Lines 2101–2505

Amoraunt stood the folk among,
Saw how his lord with woe and wrong
So ruefully was dight,
A hardy lad and strong was he,
He gripped the duke right manfully,
With arms he held him tight,
And saith: "Sire, of discourteous mind
Art thou, and in thy deeds unkind,
To slay this gentle knight,
For he the day may rue full sore
That for thy sake such wounds he bore,
And saved thy life in fight!

"For he Sir Amiloun is hight,
Who whilom was a noble knight
Alike to ride or go,
Now must he thole sore pain and loss,
May God Who died upon the Cross
Bring him from out his woe!
For thy sake he of bliss is bare, —
Full ill didst thou repay him there,
Breaking his bones in two!
He helped thee at thy sorest need,
Full ill dost thou repay his meed,
Alas, why dost thou so?"

Whenas Sir Amis heard, forthright,
He turned him swiftly to the knight
With never more delay,
Clasped him within his arms that tide,
And often-times, "Alas!" he cried,
His song was "Wellaway!"
He looked upon his shoulder bare,
The grisley wound he saw it there
As Amoraunt did say,
Therewith fell swooning to the ground,
And oft he cried "Alas!" that stound,
That e'er he saw this day!

"Alas!" he cried, "my joy is gone,
Unkinder blood was never none,
I wot not what to do!
For he that saved my life of yore,
With scorn did I requite him sore,
And wrought him mickle woe!
Brother," he cried, "of charitie,
This wicked deed forgive it me,
That I did smite thee so!"
Then swift he gave forgiveness fair,
And many times he kissed him there
While fast the tears they flow.

Then was Sir Amis glad and fain,
For very joy he wept again
And seized his brother there,
He took him in his arms withal
And carried him into the hall,
None other might him bear;
Within the hall his wife, she stood,
She deemed her lord were surely wood,
And ran, that lady fair,
Crying: "Now, Sire, what is thy thought?
Why hast this leper hither brought?
For Christ's sake now declare!"

"Oh, wife!" he cried, "by sweet Saint John,
Such woe ne'er lay my heart upon
As thou must know to-day,
In all the world so good a knight
Was none, yet sore I did him smite,
Well nigh I did him slay!
It is my brother Amiloun,
Who now by grief is cast adown,
Who erst was knight so gay!"
Swooning, that lady fell to ground,
Weeping, she wrung her hands that stound,
And oft "Alas!" did say.

Tho' he was leper foul, I wis,
That lady straightway did him kiss,
For nothing would she spare,
And oft-times she "Alas!" did cry,
That such hard fate on him should lie,
To live in woe and care,
Into her bower she did him lead,
And cast aside his beggar's weed,
And bathed his body bare;
Then to a bed the knight they brought
Covered with clothes so richly wrought,
Right glad of him they were.

And thus, as now the Geste doth say,
Twelvemonths he in her chamber lay
For true they were and kind,
And ne'er denied him with a "Nay,"
Whate'er he asked, by night or day,
It tarried not behind,
He every meat and drink must share
That men at board before them bare,
They kept him aye in mind;
And after this a twelvemonth's space
God granted them a wondrous Grace,
As in the Geste we find.

For it befell upon a night
The duke, Sir Amis, that good knight,
In slumber as he lay,
An angel bright he saw that stead,
From Heaven, stand before his bed
Who thus to him did say:
An he would rise on Christmas Morn,
E'en at the hour that Christ was born
And his two children slay,
Anoint his brother with their blood,
By grace of God, Who aye is good,
His ill were turned away.

And thus he thought that, for nights three,
That angel bright he sure did see,
Who warned him evermore,
And said, an he did as he hight,
His brother were as fair a knight,
As e'er he was before.
Sir Amis, he was blithe that day,
Yet for his children grieved alway,
Fairer no woman bore,
Full loth was he his bairns to kill,
More loth to fail his brother still
Who was so true of yore.

To Amiloun, too, did it seem,
An angel warned him in a dream,
And did to him declare,
An Amis had his children slain
The virtue of their heart's blood twain
Might cleanse him from his care.
With morn Sir Amis went his way,
And sought his brother as he lay
And asked how he did fare?
And Amiloun quoth low and still:
"Brother, I here abide God's Will,
My hope, it lieth there!"

