womanhead: And not to slay my children (God forbid), But for to keep them privily and still, Till I thy purpose knew, and all thy will.”
When she this heard, in swoon adown she falleth For piteous joy; and after her swooning, She both her youngë children to her calleth, And in her armës piteously weeping Embraced them, and tenderly kissing, Full like a mother, with her saltë tears She bathed both their visage and their hairs.
O, what a piteous thing it was to see Her swooning, and her humble voice to hear! “ Grand mercy , Lord, God thank it you,” quoth she, That ye have saved me my children dear; Now reck I never to be dead right here; Since I stand in your love, and in your grace, No force of death, nor when my spirit pace.
“O tender, O dear, O young children mine, Your woeful mother weened steadfastly That cruel houndës, or some foul vermíne, Had eaten you; but God of his mercy, And your benignë father tenderly Have done you keep:” and in that samë stound, All suddenly she swapt down to the ground.
And in her swoon so sadly holdeth she Her children two, when she gan them embrace, That with great sleight and great difficulty The children from her arm they can arace, O! many a tear on many a piteous face Down ran of them that stoodë her beside, Unneth aboutë her might they abide.
Walter her gladdeth, and her sorrow slaketh: She riseth up abashed from her trance, And every wight her joy and feastë maketh, Till she hath caught again her countenance. Walter her doth so faithfully pleasánce, That it was dainty for to see the cheer Betwixt them two, since they be met in fere.
The ladies, when that they their timë sey, Have taken her, and into chamber gone, And stripped her out of her rude array, And in a cloth of