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Be doughty Artours dawes
That helde Engelond yn good lawes,
Ther fell a wondyr cas
Of a ley that was ysette,
That hyght "Launval" and hatte yette.
Now herkeneth how hyt was!
Doughty Artour som whyle
Sojournede yn Kardevyle,
Wyth joye and greet solas,
And knyghtes that wer profitable
Wyth Artour of the Rounde Table -
Never noon better ther nas!
Sere Persevall and Syr Gawayn,
Syr Gyheryes and Syr Agrafrayn,
And Launcelet du Lake;
Syr Kay and Syr Ewayn,
That well couthe fyghte yn playn,
Bateles for to take.
Kyng Banbooght and Kyng Bos
(Of ham ther was a greet los -
Men sawe tho nowher her make),
Syr Galafre and Syr Launfale,
Wherof a noble tale
Among us schall awake.
Wyth Artour ther was a bacheler,
And hadde ybe well many a yer:
Launfal, forsoth he hyght.
He gaf gyftys largelyche,
Gold and sylver and clothes ryche,
To squyer and to knyght.
For hys largesse and hys bounté
The kynges stuward made was he
Ten yer, I you plyght;
Of alle the knyghtes of the Table Rounde,
So large ther nas noon yfounde
Be dayes ne be nyght.
So hyt befyll, yn the tenthe yer
Marlyn was Artours counsalere;
He radde hym forto wende
To Kyng Ryon of Irlond, right,
And fette hym ther a lady bright,
Gwennere, hys doughtyr hende.
So he dede, and hom her brought,
But Syr Launfal lykede her noght,
Ne other knyghtes that wer hende;
For the lady bar los of swych word
That sche hadde lemmannys under her lord,
So fele ther nas noon ende.
They wer ywedded, as I you say,
Upon a Wytsonday,
Before princes of moch pryde.
No man ne may telle yn tale
What folk ther was at that bredale
Of countreys fer and wyde!
No nother man was yn halle ysette
But he wer prelat other baronette
(In herte ys naght to hyde).
Yf they satte noght all ylyke,
Har servyse was good and ryche,
Certeyn yn ech a syde.
And whan the lordes hadde ete yn the halle,
And the clothes wer drawen alle,
As ye mowe her and lythe,
The botelers sentyn wyn
To alle the lordes that wer theryn,
Wyth chere bothe glad and blythe.
The Quene yaf yftes for the nones,
Gold and selver and precyous stonys
Her curtasye to kythe.
Everych knyght sche gaf broche other ryng,
But Syr Launfal sche yaf nothyng -
That grevede hym many a sythe.
And whan the bredale was at ende,
Launfal tok hys leve to wende
At Artour the kyng,
And seyde a lettere was to hym come
That deth hadde hys fadyr ynome -
He most to hys beryynge.
Tho seyde Kyng Artour, that was hende,
"Launfal, yf thou wylt fro me wende,
Tak wyth the greet spendyng,
And my suster sones two -
Bothe they schull wyth the go
At hom the for to bryng."
Launfal tok leve, wythoute fable,
Wyth knightes of the Rounde Table,
And wente forth yn hys journé
Tyl he come to Karlyoun,
To the meyrys hous of the toune,
Hys servaunt that hadde ybe.
The meyr stod, as ye may here,
And sawe hym come ryde up anblere,
Wyth two knightes and other mayné.
Agayns hym he hath wey ynome,
And seyde, "Syr, thou art well come!
How faryth our Kyng? - tel me!"
Launfal answerede and seyde than,
"He faryth as well as any man
Ane elles greet ruthe hyt wore.
But, Syr Meyr, without lesyng,
I am departyd fram the Kyng,
And that rewyth me sore.
Ne ther thar no man, benethe ne above,
For the Kyng Artours love
Onowre me never more.
But, Syr Meyr, I pray the, par amour,
May y take wyth the sojoure?
Som tyme we knewe us, yore."
The Meyr stod and bethoghte hym there
What might be hys answere,
And to hym than gan he sayn,
"Syr, seven knyghtes han her har in ynome
And ever y wayte whan they wyl come,
That arn of Lytyll Bretayne."
Launfal turnede hymself and lowgh,
Therof he hadde scorn inowgh,
And seyde to hys knyghtes tweyne,
"Now may ye se, swych ys service
Under a lord of lytyll pryse! -
How he may therof be fayn!"
Launfal awayward gan to ryde.
The Meyr bad he schuld abyde
And seyde yn thys manere:
"Syr, yn a chamber by my orchardsyde,
Ther may ye dwelle wyth joye and pryde,
Yyf hyt your wyll were."
Launfal anoon ryghtes,
He and hys two knytes,
Sojournede ther yn fere;
So savegelych hys good he besette
That he ward yn greet dette
Ryght yn the ferst yere.
So hyt befell at Pentecost,
Swych tyme as the Holy Gost
Among mankend gan lyght,
That Syr Huwe and Syr Jon
Tok her leve for to gon
At Syr Launfal the knight.
They seyd, "Syr, our robes beth torent,
And your tresour ys all yspent,
And we goth ewyll ydyght."
Thanne seyde Syr Launfal to the knightes fre,
"Tellyth no man of my poverté,
For the love of God Almyght!"
The knyghtes answerede and seyde tho
That they nolde hym wreye never mo,
All thys world to wynne.
Wyth that word they wente hym fro
To Glastyngbery, bothe two,
Ther Kyng Artour was inne.
The kyng sawe the knyghtes hende,
And agens ham he gan wende,
For they wer of hys keene.
