Bulchevy's Book of English Verse Part 7

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, I would withstand, with bow in hand, To grieve them as I might, And you to save; as women have From death men many one: For, in my mind, of all mankind I love but you alone.

He. Yet take good hede; for ever I drede That ye could not sustain The th.o.r.n.y ways, the deep valleys, The snow, the frost, the rain, The cold, the heat; for dry or wete, We must lodge on the plain; And, us above, no other roof But a brake bush or twain: Which soon should grieve you, I believe; And ye would gladly than That I had to the green-wood go, Alone, a banished man.

She. Sith I have here been partynere With you of joy and bliss, I must als part of your woe Endure, as reason is: Yet I am sure of one pleasure, And shortly it is this-- That where ye be, me seemeth, parde, I could not fare amiss.

Without more speech I you beseech That we were shortly gone; For, in my mind, of all mankind I love but you alone.

He. If ye go thyder, ye must consider, When ye have l.u.s.t to dine, There shall no meat be for to gete, Nether bere, ale, ne wine, Ne shetes clean, to lie between, Made of thread and twine; None other house, but leaves and boughs, To cover your head and mine.

Lo, mine heart sweet, this ill diete Should make you pale and wan: Wherefore I'll to the green-wood go, Alone, a banished man.

She. Among the wild deer such an archere, As men say that ye be, Ne may not fail of good vitayle Where is so great plente And water clear of the rivere Shall be full sweet to me; With which in hele I shall right wele Endure, as ye shall see; And, or we go, a bed or two I can provide anone; For, in my mind, of all mankind I love but you alone.

He. Lo yet, before, ye must do more, If ye will go with me: As, cut your hair up by your ear, Your kirtle by the knee; With bow in hand for to withstand Your enemies, if need be: And this same night, before daylight, To woodward will I flee.

If that ye will all this fulfil, Do it shortly as ye can: Else will I to the green-wood go, Alone, a banished man.

She. I shall as now do more for you Than 'longeth to womanhede; To short my hair, a bow to bear, To shoot in time of need.

O my sweet mother! before all other For you I have most drede!

But now, adieu! I must ensue Where fortune doth me lead.

All this make ye: Now let us flee; The day cometh fast upon: For, in my mind, of all mankind I love but you alone.

He. Nay, nay, not so; ye shall not go, And I shall tell you why-- Your appet.i.te is to be light Of love, I well espy: For, right as ye have said to me, In likewise hardily Ye would answere whosoever it were, In way of company: It is said of old, Soon hot, soon cold; And so is a woman: Wherefore I to the wood will go, Alone, a banished man.

She. If ye take heed, it is no need Such words to say to me; For oft ye prayed, and long a.s.sayed, Or I loved you, parde: And though that I of ancestry A baron's daughter be, Yet have you proved how I you loved, A squire of low degree; And ever shall, whatso befall To die therefore anone; For, in my mind, of all mankind I love but you alone.

He. A baron's child to be beguiled, It were a cursed deed!

To be felaw with an outlaw-- Almighty G.o.d forbede!

Yet better were the poor squyere Alone to forest yede Than ye shall say another day That by my cursed rede Ye were betrayed. Wherefore, good maid, The best rede that I can, Is, that I to the green-wood go, Alone, a banished man.

She. Whatever befall, I never shall Of this thing be upbraid: But if ye go, and leave me so, Then have ye me betrayed.

Remember you wele, how that ye dele; For if ye, as ye said, Be so unkind to leave behind Your love, the Nut-brown Maid, Trust me truly that I shall die Soon after ye be gone: For, in my mind, of all mankind I love but you alone.

He. If that ye went, ye should repent; For in the forest now I have purveyed me of a maid Whom I love more than you: Another more fair than ever ye were I dare it well avow; And of you both each should be wroth With other, as I trow: It were mine ease to live in peace; So will I, if I can: Wherefore I to the wood will go, Alone, a banished man.

She. Though in the wood I understood Ye had a paramour, All this may nought remove my thought, But that I will be your': And she shall find me soft and kind And courteis every hour; Glad to fulfil all that she will Command me, to my power: For had ye, lo, an hundred mo, Yet would I be that one: For, in my mind, of all mankind I love but you alone.

He. Mine own dear love, I see the prove That ye be kind and true; Of maid, of wife, in all my life, The best that ever I knew.

Be merry and glad; be no more sad; The case is changed new; For it were ruth that for your truth Ye should have cause to rue.

Be not dismayed, whatsoever I said To you when I began: I will not to the green-wood go; I am no banished man.

She. These tidings be more glad to me Than to be made a queen, If I were sure they should endure; But it is often seen When men will break promise they speak The wordis on the splene.

Ye shape some wile me to beguile, And steal from me, I ween: Then were the case worse than it was, And I more wo-begone: For, in my mind, of all mankind I love but you alone.

He. Ye shall not nede further to drede: I will not disparage You (G.o.d defend), sith you descend Of so great a linage.

Now understand: to Westmoreland, Which is my heritage, I will you bring; and with a ring, By way of marriage I will you take, and lady make, As shortly as I can: Thus have you won an Earles son, And not a banished man.

Here may ye see that women be In love meek, kind, and stable; Let never man reprove them than, Or call them variable; But rather pray G.o.d that we may To them be comfortable; Which sometime proveth such as He loveth, If they be charitable.

For sith men would that women should Be meek to them each one; Much more ought they to G.o.d obey, And serve but Him alone.

never a dele] never a bit. than] then. in fere] in company together. rede I can] counsel I know. part with] share with. tho] those. hele] health. yede] went. on the splene] that is, in haste.

Anonymous. 16th Cent.

26. As ye came from the Holy Land

AS ye came from the holy land Of Walsinghame, Met you not with my true love By the way as you came?

How should I know your true love, That have met many a one As I came from the holy land, That have come, that have gone?

She is neither white nor brown, But as the heavens fair; There is none hath her form divine In the earth or the air.

Such a one did I meet, good sir, Such an angelic face, Who like a nymph, like a queen, did appear In her gait, in her grace.

She hath left me here alone All alone, as unknown, Who sometime did me lead with herself, And me loved as her own.

What 's the cause that she leaves you alone And a new way doth take, That sometime did love you as her own, And her joy did you make?

I have loved her all my youth, But now am old, as you see: Love likes not the falling fruit, Nor the withered tree.

Know that Love is a careless child, And forgets promise past: He is blind, he is deaf when he list, And in faith never fast.

His desire is a dureless content, And a trustless joy; He is won with a world of despair, And is lost with a toy.

Of womenkind such indeed is the love, Or the word love abused, Under which many childish desires And conceits are excused.

But true love is a durable fire, In the mind ever burning, Never sick, never dead, never cold, From itself never turning.

Anonymous. 16th Cent. (?)

27. The Lover in Winter Plaineth for the Spring

O WESTERN wind, when wilt thou blow That the small rain down can rain?

Christ, that my love were in my arms And I in my bed again!

Anonymous. 16th Cent.

28. Balow

BALOW, my babe, lie still and sleep!

It grieves me sore to see thee weep.

Wouldst thou be quiet I'se be glad, Thy mourning makes my sorrow sad: Balow my boy, thy mother's joy, Thy father breeds me great annoy-- Balow, la-low!

When he began to court my love, And with his sugred words me move, His faynings false and flattering cheer To me that time did not appear: But now I see most cruellye He cares ne for my babe nor me-- Balow, la-low!

Lie still, my darling, sleep awhile, And when thou wak'st thoo'le sweetly smile: But smile not as thy father did, To cozen maids: nay, G.o.d forbid!

But yet I fear thou wilt go near Thy father's heart and face to bear-- Balow, la-low!

I cannot choose but ever will Be loving to thy father still; Where'er he go, where'er he ride, My love with him doth still abide; In weal or woe, where'er he go, My heart shall ne'er depart him fro-- Balow, la-low!