 | Guy of Warwick |  |
Now is Gij þennes y-gon hom,
And also swiþe so niȝt come
To þe prisoun anon he ȝede,
And deliuerd his felawe in þat stede.
‘Sir Tirri,’ he seyd, ‘forþ þou go
(Niȝt no day no swike þou no)
Riȝt to Amis of þe Mounteyne,
Þat woneþ in þe marche of Almeyne.
On mine half grete him wele bi me.
Þider þou go, & ful wele rest þe,
Fort ich com, or man for me.’
‘Bleþeliche, sir,’ þan seyd he.
Hye kisten hem, and forþ ȝede þo;
At her parting hem was ful wo.
Aiþer for oþer for gret pite
In gret periil hadde y-be.
Gi lete him of þe tour þo,
Bitauȝt him god, & lete him go.
Gij bileft, & Tirri is forþ y-fare:
Of alle niȝt no hadde he rest þare.
So long is Tirri forþ y-gon,
To þe Mounteyn he com anon;
A castel þer was fair wiþalle,
And strong cite biloken wiþ walle;
Fair halles & toures also
In þe cite were mani & mo.
In þat on half orn þe riuer,
In þat oþer half forest wiþ wilde dere.
Into þe cite he is y-go,
And to þe maister palays he ȝede þo.
He fond Amis atte ches pleyinge
Wiþ his felawes, fair gamen giuing.
Þritti kniȝtes were in halle also
His soudours were, his wil to do,
Þat wiþ Amis bileften he
For wer þat was in þat cuntre.
‘Sir,’ quaþ Tirri, ‘ȝif it be þi wille,
Vnder-stond & speke me tille
Al priueliche, y þe biseche,
Þat þi folk no here our speche.’
Amis answerd, ‘wel bleþeliche
Wille ich it do & loueliche.’
Fram þe cheker he is y-go,
And to a windowe he cleped him þo.
‘Sir Amis,’ seyd Tirri,
‘Often þe greteþ wele sir Gij;
& hider to ȝou he sent me,
For to soiourne here wiþ þe,
Fort he may hider come,
Oþer anoþer send for him atte frome.’
‘Sir,’ quaþ Amis, ‘miche þanke haue he,
Þat he þe sent hider to me.
What is þi name? say þou me.’
‘Ichil þe telle, sir,’ quaþ he:
‘Tirri of Gormoise mi name is,
Aschaped of strong prisoun, y-wis.’
‘Sir Tirri,’ þan seyd he,
‘Welcome in-to þis cuntre!’
He kist him an hundred siþe,
Wiþ eyȝen he wepe, so was he bliþe.
& for he him so miseise y-seye
Of prisoun aschaped, bliþe was hye.
He dede him baþe, sikerly,
And al þing diȝt him redi.
Wiþ riche cloþes he dede him schrede,
& fond him alle þat him was nede.
He ȝaf him armes and riche stede,
& diȝt him þer alle wiþ prede.
Þennes no went he for no þing,
Er he of Gij hadde tiding.
And also swiþe so niȝt come
To þe prisoun anon he ȝede,
And deliuerd his felawe in þat stede.
‘Sir Tirri,’ he seyd, ‘forþ þou go
(Niȝt no day no swike þou no)
Riȝt to Amis of þe Mounteyne,
Þat woneþ in þe marche of Almeyne.
On mine half grete him wele bi me.
Þider þou go, & ful wele rest þe,
Fort ich com, or man for me.’
‘Bleþeliche, sir,’ þan seyd he.
Hye kisten hem, and forþ ȝede þo;
At her parting hem was ful wo.
Aiþer for oþer for gret pite
In gret periil hadde y-be.
Gi lete him of þe tour þo,
Bitauȝt him god, & lete him go.
340
Of alle niȝt no hadde he rest þare.
So long is Tirri forþ y-gon,
To þe Mounteyn he com anon;
A castel þer was fair wiþalle,
And strong cite biloken wiþ walle;
Fair halles & toures also
In þe cite were mani & mo.
In þat on half orn þe riuer,
In þat oþer half forest wiþ wilde dere.
Into þe cite he is y-go,
And to þe maister palays he ȝede þo.
He fond Amis atte ches pleyinge
Wiþ his felawes, fair gamen giuing.
Þritti kniȝtes were in halle also
His soudours were, his wil to do,
Þat wiþ Amis bileften he
For wer þat was in þat cuntre.
‘Sir,’ quaþ Tirri, ‘ȝif it be þi wille,
Vnder-stond & speke me tille
Al priueliche, y þe biseche,
Þat þi folk no here our speche.’
Amis answerd, ‘wel bleþeliche
Wille ich it do & loueliche.’
Fram þe cheker he is y-go,
And to a windowe he cleped him þo.
‘Sir Amis,’ seyd Tirri,
‘Often þe greteþ wele sir Gij;
& hider to ȝou he sent me,
For to soiourne here wiþ þe,
Fort he may hider come,
Oþer anoþer send for him atte frome.’
‘Sir,’ quaþ Amis, ‘miche þanke haue he,
Þat he þe sent hider to me.
What is þi name? say þou me.’
‘Ichil þe telle, sir,’ quaþ he:
342
Aschaped of strong prisoun, y-wis.’
‘Sir Tirri,’ þan seyd he,
‘Welcome in-to þis cuntre!’
He kist him an hundred siþe,
Wiþ eyȝen he wepe, so was he bliþe.
& for he him so miseise y-seye
Of prisoun aschaped, bliþe was hye.
He dede him baþe, sikerly,
And al þing diȝt him redi.
Wiþ riche cloþes he dede him schrede,
& fond him alle þat him was nede.
He ȝaf him armes and riche stede,
& diȝt him þer alle wiþ prede.
Þennes no went he for no þing,
Er he of Gij hadde tiding.
| Guy of Warwick | |