Noon other robes they ne hadde
Than they owt wyth ham ladde,
And tho wer totore and thynne.
Than seyde Quene Gwenore, that was fel,
"How faryth the prowde knyght Launfal?
May he hys armes welde?"
"Ye, madame," sayde the knytes than,
"He faryth as well as any man,
And ellys God hyt schelde!"
Moche worchyp and greet honour
To Gwenore the Quene and Kyng Artour
Of Syr Launfal they telde,
And seyde, "He lovede us so
That he wold us evermo
At wyll have yhelde.
But upon a rayny day hyt befel
An huntynge wente Syr Launfel
To chasy yn holtes hore;
In our old robes we yede that day,
And thus we beth ywent away,
As we before hym wore."
Glad was Artour the kyng
That Launfal was yn good lykyng -
The Quene hyt rew well sore,
For sche wold wyth all her myght
That he hadde be bothe day and nyght
In paynys mor and more.
Upon a day of the Trinité
A feste of greet solempnité
In Carlyoun was holde;
Erles and barones of the countré
Ladyes and borjaes of that cité,
Thyder come, bothe yongh and old.
But Launfal, for hys poverté,
Was not bede to that semblé -
Lyte men of hym tolde.
The meyr to the feste was ofsent;
The meyry's doughter to Launfal went
And axede yf he wolde
In halle dyne wyth her that day.
"Damesele," he sayde, "nay!
To dyne have I no herte.
Thre dayes ther ben agon,
Mete ne drynke eet y noon,
And all was for povert.
Today to cherche I wolde have gon,
But me fawtede hosyn and schon,
Clenly brech and scherte;
And for defawte of clothynge,
Ne myghte y yn the peple thrynge.
No wonder though me smerte!
But o thyng, damesele, y pray the:
Sadel and brydel lene thou me
A whyle forto ryde,
That I myghte confortede be
By a launde under thys cyté,
Al yn thys underntyde."
Launfal dyghte hys courser,
Wythoute knave other squyer.
He rood wyth lytyll pryde;
Hys hors slod, and fel yn the fen,
Wherefore hym scornede many men
Abowte hym fer and wyde.
Poverly the knyght to hors gan sprynge.
For to dryve away lokynge,
He rood toward the west.
The wether was hot the underntyde;
He lyghte adoun, and gan abyde
Under a fayr forest.
And, for hete of the wedere,
Hys mantell he feld togydere,
And sette hym doun to reste.
Thus sat the knyght yn symplyté,
In the schadwe under a tre,
Ther that hym lykede beste.
As he sat yn sorow and sore
He sawe come out of holtes hore
Gentyll maydenes two:
Har kerteles wer of Indesandel,
Ylased smalle, jolif, and well -
Ther myght noon gayer go.
Har manteles wer of grene felvet,
Ybordured wyth gold, ryght well ysette,
Ypelured wyth grys and gro.
Har heddys wer dyght well wythalle:
Everych hadde oon a jolyf coronall
Wyth syxty gemmys and mo.
Har faces wer whyt as snow on downe;
Har rode was red, her eyn wer browne.
I sawe nevir non swyche!
That oon bar of gold a basyn,
That other a towayle, whyt and fyn,
Of selk that was good and ryche.
Har kercheves wer well schyre,
Arayd wyth ryche gold wyre.
Launfal began to syche;
They com to hym over the hoth;
He was curteys, and agens hem goth,
And greette hem myldelyche.
"Damesels," he seyde, "God yow se!"
"Syr Knyght," they seyde, "well the be!
Our lady, Dame Tryamour,
Bad thou schuldest com speke wyth here
Yyf hyt wer thy wylle, sere,
Wythoute more sojour."
Launfal hem grauntede curteyslyche,
And went wyth hem myldelyche.
They wheryn whyt as flour.
And when they come in the forest an hygh,
A pavyloun yteld he sygh,
Wyth merthe and mochell honour.
The pavyloun was wrouth, forsothe, ywys,
All of werk of Sarsynys,
The pomelles of crystall;
Upon the toppe an ern ther stod
Of bournede golde, ryche and good,
Ylorysched wyth ryche amall.
Hys eyn wer carbonkeles bryght -
As the mone they schon anyght,
That spreteth out ovyr all.
Alysaundre the conquerour,
Ne Kyng Artour yn hys most honour,
Ne hadde noon scwych juell!
He fond yn the pavyloun
The kynges doughter of Olyroun,
Dame Tryamour that hyghte;
Her fadyr was Kyng of Fayrye,
Of Occient, fer and nyghe,
A man of mochell myghte.
In the pavyloun he fond a bed of prys
Yheled wyth purpur bys,
That semyle was of syghte.
Therinne lay that lady gent
That after Syr Launfal hedde ysent,
That lefsom lemede bryght.
For hete her clothes down sche dede
Almest to her gerdylstede
Than lay sche uncovert.
Sche was as whyt as lylye yn May,
Or snow that sneweth yn wynterys day -
He seygh never non so pert.
The rede rose, whan sche ys newe,
Agens her rode nes naught of hewe, 1
I dar well say, yn sert.
Her here schon as gold wyre;
May no man rede here atyre,
Ne naught wel thenke yn hert.
Sche seyde, "Launfal, my lemman swete,
Al my joye for the y lete,
Swetyng paramour!
Ther nys no man yn Cristenté
That y love so moche as the,
Kyng neyther emperour!"
