And many a ladye there was sette
In purple and in palle:

But faire Christabelle foe woe-begone
Was the fayreft of them all.

Then manye a knighte was mickle of might

Before his ladye gaye;

But a ftranger wight, whom no man knewe,
He wan the prize eche daye.

His acton it was all of blacke,

His hewberke, and his sheelde,

Ne noe man wift whence he did come,
Ne noe man knewe where he did gone,
When they came out the feelde.

And now three days were preftlye past
In feates of chivalrye,

When lo upon the fourth morninge
A forrowfulle fight they fee.

A hugye giaunt ftiffe and ftarke,
All foule of limbe and lere;

Two goggling eyen like fire farden,
A mouthe from eare to eare.

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Sir, quoth the dwarffe, and louted lowe,
Behold that hend Soldàin!

Behold these heads I beare with me!

They are kings which he hath flain.

The Eldridge knight is his own cousine,
Whom a knight of thine hath fhent:
And hee is come to avenge his wrong,
And to thee, all thy knightes among,
Defiance here hath fent.

But yette he will appeafe his wrath
Thy daughters love to winne:

And but thou yeelde him that fayre mayd,
Thy halls and towers must brenne.

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00

Thy head, fyr king, muft goe with mee;

95

Or elfe thy daughter deere;

Or elfe within thefe lifts foe broad

Thou must finde him a peere.

The king he turned him round aboute,

And in his heart was woe:

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Is there never a knighte of my round tablè,
This matter will undergoe?

Is there never a knighte amongst yee all
Will fight for my daughter and mee?
Whoever will fight yon grimme foldàn,
Right fair his meede fhall bee.

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For

For hee fhall have my broad lay-lands,
And of my crowne be heyre;

And he shall winne fayre Chriftabelle

To be his wedded fere.

But every knighte of his round tablè
Did ftand both still and pale;

For whenever they lookt on the grim foldàn,
It made their hearts to quail.

All woe-begone was that fayre ladyè,
When the fawe no helpe was nye :
She cast her thought on her owne true-love,
And the teares gusht from her eye.

Up then fterte the stranger knighte,
Sayd, Ladye, be not affrayd:

Ile fight for thee with this grimme foldàn,
Thoughe he be unmacklye made.

And if thou wilt lend me the Eldridge fworde,

That lyeth within thy bowre,

I trufte in Chrifte for to flay this fiende

Thoughe he be stiff in ftowre.

Goe fetch him downe the Eldridge fworde,

The kinge he cryde, with speede :

Nowe heaven affift thee, courteous knighte;

My daughter is thy meede.

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130

The

The gyaunt he stepped into the lifts,
And fayd, Awaye, awaye :

I sweare, as I am the hend foldàn,
Thou letteft me here all daye.

Then forthe the ftranger knight he came
In his blacke armoure dight:

"That this were my true knighte!"

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The ladye fighed a gentle fighe,

And nowe the gyaunt and knighte be mett
Within the lifts foe broad;

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All pale and wan was that ladye fayre,
And thrice fhe wept for woe.

150

The foldan ftrucke a third fell ftroke,

Which brought the knighte on his knee:

Sad forrow pierced that ladyes heart,
And the fhriekt loud fhriekings three.

The

The knighte he leapt upon his feete,

All reckleffe of the pain :

Quoth hee, But heaven be now my speede,

Or elfe I fhall be flaine.

He grafped his fworde with mayne and mighte,

And spying a secrette part,

He drave it into the foldan's fyde,
And pierced him to the heart.

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160

Then all the people gave a shoute,
Whan they fawe the foldan falle:
The ladye wept, and thanked Chrift,

That had refkewed her from thrall.

And nowe the kinge with all his barons
Rofe uppe from offe his seate,

And downe he stepped intò the listes,
That curteous knighte to greete.

But he for payne and lacke of bloude

Was fallen intò a swounde,

And there all walteringe in his gore,

Lay lifeleffe on the grounde.

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170

Come downe, come downe, my daughter deare, 175

Thou art a leeche of skille;

Farre lever had I lose halfe my landes,

Than this good knighte fholde fpille.