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

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

The bridal sat, for soth to tell, Til Kyng Arthure come to the well With al his knyghtes everilkane; Byhind leved thare noght ane. Than sayd Sir Kay, "Now, whare es he That made slike bost here forto be Forto venge his cosyn germayne? I wist his wordes war al in vayne. He made grete boste bifor the quene, And here now dar he noght be sene. His prowd wordes er now al purst, For, in fayth, ful ill he durst Anes luke opon that knyght That he made bost with to fyght." Than sayd Gawayn hastily: "Syr, for Goddes luf, mercy! For I dar hete the for sertayne, That we sal here of Sir Ywayne This ilk day, that be thou balde, Bot he be ded or done in halde; And never in no cumpany Herd I him speke the velany." Than sayd Sir Kay, "Lo, at thi will Fra this time forth I sal be still." The king kest water on the stane; The storme rase ful sone onane With wikked weders, kene and calde, Als it was byforehand talde. The king and his men ilkane Wend tharwith to have bene slane, So blew it store with slete and rayn; And hastily than Syr Ywayne Dight him graythly in his gere With nobil shelde and strong spere. When he was dight in seker wede, Than he umstrade a nobil stede. Him thoght that he was als lyght Als a fowl es to the flyght. Unto the well fast wendes he, And sone, when thai myght him se, Syr Kay (for he wald noght fayle) Smertly askes the batayl. And alsone than said the kyng, "Sir Kay, I grante the thine askyng." Than Sir Ywayn neghed tham nere Thaire cowntenance to se and here. Sir Kay than on his stede gan spring; "Bere the wele now," sayd the kyng. Ful glad and blith was Syr Ywayne, When Sir Kay come him ogayn. Bot Kay wist noght wha it was; He findes his fere now or he pas. Syr Ywaine thinkes now to be wroken On the grete wordes that Kay has spoken. Thai rade togeder with speres kene; Thare was no reverence tham bitwene. Sir Ywayn gan Sir Kay bere Out of his sadel lenkith of his spere; His helm unto the erth smate; A fote depe tharein yt bate. He wald do him na more despite, Bot down he lighted als tyte. Syr Kay stede he toke in hy And presand the king ful curtaysly. Wonder glad than war thai all That Kay so fowl a shame gan fall; And ilkone sayd til other then, "This es he that scornes al men"; Of his wa war thai wele paid. Syr Ywain than to the kyng said, "Sir Kyng, I gif to the this stede, For he may help the in thi nede; And to me war it grete trispas Forto withhald that yowres was." "What man ertow?" quod the kyng; "Of the have I ne knawyng, Bot if thou unarmed were Or els thi name that I might here." "Lord," he sayd, "I am Ywayne." Than was the king ferly fayne; A sari man than was Sir Kay, That said that he was stollen oway; Al descumfite he lay on grownde, To him that was a sary stownde. The king and his men war ful glad, That they so Sir Ywayne had, And ful glad was Sir Gawayne Of the welefare of Sir Ywayne. For nane was to him half so dere Of al that in the court were. The king Sir Ywayn sone bisoght To tel him al how he had wroght; And sone Sir Ywaine gan him tell Of al his fare how it byfell: With the knight how that he sped, And how he had the lady wed, And how the mayden hym helped wele. Thus tald he to him ilka dele. "Sir King," he sayd, "I yow byseke And al yowre menye milde and meke, That ye wald grante to me that grace At wend with me to my purchace, And se my kastel and my towre; Than myght ye do me grete honowre." The kyng granted him ful right To dwel with him a fowretenyght. Sir Ywayne thanked him oft sith; The knyghtes war al glad and blyth With Sir Ywaine forto wend. And sone a squier has he send; Unto the kastel the way he nome And warned the lady of thaire come, And that his lord come with the kyng. And when the lady herd this thing, It es no lifand man with mowth, That half hir cumforth tel kowth. Hastily that lady hende Cumand al hir men to wende And dight tham in thaire best aray To kepe the king that ilk day. Thai keped him in riche wede Rydeand on many a nobil stede; Thai hailsed him ful curtaysly And also al his cumpany. Thai said he was worthy to dowt, That so fele folk led obowt. Thare was grete joy, I yow bihete, With clothes spred in ilka strete And damysels danceand ful wele With trompes, pipes, and with fristele. The castel and the ceté rang With mynstralsi and nobil sang. Thai ordand tham ilkane infere To kepe the king on faire manere. The lady went withowten towne And with hir many bald barowne Cled in purpure and ermyne With girdels al of gold ful fyne, The lady made ful meri chere; Sho was al dight with drewries dere. Abowt hir was ful mekyl thrang; The puple cried and sayd omang, "Welkum ertou, Kyng Arthoure - Of al this werld thou beres the flowre. Lord Kyng of all kynges, And blissed be he that the brynges." When the lady the kyng saw, Unto him fast gan sho draw To hald his sterap whils he lyght. Bot sone, when he of hir had syght, With mekyl myrth thai samen met. With hende wordes sho him gret, "A thowsand sithes welkum," sho says, "And so es Sir Gawayne the curtayse." The king said, "Lady white so flowre, God gif the joy and mekil honowre, For thou ert fayre with body gent." With that he hir in armes hent, And ful faire he gan hir falde. Thare was many to bihalde. It es no man with tong may tell The mirth that was tham omell. Of maidens was thare so gude wane, That ilka knight myght tak ane. Ful mekil joy Syr Ywayn made That he the king til his hows hade; The lady omang tham al samen Made ful mekyl joy and gamen. In the kastel thus thai dwell, Ful mekyl myrth wase tham omell; The king was thare with his knyghtes Aght dayes and aght nyghtes; And Ywayn tham ful mery made With alkyn gamyn tham forto glade. He prayed the kyng to thank the may, That hym had helpid in his jornay; And ilk day had thai solace sere Of huntyng and als of revere; For thare was a ful fayre c*ntré With wodes and parkes grete plenté, And castels wroght with lyme and stane, That Ywayne with his wife had tane. Now wil the king no langer lende, Bot til his c*ntré wil he wende. Aywhils thai war thare, for sertayne, Syr Gawayn did al his mayne To pray Sir Ywaine on al manere Forto wende with tham infere. He said, "Sir, if thou ly at hame, Wonderly men wil the blame. That knight es no thing to set by That leves al his chevalry And ligges bekeand in his bed, When he haves a lady wed. For when that he has grete endose, Than war tyme to win his lose; For when a knyght es chevalrouse, His lady es the more jelows. Also sho lufes him wele the bet. Tharfore, sir, thou sal noght let To haunt armes in ilk c*ntré; Than wil men wele more prayse the. Thou hase inogh to thi despens; Now may thow