Words and music (scored for solo voice and viols) by William Byrd
My mistress had a little dog whose name was Pretty Royal
Who neither hunted sheep nor hog, but was without denial
A tumbler fine, that might be seen to wait upon a fairy queen.
Upon his mistress he would wait in courteous wise and humble,
And with his craft and false deceit, when she would have him tumble,
s in the pleasant prime, he would kill twenty at a time.
The goddess which Diana
hight among her beagles dainty
Had not a hound so fair and white, nor graced with such beauty;
And yet his beauty was not such, but his conditions were as rich.
But out, alas? I'll speak no more. My heart with grief doth shake;
This pretty dog was wounded sore e'en for his mistress sake:
A beastly man or manly beast knock'd out his brains and so I rest.
A trial royal, royal a trial, a trial! O yes!
s and beagle
s all, if ye sat in Appleton Hall
Would you not judge that out of doubt Tyburn
were fit for such a lout
Commentary: this song was written during the time of Queen Elizabeth I's reign. I would not have wanted to have been the poor lout who offed her dog.