Lines 529–792

The messengere ys forth ywent,
To tho hys lordys commaundement,
He hadde wynde at wylle
Whan he was over the water ycome,
The way to Launfal he hath ynome,
And grette hym with wordes stylle :
And seyd, Syr, my lord, syr Valentyne,
A noble werrour, and queynte of gynne,
Hath me sent the tylle ;
And prayeth the, for thy lemmanes sake,
Thou schuldest with hym justes take.
Tho lough Launfal full stylle.

And seyde, as he was gentyl knyght,
Thylke day a fourtenyght,
He wold wyth hym play.
He yaf the messenger, for that tydyng,
A noble courser and a ryng,
and a robe of ray,
Launfal tok leve at Tryamour,
That was the bryght berde yn bour,
And keste that swete may ;
Thanne seyde that swete wyght,
Dreed the nothyng, syr gentyl knyght,
Thou schalt hym sle that day.

Launfal nolde nothyng wyth hym have,
But Blaunchard hys stede, and Gyfre hys knave,
Of all hys tayr mayne ;
He schyppede and hadde wynd well good,
And wente over the solte flod,
Into Lumbardye.
Whan he was over the water ycome,
Ther the justes schulde be nome,
In the cyte of Atalye,
Syr Valentyn hadde a greet ost,
And syr Launfal abatede her bost,
Wyth lytyll cumpanye.

And whan syr Launfal was ydyght,
Upon Blaunchard hys stede lyght,
With helm, and spere, and schelde,
All that sawe hym yn armes bryght,
And seyde they sawe never swych a knyght,
That hym with eyen beheld.
Tho ryde togydere thes knyghtes two,
That har schaftes to-broste bo,
And to-scyverede yn the felde ;
Another cours togedere they rod,
That syr Launfal helm of glod,
In tale as hyt ys telde.

Syr Valentyn logh, and hadde good game,
Hadde Launfal never so moche schame,
Beforhond yn no fyght ;
Gyfre kedde he was good at nede,
And lepte upon hys maystrys stede,
No man ne segh with syght.
And er than thay togedere mette,
Hys lordes helm he on sette,
Fayre and well adyght ;
Tho was Launfal glad and blythe,
And donkede Gyfre many syde,
For hys dede so mochel of myght.

Syr Valentyne smot Launfal soo,
That hys scheld fel hym fro,
Anoon ryght yn that stounde ;
And Gyfre the scheld up hente,
And broghte hyt hys lord to presente,
Er hyt cam thoune to grounde.
Tho was Launfal glad and blythe,
And rode ayen the thrydde syde,
As a knyght of mochel mounde ;
Syr Valentyne he smot so there,
That hors and mon bothe deed were,
Gronyng wyth grysly wounde.

Alle the lordes of Atalye
To syr Launfal hadde greet envye,
That Valentyne was yslawe,
And swore that he schold dye,
Er he wente out of Lumbardye,
And be hongede, and to-drawe.
Syr Launfal brayde out hys fachon,
And as lyght as dew he leyde hem doune,
In a lytyll drawe,
And whan he hadde the lordes selayn,
He went ayen ynto Bretayn,
Wyth solas and wyth plawe.

The tydyng com to Artour the kyng,
Anoon wythout lesyng,
Of syr Launfales noblesse,
Anoon a letter to hym sende,
That Launfal schuld to hym wende,
At seynt Jonnys masse.
For kyng Artour would a feste holde,
Of erles and of barouns bolde,
Of lordynges more and lesse ;
Syr Launfal schud be stward of halle,
For to agye hys gestes alle,
For cowthe of largesse.

Launfal toke leve at Tryamour,
For to wende to kyng Artour,
Hys feste for to agye,
Ther he fond merthe and moch honour,
Ladyes that wer well bryght yn bour,
Of knyghtes greet cumpanye.
Fourty dayes leste the feste,
Ryche, ryall, and honeste,
What help hyt for to lye ?
And at the fourty dayes ende,
The lordes toke har leve to wende,
Everych yn hys partye.

And aftyr mete syr Gaweyn,
Syr Gyeryes, and Agrafayn,
And syr Launfal also,
Wente to daunce upon the grene,
Unther the tour ther lay the quene,
Wyth syxty ladyes and mo.
To lede the daunce Launfale was set,
For hys largesse he was lovede the bet,
Sertayn of alle tho ;
The quene lay out and beheld hem alle,
I se, sche seyde, daunce large Launfalle,
To hym than wyll y go.

Of alle the knyghtes that ye se there,
He ys the fayreste bachelere,
He ne hadde never no wyf ;
Tyde me good, other ylle,
I wyll go and wyte hys wylle,
Y love hym as my lyf.
Sche tok with her a companye,
The fayrest that sche myghte aspye,
Syxty ladyes and fyf,
And went hem doun anoon ryghtes,
Ham to pley among the knyghtes,
Well stylle wythouten stryf.

