Draft in Fitz. MS. 2
Lo Sirs a desolate damozel
In all highways I made my moan
With words on parchment written well
To help me to get back mine own
And at the crossways that lead down
To either sea and the waste land
The forest and the golden town
I set a pursuivant to stand
Beside a cross of white and red
And each day many knights passed by
Some bravely were apparelled
And had most things that gold can buy
And some came poorly from the wars
With broken arms and visages
Scarred by the Saracen scimitars—
And unto each and all of these
My pursuivant cried loud and well
The words upon the parchment writ
By me the desolate Damozel—
Fair knights—I do you all to wit
My lady a most noble dame
A recent traitor hath appealed
And surely Sirs it were great blame
Such a fair noble dame to yield
Unto the fire Sirs I say
Before God she sweareth well
She hath the right by my fay
It were a hard thing to tell
How fair she is and Sirs therefore
My dame this goodly appellant
Being grieved by a strong traitor
Of some good knight hath great want
In the name of God some knight would say
How call you then the defendant
Sir John le blanc then by my fay
She is hardly an appellant—
How say you fellows which of you
Would arm for a fight such as this
For many a day he should rue
Who met Sir John le blanc I wiss
Some spake thus and some spake
With great ruth and courteously
But there was no Knight for my sake
Would meet such a man as he
Thus some spake and so some spake-
At last there came a goodly knight
A lion in a green brake
Would not be a fairer sight
When my herald had said his say
Quod He, they say among men of wit
Take that you long for while you may
Or you may chance to lose it
I may well say Sir pursuivant
That every day of this my life
This is the thing I most want
A most fair dame to be my wife
Therefore if she will wed with me
I will right joyfully do her will
And if will not then perdie
For Gods sake I will fight still
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