thyme (and sweeter napkin ne’er had king in all the world), he took up his flask and began talking to himself as though he were another man, and answering himself as though he were somebody else.

The Friar talketh to himself.

“Dear lad, thou art the sweetest fellow in all the world, I do love thee as a lover loveth his lass. La, thou dost make me shamed to speak so to me in this solitary place, no one being by, and yet if thou wilt have me say so, I do love thee as thou lovest me. Nay then, wilt thou not take a drink of good Malmsey? After thee, lad, after thee. Nay, I beseech thee, sweeten the draught with thy lips (here he passed the flask from his right hand to his left). An thou wilt force it on me so I must needs do thy bidding, yet with the more pleasure do I so as I drink thy very great health (here he took a long, deep draught). And now, sweet lad, ’tis thy turn next (here he passed the bottle from his left hand back again to his right). I take it, sweet chuck, and here’s wishing thee as much good as thou wishest me.” Saying this he took another draught, and truly he drank enough for two.

All this time merry Robin lay upon the bank and listened, while his stomach so quaked with laughter that he was forced to press his palm across his mouth to keep it from bursting forth; for, truly, he would not have spoiled such a goodly jest for the half of Nottinghamshire.

The Friar singeth the merry song of “The Loving Youth and the Scornful Maid” in two voices.

Having gotten his breath from his last draught, the Friar began talking again in this wise: “Now, sweet lad, canst thou not sing me a song? La, I know not, I am but in an ill voice this day; prythee ask me not; dost thou not hear how I croak like a frog? Nay, nay, thy voice is as sweet as any bullfinch; come, sing, I prythee, I would rather hear thee sing than eat a fair feast. Alas, I would fain not sing before one that can pipe so well and hath heard so many goodly songs and ballads, ne‘ertheless, an thou wilt have it so, I will do my best. But now methinks that thou and I might sing some fair song together; dost thou not know a certain dainty little catch called ‘The Loving Youth and the Scornful Maid’? Why, truly, methinks I have heard it ere now. Then dost thou not think that thou couldst take the lass’s part gif I take the lad’s? I know not but I will try; begin thou with the lad and I will follow with the lass.”

Then, singing first with a voice deep and gruff, and anon in one high and squeaking, he blithely trolled the merry catch ofTHE LOVING YOUTH AND THE SCOURNFUL MAID.

HE.

“Ah, it’s wilt thou come with me, my love?

And it’s wilt thou, love, be mine?

For I will give unto thee, my love,

Gay knots and ribbons so fine.

I’ll woo thee, love, on my bended knee,

And I’ll pipe sweet songs to none but thee.

Then it’s hark! hark! hark!

To the wingèd lark.

And it’s hark to the cooing dove!

And the bright daffodil

Groweth down by the rill,

So come thou and be my love.

SHE.

“Now get thee away, young man so fine;

Now get thee away, I say;

For my true love shall never be thine,

And so thou hadst better not stay.

Thou art not a fine enough lad for me,

So I’ll wait till a better young man I see.

For it’s hark! hark! hark!

To the wingèd lark,

And it’s hark to the cooing dove!

And the bright daffodil

Groweth down by the rill,

Yet never I’ll be thy love.

HE.

“Then straight will I seek for another fair she,

For many a maid can be found,

And as thou wilt never have aught of me,

By thee will I never be bound.

For never is a blossom in the field so rare,

But others are found that are just as fair.

So it’s hark! hark! hark!

To the joyous lark,

And it’s hark to the cooing dove!

And the bright daffodil

Groweth down by the rill,

And I’ll seek me another dear love.

SHE.

“Young man, turn not so very quick away

Another fair lass to find.

Methinks I have spoken in haste to-day,

Nor have I made up my mind,

And if thou only wilt stay with me,

I’ll love no other, sweet lad, but thee.”

Here Robin could contain himself no longer but