Sir Thopas eke so weary was For pricking on the softë grass, So fierce was his coráge, 3879 That down he laid him in that place, To makë his steed some solace, And gave him good foráge. “Ah, Saint Marý, ben’dicite , What aileth thilkë 3880 love at me To bindë me so sore? Me dreamed all this night, pardie, An elf-queen shall my leman 3881 be, And sleep under my gore. 3882 An elf-queen will I love, y-wis, 3883 For in this world no woman is Worthy to be my make