A secret....

It was a lording's daughter, the fairest one of

three,

That liked of her master, as well as well might

be,

Til looking on an Englishman, the fairest 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 learning did bear the maid

away:

Then lullaby, the learned man hath got the lady

gay,