To him the stripling turns, with suppliant cry, And, "By thy God, sir knight," exclaims, "I pray, Be not so passing cruel, nor deny That I in earth my honoured king may lay:
No other grace I supplicate, nor I
This for the love of life, believe me, say.
So much, no longer, space of life I crave.
As may suffice to give my lord a grave.
