Lines 1442–1919

Than was Syr mador Also blythe
As foule of day after the nyght ;
To hys stede he wente that Sythe,
As man that was of moche myght ;
To the felde than Ryde thay swythe,
hem folowes bothe kyng and knyght.
The bataile for to se and lythe.
Saugh nevir no man A stronger fyght ;

Vn-horsid were bothe knyghtis kene.
They metten with so myche mayne,
And sythe thay faught with swerdys kene,
Bothe on fote, for sothe to sayne ;
In Alle the batailles that launcelot had bene,
With hard acountres hym A-gayne,
In poynte had he nevir bene
So nyghe hande for to haue be slayne.

There was so wondyr stronge A fyghte,
O fote nolde nouther fle ne founde
frome loughe none tylle late nyght,
Bot gyffen many a wofull wounde.
launcelot than gaffe A dynte with myght,
Syr mador fallys at laste to grounde ;
"Mercy," cryes that noble knyght.
Fore he was seke and sore vnsound.

Thoughe launcelot were breme as bore,
Full stournely he ganne vp stande ;
O dynte wolde he smyte no more,
hys swerd he threwe oute of his hande.
Syr mador by god than sware ;
I haue foughte in many A lande,
With knyghtis bothe lesse and mare,
And neuyr yit er my mache I founde ;

Bot, Syr, A prayer I wolde make.
For thynge that ye loue moste on lyfe
And for oure swete lady sake,
youer name that ye wolde me kythe."
launcelot gan hys viser vp take
And hendely hym shewed that sythe.
Whan he saughe launcelot du lake,
Was neuyr man on molde so blythe :

" lord," thane said he, " welle is me,
Myne Auauntement that I may make
That I haue stande on dynte of the
And foughten with launcelot du lake;
My brother's dethe for-geffen be
To the queue for thy sake."
launcelot hym kyste with herte fre
And in hys armys gan hym vp take.

Kynge Arthur than loude spake
A-monge hys knyghtis to the quene:
"ȝa, yonder is launcelot du lake,
Yiff I hym euyr with syght haue sene."
Thay Ryden and roune than for hys sake,
The kynge and Alle hys knyghtis kene :
In hys armys he gon hym take,
The kynge hym kyste and courte by-dene.

Than was the quene glade I-noghe
Whan she saw launcelot du lake,
that nyghe for loy she felle in swoughe
Bot as the lordys hyr gan vp take.
The knyghtis All wepte and loughe,
For loye as thay to-gedyr spake ;
Withe Syr mador, with-outen woughe.
Full some acordement gon they make.

It was no lenger for to A-byde
Bot to the castelle thay Rode as swythe.
Withe trompys and with mykelle pryde.
That loy it was to here and lythe ;
Thoughe syr mador myght not go ne Ryde
To the curte is he brought that sythe,
And knyghtis vppon Iche A syde
To make hym bothe glad and blythe.

The squeers than were takyn Alle
And thay ar put in harde payne,
Whiche that seruyd in the halle,
Whan the knyght was with poyson slayne.
There he grauntyd A-monge hem Alle,
It myght no lenger be to layne,
How in an Appelle he dede the galle
And hadde it thought to syr gawayne.

Whan syr mador herde All the Ryght,
That no gylte hadde the lady sliene,
For sorowe he loste mayne and myghte
And on knees felle be-fore the quene ;
launcelot then hym holde vppe Ryghte
For loue that was them be-twene ;
Hym kyste bothe kynge and knyght
And sythen All the curte by-dene.

The squyer than was done to shende.
As it was bothe lawe and Ryght,
Drawen and hongyd and for-brende
Be-fore syr mador, the noble knyghte.
In the castelle thay gan forthe lende,
The loyus gard than was it hyghte;
launcelot that was so hende
Thay honouryd hym with Alle ther myght.

Atyme be-felle, sothe to sayne,
the knyghtis stode in chambyr and spake,
Bothe gaheriet and syr gawayne
And mordreite that mykelle couthe of wrake :
" Allas I " than sayde syr A-grawayne,
' How fals men schalle we vs make !
And how longe shalle we hele and layne
The treson of launeelote du lake !

Wele we wote, with-outen wene,
The kynge arthur oure eme sholde be
And launeelote lyes by the quene ;
A-geyne the kynge traytor is he ;
And that wote All the curte by-dene,
And Iche day it here and see ;
To the kynge we shulde it mene,
Yif ye wille do by the counselle of me."

" Wele wote we," sayd syr gawayne,
That we ar of the kyngis kynne,
And launcelot is so mykyll of mayne
That suche wordys were better blynne.
Welle wote thou, brothyr agrawayne,
Tliere-of shulde we bot harmys wynne ;
yit were it better to hele and layne
Than werre and wrake thus to be-gynne.

