  Said the hornet to the bee, "Pray you, will you marry me? Will you be my little wife, For to love me all my life? You shall have a velvet cloak, And a bonnet with a poke. You shall sit upon a chair With a cabbage in your hair. You shall ride upon a horse, If you fancy such a course. You shall feed on venison pasty In a manner trig and tasty; Devilled bones and apple-cores, If you like them, shall be yours. You shall drink both rum and wine, If you only will be mine. Pray you, will you marry me?" Said the hornet to the bee. Said the bee unto the hornet, "Your proposal, sir, I scorn it. Marry one devoid of money, Who can't make a drop of honey? Cannot even play the fiddle, And is pinched up in the middle? Nay, my love is set more high. Cockychafer's bride am I. Cockychafer whirring loud, Frisking free and prancing proud, Cockychafer blithe and gay, He hath stole my heart away. Him alone I mean to marry, So no longer you need tarry. Not another moment stay! Cockychafer comes this way. Your proposal, sir, I scorn it!" Said the bee unto the hornet. So the cockychafer came, Took the bee to be his dame. Took the bee to be his wife, For to love her all his life. Wedding dress of goblin green, Hat and feathers for a queen, Worsted mittens on her feet, Thus her toilet was complete. Then when it was time to dine, Cockychafer brought her wine, Roasted mouse and bunny-fish, Porridge in a silver dish; Lobster-claws and scalloped beast. Was not that a lovely feast? But when it was time to sup, Cockychafer ate her up. Thus concludes the history Of the hornet and the bee. |
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