wele hante turnamentes. Thou and I sal wende infere, And I will be at thi banere. I dar noght say, so God me glad, If I so fayre a leman had, That I ne most leve al chevalry At hame ydel with hir to ly. Bot yit a fole that litel kan, May wele cownsail another man." So lang Sir Gawayn prayed so, Syr Ywayne grantes him forto go Unto the lady and tak his leve; Loth him was hir forto greve. Til hyr onane the way he nome, Bot sho ne wist noght whi he come. In his arms he gan hir mete, And thus he said, "My leman swete, My life, my hele, and al my hert, My joy, my comforth, and my quert, A thing prai I the unto For thine honore and myne also." The lady said, "Sir, verrayment, I wil do al yowre cumandment." "Dame," he said, "I wil the pray, That I might the king cumvay And also with my feres founde Armes forto haunte a stownde. For in bourding men wald me blame, If I sold now dwel at hame." The lady was loth him to greve. "Sir," sho said, "I gif yow leve Until a terme that I sal sayn, Bot that ye cum than ogayn! Al this yere hale I yow grante Dedes of armes forto hante; Bot, syr, als ye luf me dere, On al wise that ye be here This day twelmoth how som it be, For the luf ye aw to me. And if ye com noght by that day, My luf sal ye lose for ay. Avise yow wele now or ye gone. This day es the evyn of Saint Jon; That warn I yow now or ye wende, Luke ye cum by the twelmoth ende." "Dame," he sayd, "I sal noght let To hald the day that thou has set; And if I might be at my wyll, Ful oft are sold I cum the till. Bot, madame, this understandes: A man that pa**es divers landes, May sum tyme cum in grete destres, In preson or els in sekenes; Tharfore I pray yow, or I ga, That ye wil out-tak thir twa." The lady sayd, "This grant I wele, Als ye ask, everilka dele; And I sal lene to yow my ring, That es to me a ful dere thing. In nane anger sal ye be, Whils ye it have and thinkes on me. I sal tel to yow onane The vertu that es in the stane: It es na preson thow sal halde, Al if yowre fase be manyfalde; With sekenes sal ye noght be tane, Ne of yowre blode ye sal lese nane; In batel tane sal ye noght be, Whils ye it have and thinkes on me; And ay, whils ye er trew of love, Over al sal ye be obove. I wald never for nakyn wight Lene it are unto na knyght. For grete luf I it yow take; Yemes it wele now for my sake." Sir Ywayne said, "Dame, gramercy!" Than he gert ordain in hy Armurs and al other gere, Stalworth stedes, both sheld and spere, And also squyere, knave, and swayne. Ful glad and blith was Sir Gawayne. No lenger wald Syr Ywayne byde, On his stede sone gan he stride And thus he has his leve tane. For him murned many ane. The lady took leve of the kyng And of his menye, ald and ying; Hir lord, Sir Ywayne, sho bisekes With teris trikland on hir chekes, On al wise that he noght let To halde the day that he had set. The knightes thus thaire ways er went To justing and to turnament. Ful dughtily did Sir Ywayne, And also did Sir Gawayne; Thai war ful doghty both infere, Thai wan the prise both fer and nere. The kyng that time at Cester lay; The knightes went tham forto play. Ful really thai rade obout Al that twelmoth out and out To justing and to turnament; Thai wan grete wirships, als thai went; Sir Ywayne oft had al the lose, Of him the word ful wide gose; Of thaire dedes was grete renown To and fra in towre and towne. On this wise in this life they last, Unto Saint Johns day was past. Then hastily they hied home And sone unto the kyng thai come; And thare thai held grete mangeri, The kyng with al his cumpany. Sir Ywaine umbithoght him than, He had forgeten his leman. "Broken I have hir cumandment. Sertes," he said, "now be I shent; The terme es past that sho me set. How ever sal this bale be bet? Unnethes he might him hald fra wepe. And right in this than toke he kepe, Into court come a damysele On a palfray ambland wele; And egerly down gan sho lyght Withouten help of knave or knyght. And sone sho lete hyr mantel fall And hasted hir fast into hall. "Syr Kyng," sho sayde, "God mot the se, My lady gretes the wele by me, And also Sir gude Gawayne And al thi knyghtes bot Sir Ywayne. He es ateyned for trayture, A fals and lither losenjoure; He has bytrayed my lady, But sho es war with his gilry. Sho hopid noght, the soth to say, That he wald so have stollen oway. He made to hir ful mekyl boste And said, of al he lufed hir moste. Al was treson and trechery, And that he sal ful dere haby. It es ful mekyl ogains the right To cal so fals a man a knight. My lady wend he had hir hert Ay forto kepe and hald in quert, Bot now with grefe he has hir gret And broken the term that sho him set, That was the evyn of Saynt John; Now es that tyme for ever gone. So lang gaf sho him respite, And thus he haves hir led with lite. Sertainly, so fals a fode Was never cumen of kynges blode, That so sone forgat his wyfe, That lofed him better than hyr life." Til Ywayne sais sho thus, "Thou es Traytur untrew and trowthles And also an unkind cumlyng. Deliver me my lady ring! Sho stirt to him with sterne loke, The ring fro his finger sho toke; And alsone als sho had the ring, Hir leve toke sho of the king And stirted up on hir palfray. Withowten more sho went hir way; With hir was nowther knave ne grome, Ne no man wist where sho bycome. Sir Ywayn, when he this gan here, Murned and made simpil chere; In sorrow than so was he stad, That nere for murning wex he mad. It was no mirth that him myght mend; At worth to noght ful wele he wend, For wa he es ful wil of wane. "Allas, I am myne owin bane; Allas," he sayd, "that I was born, Have I my leman thus forlorn, And al es for myne owen foly. Allas, this dole wil mak me dy." An evyl toke him als he stode; For wa he wex al wilde and wode. Unto the wod the way he nome; No man wist who*e he bycome. Obout he welk in the forest, Als it wore a wilde beste; His men on ilka syde has soght Fer and nere and findes him noght. On a day als Ywayne ran In the wod, he met a man; Arowes brade and bow had he, And when Sir Ywayne gan him se, To him he stirt with bir ful grim, His bow and arwes reft he him. Ilka day than at the leste Shot he him a wilde beste; Fless he wan him ful gude wane, And of his arows lost he nane. Thare he lifed a grete sesowne; With rotes amd raw venysowne; He drank of the warm blode, And that did him mekil gode. Als he went in that boskage, He fand a litil ermytage. The ermyte saw and sone was war, A naked man a bow bare. He hoped he was wode that tide; Tharfore no lenger durst he bide. He sperd his gate and in he ran Forfered of that wode man; And for him thoght it charité, Out at his window set he Brede and water for the wode man; And tharto ful sone he ran. Swilk als he had, swilk he him