Then at last, ryding fast, he had lost quite

All his lords in the wood in the darke night.

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Wandering thus wearilye, all alone vp and downe,

With a rude miller he mett att the last;

Asking the ready way vnto fayre Nottingham,

‘Sir,’ quoth the miller, ‘I meane not to iest,

Yett I thinke what I thinke; truth for to say,

You doe not lightlye goe out of your way.’

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