A baron's faire daughter stept forth in the nighte,
To search for her father, who fell in the fight,
And seeing yong Montfort, where gasping he laye,
Was moved with pitye, and broughte him awaye.
In secrette she nurst him, and swaged his paine,
While he throughe the realme was beleev'd to be slaine:
At lengthe his faire bride she consented to bee,
And made him glad father of prettye Bessee.
And nowe, lest oure foes our lives sholde betraye
We clothed ourselves in beggars' arraye;