Then, as they sat together there
Spake of adventures as it were,
Those knights so fair and free,
Sir Amiloun quoth at that tide:
"Brother, I naught from thee would hide
But tell thee privilie,
As in a dream I saw last night
An Angel come from Heaven bright.
Forsooth, he said to me,
The blood of these, thy children twain,
Might make me whole and clean again,
From sorrow set me free."

Then thought the duke that, sooth to say,
These children young, the twain to slay
It were a deadly sin, —
And then, by Heaven's King, he thought,
An Amiloun from grief were brought,
He 'ld risk the wrong therein;
So it befell, on Christmas Night,
What time that Jesu, Lord of Might,
Was born, to save men's kin,
That all the men in court who were,
They dight them, forth to church to fare
With joy, for this world's win.

When all were ready forth to fare
The duke bade all men who were there
To church to wend straightway,
And, as they all his friends should be,
Of great or small, none, verily,
Should there in chamber stay;
He quoth, that he himself that night
Would guard his brother, the true knight,
Who was so good alway.
To say him "Nay," I trow, was none,
To church the household went anon,
The duke at home did stay.

The duke, with care he did espy
The keys of this the nursery,
Ere that they should be gone;
And privily he watched them there,
And of the place he was aware
Where they had laid them down.
When all men thus to church did go,
Sir Amis, as the Geste doth show,
He there was left alone;
He took a candle, burning bright,
And to the keys he went forthright,
Bare them away anon.

With that alone, with no delay,
He to the chamber made his way
Where these, his children, were;
Beheld them both, as in that stead
They lay together in the bed,
Sleeping together there,
And thus unto himself did say:
"By Saint John, it were ill to slay
What God hath wrought so fair!"
His knife, he drew it forth that tide,
For very grief he turned aside,
And wept for sorrow sare!

Awhile he wept there as he stood,
Anon he changed again his mood,
And saith without delay
"My brother was so true and good,
From grisley wounds he shed his blood
For love of me that day;
Then why should I my children spare
To bring my brother out of care?
"Certes!" he quoth, "nay!
To help my brother in his need,
Maid Mary grant that well I speed,
God prosper me alway!"

No longer lingering, as he stood,
He grasped the knife in dreary mood,
And took the children two,
And, since he would not spill their blood.
Over a basin fair and good,
Their throats, he slit them thro'.
And when the two he thus had slain
He laid them back in bed again,
Small marvel he were woe!
Covered them, that by none 't were seen
That any man with them had been,
From chamber forth did go.

When from the chamber he had gone,
The door, behind him shut, anon,
Fast as it had been aye,
The keys he laid beneath a stone,
Thinking that men would deem, each one,
That they had gone astray.
Straight to his brother did he go,
Quoth to that man so full of woe,
By dawn of Christmas Day:
"Here have I brought my children's blood,
I trust that it may do thee good,
So did the Angel say!"

"Brother," Sir Amiloun did say,
"Didst thou indeed thy children slay?
Alas! Why didst thou so? "
He wept, and cried: "Ah! Wellaway!
Liever had I till Judgment Day
Lived thus in pain and woe!"
Then quoth Sir Amis: "Be thou still,
Thro' Jesu, an it be His Will,
I bairns again may know,
For my sake thou of bliss art bare,
I wis, to bring thee out of care,
To death I 'ld freely go!"

He took the life-blood, red and bright,
Anointed there that gentle knight,
Who erst was fair and hale,
And then in bed he did him lay
And wrapt him warm and soft alway
Nor coverings rich did fail:
"Brother," he quoth, "now lie thou still
And fall asleep, now, as God's Will
The Angel told in tale;
And well I trust, with ne'er a lie,
That Jesu, King of Heaven High,
Shall bring thee out of bale."

Sir Amis let him lie alone
And to his chamber went anon
As ye in Geste may hear,
And for the bairns whom he had slain
To God in Heaven he did complain,
Praying, with rueful cheer,
That he be saved from shame that day
Thro' Mary Mother, who alway
Was to his heart full dear.
And Jesu Christ, in his sore need,
To that knight's prayer He gave good heed,
As ye in Geste may hear.

