 | Scottish Alliterative Poems |  |
1
THE KNIGHTLY TALE OF GOLAGROS AND GAWANE.
I
In the tyme of Arthur, as trew men me tald,The king turnit on ane tyde towart Tuskane,
Hym to seik our the sey, that saiklese wes sald,
The syre that sendis all seill, suthly to sane;
With banrentis, barounis, and bernis full bald,
Biggast of bane and blude bred in Britane.
Thai walit out werryouris with wapinnis to wald,
The gayest grumys on grund, with geir that myght gane;
Dukis and digne lordis, douchty and deir,
Sembillit to his summovne,
Renkis of grete renovne,
Cumly kingis with crovne
Of gold that wes cleir.
II
Thus the royale can remove, with his Round Tabill,Of all riches maist rike, in riall array.
Wes neuer fundun on fold, but fenȝeing or fabill,
Ane farayr floure on ane feild of fresch men, in fay;
2
Mony sterne our the streit stertis on stray.
Thair baneris schane with the sone, of siluer and sabill,
And vthir glemyt as gold and gowlis so gay;
Of siluer and saphir schirly thai schane;
Ane fair battell on breid,
Merkit our ane fair meid;
With spurris spedely thai speid
Our fellis, in fane.
III
The king faris with his folk, our firthis and fellis,Feill dais or he fand of flynd or of fyre;
Bot deip dalis bedene, dovnis and dellis,
Montains and marresse, with mony rank myre;
Birkin bewis about, boggis and wellis,
With outin beilding of blis, of bern or of byre;
Bot torris and tene wais, teirfull quha tellis.
Tuglit and travalit thus trew men can tyre,
Sa wundir wait wes the way, wit ye but wene;
And all thair vittalis war gone,
That thay weildit in wone;
Resset couth thai find none
That suld thair bute bene.
IV
As thay walkit be the syde of ane fair well,Throu the schynyng of the son ane ciete thai se,
With torris and turatis, teirfull to tell,
Bigly batollit about with wallis sa he.
The yettis war clenely kepit with ane castell;
Myght none fang it with force, bot foullis to fle.
Than carpit king Arthur, kene and cruell:
“I rede we send furth ane saynd to yone ciete,
3
That we myght entir in his toune,
For his hie renoune,
To by vs vittale boune,
For money to meid.”
V
Schir Kay carpit to the king, courtes and cleir:“Grant me, lord, on yone gait graithly to gay;
And I sall boid-word, but abaid, bring to you heir,
Gif he be freik on the fold your freynd or your fay.”
“Sen thi will is to wend, wy, now in weir,
Luke that wisly thow wirk, Criste were the fra wa!”
The berne bovnit to the burgh with ane blith cheir,
Fand the yettis vnclosit, and thrang in full thra.
His hors he tyit to ane tre, treuly that tyde;
Syne hynt to ane hie hall
That wes astalit with pall;
Weill wroght wes the wall,
And payntit with pride.
VI
The sylour deir of the deise dayntely wes dentWith the doughtyest in thair dais dyntis couth dele;
Bright letteris of gold blith vnto blent,
Makand mencioune quha maist of manhede couth mele.
He saw nane levand leid vpone loft lent,
Nouthir lord na lad, leif ye the lele.
The renk raikit in the saill, riale and gent,
That wondir wisly wes wroght with wourschip and wele.
The berne besely and bane blenkit hym about;
He saw throu ane entre
Charcole in ane chymne;
Ane bright fyre couth he se
Birnand full stout.
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VII
Ane duergh braydit about, besily and bane,Small birdis on broche be ane bright fyre.
Schir Kay ruschit to the roist, and reft fra the swane,
Lightly claught, throu lust, the lym fra the lyre;
To feid hym of that fyne fude the freik wes full fane;
Than dynnyt the duergh, in angir and yre,
With raris, quhil the rude hall reirdit agane.
With that come girdand in greif ane woundir grym sire;
With stout contenance and sture he stude thame beforne,
With vesage lufly and lang,
Body stalwart and strang;
That sege wald sit with none wrang
Of berne that wes borne.
VIII
The knyght carpit to schir Kay, cruel and kene:“Me think thow fedis the vnfair, freik, be my fay!
Suppose thi birny be bright, as bachiler suld ben,
Yhit ar thi latis vnlufsum and ladlike, I lay.
Quhy has thow marrit my man, with maistri to mene?
Bot thow mend hym that mys, be Mary, mylde may,
Thow sall rew in thi ruse, wit thow but wene,
Or thou wend of this wane wemeles away!”
Schir Kay wes haisty and hate, and of ane hie will;
Spedely to hym spak:
“Schort amendis will I mak;
Thi schore compt I noght ane caik,
Traist wele thair till.”
IX
Thair vith the grume, in his grief, leit gird to schir Kay,Fellit the freke with his fist flat in the flure.
He wes sa astonayt with the straik, in stede quhare he lay,
Stok still as ane stane, the sterne wes sa sture!
5
The tothir drew hym on dreigh, in derne to the dure,
Hyit hym hard throu the hall to his haiknay,
And sped hym on spedely on the spare mure.
The renk restles he raid to Arthour the king;
Said: “lord, wendis on your way,
Yone berne nykis yow with nay;
To prise hym forthir to pray,
It helpis na thing.”
X
Than spak schir Gawane the gay, gratious and gude:“Schir, ye knaw that schir Kay is crabbit of kynde;
I rede ye mak furth ane man, mekar of mude,
That will with fairnes fraist frendschip to fynd.
Your folk ar febill and faynt for falt of thair fude;
Sum better boid-word to abide, vndir wod lynd.”
“Schir Gawyne, graith ye that gait, for the gude rude!
Is nane sa bowsum ane berne, brith for to bynd.”
The heynd knight at his haist held to the tovne;
The yettis wappit war wyde,
The knyght can raithly in ryde;
Reynit his palfray of pryde,
Quhen he ves lightit doune.
XI
Schir Gawyne gais furth the gait, that graithit wes gay,The quhilk that held to the hall heyndly to se;
Than wes the syre in the saill, with renkis of array,
And blith birdis hym about, that bright wes of ble.
Wourthy schir Gawyne went on his way;
Sobirly the souerane salust has he:
“I am send to your self, ane charge for to say,
Fra cumly Arthur, the king, cortesse and fre;
Quhilk prays for his saik and your gentrice,
6
To by vittale at will,
Alse deir as segis will sell,
Payand the price.”
XII
Than said the syre of the saill and the souerane:“I will na vittale be sauld your senyeour vntill.”
“That is at your avne will,” said wourthy Gawane;
“To mak you lord of your avne, me think it grete skill.”
Than right gudly that grome ansuerit agane:
“Quhy I tell the this taill, tak tent now thair till:
Pase on thi purpos furth to the plane;
For all the wyis I weild ar at his avne will
How to luge and to leynd, and in my land lent;
Gif I sauld hym his awin,
It war wrang to be knawin;
Than war I wourthy to be drawin
Baldly on bent.
XIII
“Thare come ane laithles leid air to this place,With ane girdill ourgilt, and vthir light gere;
It kythit be his cognisance ane knight that he wes,
Bot he wes ladlike of laitis, and light of his fere.
The verray cause of his come I knew noght the cace,
Bot wondirly wraithly he wroght, and all as of were.
Yit wait I noght quhat he is, be Goddis grete grace!
Bot gif it happin that he be ane knyght of youris here,
Has done my lord to displeise, that I hym said ryght,
And his presence plane,
I say yow in certane,
He salbe set agane,
As I am trew knight!”
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XIV
Schir Gavyne gettis his leif, and grathis to his steid,And broght to the bauld king boidword of blis:
“Weill gretis yow, lord, yone lusty in leid,
And says hym likis in land your langour to lis;
All the wyis and welth he weildis in theid
Sall halely be at your will, all that is his.”
Than he merkit with myrth our ane grene meid,
With all the best, to the burgh, of lordis, I wis.
The knight kepit the king, cumly and cleir;
With lordis and ladyis of estate,
Met hym furth on the gate,
Syne tuke him in at yate
With ane blith cheir.
XV
He had that heynd to ane hall, hiely on hight,With dukis and digne lordis, doughty in deid.
“Ye ar welcum, cumly king,” said the kene knyght,
“Ay, quhil you likis and list, to luge in this leid.
Heir I mak yow of myne maister of myght,
Of all the wyis and welth I weild in this steid.
Thair is na ridand roy, be resoun and right,
Sa deir welcum this day, doutles but dreid.
I am your cousing of kyn, I mak to yow knawin;
This kyth and this castell,
Firth, forest and fell,
Ay, quhill yow likis to duell,
Ressaue as your awin.
XVI
“I may refresch yow with folk, to feght gif you nedis,With thretty thousand tald, and traistfully tight,
Of wise, wourthy and wight, in thair were wedis,
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Weill stuffit in steill, on thair stout stedis.”
Than said king Arthur hym self, seymly be sight:
“Sic frendschip I hald fair, that forssis thair dedis;
Thi kyndnes salbe quyt, as I am trew knight.”
Than thay buskit to the bynke, beirnis of the best;
The king crovnit with gold,
Dukis deir to behold,
Allyns the banrent bold
Gladit his gest.
XVII
Thair myght seruice be sene, with segis in saill,Thoght all selcought war soght fra the son to the see;
Wynis went within that wane, maist wourthy to vaill,
In coupis of cleir gold, brichtest of blee.
It war full teir for to tell treuly in taill
The seir courssis that war set in that semblee.
The meriest war menskit on mete, at the maill,
With menstralis myrthfully makand thame glee.
Thus thay solaist thame selvin, suthly to say,
Al thay four days to end;
The king thankit the heynd,
Syne tuke his leve for to wend,
And went on his way.
XVIII
Thus refreschit he his folk in grete fusioun,With outin wanting in waill, wastell or wyne.
Thai turssit vp tentis and turnit of toun,
The roy with his Round Tabill, richest of ryne.
Thay drive on the da deir be dalis and doun,
And of the nobillest be-name, noumerit of nyne.
Quhen it drew to the dirk nycht, and the day yeid doun,
Thai plantit doun pauillonis, proudly fra thine.
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Ithandly ilk day,
Throu mony fer contray,
Our the mountains gay,
Holtis and hillis.
XIX
Thai passit in thare pilgramage, the proudest in pall,The prince provit in prese, that prise wes and deir;
Syne war thai war of ane wane, wrocht with ane wal,
Reirdit on ane riche roche, beside ane riveir,
With doubill dykis be-dene drawin our all;
Micht nane thame note with invy, nor nygh thame to neir.
The land wes likand in large and lufsum to call;
Propir schene schane the son, seymly and seir.
The king stude vesiand the wall, maist vailyeand to se:
On that river he saw
Cumly towris to knaw;
The roy rekinnit on raw
Thretty and thre.
XX
Apone that riche river, randonit full evin,The side-wallis war set, sad to the see;
Scippis saland thame by, sexty and sevyn,
To send, quhen thame self list, in seir cuntre,
That al thai that ar wrocht vndir the hie hevin
Micht nocht warne thame at wil to ische nor entre.
Than carpit the cumly king, with ane lowd stevin:
“Yone is the seymliast sicht that euer couth I se.
Gif thair be ony keyne knycht that can tell it,
Quha is lord of yone land,
Lusty and likand,
Or quham of is he haldand,
Fayne wald I wit.”
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XXI
Than schir Spynagrose with speche spak to the king:“Yone lord haldis of nane leid, that yone land aw,
Bot euer-lesting but legiance, to his leving,
As his eldaris has done, enduring his daw.”
