Some Stanzas of the Poem in Which Bertran Justifies Himself to Lady Maent

Lose I my hawk in its first upward flight,
And falcon lannerets kill it in fierce fight,
And bear it hence, and pluck it 'fore my eyes
If I not better love in grievous plight
To pine for thee, than on aught other wight
To work my will, and win an easy prize.

Be I joint-owner of a castle gay,
Wherein three other lords my will gainsay,
And be we each with jealous hate on fire,
And ever need cross-bowmen in array,
Leeches and men-at-arms our call t'obey,
If e'er to others' love I did aspire.

Shield on my breast may I through tempest hie,
Bearing upon my head my helm awry,
Holding short reins, that lengthened cannot be,
Feet in long stirrups, and small horse trotting high.
Then to an inn with surly host draw nigh,
If lied not those that bore thee tales of me.

False jealous recreants, since that ye lie,
And to set strife betwixt us ever try,
I counsel you that now you let me be!