GET HENCE! A VAUNT! i SCORN THY GOLD. THE BALLAD OF MARY JANE 11 Get hence ! avaunt! I scorn thy gold, Likewise thy pedigree!I plighted troth to Benjamin, Who sails the briny sea. [Exit Mortimer; enter father. Nay, verily, her father said; Braid up thy golden hair;Prepare to die, if thou wilt not… … THE FATHER ENTERS. She braided up her golden hairWith jewels bright, eft soon; She clad her in her twice-dyed gown,And eke her thrice-patched shoon. Oh, Benjamin ! Oh, Benjamin !rWas all that she could say j She wist not but that he was dead,Or thousand leagues away. 12 ST. NICHOLAS PLAYS AND…
Children's plays · Amusements
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