The live-long night the damsel sobbed and sang:
"Seven long years I served for thee,
The glassy hill I clomb for thee,
Thy bloody clothes I wrang for thee;
And wilt thou not waken and turn to me?"
[Illustration: THE GLASSY HILL I CLOMB FOR THEE]
Next day she knew not what to do for grief. Then she broke the pear, and
found it filled with jewellery far richer than the contents of the
apple. With these jewels she bargained for permission to be a second
night in the young knight's chamber; but the old wife gave him another
sleeping drink, and again he slept till morning. All night she kept
sighing and singing as before:
"Seven long years I served for thee,
The glassy hill I clomb for thee,
Thy bloody clothes I wrang for thee;
And wilt thou not waken and turn to me?"
Still he slept, and she nearly lost hope altogether, But that day, when
he was out hunting, somebody asked him what noise and moaning was that
they heard all last night in his bedchamber.
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