Havelok the Dane

Herkneth to me, gode men — Wives, maydnes, and alle men — Of a tale that ich you wile telle, Wo so it wile here and therto dwelle. line5The tale is of Havelok imaked: Whil he was litel, he yede ful naked. Havelok was a ful god gome — He was ful god in everi trome; He was the wicteste man at nede line10That thurte riden on ani stede. That ye mowen now yhere, And the tale you mowen ylere, At the biginnig of ure tale, Fil me a cuppe of ful god ale; line15And wile drinken, her I spelle, That Crist us shilde alle fro helle. Krist late us hevere so for to do That we moten comen Him to; And, witthat it mote ben so, line20Benedicamus Domino! Here I schal biginnen a rym; Krist us yeve wel god fyn! The rym is maked of Havelok — A stalworthi man in a flok. line25He was the stalwortheste man at nede That may riden on ani stede.

It was a king bi are dawes, That in his time were gode lawes He dede maken and ful wel holden; line30Hym lovede yung, him lovede holde — Erl and barun, dreng and thayn, Knict, bondeman, and swain, Wydues, maydnes, prestes and clerkes, And al for hise gode werkes. line35He lovede God with al his micth, And Holy Kirke, and soth ant ricth. Ricthwise men he lovede alle, And overal made hem for to calle. Wreieres and wrobberes made he falle line40And hated hem so man doth galle; Utlawes and theves made he bynde, Alle that he micte fynde, And heye hengen on galwe-tre — For hem ne yede gold ne fee! line45In that time a man that bore Wel fifty pund, I wot, or more, Of red gold upon hiis bac, In a male with or blac, Ne funde he non that him misseyde, line50Ne with ivele on hond leyde. Thanne micthe chapmen fare Thuruth Englond wit here ware, And baldelike beye and sellen, Overal ther he wilen dwellen — line55In gode burwes and therfram Ne funden he non that dede hem sham, That he ne weren sone to sorwe brouth, And pouere maked and browt to nouth. Thanne was Engelond at hayse — line60Michel was swich a king to preyse That held so Englond in grith! Krist of hevene was him with — He was Engelondes blome. Was non so bold louerd to Rome line65That durste upon his bringhe Hunger ne here — wicke thinghe. Hwan he fellede hise foos, He made hem lurken and crepen in wros — The hidden hem alle and helden hem stille, line70And diden al his herte wille. Ricth he lovede of alle thinge — To wronge micht him noman bringe, Ne for silver ne for gold, So was he his soule hold. line75To the faderles was he rath — Wo so dede hem wrong or lath, Were it clerc or were it knicth, He dede hem sone to haven ricth; And wo dide widuen wrong, line80Were he nevre knicth so strong, That he ne made him sone kesten In feteres and ful faste festen; And wo so dide maydne shame Of hire bodi or brouth in blame, line85Bute it were bi hire wille, He made him sone of limes spille. He was the beste knith at nede That hevere micthe riden on stede, Or wepne wagge or folc ut lede; line90Of knith ne havede he nevere drede, That he ne sprong forth so sparke of glede, And lete him knawe of hise hand dede, Hu he couthe with wepne spede; And other he refte him hors or wede, line95Or made him sone handes sprede And “Louerd, merci!” loude grede. He was large and no wicth gnede. Havede he non so god brede Ne on his bord non so god shrede, line100That he ne wolde thorwit fede Poure that on fote yede, Forto haven of Him the mede That for us wolde on Rode blede — Crist, that al kan wisse and rede line105That evere woneth in any thede.

The king was hoten Athelwold. Of word, of wepne, he was bold. In Engeland was nevre knicth That betere held the lond to ricth. line110Of his bodi ne havede he eyr Bute a mayden swithe fayr, That was so yung that sho ne couthee Gon on fote ne speke wit mouthe. Than him tok an ivel strong, line115That he wel wiste and underfong That his deth was comen him on And saide, “Crist, wat shal I don? Louerd, wat shal me to rede? I wot ful wel ich have mi mede. line120Hw shal now my douhter fare? Of hire have ich michel kare; Sho is mikel in my thouth — Of meself is me rith nowt. No selcouth is thou me be wo: line125Sho ne can speke ne sho kan go. Yif scho couthe on horse ride, And a thousande men bi hire syde, And sho were comen intil helde And Engelond sho couthe welde, line130And don hem of thar hire were queme, And hire bodi couthe yeme, Ne wolde me nevere ivele like, Ne though ich were in heveneriche.”