Launfal beheld that swete wyghth -
All hys love yn her was lyghth, -
And keste that swete flour
And sat adoun her bysyde,
And seyde, "Swetyng, whatso betyde,
I am to thyn honour!"
She seyde, "Syr Knyght, gentyl and hende,
I wot thy stat, ord and ende; 2
Be naught aschamed of me!
Yf thou wylt truly to me take
And alle wemen for me forsake,
Ryche I wyll make the.
I wyll the yeve an alner
Ymad of sylk and of gold cler,
Wyth fayre ymages thre.
As oft thou puttest the hond therinne,
A mark of gold thou schalt wynne
In wat place that thou be.
"Also," sche seyde, "Syr Launfal,
I yeve the Blaunchard, my stede lel,
And Gyfre, my owen knave.
And of my armes oo pensel
Wyth thre ermyns ypeynted well,
Also thou schalt have.
In werre ne yn turnement
Ne schall the greve no knyghtes dent,
So well y schall the save."
Than answerede the gantyl knyght
And seyde, "Gramarcy, my swete wyght!
No bettere kepte y have!"
The damesell gan here up sette,
And bad her maydenes her fette
To hyr hondys watyr clere -
Hyt was ydo wythout lette.
The cloth was spred, the bord was sette,
They wente to hare sopere.
Mete and drynk they hadde afyn,
Pyement, clare, and Reynysch wyn,
And elles greet wondyr hyt wer.
Whan they had sowpeth, and the day was gon,
They wente to bedde, and that anoon,
Launfal and sche yn fere.
For play, lytyll they sclepte that nyght,
Tyll on morn hyt was daylyght.
Sche badd hym aryse anoon;
Hy seyde to hym, "Syr gentyl knyght,
And thou wylt speke wyth me any wyght,
To a derne stede thou gon.
Well privyly I woll come to the
(No man alyve ne schall me se)
As stylle as any ston."
Tho was Launfal glad and blythe,
He cowde no man hys joye kythe
And keste her well good won.
"But of o thyng, Syr Knyght, I warne the,
That thou make no bost of me
For no kennes mede!
And yf thou doost, I warny the before,
All my love thou hast forlore!"
And thus to hym she seyde.
Launfal tok hys leve to wende.
Gyfre kedde that he was hende,
And brought Launfal hys stede;
Launfal lepte ynto the arsoun
And rood hom to Karlyoun
In hys pover wede.
Tho was the knyght yn herte at wylle;
In hys chaunber he hyld hym stylle
All that underntyde.
Than come ther, thorwgh the cité, ten
Well yharneysyth men
Upon ten somers ryde;
Some wyth sylver, some wyth gold -
All to Syr Launfal hyt schold;
To presente hym, wyth pryde,
Wyth ryche clothes and armure bryght,
They axede aftyr Launfal the knyght,
Whar he gan abyde.
The yong men wer clothed yn ynde;
Gyfre, he rood all behynde
Up Blaunchard whyt as flour.
Tho seyde a boy that yn the market stod,
"How fere schall all thys good?
Tell us, par amour!"
Tho seyde Gyfre, "Hyt ys ysent
To Syr Launfal, yn present,
That hath leved yn greet dolour."
Than seyde the boy, "Nys he but a wrecche!
What thar any man of hym recche? 3
At the Meyrys hous he taketh sojour."
At the Merys hous they gon alyghte,
And presented the noble knyghte
Wyth swych good as hym was sent;
And whan the Meyr seygh that rychesse
And Syr Launfales noblenesse,
He held hymself foule yschent.
Tho seyde the Meyr, "Syr, par charyté,
In halle today that thou wylt ete wyth me!
Yesterday y hadde yment
At the feste we wold han be yn same,
And yhadde solas and game,
And erst thou were ywent!"
"Sir Meyr, God foryelde the!
Whyles y was yn my poverté,
Thou bede me never dyne.
Now y have more gold and fe,
That myne frendes han sent me,
Than thou and alle thyne!"
The Meyr for schame away yede.
Launfal yn purpure gan hym schrede,
Ypelured wyth whyt ermyne.
All that Launfal hadde borwyth before,
Gyfre, be tayle and be score,
Yald hyt well and fyne.
Launfal helde ryche festes.
Fyfty fedde povere gestes,
That yn myschef wer.
Fyfty boughte stronge stedes;
Fyfty yaf ryche wedes
To knyghtes and squyere.
Fyfty rewardede relygyons;
Fyfty delyverede povere prysouns,
And made ham quyt and schere;
Fyfty clodede gestours.
To many men he dede honours
In countreys fer and nere.
Alle the lordes of Karlyoun
Lette crye a turnement yn the toun
For love of Syr Launfel,
And for Blaunchard, hys good stede,
To wyte how hym wold spede
That was ymade so well.
And whan the day was ycome
That the justes were yn ynome,
They ryde out also snell.
Trompours gan har bemes blowe.
The lordes ryden out arowe
That were yn that castell.
Ther began the turnement,
And ech knyght leyd on other good dent,
Wyth mases and wyth swerdes bothe.
Me myghte ysé some therfore
Stedes ywonne and some ylore,
And knyghtes wonder wroghth.
Syth the Rounde Table was,
A bettere turnement ther nas,
Y dare well say, forsothe!
Many a lord of Karlyoun
That day were ybore adoun,
Certayn wythouten othe.
Of Karlyoun the ryche constable
Rod to Launfal, wythout fable,
He nolde no lengere abyde.
He smot to Launfal, and he to hym;
Well sterne strokes and well grym
Ther wer yn eche a syde.
