O ladye, wert thou in thy faddle sette,

And once without this walle,

I would not care for thy cruel father,
Nor the worst that might befalle.

Faire Emmeline fighde, fair Emmeline wept,

And aye her heart was woe:

At length he feizde her lilly-white hand,

And downe the ladder he drewe :

And thrice he clafpde her to his brefte,

And kift her tenderlìe:

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The teares that fell from her fair eyes,

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Ranne like the fountayne free.

Hee mounted himselfe on his fteede fo talle,
And her on a faire palfràye,

And flung his bugle about his necke,
And roundlye they rode awaye.

All this beheard her owne damfèlle,

In her bed whereas fhee ley,

Quoth fhee, My lord fhall knowe of this,

Soe I fhall have golde and fee.

Awake, awake, thou baron bolde!

Awake, my noble dame!

Your daughter is fledde with the Child of Elle,

To doe the deede of fhame.

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The

The baron he woke, the baron he rose,
And callde his merrye men all:

"And come thou forth, Sir John the knighte,

The ladye is carried to thrall."

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Faire Emmeline fcant had ridden a mile,

A mile forth of the towné,

When he was aware of her fathers men

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Come galloping over the downe:

And foremost came the carlish knight,

Sir John of the north countràye:

"Nowe stop, nowe stop, thou false taitòure, Nor carry that ladye awaye.

For she is come of hye lynàge,

And was of a ladye borne,

And ill it befeems thee a falfe churles fonne

To carrye her hence to scorne."

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Nowe loud thou lyeft, Sir John the knight,

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Nowe thou doeft lye of mee;

A knight mee gott, and a ladye me bore,

Soe never did none by thee.

But light nowe downe, my ladye faire,

Light downe, and hold my fteed,

While I and this difcourteous knighte

Doe trye this arduous deede.

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But

But light now downe, my deare ladyè,
Light downe, and hold my horfe;
While I and this difcourteous knight
Doe trye cur valours force.

Fair Emmeline fighde, fair Emmeline wept,
And aye her heart was woe,

While twixt her love and the carlish knight
Paft many a baleful blowe.

The Child of Elle hee fought foe well,
As his weapon he wavde amaine,

That foone he had flaine the carlish knight,
And layde him upon the plaine.

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And nowe the baron, and all his men

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Full faft approached nye:

Ah! what may ladye Emmeline doe?
Twere nowe no boote to flye.

Her lover he put his horne to his mouth,

And blew both loud and fhrill,

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And foone he faw his owne merry men

Come ryding over the hill.

"Nowe hold thy hand, thou bold baròn,

Thy daughter I have dearly lovde
Full long and many a day ;-

But with fuch love as holy kirke

Hath freelye fayd wee may.

O give confent, fhee may be mine,
And bleffe a faithfull paire :
My lands and livings are not fmall,
My houfe and lynage faire:

My mother fhe was an erles daughter,
And a noble knyght my fire --

The baron he frownde, and turnde away

With mickle dole and ire.

Fair Emmeline fighde, faire Emmeline wept,

And did all tremblinge ftand:

At lengthe the sprange upon her knee,

And held his lifted hand.

Pardon, my lorde and father deare,

This faire yong knyght and mee:

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Trust me, but for the carlish knyght,
I never had fled from thee.

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Oft have you callde your Emmeline

Your darling and your joye;

O let not then your harth refolves
Your Emmeline deftroye.

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The

The baron he ftroakt his dark-brown cheeke,

And turnde his heade afyde

To whipe awaye the starting teare,

He proudly ftrave to hyde.

In deepe revolving thought he stoode,

And mufde a little space;

Then raifde faire Emmeline from the grounde,

With many a fond embrace.

Here take her, Child of Elle, he fayd,

And gave her lillye hand;

Here take my deare and only child,

And with her half my land:

Thy father once mine honour wrongde

In dayes of youthful pride;

Do thou the injurye repayre

In fondneffe for thy bride.

And as thou love her, and hold her deare,
Heaven profper thee and thine:

And nowe my bleffing wend wi' thee,

My lovelye Emmeline.

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