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  The baron he woke—the baron he rose

And called his merry men all,

And come thou forth Sir John the knight,

Thy lady is carried to thrall.

Fair Emmeline scant had ridden a mile—

A mile forth of the town,

When she was aware of her father’s men

Come galloping o’er the down.

And foremost came the carlish knight,

Sir John of the north country;

Now stop, now stop thou false traitor,

Nor carry that lady away;

For she is come of high lynage

And was of a lady born;

For it ill beseems thee a false churle’s son

To carry her hence to scorn.

Now loud thou liest, Sir John the knight.

Now thou doest lie of me ;

A knight me got—and a lady me bore.

So never did none by thee.

But light thee down my lady fair,

Light down and hold my steed,

While I and this discourteous knight

Do try this arduous deed.

Fair Emmeline sighed—fair Emmeline wept,

And aye her heart was woe;

While ’twixt her love and the carlish knight

Past many a baleful blow.