670, also in “ Wit and Drollery, Jovial Poems,” 1656, p. 35. The tune is printed under the title of the burden “O doe not, doe not kill me yet,” in J. J. Starter's “Boertigheden," Amsterdam, 4to, 1634, with a Dutch song written to the tune. This proves that the popularity of the song had extended to Holland twenty-two years before the earliest English copy that I have hitherto found. If the date given for the Percy folio, about 1620, is right, it contains the earliest copy known.-W. C. By moonlight, WHEN Phebus addrest himselfe to the west, & set vp his rest below, her bewtie on me to bestow; by chance I hard one crye for I am not prepared to dye !” walking alone, I heard a maid say “Don't kill me yet." 8 I saw a strange show, 12 With that I drew neare to see & to heare, & strange did appeare such a showe; as ffitts not each wight to know: & euer the mayd shee did cry, for I am not resolued to dye!” and still 16 8 WIIEN PHEBUS ADDREST. The game was blind man's buit, 20 The youth was rough, he tooke vp her stuffe, & to blindmans buffe they did goe; soe great the broyle it did growe. crye, for I am not resolued to dye!” with that he gaue ore, & solemplye swore he wold kill her noe more that night, shee wold tempt him to more delight. her more cause for to crye, ffins. 32 |