Three early English metrical romances with an introduction and glossary / edited from a ms. in the possession of J. I. Blackburne, Esq. M.P. by John Robson.

EARLY ENGLISH METRICAL ROMANCES.

THE ANTURS OF ARTHER AT THE TARNEWATHELAN.

I.

IN the tyme of Arther thys antur be-tydde, Be-syde the Tarnewathelan, as the boke tellus; That he to Karlylle was comun, that conquerour kydde, Wythe dukys, and with dosiperus, that with the deure dwellus, For to hunte atte the herd, that lung hase bynne hydde; Tyl on a day thay hom dyȝt into the depe dellus, Fellun to tho femalus, in forest was fredde; Fayre by fermesones, by frythys, and felles, To the wudde thay weyndun, these wlonkes in wedes; Bothe the kyng and the qwene, And other doȝti by-dene; Syr Gawan, graythist on grene, Dame Gaynore he ledus.

II.

Thenne Syr Gawan the gode, Dame Gaynour he ledus, Inne a gliderand gyde, that glemit so gay; That was with rebans reuersut, quo so ryȝt redys, Arayit aure with rebans, rycheste of ray; Hur hud of a haa hew, that hur hede hidus, Of purpure, and palle werke, and perrè to pay; Wos schrod in a schort cloke, that the rayn shredes,

Set aure with saferes, quo sothely will say, Safers and seledyms, serclet on sydus; Her sadylle sette with that ilke, With ryche sa savmhellus of sylke, Opun a mule as the mylke; Thus gayli ho glydus. [ST. II. l. 13. Saude with sambutes of sylke. MS. Douce.]

III.

And thus Dame Gaynour the gode, gayli ho glidus The gatys with Syr Gawan, by a grene welle; And a byrne on a blonke, that with the quene a-bydus, That borne was in Burgoyne, be boke and by belle; So lung he ledys that lady by that loghe sydus, [III. 5.—Loghe landez, MS. Lincoln.—Lawe, MS. Douce.—V. infra, VII. 5.] Ther at a laurialle scho lyȝt, loe by a hille; The fellus, Arther and his hurles, hernestely he rydest, To teche hom to hor tristurs, quo truly wille telle; To hor tristurs he hom taȝte, quo truly me trowes, Yche lord with-outen lette, Vn-to a tre ar thay sette, Wyth bow and wyth berselette, Vndurneth the boes.

IV.

Thus vndur boes thay byde, than byrnes so bold, To beker atte the barrens, in bonkes so bare; There myȝte hathels on hye, herdus be-hold, To herkyn huntyng with horne, in holtis so hore; Thay kest of hor cowpullus, in cliffes so cold, Cumfordun hor kenettes, to kele hom of care; Thay felle to the female dure, feyful thyk fold; With felle houundus and with fresche, thay folo the fare.

Thay questun, thay quellun, By frythun, by fellun, The dere in the dellun, Thay droupun and daren.

V.

Alle dyrkyns the dere, in the dym scoghes, For drede of the dethe droupus the doe; For the squyppand watur, that squytherly squoes, Thayre werre on the wild squyne wurchis hom wo. The hunteres thay haulen, by hurstes and by hoes, To the rest raches that releues of the roe: Thay geuen no gomen, nyf no grythe, that on the grounde groes, [V. 6,7.

And bluwe rechas, rially thei ranne to the ro. Thay gafe to no gamen, that on grownde growes. MS. Douce.

And tille thaire riste, raches relyes onne thaire raye; They gafe no gamen, no grythe, that on grownde growes. MS. Lincoln.

"And to their resting place hounds follow, on their track (?) They gave no sport, no respite." The second line is repeated (without the negative) infra XII 3, and appears to conclude with a sort of conventional or expletive phrase.

] The grehoundys in the grene greues, so gladdely thay goe; Thus gladdely thay goe, in greuis so grene, The king blue a rechase, Folut fast on the trase, With mony seriandys of mase, That solas to see.

VI.

Thus that solas to see, the semelokest of alle, Thay soȝt to thayre souerayne, undur the scha schene; Alle butte Syr Gauan, graythest of alle, Was laft with Dame Gaynour, vndur the greues grene. By a lauryel ho lay, vndur a lefe sale, Of box and of barberè, byggyt ful bene; Euyn atte the mydday this ferly con falle, And this mykyl meruel, that I of mene;

Nou wold I of this meruel mele, if I moȝt, The day wex as dirke As the mydnyȝte myrke, Ther-of Syr Arther wos irke, And liȝte on his fote.

VII.

Thus on fote con thay founde, these frekes vn-fayn, And fled to the forest fro the fau fellus; [VII. 2. Fawe fellis, MS. Lincoln.—Fewe, MS. Douce.] Thay ran to the raches, for redeles of rayn, [3. To the roches, for reddoure, MS. D. to the rocks, for fear.] For the snyterand snaue, that snaypely hom snellus; So come a lau oute of a loghe, in lede is noȝt to layn, In lykenes of Lucifere, lauyst in hellus; Glydand to Dame Gaynour, hyre gates were gayne, ȝauland ful ȝamerly, with mony loude ȝelles; Hyt ȝaulit, hit ȝamurt, with wlonkes full wete, And sayd with sykyng sare, "I banne the byrde that me bare, For noue comyn is my care, I gloppen and Y grete!"

VIII.

Alle gloppuns and gretys Dame Gaynour the gay, And sayd to Syr Gauan, "Quat is thi best rede?" "Hyt is but the clyppus of the sune, I herd a clerk say;" And thus he cumforthes the quene, throghe his knyȝt-hed; Ho sayd, "Syr Cador, Syr Clegius, Syr Costantyne, Syr Cay, These knyȝtes ar vn-curtas, by cros, and by crede! That thus haue laft me allone, at my dethe day, With on the grymlokkest gost, that euer herd I grete!" "Of the gost," quod the gome, "greue thè no mare;

For I wille speke with the sprete, And of hit woe wille I wete, Gif that I may hit bales bete, And the body bare."

IX.

Alle bare was the body, and blak by the bone, Vmbeclosut in a cloude, in clething evyl clad; Hit ȝaulut, hit ȝamurt, lyke a woman, Nauthyr of hyde, nyf of heue, no hillyng hit had; Hyt stedyt, hit stode as stylle as a stone; Hyt menet, hit musut, hyt marret for madde. Vn-to the gryselyche gost Syr Gauane is gone, And rayket to hit in a res, for he was neuyr radde; Rad was he neuyr ȝette, quo so ryȝte redus; Opon the chefe of hur cholle, A padok prykette on a polle, Hyr enyn were holket and holle, And gloet as the gledes.

X.

Alle gloet as the gledes, the gost qwere hit glidus, Was vmbyclosut in a cloude, in clething vn-clere Was sette aure with serpentes, that sate to the sydus; To telle the todus ther opon with tung were ful tere. Then this byrne braydet owte a brand, and the body bidus; For alle this chiualrouse knyȝt, chonget no chere; The houndes hyes to the holtes, and thayre hedus hidus; The greundes were alle a-gast, of the gryme bere. Thus were the grehondes a-gast of the gryme bere; The bryddus in the boes, That of the gost gous, Thay scryken in the scoes, That herdus myȝten hom here.

XI.

Alle the herdus myȝtun here, the hyndest of alle, Off the schaft and the shol, shaturt to the shin; Thenne coniurt the knyȝt, and on Cryst callus, "As Thou was claryfiet on crosse, and clanser of synne, Wys me, thou waret wyȝte! quedur that thou schalle, Querfore that thou walkes these woddes with-inne?" Ho sayd, ho was a figure of flesche, fayrest of alle, "Crystunt and crisumpte with kingus in my kynne; I hade kingus in my kynne, that kyd were for kene; Thus God hase grauntut me grace, To dre my penawunse in this place, And I am comun in this cace, To carpe with ȝour qwene.

XII.

For qwene was I sum-qwile, briȝter of broes Thenne Berel, or Brangeuayne, the birdus so bold; Of alle the gomun, and the grythe, that on the ground groes, Grattur thenne Dame Gaynour, be grete sowmus of gold; Of palas, of parkes, of poundes, of ploes, Of toures, of tounes, of tresurus vn-told; Of castels, of cuntrayes, of cliffes, of cloes, Thus am I cachet fro kythe, to cares so kold! Thus am I cachet to care, and couchet in clay; Lo! thou curtase knyȝte, Houe dylful dethe hase me dyȝte, To lette me onus haue a syȝte Of Ganore the gay."

XIII.

Thenne Syr Gauan the gode, to Gaynour is gone, Be-fore the body he hur broȝte, and the byrde bryȝte, Ho sayd, "Welcum, Waynor, i-wys, wurlok in wone

Lo! hou dilful dethe hase thi Dame dyȝte! For my rud was raddur then rose of the ron, My lere as the lilly that lauchet so lyȝte; Now I am a gryselyche gost, and griseliche I grone, With Lucifere, in a lake, thus lau am I lyȝte. Thus lau am I lyȝte, take wittenesse by me; For alle ȝour fresche forur, [XIII. 10.

For alle ȝoure fresche fauoure Nowe moyse on this mirroure. MS. L.

] That menes of ȝour merur, Kynge, Duke, and Emperoure, Alle thus schalle ȝe be.

XIV.

Thus dethe wille ȝo diȝte, I do ȝo oute of doute, And therfore hertely take hede, quyles that thou art here; Qwen thou art ray richest, and rydus in thi route, [XIV. 3. Richely arrayede. MS. L.] Haue petè on the pore, quyl thou hase pouere: Quen birdus, and birnys ar besy thè aboute, Quyl thi body be boumet, and broȝte on a bere, Thay wille leue thè ful lyȝteli, that noue wil thè loute, And then helpes thè no thing, but holi prayere. For the prayer of the pore may purchase thi pece; Those at thou ȝees at thi ȝate, Quen thou art sette in thi sete, With alle the myrthes at thi mete, And dayntethis on dese.

XV.

With alle dayntethis on dese, thi dietis ar diȝte, And I in dungun, and dill, is done for to duelle; Naxty, and nedy, and nakut, opon heȝte; For in wunnyng place, is woe for to duelle; [XV. 4. There folo me a ferde of fendis of helle. MS. D.]

Thay hurlun me vn-hindely, thay haue me on heȝte, In brasse, and in brinstone, I brenne as a belle; For I ne wotte in this word, so woful a wiȝte; Hit were fulle tere for a tung, my tourmentes to telle. Now wold I of these tourmentes talk or I goe, Thenke thou throli opon this, And founde to mend of thi mys, For thou art warnut i-wis; Be-war of my woe!"

XVI.

"Ways me for thi wirde!" cothe Waynor, "i-wis, But on thing wold I wete, and thi wille ware, Quethir authir matyns, or masse, myȝt mend thè of mys, Or any mubulle on the muld, my myrthe were the more; Or bedus of these bischoppus, myȝte bringe thè to blis, Or couand in the cloystur, myȝt kele thè of care, For giffe thè were my modur, grete wundur hit ware, That euyr thy burliche body bryȝte is so bare!" Ho sayd, "I bare thè of my body, quat bote is to layne? By a token thou me troue, I breke a solem adecoue, [XVI. 11. I brake a solempne a-vowe. MSS. D. and L.] That non wist but I and thou, Quo sotheli wille sayne!"

XVII.

"Say me," quod Gaynour, "quat myȝte saue thè from site Fro citè I schalle sayntes ger seke sone for thi sake; For tho baleful bestus that on thi body bites; Alle blynde is my ble, thi blode is so blake!" "These ar luf peramourus, that listus and likes, Dose me lyȝte, and lynd lau in in a lake;

Alle the welthe of this worde thus a-way wytes, With these wrechut wurmus, that wurchen me this wrake. Thus to wrake am I wroȝte, Waynor, i-wis; Were thrittè trentes of masse done, Be-twyx vndur and none, My saule were socurt ful sone, And broȝte un-to blys."

XVIII.

Ho sayd, "To that blys bring thè that birne that boȝt vs with his blode, As he was clarifiet on crosse, and crounet with thorne, Cristunt and crisumte, with condul and with code, Folut in a fontestone, frely biforne; And Mary, his modur, that mylde is of mode, Of qwom that blisfulle barne in Bedelem was born; He gif me grace, to grete thi saule with the gode, And myn thè with massus, and matins, on morun." "To mynne me with massus, grete mestur hit were; For him that rest on the rode, Thou dele fast of thi gode, To tho that fales the fode, Qwillus that thou art here."

XIX.

"Here I hete the my hond, thi hestus to hold, With a milium of masse to make thi mynnyng; But on thing," [cothe] Waynour, "that I wete wold, Quat wrathes Crist most at thi weting?" Ho sayd, "Pride with his purtenans, hase prophetes haue told, And enperit to the pepulle in hor preching; [XIX. 6. By-fore the pople appertly, in thaire prechynge. MS. L. Fo "appertly" the Douce MS. has "apt in herre."] These ar the branches full bittur, ther-of be thou bold,

Makes mony byrne full boune, to breke Goddus bidding, Quo his bidding brekes, bare is of blis; But if thay saluen hom of ther sare, Certis or thay hethun fare, Thay knaue of mekil care, ȝè Waynore, i-wis!"

XX.

