LVII
‘Stay thy harpe, thou proud harpèr,
For God’s love I pray thee;
For and thou playes as thou beginns,
Thou’lt till[302] my bryde from mee.’
LVIII
He stroake upon his harpe againe,
And play’d a pretty thinge;
The ladye lough a loud laughter,
As shee sate by the king.
LIX
Saies, ‘Sell me thy harpe, thou proud harpèr,
And thy stringës all;
For as many gold nobles thou shall have,
As heere bee ringes in the hall.’
LX
‘What wold ye doe with my harpe,’ he sayd,
‘If I did sell itt yee?’—
‘To playe my wiffe and me a fitt[303],
When abed together wee bee.’
LXI
‘Now sell me,’ quoth hee, ‘thy bryde soe gay,
As shee sitts by thy knee;
And as many gold nobles I will give
As leaves been on a tree.’