A tretys of one Gyngelayne othir wyse namyd by Kyng Arthure Lybeus Dysconeus that was bastard son to Sir Gaweyne. (see note); (t-note)
5 10 15 20 25 30 35 40 45 50 55 60 65 70 75 80 85 90 95 100 105 110 115 120 125 130 135 140 145 150 155 160 165 170 175 180 185 190 195 200 205 210 215 220 225 230 235 240 245 250 255 260 265 270 275 280 285 290 295 300 305 310 315 320 325 330 335 340 345 350 355 360 365 370 375 380 385 390 395 400 405 410 415 420 425 430 435 440 445 450 455 460 465 470 475 480 485 490 495 500 505 510 515 520 525 530 535 540 545 550 555 560 565 570 575 580 585 590 595 600 605 610 615 620 625 630 635 640 645 650 655 660 665 670 675 680 685 690 695 700 705 710 715 720 725 730 735 740 745 750 755 760 765 770 775 780 785 790 795 800 805 810 815 820 825 830 835 840 845 850 855 860 865 870 875 880 885 890 895 900 905 910 915 920 925 930 935 940 945 950 955 960 965 970 975 980 985 990 995 1000 1005 1010 1015 1020 1025 1030 1035 1040 1045 1050 1055 1060 1065 1070 1075 1080 1085 1090 1095 1100 1105 1110 1115 1120 1125 1130 1135 1140 1145 1150 1155 1160 1165 1170 1175 1180 1185 1190 1195 1200 1205 1210 1215 1220 1225 1230 1235 1240 1245 1250 1255 1260 1265 1270 1275 1280 1285 1290 1295 1300 1305 1310 1315 1320 1325 1330 1335 1340 1345 1350 1355 1360 1365 1370 1375 1380 1385 1390 1395 1400 1405 1410 1415 1420 1425 1430 1435 1440 1445 1450 1455 1460 1465 1470 1475 1480 1485 1490 1495 1500 1505 1510 1515 1520 1525 1530 1535 1540 1545 1550 1555 1560 1565 1570 1575 1580 1585 1590 1595 1600 1605 1610 1615 1620 1625 1630 1635 1640 1645 1650 1655 1660 1665 1670 1675 1680 1685 1690 1695 1700 1705 1710 1715 1720 1725 1730 1735 1740 1745 1750 1755 1760 1765 1770 1775 1780 1785 1790 1795 1800 1805 1810 1815 1820 1825 1830 1835 1840 1845 1850 1855 1860 1865 1870 1875 1880 1885 1890 1895 1900 1905 1910 1915 1920 1925 1930 1935 1940 1945 1950 1955 1960 1965 1970 1975 1980 1985 1990 1995 2000 2005 2010 2015 2020 2025 2030 2035 2040 2045 2050 2055 2060 2065 2070 2075 2080 2085 2090 2095 2100 2105 2110 2115 2120 2125 2130 2135 2140 2145 2150 2155 2160 2165 2170 2175 2180 2185 2190 2195 2200	Jhesus Criste oure Savyour And His Moder, that swete floure, Spede hem at her nede That lysteneth of a conquerour, Wise of witt and wight wereour And doughty man of dede. His name was Sir Gyngelayne, Gotten he was of Sir Gaweyne, Under a forest syde; A better knyght was never prophitable With Arthur at the Roun Table: Herde I never of redde. Gyngelayne was fayre of sight, Gentyll of body and of face bryght, Bastard though that he were; His moder hym kepte with hir myght That he shulde se no knyght I-armed in no maner, For he was full savage And gladly wold do outerage To his fellaues in fere; And all for dred of wycke loose His moder alwey kepte him close, As dughty childe and dere. And for he was so fayre of fyce, His moder clepte him Bewfiz, And none other name, And this childe was so nyse He asked never, i-wysse, Whate hight of his dame. Tyll hit befell uppon a day, The childe wente him forthe to playe, Of dere to have som game He fond a knyght there he lay, In armes stoute and gaye, Slayne and made ful tame. He toke off that knyghtis wede; Hymsylffe therin well fayre can shrede, All in that bryght armour. Whan he had do that in dede, To Glastynbury the childe him yede, Ther lay Kyng Arthure. And whan he came to Arthurs hall He fond him there and his lordis all; This childe knelyd downe on his kne; “Kyng Arthure, Criste thee save and see. I am come oute of fer contré My mone to make to thee. I am a child unkowthe And come out of the southe And wolde be made a knyght; Lorde, I pray thee nowthe, With thi mery mouthe, To graunte me anone right.” Than saide Arthure the kynge, “To me childe, without dwellinge: Whate is thi name aplight? For never sethe I was born, Sawe I never me beforne So semely to my sight.” Sayde Gyngelayn, “Be Seint Jame! I ne wote whate is my name; I am the more nyse; But while I was at home, My moder, on hir game, Clepped me Bewfice.” Than sayde Arthur the kyng, “This is a wonder thinge, Be God and Seint Denyce, Whan that he wold be made a knyght And wote not whate his name hyght And hathe so fayre a vice. I shall yif hym a name, Amonge you all in same, For he is fayre and fre; Be God and be Seint Jame, So clepped him never his dame, Whate woman so she be. Clepeth him in your use, Lybeus Disconeus, For the love of me; Than mowe ye wit, on a rowe, That the better ye mowe knowe Certis so hight hee.” Kynge Arthur anone right Con make him a knyght, Did; In that sylffe daye, “Now Kyng Arthur hathe made me knyght, I thanke him with all my myght; Bothe by day and nyght With my fomen I will fight Them to say with strok of myght And to juste in feere.” Whan he was a knyght made, Of Arthure a bone he bade And sayde, “My lorde fre: In hert I were full glad The first fyghtinge that ye hadde That men will aske of thee.” Than saide Arthure the kynge, “I graunte thee thine askynge, Whate batayll so it bee; But me thinketh thou arte to yonge To do a gode fyghtynge, Be ought that I can see.” Withouten eny more reyson, Duke, erle, and baron Wesshed and went to mete. Volatyle and venyson, As lordis of grete renon, I-now they had to ete. Nade Arthure syt but a while, The mountence of a myle, Att his tabyll sett, Ther con a mayde in ryde And a dwerfe by hir syde, All beswett for hete. The may hight Ellene, Gentyll, bryght and shene, A lovely messengere. Ther nas countes nor quene So semely on to sene That myght be hir pere. She was clothed in tarse, Rownd and nothinge scarse, I-pured with blawndenere; Hir sadill was overgilt And with diamondis fyltt: Milke white was hir destere. The dwerf was clothed in ynde, Byfore and eke behinde: Stoute he was and pertte. Amongis all Cristyn kyng Suche sholde no man fynde; His surcote was so ryche bete. His berde was yelewe as wax, To his girdyll hange his fax: The sothe to say in sertenté, Of gold his shone were dight And coped as a knyght: That signyfied no poverti. Theodeley was his name: Wyde were spronge his fame, By northe and eke by southe; Mekyll he couthe of game, Sotill, sawtrye in same, Harpe, fethill, and crowthe. He was a gentill boourdour Amonge ladyes in boure, A mery man of mouthe. He spake to the mayde hende, “For to tell thine erende, Tyme hit were nouthe.” The mayde knelyd in hall Befor the knyghtis all And sayd, “My lorde Arthure, A casse is nowe befall, A worsse within wall Was never yitt of doloure. Mi lady of Synadowne Is brought in stronge prison, That was of grete valure, And pray you sond hir a knyght That is of wer wyse and wight, To wynne hir with honoure.” Uppe startte that yonge knyght, With hert mery and light, And sayde, “Arthur, my lorde, I shall do that fight And wyn that lady with myght, If ye be trewe of worde.” Than sayde Arthoure, “That is sothe, Certeyn withouten othe, Therto I bere recorde. God yf thee strenthe and myght To hold that ladyes right With dynte of sper and swerde.” The mayde began to chide And sayde, “Alas that tyde That I was heder i-sentt! Thy worde shall sprynge wide: Forlorne is thy pryde And thi lose shentt, When thou wilt send a childe That is witles and wylde To dele eny doughty dent, And haste knyghtis of renoun, Syr Persyfal and Syr Gawyn, That ben abled in turment.” The dwerfe with grete erroure Went to Kynge Arthowre And saide, “Kynde kynge: This childe to be weroure And to do suche labour Is not worthe a ferthinge Or that he that lady see, He shall do bataylles thre, Wythoute eny lesynge; At Poynte Perilowse, Besyde the Chapell of Awntrous, Shall be his begynynge.” Syr Lybeus than answerde, “Yett was I never aferde For dred of wordys awe. To fyght with spere and swerde Somdell have I lernede. There many man hathe be slawe, That man that fleyth by wey or strete, I wolde the devyll had broke his nek, Wherever he hym take; Also I wolde he were to-drawe And with the wyne to wawe, Till the devill him take. The batayll I undirtake And never none forsake, As hit is londes lawe.” The kynge said anone right, “Thou gettist here none other knyght, By Him that bought me dere! If ye thinke the childe not wyght, Get thee another wher thou myght, That is of more power.” The mayden for ire and hete Wolde neyther drynke ne ete, For none that there were. She sate downe dismayde Tyll the table was raysed, She and the dwerfe in fere. Kyng Arthoure, in that stounde, Comaunded of the Tabill Rownde Foure of the best knyghtis, In armys hole and sownde, To arme him anone rightis; And sayde, “Throwe the helpe of Criste, That in the flome was baptiste, He shall holde uppe all high hightis, And be gode champyon To the Lady of Synadon And fellen hir foon in fyghtis.” To armen him the knyghtis were fayne: The fyrst was Syr Gawayne, That othere, Syr Persyvale, The third was Syr Iwayne, The fourthe highte Agfayne: Thus telleth the Frensshe tale. They kestyn on him of sylke A sorkett white as mylke, That semely was in sale; Theron an haubryk bryght That richely was dyght With mayles thik and smale. Syr Gawyn, his owe syre, Henge aboute his swyre A shelde with one cheferon; And an helme of riche atyre That was stele and none ire Sir Percyvale sett on his crowne; Lawncelett brought him a spere, In armes him with to were, And a fell fauchone; Iwayne brought him a stede That was gode at nede And egir as eny lyoun. The knyght to hors gan sprynge And rode to Arthure the kynge And sayde, “My lorde hende, Yeff me thy blessynge, Withoute eny dwellynge; My will is nowe to wende.” Arthur his honde up haffe And his blessyng him gaffe, As curteys kynge and kynde, And sayde, “God yf thee grace, Of spede and eke of space, To brynge that byrde oute of bonde.” The messanger was stoute and gaye And leppte on her palfraye. The dwerfe rode by hir syde, Tyll on the thirde day, On that knyght alwaye Faste he gan to chide. And saide, “Lorell, caytyfe, Though thu were worthe suche fyve, Lorne is thy pryde! This place beforne kepith a knyght That with eche man will fight: His wordis spryngen full wyde. He hat Syr William Delaraunche: His fyght may no man staunche, He is a werreour oute of wytt; Throwe herte other throwe haunche, His spere he will throwe launche Whoso agayne hym sytt.” Quod Lybeous Disconeous, “Is his fyght of suche use? Was he never i-hitt? For ought that may betyde, Ayenes him will I ride To se how he will fytte!” They redyn forthe all thre Upon that fayre cause Ryght to Chapell Auntours; The knyght they con see, In armys bryght of blee, Uppon the Poynte Perylous. He bare a shelde of grene With three lyons of gold shene, Well proude and precious; Of sute lynnell and trappes. To dele strokys and rappes That knyght was evyr vyous. Whan he sawe Lybeous with syght Agayne him he rode right And sayde, “Welcome bewfere! Whoso ridis here day or nyght He most nedys with me fight Or leven his armes here.” Quod Lybeous Disconeus, “For the love of Jhesus, Lette us nowe passe here: We be fer from any frende And have wylde wey to wende, I and this mayden in fere.” William answerd thoo, “Thowe shalt not scape soo, So God yf me rest! We shall bothe twoo Fyght or than we goo, A forlonge here be weste.” Quod Lybeus, “Nowe Y see Hit will non other bee: In haste do thi best. Take thi course with thi shafte, Iff thu conne thy crafte, For here is myne all prest.” They wolde no lenger abyde, But togeder con they ryde With well grete raundoun. Lybeus Disconeus that tide Smote William under the syde With a sper felloune; But William sate so faste That bothe his styropis to-brast And his hynder arsoune, That he begann to stoupe Over his hors crowpe, And in the felde fell downe. His stede ranne away, But William nought longe laye But stertt up anone ryght And sayde, “Be my faye! Nevyr afor this daye Ne fonde I none so wyght. My stede is nowe agoo: Sir, fyght on fote also, Yff thou be a gentyll knyght.” Sayde Libeus Disconeus, “By the leve of Jhesus, Therto I am full lyght.” Togeder con they dynge And fauchones oute to flynge And faughten frely faste. Dyntis con they dynge That fyre, withoute lesynge, From helme and basnett oute braste; But Wylliam Sellabraunche To Lybeus con launche Through his shelde on highe. Lybeus anone ryght Deffended him with myght, As werreor queynte and slygh; Barbe and crest in syght He made to fle downe ryght Of Williams helme on highe; And with the poynte of the swerde He shove Williams berde And came the flesshe not nyghe. William smote to Lybeus soo That his swerd barst a-two, That many a man hit syghe. Tho can William to crye, “For the love of Mary, On lyve now lett me passe! Hit were a grete vylonye To do a knyght to dye, Wepenles in a plasse.” Quod Lybeus Disconeus, “By the love of Jhesus, Of lyfe gettest thu no grace But thu swere me an othe Or than ye hense gothe Righte before my face.” “In haste knele thu downe And swere on my fauchon Thou shalt to Artor wende And say, ‘Lord of renon, As overcome person, A knyght me heder ganne sende, That ye cleppen in your use Lybeus Disconeus, Unkothe of right and kynde.’” William on kneis him sett And swore, as he hym hett, Her forward worde and ende. Thus they departed all: William to Arthours hall Toke the right waye. A case ther can befall Thre prynces proude in palle He met that ylke daye. The knyghtis all thre Weren his syster sonnes free, That weren so stoute and gaye. Whan they sawe William blede, As men that wolden wede They maden grete deraye. And seyde, “Eme William, Who hathe wrought thee this shame? Why bledest thou so yeren?” “By God and be Seint Jame, Of that he is nought to blame, A knyght wel stoute and sterne. Lybeus Disconeus he highte To fell his fone in fyght He nys nothinge to leren. A dwerfe rydis him byfore, His squyer als he were, And eke a well fayre berne. But o thinge grevis me sore That he hathe made me swere By his fauchone bryght That I shall nevermore, Till I be Artour before, Stynte day nor nyght. To hym I mot me yelde As overcomen in felde Of his owne knyght; I shall never agenes him bere Nother sheld nother spere, Thus have Y him hight.” Than said the knyghtis free, “Thou shalt awroken bee Sertys withoute fayle! Hym agayne us thre Ys not worthe a stree For to holde batayle. Wende thedyr and do thine othe, And though the traytour be wrothe We shall him assayll; Or he this forest passe His hambrek we will to-rasshe, Though hit be thike of mayle!” Hereof wyst no wyght Syr Lybeus that yonge knyght, But rode forthe pase by pase. He and that mayden bright Made togeder that nyght Gamen and grete solas. “Mercy,” she con hym crye, For she had spoken hym vylonye; He foryave hir that trespas. The dwerf was hir squyer And served hem bothe in fere Of alle that worthi was. On morowe, whan it was daye, They redyn on her jornaye Taward Synadoune. Then met they in the way Thre knyghtis stoute and gaye, Rydynge from Carboun. To hym they cryed aright “Traytor, torne agayne and fight, Or leve here thi rennoun! For here we westward wende Thyne haubrek we shall rende Ther to we bethe full bounde.” Syr Lybeus to hem cryed, “I am redy to ride Agenes you all in same!” As prince proude in pride, He prekyd his stede on eche syde And to them stoutly con rede On ernest and nought in game. The eldest brother can bere To Sir Lybeus a spere: Gower was his name; Lybeus rode Gower so neghe That he to-brake Gowers thiegh, And evyr after was lame. The knyght gronyd for payne; Lybeous, with myght and mayne, Held hym fast adowne. The dwerfe of Theodoleyn Toke the stede by the rayne And lepte up in the arson, And rode forthe, also skette, Ther the mayde Elyne sette That faire was of fassyon; Than loughe this mayden bright And seide that this yonge knyght Is chose for champyon. The medyllest brothere beheld How his brother in the felde Had lorne bothe mayne and myght. He smote, as it is tolde, Syr Lybeous in the shelde With his spere full right. The shafte a-two did brest, The hede steked faste In place ther hit was pight; Lybeous than can ber With the poynte of his spere The helme awey of the knyght. The yongest brother full yerne Upon a stede full sterne As egir as eny lyon, Hym thought his body can bren But he myght, also yerne, Ber Lybeous downe. As werour oute of witt Lybeous on the helme he hit With a fell fauchon; So styffe a stroke he sett, Throwe helme and basnett, Hit clave in Lybeous crowne. Tho wax Lybeous agreved When he felte on his hede The swerde, with egir mode; His bronde aboute he wende. All that he hit he shende, Alse werreour wilde and wode. Full fast men saide thoo, “A man agaynes two, To fyght is nothinge gode!” Harde he hewe on him, And he, with strokys gryme, Styfly agenes him stode. But throwe Godis grace, That other brother he canne brace Under his right arme thoo; He threwe him in that place And in that selfe space His lyfte arme brast atwoo. The yongest say with sight That he ne had mayne no myght To fyght agaynes his foo; To Lybeous up he helde His spere and eke his shelde And mercy cryed hym thoo. Lybeous answerd, “Naye, Thou ascapest not so away, By Hym that holpe mankynde! Thou and thi bretheren tweyne Shull plight me your fayne Ye shullen to Artor wende, And sey, ‘Lord of renon, As overcome of persoune, A knyght me hedyr can sende To yelde you toure and towne And dwell in your bawndon, Ever withoute ende.’ “And but ye will so doo, Certis, I will you sloo, Longe or hit be nyght.” The knyghtis sworne two They shulde to Arthur goo, Her trowythe ther they plight. Lybeus and that may Rydden in her jornaye Ther they haden tight. Tyll that the therd day They reden in game and playe, He and that mayden bryght. They reden even weste Into the wilde forest Taward Synadoun. They nuste whate hem was best; Taken they wolde fayne reste And myght not come to towne. In the grene greves Thei dight a loge of leves, With swerdys bryght and browne; Therein they dwelled al nyght, He and that mayden bright, That was of fayre fassyon. And evyr the dwerf can wake That nothinge shulde betake Here hors aweye with gyle. For dred he ganne quake Grete fyre he sawe make, Thensse halfe a myle. “Aryse, sir,” he sayde, “knyght! To hors that ye were dight, For dred of more perile; Certis, I hire boste And fele grete smylle of roste, Be God and be Saint Gyle!” Lybeous was stoute and fayre And lepte upon his desteyre And hent shelde and spere, And whan that he nyghed nere, As he rode tawarde the fyre, Two gyauntes he sawe there. That one was rede and lothelych, That other black as eny pyche Gressly bothe of chere! The black helde in his arme A mayde i-clypped in his barme So bryght as blossom on brere. The rede giaunte full yerne A wylde bore canne torne Aboute apon a spytt. The fyre bright can bren, The mayde cryed yerne For some man shuld it wit, And sayde ever, “Wayle-a-waye! That ever I shulde bide this daye With two devylles to sitt! Helppe me, Mary mylde, For love of thine childe, That I be nought forgett!” Than Lybeous: “Be Seint Jame! To save this maiden from shame, Hit were enpure enprice; But for to fight with bothe in same, Hit is no childes game — They be so grym and gryse!” He toke his course with a shafte, As a knyght of kynde crafte, And rode be right assyse. The blacke giaunte can to smert Thorugh lounge and hert, That never after can rysse. Tho flye the mayden shene And thanked tho Heven Quene That suche socoure hir sent; Tho came the mayde Elene, She and the dwarffe bydene, And by the hande hir hentte, And lad hir into the greves, Into the loge of levys, With well gode entent, And besought swete Jhesus Helpe Lybeus Disconeus That he ner nought shent. The rede gyaunte smote thore To Sir Lybeous withe the bore As wolfe oute of wede. His dynnte he smote so sore That Lybeous stede therefore Downe to grownde yede. Lybeous was redy bounde And lepte on his arson As sparkyll dothe on glede; With hartt egyr as a lyon, He faught with his fauchon To quyte the gyaunte his mede. Ever the gyaunte faught, But at the secunde draught His spere barst evyn a-twoo; As man that was unsawght A tronchon oute he laught To fyght agaynes his foo, And with the hede of the tre He smote Lybeous shelde in thre: Than was Lybeous woo. As he his tronchon up haffe, Syr Lybeous a stroke him gaffe: His right arme fell hym froo. The gyaunte fell to grownde: Syr Lybeous, in that stownde, Smote off his hede full right. In Frensshe as it is ifounde, He that he gave the fyrste wounde, He servyd hym so aplyght. And then toke the hedis two And bare the mayden thoo, For whom he made that fyght; The mayde was glade and blythe And thanked God fele sythe That ever he was made knyght. Quod Lybeous, “Gentil dame, Tell me whate is thi name And where ye were y-bore.” “Syr,” she sayde, “Be Seynt John, My fader is of riche fame And wonnes yonder beforne: An erle, an olde hore knyght, That hathe ben man of myght: His name is Syr Anctour. They clepen me Violet; The gyauntes had me besett Aboute our castell yore. Yesterday, in the evenynge, I went on my playenge: None harme Y ne thoughte. The gyaunte, withoute lesynge, Oute of the busshes con sprynge And to this fyre me brought; Of hem I had be shent Nad God me socoure sent, That all the worlde wrought. He quyte thee thy mede, That for us canne blede And with His body us bought.” Withoute more talkynge, To hors con they sprynge And reden forthe all in same, And tolde the erle tydynge Howe he wanne in fightynge His doughter fro woo and shame. Than were the hedis sent To Kynge Arthour in present, With mekyll glee and game; And tho in courte fast roose Syr Lybeous Dysconeus noble loose And all his gentill fame. The Erle, for his gode dede, Yave him full riche mede: Shelde and armes bryght, And also a noble stede That was gode at nede In turnament and in fyght. Lybeus and that maye Redyn in her jurnaye, Ther they logen tyght. Thanne sawe thei in a parke A castell store and starke That richely was ydight. Fayre walled hit was with stone: Suche sawe he never none, With cornyllus styff and stoute. Sayd Lybeous, “Be Seynt John! This were a worthy wone, Who had hit wonne with dyntt.” Than lough that byrd bryght And sayde, “Alwey a knyght, The best here all aboute, Whoso will with him fyght, By day or by nyght, Lowe he maketh him loute. “For love of his leman, That is so fayre a woman, He hathe done crye and grede Whoso bryngeth a fayrer on, A gerfawkon, white as swanne, He shall have to his mede. And yf she is not so bright, With Jeffron he most fight; And yf he may not spede, His hede shall him be rafte And sett upon a shafte To seen in lenthe and brede. The sothe to se wele An hede or two up-right.” Saide Lybeous als snelle, “By God and Saint Michelle! With Jeffran Y will fyght And chalaunge that faukon And sey I have in towne A lemman two so bright; And when he will hir a-see, I shalle shewe him thee, By day other by nyghte!” The dwerfe said, “By Jhesus! Gentill Lybeous Disconyous, Thou puttist thee in grete perille. Jeffron le Freudous In syght hathe a queynte use Knyghtis to begylle.” Lybeous answerd ther, “Therof have I no care, Be God and be Seint Gile! I shall see his face, Or Y esteward passe From this cité a myle.” Wythoute more renowen They dwellyd still in towne All that nyght in pease. On morowe Lybeous was bowne To wyne him renon And rose, withoute leese; And armed him right sever In that noble armwre That Er Aunctours was. His stede ganne to stride, The dwarfe rode him beside Taward the proude palleys. Jeffrond le Frendys, He rose and was with us, In that morowe tide To honoure swete Jhesus And ses Lybeus Disconyous, Come prickande with pryde! Withoute any abode, Agayne Libeous he rode And lowde to hym can crye With vaise sharpe and shille: “Comest thu for gode or ille? Tell me anone in highe!” Quod Lybeous also tite, “I have grete delyte With thee for to fighte. Thou seyste a foule dispite, Ther is no woman so white As thy leman be lighte, And I have one in towne Well fayre of fassyon, In clothis when she is dight. Therfor the gerfaukon To Arthur kynge with crowne Bringe I shall with right.” Quod Jeffrey, “Gentyll knyght, We shull proven aright Whether the fayrer be.” Quod Lybeous anone right, “In Cordile cité with sight, That eche man may hir see, And amyddis the market Bothe thei shull be sette, To loke on, bonde and free. Yff my leman is browne, To wyn the jerfaukon Juste Y will with thee.” Quod Jeffrounse also snell, “Forsothe, I graunte it wele; This daye at undertide, By God and by Seint Michell! Oute atte this castell To Cardyle we shull ride!” Her glovis up they helde Ther right in the felde, As prynce proude in pryde. Lybeus also snelle Rode home to his ostell: He nolde no lenger abide, And hit the mayde Elyne, That semely was to sene, To buske and make hir bownde; And seyde, “By Heven Quene, Geffrouns lemman, the shene Today shall come to towne; Amydward the cité That all men shall you see, Of wede and fassyon; Yff thu arte not so bryght, With Jeffround I mot fight To wynne the jerfaukon.” The dwerf answerd and seid, “Thow doste a savage dede, For any man i-borne! Thow wilt not do be rede But faryst with thi madd hede As lorde that will be lorne. For His love, forthe we wende, That died for all mankynde And in Bedlem was borne!” Lybeous said, “That were shame: I hadd levyr, be Seint Jeme, With wilde hors to be torne!” The mayde Ellyne, also tighth, In a robe of samyte Gaylie ganne hir atyre To do Lybeous prophite, In kerchevys fayre and white Aryved with gold wyre. A velvet mantill gaye Purfild with gryce and graye She did aboute hir swyre; The serkell upon hir moolde Of precious stones and goolde: The best of that empire. Lebeous sate that daye Upon a gode palfraye, And reden forthe all three. Eche man to other ganne saye, “Here cometh a lady gaye: Is semely unto see!” Into the markete thei rode And boldly ther abode, Amydward the citee; Then sawe thei Jeffron com ryde And two squyers by his syde And no more mayne. He bare the shelde of gowlys, Of sylver thre white owlys, And of gold the bordure; And of that same colours And of that other floures Was fyne golde and trappure. The squiers that by him rode That one bare shaftis gode, Thre shaftis gode and sewre; That other lade redy bownde The joly gentill jerfaukowne: The two ladyes were there. And aftir hym come ryde A lady proude in pryde, Iclothed in purpyll palle. The folke came fer and wide To se them back and syde: Howe gent she was and smalle. Hir mantill was ryght fyne, Ipowderd with ermyne, Well riche and ryalle. The sercle on hir molde Of stones and of goolde And many a ryche amayle. As rose hir rudde was rede; The here shone on hir hede As gold wyre shynynge bryght. Hir browes also blacke as sylke threde Ibent in leynthe and brede; Hir nose was streght and right. Hir eyen gray as glasse, Milke white was hir face: So seid they that sawee that syght. Hir swyre longe and smale; Hir bewté to tellen alle No man with mowthe myght. But tho men did hem brynge Two cheyers into the chepyng, Her bewtees to discryve. Then seid bothe olde and yonge, Forthewithe withoute lesynge, “Betwene hem was partye: Geffroune leman is clere, As rose on rise or in erbere, Forsothe and nought to lye! Ellyne the messangere Ne were but a lawnder: Of hir no loose make I.” Quod Geffrounde ly Froundes, “Sir knyght, by swete Jhesus, This hauk thou haste lore!” Quod Lybeous Disconeous, “Suche was never myne use; Juste I will therfore. Yf thowe berest me downe, Take my hede and the faukon, As forwarde was thore; And yf I ber downe thee, The hauk shall wend with me, Magré thyne hede, hore.” Withoute more tale to telle, They redyn downe in the felde And with hem grete partye; With cornellus styff and shelde Eythir agayne othir in the felde With well grete envye Her shaftis brosten asondre, Her dyntis ferden as thonder That cometh oute of the skey; Tabowres and trompours, Heroudes and dissoures, Her strokys con discrye. Tho can Geffroune to lepe And said, “Gyve me that will not breke: A shaffte withoute cornall! This yonge frely freke Sytteth in his sadyll sete As stone in castell wall; I shall do him stoupe Ovyr his hors crowpe And gyve hym an evill falle: Though he be as wise wereour As Alysaunder or Kyng Arthur, Lawncelot or Syr Percevalle.” The knyghtis bothe twoo Redyn togeder thoo, With well grete rawndon; Lybeos smote Jeffroun soo That his shelde smote him froo Into the felde adowne. Then lowe all that ther was And sayde, withoute lees, Dukes, erle and baron, That never yette they seye A man that myght durye A cours of Syr Jeffroune. Geffoun toke his cours outeryght And was nyghe oute of his witte For he myghte not spede, And rode agene als tighte And Lebeous on the helme he hitte, As wolfe that wolde at wede. But Libeous sate so faste That Jeffroune downe caste Bothe hym and his stede: Geffrounes backe to-brake That men herd the crake Aboute in leynthe and brede. Than sayde all that ther weren That Jeffroun had ilorne The gentill jerfaukon; To Lybeous they hym bare And went, bothe lesse and more, With hym into the towne. Geffroun oute of the felde Was borne home on his shelde With care and reuthefull rowne; The gerfaukon isent was By a knyght that hight Cadas To Arthur, kynge with crowne. And wretyn alle the dede With him he can to lede The hauk tho Lybeous wan. Tho Arthure hard hit redde, To his knyghtis he sayde, “Lybeous well wer can! He hathe sent me with honour Of foure fightis the floure, Sethen he fyrst byganne. I will him send tresoure To spend with honour, As falleth for suche a man.” An hondered pounde honeste Of floreyns with the best He sent to Kardill towne. Ther Lybeous made a feste That forty dayes it leste, As lord of grete renowne; And at the six wokis ende They toke her leve to wende: Duke, erle, and baroune. Syr Lybeous and that may Tokyn her right waye Tawarde Synadowne. As they redyn by a lowe, Hornes herd they blowe. And huntynge grete of gile. The dwerf saide, in a thorowe, “That horne wele I knowe, For youre frely sale: Hit blowis motis jolelye, That servid sometyme my lady, Semely in hir sale. When she was takyn with gile, He fled for grete perile West into Wyralle.” As they redyn talkynge They sawe a rache com renynge Overthwerte the waye. Than said olde and yonge, From her first begynynge, Thay sawe never none so gaye: He was of all coloures That man may se of floures Bytwene Mydsomer and Maye. The mayde saide, alse snell, “Sawe I never no jowell So lykinge to my paye, “So that I hit aught!” Lybeous as tight it caught And toke hit the mayden clene. Thay ridden forthe all softe And tolde howe knyghtis faught For birdes bryght and shene. Ne had they redyn but a while, The mountence of a myle, In that forest grene, They sawe an hynde come strike And two grewndis like The racche that I of mene. They hovyd under a lyne And sawe the course of the hynde, Lybeous that was so fre. Then sawe they com behynde A knyght iclothed in jende Uppon a baye destré; His bugill canne he to blowe For houndis shulde him knowe In whate stede that he were. He seide to hem that throwe, “That racche do I owee, Agone is eight yere. Frendis, lettes him goo!” Lybeous answerd thoo, “That shall never betide: With myn hondis two I gave it the mayden me froo That hovith me bysyde.” Quod Sir Otis de Lile, “Thou puttist thee in grete perile, To bycker and thou abide.” Lybeous sayde, “Be Seint Gile, I ne gyf nought of thi gile, Chorle, though thou chide!” Quod Sir Otys de Lyle, “Syr, thi wordis ar wile, Chorle was never my name. My fader an erle was awhile, And the countesse of Carlehille, Forsothe, was my dame. Yf I were armed nowe, Redy as arte thowe, We shulden fight in same. But yf thow the racche levyn, Thowe pleyest, longe or evyn, A wondyr wilde game!” Quod Lybeous, also prest, “Therof, sir, do thy beste: The rache with me shall wende.” Thay token her way evyn west Into that faire forest, As the dwerf hem kende. Syr Otis, with grete errour, Rode home to his toure And after his frendis did send; And tolde hem anone rightis Howe one of Arthur is knyghtis So shamefully canne him shende; And his racche was inome. Than sware they, all and some, That traytur shulde ben itake And never agene home come, Though he were the grymmer grome Than Launcelet de Lake. They dighten hem to armes With swerdys and giyarnes, As werre that shulde awake. Knyghtis and squyers Leppyn on her desters, For her lordis sake. Upon an hill full hie Syr Lybeous ther he seye, Rydinge forthe pase by pase. To hym they con crye, “Traytor, thou shalt die, Todaye for thye trespace!” Lybeus ayene behelde Howe full was the felde, So mekyll folke that ther was. He sayde, “Mayde Ellyne, For this racche, Y wene, Me cometh a carefull case. I rede ye you withdrawe To the wode shawe, Youre hedis for to hide; For Y am frely fayne, Though Y shulde be slayne, Bekyr with hem to abyde.” Into the forest he rode And ther he boldly abode. As avauntors proude in pryde, With bowes and arblast, They shotten to him faste And made hym woundis wyde. Syr Lybeous stede ranne And bare downe hors and man, For nothinge wolde he spare. All men sayde than, “This is the devyll Satan, That mankynde will forfare.” For whomso Lybeous araught At his fyrst drawght, He slepte for evermore. But sone he was besette, As dere is in the nette, With grymly woundis sore. For twelve knyghtis, all prest, He sawe come oute of the west, In armys bryght and clere. Alday thay haden yrest And thoughtyn in that forest To slee Lybeous that knyght. Of sewte they weren all twelve, That one was the lorde himselve, In ryme to redyn aright. They smotyn to hym at onys And thoughten to breke his bonys And to fellyn hym in fyght. Tho myght men hire dynge And rounde rappis rynge, Amonges hem all in feere: The sparkylles conne to sprynge Forthe, witheoute lesynge, From sheld and helmes clere. Lybeous slowe of hem three, The fourthe begon to flee And durste nought neye him nere. The lorde lefte in the stoure And his sonnes foure, To syllen her lyves dere. Tho runne rappes ryffe: He one agaynes fyve Faughte as he were wode. Nye downe they con hym dryve; So watyr dothe off the skythe, Off hym ranne the bloode. Whan Lybeous was ney spilte, His swerde barst in the hilte: Than was he madde of mode. The lord a stroke he sete Throwe helme and basnett, That in the skolle hit stode. In swounynge he fel downe Upon his ferther arsoune, As man that was all mate. His fone weren full bownde To persyne his aketowne, Bothe mayle and plate. When he ganne sore to smerte, He pulled up his herte And sterryd up his state; An ax he hente him nyghe, That henge by his thighe: Almost him thought to late. Tho he steryd him as a knyght: Thre stedis adowne right He slowe at strokys three. The lorde sawe that in sight And of his stede he alyght: Away he began to flee. Lybeous no lenger abode But aftyr hym he rode. Under a chesteyne tree Ther he hadde him qwelled, But that the lorde hym yelde At his will for to bee, And, by certeyne stente, Tresure, londe and rentte, Castell, hall and boure, Lybeous therto assente, By forward so that he wente Unto Kynge Arthure And sayde, “Lorde of renowne, As overcome and prisowne, I am to thine honowre.” The lorde graunted his wille, Bothe lowde and stylle, And ladde him to his toure. Anone the mayden Ellyne With gentillmen fyftene Was ifett to the castell. She and the dwerffe bydene Tolden all the dedis kene Of Lybeous, howe it befell, And whiche persones foure He sent to Kynge Arthure, That he wanne fayre and wele. The lord was well blythe And thanked fele sythe God and Seint Michell That swyche a nobyll knyght Shulde with werre in fyght Wynne his lady free. To covere with mayne and myght, Lybeous a fourtenyght Ther with him canne lende. He did helen his wounde And made hym hole and sownde By the fowrtenyght ende; Than Lybeous and that maye Toke her right waye To Synadon to wende. The lorde, withoute dwellynge, Went to Arthur the kynge And for presowne hym yelde, And tolde him the begynnynge Howe suche a knyght in fyghtyng Wan hym in the felde. Kynge Arthur had gode game, And so had alle in same, That herde that tale ytolde. And chosyn hym prophytable, By knyght of the Rounde Table, To fyght with spere and shelde. Nowe rest we here a while Of Sir Otys de Lyle And tell we forthe oure talis, Howe Lybeous rode many a myle And sey awntours the while And Irlande and in Walys. Hytt befell in June, Y wene, Whan fenell hangeth al grene Abowte in semely saale; The somerys day is longe, Mery is the fowlis songe And notis of the nyghtyngale. That tyme Lybeous canne ryde Be a reveres syde And sawe a fayre cité With palys prowde in pryde And castelles high and wyde And gates grete plenté. He axed whate hit hight; The mayden sayde anone right, “Syr, I will telle thee: Men clepeth this Il de Ore, Here be fightis more; Ther is werr in every countré. For a lady of price, Roddy as rose on rice, This contré is in dowte; A gyaunt that heght Maugys, Nowhere his pere is, Hir hathe besett aboute. He is as blacke as pyche, Nowher is none suche Of dedis sterne and stowte; Whate knyght so passyth the bryge His armys he moste downe legge And to the gyaunte alowte. He is thirty fote on leynthe And myche more of strenthe Than other knyghtis fyve; Syr Lybeous woll bethynke thee That thou with him ne macched bee: He is gryme to discryve. He berreth on every browe As it were brystillus of a sowe; His hede grete as an hyve, His armys the lenthe of an elle, His fystis arne full felle Dyntys with to dryve.” Quod Lybeous, “Mayden hynde, My way nowe will Y wende For alle his strokys ylle. If God will me grace sende, Or this day come to ende With fight Y hoppe hym fell. I have sene grete okys Fallyn with wyndes and strokys, And the lytell stande full stille. Thoughe that Y be litell, To hym will I smyte, Let God do his wylle!” They roden forthe all three Tawarde that fayre cité That men calleth Ile Dolour. Maugys they con see Upon a bryge of tree, Bolde as a wilde bore. His shelde was blacke as pycche, And all his armour suche: Thre mawmentis therin wes, Of gold gayly gilte; A spere in honde he helde And his childe him before. He kryede to hym in spyte, “Sey, thou fellaue in white, Tell me whate arte thowe! Torne home agene tite, For thyne owne prophite, Yf thow lovyst thy prowe.” Lybeous sayde anone right, “Kynge Arthure made me knyght, To hym Y made avowe That I shulde never turne my backe; Therfor, thow devyll black, Make thee redy nowe!” Syr Lybeus and Maugis On stedis proude in prise Togeder redyn full ryght. Bothe lordis and ladyes Laynen in her toures For to se that syght; And praied to God bothe lowde and stille, Yf it were His swete wille, Save that Crysten knyght, And that fyl gyawnte That levyd on Turmagaunte This day to dye in fighte. Her shaftes borsten on sonder, Her dyntis ferd as thonder: The pecis canne of sprynge. Euche man had wonder That Lybeous ne had gon under At the fyrste begynnynge. They drewe swerdis bothe As men that were wrothe And gonne togedir dynge; Sir Lybeous smote Maugis soo That his shelde fell him froo And in the felde canne flynge. Maugis was qweynt and qwede And smote Lybeous stede on the hede And dasshid oute the brayne; The stede fell downe dede, Syr Lybeous nought sayde But stertt hym up agayne, And an ax hent ybowne That henge by his arsowne And stroke to hym with mayne Through Maugis stede swyre: He forkarve bone and lyre That the hede fell in the playne. On fote bothe they fyghte, Discryven no man myght The strokys betwis hem two; Bothe woundes they laughte, For they were unsaught And either other is foo. From the oure of pryme Tyll hit were evensonge tyme, To fyghtyn they were throo. Sir Lybeous thrested soore And sayde, “Maugis, thine ore! To drinke thou lett me goo. “And Y shall graunte thee Whate bone thowe aske of me, Swiche case if thee betide; For grete shame hit wolde be A knyght for thurste to slee, And no maner parfyte.” Maugis graunted his will To drynke all his fille, Withoute more dispite. As he lay on the banke And throw his helme dranke, Maugis smertly hym smytte That in the rever he flye fylle: His armoure every dele Was wette and evill ydight; But up he sterte as snelle And seyd, “Be Seint Michell, Nowe am Y two so light! Weneste thou, fendys fere, Uncristened that Y were Tylle Y sawe thee with sight? I shall for this baptyse Quyte well thi service, Thorough grace of God almyght!” Then newe fyght byganne: Eyther to other ranne And deltyn dyntes strange; Well many a gentilman And ladyes as white as swanne For Lybeous her hondys wrange; For Maugis in the felde Forkarfe Lybeous’ shelde Thorough dynte of armes longe. Than Lybeous ranne awaye There Maugis shelde laye And up he gan hit fange. And ran agayne to hym; With strokys sharpe and gryme Eyther other ganne assayle. Till the day was dymme Upon the watir brym Bytwene hem was bataylle. Lybeous was werreour wight And smote a stroke of myght Thorowe jepowne, plate, and mayle, Thorowe the shulderbone That his right arme anone Fell in the fled, saunce fayle. The gyaunte this ganne see, That he shulde slayne bee: He fledde with myght and mayne. Syr Lybeous after ganne tee With sterne stroky thre He smote his backe on twayne. The gyaunte ther belevyde; Syr Lybeous smote off his heved: Thereof he was fayne. He bare the hede into the towne; With a fayre processyoune The folke come hym agayne. A lady bright as floure, That men calleth la Dame Amoure, Resseyved him wele and fayre And thanked hym with honour That he was hir socoure Agayne that giaunte file. To chambyr she him ledys And did off all his wedis And clothed hym in palle, And profirde him with worde For to be hir lorde Of cité and castell. Lybeous graunted hir in haste And love to hir ganne caste, For she was bright and shene. Alas, she hadde be chaaste! For ever at the laste She dyde hym traye and tene. For twelve monthes and more As Lybeous dwelled thore He forgate mayde Elyne, That never he myght outebreke For to helpe to awreke Of Synadowne the qwene. For the faire lady Cowthe more of sorcerye Than other suche fyve; She made hym suche melodye Of all maner mynstralsye That any man myght discryve. Whan he sawe hir face Hym thought that he was In paradice on lyve; With false lies and fayre Thus she blered his eye: Evill mote she thryve! Till it befell upon a daye He mete Elyne that may Beside that castell toure; To hym than ganne she saye, “Knyght, thou arte false in thi laye Ageynes Kynge Arthure! For the love of o woman That mekyll of sorcery canne Thow doste thee grete dissehonour: My lady of Synadowne May longe lye in preson, And that is grete doloure!” Syr Lybeus herde hir speke; Hym thought his hert gan breke For sorowe and for shame. At a postsren isteke There he ganne outebreke Fro that gentyll dame, And toke with hym his stede, His shelde, his iren wede, And reden forthe all in same. Hir stywarde stoute and fayre He made his squyer: Jurflete was his name. They rodyn faste as they maye Forthe on her jornaye On stedis baye and browne; Till on the third daye They sawe a cité gaye: Men clepen hit Synadowne; With castelles high and wide And palysed proude in pryde, Worke of fayre facion; But Lybeous Disconyous Had wonder of that use That he saye men do in towne. Cor and fenne full faste, That men hade ere oute caste, They gadered ynne iwysse, Syr Lybeous axid in haste, “Tell me, mayden chaste, Whate betokeneth this? They taken in the goore That ar was oute yboore: Me thynketh they do amysse.” Than seyd mayde Ellyne, “Syr knyght, withoute wene, I tell thee whate hit is. “No knyght, for nesshe ne harde, Though he shulde be forfarde, Getteth here none ostell, For doute of the stywarde That hight Syr Lanwarde, Constable of that castelle. Go ryde into the castell gate And axe thine inne theratte, Bothe fayre and wele; And