|Share page||Visit Us On FB|
' But come you hither, master,' quoth he, ' Lay your head down on this stone ;
For I will waken you, master dear, Afore it be time to gone,'
But up then rose that lither lad,
And did on hose and shoon; A collar he cast upon his neck,
He seemed a gentleman. x And when he came to that lady's chamber
He tirl'd upon a pin ; The lady was true of her promise,
Rose up and let him in.
He did not kiss that lady gay
When he came nor when he yode;
And sore mistrusted that lady gay He was of some churle's blood.
But home then came that lither lad, And did off his hose and shoon,
And cast that collar from 'bout his neck; He was but a churle's son:
' Awaken,' quoth he, 'my master dear, I hold it time to be gone.
' For I have saddled your horse, master,
Well bridled I have your steed ; Have not I served a good breakfast
When time comes I have need ?'
lither] rascally, vile. tirl'd] rattled. yode] went.