Harpe and fethill bothe thay fande,
Getterne, and als so the sawtrye;
Lutte and rybybe, bothe gangande,
And all manere of mynstralsye.
195 The most meruelle that Thomas thoghte,
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,
200 Cokes come with dryssynge knyfe;
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,
205 Lufly ladyes, faire and free,
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,
210 My lufly lady sayde to mee:
"Do busk the, Thomas,—the [busk agayne],
Ffor thu may here no lengare be;
Hye the faste, with myghte and mayne;
I sall the brynge till Eldone tree."
215 Thomas sayde than with heuy chere;
"Lufly lady, nowe late me bee;
Ffor certis, lady, I hafe bene here
Noghte bot the space of dayes three.
"Ffor sothe, Thomas, als I the telle,
220 Thou hase bene here thre yere and more;
Bot langere here thu may noghte dwelle;
The skylle I sall the telle wherefore.
"To morne, of helle the foulle fende
Amange this folke will feche his fee;
225 And thu arte mekill man and hende,
I trowe full wele he wolde chese the.
"Ffor all the gold that euer may bee,
Ffro hethyn unto the worldis ende,
Thou bese neuer betrayede for mee;
230 Therefore with me I rede thou wende."