"And I," quoth he, "will not forsake
Sweete Maudlin in her sorrow up and downe:
In wealth and woe thy part Ile take,
And bring thee safe to Padua towne."
And after many wearie steps145
In Padua they safely doe arrive at last:
For very joy her heart it leapes;
She thinkes not of her sorrowes past.
Condemned to dye hee was, alas!
Except he would from his religion turne;150
But rather then hee would to masse,
In fiery flames he vow'd to burne.
Now doth Maudlin weepe and waile:
Her joy is chang'd to weeping, sorrow, griefe and care;
But nothing could her plaints prevaile,155
For death alone must be his share.
Shee walkes under the prison walls,
Where her true love doth lye and languish in distresse;
Most wofully for foode he calls,
When hunger did his heart oppresse.160
He sighs and sobs and makes great moane:
"Farewell," hee said, "sweete England, now for evermore,
And all my friends that have me knowne
In Bristow towne with wealth and store.
"But most of all farewell," quoth hee,165
"My owne true love, sweet Maudlin, whom I left behind;
For never more shall I see thee.
Woe to thy father most unkind!
"How well were I, if thou wert here,
With thy faire hands to close these wretched eyes:170
My torments easie would appeare;
My soule with joy shall scale the skies."