founded his 'Henry and Emma' upon it, fixes its date about 1400; but others, judging from its comparatively modern language, suppose it to have been composed subsequently to the time of Surrey. The poem opens with a declaration of the author that the faith of woman is stronger than is generally supposed; in proof of which he purposes to relate the trial to which the 'Nut-Brown Mayde' was exposed by her lover. The following stanzas form a dialogue between the pair:

THE NUT-BROWN MAID.

HE. It standeth so; a deed is do',
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 may 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 world's bliss,

That changeth as the moon!

My summer's day in lusty May

Is darked 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 ye done?

All my welfare to sorrow and care
Should change if ye 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 afterwards, 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 labor were in vain.

And thus I do, and pray to you,

As heartily 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;

G

Shall never be said, the Nut-Brown Maid

Was to her love unkind: Make you ready', for so am I,

Although it were anon;

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 lever than,

That I had to the green wood go,

Alone, a banished man.

SHE.-I think not nay, but, as ye say,

It is no maiden's lore:

But love may make me for your sake,

As I have said before,

To come on foot, to hunt and shoot

To get us meat in store;

For so that I your company

May have, I ask no more:

From which to part it makes my heart

As cold as any stone;

For, in my mind, of all mankind

I love but you alone.

HE.-Yet take good heed, for ever I dread

That ye could not sustain

The thorny ways, the deep valley's,

The snow, the frost, the rain,

The cold, the heat; for, dry or weet,

We must lodge on the plain;

And us above, none other roof

But a brake bush or twain:

Which soon should grieve you I believe,

And ye would gladly than

That I had to the green wood go,

Alone, a banished man.

SHE.-Sith I have here been partinèr

With you of joy and bliss,

I must also part of your wo

Endure, as reason is.

Yet I am sure of one pleasùre,

And shortly, it is this,

That, where ye be, me seemeth, pardie,

I could not fare amiss.

Without more speech, I you beseech

That ye were soon agone,

For, to my mind, of all mankind

I love but you alone.

HE. If ye go thither, ye must consider,
When ye have list to dine,

There shall no meat be for your gete,

Nor drink, beer, ale, nor wine, Nor sheets clean, to lie between,

Made of thread and twine;

None other house but leaves and boughs,
To cover your head and mine.
Oh mine heart sweet, this evil diet,
Should make you pale and wan;

Wherefore I will to the green wood go,
Alone, a banished man.

SHE.-Among the wild deer, such an archér,
As men say that ye be,
Ye may not fail of good vittail,
Where is so great plentie.
And water clear of the rivér,

Shall be full sweet to me,

With which in heal, I shall right weel

Endure, as ye shall see;

And, ere we go, a bed or two

I can provide anone;

For, in my mind, of all mankind

I love but you alone.

HE.-Lo yet before, ye must do more,

If ye will go with me;

As cut your hair up by your ear,

Your kirtle to the knee;

With bow in hand, for to withstand

Your enemies, if need be;

And this same night, before daylight,

To the wood-ward will I flee.

If that ye will all this fulfil,

Do't shortly as ye can:

Else will I to the green wood go,

Alone, a banished man.

SHE.-I shall, as now, do more for you,

Than 'longeth to womanheed,

To short my hair, a bow to bear,

To shoot in time of need.

Oh, my sweet mother, before all other

For you I have most dread;

But now adieu! I must ensue

Where fortune doth me lead.

All this make ye: Now let us flee;

The day comes fast upon:

For, in my mind, of all mankind

I love but you alone.

HE.-Nay, nay, not so; ye shall not go

And I shall tell you why;

Your appetite1 is to be light

Of love I weel espy:

For like as ye have said to me,

In likewise, hardily,

Ye would answer whoever it were,

In way of company.

It is said of old, soon hot, soon cold;
And so is a woman,

Wherefore I to the wood will go,

Alone, a banished man.

SHE.-If ye take heed, it is no need
Such words to say by me;

For oft ye prayed and me assayed,
Ere I loved you, pardie:

And though that I, of ancestry,

A baron's daughter be,

Yet have you proved how I you loved,

A squire of low degree;

And ever shall whatso befal;

To die therefore anon;

For, in my mind, of all mankind
I love but you alone.

HE.-A baron's child to be beguiled,

It were a cursed deed!

To be fellàw with an outlaw,

Almighty God forbid !

It better were, the poor squièr

Alone to forest yede,

Than I should say, another day,

That, by my cursed deed,

We were betrayed: wherefore, good maid,

The best rede that I can,

Is that I to the green wood go
Alone, a banished man.

SHE. Whatever befall, I never shall,

Of this thing you upbraid;

But, if ye go, and leave me so,

Then have ye me betrayed;

Remember weel, how that you deal;
For if ye, as ye said,

Be so unkind to leave behind,

Your love, the Nut-Brown Maid,

Trust me truly, that I shall die

Soon after ye be gone;

For in my mind, of all mankind

I love but you alone.

HE.-If that ye went, ye should repent;
For in the forest now

I have purveyed me of a maid,
Whom I love more than you;

1 Disposition.

HE.-Mine own dear love, I see thee prove,

That ye be kind and true;

Of maid and wife, in all my life,

The best that ever I knew.

Be merry and glad; no more be sad;

The case is changed now;

For it were ruth, that, for your truth,

Ye should have cause to rue.

Be not dismayed; whatever I said
To you, when I began;

I will not to the green wood go,

I am no banished man.

SHE. These tidings be more glad to me,

Than to be made a queen,

If I were sure they would endure:

But it is often seen,

When men will break promise, they speak

The wordes on the spleen.

Ye shape some wile me to beguile,

And steel from me, I ween:

Than were the case worse than it was,

And I more woe-begone:

For, in my mind, of all mankind

I love but you alone.

HE.-Ye shall not need further to dread:

I will not disparage,

You (God defend!) sith ye descend

Of so great a lineage.

Now understand; to Westmoreland,

Which is mine heritage,

I will you bring; and with a ring,

By way of marriàge,