Reliques of ancient English poetry: consisting of old heroic ballads ...

AND BALLADS. 67
Is not thy hawke upon the pearche, 65
Thy horfe eating corne and haye ?
And thou a gaye ladye within thine armes
And wouldft thou be awaye ?
With that lord Barnard came to the dore,
And lighted upon a ftone ; 70
And he pulled out three filver keyes,
And opened the dores eche one.
He lifted up the coverlett,
He lifted up the fheete ;
How now, how now, thou little Mufgrave, 75
Doft find my gaye ladye fweete ?
I find her fweete, quoth little Mufgrave,
The more is my griefe and paine ;
Ide gladlye give three hundred poundes
That I were on yonder plaine. 80
Arife, arife, thou little Mufgrave,
And put thy cloathes nowe on,
It fhall never be faid in my countree,
That I killed a naked man.
I have two fwordes in one fcabbarde, 85
Full deare they coll my purfe
And thou fhalt have the bell of them,
And I will have the worfe.
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