University of Virginia Library

[Now every day, 'tis fashion's way]

She
“O God, what is this worldè's bliss
That changeth as the moon!
My summer's day in lusty May
Is darked before the noon!
Farewell, ye say? Ah, nay! ah, nay!
Why will ye be unkind?
If it is so that ye will go,
I will not stay behind;
But woe and bliss as reason is
Will share with you anone;
For in my mind of all mankind
I love but you alone.”

He
“Nay, I you rede to take good heed
What men will think and say,
If it be told of young and old
That ye have gone away;
They'll blame your ill and wanton will,
Your lack of maiden pride,
If ye run out without a doubt
With outlawed men to bide.
Rather than ye should thus for me
Receive the neighbours' ban,
Forth will I to the greenwood go
Alone, a banished man.”

She
“Though it be sung of old and young
That I have lost my fame,
Theirs be the charge that speaks so large
In hurting of my name;
For I will prove that faithful love
It is devoid of shame;
From your distress and heaviness
To shrink would be the blame;
Who would deny to do as I,
True lovers they are none,
But in my mind of all mankind
I love but you alone.”

He
“The thorny ways, the deep vallèys,
I dread ye'll not sustain,
None other house but leaves and boughs
In snow and frost and rain.
No homely care, no wholesome fare,
No comfortable wine;
No sheets so clean to lie between,
Of finest linen twine;
The cold and heat and evil meat
Will make you weak and wan,
So I must to the greenwood go
Alone, a banished man.”

She
“But ye have craft to shoot a shaft
And slay the forest deer;
And who would sup from better cup
Than river-water clear?
My health is sure, I shall endure,
And comfort find in this,
That where ye be, meseems, pardie,
I cannot fare amiss!
Without more speech I you beseech
That we were soon agone,
For in my mind of all mankind
I love but you alone.”

He
“All men are free without pitie
An outlawed man to bind,
Hangèd to be upon a tree,
And waver in the wind;
If foes surround (whom God confound!),
What rescue could ye find?
Forsooth, I trow, you and your bow
For fear would draw behind;
Your heart would fail and not avail
To counsel any plan;
Hence will I to the greenwood go
Alone, a banished man.”

She
“Truly ye spoke that women folk
But feeble are in fight,
Yet for your sake my love will make
Me bold as any knight,
And if your foes should round you close,
And threaten day or night,
I would withstand with bow in hand
To grieve them as I might.
But oh! to part, it makes my heart
As cold as any stone,
For in my mind of all mankind
I love but you alone.”

He
“Ye must do more, dear heart, before
I let you go with me,
Your hair must sheer above your ear,
Your kirtle by the knee,
If bow in hand ye would withstand
Our foeman, if need be.
And since this night, before the light,
To woodward must I flee,
If go ye will, all this fulfil
As shortly as ye can,
Else will I to the greenwood go
Alone, a banished man.”

She
“This is to do much more for you
Than 'longs to womanhede;
Scant kirtle wear and short my hair,
To pull a bow at need!
O mother dear, I only fear
Your sorrow for the deed!
But now, adieu! I must ensue
Where love and fortune lead!
Quick, let us flee, for yonder, see,
The night has nearly flown!
And in my mind of all mankind
I love but you alone”

He
“A baron's child to be beguil'd
In forest wild to wend,
With outlaws roam and leave your home,
Almighty God forfend!
I'm but a squire, and poor my sire,
To forest let me speed,
Lest ye should say, another day,
That by my cursèd deed
Ye were betray'd; wherefore, dear maid
The best rede that I can
Is that I to the greenwood go
Alone, a banished man.”

She
“Whate'er befall, I never shall
Of this thing you upbraid,
But if ye go and leave me so,
Then ye have me betray'd;
For though that I of ancestry
A baron's daughter be,
Yet have ye proved how I you loved,
A squire of low degree,
And still shall do—to die for you
If there be need anone,
For in my mind of all mankind
I love but you alone.”

He
“Mine own dear love, I see you prove
That ye be kind and true,
Of maid or wife, in all my life,
The best I ever knew!
Be merry and glad, be no more sad
The case is changed anew;
For it were ruth that for your truth
Ye should have cause to rue;
Be not dismay'd, whate'er I said
To you when I began!
I will not to the greenwood 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;
Yet it is often seen
That men will break the vows they make
In times of love or spleen;
I fear some guile; ye shape some wile
To steal from me, I ween;
Then sadder state would be my fate
And I more woe-begone;
For in my mind of all mankind
I love but you alone.”

He
“Your dread may end, for God forfend
That I should do outràge
To your fair fame, or ever shame
Your noble lineage;
Now understand, to Westmoreland,
Where is mine heritage,
I will you bring, and with a ring—
True wedlock's holy gage—
I will you take and lady make
As shortly as I can,
For you have won a baron's son,
And not a banished man!”