Stanzas LXI–LXXII

Muche besenes hade we,
How that best inyȝte be,
Thay asshed cowuncelle atte me,
To do hur to dede ;
And I vnsquarut, and sayd, " Nay,
Loke furst qwatt hur seluun wille say,
Quether ho may serue vs alle to pay,
That is a bettur rede.
Ther ho hette vs in ther halle,
To do alle that a woman schild falle,
Wele for to serue vs alle,
That stode in that stede ;
Ho held vs wele that ho heȝte,
And diȝte vs on the day liȝte,
And hur body iche nyȝte,
In tille oure bed beed.

And hi this tale I vndurstode,
Wemen that is of mylde mode,
And syne giffes hom to gode,
Meculle may ho mende ;
And tho that giffus hom to the ille,
And sithin thayre folis wille fullfille,
I telle ȝow wele, be propur skille,
No luffe wille inne hom lenge.
With gode wille grathely hom gete,
Meke and mylde atte her mete,
Thryuandly with-outun threte,
And joy atte iche ende ;
Forthi jelius schalle I neuer be,
For no siȝte that I see,
Ne no biurdes briȝte of ble,
Iche ertheli thinke hase ende !"

The king sayd, " Thou says wele,
" Sir," he sayd, " as haue I sele,
I wille thou wote hit iche dele,
Therefore come Y ;
Thi lady gret me to squere squyftele,
Or I myȝte gete entre,
That ho schuld harmeles be,
And alle hur cumpany.
Then gerut I my knyȝte,
To go in bed with the biurde bryȝte,
On the fur syde of the liȝte,
And lay hur dowun by ;
I sette me doune hom besyde,
Here the for to a-bide,
He neȝhit neuyr no naked syde
Of thi lady.

For-thi of jelusnes be them bold,
Thine a- vow may thou hold,
Butte of tho othir thinges that thou me told,
I wold wete more ;
Quy thou dredus notte thi dede,
Ne non that bitus on thi brede,
As euyr brok I my hede,
Thi ȝatis ar euyr ȝare !"
Quod Bawdewyn, " I schalle ȝow telle ;
Atte the same castelle,
Quere this antur befelle,
Be-segitte we ware ;
On a day we vsshet oute,
And toke presonerus stoute,
The tone of owre foloys had doute,
And durst notte furthe fare.

The caytef crope in-to a tunne,
That was sette ther owte in the sunne,
And there come fliand a gunne,
And lemet as the leuyn ;
Lyȝte opon hitte atte the last,
That was fastnut so fast,
Alle in sundur hit brast,
In six or in seuyn.
And there hit sluȝe him als,
And his hert was so fals,
Sone the hed fro the hals,
Hit lyputt fulle euyn !
And we come fro the feȝting,
Sowunde with-outun hurting,
And then we louyd the king
That heghehest was in heuyn ;

Then owre feloys con say,
Schalle nomon dee or his day,
Butte he cast him selfe a-way,
Throȝhe wontyng of witte ;
And there myne a-vow made I,
So dyd alle that cumpany,
For dede neuyr to be drery,
Welcum is hit.
Hit is a kyndely thing."
fc Thou says sothe," quod the king,
" Butte of thi thryd a-vowyng,
Telle me quyche is hit ?
Quy thi mete thou wille notte warne,
To no leuand barne ?
Ther is no man that may hit tharne"
" Lord, ȝe schalle wele wete.

For the sege a-boute vs lay stille,
We hade notte alle atte oure wille,
Mete and drinke vs to fille,
Vs wontutte the fode ;
So come a messyngere,
Bade, " ȝild vppe alle that is here,"
And speke with a sturun schere,
I nyll, by the rode !
I gerutte him bide to none,
Callud the stuard sone,
Told him alle as he schuld done,
As counselle is gud ;
Gerutte trumpe on the walle,
And couerd burdes in the halle,
And I my-self emunge hom alle,
As a king stode.

I gerut hom wasshe, to mete wente,
Aftur the stuard then I sente,
I bede that he schuld take entente,
That alle schuld welle fare ;
Bede bringe bred plente,
And wine in bollus of tre,
That no wontyng schuld be,
To lasse ne to mare.
We hade no mete, butte for on day
Hit come in a nobulle aray,
The messyngere lokit ay,
And se hom sle care ;
He toke his leue atte me[te] ;
We gerutte him drinke atte the ȝate,
And gafe him giftus grete,
And furthe con he fare.

But quen the messyngere was gone,
These officers ichone,
To me made thay grete mone,
And drerely con say :
Sayd, " In this howse is no bred,
No quyte wine nyf red,
ȝe be-houes ȝild vppe this stid,
And for oure lyuys pray."
ȝette God helpus ay his man,
The messyngere come a-gayn than,
With-oute to the cheuytan,
And sone conne he say ;
"Thoȝhe ȝe sege this seuyn ȝere,
Castelle gete ȝe none here,
For thay make als mirry chere,
Als hit were ȝole day !"

Then the messyngere con say,
" I rede ȝow, hie ȝow hethinne a-way,
For in ȝour oste is no play,
Butte hongur and thurst ;"
Thenne the king con his knyȝtis calle,
Sethinne to cowunselle wente thay alle,
" Sythinne no bettur may be-falle,
This hald I the best."
Euyn atte the raydnyȝte,
Hor lordis sembelet to a syȝte,
That were hardy and wiȝte,
Thay remuyt of hor rest ;
Mete laynes mony lakke,
And there mete hor sege brake,
And gerut hom to giffe vs the bake,
To preke thay were fulle preste !

And then we lokit were thay lay,
And see oure enmeys a-way,
And then oure felawis con say,
The lasse and the mare ;
He that gode may gete,
And wernys men of his mete,
Gud Gode, that is grete,
Gif him sory care !
For the mete of the messyngere,
Hitte mendutte alle oure chere."
Then sayd the king, that thay myȝte here,
And sqwythely con squere,
" In the conne we fynde no fabulle,
Thine a-vowes arne profetabulle ;"
And thus recordus the Rowndetabulle,
The lasse and the more.

Thenne the kinge and his knyȝtis alle,
Thay madun myrthe in that halle,
And then the lady conne thay calle,
The fayrist to fold ;
Sayde, " Bawdewyn, and thou be wise
Take thou this lady of price,
For muche loue in hur lyce
To thine hert hold :
Ho is a biurde fulle bryȝte,
And therto semely to thy siȝte,
And thou hase holdinne alle that thou hiȝte
As a kniȝte schulde !"
Now Jhesu Lord, Heuyn kynge,
He graunt vs alle his blessynge
And gife vs alle gode endinge,
That made vs on the mulde !