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188 |
SIR CATILINE. |
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Then forthe the stranger knight he came, i&
In his blacke armoure dight: The ladye sighed a gentle sighe,
" That this were my true knighte!"
And nowe the gyaunt and knight be mett Within the lists soe broad; mo
And now, with swordes soe sharpe of Steele, They gan to lay on load.
The Soldan strucke the knighte a stroke
That made him reele asyde: Then woe-begone was that fayre ladye, i*s
And thrice she deeply sighde.
The Soldan strucke a second stroke,
And made the bloude to flowe : All pale and wan was that ladye fayre,
And thrice she wept for woe. lm
The Soldan strucke a third fell stroke, Which brought the knighte on his knee :
Sad sorrow pierced that ladyes heart, And she shriekt loud shriekings three.
The knighte he leapt upon his feete, i&s
All recklesse of the pain : Quoth hee, " But heaven be now my speede,
Or else I shall be slaine." |
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