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As I suppose, and girt she was a lyte !
Thus halAing loose for haste; to such delight
It was to see her youth in goodlihead,
That for rudeness to speak thereof I dread.

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XXXI. In her was youth, beauty with humble port, · Bounty, richess, and womanly feature: (God better wote than my pen can report) Wisdom largèss, estate and cunning sure, In word in deed, in shape and countenance, That nature might no more her childe avance.



Nothing is known of the life of Henryson, but that he was a schoolmaster at Dumferling. Lord Hailes supposes

his office to have been preceptor of youth in the Benedictine convent of that place. Besides a continuation of Chaucer's Troilus and Cresseide, he wrote a number of fables, of which MS.copies are preserved in the Scotch Advocates Library.

1 A little.

2 Half.



ROBENE sat on gud grene hill',
Keipand a flok of fie 2:
Mirry Makyne said him till",
Robene thou rew on me 4 :
I haif thè luvit, lowd and still 5,
This yieris two or thrèo;
My dule in dern bot gif thou dill?,
Doubtless bot dreid I die 8.

He. Robene answerit, be the rude',

Nathing of lufe I knaw%;
Bot keipis my scheip undir yone wudo,
Lo quhair they raik on raw 4..

I. Robene sat on a good green hill._ Keeping a flock of cattle. Merry Makyne said to him. Rotene, take pity on me.-5 I have loved thee openly and secretly.—6 These years

two or three.--7 My sorrow, in secret, unless thou share. Undoubtedly I shall die.

II. · Robene answered, by the rood. Nothing of love I know. But keep my sheep under yon wood. Lo where they range in a row.

Quhat has marrit thè in thy mude',
Makyne to me thow schaw6?
Or what is luve, or to be lu'ed?,
Fain wald I leir that law 8.

She. At luvis leir gif thow will leir",

Take thair an A, B, C,
Be kind, courtas, and fair of feir,
Wyse, hardy, and frè4.
Sè that no danger do thè deir),
Quhat dule in dern thow drie ,
Preiss thè with pane at all poweir?,
Be patient, and previe 8.


He. Robene answerit her agane',

I wait not quhat is luve,
But I haif marvell, in certaine,
Quhat makis thè this wanrufe4.

5 What has marred thee in thy mood.- Makyne, show thou to me. Or what is love or to be loved.--8 Fain would I learn that law (of love).

III. 1 At the lore of love if thou wilt learn.—2 Take there an A, B, C. Be kind, courteous, and fair of aspect or feature. 4Wise, hardy, and free.--5 See that no danger daunt thee.Whatever sorrow in secret thou sufferest.—7 Exert thyself with pains to thy utmost power.—8 Be patient and privy.

IV. 1 Robene answered her again. I wot not what is love.-3 But I (have) wonder, certainly.- What makes thee thus melancholy.

The weddir is fair, and I am fane",
My scheip gois haill aboif,
An we wald play us in this plane?
They wald us baith reproif.

She, Robene take tent unto my tale',

And wirk all as I reid,
And thow sall haif my hairt all hailes
Eik and


Sen God sendis bute for baillo,
And for murning remeid,
I dern with thè, but gif I daillo,
Doubtless I am bot deid?.


He. Makyne, to morne this ilka tyde',


will meit me heir?;
Peradventure my scheip may gang besyde,
Quhill we haif liggit full neir“,

5 The weather is fair, and I am glad. My sheep go healthful above (or in the uplands).—7 If we should play in this plain.8 They would reprove us both.

V. 1 Robene, take heed unto my tale. And do all as I ads vise. And thou shalt have my heart entirely.-- Since God sends good for evil.—5 And for mourning consolation. I am now in secret with thee, but if I separate.- Doubtless I shall die (broken hearted).

VI. 1 Makyne, to-morrow this very time. If ye will meet me here. Perhaps my sheep may go aside - Until we have lain


Bot maugre haif I, an I byde,
Fra they begin to steir,
Quhat lyis on hairt I will nocht hyd,
Makyne then mak gud cheir.

She. Robene thou reivis me roif* and rest',

I luve but thè allone”,
He. Makyne adew! the sone gois wests,

The day is neirhand gone 4.
She. Robene, in dule I am so drests,
That luve will be my

bone 6.
He. Ga luve, Makyne, quhair evir thou list",

For leman I lue none 8.

She. Robene, I stand in sic a style!,

I sicht, and that full sair
He. Makyne, I haif bene heir this quhile",

At hame God gif I wair4.

VII. · Robene, thou robbest my quiet and rest.? I love but thee alone. 3 Makyne, adieu, the sun goes west.—4 The day is nearly gone.-5 Robene, in sorrow I am so beset.—6 That love will be my bane.—7 Go love, Makyne, where thou wilt.—8 For sweetheart I love none.

VIII. · Robene, I am in such a state.—? I sigh, and that full sore.—3 Makyne, I have been here some time.--4 At home God grant I were.

* Pinkerton absurdly makes this word roiss; it is roif in the Bannatyne MS.

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