“Hevinly god!” said the heynd, “how happynis this thing?
Herd thair euer ony sage sa selcouth ane saw!
Sal neuer myne hart be in saill na in liking,
Bot gif I loissing my life, or be laid law,
Be the pilgramage compleit I pas for saull prow,
Bot dede be my destenyng,
He sall at my agane cumyng
Mak homage and oblissing,
I mak myne avow!”
XXII
“A! lord, sparis of sic speche, quhill ye speir more,For abandonit will he noght be to berne that is borne.
Or he be strenyeit with strenth, yone sterne for to schore,
Mony ledis salbe loissit, and liffis forlorne.
Spekis na succeudry, for Cristis sone deir!
Yone knicht to scar with skaitht ye chaip nocht but scorne.
It is full fair for to be fallow and feir
To the best that has bene brevit you beforne.
The myghty king of Massidone, wourthiest but wene,
Thair gat he nane homage,
For all his hie parage,
Of lord of yone lynage,
Nor neuer none sene,
XXIII
“The wy that wendis for to were quhen he wenys best,All his will in this warld, with welthis I wys,
Yit sall be licht as leif of the lynd lest,
11
Your mycht and your maieste mesure but mys.”
“In faith,” said the cumly king, “trou ye full traist,
My hecht sall haldin be, for baill or for blis.
Sall neuer my likame be laid vnlaissit to sleip,
Quhill I haue gart yone berne bow,
As I haue maid myne auow,
Or ellis mony wedou
Ful wraithly sal weip.”
XXIV
Thair wes na man that durst mel to the king,Quhan thai saw that mighty sa mouit in his mude.
The roy rial raid withoutin resting,
And socht to the ciete of Criste, our the salt flude.
With mekil honour in erd he maid his offering,
Syne buskit hame the samyne way that he before yude.
Thayr wes na spurris to spair, spedely thai spring;
Thai brochit blonkis to thair sidis brist of rede blude.
Thus the roy and his rout restles thai raid
Ithandly ilk day,
Our the montains gay,
To Rome tuke the reddy way,
Withoutin mare abaid.
XXV
Thai plantit doun ane pailyeoun, vpone ane plane lee,Of pall and of pillour that proudly wes picht,
With rapis of rede gold, riale to see,
And grete ensenyes of the samyne, semly by sicht;
Bordouris about, that bricht war of ble,
Betin with brint gold, burely and bricht;
Frenyeis of fyne silk, fretit ful fre
With deir dyamonthis bedene, that dayntely wes dicht.
12
Callit knichtis sa kene,
Dukis douchty bedene:
“I rede we cast ws betuene,
How best is to done.”
XXVI
Than spak ane vight weriour, wourthy and wise:“I rede ane sayndis-man ye send to yone senyeour,
Of the proudest in pall, and haldin of prise,
Wise, vailyeing, and moist of valour.
Gif yone douchty in deid wil do your deuise,
Be boune at your bidding in burgh and in bour,
Ressaue him reuerendly, as resoun in lyis; [OMITTED]
And gif he nykis you with nay, yow worthis on neid
For to assege yone castel
With cant men and cruel,
Durandly for to duel
Euer quhill ye speid.”
XXVII
Than shir Gauane the gay, grete of degre,And shir Lancelot de Lake, without lesing,
And auenand schir Ewin, thai ordanit that thre
To the schore chiftane, chargit fra the kyng.
Spynagros than spekis, said: “lordingis in le,
I rede ye tent treuly to my teching;
For I knaw yone bauld berne better than ye,
His land, and his lordschip, and his leuing.
And ye ar thre in this thede, thriuand oft in thrang;
War al your strenthis in ane,
In his grippis and ye gane,
He wald ourcum yow ilkane;
Yone sterne is sa strang.
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XXVIII
“And he is maid on mold meik as ane child,Blith and bousum that berne as byrd in hir bour,
Fayr of fell and of face as flour vnfild,
Wondir staluart and strang, to striue in ane stour.
Thairfore meikly with mouth mel to that myld,
And mak him na manance, bot al mesoure.
Thus with trety ye cast yon trew vndre tyld,
And faynd his frendschip to fang with fyne fauour.
It hynderis neuer for to be heyndly of speche;
He is ane lord riale,
Ane seymly souerane in sale,
Ane wourthy wy for to wale,
Throu all this varld reche.”
XXIX
“Thi counsale is convenabill, kynd and courtese;Forthi ws likis thi lair listin and leir.”
Thai wyis, wourthy in weid, wend on thair ways,
And caryis to the castell, cumly and cleir;
Sent ane saynd to the souerane sone, and hym sais,
Thre knichtis fra court cum thay weir.
Than the ledis belife the lokkis vnlaissis;
On fute freschly thai frekis foundis but feir;
The renkis raithly can raik in to the round hald.
Thair met thame at the entre
Ladys likand to se,
Thretty knichtis and thre,
That blith war and bald.
XXX
Thai war courtes and couth thair knyghthed to kyth,Athir vthir wele gret in gretly degre;
Thai bowit to the bernys, that bright war and blith,
14
Syne thay sought to the chalmer, swiftly and swith,
The gait to the grete lord semely to se,
And salust the souerane sone, in ane sith,
Courtesly inclinand, and kneland on kne.
Ane blithar wes neuer borne of bane nor of blude;
All thre in certane
Salust the souerane,
And he inclynand agane,
Hatles, but hude.
XXXI
Than schir Gawyne the gay, gude and gracius,That euer wes beildit in blis, and bounte embrasit,
Joly and gentill, and full cheuailrus,
That neuer poynt of his prise wes fundin defasit,
Egir and ertand, and ryght anterus,
Illuminat vith lawte, and with lufe lasit,
Melis of the message to schir Golagrus.
Before the riale on raw the renk wes noght rasit;
With ane clene contenance, cumly to knaw,
Said: “our souerane Arthour
Gretis the with honour,
Has maid ws thre as mediatour,
His message to schaw.
XXXII
“He is the riallest roy, reuerend and rike,Of all the rentaris to ryme or rekin on raw.
Thare is na leid on life of lordschip hym like,
Na nane sa doughty of deid, induring his daw.
Mony burgh, mony bour, mony big bike,
Mony kynrik to his clame, cumly to knaw,
Maneris full menskfull, with mony deip dike;
Selcouth war the sevint part to say at saw.
15
Tuelf crovnit kingis in feir,
With all thair strang poweir,
And mony wight weryer,
Worthy in wedis.
XXXIII
“It has bene tauld hym with tong, trow ye full traist,Your dedis, your dignite and your doughtynes,
Brevit throu bounte for ane of the best
That now is namyt neir of all nobilnes,
Sa wyde quhare wourscip walkis be west.
Our seymly souerane hym self, forsuth, will noght cese,
Quhill he haue frely fangit your frendschip to fest;
Gif pament or praier mught mak that purchese,
For na largese my lord noght wil he neuer let,
Na for na riches to rigne.
I mak you na lesing,
It war his maist yarnyng
Your grant for to get.”
XXXIV
Than said the syre of the sail, with sad sembland:“I thank your gracious grete lord and his gude wil;
Had euer leid of this land, that had bene leuand,
Maid ony feute before, freik, to fulfil,
I suld sickirly myself be consentand,
And seik to your souerane, seymly on syll.
Sen hail our doughty elderis has bene endurand,
Thriuandly in this thede, vnchargit as thril,
If I, for obeisance or boist, to bondage me bynde,
I war wourthy to be
Hingit heigh on ane tre,
That ilk creature might se,
To waif with the wynd.
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XXXV
“Bot sauand my senyeoury fra subiection,And my lordscip vn-lamyt, withoutin legiance,
All that I can to yone king, cumly with croun,
I sall preif all my pane to do hym plesance;
Baith with body and beild, bowsum and boun,
Hym to mensk on mold, withoutin manance.
Bot nowthir for his senyeoury, nor for his summoun,
Na for dreid of na dede, na for na distance,
I will noght bow me ane bak for berne that is borne;
Quhill I may my wit wald,
I think my fredome to hald,
As my eldaris of ald
Has done me beforne.”
XXXVI
Thai lufly ledis at that lord thair leuis has laught;Bounit to the bauld king, and boidword him broght.
Than thai schupe for to assege segis vnsaught,
Ay the manlyest on mold, that maist of myght moght.
Thair wes restling and reling, but rest that raught,
Mony sege our the sey to the cite socht;
Schipmen our the streme thai stithil full straught,
With alkin wappyns, I wys, that wes for were wroght.
Thai bend bowis of bras braithly within;
Pellokis paisand to pase,
Gapand gunnys of brase,
Grundin ganyeis thair wase,
That maid ful gret dyn.
XXXVII
Thair wes blauing of bemys, braging and beir;Bretynit doune braid wod, maid bewis full bair;
Wrightis welterand doune treis, wit ye but weir,
Ordanit hurdys ful hie in holtis sa haire,
17
To gar the gayest on grund grayne vndir geir.
Thus thai schupe for ane salt, ilk sege seir;
Ilka souerane his ensenye shewin has thair;
Ferly fayr wes the feild, flekerit and faw
With gold and goulis in greyne,
Schynand scheirly and scheyne;
The sone, as cristall sa cleyne,
In scheildis thai schaw.
XXXVIII
Be it wes mydmorne and mare, merkit on the day,Schir Golagros mery men, menskful of myght,
In greis and garatouris, grathit full gay,
Seuyne score of scheildis thai schew at ane sicht;
Ane helme set to ilk scheild, siker of assay,
With fel lans on loft, lemand ful light.
Thus flourit thai the fore front, thair fays to fray,
The frekis, that war fundin ferse and forssy in fight.
Ilk knyght his cunysance kithit full cleir;
Thair names writtin all thare,
Quhat berne that it bare,
That ilk freke quhare he fare
Might wit quhat he weir.
XXXIX
“Yone is the warliest wane,” said the wise king,“That euer I vist in my walk, in all this warld wyde;
And the straitest of stuf, with richese to ring,
With vnabasit bernys bergane to abide;
May nane do thame na deir with vndoyng;
Yone house is sa huge hie, fra harme thame to hide.
Yit sal I mak thame vnrufe, foroutin resting,
And reve thame thair rentis, with routis full ride,
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And in his avne presence
Heir sall I mak residence,
Bot he with force mak defence,
With strenth me to steir.”
XL
“Quhat nedis,” said Spinagrus, “sic notis to nevin,Or ony termis be turnit, I tell you treuly?
For thair is segis in yone saill wil set vpone sevin,
Or thay be wrangit, I wis, I warne you ilk wy.
Nane hardiar of hertis vndir the hevin,
Or thay be dantit with dreid, erar will thai de;
And thai with men vpone mold be machit full evin,
Thai salbe fundin right ferse, and full of cheualrie.
Schir, ye ar in your maieste, your mayne and your myght,
Yit within thir dais thre,
The sicker suth sall ye se,
Quhat kin men that thai be,
And how thai dar fight.”
XLI
As the reuerend roy wes reknand vpone raw,With the rout of the Round Tabill, that wes richest,
The king crounit with gold, cumly to knaw,
With reuerend baronis and beirnis of the best,
He hard ane bugill blast brym and ane loud blaw,
As the seymly sone silit to the rest.
A gome gais to ane garet, glisnand to schaw,
Turnit to ane hie toure, that tight wes full trest;
Ane helme of hard steill in hand has he hynt,
Ane scheld wroght all of weir,
Semyt wele vpone feir;
He grippit to ane grete speir,
And furth his wais wynt.
