“Ah, listen, dear Fleurette, to me.
The king, to-morrow, comes this way,
And brave gay doings will there be;
By Our Lady, ’twere a sight to see
The rich and rare array.
Listen again: do not forget,
Lest you should fail the king to see;
You’ll know him by his plumed aigrette.”
“Yes, I will look,” replied Fleurette,
“And I shall see but thee.”
“The squires, the saucy pages free,
The knights, and next the barons bold,
And lords of high and low degree,
Will march along and pass by thee,
All glittering with gold.
And many, as they onward go,
Finding thee fair as fair may be,
Shall, softly whispering, tell thee so.”
“Ah, they may whisper soft and low,
I shall hear none but thee.”
“Surrounded by his courtiers gay,
The king comes last of all the train.
‘Fleurette, I love thee,’ should he say,
‘My crown at thy dear feet I lay,
My crown thy love to gain.’
Ah! by a king to be adored
Would, by my faith, enchanting be?”
“Nay, were I by the king adored,
I’d say, ‘I honour you, my lord:’
And I would love but thee.”