"Now wis me," quod Waynor, "gif that thou wost, Quat bedus that myȝte best vs to blis bring?" Ho sayd, "Mesure and mekenes, that is the most, Haue petè of the pore, that plesus the kinge; Sethyn charitè is chefe to those that wyn be chast, Almesdede, that is aure alle other thingus. These ar the gracius giftus of the Holi Gost. That enspires iche sprete, with-oute spilling, Off this spiritualltè speke we no more; Quyll thou art quene in thi quarte, Hald these wurdus in thi herte, For thou mun lyf butte a starte, And hethun schalle thou fare." [A Fytte.]

XXI.

"HOW schalle we fare," quod Gauan, "that foundus to these fiȝtus, And defoules these folk, in fele kyngus londus; Riche remus orerennus, agaynes the ryȝtus, Wynnes wurschip, and wele, throghe wyȝtenes of hondus?" Scho sayd, "Yaure king is to couetus, and his kene knyȝtus, Ther may no strenȝthe him stir, quen the quele stondus; Quen he is in his magestè, most in his myȝtus, Then schalle he liȝte fulle lau, bi the see sondus. Thus ȝour chiualreis kynge, chefe schalle a chaunse;

Felles fortune in fyȝte, That wundurfulle quele-wryȝte, That lau wille lordis gere liȝte, Take wittenesse be Fraunse!

XXII.

For Fraunse haue ȝe frely with ȝaure fiȝte wonnen, Frol, and his Farnet, ful fery haue ȝe leuyt; [XXII. 2. The Frolo, and the Farnaghe, es frely by-leuede. MS. L. Freol and his folke, fey ar they leued. MS. D.] Bretan, and Burgoyn, is bothe in ȝour bandum; And alle the Duseperis of Fraunse with ȝour dyn deuyt. Now may Gian grete, that euyr hit was begonun, Ther is noȝte lede on leue, in that lond leuet. ȝette schalle the riche Romans be with ȝou aure-runnun, And atte the Rountabulle, the rentus schalle be reuet, Hit schalle be tynte, as I troue, and timburt with tene. Gete thè wele, Sir Gauan, Turne thè to Tuscan, Or lese schalle ȝe Bretan, Thruȝe a knyȝte kene!

XXIII.

A knyȝte schalle kenely croyse the croune, And at Carlit be crounet for king, [XXIII. 2. Carelyon. MS. L. Carlele. MS. D.] That segge schalle ensese him, atte a session; Mykille barette, and bale, to Bretan schalle bring; ȝe schalle be told in Tuskan, of that tresun, And be turnut a-gaynne with that tithing; Ther schalle the Rountabulle lese the renowun, Be-syde Ramsay the riche, atte a ryding; In Desesde schalle dee the duȝty of alle. [9. And at Dorsett. MS. L.]

Gete thè wele, Syr Gauan, The baldest of Bretan! For in a slac thou schalle be slayn, Seche ferlès schyn falle!

XXIV.

Seche ferlès schalle [falle] with-outen any fabull, Opon Corneuayle cost, with knyȝtus fulle kene; Ther Arthore auenant, onest, and abulle, Schalle be woundut, i-wis, wothelik I-wene; Alle the rialle route of the Rountabulle Thay schalle dee that day, tho duȝti be-dene! Sussprisut with a subiecte, that bere schalle of sabulle, With a sauter engralet, of siluer so schene; He berus hit of sabulle, quo sotheli wille saye; In Kyng Arther's halle, The child playes atte the balle, That outray schalle ȝo alle, Derfly that daye!

XXV.

Ho sayd, "Haue gode day, Syr Gauan, and Gaynour the gode! I have no lengur tyme ȝo tithinges to telle, For I mun walke on my way, throȝe-oute ȝondur wud, For in my wunnyng place is wo for to welle. For him that ryȝtewis rest, and rose on the rode, Thenke quat dounger, and dele, that I inne duelle; Funde to grete my saule with sum of thi gode, And myn me with massus, and matyns i-mele. For massus ar medesins for us in bales bides; Vs thing a masse als squete, As any spyce that euyr thou ete."— Thus with a grysliche grete, The gost a-way glidus.

XXVI.

Noue with a griseliche grete, the gost away glidus, And a sore gronyng, with a grym bere; The wynd and the welkyn, the wethur in that tide, The cloude vnclosut, the sune wex clere. The kynge his bugul con blau, opon the bent bides, His fayre folke on the fuilde, they flocken in fere, And alle the rial route to the quene ridus; Meles to hur mildely, opon thayre manere; Tho wees of the wederinges forwondret thay were; Princys, pruddust in palle, Gay Gaynoure and alle, Thay wente to Rondalle-sete halle, Vn-to thayre sopere.

XXVII.

Quen he to sopere was sette, and seruut in his sale, Vndur a seler of sylke, with dayntethis diȝte; With alle welthis to wille, and wynus to wale, Briddes bacun in bred, on brent gold bryȝte, So come in a seteler, with a symbale, A lufsum lady ledand a knyȝte; Ridus to the he dese, be-fore the rialle, And hailsutte King Arthore hindely on heȝte; Sayd to the soueran, wlonkest in wede, "Thou mon, makeles of myȝt, This is a nayre, and a knyȝt, Thou do him resun and ryȝte, For thi mon-hed."

XXVIII.

Monli in his mantille he sate atte his mete, With palle puret in poon, was prudliche piȝte, Trowlt with trulufes and tranest be-tuene,

The tassellus were of topeus, that was ther-to tiȝte; He glysset up with his ene, that gray were and grete, With his beueren berd, opon the birne bryȝte; He was the semelist soueran on sittand in his sete, That euyr segge hade soȝte, or seen him syȝte. Thenne oure comeliche King carpus hur tille, And sayd, "Thou wurlych wiȝt, Liȝte, and leng alle nyȝt, Quethun is that ayre and that knyȝt, And hit were thi wille?"

XXIX.

Ho wos the wurliche wiȝte, that any wee wold; Hir gide that was glorius, was of a gresse-grene; Her belte was of blenket, with briddus ful bold, Beten with besandus, and bocult ful bene: Her fax in fyne perrè, was frettut and fold, Her countur-felit and hur kelle were colurt ful clene, With a croune cumly, was clure to be-hold; Hur kerchefes were curiouse, with mony a proud prene; Hur enparel was a-praysut, with princes of myȝte; Bryȝte birdus and bold, Hade i-nuȝhe to be-hold, Of that freli to fold, And the kene knyȝte.

XXX.

Than the knyȝte in his colurs was armit ful clene, With a crest comely, was clure to be-hold, His brene, and his basnet was busket ful bene, With a bordur a-boute, alle of brent gold: His mayles were mylke quyte, enclawet full clene, His stede trapput with that ilke, os true men me told; With a schild on his shildur, of siluer so schene,

With bore-hedis of blakke, and brees full bold; His stede with sandelle of Trise was trapput to the hele. Opon his cheueronne be-forn, Stode as a vnicorn, Als scharpe as a thorn, An nanlas of stele.

XXXI.

In stele was he stuffut, that sterne on his stede, With his sternes of gold, stanseld on stray; His gloues and his gamesuns gloet as the gledes, A-rayet aure with rebans, rychist of raye; With his schene schinbandes, scharpest in schredus. His polans with his pelidoddes were poudert to pay, Thus launce opon lofte that louely he ledus; A fauyn on a fresun him folut, in fay, The freson was afrayet, and ferd of that fare; For he was syldun wunte to se A tablet flourrè; Seche game, and siche glee, Seȝhe he neuyr are.

XXXII.

Then the king carput him tille, on hereand hom alle, "Qwethun art thou, wurliche we, and hit were thi wille? Tell me quethun thou come, and quethir thou schalle, Quy thou stedis in that stid, and stondus so stille?" Then he auaylet vppe his viserne fro his ventalle, With a knyȝteliche countenaunse, he carpes him tille; Sayd, "Quethir thou be Cayselle or Kyng, here I thè be-calle, For to fynde me a freke to feȝte on my fille; For feȝting thus am I fraest and foundut fro home." Then speke the kynge opon heȝte, Sayd, "Liȝte, and leng alle nyȝte; As thou art curtase knyȝte, Thou telle me thi name."

XXXIII.

He sayd, "My nome is Syr Galrun, with-outen any gile, The grattus of Galway, of greuys and of gillus; Of Carrake, of Cummake, of Conyngame, of Kile, Of Lonwik, of Lannax, of Laudoune hillus; That thou hase wonun on werre with thi wrang wiles, Gifhen hom to Syr Gauan, that my hert grillus; Ȝette schalle thou wring thi hondus, and wary thè quiles, Or any we schild hom weld, atte my unnewilles; Atte my unnewilles, i-wis, he schalle hom neuyr weld. Qwil I the hed may bere, With schild and with scharpe spere, Butte he may wynne hom on were, Opon a fayre fylde.

XXXIV.

For in a fyld wille I feȝte, ther-to I make faythe, With any freke opon fuld, that is fre born; To lose suche a lordschip, me wold thinke laythe, And iche ledè, opon lyue, wold laghe me to scorne." "ȝe, we ar in wudlond," cothe the king, "and walkes on owre wayth, For to hunte atte the herd, with houunde and with horne; Gyf thou be gome gladdest, now haue we no graythe, ȝet may thou be machet be mydday to morne; For-thi I rede, rathe mon, thou rest thè all nyȝte." Thenne Gauan, graythest of alle, Lad him furthe thruȝhe the halle, Vn-tylle a pauelun of palle Was prudlyche i-pyȝte.

XXXV.

Hit was prudlyche y-piȝte, of purpure and palle, With beddus brauderit o brode, and bankers y-dyȝte;

Ther-inne was a schapelle, a chambur, and a halle, A schimnay of charcole, to chaufen the knyȝte. Thay halen vppe his stede, had him to stalle, Hay hely thay hade in haches vn-hiȝte; [XXXV. 6 One hyghte. MS. L.] Prayd vp with a burd, and clothes couthe calle, With salers and sanapus, thay serue the knyȝte, With troches and broches and stondartis bi-twene; For to serue the knyȝte, And the wurliche wiȝte, With ryche dayntethis dyȝte, In syluyr so schene.

XXXVI.

Thus in siluyr so schene, thay serue of the best, With vernage, and verrès, in coupus ful clene; [XXXVI. 2 In verrys and cowppys. MSS. L. and D.] With lucius drinkes, and metis of the best, Ryche dayntès en-doret, in dysshes bi-dene. As tyde as that rialle was rayket to his rest, The kinge callut his councelle, the doȝti be-dene, And bede, "Vmloke ȝo, lordinges, oure lose be notte lost, Quo schalle countur with ȝondur knyȝte, cast ȝo bi-tuene." Thenne sayd Syr Gauan, "Hit schalle vs noȝte greue; I wille countur with the knyȝte, For to maynteine my ryȝte, Ther-to my trothe y thè plyȝte, ȝe, Lord, with thi leve."

XXXVII.

"I leue wele," quod the kinge, "thi lates ar lyȝte, But I wold notte for no lordschip se thi life lorne;" "Lette go," cothe Sir Gauan, "God stond with the ryȝte! For and he scapette scatheles, hit were a gret scorne."

And in the dayng of day ther doȝty were dyȝte, Herd matyns [and] mas, myldelik on morun; In myd Plumtun Lone, hor paueluns were piȝte, Quere neuyr frekes opon fulde hade foȝtun be forne. Thay sette listes on lenthe, olong on the lawnde; Thre soppus of demayn, Wos broȝte to Sir Gauan, For to cumford his brayne, The king gart cummaunde.

XXXVIII.

The kinge commawundet kindeli the Erle of Kente, [XXXVIII. 1. Krudely, the erles sonne of Kent. MS. D.] For his meculle curtasy, to kepe the tother knyȝte; And made him with dayntethis to dine in his tente, And sythun this rialle men a-rayut hom o-ryȝte. And aftur Quene Waynor warly thay wente, And be-leues in hur warde, that wurlyche wiȝte; Sethin the hathels in hie, hor horses haue hente, In mydde the lyste of the lawunde, the lordus doune liȝte: Alle butte the stithest, in steroppus that stode; King Arther schayer was sette, O-boue in his chaselette, And thenne Dame Gaynour grette, For Gauan the gode. [A Fitte.]

XXXIX. [XXXIX. This stanza is given from the Douce MS.]

[GAWAYNE and Galleronne gurdenne here stedis, Alle in gleterande golde, gaye was here gere; The lordes be-lyfe hom to list ledis, Withe many seriant of mace, as was the manere. The burnes broched the blonkes, that the side bledis;

Aythire freke apponne fold has fastned his spere; Schaftis in shide wode thay shindre in schides; So jolyly thes gentille justede one were! Schaftis thay shindr, in sheldes so schene; And sithenne with brandes bryghte, Riche mayles thay righte; There encontres the knyghte With Gawayne, one grene.]

XL.

Thenne Syr Gauan the gode was graythet in grene, With his griffuns of gold engrelet fulle gay, Trowlt with trulofes, and tranest be-twene; Opon a startand stede he strikes oute of stray. The tother in his turnyng, he talkes tille him in tene, And sayd, "Querto draues thou so dreȝghe, and mace suche deray?" He sqwapputte him in at the squyre, with a squrd kene, That greuut Syr Gauan euer tille his dethe day. The dyntus of that duȝty were douteouse be-dene; Syxti maylis and moe, The squrd squappes in toe, His canel-bone allsoe, And cleuet his schild clene.

XLI.

