He fayes, Where is fyr Cauline,

That is wont to ferve the wyne ?

Then aunfwerde him a courteous knighte,
And faft his handes gan wringe :
Sir Cauline is ficke, and like to dye.
Without a good leechinge.

25

Fetche me downe my daughter deere,

She is a leeche fulle fine:

30

Goe take him doughe, and the baken bread,

And serve him with the wyne foe red;

Lothe I were him to tine.

Fair Chriftabelle to his chaumber goes,
Her maydens followyng nye :

35

O well, fhe fayth, how doth my lord?

O ficke, thou fayr ladyè.

Nowe ryfe up wightlye, man, for shame,

Never lye foe cowardlee ;

For it is told in my fathers halle,

You dye for love of mee.

40

Fayre ladye, it is for your love

That all this dill I drye:

For if you wold comfort me with a kiffe,

Then were I brought from bale to bliffe,

45

No lenger wold I lye.

Sir knighte, my father is a kinge,

I am his onlye heire;

Alas! and well you knowe, fyr knighte,

I never can be youre fere.

O ladye, thou art a kinges daughter,

And I am not thy peere,

But let me doe fome deedes of armes

50

To be your

bacheleere.

Some deedes of armes if thou wilt doe,

55

My bacheleere to bee,

(But ever and aye my heart wold rue,

Giff harm shold happe to thee,)

Upon Eldridge hill there groweth a thorne,

Upon the mores brodinge;

60

And dare ye, fyr knighte, wake there all nighte

Untill the fayre morninge?

For the Eldridge knighte, fo mickle of mighte,

65

Will examine you beforne :

And never man bare life awaye,

But he did him fcath and fcorne.

That knighte he is a foul paynìm,

And large of limb and bone;

And but if heaven may be thy speede,

Thy life it is but gone..

7༠

Nowe

Nowe on the Eldridge hilles Ile walke,

For thy fake, fair ladìe;

And Ile either bring you a ready tokèn,
Or Ile never more you fee.

The lady is gone to her own chaumbère,
Her maydens following bright:

75

Quoth hee, If cryance come till my heart,
I am ffar from any good towne. *

85

And foone he spyde on the mores so broad,

A furyous wight and fell;

A ladye bright his brydle led,

Clad in a fayre kyrtèll :

And foe fast he called on fyr Caulìne,

O man, I rede thee flye,

For but' if cryance come till thy heart,

I weene but thou mun dye.

* This line is reftored from the folie MS.

90

He

He fayth, 'No' cryance comes till my heart,
Nor, in faith, I wyll not flee;

For, cause thou minged not Chrift before,
The lefs me dreadeth thee.

The Eldridge knighte, he pricked his feed;

Syr Cauline bold abode :

Then either fhooke his truftye fpeare,

And the timber these two children* bare
Soe foone in funder flode.

Then tooke they out theyr two good fwordes,

95

100

And layden on full fafte,

Till helme and hawberke, mail and fheelde,
They all were well-nye brast.

105

The Eldridge knight was mickle of might,

And ftiffe in ftower did ftande,

But fyr Cauline with a

'backward' ftroke,

He fmote off his right-hand;

That foone he with paine and lacke of bloud

Fell downe on that lay-land.

Then up fyr Cauline lift his brande

All over his head fo hye:

110

And here I fweare by the holy roode,

115

Nowe, caytiffe, thou fhalt dye.

Then

P. 54.

i. e. Knights. See the ballad of CHILD WATERS, vol. 3.

Ver. 109. aukéward. MS.

Then up and came that ladye brighte,

Faste wringing of her hande:

For the maydens love, that most you love,
Withold that deadlye brande.

For the maydens love, that most you love,
Now fmyte no more I praye;

And aye whatever thou wilt, my lord,

He shall thy hefts obaye.

120

Now fweare to mee, thou Eldridge knighte, 125

And here on this lay-land,

That thou wilt believe on Chrift his laye,
And therto plight thy hand: