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146 THE NUTBUOWNE MAIDE.
Trusting to shewe, in wordis fewe,
That men have an ille use, *>
To ther owne shame, wymen to blame,
And causeles them accuse : Therfore to you I answere now,
Alle wymen to excuse, ' Myn owne hert dere, with you what chiere ? «
I prey you telle anoon : For in my mynde, of all mankynde
I love but you allon.' "
" It stondith so : a deed is do
Wherof moche harme shal growe. «>
My desteny is for to dey
A shamful dethe, I trowe, Or ellis to flee,—the ton must be :
None other wey I knowe, But to withdrawe as an outlaw, «
And take me to my bowe. "Wherfore, adew, my owne hert trewe,
None other red I can ; For I muste to the grene wode goo, •
Alone, a bannysshed man." eo
" O Lorde, what is this worldis blisse
That chaungeth as the mone ! My somers day in lusty May
Is derked before the none.