gaf, Barly-brede with al the chaf; Tharof ete he ful gude wane, And are swilk ete he never nane. Of the water he drank tharwith; Than ran he forth into the frith, For if a man be never so wode, He wil kum whare man dose him gode, And, sertanly, so did Ywayne. Everilka day he come ogayne, And with him broght he redy boun Ilka day new venisowne; He laid it at the ermite gate And ete and drank and went his gate. Ever alsone als he was gane, The ermyt toke the flesh onane; He flogh it and seth it fayre and wele; Than had Ywayne at ilka mele Brede and sothen venysowne. Than went the ermyte to the towne And salde the skinnes that he broght, And better brede tharwith he boght; Than fand Sir Ywayne in that stede Venyson and better brede. This life led he ful fele yere, And sethen he wroght als ye sal here. Als Ywaine sleped under a tre, By him come thare rideand thre: A lady, twa bourewemen alswa. Than spak ane of the maidens twa, "A naked man me think I se; Wit I wil what it may be." Sho lighted doun and to him yede, And unto him sho toke gude hede; Hir thoght wele sho had him sene In many stedes whare sho had bene. Sho was astonyd in that stownde, For in hys face sho saw a wonde, Bot it was heled and hale of hew; Tharby, hir thoght, that sho him knew. Sho sayd, "By God that me has made, Swilk a wound Sir Ywayne hade. Sertaynly, this ilk es he. Allas," sho sayd, "how may this be? Allas, that him es thus bityd, So nobil a knyght als he was kyd. It es grete sorow that he sold be So ugly now opon to se." So tenderly for him sho gret, That hir teres al hir chekes wet. "Madame," sho said, "for sertayn, Here have we funden Sir Ywayne, The best knyght that on grund mai ga. Allas, him es bytid so wa; In sum sorow was he stad, And tharfore es he waxen mad. Sorow wil meng a mans blode And make him forto wax wode. Madame, and he war now in quert And al hale of will and hert, Ogayns yowre fa he wald yow were, That has yow done so mekyl dere. And he ware hale, so God me mend, Yowre sorow war sone broght to end." The lady said, "And this ilk be he And than he wil noght hethin fle, Thorgh Goddes help than, hope I yit We sal him win ynto his wyt. Swith at hame I wald we were, For thare I have an unement dere; Morgan the Wise gaf it to me And said als I sal tel to the. He sayd, "This unement es so gode, That if a man be braynwode And he war anes anoynt with yt, Smertly sold he have his wit." Fro hame thai wer bot half a myle; Theder come thai in a whyle. The lady sone the boyst has soght, And the unement has sho broght. "Have," sho said, "this unement here, Unto me it es ful dere; And smertly that thou wend ogayne. Bot luke thou spend it noght in vaine; And fra the knight anoynted be, That thou leves, bring it to me." Hastily that maiden meke Tok hose and shose and serk and breke. A riche robe als gan sho ta And a saint of silk alswa And also a gude palfray, And smertly come sho whare he lay. On slepe fast yit sho him fande. Hir hors until a tre sho band, And hastily to him sho yede, And that was ful hardy dede. Sho enoynt hys heved wele And his body ilka dele. Sho despended al the unement Over hir ladies cumandment. For hir lady wald sho noght let; Hir thoght that it was ful wele set. Al his atyre sho left hym by At his rising to be redy That he might him cleth and dyght, Or he sold of hyr have syght. Than he wakend of his slepe; The maiden to him toke gude kepe; He luked up ful sarily And said, "Lady Saynt Mary, What hard grace to me es maked, That I am here now thus naked? Allas, wher any have here bene? I trow, sum has my sorow sene." Lang he sat so in a thoght, How that gere was theder broght. Than had he noght so mekyl myght On his fote to stand upright; Him failed might of fote and hand, That he myght nowther ga ne stand. Bot yit his clathes on he wan; Tharfore ful wery was he than. Than had he mister forto mete Sum man that myght his bales bete. Than lepe the maiden on hir palfray And nere byside him made hir way. Sho lete als sho him noght had sene Ne wetyn that he thare had bene. Sone when he of hir had syght, He cried unto hyr on hight. Than wald sho no ferrer ride, Bot fast sho luked on ilka syde And waited obout fer and nere. He cried and sayd, "I am here." Than sone sho rade him till And sayd, "Sir, what es thi will?" "Lady, thi help war me ful lefe, For I am here in grete meschefe. I ne wate never by what chance That I have al this grevance. Thar charité I walde the pray Forto lene me that palfray, That in thi hand es redy bowne And wis me sone unto som towne. I wate noght how I had this wa, Ne how that I sal hethin ga." Sho answered him with wordes hende, "Syr, if thou wil with me wende, Ful gladly wil I ese the, Until that thou amended be." Sho helped him up on his hors ryg, And sone thai come until a bryg; Into the water the boist sho cast, And sethin hame sho hied fast. When thai come to the castel gate, Thai lighted and went in tharate. The maiden to the chameber went; The lady asked the unement. "Madame," sho said, "the boyst es lorn, And so was I nerehand tharforn." "How so," sho said, "for Goddes Tre?" "Madame," she said, "I sal tel the Al the soth how that it was. Als I over the brig sold pas, Evyn in myddes, the soth to say, Thare stombild my palfray; On the brig he fell al flat, And the boyst right with that Fel fra me in the water down; And had I noght bene titter boun To tak my palfray by the mane, The water sone had bene my bane." The lady said, "Now am I shent, That I have lorn my gude unement; It was to me, so God me glade, The best tresure that ever I hade. To me it es ful mekil skath, Bot better es lose it than yow bath. "Wend," sho said, "unto the knight And luke thou ese him at thi myght." "Lady," sho said, "els war me lathe." Than sho gert him washe and bathe And gaf him mete and drink of main, Til he had geten his might ogayn. Thai ordand armurs ful wele dight, And so thai did stedes ful wight. So it fell sone on a day, Whils he in the castel lay, The ryche eryl, Syr Alers, With knightes, serjantes and swiers, And with swith grete vetale Come that kastel to asayle. Sir Ywain than his armurs tase With other socure that he hase. The erel he kepes in the felde, And sone he hit ane on the shelde, That the knyght and als the stede Stark ded to the erth thai yede. Sone another, the thrid, the ferth Feld he doun ded on the erth; He stird him so omang tham than, At ilka dint he slogh a man. Sum he losed of hys men, Bot the eril lost swilk ten. Al thai fled fast fra that syde, Whare thai saw Sir Ywayn ride. He herted so his cumpany, The moste coward was ful hardy To fel al that thai fand in felde. The lady lay ever and bihelde; Sho sais, "Yon es a nobil knyght, Ful eger and of ful grete