The Lady Contemplates Resistance

1643

My cousin has come, he pickets the house.

(The king brought this trouble upon us all.)

Shall I have my followers fire on him

And have the house wrecked? When we cousins were small

He dropped ripe peaches into my skirts.

No, I shall curtsey him into the hall

And there we’ll have someone sing us a song.

This way there’ll be peaches along the wall

For my child to pick in the years to come

And hand out freely when cousins call.