Then every knight in the kings court Forth came dame Guénever; When shee had taken the mantle; One while was it 'gule;' Another while was it blacke Shee threw downe the mantle, Fast with a rudd redd, She curst the weaver, and the walker, And bade a vengeance on his crowne, I had rather be in a wood, V. 32, his wiffe. MS. V. 34, bided. MS. V. 41, gaule. MS. 35 40 45 50 55 60 'And there as he was lookinge He was ware of a wyld bore.' He was ware of a wyld bore, He brought in the bores head, He said there was never a cuckolds kniffe Carve itt that cold. 155 160 165 170 175 180 |