Lines 1–432

Then the good knight and his steward true
They sat them down, and counsel drew
Alike from far and near;
Quoth the steward: "Sir ye owe yet more
Than your lands have yielded heretofore
E'en for this seven year,
Of whom ye can, I beseech you pray
He give you grace to a further day;
Then call your household here,
And put away many of your men,
And keep but one where ye now keep ten
Tho' they be ne'er so dear."

Sir Amadace quoth: " 'T were long, to wit,
Ere I of all these, my debts, were quit
Altho' I naught might spend,
Did I dwell the while where I was born
I were held of every man in scorn
Who now have many a friend
Accursed of all men should I be
Since I of their goods had been so free
That they erst while did lend.
Or I must hold them by fear and threat
Lest that which was theirs again they get
Thus made I a sorry end!

"I will take unto me another rede,
And another counsel, in this my need,
Hid sorrow is better than seen!
But now good Steward, as thou hold'st me dear,
Of my plight so sore let no man hear,
Hide it us twain between
My land in pledge for seven years set,
To the worth of all that I be in debt,
So shall I be freed, I ween
For out of this land I think to wend
The while I have silver and gold to spend
Till of debt I be quit full clean.

"But certes ere yet afar I fare
My goods in right royal wise I'll share
To aid me thou shalt not fail:
Rich gifts will I give at each man's desire
To noble knight and to humble squire,
The poor shall his portion hail.
For some there be,, an they knew my woe,
Who were even fain that it should be so,
And naught would better my bale,
So courteous a man was never born
Who should 'scape from every breath of scorn
When each man had told his tale!"

Sir Amadace, so the tale doth say,
Would get him forth, as fell the day,
From his country in that stound,
But first full rich were the gifts he gave
Alike to squire and knight so brave,
Of steed and hawk and hound.
Thereafter, so doth it run, my tale,
He made him ready withouten fail
And to his woe he found,
When he upon his way would wend,
Naught in his coffers had he to spend
But barely forty pound

Thus as I tell ye Sir Amadace
Gat him forth on his way apace
As fast as ever he might,
He rode thro' a wood right cheerily
Till he came to a chapel of stone and tree
Wherein there burnt a light;
He bade his servant thither speed,
And take of that light therein good heed
And tidings bear forthright.
The servant, he hasted to do his will,
But the stench of the chapel, he liked it ill,
Withstand it no man might!

His hood he drew over mouth and nose,
And came to the chapel door full close,
Tidings he fain would hear:
He turned his eye to a pane of glass
To see what marvels within might pass,
And lo! there stood a bier,
Around it candles, a goodly store,
A woman watcher, and no man more,
Christ, she was sad of cheer!
To tarry there was he no-wise fain,
Back to his master he sped again
And told him the tale so drear.

He quoth: "At yon chapel have I been,
A wondrous sight I there have seen,
My heart is heavy as lead;
There standeth a bier, of lights great store,
There sitteth a woman, and no man more,
Bitter the tears she shed!
So evil a savour there was alway
That certes never before to-day
Have I been so sore bestead
By grace of the palfrey that I bestride
But short while did I in that stress abide,
I trow I had soon been dead!"

Sir Amadace bade his squire to fare:
"Ask thou of the woman what doth she there,
True tidings bring to me!"
The squire he gat to the chapel wall,
And e'en as he said he saw withal,
It vexed him right bitterly:
But his nostrils were smitten with such a smell
He might there in no-wise longer dwell,
Back to his lord went he,
And quoth: "Good Master, by your leave,
Altho' I be loath your heart to grieve
Naught may ye know thro' me!

"A bier and candles, and nothing more,
A woman watching, and weeping sore,
Christ, she hath mickle care! m
She sigheth sore, and her hands doth wring,
And ever she calls on Heaven's King
How long must he lie there?
She saith: 'Dear God, why must this be,
This sorrow that I needs must see,
Why should he so foully fare?'
She saith she will leave him not alone
Till she lieth dead on that floor of stone
For the love that to him she bare."

Sir Amadace hearkened, and spurred his steed,
To the chapel door he came with speed,
And hastily did alight;
As his squire had said, so he found it truth,
"T was the wickedest whiff he had smelt, i-sooth,
Yet in went that gallant knight,
And he quoth: "Dame, God's mercy be with thee."
She answered: "Sir, welcome may ye be,"
Greeting she gave aright.
He quoth: "Say, Lady, what dost thou here,
Watching this dead corpse on this bier
Thus lonely throughout the night?"

She saith: "Sir, my place is at his side
For in sooth none other will here abide,
He was my husband dear."
Sir Amadace quoth: "I like it not,
'T will be your death, so God me wot,
He lieth o'er long on bier!
But say, what manner of man was he? "
"Sir, a merchant of good degree
In this city; every year
Of rent had he full three hundred pound,
Of ready money, good and round,
And for debt he lieth here!"

