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When he before the Lady came, [? verse 6. p. 137.]
Disguised stood he there,
He blinked blithly, and did say,
God save you Mistris fair;
Thou’rt welcome, Tinker, unto me,
Thou seem’st a man of skill,
All broken Vessels for to mend,
Though they be ne’er so ill;
I am the best man of my Trade,
Quoth he, in all this Town,
For any Kettle, Pot, or Pan,