“Of silver he shall have his fill,
And of good red gold whate’er he will.”
He smiled, the king, his words to heed—
“Here stand I, that did the deed!
“By God in heaven, I tell thee true!
None but I thy father slew.”
Sir Peter smote himself on the breast—
“Heart, be still, nor break thy rest!
“Heart, be still, bide patiently!
Sure and swift shall my vengeance be!”
Alone Sir Peter stayed
To speak with his good blade.
“Harken, sword so good!
Wilt steep thyself in blood?
“Good brown brand, wilt fight for me?
No brother have I in the world but thee.”
“Say, how can I fight for thee?
My good hilt lies in pieces three.”
Straight to the smith he wended
To have the fault amended.