117ra]    5 10 117rb] 15 20 25 30 35 40 45 50 117va] 55 60 65 70 75 80 Nota 85 90 117vb] 95 100 105 110 115 120 125 130 118ra] 135 140 145 150 Nota 155 160 165 170 118rb] 175

¶ Bené soit Dieu omnipotent, Qe delivre d’enconbrement Ceux qu’en li ont affiaunce Par bone foi e dreite creaunce. Par moi, le di qe, l’ay provee. Gawein par noun su nomee. Dieu me salva par sa puissaunce De grant anuy e d’enconbraunce, Si vous dirroi bien coment. Ore escotez bonement.    Jadis voloi femme prendre Une pucele bele e tendre Qe mout estoit de grant belté. Devant totes l’avoi amee. De lui esposer fust trop somounz E conseillee des compaignoms Que femmes prises avoient E en sposailles viveient. Mout preyserent cele vie Pur moi trere a lur compagnie, Qu’il se puissent de moi gabber Quaunt yl me verrount repenter, Sicome eux meismes feseient. De lur affere se repenteient! Tant me mistrent en le oraille, E taunt preyserent esposaille, Qe je fu tot consillee M’amie aver esposee — E me aver mis en aconbraunce E tote ma vie en peysaunce!    Mes Dieu par sa merci Me salva, come eynz vous di. Par sa merci me salva, Par treis aungles qu’il m’envoia En une valoie come aloy Tot soul juer, come dirroi.    Coment les aungles furent nomez Q’a moi furent maundez: Pieres de Corbloi fust le premer Qe vint a moi come messager. Le secounde out noun Laurence, Honme de grant sapience. E le tierz compaignoun Johan ov la bouche d’or appelom. Treis aungles les nomay, Si vous dirroi bien pur quay: En seinte Escripture um puet lyre Qe aungel valt taunt a dyre, “Come cely qu’est bon messager, Que bone chose vint nouncier.” E bone chose ount nouncié, Ces trois aungles, pur verité, Quar par eux su eschapé Longe peyne la, merci Dé!    Pieres dit qe femme est frele, Ja ne soit ele si bele. Laurence dit que ele est chaungable, Fauce, fole, e movable. Johan dit qe ele est corousouse, Decevable, e orguillouse. Veiez ci povre comencement A doner honme bon talent! De femme prendre en esposaille N’est mie bon, je dy sauntz faille!    Pieres dit, “Qe femme prent, Yl se charge grevement, De tiel fees s’en est chargee Dount ja ne serra deschargee. Entre femme e soun marry — Par cel affere, ce vous dy — Qe c’est charnele compagnie. Quant le baroun ne puet mie Fere le si sovent Come la femme avereit talent, Donqe prent, a grant honeysoun, Un ou deus desouz soun baroun (Ou assez plus, par aventure) Pur estauncher cel ordure. E uncore, sachez vous, Ja ne soit il si prous, Ne la puet assez trover A soun talent de cel mester. Bien puet estre lasse devendra, Mes jamés saulee ne serra. Pur ce, Gaweyn, fetez que sage, Gardez vous de tiel outrage!” Pieres sa resone ad fyny, Qe bien est digne d’estre oy, E pri qe um ly vueill entendre E sa resoun de rien mesprendre.    Ore vint avaunt Laurence, E sa resone issi comence: “Femme est fole e trop legere, De fol semblant e fole chere, Trop variable e trop coveitaunt, Meinte chose desirraunt. Quar si le baroun ne puet Trover la quanqe ele veut, Meintenaunt se dorra A un que trover la porra. Riche atyr, noble vesture, Bele robe ov riche pelure — Coment qu’il aile, force ne fet For que ele eit son pleisir tret. Dieu, quel dolour e damage Avient sovent de mal mariage! Pur ce, Gaweyn, bel douz amy, Seiez avysé e garni: De femme prendre ne le fetes mye! Dont, serrez sages, quei qe um en dye.”         E Johan, le tierz compaignoun, Ore comence sa resoun: “Certes,” fet il, “mariage Est la plus haute servage Qe soit pur honme qe vit; Car il n’avera jamés respit, Nient plus qe le buef joynt En la charue, qu’est point Sovent d’aguilloun agu, Sovent maldit e feru. Tot ensi ce veiomz nous Avient del cheytif um espous: Si tous jours ne soit traveillant, Eynz e hors purchassaunt, Sa femme sovent ly poindra De le aguilloun qe ele a — C’est la lange trop legere De mesdire, e trop amere! Meintefoiz serra tencé, Mesdit, hounie, e ledengee. Tant l’orra mesdire e tencer Qu’il ne savera quel part torner! ‘Allas’ fet il, ‘qe unqe fu mary!’ ‘Allas’ fet ele, ‘qe unque vous vy!’ ‘Allas’ fet yl, ‘que su vyfs!’ ‘Allas’ fet ele, ‘qe unqe vous pris!’ Allas’ de sa, ‘allas’ de la — Ou qu’il tourne, ‘allas’ y a! Mes coment qu’il ‘allas’ en die, Yl ne puet eschaper mye. Soffryr ly covient cele peyne Tous les jours de la symeygne. Bien, dust estre, par resoun, Sire e seigneur de la mesoun, Mes ele velt la seignurye Tot aver e la mestrye. E, ov ce, le hounte sourt, Car ele tence sovent e plourt, E le prodhonme leve sus, Si s’en va hors a le hus, E soule la lesse covenyr, Fere e dire soun pleysyr. Femme, plue, fumé, e tensoun Enchacent honme de sa mesoun. De tote peynes, la plus amere Est mort en sa manere, Mes male femme a soun tort Est pluz cruele qe la mort. Car mort passe en poi de ure, E femme est languor qe trop dure! Mieux valsist par temps morir Qe longement al col languyr. Languir covent, verroiment, Qe male femme a compaigne prent! Pur ce, Gaweyn, fetes qe sage. Gardez vous de mal mariage!”    Quant ces trois ount parlé E moi ensi councylé, Je respoundy brevement, “Bels seigneurs, e je consent.” Tot ensi su eschapé Longe peyne, merci Dé!    En le noun de le Piere e de le Fis E de le seintz Espyritz, A cui honour e gloire apent, Sauntz fyn e sauntz comencement, Sicome est, fust, e serra, En le siecle qe tous jours durra.

