 | Guy of Warwick |  |
3
Guye of Warrewik.
[_]
The first leaf is missing from the Auchinleck MS. The Caius MS. has been followed until line 124. Square brackets denote editorial insertions or emendations.
Thorough hys grace & vertu,
Was in þis world bore
Of a mayd withowt hore,
And þe world crystendom
Among mankynd first becom,
Many aduentures hath be wrouȝt
Þat all men knoweth nouȝt.
Therfore men shull herken blythe,
And it vndirstonde right swythe,
For they that were borne or wee
Fayre aduenturis hadden they;
For euere they louyd sothfastenesse,
Faith with trewthe and stedfastnesse.
Therfore schulde man with gladde chere
Lerne goodnesse, vndirstonde, and here:
Who myke it hereth and vndirstondeth it
By resoun he shulde bee wyse of witte;
And y it holde a fayre mastrye,
To occupye wisedome and leue folye.
For why as of an Erle j shall yow telle,
How of hym it beefelle;
And of hys stewarde, withoute lesynge,
And of the stewarde sone, a fayre yonge thynge,
That gentil was and fayre bee-seen,
And how he loued a mayden sheen,
5
And how he spoused that swete wyghte,
And how that he reynbroun beegate—
All y kanne tell yow that—
And how he wente into wildernesse:
All y canne tell yow as it ys.
A wyseman it vnto vs seyd
That it wrote and in ryme it leyd.
I woll it not any longer concell,
But open the sentence as ye may fele.
In Englonde an Erle was wonnynge
In Warrewyke Citee, ryght as I fynde:
Ryche he was and grete of myght,
Erle he was, and a full stronge knyght,
Riche of gold and of syluer bothe,
Of clothes of gold and vessell, withoute othe,
Of stronge castellis and riche Citees:
Thorugh all Englond preised he was.
In all Englond ne was ther none
That durste in wrath ayenste hym goon.
Good knyghtis he loued y-wys,
And freely he gaue them of hys,
Therfore welbelouyd he was,
And grettly doubted in euery place.
Erle he was of grete price:
All that contree tho was hys;
Of oxenford and all that contrey
He was gouernoure at that day;
Of Bokyngham, and of all that shyre,
He was klepyd both lord and syre.
That Erle Rohaude hyght,
Baroun he was of grete myght.
A doughter he had of hys wyue,
Hyr grete beaute y can not dyscryue:
For the fairest men chesen hir y-wys.
That y you telle, sothe it is.
7
With a faire visage louely in sighte,
Hir skynne was white of brighte coloure;
Bodied wele and of grete valour;
Large tresses, and wele bee-comyng,
Browes bente and nose well sittyng;
The mouthe so wele sittyng ywys,
To kisse it ofte it was grete blys;
With grey eyen and nekke white,
Hir to see it was grete delite.
Hir bodye well sette and shaply;
By thoo daies ther was noon suche truely.
Gentil she was and as demure
As girfauk, or fawkon to lure,
That oute of muwe were drawe;
So faire was noon, in sothe sawe.
She was therto curteys and free ywys,
And in the .vii. artes well lerned, withoute mys.
All the .vii. artis she kouthe well,
Noon better that euere man herde tell.
Hir maisters were thider come
Oute of Tholouse all and some;
White and hoore all they were,
Bisy they were that mayden to lere;
And they hir lerned of astronomye,
Of Ars-meotrik, and of geometrye.
Of Sophestrie she was also witty,
Of Rethoric, and of other clergye;
Lerned she was in musyke;
Of clergie was hir noon like.
She was a woman of grete corage,
Wise and faire and of gaye parage.
To haue hir to wif he did hir sende
Erles, Dukes, fro the worldes ende;
And noon of theim haue she wolde,
For that she was so faire holde.
9
Moche she was belouid ywis;
Of all faire she was the floure,
Noon so faire in halle nor boure
As she was; who that soughte
So faire to fynde, for noughte he wroughte:
He that all hir beaute write wolde,
To longe tarying make he sholde.
Nowe we shull leue of hir here,
And telle you forthe of our matiere.
Speke we schull of the Stywarde:
Well true he was, and highte Sywarde.
This Syward was slighe and wise,
Riche of kynde, and of grete prise:
In his tyme noon better was,
For of grete worship was noon in his caas.
Of armes he had been chief on grounde,
And therof preised in many a londe;
For that he wolde preysed bee,
He did him bee knowen in many a contree.
In Walyngforde he was borne.
All that Contree to him was sworne.
A swiche noble man he was,
On this half the see noon suche was,
That serued his lorde so truely,
And in all thinges so worshipfully.
And telle you forthe of our matiere.
Speke we schull of the Stywarde:
Well true he was, and highte Sywarde.
This Syward was slighe and wise,
Riche of kynde, and of grete prise:
In his tyme noon better was,
For of grete worship was noon in his caas.
Of armes he had been chief on grounde,
And therof preised in many a londe;
For that he wolde preysed bee,
He did him bee knowen in many a contree.
In Walyngforde he was borne.
All that Contree to him was sworne.
A swiche noble man he was,
On this half the see noon suche was,
That serued his lorde so truely,
And in all thinges so worshipfully.
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The Auchinleck MS. has been followed from line 123. Line numbers have been changed to concur with original the MS.
His lord he serued treweliche
In al þing manschipeliche.
þer was non erl in Inglond
þat to ȝeines him durst stond,
Bot, ȝif he wold be wiþ him at on,
He wald do nimen him anon,
& wiþ strengþe him nim wolde,
þei he to Scotlond suwe him scholde.
His lordis honour he held worþschipliche,
& defended it wele & hardiliche;
þer nas kni[ȝ]t in Inglonde
þat wiþ wretþe durst him atstonde.
þei a man bar an hundred pounde,
Opon him, of gold y-grounde,
þe[r] nas man in al þis londe
þat durst him do schame no schonde,
þat bireft him worþ of a slo,
So gode pais þer was þo.
In al þing manschipeliche.
þer was non erl in Inglond
þat to ȝeines him durst stond,
Bot, ȝif he wold be wiþ him at on,
He wald do nimen him anon,
& wiþ strengþe him nim wolde,
þei he to Scotlond suwe him scholde.
His lordis honour he held worþschipliche,
& defended it wele & hardiliche;
þer nas kni[ȝ]t in Inglonde
þat wiþ wretþe durst him atstonde.
10
Opon him, of gold y-grounde,
þe[r] nas man in al þis londe
þat durst him do schame no schonde,
þat bireft him worþ of a slo,
So gode pais þer was þo.
Þilke steward hadde a sone
Trewe & wise atte frome;
Al folk he dede him loue,
For þat noman schuld him schoue;
& riche ȝiftes ȝiuen he wold,
For þat he schuld be fre yhold.
þerl Rohaud he serued þo,
As he schuld his kinde lorde do;
þerl him loued swiþe dere,
Ouer al oþer þat þer were.
Of his coupe serue he him dede,
He was preysed to him in euerich stede:
Þerl michel him worþschipede,
& for his fader loue to him clepede.
Gij of Warwike his name was,
In court non better beloued þer nas,
So he was among gret lordinges,
Litel & michel in al þinges.
Gentil he was & of michel miȝt,
Ouer al oþer feirest bi siȝt:
Al þai wonderd strongliche,
For his feirhed was so miche;
So mani godenes in him were,
Al him preysed þer y-fere,
Of bordis & turnament y-wis,
Kniȝtes to hauen & holden of pris.
Trewe & wise atte frome;
Al folk he dede him loue,
For þat noman schuld him schoue;
& riche ȝiftes ȝiuen he wold,
For þat he schuld be fre yhold.
þerl Rohaud he serued þo,
As he schuld his kinde lorde do;
þerl him loued swiþe dere,
Ouer al oþer þat þer were.
Of his coupe serue he him dede,
He was preysed to him in euerich stede:
Þerl michel him worþschipede,
& for his fader loue to him clepede.
Gij of Warwike his name was,
In court non better beloued þer nas,
So he was among gret lordinges,
Litel & michel in al þinges.
Gentil he was & of michel miȝt,
Ouer al oþer feirest bi siȝt:
Al þai wonderd strongliche,
For his feirhed was so miche;
So mani godenes in him were,
Al him preysed þer y-fere,
Of bordis & turnament y-wis,
Kniȝtes to hauen & holden of pris.
Gij a forster fader hadde,
þat him lerd & him radde
Of wodes & riuer & oþer game:
Herhaud of Ardern was his name.
He was hende & wele y-tauȝt,
Gij to lern forȝat he nauȝt;
Michel he couþe of hauk & hounde,
Of estriche faucouns of gret mounde.
þat him lerd & him radde
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Herhaud of Ardern was his name.
He was hende & wele y-tauȝt,
Gij to lern forȝat he nauȝt;
Michel he couþe of hauk & hounde,
Of estriche faucouns of gret mounde.
It was opon a Pentecost day yteld,
þerl a gret fest held
At Warwike in þat cite,
þat þan was y-won to be.
þider cam men of miche miȝt,
Erls & barouns boþe apliȝt,
Leuedis & maidens of gret mounde,
þat in þe lond wer y-founde.
Eueriche maiden ches hir loue
Of kniȝtes þat wer þider y-come,
& euerich kniȝt his leman
Of þat gentil maiden wiman;
When þai were fro chirche y-come,
þer aliȝt mani a noble gome.
þerl to þe mete was sett,
Gij stode forn him in þat flett,
þat was þe steward sone,
þerl to serue it was his wone.
To him he cleped Gij,
& him hete & comandi
þat he in to chaumber went,
& grete wele þat maiden gent,
& þat he schuld þat ich day
Serue wele þat feir may.
þerl a gret fest held
At Warwike in þat cite,
þat þan was y-won to be.
þider cam men of miche miȝt,
Erls & barouns boþe apliȝt,
Leuedis & maidens of gret mounde,
þat in þe lond wer y-founde.
Eueriche maiden ches hir loue
Of kniȝtes þat wer þider y-come,
& euerich kniȝt his leman
Of þat gentil maiden wiman;
When þai were fro chirche y-come,
þer aliȝt mani a noble gome.
þerl to þe mete was sett,
Gij stode forn him in þat flett,
þat was þe steward sone,
þerl to serue it was his wone.
To him he cleped Gij,
& him hete & comandi
þat he in to chaumber went,
& grete wele þat maiden gent,
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Serue wele þat feir may.
Gij him answerd freliche:
‘Sir, ichil wel bleþeliche.’
In a kirtel of silk he gan him schrede,
Into chaumber wel sone he ȝede.
Þe kirtel bicom him swiþe wel,
To Amenden þer on was neuer a del;
Þe maidens biheld him feir & wel,
For þat he was so gentil.
Gij on his knes sone him sett,
& on hir fader half he hir grett,
& seyd he was þider sent
To serue hir to hir talent.
Felice answerd þan to Gij
‘Bieus amis, molt gramerci.’
& seþþe sche asked him in þe plas
Whennes he cam, & what he was.
‘Mi fader,’ he seyd, ‘hat Suward,
þat is þi fader steward,
þat wiþ him me haþ y-held
& forþ y-brouȝt, God him for-ȝeld!’
‘Artow,’ sche seyd, ‘Suward sone,
þat of al godenes haþ þe wone?’
Gij stode stille & seyd nouȝt.
Wiþ þat was the water forþ brouȝt:
þai sett hem to mete anon,
Erl, baroun, sweyn & grom.
‘Sir, ichil wel bleþeliche.’
In a kirtel of silk he gan him schrede,
Into chaumber wel sone he ȝede.
Þe kirtel bicom him swiþe wel,
To Amenden þer on was neuer a del;
Þe maidens biheld him feir & wel,
For þat he was so gentil.
Gij on his knes sone him sett,
& on hir fader half he hir grett,
& seyd he was þider sent
To serue hir to hir talent.
Felice answerd þan to Gij
‘Bieus amis, molt gramerci.’
& seþþe sche asked him in þe plas
Whennes he cam, & what he was.
‘Mi fader,’ he seyd, ‘hat Suward,
þat is þi fader steward,
þat wiþ him me haþ y-held
& forþ y-brouȝt, God him for-ȝeld!’
‘Artow,’ sche seyd, ‘Suward sone,
þat of al godenes haþ þe wone?’
Gij stode stille & seyd nouȝt.
Wiþ þat was the water forþ brouȝt:
þai sett hem to mete anon,
Erl, baroun, sweyn & grom.
Gij was bisy þat ich day
To serue wele þat feir may.
þat day Gij dede his miȝt
To serue þritti maidens briȝt;
Al an-amourd on him þai were,
& loued Gij for his feir chere.
þer of no ȝaf he riȝt nouȝt,
Al anoþer it was his þouȝt:
On Felice þat was so briȝt,
Gij hir loued wiþ al his miȝt;
So michel sche was in his þouȝt,
þat neye he was to deþ y-brouȝt,
He gan to wepe & sore siche,
& biment him wel reweliche;
To serue wele þat feir may.
þat day Gij dede his miȝt
To serue þritti maidens briȝt;
Al an-amourd on him þai were,
& loued Gij for his feir chere.
þer of no ȝaf he riȝt nouȝt,
Al anoþer it was his þouȝt:
16
Gij hir loued wiþ al his miȝt;
So michel sche was in his þouȝt,
þat neye he was to deþ y-brouȝt,
He gan to wepe & sore siche,
& biment him wel reweliche;
& grete wonder he hadde y-wis
þat Felice so feir a creatour is.
Ac he no dar his loue keþe,
No sen hir wel vnneþe,
He is in so gret þouȝt,
His conseyl wil he schewe nouȝt.
Into þe maidens chaumber he is y-go,
At Felice he tok his leue þo,
& in his way he goþ apliȝt.
Vnto his chamber he went ful riȝt,
& wepe & made grete wo,
For he loued þat maiden so.
His men axed him on hy,
Whi þat he was so sori?
He hem answerd sone anon,
þat swiche iuel is comen him on
þat he weneþ his liif forgon,
Bote no tit him neuer non.
In þe court biment was Gij;
Mani man for him was sori,
For he was won to serue hem wel,
& ȝif hem mani a iuwel.
Now is Gij in gret tempest,
Sorwe he makeþ wiþ þe mest
Of Felice þat feir may;
For hir loue he sorweþ ay.
& grete wonder he haþ y-wis
Þat him so hard bifallen is;
He acursed þe time þat [he] hir say,
Felice wiþ hir eyȝen gray,
Hir gray eyȝen, hir nebbis schene:
‘For hir mi liif is miche in wene.
To hir ichil tellen al mi þouȝt,
Whi þat icham in sorwe brouȝt.
Tide me gode oþer qued,
Y nil it hele for no nede,
Riȝt to hir that y ne go
& schewe hir of mi miche wo.
þat Felice so feir a creatour is.
Ac he no dar his loue keþe,
No sen hir wel vnneþe,
He is in so gret þouȝt,
His conseyl wil he schewe nouȝt.
Into þe maidens chaumber he is y-go,
At Felice he tok his leue þo,
& in his way he goþ apliȝt.
Vnto his chamber he went ful riȝt,
& wepe & made grete wo,
For he loued þat maiden so.
His men axed him on hy,
Whi þat he was so sori?
He hem answerd sone anon,
þat swiche iuel is comen him on
þat he weneþ his liif forgon,
Bote no tit him neuer non.
In þe court biment was Gij;
Mani man for him was sori,
For he was won to serue hem wel,
& ȝif hem mani a iuwel.
Now is Gij in gret tempest,
Sorwe he makeþ wiþ þe mest
Of Felice þat feir may;
For hir loue he sorweþ ay.
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Þat him so hard bifallen is;
He acursed þe time þat [he] hir say,
Felice wiþ hir eyȝen gray,
Hir gray eyȝen, hir nebbis schene:
‘For hir mi liif is miche in wene.
To hir ichil tellen al mi þouȝt,
Whi þat icham in sorwe brouȝt.
Tide me gode oþer qued,
Y nil it hele for no nede,
Riȝt to hir that y ne go
& schewe hir of mi miche wo.
Ac now to hir schewen y nille;
Allas, wreche, hou may i duelle?
Allas, wreche, hou may i duelle?
For mi lordes douhter sche is,
& ich his nori, forsoþe y-wis;
Þerfore ich auȝt him treweþe bere,
& neuer more him to dere.
Ȝif ich hir loued, & it wist he,
& he miȝt ouer-take me,
He wald anon mine heued of smite,
Oþer heye hong, for that wite,
Oþer hewe me wiþ swerdes kene,
Ȝif ich hadde don him þat tene.
Allas, wreche, what may y do?
Y loue þing y no may com to!’
& ich his nori, forsoþe y-wis;
Þerfore ich auȝt him treweþe bere,
& neuer more him to dere.
Ȝif ich hir loued, & it wist he,
& he miȝt ouer-take me,
He wald anon mine heued of smite,
Oþer heye hong, for that wite,
Oþer hewe me wiþ swerdes kene,
Ȝif ich hadde don him þat tene.
Allas, wreche, what may y do?
Y loue þing y no may com to!’
Now is Gij in sorwe ybrouȝt;
Of his liif nis him nouȝt.
Of his liif nis him nouȝt.
He went and trent his bed opon,
So man þat is wo bigon;
He no may sitt no stonde,
No vnneþe drawen his onde;
Rest, no take slepeinge,
Mete ete, no drinke dringe;
No may him noman comforti,
Bot euer his song is wo & wi.
In so gret þouȝt was he þo,
& so gret sorwe toke him to,
Leuer him wer walk & wende,
& dye in trewe loue bende.
So man þat is wo bigon;
20
No vnneþe drawen his onde;
Rest, no take slepeinge,
Mete ete, no drinke dringe;
No may him noman comforti,
Bot euer his song is wo & wi.
In so gret þouȝt was he þo,
& so gret sorwe toke him to,
Leuer him wer walk & wende,
& dye in trewe loue bende.
Þus [Gij] lay in grete turment
Til þat þe fest was al to-went.
Swiche an iuel is on him fast,
Þat he no may it of him cast;
He no wil noman his care schewe.
His sorwes ben euer aliche newe,
Þat he no may his loue haue,
Grete strengþe him doþ wiþ-drawe.
Þer-fore he seyd, ‘ichil hir schewe,
My peyne is euer aliche newe;
Of al mi sorwe nis hir nouȝt,
Ich wold ich were to deþ y-brouȝt.
Bitide me iuel oþer gode,
Ichil it held in mi mode;
& ȝif sche wil, sche may me spille,
Ac for al þat leten y nille.’
Til þat þe fest was al to-went.
Swiche an iuel is on him fast,
Þat he no may it of him cast;
He no wil noman his care schewe.
His sorwes ben euer aliche newe,
Þat he no may his loue haue,
Grete strengþe him doþ wiþ-drawe.
Þer-fore he seyd, ‘ichil hir schewe,
My peyne is euer aliche newe;
Of al mi sorwe nis hir nouȝt,
Ich wold ich were to deþ y-brouȝt.
Bitide me iuel oþer gode,
Ichil it held in mi mode;
& ȝif sche wil, sche may me spille,
Ac for al þat leten y nille.’
Now is Gij to court y-go,
As man þat is ful of wo,
& on his knes he him dede
Bifor Felice in þat stede,
& to hir he spac wel euen
Wiþ a wel queynt steuen,
& seyd, ‘Felice þe feir, merci!
For godes loue & our leuedi,
Þat y þe no finde mi dedliche fo,
For godes loue herken me to!
No longer hele y nille,
Al that soþe tellen y wille.
As man þat is ful of wo,
& on his knes he him dede
Bifor Felice in þat stede,
& to hir he spac wel euen
Wiþ a wel queynt steuen,
& seyd, ‘Felice þe feir, merci!
For godes loue & our leuedi,
Þat y þe no finde mi dedliche fo,
For godes loue herken me to!
22
Al that soþe tellen y wille.
Þou art þe þing þat y most ȝerne,
Fro þe no may mine hert terne;
Opon al oþer y loue þe,
Y no may it lete ded to be.
Vnder heuen no þing nis,
Noiþer gode no qued y-wis,
Þat y for þe don y nolde,
To lete þat liif don y wolde.
Þou art mi liif, mi ded y-wis,
Wiþouten þe haue y no blis;
Y loue þe and tow nouȝt me,
Y dye for þe loue of þe.
Bot þou haue merci on me,
For sorwe ichil me self sle,
For wistestow þe heuinisse,
Þe sorwe and þe sorinisse,
Þat me is on niȝt and day
(Bi trewe loue siggen ich it may)—
& tow it miȝt wiþ eyȝen se,
Þou wost haue merci on me.’
Fro þe no may mine hert terne;
Opon al oþer y loue þe,
Y no may it lete ded to be.
Vnder heuen no þing nis,
Noiþer gode no qued y-wis,
Þat y for þe don y nolde,
To lete þat liif don y wolde.
Þou art mi liif, mi ded y-wis,
Wiþouten þe haue y no blis;
Y loue þe and tow nouȝt me,
Y dye for þe loue of þe.
Bot þou haue merci on me,
For sorwe ichil me self sle,
For wistestow þe heuinisse,
Þe sorwe and þe sorinisse,
Þat me is on niȝt and day
(Bi trewe loue siggen ich it may)—
& tow it miȝt wiþ eyȝen se,
Þou wost haue merci on me.’
Felice þe feir answerd þo,
‘Artow þis, Gij, so mot þou go,
Þe steward sone Suward,
Ich wene þou art a fole musard!
When þou of loue me hast bisauȝt,
Al to fole-hardy þou art y-tauȝt.
Wele þou holdest me for a fole;
Þou art y-tauȝt to a liþer scole,
& icham þi lordes douhter biname;
Þan dostow him wel michel schame,
When þou of loue bi-sechist me
Þat y schold þi leman be.
No fond y neuer man me so missede,
No me so of loue bede,
Noyþer kniȝt no baroun,
Bot þou þat art a garsoun,
& art mi man, & man schalt be.
Yuel were mi fairhed sett on þe,
& y swiche a grome toke,
& so mani grete lordinges for-soke.
Erls, doukes of þe best
In þis world, & þe richest,
Me haue desired apliȝt,
Þat neuer of me hadde siȝt.
Þat wer gret deshonour to me!
Al to loþ mi liif me schuld be.
Al to fole-hardi þou were,
When þou me of loue bisouȝtest here.
Bi mi trewþe y schal þe swere,
Schal y mi fader þe tiding bere,
Þou worþest to-hewen, oþer for-do,
(Bi þe be warned oþer mo)
Oþer wiþ wilde hors to-drawe,
For þi foly, & þat wer lawe,
& oþer schul be warned bi þi dede,
& her lordinges þe more drede.
Go heþen,’ sche seyd, ‘& vp arise,
& cum nam-more in mi purpris!’
‘Artow þis, Gij, so mot þou go,
Þe steward sone Suward,
Ich wene þou art a fole musard!
When þou of loue me hast bisauȝt,
Al to fole-hardy þou art y-tauȝt.
Wele þou holdest me for a fole;
Þou art y-tauȝt to a liþer scole,
& icham þi lordes douhter biname;
Þan dostow him wel michel schame,
24
Þat y schold þi leman be.
No fond y neuer man me so missede,
No me so of loue bede,
Noyþer kniȝt no baroun,
Bot þou þat art a garsoun,
& art mi man, & man schalt be.
Yuel were mi fairhed sett on þe,
& y swiche a grome toke,
& so mani grete lordinges for-soke.
Erls, doukes of þe best
In þis world, & þe richest,
Me haue desired apliȝt,
Þat neuer of me hadde siȝt.
Þat wer gret deshonour to me!
Al to loþ mi liif me schuld be.
Al to fole-hardi þou were,
When þou me of loue bisouȝtest here.
Bi mi trewþe y schal þe swere,
Schal y mi fader þe tiding bere,
Þou worþest to-hewen, oþer for-do,
(Bi þe be warned oþer mo)
Oþer wiþ wilde hors to-drawe,
For þi foly, & þat wer lawe,
& oþer schul be warned bi þi dede,
& her lordinges þe more drede.
Go heþen,’ sche seyd, ‘& vp arise,
& cum nam-more in mi purpris!’
Wel sorwefuliche went Gij
In to his chaumber al dreri:
Gij in to his chaumber gan to gon,
& schett him þer in anon.
Þer in he made sorwe anouȝ,
& his cloþes al to-drouȝ.
Vnder heuen nas þat it ne miȝt haue rewþe
Of his sorwenes & of his trewþe.
Of loue he bi-ment strongliche
For whom þat he loued so miche:
‘Loue,’ he seyd, ‘slake now mi sore
Þat is dedeliche, as y seyd ore.
Loue of þis ȝongling
Makeþ me iuel fonding.
Loue, bring me of þis wodenisse,
& bring me in to sum lisse,
For to reste me aþrowe,
Þat y miȝt meseluen knowe.
Sore me meneþ, for me smert,
Miche care is in mine hert,
Michel ich am y-cast of miȝt
Al to fer wiþ vnriȝt.
Loue me doþ to grounde falle,
Þat y ne may stond stef wiþ alle.
Loue doþ min cloþes done,
& after me clepeþ ‘wreche’ sone.
Hou schal y liue? hou schal y fare?
Hou long schal y liuen in care?
Leuest þing me were to dye,
& ich wist bi wiche weye.
Deþ,’ he seyd, ‘wher artow so long?
Þou makest me y may nouȝt stond.
Þou makest me out of þe way to gon;
Whi ne comestow to feche me anon?
Worþi ich were ded to be:
Y loue þing þat loueþ nouȝt me.
Herkeneþ now hou seiþ þe wise:
Y schal ȝou schewe bi þis asise.
For a fole he schal him held
Þat takeþ more þan he may weld.
To a fenestre þan Gij is go,
Biheld þe castel, þe tour also.
‘Tour,’ he seyd, ‘feir artow bisett!
In þe is þat maiden bischett
Þat liueþ þer in ioie & blis,
& ichir loue for soþe y-wis.
Tour, when wer thou ouer-þrowe,
And wiþ þe winde al to-blowe!
Þat y miȝt hir wiþ eyȝen se
Þat y loue more þan me!’
He ginneþ to wepe & sore siche,
His care him neweþ eueriliche;
Adoun he fel and swoune bigan,
(More sorwe made neuer man)
& cursed þe time þat he was bore,
For now he haþ his witt forlore.
‘Loue,’ he seyd, ‘acursed þou be!
To michel miȝt it is in þe
Þat y ne may me fro þe were;
Loue, merci, þatow me no dere!
Leuer me were forto dye
Þan long to liuen here in eyȝe.
Allas, Felice, þat ich stounde,
Þi loue me haþ so ybounde!
& þat y serued þe þat day,
Acursed be þat time, seyen y may!
No bid ichaue non oþer mede,
Bot slake mi sorwe, ichaue nede.
Y loue þe & tow nouȝt me.
Euen dole may it nouȝt be;
For of mi sorwe no hastow nouȝt.
Allas! to grounde icham ybrouȝt!
Þou hast þe gode, & y þe quede:
Y brenne so spark on glede.
Seþþe þou me lokedest first to,
Þou me woundest wiþ a flo.
Schal y dye for þat siȝt?
Merci, Felice, þat swete wiȝt!
Mine hert is ful of venim spilt,
Of blis no worþ it neuer filt.’
Swiche liif ladde Gij sikerliche
Al that seuenniȝt holeliche.
His fader was for him sori,
Sabin his moder biment Gij,
Þerl for him sori was,
Þer liked non in that plas:
Litel & michel, al & some,
Biment Gij att[e] frome.
In to his chaumber al dreri:
Gij in to his chaumber gan to gon,
& schett him þer in anon.
Þer in he made sorwe anouȝ,
& his cloþes al to-drouȝ.
Vnder heuen nas þat it ne miȝt haue rewþe
Of his sorwenes & of his trewþe.
26
For whom þat he loued so miche:
‘Loue,’ he seyd, ‘slake now mi sore
Þat is dedeliche, as y seyd ore.
Loue of þis ȝongling
Makeþ me iuel fonding.
Loue, bring me of þis wodenisse,
& bring me in to sum lisse,
For to reste me aþrowe,
Þat y miȝt meseluen knowe.
Sore me meneþ, for me smert,
Miche care is in mine hert,
Michel ich am y-cast of miȝt
Al to fer wiþ vnriȝt.
Loue me doþ to grounde falle,
Þat y ne may stond stef wiþ alle.
Loue doþ min cloþes done,
& after me clepeþ ‘wreche’ sone.
Hou schal y liue? hou schal y fare?
Hou long schal y liuen in care?
Leuest þing me were to dye,
& ich wist bi wiche weye.
Deþ,’ he seyd, ‘wher artow so long?
Þou makest me y may nouȝt stond.
Þou makest me out of þe way to gon;
Whi ne comestow to feche me anon?
Worþi ich were ded to be:
Y loue þing þat loueþ nouȝt me.
Herkeneþ now hou seiþ þe wise:
Y schal ȝou schewe bi þis asise.
For a fole he schal him held
Þat takeþ more þan he may weld.
To a fenestre þan Gij is go,
Biheld þe castel, þe tour also.
‘Tour,’ he seyd, ‘feir artow bisett!
In þe is þat maiden bischett
28
& ichir loue for soþe y-wis.
Tour, when wer thou ouer-þrowe,
And wiþ þe winde al to-blowe!
Þat y miȝt hir wiþ eyȝen se
Þat y loue more þan me!’
He ginneþ to wepe & sore siche,
His care him neweþ eueriliche;
Adoun he fel and swoune bigan,
(More sorwe made neuer man)
& cursed þe time þat he was bore,
For now he haþ his witt forlore.
‘Loue,’ he seyd, ‘acursed þou be!
To michel miȝt it is in þe
Þat y ne may me fro þe were;
Loue, merci, þatow me no dere!
Leuer me were forto dye
Þan long to liuen here in eyȝe.
Allas, Felice, þat ich stounde,
Þi loue me haþ so ybounde!
& þat y serued þe þat day,
Acursed be þat time, seyen y may!
No bid ichaue non oþer mede,
Bot slake mi sorwe, ichaue nede.
Y loue þe & tow nouȝt me.
Euen dole may it nouȝt be;
For of mi sorwe no hastow nouȝt.
Allas! to grounde icham ybrouȝt!
Þou hast þe gode, & y þe quede:
Y brenne so spark on glede.
Seþþe þou me lokedest first to,
Þou me woundest wiþ a flo.
Schal y dye for þat siȝt?
Merci, Felice, þat swete wiȝt!
Mine hert is ful of venim spilt,
Of blis no worþ it neuer filt.’
30
Al that seuenniȝt holeliche.
His fader was for him sori,
Sabin his moder biment Gij,
Þerl for him sori was,
Þer liked non in that plas:
Litel & michel, al & some,
Biment Gij att[e] frome.
Þerl dede þe leches of-sende
Of Gyes iuel to wite þat ende.
Þe leches ben to him y-go:
Gij þai finde blaike and blo;
Hij asked him where his iuel stode.
He seyd for hete he brend nere wode:
‘So hot ich am, & bren[n]inge,
Mi sorwe is euer cominge,
Þat al mi limes it haþ to-tiȝt;
Swiche liif y lede day & niȝt.
After þe hete me comeþ a chele
Þat me greueþ wiþ vn-skele,
Þat y wex cold as ise.
So vn-kinde iuel it is,
Þat al mine limes it wil to-te;
& seþþe me comeþ swouninges þre,
For anguis swoune it me doþ
Tviis or þriis, y say for soþ.
Swiche liif y lede niȝt & day:
Non oþer wise y no can ȝou say.’
Of Gyes iuel to wite þat ende.
Þe leches ben to him y-go:
Gij þai finde blaike and blo;
Hij asked him where his iuel stode.
He seyd for hete he brend nere wode:
‘So hot ich am, & bren[n]inge,
Mi sorwe is euer cominge,
Þat al mi limes it haþ to-tiȝt;
Swiche liif y lede day & niȝt.
After þe hete me comeþ a chele
Þat me greueþ wiþ vn-skele,
Þat y wex cold as ise.
So vn-kinde iuel it is,
Þat al mine limes it wil to-te;
& seþþe me comeþ swouninges þre,
For anguis swoune it me doþ
Tviis or þriis, y say for soþ.
Swiche liif y lede niȝt & day:
Non oþer wise y no can ȝou say.’
Þan seyd þat on, ‘a feuer it is.’
‘Ȝa,’ quod Gij, ‘a liþer y-wis.’
Þe leches gon, & lete Gij one,
Þat makeþ wel michel mone.
‘God,’ quod Gij, ‘what schal y do?
Hou long schal y liuen in wo?
Þat y no miȝt ded be,
When y no may hir wiþ eyȝen se,
Þat haþ al mine hert & þouȝt!
& y no misgilt hir neuer nouȝt,
Bot on þat ichir loue wel,
& euer more loue schel!
Ȝif ich it hir schewe, sche wil telle
Hir fader, & he me wil quelle.
Þei he it wist, siker apliȝt,
More þan me sle don he no miȝt.
Ȝif he me slouȝ, it were schonde,
Schuld y þan for deþ wonde;
To hir for soþe ichil go
& schewe hir of mi michel wo.
Vnder heuen [n]is so strong þing
So is loue and wowing.
Now,’ he seyd, ‘what for þan?
Þei ich hir loue, blame me noman;
To warant ichil drawe atte frome
Þat loue doþ me þider come,
& þat loue doþ me go to þe
Þat y no may wiþ-hold me.’
With þis Gij arisen is,
‘Ȝa,’ quod Gij, ‘a liþer y-wis.’
Þe leches gon, & lete Gij one,
Þat makeþ wel michel mone.
‘God,’ quod Gij, ‘what schal y do?
Hou long schal y liuen in wo?
Þat y no miȝt ded be,
When y no may hir wiþ eyȝen se,
32
& y no misgilt hir neuer nouȝt,
Bot on þat ichir loue wel,
& euer more loue schel!
Ȝif ich it hir schewe, sche wil telle
Hir fader, & he me wil quelle.
Þei he it wist, siker apliȝt,
More þan me sle don he no miȝt.
Ȝif he me slouȝ, it were schonde,
Schuld y þan for deþ wonde;
To hir for soþe ichil go
& schewe hir of mi michel wo.
Vnder heuen [n]is so strong þing
So is loue and wowing.
Now,’ he seyd, ‘what for þan?
Þei ich hir loue, blame me noman;
To warant ichil drawe atte frome
Þat loue doþ me þider come,
& þat loue doþ me go to þe
Þat y no may wiþ-hold me.’
& to þe gate goþ y-wis.
‘God,’ quod Gij, ‘y do foliliche:
Y sle me seluen sikerliche;
Mine owhen [deþ] y go now secheinde.
God,’ he seyd, ‘be mine helpinde!’
Adoun he fel a-swounie;
& when he gan to dawei,
‘To þe court,’ he seyd, ‘ichil go,
Be it for wele or for wo:
To þe court ichil, what so bitide,
Þei gret strengþe me do abide.’
Now is Gij to court y-comen
As man þat is wiþ sorwe y-nome,
& in to an erber he is y-go,
Felice findeþ þer in þo;
34
Al wepeand to hir he seyd,
‘Felice, now ich am comen to þe,
& ȝif þou wilt, þou miȝt m[e] sle,
For now icham wiþ-in thi loke,
& þine hest ichaue to-broke.
For ich would þatow seye
Þe sorwe þat y for þe dreye:
Þe strong pine & þe wo
Y dreye for þe euer-mo.
Mine hert schal bileue wiþ þe:
Wiltow, niltow, it schal so be,
Þat mi bodi ferli may,
Bot þat wille it lasteþ ay.
Þer while y liue, loue y þe wille,
& bot ȝif y do, ichil me spille;
For me no schal it to-deled be
Þer while þat liif it lasteþ in me;
Þe to loue no miȝtow me forbede,
In wo & sorwe þou dost me fede.
Whan it worþ þi fader y-teld
Þatow hast mine hert in weld,
& he wite that y loue þe,
Ichot for soþe he wil me sle;
& þat schal turn me al to blis
When y schal dye for soþe y-wis.
Henne forward ne reche y me
Of mi liif, whare it be,
No of mi deþ neuer þe mo
No reche y neuer where y go.’
He ferd as he wer mat,
Adoun he fel aswoune wiþ þat;
Felice stode & loked him to
& biheld his strong wo;
36
‘Take him vp in þine armes to,
& lay him soft on þe grounde’;
& sche dede so in þat stounde.
Þat mayden ȝede to him wepeinde,
& Gij wel sore biminde:
‘Bi god of heuen,’ sche seyd,
& ich wer as feir a mayd,
& as riche kinges douhter were
As ani in þis warld here,
& he of mi loue vnder-nome were,
As he is of þine in strong manere,
& he wald me so o loue ȝerne,
Me þenke y no myȝt it him nouȝt werne.’
Felice the feir answerd þo:
‘Damisel,’ sche seyd, ‘whi seistow so?
Þou art to blame, al-so y se,
No-þing þer-mid no paistow me.
Oft þou hast y-herd in speche
Þat we no schal no man biseche,
Ac men schul biseche wimen
In the feirest maner þat þai can,
& fond to speden ȝif þai may
Boþe bi niȝtes and bi day.’
Of his swouning he vpros þo;
Þe maiden him tok in armes to.
Felice seyd to Gij, ‘þou dost folie,
Þatow wilt for mi loue dye;
Schal y do mi fader of-sende?
I schal him telle word & ende,
Þat tow dost me litel worþschipe,
When þou me desirest to schenschipe;
In his court he schal deme þe,
& al to-lime, to queme me.’
‘Damisel,’ sche seyd, ‘whi seistow so?
Þou art to blame, al-so y se,
No-þing þer-mid no paistow me.
Oft þou hast y-herd in speche
Þat we no schal no man biseche,
Ac men schul biseche wimen
In the feirest maner þat þai can,
& fond to speden ȝif þai may
Boþe bi niȝtes and bi day.’
Of his swouning he vpros þo;
Þe maiden him tok in armes to.
Felice seyd to Gij, ‘þou dost folie,
Þatow wilt for mi loue dye;
Schal y do mi fader of-sende?
I schal him telle word & ende,
Þat tow dost me litel worþschipe,
When þou me desirest to schenschipe;
In his court he schal deme þe,
& al to-lime, to queme me.’
Gij answerd anon þer-to,
‘God ȝeue þat it wer y-do,
Þat of mi deþ þou haddest wite!
Of mi liif is me bot lite;
Redi ich am it to vnder-fong,
Be it wiþ riȝt, be it wiþ wrong.’
‘God ȝeue þat it wer y-do,
38
Of mi liif is me bot lite;
Redi ich am it to vnder-fong,
Be it wiþ riȝt, be it wiþ wrong.’
Felice hadde of him gret rewþe:
‘Gij,’ quod [sche], ‘þou louest me in trewþe;
Al to michel þou art afoild,
Now þi blod it is acoild.
Ac o thing y grant þe;
More no miȝtow asky me:
Þer nis leuedi, no maiden non,
In þis cuntre so wide so man may gon,
& tow louedest hir astow dost me
Þat sche no wold grant hir loue to þe.’
Gij seyd to Felice, ‘now lete þis be;
‘Gij,’ quod [sche], ‘þou louest me in trewþe;
Al to michel þou art afoild,
Now þi blod it is acoild.
Ac o thing y grant þe;
More no miȝtow asky me:
Þer nis leuedi, no maiden non,
In þis cuntre so wide so man may gon,
& tow louedest hir astow dost me
Þat sche no wold grant hir loue to þe.’
Now me þenke þou scornnest me.
Nis me nouȝt iuel anouȝ y-diȝt,
When þou wilt of me no-wiȝt?
Now a fole ich-il be
& mi witt chaunge for þe!’
‘Gij,’ seyd Felice, ‘now vnder-stond:
For now nil y noþing wond;
& þei y say þe al mi wille,
No hold it for non vn-skille:
No grome louen y no may
Fort he be kniȝt forsoþ to say,
Feir & beld to tellen by,
S[t]rong in armes & hardi;
& when þou hast armes vnder-fong,
& ichaue it vnder-stonde,
Þan schaltow haue þe loue of me,
Ȝif þow be swiche as y telle þe.’
40
When Gij herd þat tiding,
For ioie his hert gan to spring;
At hir he tok leue anon,
In-to the castel he gan to gon;
Al so swiþe as he it miȝt do,
In-to the court he gan to go:
Of euerich day him þought ten
Fort he seye his lemen.
& when he feld him hole & fere,
He went to court wiþ glad chere;
Michel ioie wiþ him þai made,
& alle þai wer bliþe & glade.
For ioie his hert gan to spring;
At hir he tok leue anon,
In-to the castel he gan to gon;
Al so swiþe as he it miȝt do,
In-to the court he gan to go:
Of euerich day him þought ten
Fort he seye his lemen.
& when he feld him hole & fere,
He went to court wiþ glad chere;
Michel ioie wiþ him þai made,
& alle þai wer bliþe & glade.
To þerl þan went Gij,
& gret þat kniȝt hardi,
& seyd, ‘sir, þine armes ich ax;
Ȝif ich am þer to y-wax,
Ich am redi hem to fong,
& þe to serue wiþ-outen wrong.’
Þerl answerd, & seyd þo,
‘Bleþeliche, Gij, seþþe þou wilt so.’
& gret þat kniȝt hardi,
& seyd, ‘sir, þine armes ich ax;
Ȝif ich am þer to y-wax,
Ich am redi hem to fong,
& þe to serue wiþ-outen wrong.’
Þerl answerd, & seyd þo,
‘Bleþeliche, Gij, seþþe þou wilt so.’
Þerl dede anon aparaile
Gyes dobing wiþ-outen feyle;
Wel richelich he dubbed Gij,
& wiþ him felawes tventi,
Þat al barouns sones were
(For Gyes loue he dubbed hem þere),
Þat wiþ þerl Rohaud hadde ben long,
In his seruise armes to vnder-fong.
Gyes dobing wiþ-outen feyle;
Wel richelich he dubbed Gij,
& wiþ him felawes tventi,
Þat al barouns sones were
(For Gyes loue he dubbed hem þere),
Þat wiþ þerl Rohaud hadde ben long,
In his seruise armes to vnder-fong.
It was at þe holy trinite,
Þerl dubbed sir Gij þe fre,
& wiþ him tventi god gomis,
Kniȝtes and riche baroun sonis.
Of cloth of Tars & riche cendel
Was he[r] dobbeing euerich a del;
Þe panis al of fow & griis,
Þe mantels weren of michel priis,
Wiþ riche armour & gode stedes,
Þe best þat wer in lond at nedis.
Alder-best was Gij y-diȝt,
Þei he wer an emperour sone, apliȝt:
So richeliche dobbed was he,
Nas no swiche in þis cuntre;
Wiþ riche stedes wele erninde,
Palfreys, coursours wele bereinde.
No was þer noiþer sweyn no knaue,
Þat ouȝt failed þat he schuld haue.
Þerl dubbed sir Gij þe fre,
& wiþ him tventi god gomis,
Kniȝtes and riche baroun sonis.
Of cloth of Tars & riche cendel
Was he[r] dobbeing euerich a del;
42
Þe mantels weren of michel priis,
Wiþ riche armour & gode stedes,
Þe best þat wer in lond at nedis.
Alder-best was Gij y-diȝt,
Þei he wer an emperour sone, apliȝt:
So richeliche dobbed was he,
Nas no swiche in þis cuntre;
Wiþ riche stedes wele erninde,
Palfreys, coursours wele bereinde.
No was þer noiþer sweyn no knaue,
Þat ouȝt failed þat he schuld haue.
Now is sir Gij dobbed to kniȝt;
Feir he was and michel of miȝt.
To Felice went sir Gij,
& gret hir wel curteyslie,
& seyd, ‘ichaue don astow seydest me to,
For þe ichaue suffred miche wo:
Feir he was and michel of miȝt.
To Felice went sir Gij,
& gret hir wel curteyslie,
& seyd, ‘ichaue don astow seydest me to,
For þe ichaue suffred miche wo:
Arme for þe ichaue vnder-fong,
Þe to se me þouȝt long.
Þou art me boþe leue & dere,
Ich am y-comen þi wille to here.’
Þe to se me þouȝt long.
Þou art me boþe leue & dere,
Ich am y-comen þi wille to here.’
‘Gij,’ seyd Felice, ‘heye þe nouȝt:
Ȝete hastow no þing of armes y-wrouȝt.
No artow þe better neuer a del
Þan þou wer ere, y say þe wel,
Bot on þatow [hast] newe dobing,
& art cleped kniȝt wiþ-outen lesing;
Bot it be þurch þi miȝt,
Þou no miȝt chalang loue þurch riȝt.’
Ȝete hastow no þing of armes y-wrouȝt.
No artow þe better neuer a del
Þan þou wer ere, y say þe wel,
Bot on þatow [hast] newe dobing,
& art cleped kniȝt wiþ-outen lesing;
44
Þou no miȝt chalang loue þurch riȝt.’
When Gij herd Felice so speke,
He tok his leue and gan out reke;
At hir leue he tok anon,
& to his fader he gan to gon,
& seyd, ‘fader, vnder-stond me:
Icham newe dobbed as ȝe may se,
Ouer þe se ichil now fare
To win priis & los þare.’
His fader him answerd sone,
‘Sone, god leue þe wele to done!
& als michel as þe nede be,
Sone, schaltow haue wiþ þe.’
He tok his leue and gan out reke;
At hir leue he tok anon,
& to his fader he gan to gon,
& seyd, ‘fader, vnder-stond me:
Icham newe dobbed as ȝe may se,
Ouer þe se ichil now fare
To win priis & los þare.’
His fader him answerd sone,
‘Sone, god leue þe wele to done!
& als michel as þe nede be,
Sone, schaltow haue wiþ þe.’
Suward cleped Herhaud to him,
& seyd, ‘Herhaud, frende min,
Wiþ Gi mi sone schaltow wende;
In gode stede mot ȝe lende.
Þou schalt kepe mi sone Gij,
For he is mi sone & tow mi norri.
& seyd, ‘Herhaud, frende min,
Wiþ Gi mi sone schaltow wende;
In gode stede mot ȝe lende.
Þou schalt kepe mi sone Gij,
For he is mi sone & tow mi norri.
Loke, Herhaud, þat tow him kepe;
& þine felawes þat ben ȝepe,
Boþe Torold & sir Vrri,
On ȝou y trust sikerli;
& wiþ Herhaud schul ȝe go
To kepe mi sone from care & wo.’
& hii answerd sone anon,
‘Hastiliche, sir, wil we wiþ him gon.’
Þai weren boþe strong kniȝtes,
Bold and hardi in ich fiȝtes.
Gij tok wiþ him what he wold
Boþe of siluer & of gold.
To þe se þai ben now y-come,
& seyled ouer atte frome.
Þai comen in-to Normondye,
Knight-schippe þai sechen on heye;
In Ron Gij takeþ his herberwe
Wiþ þe richest man of þe borwe;
Mete & drink þai hadde anouȝ,
Nas þer non þat it wiþ-drouȝ.
& þine felawes þat ben ȝepe,
Boþe Torold & sir Vrri,
On ȝou y trust sikerli;
& wiþ Herhaud schul ȝe go
To kepe mi sone from care & wo.’
& hii answerd sone anon,
‘Hastiliche, sir, wil we wiþ him gon.’
Þai weren boþe strong kniȝtes,
Bold and hardi in ich fiȝtes.
Gij tok wiþ him what he wold
Boþe of siluer & of gold.
46
& seyled ouer atte frome.
Þai comen in-to Normondye,
Knight-schippe þai sechen on heye;
In Ron Gij takeþ his herberwe
Wiþ þe richest man of þe borwe;
Mete & drink þai hadde anouȝ,
Nas þer non þat it wiþ-drouȝ.
Sir Gij his ost cleped him to,
& him bi-gan to frein þo,
& asked him wher þe turnament schuld be,
So mani scheldes þan seye he.
His ost seyd, ‘sir, wite ȝe nouȝt
Of þis turnament þat is biþouȝt?’
‘No,’ seyd Gij, ‘bi mine wite,
Y no herd þer-of neuer ȝete.’
His ost him answerd snelle,
‘Of þat turnament y schal ȝou telle:
It schal be for a maiden of pris,
Þemperours douhter sche is;
A turnament he haþ don grede,
A swiþe michel & vn-rede.
Þer nis no kniȝt in Speyne,
Al to þe se of Breteyne,
Þat ouȝt y-told wiþ be,
Þer men schal his miȝt se.
He þat best doþ þat day,
Þer he schal winne þat play.
Of euerich londe þider com kniȝtes,
Þat strong ben & bold in fiȝtes;
For who that is gode & snelle,
As ichaue herd oþer men telle,
Who þat þer be of mest miȝt,
Grete worþschipe he winneþ, apliȝt.
& him bi-gan to frein þo,
& asked him wher þe turnament schuld be,
So mani scheldes þan seye he.
His ost seyd, ‘sir, wite ȝe nouȝt
Of þis turnament þat is biþouȝt?’
‘No,’ seyd Gij, ‘bi mine wite,
Y no herd þer-of neuer ȝete.’
His ost him answerd snelle,
‘Of þat turnament y schal ȝou telle:
It schal be for a maiden of pris,
Þemperours douhter sche is;
A turnament he haþ don grede,
A swiþe michel & vn-rede.
Þer nis no kniȝt in Speyne,
Al to þe se of Breteyne,
Þat ouȝt y-told wiþ be,
Þer men schal his miȝt se.
He þat best doþ þat day,
Þer he schal winne þat play.
Of euerich londe þider com kniȝtes,
Þat strong ben & bold in fiȝtes;
For who that is gode & snelle,
As ichaue herd oþer men telle,
Who þat þer be of mest miȝt,
Grete worþschipe he winneþ, apliȝt.
48
For þe maiden y spac of er,
Is þemperours douhter Reyner;
He schal bring to þe turment þat day
(Wele is him þat it winne may)
A ger-fauk þat is milke white
(To him nis nowhare his liche),
& a stede of gret bounte
(He no schuld be ȝouen for a cuntre).
& tvai grehoundes þat white ben
(Swiche no haþ men nowhare y-sen).
& who so winneþ þe turnament al
Bi aiþer half, þe priis have schal,
Þe gerfauk & þe gode stede
Boþe he schal haue to mede,
& þe tvay grehoundes þat gode beþ
He schal haue þat þer best deþ,
& þe maiden þat is so fre,
Bot he haue a fairer in his cuntre.’
Is þemperours douhter Reyner;
He schal bring to þe turment þat day
(Wele is him þat it winne may)
A ger-fauk þat is milke white
(To him nis nowhare his liche),
& a stede of gret bounte
(He no schuld be ȝouen for a cuntre).
& tvai grehoundes þat white ben
(Swiche no haþ men nowhare y-sen).
& who so winneþ þe turnament al
Bi aiþer half, þe priis have schal,
Þe gerfauk & þe gode stede
Boþe he schal haue to mede,
& þe tvay grehoundes þat gode beþ
He schal haue þat þer best deþ,
& þe maiden þat is so fre,
Bot he haue a fairer in his cuntre.’
When sir Gij herd þat tiding,
Glad he was wiþ-outen lesing;
Sir Gij seyd to his fere,
‘In gode time come we here:
To morwe, so sone so it is day,
We wil wenden in our way.’
Sir [Gij] his ost a palfrey ȝaf þo,
For þe tiding he teld him to.
Anon amorwe wel erliche
Þai don hem in her wai sikerliche.
Glad he was wiþ-outen lesing;
Sir Gij seyd to his fere,
‘In gode time come we here:
To morwe, so sone so it is day,
We wil wenden in our way.’
Sir [Gij] his ost a palfrey ȝaf þo,
For þe tiding he teld him to.
Anon amorwe wel erliche
Þai don hem in her wai sikerliche.
Of rideing wil þai neuer stent
To þai com to þe turnament.
& when þai wer þider y-come,
Þai seye þer mani douȝti gome:
Bi feldes & bi riuers ridinde
Mani a kniȝt þai seye cominde.
& when þai were þider y-come,
To þe turnament þai went al & some;
Out of þe rengge þai gun hem diȝt,
Þe barouns þat were of miche miȝt.
Þan oxed anon sir Gij
To þe barouns þat oned him bi:
‘What is he, þat ich kniȝt,
Þat out of þe renge haþ him diȝt,
Wiþ þo armes briþt & schene?’
Hii answerd anon: ‘y wene,
It is a kniȝt of miche priis,
Douhti he is bi Seyn Deniis;
Out of þe rengge he haþ him diȝt,
Ȝif he miȝt finden ani kniȝt
Þat wiþ him wald iusti;
Þer-to he makeþ him redi.’
Oȝaines sir Gij þer come Gayer,
To iuste wiþ him he drouȝ him ner;
He rode to him as a gode kniȝt,
He semed a man of miche miȝt.
To þai com to þe turnament.
& when þai wer þider y-come,
Þai seye þer mani douȝti gome:
Bi feldes & bi riuers ridinde
Mani a kniȝt þai seye cominde.
50
To þe turnament þai went al & some;
Out of þe rengge þai gun hem diȝt,
Þe barouns þat were of miche miȝt.
Þan oxed anon sir Gij
To þe barouns þat oned him bi:
‘What is he, þat ich kniȝt,
Þat out of þe renge haþ him diȝt,
Wiþ þo armes briþt & schene?’
Hii answerd anon: ‘y wene,
It is a kniȝt of miche priis,
Douhti he is bi Seyn Deniis;
Out of þe rengge he haþ him diȝt,
Ȝif he miȝt finden ani kniȝt
Þat wiþ him wald iusti;
Þer-to he makeþ him redi.’
Oȝaines sir Gij þer come Gayer,
To iuste wiþ him he drouȝ him ner;
He rode to him as a gode kniȝt,
He semed a man of miche miȝt.
Gaier smot sir Gij bifore
& þurch þe scheld him haþ i-bore;
Þe launce brak, þat was wele wrouȝt,
Þe hauberk was gode & failed nouȝt.
Gij afterward Gaier smot,
To grounde he feld him fot hot,
Þe stede toke bi the reyn,
& lepe vp wiþ gret meyn.
Now ginneþ þe turnamint:
Ich smit on oþer wel gode dint;
Þai smiten togider for soþ, y pliȝt,
Eueriche to nim oþer dede his miȝt.
Wel mani kniȝtes Gij wan þat day,
Of þe maistri he wan þat play;
So mani helmes he to-drof,
Þat mani man wonderd þer-of:
Sat he neuer so wel no so fast,
Þat he no feld him sone on hast.
Þe douke Otus of Pauie
To Gij he hadde envie;
Wiþ him he wald iusti,
It turned him to vilani.
Þe douke come prikiand on his stede
Þat certeyne was, and gode at nede,
& sir Gij on anoþer al-so;
Gode kniȝtes þai weren bo.
Gij þurch þe scholder him smot,
& feld him to grounde fot hot.
& þurch þe scheld him haþ i-bore;
Þe launce brak, þat was wele wrouȝt,
Þe hauberk was gode & failed nouȝt.
Gij afterward Gaier smot,
To grounde he feld him fot hot,
Þe stede toke bi the reyn,
& lepe vp wiþ gret meyn.
Now ginneþ þe turnamint:
Ich smit on oþer wel gode dint;
Þai smiten togider for soþ, y pliȝt,
Eueriche to nim oþer dede his miȝt.
Wel mani kniȝtes Gij wan þat day,
Of þe maistri he wan þat play;
52
Þat mani man wonderd þer-of:
Sat he neuer so wel no so fast,
Þat he no feld him sone on hast.
Þe douke Otus of Pauie
To Gij he hadde envie;
Wiþ him he wald iusti,
It turned him to vilani.
Þe douke come prikiand on his stede
Þat certeyne was, and gode at nede,
& sir Gij on anoþer al-so;
Gode kniȝtes þai weren bo.
Gij þurch þe scholder him smot,
& feld him to grounde fot hot.
Þe douke Reyner seye þat cas
Of Sessoine: wel modi he was.
He come als swiþe as he miȝt driue,
Gij to smite he heyed bliue,
& seyd to him: ‘in iuel stounde
Ȝaf þou þe douke Otous wounde.
To wroþer hele iuste þou wiþ him.
He is mi germain cosyn:
Icham þe douke Reyner þat to þe speke;
Icham y-comen him to awreke:
Turn þe and iuste wiþ me.’
‘Bleþeliche,’ quod Gij, ‘bi my leute.’
Of Sessoine: wel modi he was.
He come als swiþe as he miȝt driue,
Gij to smite he heyed bliue,
& seyd to him: ‘in iuel stounde
Ȝaf þou þe douke Otous wounde.
To wroþer hele iuste þou wiþ him.
He is mi germain cosyn:
Icham þe douke Reyner þat to þe speke;
Icham y-comen him to awreke:
Turn þe and iuste wiþ me.’
‘Bleþeliche,’ quod Gij, ‘bi my leute.’
Gij him turned & gan to smite;
He nold spare him bot lite;
He smot þe douke on þe scheld,
Þat it fleye in þe feld,
& bar þe douke Reyner saunfeil
Ouer & oue[r] his hors tayl.
Þe stede bi þe reyn he haþ y-nome,
Oȝain to þe douke he is y-come.
‘Here is þine hors, y ȝiue it te;
When ichaue nede, aquite it me!’
& wele he ȝalt him his while,
As gode kniȝt wiþ-outen gile;
I schal ȝou tel feir & wel
Hou he it ȝald him eueridel.
When þe douk Otus y-seye þis,
To-ȝaines Gij he come, y-wis:
‘Sir kniȝt,’ he seyd, ‘y prey þe,
Tel me þi name and whenne tow be.’
He nold spare him bot lite;
He smot þe douke on þe scheld,
Þat it fleye in þe feld,
& bar þe douke Reyner saunfeil
Ouer & oue[r] his hors tayl.
Þe stede bi þe reyn he haþ y-nome,
Oȝain to þe douke he is y-come.
‘Here is þine hors, y ȝiue it te;
When ichaue nede, aquite it me!’
54
As gode kniȝt wiþ-outen gile;
I schal ȝou tel feir & wel
Hou he it ȝald him eueridel.
When þe douk Otus y-seye þis,
To-ȝaines Gij he come, y-wis:
‘Sir kniȝt,’ he seyd, ‘y prey þe,
Tel me þi name and whenne tow be.’
Sir Gij answerd wel freliche,
‘Y schal þe tel ful bleþeliche:
Gij of Warwike men clepeþ me;
Ich was y-born in þat cuntre.’
Þe douk Lowayn cam wiþ þis,
A gode spere in his hond, y-wis;
To Gij he smot wiþ gret hete,
& Gij oȝain to him smite:
To-gider so hard gun þai driue,
Þat her speres gan al to-riue.
Þai smiten togider hard & wel
Wiþ her swerdes of grounden stiel
Þurch scheld & hauberk also:
Strong fiȝt was bi-tven hem to.
Wiþ that come Herhaud priking;
Þe douk he met coming,
& of his hors him haþ y-feld
Riȝt long streȝt in þe feld.
Wiþ þat come þe douke Gaudiner,
& mett wiþ sir Torold þer;
Sir Torold smot him on þe scheld,
Þat he feld him in the feld;
He semed kniȝt gode & hardi.
Wiþ þat come prikeing sir Urri;
Þan gan þe fiȝt to ben aferd;
Of swiche ne haue ȝe nouȝt y-herd,
No ich it nouȝt telle no miȝt,
For long dueling, y ȝou pliȝt,
No no clerk vnder sonne,
Þat þe soþe ȝou telle conne;
Bot al þe folk of þat cuntre
Seyd þat Gij þe best miȝt be.
& þat oþer day y-same
Sir Gij wan þat ich game;
& þer-fore, on euerich a side,
On him was leyd al þe pride.
So opon þe þridde day
Þe kniȝtes tok her leue and went oway.
‘Y schal þe tel ful bleþeliche:
Gij of Warwike men clepeþ me;
Ich was y-born in þat cuntre.’
Þe douk Lowayn cam wiþ þis,
A gode spere in his hond, y-wis;
To Gij he smot wiþ gret hete,
& Gij oȝain to him smite:
To-gider so hard gun þai driue,
Þat her speres gan al to-riue.
Þai smiten togider hard & wel
Wiþ her swerdes of grounden stiel
Þurch scheld & hauberk also:
Strong fiȝt was bi-tven hem to.
Wiþ that come Herhaud priking;
Þe douk he met coming,
& of his hors him haþ y-feld
Riȝt long streȝt in þe feld.
Wiþ þat come þe douke Gaudiner,
& mett wiþ sir Torold þer;
Sir Torold smot him on þe scheld,
Þat he feld him in the feld;
He semed kniȝt gode & hardi.
Wiþ þat come prikeing sir Urri;
Þan gan þe fiȝt to ben aferd;
Of swiche ne haue ȝe nouȝt y-herd,
No ich it nouȝt telle no miȝt,
For long dueling, y ȝou pliȝt,
56
Þat þe soþe ȝou telle conne;
Bot al þe folk of þat cuntre
Seyd þat Gij þe best miȝt be.
& þat oþer day y-same
Sir Gij wan þat ich game;
& þer-fore, on euerich a side,
On him was leyd al þe pride.
So opon þe þridde day
Þe kniȝtes tok her leue and went oway.
Wiþ þis come þe douk prikeing,
A gode kniȝt and wele doing.
‘Lordinges,’ he seyd, ‘herkeneþ to me:
Ichil ȝou telle hou it schal be;
& who so þer-oȝain sey ouȝt,
Of bateyl no þarf him feyl nouȝt.’
Þai seyden al couinliche,
Þe dome was ȝouen sikerliche;
Þe gerfauk and þe gode stede,
Þe grehoundes schul haue to mede
Gij of Warwike, þe noble kniȝt,
For best nov doand in þis fiȝt.
A gode kniȝt and wele doing.
‘Lordinges,’ he seyd, ‘herkeneþ to me:
Ichil ȝou telle hou it schal be;
& who so þer-oȝain sey ouȝt,
Of bateyl no þarf him feyl nouȝt.’
Þai seyden al couinliche,
Þe dome was ȝouen sikerliche;
Þe gerfauk and þe gode stede,
Þe grehoundes schul haue to mede
Gij of Warwike, þe noble kniȝt,
For best nov doand in þis fiȝt.
Þus þe kniȝtes ben departed y-wis;
Sir Gij to jn y-comen is,
& dede him vnarmi:
Of turnament he was weri.
Sir Gij to jn y-comen is,
& dede him vnarmi:
Of turnament he was weri.
Wiþ þat come a seriant prikeinde,
Gentil he was & wele spekeinde;
To sir Gyes in he is y-come,
& him he gret atte frome:
‘Thou art y-chesen chef & pris
Of al þis cuntre for soþe y-wis;
For þou hast y-won þis turnament,
Y make þe here þis present
Fram þe maiden Blancheflour,
Þat is mi lordes douhter þemperour:
Þe gerfauk & þe stede also,
& þe tvay grehoundes þer-to;
& ȝete hir loue wiþ þan,
Bot þou haue a fairer leman.
Sche þat is þe tour wiþ-inne,
To day þou miȝt hir loue winne.’
Wel curteysliche answerd sir Gij:
Gentil he was & wele spekeinde;
To sir Gyes in he is y-come,
& him he gret atte frome:
58
Of al þis cuntre for soþe y-wis;
For þou hast y-won þis turnament,
Y make þe here þis present
Fram þe maiden Blancheflour,
Þat is mi lordes douhter þemperour:
Þe gerfauk & þe stede also,
& þe tvay grehoundes þer-to;
& ȝete hir loue wiþ þan,
Bot þou haue a fairer leman.
Sche þat is þe tour wiþ-inne,
To day þou miȝt hir loue winne.’
‘Sir,’ he seyd, ‘gramerci;
Ich vnder-fong þis present,
& þonke hir þat it hider sent;
Hir druerie ich vnder-fong,
Hir kniȝt to [be] wiþouten wrong.
Leue fere,’ he seyd, ‘herken to me,
What þat y schal telle þe:
Þis armes ichil the ȝiue,
& make riche while þou liue;
& al þine feren þat be wiþ þe
Riche ȝiftes schullen hauen of me,
& do ich-il ȝou grete honour
For þat maidens loue Blauncheflour.’
‘Gramerci, sir Gij,’ seyd he;
‘For armes come y nouȝt to þe,
Ac to þe maiden ichil wende,
& tel hir boþe ord & ende,
Blauncheflour, þat swete thing,
Ichil hir tel gode tiding.’
Þe seriant goþ & lete Gij þare,
Þat liueþ in ioie and nouȝt in care.
Tvay swaines Gij clepeþ him to,
Anon he seyd to hem bo:
‘This present ȝe schullen vnderfong,
& wende þer-wiþ into Inglond,
& present þer-wiþ bi mi word
Rohaut, mi kinde lord.’
& when þai herd what he hem hete,
In her way þai dede hem skete,
& went þe[r]wiþ in-to Inglond,
& þerl Rohaut þer þai fond.
Þe gerfauk and þe gode stede,
Þe tvai grehoundes wiþ hem ȝede;
Þerl þai made þer-wiþ present,
Þat sir Gij wan in turnament.
& anon þai him teld
Gij was þe best in þe feld,
& þat he was best y-teld bi
Of al þe kniȝtes of Normandi.
Þat liueþ in ioie and nouȝt in care.
60
Anon he seyd to hem bo:
‘This present ȝe schullen vnderfong,
& wende þer-wiþ into Inglond,
& present þer-wiþ bi mi word
Rohaut, mi kinde lord.’
& when þai herd what he hem hete,
In her way þai dede hem skete,
& went þe[r]wiþ in-to Inglond,
& þerl Rohaut þer þai fond.
Þe gerfauk and þe gode stede,
Þe tvai grehoundes wiþ hem ȝede;
Þerl þai made þer-wiþ present,
Þat sir Gij wan in turnament.
& anon þai him teld
Gij was þe best in þe feld,
& þat he was best y-teld bi
Of al þe kniȝtes of Normandi.
Þerl þer-of wel glad he was,
& þonked god of þat gras;
& Felice þe feir dede al-so,
When þe tiding come hir to;
And al his frendes eld and ȝing
Glad were of þat tiding.
& þonked god of þat gras;
& Felice þe feir dede al-so,
When þe tiding come hir to;
And al his frendes eld and ȝing
Glad were of þat tiding.
Nov Gij wendeþ in-to fer lond,
More of auentours for to fond;
Forþ he went in-to Speyne,
& after in-to Almeyne.
Þer nas noiþer turnament no burdis,
Þat Gij þer-of no wan þe priis.
He was out al þat ȝer
In mani londes fer & ner,
And best is teld vnder sunne,
& mest frendes haþ y-wonne.
More of auentours for to fond;
Forþ he went in-to Speyne,
& after in-to Almeyne.
Þer nas noiþer turnament no burdis,
Þat Gij þer-of no wan þe priis.
He was out al þat ȝer
In mani londes fer & ner,
62
& mest frendes haþ y-wonne.
Þan seyd Herhaud to sir Gij
(His maister he was & kniȝt hardi):
‘In-to Inglond we schul nov go,
So wele so we may it do,
For we han ouer al y-be,
Þe pris y-wonne in euerich cuntre.’
Gij seyd, ‘maister, y grant wel;
At þi wil be it eueridel.’
‘Now we han ben her & tar,
Þe pris y-wonne euer ay-war;
To king Aþelston þou schalt aqueynt þe
Of Inglond þat is so fre,
& wiþ þe barouns also,
So wele þou may it nov do.
(His maister he was & kniȝt hardi):
‘In-to Inglond we schul nov go,
So wele so we may it do,
For we han ouer al y-be,
Þe pris y-wonne in euerich cuntre.’
Gij seyd, ‘maister, y grant wel;
At þi wil be it eueridel.’
‘Now we han ben her & tar,
Þe pris y-wonne euer ay-war;
To king Aþelston þou schalt aqueynt þe
Of Inglond þat is so fre,
& wiþ þe barouns also,
So wele þou may it nov do.
Gij seyd, ‘tomorwe, when it is day,
Wende we wil in our way.’
& when þe day is y-come,
In her way þai ben y-nome;
Ouer se þai gan wende
In Inglond þai gun lende.
Anon þai com to king Athelston,
Wel fair he hem vnder-fenge anon;
Wiþ erls & barouns aqueynt him dede
Þat riche ȝiftes him bede.
Wende we wil in our way.’
& when þe day is y-come,
In her way þai ben y-nome;
Ouer se þai gan wende
In Inglond þai gun lende.
Anon þai com to king Athelston,
Wel fair he hem vnder-fenge anon;
Wiþ erls & barouns aqueynt him dede
Þat riche ȝiftes him bede.
Nov is Gij to Warwike fare;
Þerl Rohaut he fint þare.
He welcomed him & his fere,
For he was him leue & dere,
& kist him wel sweteliche,
& of his present þonked him miche.
To his leman he is y-come,
& euen forþ hir-self sche haþ him nome.
Þerl Rohaut he fint þare.
He welcomed him & his fere,
For he was him leue & dere,
& kist him wel sweteliche,
& of his present þonked him miche.
64
& euen forþ hir-self sche haþ him nome.
Glad was his fader for him,
Sabin his moder & al his kin,
& al þe folk of þat cuntre
Bliþe were þai miȝt him se.
Sabin his moder & al his kin,
& al þe folk of þat cuntre
Bliþe were þai miȝt him se.
To Felice þan sir Gij is go;
Sweteliche he seyd hir to:
‘Leman,’ he seyd, ‘wele þou be,
Mi liif ichaue for loue of þe;
Ded ich were ȝif þou nere,
Mi bodi destrud and leyd on bere.
When þou þi wille hadde seyd to me,
Armes y fenge for loue of [þe];
& when ich hadde armes take,
Þou seyd þou noldest me for-sake,
Sweteliche he seyd hir to:
‘Leman,’ he seyd, ‘wele þou be,
Mi liif ichaue for loue of þe;
Ded ich were ȝif þou nere,
Mi bodi destrud and leyd on bere.
When þou þi wille hadde seyd to me,
Armes y fenge for loue of [þe];
& when ich hadde armes take,
Þou seyd þou noldest me for-sake,
Þou noldest þi loue werne to me;
& nov ich am her comen to þe:
Dere leman, y prey þe
Þi wille þatow tel to me.’
Felice answerd swiþe an heye,
& nov ich am her comen to þe:
Dere leman, y prey þe
Þi wille þatow tel to me.’
‘No rape þe nouȝt so, sir Gij;
Ȝete nartow nouȝt y-preysed so,
Þat me ne may finde oþer mo;
Orped þou art and of grete miȝt,
Gode kniȝt & ardi in fiȝt:
& ȝif ich þe hadde mi loue y-ȝeue,
To welden it while þat y liue,
Sleuþe þe schuld ouercome:
Namore wostow of armes loue,
No comen in turnament no in fiȝt.
So amerous þou were anon riȝt.
66
& miche agilt oȝaines te,
& ich þi manschip schuld schone,
Wit me euer more to wone.
Gij,’ quod Felice, ‘forhele y nille,
Ac al þe soþe ichil þe telle:
Þou art me leuest of oþer alle,
For þi ‘leman’ ichil the calle;
Ac mi loue no schaltow haue
For noþing þatow may craue,
Er þou perles holden be
& best doand in þis cuntre,
Þat nowhar bi lond no w[e]ter
No be founde þi beter;
& when þou art hold best doinde
In armes þat animan mai finde,
Þat vnder heuen þi beter no be,
Mi loue ichil þan graunti þe.’
When Gij herd Felice speke so,
Wel depe he gan to sike þo:
‘Now ichot, þou scornest me:
Swiche answer ichaue of þe,
Þat y schuld be þe best y-teld,
Þat be fiȝtand wiþ spere & scheld.
Swiche no miȝt y neuer werþe
To be þe best on þis erþe;
Into oþer cuntres ichil go,
For þi loue to wirche me wo.
For dout of deþ nil y nouȝt fle:
Ȝif y dye, it is for þe.’
Sir Gij of hir toke his leue,
& kist hir wiþ wepeand eye.
68
Þer nil he no lenger duelle.
To þerl he wil gon,
& tak his leue sone anon.
Gij him com to court þore,
& aliȝt atte halle dore;
& to þerl he went þo,
& schewed him wat he wald do.
‘Sir erl,’ quod Gij, ‘y bid þe,
Leue to wende ȝif þou me.
Ouer þe se ichil now wende;
God to gode hauen me sende!
Time it is þat ich fond
To winne priis in vncouþe lond;
Al þe glader ȝe mow be
Ȝif we of armes preised be.
& ȝif þou hast folk of grete miȝt,
It is te gret worþschip, y pliȝt,
For al þe more men schal þe dout
Wiþ-in þi lond & eke wiþ-out.’
& aliȝt atte halle dore;
& to þerl he went þo,
& schewed him wat he wald do.
‘Sir erl,’ quod Gij, ‘y bid þe,
Leue to wende ȝif þou me.
Ouer þe se ichil now wende;
God to gode hauen me sende!
Time it is þat ich fond
To winne priis in vncouþe lond;
Al þe glader ȝe mow be
Ȝif we of armes preised be.
& ȝif þou hast folk of grete miȝt,
It is te gret worþschip, y pliȝt,
For al þe more men schal þe dout
Wiþ-in þi lond & eke wiþ-out.’
‘Sir Gij,’ quod þerl þo,
‘Faileþ þe out þat y mai do?
Gold oþer siluer, oþer heye stede?
To passe þe se hastow no nede.
Sir Gij,’ he seyd, ‘lete ben al þis,
Anouȝ þe worþ þat þe nede is;
& to pleyn vnder þe linde,
Þe hert to chacen and þe hinde:
Of al þinges þou schalt haue plente.
Bileue at hom, sir Gi, wiþ me.
We schul wende boþe y-fere
To play bi wode & bi riuer;
Al bi times þou miȝt wende;
Ȝete no hastow ben here a moneþ to þende.’
‘Faileþ þe out þat y mai do?
Gold oþer siluer, oþer heye stede?
To passe þe se hastow no nede.
Sir Gij,’ he seyd, ‘lete ben al þis,
Anouȝ þe worþ þat þe nede is;
& to pleyn vnder þe linde,
Þe hert to chacen and þe hinde:
Of al þinges þou schalt haue plente.
Bileue at hom, sir Gi, wiþ me.
We schul wende boþe y-fere
To play bi wode & bi riuer;
Al bi times þou miȝt wende;
Ȝete no hastow ben here a moneþ to þende.’
‘Miche þank, sir,’ quod Gij þo;
‘For soþe so no may [y] nouȝt do.’
His leue he toke wiþ-outen more;
Þerl it of-þouȝt swiþe sore.
He goþ him to his fader þo,
Þat for his wending was ful wo:
‘Gon, fader,’ quod he, ‘ich-ille;
For noþing leten y nille;
Ȝif me leue, icham al ȝare
Ouer þe se for to fare,
To winne pris and los al-so,
So ȝong man schal in ȝouþe do.
Long to bileuen in þis cunt[r]e
Nis it nouȝt worþ for me;
For ȝong man þat is miȝti
In his ȝouþe schal fondi,
So þat men may him in erþe preyse,
And in eld liue in mirþe & ayse.
Þer-whiles icham ȝong & liȝt,
Los ichil winne bi mi miȝt.’
‘For soþe so no may [y] nouȝt do.’
70
Þerl it of-þouȝt swiþe sore.
He goþ him to his fader þo,
Þat for his wending was ful wo:
‘Gon, fader,’ quod he, ‘ich-ille;
For noþing leten y nille;
Ȝif me leue, icham al ȝare
Ouer þe se for to fare,
To winne pris and los al-so,
So ȝong man schal in ȝouþe do.
Long to bileuen in þis cunt[r]e
Nis it nouȝt worþ for me;
For ȝong man þat is miȝti
In his ȝouþe schal fondi,
So þat men may him in erþe preyse,
And in eld liue in mirþe & ayse.
Þer-whiles icham ȝong & liȝt,
Los ichil winne bi mi miȝt.’
‘Leue sone,’ he seyd, ‘leue þat þouȝt:
Bi mi wil schaltow wende nouȝt.
Þou schalt bileue here wiþ me;
Al þe bliþer we wille be.’
‘Leue sone,’ his moder him sede,
‘Þou do bi þi faders rede:
Soiourne wiþ ous to ȝer mo,
Y rede þe, sone, þat it be so.
Anoþer ȝer þou miȝt ouer fare.
Bot þou bileue, y dye for care,
For we ne haue sonis no mo:
Ȝif we þe schul now for-go,
Glad no worþ we neuer mo,
For sorwe schul ous selue slo.’
Bi mi wil schaltow wende nouȝt.
Þou schalt bileue here wiþ me;
Al þe bliþer we wille be.’
‘Leue sone,’ his moder him sede,
‘Þou do bi þi faders rede:
Soiourne wiþ ous to ȝer mo,
Y rede þe, sone, þat it be so.
Anoþer ȝer þou miȝt ouer fare.
Bot þou bileue, y dye for care,
For we ne haue sonis no mo:
Ȝif we þe schul now for-go,
Glad no worþ we neuer mo,
For sorwe schul ous selue slo.’
Gij answerd wiþ þat speche,
‘Fader, god y þe biteche,
& mi leue moder al-so;
For hastiliche ichil nov go.’
‘Fader, god y þe biteche,
& mi leue moder al-so;
For hastiliche ichil nov go.’
72
Þat for hym hadde miche care.
To þe se he is y-come,
Gode winde he haþ atte frome.
Y-comen he is in-to Normundye,
Kniȝtschip he schewed on hye.
