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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=457222" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Nut-Brown Maid. A Poem.</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Written three hundred years since.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Be it right or wrong, these men among<br>On women do complayne;<br>Affyrmynge this, how that it is<br>A labour spent in vaine<br>To love them wele; for never a dele<br>They love a man againe:<br>For lete a man do what he can<br>Ther favour to attayne,<br>Yet yf a new do them pursue,<br>Ther furst trew lover than<br>Laboureth for nought; for from her thought<br>He is a banishyd man.<br>I say not nay, but that all day<br>It is bothe writ and sayde<br>That woman's fayth is as who saythe,<br>All utterly decayed.<br>But nevertheless right good witness<br>I' this case might be layde,<br>That they love trewe, and continew,<br>Record the Nut-brown Mayde;<br>Which from her love (whan her to prove<br>He came to make his mone)<br>Wold not depart, for in her herte<br>She lovyd but him alone.<br>Than betweene us lettens discusse,<br>What was all the maner<br>Between them two: we wyl also<br>Telle all the peyne and fere<br>That she was in. Now I begynne,<br>So that ye me answere.<br>Wherefore all ye that present be<br>I pray ye give an eare.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Man.<br>I am the knyght, I come by nyght<br>As secret as I can,<br>Saying, alas! thus standeth the case,<br>I am a banishyd man.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Woman.<br>And I your wylle, for to fulfylle<br>In this wyl not refuse,<br>Trusting to show, in wordis fewe,<br>That men have an ill use,<br>(To ther own shame) women to blame,<br>And causelese them accuse:<br>Therefore to you I answere now,<br>Alle women to excuse.<br>Myn own herte 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>Man.<br>It stondeth so; a dede is do,<br>Wherefore moche harm shall growe;<br>My desteny is for to-dey<br>A shameful deth I trowe; <br>Or ellis to flee: 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 adew, my owne herte trewe,<br>None other red I can;<br>For I must to the grene wode goe,<br>Alone, a banishyd man.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Woman.<br>O Lord! what is this worldis blysse,<br>That chaungeth as the mone?<br>My somer's day, in lusty May,<br>Is derked before the none.<br>I here you saye farewell: nay, nay,<br>We departe not soo sone.<br>Why say ye so? wheder wyl ye goe?<br>Alas! what have ye done?<br>Alle my welfare to sorrow and care<br>Shulde chaung yf ye were gone; <br>For in my mynde, of al mankynde,<br>I love but you alone.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Man.<br>I can beleve it shall you greeve,<br>And shomwhat you distrayne,<br>But aftyrwarde your paynes harde,<br>Within a day or tweyne,<br>Shal sone aslake, and ye shal take<br>Comfort to you agayne.<br>Why shuld ye nought? for to make thought<br>Your labur were in vayne,<br>And thus I do, and pray you too,<br>As hertely as I can;<br>For I muste to the greene wode goe,<br>Alone, a banishyd man.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Woman.<br>Now sythe that ye have showed to me<br>The secret of your mynde,<br>I shal be plaine to you againe,<br>Lyke as ye shal me fynde.<br>Sythe it is so that ye wyl goe,<br>I wol not leve behynde:<br>Shal never be sayd the Nut-Brown Mayde<br>Was to her love unkynde.<br>Make you redy, for so am I, <br>Although it were agone;<br>For in my mynd, of all mankynde,<br>I love but you alone.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Man.<br>Yet I you rede to take good hede<br>What men wyl think and sey;<br>Of yonge and olde it shall be tolde<br>That ye be gone away;<br>Your wanton wylle for to fulfylle<br>In grene wode you to play;<br>And that ye myght from your delyte<br>Noo longer make delay.<br>Rather than ye shuld thus for me<br>Be called an ylle woman,<br>Yet wold I to the grene wode goe,<br>Alone, a banishyd man.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Woman.<br>Though it be songe of olde and yonge<br>That I shuld be to blame,<br>Thers be the charge that speke so large<br>In hurting of my name:<br>For I wyll prove that feythful love<br>It is devoyd of shame;<br>In your distress and hevyness<br>To parte wyth you the same. <br>And sure all thoo that doo not so<br>Trewe lovers are they none;<br>But in my mynde of al mankynde,<br>I love but you alone.