Then backe he came to tell the kinge,
Who sayde, Sir Lukyn sawe ye oughte?
Nothinge, my liege, save that the winde 155
Nowe with the angrye waters fought.
O Lukyn, Lukyn, said the kinge,
[Twice haste thou dealt deceytfullye:
Alacke, whom may wee ever truste,
When suche a knighte soe false can bee? 160
Saye, wouldst thou have thy master dead;
All for a sword, that wins thine eye:
Nowe goe againe, and throwe it in,
Or here the one of us shall dye.]
The duke, all shent with this rebuke, 165
No aunswere made unto the kinge:
But to the rivere tooke the sworde,
And threwe it far as he coulde flinge.
A hande and an arme did meete the sworde,
And flourishd three times in the air; 170
[Then sunke benethe the renninge streme,
And of the duke was seene noe mair.
All sore astonied stood the duke;
He stood as still, as still mote bee:]
Then hastend backe to telle the kinge; 175
But he was gone from under the tree.
But to what place he cold not tell,
For never after hee did him spye:[64]
But hee sawe a barge goe from the land,
And hee heard ladyes howle and crye[65]. 180
And whether the kinge were there, or not,
Hee never knewe, nor ever colde:
[For from that sad and direfulle daye,
Hee never more was scene on molde.]
⁂