myght; He es wele worthy forto prayse, That es so doghty and curtayse." The mayden said, "Withowten let, Yowre oynement may ye think wele set; Sese, madame, how he prikes, And sese also how fele he stikes Lo, how he fars omang his fase; Al that he hittes sone he slase. War thare swilk other twa als he, Than, hope I, sone thaire fase sold fle. Sertes, than sold we se ful tyte, The eril sold be descumfite. Madame, God gif, his wil were To wed yow and be loverd here." The erils folk went fast to ded; To fle than was his best rede. The eril sone bigan to fle, And than might men bourd se, How Sir Ywayne and his feres Folowd tham on fel maners; And fast thai slogh the erils men, Olive thai left noght over ten. The eril fled ful fast for drede, And than Sir Ywaine strake his stede And overtoke him in that tide At a kastel thar bysyde. Sir Ywayne sone withset the gate, That the eril myght noght in tharate. The eril saw al might noght gain; He yalde him sone to Sir Ywayn. And sone he has his trowth plyght To wend with him that ilk night Unto the lady of grete renowne And profer him to hir presowne, And to do him in hir grace And also to mend his trispase. The eril than unarmed his hevid, And none armure on him he levid. Helm, shelde, and als his brand, That he bare naked in his hand, Al he gaf to Sir Ywayne, And hame with him he went ogaine. In the kastel made thai joy ilkane, When thai wist the eril was tane. And, when thai saw tham cumand nere, Ogayns him went thai al infere; And when the lady gan tham mete, Sir Ywaine gudely gan hir grete. He said, "Madame, have thi presoun And hald him here in thi baundoun." Bot he gert hir grante him grace To mak amendes yn that space. On a buke the erl sware Forto restore bath les and mare, And big ogayn bath toure and toune, That by him war casten doune, And evermare to be hir frende. Umage made he to that hende; To this forward he borows fand, The best lordes of al that land. Sir Ywaine wald no lenger lend, Bot redies him fast forto wend. At the lady his leve he takes, Grete murnyng tharfore sho makes. Sho said, "Sir, if it be yowre will, I pray yow forto dwel here still; And I wil yelde into yowre handes Myne awyn body and al my landes." Hereof fast sho hym bysoght, Bot al hir speche avayles noght. He said, "I wil no thing to mede Bot myne armurs and my stede." Sho said, "Bath stede and other thing Es yowres at yowre owyn likyng; And if ye walde here with us dwell, Mekyl mirth war us omell." It was na bote to bid him bide, He toke his stede and on gan stride; The lady and hyr maydens gent Wepid sare when that he went. Now rides Ywayn als ye sal here, With hevy herte and dreri chere Thurgh a forest by a sty; And thare he herd a hydose cry. The gaynest way ful sone he tase, Til he come whare the noys was. Than was he war of a dragoun, Had asayled a wilde lyown; With his tayl he drogh him fast, And fire ever on him he cast. The lyoun had over litel myght Ogaynes the dragon forto fyght. Than Sir Ywayn made him bown Forto sucore the lyown; His shelde bifore his face he fest For the fyre that the dragon kest; He strake the dragon in at the chavyl, That it come out at the navyl. Sunder strake he the throte-boll, That fra the body went the choll. By the lioun tail the hevid hang yit, For tharby had he tane his bit; The tail Sir Ywayne strake in twa, The dragon hevid than fel tharfra. He thoght, "If the lyoun me asayle, Redy sal he have batayle." Bot the lyoun wald noght fyght. Grete fawnyng made he to the knyght. Down on the grund he set him oft, His fortherfete he held oloft, And thanked the knyght als he kowth, Al if he myght noght speke with mowth; So wele the lyon of him lete, Ful law he lay and likked his fete. When Syr Ywayne that sight gan se, Of the beste him thoght peté, And on his wai forth gan he ride; The lyown folowd by hys syde. In the forest al that day The lyoun mekely foloud ay, And never for wele ne for wa Wald he part Sir Ywayn fra. Thus in the forest als thai ware, The lyoun hungerd swith sare. Of a beste savore he hade; Until hys lord sembland he made, That he wald go to get his pray; His kind it wald, the soth to say. For his lorde sold him noght greve, He wald noght go withowten leve. Fra his lord the way he laght The mountance of ane arow-draght; Sone he met a barayn da, And ful sone he gan hir sla; Hir throte in twa ful sone he bate And drank the blode whils it was hate. That da he kest than in his nek, Als it war a mele sek. Unto his lorde than he it bare; And Sir Ywayn parsayved thare, That it was so nere the nyght, That no ferrer ride he might. A loge of bowes sone he made, And flynt and fire-yren bath he hade, And fire ful sone thare he slogh Of dry mos and many a bogh. The lion has the da undone; Sire Ywayne made a spit ful sone, And rosted sum to thaire sopere. The lyon lay als ye sal here: Unto na mete he him drogh Until his maister had eten ynogh. Him failed thare bath salt and brede, And so him did whyte wine and rede; Bot of swilk thing als thai had, He and his lyon made tham glad. The lyon hungerd for the nanes, Ful fast he ete raw fless and banes. Sir Ywayn in that ilk telde Laid his hevid opon his shelde; Al nyght the lyon about gede To kepe his mayster and his stede. Thus the lyon and the knyght Lended thare a fouretenyght. On a day so it byfell, Syr Ywayne come unto the well. He saw the chapel and the thorne And said allas that he was born; And when he loked on the stane, He fel in swowing sone onane. Als he fel his swerde outshoke; The pomel into the erth toke, The poynt toke until his throte - Wel nere he made a sari note! Thorgh his armurs sone it smate, A litel intil hys hals it bate; And wen the lyon saw his blude, He brayded als he had bene wode. Than kest he up so lathly rerde, Ful mani fok myght he have ferde. He wend wele, so God me rede, That his mayster had bene ded. It was ful grete peté to here What sorow he made on his manere. He stirt ful hertly, I yow hete, And toke the swerde bytwix his fete; Up he set it by a stane, And thare he wald himself have slane; And so he had sone, for sertayne, Bot right in that rase Syr Ywayne; And alsone als he saw hym stand, For fayn he liked fote and hand. Sir Ywayn said oft sithes, "Allas, Of alkins men hard es my grace. Mi leman set me sertayn day, And I it brak, so wayloway. Allas, for dole how may I dwell To se this chapel and this well, Hir faire thorn, hir riche stane? My gude dayes er now al gane, My joy es done now al bidene, I am noght worthi to be sene. I saw this wild beste was ful bayn For my luf himself have slayne. Than sold I, sertes, by more right Sla my self for swilk a wyght That I have for my foly lorn. Allas the while that I was born!" Als Sir Ywayn made his mane