Welle wote thou, brother agrawayne,
launcelot is hardy knyght and thro ;
kynge and courte hade ofte bene slayne,
Nad he bene better than we mo ;
And sythen myght I neuyr sayne
The loue that has bene by-twene vs twoo ;
launcelot shalle I neuyr be-trayne
By-hynde hys bake to be hys foo.

launcelot is kynges sonne full good.
And therto hardy knyght and bolde,
And sythen and hym ned by-stode,
Many A lande wolde with hym holde ;
Shedde ther sholde be mykelle blode
For thys tale, yiffe it were tolde ;
Syr Agrawayne he were full wode
That suche a thynge be-gynne wolde."

Than thus gatys as the knyghtis stode,
Gawayne and All that other pres.
In come the kynge with mylde mode ;
Gawayne than sayd : " felaus, pees."
The kynge for wrathe was neghe wode
For to wette what it was ;
Aggrawayne swore by crosse And Rode :
"I shalle it you telle with-oute lees."

Gawayne to hys chambyr wente,
Off thys tale nolde he noght here ;
Gaheriet and gaheryes of hys A-sente
Withe here brother went they there ;
Welle they wyste that All was shente
And syr gawayne by god than swere :
"here now is made A comsemente
That bethe not fynysshyd many A yere."

Syr Agrawayne tolde Alle be-deno
To the kynge with symple chère,
How " launcelot liggys by the quene,
And so has done full many A yere.
And that wote All the courte by-dene
And Iche day it se and here,
And we haue false and treytours bene
That we ne wolde neuyr to you dyskere."

"Allas I " than sayd the kynge thore,
"Certes, that were grete pyte.
So As man nad neuyr hit more
Off biaute ne of bounte
Ne man in worlde was neuyr yit ore ,
Off so mykylle noblyte.
Allas ! full grete duelle it were
In hym shulde Any treson be ;

But sythe it is so, with-outen fayle,
Syr Agrawayne, so god the Kede,
What were now thy beste consayle
For to take hym with the dede ?
he is man of suche Apparayle,
Off hym I haue full mychelle drede ;
All the courte nolde hym Assayle
Yiff he were Armyd vppon hys stede."

"Syr, ye and All the courte by-dene
Wendythe to-morowe on huntynge Byght,
And sythen send word to the quene
That ye wille dwelle with-oute All nyght,
And I and other xii knyghtes kene
Full preuely we shall vs dyght ;
We shalle hym haue with-outen wene,
To-morow or Any day by lyght."

On the morow with All the courte by-dene
The kynge gonne on huntynge Ryde,
And sythen he sent word to the quene
That he wolde All nyght oute A-byde.
Aggrawayne with xii knyghtys kene
Atte home be-lefte that ilke tyde ;
Off Alle the day they were not sene,
So prewely thay gonne hem hyde.

Tho was the quene wondyr blythe
That the kynge wolde at the foreste dwelle ;
To launcelot she sente as swythe
And bad that he shulde come her tille.
Syr bors de gawnes be-ganne to lythe,
Thoughe hys herte lyked ille ;
"Syr," he said, "I wolde you kythe
A word, yif that it were your wille :

Syr, to-nyght I rede ye dwelle ;
I drede ther be som treson dight
Withe Agrawayne, that is so felle,
That waites you bothe day and nyght ;
Off Alle that ye haue gonne hyr-tylle
Ne greuyd me neuyr yit no wight
Ne neuyr yit gaffe myn herte to ille
So mykelle as it dothe to-nyght."

" Bors," he sayd, " bolde stylle ;
Suche wordys ar noughte to kythe ;
I wille wende my lady tille,
Som new tythandes for to lythe ;
I ne shall noght bote wete hyr wylle,
loke ye make youe glad and blythe ;
Certenly I nelle nought dwelle
Bot come A-gayne to youe All swythe."

For-why he wende haue comynne sone,
For to dwelle had he not thought,
Non Armore he dyde hym vppon
Bot A Robe All sengle wrought ;
In hys hand A swerd he fone,
Off tresson dred he hym Ryght noght ;
There was no man vndyr the mone
be wende with harme durste hym haffe sought.

Whan he come to the lady shene, '
he kissid and clypped that swete wyght ;
For sothe, they neuyr wolde wene
That any treson was ther dyght ;
So mykylle loue was hem by-twene
That they noght de-parte Myght ;
To bede he gothe with the quene
And there he though te to dwelle Alle nyght.

he was not buskyd in hys bedde,
launcelot in the quenys boure,
Come Agrawayne and syr mordreit
With xii knyghtys stiffe in stowre ;
Launcelot of tresson they be-gredde,
Callyd hym fals and kyngys treytoure,
And he so strongly was by-stedde
There-inne he hadde non Armoure.

