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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=346120" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Not-Browne Mayd</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Be it ryght or wrong, these men among<br>On women do complayne;<br>Affyrmynge this, how that it is<br>A labour spent in vayne<br>To love them wele; for never a dele<br>They love a man agayne:<br>For late a man do what he can<br>Theyr favour to attayne,<br>Yet yf a newe do them persue,<br>Theyr furst true lover than<br>Laboureth for nought; for from her thought<br>He is a banyshed man.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'I say nat nay, but that all day<br>It is bothe writ and sayd,<br>That woman's faith is as who sayth,<br>All utterly decayd;<br>But neverthelesse, ryght good wytnesse<br>In this case might be layd,<br>That they love true, and continue:<br>Recorde the Not-Brown Mayde;<br>Which, when her love came, her to prove,<br>To her to make his mone,<br>Wolde nat depart, for in her hart<br>She loved but hym alone.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Than betwaine us late us dyscus,<br>What was all the manere<br>Betwayne them two; we wyll also<br>Telle all the payne and fere<br>That she was in. Nowe I begyn,<br>So that ye me answere:<br>Wherefore all ye that present be,<br>I pray you gyve an eare.<br>I am the knyght, I come by nyght<br>As secret as I can,<br>Sayinge, 'Alas! thus standeth the case,<br>I am a banyshed man.''</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>She.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And I your wyll, for to fulfyll<br>In this wyll nat refuse,<br>Trustyng to shewe, in wordes fewe,<br>That men have an yll use,<br>(To theyr own shame) women to blame,<br>And causelesse them accuse:<br>Therfore to you I answere nowe,<br>All women to excuse, -<br>'Myn own hart dere, with you what chere?<br>I pray you telle anone;<br>For in my mynde, of al mankynde,<br>I love but you alone.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>He.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'It standeth so: a dede is do,<br>Whereof grete harme shall growe.<br>My destiny is for to dy<br>A shamefull deth, I trowe, <br>Or elles to fle: the one must be:<br>None other way I knowe,<br>But to withdrawe, as an outlawe,<br>And take me to my bowe.<br>Wherefore, adue, my owne hart true,<br>None other rede I can;<br>For I must to the grene wode go,<br>Alone, a banyshed man.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>She.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'O Lord, what is thys worldys blysse,<br>That changeth as the mone!<br>My somers day in lusty May<br>Is derked before the none.<br>I here you saye farewell: Nay, nay,<br>We depart nat so sone.<br>Why say ye so? wheder wyll ye go?<br>Alas, what have ye done?<br>All my welfare to sorrowe and care<br>Sholde chaunge, yf ye were gone: <br>For in my mynde, of all mankynde<br>I love but you alone.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>He.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'I can beleve it shall you greve,<br>And somewhat you dystrayne;<br>But aftyrwarde your paynes harde,<br>Within a day or twayne,<br>Shall sone aslake, and ye shall take<br>Comfort to you agayne.<br>Why sholde ye ought? for, to make thought<br>Your labur were in vayne:<br>And thus I do, and pray you to,<br>As hartely as I can:<br>For I must to the grene wode go,<br>Alone, a banyshed man.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>She.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Now syth that ye have shewed to me<br>The secret of your mynde,<br>I shall be playne to you agayne,<br>Lyke as ye shall me fynde:<br>Syth it is so that ye wyll go,<br>I wolle not leve behynde;<br>Shall never be sayd the Not-browne Mayd<br>Was to her love unkynde.<br>Make you redy, for so am I, <br>Although it were anone;<br>For in my mynd, of all mankynde,<br>I love but you alone.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>He.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Yet I you rede to take good hede<br>What men wyll thynke, and say;<br>Of yonge and olde it shall be tolde,<br>That ye be gone away<br>Your wanton wyll for to fulfill,<br>In grene wode you to play;<br>And that ye myght from your delyght<br>No lenger make delay.<br>Rather than ye sholde thus for me<br>Be called an yll woman,<br>Yet wolde I to the grene wode go,<br>Alone, a banyshed man.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>She.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Though it be songe of olde and yonge<br>That I sholde be to blame,<br>Theyrs be the charge that speke so large<br>In hurtynge of my name.<br>For I wyll prove that faythfulle love<br>It is devoyd of shame,<br>In your dystresse and hevynesse,<br>To part with you the same;<br>And sure all tho that do not so,<br>True lovers are they none;<br>For in my mynde, of al mankynde<br>I love but you alone.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>He.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'I counceyle you remember howe<br>It is no maydens lawe,<br>Nothynge to dout, but to renne out<br>To wode with an outlawe.