He keruet of the cantel, that couurt the knyȝte, Thro his shild and his shildur, a schaft-mun he share; Then the latelest lord loghe opon heȝte, And Gauan grechut ther with, and greuut wundur sore: Sayd, "he shuld rewarde thè this route, and I con rede o ryȝte." He foundes into the freke with a fresche fare; Throȝt basynet and breny, that burnyschet wos bryȝte, With a bytand brand euyn throghet he him bare; He bare thruȝe his brenys, that burneyst were bryȝte.

Then gloppunt that gaye, Hit was no ferly, in faye, His stedes startun on straye, With steroppus fulle stryȝte.

XLII.

Thenne with steroppus fulle streȝte, stifly he strikes, Waynes atte Sir Wawane, ryȝte as he were wode; Thenne his lemmon on lofte scrilles and scrykes, Quenne the balefulle birde blenked on his blode. Other lordus and ladès, thayre laykes welle likes, Thonked God of his grace, for Gawan the gode. With a squappe of his squrde, squeturly him strykes, Smote of Gauan stede heued, in styd quere he stode; The fayre fole foundret, and felle bi the rode; Gauan was smyther and smerte, Owte of his steroppus he sterte, As he that was of herte, Fro Greselle the gode.

XLIII.

"Greselle," quod Gauan, "gone is, God ote! He wos the burlokke[st] blonke, ther euyr bote brede! By him that inne Bedelem wasse borne for oure bote, I schalle reuenge thè to day, and I con ryȝt rede." "Foche thè my fresun," quod the freke, "is fayrest on fote, He wulle stond thè in stoure, in-toe so mycul styd."— "No more for thi fresun, then for a rysche rote, Butte for dylle of a dowmbe best, that thus schuld be ded; I mowrne for no matyttory, for I may gete more." [XLIII. 9. I mourne for no monture. MSS. L. and D.] And as he stode bi his stede, That was gud in iche nede, Neȝtehond Syr Wauan wold wede, So wepputte he fulle sore.

XLIV.

Sore wepput for woe, Syr Wauan the wiȝte, Bouun to his enmy, that woundut was sore; The tother droȝghe him o-dreghe, for drede of the knyȝte, Then he brochet his blonke, opon the bente bare. "Thus may we dryue furthe the day," quod Gauan, "to the dirke nyȝte, The sun is past the merke of mydday and more," In myddes the lyist on the lawunde, this lordes doun lyȝte; A-gayn the byrne with his brand, he busket him ȝare: Thus to batelle thay boune with brandis so bryȝte; Shene schildus thay shrede, Welle ryche mayles wexun rede, And mony duȝty hadun drede, So fursely thai foȝtun.

XLV.

Thus on fote con thai feȝte, opon the fayre fildus, As fresch as ij lions, that fawtutte the fille: Witturly ther weys, thayre weppuns thay weld; Wete ȝe wele, Sir Wauan, him wontut no wille, He berus to him with his brand, vndur his brode shild, Thro the wast of the body wowundet him ille; The squrd styntet for no stuffe, he was so wele stelet, The tother startes on bakke, and stondus stone stille; If he were stonit in that stounde, ȝette strykes he sore; He girdus to Syr Gauane, Throȝhe ventaylle and pusane, That him lakket no more to be slayne, Butte the brede of hore.

XLVI.

And thus the hardy on heyte, on helmis thai heuen, Betun downe berels, in bordurs so bryȝte,

That with stones iraille were strencult and strauen, Frettut with fyne gold, that failis in the fiȝte. With schildus on ther schildurs, schomely thay shewen, Stythe stapuls of stele, thay striken doune streȝte. Thenne byernes bannes the tyme, the bargan was bruen, That evyr these duȝti with dyntus, so dulfuly were diȝte. Hit hurte King Arther in herte, and mengit his mode; Bothe Sir Lote, and Sir Lake, Meculle menyng con make; Thenne Dame Gaynor grette for his sake, For Gawan the gode!

XLVII.

Thenne grette Dame Gaynour, with hur gray een, For grefe of Sir Gauan grimliche wouundes; Thenne the knyȝte, that was curtase, cruail, and kene, With a stelun brand, he strikes in that stounde; Alle the cost of the knyȝte, he keruys doune clene, Thro the riche mayles, that ronke were and rouunde; Suche a touche in that tyde, he taȝte hym in tene, And gurdes me Sir Gallerun, euyn grouelonges on grounde. Alle grouelonges in grounde, gronet on grene, Als wowundut as he wasse, Wundur rudely he rose, Fast he foundes atte his face, With a squrd kene.

XLVIII.

Thus that cruelle and kene, kerues on heȝte, With a cast of the carhonde, in a cantelle he strikes; [XLVIII. 2. With a caste of the care, in kantelle he strikes. MS. L. The other MS. for caste reads scas.] þorne waitis with woe, Sir Wauan the wiȝte,

Butte ȝette him limpus the wurs, and that me wele likes. He wend with a slyuyng, hade slayn him with slyȝt, The squrd slippus on slonte, and on the mayle slikes, Thenne Sir Gauan bi the coler, clechis the knyȝte, Thenne his lemmon on lofte, ho scrilles and scrikes, And sayd to Dame Gaynour, with grones full grille, "Thou Ladè, makelest of myȝte! Haue pety of ȝondur nobulle knyȝte, That is so dilfully dyȝte, And hit were thi wille."

XLIX.

Thenne wilfulle Waynour to the king wente, Keȝte of hur curonalle, and knelit him tille; Sayd, "As thou art ray richist, and rialle in rente, And I thi wedut wife, atte thi none wille; ȝondur byrnes in batelle, that bidus on the bent, Thay ar werè i-wisse, and woundut fulle ille; Throȝghe schildus, and shildurs, schomfully shente; The grones of Sir Gauan, hit dose my hert grille, The gronus of Sir Gauan the gode, hit greuis me sore: Wold ȝe, luflyche Lord! Make ȝondur knyȝtes at a-cord, Hit were a grete cumford, For alle that ther ware."

L.

But thenne speke Sir Galrun to Gawan the gode, "I wende neuyr we ȝette, hade bene so wiȝte;" And sayd, "Here I make thè relesche, rengthe, bi the rode! Before this rialle route resigne thè my riȝte: And sithin I make thè monraden, mildist of mode, As mon on this mydlert that most is of myȝte." He stalket touward the king, in stid quere he stode,

And bede the burlyche his brand, that burneschit was briȝt; And sayd, "Of rentis and of richas, I make thè relesche." Doune knelis the knyȝte, And speke these wurdis opon hiȝte; The king stode vppe ryȝte, And cummawundut pese.

LI.

The king cummawundut pese, and stode vp-ryȝte, And Gauan godely he sesutt for his sake; And then these lordus so lele, thai lepe vp liȝte, Huaya Fus-uryayn, and Arrake Fy-lake, [LI. 4

Sir Owayne fytz-Vryene, and Arrake full rathe Marrake and Menegalle. MS. L.

Ewaynne fiz-Erian and Arrake fiz-Lake Sir Drurelat and Moylard. MS. D.

] Sir Meliaduke the Marrake, that mekille wasse of myȝte, These ij traueling men, truly vppe thay take. Vnnethe myȝte these sturun men stond vppe ryȝte, So for-brissutte, and for-bled, thayre blees were so blake; Alle blake was thayre blees, for-betun with brandis. With-outun any hersing, There diȝte was thayre saȝtenyng, Be-fore the comeliche king, Thay heldun vppe thayre hondus.

LII.

"Now here I gife thè," quod the king, "Gauan the bold! Glawmorgan londus, with greuys fulle grene; The wurschip of Wales, to weld and thou wold, Kirfre Castelle with colurs ful clene; [LII. 4. Griffon's Castelle. MSS. L. and D.] Iche Hulkershome, to haue and to hold, [5. The Hustershaulle. MSS. L. and D.]

Wayifforthe and Waturforthe, wallet, I wene; Toe baroners in Bretan, with burgesse fulle bold, That is batelt aboute, and biggutte fulle bene. Here I doue thè as Duke, and dub the with my hondus; With thi, thou saȝtun with ȝondur knyȝte, That is so hardi and so wiȝte, And resingne him thi ryȝte, And graunte him his londus."

LIII.

"Nowe here I gif thè, Galrun," quod Gauan, "with-outyn any gile Alle the londus for-sothe fro Logher to Layre; Carrake, Cummake, Conyngame and Kile, [That if he of cheualry, chalange ham for aire The Lother, the Lemmok, the Loynak, the Lile,] Sir, to thi seluun, and sithun to thine ayre, With thi, tille oure lordschip, thou leng in a qwile, And to the Roundtabulle to make thi repare; Here I feffe thè in fild, frely and fayre." Bothe the king and the quene, And other duȝti bi-dene; Throȝghe owte the greuis so grene To Carlille thay kayrit.

LIV.

[The kyng to Carlele es comen, with knyghttis so kene,] Throghe greuis so grene, held the Rountabulle with rialle aray; These wees that were wothely woundet, I wene, Thenne surgens hom sauyt, quo sotheli wynne say; Cumfordun hom kindely, the king and the quene, And sithin dubbut hom Dukes, bothe on a day, And thenne he weddutte his wife, wlonkest I wene, With giftus, and with gersums, Sire Galrun the gay.

Thus Gauan and Galrun, gode frindes ar thay; Qwen thay were holle and sownde; Thay made Galrun in that stounde, A knyȝte of the Tabulle Rounde, Vntille his ending day.

LV.

Thenne gerut Dame Waynour to write into the west, To alle the religeus, to rede and to sing; Prustes, prouincials, to pray were fulle preste, With a meliun of massus, her modur mynnyng. Boke-lornut byrnus, and bischoppus of the beste, Thro-oute Bretan so bold, these bellus con ring. And this ferli be-felle in Ingulwud forest, Be-side holtus so hore, at a hunting: Suche a hunting in a holt, aw noȝte to be hidde, These knyȝtus, stalwurthe, and store, Throȝhe the forest thay fore, In the tyme of King Arthore This anter be-tidde.

FINIS.

SIR AMADACE.

I.

Thenne the knyȝt and the stuard fre, Thay casten there houe hit best myȝte be Bothe be ferre and nere; The stuard sayd, "Sir, ȝe awe wele more, Thenne ȝe may of ȝour londus rere, In faythe this seuyn ȝere: Quo so may best, furste ȝe mun pray, A-byde ȝo tille a-nothir day; And parte ȝour cowrte in sere; And putte away fulle mony of ȝour men, And hald butte on, quere ȝe hald ten, Thaȝghe thay be neuyr so dere."

II.

Thenne Sir Amadace sayd, "I myȝte lung spare, Or alle these godus qwitte ware, And haue noȝte to spend; Sithun duelle here, quere I was borne, Bothe in hething and in scorne, And I am so wele kennit: And men fulle fast wold warè me, That of thayre godus hade bynne so fre, That I haue hade in honde;

Or I schuld hold men in awe or threte, That thay myȝte noȝte hor awne gud gete, Thenne made I a fulle fowle ende!

III.

Butte a-nothir rede I wulle me toe, Wurche a-nothir way then soe, Bettur sayd soro thenne sene! Butte, gode stuard, as thou art me lefe, Lette neuyr mon wete my grete mischefe, Butte hele hit vs be-twene. For seuyn ȝere wedsette my lond, To the godus that I am awand, Be quytte holly bi-dene: For oute of the cuntray I wille weynde, Quil I haue gold, siluyr to spende, And be owte of dette fulle clene.

IV.

ȝette wulle I furst, or I fare, Be wele more rialle then I was are, Therfore ordan thou schalle; For I wulle gif fulle ryche giftus, Bothe to squiers and to knyȝtis; To pore men, dele a dole: Suche mon myȝte wete, that I were wo, That fulle fayn, wold hit were suche toe, That myȝte notte bete my bale! So curtase a mon was neuyr non borne, That schuld scape with oute a scorne, Be iche mon had told his tale."

V.

Thanne Sir Amadase, as I ȝo say, Hase ordanut him opon [a] day,

Of the cuntray in a stowunde; ȝette he gafe ful riche giftus, Bothe to squiers, and to knyȝtis, Stedus, haukes and howundes. Sethun afturward, as I ȝo say, Hase ordanut him opon [a] day, And furthe thenne conne he founde; Be that he toke his leue to wynde, He lafte no more in his cofurs to spende, But euyn xl. powunde.

VI.

Thenne Sir Amadace, as I ȝo say, Rode furthe opon his way, Als fast as euyr he myȝte; Thro owte a forest, by one citè, Ther stode a chapelle of stone and tre, And ther-inne se he a liȝte. Commawundut his knaue for to fare, To wete quat liȝte, that were thare, And tithing bring me ryȝte; The knaue did, as his maister him bade, Butte suche a stinke in the chapelle he hade, That dwelle ther he ne myȝte.

VII.

He stopput his nase with his hude, Nerre the chapelle dur he ȝode, Anturs for to lere; And as he loket in atte the glasse, To wete quat meruail that ther wasse, So see he stonde a bere. Candils ther were brennyng toe, A woman sittyng, and no moe, Lord! carefulle wasse hur chere;

Tithinges there conne he non frayn, Butte to his lord he wente a-gayn, Told him quat he see thare.

VIII.

And sayd, "Sir, atte ȝondur chapelle haue I bene, A selcothe siȝte ther haue I sene, My herte is heuy as lede; Ther stondus a bere, and canduls toe, Ther sittus a woman, and no moe, Lord! carefulle is hur rede. Seche a stinke as I had thare, Sertis thenne had I neuyr are, No quere in no stid; For this palfray, that I on ryde, Ther myȝte I no lengur abide, I traue I haue keȝte my dede."

