LXII
‘And what wold ye doe with my bryde soe gay,
Iff I did sell her thee?
More seemelye it is for her fayre bodye
To lye by mee then thee.’
LXIII
Hee played agayne both loud and shrille,
And Adler he did syng,
‘O ladye, this is thy owne true love,
Noe harper, but a kyng.
LXIV
‘O Ladye, this is thy owne true love,
As playnlye thou mayest see,
And Ile rid thee of that foule paynim
Who partes thy love and thee.’
LXV
The ladye looked, the ladye blushte,
And blushte and lookt agayne,
While Adler he hath drawne his brande,
And hath the Sowdan slayne.
LXVI
Up then rose the kemperye men,
And loud they gan to crye:
‘Ah! traytors, yee have slayne our kyng,
And therefore yee shall dye.’