Book II (concluded), lines 2071–2470

Bot god, the wich that is the soueran lech,
Nedith no maner medysyne to sech;
For ther is no Infyrmyte, nore wound,
Bot as hyme lykith al is holl and sound.
So can he heill Infyrmytee of thoght,
Wich that one erdly medesyne can noght;
And als the saul that to confusioune goith,
And haith with hyme and vther parteis boith,
His dedly wound god helyth frome the ground;
On to his cure no medysyne is found.
This Is his mycht that neuer more shall fyne,
This is the leich withouten medysyne;
And If that yhow at confessioune hath ben
And makith the of al thi synnis clen,
Yow art than holl, and this ilk samyn is he
Schall be thi leich In al necessitee.
Now of the flour y woll to the discerñ:
This is the flour that haith the froyt eterñ,
This is the flour, this fadith for no schour,
This is the flour of euery flouris floure;
This is the flour, of quhom the froyt vas borñ,
This ws redemyt efter that we war lorñ;
This Is the flour that euer spryngith new,
This is the flour that changith neuer hew;
This is the vyrgyne, this is the blessit flour
That Ihesu bur is our salweour,
This flour wnwemmyt of hir wirginitee;
This is the flour of our felicitee,
This is the flour to quhom ve shuld exort,
This is the flour not sessith to support
In prayere, consell, and in byssynes,
Vs catifis ay In to our wrechitnes
On to hir sone, the quich hir consell herith;
This is the flour that al our gladneß sterith,
Throuch whois prayer mony one is sawit,
That to the deth eternaly war resawit,
Ne war hir hartly suplicatioune.
This is the flour of our saluatioune,
Next hir sone, the froyt of euery flour;
This is the sam that shal be thi succour,
If that the lykith hartly Reuerans
And seruice ȝeld one to hir excellens,
Syne worschip hir with al thi byssyneß;
Sche sal thi harm, sche sall thi ned redreß.
Sche sall sice consell if one to the two,
The lyone and the souerane lech also,
Yow sall not Ned yi drem̅ for to dispar,
Nor ȝhit no thing that is in thi contrare.
Now--quod the maister--yow may well wnderstand
Tueching thi drem as I have born on hande;
And planly haith the mater al declarith,
That yhow may know of wich yow was disparith.
The lech, the lyone, and the flour also,
Yow worschip them, yow serve them euermo;
And ples the world as I have said before;
In gouernans thus stondith al thi glore.
Do as yow list, for al is in thi honde,
To tyne thi-self, thi honore, and thi londe,
Or lyk o prince, o conquerour, or king,
In honore and in worschip for to Ringe.”
“Now,” quod the king, “I fell that the support
Of yhour consell haith don me sich comfort,
Of euery raddour my hart is In to eß,
To ȝhour command, god will, y sal obeß.
Bot o thing is yneuch wn to me,
How galiot makith his awant that he
Shall have the knycht, that only by his honde
And manhed, was defendour of my londe;
If that shall fall y pray yhow tellith me,
And quhat he hecht, and of quhat lond is hee?”
“What that he hecht yow shall no foryer know,
His dedis sall her-efterwart hyme schaw;
Bot contrar the he shall be found no way.
No more thar-of as now y will the say.”
With that the king haith at his maistir tone
His leve, one to to his cuntre for to goñe;
And al the ost makith none abyde,
To passing home anone thei can prowid;
And to sir gawane thei haith o lytter maad,
Ful sore ywound, and hyme on with them haade.
The king, as that the story can declar,
Passith to o Cete that was Right fair,
And clepit cardole, In to walis, was,
For that tyme than It was the nerest place,
And thar he soiornyt xxiiijti days
In ryall festing, as the auttore says.
So discretly his puple he haith cherit,
That he thar hartis holy haith conquerit.
And sir gawan, helyt holl and sound
Be xv dais he was of euery wounde;
Right blyth therof in to the court war thei.
And so befell, the xxiiij day,
The king to fall in to o hewynes,
Right ate his table siting at the meß;
And sir gawan cummyth hyme before,
And said hyme, “sir, yhour thoght is al to sore,
Considering the diuerß knychtis sere
Ar of wncouth and strang landis here.”
The king ansuert, as in to matalent,
“Sir, of my thocht, or ȝhit of myne entent,
Yhe have the wrang me to repref, for-quhy
Thar lewith none that shuld me blam, for I
Was thinkand one the worthiest that lewyt,
That al the worschip In to armys prewyt;
And how the thonk of my defens he had,
And of the wow that galiot haith mad.
