XVIII
‘O then it was your little foot-page
Falsely hath beguiled me’:
And then she pull’d forth a little pen-knife
That hangèd by her knee,
Says, ‘There shall never no churlè’s blood
Spring within my bodye.’
‘O then it was your little foot-page
Falsely hath beguiled me’:
And then she pull’d forth a little pen-knife
That hangèd by her knee,
Says, ‘There shall never no churlè’s blood
Spring within my bodye.’