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

AND BALLADS. 51
O call now downe my faire ladye,
O call her downe to mee :
And tell my ladye gay how ficke,
And like to die I bee. 60
Downe then came his ladye faire,
All clad in purple and pall
The rings that were on her fingers,
Cart light throughout the hall.
What is your will, my owne wed-lord ?
What is your will with mee ?
O fee, my ladye deere, how ficke,
And like to die I bee.
And thou be licke, my own wed-lord,
Soe fore it grieveth mee : J%
But my five maydens and myfelfe
Will make the bedde for thee :
And at the waking of your firil fleepe,
We will a hot drinke make :
And at the waking of your firft fleepe, 75
Your ibrrowes we will flake.
He put a iilk cote on his backe,
And mail of manye a fold :
And hee putt a iteele cap on his head,
Was gilt with good red gold.
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