Lines 1513–2016

That warn i yow now or ye wende,
Luke ye cum by the twelmoth ende.
Dame, he said, i sal noght let,
To hald the day that thou has set,
And, if i might be at my wyll,
Ful oft ar sold i cum ye till ;
Bot, madame, this understandes,
A man that passes divers landes
May sumtyme cume in grete destres,
In preson, or els in sekenes,
Tharfore i pray yow or i ga,
That ye wil out-tak thir twa.
The lady sayd, This grant i wele,
Als ye ask, everilka dele,
And i sal lene to yow my ring,
That es to me a ful der thing,
In nane anger ' sal ye be,
Whils ye it have and thinkes on me
I sal tel to yow onane
The vertu that es in the stane :
It es, na preson yow sal halde,
Al if yowr fase be many falde ;
With sekenes sal ye noght be tane ;
Ne of yowr blode ye sal lese nane ;
In batel tane sal ye noght be,
Whils ye it have and thinkes on me ;
And ay, whils ye er trew of love,
Over al sal ye be above ;
I wald never for nakyn wight,
Lene it ar unto na knyght,
For grete luf i it yow take,
Yemes it wele now for my sake.
Sir Ywayne said, Dame, gramercy.
Than he gert ordain in hy
Armurs, and al other gere,
Stalworth stedes, both sheld and sper,
And also squyer, knave, and swayne :
Ful glad and blith was sir Gawayne.
No lenger wald syr Ywayne byde,
On his stede sone gan he stride ;
And thus he has his leve tane,
For him murned many ane.
The lady toke leve of the kyng,
And of his menye aid and ying ;
Hir lord sir Ywayne sho bisekes,
With terys trikland on hir chekes,
On al wise that he noght let
To halde the day that he had set.
The knightes thus thair ways er went,
To justing and to turnament ;
Ful dughtily did sir Ywayne,
And also did sir Gawayne ;
Thai war ful doghty both in fer,
Thai wan the prise both fer and ner.
The kyng that time at Cester lay,
The knightes went tham for to play,
Ful really thai rade obout,
Al that twelmoth out and out,
To justing and to turnament,
Thai wan grete wirships als thai went.
Sir Ywayne oft had al the lose,
Of him the word ful wide gose ;
Of thair dedes was grete renown
To and fra in towre and towne.
On this wise in this life thai last
Unto saint Johns day was past ;
Than hastily thai hied home,
And sone unto the kyng thai come ;
And thar thai held grete mangeri,
The kyng with al his cumpany.
Sir Ywayne umbithought him than
He had forgeten his leman;
Broken i have hir cumandment
Series, he said, now be i shent ;
The terme es past that sho me set,
How ever sal this bale be bet ?
Unnethes he might him hald fra wepe,
And right in this than toke he kepe.
Into court come a damysele,
On a palfray ambland wele,
And egerly down gan sho lyght,
Withouten help of knave or knyght,
And sone sho lete hyr mantel fall,
And hasted hir fast into hall ;
Sir kyng, sho sayd, god mot the se,
My lady gretes the wele by me,
And also, sir, gude Gawayne,
And al thi knyghtes, hot sir Ywayne,
He es ateyned for traytur,
And fals and lither losenjoure :
He has bytrayed my lady,
Bot sho es war with his gilry ;
Sho hopid noght, the soth to say,
That he wald so have stollen oway ;
He made to hir ful mekyl boste,
And said of al he lufed hir moste ;
Al was treson and trechery,
And that he sal ful der haby.
It es ful mekyl ogains the right
To cal so fals a man a knight.
My lady wend he had hir hert,
Ay forto kepe and hald in quert ;
Bot now with grefe he has hir gret,
And broken the term that sho him set,
That was the evyn of saynt John,
Now es that tyme for ever gone ;
So lang gaf sho him respite,
And thus he haves hir led with lite ;
Sertainly so fals a fode,
Was never cumen of kynges blode,
That so sone forgat his wyfe,
That lofed him better than hyr life.
Til Ywayn sais sho, Thus thou es
Traytur untrew, and trowthles,
And also an unkind cumlyng ;
Deliver me my lady ring.
Sho stirt to him, with sterne loke,
The ring fro his finger sho toke,
And, alsone als sho had the ring,
Hir leve toke sho of the king,
And stirted up on hir palfray,
With-owten more sho went hir way ;
With hir was nowther knave ne grome,
Ne no man wist wher sho bycome.
