7.  “And there I send her a ring of gold,
A ring of precious stone,
And bid her come to the silver wood,
Let[104] for no kind of man.”

8.  One while this little boy he yode[105],
Another while he ran,
Until he came to John Steward’s hall,
I-wis[106] he never blan[107].

9.  And of nurture the child had good,
He ran up hall and bower free,
And when he came to this ladye faire,
Sayes, “God you save and see[108]!”

10.  “I am come from Child Maurice,
A message unto thee;
And Child Maurice, he greetes you well,
And ever soe well from me.”

11.  “And as it falls, as oftentimes
As knots beene knit on a kell,
Or marchant men gone to leeve London
Either for to buy ware or sell.”

12.  “And as oftentimes he greetes you well
As any hart can thinke,
Or schoolemasters are in any schoole,
Wryting with pen and inke.”

13.  “And heere he sends a mantle of greene[109],
As greene as any grasse,
And he bids you come to the silver wood,
To hunt with Child Maurice.”

14.  “And heere he sends you a ring of gold,
A ring of the precious stone;
He prayes you to come to the silver wood,
Let for no kind of man.”

15.  “Now peace, now peace, thou little foot-page,
For Christes sake, I pray thee! 
For if my lord heare one of these words,
Thou must be hanged hye!”

16.  John Steward stood under the castle wall,
And he wrote the words everye one,
....
....

17.  And he called upon his hors-keeper,
“Make ready you my steede!”
I, and soe he did to his chamberlaine,
“Make ready thou my weede[110]!”

18.  And he cast a lease[111] upon his backe,
And he rode to the silver wood,
And there he sought all about,
About the silver wood.

19.  And there he found him Child Maurice
Sitting upon a blocke,
With a silver combe in his hand,
Kembing his yellow lockes.
....

20.  But then stood up him Child Maurice,
And sayd these words trulye: 
“I doe not know your ladye,” he said,
“If that I doe her see.”

21.  He sayes, “How now, how now, Child Maurice? 
Alacke, how may this be? 
For thou hast sent her love-tokens,
More now then two or three;”

22.  “For thou hast sent her a mantle of greene,
As greene as any grasse,
And bade her come to the silver woode
To hunt with Child Maurice.”

23.  “And thou hast sent her a ring of gold,
A ring of precyous stone,
And bade her come to the silver wood,
Let for no kind of man.”

24.  “And by my faith, now, Child Maurice,
The tone[112] of us shall dye!”
“Now be my troth,” sayd Child Maurice,
“And that shall not be I.”

25.  But he pulled forth a bright browne[113] sword,
And dryed it on the grasse,
And soe fast he smote at John Steward,
I-wisse he never did rest.