<br>For ye must there in your hand bere<br>A bowe, redy to drawe,<br>And as a thefe thus must ye lyve,<br>Ever in drede and awe; <br>Whereby to you grete harme myght growe;<br>Yet I had lever than<br>That I had to the grene wode go<br>Alone, a banyshed man.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>She.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'I thinke nat nay; but as ye say,<br>It is no maydens lore;<br>But love may make me for your sake, <br>To come on fote to hunt and shote,<br>To gete us mete in store;<br>For so that I your company <br>May have, I aske no more;<br>From which to part, it maketh my hart<br>As colde as ony stone:<br>For in my mynde, of all mankynde<br>I love but you alone.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>He.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'For an outlawe this is the lawe,<br>That men hym take and bynde,<br>Without pyte hanged to be,<br>And waver with the wynde.<br>If I had nede, (as God forbede!<br>What rescous could ye finde?<br>Forsoth, I trowe, ye and your bowe<br>For fere wolde drawe behynde:<br>And no merveyle; for lytel avayle<br>Were in your counceyle than;<br>Wherefore I wyll to the grene wode goe<br>Alone, a banyshed man.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>She.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Ryght wele knowe ye that women be<br>But feble for to fyght;<br>No womanhede it is indede<br>To be bolde as a knyght.<br>Yet in suche fere yf that ye were,<br>With enemyes day and nyght,<br>I wolde withstande wyth bowe in hande,<br>To greve them as I myght; <br>And you to save, as women have,<br>From dethe 'men' many one:<br>For in my mynde, of al mankynde<br>I love but you alone.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>He.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Yet take gude hede; for ever I drede<br>That ye coude nat sustayne<br>The thornie wayes, the depe valeies,<br>The snowe, the frost, the rayne,<br>The colde, the hete; for, dry or wete,<br>We must lodge on the playne;<br>And us above none other rofe<br>But a brake bush or twayne,<br>Which sone sholde greve you, I beleve;<br>And ye wolde gladly than<br>That I had to the grene wode goe<br>Alone, a banyshed man.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>She.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Syth I have here bene partynere<br>With you of joy and blysse,<br>I must also parte of your wo<br>Endure, as reson is;<br>Yet am I sure of one pleasure,<br>And shortely, it is this:<br>That where ye be, me seemeth, parde,<br>I coude nat fare amysse.<br>Without more speche, I you beseche<br>That we were soon agone; <br>For in my mynde, of all mankynde<br>I love but you alone.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>He.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'If ye goo thyder, ye must consyder<br>When ye have lust to dyne, <br>There shal no mete be for you gete,<br>Nor drinke, bere, ale, ne wyne;<br>Ne shetes clene to lye betwene,<br>Made of threde and twyne;<br>None other house but leves and bowes<br>To cover your hed and myne.<br>O myne harte swete, this evyll dyete<br>Sholde make you pale and wan:<br>Wherefore I wyll to the grene wode go,<br>Alone, a banyshed man.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>She.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Among the wylde dere, such an archere<br>As men say that ye be<br>Ne may nat fayle of good vitayle,<br>Where is so grete plente;<br>And water clere of the ryvere<br>Shall be full swete to me,<br>With which in hele I shall ryght wele<br>Endure, as ye shal see;<br>And or we go, a bedde or two<br>I can provyde anone;<br>For in my mynde, of all mankynde<br>I love but you alone.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>He.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Lo, yet before, ye must do more<br>Yf ye wyll go with me,<br>As cut your here up by your ere,<br>Your kyrtel by the kne;<br>With bowe in hande, for to withstande<br>Your enemyes, yf nede be;<br>And this same nyght, before daylyght,<br>To wode-warde wyll I fle;<br>Yf ye wyll all this fulfill,<br>Do it shortely as ye can:<br>Els wyll I to the grene wode goe<br>Alone, a banyshed man.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>She.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'I shall as nowe do more for you<br>Than longeth to womanhede,<br>To shorte my here, a bow to bere,<br>To shote in tyme of nede.<br>O my sweet mother, before all other,<br>For you have I most drede!<br>But now, adue! I must ensue<br>Where Fortune doth me lede.<br>All this make ye; and let us fle;<br>The day cometh fast upon; <br>For in my mynde, of all mankynde<br>I love but you alone.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>He.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Nay, nay, nat so: ye shall nat go;<br>And I shall tell ye why; --<br>Your appetyght is to be lyght<br>Of love, I wele espie:<br>For lyke as ye have sayed to me,<br>In lyke wyse, hardely,<br>Ye wolde answere, whosoever it were,<br>In way of company.