Lines 960–1441

And as they in there talkynge stode,
To ordeyne how it beste myght be,
A feyre Ryuer vndyr the toure yode,
And sone there-in gonne they see
A lytelle bote of shappe full good
To theyme-ward with the streme gon te ;
There myght none feyrer sayle on flode
Ne better forgid as of tree.

Whan kynge Arthur saw þat sighte,
he wondrid of the Riche apparrayle
That was aboute the bote I-dighte,
So Richely was it coueryd sanzfayle,
In maner of a voute with clothis I-dighte,
Alle shynand as gold as yt ganne sayle.
Than sayd Sir Gawayne the good knight :
This bote is of A ryche entayle."

"For sothe, sir," sayd the kynge tho,
" Suche one sawgh I neuyr Are ;
Thedir I Rede now þat we go ;
Som aventures shalle we se thare ;
And yif it be with-in dight so
As with-oute or gayer mare,
I darre sanely say therto,
By-gynne wille auntres or ought yare."

Oute of the toure adowne they wente,
The kynge arthur & sir Gawayne;
To the bote they yede with-oute stynte,
They two allone, for sothe to sayne ;
And whan they come there as it lente.
They by-held it faste, is not to layne ;
A clothe that ouer the bote was bente
Sir Gawayne lyfte vp, and went in bayne.

Whan they were in, with-outen lese,
Full Richely aRayed they it found,
And in the myddis a feyre bedde was
For Any kynge of Cristene lond
Than as swithe, or they wold sese.
The koverlet lyfte they vp with hand ;
A dede woman they sighe ther was,
The fayrest mayde þat myght be found.

To Sir Gawayne than sayd the kinge :
" For sothe dethe was to vn-hende,
Whan he wold thus fayre a thinge
Thus yonge oute of the world do wend ;
For hyr biaute with-oute lesynge
I wold fayne wete of hyr kynd,
What she was, this swete derelynge,
And in hyr lyff where she gonne lend."

Sir Gawayne his eyen than on hyr caste
And by-held hyr fast with herte fre
So that he knew welle at the laste,
That the mayde of Ascalote was she,
Whiche he som tyme had wowyd faste
his owne leman for to be,
But she aunsweryd hym Ay in haste,
" To none bot launcelot wold she te."

To the kinge þan sayd sir Gawayne tho :
Thinke ye not on this endris day,
Whan my lady the quene & we two
stode to-gedir in youre play,
Off a mayde I told you tho
That launcelot louyd paramoure Ay ? "
"Gawayne, for sothe," the kynge sayd tho,
" Whan thou it saydiste wele thinke I may."

"For sothe, syr," þan sayd sir Gawayne,
This is the mayd that I of spake ;
most in this world, is not to layne,
She lovid launcelot du lake."
"For sothe," the kynge þan gon to sayne,
me Rewith the deth of hyr for his sake ;
The inchesoun wold I wete full fayne ;
For sorow I trow deth gon hyr take."

Than sir Gawayne, the good knight.
Sought aboute hyr with-oute stynte.
And found a purs fulle Riche a-Righte,
With gold and perlis þat was I-bente;
All empty semyd it noght to sight.
That purs full sone in hond he hente,
A letter there-of than oute he twight :
Than wete they wold fayne what it mente ;

What there was wreten wete they wold ;
And sir Gawayn it toke the kynge
And bad hym open yt that he shold ;
So dyd he sone with-oute lesynge ;
Than found he whan it was vn-fold,
Bothe the ende and the by-gynnynge
(Thus was it wreten, as men me told)
Off that fayre maydens deynge :

The kyng arthur and all his knightis
That longe to the Rounde table,
That corteyse bene and most of myghtis,
Doughty and noble, trew and stable,
And most worshipfull in all fyghtis,
To the nedefull helpinge & profitable.
The mayde of Ascalot to Rightis
Sendith gretinge, with-outen fable :

To you all my playnte I make
Off the wronge that me is wroghte
But noght in maner to vndir-take
That Any of you shold mend it ought ;
Bot onely I say for this sake,
That, thoughe this world were throw sought,
Men shold nowhere fynd your make.
All noblisse to fynde that myght be sought;

There-fore to you to vndirstand
That, for I trewly many a day
haue lovid lelyest in lond,
Dethe hathe me fette of this world away ;
To wete for whome yif ye will found.
That I so longe for in langoure lay.
To say the sothe will I noght wound,
For gaynes it not for to say nay ;

To say you the sothe tale,
For whome I haue suffred this woo,
I say deth hathe me take with bale
For the noblest knight þat may go ;
Is none so doughty dyntis to dale.
So Ryalle ne so fayre ther-to ;
But so churlysshe of maners in feld ne hale
Ne know I none of frende ne fo ;

Off foo ne frend, the sothe to say,
So vn-hend of thewis is ther none ;
his gentillnesse was all a-way,
All churlysshe maners he had in wone ;
For for no thinge þat I coude pray,
Knelynge ne wepinge with Rewfull mone,
To be my leman he sayd euyr nay
And sayd shortely he wold haue none.