Launfal was of hym yware:
Out of hys sadell he hym bar
To grounde that ylke tyde;
And whan the constable was bore adoun,
Gyfre lepte ynto the arsoun
And awey he gan to ryde.
The Erl of Chestere therof segh;
For wrethe yn herte he was wod negh,
And rood to Syr Launfale
And smot him yn the helm on hegh
That the crest adoun flegh -
Thus seyd the Frenssch tale.
Launfal was mochel of myght:
Of hys stede he dede hym lyght,
And bar hym doun yn the dale.
Than come ther Syr Launfal abowte
Of Walssche knyghtes a greet rowte,
The numbre y not how fale.
Than myghte me se scheldes ryve
Speres tobreste and todryve,
Behinde and ek before.
Thorugh Launfal and hys stedes dent
Many a knyght verement
To ground was ybore.
So the prys of that turnay
Was delyvered to Launfal that day,
Wythout oth yswore.
Launfal rod to Karlyoun,
To the meyrys hous of the toun,
And many a lord hym before.
And than the noble knyght Launfal
Held a feste ryche and ryall
That leste fourtenyght.
Erles and barouns fale
Semely wer sette yn sale
And ryaly wer adyght.
And every day Dame Triamour,
Sche com to Syr Launfal bour
Aday whan hyt was nyght.
Of all that ever wer ther tho
Segh her non but they two,
Gyfre and Launfal the knyght.
A knyght ther was yn Lumbardye;
To Syr Launfal hadde he greet envye -
Syr Valentyne he hyghte.
He herde speke of Syr Launfal,
How that he couth justy well
And was a man of mochel myghte.
Syr Valentyne was wonder strong;
Fyftene feet he was longe.
Hym thoughte he brente bryghte
But he myghte wyth Launfal pleye 4
In the feld, betwene ham tweye
To justy other to fyghte.
Syr Valentyne sat yn hys halle;
Hys massengere he let ycalle,
And seyde he moste wende
To Syr Launfal, the noble knyght
That was yholde so mychel of myght.
To Bretayne he wolde hym sende:
"And sey hym, for love of his lemman,
Yf sche be any gantyle woman,
Courteys, fre, other hende,
That he come wyth me to juste,
To kepe his harneys from the ruste,
And elles hys manhod schende."
The messengere ys forth ywent
To do hys lordys commaundement.
He hadde wynde at wylle
Whan he was over the water ycome;
The way to Syr Launfal he hath ynome,
And grette hym wyth wordes stylle,
And seyd, "Syr, my lord Syr Valentyne,
A noble werrour and queynte of gynne,
Hath me sent the tylle,
And prayth the, for thy lemmanes sake,
Thou schuldest wyth hym justes take."
Tho lough Launfal full stylle,
And seyde, as he was gentyl knyght,
Thylke day a fourtenyght,
He wold wyth hym play.
He yaf the messenger, for that tydyng,
A noble courser, and a ryng,
And a robe of ray.
Launfal tok leve at Triamour,
That was the bryght berde yn bour,
And keste that swete may.
Thanne seyde that swete wyght,
"Dreed the nothyng, Syr gentyl knyght,
Thou schalt hym sle that day!"
Launfal nolde nothyng wyth hym have
But Blaunchard hys stede and Gyfre hys knave
Of all hys fayr mayné.
He schypede, and hadde wynd well good,
And wente over the salte flod
Into Lumbardye.
Whan he was over the water ycome
Ther the justes schulde be nome
In the cyté of Atalye,
Syr Valentyn hadde a greet ost,
And Syr Launfal abatede her bost
Wyth lytyll companye.
And whan Syr Launfal was ydyght
Upon Blaunchard, hys stede lyght,
Wyth helm and spere and schelde,
All that sawe hym yn armes bryght
Seyde they sawe never swych a knyght,
That hym wyth eyen beheld.
Tho ryde togydere thes knyghtes two,
That har schaftes tobroste bo
And toschyverede yn the felde;
Another cours todgedere they rod,
That Syr Launfal helm of glod,
In tale as hyt ys telde.
Syr Valentyn logh, and hadde good game:
Hadde Launfal never so moche schame
Beforhond, yn no fyght.
Gyfre kedde he was good at nede
And lepte upon hys maystrys stede -
No man ne segh wyth syght;
And er than thay togedere mette,
Hys lordes helm he on sette,
Fayre and well adyght.
Tho was Launfal glad and blythe,
And thonkede Gyfre many sythe
For hys dede so mochel of myght.
Syr Valentyne smot Launfal soo
That hys scheld fel hym fro,
Anoon ryght yn that stounde.
And Gyfre the scheld up hente
And broghte hyt hys lord, to presente,
Er hyt cam doune to grounde.
Tho was Launfal glad and blythe,
And rode ayen the thrydde sythe,
As a knyght of mochell mounde.
Syr Valentyne he smot so dere
That hors and man bothe deed were,
Gronyng wyth grysly wounde.
Alle the lordes of Atalye
To Syr Launfal hadde greet envye
That Valentyne was yslawe,
And swore that he schold dye
Er he wente out of Lumbardye,
And be hongede and todrawe.
Syr Launfal brayde out hys fachon,
And as lyght as dew he leyde hem doune
In a lytyll drawe;
And whan he hadde the lordes slayn,
He wente ayen yn to Bretayn
Wyth solas and wyth plawe.
The tydyng com to Artour the Kyng
Anoon, wythout lesyng,
Of Syr Launfales noblesse.