Sir Amadace quoth: "By the Holy Rood,
In what manner hath he so spent his good
That thus it be all away?"
"Sir, on knights, and squires, and officers,
And lordings great who were his peers,
He gave them gifts alway.
Right royal feast he loved to make;
The poor folk, too, for Christ's dear sake,
He fed them every day
Who to his door should come anon
And for love of God would pray a boon
He ne'er would say him nay.

"Yet in sooth he wrought as doth a fool,
For he clad more men at every Yule
Than ever a noble knight!
His meat he thought in no wise to spare,
The board in his hall was never bare
With fair cloth richly dight;
And if I said that he did amiss,
He sware 'God would all repay,' I wis,
And made of my words full light.
To so much had he pledged his name
I dare not say for very shame
How sorry was his plight!

"And then came death — Ah, woe is me!
My lord and I must sundered be,
He left me sorrow sore!
When the neighbours heard that sick he lay
They came in haste, nor made delay,
Of their goods they asked the store:
All that was ever his or mine,
House or oxen, sheep or swine,
Forthwith from me they tore.
My marriage portion then I sold,
And all the pennies in payment told,
And yet he owed still more

"For when my quittance thus was told
Yet thirty pounds of good red gold
As debt remained alway,
To a merchant of this city good
Who fared afar by field and flood
Nor came till dead he lay.
Soon as he knew my sorry fare
He came as grim as any bear
The burial rites to stay:
He sware dogs should his body draw
And on the field his bones should gnaw —
Drear is my lot alway

"These sixteen weeks I have sat me here
Guarding this dead corpse on the bier
With candles burning bright,
And so I think to do alway
Till death shall take me hence away
By Mary, Maid of might!"
Sir Amadace asked the merchant's name
Who thus had done her grievous shame,
She told him how he hight.
He quoth: "God's Power may well avail
To comfort thee, and cure thy bale,
I bid thee, Dame, good-night!" Fytte

Sir Amadace on his palfrey leapt,
Nor might forbear, but sorely wept,
On his deeds he him bethought:
He quoth: "He who lieth those walls within
Of a truth he and I might well be kin
For right so have I wrought!"
He told his squire how the merchant hight,
And said: "In his house I will lie tonight
By Christ Who dear me bought!
Go, look that the supper be ordered fair
With royal meats, and dainties rare,
Of spices spare thou naught!"

Soon as the squire he heard the tale
To seek the merchant he did not fail
And made ready for the knight.
Sir Amadace came with valiant show
But in his heart was mickle woe,
Hastily down he light,
He gat him into a chamber there,
And robed him in raiment rich and rare,
Set torches burning bright;
Forthwith he bade his squire to go
And pray his host, and his wife also,
To sup with him that night.

Straightway the squire he went his way,
And came to the merchant without delay,
His errand told anon:
The host right joyfully he sware:
"By Christ Whom Mary Maid did bear,
Thy lord's will shall be done!"
The board was set, and the cloth was laid,
The meal with dainties fair displayed,
Thus to the dais they won
Sir Amadace sat, and made good cheer,
But he thought of the dead man on the bier,
Full sadly he mused thereon.

He quoth: "As I rode my way, I trow,
I saw a sight which I think on now
It grieveth me evermore,
In a lonely chapel beside the way
All on a bier a body lay,
With a woman weeping sore."
"Yea," quoth his host, "God give him woe,
And all such wastrels as he also,
He wrought me ill of yore;
He lieth there with my thirty pound
Of honest money, red gold and round,
I shall see it never more!"

Quoth the knight: "I will tell thee a better rede
Forgive, e'en as God has forgiven, his deed,
And merit thou sure shalt have;
Think thou how God ordained for thee
A better lot than this man might see,
Let the corse be laid in grave!"
Then he sware: "By Jesu, Mary's Son,
That body its rest shall ne'er have won
Till I have the price I crave;
Let the woman die, as well as he.
Dogs shall gnaw their bones, as I fain would see,
Wastrel was he, and knave!"

When Sir Amadace heard what the merchant sware
He bade his steward in haste to fare,
Great kindness he did that day:
He said: "Go fetch me thirty pound
Of ready money good and round,
Nor tarry upon the way."
The steward, he held it for little skill,
Yet needs must he do his master's will,
Now hearken, for well ye may!
Full thirty pound the knight paid him there,
Then bade them the wine cup around to bear,
And prayed his host be gay.

Sir Amadace quoth: "Sir Host, now tell,
Doth he owe thee more?" "Nay, God keep thee well,
Thou hast paid me all, Sir Knight."
Then he quoth:" So far as ten pound will take
That will I do for the dead man's sake,
So far shall he have his right;
Mass for his soul shall they say and sing,
His body to Christian burial bring,
That shalt thou see with sight.
Bishop and priest shalt thou aye entreat
That to-morrow they eat with me at meat,
And see that the feast be dight."