In the chapel ay was ane And herd his murnyng haly all Thorgh a crevice of the wall, And sone it said with simepel chere, "What ertou, that murnes here?" "A man," he sayd, "sum tyme I was. What ertow? Tel me or I pas." "I am," it sayd, "the sariest wight, That ever lifed by day or nyght." "Nay," he said, "by Saynt Martyne, Thare es na sorow mete to myne, Ne no wight so wil of wane. I was a man, now am I nane; Whilom I was a nobil knyght And a man of mekyl myght; I had knyghtes of my menye And of reches grete plenté; I had a ful fayre seignory, And al I lost for my foly. Mi maste sorow als sal thou here: I lost a lady that was me dere." The tother sayd, "Allas, allas, Myne es a wele sarier case: To-morn I mun bere my j**yse, Als my famen wil devise." "Allas," he said, "what es the sk**?" "That sal thou here, sir, if thou will. I was a mayden mekil of pride With a lady here nere biside; Men me bikalles of tresown And has me put here in presown. I have no man to defend me, Tharfore to-morn brent mun I be." He sayd, "What if thou get a knyght, That for the with thi fase wil fight?" "Sir," sho sayd, "als mot I ga, In this land er bot knyghtes twa, That me wald help to cover of care: The tane es went, I wate noght whare; The tother es dweland with the king And wate noght of my myslykyng. The tane of tham hat Syr Gawayn. And the tother hat Syr Ywayn. For hym sal I be done to dede To-morn right in this same stede; He es the Kinges son Uriene." "Parfay," he sayd, "I have hym sene; I am he, and for my gilt Sal thou never more be spilt. Thou ert Lunet, if I can rede, That helpyd me yn mekyl drede; I had bene ded had thou noght bene. Tharfore tel me us bytwene, How bical thai the of treson Thus forto sla and for what reson?" "Sir, thai say that my lady Lufed me moste specially, And wroght al efter my rede; Tharefore thai hate me to the ded. The steward says that done have I Grete tresone unto my lady. His twa brether sayd it als, And I wist that thai said fals; And sone I answerd als a sot - For fole bolt es sone shot - I said that I sold find a knyght, That sold me mayntene in my right And feght with tham al thre; Thus the batayl wajed we. Than thai granted me als tyte Fourty dayes unto respite; And at the kynges court I was; I fand na cumfort ne na solase Nowther of knyght, knave, ne swayn." Than said he, "Whare was Syr Gawayn? He has bene ever trew and lele, He fayled never no damysele." Scho said, "In court he was noght sene, For a knyght led oway the quene. The king tharfore es swith grym; Syr Gawayn folowd efter him, He coms noght hame, for sertayne, Until he bryng the quene ogayne. Now has thou herd, so God me rede, Why I sal be done to ded." He said, "Als I am trew knyght, I sal be redy forto fyght To-morn with tham al thre, Leman, for the luf of the. At my might I sal noght fayl. Bot how so bese of the batayle, If ani man my name the frayne, On al manere luke thou yt layne; Unto na man my name thou say." "Syr," sho sayd, "for soth, nay. I prai to grete God alweldand, That thai have noght the hegher hand; Sen that ye wil my murnyng mend, I tak the grace that God wil send." Syr Ywayn sayd, "I sal the hyght To mend thi murnyng at my myght: Thorgh grace of God in Trenyté I sal the wreke of tham al thre." Than rade he forth into frith, And hys lyoun went hym with. Had he redyn bot a stownde, A ful fayre castell he fownde; And Syr Ywaine, the soth to say, Unto the castel toke the way. When he come at the castel gate, Foure porters he fand tharate. The drawbryg sone lete thai doun, Bot al thai fled for the lyown. Thai said, "Syr, withowten dowt, That beste byhoves the leve tharout." He sayd, "Sirs, so have I wyn, Mi lyoun and I sal noght twyn; I luf him als wele, I yow hete, Als my self at ane mete; Owther sal we samyn lende, Or els wil we hethin wende. Bot right with that the lord he met, And ful gladly he him gret, With knyghtes and swiers grete plenté And faire ladies and maydens fre; Ful mekyl joy of him thai made, Bot sorow in thaire hertes thai hade. Unto a chameber was he led And unharmed and sethin cled In clothes that war gay and dere. Bot ofttymes changed thaire chere; Sum tyme, he saw, thai weped all Als ai wald to water fall; Thai made slike murnyng and slik mane That gretter saw he never nane; Thai feynyd tham oft for hys sake Fayre semblant forto make. Ful grete wonder Sir Ywayn hade For thai swilk joy and sorow made. "Sir," he said, "if yowre wil ware, I wald wyt why ye make slike kare." "This joy," he said, "that we mak now, Sir, es al for we have yow; And, sir, also we mak this sorow For dedys that sal be done to-morow. A geant wons here nere bysyde, That es a devil of mekil pryde; His name hat Harpyns of Mowntain. For him we lyf in mekil payn; My landes haves he robbed and reft, Noght bot this kastel es me left. And, by God that in hevyn wons, Syr, I had s** knyghtis to sons; I saw my self the twa slogh he, To-morn the foure als slane mun be - He has al in hys presowne. And, sir, for nane other enchesowne, Bot for I warned hym to wyve My doghter, fayrest fode olyve. Tharfore es he wonder wrath, And depely has he sworn hys ath, With maystry that he sal hir wyn, And that the laddes of his kychyn And also that his werst fote-knave His wil of that woman sal have, Bot I to-morn might find a knight, That durst with hym selven fyght; And I have none to him at ga. What wonder es if me be wa?" Syr Ywayn lystend hym ful wele, And when he had talde ilka dele, "Syr," he sayd, "me think mervayl That ye soght never no kounsayl At the kynges hous here bysyde; For, sertes, in al this werld so wyde Es no man of so mekil myght, Geant, champioun, ne knight, That he ne has knyghtes of his menye That ful glad and blyth wald be Forto mete with swilk a man That thai myght kyth thaire myghtes on." He said, "Syr, so God me mend, Unto the kynges kourt I send To seke my mayster Syr Gawayn; For he wald socore me ful fain. He wald noght leve for luf ne drede, Had he wist now of my nede; For his sister es my wyfe, And he lufes hyr als his lyfe. Bot a knyght this other day, Thai talde, has led the quene oway. Forto seke hyr went Sir Gawayn, And yit ne come he noght ogayn." Than Syr Ywayne sighed sare And said unto the knyght right thare; "Syr," he sayd, "for Gawayn sake This batayl wil I undertake Forto fyght with the geant; And that opon swilk a covenant, Yif he cum at swilk a time, So that we may fight by prime. No langer may I tent tharto, For other thing I have to do; I have a dede that most be done To-morn nedes byfor the none." The knyght sare sighand sayd him till, "Sir, God yelde the thi gode wyll." And al that ware thare in the hall, On knese byfor hym gan thai fall. Forth thare come a byrd ful bryght, The