Then this couple they did part
With a sad heavy moan;
The wind was fair, the ship was rare,
They landed in Bahome.40
But in that place they had not been
A month but barely one,
Till [he look'd] on his gay gold ring,
And riven was the stone.
Time after this was not expir'd45
A month but scarcely three,
Till black and ugly was the ring,
[And the stone] was burst in three.
"Fight on, fight on, you merry men all,
With you I'll fight no more;50
I will gang to some holy place,
Pray to the King of Glore."
Then to the chapel he is gone,
And knelt most piteouslie,
For seven days and seven nights,55
Till blood ran frae his knee.
"Ye'll take my jewels that's in Bahome,
And deal them liberallie,
To young that cannot, and old that mannot,
The blind that does not see.60
"Give maist to women in child-bed laid,
Can neither fecht nor flee:
I hope she's in the heavens high,
That died for love of me."
The knights they wrang their white fingers,65
The ladies tore their hair;
The women that ne'er had children born,
In swoon they down fell there.