5 10 15 20 fol. 60r 25 30 35 40 45 50 55 60 65 70 fol. 60v 75 80 85 90 95 100 105 110 115 120 125 fol. 61r 130 135 140 145 150 155 160 165 170 175 180 fol. 61v 185 190 195 200 205 210 215 220 225 230 235 fol. 62r    240 245 250 255

All that wyll of solas lere, Herkyns now and ye schall here —      And ye kane understond — Of a bowrd I wyll you schew, That ys full gode and trew,      That fell sometyme in Ynglond. Kynge Arthour was of grete honour, Of castellus and of many a toure,      And full wyde yknow; A gode ensample I wyll you sey, What chanse befell hym onne a dey —      Herkyn to my saw. Cokwoldys he lovyd, as I you plyght; He honouryd them both dey and nyght,      In all maner of thyng. And as I rede in story, He was kokwold sykerly —      For sothe it is no lesyng. Herkyngys sires what I sey: Here may ye here solas and pley,      If ye wyll take gode hede. Kyng Arthour had a bugyll horn That ever more stod hym beforn,      Were so that ever he yede. For when he was at the bord sete, Anon the horne schuld be fette,      Therof that he myght drynke. For myche crafte he couth therby, And ofte tymes the treuth he sey;      Non other couth he thynke.1 If any cokwold dryke of it, Spyll he schuld withouten lette;      Therfor thei were not glade. Gret dispyte thei had therby, Because it dyde them vilony      And made them oft tymes sade. When the kyng wold hafe solas, The bugyll was fett into the plas      To make solas and game. And than changyd the cokwoldys chere; The kyng them callyd ferre and nere,      Lordyngys by ther name. Than men myght se game inowghe, When every cokwold on other leughe,      And yit thei schamyd sore. Wherever the cokwoldys were sought, Befor the kyng thei were brought,      Both lesse and more. Kyng Arthour than, verament, Ordeynd throw hys awne assent —      Soth as I yow sey — The tabull dormounte withouten lette; Therat the cokwoldys were sette      To have solas and pley. For at the bord schuld be non other Bot every cokwold and hys brother —      To tell treuth I must nedys. And when the cokwoldys were sette, Garlandys of wylos schuld be fette,      And sett upon ther hedys. Of the best mete, withoute lesyng, That stode on bord befor the kyng,      Both ferr and nere, To the cokwoldys he sente anon, And bad them be glad everychon,      For his sake make gode chere. And seyd, “Lordyngys, for your lyves, Be never the wrother with your wyves,      For no maner of nede. Of woman come duke and kyng, I yow tell without lesyng;      Of them com owre manhed.” So it befell, serteynly, The Duke of Gloseter com in hyghe      To the courte with full gret myght. He was reseyved at the kyngys palys With mych honour and grete solas,      With lordys that were wele dyght. With the kyng ther dyde he duell, Bot how long I can not tell:      Therof knaw I non name. Of Kyng Arthour a wonder case, Frendys, herkyns how it was,      For now begynnes game. Uppon a dey, withouten lette, The duke with the kyng was sette      At mete with mykell pride. He lukyd abowte wonder faste, Hys syght on every syde he caste      To them that sate besyde. The kyng aspyed the erle anon, And fast he lowghe the erle upon,      And bad he schuld be glad. And yit for all hys grete honour, Cokwold was kyng Arthour,      Ne galle non he hade. So at the last the duke he brayd, And to the kyng this wordys spake —      He myght no lenger forbere — “Syr, what hath this men don, That syche garlondys thei were upon?      That skyll wold I lere.” The kyng seyd the erle to, “Syr, none hurte thei have do,      For this was thrught a chans. Sertys, thei be fre men all, For non of them hath no gall;      Therfor this is ther penans. “Ther wyves hath be merchandabull, And of ther ware compenabull;      Me thinke it is non herme. A man of lufe that wold them crave, Hastely he schuld it have,      For thei couth not hym wern. “All ther wyves, sykerlyke, Hath usyd the baske fysyke      Whyll thes men were oute. And oft thei have draw that draught. To use wele the lecherus craft,      With rubyng of ther toute. “Syr,” he seyd, “now have I redd, Ete we now and make us glad,      And every man fle care.” The duke seyd to hym anon, “Than be thei cokwoldys everychon?”      The kyng seyd, “Hold thee there.” The kyng than, after the erlys word, Send to the cokwoldys bord      To make them mery amonge All maner of mynstralsy To glad the cokwoldys by and by,      With herpe, fydell, and song. And bad them take no greffe, Bot all with love and with leffe,      Every man with other. For after mete, without distans, The cokwoldys schuld together danse,      Every man with hys brother. Than began a nobull game: The cokwoldys together came,      Befor the erle and the kyng. In skerlet kyrtells every one, The cokwoldys stodyn everychon,      Redy unto the dansyng. Than seyd the kyng in hye, “Go fyll my bugyll hastely,      And bryng it to my hond. I wyll asey with a gyne All thes cokwold that here is in;      To knaw them wyll I found.” Than seyd the erle, “For charyté, In what skyll, tell me,      A cokwold may I know?” To the erle the kyng ansuerd, “Syr, be my hore berd,      Thou schall se within a throw.” The bugull was brought the kyng to hond. Than seyd the kyng, “I understond      Thys horne that ye here se, There is no cokwold fer ne nere Hereof to drynke hath no power,      As wyde as Crystianté. “Bot he schall spyll on every