Anoon he let to hym sende
That Launfall schuld to hym wende
At Seynt Jonnys Masse,
For Kyng Artour wold a feste holde
Of erles and of barouns bolde,
Of lordynges more and lesse.
Syr Launfal schud be stward of halle
For to agye hys gestes alle,
For cowthe of largesse.
Launfal toke leve at Triamour
For to wende to Kyng Artour,
Hys feste forto agye.
Ther he fond merthe and moch honour,
Ladyes that wer well bryght yn bour,
Of knyghtes greet companye.
Fourty dayes leste the feste,
Ryche, ryall, and honeste
(What help hyt forto lye?),
And at the fourty dayes ende,
The lordes toke har leve to wende,
Everych yn hys partye.
And aftyr mete Syr Gaweyn,
Syr Gyeryes and Agrafayn,
And Syr Launfal also
Went to daunce upon the grene
Under the tour ther lay the Quene
Wyth syxty ladyes and mo.
To lede the daunce Launfal was set.
For hys largesse he was lovede the bet
Sertayn, of alle tho.
The Quene lay out and beheld hem alle:
"I se," sche seyde, "daunce large Launfalle;
To hym than wyll y go."
"Of alle the knyghtes that y se there,
He ys the fayreste bachelere.
He ne hadde never no wyf;
Tyde me good other ylle,
I wyll go and wyte hys wylle:
Y love hym as my lyf!"
Sche tok wyth her a companye,
The fayrest that sche myghte aspye -
Syxty ladyes and fyf -
And wente hem doun anoon ryghtes,
Ham to pley among the knyghtes,
Well stylle wythouten stryf.
The Quene yede to the formeste ende
Betwene Launfal and Gauweyn the hende,
And after her ladyes bryght;
To daunce they wente, alle yn same:
To se hem play, hyt was fayr game,
A lady and a knyght.
They hadde menstrales of moch honours,
Fydelers, sytolyrs, and trompours,
And elles hyt were unryght;
Ther they playde, forsothe to say,
After mete, the somerys day
All what hyt was neygh nyght.
And whanne the daunce began to slake,
The Quene gan Launfal to counsell take,
And seyde yn thys manere:
"Sertaynlyche, Syr Knyght,
I have the lovyd wyth all my myght
More than thys seven yere!
But that thou lovye me,
Sertes y dye fore love of the,
Launfal, my lemman dere!"
Than answerede the gentyll knyght,
"I nell be traytour day ne nyght,
Be God, that all may stere!"
Sche seyde, "Fy on the, thou coward!
Anhongeth worth thou hye and hard!
That thou ever were ybore!
That thou lyvest, hyt ys pyté!
Thou lovyst no woman, ne no woman the -
Thou were worthy forlore!"
The knyght was sore aschamed tho;
To speke ne myghte he forgo
And seyde the Quene before,
"I have loved a fayryr woman
Than thou ever leydest thyn ey upon
Thys seven yer and more!
"Hyr lothlokest mayde, wythoute wene,
Myghte bet be a Quene
Than thou, yn all thy lyve!"
Therefore the Quene was swythe wroghth;
Sche taketh hyre maydenes and forth hy goth
Into her tour, also blyve.
And anon sche ley doun yn her bedde.
For wrethe, syk sche hyr bredde
And swore, so moste sche thryve,
Sche wold of Launfal be so awreke
That all the lond schuld of hym speke
Wythinne the dayes fyfe.
Kyng Artour com fro huntynge,
Blythe and glad yn all thyng.
To hys chamber than wente he.
Anoon the Quene on hym gan crye,
"But y be awreke, y schall dye!
Myn herte wyll breke athre!
I spak to Launfal yn my game,
And he besofte me of schame -
My lemman for to be;
And of a lemman hys yelp he made,
That the lothlokest mayde that sche hadde
Myght be a Quene above me!"
Kyng Artour was well wroth,
And by God he swor hys oth
That Launfal schuld be sclawe.
He wente aftyr doughty knyghtes
To brynge Launfal anoonryghtes
To be hongeth and todrawe.
The knyghtes softe hym anoon,
But Launfal was to hys chaumber gon
To han hadde solas and plawe.
He softe hys leef, but sche was lore
As sche hadde warnede hym before.
Tho was Launfal unfawe!
He lokede yn hys alner,
That fond hym spendyng all plener, 5
Whan that he hadde nede,
And ther nas noon, for soth to say;
And Gyfre was yryde away
Up Blaunchard, hys stede.
All that he hadde before ywonne,
Hyt malt as snow ayens the sunne,
In romaunce as we rede;
Hys armur, that was whyt as flour,
Hyt becom of blak colour.
And thus than Launfal seyde:
"Alas!" he seyde, "my creature,
How schall I from the endure,
Swetyng Tryamour?
All my joye I have forelore,
And the - that me ys worst fore - 6
Thou blysfull berde yn bour!"
He bet hys body and hys hedde ek,
And cursede the mouth that he wyth spek,
Wyth care and greet dolour;
And for sorow yn that stounde
Anon he fell aswowe to grounde.
Wyth that come knyghtes four
And bond hym and ladde hym tho
(Tho was the knyghte yn doble wo!)
Before Artour the kyng;
Than seyde Kyng Artour,
"Fyle ataynte traytour,
Why madest thou swyche yelpyng?
That thy lemmannes lothlokest mayde
Was fayrer than my wyf, thou seyde!
That was a fowll lesynge!
And thou besoftest her, befor than,
That sche schold be thy lemman -
That was mysprowd lykynge!"
