"My lege," he seyd, "Þis man ȝou tellys,
Som-tyme men callyd me sir cleges;
Y was ȝour awne knyght."
"Arte þou my knyght, þat seruyd me,
Line 535
That was so gentyll and so fre,
Both strong, herdy and wyght?"
"Ȝe, lord," he seyd, "so mote I the,
Tyll god all-myȝht hath vyset me;
Thus pouerte hath me dyȝht."
Line 540
The kyng gaffe hym anon-ryȝht
All þat longes to a knyght,
To a-ray hys body with.
The castell of cardyff also
With all þe pourtenans þer-to,
Line 545
To hold with pes and grythe.
Than he made hym hys stuerd
Of all hys londys after-werd,
Off water, lond, and frythe,
A cowpe of gold he gafe hym blythe,
Line 550
To bere to dam clarys, hys wyfe,
Tokenyng of Ioy and myrthe.
The kyng made hys son squyre
And gafe hym a coler forte were
With a hundryth pownd of rente.
Line 555
When þei com home in þis maner,
Dame clarys, þat lady clere,
Sche thankyd god verament.
