Then bespake him Sir Marramiles,
And these were the words said hee:
‘Ryding of this steed, brother Bredbeddle,
The mastery belongs to me.’
LXII
Marramiles tooke the steed to his hand,
To ryd him he was full bold;
He co’ld noe more make him goe
Then a child of three yeere old.
LXIII
He laid uppon him with heele and hand,
With yard that was soe fell;
‘Helpe! brother Bredbeddle,’ says Marramile,
‘For I thinke he be the devill of hell.
LXIV
‘Helpe! brother Bredbeddle,’ says Marramile,
‘Helpe! for Christ’s pittye;
Ffor without thy help, brother Bredbeddle,
He will never be rydden for me.’
LXV
Then bespake him Sir Bredbeddle,
These were the words said he:
‘I conjure thee tell, thou Burlow-beanie,
How this steed was riddin in his country.’