The romance of Guy of Warwick. The second or 15th-century version. Edited from the paper ms. Ff. 2. 38. in the University Library, Cambridge, by Dr. Julius Zupitza ...

                  
                    Noþyng sawe þey þem abowte,
                  
                    But salte watur and waweys stowte.
                  
                    Forthe þey went be day lyght,
                  
                    Tyll hyt drewe to the nyght.
                    Line 496 
                  
                    Londe they sye at the laste:
                  
                    Thedurwarde þey drewe faste.
                  
                    They came to londe wyth grete hye
                  
                    And ryden into Normandye.
                    Line 500 
                  
                    To a cyte they come wyth lyght,
                  
                    There they schulde be all nyght
                  
                    At a burges hows of the towne,
                  
                    That was a man of grete renown.
                    Line 504 
                  
                    As they at the soper sete
                  
                    (Some dranke and some ete),
                  
                    Gye cowde speke of many a þynge
                  
                    And axyd the gode man tythynge,
                    Line 508 
                  
                    Yf he harde anythynge
                  
                    Of turnament or of justynge.
                  
                    ¶ 'Ȝys, for sothe,' seyde þe gode man,
                  
                    'Of a turnament telle y can.
                    Line 512 
                  
                    Of Almayn the Emperowre
                  
                    Hath a doghtur of gret valowre,
                  
                    That hath a turnament let crye,
                  
                    The moste, þat euer man sye.
                    Line 516 
                  
                    Ther ys no knyght in þat cuntre,
                  
                    That ys of grete degree,
                  
                    That of armes anythynge can,
                  
                    But he schall be there than.
                    Line 520 
                  
                    Ne schall be knyȝt in all Spayne,
                  
                    From hens to þe see of Bretayne,
                  
                    That had louyd any maye ȝynge, [folio 164b:1] 
                  
                    But he schall be at that justynge
                    Line 524 
                  
                    For to do hys proves
                  
                    And to schewe hys hardynes.
                  
                    Thedur schall come knyȝtys of many londys

Page 16

                  
                    Wyth grete pryde and spere in þer hondys.
                    Line 528 
                  
                    Othyr thynge y schall the telle,
                  
                    That y haue herde spelle.
                  
                    He, that ys of grete valowre,
                  
                    Wynne he may grete honowre.
                    Line 532 
                  
                    That mayde, that y speke of here,
                  
                    Sche ys the Emperowres doghtere.
                  
                    That turnement sche schall see:
                  
                    Who may hur wynne, wele schall he be.
                    Line 536 
                  
                    A gerfawcon whyte, as mylke
                  
                    (In all þys worlde ys non swylk),
                  
                    And thre feyre stedys grete and hye
                  
                    (Feyrer sye neuyr man wyth eye:
                    Line 540 
                  
                    All be as whyte, as any snowe:
                  
                    Feyrer may no man knowe);
                  
                    Two feyre greyhowndys, þat be lyght
                  
                    (Bettur had neuer kyng nor knyght)—
                    Line 544 
                  
                    He, þat hath þe gre of turnament,
                  
                    All thys þyng schall be hym sent
                  
                    And þe loue of þat feyre wyght,
                  
                    But he haue a lemman bryght.'
                    Line 548 
                  
                    ¶ When he harde thys tythynge,
                  
                    He was gladde, wythowt lesynge,
                  
                    And seyde to hys companye:
                  
                    'Make we vs gladde and yolye.
                    Line 552 
                  
                    Wyth goddys grace, when hyt ys day,
                  
                    We wyll wende on owre way.'
                  
                    He gafe hys oost a gode palfray
                  
                    For hys wordys, þat he dud say.
                    Line 556 
                  
                    ¶ Gye rose in the mornynge
                  
                    And went forthe, wythowt lesynge,
                  
                    And hys odur men ychone,
                  
                    Knyghtys, squyers, oon and oon,
                    Line 560 
                  
                    That were bolde men in fyght
                  
                    To defende them and wyght,
                  
                    Tyll þey were come to justynge [folio 164b:2]

Page 17

                  
                    Amonge þe knyghtys in þat mornynge.
                    Line 564 
                  
                    ¶ Now ys Gye come to game,
                  
                    There fele knyghtys be gedurd same.
                  
