 | Breton Lays |  |
3
Sir Launfal
Be doughty Artours dawes
That held Engelond yn good lawes
Ther fell a wondyr cas
Of a ley that was ysette
That hyght Launval, and hatte yette;
Now herkeneth how hyt was.
That held Engelond yn good lawes
Ther fell a wondyr cas
Of a ley that was ysette
That hyght Launval, and hatte yette;
Now herkeneth how hyt was.
Doughty Artour somwhyle
Sojournede yn Kardeuyle
Wyth joye and greet solas
And knyghtes that wer profitable;
Wyth Artour of the Rounde Table
Never noon better ther nas:
Sojournede yn Kardeuyle
Wyth joye and greet solas
And knyghtes that wer profitable;
Wyth Artour of the Rounde Table
Never noon better ther nas:
Sere Persevall and Syr Gawayn,
Syr Gyheryes and Syr Agrafrayn,
And Launcelet du Lake;
Syr Kay and Syr Ewayn,
That well couthe fyghte yn playn,
Bateles for to take;
Syr Gyheryes and Syr Agrafrayn,
And Launcelet du Lake;
Syr Kay and Syr Ewayn,
That well couthe fyghte yn playn,
Bateles for to take;
Kyng Banbooght and Kyn Bos
(Of ham ther was a greet los,
Men sawe tho nowher her make);
Syr Galafre and Syr Launfale,
Whereof a noble tale
Among us schall awake.
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Men sawe tho nowher her make);
Syr Galafre and Syr Launfale,
Whereof a noble tale
Among us schall awake.
With Artour ther was a bacheler,
And hadde ybe well many a yer;
Launfal forsoth he hyght;
He gaf gyftys largelyche,
Gold and sylver, and clothes ryche,
To squyer and to knyght.
And hadde ybe well many a yer;
Launfal forsoth he hyght;
He gaf gyftys largelyche,
Gold and sylver, and clothes ryche,
To squyer and to knyght.
For hys largesse and hys bounté,
The kynges stuward made was he
Ten yer, Y you plyght;
Of alle the knyghtes of the Table Rounde
So large ther nas noon yfounde,
Be dayes ne be nyght.
The kynges stuward made was he
Ten yer, Y you plyght;
Of alle the knyghtes of the Table Rounde
So large ther nas noon yfounde,
Be dayes ne be nyght.
So hyt befyll yn the tenthe yer
Marlyn was Artours counsalere;
He radde hym for to wende
To Kyng Ryon of Irlond ryght,
And fette hym ther a lady bryght,
Gwennere, hys doughtyr hende.
Marlyn was Artours counsalere;
He radde hym for to wende
To Kyng Ryon of Irlond ryght,
And fette hym ther a lady bryght,
Gwennere, hys doughtyr hende.
So he dede, and hom her brought,
But Syr Launfal lykede her noght,
Ne other knyghtes that wer hende;
For the lady bar los of swych word
That sche hadde lemannys under her lord
So fele ther nas noon ende.
But Syr Launfal lykede her noght,
Ne other knyghtes that wer hende;
For the lady bar los of swych word
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So fele ther nas noon ende.
They wer ywedded, as Y you say,
Upon a Wytsonday
Before princes of moch pryde;
No man ne may telle yn tale
What folk ther was at that bredale
Of countreys fer and wyde.
Upon a Wytsonday
Before princes of moch pryde;
No man ne may telle yn tale
What folk ther was at that bredale
Of countreys fer and wyde.
No nother man was yn halle ysette
But he wer prelat other baronette.
In herte ys naght to hyde:
Yf they satte noght alle ylyke,
Har servyse was good and ryche,
Certeyn yn ech a syde.
But he wer prelat other baronette.
In herte ys naght to hyde:
Yf they satte noght alle ylyke,
Har servyse was good and ryche,
Certeyn yn ech a syde.
And whan the lordes hadde ete yn the halle,
And the clothes wer drawen alle—
As ye mowe her and lythe—
The botelers sentyn wyn
To alle the lordes that wer theryn,
Wyth chere bothe glad and blythe.
And the clothes wer drawen alle—
As ye mowe her and lythe—
The botelers sentyn wyn
To alle the lordes that wer theryn,
Wyth chere bothe glad and blythe.
The quene yaf gyftes for the nones,
Gold and selver and precyous stonys,
Her curtasye to kythe;
Everych knyght sche yaf broche other ryng,
But Syr Launfal sche yaf no thyng:
That grevede hym many a sythe.
Gold and selver and precyous stonys,
Her curtasye to kythe;
Everych knyght sche yaf broche other ryng,
But Syr Launfal sche yaf no thyng:
That grevede hym many a sythe.
6
And whan the bredale was at ende,
Launfal tok hys leve to wende
At Artour the kyng,
And seyde a lettere was to hym come
That deth hadde hys fadyr ynome:
He most to hys beryynge.
Launfal tok hys leve to wende
At Artour the kyng,
And seyde a lettere was to hym come
That deth hadde hys fadyr ynome:
He most to hys beryynge.
Tho seyde Kyng Artour, that was hende,
“Launfal, yf thou wylt fro me wende,
Tak wyth the greet spendyng;
And my suster sones two,
Bothe they schull wyth the go,
At hom the for to bryng.”
“Launfal, yf thou wylt fro me wende,
Tak wyth the greet spendyng;
And my suster sones two,
Bothe they schull wyth the go,
At hom the for to bryng.”
Launfal tok leve, wythoute fable,
Wyth knyghtes of the Rounde Table,
And wente forth yn hys journé
Tyl he com to Karlyoun,
To the Meyrys hous of the toune,
Hys servaunt that hadde ybe.
Wyth knyghtes of the Rounde Table,
And wente forth yn hys journé
Tyl he com to Karlyoun,
To the Meyrys hous of the toune,
Hys servaunt that hadde ybe.
The Meyr stod, as ye may here,
And sawe hym come ryde up anblere
Wyth two knyghtes and other mayné;
Agayns hym he hath wey ynome,
And seyde, “Syr, thou art wellcome;
How faryth our kyng, tel me?”
And sawe hym come ryde up anblere
Wyth two knyghtes and other mayné;
Agayns hym he hath wey ynome,
And seyde, “Syr, thou art wellcome;
How faryth our kyng, tel me?”
Launfal answerede and seyde than:
“He faryth as well as any man,
And elles greet ruthe hyt wore.
But, Syr Meyr, wythout lesyng,
I am departyd fram the kyng,
And that rewyth me sore;
“He faryth as well as any man,
And elles greet ruthe hyt wore.
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I am departyd fram the kyng,
And that rewyth me sore;
Nether thar no man, benethe ne above,
For the Kyng Artours love,
Onowre me nevermore.
But, Syr Meyr, Y pray the, par amour,
May Y take wyth the sojour?
Somtyme we knewe us yore.”
For the Kyng Artours love,
Onowre me nevermore.
But, Syr Meyr, Y pray the, par amour,
May Y take wyth the sojour?
Somtyme we knewe us yore.”
The Meyr stod and bethought hym there
What myght be hys answere,
And to hym than gan he sayn:
“Syr, seven knyghtes han her har in ynom[e],
And ever Y wayte whan they wyl come,
That arn of Lytyll Bretayne.”
What myght be hys answere,
And to hym than gan he sayn:
“Syr, seven knyghtes han her har in ynom[e],
And ever Y wayte whan they wyl come,
That arn of Lytyll Bretayne.”
Launfal turnede hymself and lowgh,
Thereof he hadde scorn inowgh,
And seyde to hys knyghtes tweyne:
“Now may ye se, swych ys service
Under a lord of lytyll pryse—
How he may therof be fayn!”
Thereof he hadde scorn inowgh,
And seyde to hys knyghtes tweyne:
“Now may ye se, swych ys service
Under a lord of lytyll pryse—
How he may therof be fayn!”
Launfal awayward gan to ryde;
The Meyr bad he schuld abyde,
And seyde yn thys manere:
“Syr, yn a chamber by my orchard-syd[e],
Ther may ye dwelle wyth joye and pryde,
Yyf hyt your wyll were.”
The Meyr bad he schuld abyde,
And seyde yn thys manere:
“Syr, yn a chamber by my orchard-syd[e],
8
Yyf hyt your wyll were.”
Launfal anoon ryghtes,
He and hys two knytes,
Sojournede ther yn fere;
So savagelych hys good he besette
That he ward yn greet dette,
Ryght yn the ferst yere.
He and hys two knytes,
Sojournede ther yn fere;
So savagelych hys good he besette
That he ward yn greet dette,
Ryght yn the ferst yere.
So hyt befell at Pentecost—
Swych tyme as the Holy Gost
Among mankend gan lyght—
That Syr Huwe and Syr Jon
Tok her leve for to gon
At Syr Launfal the knyght.
Swych tyme as the Holy Gost
Among mankend gan lyght—
That Syr Huwe and Syr Jon
Tok her leve for to gon
At Syr Launfal the knyght.
They seyd, “Syr, our robes beth torent,
And your tresour ys all yspent,
And we goth ewyll ydyght.”
Thanne seyde Syr Launfal to the knyghtes fr[e]:
“Tellyth no man of my poverté,
For the love of God almyght!”
And your tresour ys all yspent,
And we goth ewyll ydyght.”
Thanne seyde Syr Launfal to the knyghtes fr[e]:
“Tellyth no man of my poverté,
For the love of God almyght!”
The knyghtes answerede and seyde tho
That they nolde hym wreye never mo,
All thys world to wynne.
Wyth that word they wente hym fro
To Glastynbery, bothe two,
Ther Kyng Artour was inne.
That they nolde hym wreye never mo,
All thys world to wynne.
Wyth that word they wente hym fro
To Glastynbery, bothe two,
Ther Kyng Artour was inne.
The kyng sawe the knyghtes hende,
And agens ham he gan wende,
For they wer of hys kenne;
Noon other robes they ne hadde
Than they owt with ham ladde,
And tho were totore and thynne.
And agens ham he gan wende,
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Noon other robes they ne hadde
Than they owt with ham ladde,
And tho were totore and thynne.
Than seyde Quene Gwenore, that was fel:
“How faryth the prowde knyght, Launfal?
May he hys armes welde?”
“Ye, madame,” sayde the knytes than;
“He faryth as well as any man,
And ellys God hyt schelde!”
“How faryth the prowde knyght, Launfal?
May he hys armes welde?”
“Ye, madame,” sayde the knytes than;
“He faryth as well as any man,
And ellys God hyt schelde!”
Moche worchyp and greet honour
To Gonnore the quene and Kyng Artour
Of Syr Launfal they telde,
And seyde, “He lovede us so
That he wold us evermo
At wyll have yhelde;
To Gonnore the quene and Kyng Artour
Of Syr Launfal they telde,
And seyde, “He lovede us so
That he wold us evermo
At wyll have yhelde;
But upon a rayny day hyt befel
An huntynge wente Syr Launfel,
To chasy yn holtes hore;
In our old robes we yede that day,
And thus we beth ywent away
As we before hym wore.”
An huntynge wente Syr Launfel,
To chasy yn holtes hore;
In our old robes we yede that day,
And thus we beth ywent away
As we before hym wore.”
Glad was Artour the kyng
That Launfal was yn good lykyng;
The quene hyt rew well sore,
For sche wold wyth all her myght
That he hadde be, bothe day and nyght,
In paynys more and more.
That Launfal was yn good lykyng;
The quene hyt rew well sore,
For sche wold wyth all her myght
10
In paynys more and more.
Upon a day of the Trinité,
A feste of greet solempnité
In Carlyoun was holde;
Erles and barones of that countré,
Ladyes and boriaes of that cité,
Thyder come bothe yongh and old.
A feste of greet solempnité
In Carlyoun was holde;
Erles and barones of that countré,
Ladyes and boriaes of that cité,
Thyder come bothe yongh and old.
But Launfal, for hys poverté,
Was not bede to that semblé:
Lyte men of hym tolde.
The Meyr to the feste was ofsent;
The Meyrys doughter to Launfal went,
And axede yf he wolde
Was not bede to that semblé:
Lyte men of hym tolde.
The Meyr to the feste was ofsent;
The Meyrys doughter to Launfal went,
And axede yf he wolde
In halle dyne wyth her that day.
“Damesele,” he sayde, “nay;
To dyne have Y no herte.
Thre days ther ben agon,
Mete ne drynke eet Y noon,
And all was for povert.
“Damesele,” he sayde, “nay;
To dyne have Y no herte.
Thre days ther ben agon,
Mete ne drynke eet Y noon,
And all was for povert.
Today to cherche Y wolde have gon,
But me fawtede hosyn and schon,
Clenly brech and scherte;
And for defawte of clothynge
Ne myghte Y yn wyth the peple thrynge;
No wonder though me smerte!
But me fawtede hosyn and schon,
Clenly brech and scherte;
And for defawte of clothynge
Ne myghte Y yn wyth the peple thrynge;
No wonder though me smerte!
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But o thyng, damesele, Y pray the,
Sadel and brydel lene thou me
A whyle for to ryde,
That Y myght confortede be
By a launde under thys cyté
Al yn thys undern-tyde.”
Sadel and brydel lene thou me
A whyle for to ryde,
That Y myght confortede be
By a launde under thys cyté
Al yn thys undern-tyde.”
Launfal dyghte hys courser
Wythoute knave other squyer;
He rood wyth lytyll pryde;
Hys horse slod and fel yn the fen,
Wherefore hym scorned many men
Abowte hym fer and wyde.