ere he do thi nede, Of justis he will thee bede, Be God and be Seint Michell! And yf he beryth thee downe His trumpetis shall be bowne Her bemes high to blowe; Then over all Synadowne Bothe mayde and garson This fen on thee to thorowe. To whiche lond that yowe wende, Ever to youre lyves ende, For kowarde thou worthe knowe; And thus may Kynge Arthure Lesyn his honoure For thyn dedis slowe.” Quod Lybeous als tite, “That were a foule disspyte For any knyght on lyve! To do Arthure prophyte And maketh that lady quyte Thedyr will Y dryve. Syr Gyrflete, make thee yare, To juste with thee will not spare, Hastely and blyve.” They reden forthe at the gate Right to the castell yate, With faire shaftis fyve. And axed ther ostell At that fayre castell For auntors knyghtis The porter faire and wele Lete hym yn full snell And axed him anone rightis Who was here governours; And they seid, “Kynge Arthure, Man of moste myghtis; Well of curtaysie And flloure of chevalyre To fellen his fone in fightis.” The porter prophitable To his lorde the constable Sone this tale tolde; And sayde, “Withoute fable, Syre, of the Rowne Table Ar comen two knyghtis bolde; That one is armyd full severe In roose rede armoure With thre lyons of goolde.” The lord was glad and blythe And sayde, also swythe, Justyn with hym he wolde. And bade hem make hem yare Into the felde to fare, Withoute the castell gate. The porter wolde not spare: As a greyhounde dothe to an hare To hem ranne to the gate And sayde anone rightis, “Ye auntrous knyghtis, For nothinge ye latte: Looke your sheldis be stronge And your shaftis longe, Soketys and vaumplate, And rydeth into the felde: My lord, with shafte and shelde, Will with you playe.” Sir Lybeous spake wordis bolde: “That is a tale ytolde Lykyng to my paye!” Into the felde they rode, And boldly ther abode As bestis brought to baye. Lambard sent his stede, His shelde, his iren wede: Hir tire was stoute and gaye. His shelde was asure fyne, Thre beer hedis therinne As blacke as bronde ybrent; The bordure of ermyne: Was none so quaynte a gynne Fro Carlile into Kentt; And of that silfe peyntoure Was surcott and trappoure, In worlde wherso he went. Thre squiers by hym ryde, Thre shaftis thei bare him myde To dele with doughty dynte. Tho that stoute stywarde That hight Sir Lancharde, Was armed to the ryghtis, He rode to the feldewarde As it were a lebarde, And ther abode thes knyghtis. He sette his shelde in grate: Almoste hym thought to late When he hym seigh with sightis. Lybeous rode to hym thare With a shafte all square, As man of moste myghtis. Ayther smote other in the shelde That the peces flowen in the felde, Sothe, withoute wene; Euche man to other tolde, Bothe yonge and olde, “This yonge knyght is kene!” Lambarte his cours outeright As werour oute of wytte, Fro ire and herte tene, And sayde, “Brynge me a shafte: Yf this knyght con his crafte, Right sone hit shall be sene!” Tho toke they shaftis rownde With cornelys sharpe ygrownde And reden with grete raundon. Eyther provyd that stownde To gyve other dethes wounde, With herte eger as a lyon. Lambarte smote Lybeous soo That his shylde fell him froo And in the felde fell adowne: So harde he hym hitte That unnethis hy myght sytte Upryght in his arsoune His schafte brake with power; Lybeous smote hym in the laynore On his helme so bryght: Pesawe, ventayle, and gorger Fly forthe withe the helme so clere, And Sir Lambarde upright Sate and rocked in his sadylle As a childe in his cradill, Withouten mayne and myght. Every man toke othir by the lappe And lowghen and couthe her handis clappe: Barowne, burgeys, and knyght. Syr Lambartt thought to juste bett: Another helme hym was yfett And a shafte unmete, And wan they togeder mette Eythir to other his shelde sette Strokys grysly and grete. Syr Lambartis shafte to-braste, And Lybeous shoved soo faste, In sadylles ther they sete, That the constable, Sir Lambertt, Felte over his hors backwarde, Withoute more beyete. Syr Lamberd was ashamed sore; Quod Sir Lybeous, “Wilt thou more?” And he answerd, “Naye! Sethe the tyme that Y was borne Sawe I never me beforne So rydynge to my paye. Be my trouthe my herte is thine: Thowe arte of Sir Gawynes kynne, That is so stoute and gaye. Yf thou shalt for my lady fyght, Welcome to me this nyght In sekyr and trouthe in faye!” Lybeous sayd, “Sekerlye, Fyght Y shall for thy ladye, By heste of Kynge Arthure; But Y ne wote wherfor ne whye, Ne who dothe hyr that tormentrye, To brynge hir in dolour; A mayde that was hir messanger And a dwerf brought me here, Her to socoure.” Lambarde sayde at that stownde, “Welcome, knyght of the Table Rownde, Be God and Seint Saveour!” And the mayden Elyne Was sen for with knyghtis kene By-for Sir Lambarde. She and the dwarfe bydene Tolde of the dedis kene That he did thedirwarde, And how that Sir Lybeous Faught with fele shrewes And hem nothinge spared. Tho were they all blythe And thanked God fele sythe, God and Seint Leonarde. Anone with mylde chere They sett hym to sopere With mekell gle and game. Lybeous and Lambard yfere Of aventours that ther were Talkeden bothe in same. Lybeous, withoute fable, Seyd, “Sir constable, Whate is the knyghtis name That holdeth in prisoune That lady of Synadon, That is gentyll a dame?” Quod Lambert, “Be Seint John! Knyght, sir, is ther none That durste hir away lede: Twoo clerkys ben hir foone, Fekyll of bloode and bone, That havyth ydoo this dede. They ar men of mynstrye, Clyrkys of nigermansye, Here arte for to rede. Irayne ys that o brother And Mabon is that other For whome we are in dred. “Iran and that Mabon Have made in this towne A paleys queynte of gynne: Ther nys erle nor baroun That bereth hert as a lyon, That durst come therin. Hit is by nygrymauncye Iwrought with fayreye, That wondir hit is to wynne; Therin lyeth in presowne My lady of Synadon, That is of knyghtis kynne. “Oftyn we hire hir crye: To sene hir withe none eye, Therto have we no myght. They do hir tormentyre And all the velenye And dreche hir day and nyght. This Mabon and Yrayne Have sworne her othe certayne To dethe they will hir dight, But she graunte hem tyll To do Mabones will And geven him hir right. Of all this kyngdome fayre Than is my lady ayre, To welde all with wynne. She is meke and bonoure, Therfor we ar in spere Luste they done hir synne.” Quod Lybeous Disconyous, “By the love of Jhesus, That lady shall Y wynne: Bothe Mabon and Irayne I shall hewen in the playne The hedys by the chynne.” Tho was no more tale In the castell, grete and smale, But souped and made hym blythe. Baronys and burgeyses fale Comyn to that semely sale For to listen and lithe Howe Sir Lambert had wrought And yf the knyght were oughte, His crafte for to kythe. They fownden hem sette in fere And talkynge at her sopere Of knyghtis stoute and stythe. Tho toke they ease and reste And lykynges of the beste In the castell that nyght. On morowe was Lybeous prest Of armes of the best: Full fresshe he was to fight. Lambarde lad him that gate To the castell yate And fonde it full upright. Further durste hym none brynge, Forsothe, withoute lesynge, Barowne, burgeys, ne knyght. But turned home agayne, Save Sir Jerflete his swayne Wolde with hym ryde. Lybeous swore, certayne, That he wolde see his brayne Yf he wolde lenger abyde. To the castell he rode And with Lambard abode, To Jhesus than they cryed He shulde hem send tidyngis glad Of hem that longe hadde Distroyed ther welthes wide. Syr Lybeaus, knyght curtays, Rode into the paleys And at the hall he alight; Trumpys, hornys, sarvysse, Right byfor that highe deys, He herde and saughe with sight, And amydd the hall floore A fyre well starke and store That tente and brende bright. Ferther in he yede And toke with hym his stede, That halpe him in his fyght. Lybeous inner ganne passe To beholde that place: The halys in the halle; Of men more nor lasse Ne sawe he body nor face Butt mynstralis cladde in palle. With harpe, lute, and roote And orgone noyse of note, Grete gle they maden all; With sotill and sawtery, Suche maner mynstralsye Was never within wall. Byfor euche mynstrale stode A torche bothe fayre and gode Itende and brente bright. Sir Lybeous inner yode To witten with egir mode Who shulde with hym fight. He yede into the corners To beholde the pilleres That semely was of sight, Of jasper and of fyne cristale, Iflorysshed with amyall, That was of moche myght. The dores weren of brasse, The wondowes all of glasse, Wrought with imagerye; The halle ypeynted was: Nowher none fayrer nas That he hade seyne withe eye. He sett hym on the deys: The mynstrales weryn in pees, That were so tryste and trye; The torchis that brent bright They queynte anone right: The mynstrellys weren awaye. The dorres and wyndowes all They betten in the hall As hit were dynte of thonder; The stones of the walle On hym conne they falle, And therof had he wonder. The deys began to shake, The erthe began to quake; As he sate therunder, The halle roofe unlyke And the vasure eke, As it wolde all in sonder. As he sate thus dismayed, He holde hymselfe dysseyved, Sertis, herde he nyghe; Thoo he was better apayde And to hymselfe sayde, “Yett Y hope to playe!” He loked into the felde And sawe, with spere and shelde, Men in armes twayne, In pured pure armoure Was lyngell and trappure, Wyth golde gaylye dight. That one rode into the hall And byganne for to call, “Syr knyght auntours! Suche case is nowe befall, They thou be knyght in palle Fyght thou moste with us! I holde thee qwaynte of gynne And thou that lady wynne That is so precious.” Quod Lybeous anone ryght, “Fresshe Y am to fight, By the helpe of Jhesus!” Syr Lybeous with gode will And into his sadyll gan skylle, A launce in honde he hente, And titely rode hem tyll, His fomen for to felle, Suche was his talent. Whanne thaye togeder smete, Upon her shelde hit sette, With sperys doughtely of dynte; Mabounes launce to-braste, Tho was he sore agaste And held hym shamely shent. And with that stroke fellowne Syr Lybeous bare Maboune Overe his hors tayle; For his hynder arson Brake and fell adawne Into the felde saunce fayle; And neygh he had him slayne, But there come Sir Irayne, In helme, hawbrek of mayle; So fresshe he was to fight, He thought anone righte Syr Lybeous to assaylle. Sir Lybeous was of hym ware, A spere to hym he bare And lefte his brother stille; Suche a dynte he yave thare That his haumbryk to-tare: That liked bi Irayne ylle. Her lawnses they borsten a-two, Her swerdys they drewen thoo, With hert grym and grylle; They con togeder fight, Eyther provid with right Other for to spyll. As they togedyr gan hewe, Maboune, the more shrewe, In felde up aroos; He herde and well knewe That Irayne yave dyntis fewe: Therof hym sore agroos. To hym he went full right To helpe to fellen in fight Lybeous of noble loose. But Lybeous faught with bothe, Though they weren wrothe, And kepte hymselfe close. Tho