Þennes he went in-to Speyne;
Nis turnament non in-to Almeyne,
Þat Gij no haþ þer-at y-be,
& michel y-preised so is he.
Þennes to Lombardye he went;
Þer ben þe iustes & þe turnament,
Þer he dede him preyse miche,
Þe Lombardes him loued inliche;
He was large, curteys, & fre:
Of miche miȝt so was he.
Of an vnsele y may ȝou telle,
& ȝe wil a stounde duelle:
As he cam fram a turnament
Þat was biside Bonevent,
In þe bodi wounded he was:
Þat sore him greued no wonder it nas.
& ȝe wil a stounde duelle:
As he cam fram a turnament
Þat was biside Bonevent,
In þe bodi wounded he was:
Þat sore him greued no wonder it nas.
Þan bithouȝt him þe douk Otoun,
Þat vnwrast was, & feloun,
Þat he wald ben awreke þat day
Of Gij of Warwike, ȝif he may;
For he him wounded in a turnament,
As ichaue herd telle verrament;
Þer-fore Gij him was swiþe loþ,
& wel depe he swore his oþ
Þat he of him awreke wald be
Er þan he wende out of þat cuntre.
When þe douke Otus y-seye þat cas,
Þat vnwrast was, & feloun,
Þat he wald ben awreke þat day
Of Gij of Warwike, ȝif he may;
For he him wounded in a turnament,
As ichaue herd telle verrament;
Þer-fore Gij him was swiþe loþ,
& wel depe he swore his oþ
Þat he of him awreke wald be
Er þan he wende out of þat cuntre.
Þat Gij so sore wounded was,
Þerl Lambard he cleped to him
(A kniȝt he was stout & grim),
74
Þat were strong men and hardie.
On a dern stede he dede hem hide,
Þer as Gij schuld cum ride;
‘Lordinges,’ þan seyd þe douk Otoun,
‘Under-stond to mi resoun:
Mine men ȝe beþ & to me swore,
Omage ȝe schul me þer-fore.
Mine hest ȝe schul ful-fille,
Þat ich ȝou bid, wiþ gode wille.
Me to wreken ȝe schul go
Of a treytour þat is mi fo,
Þat is y-comen vp mi lond
(Wer he þenkeþ to bring me an hond),
Gij of Warwike þat wounded is
Wiþ a swerd þurch þe bodi y-wis.
On þe halidom ȝe schul me sweri:
In þe forest of Pleyns þat is so miri,
Þer ȝe schul ȝou al hide,
Þer Gij of Warwike schal cum ride:
His bodi oliue ȝe schul me bring,
And slen his feren eld & ȝing.
Y schal him in mi prisoun do;
Out no comeþ he neuer mo.
Wiþ sorwe and wo he schal þer ende:
Þennes no schal he neuer wende.’
‘Sir,’ þai seyd, ‘we schul go,
& al þine hest we schul do.’
Þai dede hem arme swiþe wel
Boþe in iren & in stiel;
Vnto þe pas þai wenten snelle,
& þer þai houed swiþe stille,
As Gij schuld cum sone.
No wist he nouȝt of þat tresone,
No of þat sorwe neuer the mo,
Þat him was comand to;
76
Al he for-les hem þere;
& his owhen liif he hadde for-lore,
No hadde goddes help ben bifore,
Þurch þe traitours þat were her fon,
Þat kept hem þere for to slon.
Now comeþ Gij soft rideing
Opon a mulet ambling.
His wounde him greueþ swiþe sore,
& smert him euer þe lenger þe more.
In pais he wende for to wende,
Ac þe traitours Lombardes vnhende,
Þe helmes þai seyen briȝt schine,
Þe stedes nyen, and togider whine.
‘God,’ quod Gij, ‘we ben y-nome!
Al we be ded þurch tresone.’
Sir Gij of þat mulet aliȝt,
& asked his stede, his armes briȝt,
& seyd to his felawes snelle,
‘Dere we schul our deþ selle.
Our deþ is now al bispeke,
Bot we ous manliche awreke;
Ich kepe him selue, seþþe it so is,
& ichil, while y liue, y-wis:
So dere so y may, ich wille
To þe treytours mi liif selle.’
Opon a mulet ambling.
His wounde him greueþ swiþe sore,
& smert him euer þe lenger þe more.
In pais he wende for to wende,
Ac þe traitours Lombardes vnhende,
Þe helmes þai seyen briȝt schine,
Þe stedes nyen, and togider whine.
‘God,’ quod Gij, ‘we ben y-nome!
Al we be ded þurch tresone.’
Sir Gij of þat mulet aliȝt,
& asked his stede, his armes briȝt,
& seyd to his felawes snelle,
‘Dere we schul our deþ selle.
Our deþ is now al bispeke,
Bot we ous manliche awreke;
Ich kepe him selue, seþþe it so is,
& ichil, while y liue, y-wis:
So dere so y may, ich wille
To þe treytours mi liif selle.’
‘Sir,’ seyd Herhaud þo,
‘For godes loue hennes þou go.
For þine loue we schul her dye,
& defende þis pas, y seye:
Leuer ous were her-on be ded,
Þan þou wer ded in our ferred.’
‘For godes loue hennes þou go.
For þine loue we schul her dye,
& defende þis pas, y seye:
Leuer ous were her-on be ded,
Þan þou wer ded in our ferred.’
Þan answerd Gij anon riȝt,
As gode kniȝt & ful of miȝt:
‘Ȝif ȝe dye, ichil al-so;
Nil ich neuer fram ȝou go!’
As gode kniȝt & ful of miȝt:
‘Ȝif ȝe dye, ichil al-so;
Nil ich neuer fram ȝou go!’
78
Wiþ þat come a Lombard ride,
A modi man & ful of pride.
‘Gij,’ quod he, ‘ȝeld þe anon!
Ȝe ben ded now euerichon;
To þe douke we han trewþe pliȝt
To bring him þi bodi þis niȝt.’
With þat ich word wel smert
Gij him smot vn-to þe hert;
No spard he for no drede,
Þat ded he feld him in þe mede.
‘Bi þe trewþe y schal mi leman ȝeld,
To day no schaltow þi trewþe held!’
Anoþer Lombard he smot anon,
Þurch þe bodi þe swerd gan gon:
‘No þou, treytour, no schalt me lede
To þe douke that is ful of qued;
To his presoun no worþ y for þe brouȝt.’
Herhaud smot anoþer and spared nouȝt
Þurch þe bodi his swerd glod,
Ded he fel wiþ-outen abod.
A modi man & ful of pride.
‘Gij,’ quod he, ‘ȝeld þe anon!
Ȝe ben ded now euerichon;
To þe douke we han trewþe pliȝt
To bring him þi bodi þis niȝt.’
With þat ich word wel smert
Gij him smot vn-to þe hert;
No spard he for no drede,
Þat ded he feld him in þe mede.
‘Bi þe trewþe y schal mi leman ȝeld,
To day no schaltow þi trewþe held!’
Anoþer Lombard he smot anon,
Þurch þe bodi þe swerd gan gon:
‘No þou, treytour, no schalt me lede
To þe douke that is ful of qued;
To his presoun no worþ y for þe brouȝt.’
Herhaud smot anoþer and spared nouȝt
Þurch þe bodi his swerd glod,
Ded he fel wiþ-outen abod.
Þan com Torald, a gode kniȝt,
Swiþe gode & hardi in fiȝt;
Wiþ a Lombard þer he mett,
& so wele his strok he sett
Þat his heued fram þe bodi flei;
He ȝede him laweliche neye.
Wiþ þat come Urri prikeinde
(A better kniȝt no miȝt man finde)
A Lombard he smot þo,
Þat þurch his bodi þe swerd gan go;
So he smot him, for soþ to say,
Þat ded he feld him in þe way.
Seþþe he seyd, ‘þurch no toun
Schal ȝe ous lede to no prisoun.
Than miȝt men se fiȝt aginne,
Heuedes cleue vnto þe chinne.
Euerich þat day þat Gij oftoke,
Sone anon his liif forsoke.
Sum he smot opon þe hode,
At þe girdel þe swerd astode;
And sum he smot þurch þe side,
Þat miȝt he neuer go no ride.
Was þer non that miȝt astond
Dint þat come of Gyes hond.
So miȝti strokes þer wer ȝiuen,
Þat strong schaftes al to-driuen;
No was þer non in þat ferrede
Þat of his liif him miȝt adrede.
Swiþe gode & hardi in fiȝt;
Wiþ a Lombard þer he mett,
& so wele his strok he sett
Þat his heued fram þe bodi flei;
He ȝede him laweliche neye.
Wiþ þat come Urri prikeinde
(A better kniȝt no miȝt man finde)
A Lombard he smot þo,
Þat þurch his bodi þe swerd gan go;
So he smot him, for soþ to say,
Þat ded he feld him in þe way.
Seþþe he seyd, ‘þurch no toun
Schal ȝe ous lede to no prisoun.
Than miȝt men se fiȝt aginne,
Heuedes cleue vnto þe chinne.
80
Sone anon his liif forsoke.
Sum he smot opon þe hode,
At þe girdel þe swerd astode;
And sum he smot þurch þe side,
Þat miȝt he neuer go no ride.
Was þer non that miȝt astond
Dint þat come of Gyes hond.
So miȝti strokes þer wer ȝiuen,
Þat strong schaftes al to-driuen;
No was þer non in þat ferrede
Þat of his liif him miȝt adrede.
Wiþ þat come ride þerl Lambard,
A sterne kniȝt and a Lombard;
Vrri anon he slouȝ þar,
It oþouȝt Gij þo he was war;
Wiþ þerl Lambard he wald iusti,
& awreke þe gode Vrri.
Wiþ swiche hete he smot him to,
His armour no was him worþ a slo;
Þurch out his hert þe launce he bar,
Adoun he feld him ded riȝt þar.
Wiþ þat him come forþ Hougoun,
Þat was þe doukes neve Otoun:
A kniȝt he was of gret miȝt,
Swiþe gode & hardi in fiȝt.
Torald he haþ aqueld;
Herhaud anon þat biheld.
When Herhaud y-seye þis,
Þat he doun fel & ded he is,
For his deþ he was sori:
Him to awreke he haþ gret hy.
Neuer ȝete so sori he no was,
To-ward Hugoun he made a ras,
Als a lyoun he heyed him fast,
Þat his prey wold haue on hast.
Þurch þe body he him smot
Wiþ gret strengþe, god ytot,
Þat biforn þe Lombardes alle
Of his hors ded he gan falle.
A sterne kniȝt and a Lombard;
Vrri anon he slouȝ þar,
It oþouȝt Gij þo he was war;
Wiþ þerl Lambard he wald iusti,
& awreke þe gode Vrri.
Wiþ swiche hete he smot him to,
His armour no was him worþ a slo;
Þurch out his hert þe launce he bar,
Adoun he feld him ded riȝt þar.
Wiþ þat him come forþ Hougoun,
Þat was þe doukes neve Otoun:
A kniȝt he was of gret miȝt,
Swiþe gode & hardi in fiȝt.
Torald he haþ aqueld;
Herhaud anon þat biheld.
When Herhaud y-seye þis,
Þat he doun fel & ded he is,
For his deþ he was sori:
Him to awreke he haþ gret hy.
Neuer ȝete so sori he no was,
To-ward Hugoun he made a ras,
Als a lyoun he heyed him fast,
Þat his prey wold haue on hast.
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Wiþ gret strengþe, god ytot,
Þat biforn þe Lombardes alle
Of his hors ded he gan falle.
When dan Gauter þat y-seye,
To Herhaud he stert wel an heye,
And wiþ his swerd he smot him so
Þat his hauberk rent ato;
Þurch his bodi þat swerd ȝede,
Al þai wende þat he wer ded.
To Herhaud he stert wel an heye,
And wiþ his swerd he smot him so
Þat his hauberk rent ato;
Þurch his bodi þat swerd ȝede,
Al þai wende þat he wer ded.
When Gij seye Herhaud y-feld,
To-hewen his hauberk & his scheld
(& of his hors feld he was,
As ded man lay on þe gras;
He seye þe blod þat cam him fro),
Wonder him þouȝt, & seyd þo:
‘Þou lording, to þe y sigge,
His deþ þou schalt wel sore abigge!
So mot ich euer word speke,
Mi maisters deþ ichil awreke,
& for a couward ich held þe:
Þou slouȝ him, & lete me be.
Bi him þat made sonne & mone,
Þou schalt it wite swiþe sone,
Þat tow schalt it biȝelp nouȝt
Þat he is to deþ y-brouȝt.’
To-hewen his hauberk & his scheld
(& of his hors feld he was,
As ded man lay on þe gras;
He seye þe blod þat cam him fro),
Wonder him þouȝt, & seyd þo:
‘Þou lording, to þe y sigge,
His deþ þou schalt wel sore abigge!
So mot ich euer word speke,
Mi maisters deþ ichil awreke,
& for a couward ich held þe:
Þou slouȝ him, & lete me be.
Bi him þat made sonne & mone,
Þou schalt it wite swiþe sone,
Þat tow schalt it biȝelp nouȝt
Þat he is to deþ y-brouȝt.’
Gij wiþ spors smot þe stede,
As a man þat hadde nede,
Þat fire vnder þe fet aros;
Nas þer non þat him agros.
Wiþ al his miȝt he smot him to,
Wel euen he clef his scheld þo,
Þurch his bodi þe swerd he þriste:
Þo at arst fiȝt him liste.
In þe sond he feld him doun,
& bede him Cristes malisoun,
For þat he wald Herhaud slen,
And lete him oliues ben.
As a man þat hadde nede,
Þat fire vnder þe fet aros;
Nas þer non þat him agros.
Wiþ al his miȝt he smot him to,
Wel euen he clef his scheld þo,
Þurch his bodi þe swerd he þriste:
Þo at arst fiȝt him liste.
In þe sond he feld him doun,
& bede him Cristes malisoun,
84
And lete him oliues ben.
Now is Gij wel hard bifalle,
Y-lorn he haþ his felawes alle;
So sori he is, he not what to do,
He no haþ no wiȝt to bimen him to.
Bot þre Lombard[es] oliue þer nere,
Opon Gij hastiliche þai were;
Þe tvay ben hole & sounde,
Þe þridde hadde þurch þe bodi a wounde.
Y-lorn he haþ his felawes alle;
So sori he is, he not what to do,
He no haþ no wiȝt to bimen him to.
Bot þre Lombard[es] oliue þer nere,
Opon Gij hastiliche þai were;
Þe tvay ben hole & sounde,
Þe þridde hadde þurch þe bodi a wounde.
Gij þat on wiþ his swerd rauȝt,
His heued of fleye wiþ þat drauȝt.
Þan com prikeing dan Gwissard,
A duhtti kniȝt and no couward.
His heued of fleye wiþ þat drauȝt.
Þan com prikeing dan Gwissard,
A duhtti kniȝt and no couward.
‘Gij,’ quod he, ‘ȝeld now þe!
It no may no noþer be:
On þe erþe liþe þi scheld to-dreued,
Nouȝt o pece is wiþ oþer bileued,
& þine helme is al to-hewe,
Þine hauberk to-rent þat was newe;
& wounded þou art, þou miȝt well se,
Long miȝt tow nouȝt oliues be.
To day ichil ȝeld þe to þe douk Otoun,
& he þe schal do in his prisoun.
Þan seyd Gij, ‘Gwichard, y nille:
It no may no noþer be:
On þe erþe liþe þi scheld to-dreued,
Nouȝt o pece is wiþ oþer bileued,
& þine helme is al to-hewe,
Þine hauberk to-rent þat was newe;
& wounded þou art, þou miȝt well se,
Long miȝt tow nouȝt oliues be.
To day ichil ȝeld þe to þe douk Otoun,
& he þe schal do in his prisoun.
To ȝeld me to þe is nouȝt mi wille,
Þer-whiles ichaue mi swerd y-grounde,
& mi bodi wiþouten wounde.’
Gwichard smot Gij wiþ michel miȝt
Opon þe helme þat schon so briȝt,
Þat a quarter out fleye;
Þe kniȝt was boþe queynt & sleye.
Opon his scholder þat swerd glod,
Of his hauberk it tok a pece brod;
God saued Gij þat he nas ded,
No for þat dint hadde no qued.
86
He was wroþ, ȝe may wele wite;
Gwichard he wald fond to smite
Wiþ his swerd þat wold wele bite;
To him he smot swiþe smert
Þurch þe bodi ful ney þe hert:
Þat gode swerd þurchim þrang,
Gwichard wald abide nouȝt lang;
He turned his stede & gan to fle,
& Gij after him, bi mi leute.
Gode was þe hors þat Gwichard rod on,
& so fast his stede gan gon,
Þat Gij miȝt him nouȝt atake,
Þer-fore he gan sorwe make.
Gwichard fleye in his way
Toward Paui, so swiþe he may.
Þe douk Otous fram hunting com,
& with him erles mani on;
A kniȝt he seye cum prikeing,
His armes to-rent, his woundes bledeing.
Þe douk Otous duelled aþrowe,
What he hadde Gwichard y-knowe:
Wele he semed man aferd,
Þat hard tiding hadde y-herd.
Wiþ þat is Gwichard to him come;
Þe douke him oxed atte frome,
‘Gwichard, who haþ wretþed þe,
& where hastow in bateyle be?
Where is Gij? is he nome?
Liues or deþ[es] do him come.’
‘Ichil ȝou sigge sikerly
So michel so y wot of Gij:
At a ford we him mett,
& strongliche we him bisett,
Bot his bodi no nom we nouȝt,
Ac al to deþ we ben y-brouȝt;
88
‘Mi nevou Hougoun, whar is he?’
Quod þe douk Otous, ‘tel me raþe.’
‘Sir, in þe sond he liþe, & þat is scaþe.’
‘& þerl Lambard, þat gode kniȝt?’.
‘Ded he liþe in þat fiȝt.’
When douk Otus herd þat,
Sori he was & no-þing glad:
Þat he haþ his folk for-lore,
Sorweful man he was þerfore.
Neyȝe his hert brast for mode,
& for sorwe ȝede ner wode,
When he wist his folk y-slawe,
& þurch him brouȝt o liue dawe.
Now haþ Gij miche sorwe made,
For his felawes he is vnglade.
‘Allas,’ quod Gii, ‘felawes dere!
So wele doand kniȝtes ȝe were.
Al to iuel it fel to me,
Felice, þo y was sent to serue þe;
For þi loue, Felice, the feir may,
Þe flour of kniȝtes is sleyn þis day.
Ac for þou art a wiman,
Y no can nouȝt blame þe for þan;
For þe last no worþ y nouȝt
Þat wimen han to gronde y-brouȝt.
Ac alle oþer may bi me,
Ȝif þai wil, y-warned be.
Allas, Herhaud, mi dere frende,
What þou were curteys & hende!
Who schal me now help in fiȝt?
Neuer no was no better kniȝt.
In ich fiȝt wele halp thou me,
Ful iuel ichaue y-ȝolden it þe;
For me þou hast þi liif forgon,
Of þe no tit me neuer help non.
How mai ich now fram þe wende?
That y no mai dye þe hende!
Acursed be þe Lombardes ichon,
That slowen þe, and lete me gon!
& þat þai hadde y-slawe me,
& leten þe oliue be!
Wharto lete þai me alon?’
Þus sir Gij biment his mone.
For his felawes he is vnglade.
‘Allas,’ quod Gii, ‘felawes dere!
So wele doand kniȝtes ȝe were.
Al to iuel it fel to me,
Felice, þo y was sent to serue þe;
For þi loue, Felice, the feir may,
Þe flour of kniȝtes is sleyn þis day.
Ac for þou art a wiman,
Y no can nouȝt blame þe for þan;
For þe last no worþ y nouȝt
Þat wimen han to gronde y-brouȝt.
Ac alle oþer may bi me,
Ȝif þai wil, y-warned be.
Allas, Herhaud, mi dere frende,
What þou were curteys & hende!
Who schal me now help in fiȝt?
Neuer no was no better kniȝt.
In ich fiȝt wele halp thou me,
Ful iuel ichaue y-ȝolden it þe;
For me þou hast þi liif forgon,
Of þe no tit me neuer help non.
90
That y no mai dye þe hende!
Acursed be þe Lombardes ichon,
That slowen þe, and lete me gon!
& þat þai hadde y-slawe me,
& leten þe oliue be!
Wharto lete þai me alon?’
Þus sir Gij biment his mone.
‘Allas! allas! Rohaut, mi lord,
Þat y no hadde leued þi word!
Þan hadde y nouȝt y-passed þe se,
Ich hadde bileued at hom wiþ þe;
Þus yuel nere me nouȝt bifalle,
Y no hadde nouȝt lorn min felawes alle.
Who so nil nouȝt do bi his faders red,
Oft-siþes it falleþ him qued;
For often ichaue herd it say,
& y me self it sigge may,
“Who þat nil nouȝt leue his fader,
He schel leue his steffader.”’
What for his woundes þat strong bledeþ,
What for his sorwe þat he ledeþ,
Al for sorwe & for wo
Adoun he fel aswon þo.
When he of swoning vp stod,
His feren he biheld wiþ drery mod;
Þan he lepe opon his stede,
To an ermitage he wold ride.
‘Ermite,’ quod he, ‘com wiþ me;
Þis hors of priis ȝiue y þe;
To bodis þou schalt in erþe graue,
Þat in þis forest ben y-slawe.’
‘Bleþeliche, sir,’ þan seyd he;
‘Wende bifore, y folwe þe.’
Þe bodis him scheweþ sir Gij,
Boþe Toraud & sir Urry.
Seþþe he lepe opon his stede,
Herhaud he wil wiþ him lede;
& so he dede sikerliche,
& seþþe he was heled softliche,
Ac no for þan Gij wend wele þere
Þat Herhaud to deþ y-wounded were.
Þat y no hadde leued þi word!
Þan hadde y nouȝt y-passed þe se,
Ich hadde bileued at hom wiþ þe;
Þus yuel nere me nouȝt bifalle,
Y no hadde nouȝt lorn min felawes alle.
Who so nil nouȝt do bi his faders red,
Oft-siþes it falleþ him qued;
For often ichaue herd it say,
& y me self it sigge may,
“Who þat nil nouȝt leue his fader,
He schel leue his steffader.”’
What for his woundes þat strong bledeþ,
What for his sorwe þat he ledeþ,
Al for sorwe & for wo
Adoun he fel aswon þo.
When he of swoning vp stod,
His feren he biheld wiþ drery mod;
Þan he lepe opon his stede,
To an ermitage he wold ride.
‘Ermite,’ quod he, ‘com wiþ me;
Þis hors of priis ȝiue y þe;
To bodis þou schalt in erþe graue,
Þat in þis forest ben y-slawe.’
‘Bleþeliche, sir,’ þan seyd he;
‘Wende bifore, y folwe þe.’
Þe bodis him scheweþ sir Gij,
Boþe Toraud & sir Urry.
92
Herhaud he wil wiþ him lede;
& so he dede sikerliche,
& seþþe he was heled softliche,
Ac no for þan Gij wend wele þere
Þat Herhaud to deþ y-wounded were.
Now is Gij þennes y-fare;
For his felawes he haþ gret care.
Herhaudes bodi wiþ him he bar,
For he nold it nouȝt lete þar.
He went him to an abbay
Þat was bisiden on the way.
Wiþ þe gode abbot þer he mett,
& pitouseliche he him gret:
‘Sir abbot, he þe haue & weld,
Þat made man wex in-to eld!
& for þe loue of þe trinite,
Ich þe bidde, par charite,
Þat þou þis bodi vnder-fo,
& feir biry þou it do.
Ful wele y schal ȝeld it þe,
& y mot haue hele, & liues be.’
‘Who artow?’ seyd þe abbot, ‘telle it me.’
‘Bleþeliche,’ seyd Gij, ‘bi mi leute:
A kniȝt icham of fer cuntre;
At a pas asailed wer we
Wiþ strong þeues & mani outlawe,
Þat mine feren haue y-slawe;
& ich me-self am iuel y-wounde,
Y wene y liue no stounde;
Ac ȝif y liue, y ȝeld it þe,
Þe trauail þat tow dost for me.’
Þabbot answerd þo:
‘Al þi wille it schal be do.’
For his felawes he haþ gret care.
Herhaudes bodi wiþ him he bar,
For he nold it nouȝt lete þar.
He went him to an abbay
Þat was bisiden on the way.
Wiþ þe gode abbot þer he mett,
& pitouseliche he him gret:
‘Sir abbot, he þe haue & weld,
Þat made man wex in-to eld!
& for þe loue of þe trinite,
Ich þe bidde, par charite,
Þat þou þis bodi vnder-fo,
& feir biry þou it do.
Ful wele y schal ȝeld it þe,
& y mot haue hele, & liues be.’
‘Who artow?’ seyd þe abbot, ‘telle it me.’
‘Bleþeliche,’ seyd Gij, ‘bi mi leute:
A kniȝt icham of fer cuntre;
At a pas asailed wer we
Wiþ strong þeues & mani outlawe,
Þat mine feren haue y-slawe;
& ich me-self am iuel y-wounde,
Y wene y liue no stounde;
Ac ȝif y liue, y ȝeld it þe,
Þe trauail þat tow dost for me.’
Þabbot answerd þo:
‘Al þi wille it schal be do.’
Now goþ Gij sore desmaid,
His woundes him han iuel afreyd.
To an ermite he is y-go,
Þat he was ere aqueynted to;
His woundes þer hele he dede
Wiþouten noise in that stede.
Miche he him dradde þe douk Otoun,
So ful he was of tresoun.
His woundes him han iuel afreyd.
94
Þat he was ere aqueynted to;
His woundes þer hele he dede
Wiþouten noise in that stede.
Miche he him dradde þe douk Otoun,
So ful he was of tresoun.
Þabot of whom ich er of teld,
On Herhaud he hadde gret rewþe to biheld;
He dede beren his body
Into a chamber to vnarmy.
A monk of þe house biheld him,
Bodi & heued & ich a lim.
Þilke monk sorgien was,
Þe vertu he knewe of mani a gras;
Þe wounde he biheld stedefastliche,
Þat in his body was so griseliche.
Bi the wounde he seye y-wis
Þat to þe deþ wounded he nis,
& seye þat he hym hele miȝt;
& so he dede ful wele, y pliȝt.
On Herhaud he hadde gret rewþe to biheld;
He dede beren his body
Into a chamber to vnarmy.
A monk of þe house biheld him,
Bodi & heued & ich a lim.
Þilke monk sorgien was,
Þe vertu he knewe of mani a gras;
Þe wounde he biheld stedefastliche,
Þat in his body was so griseliche.
Bi the wounde he seye y-wis
Þat to þe deþ wounded he nis,
& seye þat he hym hele miȝt;
& so he dede ful wele, y pliȝt.
Bi þe moneþ ende at eue
Gij was al hole & toke his leue
From þe gode ermite, he went his way
Toward Poile, also þe way lay.
To þe king he is icome
Þat him bede mani warisone,
& miche tresour of siluer & of gold;
Ac Gij þerof non haue no wold.
At ich plas & turnament
Gij hadde þe priis verrament.
Was þer non in al þat lond,
Þat his dent miȝt astond.
Þer-fore men loued him swiþe miche,
& vnder-fenge him bleþeliche;
Alle gode men he was leue & dere,
& wiþ hem alle pleye-fere.
Atte king he toke leue þo;
Into Sessoyne he is ygo.
Gij was al hole & toke his leue
From þe gode ermite, he went his way
Toward Poile, also þe way lay.
To þe king he is icome
Þat him bede mani warisone,
& miche tresour of siluer & of gold;
Ac Gij þerof non haue no wold.
At ich plas & turnament
Gij hadde þe priis verrament.
Was þer non in al þat lond,
Þat his dent miȝt astond.
Þer-fore men loued him swiþe miche,
& vnder-fenge him bleþeliche;
Alle gode men he was leue & dere,
& wiþ hem alle pleye-fere.
96
Into Sessoyne he is ygo.
Now he is comen to þe douk Reyner,
Þat him loued and held dere;
He him vnder-feng wiþ worþschipe,
& dede him miche manschipe.
So long in þat cuntre bileued he is,
Þat ouer alle oþer he is praised y-wis.
Gij him biþouȝt þo
Þat he hadde þer y-nouȝ ydo:
Into Inglond he wald wende,
For to speke wiþ his frende;
For it was ago fif ȝer
Þat he was last þer;
In lasse while þan þat was
Might falle mani wonder cas.
Þurch cuntres has he hadde y-went,
Quens and cuntas him haþ of-sent,
Ac non of hem he nold sikerliche
Bot Felice þat he loued so miche.
What for his miȝt and his godenisse,
For his nortour and his largesse,
Þer nis kniȝt þat so miche preysed be
Unto Antiage, þat riche cite.
Þat him loued and held dere;
He him vnder-feng wiþ worþschipe,
& dede him miche manschipe.
So long in þat cuntre bileued he is,
Þat ouer alle oþer he is praised y-wis.
Gij him biþouȝt þo
Þat he hadde þer y-nouȝ ydo:
Into Inglond he wald wende,
For to speke wiþ his frende;
For it was ago fif ȝer
Þat he was last þer;
In lasse while þan þat was
Might falle mani wonder cas.
Þurch cuntres has he hadde y-went,
Quens and cuntas him haþ of-sent,
Ac non of hem he nold sikerliche
Bot Felice þat he loued so miche.
What for his miȝt and his godenisse,
For his nortour and his largesse,
Þer nis kniȝt þat so miche preysed be
Unto Antiage, þat riche cite.
Gij him spedde niȝt & day;
Into Inglond he toke þe way.
Into Inglond he toke þe way.
Of Gij ichil lete now,
And more after y schal tel ȝou;
Of Herhaud ichil telle astounde
Þat wele is heled of his wounde.
When he feld him hole & fere,
Of þabot he tok his leue þer;
His lord Gij he goþ secheing
Niȝt & day, him for to finde:
Toward Inglond he tok his way,
Crist him saue, so wele he may!
At a pinacle bi þe se
Gij seye a man of rewly ble
Go in pilgrims wede:
Þat was Herhaud, so god me spede!
Gij him cleped wel swiþe to him,
& seyd, ‘wen comestow, pilgrim?’
‘Sir,’ he seyd, ‘y com fram Lombardy,
Of hard y-schaped for þe maistrie;
And more after y schal tel ȝou;
Of Herhaud ichil telle astounde
Þat wele is heled of his wounde.
When he feld him hole & fere,
Of þabot he tok his leue þer;
His lord Gij he goþ secheing
Niȝt & day, him for to finde:
Toward Inglond he tok his way,
Crist him saue, so wele he may!
98
Gij seye a man of rewly ble
Go in pilgrims wede:
Þat was Herhaud, so god me spede!
Gij him cleped wel swiþe to him,
& seyd, ‘wen comestow, pilgrim?’
‘Sir,’ he seyd, ‘y com fram Lombardy,
Of hard y-schaped for þe maistrie;
& lorn ichaue mi kinde lord:
Gode kniȝt he was and bold.
Bitraid ous hadde þe douk Otoun:
Haue he Cristes malisoun!
In þis wise ichil go,
& bid for mi lord euer mo.’
‘Pilgrim, say me trewelich,
What hete þe man þou loued so miche?’
‘Gij of Warwike was his name:
A kniȝt he was wiþ-outen blame.’
Wiþ þat he gan to sike sore,
& wepe wiþ his eyȝen þerfore;
He him miȝt no lenge at-held.
Gij him gan reweliche biheld:
‘Gode man,’ quod Gij, ‘for þi leute,
What is þi name? telle thou me.’
‘Herhaud of Ardern, bi mi leute,
Ich was y-born in þat cuntre;
Fif ȝer þus ichaue y-go
To seche Gij y loued so.’
When Gij herd Herhaud speke,
Him thouȝt his hert wald to-breke,
& in his armes he haþ him take,
& gret ioie wiþ him gan make;
Him he kist wel mani siþe:
For ioie he wepe, so was he bliþe.
‘Hayl, Herhaud, maister min!
No knowestow nouȝt norri þine?’
‘Certes,’ quod Herhaud, ‘sir, nay:
Ded he was for mani a day.’
He him answerd, ‘icham Gij!’
‘Sir,’ quod Herhaud, ‘merci!’
Sone so Herhaud vnder-stode
Þat it was Gij þat was so gode,
For ioie he fel aswon anon;
Gij him in his armes nome.
Þer men miȝt se ioie make
Aiþer kniȝt for oþer sake;
Þer nas non þat it y-seye,
Þat he no wepe wiþ his eyȝe.
Gode kniȝt he was and bold.
Bitraid ous hadde þe douk Otoun:
Haue he Cristes malisoun!
In þis wise ichil go,
& bid for mi lord euer mo.’
‘Pilgrim, say me trewelich,
What hete þe man þou loued so miche?’
‘Gij of Warwike was his name:
A kniȝt he was wiþ-outen blame.’
Wiþ þat he gan to sike sore,
& wepe wiþ his eyȝen þerfore;
He him miȝt no lenge at-held.
Gij him gan reweliche biheld:
‘Gode man,’ quod Gij, ‘for þi leute,
What is þi name? telle thou me.’
‘Herhaud of Ardern, bi mi leute,
Ich was y-born in þat cuntre;
Fif ȝer þus ichaue y-go
To seche Gij y loued so.’
When Gij herd Herhaud speke,
Him thouȝt his hert wald to-breke,
& in his armes he haþ him take,
& gret ioie wiþ him gan make;
Him he kist wel mani siþe:
For ioie he wepe, so was he bliþe.
100
No knowestow nouȝt norri þine?’
‘Certes,’ quod Herhaud, ‘sir, nay:
Ded he was for mani a day.’
He him answerd, ‘icham Gij!’
‘Sir,’ quod Herhaud, ‘merci!’
Sone so Herhaud vnder-stode
Þat it was Gij þat was so gode,
For ioie he fel aswon anon;
Gij him in his armes nome.
Þer men miȝt se ioie make
Aiþer kniȝt for oþer sake;
Þer nas non þat it y-seye,
Þat he no wepe wiþ his eyȝe.
Adoun þai sett hem boþe þare,
& aiþer teld of oþeres care.
Sir Gij haþ Herhaud y-teld
Hou he him ladde out of þe feld,
For to birry him at on abbay
Þat was bisiden on þe way.
& seþþen haþ Herhaud y-teld
Hou his woundes weren y-heled,
And þat mani lond he hadde ouergo,
To seche his lord wiþ sorwe & wo.
On hors þai lopen anon wiþ þis
Vnto a cite wiþ ioie and blis;
Þan dede Gij Herhaud baþey
& wiþ riche metes comforti.
From þennes þai went to þe douk Miloun,
And to him þai ben ful welcome;
Of her auentours þai teld him þere:
Hou þo was gode þat wicke was ere!
Þer þai maden her dueling
Long anouȝ to her likeing.
& aiþer teld of oþeres care.
Sir Gij haþ Herhaud y-teld
Hou he him ladde out of þe feld,
For to birry him at on abbay
Þat was bisiden on þe way.
& seþþen haþ Herhaud y-teld
Hou his woundes weren y-heled,
And þat mani lond he hadde ouergo,
To seche his lord wiþ sorwe & wo.
On hors þai lopen anon wiþ þis
Vnto a cite wiþ ioie and blis;
Þan dede Gij Herhaud baþey
& wiþ riche metes comforti.
From þennes þai went to þe douk Miloun,
And to him þai ben ful welcome;
Of her auentours þai teld him þere:
Hou þo was gode þat wicke was ere!
Þer þai maden her dueling
Long anouȝ to her likeing.
At the douke þai token leue þo,
For in-to Inglond þai wald go.
Þe douke hem wald lenger duelle,
Ac it nas no-thing in her wille
Þer to bileue wiþ him no more,
& þat biþouȝt þe douke wel sore.
Toward Seynt Omer he is y-go,
Herhaud þe gode wiþ him also;
Toward þe se þai token her way,
So swiþe her hors hem bere may.
When þai ben to toun y-come,
Her in þai han sone y-nome.
To a windowe sir Gij is go,
In-to þe strete he loked þo;
A palmer he seȝe cominge,
Messaisliche bi þe strete walkinge.
To him haþ y-cleped sir Gij,
& curteysliche gan him axi,
‘Weltow herberwe? for it is niȝt;
For ferþer go þou no miȝt.’
Þe pilgrim answerd Gij,
‘Swete sir, gramerci!’
Gij doþ him þan bileue,
Ferþer he no may, for it was eue;
& seþþe he badde he schuld him say
Sum soþ tidinges of þe way,
Ȝif he herd neye oþer fer
Speken of batayle & of wer.
‘Ichil þe telle,’ he seyd, ‘fot hot
Of al þe wer þat y wot:
Þerof is mani man aferd;
Of stronger sorwe no haue ȝe herd.’
For in-to Inglond þai wald go.
102
Ac it nas no-thing in her wille
Þer to bileue wiþ him no more,
& þat biþouȝt þe douke wel sore.
Toward Seynt Omer he is y-go,
Herhaud þe gode wiþ him also;
Toward þe se þai token her way,
So swiþe her hors hem bere may.
When þai ben to toun y-come,
Her in þai han sone y-nome.
To a windowe sir Gij is go,
In-to þe strete he loked þo;
A palmer he seȝe cominge,
Messaisliche bi þe strete walkinge.
To him haþ y-cleped sir Gij,
& curteysliche gan him axi,
‘Weltow herberwe? for it is niȝt;
For ferþer go þou no miȝt.’
Þe pilgrim answerd Gij,
‘Swete sir, gramerci!’
Gij doþ him þan bileue,
Ferþer he no may, for it was eue;
& seþþe he badde he schuld him say
Sum soþ tidinges of þe way,
Ȝif he herd neye oþer fer
Speken of batayle & of wer.
‘Ichil þe telle,’ he seyd, ‘fot hot
Of al þe wer þat y wot:
Þerof is mani man aferd;
Of stronger sorwe no haue ȝe herd.’
Gij seyd to him, ‘telle it me.’
‘For soþe y graunt,’ þan seyd he.
Of Almaine þe riche emperour,
‘For soþe y graunt,’ þan seyd he.
Reyner, þat weldeþ þat anour,
Þe douke of Lowayn he haþ bisett,
His men slain, & þat is vnnett;
104
Wiþ wer he doþ him wo anouȝ.
Almost a ȝer it is ago,
A turnament þer was y-do;
Þe douke Segyn was þer þo,
Þat al Lowayn bilongeþ to,
Wiþ his kniȝtes of his lond,
Þider come her miȝt to fond.
When þe turnament com to þende,
Þe douke Segyn þennes wald wende:
Wiþ þat come Sadok prikeing,
Þe douke Segyn vnder-secheing;
Wiþ þe douke he hadde gret envie,
For he was gode kniȝt for þe maistrie.
Sadok was y-hoten þat gome,
Out of Mirabel he was y-come;
Of turnamens he was praised þo.
His hauberk was of y-do;
In sengle armes he was y-diȝt.
Y-preysed he was for a gode kniȝt.
To þe douke he seyd, ‘wende tow þe;
Ones þou schalt justi wiþ me,
As kniȝt that wele alosed is;
Sone it worþ sen y-wis.’
‘Sadok,’ seyd Segyn, ‘lete me be,
Wiþ gode loue y pray þe;
Wiþ þe to justi haue y no wille,
For y þe loue, and þat is skille,
& to eken þat þou art mi lordes nevou:
His soster sone so artow;
Unworþschip it wer to me
Ȝif y schuld iusti wiþ þe.
Ac go in, and arme þe snelle,
And y com anon, y nil nouȝt duelle.’
Seyd Sadok, ‘to arwe artow,
When ones justi no darstow now.
Now ichil þe for a couward held,
& for a kniȝt vnwrast in feld:
Bot þou wilt wiþ me justi,
Ichil þe don a vilani.
Hennes forward war þe fro me,
Þi dedliche fo ichil now be!’
Now Sadok smot to Segyn,
& nothing he no spared him;
Sadok toforn haþ him smete
Of his scheld a quarter wiþ gret hete,
Þat he him wounded þurch þat arm,
& he him wreþed for that harm;
So strong is þat strok y-ȝiue,
Þat his helme is al to-driue.
Þe douke him wreþþed for þat smite,
& was ful wroþ, ȝe mow wele wite,
& þurch þe bodi he Sadok smot,
Þat ded he fel doun fot hot.
Wiþ þat he is out of the place y-went,
For þer was ȝiuen a sorwe-ful dent.
With him he dede þat bodi lede
Unto an abbay, and biri it dede.
Þe douke Segin anon riȝt
Into the cite of Arrascoun him haþ y-diȝt:
Þer-in he holt him soiourninge
For drede of þemperours cominge.
Wiþ gode loue y pray þe;
Wiþ þe to justi haue y no wille,
For y þe loue, and þat is skille,
& to eken þat þou art mi lordes nevou:
His soster sone so artow;
Unworþschip it wer to me
Ȝif y schuld iusti wiþ þe.
Ac go in, and arme þe snelle,
And y com anon, y nil nouȝt duelle.’
Seyd Sadok, ‘to arwe artow,
When ones justi no darstow now.
106
& for a kniȝt vnwrast in feld:
Bot þou wilt wiþ me justi,
Ichil þe don a vilani.
Hennes forward war þe fro me,
Þi dedliche fo ichil now be!’
Now Sadok smot to Segyn,
& nothing he no spared him;
Sadok toforn haþ him smete
Of his scheld a quarter wiþ gret hete,
Þat he him wounded þurch þat arm,
& he him wreþed for that harm;
So strong is þat strok y-ȝiue,
Þat his helme is al to-driue.
Þe douke him wreþþed for þat smite,
& was ful wroþ, ȝe mow wele wite,
& þurch þe bodi he Sadok smot,
Þat ded he fel doun fot hot.
Wiþ þat he is out of the place y-went,
For þer was ȝiuen a sorwe-ful dent.
With him he dede þat bodi lede
Unto an abbay, and biri it dede.
Þe douke Segin anon riȝt
Into the cite of Arrascoun him haþ y-diȝt:
Þer-in he holt him soiourninge
For drede of þemperours cominge.
& when þemperour herd þis cas,
Þat his nevou y-slawe was,
Ouer al his lond his hest he bede
To com to him for grete nede.
& when þai al icomen beþ,
Þe douke of Lowayn he sege deþ;
No wil he neuer þennes come,
Er the douke be ded or nome.’
Þat his nevou y-slawe was,
Ouer al his lond his hest he bede
To com to him for grete nede.
& when þai al icomen beþ,
Þe douke of Lowayn he sege deþ;
No wil he neuer þennes come,
Er the douke be ded or nome.’
When þe pilgrim hadde al y-teld,
Gij him herkened & biheld;
He stont & biþouȝt him ȝerne,
Wheþer he forþ go oþer oȝain terne.
He seyd to Herhaud, ‘what rede [ȝe]?
Sum gode conseyl ȝif þou me,
Ȝif we forþ in our wai go,
Oþer to þe douke him socour to do.
Þat tow me redest, don y wille;
Þi conseyl forsake y nille.’
Gij him herkened & biheld;
108
Wheþer he forþ go oþer oȝain terne.
He seyd to Herhaud, ‘what rede [ȝe]?
Sum gode conseyl ȝif þou me,
Ȝif we forþ in our wai go,
Oþer to þe douke him socour to do.
Þat tow me redest, don y wille;
Þi conseyl forsake y nille.’
Þan seyd Herhaud i-wis,
‘Y ȝif conseyl, & gode it is;
Hem to help men schul spede
Þat to help han gret nede.
For los and priis þou miȝt þer winne,
& manschip to þe & al þi kinne.’
‘Sir Herhaud,’ quod Gij þe gode,
‘Þilke lord þat died on rode
Þe blisse, & saue þe,
For gode conseyl ȝif[es]tow me.’
Gij him graiþed & made him ȝare
Into Loweyne for to fare;
& wiþ him oþer fifti kniȝt,
In feld þe best þat miȝt fiȝt.
Y-comen þai ben to Arascoun,
To þe douke þai ben wel-com.
In þe cite þai han her in y-take;
Mani wer bliþe for her sake.
Gij bi þe morwe aros þo,
Riȝt to chirche he is y-go:
Matins & masse he herd þere,
& seþþe went hom wiþ his fere.
Bi þe strete he seye miche folk erne,
Hemself to were þai most lerne.
Sir Gij to his ost sede,
‘What is al þis? so god þe rede,
Bele ost, y bidde, say þou me,
What may al þis erning be?’
‘Sir, ichil þe telle,’ þan seyd he,
‘No word nil ich lyȝe þe;
It is þemperours steward,
A gode kniȝt and no coward
(Anon to Speyne his better nis),
& with him gret compeynie y-wis,
An hundred kniȝtes gode of ker,
Her better no may wepen ber.
Þe cite þai han bisett:
Ȝif ani kniȝt be out y-mett,
He no mai nouȝt passe vn-y-nome,
Oþer y-slayn atte frome.’
‘Y ȝif conseyl, & gode it is;
Hem to help men schul spede
Þat to help han gret nede.
For los and priis þou miȝt þer winne,
& manschip to þe & al þi kinne.’
‘Sir Herhaud,’ quod Gij þe gode,
‘Þilke lord þat died on rode
Þe blisse, & saue þe,
For gode conseyl ȝif[es]tow me.’
Gij him graiþed & made him ȝare
Into Loweyne for to fare;
& wiþ him oþer fifti kniȝt,
In feld þe best þat miȝt fiȝt.
Y-comen þai ben to Arascoun,
To þe douke þai ben wel-com.
In þe cite þai han her in y-take;
Mani wer bliþe for her sake.
Gij bi þe morwe aros þo,
Riȝt to chirche he is y-go:
Matins & masse he herd þere,
& seþþe went hom wiþ his fere.
Bi þe strete he seye miche folk erne,
Hemself to were þai most lerne.
Sir Gij to his ost sede,
‘What is al þis? so god þe rede,
Bele ost, y bidde, say þou me,
What may al þis erning be?’
110
‘No word nil ich lyȝe þe;
It is þemperours steward,
A gode kniȝt and no coward
(Anon to Speyne his better nis),
& with him gret compeynie y-wis,
An hundred kniȝtes gode of ker,
Her better no may wepen ber.
Þe cite þai han bisett:
Ȝif ani kniȝt be out y-mett,
He no mai nouȝt passe vn-y-nome,
Oþer y-slayn atte frome.’
Þan seyd Gij, ‘lordinges, kniȝt,
Oȝains hem we wil ous diȝt.’
Sone þai ben in þe way y-don.
Þe steward seþ hem anon:
Þider-ward he him diȝt,
Also a kniȝt of gret miȝt.
His armes þan he ginneþ riȝt,
Oȝaines Gij he ritt apliȝt;
Anon to-gider þai gun smite,
Aiþer spard oþer bot lite.
Gij þe steward so hard smot,
Of his stede he feld him fot hot;
Þan he smot him wiþ his swerd broun
A quarter of his helme adoun.
Þurch grete strengþe he him wan,
& hom wiþ him ladde him þan.
When þe Almaines þat y-seye
Þat strong wer, and of fiȝt sleye,
Her lord nomen in þat fiȝt,
Owai þai priked wiþ al her miȝt.
Þer was þirled mani a scheld,
Mani a kniȝt lay in þe feld;
Gij is oȝain went wel sone,
& al his feren mid-y-done.
Þe Lombardes þai leggen fast opon,
Nil þai spare neuer on.
When þe kniȝtes of þat cite
Þis dede alle y-seyȝen he,
To army he[m] wel fast hy goþ,
Gij wel gode socour hij doþ;
& seþþen þai went forþ ariȝt,
& Gij socourd ful wele apliȝt.
Swiche strokes men miȝt þer se
Togider smiten þo kniȝtes fre:
Boþe wiþ launce and wiþ swerd
Thai ȝiuen mani strokes herd.
Þer miȝt men se stray þe steden,
So mani kniȝt cri & greden,
Þat wer þurch þe bodi wounde,
& ded fellen on þe grounde.
Oȝains hem we wil ous diȝt.’
Sone þai ben in þe way y-don.
Þe steward seþ hem anon:
Þider-ward he him diȝt,
Also a kniȝt of gret miȝt.
His armes þan he ginneþ riȝt,
Oȝaines Gij he ritt apliȝt;
Anon to-gider þai gun smite,
Aiþer spard oþer bot lite.
Gij þe steward so hard smot,
Of his stede he feld him fot hot;
Þan he smot him wiþ his swerd broun
A quarter of his helme adoun.
Þurch grete strengþe he him wan,
& hom wiþ him ladde him þan.
When þe Almaines þat y-seye
Þat strong wer, and of fiȝt sleye,
Her lord nomen in þat fiȝt,
Owai þai priked wiþ al her miȝt.
Þer was þirled mani a scheld,
Mani a kniȝt lay in þe feld;
Gij is oȝain went wel sone,
& al his feren mid-y-done.
112
Nil þai spare neuer on.
When þe kniȝtes of þat cite
Þis dede alle y-seyȝen he,
To army he[m] wel fast hy goþ,
Gij wel gode socour hij doþ;
& seþþen þai went forþ ariȝt,
& Gij socourd ful wele apliȝt.
Swiche strokes men miȝt þer se
Togider smiten þo kniȝtes fre:
Boþe wiþ launce and wiþ swerd
Thai ȝiuen mani strokes herd.
Þer miȝt men se stray þe steden,
So mani kniȝt cri & greden,
Þat wer þurch þe bodi wounde,
& ded fellen on þe grounde.
Michel him peyned sir Gij,
& Herhaud of Ardern sikerly:
Þis Almayns þai han ouercome,
Sum y-slawe and sum y-nome.
Þan sir Gij anon riȝt
Into þe cite he him diȝt,
Boþe he & his ferred:
Þe prisouns wiþ hem þai lede.
Into þe cite þai ben y-gon,
& to her innes þai wenten ichon.
Proude þai ben alle & some
Þat þe Almains ben ouer-come,
When þe douke yherd þis tidinge,
For blis his hert bigan to springe,
Þat Gii of Warwike was y-come
& hadde þe steward y-nome.
On his stede he lepe anon,
To Gyes in he is y-gon;
‘Gij,’ he seyd, ‘þou art welcome,
As of the warld þe best gome.
Toforn al oþer ichaue desired þe:
God y-thanked mot he be
Þat tow art come wiþ me to ben at nede,
For now ich worþ þe more loued & drede
Al of mi dedelich fo,
Þat al þis lond haþ brouȝt in wo.
Sire & lord now ichil make þe
Of mi court and of mi cite,
Mine castels & mine londes þer-to eke;
& hennes forward y þe biseke
Þatow þe worþschipe vnder-fo,
& þine hest þerof þou do.
Bi þi conseyl ichil nov don,
For to greue mi dedli fon.’
& Herhaud of Ardern sikerly:
Þis Almayns þai han ouercome,
Sum y-slawe and sum y-nome.
Þan sir Gij anon riȝt
Into þe cite he him diȝt,
Boþe he & his ferred:
Þe prisouns wiþ hem þai lede.
Into þe cite þai ben y-gon,
& to her innes þai wenten ichon.
Proude þai ben alle & some
Þat þe Almains ben ouer-come,
When þe douke yherd þis tidinge,
For blis his hert bigan to springe,
Þat Gii of Warwike was y-come
& hadde þe steward y-nome.
On his stede he lepe anon,
To Gyes in he is y-gon;
‘Gij,’ he seyd, ‘þou art welcome,
As of the warld þe best gome.
114
God y-thanked mot he be
Þat tow art come wiþ me to ben at nede,
For now ich worþ þe more loued & drede
Al of mi dedelich fo,
Þat al þis lond haþ brouȝt in wo.
Sire & lord now ichil make þe
Of mi court and of mi cite,
Mine castels & mine londes þer-to eke;
& hennes forward y þe biseke
Þatow þe worþschipe vnder-fo,
& þine hest þerof þou do.
Bi þi conseyl ichil nov don,
For to greue mi dedli fon.’
Wel curteysliche answerd Gij
& seyd, ‘sir, gramerci.
Bi mi miȝt ichil help þe
On ich stede where þat y be.’
Þe steward he ȝelt him þan swiþe,
Of whom þat he was glad & bliþe;
Þurch him he wende acorded be
Of þemperour, his lord so fre.
Bitvene hem þai tolden tale
Of her gode frendes fale.
& seyd, ‘sir, gramerci.
Bi mi miȝt ichil help þe
On ich stede where þat y be.’
Þe steward he ȝelt him þan swiþe,
Of whom þat he was glad & bliþe;
Þurch him he wende acorded be
Of þemperour, his lord so fre.
Bitvene hem þai tolden tale
Of her gode frendes fale.
Now sent Gij his sondes about,
Ȝepe men wiþ-outen dout,
To cuntres þat he haþ þurch-went.
Grete frendes he haþ of-sent,
Of barouns and of kniȝtes beld
Þe best þat miȝt wepen weld,
Bi hundred and bi þousinde,
Þat al wil ben his helpinde.
Þe castels and þe borwes þat lorn were,
Þe douke oȝain wan hem þere
Þurch Gyes help & his ferrede,
Þat wele wer helpeand at nede,
Bi him & bi his conseyl also,
Þat þennes forward him treweþe wil do.
Ȝepe men wiþ-outen dout,
To cuntres þat he haþ þurch-went.
Grete frendes he haþ of-sent,
Of barouns and of kniȝtes beld
Þe best þat miȝt wepen weld,
Bi hundred and bi þousinde,
Þat al wil ben his helpinde.
Þe castels and þe borwes þat lorn were,
Þe douke oȝain wan hem þere
Þurch Gyes help & his ferrede,
Þat wele wer helpeand at nede,
116
Þat þennes forward him treweþe wil do.
When þemperour yherd þis,
Þat Gij to þe douke ycomen is,
& þat he haþ his men ouercome,
Y-slawe & his steward nome,
Wroþ & sori he is þer-fore,
Þat he haþ so his men forlore.
To his barouns þan he sede:
‘Lordinges, what schal me to rede?
Neuer no worþ ich glad no bliþe,
Bot ich be awreken swiþe
Of Segyn & Gij þat is our fo,
Þat mi folk haþ brouȝt in wo.’
‘Sir,’ the douk Paui sede,
‘Ther-of þarf þe haue no drede.
Ar þe þridde day worþ to ende y-brouȝt,
Þat play worþ wel dere abouȝt;
For of þine folk take we wille,
Þat gode ben & snelle,
Þe best doand at swiche nede
Wiþ scheld & spere armed on stede:
Of Sessoine þe douke Reyner,
& þe constable Gaudiner,
& ich wiþ hem wil be,
& gret ferred lede wiþ me.
To Arascoun we schul fare,
Ȝif we þe douk finde þare.
Bot we þe treytours þe ȝelde,
We wil þatow in prisoun ous held.
Þat Gij to þe douke ycomen is,
& þat he haþ his men ouercome,
Y-slawe & his steward nome,
Wroþ & sori he is þer-fore,
Þat he haþ so his men forlore.
To his barouns þan he sede:
‘Lordinges, what schal me to rede?
Neuer no worþ ich glad no bliþe,
Bot ich be awreken swiþe
Of Segyn & Gij þat is our fo,
Þat mi folk haþ brouȝt in wo.’
‘Sir,’ the douk Paui sede,
‘Ther-of þarf þe haue no drede.
Ar þe þridde day worþ to ende y-brouȝt,
Þat play worþ wel dere abouȝt;
For of þine folk take we wille,
Þat gode ben & snelle,
Þe best doand at swiche nede
Wiþ scheld & spere armed on stede:
Of Sessoine þe douke Reyner,
& þe constable Gaudiner,
& ich wiþ hem wil be,
& gret ferred lede wiþ me.
To Arascoun we schul fare,
Ȝif we þe douk finde þare.
Bot we þe treytours þe ȝelde,
We wil þatow in prisoun ous held.
Þemperour answerd: ‘y-wis,
A gode conseyl so is þis.
Sir douk Reyner, þou schalt go,
& þou, constable, al-so;
Al-so schal þe douke of Pauie
Wiþ his grete cheualrie
To Arascoun, þat gode cite:
Þe douke & Gij bring to me.
Who so to me bring hem to,
Mi loue he schal haue for euer mo.’
‘Sir,’ þai seyd, ‘we willen go
A gode conseyl so is þis.
Sir douk Reyner, þou schalt go,
& þou, constable, al-so;
Al-so schal þe douke of Pauie
Wiþ his grete cheualrie
118
Þe douke & Gij bring to me.
Who so to me bring hem to,
Mi loue he schal haue for euer mo.’
Al þine hest for to do.’
Now hij han her way y-nome,
To Arascoun þat ben y-come.
When þai of þe cite wist hem þare,
Oȝaines hem þai diȝt hem ȝare;
Hastiliche to armes þai ben y-go,
Kniȝtes and squiers wiþ hem also.
When þai wer al redi,
& wele y-diȝt in her parti,
Þe douke cleped Herhaud him to,
& swetely seyd to him þo:
‘Sir Herhaud, þou schalt afong
Four hundred kniȝtes wiȝt and strong
(Þou schalt ȝif þe first asaut
Opon þe Almaundes, sir Herhaud);
& þou, sir Gij, an hundred to þe
Of mi londe þat best be;
And ȝif þat Herhaud haue nede,
Him to help þatow spede,
& ichil com wiþouten delay
Wiþ al þe strengþe þat y may.
Togider wiþ hem we schul fiȝt,
& hem ouer-com þurch godes miȝt.
As ichaue seyd, loke ye don,
& goþ and asaileþ hem anon.’
Herhaud ginneþ hem to asaily.
Þat fiȝt he wil comenci.
Of þe douk Otus Herhaud is vnder-nome
In þe alder first scheltrome;
His fo he is euen forþ his miȝt,
For he it haþ deserued þurch riȝt.
Herhaud him seyd, ‘Otus of Pauie,
Understond tow of þat felonie
Þat tow in Lombardi ous dedest,
When þou mi lord betreydest.
Wele we schul þer-of awreke be,
Ȝif god wil, er þe sonne doun te.’
& goþ and asaileþ hem anon.’
Herhaud ginneþ hem to asaily.
Þat fiȝt he wil comenci.
Of þe douk Otus Herhaud is vnder-nome
In þe alder first scheltrome;
His fo he is euen forþ his miȝt,
For he it haþ deserued þurch riȝt.
120
Understond tow of þat felonie
Þat tow in Lombardi ous dedest,
When þou mi lord betreydest.
Wele we schul þer-of awreke be,
Ȝif god wil, er þe sonne doun te.’
Otus answerd, ‘þou lexst on me,
& þat y schal sone kiþe þe;
Gret scorn is here so y go,
Y warn þe icham þi fo.’
Togider þai smiten wiþ gode wille,
Þat boþe of her hors adoun felle;
& after þai drouȝ her swerdes newe,
Wiþ gret envie to-gider þai hewe.
Þe douk him wereþ miȝtliche,
Herhaud him asaileþ strongliche;
Þurch þe feld he goþ him driueinde.
Wiþ þat com his folk prikeinde,
& her lord rescuweþ þere;
& þat y schal sone kiþe þe;
Gret scorn is here so y go,
Y warn þe icham þi fo.’
Togider þai smiten wiþ gode wille,
Þat boþe of her hors adoun felle;
& after þai drouȝ her swerdes newe,
Wiþ gret envie to-gider þai hewe.
Þe douk him wereþ miȝtliche,
Herhaud him asaileþ strongliche;
Þurch þe feld he goþ him driueinde.
Wiþ þat com his folk prikeinde,
& her lord rescuweþ þere;
121
[_]
The Caius MS has been followed from lines 2032–2207, owing to missing leaves in the Auchinleck MS.
And heraude to take they angry were:
Bot heraude vpon him werred strongly.
With that cometh his folke hastely:
With strength they bee forthe goo,
And heraude they broughte on hors thoo.
Than gan they to-geder smyte:
Noon spared other bot a lite.
Bot heraude vpon him werred strongly.
With that cometh his folke hastely:
With strength they bee forthe goo,
And heraude they broughte on hors thoo.
Than gan they to-geder smyte:
Noon spared other bot a lite.
The duke Otes had sorowe gretly,
Whan he sawe his folke sleyn so greuously,
And seide to his felawes thoo:
‘Lordinges, what shall we nowe doo?
See ye not here a man, by name,
That me dooth harme and moche shame,
That hath nyghe sleyne all my men,
Youre frendes and your kynnesmen?
Bot ye on him some wreke doo,
I shall you neuere loue moo.’
With that they assembled echoon,
And to heraude they smyte anoon.
There is heraude mysse bee-falle:
Loste he hath his men alle,
And recouere he shall sone this;
For grete socour him cometh ywis.
Heraude they dryue strongely,
And he werred on him hardily.
Whan Guy sawe heraude comyng,
Oute of that stronge fighte fleyng,
His helme to-dasshed in stedes moo,
His sheelde to-hewen all-moste in twoo
(And his hors wounded sawe he:
In stronge fighte he had bee):
With loude steuene than he yede
To the Duke and made assaute full quede.
He rescowed heraude in the felde,
And the other they toke and helde.
Whan Otes sawe sir Guyon
Come rennyng to him as a lyoun,
With highe voice he gan vpbreide,
And to the Duke Otes thus he seide:
‘Thou false and disceyuable traitour,
Full litell thou thoughte on thyn honour,
Whanne thow bee-traidest me,
And dud my men with sorowe slee
In the forest of playnes, as y forthe come
With my felawes, good knyghtes echoone.
Fro hense forewarde, y telle the,
Thy dedely foo y shalbee.
In good poynte to bee y am not like,
Tille y haue thyn hede of strike.’
With that either of theim pricked his stede,
And in grete wrathe to-gider yede.
Otes smote Guy in the sheelde,
That euen half flowe in the felde,
And Guy gaue Otes a wounde:
Thurgh his theighe he thruste his swerde grounde,
And his hede he had him benome,
Had not grete socour to him the rather come.
Two hundred knyghtes assailled Guy,
And him wolde haue sleyn wilfully,
And he him defended as a man:
All that he smote woo theim beecam.
There they haue their lorde redde,
And all wounded oute of the place ledde.
Guy the Almaignes before him wreketh:
Many he taketh, and many he sleeth.
Guy theim driueth, and fast they flee,
As folke that greuously ouerecome bee.
With that come the Duke Reyner,
Whan he sawe his folke sleyn so greuously,
And seide to his felawes thoo:
‘Lordinges, what shall we nowe doo?
See ye not here a man, by name,
That me dooth harme and moche shame,
123
Youre frendes and your kynnesmen?
Bot ye on him some wreke doo,
I shall you neuere loue moo.’
With that they assembled echoon,
And to heraude they smyte anoon.
There is heraude mysse bee-falle:
Loste he hath his men alle,
And recouere he shall sone this;
For grete socour him cometh ywis.
Heraude they dryue strongely,
And he werred on him hardily.
Whan Guy sawe heraude comyng,
Oute of that stronge fighte fleyng,
His helme to-dasshed in stedes moo,
His sheelde to-hewen all-moste in twoo
(And his hors wounded sawe he:
In stronge fighte he had bee):
With loude steuene than he yede
To the Duke and made assaute full quede.
He rescowed heraude in the felde,
And the other they toke and helde.
Whan Otes sawe sir Guyon
Come rennyng to him as a lyoun,
With highe voice he gan vpbreide,
And to the Duke Otes thus he seide:
‘Thou false and disceyuable traitour,
Full litell thou thoughte on thyn honour,
Whanne thow bee-traidest me,
And dud my men with sorowe slee
In the forest of playnes, as y forthe come
With my felawes, good knyghtes echoone.
Fro hense forewarde, y telle the,
Thy dedely foo y shalbee.
In good poynte to bee y am not like,
Tille y haue thyn hede of strike.’
125
And in grete wrathe to-gider yede.
Otes smote Guy in the sheelde,
That euen half flowe in the felde,
And Guy gaue Otes a wounde:
Thurgh his theighe he thruste his swerde grounde,
And his hede he had him benome,
Had not grete socour to him the rather come.
Two hundred knyghtes assailled Guy,
And him wolde haue sleyn wilfully,
And he him defended as a man:
All that he smote woo theim beecam.
There they haue their lorde redde,
And all wounded oute of the place ledde.
Guy the Almaignes before him wreketh:
Many he taketh, and many he sleeth.
Guy theim driueth, and fast they flee,
As folke that greuously ouerecome bee.
And the Constable sir Gaudemer:
In a slade they metten Guy,
And strongly on him sette they;
And Guy him drowe toward the Roume,
And all his felawes that with him come;
For ther were a thousand knyghtes
With theim to mete anone Rightes.
‘Lordinges,’ quoth Guy, ‘herken to me:
Thise knyghtis bee comyng as ye may see,
The Duke Reyner of Cessoigne
And the Duke Gaudemer of Coloigne.
In euery side we bee-sette bee,
So that we may not hense flee;
And though we might y nelle;
For forsothe, y shall you telle,
Better it is to dye manly
Than to flee with shame and vilanye.’
127
‘With the we woll abide veraily in dede.’
To-gider they smyte than faste:
Of the Almaignes they were not agaste.
There they beganne all newe fighte,
Wher-thurgh deide many a good knighte.
Guy gooth to smyte Duke Reyner,
And of his stede he felled him ther.
Heraude smote to Gaudemer there,
And oute of his sadell he did him bere.
With that cometh forth Gilmyn:
Besibbe he was the Duke Segwyn.
Than duke Botolf he smote so,
That of his hors he felled him tho.
Whan that sawe Duke Reyner
And the Constable Gaudemer,
Before theim their folke sleyne,
With grete sorowe and with peyne
Their voices lowde they greyde,
And assembled ayene with their ayde.
With that come the Duke Reyner,
And Gilemyn he mette ther,
So that the swerde longe and brode
Thurgh-oute his hepe it glode.
Gilemyn with-drowe abacke fleyng,
Ayene-warde faste priking,
And is to Duke Segwyn come:
Well he him knewe right sone.
‘Sir Duke,’ quoth Gilemyn,
Thou abidest to longe, by seynt Martyn.
Socour thy folke, and that blyue:
The Almaignes begynne fast on vs dryue.’
Whan the Duke of Gilemyn this herde,
And of his folke how it ferde,
He smote his stede and gan to goon,
To his men he seide anoon:
129
Guy wele to socour now;
For and Guy bee dede or nome,
All we bee thanne ouercome.’
With that come the Duke dryuyng,
And the Almaignes fast assailling.
The Duke a knyghte smote anone,
That dede he did him to grounde goon.
Guy they socour well with all:
Many a good knyght he did dede down fall.
On either side they foughte wele
With their launces and swerdes of stele:
They smote of hedes, armes, and honde;
All to-hewen they lye in the sonde.
With that cometh Duke Reyner,
Sleyne he hath the good Gayer:
In fraunce he was borne, Guyes feere;
To Guy he was leef and dere.
Whan Guy that sawe he was sory:
To the Duke he smote greuously,
That of his stede he felled him downe;
And than he drowe his swerde browne.
Suche a stroke he smote him vpon
That dey he wende forth-with anoon.
Sone there beganne a straunge shoure:
To-geder they smyte knyghtis of valoure.
So many strokes yiuen thou might see
Of the knightis that smote so free:
Bothe with spere and with swerde
They yiue many strokes and harde.
Ther men might see straye many a stede,
And many a knyght shriche and grede.
Wherto shuld y make a tale of nought?
The Almaignes were to deth brought.
Nowe been the Almaignes ouere-come,
To dethe wounded, and greuously nome.
Toward their hooste they goo fleyng,
The Duke and Guy after theim dryuyng.
With that come priking Terry full sone,
Of Gornoyse Aubries owne sone,
Of thirty Knyghtis swithe and snelle
Of his owne meyne hardy and felle:
All they come armed the hooste fro,
The Almaignes socour for to doo.
There they haue theim mette:
With loude steuene withoute lette,
‘Lordingis,’ he seide, ‘how goo ye?
Ayene wende nowe with me
To assaille eftsones your foon,
Of whom ye bee ouerecome echoon,
To dethe wounded, and greuously nome.
131
The Duke and Guy after theim dryuyng.
With that come priking Terry full sone,
Of Gornoyse Aubries owne sone,
Of thirty Knyghtis swithe and snelle
Of his owne meyne hardy and felle:
All they come armed the hooste fro,
The Almaignes socour for to doo.
There they haue theim mette:
With loude steuene withoute lette,
‘Lordingis,’ he seide, ‘how goo ye?
Ayene wende nowe with me
To assaille eftsones your foon,
Of whom ye bee ouerecome echoon,
Or ichil telle þemperour
Ȝe han y-don him gret deshonour,
When ȝe for a fewe men
Schul so sone oway flen.’
Þai turned hem anon riȝt,
& bi-gun a newe fiȝt.
Al togider þai gun smite;
Semblant of loue þai kidde bot lite.
Heteliche to him smot Gyoun;
His scheld nas nouȝt worþ a botoun,
No his tvifold armes halp him nouȝt
Þat in Loreyn weren y-wrouȝt.
Strokes hij togider delden ywis
On helmes & on briȝt scheldes;
So hard þai striken hem bitvene,
Þat gode stones fallen þer ben.
Aiþer semed a lyoun of mode,
So hard þai smiten wiþ swordes gode.
Wiþ him smot þe douke Segyn,
No lenge miȝt he wiþhelden him;
Togider þai smiten hard and wel
Wiþ brondes wele wrouȝt of stiel.
Ȝe han y-don him gret deshonour,
When ȝe for a fewe men
Schul so sone oway flen.’
Þai turned hem anon riȝt,
& bi-gun a newe fiȝt.
Al togider þai gun smite;
Semblant of loue þai kidde bot lite.
Heteliche to him smot Gyoun;
His scheld nas nouȝt worþ a botoun,
No his tvifold armes halp him nouȝt
Þat in Loreyn weren y-wrouȝt.
Strokes hij togider delden ywis
On helmes & on briȝt scheldes;
So hard þai striken hem bitvene,
Þat gode stones fallen þer ben.
Aiþer semed a lyoun of mode,
So hard þai smiten wiþ swordes gode.
Wiþ him smot þe douke Segyn,
No lenge miȝt he wiþhelden him;
Togider þai smiten hard and wel
Wiþ brondes wele wrouȝt of stiel.
132
Wiþ þat come prikeand Tirri,
Of Gurmoise þerl sone Aubri;
Wel sternliche he smitt a kniȝt,
Þat ded he fel anon riȝt.
So sone so douke Segyn seþ þis,
Wel wroþ he was wiþ him y-wis;
Wroþlich he seyd to Gij,
‘Here is gret scorn sikerly,
When þat olepi kniȝt
Schal ous do so michel vnriȝt,
& þan wiþ his saut owai flen.’
Gij answerd, ‘turn we oȝen,
& hardiliche aseyl we hem:
Anon turn we oȝen.’
Þe Almauns þai go to asayl
Wiþ gret strengþe in batayl;
Sorweful of hem was þe meteinge
Wiþ brondes of stiel wele kerueinge.
Anon þe Almaundes gin flen,
& þe oþer turnen oȝen.
Þe douk Segyn oȝain come,
Riȝt to his cite þe way he nome,
Of Gurmoise þerl sone Aubri;
Wel sternliche he smitt a kniȝt,
Þat ded he fel anon riȝt.
So sone so douke Segyn seþ þis,
Wel wroþ he was wiþ him y-wis;
Wroþlich he seyd to Gij,
‘Here is gret scorn sikerly,
When þat olepi kniȝt
Schal ous do so michel vnriȝt,
& þan wiþ his saut owai flen.’
Gij answerd, ‘turn we oȝen,
& hardiliche aseyl we hem:
Anon turn we oȝen.’
Þe Almauns þai go to asayl
Wiþ gret strengþe in batayl;
Sorweful of hem was þe meteinge
Wiþ brondes of stiel wele kerueinge.
Anon þe Almaundes gin flen,
& þe oþer turnen oȝen.
Þe douk Segyn oȝain come,
Riȝt to his cite þe way he nome,
& Gij afterward wiþ him is go,
& eke his feren also.
Wiþ hem þai habben her prisouns,
Doukes, erls, & barouns;
Wel glad & bliþe þan ben he,
& al þat weren in þat cite.
To her innes þai ben y-gon,
Wel glad ben hij euerichon.
& eke his feren also.
Wiþ hem þai habben her prisouns,
Doukes, erls, & barouns;
Wel glad & bliþe þan ben he,
& al þat weren in þat cite.
To her innes þai ben y-gon,
Wel glad ben hij euerichon.
Þe douke goþ in-to þe tour:
His prisouns he doþ gret anour,
Þerl Reyner of Sessoyne,
& þerl Gaudiner of Coloyne,
& wiþ hem þe stewerd,
Þat gode kniȝt was & wel y-herd.
Wiþ him eten he hem dede,
& more þan himself hem worþschipede.
Þe douke his soster cleped him to,
Þe fairest maiden þat miȝt go.
‘Þe prisouns þou nim to þe,
In þi chamber wiþ þe to be;
In þi chaumber kepes me
Þis gentil kniȝtes hende & fre;
& ouer alle oþer þe douke Reyner:
In hert he is me lef & dere.’
‘Sir,’ sche seyd, ‘ichil so
Hem to kepe my miȝt y-do.’
His prisouns he doþ gret anour,
134
& þerl Gaudiner of Coloyne,
& wiþ hem þe stewerd,
Þat gode kniȝt was & wel y-herd.
Wiþ him eten he hem dede,
& more þan himself hem worþschipede.
Þe douke his soster cleped him to,
Þe fairest maiden þat miȝt go.
‘Þe prisouns þou nim to þe,
In þi chamber wiþ þe to be;
In þi chaumber kepes me
Þis gentil kniȝtes hende & fre;
& ouer alle oþer þe douke Reyner:
In hert he is me lef & dere.’
‘Sir,’ sche seyd, ‘ichil so
Hem to kepe my miȝt y-do.’
Ac þe riche emperour fre,
Of þis comberment nist he.
Wiþ a kniȝt he pleyd atte ches
Of Hungri, þat he loved y-wis.
Wiþ þat com Tirri prikeinge,
In his fest his brond bereinge:
His hauberk was al to-tore,
& his nasel avaled bifore.
Þurch his bodi þe blod ran;
Tirri made no semblaunt of þan;
His strong scheld al to-hewen was,
Nouȝt a fot hole þer-of nas.
Of þis comberment nist he.
Wiþ a kniȝt he pleyd atte ches
Of Hungri, þat he loved y-wis.
Wiþ þat com Tirri prikeinge,
In his fest his brond bereinge:
His hauberk was al to-tore,
& his nasel avaled bifore.
Þurch his bodi þe blod ran;
Tirri made no semblaunt of þan;
His strong scheld al to-hewen was,
Nouȝt a fot hole þer-of nas.
‘Emperour,’ he seyd, ‘vnder-stond to me:
Hard tidinges may y telle þe
Of þine barouns þat y-nome be;
No schal þai neuer com to þe.
Sum be ded & brouȝt to grounde,
& sum be nomen, & sum be wounde:
Y-nomen is þe douk Reyner,
& þe constable Gaudiner;
Þe douke of Pauie wounded is
Wiþ a swerd þurch þe bodi y-wis:
Of þe deþ he drat him sore,
Hele no worþ him neuer more.’
Hard tidinges may y telle þe
Of þine barouns þat y-nome be;
No schal þai neuer com to þe.
Sum be ded & brouȝt to grounde,
& sum be nomen, & sum be wounde:
Y-nomen is þe douk Reyner,
& þe constable Gaudiner;
136
Wiþ a swerd þurch þe bodi y-wis:
Of þe deþ he drat him sore,
Hele no worþ him neuer more.’
When þemperour herd þo
What þerl Tirri seyd him to,
Wel sori he was, & wroþ þer-fore,
Þat neyȝe he haþ his witt forlore.
Y-sworn he haþ a wel gret oþ
Bi god almiȝti al for-soþ,
Þat neuer bliþe no worþ he,
Al what þat cite y-nomen be,
& þat þe traitours ben y-slawe,
Oþer for-brent, oþer y-flawe.
What þerl Tirri seyd him to,
Wel sori he was, & wroþ þer-fore,
Þat neyȝe he haþ his witt forlore.
Y-sworn he haþ a wel gret oþ
Bi god almiȝti al for-soþ,
Þat neuer bliþe no worþ he,
Al what þat cite y-nomen be,
& þat þe traitours ben y-slawe,
Oþer for-brent, oþer y-flawe.
His heste he dede cri anon,
His men to arme hem euerichon;
His scheltromes anon he diȝt,
& redi þai ben al to fiȝt.
Þe feldes þai ben sone ouer-gon
Þat were þe tounes bisiden on,
Al what hij comen to þe cite.
Gaier þan forþ ȝede he
Wiþ fif hundred armed kniȝtes,
Hardi & wele doand in fiȝtes.
Þo þat weren in þe cite,
On þe Almaynes bihelden he,
& seye þe cuntres & al þe feldes,
Wiþ white hauberkes & wiþ scheldes.
Þe douke him com forþ wiþ þat,
Wele y-armed on stede he sat:
‘Gij,’ he seyd, ‘what schal we do?
Ȝif we go & smite hem to,
Or we gon our walles to were,
Þat þe Almayns ous nouȝt dere?’
His men to arme hem euerichon;
His scheltromes anon he diȝt,
& redi þai ben al to fiȝt.
Þe feldes þai ben sone ouer-gon
Þat were þe tounes bisiden on,
Al what hij comen to þe cite.
Gaier þan forþ ȝede he
Wiþ fif hundred armed kniȝtes,
Hardi & wele doand in fiȝtes.
