Lines 2399–2876

now are they shippid on the see
And wendyn ouyr the water wyde ;
Off benwyke whan they myght se,
Withe grete Route they gonne vp Ryde ;
with-stode hem neyther stone ne tre,
Bot brente and slow on Iche A syde ;
launcelot is in hys beste Cyte,
There he batelle wolle A-byde.

launcelot clepis hys knyghtis kene,
His erlys And hys barons bolde,
Bad hem ordeyne hem by-twene,
To wete her wylle, what they wolde,
To Ryde A-jeyne hem All by dene
Or ther worthe walles holde ;
For well they wiste, with-outen wene,
For no fantyse Arthur nold folde.

Bors de gawnes, the noble knyght,
stornnely spekys in that stounde :
"Doughty men that ye be dyghte,
Foundis your worship for to fownd,
Withe spere and shelde and armes bryght
A-jeyne your fo-men for to fownd ;
Kynge and duke, erle and knyght,
We shall hem bete And brynge to grounde."

Lyonelle spekys in that tyde,
That was of warre wyse And bolde :
"Lordyngis, yet I rede we byde
And oure worthy walles holde ;
Let them pryke with All ther pryde
Tylle they haue Caught bothe hungre and colde ;
Than shall we oute vppon them Kyde
And shredde them downe as shepe in folde."

Syr banndemagew, that bolde kynge,
To launcelot spekys in that tyde :
" Syr, cortessye And your sufferynge
Has wakend vs wo full wyde ;
Awise you welle vppon thys thynge :
Yiff that they ouer oure landys Ryde,
All to noght they myght vs brynge,
Whyle we in holys here vs hyde."

Galyhud, that Ay was goode,
To launcelot he spekys thare :
"Syr, here ar knyghtis of kynges blode
That longe wylle not droupe And dare ;
Gyffe me leue, for crosse on Rode,
Withe my men to them to fare ;
Thoughe they be wers than outlawes wode,
I shall them sle and make full bare."

Off northe gales were bretherne seuen,
Ferly mekelle of strenghe and pryde ;
Not full fele that men coude neuyne
Better dorste in bataile byde ;
All they sayd with one steuen :
" Lordyngis, how longe wolle ye chyde ?
Launcelot, for goddys loue in heuen,
With galehud forthe lette vs Ryde."

Than spake the lorde that was so hende,
Hym-Self, syr launcelot de lake :
"Lordyngis, A whyle I rede we lende
And oure worthy wallys wake ;
A message wille I to them sende,
A trews be-twene vs for to take ;
my lorde is so corteise and hende
That yit I hope A pees to make ;

Thoughe we myght the worshyppe wynne,
Off A thynge myn hert is sore :
Thys land is of folke full thynne,
Bataylles has it made full bare ;
Wete ye welle it were grete synne
Crysten folke to sle thus more ;
Withe myldenesse we shall be-gynne
And god shall wische vs wele to fare."

And at thys Assent All they ware,
And Sette A wacche for to wake
knyghtis breme as Any bare
And" derfe of drede as is the drake ;
A Damyselle thay dede be are
And hastely gon her lettres make ;
A mayde sholde on the message fare
A trews by-twene them for to take.

The mayde was full shene to shewe,
Vppon her stede whan she was setto,
Hyr paraylle All of one hewe,
Off A grene weluette,
In hyr hand A braunche newe,
For-why that no man sholde her lette ;
Ther-by men messangerys knewe
In ostes whan that men them mette.

The kynge was lokyd in A felde
By A ryuer brode And dreghe ;
A while she houyd And by-helde ;
Pavylons were pyghte on hyghe ;
She saughe there many comly telde
Wythe pomelles bryghte as goldis beghe ;
On one hynge the kyngis shelde,
That pauylon she drew hyr nyghe.

The kynges baner oute was sette,
That pauylon she drewe her nere ;
With A knyght full sone she mette,
hyght Syr lucan de bottelere ;
She hailsed hym and he her grette,
The mayde with full mylde chère ;
hyr erande was not for to lette,
he wiste she was A messengere.

Sir lucan downe gan hyr take
And in hys Armes forthe gan lede ;
hendely to her he spake.
As knyght that wise was vndyr wede
"Thou comeste from launcelot de lake,
The beste that euyr strode on stede ;
Ihesu, for hys modyris sake,
Yiffe the grace wele to spede ! "

Feyre was pight vppon a playne
The paviloun in Ryche A-parayle ;
The kynge hym-selfe and syr gawayne
Comely sytten in the halle ;
The mayde knelyd the kynge A-gayne,
So lowe to grounde gan she falle ;
here lettres were not for to layne,
They were I-rade A-monge hem All.

hendly and feyre the mayden spake,
Full fayne of speche she wold be sped :
"Syr, god yow saue from wo And wrake
And All your knyghtis in Ryche wede ;
Yow gretis wele, syr launcelot du lake,
That with yow hathe bene euyr at nede ;
A xii monthe trewse he wolde take
To lyue vppon hys owne lede.

