“Oh, God be thanked!” said Alice the nurse, “That all comes round so just and fair: Lord Ronald is heir of all your lands, And you are not the Lady Clare.”     

  

       “Are ye out of your mind, my nurse, my nurse,” Said Lady Clare, “that ye speak so wild?” “As God’s above,” said Alice the nurse, "I speak the truth: you are my child.     

       The old earl’s daughter died at my breast; I speak the truth, as I live by bread! I buried her like my own sweet child, And put my child in her stead.”     

  

       “Falsely, falsely have ye done, O mother," she said, “if this be true, To keep the best man under the sun So many years from his due.”     

       “Nay now, my child,” said Alice the nurse, “But keep the secret for your life, And all you have will be Lord Ronald’s, When you are man and wife.”     

  

       “If I’m a beggar born,” she said “I will speak out, for I dare not lie, Pull off, pull off the brooch of gold, And fling the diamond necklace by.”     

       “Nay now, my child,” said Alice the nurse, “But keep the secret all you can.” She said, “Not so; but I will know If there be any faith in man.”     

       “Nay now, what faith?” said Alice the nurse, “The man will cleave unto his right.” “And he shall have it,”       the lady replied, “Though I should die to-night.”     

    

       “Yet give one kiss to your mother, dear! Alas, my child! I sinned for thee.” “O mother, mother, mother,” she said, “So strange it seems to me!     

       “Yet here’s a kiss for my mother dear, My mother dear, if this be so, And lay your hand upon my head, And bless me, mother, ere I go.”     

  

       She clad herself in a russen gown, She was no longer Lady Clare:       She went by dale, and she went by down, With a single rose in her hair.     

  

       The lily-white doe Lord Ronald had brought Leapt up from where she lay. Dropped her head in the maiden’s hand. And followed her all the way.     

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