IX.

Thenne Sir Amace commawundut his squier to fare, To witte quat woman that there ware, And tithinges bring thou me; As he loket in atte the walle, As the knaue sayd, he fund with-alle, Him thoȝte hit grete petè: Butte in his nace smote suche a smelle, That there myȝte he no lengur duelle, But sone a-gayn gose he; He sayd, "Gud Lord, now with ȝour leue, I pray ȝo take hit noȝte on greue, For ȝe may notte wete for me."

X.

He sayd, "Sir, ther stondus a bere, and candils toe, A woman sittyng, and no moe,

Lord! carefulle is hur chere; Sore ho sikes, and hondus wringus, And euyr ho crius on heuyn kynges, How lung ho schalle be thare! Ho says, Dere God, quat may that be, The grete soro, that ho opon him se, Stingcand opon his bere! Ho says, ho wille notte leue him alleone, Till ho falle dede downe to the stone, For his life was hur fulle dere."

XI.

Thenne Sir Amadace smote his palfray with his spur, And rode vn-to the chapelle dur, And hastelè doune he liȝte; As his mennè sayd, so con him thinke, That he neuyr are hade suche a stynke, And inne thenne wente that knyȝte. He sayd, "Dame, God rest with thè!" Ho sayd, "Sir, welcum most ȝe be!" A[nd] salit him anon ryȝte; He sayd, "Dame, quy sittus thou here, Kepand this dede cors opon this bere, Thus onyli vpon a nyȝte?"

XII.

Ho sayd, "Sir, nedelonges most I sitte him by, Hi-fath, ther wille him non mon butte I, For he wasse my wedutte fere." Thenne Sir Amadace sayd, "Me likes full ille, ȝe ar bothe in plyit to spille, He lise so lung on bere. Quat a mon in his lyue wasse he?"

"Sir, a marchand of this citè, Hade riche rentus to rere; And euiryche ȝere thre hundrythe pownde, Of redy monay and of rowunde, And for dette ȝette lise he here."

XIII.

Thenne Sir Amadace sayd, "For the rode, On quat maner spendutte he his gud, That thusgate is a-way?" "Sir, on gentilmen and officers, On grete lordus, that was his perus, Wold giffe hom giftus gay; Riche festus wold he make, And pore men, for Goddus sake, He fed hom euyriche day: Quil he hade any gud to take, He wernut no mon, for Goddus sake, That wolnotte onus say nay.

XIV.

ȝette he didde as a fole, He cladde mo men a-gaynus a ȝole, Thenne did a nobulle knyȝte; For his mete he wold not spare, Burdes in the halle were neuyr bare, With clothes richeli diȝte, Giffe I sayd he did noȝte wele, He sayd, God send hit eueryche dele, And sette my wurdus atte liȝte; Bi thenne he toke so mycul opon his name, That I dar notte telle ȝo, lord, for schame, The godus now that he aȝte.

XV.

And thenne come dethe, wo hym be! And partutt my lord and me, Lafte me in alle the care; Quen my neȝteburs herd telle, that he seke lay, Thay come to me, as thay best may, Thair gud aschet thai thare: Alle that euyr was his and myne, Hors and naute, shepe and sqwyne, A-way thay drafe and bare; My dowary to my lyue I sold, And alle the peneys to hom told, Lord! ȝette aȝte he wele mare.

XVI.

Quen I hade quytte alle that I myȝte gete, ȝette aȝte he thritte powunde bi grete, Holly tille a stydde; Tille a marchand of this citè, Was fer oute in a-nothir cuntre, Come home quen he was dede. And quenne he herd telle of my febulle fare, He come to me as breme as bare, This corse the erthe forbede; And sayd, howundus schuld his bodi to-draw, Then on the fild his bonus to-gnaue,— Thus carefulle is my rede.

XVII.

And this xvi. weke I haue setyn here, Kepand this dede cors opon this bere, With candils brennand bryȝte; And so schalle I euyr more do, Till dethe cum, and take me to,

Bi Mary, most of myȝte!" Thenne Sir Amadace franut hur the marchandes name, That hade done hur alle that schame, Ho told him a-non ryȝte; He sayd, "God, that is bote of alle bale, Dame, cumford thè, and so he schale, And, Dame, haue thou gud nyȝte!" [A Fitte.]

XVIII.

THENNE Sir Amadace on his palfray lepe, Vnnethe he myȝte forgoe to wepe, For his dedus him sore for-thoȝte; Sayd, "ȝondur mon, that lise ȝondur chapelle with-inne, He myȝte fulle wele be of my kynne, For ryȝte so haue I wroȝte!" Thenne he told his sometour quat the marchand heȝt, And sayd, "[I] wille sowpe with him to-nyȝte, Be God, that me dere boȝte! Go, loke thou diȝte oure soper syne, Gode ryalle metis and fyne, And spicis thenne spare thou noȝte."

XIX.

And sone quen the sometour herd, To the marchandus howse he ferd, And ordanut for that knyȝte; Thenne Sir Amadace come riding thoe, But in his hert was him fulle woe, And hasteli dowun he liȝte. Sithun in-tylle a chambur the knyȝte ȝede, And kest opon him othir wede, With torches brennyng bryȝte; He cummawundutte his squier for to goe,

To pray the marchand and his wife allsoe, To soupe with him that nyȝte.

XX.

Thenne the squier weyndut vpon his way, And to the marchand conne he say, His ernde told he thenne; He squere, "Be Jhesu, Marè sone! Thi lordus wille hit schalle be done, Of cumford was that man. Thenne thayre soper was nere diȝte, Burdes were houyn hee on hiȝte, [The] marchand [the] dees be-gan; Sir Amadace sate, and made gud chere, Butte on the dede cors, that lay on bere, Ful myculle his thoȝte was on!

XXI.

Sir Amadace sayd, "To nyȝte, as I come bi the strete, I see a siȝte I thenke on ȝete, That sittus me nowe fulle sore; In a chapelle, be-side a way, A dede cors opon a bere lay, A womon alle mysfare." "ȝe," the Marchand sayd, "God gif him a sore grace, And alle suche waisters as he wasse, For he sittus me nowe sare; For he lise there with my thritti powunde, Of redy monay and of rowunde, Of hitte gete I neuyr more."

XXII.

Thenne Sir Amadace sayd, "Take thè tille a bettur rede, Thenke that Gode for-gaue his dede, Grette merit thou may haue;

Thenke how God ordant for thè, Bettur grace then euyr had he; Lette the cors go inne his graue." Thenne he squere, "Be Jhesu, Marè sun, That body schalle neuyr in the erthe come, My siluyr tille that I haue; Tille ho be dede as wele as he, That howundus schalle, that I may se, On filde thayre bonus to-gnaue!"

XXIII.

Quen Sir Amadace herd that he hade squorne, He cald his stuard him beforne, Of kyndenesse that knyȝte con kithe; And bede, "Go foche me thritti powunde, Of redy monay and of rowunde, Hastely and be-lyue." The stuard thoȝte hit was a-gaynus skille, Butte he most nede do his maistur wille,— Now listun and ȝe may lithe; Ther Sir Amadace payd him thritti powund of monay fyne, And thenne Sir Amadace asket to wyne, And prayd the Marchand be blythe.

XXIV.

Then Sir Amadace asket, "Awe he thè any mare?" "Nay, Sir," he sayd, "wele most ȝe fare! For thus muche he me aȝte." Thenne Sir Amadace sayd, "As furthe as x. pounde wille take, I schalle lette do for his sake, Querthroȝe he haue his riȝte. I schalle for him gere rede and singe, Bringe his bodi to Cristun berunge, That schalle thou see wythe siȝte;

Go, pray alle the religius of this citè, To morne that thay wold dyne with me, And loke thayre mete be dyȝte."

XXV.

Howe erly quen the day con spring, Then holli alle the bellus con ring, That in the citè was; Religius men euirichon, Toward this dede cors are thay gone, With mony a riche burias. Thritty prustus that day con sing, And thenne Sir Amadace offurt a ring, Atte euyriche mas; Quen the seruise was alle done, He prayd hom to ete with him atte none, Holli more and lasse.

XXVI.

Thenne the marchand wente tille one pillere, Mony a mon droȝhe him nere, To wete quat he wold say; He sayd, "Sirs, there hase byn here, A ded cors opon a bere, ȝe wotte querfore hit lay. And hase comun a fulle rialle knyȝte, Of alle the godes the cors me heȝte, Hase made me redi pay; Vnto his cofurs he hase sente, And geuyn x. powunde to his termente, Wythe riche ringus to day.

XXVII.

Hit is on his nome that I say, He prays ȝo holly to mete to day,

Alle that ther bene here;" Thay did as the marchand bade, Mete and drinke y-nuȝhe thay hade, With licius drinke and clere. And Sir Amadace wold noȝte sitte downe, Butte to serue the pore folke he was fulle bowne, For thay lay his hert nere; And quen thay hade etun with inne that halle, Thenne Sir Amadace toke leue atte alle, Vn-semand with fulle glad chere.

XXVIII.

Quen Sir Amadace hade etun, To sadulle his horse was noȝte forȝetun, Thay broȝte hym his palfray; Thenne his sometour-mon before was dyȝte, Ther as that lord schuld leng alle nyȝte, And hade nothing to pay. Quat wundur were hit, thaȝhe him were wo, Quen alle his godus were spendutte him fro, The sothe gif I schuld say? Thenne Sir Amadace kidde he was gentilman bornne, He come the grattust maystur be-forne, Toke leue, and wente his way.

XXIX.

Quen he was gone on this kin wise, Thenne iche mon sayd thayre deuise, Quen he wasse passutte the ȝate; Sum sayd, "This gud fulle liȝteli he wan, That thusgate spendutte hit on this man, So liȝtely lete hit scape." Sum sayd, "In gud tyme were he borne, That hade a peny him bi-forne, That knew fulle litulle his state."

Lo, how thay demun the gentille knyȝte, Quen he hade spendut alle that he myȝte! Butte the trauthe fulle litulle thay wote.

XXX.

Quen he come sex mile the citè fro, A crosse partut the way a-toe, Thenne speke Sir Amadace: To his stuard he sayd fulle rathe, His sometour and his palfray-mon bothe, And alle ther euyr was, Sayd, "Gode Sirs, take noȝte on greue, For ȝe most noue take ȝour leue, For ȝoure seluun knauyn the cace; For I may lede no mon in londe, Butte I hade gold [and] siluyr to spende, Neuyr no quere in no place."

XXXI.

Now the hardust hertut men that there ware, For to wepe thai myȝt notte spare, Quen thay herd him say so; He sayd, "Gode Sirs, haue ȝe no care, For ȝe mone haue maysturs euyrqware, As wele wurthi ȝe ar soe: ȝette God may me sende of his sele, That I may keuyr of this fulle wele, And cum owte of this wo; A mery mon ȝette may ȝe se me, And be fulle dere welcum to me, Bothe ȝe and mony moe!"

XXXII. [St. XXXII. From Weber's edition.]

[Sir Amadas seyd in that stonde; "The warst hors is worthe ten pownde,

Of hom all that here gon; Sqwyar, yomon, and knave, Ylke mon his owne schall have, That he syttes apon, Sadyll, brydyll, and oder geyre, Fowre so gud thoffe hit were, I woch hit save, bi Sen Jon! God mey make yo full gud men! Cryst of hevon, Y yo beken!" Thei weped, and partyd ylke on.]

XXXIII.

Quen alle his men wos partutte him fro, The knyȝte lafte stille in alle the woe, Bi him seluun allone, Throȝhe the forest his way lay riȝte, Of his palfray doune he liȝte, Mournand and made grete mone, Quen he thoȝte on his londus brode, His castels hee, his townus made, That were a-way euyrichon; That he had sette, and layd to wedde, And was owte of the cuntray for pourtè fledde, Thenne the knyȝte wexe wille of wone.

XXXIV.

Thenne be-speke Sir Amadace, "A mon that litul gode hase, Men sittus ryȝte noȝte him bye; For I hade thre hundrythe powunde of rente, I spendut two in that entente. Of suche forloke was I! Euyr quylle I suche housold hold, For a grete lord was I tellut,

Muche holdun vppe thare-by; Nowe may wise men sitte atte home, Quen folus may walke full wille of wone, And, Crist wotte, so may hi!

XXXV.

He sayd, "Jhesu, as thou deet on the rode, And for me sched thi precius blode, And alle this word thou wanne; Thou lette me neuyr come in that syȝte, Ther I haue bene knauen for a knyȝte, Butte if I may avoue hit thanne; And gif me grace to somun alle tho, That wilsumly ar wente me fro, And alle that me gode ons hase done; Or ellus, Lord, I aske thè rede, Hastely that I were dede, Lord, wele were me thanne!

XXXVI.

"For alle for wonting of my witte, Fowle of the lond am I putte, Of my frindes I haue made foes; For kyndenes of my gud wille, I am in poynte my selfe to spille;" Thus flote Syr Amadace. He sayd, "Jhesu, as thou deut on tre, Summe of thi sokur send thou me, Spedely in this place! For summe of thi sokur and thou me send, And ȝett I schuld ful gladely spende, On alle that mestur hase."

XXXVII.

Now thro the forest as he ferd, He wende that no mon hade him herd, For he seȝhe non in siȝte; So come a mon ryding him bye, And speke on him fulle hastely, Ther-of he was a-fryȝte. Milke quyte was his stede, And so was alle his othir wede, Hade conciens of a knyȝte; Now thoȝhe Sir Amadace wasse in mournyng broȝte, His curtasè forȝete he noȝte, He saylut him anon ryȝte.