Wythoute knave other squyer;
He rood wyth lytyll pryde;
Hys horse slod and fel yn the fen,
Wherefore hym scorned many men
Abowte hym fer and wyde.
Poverly the knyght to hors gan sprynge;
For to dryve away lokynge
He rood toward the west.
The wether was hot, the undern-tyde;
He lyghte adoun and gan abyde,
Under a fayr forest.
For to dryve away lokynge
He rood toward the west.
The wether was hot, the undern-tyde;
He lyghte adoun and gan abyde,
Under a fayr forest.
And for hete of the wedere,
Hys mantell he feld togydere,
And sette hym doun to reste.
Thus sat the knyght yn symplyté
In the schadwe under a tre
Ther that hym lykede best.
Hys mantell he feld togydere,
And sette hym doun to reste.
Thus sat the knyght yn symplyté
In the schadwe under a tre
Ther that hym lykede best.
As he sat yn sorow and sore,
He sawe come out of holtes hore
Gentyll maydenes two;
Har kerteles wer of Inde-sandel,
Ilased smalle, jolyf, and well;
Ther myght noon gayer go.
He sawe come out of holtes hore
Gentyll maydenes two;
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Ilased smalle, jolyf, and well;
Ther myght noon gayer go.
Har manteles wer of grene felwet,
Ybordured wyth gold, ryght well ysette,
Ipelvred wyth grys and gro;
Har heddys wer dyght well wythalle:
Everych hadde oon a jolyf coronall
Wyth syxty gemmys and mo.
Ybordured wyth gold, ryght well ysette,
Ipelvred wyth grys and gro;
Har heddys wer dyght well wythalle:
Everych hadde oon a jolyf coronall
Wyth syxty gemmys and mo.
Har faces wer whyt as snow on downe;
Har rode was red, her eyn wer browne:
I sawe never non swyche!
That oon bar of gold a basyn;
That other a towayle whyt and fyn,
Of selk that was good and ryche.
Har rode was red, her eyn wer browne:
I sawe never non swyche!
That oon bar of gold a basyn;
That other a towayle whyt and fyn,
Of selk that was good and ryche.
Har kercheves wer well schyre,
Arayd wyth ryche gold wyre;
Launfal began to syche.
They com to hym over the hoth;
He was curteys and agens hem goth
And greette hem myldelyche.
Arayd wyth ryche gold wyre;
Launfal began to syche.
They com to hym over the hoth;
He was curteys and agens hem goth
And greette hem myldelyche.
“Damesels,” he seyde, “God yow se!”
“Syr Knyght,” they seyde, “well the be!
Our lady, Dame Tryamour,
Bad thou schuldest com speke wyth here,
Yyf hyt wer thy wylle, sere,
Wythoute more sojour.”
“Syr Knyght,” they seyde, “well the be!
Our lady, Dame Tryamour,
Bad thou schuldest com speke wyth here,
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Wythoute more sojour.”
Launfal hem grauntede curteyslyche,
And wente wyth hem myldelyche;
They wheryn whyt as flour;
And when they come in the forest an hygh,
A pavyloun yteld he sygh,
Wyth merthe and mochell honour.
And wente wyth hem myldelyche;
They wheryn whyt as flour;
And when they come in the forest an hygh,
A pavyloun yteld he sygh,
Wyth merthe and mochell honour.
The pavyloun was wrouth, for sothe, ywys,
All of werk of Sarsynys:
The pomelles of crystall;
Upon the toppe an ern ther stod
Of bournede gold, ryche and good,
Iflorysched wyth ryche amall;
All of werk of Sarsynys:
The pomelles of crystall;
Upon the toppe an ern ther stod
Of bournede gold, ryche and good,
Iflorysched wyth ryche amall;
Hys eyn wer carbonkeles bryght—
As the mone they schon a-nyght,
That spreteth out ovyr all;
Alysaundre the Conquerour,
Ne Kyng Artour, yn hys most honour,
Ne hadde noon scwych juell.
As the mone they schon a-nyght,
That spreteth out ovyr all;
Alysaundre the Conquerour,
Ne Kyng Artour, yn hys most honour,
Ne hadde noon scwych juell.
He fond yn the pavyloun
The kynges doughter of Olyroun,
Dame Tryamour that hyghte;
Her fadyr was kyng of fayrye,
Of occient, fer and nyghe,
A man of mochell myghte.
The kynges doughter of Olyroun,
Dame Tryamour that hyghte;
Her fadyr was kyng of fayrye,
Of occient, fer and nyghe,
A man of mochell myghte.
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In the pavyloun he fond a bed of prys,
Yheled wyth purpur bys,
That semylé was of syghte;
Therinne lay that lady gent
That after Syr Launfal hedde ysent—
That lefsom lemede bryght.
Yheled wyth purpur bys,
That semylé was of syghte;
Therinne lay that lady gent
That after Syr Launfal hedde ysent—
That lefsom lemede bryght.
For hete her clothes down sche dede
Almest to her gerdyl-stede,
Than lay sche uncovert;
Sche was as whyt as lylye yn May,
Or sno that sneweth yn wynterys day;
He seygh never non so pert.
Almest to her gerdyl-stede,
Than lay sche uncovert;
Sche was as whyt as lylye yn May,
Or sno that sneweth yn wynterys day;
He seygh never non so pert.
The rede rose, whan sche ys newe,
Agens her rode nes naught of hewe,
I dar well say, yn sert;
Her here schon as gold wyre;
May no man rede here atyre,
Ne naught well thenke yn hert.
Agens her rode nes naught of hewe,
I dar well say, yn sert;
Her here schon as gold wyre;
May no man rede here atyre,
Ne naught well thenke yn hert.
Sche seyde, “Launfal, my lemman swete,
Al my joye for the Y lete,
Swetyng paramour!
Ther nys no man yn Cristenté
That Y love so moche as the,
Kyng neyther empourer!”
Al my joye for the Y lete,
Swetyng paramour!
Ther nys no man yn Cristenté
That Y love so moche as the,
Kyng neyther empourer!”
Launfal beheld that swete wyghth
(All hys love yn her was lyghth),
And keste that swete flour,
And sat adoun her bysyde,
And seyde, “Swetyng, what so betyde,
I am to thyn honour.”
(All hys love yn her was lyghth),
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And sat adoun her bysyde,
And seyde, “Swetyng, what so betyde,
I am to thyn honour.”
She seyde, “Syr knyght, gentyl and hende,
I wot thy stat, ord and ende;
Be naught aschamed of me;
Yf thou wylt truly to me take,
And alle wemen for me forsake,
Ryche I wyll make the.
I wot thy stat, ord and ende;
Be naught aschamed of me;
Yf thou wylt truly to me take,
And alle wemen for me forsake,
Ryche I wyll make the.
I wyll the geve an alner
Imad of sylk and of gold cler,
Wyth fayre ymages thre;
As oft thou puttest the hond therinne,
A mark of gold thou schalt wynne,
In wat place that thou be.
Imad of sylk and of gold cler,
Wyth fayre ymages thre;
As oft thou puttest the hond therinne,
A mark of gold thou schalt wynne,
In wat place that thou be.
Also,” sche seyde, “Syr Launfal,
I geve the Blaunchard, my stede lel,
And Gyfre, my owen knave;
And of my armes oo pensel
Wyth thre ermyns ypeynted well,
Also thou schalt have.
I geve the Blaunchard, my stede lel,
And Gyfre, my owen knave;
And of my armes oo pensel
Wyth thre ermyns ypeynted well,
Also thou schalt have.
In werre ne yn turnement
Ne schall the greve no knyghtes dent
So well Y schall the save.”
Than answarede the gantyl knyght,
And seyde, “Gramarcy, my swete wyght,
No bettere klepte Y have.”
Ne schall the greve no knyghtes dent
So well Y schall the save.”
Than answarede the gantyl knyght,
16
No bettere klepte Y have.”
The damesell gan her up sette,
And bad her maydenes her fette
To hyr hondys watyr clere;
Hyt was ydo wythout lette:
The cloth was spred, the bord was sette,
They wente to hare sopere.
And bad her maydenes her fette
To hyr hondys watyr clere;
Hyt was ydo wythout lette:
The cloth was spred, the bord was sette,
They wente to hare sopere.
Mete and drynk they hadde afyn,
Pyement, clare, and Reynysch wyn,
And elles greet wondyr hyt wer;
Whan they had sowped, and the day was gon,
They wente to bedde, and that anoon,
Launfal and sche yn fere.
Pyement, clare, and Reynysch wyn,
And elles greet wondyr hyt wer;
Whan they had sowped, and the day was gon,
They wente to bedde, and that anoon,
Launfal and sche yn fere.
For play lytyll they sclepte that nyght,
Tyll on morn hyt was daylyght;
She badd hym aryse anoon.
Hy seyde to hym, “Syr gantyl knyght,
And thou wylt speke wyth me any wyght,
To a derne stede thou gon;
Tyll on morn hyt was daylyght;
She badd hym aryse anoon.
Hy seyde to hym, “Syr gantyl knyght,
And thou wylt speke wyth me any wyght,
To a derne stede thou gon;
Well privyly I woll come to the
(No man alyve ne schall me se)
As stylle as any ston.”
Tho was Launfal glad and blythe;
He cowde no man hys joye kythe,
And keste her well good won.
(No man alyve ne schall me se)
As stylle as any ston.”
Tho was Launfal glad and blythe;
He cowde no man hys joye kythe,
And keste her well good won.
17
“But of o thyng, Syr Knyght, I warne the,
That thou make no bost of me
For no kennes mede;
And yf thou doost, Y warny the before:
All my love thou hast forlore!”
And thus to hym sche seyde.
That thou make no bost of me
For no kennes mede;
And yf thou doost, Y warny the before:
All my love thou hast forlore!”
And thus to hym sche seyde.
Launfal tok hys leve to wende;
Gyfre kedde that he was hende,
And brought Launfal hys stede;
Launfal lepte ynto the arsoun
And rood hom to Karlyoun
In hys pover wede.
Gyfre kedde that he was hende,
And brought Launfal hys stede;
Launfal lepte ynto the arsoun
And rood hom to Karlyoun
In hys pover wede.
Tho was the knyght yn herte at wylle;
In hys chanber he hyld hym stylle
All that undern-tyde;
Than come ther thorwgh the cyté ten
Well yharneysyd men
Upon ten somers ryde;
In hys chanber he hyld hym stylle
All that undern-tyde;
Than come ther thorwgh the cyté ten
Well yharneysyd men
Upon ten somers ryde;
Some wyth sylver, some wyth gold—
All to Syr Launfal hyt schold.
To presente hym wyth pryde
Wyth ryche clothes and armure bryght,
They axede after Launfal the knyght,
Whar he gan abyde.
All to Syr Launfal hyt schold.
To presente hym wyth pryde
Wyth ryche clothes and armure bryght,
They axede after Launfal the knyght,
Whar he gan abyde.
The yong men wer clothed yn ynde;
Gyfre, he rood all behynde
Up Blaunchard, whyt as flour.
Tho seyde a boy that yn the market stod:
“How fer schall all thys good?
Tell us, par amour!”
Gyfre, he rood all behynde
Up Blaunchard, whyt as flour.
Tho seyde a boy that yn the market stod:
18
Tell us, par amour!”
Tho seyde Gyfre, “Hyt ys ysent
To Syr Launfal, yn present,
That hath leved yn greet dolour.”
Than seyde the boy, “Nys he but a wrecche!
What thar any man of hym recce?
At the Meyrys hous he taketh sojour.”
To Syr Launfal, yn present,
That hath leved yn greet dolour.”
Than seyde the boy, “Nys he but a wrecche!
What thar any man of hym recce?
At the Meyrys hous he taketh sojour.”
At the Merys hous they gon alyght,
And presented the noble knyghte
Wyth swych good as hym was sent;
And whan the Meyr seygh that rychesse,
And Syr Launfals noblenesse,
He held hymself foule yschent.
And presented the noble knyghte
Wyth swych good as hym was sent;
And whan the Meyr seygh that rychesse,
And Syr Launfals noblenesse,
He held hymself foule yschent.
Tho seyde the Meyr, “Syr, par charyté,
In halle today that thou wylt ete wyth me.
Yesterday Y hadde yment
At the feste we wold han be yn same
And yhadde solas and game;
And erst thou were ywent.”
In halle today that thou wylt ete wyth me.
Yesterday Y hadde yment
At the feste we wold han be yn same
And yhadde solas and game;
And erst thou were ywent.”
“Syr Meyr, God foryelde the!
Whyles Y was yn my poverté,
Thou bede me never dyne;
Now Y have more gold and fe,
That myne frendes han sent me,
Than thou and alle thyne!”
Whyles Y was yn my poverté,
Thou bede me never dyne;
Now Y have more gold and fe,
That myne frendes han sent me,
Than thou and alle thyne!”
19
The Meyr for schame away yede;
Launfal yn purpure gan hym schrede,
Ipelvred wyth whyt ermyne.
All that Launfal had borwyd before,
Gyfre, be tayle and be score,
Yald hyt well and fyne.
Launfal yn purpure gan hym schrede,
Ipelvred wyth whyt ermyne.
All that Launfal had borwyd before,
Gyfre, be tayle and be score,
Yald hyt well and fyne.
Launfal helde ryche festes:
Fyfty fedde povere gestes
That yn myschef wer;
Fyfty boughte stronge stedes;
Fyfty yaf ryche wedes
To knyghtes and squyere;
Fyfty fedde povere gestes
That yn myschef wer;
Fyfty boughte stronge stedes;
Fyfty yaf ryche wedes
To knyghtes and squyere;
Fyfty rewardede relygyons;
Fyfty delyverede povere prisouns,
And made ham quyt and schere;
Fyfty clothede gestours—
To many men he dede honours
In countreys fer and nere.
