When our parish mass that it was done,
And our King was boune to dine,
He says "Where is Sir Cawline

That was wont to serve me wine?"

But then answer'd a courteous knight,
Fast of his hands wringing,—

"Sir Cawline's sick, and like to be dead
Withouten good leeching."

"Fetch ye down my daughter dear ! She is a leech full fine;

Ay! and take you dough and the baken bread, For full loath I would him tine."

This lady is gone to his chamber,
Her maidens following nye;

"O well," she saith, "how doth my lord?”
"O, sick!" again saith he.

"But rise up wightly, man! for shame,
Never lie so cowardly!

It is told in my father's hall
For my love you will die."

"It is for your love, fair Lady!
That all this dole I drie :

But if you would comfort me with a kiss,
Then I were brought from bale to bliss,—
No longer here would I lie."

"Alas! so well you know, Sir Knight! I can not be your [fere]."

"For some deeds of arms fain would I do To be your batcheler."

"Upon Eldridge Hill there grows a thorn Upon the moors broding;

And would you, Sir Knight! wake there all night To day of the other morning?

"For the Eldridge King, that is mickle of might, Will examine you beforne ;

And there never was man bare his life away
Since the day that I was born."

"But I will for your sake, Lady!

Wake on the bents so brown,

And I'll either bring you a ready token
Or I'll never come to you [down]."

This lady is gone to her chamber,
Her maidens following bright;

And Sir Cawline gone to the moors so broad
For to wake there all night.

Unto midnight the moon did rise

He walked up and down;

And a lightsome bugle then heard he blow
Over the bents so brown :

Says he "An cryance come till my heart,
I am far from any good town.”

And he spied e'en a little him by
A furious King and a fell,
And a lady bright his bridle led
That seemly it was to [tell].

And fast he call'd upon Sir Cawline :
"O man! I rede thee fly;

For if cryance come unto thy heart,
I'm afear'd lest thou must die."

He says "[No] cryance comes to my heart;
Nor i' faith! I fear not thee;

For because thou ming'd not Christ before,
The less me dreadeth thee."

But Sir Cawline he shook a spear,

The King was bold and abode,

And the timber those two Children bore
So soon in sunder slode;

For they took and two good swords,
And they laiden on good load.

The Eldridge King was mickle of might,
Stiffly to the ground did stand;

But Sir Cawline with an awkward stroke
He brought him off his hand,—
Ay, and flying over his head so high,
Fell down of that lay land.

And his lady stood a little thereby,

Fast wringing her hands; [and “ O]

For the maiden's love that you have most meed,
Smite you my lord no moe!

"And he'll never come upon Eldridge [Hill]
Him to sport, game, or play,
And to meet no man of middle earth
And that lives on Christ his lay."

But he then up, and that Eldridge King
Set in his saddle again;

And that Eldridge King and his lady

To their castle are they gane.

And he took then up that Eldridge sword

As hard as any flint,

And so he did [the hand and] those ringès five,

Harder than fire, and brent.

First he presented to the king's daughter

The hand and then the sword.

[Here without any break in the manuscript follow some disconnected lines, and anon the ballad-singer is recording a new adventure.]

And a Giant that was both stiff [and stark]

He leap'd now them among :

And upon his swire five heads he bare,-
Unmakely made [and strong].".

And he drank then of the King's wine,
And he put the cup in his sleeve;
And all they trembled and were wan
For fear he should them grieve.

"I'll tell thee mine errand, King!" he says,— "Mine errand what I do here:

For I will burn thy temples high,
Or I'll have thy daughter dear,
Or else on yonder moor so broad
Thou shalt find me a peer."

The King he turn'd him round about

(Lord! in heart he was woe),

Says "Is there no knight of the Round Table This matter will undergo ?

"Ay! and he shall have my broad lands
And keep them well his life ;

Ay! and so he shall my daughter dear,
To be his wedded wife."

And then stood up Sir Cawline,

His own errand for to say:

"I would to God, Sir!" said Sir Cawline,"That Soldan I will essay.

"Go fetch me down my Eldridge sword! For I won it at fray."

"But away! away" said the hend Soldan,— "Thou tarriest me here all day."

The hend Soldan and Sir Cawline,
They fought a summer's day;

Now has he slain that hend Soldan,
And brought his five heads away.

And the king has betaken him his broad lands
And all his venison

[Again something missing.]

"But take you to your lands [so] broad,
And brook them well your life!

For you promised me your daughter dear
To be my wedded wife."

"Now by my faith," then says our King,—
"For that we will not strive;

For thou shalt have my daughter dear
To be thy wedded wife."-

The other morning Sir Cawline rose
By the dawning of the day,

And unto a garden he did go,
His matins for to say;

And that bespied a false steward,

A shame's death that he might die!

And he let a lion out of a band,

Sir Cawline for to tear;

And he had no weapon him upon,
Nor no weapon did wear.

But he took then his mantle of green,
In the lion's mouth it thrust;

He held the lion so sore to the wall
Till the lion's heart it brast.

And the watchmen cried upon the walls
And said "Sir Cawline's slain ! "
Then the King's daughter she fell down :
"For peerless is my pain."

"O peace, my Lady!" says Sir Cawline,—
"I have bought thy love full dear.