The maid and the servant were both innocent, And onward their journey next morning they went; Before the sun set to the knight's they did come, Where the servant did leave her, and turned home. The girl was attended most bravely indeed, With men and with maidens to serve her at need: Where she did continue whole twelvemonths' space, Till this cruel knight came to the place. As he and his brother together did talk, He spy'd the fair maid in the garden to walk; She looked most beautiful, pleasant and gay, Like to fair Aurora, the goddess of May. He was in a passion, when her he did 'spy, And said, very angry, "Brother, oh! why, Pray did you not do, as in the letter I wrote?" His brother reply'd, "It is done every bit." "No, no, said the knight, it is not I see, Therefore she shall again go with me." But his brother did show him the letter that day; Then he was amazed, but nothing did say. PART III. Soon after the knight took this maiden away, And with her did ride, till they came to the sea; Then looking on her with anger and spite, He spoke to the virgin, and bid her alight. The maid from her horse immediately went, And trembled to think what it was that he meant; "Ne'er tremble," said he, "for this hour is your last, Then pull off your clothes, I command you in haste." The virgin, with tears in her eyes, did reply, "Oh! what have I done that now I must die? Oh! let me but know how I did you offend, I'll study each hour for to make you amends. "Oh! spare but my life, and I'll wander the earth, And never come near you while that I have breath." He hearing this pitiful moan she did make, Then from his own finger a ring he did take, And unto this maiden in anger did say, "This ring in the water I'll now throw away; Pray look on it well, the posey is plain, And when you see it may know it again. "I charge you for life, ne'er come more in my sight, For if you do, I shall owe you a spite; Unless that you bring the same ring unto me." With that, he let the ring drop into the sea: Which when he had done, from the maid he did go, And left her to wander in sorrow and woe. She rambled all night, and at last did espy A homely poor cottage, and to it did hie. Being hungry and cold, with a heart full of grief, She went to the cottage and asked for relief: The people reliev'd her, and the very next day, They got her a service, as I do hear say, At a nobleman's house, not far from that place, Where she behaved herself with modest grace; She was a cook maid, and forgot all things past, But here is a wonder now comes at the last. As she a fish dinner was dressing one day, And opening the head of a cod, as they say, She found a rich ring, and was struck with amaze; And then she with wonder upon it did gaze.