And into the arboure as he went
To rest his wearye feet,10
He found his daughter and syr Caulìne
There sette in daliaunce sweet.
The kinge hee sterted forthe, i-wys,[383]
And an angrye man was hee:
Nowe, traytoure, thou shalt hange or drawe,15
And rewe shall thy ladìe.
Then forthe syr Cauline he was ledde,
And throwne in dungeon deepe:
And the ladye into a towre so hye,
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,[384]
If ever he come within this land,
A foule deathe is his doome.
All woe-begone was that gentil knight30
To parte from his ladyè;
And many a time he sighed sore,
And cast a wistfulle eye:
Faire Christabelle, from thee to parte,
Farre lever[385] had I dye.35
Faire 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[386] her lover soe:
Syr Cauline, thou little think'st on mee,
But I will still be true.
Manye a kynge, and manye a duke,45
And lorde of high degree,
Did sue to that fayre ladye of love;
But never shee wolde them nee.[387]
When manye a daye was past and gone,
Ne comforte she colde finde,50
The kynge proclaimed a tourneament,
To cheere his daughters mind: