Edited by Mary Flowers Braswell - Ywain and Gawain: Part I lyrics

Here bigyns Ywain and Gawain Almyghti God that made mankyn, He schilde His servandes out of syn And mayntene tham with myght and mayne That herkens Ywayne and Gawayne; Thai war knightes of the Tabyl Rownde, Tharfore listens a lytel stownde. Arthure, the Kyng of Yngland, That wan al Wales with his hand And al Scotland, als sayes the buke, And mani mo, if men wil luke, Of al knightes he bare the pryse. In werld was none so war ne wise. Trew he was in alkyn thing. Als it byfel to swilk a kyng, He made a feste, the soth to say, Opon the Witsononday At Kerdyf that es in Wales. And efter mete thare in the hales Ful grete and gay was the a**emblé Of lordes and ladies of that c*ntré, And als of kynghtes war and wyse And damisels of mykel pryse. Ilkane with other made grete gamin And grete solace als thai war samin. Fast thai carped and curtaysly Of dedes of armes and of veneri And of gude knightes that lyfed then, And how men might tham kyndeli ken By doghtines of thaire gude dede On ilka syde, wharesum thai yede - For thai war stif in ilka stowre. And tharfore gat thai grete honowre. Thai tald of more trewth tham bitwene Than now omang men here es sene, For trowth and luf es al bylaft; Men uses now another craft. With worde men makes it trew and stabil, Bot in thaire faith es noght bot fabil; With the mowth men makes it hale, Bot trew trowth es nane in the tale. Tharfore hereof now wil I blyn, Of the Kyng Arthure I wil bygin And of his curtayse cumpany; Thare was the flowre of chevallry. Swilk lose thai wan with speres-horde Over al the werld went the worde. After mete went the Kyng Into chamber to slepeing, And also went with him the Quene. That byheld thai al bydene, For thai saw tham never so On high dayes to chamber go. Bot sone, when thai war went to slepe, Knyghtes sat the dor to kepe: Sir Dedyne and Sir Segramore, Sir Gawayn and Sir Kay sat thore, And also sat thare Sir Ywaine And Colgrevance of mekyl mayn. This knight that hight Colgrevance, Tald his felows of a chance And of a stowre he had in bene, And al his tale herd the Quene. The chamber dore sho has unshet, And down omang tham scho hir set; Sodainli sho sat down right, Or ani of tham of hir had sight Bot Colgrevance rase up in hy, And thareof had Syr Kay envy, For he was of his tong a skalde, And forto boste was he ful balde. "Ow, Colgrevance," said Sir Kay, "Ful light of lepes has thou bene ay. Thou wenes now that the sal fall Forto be hendest of us all. And the Quene sal understand, That here es none so unkunand Al if thou rase and we sat styll. We ne dyd it for none yll, Ne for no manere of fayntise, Ne us denyd noght forto rise, That we ne had resen had we hyr sene." "Sir Kay, I wote wele," sayd the Quene, "And it war gude thou left swilk sawes And noght despise so thi felawes." "Madame," he said, "by Goddes dome, We ne wist no thing of thi come And if we did noght curtaysly, Takes to no velany. Bot pray ye now this gentil man To tel the tale that he bygan." Colgrevance said to Sir Kay: "Bi grete God that aw this day, Na mare manes me thi flyt Than it war a flies byt. Ful oft wele better men than I Has thou desspised desspytusely. It es ful semeli, als me think, A brok omang men forto stynk. So it fars by the, Syr Kay: Of weked wordes has thou bene ay. And, sen thi wordes er wikked and fell, This time tharto na more I tell, Bot of the thing that I bygan." And sone Sir Kay him answerd than And said ful tite unto the Quene: "Madame, if ye had noght here bene, We sold have herd a selly case; Now let ye us of oure solace. Tharfore, madame, we wald yow pray, That ye cumand him to say And tel forth, als he had tyght." Than answerd that hende knight: "Mi lady es so avyse, That scho wil noght cumand me To tel that towches me to ill; Scho es noght of so weked will." Sir Kai said than ful smertli: "Madame, al hale this cumpani Praies yow hertly now omell, That he his tale forth might tell. If ye wil noght for oure praying, For faith ye aw unto the kyng, Cumandes him his tale to tell, That we mai here how it byfell." Than said the Quene, "Sir Colgrevance, I prai the tak to no grevance This kene karping of Syr Kay; Of weked wordes has he bene ay, So that none may him chastise. Tharfore I prai the, on al wise, That thou let noght for his sawes, At tel to me and thi felawes Al thi tale, how it bytid. For my luf I the pray and byd." "Sertes, madame, that es me lath Bot for I wil noght mak yow wrath, Yowre cumandment I sal fulfill, If ye wil listen me untill, With hertes and eres understandes; And I sal tel yow swilk tithandes, That ye herd never none slike Reherced in no kynges ryke. Bot word fares als dose the wind, Bot if men it in hert bynd; And, wordes wo so trewly tase, By the eres into the hert it gase, And in the hert thare es the horde And knawing of ilk mans worde. "Herkens, hende unto my spell. Trofels sal I yow nane tell, Ne lesinges forto ger yow lagh, Bot I sal say right als I sagh. Now als this time s** yere I rade allane, als ye sal here, Obout forto seke aventurs, Wele armid in gude armurs. In a frith I fand a strete; Ful thik and hard, I you bihete, With thornes, breres, and moni a quyn. Nerehand al day I rade thareyn, And thurgh I past with mekyl payn. Than come I sone into a playn, Whare I gan se a bretise brade, And thederward ful fast I rade. I saw the walles and the dyke, And hertly wele it gan me lyke; And on the drawbrig saw I stand A knight with fawkon on his hand. This ilk knight, that be ye balde, Was lord and keper of that halde. I hailsed him kindly als I kowth; He answerd me mildeli with mowth. Mi sterap toke that hende knight And kindly cumanded me to lyght; His cumandment I did onane, And into hall sone war we tane. He thanked God, that gude man, Sevyn sithes or ever he blan, And the way that me theder broght, And als the aventurs that I soght. "Thus went we in, God do him mede, And in his hand he led my stede. When we are in that fayre palays - It was ful worthly wroght always - I saw no man of moder born. Bot a burde hang us biforn, Was nowther of yren ne of tre, Ne I ne wist whareof it might be. And by that bord hang a mall. The knyght smate on tharwithal Thrise, and by then might men se Bifore him come a faire menye, Curtayse men in worde and dede. To stabil sone thai led mi stede. "A damisel come unto me, The semeliest that ever I se, Lufsumer lifed never in land. Hendly scho toke me by the hand, And sone that gentyl creature Al unlaced myne armure. Into a chamber sho me led, And with a mantil scho me cled: It was of purpure faire and fine And the pane of riche ermyne. Al the folk war went us fra, And thare was none than bot we twa. Scho served me hendely to hend: Hir maners might no man amend. Of tong sho was trew and renable And of hir semblant soft and stabile. Ful fain I wald, if that I might, Have woned with that swete wight. And, when we sold go to sopere, That lady with a lufsom chere Led me down into the hall. Thare war we served wele at all; It nedes noght to tel the mese, For wonder wele war we at esse. Byfor me sat the lady bright Curtaisly my mete to dyght; Us wanted nowther baken ne roste. And efter soper sayd myne oste That he cowth noght tel the day That ani knight are with him lay, Or that ani aventures soght. Tharfore he prayed me, if I moght, On al wise, when I come ogayne, That I sold cum to him sertayne. I said, "Sir, gladly, yf I may." It had bene shame have said him nay. "That night had I ful gude rest And mi stede esed of the best. Alsone als it was dayes lyght, Forth to fare sone was I dyght. Mi leve of mine ost toke I thare And went mi way withowten mare, Aventures forto layt in land. A faire forest sone I fand. Me thoght mi hap thare fel ful hard, For thare was mani a wilde lebard, Lions, beres, bath bul and bare, That rewfully gan rope and rare. Oway I drogh me, and with that I saw sone whare a man sat On a lawnd, the fowlest wight That ever yit man saw in syght. He was a lathly creature, For fowl he was out of mesure; A wonder mace in hand he hade, And sone mi way to him I made. His hevyd, me thoght, was als grete Als of a rowncy or a nete; Unto his belt hang his hare, And efter that byheld I mare. To his forhede byheld I than, Was bradder than twa large span; He had eres als ane olyfant And was wele more than geant. His face was ful brade and flat; His nese was cutted als a cat; His browes war like litel buskes; And his tethe like bare tuskes. A ful grete bulge opon his bak - Thare was noght made withowten lac. His chin was fast until his brest; On his mace he gan him rest. Also it was a wonder wede, That the cherle yn gede; Nowther of wol ne of line Was the wede that he went yn. "When he me sagh, he stode upright. I frayned him if he wolde fight, For tharto was I in gude will, Bot als a beste than stode he still. I hopid that he no wittes kowth, No reson forto speke with mowth. To him I spak ful hardily And said, 'What ertow, belamy?' He said ogain, 'I am a man.' I said, 'Swilk saw I never nane. What ertow?' alsone said he. I said, 'Swilk als thou here may se.' I said, 'What does thou here allane?' He said, 'I kepe thir bestes ilkane.' I said, 'That es mervaile, think me, For I herd never of man bot the In wildernes ne in forestes, That kepeing had of wilde bestes, Bot thai war bunden fast in halde.' He sayd, 'Of thire es none so balde Nowther by day ne bi night Anes to pas out of mi sight.' I sayd, 'How so? Tel me thi scill.' 'Parfay,' he said, 'gladly I will.' He said, 'In al this faire foreste Es thare none so wilde beste, That remu dar, bot stil stand, When I am to him cumand. Any ay, when that I wil him fang With mi fingers that er strang, I ger him cri on swilk manere, That al the bestes when thai him here, Obout me than cum thai all, And to mi fete fast thai fall, On thaire manere merci to cry. Bot understand now redyli, Olyve es thare lifand no ma Bot I that durst omang tham ga, That he ne sold sone be al torent. Bot thai er at my comandment; To me thai cum when I tham call, And I am maister of tham all.' "Than he asked onone right, What man I was. I said, 'A knyght That soght aventurs in that land, My body to asai and fande. And I the pray of thi kownsayle, Thou teche me to sum mervayle.' He sayd, 'I can no wonders tell, Bot here bisyde es a well. Wend theder and do als I say; Thou pa**es noght al quite oway. Folow forth this ilk strete, And sone sum mervayles sal thou mete. The well es under the fairest tre That ever was in this c*ntré; By that well hinges a bacyne That es of gold gude and fyne, With a cheyne, trewly to tell, That wil reche into the well. Thare es a chapel nere tharby, That nobil es and ful lufely. By the well standes a stane; Tak the bacyn sone onane And cast on water with thi hand, And sone thou sal se new tithand. A storme sal rise and a tempest Al obout, by est and west; Thou sal here mani thonor-blast Al obout the blawand fast. And thare sal cum slik slete and rayne That unnese sal thou stand ogayne; Of lightnes sal thou se a lowe, Unnethes thou sal thi selven knowe. And if thou pas withowten grevance, Than has thou the fairest chance, That ever yit had any knyght, That theder come to kyth his myght.' "Than toke I leve and went my way And rade unto the midday. By than I come whare I sold be, I saw the chapel and the tre. Thare I fand the fayrest thorne That ever groued sen God was born. So thik it was with leves grene, Might no rayn cum tharbytwene; And that grenes lastes ay, For no winter dere yt may. I fand the bacyn als he talde, And the wel with water kalde. An amerawd was the stane - Richer saw I never nane - On fowre rubyes on heght standand. Thaire light lasted over al the land, And when I saw that semely syght, It made me bath joyful and lyght. I toke the bacyn sone onane And helt water opon the stane. The weder wex than wonder-blak, And the thoner fast gan crak. Thare come slike stormes of hayl and rayn, Unnethes I might stand thare ogayn; The store windes blew ful lowd, So kene come never are of clowd. I was drevyn with snaw and slete, Unnethes I might stand on my fete. In my face the levening smate, I wend have brent, so was it hate, That weder made me so will of rede, I hopid sone to have my dede; And sertes, if it lang had last, I hope I had never thethin past. Bot thorgh His might that tholed wownd, The storme sesed within a stownde. Than wex the weder fayre ogayne, And thareof was I wonder-fayne; For best comforth of al thing Es solace efter myslikeing. "Than saw I sone a mery syght: Of al the fowles that er in flyght, Lighted so thik opon that tre, That bogh ne lefe none might I se. So merily than gon thai sing, That al the wode bigan to ring; Ful mery was the melody Of thaire sang and of thaire cry. Thare herd never man none swilk, Bot if ani had herd that ilk. And when that mery dyn was done, Another noyse than herd I sone, Als it war of horsmen Mo than owther nyen or ten. "Sone than saw I cum a knyght; In riche armurs was he dight, And sone, when I gan on him loke, Mi shelde and spere to me I toke. That knight to me hied ful fast, And kene wordes out gan he cast. He bad that I sold tel him tite, Whi I did him swilk despite, With weders wakened him of rest And done him wrang in his forest. 'Tharfore,' he said, 'thou sal aby!' And with that come he egerly And said I had ogayn resowne Done him grete destrucciowne, And might it never more amend. Tharfore he bad I sold me fend. And sone I smate him on the shelde, Mi schaft brac out in the felde, And than he bare me sone bi strenkith Out of my sadel my speres lenkith. I wate that he was largely By the shuldres mare than I; And bi the ded that I sal thole, Mi stede by his was bot a fole. For mate I lay down on the grownde, So was I stonayd in that stownde. A worde to me wald he noght say, Bot toke my stede and went his way. Ful sarily than thare I sat, For wa I wist noght what was what. With my stede he went in hy The same way that he come by. And I durst folow him no ferr For dout me solde bitide werr. And also yit, by Goddes dome, I ne wist whare he bycome. "Than I thoght how I had hight Unto myne ost, the hende knyght, And also til his lady bryght, To com ogayn if that I myght. Mine armurs left I thare ilkane, For els myght I noght have gane. Unto myne in I come by day. The hende knight and the fayre may Of my come war thai ful glade, And nobil semblant thai me made. In al thinges thai have tham born Als thai did the night biforn. Sone thai wist whare I had bene, And said that thai had never sene Knyght that ever theder come, Take the way ogayn home. On this wise that tyme I wroght; I fand the folies that I soght." "Now sekerly," said Sir Ywayne, "Thou ert my cosyn jermayne; Trew luf suld be us bytwene, Als sold bytwyx brether bene. Thou ert a fole at thou ne had are Tald me of this ferly fare, For sertes I sold onone ryght Have venged the of that ilk knyght. So sal I yit, if that I may." And than als smertly sayed Syr Kay - He karpet to tham wordes grete: "It es sene, now es efter mete, Mare boste es in a pot of wyne Than in a karcas of Saynt Martyne. Arme the smertly, Syr Ywayne, And sone that thou war cumen ogayne; Luke thou fil wele thi panele, And in thi sadel set the wele. And when thou wendes, I the pray, Thi baner wele that thou desplay; And, rede I, or thou wende, Thou tak thi leve at ilka frende. And if it so bytide this nyght, That the in slepe dreche ani wight Or any dremis mak the rad, Turn ogayn and say I bad." The quene answerd with milde mode And said, "Sir Kay, ertow wode? What the devyl es the withyn, At thi tong may never blyn Thi felows so fowly to shende? Sertes, Sir Kay, thou ert unhende. By Him that for us sufferd pine, Syr, and thi tong war myne I sold bical it tyte of treson, And so might thou do, by gude reson. Thi tong dose the grete dishonowre, And tharefore es it thi traytowre." And than alsone Syr Ywayne Ful hendly answerd ogayne, Al if men sayd hym velany, He karped ay ful curtaysly: "Madame," he said unto the quene, "Thare sold na stryf be us bytwene. Unkowth men wele may he shende That to his felows es so unhende. And als, madame, men says sertayne That, wo so flites or turnes ogayne, He bygins al the melle: So wil I noght it far by me. Lates him say haley his thoght; His wordes greves me right noght." Als thai war in this spekeing Out of the chamber come the kyng. The barons that war thare, sertayn, Smertly rase thai him ogayne. He bad tham sit down al bydene, And down he set him by the quene. The quene talde him fayre and wele, Als sho kowth, everilka dele Ful apertly al the chance Als it bifel Syr Colgrevance. When sho had talde him how it ferd, And the king hyr tale had herd, He sware by his owyn crowne And his fader sowl Uter Pendragowne, That he sold se that ilk syght By that day thethin a fowretenight, On Saint Johns evyn, the Baptist, That best barn was under Crist. "Swith," he sayd, "wendes with me, Who so wil that wonder se." The kynges word might noght be hid, Over al the cowrt sone was it kyd; And thare was none so litel page That he ne was fayn of that vayage; And knyghtes and swiers war ful fayne; Mysliked none bot Syr Ywayne. To himself he made grete mane, For he wald have went allane. In hert he had grete myslykyng For the wending of the kyng, Al for he hopid, withowten fayle, That Sir Kay sold ask the batayle, Or els Sir Gawayn, knyght vailant; And owther wald the king grant. Who so it wald first crave Of tham two, sone might it have. The kynges wil wald he noght bide, Worth of him, what may bityde; Bi him allane he thoght to wend And tak the grace that God wald send. He thoght to be wele on hys way, Or it war pa**ed the thryd day, And to asay if he myght mete With that ilk narow strete With thornes and with breres set, That mens way might lightli let, And also forto fynd the halde, That Sir Colgrevance of talde. The knyght and the mayden meke, The forest fast than wald he seke, And als the karl of Kaymes kyn And the wilde bestes with him, The tre with briddes thare opon, The chapel, the bacyn, and the stone. His thoght wald he tel to no frende, Until he wyst how it wald ende. Than went Ywaine to his yn; His men he fand redy thareyn. Unto a swier gan he say, "Go swith and sadel my palfray, And so thou do my strang stede, And tak with the my best wede. At yone gate I wil outryde; Withowten town I sal the bide. And hy the smertly unto me, For I most make a jorné. Ogain sal thou bring my palfra, And forbede the oght to say. If thou wil any more me se, Lat none wit of my preveté; And if ani man the oght frayn, Luke now lely that thou layn." "Sir," he said, "with ful gude will, Als ye byd, I sal fulfyll. At yowre awyn wil may ye ride, For me ye sal noght be ascryed." Forth than went Sir Ywayne; He thinkes, or he cum ogayne, To wreke his kosyn at his myght. The squier has his hernays dyght; He did right als his mayster red; His stede, his armurs he him led. When Ywayn was withowten town, Of his palfray lighted he down And dight him right wele in his wede And lepe up on his gude stede. Furth he rade onone right, Until it neghed nere the nyght. He pa**ed many high mowntayne In wildernes and mony a playne, Til he come to that lethir sty, That him byhoved pa** by. Than was he seker for to se The wel and the fayre tre. The chapel saw he at the last, And theder hyed he ful fast. More curtaysi and more honowre Fand he with tham in that toure, And mare conforth by monyfalde, Than Colgrevance had him of talde. That night was he herberd thare: So wele was he never are. At morn he went forth by the strete, And with the cherel sone gan he mete That sold tel to him the way. He sayned him, the soth to say, Twenty sith or ever he blan; Swilk mervayle had he of that man; For he had wonder that nature Myght mak so fowl a creature. Than to the well he rade gude pase, And doun he lighted in that place; And sone the bacyn has he tane And kest water opon the stane; And sone thare wex withowten fayle, Wind and thonor and rayn and haile. When it was sesed, than saw he The fowles light opon the tre; Thai sang ful fayre opon that thorn, Right als thai had done byforn. And sone he saw cumand a knight Als fast so the fowl in flyght With rude sembland and sterne chere, And hastily he neghed nere. To speke of lufe na time was thare, For aither hated uther ful sare. Togeder smertly gan thai drive, Thaire sheldes sone bigan to ryve, Thaire shaftes cheverd to thaire hand, Bot thai war bath ful wele syttand. Out thai drogh thaire swerdes kene And delt strakes tham bytwene; Al to peces thai hewed thaire sheldes, The culpons flegh out in the feldes. On helmes strake thay so with yre, At ilka strake outbrast the fyre. Aither of tham gude buffettes bede, And nowther wald styr of the stede. Ful kenely thai kyd thaire myght And feyned tham noght forto fight. On thaire hauberkes that men myght ken, The blode out of thaire bodyes ren; Aither on other laid so fast, The batayl might noght lang last. Hauberkes er broken and helmes reven, Stif strakes war thare gyfen; Thai f*ght on hors stifly always; The batel was wele more to prays. Bot at the last Syr Ywayne On his felow kyd his mayne: So egerly he smate him than, He clefe the helme and the hernpan. The knyght wist he was nere ded; To fle than was his best rede, And fast he fled with al hys mayne, And fast folowd Syr Ywayne. Bot he ne might him overtake, Tharfore grete murning gan he make. He folowd him ful stowtlyk And wald have tane him ded or quik. He folowd him to the ceté; Na man lyfand met he. When thai come to the kastel gate, In he folowd fast thareate. At aither entré was, iwys, Straytly wroght a portculis Shod wele with yren and stele And also grunden wonder wele. Under that than was a swyke, That made Syr Ywain to myslike. His hors fote toched thareon Than fel the portculis onone Bytwyx him and his hinder arsown. Thorgh sadel and stede it smate al down, His spores of his heles it schare; Than had Ywaine murnyng mare. Bot so he wend have pa**ed quite, Than fel the tother bifore als tyte. A faire grace yit fel him swa, Al if it smate his hors in twa And his spors of aither hele, That himself pa**ed so wele. Bytwene tha gates now es he tane; Tharfore he mase ful mukel mane, And mikel murnyng gan he ma, For the knyght was went him fra. Als he was stoken in that stall, He herd byhind him in a wall A dore opend faire and wele, And thareout come a damysel. Efter hir the dore sho stak, Ful hinde wordes to him sho spak. "Syr," sho said, "by Saint Myghell, Here thou has a febil ostell. Thou mon be ded, es noght at laine, For my lord that thou has slayne. Seker it es that thou him slogh; My lady makes sorow ynogh And al his menye everilkane. Here has thou famen many ane To be thi bane er thai ful balde. Thou brekes noght out of this halde. And, for thai wate thai may noght fayl, Thai wil the sla in playn batayl." He sayd, "Thai ne sal, so God me rede. For al thaire might do me to dede, Ne no handes opon me lay." Sho said, "Na, sertes, if that I may! Al if thou be here straytly stad, Me think thou ert noght ful adrad. And sir," sho said, "on al wise I aw the honore and servyse. I was in message at the king Bifore this time, whils I was ying; I was noght than savese, Als a damysel aght to be. Fro the tyme that I was lyght In cowrt was none so hend knyght, That unto me than walde take hede, Bot thou allane, God do the mede. Grete honore thou did to me, And that sal I now quite the. I wate, if thou be seldom sene, Thou ert the Kyng son Uriene, And thi name es Sir Ywayne. Of me may thou be sertayne. If thou wil my kownsail leve, Thou sal find na man the to greve; I sal lene the here mi ring, Bot yelde it me at myne askyng. When thou ert broght of al thi payn, Yelde it than to me ogayne. Als the bark hilles the tre, Right so sal my ring do the; When thou in hand has the stane, Dere sal thai do the nane; For the stane es of swilk myght, Of the sal men have na syght." Wit ye wele that Sir Ywayne Of thir wordes was ful fayne. In at the dore sho him led And did him sit opon hir bed. A quylt ful nobil lay thareon, Richer saw he never none. Sho said if he wald any thing, He sold be served at his liking. He said that ete wald he fayn. Sho went and come ful sone ogain; A capon rosted broght sho sone, A clene klath and brede tharone And a pot with riche wine And a pece to fil it yne. He ete and drank with ful gude chere, For tharof had he grete mystere. When he had eten and dronken wele, Grete noyse he herd in the kastele. Thai soght overal him to have slayn, To venge thaire lorde war thai ful bayn Or that the cors in erth was layd. The damysel sone to him sayd, "Now seke thai the fast forto sla, Bot whosoever com or ga, Be thou never the more adred, Ne styr thou noght out of this stede; In this here seke thai wyll, Bot on this bed luke thou be styll, Of tham al mak thou na force. Bot when that thai sal bere the cors Unto the kyrk for to bery, Than sal thou here a sary cry; So sal thai mak a doleful dyn. Than wil thay seke the eft herein; Bot loke thou be of hert lyght, For of the sal thai have no syght. Here sal thou be, mawgré thaire berd, And tharfore be thou noght aferd. Thi famen sal be als the blynd, Both byfor the and byhind, On ilka side sal thou be soght. Now most I ga, bot drede the noght, For I sal do that the es lefe, If al it turn me to mischefe." When sho come unto the gate, Ful many men fand