The kinge had a ladye to his daughter,
In fashyon she hath no peere;
And princely wightes that ladye wooed
To be theyr wedded feere.1]

Syr Cauline loveth her best of all,
But nothing durst he saye;

Ne descreeve his counsayl to no man,
But deerlye he lovde this may.3

Till on a daye it so beffell,

Great dill to him was dight;5
The maydens love removde his mynd,
To care-bed went the knighte.

One while he spred his armes him fro,
One while he spred them nye:

And aye! but I winne that ladyes love,
For dole now I mun' dye.

And whan our parish-masse was done,
Our kinge was bowne to dyne:

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He sayes, Where is syr Cauline,

That is wont to serve the wyne?

Then aunswerde him a courteous knighte,
And fast his handes gan wringe :

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Sir Cauline is sicke, and like to dye
Without a good leechinge."

Fetche me downe my daughter deere,

She is a leeche fulle fine:

Goe take him doughe,10 and the baken bread,

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10 This is an odd misreading of Percy's. The MS. has "I and take you doe and the baken bread," where doe is the auxiliary verb and the and redundant.]

And serve him with the wyne soe red;
Lothe I were him to tine.1

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

O well, she sayth, how doth my lord?
O sicke, thou fayr ladyè.

Nowe ryse up wightlye, man, for shame,
Never lye soe cowardlee;

For it is told in my fathers halle,

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You dye for love of mee.

For if you wold comfort me with a kisse,

Then were I brought from bale to blisse,
No lenger wold I lye.

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[Sir knighte, my father is a kinge,

I am his onlye heire;

Alas! and well you knowe, syr knighte,

I never can be youre fere.

50

O ladye, thou art a kinges daughtèr,
And I am not thy peere,

But let me doe some deedes of armes
To be your bacheleere.*

Some deedes of armes if thou wilt doe,

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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, syr knighte, wake there all nighte Until the fayre morninge?

For the Eldridge knighte, so mickle' of mighte, Will examine you beforne:2

And never man bare life awaye,

But he did him scath3 and scorne.

[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.

Nowe on the Eldridge hilles Ile walke,*
For thy sake, fair ladìe;]

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

The lady is gone to her own chaumbère,
Her maydens following bright:
[Syr Cauline lope from care-bed soone,
And to the Eldridge hills is gone,]

For to wake there all night.

Unto midnight, that the moone did rise,
He walked up and downe;

Then a lightsome bugle heard he blowe
Over the bents soe browne;

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

And soone he spyde on the mores so broad,
A furyous wight and fell;8

A ladye bright his brydle led,

Clad in a fayre kyrtèll:

* Perhaps wake, as above in ver. 61.

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And soe fast he called on syr Cauline,

O man, I rede' thee flye,

For but' if cryance comes till thy heart,
I weene but thou mun dye.

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

For, cause thou minged2 not Christ before,
The less me dreadeth thee.

[The Eldridge knighte, he pricked his steed; Syr Cauline bold abode:

Then either shooke his trustye speare,]

And the timber these two children* bare
Soe soone in sunder slode.3

Then tooke they out theyr two good swordes,
And layden on full faste,

4

[Till helme and hawberke, mail and sheelde, They all were well-nye brast."]

The Eldridge knight was mickle of might,
And stiffe in stower did stande,

But syr Cauline with a 'backward' stroke,

He smote off his right hand;

That soone he with paine and lacke of bloud
Fell downe on that lay-land.'

[Then up syr Cauline lift his brande

All over his head so hye:

And here I sweare by the holy roode,
Nowe, caytiffe, thou shalt dye.

Ver. 109, aukeward. MS.

* i.e. Knights. See the Preface to Child Waters, vol. iii.

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Then up and came that ladye brighte,
Fast 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 smyte no more I praye;

And aye whatever thou wilt, my lord,
He shall thy hests1 obaye.

120

Now sweare to mee, thou Eldridge knighte,
And here on this lay-land,

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

And that thou never on Eldridge come

To sporte, gamon,3 or playe:

And that thou here give up thy armes
Until thy dying daye.

The Eldridge knighte gave up his armes
With many a sorrowfulle sighe;

130

And sware to obey syr Caulines hest,
Till the tyme that he shold dye.]

135

And he then up and the Eldridge knighte
Sett him in his saddle anone,

And the Eldridge knighte and his ladye
To theyr castle are they gone.

140

[Then he tooke up the bloudy hand,
That was so large of bone,

And on it he founde five ringes of gold
Of knightes that had be slone.*

Then he tooke up the Eldridge sworde,
As hard as any flint:

[1 commands.

2 law.

3 fight.

4 slain.]

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