They built a ship without delay,
With masts of the rowan-tree,
With fluttering sails of silk so fine,
And set her on the sea.
They went on board, the wind with speed
Blew them along the deep;
At length they spied a huge square tower
On a rock so high and steep.
The sailors recognised the Northumbrian coast and King Ida’s Castle, and made towards shore.
Meanwhile, the queen looked out of her bower-window, and spying the gallant ship with its silken sails, sent out her evil companions, the “witch wives,” to sink it in the waters; but they returned baffled and sullen, murmuring that there must be rowan-wood about the ship, for all their spells were powerless. Next she dispatched a boat with armed men to withstand the landing of the vessel; but the gallant Childe speedily put them to the rout. Lastly, it would seem that the Worm itself withstood its deliverer, for we are told that
The Worme lept up, the Worme lept down,
She plaited round the stone,
And aye, as the ship came close to land,
She banged it off again.
However, the Childe of Wynde steered the ship out of her reach, ran ashore on the sands of Budle, a small village near Bamborough, and, drawing his sword, went boldly towards the monster, as if to do battle at once. But the creature submitted, exclaiming,—
“O quit thy sword, and bend thy bow,
And give me kisses three;
For though I be a poisonous Worme,
No hurt I’ll do to thee.
O quit thy sword, and bend thy bow,
And give me kisses three;
If I’m not won ere set of sun,
Won shall I never be.”
He quitted his sword, and bent his bow,
He gave her kisses three;
She crept into her hole a Worme,
But out stept a ladye.