sho tharate Wele armed, and wald ful fayn Have taken and slane Sir Ywaine. Half his stede thare fand thai That within the gates lay; Bot the knight thare fand thai noght: Than was thare mekil sorow unsoght. Dore ne window was thare nane, Whare he myght oway gane. Thai said he sold thare be laft, Or els he cowth of wechecraft, Or he cowth of nygromancy, Or he had wenges forto fly. Hastily than went thai all And soght him in the maydens hall, In chambers high (es noght at hide), And in solers on ilka side. Sir Ywaine saw ful wele al that, And still opon the bed he sat. Thare was nane that anes mynt Unto the bed at smyte a dynt; Al obout thai smate so fast, That mani of thaire wapins brast. Mekyl sorow thai made ilkane, For thai ne myght wreke thaire lord bane. Thai went oway with dreri chere, And sone thare efter come the bere. A lady folowd white so mylk, In al that land was none swilk; Sho wrang hir fingers, outbrast the blode. For mekyl wa sho was nere wode. Hir fayre hare scho al todrogh, And ful oft fel sho down in swogh; Sho wepe with a ful dreri voice. The hali water and the Croyce Was born bifore the procession; Thare folowd mani a moder son; Bifore the cors rade a knyght On his stede that was ful wight, In his armurs wele arayd, With spere and target gudely grayd. Than Sir Ywayn herd the cry And the dole of that fayre lady; For more sorow myght nane have, Than sho had when he went to grave. Prestes and monkes on thaire wyse Ful solempnly did the servyse. Als Lunet thare stode in the thrang, Until Sir Ywaine thoght hir lang. Out of the thrang the wai sho tase, Unto Sir Ywaine fast sho gase. Sho said, "Sir, how ertow stad? I hope ful wele thou has bene rad." "Sertes," he said, "thou sais wele thare; So abayst was I never are." He said, "Leman, I pray the, If it any wise may be, That I might luke a litel throw Out at sum hole or sum window, For wonder fayn," he sayd, "wald I Have a sight of the lady." The maiden than ful sone unshet In a place a prevé weket. Thare of the lady he had a syght. Lowd sho cried to God almyght, "Of his sins do hym pardowne, For sertanly in no regyowne Was never knight of his bewté, Ne efter him sal never nane be; In al the werld fro end to ende Es none so curtayse ne so hende. God grant the grace thou mai won In hevyn with His owyn son; For so large lifes none in lede Ne none so doghty of gude dede." When sho had thus made hir spell, In swownyng ful oft sithes sho fell. Now lat we the lady be, And of Sir Ywaine speke we. Luf, that es so mekil of mayne, Sare had wownded Sir Ywayne, That whareso he sal ride or ga, His hert sho has that es his fa. 1 His hert he has set al bydene, Whare himself dar noght be sene. Bot thus in langing bides he And hopes that it sal better be. Al that war at the enterement, Toke thaire leve at the lady gent, And hame now er thai halely gane; And the lady left allane Dweland with hir chamberere And other mo that war hir dere. Than bigan hir noyes al new, For sorow failed hir hide and hew. Unto his sawl was sho ful hulde; Opon a sawter al of gulde To say the salmes fast sho bigan And toke no tent unto no man. Than had Sir Ywain mekyl drede, For he hoped noght to spede; He said, "I am mekil to blame, That I luf tham that wald me shame. Bot yit I wite hir al with wogh, Sen that I hir lord slogh. I can noght se by nakyn gyn, How that I hir luf sold wyn. That lady es ful gent and small, Hir yghen clere als es cristall; Sertes thare es no man olive, That kowth hir bewtese wele descrive." Thus was Syr Ywayne sted that sesowne; He wroght ful mekyl ogayns resowne To set his luf in swilk a stede, Whare thai hated him to the dede. He sayd he sold have hir to wive, Or els he sold lose his lyve. Thus als he in stody sat, The mayden come to him with that. Sho sayd, "How hasto farn this day, Sen that I went fro the oway?" Sone sho saw him pale and wan, Sho wist wele what him ayled than. Sho said, "I wote thi hert es set, And sertes I ne sal noght it let; Bot I sal help the fra presowne And bring the to thi warisowne." He said, "Sertes, damysele, Out of this place wil I noght stele; Bot I wil wende by dayes lyght, That men may of me have sight Opinly on ilka syde. Worth of me what so bityde, Manly wil I hethin wende." Than answerd tha mayden hende, "Sir, thow sal wend with honowre, For thou sal have ful gude socowre. Bot, sir, thou sal be here sertayne A while unto I cum ogayne." Sho kend al trewly his entent, And tharfore es sho wightly went Unto the lady faire and bright, For unto hir right wele sho myght Say whatsom hyr willes es. For sho was al hir maystres, Her keper, and hir cownsaylere. To hir sho said, als ye sal here, Bytwix tham twa in gude cownsayl, "Madame," sho sayd, "I have mervayl That ye sorow thus ever on ane. For Goddes luf, lat be yowre mane. Ye sold think over alkyn thyng Of the Kinges Arthurgh cumyng. Menes yow noght of the message Of the Damysel Savage, That in hir lettre to yow send? Allas, who sal yow now defend Yowre land and al that es thareyn, Sen ye wil never of wepeing blyn? A, madame, takes tent to me. Ye ne have na