                    Owt of the lystys rode a knyght,
                  
                    That was feyre, gent and wyght.
                    Line 568 
                  
                    Gye askyd oon, þat by hym stode,
                  
                    What was þat knyȝt, þat owt þere rode,
                  
                    And he answeryd syr Gye than:
                  
                    'I schall the telle, as y can.
                    Line 572 
                  
                    Ȝondyr ys Gayere, an harde swayn,
                  
                    The emperowre sone of Almayn,
                  
                    That ys redy for to play,
                  
                    Yf any knyght come hym to say.'
                    Line 576 
                  
                    ¶ When Gye sye hyt was Gayere,
                  
                    Armed he rode hym nere.
                  
                    Owt of þe lyste he can sone ryde
                  
                    In the place to abyde.
                    Line 580 
                  
                    Be þat þe knyghtys came same.
                  
                    Now begynneth a newe game:
                  
                    Gayer smote Gye in the felde
                  
                    Wyth hys spere thorow þe schelde,
                    Line 584 
                  
                    That hys spere brake in two:
                  
                    Gyes hawberk dud not soo.
                  
                    Gye smot Gayer wyth myght,
                  
                    To þe erthe he feele down ryght.
                    Line 588 
                  
                    Gayers hors he lepe vpon
                  
                    And let hys own awey goon.
                  
                    Tho began Gye to play:
                  
                    He fellyd all, þat stode in hys way.
                    Line 592 
                  
                    He dud well, wythowten fayle:
                  
                    He toke knyghtys in þat batayle;
                  
                    He brake so many sperys asonder,
                  
                    That eche man of hym had wonder.
                    Line 596 
                  
                    Was noon so strong a knyȝt, þat he smote,
                  
                    But þat he fell down to hys fote.
                  
                    ¶ The felle dewke Oton of Payuye

Page 18

                  
                    To Gye had grete envye.
                    Line 600 
                  
                    Wyth pryde he wolde juste wyth Gye:
                  
                    The worse parte come hym bye. [folio 165a:1] 
                  
                    Gye smote hym þorow þe schouldur bone:
                  
                    The dewke felle of hys hors anon.
                    Line 604 
                  
                    ¶ There come prykyng dewke Raynere,
                  
                    A bolde knyght wythowten feere,
                  
                    Pressyng on a stede faste:
                  
                    Of Gye was he not agaste.
                    Line 608 
                  
                    'Traytur,' he seyde, 'þou schalt abye:
                  
                    Why smote þou Oton of Payuye?
                  
                    In euyll tyme þou dedyst hym wronge.
                  
                    He ys my neme, y schall the honge.
                    Line 612 
                  
                    Here y am, the dewke Raynere:
                  
                    I wyll my neeme awreke here.'
                  
                    'I wyll,' seyde Gye, 'so mote y the,
                  
                    Furste turne ageyn and juste wyth the.'
                    Line 616 
                  
                    Gye turned hym and smote faste:
                  
                    Boþe þer sperys [e in sperys effaced.]  all tobraste.
                  
                    Gye smot Rayner on the schelde,
                  
                    That hyt flewe into the felde,
                    Line 620 
                  
                    And smote hym downe of hys stede.
                  
                    To hys hors sone he yede:
                  
                    'Syr dewke, haue here ageyn þy stede.
                  
                    When þou seyst tyme, qwyte me my mede.'
                    Line 624 
                  
                    And sythen he qwyt hym full well;
                  
                    For he was a knyght gentyll.
                  
                    The dewke vp start all in hye
                  
                    And ranne to Gye smertlye.
                    Line 628 
                  
                    Syr knyght, telle me beforne:
                  
                    What ys þy name? where were þou borne?'
                  
                    'Gye of Warwyk, for sothe, y hyght:
                  
                    In Ynglonde was y borne aryght.'
                    Line 632 
                  
                    ¶ Tho came the dewke Louayne, [MS. loyane.] 
                  
                    Wyth Gye he wolde juste fayne.

