Lines 2877–3360

"A nyse clerke," than mordred sayd,
"Trowiste thow to warne me of my wille?
be hym that for vs suffred payne.
These wordys shalt thou lyke full ylle !
with wilde hors thou shalt be drayne
And hangyd hye vpon An hylle."
The bischoppe to fle than was fayne
And suffred hym hys folyes to fulfylle ;

Than he hym cursyd with boke And belle,
At caunterbery, ferre in kente.
Sone, whan mordred herd ther-of telle,
To seche the bisshope hathe be sent ;
The bysshop durste no lenger dwelle
But gold And syluer he hathe hent ;
There was no lenger for to spelle.
But to A wyldernesse he is went ;

The worldys wele ther he wyll for-sake.
Off loye kepeth he neuer more,
But A chapelle he lette make
By-twene two hye holtys hore ;
There-in weryd he the clothys blake,
In wode as he an ermyte ware ;
Often gan he wepe and wake
For yngland that had suche sorowis sare.

Mordred had than lyen full longe,
But the towre myght he neuer wynne,
With strength ne with stoure stronge,
ne with none other kynnes gynne;
Hys fader dred he euyr A-monge,
There-fore hys bale he nylle not blynne;
He went to warne hem, All with wronge,
The kyngdome that he was crownyd inne.

Forthe to dover þan gan he Ryde,
All the costys wele he kende ;
To erlys And to barons on ylk A syde
Grete yiftis he gaffe And lettres send,
And for-sette the see on ylke A syde
With bold men And bowes bente ;
Fro yngland, that is brode And wyde,
hys owne fader he wold deffend.

Arthur, that was mykelle of myght,
With hys folke come over the flode.
An C galeyse that were welle dyght
With barons bold And hye of blode ;
he wende to haue landyd, as it was Ryght,
At Dower, ther hym thoght full gode,
And ther he fande many An hardy knyght
That styffe in stoure A-gaynste hym stode.

Arthur sone hathe take the land
That hym was leveste in to lende ;
hys fele fomen that he ther found,
he wende by-fore had bene hys frend.
The kynge was wrothe And weliney wode,
And with hys men he gan vp wend ;
So strong A stoure was vpon that stronde
That many A man ther had hys end.

Syr gawayne armyd hym in that stounde;
Allas I to longe hys hede was bare ;
he was seke And sore vnsond ;
hys woundis greuyd hym full sare ;
One hytte hym vpon the olde wounde
With A tronchon of An ore ;
There is goode gawayne gone to grounde,
That speche spake he neuyr more.

Bold men, with bowes bentte,
Boldely vp in botes yode,
And Ryche hauberkis they Ryve and Rente,
that Throw-owte braste the Rede blode ;
Grounden gleyves throw hem wente;
Tho games thoght theym nothynge gode ;
But by that strong stoure was stente,
The stronge stremys Ban All on blode.

Arthur was so moche of myght,
Was ther none that hym with-stode ;
He hewyd vppon ther helmes bryght.
That throw ther brestes Ban the blode ;
By than that endyd was the fight,
The false were feld, som wer fledde
To canterbery All that nyght.
To warne ther master, syr mordred.

Mordred than made hym bowne
And boldely he wylle batayle A-bydo,
With helme, scheld, And hauberke browne ;
So All hys Rowte gan forthe Kyde ;
They hem mette vppon barendowne,
Full erly in the morowe tyde ;
With gley ves grete And gonfanowne
Grymly they gan to-gedyr Ryde;

Arthur was of Ryche A-Raye
And hornys blew lowde on hyght,
And mordred comyth glad and gay,
As traytour that was false in fyght.
Thay faught All that longe day
Tyll the nyght was nyghed nyghe;
Who had it sene wele myght saye
That suche A stoure neuer he syghe.

Arthur than faught with hert good —
A nobler knyght was neuer noon ;
Throw helmes in-to hede yt yoode
And steryd knyghtis bothe blode And bone,
mordred for wrathe was nye wode,
Callyd hys folke And sayd to hem "One !
Releve yow, for crosse on Rode !
Alas ! thys day so sone is goone ! "

Fele men lyeth on bankys bare
With bryght brondys throw-owte borne ;
Many A doughty man dede was thar.
And many A lord hys lyfe hathe lorne ;
mordred was full of sorowe And care ;
At canterbery was he vppon the morne ;
And Arthur All nyght he dwellyd thare,
Hye frely folke lay hym by-forne.

Erely on the morow tyde
Arthur bad hys hornys blowe,
And callyd folke on euery syde,
And many A dede beryed on A rowe,
In pittes that was depe And wyde ;
On Iche An hepe they layd hem lowe,
So All that ouer gone And Ryde
Som by there markys men myght knowe.

Arthur went to hys dyner thane —
hys frely folke hym folowed faste —
But whan he fand syr gawayne
In A shyppe laye dede by A maste,
Or euyr he coveryd myght or mayne,
An C tymes hys hert nyghe braste.

Thay layd syr gawayne vpon A here
And to the castell they hym bare,
And in A chapell A-mydde the quere
That bold baron they beryed thare.
Arthur than changyd All hys chere ;
What wondyr thoghe hys hert was sare!
hys suster sone, that was hym dere,
Off hym shold he here neuyr mare.

Syr Arthur, he wolde no lenger A-byde;
Than had he All maner of euyll Keste ;
He sought aye forthe the southe syde
And toward walys wente he weste ;
At salusbury he thought to byde,
At that tyme he thought was beste,
And calle to hym by Whytesontyde
Barons bold to batayle preste.

Vnto hym came many A doughty knyght,
For wyde in worlde theyse wordys sprange,
That syr Arthur hade All the Ryght,
And mordred warred on hym with wronge.
Hydowse it was to se with syght,
Arthur-is oste was brode And longe
And mordred that was mykell of myght
With grete gyftes made hym stronge.

Sone After the feste of the trynyte
Was A batayle by-twene hem sette,
That A Sterne batayle ther shuld be ;
For no lede wold they it lette ;
And syr Arthur makethe game And glee
For myrth that they shuld be mette ;
And syr mordred cam to the contre,
With fele folke that ferre was fette.

At nyght whan Arthur was brought in bedd —
He shuld haue batayle vppon the morow —
In stronge sweuenys he was by-stedde,
That many A man that day shuld haue sorow ;
hym thowht he satte in gold All gledde,
As he was comely kynge with crowne,
vpon A whele that full wyde spredd,
And All hys knyghtis to hym bowne.

The whele was ferly Ryche And Rownd,
In world was neuyr none halfe so hye ;
There-on he satte Rychely crownyd
With many A besaunte broche And be ;
he lokyd downe vpon the grownd,
A blake water ther vndyr hym he see,
With dragons fele there lay vn-bownde,
That no man durst hem nyghe nyee.

he was wondyr ferd to falle
A-monge the fendys ther that faught ;
The whele ouer-tornyd ther with- All
And eueryche by A lymme hym caught.
The kynge gan lowde crye And calle,
As marred man of wytte vn-saught ;
hys chambyrlayns wakyd hym ther with-All
And woodely oute of hys slepe he raught.

All nyght gan he wake And wepe,
With drery hert And sorowfull stevyn,
And A-gaynste day he felle on slepe ;
A-boute hym was sette tapers sevyn ;
Hym thought Syr gawayne hym dyd kepe
With mo folke þan men can nevyn,
By A Ryuer that was brode And depe ;
All semyd Angellys cam from heuyn.

The kynge was neuyr yit so fayne,
hys soster sone whan that he sye ;
Welcome," he sayd, " syr gawayne ;
And thou myght leue, welle were me.
Now, leue frend, with-outen layne,
What Ar tho folke that folow the ? "
"Sertis, syr," he sayd A-gayne,
"They byde in blysse ther I motte be.

lordys they were And ladyes hende,
Thys worldys lyffe that hanne for-lome ;
Whyle I was man on lyffe to lende,
A-gaynste her fone I faught hem forne ;
now fynde I them my moste Frende :
They blysse the tyme that I was borne :
They Asked leve with me to wende
To mete with yow vpon thys morne.

A monthe day of trewse moste ye take
And than to batayle be ye bayne ;
yow comethe to helpe lancelot du lake.
With many A man mykell of mayne :
To-morne the batayle ye moste for-sake
Or ellys, certis, ye shall be slayne."
The kynge gan woffully wepe and wake,
And sayd : " Allas ! thys Rewffull Rayne ! "

hastely hys clothys on hym he dyde,
And to hys lordys gan he saye :
' In stronge sweyneys I haue bene stad,
That glad I may not for no gamys gaye.
We muste vnto syr mordred sende
And founde to take An-other day,
Or trewly thys day I mon be shende,
Thys know I in bed as I laye.

Goo thow, syr lucan de boteler,
That wyse wordys haste in wolde,
And loke that thou take with the here
Bysshopys fele and barons bolde."
Forthe went they All in fere,
in trew bokys as it is tolde.
To syr mordred and hys lordis there they were,
And an C knyghtis All vn-tolde.

The knyghtis that ware of grete valoure,
By-fore syr mordred as they stode,
They gretyn hym with grete honowre.
As barons bold And hye of blode :
" Ryght wele the gretys kynge Arthur,
And praythe the with mylde mode,
A monethe day to stynte thys stoure.
For hys loue that dyed on Rode."

mordred, that was bothe kene And bolde,
made hym breme As Any bore at bay,
And sware by ludas that Ihesus sold :
" Suche sawes Ar not now to saye ;
That he hathe hyght he shall it hold ;
The tone of vs shall dye thys day ;
And telle hym trewly that I tolde,
I schall hym marre, yife that I may."

