Two marionettes, the story goes, once traveled from town to town.
She was a princess, fine and fair, and he was only a clown.
But he loved her true, as a clown will do, and ventured at length to speak.
But though it pleased her vanity, 
she felt it was insanity, 
and tried to hide the blushes on her little, wooden cheek.

He told her his love as side by side they lay in the showman's box.
She scornfully turned away her head and shook out her hempen locks.
He I wed, said she, must a noble be. A clown I am far above.
"Twould sadly shock propriety 
and deeply grieve society, 
and so I'm very sorry, but I can't return your love.

The showman one day redressed his troupe and somehow it came to pass,
The clown was arrayed as a noble earl and she as a serving lass.
The she looked askance with a tender glance and said, I am thine sweetheart!
He answered with civility, 
I'm one of the nobility 
and common sense would tell you that we'd better kiss and part.