Page 19

                  
                    Wyth a scharpe growndyn [First n in growndyn effaced.]  spere
                  
                    He rode to Gye faste there.
                    Line 636 
                  
                    Gye turned ageyn and of hym had wondur,
                  
                    But sone þer sperys brake in sondur.
                  
                    Faste þey drewe ther bryght brondys
                  
                    And faght togedur wyth boþe þer hondys. [folio 165a:2] 
                    Line 640 
                  
                    ¶ Tho come prekyng Harrawt
                  
                    And to dewke Myrande he made asawte.
                  
                    Of hys hors he hym caste:
                  
                    Hys strenkyþ myght no lenger laste;
                    Line 644 
                  
                    And sythen he smot Waldynere:
                  
                    To þe grownde he fellyd hym there.
                  
                    He bare hym well, as knyght hardy:
                  
                    So dud Toralde and Vrry.
                    Line 648 
                  
                    ¶ Nowe ys þe turnament well stronge:
                  
                    Wyth grete strokys euer amonge
                  
                    Many sperys brake in twoo
                  
                    And many to the erthe can goo.
                    Line 652 
                  
                    No clerke can on boke rede
                  
                    To telle þe doghtynes of þer dede,
                  
                    But all the men wyth hartys free
                  
                    Haue geuyn Gye the maystree.
                    Line 656 
                  
                    Gye had the pryce and no nodur
                  
                    That day and ylke the todur.
                  
                    ¶ When hyt come to the þrydde day,
                  
                    That all knyghtys went away,
                    Line 660 
                  
                    Then came the dewke Raynere,
                  
                    An hardy knyght and a stere, [fere?] 
                  
                    And seyde: 'herkyn eche man to me
                  
                    And, yf y amys seye, amende me.
                    Line 664 
                  
                    Geve me the stedys and the fawcon
                  
                    And þe greyhowndys: wyth gret reson
                  
                    He schall þem haue, þat þem wanne,
                  
                    Of Warwykk Gye, þat doghty man.
                    Line 668 
                  
                    He, that seyth, hyt ys any odur,

Page 20

                  
                    I wyll hyt preue, þogh he were my brodur.'
                  
                    And all þey seyde wyth oon assente:
                  
                    'We graunt wele to yowre yugement.'
                    Line 672 
                  
                    Thorow þe place þey dud crye
                  
                    To ȝylde that present to syr Gye.
                  
                    ¶ Now ys departyd that turnement,
                  
                    And Gye ys to hys ynne went.
                    Line 676 
                  
                    He dud of hys armowre: [folio 165b:1] 
                  
                    He was full wery in þat stowre.
                  
                    Than came a squyer prekynge
                  
                    Hende and wyse and wele spekynge.
                    Line 680 
                  
                    To Gyes chaumbur he ys gone
                  
                    And gret hym wele feyre anone.
                  
                    'God þe save,' he seyde, 'syr Gye,
                  
                    Of all þe worlde þe moost worthy.
                    Line 684 
                  
                    Thou haste þe pryce of þys turnament:
                  
                    Thys present ys to the sente
                  
                    On þe maydenys halfe Blanchflowre,
                  
                    Kyngys doghtur and emperowre,
                    Line 688 
                  
                    And þe loue of þat maydyn ȝynge,
                  
                    So þou haue no nodur darlynge.'
                  
                    ¶ Gye answerde at that tyme:
                  
                    'Haue þou goddys thanke and myne.
                    Line 692 
                  
                    I wyll hyt resseyue wyth wyll gode
                  
                    And hur loue wyth well gladder [gladde?]  mode:
                  
                    I wyll hur serve wyth all my myght
                  
                    Euyr, as hur owne trewe knyght.
                    Line 696 
                  
                    Felowe,' seyde Gye, 'herkyn to me:
                  
                    Knyght wyll y dubbe the, [mee before the blotted out in MS.] 
                  
                    The, and thy seruawntys thre
                  
                    Schall haue ryche gyftys of me,
                    Line 700 
                  
                    For ye wolde do thys message:
                  
                    Y schall qwyte yow wele yowre wage.'
                  
