"For the maydens love that most you love, Now smyte no more I praye; And aye whatever thou wilt, my lord, He shall thy hests obaye." "Now sweare to mee, thou Eldridge knighte, 125 And here on this lay-land, That thou wilt believe on Christ his laye, And therto plight thy hand: "And that thou never on Eldridge [hill] come To sporte, gamon, or playe; 130 And that thou here give up thy armes Until thy dying daye." The Eldridge knighte gave up his armes, With many a sorrowfulle sighe; And sware to obey Syr Caulines hest, 135 Till the tyme that he shold dye. And he then up, and the Eldridge knighte Sett him in his saddle anone; And the Eldridge knighte and his ladye, To theyr castle are they gone. 140 Then he tooke up the bloudy hand, That was so large of bone, And on it he founde five ringes of gold, Of knightes that had be slone. Then he tooke up the Eldridge sworde, 145 As hard as any flint; And he tooke off those ringes five, As bright as fyre and brent. Home then pricked Syr Cauline, As light as leafe on tree; 150 I-wys he neither stint ne blanne, Till he his ladye see. Then downe he knelt upon his knee, Before that lady gay: "O ladye, I have bin on the Eldridge hills; 155 These tokens I bring away." "Now welcome, welcome, Syr Cauline, Thrice welcome unto mee, For now I perceive thou art a true knighte, Of valour bolde and free." 160 "O ladye, I am thy own true knighte, Thy hests for to obaye; And mought I hope to winne thy love!"-- No more his tonge colde say. The ladye blushed scarlette redde, 165 And fette a gentill sighe: "Alas! syr knight, how may this bee, For my degree's soe highe? "But sith thou hast hight, thou comely youth, To be my batchilere, 170 Ile promise, if thee I may not wedde, I will have none other fere." Then shee held forthe her liley-white hand Towards that knighte so free; He gave to it one gentill kisse, 175 His heart was brought from bale to blisse, The teares sterte from his ee. "But keep my counsayl, Syr Cauline, Ne let no man it knowe; For, and ever my father sholde it ken, 180 I wot he wolde us sloe." From that daye forthe, that ladye fayre Lovde Syr Cauline the knighte; From that daye forthe, he only joyde Whan shee was in his sight. 185 Yea, and oftentimes they mette Within a fayre arboure, Where they, in love and sweet daliaunce, Past manye a pleasaunt houre.