University of Virginia Library

Of Gij ichil lete now,
And more after y schal tel ȝou;
Of Herhaud ichil telle astounde
Þat wele is heled of his wounde.
When he feld him hole & fere,
Of þabot he tok his leue þer;
His lord Gij he goþ secheing
Niȝt & day, him for to finde:
Toward Inglond he tok his way,
Crist him saue, so wele he may!
At a pinacle bi þe se
Gij seye a man of rewly ble
Go in pilgrims wede:
Þat was Herhaud, so god me spede!
Gij him cleped wel swiþe to him,
& seyd, ‘wen comestow, pilgrim?’
‘Sir,’ he seyd, ‘y com fram Lombardy,
Of hard y-schaped for þe maistrie;

& lorn ichaue mi kinde lord:
Gode kniȝt he was and bold.
Bitraid ous hadde þe douk Otoun:
Haue he Cristes malisoun!
In þis wise ichil go,
& bid for mi lord euer mo.’
‘Pilgrim, say me trewelich,
What hete þe man þou loued so miche?’
‘Gij of Warwike was his name:
A kniȝt he was wiþ-outen blame.’
Wiþ þat he gan to sike sore,
& wepe wiþ his eyȝen þerfore;
He him miȝt no lenge at-held.
Gij him gan reweliche biheld:
‘Gode man,’ quod Gij, ‘for þi leute,
What is þi name? telle thou me.’
‘Herhaud of Ardern, bi mi leute,
Ich was y-born in þat cuntre;
Fif ȝer þus ichaue y-go
To seche Gij y loued so.’
When Gij herd Herhaud speke,
Him thouȝt his hert wald to-breke,
& in his armes he haþ him take,
& gret ioie wiþ him gan make;
Him he kist wel mani siþe:
For ioie he wepe, so was he bliþe.
‘Hayl, Herhaud, maister min!
No knowestow nouȝt norri þine?’
‘Certes,’ quod Herhaud, ‘sir, nay:
Ded he was for mani a day.’
He him answerd, ‘icham Gij!’
‘Sir,’ quod Herhaud, ‘merci!’
Sone so Herhaud vnder-stode
Þat it was Gij þat was so gode,
For ioie he fel aswon anon;
Gij him in his armes nome.
Þer men miȝt se ioie make
Aiþer kniȝt for oþer sake;
Þer nas non þat it y-seye,
Þat he no wepe wiþ his eyȝe.

Adoun þai sett hem boþe þare,
& aiþer teld of oþeres care.
Sir Gij haþ Herhaud y-teld
Hou he him ladde out of þe feld,
For to birry him at on abbay
Þat was bisiden on þe way.
& seþþen haþ Herhaud y-teld
Hou his woundes weren y-heled,
And þat mani lond he hadde ouergo,
To seche his lord wiþ sorwe & wo.
On hors þai lopen anon wiþ þis
Vnto a cite wiþ ioie and blis;
Þan dede Gij Herhaud baþey
& wiþ riche metes comforti.
From þennes þai went to þe douk Miloun,
And to him þai ben ful welcome;
Of her auentours þai teld him þere:
Hou þo was gode þat wicke was ere!
Þer þai maden her dueling
Long anouȝ to her likeing.

At the douke þai token leue þo,
For in-to Inglond þai wald go.
Þe douke hem wald lenger duelle,
Ac it nas no-thing in her wille
Þer to bileue wiþ him no more,
& þat biþouȝt þe douke wel sore.
Toward Seynt Omer he is y-go,
Herhaud þe gode wiþ him also;
Toward þe se þai token her way,
So swiþe her hors hem bere may.
When þai ben to toun y-come,
Her in þai han sone y-nome.
To a windowe sir Gij is go,
In-to þe strete he loked þo;
A palmer he seȝe cominge,
Messaisliche bi þe strete walkinge.
To him haþ y-cleped sir Gij,
& curteysliche gan him axi,
‘Weltow herberwe? for it is niȝt;
For ferþer go þou no miȝt.’
Þe pilgrim answerd Gij,
‘Swete sir, gramerci!’
Gij doþ him þan bileue,
Ferþer he no may, for it was eue;
& seþþe he badde he schuld him say
Sum soþ tidinges of þe way,
Ȝif he herd neye oþer fer
Speken of batayle & of wer.
‘Ichil þe telle,’ he seyd, ‘fot hot
Of al þe wer þat y wot:
Þerof is mani man aferd;
Of stronger sorwe no haue ȝe herd.’

Gij seyd to him, ‘telle it me.’
‘For soþe y graunt,’ þan seyd he.