fairest man might se in sight; Hir moder come with hir infere, And both thai morned and made yll chere. The knight said, "Lo, verraiment, God has us gude socure sent, This knight that of his grace wil grant Forto fyght with the geant." On knese thai fel doun to his fete And thanked him with wordes swete. "A, God forbede," said Sir Ywain, "That the sister of Sir Gawayn Or any other of his blode born Sold on this wise knel me byforn." He toke tham up tyte both infere And prayd tham to amend thaire chere. "And praies fast to God alswa, That I may venge yow on yowre fa, And that he cum swilk tyme of day, That I by tyme may wend my way Forto do another dede; For, sertes, theder most I nede. Sertes, I wald noght tham byswike Forto win this kinges rike." His thoght was on that damysel, That he left in the chapel. Thai said, "He es of grete renowne, For with hym dwels the lyoun." Ful wele confort war thai all Bath in boure and als in hall. Ful glad war thai of thaire gest, And when tyme was at go to rest, The lady broght him to his bed; And for the lyoun sho was adred. Na man durst negh his chamber nere, Fro thai war broght thareyn infere. Sone at morn, when it was day, The lady and the fayre may Til Ywayn chamber went thai sone, And the dore thai have undone. Sir Ywayn to the kyrk gede Or he did any other dede; He herd the servise of the day And sethin to the knyght gan say, "Sir," he said, "now most I wend, Lenger here dar I noght lende; Til other place byhoves me fare." Than had the knyght ful mekel care; He said, "Syr, dwells a litel thraw For luf of Gawayn that ye knaw; Socore us now or ye wende. I sal yow gif withowten ende Half my land with toun and toure, And ye wil help us in this stoure." Sir Ywayn said, "Nai, God forbede That I sold tak any mede." Than was grete dole, so God me glade, To se the sorow that thai made. Of tham Sir Ywayn had grete peté; Him thoght his hert myght breke in thre, For in grete drede ay gan he dwell For the mayden in the chapell. For, sertes, if sho war done to ded, Of him war than none other rede Bot oither he sold hymselven sla Or wode ogain to the wod ga. Ryght with that thare come a grome And said tham that geant come: "Yowre sons bringes he him byforn, Wel nere naked als thai war born." With wreched ragges war thai kled And fast bunden; thus er thai led. The geant was bath large and lang And bare a levore of yren ful strang; Tharwith he bet tham bitterly. Grete rewth it was to here tham cry; Thai had no thing tham forto hyde. A dwergh gode on the tother syde, He bare a scowrge with cordes ten; Tharewith he bet tha gentil men Ever on ane als he war wode. Efter ilka band brast out the blode; And when thai at the walles were, He cried loud that men myght here, "If thou wil have thi sons in hele, Deliver me that damysele. I sal hir gif to warisowne Ane of the foulest quisteroun, That ever yit ete any brede. He sal have hir maydenhede. Thar sal none other lig hir by Bot naked herlotes and lowsy." When the lord thir wordes herd, Als he war wode for wa he ferd. Sir Ywayn than that was curtays, Unto the knyght ful sone he sais: "This geant es ful fers and fell And of his wordes ful kruell; I sal deliver hir of his aw Or els be ded within a thraw. For, sertes, it war a misaventure That so gentil a creature Sold ever so foul hap byfall To be defouled with a thrall." Sone was he armed, Sir Ywayn; Tharfore the ladies war ful fayn. Thai helpid to lace him in his wede, And sone he lepe up on his stede. Thai prai to God that grace him grant Forto sla that foul geant. The drawbrigges war laten doun, And forth he rides with his lioun. Ful mani sari murnand man Left he in the kastel than, That on thaire knese to God of might Praied ful hertly for the knyght. Syr Ywayn rade into the playne, And the geant come hym ogayne. His levore was ful grete and lang And himself ful mekyl and strang; He said, "What devil made the so balde Forto cum heder out of thi halde? Whosoever the heder send, Lufed the litel, so God me mend. Of the he wald be wroken fayn." "Do forth thi best," said Sir Ywayn. Al the armure he was yn, Was noght bot of a bul-skyn. Sir Ywayn was to him ful prest, He strake to him in middes the brest. The spere was both stif and gode - Whare it toke bit, outbrast the blode. So fast Sir Ywayn on yt soght, The bul-scyn availed noght. The geant stombild with the dynt, And unto Sir Ywayn he mynt, And on the shelde he hit ful fast, It was mervayl that it myght last. The levore bended tharwithall, With grete force he lete it fall, The geant was so strong and wight, That never for no dint of knyght Ne for batayl that he sold make, Wald he none other wapyn take. Sir Ywain left his spere of hand And strake obout him with his brand, And the geant mekil of mayn Strake ful fast to him ogayn, Til at the last within a throw He rest him on his sadelbow; And that parcayved his lioun, That his hevid so hanged doun, He hopid that hys lord was hyrt, And to the geant sone he styrt. The scyn and fless bath rafe he down Fro his hals to hys cropoun; His ribbes myght men se onane, For al was bare unto bane. At the lyown oft he mynt, Bot ever he lepis fro his dynt, So that no strake on him lyght. By than was Ywain cumen to myght, Than wil he wreke him if he may. The geant gaf he ful gude pay; He smate oway al his left cheke, His sholder als of gan he kleke, That both his levore and his hand Fel doun law opon the land. Sethin with a stoke to him he stert And smate the geant unto the hert: Than was nane other tale to tell, Bot fast unto the erth he fell, Als it had bene a hevy tre. Than myght men in the kastel se Ful mekil mirth on ilka side. The gates kest thai opyn wyde; The lord unto Syr Ywaine ran, Him foloud many a joyful man; Also the lady ran ful fast, And hir doghter was noght the last. I may noght tel the joy thai had; And the foure brether war ful glad, For thai war out of bales broght. The lord wist it helpid noght At pray Sir Ywayn for to dwell, For tales that he byfore gan tell. Bot hertly with his myght and mayn He praied him forto cum ogayn And dwel with him a litel stage, When he had done hys va**age. He said, "Sir, that may I noght do; Bileves wele, for me bus go." Tham was ful wo - he wald noght dwell - Bot fain thai war that it so fell. The neghest way than gan he wele, Until he come to the chapele. Thare he fand a mekil fire And the mayden with lely lire In hyr smok was bunden fast Into the fire forto be kast. Unto himself he sayd in hy And prayed to God almyghty, That he sold for his mekil myght Save fro shame that swete wight. "Yf thai be many and mekil of pryse, I sal let for no kouwardise; For with me es bath God and right, And thai sal help me forto fight. And my lyon sal help