The quene yede to the formeste ende,
Betwene Launfal and Gauweyn the hende,
And after her ladyes bryght,
To daunce they wente alle yn same,
To se hem play hyt was fayr game,
A lady and a knyght.
They hadde menstrales of moch honours,
Fydelers, sytolyrs, and trompours,
And elles hyt were unryght ;
Ther they playde, for sothe to say,
After mete the somerys day,
All what hyt was neygh nyght.

And whanne the daunce began to slake,
The quene gan Launfal to counsell take,
And seyde yn thys manere :
Sertaynlyche, syr knyght,
I have the lovyd wyth all my myght,
More than thys seven yere.
But that thou lovye me,
Series y dye for love of the,
Launfal, my lemman dere.
Than answerede the gentyll knyght,
I nell be traytour thay ne nyght,
Be god, that all may stere.

Sche seyde, Fy on the, thou coward,
An hongeth worth thou hye and hard,
That thou ever were ybore,
That thou lyvest hyt ys pyte,
Thou lovyst no woman, ne no woman the,
Thow wer worthy forlore.
The knyght was sore aschamed tho,
To speke ne myghte he forgo,
And seyde the quene before :
I have loved a fayryr woman,
Than thou ever leydest thy ney upon,
Thys seven yer and more.

Hyr lothlokste mayde, wythoute wene,
Myghte bet be a quene
Than thou in all thy lyve.
Therfore the quene was swythe wroght,
Sche taketh hyr maydenes, and forth hy goth,
Into her tour also blyve,
And anon sche ley doun yn hyr bedde,
For wrethe syk sche hyr bredde,
And swore, so moste sche thryve,
Sche wold of Launfal be so awreke,
That all the lond schuld of hym speke,
Wythinne the dayes fyfe.

King Artour com fro huntynge,
Blythe and glad yn all thyng,
To hys chamber than wente he,
Anoone the quene on hym gan crye,
But y be awreke, y schall dye,
Myn herte wyll breke athre,
I spak to Launfal yn my game,
And he besofte me of schame,
My lemman for to be ;
And of a lemman hys yelp he made,
That the lodlokest mayde that sche hadde
Myght be a quene above me.

Kyng Artour was well worth,
And be god he swor hys oth,
That Launfal schuld be slawe ;
He wente aftyr doghty knyghtes,
To brynge Launfal anoon ryghtes,
To be hongeth and to-drawe.
The knyghtes softe hym anoon,
But Launfal was to hys chamber gon,
To han hadde solas and plawe ;
He softe hys leef, but sche was lore,
As sche hadde warnede hym before,
Tho was Launfal unfawe.

He lokede yn hys alner,
That fond hym spendyng all plener,
Whan that he hadde nede,
And ther nas noon, for soth to say,
And Gyfre was yryde away,
Up[on] Blaunchard hys stede.
All that he hadde before ywonne,
Hyt malt as snow ayens the sunne,
In romaunce as we rede ;
Hys armur, that was whyt as flour,
Hyt becom of blak colour,
And thus than Launfal seyde :

Alas, he seyde, my creature,
How schall i from the endure,
Swetyng Tryamour?
All my joye i have forlore,
And the that me ys worst sore,
Thou blysful berde yn bour.
He bet hys body and hys hedde ek,
And cursede the mouth that he wyth spek,
Wyth care and greet dolour ;
And, for sorow, yn that stounde,
Anoon he fell aswowe to grounde ;
Wyth that come knyghtes four,

And bond hym, and ladde hym tho,
Tho was the knyghte yn doble wo,
Before Artour the kyng.
Than seyde kyng Artour,
Fyle ataynte traytour !
Why madest thou swyche yelpyng ?
That thy lemmannes lodlokest mayde
Was fayrer than my wyf, thou seyde,
That was a fowl lesynge ;
And thou besoftest her before than,
That sche schold be thy lemman,
That was mysprowd lykynge.

The knyght answerede, with egre mode,
Before the kyng ther he stode,
The quene on hym gan lye :
" Sethe that y ever was yborn.
I besofte her here beforn
Never of no folye.
But sche seyde y nas no man,
Ne that me lovede no woman,
Ne no womannes companye ;
And i answerede her and sayde,
That my lemmannes lodlekest mayde
To be a quene was better wordye.

Series, lordynges, hyt ys so,
I am a redy for to tho
All that the court wyll loke.
To say the soth, wythout les,
All togedere how hyt was,
Twelve knyghtes wer dryve to boke.
All they seyde ham betwene,
That knewe the maners of the quene,
And the queste toke ;
The quene bar los of swych a word,
That sche lovede lemmannes wythout her lord,
Har never on hyt forsoke.