He grasped his sworde with mayne and mighte,
And spying a secrette part,160
He drave it into the Soldans syde,
And pierced him to the heart.
Then all the people gave a shoute,
Whan they sawe the Soldan falle:
The ladye wept, and thanked Christ165
That had reskewed her from thrall.
And nowe the kinge, with all his barons,
Rose uppe from offe his seate,
And downe he stepped into the listes
That curteous knighte to greete.170
But he, for payne and lacke of bloude,
Was fallen into a swounde,
And there, all walteringe in his gore,
Lay lifelesse on the grounde.
"Come downe, come downe, my daughter deare,175
Thou art a leeche of skille;
Farre lever had I lose halfe my landes
Than this good knighte sholde spille."
Downe then steppeth that fayre ladye,
To helpe him if she maye:180
But when she did his beavere raise,
"It is my life, my lord!" she sayes,
And shriekte and swound awaye.
Sir Cauline juste lifte up his eyes,
When he heard his ladye crye:185
"O ladye, I am thine owne true love;
For thee I wisht to dye."
Then giving her one partinge looke,
He closed his eyes in death,
Ere Christabelle, that ladye milde,190
Begane to drawe her breathe.
But when she found her comelye knighte
Indeed was dead and gone,
She layde her pale, cold cheeke to his,
And thus she made her moane:195