The knyght answerede wyth egre mode,
Before the kyng ther he stode,
The Quene on hym gan lye:
"Sethe that y ever was yborn,
I besofte her herebeforn
Never of no folye! -
But sche seyde y nas no man,
Ne that me lovede no woman
Ne no womannes companye.
And I answerede her, and sayde
That my lemmannes lothlekest mayde
To be a Quene was better worthye.
"Sertes, lordynges, hyt ys so!
I am aredy for to do
All that the court wyll loke."
To say the soth, wythout les,
All togedere how hyt was,
Twelf knyghtes wer dryve to boke. 7
All they seyde ham betwene,
That knewe the maners of the Quene
And the queste toke,
The Quene bar los of swych a word
That sche lovede lemmannes wythout her lord -
Har never on hyt forsoke.
Therfor they seyden alle
Hyt was long on the Quene, and not on Launfal -
Therof they gonne hym skere;
And yf he myghte hys lemman brynge
That he made of swych yelpynge,
Other the maydenes were
Bryghtere than the Quene of hewe,
Launfal schuld be holde trewe
Of that, yn all manere;
And yf he myghte not brynge hys lef,
He schud be hongede as a thef,
They seyden all yn fere.
Alle yn fere they made proferynge
That Launfal schuld hys lemman brynge.
Hys heed he gan to laye;
Than seyde the Quene, wythout lesynge,
"Yyf he bryngeth a fayrer thynge,
Put out my eeyn gray!"
Whan that wajowr was take on honde,
Launfal therto two borwes fonde,
Noble knyghtes twayn:
Syr Percevall and Syr Gawayn,
They wer hys borwes, soth to sayn,
Tyll a certayn day.
The certayn day, I yow plyght,
Was twelfe moneth and fourtenyght,
That he schuld hys lemman brynge.
Syr Launfal, that noble knyght,
Greet sorow and care yn hym was lyght -
Hys hondys he gan wrynge;
So greet sorowe hym was upan,
Gladlyche hys lyf he wold a forgon
In care and yn marnynge;
Gladlyche he wold hys hed forgo.
Everych man therfore was wo
That wyste of that tydynge.
The certayn day was nyghyng:
Hys borowes hym brought befor the kyng;
The kyng recordede tho,
And bad hym bryng hys lef yn syght.
Syr Launfal seyde that he ne myght -
Therfore hym was well wo.
The kyng commaundede the barouns alle
To yeve jugement on Launfal
And dampny hym to sclo.
Than sayde the Erl of Cornewayle,
That was wyth ham at that counceyle,
"We wyllyd naght do so.
Greet schame hyt wer us alle upon
For to dampny that gantylman,
That hath be hende and fre;
Therfor, lordynges, doth be my reed!
Our kyng we wyllyth another wey lede:
Out of lond Launfal schall fle."
And as they stod thus spekynge,
The barouns sawe come rydynge
Ten maydenes, bryght of ble.
Ham thoghte they wer so bryght and schene
That the lodlokest, wythout wene,
Har Quene than myghte be.
Tho seyde Gawayn, that corteys knyght,
"Launfal, brodyr, drede the no wyght!
Her cometh thy lemman hende."
Launfal answerede and seyde, "Ywys,
Non of ham my lemman nys,
Gawayn, my lefly frende!"
To that castell they wente ryght:
At the gate they gonne alyght;
Befor Kyng Artour gonne they wende,
And bede hym make aredy hastyly
A fayr chamber, for her lady
That was come of kynges kende.
"Ho ys your lady?" Artour seyde.
"Ye schull ywyte," seyde the mayde,
"For sche cometh ryde."
The kyng commaundede, for her sake,
The fayryst chaunber for to take
In hys palys that tyde.
And anon to hys barouns he sente
For to yeve jugemente
Upon that traytour full of pryde:
The barouns answerede anoon ryght,
"Have we seyn the madenes bryght,
We schull not longe abyde."
A newe tale they gonne tho,
Some of wele and some of wo,
Har lord the Kyng to queme:
Some dampnede Launfal there,
And some made hym quyt and skere -
Har tales wer well breme.
Tho saw they other ten maydenes bryght,
Fayryr than the other ten of syght,
As they gone hym deme.
They ryd upon joly moyles of Spayne,
Wyth sadell and brydell of Champayne,
Har lorayns lyght gonne leme.
They wer yclodeth yn samyt tyre;
Ech man hadde greet desyre
To se har clothynge.
Tho seyde Gaweyn, that curtayse knyght,
"Launfal, her cometh thy swete wyght,
That may thy bote brynge."
Launfal answerede wyth drery thoght
And seyde, "Alas! y knowe hem noght,
Ne non of all the ofsprynge."
Forth they wente to that palys
And lyghte at the hye deys
Before Artour the Kynge,
And grette the Kyng and Quene ek,
And oo mayde thys wordes spak
To the Kyng Artour:
"Thyn halle agrayde, and hele the walles
Wyth clothes and wyth ryche palles,
Ayens my lady Tryamour."
The kyng answerede bedene,
"Well come, ye maydenes schene,
Be Our Lord the Savyour!"
He commaundede Launcelot du Lake to brynge
hem yn fere
In the chamber ther har felawes were,
Wyth merthe and moche honour.
Anoon the Quene supposed gyle:
That Launfal schulld, yn a whyle,
Be ymade quyt and skere
Thorugh hys lemman, that was commynge.
Anon sche seyde to Artour the kyng,
"Syre, curtays yf thou were,
Or yf thou lovedest thyn honour,
I schuld be awreke of that traytour
That doth me changy chere.
