They disputed which should break the wall,
They disputed which therethrough should crawl.
But Allegast he should break down the wall,
And Allegast he should creep through withall.
“But how shall we bear the Count’s saddle away?
So many bells that saddle array.”
The Count to his page that evening said:
“My saddle wipe, ere thou get thee to bed.
“For to-morrow I’m bent to ride to the Ting,
I’ll have Carl hanged, the son of the King.”
Then the Countess in bitter grief answer made:
“You’ll ne’er live so long as to see him dead.
“My father’s servant last year thou wast,
Now to sleep with his daughter the honour thou hast.”
The Count at that word so ireful grew,
He smote his wife that the blood out-flew.
At hand was Sir Carl, heard all they spake:
“I soon of this matter an end will make.”
Then Carl he entered through the door,
And a naked sword in his hand he bore.