Lines 909–1194

“Goddot!” quoth he, “leue sire,
Bidde ich you non oþer hire;
But yeueþ me inow to ete,
Fir and water y wile yow fete,
Þe fir blowe, an ful wele maken;
Stickes kan ich breken and kraken,
And kindlen ful wel a fyr,
And maken it to brennen shir;
Ful wel kan ich cleuen shides,
Eles to-turnen of here hides;
Ful wel kan ich dishes swilen,
And don al þat ye euere wilen.”
Quoth þe kok, “wile i no more;
Go þu yunder, and sit þore,
And y shal yeue þe ful fair bred,
And make þe broys in þe led.
Sit now doun and et ful yerne:
Daþeit hwo þe mete werne!”

Hauelok sette him dun anon,
Also stille als a ston,
Til he hauede ful wel eten;
Þo hauede hauelok fayre geten.
Hwan he hauede eten inow,
He kam to þe welle, water up-drow,
And filde þer a michel so;
Bad he non ageyn him go,
But bi-twen his hondes he bar it in,
Al him one to þe kichin.
Bad he non him water to fete,
Ne fro brigge to bere þe mete,
He bar þe turues, he bar þe star,
Þe wode fro the brigge he bar;
Al that euere shulden he nytte,
Al he drow, and al he citte;
Wolde he neuere hauen rest,
More þan he were a best.
Of alle men was he mest meke,
Lauhwinde ay, and bliþe of speke;
Euere he was glad and bliþe,
His sorwe he couþe ful wel miþe.
It ne was non so litel knaue,
For to leyken, ne forto plawe,
Þat he ne wolde with him pleye:
Þe children that yeden in þe weie
Of him he deden al her wille,
And with him leykeden here fille.
Him loueden alle, stille and bolde,
Knictes, children, yunge and holde;
Alle him loueden þat him sowen,
Boþen heyemen and lowe.
Of him ful wide þe word sprong,
Hw he was mike, hw he was strong,
Hw fayr man god him hauede maked,
But on þat he was almest naked:
For he ne hauede nouth to shride,
But a kouel ful unride,
Þat was ful, and swiþe wicke,
Was it nouth worth a fir sticke.
Þe cok bigan of him to rewe,
And bouthe him cloþes, al spannewe;
He bouthe him boþe hosen and shon,
And sone dide him dones on.
Hwan he was cloþed, osed, and shod,
Was non so fayr under god,
Þat euere yete in erþe were,
Non þat euere moder bere;
It was neuere man þat yemede
In kinneriche, þat so wel semede
King or cayser forto be,
Þan he was shrid, so semede he;
For þanne he weren alle samen
At lincolne, at þe gamen,
And þe erles men woren al þore,
Þan was hauelok bi þe shuldren more
Þan þe meste þat þer kam:
In armes him noman ne nam,
Þat he doune sone ne caste;
Hauelok stod ouer hem als a mast.
Als he was heie, al he was long,
He was boþe stark and strong;
In engelond was non hise per
Of strengþe þat euere kam him ner.
Als he was strong, so was he softe;

Þey a man him misdede ofte,
Neuere more he him misdede,
Ne hond on him with yuele leyde.
Of bodi was he mayden clene,
Neuere yete in game, ne in grene,
Þit hire ne wolde leyke ne lye,
No more þan it were a strie.
In þat time al hengelond
Þerl Godrich hauede in his hond,
And he gart komen into þe tun
Mani erl, and mani barun;
And alle men þat liues were
In engelond, þanne wer þere,
Þat þey haueden after sent,
To ben þer at þe parlement.
With hem com mani chanbioun,
Mani with ladde, blac and brown;
An fel it so, þat yunge men,
Wel abouten nine or ten,
Bigunnen þer for to layke:
Þider komen bothe stronge and wayke;
Þider komen lesse and more,
Þat in þe borw þanne weren þore;
Chaunpiouns, and starke laddes,
Bondemen with here gaddes,
Als he comen fro þe plow;
Þere was sembling i-now!
For it ne was non horse-knaue,
Þo þei sholden in honde haue,
Þat he ne kam þider, þe leyk to se:
Biforn here fet þanne lay a tre,
And putten with a mikel ston
Þe starke laddes, ful god won.

Þe ston was mikel, and ek greth,
And al so heui so a neth;
Grund stalwrthe man he sholde be,
Þat mouthe liften it to his kne;
Was þer neyþer clerc, ne prest,
Þat mithe liften it to his brest:
Þerwit putten the chaunpiouns,
Þat þider comen with þe barouns.
Hwo so mithe putten þore
Biforn a-noþer, an inch or more,
Wore ye yung, or wore he hold,
He was for a kempe told.
Al-so þei stoden, an ofte stareden,
Þe chaunpiouns, and ek the ladden,
And he maden mikel strout
Abouten þe alþerbeste but,
Hauelok stod, and lokede þer-til;
And of puttingge he was ful wil,
For neuere yete ne saw he or
Putten the stone, or þanne þor.
Hise mayster bad him gon þer-to,
Als he couþe þer-with do.
Þo hise mayster it him bad,
He was of him sore adrad;
Þerto he stirte sone anon,
And kipte up þat heui ston,
Þat he sholde puten wiþe;
He putte at þe firste siþe,
Ouer alle þat þer wore,
Twel fote, and sumdel more.
Þe chaunpiouns þat þat put sowen,
Shuldreden he ilc oþer, and lowen;
Wolden he no more to putting gange,
But seyde, “we dwellen her to longe!”

