She. I say not nay, but that all day
It is both written and said

He.

That woman's faith is, as who saith,
All utterly decayd:

But nevertheless, right good witnèss
In this case might be laid
That they love true and continue :
Record the Nut-brown Maid,
Which, when her love came her to prove,
To her to make his moan,

Would not depart; for in her heart

She loved but him alone.

So that ye me answere:

Wherefore all ye that present be,

I pray you, give an ear.

I am the Knight. I come by night,
As secret as I can,

Saying, Alas! thus standeth the case,
I am a banished man.

She. And I your will for to fulfil
In this will not refuse;

Trusting to show, in wordes few,
That men have an ill use-

To their own shame-women to blame.
And causeless them accuse.

in fere] in company together.

Therefore to you I answer now,

All women to excuse

Mine own heart dear, with you what cheer?
I pray you, tell anone;

For, in my mind, of all mankind

I love but you alone.

He. It standeth so: a deed is do
Whereof great harm shall grow:
My destiny is for to die

A shameful death, I trow;

Or else to flee. The t' one must be.
None other way I know
But to withdraw as an outlaw,

And take me to my bow.

Wherefore adieu, mine own heart true!
None other rede I can:

For I must to the green-wood go,
Alone, a banished man.

She. O Lord, what is this worldis bliss,
That changeth as the moon!
My summer's day in lusty May
Is darked before the noon.
I hear you say, farewell: Nay, nay,
We depart not so soon.

Why say ye so? whither will ye go?
Alas! what have ye done?

All my welfare to sorrow and care

Should change, if ye were gone:
For, in my mind, of all mankind
I love but you alone.

rede I can] counsel I know.

He. I can believe it shall you grieve,
And somewhat you distrain;
But afterward, your paines hard
Within a day or twain

Shall soon aslake; and ye shall take
Comfort to you again.

Why should ye ought? for, to make thought,

Your labour were in vain.

And thus I do; and pray you to,

As hartely as I can:

For I must to the green-wood go,
Alone, a banished man.

She. Now, sith that ye have showed to me
The secret of your mind,

I shall be plain to you again,

Like as ye shall me find.
Sith it is so that ye will go,

I will not live behind.

Shall never be said the Nut-brown Maid

Was to her love unkind.

Make you readỳ, for so am I,

Although it were anone:
For, in my mind, of all mankind
I love but you alone.

He. Yet I you rede to take good heed
What men will think and say:
Of young, of old, it shall be told

That ye be gone away

Your wanton will for to fulfil,
In green-wood you to play;

And that ye might for your delight
No longer make delay.

Rather than ye should thus for me
Be called an ill woman

Yet would I to the green-wood go,
Alone, a banished man.

She. Though it be sung of old and young
That I should be to blame,

Theirs be the charge that speak so large
In hurting of my name:
For I will prove that faithful love
It is devoid of shame;
In your distress and heaviness

To part with you the same:
And sure all tho that do not so
True lovers are they none:
For in my mind, of all mankind
I love but you alone.

He. I counsel you, Remember how
It is no maiden's law

Nothing to doubt, but to run out
To wood with an outlaw.

For ye must there in your hand bear
A bow ready to draw;

And as a thief thus must you live

Ever in dread and awe;

Whereby to you great harm might grow:

Yet had I liever than

That I had to the green-wood go,
Alone, a banished man.

She. I think not nay but as ye say;
It is no maiden's lore;

He.

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

To come on foot, to hunt and shoot,
To get us meat and store;
For so that I your company

May have, I ask no more.

From which to part it maketh my heart

As cold as any stone;

For, in my mind, of all mankind

I love but you alone.

For an outlaw this is the law,
That men him take and bind:

Without pitie, hangèd to be,
And waver with the wind.
If I had need (as God forbede!)
What socours could ye find?
Forsooth I trow, you and your bow

For fear would draw behind.
And no mervail; for little avail

Were in your counsel than:
Wherefore I'll to the green-wood go,
Alone, a banished man.

She. Right well know ye that women be
But feeble for to fight;

No womanhede it is, indeed,

To be bold as a knight:

Yet in such fear if that ye were
With enemies day and night,