LYRIC

Beggar Woman:
Alms! Alms!
For a miserable woman…
On a miserable chilly morning.
Th ank yer, sir. Th ank yer.

Anthony:
Ma'am, could you tell me whose house this is?

Beggar Woman:
Th at's the great Judge Turpin's house, that is.

Anthony:
And the young lady who resides there?

Beggar Woman:
Th at's Johanna, his pretty little ward. Keeps her snug,
He does, all locked up. So don't you go trespassing there
Or it's a good whipping for you-or any other young
Man with mischief on his mind.
'Ow would you like a little muff, dear,
A little jig jig,
A little bounce around the bush?
Wouldn't you like to push me parsley?

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