19
XLII
“Quhat signifyis yone schene scheild?” said the senyeour,“The lufly helme and the lance, all ar away,
The brym blast that he blew with ane stevin stour?”
Than said sir Spynagrus with speche: “the suth sall I say.
Yone is ane freik in his force, and fresch in his flour,
To se that his schire weid be sicker of assay;
He thinkis provese to preve, for his paramour,
And prik in your presence, to purchese his pray.
Forthi makis furth ane man, to mach hym in feild,
That knawin is for cruel,
Doughty dyntis to dell,
That for the maistry dar mell
With schaft and with scheild.”
XLIII
Than wes the king wondir glaid, and callit Gaudifeir;Quhilum in Britane that berne had baronyis braid;
And he gudly furth gais, and graithit his geir,
And buskit hym to battell, without mair abaid.
That wy walit, I vis, all wedis of veir
That nedit hym to note gif he nane had. [OMITTED]
Bery broune wes the blonk, burely and braid,
Wpone the mold, quhare thai met, before the myd-day.
With lufly lancis and lang,
Ane faire feild can thai fang,
On stedis stalwart and strang,
Baith blanchart and bay.
XLIV
Gaudifeir and Galiot, in glemand steil wedis,As glauis glowand on gleid, grymly thai ride;
Wondir sternly thai steir on thair stent stedis
20
Thai ruschit vp rudly, quha sa right redis;
Out with suerdis thai swang fra thair schalk side;
Thair with wraithly thai wirk, thai wourthy in vedis,
Hewit on the hard steill, and hurt thame in the hide.
Sa wondir freschly thai frekis fruschit in feir,
Throw all the harnes thai hade,
Baith birny and breist-plade,
Thairin wappynis couth wade,
Wit ye but weir.
XLV
Thus thai faught vpone fold, with ane fel fair,Quhill athir berne in that breth bokit in blude;
Thus thai mellit on mold, ane myle way and maire,
Wraithly wroht, as thei war witlese and wode;
Baith thai segis forsuth, sadly and sair,
Thoght thai war astonait, in that stour stithly thai stude.
The feght sa felly thai fang, with ane fresch fair,
Quhil Gaudifeir and Galiot baith to grund yhude.
Gaudifeir gat vp agane, throu Goddis grete mightis;
Abone him wichtely he wan,
With the craft that he can;
Thai louit God and sanct An,
The king and his knightis.
XLVI
Than wes Galiot the gome hynt in till ane hald;Golagrus grew in greif, grymly in hart,
And callit schir Rigal of Rone, ane renk that wes bald:
“Quhill this querrell be quyt, I cover neuer in quert.
With wailit wapnis of were, evin on yone wald,
On ane sterand steid, that sternly will stert,
I pray the, for my saik, that it be deir sald;
Was neuer sa vnsound set to my hert.”
21
Blew ane blast of ane horne,
As wes the maner beforne;
Scheld and helm has he borne
Away with his spere.
XLVII
The king crovnit with gold this cumpas wele knew,And callit schir Rannald, cruell and kene:
“Gif ony pressis to this place, for proves to persew,
Schaip the evin to the schalk, in thi schroud schene.”
The deir dight him to the deid, be the day dew;
His birny and his basnet, burnist full bene;
Baith his horse and his geir wes of ane hale hew,
With gold and goulis sa gay graithit in grene;
Ane schene scheild and ane schaft, that scharply was sched;
Thre ber-hedis he bair,
As his eldaris did air,
Quhilk beirnis in Britane wair,
Of his blude bled.
XLVIII
Quhen the day can daw, deirly on hight,And the sone in the sky wes schynyng so schir,
Fra the castell thair come cariand ane knight,
Closit in clene steill, vpone ane coursyr.
Schir Rannald to his riche steid raikit full right,
Lightly lap he on loft, that lufly of lyre.
Athir laught has thair lance, that lemyt so light;
On twa stedis thai straid, with ane sterne schiere.
Togiddir freschly thai frekis fruschit, in fay;
Thair speris in splendris sprent,
On scheldis schonkit and schent,
Euin our thair hedis went,
In feild fir away.
22
XLIX
Thai lufly ledis belife lightit on the land,And laught out suerdis, lufly and lang;
Thair stedis stakkerit in the stour, and stude stummerand,
Al to-stiffillit and stonayt, the strakis war sa strang!
Athir berne braithly bet with ane bright brand;
On fute freschly thai frekis feghtin thai fang;
Thai hewit on hard steil, hartly with hand,
Quhil the spalis and the sparkis spedely out sprang.
Schir Rannald raught to the renk ane rout wes vnryde;
Clenely in the collair,
Fifty mailyeis and mair
Euin of the schuldir he schair,
Ane wound that wes wyde.
L
Thus thai faucht on fute, on the fair feild;The blude famyt thame fra, on feild quhare thai found;
All the bernys on the bent about that beheild,
For pure sorow of that sight thai sighit vnsound.
Schire teris schot fra schalkis, schene vndir scheild,
Quhen thai foundrit an fel fey to the grund;
Baith thair hartis can brist, braithly but beild,
Thair wes na staluart vnstonait, so sterne wes the stound!
Schir Rannaldis body wes broght to the bright tent;
Syne to the castel of stone
Thai had schir Regal of Rone;
With mekil murnyng and mone
Away with him went.
LI
Thus endit the auynantis with mekil honour;Yit has men thame in mynd for thair manhede;
Thair bodeis wes beryit baith in ane hour,
23
Than Gologrus graithit of his men in glisnand armour
Ane schir Louys the lele, ane lord of that leid;
Ane vthir heght Edmond, that prouit paramour;
The thrid heght schir Bantellas, the batal to leid;
The ferd wes ane weryour worthy and wight,
His name wes schir Sanguel,
Cumly and cruel;
Thir four, treuly to tell,
Foundis to the feght.
LII
Schir Lyonel to schir Louys wes leuit, with ane lance;Schir Ewin to shir Edmond, athir ful euin;
Schir Bedwar to schir Bantellas, to enschew his chance,
That baith war nemmyt in neid, nobil to neuin;
To schir Sangwel soght gude Gyromalance.
Thus thai mellit and met with ane stout steuin,
Thir lufly ledis on the land, without legiance;
With seymely scheildis to schew, thai set vpone seuin,
Thir cumly knightis to kyth ane cruel course maid.
The frekis felloune in feir
Wondir stoutly can steir,
With geir grundin ful cleir
Rudly thai raid.
LIII
Than thair hors vith thair hochis sic harmis couth hint,As trasit in vnquart quakand thai stand;
The frekis freschly thai fure, as fyre out of flynt,
Thair lufly lancis thai loissit, and lichtit on the land;
Right styth, stuffit in steill, thai stotit na stynt,
Bot buskit to battaille with birny and brand.
Thair riche birnys thai bet derfly with dynt,
Hewis doun in grete haist, hartly with hand.
24
Quhill clowis of clene maill
Hoppit out as the haill;
Thay beirnys in the bataill
Sa bauldly thai baid!
LIV
Thai bet on sa bryimly, thai beirnys on the bent,Bristis birneis with brandis burnist full bene;
Throu thair schene scheildis thair schuldiris var schent,
Fra schalkis schot schire blude our scheildis so schene;
Ryngis of rank steill rattillit and rent,
Gomys grisly on the grund granis on the grene.
The roy ramyt for reuth, richist of rent,
For cair of his knightis cruel and kene,
Sa wondir freschly thair force thai frest on the feildis!
Sa huge wes the melle,
Wes nane sa sutell couth se
Quhilk gome suld gouern the gre,
Bot God that al weildis.
LV
The wyis wroght vthir grete wandreth and weuch,Wirkand woundis full wyde with wapnis of were;
Helmys of hard steill thai hatterit and heuch,
In that hailsing thai hynt grete harmys and here;
All to-turnit thair entyre, traistly and tewch,
Burnist bladis of steill throw birneis thay bere;
Schort suerdis of scheith smertly thay dreuch,
Athir freik to his fallow, with fellonne affere;
Throw platis of polist steill thair poyntis can pase.
All thus thai threw in that thrang
Stalwart strakis and strang;
With daggaris derfly thay dang,
Thai doughtyis on dase.
25
LVI
Schir Lyonell schir Lowes laught has in hand,And sesit is Sangwell with Giromalans the gude;
Schir Evin has schir Edmond laid on the land,
Braithly bartynit with baill, bullerand in blude;
Schir Bedwar to schir Bantellas yaldis vp his brand,
In that stalwart stour thay styth men in stude.
Wes nane forssy on fold, that wes feghtand,
Wnmanglit and marrit, myghtles in mude;
Wes nane sa proud of his part, that prisit quhen he yeid.
Bedwer and Lyonell
War led to the castell;
The cumly knight Sangwell
To Arthour thay led.
LVII
Schir Edmond loissit has his life, and laid is full law;Schir Evin hurtis has hynt hidwise and sair;
Knightis caryis to the corse, wes cumly to knaw,
And had hym to the castell with mekill hard cair;
Thai did to that doughty as the dede aw.
Wthir four of the folk foundis to the fair,
That wes dight to the dede, be the day can daw;
Than said bernys bald, brym as bair:
“We sal evin that is od, or end in the pane!”
Thai stuffit helmys in hy,
Breist-plait and birny;
Thay renkis maid reddy
All geir that myght gane.
LVIII
Schir Agalus, schir Ewmond, honest and habill,Schir Mychin, schir Meligor, men of grete estait;
Than stertis out ane sterne knyght, stalwart and stabill,
Ane berne that heght schir Hew, hardy and hait.
26
That has traistly thame tight to governe that gait;
Furth faris the folk, but fenyeing or fabill,
That bemyt war be the lord, lufsum of lait:
Schir Cador of Cornwel, cumly and cleir,
Schir Owales, schir Iwell,
Schir Myreot, mighty emell;
Thir four, treuly to tell,
Foundis in feir.
LIX
Thair wes na trety of treux, trow ye full traist,Quhen thai myghty can mach, on mold quhair thai met;
Thai brochit blonkis to thair sydis out of blude braist,
Thair lufly lancis thai loissit, and lightit but let;
Sadillis thai temyt tyt, thir trew men and traist,
Braidit out brandis, on birnys thai bet;
As fyre that fleis fra the flynt, thay fechtin sa fast,
With vengeand wapnis of were throu wedis thai wet.
It war teirfull to tell treuly the tend
Of thair strife sa strang,
The feght so fellely thai fang;
Thoght it lestit neuer so lang,
Yit laught it ane end.
LX
Schir Oviles, schir Iwill, in handis war hynt,And to the lufly castell war led in ane lyng;
Thair with the stalwartis in stour can stotin and stynt,
And baith schir Agalus and schir Hew wes led to the kyng.
Than schir Golograse for greif his gray ene brynt,
Wod wraith as the wynd, his handis can wryng.
Yit makis he mery, magry quhasa mynt;
Said: “I sal bargane abyde, and ane end bryng;
To morne, sickirly, my self sall seik to the feild.”
27
Twa smal bellis rang thay;
Than seymly Arthur can say,
Wes schene vndir scheild.
LXI
“Quhat signifyis yone rynging?” said the ryale;Than said Spynagros with speche: “schir, sen speir,
That sall I tell yow with tong, treuly in taill.
The wy that weildis yone wane, I warn you but weir,
He thinkis his aune self shall do for his dail;
Is nane sa prouit in this part of pyth is his peir.
Yow worthis wisly to wirk, ane wy for to wail,
That sal duchtely his deid do with yone deir.
