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KING ESTMEKE. |
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My brother wold marrye her to his wiffe, Of Englande to be queene."
" Yesterdaye was att my dere daughter *s
The king his sonne of Spayn ; And then she nicked him of naye ;
I feare sheele do youe the same."
" The kyng of Spayne is a foule paynim, And 'leeveth on Mahound, so
And pitye it were that fayre ladye Shold marrye a heathen hound."
" But grant to me," sayes kyng Estmere,
" For my love I you praye, That I may see your daughter dere m
Before I goe hence awaye."
" Althoughe itt is seven yeare and more
Syth my daughter was in halle, She shall come downe once for your sake,
To glad my guestes alle." «
Downe then came that mayden fayre,
With ladyes lacede in pall, And halfe a hondred of bolde knightes,
To bring her from bowre to hall, And eke as manye gentle squieres, m
To waite upon them all. |
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