<br>It is sayd of olde, Sone hote, sone colde,<br>And so is a woman;<br>Wherefore I to the wode wyll goe,<br>Alone, a banyshed man.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>She.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Yf ye take hede, it is no nede <br>Such wordes to say be me; <br>For oft ye prayed, and longe assayed,<br>Or I you loved, parde;<br>And though that I of auncestry<br>A barons daughter be,<br>Yet have you proved howe I you loved,<br>A squyer of lowe degre;<br>And ever shall, whatso befall,<br>To dy therfore anone;<br>For in my mynde, of al mankynde<br>I love but you alone.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>He.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'A baron's chylde to be begyled,<br>It were a cursed dede!<br>To be felawe with an outlawe,<br>Almighty God forbede!<br>Yet beter were the pore squyere<br>Alone to forest yede,<br>Than ye sholde saye another day,<br>That by my cursed dede<br>Ye were betrayed; wherefore, good mayd,<br>The best rede that I can<br>Is that I to the grene wode go,<br>Alone, a banyshed man.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>She.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Whatever befall, I never shall<br>Of this thyng you upbrayd;<br>But yf ye go, and leve me so,<br>Then have ye me betrayd.<br>Remember ye wele, howe that ye dele,<br>For yf ye, as ye sayd,<br>Be so unkynde to leve behynde<br>Your love, the Not-Browne Mayd,<br>Trust me truly, that I shall dy,<br>Some after ye be gone;<br>For in my mynde, of al mankynde<br>I love but you alone.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>He.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Yf that ye went, ye sholde repent,<br>For in the forest nowe<br>I have purvayed me of a mayd,<br>Whom I love more than you:<br>Another fayrere than e'er ye were,<br>I dare it wele avowe;<br>And of you bothe eche sholde be worthe<br>With other, as I trowe.<br>It were myne ese to lyve in pese;<br>So wyll I, yf I can;<br>Wherefore I to the wode wyll go<br>Alone, a banyshed man.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>She.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Though in the wode I undyrstode<br>Ye had a paramour,<br>All this may nought remove my thought,<br>But that I wyll be your;<br>And she shall fynde me soft and kynde,<br>And courteys every hour,<br>Glad to fulfyll all that she wylle<br>Commaunde me, to my power;<br>For had ye, lo, an hundred mo,<br>'Of them I wolde be one.'<br>For in my mynde, of all mankynde<br>I love but you alone.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>He.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Myne own dere love, I see the prove<br>That ye be kynde and true;<br>Of mayde and wyfe, in all my lyfe<br>The best that ever I knewe.<br>Be mery and glad, be no more sad,<br>The case is chaunged newe;<br>For it were ruthe, that for your truthe<br>Ye sholde have cause to rewe.<br>Be nat dismayed: whatsoever I sayd<br>To you, whan I began,<br>I wyll nat to the grene wode goe;<br>I am no banishyd man.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>She.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'These tydings be more gladd to me<br>Than to be made a quene,<br>Yf I were sure they sholde endure;<br>But is often sene,<br>Whan men wyll breke promyse, they speke<br>The wordes on the splene.<br>Ye shape some wyle me to begyle,<br>And stele from me, I wene;<br>Than were the case worse than it was, <br>And I more wo-begone; <br>For in my mynde, of al mankynde<br>I love but you alone.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>He.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Ye shal nat nede further to drede:<br>I wyll nat dysparage<br>You, (God defend!) syth ye descend<br>Of so grete a lynage.<br>Now undyrstande, to Westmarlande,<br>Which is myne herytage,<br>I wyll you brynge, and with a rynge,<br>By way of maryage,<br>I wyll you take, and lady make,<br>As shortely as I can:<br>Thus have you won an erlys son,<br>And not a banyshed man.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Author.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Here may ye se, that women be<br>In love meke, kynde, and stable:<br>Late never man reprove them than,<br>Or call them variable;<br>But rather pray God that we may<br>To them be comfortable,<br>Which sometyme proveth such as he loveth,<br>Yf they be charytable.<br>For syth men wolde that women sholde<br>Be meke to them each one,<br>Moche more ought they to God obey,<br>And serve but hym alone.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Anonymous+Olde+English">Anonymous Olde English</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=346120" data-title="The Not-Browne Mayd de Anonymous Olde English" data-description="'Be it ryght or wrong, these men among
On women do complayne;
Affyrmynge this, how that it is
A labour spent in vayne
To love them wele; for never a dele
They love a man agayne:
For late a man do what he can
Theyr favour to attayne,
Yet yf a newe ..."></div>
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