BE E it ryght, or wrong, these men among A labour spent in vayne, To love them wele; for never a dele They love a man agayne: For late a man do what he can, Theyr favour to attayne, Theyr first true lover than Laboureth for nought; for from her thought I say nat nay, but that all day But, neverthelesse, ryght good wytnèsse In this cafe might be layd, That they love true, and continue: Recorde the Not-browne Mayde: Which, when her love came, her to prove, To her to make his mone, Wolde nat depart; for in her hart She loved but hym alone. 20 My friend Mr. Farmer proposes to read the firft lines thus as a La tinifm: Be it right or wrong, 'tis men among, On women to complayne. Ver. 2. Woman. Prolufions, and Mr. Weft's copy. 1.4. their. Ver. 11. her. Than Than betwaine us late us dyfcus What was all the manere Betwayne them two: we wyll alfo So that ye me answère; I pray you, gyve an ere. 25 30 "I am the knyght; I come by nyght, As fecret as I can; Sayinge, Alas! thus ftandeth the case, 35 I am a banyshed man." SHE. And I your wyll for to fulfyll In this wyll nat refuse; Truftying to fhewe, in wordès fewe, That men have an yll use 40 (To theyr own fhame) women to blame, And caufeleffe them accufe: Therfore to you I answere nowe, All women to excufe, 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. HE. It ftandeth fo; a dede is do Wherof grete harme fhall growe: My destiny is for to dy A fhamefull deth, I trowe; Or elles to fle: the one must be. And take me to my bowe. Wherfore, adue, my owne hart true! For I must to the grene wode go, Alone, a banyshed man. SHE. O lord, what is thys worldys blyffe, Is derked before the none. I here you fay, farewell: Nay, nay, Why fay ye fo? wheder wyll ye go? Alas! what have ye done? All my welfare to forrowe and care 50 55 60 65 Sholde chaunge, yf ye were gone; For, in my mynde, of all mankynde 70 I love but you alone. Ver. 63. The fomers. Prol. HE. Why fholde ye ought? for, to make thought, Now, fyth that ye have fhewed to me 85 The fecret of your mynde, I shall be playne to you agayne, Syth it is fo, that ye wyll go, I wolle not leve behynde; Shall never be fayd, the Not-browne Mayd Was to her love unkynde: Make you redy, for so am I, Allthough it were anone; For, in my mynde, of all mankynde I love but you alone. 90 95 Ver. 91. Shall it never. Prol, and Mr. W. Ver. 94. Althought. Mr. W HE. HE. Yet I you rede to take good hede That ye be gone away, Your wanton wyll for to fulfill, In grene wode you to play; And that ye myght from your delyght No lenger make delay. Rather than ye fholde thus for me Be called an yll woman, Yet wolde I to the grene wode 100 105 go, Alone, a banyshed man. SHE. Though it be fonge of old and yonge, That I fholde 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 fhame; In your dyftreffe, and hevyneffe, To part with you, the fame: And fure all tho, that do not fo, True lovers are they none; For, in my mynde, of all mankynde I love but you alone. VOL. II. Ver. 117. To fhewe all. Prol. and Mr. W. 110 115 120 HE. |