Þo þat weren in þe cite,
On þe Almaynes bihelden he,
& seye þe cuntres & al þe feldes,
Wiþ white hauberkes & wiþ scheldes.
Þe douke him com forþ wiþ þat,
Wele y-armed on stede he sat:
‘Gij,’ he seyd, ‘what schal we do?
Ȝif we go & smite hem to,
Or we gon our walles to were,
Þat þe Almayns ous nouȝt dere?’
Þan spac Sir Gij fot hot,
‘Wele schaltow do, for-soþe y wot:
Nim we now an hundred kniȝtes,
& go asayl hem anon riȝtes.
Bifor þe cite y se stond here
Gaier, þemperour sone Reyner,
& fif hundred kniȝtes in her ferred,
Wele y-armed on heye stede.
Biforn her ost þei ben y-comen,
Angwisous ous to nimen;
& ȝif we habbeþ gret nede,
Oȝain-ward we mai ous spede.’
Anon þai nomen an hundred kniȝtes,
Hardi & of most miȝtes;
Þai wenten out of þat cite,
Wel modi men weren he.
Wiþ þe Almauns þai wil iusti,
Nil hii nouȝt wiþ hem acordi;
Togider þai smiten hard & swiþe,
Of hors þai fellen mani a siþe.
‘Wele schaltow do, for-soþe y wot:
138
& go asayl hem anon riȝtes.
Bifor þe cite y se stond here
Gaier, þemperour sone Reyner,
& fif hundred kniȝtes in her ferred,
Wele y-armed on heye stede.
Biforn her ost þei ben y-comen,
Angwisous ous to nimen;
& ȝif we habbeþ gret nede,
Oȝain-ward we mai ous spede.’
Anon þai nomen an hundred kniȝtes,
Hardi & of most miȝtes;
Þai wenten out of þat cite,
Wel modi men weren he.
Wiþ þe Almauns þai wil iusti,
Nil hii nouȝt wiþ hem acordi;
Togider þai smiten hard & swiþe,
Of hors þai fellen mani a siþe.
Sir Gij him smot to Gaier,
& feld him doun of his destrer,
& seþþen he wan him in þat fiȝt;
Þe oþer oway flowen anon riȝt.
Toward þe ost þai flowen snelle,
Þe hete was swiþe strong wiþ alle.
Mani þai nomen & bounden fast,
& ladde into þe cite on hast.
& feld him doun of his destrer,
& seþþen he wan him in þat fiȝt;
Þe oþer oway flowen anon riȝt.
Toward þe ost þai flowen snelle,
Þe hete was swiþe strong wiþ alle.
Mani þai nomen & bounden fast,
& ladde into þe cite on hast.
When þai of þe ost y-seye þis,
Þat her folk ouercomen is,
& þat was in þat fiȝt y-nome
Gaier, þat was þemperour sone,
Þan hastiliche þe ost ichon
Opon Segyn þat smiten anon.
Þer bigan a newe fiȝt,
Whar-þurch died mani a kniȝt.
On aiþer side mani on dyed y-wis;
Ac þe douke wers bifallen is,
For miche of his folk he les.
Al auntreousliche þer he comen wes.
Þurch pride þan ferd he
Fram his ost, and fram his cite.
Wele hii deden no þe les,
He and Gii þat miȝti wes,
& wiþ hem Herhaud of Arderne;
To hem þai smiten swiþe ȝerne.
Þat her folk ouercomen is,
& þat was in þat fiȝt y-nome
Gaier, þat was þemperour sone,
Þan hastiliche þe ost ichon
Opon Segyn þat smiten anon.
Þer bigan a newe fiȝt,
Whar-þurch died mani a kniȝt.
On aiþer side mani on dyed y-wis;
Ac þe douke wers bifallen is,
140
Al auntreousliche þer he comen wes.
Þurch pride þan ferd he
Fram his ost, and fram his cite.
Wele hii deden no þe les,
He and Gii þat miȝti wes,
& wiþ hem Herhaud of Arderne;
To hem þai smiten swiþe ȝerne.
Wiþ þat com prikeing Tirri,
Þat gode kniȝt was & hardi;
To þe douk Segyn he smot,
& of his hors feld him fot hot;
Ac þe douk anon vp stert,
As he þat was agremed in hert,
& out he drouȝ his swerd of stiel,
& defended him swiþe wel.
Whom þat he rauȝt, ded he fel;
Strong kniȝt he was, hardi & snel.
Þer he defended him asperliche;
Þe Almaunis him asayl hastiliche:
Y-loken he was hem amidwerd,
To him þai launced boþe spere and swerd.
In mani stede wounded is he;
Wele he werþe him þei he sailed be.
Þat gode kniȝt was & hardi;
To þe douk Segyn he smot,
& of his hors feld him fot hot;
Ac þe douk anon vp stert,
As he þat was agremed in hert,
& out he drouȝ his swerd of stiel,
& defended him swiþe wel.
Whom þat he rauȝt, ded he fel;
Strong kniȝt he was, hardi & snel.
Þer he defended him asperliche;
Þe Almaunis him asayl hastiliche:
Y-loken he was hem amidwerd,
To him þai launced boþe spere and swerd.
In mani stede wounded is he;
Wele he werþe him þei he sailed be.
When Gij seye þe douke of fot,
For sorwe no wist he no bot;
Wel hardiliche he smot a kniȝt,
Þat ded he feld him anon riȝt.
His swerd of stiel he haþ up pliȝt,
& smot so anoþer kniȝt
Þat asailed þe douke Segin,
Þat heued sone binam him,
& seþþe he sett him his stede opon,
& fast hii asailed her fon;
Þennes nil hii neuer gon
Er hii han slawe mani on.
For sorwe no wist he no bot;
Wel hardiliche he smot a kniȝt,
Þat ded he feld him anon riȝt.
His swerd of stiel he haþ up pliȝt,
& smot so anoþer kniȝt
Þat asailed þe douke Segin,
Þat heued sone binam him,
& seþþe he sett him his stede opon,
& fast hii asailed her fon;
142
Er hii han slawe mani on.
‘Sir douk,’ seyd Gyoun,
‘Vnderstond to mi resoun:
To þe cite oȝain we wil go,
Ful wele we may it now do;
A þousand þer beþ of armed kniȝtes
Þat sone wiþ ous wil holde fiȝtes;
& we here lenger duelle
For foles we schullen ous telle.’
Into her cite þai ben y-gon,
Togider þai asembled hem ichon,
& at þe alours þai defended hem,
& abiden bataile of her fomen.
‘Vnderstond to mi resoun:
To þe cite oȝain we wil go,
Ful wele we may it now do;
A þousand þer beþ of armed kniȝtes
Þat sone wiþ ous wil holde fiȝtes;
& we here lenger duelle
For foles we schullen ous telle.’
Into her cite þai ben y-gon,
Togider þai asembled hem ichon,
& at þe alours þai defended hem,
& abiden bataile of her fomen.
When þemperour y-herd þis,
Þat his sone y-nomen is,
Wiþ loude steuen þan hete he
His folk asayl þat cite
Wiþ schot of bowe and alblast,
Wiþ swerdes, speres schete & cast,
Wiþ laddren steye, þat couþe best.
Þe cite to asail haue þai no rest,
Wiþ stones & mangunels fast to cast:
Þe fair walles al to-dast.
& hii wiþ-in fended hem wele apliȝt,
& hii wiþ-outen ȝeld hem gret fiȝt;
Þe Almayns þat ilke day þere
Wiþ gret sorwe y-slawe were.
Strongliche þai asail þe cite,
Ac þat day noþing no speden he;
At euen þat wiþ-drouȝ hem oȝan.
Þemperour was þer-fore a sori man,
Þat he no miȝt of þat cite spede,
No awreken him for no nede.
Þe cite ich day what niȝt
Þai asailed wiþ gret miȝt;
Ac þe douk, Gij, and Herhaud,
Oft hem makeþ mani asaut,
& miche of his folk þan slouȝ hii,
Wharfore he was in hert sori.
Þat his sone y-nomen is,
Wiþ loude steuen þan hete he
His folk asayl þat cite
Wiþ schot of bowe and alblast,
Wiþ swerdes, speres schete & cast,
Wiþ laddren steye, þat couþe best.
Þe cite to asail haue þai no rest,
Wiþ stones & mangunels fast to cast:
Þe fair walles al to-dast.
& hii wiþ-in fended hem wele apliȝt,
& hii wiþ-outen ȝeld hem gret fiȝt;
Þe Almayns þat ilke day þere
Wiþ gret sorwe y-slawe were.
Strongliche þai asail þe cite,
Ac þat day noþing no speden he;
At euen þat wiþ-drouȝ hem oȝan.
Þemperour was þer-fore a sori man,
Þat he no miȝt of þat cite spede,
No awreken him for no nede.
Þe cite ich day what niȝt
Þai asailed wiþ gret miȝt;
144
Oft hem makeþ mani asaut,
& miche of his folk þan slouȝ hii,
Wharfore he was in hert sori.
Lordinges, listeneþ to me now!
Of a tresoun ichil telle ȝou:
It was opon a somers day,
Þemperour hadde eten, soþ to say;
His huntes he of-sent þo,
& seyd he wald on hunting go
Into þe forest erlike,
Þat þe douk Segyn nouȝt no wite,
No his kniȝtes neuer þe mo.
Þat him herd a spie þo,
Þat out of þat ost dede him fast,
To þe douke Segyn he com an hast.
Of a tresoun ichil telle ȝou:
It was opon a somers day,
Þemperour hadde eten, soþ to say;
His huntes he of-sent þo,
& seyd he wald on hunting go
Into þe forest erlike,
Þat þe douk Segyn nouȝt no wite,
No his kniȝtes neuer þe mo.
Þat him herd a spie þo,
Þat out of þat ost dede him fast,
To þe douke Segyn he com an hast.
Þe douke Segyn oxed him snelle
What newe tidinges he couþe telle:
‘Sir,’ quod [he], ‘herken to me:
Gode tidinges y telle þe,
Þat þemperour, sikerliche,
Wille huntte to morwe arliche
In his forest priueliche
Wiþ litel folk & nouȝt wiþ miche,
Wiþ also litel als he may.
Y no gabbe nouȝt, for soþe to say.’
Þan he hade seyde þus to Segyn,
‘Bi Seyn Richer! leue frende mine,’
Seyd þe douke, ‘and it so be,
An hundred bessauns ȝif y þe.’
Þe spie seyd, ‘soþe y sigge:
My bodi þerfore in ostage y legge.’
What newe tidinges he couþe telle:
‘Sir,’ quod [he], ‘herken to me:
Gode tidinges y telle þe,
Þat þemperour, sikerliche,
Wille huntte to morwe arliche
In his forest priueliche
Wiþ litel folk & nouȝt wiþ miche,
Wiþ also litel als he may.
Y no gabbe nouȝt, for soþe to say.’
Þan he hade seyde þus to Segyn,
‘Bi Seyn Richer! leue frende mine,’
Seyd þe douke, ‘and it so be,
An hundred bessauns ȝif y þe.’
Þe spie seyd, ‘soþe y sigge:
My bodi þerfore in ostage y legge.’
Þan haþ þe douk y-cleped Gij,
& Herhaud of Arderne sikerlij,
Dan Belin, & dan Gauter,
& þe þridde dan Holdimer,
& Joceran þat was of Speyne
(Was non wiser in-to Almayne
A gode conseyl for to ȝiue;
Þer-fore he was michel to leue).
‘Lordinges,’ he seyd, ‘what rede ȝe,
Seþþe þat ȝe be sworn to me?
What is ous best for to done
Of our king Reyner? telle me sone.’
Gij to him answerd snelle,
‘Þe best rede ichil þe telle:
Kniȝtes we schul han a þousinde,
& bi þe morwe, ȝif we him finde,
Ichil him bidde wiþ hert fre
Þat he wil acord wiþ þe,
& þat he cum wiþ þe at ete;
& ȝif he seyþ ouȝt wiþ hete,
Þat he it wil graunt for no þing,
Hider we schul bring þe king.
& þou schalt here bileue now,
Opon þi lord go no schaltow;
Þi palays þou schalt grayþi,
& riche metes diȝt redi.’
& Herhaud of Arderne sikerlij,
Dan Belin, & dan Gauter,
& þe þridde dan Holdimer,
146
(Was non wiser in-to Almayne
A gode conseyl for to ȝiue;
Þer-fore he was michel to leue).
‘Lordinges,’ he seyd, ‘what rede ȝe,
Seþþe þat ȝe be sworn to me?
What is ous best for to done
Of our king Reyner? telle me sone.’
Gij to him answerd snelle,
‘Þe best rede ichil þe telle:
Kniȝtes we schul han a þousinde,
& bi þe morwe, ȝif we him finde,
Ichil him bidde wiþ hert fre
Þat he wil acord wiþ þe,
& þat he cum wiþ þe at ete;
& ȝif he seyþ ouȝt wiþ hete,
Þat he it wil graunt for no þing,
Hider we schul bring þe king.
& þou schalt here bileue now,
Opon þi lord go no schaltow;
Þi palays þou schalt grayþi,
& riche metes diȝt redi.’
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.
‘Sir Emperour,’ seide Segwyn,
‘This daie is come ending myn,
Bot thou haue mercy on me.
At thy wille it shal bee.
No lenger y ne woll thy wrath dryue,
While y am man a-lyue,
Bot oute of this londe y shall goo,
And neuere ayene to come moo.
Here my swerde, thou take it,
And myn hede of thou smyte,
Or what thy wille is, doo by me
(Myn owne Lorde, y woll it so bee)
For the folie that y dude,
Whan y slowe thy neuiew in that stede.’
Than bespake the Emperoures sone
To his fader and seide: ‘sir, of your benesone,
Segwyn is a noble baroun.
Holden he hath vs in prisoun:
To vs he hath bee full kynde,
And to you herafter may bee well helping.
Bot thou foryiue him thy wrath swithe,
Of me thou shalt neuere bee blithe.’
Than seide the Duke Reyner full sone:
‘Sir Segwyn is a noble baron.
Sithe he obeyeth him to thy wille,
Foryiue him thy wrathe, and that is skille,
Of thy neuyew, that he slow by cas;
For in his defence, by god, it was.
And if any woll contrary that y-sey,
Before you to preoue it my gloue y woll ley.
And bot if thou haue of him mercy,
Euer here-after y shalbee thyn enmy.’
Than come forthe sir Gaudemer,
And thus to the Emperour he spake there:
‘Sir, y loue the Duke ouere all thing;
For he vs hath doo grete worshipping,
And sworne brethern we bee two:
And thou hense forewarde him mysdoo,
All my people y shall forsende,
And in-to Coloigne y shall wende:
Thy Castellis and Citees, that been so stronge,
Destroye y shall for thy wronge.
Bot thou mercy of him haue nowe,
All this y shall ayenst thy prowe.’
With that come the Styward forthe:
‘Sir, the Duke is moche worthe,
And grete worship he hath vs doo
(Neuere more yet come vs vnto),
Whan he in bataille vs hath nome,
And you hath thus doo hider come.
Bot thou of him haue the rather mercy,
Euere of me herafter thou shalt failly.’
With that cometh forth Guy
Of Warrewik, the Knyght hardy:
‘Sir, for goddis Loue y bidde the,
On this Duke thou haue mercy and pitee,
And with that y shall your man become
To serue the, Lorde, all and some.’
Tirry is than forthe come,
Of Gormeyse Aubries sone:
‘Sir, on this Duke ye must haue mercy
For loue of thise good men, that stonde you by.
Yf thou haue loste thurgh him
Sadok the hende, that was thy kyn,
In his stede y shall bee,
And with all my might serue the.
Therfor' at an ende y beseche the,
Foryiue him your wrathe with herte free.
And bot ye woll that doo,
Beleue it well withoute wordes moo.’
So longe they haue the Emperour bede,
That he is agreable to their rede.
To theim he seith with herte free:
‘Lordes, barons, herken to me.
Now ye all haue bidden so,
For your loue y shall thus doo,
And for sir Guy, that is englissh,
That so good knyght and curteys is:
All my wrathe y foryiue him
For loue of the soules of my kynn,
And for y him so mylde see.
Vnderstonde nowe and herken to me:
For he me crieth mercy withoute pride,
Mercy he shall haue to his mede.’
‘This daie is come ending myn,
Bot thou haue mercy on me.
At thy wille it shal bee.
No lenger y ne woll thy wrath dryue,
While y am man a-lyue,
Bot oute of this londe y shall goo,
And neuere ayene to come moo.
Here my swerde, thou take it,
And myn hede of thou smyte,
Or what thy wille is, doo by me
(Myn owne Lorde, y woll it so bee)
For the folie that y dude,
Whan y slowe thy neuiew in that stede.’
Than bespake the Emperoures sone
To his fader and seide: ‘sir, of your benesone,
Segwyn is a noble baroun.
Holden he hath vs in prisoun:
To vs he hath bee full kynde,
And to you herafter may bee well helping.
Bot thou foryiue him thy wrath swithe,
Of me thou shalt neuere bee blithe.’
Than seide the Duke Reyner full sone:
‘Sir Segwyn is a noble baron.
Sithe he obeyeth him to thy wille,
Foryiue him thy wrathe, and that is skille,
Of thy neuyew, that he slow by cas;
For in his defence, by god, it was.
157
Before you to preoue it my gloue y woll ley.
And bot if thou haue of him mercy,
Euer here-after y shalbee thyn enmy.’
Than come forthe sir Gaudemer,
And thus to the Emperour he spake there:
‘Sir, y loue the Duke ouere all thing;
For he vs hath doo grete worshipping,
And sworne brethern we bee two:
And thou hense forewarde him mysdoo,
All my people y shall forsende,
And in-to Coloigne y shall wende:
Thy Castellis and Citees, that been so stronge,
Destroye y shall for thy wronge.
Bot thou mercy of him haue nowe,
All this y shall ayenst thy prowe.’
With that come the Styward forthe:
‘Sir, the Duke is moche worthe,
And grete worship he hath vs doo
(Neuere more yet come vs vnto),
Whan he in bataille vs hath nome,
And you hath thus doo hider come.
Bot thou of him haue the rather mercy,
Euere of me herafter thou shalt failly.’
With that cometh forth Guy
Of Warrewik, the Knyght hardy:
‘Sir, for goddis Loue y bidde the,
On this Duke thou haue mercy and pitee,
And with that y shall your man become
To serue the, Lorde, all and some.’
Tirry is than forthe come,
Of Gormeyse Aubries sone:
‘Sir, on this Duke ye must haue mercy
For loue of thise good men, that stonde you by.
Yf thou haue loste thurgh him
Sadok the hende, that was thy kyn,
159
And with all my might serue the.
Therfor' at an ende y beseche the,
Foryiue him your wrathe with herte free.
And bot ye woll that doo,
Beleue it well withoute wordes moo.’
So longe they haue the Emperour bede,
That he is agreable to their rede.
To theim he seith with herte free:
‘Lordes, barons, herken to me.
Now ye all haue bidden so,
For your loue y shall thus doo,
And for sir Guy, that is englissh,
That so good knyght and curteys is:
All my wrathe y foryiue him
For loue of the soules of my kynn,
And for y him so mylde see.
Vnderstonde nowe and herken to me:
For he me crieth mercy withoute pride,
Mercy he shall haue to his mede.’
‘Sir emperour, wat hastow do?
Is þe acord made bitven ȝou to?
Astow þe douke Segyn y-kist,
Þe strong traitour & vnwrest?
& haþ for-ȝif al in loue
Sadok deþ, þi suster sone?
Þat þe wil dred, say me on;
Þe misdo þai willen ichon;
When her wretþe and her gilt
So liȝtliche for-ȝif þou wilt,
Hennes forward wil þe dred non,
Schame anouȝ þai wil þe don;
& ȝif þou haddest þe douk anhong,
In þi lond men wold þe dred strong,
& þan after-ward þe treytour Gij,
Þat neuer dede ous bot vilayni.
Ac now þai worþ wiþ þe priue,
& better þan alle we.
& topen al þis, ȝif Gij wer ded,
We miȝten haue þe lesse dred.’
Is þe acord made bitven ȝou to?
Astow þe douke Segyn y-kist,
Þe strong traitour & vnwrest?
& haþ for-ȝif al in loue
Sadok deþ, þi suster sone?
Þat þe wil dred, say me on;
Þe misdo þai willen ichon;
When her wretþe and her gilt
So liȝtliche for-ȝif þou wilt,
Hennes forward wil þe dred non,
Schame anouȝ þai wil þe don;
& ȝif þou haddest þe douk anhong,
In þi lond men wold þe dred strong,
& þan after-ward þe treytour Gij,
Þat neuer dede ous bot vilayni.
160
& better þan alle we.
& topen al þis, ȝif Gij wer ded,
We miȝten haue þe lesse dred.’
When Gij herd Otus speke so,
Als a wilde bore he lepe him to:
‘Otus!’ quaþ Gij, ‘þou schalt daye,
When þou of tresoun clepes ous baye,
Boþe Segyn & eke me:
Þou it schal abie, bi mi leute!’
Him he smot wiþ his fest
Amide the teþ, riȝt al in ernest.
Ac þe barouns bitvene hem goþ,
& þemperour swore his oþ,
Ȝif ani þer were so hardy
Þat dede oþer schame oþer vilanie,
Bren men him scholde, oþer to-hewe,
Oþer al to-hewe at wordes fewe.
Þan doþ þai crie þurch þe cuntraye,
Þat of þo wordes no man schuld saye;
‘& ȝif þer doþ, wiþ-outen no,
Hond oþer fot he schal for-go.’
Als a wilde bore he lepe him to:
‘Otus!’ quaþ Gij, ‘þou schalt daye,
When þou of tresoun clepes ous baye,
Boþe Segyn & eke me:
Þou it schal abie, bi mi leute!’
Him he smot wiþ his fest
Amide the teþ, riȝt al in ernest.
Ac þe barouns bitvene hem goþ,
& þemperour swore his oþ,
Ȝif ani þer were so hardy
Þat dede oþer schame oþer vilanie,
Bren men him scholde, oþer to-hewe,
Oþer al to-hewe at wordes fewe.
Þan doþ þai crie þurch þe cuntraye,
Þat of þo wordes no man schuld saye;
‘& ȝif þer doþ, wiþ-outen no,
Hond oþer fot he schal for-go.’
Than seyd þemperour on þis maner
To þe douke Segyn oforn hem þer:
‘Sir douke, ichil loue þe:
Wiif þou schalt haue bi me.
A feir soster ich haue in mi bour
Ichil þe ȝif,’ quaþ þemperour:
‘Erneborwe hat þat may.’
Anon he hir spoused þat day.
Þe bridale was holden wiþ game, y pliȝt.
Neuer ȝet nas non fairer in siȝt.
He loued hir, & worþ-schiped swiþe:
To his cite he ladde hir siþe,
He and Ernneborwe his leuedi
Þer hii wold soiornij.
Anon after þe tende day
Of her soiourn, soþe to say,
To þe douke Segyn oforn hem þer:
‘Sir douke, ichil loue þe:
Wiif þou schalt haue bi me.
A feir soster ich haue in mi bour
Ichil þe ȝif,’ quaþ þemperour:
‘Erneborwe hat þat may.’
Anon he hir spoused þat day.
Þe bridale was holden wiþ game, y pliȝt.
Neuer ȝet nas non fairer in siȝt.
He loued hir, & worþ-schiped swiþe:
To his cite he ladde hir siþe,
He and Ernneborwe his leuedi
Þer hii wold soiornij.
162
Of her soiourn, soþe to say,
Gij is to þe douke y-go,
& at him asked leue þo:
‘Sir douk,’ he seyd, ‘gon ich-ille,
In þis cuntre bileue y nille.
In wer ich haue serued þe:
Ȝif þou haue euer eft nede to me,
After me þou sende sikerliche,
& ich com to þe hastiliche.’
‘Sir,’ quaþ þe douk, ‘gramerci!
Ȝete haue y nouȝt serued þe, sir Gij.
Here, ich bid þe, bileue wiþ me:
Half mine castels, & half mi cite,
Þe worþschip of Lowayn haluen-del,
Ich it þe graunt, Gij, fair & wel.’
Gij tok his leue; oway went he:
Þe douke wepe sore, & hadde pite.
Þemperour þat was so fre,
Wiþ him Gij þan ladde he;
Castels him bede, & cites,
Gret worþschip, & riche fes,
Ac he þerof nold afo,
For noþing þat he miȝt do.
To Almayn went ben he,
To Espire þat riche cite.
& at him asked leue þo:
‘Sir douk,’ he seyd, ‘gon ich-ille,
In þis cuntre bileue y nille.
In wer ich haue serued þe:
Ȝif þou haue euer eft nede to me,
After me þou sende sikerliche,
& ich com to þe hastiliche.’
‘Sir,’ quaþ þe douk, ‘gramerci!
Ȝete haue y nouȝt serued þe, sir Gij.
Here, ich bid þe, bileue wiþ me:
Half mine castels, & half mi cite,
Þe worþschip of Lowayn haluen-del,
Ich it þe graunt, Gij, fair & wel.’
Gij tok his leue; oway went he:
Þe douke wepe sore, & hadde pite.
Þemperour þat was so fre,
Wiþ him Gij þan ladde he;
Castels him bede, & cites,
Gret worþschip, & riche fes,
Ac he þerof nold afo,
For noþing þat he miȝt do.
To Almayn went ben he,
To Espire þat riche cite.
Þemperour worþschiped Gij þe fre;
A while wiþ him bileft he.
To pleyn hem þai went bi riuer
Þat of wilde foule ful were;
To her wille an hunting hij gos,
To chace þe hert & þe ros.
On a day as he cam fram hunting
A dromond he seye ariueing.
Þider-ward sir Gij is y-gon,
& gret þe marchandes euerichon.
‘Lordinges, whennes com ȝe,
Þat in þis riuer ariued be?
Bi ȝour semblant y se, y-wisse,
Þat ȝe ledde gret richesse.’
Among hem alle þer spac on,
Þat couþe speke for hem euerichon:
‘Fram Costentine þe noble y-comen we be:
Lond of peys þan seche we.
Marchandes we ben of þat lond,
& out y-driuen wiþ michel wrong:
Out of Coyne þe riche soudan,
So prout he is, & of so gret boban,
Þat wiþ .xv. heþen kinges,
& þritti emeraus, wiþ-outen lesinges,
A while wiþ him bileft he.
To pleyn hem þai went bi riuer
Þat of wilde foule ful were;
To her wille an hunting hij gos,
To chace þe hert & þe ros.
On a day as he cam fram hunting
A dromond he seye ariueing.
Þider-ward sir Gij is y-gon,
& gret þe marchandes euerichon.
164
Þat in þis riuer ariued be?
Bi ȝour semblant y se, y-wisse,
Þat ȝe ledde gret richesse.’
Among hem alle þer spac on,
Þat couþe speke for hem euerichon:
‘Fram Costentine þe noble y-comen we be:
Lond of peys þan seche we.
Marchandes we ben of þat lond,
& out y-driuen wiþ michel wrong:
Out of Coyne þe riche soudan,
So prout he is, & of so gret boban,
Þat wiþ .xv. heþen kinges,
& þritti emeraus, wiþ-outen lesinges,
In Costentyn þe noble emperour Ernis
Þai han strongliche bisett, y-wis.
Castel no cite nis him non bileued,
Þat altogider þai han to-dreued,
& for-brant, & strued, y-wis.
Into Costentyn flowen he is;
Þer he werþ him oȝaines his fon,
Þat secheþ on him for to slon.
Þritti mile men may riden & gon,
Ne schal men finde man non;
& we ben aschaped vnneþe,
Þat we no were to-hewen to deþe.
Y-comen we ben into þis cuntre:
Fowe & griis anouȝ lade we,
Gold and siluer, & riche stones,
Þat vertu bere mani for þe nones,
Gode cloþes of sikelatoun & Alisaundrinis,
Peloure of Matre, & pu[r]per & biis,
To ȝour wille as ȝe may se;
Swiche be þe tidinges of þat cuntre.’
Gij answerd, ‘mi frende fre,
For ȝour tidinges blisced ȝe be!
God, for his name seuene,
He bring ȝou to gode heuene!’
When þe marchaundes hadde seyd as y say,
Þai han strongliche bisett, y-wis.
Castel no cite nis him non bileued,
Þat altogider þai han to-dreued,
& for-brant, & strued, y-wis.
Into Costentyn flowen he is;
Þer he werþ him oȝaines his fon,
Þat secheþ on him for to slon.
Þritti mile men may riden & gon,
Ne schal men finde man non;
& we ben aschaped vnneþe,
Þat we no were to-hewen to deþe.
Y-comen we ben into þis cuntre:
Fowe & griis anouȝ lade we,
Gold and siluer, & riche stones,
Þat vertu bere mani for þe nones,
Gode cloþes of sikelatoun & Alisaundrinis,
Peloure of Matre, & pu[r]per & biis,
To ȝour wille as ȝe may se;
Swiche be þe tidinges of þat cuntre.’
Gij answerd, ‘mi frende fre,
For ȝour tidinges blisced ȝe be!
166
He bring ȝou to gode heuene!’
Gij bitauȝt hem god & gode day.
Vnto his in he is y-go,
And Herhaud he cleped anon him to.
‘Herhaud, mi frende, wille we gon?
At þemperour take we leue anon.
Into Costentyn-noble ichil go
To help þemperour of his wo:
Þat wiþ þe soudan biseged is he,
So siggeþ men of þat cuntre;
Þat lond destrud & men aqueld,
& cristendom þai han michel afeld.’
Herhaud answerd, ‘y graunt it be:
Miche worþschipe it worþ to þe.’
At þemperour þai toke leue to go,
& he hem graunted vnneþe þo;
Anouȝ he bedeþ hem castels & tours,
Riche cites, halles, & bours.
Sir Gij toke an hundred of his kniȝtes,
Strongest and best in fiȝtes,
Þat he miȝt in Almayne finde,
Mest y-preised & best doinde.
Now þai ben to schippe y-went:
Gode winde god haþ hem lent.
To Costentyn-noble þai ben y-come,
& in þe cite her in y-nome.
Ac when þemperour wist atte frome
Þat Gij of Warwike was y-come,
Tvay erls he dede after him go,
& loueliche he bad hem com him to.
& sir Gij him goþ to þemperour fre:
‘Welcome, sir Gij,’ þan seyd he.
‘Of þine help gret nede haue we.
Michel ich haue herd speke of þe.
Mine men ben sleyn in þis tide,
& mi lond destrud in ich a side:
Al bot þis ich selue cite
Destrud & brent hauen he.
Fourti þousand þai slowe on a day
Of mine men, as ich ȝou telle may.
Mine men þai slowe, mi sone also,
Wharfore, leue frende, y bede þe to,
Ȝif þou miȝt me of hem wreke,
& þe felouns out of mi lond do reke,
Mine feyr douhter þou schalt habbe,
& half mi lond, wiþ-outen gabbe.’
Þan answerd anon sir Gij,
‘Sir,’ he seyd, ‘gramercij!
& y þe sigge, bi mi leute,
Þat treweliche ichil serue þe
Al þe while þat ich wiþ þe be:
Þerof, sir, þou miȝt leue me.’
At þemperour he toke leue anon,
Vnto his in he gan to gon.
Noyse & cri he herd in þat cite:
He gan oxy what it miȝt be.
He hem oxed what it were,
& what was al þat noise þere.
So mani kniȝtes he seye to armes go,
So mani seriaunce steye to kernels þo.
‘Sir,’ quaþ a burieys, ‘bi seyn Martin,
It beþ þe liþer Sarrazin:
It is þe amiral Costdram,
Þe nevou of þe riche soudan.
So strong he is, & of so gret miȝt,
In world y wene no better kniȝt;
For þer nis man no kniȝt non
Þat wiþ wretþe dar loken him on.
His armes alle avenimed beþ:
Þat venim is strong so þe deþ:
In þis world nis man þat he take miȝt
Þat he ne schuld dye anon riȝt.
Þat oþer day he dede ous sorwe anouȝ
Of þemperour sone þat he slouȝ,
Þat was so gode and stalworþ kniȝt,
Þat opon hem had ȝeuen mani fiȝt.
In þis cite so gode kniȝt was non,
Þat with wretþe durst loke him on.
Comen he is wiþ grete cheualrie,
& wiþ him þe riche king of Turkye
Wiþ an hundred Turkes strong:
Beþ non better in non lond.’
Þat Gij of Warwike was y-come,
Tvay erls he dede after him go,
& loueliche he bad hem com him to.
& sir Gij him goþ to þemperour fre:
‘Welcome, sir Gij,’ þan seyd he.
‘Of þine help gret nede haue we.
Michel ich haue herd speke of þe.
168
& mi lond destrud in ich a side:
Al bot þis ich selue cite
Destrud & brent hauen he.
Fourti þousand þai slowe on a day
Of mine men, as ich ȝou telle may.
Mine men þai slowe, mi sone also,
Wharfore, leue frende, y bede þe to,
Ȝif þou miȝt me of hem wreke,
& þe felouns out of mi lond do reke,
Mine feyr douhter þou schalt habbe,
& half mi lond, wiþ-outen gabbe.’
Þan answerd anon sir Gij,
‘Sir,’ he seyd, ‘gramercij!
& y þe sigge, bi mi leute,
Þat treweliche ichil serue þe
Al þe while þat ich wiþ þe be:
Þerof, sir, þou miȝt leue me.’
At þemperour he toke leue anon,
Vnto his in he gan to gon.
Noyse & cri he herd in þat cite:
He gan oxy what it miȝt be.
He hem oxed what it were,
& what was al þat noise þere.
So mani kniȝtes he seye to armes go,
So mani seriaunce steye to kernels þo.
‘Sir,’ quaþ a burieys, ‘bi seyn Martin,
It beþ þe liþer Sarrazin:
It is þe amiral Costdram,
Þe nevou of þe riche soudan.
So strong he is, & of so gret miȝt,
In world y wene no better kniȝt;
For þer nis man no kniȝt non
Þat wiþ wretþe dar loken him on.
His armes alle avenimed beþ:
Þat venim is strong so þe deþ:
170
Þat he ne schuld dye anon riȝt.
Þat oþer day he dede ous sorwe anouȝ
Of þemperour sone þat he slouȝ,
Þat was so gode and stalworþ kniȝt,
Þat opon hem had ȝeuen mani fiȝt.
In þis cite so gode kniȝt was non,
Þat with wretþe durst loke him on.
Comen he is wiþ grete cheualrie,
& wiþ him þe riche king of Turkye
Wiþ an hundred Turkes strong:
Beþ non better in non lond.’
& when sir Gij herd þis
Þat his ost seyd to him, y-wis,
To his felawes he seyd anon,
‘To armes,’ he seyd, ‘euerichon!
Þe Sarrazins we willen agast.
For godes loue, smiteþ on fast!’
Hastiliche y-armed hij beþ,
Opon her stedes as foule þai fleþ.
Forþ þai went & on hem smite
Wiþ her swerdes þat wil wel bite.
Gij to þe amiral smot so,
Scheld no hauberk nas him worþ a slo:
Þurch þe body he ȝaf him wounde,
& dede he feld him on þe grounde.
Sir Gij his gode swerd out drouȝ,
Þat heued fram þe bodi he slouȝ.
To þemperour he it haþ y-sent,
Þat wel glad was of þat present.
Þat his ost seyd to him, y-wis,
To his felawes he seyd anon,
‘To armes,’ he seyd, ‘euerichon!
Þe Sarrazins we willen agast.
For godes loue, smiteþ on fast!’
Hastiliche y-armed hij beþ,
Opon her stedes as foule þai fleþ.
Forþ þai went & on hem smite
Wiþ her swerdes þat wil wel bite.
Gij to þe amiral smot so,
Scheld no hauberk nas him worþ a slo:
Þurch þe body he ȝaf him wounde,
& dede he feld him on þe grounde.
Sir Gij his gode swerd out drouȝ,
Þat heued fram þe bodi he slouȝ.
To þemperour he it haþ y-sent,
Þat wel glad was of þat present.
Herhaud smot þe king of Turkie
(Was non feller into Surrie):
Þurch þe bodi he him smot,
Ded he feld him doun fot hot.
Wiþ þat com Tebaud prikeinde,
In Fraunce y-bore, a kniȝt wel kinde:
Wiþ swiche strengþe he smot Helmadan,
Al was nouȝt worþ he hadde opan.
Þurch his bodi þe launce glod;
Ded he fel wiþ-outen a-bod.
Gauter come prikeing anon riȝt,
Of Almayne a wel gode kniȝt.
Heteliche he smot Redmadan
(Ȝe no haue herd speke of no swiche man):
Þe bodi atvo he haþ to-deled,
Þat he fel doun in þe feld.
Wiþ þat come sir Morgadour,
Þat was steward wiþ þemperour.
Kniȝt he was gode & hardi,
Ac traitour he was, ful of envie.
He smot vnto a Sarrazin,
No halp him nouȝt his Apolin.
Now þai smitte togider comonliche,
& fiȝt þai agin ardiliche.
Þer men miȝt se Gij smite,
& þe Sarrazins heuedes of strike,
& wiþ him Herhaud also:
Boþe þai strengþed hem wele to do.
Þe Sarrazins þai strengþed hem for to sle,
To-hewen, & iuel to bise.
Þe Sarrazins hem ȝeld gret fiȝt,
For strong þai ben, & of gret miȝt.
Wiþ þat come Esclandar prikeinde,
A Sarrazin & of foule kinde,
Þe kinges sone of Birrie,
Strong he was for þe maistrie.
Dan Tebaud he felled þo,
Þurch þe bodi he dede þe launce go;
& seþþe he slouȝ a Freyns kniȝt,
In Bleyues he was born ariȝt.
Romiraunt com forþ snelle,
A Sarrazin a strong wiþ elle,
Y-slawe he haþ dan Guinman,
A strong kniȝt he was & an Aleman.
Wiþ þat come forþ an amireld,
A Sarrazin of wicked erd,
Dan Gauter he haþ y-slawe,
& gode Gilmin his felawe.
When Herhaud þat of-seye þo,
In his hert him was ful wo;
An amiral he smot so,
Ded he feld him an hast þo,
& mani anoþer he haþ aqueld,
& adoun feld in þe feld.
Sone so Esclandar y-seye þis,
To awreke þe amiral lef him is.
To Herhaud he smot heteliche,
& he him mett hardiliche;
Heteliche þai smiten togider þo,
Þat of her hors þai fellen bo.
Seþþen þai drouȝ her brondes of stiel,
& smiten togider hard & wel,
To-hewe hauberk & scheldes also,
Gode bodis þai ben boþe to.
Of her helmes þe flours gan fle,
So heteliche togider smiten he.
Herhaud goþ him driueand fast,
His heued to smiten of on hast.
Ac so gret socour him com þer,
An hundred Turkes & her pouer;
Herhaud þai gin alle asaile,
& neye hadde slain him in þat bataile,
No hadde Gij þat y-seye, þat was sorij;
Hastiliche he com him to socourey.
His gode brond þan drouȝ he,
Þe heued of a Sarrazin he dede of fle,
& anoþer he dede also;
Þe þridde to deþ he dede do.
Herhaud he socourd in þat nede,
& dede him lepe opon his stede.
Þe Sarrazins anon gun þai mete,
Mani on þer her liif þai lete,
Mani on þer dyed in aiþer side,
Ac þe Sarrazins wers gan bi-tide.
Sir Gij & alle his feren,
Þe Griffouns þat gode weren,
Han ouer-comen & aqueld;
To-hewen þai leyen in the feld.
Toward her ost þai ben fleinge,
& Gij hem after fast folweinge;
Ar hij þe doun were ouer gon,
Y-slawe hij ben & to-hewen ichon.
Esclandar is oway fleinde,
Ouer þe dounes fast erninde,
& al to-broken his scheld is,
His helme al to-dassched, y-wis.
Gij it of-þouȝt when he it seye,
Þat he so liȝteliche oway fleye:
‘Esclandar,’ seyd Gij, ‘wende oȝain to me,
& forsoþe al siker þou be;
Drede þe of no noþer þan of me,
Ones to iusti ich oxi of þe.’
Esclandar seyd, ‘artow Gij?
Ich þe defende sikerly.
Bi Mahoun þat ich leue opon,
Neuer no schal ich oway gon,
No neuer schal y bliþe be,
Til ich þat heued binim þe;
Bihoten ich it haue a maiden of pris,
Þe soudans douhter þat wel fair is.’
Her steden þai turned snelle,
& to-gider þai smiten wiþ gode wille;
Esclandar first smot Gij
Þurch þe scheld as kniȝt hardi;
Gij smot him anon riȝt,
Scheld no hauberk halp him no wiȝt;
He smot him þurch at þat chaunce
Þurch þe bodi wiþ his launce.
Esclandar fleye forþ a wel gode pas,
Sir Gij of-toke him nouȝt, þerfor wo him was;
To his felawes he is y-go,
Riȝt to þe cite he ȝede him þo.
Þe Sarrazins were ouer-come,
Þerfore þai were bliþe, all and some.
Þemperour of-sent Gij him to,
& miche honour he haþ him do.
‘Gij,’ quaþ he, ‘þou art me dere,
Þou schalt bileue wiþ me here:
Mi feir douhter, þat is of pris,
Ichil þe ȝiue to spouse y-wis;
Þou schalt ben emperour after me,
Þou art a kniȝt of gret bounte.
Al þo þat ben to me serueinde,
Ichil þai be to þe boweinde.’
‘Gramerci,’ seyd sir Gij anon;
‘A fair ȝift is þis now on.’
Þe steward come forþ bliue,
More treytour nas non oliue;
His name was hoten Morgadour,
God ȝif him euel auentour!
Toward Gij he bar gret ond,
& seþþe he died þurch his hond.
Quaþ Morgadour, ‘sir, þat wil wele be,
For Gij is curteys, gentil, & fre;
When he schal þi douhter spousy,
Riȝt is þat we him onoury.’
Ac what so he seyd bifor Gij þo,
Ȝif he may, to deþ he wille him do.
Esclandar went oway fleinde,
(Was non feller into Surrie):
Þurch þe bodi he him smot,
Ded he feld him doun fot hot.
Wiþ þat com Tebaud prikeinde,
In Fraunce y-bore, a kniȝt wel kinde:
172
Al was nouȝt worþ he hadde opan.
Þurch his bodi þe launce glod;
Ded he fel wiþ-outen a-bod.
Gauter come prikeing anon riȝt,
Of Almayne a wel gode kniȝt.
Heteliche he smot Redmadan
(Ȝe no haue herd speke of no swiche man):
Þe bodi atvo he haþ to-deled,
Þat he fel doun in þe feld.
Wiþ þat come sir Morgadour,
Þat was steward wiþ þemperour.
Kniȝt he was gode & hardi,
Ac traitour he was, ful of envie.
He smot vnto a Sarrazin,
No halp him nouȝt his Apolin.
Now þai smitte togider comonliche,
& fiȝt þai agin ardiliche.
Þer men miȝt se Gij smite,
& þe Sarrazins heuedes of strike,
& wiþ him Herhaud also:
Boþe þai strengþed hem wele to do.
Þe Sarrazins þai strengþed hem for to sle,
To-hewen, & iuel to bise.
Þe Sarrazins hem ȝeld gret fiȝt,
For strong þai ben, & of gret miȝt.
Wiþ þat come Esclandar prikeinde,
A Sarrazin & of foule kinde,
Þe kinges sone of Birrie,
Strong he was for þe maistrie.
Dan Tebaud he felled þo,
Þurch þe bodi he dede þe launce go;
& seþþe he slouȝ a Freyns kniȝt,
In Bleyues he was born ariȝt.
Romiraunt com forþ snelle,
A Sarrazin a strong wiþ elle,
174
A strong kniȝt he was & an Aleman.
Wiþ þat come forþ an amireld,
A Sarrazin of wicked erd,
Dan Gauter he haþ y-slawe,
& gode Gilmin his felawe.
When Herhaud þat of-seye þo,
In his hert him was ful wo;
An amiral he smot so,
Ded he feld him an hast þo,
& mani anoþer he haþ aqueld,
& adoun feld in þe feld.
Sone so Esclandar y-seye þis,
To awreke þe amiral lef him is.
To Herhaud he smot heteliche,
& he him mett hardiliche;
Heteliche þai smiten togider þo,
Þat of her hors þai fellen bo.
Seþþen þai drouȝ her brondes of stiel,
& smiten togider hard & wel,
To-hewe hauberk & scheldes also,
Gode bodis þai ben boþe to.
Of her helmes þe flours gan fle,
So heteliche togider smiten he.
Herhaud goþ him driueand fast,
His heued to smiten of on hast.
Ac so gret socour him com þer,
An hundred Turkes & her pouer;
Herhaud þai gin alle asaile,
& neye hadde slain him in þat bataile,
No hadde Gij þat y-seye, þat was sorij;
Hastiliche he com him to socourey.
His gode brond þan drouȝ he,
Þe heued of a Sarrazin he dede of fle,
& anoþer he dede also;
Þe þridde to deþ he dede do.
176
& dede him lepe opon his stede.
Þe Sarrazins anon gun þai mete,
Mani on þer her liif þai lete,
Mani on þer dyed in aiþer side,
Ac þe Sarrazins wers gan bi-tide.
Sir Gij & alle his feren,
Þe Griffouns þat gode weren,
Han ouer-comen & aqueld;
To-hewen þai leyen in the feld.
Toward her ost þai ben fleinge,
& Gij hem after fast folweinge;
Ar hij þe doun were ouer gon,
Y-slawe hij ben & to-hewen ichon.
Esclandar is oway fleinde,
Ouer þe dounes fast erninde,
& al to-broken his scheld is,
His helme al to-dassched, y-wis.
Gij it of-þouȝt when he it seye,
Þat he so liȝteliche oway fleye:
‘Esclandar,’ seyd Gij, ‘wende oȝain to me,
& forsoþe al siker þou be;
Drede þe of no noþer þan of me,
Ones to iusti ich oxi of þe.’
Esclandar seyd, ‘artow Gij?
Ich þe defende sikerly.
Bi Mahoun þat ich leue opon,
Neuer no schal ich oway gon,
No neuer schal y bliþe be,
Til ich þat heued binim þe;
Bihoten ich it haue a maiden of pris,
Þe soudans douhter þat wel fair is.’
Her steden þai turned snelle,
& to-gider þai smiten wiþ gode wille;
Esclandar first smot Gij
Þurch þe scheld as kniȝt hardi;
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Scheld no hauberk halp him no wiȝt;
He smot him þurch at þat chaunce
Þurch þe bodi wiþ his launce.
Esclandar fleye forþ a wel gode pas,
Sir Gij of-toke him nouȝt, þerfor wo him was;
To his felawes he is y-go,
Riȝt to þe cite he ȝede him þo.
Þe Sarrazins were ouer-come,
Þerfore þai were bliþe, all and some.
Þemperour of-sent Gij him to,
& miche honour he haþ him do.
‘Gij,’ quaþ he, ‘þou art me dere,
Þou schalt bileue wiþ me here:
Mi feir douhter, þat is of pris,
Ichil þe ȝiue to spouse y-wis;
Þou schalt ben emperour after me,
Þou art a kniȝt of gret bounte.
Al þo þat ben to me serueinde,
Ichil þai be to þe boweinde.’
‘Gramerci,’ seyd sir Gij anon;
‘A fair ȝift is þis now on.’
Þe steward come forþ bliue,
More treytour nas non oliue;
His name was hoten Morgadour,
God ȝif him euel auentour!
Toward Gij he bar gret ond,
& seþþe he died þurch his hond.
Quaþ Morgadour, ‘sir, þat wil wele be,
For Gij is curteys, gentil, & fre;
When he schal þi douhter spousy,
Riȝt is þat we him onoury.’
Ac what so he seyd bifor Gij þo,
Ȝif he may, to deþ he wille him do.
Toward her ost fast prikeinde;
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Wiþ boþe honden he held him to þe arsoun.
Boþe bifore & eke bihinde,
Þe blod gan out fast winde,
His helme in þe on half honginde,
& his visage al bledeinde.
His scheld to held hadde he no miȝt,
He drad him to dye anon riȝt.
To þe soudans pauiloun he come,
Þe soudan him bi-knewe anon:
‘Esclandar, when comestow?’ seyd he;
‘In strong fiȝt þou hast y-be.
Were þou alon at þe cite?
Say me who haþ þus wounded þe?’
‘Sir,’ quaþ he, ‘ichil þe telle
Of hard tidinges wel snelle:
Y-lorn þou hast þe amiral Cosdram
Þat leuest þe was of ani man,
& þe king of Turkie þou hast forgon,
Of hem no tit þe neuer help non.
& alle þe best men y-bore
Bifor þe cite þou hast forlore.’
Þan answerd þe riche soudan,
Þat hadde no gamen of þan:
‘Him is þan sum socour y-come,
Whar-þurch mi Turkes be me binome?’
‘Sir,’ quaþe Esclandar, ‘y-wis,
An onwrast gome y-comen þer is;
Socour he haþ gret & beld,
In þe warld nis swiche a scheld;
Gij of Warwike his name it is,
Sterner þan ani lyoun, y-wis.
His strokes no may noman dreye,
Þat he ne most dye on hye.
Wiþ him he haþ an hundred kniȝtes
Of Almayne, þe best in fiȝtes;
Þurch þe bodi þus me he smot,
Dede ich am, wele y wot.’
Þat hadde no gamen of þan:
‘Him is þan sum socour y-come,
Whar-þurch mi Turkes be me binome?’
‘Sir,’ quaþe Esclandar, ‘y-wis,
An onwrast gome y-comen þer is;
Socour he haþ gret & beld,
In þe warld nis swiche a scheld;
Gij of Warwike his name it is,
Sterner þan ani lyoun, y-wis.
His strokes no may noman dreye,
Þat he ne most dye on hye.
Wiþ him he haþ an hundred kniȝtes
Of Almayne, þe best in fiȝtes;
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Dede ich am, wele y wot.’
Þan swore a gret oþ þe soudan
Bi Mahoun þat he leued opan,
Þat neuer glad no worþ he
What he haue y-nome þat cite;
For asayle he it wille do
Ar þe þridde day be ago.
Anon a spie it herd þis,
Þat to Gij it nold for-hele y-wis.
Sone he com to þe cite;
Al þis to Gij þan teld he,
Þat þe soudan wiþ his men elle
Þe cite wil aseyle snelle.
Ac þemperour wist þer-of nouȝt
Þat so strong tiding þer were y-brouȝt.
Ac when he wist þe soþe herof,
Ernist him þouȝt, & no scof.
Bi Mahoun þat he leued opan,
Þat neuer glad no worþ he
What he haue y-nome þat cite;
For asayle he it wille do
Ar þe þridde day be ago.
Anon a spie it herd þis,
Þat to Gij it nold for-hele y-wis.
Sone he com to þe cite;
Al þis to Gij þan teld he,
Þat þe soudan wiþ his men elle
Þe cite wil aseyle snelle.
Ac þemperour wist þer-of nouȝt
Þat so strong tiding þer were y-brouȝt.
Ac when he wist þe soþe herof,
Ernist him þouȝt, & no scof.
Þemperour made him bliþe þo
Þat ouer-comen weren his fo,
& Gij to þemperour is y-go,
& swiþe feyr he gret him þo.
‘Sir,’ quaþ he, ‘be bliþe & glad;
Gode tidinges me haþ ben seyd.’
Þemperour of-sent his foules þo,
Oscuriis, faucouns, & ierfaukes also;
Gon he wil to þe riuer,
Him to solas & play þer.
Seþþe he of-sent of his Gregeys,
Þat gode weren & curteys.
To þe riuer þai ben y-gon
Wher foules were mani on.
Wiþ þat come forþ sir Morgadour,
Þat steward was wiþ þemperour,
& seyd to Gij, ‘mi frende dere,
Y þe loue in gode manere.’
Ac alle þat he seyd, Gij to bitraye,
Þat was wele sen in his last daye.
Non no may so wele tresoun do
So may he þat his trust is to.
Ȝete seyd to him Morgadour,
‘Castels ich haue, & mani feir tour,
Riche cites, & ful strong,
To þine wille þou hem afong;
Michel y desire þi loue to haue.
Go we togider wiþ game & plawe:
Into þe chaumber go we baye,
Among þe maidens for to playe;
At tables to pleye, & at ches;
Wele we may don it y-wis
Bifor þi leman Clarice so fre,
Þemperours douhter briȝt of ble.
& lete we þemperour to wode go,
To chace þe hert & þe ro.’
‘Sir,’ quaþ Gij, ‘wille we go?
Þat ouer-comen weren his fo,
& Gij to þemperour is y-go,
& swiþe feyr he gret him þo.
‘Sir,’ quaþ he, ‘be bliþe & glad;
Gode tidinges me haþ ben seyd.’
Þemperour of-sent his foules þo,
Oscuriis, faucouns, & ierfaukes also;
Gon he wil to þe riuer,
Him to solas & play þer.
Seþþe he of-sent of his Gregeys,
Þat gode weren & curteys.
To þe riuer þai ben y-gon
Wher foules were mani on.
Wiþ þat come forþ sir Morgadour,
Þat steward was wiþ þemperour,
& seyd to Gij, ‘mi frende dere,
Y þe loue in gode manere.’
184
Þat was wele sen in his last daye.
Non no may so wele tresoun do
So may he þat his trust is to.
Ȝete seyd to him Morgadour,
‘Castels ich haue, & mani feir tour,
Riche cites, & ful strong,
To þine wille þou hem afong;
Michel y desire þi loue to haue.
Go we togider wiþ game & plawe:
Into þe chaumber go we baye,
Among þe maidens for to playe;
At tables to pleye, & at ches;
Wele we may don it y-wis
Bifor þi leman Clarice so fre,
Þemperours douhter briȝt of ble.
& lete we þemperour to wode go,
To chace þe hert & þe ro.’
When þou it wilt, it schal be do.’
Into þe chaumber þai ȝede þo
Hond in hond y-fere bo.
To þe mayden þai come wel sket,
Þat curteysliche hem haþ y-gret.
‘Sir Gij,’ sche seyd, ‘welcome þou be!
Cum sitt & pleye þe here wiþ me.’
He toke þe maiden & hir kiste:
Þat of-þouȝt þe steward vnwreste.
He hir hadde loued mani a day,
& wende haue spoused þat feir may.
Þe cheker þai oxy & þe meyne;
Bifor þe maiden þan pleyen he.
Y-sett þai han þe first game,
Þe steward it les, bi godes name.
Seþþe þai han anoþer y-gonne,
Anon it haþ Gij y-wonne,
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Þe steward was sori sikerliche;
Al mody he ros vp þo:
Wroþ & sori he was bo.
‘Gij,’ quaþ he, ‘bi-leue þou here,
Þiself & Clarice, þi pleye-fere,
Al what ich come now son oȝe.’
‘Anon,’ seyd Gij, ‘it schal so be.’
Out him went Morgadour,
At his in he tok a chasour,
To þemperour he goþ riȝt.
When þemperour hadde of him siȝt,
Oȝaines him he is y-gon,
& tidinges he oxed him anon.
‘Now forþ, sir steward,’ he sede,
‘Comestow for gode or for qued?
Whi comestow so prikiinge?
Tel it me wiþ-outen lesinge.
Ȝif þou of Sarrazins hast herd ouȝt,
Tel it me; for-hele it nouȝt.’
‘Sir,’ quaþ he, ‘y schal þe telle:
Þi schame forhele y nille.
An soudour þou hast wiþ þe,
& wil þat þou y-schent be.
Þi douhter, þat so feir is,
Forlay he haþ, for-soþe y-wis.
Into hir bour wiþ strengþe he ȝede,
& bi þi douhter his wille he dede.’
Ȝif þou ne me leuest, hom þou fare,
Ȝete þou schalt him finde þare.
Þer þou miȝt him finde, y-wis,
& þi douhter clippe & kisse.
Þerfore y com þe to say,
For þi schame forhele y no may.
Ȝif þou him finde in þat stede,
Into þi prisoun þou him lede,
188
For treitour he is, y telle þe to:
Þe more adouted þou schalt be
Of alle þi regne, y telle þe.
Þer-fore ne wonde þou no-þing
Nouȝt for him no his helping;
After-ward þat he demed is,
& þi court of þat treytour deliuerd is,
Into Almayne ichil gon
To þemperour Reyner anon;
Socour fram him ichil bringe,
& deliuer þi lond, wiþouten lesinge,
Of alle þine dedeliche fon,
Þat þine men haue sleyn ichon.’
‘Who is þat?’ þemperour sede.
‘Gij of Warwike, so god me rede!
Þou do him nim, & binde fast,
& in þi prisoun þou do him cast.’
Quaþ þemperour, ‘lat now be,
No speke nouȝt so of him to me:
Oȝaines me misdo he nold
Nouȝt for tventi somers of gold,
No for to ben al to-hewe:
So gode a kniȝt he is & trewe.
& ȝif he is þer-in, wele be it so:
Wiþ hir his wille he may do;
For mi douhter ichim bi-hote habbe,
Nil ich nouȝt of couenant gabbe.’
‘Gij of Warwike, so god me rede!
Þou do him nim, & binde fast,
& in þi prisoun þou do him cast.’
Quaþ þemperour, ‘lat now be,
No speke nouȝt so of him to me:
Oȝaines me misdo he nold
Nouȝt for tventi somers of gold,
No for to ben al to-hewe:
So gode a kniȝt he is & trewe.
& ȝif he is þer-in, wele be it so:
Wiþ hir his wille he may do;
For mi douhter ichim bi-hote habbe,
Nil ich nouȝt of couenant gabbe.’
When þe steward him haþ bi-þouȝt
Þat þemperour nold here him nouȝt,
Hom to his in he is y-go,
& aliȝt of his palfrey þo.
Anon in-to chaumber he ȝede,
& to Gij of Warwike he sede,
‘Gij, þou art ful wele wiþ me,
Þerfore ich-il kiþen it þe:
To þemperour y-teld it is,
Bi þe lord seyn Denis,
Þat wiþ strengþe þou com in-to his bour
& has forleyn his douhter wiþ desonour.
& ȝif he þe may ouer-go,
He wil þe bren oþer slo.
Þat þemperour nold here him nouȝt,
Hom to his in he is y-go,
& aliȝt of his palfrey þo.
Anon in-to chaumber he ȝede,
& to Gij of Warwike he sede,
‘Gij, þou art ful wele wiþ me,
Þerfore ich-il kiþen it þe:
190
Bi þe lord seyn Denis,
Þat wiþ strengþe þou com in-to his bour
& has forleyn his douhter wiþ desonour.
& ȝif he þe may ouer-go,
He wil þe bren oþer slo.
& ich hot þe þat þou hennes fle,
Þat he nouȝt of-take þe.’
Þat he nouȝt of-take þe.’
‘Bi god,’ quaþ Gij, ‘þat were wrong,
Þat y schold here mi deþ afong
For þing þat ich haue gilt non,
No neuer þouȝt it to don.
An arnemorwe, when he out ȝede,
Miche he me o loue bede;
Hou schuld ich euer siker be
Of ani bi-hest men hotes me?
For þemperour me seyd þo,
And trewelich me bihete þerto,
Þat he me wold gret worþschipe,
& now he me wil sle wiþ schenschipe
For þe speche of a losanger,
& of a feloun pautener.’
Out of þe chaumber he is y-go:
Sori & dreri he was þo.
To his in he ȝede swiþe,
And cleped his felawes bliue.
‘Lordinges,’ he seyd, ‘to armes snelle!
Here wil we no longer duelle:
To þemperour y-wraid we beþ,
Alle he wil don ous to þe deþ.
Bi þe treuþe y schal our lord ȝeld,
Þat heuen and erþe haueþ in weld,
Er þan we be nomen & ded,
So mani schal dye of her ferred,
Þat it worþ abouȝt wel strong
Þat ich am bi-wrayd wrong!’
To armes þai went wiþ þat ichon;
Out of þe cite þai ben y-gon,
& went toward þe heþen men,
Wiþ þem to holden & to ben,
To help þe heþen men ichon.
Wiþ þat com þemperour anon:
Fram þe riuer he come rideinge,
& wiþ his folk fast prikeinge;
Feir weder it was, & miri also,
Þe briȝt armes he seye þo.
Þat y schold here mi deþ afong
For þing þat ich haue gilt non,
No neuer þouȝt it to don.
An arnemorwe, when he out ȝede,
Miche he me o loue bede;
Hou schuld ich euer siker be
Of ani bi-hest men hotes me?
For þemperour me seyd þo,
And trewelich me bihete þerto,
Þat he me wold gret worþschipe,
& now he me wil sle wiþ schenschipe
For þe speche of a losanger,
& of a feloun pautener.’
Out of þe chaumber he is y-go:
Sori & dreri he was þo.
To his in he ȝede swiþe,
And cleped his felawes bliue.
‘Lordinges,’ he seyd, ‘to armes snelle!
Here wil we no longer duelle:
To þemperour y-wraid we beþ,
Alle he wil don ous to þe deþ.
Bi þe treuþe y schal our lord ȝeld,
Þat heuen and erþe haueþ in weld,
Er þan we be nomen & ded,
So mani schal dye of her ferred,
192
Þat ich am bi-wrayd wrong!’
To armes þai went wiþ þat ichon;
Out of þe cite þai ben y-gon,
& went toward þe heþen men,
Wiþ þem to holden & to ben,
To help þe heþen men ichon.
Wiþ þat com þemperour anon:
Fram þe riuer he come rideinge,
& wiþ his folk fast prikeinge;
Feir weder it was, & miri also,
Þe briȝt armes he seye þo.
Þemperour hem seye, & knewe Gij,
For he come hem swiþe neye.
At an herhaud þan asked he,
‘This armed folk, what may þis be?’
‘Sir,’ quaþ he, ‘it is Gij,
Þat in wretþe fram þe wil parti;
Vnto þe soudan he wil fare,
& wirche þe sorwe & michel care
Þurch wraying þat teld him is:
Wele y wot þat soþe it nis.
Wele it semeþ þat wroþ is he;
Al armed on his stede ich him se.’
When þemperour herd þis,
For he come hem swiþe neye.
At an herhaud þan asked he,
‘This armed folk, what may þis be?’
‘Sir,’ quaþ he, ‘it is Gij,
Þat in wretþe fram þe wil parti;
Vnto þe soudan he wil fare,
& wirche þe sorwe & michel care
Þurch wraying þat teld him is:
Wele y wot þat soþe it nis.
Wele it semeþ þat wroþ is he;
Al armed on his stede ich him se.’
Alle droupeninde he was y-wis,
He gan to prike, & þat anon:
As hauk þat fleyþe his hors gan gon.
After Gij loude he gradde þo:
‘Abide & speke me now to!
For godes loue lete now be;
Whi wiltow, sir, go fro me?
Ȝif ich ouȝt haue agilt to þe,
For godes loue þou say it me;
Be it in dede oþer in speche
That ani þe han agilt, y þe biseche,
194
& topon al oþer y loue þe.
Wele ich wene þat þe soudan, y-wis,
To whom al Percie atended is,
After þe haþ sent: ich vnderstond so.
He þe schal habbe, & y forgo.
Gold & siluer he may ȝiue þe,
& feffe þe wiþ mani a riche cite;
Þer-fore þou wilt wiþ him be,
& strongliche holden oȝaines me.’
‘Sir,’ quaþ sir Gij to þemperour,
‘No was ich neuer þi traitour,
And ȝif god wil, y nil nouȝt be,
Þerwhiles þe lif is in me.
Me was y-teld biforn now riȝt
Of on þat is þi priue kniȝt,
Þat þou no hadest to don wiþ mi seruise,
& þat y þe serue wiþ feyntise;
And þat ich was biwrayd to þe
(For þi nold ich no longer here be),
And þat þou wost do me to-hewe,
& mine barouns, þat ben so trewe.
For þi y þouȝt þat y go scholde
To hem þat mi seruise ȝeld me wold;
Ac for al Damas & þat cuntre
Nold ich haue holden oȝaines te.’
‘No was ich neuer þi traitour,
And ȝif god wil, y nil nouȝt be,
Þerwhiles þe lif is in me.
Me was y-teld biforn now riȝt
Of on þat is þi priue kniȝt,
Þat þou no hadest to don wiþ mi seruise,
& þat y þe serue wiþ feyntise;
And þat ich was biwrayd to þe
(For þi nold ich no longer here be),
And þat þou wost do me to-hewe,
& mine barouns, þat ben so trewe.
For þi y þouȝt þat y go scholde
To hem þat mi seruise ȝeld me wold;
Ac for al Damas & þat cuntre
Nold ich haue holden oȝaines te.’
Þemperour þan him nome
Bitvene his armes, & seyd anon,
‘Nay, sir Gij,’ he seyd, ‘bi seyn Denis,
It no was nouȝt so, y-wis.
Mi dere frende Gij, oȝain þou go
(Lordinges, barouns, biddeþ him so);
For to þine wille it is alle,
Alle þat min is, and ben schal.
Ac biwrayed þou war to me,
& þer-fore haue he maugre!
Neuer eft worþ non loued of me
Þat ouȝt sigge bot gode of þe.’
Þemperour þan to Gij seyd,
‘Þi wille þou do bi þat mayde.’
Sir Gij kist þemperour þo,
& to þe cite þai ben y-go.
Þo wist wele Gij bi þan,
Bitreyd him hadde his foman;
Ac no semblaunt þerof he no made,
No no þing to him seyde.
An armorwe erliche
Bitvene his armes, & seyd anon,
‘Nay, sir Gij,’ he seyd, ‘bi seyn Denis,
It no was nouȝt so, y-wis.
Mi dere frende Gij, oȝain þou go
(Lordinges, barouns, biddeþ him so);
For to þine wille it is alle,
Alle þat min is, and ben schal.
Ac biwrayed þou war to me,
& þer-fore haue he maugre!
196
Þat ouȝt sigge bot gode of þe.’
Þemperour þan to Gij seyd,
‘Þi wille þou do bi þat mayde.’
Sir Gij kist þemperour þo,
& to þe cite þai ben y-go.
Þo wist wele Gij bi þan,
Bitreyd him hadde his foman;
Ac no semblaunt þerof he no made,
No no þing to him seyde.
Þemperour aros, sikerliche;
Anon he seyd to Gij his speche:
‘Herken to me, y þe biseche.
In þis morning anon
We worþ aseyled of our fon,
Of Sarrazins þat misbileued be;
Alle for soþe y telle it to þe.
Þe soudan himselue wil þer be.
A spie for soþe teld it me,
Þat hij þe cite wil asayli,
& þat hij þennes nil parti,
Al fort he haue nome þis cite,
Or þat it destrued be.’
Þemperour seyd, ‘sir Gij þe fre,
Als so þou wilt it schal be.
Þe cite alle op þe y do
Wiþ Cristes blisceing þer-to.
Ȝif hij ous seyl we schul ous were;
Þe cite is strong, þai mow it nouȝt dere.’
Gij þat constable cleped him to,
Þat gode kniȝt was, & wise also:
Tristor he hete wiþ þe berd blowe,
Lord & douke of Almayne, y trowe.
‘Sir Tristor,’ he seyd, ‘listen to me:
Aseyled we worþ, siker þou be.
198
Ȝif we wille were þis cite,
Oþer we wille oȝain hem te,
At paþes that destrued be,
& mete we hem þer on þe doune,
Acumbre hem & legge hem doune.’
‘Sir,’ anon seyd the constable,
‘Þis ich speche schal be stable.
Do þan grede þurch þe cite
Þat alle redy armed be,
Alle þat armes may welde,
And who so þat feyneþ for couward be helde.’
Bi þe morwe þai ben armed wel,
Bi tale .xx. thousend hauberks of stiel,
Out of þe cite þai ben y-go
Wiþ gret noise & din also.
‘Lordinges,’ quaþ Gij, ‘herkeneþ to me
Ȝe þat here asembled be,
Of ȝour kinde þat is y-slawe,
Of edwite & of missawe,
Þat ous is don, thenke we þer-on,
& baldeliche aseyl we our fon;
For Sarrazins ous aseyle wille,
Alle for soþe y ȝou telle.
We wil hem mete wiþ spere & scheld
At þe narwe paþe bi-tven þe held.
Now biþenkeþ ȝou wele to don,
& awreke ȝour lond of ȝour fon.
Of ȝour londes & ȝour citez,
Þat destrud & wasted beþ,
Ȝou to awreke bi-þenkeþ ȝou,
& strongliche aseyleþ hem now.
Bot ȝe were ȝou wele & bliue,
& hij mow ȝou of þe feldes driue,
Alle we ben ded oþer nome,
& in þraldome euer more wone.
200
& strengþe ous alle wele to done;
& ich me self wil wiþ ȝou go;
Y nil ȝou feyle neuer mo.’
Wele spekeþ now Sir Gij,
& alle þai siggeþ, ‘gramerci!’
To þe pas of þe hulles þai ben y-come,
& þe Sarrazins han vnder-nome,
& seye þe cuntres & þe feld
Wiþ briȝt brini and wiþ scheld.
Þe soudan cleped after Helman,
Þat deined fle for no man;
He was coraious & gode kniȝt,
& michel adouted in euerich fiȝt.
‘Sir king,’ quaþ he, ‘come to me.
Wiþ .xx. þousende Turkes, ich hot þe,
The Cristen ȝe schul aseyle anon.
Loke ȝe nim hem oþer slen ichon;
Opon ȝon hulle þai ben, lo;
Gret harm þai han ous y-do.’
Þe king forþ went wiþ his men ichon,
Wiþ strengþe þe helde þai vnder-nome;
Wiþ strengþe þai wene þe slade ouer-go;
Ac gret combraunce hem com furst to.
At þe entring of þe pas Gij gan to grede,
‘Helpeþ, lordinges, alle our ferrede!
Biþenkeþ ȝou to winnen wele.
& hij oȝaines ȝou vndernim þe hille,
Yuel ous worþ þan bi-go,
Bot god ous on þenke þat al may do;
Þai ben bi-neþen & we aboue.
Amidde þe pas þai ben to-gider come,
& asaileþ hem smerteliche;
& to-gider we go now commonliche:
Þroweþ wiþ stones, and bowes scheteinge,
Launces, swerdes, & dartes kerueinge,
Smiteþ wiþ swerdes & speres y-grounde,
Scheteþ wiþ piles & ȝif hem deþ wounde.’
Mani Sarrazin þer y-slawe is;
Þer doþ Gij as þe riȝt wise.
Into þe narwe hij come, hem to lett,
Bi hundredes foure þai aseyl hem sket;
Bi hundred & bi þousende,
Þai ben þe Sarrazins quellinde.
Gij smot on þis side & on þat:
Nas þer non þat his dint sat.
Þat deined fle for no man;
He was coraious & gode kniȝt,
& michel adouted in euerich fiȝt.
‘Sir king,’ quaþ he, ‘come to me.
Wiþ .xx. þousende Turkes, ich hot þe,
The Cristen ȝe schul aseyle anon.
Loke ȝe nim hem oþer slen ichon;
Opon ȝon hulle þai ben, lo;
Gret harm þai han ous y-do.’
Þe king forþ went wiþ his men ichon,
Wiþ strengþe þe helde þai vnder-nome;
Wiþ strengþe þai wene þe slade ouer-go;
Ac gret combraunce hem com furst to.
At þe entring of þe pas Gij gan to grede,
‘Helpeþ, lordinges, alle our ferrede!
Biþenkeþ ȝou to winnen wele.
& hij oȝaines ȝou vndernim þe hille,
Yuel ous worþ þan bi-go,
Bot god ous on þenke þat al may do;
Þai ben bi-neþen & we aboue.
Amidde þe pas þai ben to-gider come,
& asaileþ hem smerteliche;
& to-gider we go now commonliche:
Þroweþ wiþ stones, and bowes scheteinge,
Launces, swerdes, & dartes kerueinge,
202
Scheteþ wiþ piles & ȝif hem deþ wounde.’
Mani Sarrazin þer y-slawe is;
Þer doþ Gij as þe riȝt wise.
Into þe narwe hij come, hem to lett,
Bi hundredes foure þai aseyl hem sket;
Bi hundred & bi þousende,
Þai ben þe Sarrazins quellinde.
Gij smot on þis side & on þat:
Nas þer non þat his dint sat.
Ermine he smot on þurch þe scheld;
Almost he feld him in þe feld.
Þan come Auþer ouer þuert,
A Sarrazin modi of hert:
Ermine smot him on þe helme an heyȝe,
Þat he cleue him to þe teþ;
Al ded he made him on þe grounde to lie.
Wiþ þat come þe king of Nubie;
Toward Herhaud he come prikeinde,
& Gij him was oȝain cominde.
Wiþ grete strengþe sir Gij him smot
Þat he feld him anon fot hot.
When þe douke of Tire þat y-seþ,
His men dye on so reweliche deþ
(An hond he held a dart kerueinde,
Þe Cristen þer-wiþ þreteninde),
He forþ ȝede, & smot a kniȝt,
Þat ded he feld him anon riȝt.
When Gij o Warwike þat y-seye,
Þiderward he drouȝ him swiþe neye:
A gode dart on hond he bar,
& to him he launced heteliche þar.
Þer-wiþ he smot Ebban þe king,
Þat ded he fel wiþouten letting.
Þe Sarrazines hij to-heweþ & quelleþ,
Bi þe doun hij gredeþ & ȝelleþ.
Almost he feld him in þe feld.
Þan come Auþer ouer þuert,
A Sarrazin modi of hert:
Ermine smot him on þe helme an heyȝe,
Þat he cleue him to þe teþ;
Al ded he made him on þe grounde to lie.
Wiþ þat come þe king of Nubie;
Toward Herhaud he come prikeinde,
& Gij him was oȝain cominde.
Wiþ grete strengþe sir Gij him smot
Þat he feld him anon fot hot.
When þe douke of Tire þat y-seþ,
His men dye on so reweliche deþ
(An hond he held a dart kerueinde,
Þe Cristen þer-wiþ þreteninde),
He forþ ȝede, & smot a kniȝt,
Þat ded he feld him anon riȝt.
When Gij o Warwike þat y-seye,
Þiderward he drouȝ him swiþe neye:
A gode dart on hond he bar,
& to him he launced heteliche þar.
Þer-wiþ he smot Ebban þe king,
Þat ded he fel wiþouten letting.
Þe Sarrazines hij to-heweþ & quelleþ,
Bi þe doun hij gredeþ & ȝelleþ.
204
When þe soudan seye his folk dye,
Bi ten, bi tvelue, in þe waye,
He cleped to him þe king of Nubye,
Þat was ful of felonie.
‘Sir king,’ he seyd, ‘sest tow nouȝt
Hou mine men ben to deþ y-brouȝt?
Descumfit & y-slawe hij beþ,
Þe bodis ded wele ȝe seþ.
Þis Cristen our men to deþ doþ;
Ac bi Cariot y swere mi noþ,
& bi Apolyn þe grete,
Bi Ternagaunt, & bi Mahoun þe swete,
Bot we of hem be wreken swiþe,
No worþ y neuer glad no bliþe,
Bot we hem aseyle biginne,
& þe hille wiþ strengþe awinne.
An hundred we ben oȝain hem on,
& al we schul hem nimen anon.’
Þe helden þai nimeþ about strongliche,
& þe Cristen aseyl stalworþliche
At þe brode paþe & narwe also;
Þe Gregeys wele werd hem þo.
On þe Cristen þai gun smite,
Þe Sarrazins, boþe miche & lite,
& our men hem werd wel
Wiþ scharpe speres & grounden stiel:
Wiþ axes & swerdes y-grounde,
Wiþ gisarmes þai ȝif deþes wounde.
Bi ten, bi tvelue, in þe waye,
He cleped to him þe king of Nubye,
Þat was ful of felonie.
‘Sir king,’ he seyd, ‘sest tow nouȝt
Hou mine men ben to deþ y-brouȝt?
Descumfit & y-slawe hij beþ,
Þe bodis ded wele ȝe seþ.
Þis Cristen our men to deþ doþ;
Ac bi Cariot y swere mi noþ,
& bi Apolyn þe grete,
Bi Ternagaunt, & bi Mahoun þe swete,
Bot we of hem be wreken swiþe,
No worþ y neuer glad no bliþe,
Bot we hem aseyle biginne,
& þe hille wiþ strengþe awinne.
An hundred we ben oȝain hem on,
& al we schul hem nimen anon.’
Þe helden þai nimeþ about strongliche,
& þe Cristen aseyl stalworþliche
At þe brode paþe & narwe also;
Þe Gregeys wele werd hem þo.
On þe Cristen þai gun smite,
Þe Sarrazins, boþe miche & lite,
& our men hem werd wel
Wiþ scharpe speres & grounden stiel:
Wiþ axes & swerdes y-grounde,
Wiþ gisarmes þai ȝif deþes wounde.
Þe soudan forþwiþ alder-farst
On þe Cristen smot wel fast;
On heye on helmes he hem smot
Wiþ his fauchon þat wele bot.
Toȝaines Gij he smot þo,
& seyd ‘war, ich-il þe slo!’
Gij he smot so ouer þuert,
Þat he was sumdel y-hert;
Ac Gij wiþ strengþe to him smot
Wiþ his swerd þat wele bot.
Wel strong was þat ich fiȝt,
Ac þe soudan wered him wiþ miȝt.
Wharto schuld ich ȝou telle more?
Þe Sarrazins ouer-comen wore:
Wele haþ Gij don þat day,
As gode kniȝt & verray.