He is the forsiest freik, be fortoune his freynd,
That I wait leuand this day.”
Than schir Gawine the gay
Prayt for the iournay,
That he myght furth weynd.
LXII
The king grantit the gait to schir Gawane,And prayt to the grete God to grant him his grace,
Him to saue and to salf, that is our souerane,
As he is makar of man, and alkyn myght haise.
Than schir Spynagros, the freik, wox ferly vnfane,
Murnyt for schir Gawyne, and mekil mayne maise,
And said: “for his saik, that saiklese wes slane,
Tak nocht yone keyne knight to countir, in this hard cais.
Is nane sa stalwart in stour, with stoutnes to stand;
Of al that langis to the king,
The mair is my murnyng,
Ye suld this fell fechting
Hynt vpone hand.
28
LXIII
“Sen ye ar sa wourschipfull, and wourthy in were,Demyt with the derrest, maist doughty in deid,
Yone berne in the battale wil ye noght forbere,
For al the mobil on the mold, merkit to meid.”
“Gif I de doughtely, the les is my dere,
Thoght he war Sampsone himself, sa me Criste reid!
I forsaik noght to feght, for al his grete feir,
I do the weill for to wit, doutlese but dreid.”
Than said schir Spynagrose: “sen ye will of neid
Be bovn to the battale,
Wirkis with counsale,
It sall right gret avale,
And do it in deid.
LXIV
“Quhen ye mach hym on mold, merk to hym evin,And bere ye your bright lance in myddis his scheild;
Mak that course cruel, for Crystis lufe of hevin!
And syne wirk as I wise, your vappins to weild.
Be he stonayt, yone sterne, stout beis his stevin,
He wourdis brym as ane bair, that bydis na beild;
Noy you noght at his note, that nobill is to nevin.
Suppose his dyntis be deip dentit in your scheild,
Tak na haist vpone hand, quhat happunys may hynt;
Bot lat the riche man rage,
And fecht in his curage,
To swyng with suerd quhil he suage;
Syne dele ye your dynt.
LXV
“Quhen he is stuffit, thair strike, and hald hym on steir,Sa sal ye stonay yone stowt, suppose he be strang;
Thus may ye lippin on the lake, throu lair that I leir;
29
The king and his knihtis, cumly and cleir,
In armour dewly hym dight, be the day sprang;
Than wes schir Kay wondir wo, wit ye but weir,
In defalt of ane freik the feghting to fang.
That gome gudely furth gais, and graithit his geir;
Evin to the castell he raid,
Huvit in ane dern slaid;
Sa come ane knight as he baid,
Anairmit of weir.
LXVI
That knight buskit to schir Kay one ane steid broune,Braissit in birneis and basnet full bene;
He cryis his ensenye and conteris hym full soune,
And maid ane course curagiouse, cruell and kene;
Thair lufly lancis thai loissit, and lightit baith doune,
And girdit out suerdis on the grund grene,
And hewit on hard steill, hartlie but houne;
Rude reknyng raise thair renkis betuene.
Thair mailyeis with melle thay merkit in the medis;
The blude of thair bodeis
Throw breist-plait and birneis,
As roise ragit on rise,
Our ran thair riche vedis.
LXVII
Thus thai faught vpone fute, without fenyeing;The sparkis flaw in the feild, as fyre out of flynt;
Thai lufly ledis in lyke, thai layid on in ane ling,
Delis thair full doughtely mony derf dynt;
Duschand on deir wedis, dourly thai dyng,
Hidwise hurtis and huge haistely thai hynt.
That knight carpit to schir Kay, of discomforting:
“Of this stonay and stour I rede that ye stynt.
30
Quhair that fortoune will faill,
Thair may na besynes availl.”
He braidit vp his ventaill,
That closit wes clene.
LXVIII
For to ressaue the brand the berne wes full blith,For he wes byrsit and beft, and braithly bledand;
Thoght he wes myghtles, his mercy can he thair myth,
And wald that he nane harm hynt with hart and with hand.
Thai caryit baith to the kynge, cumly to kyth;
Thair lancis war loissit, and left on the land.
Than said he loud vpone loft: “lord, will ye lyth,
Ye sall nane torfeir betyde, I tak vpone hand.
Na mysliking haue in hart, nor haue ye na dout;
Oft in romanis I reid:
Airly sporne, late speid.”
The king to the pailyeoune gart leid
The knight that wes stout.
LXIX
Thai hynt of his harnese, to helyn his wound;Lechis war noght to lait, with sawis sa sle.
With that mony fresch freik can to the feild found,
With Gologras in his geir, grete of degre;
Armyt in rede gold, and rubeis sa round,
With mony riche relikis, riale to se.
Thair wes on Gologras, quhair he glaid on the ground,
Frenyeis of fine silk, fratit full fre.
Apone sterand stedis, trappit to the heill,
Sexty schalkis full schene,
Cled in armour sa clene,
No wy wantit, I wene,
All stuffit in steill.
31
LXX
That berne raid on ane blonk, of ane ble quhite,Blyndit all with bright gold and beriallis bright;
To tell of his deir weid war doutles delite,
And alse ter for to tell the travalis war tight.
His name and his nobillay wes noght for to nyte;
Thair wes na hathill sa heich, be half ane fute hicht.
He lansit out our ane land, and drew noght ane lyte,
Quhair he suld frastyn his force, and fangin his fight.
Be that schir Gawyne the gay wes graithit in his gere;
Cummyng on the ta syde,
Hovand battale to abyde,
All reddy samyne to ryde,
With schelde and with spere.
LXXI
Thir lufly ledis on the land left be thame allane,Tuke nowthir fremmyt nor freyndis, bot found thame fra;
Twa rynnyng renkis raith the riolyse has tane,
Ilk freik to his feir, to frestin his fa.
Thai gird one tva grete horse, on grund quhil thai grane;
The trew helmys and traist in tathis thai ta;
The rochis reirdit vith the rasch, quhen thai samyne rane;
Thair speris in the feild in flendris gart ga.
The stedis stakerit in the stour, for streking on stray;
The bernys bowit abak,
Sa woundir rude wes the rak;
Quhilk that happynnit the lak,
Couth na leid say!
LXXII
Thai brayd fra thair blonkis, besely and bane,Syne laught out suerdis, lang and lufly;
And hewit on hard steill, wondir hawtane,
32
Gologras grew in greif at schir Gawane;
On the hight of the hard steill he hyt hym in hy;
Pertly put with his pith at his pesane,
And fulyeit of the fyne maill ma than fyfty.
The knight stakrit with the straik, all stonayt in stound;
Sa woundir scharply he schair,
The berne that the brand bair;
Schir Gawyne, with ane fell fair,
Can to his faa found.
LXXIII
With ane bitand brand, burly and braid,Quhilk oft in battale had bene his bute and his belde,
He leit gird to the grome, with greif that he had,
And claif throw the cantell of the clene schelde.
Throw birny and breist-plait and bordour it baid;
The fulye of the fyne gold fell in the feild.
The rede blude with the rout folowit the blaid,
For all the wedis, I wise, that the wy weild,
Throw claspis of clene gold, and clowis sa cleir.
Thair with schir Gologras the syre,
In mekill angir and ire,
Alse ferse as the fyre,
Leit fle to his feir.
LXXIV
Sic dintis he delt to that doughty,Leit hym destanyt to danger and dreid;
Thus wes he handillit full hait, that hawtane, in hy,
The scheld in countir he kest our his cleir weid;
Hewit on hard steill woundir haistely;
Gart beryallis hop of the hathill about hym on breid.
Than the king vnto Criste kest vp ane cry,
Said: “Lord, as thow life lent to levand in leid,
33
Grant me confort this day,
As thow art God verray!”
Thus prais the king in affray,
For Gawyne the gude.
LXXV
Golagras at Gawyne in sic ane grief grew,As lyoune, for falt of fude, faught on the fold;
With baith his handis in haist that haltane couth hew;
Gart stanys hop of the hathill, that haltane war hold,
Birny and breist-plait, bright for to schew;
Mony mailye and plait war marrit on the mold.
Knichtis ramyt for reuth, schir Gawyne thai rew,
That doughty delit with hym sa, for dout he war defold;
Sa wondir scharply he schare throu his schene schroud;
His scheild he chopit hym fra
In tuenty pecis and ma;
Schir Wawane writhit for wa,
Witlese and woud.
LXXVI
Thus wourthit schir Gawyne wraith and wepand,And straik to that stern knight but stynt;
All engreuit the grome, with ane bright brand,
And delt thairwith doughtely mony derf dynt;
Throw byrny and breistplait, bordour and band,
He leit fle to the freke, as fyre out of flynt.
He hewit on with grete haist, hartly with hand,
Hakkit throw the hard weid, to the hede hynt;
Throw the stuf with the straik, stapalis and stanis,
Schir Wawine, wourthy in wail,
Half ane span at ane spail,
Quhare his harnes wes hail,
He hewit attanis.
34
LXXVII
Thus raithly the riche berne rassit his array;The tothir stertis ane bak, the sterne that wes stout,
Hit schir Gawayne on the gere, quhil greuit wes the gay,
Betit doune the bright gold and beryallis about;
Scheddit his schire wedis scharply away,
That lufly lappit war on loft, he gart thame law lout.
The sterne stakrit with the straik, and stertis on stray,
Quhill neir his resoune wes tynt, sa rude wes the rout!
The beryallis on the land of bratheris gart light,
Rubeis and sapheir,
Precious stanis that weir;
Thus drese thai wedis sa deir,
That dantely wes dight.
LXXVIII
Thai gyrd on sa grymly, in ane grete ire,Baith schir Gavine the grome, and Gologras the knight,
The sparkis flew in the feild, as fagottis of fire,
Sa wndir frely thai frekis fangis the fight;
Thai luschit and laid on, thai luflyis of lyre.
King Arthur Ihesu besoght, seymly with sight:
“As thow art souerane God, sickerly, and syre,
At thow wald warys fra wo Wauane the wight,
And grant the frekis on fold farar to fall,
Baith thair honouris to saif.”
At Crist with credence thai craif,
Knight, squyar and knaif;
And thus pray thay all.
LXXIX
Thai mellit on with malice, thay myghtyis in mude,Mankit throu mailyeis, and maid thame to mer;
Wraithly wroght, as thai war witlese and wod.
Be that schir Wawane the wy likit the wer;
35
Thair with the nobill in neid nyghit hym ner,
Straik hym with ane steill brand, in stede quhare he stude;
The scheld in fardellis can fle, in feild away fer;
The tothir hyt hym agane with ane hard swerd.
As he loutit our ane bra,
His feit founderit hym fra;
Schir Gologras graithly can ga
Grulingis to erd.
LXXX
Or euer he gat vp agane, gude schir GawaneGrippit to schir Gologras on the grund grene.
Thair of gromys wes glaid, gudly and gane,
Lovit Criste of that case with hartis sa clene.
Ane daggar dayntely dight that doughty has drawne,
Than he carpit to the knight, cruel and kene:
“Gif thou luffis thi life, lelely noght to layne,
Yeld me thi bright brand, burnist sa bene;
I rede thow wirk as I wise, or war the betide.”
The tothir ansuerit schortly:
“Me think farar to dee,
Than schamyt be, verralie,
Ane sclander to byde.
LXXXI
“Wes I neuer yit defoullit, nor fylit in fame,Nor nane of my eldaris, that euer I hard nevin;
Bot ilk berne has bene vnbundin with blame,
Ringand in rialte, and reullit thame self evin.