                    Than þey seyde all togedur:
                  
                    'Therfore came we not hedur;

                    Line 704

Page 21

                  
                    Line 704 
                  
                    But god the ȝylde, þat beste may.
                  
                    We wyll not dwelle, haue gode day
                  
                    We wyll telle Blancheflowre
                  
                    Of thy gyftus and thyn honowre.'
                    Line 708 
                  
                    ¶ The messengere home ys went
                  
                    And lefte there stylle þat present.
                  
                    Two seruauntys Gye can calle
                  
                    And bad þem hye swythe all
                    Line 712 
                  
                    And take þat present so hende [folio 165b:2] 
                  
                    Into Ynglonde for to wende.
                  
                    To þe erle Roholde they schall fare
                  
                    And delyuyr to hym þat present þare
                    Line 716 
                  
                    And sey, þat Gye hym þat hath sente.
                  
                    When þey harde hys comawndement,
                  
                    Wythowtyn more forthe they rode,
                  
                    Tyll þey were passyd þe see brode.
                    Line 720 
                  
                    When þey came to Ynglonde,
                  
                    At Warwyk þe erle þey fonde
                  
                    And gaue hym þere þat present
                  
                    And seyde, þat Gye hyt had hym sent,
                    Line 724 
                  
                    The gerfawcon and þe stedys thre
                  
                    And the greyhowndys feyre and free:
                  
                    As Gye þem wanne, þere þey tolde
                  
                    And how he was boþe wyght and bolde
                    Line 728 
                  
                    And how Blancheflowre, þat swete þyng,
                  
                    Let crye and make a grete justynge,
                  
                    That sche myght see in the felde,
                  
                    Who cowde beste welde spere and schylde
                    Line 732 
                  
                    And whych was the feyrest knyght
                  
                    And in batell beste cowde fyght:
                  
                    He schulde haue thys present
                  
                    And þe loue of þat maydyn gente.
                    Line 736 
                  
                    When þe erle harde þys tythynge,
                  
                    He was gladde, wythowt lesynge, [The first e in lesynge is not quite clear.] 
                  
                    That Gye was of so grete prys

Page 22

                  
                    And so ware a man and wys.
                    Line 740 
                  
                    Hys fadur and hys modur for hys sake
                  
                    Grete yoye dud they make.
                  
                    ¶ Nowe wendyth Gye to justynge
                  
                    For to wynne hym preysynge.
                    Line 744 
                  
                    In Almayn and in Lumbardye,
                  
                    Yn Frawnce and in Normandye—
                  
                    Ther was no justyng in þat londe,
                  
                    But Gye had the bettur honde.
                    Line 748 
                  
                    Nowe ys he come wyth gret honowre
                  
                    To Rome to hys harbenyowre. [folio 166a:1] 
                  
                    Now spake Harawde, that knyght,
                  
                    Gyes maystyr day and nyght:
                    Line 752 
                  
                    'Now wyll we wende to owre contre.
                  
                    We may wele, so mote y the.
                  
                    Into Ynglonde wyll we fare
                  
                    And gete vs loue of kyng Edgare
                    Line 756 
                  
                    And of all the baronage,
                  
                    That be men of grete parage.'
                  
                    'Syr,' he seyde, 'y grawnt wele,
                  
                    That ye sey, euery dele.
                    Line 760 
                  
                    We wyll to morowe, when hyt ys day,
                  
                    Hye vs faste on owre way.'
                  
                    ¶ A gode schypp there þey fonde
                  
                    And sayled ouer boþe wawe and sonde.
                    Line 764 
                  
                    Now be þey come to Ynglonde:
                  
                    The kyng þere sone they fonde.
                  
                    The kyng of hym was full gladde
                  
                    And all þe men, that he hadde.
                    Line 768 
                  
                    Sythen to Warwyk can þey goon:
                  
                    The erle Roholde they fonde anon,
                  
                    That of hym was full blythe
                  
                    And thankyd god fele sythe.
                    Line 772 
                  
                    Golde and syluyr he wolde hym take,
                  
                    A ryche man he wolde hym make.
                  
                    Hys fadur and modur for hys sake

Page 23

                  
                    Grete yoye can they make.
                    Line 776 
                  
                    ¶ Nowe ys Gye to Felyce went,
                  
                    On whome all hys loue was lent.
                  
