 | Guy of Warwick |  |
Þe douk answerd anon riȝt:
‘So help me god, ful of miȝt,
Also þou wilt, þou schalt do.’
Wiþ þat is Gij þennes y-go;
In-to þe way he dede him anon
Þer þemperour schuld forþ gon.
Þemperour bi þe morwe aros,
Into his forest he rideþ & gos:
A gret bore þai founden, y-wis,
& hij vncopled her houndis;
Her hornes þai blewe loude & stille,
Her houndes vrn wiþ gode wille.
‘So help me god, ful of miȝt,
Also þou wilt, þou schalt do.’
Wiþ þat is Gij þennes y-go;
In-to þe way he dede him anon
Þer þemperour schuld forþ gon.
Þemperour bi þe morwe aros,
Into his forest he rideþ & gos:
A gret bore þai founden, y-wis,
& hij vncopled her houndis;
Her hornes þai blewe loude & stille,
Her houndes vrn wiþ gode wille.
Þemperour biheld sone wiþ þan
Unto a diche þat water in ran;
He seyd, ‘y-treyst we ben here:
Sir Tirri, mi frende dere,
No sestow hou þat ȝonder ride
Kniȝtes? þai ben of gret pride.
On ich halue bisett we beþ,
Nis her nouȝt bot þe deþ.
Felawes þai be þe douke Segyn,
Whom þat god ȝif iuel fin!
Gij of Warwike þer y sey,
Y-armed on his stede an hey.’
‘Sir emperour,’ quod Tirri anon,
‘For þe rode loue þat god was on don,
Ich þe bidde, hennes go now,
For godes loue no lenge bileue þou!
& ichil here bileuen ay,
& ȝif ich Gij mete may,
Wiþ meschaunce y schal him gret,
& al his feren þat y mete.
Ar ich be ded or nomen be
Þou schalt passe al þis cuntre.’
Þemperour seyd, ‘for soþe, y nille:
Here ichil wiþ ȝou duelle.’
Hastiliche þai armed hem anon,
& lepe her gode stedes opon.
Unto a diche þat water in ran;
148
Sir Tirri, mi frende dere,
No sestow hou þat ȝonder ride
Kniȝtes? þai ben of gret pride.
On ich halue bisett we beþ,
Nis her nouȝt bot þe deþ.
Felawes þai be þe douke Segyn,
Whom þat god ȝif iuel fin!
Gij of Warwike þer y sey,
Y-armed on his stede an hey.’
‘Sir emperour,’ quod Tirri anon,
‘For þe rode loue þat god was on don,
Ich þe bidde, hennes go now,
For godes loue no lenge bileue þou!
& ichil here bileuen ay,
& ȝif ich Gij mete may,
Wiþ meschaunce y schal him gret,
& al his feren þat y mete.
Ar ich be ded or nomen be
Þou schalt passe al þis cuntre.’
Þemperour seyd, ‘for soþe, y nille:
Here ichil wiþ ȝou duelle.’
Hastiliche þai armed hem anon,
& lepe her gode stedes opon.
Wiþ þat come Gij prikeinde,
& a smal tvige in his hond bereinde
Of oliue, in token of pais:
To þemperour he grad as curteys,
& seyd, ‘god, þat alle þing may se,
Sir emperour, so loke þe
Þiselue, & al þi meyne,
Þat in place wiþ þe be!
Þe douke Segyn þe sent bi me
Þat trewþe & loue he wil to þe,
& biddeþ þe als his lord dere,
Þeselue, & alle þine fere,
Þat wiþ þe ben togider here,
Þat ȝe come to him to þe dinere;
And his gode cite he wil þe ȝelde
Wiþ al his castels he haþ in welde;
& ȝif he haue don oȝain skille,
He wille amende it to þi wille.’
& a smal tvige in his hond bereinde
Of oliue, in token of pais:
To þemperour he grad as curteys,
& seyd, ‘god, þat alle þing may se,
Sir emperour, so loke þe
Þiselue, & al þi meyne,
Þat in place wiþ þe be!
Þe douke Segyn þe sent bi me
Þat trewþe & loue he wil to þe,
& biddeþ þe als his lord dere,
Þeselue, & alle þine fere,
150
Þat ȝe come to him to þe dinere;
And his gode cite he wil þe ȝelde
Wiþ al his castels he haþ in welde;
& ȝif he haue don oȝain skille,
He wille amende it to þi wille.’
When þemperour herd him speke so,
& so gret loue bede him to,
Þe king of Hongrie he cleped þo,
And sir Tirri he dede also:
‘Lordinges,’ he seyd, ‘what schal we do?
Rede ȝe þat we þider go?’
& so gret loue bede him to,
Þe king of Hongrie he cleped þo,
And sir Tirri he dede also:
‘Lordinges,’ he seyd, ‘what schal we do?
Rede ȝe þat we þider go?’
[_]
The Caius MS. has been followed from line 2565 to line 2717; text is missing from the Auchinleck MS.