Fyfty delyverede povere prisouns,
And made ham quyt and schere;
Fyfty clothede gestours—
To many men he dede honours
In countreys fer and nere.
Alle the lordes of Karlyoun
Lette crye a turnement yn the toun,
For love of Syr Launfal,
And for Blaunchard, hys good stede,
To wyte how hym wold spede
That was ymade so well.
Lette crye a turnement yn the toun,
For love of Syr Launfal,
And for Blaunchard, hys good stede,
To wyte how hym wold spede
That was ymade so well.
And whan the day was ycome
That the justes were yn ynome,
They ryde out al so snell;
Trompours gon har bemes blowe;
The lordes ryden out a-rowe
That were yn that castell.
That the justes were yn ynome,
They ryde out al so snell;
20
The lordes ryden out a-rowe
That were yn that castell.
Ther began the turnement,
And ech knyght leyd on other good dent
Wyth mases and wyth swerdes bothe;
Me myghte yse some, therefore,
Stedes ywonne, and some ylore,
And knyghtes wonder wroth.
And ech knyght leyd on other good dent
Wyth mases and wyth swerdes bothe;
Me myghte yse some, therefore,
Stedes ywonne, and some ylore,
And knyghtes wonder wroth.
Syth the Rounde Table was,
A bettere turnement ther nas,
I dar well say, for sothe.
Many a lorde of Karlyoun
That day were ybore adoun,
Certayn, wythouten othe.
A bettere turnement ther nas,
I dar well say, for sothe.
Many a lorde of Karlyoun
That day were ybore adoun,
Certayn, wythouten othe.
Of Karlyoun the ryche constable
Rod to Launfal, wythout fable;
He nolde no lengere abyde;
He smot to Launfal, and he to hym;
Well sterne strokes, and well grym,
There wer yn eche a syde.
Rod to Launfal, wythout fable;
He nolde no lengere abyde;
He smot to Launfal, and he to hym;
Well sterne strokes, and well grym,
There wer yn eche a syde.
Launfal was of hym yware;
Out of hys sadell he hym bar
To grounde that ylke tyde;
And whan the constable was bore adoun,
Gyfre lepte ynto the arsoun,
And awey he gan to ryde.
Out of hys sadell he hym bar
To grounde that ylke tyde;
And whan the constable was bore adoun,
Gyfre lepte ynto the arsoun,
And awey he gan to ryde.
21
The Erl of Chestere therof segh;
For wrethe yn herte he was wod negh,
And rood to Syr Launfale,
And smot hym yn the helm on hegh
That the crest adoun flegh—
Thus seyd the Frenssch tale;
For wrethe yn herte he was wod negh,
And rood to Syr Launfale,
And smot hym yn the helm on hegh
That the crest adoun flegh—
Thus seyd the Frenssch tale;
Launfal was mochel of myght;
Of hys stede he dede hym lyght,
And bar hym doun yn the dale.
Than come ther Syr Launfal abowte
Of Walssche knyghtes a greet rowte,
The number Y not how fale.
Of hys stede he dede hym lyght,
And bar hym doun yn the dale.
Than come ther Syr Launfal abowte
Of Walssche knyghtes a greet rowte,
The number Y not how fale.
Than myghte me se scheldes ryve,
Speres to-breste and to-dryve,
Behynde and ek before;
Thorugh Launfal and hys stedes dent,
Many a knyght, verement,
To ground was ibore.
Speres to-breste and to-dryve,
Behynde and ek before;
Thorugh Launfal and hys stedes dent,
Many a knyght, verement,
To ground was ibore.
So the prys of that turnay
Was delyvered to Launfal that day,
Wythout oath yswore.
Launfal rod to Karl[youn]
To the Meyrys hous [of] the toun,
And many a lorde hym before.
Was delyvered to Launfal that day,
Wythout oath yswore.
Launfal rod to Karl[youn]
To the Meyrys hous [of] the toun,
And many a lorde hym before.
And than the noble knyght Launfal
Held a feste, ryche and ryall,
That leste fourtenyght;
Erles and barouns fale
Semely wer sette yn sale,
And ryaly were adyght.
Held a feste, ryche and ryall,
22
Erles and barouns fale
Semely wer sette yn sale,
And ryaly were adyght.
And every day Dame Triamour,
Sche com to Syr Launfal bour
Aday whan hyt was nyght;
Of all that ever wer ther tho,
Segh her non but they two—
Gyfre and Launfal the knyght.
Sche com to Syr Launfal bour
Aday whan hyt was nyght;
Of all that ever wer ther tho,
Segh her non but they two—
Gyfre and Launfal the knyght.
A knyght there was yn Lumbardye;
To Syr Launfal hadde he greet envye;
Syr Valentyne he hyghte.
He herde speke of Syr Launfal
That he couth justy well
And was a man of mochel myghte.
To Syr Launfal hadde he greet envye;
Syr Valentyne he hyghte.
He herde speke of Syr Launfal
That he couth justy well
And was a man of mochel myghte.
Syr Valentyne was wonder strong;
Fyftene feet he was longe:
Hym thoughte he brente bryghte
But he myghte wyth Launfal pleye
In the feld, betwene ham tweye
To justy, other to fyghte.
Fyftene feet he was longe:
Hym thoughte he brente bryghte
But he myghte wyth Launfal pleye
In the feld, betwene ham tweye
To justy, other to fyghte.
Syr Valentyne sat yn hys halle;
Hys massengere he let ycalle,
And seyde he moste wende
To Syr Launfal the noble knyght,
That was yholde so mychel of myght:
To Bretayne he wolde hym sende;
Hys massengere he let ycalle,
And seyde he moste wende
To Syr Launfal the noble knyght,
23
To Bretayne he wolde hym sende;
“And sey hym, for the love of hys lemman—
Yf sche be any gantyle woman,
Courteys, fre, other hende—
That he come wyth me to juste
To kepe hys harneys from the ruste,
And elles hys manhod schende.”
Yf sche be any gantyle woman,
Courteys, fre, other hende—
That he come wyth me to juste
To kepe hys harneys from the ruste,
And elles hys manhod schende.”
The messenger ys forth ywent
To do hys lordys commaundement;
He hadde wynde at wylle.
Whan he was over the water ycome,
The way to Syr Launfal he hath ynome,
And grette hym wyth wordes stylle,
To do hys lordys commaundement;
He hadde wynde at wylle.
Whan he was over the water ycome,
The way to Syr Launfal he hath ynome,
And grette hym wyth wordes stylle,
And seyd, “Syr, my lord, Syr Valentyne,
A noble werrour, and queynte of gynne,
Hath me sent the tylle,
And prayth the, for thy lemmanes sake,
Thou schuldest wyth hym justes take.”
Tho lough Launfal full stylle,
A noble werrour, and queynte of gynne,
Hath me sent the tylle,
And prayth the, for thy lemmanes sake,
Thou schuldest wyth hym justes take.”
Tho lough Launfal full stylle,
And seyde, as he was gentyl knyght,
Thylke day a fourtenyght
He wold wyth hym play.
He yaf the messenger, for that tydyng,
A noble courser and a ryng,
And a robe of ray.
Thylke day a fourtenyght
He wold wyth hym play.
He yaf the messenger, for that tydyng,
A noble courser and a ryng,
And a robe of ray.
24
Launfal tok leve at Triamour,
That was the bryght berde yn bour,
And keste that swete may.
Thanne seyde that swete wyght:
“Dreed the nothyng, Syr gentyl knyght,
Thou schalt hym sle that day.”
That was the bryght berde yn bour,
And keste that swete may.
Thanne seyde that swete wyght:
“Dreed the nothyng, Syr gentyl knyght,
Thou schalt hym sle that day.”
Launfal nolde nothyng wyth hym have
But Blaunchard hys stede and Gyfre hys kna[ve],
Of all hys fayr mayné.
He schypede and hadde wynd well good,
And wente over the salte flod
Into Lumbardye.
But Blaunchard hys stede and Gyfre hys kna[ve],
Of all hys fayr mayné.
He schypede and hadde wynd well good,
And wente over the salte flod
Into Lumbardye.
Whan he was over the water ycome,
Ther the justes schulde be nome,
In the cité of Atalye,
Syr Valentyne hadde a greet ost,
And Syr Launfal abatede her bost
Wyth lytyll companye.
Ther the justes schulde be nome,
In the cité of Atalye,
Syr Valentyne hadde a greet ost,
And Syr Launfal abatede her bost
Wyth lytyll companye.
And whan Syr Launfal was ydyght
Upon Blaunchard, hys stede lyght,
Wyth helm and spere and schelde,
All that sawe hym yn armes bryght
Seyde they sawe never swych a knyght,
That hym wyth eyen beheld.
Upon Blaunchard, hys stede lyght,
Wyth helm and spere and schelde,
All that sawe hym yn armes bryght
Seyde they sawe never swych a knyght,
That hym wyth eyen beheld.
Tho ryde togydere thes knyghtes two,
That har schaftes to-broste bo,
And to-scyverede yn the felde;
Another cours togedere they rod,
That Syr Launfal helm of glod—
In tale as hyt ys telde.
That har schaftes to-broste bo,
And to-scyverede yn the felde;
25
That Syr Launfal helm of glod—
In tale as hyt ys telde.
Syr Valentyn logh and hadde good game;
Hadde Launfal never so moche schame
Beforhond yn no fyght.
Gyfre kedde he was good at nede,
And lepte upon hys maystrys stede
(No man ne segh wyth syght);
Hadde Launfal never so moche schame
Beforhond yn no fyght.
Gyfre kedde he was good at nede,
And lepte upon hys maystrys stede
(No man ne segh wyth syght);
And er than they togedere mette,
Hys lordes helm he on sette
Fayre and well adyght.
Tho was Launfal glad and blythe,
And thonkede Gyfre many sythe
For hys dede so mochel of myght.
Hys lordes helm he on sette
Fayre and well adyght.
Tho was Launfal glad and blythe,
And thonkede Gyfre many sythe
For hys dede so mochel of myght.
Syr Valentyne smot Launfal soo
That hys scheld fel hym fro,
Anoon ryght yn that stounde;
And Gyfre the scheld up hente
And broughte hyt hys lord to presente
Er hyt cam doune to grounde.
That hys scheld fel hym fro,
Anoon ryght yn that stounde;
And Gyfre the scheld up hente
And broughte hyt hys lord to presente
Er hyt cam doune to grounde.
Tho was Launfal glad and blythe,
And rode ayen the thridde sythe,
As a knyght of mochell mounde;
Syr Valentyne he smot so there
That hors and man bothe deed were,
Gronyng wyth grysly wounde.
And rode ayen the thridde sythe,
As a knyght of mochell mounde;
Syr Valentyne he smot so there
That hors and man bothe deed were,
Gronyng wyth grysly wounde.
26
Alle the lords of Atalye
To Syr Launfal hadde greet envye
That Valentyne was yslawe,
And swore that he schold dye
Er he wente out of Lumbardye,
And be hongede and todrawe.
To Syr Launfal hadde greet envye
That Valentyne was yslawe,
And swore that he schold dye
Er he wente out of Lumbardye,
And be hongede and todrawe.
Syr Launfal brayde out hys fachon,
And as lyght as dew he leyde hem doune
In a lytyll drawe;
And whan he hadde the lordes sclayn,
He wente ayen ynto Bretayn
Wyth solas and wyth plawe.
And as lyght as dew he leyde hem doune
In a lytyll drawe;
And whan he hadde the lordes sclayn,
He wente ayen ynto Bretayn
Wyth solas and wyth plawe.
The tydyng com to Artour the kyng
Anoon, wythout lesyng,
Of Syr Launfales noblesse;
Anoon a let to hym sende
That Launfale schuld to hym wende
At Seynt Jonnys Masse;
Anoon, wythout lesyng,
Of Syr Launfales noblesse;
Anoon a let to hym sende
That Launfale schuld to hym wende
At Seynt Jonnys Masse;
For Kyng Artour wold a feste holde
Of erles and of barouns bolde,
Of lordynges more and lesse;
Syr Launfal schud be stuward of halle
For to agye hys gestes alle,
For cowthe of largesse.
Of erles and of barouns bolde,
Of lordynges more and lesse;
Syr Launfal schud be stuward of halle
For to agye hys gestes alle,
For cowthe of largesse.
Launfal toke leve at Tryamour,
For to wende to Kyng Artour
Hys feste for to agye;
Ther he fond merthe and moch honour,
Ladyes that wer well bryght yn bour,
Of knyghtes greet companye.
For to wende to Kyng Artour
Hys feste for to agye;
27
Ladyes that wer well bryght yn bour,
Of knyghtes greet companye.
Fourty dayes leste the feste,
Ryche, ryall, and honeste—
What help hyt for to lye?
And at the fourty dayes ende
The lordes toke har leve to wende,
Everych yn hys partye.
Ryche, ryall, and honeste—
What help hyt for to lye?
And at the fourty dayes ende
The lordes toke har leve to wende,
Everych yn hys partye.
And aftyr mete Syr Gaweyn,
Syr Gyeryes, and Agrafayn,
And Syr Launfal also,
Wente to daunce upon the grene
Under the tour ther lay the quene
Wyth syxty ladyes and mo.
Syr Gyeryes, and Agrafayn,
And Syr Launfal also,
Wente to daunce upon the grene
Under the tour ther lay the quene
Wyth syxty ladyes and mo.
