She. And I your will for to fulfil In this will not refuse; Trustying to show, in words few, That men have an ill use (To their own shame) women to blame, And causeless them accuse; Therefore to you I answer now, All women to excuse, Mine own heart dear, with you what cheer I pray you, tell anon; For, in my mind, of all mankind I love but you alone. _He_. It standeth so; a deed is done Whereof great harm shall grow: My destiny is for to die A shameful death, I trow; Or else to flee. The one must be; None other way I know, But to withdraw as an outlaw, And take me to my bow. Wherefore adieu, my own heart true! None other rede I can: For I must to the green-wood go, Alone, a banished man. _She_. O Lord, what is this worldis bliss, That changeth as the moon! My summer's day in lusty May Is derked before the noon. I hear you say, farewell: Nay, nay, We depart not so soon, Why say ye so? whither will ye go? Alas! what have you done? All my welfare to sorrow and care Should change, if you were gone; For in my mind, of all mankind I love but you alone. _He_. I can believe, it shall you grieve, And somewhat you distrain; But, afterward, your paines hard Within a day or twain Shall soon aslake; and ye shall take Comfort to you again. Why should ye ought? for to make thought, Your labour were in vain. And thus I do; and pray you to, As hartely, as I can; For I must to the green-wood go, Alone, a banished man. _She_. Now, sith that ye have showed to me The secret of your mind, I shall be plain to you again, Like as ye shall me find. Sith it is so, that ye will go, I will not live behind; Shall never be said, the Nut-brown Maid Was to her love unkind: Make you ready, for so am I, Although it were anone; For, in my mind, of all mankind, I love but you alone. _He_. Yet I you rede to take good heed What men will think, and say: Of young and old it shall be told, That ye be gone away, Your wanton will for to fulfil, In green-wood you to play; And that ye might for your delight No longer make delay. Rather than ye should thus for me Be called an ill woman, Yet would I to the green-wood go, Alone, a banished man. _She_. Though it be sung of old and young, That I should be to blame, Theirs be the charge, that speak so large In hurting of my name: For I will prove that faithful love It is devoid of shame; In your distress, and heaviness, To part with you, the same: And sure all those, that do not so, True lovers are they none; For, in my mind, of all mankind, I love but you alone. _He_. I counsel you, Remember how, It is no maiden's law, Nothing to doubt, but to run out To wood with an outlaw: For ye must there in your hand bear A bow, ready to draw, And, as a thief, thus must you live, Ever in dread and awe; Whereby to you great harm might grow: Yet had I liever than, That I did to the green-wood go, Alone, a banished man.