"Yf ye goo thedyr, ye must consider,
Whan ye have lust to dyne,
Ther shel no mete be fore to gete,195
Nor drinke, bere, ale, ne wine;
Ne shetis clene to lye betwene,
Made of thred and twyne:
Noon other house but levys and bowes
To kever your [hed] and myn.200
Loo, myn herte swete, this ylle dyet
Shuld make you pale and wan:
Wherfore I to the wood wyl goo
Alone, a banysshid man."
"Amonge the wylde dere suche an archier205
As men say that ye bee
Ne may not fayle of good vitayle,
Where is so grete plente;
And watir cleere of the ryvere
Shal be ful swete to me,210
Wyth whiche in hele I shal right wele
Endure, as ye shall see:
And er we go, a bed or too
I can provide anoon;
For in my mynde, of all mankynde215
I love but you alone."
"Loo, yet before, ye must doo more,
Yf ye wyl goo with me,
As cutte your here up by your ere,
Your kirtel by the knee;220
Wyth bowe in hande, for to withstonde
Your enmys, yf nede bee;
And this same nyght, before daylight,
To woodward wyl I flee;
And [if] ye wyl all this fulfylle,225
Doo it shortely as ye can:
Ellis wil I to the grene wode goo
Alone, a banysshyd man."
"I shal as now do more for you
[Than longeth to womanhede],230
To short my here, a bowe to bere,
To shote in tyme of nede:
O my swete moder, before all other,
For you have I most drede!
But now, adiew! I must ensue235
Wher fortune duth me leede.
All this make ye; now lete us flee;
The day [cums] fast upon;
For in my mynde, of all mankynde
I love but you alone."240
"Nay, nay, not soo; ye shal not goo;
And I shal telle you why;
Your appetyte is to be lyght
Of love, I wele aspie:
For right as ye have sayd to me,245
In lyke wyse, hardely,
Ye wolde answere, who so ever it were,
In way of company.
It is sayd of olde, sone hote, sone colde,
And so is a woman;250
Wherfore I too the woode wyl goo
Alone, a banysshid man."
"Yef ye take hede, [yt is] noo nede
Suche wordis to say bee me;
For ofte ye preyd, and longe assayed,255
Or I you lovid, perdé.
And though that I of auncestry
A barons doughter bee,
Yet have you proved how I you loved,
A squyer of lowe degree;260
And ever shal, what so befalle,
To dey therfore anoon;
For in my mynde, of al mankynde
I love but you alone."
"A barons childe to be begyled,265
It were a curssed dede!
To be felow with an outlawe,
Almyghty God forbede!
Yet bettyr were the power squyer
Alone to forest yede,270
Than ye shal saye another day,
That be [my] wyked dede
Ye were betrayed; wherfore, good maide,
The best red that I can
Is that I too the greene wode goo275
Alone, a banysshed man."