"O Miriam thy chiding I pray, forego; * Nor drive me to death or injurious blow: How e'er can I hope to bear fray and fight * Who quake at the croak of the corby-crow? I who shiver for fear when I see the mouse * And for very funk I bepiss my clo'! I loveno foin but the poke in bed, * When coynte well knoweth my prickle's prow; This is rightful rede, and none other shows * Righteous as this in my sight, I trow."
Now when Miriam heard his speech and the verse he made, she laughed and smilingly said, "O my lord Nur al-Din, abide in thy place and I will keep thee from their ill grace, though they be as the sea-sands in number. But mount and ride in rear of me, and if we be defeated and put to flight, beware of falling, for none can overtake thy steed." So saying, she turned her lance-head to
