The Merchant's Son Lyrics

A merchant's son, he lived in wrong
And to the beggin' he has gone;
He mounted on his noble steed
And awa' wi' pleasure he did ride.
Chorus (after each verse):
Fal al the dooral i do
Fal al the day

A beggar wench he chanced to meet,
A beggar wench of low degree.
He took pity on her distress
An' says: 'My lass, you've got a pretty face.'

They both inclined now to have a drink;
Into a public house they went.
They ordered ale and brandy too
Till the both of them got rollin' fu'.
They both inclin-ed to go to bed
And under cover soon were laid;
Strong ale and brandy went to their heads
And both now slept as they were dead.

Later on the wench she rose
And put on now the merchant's clothes;
With his hat so high and his sword so clear
And she's awa' wi' the merchant's gear.
Early next morning the merchant rose
And looking round for to find his clothes.
There's nothing left into the room
But a ragged petticoat and a linsey gown.

The merchant being a stranger to the town
He put on the old coat and gown;
And down the street he loudly swore,
He would never lie with a beggar no more.