For-thy, lordis, for his sake
I toke to herte grete sorow and Care,
So at the laste deth gonne me take,
So þat I might lyve na mare ;
For trew louynge had I suche wrake
And was of blysse browghte All bare ;
All was for launcelote du lake.
To wete wisely for whom it ware."

When that arthure, the noble kyng,
had redde the letter and kene the name,
he said to gawayne, with-oute lesynge,
that launcelott was gretly to blame,
And had hym wonne a Reproovyng
For euyr and a wikkyd fame,
Sythe she deide for grete louyng,
that he her refusyd it may hym shame.

to the kyng than sayd syr gawayne :
I gabbyd on hym thys jendyr day,
that he longede whan I gon sayne
With lady other with som othyr maye ;
bot sothe than sayde ye, is not to layne,
that he holde nought hys loue laye
In so low A place in vayne,
But on a þryse lady and a gaye."

"Syr gawayne," sayd the kyng thoo,
" What is now thy best rede ?
how mow we with thys maydyn do ? "
Syr gawayne sayd : " so god me spede,
Iff that ye wille assent ther-to,
Worshippfully we shulle hyr lede
In-to the palys and bery her so,
As fallys A dukys doughter in dede."

ther-to the kyng Assentid sone ;
Syr gawayne dyd men sone be are,
And worshippfully, as fell to done,
In-to the palyse they her bare,
the kyng than tolde with-out lone
to All hys barons, lesse and mare,
how launcelot nolde noughte graunte hyr bone,
ther-fore she dyed for sorow and care.

to the quene than went syr gawayne
And gon to tell hyr All the case :
"For sothe, madame," he gon to sayne,
" I yelde me gyllty of A trespas.
I gabbyd on launcelot, is not to layne,
of that I tolde you in thys place;
I sayde that hys bydyng bayne
the dukys doughter of Ascolote was ;

off ascalot that mayden ffre,
I sayd you she was hys leman ;
that I so gabbyd it reweth me,
for All the sothe now telle I can ;
he nold hyr nought, we mowe welle se;
For-thy dede is that white as swanne;
thys lettere there-of warannte wolle be ;
She playnethe on launcelot to eche man.

the quene was as wrothe as wynde
And to syr gawayne sayd she than :
"For sothe, Syr, thou were to vnkynde
to gabbe so vppon any man,
but thou haddyst wist the sothe in mynde,
Whether that it were sothe ore nan ;
thy curtessy was All be-hynde,
Whan thou thoo sawes freste began ;

thy worshippe thou vn-dediste gretlyche,
Suche wronge to wite that good knyght ;
I trowe he ne a-gulte the neuyr nought myche
Why that thou oughtiste with no Ryghte
to gabbe on hym so wylanlyche,
thus be-hynde hym, oute of hys syghte.
And, syr, thou ne woste not Ryght wiseliche
What harme hathe falle there-of and myght ;

I wende thou haddiste be stable and trewe
And full of All curtessye,
bot now me thynke thy maners newe,
thay bene All tournyd to vilanye,
now thou on knyghtis makeste thy glewe
to lye vppon hem for envye ;
Who that the worshippeth, it may hem rewe ;
there-fore devoyede my companye."

Syr gawayne than slyghly wente awaye ;
he syghe the quene agreuyd sore ;
No more to hyr than wolde he saye
Bot trowyd hyr wrathe haue euyr more,
the quene than, as she nyghe wode were,
wryngyd hyr handys and said : " well-awaye !
Allas ! in world that I was bore !
that I am a wreche welle say I may!

herte, Allas ! why were thou wode
to trowe that launcelot du lake
were so falsse and fykelle of mode
A-nother lemman than the to take ?
nay, sertes, for Alle thys worldis goode
he nolde to me haue wrought suche wrake."

To fynde A man for hyr to feyghte
Or elles yeld her to be brente ;
Iff she were on a queste of knyghtis,
Wele sche wiste she shold be shente ;
Thoughe that she agilte hade no wight,
No lenger lyffe myght hyr be lente.

The kynge than sighed and gaffe hym ylle
And to syr gawayne than he yede,
To bors de gawnes and lyonelle,
To estor that doughty was in dede,
And askyd yif eny were in wille
To helpe hym in that mykyll nede.
The queue one knes be-fore hem felle,
That neyghe oute of hyr wite she yede.