To lede the daunce Launfal was set;
For hys largesse he was lovede the bet,
Sertayn, of alle tho.
The quene lay out and beheld hem alle;
“I se,” sche seyde, “daunce large Launfalle;
To hym than wyll Y go.
For hys largesse he was lovede the bet,
Sertayn, of alle tho.
The quene lay out and beheld hem alle;
“I se,” sche seyde, “daunce large Launfalle;
To hym than wyll Y go.
Of alle the knyghtes that Y se there,
He ys the fayreste bachelere;
He ne hadde never no wyf.
Tyde me good other ylle,
I wyll go and wyte hys wylle;
Y love hym as my lyf!”
He ys the fayreste bachelere;
He ne hadde never no wyf.
Tyde me good other ylle,
I wyll go and wyte hys wylle;
Y love hym as my lyf!”
28
Sche tok wyth her a companye,
The fayrest that sch[e] myghte aspye—
Syxty ladyes and fyf—
And wente hem doun anoon ryghtes,
Ham to pley among the knyghtes
Well stylle, wythouten stryf.
The fayrest that sch[e] myghte aspye—
Syxty ladyes and fyf—
And wente hem doun anoon ryghtes,
Ham to pley among the knyghtes
Well stylle, wythouten stryf.
The quene yede to the formeste ende,
Betwene Launfal and Gauweyn the hende,
And after, her ladyes bryght
To daunce they wente alle yn same—
To se hem play, hyt was fayr game,
A lady and a knyght.
Betwene Launfal and Gauweyn the hende,
And after, her ladyes bryght
To daunce they wente alle yn same—
To se hem play, hyt was fayr game,
A lady and a knyght.
They hadde menstrales of moch honours,
Fydelers, sytolyrs, and trompours,
And elles hyt were unryght;
Ther they playde, for sothe to say,
After mete the somerys day
All-what hyt was neygh nyght.
Fydelers, sytolyrs, and trompours,
And elles hyt were unryght;
Ther they playde, for sothe to say,
After mete the somerys day
All-what hyt was neygh nyght.
And whanne the daunce began to slake,
The quene gan Launfal to counsell take,
And seyde yn thys manere:
“Sertaynlyche, Syr Knyght,
I have the lovyd wyth all my myght
More than thys seven yere.
The quene gan Launfal to counsell take,
And seyde yn thys manere:
“Sertaynlyche, Syr Knyght,
I have the lovyd wyth all my myght
More than thys seven yere.
But that thou lovye me,
Sertes Y dye for love of the,
Launfal, my lemman dere!”
Thanne answerede the gentyll knyght:
“I nell be traytour, day ne nyght,
Be God that all may stere!”
Sertes Y dye for love of the,
29
Thanne answerede the gentyll knyght:
“I nell be traytour, day ne nyght,
Be God that all may stere!”
Sche seyde, “Fy on the, thou coward!
An-honged worth thou, hye and hard!
That thou ever were ybore,
That thou lyvest, hyt ys pyté!
Thou lovyst no woman, ne no woman the;
Thou wer worthy forlore!”
An-honged worth thou, hye and hard!
That thou ever were ybore,
That thou lyvest, hyt ys pyté!
Thou lovyst no woman, ne no woman the;
Thou wer worthy forlore!”
The knyght was sore aschamed tho;
To speke ne myght he forgo,
And seyde the quene before:
“I have loved a fayryr woman
Than thou ever leydest thyn ey upon
Thys seven yer and more.
To speke ne myght he forgo,
And seyde the quene before:
“I have loved a fayryr woman
Than thou ever leydest thyn ey upon
Thys seven yer and more.
Hyr lothlokste mayde, wythoute wene,
Myght bet be a quene
Than thou, yn all thy lyve!”
Therfore the quene was swythe wroth;
Sche taketh hyr maydenes and forth hy go[th]
Into her tour al so blyve;
Myght bet be a quene
Than thou, yn all thy lyve!”
Therfore the quene was swythe wroth;
Sche taketh hyr maydenes and forth hy go[th]
Into her tour al so blyve;
And anon sche ley doun yn her bedde;
For wreth syk sche hyr bredde
And swore, so moste sche thryve,
Sche wold of Launfal be so awreke
That all the lond shuld of hym speke
Wythinne the dayes fyfe.
For wreth syk sche hyr bredde
And swore, so moste sche thryve,
Sche wold of Launfal be so awreke
30
Wythinne the dayes fyfe.
Kyng Artour com fro huntynge;
Blythe and glad yn all thyng,
To hys chamber than wente he;
Anoon the quene on hym gan crye:
“But Y be awreke, Y schall dye!
Myn herte wyll breke a-thre!
Blythe and glad yn all thyng,
To hys chamber than wente he;
Anoon the quene on hym gan crye:
“But Y be awreke, Y schall dye!
Myn herte wyll breke a-thre!
I spak to Launfal yn my game,
And he besofte me, of schame,
My lemman for to be;
And of a lemman hys yelp he made,
That the lothlokest mayde that sche hadde
Myght be a quene above me!”
And he besofte me, of schame,
My lemman for to be;
And of a lemman hys yelp he made,
That the lothlokest mayde that sche hadde
Myght be a quene above me!”
Kyng Artour was well wroth,
And be God he swor hys oth
That Launfal schuld be sclawe;
He wente aftyr doghty knyghtes
To brynge Launfal anoon ryghtes
To be honged and to-drawe.
And be God he swor hys oth
That Launfal schuld be sclawe;
He wente aftyr doghty knyghtes
To brynge Launfal anoon ryghtes
To be honged and to-drawe.
The knyghtes softe hym anoon,
But Launfal was to hys chaumber gon
To han hadde solas and plawe;
He softe hys leef, but sche was lore,
As sche hadde warnede hym before:
Tho was Launfal unfawe!
But Launfal was to hys chaumber gon
To han hadde solas and plawe;
He softe hys leef, but sche was lore,
As sche hadde warnede hym before:
Tho was Launfal unfawe!
31
He lokede yn hys alner,
That fond hym spendyng all plener
Whan that he hadde nede,
And ther nas noon, for soth to say,
And Gyfre was yryde away
Up Blaunchard, hys stede.
That fond hym spendyng all plener
Whan that he hadde nede,
And ther nas noon, for soth to say,
And Gyfre was yryde away
Up Blaunchard, hys stede.
All that he hadde before ywonne,
Hyt malt as snow agens the sunne—
In romaunce as we rede;
Hys armur, that was whyt as flour,
Hyt becom of blak colour,
And thus than Launfal seyde:
Hyt malt as snow agens the sunne—
In romaunce as we rede;
Hys armur, that was whyt as flour,
Hyt becom of blak colour,
And thus than Launfal seyde:
“Alas!” he seyde, “My creature,
How schall I from the endure,
Swetyng Tryamour?
All my joye I have forlore,
And the, that me ys worst fore,
Thou blysfull berde yn bour!”
How schall I from the endure,
Swetyng Tryamour?
All my joye I have forlore,
And the, that me ys worst fore,
Thou blysfull berde yn bour!”
He bet hys body and hys hedde ek,
And cursede the mouth that he wyth spek;
Wyth care and greet dolour,
And for sorow yn that stounde,
Anoon he fell aswowe to grounde.
Wyth that come knyghtes four,
And cursede the mouth that he wyth spek;
Wyth care and greet dolour,
And for sorow yn that stounde,
Anoon he fell aswowe to grounde.
Wyth that come knyghtes four,
And bond hym and ladde hym tho—
Tho was the knyghte yn doble wo!—
Before Artour the kyng.
Than seyde Kyng Artour:
“Fyle ataynte traytour!
Why madest thou swyche yelpyng?
Tho was the knyghte yn doble wo!—
Before Artour the kyng.
32
“Fyle ataynte traytour!
Why madest thou swyche yelpyng?
That thy lemmanes lothlokest mayde
Was fayrer than my wyf, thou seyde;
That was a fowll lesynge!
And thou besoftest her befor than
That sche schold be thy lemman:
That was mysprowd lykynge!”
Was fayrer than my wyf, thou seyde;
That was a fowll lesynge!
And thou besoftest her befor than
That sche schold be thy lemman:
That was mysprowd lykynge!”
The knyght answerede with egre mode,
Before the kyng ther he stode,
The quene on hym gan lye:
“Sethe that Y ever was yborn,
I besofte her here beforn
Never of no folye!
Before the kyng ther he stode,
The quene on hym gan lye:
“Sethe that Y ever was yborn,
I besofte her here beforn
Never of no folye!
But sche seyde Y nas no man,
Ne that me lovede no woman,
Ne no womannes companye;
And I answerede her and sayde
That my lemmannes lothlokest mayde
To be a quene was better worthye.
Ne that me lovede no woman,
Ne no womannes companye;
And I answerede her and sayde
That my lemmannes lothlokest mayde
To be a quene was better worthye.
Sertes, lordynges, hyt ys so;
I am aredy for to do
All that the court wyll loke.”
To say the sothe, wythout les,
All togedere how hyt was,
Twelve knyght[es] wer dryve to bok.
I am aredy for to do
All that the court wyll loke.”
To say the sothe, wythout les,
33
Twelve knyght[es] wer dryve to bok.
All they seyde ham betwene,
That knewe the maners of the quene,
And the queste toke:
The quene bar los of swych a word
That sche lovede lemmannes wythout her lord;
Har never on hyt forsoke.
That knewe the maners of the quene,
And the queste toke:
The quene bar los of swych a word
That sche lovede lemmannes wythout her lord;
Har never on hyt forsoke.
Therfor they seyden alle
Hyt was long on the quene, and not on Launfal;
Therof they gonne hym skere.
And yf he myghte hys lemman brynge,
That he made of swych yelpynge,
Other the maydens, were
Hyt was long on the quene, and not on Launfal;
Therof they gonne hym skere.
And yf he myghte hys lemman brynge,
That he made of swych yelpynge,
Other the maydens, were
Bryghter than the quene of hewe,
Launfal schuld be holde trewe
Of that yn all manere;
And yf he myghte not brynge hys lef,
He schud be hongede, as a thef,
They seyden all yn fere.
Launfal schuld be holde trewe
Of that yn all manere;
And yf he myghte not brynge hys lef,
He schud be hongede, as a thef,
They seyden all yn fere.
Alle yn fere they made proferynge
That Launfal schuld hys lemman brynge;
Hys heed he gan to laye.
Than seyde the quene, wythout lesynge:
“Yyf he bryngeth a fayrer thynge,
Put out my eeyn gray!”
That Launfal schuld hys lemman brynge;
Hys heed he gan to laye.
Than seyde the quene, wythout lesynge:
34
Put out my eeyn gray!”
Whan that wajowr was take on honde,
Launfal therto two borwes fonde,
Noble knyghtes twayn;
Syr Percevall and Syr Gawayn,
They wer hys borwes, soth to sayn,
Tyll a certayn day.
Launfal therto two borwes fonde,
Noble knyghtes twayn;
Syr Percevall and Syr Gawayn,
They wer hys borwes, soth to sayn,
Tyll a certayn day.
The certayn day, I yow plyght,
Was twelve moneth and fourtenyght,
That he schuld hys lemman brynge;
Syr Launfal, that noble knyght,
Greet sorow and care yn hym was lyght:
Hys hondys he gan wrynge.
Was twelve moneth and fourtenyght,
That he schuld hys lemman brynge;
Syr Launfal, that noble knyght,
Greet sorow and care yn hym was lyght:
Hys hondys he gan wrynge.
So greet sorowe hym was upan,
Gladlyche hys lyf he wold a forgon;
In care and in marnynge,
Gladlyche he wold hys hed forgo;
Everych man therfore was wo
That wyste of that tydynge.
Gladlyche hys lyf he wold a forgon;
In care and in marnynge,
Gladlyche he wold hys hed forgo;
Everych man therfore was wo
That wyste of that tydynge.
The certayn day was nyghyng;
Hys borowes hym broght befor the kyng.
The kyng recordede tho,
And bad hym bryng hys lef yn syght.
Syr Launfal seyde that he ne myght;
Therfore hym was well wo.
Hys borowes hym broght befor the kyng.
The kyng recordede tho,
And bad hym bryng hys lef yn syght.
35
Therfore hym was well wo.
The kyng commaundede the barouns alle
To yeve jugement on Launfal,
And dampny hym to sclo.
Than sayde the Erl of Cornewayle,
That was wyth ham at that counceyle:
“We wyllyth naght do so;
To yeve jugement on Launfal,
And dampny hym to sclo.
Than sayde the Erl of Cornewayle,
That was wyth ham at that counceyle:
“We wyllyth naght do so;
Greet schame hyt wer us alle upon
For to dampny that gantylman,
That hath be hende and fre;
Therfor, lordynges, doth be my reed;
Our kyng we wyllyth another wey lede:
Out of lond Launfal schall fle.”
For to dampny that gantylman,
That hath be hende and fre;
Therfor, lordynges, doth be my reed;
Our kyng we wyllyth another wey lede:
Out of lond Launfal schall fle.”
And as they stod thus spekynge,
The barouns sawe come rydynge
Ten maydenes, bryght of ble;
Ham thoghte they wer so bryght and schene
That the lothlokest, wythout wene,
Har quene than myghte be.
The barouns sawe come rydynge
Ten maydenes, bryght of ble;
Ham thoghte they wer so bryght and schene
That the lothlokest, wythout wene,
Har quene than myghte be.
