Sir Kay call'd forth his lady, 65
And bade her to come near:
"Yet dame, if thou be guilty,
I pray thee now forbear."
This lady, pertly gigling,
With forward step came on, 70
And boldly to the little boy
With fearless face is gone.
When she had tane the mantle,
With purpose for to wear:
It shrunk up to her shoulder, 75
And left her b**side bare.
Then every merry knight,
That was in Arthur's court,
Gib'd, and laught, and flouted,
To see that pleasant sport. 80
Down she threw the mantle,
No longer bold or gay,
But with a face all pale and wan,
To her chamber slunk away.
Then forth came an old knight, 85
A pattering o'er his creed;
And proffer'd to the little boy
Five nobles to his meed;
"And all the time of Christmass
Plumb-porridge shall be thine, 90
If thou wilt let my lady fair
Within the mantle shine."
A saint his lady seemed,
With step demure, and slow,
And gravely to the mantle 95
With mincing pace doth goe,
When she the same had taken,
That was so fine and thin,
It shrivell'd all about her,
And show'd her dainty skin. 100
Ah! little did HER mincing,
Or HIS long prayers bestead;
She had no more hung on her,
Than a tassel and a thread.