Sir Ywayn, when he this gan her,
Murned, and made simpil cher,
In sorow than so was he stad,
That nere for murnyng wex he mad,
It was no mirth that him myght mend,
At worth to noght ful wele he wend,
For wa he es ful wil of wane :
" Alias ! i am myne owin bane."
Alias, he sayd, that i was born !
Have i my leman thus forlorn
And al es for myne owen foly,
Alias ! this dole wil mak me dy.
An evyl toke him als he stode,
Far wa he wex al wilde and wode ;
Unto the wod the way he nome,
No man wist whor he bycome.
Obout he welk in the forest,
Als it wore a wilde beste,
His men on ilka syde has soght,
Fer and ner, and findes him noght.
On a day, als Ywayne ran
In the wod, he met a man,
Arowes brade and bow had he,
And when sir Ywaine gan him se,
To him he stirt, with birful grim,
His bow and arwes reft he him,
Ilka day than at the leste,
Shot he him a wilde beste ;
Fless he wan him, ful gude wane,
And of his arows lost he nane.
Thare he lifed a grete sesowne,
With rotes, and raw venysowne,
He drank of the warm blode,
And that did him mekil gode.
Als he went in that boskage,
He fand a letil ermytage ;
The ermyte saw, and sone was war
A naked man a bow bar,
He hoped he was wode that tide,
Tharfor no lenger durst he bide ;
He sperd his yate, and in he ran,
For fered of that wode man ;
And, for him thoght it charite,
Out of his window set he
Brede and water for the wode man,
And tharto ful sone he ran.
Swilk als he him swilk he him gaf,
Barly brede with al the chaf ;
Tharof ete he ful gude wane,
And are swilk ete he never nane.
Of the water he drank thar-with,
Than ran he forth into the frith.
For, if a man be never so wode,
He wil kum whare man dose him gode ;
And sertanly so did Ywayne,
Everilka day he come ogayne,
And with him broght he redy boun
Ilka day new venisowne,
He laid it at the ermite yate,
And etc, and drank, and went his gate.
Ever, al sone als he was gane,
The ermyt toke the flesh onane,
He flogh it, and seth it fayr and wele,
Than had Ywayne, at ilka mele,
Brede and sothen venysowne.
Than went the ermyte to the towne,
And salde the skinnes that he broght,
And better brede tharwith he boght.
Than fand sir Ywayne in that stede
Venyson and better brede.
This life led he ful fele yer,
And sethen he wroght als ye sal her.
Als Ywaine sleped under a tre
By him come thar rideand thre,
A lady, twa bour-wemen alswa,
Than spak ane of the maidens twa,
A naked [man] me think i se,
Wit i wil what it may be.
Sho lighted doun, and to him yede,
And unto him sho toke gude hede ;
Hir thoght wele sho had him sene
In many stedes whar sho had bene ;
Sho was astonayd in that stownde,
For in hys face sho saw a wonde,
Bot it was heled and hale of hew,
Tharby hir thoght that sho him knew.
Sho sayd, By god, that me has made ;
Swilk a wound sir Ywayne hade,
Sertaynly this ilk es he :
Alias, sho sayd, how may this be ?
Alias, that him es thus bityd !
So nobil a knyght als he was kyd !
It es grete sorow that he sold be
So ugly now opon to se.
So tenderly for him sho gret,
That hir teres al hir chekes wet.
Madame, sho said, for sertayn,
Her have we funden sir Ywayne,
The best knyght that on grund mai ga,
Alias, him es bytid so wa !
In sum sorow was he stad,
And tharfore es he waxen mad ;
Sorow wil meng a mans blode,
And make him forto wax wode.
Madame, and he war now in quert.
And al hale of will and hert,
Ogayns yowr fa he wald yow wer,
That has yow done so mekyl der ;
And he war hale, so god me mend,
Yowr sorow war sone broght to end.
The lady said, And this ilk be he,
And than ' he wil noght hethin fle,
Thorgh goddes help, than hope i yit
We sal him win ynto his wyt ;
Swith at hame i wald we wer,
For thar i have an unement der,
Morgan the wise gaf it to me,
And said, als i sal tel to the ;
He sayd, This unement es so gode,
That, if a man be brayn-wode,
And he war anes anoynt with yt,
Smertly sold he have his wit.
Fro hame thai wer bot half a myle,
Theder come thai in a whyle ;
The lady sone the boyst has soght,
And the unement has sho broght.
