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She bargain'd with the master-cook,
To take her life awaye;
And, taking of her daughter's book,
She thus to her did saye:--
Go home, sweet daughter, I thee praye,
Go hasten presentlie;
And tell unto the master-cook
These wordes that I tell thee:
And bid him dresse to dinner streight
That fair and milk-white doe,
That in the parke doth shine so bright
There's none so faire to showe.
This ladye, fearing of no harme,
Obey'd her mother's will;
And presentlye she hasted home,
Her pleasure to fulfil.
She streight into the kitchen went,
Her message for to tell;
And there she spied the master-cook,
Who did with malice swell.
Nowe, master-cook, it must be soe,
Do that which I thee tell:
You needes must dresse the milk-white doe
Which you do knowe full well.
Then streight his cruell bloodye hands
He on the ladye layd,
Who quivering and shaking stands,
While thus to her he sayd:--
Thou art the doe that I must dresse,
See here, behold my knife;
For it is pointed, presently
To ridd thee of thy life.


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