Page:Poems and ballads (IA poemsballads00swinrich).pdf/275

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THE MASQUE OF QUEEN BERSABE.
257

Through some ill craft; by Poulis head,
I doubt his blood hath made so red
This bird that flew from the queen's bed
Whereof ye have such fear.

king david.

Yea, my good knave, and is it said

That I can raise men from the dead?
By God I think to have his head
Who saith words of my lady's bed
For any thief to hear,

Et percutiat eum in capite.


queen bersabe.

I wis men shall spit at me,

And say it were but right for thee
That one should hang thee on a tree;
Ho! it were a fair thing to see
The big stones bruise her false body;
Fie! who shall see her dead?

king david.

I rede you have no fear of this,

For as ye wot, the first good kiss
I had must be the last of his;
Now are ye queen of mine I wis,
And lady of a house that is
Full rich of meat and bread.