On þe Cristen smot wel fast;
On heye on helmes he hem smot
Wiþ his fauchon þat wele bot.
Toȝaines Gij he smot þo,
& seyd ‘war, ich-il þe slo!’
Gij he smot so ouer þuert,
Þat he was sumdel y-hert;
206
Wiþ his swerd þat wele bot.
Wel strong was þat ich fiȝt,
Ac þe soudan wered him wiþ miȝt.
Wharto schuld ich ȝou telle more?
Þe Sarrazins ouer-comen wore:
Wele haþ Gij don þat day,
As gode kniȝt & verray.
At a pas he houed riȝt,
As a kniȝt of gret miȝt;
A gisarme he bar kerueinde,
He smot bifore & bi-hinde.
Þe Sarraȝins so he agast,
Al þat he smot to grounde he cast.
As a kniȝt of gret miȝt;
A gisarme he bar kerueinde,
He smot bifore & bi-hinde.
Þe Sarraȝins so he agast,
Al þat he smot to grounde he cast.
His scheld he hadde forlore,
To-hewe it lay his fet bifore.
So mani Sarrazin he slouȝ þat day,
Þat ich on oþer ded lay;
So mani to ded þer he dede,
Þat þe hepe lay to his girdel stede.
To-hewe it lay his fet bifore.
So mani Sarrazin he slouȝ þat day,
Þat ich on oþer ded lay;
So mani to ded þer he dede,
Þat þe hepe lay to his girdel stede.
Who so seye þan Herhaud fiȝt,
Of a gode kniȝt ȝelp he miȝt.
A damsax he bar on his hond:
Al þat he rauȝt to grounde he wond;
Sarrazins he slouȝ mo þan sexti,
& Gij an hundred & fourti.
Herhaud þat day so sore swong,
Þat þurch his mouþe þe fom it sprong;
Al to-hewe was his helme,
Þe blod ran out als a welme.
What schuld y make tale muche?
Þe Sarrazins þai slowen strongliche;
Ac euer he was gode, apliȝt,
Gij of Warwike michel of miȝt,
More dede þan ani oþer:
His stroke was heui so a foþer.
Gij and his feren also
Als lyouns þai fouȝten þo,
& the Gregeys forþ wiþ hem,
Þai wered hem as douhti men.
Weynes & cartes þai han y-nome
Mo þan fiften þousende atte frome.
Y-ioined hij han þe gret piles,
Ginnes þai made on selcouþe wise,
Sum piles scharpe kerueinde,
Al aboute so mani stondinde,
Þat ich ne can þe noumbre telle,
Noiþer in rime no in spelle.
Þer nas man þat þer neye come,
Þat he ne was to-corwen anon.
So griseliche be þe engins,
For to sle þe Sarrazines,
In ich half y-sett arawe,
Scharpe soules doun of þe hulle y-drawe.
Þer-mid þai hewe þe gret stonis,
Bi-hewe quarre for þe nonis,
So gret so tventie men miȝt drawe,
To slen hem of þe heþen lawe.
Swiche a þousende for-smiten þai be,
Þat neuer after schullen y-the;
Wel iuel hem is bifallen þare,
Ded þai ben wiþ sorwe & care.
Of a gode kniȝt ȝelp he miȝt.
A damsax he bar on his hond:
Al þat he rauȝt to grounde he wond;
Sarrazins he slouȝ mo þan sexti,
& Gij an hundred & fourti.
Herhaud þat day so sore swong,
Þat þurch his mouþe þe fom it sprong;
Al to-hewe was his helme,
Þe blod ran out als a welme.
What schuld y make tale muche?
Þe Sarrazins þai slowen strongliche;
Ac euer he was gode, apliȝt,
Gij of Warwike michel of miȝt,
208
His stroke was heui so a foþer.
Gij and his feren also
Als lyouns þai fouȝten þo,
& the Gregeys forþ wiþ hem,
Þai wered hem as douhti men.
Weynes & cartes þai han y-nome
Mo þan fiften þousende atte frome.
Y-ioined hij han þe gret piles,
Ginnes þai made on selcouþe wise,
Sum piles scharpe kerueinde,
Al aboute so mani stondinde,
Þat ich ne can þe noumbre telle,
Noiþer in rime no in spelle.
Þer nas man þat þer neye come,
Þat he ne was to-corwen anon.
So griseliche be þe engins,
For to sle þe Sarrazines,
In ich half y-sett arawe,
Scharpe soules doun of þe hulle y-drawe.
Þer-mid þai hewe þe gret stonis,
Bi-hewe quarre for þe nonis,
So gret so tventie men miȝt drawe,
To slen hem of þe heþen lawe.
Swiche a þousende for-smiten þai be,
Þat neuer after schullen y-the;
Wel iuel hem is bifallen þare,
Ded þai ben wiþ sorwe & care.
Wharto schuld ich tale telle?
Þe soudan lepe on hors ful snelle.
Gret onde he hadde to Gyoun,
& to Herhaud, his compaynoun,
For hij han slawe so fel of his.
He sat on an hors of pris,
Wiþ gret hete he smot to Gij,
Opon his helme, sikerly,
Þat he feld þat o quarter.
To Gij he seyd a bismer:
‘Y-sestow, lord? bi Apolin,
Þat was a strok of a Sarrazin!’
Gij to þe soudan smot þo,
His helme no was him worþ a slo:
Resares euen forþ þe breyn
Helme & flesse he carf wiþ meyn.
Þan he seyd to him a bismer:
‘Mahoun halp þe litel þer!
Bodi & soule no nouȝt þer-of
No is nouȝt worþ a lekes clof.
Hou so it go of mi wounde,
Of Mahoun þou hast litel help y-founde.
Er þou scorndest me,
Of mi wounde þou madest þi gle:
Leche gode schal ich haue,
Þat mi wounde schal to hele drawe;
Þou hast a croun schauen to þe bon;
Tomorwe þou miȝt sing anon.
Wele þou þouȝtest to ben a prest,
When þou of swiche a bischop order berst!’
Now biginneþ þat gret fiȝt;
Bi þre, bi four, adoun riȝt,
Þe Sarrazins ben ouer-come,
Oway fleinde þai ben some.
Þe niȝt comeþ, þe day is go,
Þe Sarrazins han ful michel wo;
For so mani y-slawe þer be
(So seyd þe folk of þat cuntre),
Þat men miȝt wade ouer þe scho hem
In þe blod þat of hem kem.
So miche folk þer was y-slawe þo,
Þat fiftene forlong men miȝt go,
Þat þei he kept him neuer so,
He most nedes opon men go,
Oþer on fot, oþer on hond,
Oþer opon arm coruen wiþ brond.
Þe soudan lepe on hors ful snelle.
Gret onde he hadde to Gyoun,
& to Herhaud, his compaynoun,
For hij han slawe so fel of his.
He sat on an hors of pris,
Wiþ gret hete he smot to Gij,
Opon his helme, sikerly,
210
To Gij he seyd a bismer:
‘Y-sestow, lord? bi Apolin,
Þat was a strok of a Sarrazin!’
Gij to þe soudan smot þo,
His helme no was him worþ a slo:
Resares euen forþ þe breyn
Helme & flesse he carf wiþ meyn.
Þan he seyd to him a bismer:
‘Mahoun halp þe litel þer!
Bodi & soule no nouȝt þer-of
No is nouȝt worþ a lekes clof.
Hou so it go of mi wounde,
Of Mahoun þou hast litel help y-founde.
Er þou scorndest me,
Of mi wounde þou madest þi gle:
Leche gode schal ich haue,
Þat mi wounde schal to hele drawe;
Þou hast a croun schauen to þe bon;
Tomorwe þou miȝt sing anon.
Wele þou þouȝtest to ben a prest,
When þou of swiche a bischop order berst!’
Now biginneþ þat gret fiȝt;
Bi þre, bi four, adoun riȝt,
Þe Sarrazins ben ouer-come,
Oway fleinde þai ben some.
Þe niȝt comeþ, þe day is go,
Þe Sarrazins han ful michel wo;
For so mani y-slawe þer be
(So seyd þe folk of þat cuntre),
Þat men miȝt wade ouer þe scho hem
In þe blod þat of hem kem.
So miche folk þer was y-slawe þo,
Þat fiftene forlong men miȝt go,
Þat þei he kept him neuer so,
He most nedes opon men go,
212
Oþer opon arm coruen wiþ brond.
Wiþ þat come an amiral prikeinge,
Newe dubbed he was, wiþ-outen lesing;
To þe soudan he is y-come,
Þurch þe bodi he haþ woundes some.
‘Sir,’ he seyd, ‘hennes we go:
No sestow al our folk slo?
Bi þousendes þou sest hem to deþ ligge;
Our godes ous hateþ, for soþe to sigge.
Þou sest Mahoun ne Apolin
Be nouȝt worþ þe brestel of a swin.
Anon riȝtes wiþdrawe þou þe,
& to þi pauiloun þou fle;
Alle þe wounded þou do wiþ þe lede;
Ȝete þai may þe help & rede.
Þi rereban þou do of-sende;
To awreke [þe] þou haue in mende.’
Anon þai hem wiþdrawe and ben ouer-come;
Sori þai ben alle & some.
Þe soudan dede biforn him bring
Alle his godes, wiþouten lesing:
Toward hem he is wel wroþ,
Do he wil hem harm & loþ:
‘A ȝe fals godes vnwreste!
Sone ȝou tit a liþer feste.
Oȝain ous ȝe ben of wicked mode:
Schame ȝe don ous & no gode.
Ȝe don ous alder-werst to spede
When þat we han mest nede.
Fy, fy,’ he seyd, ‘on [þe], Apolin!
Þou schalt haue wel iuel fin,
& þou, Ternagaunt, also:
Michel schame schal com ȝou to;
& þou, Mahoun, her alder lord,
Þou nart nouȝt worþ a tord!
Þer-fore þou it schalt abigge
Wiþ staues gret opon þi rigge.’
Newe dubbed he was, wiþ-outen lesing;
To þe soudan he is y-come,
Þurch þe bodi he haþ woundes some.
‘Sir,’ he seyd, ‘hennes we go:
No sestow al our folk slo?
Bi þousendes þou sest hem to deþ ligge;
Our godes ous hateþ, for soþe to sigge.
Þou sest Mahoun ne Apolin
Be nouȝt worþ þe brestel of a swin.
Anon riȝtes wiþdrawe þou þe,
& to þi pauiloun þou fle;
Alle þe wounded þou do wiþ þe lede;
Ȝete þai may þe help & rede.
Þi rereban þou do of-sende;
To awreke [þe] þou haue in mende.’
Anon þai hem wiþdrawe and ben ouer-come;
Sori þai ben alle & some.
Þe soudan dede biforn him bring
Alle his godes, wiþouten lesing:
Toward hem he is wel wroþ,
Do he wil hem harm & loþ:
‘A ȝe fals godes vnwreste!
Sone ȝou tit a liþer feste.
Oȝain ous ȝe ben of wicked mode:
Schame ȝe don ous & no gode.
Ȝe don ous alder-werst to spede
When þat we han mest nede.
Fy, fy,’ he seyd, ‘on [þe], Apolin!
Þou schalt haue wel iuel fin,
& þou, Ternagaunt, also:
Michel schame schal com ȝou to;
& þou, Mahoun, her alder lord,
Þou nart nouȝt worþ a tord!
214
Wiþ staues gret opon þi rigge.’
So he gan his godes to cloute,
Þat þe erþe dined aboute.
Her armes & legges he to-tiȝt,
& cleped hem wroches anon riȝt:
‘Godenes in ȝou nas neuer y-founde,
No more miȝt þan in an hounde.’
Bi þe fet he hem out drouȝ,
And dede hem schame riȝt anouȝ.
Þat þe erþe dined aboute.
Her armes & legges he to-tiȝt,
& cleped hem wroches anon riȝt:
‘Godenes in ȝou nas neuer y-founde,
No more miȝt þan in an hounde.’
Bi þe fet he hem out drouȝ,
And dede hem schame riȝt anouȝ.
Gij dede clepe her cheueteyn
Wiþ gode will & hert feyn:
‘Lordinges,’ he seyd, ‘godly-þonked be!
Feir grace so habbe we,
Þat þe Sarrazins ben ouercome.
Wende we to þe cite atte frome.’
& when þai ben comen oȝen,
To þemperour welcom þai ben,
& nameliche Gij, þe gode kniȝt,
Mest was worþschiped in þat fiȝt.
Wiþ gode will & hert feyn:
‘Lordinges,’ he seyd, ‘godly-þonked be!
Feir grace so habbe we,
Þat þe Sarrazins ben ouercome.
Wende we to þe cite atte frome.’
& when þai ben comen oȝen,
To þemperour welcom þai ben,
& nameliche Gij, þe gode kniȝt,
Mest was worþschiped in þat fiȝt.
When þat y-seye Morgadour,
Þat steward was wiþ þemperour,
Þat Gij biwreyed vnwrastliche,
Þat þemperour loued so miche,
He bigan for to asay
Hou he miȝt Gij bi-tray.
O felonie he haþ him bi-þouȝt;
Of swiche no haue ȝe herd nouȝt:
He þouȝt in his wille þo,
Þat Gij o message schuld go.
In swiche þouȝt & swiche wille
An while he held him stille;
Anon he went to þemperour,
& seyd, ‘sir, par amour,
Þat steward was wiþ þemperour,
Þat Gij biwreyed vnwrastliche,
Þat þemperour loued so miche,
He bigan for to asay
Hou he miȝt Gij bi-tray.
O felonie he haþ him bi-þouȝt;
Of swiche no haue ȝe herd nouȝt:
He þouȝt in his wille þo,
Þat Gij o message schuld go.
In swiche þouȝt & swiche wille
An while he held him stille;
Anon he went to þemperour,
& seyd, ‘sir, par amour,
216
Þe soudan haþ his folk y-sent:
Into al peyni his sond is sent.
Þer nis noiþer ȝing no eld
Þat armes may bere & wepen weld,
Alle he is haueþ of-sent,
Þe to bisege verrament.
Into al peyni his sond is sent.
Þer nis noiþer ȝing no eld
Þat armes may bere & wepen weld,
Alle he is haueþ of-sent,
Þe to bisege verrament.
To him þou þi sond sende,
Alle þi wille, word & ende.’
Alle þi wille, word & ende.’
‘Who,’ he seyd, ‘durst þider wende?’
‘Sir Gij, a kniȝt hardi & hende
Of þine house, & þat y plight:
Gij of Warwike of gret miȝt,
Herhaud of Arderne, þat oþer best:
On hem tveye ȝe mow ȝou trest.
To þe soudan þou sende þine kniȝtes bold,
& say þou wilt wiþ him a day hold
Of acord in swiche manere.’
‘Sir steward,’ seyd þemperere,
‘Toward Gij þou berst iuel wille:
He no schal nouȝt go; þerof be stille.
Ac mine barouns ichil of-sende,
& wite who wille þider wende.’
‘Sir Gij, a kniȝt hardi & hende
Of þine house, & þat y plight:
Gij of Warwike of gret miȝt,
Herhaud of Arderne, þat oþer best:
On hem tveye ȝe mow ȝou trest.
To þe soudan þou sende þine kniȝtes bold,
& say þou wilt wiþ him a day hold
Of acord in swiche manere.’
‘Sir steward,’ seyd þemperere,
‘Toward Gij þou berst iuel wille:
He no schal nouȝt go; þerof be stille.
Ac mine barouns ichil of-sende,
& wite who wille þider wende.’
His barouns he haþ of-sent:
Ouer alle his lond þai ben y-went,
Þat þai schuld to þemperour wende.
To hem he seyd, ‘mi leue frende,
Ich wold sende to the soudan,
Ȝif ich wist euer bi wham.
To him to sende ich am in wille,
Wiþ him to acord loude oþer stille,
Ȝif ani of ȝou so hardi were,
Þat to him þe message bere.’
When þemperour had seyd his resoun,
Þer nas noiþer kniȝt no baroun
Þat him a word answerd þo:
Nas þer non þe message durst do.
Ouer alle his lond þai ben y-went,
Þat þai schuld to þemperour wende.
To hem he seyd, ‘mi leue frende,
Ich wold sende to the soudan,
Ȝif ich wist euer bi wham.
To him to sende ich am in wille,
Wiþ him to acord loude oþer stille,
218
Þat to him þe message bere.’
When þemperour had seyd his resoun,
Þer nas noiþer kniȝt no baroun
Þat him a word answerd þo:
Nas þer non þe message durst do.
A baroun of þe benche aros:
Sir Tristor his name was.
‘Sir emperour, vnder-stond me,
Sir Tristor his name was.
For leyer no schal ich holden be;
For ich it sigge for gret loue,
& þine worþschipe to held aboue:
Fif thousende siþe haue he maugre
Þat þe conseyl ȝaf to þe!
For he þe loueþ riȝt nouȝt
Þat in þat wille þe haþ y-brouȝt,
Þat þou to him ȝelde scholdest,
Bot þou þi sonde sende woldest.
No þenkestow nouȝt of þat baroun
Þat was of so gret renoun,
Hou þou sendest him to?
Oȝain no come he neuer mo.
He þe sent þe heued wiþ-outen more,
No durst neuer eft non com þore;
In þe world is kniȝt non
Þat þe message durst don.
For arwe no sigge ich it no-wiȝt:
Ȝif in min armes were so gret miȝt
Also ich hadde, & as ȝong were
As ich was hennes an hundred ȝere,
Þis ich message don ich wold,
For drede of deþ lete y nold.
Ac icham now a neld man,
Alle mine miȝtes ben now gan;
It is now gon mo þan fifti ȝer
Þat ich on rigge hauberk ber.
220
To lese a good man gret harm it is,
For ȝif he ani sendeþ þider,
His heued him schal comen hider.
Now ich haue mi wille y-sede;
Now ȝiue anoþer better rede.’
When Tristor hadde y-seyd þis,
Wiþ-outen ani oþer abod y-wis,
Þer nas nouȝt on, litel no miche,
Þat durst speke sikerliche.
Gij of Warwike vp arist:
‘Sir emperour, bi mi Lord Iesu Crist,
Þis message ichil afo,
& it þurch godes help do.’
Seyd þemperour, ‘þat schaltow nouȝt:
Þider to go haue þou no þouȝt;
Ich it dede mine men to fond,
To whom ich miȝt trust in mi lond.’
Þan answerd Gij wel snelle,
‘For soþe, sir, leten y nille,
Þat ich þe message wil do,
To dye er ich þennes go.’
Wiþ þat he went out of þe halle.
Þe Gregeys siked among hem alle,
‘God! what Gij is noble baroun!
Iesu, þat suffred passioun,
Saue him fram cumberment,
& him oȝain bring in sauement.’
Gij cam to his in in a stounde,
His felawes droupeing he founde.
‘Lordinges,’ he seyd, ‘hou is it now?
Almiȝti god y bi-teche ȝou.’
‘Sir,’ quaþ Herhaud, ‘ich-il go
Bi þine wille wiþ þe also.’
Gij answerd, ‘so no schal it be.
Icham y-go: biddeþ for me.’
222
And men es him brouȝt sikerliche.
Hosen of iren he haþ on drawe,
Non better nar bi þo dawe.
In a strong hauberk he gan him schrede,
Who so it wered, þe ded no þurt him drede.
An helme he haþ on him don:
Better no wered neuer kniȝt non;
The sercle of gold þer-on was wrouȝt,
For half a cite no worþ it bouȝt:
So mani stones þer-in were,
Þat were of vertu swiþe dere.
Seþþe he gert him wiþ a brond
Þat was y-made in eluene lond.
His scheld about his nek he tok,
On hors he lepe wiþ-outen stirop,
On hond he nam a spere kerueinde,
Out of þe cite he was rideinde.
Alle þat weren of þat cite
For him wel sori weren he;
No wene þai neuer his ȝain-cominge,
Alle þai wene þer his endinge.
Now is Gij in þe riȝt way
Toward þe Sarrazins, y say,
Wele y-armed on his stede,
A launce he bar gode at nede.
Smerteliche he dede him in þe ways,
Ouer þe dounes & þe valeys
To the Sarrazins y-comen he is,
& her pauilouns he seþ y-wis.
A real pauiloun he þer seye
Wiþ an eren of gold an heye.
Þat was þe soudans pauiloun:
Haue he Cristes malisoun!
In-to þe pauiloun Gij him wond,
& an hast þer he fond
224
& nouȝt michel noise þer nas.
At þe heye bord eten kinges ten,
Þat alle were Gyes fomen.
Þan seyd Gij þe Englisse,
‘Vnderstond to mi speche:
Þilke lord þat woneþ an heye,
Þat al þing walt fer & neye,
& in þe rode lete him pini,
Al cristen men to saui,
& in þe se made þe sturioun,
So ȝif ȝou alle his malisoun,
& alle þilk þat ich here se,
Þat mis-bileued men be;
& þe at þe first, sir soudan,
Cristes wreche þe come opan!
Yuel fure breninde fast þe opon,
& cleue þi brest doun to þi ton!
For icham Gij ȝe mow wel se,
Yuel mot ȝe alle y-the!
Vnder-stond, treitour, mi resoun:
Haue þou Cristes malisoun,
& alle þilke forþ mitt te,
Þat ich her about þe se.
Þe heye god þat is ful of miȝt
Binim ȝou ȝour limes & ȝour siȝt!
Bi me þe sent word þemperour Garioun,
Þat miȝti men haþ in his bandoun,
Þurch wham þou art y-brouȝt to schond,
& hoteþ þe wende out of his lond,
For here has tow no riȝt.
Finde a Sarrazin oþer a kniȝt,
& he schal anoþer finde,
Þat schal deray[ne] his riȝt kinde.
Y schal wiþ þe glotoun fiȝt;
& ȝif þine haue þe more miȝt,
226
Mi lord þe schal ȝiue ransoun,
& als his lord serue wille
Euer more, & þat is skille.
& ȝif it so bitide þat our kniȝt
Ouer-come ȝour in feld in fiȝt,
Hastiliche þan, y rede þe,
Out of þis lond þat þou fle.
Þer-of þou take a day:
On mi lordes word, y þe say,
To þi pauiloun ich am y-come,
To do þe bateyle atte frome.
Onswere me wiþ-outen lesing,
What word y schal mi lord bring.’
Quaþ þe soudan, ‘whennes artow,
Into mi court comen art now,
& misseyst me so schameliche,
& þretest me so dedeliche?’
Gij answerd, ‘ich-il þe telle:
Mi name for-hele y nille.
Gij of Warwike mi name is;
In þat cuntre y was born y-wis.’
Þe soudan answerd þo:
‘Artow Gij, so mot þou go,
Þou slouȝ mi nevou Cosdram:
His heued þou smot þe bodi fram;
Þou it schalt abigge, bi Apolin!
Today is comen ending þin!’
He hete anon þat Gij wer nome
& y-cast in his prisoun,
Fort þe cloþ ben y-drawe,
& þan reweliche ben y-slawe.
Gij drouȝ out his swerd anon,
& priked his stede wel gode won.
Bi seyn Denis he gan to swere,
Ȝif ani man so hardi were,
228
He schuld dye þurch his hond.
Bifor þe soudan com Gyoun,
& him biheld als a lyoun,
& seyd, ‘soudan, þou schalt abigge:
Þine heued þou schalt forgon, y sigge.’
Opon þe cheyer þer he sat
Gij toke him bi þe top wiþ þat,
& þat heued he dede of fle
Opon þe bord of appel tre.
Þe heued he toke in his hond,
& in his lappe he it wond.
Wel hastiliche he went him, y-wis,
Of þe Sarraȝins adrede he is.
& him biheld als a lyoun,
& seyd, ‘soudan, þou schalt abigge:
Þine heued þou schalt forgon, y sigge.’
Opon þe cheyer þer he sat
Gij toke him bi þe top wiþ þat,
& þat heued he dede of fle
Opon þe bord of appel tre.
Þe heued he toke in his hond,
& in his lappe he it wond.
Wel hastiliche he went him, y-wis,
Of þe Sarraȝins adrede he is.
An hundred heuedes he dede of flen
Of þilke þat him stode oȝen.
Wiþ him he forþ þat heued bar,
Maugre alle þat þer war.
Þurch þat ost he rode smartliche,
His hors him bar hastiliche.
Þer miȝt men se þe Sarrazin
Bi on & on wende to Apolin.
Wel fast after him þai come,
& alle þai wold han him nome.
Gij to aseylen þai wer ȝep;
Vnarmed were þe most hep.
Gij drouȝ him toward an hulle,
Þe Sarrazins him driuen snelle:
Boþe bi hundred & þousende
Him go þe Sarrazins driueinde.
On ich half þai smiten him to,
& he oȝain to hem also:
Neuer no was an-lepy kniȝt
Þat so mani stond miȝt.
Bot god nim of him ȝeme,
His liif it is michel awene.
Listeneþ now & sitteþ stille:
Of þilke þat him stode oȝen.
Wiþ him he forþ þat heued bar,
Maugre alle þat þer war.
Þurch þat ost he rode smartliche,
His hors him bar hastiliche.
Þer miȝt men se þe Sarrazin
Bi on & on wende to Apolin.
Wel fast after him þai come,
& alle þai wold han him nome.
Gij to aseylen þai wer ȝep;
Vnarmed were þe most hep.
Gij drouȝ him toward an hulle,
Þe Sarrazins him driuen snelle:
Boþe bi hundred & þousende
Him go þe Sarrazins driueinde.
On ich half þai smiten him to,
& he oȝain to hem also:
Neuer no was an-lepy kniȝt
Þat so mani stond miȝt.
230
His liif it is michel awene.
Of Herhaud ich ȝou telle wille,
Þat of swoning no may him duelle.
For his lord Gij, y ȝou telle,
So michel sorwe him was an,
Þat telle no miȝt he it noman.
Euerich man is swiþe wo
When he schal a gode frende for-go:
So was Herhaud for his lord fre;
No wende he him neuer more y-se.
Þan bigan his sorweinge,
His her he tar, his honden gan wring.
‘Allas!’ he seyd, ‘sir Gij!
Now ich wot wele siker-lye
Þat y no schal þe neuer y-se;
Allas! for sorwe wo is me!’
For grete sorwe þat he hedde
He fel adoun on his bedde,
Þer he is y-falle on slepe,
As a man weri of wepe.
A sweuen him mett wel ferly,
Þat he seye his lord sir Gij
On his stede swiþe cominge,
& on his hond his swerd kerueing;
Aseyled he was wiþ wolues & bere:
Vnneþe he miȝt him fram hem were.
Alle þai hadde to-broken his scheld,
& his brini to-rent manifeld.
Vnneþe he miȝt him were,
So þai gun on him to tere.
Wiþ þat is Herhaud awaked,
& of his sweuen gret sorwe maked,
232
‘Felawes, wil we ous armi?
Gij to help we ouȝt to spede;
For to help he haþ gret nede,
Wele ich wot bi mi sweuen.
Now help ous god þat is in heuen!’
Y-armed þai ben sone anon,
& on hors þai lopen ichon,
& wendeþ forþ wiþ gode wille
Ouer þe dounes & þe dales snelle.
Wiþ alle her miȝt þai heye fast
For to socour Gij on hast.
Þe Sarrazins þai gun þretni,
& made gret sorwe for Gij.
Þai seyd alle þat þer were,
Hem dred þai him seye neuere;
Oþer ded he was oþer y-nome,
For him þai were sori alle & some.
Sone þai neyȝed toward þat ost,
Of Sarrazins þai herd gret bost;
Of hem was wrin al þe feld,
On hors þai were wiþ spere & scheld,
Þat euerichon þai þretten Gij:
Him to slen þai han gret envie.
Amonges hem þai seye Gyoun
Þat him wered als a lyoun.
On ich half þai him aseyle,
& he him werþ wiþ-outen feyle.
Bi þe reynes þai ben him neye niminge,
Ac he him werþ wiþ swerd kerueing;
Mani he smot of fot & fest;
He hadde al nede, la, wite Crist!
Now þai bigin to prike swiþe,
To socour Gij þai han gret hye.
Herhaud him smot a Sarrazin,
Þat litel him halp his Apolin.
Þai smiten togider & fast þrung,
Þai corwen þurch liuer & þurch lunge;
Þe Sarrazins þai teche an iuel play,
Euerich on oþer y-slawe lay.
Herhaud is ful wele bifalle,
He socourþe Gij wiþ his felawes alle.
Amonges hem was gret gladn-esse:
Þe most hepe wepen for blis;
Þai kisten Gij alle for blis,
& þonked god ful ȝern, y-wis.
To socour Gij þai han gret hye.
Herhaud him smot a Sarrazin,
Þat litel him halp his Apolin.
234
Þai corwen þurch liuer & þurch lunge;
Þe Sarrazins þai teche an iuel play,
Euerich on oþer y-slawe lay.
Herhaud is ful wele bifalle,
He socourþe Gij wiþ his felawes alle.
Amonges hem was gret gladn-esse:
Þe most hepe wepen for blis;
Þai kisten Gij alle for blis,
& þonked god ful ȝern, y-wis.
Þe Sarrazins wenten alle oȝen,
Sori & dreri alle þai ben.
Þai token her lordes bodi þere,
As sori wreches oway it bere;
To Ascone þai ben þer-wiþ y-come,
Y-schent þai ben alle & some.
Gij, & Herhaud, & her meyne
Glad & bliþe alle ben he.
Þat heued þai han on a spere y-sett
(Þer miȝt men se þat Gij was wel net),
Bifore him bere þat it haþ y-do.
Mani on pelt her finger þer-to.
Into þe cite þai gun it bring,
For ioie þai gun þe belles ring.
Sir Gij to þemperour y-comen is,
Þe heued he him ȝalt, y-wis:
Þemperour gret þanke him can,
& in þat cite he doþ make onan
A piler of gray marbel ston:
Þat heued he sett anon þer-on.
In swiche wise deuised it was,
Þat it was biwreyen in bras,
Whar-þurch þat oþer miȝt ben war
To come wiþ ani ost more þar.
Sori & dreri alle þai ben.
Þai token her lordes bodi þere,
As sori wreches oway it bere;
To Ascone þai ben þer-wiþ y-come,
Y-schent þai ben alle & some.
Gij, & Herhaud, & her meyne
Glad & bliþe alle ben he.
Þat heued þai han on a spere y-sett
(Þer miȝt men se þat Gij was wel net),
Bifore him bere þat it haþ y-do.
Mani on pelt her finger þer-to.
Into þe cite þai gun it bring,
For ioie þai gun þe belles ring.
Sir Gij to þemperour y-comen is,
Þe heued he him ȝalt, y-wis:
Þemperour gret þanke him can,
& in þat cite he doþ make onan
A piler of gray marbel ston:
Þat heued he sett anon þer-on.
In swiche wise deuised it was,
Þat it was biwreyen in bras,
Whar-þurch þat oþer miȝt ben war
To come wiþ ani ost more þar.
Þan Gij hadde y-don so
Þemperour cleped Gij him to:
‘Welcome be þou to me, sir Gij!
Hennes for dayes þritti
Michel monschip ichil þe do,
Mi feir douhter ȝiue þe to.’
To þemperour onswerd sir Gij,
‘An hundred siþe, sir, gramerci!’
Þemperour cleped Gij him to:
236
Hennes for dayes þritti
Michel monschip ichil þe do,
Mi feir douhter ȝiue þe to.’
To þemperour onswerd sir Gij,
‘An hundred siþe, sir, gramerci!’
Þemperour aros amorwe þo,
To sen þe cuntre þai ben y-go;
Alle þat day þai riden hem so
Alle what euen, þai rested hem þo.
Þai seye toward a pleyn plas
Þat bisiden a doun was.
A lyoun þai seye cominde þo,
Bot a smal pas no miȝt he go,
Wiþ ȝenende mouþe, & weri he was.
Gij þat seye & seyd, ‘allas!
Whi, no haddestow help non?’
Ac þat lyon þai dradden ichon,
To sen þe cuntre þai ben y-go;
Alle þat day þai riden hem so
Alle what euen, þai rested hem þo.
Þai seye toward a pleyn plas
Þat bisiden a doun was.
A lyoun þai seye cominde þo,
Bot a smal pas no miȝt he go,
Wiþ ȝenende mouþe, & weri he was.
Gij þat seye & seyd, ‘allas!
Whi, no haddestow help non?’
Ac þat lyon þai dradden ichon,
For wiþ a dragoun he hade y-fouȝt,
& ouercomen he was nere him þouȝt.
& ouercomen he was nere him þouȝt.
Gij anon asked his stede þo,
His spere, & his swerd also:
In his hond a gode swerd he bar;
Þat y-seye alle þat þer war.
When þe dragoun seye com Gij
Þe lyoun he forlett, & gan him sayly.
Wiþ open mouþe oȝaines him he come;
Gij bar his spere oȝaines him anon:
In-to his þrote he it þrest wiþ strengþe;
In his bodi was alle his schaft lengþe,
Þat ded to grounde he feld him þo.
What schuld y make tales mo?
He smot of þe heued, & went oway,
& come to þemperour so sone so he may,
Gyoun, wiþ riȝt gode wille:
Þe lyoun after him folweþ snelle.
Biforn him he goþ swiþe sket,
& folwed him at his stede fet.
His fet he licked, so ȝede he neye,
& lepe vp on his stede an heye,
& seþþe he lepe adoun anon,
& made him gret joie opon.
To þemperour is comen Gij,
Þat of him was glad, sikerli.
Alle þai bihelden þe lyoun,
& hadde gret joie bot þe feloun,
Morgadour þe steward,
Þat euer was Gij oȝeinward.
A liþer tresoun þan þouȝt he,
Þat he wold þe lyoun sle.
Wiþ þat into þe cite þai ben y-gon;
Þemperour went vnto his tour of ston,
& Gij is to his in y-go:
Þe lyoun him folwed euer mo.
Biforn his bed he goþ to ligge,
Fram him he nold, for soþe to sigge.
So long þai riden her jurneys,
And þurch riden þe cuntreys,
Þat to Costentin þai ben y-come.
Þemperour haþ Gij on speche y-nome,
& seyd, ‘Gij, make þe redi:
Tomorwe þou schalt mi douhter weddi.’
Wel sweteliche him answerd sir Gij,
‘Sir emperour, mow gramerci!’
His spere, & his swerd also:
In his hond a gode swerd he bar;
Þat y-seye alle þat þer war.
When þe dragoun seye com Gij
Þe lyoun he forlett, & gan him sayly.
Wiþ open mouþe oȝaines him he come;
Gij bar his spere oȝaines him anon:
238
In his bodi was alle his schaft lengþe,
Þat ded to grounde he feld him þo.
What schuld y make tales mo?
He smot of þe heued, & went oway,
& come to þemperour so sone so he may,
Gyoun, wiþ riȝt gode wille:
Þe lyoun after him folweþ snelle.
Biforn him he goþ swiþe sket,
& folwed him at his stede fet.
His fet he licked, so ȝede he neye,
& lepe vp on his stede an heye,
& seþþe he lepe adoun anon,
& made him gret joie opon.
To þemperour is comen Gij,
Þat of him was glad, sikerli.
Alle þai bihelden þe lyoun,
& hadde gret joie bot þe feloun,
Morgadour þe steward,
Þat euer was Gij oȝeinward.
A liþer tresoun þan þouȝt he,
Þat he wold þe lyoun sle.
Wiþ þat into þe cite þai ben y-gon;
Þemperour went vnto his tour of ston,
& Gij is to his in y-go:
Þe lyoun him folwed euer mo.
Biforn his bed he goþ to ligge,
Fram him he nold, for soþe to sigge.
So long þai riden her jurneys,
And þurch riden þe cuntreys,
Þat to Costentin þai ben y-come.
Þemperour haþ Gij on speche y-nome,
& seyd, ‘Gij, make þe redi:
Tomorwe þou schalt mi douhter weddi.’
Wel sweteliche him answerd sir Gij,
‘Sir emperour, mow gramerci!’
240
Amorwe, so sone so it was day,
Gij him schred in fou & gray;
Wiþ him his felawes also,
To chirche þai gon euer to & to.
Wiþ þat þai ben to chirche y-come
Worþschiplich alle & some,
& þat maiden was also;
Gret joie hadde al her kin þo.
Þe erchebischop was comen also,
Redi þe spouseing for to do.
Gij him schred in fou & gray;
Wiþ him his felawes also,
To chirche þai gon euer to & to.
Wiþ þat þai ben to chirche y-come
Worþschiplich alle & some,
& þat maiden was also;
Gret joie hadde al her kin þo.
Þe erchebischop was comen also,
Redi þe spouseing for to do.
Þemperour seyd to Gij þere:
‘Mi douhter ich ȝiue þe here,
And þritti castels wiþ hir also,
Wiþ þe worþschip þat liþ þer-to,
And half mi lond ich ȝiue þe,
Bifor mi barouns þat here be.
Þou schalt ben emperour after me:
Biforn hem alle y graunt it þe.’
‘Alle,’ he seyd, ‘þat þou bedest me
Ichil afong,’ quaþ Gij, ‘wiþ hert fre.’
Þe erchebischop come forþ
Wiþ a ring, þat miche was worþ;
He tok it Gij, & he it gan afong,
& Gij bi-þouȝt him þan wel strong:
He biþouȝt þan in his wille
Þat Felice he schuld don vnskille;
He þouȝt him repent & wiþ-drawe,
Wheþer he miȝt hir lete oþer haue.
Leuer him þouȝt to han hir bodi on
Wiþ-outen siluer & gold & precious ston,
Þan alle oþer þat were o liue
Wiþ alle þe gode men miȝt him ȝiue.
Gij sett him adoun anon,
& seyd swiche iuel is comen him on,
Þat he no may of þe stede gon,
Him þenkeþ his hert brekeþ ato.
Gij fel aswoning in þat plas,
& aros vp sone after þas;
Gij seyd an heye to þemperour:
‘Sir, y þe pray paramour,
Þat þis fest deleyed be
Fort efsones, y bidde þe,
Þat ich am apassed þis hache,
& þat ich in gode hele be.’
Quaþ þemperour, ‘þat reweþ me,
Þis sposayl schal delayed be.’
Þennes hij gon alle y-fere,
Alle sone wiþ droupeand chere.
Þat maiden wepe & was sori,
For Gij no miȝt hir spousi,
For neuer more hij no wende
Wiþ loue com him hende;
No ioie ne may comen hir inne,
For hij no wende him neuer winne.
Sche wrong hir honden & wepe sore,
Sorwe made neuer wiman more;
Sche wrong hir fingres & tar hir here,
& curssed þe time þat moder hir ber,
& þe time þat hye biȝeten was;
Neuer woman wers nas.
Gij is to his in y-go,
‘Mi douhter ich ȝiue þe here,
And þritti castels wiþ hir also,
Wiþ þe worþschip þat liþ þer-to,
And half mi lond ich ȝiue þe,
Bifor mi barouns þat here be.
Þou schalt ben emperour after me:
Biforn hem alle y graunt it þe.’
‘Alle,’ he seyd, ‘þat þou bedest me
Ichil afong,’ quaþ Gij, ‘wiþ hert fre.’
Þe erchebischop come forþ
Wiþ a ring, þat miche was worþ;
He tok it Gij, & he it gan afong,
& Gij bi-þouȝt him þan wel strong:
He biþouȝt þan in his wille
Þat Felice he schuld don vnskille;
He þouȝt him repent & wiþ-drawe,
Wheþer he miȝt hir lete oþer haue.
Leuer him þouȝt to han hir bodi on
Wiþ-outen siluer & gold & precious ston,
Þan alle oþer þat were o liue
Wiþ alle þe gode men miȝt him ȝiue.
Gij sett him adoun anon,
& seyd swiche iuel is comen him on,
Þat he no may of þe stede gon,
Him þenkeþ his hert brekeþ ato.
242
& aros vp sone after þas;
Gij seyd an heye to þemperour:
‘Sir, y þe pray paramour,
Þat þis fest deleyed be
Fort efsones, y bidde þe,
Þat ich am apassed þis hache,
& þat ich in gode hele be.’
Quaþ þemperour, ‘þat reweþ me,
Þis sposayl schal delayed be.’
Þennes hij gon alle y-fere,
Alle sone wiþ droupeand chere.
Þat maiden wepe & was sori,
For Gij no miȝt hir spousi,
For neuer more hij no wende
Wiþ loue com him hende;
No ioie ne may comen hir inne,
For hij no wende him neuer winne.
Sche wrong hir honden & wepe sore,
Sorwe made neuer wiman more;
Sche wrong hir fingres & tar hir here,
& curssed þe time þat moder hir ber,
& þe time þat hye biȝeten was;
Neuer woman wers nas.
No wist noman of his wo
Bot him self: bi niȝt and day
Al a fourten niȝt sike he lay,
Þat he no com his bed fram,
No out atte dore he no cam.
Now wille we of Gij duelle,
& of his lyoun ichil ȝou telle;
Of his lyoun, hou he fard:
Þer while þat Gij lay sike so hard
Nold he noiþer ete no drink,
Ac sorwe he made and gret morning.
244
& alle his conseyl schewed him þo.
‘Sir Herhaud,’ he seyd, ‘conseyl me:
Of mi conseyl ich oxi þe,
Ȝif y schal þemperours douhter take,
Or ȝete abide forþ & hir for-sake.
Ich haue a leman in Inglond
(To telle þe nil y nouȝt wond),
Þerls douhter Rohaut y-wis,
Felice, þat feir maiden of pris.
Oþer þan hir loue y no may,
Sir Herhaud, for soþe to say.’
Herhaud onswerd: ‘ichil ȝou telle
Þe best conseyl ich haue in wille.
Ȝif þou þemperours douhter afo
Riche þou best euer mo:
After him þou best emperour.
God haþ y-don þe gret anour:
In þe world ne worþ man of so gret miȝt,
No of so gret pouer, y pliȝt.
More riches þe worþ bi a þousandel
Boþe of cites & of riche castel,
Forestes ful of hertes beld,
Þan þerl Rohaut haþ in weld.’
‘Stille be þou,’ quaþ Gij, ‘of þat þouȝt.
Now ich wot þou louest me nouȝt,
When þou conseyls me mi leman fro.
Mi liif to lese, nil ich it do.’
‘Sir,’ quaþ Herhaud, ‘ich-il be stille,
When it is oȝain þi wille.
Þat þou hir louedest wist y nouȝt,
& þo þou of conseyl me bisouȝt,
Þe best ich wold ȝiue þe
Þat ich hadde wiþ-in me.
When þou Felice loues so,
Vn-riȝt it were & þou hir for-go.’
246
Gij aros after þe fourtenniȝt
Glad & bliþe wiþ hert liȝt.
He is to þe court y-come,
& ful welcome to alle & some.
Wiþ him his lyoun to court ȝe[de] þo,
Þurch whom aros gret sorwe & wo.
Þemperour of Gij wel bliþe he was;
Into al þe court no noþer þer nas
Al bot Morgadour, sikerliche:
He hated Gij wel inliche.
For þe maiden he hadde Gij in hete.
Gij bileft in court atte mete,
Him to play & solanci.
Þo at þe court bileft sir Gij,
Þer whiles þe king ate mete sat,
Þe lyoun goþ to play wiþ-outen þe ȝat
In pais wiþ-outen vilanie.
Herkeneþ now, lordinges, gladli:
When þemperour hadde y-hete,
Gode while Gij haþ bi him sete,
Wiþ him to pley in compeynie:
Solas he loued wiþouten vilanie.
Þat ich while his lyoun
Ȝede out of þe pauiloun:
Al abouten he is y-go,
For to resten him in a wro:
Oȝain þe sonne he slepe in a stede,
Gret while of þe day & so he dede.
When Gij wold his way he nam,
Vnto his in þat he cam.
Þe lyoun no folwed him nouȝt,
In an erber he slepe wel soft.
Þan was þe steward goinde,
In-to an orchard al-on cominde.
Vnder a windowe he him seye
Wher þe lyoun lay wel neye,
For to resten him in a wro.
‘Bi god,’ quaþ þe steward þo,
‘Þe lyoun liþ here now slepeing,’
Seyd Morgadour in his þouȝt þenking.
A scharpe wepen þer forþ he drouȝ,
& þe lyoun þer-wiþ he slouȝ.
Þe lyoun afrayd vp stert,
As he þat was to deþ y-hert.
Ac a maiden þat y-seye,
& grad to þe steward an heye:
‘Sir steward, þat was iuel y-smite.4
In vnworþschip it worþ þe at-wite.’
Þe lyoun him goþ forþ groning,
His guttes after him draweing.
To Gyes in he is y-go,
In a chaumber he fond him þo:
At his fete he fel doun in þat stede,
To hauen of him socour at nede.
His hondes he gan to licky:
Þat was his loue, sikerly.
When Gij þat lyoun wounded seþ,
For sorwe him þouȝt his hert clef.
‘O lord,’ he seyd, ‘god almiȝt,
Who haþ þe so iuel y-diȝt?
Þat mi lyoun haþ y-slawe me,
Y nold it wer don for þis cite,
No þat þer-to bilonge.
So michel sorwe me haþ afong.’
In swiche wretþe & grame anouȝ
His gode swerd wiþ strengþe he drouȝ;
Seþþen on his stede he wond,
His swerd y-drawe in his hond:
To þe court he com prikeing.
Wele hij seyen bi his lokeing
Þat he is sori & swiþe wroþ:
Alle oȝaines him þai goþ.
‘Lordinges,’ quaþ Gij, ‘ich ȝou biseche,
Ȝif ani of ȝou me can teche,
Who slouȝ mi lyoun to-day.’
Alle þai seyd, ‘sir, certes, nay.’
Wiþ þat into þe halle he come,
A maiden he mett þer anon.
Glad & bliþe wiþ hert liȝt.
He is to þe court y-come,
& ful welcome to alle & some.
Wiþ him his lyoun to court ȝe[de] þo,
Þurch whom aros gret sorwe & wo.
Þemperour of Gij wel bliþe he was;
Into al þe court no noþer þer nas
Al bot Morgadour, sikerliche:
He hated Gij wel inliche.
For þe maiden he hadde Gij in hete.
Gij bileft in court atte mete,
Him to play & solanci.
Þo at þe court bileft sir Gij,
Þer whiles þe king ate mete sat,
Þe lyoun goþ to play wiþ-outen þe ȝat
In pais wiþ-outen vilanie.
Herkeneþ now, lordinges, gladli:
When þemperour hadde y-hete,
Gode while Gij haþ bi him sete,
Wiþ him to pley in compeynie:
Solas he loued wiþouten vilanie.
Þat ich while his lyoun
Ȝede out of þe pauiloun:
Al abouten he is y-go,
For to resten him in a wro:
Oȝain þe sonne he slepe in a stede,
Gret while of þe day & so he dede.
When Gij wold his way he nam,
Vnto his in þat he cam.
Þe lyoun no folwed him nouȝt,
In an erber he slepe wel soft.
Þan was þe steward goinde,
In-to an orchard al-on cominde.
Vnder a windowe he him seye
Wher þe lyoun lay wel neye,
248
‘Bi god,’ quaþ þe steward þo,
‘Þe lyoun liþ here now slepeing,’
Seyd Morgadour in his þouȝt þenking.
A scharpe wepen þer forþ he drouȝ,
& þe lyoun þer-wiþ he slouȝ.
Þe lyoun afrayd vp stert,
As he þat was to deþ y-hert.
Ac a maiden þat y-seye,
& grad to þe steward an heye:
‘Sir steward, þat was iuel y-smite.4
In vnworþschip it worþ þe at-wite.’
Þe lyoun him goþ forþ groning,
His guttes after him draweing.
To Gyes in he is y-go,
In a chaumber he fond him þo:
At his fete he fel doun in þat stede,
To hauen of him socour at nede.
His hondes he gan to licky:
Þat was his loue, sikerly.
When Gij þat lyoun wounded seþ,
For sorwe him þouȝt his hert clef.
‘O lord,’ he seyd, ‘god almiȝt,
Who haþ þe so iuel y-diȝt?
Þat mi lyoun haþ y-slawe me,
Y nold it wer don for þis cite,
No þat þer-to bilonge.
So michel sorwe me haþ afong.’
In swiche wretþe & grame anouȝ
His gode swerd wiþ strengþe he drouȝ;
Seþþen on his stede he wond,
His swerd y-drawe in his hond:
To þe court he com prikeing.
Wele hij seyen bi his lokeing
Þat he is sori & swiþe wroþ:
Alle oȝaines him þai goþ.
250
Ȝif ani of ȝou me can teche,
Who slouȝ mi lyoun to-day.’
Alle þai seyd, ‘sir, certes, nay.’
Wiþ þat into þe halle he come,
A maiden he mett þer anon.
‘Sir Gij,’ she seyd, ‘leue swete,
Is þi lyoun ded, or liues ȝete?
For þurchout smite ichim seye.’
Þo seyd Gij: ‘mi swete lef, ney,
Ich þe bidde, for-hele it nouȝt,
Who haþ mi lyoun to deþ y-brouȝt?’
‘Sir,’ sche seyd, ‘Morgadour,
Þat is steward wiþ þemperour:
Þurch þe bodi he him smot.
His deþ it worþ, wele y wot.’
When he herd þat ich feloun
Hadde y-slawe his lyoun,
Out of halle he gan driue
Fram chaumber to chaumber al-so swiþe,
Wiþ naked swerd in his hond:
Ȝif he him findeþ he goþ to schond.
Into a chaumber he com þat stounde,
& Morgadour sone he founde
Wiþ his nevou in conseyl fast:
When þai seye Gij þai weren agast.
Gij seyd: ‘þou me hast bitreyd
When þou to grounde mi lyoun leyd.
No dede ich þe neuer bot gode,
Þou fel treytour, vnkinde blod.’
Is þi lyoun ded, or liues ȝete?
For þurchout smite ichim seye.’
Þo seyd Gij: ‘mi swete lef, ney,
Ich þe bidde, for-hele it nouȝt,
Who haþ mi lyoun to deþ y-brouȝt?’
‘Sir,’ sche seyd, ‘Morgadour,
Þat is steward wiþ þemperour:
Þurch þe bodi he him smot.
His deþ it worþ, wele y wot.’
When he herd þat ich feloun
Hadde y-slawe his lyoun,
Out of halle he gan driue
Fram chaumber to chaumber al-so swiþe,
Wiþ naked swerd in his hond:
Ȝif he him findeþ he goþ to schond.
Into a chaumber he com þat stounde,
& Morgadour sone he founde
Wiþ his nevou in conseyl fast:
When þai seye Gij þai weren agast.
Gij seyd: ‘þou me hast bitreyd
When þou to grounde mi lyoun leyd.
No dede ich þe neuer bot gode,
Þou fel treytour, vnkinde blod.’
Morgadour answerd anon,
Stalworþ kniȝt as he was on:
‘Þou lexst amidward þi teþ,
& þer-fore haue þou maugreþ.
Whi berstow me on treysoun,
Þat ich haue sleyn þi lioun?’
Gij wiþ his kniif smite he wold,
Ac Gij him suffri nold:
His swerd anon vp he hef,
Morgadour doun riȝt he clef
Fram þe heued doun to þe fot:
Of þat stroke no com him neuer bot.
Stalworþ kniȝt as he was on:
‘Þou lexst amidward þi teþ,
& þer-fore haue þou maugreþ.
Whi berstow me on treysoun,
Þat ich haue sleyn þi lioun?’
252
Ac Gij him suffri nold:
His swerd anon vp he hef,
Morgadour doun riȝt he clef
Fram þe heued doun to þe fot:
Of þat stroke no com him neuer bot.
When his nevou y-seye þat cas,
Þat his em so smiten was,
Him to awreke him þouȝt long,
& as he schuld his dart afong,
His arme atvo smot Gij,
& he him anon crid merci.
Gij for rewþe is þennes y-gon,
& cam to þemperour anon,
& seþþe he seyd to þemperour:
‘Ich haue þe serued wiþ gret honour;
Ȝolden þou hast me iuel mi while,
When þi folk þurch tresoun & gile
Haue mi lyoun to deþ y-brouȝt.
Mi while is iuel ȝalt: he it haþ abouȝt.
For soþe he me to þe biwreyd,
& now to grounde mi lyoun is leyd.
Ded he liþe al to-hewe
Þi steward, at wordes fewe:
Wele ich haue ȝolden him his treysoun,
& þat he slouȝ mi lyoun.
Seþþe þou no miȝt nouȝt waranti me,
Whar-to schuld y serui þe,
On oncouþe man in thi lond,
When þou no dost him bot schond?
Harm me is, & michel misdo;
Þer-fore ichil fram þe go,
& in oþer cuntres serue y wile,
Þer men wille ȝeld me mi while.’
‘Merci, sir Gij,’ seyd þemperour þo.
‘Ȝif ani of our haþ þe misdo,
Swiche riȝt do als tow wilt,
& take þe amendes after þe gilt;
For alle þai schul be þine men [an]on,
In þi nede serue þe ichon,
& at þi wille take her catel.
Wiþ-drawe þi mod, sir, y bidde þe wel:
Ich wil þatow to-morwen arly
Mi douhter at þe chirche spousy.’
Þat his em so smiten was,
Him to awreke him þouȝt long,
& as he schuld his dart afong,
His arme atvo smot Gij,
& he him anon crid merci.
Gij for rewþe is þennes y-gon,
& cam to þemperour anon,
& seþþe he seyd to þemperour:
‘Ich haue þe serued wiþ gret honour;
Ȝolden þou hast me iuel mi while,
When þi folk þurch tresoun & gile
Haue mi lyoun to deþ y-brouȝt.
Mi while is iuel ȝalt: he it haþ abouȝt.
For soþe he me to þe biwreyd,
& now to grounde mi lyoun is leyd.
Ded he liþe al to-hewe
Þi steward, at wordes fewe:
Wele ich haue ȝolden him his treysoun,
& þat he slouȝ mi lyoun.
Seþþe þou no miȝt nouȝt waranti me,
Whar-to schuld y serui þe,
On oncouþe man in thi lond,
When þou no dost him bot schond?
Harm me is, & michel misdo;
Þer-fore ichil fram þe go,
& in oþer cuntres serue y wile,
Þer men wille ȝeld me mi while.’
‘Merci, sir Gij,’ seyd þemperour þo.
‘Ȝif ani of our haþ þe misdo,
254
& take þe amendes after þe gilt;
For alle þai schul be þine men [an]on,
In þi nede serue þe ichon,
& at þi wille take her catel.
Wiþ-drawe þi mod, sir, y bidde þe wel:
Ich wil þatow to-morwen arly
Mi douhter at þe chirche spousy.’
Gij answerd: ‘þerof speke nouȝt:
Hir to nim nam ich nouȝt biþouȝt;
For, ȝif þou haddest me hir ȝiue,
& ich hir toke þer whiles y liue,
Þan wold þi men anon,
Þat wonderful be mani on,
Þe seggen wiþ deshonour
Þou haddest made a pouer man emperour,
& vnworþ þai wold holden of me,
& sum edwite þer wold be
Þat þi douhter desperplid were,
Ȝif þou to me hadde ȝiuen her here.
Leuer ich hadde litel wiþ worþschipe
Þan michel welden wiþ schenschipe.
Þer-fore, sir emperour, y þe telle,
In non maner bileuen y nille.
Whende ichil in-to mi cuntre,
Mine frendes to visite & to se.’
Leue he toke wiþ þat speche,
& seyd, ‘godes sone y þe biteche.’
When þemperour wiþ-holden him no may
(He seþ his wille is to wende o-way),
Wepen he gan wiþ his eyȝen tvo:
Alle þo of þe court dede al-so.
His grete tresour he dede forþ bring,
& bede it Gij to his likeing,
Ac þerof liked him nouȝt to take:
Anouȝ he hadde of Sarrazins blake.
Al-so a gode man dede þemperour þere:
Þer-after to alle Gyes fere
Riche tresour þan ȝaf he,
Gold and siluer gret plente,
As miche as þai wold vnder-fo;
For þemperour it comend so.
Gret [pris] þai ȝeue þemperour,
Þat he was man of gret honour.
Gij diȝt him wiþ riche dubbeing,
Riche wede he dede for him bring.
Of þemperour he toke his leue,
& he al wepend it him ȝeue,
& alle þe kniȝtes of the cite,
Of euerichon leue nam he.
Þer miȝt men se sorwe make,
For sir Gij wold fram hem rake;
Wimen & children mani on,
For him þai wepen euerichon:
Þer whiles he was in her ferred,
Of no wer no stode hem drede.
Hir to nim nam ich nouȝt biþouȝt;
For, ȝif þou haddest me hir ȝiue,
& ich hir toke þer whiles y liue,
Þan wold þi men anon,
Þat wonderful be mani on,
Þe seggen wiþ deshonour
Þou haddest made a pouer man emperour,
& vnworþ þai wold holden of me,
& sum edwite þer wold be
Þat þi douhter desperplid were,
Ȝif þou to me hadde ȝiuen her here.
Leuer ich hadde litel wiþ worþschipe
Þan michel welden wiþ schenschipe.
Þer-fore, sir emperour, y þe telle,
In non maner bileuen y nille.
Whende ichil in-to mi cuntre,
Mine frendes to visite & to se.’
Leue he toke wiþ þat speche,
& seyd, ‘godes sone y þe biteche.’
When þemperour wiþ-holden him no may
(He seþ his wille is to wende o-way),
Wepen he gan wiþ his eyȝen tvo:
Alle þo of þe court dede al-so.
His grete tresour he dede forþ bring,
& bede it Gij to his likeing,
Ac þerof liked him nouȝt to take:
Anouȝ he hadde of Sarrazins blake.
256
Þer-after to alle Gyes fere
Riche tresour þan ȝaf he,
Gold and siluer gret plente,
As miche as þai wold vnder-fo;
For þemperour it comend so.
Gret [pris] þai ȝeue þemperour,
Þat he was man of gret honour.
Gij diȝt him wiþ riche dubbeing,
Riche wede he dede for him bring.
Of þemperour he toke his leue,
& he al wepend it him ȝeue,
& alle þe kniȝtes of the cite,
Of euerichon leue nam he.
Þer miȝt men se sorwe make,
For sir Gij wold fram hem rake;
Wimen & children mani on,
For him þai wepen euerichon:
Þer whiles he was in her ferred,
Of no wer no stode hem drede.
Þemperour cleped Herbaud him to,
& aresound him tvene hem tvo:
‘Sir Herhaud, þou schalt bileue wiþ me.
Wele ich þe sigge, & siker þou be,
Þat ich in þis ȝere wille ȝiue þe
Þe richest honour þat in mi lond be.’
‘Sir,’ quaþ Herhaud, ‘gramerci!
Wele ȝe wite icham wiþ sir Gij.
Y no wil depart him fro
For non honour men may me do.’
& aresound him tvene hem tvo:
‘Sir Herhaud, þou schalt bileue wiþ me.
Wele ich þe sigge, & siker þou be,
Þat ich in þis ȝere wille ȝiue þe
Þe richest honour þat in mi lond be.’
‘Sir,’ quaþ Herhaud, ‘gramerci!
Wele ȝe wite icham wiþ sir Gij.
Y no wil depart him fro
For non honour men may me do.’
Sir Gij to his in is y-go,
& areliche amorwe he aros þo:
Into Inglond he went, god itot,
Ac when þemperour þat soþe wot,
Þat Gij þe curteys is y-go,
At his hert him was ful wo;
So was Blauncheflour þe schene:
For his loue sche þoled tene.
Toward Inglond is Gij y-drawe,
& wiþ him Herhaud, his gode felawe.
Swiþe hastiliche þai gun ride,
Þe weder was hot in somers tide.
& areliche amorwe he aros þo:
Into Inglond he went, god itot,
Ac when þemperour þat soþe wot,
Þat Gij þe curteys is y-go,
At his hert him was ful wo;
258
For his loue sche þoled tene.
Toward Inglond is Gij y-drawe,
& wiþ him Herhaud, his gode felawe.
Swiþe hastiliche þai gun ride,
Þe weder was hot in somers tide.
In May it was also ich wene,
When floures sprede & springeþ grene:
Into a forest sir Gij is go
Neye a cite, nouȝt fer þer-fro.
Þan seyd Gij to his meyney:
‘Wendeþ swiþe wel an heye,
Mine in to nim in þe cite;
Ich wil a while here pleye me,
For to here þe foules singe.’
Þer-in was þo his likeinge.
His folk he doþ fram him go,
Alon bileft sir Gij þo:
Hadde he noiþer knaue no grome,
Seriaunt no squier non.
Selcouþe it was for to here:
In priue stede stode Gij þere;
So michel he herd þo foules sing,
Þat him þouȝt he was in gret longing.
So mani þinges he of þouȝt,
Þat out of his riȝt way him brouȝt.
So long forþ he is rideing,
In his weye forþ secheing,
Þat o groning fram fer he herd:
He of-list, & thider he ferd.
Þe mening seyd, ‘allas, allas,
Þat ich was born for swiche trespas!
Ac now is me iuel bifelle:
Deþ, whi wiltow so long duelle?’
Þiderward sir Gij him drouȝ,
And loked vnder an hawe-þorn bouȝ.
Þe bodi he seye of a kniȝt:
Þerof he hadde wonder, apliȝt.
Feir & michel he him seþ:
Gij þenkeþ michel, & nouȝt no seyþ.
Þat hors he prikeþ, & forþ he goþ:
Þat bodi he bihalt inliche forsoþ.
His barbel first adoun he deþ,
Wiþ-outen colour his neb he seþ
For þe blod he hadde for-lore,
Þat of his bodi he hadde forþ bore.
Y-girt he was wiþ a gode swerd,
Þat was wele kerueand doun to þe uerd.
Wele he was y-armed gentilliche.
Gij of him hadde reuþe miche:
His name he asked sweteliche,
Who him biseye so reweliche.
‘What is þi name? where wer þou bore?
& who haþ y-wounded þe so sore?
Ich þe bidde þatow say me,
& for soþe y pliȝt þe
For me schaltow harm haue non.
Who haþ þe þus iuel bi-gon?’
He answerd, ‘þat wille y nouȝt.
In mine hert is swiche sorwe brouȝt,
Þat y dar schewe þe no speche.
Lete me dye, y þe biseche.
So michel sigge y þe, sir kniȝt,
Ȝif þou wilt pliȝt me anon riȝt
Þi treuþe in hond mine,
Siker þou be þat al mi pine
& alle mine estris ichil telle þe;
Elles no wostow it nouȝt for me.’
His treuþe sone he him pliȝt,
His liif he teld him anon riȝt.
When floures sprede & springeþ grene:
Into a forest sir Gij is go
Neye a cite, nouȝt fer þer-fro.
Þan seyd Gij to his meyney:
‘Wendeþ swiþe wel an heye,
Mine in to nim in þe cite;
Ich wil a while here pleye me,
For to here þe foules singe.’
Þer-in was þo his likeinge.
His folk he doþ fram him go,
Alon bileft sir Gij þo:
Hadde he noiþer knaue no grome,
Seriaunt no squier non.
Selcouþe it was for to here:
In priue stede stode Gij þere;
So michel he herd þo foules sing,
Þat him þouȝt he was in gret longing.
So mani þinges he of þouȝt,
Þat out of his riȝt way him brouȝt.
So long forþ he is rideing,
In his weye forþ secheing,
Þat o groning fram fer he herd:
He of-list, & thider he ferd.
Þe mening seyd, ‘allas, allas,
Þat ich was born for swiche trespas!
Ac now is me iuel bifelle:
Deþ, whi wiltow so long duelle?’
Þiderward sir Gij him drouȝ,
And loked vnder an hawe-þorn bouȝ.
260
Þerof he hadde wonder, apliȝt.
Feir & michel he him seþ:
Gij þenkeþ michel, & nouȝt no seyþ.
Þat hors he prikeþ, & forþ he goþ:
Þat bodi he bihalt inliche forsoþ.
His barbel first adoun he deþ,
Wiþ-outen colour his neb he seþ
For þe blod he hadde for-lore,
Þat of his bodi he hadde forþ bore.
Y-girt he was wiþ a gode swerd,
Þat was wele kerueand doun to þe uerd.
Wele he was y-armed gentilliche.
Gij of him hadde reuþe miche:
His name he asked sweteliche,
Who him biseye so reweliche.
‘What is þi name? where wer þou bore?
& who haþ y-wounded þe so sore?
Ich þe bidde þatow say me,
& for soþe y pliȝt þe
For me schaltow harm haue non.
Who haþ þe þus iuel bi-gon?’
He answerd, ‘þat wille y nouȝt.
In mine hert is swiche sorwe brouȝt,
Þat y dar schewe þe no speche.
Lete me dye, y þe biseche.
So michel sigge y þe, sir kniȝt,
Ȝif þou wilt pliȝt me anon riȝt
Þi treuþe in hond mine,
Siker þou be þat al mi pine
& alle mine estris ichil telle þe;
Elles no wostow it nouȝt for me.’
His treuþe sone he him pliȝt,
His liif he teld him anon riȝt.
Now he seyd: ‘sir kniȝt fre,
Mi name y þe telle, & whennes y be.
Of Gormoise icham cleped Tirri,
Þeld erls sone Aubri.
Wiþ þe douke of Loreyne ichaue y-be.
Mi name y þe telle, & whennes y be.
262
Þeld erls sone Aubri.
Wiþ þe douke of Loreyne ichaue y-be.
A feir douhter þan hadde he:
Ouer alle oþer we loueden ous,
& for loue treuþe pliȝten þus.
For non oþer sche nold me lete,
No y no loued non bot þat swete
In godes lawe, for soþe y-wis:
Swiche a treuþe bitvix ous is.
Armes for hir loue y nam,
& now y thouȝt to han went ham.
Mi priis ichaue wide y-souȝt
Fram stede to oþer, no wond y nouȝt.
& for loue treuþe pliȝten þus.
For non oþer sche nold me lete,
No y no loued non bot þat swete
In godes lawe, for soþe y-wis:
Swiche a treuþe bitvix ous is.
Armes for hir loue y nam,
& now y thouȝt to han went ham.
Mi priis ichaue wide y-souȝt
Fram stede to oþer, no wond y nouȝt.
Þan come fram hir to me a sond
Þat brouȝt me miche sorwe an hond,
Þat þe douke Otus of Paui
Wald mi leman spousey,
To wham ich was treuþe-pliȝt:
Oisel was hir name ful riȝt;
Þat bi letters sche sent to me,
& bi toknes þat wer so fre,
Þat, ȝif ich hir habbe wold,
Þat to hir comen y schold
To on day þat was y-sett,
Oþer sche worþ fro me fett.
To hir ward y gan spede
Wiþ þritti kniȝtes in mi ferred:
Eueriche of ous his stede bistrode,
& riden ous forþ wiþouten abode,
Wher þe douke Otus was & his ferred
Wiþ an hundred kniȝtes of gret pride,
& wele to hundred of seriaunce
Of Lombardy & of Fraunce,
For to spouse min owhen wiif,
Þat y loued more þan mi liif.
When y þat wist y sent hir to
So priueliche so ich miȝt it do,
Þat hij schuld come to me:
For gret loue so dede sche;
To me sche come þurch queyntise
Doun of þe castel in selcouþe wise
Bi on cable alle sleyeliche,
Þat folk it no founde, sikerliche.
Y sett hir on a mule amblinde,
In þe way we dede ous rideinde.
Ac þer ich dede gret child-hod,
Þat alto long y þer a-bod.
At our wending of þat cite
Þe liȝt day we miȝten se:
Þer we were y-knowen þo
At a brigge as we hadde go.
Þat ich for Oisel was y-come,
Hir fader it was teld atte frome.
Þurch þe cite þe crie was gradde
Þe maiden was oway ladde.
Þer miȝt men se kniȝtes on hors wende,
& me þai of-token at þe brugge ende.
Þer we stronglich mett wiþ hem:
Mani we slowen of her men.
Alle þai slouȝ mine feren,
Þat swiþe gode kniȝtes weren.
Me þai come to nim snelle,
Ac y nold no longer duelle:
Ich toke mi leman on mi stede,
& ouer þat water wiþ hir ich ȝede.
Alle þat day þai driuen me,
Alle fort þai no miȝt for niȝt y-se.
When y was passed þe riuer ariȝt
In hert y was glad & liȝt:
Þat water passi þai no durstin,
Þan owayward turn þai mostin.
In þis forest y come rideinde,
Bifor me mi leman ledeinde:
Y no dred robours no thef non,
Ac al siker ich wende forþ gon.
What of wakeing, & of fasting,
& eke þat oþer treueyling,
Osleped swiþe sore ich was,
& lay & slepe in þis plas.
Þan com fiftene outlawes strong
Wiþ her men, & here me afong.
Alle slepende þai wounded me.
Anon riȝt nomen he
Mi leman, & þai han hir ladde fro me.
Now, sir, take þerof pite:
Bi þe treuþe þou hast me pliȝt,
Socour mi leman ȝif þou miȝt,
&, when þat ich dede be,
Do me birij, ich bidde þe.
To þat hulle þou wende anon:
Þou hem findes þer ichon.
& ȝif þat þou so miȝti be,
Þatow may hem alle sle,
Winne þou miȝt a maiden fre:
In þe warld may non feirer be.
& ȝete y may þe more telle:
Mi stede þai han, þat is so snelle,
Þat wiþ strengþe in Peyneme ich wan
Of Solagimis, þe sone soudan.
Þer-fore men han y-boden me
.Xv. castels, & touns, & riche cite,
And .xv. somers of siluer & of gold,
Ac for an hundred ȝiuen ichit nold.
Now þou hast, sir, alle y-herd,
Hou ich am bitreyd & amerd.
Take mi scheld, & mi hauberk of stiel
& mi swerd, þat biteþ wel,
& mine armes ich am in diȝt
(For ich þe se man of miche miȝt),
To quite þi treuþe þou hast y-pliȝt.’
Þan stode þer sir Gij vp-riȝt:
Wel depe in hert he haþ y-siȝt.
Grete pite he haþ of þat kniȝt:
He knewe Tirri for his frende,
Þat lay þer in hard bende.
‘Sir,’ he seyd, ‘bi treuþe mine
Þat ich haue pliȝt in hond þine,
Euen forþ mi miȝt ich-il help þe:
More miȝt þou nouȝt oxi me.’
Wiþ þat haþ Gij his brond y-nome,
& his hauberk atte frome,
His scheld, & his oþer wede,
& to þe hulle in gret periil he ȝede.
A loge stonden þer he seye,
& þer wiþ-outen a gode stede & heye,
Þat was to a bouȝ y-teyd.
Gij þeron his talent leyd:
Sterneliche prikeing he come,
His swerd he drouȝ out anon.
He aliȝt, & seyd at his cominge:
‘Þeues, ȝe be ded, wiþouten lesinge.
Awarid worþ ȝe ichon,
Boþe ȝour flessche & ȝour bon.
Whi slouȝ ȝe þat ich kniȝt?
Alle ȝe schul die anon riȝt.
& ȝif ani so hardi be,
Þat hennes stir toward me,
Ich wille ȝou for soþe say
He bes þe first þat schal day.’
An Almaunde he arauȝt:
His heued of at þe first drauȝt.
Ar ani of hem hem were miȝt,
Alle he hem slouȝ, y ȝou pliȝt.
Þo he hadde hem slaun ichon,
He lepe opon his stede anon.
Comen he is to þat mayde,
Wel sweteliche to hir he seyde,
‘Na more sori þou no be,
Ac arise vp, & com wiþ me:
To þi leman y bringe þe sket
Vnder þe þorn þer þou him let.’
Opon a mule sche warþ anon,
To þe hawe-þorn þai ben y-gon,
Ac þai no haue nouȝt þe kniȝt y-founde:
Y-ladde he was owai þat stounde.
Þo he fond him nouȝt, he was sori;
For he wend wel sikerli
Þat lyouns him hadde to-drawe.
He loked adoun vnder þe wode schawe,
If he ouȝt y-herd loude or heye:
Of hors traces hy þer seye.
Þat brouȝt me miche sorwe an hond,
Þat þe douke Otus of Paui
Wald mi leman spousey,
To wham ich was treuþe-pliȝt:
Oisel was hir name ful riȝt;
Þat bi letters sche sent to me,
& bi toknes þat wer so fre,
Þat, ȝif ich hir habbe wold,
Þat to hir comen y schold
To on day þat was y-sett,
Oþer sche worþ fro me fett.
To hir ward y gan spede
Wiþ þritti kniȝtes in mi ferred:
Eueriche of ous his stede bistrode,
& riden ous forþ wiþouten abode,
Wher þe douke Otus was & his ferred
Wiþ an hundred kniȝtes of gret pride,
& wele to hundred of seriaunce
Of Lombardy & of Fraunce,
264
Þat y loued more þan mi liif.
When y þat wist y sent hir to
So priueliche so ich miȝt it do,
Þat hij schuld come to me:
For gret loue so dede sche;
To me sche come þurch queyntise
Doun of þe castel in selcouþe wise
Bi on cable alle sleyeliche,
Þat folk it no founde, sikerliche.
Y sett hir on a mule amblinde,
In þe way we dede ous rideinde.
Ac þer ich dede gret child-hod,
Þat alto long y þer a-bod.
At our wending of þat cite
Þe liȝt day we miȝten se:
Þer we were y-knowen þo
At a brigge as we hadde go.
Þat ich for Oisel was y-come,
Hir fader it was teld atte frome.
Þurch þe cite þe crie was gradde
Þe maiden was oway ladde.
Þer miȝt men se kniȝtes on hors wende,
& me þai of-token at þe brugge ende.
Þer we stronglich mett wiþ hem:
Mani we slowen of her men.
Alle þai slouȝ mine feren,
Þat swiþe gode kniȝtes weren.
Me þai come to nim snelle,
Ac y nold no longer duelle:
Ich toke mi leman on mi stede,
& ouer þat water wiþ hir ich ȝede.
Alle þat day þai driuen me,
Alle fort þai no miȝt for niȝt y-se.
When y was passed þe riuer ariȝt
In hert y was glad & liȝt:
266
Þan owayward turn þai mostin.
In þis forest y come rideinde,
Bifor me mi leman ledeinde:
Y no dred robours no thef non,
Ac al siker ich wende forþ gon.
What of wakeing, & of fasting,
& eke þat oþer treueyling,
Osleped swiþe sore ich was,
& lay & slepe in þis plas.
Þan com fiftene outlawes strong
Wiþ her men, & here me afong.
Alle slepende þai wounded me.
Anon riȝt nomen he
Mi leman, & þai han hir ladde fro me.
Now, sir, take þerof pite:
Bi þe treuþe þou hast me pliȝt,
Socour mi leman ȝif þou miȝt,
&, when þat ich dede be,
Do me birij, ich bidde þe.
To þat hulle þou wende anon:
Þou hem findes þer ichon.
& ȝif þat þou so miȝti be,
Þatow may hem alle sle,
Winne þou miȝt a maiden fre:
In þe warld may non feirer be.
& ȝete y may þe more telle:
Mi stede þai han, þat is so snelle,
Þat wiþ strengþe in Peyneme ich wan
Of Solagimis, þe sone soudan.
Þer-fore men han y-boden me
.Xv. castels, & touns, & riche cite,
And .xv. somers of siluer & of gold,
Ac for an hundred ȝiuen ichit nold.
Now þou hast, sir, alle y-herd,
Hou ich am bitreyd & amerd.
268
& mi swerd, þat biteþ wel,
& mine armes ich am in diȝt
(For ich þe se man of miche miȝt),
To quite þi treuþe þou hast y-pliȝt.’
Þan stode þer sir Gij vp-riȝt:
Wel depe in hert he haþ y-siȝt.
Grete pite he haþ of þat kniȝt:
He knewe Tirri for his frende,
Þat lay þer in hard bende.
‘Sir,’ he seyd, ‘bi treuþe mine
Þat ich haue pliȝt in hond þine,
Euen forþ mi miȝt ich-il help þe:
More miȝt þou nouȝt oxi me.’
Wiþ þat haþ Gij his brond y-nome,
& his hauberk atte frome,
His scheld, & his oþer wede,
& to þe hulle in gret periil he ȝede.
A loge stonden þer he seye,
& þer wiþ-outen a gode stede & heye,
Þat was to a bouȝ y-teyd.
Gij þeron his talent leyd:
Sterneliche prikeing he come,
His swerd he drouȝ out anon.
He aliȝt, & seyd at his cominge:
‘Þeues, ȝe be ded, wiþouten lesinge.
Awarid worþ ȝe ichon,
Boþe ȝour flessche & ȝour bon.
Whi slouȝ ȝe þat ich kniȝt?
Alle ȝe schul die anon riȝt.
& ȝif ani so hardi be,
Þat hennes stir toward me,
Ich wille ȝou for soþe say
He bes þe first þat schal day.’
An Almaunde he arauȝt:
His heued of at þe first drauȝt.
270
Alle he hem slouȝ, y ȝou pliȝt.
Þo he hadde hem slaun ichon,
He lepe opon his stede anon.
Comen he is to þat mayde,
Wel sweteliche to hir he seyde,
‘Na more sori þou no be,
Ac arise vp, & com wiþ me:
To þi leman y bringe þe sket
Vnder þe þorn þer þou him let.’
Opon a mule sche warþ anon,
To þe hawe-þorn þai ben y-gon,
Ac þai no haue nouȝt þe kniȝt y-founde:
Y-ladde he was owai þat stounde.
Þo he fond him nouȝt, he was sori;
For he wend wel sikerli
Þat lyouns him hadde to-drawe.
He loked adoun vnder þe wode schawe,
If he ouȝt y-herd loude or heye:
Of hors traces hy þer seye.