The knyghtes answeryd with lytell pride,
her hertes was full of sorow and woughe,
Sayd: 'all we saughe and satte besyde,
The knyght when she with poyson sloughe ;
And sythe, in herte is nought to byde,
Syr gawayne ouer the bord hym droughe ;
A-gayne the Ryght we wille not Ryde,
We saw the sothe verely I-noughe."

The quene wepte and sighed sore,
To bors de gawnes went she thoo,
On knes by-fore hym fell she thore,
That nyghe her hert braste in two :
" lord bors," she seyde, " thyn ore !
To-day I shall to dethe goo,
Bot yiffe thy worthy wille wore
To brynge my lyffe oute of thys woo."

Bors de gawnes stille stode
And wrothe a-way hys yen wente.
"Madame," he sayde, " by crosse on rode
Thou art wele worthy to be brente ;
The nobleste bodye of flesshe and blode
. That euyr was yete in erthe lente
For thy wille and thy wykkyd mode
Out of oure companye is wente."

Than she wepte and gaffe hyr ille
And to syr gawayne than she yede,
On knes downe be-fore hym felle,
That neigh oute of hyr witte she yede ;
" Mercy," she cryed loude and shrylle,
Lord, as I no guilt haue of thys dede,
Yif it were thy worthy wille
To-day to helpe me in thys nede ? "

Gawayne answeryd with litelle pride,
Hys hert was full of sorow and woughe :
"Dame, saw I not And sat be-syde,
The knyght whan thou with poyson sloughe ?
And sythe, in hert is not to hyde,
My-selfe oner the bord hym droughe ;
A-gayne the Ryght wille I not Ryde,
I sawghe the sothe verrye T-noughe."

Than she wente to lyonelle,
That euer had bene her owne knyght,
On knes downe be-fore hym felle
That neyghe she lost mayne and myght.
' Mercy," she cryed loude and shrylle,
"lord, As I ne haue gilte no wyght,
Yif it were thy worthy wylle
for my lyffe to take thys fyght ? "

" Madame, how may thou to us take
' And wote thy-selfe so wytterly
That thou hast launcelot du lake
Brought oute of ower companye ?
We may syghe and monynge make
Whan we se knightis kene in crye ;
Be hym thatt me to man gan shape
We ar glade that thou it a-bye ! "

Than full sore she gan hyr drede,
Welle she wiste hyr lyffe was lorne ;
Loude gon she wepe and grede
And estor kneles she be-fome.
" For hym that on the Rode gon sprede
And for vs bare the crone of thorne,
Estor, helpe now in thys nede,
Or, certes, to-day my lyfe is lorne ! '

' Madame, how may thou to us take,
Or how sholde I for the feyght ?
Take the now launcelot du lake
That euyr has bene thyn owne knyght ;
My dere brother, for thy sake
I ne shall hym neuyr se with sight ;
Cursyde be he that the batalle take
To saue thy lyffe a-gayne the Ryghte ! "

Ther wolde no man the batayle take.
The quene wente to her chambyr soo,
So dulefully mone gon she make
That nyghe hyr hert brast in twoo ;
For Sorow gon she sheuer and quake
And sayd : " Allas and wele- A-woo !
Why nade I now launcelot du lake !
All the curte nolde me noght sloo.

yuelle haue I be-sette the dede
That I haue worshipped so many A knyght,
And I haue no man in my nede
For my lyffe darre take a fight.
lord kynge of All thede !
That all the worlde shall Rede and Ryght,
launcelot thou saue and hede.
Sithe I ne shalle neuyr hym se with syght ! '

The quene wepte and gaue hyr ylle ;
Whan she sawe the fyre was yare,
than mornyd she full stille;
To bors de gawnys went sho thare,
By-sought hym, yif it were hys wille,
To helpe hyr in hyr mekylle care ;
In swounynge she be-fore hym felle,
That wordys myght sho speke no mare.

Whan bors saw the quene so bryght.
Of her he hade grete pyte ;
In hys armys he helde her vpe-Byght,
Bade hyr of good comfort be :
"Madame, but there come a better knyght
That wolde the bataile take for the,
I shalle my-selue for the fighte,
Whyle any lyffe may laste in me."

Than was the quene wonder blythe
That bors de gawnys wolde for her feyght,
That nere for loye she swounyd swythe.
But as that he her helde vp-Right ;
To hyr chambre he led hyr blythe,
To ladyes and to maydens bryght,
And bad she shulde it to no man kythe,
Tylle he were armyd and redy dyght.

Bors, that was bolde and kene,
Clepyd All hys other knyghtis,
And tokyn conselle hem be-twene,
The beste that thay couthe and myght,
how that he hathe hyght the quene,
That ilke day for hyr to feyght
A-yenste Syr mador full of tene.
To saue hyr lyfe yife that he myght.