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Man.<br>I counsel you, remember how<br>It is noo mayden's lawe<br>Nothing to dought, but to renne out<br>To wode with an outlawe:<br>For ye must there in your hand bere<br>O bowe redy to drawe;<br>And as a theef, thus must ye lyve,<br>Ever in drede and awe. <br>Whereby to you gret harme myght growe<br>Yet I had lever than<br>That I had to the grene wode goe,<br>Alone, a banishyd man.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Woman.<br>I think not nay; but as ye saye,<br>It is noo mayden's lore;<br>But love may make me for your sake, <br>To com on fote to hunte and shote,<br>To get us mete in store:<br>For so that I your company <br>May have, I ask noo more:<br>From whiche to parte, it makith myn herte<br>As colde as ony stone;<br>For in my mynde, of al mankynde,<br>I love but you alone.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Man.<br>For an outlawe, this is the lawe,<br>That men hym take and binde,<br>Wythout pytee, hanged to bee,<br>And waver with the wynde.<br>Yf I had neede, as God forbede,<br>What resons coude ye finde?<br>For sothe I trowe, ye and your bowe<br>Shuld drawe for fere behynde.<br>And noo merveyle; for lytel avayle<br>Were in your council than:<br>Wherefore I to the wode wyl goe,<br>Alone, a banishyd man.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Woman.<br>Full well knowe ye that women be<br>But febyl for to fyght:<br>Noo woman hede it is in deede<br>To be bold as a knyght:<br>Yet in suche fere yf that ye were<br>With enemys day and nyght,<br>I wolde withstonde wyth bowe in honde<br>To greve them as I myght; <br>And you to save as women have<br>From dethe many one;<br>For in my mynde, of al mankynde,<br>I love but you alone.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Man.<br>Yet take gude hede! for ever I drede<br>That ye coude not sustein<br>The thorney-weyes, the depe valeis,<br>The snowe, the frost, the reyn;<br>The cold, the hete: for drye, or wete,<br>We must lodge on the playn,<br>And us above noon other rofe,<br>But a brake, bush, or twaine,<br>Whiche sone shuld greve you, I beleve;<br>And ye wolde gladely than,<br>That I had to the grene wode goe,<br>Alone, a banishyd man.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Woman.<br>Sythe I have here been partynere<br>With you of joy and blysse,<br>I must also parte of your woo<br>Endure, as reson is:<br>Yet am I sure of one pleasure,<br>And, shortly, it is this,<br>That where ye bee, me seemeth, par-dy<br>I could not fare amyss.<br>Without more speche I you beseche<br>That we were soon a gone; <br>For in my mynde, of al mankynde,<br>I love but you alone.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Man.<br>Yf ye goo thedyr, ye must consyder,<br>Whan ye have lust to dyne, <br>Ther shal no mete be for to gete,<br>Nor drink, bere, ale, ne wine;<br>Ne shetis clean, to lye betwene,<br>Made of thred and twyne;<br>Noon other house but levys and bowes,<br>To kever your head and myn.<br>O myn herte swete, this ylle dyet <br>Shuld make you pale and wan;<br>Wherefore I to the wode wyl goe,<br>Alone, a banishyd man.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Woman.<br>Among the wylde dere, such an archier,<br>As men say that ye bee, <br>We may not fayle of good vitayle,<br>Where is so grete plente:<br>And watir cleere of the ryvere<br>Shal be full swete to me,<br>With whiche in hele, I shal right wele<br>Endure, as ye shal see.<br>And er we goe, a bed or two<br>I can provide anone;<br>For in my mynde, of al mankynde,<br>I love but you alone.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Man.<br>Loo! yet before, ye must do more<br>Yf ye wyl go with me;<br>As cute your here up by your ere,<br>Your curtel by the kneel:<br>Wyth bowe in honde, for to wythstonde<br>Your enemys yf nede be;<br>And this same nyght, before daylyght,<br>To wode-ward wyl I flee.<br>And yf ye wylle al this fulfylle,<br>Do it shortly as ye can;<br>Ellis wyl I to the grene wode goe,<br>Alone, a banishyd man.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Woman.<br>I shall as now do more for you<br>Than longeth to womanhede;<br>To short my here, a bow to bere,<br>To shote in tyme of nede.