Than seide Terry to the Emperour:
‘The Duke you dooth grete honour,
Whan he his Citees and Castellis echoone,
That stronge been of lyme and stoone,
All deliuere at thyn owne wille
(Thanke thou owest him by reason and skille),
And at thy wille his body doo.
Wende ye thider, y rede you so;
For, if he doo as thise men haue highte,
More Worship the doo he ne mighte;
For with strength thou getest this profre neuere,
With all the power that thou kan keuer.’
‘I woll,’ quoth the Emperour, ‘that it so bee,
Bot that y him nought see,
Till y haue counsailled me
With my barons that in their hostage bee.’
With that they gynne for to wende,
And of accorde speke the knightis hende.
To Ransone they bee come,
And richely there they bee vnder-noome;
And Guy him dresseth with all his might
Well to serue bothe baron and knight:
Ther was yoman ne swayne noon,
Bot Guy theim yiftes yaue good woon.
Whan it was nyghte, to bedde they goo,
And erly arise withoute moo.
To the Chirche the Emperour is goo,
For to here his masse tho.
His eerles and barons aboute him gan stonde,
That were of many dyuerse londe;
And the Duke there was nought,
For the Emperour hym hated in his thought.
The same daye tymely
The Duke aroosse full eerly:
Rewthfully he dighte him there
In his sherte allone with open heere:
A stronge roope he toke thoo,
And aboute his nekke he gan it doo.
Than to his prisouners he is goon,
And theim dooth reson oon by oon:
‘Lordinges, barouns, y bidde you,
That ye woll prey for me now
To our lorde, so well ye may,
That he me foryiue this same day
His wrathe and his male-talent.’
And all they him graunte with oon assent.
Than he threwe his mantell of:
Many man had grete rewthe therof.
In his sherte he stode allone:
For him was made mikell mone.
To the Emperour he gooth soo,
An Olyue boughwe in his handes twoo,
That pees shuld beetoken betwene theim.
All weping his wey forth he doth kenne.
Thurgh the strete barefote he gooth
And barehede in his sherte forsoth
With a roope aboute his swere:
Many man behelde him there.
Erles and Dukes of grete valour
For him they preide to the Emperour:
On their knees vpon the stoon
For him they besoughte euerychoon,
That he wolde haue mercy of Segwyn
For goddis loue and seynte Martyn.
With that is Segwyn to the Chirche come,
On his knees he felle full sone:
Of the Emperour he besoughte mercy
For goddis loue and oure Lady.
‘The Duke you dooth grete honour,
Whan he his Citees and Castellis echoone,
That stronge been of lyme and stoone,
All deliuere at thyn owne wille
(Thanke thou owest him by reason and skille),
And at thy wille his body doo.
Wende ye thider, y rede you so;
For, if he doo as thise men haue highte,
More Worship the doo he ne mighte;
For with strength thou getest this profre neuere,
With all the power that thou kan keuer.’
‘I woll,’ quoth the Emperour, ‘that it so bee,
Bot that y him nought see,
Till y haue counsailled me
With my barons that in their hostage bee.’
With that they gynne for to wende,
And of accorde speke the knightis hende.
To Ransone they bee come,
And richely there they bee vnder-noome;
And Guy him dresseth with all his might
Well to serue bothe baron and knight:
Ther was yoman ne swayne noon,
Bot Guy theim yiftes yaue good woon.
153
And erly arise withoute moo.
To the Chirche the Emperour is goo,
For to here his masse tho.
His eerles and barons aboute him gan stonde,
That were of many dyuerse londe;
And the Duke there was nought,
For the Emperour hym hated in his thought.
The same daye tymely
The Duke aroosse full eerly:
Rewthfully he dighte him there
In his sherte allone with open heere:
A stronge roope he toke thoo,
And aboute his nekke he gan it doo.
Than to his prisouners he is goon,
And theim dooth reson oon by oon:
‘Lordinges, barouns, y bidde you,
That ye woll prey for me now
To our lorde, so well ye may,
That he me foryiue this same day
His wrathe and his male-talent.’
And all they him graunte with oon assent.
Than he threwe his mantell of:
Many man had grete rewthe therof.
In his sherte he stode allone:
For him was made mikell mone.
To the Emperour he gooth soo,
An Olyue boughwe in his handes twoo,
That pees shuld beetoken betwene theim.
All weping his wey forth he doth kenne.
Thurgh the strete barefote he gooth
And barehede in his sherte forsoth
With a roope aboute his swere:
Many man behelde him there.
Erles and Dukes of grete valour
For him they preide to the Emperour:
155
For him they besoughte euerychoon,
That he wolde haue mercy of Segwyn
For goddis loue and seynte Martyn.
With that is Segwyn to the Chirche come,
On his knees he felle full sone:
Of the Emperour he besoughte mercy
For goddis loue and oure Lady.
| Guy of Warwick | |