To Launfal thou schuldest not spare,
Thy barouns dryveth the to bysmare -
He ys hem lef and dere!"
And as the Quene spak to the Kyng,
The barouns seygh come rydynge
A damesele alone
Upoon a whyt comely palfrey.
They saw never non so gay
Upon the grounde gone:
Gentyll, jolyf as bryd on bowe,
In all manere fayr ynowe
To wonye yn wordly wone.
The lady was bryght as blosme on brere;
Wyth eyen gray, wyth lovelych chere,
Her leyre lyght schoone.
As rose on rys her rode was red;
The her schon upon her hed
As gold wyre that schynyth bryght;
Sche hadde a crounne upon her molde
Of ryche stones, and of golde,
That lofsom lemede lyght.
The lady was clad yn purpere palle,
Wyth gentyll body and myddyll small,
That semely was of syght;
Her matyll was furryd wyth whyt ermyn,
Yreversyd jolyf and fyn -
No rychere be ne myght.
Her sadell was semyly set:
The sambus wer grene felvet
Ypaynted wyth ymagerye.
The bordure was of belles
Of ryche gold, and nothyng elles
That any man myghte aspye.
In the arsouns, before and behynde,
Were twey stones of Ynde,
Gay for the maystrye.
The paytrelle of her palfraye
Was worth an erldome, stoute and gay,
The best yn Lumbardye.
A gerfawcon sche bar on her hond;
A softe pas her palfray fond,
That men her schuld beholde.
Thorugh Karlyon rood that lady;
Twey whyte grehoundys ronne hyr by -
Har colers were of golde.
And whan Launfal sawe that lady,
To alle the folk he gon crye an hy,
Bothe to yonge and olde:
"Her," he seyde, "comyth my lemman swete!
Sche myghte me of my balys bete,
Yef that lady wolde."
Forth sche wente ynto the halle
Ther was the Quene and the ladyes alle,
And also Kyng Artour.
Her maydenes come ayens her, right,
To take her styrop whan sche lyght,
Of the lady Dame Tryamour.
Sche dede of her mantyll on the flet,
That men schuld her beholde the bet,
Wythoute a more sojour.
Kyng Artour gan her fayre grete,
And sche hym agayn, wyth wordes swete
That were of greet valour.
Up stod the Quene and ladyes stoute,
Her for to beholde all aboute,
How evene sche stod upryght;
Than wer they wyth her also donne
As ys the mone ayen the sonne
Aday whan hyt ys lyght.
Than seyde sche to Artour the Kyng,
"Syr, hydyr I com for swych a thyng:
To skere Launfal the knyght;
That he never, yn no folye,
Besofte the quene of no drurye,
By dayes ne be nyght.
"Therfor, Syr Kyng, good kepe thou nyme!
He bad naght her, but sche bad hym
Here lemman for to be;
And he answerede her and seyde
That hys lemmannes lothlokest mayde
Was fayryre than was sche."
Kyng Artour seyde wythouten othe,
"Ech man may ysé that ys sothe,
Bryghtere that ye be."
Wyth that Dame Tryamour to the quene geth,
And blew on her swych a breth
That never eft myght sche se.
The lady lep an hyr palfray
And bad hem alle have good day -
Sche nolde no lengere abyde.
Wyth that com Gyfre all so prest,
Wyth Launfalys stede, out of the forest,
And stod Launfal besyde.
The knyght to horse began to sprynge
Anoon, wythout any lettynge,
Wyth hys lemman away to ryde;
The lady tok her maydenys achon
And wente the way that sche hadde er gon,
Wyth solas and wyth pryde.
The lady rod thorth Cardevyle
Fer ynto a jolyf ile,
Olyroun that hyghte.
Every yer, upon a certayn day,
Me may here Launfales stede nay,
And hym se wyth syght.
Ho that wyll ther axsy justus,
To kepe hys armes fro the rustus,
In turnement other fyght,
Dar he never forther gon;
Ther he may fynde justes anoon
Wyth Syr Launfal the knyght.
Thus Launfal, wythouten fable,
That noble knyght of the Rounde Table,
Was take ynto Fayrye;
Seththe saw hym yn thys lond noman,
Ne no more of hym telle y ne can,
For sothe, wythoute lye.
Thomas Chestre made thys tale
Of the noble knyght Syr Launfale,
Good of chyvalrye.
Jhesus, that ys hevene kyng,
Yeve us alle Hys blessyng,
And Hys modyr Marye!