Have, sho said, this unement her,
Unto me it es ful dere ;
And smertly that thou wend ogayne,
Bot luke thou spend it noght in vaine ;
And, fra the knyght anoynted be,
That thou leves bring it to me.
Hastily that maiden meke
Tok hose, and shose, and serk, and breke ;
A riche robe als gan sho ta,
And a saint of silk alswa,
And also a gude palfray,
And smertly come sho whar he lay.
On slepe fast yit sho him fande,
Hir hors until a tre sho band,
And hastily to him sho yede,
And that was a ful hardy dede ;
Sho enoynt his heved wele,
And his body ilka dele.
Sho despended al ye unement,
Over hir ladies cumandment ;
For hir lady wald sho noght let,
Hir thoght that it was ful wele set.
Al his atyre sho left hym by,
At his rising to be redy,
That he might him cleth and dyght,
Or he sold of hyr have syght.
Than he wakend of his slepe,
The maiden to him toke gude kepe, J
He luked up ful farily,
And said, Lady, saynt Mary,
What hard grace to me es maked,
That i am her now thus naked ?
Alias, wher any have her bene,
I trow sum has my sorow sene.
Lang he sat so in a thoght
How that ger was theder broght.
Than had he noght so mekyl myght
On his fete to stand up-right,
Him failed might of fote and hand
That he myght nowther ga ne stand ;
Bot yit his clathes on he wan ;
Tharfor ful wery was he than ;
Than had he mister forto mete
Sum man that myght his bales bete.
Than lepe the maiden on hir palfray,
And nere byside him made hir way ;
Sho lete als sho him noght had sene,
Ne wetyn that he thar had bene.
Sone, when he of hir had syght,
He cried unto hyr, on hight.
Than wald sho no ferrer ride
Bot fast sho luked on ilka syde ;
And waited obout fer and ner,
He cried, and sayd, I am her.
Than sone sho rade him till,
And sayd, Sir, what es thi will.
" Lady, thi help war me ful lefe,
For i am her in grete meschefe ;
I ne wate never by what chance,
That i have al this grevance,
Pur charite, i wald ye pray
For to lene me that palfray,
That in thi hand es redy bowne,
And wis me sone unto som towne.
I wate noght how i had this wa,
Ne how that i sal hethin ga."
Sho answerd him, with wordes hende,
Syr, if thou wil with me wende,
Ful gladly wil i ese the
Until that thou amended be.
Sho helped him opon his hors ryg,
And sone thai come until a bryg,
Into the water the boist sho cast,
And sethin hame sho hied fast.
When thai come to the castel yate,
Thai lighted and went in tharate.
The maiden to the chameber went,
The lady asked the unement.
Madame, sho said, the boyst es lorn,
And so was i nerehand tharforn.
How so, sho said, for goddes tre ?
Madame, sho sayd, i sal tel the
Al the soth how that it was :
Als i over the brig sold pas,
Evyn in myddes, the soth to say,
Thar stombild my palfray ;
On the brig he fell al flat,
And the boyst, right with that,
Fel fra me in the water down,
And had i noght bene titter boun
To tak my palfray bi the mane,
The water sone had bene my bane.
The lady said, Now am i shent,
That i have lorn my gude unement,
It was to me, so god me glade,
The best tresur that ever i hade ;
To me it es ful mekil skath,
Bot better es lose it than yow bath.
Wend, sho said, unto the knight,
And luke thou ese him at thi myght.
Lady, sho said, els war me lathe.
Than sho gert him washe and bathe,
And gaf him mete and drink of main,
Til he had geten his might ogayn.
Thai ordand armurs ful wele dight,
And so thai did stedes ful wight.
So it fell sone on a day,
Whils he in the castel lay,
The ryche eryl, syr Alers,
With knightes, serjantes, and swiers,
And with swith grete vetale,
Come that kastel to asayle.
Sir Ywain than his armurs tase,
With other secure that he hase,
The erel he kepes in the felde,
And sone he hit ane on the shelde,
That the knyght, and als the stede,
Stark ded to the erth thai yede,
Sone another, the thrid, the ferth,
Feld he doun ded on the erth.
He stird him so omang tham than,
At ilka dint he slogh a man,
Sum he losed of hys men,
Bot the eril lost swilk ten ;
Al thai fled fast fra that syde
Whar thai saw sir Ywayn ride,
He herted so his cumpany,
The moste coward was ful hardy,
To fel al that thai fand in in felde.