Yran sawe Maboune He smote strokys fellon To Sir Lybeous withe ire. That evyn he karfe a-downe, Byfor his forther arsowne, Lybeous stedys swyre. Lybeous was werreour slyghe And smote evyn to his thighe: He karfe bone and lyre; Ne halpe hym not his armour, His chawntementis ne his chambur: Downe fell that sory syre. Lybeous of his hors alight With Mabone for to fight, In felde bothe in feere. Swyche strokys they dight That sparkelys sprongen downe right From shelde and helmes clere; As they bothe togeder smytte, Her bothe swerdys mette: As ye may se hem bere. Mabon, the more shreweos, Forkarfe the swerde of Sir Lybeous Attweyne quyte and skere. Tho was Lybeous asshamed And in his harte sore agramed, For he had lorne his swerde, And his stede was lamed And he shulde be defamed To Arthur kynge his lorde. To Yrayne swythe he ranne And hente his swerde up thanne: Was sharpe on eche a syde; And ranne to Maboune right And faste they gonne to fight: Of love was ther no woorde! But evyr faught Maboune As hit were a lyoune Sir Lybeous for to sloo; But Lybeous karfe adowne His shilde with his fawchon, That he toke Irayne froo. In the right tale ytolde The lyfte arme with the shelde Awaye he smote alsoo; Than cryed Mabon hym tyll: “Thi strokys arne full ylle; Gentill knyght nowe hoo! Ay will yelde me to thee, In love and grete laughté, At thine owne wille, And that lady fre That is in my powsté Takyn Y will thee tille. For thorough the swerdis dynt My honde Y have itynte: The venym will me spille; I venymed hem bothe, Certeyn, withouten othe, Therwith oure fone to felle.” Quod Lybeous, “Be my thryfte, I will nought of thi yefte, For all this worlde to wynne; But lay on strokys swyfte: One of us shall other lefte The hede by the chynne!” Tho Mabon and Lybeous Faste togeder hewes And slaked not for no synne; Lybeous was more of myght: He clove his helme downe right And his hede a-twynne. Tho Mabon was slayne He ranne ther was Yrayne With a fawchoune in his fiste; For to cleve his brayne: I tell you for certayne, To fight more hym lyste! But whan he come there, Away he was ybore: Into whate stede he nuste. Tho sought he hym, for the nonys, Wyde in all the wonys: In trewthe well he truste. And whan he fonde him noughte He helde himselfe bekaughte And byganne to syke sore, And seide, in worde and thought, “This will be dere bought That he is fro me fare! He will with sorcerye Do me tormentrye: That is my moste care.” Sore he sate and sighte, He nuste whate do he myght, He was of blysse all bare. As he sate thus in halle, Oute at a stone walle A wyndowe fayre unfelde: Grete wondyr, withall, In his herte ganne falle And he sate and behelde. A worme ther ganne oute pas With a womanes face: “Yonge Y am and nothinge olde.” Hir body and hir wyngis Shone in all thynchis, As amell gaye and gilte. Hir tayle was mekyll unnethe, Hir peynis gryme and grete, As ye may listen and lere. Syr Lybeous swelt for swete There he sate in his sete, As alle had ben in fyre; So sore he was agaste Hym thought his herte tobraste As she neyhid hym nere. And ere that Lybeous wiste, The worme with mouth him kyste And clypped aboute the swyre. And aftyr this kyssynge Off the worme tayle and wynge Swyftly fell hir froo: So fayre, of all thinke, Woman, withoute lesynge, Sawe he never ere thoo; But she was moder naked, As God had hir maked: Therfor was Lybeous woo. She sayde, “Knyght gentyll, God yelde thee thi will My foon thou woldest sloo! Thowe haste slayne nowthe Two clerkys kowthe, That wroughten by the fende. Este, west, northe and sowthe, With maystres of her mouthe, Many man con they shende. Thorowe ther chauntement To a worme they had me went, In wo to leven and lende, Tyll I had kyssed Gaweyne, That is doughti knyght, certayne, Or some of his kynde. Syr, for thou savyst my lyfe, Castellys fyfty and fyve Take Y will thee till, And mysylfe to be thy wyfe, Styll witheoute any stryfe, And hit be Arthures will.” Lybeous was glad and blythe And lepte to hors als swythe And that lady stille; But sore he dradded Irayne For he was nought islayne, With speche lyste he do him spylle. To the castell Lybeous rode, Therfor the folke abode And beganne to crye. Syr Lybeous to Lambard tolde And to other knyghtis bolde Howe he hem thre ganne gye, And how Mabon was slayne And wounded was Irayne, Thorowe myght of Marye. And howe her lady bright To a dragon was ydight, Thorowe her chawnterye, And thorow the cosse of a knyght Woman she was aplight, A comly creature: “But she stode before, As naked as she was bore, And sayde, ‘Nowe am Y sure My fone thou haste slayne, Mabon and Yrayne: In pees thou dost me brynge.’” When Lybeous Disconyous Had tolde the stywarde thus, Bothe worde and endeng, A robe of purpyll riche, Pillured with pure grice, He sent hir on hyenge; Kerchewes and garlandis ryche He sent hir preveliche, A byrd hit ganne hir bringe; Whan she was redy dight She went with many a knyght To hir owne wonnynge. All the folke of Synadowne With a well fayre procession Her lady conne home brynge. When she was comen to towne, Of gold and stonys a crowne Upon hir hede was sett, And were gladde and blythe And thanked God fele sythe That hir balys were bett. Than all the lordis of dignité Did hir homage and fewté, As hit was dewe dette. And euche lord in his degré Gave hir yeftis grete plenté, When they with hir mett. Sevyn dayes they dide sojoure With Sir Lambert in the towre And all the peeple in same; Tho went thei with honour Taward Kynge Arthoure With mekyll gle and game; They thanked God with al His myghtis, Arthur and all his knyghtis, That he hade no shame. Arthur gave als blyve Lybeous that lady to wyfe, That was so gentill a dame. The myrrour of that brydale No man myght tell with tale, In ryme nor in geste: In that semely saale Were lordys many and fale And ladies full honeste. There was riche service Bothe to lorde and ladyes To leste and eke to moste; Thare were gevyn riche giftis Euche mynstrale her thriftis, And some that were unbrest. Fourty dayes thei dwelden And ther here feste helden With Arthur the kynge. As the Frensshe tale us tolde, Arthur kyng with his knyghtis bolde Home he gonne hem brynge. Sevyn yere they levid same With mekyll joye and game, He and that swete thynge. Nowe Jhesu Criste, oure Savioure And his moder, that swete floure, Grawnte us gode endynge. Amen. Explicit Lybious Disconyas.	(see note); (t-note) flower Help them in their Who listen; (see note) Intelligent; skillful warrior valiant; deed (see note) Begotten At the edge of the woods; (see note) [more] honorable Round; (see note); (t-note) tell of good-looking Noble; handsome illegitimate determination; (t-note) see (have contact with) wild; (see note); (t-note) violence; (t-note) companions; together fear of a wicked reputation worthy; beloved because; face named; Beautiful Son; (see note); (t-note) naive as far as I know What name his mother had given him; (t-note) Until one day (At that time) hunt deer; amusement found; where armor strong; beautiful Dead; fully subdued knight’s armor; (see note) Dressed himself; (t-note) done; in fact youth took himself; (see note) Where lived (see note) Christ; protect from a country far away appeal (request); (see note) outlandish (ignorant); (see note) from now; (see note) mirthful recognize; at once Tell; delay What is your name truly since Never saw I [anyone] in my presence [One] so handsome By; James; (see note) do not know naive for amusement Called; Beautiful Son; (see note) wondrous By; Denis; (see note) (t-note) knows not what he is called; (t-note) visage give gathered here together; (t-note) handsome; noble By called; mother Whoever she is Call; for practical purposes The Fair Unknown; (see note) more; understand in turn Certainly might he be called at once (t-note) On; very same Now [that]; (see note) (see note) foemen (enemies) test (assail); (see note); (t-note) (see note) boon; requested; (see note) noble would be; happy battle grant; your request you are too young From what discussion Washed; supper; (see note) Wildfowl; venison lords; renown Enough; eat Nor had; sat For a few minutes (t-note) [Before] there came; (see note); (t-note) dwarf; (see note) sweaty; heat maiden was called; (see note); (t-note) Noble; beautiful was neither countess; queen attractive; behold; (t-note) peer exquisite fabric; (see note) Full cut; skimpy Edged; white fur saddle; overlaid (with gold) covered destrier (riding horse); (see note); (t-note) indigo; (see note); (t-note) In front; (t-note) Strong; attractive; (see note) surcoat; richly worked; (see note); (t-note) beard; yellow; (see note) belt; hair; (see note) truth; certainty shoes; made caped showed; poverty Theodeley; (see note) Far and wide; (t-note) also Much; knew; entertainment Citole, psalter as well; (see note) fiddle; stringed instrument noble entertainer; (see note) bedchamber cheerful storyteller noble Now; your errand; (t-note) kneeled cause sorrow Snowdon; (see note) taken into Who; value; (see note) beseeches you send her war; (see note) win her [release]; (see note) (see note) heart hopeful; (t-note) undertake win; strength true oath witness; (t-note) give uphold; cause spear; sword; (t-note) object; (see note) time here sent Your edict Lost; honor reputation tarnished; (see note) stupid; churlish blow When you have; renown Perceval; Gawain; (t-note) proven in tournament; (t-note) anger Rightful king warrior hardship farthing Before; (Lady of Synadoun); (t-note) battles three; (see note) doubt fate (chance) afraid; (see note) fear of daunting words A little something; (t-note) been slain; (t-note) who flees drawn and quartered wind; be tossed (t-note) it is the law of the land;(see note); (t-note) immediately You will get; (t-note) [Christ]; redeemed worthy wherever rage; anger; (see note) drink nor eat no one disappointed; (t-note) taken away; (see note) together very place (see note) weapons whole; sound; arm [Lybeaus] immediately; (see note) Through river [Jordan]; baptized; (see note) [Lybeaus]; promises; (t-note) good champion defeat her foe in battle; (t-note) [Lybeaus]; eager; (see note) Gawain Perceval; (see note) Ywain Agravain; (see note) placed upon; (see note) surcoat; milk handsome; hall hauberk appointed links thick; small [Lybeaus’s] own father Hung; neck; (t-note) chevron (emblem); (see note); (t-note) helmet elaborately made not iron head; (see note) weapons; fight fine falchion; (see note); (t-note) Ywain; steed good in battle high-spirited; any lion mounted; (see note) gracious Give; your delay depart hand raised; (see note) gave courteous; just give aid; also lady; bondage [Elene]; strong; spirited; (t-note) horse Until perpetually Constantly she; complain; (see note) Fool, caitiff (wretch); (t-note) Although you Lost; honor before us keeps each; (t-note) reputation is well-known is called; (see note); (t-note) strength; stop warrior fearsome Through