Saith father, "Son, thou art sprung from kings; take this woman that is sprung from kings, for I have no further use for her." Anon cometh a white rag thinly from the inner tent--mark her provenance.

Son kneeleth down.

"Wilt thou have my son, cony ?" saith father.

"Yea, dear heart," saith she.

"'Tis my counterpart, mark you," saith father.
"Better than nothing at all," saith she.