Ffor thou shalt goe to John Stewards wiffe And pray her speake with mee.

I, and greete thou doe that ladye well,
Ever soe well ffroe mee.

"And, as it ffalls, as many times

As knotts beene knitt on a kell [hair-net], Or marchant men gone to leeve London, Either to buy ware or sell;

"And, as itt ffalles, as many times As any hart can thinke,

Or schoole-masters are in any schoole-house, Writting with pen and inke:

Ffor if I might, as well as shee may,

This night I wold with her speake.

“And heere I send her a mantle of greene, As greene as any grasse,

And bidd her come to the silver wood,

To hunt with Child Maurice.

"And there I send her a ring of gold,
A ring of precyous stone,

And bidd her come to the silver wood,
Let [fail] ffor no kind of man.”

One while this litle boy he yode,
Another while he ran,

Untill he came to John Stewards hall,
I-wis he never blan [stopped].

And of nurture the child had good,
Hee ran up hall and bower ffree,
And when he came to this lady ffaire,
Sayes, "God you save and see!

"I am come ffrom Child Maurice,
A message unto thee;

And Child Maurice, he greetes you well,
And ever soe well ffrom mee.

"And, as itt ffalls, as oftentimes

As knotts beene knitt on a kell,

Or marchant men gone to leeve London,
Either ffor to buy ware or sell.

"And as oftentimes he greetes you well
As any hart can thinke,

Or schoole-masters are in any schoole,
Wryting with pen and inke.

"And heere he sends a mantle of greene,

As greene as any grasse,

And he bidds you come to the silver wood, To hunt with Child Maurice.

"And heere he sends you a ring of gold
A ring of the precyous stone;

He prayes you to come to the silver wood,
Let ffor no kind of man."

"Now peace, now peace, thou litle ffoot-page, Ffor Christes sake, I pray thee!

Ffor if my lord heare one of these words,
Thou must be hanged hye!"

John Steward stood under the castle wall,
And he wrote the words everye one,

And he called unto his horskeeper, "Make readye you my steede!”

I, and so hee did to his chamberlaine, "Make readye thou my weede!"

And he cast a lease [thong] upon his backe, And he rode to the silver wood,

And there he sought all about,

About the silver wood.

And there he ffound him Child Maurice,

Sitting upon a blocke,

With a silver combe in his hand,
Kembing his yellow locke.

"I doe not know your ladye," he said,

He

"If that I doe her see."

sayes, "How now, how now, Child Maurice? Alacke, how may this bee?

Ffor thou hast sent her love-tokens,

More now than two or three.

"Ffor thou hast sent her a mantle of greene,

As greene as any grasse,

And bade her come to the silver woode,

To hunt with Child Maurice.

"And thou hast sent her a ring of gold,
A ring of precyous stone,

And bade her come to the silver wood,
Let ffor noe kind of man.

"And by my ffaith, now, Child Maurice,
The tone [one] of us shall die!"
"Now by my troth," sayd Child Maurice,
"And that shall not be I."

But hee pulled forth a bright browne sword,
And dryed itt on the grasse,

And soe ffast he smote att John Steward,

I-wisse he never did rest.

Then hee pulled fforth his bright browne sword,

And dryed itt on his sleeve,

And the ffirst good stroke John Steward stroke, Child Maurice head he did cleeve.

And he pricked itt on his swords poynt,

Went singing there beside,

And he rode till he came to that ladye ffaire,

Wheras this ladye lied.

And sayes, "Dost thou know Child Maurice head,

If that thou dost itt see?

And lapp itt soft, and kisse itt oft,

Ffor thou lovedst him better than me."

But when shee looked on Child Maurice head,

Shee never spake words but three:

"I never beare no child but one,

And you have slaine him trulye."

Sayes, "Wicked be my merrymen all,
I gave meate, drinke, and clothe!
But cold they not have holden me

When I was in all that wrath!

"Ffor I have slaine one of the courteousest knights

That ever bestrode a steed,

Soe have I done one of the fairest ladies
That ever ware womans weede!"

THE DEMON LOVER.

"O whare hae ye been, my dearest dear,
These seven lang years and more?"
"O I am come to seek my former vows,
That ye promised me before."

"Awa wi your former vows," she says,
"Or else ye will breed strife;
Awa wi your former vows," she says,
"For I'm become a wife.

"I am married to a ship carpenter,
A ship carpenter he's bound;
I wadna he kend my mind this nicht
For twice five hundred pound."

She has put her foot on gude ship board,
And on ship board she's gane,

And the veil that hung over her face

Was a' wi gowd begane.

She had na sailed a league, a league,

A league but barely twa,

Till she did mind on the husband she left,
And her wee young son alsua.

"O haud your tongue, my dearest dear,
Let all your follies abee;

I'll show whare the white lillies grow,

On the banks of Italie."

She had not sailed a league, a league,
A league but barely three,

Till grim, grim grew his countenance,
And gurly grew the sea.

"O haud your tongue, my dearest dear,
Let all these follies abee;

I'll show whare the white lillies grow,
In the bottom of the sea."

He's tane her by the milk-white hand,
And he's thrown her in the main;
And full five-and-twenty hundred ships
Perished all on the coast of Spain.

OLD ROBIN OF PORTINGALE.

["Giles, a steward to a rich old merchant trading to Portugal, is qualified with the title of Sir, not as being a knight, but rather, I conceive, as having received an inferior order of priesthood." PERCY.]

God let never soe old a man

Marrye soe yonge a wife,

As did old Robin of Portingale ;

He may rue all the dayes of his life.

For the mayors daughter of Lin, God wott,
He chose her to his wife,

And thought to have lived in quietness,
With her all the days of his life.

They had not in their wed-bed laid,
Scarcely were both on sleepe,

and forth shee goes,

To Sir Gyles, and fast gan to weepe.

Says, "Sleepe you, wake you, faire Sir Gyles?
Or be you not within?

Sleepe you, wake you, faire Sir Gyles,

Arise and let me inn."

"But I am waking, sweete," he said,
"Ladye, what is your will?"
"I have onbethought me of a wile,
How my wed lord we shall spill.

"Four and twenty knights," she sayes,
"That dwells about this towne,
Eene four and twenty of my next cozens,
Will helpe to dinge him downe."

With that beheard his litle foote-page,
As he watered his master's steed;