syde, For any cas that may betyde,      Schall non therof avanse.” And yit for all hys grete honour, Hymselfe noble Kyng Arthour      Hath forteynd syche a chans. “Syr Erle,” he seyd, “take and begyn.” He seyd, “Nay, be Seynt Austyn,      That were to me vylony. Not for all a reme to wyn Befor you I schuld begyn,      For honour of my curtassy.” Kyng Arthour ther he toke the horn, And dyde as he was wont beforn,      Bot ther was yit gon a gyle. Bot he wend to have dronke of the best, Bot sone he spyllyd on hys brest,      Within a lytell whyle. The cokwoldys lokyd yche on other, And thought the kyng was there awne brother,      And glad thei were of that. “He hath us scornyd many a tyme And now he is a cokwold fyne,      To were a cokwoldys hate.” The quene was therof schamyd sore; Sche changyd hyr colour lesse and more,      And wold have ben awey; Therwith the kyng gan hyr behold, And seyd he schuld never be so bold      The soth agene to sey. “Cokwoldys no more I wyll repreve, For I ame one and aske no leve,      For all my rentys and londys. Lordyngys, all now may ye know That I may dance in the cokwold row      And take you by the handys.” Than seyd thei all at a word That cokwoldys schuld begynne the bord,      And sytte hyest in the halle. “Go we, lordingys, all same, And dance to make us gle and game,      For cokwoldys have no galle.” And after that sone anone, The kyng causyd the cokwoldys ychon      To wesch, withouten les. For ought that ever may betyde, He sett them by hys awne syde,      Up at the hyghe dese. The kyng hymselff a garlond fette; Uppon hys hede he it sette,      For it myght be non other. And seyd, “Lordyngys, sykerly, We be all of a freyry:      I ame your awne brother. “Be Jhesu Cryst that is aboffe, That man aught me gode loffe      That ley by my quene. I were worthy hym to honour, Both in castell and in towre,      With rede skerlyt and grene. “For he me helpyd when I was forth To cher my wyfe and make her myrth,      For women lovys wele pley. And therfor, syrys, have ye no dowte, Bot many schall dance in the cokwoldys rowte,      Both by nyght and dey. “And therfor, lordyngys, take no care: Make we mery, for nothing spare,      All brether in one rowte.” Than the cokwoldys were full blythe, And thankyd God a hundred syth,      For soth withouten doute. Every cokwold seyd to other, “Kyng Arthour is owr awne brother;      Therfor we may be blyth.” The Erle of Glowsytour, verament, Toke hys leve and home he wente,      And thankyd the kyng fele sythe. Kyng Arthour left at Skarlyon, With hys cokwoldys everychon,      And made both gam and gle. A knyght ther was, withouten les, That servyd at the kyngys des:      Syr Corneus hyght he. He made this gest in hys gam, And namyd it after hys awne name,      In herpyng or other gle. And after nobull Kyng Arthour Lyved and dyghed with honour,     As many hath don senne, Both cokwoldys and other mo. God gyff us grace that we may go     To hevyn. Amen, Amen.

entertainment hear; (see note) Listen If joke; tell happened once known example (story, lesson) Listen; story Cuckolds; promise (t-note) (see note) truly In truth it is no lie Listen entertainment (see note) That always stood before him Wherever he went at the table fetched much skill (tricks) he knew saw should drink without fail shame dishonor upset brought into [that] place Gentlemen enough laughed [were] shamed sorely truly Commanded by his own decision Truly as I tell you    permanent (fixed) table without fail; (see note) seated table; (t-note) I must seated willows; fetched; (see note) food; lying (i.e., in truth) on [the] table commanded; everyone Gentlemen angrier reason [Born] from woman manhood solemnly; (see note) arrayed no information a remarkable event without fail great looked about very intently earl; (see note) laughed commanded Nor did he have any courage to resist spoke up (exclaimed) (see note) stay silent these men upon [their heads] reason; learn on account of a chance [event] Certainly ready for business (cheap); (see note) generous of their wares It seems to me no harm could not refuse him certainly bitter (strong) medicine; (see note) these men poured that potion lechers’ art; (see note) buttocks explained each of them Be still table willingly Each [should act] to each other hesitation (t-note) scarlet tunics; (t-note) stood each one of them at once discover with a device endeavor With what method hoary (white) beard see in a moment Who has any power to drink from it fail No matter what shall happen No one shall be successful Has encountered such a fate by Saint Augustine dishonor realm to win accustomed to before; (see note) a trick Although he thought [Suited] to wear a cuckold’s hat sorely shamed To speak against the truth ask no permission (exception) at once (in unison) begin the table (be seated foremost) together no courage to resist an affront each one; (t-note) To wash, in truth; (see note) No matter what happened dais (high table) fetched Because it could not be otherwise certainly brotherhood owes me good love I would be worthy to honor him red and green [clothes] when I was away make mirth [for] her sirs company for nothing hold back brothers in one company times truly (t-note) many times remained at Caerleon; (see note) each one dais Sir Corneus was his name; (see note) this story (t-note) performance; (see note) afterwards since (see note)