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"Now syth that ye have shewed to me the

secret of your mynde, I shalbe playne to you agayne, lyke as ye shal

me fynde;

"I thinke not nay, but as ye saye, it is noo

maydens lore; But love may make me for your sake, as ye

have said before,

1 remain 2 at once

those 4 I had rather then

1 one

2 plan

3 know

5 gone

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“Syth I have here ben partynere with you

of joy and blysse, I muste also parte of your woo endure, as

"I shal, as now,

more for


than longeth to womanhede, To short my here, a bowe to bere to shote in

reason is;

time of nede.


2 roof

1 one

2 health

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“Nay, nay, not soo, ye shal not goo! and I

shal tell you why: Your appetyte is to be lyght of love, I wele

aspie; For right as ye have sayd to me, ín lykewise

hardely Ye wolde answere, whosoever it were,


way of company. It is sayd of olde, ‘sone hote, sone colde,' and

so is a woman; Wherfore I too the woode wyl goo, alone, a

banysshid man.”

“Yef that ye went, ye shulde repent, for in

the forest now I have purveid me of a maide, whom I love

more than you, Another fayrer than ever ye were, I dare it

wel avowe; And of you both, cche shuld be wrothe with

other, as I trowe. It were myn case to lyve in pease; so wyl I yf

I can; Wherfore I to the wode wyl goo, alone, a banysshid man."

150 "Though in the wood I undirstode ye had a

paramour, All this may nought remeve my thought, but

that I wyl be your ; And she shal fynde me softe and kynde, and

curtcis every our, Glad to fulfylle all that she wyl commaunde

me, to my power; For had ye, loo ! an hondred moo, yet wolde I

be that one; For in my mynde of all mankynde I love but

“Yef 1 ye take hede, yet is noo nede, suche

wordis to say bce ? me, For oft ye preyd, and longe assayed, or I you

lovid, perdee! And though that I of auncestry a barons

doughter bee, Yet have you proved how I you loved, a squyer of lowe degree,

130 And ever shal, what so befalle, to dey thersore

anoon; For in my mynde of all mankynde I love but

you alone.”

you alone.

“A barons childe to be begyled, it were a

curssed dede, To be felaw with an outlawe, almyghty God

forbede! Yet bettyr were the power 3 squyer alone to

forest yede, Than ye shal say, another day, that be? my

wyked dede Ye were betrayed; wherfore, good maide, the

best red 5 that I can, Is that I too the grenewode goo, alone, a ban

ysshed man.

“Myn owne dere love, I see the prove that ye

be kynde and trewe; Of mayde and wyfe, in all my lyf, the best

that ever I knewe! Be mery and glad, be no more sad, the case

is chaungèd newe; For it were ruthe that for your trouth you shuld have cause to rewe.

160 Be not dismayed, whatsoever I sayd, to you

whan I began, I wyl not too the grenewode goo, I am noo

banysshyd man.” “Theis tidingis be more glad to me than to be

made a quene, Yf I were sure they shuld endure; but it is

often seen,

“Whatsoever befalle, I never shal of this

thing you upbraid; But yf ye goo and leve me so, than have ye me betraied.


When men wyl breke promyse, they speke the

wordis on the splene.

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5 advice

1 capriciously

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I 2


Thys ender nyght 2
I saw a syght,

A star as bright as day;
And ever among
A maydyn song:

By-by, baby, lullay!
Thys vyrgyn clere
Wythowtyn pere

Unto hur son gane say: “My son, my lorde, My fathere dere,

Why lyest thow in hay?
“Methynk by ryght
Thow, kyng and knyght,

Shulde lye in ryche aray,
Yet none the lesse
I wyll not cesse

To syng, By-by, lullay!”
Thys babe iull bayne 4
Aunsweryd agayne,

And thus, me-thought, he sayd : “I am a kyng Above all thyng,

Yn hay yff I be layde;
“For ye shall see
That kynges thre

Shall cum on the twelfe day.
For thys behest
Geffe me thy brest

And sing, By-by, lullay!"





Who shall have my sayr lady? Who but I? Who but 1 ? Who? Who shall have my fayr lady? Who hath more ryght therlo?


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2 the other night


3 cease

* readily

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“My son, I say
Wythowtyn nay:

Thow art my derling dere;
I shall the kepe
Whyle thow dost slepe
And make the 2 goode chere;
"And all thy wylle
I wyll fulfill,

Thou wotyst hyt well yn fay.
Yet more then thys,
I wyll the kys

And syng, By-by, lullay."
“My moder swete,
When I have slepe,

Then take me up on lofte;
Upon your kne
Thatt ye sett me

And dandell me full soft;
“And in your arme
Lap me ryght warme

And kepe me nyght and day; And yff I wepe And cannott slepe,

Syng, By, baby, lullay.”,
“My son, my lorde,
My fader dere,

Syth all ys at thy wyll,
I pray the, son,
Graunte me a bone,

Yff hyt be ryght and skylle; “That chylde or man, Whoever can

Be mery on thys day,
To blys them bryng
And I shall syng:

By-by, baby, lullay!”
"My moder shene,
Of hevyn quene,

Your askyng shall I spede,
So that the myrth
Dysplease me nott

Yn wordes nor in dede.


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I 2

“Syng what ye wyll,
So ye fullfyll
My ten commai

naundements ay. Yow for to please Let them nott sesse

To syng, Baby, lullay." 1 certainly

2 thee


Yffe he say he can nowght do,
Then, for my love, aske hym no mo,
But to the



3 beautiful

en lett hym go, For now ys the tyme of Crystymas. Make we mery, etc.

1 satisfied


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