Þat maiden he lete þare,
& after swiþe he is y-fare.
So fast he rode, þat he com neye
Four kniȝtes he þer seye.
Gij of-toke sone þat ferrede,
& seye þan kn[i]ȝt wiþ hem lede.
Gij, þat heye rode on his stede,
Ȝernne he bad ȝif he miȝt spede.
To þe kniȝtes sir Gij him sade:
‘Lordinges, þilke lord þat ȝou made,
& þe niȝt & þe briȝt day,
Ȝou do worþschipe so wele he may.
Ȝif it be ȝour wille speke wiþ me:
To mi speche vnder-stond ȝe.
Lordinges, ich haue mi treuþe y-pliȝt
To him þat ȝe lede, þ[i]lke kniȝt,
Þat biri y schal his bodi:
Mi treuþe y him pliȝt, sikerly.
Al for loue ich ȝou biseche
His bodi þat ȝe me biteche.’
Þat o kniȝt went to him ward,
Þat was þe douke Otus steward,
Þat hadde y-passed þe riuere
In a bot þat he fond þere,
& seyd to Gij, ‘who artow?
Als a fole comen artow now.
Comestow now to aski riȝt
To haue þe bodi of our kniȝt,
For his fere we nim þe snelle,
To þe douke Otous lede we þe wille,
& ȝe schul boþe demed be,
& heye hong on galwe tre.’
& after swiþe he is y-fare.
So fast he rode, þat he com neye
Four kniȝtes he þer seye.
Gij of-toke sone þat ferrede,
& seye þan kn[i]ȝt wiþ hem lede.
Gij, þat heye rode on his stede,
Ȝernne he bad ȝif he miȝt spede.
To þe kniȝtes sir Gij him sade:
‘Lordinges, þilke lord þat ȝou made,
& þe niȝt & þe briȝt day,
Ȝou do worþschipe so wele he may.
Ȝif it be ȝour wille speke wiþ me:
To mi speche vnder-stond ȝe.
Lordinges, ich haue mi treuþe y-pliȝt
To him þat ȝe lede, þ[i]lke kniȝt,
272
Mi treuþe y him pliȝt, sikerly.
Al for loue ich ȝou biseche
His bodi þat ȝe me biteche.’
Þat o kniȝt went to him ward,
Þat was þe douke Otus steward,
Þat hadde y-passed þe riuere
In a bot þat he fond þere,
& seyd to Gij, ‘who artow?
Als a fole comen artow now.
Comestow now to aski riȝt
To haue þe bodi of our kniȝt,
For his fere we nim þe snelle,
To þe douke Otous lede we þe wille,
& ȝe schul boþe demed be,
& heye hong on galwe tre.’
Gij him seyd, ‘þou miseyst,
&, bi mine heued, þou it abeyst.’
&, bi mine heued, þou it abeyst.’
Opon þe heued Gij him smot,
Vnto þe girdel stede þat swerd bot.
Anoþer he smot riȝt anon,
Spare nold [he] neuer on.
Of his hors he has him feld,
His heued he dede fleye in þe feld.
Wiþ þat come þe gode Hogoun,
Þe doukes nevou Otoun:
He smot Gij on þe scheld bifore,
Þat neye he haþ his swerd forlore.
For schame he hadde of þe stroke þare
Gij smot Hogoun, and nouȝt him for-bare:
Ouer-þuert þat swerd glod,
& to-clef him wiþouten abod.
Wharto schuld y make tale of nouȝt?
Alle he haþ hem to deþ y-brouȝt.
He nam Tirri in his armes anon,
& sett him his hors opon.
To þat hawe-þorn he is y-fare,
Þan fond he nouȝt þat maiden þare.
Vnto þe girdel stede þat swerd bot.
Anoþer he smot riȝt anon,
Spare nold [he] neuer on.
Of his hors he has him feld,
His heued he dede fleye in þe feld.
Wiþ þat come þe gode Hogoun,
Þe doukes nevou Otoun:
He smot Gij on þe scheld bifore,
Þat neye he haþ his swerd forlore.
For schame he hadde of þe stroke þare
Gij smot Hogoun, and nouȝt him for-bare:
Ouer-þuert þat swerd glod,
& to-clef him wiþouten abod.
Wharto schuld y make tale of nouȝt?
Alle he haþ hem to deþ y-brouȝt.
274
& sett him his hors opon.
To þat hawe-þorn he is y-fare,
Þan fond he nouȝt þat maiden þare.
Lete we now of Gij be stille:
More ȝe schul here ȝif ȝe wille
Of þat maiden, hou sche was nome:
Þan schal we til our tale come.
Of Gyes felawes y wille ȝou telle
So y finde in mi spelle,
Þat so long were in þe cite,
Wonder hem þenkeþ where Gij be;
For þe mete was alle ȝare,
Wonder hem þouȝt wer Gij ware.
More ȝe schul here ȝif ȝe wille
Of þat maiden, hou sche was nome:
Þan schal we til our tale come.
Of Gyes felawes y wille ȝou telle
So y finde in mi spelle,
Þat so long were in þe cite,
Wonder hem þenkeþ where Gij be;
For þe mete was alle ȝare,
Wonder hem þouȝt wer Gij ware.
Herhaud of Ardern & oþer mo
In-to þe forest þai ben y-go:
Þai miȝt [him] finde for no secheing.
Herhaud cast sone his lokeing:
Biside him he herd a mening,
Also it were a woman schricheing.
Hye bi-gan loude to grede:
Herhaud neyȝed & his ferrede.
Þe haweþorn þai ȝede wel neye,
& þe maiden þer þai seye.
Herhaud hir oxed what hij was;
Sche no told him nouȝt al her cas,
Bot þat sche was a wriche wiman
Þat michel sorwe so was an;
For alle þat sorwe þan hade he,
For sche no miȝt hir leman se.
Sche forbede him anon riȝt
Þat noman sett on hir siȝt.
Herhaud tok þat mayde wiþ him,
& ladde hir hom to his in.
In-to þe forest þai ben y-go:
Þai miȝt [him] finde for no secheing.
Herhaud cast sone his lokeing:
Biside him he herd a mening,
Also it were a woman schricheing.
Hye bi-gan loude to grede:
Herhaud neyȝed & his ferrede.
Þe haweþorn þai ȝede wel neye,
& þe maiden þer þai seye.
Herhaud hir oxed what hij was;
Sche no told him nouȝt al her cas,
Bot þat sche was a wriche wiman
Þat michel sorwe so was an;
For alle þat sorwe þan hade he,
For sche no miȝt hir leman se.
Sche forbede him anon riȝt
Þat noman sett on hir siȝt.
Herhaud tok þat mayde wiþ him,
& ladde hir hom to his in.
Now wende we oȝain to our spelle,
Þat ȝe me herd er þan telle
Of Gij and Tirri, þerls sone,
Hou þai ben to þe hawe-þorn come.
When hij þider y-comen were,
No fond hij nouȝt þe maiden þere.
Gij bileft þer sir Tirri,
& souȝt þat maiden bi & bi:
Op and doun he ȝede hir secheinde,
& sorwefulliche hir bimeninde.
He wende sche were stole wiþ outlawe,
Oþer wiþ wilde bestes y-drawe.
For hir in hert him was ful wo,
Þat he no wist what to do:
No wist he what do he miȝt,
To þe cite he went anon riȝt;
When he hir finde no may,
Homward he most take þe way.
Þan toke he þat kniȝt:
On his stede nek he sett him riȝt.
Y-comen he is to þe cite:
His men al sori findeþ he,
&, when hij her lord seye come,
Bliþe þai were alle & some.
‘Lordinges,’ he seyd, ‘nimeþ þis bodi,
& to þe grounde it lay wel softli.’
Þe bodi þai toke of þat kniȝt,
Opon a pal leyd it anon riȝt.
Gij haþ of-sent leches þere,
Þe wisest þat in þat cite were.
‘Lordinges,’ he seyd, ‘vnderstond to me.
Ȝif ȝe þis kniȝt þat ȝe here se,
May on him his woundes hele,
It worþ ȝou ȝolden eueridele.
Ȝif he dede or liues be,
Ich bi-hot ȝou, min frende fre,
Him to hele ȝour miȝt ȝe do:
An hundred besaunce y ȝif þer-to.’
Þai groped his veynes & his wounde,
Þai feld hem boþe hole & sounde:
Wele hii seþ he nis nouȝt dede.
Þe leches taken hem to rede,
In forward hele him þai wille,
In non maner lete þai nille.
Þat ȝe me herd er þan telle
276
Hou þai ben to þe hawe-þorn come.
When hij þider y-comen were,
No fond hij nouȝt þe maiden þere.
Gij bileft þer sir Tirri,
& souȝt þat maiden bi & bi:
Op and doun he ȝede hir secheinde,
& sorwefulliche hir bimeninde.
He wende sche were stole wiþ outlawe,
Oþer wiþ wilde bestes y-drawe.
For hir in hert him was ful wo,
Þat he no wist what to do:
No wist he what do he miȝt,
To þe cite he went anon riȝt;
When he hir finde no may,
Homward he most take þe way.
Þan toke he þat kniȝt:
On his stede nek he sett him riȝt.
Y-comen he is to þe cite:
His men al sori findeþ he,
&, when hij her lord seye come,
Bliþe þai were alle & some.
‘Lordinges,’ he seyd, ‘nimeþ þis bodi,
& to þe grounde it lay wel softli.’
Þe bodi þai toke of þat kniȝt,
Opon a pal leyd it anon riȝt.
Gij haþ of-sent leches þere,
Þe wisest þat in þat cite were.
‘Lordinges,’ he seyd, ‘vnderstond to me.
Ȝif ȝe þis kniȝt þat ȝe here se,
May on him his woundes hele,
It worþ ȝou ȝolden eueridele.
Ȝif he dede or liues be,
Ich bi-hot ȝou, min frende fre,
Him to hele ȝour miȝt ȝe do:
An hundred besaunce y ȝif þer-to.’
278
Þai feld hem boþe hole & sounde:
Wele hii seþ he nis nouȝt dede.
Þe leches taken hem to rede,
In forward hele him þai wille,
In non maner lete þai nille.
Þerwhiles of-herd sir Gij
Noise, & wepe, & wel gret crie.
His chaumberleyn he cleped him to,
& alle in wretþe he oxed him þo
Who it was þat noise made.
‘Bid hem alle be bliþe & glade.’
Noise, & wepe, & wel gret crie.
His chaumberleyn he cleped him to,
& alle in wretþe he oxed him þo
Who it was þat noise made.
‘Bid hem alle be bliþe & glade.’
‘Sir,’ he seyd, ‘a maiden it is
Þat Herhaud fond, wel feir, y-wis,
Vnder an hawe-þorn in þe forest.’
Quaþ Gij, ‘fete hir to me in hast,
Swiþe þat ich miȝt hir se.
Now hastiliche bringeþ hir to me.’
Þe chaumberleyn is forþ y-gon,
& brouȝt hir bi-forn hem anon.
Gij hir knewe, & gan hir gret,
‘Welcome be þou, mi lef swete,’
As sche was into þe halle y-come,
Wepeinde & sorwende vnder-nome.
Wiþ þat hij seye þat bodi, y-wis,
Liggend on a pal of pris.
Þat Herhaud fond, wel feir, y-wis,
Vnder an hawe-þorn in þe forest.’
Quaþ Gij, ‘fete hir to me in hast,
Swiþe þat ich miȝt hir se.
Now hastiliche bringeþ hir to me.’
Þe chaumberleyn is forþ y-gon,
& brouȝt hir bi-forn hem anon.
Gij hir knewe, & gan hir gret,
‘Welcome be þou, mi lef swete,’
As sche was into þe halle y-come,
Wepeinde & sorwende vnder-nome.
Wiþ þat hij seye þat bodi, y-wis,
Liggend on a pal of pris.
‘A, leman Tirri,’ quaþ sche þo,
‘What, y se þi neb al blo,
Þat so white of colour was:
Þi better neuer y-born nas.
In wroched time mi bodi þou say,
When þou schalt for me day.
Dye ich-il forþ wiþ þe:
For sorwe liues no may y be.
Bot y may dye ichil me quelle:
Leng to libbe is nouȝt mi wille.
Seþþen þou hast þi deþ for me,
For soþe dye ich-il for þe.’
When sche seye Tirri, hir leman,
Ouer him sche fel aswon onan.
Gij hir in his armes nam,
& seyd to hir, ‘mi leue leman,
No make þou nouȝt sorwe so miche:
Þi leman worþ hole hastiliche.’
In þat cite þai bi-leued þere
What Tirry was hole & fere.
To þe wode þai ben y-go:
Miche loue was bitven hem to.
‘What, y se þi neb al blo,
Þat so white of colour was:
Þi better neuer y-born nas.
In wroched time mi bodi þou say,
When þou schalt for me day.
Dye ich-il forþ wiþ þe:
For sorwe liues no may y be.
Bot y may dye ichil me quelle:
Leng to libbe is nouȝt mi wille.
280
For soþe dye ich-il for þe.’
When sche seye Tirri, hir leman,
Ouer him sche fel aswon onan.
Gij hir in his armes nam,
& seyd to hir, ‘mi leue leman,
No make þou nouȝt sorwe so miche:
Þi leman worþ hole hastiliche.’
In þat cite þai bi-leued þere
What Tirry was hole & fere.
To þe wode þai ben y-go:
Miche loue was bitven hem to.
On a day, as þai com fram hunting,
Gij seyd to Tirry, wiþ-outen lesing:
‘Ich wil þat we be treuþe-pliȝt
& sworn breþer anon riȝt.
Tirri,’ seyd to sir Gyoun,
‘Vnder-stond now to mi resoun,
Þat noiþer oþer after þis
No faile oþer while he liues is.’
Gij seyd to Tirry, wiþ-outen lesing:
‘Ich wil þat we be treuþe-pliȝt
& sworn breþer anon riȝt.
Tirri,’ seyd to sir Gyoun,
‘Vnder-stond now to mi resoun,
Þat noiþer oþer after þis
No faile oþer while he liues is.’
Wiþ þat answerd þerl Tirri,
& seyd, ‘wel bleþelich, sir Gij.
Now þou louest so miche me,
Þat tow mi sworn broþer wil be,
No wille ich neuer feyle þe
For nouȝt þat mai bi-falle me.
Gret worþschip þou hast don me:
God leue me ȝete þan day y-se
Þat ichit þe mow wele ȝeld.
For gode baroun þou art y-held;
Fram deþ þou hast y-warist me;
Wel gret wrong it schuld be
Bot ich þe loued as mi lord fre.
Wel gret worþschip ich ouȝt bere þe.’
Treuþe bitven hem is pliȝt,
& after kist anon riȝt.
Seþþen þai went in-to þe cite
Wiþ ioye & mirþe, gamen & gle.
& seyd, ‘wel bleþelich, sir Gij.
Now þou louest so miche me,
Þat tow mi sworn broþer wil be,
No wille ich neuer feyle þe
For nouȝt þat mai bi-falle me.
Gret worþschip þou hast don me:
God leue me ȝete þan day y-se
Þat ichit þe mow wele ȝeld.
For gode baroun þou art y-held;
Fram deþ þou hast y-warist me;
Wel gret wrong it schuld be
Bot ich þe loued as mi lord fre.
Wel gret worþschip ich ouȝt bere þe.’
Treuþe bitven hem is pliȝt,
& after kist anon riȝt.
282
Wiþ ioye & mirþe, gamen & gle.
Now Gij him makeþ him alle ȝare
Into Inglond for to fare.
Tirri he wald lede wiþ him þo
& Oysel, his leman, þat he loued so.
To þe king þai wold hem aqueynti,
& gode þrowe wiþ him soiornni.
Biteche he him wille his castels alle,
So he him biþouȝt, ȝif it miȝt falle.
Into Inglond for to fare.
Tirri he wald lede wiþ him þo
& Oysel, his leman, þat he loued so.
To þe king þai wold hem aqueynti,
& gode þrowe wiþ him soiornni.
Biteche he him wille his castels alle,
So he him biþouȝt, ȝif it miȝt falle.
It was opon a somers day,
Gij out at a windowe lay.
To Tirri he spac of her fare,
Of her wele & of her care.
Wiþ þat com prikeing anon riȝt
A kniȝt: he semed wele, apliȝt,
Wele he semed he treuaild were.
Gij anon clept to him þere:
‘Sir kniȝt,’ he seyd, ‘whennes comestow?
& what þou sechest telle me now.’
Gij out at a windowe lay.
To Tirri he spac of her fare,
Of her wele & of her care.
Wiþ þat com prikeing anon riȝt
A kniȝt: he semed wele, apliȝt,
Wele he semed he treuaild were.
Gij anon clept to him þere:
‘Sir kniȝt,’ he seyd, ‘whennes comestow?
& what þou sechest telle me now.’
Þe kniȝt answerd, ‘ich-il þe telle,
& nouȝt þerof leyȝen y nille.
Tirri of Gurmoise y go secheinde,
Þerl sone Aubri wele doinde.
In mani londes ich haue him souȝt.’
‘Wharto?’ quaþ Gij, ‘hele it nouȝt.’
‘Sir,’ quaþ he, ‘y telle þe sone
Of a gret sorwe, þat is y-done.
Tirri serued þe douke Loyere:
Þe douke him loued, and held him dere,
& ȝaf him armes wiþ gret honour:
Kniȝt he bicome of gret valour.
Þe douke hadde a feir douhter for þe meistri,
Þat was y-ȝouen to þe douke of Paui:
Tirri hir loued & oway ladde,
Whar-þurch mani man þe deþ hadde.
Wiþ strengþe him folwed kniȝtes bliue:
Y not wher he be ȝete oliue.
& nouȝt þerof leyȝen y nille.
Tirri of Gurmoise y go secheinde,
Þerl sone Aubri wele doinde.
In mani londes ich haue him souȝt.’
‘Wharto?’ quaþ Gij, ‘hele it nouȝt.’
‘Sir,’ quaþ he, ‘y telle þe sone
Of a gret sorwe, þat is y-done.
Tirri serued þe douke Loyere:
Þe douke him loued, and held him dere,
& ȝaf him armes wiþ gret honour:
Kniȝt he bicome of gret valour.
Þe douke hadde a feir douhter for þe meistri,
Þat was y-ȝouen to þe douke of Paui:
Tirri hir loued & oway ladde,
Whar-þurch mani man þe deþ hadde.
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Y not wher he be ȝete oliue.
Þe douke Loyer biþouȝt him þo
Opon his fader for to go.
Þe douke Loyer wiþ him ladde
Þe douke of Paui þider he hadde
Wiþ his gode cheualrie,
Þe best of al Lombardye.
In Gormoise þerl bisett han he,
And destrud alle his cuntre.
Bot god me leue Tirri finde,
Þat he be his fader helpinde,
Al his lond him tit for-go:
No schal he it oȝain win neuer mo.
His fader no may armes weld,
No no lenge help himself for eld.’
Opon his fader for to go.
Þe douke Loyer wiþ him ladde
Þe douke of Paui þider he hadde
Wiþ his gode cheualrie,
Þe best of al Lombardye.
In Gormoise þerl bisett han he,
And destrud alle his cuntre.
Bot god me leue Tirri finde,
Þat he be his fader helpinde,
Al his lond him tit for-go:
No schal he it oȝain win neuer mo.
His fader no may armes weld,
No no lenge help himself for eld.’
‘Sir kniȝt,’ þan seyd sir Gij,
‘Her wiþ ous þou schalt herberwei,
& of þerl Tirri telle y þe
Ȝif ich ouȝt can, mi frende fre.’
‘Gramerci, sir,’ þan seyd he.
‘Of him to here leue war me.’
Gij hete his folk hastiliche
Þat hye him vnder-feng curteysliche.
‘Ich-il þe telle,’ quaþ sir Gij,
‘Þat y can of þerl Tirri.’
When þai hadde d[r]onken in þe halle,
& glad þai were, y telle ȝou, alle,
‘Her wiþ ous þou schalt herberwei,
& of þerl Tirri telle y þe
Ȝif ich ouȝt can, mi frende fre.’
‘Gramerci, sir,’ þan seyd he.
‘Of him to here leue war me.’
Gij hete his folk hastiliche
Þat hye him vnder-feng curteysliche.
‘Ich-il þe telle,’ quaþ sir Gij,
‘Þat y can of þerl Tirri.’
When þai hadde d[r]onken in þe halle,
& glad þai were, y telle ȝou, alle,
Þan seyd þerl Tirri:
‘For loue y bidde þe, sir Gij,
Oȝain to mi cuntre com wiþ me,
Als-so we sworn breþer be,
Mi fader to help þat we spede;
For of help he haþ gret nede.’
‘Be stille,’ seyd Gij, ‘what seystow me?
Þat day to god vnworþi y be,
Ȝif y, sir Tirri, feyle þe,
Þerwhiles þat ich haue liif in me.’
‘Sir Gij,’ he seyd, ‘gramerci:
Þilke y sigge þe, sikerly.’
Now sendeþ Gij after kniȝtes snelle,
‘For loue y bidde þe, sir Gij,
Oȝain to mi cuntre com wiþ me,
Als-so we sworn breþer be,
Mi fader to help þat we spede;
For of help he haþ gret nede.’
‘Be stille,’ seyd Gij, ‘what seystow me?
Þat day to god vnworþi y be,
286
Þerwhiles þat ich haue liif in me.’
‘Sir Gij,’ he seyd, ‘gramerci:
Þilke y sigge þe, sikerly.’
Almaines swiþe & of gode wille
To him þer come gret plente:
Er þe twenti day y-comen be,
Fif hundred kniȝtes hardi & hende
To Tirri come for his frende,
& seyd to Tirri, ‘to þi fader we wil gon:
Wele we it auȝt to don;
Wel redi we ben ichon.’
So long þai han forþ y-gon,
Y-comen þai ben to Gormoise.
In þat cite was gret noise.
In an euening þai com to þe cite,
Þat hye wiþ-outen aperceiued nar he.
Wel glad him was þerl Aubri
Of the cominge of his sone Tirri,
& of sir Gyes coming,
Þat gode kniȝt was, wiþ-outen lesing.
Her eyȝen watred for gladnesse,
Alle þai ȝede oȝain him to kisse.
‘Leue fader,’ seyd sir Tirri,
‘Worþschip wele now sir Gij:
Felawes we ben treuþe-y-pliȝt.
Y wil þat ȝe it wite now riȝt:
Fram deþ he haþ y-heled me.’
Quaþ þerl: ‘god y-þonked mot it be.
Hennes forward alle þat min is
To his wille schal ben, y-wis,
His hest to don & his wille
Erliche & lat, loude & stille.
A wel eld man ich am, y-wis:
Þat y bar armes tventi ȝer it is;
288
Of mi lond haue þou þe meistrie.’
Þan y-herberwed weren he
Worþschipliche in þat cite.
In þe cite gret noise is made:
Of þe barouns com þai ben wel glade.
Þer-in is now þerl Aubri,
So is sir Gij & sir Tirri.
An arnmorwe aros sir Gij,
& cleped to him his compeynie.
Bifor þerl þan þai ferden,
& a gret crie þai herden
Of þe barouns of þe cite.
Anon oxed Gij þe fre
Of þat noise what it was.
A squier told him al þat cas:
‘Þe douke steward Loyer
For present he comeþ to iusti here
Ȝif he finde wiþ whom to do,
Þat ani kniȝt durst cum him to.’
Sir Gij answer[d], ‘ȝif y may
Þerof him worþ his fille to day.
Lordinges,’ he seyd, ‘ginneþ ȝou armi,
& gin whe hem to asaily.
Sir erl Tirri,’ Gij him sede,
‘Take to hundred kniȝtes in þi ferred:
Þe lordinges to aseyl ȝe go.
In Herhaud & in me trist also.
We wil abide in þis cite,
In þi nede we schul socour þe.’
Tirri nimeþ wiþ him kniȝtes
To hundred armed in fiȝtes.
Out of þe cite he nam his way,
Mani scheld he to-drof þat day.
Tirri smot wiþ gret miȝt
Opon þe helmes, þat schine briȝt.
290
Þan seyd Herhaud, ‘leue sir Gij,
Sestow now þe gode erl Tirri?
Of grete valour now so is he:
His better wot y non bot te.
Him to socour we auȝt to go.’
Gij him answerd, ‘we schul so.’
Forþ þai ȝede wiþ gode welle:
Þe lordinges hij astounded snelle.
Wiþ þat com forþ sir Gij,
In his hond his swerd blodi.
Wel heteliche he smot a kniȝt,
His bodi he clef adoun riȝt.
Anoþer kniȝt he smot anon,
Þat ded he feld him on þe ston.
Sir Gij him smot to Gayer,
Þat was þe doukes nevou Loyer:
Of his hors he haþ him feld
Þurch Tirries help in þe feld.
For he smot his felawe,
In þe sond he haþ him slawe.
Herhaud smot anoþer forþ,
His armes was him nouȝt worþ:
Þurch his bodi þe swerd ȝede;
Ded he feld him of his stede.
Anoþer he smot him as gode kniȝt,
Of his stede he feld him doun riȝt.
Now þai ginne togider smite:
Non no spared oþer bot lite.
Togider þai smite hard wiþ alle,
Mani on þer was ded & doun falle.
Who þat seye þan þerl Tirri
Wiþ his felawe sir Gi,
& Herhaud of Arderne þe gode,
Þat wele to smite was in his mode,
So mani þai nomen & feld þat day,
Is non þe best chese may
Sestow now þe gode erl Tirri?
Of grete valour now so is he:
His better wot y non bot te.
Him to socour we auȝt to go.’
Gij him answerd, ‘we schul so.’
Forþ þai ȝede wiþ gode welle:
Þe lordinges hij astounded snelle.
Wiþ þat com forþ sir Gij,
In his hond his swerd blodi.
Wel heteliche he smot a kniȝt,
His bodi he clef adoun riȝt.
Anoþer kniȝt he smot anon,
Þat ded he feld him on þe ston.
Sir Gij him smot to Gayer,
Þat was þe doukes nevou Loyer:
Of his hors he haþ him feld
Þurch Tirries help in þe feld.
For he smot his felawe,
In þe sond he haþ him slawe.
Herhaud smot anoþer forþ,
His armes was him nouȝt worþ:
Þurch his bodi þe swerd ȝede;
Ded he feld him of his stede.
Anoþer he smot him as gode kniȝt,
Of his stede he feld him doun riȝt.
Now þai ginne togider smite:
Non no spared oþer bot lite.
Togider þai smite hard wiþ alle,
Mani on þer was ded & doun falle.
Who þat seye þan þerl Tirri
Wiþ his felawe sir Gi,
& Herhaud of Arderne þe gode,
Þat wele to smite was in his mode,
So mani þai nomen & feld þat day,
Is non þe best chese may
292
Þan bi-spac Otus of Paui
(To Gij he bar gret envie):
‘No-þing, sir, desmay þou þe:
Ful wel we schul awreken be.
To morwe we schal to þe cite go
Wiþ a þousend kniȝtes & mo:
& ȝif þe treytours y-founden be,
We schul hem aseyle, y telle þe.
Euerichon þai worþen ded.’
Quaþ þe douk, ‘þat is a gode red.’
Wel erliche þai arisen þo,
& to the cite þai ben y-go,
& a þousend kniȝtes in her compeynie,
Þe best þat were in Lombardye.
Alle þai þreten sir Gij,
Him for to slen & sir Tirri.
To-gider fast þai gun smite
Wiþ swerdes þat wil wele bite.
Als Gij com fro chirche go,
Into a pleyne he loked þo:
He seye þe doukes ost was neye:
So mani kniȝtes þer he seye.
Þan þerl Tirri he cleped him to,
& to him wiȝtliche spac þo:
‘Sir erl,’ he seyd, ‘what schal we do?
Alle þe ost of Loreine y se, lo,
Þe ost of Loreyne wele y-diȝt
Wiþ scheldes & wiþ brinis briȝt.
Þe douk of Paui is y-come,
By his armes y knowe þat gome.
Y no may him loue, he is mi fo:
Gret wille me comeþ oȝain him go.’
Þerl seyd, ‘arme we ous euerichon:
A þousend kniȝtes schul wiþ ous gon.’
Gij him mett wiþ þerl Iordan,
Lord he was of alle Melan.
Hastiliche he haþ him mett,
& at a diche him bisett.
He smot him on þe helme briȝt,
A quarter of his helme doun riȝt.
Þan seyd þe treytour, ‘glotoun,
Dye þou schalt wiþ resoun:
Ich þe abie in þis stede.’
Herhaud anon to him sede:
(To Gij he bar gret envie):
‘No-þing, sir, desmay þou þe:
Ful wel we schul awreken be.
To morwe we schal to þe cite go
Wiþ a þousend kniȝtes & mo:
& ȝif þe treytours y-founden be,
We schul hem aseyle, y telle þe.
Euerichon þai worþen ded.’
Quaþ þe douk, ‘þat is a gode red.’
Wel erliche þai arisen þo,
& to the cite þai ben y-go,
& a þousend kniȝtes in her compeynie,
Þe best þat were in Lombardye.
Alle þai þreten sir Gij,
Him for to slen & sir Tirri.
To-gider fast þai gun smite
Wiþ swerdes þat wil wele bite.
Als Gij com fro chirche go,
Into a pleyne he loked þo:
He seye þe doukes ost was neye:
So mani kniȝtes þer he seye.
Þan þerl Tirri he cleped him to,
& to him wiȝtliche spac þo:
‘Sir erl,’ he seyd, ‘what schal we do?
Alle þe ost of Loreine y se, lo,
Þe ost of Loreyne wele y-diȝt
Wiþ scheldes & wiþ brinis briȝt.
Þe douk of Paui is y-come,
By his armes y knowe þat gome.
Y no may him loue, he is mi fo:
Gret wille me comeþ oȝain him go.’
Þerl seyd, ‘arme we ous euerichon:
A þousend kniȝtes schul wiþ ous gon.’
Gij him mett wiþ þerl Iordan,
Lord he was of alle Melan.
294
& at a diche him bisett.
He smot him on þe helme briȝt,
A quarter of his helme doun riȝt.
Þan seyd þe treytour, ‘glotoun,
Dye þou schalt wiþ resoun:
Ich þe abie in þis stede.’
Herhaud anon to him sede:
‘Þou lexst,’ he seyd, ‘vile losaniour:
Þou it abist, bi seyn Sauour.’
Herhaud a strok him rauȝt
Opon his scheld wiþ gret mauȝt:
On þe helme þat strok glod,
& fel on þe stede þat he on rode.
So he mett him in þat stede,
Þat his stede knewele he dede.
Vp stirt þe stede þat was snelle:
Þan come þer bi an hongend hille
Þe miȝti and þe hardi Gyoun:
In his hond he bar a trounsoun.
Otus he smot þer-wiþ so,
Þat he les his stiropes to.
Þan seyd Gij to Otus so vnwrast:
‘To me ward þou wende on hast,
& were þe of þat felonie
Þat þou dest me in Lombardye.’
Otus him went wiþ gret hete:
Þurch þe thei Gij he haþ y-smite.
Wiþ gret hete he smot Gyoun,
Þat his stede knewled adoun.
Þan biþought him sir Gij,
Þou it abist, bi seyn Sauour.’
Herhaud a strok him rauȝt
Opon his scheld wiþ gret mauȝt:
On þe helme þat strok glod,
& fel on þe stede þat he on rode.
So he mett him in þat stede,
Þat his stede knewele he dede.
Vp stirt þe stede þat was snelle:
Þan come þer bi an hongend hille
Þe miȝti and þe hardi Gyoun:
In his hond he bar a trounsoun.
Otus he smot þer-wiþ so,
Þat he les his stiropes to.
Þan seyd Gij to Otus so vnwrast:
‘To me ward þou wende on hast,
& were þe of þat felonie
Þat þou dest me in Lombardye.’
Otus him went wiþ gret hete:
Þurch þe thei Gij he haþ y-smite.
Wiþ gret hete he smot Gyoun,
Þat his stede knewled adoun.
To awreke him he hadde gret hye.
Þe douke he seyleþ þere,
& of his helme he carf a quarter.
He made him a croun brod þere
As a monke þat orderd were.
296
Þat his nek-bon to-brest.
Wiþ þat come anoþer kniȝt
Of Fraunce y-bore, Amori he hiȝt:
Douke Otus soudour was he,
For his warisoun wiþ him to be.
‘Gij,’ he seyd, ‘now ȝeld þou þe,
Al sikerliche, now to me.
Þe no tit harm litel no miche.’
‘Y nil,’ quaþ Gij, ‘sikerliche.
Ȝete no drede y nouȝt alle ȝou.
Sey me, wreche, what seistow?’
Wiþ þat come Herhaud prikeinde,
& in his hond a swerd wele kerueinde;
He it brouȝt to gode Gyoun.
Þerwiþ he him werd as a lyoun.
Gij was socourd swiþe wel,
When he hadde þe brond of stiel.
Neuer þer nas non so hardi,
Þat enes durst com him bi.
Wharto schuld ich held long tale,
And michel speke about dualle?
Ac sigge ich-il soþeliche
Wiþ fewe wordes simpeliche,
Gij, & Herhaud, & Tirri þe fre
Wiþ her felawes, þat gode be,
Han ouercomen þe batayle
Atte nende, wiþouten faile:
Alle þe Lombard ben ouer-come,
Oway y-flowen þer be some.
Þe douk Otus oway fleye snelle,
Gij him drof wiþ gode wille.
Otus him went & smot sir Gij,
& Gij opon him, sikerly.
Gij fonded to smite wel,
Ac þat swerd glod sumdel:
298
Ȝernne þai strengþed him to quelle.
Herhaud mett wiþ hem þere:
Made he no semblaunt þat he wounded were.
Wiþ a Lombard so mett he,
Þe heued he dede fram þe bodi fle.
As a gode kniȝt he werd him, y-wis,
Ac swiþe liþer bifallen him is:
Also he wald to þe cite go,
His stede dyed vnder him þo.
Wiþ swerdes þai smiten him þan about,
& on his helme hard him clout.
Þai hewe on his helme, þat blod out ran,
Ac he werd him as a man.
Mani on he made blodi, y pliȝt,
Of Lombardes in þat fiȝt.
A Lombard come forþ wiþ þan,
Richard he hete, an onwrast man:
To Herhaud he smot a strok grim
Þurch þe scholder wiþ a swerd in.
Herhaud wold of him be wreke:
On his helme a stroke he gan reke,
Ac he failed of him þo:
Opon þe arsoun þe strok gan go;
Ac hetelich he pliȝt out þat brond,
Þat it brak in his hond.
‘God, what schal y do?’ þan seyd he,
‘No lenger may ich weri me.
A, swerd, he þat made þe
Of godes mouþe acursed he be.
Why feylestow so sone me?
Iuel biseyn worþ y for þe.
Leuer me is her to be ded,
Þan hy my bodi wiþ hem led.’
Wiþ þat come driuend a Lombard,
Attelast he held him, a couward.
300
Gret sor was at his hert y-come.
‘God,’ quaþ Gij, ‘Herhaud y se
Among his fon: nomen is he.
Go we smite to hem, Tirri:
For dout of deþ spare nil y.
So gode a kniȝt leten y nille.’
Herhaud þai socourd snelle.
To a Lombard smot sir Gij,
& feld him & his fere him by.
Tirri anoþer smite bigan,
Þat ded he feld boþe hors & man.
Swerdes þai drowen, wiþ-outen feyle,
Wharwiþ was wrouȝt mani batayle.
Þai hewe and slouȝ wiþ gret hete:
So mani þer þe liif forlete.
Herhaud þai socourd mididone,
A gode swerd þai toke him sone.
Toward his ost þe douke heyeþ bliue,
& Gij after him gan driue.
A strok him ȝaf sir Gyoun:
Bitvene þe bodi & þe arsoun
Þe dint of þat strok aliȝt:
Þe stede he smot adoun riȝt.
Kniȝtes þan out of þat ost
To Gij lopen wiþ michel bost:
Þurch þat gret ost went Gij snelle,
Þe Lombardes him folwed wiþ gode wille.
Tirri & Herhaud her ost metten þere,
& of hem michel awonderd were,
Hou hij fram þe ost aschaped is:
Of hem þai hadden gret blis.
Gij, & Tirri, and Herhaud also
Oȝain to þe cite þai ben y-go,
& þe citiseins of þat cite
Wel often god þonkeden he.
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Riȝt siker þer-of may þai be;
&, when þai ben farn her iurne,
& fer fram her cuntre,
Þe treitours þou schalt nimen icho[n],
& dem hem in þi court anon.
& so michel y bid þe,
Gij & Herhaud ȝiue þou me.
& so þou schalt awreke be
Of þine enmis, as y telle þe,
& bot ȝe wil þus don,
Þai worþ þi dedliche fon.’
Wiþ þat answerd þe douk Loer,
‘Lat be, sir Otus, for seyn Richer.
Þat felonie y nil hem nouȝt do
For nouȝt þat y miȝt afo.
Y nil bitray þerl Tirri
For loue þat he was mi norri
Fram childehed, now he is a man.
Now do ȝe þe best þat ȝe can,
& he wil amend oȝines me.
Bi him y nold no traysoun se,
No Herhaud no Gij þe fre
No wille ich nouȝt bitreye, y telle þe,
For þai ben gode men alle þre:
Amende þai may oȝaines me.’
Otous answerd wiþ wicked mod
& seyd, ‘sir, no seystow bot gode.
When ȝe þe traitours loue so,
Þat ye no wille hem to deþ do,
In prisoun þou schalt hem legge,
So þat hij it schul dere abigge,
Alle fort þai han y-founden þe ostage
Þat hij no do þe non vtrage.’
So he glosed þe douk in þat stede,
& so ȝernne he haþ him bede,
304
Lest he do þe sum felonie.’
Þe bischop answerd, ‘þer-of þou no drede:
Al siker ȝe beþ of þilke dede.’
Þe bischop oȝain y-farn he is,
Her answere he telleþ hem, y-wis.
When þe day come þat was sett,
Þerl com forþ wiþouten lett
Wiþ to hundred kniȝtes & mo,
Þat bliþe were þider to go;
Ac þerof þai dede foliliche:
Was þer non of hem, sikerliche,
Þat ani wepen wiþ hem bere:
So siker þai wende to be þere.
In riche cloþes þai were schred wele,
Þat were gold-broiden eueridel.
To þemperour þai comen anon,
To þerl Tirri & his men ichon.
Y-comen þai ben to þe douke Loer,
& brouȝt þe maide wiþ leyȝeand cher.
Y-comen þai ben to þe parlement,
For to here þat iugement.
‘Lordinges,’ seyd þe douke Otoun,
‘Vnder-stond now to mi resoun.
Ȝe wite wel þat Tirri, þat is here,
Haþ agilt þe douk Loere,
Þat him forþ brouȝt, & armes him ȝaf:
Iuel ȝolden he it him haþ,
Now he bringeþ vncouþe folk miche
Opon his lond so dedliche.
Ac ichaue þe douke bisouȝt,
& mine feren hider brouȝt,
Þat forȝif it be him euermo;
& gret worþschipe he wil him do:
His douhter he wille him ȝiue,
& gret worþschip while þat he liue.
And ichil wiþ Tirri wende:
Henneforward we schul be frende.
Ȝete vnderstond,’ seyd sir Otoun,
‘Bifor ȝou alle y biseke sir Gyoun,
Ȝif ich him haue ouȝt misdo,
Amenden ichil wele þerto:
Bi so þat he wille kisse me,
Euer eft we schul frendes be.’
‘Lat be,’ seyd sir Gij þe fre,
‘No wille ichaue no cosse wiþ þe:
In Lombardye þou bitraydest me,
& min men þou dest sle.
Ac kisse þou schalt þerl Aubri,
& wiþ him þou schalt acordi.’
‘Vnder-stond now to mi resoun.
Ȝe wite wel þat Tirri, þat is here,
Haþ agilt þe douk Loere,
Þat him forþ brouȝt, & armes him ȝaf:
Iuel ȝolden he it him haþ,
Now he bringeþ vncouþe folk miche
Opon his lond so dedliche.
Ac ichaue þe douke bisouȝt,
& mine feren hider brouȝt,
Þat forȝif it be him euermo;
& gret worþschipe he wil him do:
His douhter he wille him ȝiue,
& gret worþschip while þat he liue.
306
Henneforward we schul be frende.
Ȝete vnderstond,’ seyd sir Otoun,
‘Bifor ȝou alle y biseke sir Gyoun,
Ȝif ich him haue ouȝt misdo,
Amenden ichil wele þerto:
Bi so þat he wille kisse me,
Euer eft we schul frendes be.’
‘Lat be,’ seyd sir Gij þe fre,
‘No wille ichaue no cosse wiþ þe:
In Lombardye þou bitraydest me,
& min men þou dest sle.
Ac kisse þou schalt þerl Aubri,
& wiþ him þou schalt acordi.’
Þan seyd þe douk Loer:
‘Vnderstond now, ȝe þat ben here,
Þat þerl sir Tirri,
Aubri sone, þat is her bi,
He þat maiden Oysel schal spouse
In godes lawe vnto his house.
Acorded we ben of þat dede,
& forȝeuen al hatrede.’
Þan haþ þe douke y-kist Tirri
For gret traisoun, & nouȝt freli.
Gij & Herhaud held hem in pays:
Hye no kist Lombard no Tyays,
Ac þe Loreins þai kist,
& þe douke Loyer att first;
Ac Otus no kist þai nouȝt:
Þai no hadde to him no gode þouȝt.
‘Vnderstond now, ȝe þat ben here,
Þat þerl sir Tirri,
Aubri sone, þat is her bi,
He þat maiden Oysel schal spouse
In godes lawe vnto his house.
Acorded we ben of þat dede,
& forȝeuen al hatrede.’
Þan haþ þe douke y-kist Tirri
For gret traisoun, & nouȝt freli.
Gij & Herhaud held hem in pays:
Hye no kist Lombard no Tyays,
Ac þe Loreins þai kist,
& þe douke Loyer att first;
Ac Otus no kist þai nouȝt:
Þai no hadde to him no gode þouȝt.
Þan seyd to Loer þerl Aubri:
‘Þe ich biteche mi sone Tirri.
Alder-first Iesu heuen king
& þe y biteche mi ȝongling.
No may ich for eld trauaily:
Hom ichil wende now an hye.’
He bitauȝt hem god & gode day,
He lete hem þar, & went his way.
Gij and Herhaud þe maiden gan forþ lede,
Oysel sche hete wiþ þe rode so rede.
Gret iurne þai riden þat day,
Fram Gormoise þai riden owai
Wele fiften mile oþer mo:
For gret hete þai resten hem þo.
In a pleyne þai liȝten hem snelle,
Þer þai wald resten & duelle.
When þai aliȝt þe kniȝtes fre,
Alle þai wende y-nomen to be.
‘Þe ich biteche mi sone Tirri.
Alder-first Iesu heuen king
& þe y biteche mi ȝongling.
No may ich for eld trauaily:
Hom ichil wende now an hye.’
308
He lete hem þar, & went his way.
Gij and Herhaud þe maiden gan forþ lede,
Oysel sche hete wiþ þe rode so rede.
Gret iurne þai riden þat day,
Fram Gormoise þai riden owai
Wele fiften mile oþer mo:
For gret hete þai resten hem þo.
In a pleyne þai liȝten hem snelle,
Þer þai wald resten & duelle.
When þai aliȝt þe kniȝtes fre,
Alle þai wende y-nomen to be.
Þan seyd Otus of Paui:
‘Herkeneþ to me, al mi compeynie,
Þe Loreins & þe Lombardes ichon,
Alle þat in our side riden & gon:
Bi þe rede of þe douke Loer
Ichot boþe kniȝt & squier
Þat ȝe Gij, Herhaud, & Tirri binde
Fast her hondes hem bi-hinde.
In-to Loreine we lede hem snelle:
Tomorwe we schul hem hongen alle.
Who so him feyneþ hem to nime
Forþ wiþ hem men schal him blim.’
Þan lopen about hem þe Lombars
‘Herkeneþ to me, al mi compeynie,
Þe Loreins & þe Lombardes ichon,
Alle þat in our side riden & gon:
Bi þe rede of þe douke Loer
Ichot boþe kniȝt & squier
Þat ȝe Gij, Herhaud, & Tirri binde
Fast her hondes hem bi-hinde.
In-to Loreine we lede hem snelle:
Tomorwe we schul hem hongen alle.
Who so him feyneþ hem to nime
Forþ wiþ hem men schal him blim.’
As wicked coltes out of haras
& Loyers [men] deden also,
& þerfore hem was ful wo.
Anon Tirri aseylden he,
& nomen him (he no miȝt nouȝt fle),
& Herhaud, þat was gode of miȝt,
Þai nomen þer anon riȝt.
Gij vp stirt hastiliche,
& to hem spac wel sternliche:
‘Now þe deuel hong ȝou ichon.
Is þis acord now alle agon?
310
Wiþ alle þe tresoun þat is her.
No war we acorded bifor þe barnage,
& kist wiþouten vtrage?
Þis has made þe douke Otoun,
Þat is so ful of tresoun.
Alle þis tresoun he haþ bispeke
(God ous of him awreke);
For þurch þe no war it nouȝt,
Bot it were first of him y-þouȝt.’
Þe douk Loer was so wo:
O word no miȝt he speke þo.
Wiþ þat stirt forþ anon riȝt
Otus cossyn, an vnwrast kniȝt.
Gij bi his mantel he drouȝ so,
Þat þe tassels brosten ato.
Þan seyd a Tya[y]s to a Lombard:
‘Now is Gij of Warwike a couward.
Lo, now he no haþ no miȝt:
Lorn he haþ contenaunce, apliȝt.’
Wiþ þat þai speken hem þus bitven,
Gij seye it miȝt no noþer ben:
To him þat him held turned he,
And ȝaf him swiche benedicite,
Þat he brak his nek ato.
Alle þe oþer on him þresten þo.
Þe mantel þat he had opon
To cloutes it was drawen anon,
So þat ichon oway bar
An pece of his mantel þar.
Gij werd him fast in þat sturbing:
Now helpe him Iesu heuen king.
Smer[t]liche þai gun him asaily:
He werd him as a kniȝt hardy,
So þat he neyȝed his stede;
For to him he hadde nede.
312
Mani on he made þat liif forgon.
When þe douk Otus þat y-seye,
Þat Gij on his hors oway fleye,
Anon he seyd to his kniȝtes:
‘Now to hors wiþ alle ȝour miȝtes;
For, ȝif he passe ous in þis biker,
Of mi liif am y nouȝt siker;
& þerfore nimeþ him anon
Als ȝe wil haue mi loue ichon.
Bot ȝe bring him me to,
We ben y-schent for euer mo.’
An hors þai lopen þan on hast,
And driuen Gij swiþe fast,
& Gij no hadde wepen non:
Wold god of heuen, þat made man,
Þat he hadde his brond kerueing!
He no hadde þer no frende him helping.
Bi þat o side oway he ginneþ fle;
Bot god of him haue pite,
Þer he worþ y-slawe anon:
Alle abouten him þai ben y-gon.
Wiþ þat þer come rideing a kniȝt,
About his swere his scheld briȝt,
& wiþ a spere opon his hond:
Toward Gij wel swiþe he wond,
& þurch þe bodi smite him wold,
Ac god of heuen it suffre nold:
Þe strok of þe spere it gan glide
Bitven þe arsoun & his side.
His blihaut he carf, his schert also.
Gij strongliche him mett þo:
Wiþ his fest he him smot so,
Þat to grounde he dede him go.
Wiþ þat sir Gij forþ him diȝt,
Ac he mett wiþ anoþer kniȝt:
314
In þe heued he wald Gij smite.
Þe strok opon his hors glod
Opon þe croupe a fot brod.
Þei he war aferd no wonder nas:
Gij ferd fram him a fast pas.
He seye wiþ þat a grom cominde,
To him ward fast erninge:
A gret soule in his hond he bar,
So wold god þat it war.
Gij wel feir him bisouȝt
Ȝif him þe staf þat he brouȝt.
‘Ichil ȝeld it þe ful wel.’
‘Haue here, sir, bi seyn Miȝhel.
Wele ich þi gret nede se:
Now god fram schame kepe þe.’
He tok þat soule in his hond,
Anon forþ to hem he wond.
A Lombard wel sone he mett,
And wiþ þe soule so him grett,
Þat ded he feld him anon.
He tok his hors, & gan to gon,
& seyd to þe grom þo:
‘Þou nim þis hors, & gin to go.
Wiþ gode wille y ȝiue it þe
For þe staf þou lentest me.’
Þe knaue him þonked bliue,
Oway wiþ þe hors he gan to driue.
Þan went forþ Gij þe gode,
Nas neuer man of his mode
Þat better him werd in his ende.
Er he out of þat fiȝt gan wende
Ȝete he slouȝ on of her felawe.
In lasse while he hadde [him] y-slawe,
Þen men schold sigge a pater-noster.
Y telle it ȝou bi Peter þe apostel
316
When he haþ ouer-comen ichon
Wel long he werþ him þat day.
When he no lenge doure ne may
Þan seyd he to hem anon:
‘Þe deuel biteche ich ȝou ichon,
& namliche Otus of Pauie,
Þat haþ y-don ous þis felonie;
& ȝif ich a ȝer libbe may
He schal it abigge, for soþe to say.’
Þan is he gon oway ful ȝernne,
So þat he com to a water sterne.
In he him dede, & ouer he goþ.
Alle þai wondred þer-of, for soþ.
Non no durst after him wende
For drencheing at her liues ende.
Oȝain þan þai ben y-come
To þe douke Otus alle and some,
& telden him wel sone anon
Þat Gij was ouer þe water y-gon.
Þe douke Otous is now wel sori,
For Gij is schaped so oway,
& swore bi god & seyn Gelen
Neuer eft nold he louen his men,
For þat hii leten him oway fle:
Gret wille he hadde him to sle;
Ac Gij him werd wiþ mani wrenche:
Hope of fole may of-blenche.
‘Sir douk Loer,’ seyd Otoun,
‘Y-schaped is þe felle Gyoun.
To Paui ichil now gon,
& spouse þi douhter anon:
Riche bridal ichil maki.
Wiþ me schal Herhaud & Tirri;
Þer þai schul be don in prisoun:
Schul þai neuer come to raunsoun.
318
& ȝete to ȝer ichil now go
Wiþ min men to sechen Gij,
What he be nome, sikerly.
Alle þis oþer prisouns wiþ þe go,
& þine wil wiþ hem þou do.’
‘Sir,’ seyd þe douk Loer,
‘Þat nil ich nouȝt in non maner
Þat tow Tirri no do sle:
Y nold in non wise, sir douk þe fre;
Ac, ȝif Tirri schal wiþ þe go,
In fre prisoun þou schalt him do.
Þou do him kepe worþschipliche
Wiþ gret plente manschipliche,
Alle fort he haue mi wille y-do.
Ichil now þat it be so,
& ich-il lede Herhaud wiþ me:
In mi fre prisoun schal he be.
Y nil nouȝt he wiþ þe go:
To michel iuel þou wost him do.’
Þan þai token her leue þo:
Wiþ gret loue þai kisten hem bo.
To Lorein went þe douke Loer,
Þat wiþ worþschipe dede kepe þer
Herhaud of Arderne, þe marchis:
Wele leuer him were be ded, y-wis.
When he to Gij com no miȝt,
Leue him were dye anon riȝt.
Now is Otous to Paui gan,
Wiþ him he ledde his feir leman,
Also he dede þerl sir Tirri
Fast y-fetred, sikerly,
Riȝt fast vnder þe hors fet
In-to Paui, and þer him let.
When Oysel seye him lede so
Sore sche wepe for his wo.
320
Opon Gij sche trust miche.
Seþþe þat he aschaped was,
Wele sche þouȝt þurch sum cas
He schuld Tirri out of prisoun cast,
Hir swete leman, wel on hast.
Þai com to Paui wiþ þat:
Þe douk Otus nouȝt forȝat,
Þat erl Tirri he bond fast,
& in-to þester prisoun him cast,
Þer he was in sorwe, apliȝt:
He nist wheþer it wer day or niȝt.
Litel he hadde of mete or dring.
His leman lan neuer wepeing
Aniȝt, when sche alon was,
Þat noman wiþ hir nas.
Now to tel of Gij ichaue y-þouȝt
Hou god him haþ fram deþ y-brouȝt.
When he was passed þat water sternne
He loked about him wel ȝernne,
Of his felawes him vnderstode:
Wel neye he was for sorwe wode.
‘God,’ he seyd, ‘what schal y do?
Weri wreche, whider may y go?
Ichaue forlorn þe gode Tirri
& Herhaud, for wham icham sori.
Amow, sir douk Loer,
Hou miȝtestow dreye þe bismer,
Þat þe fals douk Otoun
Dede bifor þe þat traisoun?
For traitour þou worst euer i-held
When þou comest in place or feld.
Lord,’ he seyd, ‘what may y do?
Into whiche lond may y go?
An arnemorwe no þing y no dred me:
Þo ich went out of þat cite
Wiþ me ich hadde an hundred kniȝtes
To mi wille for me in fiȝtes,
& now y no haue a grom to held mi stede.
Þat so miche me miȝt help at nede,
For me þai ben y-slawe ichon,
Oþer in peine in prisoun don.
A, mi dere frende sir Tirri,
For our departing icham sori.
No schal y þe se neuer eft mo?
For þe ichil mi liif in periil do,
Þat y schal his body smite ato
Þat þus þis traisoun haþ ous do,
& so ichil awreke þe:
Dye ichil bot it so be.’
Gij rode forþ in his way
Alle þat iche self day,
So long þat he a castel seye
Opon a roche stode an heye.
He þouȝt to herberwe þare;
For he no miȝt no ferþer fare.
Also he to þe gates come
A ȝong kniȝt he fond þer anon.
Michel he was, hende, & fre:
Feren he hadde wiþ him þre.
Gij sey bi his semblaunt anon
Þat he was lord ouer hem ichon.
‘Sir,’ quaþ Gij, ‘vnderstond to me.
Þe lord, þat made me and te,
Þe loke ȝif þi wille be,
And miche blisse he ȝif þe.
A kniȝt icham deswarre,
Þat in y bid par charite.’
Hou god him haþ fram deþ y-brouȝt.
When he was passed þat water sternne
He loked about him wel ȝernne,
Of his felawes him vnderstode:
Wel neye he was for sorwe wode.
‘God,’ he seyd, ‘what schal y do?
Weri wreche, whider may y go?
Ichaue forlorn þe gode Tirri
& Herhaud, for wham icham sori.
Amow, sir douk Loer,
Hou miȝtestow dreye þe bismer,
Þat þe fals douk Otoun
Dede bifor þe þat traisoun?
For traitour þou worst euer i-held
When þou comest in place or feld.
Lord,’ he seyd, ‘what may y do?
Into whiche lond may y go?
An arnemorwe no þing y no dred me:
Þo ich went out of þat cite
322
To mi wille for me in fiȝtes,
& now y no haue a grom to held mi stede.
Þat so miche me miȝt help at nede,
For me þai ben y-slawe ichon,
Oþer in peine in prisoun don.
A, mi dere frende sir Tirri,
For our departing icham sori.
No schal y þe se neuer eft mo?
For þe ichil mi liif in periil do,
Þat y schal his body smite ato
Þat þus þis traisoun haþ ous do,
& so ichil awreke þe:
Dye ichil bot it so be.’
Gij rode forþ in his way
Alle þat iche self day,
So long þat he a castel seye
Opon a roche stode an heye.
He þouȝt to herberwe þare;
For he no miȝt no ferþer fare.
Also he to þe gates come
A ȝong kniȝt he fond þer anon.
Michel he was, hende, & fre:
Feren he hadde wiþ him þre.
Gij sey bi his semblaunt anon
Þat he was lord ouer hem ichon.
‘Sir,’ quaþ Gij, ‘vnderstond to me.
Þe lord, þat made me and te,
Þe loke ȝif þi wille be,
And miche blisse he ȝif þe.
A kniȝt icham deswarre,
Þat in y bid par charite.’
Þe lord answerd sweteliche,
‘Þou it schalt haue, bleþeliche.’
He dede vnder-fong his stede þo,
Bi his own he dede it do.
Bi þe riȝt hond he toke sir Gij,
& went into his halle on hey.
A mantel of silk he of-sent on hast,
& about him he dede it cast.
Wonderliche þai bihelden him alle
Kniȝtes þat weren in þe halle;
For he was michel & wele y-sett.
Þai him bihelden wele þe bett.
Þe lord wiþ þat to him sede,
‘Ich þe bidde for loue-rede
Þat þi name telle þou me,
& nouȝt forhole it no be.’
Gij answerd wel sweteliche,
‘Mi name y þe telle, sikerliche:
Gij of Warwike mi name is.
Iuel ich am acumbred, y-wis.’
When þe lord herd þat,
Þat it was Gij þat to him spac,
‘Sir,’ he seyd, ‘welcome ȝe be:
In ȝour owhen herberwe ȝe.
Ful welcome artow to me,
& ful wele y knowe þe.
Ich auȝt þe loue, so moti gon:
Wel michel gode þou hast me don.
Þo ich þe serued þou louedest me:
Armes ich vnderfenge of þe,
And þou me sendest ner & fer
To turnamens & to wer,
So þat gret word sprong of me,
Þo y went hom to mi cuntre.
Amis of Mounteyn mi name it is:
Wele ouȝt ȝe me knowe, y-wis.’
When Gij him seye he knewe þe kniȝt,
He kist him þer anon riȝt.
‘Sir,’ quaþ Amis, ‘when comestow,
Þatow gost alle on now?
It semeþ wele, so þenkeþ me,
Fram gret periil aschaped be ȝe.
Whare his Herhaud, þi kniȝt so fre?
Alle þine kniȝtes where ben he?’
‘Ich-il þe telle,’ þan seyd sir Gij.
‘Now vnder-stond ich am sori.’
Þan teld he him al þat cas,
Hou þerl Tirri wounded was,
& hou he hadde y-heled his wounde,
& socurd his fader, & ost him founde,
& hou he passed him self vnnome,
& hou þai were þurch traisoun ouer-come,
& hou his felawes weren y-nome,
& hou þat he was þider y-come,
& hou Tirri was y-nomen þo
& þe gode Herhaud also,
& wiþ hem fif hundred kniȝtes,
Orped men & gode in fiȝtes.
‘Y not ȝif þai be liues or dede:
Al ich hem sey nimen & lede.’
When Gij hadde y-teld þat cas,
Hou iuel him bifallen was,
‘Suffre awhile, sir,’ quaþ he.
‘Ȝif it is þi wille listen to me.
Ich haue castels & cites strong
Mani and fele in mi lond:
Alle ichil bitake þe,
Mine kniȝtes ichil of-sende to me:
Fif hundred ich of-sende may,
Þat schal do þi wille niȝt and day.
Alle þat to min erldom falleþ y wil it be
To þine wille so schal com to þe.
Wende we wille to þe douk Otoun,
And bring him to destruccioun.
His londes we schul þurch-ernne,
& his castels felle, & his tounes bernne,
& so þou miȝt awreke be,
His londes destru, him seluen sle.
Of werre no swike wille we,
Al what he a-slawe be.’
‘Þou it schalt haue, bleþeliche.’
He dede vnder-fong his stede þo,
Bi his own he dede it do.
324
& went into his halle on hey.
A mantel of silk he of-sent on hast,
& about him he dede it cast.
Wonderliche þai bihelden him alle
Kniȝtes þat weren in þe halle;
For he was michel & wele y-sett.
Þai him bihelden wele þe bett.
Þe lord wiþ þat to him sede,
‘Ich þe bidde for loue-rede
Þat þi name telle þou me,
& nouȝt forhole it no be.’
Gij answerd wel sweteliche,
‘Mi name y þe telle, sikerliche:
Gij of Warwike mi name is.
Iuel ich am acumbred, y-wis.’
When þe lord herd þat,
Þat it was Gij þat to him spac,
‘Sir,’ he seyd, ‘welcome ȝe be:
In ȝour owhen herberwe ȝe.
Ful welcome artow to me,
& ful wele y knowe þe.
Ich auȝt þe loue, so moti gon:
Wel michel gode þou hast me don.
Þo ich þe serued þou louedest me:
Armes ich vnderfenge of þe,
And þou me sendest ner & fer
To turnamens & to wer,
So þat gret word sprong of me,
Þo y went hom to mi cuntre.
Amis of Mounteyn mi name it is:
Wele ouȝt ȝe me knowe, y-wis.’
When Gij him seye he knewe þe kniȝt,
He kist him þer anon riȝt.
‘Sir,’ quaþ Amis, ‘when comestow,
Þatow gost alle on now?
326
Fram gret periil aschaped be ȝe.
Whare his Herhaud, þi kniȝt so fre?
Alle þine kniȝtes where ben he?’
‘Ich-il þe telle,’ þan seyd sir Gij.
‘Now vnder-stond ich am sori.’
Þan teld he him al þat cas,
Hou þerl Tirri wounded was,
& hou he hadde y-heled his wounde,
& socurd his fader, & ost him founde,
& hou he passed him self vnnome,
& hou þai were þurch traisoun ouer-come,
& hou his felawes weren y-nome,
& hou þat he was þider y-come,
& hou Tirri was y-nomen þo
& þe gode Herhaud also,
& wiþ hem fif hundred kniȝtes,
Orped men & gode in fiȝtes.
‘Y not ȝif þai be liues or dede:
Al ich hem sey nimen & lede.’
When Gij hadde y-teld þat cas,
Hou iuel him bifallen was,
‘Suffre awhile, sir,’ quaþ he.
‘Ȝif it is þi wille listen to me.
Ich haue castels & cites strong
Mani and fele in mi lond:
Alle ichil bitake þe,
Mine kniȝtes ichil of-sende to me:
Fif hundred ich of-sende may,
Þat schal do þi wille niȝt and day.
Alle þat to min erldom falleþ y wil it be
To þine wille so schal com to þe.
Wende we wille to þe douk Otoun,
And bring him to destruccioun.
His londes we schul þurch-ernne,
& his castels felle, & his tounes bernne,
328
His londes destru, him seluen sle.
Of werre no swike wille we,
Al what he a-slawe be.’
‘Amis,’ quaþ Gij, ‘god ȝeld it te:
To long schuld ich here be.
Ȝif ich orn on him so þou speke,
To late ich worþ of him awreke.
For drede of deþ nille y fle.
Hastiliche ichil awreken be.’
Al a day he bileft þare,
His hert was in michel care:
Amis emforþ his miȝt
Confort him boþe day and niȝt.’
To long schuld ich here be.
Ȝif ich orn on him so þou speke,
To late ich worþ of him awreke.
For drede of deþ nille y fle.
Hastiliche ichil awreken be.’
Al a day he bileft þare,
His hert was in michel care:
Amis emforþ his miȝt
Confort him boþe day and niȝt.’
Of him he toke his leue þo,
Toward Paui he is y-go.
Amis wiþ him gon wold,
Ac he seyd þat he no schold.
Amis bileft, þat was sori,
& often to god he bad for Gij,
Þat for his swete moder loue
Leue him harmeles oȝain come.
Toward Paui he is y-go.
Amis wiþ him gon wold,
Ac he seyd þat he no schold.
Amis bileft, þat was sori,
& often to god he bad for Gij,
Þat for his swete moder loue
Leue him harmeles oȝain come.
Gij him diȝt in a-queyntise,
& com to Paui in squier wise.
An vnement purchast he
Þat made his visage out of ble:
His here, þat was ȝalu and briȝt,
Blac it bicome anon riȝt.
Nas no man in þis world so wise of siȝt
Þat afterward him knowe miȝt.
Now to Paui y-comen he is:
Of no man aferd he nis.
Þe douk Otus he fond þere,
& gret him as ȝe may here:
‘Sir douk Otus,’ he seyd, ‘god loke þe:
Al so ich it wold so mot it be.
A man icham o fer cuntre:
Hider ich come to seche þe.
Ich haue þe brouȝt here a stede,
In þis world is better non at nede.
Noris it dede a Sarazin,
And me it ȝaf, min owen cosyn:
In alle þe world is so swift a best,
Libard no ro, in no forest,
No dromedarie no is þer non
So swiþe goand so is he on.
No þarf þe drede non arme of þe se,
And tow opon þis stede be.
Ȝif ȝe nille þerof me leue
Ichil þat ȝe it asey ar eue.
Ac on maner haþ þat hors,
Þerfore mani haþ fare þe wors:
In þe world nis man þat ney him come
Þat he no wold him slon wel sone,
Bot þe man þat loked it.
Þer-fore y loue it out of witt.’
Quaþ þe douk, ‘mow gramerci.
Þis is a fair ȝift, sikerly.
Wiþ þat hors ichil at-hold þe,
& make þe riche of gold & fe.
To swiche an hors ich hadde nede,
Þat ich might þe better spede.
Of min fomen ich wold ben awreke,
& som in min prisoun ben y-steke,
Ac on of hem is schaped fro me.
Now wold god, þat alle may se,
Þat he were now in þis halle:
Wel iuel him schuld sone bifalle.
Wel sone he schuld an-honged be
Wiþ gode riȝt, y telle it te.’
‘Sir,’ quaþ Gij, ‘who [may] þat be?
In gret periil now is he.’
‘Ichil þe telle,’ quaþ þe douk þo:
‘Gij of Warwike, þat is mi fo.
Siker no be ich neuer mo
Þe whiles þat he oliues go.
Ich wold now he stode þe bi.’
‘Sir,’ quaþ he, ‘y knowe wele Gij:
He slouȝ on of mi neye kin;
Þer-fore ich am riȝt wroþ wiþ him,
& wiþ þerl Tirri also:
He is mi dedliche fo.
Þurch felonie mi fader he slouȝ,
Mi broþer he deserited wiþ wouȝ.
God lete me neuer ded be
Er ich him to mi wille se.’
‘Mi dere frende,’ seyd þe douk Otoun,
‘Ichaue Tirri in mi prisoun.
Now ich-il þou loke him to,
And alle schame þou him do.’
‘Sir,’ quaþ he, ‘gramerci,
And y þe sigge sikerly
Þat alle his liif ichil wende
Er þan come seuen niȝtes ende.’
Þe douke doþ him þe keyes take,
Maister iaioler he doþ him make.
& com to Paui in squier wise.
An vnement purchast he
Þat made his visage out of ble:
His here, þat was ȝalu and briȝt,
Blac it bicome anon riȝt.
Nas no man in þis world so wise of siȝt
Þat afterward him knowe miȝt.
Now to Paui y-comen he is:
Of no man aferd he nis.
Þe douk Otus he fond þere,
& gret him as ȝe may here:
‘Sir douk Otus,’ he seyd, ‘god loke þe:
Al so ich it wold so mot it be.
330
Hider ich come to seche þe.
Ich haue þe brouȝt here a stede,
In þis world is better non at nede.
Noris it dede a Sarazin,
And me it ȝaf, min owen cosyn:
In alle þe world is so swift a best,
Libard no ro, in no forest,
No dromedarie no is þer non
So swiþe goand so is he on.
No þarf þe drede non arme of þe se,
And tow opon þis stede be.
Ȝif ȝe nille þerof me leue
Ichil þat ȝe it asey ar eue.
Ac on maner haþ þat hors,
Þerfore mani haþ fare þe wors:
In þe world nis man þat ney him come
Þat he no wold him slon wel sone,
Bot þe man þat loked it.
Þer-fore y loue it out of witt.’
Quaþ þe douk, ‘mow gramerci.
Þis is a fair ȝift, sikerly.
Wiþ þat hors ichil at-hold þe,
& make þe riche of gold & fe.
To swiche an hors ich hadde nede,
Þat ich might þe better spede.
Of min fomen ich wold ben awreke,
& som in min prisoun ben y-steke,
Ac on of hem is schaped fro me.
Now wold god, þat alle may se,
Þat he were now in þis halle:
Wel iuel him schuld sone bifalle.
Wel sone he schuld an-honged be
Wiþ gode riȝt, y telle it te.’
‘Sir,’ quaþ Gij, ‘who [may] þat be?
In gret periil now is he.’
332
‘Gij of Warwike, þat is mi fo.
Siker no be ich neuer mo
Þe whiles þat he oliues go.
Ich wold now he stode þe bi.’
‘Sir,’ quaþ he, ‘y knowe wele Gij:
He slouȝ on of mi neye kin;
Þer-fore ich am riȝt wroþ wiþ him,
& wiþ þerl Tirri also:
He is mi dedliche fo.
Þurch felonie mi fader he slouȝ,
Mi broþer he deserited wiþ wouȝ.
God lete me neuer ded be
Er ich him to mi wille se.’
‘Mi dere frende,’ seyd þe douk Otoun,
‘Ichaue Tirri in mi prisoun.
Now ich-il þou loke him to,
And alle schame þou him do.’
‘Sir,’ quaþ he, ‘gramerci,
And y þe sigge sikerly
Þat alle his liif ichil wende
Er þan come seuen niȝtes ende.’
Þe douke doþ him þe keyes take,
Maister iaioler he doþ him make.
Þe douk oxeþ what his name be:
‘Yon men clepet me in mi cuntre.’
‘Yon,’ he seyd, ‘ichot now þe
Þat þou þat hors wele kepe me.’
An hous he deliuer[d] him þo
Þat no þing com in bot þai to.
Þe douk þat nouȝt no wist,
Þat Gij was þer-in, bi Crist.
Alle his wille he may now do,
Non vn-worþschip men seyd him to.
Gij into a tour is y-go,
A strong prisoun fond he þo:
Fourti fadom depe it was.
He hadde y-herd cri, ‘allas’:
He oxed anon who þat were
Þat made þer so reuly bere.
‘Ich,’ he seyd, ‘a wreched man:
Me reuweþ sore þat y liues am.
Erl Tirri mi nam is:
Now icham a wreche, y-wis.
Þe douk no misdede y neuer nouȝt,
And in þis prisoun icham y-brouȝt.
More iren about me is
Þan a somer miȝt beren, y-wis,
On armes, on legges, on bodi also.
Mi deþ ich wold were com me to.
For þan þat ich felawe was
To a kniȝt þat neuer his better nas,
Whom þe douk Otus hated, y-wis,
On me þe wreche fallen now is.
Þat ich ete þis is þe þridde day:
Long liue y no may.’
‘Yon men clepet me in mi cuntre.’
‘Yon,’ he seyd, ‘ichot now þe
Þat þou þat hors wele kepe me.’
An hous he deliuer[d] him þo
Þat no þing com in bot þai to.
Þe douk þat nouȝt no wist,
Þat Gij was þer-in, bi Crist.
Alle his wille he may now do,
Non vn-worþschip men seyd him to.
Gij into a tour is y-go,
A strong prisoun fond he þo:
334
He hadde y-herd cri, ‘allas’:
He oxed anon who þat were
Þat made þer so reuly bere.
‘Ich,’ he seyd, ‘a wreched man:
Me reuweþ sore þat y liues am.
Erl Tirri mi nam is:
Now icham a wreche, y-wis.
Þe douk no misdede y neuer nouȝt,
And in þis prisoun icham y-brouȝt.
More iren about me is
Þan a somer miȝt beren, y-wis,
On armes, on legges, on bodi also.
Mi deþ ich wold were com me to.
For þan þat ich felawe was
To a kniȝt þat neuer his better nas,
Whom þe douk Otus hated, y-wis,
On me þe wreche fallen now is.
Þat ich ete þis is þe þridde day:
Long liue y no may.’
‘Tirri,’ quaþ Gij, ‘no be nouȝt wo:
Icham Gij þou louedest so.
Out of prisoun y schal cast þe
So sone y may mi time se.’
Sir Tirri spac to Gij þo,
Icham Gij þou louedest so.
Out of prisoun y schal cast þe
So sone y may mi time se.’
‘For godes loue, hennes þou go.
Hou come þou hider, sir Gij?
Þine hider-com wil me harmi.
Ȝif þe douk wite þat þou it be
Þis ich day he wil sle þe.
Leuer me were al-on to day
Þan wite þe ded, soþe to say.
Þerfore, sir, hennes þou go;
For godes loue, sir, do now so.’
Als þai togider speken þis
A Lombard it of-herd, y-wis,
336
Þerfore ichim suwed, god it wot,
& smot him so þou miȝt se.
Þe gilt, sir, for-ȝiue þou me.
Soþe to sigge in þis stede,
For þine anour ich it dede,
Þat oþer bi him y-warned be
To fede þi prisoun wiþ-outen þe.’
Þe douk gret oþ swore þo,
Þat ȝif he oþer-loker had do
He worþ to-drawe, oþer an-hong,
Or oþer schames deþ to afong;
‘Ac now forȝiuen it þe be.’
Gij him þonked on his kne.
Sone so þe niȝt him come,
Gij into þe cite nome:
Mete anouȝ he bouȝt þere,
And to Tirri he gan it bere.
Þus he dede y not hou long,
Michel he slaked his pine strong,
Alle his bendes doþ oway,
And slakeþ his pine so michel so he may.
Into a chaumber he goþ on a day,
Þerin he fond þat fair may,
Þat biment hir strongliche
For hir leman sche loued so miche.
Gij seyd to hir, ‘maiden fre,
Wele þou owest to knowe me:
Gij of Warwike mi name is,
Icham þi lemanes felawe, y-wis.
In þis maner y-comen icham,
For y nold be knowen of no man,
And for to deliuer þi leman
Þat ich michel gode an.’
When þe maiden herd þis,
Þat it was Gij, for soþe y-wis,
338
And vp hir toke þe gode Gyoun.
‘Maiden,’ he seyd, ‘lete now be:
Wiltow now schende me?
Ȝif ani me perceiue miȝt
Ich were y-honged anon riȝt.’
‘Merci, sir Gij,’ seyd þat may,
‘Now wiþin þe þridde day
To him spoused schal y be;
Ac o þing ich haue biþouȝt me,
Þat ichil mi-selue sle
Þat day þat y schal spoused be.’
Gij seyd, ‘no do nouȝt so,
Ac alle his wille þou schalt do,
And ar he to þe chirche come
Y schal mete him atte frome:
His heued fro þe bodi schal fle,
& lede y schal þe forþ wiþ me.’
Now is Gij þennes y-gon hom,
And also swiþe so niȝt come
To þe prisoun anon he ȝede,
And deliuerd his felawe in þat stede.
‘Sir Tirri,’ he seyd, ‘forþ þou go
(Niȝt no day no swike þou no)
Riȝt to Amis of þe Mounteyne,
Þat woneþ in þe marche of Almeyne.
On mine half grete him wele bi me.
Þider þou go, & ful wele rest þe,
Fort ich com, or man for me.’
‘Bleþeliche, sir,’ þan seyd he.
Hye kisten hem, and forþ ȝede þo;
At her parting hem was ful wo.
Aiþer for oþer for gret pite
In gret periil hadde y-be.
Gi lete him of þe tour þo,
Bitauȝt him god, & lete him go.
340
Of alle niȝt no hadde he rest þare.
So long is Tirri forþ y-gon,
To þe Mounteyn he com anon;
A castel þer was fair wiþalle,
And strong cite biloken wiþ walle;
Fair halles & toures also
In þe cite were mani & mo.
In þat on half orn þe riuer,
In þat oþer half forest wiþ wilde dere.
Into þe cite he is y-go,
And to þe maister palays he ȝede þo.
He fond Amis atte ches pleyinge
Wiþ his felawes, fair gamen giuing.
Þritti kniȝtes were in halle also
His soudours were, his wil to do,
Þat wiþ Amis bileften he
For wer þat was in þat cuntre.
‘Sir,’ quaþ Tirri, ‘ȝif it be þi wille,
Vnder-stond & speke me tille
Al priueliche, y þe biseche,
Þat þi folk no here our speche.’
Amis answerd, ‘wel bleþeliche
Wille ich it do & loueliche.’
Fram þe cheker he is y-go,
And to a windowe he cleped him þo.
‘Sir Amis,’ seyd Tirri,
‘Often þe greteþ wele sir Gij;
& hider to ȝou he sent me,
For to soiourne here wiþ þe,
Fort he may hider come,
Oþer anoþer send for him atte frome.’
‘Sir,’ quaþ Amis, ‘miche þanke haue he,
Þat he þe sent hider to me.
What is þi name? say þou me.’
‘Ichil þe telle, sir,’ quaþ he:
342
Aschaped of strong prisoun, y-wis.’
‘Sir Tirri,’ þan seyd he,
‘Welcome in-to þis cuntre!’
He kist him an hundred siþe,
Wiþ eyȝen he wepe, so was he bliþe.
& for he him so miseise y-seye
Of prisoun aschaped, bliþe was hye.
He dede him baþe, sikerly,
And al þing diȝt him redi.
Wiþ riche cloþes he dede him schrede,
& fond him alle þat him was nede.
He ȝaf him armes and riche stede,
& diȝt him þer alle wiþ prede.
Þennes no went he for no þing,
Er he of Gij hadde tiding.
Of þe douk ichil ȝou telle,
& þan of Gij, ȝif ȝe wille.
Þe douk of-sent his barnage in hast,
Þat þai com to him riȝt fast
Into þe cite of Pauie,
Alle þe Lombardes of Lombardie.
When þe time it comen was,
Þe douk was bliþe & glad in þat cas.
To þe maiden he come swiþe,
As he þat was glad & bliþe,
And seyd, ‘leman, glad make þe;
Today þou schalt y-spoused be.’
‘Sir,’ sche seyd, ‘wiþ gode wille
Alle þine hest ichil fulfille.’
