"What other knight would'st thou invite
Sir Bullstrode to defy?
Is he a lover? I grant no parle,
For I am resolved to know,
And wish, by my sword, no better a quarrel;
And be he a ceorl, or be he an earl,
He goes to shades below."

"No lover is he, my father dear,
My champion who shall be;
A stranger knight shall for me fight,
And shall my fate decree."
"Well done! well done!" cried Sir Bullstrode,
"That goeth with my gree;
May the carrion crow be then abroad,
All hungry to feed upon carrion food,
That day he fights with me."

"But let this contract," said the maid,
"Be written on parchment skin,
And signed, and sealed, and witnessèd,
That surety I may find."
Again the father knit his brow,
Yet could not he complain,
Because Sir Bullstrode wished it so,
That all the world might come to know
His honour he could maintain.


IV.