human
One boon, one boon, says jolly Robín,
gpt
One boon I beg on my knee; That, as for the death of these three squires, 55 Their hangman I may be.
human
Soon granted, soon granted, says master sheriff,
gpt
Soon granted unto thee; And you shalt have all their gay cloathìng, Aye, and all their white monèy.
human
O I will have none of their gay cloathìng, Nor none of their white monèy, But I'll have three blasts on my bugle-horn, That their souls to heaven may flee.