The lady lay ever and bihelde :
Sho sais, Yon es a noble knyght,
Ful eger and of ful grete myght ;
He es wele worthy forto prayse
That es so doghty and curtayse.
The mayden said, with owten let,
Yowr oynement mai ye think wele set ;
Se, se, madame, how he prikes !
And se, se, also, how fele he strikes!
Lo, how he fars omang his fase !
Al that he hittes sone he slase ;
War thar swilk other twa als he,
Than hope i sone thair fase sold fle ;
Sertes, than sold we se ful tyte,
The eril sold be discumfite.
Madame, god gif his wil wer
To wed yow and be loverd here.
The erils folk went fast to ded,
To fle than was his best rede ;
The eril sone bigan to fle,
And than might men bourd se,
How sir Ywayne and his feres
Folowd tham on fel maners,
And fast thai slogh the erils men,
Olive thai left noght over ten ;
The eril fled ful fast for drede,
And than sir Ywaine strake his stede,
And over-toke him in that tide,
At a kastel thar bysyde ;
Sir Ywayne sone with-set the yate,
That the eril myght noght in tharate.
The eril saw al might noght gain,
He yalde him sone to sir Ywayn,
And sone he has his trowth plyght
To wend with him that ilk night
Unto the lady of grete renowne,
And prefer him to hir presowne,
And to do him in hir grace,
And also to mend his trispase.
The eril than unarmed his hevid,
And none armur on him he levid,
Helm, shelde, and als his brand,
That he bar naked in his hand,
Al he gaf to sir Ywayne,
And hame with him he went ogaine.
In the kastel made thai joy ilkane,
When thai wist the eril was tane,
And whan thai saw tham cumand ner,
Ogayns him went thai al in fere,
And when the lady gan tham mete,
Sir Ywaine gudely gan hir grete :
He said, Madame, have thi presoun,
And hald him her in thi baundoun,
Bot he gert hir grante him grace
To mak amendes yn that space.
On a buke the erl swar
Forto restor bath les and mar,
And big ogayn bath tour and toune,
That by him war casten doune,
And evermar to be hir frende,
Umage made he to that hende ;
To this forward he borows fand,
The best lordes of al that land.
Sir Ywaine wald no lenger lend,
Bot redies him fast forto wend,
At the lady his leve he takes,
Crete murnyng tharfore sho makes :
Sho said, Sir, if it be yowre will,
I pray yow for to dwel her still,
And i wil yelde into yowr handes
Myne awyn body, and al my landes,
Herof fast sho hym bysoght,
Bot al hir speche avayles noght.
He said, I wil no thing to mede,
Bot myne armurs, and my stede.
Sho said, Bath stedes and other thing
Es yowres at yowr owyn likyng ;
And if ye wald her with us dwell
Mekyl mirth war us omell.
It was na bote to bid him bide,
He toke his stede, and on gan stride,
The lady and hyr maydens gent
Wepid far when that he went.
Now rides Ywayn, als ye sal her,
With hevy herte and dreri cher,
Thurgh a forest, by a sty,
And thar he herd a hidose cry,
The gaynest way ful sone he tase,
Til he come whare the noys was,
Than was he war of a dragoun,
Had asayled a wilde lyown,
With his tayl he drogh him fast,
And fir ever on him he cast,
The lyoun had over litel myght
Ogaynes the dragon forto fyght ;
Than sir Ywayn made him bown
For to sucor the lyown,
His shelde bifor his face he fest,
For the fyr that the dragon kest,
He strake the dragon in at the chavyl,
That it come out at the navyl ;
Sunder strake he the throte boll,
That fra the body went the choll ;
By the lioun tail the hevid hang yit,
For tharby had he tane his bit ;
The tail sir Ywayne strake in twa,
The dragon hevid than fel thar-fra.
He thoght, if the lyoun me asayle,
Redy sal he have batayle ;
Bot the lyoun wald noght fyght,
Crete fawnyng made he to the knyght,
Down on the grund he set him oft,
His forther fete he held oloft,
And thanked the knyght als he kowth,
Al if he myght noght speke with mowth :
So wele the lyon of him lete,
Ful law he lay and likked his fete.
When syr Ywayne that sight gan se,
Of the beste him thoght pete ;
And on his wai forth gan he ride,
The lyown folowd by hys syde ;
In the forest al that day,
The lyoun mekely foloud ay,
And never, for wele ne for wa,
Wald he part sir Ywayn fra,