<br>O my sweet moder, before al other,<br>For you have I most drede;<br>But now adew, I must ensue<br>Where Fortune duth me lede.<br>All this make ye, and lete us flee,<br>The day run fast upon; <br>For in my mynde, of al mankynde,<br>I love but you alone.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Man.<br>Nay, nay, not so: ye shal not goe,<br>And I shal telle ye why;<br>Your appetyte is to be light<br>Of love I wele espie;<br>For right as ye have sayde to me<br>In lykewise 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 wyl goe,<br>Alone, a banishyd man.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Woman.<br>Yf ye take hede yt is noo nede <br>Such wordis to say bee me; <br>For ofte ye prey'd, and longe assay'd,<br>Er I you lovid, par-dy;<br>And though that I of auncestry<br>A baron's daughter bee,<br>Yet have you proved how I you loved,<br>A squyer of low degree;<br>And ever shal, what so befalle,<br>To dey therefore anone:<br>For in my mynde, of al mankynde,<br>I love but you alone.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Man.<br>A baron's childe to be begyled,<br>It were a cursed dede:<br>To be felawe with an outlawe<br>Almighty God forbede!<br>Yt bettyr were the pore squyer<br>Alone to forrest spede,<br>Than ye shal saye another daye,<br>That by that wycked dede<br>Ye were betrayed. Wherefore good mayde,<br>The best rede that I can,<br>Is that I to the grene wode goe,<br>Alone, a banishyd man.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Woman.<br>Whatsoever befalle, I never shale<br>Of this thing you upbraid;<br>But yf ye go and leve me so,<br>Then have ye me betraid.<br>Remember ye wele how that ye dele;<br>For yf ye, as ye sayde,<br>Be so unkynde to leve behynde<br>Your love, the Nut-brown Mayde,<br>Trust me truely, that I shal dey<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>Man.<br>Yf that ye went ye shulde repent;<br>For in the forrest now<br>I have purveid me of a mayde,<br>Whom I love more than you. <br>Another fayrer than e'er ye were,<br>I dare it well avowe;<br>And of you bothe eche shude be worthe<br>Wyth other, as I trowe,<br>It were myn ese to live in pese,<br>So wyl I yf I can;<br>Wherefore I to the wode wyl goe,<br>Alone, a banishyd man.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Woman.<br>Though in the wode I understode<br>Ye had a paramour,<br>All this may nought remove my thought,<br>But that I will be your:<br>And she shall fynde me soft and kynde,<br>And curteis every hour,<br>Glad to fulfylle all that she wylle<br>Commaunde me to my power.<br>For had ye loo an hundred moo,<br>Yet wolde I be that one;<br>For in my mynde, of al mankynde,<br>I love but you alone.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Man.<br>Myne own dere love, I see the prove,<br>That ye be kynde and trewe;<br>Of mayde and wyfe, in al my lyfe,<br>The best that ever I knewe.<br>Be merey and glad, be no more sad,<br>The case is chaunged newe;<br>For it were ruthe, that for your trouth,<br>Ye shulde have cause to rewe.<br>Be not dismay'd whatsoever I sayd<br>To you whan I began:<br>I wyl not to the grene wode goe,<br>I am no banishyd man.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Woman.<br>Theis tydingis be more glad to me<br>Than to be made a quene,<br>Yf I were sure they shulde endure;<br>But it is often seene,<br>When men wyle breke promyse, they speke<br>The wordis on the splene.<br>Ye shape some wyle, me to begyle,<br>And stele fro me, I wene.<br>Then were the case wurs than it was, <br>And I more woo begone; <br>For in my mynde, of al mankynde,<br>I love but you alone. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Man.<br>Ye shal not nede further to drede;<br>I wyl not disparage<br>You. God defend, syth you descend<br>Of so grete a lynage.<br>Now understonde, to Westmerlande,<br>Which is my herytage<br>I wyl you bringe, and with a rynge,<br>By way of maryage,<br>I wyl you take, and lady make,<br>As shortly as I can. <br>Thus have ye wone an erlie's sone,<br>And not a banishyd man.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Matthew+Prior">Matthew Prior</a><div class=q>
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Be it right or wrong, these men among
On women do complayne;
Affyrmynge this, how that it is
A labour spent in vaine
To love them wele; for never a dele
They love a man againe:
For lete a man do what he can
The..."></div>
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