‘But nay, by Mary!’ said the child, He askèd mercy pitifullye; ‘Good Steward, let me have my life, And all I have I will give to thee!’ XVII Mercy to him the steward did take, And pull’d the child out o’er the brim But, ever alack, the more pitye! He took his clothing even from him. XVIII Says, ‘Do thou me off that velvet gown, The crimson hose beneath thy knee, And do me off thy cordinant[471] shoon That are buckled with the gold so free. XIX ‘Do thou me off thy satin doublèt, Thy shirtband wrought wi’ glisterin’ gold, And do me off thy golden chain About thy neck with many a fold. XX ‘And do me off thy velvet hat, With feather in it that is so fine; And all unto thy silken shirt, That’s work’d with many a golden seam.’ XXI But when the child was naked stript, With skin as white as the lily flow’r, He might, for his body and his bewtie, Have been a princess’ paramour. XXII He put him in an old kelter[472] coat, And hose of the same above the knee, And he bade him go to a shepherd’s house, To tend sheep on a lonely lee. XXIII The child said, ‘What shall be my name? Prithee, good Steward, tell to me.’-- ‘Thy name shall be Poor Disaware, To tend sheep on a lonely lee.’ XXIV The child came to the shepherd’s house-- O Lord! he weepèd pitifullye-- Says, ‘Do you not want a servant-boy, To tend your sheep on a lonely lee?’ XXV ‘I have no child,’ the shepherd said, ‘My boy, thou’st tarry and dwell with me; My living, my house, but and my goods, I’ll make thee heir of them all, perdie.’ XXVI And then bespake the shepherd’s wife Unto the child so tenderlye: ‘Thou must take the sheep and go to the field, And tend them upon the lonely lee.’ XXVII Now let us leave talk of the child That is tending sheep on the lonely lee, And we’ll talk more of the false steward, Of him and of his treacherye. XXVIII He bought himself a suit of apparel That any lord might a-seem’d to worn; He went a-wooing to the Duke’s daughter, And call’d himself the Lord of Lorn. XXIX The Duke he welcomed the [brisk] young lord With three baked stags and the Rhenish wine: If he had wist him the false steward, With the devil he’d have bade him dine. XXX But when they were at supper set With dainty delicates that was there, The Duke said, ‘If thou’lt wed my daughter I’ll give thee a thousand pound a year.’ XXXI Then hand in hand the steward her took, And plight that lady his troth alone, That she should be his married wife, And he would make her the Lady of Lorn. XXXII