Kyng Estmere he stabled his steede Soe fayre att the hall-bord; The froth that came from his brydle bitte Light in Kyng Bremor’s beard. L Saies, ‘Stable thy steed, thou proud harpèr,’ Saies, ‘Stable him in the stalle; It doth not beseeme a proud harpèr To stable his steed in a kyng’s halle.’ LI ‘My ladde he is so lither[300],’ he said, ‘He will doe nought that’s meete; And is there any man in this hall Were able him to beate?’ LII ‘Thou speakst proud words,’ sayes the Kyng of Spaine, ‘Thou harper, here to mee; There is a man within this halle Will beate thy ladd and thee.’-- LIII ‘O let that man come downe,’ he said, ‘A sight of him wold I see; And when hee hath beaten well my ladd, Then he shall beate of mee.’ LIV Downe then came the kemperye man, And lookèd him in the eare; For all the gold that was under heaven, He durst not neigh[301] him neare. LV ‘And how nowe, kempe,’ said the Kyng of Spaine, ‘And how, what aileth thee?’-- He saies, ‘It is writt in his forhead, All and in gramarye, That for all the gold that is under heaven, I dare not neigh him nye.’ LVI Then Kyng Estmere pull’d forth his harpe, And play’d a pretty thinge; The ladye upstart from the borde, And wold have gone from the king. LVII ‘Stay thy harpe, thou proud harpèr, For God’s love I pray thee; For and thou playes as thou beginns, Thou’lt till[302] my bryde from mee.’ LVIII He stroake upon his harpe againe, And play’d a pretty thinge; The ladye lough a loud laughter, As shee sate by the king. LIX Saies, ‘Sell me thy harpe, thou proud harpèr, And thy stringës all; For as many gold nobles thou shall have, As heere bee ringes in the hall.’ LX ‘What wold ye doe with my harpe,’ he sayd, ‘If I did sell itt yee?’-- ‘To playe my wiffe and me a fitt[303], When abed together wee bee.’ LXI ‘Now sell me,’ quoth hee, ‘thy bryde soe gay, As shee sitts by thy knee; And as many gold nobles I will give As leaves been on a tree.’ LXII ‘And what wold ye doe with my bryde soe gay, Iff I did sell her thee? More seemelye it is for her fayre bodye To lye by mee then thee.’ LXIII Hee played agayne both loud and shrille, And Adler he did syng, ‘O ladye, this is thy owne true love, Noe harper, but a kyng. LXIV ‘O Ladye, this is thy owne true love, As playnlye thou mayest see, And Ile rid thee of that foule paynim Who partes thy love and thee.’ LXV The ladye looked, the ladye blushte, And blushte and lookt agayne, While Adler he hath drawne his brande, And hath the Sowdan slayne. LXVI