For, in my mynde, of all mankynde
I love but you alone."
HE"Lo yet, before, ye must do more,
Yf ye wyll go with me:
As cut your here up by your ere,
Your kyrtle by the kne;
With bowe in hande, for to withstande
Your enemyes, yf nede be:
And this same nyght before day-lyght,
To wode-warde wyll I fle.
Yf that ye wyll all this fulfill,
Do it shortely as ye can:
Els wyll I to the grene wode go,
Alone, a banyshed man."
SHE"I shall as nowe do more for you
Than longeth to womanhede;
To shorte my here, a bowe to bere,
To shote in tyme of nede.
O my swete mother, before all other
For you I have most drede:
But nowe, adue I must ensue,
Where fortune doth me lede.
All this make ye: Now let us fle;
The day cometh fast upon;
For, in my mynde, of all mankynde
I love but you alone."
HE"Nay, nay, nat so; ye shall nat go,
And I shall tell ye why,--
Your appetyght is to be lyght
Of love, I wele espy:
For, lyke as ye have sayed to me,
In lyke wyse hardely
Ye wolde answère whosoever it were,
In way of company.
It is sayd of olde, Sone hote, sone colde;
And so is a womàn.
Wherfore I to the wode wyll go,
Alone, a banyshed man."
SHE"Yf ye take hede, it is no nede
Such wordes to say by me;
For oft ye prayed, and longe assayed,
Or I you loved, pardè:
And though that I of auncestry