Sall neuer sege vndir son se me with schame,
Na luke on my lekame with light nor with levin,
Na nane of the nynt degre haue noy of my name,
I swere be suthfast God, that settis all on sevin!
36
I trete for na favour;
Do furth thi devoir;
Of me gettis thou na more,
Doutles this day.”
LXXXII
Lordingis and ladyis in the castell on loft,Quhen thai saw thair liege lord laid on the landis,
Mony sweit thing of sware swownit full oft,
Wyis wourthit for wo to wringin thair handis.
Wes nowthir solace nor sang thair sorow to soft,
Ane sair stonay and stour at thair hartis standis.
On Criste cumly thay cry: “on croce as thou coft,
With thi blissit blude to bring ws out of bandis,
Lat neuer our souerane his cause with schame to encheif!
Mary, farest of face,
Beseik thi sone in this cace,
Ane drop of his grete grace
He grant ws to geif!”
LXXXIII
Thus the ledis on loft in langour war lent;The lordis on the tothir side for liking thay leugh.
Schir Gawyne tretit the knight to turn his entent,
For he wes wondir wa to wirk hym mare wugh.
“Schir, say for thi self, thow seis thou art schent;
It may nocht mend the ane myte to mak it so teugh.
Rise, and raik to our roy, richest of rent;
Thow salbe newit at neid with nobillay eneuch,
And dukit in our duchery, all the duelling.”
“Than war I woundir vnwis,
To purchese proffit for pris,
Quhare schame ay euer lyis,
All my leuing.
37
LXXXIV
“The sege that schrenkis for na schame, the schent might hym schend,That mare luffis his life than lois vpone erd;
Sal neuer freik on fold, fremmyt nor freynde,
Gar me lurk for ane luke, lawit nor lerd;
For quhasa with wourschip sall of this warld wende,
Thair wil nane wyis, that ar wis, wary the werd.
For ony trety may tyde, I tell the the teynd,
I wil noght turn myn entent, for all this warld brerd,
Or I pair of pris ane penny-worth in this place,
For besandis or beryell;
I knaw my avne quarrell,
I dreid not the pereill
To dee in this cace!”
LXXXV
Schir Gawyne rewit the renk, that wes riale,And said to the reuerend, riche and rightuis:
“How may I succour the sound, semely in sale,
Before this pepill in plane, and pair noght thy pris?”
“That sall I tel the with tong, trewly in tale,
Wald thow denye the in deid to do my deuis;
Lat it worth at my wil the wourschip to wale,
As I had wonnyn the of were, wourthy and wis;
Syne cary to the castel, quhare I haue maist cure.
Thus may thow saif me fra syte;
As I am cristynit perfite,
I sall thi kyndnes quyte,
And sauf thyn honoure.”
LXXXVI
“That war hard,” said that heynd, “sa haue I gude hele!Ane wounder peralous poynt, partenyng grete plight,
To soner in thi gentrice, but signete or sele,
38
To leif in thi laute, and thow war vnlele,
Than had I cassin in cair mony kene knight.
Bot I knaw thou art kene, and alse cruell;
Or thow be fulyeit fey, freke, in the fight,
I do me in thi gentrice, be Drightin sa deir!”
He lenyt vp in the place;
The tothir raithly vpraise;
Gat neuer grome sic ane grace,
In feild of his feir!
LXXXVII
Than thei nobillis at neid yeid to thair note new;Freschly foundis to feght, all fenyeand thair fair;
Tua schort suerdis of scheith smertly thai drew,
Than thai mellit on mold, ane myle way and mare.
Wes newthir casar nor king thair quentance that knew,
It semyt be thair contenance that kendillit wes care.
Syne thai traist in that feild, throu trety of trew;
Put up thair brandis sa braid, burly and bair.
Gologras and Gawyne, gracious and gude,
Yeid to the castel of stane,
As he war yoldin and tane;
The king precious in pane
Sair murnand in mude.
LXXXVIII
The roy ramand ful raith, that reuth wes to se,And raikit full redles to his riche tent;
The watter wet his chekis, that schalkis myght se,
As all his welthis in warld had bene away went,
And othir bernys for barrat blakynnit thair ble,
Braithly bundin in baill, thair breistis war blent.
“The flour of knighthede is caught throu his cruelte!
Now is the Round Tabill rebutit, richest of rent,
39
Is led to ane presoune;
Now failyeis gude fortoune!”
The king, cumly with croune,
Grat mony salt tere.
LXXXIX
Quhen that Gawyne the gay, grete of degre,Wes cummyn to the castel, cumly and cleir,
Gromys of that garisoune maid gamyn and gle,
And ledis lofit thair lord, lufly of lyere;
Beirdis beildit in blise, brightest of ble;
The tothir knightis maid care of Arthuris here;
Al thus with murnyng and myrth thai maid melle.
Ay, quhil the segis war set to the suppere,
The seymly souerane of the sail marschel he wes;
He gart schir Gawyne vpga,
His wife, his doghter alsua,
And of that mighty na ma
War set at the des.
XC
He gart at ane sete burd the strangearis begin,The maist seymly in sale ordanit thame sete;
Ilk knyght ane cumly lady, that cleir wes of kyn;
With kynde contenance the renk couth thame rehete,
Quhen thai war machit at mete, the mare and the myn,
And ay the meryest on mold marschalit at mete.
Than said he lowd vpone loft, the lord of that in,
To al the beirnys about, of gre that wes grete:
“Lufly ledis in land, lythis me til!”
He straik the burd with ane wand,
The quilk he held in hand;
Thair wes na word muuand,
Sa war thai all stil.
40
XCI
“Heir ye ar gaderit in grosse, al the gretestOf gomys that grip has, vndir my gouernyng,
Of baronis and burowis, of braid land the best,
And alse the meryest on mold has intrometting.
Cumly knightis, in this cace I mak you request,
Freyndfully, but falsset, or ony fenyeing,
That ye wald to me, treuly and traist,
Tell your entent, as tuiching this thing
That now hingis on my hart, sa haue I gude hele!
It tuichis myne honour sa neir,
Ye mak me plane ansueir;
Thairof I you requeir,
I may noght concele.
XCII
“Say me ane chois, the tane of thir twa,Quhethir ye like me lord, laught in the feild,
Or ellis my life at the lest lelely forga,
And boune yow to sum berne, that myght be your beild?”
The wourthy wyis at that word wox woundir wa,
Than thai wist thair souerane wes schent vnder scheild.
“We wil na fauour here fenye to frende nor to fa;
We like yow ay as our lord to were and to weild;
Your lordschip we may noght forga, alse lang as we leif;
Ye sal be our gouernour,
Quhil your dais may endure,
In eise and honour,
For chance that may cheif.”
XCIII
Quhen this auenand and honest had maid this ansuer,And had tald thair entent trewly him till,
Than schir Gologras the gay, in gudly maneir,
41
How wourschipful Wavane had wonnin him on weir,
To wirk him wandreth or wough, quhilk war his wil;
How fair him fell in feght, syne how he couth forbere.
“In sight of his souerane, this did the gentill:
He has me sauit fra syte throw his gentrice;
It war syn, but recure,
The knightis honour suld smure,
That did me this honoure,
Quhilk maist is of price.
XCIV
“I aught as prynce him to prise for his prouese,That wanyt noght my wourschip, as he that al wan,
And at his bidding full bane, blith to obeise
This berne full of bewte, that all my baill blan,
I mak that knawin and kend, his grete kyndnes,
The countirpas to kyth to him, gif I can.”
He raikit to schir Gawine, right in ane race,
Said: “schir, I knaw be conquest thow art ane kynd man;
Quhen my lyfe and my dede wes baith at thi will,
Thy frendschip frely I fand;
Now wil I be obeyand,
And make the manrent with hand,
As right is, and skill.
XCV
“Sen fortoune cachis the cours, throu hir quentys,I did it noght for nane dreid that I had to de,
Na for na fauting of hart, na for na fantise;
Quhare Criste cachis the cours, it rynnis quently;
May nowthir power nor pith put him to prise.
Quhan on-fortone quhelmys the quheil, thair gais grace by;
Quha may his danger endure or destanye dispise,
That led men in langour ay lestand inly,
42
Ilk man may kyth be his cure,
Baith knyght, king and empriour,
And muse in his myrrour,
And mater maist mine is.
XCVI
“Hectour and Alexander, and Julius Cesar,Dauid and Josue, and Judas the gent,
Sampsone and Salamon, that wise and wourthy war,
And that ryngis on erd, richest of rent;
Quhen thai met at the merk, than might thai na mair,
To speid thame our the spere-feild enspringing thai sprent;
Quhen fortune worthis vnfrende, than failieis welefair,
Thair ma na tresour ourtak nor twyn hir entent.
All erdly riches and ruse is noght in thair garde;
Quhat menis fortoune be skill,
Ane gude chance or ane ill,
Ilkane be werk and be will
Is worth his rewarde.
XCVII
“Schir Hallolkis, schir Hewis, heynd and hardy,Schir Lyonel lufly, and alse schir Bedwere,
Schir Wawane the wise knight, wicht and wourthy,
Carys furth to the king, cumly and clere;
Alse my self sall pase with yow reddy,
My kyth and my castel compt his conquere.”
Thai war arait ful raith, that ryale cumpany,
Of lordis and ladis, lufsum to lere;
With grete lightis on loft, that gaif grete leime;
Sexty torcheis ful bright,
Before schir Gologras the knight;
That wes ane semely syght,
In ony riche reime.
43
XCVIII
All effrayt of that fair wes the fresch king;Wend the wyis had bene wroght all for the weir;
Lordis laught thair lancis, and went in ane lyng,
And graithit thame to the gait, in thair greif geir.
Spynok spekis with speche, said: “moue you na thing;
It semys saughtnyng thai seik, I se be thair feir;
Yone riche cummis arait in riche robbing,
I trow this deuore be done, I dout for na deir.
I wait schir Gawane the gay has graithit this gait;
Betuix schir Gologras and he
Gude contenance I se,
And vthir knightis so fre,
Lufsum of lait.”
XCIX
The renk raikit to the roy, with his riche rout,Sexty schalkis that schene, seymly to schaw;
Of banrenttis and baronis bauld hym about,
In clathis of cleyne gold, cumly to knaw.
To that lordly on loft that lufly can lout,
Before the riale renkis, richest on raw;
Salust the bauld berne, with ane blith wout,
Ane furlenth before his folk, on feildis so faw.
The king crochit with croune, cumly and cleir,
Tuke him vp by the hand,
With ane fair sembland;
Grete honour that auenand
Did to the deir.
C
Than that seymly be sight said to the gent,Wes vailyeand and verteous, foroutin ony vice:
“Heir am I cumyn at this tyme to your present,
44
Of al that ryngis in erd richest of rent,
Of pyth and of proues, peirles of prise.
Heir I mak yow ane grant, with gudly entent,
Ay to your presence to persew, with al my seruice;
Quhare euer ye found or fair, be firth or be fell,
I sal be reddy at your will,
In alkin resoune and skill,
As I am haldin thairtill,
Treuly to tell.”
CI
He did the conquerour to knaw all the cause quhy,That all his hathillis in that heir, hailly on hight;
How he wes wonnyn of wer with Wawane the wy,
And al the fortoune the freke befell in the fight;
The dout and the danger he tauld him quently.
Than said Arthur him seluin, semely by sight:
“This is ane soueranefull thing, be Ihesu! think I,
To leif in sic perell, and in sa grete plight;
Had ony preiudice apperit in the partyce,
It had bene grete perell;
Bot sen the lawte is lell,
That thow my kyndnes wil heill,
The mare is thi price.
