41
Bot seese þou nowe ȝone ferthe waye,
Þat lygges ouer ȝone depe delle?
ȝone es þe waye, so waylawaye!
Vn-to þe birnande fyre of helle.
42
Seese þou ȝitt ȝone faire castelle,
[Þat standis ouer] ȝone heghe hill?
Of towne and towre it beris þe belle;
In erthe es none lyke it vn-till.
43
Ffor sothe, Thomas, ȝone es myne awenne,
And þe kynges of this countree;
Bot me ware leuer be hanged and drawene,
Or þat he wyste þou laye by me.
44
When þou commes to ȝone castelle gay,
I pray þe curtase mane to bee;
And whate so any mane to þe saye,
Luke þou answere none bott mee.
45 My lorde es seruede at ylk a mese
With thritty knyghttis faire and free;
I sall saye, syttande at the desse,
I tuke thi speche by-ȝonde the see
46
Thomas still als stane he stude,
And he by-helde þat lady gaye;
Scho come agayne als faire and gude,
And also ryche one hir palfraye.
47
Hir grewehundis fillide with dere blode,
Hir raches couplede, by my faye;
Scho blewe hir horne with mayne and mode,
Vn-to þe castelle scho tuke þe waye.
48
In-to þe haulle sothely scho went,
Thomas foloued at hir hande;
Than ladyes come, bothe faire and gent,
With curtassye to hir knelande.
49
Harpe and fethill bothe þay fande,
Getterne, and als so þe sawtrye;
Lutte and ryhyne bothe gangande,
And all manere of mynstralsye.
50
Þe most meruelle þat Thomas thoghte,
Whene þat he stode appone the flore;
Ffor feftty hertis in were broghte,
Þat were bothe grete and store.