XXXVIII.

Quod the quite knyȝte, "Quat mon is this, That alle this mowrnyng makes thus, With so simpulle chere?" Thenne Syr Amadace sayd, "Nay!" The quite knyȝte bede "do way, For that quile haue I bene here. Thowe schild noȝte mowrne no suche wise, For God may bothe mon falle and rise, For his helpe is euyr more nere! For gud his butte a lante lone, Sum tyme men [haue] hit, sum tyme none, Thou hast fulle mony a pere!

XXXIX.

"Now thenke on him, that deut on rode, That for vs sched his precius blode, For thè and monkynd alle! For a mon that geuees him to gode thewis, Authir to gentilmen or to schrewis,

On summe side wille hit falle. A mon that hase alle way bynne kynde, Sum curtas mon ȝette may he fynde, That mekille may stonde in stalle; Repente thè noȝte, that thou hase done, For he that schope bothe sunne and mone, Fulle wele may pay for alle!"

XL.

Quod the quite knyȝte, "Wold thou luffe him aure alle thing, That wold thè owte of thi mournyng bringe, And keuyr thè owte of kare? For here be-side duellus a rialle king, And hase a doȝtur fayre and ȝinge, He luffis nothing mare. And thou art one of the semelist knyȝte, That euyr ȝette I see with syȝte, That any armes bare; That mun no mon hur wedde ne weld, Butte he that furst is inne the fild, And best thenne justus thare.

XLI.

"And thou schalt cum thedur als gay Als any erliche mon may, Of thi sute schalle be non; Thou schalle haue for thi giftus geuand, Grete lordus to thi honde, And loke thou spare riȝte none. Thou say the mennè that come with thè, That thay were drounet on the see, With wild waturs slone; Loke that thou be large of feyce, Tille thou haue wonun gode congrece, And I schalle pay ichone."

He sayd, "That thou be fre of wage, And I schalle pay for thi costage, x. thowsand gif thou ladde; Ther schalle thou wynne fulle mekille honowre, Fild and frithe, towne and towre, That lady schalle thou wedde! And sithun I schalle come a-ȝayne to thè, Qwen thou hase come thi frindus to see, In stid quere thou art stadde; Butte a forwart make I with thè or that thou goe, That euyn to part be-twene vs toe, The godus thou hase wonun and spedde."

XLIII.

Thenne be-speke Sir Amadace, "And thou haue myȝte thruȝe Goddus grace, So to cumford to me; Thou schalt fynde me true and lele, And euyn, lord, for to dele, Be-twix thè and me!" "Fare wele," he sayd, "Sir Amadace! And thou schalle wurche thruȝe Goddus grace, And hit schalle be with thè." Sir Amadace sayd, "Haue gode day, And thou schalle fynde me, and I may, Als true as any mon may be!" [A Fitte.]

XLIV.

NOW als Sir Amadace welke bi the se sonde, The broken schippus he ther fonde, Hit were meruayl to say; He fond wrekun a-mung the stones,

Knyȝtes in meneuere for the nones, Stedes quite, and gray. With alle kynne maner of richas, That any mon myȝte deuise, Castun vppe with waturs lay; Kistes and cofurs bothe ther stode, Was fulle of gold precius and gode, No mon bare noȝte a-way!

XLV.

Thenne Sir Amadace he him cladde, And that was in a gold webbe, A bettur myȝte none be; And the stede that he on rode, Wasse the best that euyr mon hade, In iusting for to see. Ther he wanne fulle mecul honoure, Fild and frithe, toune and towre, Castelle and riche citè; Aure that gud he houet fulle ryȝte, That see the king and his doȝtur bryȝte, The iusting furthe schild be.

XLVI.

The kinge sayd to his doȝtur bryȝte, "Lo, ȝond houes a rialle knyȝte!" A messyngere he ches; His aune squier, and knyȝtes thre, And bede, "Go loke, quat ȝone may be, And telle me quo hit is. And his gud hitte schalle be tente, Holly to his cummawundemente, Certan with owtun lesse; Go we to his comyng alle to-gethir,

And say that he is welcum hethir, And he be comun o pese!"

XLVII.

As the messingerus welke bi the see sonde, Thay toke Sir Amadace bi the quite honde, And tithinges conne him fraynne; And sayd, "Oure lord, the king, hase send vs hethir, To wete ȝoure comyng alle to-gethir, And ȝe wold vs sayn. He says, ȝore gud hitte schalle be tente, Holly atte ȝaure commawundemente, Sertan is noȝte to layne; Quat-seuer ȝe wille with the kingus men do, ȝo thar butte commawunde hom ther to, And haue seruandis fulle bayne."

XLVIII.

And Sir Amadace sayd, "I wasse a prinse of mekil pride, And here I hade thoȝte to ryde, For-sothe atte this iournay; I was vetaylet with wyne and flowre, Hors, stedus, and armoure, Knyȝtus of gode a-ray. Stithe stormes me ore-drofe, Mi nobulle schippe hit all to-rofe, Tho sothe ȝoure seluun may say; To spend, I haue enuȝhe plentè, Butte alle the men that come with me, For-sothe, thai bynne away."

XLIX.

Then Sir Amadace, that wasse so stithe on stede, To the castelle ȝates thay conne him lede,

And told the king alle the cace; The king sayd, "Thou art welcum here, I rede thè be of fulle gud chere, Thonke Jhesu of his grace! Seche a storme as thou was inne, That thou myȝte any socur wynne, A fulle fayre happe hit wase! I see neuyr man that sete in sete, So muche of my lufue myȝte gete As thou thi seluun hase."

L.

Thenne the king for Sir Amadace sake, A rialle cri thenne gerutte he make, Thro-oute in that citè; To alle that ther wold seruyse haue, Knyȝte, squiere, ȝoman and knaue, Iche mon in thayre degre. That wold duelle with Sir Amadace, Hade lost his men in a cace, And drownet hom on the se; He wold gif hom toe so muche, or ellus more, As any lord wold euyr or qware, And thay wold with him be.

LI.

Quen gentilmen herd that cry, Thay come to him full hastely, With him for to be; Be then the iusting wase alle cryed, There was no lord ther be-syde, Had halfe as mony men as he. Ther he wanne so myculle honoure,

Fild and frithe, towne and toure, Castelle and riche citè; A hundrithe stedis he wan and moe, And gaue the king the ton halue of thoe, Butte ther othir til his felo keput he.

LII.

Quen the iusting was alle done, To vnarme hom they wente a-none, Hastely and be-lyue; Then sayd the king a-non ryȝte, And bede, "Gromersy, gentulle knyȝte!" Ofte and fele sithe. Then the kingus doȝtur that wasse gente, Vnlasutte the knyȝte, to mete thay wente, Alle were thay gladde and blithe; Quen aythir of othir hade a siȝte, Suche a lufue be-tuene hom liȝte, That partut neuyr thayre lyue.

LIII.

Quen thay hade etun, I vndurstonde, The king toke Sir Amadace bi the quite honde, And to him conne he say; "Sir," he sayd, "with-outun lesse, I haue a doȝtur, that my nayre ho isse, And ho be to ȝaure pay. And ȝe be a mon that wille wedde a wife, I vouche hur safe, be my life, On ȝo that fayre may; Here a gifte schalle I ȝo gife, Halfe my kyndome, quiles I life, Take alle aftur my daye."

LIV.

["Gramarcy," seyd Sir Amadas, And thonkyd the kyng of that grace, Of his gyfftes gudde; Sone after, as y yow sey, To the kyrke yode thei, To wedde that frely fode. Ther was gold gyffon in that stonde, And plenty of syluer, mony a ponde, Be the way as thei yode; And after in hall thei satte all, The lordes and the ladès small That comon wer of gentyll blode.]

LV.

Thus is Sir Amadace keuyrt of his wo, That God lene grace, that we were so! A rialle fest gerut he make; Ther weddut he that lady briȝte, The maungery last a faurtenyȝte, With schaftes for to schake. Othir halfe ȝere thay lifd in gomun, A fayre knaue child hade thay somun, Grete myrthes con thay make. Listuns now, lordinges, of anters grete, Quylle on a day before the mete, This felau come to the ȝate.

LVI.

He come in als gay gere, Ryȝte as he an angelle were, Cladde he was in quite; Vn-to the porter speke he thoe, Sayd, "To thi lord myn ernde thou go,

Hasteli and alstite. And if he frayne oȝte aftur me, For quethun I come, or quat cuntre, Say him my sute is quite; And say we haue to-gethir bene, I hope fulle wele he haue me sene, He wille hitte neuyr denyte."

LVII.

Thenne the porter wente in-to the halle, Alsone his lord he metes with-alle, He sailles him as he conne; Sayd, "Lord, here is comun the fayrist knyȝte, That euyr ȝette I see with syȝte, Sethen I was market mon. Milke quite is his stede, And so is alle his other wede, That he hase opon: He says ȝe haue to-gethir bene, I hope fulle welle ȝe haue him sene, Butte with him is comun no mon."

LVIII.

"Is he comun," he sayd, "my nowun true fere? To me is he bothe lefe and dere, So aghet him wele to be! Butte, alle my men, I ȝo cummawunde, To serue him wele to fote and honde, Ryȝte as ȝe wold do me." Then Sir Amadace a-ȝaynus him wente, And allso did that ladi gente, That was so bryȝte of ble; And did wele that hur aghte to do, Alle that hur lord lufd wurschipput ho, Alle suche wemen wele myȝte be.

LIX.

Quo schuld his stede to stabulle haue? Knyȝte, squier, ȝoman, ne knaue, Nauthir with him he broȝte; Thenne Sir Amadace wold haue takyun his stede, And to the halle him seluun lede, Butte so wold he noȝte. He sayd, "Sertan, the sothe to telle, I wille nauthir ete, drinke, ne duelle, Be God, that me dere boȝte! Butte take and dele hit euun in toe, Gif me my parte, and lette me goe, Gif I be wurthi oȝte!"

LX.

Thenne speke Sir Amadace so fre, "For Goddus luffe, lette suche wurdus be! Thay greuun my herte fulle sore; For we myȝte noȝte this faurtenyȝte, Owre riche londus dele and diȝte, Thay liun so wide quare. Butte lette vs leng to-gethir here, Riȝte as we brethir were, As alle thi none hit ware; And othir gates noȝte part wille wee, Butte att thi wille, Sir, alle schalle bee, Goddes forbote, Sir, thou hit spare!"

LXI.

He sayd, "Broke wele thi londus brode, Thi castels hee, the townus made, Of hom kepe I riȝte none; Allso thi wuddus, thi waturs clere, Thi frithis, thi forestus, fer and nere, Thi ringus with riche stone,

Allso thi siluyr, thi gold rede, For hit may stonde me in no stidde, I squere, bi Sayn John! But, be my faythe, with-outun stryue, Half thi child, and halfe thi wyue, And thay schalle with me gone."

LXII.

"Alas!" sayd Sir Amadace than, "That euyr I this woman wan, Or any wordes gode! For his lufe, that deet on tre, Quat-seuer ȝe wille, do with me, For him that deet on rode! ȝe, take alle that euyr I haue, Wythe thi, that ȝe hur life saue!" Thenne the knyȝte wele vndurstode, And squere, "Be God, that me dere boȝte, Othir of thi thinge then kepe I noȝte, Of alle thi wordes gode!

LXIII.

Butte thenke on thi couenand, that thou made, In the wode, quen thou mestur hade, How fayre thou hettus me thare!" Sir Amadace sayd, "I wotte, hit was soe, But my lady for to sloe, Methinke grete synne hit ware." Then the lady vndurstode a-non, The wurd that was be-twene hom, And greuyt hur neuyr the more; Then ladi sayd, "For his luffe that deut on tre, Loke ȝore couandus holdun be, Goddes forbotte ȝe me spare!"

LXIV.

Thenne be-speke that ladi briȝte, Sayd, "Ye schalle him hold that ȝe haue hiȝte, Be God, and Sayn Driȝtine! For his lufe that deet on tre, Loke ȝaure couandus holdun be, ȝore forward was fulle fyne. Sithun Crist wille that hit be so, Take and parte me euun in toe, Thou wan me and I am thine! Goddus forbotte that ȝe hade wyuut, That I schuld ȝo a lure makette, ȝore wurschip in londe to tyne!"

LXV.

Still ho stode, with-outun lette, Nawthir changet chere, ne grette, That lady myld and dere! Bede, "Foche me my ȝung sun me be-forne, For he was of my bodi borne, And lay my herte fulle nere." "Now," quod the quite knyȝte thare, "Quethur of hom luffus thou mare?" He sayd, "My wife, so dere!" "Sithun thou luffus hur the more, Thou schalt parte hur euyn before, Hur quite sidus in sere."

LXVI.

Thenne quen Sir Amadace see, That no bettur hitte myȝte bee, He ferd as he were wode; Thenne all the menè in that halle, Doune on squonyng ther con thay falle,

Be-fore thayre lord thay stode. The burd was broȝte, that schuld hur on dele, Ho kissutte hur lord sithis fele, And sithun therto ho ȝode; Ho layd hur downe mekely enuȝhe, A clothe then aure hur enyn thay droȝ he, That lady was myld of mode!

LXVII.