The knyghtis answerd with wo and wrake.
And sayd they wyste wetterlye
That she hathe launcelot du lake
Browght oute of ouere companye.
Nys non that nolde thys bataile take,
Er she hade any vylanye,
But we nylle not so glad hyr make
By-fore we ne suffre hyr to be sorye."

Bors and lionelle, the knyght,
Estor, that doughty was of dede,
To the forest than went thay lyght,
There orysons at the chapelle to bede,
To oure lord god All full of myght
That day sholde lene hem wele to spede,
A grace to venquesshe the feyght ;
Of syr mador thay hade grete drede.

As they came by the forest syde,
There orysons for to make,
The nobleste knyght than saue thay Ryde
That euer was in erthe shape ;
hys loreme lemyd All with pride,
stede and armure All was blake ;
hys name is noght to hele and hyde,
he hyght Syr launcelot du lake.

What wondyr was thoughe they were blythe,
Whan they ther mayster se with syght !
On knes Felle thay as swythe
And thankyd All to god All-myght ;
loye it was to here and lythe
The metynge of the noble knyght ;
And after he askid Also swythe :
"how now farys my lady bryght?

Bors than tolde hym All the Ryght,
It was no lenger for to hyde,
How there dyed a scottysche knyght
Atte the mete the quene besyde :
"To-day, syr, is here dethe All dyght,
It may no lenger be to byde.
And I for hyr haue take the feyght ;
Syr mador, stronge though that he be,

I hope he shall welle proue hys myght."
" To the courte now wende ye thre
And recoumforte my lady bryghte,
Bot loke ye speke no word of me,
I wolle come as A strange knyght."

launcelot that was mochelle of myght
A-bydys in the forest grene ;
To the courte wente these othyr knyghtis
For to recomforte the quene,
To make hyr glade with All theyre myght ;
Grete loye they made hem by-twene ;
For-why she ne sholde drede no wyght,
Off goode comforte they bade her bene.

Bordes were sette and clothys sprede,
The kyng hym-selfe is gone to sytte,
The quene is to the table lade,
With chekys that were wanne and wete ;
Off sorow were they neuyr vn-sad,
Myght they neyther drynke ne ete ;
The quene of dethe was sore A-drade,
That grymly terys gone she lete.

And as thay were at the thryd mese,
The kynge and All the courte be-dene,
Syr mador All redy was,
With helme And shelde and haubarke shene ;
A-monge hem All be-fore the dese
He bloweth oute vppon the quene,
To haue hys Ryght with-outen lese.
As were the covenantes hem by-twene.

The kyng lokyde one All hys knyghtis,
Was he neuere yet so woo,
Saw he neuyr on hym dyght
A-yenste Sir mador for to goo ;
Syr mador swore by goddys myght.
As he was man of herte thro,
Bot yif he hastely haue hys Ryght,
A-monge hem All he sholde hyr slo.

Than spake the kynge of mekelle myght,
That Ay was cortayse and hende :
"Syr, lete vs ete, and sythen us dyght,
Thys day nys nought yit gone to the ende ;
yet myght there come suche A knyght,
yif goddys wyll were hym to sende,
To fynde the thy fylle of fyghte,
Or the Sonne to grounde wende."

Bors than loughe on lyonelle,
Wyste no man of here hertys worde ;
hys chambyr A-none he wendys tylle
With-oute any othyr worde,
Armyd hym at All hys wille
With helme and haubarke, spere and sworde ;
A-gayne than comys he full stylle
And sette hym downe to the horde.

The terys ranne on the kyngis kne
For loye that he sawe bors adyght ;
Up he rose with herte free
And bors in armys clyppis Ryght,
And sayd : " bors, god for-yelde it the,
In thys nede that thow wolde fyghte :
Welle Acquyteste thou it me
That I haue worshipped any knyght."

Than as Syr mador loudeste spake.
The quene of treson to by-ealle,
Comys syr launcelot du lake
Rydand Ryght into the halle ;
hys stede and armure All was blake,
hys visere ouer hys yen falle ;
Many A man by-gonne to quake :
A-drade of hym nyghe were they Alle.

Then spake the kynge, mykelle of myght,
That hend was in Iche A sythe :
" Syr, is it youre wille to lyghte,
Ete and drynke and make you blythe ? "
launcelot spake as A strange knyght :
" Nay, syr, ' he sayd as swythe,
"I herde telle here of A fight ;
I come to saue A ladyes lyue ;

yeuell hathe the quene by-sette hyr dedys
That she hathe worsshippid many A knyght
And she hathe no man in her nedys
That for hyr lyfe dare take a fight.
Thou that hyr of treson gredys,
Hastely that thow be dyghte.
Oute of thy witte þoughe that thou wedis,
To-day thou shalt proue All thy myght."