"When she had taken the mantle,
With purpose for to wear,
It shrunk up to her shoulder,
And left her back all bare.
"Then every merry knight,
That was in Arthur's court,
Gibed and laughed and flouted,
To see that pleasant sport.
"Down she threw the mantle,
No longer bold or gay,
But, with a face all pale and wan
To her chamber slunk away.
"Then forth came an old knight
A pattering o'er his creed,
And proffered to the little boy
Five nobles to his meed:
"'And all the time of Christmas
Plum-porridge shall be thine,
If thou wilt let my lady fair
Within the mantle shine.'
"A saint his lady seemed,
With step demure and slow,
And gravely to the mantle
With mincing face doth go.
"When she the same had taken
That was so fine and thin,
It shrivelled all about her,
And showed her dainty skin.
"Ah! little did her mincing,
Or his long prayers bestead;
She had no more hung on her
Than a tassel and a thread.
"Down she threw the mantle,
With terror and dismay,
And with a face of scarlet
To her chamber hied away.
"Sir Cradock called his lady,
And bade her to come near:
'Come win this mantle, lady,
And do me credit here:
"'Come win this mantle, lady,
For now it shall be thine,
If thou hast never done amiss,
Since first I made thee mine.
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