'Scho led seuen grew houndis in a leeshe;'
And seuen raches by hir they rone; Scho bare a horne abowte hir halse; And vnder hir belte full many a flone. 40
Thomas laye and sawe that syghte, Vnder nethe ane semly tree; He sayd, "yone es Marye most of myghte, That bare that childe that dyede for mee.
"But if I speke with yone lady bryghte, 45 I hope myn herte will bryste in three; Now sall I go with all my myghte, Hir for to mete at Eldoun tree."
Thomas rathely vpe he rase, And he rane ouer that mountayne hye; 50 Gyff it be als the storye sayes, He hir mette at Eldone tree.
He knelyde down appon his knee, Vndir nethe that grenwode spraye:-- And sayd, "lufly ladye! rewe one mee; 55 Qwene of heuen, als thu wele maye!"
Then spake that lady milde of thoghte:-- "Thomas, late swylke wordes bee; Qwene of heuenne, am I noghte, For I tuke neuer so heghe degre. 60
"Bot I ame of ane other contree, If I be payrelde moste of prysse; I ryde aftyre this wylde fee; My raches rynnys at my devyse."
"If thu be parelde moste of prysse, 65 And here rydis thus in thy folye, Of lufe, lady, als thu art wysse, Thou gyffe me leue to lye the bye."
Scho sayde, "thu man, that ware folye; I praye the, Thomas, thu lat me bee; 70 Ffor I saye the full sekirlye, That syne will fordoo all my beaute."
"Now lufly ladye rewe on mee, And I will euer more with the duelle; Here my trouthe I 'plyghte to thee,' 75 Wethir thu will in heuen or helle."
"Mane of molde, thu will me marre, But yitt thu sall hafe all thy will; And trowe it wele, thu chewys the werre, Ffor alle my beaute will thu spylle." 80
Down than lyghte that lady bryghte, Vndir nethe that grene wode spraye; And, als the storye tellis full ryghte, Seuen sythis by hir he laye.
Scho sayd, "man, the lykes thi playe: 85 What byrde in boure maye delle with the?
Thou merrys me all this longe daye; I pray the, Thomas, late me bee."
Thomas stode wpe in that stede, And he byhelde that lady gaye; 90 Hir hare it hange all ouer hir hede, Hir eghne semede owte, that are were graye.
And all the riche clothynge was awaye, That he byfore sawe in that stede; Hir a schanke blake, hir other graye, 95 And all hir body lyke the lede;
Thomas laye, and sawe that syghte, Vndir nethe that grenewod tree.
Than sayd Thomas, "allas! allas!
In faythe this es a dullfull syghte; 100 How arte thu fadyde thus in the face, That schane byfore als the sonne so bryght!"
Scho sayd, "Thomas, take leve at sone and mone, And als at lefe that grewes on tree; This twelmoneth sall thu with me gone, 105 And medill-erthe thu sall non see."
He knelyd downe appon his knee, Vndir nethe that grenewod spraye; And sayd, "Lufly lady![L109] rewe on mee, Mylde qwene of heuen, als thu beste maye." 110
"Allas!" he sayd, "and wa es mee, I trewe my dedis will wirke me care; My saulle, Jhesu, byteche I the, Whedir come that euer my banes sall fare."
Scho ledde hym in at Eldone hill, 115 Vndir nethe a derne lee; Whare it was dirk as mydnyght myrke, And euer the water till his knee.
The montenans of dayes three, He herd bot swoghyne of the flode; 120 At the laste, he sayde, "full wa es mee!
Almaste I dye, for fawte of fude."
Scho lede hym in till a faire herbere, Whare frwte was 'growyng in gret plentee;'
Pers and appill, bothe rype thay were, 125 The date, and als the damasee;
The fygge, and als so the wyne-berye; The nyghtyngales lyggande on thair neste; The papeioyes faste abowte gan flye; And throstylls sange, wolde hafe no reste. 130
He pressede to pulle frowte with his hande, Als man for fude that was nere faynt; Scho sayd, "Thomas, thu late tham stande, Or ells the fende the will atteynt.
"If thu it plokk, sothely to say, 135 Thi saule gose to the fyre of helle; It comes neuer owte or Domesdaye, Bot ther in payne ay for to duelle.
"Thomas, sothely, I the hyghte, Come lygge thyn hede down on my knee, 140 And 'thou' sall se the fayreste syghte, That euer sawe man of thi contree."
He did in hye als scho hym badde; Appone hir knee his hede he layde, Ffor hir to paye he was full glade, 145 And than that lady to him sayde--
"Seese thu nowe yone faire waye, That lyggis ouer yone heghe montayne?-- Yone es the waye to heuen for aye, When synfull sawles are passed ther payne. 150
"Seese thu nowe yone other waye, That lygges lawe by nethe yone rysse?
Yone es the waye, the sothe to saye, Vnto the joye of paradyse.
"Seese thu yitt yone third waye, 155 That ligges vnder yone grene playne?
Yone es the waye, with tene and traye, Whare synfull saulis suffiris thare payne.
"Bot seese thu nowe yone forthe waye, That lygges ouer yone depe delle? 160 Yone es the way, so waylawaye, Vnto the byrnande fyre of hell.
"Seese thu yitt yone faire castelle, That standes vpone yone heghe hill?
Of towne and towre, it beris the belle; 165 In erthe es none lyk it vntill.
"Ffor sothe, Thomas, yone es myn awenn, And the kynges of this countree; Bot me ware leuer hanged and drawen, Or that he wyste thou laye me by. 170
"When thu commes to yone castelle gay, I pray the curtase man to bee; And whate so any man to the saye, Luke thu answere none bott mee.
"My lorde es seruede at ylk a mese, 175 With thritty knyghttis faire and free; I sail saye, syttande at the dasse, I tuke thi speche byyonde the see."
Thomas still als stane he stude.
And he byhelde that lady gaye; 180 Scho come agayne als faire and gude, And al so ryche one hir palfraye.
Hir grewe hundis fillide with dere blode; Hir rachis couplede, by my faye; Scho blewe hir home with mayne and mode, 185 Vnto the castelle scho tuk the waye.
In to the haulle sothely scho went; Thomas foloued at hir hande; Than ladyes come, bothe faire and gent, With curtassye to hit knelande. 190
Harpe and fethill bothe thay fande, Getterne, and als so the sawtrye; Lutte and rybybe, bothe gangande, And all manere of mynstralsye.
The most meruelle that Thomas thoghte, 195 When that he stode appon the flore; Ffor feftty hertes in were broghte, That were bothe 'largely' grete and store.
Raches laye lapande in the blode, Cokes come with dryssynge knyfe; 200 They brittened tham als thay were wode; Reuelle amanges thame was full ryfe.
Knyghtis dawnsede by three and three, Thare was revelle, gamen, and playe, Lufly ladyes, faire and free, 205 That satte and sange one riche araye.
Thomas duellide in that solace More than I yowe save, perde; Till one a daye, so hafe I grace, My lufly lady sayde to mee: 210
"Do busk the, Thomas,--the busk agayne,[L211]
Ffor thu may here no lengare be; Hye the faste, with myghte and mayne; I sall the brynge till Eldone tree."