Whenever it came to dawning time
Then all the bells began to chime
To bring that soul from stress;
All the religious, every one,
Towards that dead corpse are they gone
With many a rich burgess.
Thirty the priests who that day did sing,
And that gentle knight, he gave a ring
At every Mass, no less.
And then, when the service was done, full soon
He prayed them to eat with him at noon
Great, and small, in gentleness.

The host, by a pillar he took his stand
And men drew nigh him on either hand
To wit what he would say —
He said: "Sirs, of late there hath lain here
The corpse of a man upon a bier,
Ye know the cause alway;
Hither a royal knight he rode,
Of all the money the dead man owed
Hath he made me ready pay;
Then from his coffer he bade them bring
Ten pounds, with many a goodly ring
For his burying here to-day.

"In his name, and in that of the Dead, 't is meet
I bid ye to-day with him to eat
All of ye who be here."
As Sir Amadace prayed so did they all,
Of meat and drink took their fill withal,
Rich wine and food full dear.
But Sir Amadace spared to sit adown,
He served the poor folk of that town,
They lay to his heart anear.
When they had eaten their fill withal
Sir Amadace took his leave of all,
It seemed, of right good cheer.

When all the folk thus had had their fill
They saddled his palfrey at his will
And brought it before the door;
Sir Amadace, he was ready dight.
But he knew not where he should lie that night,
Of money had he no more
Small wonder if he were sad at heart
When from all his goods he thus must part,
In sooth it was sorry lore
Then, e'en as a courteous knight became,
He prayed leave of the master of noblest name,
So gentles were wont of yore!

And scarcely the knight had gone his way
When every man would have his say
Ere he had passed the gate;
Some said: "This money was lightly won
When thus like water he lets it run,
And spendeth both morn and late."
Some said: "He was born in a lucky day
Who might win a penny of that man's pay!"
Little they knew his state!
Lo! how they misjudged that gentle knight'
Who had spent even more than he justly might,
Sorrow was now his mate!

At the six-mile stone he drew his rein
Where a cross, it parted the way in twain,
And he quoth, Sir Amadace,
To his faithful steward, ('t was him full loth,)
To his sumpterman, and his squires both,
And said: "Now by Christ, His Grace,
Good Sirs, I pray ye do not grieve
But now must ye take from me your leave
Yourselves, ye know my case;
No man will I longer with me lead
When I have no silver that man to feed
Or clothe, in any place!"

Never a man was so hard of heart
But when he thus from his lord must part,
He made mourning, loud and low.
Sir Amadace quoth: "Nay, have no care,
For ye shall find masters everywhere,
I wot well it shall be so.
And God of His mercy, I give ye rede,
May send me counsel in this my need,
And bring me clean out of woe;
Merry of heart shall I once more be,
Then a welcome glad shall ye have from me,
That would I have ye know."

He quoth to his servants in that stound:
"The worst steed here is worth full ten pound,
That shall ye have anon;
Sumpterman, steward, squire and knave,
Each of you all for his own shall have
The horse that he rides upon,
Saddle, and bridle, and other gear,
Altho' I bought it never so dear,
I give it ye, by Saint John!
God keep ye all good men, I trow!
To the keeping of Christ I commit ye now —
So they left him, every one.

Thus all his men they went their way
And the knight, in sorrow he rode that day,
All by himself alone.
Through the forest thick the road led right,
Down from his palfrey would he alight
And, mournful, he made his moan,
When he thought of his lands, so fair and good,
His towns and castles that stately stood,
How all were set on loan;
And how he was now so sore bestead
That for poverty he afar had fled,
For folly must thus atone.

Then in sorrow he spake, Sir Amadas
"A man that of good but little has,
Men set him lightly by;
When I had three hundred pound of rent
Two hundred I spent in that intent
Of such forethought was I!
The while I such household had at hand
Men held me a noble lord in land,
And gave to me honour high.
But now may the wise man dwell at home
While fools are forced afar to roam,
And Christ wot, so may I!

He said: "Sweet Jesu, Who died on Rood,
Who shed for me Thy Precious Blood,
And all this world hath won,
I pray that I come not in the sight
Of any who knew me afore as knight,
Save I prosper, 'neath moon and sun.
And grant that I win unto me again
Those who their way from me have ta'en,
Who have loyal service done.
Or else, Lord, I humbly pray of Thee
That Death may come swiftly unto me,
And my race betimes be run.

"For want of wit, so it seemeth me,
Out of the land I needs must flee,
From friendship I find small grace:
Thro' naught save good will and kindliness
Have I brought myself to this sorry stress —
Thus prayed Sir Amadace:
And he quoth: "Lord Jesu, Who died on Tree,
I pray Thee Thy succour send now to me
Speedily, in this place;
For if but a measure of help thou send
I wot of that measure I fain would lend,
Nor turn from the poor my face!"