"Some deedes of armes if thou wilt doe,
My bacheleere to bee,
(But ever and aye my heart shall rue,
Giff harm shold happe to thee,)
"Upon Eldridge hill there groweth a thorne,
Upon the mores brodinge;
And dare ye, Syr knighte, wake there all nighte
Untill the fayre morninge?
"For the Eldridge knighte, so mickle of mighte,
Will examine you beforne:
And never man bare life awaye,
But he did him scath and scorne.
"That knighte he is a foule paynim,
And large of limb and bone;
And but if heaven may be thy speede,
Thy life it is but gone."
"Nowe on the Eldridge hilles Ile walke,[2]
For thy sake, fair ladìe;
And Ile either bring you a ready token,
Or Ile never more you see."
The lady is gone to her chaumbere,
Her maydens following bright:
Syr Cauline lope from care-bed soone,
And to the Eldridge hills is gone,
For to wake there all night.
Unto midnight, that the moone did rise,
He walked up and downe;
Then a lightsome bugle heard he blowe
Over the bents soe browne;
"Quoth hee, If cryance come till my heart,
I am ffar from any good towne."
And soone he spyde on the mores so broad,
A furyous wight and fell;
A ladye bright his brydle led,
Clad in a fayre kyrtèll:
And soe fast he called on Syr Cauline,
"O man, I rede thee flye;
For but if cryance comes till my heart,
I weene but thou mun dye."
He sayth, "No cryance comes till my heart,
Nor, in faith, I wyll not flee;
For, cause thou minged not Christ before,
The less me dreadeth thee."
The Eldridge knighte, he pricked his steed;
Syr Cauline bold abode:
Then either shooke his trustye speare