knyght in this c*ntré, That durst right now his body bede Forto do a doghty dede, Ne forto bide the mekil boste Of King Arthurgh and of his oste; And if he find none hym ogayn, Yowre landes er lorn, this es sertayn." The lady understode ful wele, How sho hyr cownsaild ilka dele; Sho bad hyr go hir way smertly, And that sho war na more hardy Swilk wordes to hyr at speke; For wa hir hert wold al tobreke. Sho bad, "Go wightly hethin oway." Than the maiden thus gan say, "Madame, it es oft wemens will Tham forto blame that sais tham scill." Sho went oway, als sho noght roght, And than the lady hyr bythoght, That the maiden said no wrang, And so sho sat in stody lang. In stody thus allane sho sat; The mayden come ogayn with that. "Madame," sho said, "ye er a barn; Thus may ye sone yowre self forfarn." Sho sayd, "Chastise thi hert, madame; To swilk a lady it es grete shame Thus to wepe and make slike cry; Think opon thi grete gentri. Trowes thou the flowre of chevalry Sold al with thi lord dy And with him be put in molde? God forbede that it so solde! Als gude als he and better bene." "Thou lyes," sho sayd, "by hevyn-quene! Lat se if thoue me tel kan, Whar es any so doghty man, Als he was that wedded me." "Yis, and ye kun me na mawgré, And that ye mak me sekernes, That ye sal luf me never the les." Sho said, "Thou may be ful sertayn, That for na thing that thou mai sayn, Wil I me wreth on nane manere." "Madame," sho said, "than sal ye here; I sal yow tel a preveté, And na ma sal it wit bot we. Yf twa knyghtes be in the felde On twa stedes with spere and shelde And the tane the tother may sla, Whether es the better of tha?" Sho said, "He that has the bataile." "Ya," said the mayden, "sawnfayle, The knyght that lifes es mare of maine Than yowre lord that was slayne. Yowre lord fled out of the place, And the tother gan hym chace Heder into his awyn halde; Thare may ye wit, he was ful balde." The lady said, "This es grete scorne, That thou nevyns him me biforne; Thou sais nowther soth ne right. Swith, out of myne eghen syght!" The mayden said, "So mot I the, Thus ne hight ye noght me, That ye sold so me myssay," With that sho turned hir oway, And hastily sho went ogayn Unto the chameber to Sir Ywayne. The lady thoght than al the nyght, How that sho had na knyght Forto seke hir land thorghout To kepe Arthurgh and hys rowt. Than bigan hir forto shame And hirself fast forto blame. Unto hirself fast gan sho flyte And said, "With wrang now I hir wite. Now hopes sho I wil never mare Luf hir als I have done are. I wil hir luf with main and mode; For that sho said was for my gode." On the morn the mayden rase, And unto chamber sone sho gase. Thare sho fyndes the faire lady Hingand hir hevyd ful drerily In the place whare sho hir left; And ilka dele sho talde hir eft, Als sho had said to hir bifore. Than said the lady, "Me rewes sore, That I missayd the yisterday. I wil amend, if that I may. Of that knyght now wald I here, What he war and whethen he were. I wate that I have sayd omys; Now wil I do als thou me wys. Tel me baldely, or thou blin, If he be cumen of gentil kyn." "Madame," sho said, "I dar warand, A genteler lord es none lifand; The hendest man ye sal him fynde, That ever come of Adams kynde." "How hat he? Sai me for sertayne." "Madame," sho said, "Sir Ywayne; So gentil knight have ye noght sene; He es the King son Uryene." Sho held hir paid of that tithyng, For that his fader was a kyng; "Do me have him here in my sight Bitwene this and the thrid night And are, if that it are myght be. Me langes sare him forto se; Bring him, if thou mai, this night." "Madame," sho sayd, "that I ne might, For his wonyng es hethin oway More than the jorné of a day. Bot I have a wele rinand page, Wil stirt thider right in a stage And bring him by to-morn at nyght." The lady saide, "Loke yf he myght To-morn by evyn be here ogayn." Sho said, "Madame, with al his mayn." "Bid him hy on alkyn wyse. He sal be quit wele his servyse; Avancement sal be hys bone, If he wil do this erand sone." "Madame," sho said, "I dar yow hight To have him here or the thrid nyght. Towhils, efter yowre kownsayl send And ask tham wha sal yow defend Yowre well, yowre land, kastel, and towre Ogayns the nobil King Arthure. For thare es nane of tham ilkane, That dar the batel undertane. Than sal ye say, "Nedes bus me take A lorde to do that ye forsake." Nedes bus yow have sum nobil knyght, That wil and may defend yowre right; And sais also, to suffer ded Ye wil noght do out of thaire rede. Of that worde sal thai be blyth And thank yow ful many sithe." The lady said, "By God of myght, I sal areson tham this night. Me think thou dwelles ful lang here; Send forth swith the messangere." Than was the lady blith and glad. Sho did al als hir mayden bad. Efter hir cownsail sho sent onane. And bad thai sold cum sone ilkane. The maiden redies hyr ful rath. Bilive sho gert Syr Ywaine bath And cled him sethin in gude scarlet Forord wele and with gold fret, A girdel ful riche for the nanes Of perry and of preciows stanes. Sho talde him al how he sold do, When