A merchant's son, he lived in wrong And to the begging he has gone. He mounted on his noble steed And awa wi pleasure he did ride. 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." Fal al the dooral i do Fal al the day 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 rolling fu'. Fal al the dooral i do Fal al the day They both inclined 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. Fal al the dooral i do Fal al the day 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. Fal al the dooral i do Fal al the day 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 wincey gown. Fal al the dooral i do Fal al the day 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. Fal al the dooral i do Fal al the day