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.

    “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.’

    “The lady, gently blushing,
      With modest grace came on;
    And now to try the wondrous charm
      Courageously is gone.

    “When she had ta’en the mantle,
      And put it on her back,
    About the hem it seemed
      To wrinkle and to crack.

    “‘Lie still,’ she cried, ’O mantle! 
      And shame me not for naught;
    I’ll freely own whate’er amiss
      Or blameful I have wrought.

    “’Once I kissed Sir Cradock
      Beneath the greenwood tree;
    Once I kissed Sir Cradock’s mouth,
      Before he married me.’

    “When she had thus her shriven,
      And her worst fault had told,
    The mantle soon became her,
      Right comely as it should.