But I have sen, when that of my houshold
Thar was, and of my falowschip, that wold,
If that thei wist, quhat thing shuld me pleß,
Thei wald nocht leif for trawell nor for eß.
And sum tyme It preswmyt was & said,
That in my houshold of al this world I had
The flour of knychthed and of chevalry;
Bot now thar-of y se the contrarye,
Sen that the flour of knychthed is away.”
“Schir,” quod he, “of Resone suth yhe say;
And if god will, In al this warld so Round
He sal be soght, if that he may he found.”
Than gawan goith with o knychtly chere,
At the hal dure he saith In this maner:
“In this pasag who lykith for to wend?
It is o Iorne most for to comend
That In my tyme In to the court fallith,
To knyghtis wich that chewellry lowith
Or trawell In to armys for to hant;
And lat no knycht fra thyne-furth hyme awant
That it denyith;”--with that onon thei roß,
Al the knychtis, and frome the burdis goß.
The king that sauch In to his hart was wo,
And said, “sir gawan, nece, why dois yow so?
Knowis yow nocht I myne houshold suld encreß,
In knychthed, and in honore, and largeß?
And now yow thinkith mak me dissolat
Of knychtis, and my houß transulat,
To sek o knycht, and It was neuer more
Hard sich o semble makith o before.”
“Sir,” quod he, “als few as may yhow plesß;
For what I said was no thing for myne eß,
Nor for desir of falouschip, for-why
To paß alone, but cumpany, think I;
And ilk knycht to paß o sundry way;
The mo thei paß the fewar eschef thay,
Bot thus shal pas no mo bot as yhow lest.”
“Takith,” quod he, “of quhom ȝhe lykith best,
Fourty in this pasag for to go;”
At this command and gawan chesit so
Fourty, quhich that he louit, & that was
Richt glaid in to his falowschip to pas.
And furth thei go, and al anarmyt thei
Come to the king, withouten more delay,
The relykis brocht, as was the maner tho,
When any knyghtis frome the court suld go.
Or when the passit, or quhen thei com, thei swor
The trouth to schaw of euery aduentur.
Sir gawan knelyng to his falowis sais,
“Yhe lordis, wich that in this seking gais,
So many noble and worthi knychtis ar ȝhe,
Me think in wayne yhour trauel shuld nocht be,
For aduentur is non so gret to pref,
As I suppone, nor ȝhe sal It esschef,
And if ȝhe lyk as I that shal dewyß,
Yhour oth to swer In to the samyne wyß
Myne oith to kep;”--and that thei vndertak,
How euer so that he his oith mak
It to conserf, and that thei have all sworñ.
Than gawan, wich that was the king beforn,
On kneis swore, “I sal the suth duclar
Of euery thing when I agan Repar,
Nor neuer more aȝhane sal I returñ,
Nore in o place long for to suiorñ
Whill that the knycht or verray evydens
I have, that shal be toknis of credens.”
His falouschip abasit of that thing,
And als therof anoyt was the king,
Sayng, “Nece, yow haith al foly vroght
And wilfulneß, that haith nocht in thi thoght
The day of batell of galot and me.”
Quod gawan, “Now non other ways ma be.”
Thar-with he and his falowschip also
Thar halmys lasit, on to ther horß thei go,
Syne tuk ther lef, and frome the court the fare,
Thar names ware to long for to declar.
Now sal we leif hyme and his cumpany,
That in thar seking passith bissely;
And of the lady of melyhalt we tell,
With whome the knycht mot ned alway duell.
O day she mayd hyme on to hir presens fet,
And on o sege be-sid hir haith hyme set,
“Sir, in keping I have yow halding long,”
And thus sche said, “for gret trespas & wrong,
Magre my stewart, in worschip, and for-thi
Ȝhe suld me thonk;”--“madem,” quod he, “and I
Thonk yhow so that euer, at my mycht,
Whar-so I paß that I sal be yhour knycht.”
“Grant mercy, sir, bot o thing I ȝow pray,
What that ȝhe ar ȝhe wold wichsauf to say.”
“Madem,” quod he, “yhour mercy ask I, quhy
That for to say apone no wyß may I.”