" Welaway ! " than sayd the quene,
" launcelot, what shall worthe of vs twoo !
The loue that hathe bene vs be-twene
To suche endynge that it sholde goo !
Withe Agrawayne that is so kene,
That nyght And day hathe bene oure foo,
Now I wote, with-outen wene,
That Alle oure wele is tomyd to woo.

"Lady," he sayd, "thow moste blynne ;
Wyde I wote these wordis bethe Ryffe ;
Bot is here any Armoure inne.
That I may haue to saue my lyffe ? "
"Certis, nay," she sayd thenne,
"Thys Antoure is so wondyr stryffe
That I ne may to none Armoure wynne,
Helme ne hauberke, swerd ne knyffe."

Euyr Agrawayne and syr mordred
Callyd hym Recreante fals knyght.
Bad hym Ryse oute of hys bedde,
For he moste nedis with them fyght ;
In hys Robe than he hym cled,
Thoughe he none Armoure gete myght ;
Wrothely oute hys swerd he gredde,
The chamber dore he sette vp Ryght.

An Armyd knyght be-fore in wente,
And wende launcelot wele to sloo,
Bot launcelot gaffe hym soche A dynte
That to the grounde gonne he go ;
The other all agayne than stente ;
Aftyr hym dorste folowe no moo ;
To the chambyr dore he sprente
And claspid it with barres twoo.

The knyght that launcelot has slayne,
Hys Armoure founde he fayre and bryght ;
Hastely he hathe hem ofdrayne
And therin hym-selfe dight.
"Now, know thou wele, syr Agrawayne,
Thow presons me no more to-Nyght."
Oute than sprange he with mykell mayn,
Hym-selfe a-yenste hem alle to fyght.

Launcelot than smote with herte goode,
Wete ye welle, with-outen lese ;
Syr Agrawayne to dethe yode,
And sythen All the other presse ;
Was non so stronge that hym with-stode
Be he had made A lytelle Rese ;
Bot mordreit fled as he were wode,
To saue hys lyff full fayne he was.

Launcelot to hys chambre yode,
I To bors and to hys other knyghtis ;
Bors Armyd be-fore hym stode,
To bedde yit was he nojt dight ;
The knyghtis for fere was nye wode,
So were they drechyd all that nyght,
Bot blythe wexid they in her mode
Whan they her mastyr sawghe with syght.

"Syr," sayd bors, the hardy knyght,
" Aftyr you haue we thoght full longe,
To bedde durste I ne not dight.
For drede ye hade som Aunter stronge ;
Owre knyghtis haue be drechyd to-nyght,
That som nakyd oute of bed spronge,
For-thy we were full sore a-fryght
Leste som treson were vs Amonge."

" Ya, bors, drede the no wight,
Bot bethe of herte good and bolde,
And swythe A-waken vp All my knyghtis
And loke whiche wille with vs holde ;
Loke they be Armyd and redy dight,
For it is sothe that thou me tolde,
We haue be-gonne thys ilke nyght
That shall brynge many A man full colde."

Bors than spake with drery mode :
" Syr," he sayd, " sithe it is so,
We shalle be of hertis good
Aftyr the wele to take the wo."
The knyghtis sprent as they were wode
And to there harneise gon the go ;
At the morow Armyd be-fore hym stode
An hundrethe knyghtis and squyers mo.

Whan they were armyd and redy dight,
A softe pas forth gonne they Ride,
As men that were of mykelle myght.
To A forest there be-syde ;
Launcelot Arrayes All hys knyghtis
And there they loggen hem to byde
Tylle they herd of the lady bryght,
What Auntere of hyr shulde be-tyde.

Mordreit than toke A way full gayne,
And to the forest wente he Right,
Hys Auntures tolde, for sothe to sayne,
That were by-fallyn that ylke nyght.
" Mordreit, haue ye that treitour slayne,
Or how haue ye with hym dight ? "
' Nay, syr, bot dede is aggrawayne,
And so Ar All oure other knyghtis."

Whan it herde syr gawayne,
That was so hardy knyght and bolde,
" Allas ! is my brother slayne ? "
Sore hys herte be-gan to colde ;
" I warnyd wele syr Aggrawayne,
Or euyr yit thys tale was tolde,
Launcelot was so myche of mayne,
A-yenste hym was stronge to bolde."

It was no lenger for to byde,
Kynge And All hys knyghtis kene
Toke there counselle in that tyde,
What was beste do with the quene.
It was no lenger for to byde,
That day for-brent shuld she bene.

The fyre than made they in the felde,
There-to they brought that lady fre,
All that euyr myght wepene welde
A-boute her Armyd for to bee.
Gawayne, that stiffe was vndir shelde,
Gaheryet ne gaheryes ne wold not see ;
In there chamber they hem holde;
Off hyr they had grete pyte.

