BEGGING YOUR PARDON

Begging your pardon, Captain, but the master said I should say
That he's just had one of his turns, like, and he thinks you'd be best away.
There's a party of reivers on the prowl - from house to house they go:
So the long and the short of it is, sir, come back in three hours or so.
If you look over here at the map you'll see he's marked a trail in red,
Which he says is the route you should follow assuming you'd rather not end up dead.
If you leave your sword and your mail behind I'll see they're put safely by.
Have a cloak with a hood
And do try and be good
And we'll see you here later: goodbye.

Begging your pardon, Mademoiselle, but the master wanted you told
That if you were here when the reivers came you'd likely not live to grow old.
Here's a wig and a robe and a pair of shoes to give you additional height,
And the long and the short of it is, miss, you'd best come back when it's night.
If you follow the way the Captain went you'll be safer with him than alone,
And a good deal happier too, if I'm right, did you think I was dull as a stone?
There's nothing as plain as a maiden's heart to the halfway discerning view:
Keep your mind on the plan
And stay close to your man--
Now, Mademoiselle, adieu.

Begging your pardon, HRH, but the master gave me the word
That you'd better be far away from here in case something nasty occurred.
He's marked a path on the map in green to hide you from reiving eyes,
And the long and the short of it is, Prince, you need some sort of disguise.
Now it's got to be something fairly good since most of them know your face,
So I've found you this rather fetching number in velvet and scarlet lace.
There's a wig and a pair of shoes as well, but the beard's a bit of a frost...
Well, there's no need to shout--
All right, dresses are out--
Look, just don't lose your head--
There's a cloak here instead--
There's no time for a row--
You have got to go now--
For the gods' sake, your highness, get lost!