1.
All in a garden green,
where late I laid me down
upon a bank of camomile,
where I saw upon a stile,
sitting, a country clown,
holding within his arms
a comely country maid;
courting her with all his skill,
working her unto his will,
thus to her he said:
‘Kiss me in kindness,
sweet heart’, quoth he.
‘Sir, not for twenty
good pounds’, quoth she.
He said, ‘Say not so.’
She said, ‘Let me go.’
‘Stay, sweet heart’, quoth he.
‘Fie! how you ruffle me.’
‘What a life is this.’
‘Lord, how I love thee,
sweet heart’, quoth she.
. . . .
. . . .
‘Fie! for shame, I say:
take your hand away.’
‘Sweet,’ quoth he, ‘be still;
though against thy will,
I must have a kiss.’
2.
‘Sweet, I’ll forsake my hold
if thou will tarry still;
and here I make a vow to thee
thou shalt not be toucht, for me,
more than thy good will.’
‘Hands off, for shame!’ she said,
in faith, you are to blame.
If anybody should us see,
what a blemish would it be
to my honest name.’
‘Sit but a little
by me on this stile;
and I will bring thee
on thy way a mile.’
There she sat her down
by this lovely clown.
‘Sweet!’ quoth he,
‘Wilt thou wed with me?’
‘No! good faith, not I!’
‘Let me but lay
my hand upon thy knee.’
‘Fie!’ quoth the bonny lass,
‘That may not be.’
‘Sweet, come kiss me then.’
‘Maids must kiss no men:
fie! for shame I say.’
‘If you say me “nay”,
Then for love I die.’
3.
‘Lord, how you hurt my hand;
for God’s sake, let me go.
By my faith and my troth,
I did little think, forsooth!
you would have served me so.’
‘Grant me my suit;’ quoth he,
‘and then I’ll let thy go:
I pray thee, do me not deny,
gentle sweating, but say I!’
Still she answerèd, ‘No!’
‘Let me but lay
my hand upon thy knee.’
‘No! let me go,
I must be gone’, quoth she.
‘If my mother knew
that I were with you,
woe should be my part.’
‘Stay!’ quoth he, ‘sweet heart!
she shall never know.’
Then did he carry her
behind a tree.
What they did there
is unknown to me;
but I heard her say
when she came away,
making low curtsy,
‘Once again’, quoth she,
‘kiss me ere you go.’
4.
Then they went hand in hand,
a furlong and more;
where, as they parted lovingly,
she put her finger in the eye,
and did weep full sore.
Sighing, ‘Sweet heart,’ she said,
‘Since now you have me won
to yield and let you have your will,
if you would not love me still,
I were quite undone.’
‘Sweet!’ then quoth he,
‘I pray thee be content.’
‘If this be known,’ quoth she,
‘I am sure I shall be shent.’
‘Hie thee home,’ quoth he,
‘for I do swear to thee,
long it shall not be
ere I come to thee
to hear what you wilt say.’
Lore, how her colour
went and came for shame.
As other maids
having done the same.
Though they make a show,
and say often ‘No!’
they will take it, tho
‖: they cry, ‘fie away!’ :‖