Guy of Warwick :: :: University of Virginia Library

Collapse All | Expand All expand section

It was at þe holy trinite,
Þerl dubbed sir Gij þe fre,
& wiþ him tventi god gomis,
Kniȝtes and riche baroun sonis.
Of cloth of Tars & riche cendel
Was he[r] dobbeing euerich a del;

Þe panis al of fow & griis,
Þe mantels weren of michel priis,
Wiþ riche armour & gode stedes,
Þe best þat wer in lond at nedis.
Alder-best was Gij y-diȝt,
Þei he wer an emperour sone, apliȝt:
So richeliche dobbed was he,
Nas no swiche in þis cuntre;
Wiþ riche stedes wele erninde,
Palfreys, coursours wele bereinde.
No was þer noiþer sweyn no knaue,
Þat ouȝt failed þat he schuld haue.

Now is sir Gij dobbed to kniȝt;
Feir he was and michel of miȝt.
To Felice went sir Gij,
& gret hir wel curteyslie,
& seyd, ‘ichaue don astow seydest me to,
For þe ichaue suffred miche wo:

Arme for þe ichaue vnder-fong,
Þe to se me þouȝt long.
Þou art me boþe leue & dere,
Ich am y-comen þi wille to here.’

‘Gij,’ seyd Felice, ‘heye þe nouȝt:
Ȝete hastow no þing of armes y-wrouȝt.
No artow þe better neuer a del
Þan þou wer ere, y say þe wel,
Bot on þatow [hast] newe dobing,
& art cleped kniȝt wiþ-outen lesing;

Bot it be þurch þi miȝt,
Þou no miȝt chalang loue þurch riȝt.’