Tho seyde Gawayne, that corteys knyght:
“Launfal, brothyr, drede the no wyght;
Her cometh thy lemman hende!”
Launfal answerede and seyde, “Ywys,
Non of ham my lemman nys,
Gawayn, my lefly frende!”
“Launfal, brothyr, drede the no wyght;
Her cometh thy lemman hende!”
Launfal answerede and seyde, “Ywys,
Non of ham my lemman nys,
Gawayn, my lefly frende!”
36
To that castell they wente ryght;
At the gate they gonne alyght;
Befor Kyng Artour gonne they wende,
And bede hym make aredy hastyly
A fayr chamber for her lady,
That was come of kynges kende.
At the gate they gonne alyght;
Befor Kyng Artour gonne they wende,
And bede hym make aredy hastyly
A fayr chamber for her lady,
That was come of kynges kende.
“Ho ys your lady?” Artour seyde;
“Ye schull ywyte,” seyde the mayde,
“For sche cometh ryde.”
The kyng commaundede, for her sake,
The fayryst chaunber for to take
In hys palys that tyde;
“Ye schull ywyte,” seyde the mayde,
“For sche cometh ryde.”
The kyng commaundede, for her sake,
The fayryst chaunber for to take
In hys palys that tyde;
And anon to hys barouns he sente
For to yeve jugemente
Upon that traytour full of pryde;
The barouns answerede anoon ryght:
“Have we seyn the maydenes bryght,
Whe schull not longe abyde.”
For to yeve jugemente
Upon that traytour full of pryde;
The barouns answerede anoon ryght:
“Have we seyn the maydenes bryght,
Whe schull not longe abyde.”
A newe tale they gonne tho,
Some of wele and some of wo,
Har lord the kyng to queme.
Some dampnede Launfal there,
And some made hym quyt and skere;
Har tales wer well breme.
Some of wele and some of wo,
Har lord the kyng to queme.
Some dampnede Launfal there,
And some made hym quyt and skere;
Har tales wer well breme.
Tho saw they other ten maydenes bryght,
Fayryr than the other ten of syght,
As they gone hym deme;
They ryd upon joly moyles of Spayne,
Wyth sadell and brydell of Champayne;
Har lorayns lyght gonne leme.
Fayryr than the other ten of syght,
As they gone hym deme;
37
Wyth sadell and brydell of Champayne;
Har lorayns lyght gonne leme.
They wer yclothed yn samyt tyre;
Ech man hadde greet desyre
To se har clothynge;
Tho seyde Gaweyn, that curtayse knyght:
“Launfal, her cometh thy swete wyght,
That may thy bote brynge.”
Ech man hadde greet desyre
To se har clothynge;
Tho seyde Gaweyn, that curtayse knyght:
“Launfal, her cometh thy swete wyght,
That may thy bote brynge.”
Launfal answerede wyth drery thoght,
And seyde, “Alas, Y knowe hem noght,
Ne non of all the ofsprynge.”
Forth they wente to that palys
And lyghte at the hye deys
Before Artour the kynge,
And seyde, “Alas, Y knowe hem noght,
Ne non of all the ofsprynge.”
Forth they wente to that palys
And lyghte at the hye deys
Before Artour the kynge,
And grette the kyng and quene ek,
And oo mayde thys wordes spak
To the kyng, Artour:
“Thyn halle agraythe and hele the walles
Wyth clothes and wyth ryche palles,
Agens my lady Tryamour!”
And oo mayde thys wordes spak
To the kyng, Artour:
“Thyn halle agraythe and hele the walles
Wyth clothes and wyth ryche palles,
Agens my lady Tryamour!”
38
The kyng answerede bedene:
“Wellcome, ye maydenes schene,
Be our Lord, the Savyour!”
He commaundede Launcelot du Lake to brynge hem yn Efere
In the chamber ther har felawes were,
Wyth merth and moche honoure.
“Wellcome, ye maydenes schene,
Be our Lord, the Savyour!”
He commaundede Launcelot du Lake to brynge hem yn Efere
In the chamber ther har felawes were,
Wyth merth and moche honoure.
Anoon the quene supposed gyle—
That Launfal schulld yn a whyle
Be ymade quyt and skere
Thorugh hys lemman that was commynge.
Anon sche seyde to Artour the kyng:
“Syre, curtays yf thou were,
That Launfal schulld yn a whyle
Be ymade quyt and skere
Thorugh hys lemman that was commynge.
Anon sche seyde to Artour the kyng:
“Syre, curtays yf thou were,
Or yf thou lovedest thyn honour,
I schuld be awreke of that traytour
That doth me changy chere;
To Launfal thou schuldest not spare—
Thy barouns dryveth the to bysmare;
He ys hem lef and dere.”
I schuld be awreke of that traytour
That doth me changy chere;
To Launfal thou schuldest not spare—
Thy barouns dryveth the to bysmare;
He ys hem lef and dere.”
And as the quene spak to the kyng,
The barouns seygh come rydynge
A damesele alone
Upoon a whyt comely palfrey;
They saw never non so gay
Upon the grounde gone:
The barouns seygh come rydynge
A damesele alone
Upoon a whyt comely palfrey;
They saw never non so gay
Upon the grounde gone:
Gentyll, jolyf as bryd on bowe,
In all manere fayr inowe
To wonye yn wordly wone.
The lady was bryght as blosme on brere,
Wyth eyen gray, wyth lovelych chere;
Her leyre lyght schoone.
In all manere fayr inowe
To wonye yn wordly wone.
39
Wyth eyen gray, wyth lovelych chere;
Her leyre lyght schoone.
As rose on rys her rode was red;
The her schon upon her hed
As gold wyre that schynyth bryght;
Sche hadde a crounne upon here molde
Of ryche stones and of golde,
That lofsom lemede lyght.
The her schon upon her hed
As gold wyre that schynyth bryght;
Sche hadde a crounne upon here molde
Of ryche stones and of golde,
That lofsom lemede lyght.
The lady was clad yn purpere palle,
Wyth gentyll body and myddyll small,
That semely was of syght;
Her mantyll was furryd wyth whyt ermyn,
Ireversyd jolyf and fyn:
No rychere be ne myght.
Wyth gentyll body and myddyll small,
That semely was of syght;
Her mantyll was furryd wyth whyt ermyn,
Ireversyd jolyf and fyn:
No rychere be ne myght.
Her sadell was semyly set;
The sambus wer grene felvet,
Ipaynted wyth ymagerye;
The bordure was of belles
Of ryche gold, and nothyng elles,
That any man myghte aspye.
The sambus wer grene felvet,
Ipaynted wyth ymagerye;
The bordure was of belles
Of ryche gold, and nothyng elles,
That any man myghte aspye.
In the arsouns, before and behynde,
Were twey stones of Ynde,
Gay for the maystrye;
The paytrelle of her palfraye
Was worth an erldome, stoute and gay,
The best yn Lumbardye.
Were twey stones of Ynde,
Gay for the maystrye;
The paytrelle of her palfraye
Was worth an erldome, stoute and gay,
The best yn Lumbardye.
40
A gerfawcon sche bar on her hond,
A softe pas her palfray fond,
That men her schuld beholde;
Thorugh Karlyon rood that lady;
Twey whyte grehoundys ronne hyr by;
Har colers were of golde.
A softe pas her palfray fond,
That men her schuld beholde;
Thorugh Karlyon rood that lady;
Twey whyte grehoundys ronne hyr by;
Har colers were of golde.
And whan Launfal sawe that lady,
To alle the folk he gon crye an hy,
Bothe to yonge and olde:
“Here,” he seyde, “comyth my lemman swete!
Sche myghte me of my balys bete,
Yef that lady wolde!”
To alle the folk he gon crye an hy,
Bothe to yonge and olde:
“Here,” he seyde, “comyth my lemman swete!
Sche myghte me of my balys bete,
Yef that lady wolde!”
Forth sche wente ynto the halle,
Ther was the quene and the ladyes alle,
And also Kyng Artour;
Her maydenes come ayens her ryght,
To take her styrop whan sche lyght,
Of the lady, Dame Tryamour.
Ther was the quene and the ladyes alle,
And also Kyng Artour;
Her maydenes come ayens her ryght,
To take her styrop whan sche lyght,
Of the lady, Dame Tryamour.
Sche dede of her mantyll on the flet
That men schuld her beholde the bet,
Wythoute a more sojour;
Kyng Artour gan her fayre grete,
And sche hym agayn wyth wordes swete,
That were of greet valour.
That men schuld her beholde the bet,
Wythoute a more sojour;
Kyng Artour gan her fayre grete,
And sche hym agayn wyth wordes swete,
That were of greet valour.
Up stod the quene and ladyes stoute,
Her for to beholde all aboute,
How evene sche stod upryght;
Than wer they wyth her al so donne
As ys the mone ayen the sonne,
A-day whan hyt ys lyght.
Her for to beholde all aboute,
How evene sche stod upryght;
Than wer they wyth her al so donne
41
A-day whan hyt ys lyght.
Than seyde sche to Artour the kyng:
“Syr, hydyr I com for swych a thyng,
To skere Launfal the knyght—
That he never, yn no folye,
Besofte the quene of no drurye,
By dayes ne be nyght.
“Syr, hydyr I com for swych a thyng,
To skere Launfal the knyght—
That he never, yn no folye,
Besofte the quene of no drurye,
By dayes ne be nyght.
Therfor, Syr Kyng, good kepe thou nyme:
He bad naght her, but sche bad hym
Here lemman for to be;
And he answerede her and seyde
That hys lemmannes lothlokest mayde
Was fayryr than was sche.”
He bad naght her, but sche bad hym
Here lemman for to be;
And he answerede her and seyde
That hys lemmannes lothlokest mayde
Was fayryr than was sche.”
Kyng Artour seyde, wythouten othe,
“Ech man may yse that ys sothe,
Bryghtere that ye be!”
Wyth that, Dame Tryamour to the quene geth,
And blew on her swych a breth
That never eft myght sche se.
“Ech man may yse that ys sothe,
Bryghtere that ye be!”
Wyth that, Dame Tryamour to the quene geth,
And blew on her swych a breth
That never eft myght sche se.
The lady lep an hyr palfray,
And bad hem alle have good day;
Sche nolde no lengere abyde.
Wyth that com Gyfre all so prest,
Wyth Launfalys stede out of the forest,
And stode Launfal besyde.
And bad hem alle have good day;
Sche nolde no lengere abyde.
Wyth that com Gyfre all so prest,
Wyth Launfalys stede out of the forest,
And stode Launfal besyde.
42
The knyght to horse began to sprynge,
Anoon, wythout any lettynge,
Wyth hys lemman away to ryde.
The lady tok her maydenys achon,
And wente the way that sche hadde er gon,
Wyth solas and wyth pryde.
Anoon, wythout any lettynge,
Wyth hys lemman away to ryde.
The lady tok her maydenys achon,
And wente the way that sche hadde er gon,
Wyth solas and wyth pryde.
The lady rod thorugh Cardeuyle,
Fer ynto a jolyf ile,
Olyroun that hyghte;
Every yer, upon a certayne day,
Me may here Launfales stede nay,
And hym se wyth syght.
Fer ynto a jolyf ile,
Olyroun that hyghte;
Every yer, upon a certayne day,
Me may here Launfales stede nay,
And hym se wyth syght.
Ho that wyll ther axsy justus,
To kepe hys armes fro the rustus,
In turnement other fyght,
Dar he never forther gon:
Ther he may fynde justes anoon
Wyth Syr Launfal the knyght.
To kepe hys armes fro the rustus,
In turnement other fyght,
Dar he never forther gon:
Ther he may fynde justes anoon
Wyth Syr Launfal the knyght.
Thus Launfal, wythouten fable,
That noble knyght of the Rounde Table,
Was take ynto fayrye;
Sethe saw hym yn thys lond no man,
Ne no more of hym telle Y, ne can,
For sothe, wythoute lye.
That noble knyght of the Rounde Table,
Was take ynto fayrye;
Sethe saw hym yn thys lond no man,
Ne no more of hym telle Y, ne can,
For sothe, wythoute lye.
Thomas Chestre made thys tale
Of the noble knyght, Syr Launfale,
Good of chyvalrye;
Jhesus, that ys Hevene-Kyng,
Yeve us alle Hys blessyng,
And Hys Modyr Marye!
Of the noble knyght, Syr Launfale,
Good of chyvalrye;
43
Yeve us alle Hys blessyng,
And Hys Modyr Marye!
Amen
Explicit Launfal
179
Sir Gowther
God, that art of myghtis most,
Fader and Sone and Holy Gost,
That bought man on rode so dere,
Shilde us from the fowle fende
That is about mannys sowle to shende
All tymes of the yere!
Fader and Sone and Holy Gost,
That bought man on rode so dere,
Shilde us from the fowle fende
That is about mannys sowle to shende
All tymes of the yere!
Sumtyme the fende hadde postee
For to dele with ladies free
In liknesse of here fere,
So that he begat Merlyng and mo,
And wrought ladies so mikil wo
That ferly it is to here.
For to dele with ladies free
In liknesse of here fere,
So that he begat Merlyng and mo,
And wrought ladies so mikil wo
That ferly it is to here.
A selcowgh thyng that is to here,
A fend to nyegh a woman so nere
To make here with childe,
And mannes kynde of here to tan,
For of himself hath he non,
Be Marie, maide mylde!
A fend to nyegh a woman so nere
To make here with childe,
And mannes kynde of here to tan,
For of himself hath he non,
Be Marie, maide mylde!
