That she was in. Nowe I begyn,

So that ye me answère:
Wherefore all ye that present be,
I pray you gyve an ere.

I am the knyght,1 I come by nyght,
As secret as I can,

Sayinge "Alas! thus standeth the case,
I am a banyshed man.”’

SHE.

'And I your wyll for to fulfyll
In this wyll nat refuse,
Trustying to shewe, in wordës fewe,
That men have an yll use,2

(To theyr own shame), women to blame,
And causelesse them accuse:

Therfore to you I answere nowe,

All women to excuse,

"Myne owne hart dere, with you what chere ?

I pray you tell anone:

For in my mynde, of all mankynde

I love but you alone."

HE.

'It standeth so: a dede is do Wherof grete harme shall growe.

My destiny is for to dy

A shamefull deth, I trowe,

Or elles to fle: the one must be:
None other way I knowe,

But to withdrawe as an outlawe,
And take me to my bowe.
Wherfore, adue, my owne hart true,
None other rede I can;3

For I must to the grene wode go
Alone, a banyshed man.'

That is, let me enact the part of the knight.

• Do wrong.

I know no other counsel.

SHE.

' O Lord, what is thys worldys blysse

That changeth as the mone!

My somers day in lusty May

Is derked before the none.
I here you say farewell: Nay, nay,
We départ1 nat so sone.

Why say ye so ? wheder wyll ye go?
Alas, what have ye done?

All my welfàre to sorrowe and care

Sholde chaunge, yf ye were gone: For in my mynde, of all mankynde I love but you alone.'

HE.

I can beleve it shall you greve, And somewhat you dystrayne;2 But aftyrwarde your paynës harde, Within a day or twayne,

Shall sone aslake, and ye shall take

Comfort to you agayne.

Why sholde ye ought? for, to make thought Your labour were in vayne:

And thus I do, and pray you to,

As hartely as I can:

For I must to the grene wode go

Alone, a banyshed man.'

SHE.

Now syth that ye have shewed to me
The secret of your mynde,

I shall be playne to you agayne,
Lyke as ye shall me fynde:

Syth it is so that ye wyll go,

I wolle not leve behynde;

Shall never be sayd the Not-browne Mayd Was to her love unkynde.

Make you redy, for so am I,

Allthough it were anone;

For in my mynde, of all mankynde
I love but you alone.'

HE.

'Yet I you rede to take good hede
What men wyll thynke, and say;
Of yonge and olde it shall be tolde,
That ye be gone away

Your wanton wyll for to fulfill,

In grene wode you to play;
And that ye myght from your delyght
No lenger make delay.

Rather than ye sholde thus for me

Be called an yll womàn,

Yet wolde I to the grene wode go

Alone, a banyshed man.'

SHE.

Though it be songe of old and yonge

That I sholde be to blame,

Theyrs be the charge that speke so large
In hurtynge of my name.

For I wyll prove that faythfulle love

It is devoyd of shame,

In your dystresse and hevynesse,

To part1 with you the same;
And sure all tho2 that do not so,
True lovers are they none;
For in my mynde, of all mankynde
I love but you alone.'

HE.

'I counceyle you remember howe
It is no maydens lawe,3
Nothynge to dout, but to renne out
To wode with an outlàwe.

1 Share.

Those.

Not lawful for a maiden.

For ye must there in your hand bere

A bowe, redy to drawe,

And as a thefe thus must you lyve,

Ever in drede and awe;

Wherby to you grete harme myght growe;

Yet had I lever1 than2

That I had to the grene wode go

Alone, a banyshed man.'

SHE.

'I thinke nat nay; but, as ye say,

It is no maydens lore;

But love may make me for your sake,
As I have sayed before,

To come on fote, to hunt and shote

To gete us mete in store; For so that I your company

May have, I aske no more;

From which to part, it maketh my hart
As colde as ony stone:

For in my mynde, of all mankynde

I love but you alone.'

HE.

'For an outlawe this is the lawe,
That men hym take and bynde,
Without pytè hangëd to be,

And waver with the wynde.
If I had nede, (as God forbede !),
What rescue could ye fynde ?
Forsoth, I trowe, ye and your bowe
For fere wolde drawe behynde:
And no mervayle; for lytell avayle
Were in your counceyle than;
Wherefore I wyll to the grene wode go
Alone, a banyshed man.'

SHE.

' Ryght wele knowe ye that women be

But feble for to fyght;

No womanhede it is indede,

To be bolde as a knyght.

Yet in such fere yf that ye were,
With enemyes day or nyght,

I wolde withstande, with bowe in hande,
To greve them as I myght,
And you to save, as women have,

From deth men many one:
For in my mynde, of all mankynde

I love but you alone.'

HE.

'Yet take good hede; for ever I drede
That ye coude nat sustayne
The thornie wayes, the depe valèies,
The snowe, the frost, the rayne,
The colde, the hete; for, dry or wete,
We must lodge on the playne;

And us above none other rofe

But a brake1 bush or twayne,

Which sone sholde greve you, I beleve,

And ye wolde gladly than That I had to the grene wode go

Alone, a banyshed man.'

SHE.

'Syth I have here bene partynère
With you of joy and blysse,
I must also parte of your wo
Endure, as reson is;

Yet am I sure of one plesùre,
And shortely, it is this:

That where ye be, me semeth, pardè,

I coude nat fare amysse.

1 Bracken.