The kynge Arthure that ylke tyde
Gawayne And gaherys for sent ;
here Answeres were nojt for to hyde,
They ne wolde nojt be of hys assente ;
Gawayne wolde neuyr be nere by-syde
There Any woman shuld be brente ;
Gaheriet And gaheries with lytelle pryde,
All vn- Armyd thedyr they wente.

A squeer gonne tho tythandes lythe,
That launcelot to courte had sente ;
To the foreste he wente as swithe
There launcelot and hys folke was lente,
Bad hem come and haste blythe,
The quene is ledde to be brente ;
And they to hors and Armes swythe
And Iche one be-fore other sprente.

The quene by the fyre stode,
And in hyr smoke All redy was ;
lordyngis was there many and good
And grete power, with-outen lese.
Launcelot sprente, as he were wode,
Full sone partyd he the prees,
Was none so styffe a-jeynste hym stode,
Be he had made a lytelle Rese.

There was no stele stode hem ajeyne ;
Though faught they but A lytelle stound,
Lordyngys that were myche of mayne
Many goode were brought to grounde ;
Gaheriet and gaheries bothe were slayne,
Wythe many A doulfull dethes wounde;
The quene thay toke with-oute layne,
And to the foreste gonne they founde.

The tythyngis is to the kynge brought,
how launcelote has tane away the quene.
" Suche wo as there is wroughte !
Slayne ar Alle oure knightis kene."
Downe he felle and swounyd ofte,
Grete duelle it was to here and sene ;
So nere hys herte the sorowe soughte
All-moste hys lyffe wolde no man wene ;

"Ihesu cryste! what may I sayne?
In erthe was neuyr man so wo ;
Suche knyghtys as there ar slayne
In All thys worlde there is no mo.
Lette no man telle Syr gawayne,
Gaheriet hys brother is dede liym fro,
But welaway I the reuf ulle Rayne,
That euyr launcelote was my fo ! "

Gawayne gonne in his chambyr hym holde,
Off All the daye he nolde not oute goo ;
A squyer than the tythandys tolde
What wondyr theighe hys herte were wo !
' Allas ! " he sayde, " my brother bolde,
Where gahereit be dede me fro?"
So sore hys hert be-gan to colde
All-moste he wolde hym-selff sloo.

The squyer spake with drery mode,
To re-comfort syr Gawayne :
' Gaheriet eyles noght bot goode ;
he wolle sone come A-gayne."
Gawayne sprent as he were wode
To the chambre there they lay slayne ;
The chambre flore Alle ranne on blode,
And clothys of golde were ouer hem drayne.

A clothe he heuys than vppon hyght ;
What wondyr thoughe hys hert were sore
So dulfully to se them dight
That ere so doughty knyghtis were !
Whan he hys brother sawghe with syght,
A word myght he speke no more ;
There he loste mayne and myght
And ouyr hym felle in swounynge thore

Off swounynge whan he myght A-wake,
The hardy knyght, syr gawayne,
Be god he sware and loude spake,
As man that myche was of mayne :
" Be-twixte me And launcelote du lake
Nys man in erthe, for sothe to sayne,
Shall trewes sette and pees make,
Er outher of vs haue other slayne."

A squyer that launcelot to court hadde sente
Off the tythandys gonne he lythe ;
To the foreste is he wente
And tolde launcelot Also swythe, v
how lordynges that were Riche of rente
Fele goode had loste hyr lyffe,
Gaheryet and gaheries sought here ende;
Bot than was launcelot no-thynge blythe ;

"Lord," he said, " what may thys bene?
Ihesu cryste ! what may I sayne ?
The loue that hathe be-twexte vs bene,
That euyr gaheryet me was A-gayne !
Now I wote for All by-dene,
A sorye man Is syr gawayne ;
A-cordement thar me nevyr wene,
Tille eyther of vs haue other slayne."

launcelot gonne with hysse folke forthe wende,
With sory hert and drery mode ;
To quenys and countesses fele he sende
And grete ladyes of gentill blode.
That he had ofte here landis deffende
And foughten whan hem nede by-stode.
Ichone her power hym lende,
And made hys party stiffe and goode.

quenys and countesses that Ryche were
Sende hym erlys with grete meyne ;
Other ladies that myght no more
Sente hym barons or knyghtis free ;
So mykelle folke to hym gon fare,
Hydous it was hys oste to see ;
To the loyus gard wente he thare
And helde hym in that stronge Cyte.

Launcelotis herte was full sore
For the lady fayre and bryght ;
A damosselle he dyd be yare,
In Ryche Apparayle was she dyght,
Hastely in message for to fare
To the kynge of mykelle myght,
To prove it fals (what myght he mare ?)
Bot proferys hym there-fore to fyght.