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She stepp'd to him as red as any rose,

Catching hold of his bridle-ring: “ Pray you, kind sir, give me one penny,

To ease my weary limb.”

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“I prithee sweet-heart, can'ít thou tell me,

Where that thou wast born." At Illington, kind fir, said she,

Where I have had many a scorn.

“ I prithee, fweet-heart, can't thou tell me,

Whether thou doft know
The bailiffs daughter of Illington.”

of She's dead, fir, long ago.”


“ Then will I fell my goodly steed, My saddle and

my I will into some far country,

Where no man doth me know."

“ O ftay, O ftay, thou goodly youth,

She's alive, she is not dead ; Here she ftandeth by thy fide,

And is ready to be thy bride.”,

“O farewell grief, and welcome joy,

Ten thousand times and more ;
For now I have seen mine own true love,

That I thought I should have seen no more !"






N the days of old,

When fair France did flourish,
Stories plainly told,

Lovers felt annoy :
The king a daughter had,

Beauteous, fair, and lovely,
Which made her father glad,

She was his only joy ;
A prince from England came,
Whose deeds did merit fame,

He woo'd her long, and lo, at laft,
Look what he did require,
She granted his desire;

Their hearts in one were linked fast.
Which when her father proved,
Lord, how he was moved,

And tormented in his mind!
He fought for to prevent them,
And to discontent them,

Fortune crossed lovers kind.

• The full title in the old copies, is “ An excellent ballad of a prince of Englands courtship to the king of France's daughter, and how the prince was disasterously Nain, and how the aforesaid princess was afterwards married to a Forrester,"


When these princes twain

Were thus barrd of pleasure, Through the kings disdain,

Which their joys with tood: The lady lock'd up close

Her jewels and her treasure,
Having no remorse,

Of state and royal blood :
In homely poor array,
She went from court away,

To meet her love and hearts delight :
Who in a forest great
Had taken up his seat,

To wait her coming in the night:
But lo! what sudden danger
To this princely stranger

Chanced as he sat alone ;
By outlaws he was robbed,
And with poniard stabbed,

Uttering many a dying groan.

The princess armed by him,

And by true desire, Wandering all that night,

Without dread at all I; Still unknown the pass'd,

In her strange attire,
Coming at the last,

Within echos call,
You fair woods, quoth the,
Honoured may you be,

Harbouring my hearts delight :


Which doth encompass here,
My joy and only dear,

My trusty friend and comely knight.
Sweet, I come unto thee,
Sweet, I come to woo thee,

That thou may’ft not angry be,
For my long delaying,
And thy courteous staying,

Amends for all I'll make to thee.

Paffing thus alone,

Through the filent forest, Many a grievous groan,

Sounded in her ear ; Where she heard a man

To lament the forest Chance that ever came ;

Forc'd by deadly ftrife, Farewell, my dear, quoth he, Whom I Mall, never see,

For why my life is at an end ;
For thy sweet fake I die,
Through villains cruelty,

To show I am a faithful friend :
Here lie I a bleeding,
While my thoughts are feeding,

On the rarest beauty found;
O hard hap that may be,
Little knows my lady,

My hearts blood lies on the ground.

With that he gave a groan,

That did break alunder All the tender ftrings

Of his gentle heart; She who knew his voice,

At his tale did wonder, All her former joys

Did to grief convert : Straight the ran to see, Who this man ihould be,

That so like her love did speak;
And found, when as she came,
Her lovely lord lay flain,

Smear'd in blood, which life did break:
Which when she espied,
Lord, how fore she cried !

Her sorrows could not counted be ;
Her eyes like fountains running,
While the cried out, My darling,

Would God that I had died for thee!

His pale lips, alas !

Twenty times the killed, And his face did wash

With her brinish tears ; Every bleeding wound,

Her fair face bedewed, Wiping off the blood

With her golden hair : Speak, my love, quoth the, Speak, dear prince, to me,


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