CII
“I thank the mekill, schir knight,” said the ryall,“It makis me blythar to be than all thi braid landis,
Or all the renttis fra thyne vnto Ronsiwall,
Thoght I myght reif thame with right, rath to my handis.”
Than said the senyeour in syth, semely in saill:
“Because of yone bald berne, that broght me of bandis,
All that I haue wndir hewyne, I hald of you haill,
In firth, forest and fell, quhare euer that it standis.
45
The senyory in gouernyng,
Cumly conquerour and kyng,
Heir mak [I] yow obeising,
As liege lord of landis.
CIII
“And syne fewte I yow fest, without fenyeing,Sa that the cause may be kend, and knawin throw skill;
Blithly bow and obeise to your bidding,
As I am haldin, to tell treuly, thair till.”
Of schir Gologras grant blith wes the king,
And thoght the fordward wes fair, freyndschip to fulfil.
Thair schir Gawane the gay, throu requiring,
Gart the souerane him self, semely on syll,
Cary to the castel, cleirly to behald,
With all the wourthy that were,
Erll, duke and douch-spere,
Baith banrent and bachilere,
That blyth war and bald.
CIV
Quhen the semely souerane wes set in the saill,It wes selcouth to se the seir seruice;
Wynis wisly in wane went full grete waill
Amang the pryncis in place, peirles to price.
It war teir for to tel, treuly in tail,
To ony wy in this warld, wourthy, I wise.
With reualing and reuay all the oulk hale,
Also rachis can ryn vndir the wod rise,
On the riche riuer of Rone ryot thai maid;
And syne, on the nynte day,
The renkis rial of array
Bownyt hame thair way,
With outin mare baid.
46
CV
Quhen the ryal roy, maist of renoune,With al his reuerend rout wes reddy to ryde,
The king, cumly with kith, wes crochit with croune,
To schir Gologras the gay said gudly that tyde:
“Heir mak I the reward, as I haue resoune,
Before thir senyeouris in sight, semely beside,
As tuiching the temporalite, in toure and in toune,
In firth, forest and fell, and woddis so wide;
I mak releisching of thin allegiance;
But dreid I sall the warand,
Baith be sey and be land,
Fre as I the first fand,
With outin distance.”
Explicit.
Heir endis the Knightly Tale of Golagros and
Gawane, in the south gait of Edinburgh, be
Walter Chepman and Androw Millar, the viii.
day of Aprile, the yhere of God, M.CCCCC.
and viii. yheris.
Heir endis the Knightly Tale of Golagros and
Gawane, in the south gait of Edinburgh, be
Walter Chepman and Androw Millar, the viii.
day of Aprile, the yhere of God, M.CCCCC.
and viii. yheris.
116
THE AWNTYRS OFF ARTHURE AT THE TERNE WATHELYNE.
I
In the tyme of Arthur ane aunter by-tydde,By þe turnewathelane, as þe boke telles,
Whane he to Carlele was comen, and conquerour kydde,
Withe Dukes and dussiperes, þat with þe dere dwelles,
To hunte at þe herdes, þat longe had bene hydde.
One a day þei hem dighte to þe depe delles,
To falle of þe femailes, in forest and frydde,
Fayre by þe firmyschamis, in frithes and felles.
Thus to wode arne þei went, þe wlonkest in wedes,
Bothe þe kyng and þe quene,
And al þe dougheti by-dene;
Sir Gawayne, gayest one grene,
Dame Gaynour he ledes.
II
Thus sir Gawayne þe gay Gaynour he ledes,In a gleterand gide, þat glemed fulle gay,
118
Rayled withe rybees of rialle aray;
Her hode of a herde huwe, þat here hede hedes,
Of pillour, of palwerke, of perre to pay;
Schurde in a short cloke, þat þe rayne shedes,
Set ouer withe saffres, soþely to say,
Withe saffres and seladynes set by þe sides;
Here sadel sette of þat ilke,
Saude withe sambutes of silke;
One a mule as þe mylke
Gaili she glides.
III
Al in gleterand golde gayly ho glidesÞe gates, withe sir Gawayne, bi þe grene welle;
And þat burne one his blonke withe þe quene bides,
Þat borne was in borgoyne, by boke and by belle.
He ladde þat lady so longe by þe lawe sides,
Vnder a lorre þey lighte, loȝe by a felle.
And Arthur, withe his erles, ernestly rides,
To teche hem to her tristres, þe trouthe for to telle.
To here tristres he hem tauȝte, ho þe trouthe trowes,
Eche lorde, withe outene lette,
To ane oke he hem sette,
Withe bowe and withe barselette,
Vnder þe bowes.
IV
Vnder þe bowes þei bode, þes burnes so bolde,To byker at þes baraynes, in bonkes so bare.
There mighte haþeles in hiȝ herdes be-holde,
Herken huntynge in hast, in holtes so hare;
Þei kest of here couples, in cliffes so colde,
Conforte here kenettes, to kele hem of care.
120
Withe fresshe houndes, and fele, þei folowene here fare. [OMITTED]
Withe gret questes and quelles,
Bothe in frethes and felles,
Alle the durere [?] in þe delles,
Þei durkene and dare.
V
Þen durkene þe dere in þe dymme skuwes,Þat for drede of þe dethe droupes þe do,
[OMITTED]
Þai werray þe wilde swyne and worchene hem wo.
The huntes þei halowe, in hurstes and huwes,
And bluwe rechas ryally, þei rane to þe ro;
They gaf to no gamone þat one grounde gruwes;
Þe grete grendes in þe greues so gladly þei go,
So gladly þei gone in greues so grene;
The king blowe rechas,
And folowed fast one þe tras,
Withe many Sergeant of mas,
Þat solas to sene.
VI
Withe solas þei semble, þe pruddest in palle,And suwene to þe souerayne, within schaghes schene;
Al but sir Gawayne, gayest of alle,
Beleues withe Dame Gaynour in greues so grene.
Vnder a lorer ho was liȝte, þat lady so smalle,
Of box and of berber bigged ful bene;
122
And þis mekel mervaile þat I shal of mene;
Now wol I of þis mervaile mene, if I mote;
The day wex als dirke
As hit were mydniȝte myrke,
There of þe king was irke,
And liȝte one his fote.
VII
Thus to fote ar þei farene, þes frekes vnfayne,And fleene fro þe Forest to þe fewe felles; [OMITTED]
For þe sneterand snawe snartly hem snelles.
There come a lede of þe lawe, in londe is not to layne, [OMITTED]
And glides to sir Gawayne, þe gates to gayne,
Ȝauland and ȝomerand, with many loude ȝelles.
Hit ȝaules, hit ȝameres, with waymynges wete,
And seid withe siking sare:
“I bane þe body me bare;
Alas! now kindeles my care,
I gloppen and I grete!”
VIII
Then gloppenet and grete Gaynour þe gay,And seid to sir Gawene: “what is þi good rede?”
“Hit ar þe clippes of þe sone, I herd a clerk say;”
And þus he confortes þe quene for his kniȝthede.
“Sir Cadour, sir Clegis, sir Costardyne, sir Cay,
Þes knyȝtes arne vncurtays, by crosse and by crede,
Þat þus oonly haue me laft one my deþe day,
124
“Of þe goost,” quod þe grome, “greue you no mare,
For I shal speke withe þe sprete,
And of þe wayes I shalle wete,
What may þe bales bete
Of þe bodi bare.”
IX
Bare was þe body, and blake to þe bone,Al bi-clagged in clay, vncomly cladde;
Hit waried, hit wayment as a womane,
But on hide, ne on huwe, no heling hit hadde.
Hit stemered, hit stonayde, hit stode as a stone,
Hit marred, hit memered, hit mused for madde.
Agayne þe grisly goost sir Gawayne is gone;
He rayked oute at a res, for was neuer drad;
Drad was he neuer, ho so righte redes.
On þe chef of þe clolle,
A pade pikes one þe polle,
Withe eighen holked ful holle,
That gloed as þe gledes.
X
Al glowed as a glede þe goste þere ho glides,Vmbeclipped him with a cloude, of cleyng vnclere,
Skeled withe serpentes alle aboute þe sides;
To telle þe todes þereone my tonge were fulle tere.
Þe burne braides oute þe bronde, and þe body bides;
Therefor þe cheualrous kniȝte changed no chere;
Þe houndes hiȝene to þe wode, and here hede hides,
For þe grisly goost made a gryme bere.
126
Þe birdes in þe bowes,
Þat one þe goost glowes,
Þei skryke in þe skowes,
Þat haþeles may here.
XI
Haþelese miȝt here, so fer into halle,How chatered þe cholle, þe chalus one þe chynne.
Þene coniured þe kniȝte, one crist cone he calle:
“As þou was crucifiged one croys, to clanse vs of syne,
That þou sei me þe sothe, wheþer þou shalle,
And whi þou walkest þes wayes, þe wodes with-in?”
“I was of figure and face fairest of alle,
Cristened and knowene with kinges in my kynne.
I haue kinges in my kyne, knowene for kene;
God has me gevene of his grace
To dre my paynes in þis place,
I ame comene in þis cace
To speke with your quene.
XII
Quene was I some wile, brighter of browesThene berelle or Brangwayne, þes burdes so bolde;
Of al gamene or gle, þat one grounde growes,
Gretter þene dame Gaynour, of Garsone and golde,
Of palaies, of parkes, of pondes, of plowes,
Of townes, of toures, of tresour vntolde,
Of Castelles, of contreyes, of cragges, of clowes;
Now ame I cauȝte oute of kide to cares so colde,
Into care am I caughte, and couched in clay.
128
How delfulle dethe has me diȝte!
Lete me onys haue a sighte
Of Gaynour þe gay.”
XIII
After Gaynour þe gay sir Gawyne is gone,And to þe body he here brouȝte, and to þe burde brighte.
“Welcome, Waynour, I wis, worthi in wone,
Lo! how delful dethe has þi dame diȝte!
I was radder of rode þene rose in þe rone,
My lere as þe lele, louched one highte;
Now am I a graceles gost, and grisly I grone;
Withe lucyfer in a lake loȝ am I lighte.
Take truly tent tiȝte nowe by me:
For al þi fresshe foroure
Muse one my mirrour,
For, king and Emperour,
Thus shul ye be.
XIV
Þus dethe wil ȝou diȝte, thare you not doute;Þere one hertly take hede, while þou art here,
Whane þou art richest araied, and ridest in þi route;
Haue pite one þe poer, þou art of powere.
Burnes and burdes, þat bene þe aboute,
Whene þi body is bamed, and brouȝte one a bere,
Þene lite wyne þe lighte, þat now wil þe loute;
For þene þe helpes no þing, but holy praiere.
Þe praier of poer may purchas þe pes,
130
Whan þou art set in þi sete,
Withe al merthes at mete,
And dayntes on des.
XV
Withe riche dayntes on des þi diotes art diȝte,And I in danger and doel in dongone I dwelle,
Naxte and nedefulle, naked one nighte;
Þer folo me a ferde of fendes of helle;
Þey hurle me vnhendely, þei harme me in hiȝte;
In bras and in brymstone, I brene as a belle;
Was neuer wroughte in þis world a wofuller wighte;
Hit were ful tore any tonge my turment to telle!
Nowe wil y of my turment tel, or I go.
Thenk hertly one þis,
Fonde to mende thi mys;
Thou art warned y-wys,
Beware be my wo.”