Thenne the quite knyȝte, "I wille do thè no vnskille, Thou schalt dele hit atte thi wille, The godus that here now is." Thenne speke Sir Amadace so fre, Sayd, "Atte ȝour wille, lord, alle schalle be, And so I hope hit is." Then Sir Amadace a squrd vppe-hente, To strike the ladi was his entente, And thenne the quite knyȝte be[de] sese! He toke vppe the ladi, and the litulle knaue, And to Sir Amadace ther he hom gaue, And sayd, "Now is tyme of pees!"

LXVIII.

He sayd, "I con notte wite thè, gif thou were woe, Suche a ladi for to slo, Thi wurschip thus wold saue; ȝette I was largely as gladde, Quen thou gafe alle that euyr thou hade, My bones for to graue. In a chapelle quere I lay to howundus mete, Thou payut furst thritty powund by grete, Sethun alle that thou myȝtus haue; Ther I be-soȝte God, schuld keuyr thè of thi care, That for me hade made thè so bare, Mi wurschip in lond to saue."

LXIX.

"Fare-wele now," he sayd, "mynne awne true fere! For my lenging is no lengur her, With tunge sum I thè telle; Butte loke thou lufe this lady as thi lyue, That thus mekely, with-outen stryue, Thi forwardus wold fulfille!" Thenne he wente oute of that toune, He glode a-way as dew in towne, And thay a-bode ther stille; Thay knelutte downe opon thayre kne, And thonket God and Mary fre, And so thay hade gud skille!

LXX.

Thenne Sir Amadace and his wiue, With joy and blis thay ladde thayre liue, Vnto thayre ending daye; Ther is ladìs now in lond fulle foe, That wold haue seruut hor lord soe, Butte sum wold haue sayd nay. Botte quo-so serues God truly, And his modur, Mary fre, This dar I sauely say; Gif hom sumtyme like fulle ille, ȝette God will graunte hom alle hor wille, Tille heuyn the redy waye.

LXXI.

Then Sir Amadace send his messingerus, Alle the londus ferre and nere, Vnto his awne cuntre; Till all that euyr his lond with-held, Frithe or forest, towne or filde,

With tresur owte boȝte he. His stuard and othir, that with him were, He send aftur hom, as ȝe may here, And gafe hom gold and fee; And thay ther with him for to leng, Euyrmore tille thayre lyuus ende, With myrthe and solempnite!

LXXII.

Thenne sone aftur the kinge deet, at Goddus wille, And thay a-bode thare stille, As ȝe schalle vndurstond; Thenne was he lord of toure and towne, And alle thay comun to his somoune, Alle the grete lordus of the londe. Thenne Sir Amadace, as I ȝo say, Was crownette kinge opon a day, Wyth gold so clure schinand;— Jhesu Criste in Trinite, Blesse and glade this cumpany, And ore vs halde his hande!

FINIS DE SIR AMADACE.

THE AVOWYNGE OF KING ARTHER, SIR GAWAN, SIR KAYE, AND SIR BAWDEWYN OF BRETAN.

I.

He that made vs on the mulde, And fair fourmet the folde, Atte his wille, as he wold; The see, and the sande; Giffe hom joy, that wille here, Of duȝti men, and of dere, Of haldurs, that be-fore vs were, That lifd in this londe. One was Arther the kinge, With-owtun any letting, With him was mony lordinge, Hardi of honde; Wite and war ofte thay were, Bold vndur banere, And wiȝte weppuns wold were, And stifly wold stond.

II.

This is no fantum, ne no fabulle, ȝe wote wele of the Rowuntabulle, Of prest men, and priueabulle, Was holdun in prise;

Cheuetan of chiualry, Kyndenesse of curtesy, Hunting fulle warly, As wayt men and wise, To the forest tha fare, To hunte atte buk, and atte bare, To the herte, and to the hare, That bredus in the rise; The king atte Carlele he lay, The hunter cummys on a day, Sayd, "Sir, ther walkes in my way, A welle grim gryse!

III.

He is a balefulle bare, Secheon seghe I neuyr are! He hase wroȝte me myculle care, And hurte of my howundes; Slayn hom downe slely, With feȝting fulle furcely, Wasse ther none so hardi, Durste bide in his bandus. On him spild I my spere, And myculle of my nothir gere, Ther mone no dintus him dere, Ne wurche him no wowundes; He is masly made, Alle of fellus that he bade, Ther is no bulle so brade, That in frithe foundes.

IV.

He is heȝer thenne a horse, That vn-cumly corse, In fayth, him faylis no force,

Quen that he schalle feȝte; And ther-to, blake as a bere, Feye folke will he fere; Ther may no dyntus him dere, Ne him to dethe diȝte. Quen he quettus his tusshes, Thenne he betus on the busshes; Alle he riues and he russhes, That the rote is vnryȝte; He hase a laythelyche luffe, Quen he castus vppe his stuffe; Quo durst a-bide him a buffe, I-wisse he were wiȝte!"

V.

He sais, in Ingulwode is hee, The tother biddus lette him bee! We schalle that Satnace see, Giffe that he be thare. The king callut on knyȝtis thre; Him seluun wold the fuyrthe be; He sayd, "There schalle o mo menè Wynde to the bore." Bothe Kay and Sir Gauan, And Bowdewynne of Bretan, The hunter and the howundus-squayn, Hase ȝarket hom ȝare; The kinge hase armut him in hie, And tho thre biurnes him bie, Now ar thay fawre alle redie, And furthe conne thay fare.

VI.

Vn-to the forest thay weynde,

That was hardy and heynde, The hunter atte the northe ende, His bugulle con he blaw; Vn-coupult kenettis as he couthe, Witturly thay soȝte the southe, Raches with opon mouthe, Rennyng on a raw, Funde fute of the bore, Faste folutte to him thore,— Quen that he herd, he hade care, To the denne conne he draw; He sloȝe hom downe slely, With feȝting fulle fuyrsly, But witte ȝe, Sirs, witturly, He stode butte litulle awe.

VII.

Thay held him fast in his hold, He brittunt bercelettus bold, Bothe the ȝunge and the old, And raste hom the rest; The raches comun rengnyng him by, And bayet him fulle boldely, Butte ther was non so hardy, Durste on the fynde fast. Thenne the hunter sayd lo him thare, "ȝaw thar suche him no mare, Now may ȝe sone to him fare, Lette see quo dose beste? ȝaw thar suche him neuyr more, Butte sette my hed opon a store, Butte giffe he flaey ȝo alle fawre, That griseliche geste!

VIII.

Thenne the hunter turnes home a-gayn, The king callut on Sir Gauan, On Bawdewin of Bretan, And on kene Kay; He sayd, "Sirs, in ȝour cumpany Myne a-vow make I, Were he neuyr so hardy, ȝone Satenas to say, To brittun him, and downe bringe, With-oute any helpinge, And I may haue my leuynge, Her tille to-morne atte day; And now, Sirs, I cummaunde ȝo, To do as I haue done nowe, Ichone make ȝour a-vowe;"— Gladdely grawuntutte thay.

IX.

Then vnsquarut Gauan, And sayd godely a-gayn, "I a-vowe to Tarnewathelan, To wake hit alle nyȝte." "And I a-vow," sayd Kaye, "To ride this forest or daye; Quo-so wernes me the waye, Hym to dethe diȝte!" Quod Baudewyn, "To stynte owre strife, I a-vow, bi my life, Neuyr to be jelus of my wife, Ne of no birde bryȝte; Nere werne nomon my mete, Quen I gode may gete, Ne drede my dethe for no threte, Nauthir of king ner knyȝte."

X.

Butte now thay haue thayre vowes made, Thay buskutte hom, and furthe rade, To hold that thay heȝte hade, Ichone sere way; The king turnus to the bore, Gauan, with any more, To the tarne con he fore, To wake hit to day. Thenne Kay, as I conne roune, He rode the forest vppe and downe, Boudewynne turnes to toune, Sum that his gate lay; And sethun to bed bownus he, Butte carpe we now of ther othir thre, How thay preuyd hor wedde-fee, Tho sothe for to say.

XI.

Furst to carpe of oure kinge,— Hit is a kyndeliche thinge, Atte his begynnyng, Howe he dedde his dede; Tille his houndus con he hold, The bore with his brode schilde, Folut hom fast in the filde, And spillutte on hom, gode spede, Then the kinge con crye, And carputte of venerie, To make his howundus hardi, Houut on a stede; Als sone as he come thare, A-ȝaynus him rebowndet the bare; He se neuyr no syȝte are So sore gerutte him to drede.

XII.

He hade drede and doute, Of him that was stirrun, and stowte, He be-gan to romy and rowte, And gapes and gones; Men myȝte noȝte his cowche kenne For howundes and for slayn men, That he hade draun to his denne, And brittunt alle to bonus. Thenne his tusshes con he quette, Opon the kinge for to sette, He liftis vppe, with-outun lette, Stokkes and stonis; With wrathe he be-gynnus to wrote, He ruskes vppe mony a rote, With tusshes of iij. fote, So grisly he gronus!

XIII.

Thenne the kinge spanos his spere, Opon that bore for to bere, Ther may no dyntus him dere, So sekir was his schilde! The grete schafte that was longe, Alle to spildurs hit spronge,— The gode stede that was stronge, Was fallun in the filde! As the bore had mente, He gaue the king suche a dinte, Or he myȝte his bridulle hente, That he myȝte euyr hit fele; His stede was stonet, starke ded, He sturd neuyr owte of that sted, To Jhesu a bone he bede, Fro wothes hym weylde!

XIV.

Thenne the king in his sadul sete, And wiȝtely wan on his fete, He prays to Sayn Margarete, Fro wathes him ware! Did as a duȝty knyȝte, Brayd oute a brand bryȝte, And heue his schild opon hiȝte, For spild was his spere. Sethun he buskette him ȝare, Squithe with-outun any mare, A-ȝaynus the fynde for to fare, That hedoes was of hiere; So thay cowunturt in the fild,— For alle the weppuns that he myȝte weld, The bore brittunt his schild, On brest he conne bere.

XV.

There downe knelus he, And prayus tille him that was so fre, "Send me the vittorè, This Satanas me sekes!" Alle wrothe wex that sqwyne, Blu, and brayd vppe his bryne, As kylne other kechine; Thus rudely he rekes. The kynge myȝte him noȝte see, Butte lenyt him doune bi a tree, So nyȝe discumford was hee, For smelle other smekis; And as he neghet bi a noke, The king sturenly him stroke, That bothe his brees con blake, His maistry he mekes.

XVI.

Thus his maistry mekes he, With dyntus that werun duȝtè, Were he neuyr so hardè, Thus bidus that brothe; The kinge with a nobulle brande, He mette the bore comande, On his squrd tille his hande, He rennes fulle rathe. He bare him inne atte the throte, He hade no myrthe of that mote, He began to dotur and dote, Os he hade keghet scathe; With sit siles he a-downe,— To brittun him the king was bowne, And sundurt in that sesun, His brode schildus bothe.

XVII.

The king couthe of venery, Colurt him fulle kyndely, The hed of that hardy, He sette on a stake; Sethun brittuns he the best, As venesun in forest, Bothe the ȝonge and lees, He hongus on a noke. There downe knelys hee, That loues her that is free, Sayd, "This socur thou hase send me, For thi Sune sake!" If he were in a dale depe, He hade no knyȝte him to kepe, For werre slidus he on slepe, No lengur myȝte he wake.

XVIII.

The king hase fillut his avowe;— Of Kay carpe we nowe, How that he come fro his prowe, ȝe schalle here more; Als he rode in the nyȝte, In the forest he mette a knyȝte, Ledand a birde bryȝte, Ho wepputte wundur sore. Ho sayd, "Sayn Marè myȝte me spede, And saue me my madun-hede, And giffe the knyȝte, for his dede, Bothe soro and care!"

XIX.

Thus ho talkes him tille, Quille ho hade sayd alle hur wille, And Kay held him fulle stille, And in the holte houes; He prekut oute prestely, And aure-hiet him radly, And on the knyȝte conne cry, And pertely him reproues. And sayd, "Recraiand knyȝte! Here I profur thè to fiȝte, Be chesun of that biurde briȝte, I bede thè my glouus!" The tother vnsquarut him with skille, And sayd, "I am redy, at thi wille, That forward to fulfille, In alle the me be-houus."

XX.

"Now quethun art thou!" quod Kay, "Or quethur is thou on way? Thi riȝte name thou me say,— Quere wan thou that wiȝte?" The tother vnsquarut him agayn, "Mi riȝte name is, noȝte to layn, Sir Menealfe of the Mountayn, My gode-fadur hiȝte. And this lady sum I thè telle, I fochet hur atte Ledelle, Ther hur frindus con he felle, As foes in a fiȝte; So I talket hom tille, That muche blode conne I spille, And all a-ȝaynus thayre awne wille, There wan I this wiȝte."

XXI.

Quod Kay, "The batelle I take, Be chesun of the birdus sake, And I schalle wurche thè wrake!" And sqwithely con squere; Thenne thay rode to-gedur ryȝte, As frekes redy to fiȝte, Be chesun of that birde bryȝte, Gay in hor gere! Menealfe was the more myȝty, He stroke Kay stifly, Witte ȝe, Sirs, witturly, With a scharpe spere; All to-schildurt his schilde, And aure his sadulle gerut him to held, And felle him flatte in the filde, And toke him vppe on werre.

XXII.

