There left to wayle and weepe.20
The queene she was Syr Caulines friend,
And to the kinge sayd shee:
"I praye you save Syr Caulines life,
And let him banisht bee."
"Now, dame, that traitor shall be sent25
Across the salt sea fome:
But here I will make thee a band,
If ever he come within this land,
A foule deathe is his doome."
All woe-begone was that gentil knight30
To parte from his ladye;
And many a time he sighed sore,
And cast a wistfulle eye:
"Faire Christabelle, from thee to parte,
Farre lever had I dye."35
Fair Christabelle, that ladye bright,
Was had forthe of the towre;
But ever shee droopeth in her minde,
As, nipt by an ungentle winde,
Doth some faire lillye flowre.40
And ever shee doth lament and weepe,
To tint her lover soe:
"Syr Cauline, thou little think'st on mee,
But I will still be true."
Manye a kinge, and manye a duke,45
And lorde of high degree,
Did sue to that fayre ladye of love;
But never shee wolde them nee.
When manye a daye was past and gone,
Ne comforte she colde finde,50
The kynge proclaimed a tourneament,
To cheere his daughters mind.
And there came lords, and there came knights,
Fro manye a farre countrye,
To break a spere for theyr ladyes love,55
Before that faire ladye.