"Syr, thay sayd, with-owten lese,
Thow thou And he to batayle bowne,
many A ryclie shall rewe that reasse,
By All by dalte vpon thys downe ;
yit were it better for to sease,
And lette be kynge and here the crowne ;
And after hys dayes, full dredelesse,
ye to welde All yngland, towre And towne."

mordred tho stode stylle A whyle,
And wrothely vp hys eyne there wente,
And sayd : " wyste I it were hys wylle
To yeue me cornwale And kente,
lette vs mete vpon yonder hylle
And talke to-gedyr with gode entente ;
Suche forwardys to full-fylle,
There-to shall I me sone Assent.

And yiffe we may with spechys spede,
With trew trowthes of entayle,
hold the bode-worde that we bede,
To yeue me kente And cornwayle,
Trew loue shall ther lenge And lende ;
And, sertis, forwardys yif we fayle,
Aythur to sterte vppon A stede,
styffely for to do batayle."

Sur, wyll ye come in suche maner,
With xij knyghtis or fourtene,
Or ellys All your strenghe in fere,
With helmes bryght And hauberkys shene ? '
" Sertys, nay," than sayd he thore,
Othur warke thou thare not wene,
But bothe oure hoostis shall nyghe nere,
And we shalle talke them by-twene."

They toke ther leue, with-owten lese,
And wyghtely vpon there way wente ;
To kynge Arthur the way they chese,
there that he satte with-in hys tente.
"Syr, we haue proferyd pease,
Yiffe ye wille ther-to Assente :
Gyffe hym the crowne After your dayes
And in yower lyffe corn way le and kente;

To hys by-heste yiffe ye will holde,
And your trouthe trewly ther-to plyght,
maketh All redy your men bolde,
With helme, swerd. And hauberke bryght;
ye schall mete vppon yone molde
That ayther oste may se with syght ;
And yiff your foreward fayle to bolde,
There is no bote but for to fyght."

But whan Arthur herd thys nevyn,
Trewly ther-to he hathe sworne,
And Arayed hym with batayles seuyn,
With brode baners by-fore hym borne;
They lemyd lyght As Any levyn
Whan they shold mete vpon the morne.
There lyves no man vndyr heuyn
A feyrer syght hath sene by-forne.

But mordred many men had mo ;
So mordred that was mykell of mayne,
he had euyr xij A-gaynste hym two
Off barons bold to batayle bayne.
Arthur And mordred — bothe were thro —
Shuld mete bothe vpon A playne ;
The wyse shuld come to And fro
To make A-cord, the sothe to sayne.

Arthur in hys herte hathe Caste
And to hys lordis gan he saye :
"To yonder traytour haue I no truste
But that he woll vs falselly be-traye.
yiff we may not oure forwardys faste,
And ye se any wepyn drayne,
presythe forthe As princes praste,
That he & All hys hoste be slayne."

mordred, that was kene And thro,
hys frely folke he sayd to-forue :
"I wote that Arthur is full woo
That he hathe thus hys landys lorne ;
With fourtene knyghtis And no mo
shall we mete at yondyr thorne ;
yiff Any treason by-twene vs go,
That brode baners forth be borne."

Arthur with knyghtis fully xiiij.
To that thorne on fote they fonde.
With helme, sheld. And hauberke shene ;
Ryght so they trotted vppon þe grownde.
But As they A-cordyd shulde haue bene,
An Edder glode forth vpon the grownde;
he stange A knyght, that men myght sene
That he was seke And full vn-sownde.

Owte he brayed with a swerd bryght ;
To kylle the Adder had he thoghte ;
Whan Arthur party saw that syght,
Frely they to-gedyr sought ;
There was uo-thynge with-stande theym myght ;
They wend that treson had bene wroghte.
That day dyed many A doughty knyght,
And many A bolde man was broght to noght.

Arthur stert vpon hys stede ;
he saw no thyng hym with-stand myght ;
mordred owte of wytte nere yede,
And wrothely in-to hys sadyll he lyght ;
Off A-corde was no-thyng to bede.
But fewtred sperys and to-geder sprente ;
Full many A doughty man of dede
Some there was leyde vpon the bente.

mordred I-maryd many A man,
And boldely he gan hys batayle abyde ;
So sternely oute hys stede Ranne,
many A rowte he gan throw Ryde ;
Arthur of batayle neuyr blanne
To dele woundys wykke and wyde ;
Fro the morow that it by-ganne
Tylle it was nere the nyghtis tyde,

There was many A spere spente,
And many A thro word they spake ;
many A bronde was bowyd and bente
And many A knyghtis helme they brake ;
Ryche helmes they Roffe and rente;
The Ryche rowtes gan to-gedyr Rayke,
An C thousand vpon the bente ;
The boldest or evyn was made Ryght meke.

