And to his little daughter Jane
       Five hundred pounds in gold,
     To be paid down on marriage-day,
       Which might not be controlled. 
     But if the children chanced to die
       Ere they to age should come,
     Their uncle should possess their wealth;
       For so the will did run.

     “Now, brother,” said the dying man,
       “Look to my children dear;
     Be good unto my boy and girl,
       No friends else have they here;
     To God and you I recommend
       My children dear this day;
     But little while be sure we have
       Within this world to stay.

     “You must be father and mother both,
       And uncle, all in one;
     God knows what will become of them
       When I am dead and gone.” 
     With that bespake their mother dear: 
       “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,
       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.