Chapter 44 of 112 · 49 words · ~1 min read

XXVII.

"Sair bleids my liege, sair, sair he bleeds!" Again wi' might he drew 210 And gesture dread his sturdy bow, Fast the braid arrow flew: Wae to the knight he ettled at;[498] Lament now queen Elgreed; High dames too wail your darling's fall, 215 His youth and comely meed.