University of Virginia Library

‘Sir Herhaud,’ seyd þe douk Loer,
‘Ichil þe make messanger:
To þerl Aubri þou schal go,
& Gij, & Tirri, & sigge hem so,
Þat ich wiþ hem acord wille
Of alle þat þai cun to me telle.
Sir Tirri ichil mi douhter ȝiue,
& half mi lond while þat y liue.
Ichil þat þou wittnesse me
Þat þe loue ste[de]fast be.’
‘Sir,’ quaþ Herhaud, ‘ichil so
Alle mi miȝt do þer-to.’
Þe douke of-sent his prisouns alle,
& dede hem arme swiþe snelle,
& hete hem þat þai failed nouȝt
Of þat þai hadde þider y-brouȝt.
‘Forþ wiþ Herhaud ȝe schal gon,
Þe acord to make riȝt anon.’
Herhaud made him redi þo,
Riȝt into Gormoise he is y-go,
& wiþ him went alle þe kniȝtes,
Acord to make anon riȝtes.
Gij cam on a day fram hunting,
Þerl Amis, & Tirri þe ȝing,
& mo þan an hundred kniȝt,
Wiþ swerd bigirt, y ȝou pliȝt.
Toward Gormoise þai ben y-go,
Bisiden hem þai loked þo;
So mani kniȝtes þai seye coming,
Of traisoun þai were dredeing.
Þan seyd [of] þe Mountayn Amis,
‘A gret ferd y se, y-wis.
Y not what folk it be:
Hiderward þai com, so þenkeþ me.’
Opon his gode stede he wond
Wiþ swerd & spere in his hond.
Þiderward he is y-go,
To hem he com wel sone þo.
Þo he gan hem com neye
Herhaud of Ardern þer he seye
He oxed him whennes he come.
‘Where is Gij?’ he seyd anon.
‘Sir,’ quaþ he, ‘ichil þe telle,
& lade þe to him wiþ gode wille.
Fram dere hunting y-comen he is:
Biside þanne hulle ichim lete, y-wis.’
Quaþ Herhaud, ‘felawes, wil we go.’
Wiþ sporres hij smiten her stedes þo:
Swiþe þai riden wiþ gret hy.
When þai seye Gij & sir Tirri,
‘God,’ quaþ Gij, ‘Herhaud y se
& alle min feren, so þenkeþ me:
Þai ben out of prisoun y-gon
Oþer quite-cleymed ichon.’
To kissen Herhaud þai hem do,
Wel gret ioie þai maden þo.
‘Sir Tirri,’ quaþ Herhaud þe fre,
‘Gode conseyl y telle to þe.
Þe sent to grete þe douk Loer,
Whom ich loue wiþ hert cler:
Worþschiped he haþ me miche,
And ouer alle oþer loued, sikerliche.
Wiþ þe he wil acorded be,
And swiþe miche he loueþ þe.
Þou schalt his douhter spousi:
Wiþ half his lond he wille þe feffi;
And wiþ þi fader he wil acordy,
And allso wiþ þe, sir Gij:
In alle maner to þi wille
He wille amende, for soþe y telle.
Ichil þer-of his borwe be,
Þat he do wil as y sigge to þe.’
Alle þai bisouȝten sir Gij,
And so þai dede þerl Tirri,
Þat þai schuld wiþ him acordy,
For he was michel to praisy.
So long þai bisouȝt him so,
And wiþ hem Amis, þat þer was þo.
Þer of acord speken he,
Þat it schuld treuwe be.
To þe cite þai ben y-gon,
& teld þerl Aubri anon
Hou þat Herhaud was y-come,
And hadde þe acord vnder-nome,
Þerl graunted raþe & snelle
Þe acord to Herhaudes wille.
No soiournd þai nouȝt long þo,
Bot riȝt to Loreyn þai ben y-go:
Þerl Aubri & Tirri his sone,
Gij & Herhaud ben þider y-come,
& of oþer kniȝtes mani also,
Þat bliþe were þider to go.
Þerl Aubri, & Tirri his sone,
Gij, Herhaud, & Amis þider come.
Mani was þe gentil kniȝt
Þat wiþ hem went þo riȝt.
To Loreyne þai ben comen, y-wis:
Þe douke hem vnderfeng wiþ blis.
Wiþ him þai were acorded alle,
& þe misdede forȝeuen snelle.
Gret joie þai maden in þe cite
Þat hij so fair acorded be.
Þe douk ȝaf Tirri his douhter þo,
And half his lond wiþ hir also,
Bifor barouns & kniȝtes fre,
Þat þer were of mani cuntre:
Bridal sone þai han y-hold:
Of erls, & of barouns bold,
& of emperours, & of king
Nas neuer non so riche gestening.

Þe kniȝtes nomen her leue anon,
Vnto her cuntres þai ben y-gon:
Sir Gij soiournd þare.
On a day he is þennes y-fare:
Þe douk Loer & mani a man
In hunting þai were toward Braban;
On hunting went þerl Tirri
& mani in his compeynie.
Þai comen into a fair forest,
Þer þai fond a bore, a wilde best.
Þai vncoupled her houndes alle,
& lete hem ern swiþ snelle.
Þe bore fleing swiþe he geþ,
& mani of þe houndes harme he deþ:
An hundred he slouȝ and mo,
Out of þat cuntre he is sone y-go.
Þe wisest hunt folweþ fast,
Huweþ & gredeþ wiþ gret blast.
Sone he worþ in a peril strong,
Be it wiþ riȝt, be it wiþ wrong.
Þo Gij hadde opened þat swine snelle
He gan to blowe as y ȝou telle.
‘Bi god,’ quaþ þerl Florentin,
‘Who mai þat be, for seyn Martin,
Þat ich here in mi forest blowe?
Hert oþer bore he haþ doun þrowe.’
He cleped to him a kniȝt ȝing,
His sone he was, a feir ȝongling.
‘Sone,’ he seyd, ‘to hors þou go,
& who so it be, bring him me to.’
‘Sir, y graunt þat it be so.’
Anon he lepe on hors þo:
Into þe forest he is y-fare,
& Gij he fond ful sone þare.
An staf he bar of holin tre:
Gret wo þer-wiþ wrouȝt he.
‘Lording,’ he seyd, ‘who artow
In mi lordes forest is comen now
Wiþ-outen leue of mi lord?
In iuel time þou come, at o word:
When þou hast y-nomen his swin
No leue haddestow of him.
Þat hors anon þou take to me,
Þer-on no schaltow ride, y telle þe.’
‘Leue frende,’ quaþ Gij, ‘þat nille y do.
Þat hors no tit þe, so mot y go.
Kniȝtes riȝt is it non
Þat he schuld fer o fot gon.
To þi wille ichil wende wiþ þe,
To seche þe waiis of þis cuntre.
Þis horn þou miȝt wele haue,
And tow wiþ loue it wille craue.’