LXXIV
“Why leave ye this lace?” the lady replied; “For its simple semblance? Such it well seems; Look! ’tis but little, and less is its worth; But the virtues who knew that are knitted herein He’d appraise it perchance at a price very high; For the man that is girt with this girdle of green, So long as ’tis firmly fasten’d upon him, There’s no athel under Heaven can hew him to ground, He may not be slain, for sleight upon earth.” Then cast he with care, and it came to his heart, ’Twere a jewel for the jeopardy that was him adjudg’d, When he fared to the chapel his fortune to fetch; Might he shun to be slain, ’twere a shift full glorious! And he suffer’d her so, nor her suit hinder’d, And she proffer’d her prize and press’d it again. When he granted, she gave it with a goód wìll And besought him for her sake to discover it never, But leally it hide; and the liege answer’d “Never wight shall it weet, I wis, on this earth but we.” He thank’d her oft again, A grateful man was he: She kiss’d her knight, and then She had giv’n him kisses three.