Thus hase he wonun Kay on werre, And alle to-spild in his spere, And mekille of othir gere, Is holden to the pees; Thenne unsquarut Kay aȝayn, And sayd, "Sir, atte Tarnewathelan, Bidus me Sir Gauan, Is derwurthe on dese! Wold ȝe thethur be bowne, Or ȝe turnut to the towne, He wold pay my rawunsone, With-owtyn delees." He sayd, "Sir Kay, thi lyfe I thè heȝte, For a cowrce of that knyȝte;" ȝette Menealfe, or the mydnyȝte, Him ruet alle his rees.

XXIII.

Thus thay turnut to the Torne, With the thriuand thorne, Kay callut on Gauan ȝorne, Asshes, "Quo is there?" He sayd, "I, Kay, that thou knawes, That owte of tyme bostus and blawus, Butte thou me lese with thi lawes, I lif neuyr more. For as I rode in the nyȝte, In the forest I mette a knyȝte, Ledand a birde bryȝte, Ho wepput wundur sore; There to-gedur faȝte we, Be chesun of that lady free, On werre thus hase he wonun me, Gif that me lothe ware!

XXIV.

This knyȝte, that is of renowun, Hase takyn me to presowun, And thou mun pay my rawunsun, Gawan, with thi leue." Then vnsquarutte Gauan, And sayd godely agayn, "I wille, wundur fayne, Quatt schalle I geue?" "Quen thou art armut in thi gere, Take thi schild and thi spere, And ride to him a course on werre, Hit schalle thè noȝte greue." Gauan asshes, "Is hit soe?" To tother knyȝt grauntus, ȝoe, He sayd, "Then to-gedur schulle we goe, How-sumeuyr hit cheuis."

XXV.

And these knyȝtus kithum hor crafte, And aythir gripus a schafte, Was als rude as a rafte, So runnun thay to-gedur; So somun conne tha hie, That nauthir scaput for-bye, Gif Menealfe was the more myȝtie, ȝette dyntus gerut him to dedur. He stroke him sadde and sore, Squithe squonut he thore, The blonke him a-boute bore, Wiste he neuyr quedur! Quod Kay, "Thou hase that thou hase soȝte, Mi rauunsun is alle redy boȝte, Gif thou were ded I ne roȝte,— For-thi come I hedur.

XXVI.

Thus Kay scornus the knyȝte, And Gauan rydus to him ryȝte, In his sadul sette him on hiȝte, Speke gif he may; Of his helme con he draw, Lete the wynde on him blaw, He speke with a vois law, "Delyueryt hase thou Kay. With thi laa hase made him leyce, Butte him is lothe to be in pece, And thou was aye curtase, And prins of iche play; Wold thou here a stowunde bide, A-nother course wold I ride, This that houes by my side, In wedde I wold hur lay!"

XXVII.

Then vnsquarut Gauan, Sayd godely a-gayn, "I am wundur fayn, For hur for to fiȝte." These knyȝtus kithum thay gere, And aythir gripus a spere, Runnun to-gedur on werre, Os hardy and wiȝte. So somen that thay ȝode, That Gauan bare him fro his stede, That bothe his brees con blede, On growunde qwen he liȝte; Thenne Kay con on him calle, And sayd, "Sir, thou hade a falle, And thi wenche lost with-alle, Mi trauthe I thè pliȝte!"

XXVIII.

Quod Kay, "Thi leue hase thou loste, For alle thi brag or thi boste, If thou haue oȝte on hur coste, I telle hit for tente!" Thenne speke Gauan to Kay, "A mon's happe is notte ay, Is none so sekur of a say, Butte he may harmes hente." Gauan rydus to him ryȝte, And toke vppe the tother knyȝte, That was dilfully dyȝte, And stonet in that stynte; Kay wurdus tenut him mare, Thenne alle the harmes that he hente thare, He sayd, "And we allone ware, This stryf schuld I stynte."

XXIX.

"ȝe, hardely!" quod Kay, "Butte thou hast lost thi fayre may, And thi liffe I dar lay,"— Thus talkes he him tille; And Gauan sayd, "Gode forbede! For he is duȝti in dede,"— Prayes the knyȝte gud spede, To take hit to none ille, If Kay speke wurdes kene,— "Take thou this dameselle schene, Lede hur to Gaynour the quene, This forward to fulfille; And say, that Gawan hur knyȝte, Sende hur this byurde briȝte, And rawunsun thè a-non riȝte, Atte hur awne wille."

XXX.

Ther-to grawuntus the knyȝte, And truly his trauthe pliȝte, Inne saue-ward that byurde bryȝte, To Carlele to bringe; And as thay houet and abode, He squere on the squrd brode;— Be he his othe hade made, Thenne waknut the king. Thenne the day be-ganne to daw, The kinge his bugulle con blaw, His knyȝtus couthe hitte welle knaw, His was a sekur thinge; Sethun thay busket hom ȝare, Sqwith with owtun any mare, To wete the kingus welefare, With-owtun letting. [Primus Passus.]

XXXI.

TO the forest thay take the way, Bothe Gawan and Kay, Menealfe and the fare May, Comun to the kinge; The bore brittunt thay funde, Was colurt of the kingus hunde, If he were lord of that londe, He hade no horsing. Downe thay take that birde bryȝte, Sette hur one, behinde the knyȝte, Hur horse for the king was dyȝte, With-outun letting; Gaue Kay the venesun to lede, And hiet hamward, gode spede, Bothe the birde and the brede, To Carlele thay bringe.

XXXII.

Now as thay rode atte the way, The kynge him seluun con say, Bothe to Gauan and to Kay, "Quere wan ȝe this wiȝte?" Thenne Kay to the king spake, He sayd, "Sir, in the forest as I con wake, Atte the Anturis hoke, Ther mette me this knyȝte. Ther to-gedur faȝte we, Be chesun of this lady fre, On werre hase he thus wonun me, With mayn and wythe myȝte; And Gawan hase my rawunsun made, For a course that he rode, And felle him in the fild brode, He wanne this biurde bryȝte.

XXXIII.

"He toke him there to presunnere;"— Then loghe that dameselle dere, And louet with a mylde chere, God and Sir Gawan! Thenne sayd the king opon hiȝte, Alle sqwithe to the knyȝte, "Quat is thi rawunsun opon ryȝte, The sothe thou me sayn?" The tothir vnsquarut him with skille, "I conne notte say thè ther-tille, Hit is atte the quene wille, Qwi schuld I layne? Bothe my dethe and my lyfe, Is inne the wille of thi wife, Quethur ho wulle stynte me of my strife, Or putte me to payne!"

XXXIV.

"Grete God!" quod the king, "Gif Gawan gode endinge, For he is sekur in alle kynne thinge, To cowuntur with a knyȝte! Of alle playus he berus the prise, Loos of ther ladise,— Menealfe, and thou be wise, Hold that thou be-heȝte. And I schalle helpe that I maye," The king him seluun con saye,— To Carlele thay take the waye, And inne the courte is liȝte; He toke this dameselle gente, Be-fore the quene is he wente, And sayd, "Medame, I am hedur sente Fro Gawan, ȝour knyȝte."

XXXV.

He sayd, "Me-dame, Gawan ȝour knyȝte, On werre hase wonun me to-nyȝte, Be chesun of this birde briȝte, Mi pride conne he spille; And gerut me squere squyftely, To bringe thè this lady, And my nowne body, To do hit in thi wille, And I haue done as he me bade,"— "Now," quod the quene, "and I am glade, Sethun thou art in my wille stade, To spare or to spille; I giffe thè to my lord, the kinge, For he hase mestur of suche a thinge, Of knyȝtus in a-cowunturinge, This forward to fullfille."

XXXVI.

"Now," the quene sayd, "God Almyȝte! Saue me Gawan, my knyȝte, That thus for wemen con fiȝte, Fro wothus him were!" Gawan sayd, "Medame, as God me spede, He is duȝti of dede, A blithe burne on a stede, And graythe in his gere." Thenne thay fochet furthe a boke, Alle thayre laes for to loke, The kinge sone his othe toke, And squithely gerut him squere; And sekirly, with-outen fabulle, Thus dwellus he atte the Rowuntabulle, As prest knyȝte, and preuabulle, With schild and with spere.

XXXVII.

Nowe gode frindus ar thay, Then carpus Sir Kay, To the king con he say, "Sire, a mervaelle thinke me, Of Bowdewyn's avouyng, ȝustur euyn in the eunyng, With-owtun any lettyng, Wele more thenne we thre." Quod the king, "Sothe to sayn, I kepe no lengur for to layn, I wold wete wundur fayn, How best myȝte be." Quod, Kay, "And ȝe wold gif me leue, And sithun take hit o no greue, Now schuld I propurly preue, As euyr myȝte I thee."

XXXVIII.

"ȝisse," quod the king, "on that couande, That o payn on life and on londe, That ȝe do him no wrunge, Butte saue wele my knyȝte; As men monly him mete, And sithun for-sette him the strete, ȝe fynde him noȝte on his fete Be warre, for he is wyȝte! For he is horsutte fulle wele, And clene clad in stele, Is none of ȝo but he mun fele, That he may on-lyȝte; ȝe wynnun him noȝte owte of his way," The king him seluun con say, "Him is lefe, I dar lay, To hald that he heȝte."

XXXIX.

Thenne sex ar atte on assente, Hase armut hom, and furthe wente, Brayd owte aure a bente, Bawdewyn to mete; With scharpe weppun and schene, Gay gownus of grene, To hold thayre armur clene, And were hitte fro the wete. Thre was sette on iche side, To werne him the wayus wide, Quere the knyȝte schuld furthe ride, For-sette hym the strete; With copus couert thay hom thenne, Ryȝte as thay hade bene vncowthe men, For that thay wold noȝte be kennet, Euyn downe to thayre fete.

XL.

Now as thay houut, and thay hyild, Thay so a schene vndur schild, Come prekand fast aure the filde, On a fayre stede; Wele armut and dyȝte, As freke redy to fyȝte, Toward Carlele ryȝte, He hies, gode spede. He see ther sixe in his way, Thenne to thaym seluun con thay say, "Now he is ferd, I dar lay, And of his lyfe dredus;" Then Kay crius opon heȝte, Alle squythe to the knyȝte, "Othir flee or fiȝte, The tone be-houus the nede!"

XLI.

Thenne thay kest thayre copus hom fro, Sir Bawdewyn se that hit wasse so, And sayd, "And ȝe were als mony mo, ȝe gerutte me notte to flee; I haue my ways for to weynde, For to speke with a frynde, As ȝe ar herdmen hinde, ȝe marre notte me!" Thenne the sex sembult hom in fere, And squere, "By him that boȝte vs dere! Thou passus neuyr a-way here, Butte gif thou dede be!" "ȝisse! hardely," quod Kay, "He may take a-nothir way, And ther schalle no mon do nere say, That schalle greue thè."

XLII.

"Gode thè forȝilde," quod the knyȝte, "For I am in my wais riȝte, ȝistur euyn I the king hiȝte, To cumme to my mete; I warne ȝo, frekes, be ȝe bold, My ryȝte ways wille I holde;"— A spere in fewtre he foldes, A gode and a grete. Kay stode nexte him in his way, He jorput him aure on his play, That heuy horse on him lay, He squonet in that squete; He rode to there othir fyue, Thayre schene schildus con he riue, And faure felle he belyue, In hie in that hete!

XLIII.

Hardely, with-outen delay, The sex to hom hase takyn vppe Kay, And thenne Sir Bawdewin con say, "Wille ȝe any more?" The tother vnsquarutte him ther tille, Sayd, "Thou may weynd quere thou wille, For thou hase done vs noȝte butte skille, Gif we be wowundut sore." He brayd aure to the kinge, With-owtun any letting, He asshed, if he hade herd any tithing, In thayre holtus hore? The knyȝte stedit and stode, Sayd, "Sir, as I come thro ȝondur wode, I herd ne se butte gode, Quere I schuld furthe fare."

XLIV.

Thanne was the kinge ameruaylet thare, That he wold telle him no more,— Als squithur thay ar ȝare, To masse ar thay wente; By the masse wasse done, Kay come home sone, Told the king be-fore none, "We ar alle schente. Of Sir Baudewyn, ȝour knyȝte, He is nobulle in the fiȝte, Bold hardy and wiȝte, To bide on a bente; Fle wille he neuyr more, Him is muche leuyr dee thore, I may banne hur that him bore, Suche harmes haue I hente!"

XLV.

Noue the king sayd, "Fle he ne can, Ne werne his mete to no man, Gife any biurne schuld him ban, A meruail hit ware!" Thenne the king cald his mynstrelle, And told him holly his wille, Bede him layne atte hit were stille, That he schuld furthe fare, To Baudewins of Bretan, "I cummawunde thè or thou cum a-gayne, Faurty days o payne, Loke that thou duelle there; And wete me preuely to say, If any mon go meteles away, For thi wareson for ay, Do thou me neuyrmore."

XLVI.

Then the mynstrelle weyndus on his way, Als fast as he may, Be none of the thryd day He funde thaym atte the mete; The lady and hur menè, And gestus grete plentè, Butte porter none funde he, To werne him the ȝate. Butte rayket in-to the halle, Emunge the grete and the smalle, And loket a-boute him aure alle, He herd of no threte; Butte rialle seruys, and fyne In bollus birlutte thay the wyne, And cocus in the kechine, Squytheli con squete!

XLVII.

