And foremost came the carlish knight, Sir John of the north countraye: "Nowe stop, nowe stop, thou false traitoure, Nor carry that ladye awaye. 120
"For she is come of hye lynage, And was of a ladye borne, And ill it beseems thee, a false churles sonne, To carrye her hence to scorne."
"Nowe loud thou lyest, Sir John the knight, 125 Nowe thou doest lye of mee; A knight mee gott, and a ladye me bore, Soe never did none by thee.
"But light nowe downe, my ladye faire, Light downe, and hold my steed, 130 While I and this discourteous knighte Doe trye this arduous deede.
"But light now downe, my deare ladye, Light downe, and hold my horse; While I and this discourteous knight 135 Doe trye our valours force."
Fair Emmeline sighde, fair Emmeline wept, And aye her heart was woe, While twixt her love and the carlish knight Past many a baleful blowe. 140
The Child of Elle hee fought soe well, As his weapon he wavde amaine, That soone he had slaine the carlish knight, And layde him upon the plaine.
And nowe the baron, and all his men 145 Full fast approached nye: Ah! what may ladye Emmeline doe? Twere now no boote to flye.
Her lover he put his horne to his mouth, And blew both loud and shrill, 150 And soone he saw his owne merry men Come ryding over the hill.
"Nowe hold thy hand, thou bold baron, I pray thee, hold thy hand, Nor ruthless rend two gentle hearts, 155 Fast knit in true loves band.
"Thy daughter I have dearly lovde Full long and many a day; But with such love as holy kirke Hath freelye sayd wee may. 160
"O give consent shee may be mine, And blesse a faithfull paire; My lands and livings are not small, My house and lynage faire.
"My mother she was an earles daughter, 165 And a noble knyght my sire----" The baron he frownde, and turnde away With mickle dole and ire.
Fair Emmeline sighde, faire Emmeline wept, And did all tremblinge stand; 170 At lengthe she sprange upon her knee, And held his lifted hand.
"Pardon, my lorde and father deare, This faire yong knyght and mee: Trust me, but for the carlish knyght, 175 I never had fled from thee.
"Oft have you callde your Emmeline Your darling and your joye; O let not then your harsh resolves Your Emmeline destroye." 180
The baron he stroakt his dark-brown cheeke, And turnde his heade asyde, To wipe awaye the starting teare, He proudly strave to hyde.