He schred hir swiþe wele, y-wis
Wiþ riche cloþes alle of pris;
He sette hir on a palfrey, þat ȝongling,
Better no bistrode neuer no king.
Riche anouȝ þat atire was
Of gold & siluer: no noþer þer nas.
Toward a chirche went hye;
Wiþ ioie he wend hir to spousi.
& þan of Gij, ȝif ȝe wille.
Þe douk of-sent his barnage in hast,
Þat þai com to him riȝt fast
Into þe cite of Pauie,
Alle þe Lombardes of Lombardie.
When þe time it comen was,
Þe douk was bliþe & glad in þat cas.
To þe maiden he come swiþe,
As he þat was glad & bliþe,
And seyd, ‘leman, glad make þe;
Today þou schalt y-spoused be.’
‘Sir,’ sche seyd, ‘wiþ gode wille
Alle þine hest ichil fulfille.’
He schred hir swiþe wele, y-wis
Wiþ riche cloþes alle of pris;
He sette hir on a palfrey, þat ȝongling,
Better no bistrode neuer no king.
Riche anouȝ þat atire was
Of gold & siluer: no noþer þer nas.
344
Wiþ ioie he wend hir to spousi.
Gij armed him wel richeliche
Alto his wille stalworþliche
Wiþ armes þe maiden him had bitouȝt,
Þat were þe douke to present brouȝt.
His gode stede he bi-strod,
And of-tok hem wiþ-outen abod.
Alto his wille stalworþliche
Wiþ armes þe maiden him had bitouȝt,
Þat were þe douke to present brouȝt.
His gode stede he bi-strod,
And of-tok hem wiþ-outen abod.
‘Douk Otus, vnder-stond to me:
No go no forþer, ich hot þe.
Vnder-stond þe of þat traisoun
Þat þou dest to sir Gyoun,
Also he com fram Boneuent:
Ȝete is mi hert þer-fore in turment;
& seþþen þou dest me a gret traisoun,
Þo þou Tirri dest in þi prisoun.
No go no forþer, ich hot þe.
Vnder-stond þe of þat traisoun
Þat þou dest to sir Gyoun,
Also he com fram Boneuent:
Ȝete is mi hert þer-fore in turment;
& seþþen þou dest me a gret traisoun,
Þo þou Tirri dest in þi prisoun.
Icham Gij þat to þe speke:
Ȝete today y þenk to ben awreke.’
Þurch þe bodi he smot him anon
Bifor þe Lombardes euerichon,
And swore bi god, heuen king,
Ȝif him neyed ani þing,
Þat heued he schuld þer forgon.
To þat maiden he cam anon,
Bitven his armes þe maiden he nam,
& sett hir biforn him: oway he ran.
Swiþe owaiward þan rod he:
Þe noise aros in þat cite.
Wiþ gret strengþe þai driuen Gi:
He paseþ hem: oȝain went hij.
Oȝain þai went to þat bodi riȝt,
Ac a child-ȝong man, apliȝt,
Þat was þe doukes kinseman
(Berard was his riȝt nam),
Alle on he folwed sir Gij
(He no hadde felawe no frend him bi)
Wiþ scheld & spere opon his stede:
A gode kniȝt he was at nede.
He folwed Gij fif mile,
Þat Gij fore in a litel while.
‘Gij,’ he seyd, ‘turn oȝe,
So help þe Crist, & iuste wiþ me.’
Gij turned him wel an hast,
For he no was nouȝt of him agast.
Þe maiden he to grounde sett,
& diȝt his armes wiþ-outen lett,
& went to him wiþ gret miȝt,
& he to him anon riȝt.
Ȝete today y þenk to ben awreke.’
Þurch þe bodi he smot him anon
Bifor þe Lombardes euerichon,
And swore bi god, heuen king,
Ȝif him neyed ani þing,
Þat heued he schuld þer forgon.
To þat maiden he cam anon,
Bitven his armes þe maiden he nam,
& sett hir biforn him: oway he ran.
Swiþe owaiward þan rod he:
Þe noise aros in þat cite.
Wiþ gret strengþe þai driuen Gi:
He paseþ hem: oȝain went hij.
Oȝain þai went to þat bodi riȝt,
Ac a child-ȝong man, apliȝt,
346
(Berard was his riȝt nam),
Alle on he folwed sir Gij
(He no hadde felawe no frend him bi)
Wiþ scheld & spere opon his stede:
A gode kniȝt he was at nede.
He folwed Gij fif mile,
Þat Gij fore in a litel while.
‘Gij,’ he seyd, ‘turn oȝe,
So help þe Crist, & iuste wiþ me.’
Gij turned him wel an hast,
For he no was nouȝt of him agast.
Þe maiden he to grounde sett,
& diȝt his armes wiþ-outen lett,
& went to him wiþ gret miȝt,
& he to him anon riȝt.
Þe ȝong man smot first Gij
Þurch þe scheld, sikerli:
He carf þe brini þat newe was,
Nouȝt worþ a botoun it nas.
Gij of þat strok wonder haþ.
Anoþer strok sir Gij him ȝaf:
Gij anon smot þat ȝong man,
Þurch his scheld anon it ran,
& þurch þe scholder he ȝaf him wounde,
Þat hors & man it fel to grounde.
& when þe ȝongman was y-falle
Vp he stert sone wiþ-alle.
Anon his swerd he haþ out drawe,
His hors he wold habbe y-slawe.
‘Hors,’ he seyd, ‘acursed þou be,
When þou no miȝt vp-hold me.
Þat þou dye it is riȝt,
Seþþen þou in þe has no miȝt.
Gij,’ quaþ Berard, ‘wende to me,
& of þine hauberk vnarmi þe:
So long forþ wenten he,
Þat hij come to þat cite
Of Mounteyne, þat feir was:
So þai went [in] wiþ ioie & solas.
When he into þe halle come,
Amis him knew riȝt anon.
When he him seye þan seyd he,
‘Sir Gij, welcom mot þou be.’
When sir Tirri Gij y-seþ
& Oisel, þat him was so lef,
Michel ioie he made Gij þo,
Þat maiden he nam in his armes to.
‘Gij,’ he seyd, ‘welcome þou be.
Þat þus asembled now be we!
Nold god & our leuedi
Þat mi lef be schent of hir bodi.’
Þai kisten hem togider anon,
For ioie þai wepen euerichon.
When Oisel y-seþ sir Tirri,
Þurch þe scheld, sikerli:
He carf þe brini þat newe was,
Nouȝt worþ a botoun it nas.
Gij of þat strok wonder haþ.
Anoþer strok sir Gij him ȝaf:
Gij anon smot þat ȝong man,
Þurch his scheld anon it ran,
& þurch þe scholder he ȝaf him wounde,
Þat hors & man it fel to grounde.
& when þe ȝongman was y-falle
Vp he stert sone wiþ-alle.
Anon his swerd he haþ out drawe,
His hors he wold habbe y-slawe.
‘Hors,’ he seyd, ‘acursed þou be,
When þou no miȝt vp-hold me.
Þat þou dye it is riȝt,
Seþþen þou in þe has no miȝt.
Gij,’ quaþ Berard, ‘wende to me,
& of þine hauberk vnarmi þe:
348
Þat hij come to þat cite
Of Mounteyne, þat feir was:
So þai went [in] wiþ ioie & solas.
When he into þe halle come,
Amis him knew riȝt anon.
When he him seye þan seyd he,
‘Sir Gij, welcom mot þou be.’
When sir Tirri Gij y-seþ
& Oisel, þat him was so lef,
Michel ioie he made Gij þo,
Þat maiden he nam in his armes to.
‘Gij,’ he seyd, ‘welcome þou be.
Þat þus asembled now be we!
Nold god & our leuedi
Þat mi lef be schent of hir bodi.’
Þai kisten hem togider anon,
For ioie þai wepen euerichon.
Þat was hir lef & hir ami,
For ioie sche swoned omong hem.
Þer wende sche nouȝt to finden him.
Tirri nam hir in his armes tvo,
& sweteliche seyd to hir þo,
‘Mi swete leman, no drede þe nouȝt:
Hole & sounde icham hider brouȝt.’
Amonges hem was ioie & blis,
And soiournd þere, y-wis,
To her wille in þat palais:
Sir Amis was hende & curteys.
So on a day biþouȝt him sir Gij
Þat long soiournd hadden hy.
Amis he cleped to him & sir Tirri:
‘Herkeniþ to me,’ seyd sir Gij.
‘Soiournd we haue here anow:
Now is time we go fram ȝou
350
Wele y wot he is for ous sori.
Of-sende ichil baroun & kniȝtes,
& ern ichil opon þe douk wiþ gret miȝtes,
& mine felawes out of prisoun bring:
Ich no may hem forȝete for no þing.
Ich man schal his miȝt don,
For to awreke him of his fon.’
‘Sir,’ quaþ Amis, ‘ichil go wiþ þe,
And a þousend kniȝtes forþ wiþ me,
A þousend seriauns also
Wele on hors, wiþ-outen mo.’
‘Gramerci, sir,’ þan seyd Gij,
‘On þe al mi trust is, sikerli.’
Amis of-sent his kniȝtes anon,
And haþ asembled hem euerichon,
His seriauns he dede also,
Þe best þat miȝt to fiȝt go.
When þat þai wer al redi
forþ þai wenten hastily.
To-ward Gormoise hij goþ,
Mani man þai made wel wroþ:
Þai nimen castels & cites,
& destruen alle þe cuntres.
To Gormoise þai ben y-come:
Glad þai ben alle & some,
Ouer alle oþer þerl Aubri.
When he seþ his sone Tirri
He fel aswon for ioie þo:
He wende he had ben forlorn for euer mo.
Þer was ioie & miche blis
Bitven þe fader & þe sone, y-wis.
Euerich told oþer, & forȝat nouȝt,
Hou Gij hem haþ fram deþ y-brouȝt.
And haþ asembled hem euerichon,
His seriauns he dede also,
Þe best þat miȝt to fiȝt go.
When þat þai wer al redi
forþ þai wenten hastily.
To-ward Gormoise hij goþ,
Mani man þai made wel wroþ:
Þai nimen castels & cites,
& destruen alle þe cuntres.
To Gormoise þai ben y-come:
Glad þai ben alle & some,
Ouer alle oþer þerl Aubri.
When he seþ his sone Tirri
He fel aswon for ioie þo:
He wende he had ben forlorn for euer mo.
Þer was ioie & miche blis
Bitven þe fader & þe sone, y-wis.
Euerich told oþer, & forȝat nouȝt,
Hou Gij hem haþ fram deþ y-brouȝt.
Gij nouȝt for-ȝete nold,
Asembled he haþ his kniȝtes bold.
Þe douk he haþ a grete harm y-do,
He þouȝt for to awreke him so.
When þe douk Loer herd þis tiding,
Þat Gij and Tirri were coming,
His douhte[r] Oysel also,
Wel glad & bliþe he was þo.
Herhaud he cleped him to,
& teld him þe soþe þo,
Þat Gij and Tirri wer y-come,
& hadde on hem wer y-nome,
Wiþ hem was þerl Amis
Wiþ ferred of miche pris.
When Herhaud y-herd þis,
Þat Gij and Tirri comen is,
Neuer nas he so bliþe:
God he þonked mani siþe.
Asembled he haþ his kniȝtes bold.
352
He þouȝt for to awreke him so.
When þe douk Loer herd þis tiding,
Þat Gij and Tirri were coming,
His douhte[r] Oysel also,
Wel glad & bliþe he was þo.
Herhaud he cleped him to,
& teld him þe soþe þo,
Þat Gij and Tirri wer y-come,
& hadde on hem wer y-nome,
Wiþ hem was þerl Amis
Wiþ ferred of miche pris.
When Herhaud y-herd þis,
Þat Gij and Tirri comen is,
Neuer nas he so bliþe:
God he þonked mani siþe.
‘Sir Herhaud,’ seyd þe douk Loer,
‘Ichil þe make messanger:
To þerl Aubri þou schal go,
& Gij, & Tirri, & sigge hem so,
Þat ich wiþ hem acord wille
Of alle þat þai cun to me telle.
Sir Tirri ichil mi douhter ȝiue,
& half mi lond while þat y liue.
Ichil þat þou wittnesse me
Þat þe loue ste[de]fast be.’
‘Sir,’ quaþ Herhaud, ‘ichil so
Alle mi miȝt do þer-to.’
Þe douke of-sent his prisouns alle,
& dede hem arme swiþe snelle,
& hete hem þat þai failed nouȝt
Of þat þai hadde þider y-brouȝt.
‘Forþ wiþ Herhaud ȝe schal gon,
Þe acord to make riȝt anon.’
Herhaud made him redi þo,
Riȝt into Gormoise he is y-go,
& wiþ him went alle þe kniȝtes,
Acord to make anon riȝtes.
Gij cam on a day fram hunting,
Þerl Amis, & Tirri þe ȝing,
& mo þan an hundred kniȝt,
Wiþ swerd bigirt, y ȝou pliȝt.
Toward Gormoise þai ben y-go,
Bisiden hem þai loked þo;
So mani kniȝtes þai seye coming,
Of traisoun þai were dredeing.
Þan seyd [of] þe Mountayn Amis,
‘A gret ferd y se, y-wis.
Y not what folk it be:
Hiderward þai com, so þenkeþ me.’
Opon his gode stede he wond
Wiþ swerd & spere in his hond.
Þiderward he is y-go,
To hem he com wel sone þo.
Þo he gan hem com neye
Herhaud of Ardern þer he seye
He oxed him whennes he come.
‘Where is Gij?’ he seyd anon.
‘Sir,’ quaþ he, ‘ichil þe telle,
& lade þe to him wiþ gode wille.
Fram dere hunting y-comen he is:
Biside þanne hulle ichim lete, y-wis.’
Quaþ Herhaud, ‘felawes, wil we go.’
Wiþ sporres hij smiten her stedes þo:
Swiþe þai riden wiþ gret hy.
When þai seye Gij & sir Tirri,
‘God,’ quaþ Gij, ‘Herhaud y se
& alle min feren, so þenkeþ me:
Þai ben out of prisoun y-gon
Oþer quite-cleymed ichon.’
To kissen Herhaud þai hem do,
Wel gret ioie þai maden þo.
‘Sir Tirri,’ quaþ Herhaud þe fre,
‘Gode conseyl y telle to þe.
Þe sent to grete þe douk Loer,
Whom ich loue wiþ hert cler:
Worþschiped he haþ me miche,
And ouer alle oþer loued, sikerliche.
Wiþ þe he wil acorded be,
And swiþe miche he loueþ þe.
Þou schalt his douhter spousi:
Wiþ half his lond he wille þe feffi;
And wiþ þi fader he wil acordy,
And allso wiþ þe, sir Gij:
In alle maner to þi wille
He wille amende, for soþe y telle.
Ichil þer-of his borwe be,
Þat he do wil as y sigge to þe.’
Alle þai bisouȝten sir Gij,
And so þai dede þerl Tirri,
Þat þai schuld wiþ him acordy,
For he was michel to praisy.
So long þai bisouȝt him so,
And wiþ hem Amis, þat þer was þo.
Þer of acord speken he,
Þat it schuld treuwe be.
To þe cite þai ben y-gon,
& teld þerl Aubri anon
Hou þat Herhaud was y-come,
And hadde þe acord vnder-nome,
Þerl graunted raþe & snelle
Þe acord to Herhaudes wille.
No soiournd þai nouȝt long þo,
Bot riȝt to Loreyn þai ben y-go:
Þerl Aubri & Tirri his sone,
Gij & Herhaud ben þider y-come,
& of oþer kniȝtes mani also,
Þat bliþe were þider to go.
Þerl Aubri, & Tirri his sone,
Gij, Herhaud, & Amis þider come.
Mani was þe gentil kniȝt
Þat wiþ hem went þo riȝt.
To Loreyne þai ben comen, y-wis:
Þe douke hem vnderfeng wiþ blis.
Wiþ him þai were acorded alle,
& þe misdede forȝeuen snelle.
Gret joie þai maden in þe cite
Þat hij so fair acorded be.
Þe douk ȝaf Tirri his douhter þo,
And half his lond wiþ hir also,
Bifor barouns & kniȝtes fre,
Þat þer were of mani cuntre:
Bridal sone þai han y-hold:
Of erls, & of barouns bold,
& of emperours, & of king
Nas neuer non so riche gestening.
‘Ichil þe make messanger:
To þerl Aubri þou schal go,
& Gij, & Tirri, & sigge hem so,
Þat ich wiþ hem acord wille
Of alle þat þai cun to me telle.
Sir Tirri ichil mi douhter ȝiue,
& half mi lond while þat y liue.
Ichil þat þou wittnesse me
Þat þe loue ste[de]fast be.’
‘Sir,’ quaþ Herhaud, ‘ichil so
Alle mi miȝt do þer-to.’
Þe douke of-sent his prisouns alle,
& dede hem arme swiþe snelle,
& hete hem þat þai failed nouȝt
Of þat þai hadde þider y-brouȝt.
‘Forþ wiþ Herhaud ȝe schal gon,
Þe acord to make riȝt anon.’
Herhaud made him redi þo,
Riȝt into Gormoise he is y-go,
354
Acord to make anon riȝtes.
Gij cam on a day fram hunting,
Þerl Amis, & Tirri þe ȝing,
& mo þan an hundred kniȝt,
Wiþ swerd bigirt, y ȝou pliȝt.
Toward Gormoise þai ben y-go,
Bisiden hem þai loked þo;
So mani kniȝtes þai seye coming,
Of traisoun þai were dredeing.
Þan seyd [of] þe Mountayn Amis,
‘A gret ferd y se, y-wis.
Y not what folk it be:
Hiderward þai com, so þenkeþ me.’
Opon his gode stede he wond
Wiþ swerd & spere in his hond.
Þiderward he is y-go,
To hem he com wel sone þo.
Þo he gan hem com neye
Herhaud of Ardern þer he seye
He oxed him whennes he come.
‘Where is Gij?’ he seyd anon.
‘Sir,’ quaþ he, ‘ichil þe telle,
& lade þe to him wiþ gode wille.
Fram dere hunting y-comen he is:
Biside þanne hulle ichim lete, y-wis.’
Quaþ Herhaud, ‘felawes, wil we go.’
Wiþ sporres hij smiten her stedes þo:
Swiþe þai riden wiþ gret hy.
When þai seye Gij & sir Tirri,
‘God,’ quaþ Gij, ‘Herhaud y se
& alle min feren, so þenkeþ me:
Þai ben out of prisoun y-gon
Oþer quite-cleymed ichon.’
To kissen Herhaud þai hem do,
Wel gret ioie þai maden þo.
356
‘Gode conseyl y telle to þe.
Þe sent to grete þe douk Loer,
Whom ich loue wiþ hert cler:
Worþschiped he haþ me miche,
And ouer alle oþer loued, sikerliche.
Wiþ þe he wil acorded be,
And swiþe miche he loueþ þe.
Þou schalt his douhter spousi:
Wiþ half his lond he wille þe feffi;
And wiþ þi fader he wil acordy,
And allso wiþ þe, sir Gij:
In alle maner to þi wille
He wille amende, for soþe y telle.
Ichil þer-of his borwe be,
Þat he do wil as y sigge to þe.’
Alle þai bisouȝten sir Gij,
And so þai dede þerl Tirri,
Þat þai schuld wiþ him acordy,
For he was michel to praisy.
So long þai bisouȝt him so,
And wiþ hem Amis, þat þer was þo.
Þer of acord speken he,
Þat it schuld treuwe be.
To þe cite þai ben y-gon,
& teld þerl Aubri anon
Hou þat Herhaud was y-come,
And hadde þe acord vnder-nome,
Þerl graunted raþe & snelle
Þe acord to Herhaudes wille.
No soiournd þai nouȝt long þo,
Bot riȝt to Loreyn þai ben y-go:
Þerl Aubri & Tirri his sone,
Gij & Herhaud ben þider y-come,
& of oþer kniȝtes mani also,
Þat bliþe were þider to go.
358
Gij, Herhaud, & Amis þider come.
Mani was þe gentil kniȝt
Þat wiþ hem went þo riȝt.
To Loreyne þai ben comen, y-wis:
Þe douke hem vnderfeng wiþ blis.
Wiþ him þai were acorded alle,
& þe misdede forȝeuen snelle.
Gret joie þai maden in þe cite
Þat hij so fair acorded be.
Þe douk ȝaf Tirri his douhter þo,
And half his lond wiþ hir also,
Bifor barouns & kniȝtes fre,
Þat þer were of mani cuntre:
Bridal sone þai han y-hold:
Of erls, & of barouns bold,
& of emperours, & of king
Nas neuer non so riche gestening.
Þe kniȝtes nomen her leue anon,
Vnto her cuntres þai ben y-gon:
Sir Gij soiournd þare.
On a day he is þennes y-fare:
Þe douk Loer & mani a man
In hunting þai were toward Braban;
On hunting went þerl Tirri
& mani in his compeynie.
Þai comen into a fair forest,
Þer þai fond a bore, a wilde best.
Þai vncoupled her houndes alle,
& lete hem ern swiþ snelle.
Þe bore fleing swiþe he geþ,
& mani of þe houndes harme he deþ:
An hundred he slouȝ and mo,
Out of þat cuntre he is sone y-go.
Þe wisest hunt folweþ fast,
Huweþ & gredeþ wiþ gret blast.
Sone he worþ in a peril strong,
Be it wiþ riȝt, be it wiþ wrong.
Þo Gij hadde opened þat swine snelle
He gan to blowe as y ȝou telle.
‘Bi god,’ quaþ þerl Florentin,
‘Who mai þat be, for seyn Martin,
Þat ich here in mi forest blowe?
Hert oþer bore he haþ doun þrowe.’
He cleped to him a kniȝt ȝing,
His sone he was, a feir ȝongling.
‘Sone,’ he seyd, ‘to hors þou go,
& who so it be, bring him me to.’
‘Sir, y graunt þat it be so.’
Anon he lepe on hors þo:
Into þe forest he is y-fare,
& Gij he fond ful sone þare.
An staf he bar of holin tre:
Gret wo þer-wiþ wrouȝt he.
‘Lording,’ he seyd, ‘who artow
In mi lordes forest is comen now
Wiþ-outen leue of mi lord?
In iuel time þou come, at o word:
When þou hast y-nomen his swin
No leue haddestow of him.
Þat hors anon þou take to me,
Þer-on no schaltow ride, y telle þe.’
‘Leue frende,’ quaþ Gij, ‘þat nille y do.
Þat hors no tit þe, so mot y go.
Kniȝtes riȝt is it non
Þat he schuld fer o fot gon.
To þi wille ichil wende wiþ þe,
To seche þe waiis of þis cuntre.
Þis horn þou miȝt wele haue,
And tow wiþ loue it wille craue.’
‘Lording,’ he seyd, ‘oþer is mi þouȝt:
Vnto her cuntres þai ben y-gon:
Sir Gij soiournd þare.
On a day he is þennes y-fare:
Þe douk Loer & mani a man
In hunting þai were toward Braban;
On hunting went þerl Tirri
& mani in his compeynie.
Þai comen into a fair forest,
Þer þai fond a bore, a wilde best.
Þai vncoupled her houndes alle,
& lete hem ern swiþ snelle.
Þe bore fleing swiþe he geþ,
& mani of þe houndes harme he deþ:
An hundred he slouȝ and mo,
Out of þat cuntre he is sone y-go.
Þe wisest hunt folweþ fast,
Huweþ & gredeþ wiþ gret blast.
360
Be it wiþ riȝt, be it wiþ wrong.
Þo Gij hadde opened þat swine snelle
He gan to blowe as y ȝou telle.
‘Bi god,’ quaþ þerl Florentin,
‘Who mai þat be, for seyn Martin,
Þat ich here in mi forest blowe?
Hert oþer bore he haþ doun þrowe.’
He cleped to him a kniȝt ȝing,
His sone he was, a feir ȝongling.
‘Sone,’ he seyd, ‘to hors þou go,
& who so it be, bring him me to.’
‘Sir, y graunt þat it be so.’
Anon he lepe on hors þo:
Into þe forest he is y-fare,
& Gij he fond ful sone þare.
An staf he bar of holin tre:
Gret wo þer-wiþ wrouȝt he.
‘Lording,’ he seyd, ‘who artow
In mi lordes forest is comen now
Wiþ-outen leue of mi lord?
In iuel time þou come, at o word:
When þou hast y-nomen his swin
No leue haddestow of him.
Þat hors anon þou take to me,
Þer-on no schaltow ride, y telle þe.’
‘Leue frende,’ quaþ Gij, ‘þat nille y do.
Þat hors no tit þe, so mot y go.
Kniȝtes riȝt is it non
Þat he schuld fer o fot gon.
To þi wille ichil wende wiþ þe,
To seche þe waiis of þis cuntre.
Þis horn þou miȝt wele haue,
And tow wiþ loue it wille craue.’
So astow wenest no schapestow nouȝt.’
362
A man he semed of michel miȝt.
Biforn him anon Gij him dede,
& feir he gret him in þat stede.
‘Sir,’ quaþ Gij, ‘vnderstond to me:
He þat þe warld made he blisce þe.
Icham a kniȝt as ȝe may se:
Y bid þe mete par charite.
A meles mete ȝif þou me,
& seþþen hennes ichil te.’
‘Leue frende,’ he seyd, ‘sikerly,
Þou schalt it haue gladly.’
Þe water he axed þo anon,
To wasche his honden Gij is go[n].
To mete he sett him in þat stede,
Bred & win biforn him þai dede,
& gret plente of oþer mete.
When he hadde sumdele y-ete
In þe toun he herd belles ring,
& loude crie, & miche wepeing,
Cloþes to-tere, her to-te:
More sorwe no miȝt non be.
‘God,’ quaþ þerl, ‘lord fre,
Þis gret sorwe whi it be?’
Into þe halle come þere
Tvai men, & a bodi bere:
Amid þe flore þai it leyden, y-wis.
Quaþ þerl Florentin, ‘mi sone þis is,’
Torent his here, his cloþes he drouȝ:
In his hert was sorwe anouȝ.
‘Leue sone,’ he seyd, ‘who slouȝ þe?
Now wold god, þat is so fre,
Þat he were here in mi beylie!
Nold ich it lete for al Romanie,
Þat he no were anon y-slawe,
For-brent, & þat dust to-blowe.’
Þe kniȝtes he slouȝ þere,
Þe best þat in þat court were.
He þat þe warld made he blisce þe.
Icham a kniȝt as ȝe may se:
Y bid þe mete par charite.
A meles mete ȝif þou me,
& seþþen hennes ichil te.’
‘Leue frende,’ he seyd, ‘sikerly,
Þou schalt it haue gladly.’
Þe water he axed þo anon,
To wasche his honden Gij is go[n].
To mete he sett him in þat stede,
Bred & win biforn him þai dede,
& gret plente of oþer mete.
When he hadde sumdele y-ete
In þe toun he herd belles ring,
& loude crie, & miche wepeing,
Cloþes to-tere, her to-te:
More sorwe no miȝt non be.
‘God,’ quaþ þerl, ‘lord fre,
Þis gret sorwe whi it be?’
Into þe halle come þere
Tvai men, & a bodi bere:
Amid þe flore þai it leyden, y-wis.
Quaþ þerl Florentin, ‘mi sone þis is,’
Torent his here, his cloþes he drouȝ:
In his hert was sorwe anouȝ.
‘Leue sone,’ he seyd, ‘who slouȝ þe?
Now wold god, þat is so fre,
Þat he were here in mi beylie!
Nold ich it lete for al Romanie,
Þat he no were anon y-slawe,
For-brent, & þat dust to-blowe.’
364
Þe best þat in þat court were.
‘Sir Florentin,’ seyd sir Gij,
‘For godes loue now merci!
Þou art y-hold so gode a man,
Hennes to Rome better nis nan:
& þou in þine halle me sle,
For traisoun it worþ awist þe.
In edwite it worþ þe adrawe,
Swiche a man þou schust haue slawe,
When þou wiþ þi wille fre
Þe mete me ȝeue par charite.
Were it wiþ wrong, were it wiþ riȝt,
For tresoun it worþ þe witt, apliȝt;
Opon alle þing a þing atte mete,
Þer ȝe ouȝt me to were fram hete.
For godes loue, sir, so michel do me,
Þat ȝe þer-fore blamed no be:
Do me deliuer mi stede,
& lete me out at þe castel ride,
& seþþen þei y slawe be
No worþ ȝe nouȝt y-blamed in þe cuntre.’
Þerl him wiþ-drouȝ wiþ þat:
‘For godes loue now merci!
Þou art y-hold so gode a man,
Hennes to Rome better nis nan:
& þou in þine halle me sle,
For traisoun it worþ awist þe.
In edwite it worþ þe adrawe,
Swiche a man þou schust haue slawe,
When þou wiþ þi wille fre
Þe mete me ȝeue par charite.
Were it wiþ wrong, were it wiþ riȝt,
For tresoun it worþ þe witt, apliȝt;
Opon alle þing a þing atte mete,
Þer ȝe ouȝt me to were fram hete.
For godes loue, sir, so michel do me,
Þat ȝe þer-fore blamed no be:
Do me deliuer mi stede,
& lete me out at þe castel ride,
& seþþen þei y slawe be
No worþ ȝe nouȝt y-blamed in þe cuntre.’
At his hert gret sorwe sat,
Þat he his sone seye ligge ded.
Of him no worþ him non oþer red.
‘Sone,’ he seyd, ‘what schal y do,
Whenne ich þe haue þus forgo?
Who schal now weld after me
Mine londes, þat brod be?
A man icham swiþe in eld:
Dye ichil, bi godes scheld.’
Opon þat bodi he fel anon:
Reuþe þai hadden þer-of ichon,
Of his gret sorwe þat he made.
To his kniȝtes no þe les he sade,
366
And for he was a man so eld.
Fiftene ȝer weren agon
Þat he er in armes come.
‘Sir,’ seyd Gij þer anon,
‘Nim þi stede, & worþ þeron.
What wonder dede þe armes bere?
To ȝer more þou schust rest þe here.
Her ich ȝiue þe þi stede,
For þou ȝeue me þe mete at nede.
In chaumber þou schust ligge stille,
Oþer to chirche gon to bid godis wille.
Þi court ichil quite-cleym þe.
Ded ich wold raþer be,
Ar ich wold wiþ þe ete
At souper oþer at oþer mete.’
Gij went forþ fulleliche wiþalle:
Was him þer no nedes to duelle.
On ich side he seye come kniȝtes,
Burieys, and seriaunce redi to fiȝtes
Wiþ alle þat crie of þat cuntre:
Wiþ hem nomen no wold ben he.
Him no was þer nouȝt worþ to abide:
He priked his hors & gan to ride.
Into a forest he gan to go.
Oft his stede he wiþ-went þo:
Mani he wounded, & mani he slouȝ
Of kniȝtes þat wer gode y-nouȝ.
Gij ferd forþ swiþe wiþ-alle
Opon his stede, þat bar him snelle.
Þurch þe forest swiþe he rode.
Þerl him oȝein went wiþouten abode.
Michel sorwe he made, y-pliȝt,
For his sone awreke he no miȝt.
His sone anon biri he dede
In a chirche bifore þe auter in þat stede.
Alle þat day Gij forþ rod,
Alle what þe sonne adoun glod:
Of alle niȝt he no blan rideinge
Fort amorwe in þe daweinge,
So þat he to Loreyin com:
Þe cuntres he knewe anon.
Wel riȝt he ȝede to þat cite:
Ichon þer fond he,
Alle þe best þat weren þare:
For him þai had michel care.
When þai him hole & sounde y-seþ
Of his coming glad hij beþ.
Was him þer no nedes to duelle.
On ich side he seye come kniȝtes,
Burieys, and seriaunce redi to fiȝtes
Wiþ alle þat crie of þat cuntre:
Wiþ hem nomen no wold ben he.
Him no was þer nouȝt worþ to abide:
He priked his hors & gan to ride.
Into a forest he gan to go.
Oft his stede he wiþ-went þo:
Mani he wounded, & mani he slouȝ
Of kniȝtes þat wer gode y-nouȝ.
Gij ferd forþ swiþe wiþ-alle
Opon his stede, þat bar him snelle.
Þurch þe forest swiþe he rode.
Þerl him oȝein went wiþouten abode.
Michel sorwe he made, y-pliȝt,
For his sone awreke he no miȝt.
His sone anon biri he dede
In a chirche bifore þe auter in þat stede.
368
Alle what þe sonne adoun glod:
Of alle niȝt he no blan rideinge
Fort amorwe in þe daweinge,
So þat he to Loreyin com:
Þe cuntres he knewe anon.
Wel riȝt he ȝede to þat cite:
Ichon þer fond he,
Alle þe best þat weren þare:
For him þai had michel care.
When þai him hole & sounde y-seþ
Of his coming glad hij beþ.
Gij hem told þe soþe, y-wis,
Hou he fram þerl aschaped is.
Alle þai þonked god þo,
Þat deliuerd him of his wo.
Seþþen wold he nouȝt long duelle,
To his cuntre he wold snelle.
Gij of þe douke toke his leue,
Hou he fram þerl aschaped is.
Alle þai þonked god þo,
Þat deliuerd him of his wo.
Seþþen wold he nouȝt long duelle,
To his cuntre he wold snelle.
Ac he it him ȝaf wele vnneþe.
Anouȝ he him bede of siluer & gold,
Ac he þerof nouȝt nim nold.
To þerl Tirri he ȝede þo,
& þis wordes seyd him to:
‘Sir erl Tirri,’ seyd Gij,
‘Now ichil gon, sikerli,
Vnto mi cuntre into Inglond
(Þat way no may y nouȝt wiþstond),
Mine fader & min frendes to se:
Y not ȝif þai oliues be.
Seuen ȝer & more agon it is
Þat ich in þat cuntre was, y-wis.
Ȝif it bitide ani-þing sone
Þat þou haue wiþ me to don,
Be it in pes oþer in werre,
Wheþer it be ner or ferre,
370
Ichil come anon to þe,
Þat ich no fot hot com to þe
Al sone as ich þi sond y-se.
Þi wer we haue ouer-com,
& þou hast spoused þi loue.
Destrud we haue ȝour fon,
Erls, barouns mani on.
Þi lond we han brouȝt in pes:
No bestow neuer iuel at esse.
Þou art a kniȝt of miȝti dede:
Of þine fon þarf þe nouȝt drede.
Alle min estris of Inglond
Sende ichil to [þe bi] mi sond,
& þou schalt to me also:
Alle þine wille sende me to;
& ich me self wille com to þe
Sone so ich mi time may se.’
‘Felawe,’ quaþ Tirri, ‘gramerci.
Iuel biladde now am y.
Oft fram deþ þou hast me scheld,
& neuere no haddestow for me ȝeld.
Ȝif þou wilt fro me go,
Þou me sext neuer mo.
Al-so sone so it wite our fon,
Þat þou art fro me gon,
On ich side ous schal arise werre
Of Almeyns, Lombardes neye & ferre,
Þat ben Otus kinsmen;
For he was come of gret ken.
Þe king of Speyne his em is,
His soster haþ wedded þe douke Moralis.
Doukes, erls of gret pouste
His deþ wille þai wite me.
In wer & wo schal y be
Þer-while þe liue is in me.
372
Of wer no þurt ous stond no aye.
And ȝif þou here wiþ me bileue wold,
Anouȝ we haue of siluer & of gold,
Gode cites and castels strong,
Þe feirest and þe best of þis lond.
Wiþ douke Loer ichil be,
& alle Gormoise ichil ȝiue þe
Wiþ alle þe worþschip þat liþe þer-to
& ȝete an oþ ichil þe do
Þat neuere þe worþ of a pani
Ichil þer-of chalangij.’
‘Sir erl,’ quaþ Gij, ‘þer-of speke nouȝt:
Al idel þou hast me þer-of bisouȝt.
Gret wille ich haue to þat waye:
Y no lete it nouȝt, þer-fore to daye.
No were it for þe loue of mi leman,
Nold ich neuer wende þe fram,
Ac wiþ þe euer duelle ich wolde,
Þat neuer departi we ne scholde.
Gon ich mot, wille y so nille,
O-þink þe nouȝt, y may nouȝt duelle.’
Togider þai kisten hem þo,
At her departing þai wepen bo:
Boþe þai wepen bitterliche,
Þat folk hadde þerof pite miche.
Alle þe men þat þer were
Was for hem sori þere
At the departing of to feren:
Wel gode kniȝtes boþe þai weren.
Gij lepe on a mule ambling,
Bi þe way he rideþ sorweing.
Tirri bileft sorwe makeing,
& Gij his felawe bimeninge.
So miche sorwe he made day & niȝt,
No man miȝt tellen it, y ȝou pliȝt.
374
Til he com to þe se, wiþ-outen lesing.
Gode winde he haþ, & passeþ sone,
& come in-to Inglond mididone.
Now forþ to Warwik he is y-go,
King Aþelston þer he fond þo;
& when he was to Warwike com,
Wiþ ioie þai him vnder-fenge alle & some.
Þe king toȝeines him is y-go
Wiþ kniȝtes & burieys also,
For he him herd preyse so miche:
Þe king him loued, sikerliche,
And wiþ him soiournd sir Gij þe fre.
On a day at þe ches pleyden he:
Wiþ þat come þer þre men rideinde,
Of þe cuntre fre men heldinde:
To þe king þai seyd, ‘sir, vnder-stond:
Hard tidinges we bring þe an hond.
Bot ȝe sone take ȝeme þer-to,
Alle ȝour lond ȝe schul forgo.
Þer is comen opon þi lond
A best þat bringeþ it al to schond.
Out of Irlond it come:
To miche harm it haþ y-don.
It no leueþ man no wiman non,
Þat it no sleþ hem ichon
Bot sum þat aschaped beþ
Þurch chaunce and to þe cites.
It freteþ men & bestes also;
Riȝt for soþe y telle þe to,
Neuer nas best no so kene.
Gret heued it haþ & gastelich to sene:
His nek is greter þan a bole,
His bodi is swarter þan ani cole.
It is michel, & long, & griseliche,
Fram þe nouel vpward vnschepliche.
376
No wepen no may atame, y-wis.
As a somer it is brested bifore in þe brede
& swifter ernend þan ani stede.
He haþ clawes also a lyoun.
Men seyþ þat it is a dragoun.
Gret wenges he haþ wiþ to fle.
His schaft to telle alle ne mow we.
Þe bodi is gret toward þe teyle.
Swiche a best nas neuer, saunfeyle.
Þe teyle is gret & wel long:
In þe warld nis man so strong,
& were y-armed neuer so,
& he wiþ þe teyle smot him to,
Þat he no worþ ded anon:
No schuld he neuer ride no gon.’
When þe king haþ y-herd þis
Þat þe men him teld, y-wis,
An gode while he him bi-þouȝt,
Er þan þat he speke mouȝt.
‘Sir,’ quaþ Gij, ‘no care þou nouȝt:
Þer-of no haue þou no þouȝt.
Into Norþ-humberlond ichil wende,
& ȝif ich þat best may fende,
Ich him schal ouercome þurch godes miȝt;
For wiþ him ichil hold fiȝt.’
Þat þe men him teld, y-wis,
An gode while he him bi-þouȝt,
Er þan þat he speke mouȝt.
‘Sir,’ quaþ Gij, ‘no care þou nouȝt:
Þer-of no haue þou no þouȝt.
Into Norþ-humberlond ichil wende,
& ȝif ich þat best may fende,
Ich him schal ouercome þurch godes miȝt;
For wiþ him ichil hold fiȝt.’
‘Gij,’ quaþ þe king, ‘schaltow nouȝt so.
No wille ich þat þou al-on go.
An hundred kniȝtes schul wende wiþ þe,
Þat þou may þe sikerer be.’
Gij answerd anon riȝt,
‘Nold neuer god ful of miȝt
Þat for a best onlepi
Schuld so miche folk traueli.’
At þe king his leue he nam,
And hom to his in he cam.
His felawes he lete þer ichon:
Wiþ him most go neuer on
Bot Herhaud, þat was gode at nede,
& oþer to kniȝtes y-armed on stede.
So þai come þider on a day,
No wille ich þat þou al-on go.
An hundred kniȝtes schul wende wiþ þe,
Þat þou may þe sikerer be.’
Gij answerd anon riȝt,
‘Nold neuer god ful of miȝt
Þat for a best onlepi
Schuld so miche folk traueli.’
At þe king his leue he nam,
And hom to his in he cam.
378
Wiþ him most go neuer on
Bot Herhaud, þat was gode at nede,
& oþer to kniȝtes y-armed on stede.
& spired where þat best lay,
Gij armed him wel richeliche,
& seyd to his felawes hastiliche
Þat so hardi þer be non
O fot wiþ him for to gon.
Now is Gij to a launde y-go
Wher þe dragoun duelled þo.
Þo Gij him seye so griseli,
Of him no was he nouȝt al trusti.
Wiþ þe spere he him smot smertliche,
Þat was kerueand scharpeliche,
Þat alto schiueres it to-fleye;
Ac þe bodi com it nouȝt neye.
Þo he had smiten þat best so,
Wel heye he bar his heued þo,
Wiþ-went him, & lepe him to:
Him & his stede he feld bo.
Gij of þat strok astounded is:
Neuer hadde he non swiche, y-wis.
Up he stirt anon riȝt:
‘God,’ he seyd, ‘fader almiȝt,
Þat made þe day & niȝt also,
& for ous sinful þoldest wo,
& heldest Daniel fram þe lyoun,
Saue me fram þis foule dragoun.’
His swerd he drouȝ anon riȝt:
To him he lepe wiþ gret miȝt,
& smot him in þe heued schod
A wel gret strok wiþ-outen abod;
Ac no-þing sen þan was his dent:
Gij him held þan al schent,
380
Wiþ no wepen of stiel y-wrouȝt.
Bitvene hem was strong bateyle:
Aiþer gan oþer for to aseyle.
At asaut wiþ Gyes partinge
Þat wers he hadde at þat wendinge,
Þe best him neyed, & smot him
Wiþ his vp-coming so fel & grim,
Þat he a lappe rent out anon
Of his brini, þat alle his trust was on.
Now haþ Gij michel to done:
To a tre he went him sone;
Þer he wille bateyle abide
Of þat best, what schaunce so bitide.
Þat best bisides him it went,
& wiþ his teyle a strok him sent:
On þe scheld he smot him an heye,
Þat euen ato it to-fleye,
Al-so it were wiþ a swerd broun.
Well neye Gij him fel adoun.
Wiþ his taile he bigirt sir Gij,
& him þrest so strongli,
Þat þre ribbes he brac atvo;
& Gij wiþ strengþe smot him þo:
Atvo he him karf smartliche,
& deliuerd him seluen manliche.
Bi þe nauel he carf him ato,
& wiþ a gret pine deliuerd him fro.
Gij him perceyued in þat stounde
Þat neuer more þurch wepen y-grounde
Þat fram þe nauel vp-ward so
No slouȝ him man neuer mo.
Þo þat best hirt him feled,
Swiþe loude he grad & ȝeled,
Þat alle þat cuntre dined þere,
& als wide as men herd his bere,
382
Þat him no miȝt agrise þat it seye.
To a tre þan drouȝt him sir Gij,
& werd him wele for þe maistri.
His hauberk was to-rent tofore
As a clout þat were al to-tore.
Stalworþli sir Gij þer fauȝt,
Ac wele he seye it gained him nauȝt
To smite on the bodi bifore:
He no miȝt him sle no no man bore.
Also þat best him went aboute,
Gij him biþouȝt he was in doute:
Bineþen þe wenge he him smot:
Þurch þat bodi þat swerd bot.
Þurch þe bodi he him carf atvo:
Ded he fel to grounde þo.
He grad & ȝelled swiþe loude,
Þat it schilled into þe cloude.
Gij wiþ-drouȝ him þer-fro anon:
For stink þat of þe bodi come
Neye þat bodi he no durste.
After þat he ȝede him to reste.
When þat best þer ded lay,
For soþe y ȝou telle may,
Þritti fote meten it was
Þer it lay in þat plas.
Þe folk of þe cuntre it mette
Þer it lay wonderliche grete.
Þat heued he bar þe bodi fro,
And wiþ þat Gij forþ went þo.
He come to his feren, apliȝt,
Þat for him bad to god almiȝt.
To Warwike he is y-went,
Wiþ þat heued he made þe king present.
Þe king was bliþe & of glad chere
For þat he seye Gij hole & fere.
384
Mani man wondred þer-apon.
1
God graunt hem heuen blis to medeÞat herken to mi romaunce rede
Al of a gentil kniȝt:
Þe best bodi he was at nede
Þat euer miȝt bistriden stede,
& freest founde in fiȝt.
Þe word of him ful wide it ran,
Ouer al þis warld þe priis he wan
As man most of miȝt.
Balder bern was non in bi:
His name was hoten sir Gij
Of Warwike, wise & wiȝt.
2
Wiȝt he was, for soþe to say,& holden for priis in eueri play
As kniȝt of gret bounde.
Out of þis lond he went his way
Þurch mani diuers cuntray,
Þat was biȝond þe see.
Seþþen he com into Inglond,
& Aþelston þe king he fond,
Þat was boþe hende & fre.
For his loue, ich vnder-stond,
He slouȝ a dragoun in Norþhumberlond,
Ful fer in þe norþ cuntre.
3
He & Herhaud, for soþe to say,To Wallingforþ toke þe way,
Þat was his faders toun.
Þan was his fader, soþe to say,
Ded & birid in þe clay:
His air was sir Gioun.
386
Deden him omage & feute,
& com to his somoun.
He tok alle his faders lond,
& ȝaf it hende Herhaud in hond
Riȝt to his warisoun.
4
& alle þat hadde in his seruise beHe ȝaf hem gold & riche fe
Ful hendeliche on honde,
And seþþen he went wiþ his meyne
To þerl Rohaud, þat was so fre:
At Warwike he him fond.
Alle þan were þai glad & bliþe,
& þonked god a þousand siþe
Þat Gij was comen to lond.
Seþe on hunting þai gun ride
Wiþ kniȝtes fele & miche pride
As ȝe may vnderstond.
5
On a day sir Gij gan fond,& feir Felice he tok bi hond,
& seyd to þat bird so bliþe:
‘Ichaue,’ he seyd, ‘þurch godes sond
Won þe priis in mani lond
Of kniȝtes strong & stiþe,
& me is boden gret anour,
Kinges douhter & emperour
To haue to mi wiue.
Ac, swete Felice,’ he seyd þan,
‘Y no schal neuer spouse wiman
Whiles þou art oliue.’
6
Þan answerd þat swete wiȝt,& seyd oȝain to him ful riȝt:
‘Bi him þat schope mankinne,
388
Of erl, baroun, & mani a kniȝt.
For noþing wil þai blinne.
Ac Gij,’ sche seyd, ‘hende & fre,
Al mi loue is layd on þe:
Our loue schal neuer tvinne,
& bot ich haue þe to make
Oþer lord nil y non take,
For al þis warld to winne.’
7
Anon to hir þan answerd Gij,To fair Felice, þat sat him bi,
Þat semly was of siȝt:
‘Leman,’ he seyd, ‘gramerci!’
Wiþ ioie & wiþ melodi
He kist þat swete wiȝt.
Þan was he boþe glad & bliþe:
His ioie couþe he noman kiþe
For þat bird so briȝt.
He no was neuer þer-biforn
Half so bliþe seþe he was born
For nouȝt þat man him hiȝt.
8
On a day þerl gan fond,& fair Felice he tok bi hond,
& hir moder biside:
‘Douhter,’ he seyd, ‘now vnder-stond;
Why wiltow haue non husbond
Þat miȝt þe spouse wiþ pride?
Þou has ben desired of mani man,
& ȝete no wostow neuer nan
For nouȝt þat miȝt bitide.
Leue douhter hende and fre,
Telle me now, par charite,
What man þou wilt abide.’
390
9
Felice answerd oȝain:‘Fader,’ quaþ hye, ‘ichil þe sain
Wiþ wordes fre & hende.
Fader,’ quaþ sche, ‘ichil ful fayn
Tel þe at wordes tvain,
Bi him þat schop mankende,
Opon sir Gij, þat gentil kniȝt,
Y-wis, mi loue is alle aliȝt,
In warld where þat he wende;
& bot he spouse me, at o word,
Y no kepe neuer take lo[r]d
Day wiþouten ende.’
10
Þan seyd þerl wiþ wordes fre,‘Douhter, y-blisced mot þou be
Of godes mouþe to mede.
Ich hadde wele leuer þan al mi fe
Wiþ þan he wald spousy þe,
Þat douhti man of dede.
He haþ ben desired of mani woman,
& he haþ forsaken hem euerilcan,
Þat worþly were in wede.
Ac naþeles ichil to him fare,
For to witen of his answare,
Þat douhti man of dede.’
11
On a day, wiþouten lesing,Þerl him rode on dere hunting,
& sir Gij þe conquerour.
Als þai riden on her talking
Þai speken togider of mani þing,
Of leuedis briȝt in bour.
Þerl seyd to sir Gij hende & fre,
‘Tel me þe soþe, par charite,
Y pray þe par amoure:
392
Spouse ani wiman to wiue
Þat falleþ to þine anour?’
12
Sir Gij answerd & seyd þan,‘Bi him,’ he seyd, ‘þat þis warld wan,
To sauen al man-kende,
Bi nouȝt þat y tel can
Y nil neuer spouse wiman
Saue on is fre & hende.’
‘Sir,’ quaþ þerl, ‘listen nov to me:
Y haue a douhter briȝt on ble;
Y pray þe, leue frende,
To wiue wiltow hir vnderstond?
Y schal þe sese in al mi lond,
To hold wiþ-outen ende.’
13
‘Gramerci!’ seyd Gij anon;‘So help me Crist & seyn Ion,
And y schuld spouse a wiue
Ich hadde leuer hir bodi alon
Than winnen al þis warldes won
Wiþ ani woman oliue.’
Þan seyd þerl, ‘gramerci!’
& in his armes he kist sir Gij,
& þonked him mani a siþe.
‘Sir Gij,’ he seyd, ‘þou art mi frende:
Now þou wilt spouse mi dohter hende
Was y neuer are so bliþe.
14
Ac certes,’ seyd þerl so fre,‘Sir Gij, ȝif þou wilt trowe me
No lenger þou no schalt abide:
Now for fourteniȝt it schal be
Þe bridal hold wiþ gamen & gle
At Warwike in þat tyde.’
394
His joie couþe he no man kiþe.
To his ostel he gan ride.
& þo Gij com hom to his frende,
He schuld spouse his douhter hende
He teld Herhaud þat tide.
15
Þerl Rouhaud as swiþe dede sendeAfter lordinges fer & hende
Þat pris wel told in tour.
When þe time was comen to þende
To chirche wel feir gun þai wende
Wiþ mirþe & michel anour.
Miche semly folk was gadred þare
Of erls, barouns lasse & mare,
& leuedis briȝt in bour.
Þan spoused sir Gij þat day
Fair Felice, þat miri may,
Wiþ ioie & gre[t] vigour.
16
When he hadde spoused þat swete wiȝtÞe fest lasted a fourtenniȝt,
Þat frely folk in fere
Wiþ erl, baroun, & mani a kniȝt,
And mani a leuedy fair & briȝt,
Þe best in lond þat were.
Þer wer ȝiftes for þe nones,
Gold, & siluer, & precious stones,
& druries riche & dere.
Þer was mirþe & melody,
And al maner menstracie
As ȝe may forþeward here.
17
Þer was trumpes & tabour,Fiþel, croude, & harpour,
Her craftes for to kiþe,
396
Minstrels of mouþe, & mani dysour,
To glade þo bernes bliþe.
Þer nis no tong may telle in tale
Þe ioie þat was at þat bridale
Wiþ menske & mirþe to miþe;
For þer was al maner of gle
Þat hert miȝt þinke oþer eyȝe se
As ȝe may list & liþe.
18
Herls, barouns hende & fre,Þat þer war gadred of mani cuntre,
Þat worþliche were in wede,
Þai ȝouen glewemen for her gle
Robes riche, gold, & fe:
Her ȝiftes were nouȝt gnede.
On þe fiften day ful ȝare
Þai toke her leue for to fare,
& þonked hem her gode dede.
Þan hadde Gij, þat gentil kniȝt,
Feliis to his wil day & niȝt
In gest al-so we rede.
19
When Gij hadde spoused þat hendy flour,Fair Feliis, so briȝt in bour,
Þat was him leue & dere,
Y-wis, in Warwike in þat tour
Fiften days wiþ honour
Wiþ ioie togider þai were.
So it bifel þat first niȝt
Þat he neyȝed þat swete wiȝt
A child þai geten y-fere,
& seþþen wiþ sorwe & sikeing sare
Her ioie turned hem into care
As ye may forward here.
398
20
Þan was sir Gij of gret renoun& holden lord of mani a toun
As prince proude in pride;
Þat erl Rohaut & sir Gyoun,
In fretþe to fel þe dere adoun,
On hunting þai gun ride.
It bi-fel opon a somers day
Þat sir Gij at Warwike lay
(In herd is nouȝt to hide);
At niȝt, in tale as it is told,
To bedde went þe bernes bold
Bi time, to rest þat tide.
21
To a turet sir Gij is went,& biheld þat firmament,
Þat thicke wiþ steres stode.
On Iesu omnipotent,
Þat alle his honour hadde him lent,
He þouȝt wiþ dreri mode;
Hou he hadde euer ben strong werrour,
For Iesu loue, our saueour,
Neuer no dede he gode.
Mani man he hadde slayn wiþ wrong.
‘Allas, allas!’ it was his song:
For sorwe he ȝede ner wode.
22
‘Allas,’ he seyd, ‘þat y was born:Bodi & soule icham forlorn.
Of blis icham al bare.
For neuer in al mi liif biforn
For him þat bar þe croun of þorn
Gode dede dede y nare;
Bot wer & wo ichaue wrouȝt,
& mani a man to grounde y-brouȝt:
Þat rewes me ful sare.
400
Barfot to mi liues ende,
To bid mi mete wiþ care.’
23
As Gij stode þus in tour alonIn hert him was ful wo bigon:
‘Allas!’ it was his song.
Þan com Feliis sone anon,
& herd him make rewely mon
Wiþ sorwe & care among.
‘Leman,’ sche seyd, ‘what is þi þouȝt?
Whi artow þus in sorwe brouȝt?
Meþenke þi pain wel strong.
Hastow ouȝt herd of me bot gode,
Þat þou makes þus dreri mode?
Y-wis, þou hast gret wrong.’
24
‘Leman,’ seyd Gij oȝain,‘Ichil þe telle þe soþe ful fain
Whi icham brouȝt to grounde.
Seþþen y þe seyȝe first wiþ ayn
(“Allas þe while,” y may sayn)
Þi loue me haþ so y-bounde,
Þat neuer seþþen no dede y gode,
Bot in wer schadde mannes blode
Wiþ mani a griseli wounde.
Now may me rewe al mi liue.
That euer was y born o wiue,
Wayle-way þat stounde!
25
Ac ȝif ich hadde don half þe dedeFor him þat on rode gan blede
Wiþ grimly woundes sare,
In heuene he wald haue quit mi mede,
In joie to won wiþ angels wede
Euer-more wiþ-outen care.
402
For his loue dede y neuer nouȝt.
Iesu amende mi fare!
Þerfore ich wot þat icham lorn:
Allas þe time þat y was born!
Of blis icham al bare.
26
Bot god is curteys & hende,& so dere he haþ bouȝt mankende,
For noþing wil hem lete.
For his loue ichil now wende
Barfot to mi liues ende,
Mine sinnes for to bete,
Þat whore so y lye aniȝt
Y schal neuer be seyn wiþ siȝt
Bi way no bi strete.
Of alle þe dedes y may do wel
God graunt þe, lef, þat haluendel
And Marie, his moder swete.’
27
Þan stode þat hende leuedi stille,& in hir hert hir liked ille,
& gan to wepe anon.
‘Leman,’ sche seyd, ‘what is þi wille?
Y-wis, þi speche wil me spille:
Y not what y may don.
Y wot þou hast in sum cuntre
Spoused anoþer woman þan me,
Þat þou wilt to hir gon.
& now þou wilt fro me fare,
Allas, allas, now comeþ mi care:
For sorwe ichil me slon.
28
For wer & wo þatow hast wrouȝt,God þat al mankende haþ bouȝt
So curteys he is & hende,
404
& þan þe þarf dout riȝt nouȝt
Oȝaines þe foule fende.
Chirches & abbays þou miȝt make
Þat schal pray for þi sake
To him þat schope mankende:
Hastow no nede to go me fro,
Saue þou miȝt þi soule fram wo
In joie wiþouten ende.’
29
‘Leue leman,’ þan seyd sir Gij,‘Lete ben alle þis reweful cri:
It is nouȝt worþ þi tale.
For mani a bern & kniȝt hardi
Ich haue y-sleyn, sikerly,
& strued cites fale,
& for ich haue destrued mankin
Y schal walk for mi sinne
Barfot bi doun & dale.
Þat ich haue wiþ mi bodi wrouȝt
Wiþ mi bodi it schal be bouȝt,
To bote me of þat bale.
30
Leman,’ he seyd, ‘par charite,Astow art boþe hende & fre,
O þing y þe pray:
Loke þou make no sorwe for me,
Bot hold þe stille astow may be
Til to-morwe at day.
Gret wele þi fader, þat is so hende,
& þi moder, & al þi frende
Bi sond as y þe say.
Grete wele Herhaud, y þe biseche.
Leman, god y þe biteche:
Y wil fare forþ in mi way.
406
31
Leman, y warn þe biforn,Wiþ a knaue child þou art y-corn,
Þat douhti beþ of dede.
For him þat bar þe croun of þorn
Þerfore as sone as it is born
Pray Herhaud wiȝt in wede
He teche mi sone as he wele can
Al þe þewes of gentil man,
& helpe him at his nede;
For he is boþe gode & hende,
& euer he haþ ben trewe & kende:
God quite him his mede!
32
Leman,’ he seyd, ‘haue here mi brond,& take mi sone it in his hond,
Astow art hende & fre!
He may þer-wiþ, ich vnder-stond,
Winne þe priis in eueri lond;
For better may non be.
Leman,’ he seyd, ‘haue now gode day:
Ichil fare forþ in mi way,
& wende in mi jurne.’
Þai kist hem in armes tvo,
& boþe þai fel aswon þo.
Gret diol it was to se.
33
Gret sorwe þai made at her parting,& kist hem wiþ eyȝen wepeing:
Bi þe hond sche gan him reche.
‘Leman,’ sche seyd, ‘haue here þis ring,
For Iesus loue heuen-king
A word y þe biseche:
When þou ert in fer cuntre
Loke heron, & þenk on me,
& god y þe biteche.’
408
Wepeand wiþ eyȝen to
Wiþouten more speche.
34
Now is Gij fram Warwike fare,Vnto þe se he went ful ȝare,
& passed ouer þe flod.
Þe leuedy bileft at hom in care
Wiþ sorwe, & wo, & sikeing sare:
Wel drery was hir mode.
‘Allas, allas!’ it was hir song:
Hir here sche drouȝ, hir hond sche wrong,
Hir fingres brast o blode.
Al þat niȝt til it was day
Hir song it was ‘wayleway’:
For sorwe sche ȝede ner wode.
35
Hir lordes swerd sche drouȝ biforn,& þouȝt haue slain hirself for sorn
Wiþouten more delay.
To sle hirseluen, er þe child wer born,
Sche þouȝt hir soule it wer forlorn
Euermore at domesday,
& þat hir fader, hir frendes ichon
Schuld seyn hir lord it hadde y-don,
And were so fled oway.
Þerfore sche dede his swerd oȝain,
Elles for sorwe sche hadde hir slain,
In gest as y ȝou say.
410
36
Arliche amorwe when it was dayTo chaumber, þer hir fader lay,
Sche com wringand hir hond.
‘Fader,’ sche seyd, ‘ichil þe say
Mi lord is went fro me his way,
In pilgrimage to fond.
He will passe ouer þe se,
Schal he neuer com to me
Oȝain into Inglond.’
For sorwe þat sche hadde þat stounde
Aswon sche fel adoun to grounde:
O fot no miȝt sche stonde.
37
‘Douhter,’ seyd hir fader, ‘lat be.Y trowe nouȝt þat sir Gij þe fre
Is þus fram þe fare.
Y-wis, he nis nouȝt passed þe se:
He ne doþ nouȝt bot for to fond þe,
Hou trewe of hert þou ware.’
‘Nay, sir,’ sche seyd, ‘so god me spede,
He is walked in pouer wede,
To beggen his mete wiþ care.
& þer-fore now singen y may,
“Allas þe time & wayleway
Þat mi moder me bare.”’
38
Þerl ros vp with sikeing sare,For sir Gij was fram him fare:
In hert him was ful wo,
& alle his frendes lesse & mare
For sir Gij þai hadde gret care,
For he was went hem fro.
412
Wiþin þe cite & wiþout,
Þer he was won to go.
& when þai founde him nouȝt þat day
Þere was mani a wayleway,
Wrin-gand her hondes tvo.
39
And when Gij was fram hem gonHerhaud, & his frendes ichon,
& oþer barouns him by
To þerl Rohaut þai seyden anon,
‘Þe best rede þat we can don,
Smertliche & hastily
Messangers we schul now sende
Ouer alle þis lond fer & hende,
To seche mi lord sir Gij.
& ȝif he be nouȝt in þis lond
He is in Loreyn, ich vnderstond,
Wiþ his broþer Tirry.’
40
Menssangers anon þai sendeOuer al þis lond fer & hende
Fram Londen in-to Louþe,
Ouer al biȝonde Humber & Trent,
& est & west þurch-out al Kent
To þe hauen of Portesmouthe.
Þai souȝt him ouer al vp & doun,
Ouer alle þe lond in euerich toun
Bi costes þat wer couþe,
& seþþen to Warwike þai gan wende,
& seyd þai miȝt him no-whar fende
Bi norþ no bi souþe.
41
Herhaud was wele vnder-stondÞat Gij was fer in vncouþe lond.
Ful hende he was & fre:
414
To seche his lord he wald fond
Vnto þe Grekis see.
To þerl Rohaut he seyd anon
To seche his lord he most gon
Þurch alle Christiante.
When þerl seye him þus y-diȝt,
‘Þou art,’ he seyd, ‘a trewe kniȝt:
Y-blisced mot þou be.’
42
Þo went Herhaud so trewe in taleTo seche his lord in londes fale:
For noþing he nold abide.
He ȝede ouer alle bi doun & dale
To eueri court & kinges sale
Bi mani a lond side,
Þurch Normondye and alle Speyne,
Into Fraunce & þurch Breteyne:
He ȝede boþe fer & wide
Þurch Lorain & þurch Lombardye,
& neuer no herd he telle of Gij
For nouȝt þat miȝt bitide.
43
When Herhaud had souȝt him fer and hende,& he no miȝt him no-whar fende,
Noiþer bi se no sond,
Into Inglond he gan wende,
& þerl Rohaut & al his frende
At Warwike he hem fond,
416
& þat he no miȝt finde him nouȝt
In non skinnes lond.
Mani a moder child þat day
Wepe & gan say, ‘waileway,’
Wel sore wringand her hond.
44
Now herken, & ȝe may hereIn gest, ȝif ȝe wil listen & lere,
Hou Gij as pilgrim ȝede.
He welke about wiþ glad chere
Þurch mani londes fer & nere,
Þer god him wald spede.
First he went to Jerusalem,
& seþþen he went to Bedlem
Þurch mani an vncouþe þede.
Ȝete he biþouȝt him seþþen þo
For to sechen halwen mo,
To winne him heuen mede.
45
Þo he went his pilgrimageToward þe court of Antiage,
Bi þis half þat cite
He mett a man of fair parage:
Y-comen he was of heyȝe linage,
& of kin fair & fre.
Michel he was of bodi y-piȝt,
A man he semed of michel miȝt
& of gret bounte,
Wiþ white-hore heued & berd y-blowe,
As white as ani driuen snowe:
Gret sorwe þan made he.
46
So gret sorwe þer he made,Sir Gij of him rewþe hade.
He gan to wepe so sare,
418
& curssed þe time þat he was bore:
Wel diolful was his fare.
More sorwe made neuer man.
Gij stode & loked on him þan,
& hadde of him gret care.
He seyd, ‘allas & walewo!
Al mi joie it is ago.
Of blis icham al bare.’
47
‘Gode man, what artow,’ seyd Gij,‘Þat makest þus þis reweful cri
& þus sorweful mone?
Meþenke, for þe icham sori,
For þat þine hert is þus drery,
Þi ioie is fro þe gon.
Telle me þe soþe, y pray þe
For godes loue in trinite,
Þat þis world haþ in won;
For Iesu is of so michel miȝt,
He may make þine hert liȝt,
& þou no[s]t neuer hou son.’
48
‘Gode man,’ seyd þe pilgrim,‘Þou hast me frained bi god þin
To telle þe of mi fare,
And alle þe soþ wiþ-outen les
Ichil þe telle, hou it wes,
Of blis hou icham bare.
So michel sorwe is on me steke,
Þat min hert it wil to-breke
Wiþ sorwe & sikeing sare.
Forlorn ich haue al mi blis:
Y no schal neuer haue joie, y-wis.
In erþe y wald y ware.
420
49
A man y was of state sum stounde,& holden a lord of gret mounde,
& erl of al Durras.
Fair sones ich hadde fiftene,
& alle were kniȝtes stout & kene.
Men cleped me þerl Ionas.
Y trowe in þis warld is man non,
Y-wis, þat is so wo-bi-gon,
Seþþen þe world made was;
For alle min sones ich haue forlorn:
Better berns were non born.
Þerfore y sing, “allas!”
50
For bliþe worþ y neuer more:Alle mi sones ich haue forlore
Þurch a batayl vnride,
Þurch Sarrazins þat fel wore:
To Ierusalem þai com ful ȝore
To rob & reue wiþ pride,
& we toke our ost anon,
Oȝaines hem we gun gon,
Bateyl of hem to abide.
Þe acountre of hem was so strong,
Þat mani dyed þer-among,
Or we wald rest þat tide.
51
Þurch mi fiftene soneWere þe geauntes ouer-come,
& driuen doun to grounde.
Fiftene amirals þer wer nome:
Þe king gan fle wiþ alle his trome
For drede of ous þat stounde.
Ich & mi sones, wiþouten lesing,
Out of þat lond we driuen þe king,
And his men ȝaf dedli wounde.
422
A lord he was of gret honour,
& man of michel mounde.
52
Þan dede we wel-gret foly:We suwed him wiþ maistrie
Into his owhen lond.
Into Alisaundre þai fleye owy:
Þe cuntre ros vp wiþ a cri,
To help her king anhond.
In a brom feld þer wer hidde
Þre hundred Sarrazins wele y-schridde
Wiþ helme & grimly brond.
Out of þat brom þai lepen anon,
& bilapped ous euer-ichon,
& drof ous alle to schond.
53
Þai hewen at ous wiþ michel hete,& we leyd on hem dintes grete,
& slouwen of her ferred.
& ar þat we were alle y-nome
Mani of hem were ouercome,
Ded wounded vnder wede.
Þai were to mani & we to fewe:
Al our armour þai to-hewe,
& stiked vnder ous our stede.
Ȝete we fouȝten afot long,
Til swerdes brosten þat were strong,
& þan ȝeld we ous for nede.
54
To þe king we ȝolden ous al & someÞat we miȝt to raunsom come,
To saue our liues ichon.
Into Alisaunder he ladde ous þo,
& into his prisoun dede ous do,
Was maked of lime & ston.
424
For hunger we wende our liues lete:
Wel wo was ous bigon.
So were we þer alle þat ȝer
Wiþ michel sorwe boþe y-fere,
Þat socour com ous non.
55
So it bifel þat riche SoudanMade a fest of mani a man,
Of þritti kinges bi tale.
King Triamour com to court þo,
& Fabour, his sone, dede also,
Wiþ kniȝtes mani & fale.
Þe þridde day of þat fest,
Þat was so riche & so honest,
So derlich diȝt in sale—
After þat fest, þat riche was,
Þer bifel a wonder cas,
Wher-þurch ros michel bale.
56
Þat riche Soudan hadde a soneÞat was y-hold a doughti gome:
Sadok was his name.
Þe kinges sone Fabour he cleped him to:
Into his chaumber þai gun go,
Þo knightes boþe y-same.
Sadok gan to Fabour sayn
Ȝif he wald ate ches playn,
& held oȝain him game;
& he answerd in gode maner
He wald play wiþ him y-fere,
Wiþ-outen ani blame.
57
Ate ches þai sett hem to playn,Þo hendy kniȝtes boþe tvayn,
Þat egre were of siȝt:
426
Wiþ strong wretþe þai gan to grame,
Þo gomes michel of miȝt.
Þurch a chek Fabour seyd, for soþ,
Sadok in hert wex wroþ,
& missayd him anon riȝt,
& clep[e]d him ‘fiz a putayn,’
& smot him wiþ miȝt and main,
Wher-þurch ros michel fiȝt.
58
Wiþ a roke he brac his heued þan,Þat þe blod biforn out span
In þat ich place.
‘Sadok,’ seyd þan Fabour,
‘Þou dost me gret deshonour
Þat þou me manace.
Nar þou mi lordes sone were,
Þou schuldest dye riȝt now here:
Schustow neuer hennes passe.’
Sadok stirt vp to Fabour,
& cleped him anon ‘vile traitour,’
& smot him in the face.
59
Wiþ his fest he smot him þore,Þat Fabour was agreued sore,
& stirt vp in þat stounde.
Þe cheker he hent vp fot hot,
And Sadok in þe heued he smot,
Þat he fel ded to grounde.
His fader sone he haþ y-teld
Þat he haþ the Soudan sone aqueld,
& ȝouen him deþes wounde.
428
Out of þe lond þai gun driue
For ferd þai were y-founde.
60
When it was þe Soudan teld,Þat his sone was aqueld,
& brouȝt of his liif dawe,
On al maner he him biþouȝt
Hou þat he him wreke mouȝt
Þurch iugement of lawe.
After þe king he sent an heyȝe,
To defende him of þat felonie,
Þat he his sone haþ y-slawe;
& bot he wald com anon
Wiþ strengþe he schuld on him gon,
Wiþ wilde hors don him drawe.
61
King Triamour com to court þo,& Fabour, his sone, dede also,
To þe Soudans parlement.
When þai bi-forn him comen beþ
Þai were adouted of her deþ:
Her liues þai wende haue spent;
For þe Soudan cleped hem fot hot,
& his sones deþ hem atwot,
& seyd þai were alle schent.
430
In strong perile he schuld hem diȝt
And to her iugement.
62
Þan dede he com forþ a Sarrazine,Haue he Cristes curs & mine
Wiþ boke & eke wiþ belle.
Out of Egypt he was y-come,
Michel & griselich was þat gome
Wiþ ani god man to duelle.
He is so michel & vnrede,
Of his siȝt a man may drede,
Wiþ tong as y þe telle.
As blac he is as brodes brend:
He semes as it were a fende,
Þat comen were out of helle.
63
For he is so michel of bodi y-piȝt,Oȝains him tvelue men haue no miȝt,
Ben þai neuer so strong;
For he is four fot, sikerly,
More þan ani man stont him bi:
So wonderliche he is long.
Ȝif king Triamour þat þer was
Miȝt fenden him in playn place
Of þat michel wrong,
Þan is þat vile glotoun
Made þe Soudans champioun,
Batayl of him to fong.
64
King Triamour answerd þanTo þat riche Soudan
In þat ich stounde
Þat he wald defende him wele y-nouȝ
Þat he neuer his sone slouȝ,
No ȝaf him dedli wounde.
432
(Þer durst no man fiȝt wiþ him:
So grille he was on grounde),
Þan asked he respite til a day,
To finde anoþer ȝif he may
Oȝaines him durst founde.
65
Þan hadde he respite al þat ȝere& fourti days: so was þe maner
Þurch lawe was þan in lond,
Ȝif him seluen durst nouȝt fiȝt
Finde anoþer ȝif he miȝt
Oȝaines him durst stond.
Þe king as swiþe hom is went,
Ouer alle his lond anon he sent
After erl, baroun, and bond,
& asked ȝif ani wer so bold:
Þriddendel his lond haue he schold
Þe batayl durst take an hond.
66
Ac for nouȝt þat he hot miȝtÞer was non durst take þe fiȝt
Wiþ þe geaunt for his sake.
Þan was ich out of prisoun nome,
Biforn him he dede me come,
Conseyl of me to take,
And asked me at worde fewe
Ȝif y wist oþer y-knewe
A man so miȝti of strake
Þat for him durst take þe fiȝt:
Were he buriays oþer kniȝt,
Riche prince he wald him make.
67
& ȝif y miȝt ani fendeHe wald make me riche & al mi kende,
& ȝif me gret honour,
434
To helden þriddendel his lond
Wiþ cite, toun, & tour.
Ac ichim answerd þan
In alle þis warld was þer [no] man
To fiȝt wiþ þat traitour,
Bot ȝif it Gij of Warwike were,
Or Herhaud of Ardern, his fere:
‘In warld þai bere þe flour.’
68
When þe king herd þoÞat y spac of þo kniȝtes to,
Ful bliþe he was of chere.
He kist me, so glad he was.
‘Merci,’ he seyd, ‘erl Ionas!
Þou art me leue & dere.
Ȝif ich hadde here sir Gij,
Or Herhaud, þat is so hardi,
Of þe maistri siker y were.
& þou miȝtest bring me her on,
Þe & thine sones y schal lete gon
Fram prisoun quite & skere.’
69
Bi mi lay he dede me swereÞat y schuld trewelich bode bere
To þo kniȝtes so hende,
& seyd to me as swiþe anon
Wiþ michel sorwe he schuld me slon
Bot ichem miȝt fende,
436
& ichim graunt in þat þrawe,
To bring hem out of bende.
Out of þis lond y went þo
Wiþ michel care & michel wo:
Y nist wider to wende.
70
Y souȝt hem into the lond of Coyne,Into Calaber, & into Sessoyne,
& fro þennes into Almayne,
In Tuskan & in Lombardye,
In Fraunce & in Normondye,
Into þe lond of Speyne,
In Braban, in Poil, & in Bars
& in-to kinges lond of Tars,
& þurch al Aquitayne,
In Cisil, in Hungri, & in Ragoun,
In Romayne, Borgoine, & Gascoine,
& þurch-out al Breteyne.
71
& into Inglond wenden y gan,& asked þer mani a man,
Boþe ȝong & old,
& in Warwike þat cite,
Þer he was lord of þat cuntre,
For to hauen in wold;
Ac y no fond non lite no miche
Þat couþe telle me sikerliche
Of þo to kniȝtes bold,
Wher y schold Gij no Herhaud fende
In no lond fer no hende:
Þerfore min hert is cold.
438
72
For ich haue þe king mi trewþe y-pliȝtÞat y schal bring Gij now riȝt
Ȝif ich oliues be.
& ȝiue y bring him nouȝt anon
Wele ich wot he wil me slon:
Þer-fore wel wo is me.
& min sones he schal don hong,
& to-drawe wiþ michel wrong,
Þo kniȝtes hende & fre.
& ȝif þai dye gret harm it is.
For hem ich haue swiche sorwe, y-wis;
Mine hert wil breken on þre.’
73
‘God man,’ seyd Gij, ‘listen me now.For þine sones gret sorwe hastow,
& no wonder it nis.
When þou Gij & Herhaud hast souȝt,
& þou no may hem finde nouȝt,
Þi care is michel, y-wis.
Þurch hem þine hope was to go fre,
& þi sones al forþ wiþ þe,
Þurch godes help & his.
440
For douhti man y was told
& holden of gret priis.
74
Þurch godes helpe, our driȝt(He be min help, & ȝiue me miȝt,
& leue me wele to spede!),
& for Gyes loue & Herhaud also,
Þat þou hast souȝt wiþ michel wo,
Þat douhti were of dede,
Batayl ichil now for þe fong
Oȝain þe geaunt, þat is so strong,
Þou seyst is so vnrede.
& þei he be þe fende out-riȝt,
Y schal for þe take þe fiȝt,
& help þe at þis nede.’
75
When þerl herd him speke so,Þat he wald batayl fong for him þo,
He biheld fot & heued:
Michel he was of bodi piȝt,
A man he semed of michel miȝt,
Ac pouerliche he was biweued;
Wiþ a long berd his neb was growe.
Miche wo him þought he hadde y-drowe.
He wende his wit were reued,
For he seyd he wald as ȝern
Fiȝt wiþ þat geaunt stern
Bot ȝif he hadde him preued.
76
‘God man,’ þan seyd he,‘God al-miȝten for-ȝeld it þe,
Þat is so michel of miȝt,
Þatow wost batayl for me fong
Oȝain þe geaunt, þat is so strong.
Þou knowest him nouȝt, y pliȝt.
442
Sternliche wiþ his eyȝen blake,
So grim he is of siȝt,
Wastow neuer so bold in al þi teime,
Þatow durst batayl of him nim,
No hold oȝaines him fiȝt.’
77
‘Gode man,’ seyd Gij, ‘lat be þat þouȝt,For swiche wordes help ous nouȝt
Oȝain þat schrewe qued.
Mani haþ loked me opon
Wiþ wicked wil, mani on
Þat wald han had min hed;
& þei no fled y neuer ȝete,
No neuer for ferd batayl lete
For noman þat brac bred.
& þei he be þe deuels rote,
Y schal nouȝt fle him a fot,
Bi him þat suffred ded.’