                    He gret hur on hys manere
                  
                    And seyde: 'god loke þe, my lemman dere.
                    Line 780 
                  
                    I haue for the turned my redde:
                  
                    Yf þou were not, y were but dedde.
                  
                    Ordyr of knyght þou dud me take,
                  
                    And passyd the see for thy sake.
                    Line 784 
                  
                    Then þou seyde to me wele ryght,
                  
                    When y were a doghty knyght
                  
                    And went far into straunge londe [folio 166a:2] 
                  
                    Dedes of armes for to fonde,
                    Line 788 
                  
                    Then schulde y haue þe loue of the:
                  
                    Therof well gladde wyll y bee.
                  
                    Now am y come to wytt thy wylle,
                  
                    What þou wylt seye lowde or stylle.'
                    Line 792 
                  
                    ¶ Felyce seyde full wysely:
                  
                    'Haue therof no haste, syr Gye.
                  
                    Ȝyt art þou not of soche poste,
                  
                    But ther be bettur in thys contre.
                    Line 796 
                  
                    Thou art well stronge and wyght,
                  
                    Bolde also in every fyght:
                  
                    Yf y the graunt ouyr all thynge
                  
                    My loue and to be thy derlynge,
                    Line 800 
                  
                    Thou woldest be so yelowse
                  
                    And of me so amerowse,
                  
                    That þou woldest not þy narmes take:
                  
                    Then wolde þy lose moche slake.
                    Line 804 
                  
                    That were a grete schame for the
                  
                    To lose þy pryce for þe loue of me.
                  
                    All my þoght y wyll the schowe, [MS. schewe.] 
                  
                    For y wyll, that þou hyt knowe.
                    Line 808 
                  
                    My love y wyll not the hyght,
                  
                    Or thou be the boldyst knyght,

Page 24

                  
                    That may be fownde in any londe
                  
                    Of doghtynes and strenckyth of honde,
                    Line 812 
                  
                    Of euery justyng and stronge stowre
                  
                    Of all the worlde to bere the flowre;
                  
                    And, when þou haste borne þe so euyn,
                  
                    That þer ys no bettur vndur hevyn,
                    Line 816 
                  
                    All my loue thou schalt haue
                  
                    And þeraftur no lenger crave:
                  
                    All the whyle y am on lyue,
                  
                    Wyll y be thy weddyd wyue.'
                    Line 820 
                  
                    ¶ When Gye harde Felyce speke,
                  
                    Hym þoght, hys hert wolde breke.
                  
                    'Now wot y wele, þou seydyst not ryght,
                  
                    When þou me furste of loue behyght.
                    Line 824 
                  
                    The beste schall y neuyr bee, [folio 166b:1] 
                  
                    That ys in all crystyante.
                  
                    I schall wende to far londe,
                  
                    More of justyng wyll y fonde.
                    Line 828 
                  
                    From the dethe y schall not flee:
                  
                    If y dye, hyt ys for thee.'
                  
                    ¶ All wepeyng he went awey
                  
                    And toke hys leue at þat may.
                    Line 832 
                  
                    He ys went to hys oostell, [MS. cowncell.] 
                  
                    There wyll he no lenger dwelle:
                  
                    To the erle he toke hys way.
                  
                    'Syr,' he seyde, 'haue gode day.
                    Line 836 
                  
                    I wyll wende on the stronde
                  
                    Ferr into a nodur londe.
                  
                    I wyll put me forþe, as y can,
                  
                    To be knowen a doghty man
                    Line 840 
                  
                    And be preysed for my prowe,
                  
                    And y wyste, what wey and howe.
                  
                    And ye haue men [MS. me.]  of gret valowre,
                  
                    Moche hyt ys for yowre honowre:
                    Line 844 
                  
                    Ye schulde be holde the more dere

Page 25

                  
                    In euery londe bothe ferre and nere.'
                  
                    ¶ Than he spake, the erle Rohawt:
                  
                    'Syr Gye, haste þou any defawte
                    Line 848 
                  
                    Of golde, of syluyr or [or added over the line.]  of ryche clothe?
                  
