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288 HUNGARIAN FOLK-SONGS.
" My servant, my servant, my very little servant, Bring me, bring the great pot of pitch. Bring me, bring me, the great piece of linen, The great piece of linen, of linen fine, received as a present-Begin at her head, and to the sole of her feet wrap her, The fine linen knot around her head. Begin at her head, and to the sole of her feet cover her with
pitch. Begin at the sole of her feet and set the whole on fire.
" At her head I will place the Wallach fif er, At her feet I will place the gypsy fiddler. Whistle, Wallach, whistle from thy Wallach pipe, Play, gypsy, play from thy gypsy fiddle, Whistle with all thy might, play with all thy soul, That the heart of my wife may be rejoiced."
" Go, my child, where the maidens spin
Within their chamber fair."
" Ah, mother, I dare not venture in,
For Kuris will be there."
" If he be there, you need not fear, The young men will thee guard." The judge's daughter, with glances clear, Sits in the young men's ward.
Kuris Pista, indeed, was there,
And to the girl drew nigh, His words he spoke with gracious air,
" The gay dance let us try."