 | Guy of Warwick |  |
Þan seyd Gij, ‘Gwichard, y nille:
To ȝeld me to þe is nouȝt mi wille,
Þer-whiles ichaue mi swerd y-grounde,
& mi bodi wiþouten wounde.’
Gwichard smot Gij wiþ michel miȝt
Opon þe helme þat schon so briȝt,
Þat a quarter out fleye;
Þe kniȝt was boþe queynt & sleye.
Opon his scholder þat swerd glod,
Of his hauberk it tok a pece brod;
God saued Gij þat he nas ded,
No for þat dint hadde no qued.
To ȝeld me to þe is nouȝt mi wille,
Þer-whiles ichaue mi swerd y-grounde,
& mi bodi wiþouten wounde.’
Gwichard smot Gij wiþ michel miȝt
Opon þe helme þat schon so briȝt,
Þat a quarter out fleye;
Þe kniȝt was boþe queynt & sleye.
Opon his scholder þat swerd glod,
Of his hauberk it tok a pece brod;
God saued Gij þat he nas ded,
No for þat dint hadde no qued.
| Guy of Warwick | |