XVI

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XVI

It was a lording’s daughter, the fairest one of three,

That liked of her master as well as well might be,

Till looking on an Englishman, the fair’st that eye could see,

Her fancy fell a-turning.

Long was the combat doubtful that love with love did fight,

To leave the master loveless, or kill the gallant knight:

To put in practice either, alas, it was a spite

Unto the silly damsel!

But one must be refused; more mickle was the pain

That nothing could be used to turn them both to gain,

For of the two the trusty knight was wounded with disdain:

Alas, she could not help it!

Thus art with arms contending was victor of the day,

Which by a gift of learnlng did bear the maid away:

Then, lullaby, the learned man hath got the lady gay;

For now my song is ended.