XVI
“Wo is me for þi wo!” quod Waynour, “y-wys,But one þing wold I wite, if þi wil ware;
If auþer matens or mas miȝte mende þi mys,
Or eny meble one molde, my merthe were þe mare;
If bedis of bisshopps miȝte bring þe to blisse,
Or couentes in cloistre miȝte kere þe of care;
If þou be my moder, grete wonder hit is
That al þi burly body is brouȝte to be so bare!”
“I bare þe of my body; what bote is hit I layne?
I brake a solempne a-vowe,
132
By þat tokene þou trowe
Þat soþely I sayne.”
XVII
“Say soþely what may þe sauene y-wys,And I shal make sere mene to singe for þi sake;
But þe baleful bestes, þat one þi body is,
Al bledis my ble, þi bones arne so blake.”
“Þat is luf paramour, listes and delites,
Þat has me liȝte and laft loȝ in a lake;
Al þe welthe of þe world, þat awey witis,
Withe þe wilde wormes, þat worche me wrake;
Wrake þei me worchene, Waynour, I wys;
Were thritty trentales done,
By-twene vnder and none,
Mi soule socoured withe sone,
And broughte to þe blys.”
XVIII
“To blisse bring þe þe barne, þat boughte þe one rode,Þat was crucifiged one croys, and crowned with þorne;
As þou was cristened and crisomed with candel and code,
Folowed in fontestone, one frely byforne;
Mary þe miȝeti, myldest of mode,
Of whome þe blisful barme in bedlem was borne,
Lene me grace þat I may grete þe with gode,
And mynge þe withe matens and masses one morne.”
“To mende vs with masses, grete myster hit were;
134
Gyf fast of þi goode
To folke þat failene þe fode,
While þou art here.”
XIX
“Here hertly my honde, þes hestes to holde,Withe a myllione of masses to make þe mynnyng.
A!” quod Waynour, “I wis, yit wetene I wolde
What wrathede god moste, at þi weting?”
“Pride, with þe appurtenaunce, as propheteȝ hane tolde,
Bifore þe peple, apt in here preching.
Hit beres bowes bitter, þerof be þou bolde,
Þat makes burnes so bly to breke his bidding.
But ho his bidding brekes, bare þei bene of blys;
But þei be salued of þat sare,
Er þey heþene fare,
They mone wetene of care,
Waynour, y-wys.”
XX
“Wysse me,” quod Waynour, “some wey, if þou wost,What bedis miȝte me best to þe blisse bringe.”
“Mekenesse and mercy, þes arne þe moost;
And siþene haue pite one þe poer, þat pleses heuen king;
Siþene charite is chef, and þene is chaste,
And þene almesse dede cure al þing;
Þes arne þe graceful giftes of þe holy goste,
Þat enspires iche sprete, withe oute speling.
Of þis spiritual þing spute þou no mare;
136
Hold þes wordes in hert;
Þou shal leve but a stert;
Heþene shal þou fare.”
XXI
“How shal we fare,” quod þe freke, “þat fondene to fighteAnd þus defoulene þe folke, one fele kinges londes,
And riches ouer reymes with outene eny righte,
Wynnene worshippe in werre þorghe wightnesse of hondes?”
“Your king is to couetous, I warne þe, sir kniȝte;
May no mane stry him withe strength, while his whele stondes;
Whane he is in his mageste, moost in his miȝte,
He shal lighte ful lowe one þe se sondes,
And this chiualrous kniȝte chef shalle þorgh chaunce,
Falsely fordone in fighte,
With a wonderfulle wighte,
Shalle make lordes to liȝte;
Take witnesse by Fraunce.
XXII
Fraunce haf ye frely with your fight wonnene;Freol and his folke fey ar þey leued;
Bretayne in burgoyne al to you bowene,
And al þe Dussiperes of Fraunce with your dyn deued.
Gyane may grete þe werre was bigonene;
There ar no lordes one lyue in þat londe leued.
Yet shal þe riche remayns with one be aure-ronene,
And with þe rounde table þe rentes be reued.
Thus shal a Tyber vntrue tymber with tene.
138
Turne þe to Tuskayne;
For ye shul lese Bretayne,
With a king kene.
XXIII
This knighte shal be clanly enclosed with a crowne,And at Carlele shal þat comly be crowned as king;
A sege shal he seche with a cessione,
Þat myche baret and bale to bretayne shal bring.
Hit shal in Tuskane be tolde of þe tresone,
And ye shullene turne ayene fore þe tying;
Þere shal þe rounde table lese þe renoune,
Beside Ramsey, ful rad at a riding;
In dorset shire shal dy þe doughetest of alle.
Gete þe, sir Gawayne,
The boldest of bretayne;
In a slake þou shal be slayne,
Siche ferlyes shulle falle.
XXIV
Suche ferlies shulle fal, withoute eny fable,Vppone Cornewayle coost, withe a knighte kene;
Sir Arthur þe honest, auenant and able,
He shal be wounded, I wys, woþely, I wene;
And al þe rial rowte of þe rounde table,
Þei shullene dye one a day, þe doughety by-dene,
Suppriset with a surget; he beris hit in sable,
With a sauter engreled of siluer fulle shene.
He beris hit of sable, soþely to say;
140
The barne playes at þe balle,
Þat outray shalle you alle
Delfully þat day.
XXV
Haue gode day, Gaynour, and Gawayne þe gode!I haue no lenger tome tidinges telle;
I mot walke one my wey, þorgh þis wilde wode,
In my wonyng stid in wo for to dwelle.
Fore him þat rightwisly rose, and rest one þe rode,
Þenke one þe danger þat I yne dwelle;
Fede folke, fore my sake, þat failene þe fode,
And menge me with matens and masse in melle.
Masses arne medecynes to vs þat bale bides;
Vs þenke a masse as swete
As eny spice þat euer ye yete.”
With a grisly grete
Þe goste a-wey glides.
XXVI
Withe a grisly grete þe goost a-wey glides,And goes withe gronyng sore þorgh þe greues grene.
Þe wyndes, þe weders, þe welkene vnhides;
Þene vnclosed þe cloudes, þe sone con shene.
The king his bugle has blowene, and one þe bent bides;
His fare folke in þe frithe þei flokkene by-dene,
And al þe rialle route to þe quene rides;
She sayes hem þe selcouþes þat þei hadde þer seene;
The wise of þe weder for-wondred þey were;
142
Dame Gaynour and alle,
Went to Rondoles halle,
To þe suppere.
XXVII
The king to souper is set, serued in halle,Vnder a siller of silke, dayntly diȝte,
Withe al worshippe and wele menewith þe walle,
Briddes brandene and brad in bankers brighte.
Þere come in a soteler with a symballe,
A lady, lufsom of lote, ledand a kniȝte.
Ho raykes vp in a res bifor þe rialle,
And halsed sir Arthur, hendly one hiȝte.
Ho said to þe souerayne, wlonkest in wede:
“Mone makeles of mighte,
Here commes ane errant kniȝte;
Do him resone and riȝte,
For þi manhede.
XXVIII
Mone, in þy mantelle, þat sittes at þi mete,In pal pured to pay, prodly pight!” [OMITTED]
Þe tasses were of topas, þat were þere to tiȝte;
He gliffed vp with his eighen, þat grey were and grete,
With his beueren berde, on þat burde bright.
He was þe soueraynest of al sitting in sete
Þat euer segge had sene with his eȝe sighte.
King crowned in kithe, talkes hir tille:
144
He shal haue resone and righte;
Wheþene is þe comli kniȝte,
If hit be þi wille?”
XXIX
Ho was þe worþiest wighte þat eny wede wolde;Here gide was glorious and gay, of a gresse grene;
Here belle was of blunket, with birdes ful bolde,
Branded with brende golde, and bokeled ful bene;
Here fax in fyne perre was fretted in folde,
Contrefelet and kelle, coloured fulle clene;
With a crowne craftly, al of clene golde;
Here kercheues were curiouse, with many proude pene;
Here perre was praysed with prise mene of mighte.
Bright birdes and bolde,
Had I nore to be holde,
Of þat frely to folde,
And one þe hende knight.
XXX
The knighte in his colours was armed ful clene,Withe his comly crest, clere to be-holde;
His brene and his basnet, burneshed ful bene,
With a brandure aboughte, al of brende golde;
His mayles were mylke white, many hit seene;
His horse trapped of that ilke, as true men me tolde;
His shelde one his shulder, of siluer so shene,
With bere hedes of blake, browed ful bolde.
146
And in his cheuerone biforne,
Stode as ane vnicorne,
Als sharp as a þorne,
An Anlas of stele.
XXXI
In stele he was stuffed, þat stourne vppone stede,Al of sternes of golde his pencelle displaied;
His gloues, his gamesons glowed as a glede,
With graynes of rebe þat graied bene gay;
And his schene schynbandes, þat sharp were to shrede.
His polemus with pelicocus were poudred to pay;
Withe a launce one loft þat louely cone lede;
A freke one a fresone him folowed, in fay.
The Fresone was a-fered, for drede of þat fare,
For he was seldene wonte to se
The tablet flure,
Siche gamen ne gle,
Saȝ he neuer are.
XXXII
Arthur asked one hiȝte, herand hem alle:“What woldes þou, wee, if hit be thi wille?
Tel me what þou seches, and wheþer þou shalle,
And whi, þou sturne one þi stede, stondes so stille?”
He wayned vp his viser fro his ventalle,
With a knightly contenaunce he carpes him tille:
“Wheþer þou Cayser or king, here I þe be-calle,
Fore to finde me a freke, to fight with my fille;
Fighting to fraist I fonded fro home.”
148
“If þou be curteys kniȝte,
Late lenge al nyȝte,
And tel me þi nome.”
XXXIII
“Mi name is sir Galarone, withe outene eny gile,Þe grettest of Galwey, of greues and grylles,
Of connok, of Conyngham, and also kyle,
Of lomond, of losex, of loyane hilles.
Þou has wonene hem in werre, with a wrange wille,
And geuen hem to sir Gawayne, þat my hert grylles.
But he shal wring his honde, and warry þe wyle,
Er he weld hem, y-wys, agayne myne vmwylles.
Bi al þe welthe of þe worlde, he shal hem neuer welde,
While I þe hede may bere,
But if he wyne hem in were,
Withe a shelde and a Spere,
On a faire felde.
XXXIV
I wol fiȝte one a felde, þereto I make feithe,Withe eny freke vppone folde, þat frely is borne.
To lese suche a lordshippe me wold thenke laithe,
And iche lede opone lyue wold laghe me to scorne.”
“We ar in þe wode went, to walke one oure waithe,
To hunte at þe hertes with hounde and with horne;
We ar in oure gamene, we haue no gome graiþe;
But yet þou shalt be mached be mydday to morne.
For þi I rede þe, þenke rest al niȝte.”
150
Ledes him oute of the halle,
Into a pavilone of palle,
Þat prodly was piȝte.
XXXV
Piȝte was prodly, with purpour and palle,Birdes braudene aboue, in brend golde briȝte;
In-withe was a chapelle, a chambour, a halle,
A chymne with charcole, to chaufe þe kniȝte.
His stede was stabled, and led to þe stalle,
Hay hertly he had in haches one highte.
Siþene þei braide vp a borde, and cloþes þei calle,
Sanape and saler, semly to sighte,
Torches and brochetes, and stondardes bitwene.
Thus þei serued þat kniȝte,
And his worþely wiȝte,
With riche dayntes diȝte,
In siluer so shene.
XXXVI
In siluer so semely were serued of þe best,With vernage, in veres and cuppes ful clene;
And þus sir Gawayne þe good glades hour geste
With riche dayntees endored, in disshes by-dene.