And sythen, yiffe ye make an heste,
he wille it holde with hys honde,
By-twene you for to make pees
Stabully euer for to stonde ;
He wolle Rape hym on A Resse
Myldely to the holy londe,
There to lyue, with-outen lese,
Whyle he is man lyvande."

The kynge than clepid hys counsayle,
Hys douty knyghtis All by-dene ;
Fyrste he sayde, with-outen fayle :
" me thynke it were beste to sene ;
he were A fole, with-outen fayle.
So feyr forwardys for to fleme."
The kynge the messyngere thus did assayle :
' It were pite to sette warre vs by-twene."

"Sertis, nay," sayd syr gawayne,
" he bathe wrogt me wo I-noughe,
So traytourly he hatha my bredren slayne,
All for your loue, sir, that is treuthe,
To yngland will I not torne A-gayne
Tylle he be hangid on a boughe ;
Whyle me lastethe myght or mayne,
There-to I shall fynd peple I-noghe."

The kynge hym-self, with-outen lese,
And Iche A lord, is nought to layne,
All they spake to haue pese,
But hym-self, syr gawayne,
To batayle bathe he made hys best
Or ellys neuer to torne A-gayne.
They made hem Redy to that Eese,
There-fore was fele folke vnfayne.

The kynge is comyn in-to the halle
And in hys Royall see hym sette ;
He made A knyght the mayden calle,
Syr lucane de botteler, with-outen lette':
"Say to launcelot and hys knyghtis All,
suche an heste I haue hym hette,
That we shall wend for no walle
Tyll we with myghtis onys haue mette."

The mayde had hyr Answere,
Withe drery hert she gan hyr dyght ;
hyr feyr palfrey fande she yare,
And Syr lucan ledde hyr thedyr Ryght ;
So throw A foreste gan she fare
And basted her with All hyr myght,
There launcelot and hys knyghtis were.
In benwyk the browgh with bemys bryght.

Now is she went with-in the walle,
The worthy damysselle fayre in wede ;
Hendely she Cam in-to that halle,
A knyght hyr toke downe of hyre stede ;
A-monge the pryncis proude in palle
She toke hyr lettres for to Rede ;
There was no counsayle for to calle,
But Redely buskis them to that dede ;

As folkys that preste were to feight,
Frome feld wold they neuyr fle ;
But by the morow that daye was lyght
A-boute by-segyd was All there Fee ;
ychone theym Rayed in All Ryghtis ;
novther party thought to Hee.

Erly as the day gan sprynge,
The trompettis vppon the wallis went ;
There myght they se a wondyr thynge,
Off teldys Ryche and many A tente.
"Syr arthur than, the comely kynge,
with hys folkis ther was lente,
To yeff Assaute, with-oute lesyng,
with Alblasters and bowes bente.

Launcelot All for-wondred was
Off the folke by-fore the walle ;
But he had rather knowen that rease,
Oute had ronne hys knyghtis All ;
he sayd : " pryncis, bethe in pease,
For folyse fele that myght by-falle ;
yiff thay will not ther sege sease,
Full sore I hope for-thynke hem shall."

Than gawayne, that was good at euery nede,
Graythid hym in his gode Armonr,
And styffly sterte vppon A stede
That syker was in ylke A stoure ;
Forthe he sprange as sparke on glede,
By-fore the yates a-gayne the toure ;
he bad A knyght come kythe mayne,
A courd of werre for hys honoure.

Bors de gawnes buskys hym bowne
Vpon A stede that shuld hym here,
With helme, sheld, And hauberke browne,
And in hys hand A Full good spere ;
Owte he Rode A grete Randowne ;
Gawayn kyd he covde of werre ;
hors and man bothe bare he downe,
Suche A dynte he yaffe hym there.

Syr lyonelle was All redy than
And for hys broder was wonder woo ;
Redely with hys stede oute Ranne
And wende gawayne for to sloo.
Gawayn hym kepte as he wele can,
As he that ay was kene and thro ;
Downe he bare bothe hors and man,
And euery day som seruyd he soo.

And so more than halfe a yere,
As longe as they there layne,
Euery day men myght se there
Men woundyd and som slayne,
But how that euer in world it were,
Suche grace had sir gawayne,
Euer he passyd hole and clere ;
There myght no man stand hym Agayne.

