Than betwaine us late us dyscus
What was all the manere

Betwayne them two: we wyll also
Tell all the payne, and fere,1
That she was in. Nowe I begyn,
So that ye me answère;
Wherfore, all ye, that present be
I pray you, gyve an ere.
" I am the knyght; I come by nyght,
As secret as I can ;

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

And I your wyll for to fulfyll

In this wyll nat refuse;

Trustying to shewe, in wordès fewe,

That men have an yll use

(To theyr own shame) women to blame,

And causelesse them accuse :

Therfore to you I answere nowe,

All women to excuse,

SHE.*

25

30

35

40

Myne owne hart dere, with you what chere? 45

I pray you, tell anone;

For, in my mynde, of all mankynde

I love but you alone.

HE.

It standeth so; a dede is do2

Wherof grete harme shall growe:

My destiny is for to dy

A shamefull deth, I trowe;

50

[* Percy printed the "She" at the beginning of this stanza. 1 pain and fear. In the Balliol MS. 354, the reading is in-fere

(or in company with her lover).

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!

55

None other rede I can :1
For I must to the grene wode go,

Alone, a banyshed man.

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 depart3 nat so sone.
Why say ye so? wheder wyll ye go?
Alas! what have ye done?
All my welfare 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;5
But, aftyrwarde, your paynes 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.

Ver. 63. The somers, Prol.

60

65

70

75

80

[1 advice I know.

3 separate.
6 abate.]

And thus I do; and pray you to,

As hartely,1 as I can;

For I must to the grene wode go,

Alone, a banyshed man.

I wolle not leve2 behynde ;

Shall never be sayd, the Not-browne Mayd

Was to her love unkynde:

1

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

100

No lenger make delay.
Rather than ye sholde thus for me

105

Be called an yll woman,

Yet wolde I to the grene wode go,

Alone, a banyshed man.

Ver. 91. Shall it never, Prol. and Mr. W. V. 94. Althought, Mr. W.

[1 earnestly.

2 remain.

3 advise.]

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 part with you, the same:
And sure all tho,' 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,
Nothynge to dout, but to renne' out
To wode with an outlàwe:

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 lever than,3

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 sayd before

Ver. 117. To shewe all, Prol. and Mr. W. Prol. and Mr. W.

110

115

120

125

130

135

3 rather then.]

Besides these ballads there are a poem attributed to Lydgate, and Drayton's Battaile of Agincourt. For further information on the subject the reader should see Sir Nicholas Harris Nicolas's History of the Battle, and Hales and Furnivall's edition of the Percy Folio MS. (vol. ii. pp. 158, 595).

Dr. Rimbault describes the music attached to the present ballad "as the first English regular composition of which we have any remains."]

Deo gratias Anglia redde pro victoria!
WRE kynge went forth to Normandy,
With grace and myyt of chivalry;
The God for hym wrouyt marvelously,
Wherefore Englonde may calle, and cry 5
Deo gratias:

Deo gratias Anglia redde pro victoria.

He sette a sege, the sothe for to say,
To Harflue' toune with ryal aray;
That toune he wan, and made a fray,
That Fraunce shall rywe tyl domes day.
Deo gratias, &c.

Then went owre kynge, with alle his oste,
Thorowe Fraunce for all the Frenshe boste;
He spared 'for' drede of leste, ne most,
Tyl he come to Agincourt coste."

Deo gratias, &C.

Than for sothe that knyyt comely
In Agincourt feld he fauyt manly,
Thorow grace of God most myyty
He had bothe the felde, and the victory.

ΤΟ

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