"Make it sweet and delicate to eat;
Serve it to my lady bright.
Should she suspect this meat
Her heart would not be light."

And soon the lord sat down to dine,
His lady at his side;
The heart was served in red, red wine,
But there was grief inside.

"Madame, eat of this," he said,
"It is both dainty and pleasant,"
The lady ate and was not dismayed,
For of spice there was no want.

When she had feasted well
Her lord said to her there,
"Let the heart that you have eaten knell
For him who toyed with your yellow hair.

"As you can see, your knight is dead;
I tell you, lady, do not cry.
It was his heart on which you fed;
Madame, at last we all must die."

Up the rose with heart full woe
And straight into her chamber went;
And there confessed devoutly so
That shortly she received the sacrament.

And mourning lay in her last bed;
God knows right woeful was her moan.
"Alas, my own dear love," she said,
"Since you are dead my joy is gone.

"With me thy eaten heart shall die;
I have received the sacrament;
All earthly food I shall deny.
With woe and pain my life is spent."