                    Or any man haþ made þe wrothe?
                  
                    Syr Gye, leue þat fowle wylle
                  
                    And leue at home here wyth me stylle.
                    Line 852 
                  
                    Thou schalt haue, what þou wylt craue:
                  
                    Hawkes, howndys, what þou wylt haue.
                  
                    Wyth howndys we wyll chace dere
                  
                    And wyth hawkes to the ryuere.
                    Line 856 
                  
                    To dwelle at home ys my cownceyle: [MS. cowncell.] 
                  
                    That may the gretly avayle.
                  
                    In tyme þen may þou passe þe see,
                  
                    Afturwarde, when bettur may bee.'
                    Line 860 
                  
                    'Syr,' he seyde, 'at thys tyde
                  
                    For nothyng wyll y here abyde.
                  
                    God yow ȝylde, haue gode day.'
                  
                    He toke hys leue and went away.
                    Line 864 
                  
                    ¶ To hys fadur he went full ȝare. [folio 166b:2] 
                  
                    'Syr,' he seyde, 'y wyll fare
                  
                    To the londe, there y was ere,
                  
                    A whyle for to dwelle there
                    Line 868 
                  
                    For to wynne me loueyng
                  
                    Bothe of emperowre and of kynge.
                  
                    He, that may do gode dede,
                  
                    He schulde hym force in yowthehede,
                    Line 872 
                  
                    So þat he may, when he ys oolde,
                  
                    For a doghty man be tolde.
                  
                    The whyle y am a yonge man,
                  
                    I wyll travell, as y can,
                    Line 876 
                  
                    That men may holde me doghty in elde,
                  
                    When y may not myselfe welde.'
                  
                    ¶ 'Swete sone, let be thy fare:
                  
                    Thou makest me to haue sorowe and care.

                    Line 880

Page 26

                  
                    Line 880 
                  
                    Whereto schulde þou passe the see?
                  
                    Hyt ys bettur at home to bee.'
                  
                    Then spake hys modur dere:
                  
                    'Leef soone, dwelle thou here.
                    Line 884 
                  
                    Do aftur thy fadurs redde:
                  
                    Hyt wyll the helpe from the dedde.
                  
                    All thys yere thou wyth vs bee
                  
                    And afturward þou passe the see.
                    Line 888 
                  
                    Thou wottyst, we haue no nodur heyre,
                  
                    But thou, my swete sone dere.
                  
                    Yf þou were deed thore,
                  
                    Heyre schulde we haue no more.
                    Line 892 
                  
                    Who schulde þen aftur owre day
                  
                    Haue owre londys, yf þou ne may?'
                  
                    'Fadur,' he seyde, 'god the kepe,'
                  
                    And therwyth he can wepe;
                    Line 896 
                  
                    'And my modur dere alsoo:
                  
                    Haue gode day, for y wyll goo.'
                  
                    ¶ Now ys Gye goon fro hys kynne,
                  
                    God hym sende ageyne wyth wynne.
                    Line 900 
                  
                    To the see he ys goon,
                  
                    A gode schyppe there he nome.
                  
                    He passyd the see in hye,
                  
                    Comen he ys to Normandye.
                    Line 904 
                  
                    Thorowe the londe vtturly [folio 167a:1] 
                  
                    He dud grete cheualry.
                  
                    Forthe he went to Bretayne.
                  
                    There were justyngys in Spayne,
                    Line 908 
                  
                    That he went to turnaye,
                  
                    Whyll he was there, euery day.
                  
                    Now wendyth he fro Spayne,
                  
                    Comen he ys to Almayne.
                    Line 912 
                  
                    Fro þens he went to Lumbardye,
                  
                    There was grete cheualrye.
                  
                    Thorow hys strenkyth þere he wanne
                  
                    Grete looueyng of many a man.

                    Line 916

Page 27

                  
                    Line 916 
                  
                    He was large of spendynge:
                  
                    They honowred hym, as a kynge.

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The romance of Guy of Warwick. The second or 15th-century version. Edited from the paper ms. Ff. 2. 38. in the University Library, Cambridge, by Dr. Julius Zupitza ...

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