me - Than er we foure ogayns tham thre." Sir Ywayn rides and cries then, "Habides, I bid yow, fals men! It semes wele that ye er wode, That wil spill this sakles blode. Ye sal noght so, yf that I may." His lyown made hym redy way. Naked he saw the mayden stand Bihind hir bunden aither hand: Than sighed Ywain wonder-oft, Unnethes might he syt oloft. Thare was no sembland tham bitwene, That ever owther had other sene. Al obout hyr myght men se Ful mykel sorow and grete peté Of other ladies that thare were, Wepeand with ful sory chere. "Lord," thai sayd, "what es oure gylt? Oure joy, oure confort sal be spilt. Who sal now oure erandes say? Allas, who sal now for us pray?" Whils thai thus karped, was Lunet On knese byfore the prest set, Of hir syns hir forto schrive. And unto hir he went bylive, Hir hand he toke, and up sho rase; "Leman," he sayd, "who*e er thi fase?" "Sir, lo tham yonder in yone stede Bideand until I be ded; Thai have demed me with wrang. Wel nere had ye dwelt over lang! I pray to God He do yow mede That ye wald help me in this nede." Thir wordes herd than the steward; He hies him unto hir ful hard. He said, "Thou lies, fals woman! For thi treson ertow tane. Sho has bitraied hir lady, And, sir, so wil sho the in hy. And tharfore, syr, by Goddes dome, I rede thou wend right als thou com; Thou takes a ful febil rede, If thou for hir will suffer ded." Unto the steward than said he, "Who so es ferd, I rede he fle; And, sertes, I have bene this day, Whare I had ful large pay; And yit," he sayd, "I sal noght fail." To tham he waged the batayl. "Do oway thi lioun," said the steward, "For that es noght oure forward. Allane sal thou fight with us thre." And unto him thus answerd he, "Of my lioun no help I crave; I ne have none other fote-knave; If he wil do yow any dere, I rede wele that ye yow were." The steward said, "On alkins wise Thi lyoun, sir, thou most chastise, That he do here no harm this day, Or els wend forth on thi way; For hir warand mai thou noght be, Bot thou allane fight with us thre. Al thir men wote, and so wote I, That sho bitrayed hir lady. Als traytures sal sho have hyre, Sho be brent here in this fire." Sir Ywayn sad, "Nai, God forbede!" (He wist wele how the soth gede.) "I trow to wreke hir with the best.' He bad his lyoun go to rest; And he laid him sone onane Doun byfore tham everilkane; Bitwene his legges he layd his tail And so biheld to the batayl. Al thre thai ride to Sir Ywayn, And smertly rides he tham ogayn; In that time nothing tint he, For his an strake was worth thaires thre. He strake the steward on the shelde, That he fel doun flat in the felde; Bot up he rase yit at the last And to Sir Ywayn strake ful fast. Tharat the lyoun greved sare; No lenger wald he than lig thare. To help his mayster he went onane; And the ladies everilkane, That war thare forto se that sight, Praied ful fast ay for the knight. The lyoun hasted him ful hard, And sone he come to the steward. A ful fel mynt to him he made: He bigan at the shulder-blade, And with his pawm al rafe he downe Bath hauberk and his actoune And al the fless doun til his kne, So that men myght his guttes se; To ground he fell so al torent Was thare no man that him ment. The lioun gan hym sla. Than war thai bot twa and twa, And, sertanly, thare Sir Ywayn Als with wordes did his main Forto chastis hys lyowne; Bot he ne wald na more lig doun. The liown thoght, how so he sayd, That with his help he was wele payd. Thai smate the lyoun on ilka syde And gaf him many woundes wide. When that he saw hys lyoun blede, He ferd for wa als he wald wede, And fast he strake than in that stoure, Might thare none his dintes doure. So grevosly than he bygan That doun he bare bath hors and man. Thai yald tham sone to Sir Ywayn, And tharof war the folk ful fayne; And sone quit to tham thaire hire, For both he kest tham in the fire And said, "Wha juges men with wrang, The same jugement sal thai fang." Thus he helpid the maiden ying, And sethin he made the saghtelyng Bitwene hyr and the riche lady. Than al the folk ful hastily Proferd tham to his servise To wirship him ever on al wise. Nane of tham al wist bot Lunet That thai with thaire lord war met. The lady prayed him als the hend That he hame with tham wald wende Forto sojorn thare a stownd, Til he wer warist of his wound. By his sare set he noght a stra, Bot for his lioun was him wa. "Madame," he said, "sertes, nay, I mai noght dwel, the soth to say." Sho said, "Sir, sen thou wyl wend, Sai us thi name, so God the mend." "Madame," he said, "bi Saint Symoun, I hat the Knight with the Lyoun." Sho said, "We saw yow never or now, Ne never herd we speke of yow." "Tharby," he sayd, "ye understand, I am noght knawen wide in land." Sho said, "I prai the forto dwell, If that thou may, here us omell." If sho had wist wele wha it was, She wald wele lever have laten him pas; And tharfore wald he noght be knawen Both for hir ese and for his awyn. He said, "No lenger dwel I ne may; Beleves wele and haves goday. I prai to Crist, hevyn kyng, Lady, len yow gude lifing, And len grace, that al yowre anoy May turn yow unto mykel joy." Sho said, "God grant that it so be." Unto himself than thus said he, "Thou ert the lok and kay also Of al my wele and al my wo." Now wendes he forth and morning mase, And nane of tham wist what he was, Bot Lunet that he bad sold layn, And so sho did with al hir mayne. Sho cunvayd him forth on his way; He said, "Gude leman, I the pray, That thou tel to no moder son, Who has bene thi champion; And als I pray the, swete wight, Late and arly thou do thi might With speche unto my lady fre Forto make hir frende with me. Sen ye er now togeder glade, Help thou that we war frendes made." "Sertes, sir," sho sayd, "ful fayn Thareobout wil I be bayn; And that ye have done me this day, God do yow mede, als he wele may." Of Lunet thus his leve he tase, Bot in hert grete sorow he hase; His lioun feled so mek** wa, That he ne myght no ferrer ga. Sir Ywayn puld gres in the felde And made a kouche opon his shelde; Thareon his lyoun laid he thare, And forth he rides and sighes sare; On his shelde so he him led. Than was he ful evyl sted. Forth he rides by frith and fell, Til he come to a fayre castell. Thare he cald and swith sone The porter has the gates undone, And to him made he ful gude chere. He said, "Sir, ye er welcum here." Syr Ywain said, "God do the mede, For tharof have I mekil nede." Yn he rade right at the gate; Faire folk kepid hym tharate. Thai toke his shelde and his lyoun, And ful softly thai laid it doun; Sum to stabil led his stede, And sum also unlaced his wede. Thai talde the lord than of that knyght; And sone he and his lady bryght And thaire sons and doghters