“No! wil ȝhe not? non oyer ways as now
Ȝhe sal repent, and ek I mak awow
One to the thing the wich that I best love,
Out frome my keping sal ȝhe not Remuf
Befor the day of the assemblee,
Wich that, o ȝher, is nerest for to bee;
And if that ȝow haith plessit for to say,
Ȝhe had fore me deliuerit ben this day;
And I sal knaw, quheyer ȝhe wil or no,
For I furth-with one to the court sal go,
Whar that al thithingis goith & cumyth soñ.”
“Madem,” quod he, “yhour plesance mot be doñe.”
With that the knycht one to his chalmer goith,
And the lady hir makith to be wroith
Aȝanis hyme, but suthly vas sche not,
For he al-out was mor in to hir thoght.
Than schapith she aȝane the ferd day,
And richly sche gan hir-self aray;
Syne clepit haith apone her cusynes,
And saith, “y will one to the court me dreß;
And malice I have schawin on to ȝhon knycht,
For-quhy he wold nocht schew me quhat he hicht,
Bot so, I-wyß, It is nocht in my thocht,
For worthyar non In to this erth is wrocht.
Tharfor I pray, and hartly I requer
Ȝhe mak hyme al the cumpany and chere,
And do hyme al the worschip and the eß,
Excep his honore, wich that may hym pleß;
And quhen I cum deliuerith hyme als fre
As he is now;”--“ne have no dred,” quod sche.
The lady partit, and hir lef hath ton,
And by hir Iorne to the court Is gon.
The king hapnit at logris for to bee,
Wich of his realme was than the chef cete;
And haith hir met, and In til hartly wyß
Resauit her, and welcummyt oft-syß;
And haith hir home one to his palice brocht,
Whar that no dante nedith to be socht,
And maid hir cher with al his ful entent.
Eft fupir one to o chalmer ar thei went,
The king and sche, and ek the quen al thre;
Of hir tithandis at hir than askit hee,
And what that hir one to the court had brocht?
“Sir,” quod sche, “I come not al for nocht;
I have o frend haith o dereyne ydoo,
And I can fynd none able knycht tharto;
For he the wich that in the contrar Is
Is hardy, strong, and of gret kyne, I-wyß;
Bot, It is said, If I mycht have with me
Ȝour knycht, quich in the last assemble
Was in the feld, and the red armys bur,
In his manhed y mycht my cauß assur;
And yhow, sir, richt hartly I exort
In to this ned my myster to support.”
“Madem, by faith one to the quen I aw
That I best loue, the knycht I neuer saw
In nerneß by which that I hyme knew;
And ek gawane Is gan hyme for to sew
With other fourty knychtis In to cumpany.”
The lady smylit at ther fantessy;
The quen thar-with presumyt wel that sche
Knew quhat he was, and said, “madem, If ȝhe
Knowith of hyme what that he is, or quhar,
We ȝhow besech til ws for to declar.”
“Madem,” quod sche, “now be the faith that I
Aw to the king and yhow, as for no why
To court I cam, but of hyme to Inquere;
And sen of hyme I can no tithingis here,
Nedlyngis to-morn homwart mon I fair.”
“Na,” quod the king, “madem, our son It waire;
Ȝhe sal remayne her for the qwenys sak;
Syne shal ȝhe of our best knychtis tak.”
“Sir,” quod sche, “I pray ȝow me excuß,
For-quhy to paß nedis me behuß;
Nor, sen I want the knycht which I have socht,
Wtheris with me to have desir I nocht,
For I of otheris have that may suffice.”
Bot ȝhit the king hir prayt on sich wyß,
That sche remanit whill the thrid day;
Syne tuk hir leif to pasing hom hir way.
It nedis not the festing to declar
Maid one to hir, nor company nor fare;
Sche had no knycht, sche had no damyseill,
Nor thei richly rewardit war and well.
Now goith the lady homwart, and sche
In her entent desyrus Is to see
The flour of knychthed and of chevelry;
So was he prysit and hold to euery wy.
The lady, which one to hir palace come,
Bot of schort time remanith haith at home
When sche gart bryng, withouten Recidens,
With grete effere this knycht to hir presens,
And said hyme; “sir, so mekil have I socht
And knowith that be-for I knew nocht,
That If yhow lyk I wil yhour Ransone mak.”
“Madem, gladly, wil ȝhe wichsauf to tak
Efter that as my powar may atteñ,
Or that I may prowid be ony meñ.”
“Now, sir,” sho said, “forsuth It sal be so,
Yhe sal have thre, and cheß yhow on of tho;
And if yhow lykith them for to refuß,
I can no mor, but ȝhe sal me excuß,
Yhe nedis mot susten yhour aduentur
Contynualy In ward for til endur.”