78
‘Leue sir,’ þan seyd he,‘God of heuen forȝeld it te:
Þine wordes er ful swete.’
For ioie he hadde in hert þat stounde
On knes he fel adoun to grounde,
& kist sir Gyes fet.
Gij tok him vp in armes to.
Into Alisaunder þai gun go,
Wiþ þe king to mete;
& when þai com in-to þe tour
Bifor þe king sir Triamour,
Wel fair þai gun him grete.
79
And when he seye þerl Ionas,Unneþe he knewe him in þe fas:
So chaunged was his ble.
444
‘Telle me now wiþ-outen lesing,
Gij & Herhaud where ben he?’
Þerl answerd, & siked sore,
‘Gij no Herhaud sestow no more;
For soþe y telle þe,
For hem ich haue in Inglond ben,
& y no miȝt hem no-whar sen:
Þer-fore wel wo is me.
80
Ac þe lond folk teld me in specheÞat Gij was gon halwen to seche
Wel fer in vncouþe lond,
& Herhaud after him is went
For to seche him, verrament:
Noiþer of hem y no fond,
Ac þis man ich haue brouȝt to þe
Þat haþ ben man of gret bounte,
Þat wele dar take on hond
Oȝain þe geaunt þat is so fel,
Al for to fende þe ful wel:
For drede wil he nouȝt wond.’
81
‘Erl Ionas,’ seyd þe king,‘Loke wiþ him be no feynting,
Þat y deseyued be.
& ȝif þer be, þou schalt anon
Be honged & þi sones ichon.’
‘Y graunt, sir,’ þan seyd he.
Þe king cleped sir Gyoun,
& asked him at schort resoun,
‘What is þy name? tel me.’
Sir Gij answerd to þe king,
‘Youn,’ he said, ‘wiþ-outen lesing,
Men clepeþ me in mi cuntre.’
446
82
‘What cuntre artow?’ þe king sede.‘Of Inglond, so god me rede:
Þerin ich was y-bore.’
‘Owe,’ seyd þe king, ‘artow Inglis kniȝt,
Þan schuld y þurch skil and riȝt
Hate þe euer more.
Knewe þou nouȝt þe gode Gij
Or Herhaud þat was so hardi?
Tel me þe soþe bifore.
Wele ouȝt ich be Gyes foman:
He slouȝ mi broþer Helmadan;
Þurch him icham forlore.
83
Min em he slouȝ, þe riche Soudan,Ate mete among ous euerilkan.
Seyȝe y neuer man so bigin:
Y seyȝe hou he his heued of smot,
& bar it oway wiþ him fot hot,
Maugre þat was þer-inne.
After him we driuen þo,
Þe deuel halp him þennes to go:
Y trowe he is of his kinne.
Mahoun ȝaf þat þou wer he!
Ful siker miȝt y þan be
Þe maistri for to winne.’
84
Sir Gij answerd to þe king,‘Wel wele y knowe, wiþouten lesing,
Herhaud, so god me rede.
& ȝif þou haddest her on here,
Of þe maistri siker þou were,
Þe bateyl for to bede.’
448
‘Whi artow þus iuel y-diȝt
And in þus pouer wede?
A feble lord þou seruest, so þenkeþ me,
Or oway he haþ driuen þe
For sum iuel dede.’
85
‘Nay, sir, for god,’ quaþ Gij,‘A wel gode lord [ar] þan serue[d] y:
Wiþ him was no blame.
Wel michel honour he me dede,
& gret worþschipe in eueri stede,
& sore ich haue him grame[d],
& þer-fore icham þus y-diȝt,
To cri him merci day & niȝt,
Til we ben frendes same.
& mi lord & y frende be,
Ichil wende hom to mi cuntre,
& liue wiþ ioie & game.’
86
‘Frende Youn,’ seyd þe king,‘Wiltow fiȝt for mi þing?
Oþer y schal anoþer puruay.’
‘Þerfor com ich hider,’ quaþ Gij,
‘Þurch Godes help & our leuedi
As wele as y may.
Bot first þerl Ionas & his sones
Schal be deliuerd out of prisones
Þis ich selue day.’
Þe king answerd, ‘y graunt þe.
Mahoun he mot þine he[l]p be,
Þat is mi lord verray.’
450
87
‘Nay,’ seyd Gij, ‘bot Marie sone:He mot me to help come,
For Mahoun is worþ nouȝt.’
‘Frende Youn,’ seyd þe king,
‘Under-stond now mi teling,
Al what ich haue y-þouȝt.
Ȝif þat þou may ouercom þe fiȝt,
& defende me wiþ riȝt
(Þe wrong is on me souȝt),
So michel y schal for þe do,
Þat men schal speke þer-of euer mo
As wide as þis wald is wrouȝt.
88
Alle þe men þat in my prisoun beÞai schul be deliuerd for loue of þe
Þat Cristen men be told.
Fram henne to Ynde þat cite
Quite-claym þai schul go fre
Boþe ȝong and old.
And so gode pes y schal festen anon,
Þat Cristen men schul comen & gon
To her owhen wille in wold.’
‘Gramerci,’ þan seyd sir Gij.
‘Þat is a fair ȝift, sikerly.
God leue þe it wele to hold.’
89
Þe king dede make a baþe anon riȝt,For to baþe Gij & better diȝt:
In silk he wald him schrede.
452
‘Swiche cloþes non kepe y,
Also god me rede,
To were cloþes gold-bi-go
(For y was neuer wont þerto)
No non so worþliche wede.
Mete and drink anouȝ ȝiue me,
& riche cloþes lat þou be:
Y kepe non swiche prede.
90
& when þe time com to þende,Þat þai schuld to court wende,
Þer sembled a fair ferred.
King Triamour maked him ȝare þo,
And Fabour his sone dede also,
Wiþ kniȝtes stiþe on stede.
To court ward þan went he,
To Espire, þat riche cite,
Wiþ joie & michel prede.
To þe Soudan þai went on heye
Wiþ wel gret cheualrie,
Bateyle for to bede.
91
Gij was ful wele in armes diȝtWiþ helme, & plate, & brini briȝt,
Þe best þat euer ware.
Þe hauberk he hadde was renis,
Þat was king Clarels, y-wis,
In Ierusalem when he was þare.
A þef stale it in þat stede,
& oway þerwiþ him dede:
To heþenesse he it bare.
King Triamours elders it bouȝt,
& in her hord house þai þouȝt
To hold it euer mare.
454
92
Sir Gij þai toke it in þat plas.Þritti winter afrayd it nas:
Ful clere it was of mayle,
As briȝt as ani siluer it was:
Þe halle schon þerof as sonne of glas,
For soþe wiþouten fayle.
His helme was of so michel miȝt,
Was neuer man ouer-comen in fiȝt
Þat hadde it on his ventayle.
It was Alisaunders, þe gret lording,
When he fauȝt wiþ Poreus þe king,
Þat hard him gan aseyle.
93
A gode swerd he hadde, wiþ-outen faile,Þat was Ectors in Troye batayle,
In gest as so men fint.
Ar he þat swerd dede forgon,
Of Grece he slouȝ þer mani on,
Þat died þurch þat dint.
Hose & gambisoun so gode kniȝt schold,
A targe listed wiþ gold
About his swere he hint.
Nas neuer wepen þat euer was make[d]
Þat o schel miȝt þerof take,
Na more þan of þe flint.
94
Or king Triamours elders it lauȝt,King Darri sum time it auȝt:
Þat Gij was vnder piȝt.
Ich man axe oþer bigan
Whennes & who was þat man
Þat wiþ þe geaunt durst fiȝt.
King Triamour seyd wiþ wordes fre,
‘Sir Soudan, herken now to me,
Astow art hendy kniȝt.
456
To defende me of þat ich gome
Þat is so stern of siȝt.
95
Þis litel kniȝt þat stont me bySchal fende me of þat felonie,
& make me quite & skere.’
‘Be stille,’ seyd þe Soudan þo,
‘Þat batail schal wel sone be go,
Also brouke y mi swere.’
He dede clepe Amorant so grim,
& Gij stode & loked on him,
Hou foule he was of chere.
‘It is,’ seyd Gij, ‘no mannes sone:
It is a deuel fram helle is come.
What wonder doþ he here?
96
Who miȝt his dintes dreye,Þat he no schuld dye an heye?
So strong he is of dede.’
Þan speken þai alle of þe batayle:
Where it schuld be, wiþ-outen fayle,
Þai token hem to rede.
Þan loked þai it schuld be
In a launde vnder þe cite:
Þider þai gun hem lede.
Wiþ a riuer it ern al about:
Þer-in schuld fiȝt þo kniȝtes stout.
Þai miȝt fle for no nede.
97
Ouer þe water þai went in a bot,On hors þai lopen fot hot,
Þo kniȝtes egre of mode.
458
& smiten togider wiþ dentes grete,
& ferd as þai wer wode,
Til her schaftes in þat tide
Gun to schiuer bi ich a side
About hem þer þai stode.
Þan þai drouȝ her swerdes grounde,
& hewe togider wiþ grimli wounde,
Til þai spradde al ablode.
98
Sir Amoraunt drouȝ his gode brond,Þat wele carf al þat it fond,
When he hadde lorn his launce:
Þat neuer armour miȝt wiþstond
Þat was made of smitþes hond
In heþenesse no in Fraunce.
It was sir Ercules þe strong,
Þat mani he slouȝ þer-wiþ wiþ wrong
In batayle & in destaunce.
Þer was neuer man þat it bere
Ouer-comen in batayle no in were,
Bot it were þurch meschaunce.
99
It was baþed in þe flom of helle:A goddes ȝaf it him to wille,
He schuld þe better spede.
Who þat bar þat swerd of miȝt,
Was neuer man ouercomen in fiȝt,
Bot it were þurch vnlede.
Þer worþ sir Gij to deþ y-brouȝt,
Bot ȝif god haue of him þouȝt,
His best help at nede.
Togider þai wer ȝern heweinde
Wiþ her brondes wele kerueinde,
And maden her sides blede.
460
100
Sir Amoraunt was agreued in hert,& smot to Gij a dint ful smert
Wiþ alle þe miȝt he gan welde,
& hitt him on þe helme so briȝt,
Þat alle þe stones of michel miȝt
Fleyȝe doun in þe feld.
Al of þe helme þe swerd out stint,
& forþ riȝt wiþ þat selue dint
Oþer half fot of þe scheld,
Þat neuer was atamed ar þan
For kniȝt no for no noþer man,
No were he neuer so beld.
101
Þe sadel bowe he clef atvo,Þe stedes nek he dede also,
Wiþ his grimli brond.
Wiþ-outen wem or ani wounde
Wele half a fot in-to þe grounde
Þe scharp swerd it wond.
Sir Gij to grounde fallen is,
He stirt vp anon, y-wis,
& loked, & gan wiþ-stond.
Anon riȝt in þat ich stede
To god almiȝten he bad his bede,
& held vp boþe his hond.
102
Sir Gij anon vp stirtAs man þat was agremed in hert,
Nouȝt wel long he lay.
‘Lord,’ seyd Gij, ‘god al-miȝt,
Þat made þe þerkenes to þe niȝt,
So help me to-day.
Scheld me fro þis geaunt strong,
Þat y no deþ of him afong,
Astow art lord verray.
462
Wele schal y com out of þi dett
Ȝif þat I libbe may.’
103
Gij hent his swerd, þat was ful kene,& smot Amoraunt wiþ hert tene
A dint þat sat ful sore,
Þat a quarter of his scheld
He made to fleye in þe feld
Al wiþ his grimli gore.
Þe stedes nek he smot atvo,
Amoraunt to grounde is fallen þo:
Wo was him þerfore.
Þan wer on fot þo kniȝtes bold:
Fiȝt ofot ȝif þai wold.
Her stedes þai han forlore.
104
Amoraunt wiþ hert ful grimSmot to Gij, & Gij to him,
Wiþ strokes stern & stiue.
Hard þai hewe wiþ swerdes clere,
Þat helme & swerd, þat strong were,
Þai gun hem al to-driue.
Hard fouȝten þo champiouns,
Þat boþe plates & hauberiouns
Þai gun to ret & riue,
& laiden on wiþ dintes gret.
Aiþer of hem so oþer gan bete,
Þat wo was hem oliue.
105
Sir Amoraunt was agreued strong,Þat o man stode him þo so long.
To Gij a strok he rauȝt,
& hit him on þe helme so briȝt,
Þat al þe floures fel doun riȝt.
Wiþ a ful grimly drauȝt
464
& forþ wiþ his dint also
Þer bileued it nouȝt:
On þe scheld þe swerd doun fel,
And cleue it in-to haluendel,
Almost to grounde him brouȝt.
106
What wiþ þe swerdes out draweing,& wiþ his hetelich out braiding,
Þer fel a wonder cas:
Sir Gij fel on knes to grounde,
& stirt vp in þat selue stounde,
& seyd, ‘lord ful of grace,
Neuer dint of kniȝt non
No miȝt me are knele don
In no stede þer y was.’
Sir Gij hent vp his swerd fot hot,
Amoraunt on þe hod he smot,
Þat he stumbled in þe place.
107
He hit him on þe helme an heyȝe,& wiþ þat dint þe swerd it fleyȝe:
Bi þe nasel it gan doun founde,
& so it dede bi þe ventayle,
& carf it ato, saunfaile,
& in-to his flesche a wounde.
His targe wiþ gold list
He carf atvo þurch help of Crist,
He cleue þat ich stounde.
So heteliche þe brond out he pliȝt,
Þat Amoraunt anon riȝt
Fel on knes to grounde.
466
108
So strong batayle was hem bitvene:So seyd þai þat miȝt it sene
Þat seye þai neuer non swiche,
Þat neuer was of wiman born
Swiche to kniȝtes as þai worn,
Þat fouȝten togider wiþ wreche.
On a day bifor þe natiuite
Of seyn Ion, þe martir fre,
Þat holy man is to seche,
Togider fouȝt þo barouns boþe,
Þat in hert wer so wroþe.
Of loue was þer no speche.
109
Sir Amoraunt wiþ-drouȝ himWiþ loureand chere wroþ & grim,
For þe blod of him was lete,
Þat drink he most, oþer his liif forgon:
So strong þrust ȝede him opon,
So michel was his hete.
‘Fourti batayls ichaue ouercome,
Ac fond y neuer er moder sone
Þat me so sore gan bete.
Tel me,’ he seyd, ‘what artow?
Felt y neuer man ar now
Þat ȝaf dintes so grete.
110
Tel me,’ he seyd, ‘wennes þou be;For þou art strong, so mot y the,
& of michel miȝt.’
468
Cristen icham, wele þou wost,
Of Inglond born, y pliȝt.
King Triamour me hider brouȝt
For to defenden him, ȝif y mouȝt,
Of þat michel vnriȝt
Þat ȝe beren on him wiþ wouȝ,
Þat Fabour neuer Sadony slouȝ
Noiþer bi day no niȝt.’
111
‘O, artow Inglis?’ seyd Amorant.‘Now wald mi lord Teruagaunt
Þat þou were Gij þe strong!
Mahoun ȝaf þat þou wer he!
Bliþe wald y þan be
Batail of him to fong:
For he haþ destrud al our lawe,
His heued wald ichaue ful fawe,
Or heiȝe on galwes hong;
For keuer schal we neuer more
Þat he haþ don ous forlore
Wiþ wel michel wrong.
112
Wiþ michel wrong & michel wouȝFourti þousend of ous he slouȝ
In Costentin on a day:
He & Herhaud, his felawe,
Michel han destrud our lawe,
Þat euer-more mon y may.
Ȝif he wer slain wiþ brond of stiel
Þan were y wroken on hem ful wel
Þat han destrud our lay.’
Sir Gij answerd, ‘whi seistow so?
Haþ Gij ani þing þe misdo?’
Amoraunt seyd, ‘nay,
113
Ac it wer gret worþschip, y-wis,To alle þe folk of heþenisse,
Þat y hadde so wroken mi kende.
470
Þe weder is hot, astow may se;
Y pray þe, leue frende:
Leue, to drink þou lat me gon
For þe lordes loue þou leuest on,
Astow art gode & hende.
For þrist mi hert wil to-spring,
& for hete, wiþ-outen lesing,
Mi liue wil fro me wende.
114
& ȝif y schal be þus aqueldÞurch strong hete in þe feld
It were oȝain þe skille:
Unworþschipe it war to þe,
It were þe gret vilete
In wat lond þou com tille.
Ac lete me drink a litel wiȝt
For þi lordes loue ful of miȝt
Þat þou louest wiþ wille,
& y þe hot bi mi lay,
Ȝif þou haue ani þrest to-day,
Þou shalt drink al þi fille.’
115
Sir Gij answerd, ‘y graunt þe,& ȝete to-day þou ȝeld it me
Wiþ-outen ani fayle.’
& when he hadde leue of sir Gij
He was ful glad, sikerli:
No lenger nold he dayle.
To þe riuer ful swiþe he ran,
His helme of his heued he nam,
& vnlaced his ventayle.
When he hadde dronken alle his fille
He stirt vp wiþ hert grille,
& sir Gij began to asayle.
116
‘Kniȝt,’ he seyd, ‘ȝeld þe biliue;For þou art giled, so mot y þriue.
Now ichaue a drink,
472
Þou schalt dye wiþ michel sorwe,
For-soþe, wiþouten lesing.’
Þan þai drowen her swerdes long,
Þo kniȝtes þat wer stern & strong,
Wiþ-outen more dueling,
& aiþer gan oþer þer asayle;
& þer bi-gan a strong bataile
Wiþ wel strong fiȝting.
117
Amoraunt was ful egre of mode,& smot to Gij as he wer wode
(Ful egre he was to fiȝt),
Þat a quarter of his scheld
He made it fleye into the feld,
And of his brini briȝt:
Of his scholder þe swerd glod doun,
Þat boþe plates & hauberioun
He carf atvo, y pliȝt,
Al to þe naked hide, y-wis,
& nouȝt of flesche atamed is
Þurch grace of god almiȝt.
474
118
Þe scharp swerd doun gan glideFast bi sir Gyes side
(His knew it com ful neye),
Þat gambisoun & iambler
Boþe it karf atvo y-fere:
Into þerþe þe swerd it fleye
Wiþ-outen wem or ani wounde
Half a fot in-to þe grounde,
Þat mani man it seye.
& when Gij seye þat fair grace,
Þat noþing wounded he was,
Iesu he þanked on heye.
119
& when Gij feld him so smiteHe was wroþ, ȝe mow wite:
To Amoraunt he gan reken.
He hent his brond wiþ wel gode wille,
& stroke to him wiþ hert grille:
His scheld he gan to-breken.
So hetelich Gij him smot,
Þat into þe scholder half a fot
Þe gode swerd gan reken;
& wiþ þat strok Gij wiþ-drouȝ:
Weri he was forfouȝten y-nouȝ;
To Amoraunt he gan speken.
120
‘Sir Amoraunt,’ þan seyd Gij,‘For godes loue now merci,
Ȝif that þi wille be.
Ichaue swiche þrist þer y stond,
Y may vnneþe drawe min hond;
Þerfore wel wo is me.
Ȝeld me now þat ich dede:
Y ȝaf þe leue to drink at nede.
Astow art hende & fre,
Leue, to drink þou lat me go,
As it was couenaunt bitven ous tvo:
For loue y pray þe.’
476
121
‘Hold þi pes,’ seyd Amoraunt,‘For, bi mi lord sir Teruagaunt,
Leue no hastow non.
Ac now þat y þe soþe se,
Þat þou ginnes to feynt þe,
Þine heued þou schalt forgon.’
‘Amoraunt,’ seyd Gij, ‘do ariȝt:
Lete me drink a litel wiȝt
As y dede þe anon,
& togider fiȝt we:
Who schal be maister we schal se,
Wiche of ous may oþer slon.’
122
‘Hold þi pays,’ seyd Amoraunt,‘Y nil nouȝt held þe couenaunt
For ful þis toun of gold;
For when ichaue þe sleyn now riȝt
Þe Soudan, treweli, haþ me hiȝt
His lond ȝif me he schold
Euermore to haue & hold fre,
& ȝiue me his douȝter briȝt o ble,
Þe miriest may on mold:
When ichaue þe sleyn þis day
He schal ȝiue me þat fair may
Wiþ alle his lond to hold.
123
Ac do now wele & vnarme þe,& trewelich ȝeld þou þe to me:
Oliue y lat þe gon.
& ȝif þou wilt nouȝt do bi mi red
Þou schalt dye on iuel ded:
Riȝt now y schal þe slon.’
‘Nay,’ seyd Gij, ‘þat war no lawe:
Ich hadde leuer to ben to-drawe
Þan swiche a dede to don.
478
Ich hadde leuer an-hanged be,
& brent boþe flesche & bon.’
124
Þan seyd Amoraunt, ‘at a word,Bi þe treuþe þou owe þi lord,
Þat þou louest so dere,
Tel me what þi name it be,
& leue to drink ȝiue y þe
Þi fille of þis riuer.
Þou seyd þi name is sir Youn:
It is nouȝt so, bi seyn Mahoun,
It is a lesing, fere.
Ȝif þi name were Youn riȝt
Þou nere nouȝt of so miche miȝt,
No þus vnbiknowen here.’
125
‘Frende,’ seyd Gij, ‘y schal telle þe:Astow art hendi man & fre,
Þou wray me to no wiȝt.
Gij of Warwike mi name it is:
In Inglond y was born, y-wis.
Lete me now drink wiþ riȝt.’
When Amoraunt seye, sikerly,
Þat it was þe gode Gij
Þat oȝaines him was diȝt,
He loked on him wiþ michel wrake
Sternliche wiþ his eyȝen blake,
Wiþ an vnsemli siȝt.
126
‘Sir Gij,’ he seyd, ‘welcom to me!Mahoun, mi lord, y thank þe
Þat ich haue þe her-inne.
Michel schame þou hast me don:
Þi liif þou schalt astite forgon,
Þi bodi schal atvinne,
480
Mi leman schal haue to presaunt,
Þat comly is of kinne.
Hennes-forward, siker þou be,
Leue no tit þe non of me,
For al þis warld to winne.’
127
‘Allas,’ seyd Gij, ‘what schal y don?Now y no may haue drink non
Mine hert brekeþ ato.’
Anon he biþouȝt him þenne
Riȝt to þe riuer he most renne:
He turned him, & gan to go.
Amoraunt wiþ swerd on hond
He thouȝt haue driuen Gij to schond:
Wiþ sorwe he wald him slo.
Gij ran to þe water riȝt:
Bot on him þenke god almiȝt
Vp comeþ he neuer mo.
128
Þo was sir Gij in gret drede.In þe water he stode to his girdel stede,
& þat þouȝt him ful gode.
In þe water he dept his heued anon,
Ouer þe schulders he dede it gon;
Þat keled wele his blod.
& when Gij hadde dronken anouȝ
Hetelich his heued vp he drouȝ
Out of þat ich flod;
& Amoraunt stode opon þe lond
With a drawen swerd in hond,
& smot Gij þer he stode.
129
Hetelich he smot Gyoun:Into þat water he fel adoun
Wiþ þat dint vnride,
482
Sir Gij stirt vp in gret dout:
For noþing he nold abide,
& schoke his heued as kniȝt bold.
‘In þis water icham ful cold
Wombe, rigge, & side,
& no leue, sir, ich hadde of þe,
& þer-fore haue þo[u] miche maugre,
& iuel þe mot bi-tide.’
130
Sir Gij stirt vp, wiþouten fayl,& Amoraunt he gan to asayl:
To fiȝt he was ful boun.
Hard togider þai gan to fiȝt:
Of loue was þer no speche, y pliȝt,
Bot heweing wiþ swerdes broun.
‘Amoraunt,’ þan seyd Gij,
‘Þou art ful fals, sikerly,
& ful-filt of tresoun.
No more wil y trust to þe
For no bihest þou hotest me:
Þou art a fals glotoun.’
131
Hard togider þai gun fiȝt:Fro þe morwe to þe niȝt
Þat long somers day,
So long þai fouȝten boþe þo.
Wiche was þe better of hem to
Noman chese no may.
Bot at a strok as Amoraunt cast,
Sir Gij mett wiþ him in hast,
& tauȝt him a sori play:
Þe riȝt arme wiþ þe swerd fot hot
Bi þe scholder of he it smot,
To grounde it fleye oway.
132
When Amoraunt feld him to smiteIn his left hond wiþ michel hete
Þe swerd he hent fot hot:
484
Þritti sautes he made & þre
Wiþ his swerd, þat wel bot;
Bot for þe blod þat of him ran
Amoraunt strengþe slake bigan.
When Gij þat soþ wot,
Þat Amoraunt was faynting,
Sir Gij him folwed wiþouten dueling:
Þat oþer hond of he smot.
133
When Amoraunt had boþe hondes forloreA wreche he held him-self þerfore:
His wit was alto-dreued.
On sir Gij he lepe wiþ alle his miȝt,
Þat almast he had feld him doun riȝt,
& sir Gij was agreued,
& stirt bisiden fot hot,
& Amoraunt in þe nek he smot:
His miȝt he haþ him bireued.
He fel to grounde, wiþouten faile,
& sir Gij vnlaced his ventayle,
& he strok of his heued.
134
Ouer þe water he went in a bot,& present þer-wiþ fot hot
Þe king, sir Triamour.
Þe king, sir Triamour, þan
Went to þat riche Soudan,
& also his sone Fabour.
Þan was þe Soudan swiþe wo:
Quite-claim he lete hem go
Wiþ wel michel honour.
486
& ladde wiþ hem sir Gij þe fre,
Þat hadde ben her socour.
135
Þe king tok þerl Ionas þo,& clept him in his armes to,
& kist him swete, ich wene,
An hundred times & ȝete mo,
& quite-claim he lete him go
& his sones fiftene.
‘Erl Ionas,’ seyd þe king,
‘Herken now to my teling,
& what ichil mene:
For mi liif þou sauedest me,
Half mi lond ich graunt þe
Wiþ þis kniȝt strong & kene.
136
Vnderstond to me, sir kniȝt:Mahoun ȝaue ful of miȝt
Þou wost duelle wiþ me!
Þridde part mi lond y ȝiue þe to:
Michel honour ichil þe do,
A riche prince make þe.
Y nil nouȝt þou forsake god þine:
Þou art bileueand wele afine
Better may no be.’
Sir Gij answerd him ful stille,
‘Sir, of þi lond nouȝt y nille,
For-soþe y telle þe.’
137
Þat erl to Ierusalem went anon,Gij of Warwike wiþ him gan gon
& alle his sones on rawe.
Þerl wold ȝif he miȝt
Wite þe name of þat kniȝt,
Ȝif he him euer-more sawe.
In conseyl, ‘sir kniȝt,’ þan seyd he,
‘Þat þou Youn dost clep þe,
Þou no hatest nouȝt so, y trowe.
488
Þat died on þe rode tre,
Þi riȝt name be aknawe.’
138
Sir Gij seyd, ‘þou schalt now here,Seþþen þou frainest me in þis maner:
Mi name ichil þe sayn.
Gij of Warwike mi name is riȝt.
Astow art hende & gentil kniȝt,
To non þou schalt me wrayn.
Batayl for þi loue y nam,
& þe geaunt ouer-cam;
Þerof icham ful fain.’
When þerl seye it was sir Gij
He fel doun on knes him bi,
& wepe wiþ boþ his ayn.
139
‘For godes loue,’ he seyd, ‘merci!Whi artow so pouer, sir Gij,
& art of so gret valour?
Here ich ȝiue þe in þis place
Al þerldam of Durras,
Cite & castel tour:
Þi man ichil bicomen & be,
& alle mi sones forþ wiþ me
Schal com to þi socour;
For þe priis of heþen lond
Þou hast þurch douhtines of hond
Wonne wiþ gret vigour.’
490
140
‘Erl Ionas,’ þan seyd sir Gij,‘Mi leue frende, gramerci
For þi gode wille!
Þan schustow hire me al to dere
To ȝiue me þi lond in swiche manere;
Þer-of nouȝt y nille.
To ȝour owen cuntre wendeþ hom:
God biteche y ȝou euerichon.
Mi way ichil ful-fille.’
Þan went & kist him eueri man:
Þerl so sore wepe bigan,
Þat miȝt him no man stille.
141
Þerl to Durras went anon& his sones euerichon,
Were scaped out of care.
Gij þan in his way is nome:
For þat þe geaunt was ouer-come,
Ful bliþe þan was he þare.
Into Grece þan went he,
& souȝt halwen of þat cuntre,
Þe best þat þer ware.
Seþþe forþ in his way he ȝede
Þurch-out mani vncouþe þede:
To Costentyn he is y-fare.
502
142
When Gij in Costentin hadde beOut of þat lond þan went he,
Walkand in þe strete
On pilgrimage in his iurnay,
His bedes bidand niȝt & day,
His sinnes for to bete.
In Almaine þan went he, y-wis,
Þer he was sumtime holden of gret pris.
He com to a four way lete
Biȝonde Espire, þat riche cite:
Under a croice, was maked of tre,
A pilgrim he gan mete,
143
Þat wrong his honden, & wepe sore,& curssed þe time þat he was bore:
‘Allas,’ it was his song.
‘Wayleway,’ he seyd, ‘that stounde!
Wickedliche icham brouȝt to grounde
Wiþ wel michel wrong.’
Sir Gij went to him þo:
‘Man,’ he seys, ‘whi farstow so?
So god ȝeue þe ioie to fong,
Tel me what þi name it be,
& whi þou makest þus gret pite:
Meþenke þi paynes strong.’
144
‘Godeman,’ seyd þe pilgrim þo,‘What hastow to frein me so?
Swiche sorwe icham in souȝt,
Þat, þei y told þe alle mi care,
For þe miȝt y neuer þe better fare:
To grounde icham so brouȝt.’
‘Ȝis,’ seyd Gij, ‘bi þe gode rode,
Conseyl y can ȝiue þe gode,
& tow telle me þi þouȝt;
504
Þat gode conseyle ȝiue can.
Þerfore hele it nouȝt.’
145
‘For god,’ he seyd, ‘þou seyst ful wel.Sumtime ich was, by seyn Miȝhel,
An erl of gret pouste.
Þurch al cristendom, y-wis,
Ich was teld a man of gret pris
& of gret bounte,
& now icham a wroche beggare:
No wonder þei icham ful of care.
Allas, wel wo is me!’
For sorwe he miȝt speke na more:
He gan to wepe swiþe sare,
Þat Gij hadde of him pite.
146
Þan seyd þe pilgrim, ‘þou hast gret wrongTo frain me of mi sorwe strong,
& miȝt noȝt bete mi nede.
To begge mi brede y mot gon:
Seþþen ȝistay at none ete y non,
Also god me rede.’
506
Telle me whi þou art in sorwe brauȝt:
Þe better þou schalt spede;
& seþþen we schul go seche our mete.
Ichaue a pani of old biȝete:
Þou schalt haue half to mede.’
147
‘Gramerci, sir,’ þan seyd he;‘& alle þe soþ y schal telle þe.
Erl Tirri is mi name,
Of Gormoys þerls sone Aubri.
Ich hadde a felawe þat hiȝt Gij,
A baroun of gode fame.
For þe douk of Paui sir Otoun
Hadde don him oft gret tresoun,
He slouȝ him wiþ gret grame.
Now is his neue þemperour steward,
His soster sone, þat hat Berard:
He has me don alle þis schame.
508
148
Þemperour he haþ serued long.For he is wonderliche strong
& of michel miȝt,
He no comeþ in non batayle
Þat he no haþ þe maistri, saunfayl:
So egre he is to fiȝt.
In þis warld is man non
Þat oȝaines him durst gon,
Herl, baroun, no kniȝt,
& he loked on him wiþ wrake,
Þat his hert no miȝt quake:
So stern he is of siȝt.
510
149
& for his scherewdhed sir BerardÞemperour haþ made him his steward,
To wardi his lond about.
Þer nis no douk in al þis lond
Þat his hest dar wiþ-stonde:
So michel he is dout.
Ȝif a man be loued wiþ him,
Be he neuer so pouer of kin,
& he wil to him lout,
He makeþ hem riche anon riȝt,
Douk, erl, baroun, or kniȝt,
To held wiþ him gret rout.
150
& ȝif a man wiþ him hated be,Be he neuer so riche of fe,
He flemeþ him out of lond:
Anon he schal ben to-drawe,
Als tite he schal ben y-slawe,
& driuen him al to schond.
So it bifel, our emperour
Held a parlement of gret honour:
For his erls he sent his sond.
Y come þider wiþ michel prede
Wiþ an hundred kniȝtes bi mi side,
At nede wiþ me to stonde.
151
& when y come vnto þe courtÞe steward, þe wicked pourt,
To me he gan to reke:
He bicleped me of his emes ded,
& seyd he was sleyn þurch mi red:
On me he wald be wreke.
&, when ich herd þat chesoun
Of þe doukes deþ Otoun,
Mine hert wald to-breke.
To þemperour y layd mi wedde an heiȝe
512
Þat he to me gan speke.
152
No wonder þei y war fordredde.Þemperour tok boþe our wedde,
As y þe telle may.
For in alle þe court was þer no wiȝt,
Douk, erl, baroun, no kniȝt,
Þat durst me borwe þat day,
Þemperour comand anon
Into his prisoun y schuld be don
Wiþ-outen more delay.
Berard went, & sesed mi lond;
Mine wiif he wald haue driuen to schond:
Wiþ sorwe sche fled oway.
153
Þan was ich wiþ sorwe & careAmong min fomen nomen þare,
& don in strong prisoun.
Min frendes token hem to rede,
To þemperour þai bisouȝt & bede
To pay for me ransoun.
Þemperour & sir Berard
Deliuerd me bi a forward
& bi þis enchesoun,
Y schuld seche mi felawe Gij,
To defende ous of þat felonie
Of þe doukes deþ Otoun.
514
154
Out of þis lond went y me,& passed ouer þe salt se:
In Inglond y gan riue.
At Warwike ichim souȝt:
When y com þider y fond him nouȝt
(Wo was me oliue),
No sir Herhaud fond y nouȝt tare:
To seche Gyes sone he is fare,
Þat was stollen wiþ striue.
Þerfore y wot þat Gij is ded:
For sorwe can y me no red;
Mine hert wil breke o fiue.’
155
Sir Gij biheld Tirri ful riȝt,Þat whilom was so noble a kniȝt,
& lord of michel mounde.
His bodi, was sumtim wele y-schredde,
Almost naked it was bihedde,
Wiþ sorwe & care ful bounde.
516
To-brosten he seiȝe hem eueridel.
‘Allas,’ seyd Gij, ‘þat stonde.’
For sorwe þat he hadde þo
Word miȝt he speke no mo,
Bot fel aswon to grounde.
156
Sir Tirri anon com to him þan,& in his armes vp him nam,
& cleped opon him þare.
‘Man,’ he said, ‘what aileþ þe?
Þou art iuel at aise, so þenkeþ me.
Hard it is þi fare.’
Sir Gij answerd þer-after long,
‘Þis iuel greueþ me so strong,
In erþe y wold y ware;
For, seþþen þat y was first man,
Nas neuer sorwe on me cam
Þat greued me so sare.’
157
Þan seyd Tirri, ‘felawe, y-wis,To-day a ȝer gon it is
Out of þis lond y went
To seche Gij, mi gode frende,
Y no finde nouȝt fer no hende:
Þerfore icham al schent;
For now it is teld me our emperer
Haþ taken a parlement of þis maner
For mi loue, verrament,
Þat douk no erl in his lond be,
Þat he no schal be at þat semble,
For to here mi iugement.
158
& now no lenge abide y no may,Þat ne me bi-houeþ hom þis day,
Oþer for to lese min hed.
Þemperour ichaue mi treuþe y-pliȝt,
Y schal bring sir Gij to-niȝt
To fiȝt oȝain þat qued,
518
Oȝain þe douke Berard of Paui
Al of his emes ded.
Y wot wele, ȝif y þider fare,
Þai schal me sle wiþ sorwe & care:
Certes, y can no red.’
159
Gij biheld Tirri wiþ wepeand eiȝe,& seiȝe him al þat sorwe dreiȝe,
Þat was him lef & dere:
‘Allas,’ þouȝt Gij, ‘þat ich stounde
Þat Tirri is þus brouȝt to grounde!
So gode felawes we were.’
He þouȝt, ‘miȝt y mete þat douke,
His heued y schuld smite fro þe bouke,
Or hong him bi þe swere.
Y no lete for al þis warldes won
Þat y no schuld þe traitour slon,
To wreke Tirri, mi fere.
160
Tirri,’ seyd Gij, ‘lat be þi þouȝt:Y-wis, it helpeþ þe riȝt nouȝt,
For sorwe it wil þe schende.
To court go we boþe y-fere:
Gode tidinges we schul þer here;
Swiche grace god may sende.
Haue gode hert, dred þe no del;
For god schal help þe ful wel:
So curteys he is & hende.’
Up risen þo kniȝtes tvo
Wiþ michel care & ful of wo:
To court ward þai gan wende.
520
161
& as þai went þo kniȝtes freTo court ward in her iurne
Ful bold þai were & ȝepe.
‘Allas,’ sir Tirri seyd þo,
‘Ich mot rest er ich hennes go,
Or mi liif wil fro me lepe.’
‘For god, felawe,’ þan seyd Gij,
‘Ly doun, & y schal sitt þe bi,
& feir þine heued vp kepe.’
& when he hadde þus y-seyd
On Gyes barm his heued he leyd:
Anon Tirri gan slepe.
162
& when sir Tirri was fallen on slepeSir Gij biheld him, & gan to wepe,
& gret morning gan make.
Þan seiȝe he an ermine com of his mouþe
Als swift als winde, þat bloweþ on clouþe,
As white as lilii on lake.
To an hille he ran wiþouten obade:
At þe hole of þe roche in he glade.
Gij wonderd for þat sake.
& when he out of þat roche cam
Into Tirries mouþe he nam:
Anon Tirri gan wake.
163
Sir Gij was wonderd of þat siȝt,& Tirri sat vp anon riȝt,
& biheld Gij opon.
Þan seyd Tirri, ‘fader of heuen!
Sir pilgrim, swiche a wonder sweuen
Me met now anon,
Þat to ȝon hille þat stont on heiȝe,
Þat þou may se wiþ þi neiȝe,
Me þouȝt þat y was gon,
522
& so riche tresour as y fond
Y trow in þis world is non.
164
Biside þat tresour lay a dragoun,& þer-on lay a swerd broun,
Þe sckauberk comly corn:
In þe hilt was mani precious ston,
As briȝt as ani sonne it schon,
Wiþ-outen oþ y-sworn.
& me þouȝt Gij sat at min heued,
& in his lappe me biweued
Astow dest me biforn.
Lord, merci, & it wer so
Wele were me þan bi-go,
Þat euer ȝete was y born.’
165
‘Now, felawe,’ seyd Gij, ‘bi mi leute,Þat s[w]euen wil turn gret ioie to þe,
& wele y schal it rede:
Þurch Gij þou schalt þi lond keuer.
Trust wele to god, þei þou be pouer:
Þe better þou schalt spede.
To þe hulle nim we þe way,
Þer þe þouȝt þe tresour lay,
& in þou schalt me lede.
Now god, þat schope al mankinde,
Wald we miȝt þat tresour finde:
It wald help ous at nede.’
166
Vp risen þo kniȝtes tvay,& to þe hille þai nom þe way,
& in þai went ful euen,
& founde þe tresour, & þe dragoun,
& þe swerd of stiel broun,
As Tirri met in his sweuen.
Sir Gij drouȝ out þat swerd anon,
& alle þe pleynes þer-of it schon,
As it were liȝt of leuen.
524
Y seiȝe neuer are swiche a brond;
Y wot it com fram heuen.’
167
Sir Gij gan þe hilt bi-hold,Þat richeliche was grauen wiþ gold,
Of charbukel þe pomel.
Into þe sckaweberk oȝain he it dede,
& seyd to Tirri in þat stede,
‘Bi god & seyn Miȝhel,
Of alle þis riche tresore
Y no kepe þerof no more,
Bot þis brond of stiel.’
168
To courtward þo kniȝtes went:To aspie after þe parlement
For drede wald þai nouȝt lete.
Ac Tirri was aferd ful sare
Of his fomen be knowen þare,
In þe cite ȝif he sete;
Þerfore þai toke her ostel gode
At an hous wiþouten þe toun stode
Al bi a dern strete.
Of al niȝt Gij slepe nouȝt:
So michel his hert was euer in þouȝt
Wiþ douk Berard to mete.
169
Erlich amorwe þan ros Gij,& bisouȝt god & our leuedi
He schuld scheld him fro blame,
& seyd to sir Tirri þe hende,
‘Kepe me wele þis swerd, leue frende,
Til y sende þer-fore, bi name,
& y schal go to court þis day,
& ȝif y þe douke mete may
Y schal gret him wiþ grame,
& ȝif he say ouȝt bot gode
526
Him tit a warld schame.’
170
Gij goþ to toun wiþ michel hete:Þemperour fram chirche he gan mete,
& gret him wiþ anour.
‘Lord’ seyd Gij, ‘þat wiþ hond
Made wode, water, & lond,
Saue þe, sir emperour.
Icham a man of fer cuntre,
& of þi gode par charite
Ich axse to mi socour.’
Þemperour seyd, ‘to court come,
& of mi gode þou schalt haue some
For loue of seyn sauour.’
171
To court þai went al & some.Þemperour dede Gij biforn him come:
‘Pilgrim,’ þan seyd he,
‘Þou art wel weri meþenkeþ now:
Fram wiche londes comestow?
For þi fader soule, telle me.’
‘Sir,’ seyd Gij, ‘ich vnderstond,
Ichaue ben in mani lond
Biȝond þe Grekis se:
In Ierusalem & in Surry,
In Costentin & in Perci
A gode while haue ich be.’
172
‘Sir pilgrim,’ seyd þemperour fre,‘What spekeþ man in þat lond of me
When þou com þennes ward?’
Sir Gij answerd, ‘bi þe gode rode,
Men spekeþ þe þer ful litel gode,
Bot tidinges schrewed & hard;
For þou hast schent so þerl Tirri
& oþer barouns, þat ben hendy,
For loue of þi steward.
Gret sinne it is to þe
528
Al for a fals schreward.’
173
When þe douk herd him speke so,As a wilde bore he lepe him to,
His costes for to schawe.
Wiþ his fest he wald haue smiten Gij,
Bot barouns held him owy
Wele tventi on a rawe.
He seyd to Gij, ‘vile traitour,
Ner þou bifor þemperour,
Þei y wende to ben to-hewe,
Bi thi berd y schuld þe schokke,
Þat al þi teþ it schuld rokke;
For þou art a kinde schrewe.
174
Bi þi semblaunt se men mayÞou hast ben traitour mani a day:
God ȝif þe schame & schond.
Ȝif þat y þe mai ouergon,
To wicked ded þou schalt be don,
As a traitour to ly in bond:
In swiche a stede þou schalt be,
Þis seuen winter no schaltow se
Noiþer fet no hond.
So schal men chasti foule glotuns
Þat wil missay gode barouns
Þat lordinges ben in lond.’
175
‘Ow sir,’ seyd Gij, ‘ertow þas?Y nist no nar ho it was,
Bi þe gode rode,
& now y wot þat þou art he:
Þou art vncurteys, so þenkeþ me.
Þou farst astow wer wode,
& art a man of fair parage:
Y-com þou art of heiȝe linage
& of gentil blod.
It is þe litel curteysie
530
Bifor þemperour þer y stode.
176
& for þe wil y wond no-þing:Y schal telle þe þe soþe wiþouten lesing
Bifor his barouns ichon,
Þat wiþ gret wrong & sinne, ywis,
Þerl Tirri deshirrite is
& oþer gode mani on.
A þousend men ichaue herd teld
Boþe in toun & in feld,
As wide as ichaue gon,
Þat he is giltles of þat dede:
Þou berst on him wiþ falshede
Þi neme he schuld slon.’
177
Þe douk Berra[r]d was wroþ,Bi Iesu Crist he swore his oþ,
‘Y wald þat þou were Gij,
Or þat þou so douhti were
Þou durst fiȝt for him here:
God ȝaf it & our leuedi!’
Sir Gij answerd, ‘bi seyn sauour,
Drede þe noþing, vile traitour:
Þerto icham redy.
Bi þou wroþ, be þou gladde,
To þemperour y ȝif mi wedde
To fiȝt for þerl Tirri.’
532
178
Þe douk Berard þer he stodeStared on Gij as he wer wode,
& egrelich seyd his þouȝt.
‘Pilgrim,’ he seyd, ‘þou art ful stout:
Y-wis, þi wordes þat er so prout
Schal be ful dere abouȝt.
Y warn þe wele,’ he seyd þo,
‘Þat þine heued þou schalt forgo,
Where so þou may be souȝt.’
Sir Gij seyd, ‘þan þou it hast,
Þan make þer-of þi bast;
For ȝete no getes þou it nouȝt.’
179
Bifor þemperour þan come Gij,& seyd, ‘sir Berard of Paui
Is a man of miȝti dede,
& fram fer cuntres comen icham,
& am a sely pouer man:
Y no haue here no sibbered,
No y no haue wepen no armour briȝt.
For þe loue of god al-miȝt,
Finde me armour & stede.’
Þemperour answerd, ‘bi Iesu,
Pilgrim, þou schalt haue anow
Of al þat þe is nede.’
180
Þe douk Berra[r]d þennes he went:His hert was in strong turment,
He no wist what he do miȝt.
Þemperour cleped his douhter, a mayde:
‘Leue douhter,’ to hir he seyd,
‘Kepe þis pilgrim to-niȝt.’
Sche him vnderfenge ful mildeliche,
& dede baþe him ful softliche:
In silke sche wald him diȝt,
534
Bot of gode armour he hir bisouȝt,
Wiþ þe douke Berard to fiȝt.
181
Amorwe aros þat emperour:Erls, barouns of gret honour
To chirche wiþ him þai ȝede,
& when þe barouns asembled was
Þan miȝt men sen in þat plas
To-gider a fair ferred.
Þider com þe douk Berard
Prout & stern as a lipard,
Wele y-armed on stede,
& priked riȝt as he wer wode
Among þe barouns þer þai stode,
Batayle for to bede.
182
Þe maiden forȝat neuer a del,Þe pilgrim was armed ful wel
Wiþ a gode glaiue in honde,
& a swift ernand stede
Al wrin sche dede him lede,
Þe best of þat lond.
Þat sir Gij him bi-þouȝt,
Þe gode swerd forȝat he nouȝt
Þat he in tresour fond.
He sent þerafter priueliche
(Noman wist litel no miche),
& Tirri sent him þe brond.
183
When þat mayden hadde graiþed Gij,Wele y-diȝt & ful richely,
Men gan on him biheld.
536
To þemperour wiþ gode wille:
Sche tauȝt him for to weld.
Þan seyd þemperour hende & fre,
‘Lordinges, listen now to me,
Boþe ȝong & eld.
Þis kniȝt, þat ȝe se now here,
Haþ taken batail in strong maner,
Al for to fiȝt in feld.
184
Þis kniȝt,’ he seyd, ‘þat ston[t] me bi,Wil fiȝt for þerl sir Tirri
(For no þing wil he wond),
& defende him of þat felonie
Oȝain þe douk Berard of Paui
Þat he berþ him an hond;
For Tirri is out of lond went
To seche Gij, verrament,
Þat for him miȝt stond
(Þis day is sett bitven hem tvo),
Or be deshirrite for euer-mo,
& flemed out of lond.
185
Bot now is comen here þis kniȝt,Oȝain Berard haþ taken þe fiȝt:
For no þing wil he flen.
Ac, lordinges,’ he seyd, ‘euerichon,
Where the batayl schal be don
Loke, where it may best ben.’
Þan loked þai it schuld be
In a launde vnder þe cite.
Þider in þai went bi-den:
538
Help þe pilgrim, as he wele may,
Þe douk Berard to slen.
186
On hors lopen þo kniȝtes prest,& lopen to-gider til schaftes brest,
Þat strong weren & trewe,
& her gerþes brusten, þat strong were,
& þo kniȝtes boþe y-fere
Out of her sadels þrewe.
After þai drouȝ her swerdes gode,
& leyd on as þai were wode,
Þat were gode & newe;
& astow sest þe fir on flint
Þe stem out of her helmes stint
So hetelich þai gun hewe.
187
Wele wer armed þo kniȝtes stout,Bot he had more yren him about
Þat fals Berardine:
Tvay hauberkes he was in weued,
& tvay helmes opon his heued,
Was wrouȝt in Sarazine.
Opon his schulder henge a duble scheld
(Better miȝt non be born in feld),
A gode swerd of stiel fine:
Mani man þerwiþ his liif had lorn.
It was sumtim þer-biforn
Þe kinges Costentine.
188
Strong batayl held þo kniȝtes bold,Þat alle þat euer gan hem bihold
Þai seyden hem among
Þe pilgrim was non erþely man;
It was an angel, from heuen cam
For Tirri batayle to fong:
540
Berard haþ y-brouȝt adoun
Wiþ wel michel wrong,
Þer-fore haþ God sent, y-wis,
An angel out of heuen blis
To sle þat traitour strong.’
189
Al þe folk in þat cite was,Litel & michel, more & las,
To se þe batayl þai ȝede;
Bot Tirri in a chirche liis,
& euer he bisouȝt god, y-wis,
He schuld him help & spede.
When he herd telle [þat a] pilgrim
Fauȝt oȝain þe douke Berardin,
To help him at his nede,
Wel fain he wald þider gon,
Bot for knoweing of his fon:
Wel sore he gan him drede.
190
Ac naþeles he ros vp þoWiþ michel care & michel wo,
& þider he went wel swiþe.
When he com to þe plas
Þer þe bataile loked was,
Amonges hem he gan liþe,
&, when he seyȝe the douk so strong
& his armes to-hewe among,
In his hert he was ful bliþe,
542
God he þonked wiþ gode wille.
191
‘Lord, merci!’ Tirri gan say:‘Þis is nouȝt þe pilgrim y met ȝisterday
Þat is so richeliche diȝt.
He was a feble pouer body,
Sely, messays, & hungri;
& he is of michel miȝt.
Y trow non erþelich man it be.
On Gij y þenke when ichim se:
So douhti he was in fiȝt.
Ȝif Gij, mi felawe, nouȝt ded nere,
Ich wald sigge þat he it were:
So liche þai ben of siȝt.’
192
Into chirche oȝain he ȝede,& fel on knes in þat stede,
& Iesus Crist he bi-souȝt
He schuld help þe pilgrim
Þat fauȝt oȝain douk Berardin,
Þat miche wo haþ him wrouȝt.
Hard togider gun þai fiȝt
Fro the morwe to þe niȝt,
Þat þai rest hem nouȝt;
& when hem failed liȝt of day
Þai couþe no rede what þai do may:
To þemperour þai hem brouȝt.
193
‘Sir emperour,’ þai seyd anon,‘What schul we wiþ þis kniȝtes don?
At þi wille schal it be.’
Þemperour clept to him þo
Four barouns þat his trust was to.
‘Lordinges,’ þan seyd he,
‘Kepe me wele þe douk Berard,
& bring him tomorwe bi a forward,
Opon al ȝour fe.
544
Til tomorwe þat it is day liȝt
He schal bileue wiþ me.’
194
Þan departed þis batayle:Þo four barouns, wiþ-outen fayl,
Vnder-stode Berard to kepe,
& þemperour toke þe pilgrim,
In a chaumber to loken him
Wiþ seriaunce wise & ȝepe.
Þe douke Berard for-ȝat him nouȝt,
Of a foule tresoun he him bi-þouȝt:
Four kniȝtes he gan clepe.
‘F[or] mi loue,’ he seyd, ‘goþ to-niȝt
Þ[er] þe pilgrim liþ ful riȝt,
& sleþ him in his slepe.’
195
Þai armed hem swiþe welBoþe in iren & in stiel,
& went hem forþ in hast.
Into þe chaumber þai went anon:
Þe pilgrims kepers euerichon
Lay & slepe full fast.
To þe pilgrim þai went ful riȝt,
& left vp þe bedde wiþ her miȝt,
Þo four traitours vnwrast:
To þe se þai beren him,
& boþe bed & þe pilgrim
Into þe see þai cast.
196
To sir Berard þai went anon,& teld him hou þai hadden don;
Þerof he was ful fawe.
‘Sir,’ þai seyd, ‘be nouȝt adred:
Boþe þe pilgrim & þe bed,
Into þe se we han y-þrawe.’
546
Þe sterres on þe heuen he seiȝe,
Þe water about him drawe.
Þei he was ferd no wonder it nis:
Non oþer þing he no seyȝe, y-wis,
Bot winde & wateres wawe.
197
‘Lord,’ seyd Gij, ‘god almiȝt,Þat winde, & water, & al þing diȝt,
On me haue now pite!
Whi is me fallen þus strong cumbring?
& y no fiȝt for to win no þing,
Noiþer gold no fe,
For no cite no no castel,
Bot for mi felawe y loued so wel,
Þat was of gret bounte.
For he was sumtyim so douhti,
& now he is so pouer a bodi,
Certes, it reweþ me.’
548
198
Now herkeneþ a litel striif,Hou he saued þe pilgrims liif
Iesu, þat sitt in trone,
Wiþ a fischer þat was comand,
In þe se fische takeand
Bi himself al-on.
He seþ þat bed floter him by:
‘On godes half,’ he gan to cri,
‘What artow? say me son.’
Þe pilgrim his heued vp pliȝt,
& crid to him anon riȝt,
& made wel reweli mon.
199
‘Gode man,’ þan seyd he,‘Y leue on god in trinite:
Þe soþe þou schalt now sen.
Vnderstode þou ouȝt of þe batayl hard
Bitven þe pilgrim & sir Berard,
Hou þai fouȝten bitven?’
Þe fischer seyd, ‘y seiȝe þe fiȝt
Fro þe morwe to þe niȝt:
For noþing wald þai flen.
Þemperour comand þo
Þai schuld be kept boþe tvo,
Tomorwe bring hem oȝen.’
200
‘Icham,’ he seyd, ‘þe pilgrimÞat fauȝt wiþ þe douke Berardin
For Tirri, þe hendi kniȝt.
Ȝistreuen we wer deled ato;
In a chaumber y was do
Wiþ seriaunce wise & wiȝt:
Hou ich com her no wot y nouȝt.
For his loue þat þis warld haþ wrouȝt,
Saue me ȝif þou miȝt.’
Þe fischer tok him into his bot anon,
& to his hous he ladde him hom,
& saued his liif þat niȝt.
550
201
Þemperour ros amorwe, y-wis,& at þe chirche he herd his messe
In þe first tide of þe day,
& into his halle he gan gon,
& after þe steward he axed anon
& þe pilgrim wiþ-outen delay.
Þe four barouns forȝat hem nouȝt,
Þe douke Berard þai han forþ brouȝt
Redy armed to play;
& þe pilgrims kepers com euerichon,
& seyd to þemperour, bi seyn Ion,
Þe pilgrim was oway.
202
Þemperour was wel wroþ:Bi his fader soule he swore his oþ,
Þai schuld ben hang & drawe.
‘For godes loue,’ he seyd, ‘merci!
Þis douke Berard of Paui
Haþ him brouȝt o dawe.’
Þemperour seyd, ‘bi seyn Martin,
Hastow don þis fals, Berardin,
To don þe pilgrim slawe?
Ȝeld him deþes or liues to me,
Or in mi court demp[t] þou schalt be
Þurch iugement of lawe.’
203
Þe douke Berard wex wroþ & wo;Þemperour he answerd þo
Wiþ wel michel hete:
‘Ichaue serued þe long, sir emperour,
552
& now þou ginnest me þrete.
Þerof ȝiue y nouȝt a chirston.
Hom to Lombardy ichil gon:
Wiþ alle þe ost y may gete
Y schal com in-to Almayn; for al þi tene
Of al þi lond, siker mot þou ben,
O fot y no schal þe lete.’
204
When þemperour herd þat,& of his þretening vnder-ȝat,
He bad wiþ wordes bold
Out of his court he schuld gon.
& he answerd sone anon
Þat sikerliche he nold.
Þer com þe fischer priueliche,
& puked þemperour softliche:
His tale to him he told.
‘Sir emperour,’ he seyd, ‘listen to me:
Of þe pilgrim ichil telle þe,
Ȝif þou me herken wold.’
205
‘Fischer,’ seyd þemperour fre,‘Of þe pilgrim telle þou me,
Ȝif þou þe soþe can sayn.’
‘For-soþe,’ he seyd, ‘y can ful wel:
Y schal þe leyȝen neuer a del;
Þerof icham ful fain.
Ȝistreuen, wiþ-outen lesing,
Y went to þe se of fischeing,
Mine nettes for to layn.
A bedde y fond þer floterand,
554
A man of michel mayn.
206
& ich him axed what he were:He told me þe soþe þere
Wiþ wordes fre & hende.
‘Icham,’ he seyd, ‘þe pilgrim
Þat fauȝt wiþ þe douke Berardin
Ȝisterday to þe nende.’
Y tok him into mi bot anon,
& to min hous y lad him hom,
& kept him as mi frende.
Ȝif þou leuest nouȝt he is þare,
Do sum seriaunt þider fare,
& þer ȝe may him fende.’
207
Þemperour sent after him þoWiþ þe fischer & other mo,
& brouȝt him, saunfayle.
Þai were don togider bliue
Wiþ hard strokes for to driue:
Þai gun hem to asayle.
Wel hard togider gun þai fiȝt:
Wiþ her brondes, þat wer briȝt,
Þai hewe hauberk of mayle.
Þus togider gun þai play,
Til it was þe heyȝe midday,
Wiþ wel strong batayle.
208
Þe douk Berard was egre of mode:He smot to Gij as he wer wode;
His liif he wende to winne.
He hit [him] on þe helm on hiȝt,
Þat alle þe floures feir & briȝt
He dede hem fleyȝe atvinne.
Þe nasel he carf atvo,
& þe venteyle he dede also
Riȝt to his bare chinne.
556
209
Sir Gij was wroþ anon fot hot,& Berard on þe helme he smot:
To stond hadde he no space;
For boþe helmes he carf atvo,
& his heued he dede also
In midward of þe face.
Þurch al his bodi þe swerd bot
Into þe erþe wele half a fot,
Þat seiȝe men in þe place.
Þ[e s] oule went fro þe bodi þere:
Þ[e fol]k of þe cite wel glad were;
Þ[ai] þonked our lordes grace.
558
210
Bifor þemperour þan com sir Gij:‘Ichaue wroken þerl Tirri
(Þe soþe þou miȝt now sen),
& defended him of þat felonie
Oȝain þe douke Berard of Paui,
Þat was so stout & ken.
Þerfore þe soþe ich ax þe,
Ȝif Tirri schal quitecleymed be,
& haue his lond oȝen.
& who so þer-oȝain wiþstond
He schal haue schame of min hond,
Wel siker may he ben.’
211
Þemperour seyd, ‘sikerly,Þou hast wroken þerl Tirri;
Gret honour þou hast him don.
Þerfore when he is come
His londes þan al & some
He schal haue euerichon.’
Þan was Gij glad & bliþe,
& kest of his armes also swiþe:
After him he thouȝt to gon.
Þemperour wald cloþe him in gold,
Ac, sikerliche, he seyd he nold:
His sclauain he axed anon.
560
212
To toun he went in his wayTo finde Tirri ȝif he may
In sorwe & care ful bounde.
Into a chirche he him dede,
& fond him in a priue stede
Liand on knes to grounde.
‘Arise vp, Tirri,’ he seyd þo;
‘To court þou schalt wiþ me go,
Now ichaue þe founde.’
Tirri anon his heued vpbreyd,
& seyd, ‘pilgrim, hastow me treyd,
Allas þat ich stounde!
213
Allas, allas,’ þan seyd he,‘To what man may men trust be,
To chese to his make?
Þou þat semed so stedefast
To þemperour me wraied hast:
To sle me þou hast take.
In iuel time was it to me
Þat y mi name told to þe:
Allas þat ich sake!’
For sorwe þat he hadde þo
O word no miȝt he speke mo,
Bot stode & gan to quake.
214
‘Tirri,’ seyd Gij, ‘drede þe no-þing:Þou schalt to-day here gode tiding
Þurch grace of godes sond.
Þe schrewed douke Berard he is ded;
Under þe cite he is y-leyde:
Y slouȝ him wiþ min hond.’
Þo was Tirri glad & bliþe:
To court he went also swiþe;
For noþing wald he wond.
‘Sir emperour,’ seyd Gij anon,
‘Now is Tirri comen hom
To resceiue his lond.’
562
215
Þemperour on him gan bihold,& seyd to him wiþ wordes bold,
‘Artow þerl Tirri?
Where is now þi bold chere
Þat whilom so douhti were,
& holden so hardi?’
‘Ȝa, sir,’ he seyd, ‘icham he.
Whilom y was of gret bounde,
& helden ful douhti;
& now ich haue al forlorn
Wiþ miche sorwe on euen & morn
To seke mi felawe sir Gij.
216
Ich haue him souȝt in mani lond,Ac neuer man ȝete ich fond
Can telle of him no sawe:
He is dede, ich wot full wel.
God almiȝti & seyn Miȝhel
To blis his soule drawe!
Ac now is it told me þis pilgrim
As slayn þe douke Berardin;
Þerof icham ful fawe.
Sir emperour, y bid merci:
For godes loue & our leuedi,
Þo[u] do me londes lawe.’
217
Þritti erls wel curteys,& alle þe lordinges of þe palais,
& mani baroun afine
Crid merci to þemperour bold.
Þemperour gan him bihold,
& seyd, ‘Tirri, frende min,
Here y sese þe in al þi lond,
Wiþ worþschip to held in þine hond,
Bi god & seyn Martine.
Bifor mi barouns y graunt þe,
Steward of mi lond þou schalt be
As was þe douke Berardine.’
564
218
Þemperour kist him ful swete,Forȝaf him his wreþe & his hete
Bifor hem al þere.
When þemperour & þerl were at on,
Þe lordinges euerichon
Wele bliþe of hertes were.
‘Sir Tirri,’ seyd þemperour fre,
‘For þi fader soule, tel þou me,
Astow art me leue & dere,
Whennes is þis pilgrim?
Is he þi nem or þi cosyin
Þat fauȝt for þe here?’
219
‘Sir emperour,’ seyd sir Tirri,‘So god me help & our leuedi,
For-soþe wiþouten fayle,
Y no seiȝe neuer ere þis pilgrim,
Bot þis oþer day y met wiþ him,
& told him mi conseyl.
He swore astite bi seyn Ion
To þi court he wald gon
Þe douk Berard to asayle.
Ich wend wel litel þan, y pliȝt,
He hadde ben of michel miȝt,
To hold wiþ him batayle.’
566
220
Þemperour dede as a gode man,& Tirri into his chaumber he nam,
& richeliche gan him schrede.
He fond him wepen, & armour briȝt,
& al þat schuld falle to kniȝt,
& feffed him wiþ prede;
& fond him hors & stedes gode,
Of al his lond þe best stode,
Hom wiþ him to lede.
Þemperour wald þe pilgrim at-hold,
Ac, sikerliche, he seyd he nold:
Wiþ Tirri hom he ȝede.
221
When Tirri was comen hom,Þe pilgrim he wald anon
Sesen in al his lond,
& he for-soke it al out-riȝt;
For riches loued he no-wiȝt
For to hold in hond.
Þerl as swiþe his sond he sent
Ouer al his lond, verrament,
Til þat his wiif he fond:
Þo was sche founden in an ile
In a nunri þat while
For doute of Berardes bond.
222
Þo was Tirri a noble man,In al þat lond better nas nan,
As y ȝou tel may.
Destrud were al his enemis:
He liueþ in michel ioie & blis,
Al-so a prince in play.
Anon sir Gij him bi-þouȝt
Þat lenger wald he duelle nouȝt.
To sir Tirri on a day
He seyd to him in þat tide,
‘Here nil y no lenger abide:
Ich mot wende in mi way.
568
223
O þing,’ he seyd, ‘y pray þe:Out of þe cite go wiþ me,
Astow art hendi kniȝt.
Alon we shul go boþe y-fere,
& swich tidinges þou schalt here,
Þou schalt haue wonder, apliȝt.’
Þerl him graunt wiþ hert fre,
& went wiþ him out of þat cite
In his way ful riȝt,
& when þai wer þennes half a mile
Þer þai duelled a litel while,
Þo gomes of michel miȝt.
224
‘Tirri,’ seyd Gij, ‘vnderstond þou þe:Þou art vnkinde, so þenkeþ me;
For Gij, þi gode fere,
Whi wiltow him knowe nouȝt?
Y-wis, þou art iuel biþouȝt.
No was he þe leue & dere?
Þenke he slouȝ þe douk Otoun,
& brouȝt þe out of his prisoun,
& made þe quite & skere,
& hou he fond þe ded almast
As he rode þurch a forest
Wiþ a rewely chere,
570
225
& hou he socourd þi leman schene,& al þe fiften outlawes ken
He slouȝ hem al on rawe,
& slouȝ þe four kniȝtes radde,
& þi bodi to toun ladde,
To leche þi woundes ful fawe,
& he socourd þi fader in wer,
& halp þe boþe nere & fer
Þo þou was fallen ful lawe,
& now y slouȝ Berard þe strong.
Icham Gij; þou hast wrong:
Why wiltow me nouȝt knawe?’
226
When þerl herd him speke so,Wepen he gan wiþ eyȝen to,
& fel aswon to grounde.
‘For godes loue,’ he seyd, ‘merci!
Iuel at ese now am y,
In sorwe & care ful bounde.
Ful wele miȝt y knowe þe ar now:
In al þis warld was non bot þou
Oȝain Berard durst founde.
Merci, sir, par charite:
Þat ich haue misknowen þe,
Allas, allas þat stounde!’
227
Merci he crid on his kne:Boþe for sorwe & for pite
Wepen he bigan.
572
Þat whilom wer y-hosed ful wel:
More sorwe made neuer man.
Sir Gij went to him þo:
In his hert him was wo,
& in his armes vp him nam.
Atvix hem was gret diol in þat stounde:
Boþe þai fel aswon to grounde:
For sorwe þai wex al wan.
228
‘Tirri,’ seyd sir Gij þo,‘Þou schalt bileue, & y schal go:
Y biteche þe heuen king.
Bot ich haue a sone, y-wis,
Y not wheþer he kniȝt is,
For he is bot a ȝongling:
Ȝif he haue ani nede to þe,
Help him for þe loue of me,
Y pray þe, in al þing.
Ich hope he schal be a gode kniȝt:
Y pray Iesu ful of miȝt
He graunt him his blisceing.’
229
‘Merci, sir,’ þan seyd he,‘For godes loue, leue her stil wiþ me:
Y pray þe par amour.
Mi treuþe y pliȝt in þine hond,
Y schal þe sese in al mi lond,
Boþe in toun & tour.
Þi man y wil be & serue þe ay
Þer while mi liif lest may,
To hold vp þin honour.
& ȝif þou no wilt ichil wiþ þe go:
Y-wis, ichaue wele leuer so
Þan bileue wiþ þemperour.’
574
230
‘Do oway, sir Tirri: þer-of speke nouȝt;Al idel speche it is þi þouȝt.
Wende oȝain hom now riȝt,
& be nouȝt to prout, y þe rede:
To serue þi lord at al his nede
Þou proue wiþ þi miȝt.
Desirite no man of his lond:
Ȝif þou dost þou gos to schond;
Ful siker be þou, apliȝt.
For ȝiue þou reue a man his fe
Godes face schaltow neuer se,
No com in heuen liȝt.
231
Biþenke þe wele of douke Berard,Hou prout he was, for he was steward,
& flemed þe out of lond,
& he now desirite is,
Wiþ michel sorwe slayn, y-wis,
& schamelich driuen to schond.
Y schal gon, & þou bileue schalt:
Y biteche þe god, þat al þing walt,
& maked wiþ his hond.’
Þai kisten hem togider þo:
Oliue þai seyȝen hem neuer eft mo,
As þe gest doþ ous vnderstond.
232
Gret sorwe þai made at her parting,& kist hem wiþ eiȝe wepeing.
Þai wenten hem boþe atvo.
Als swiþe þerl Tirri went him hom,
Þre days he no ete mete non:
In hert him was ful wo;
& when þe countas, sikerly,
576
Þat þan was went hem fro,
Sche vpbreyd hir lord day & niȝt
Þat he no had holden him wiþ strengþe & miȝt,
& laten him nouȝt þennes go.
233
Now went Gij forþ in his wayToward þe see so swiþe he may;
For Tirri he siked sare.
Into schip he went biliue:
Ouer þe se he gan driue;
Into Inglond he gan fare.
Þe lond folk he axed anon
After king Aþelston,
In what cuntre he ware.
‘At Winchester, verrament,
& after his barouns he haþ sent
Boþe lasse & mare.
234
Erls, barouns, & bischopes,Kniȝtes, priours, & abbotes
At Winchester þai ben ichon,
& han puruayd, wiþ-outen lesing,
Þre days to ben in fasting,
To biseke god in tron
He sende hem þurch his swet sond
A man þat were douhti of hond
Oȝain Colbrond to gon.
Þer is þe king & þe barnage, y-wis,
For doute of her enemis,
Þat wayt hem for to slon.
235
For sir Anlaf, þe king of Danmark,Wiþ a nost store & stark
Into Inglond is come,
Wiþ fiften þousend kniȝtes of pris:
Alle þis lond þai stroyen, y-wis,
& mani a toun han nome.
A geaunt he haþ brouȝt wiþ him
578
Colbrond hat þat gome.
For him is al Inglond forlore
Bot godes help be bi-fore,
Þat socour sende hem some.
236
To þe king he haþ sent his sondFor to ȝeld him al Inglond,
& ȝif him trowage out-riȝt;
Ȝif he no wil nouȝt, finde a baroun,
A geaunt oþer a champioun,
Oȝain Colbrond to fiȝt.
& þer-of þai han taken a day,
Ac our king non finde may:
Erl, baroun, no kniȝt,
No squier, no seriaunt non
Oȝain þe geaunt dar gon:
So grim he is of siȝt.’
237
Þan seyd sir Gij, ‘whare i[s] Herhaud,Þat in his time was so bald?
& þai answerd ful swiþe,
‘To seche Gyes sone he is fare,
Þat marchaunce hadde stollen þare:
For him he was vnbliþe.’
‘& where is þerl Rohaut of pris?’
& þai answerd, ‘dede he is,
A gode while is go siþe;
& Feliis, his douhter, is his air:
So gode a leuedi no so fair,
Y-wis, nis non oliue.’
580
238
Gij went to Winchester a ful gode pas,Þer þe king þat time was,
To held his parlement.
Þe barouns weren in þe halle:
Þe king seyd, ‘lordinges alle,
Mine men ȝe ben, verrament.
Þerfore ich ax, wiþ-outen fayl,
Of þis Danis folk, wil ous aseyl.
Ich biseche ȝou wiþ gode entent,
For godes loue y pray ȝou,
Gode conseyl ȝiue me now,
Or elles we ben al schent.
239
For þe king of Danmark wiþ wrongWiþ his geaunt, þat is so strong,
He wil ous al schende.
Þerfore ich axi ȝou ichon,
What rede is best for to don?
Oȝaines hem for to wende?
Ȝif he ouercom ous in batayle
He wil slen ous alle, saunfeyle,
& strouen al our kende:
Þan schal Inglond euermo
Liue in þraldom & in wo
Vnto þe warldes ende.
582
240
Þerfore ich axi ȝou now riȝtȜif ȝe knowe our ani kniȝt
Þat is so stout & bold
Þat þe batayle dar take an hond,
To fiȝt oȝain Col-brond:
Half mi lond haue he schold
Wiþ alle þe borwes þat liþ þer-to
To him & to his aires euer-mo,
To haue ȝiue he wold.’
[S]til seten erls & barouns,
As men hadde schauen her crounes:
Nouȝt on answere nold.
241
‘Allas,’ seyd þe king, ‘þat y was born:Al mi ioie it is forlorn;
Wel wo is me oliue.
Now in al mi lond nis no kniȝt
Oȝains a geant to hold fiȝt:
Mine hert wil breken on fiue.
Allas, of Warwike sir Gij,
Y no hadde ȝeuen þe half mi lond frely,
To hold wiþouten striue!
Wele were me þan bifalle,
Ac, certes, now þe Danis men alle
To sorwe þai schul me driue.’
584
242
When it was niȝt to bedde þai ȝede:Þe king for sorwe & for drede
Wiþ teres wett his lere.
Of al þat niȝt he slepe riȝt nouȝt,
Bot euer Iesu he bisouȝt,
Þat was him leue & dere,
He schuld him sende þurch his sond
A man to fiȝt wiþ Colbrond,
Ȝif it is wille were;
& Iesus Crist ful of miȝt
He sent him a noble kniȝt,
As ȝe may forward here.
243
Þer cam an angel fram heuen liȝt,& seyd to þe king ful riȝt
Þurch grace of godes sond.
He seyd, ‘king Aþel-ston, slepestow?
Hider me sent þe king Iesu
To comfort þe to fond.
To-morwe go to þe norþ ȝate ful swiþe:
A pilgrim þou schalt se com biliue,
When þou hast a while stond.
586
Þat he take þe batayl for þe,
& he it wil nim on hond.’
244
Þan was þe king glad & bliþe.A-morwe he ros vp ful swiþe,
& went to þe gate ful riȝt;
Tvay erls went wiþ him þo,
& tvay bischopes dede also.
Þe weder was fair & briȝt.
Opon þe day about prime
Þe king seiȝe cum þe pilgrim.
Bi þe sclauayn he him pliȝt:
‘Pilgrim,’ he seyd, ‘y pray þe,
To court wende þou hom wiþ me,
& ostel þer al niȝt.’
245
‘Be stille, sir,’ seyd þe pilgrim:‘It is nouȝt ȝete time to take min in,
Al-so god me rede.’
Þe king him bisouȝt þo,
& þe lordinges dede also:
To court wiþ hem he ȝede.
‘Pilgrim,’ quaþ þe king, ‘par charite,
Ȝif it be þi wil, vnderstond to me:
Y schal schewe þe al our nede.
Þe king of Danmark wiþ gret wrong
Þurch a geaunt, þat is so strong,
Wil strou al our þede.
246
& whe han taken of him batayle,On what maner, saunfayle,
Y schal now tellen þe.
Þurch þe bodi of a kniȝt,
Oȝains þat geaunt to hold fiȝt,
Schal þis lond aquite be.
588
& þat for ous schadde his blod,
To bigge ous alle fre,
Take þe batayle now on hond,
& saue ous þe riȝt of Inglond,
For seynt Charite.’
247
‘Do way, leue sir,’ seyd Gij.‘Icham an old man, a feble bodi:
Mi strengþe is fro me fare.’
Þe king fel on knes to grounde,
& crid him merci in þat stounde,
Ȝif it his wille ware,
& þe barouns dede also:
O knes þai fellen alle þo
Wiþ sorwe & sikeing sare.
Sir Gij biheld þe lordinges alle,
& whiche sorwe hem was bi-falle:
Sir Gij hadde of hem care.
248
Sir Gij tok vp þe king anon,& bad þe lordinges euerichon
Þat þai schuld vp stond,
& seyd, ‘for god in trinite
& for to make Inglond fre,
Þe batayle y nim on hond.’
Þan was þe king ful glad & bliþe,
& þonked Gij a þousend siþe
& Iesu Cristes sond.
To þe king of Danmark he sent þan,
& seyd he hadde founden a man
To fiȝt for Inglond.
590
249
Þe Danismen busked hem ȝareInto batayle for to fare:
To fiȝt þai war wel fawe.
& Gij was armed swiþe wel
In a gode hauberk of stiel
Wrouȝt of þe best lawe.
An helme he hadde of michel miȝt
With a ce[r]cle of gold, þat schon briȝt,
Wiþ precious stones on rawe.
In þe frunt stode a char-bukel ston:
As briȝt as ani sonne it schon
Þat glemes vnder schawe.
250
On þat helme stode a flour:Wrouȝt it was of diuers colour;
Mirie it was to b[i]hold.
Trust & trewe was his ventayle,
Gloues, & gambisoun, & hosen of mayle
As gode kniȝt haue scholde.
Girt he was wiþ a gode brond
Wele kerueand, bi-forn his hond
A targe listed wiþ gold,
Portreyd wiþ þre kinges corn,
Þat present god when he was born:
Mirier was non on mold.
251
& a swift ernand stedeAl wrin þai dede him lede:
His tire it was ful gay.
592
Wiþ a gode glaiue in hond,
& priked him forþ his way,
&, when he com to þe plas
Þer þe batayl loked was,
Gij liȝt wiþ-outen delay,
& fel on knes doun in þat stede,
& to god he bad his bede,
He schuld ben his help þat day.
252
‘Lord,’ seyd Gij, ‘þat rered Lazeroun,& for man þoled passioun,
& on þe rode gan blede,
Þat saued Sussan fram þe feloun,
& halp Daniel fram þe lyoun,
To-day wisse me & rede:
Astow art miȝti heuen king,
To-day graunt me þi blisseing,
& help me at þis nede.
&, leuedi Mari ful of miȝt,
To-day saue Inglondes riȝt,
& leue me wele to spede.’
253
When þe folk was samned bi boþe side,Þe to kinges wiþ michel pride
After þe relikes þai sende,
Þe corporas, & þe messe gere:
On þe halidom þai gun swere
Wiþ wordes fre & hende.
