XXIV

He call’d unto his horse-keeper,
‘Make ready you my steed!’
So did he to his chamberlain,
‘Go fetch my lady’s weed[346]!’

XXV

O he dress’d himself in the holland smock,
[The mantle and the snood],
And he cast a lease[347] upon his back,
And he rode to Silver Wood.

XXVI

And when he came to Silver Wood,
No body saw he there
But Childe Maurice upon a block
Combing his yellow hair.

XXVII

Childe Maurice sat in Silver Wood,
He whistled and he sang:
‘I think I see the woman come
That I have lovèd lang.’

XXVIII

But then stood up him Childe Maurice
His mother to help from horse:
‘O alas, alas!’ says Childe Maurice,
‘My mother was ne’er so gross!’