Whane þe rialle renke was gone to his reste,
The king to counsaile has called his kniȝtes so kene:
“Loke nowe, lordes, oure lose be not lost;
Ho shal encontre with þe kniȝte, kestes you bitwene.”
Thene seid Gawayne þe goode: “shal hit not greue;
152
I wolle fight with þe knighte,
In defence of my riȝte,
Lorde, by your leue.”
XXXVII
“I leue wel,” quod þe king, “þi lates ar liȝte;But I nolde, for no lordeshippe, se þi life lorne.”
“Let go,” quod sir Gawayne, “god stond with þe riȝte!
If he skape skaþelese, hit were a foule skorne.”
In þe daying of þe day þe doughti were dighte,
And herdene matens and masse, erly one morne.
By þat on plumtone land a palais was piȝte,
Were neuer freke opone folde had fouȝtene biforne.
Þei settene listes by lyne one þe loȝ lande.
Thre soppes de mayne
Þei broughte to sir Gawayne,
For to confort his brayne,
Þe king gared commaunde.
XXXVIII
The king commaunded krudely, þe erlis sone of kent,Curtaysly in þis case take kepe to þe kniȝt.
With riche dayntees or day he dyned in his tente;
After buskes him in a brene, þat burneshed was briȝte,
Siþene to Waynour wisly he went;
He laft in here warde his worthly wighte.
After aither in highe hour horses þei hent,
And at þe listes one þe lande lordely done liȝte,
Bothe þes two burnes, baldest of blode.
154
Quene one a chacelet,
Many galiard gret,
For Gawayne þe gode.
XXXIX
Gawayne and Galerone gurdene here stedes,Al in gleterand golde gay was here gere;
Þe lordes by-lyue hom to list ledes
With many seriant of mace, as was þe manere.
The burnes broched þe blonkes þat þe side bledis.
Ayþer freke opone folde has fastned his spere;
Shaftes in shide wode þei shindre in shedes;
So iolile þes gentil Iusted one were!
Shaftes þei shindre in sheldes so shene,
And siþene, withe brondes brighte,
Riche mayles þei riȝte;
There encontres þe kniȝt
With Gawayne one grene.
XL
Gawyne was gaily graþed in grene,Withe his Griffons of golde engreled fulle gay,
Trifeled withe tranes, and true loves bitwene;
On a stargand stede þat strikes one stray,
Þat oþer in his turnaying he talkes in tene:
“Whi drawes þou þe on dreghe, and makes siche deray?”
He swapped him yne at þe swyre, with a swerde kene,
That greued sir Gawayne to his deþ day.
The dyntes of þat doughety were doutwis by-dene;
Fifte mayles and mo,
The swerde swapt in two
The canel bone also,
And clef his shelde shene.
156
XLI
He clef þorghe þe cantelle þat couered þe kniȝte,Thorghe þe shinand shelde a shaftmone and mare;
And þene þe lady loude lowe vppone highte,
And Gawayne greches þerwith, and gremed ful sare.
“I shal rewarde þe þi route, if I cone rede righte.”
He folowed in one þe Freke withe a fresshe fare,
Þorghe blasone and brene, þat burneshed were briȝte;
Withe a burliche bronde thorghe him he bare,
The bronde was blody þat burneshed was briȝte.
Then gloppened þat gay;
Hit was no ferly, in fay,
Þe sturne strikes one stray,
In stiropes striȝte.
XLII
Streyte in his steroppes, stoutely he strikes,And waynes at sir Wawayne, als he were wode;
Þene his lemmane on lowde skirles and skirkes,
Whene þat burly burne blenket one blode.
Lordes and ladies of þat laike likes,
And þonked god fele sithe for Gawayne þe gode.
Withe a swap of a swerde þat swaþel him swykes;
He stroke of þe stede hede streite þere he stode.
The faire fole fondred, and fel to þe grounde;
Gawayne gloppened in hert,
Of he were hasty and smert,
Oute of sterops he stert,
Fro grisselle þe goode.
XLIII
“Grisselle,” quod Gawayne, “gone is, god wote!He was þe burlokest blonke, þat euer bote brede!
158
I shalle venge þe to day, if I cone right rede.
Go fecche me my fresone, fairest one fote.
He may stonde þe in stoure, in as mekle stede;
No more for þe faire fole þene for a risshe rote,
But for doel of þe dombe best, þat þus shuld be dede;
I mourne for no monture, for I may gete mare.”
Als he stode by his stede,
Þat was so goode at nede,
Ner Gawayne wax wede,
So siked he sare.
XLIV
Thus wepus for wo Wowayne þe wighte,And wenys him to quyte þat wonded is sare;
Þat oþer droȝ him on dreȝt, for drede of þe kniȝte,
And boldely broched his blonk one þe bent bare.
“Þus may þou dryve forthe þe day to þe derke nighte!”
The sone was passed, by þat, mydday and mare.
Withe in þe listes þe lede lordly done lighte;
Touard þe burne withe his bronde, he busked him þare;
To bataile þey bowe withe brondes so brighte;
Shene sheldes were shred,
Brighte brenes by-bled,
Many douȝeti were a-dred,
So fersely þei fighte!
XLV
Thus þei feght one fote, one þat faire felde,As fresshe as a lyone þat fautes þe fille;
Wilele þes wighte mene þaire wepenes þey welde, [OMITTED]
He bronched him yne withe his bronde, vnder þe brode shelde,
Þorghe þe waast of þe body, and wonded him ille.
Þe swerd stent for no stuf, hit was so wel steled;
Þat oþer startis one bak, and stondis stone stille.
160
He gurdes to sir Gawayne,
Thorghe ventaile and pesayne;
He wanted noȝte to be slayne
Þe brede of ane hare.
XLVI
Hardely þene þes haþelese one helmes þey hewe,Þei betene downe beriles, and bourdures bright;
Shildes one shildres, þat shene were to shewe,
Fretted were in fyne golde, þei failene in fighte;
Stones of Iral þey strenkel and strewe,
Stiþe stapeles of stele þey strike done stiȝte;
Burnes bannene þe tyme þe bargane was brewe,
The dougheti withe dyntes so delfully were dight.
Thene gretes Gaynour, with bothe here gray ene,
For þo douȝeti þat fiȝte,
Were manly mached of mighte,
Withe oute resone or righte,
As al mene sene.
XLVII
Thus gretis Gaynour, withe boþe here gray yene,For gref of sir Gawayne, grisly was wounded;
The knighte of corage was cruel and kene,
And withe a stele bronde þat sturne oft stonded;
Al þe cost of knyȝt he carf downe clene,
Þorghe þe riche mailes, þat ronke were and rounde.
With a teneful touche he taȝt him in tene;
He gurdes sir Galerone groueling on gronde.
Grisly one gronde he groned one grene;
Als wounded as he was,
Sone buredely he ras,
And folowed fast one his tras,
With a swerde kene.
162
XLVIII
Kenely þat cruel keuered one hiȝte,And withe a scas of care in cautil he strikes,
And waynes at sir Wawyne, þat worþely wighte;
But him lymped þe worse, and þat me wel likes.
He atteled withe a slenke haf slayne him in sliȝte;
Þe swerd swapped one his swange, and one þe mayle slikes,
And Gawayne bi þe coler keppes þe kniȝte.
Þene his lemmane one loft skrilles and skrikes;
Ho gretes one Gaynour, with gronyng grylle;
“Lady makeles of mighte,
Haf mercy one yondre kniȝte,
That is so delfulle diȝte,
If hit be thi wille.”
XLIX
Wisly dame Waynour to þe king wente,Ho cauȝte of her coronalle, and kneled him tille:
“As þou art ioy roiall, richest of rente,
And I þi wife, wedded at þi owne wille,
Þes burnes in þe bataile so blede on þe bente,
They arne wery, I wis, and wonded fulle ille;
Þorghe here shene sheldes here shuldres are shent;
The grones of sir Gawayne dos my hert grille.
The grones of sir Gawayne greuene me sare;
Woldest þou, leve lorde,
Make þes knightes accorde,
Hit were a grete conforde
For alle þat þere ware.”
164
L
Thene spak sir Galerone to Gawayne þe good:“I wende neuer wee in þis world had bene half so wiȝte;
Here I make þe releyse, renke, by þe rode,
And by rial reysone relese þe my righte;
And siþene make the monradene, with a mylde mode,
As mane of medlert makeles of mighte.”
He talkes touard þe king one hie þer he stode,
And bede þat burly his bronde, þat burneshed was briȝte.
“Of rentes and richesse I make þe releyse.”
Downe kneled þe kniȝte,
And carped wordes one hiȝte;
The king stode vp righte
And commaunded pes.
LI
The king commaunded pes, and cried one hiȝte,And Gawayne was goodly, and laft for his sake.
Þene lordes to listes þey lopen ful liȝte,
Sir Ewayne fiȝ Griane, and Arrak fiȝ lake,
Sir Drurelat and Moylard, þat most were of miȝte.
Boþe þes trauayled mene þey truly vp take;
Vnnethe miȝte þo sturne stonde vp riȝte;
What for buffetes and blode, here blees wex blake;
Here blees were brosed, for beting of brondes.
Withe outene more lettynge,
Diȝte was here saȝtlynge;
Bifore þe comly kinge,
Þei held vp here hondes.
166
LII
“Here I gif sir Gawayne, with gersone and golde,Al þe Glamergane londe, with greues so grene;
Þe worship of Wales, at wil and al wolde,
Withe Criffones Castelles, curnelled ful clene;
Eke Vlstur halle, to hafe and to holde,
Wayford and Waterforde in Wales, I wene;
Two baronrees in Bretayne, with burghes so bolde,
Þat arne batailed abouȝte, and bigged ful bene.
I shal diȝte þe a Duke, and dubbe þe with honde,
Withe þi þou saȝtil with þe kniȝte,
Þat is so hardi and wiȝte,
And relese him his riȝte,
And graunte him his londe.”
LIII
“Here I gif sir Galerone,” quod G[awayne], “with outen any gile,Al þe londes and þe lithes, fro lauer to layre,
Connoke and carlele, Conyngham and Kile,
Yet if he of cheualry chalange ham [?] for aire;
Þe loþer, þe lemmoke, þe loynak, þe lile,
Withe frethis and forestes, and fosses so faire;
Vnder your lordeship to lenge here a while,
And to þe rounde table to make repaire.
I shall refeff him in felde, in forestes so faire.”
168
And al þe douȝti by-dene,
Þorghe þe greues so grene,
Carlele þei caire.
LIV
The king to Carlele is comene, with kniȝtes so kene,And al þe rounde table one rial aray.
Þe wees, þat werene wounded so woþely, I wene,
Surgenes sone saued, soþely to say;
Bothe confortes þe knightes, þe king and þe quene;
Thei were dubbed Dukes, bothe one a day.
There he wedded his wife, wlonkest, I wene,
Withe giftes and garsons, sir Galerone þe gay.
Þus þat haþel in hiȝ with holdes þat hende;
Whane he was saued sonde,
Þei made sir Galerone þat stonde
A kniȝte of þe table ronde,
To his lyues ende.
LV
Waynour gared wisely write in þe west,To al þe religious to rede and to singe;
Prestes with processione to pray were prest,
With a mylione of masses to make þe mynnynge.
Boke lered mene, bisshops þe best,
Þorghe al Bretayne besely þe burde gared rynge.
Þis ferely bifelle in englond forest,
170
Suche a huntyng in haast is noȝte to be hide.
Thus to forest þey fore,
Þes sterne knightes in store;
In þe tyme of Arthore,
This anter be-tide.
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