"Althoughe itt is seven yeare and more
Syth my daughter was in halle,
She shall come downe once for your sake,
To glad my guestès alle."60
Downe then came that mayden fayre,
With ladyes lacede in pall,
And halfe a hondred of bolde knightes,
To bring her from bowre to hall,
And eke as manye gentle squieres,65
To waite upon them all.
The talents of golde were on her head sette,
Hunge lowe downe to her knee;
And everye rynge on her small finger
Shone of the chrystall free.70
Sayes, "Christ you save, my deare madame,"
Sayes, "Christ you save and see:"
Sayes, "You be welcome, kyng Estmere,
Right welcome unto mee.
"And iff you love me, as you saye,75
So well and hartilee,
All that ever you are comen about
Soone sped now itt may bee."
Then bespake her father deare,
"My daughter, I saye naye;80
Remember well the kyng of Spayne,
What he sayd yesterdaye.
"He wold pull downe my halles and castles,
And reave me of my lyfe:
And ever I feare that paynim kyng,85
Iff I reave him of his wyfe."
"Your castles and your towres, father,
Are stronglye built aboute;
And therefore of that foule paynim