Let never again soe old a man
Marrye soe yonge a wife,
As did old Robin of Portingale;
Who may rue all the dayes of his life.
For the mayors daughter of Lin, God wott5
He chose her to his wife,
And thought with her to have lived in love,
But they fell to hate and strife.
They scarce were in their wed-bed laid,
And scarce was hee asleepe,10
But upp shee rose, and forth shee goes,
To the steward, and gan to weepe.
"Sleepe you, wake you, faire Sir Gyles?
Or be you not within?
Sleepe you, wake you, faire Sir Gyles,15
Arise and let me inn."
"O I am waking, sweete," he said,
"Sweete ladye, what is your will?"
"I have [onbethought] me of a wile
How my wed lord weel spill.20
"Twenty-four good knights," shee sayes,
"That dwell about this towne,
Even twenty-four of my next cozens
Will helpe to dinge him downe."
All that beheard his litle footepage,25
As he watered his masters steed;
And for his masters sad perille
His verry heart did bleed.
He mourned, sighed and wept full sore;
I sweare by the holy roode,30
The teares he for his master wept
Were [blent] water and bloude.