Then the ladi conne he loute, And the biurdes alle a-boute, Bothe with-inne and with-oute, No faute he ther fonde: Knyȝte, squyer, ȝoman, ne knaue, Hom lacket noȝte that thay schuld haue, Thay nedut notte aftur hit to craue, Hit come to hor honde. Thenne he wente to the dece, Be-fore the pruddust in prece, That lady was curtase, And bede him stille stonde; He sayd, he was knoun and couthe, And was comun fro bi-southe, And ho had myrthe of his mouthe To here his tithand.

XLVIII.

A sennyȝt duellut he thare, Ther was no spense for to spare, Burdes thay were neuyr bare, Butte euyr couurt clene; Bothe knyȝte and squiere, Mynstrelle and messyngere, Pilgreme and palmere, Was welcum, I wene. Ther was plenty of fode, Pore men hade thayre gode, Mete and drinke or thay ȝode, To wete, wythe-outyn wene; The lord lenge wold noȝte, Butte come home, qwen him gode thoȝte, And bothe he hase with him broȝte The kinge and the quene. [A Fitte.]

XLIX.

NOW ther come fro the kechine Rialle seruice and fine, Ther was no wonting of wine, To lasse ne to mare; Thay hade atte thayre sopere, Riche metes and dere, The king with a blythe chere, Bade hom sle care! Then sayd the kinge opon hiȝte, Alle sqwithe to the knyȝte, "Suche a seruice on a nyȝte Se I neuyr are!" Thenne Bawdewyn smylit, and on him loghe, Sayd, "Sir, God hase a gud pluȝe, He may send vs alle enughe, Qwy schuld we spare?"

L.

"Now I cummawunde thè," quod the king, To-morne in the mornyng, That thou weynde on huntyng, To wynne vs the dere; Fare furthe to the fenne, Take with thè howundus and men, For thou conne hom best kenne, Thou knoes best here. For alle day to-morne wille I bide, And no forthir wille I ride, Butte with the ladès of pride, To make me gud chere." To bed bownut thay that nyȝte, And atte the morun atte days liȝte, Thay blew hornys opon hiȝte, And ferd furthe in fere.

LI.

Thenne the kynge cald his huntere, And sayd, "Felaw, come here;"— The tother, with a blithe chere, Knelet on his kne; Dowun to the kinge con he lowte, "I commawunde thè to be alle nyȝte oute, Bawdewyn, that is sturun and stowte, With thè schall he be. Erly in the dawyng, Loke that ȝe come fro huntyng, If ȝe no venesun bring, Full litille rechs me!" The tother vnsquarut him ther tille, Sayd, "Sir, that is atte ȝour aune wille, That hald I resun and skille, As euyr myȝte I the!"

LII.

And atte euyn the king con him dyȝte, And callut to him a knyȝte, And to the chambur full riȝte, He hiees, gode waye; Qwere the lady of the howse, And maydyns ful beuteowse, Were curtase and curiowse, For sothe in bed lay. The kyng bede "Vndo;"— The lady asshes, "Querto?"— He sayd, "I am comun here loe, In derne for to play;" Ho sayd, "Haue ȝe notte ȝour aune quene here, And I my lord to my fere, To nyȝte more neȝe ȝe me nere, In faythe gif I may!"

LIII.

"Vndo the dur," quod the kinge, "For bi him that made alle thinge, Thou schalle haue no harmynge, Butte in thi none wille!" Vppe rose a dameselle squete, In the kinge that ho lete, He sette him downe on hur beddus fete, And talkes so hur tille. Sayd, "Medame, my knyȝte Mun lye with thè alle nyȝte, Til to-morne atte days liȝte, Take hit on non ille; For als euyr myȝte I the, Thou schalle harmeles be, We do hit for a wedde-fee, The stryue for to stylle."

LIV.

Thenne the kyng sayd to his knyȝte, "Sone that thou were vndyȝte, And in ȝondur bedde ryȝte, Hie thè, gud spede!" The knyȝte did as he him bade, And qwenne ho se him vnclad, Then the lady wex drede, Worlyke in wede. He sayd, "Lye downe preuely hur by, Butte neghe noȝte thou that lady, For and thou do, thou schalle dey, For thi derfe dede; Ne noȝte so hardy thou stur, Ne onus turne thè to hur; The tother sayd, "Nay, Sur," For him hade he drede.

LV.

Thenne the kyng asshet a chekkere, And cald a damesel dere, Downe thay sette hom in fere, Opon the bed syde; Torches was ther mony liȝte, And laumpus brennyng fulle brȝte, Butte notte so hardy was that knyȝte, His hede onus to hide. Butte fro thay be-gan to play, Quyle on the morun that hit was day, Euyr he lokette as he lay, Baudewynne to byde; And erly in the dawyng, Come thay home from huntyng, And hertis conne thay home bring, And buckes of pride.

LVI.

Thay toke this venesun fyne, And hade hit to kechine, The kinge sonde after Bawdewine, And bede him cum see; To the chaumbur he takes the way, He fyndus the king atte his play, A knyȝte in his bedde lay, With his lady. Thenne sayd the king opon hiȝte, "To nyȝte myssutte I my knyȝte, And hithir folut I him ryȝte, Here funden is hee; And here I held hom bothe stille, For to do hom in thi wille, And gif thou take hit now tille ille, No selcouthe thinge me."

LVII.

Then the king asshed, "Art thou wrothe?" "Nay, Sir," he sayd, "with-outen othe, Ne wille the lady no lothe, I telle ȝo as quy; For hitte was atte hur awen wille, Els thurt no mon comun hur tille, And gif I take hitte thenne to ille, Much maugreue haue Y, For mony wyntur to-gedur we haue bene, And ȝette ho dyd me neuyr no tene, And iche syn schalle be sene, And sette fulle sorely;" The king sayd, "And I hade thoȝte, Quy that thou wrathis thè noȝte, And fyndus him in bed broȝte, By thi laydy?"

LVIII.

Quod Bawdewyn, "And ȝe wille sitte, I schalle do ȝo wele to witte;"— "ȝisse," quod the king, "I thè hete, And thou wille noȝte layne."— "Hit be-felle in ȝour fadur tyme, That was the kyng of Costantyne, Puruayed a grete oste and a fyne, And wente in-to Spayne. We werrut on a Sawdan, And alle his londus we wan, And him seluun, or we blan, Then were we fulle fayn; I wos so lufd with the king, He gafe me to my leding, Lordus atte my bidding, Was buxum and bayne.

LIX.

He gafe me a castelle to gete, With alle the lordschippus grete, I hade men atte my mete, Fyue hundrythe and mo; And no wemen butte thre, That owre seruandis schild be; One was bryȝtur of ble Then ther othir toe, Toe were atte one assente, The thrid felow haue thay hente, Vnto a welle ar thay wente, And says hur alleso; "Sithin alle the loce in thè lise, Thou schalle tyne thine aprise;" And wurchun as the vnwise, And tite conne hur sloe.

LX.

And for tho werkes were we wo, Gart threte tho othir for to slo, Thenne sayd the tone of tho, "Lette vs haue oure life; And we schalle atte ȝour bidding be, As myculle as we alle thre;— Is none of ȝaw in preuetè Schalle haue wontyng of wyfe." Thay held vs wele that thay heȝte, And diȝte vs on the day liȝte, And thayre body vche nyȝte, With-outun any stryue; The tone was more louely, That the tother hade enuy, Hur throte in sundur preuely, Ho cutte hitte with a knyfe.

LXI.

Muche besenes hade we, How that best myȝte be, Thay asshed cowuncelle atte me, To do hur to dede; And I vnsquarut, and sayd, "Nay, Loke furst qwatt hur seluun wille say, Quether ho may serue vs alle to pay, That is a bettur rede. Ther ho hette vs in ther halle, To do alle that a woman schild falle, Wele for to serue vs alle, That stode in that stede; Ho held vs wele that ho heȝte, And diȝte vs on the day liȝte, And hur body iche nyȝte, In tille oure bed beed.

LXII.

And bi this tale I vndurstode, Wemen that is of mylde mode, And syne giffes hom to gode, Meculle may ho mende; And tho that giffus hom to the ille, And sithin thayre folìs wille fullfille, I telle ȝo wele, be propur skille, No luffe wille inne hom lenge. With gode wille grathely hom gete, Meke and mylde atte her mete, Thryuandly with-outun threte, And joy atte iche ende; Forthi jelius schalle I neuer be, For no siȝte that I see, Ne no biurdes briȝte of ble, Iche ertheli thinke hase ende!"

LXIII.

The king sayd, "Thou says wele,— "Sir," he sayd, "as haue I sele, I wille thou wote hit iche dele, Therefore come Y; Thi lady gret me to squere squyftelè, Or I myȝte gete entrè, That ho schuld harmelès be, And alle hur cumpany. Then gerut I my knyȝte, To go in bed with the biurde bryȝte, On the fur syde of the liȝte, And lay hur dowun by; I sette me doune hom besyde, Here thè for to a-bide, He neȝhit neuyr no naked syde Of thi lady.

LXIV.

For-thi of jelusnes be thou bold, Thine a-vow may thou hold, Butte of tho othir thinges that thou me told, I wold wete more; Quy thou dredus notte thi dede, Ne non that bitus on thi brede, As euyr brok I my hede, Thi ȝatis ar euyr ȝare!" Quod Bawdewyn, "I schalle ȝo telle; Atte the same castelle, Quere this antur befelle, Be-segitte we ware; On a day we vsshet oute, And toke presonerus stoute, The tone of owre foloys had doute, And durst notte furthe fare.

LXV.

The caytef crope in-to a tunne, That was sette ther owte in the sunne, And there come fliand a gunne, And lemet as the leuyn; Lyȝte opon hitte atte the last, That was fastnut so fast, Alle in sundur hit brast, In six or in seuyn. And there hit sluȝe him als, And his hert was so fals, Sone the hed fro the hals, Hit lyputt fulle euyn! And we come fro the feȝting, Sowunde with-outun hurting, And then we louyd the king That heghehest was in heuyn;

LXVI.

Then owre feloys con say, Schalle nomon dee or his day, Butte he cast him selfe a-way, Throȝhe wontyng of witte; And there myne a-vow made I, So dyd alle that cumpany, For dede neuyr to be drery, Welcum is hit. Hit is a kyndely thing."— "Thou says sothe," quod the king, "Butte of thi thryd a-vowyng, Telle me quyche is hit? Quy thi mete thou wille notte warne, To no leuand barne? Ther is no man that may hit tharne;"— "Lord, ȝe schalle wele wete.

LXVII.

For the sege a-boute vs lay stille, We hade notte alle atte oure wille, Mete and drinke vs to fille, Vs wontutte the fode; So come a messyngere, Bade, "ȝild vppe alle that is here," And speke with a sturun schere,— I nyll, by the rode! I gerutte him bide to none, Callud the stuard sone, Told him alle as he schuld done, As counselle is gud; Gerutte trumpe on the walle, And couerd burdes in the halle, And I my-self emunge hom alle, As a king stode.

LXVIII.

I gerut hom wasshe, to mete wente, Aftur the stuard then I sente, I bede that he schuld take entente, That alle schuld welle fare; Bede bringe bred plentè, And wine in bollus of tre, That no wontyng schuld be, To lasse ne to mare. We hade no mete, butte for on day Hit come in a nobulle aray, The messyngere lokit ay, And se hom sle care; He toke his leue atte me[te]; We gerutte him drinke atte the ȝate, And gafe him giftus grete, And furthe con he fare.

LXIX.

But quen the messyngere was gone, These officers ichone, To me made thay grete mone, And drerely con say; Sayd, "In this howse is no bred, No quyte wine nyf red, ȝo be-houes ȝild vppe this stid, And for oure lyuys pray." ȝette God helpus ay his man, The messyngere come a-gayn than, With-oute to the cheuytan, And sone conne he say; "Thoȝhe ȝe sege this seuyn ȝere, Castelle gete ȝe none here, For thay make als mirry chere, Als hit were ȝole day!"

LXX.

Then the messyngere con say, "I rede ȝo, hie ȝo hethinne a-way, For in ȝour oste is no play, Butte hongur and thurst;" Thenne the king con his knyȝtis calle, Sethinne to cowunselle wente thay alle, "Sythinne no bettur may be-falle, This hald I the best." Euyn atte the mydnyȝte, Hor lordis sembelet to a syȝte, That were hardy and wiȝte, Thay remuyt of hor rest; Mete laynes mony lakke, And there mete hor sege brake, And gerut hom to giffe vs the bake, To preke thay were fulle preste!

LXXI.

And then we lokit were thay lay, And see oure enmeys a-way, And then oure felawis con say, The lasse and the mare; He that gode may gete, And wernys men of his mete, Gud Gode, that is grete, Gif him sory care! For the mete of the messyngere, Hitte mendutte alle oure chere." Then sayd the king, that thay myȝte here, And sqwythely con squere, "In thè conne we fynde no fabulle, Thine a-vowes arne profetabulle;" And thus recordus the Rowndetabulle, The lasse and the more.

LXXII.

Thenne the kinge and his knyȝtis alle, Thay madun myrthe in that halle, And then the lady conne thay calle, The fayrist to fold; Sayde, "Bawdewyn, and thou be wise Take thou this lady of price, For muche loue in hur lyce To thine hert hold: Ho is a biurde fulle bryȝte, And therto semely to thy siȝte, And thou hase holdinne alle that thou hiȝte As a kniȝte schulde!" Now Jhesu Lord, Heuyn kynge, He graunt vs alle his blessynge And gife vs alle gode endinge, That made vs on the mulde!