XXXIII
And ever he sigh’d and made his moan
[Unto himself] most pitifullye,
‘My father is the Lord of Lorn,
And knows not what’s become of me!’
XXXIV
O then bespake the lady gay
And to her maid she spake anon,
‘Go fetch me hither yon shepherd’s boy:
I’ll know why he doth make his moan.’
XXXV
But when he came to that lady fair
He fell down low upon his knee;
He was [of birth and] so brought up
He needed not to learn courtesye.
XXXVI
‘What is thy name? Where wast thou born?
For whose sake makest thou this moan?’—
‘I am Poor Disaware, in Scotland born,
And I mourn one dead these years agone.’—
XXXVII
‘Tell me [of Scotland], thou bonny child,
Tell me the truth and do not lee:
Knowest thou there the young Lord of Lorn?
He is come into France a-wooing of me.’—