180
As clerkis sayn, and weten wel howe,
Y may not all reherce nowe,
But Crist from shame us shyld;
I shal tel yow how a child was gete,
And in what sorow his moder he sett
With his workis so wild.
Y may not all reherce nowe,
But Crist from shame us shyld;
I shal tel yow how a child was gete,
And in what sorow his moder he sett
With his workis so wild.
Of that baron yborn unblithe,
Crist yeve him joy that wulle lythe
Of auntres that befelle:
In the layes of Britanye that was I sowght,
And owt of oon was ybrought
That lovely is to tell.
Crist yeve him joy that wulle lythe
Of auntres that befelle:
In the layes of Britanye that was I sowght,
And owt of oon was ybrought
That lovely is to tell.
There was a duk in Ostrych
Weddyd a lady nobil and riche,
She was fayre of flessch and felle;
To the lyly was likened that lady clere;
Here rody was rede as blosmes on brere,
That couteis damysell.
Weddyd a lady nobil and riche,
She was fayre of flessch and felle;
To the lyly was likened that lady clere;
Here rody was rede as blosmes on brere,
That couteis damysell.
Whan she was weddid, that ladi shene,
Duches she was, withouten wene;
A grete fest gan thei make.
Knyghtes and squyres on the furst day,
On steedes hem gentely to play,
Here shaftes gan thei shake.
Duches she was, withouten wene;
A grete fest gan thei make.
Knyghtes and squyres on the furst day,
On steedes hem gentely to play,
Here shaftes gan thei shake.
On the morowe the lordes gente
Made a riall tournement
For the ladys sake;
The duk wan steedes ten,
And bare downe many dowghti men;
Here shildes gan he crake.
Made a riall tournement
For the ladys sake;
The duk wan steedes ten,
181
Here shildes gan he crake.
Whan the feste gan to seese,
The worthi duk and ducheese
They levid together with wenne;
Full seven-yere togeder thei were;
He gat no childe, ne none she bere;
Here joy gan wex ful thenne.
The worthi duk and ducheese
They levid together with wenne;
Full seven-yere togeder thei were;
He gat no childe, ne none she bere;
Here joy gan wex ful thenne.
As it bifill uppon a day,
To the lady he gan say,
“Now mote we part a-twene,
But ye myght a childe bere
That myght my londes weld and were!”
She wept and myght not blynne.
To the lady he gan say,
“Now mote we part a-twene,
But ye myght a childe bere
That myght my londes weld and were!”
She wept and myght not blynne.
Than morned the lady clere,
That al falwyd hire faire chere;
For she conceyvid nowght.
She praid to Crist and Marie mylde
Shulde hire grace to have a childe,
In what maner she ne rought.
That al falwyd hire faire chere;
For she conceyvid nowght.
She praid to Crist and Marie mylde
Shulde hire grace to have a childe,
In what maner she ne rought.
As she walkyd yn orcheyerde uppon a day
She mett a man in a riche aray;
Of love he here bisowght.
He come in liknesse of here lord free;
Undernethe a chestayne tree
His will with hire he wrought.
She mett a man in a riche aray;
Of love he here bisowght.
He come in liknesse of here lord free;
Undernethe a chestayne tree
His will with hire he wrought.
182
Whan he had his will ydoon,
A fowle fend, he stode uppe soon;
He lokid and hire byhilde,
And said, “Dame, I have gete on the
A childe that yn his youghte wild shal be
His wepen for to welde.”
A fowle fend, he stode uppe soon;
He lokid and hire byhilde,
And said, “Dame, I have gete on the
A childe that yn his youghte wild shal be
His wepen for to welde.”
She blissid hire and from him ran;
Intil hire chamber anon she cam,
That was so strong of belde;
She said to hire lorde so mylde,
“Tonyght Y hope to conceyve a childe
That shall your londes welde.
Intil hire chamber anon she cam,
That was so strong of belde;
She said to hire lorde so mylde,
“Tonyght Y hope to conceyve a childe
That shall your londes welde.
An angil that was so faire and bright
Told me so this yonder nyght;
I trust to Cristis sonde
That He woll stynt us of owre strife.”
In his armys he toke his wife,
That frely was to fonde.
Told me so this yonder nyght;
I trust to Cristis sonde
That He woll stynt us of owre strife.”
In his armys he toke his wife,
That frely was to fonde.
Whan it was even, to bed thei chase,
The riche duk and the duches;
For no man wold thei wonde.
He pleid him with that lady hende;
She was bounde with a fende
Til Crist wold lose hire bonde.
The riche duk and the duches;
For no man wold thei wonde.
He pleid him with that lady hende;
She was bounde with a fende
Til Crist wold lose hire bonde.
The childe withyn hire was non other
But Marlyngs half brother;
On fende gat hem bothe;
He servid never for other thyng,
But temptid men and women yyng,
To dele with hem, for sothe.
But Marlyngs half brother;
On fende gat hem bothe;
He servid never for other thyng,
183
To dele with hem, for sothe.
Thus the lady gretid fast
Til she was delivred atte last
Of on that wolde do scathe.
To the church thei gan him bere,
And cristen his name Goughthere,
That afterward wax breme and brathe.
Til she was delivred atte last
Of on that wolde do scathe.
To the church thei gan him bere,
And cristen his name Goughthere,
That afterward wax breme and brathe.
The lord comforted the lady gent,
And after norsis anone he sente,
Of the best in that contree;
Summe were nobill knyghtes wifes;
He sak so sore thei lost here lyfes—
Full sone he hadde slayn three.
And after norsis anone he sente,
Of the best in that contree;
Summe were nobill knyghtes wifes;
He sak so sore thei lost here lyfes—
Full sone he hadde slayn three.
The child throfe, and swythe wax;
The duk sent after other sex—
As wetnesse the storie.
Or that the twelve-monthis weren comyn and gon,
Nyen norsys he had ysloon,
Ladies faire and free.
The duk sent after other sex—
As wetnesse the storie.
Or that the twelve-monthis weren comyn and gon,
Nyen norsys he had ysloon,
Ladies faire and free.
Knightes of that contree gadered hem in same,
And said, “Forsothe, this is no game!”—
To sleyn hire ladies soo;
Thay bad him ordeyne for his sone,
For he myght not have his wone,
Nor non norses moo.
And said, “Forsothe, this is no game!”—
To sleyn hire ladies soo;
Thay bad him ordeyne for his sone,
For he myght not have his wone,
Nor non norses moo.
184
Than bifill his moder a ferly happe:
On a day she bad him here pappe;
And he arifte hire soo,
He tare the oon side of hir brest;
The lady cried after a prest;
Into a chamber she fled him froo.
On a day she bad him here pappe;
And he arifte hire soo,
He tare the oon side of hir brest;
The lady cried after a prest;
Into a chamber she fled him froo.
Than a leche helid uppe the lady sore;
She durst yeve him sowke no more,
That yong childe Gowghtere,
But fedde him uppe with other foode
As moch as him behovid—
That dare Y savely swere—
She durst yeve him sowke no more,
That yong childe Gowghtere,
But fedde him uppe with other foode
As moch as him behovid—
That dare Y savely swere—
That in oo yere more he wex
Than other childern did in sex.
Him semed wel to ride,
He wax wikked in all withe;
His fader him myght not chastithe,
But made him knyght that tyde.
Than other childern did in sex.
Him semed wel to ride,
He wax wikked in all withe;
His fader him myght not chastithe,
But made him knyght that tyde.
He gaf him his best swerde in honde;
There was no knyghte in all that londe
A dent durst him abyde;
But after, whan his fader was dede,
Carfull was his moder rede;
Here sorowe myght no man hide.
There was no knyghte in all that londe
A dent durst him abyde;
But after, whan his fader was dede,
Carfull was his moder rede;
Here sorowe myght no man hide.
Dowrey for him must she have none,
But in castell of lyme and stone
Fast from him sho fledde;
She made hire strong and hild hir there;
Hire men myght syng of sorow and care,
So strait thai were bestedde.
But in castell of lyme and stone
185
She made hire strong and hild hir there;
Hire men myght syng of sorow and care,
So strait thai were bestedde.
For where he mett hem bi the way,
“Alas the while,” thei myght say,
“That ever his moder him fedde!”
For with his fauchon he wold hem sloo,
Or strik here hors bak a-twoo;
Swich parell thei dredde!
“Alas the while,” thei myght say,
“That ever his moder him fedde!”
For with his fauchon he wold hem sloo,
Or strik here hors bak a-twoo;
Swich parell thei dredde!
Thus was the duk of greet renown;
Men of religion he throug hem down
Where he myght hem mete;
Masse nor mateyns wold he none here,
Ne no prechyng of no frere,
Thus dare Y yow behete.
Men of religion he throug hem down
Where he myght hem mete;
Masse nor mateyns wold he none here,
Ne no prechyng of no frere,
Thus dare Y yow behete.
And tho that wold not werk his will,
Erly and late, lowde and still,
Ful sore he wold hem bete;
Huntyng he loved al there best,
In parkes and in wild forest,
Where he myght it gete.
Erly and late, lowde and still,
Ful sore he wold hem bete;
Huntyng he loved al there best,
In parkes and in wild forest,
Where he myght it gete.
As he rode on huntyng uppon a day,
He saw a nonnery bi the highway,
And theder gan he ride;
The prioresse and here covent
With procession agayn him went,
Trewly in that tyde.
He saw a nonnery bi the highway,
And theder gan he ride;
The prioresse and here covent
186
Trewly in that tyde.
Thei kneled down oppon here knee,
And said, “Leige lord, welcome be yee!”—
Yn hert is nowght to hide.
He drofe hem home into here churche,
And brend hem uppe: thus gan he werche;
His lose sporng ful wide.
And said, “Leige lord, welcome be yee!”—
Yn hert is nowght to hide.
He drofe hem home into here churche,
And brend hem uppe: thus gan he werche;
His lose sporng ful wide.
Al tho that wold on God belefe,
He was abowte hem to greve
In all that he myght doo.
Maidenes mariagies wold he spill,
And take wyfes agayn here will,
And sle here husbondes, too.
He was abowte hem to greve
In all that he myght doo.
Maidenes mariagies wold he spill,
And take wyfes agayn here will,
And sle here husbondes, too.
He made prestes and clerkes to lepe on cragges,
Monkes and freres to hong on knagges;
Thus wonderly wold he doo.
He brent up hermites on a fere,
And paid wedows the same hire;
He wrought hem mochill woo!
Monkes and freres to hong on knagges;
Thus wonderly wold he doo.
He brent up hermites on a fere,
And paid wedows the same hire;
He wrought hem mochill woo!
A good old erll of that contree,
To the duk than rode hee,
And said, “Sir, whi doest thow so?
Thow comest never of Criste strene;
Thou art sum fendes sone, Y wene;
Bi thi werkis it semeth so.
To the duk than rode hee,
And said, “Sir, whi doest thow so?
Thow comest never of Criste strene;
Thou art sum fendes sone, Y wene;
Bi thi werkis it semeth so.
187
Thou doest no good, but ever ill;
Thou art bisibbe the devel of hell!”
Than was Sir Gowghter thro,
And said, “If thou lye on me,
Hanged and todraw shalt thow be
Or that thow fro me go!”
Thou art bisibbe the devel of hell!”
Than was Sir Gowghter thro,
And said, “If thou lye on me,
Hanged and todraw shalt thow be
Or that thow fro me go!”
He kept this erll fast in holde,
And to his moderis castel he wold
As fast as he myght ryde.
He said to his moder free,
“Who was my fader? Tell thow me,
Or my swerd shal thorow the glide!”
And to his moderis castel he wold
As fast as he myght ryde.
He said to his moder free,
“Who was my fader? Tell thow me,
Or my swerd shal thorow the glide!”
He set the point to here brest,
And said, “Dame, thow getest non other prest
The sothe if thow hide!”
She said, “Sone, the duke that deyde last,
That is owt of this world past,
He weddid me with pride.
And said, “Dame, thow getest non other prest
The sothe if thow hide!”
She said, “Sone, the duke that deyde last,
That is owt of this world past,
He weddid me with pride.
The sothe trewly shal I say:
As Y went in owre orcheyerd uppon a day,
A fend bygatte the thore;
He come in liknesse of my lord so free,
Undernethe a chesten tree.”
Tho sythed Sir Gowghter ful sore,
As Y went in owre orcheyerd uppon a day,
A fend bygatte the thore;
He come in liknesse of my lord so free,
Undernethe a chesten tree.”
Tho sythed Sir Gowghter ful sore,
And said, “Shryve the, moder, and do thy best,
For Y will to Rome er that Y rest,
To leve upan other lore.”
Swych a thought fil uppon him, dowtely,
That ofte he gan to cry, “Mercy!”
To Jhesu, that Marie bore.
For Y will to Rome er that Y rest,
To leve upan other lore.”
188
That ofte he gan to cry, “Mercy!”
To Jhesu, that Marie bore.
Than Sir Gowghter rode him home agayn,
And to the olde erll he gan sayn,
“A trew tale told thow me;
Now wol I to Rome, to that appostell,
To be shreven, and after, asoyled;
Good sir, kepe my castel free.”
And to the olde erll he gan sayn,
“A trew tale told thow me;
Now wol I to Rome, to that appostell,
To be shreven, and after, asoyled;
Good sir, kepe my castel free.”
Thus he left the old erll thare
To kepe his londes, less and mare.
Sir Goughter forth gan glide;
Uppon his fote fast he ranne;
He toke with him hors nor man—
Him was lever to ryn than ryde.
To kepe his londes, less and mare.