“Madem,” quod he, “and I yhow hartly pray,
What that thei say ȝhe wald wichsauf to say?”
“[T]he first,” quod sche, “who hath in to the cheñ
Of low yhour hart, and if ȝhe may dereñ?
The next, yhour nam, the which ȝe sal not lye?
The thrid, if euer ȝhe think of cheualry
So mekil worschip to atten in feild
Apone o day in armys wnder scheld,
As yat ȝhe dyd the samyne day, when ȝhe
In red armys was at the assemblee?”
“Madem,” quod he, “is thar non vther way
Me to redem, but only thus to say
Of thingis, which that Rynyth me to blam,
Me to awant my lady or hir name?
But If that I most schawin furth that one,
What suerte schal I have for to gone
At libertee out of this danger free?”
“Schir, sor to dred no myster is,” quod shee;
“As I am trew and faithfull woman hold,
Ȝhe sal go fre quhen one of thir is told.”
“Madem, yhour will non vther ways I may,
I mone obey; and to the first y say,
Is, to declar the lady of myne hart,
My gost sal rather of my brest astart”--
Whar-by the lady fayndit al for nocht
The lowe quhich long hath ben In to his thocht--
“And of my nam, schortly for to say,
It stondith so that one no wyß I may.
Bot of the thrid, madem, I se that I
Mon say the thing that tuechith velany;
For suth it is I trast, and god before,
In feld that I sal do of armys more
Than euer I did, if I commandit bee.
And now, madem, I have my libertee,
For I have said I neuer thocht to say.”
“Now, sir,” quod sche, “when-euer ȝhe wil ye may;
Bot o thing Is, I yhow hartly raquer,
Sen I have hold yhow apone such maner
Not as my fo, that ȝhe vald grant me till.”
“Madem,” quod he, “It sal be as ȝhe will.”
“Now, sir,” quod sche, “it is no thing bot ȝhe
Remañ with ws wn to the assemble,
And euery thyng that In yhour myster lyis
I sall gar ordan at yhour awn dewyß;
And of the day I shall yow certefy
Of the assemble ȝhe sal not pas therby.”
“Madem,” quod he, “It sal be as yhow list.”
“Now, sir,” quod sche, “and than I hald It best,
That ȝhe remañ lyk to the samyne dogre
As that ȝhe war, yat non sal wit that ȝhe
Deliuerit war; and in to sacret wyß
Thus may ȝhe be; and now yhe sal dewyß
What armys that yhow lykyth I gar mak.”
“Madem,” quod he, “armys al of blak.”
With this, this knycht is to his chalmer goñ;
The lady gan ful prewaly disspone
For al that longith to the knycht, in feild;
Al blak his horß, his armour, and his scheld,
That nedful is, al thing sche well prewidith;
And in hir keping thus with hir he bidith.
Suppos of love sche takyne hath the charg,
Sche bur It clos, ther-of sche vas not larg,
Bot wysly sche abstenit hir dissir,
For ellis quhat, sche knew, he was afyre;
Thar-for hir wit hir worschip haith defendit,
For in this world thar was nan mor commendit,
Boith of discreccioune and of womanhed,
Of gouernans, of nurtur, and of farhed.
This knycht with hir thus al this whil mon duell,
And furth of arthur sumthing wil we tell--
That walkyng vas furth in to his Regiounis,
And soiornyt in his ceteis and his townis,
As he that had of visdome sufficyans.
He kepit the lore of maister amytans
In ryghtwysnes, In festing and larges,
In cherising cumpany and hamlynes;
For he was bissy and was deligent,
And largly he iffith, and dispent
Rewardis, boith one to the pur & riche,
And holdith fest throw al the ȝher eliche.
In al the warld passing gan his name,
He chargit not bot of encreß and fam̅e,
And how his puples hartis to empleß;
Thar gladnes ay was to his hart most eß.
He rakith not of riches nor tressour,
Bot to dispend one worschip & honour;
He ifith riches, he ifith lond and rent,
He cherißyth them with wordis eloquent,
So that thei can them vtraly propone
In his seruice thar lyves to dispone:
So gladith them̅e his homely contynans,
His cherisyng, his wordis of plesans,
His cumpany, and ek his mery chere,
His gret rewardis, and his iftis sere.
Thus hath the king non vthir besynes
Bot cherising of knychtis and largeß,
To mak hyme-self of honour be commend;
And thus the ȝher he drywith to the ende.