heart or; hip through Whoever opposes him Said strength smitten (unhorsed) whatever; betoken Against sit (remain mounted) rode on just purpose did gleaming in appearance bore a shield; (see note) lions; shining matching harness straps and saddle trappings; (see note) deliver; blows ever eager fair knight; (see note) Whosoever rides; (t-note) by necessity leave; weapons Said pass through far; friend uncharted way; go together then escape so [in this way] give before furlong to the west It will be no other way; (t-note) (t-note) prove your skill ready to go wait did energy instant deadly spear firmly; (t-note) stirrups broke As well as the back of his saddle slump hind quarters field jumped up quickly faith Never before; (t-note) Have I ever found; strong gone foot If; noble love willing clash falchions unsheathed fiercely Blows they delivered fire, truthfully helmet; basinet burst out did thrust shield high up;(see note) quickly himself warrior skilled; clever Barbel (chin protector) slip down on top shaved; beard (without cutting the skin) so powerfully burst in two saw plead (see note) It; villainy cause; to die Weaponless; place; (t-note) (t-note) mercy Unless you; oath Before you go hence (t-note) swear; falchion; (t-note) Arthur go; (see note) renown a vanquished sent me here you call; manner (see note) Unknown; lineage; (t-note) his knees dropped as he was told agreement from start to finish; (t-note) Something happened splendidly clad very sister’s sons freeborn who were enraged outcry Uncle has done are you bleeding so much by (t-note) is called; (see note) foeman has nothing to learn rides; before; (t-note) squire also a fair youth; (see note) one; grieves me sorely; (t-note) swear; (see note) Never stop must present myself defeated; field By his (Arthur’s) bear Neither shield nor spear promised avenged Certainly; fail against; three straw endure Go yonder; keep your oath formidable assail (attack) Before; passes through hauberk; tear apart; (see note) chain mail; Of this knew nothing; (see note) (see note) step by step together; (t-note) Sport; pleasure; (see note) “Forgive me” villainy of him forgave; (t-note) their squire together In the morning continued their journey Toward richly attired; (t-note) Caerleon; (see note) them turn around relinquish; reputation rip to pieces (lacerate) To that purpose them all of you at once confident in his ability spurred against; did ride; (t-note) In seriousness; not in sport close; (t-note) Gower’s thigh; (see note) ever after [Gower] groaned in pain rein saddle quickly Where Who; form laughed; (see note) chosen; champion middle; watched; (t-note) field lost directly broke in two lance head stuck firmly where it; driven [thrust] carried helmet eagerly; (t-note) strong fierce burn (see note); (t-note) Knock; (t-note) warrior in a battle frenzy deadly falchion strong; landed; (t-note) helmet; basinet; (t-note) It (his stroke) stuck; helmet Then grew; aggrieved (t-note) renewed vigor sword; waved around destroyed As if [he were]; crazy; (t-note) (t-note) One; against no fair slashed grim; (t-note) Staunchly against through God’s seized (t-note) very same left; burst in two; (t-note) with his own eyes neither strength nor courage; (t-note) cried for mercy You will not escape You; brothers two pledge; promise Arthur go renown [one] person; (t-note) sent me here surrender; tower under; rule unless; (t-note) slay Before nightfall two knights promised Their oath; pledge maiden Rode on (continued) their Where they had left off Until; third; (t-note) rode; leisurely conversation [farther] west knew not; for them gladly town; (t-note) groves built; lodge out of leaves; (see note) strong; (t-note) form all night; stayed awake; (see note) Their horses; stealth; (t-note) fear; shake fire Half a mile away may prepare yourself hear boasting; (t-note) smell; roasting Giles; (see note) hearty; bright; (see note) warhorse picked up drew near (t-note) giants; (see note) red; loathly; (see note) any pitch (i.e., tar); (t-note) Grisly; countenance (see note) clasped to; bosom briar; (see note) eagerly boar; did turn upon; spit burned screamed ceaselessly witness; (see note) live through devils forsaken It; worthy enterprise; (t-note) at the same time child’s play; (see note) terrible lance natural cunning just cause pierce lung; heart; (t-note) did rise Then fled (the Virgin Mary) succor together her took led; woods lodge; leaves good intentions beseeched; (see note) never would be overcome; (t-note) (see note) boar wild wolf; (see note) stroke; lethally steed; (t-note) went (fell) reacted instantly out of; saddle spark from a burning coal heart fierce pay back; reward;(see note) For a long time round [The giant’s]; burst; in two enraged tree; lifted; (see note) top broke; into three [pieces] worried [the giant]; tree lifted up gave from him place head; decisively found; (see note) (see note) likewise heads; (see note) carried them to happy; relieved many times [Lybeaus] Noble lady By father; great renown was once earl; gray-haired authority (see note) call; (see note) abducted From outside; a while back i.e., flower picking lying (truthfully) leapt; (see note) fire By him; violated Had God not sent aid [May] He give redeemed [Lybeaus and company] rode; together sorrow heads as a gift; (see note) much good cheer; celebration quickly arose reputation noble; (see note) [Lybeaus’s] good deed; (t-note) Gave; reward; (see note) armor maiden Confer; their Where; lodge secure (see note) built Beautifully; it (see note) crenellated towers By man conquered; force of arms laughed; lady Call for (t-note) grovel lady declared; (see note) Whoever brings; one gerfalcon; swan; (see note) reward as beautiful (see note 768) win cut off far and wide (see note) quickly Michael; (see note) lay claim to; falcon lady twice as beautiful; (see note) gaze upon or Noble yourself; danger (see note) secret stratagem beguile By Before; eastward city; mile reason ready win himself renown delay himself; completely armor Earl; (see note) began formidable palace sees morning galloping; (see note) hesitation [Jeffron] loud; did cry voice; shrill you; good at once Said; immediately false thing pure; (see note) lady by daylight form dressed up gerfalcon rightfully (t-note) shall prove rightfully Who; fairer soon (see note) in the midst of; (t-note) they (the ladies) [by those] bound; freeborn i.e., beautiful enough gerfalcon Joust quickly noon Michael From Carlisle Their gauntlets right there princes quickly hostel (guest quarters) would no longer stay it [told]; (see note) comely dress; herself presentable Jeffron’s lady; beautiful To the middle of clothes; comportment If you are; as beautiful must win; gerfalcon You are doing; uncouth act; (see note) You refuse counsel; (t-note) follow; irrational impulses lost; (see note) go Bethlehem; (see note) rather, by; James torn apart immediately; (see note) samite; (t-note) did she dress herself; (t-note) profit head coverings Decorated cloak Edged; gray squirrel fur neck circle (crown); head good saddle horse beautiful to look at marketplace stopped In the middle of they saw companions He (Jeffron) bore; red (gules); (see note) owls color scheme flowers trappings (decorations) carried lances sure lady; carried noble gerfalcon (see note) Dressed; cloth see; (t-note) refined cloak; exquisite Interspersed; ermine royal crown; head enamel figure complexion; red hair thread (wire) shining silk thread; (see note) Curved; length; breadth in proportion eyes who saw neck; thin beauty describes those chairs; marketplace Their beauties; display Immediately; doubt Among them; agreement Jeffron’s lady; beautiful stem; arbor I am not kidding (see note) Nothing but a laundress praise Declared hawk; lost; (t-note) (t-note) intent Joust bring head; falcon agreed upon defeat you go; (t-note) In spite of you, old man; (see note) With nothing more to say rode party [of knights] steel-tipped lances Each against hatred Their lances burst asunder; (see note) Their blows sounded like Drummers; trumpeters Heralds; raconteurs Their; did describe [a lance] a head noble man-at-arms; (see note) as firmly cause; to slump horse’s rump Alexander [the Great]; (see note) then energy so [forcefully] shield knocked away laughed all who were there lying earls; barons had they seen endure joust with started on his way at once nearly; mind That; succeed in a state of madness; (see note) sat so firmly [in his saddle] fell down with his horse back broke [so loudly] crack far and wide who were there lost him [the gerfalcon] carried shield; (see note) joyless lamentation; (t-note) named; (see note) that; won; (t-note) heard it (the story) recounted war (battle) (see note) prize Since treasure hundred pounds florins Carlisle; (see note) feast lasted; (t-note) end of six weeks their permission; go maiden Took up their former path Toward rode; hill; (t-note) craft quickly noble hall; (see note) hunting calls castle beguiled Wirral; (see note) rode [while] talking hunting dog; running; (see note) Across i.e., since they were born (see note) flowers; (see note) Midsummer; May; (see note) instantly jewel pleasure should have it quickly bore it to leisurely talked about ladies; beautiful distance [When]; doe; running greyhounds hunting dog; spoke waited; linden tree path; doe noble following indigo bay destrier bugle; began so that hounds where he was greyhound; own Gone for; years No! That shall never happen! Who sits beside me (see note) yourself bicker when you [should be] patient By care nothing of your guile Churl; complain; (see note) (t-note) your; are rash earl for a long time Carlisle mother Prepared; you are right now (together) Unless; leave the hound before evening reckless stance; (t-note) go They; their dwarf led them; (t-note) anger tower; (see note) (t-note) Arthur’s defy taken away swore [Otis’s friends] traitor should be more fearsome young man; (see note) armed themselves battle-axes As if they were going to war squires their warhorses their lord’s high they (Otis’s men) saw slowly trespass again field many Because of; hound serious problem strongly advise that edge of the forest heads Engage them in battle there; waited adventurers crossbows; (see note) charged bore; horse (see note) Who; betray whomever; struck blow i.e., was dead trapped [a] deer serious injuries ready for battle; (see note) All day; waited plotted slay Dressed in matching garb [Otis de Lyle] rhyme once intended hear hard blows together sparks began to fly truly slew; three of them; (see note) fourth began stay near abandoned; conflict (see note) sell their lives dearly i.e., mayhem ensued alone against; (see note) crazed Nearly overcame him As water does; scythe nearly done for broke; hilt enraged (see note) helmet with visor skull it stuck swooning front of his saddle done for enemies; fully intending pierce; armor