She stepp'd to him as red as any rose,

Catching hold of his bridle-ring:

"Pray you, kind fir, give me one penny, To ease my weary limb."

"I prithee fweet-heart, can't thou tell me,
Where that thou waft born."
At Iflington, kind fir, faid fhe,
Where I have had many a fcorn.

"I prithee, fweet-heart, can't thou tell me, Whether thou dost know

The bailiffs daughter of Iflington."

"She's dead, fir, long ago."

"Then will I fell my goodly fteed,

My faddle and my bow;

I will into fome far country,

Where no man doth me know."

"Oftay, O ftay, thou goodly youth,
She's alive, fhe is not dead;
Here fhe ftandeth by thy fide,
And is ready to be thy bride."

"O farewell grief, and welcome joy, Ten thousand times and more;

For now I have feen mine own true love,

That I thought I should have feen no more!"

BALLAD

BALLAD XI.

THE KING OF FRANCE'S DAUGHTER. *

N the days of old,

IN

When fair France did flourish,

Stories plainly told,

Lovers felt annoy:

The king a daughter had,

Beauteous, fair, and lovely,
Which made her father glad,
She was his only joy;
A prince from England came,
Whofe deeds did merit fame,

He woo'd her long, and lo, at last,
Look what he did require,

She granted his defire;

Their hearts in one were linked fast.
Which when her father proved,
Lord, how he was moved,

And tormented in his mind!
He fought for to prevent them,
And to discontent them,

Fortune croffed lovers kind.

The full title in the old copies, is "An excellent ballad of a C prince of Englands courtship to the king of France's daughter, and how the prince was difafterously flain, and how the aforefaid princess was afterwards married to a Forrefter."

When

When these princes twain

Were thus barr'd of pleasure, Through the kings disdain, Which their joys withstood: The lady lock'd up clofe

Her jewels and her treasure,

Having no remorse,

Of state and royal blood:

In homely poor array,

She went from court away,

To meet her love and hearts delight :

Who in a forest great

Had taken up his feat,

To wait her coming in the night :
But lo! what fudden danger
To this princely stranger
Chanced as he fat alone;
By outlaws he was robbed,
And with poniard stabbed,
Uttering many a dying groan.

The princefs armed by him,
And by true desire,
Wandering all that night,
Without dread at all;
Still unknown fhe pass'd,
In her ftrange attire,
Coming at the laft,

Within echos call,

You fair woods, quoth fhe,

Honoured may you be,

Harbouring my hearts delight:

Which

Which doth encompass here,
My joy and only dear,

My trufty friend and comely knight.
Sweet, I come unto thee,

Sweet, I come to woo thee,

That thou may'ft not angry be,

For my long delaying,

And thy courteous staying,

Amends for all I'll make to thee.

Paffing thus alone,

Through the filent foreft,

Many a grievous groan,

Sounded in her ear; Where she heard a man

To lament the forest

Chance that ever came ;
Forc'd by deadly ftrife,
Farewell, my dear, quoth he,
Whom I fhall never fee,

For why my life is at an end;
For thy fweet fake I die,
Through villains cruelty,

To fhow I am a faithful friend:

Here lie I a bleeding,

While my thoughts are feeding,

On the rarest beauty found;

O hard hap that may be,
Little knows my lady,

My hearts blood lies on the ground.

239

With

With that he gave a groan,

That did break asunder All the tender ftrings

Of his gentle heart; She who knew his voice, At his tale did wonder, All her former joys

Did to grief convert : Straight fhe ran to fee, Who this man should be,

That fo like her love did speak;

And found, when as he came,

Her lovely lord lay flain,

Smear'd in blood, which life did break:

Which when the efpied,

Lord, how sore she cried !

Her forrows could not counted be;

Her eyes like fountains running,

While fhe cried out, My darling,

Would God that I had died for thee!

His pale lips, alas!

Twenty times fhe kiffed,

And his face did wash

With her brinish tears;

Every bleeding wound,

Her fair face bedewed, Wiping off the blood

With her golden hair: Speak, my love, quoth fhe, Speak, dear prince, to me,

One