all Come ful faire him forto kall; Thai war ful fayn he thore was sted. To chaumber sone thai have him led; His bed was ordand richely, And his lioun thai laid him by. Him was no mister forto crave, Redy he had what he wald have. Twa maydens with him thai laft That wele war lered of lechecraft; The lordes doghters both thai wore That war left to kepe hym thore. Thai heled hym everilka wound, And hys lyoun sone made thai sownd. I can noght tel how lang he lay; When he was helyd he went his way. Bot whils he sojorned in that place, In that land byfel this case. A litil thethin in a stede A grete lord of the land was ded. Lifand he had none other ayre Bot two doghters that war ful fayre. Als sone als he was laid in molde, The elder sister sayd sho wolde Wend to court sone als sho myght Forto get hir som doghty knyght Forto win hir al the land And hald it haley in hir hand. The yonger sister saw sho ne myght Have that fell until hir right, Bot if that it war by batail; To court sho wil at ask cownsayl. The elder sister sone was gare, Unto the court fast gan sho fare. To Sir Gawayn sho made hir mane, And he has granted hyr onane, "Bot yt bus be so prevely, That nane wit bot thou and I. If thou of me makes any yelp, Lorn has thou al my help." Than efter on the tother day Unto kourt come the tother may, And to Sir Gawayn sone sho went And talde unto him hir entent; Of his help sho him bysoght. "Sertes," he sayd, "that may I noght." Than sho wepe and wrang hir handes; And right with that come new tithandes, How a knyght with a lyoun Had slane a geant ful feloun. The same knight thare talde this tale That Syr Ywayn broght fra bale That had wedded Gawayn sister dere. Sho and hir sons war thare infere; Thai broght the dwergh, that be ye balde, And to Sir Gawayn have thai talde How the knyght with the lyowne Delivred tham out of presowne, And how he for Syr Gawayn sake Gan that batayl undertake, And als how nobilly that he wroght. Sir Gawayn said, "I knaw him noght." The yonger mayden than alsone Of the king askes this bone To have respite of fourti dais, Als it fel to landes lays. Sho wist thare was no man of main That wald fyght with Sir Gawayn; Sho thoght to seke by frith and fell The knyght that sho herd tham of tell. Respite was granted of this thing; The mayden toke leve at the king And sethen at al the baronage, And forth sho went on hir vayage. Day ne nyght wald sho noght spare; Thurgh al the land fast gan sho fare, Thurgh castel and thurgh ilka toun To seke the knight with the lyown: He helpes al in word and dede, That unto him has any nede. Sho soght hym thurgh al that land, Bot of hym herd sho na tythand. Na man kouth tel hir whare he was. Ful grete sorow in hert sho has. So mikel murning gan sho make That a grete sekenes gan sho take. Bot in hir way right wele sho sped. At that kastell was sho sted Whare Sir Ywayn are had bene Helid of his sekenes clene. Thare sho was ful wele knawen And als welcum als til hyr awyn; With alkyn gamyn thai gan hir glade, And mikel joy of hir thai made. Unto the lord sho tald hyr case, And helping hastily sho hase. Stil in lecheing thare sho lay; A maiden for hir toke the way For to seke yf that sho myght In any land here of that knyght; And that same kastel come sho by, Whare Ywayn wedded the lavedy; And fast sho spird in ylk sesown Efter the knight with the lioun. Thai tald hir how he went tham fra, And also how thay saw him sla Thre nobil knyghtes for the nanes That f*ght with him al at anes. Sho said, "Par charité, I yow pray, If that ye wate, wil ye me say, Whederward that he es went?" Thai said, for soth, thai toke na tent; "Ne here es nane that the can tell, Bot if it be a damysell, For whas sake he heder come, And for hir the batayl he name. We trow wele that sho can the wis; Yonder in yone kyrk sho ys; Tharfore we rede to hyr thou ga." And hastily than did sho swa. Aither other ful gudeli gret, And sone she frayned at Lunet If sho kouth ani sertan sayne. And hendly answerd sho ogayne, "I sal sadel my palfray And wend with the forth on thi way And wis the als wele als I can." Ful oft sithes thanked sho hir than. Lunet was ful smertly gare, And with the mayden forth gan sho fare. Als thai went, al sho hyr talde, How sho was taken and done in halde, How wikkedly that sho was wreghed, And how that trayturs on hir leghed, And how that sho sold have bene brent, Had noght God hir socore sent Of that knight with the lyoun: "He lesed me out of presoun." Sho broght hir sone into a playn, Whare sho parted fra Sir Ywayn; Sho said, "Na mare can I tel the, Bot here parted he fra me. How that he went wate I no mare; Bot wounded was he wonder-sare. God that for us sufferd wounde. Len us to se him hale and sownde. No lenger with the may I dwell; Bot cumly Crist that heried hell, Len the grace that thou may spede Of thine erand als thou has nede." Lunet hastily hies hir home, And the mayden sone to the kastel come Whare he was helid byforehand. The lord sone at the gate sho fand With knyghtes and ladies grete cumpani; Sho haylsed tham al ful hendely, And ful fayre praied sho to tham then If thai couth thai sold hyr ken Whare sho myght fynd in toure or toun A kumly knyght with a lyoun. Than said the lord, "By swete Jhesus, Right now parted he fra us; Lo here the steppes of his stede, Evyn unto him thai wil the lede." Than toke sho leve and went hir way, With sporrs sho sparid noght hir palfray; Fast sho hyed with al hyr myght, Until sho of him had a syght And of hys lyoun that by him ran. Wonder joyful was sho than, And with hir force sho hasted so fast That sho overtoke him at the last. Sho hailsed him with hert ful fayn, And he hir hailsed fayre ogayn. Sho said, "Sir, wide have I yow soght, And for my self ne es it noght, Bot for a damysel of pryse That halden es both war and wise. Men dose to hir ful grete outrage, Thai wald hir reve hyr heritage; And in this land now lifes none That sho traystes hyr opone Bot anly opon God and the, For thou ert of so grete bounté; Thorgh help of the sho hopes wele To win hyr right everilka dele. Scho sais no knyght that lifes now Mai help hir half so wele als thou; Gret word sal gang of thi va**age, If that thou win hir heritage. For thoght sho toke slike sekenes sare, So that sho might travail no mare, I have yow soght on sydes sere. Tharfore yowre answer wald I here, Whether ye wil with me wend, Or elswhare yow likes to lend." He said, "That knyght that idil lies Oft sithes winnes ful litel pries. Forthi mi rede sal sone be tane: Gladly with the wil I gane, Wheder so thou wil me lede, And hertly help the in thi nede. Sen thou haves me so wide soght, Sertes, fail the sal I noght."

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