chain mail; steel breastplate; (see note) began; hurt i.e., mustered his courage stirred; spirit had at hand was hanging it seemed to him too Then; aroused himself Three horses slew in three strokes dismounted waited chestnut; (see note) would have killed Except; yielded himself [Lybeaus’s] mercy prescribed amount assented sworn contract defeated; taken prisoner (i.e., subject myself) aloud; silently led; tower Soon noblemen fifteen led together Told; mighty deeds won fairly i.e., Arthur; grateful many times such recover; strength fortnight stay heal whole; sound end of the fortnight maiden Resumed their Snowdon; (see note) [Otis]; delay as a prisoner surrendered himself Conquered amusement; (see note) everyone there [Arthur] Who; honorably As (see note);(t-note) Before other stories took part in adventures; (see note) In Ireland; Wales It happened; I think; (t-note) fennel; (see note) sign of the season summer’s Merry; birds’ song notes; (see note) river’s palace splendidly built castles plentiful asked what it was called immediately you call; Isle of Gold; (see note) battles; (see note) war Because of; great excellence Ruddy (red); stem trouble called; (see note) equal blocked passage pitch [like him] Whichever; bridge lay down his weapons bow (pay homage) feet tall; (see note) stronger think carefully about Whether; matched each eyebrow bristles; sow a beehive i.e., forty-five inches fists are powerful Blows Maiden gracious; (see note) proceed Despite; strokes ill (evil) Before hope to slay him oaks winds; lightning little [trees] prevail Toward Isle of Sorrow; (see note) wooden bridge boar pitch too pagan idols; (see note) brightly gilded shield in front of him shouted; anger Hey you! what you are; (see note) Turn; immediately safety your well-being a pledge i.e., run away you devil Prepare yourself now (see note) splendidly arrayed rode purposefully are positioned; their towers aloud; silently vile giant worshiped; (see note) Their lances burst Their blows seemed like; thunder pieces; fly off Each spectator had not been killed very start angry to strike so [hard] from; (see note) did fly; (t-note) cunning; cruel horse; head; (see note) brain dead said nothing seized quickly; (see note) hung; saddle i.e., strongly horse’s neck severed bone and flesh head; field Describe Both scoffed at their wounds undaunted each is the other’s foe hour of prime (sunrise); (see note) evensong (vespers) relentless thirsted sorely have mercy; (see note) Let me take a drink grant Whatever boon you ask should the need arise it would thirst; slay acceptable assault [Lybeaus]; riverbank through (by means of) sharply; whacked river [Lybeaus] fell everywhere in bad shape quickly Michael twice as eager Did you think, fair friend baptism; (see note) Repay Each at the other delivered hard blows their hands wrung Sliced through; shield By strokes ran to Where it seized [Lybeaus to Maugis] Each the other began i.e., until dusk water’s edge [a] strong warrior great strength emblazoned surcoat; (see note) shoulder bone [Maugis’s] field; I kid you not began to realize; (see note) should be slain fled ran after him three hearty strokes in two remained head satisfied carried came to greet him (see note) with pomp and ceremony her champion Against that vile giant led took off; armor beautiful clothes asked her acceded to her wishes; (see note) radiant; lovely; (see note) Would that; had been chaste treachery; harm (see note) there forgot break away avenge queen [Dame Amoure] Knew five others [like her]; (see note) minstrelsy describe gazed at paradise on earth blurred; vision; (t-note) May misfortune befall her Until maid; (see note) began promise To one Who can do great sorcery yourself; dishonor for a long time; prison sorrow It seemed to him; heart would locked gate break away From; noble woman iron clothes (armor) rode away Her steward [Lybeaus’s] squire (see note) their journey light brown called it finely crafted what activity saw Carnage (corpses); filth (see note) took back inside asked does this mean bring in; waste; (see note) taken out before mistakenly doubt (t-note) whether weak or hardy exhausted by travel hospitality suspicion Who is called; (see note) Guardian ask yourself before; tends to your needs; (see note) jousts; demand defeats you Their blasts loudly maiden; boy garbage whichever; go coward; become known Lose quickly shameful disgrace honor; (t-note) free that lady prepare yourself joust rode forth to five lances asked [for] their hospitality; (see note) In adventurous immediately asked; very soon their lord; (see note) (t-note) flower; chivalry defeat; foes; battle; (t-note) honorable; (see note) overseer Soon No kidding Sir; (see note) impressively rose-red just as quickly Joust; them prepare themselves field; go Outside does; (see note); (t-note) adventurous forebear Spear guards; hand guard lance; shield i.e., joust That is what I want to hear pleasure waited beasts; bay (cornered) sent for armor attire; formidable azure; (see note) Three bear heads burnt coal ermine (see note) clever; device From Carlisle to Kent very same design Three squires lances; carried deliver strong strokes hearty steward; (see note) called Sir Lambert As if he; leopard waited lance rest too sharp (t-note) Either struck the other flew Truly, without doubt fierce changed course anger; hardened heart knows Then; (t-note) points sharply honed rode; energy strove fierce so [hard] from scarcely saddle [Lambert]; chin strap Collar, lower helmet; neckpiece excellent (see note) child; cradle strength [those watching]; sleeve laughed; their; clapped Barons, burgesses joust better fetched unequaled Each lance shattered where Fell benefit (see note) you have; (t-note) I never saw Such riding; pleasure You are; Gawain’s kin; (see note) Who security; faith Certainly promise (behest) know neither where nor why Nor who does her; torment cause her sorrow aid place By sent Before together deeds brave beforehand many villains did not refrain from assailing Then; happy repeatedly (see note) Soon; uplifted spirit invited; supper much joy; entertainment together Talked to each other lie knight’s Who holds noblewoman Who dares to lead her away Two clerics; foe False done; deed ministry Masters of necromancy; (see note) Their; counsel one; (see note) (see note) fear fortress cleverly engineered neither earl i.e., courage dares It; necromancy Built; fairy (enchantment) extraordinarily difficult it lies; prison Who; knight’s kin; (see note) hear her Though we cannot see her power torment villainy afflict (torture) their oath death; bring Unless grant; birthright kingdom fair heir oversee with honor (joy); (t-note) meek; good fear Lest; do her sin (rape her); (see note) set free cut down heads; chin Then [there]; serious talk Instead [they] supped; merry; (t-note) many noble dwelling learn fared skill; make known sitting together their supper hardy their desires prepared With weapons Fully rested open no others bring lying Baron, burgess, nor Except; servent i.e., dash his brains out stay any longer prayed them who happiness Sir; courteous; (see note) embattled city dismounted service at table in front of; high dais his own eyes in the middle of fire; powerful; intense gave out light went inward proceeded look around remote corners he saw no one Except; fine clothes; (see note) viol organ noise dulcimer (citole) In front of each Ignited; burning proceeded learn; great anticipation went pillars were beautiful to see crystal Decorated; enamel a mighty work images painted; (see note) none fairer was sat himself; dais silent; (t-note) reliable; excellent burned brightly suddenly went out disappeared pounded [if] it; a thunder blast amazement dais (see note) to split open vaulting (see note) pleased Still; fight two men refined unalloyed straps and trappings adorned adventurous Although; in fine clothing must clever; ingenuity If you [should] Ready did leap seized quickly rode to them foeman intent clashed their shields hearty; blow Mabon’s; shattered astonished thought himself shamefully humiliated felonious forced horse’s tail back of his saddle down without before eager immediately aware [Mabon] lying inert gave hauberk tore Iran did not like that Their lances; in two; (t-note) Their swords; drew though grim; fierce defeat began to strike blows villainous [of the two] strokes was very terrified [Iran]; defeat fame frenzied secure (protected) When murderous The front of the saddle horse’s neck a skillful warrior shoulder bone; flesh Neither did his armor help nor enchantments; charms (see note) (t-note) dismounted together delivered sparks shining Their villainous Utterly broke In two; cleanly Then sorely enraged lost injured fast seized (i.e., an understatement!) As if [he]; lion slay carved falchion from; (see note) left These stop! I will surrender loyally noble power; (t-note) through lost venom; kill; (see note) poisoned them Certainly; oath enemies; defeat your offer swift cut off head; chin slashed at each other consideration strength [Mabon’s] helmet in two When; (see note) where falchion cleave; brainpan wanted place he did not know for a long time dwelling places did not find [Iran] thought; to be deceived from me fled harm knew not bereft of happiness; (see note) uncovered arose dragon therewithin emerged (see note) woman’s (see note) wings Shimmered; ways; (t-note) enamel; gleaming mighty underneath wings hideous; terrifying; (t-note) learn sweltered; sweat seat on fire astonished would burst approached; near before; knew it dragon; kissed; (see note) grasped him; neck (see note) dragon’s tail from her things before like that mother naked (see note) distressed rewarded your enemies; would have slain You have defeated renowned conjured; fiend mastery; their words (magic, spell) did; destroy Through; enchantment dragon; transformed sorrow; live; remain Until; kissed Gawain; (t-note) valiant some [member]; kin because you have saved Give; to your wife Meekly; hesitation; (t-note) If it is Arthur’s; (t-note) swiftly as well dreaded; (t-note) not slain might he cause him [Lybeaus] to die; (see note) Where; people waited dealt with i.e., the Lady of Synadoun; (t-note) changed their enchantment kiss [Into]; changed (see note) (see note) enemies peace priceless cloth Trimmed; gray fur haste Headdresses; garlands privately lady-in-waiting prepared their; dwelling (see note) Their gemstones many times their sorrows; relieved fealty it; due to her each; according to; rank gifts aplenty sojourn together To joy; happiness eagerly; (see note) noble woman description rhyme; chronicle splendid hall numerous honorable least; also the greatest Each minstrel; earnings gratuitous (unpromised); (see note) dwelled [there] there held their feast romance brought them Seven years; lived together; (see note) i.e., the Lady of Synadoun (see note) Here ends Lybeaus Desconus