Þis selkouth mithe nouth ben hyd,
Ful sone it was ful loude kid
Of hauelok, hw he warp þe ston
Ouer þe laddes euerilkon;
Hw he was fayr, hw he was long,
Hw he was with, hw he was strong;
Þoruth england yede þe speke,
Hw he was strong, and ek meke;
In the castel, up in þe halle,
Þe knithes speken þer-of alle,
So that Godrich it herde wel
Þer speken of hauelok, eueri del,
Hw he was strong man and hey,
Hw he was strong and ek fri,
And þouthte godrich, “þoru þis knaue
Shal ich engelond al haue,
And mi sone after me;
For so i wile þat it be.
The king aþelwald me dide swere
Vpon al þe messe-gere,
Þat y shulde his douther yeue
Þe hexte man þat mithe liue,
Þe beste, þe fairest, þe strangest ok;
Þat gart he me sweren on þe bok.
Hwere mithe i finden ani so hey
So hauelok is, or so sley?
Þou y southe heþen in-to ynde,
So fayr, so strong, ne mithe y finde.
Hauelok is þat ilke knaue,
Þat shal goldeborw haue.”
Þis þouthe he with trechery,
With traysoun, and wit felony;
For he wende, þat hauelok wore
Sum cherles sone, and no more;
Ne shulde he hauen of engellond
Onlepi forw in his hond,
With hire, þat was þerof eyr,
Þat boþe was god and swiþe fair.
He wende, þat hauelok wer a þral,
Þer-þoru he wende hauen al
In engelond, þat hire rith was;
He was werse þan sathanas,
Þat ihesu crist in erþe shop:
Hanged worþe he on an hok!

After goldeborw sone he sende,
Þat was boþe fayr and hende,
And dide hire to lincolne bringe,
Belles dede he ageyn hire ringen,
And ioie he made hire swiþe mikel,
But neþeles he was ful swikel.
He seyde, þat he sholde hire yeue
Þe fayrest man that mithe liue.
She answerede, and seyde anon,
Bi crist, and bi seint iohan,
Þat hire sholde noman wedde,
Ne noman bringen to hire bedde,
But he were king, or kinges eyr,
Were he neuere man so fayr.

Godrich þe erl was swiþe wroth,
Þat she swore swilk an oth,
And seyde, “hwor þou wilt be
Quen and leuedi ouer me?
Þou shalt hauen a gadeling,
Ne shalt þou hauen non oþer king;
Þe shal spusen mi cokes knaue,
Ne shalt þou non oþer louerd haue.
Daþeit þat þe oþer yeue
Euere more hwil i liue!
To-morwe ye sholen ben weddeth,
And, maugre þin, to-gidere beddeth.”
Goldeborw gret, and was hire ille,
She wolde ben ded bi hire wille.
On the morwen, hwan day was sprungen,
And day-belle at kirke rungen,
After hauelok sente þat iudas,
Þat werse was þanne sathanas:
And seyde, “mayster, wilte wif?”
“Nay,” quoth, hauelok, “bi my lif!
Hwat sholde ich with wif do?
I ne may hire fede, ne cloþe, ne sho.
Wider sholde ich wimman bringe?
I ne haue none kines þinge.
I ne haue hws, y ne haue cote,
Ne i ne haue stikke, y ne haue sprote,
I ne haue neyþer bred ne sowel,
Ne cloth, but of an hold with couel.
Þis cloþes, þat ich onne haue,
Aren þe kokes, and ich his knaue.”
Godrich stirt up, and on him dong
With dintes swiþe hard and strong,
And seyde, “But þou hire take,
Þat y wole yeuen þe to make,
I shal hangen þe ful heye,
Or y shal þristen vth þin heie.”
Hauelok was one, and was odrat,
And grauntede him al þat he bad.
Þo sende he after hire sone,
Þe fayrest wymman under mone;
And seyde til hire, false and slike,
Þat wicke þral, þat foule swike:
“But þu þis man under-stonde,
I shal flemen þe of londe;
Or þou shal to þe galwes renne,
And þer þou shalt in a fir brenne.”
Sho was adrad, for he so þrette,
And durste nouth þe spusing lette,
But þey hire likede swiþe ille,
Þouthe it was godes wille:
God, þat makes to growen þe korn,
Formede hire wimman to be born.
Hwan he hauede don him for drede,
Þat he sholde hire spusen, and fede,
And þat she sholde til him holde,
Þer weren penies þicke tolde,
Mikel plente upon þe bok:
He ys hire yaf, and she as tok.
He weren spused fayre and wel,
Þe messe he deden eueridel,
Þat fel to spusing, and god clerk,
Þe erchebishop uth of yerk,
Þat kam to þe parlement,
Als god him hauede þider sent.

Hwan he weren togydere in godes lawe,
Þat þe folc ful wel it sawe,
He ne wisten hwat he mouthen,
Ne he ne wisten wat hem douthe;
Þer to dwellen, or þenne to gonge,
Þer ne wolden he dwellen longe,
For he wisten, and ful wel sawe,
Þat godrich hem hatede, þe deuel him hawe!
And yf he dwelleden þer outh--
Þat fel hauelok ful wel on þouth--
Men sholde don his leman shame,
Or elles bringen in wicke blame.
Þat were him leuere to ben ded,
For-þi he token anoþer red,