Sythe bretayne owte of troy was sought
And made in bretayne hys owne wonne,
Suche wondrys neuyr ere was wroght,
Neuyr yit vnder the sonne ;
By evyn leuyd was there noght
That euyr steryd with blode or bone
But Arthur and ij that he thedyr broghte,
And mordred was levyd there Alone.

The tone was lucan de botelere,
That bled at many A bale-full wound,
And hys brodyr, syr bedwere,
Was sely seke and sore vnsounde.
Than spake Arthur these wordys there :
"Shall we not brynge thys theffe to ground?"
A spere he gryped with fell chère,
And felly they gan to-gedyr found.

he hytte mordred amydde the breste
And oute At the bakke bone hym bare ;
There hathe mordred hys lyffe loste,
That speche spake he neuyr mare ;
But kenely vp hys Arme he caste
And yaff Arthur A wound sare,
In-to the hede throw the helme And creste,
That iij tymes he swownyd thare.

Syr lucan And syr Bedwere
By-twene theym two the kynge vp-held ;
So forthe went tho iij in fere.
And All were slayne that lay in feld.
The doughty kynge that was hem dere,
For sore myght not hym-self weld ;
To A chapelle they went in fere —
Off bote they saw no better held.

All nyght thay in the chapelle laye,
Be the see syde, As I yow newyn,
To mary mercy cryand aye,
With drery herte and sorowfull stevyn ;
And to hyr leue sonne gan they pray :
" Ihesu, for thy namys sevyn,
Wis hys sowle the Ryght way,
That he lese not the blysse of heuyn."

As syr lucan de boteler stode,
he sey folk vppon playires hye ;
Bold barons of bone and blode.
They Refte theym besaunt, broche, and bee ;
And to the kynge Agayne thay yode,
Hym to warne with wordys slee ;

To the kynge spake he full styll,
Rewffully as he myght than Rowne :
" Sir, I haue bene At yone hylle.
There fele folke drawen to the downe ;
I note whedyr they wyll vs good or ylle,
I rede we buske And make vs bowne,
yiff it be your worthy wylle,
That we wende to som towne."

" Now, syr lucan, As thow Radde,
lyfte me vp, whyle that I may laste."
Bothe hys Armes on hym he sprad
With All hys strengh to hold hym faste.
The kynge was wondyd and for-bled
And swownyng on hym hys eyne he caste ;
Syr lucan was hard by-stadde ;
He held the kynge to hys owne herte braste.

Whan the kynge had swounyd there.
By an Auter vp he stode ;
Syr lucan, that was hym dere,
Lay dede and fomyd in the blode.
Hys bold brothyr, Sir Bedwere,
Full mykell mornyd in hys mode ;
For sorow he myjte not nyghe hym nere,
But euyr wepyd As he were wode.

The kynge tomyd hym there he stode,
To syr Bedwere with wordys kene :
"Have Excalaber, my swerde good ;
A better brond was neuyr sene ;
Go, Caste it in the salt flode
And thou shalt se wonder, as I wene.
hye the faste, for crosse on Rode,
And telle me what thou haste ther sene."

The knyght was both hende and free,
To save that swerd he was full glad,
And thought ' whethyr I better bee,
yif neuyr man it After had ;
And I it caste in-to the see.
Off mold was neuyr man so mad."
The swerd he hyd vndyr A tree,
And sayd : " syr, I ded as ye me bad."

"What saw thow there ? " than sayd the kynge,
" Telle me now, yif thow can."
' Sertes, syr," he sayd, " nothynge
But watres depe And wawes wanne."
" A ! now thou haste broke my byddynge !
Why haste thou do so, thow false man ?
A-nother bode thou muste me brynge."
Thanne careffully the knyght forthe Ranne

And thought the swerd yit he wold hyde,
And keste the scauberke in the flode.
" yif Any Aventurs shall be-tyde,
There-by shall I se tokenys good."
In-to the see he lette the scauberke glyde ;
A whyle on the land bee there stode,
Than to the kynge he wente that tyde,
And sayd : " syr, it is done, by the Rode."

" Saw thou Any wondres more ? "
" Sertys, syr, I saw nought."
" A I false traytor," he sayd there,
" Twyse thou haste me treson wroght ;
That shall thou rew sely sore ;
And, be thou bold, it shal be bought."
The knyght than cryed : " lord, thyn ore ! "
And to the swerd sone he sought.

Syr bedwere saw that bote was beste,
And to the good swerd he wente ;-
In-to the see he hyt keste ;
Than myght he se what that it mente.
There cam An hand with-outen Keste
Oute of the water And feyre it hente,
And brandysshyd As it shuld braste,
And sythe, as gleme, A-way it glente.