Sir Goughter forth gan glide;
Uppon his fote fast he ranne;
He toke with him hors nor man—
Him was lever to ryn than ryde.
His fauchon he toke with him thoo;
He left that never for wel ne woo,
But hynge that bi his side.
And to the cowrt gan he sech;
Or he myght come to the popis spech,
Ful long he gan abyde.
He left that never for wel ne woo,
But hynge that bi his side.
And to the cowrt gan he sech;
Or he myght come to the popis spech,
Ful long he gan abyde.
As sone has he the pope con see,
He kneled down uppon his kne,
And said to him ful sone;
He askid him with high sown
Cryst and absolucion.
The pope him graunted his bone.
He kneled down uppon his kne,
And said to him ful sone;
He askid him with high sown
Cryst and absolucion.
The pope him graunted his bone.
189
“Whens art thow, and of what contré?”
“Duk of Ostrich, sir,” said he,
“By trewe God in trone!
That was goten with a fende,
And born of a lady hende:
I trowe my good dayes ben done.”
“Duk of Ostrich, sir,” said he,
“By trewe God in trone!
That was goten with a fende,
And born of a lady hende:
I trowe my good dayes ben done.”
“Art thow Crystyn?” said hee.
“Trewly, sir,” he saide, “yee;
My name is Gowhter.”
“Than,” said the pope, “thow art comyn heder;
Or ells, Y most have gon theder,
And that ful lothe me were;
“Trewly, sir,” he saide, “yee;
My name is Gowhter.”
“Than,” said the pope, “thow art comyn heder;
Or ells, Y most have gon theder,
And that ful lothe me were;
For thow hast holy church destroyed.”
“Holy fader,” he said, “be noght anoyed;
I shall the verely swere
That what penaunce ye me yeve,
I shall do that if Y may leve,
And never Crysten man dere.”
“Holy fader,” he said, “be noght anoyed;
I shall the verely swere
That what penaunce ye me yeve,
I shall do that if Y may leve,
And never Crysten man dere.”
“Lay down thy fauchon, than, the fro!
Thow shalt be shreven er thow go,
And assoyled er Y blynne.”
“Nay, holy fader,” said Gowghter,
“This fauchon most Y with me bere;
My frendes happely ben ful thynne!”
Thow shalt be shreven er thow go,
And assoyled er Y blynne.”
“Nay, holy fader,” said Gowghter,
“This fauchon most Y with me bere;
My frendes happely ben ful thynne!”
“Thow shalt walk north and sowthe,
And gete thi mete owt of houndis mouth;
This penaunce shalt thow gynne.
And speke no word, even ne odde,
Til thow have very wetyng of Godde
Foryevyn be all thy synne.”
And gete thi mete owt of houndis mouth;
This penaunce shalt thow gynne.
190
Til thow have very wetyng of Godde
Foryevyn be all thy synne.”
He kneled byfore the worthy appostell
That solemly gan him assoyle,
With word as Y yow say;
Of all that day mete gat he none
Saufe owt of a houndes mouth a bone,
And forth he went his way.
That solemly gan him assoyle,
With word as Y yow say;
Of all that day mete gat he none
Saufe owt of a houndes mouth a bone,
And forth he went his way.
He trayvayled owt of that cetee
Into another fer contree,
For sothe as I yow say;
He set him down uppon an hill;
An greyhounde brought brede him till
At high none of the day.
Into another fer contree,
For sothe as I yow say;
He set him down uppon an hill;
An greyhounde brought brede him till
At high none of the day.
Thre dayes there he lay,
And a greyhond every day
A barly lofe him browght;
The fowrethe day him come none;
Up he start and forthe con gon,
And thankid God in thowght.
And a greyhond every day
A barly lofe him browght;
The fowrethe day him come none;
Up he start and forthe con gon,
And thankid God in thowght.
Bysyde him stode a faire castell;
The emperor of Almayn thereyn gan dwell,
And theder him gothe ful softe;
He set him down withowt the yate,
And durst not goon yn thereate,
Though him were woo yn thowght.
The emperor of Almayn thereyn gan dwell,
And theder him gothe ful softe;
He set him down withowt the yate,
And durst not goon yn thereate,
Though him were woo yn thowght.
191
Than waytes blew uppon the wall,
Knyghtes gadered hem into the hall,
They wysshe and went to mete.
Up he rose and yn is goon;
Ussher at the halldore fond he non,
Ne porter at the yate.
Knyghtes gadered hem into the hall,
They wysshe and went to mete.
Up he rose and yn is goon;
Ussher at the halldore fond he non,
Ne porter at the yate.
He presid blythely thorow the prese,
Even til the hegh bord he chese;
Thereunder he made his sete.
There come the steward with a rod in his honde
To do him thens, thus he wold fond,
And thret him to bete.
Even til the hegh bord he chese;
Thereunder he made his sete.
There come the steward with a rod in his honde
To do him thens, thus he wold fond,
And thret him to bete.
“What is that?” said the emperor.
The steward said with grete honowre,
“My lord, it is a man,
The fayrest and the most that ever Y seye—
Come se yowreself that is no lye!”
The emperor till him cam.
The steward said with grete honowre,
“My lord, it is a man,
The fayrest and the most that ever Y seye—
Come se yowreself that is no lye!”
The emperor till him cam.
But word of him cowde they non gete;
“Lete him sit,” said the emperor, “and gete him mete;
Ful litell good he can,
Or that may happe, thorow sum chaunce,
That it is geve him in sum penaunce,”
Thus said the emperore thanne.
“Lete him sit,” said the emperor, “and gete him mete;
Ful litell good he can,
Or that may happe, thorow sum chaunce,
That it is geve him in sum penaunce,”
Thus said the emperore thanne.
Whan the emperor was all servyd
(A knyght had his mete ykervyd),
He sent the domme man part.
He let hit stond and wolde non,
But a spaynel come rynne with a bone,
And in his mouth he that lart.
(A knyght had his mete ykervyd),
He sent the domme man part.
He let hit stond and wolde non,
192
And in his mouth he that lart.
The domme man to him he raught,
And that bone to him he cawght;
Thereon fast he tare;
For other sustinaunce he had nowght
But such as he fro houndes cawght;
The more was his care.
And that bone to him he cawght;
Thereon fast he tare;
For other sustinaunce he had nowght
But such as he fro houndes cawght;
The more was his care.
The emperor and the emperesse,
Lords and ladies on the deyse,
They satt and him byhilde.
They bed yeve the houndes mete ynowgh;
The domme man with hem gnowh,
There was his best beld.
Lords and ladies on the deyse,
They satt and him byhilde.
They bed yeve the houndes mete ynowgh;
The domme man with hem gnowh,
There was his best beld.
Thus among houndes he was fedde;
At even to his chamber he was ledde,
And yhelyd under a teld.
And every day he came to hall,
And Hobbe the Fool thei gan hym calle;
To Criste he gan him yelde.
At even to his chamber he was ledde,
And yhelyd under a teld.
And every day he came to hall,
And Hobbe the Fool thei gan hym calle;
To Criste he gan him yelde.
Than hadde the same emperor
A dowghter as white as lilie flowre,
Was, too, so dumme as he;
She wolde have spoke, but she ne myght,
Therefore ful ofte she sighed,
The ladi bright of blee.
A dowghter as white as lilie flowre,
Was, too, so dumme as he;
She wolde have spoke, but she ne myght,
Therefore ful ofte she sighed,
The ladi bright of blee.
193
To him she was a ful good frend,
And mete to houndes for his love wold send
Ful ofte and grete plenté.
Ether of hem loved other right,
But to other no word thei speke ne myght:
That was the more peté.
And mete to houndes for his love wold send
Ful ofte and grete plenté.
Ether of hem loved other right,
But to other no word thei speke ne myght:
That was the more peté.
Than in on morow come a masynger
To the emperor with sterne chere,
And said to him ful right:
“Syr, my lord wel greteth the,
That is Sowdan of Percé,
Man most of myght;
To the emperor with sterne chere,
And said to him ful right:
“Syr, my lord wel greteth the,
That is Sowdan of Percé,
Man most of myght;
And byddeth that thow shuldest him send
Thyn owne dowghter that is so hend,
That he myght hire wedde.”
The emperor said, “Y have none but oon,
And she is dumme as eny stone,
The fairest that ever was fedde.
Thyn owne dowghter that is so hend,
That he myght hire wedde.”
The emperor said, “Y have none but oon,
And she is dumme as eny stone,
The fairest that ever was fedde.
And Y will never, while Y am sownd,
Yeve hire to none hethyn hounde—
Than were my bales bredd!
Yet may she sum good halowe seche
Thorow grace of God to have speche.”
Agayn the massenger spedde;
Yeve hire to none hethyn hounde—
Than were my bales bredd!
Yet may she sum good halowe seche
Thorow grace of God to have speche.”
Agayn the massenger spedde;
And when he told his lord soo,
In that contree was moch woo;
The sowdan cam ful nere.
The emperor was dowghti man under shylde,
And mett the sowdan in the field,
For bothe had batayle there.
In that contree was moch woo;
The sowdan cam ful nere.
The emperor was dowghti man under shylde,
194
For bothe had batayle there.
Sir Gowghter went to chamber smert,
And bysowght God in his hert,
As He had bowght him dere,
To send him bothe armor and shilde
And hors to ride in the fild,
To help his lord yere.
And bysowght God in his hert,
As He had bowght him dere,
To send him bothe armor and shilde
And hors to ride in the fild,
To help his lord yere.
He ne had so sone that ithought,
A col-black stede was him ybrought,
Stode redy withowt the dore,
And armor of the same color.
Up he stert with grete honor;
He was both styf and store.
A col-black stede was him ybrought,
Stode redy withowt the dore,
And armor of the same color.
Up he stert with grete honor;
He was both styf and store.
Shyld on shulder gan he hong,
And cawght a swerd that was larg and long;
He spared nether lesse ne more.
Owt at the castel yates he went;
Al this saw the dumme lady gent
As she stode in hire towre.
And cawght a swerd that was larg and long;
He spared nether lesse ne more.
Owt at the castel yates he went;
Al this saw the dumme lady gent
As she stode in hire towre.
The sowdan, that was so sterne and stowte,
Ful fast in the fild he prikyd abowte;
To sembill his men he cast.
By that tyme Sir Gowghter was come there,
And many stowte shildes down he bere,
And laid on wonder fast.
Ful fast in the fild he prikyd abowte;
To sembill his men he cast.
By that tyme Sir Gowghter was come there,
And many stowte shildes down he bere,
And laid on wonder fast.
Grete stedes he made to staker,
And knyghts armour all to splatour
Whan blode thorow brenyys brast.
Many helmys there he hitt—
Upright myght thei not sitt,
But to the ground he hem cast.
And knyghts armour all to splatour
195
Many helmys there he hitt—
Upright myght thei not sitt,
But to the ground he hem cast.
He put the sowdan to flyght—
Sir Gowghter, so moch of myght—
He slow saresines bydene.
He rode home byfore the emperor;
Al this saw the lady in her towre,
That was bothe bright and shene.
Sir Gowghter, so moch of myght—
He slow saresines bydene.
He rode home byfore the emperor;
Al this saw the lady in her towre,
That was bothe bright and shene.
He went to his chamber and unarmyd him sone;
His hors and harneys away was done—
He nyst where it bycam.
When the emperor wessh and went to mete,
Undur the hegh bord he made his sete;
Two small raches to him come.
His hors and harneys away was done—
He nyst where it bycam.
When the emperor wessh and went to mete,
Undur the hegh bord he made his sete;
Two small raches to him come.
The lady toke twey greyhoundes fyn,
And wyssh here mouthes clene with wyne,
And put a lofe in that one,
And in tho toder flesch full god;
He rawght it fro him with eger mode—
Ful wel was him bygone.
And wyssh here mouthes clene with wyne,
And put a lofe in that one,
And in tho toder flesch full god;
He rawght it fro him with eger mode—
Ful wel was him bygone.
Whan he had made him wel at ese,
He went to chamber and toke his ese
Withyn that worthly wone;
On the morowe agayn come the massynger
Fro the sowdan with sterne chere;
To the emperor is he gone,
He went to chamber and toke his ese
Withyn that worthly wone;
On the morowe agayn come the massynger
Fro the sowdan with sterne chere;
To the emperor is he gone,
196
And said, “Sir, here is my letter;
My lord is come to assay the better;
Yesterday ye slow his men.
He hath asembled in the feld
Of dowghti sarezyns under shild
Syxti thowsand and ten.
My lord is come to assay the better;
Yesterday ye slow his men.
He hath asembled in the feld
Of dowghti sarezyns under shild
Syxti thowsand and ten.
On the he will avenjed be!”
“Hors and armour, than,” said he,
“Hastly had we thenne!”
God sent Sir Gowghter thorow His myght
A blode-rede stede and armour bryght;
He folowed thorow frith and fenne.
“Hors and armour, than,” said he,
“Hastly had we thenne!”
God sent Sir Gowghter thorow His myght
A blode-rede stede and armour bryght;
He folowed thorow frith and fenne.
Both parties have wel araid;
Sir Gowghter, as the story said,
Come ridyng hem betwene;
Grete steedis he made to stomble,
Knyghtes over hors backys to tomble,
That hardy were and kene.
Sir Gowghter, as the story said,
Come ridyng hem betwene;
Grete steedis he made to stomble,
Knyghtes over hors backys to tomble,
That hardy were and kene.
He hew asonder bothe helme and shylde,
Feld down here banere in the feld,
That were bothe bryght and shene;
He bet adown the saresyns blak,
And made here backes for to crake;
He kede that he was kene.
