"'No wife it shall become,
That once hath been to blame.'
Then every knight in Arthur's court
Sly glanced at his dame.
"And first came Lady Guenever,
The mantle she must try.
This dame she was new-fangled, [1]
And of a roving eye.
"When she had taken the mantle,
And all with it was clad,
From top to toe it shivered down,
As though with shears beshred.
"One while it was too long,
Another while too short,
And wrinkled on her shoulders,
In most unseemly sort.
"Now green, now red it seemed,
Then all of sable hue;
'Beshrew me,' quoth King Arthur,
'I think thou be'st not true!'
"Down she threw the mantle,
No longer would she stay;
But, storming like a fury,
To her chamber flung away.
"She cursed the rascal weaver,
That had the mantle wrought;
And doubly cursed the froward imp
Who thither had it brought.
I had rather live in deserts,
Beneath the greenwood tree,
Than here, base king, among thy grooms
The sport of them and thee.'
"Sir Kay called forth his lady,
And bade her to come near:
'Yet dame, if thou be guilty,
I pray thee now forbear.'
"This lady, pertly giggling,
With forward step came on,
And boldly to the little boy
With fearless face is gone.
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