He ranged all round down by the wood side,
Wind well thy horn, good hunter,
Till in a tree-top a gay lady he spied,
For he was a jovial hunter.
‘Oh, what dost thee mean, fair lady,’ said he,
Wind well thy horn, good hunter;
‘The wild boar’s killed my lord, and has thirty men gored,
And thou beest a jovial hunter.’
‘Oh, what shall I do this wild boar for to see?’
Wind well thy horn, good hunter;
‘Oh, thee blow a blast and he’ll come unto thee,
As thou beest a jovial hunter.’
Then he blowed a blast, full north, east, west, and south,
Wind well thy horn, good hunter;
And the wild boar then heard him full in his den,
As he was a jovial hunter.
Then he made the best of his speed unto him,
Wind well thy horn, good hunter;
[Swift flew the boar, with his tusks smeared with [gore], [125a]
To Sir Ryalas, the jovial hunter.
Then the wild boar, being so stout and so strong,
Wind well thy horn, good hunter;
Thrashed down the trees as he ramped him along,
To Sir Ryalas, the jovial hunter.
‘Oh, what dost thee want of me?’ wild boar, said he, [125b]
Wind well thy horn, good hunter;
‘Oh, I think in my heart I can do enough for thee,
For I am the jovial hunter.’
Then they fought four hours in a long summer day,
Wind well thy horn, good hunter;
Till the wild boar fain would have got him away
From Sir Ryalas, the jovial hunter.
Then Sir Ryalas drawed his broad sword with might,
Wind well thy horn, good hunter;
And he fairly cut the boar’s head off quite,
For he was a jovial hunter.
Then out of the wood the wild woman flew,
Wind well thy horn, good hunter;
‘Oh, my pretty spotted pig thou hast slew,
For thou beest a jovial hunter.