"Why grieve you, damselle faire," he sayd,
"And what doth cause you moane?"
The damsell scant wolde deigne a looke,
But fast she pricked on.
"Yet turne againe, thou faire damselle
And greete thy queene from mee:
When bale is att hyest, boote is nyest,
Nowe helpe enoughe may bee.
"Bid her remember what she dreamt
In her bedd, wheras shee laye;
How when the grype and grimly beast
Wolde have carried her crowne awaye,
"Even then there came the little gray hawke,
And saved her from his clawes:
Then bidd the queene be merry at hart,
For heaven will fende her cause."
Back then rode that faire damselle,
And her hart it lept for glee:
And when she told her gracious dame
A gladd woman then was shee:
But when the appointed day was come,
No helpe appeared nye:
Then woeful, woeful was her hart,
And the teares stood in her eye.
And nowe a fyer was built of wood;
And a stake was made of tree;
And now Queene Elinor forth was led,
A sorrowful sight to see.
Three times the herault he waved his hand,
And three times spake on hye:
"Giff any good knight will fende this dame,
Come forth, or shee must dye."
No knight stood forth, no knight there came,
No helpe appeared nye:
And now the fyer was lighted up,
Queen Elinor she must dye.
And now the fyer was lighted up,
As hot as hot might bee;
When riding upon a little white steed,
The tinye boy they see.
"Away with that stake, away with those brands,
And loose our comelye queene:
I am come to fight with Sir Aldingar,
And prove him a traitor keene."