¶ Blessed be God omnipotent, Who delivers from hardship Those who trust in him With good faith and right belief. For myself, I affirm, I’ve experienced it.      Gawain am I called by name. God saved me by his power From great trouble and hardship, And I’ll tell you exactly how. Now listen kindly.    Once I wanted to take a wife A fair and tender maiden Who was extremely beautiful. I had loved her above all others. To marry her I was pressured And advised by friends Who had taken wives And lived in wedlock. They highly praised that life In order to draw me into their company, So that they could mock me When they’d see me repent, Just as they themselves had done. They repented of their deed! So much did they make me listen, And so highly praised wedlock, That I was wholly determined To marry my love — To place myself in servitude And all my life in heaviness!    But God in his mercy Saved me, as I’ve just told you. He saved me by his mercy, By means of three angels he sent to me In a valley as I traveled All by myself to play, as I shall recount.    [Here’s] how were named the angels Who were sent to me: Peter of Corbeil was the first Who came to me as a messenger. The second had the name Lawrence, A man of great wisdom. And the third companion We call John of the golden mouth. I’ve called them three angels, And I’ll tell you exactly why: In Holy Scripture one can read That angel is as much as to say, “He who’s a good messenger, Who’s come to announce a good thing.” And a good thing they’ve announced, These three angels, in truth, For by them I’ve escaped Long suffering there, thank God!    Peter says that woman is frail, However beautiful she may be. Lawrence says that she’s fickle, False, foolish, and unsteady. John says that she’s wrathful, Deceptive, and proud. Here’s a poor beginning To give a man courage! Taking a woman in marriage Is not at all good, I affirm without doubt!    Peter says, “Whoever takes a wife, He burdens himself grievously, He’s charged with a load Of which he’ll never be unburdened. Between a wife and her husband — Of this business, I tell you this — It’s fleshly companionship. When the husband cannot Do it as often As the wife desires, Then she takes, very shamefully, One or two lower than her husband (Or many more, perhaps) To staunch this filth. Moreover, as you know, Be he ever so worthy, He can’t for her muster enough For her desire in this office. It may well be she’ll grow tired, But never will she be sated. Therefore, Gawain, act wisely, Guard yourself against such excess!” Peter has finished his argument, Which is worthy of being heard, And I pray people will want to heed him And not mistake his argument at all.    Now Lawrence comes forward, And thus begins his argument: “Woman is silly and too shallow, Of silly looks and silly bearing, Too variable and too greedy, Desiring many things. For if the husband cannot Provide whatever she wants, Quickly she’ll give herself To one who can get it for her. Rich attire, noble clothing, A beautiful robe with rich fur — However it goes, she makes no fuss So long as she gets her pleasure. God, what suffering and harm Often comes of a bad marriage! Therefore, Gawain, dear sweet friend, Be advised and warned: Don’t take a wife at all! In this, you’ll be wise, whatever people say.”    And John, the third companion, Now begins his argument: “Certainly,” he says, “marriage Is the greatest servitude That exists for living man; For he’ll never have rest, No more than the ox yoked To the plow, which is poked Often by the sharp goad, Often cursed and beaten. Exactly thus do we see it Happen to the wretched married man: If he’s not always exerting himself, Running after things inside and out, His wife frequently prods him With the goad that she’s got — It’s the tongue ever ready With curses, and too bitter! Often he’ll be contradicted, Cursed, shamed, and slandered. He’ll hear her curse and argue so much That he won’t know which way to turn! ‘Alas,’ says he, ‘that ever I was married!’ ‘Alas,’ says she, ‘that ever I saw you!’ ‘Alas,’ says he, ‘that I’m alive!’ ‘Alas,’ says she, ‘that ever I took you!’ ‘Alas’ here, ‘alas’ there — Wherever he turns, there’s an ‘alas’! But however much he says ‘alas,’ He’s not able at all to escape. He must suffer that torment Every day of the week. Certainly, he ought to be, by rights, Lord and master of the house, But she wants entirely to have The lordship and the mastery. And, with this, the shame begins, For she argues often and weeps, And the good man gets up, Then goes out by the door, And leaves the decision to her alone, To do and speak as she wishes. Woman, rain, smoke, and argument Drive a man out of his house. Of all torments, the most bitter Is death in its way, But a bad wife by her wrongdoing Is more cruel than death. For death passes in a little while, And a wife is disease that lasts too long! It would be better to die quickly Than hang by the neck a long time. He must suffer, truly, Who takes a bad woman for a mate! Therefore, Gawain, act wisely. Watch out for a bad marriage!”    When these three had spoken And advised me in this manner, I answered briefly, “Good lords, I consent.” In this way I completely escaped Long-lasting pain, thank God!    In the name of the Father and the Son And the Holy Ghost, To whom honor and glory belong, Without end and without beginning, Just as it is, was, and ever shall be, In the world that will last forever.

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