that he come the lady to. And thus when he was al redy, Sho went and talde to hyr lady, That cumen was hir messagere. Sho said smertly, "Do lat me here, Cumes he sone, als have thou wyn?" "Medame," sho said, "I sal noght blin, Or that he be byfor yow here." Than said the lady with light chere, "Go bring him heder prevely, That none wit bot thou and I." Than the maiden went ogayn Hastily to Sir Ywayn. "Sir," sho sayd, "als have I wyn, My lady wate thou ert hereyn. To cum bifore hir luke thou be balde, And tak gode tent what I have talde." By the hand sho toke the knyght And led him unto chamber right Byfor hir lady (es noght at layne), And of that come was sho ful fayne. Bot yit Sir Ywayne had grete drede, When he unto chamber yede. The chamber flore and als the bed With klothes of gold was al overspred. Hir thoght he was withowten lac, Bot no word to him sho spak. And he for dred oway he drogh. Than the mayden stode and logh. Sho sayd, "Mawgré have that knyght That haves of swilk a lady syght And can noght shew to hir his nede. Cum furth, sir; the thar noght drede, That mi lady wil the smyte; Sho loves the wele withouten lite. Pray to hir of hir mercy, And for thi sake right so sal I, That sho forgif the in this stede Of Salados the Rouse ded, That was hir lord, that thou has slayne." On knese him set than Syr Ywaine. "Madame, I yelde me yow untill Ever to be at yowre wyll; Yf that I might, I ne wald noght fle." Sho said, "Nay, whi sold so be? To ded yf I gert do the now, To me it war ful litel prow. Bot for I find the so bowsum, That thou wald thus to me cum, And for thou dose the in my grace, I forgif the thi trispase. Syt down," sho said, "and lat me here, Why thou ert thus debo*ere." "Madame," he said, "anis with a luke, Al my hert with the thou toke. Sen I first of the had syght, Have I the lufed with al my might. To mo than the, mi lady hende, Sal never more my luf wende. For thi luf ever I am redy Lely forto lif or dy." Sho said, "Dar thou wele undertake In my land pese forto make And forto maintene al mi rightes Ogayns King Arthure and his knyghtes?" He said, "That dar I undertane Ogaynes ilka lyfand man." Swilk kownsail byfore had sho tane. Sho said, "Sir, than er we at ane." Hir barons hir ful rathly red To tak a lord hir forto wed. Than hastily sho went to hall; Thare abade hir barons all Forto hald thaire parlement And mari hir by thaire asent. Sho sayd, "Sirs, with an acorde, Sen me bus nedely have a lord My landes forto lede and yeme, Sais me sone howe ye wil deme." "Madame," thai said, "how so ye will, Al we sal a**ent thartyll." Than the lady went ogayne Unto chameber to Sir Ywaine. "Sir," sho said, "so God me save, Other lorde wil I nane have. If I the left, I did noght right, A king son and a noble knyght." Now has the maiden done hir thoght: Sir Ywayne out of anger broght. The lady led him unto hall; Ogains him rase the barons all. And al thai said ful sekerly: "This knight sal wed the lady." And ilkane said thamself bitwene (So faire a man had thai noght sene), "For his bewté in hal and bowre Him semes to be an emperowre. We wald that thai war trowth-plight And weded sone this ilk nyght." The lady set hir on the dese And cumand al to hald thaire pese, And bad hir steward sumwhat say, Or men went fra cowrt oway. The steward said, "Sirs, understandes, Were es waxen in thir landes: The king Arthure es redy dight To be here byn this fowretenyght. He and his menye ha thoght To win this land if thai moght. Thai wate ful wele that he es ded, That was lord here in this stede. None es so wight wapins to welde Ne that so boldly mai us belde. And wemen may maintene no stowre - Thai most nedes have a governowre. Tharfor mi lady most nede Be weded hastily for drede; And to na lord wil sho tak tent, Bot if it be by yowre a**ent." Than the lordes al on raw Held tham wele payd of this saw; Al a**ented hyr untill To tak a lord at hyr owyn wyll. Than said the lady onone right, "How hald ye yow paid of this knight? He profers hym on al wyse To myne honore and my servyse. And sertes, sirs, the soth to say, I saw him never or this day; Bot talde unto me has it bene, He es the kyng son Uriene. He es cumen of hegh parage And wonder doghty of va**elage. War and wise and ful curtayse, He yernes me to wife alwayse. And nere the lese, I wate, he might Have wele better, and so war right." With a voice halely thai sayd, "Madame, ful wele we hald us payd. Bot hastes fast, al that ye may, That ye war wedded this ilk day." And grete prayer gan thai make On al wise, that sho suld hym take. Sone unto the kirk thai went And war wedded in thaire present. Thare wedded Ywaine in plevyne The riche lady Alundyne, The dukes doghter of Landuit; Els had hyr lande bene destruyt. Thus thai made the maryage Omang al the riche barnage. Thai made ful mekyl mirth that day, Ful grete festes on gude aray. Grete mirthes made thai in that stede, And al forgetyn es now the ded Of him that was thaire lord fre. Thai say that this es worth swilk thre, And that thai lufed him mekil more Than him that lord was thare byfore.