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"
Now
,
"
quoth
Little
John
,
"
thy
voice
is
right
round
and
sweet
,
jolly
lad
.
I
doubt
not
thou
canst
sing
a
ballad
most
blithely
;
canst
thou
not
?
"
"
Truly
,
I
have
trolled
one
now
and
then
,
"
quoth
the
Cook
,
"
yet
I
would
not
sing
alone
.
"
"
Nay
,
,
truly
,
,
"
"
said
said
Little
Little
John
John
,
,
"
"
that
that
were
were
but
but
ill
ill
courtesy
courtesy
.
.
Strike
up
thy
ditty
,
and
I
will
afterward
sing
one
to
match
it
,
if
I
can
.
"
So
be
it
,
pretty
boy
,
"
quoth
the
Cook
.
"
And
hast
thou
e
'
er
heard
the
song
of
the
Deserted
Shepherdess
?
"
"
Truly
,
I
know
not
,
"
answered
Little
John
,
"
but
sing
thou
and
let
me
hear
.
"
Then
the
Cook
took
another
draught
from
the
pottle
,
and
,
clearing
his
throat
,
sang
right
sweetly
:
The
Song
of
the
Deserted
Shepherdess
"
In
Lententime
,
when
leaves
wax
green
,
And
pretty
birds
begin
to
mate
,