Than it by-Felle vponn A tyde,
Syr gawayne, that was hende and free,
He made hym redy for to Ryde
By-fore the gatis of the Cyte ;
Launcelot of treson he be-Cryed '
That he had slayne hys bretherne thre,
That launcelot myjte no lenger A-byde,
But he euer A cowarde scholde be

The lord that grete was of honoure,
Hym-selffe, sir launcelot du lake,
A-bove the gatis vppon the toure
Comely to the kynge he spake :
" My lord, god saue youre honoure !
Me ys wo now for yowre sake,
A-gaynste thy kynne to stonde in stoure,
But nedys I muste thys batayle take."

Launcelot armyd hym full wele,
For sothe had Full grete nede,
Helme, hawberke and All of stele
And stifely sterte vppon A stede ;
Hys harneyse lacked he neuer A dele,
To were wantyd hym no wede.
No wepyn with All to dele ;
for-the he sprange as sparke on glede.

Than was it warnyd faste on hye
How in world that it shuld fare,
That no man schold come hem nye
Tylle the tone dede or yolden were.
Folke with-drew them than bye,
Vpon the feld was brode and bare ;
The knyghtis mette, As men it sye,
how they sette there dyntis sare.

Than had syr gawayne suche a grace,
An holy man had boddyn that bone,
Whan he were in Any place.
There he shuld batayle done,
Hys strength shulld wex in suche A space,
From the vndyr-tyme tylle none,
And launcelot for-bare ay for that case ;
A-gayne xx stokys he yaff not one :

Launcelot saw ther was no socoure,
nedysse muste he hys venture Abyde ;
many A dynt he gan wele in-dure
Tylle it drew nere the noon tyde ;
Than he straught in that stoure
And yaffe gawayne A wond wyde;
The blode All coueryd hys coloure
And he felle downe vpon hys syde.

Throw the helme in-to the bede
Was hardy gawayne woundyd so
That vnneth was hym lyfe leuyd ;
On fote myght ho no ferther goo ;
But wightly hys swerd A-bowte he wavyd,
For euer he was bothe kene and thro,
launcelot than hym lyAnd levyd ;
For All the world he nold hym slo.

launcelot than hym drew on dryhe ;
hys swerd was in hys hand drawen ;
And syr gawayne cryed lowde on hye :
' Traytour And coward, come A-gayne,
Whan I Am hole And goynge on hye ;
Than wylle I prove with myght and mayne.
And yit A thow woldyst nyghe me nye,
Thow shalt wele wete I am not slayn."

"Gawayne, while thow myghtis styfflye stonde,
many A stroke to-day of the I stode,
And I for-bare the in euery londe
For love and for the kyngis blode ;
Whan thou arte hole in herte and hond,
I rede the torne and chaunge thy mode ;
Whyle I am launcelot and man levande,
Gode sheld me frome werkys wode !

But have good day, my lord the kynge,
And your doughty knyghtis Alle;
Wendyth home A leue youre werryeng ;
ye Wynne no worshyp at thys walle ;
And I wold my knyghtis oute brynge,
I wote full sore rewe it ye shalle ;
My lord, there-fore, thynke on suche thynge,
how fele folke there-fore myght falle."

launcelot, that was moche of mayne,
Boldely to hys Cyte wente ;
Hys good knytis there-of were fayne
And hendely hym in armys hente.
The tother party tho toke syr gawayne,
They wessche hys woundys in hys tente;
Or euer he coueryd myght or mayne,
vnnethe was hym the lyffe lente.

A fortenyght, the sothe to saye.
Full passynge seke and vn-sonde
There syr Gawayne on lechynge laye,
Or he were hole All of hys wounde.
Than it by-felle vppon A day,
he made hym Redy for to wound ;
By-fore the yat he toke the way
And Askyd batayle in that stownd :

" Come forthe, launcelot, and prove thy mayne,
Thou traytour that hast treson wroght ;
my thre brethern thou haste slayne
And falsly theym to grounde brought ;
Whyle me lastethe myght or mayne,
Thys quarell leve wyll I noght,
Ne pees shall ther neuer be sayne
Or thy sydes be throw sought."

Than launcelot thoght it no thyng gode
And for these wordis he was full wo ;
A-bove the gatis than he yode
And to the kynge he sayd so :
' " Syr, me rewys in my mode
That gawayne is in hert so thro.
Who may me wyte, for corsse on Rode,
Thouȝth I hym in bataylle sloo?"

Launcelot buskyd And made hym bowne,
he will boldely the batayle A-byde,
With helme, shelde. And hauberke browne,
None better in All thys worlde wyde,
With spere in hand and gonfanowne,
hys noble swerd by hys syde ;
Oute he Rode A grete randowne,
Whan he was Redy for to Ryde.