AMEN
Explicit Launfal
|
In mighty Arthur's days; (see note)
Who; (see note)
befell a wondrous event
Of which a lay was composed
was named; is called yet; (see note)
listen; (see note)
at one time; (see note)
Dwelt
satisfaction
worthy
was not
(see note)
knew how to; on the field
Battles to win
(see note)
them; fame
then; their equal
(see note)
(see note)
had been
was called
gave; generously; (see note)
(see note)
squire; (see note)
generosity
steward; (see note)
year; assure
generous; none
it befell; year; (see note)
Merlin; counselor; (see note)
advised; go
right away; (see note)
fetch; (see note)
daughter; courtly; (see note)
did; home
(see note)
were well-bred
bore reputation; renown; (see note)
lovers besides
many; was not ever an end
tell
Whitsunday; (see note)
All the; bridal feast
From; far
seated
Unless; prelate or; (see note)
No reason to hide anything; (see note)
Even if; equally
Their service
Truly on all sides
eaten
table clothes; removed
may hear; listen
wine servants served wine; (see note)
therein
blithe
gave gifts believe me; (see note)
stones
to make known
gave brooch or
gave
saddened; time
wedding feast
asked permission to depart
From
his father taken
must [go]; burying
gracious
depart
you costly gifts
sons; (see note)
To accompany you home
a lie; (see note)
From
on
(see note)
mayor's; (see note)
Who had been his servant
mayor; hear
ambling
retinue
[The mayor] went to meet him
fares
Or else it were great pity
deceit
estranged; (see note)
aggrieves me sorely
Nor; need; low born or high; (see note)
Honor; anymore
for friendship's sake
lodging
Once; knew each other, long ago
contemplated
did he speak
have taken lodging here; (see note)
until
Who are
laughed
enough
two
such; (see note)
value; (see note)
be appreciative
bade
immediately
Lodged; together
wealth; spent
fell
first
(see note)
alight
(see note)
their; (see note)
From
are torn
(see note)
badly clothed
(see note)
(see note)
then
would not betray him ever
Even to gain the whole world
(see note)
Where; residing
to them; hastened
kin
(see note)
them had taken
those; all torn
cruel
Can he still bear arms
(see note)
If otherwise; prevent; (see note)
(see note)
told
desired us forever
To have stayed freely
To hunt in ancient woods; (see note)
went
have come
In what we previously wore; (see note)
comfort
regretted sorely
wished
pains
(see note)
burgesses; (see note)
young
invited; gathering
Little [did]; think
invited
(see note)
asked
dine
passed
Food
because of
wanted to
lacked hose; shoes
Clean breeches
lack; (see note)
among; make my way
that I smart (am hurt); (see note)
loan
In a clearing near
morning time
harnassed; charger; (see note)
or
slipped; mud; (see note)
Wretchedly
To stop [their] staring
that morning
dismounted; rest
Beside; (see note)
because of; weather
folded
simplicity
shadow; (see note)
it pleased him
grief
ancient forest
Their gowns; Indian silk
Laced tightly; neatly
Their; velvet; (see note)
Embroidered; adorned
Furred; grey; white
Their;coifed
coronet
gems
Their;[a] hill
complexion; eyes
carried; basin
towel
silk; expensive
head-dresses; very bright
wire
sigh; (see note)
heath; (see note)
toward them goes
greets them politely
protect
(see note)
Bade; her
If it;sir
delay
to them consented
were; aflower
above
tent pitched; saw
great
wrought, truly indeed
work; Saracens; (see note)
pole knobs
top; eagle
burnished
Decorated; costly enamel
eyes;rubies; (see note)
moon; by night; (see note)
spreads; over
(see note)
pomp
such jewel
found
(see note)
who was called
Fairyland; (see note)
far; near; (see note)
sumptuous
Covered; linen
seemly
gracious
lovely one glittered brightly
Because of the heat; undid
Almost; waist
uncovered
lily; (see note)
saw; beautiful
with certainty
hair
describe her attire
Nor; imagine in [his] heart
darling; (see note)
renounce
Sweet lover
Christendom
creature (wight)
upon her had settled
kissed
whatever happens
at; service
gracious
in my presence
devote [yourself]; (see note)
give a purse; (see note)
shining
thy hand
(see note)
whatever
loyalsteed; (see note)
servant; (see note)
coat-of-arms a banner; (see note)
ermines; (see note)
harm; blow
gentle
thank you; thing
provision have I received (see note)
did sit herself up
fetch
hands
done; delay
table
their supper
plenty; (see note)
Spiced wines; Rheinish; (see note)
immediately
together
lovemaking; slept
bade
She
If; wish to; any time
secret place
secretly; will
still; stone
Then
could[to]; make known
kissed; many times
boast; (see note)
no kind of reward
[as] before
utterlylost
leave to go
showed; helpful
saddle
clothes
at ease; (see note)
held himself at peace
afternoon
armored
pack-horses riding
it should [go]
asked about
indigo
Upon
Then
far; these treasures go
for friendship's sake
It
as a
Who; lived; misery
He is nothing but; (see note)
lodging
to him
saw
considered; sorely abused
for
intended
have been together
But before [I could invite you], you were gone
reward; (see note)
never invited me to dine [with you]
[But] now; wealth
(see note)
went
purple dressed himself; (see note)
Trimmed; (see note)
borrowed
by tally; by account; (see note)
Repaid
(see note)
He fed fifty poor guests; (see note)
Who were in distress
Bought fifty steeds
[And] gave fifty sets of fine clothing
Rewarded fifty clerics
prisoners
them free; clear
Clothed fifty minstrels; (see note)
far; near
(see note)
Announced
know; he would succeed
Who; built
jousts; [to be] held
quickly
began to blow their horns
in a row
inflicted on the others
maces
A person might see
lost
enraged; (see note)
[Ever] since
never was
Surely; oath
governor
a lie
would not; endure [Launfal's success]
hit at
serious blows; fierce
on both sides
aware
very moment
saddle; (see note)
saw all this
wrath; nearly mad; (see note)
on the top
[So] that; fly
of great strength
Off; knocked him
threw; on the ground
There clustered all around Launfal
company
I[know] not how many
one see shields split
broken and splintered to pieces
Through; blow[s]; (see note)
truly
prize; tournament
oath
mayor's
royal
lasted [a]
many
Seemly; hall
royally;adorned
bower
Each day
then
Saw; none
(see note)
envy
was called
heard; tell
knew how to joust; (see note)
(see note)
tall
field; them two |