Þe king of Danmarke swore furst, ywis,
Ȝif þat his geant slayn is,
To Danmarke he schal wende,
& neuer more Inglond cum wiþinne,
No non after him of his kinne
Vnto þe warldes ende.
254
Seþþen swore þe king Aþelston,594
Bi god þat al may weld,
Ȝif his man þer slayn be,
Or ouer-comen, þat men may se,
Recreaunt in þe feld,
His man he wil bicom an hond,
& alle þe reme of Inglond
Of him for to helde,
& hold him for lord & king,
Wiþ gold, & siluer, & oþer þing
Gret trowage him for to ȝelde.
255
When þai had sworn & ostage founde,Colbrond stirt vp in þat stounde:
To fiȝt he was ful felle.
He was so michel & so vnrede,
Þat non hors miȝt him lede,
In gest as y ȝou telle.
So mani he hadde of armes gere,
Vnneþe a cart miȝt hem bere,
Þe Inglisse for to quelle.
Swiche armour as he hadde opon,
Y-wis, no herd ȝe neuer non,
Bot as it ware a fende of helle.
256
Of mailes was nouȝt his hauberk:It was al of anoþer werk,
Þat meruail is to here.
Alle it were þicke splentes of stiel,
Þicke y-ioined strong & wel,
To kepe þat fendes fere.
Hossen he hadde also wele y-wrouȝt:
Oþer þan sp[l]entes was it nouȝt
Fram his fot to his swere.
He was so michel & so strong,
& þer-to so wonderliche long:
In þe world was non his pere.
257
An helme he hadde on his heued sett,596
Unsemly was his wede.
A targe he had wrouȝt ful wel
(Oþer metel was þer non on bot stiel),
A michel & vnrede.
Al his armour was blac as piche.
Wel foule he was & loþliche,
A grisely gom to fede.
Þe heiȝe king þat sitteþ on heiȝe,
Þat welt þis warld fer & neiȝe,
Made him wel iuel to spede.
258
A dart he bar in his hond kerueand,& his wepen about him stondand
Boþe bihinde & biforn,
Ax[e]s, & gisarmes scharp y-grounde,
& glaiues for to ȝiue wiþ wounde,
To hundred & mo þer worn.
Þe Inglis biheld him fast:
King Aþelston was sore agast,
Inglond he schuld haue lorn;
For, when Gij seiȝe þat wicked hert,
He nas neuer so sore aferd
Seþþen þat he was born.
259
Sir Gij lepe on his stede fot hot,& wiþ a spere, þat wele bot,
To him he gan to ride.
& he schet to Gij dartes þre:
Of þe tvay þan failed he,
Þe þridde he lete to him glide.
Þurch Gyes scheld it glod
& þurch his armour wiþouten abod
Bitvene his arme & side,
& quitelich into þe feld it ȝede
Þe mountaunce of an acre brede
Er þat it wald abide.
598
260
Sir Gij to him gan to driue,Þat his spere brast afiue
On his scheld þat was so bounde.
& Colbrond wiþ michel hete
On Gyes helme he wald haue smite,
& failed of him þat stounde:
Bitvix þe sadel & þe arsoun
Þe strok of þat feloun glod adoun
Wiþouten wem or wounde,
Þat sadel & hors atvo he smot,
Into þe erþe wele half a fot,
& Gij fel doun to grounde.
261
Sir Gij astite vp stirtAs man þat was agremed in hert:
His stede he hadde for-lore.
On his helme he wald hit him þo,
Ac he no miȝt nouȝt reche þerto
Bi to fot & ȝete more,
Bot on his schulder þe swerd fel doun,
& carf boþe plates & hauberioun
Wiþ his grimli gore.
Þurch al his armour stern & strong
He made him a wounde a spanne long,
Þat greued him ful sore.
262
Colbrond was sore aschame,& smot Gij wiþ michel grame:
On his helm he hit him þo,
Þat his floures euer-ichon
& his gode charbukel ston
Wel euen he carf atvo:
600
Þat it fleyȝe into þe feld.
When Gij seyȝe it was so,
Þat he hadde his scheld forlorn,
Half bihinde & half biforn,
In hert him was wel wo.
263
& Gij hent his swerd an hond,& heteliche smot to Colbrond:
As a child he stode him vnder.
Opon þe scheld he ȝaue him swiche a dent,
Bifor þe stroke þe fiir out went,
As it were liȝt of þonder.
Þe bondes of stiel he carf ichon,
& in-to þe scheld a fot & half on
Wiþ his swerd he smot asunder.
& wiþ þe out-braiding his swerd brast:
Þei Gij were þan sore agast
It was litel wonder.
264
Þo was Gij sore desmayd,& in his hert wel iuel y-payd,
For þe chaunce him was bifalle,
& for he hadde lorn his gode brond
& his stede opon þe sond.
To our leuedi he gan calle.
Þan gun þe Danis ost
Ich puken oþer & make bost,
& seyd among hem alle,
‘Now schal þe Inglis be slain in feld.
Gret trouage Inglond schal ous ȝeld,
& euermore ben our þral.’
265
‘Now, sir kniȝt,’ seyd Colbrond,‘Þou hast lorn þi swerd in þine hond,
Þi scheld, & eke þi stede.
Do now wele, ȝeld þe to me,
& smertlich vnarme þe:
Cri merci, y þe rede;
602
Þou durst oȝain me held fiȝt,
To mi lord y schal þe lede,
& wiþ him þou schalt acorded be:
In his court he wil hold þe,
& finde þat þe is nede.’
266
‘Do way,’ seyd Gij, ‘þerof speke nouȝt.Bi him þat al þis world haþ wrouȝt,
Ich hadde leuer þou were an-hong!
Ac þou hast armes gret plente:
Y-wis, þou most lene me
On of þine axes strong.’
Colbrond swore bi Apolin,
‘Of al þe wepen þat is min
Her schaltow non afong.
Now þou wilt nouȝt do bi mi rede,
Þou schalt dye on iuel dede,
Er þat it be ouȝt long.’
267
When Gij herd him speke so,Al sone he gan him turn þo,
& to his wepen he geþ.
Þer his axes stoden bi hem-selue,
He kept on wiþ a wel gode helue,
Þe best him þouȝt he seþ.
To Colbron[d] oȝain he ran,
& seyd, ‘traitour,’ to him þan,
‘Þou schalt han iuel deþ.
Now ich haue of þi wepen plente,
Where-wiþ þat y may were me
Riȝt maugre al þin teþ.’
604
268
Colbrond þan wiþ michel heteOn Gyes helme he wald haue smite
Wiþ wel gret hert tene,
Ac he failed of his dint,
& þe swerd into þe erþe went
A fot & more, y wene,
& wiþ Colbrondes out-drauȝt
Sir Gij wiþ ax a strok him rauȝt,
A wounde þat was wele sene.
So smertliche he smot to Colbrond,
Þat his riȝt arme wiþ alle þe hond
He strok of quite & clene.
269
When Colbrond feld him so smite,He was wel wroþ, ȝe may wel wite:
He gan his swerd vp fond,
& in his left hond op it haf,
& Gij in þe nek a strok him ȝaf
As he [gan] stoupe for þe brond,
Þat his heued fro þe bodi he smot,
& into þe erþe half a fot:
Þurch grace of godes sond
Ded he feld þe glotoun þare.
Þe Denis wiþ sorwe & care
Þai diȝt hem out of lond.
270
Bliþe were þe Inglis men ichon:Erls, barouns, & king Aþelston
Þai toke sir Gij þat tide,
& ladde him to Winchester toun
606
Ouer al bi ich a side.
For ioie belles þai gun ring,
‘Te deum laudamus’ þai gun sing,
& play, & michel pride.
Sir Gij vnarmed him, & was ful bliþe:
His sclauain he axed also swiþe:
No lenger he nold abide.
271
‘Sir pilgrim,’ þan seyd þe king,‘Whennes þou art, wiþouten lesing,
Þou art douhti of dede;
For þurch douhtines of þin hond
Þou hast saued al Inglond:
God quite þe þi mede,
& mi treuþe y schal pliȝt þe,
So wele y schal feffe þe
Boþe in lond & lede,
Þat of riches in toun & tour
Þou schalt be man of mest honour
Þat woneþ in al mi þede.’
272
‘Sir king,’ seyd þe pilgrim,‘Of alle þe lond þat is tin
Y no kepe þerof na mare;
Bot, now ichaue þe geant slain
(Þerof, y-wis, icham ful fain),
Mi way ichil forþ fare.’
‘Merci, sir,’ þe king seyd þan,
‘Tel me, for him þat made man
(For noþing þou ne spare),
Tel me what þi name it be,
Whennes þou art, & of what cuntre,
Or y schal dye for care.’
608
273
‘Sir king,’ he seyd, ‘y schal tel it þe:What mi riȝt name it be
Þou schalt witen anon,
Ac þou schalt go wiþ me y-fere,
Þat noman of our conseyl here,
Bot þou & y alon.’
Þe king him graunted & was bliþe:
He comand his folk al so swiþe
No wiȝt wiþ him to gon.
Out of þe toun þan went he
Wele half a mile fram þat cite,
& þer made Gij his mon.
274
‘Sir king,’ seyd Gij, ‘vnderstond to me:O þing y schal now pray þe,
Astow art curteys and hende,
Ȝif y mi name schal þe sayn,
Þat to noman þou no schalt me wrayn,
To þis ȝere com to þende.
Gij of Warwike mi nam is riȝt:
Whilom y was þine owhen kniȝt,
& held me for þi frende;
& now icham swiche astow may see.
God of heuen biteche y þe:
Mi way y wil forþ wende.’
275
When þe king seiȝe, sikerly,Þat it was þe gode Gij
Þat fro him wald his way,
On knes he fel adoun to grounde:
‘Leue sir Gij,’ in þat stounde,
‘Merci,’ he gan to say.
‘For godes loue, bi-leue wiþ me,
& mi treuthe y schal pliȝt þe,
Þat y schal þis day
Sese & ȝiue in-to þine hond
Half þe reme of Inglond.
For godes loue, say nouȝt nay.’
610
276
‘Sir king,’ seyd Gij, ‘y nil nouȝt so.Haue þou þi lond for euer-mo,
& god y þe bi-teche.
Ac, ȝif Herhaud to þis lond com,
& bring wiþ him Reynbroun, mi sone,
Help him, y þe biseche;
For þai er boþe hende & fre.
On Herhaud þou miȝt trust þe
To take of þine fon wreche.’
Þai kisten hem togider þo:
Al wepeand þai wenten ato
Wiþouten ani more speche.
277
Þe king wel sore wepe for pite,& went him hom to his meyne
Wiþ a mournand chere.
His folk oȝaines him gan gon,
& asked þe king sone anon
What man þe pilgrim were.
Þai seyd, ‘he is a douhti kniȝt:
Wald Iesu ful of miȝt
He wald leue wiþ ous here.’
Þe king seyd, ‘al stille ȝe be:
What he is ȝour non schal wite for me,
I-wis, of al þis ȝere.’
278
Sir Gij went in his way forþ riȝt,Oft he þonked god almiȝt
Þat þe geaunt was slawe.
To Warwike he went, to þat cite
Þer he was lord of þat cuntre
To hold wiþ riȝt lawe.
He nas knowen þer of no man,
When he to þe castel ȝates cam:
Þerof he was ful fawe.
Among þe pouer men he him dede
Þer þai weren vp in a stede,
& sett him on a rawe.
611
279
& Feliis þe countas was þer þan:In þis warld was non better wiman,
In gest as-so we rede;
For þritten pouer men & ȝete mo
For hir lordes loue sche loued so
Ich day sche gan fede,
Wiþ þan god & our leuedi
Schuld saue hir lord sir Gij,
& help him at his nede.
Sche no stint noiþer day no niȝt,
For him sche bisouȝt god almiȝt
Wiþ bedes & almos dede.
280
On a day þe leuedi went to mete,& bad men schuld biforn hir fete
Hir pouer men al biden,
& men brouȝt hem euerichon,
& Gij of Warwike was þat on
Of þo ich þritten.
In his hert he hadde gret care,
Þat he schuld be knawen þare
Of hem þat hadde him sen,
Ac þer was non so wise of siȝt
Þat him þer knowe miȝt:
So misais he was & lene.
281
Þe leuedi biheld him inliche,Hou mesays he was, sikerliche.
Curteys sche was & hende:
Of euerich mete, of euerich d[r]ing
Þat sche ete of herself, wiþouten lesing,
Sche was him ful mende;
Of hir bere & of hir wine
In hir gold coupe afine
Oft sche gan him sende,
& bad him ich day com he schold:
Mete & drink sche finde him wold
Vnto his liues ende.
612
282
Sir [Gij] þonked þat leuedi oft,Bot alle anoþer was his þouȝt
Þan he wald to hir say.
When þe grace were y-seyd,
& þe bordes adoun layd,
Out of toun he went his way.
Into a forest wenden he gan
To an hermite he knewe er þan,
To speke him ȝif he may.
&, when he þider comen was,
Þe gode hermite þurch godes grace
Was dede & loken in clay.
283
Þan þouȝt sir Gij anonÞat wald he neuer þennes gon
Þer whiles he war oliue.
Wiþ a prest he spac of þat cuntray
Þat dede him seruise ich day,
& of his sinnes gan schriue.
Wiþ him he hadde þer a page
Þat serued him in þat hermitage
Wiþouten chest & striue.
No lenger was he liues þere
Bot niȝen moneþes of a ȝere,
As ȝe may listen & liþe.
284
In slepe as Gij lay aniȝt,God sent an angel briȝt
Fram heuen to him þare.
‘Gij,’ seyd þe angel, ‘slepestow?
Hider me sent þe king Iesu
To bid þe make þe ȝare;
For bi þe eiȝtenday at morwe
He schal deliuer þe out of þi sorwe,
Out of þis warld to fare.
To heuen þou schalt com him to,
& liue wiþ ous euer-mo
In ioie wiþouten care.’
614
285
When Gij was waked of þat drem,Of an angel he seiȝe a glem:
‘What artow?’ þan seyd he.
Þe angel answerd, ‘fram heuen y cam:
Miȝhel is mi riȝt nam.
God sent me to þe
To bid þe make þe redi way:
Bi þe eiȝtenday þou schalt day,
Wel siker mauȝtow be.
& y schal feche þi soule ful euen,
& bere it to þe þlis of heuen
Wiþ grete solempnete.’
286
Þe angel goþ forþ, & Gij bileft stille:His bedes he bad wiþ gode wille
To Iesu heuen king,
& when his term was nere gon
His knaue he cleped to him anon,
& seyd, wiþouten lesing,
‘Sone,’ he seyd, ‘y pray now þe,
Go to Warwike þat cite
Wiþ-outen more duelling,
& when þou comest þer, y þe biseche,
Gret wele þe countas wiþ þi speche,
& take hir þis gold ring.
287
& say þe pilgrim hat hir biforn,Þat hir mete was to born,
On þe pouer mannes rawe,
Gret hir wele in al þing,
& sende to hir þis gold ring,
Ȝif þat sche wil it knawe.
Als son as sche haþ þer-of a siȝt,
Sche wil it knawe anon riȝt,
& be þerof ful fawe.
Þan wil sche ax ware y be:
Leue sone, for loue of me
Þe soþe to hir þou schawe,
616
288
& say icham for godes loueIn þe forest hermite bicome,
Mine sinnes for to bete,
& bid hir for þe loue of me
Þat sche com hider wiþ þe:
For no þing sche no lete.
& when ȝe com ȝe finde me dede:
Do me neuer hennes lede,
Bot graue me here in grete.
& after sche schal dye, y-wis,
& com to me in-to heuen blis,
Þer ioies her ful swete.’
289
Þe knaue went forþ anon,In-to Warwike he gan gon
Bifor þat leuedi fre,
&, when he hadde þat leuedi founde,
On knes he fel adoun to grounde,
& seyd, ‘listen to me:
Þe pilgrim þat ete þe biforn,
Þat þi mete was to born,
An hermite now is he.
He greteþ þe wele in al þing,
& sent þe þis gold ring
In sum tokening to be.’
290
Þe leuedi tok þat ring anhond,& loked þeron & gan wiþstond,
Þe letters for to rede.
‘Ow, certes,’ quaþ þe leuedi,
‘Þis ring y ȝaf mi lord sir Gij,
When he fro me ȝede.’
618
& when þat sche arisen is
To þe knaue sche gan spede.
‘Leue sone,’ sche seyd, ‘y pray þe,
Wher is þat pilgrim? telle þou me,
& gold schal be þi mede.’
291
‘Madame,’ seyd þe knaue ful skete,‘In þe forest ichim lete:
Riȝt now y com him fro.
He is ner ded in þe hermitage:
On his halue y make þe message;
Y-wis, he bad me so,
& bad þou schust to him come
For þat ich trewe loue
Þat was bitvene ȝou tvo.
Do him neuer lede oway,
Bot biri him riȝt þer in clay.
Oliue sestow him no mo.’
292
Þe leuedi was glad of þat tiding,& þonked Iesu heuen king,
& was in hert ful bliþe
Þat sche schuld sen hir lord sir Gij;
Ac for o þing sche was sori,
Þat he schuld dye so swiþe.
Þai made hem redi for to wende
Wiþ kniȝtes & wiþ leuedis hende:
On a mule þai sett hir siþe,
& wiþ al þe best of þat cite
To þermitage went sche,
As ȝe may listen & liþe.
293
To þermitage when þai com,Þer þai liȝt al & some,
& in sche went wel euen.
When þat sche seiȝe hir lord sir Gij,
Sche wept & made doleful cri
Wiþ a ful reweful steuen.
620
His soule fram þe bodi gan fare.
A þousand angels & seuen
Vnder-fenge þe soule of Gij,
& bar it wiþ gret molodi
Into þe blis of heuen.
294
Þan was þat leuedi ful of care,For hir lord was fram hir fare:
‘Allas’ it was hir song.
Sche kist his mouþe, his chin also,
& wepe wiþ hir eiȝen to,
& hir hondes sche wrong.
Gret honour dede our lord for Gij:
A swete braþe com fram his bodi,
Þat last þat day so long,
Þat in þis world spices alle
No miȝt cast a swetter smalle
As þen was hem among.
295
Þe leudy astite dede send hir sondAfter bischopes, abotes of þe lond,
Þe best þat miȝt be founde,
&, when þider was com þat fair ferred,
To Warwike þai wald him lede,
As lord of michel mounde.
Bot al þe folk þat þer was
622
Þer he lay on þe grounde.
An hundred men about him were,
No miȝt him nouȝt þennes bere
For heuihed þat stounde.
624
296
Þan seyd þe leuedi, ‘lete him be stille,Neuer more remoun him y nille,
No do him hennes lede.
He sent me bode wiþ his page
To biri him in þis hermitage
Simpliche wiþouten prede.’
Þay tok a þrouȝ of marbel ston,
& leyd his bodi þer-in anon
Atird in kniȝtes wede.
Fair seruise þan was þare
Of bischopes, abbotes þat þer ware,
& clerkes to sing & rede.
297
When þai hadde birid his bodi, anonÞe gret lordinges euerichon
Hom þai gun wende,
Ac þe leuedi left stille þare:
Sche nold neuer þennes fare;
Sche kidde þat sche was kende.
Sche liued no lenger, soþe to say,
626
Sche dyed þat leuedi hende,
& was birid hir lord by;
& now þai er togider in compeynie
In ioie þat neuer schal ende.
298
When sir Tirri herd telle þis,Þat Gij, his fere, ded is,
& birid in þe clay,
He com to þis lond, wiþ-outen lesing,
& bisouȝt Aþelston þe king
His bodi to leden oway.
He it graunted him ful ȝare,
628
Into his owhen cuntray.
An abbay he lete make þo
For to sing for hem to
Euermore til domesday.
299
Now haue ȝe herd, lordinges, of Gij,Þat in his time was so hardi,
& holden hende & fre,
& euer he loued treuþe & riȝt,
& serued god wiþ al his miȝt,
Þat sit in trinite,
& þer-fore at his ending day
He went to þe ioie þat lasteþ ay,
& euer-more schal be.
Now god leue ous to liue so,
Þat we may þat ioie com to.
Amen, par charite.
Explicit.
631
Reinbrun, Gij sone of Warwike.
1
Iesu, þat ert of miȝte most,Fader, & sone, & holy gost,
Ich bidde þe a bone:
Ase þow ert lord of our ginning,
& madest heuene and alle þing,
Se, and sonne, and mone,
Ȝeue hem grace wel to spede
Þat herkneþ what y schel rede,
Iesu, god in trone.
Of a kniȝt was to batayle boun,
Sire Gij is sone, þat hiȝte Rey[n]broun,
Of him y make my mone.
2
His fader Gij, þat him get,He was a werrour swiþe gret:
Þar nas nowhar his per
In Fraunce, in Pycardy,
In Spayne, in Lombardy,
Neyþer fer ne ner.
Mani batayle he be-gan
For þe loue of o wimman
Þat was him lef & dere.
Siþe Rey[n]broun on hire he wan,
Þat was a swiþe douȝti man,
Ase ȝe may forþward here.
632
3
Þay were togedre fifti niȝt,After a spusede þat swete wiȝt
Wiþ meche melody.
Þanne was be-ȝete þat baroun,
His sone þat was cleped Rey[n]broun,
Of þat kniȝt sire Gij.
Fourti wikes wiþ child ȝhe was
& dilyured þourȝ [godes] gras
And is moder Mari.
Cristned hit was werschipliche:
Reinbroun men calde him, sikerliche,
For-soþe and nouȝt ne lye.
4
Heraud hadde þat child to loreSeue winter and wel more:
Ful wel he gan him lere.
Be þat he was seue winter old,
He was a fair child and a bold,
And of swete chere.
So hit befel þat of fer lond
Marchauns riche, ich vnder-stond,
Hider þai come were:
Gold and seluer þai brouȝte meche,
Badekenes and pane riche,
Gris and menyuer,
5
Bras, maslyn, yren, & stel,Wod-wex, selk, and cendel,
Gingiuer and galingale,
Clowes, quibibes, gren de Paris,
Pyper, and comyn, and swet anis,
Mani a riche bale,
Fykes, reisyn, dates,
Almaund, rys, pomme-garnates,
Kanel and setewale,
Scarlet and grene wel y-wrouȝt:
More richesse wiþ hem hii brouȝt
Þan y can tellen in tale.
633
6
Þai riuede at Londen þat cite:King Aþelstond þan fonden he,
Þat her was king wiþ croune.
A ȝaf hem leue in alle wise
To wende wiþ her marchaundise
In is londe fro toun to toune.
To Walingforde þai gonne fare:
A strong bourȝ þai fonde þare
(Þai boskede & made hem boune),
Ac it was strued, wiþ-outen lesing,
For werre of Heraud & þe king:
Hit was niȝ brouȝt adoun.
7
Þe marchauns kedde hii wer fre:A Spayniis mvle than token he,
To Heraud hii [hit] sende.
For he was lord of þat cite,
Wiþ him hii þouȝte wel to be:
So þai han him kende.
Sire Heraud, for soþ to say,
Bad hem ete wiþ him þat day,
Er hij þannes wende.
Þe marchauns seie þe child goand
In þe halle faire pleiande,
Þat was so faire and hende.
8
At a kniȝt hii askede anon riȝtWhas was þo child so faire of siȝt
And of swete chere,
And he answerde anon, y pliȝt,
‘Hit is Gij is sone, þe gode kniȝt,
Þat Heraud haþ to lere.’
Þe marchauns hem beþouȝte,
Ȝif hii þat child haue mouȝte,
Hii wolde stele him þere;
&, ȝif hii hadde þat child bolde,
Richely in-to her londe þai wolde,
And selle hit full dere.
634
9
Wiþ þe porter þai speke stille,Þat hii hadden al her wille.
Þai ȝeue him riche mede:
He betauȝte hem þe child þare,
And into schip þai gonne fare;
Away þai gonne him lede.
Þay gonne saily toward Roussy:
Al glad hii were þet londe to sy;
Hii þouȝte wel to spede.
Al siker hii were alond te gon,
Ac swiche a strom hem cam upon,
Þat sore hem gonne drede.
10
Þe wind began to blowen loude,Þe elmence þikkede on þe cloude:
Gret strom hem wex vpon.
Þe four wyndes began to blowe,
Þe se gan tornen & to þrowe:
Ded hii wende haue ben echon.
Here ropes to-borsten, her mast also:
Þar nas non þat him nas wo;
Hii made reuful mon.
To Iesu Crist þai gonne crye
And to his moder Marie:
Nas þer no beter won.
11
Þe wind faire slake gan:Mery in þe se þe schip ran.
Ase god hit wolde
Þai wer driuen al þe niȝt:
In Aufrik þai riuede riȝt;
Þai toke a wel gode holde.
Þe marchauns han it vnder-nome,
Þat hii beþ into Aufrik come:
Hii þouȝte þat hii wolde
Þe king of þe lond presenti
Wiþ þat child þat was so fry
And of chere bolde.
635
12
Of hem hii token marchauns þreÞat noble were, curteis, & fre,
Wiþoute more duelling:
Þai toke þat child, veraiment,
And made þerwiþ a present
To Arguus þe king.
Þe king hadde a douȝter fair:
Of al Aufrik ȝhe was air,
A swiþe fair ȝonling.
Meche ȝhe kouþe of menstralcie,
Of harpe, of fiþele, of sautri,
Of romaunce reding.
13
So was Reynbroun, for soþ to say,Meche liche þat faire may
Of semlaunt and of chere.
Besouȝt ȝhe haþ be hir moder rede,
& to hire fader king ȝhe sede,
‘Leue, fader dere,
Y mote him in me chaumber norsy:
Ȝet a may me seruy;
Norture y schel him lere.’
Þe king him graunted þourȝ alle þing,
For he hire louede wiþ-oute lesing,
To ben hire plaie-fere.
14
Whan sire Heraud parseued wasÞe child was stole, for þat cas
Gret sorwe he gan make.
He let seche him in þat cite:
Mani man made gret pite
For þat childes sake.
Wiþ mesagers a sente is sonde
To seche him in mani londe
Ȝif hii him miȝte of-take;
&, whan hii him finde ne miȝte,
Sorwe hii made day & niȝte:
For drede þai gonne quake.
636
15
Hit nas nouȝt longe after þan,Þat in Londen held king Aþelstan
A riel parlement.
Sire Heraud þeder gan gon:
Þe king a werschipede & mani on,
Whan he was þeder y-went.
Oþer hadde þer-of envie,
And þouȝte hii wolde on him lye,
Þat a wer y-schent,
& segge he hadde Reinbroun sold
For is wiȝte of rede gold
To þe marchauns, verayment.
16
‘Lordinges,’ seide þe king y-core,‘Al ȝe ben to me y-swore
For helpe me at nede.
Ȝour consaile wite y welle.
Wel ȝe witen ȝe han herd telle
Ase ȝour eldren sede,
Þat þe king of Denemark
Þourȝ a geaunt stor & stark
Kalaungeþ al oure þede.
A gret ost he haþ y-nome
& ȝif he may vs ouercome
He makeþ our sides blede.’
17
‘Sire,’ queþ Heraud, ‘þarf þe no drede:Þourȝ godes help we scholle wel spede
Þei he vs wile asaile.
Gode kniȝtes ȝe han & cite stro[n]g:
Ȝif ȝe him douteþ it is wrong
For al is grete taile.
Myn eldren seide, ich vnder-stonde,
Þe Dennisch men hadde riȝt in þis londe,
Wiþ-outen eni faile,
Whilom, & nouȝt ful ȝore it is,
& siþþe þai han it lore, y-wis,
And here folk in bataile.
637
18
Now þai han loren here riȝt:Hii weren ouercomen in fiȝt
Þourȝ help of god almiȝte.
Þarfore ensemle þe barouns
Þat haþ þe toures & þe tounes
Before þe an hiȝte.
At what hauen þai alende,
Ase tit aȝen hem we scholle wende
Wiþ hors and armes briȝte.
& ȝif a comeþ in þis londe, y-wis,
We scholle sle him & alle his:
So wel we scholle fiȝte.’
19
Þanne seide þe king, ‘þow hast wel sed:Þou hast red me a gode red;
Y-blessed mote þow be.
A beter rede ne wot y non:
Ase þow hast seid so y schel don,
Also mote ich þe.
Þow ert me beste consailer:
In al þis lond þer nis þe per
Þat ich mowe y-se.
Al þe while icham coren king,
Don ich wile be þe teching,
Sire Heraud þe fre.’
20
Þe duk Medyok vp aras:Of al Cornewaile lord he was,
A sterne kniȝt & a grim.
‘Sire king,’ a seide, ‘herkne to me.
Þow ert nouȝt wis ase þe holdest þe,
Whan þow leuest on him.
Þow werschepest him fer & ner,
And he nis boute a losenger
Ful of tresoun [and] gin.
Beter we beþ to þe consaile
Þanne þe treitour, wiþ-outen faile,
Be god and seinte Martyn.
638
21
His gode lord traye he ganÞat þourȝ him he was maked man,
Of Warwik sire Gij:
Euel he haþ is while ȝolde,
Whan he Reinbroun, is sone, solde
To þe marchauns of Roussy:
For gold & seluer gret plente
To þe marchauns diliurede he,
Ase we gonne aspie.
& ȝif he hadde þe riȝte lawe
A scholde ben hanged & drawe
For þat trecherie.’
22
Þo Heraud herde him speke so,Him þouȝte his herte barst ato:
Vp he sterte an hye.
‘Felawe duk,’ a seide, ‘þow lyxst,
Whan þow wiþ tresoun me betwyxst:
Þow dost me vileynie.
Þow hit schelt to soþe bringe
Þat þow hast seid be-fore þe kinge,
Or þow schelt abye.
Hasteliche now arme þe:
Anon it schel proued be,
Þat þow dost on me lye.
23
Ich wile þat y ben hanged & draweBoute y defende me wiþ þe lawe
Of þis famacioun,
Þat þow seist y scholde selle
Me lordes sone þat ich of telle,
Þat men clepede Reinbroun.
Whan ich þe soþe parseued hadde,
Þe marchauns him hadde wei ladde
Me of-þouȝte þat tresoun.
Wiþ mesagers y sente me sonde
To seche him in mani londe:
Þow lyxst on me, feloun.
639
24
Before þe king i say þe riȝt,Þar-to me treuþe y þe pliȝt:
To seche him y schel fonde
In Fraunce, in Lombardie,
In Spayne, in Spir, in Roussie,
In mani an honkouþ londe.
Betwene þis and þe lond of Ynde
Ȝif a be, y schel him fynde,
And bringe him to honde.
& whan ichaue so y-do
Þin heued y schel smite þe fro:
For no man nel ich wonde.’
25
‘Pes, feloun,’ queþ [þ]erl of Cornewayle,‘Al þe lesing schel þe nouȝt vaile:
Traytour þow worst holde.’
Þat herde anoþer kniȝt:
Egar a het, forsoþ apliȝt,
Heraud is man y-tolde.
His steward, for-soþ, he was:
He sterte vp in þat plas,
And to the duk a wolde.
‘Felawe duk,‘ a seide, ‘þow lixst,
Whan þow me lorde be-twixst
Þat he Reinbroun solde.
26
Fif hondred siþe haue þow maugreOf Iesu, þat sit in trinite,
Iesu ful of miȝt,
Boute þow swiþe arme þe,
& do þe bataile aȝenes me,
And proue it ariȝt.’
Þar hii hadde togedres smite,
Nadde þe king hit vnder-ȝite,
& departede hem an hiȝt.
He bad hem lete be þat fare,
& besouȝte hem to make hem ȝare
Aȝenes þe Dennisch king to fiȝt.
640
27
Heraud wiþ is ferde freWente to Walingford þat cite
Ful of sorwe and care.
‘Egar,’ a seide, ‘þow schelt be-leue,
& kepe þis land to me be-heue,
And forþ ich wile fare,
Til ich Reynbroun finde may:
Y ne schel reste niȝt ne day,
Til ich wite whar he ware.
Ac war þe fro þerl of Cornewayle:
He wile arere on þe batayle;
He nele þe noþing spare.’
28
‘Sire,’ queþ Egar, ‘we scholle vs were,Þat he ne schel vs noþing dere,
Þei he vs wile agreue.’
Heraud went out of þat cite:
For him was maked gret pite,
Whan he tok his leue.
Hasteliche to schip a wente,
Gode wind and weder god him sente:
In Denemark þai gonne riue.
In Fraunce, in Lombardie,
In Spayne, in Spyr, in Roussie
Reynbroun a souȝte bliue.
29
Þourȝ mani londes þai him souȝte:Whan hii miȝte finde nouȝte,
To schip þai gonne fare.
To Costantin noble hii wolde wende:
Swiche a tempest god hem gan sende,
Þat hii come nouȝt þare.
Þai were driue wiþ-oute þe toun:
In Aufrik þai riuede soune.
Þanne wer þai ful of care.
Þe cite on þe riuage hii sye,
Meche & wide, & walles hye:
Of blisse þai wer al bare.
641
30
‘O god,’ seide þe meister þo,‘Gret mishap is come vs to:
Our lif y telle y-lore.
In Aufrik we ben, wiþ-outen lesing,
Upon Arguus lond þe king:
Worsse man nas neuer bore.
Al þat leueþ in godes lawe
A wile hem hongen & to-drawe:
His oþ he haþ y-swore.
Al for-soþe, we beþ dede,
Boute god vs helpe at our nede,
Þat was of Marie bore.’
31
Heraud seide, ‘whas is þis cite?Distrued it is, so þenkeþ me:
Her haþ be strong bataile.’
Þe maroner seide, ‘y þe telle
For soþe, sire, lye i nelle:
Wiþouten eni faile,
Hit is þemerailes Parsan:
In þis world nis þer worsse man
Cristene men to asaile.’
Þe Sarazins come wiþ þis,
& nemeþ Heraud & alle his,
And distrueþ is vitaile.
32
Þai nomen Heraud & al is man,And brouȝte hem before Parsan,
Þat was of gret power.
He let hem caste in prisoun
Stinkande & þerk, wel fer adoun,
For þai cristen were.
Lite þai ete & dronke, ywis:
Vnneþe her lif sostened is;
To god he made his prayere.
For Reynbroun him was ful wo,
For he neste whider he was go:
He made reuly chere.
642
33
‘O,’ seide [he], ‘allas, allas!In werre douȝti man y was,
And now icham for-lore.’
On of þe gaylers herde þis:
To þemeraile a wente, y-wis,
And gan him telle fore:
‘Sire,’ a seide, ‘wite nouȝt ȝe
Of a prisoun ȝe han in ȝour pouste,
A noble man y-kore?
A is wel douȝti in bataile
[OMITTED]
Ase icham to ȝou swore.’
34
Queþ þemeraile, ‘bringe him forþ now.Ȝif he be swich ase seistow,
Meche helpe me a miȝte.’
Þe gayler wente aȝen anon,
& to þe prisoun he gan gon,
And Heraud vp atwiȝte.
In a sklauin he gan him folde.
Swiþe meche a was be-holde
Of mani a douȝti kniȝte.
His berde was to is brest y-wax,
To his gerder heng is fax:
Grisliche he was of siȝte.
35
Before þemeraile hii gan him lede,& a-reisoned him in ech a side,
‘Man, what is þe name?
Whar wer þow bore (tel me now),
Þat so meche of werre canstow?
Of þe ichaue game.
Ich, ameraile Parsan,
Icham a swiþe douȝti man:
Wide springeþ me fame.
Miȝte [y] of þe siker be,
Þat þou woldest serue me,
Ne schostow haue no schame.’
643
36
He answerde, ‘leue lord,To þe ich wile bere rekord,
And telle y wile þe:
Heraud, for-soþ, me nam is
(In grete dede ichaue be er þis),
So men clepeþ me.
Ȝif me stringþe wer aȝen i-come
Þat ichaue lore in þe prisone,
Ich wer of gret pouste.
Find me stede gode & liȝt,
Spere, & scheld, & armes briȝt:
Þe man wile ich be.’
37
Queþ þemeraile, ‘wolcome, ywis!Þow schelt haue þat þe nede is,
Briȝt armur & stede.
Ingliis þow ert, sikerly:
Knew þow ouȝt þe gode Gij,
Þat douȝti wes of dede?’
Heraud seide, ‘y knew him wel:
His man icham & euer be schel.
He was tauȝt me to fede.
His sone was stolen him fro:
To seche him icham y-go,
Ȝif god me wolde spede.’
38
Þemeraile cleped is chaumborlain,And bad him wiþ al is mayn
Heraud to him take.
In pourpre pal þei gan him schrede,
& founde him al þat was nede,
And baþes let him make.
On a day sire ameraile
Tok Heraud in consaile
Wiþ-oute þe castel gate:
‘Now Arguus king werreþ on me,
Me nis leued boute þis cite
For grete werre & hate.
644
39
Þe king haþ a kniȝt wiþ himSterne in bataile & swiþe grim:
Of swich þow neuer herd.
In þis world nis man, sikerly,
Boute hit wer þe lord sire Gij,
Þat of him nolde ben aferd.
Miȝtest of him awreke me,
A noble prins þan schostow be,
& sle him wiþ dent of swerd.’
Heraud seide, ‘so y schel do,
Ȝif god wile helpe me þerto,
Be min hore berd.’
40
Wiþ þat com a mesagere bold,To þemeraile he haþ y-told
Swiþe hard tiding:
King Arguus stiward wiþ-outen let
On of is castels hadde be-set,
Wiþouten eni lesing.
Whan þemeraile herde þis,
He bad is stiward, for-soþ y-wis,
His folk be-fore him bringe.
So a dede riȝt anon,
& bad hem bosken euerichon
Al boun to batailinge.
41
Heraud lep on a rabyteÞat was meche, & noþing lite,
Rod out of þe toun.
Þat ost him siwede fair & wel,
Til hii come to þe castel
Wiþ spere and gounfanoun,
Wiþ helm on heued & brinie briȝt.
Iyren-wrye mani a kniȝt
To bataile wer þai boun.
Ayþer ost gan oþer asaile:
Ech man fondede, wiþouten faile,
To felle is foman adoun.
645
42
Heraud a Sarazin smot,Þat he fel doun fot hot
Dede of is stede.
Þe þredde, þe ferþe þat he mai hitte—
No man miȝte his strok wiþ-sitte.
For wreþþe a wolde a-wede.
Wiþ is swerd of meche pris
Mani Sarazin a slouȝ, y-wis,
And made here sides blede.
Þe Sarazins seide hit was a fend
Þe deuel hadde þeder i-sent
Þemeraile to spede.
43
Þe king hadde a Sarazin,His stiward, þat seruede Apolyn:
Heraud he gan þrete.
Heraud he mete & is men echon:
Hard þai hewe to-gedre anon,
And delde dentes grete.
Þe stiward was sconfited þere,
Abated was þe meister banere:
To fle þai nolde lete.
Heraud siwede him on a rabyte:
Hard hii gonne to-gedre smite
Sterne strokes and grete.
44
Here scheftes schiurede, scheldes flitte,Brenyes barsten, hauberk ritte:
Þar was strong bataile.
Heraud ouercom him in þat fiȝt,
And ladde him to his folk ariȝt,
Wiþouten eni faile.
Prisouns þai toke gret plente:
Forþ hii wente to þat cite
To þemeraile,
& presente him þe stiward,
Þat in werre was so hard,
Swiþe heȝ of paraile.
646
45
Þanne seide þemeraile,‘Heraud, do be me consaile:
Me stiward þow schelt be.
Erles, barouns, riche & poure,
Al me land folk lasse & more
Scholle do after þe.’
Þanne gret werre he began:
Boþe into is hond he wan
Castel and cite
Þat þemeraile hadde lore:
King Arguus made þar-fore
Deul and gret pite.
46
Þo þe king wiste þis,Þat his stiward nomen is,
And al his men a-slawe,
Wroþ he was and sori:
His barouns a clepede an hie,
And tolde to hem þat sawe.
Þanne answerde an old kniȝt,
‘Sire, y nel þe lye no-wiȝt:
A kniȝt of cristene lawe
Þemeraile is souder is he.
Þe wer beter þan þis cite
Þat he wer of dawe.
47
Hore a is and kniȝt ful eld:Wel gode hit were to flen is scheld.
Sire, þe miȝt me leue:
In al þe lond Sarazin þer nis
Wer he neuer so strong, y-wis,
Þat he nolde to-cleue.’
Þe king seide, ‘a fend it is.
To Mahoun i swore, y-wis,
Wel sore y schel him greue.
Min ost schel ensembled be,
In is lond schel brenne and sle:
No cite schel ich be-leue.’
647
48
Þe king a parlement let crie.To þemeraile a wolde an hie
Wiþ briȝt armvr & stede,
His castels struede & is cite:
Þat Heraud wan þanne les he,
Douȝti man of dede.
Whan þemeraile wiste þis
He bed is kniȝtes, for-soþ y-wis,
To helpe him at is nede.
Heraud was prest to bataile:
Þe king is ost he gan asaile;
God þat day him spede!
49
Faste þei smite to her fon:Wiþ swerdes, speres wel gode won
Togedres þai gonne fiȝte.
Gret slauȝter was in eiþer side:
Þe blod ran in þe feld wel wide
Of mani a douȝti kniȝte.
Heraud mette wiþ þe king,
& smot him wiþ is swerd keruing
A strok of meche miȝte:
Þer he hadde slawe him þo,
Boute his ost com him to:
An hors þai gonne him diȝte.
50
Wel stoutliche þe king gan fiȝte:Al þat a mette he felde doun riȝte.
Heraud he gan discrie.
Þemeraile was sconfited þere:
Abated was þe meister banere
And al here cheualrie.
In eche side asailed a is
Wiþ speres & wiþ swerdes, iwis,
Þat he miȝte nouȝt flie.
Wiþ is swerd a wereþ him wel
In eche side, ase a gode kniȝt schel,
Whiles a miȝte driȝe.
648
51
Þo he seȝ Heraud a cleped him to:To helpe him he gan go.
An erl Heraud gan mete:
Heraud wiþ is fauchoun him smot
A dent þat þourȝ is helm bot;
Þar a lefte þe swete.
Heraud & þemeraile anon
Delde dentes wel god won:
For noþing þai nolde lete.
Þe king þai sailede and al is men:
So mani ȝede to deþe þen,
Þat grimly þai gonne grete.
52
Þe king wel sori þanne was he,Whan he seȝ is men fle,
And al y-brouȝt to gronde.
Whar þat he seȝ Heraud ride
He fleȝ awei be þat oþer side
Wel sory in þat stonde.
His men ouercome were:
Þar-fore sori he was þere
& for his owene wonde.
King Arguus, for-soþ, a geþ:
A was afered of is deþ
Ȝif þat a were y-fonde.
53
Whan Heraud parseued is,Be his armes a knew him, iwis,
And after him he gan ride.
Neȝ he hadde him ouer-come,
Slawe, oþer in þe feld y-nome
In þat ilche tide.
Þanne seȝ he come a ȝingling
(Ouer al þe oþer a miȝte be king)
Out of þe wodes side.
Þe king him hadde dobbed kniȝt,
Ȝeue him hors & armes briȝt
Wiþ wel meche pride.
649
54
Whan he seȝ þe king fleande,Heraud after him folwande,
He him gan discrie:
‘Old man, no forþer þow ne gon,
Boute þe ȝeue me bataile anon.
Þow dost a gret folye.
Þe lif þow lest er þe gon:
Þin heued þe king schel haue anon;
For-soþ, þow schelt abye.
Þe rabite is min, sikerliche:
Y ne disirede neuer hors so meche
Þat y sauȝ wiþ eye.’
55
Sire Heraud knew him anonBe his armes he hadde vpon:
Togedres þai gonne ride,
Þat boþe þei fellen of here stede,
& seþe gonne swerdes brede:
No lenger þai nolde abide.
Hii cleueþ helm & scheldes bo:
Gret fiȝt þer was betwene hem to
In þat ilche tide.
Þai hewe þe scheldes of gode entaile,
Þe hauberk of so gode a maile
Te-borsten be boþe side.
56
Betwene hem was strong batayle:Eiþer fondede, wiþouten faile,
To bringe oþer to dede.
Ac, ȝif aiþer wiste of oþer ariȝt,
Betwene hem to þar ner no fiȝt
For none skines nede.
Sire Heraud drouȝ him an heȝ,
And seide, ‘kniȝt corteis and sleȝ,
Alse god þe spede,
What is þe name? tel þow me,
For godes loue in trinite,
And of what þede.
650
57
Aȝild þe now to me:Gret harm it wer to sle þe,
So ȝong a bacheler;
For neuer kniȝt y ne fond
So wel werchande wiþ dent of brond
Naiþer fer ne ner.’
Reinbroun seide, ‘þerof be stille:
Þat telle þe y ne wille,
Be godes moder dere.
Er þan ich wile ȝelde me
Erst þin heued schel of fle
Faste, be þe swere.
58
Boute þow now telle meWheþen þow ert, & what þow be,
I schel þe sle anon riȝt;
For þow ert old & whit i-blowe,
Þe stringþe is gon alse y trowe,
Þe power and þe miȝt.’
Heraud seide, ‘me frend fre,
So fareþ folk in me contre
In bataile and in fiȝt:
Whan hii ginneþ for to helde,
Þanne þai wexeþ stout, & belde,
And stronge men, apliȝt.
59
Er þow fro me departed be,Wel ȝonge thow schelt holde me,
And douȝti man of dede.’
Togedres þai smite, wiþ-outen faile,
Ase sterne lyouns in bataile,
Kniȝtes stif on stede.
To-gedre þai smite ernest & faste:
Þe fur out of here helmes braste,
And made here sides blede.
Ful dedli fon now þai are:
Ȝet þai scholle be frendes þare;
Crist þer-to hem spede!
651
60
Heraud seide, ‘sire kniȝt,Herkne to me a lite wiȝt,
For þe courteisie.
Gode þow ert & hardi, ywis:
In al þis land þe beter nis
Þat ich conne aspie.
Ȝif it were þe y-teld
Which ichaue ben in feld
Of miȝt and of meistrie,
Ne wostow neuer aschamed be
Þe name for to telle me,
Ne holde hit to vileynie.’
61
‘Sire olde man,’ þanne seide he,‘For a coward ich holde þe.
Min armes beþ al sonde,
Me strokes beþ sene on þin helm cler:
Out of þe scheld ichaue a quarter
Y-feld to þe grounde.’
Heraud seide, ‘me frend fre,
Þei min armes apeired be,
Me bodi naþ no wounde.
What is þe name? tel me fore,
& y schel sai þe whar ich was bore,
Er ich fro þe founde.
62
Swiche tiding þow miȝt of me here,Or ich of þe in swiche manere,
Þat frendes scholle we be.
I ne aske it for no vileinie,
Boute for meche courteisie:
For loue ich asked þe.’
Wiþ þat Reynbroun wiþ-drouȝ him þere:
Wiþ drery semlaunt & reuful chere
To Heraud seide he:
‘Kniȝt,’ a seide, ‘thow ert wise,
Sleȝ, and hardi, of gret prise,
Be god in trinite.
652
63
Y nolde haue told it for non awe:Erst ich wolde ben islawe
In þis ilche batayle.
In Ingelond ich was y-bore,
So were min eldren me be-fore,
Wiþouten eni faile.
Gij a Warwik me fader was:
No beter kniȝt neuer nas,
Ase wid ase man mai saile.
A stiward hadde me fader Gioun
Þat hiȝte Heraud, þe noble baroun,
Swiþe hiȝ of paraile.
64
Lord he was of al Arderne:Ich was take him to lerne
To conne of courteisie,
And siþe marchaundes stele me
(And brouȝte me to þis contre)
Þat weren of Russie.
Þe king me haþ dobbed kniȝt,
& ȝeue me hors & armes briȝt
To lede is chiualrie.
Be me lai a dede me swere
In eueri bataile is baner to bere:
Þar-of y nouȝt ne lie.’
65
Whan Heraud herde þis,Þat he Gij is sone is,
Away a cast is scheld.
‘Lord,’ a seide, ‘in trinite,
Fader and sone, y-herd þow be!
Þis dai y bide in min eld,
Þat ich me lordes sone se may!’
For ioie a wep al þe day,
And swonede in þe feld.
Reinbroun hadde of him pite,
And seide, ‘sire kniȝt, tel what þe be,
For god, þat alle þing weld.’
653
66
‘Heraud,’ a seide, ‘me name is:‘Ich norschede þe, Reinbroun, y-wis;
In my nory þow were.’
Sone Reinbroun wiste þis,
Þat [he] Heraud of Arderne is,
Merci a cride him þere.
Sire Heraud tok him vp þo
Leuelich in is armes to
Wiþ hertte & wel gode chere.
On here stedes lopen he,
& forþ hii ride to þe cite
Wiþ meche ioie y-fere.
67
To þemeraile tolden heHow þai acorded be
Þourȝ grace of god almiȝte.
King Arguus was ouer-come,
& al is men y-slawe and nome
In þat ilche fiȝte.
Heraud & Reinbroun toke leue þo
Into Ingelond for to go,
And in-to schip hem diȝte.
So longe hii sailede in þe se,
Þat in a lond thanne riuede he
Þat wonder was of siȝte.
68
Hii ne seie castel ne cite:Erst hii wente in al þe contre
(So distrued it is),
Til it toward þe neuen cam.
A castel þei seie fer hem fram:
To þe gate þai riden, iwis.
Of þe porter Heraud gan craue,
‘Tel me now, so god þe saue,
Was þis castel is?
Forhel it nouȝt, we bedeþ þe:
Kniȝtes we beþ of fer contre,
Ase god ȝeue vs blis.
654
69
Þis in we beddeþ par cherite,For godes loue in trinite,
Þat is lord [so] fre.
To-morwe anon so it is day
We scholle wenden in our way
Towardes our contre.’
Þe porter answerde anon riȝt,
‘Of þis lord i ne can telle no-wiȝt,
Ne in what contre a be.
Ac a leuedi her-in is
Ful of del and sorwe, y-wis:
Wel sore wepeþ ȝhe
70
For hire lord þat ȝhe haþ lore:Ioie ne worþ hire neuer þer-fore
For non menstralcie.’
Þe porter in anon gan wende,
And tolde tale ord and ende
To Amis is leuedy:
‘Madame, her beþ come twei kniȝte:
Noble men hii be in fiȝte.
Þai wolde her soiurny
Al þis niȝt, for soþ to say,
To-morwe wenden in her way:
Þarof y nouȝt ne lye.’
71
Þe leuedi seide, ‘let hym in:Þai scholle be serued wel afyn,
Be þe grace of god almiȝte.’
Þe porter wente aȝen anon,
& to þe gate he gan gon,
& let hem in ful riȝte.
Þe kniȝtes were kende kore:
Whan þai come to halle dore,
Adoun þai gonne liȝte.
Men toke here swerdes, scheld, & spere,
Here stedes, and here oþer gere:
Ful wel men gan hem diȝte.
655
72
Þe leuedi faire grete hem anon:To vnarme hem hire-selue is gon
Wiþ a wel gode chere.
Here mete was redi wiþ-outen let:
Anon hii were adoun y-set
To þe sopere.
Heraud askede hire, y-wis,
‘Dame, what þe lordes nam is
Fayn ich wolde hire.’
‘Of þe Montayne he het Amis:
Wiþinne Almayne no swich þer nis,
Me leue frendes dere.
73
A stiward was wiþ þemperour(To al Almayne he was treitour),
Sire Berard of Paui:
Me lordes swike euer was he;
Þourȝ him in al þis sorwe we be.
For þe loue of sire Gij,
Þat me lord louede wel,
& sokoured him in is castel,
We beþ in gret vileinie.
For þe dukes deþ Otoun,
Þat was a treitour feloun,
He vs gan beliȝe,
74
And made vs fle out of þat londe,& in þis contre we beþ astonde,
Þat wonder is of siȝt:
Mechel Arderne cleped it is.
A fairy kniȝt herin is
Þat is of meche miȝt:
Wiþ him ones fauȝt me lord,
& ȝaf him dentes wiþ is sword
Vpon is helm briȝt.
Wepne mai him dere non:
He is so hard to hewe vpon
Ase marbel, y þe pliȝt.
656
75
On a dai me lord honted a best,& drof it out of þe forest
Wiþ-inne is merkes stake.
Siþþe herde ich of him namore:
Þarfore me of-dredeþ sore
Þe kniȝt him haue take.’
‘Allas,’ queþ Heraud, ‘is it Amis,
Þerl of Montaine of gret pris?’
Gret sorwe he gan make.
‘O,’ a seide, ‘sire Reinbroun,
Wel a louede þe fader Gioun:
We mote him helpe for is sake.’
76
Reinbroun seide, ase he was hende,‘Tomorwe ich wile þerder wende
To seche sire Amis.’
‘Me swete frend,’ queþ þe leuedi,
‘Be þow nouȝt to foul-hardi;
For gret perel it is.’
Amorwe Reinbroun aros erly,
And armede him ful hastely,
For to winne pris.
A gode stede he bestrod,
& forþ a wente wiþ-oute abod
To þe forest, ywis.
77
Heraud wiþ him go wolde,Ac he seide þat he ne scholde
For non skines nede,
& he dradde of him strangliche,
& betauȝte him god in heuen riche,
& in is wey a ȝede.
Heraud blefte, & he gan gon:
Þe merkes stake a pased anon,
Þat was wel vnrede.
Al þe dai a tok þe pas,
Til it noun apased was,
Ridand vpon is stede.
657
78
An hille he seȝ before him þere:Gates þeron maked were.
Forþ riȝt he rod in.
Þe gate aȝen anon was spered:
Þo was Reinbroun sore afered,
& faste blessede him.
Nouȝt he ne seȝ boute þesternesse.
Half a mile a rod, ywisse:
Þe wai was þerk and dim.
He rod ase faste ase a miȝte:
Þanne he seȝ more liȝte
Be a water is brim.
79
To þe water he com sone þas:A riuer be a launde þer was;
Þar he gan to liȝte.
Faire hit was y-growe wiþ gras:
A fairer place neuer nas
Þat he seȝ wiþ siȝte.
On þat place was a paleis on:
Swich ne seȝ he neuer non,
Ne of so meche miȝte.
Þe walles were of cristal,
Þe heling was of fin ruwal
Þat schon swiþe briȝte.
80
Þe reftes al cipres be,Þat swote smal casten he
Ouer al aboute.
Þe resins wer of fin coral,
To-gedre iuned wiþ metal
Wiþ-inne and ek wiþ-oute.
On þe front stod a charbokel ston:
Ouer al þe contre it schon,
Wiþ-outen eni doute.
Postes and laces þat þer were
Of iaspe gentil þat was dere,
Al of one soute.
658
81
Þe paleis was beloken alAboute wiþ a marbel wal
Of noble entaile.
Vpon eueriche kernal
Was ful of speres & of springal,
And stoutliche enbataile.
Wiþoute þe gate stod a tre
Wiþ foules of mani kines gle
Singande, wiþ-oute faile.
Þe water was so sterne & grim,
Miȝte no man come þerin,
Boute he hadde schip to saile.
82
Reinbroun dorste nouȝt pasy:Wiþ is spere a gan it prouy,
How dep hit was beside.
He þouȝte on is fader fot hot:
Þe stede in þe side a smot,
& in he gan to ride.
Ouer is helm þe water is gon:
He nolde haue be þer for eiȝte non;
Swich aunter him gan betide.
Er he vp of þe water ferde,
A fond it was þretti mete ȝerde:
So dep he gan doun glide.
83
Þanne he þouȝte on Iesu Crist:His hors was wel swiþe trist,
& quikliche swam to londe:
His fet fastnede on þe grounde.
Reinbroun was glad in þat stounde,
And þankede gode[s] sonde.
In-to þe pales he him dede:
He [be]helde þe est[r]es of þat stede;
For no man a nolde wonde.
Ac wimman ne man fand he non þere
Þat wiþ him speke or confort bere
Naiþer sitte ne stonde.
659
84
And þar-of war a is.Into a chaumber a goþ, y-wis:
A knight a seȝ al-one.
A grette him wiþ wordes fre,
& seide, ‘sire, god wiþ þe be,
Þat sit an heȝ in trone.
Sire,’ a sede, ‘tel þow me
Ȝif þis pales þin owen be:
Ich bidde þe a bone.
&, ȝif þow ert her in prisoun diȝt,
Tel hit me, so wel þow miȝt:
To me now make þe mone.’
85
Amis answerde to Reinbroun,‘In Almayne ich was a baroun,
And now icham for-lore.
Ich was driue out wiþ a feloun,
And now y lye her in prisoun:
Allas þat ich was bore!
Of þis paleis inam no lord.
Ich telle þe a soþe word
Wiþoute oþ iswore:
Hit is a kniȝtes of fayri,
And al þis forest her-by,
A sterne man y-kore.
86
Þis paleys is of swiche miȝt,Her schel no man elde, apliȝt,
Be he her neuer so longe.
Þei he wer her a þosand ȝer,
In is heued schel hore non her,
Ne non elde fonge.’
Reinbroun seide, ‘ert þow Amis,
Þerl of Montayne of gret pris?
Þow singest a reuly songe.
Now ichaue fonde þe,
Þow schelt wende now wiþ me
Out of þe paines stronge.’
660
87
Amis seide, ‘spek nouȝt so:Of þe me wondreþ, so mot y go,
Þat þow ert hider y-come.
Siþe þis world ferst began,
In þis paleis ne com noman,
Boute ȝif a wer i-nome,
Boute ȝif þe lord him hider ladde,
Oþer of him sum leue hadde:
Nis non so hardi gome.
How miȝtest þow lede me,
Whan þow miȝt nouȝt saue þe?
Ich telle þe at þe frome.’
88
Reinbroun seide, ‘drede nouȝt þe;Þar-fore schel hit nouȝt lete be.
Go we anon riȝt.
Ȝif eni man so hardi were
Þat vs wolde at-helde here,
His deþ wer y-diȝt:
Swich a strok ich him ȝeue wolde,
Þat is heued lese a scholde,
Be grace of god almiȝt.
Þei he wer te bataile boun
Ase sterne alse eni lyoun,
Wiþ him ich wile fiȝt.’
89
Amis seide, ‘let now be:Swiche stringþe mai nouȝt helpe þe
Aȝenes sire Gayere;
For noþing ne schel him dere
Wiþ no wepne þat man may bere,
Naiþer stel ne yre;
Ac, ȝif þow wilt ouercome him,
Þat ilche swerd to þe nym
Þat hangeþ a þe pylere.’
Reinbroun braide it out anon riȝt:
Þe chaumber was al ful of liȝt
Þat schon swiþe clere.
661
90
To þerl Amis anon a wond,& tok him vp be þe hond:
No leng hii nolde abide.
Out of þe paleys boþe hii ȝede,
And lopen on Reinbroun is stede,
And forþ þai gonne ride.
Nouȝt fer þannes beþ hii gon,
Þai be-held aȝen anon
Vpon here riȝt side:
Comande hii seȝe ride a kniȝt
Upon a stede gode and liȝt,
Prikande wiþ pride.
91
Swift ase swalwe he com ride:‘Kniȝtes,’ a seide, ‘ȝe scholle abide,
No forþer þat ȝe ne wende.
In me paleys þow hast y-be,
And me prisoun ledest wiþ þe:
Þow dost a dede vn-hende.
Her ȝe sholle bleue bo
In me prisoun for euer-mo
Into þe worldes ende,
Or þow schelt, Reinbroun, þin hed forgo.
Kep for me: icham þe fo;
Bataile y wile þe sende.’
92
Þerl Amys þer aliȝte:Arome he drouȝ him anon riȝte,
And Reinbroun Gayer gan smite.
Gret strokes hii smite betwene,
Þat adoun hii fellen bene:
Aiþer sparede oþer lite.
Siþe þai drowe brondes on grounde,
& hewe to-gedre wiþ grimly wounde
Wiþ swerdes þat wolde bite.
Ȝe herde neuer a stringe[r] fiȝt.
Reinbroun stirede him as gode kniȝt:
Hit was him nouȝt to wite.
662
93
He þouȝte on is fader anon riȝt:Ase fresch a was to fiȝt
Ase grehonde to hare.
Betwene hem twie was gret fiȝt:
Aiþer smot oþer in helmes briȝt,
And delde dentes sare.
Þai hewe helm and scheldes bo:
Gret fiȝt was betwene hem to;
Swich herde ȝe neuer are.
Reinbroun made him to blede,
And felde him doun of is stede:
Þanne was he out of care.
94
Reinbroun be þe nose him tok,And drouȝ to him, & faste him schok:
Þat greuede him ful sore.
His heued benome him he hadde
Ner it þat he merci gradde,
& seide, ‘sire R[e]inbroun, þin ore,
For þe fader loue Gii,
Þe beste kniȝt, sikerly,
Þat euer was y-bore.
Wiþ þat þow haue merci on me,
Al me prisouns diliured be,
And hennes for euermore.’
95
R[e]inbroun seide, ‘so y schel:In þat forward y graunte wel
Þat þow aliue go,
So þe prisouns diliured be;
Þar-to þe treuþe pliȝte me
Betwene vs-selue to.’
R[e]inbroun glad & bliþe is:
He hadde diliured sire Amis,
Þre hondred kniȝtes & mo.
Into þe castel wenten hii,
Þar was Heraud & þe leuedy
Ful of sorwe and wo.
663
96
Þai wer welcomed wiþ fair gle.Whan þe leuedi hire lord gan se,
Ȝhe made meche blis,
& Heraud, forsoþe, dede also,
And herede god almiȝti þo,
And Amis he gan kisse.
Heraud tolde him al is treye,
How he hadde in prisoun leye,
For-soþe wiþ-outen misse,
Fo[r] me lordes loue Reynbroun,
What sorwe he hadde in prisoun,
Honger, and þesternesse.
97
‘Þis is Reinbroun, Gii is sone,Þat haþ set þe out of prisone,
And [brouȝt] þe out of þe care.’
Al is lif a tolde him þo,
How Gij was out of londe y-go,
And how hit was y-fare.
Among hem gret ioie þer is:
In þe castel was meche blis
Among alle þare.
Euerich of hem oþer gan kisse,
And made meche ioie & blisse:
For blisse þai wepe ful sare.
98
Wiþ þat þer com a kniȝt riding:To þerl Amis a brouȝte tiding
Fro þat emperur,
Þat þe duk Berard ded is:
A palmer slouȝ him, y-wis,
Wiþ wel mechel onour.
Þemperur hadde sent is sonde
A scholde come, and [haue] is londe,
Boþe toune and tour;
& þat þerl Terry and he
Were skyred and maked fre
Þourȝ þe conquerur.
664
99
Sire Amis wiþ is meyneWente hom to is contre
To þat emperour:
A ȝaf him is londes fre,
Boþe castel and cite,
Wiþ wel meche onour.
Glad of him was þemperur fre:
Euer a was to him priue
Boþe in halle and bour.
And also was þerl Terry,
Þat was þerles sone Aubry,
A man of gret fauour.
100
Heraud & Reinbroun tok leue þoInto Ingelonde te go:
Þanne was þe leuedi in care.
Mani iurne þai ride þo
Þourȝ Spayne & þourȝ londes mo:
Into Bourgoyne þai come ware;
Þe contre was strued doun riȝt.
Heraud askede at a kniȝt
How hit was y-fare.
He seide, ‘þe duk of Marce y-told,
Þat is a stout kniȝt and bold,
Vs haþ y-brouȝt in care.
101
Vpon our erl werreþ he:He naþ leued boute þis cite,
Þat he naþ y-nome.
Ac þis castel is gode engyn:
Noblech a wereþ him þer-in
Also a douȝti gome.
Wiþ him he haþ a noble kniȝt,
His souder, siker apliȝt,
Þat to him is y-come.
Ȝong a is, so þenkeþ me,
Nouȝt twenti winter old nis he,
Ich telle þe at þe frome.
665
102
In þis launde her-beforeAn hondred haþ her lif y-lore,
Whan he seȝ hem ride.
Her forþ ne schel pase no kniȝt,
Ȝif he haþ brenye or stede liȝt,
Þat he ne schel abide,
And for-lese þer þat on,
Oþer is heued riȝt anon
Be þe wode side.
Ȝif ȝe be þat launde gon,
Ich telle ȝow be sein Ion,
Swich aunture ȝow schel betide.’
103
‘O, god be þanked,’ queþ Reinbroun,‘Ichaue founde me compaynoun,
Me felle wiþ to fiȝte.
Ȝif he wile haue oure þing,
Y schel him teche, wiþ-outen lesing,
Þat he doþ vnriȝte.’
Nouȝt fer þanne ne beþ þai gon,
Þai be-helde aȝen anon:
Hii siȝe his armes briȝte
Vpon a stede whit so flour;
His armes wer of rede kolour,
A semede of meche miȝte.
104
‘Sire Heraud,’ seide Reinbroun,‘Now y se þat bolde baroun
Þat is so stout a fere.
Wiþ vs to fiȝte he makeþ him ȝare:
Wiþ him to iusten ich wile fare
Emforþ me powere.
Ich him asaile, ȝif þow wilt so.’
Heraud seide, ‘so þow schelt do,
Me leue sone dere.’
Swiþe þeder rod Reinbroun,
& he in þe launde com adoun
Vpon is deistrere.
666
105
Aiþer was prout & mody:No word þai speke, sikerly,
To-gedres þai gonne driue.
Aiþer hitte oþer in þe scheld,
Þat boþe hii fellen in þe feld
Of here hors beliue.
Siþe þai drowe brondes of stel,
And hewe togedre hard & wel,
And delde dentes riue,
& laiden on wiþ swerdes clere:
Helm and scheld, þat stronge were,
Þai gonne hem al to-schliue.
106
Heraud beheld longe þat fiȝt:For Reinbroun a bad te god almiȝt
Þat he non harm ne fonge.
To him-selue a seide þare
Swich fiȝt ne seȝ he neuer are
Of dentes þat were stronge.
‘Sire kniȝt,’ seide Reinbroun,
‘Vnderstand to me resoun,
So god þe saule fonge,
Ac neuer ne fond ich a kniȝt
Þat me strokes driȝe miȝt
Haluendel so longe.
107
What is þe name? whar wer þe bore?Ich þe praie, tel me fore,
For loue of oure driȝte,
&, ȝif þow wost ȝelde þe,
Ich schel þe lede to me contre.
Me treuþe i schel þe pliȝte:
Y schel þe ȝeue castel & cite,
Bourwes, & tounes, & riche fe,
And mani a douȝti kniȝte;
For þow ert of gret power:
In al þis world þer nis þe per
Þat man finde miȝte.
667
108
‘Sire kniȝt,’ þanne answerde he,‘Y nel nouȝt, be him þat made me,
Telle þe me name.
Þourȝ þe sarmoun scheltow nouȝt wite
Whar y was boren ne gete
An erneste ne a game:
Erst y schel þe sle, verament.
Sire, let be þe prechement:
Hit is þe meche schame;
Ac neuer kniȝt i ne fond
So wel worchande wiþ dent of brond
Þat ich fauȝt wiþ y-same.
109
Ac y ne sei nouȝt for þam:Þin heued y schel smite þe fram,
For-soþe, wiþ-oute more.
Þat olde man þat ich y-se
(Y ne wot ȝif he þe fader be,
Or þow ert wiþ him at lore),
Lite a louede [þe], siker þow be,
Whan a sente þe to me,
He wiþ þe berde hore.
Whan ichaue þin hed of-take,
Be þe berd y schel him schake,
Þat him schel smerte sore.
110
So y schel him þer-bi ploke,Þat al is teþ schel roke
Þat sitteþ in is heued.’
&, þo Reinbroun herde þis,
Þat Heraud dispised is,
His swerd to him a weued:
A strok a smot is helm vpon,
Þat a quarter gan doun gon;
Hit was half to-cleued.
Wiþ þat strok a stente adoun al,
& to þe erþe a is y-fal:
His lif neȝ he hadde leued.
668
111
‘O frend,’ a seide, ‘ich bidde þe lete;For it is meche foly to þrete
Eni man aliue.’
& he ascorn bad him lete,
And a sterte vpon is fete
Hasteliche and bliue.
Haslak smot Reinbroun anon,
Þat to þe bokel þe schel[d] chon:
Neȝ a gan doun driue.
Strong and gode hii wer boþe:
Eiþer kedde þat hii wer wroþe
To bringe oþer of liue.
112
Betwene hem strong fiȝt þer is:Swich ne herde [ȝe] neuer, iwis,
Siþe þat ȝe wer bore.
So miȝte nouȝt longe be:
Þat [on] moste þat oþer sle
Of þe kniȝtes kende i-core.
Heraud be-held þat bataile,
How aiþer gan oþer asaile:
Wo was him þer-fore.
A gret harm him þouȝte it were
Ȝif aiþer slouȝ oþer þere:
For hem a wep wel sore.
113
Wiþ þat amonges hem com he,And seide, ‘kniȝt, for godes pite,
Herkne to me a stounde.
Let now ben al ȝour fiȝt,
And aȝild þe to þis kniȝt
Þat þou hast her y-founde.
For he is man of gret power:
In al þis world þer nis is per,
Ne of so meche mounde.
In is merci, y rede, þow [þe] do,
Er þan be mad betwene ȝow to
Eni mo harde wounde.’
669
114
He answerde wiþ-oute more,‘Say me ferst, þow faimel hore,
Also god þe spede,
Why me stringþe is for-lore:
Siþþe þe time þat ich was bore
Y nas in swiche a drede.
Ȝif þow ert of fendes come,
For whi þis drede me haue nome,
Ich wolde þat þow me sede.
In gode[s] name ich coniure þe
Þat þow þe soþe telle me,
And be al is ferede.’
115
Heraud seide, ‘þer-of be stille:Þat telle þe [nis] me wille
For noman aliue.
Erst þow schelt telle me
Wheþen þow ert, & what thow be,
Also mote y þriue.
Þanne y schel telle þe riȝt
Boþe of me and of þis kniȝt
Þat ȝif[þ] þe dentes riue.
Þin hauberk is al to-siȝe,
And þe face wiþ blod bewriȝe
Of woundes mo þan fiue.’
116
He answerde, ‘þow seist wel.Boute for drede, be sein Miȝel,
Y nolde ben aknowe,
Ac for ich wolde wite an haste
Whi ich was so sore agaste
Now in a lite þrowe.
In Ingelonde ich was bore,
So were min eldren me before
Boþe heȝ and lowe.
Heraud me fader het, y-wis:
Of Walingforde lord a is,
And al þe contre is owe.
670
117
Out of londe þan wente heTo seche Gi is sone þe fre,
Þat marchauns stele away.
To þerl of Winchester y was sent:
Þar ich was loked, veraiment,
Boþe niȝtes and day.
Whan ich was woxe of meche pris,
Douȝti, and swiþe strong, y-wis,
Me felawes gonne say
Þat y nas of dedes nouȝt,
For þat y me fader [ne] souȝt
In vnkouþe contray.
118
To Walingforde y gan gon,Me fader is armes þer y fond anon,
His hauberk and is stede,
His scheld, and is helm briȝt,
And is swerd gode and liȝt,
Þat he was woned to lede.
Me selue y dobbed me kniȝt þare:
Man ne tolde ich it neuer are,
Also god me spede.
Out of þat londe ich wente þo
To seche me fader [in] wer & wo
In mani an vnkouþ þede.
119
Of werre ne herde y neuer speke,Þat y ne com þer me fader to seke:
Þus to þis lord y cam.
Þe duk of Marce haþ strued him,
Boute þis castel is gode engyn.
Þe lord þat y wiþ am
Neȝ he hadde is lond for-lore
(Swiþe wo was him þar-fore),
And mani a douȝti man.
Boute þretti hors he nadde þo:
Now he haþ þre hondred & mo
Þat ich in bataile wan.’
671
120
Heraud herde þis wordes alle:Byter teres he let doun falle,
And seide, ‘what is the name?’
‘Haslak,’ a seide, ‘þow schelt me calle.
Heraud het me fader in halle,
& Cristiane het me dame.
Now þow wost whar ich was bore,
And what ich hatte wiþ-oute more
An erneste and agame:
To forward þow schelt telle me
Whi ich was afered of þe
Þat we made er y-same.’
121
Heraud beheld þe ȝonge kniȝt,Ac o word speke he ne miȝt
For meche ioie and blisse.
‘Heraud is me name, apliȝt,
And þow Haslak y se wiþ siȝt,
Me sone, wiþ-oute misse.
Þis is þe lord, sire Reinbroun:
Ichaue had for him in prisoun
Honger and þesternesse.
Þe miȝt him se: a stant þe by.
Ȝild him þe swerd in is merci,
And pray him þat he þe kisse.’
122
Þo Haslak wiste sikerlyHit was is fader þat stod him by,
And is lord Reinbroun,
Swiþe loude he gan to crie,
‘Fader, for loue of oure leuedye,
Ȝem me þe benesoun.’
Ofte he knewelede to þe grounde,
And cride him merci in þat stounde
Wiþ gode deuocioun.
‘In þe merci y do me riȝt,
And euermore to ben þe kniȝt
Boþe in feld and toun.’
672
123
Þo Reinbroun wiste þis,Þat he Heraud is sone is,
Up he gan him take.
Leueliche a kiste him þo,
Sire Heraud, for-soþ, dede also:
Meche blisse þai gonne make.
Haslak ladde hem faire and wel
Hom til is lordes castel,
And tolde, wiþ-oute sake,
Þat he hadde is fader brouȝt
Þat he hadde wide y-souȝt
Wiþ meche wer and wrake,
124
‘And me lord, sire Reinbroun,Ase sterne ase eni lyoun
At euery skenes nede,
Þat euer to bataile was boun.’
Glad was þanne þerl Myloun,
And ȝaf hem riche mede
Þe kniȝtes of seluer & of golde,
Ase meche as he take wolde,
Briȝt armur and stede.
So þai wente sone anon
For to wreke hem of here fon,
Ȝif god hem wolde spede.
125
Fiue dawes before þe Miȝel-masÞai armede hem more & las
Aȝen here fon to fiȝte.
Out of þe castel þai gonne pas:
Þe duk hii fonden in þe plas
Wiþ mani helmes briȝte.
Þar miȝte men se scheftes schake,
Þar men miȝte se crounes crake
Of mani an hardy kniȝte.
Heraud, Haslak, and Reinbroun—
Al þat hii smite ȝede adoun
Of þai hii mete miȝte.
673
126
Þe duk of Marce seȝ þat tideHis folk was slawe be ech aside,
& in þe feld alto-dreued.
He prikede is stede wiþ meche pride:
Aȝenes þerl he gan ride,
And smot him on þe heued.
Almest a felde þerl adoun:
Heraud com wiþ is fauchoun,
His body ato he cleued.
Þanne Haslak and Reinbroun
Þerl is folk þai felde adoun:
Noþing þai ne leued.
127
Þis seȝ al þe barnage:For to do þerl omage,
Merci þai gonne crie.
Kniȝtes, squier, and page
Þai toke þer in-to ostage
Of þe duk is partye.
Þus þai stablede þe lond wiþ fiȝt,
& þerafter anon riȝt
Þai toke leue an hiȝe.
In-te Ingelonde þai gonne saile.
[OMITTED]
[OMITTED]
[A Londres sont tut dreit ale,
Ou le rei Athelstan ont troue.
Le rei encontre eus est ale,
Od li le meulz de la cite.
Mult duement les ad honure,
E del suen assez done.
A Rainbrun doune sun conte,
E si lui acrest mult sun fie.
Treis iours i ont soiurne,
Al quart ont pris lur congie,
A Warewik uunt, la bone cite:
Cil del pais sunt mult le.
Rainbrun prent de ses hommes feute:
Mult par est entre eus ame.
Heraud sen ua a Walingeford,
A son chastel bon e fort.
Desore i uodra soiurner
Od sa femme, bone mulier,
Kar mult ad son cors trauaille
En plusurs lius por sa leaute.
Ou le rei Athelstan ont troue.
Le rei encontre eus est ale,
Od li le meulz de la cite.
Mult duement les ad honure,
E del suen assez done.
A Rainbrun doune sun conte,
E si lui acrest mult sun fie.
Treis iours i ont soiurne,
Al quart ont pris lur congie,
A Warewik uunt, la bone cite:
674
Rainbrun prent de ses hommes feute:
Mult par est entre eus ame.
Heraud sen ua a Walingeford,
A son chastel bon e fort.
Desore i uodra soiurner
Od sa femme, bone mulier,
Kar mult ad son cors trauaille
En plusurs lius por sa leaute.
De ceste estorie uoil fin faire:
Plus nen uoil desore traire.
Bel ensaumple i peut em prendre
Qui bien la siet e ueut entendre
De pruesce amer, leaute tenir,
De tuz biens faire e mal gerpir,
Orguil, richesces auer en despit:
De Guion nus aprent le escrit
Ceo est la summe de la ualur,
Ke tut guerpi pur sun creatur.
E cil qui en la sainte trinite
Vn deu est par sa pite
Nus doint en terre si servir,
Ke ali en glorie puissums venir.
Plus nen uoil desore traire.
Bel ensaumple i peut em prendre
Qui bien la siet e ueut entendre
De pruesce amer, leaute tenir,
De tuz biens faire e mal gerpir,
Orguil, richesces auer en despit:
De Guion nus aprent le escrit
Ceo est la summe de la ualur,
Ke tut guerpi pur sun creatur.
E cil qui en la sainte trinite
Vn deu est par sa pite
Nus doint en terre si servir,
Ke ali en glorie puissums venir.
Amen.]
| Guy of Warwick | |