The morrow, soon as it was day,
Homeward she came, that lady gay,
With knights in train, I trow,
They sought the keys where they should lie.
And might no trace of them descry,
Woeful were they enow;
The duke, he bade their mourning cease,
And prayed them all to hold their peace,
And quiet keep them now,
He had the keys, his wife alone
Should thither go, beside them, none,
That did he surely vow.

Anon, his wife he prayed her hear,
And quoth to her: "My love so dear,
Prithee be glad of mood,
By Him Who for mankind was born
Our children have I slain this morn,
Who were so fair and good,
For that in dream I saw, by night,
An Angel come from Heaven's height,
Who told me, by their blood
My brother should be freed from pain,
For his sake did I slay the twain
To help him, as I should."

Then was that lady full of woe,
Seeing her lord in sorrow go
She comforted him there:
"Oh! dearest life," thus did she say,
"God, He can give us bairns alway,
Of them have thou no care,
For if it were mine own heart's blood,
An it might do thy brother good,
My life I would not spare;
Our eyes alone our bairns shall see,
To-morrow shall they buried be,
As natural death it were."

Thus did that lady, fair and bright.
Comfort her lord with all her might,
As ye may understand;
With that, the twain, they go their way,
Sought Amiloun, there, where he lay
Who erst was free of hand;
When Amiloun, he woke anon,
Behold, his foulness all was gone,
Thro' grace of God's Command!
And then was he as fair a knight
As ever he was seen by sight
Since he was born in land!

With that full blithe and glad they were?.,
Their joy they might to none declare,
They thanked God oft, that day,
And then, as here the Geste doth shew,
They swiftly to the chamber go
Wherein the children lay,
Without a wound the bairns they found,
With ne'er a scar, but whole and sound,
The twain, they lie, and play!
They wept for joy as there they stood,
Gave thanks to God in humble mood,
Their care was all away.

When Amiloun was whole and fair
And all his strength had waxen there,
And he might go and ride,
Amoraunt, as a squire so bold,
Of gladsome cheer he then did hold
To serve his lord beside;
Then quoth the knight upon a day
That homeward would he take his way,
Speak with his wife that tide,
For that she so had helped his need
He thought to well requite her deed,
Nor longer there abide.

Sir Amis, then, with swift intent,
For many a valiant knight he sent,
Who doughty were in deed,
Five hundred knights, both true and keen,
And many a baron more, I ween,
On palfrey and on steed,
And night and day they, at that same,
Rode swift, till to his land they came
There was he lord indeed;
A knight of that same country there
He had espoused that lady fair
As now in Geste we read.

And thus in Geste as now I say,
Home came her lord the self-same day
They would the bridal hold,
To castle rode without delay,
Anon began a sorry play
Among those barons bold;
A messenger to run was fain
Crying, her lord was come again
As fairest man on mold!
The lady, she waxed pale and wan,
And there was many a mournful man
Among them, young and old!

Sir Amiloun, and Sir Amis,
With many a baron bold, I wis,
And knights and squires withal,
With helmet, and with habergeoun,
And with their sword blades bright and brown,
They gat them to the hall,
And all whom they within it caught
With many a mighty stroke they sought,
Yea, were they great or small,
And glad and blithe they were that day
Whoso alive might flee away,
Such bridal did befall!

And thus, when they had vengeance ta'en,
And brown and black to flee were fain
From out that hall, anon,
Amiloun, for his lady's sake,
A great lodge there he bade them make
Builded of lime and stone,
Within it was that lady led,
On bread and water was she fed,
Till her life-days were done.
In such wise died that lady — He
Who mourns her fate, a knave must be
As ye have heard, each one!

Then Amiloun sent speedily
To earls and barons, bond and free,
All who were frank and fair,
And when they came, he seized in hand
Childe Owen, over all this land,
Who true and kind was e'er;
And when he thus had done, I wis,
With this, his brother, Sir Amis,
He back again did fare;
There, in much joy and little strife,
Together did they lead their life
Till called of God they were.

Anon those courteous barons twain
To build an Abbey were they fain
Endow it well also,
In Lombardy, till Judgment-Day
Mass for their souls to sing alway
And for their parents' too.
The same day died those knights so brave,
Were laid together in one grave,
As men to-day shall show;