XVII
‘Tak’ off your claiths now, King Henry,
An’ lie down by my side!’—
‘O God forbid,’ says King Henry,
‘That ever the like betide;
That ever a fiend that wons in hell
Shou’d streak[155] down by my side!’
‘Tak’ off your claiths now, King Henry,
An’ lie down by my side!’—
‘O God forbid,’ says King Henry,
‘That ever the like betide;
That ever a fiend that wons in hell
Shou’d streak[155] down by my side!’