Gawayne grypes a full good spere
And in he glydes glad and gay ;
Launcelot kydde he coude of were
And euyn to hym he takys the way ;
So stoutely they gan to-geder here
That marvayle it was, sothe to say ;
With dyntis sore ganne they dere
And depe wondys daltyn thay.

Whan it was nyghed nere-hand none,
Gawayne strengthe gan to in-crese ;
So bitterly he hewyd hym vppon
That launcelot All for-wery was ;
Than to hys swerd he grypes A-none,
And sethe that gawayne wyll not sese,
Suche A dynte he yaffe hym one
That many a Ryche Rewed that resse.

launcelot sterte forthe in that stownde,
And sethe that gawayne will no sease,
The helme that was Ryche and Rownde
The noble swerde rove that rease ;
he hyt hym A-pon the olde wounde
That ouer the sadyll downe he wente
And grysely gronyd vpon the ground,
And there was good gawayne shent.

yit gawayne swounynge there as he lay
Gryped to hym bothe swerde And sheld ;
' launcelot," he sayd, ' sothely to saye,
And by hym that All thys world shall welde,
Whyle me lastethe lyffe to-daye,
To the me shall I neuer yeld ;
But do the werste that euyr thou may,
I schall defend me in the felde."

Launcelot than full styll stoode,
As man that was moche of myght :
" Gawayne, me rewes in my mode,
Men hald the so noble A knyght.
Wenystow I were so wode
Agaynste A feble man to fyght?
I wyll not now, by crosse on Kode,
Nor neuer yit dyd by day nor nyght.

But haue good day, my lord the kynge,
And All youre douty knyghtis by-dene,
Wendyth home and leue your werrynge,
For here ye shall no worshyppe wynne.
yif I wolde my knyghtis oute brynge,
I hope full sone it shuld be sene,
but, good lord, thynke vppon A thynge.
The loue that hathe be vs by-twene."

After was it monthes two,
As frely folke it vndyr-stode.
Or euer gawayne myght Ryde or go
Or had fote vpon erthe to stonde.
The iij tyme he was full thro
To do batayle with herte and hande,
But than was word comen hem to
That they muste home to yngland.

Suche mesage was hem brought.
There was no man that thought it goode ;
The kynge hym-selfe full sone it thought
(Full moche mornyd he in hys mode
That suche treson in ynglond shuld be wroght)
That he moste nedys ouer the flode.
They brake sege and homward sought,
And After they had moche Angry mode.

That fals traytour, sir mordreid —
The kynges soster sone he was,
And eke hys owne sonne. As I rede, —
There-fore men hym for steward chase —
So falsely hathe he yngland ledde,
Wete yow wele, with-outen lese,
Hys Eme-is wyffe wolde he wedde,
That many A man rewyd that rease.

Festys made he, many and fele,
And grete yif tys he yafe Also ;
They sayd with hym was loye and wele
And in Arthurs tyme but sorow and woo ;
And thus gan Ryght to wronge goo ;
All the concelle, is noght to hele,
Thus it was, with-outen moo.
To hold mordred in londe with wele.

False lettres he made be wroght,
And causyd messangers hem to brynge,
That Arthur was to grownde broght,
And chese they muste A-nother kynge.
All thay sayd as hem thought :
"Arthur louyd noght but warynge
And suche thynge as hym-selfe soght.
Ryght so he toke hys endynge."

mordred let crye A parlement ;
The peple gan thedyr to come,
And holly throwe there assente
They made mordred kynge with crowne ;
At canturbery, ferre in kente,
A Fourtenyght held the feste in towne,
And after that to Wynchester he wente ;
A Ryche brydale he lette make bowne ;

In somyr, whan it was fayr and bryght,
Hys faders wyfe than wold he wedde
And hyr hold with mayne and myght.
And so hyr brynge as byrd to bedde.
Sche prayd hym of leue A fourtenyght —
The lady was full hard be-stad —
So to london sche hyr dyght,
That she and hyr maydens myght be cledd.

The quene, whyte as lyly floure,
With knyghtis fele of her kynne,
She went to london to the towre
And speryd the gates And dwellyd therin.
Mordred changed than hys coloure,
Thedyr he went and wold not blynne ;
There-to he made many A shoure,
But the wallys myght he neuer wynne.

The Archebysshop of canterbery thedyr yode,
And hys crosse by-fore hym broght.
he sayd : " syr, for cryste on Kode,
What haue ye now All in your thoght ?
Thy faders wyffe, whether thou be wood,
To wedd her now mayste thou noght
Come Arthur euyr ouer the flood,
Thow mayste be bold; it wyll be boght."