She: Sleep? No thought have I of sleep! Ride on, therefore. Why tarry we here?
He: Lady, for three sufficing reasons--our foes pursue not, I'm a-weary, and 'tis very dark--
She: No matter! Ride on, I do command thee.
She: I care not so thou leave this place; 'tis an evil place!
He: Why,'tis good place, very well secluded and with stream hard by that bubbleth. So here will we bide till dawn. Suffer me to aid thee down.
She: Touch me not! Never think I fear thee though I am alone.
He: Alone? Nay, thou 'rt with me, that is--I am with thee and thou art with a Fool. So is Fool care-full Fool since Fool hath care of thee. Suffer me now to aid thee down since here will we wait the day. Come, my arm about thee so, thy hand in mine--
She (_angrily_): O Fool most base--most vile--
He: Nay, hush thee, hush! and listen to yon blithesome, bubblesome, babbling brook how it sigheth 'mid the willows, whispereth under reedy bank and laugheth, rogue-like, in the shallows! Listen how it wooeth thee:
Though, lady, hard thy couch must be, If thou should'st wakeful lie, Here, from the dark, I'll sing to thee A drowsy lullaby. O lady fair--forget thy pride Whiles thou within the greenwood bide.
She: Why wilt thou stay me in this evil place?
He (_patiently_): The wild is ill travelling in the dark, lady; there be quagmires and perilous ways--wherefore here must we bide till dawn. Suffer me to--
SHE (_breathlessly and shrinking from his touch_): But I fear not quagmires--there be greater perils--more shameful and--and--'tis so dark, so dark! 'Tis hateful place. Ride we till it be day--
He (_mockingly_): Perils, lady? Why certes there be perils--and perils. Perils that creep and crawl, perils that go on four legs and perils two-legged--e'en as I. But I, though two-legged, am but very fool of fools and nothing perilous in blazing day or blackest night. So stint thy fears, lady, for here bide we till dawn!
Herewith he caught her in sudden arms and lifted her to the ground; then, dismounting, he set about watering and cherishing the wearied steed and tethered him beside a dun stream that rippled beneath shadowy willows; and so doing, fell a-singing on this wise:
"'Fair lady, thou 'rt lost!' quoth he, Sing derry, derry down. 'And O, 'tis dark--'tis dark!' quoth she, 'And in the dark dire perils be,' O, derry, derry down!