With a comely lovely grace,
And took Will Scadlock by the hand,
Saying, Here I make my choice.
With that a noble lord stept forth,
Of Maxfield earl was he,
Who look’d Will Scadlock in the face,
And wept most bitterly.
Quoth he, I had a son like thee,
Whom I lov’d wondrous well,
But he is gone, or rather dead,