Feld down here banere in the feld,
That were bothe bryght and shene;
He bet adown the saresyns blak,
And made here backes for to crake;
He kede that he was kene.
“Now, dere God,” said the emperor,
“Whens com the knyght that is so styf and stowre,
And al araide in rede,
Both hors, armour, and his steede?
A thowsand sarezyns he hath made blede
And beten him to dethe,
“Whens com the knyght that is so styf and stowre,
And al araide in rede,
Both hors, armour, and his steede?
197
And beten him to dethe,
That heder is come to help me;
And yesterday in blak was he
That stered him in that stede,
Dyscomfytt the sawden and mony a sersyn,
And so he will er he goo hens:
His dentis ben hevy as lede.”
And yesterday in blak was he
That stered him in that stede,
Dyscomfytt the sawden and mony a sersyn,
And so he will er he goo hens:
His dentis ben hevy as lede.”
He behild his fawchon fel,
And saw he beset his stroke well,
And that he wastid none;
The emperor priked into his pres,
A nobill knyght withowten les;
He made the sowdan to gon.
And saw he beset his stroke well,
And that he wastid none;
The emperor priked into his pres,
A nobill knyght withowten les;
He made the sowdan to gon.
Sir Gowghter went to his chamber sone;
His hors and his armour away was done—
He wyst never whare.
The emperor wysshe and went to mete,
And with him other lordes grete
That at the bataile were.
His hors and his armour away was done—
He wyst never whare.
The emperor wysshe and went to mete,
And with him other lordes grete
That at the bataile were.
Undur the high bord Sir Gowghter him sett;
The lady haght here greyhoundes yfette
Prevely, as nothyng were.
She fed how, the ful sothe to say,
Right as she dyd the first day—
For no man wold she spare.
The lady haght here greyhoundes yfette
Prevely, as nothyng were.
She fed how, the ful sothe to say,
Right as she dyd the first day—
For no man wold she spare.
Lordes revelid in the hall;
There daunsid many a lady small
With here mynstralsi;
Sir Gowghter went to his bed and lay,
Him lystyd nothyng for to play,
For he was ful weri.
There daunsid many a lady small
198
Sir Gowghter went to his bed and lay,
Him lystyd nothyng for to play,
For he was ful weri.
For gret strokes that he had cawght
When he atte bataill fawght
Among the carfull crye.
His thowght was moch uppon his synne—
How he myght his sowle wynne
To blysse above the skye.
When he atte bataill fawght
Among the carfull crye.
His thowght was moch uppon his synne—
How he myght his sowle wynne
To blysse above the skye.
Than grette lordes to bedde were bown,
Knyghtes and squyers of grete renown,
In story as it is tolde.
Amorow agayn came the massynger
Fro the sowdan, with sterne chere,
And said, “Sir Emperor, thi joy is cold:
Knyghtes and squyers of grete renown,
In story as it is tolde.
Amorow agayn came the massynger
Fro the sowdan, with sterne chere,
And said, “Sir Emperor, thi joy is cold:
My lord hath sembled a new powere,
And byddeth the send thi dowghter dere;
Or dere hir love shall be sold,
Or he wull hurt the, body and bon,
And alyve leve not on
Of thy burgeys bold!”
And byddeth the send thi dowghter dere;
Or dere hir love shall be sold,
Or he wull hurt the, body and bon,
And alyve leve not on
Of thy burgeys bold!”
“I come to him;” said the emperor,
“I shall do semble a wol strong power
And mete him yf Y may—
Dowghti knyghts, large and long,
Wel y-armyd, ever among,
By high prime of the day,
“I shall do semble a wol strong power
And mete him yf Y may—
Dowghti knyghts, large and long,
Wel y-armyd, ever among,
By high prime of the day,
199
On hors redy with shilde and spere!”
The nobill knyght, Sir Gowghter,
To Jhesu Crist gan he pray
Shuld send him armour tite:
So had he, and a steede mylk white,
And rode after in good aray.
The nobill knyght, Sir Gowghter,
To Jhesu Crist gan he pray
Shuld send him armour tite:
So had he, and a steede mylk white,
And rode after in good aray.
Hys twey comyngs the domme lady had seen,
And his thyrdde wendyng, withowten wene;
She prayd for him full radde.
Rode he not with brag nor bost,
Bot preystely pryckyd after the ost;
He folowes ever the tradde.
And his thyrdde wendyng, withowten wene;
She prayd for him full radde.
Rode he not with brag nor bost,
Bot preystely pryckyd after the ost;
He folowes ever the tradde.
The emperor had the forward,
And Gowghter rode byfore his bard—
Of knyghtes he was odde.
Grete lordis of hethenesse to deth he throng,
And hire baners to the erth he slong;
His strokes fil full sadde.
And Gowghter rode byfore his bard—
Of knyghtes he was odde.
Grete lordis of hethenesse to deth he throng,
And hire baners to the erth he slong;
His strokes fil full sadde.
The sowdan bare in sabill blak
Thre lyons, withouten lak,
All of silvur shene;
On was crowned with goules reed,
Another with gold in that stede,
The thred with dyvers of grene.
Thre lyons, withouten lak,
All of silvur shene;
On was crowned with goules reed,
Another with gold in that stede,
The thred with dyvers of grene.
His helme was ful richely fret,
Al with riche charbocles bysett,
And dyamounds bytwene.
His batell was ful well araid,
And his baner ful brode displayed;
Sone after turned to him tene.
Al with riche charbocles bysett,
200
His batell was ful well araid,
And his baner ful brode displayed;
Sone after turned to him tene.
For the nobill knyght, Gowghtere,
He bare him so goodely in his gere,
Men nedeth no better to seche;
Al that he with his fawchon hit,
They fil to the grownd and rose not yet
To seke after no leche.
He bare him so goodely in his gere,
Men nedeth no better to seche;
Al that he with his fawchon hit,
They fil to the grownd and rose not yet
To seke after no leche.
Yet durst he never in anger ne tene
Speke no word, withouten wene,
For dred of Goddes wreche;
And thow him houngerd, he durst not ete
But such as from houndes he myght gete:
He did as the pope gan teche.
Speke no word, withouten wene,
For dred of Goddes wreche;
And thow him houngerd, he durst not ete
But such as from houndes he myght gete:
He did as the pope gan teche.
Thus did Sir Gowghter, the gentil knyght;
But the emperor, that was so sterne in sight,
Ful smartly he was tanne,
And away with the sowdan he was ledde.
Sir Gowghter rode after and made him leve his wedde,
And smote of his hede thanne.
But the emperor, that was so sterne in sight,
Ful smartly he was tanne,
And away with the sowdan he was ledde.
Sir Gowghter rode after and made him leve his wedde,
And smote of his hede thanne.
Thus rescued he his lord, and browght him agayne,
And thankid God, with hert fayne,
That formed both blode and bon.
Right with that come a sarezyn with a spere,
Thorow shilde and shulder smote Gowghter:
Tho made the domme lady mone.
And thankid God, with hert fayne,
That formed both blode and bon.
Right with that come a sarezyn with a spere,
201
Tho made the domme lady mone.
For sorow she saw that stowre;
She sowne and fill owt of hir towre,
And brak full negh hir necke;
Two squyres in hire bare,
And thre dais she moved not yare,
As thowh sho had be dede.
She sowne and fill owt of hir towre,
And brak full negh hir necke;
Two squyres in hire bare,
And thre dais she moved not yare,
As thowh sho had be dede.
The emperor wyssh and went to mete,
And with him other lords grete
That at the batteil hadde ben.
Sir Gowghter was wounded sare;
Into the hall he gan fare:
He myssyd the lady shene.
And with him other lords grete
That at the batteil hadde ben.
Sir Gowghter was wounded sare;
Into the hall he gan fare:
He myssyd the lady shene.
Among the houndes his mete he wan.
The emperor was a carful man
For his dowghter gent;
Massyngers were sent to Rome
After the pope, and he come sone
To here terement.
The emperor was a carful man
For his dowghter gent;
Massyngers were sent to Rome
After the pope, and he come sone
To here terement.
Whan cardynales herd this tidyngis,
Thei come to hir beryeng.
Such grace God hath here sent
That she stered hirself and ras
And spake wordes that witti was
To Sir Gowghter, with good entent,
Thei come to hir beryeng.
Such grace God hath here sent
That she stered hirself and ras
And spake wordes that witti was
To Sir Gowghter, with good entent,
And said, “My Lord of Hevyn greteth the well;
Foryeve ben thi synnes, every dell,
And graunteth the His blysse;
He byddeth the speke boldely,
To ete and drynk, and make the mery;
Thowe shalt ben on of His!
Foryeve ben thi synnes, every dell,
202
He byddeth the speke boldely,
To ete and drynk, and make the mery;
Thowe shalt ben on of His!
Fader,” she said to the emperor,
“This is the knyght that hath fowghten in stowre
For yow in thre batellis, ywys.”
The pope that shroffe Gowghter at Rome,
Byknew him whan he theder come,
And lowly gan him kys:
“This is the knyght that hath fowghten in stowre
For yow in thre batellis, ywys.”
The pope that shroffe Gowghter at Rome,
Byknew him whan he theder come,
And lowly gan him kys:
“Now art thow bycome Godes child;
The dare not dred of thi workys wyld;
Forsothe, I tell it the.”
Thorow grace of God and the popis asent
He was made wedde the lady gent,
That curtays was and fre;
The dare not dred of thi workys wyld;
Forsothe, I tell it the.”
Thorow grace of God and the popis asent
He was made wedde the lady gent,
That curtays was and fre;
She was a lady good and faire,
Of all hir fader lands eyre;
A better may none be.
The pope wold no lenger lend,
But yaf him all his blessyng hend;
To Rome than went he.
Of all hir fader lands eyre;
A better may none be.
The pope wold no lenger lend,
But yaf him all his blessyng hend;
To Rome than went he.
Whan the fest was browght to ende,
Sir Gowghter gan to Ostryche wend,
And gaff the old erl all;
Of all his faderis londes he made him eyre,
And made him wedde his moder fayre,
That was bothe gentill and small.
Sir Gowghter gan to Ostryche wend,
And gaff the old erl all;
Of all his faderis londes he made him eyre,
And made him wedde his moder fayre,
That was bothe gentill and small.
203
Sygthe he bildyd an abbay
And yaf therto rent for ay,
And said, “Be beried here I shall”;
And thereyn put monkes blake
To rede and syng for Goddes sake,
And closid it withyn a wall;
And yaf therto rent for ay,
And said, “Be beried here I shall”;
And thereyn put monkes blake
To rede and syng for Goddes sake,
And closid it withyn a wall;
For thowh the pope had him yshreve,
And his synnes were foreyeve,
Yet was his hert full sore
That he shuld so wyckedly werch,
To brenne the nonnes in here cherch;
Another abbay made he thore.
And his synnes were foreyeve,
Yet was his hert full sore
That he shuld so wyckedly werch,
To brenne the nonnes in here cherch;
Another abbay made he thore.
There he did make another abbay,
And put theryn monkes gray,
That mykill cowde of lore—
To syng and rede to the worldeys ende
For the nonnes that he brend,
All that Cristen were.
And put theryn monkes gray,
That mykill cowde of lore—
To syng and rede to the worldeys ende
For the nonnes that he brend,
All that Cristen were.
Thus went Sir Gowghter home agayn;
By that tyme he come to Almayn,
His wyfis fader was dede.
Tho was he lord and emperor;
Of all Cristendome he bare the flowre,
Above the sarezyns hede.
By that tyme he come to Almayn,
His wyfis fader was dede.
Tho was he lord and emperor;
Of all Cristendome he bare the flowre,
Above the sarezyns hede.
What man bad him for Godds sake do,
Trewly he was redy therto,
And stode pouer men in stede;
And mayntayned pouer men in here right,
And halp holy chirche with his myght,
Thus cawght he better rede;
Trewly he was redy therto,
And stode pouer men in stede;
And mayntayned pouer men in here right,
204
Thus cawght he better rede;
And levid in good lyf many a yere,
Emperor of grete powere,
And wisely gan he wake.
Whan he dayed, forsoth to say,
He was beryed in that abbay
That he first gan make;
Emperor of grete powere,
And wisely gan he wake.
Whan he dayed, forsoth to say,
He was beryed in that abbay
That he first gan make;
There he lyeth in a shryne of gold
And doth maracles, as it is told,
And hatt Seynt Gotlake.
He make blynd men for to se,
Wode men to have here wit, parde,
Crokyd here crucches forsake.
And doth maracles, as it is told,
And hatt Seynt Gotlake.
He make blynd men for to se,
Wode men to have here wit, parde,
Crokyd here crucches forsake.
This tale is wreten in parchemen,
In a stori good and fyn,
In the first lay of Britayne;
Now God that is of myghtis most,
Fader and Sone and Holy Gost,
Of owre sowles be fayne!
In a stori good and fyn,
In the first lay of Britayne;
Now God that is of myghtis most,
Fader and Sone and Holy Gost,
Of owre sowles be fayne!
All that hath herd this talkyng—
Lytill, moche, old, and yyng—
Yblyssyd mote they be;
God yeve hem grace whan they shal ende,
To hevyn blys here sowles wend
With angelys bryght of ble.
Lytill, moche, old, and yyng—
Yblyssyd mote they be;
God yeve hem grace whan they shal ende,
To hevyn blys here sowles wend
With angelys bryght of ble.
Amen, pur charite.
Explicit Vita Sancti.
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