Quanne he havede this pleinte maked, line135Therafter stronglike quaked. He sende writes sone onon After his erles evereichon; And after hise baruns, riche and poure, Fro Rokesburw al into Dovere, line140That he shulden comen swithe Til him, that was ful unblithe, To that stede ther he lay In harde bondes nicth and day. He was so faste wit yvel fest line145That he ne mouthe haven no rest, He ne mouthe no mete hete, Ne he ne mouchte no lythe gete, Ne non of his ivel that couthe red — Of him ne was nouth buten ded.

line150Alle that the writes herden Sorful and sori til him ferden; He wrungen hondes and wepen sore And yerne preyden Cristes hore — That He wolde turnen him line155Ut of that yvel that was so grim. Thanne he weren comen alle Bifor the king into the halle, At Winchestre ther he lay, “Welcome,” he sayde, “be ye ay! line160Ful michel thank kan I you That ye aren comen to me now.”

Quanne he weren alle set, And the king aveden igret, He greten and gouleden and gouven hem ille, line165And he bad hem alle been stille And seyde that greting helpeth nouth, “For al to dede am ich brouth. Bute now ye sen that I shal deye, Now ich wille you alle preye line170Of mi douther, that shal be Yure levedi after me, Wo may yemen hire so longe, Bothen hire and Engelonde, Til that she be wman of helde line175And that she mowe hir yemen and welde?” He answereden and seyden anon, Bi Crist and bi Seint Jon, That th erl Godrigh of Cornwayle Was trewe man wituten faile, line180Wis man of red, wis man of dede, And men haveden of him mikel drede — “He may hire altherbest yeme, Til that she mowe wel ben quene.”

The king was payed of that rede. line185A wol fair cloth bringen he dede, And thereon leyde the messebok, The caliz, and the pateyn ok, The corporaus, the messe-gere. Theron he garte the erl swere line190That he sholde yemen hire wel, Withuten lac, wituten tel, Til that she were twelf winter hold And of speche were bold, And that she couthe of curteysye, line195Gon and speken of lovedrurye, And til that she loven muthe Wom so hire to gode thoucte; And that he shulde hire yeve The beste man that micthe live — line200The beste, fayreste, the strangest ok; That dede he him sweren on the bok, And thanne shulde he Engelond Al bitechen into hire hond.

Quanne that was sworn on his wise, line205The king dede the mayden arise, And the erl hire bitaucte And al the lond he evere awcte — Engelonde, everi del — And preide he shulde yeme hire wel.

line210The king ne moucte don no more, But yerne preyede Godes ore, And dede him hoslen wel and shrive, I wot fif hundred sithes and five, And ofte dede him sore swinge line215And wit hondes smerte dinge So that the blod ran of his fleys, That tendre was and swithe neys. He made his quiste swithe wel And sone gaf it everil del. line220Wan it was goven, ne micte men finde So mikel men micte him in winde, Of his in arke ne in chiste, In Engelond, that noman wiste; For al was yoven, faire and wel, line225That him was leved no catel.

Thanne he havede been ofte swngen, Ofte shriven and ofte dungen, “In manus tuas, Louerde,” he seyde, Her that he the speche leyde, line230To Jesu Crist bigan to calle And deyede biforn his heymen alle. Than he was ded, there micte men se The meste sorwe that micte be: Ther was sobbing, siking, and sor, line235Handes wringing and drawing bi hor. Alle greten swithe sore, Riche and poure that there wore, And mikel sorwe haveden alle — Levedyes in boure, knictes in halle. line240Quan that sorwe was somdel laten And he haveden longe graten, Belles deden he sone ringen, Monkes and prestes messe singen; And sauteres deden he manie reden, line245That God self shulde his soule leden Into hevene biforn his Sone, And ther wituten hende wone. Than he was to the erthe brouth, The riche erl ne foryat nouth line250That he ne dede al Engelond Sone sayse intil his hond, And in the castels leth he do The knictes he mighte tristen to, And alle the Englis dede he swere line255That he shulden him ghod fey beren: He yaf alle men that god thoucte, Liven and deyen til that him moucte, Til that the kinges dowter wore Twenti winter hold and more.

line260Thanne he havede taken this oth Of erles, baruns, lef and loth, Of knictes, cherles, fre and thewe, Justises dede he maken newe Al Engelond to faren thorw line265Fro Dovere into Rokesborw. Schireves he sette, bedels, and greyves, Grith sergeans with longe gleyves, To yemen wilde wodes and pathes Fro wicke men that wolde don scathes, line270And forto haven alle at his cri, At his wille, at hise merci, That non durste ben him ageyn — Erl ne barun, knict ne sweyn. Wislike for soth was him wel line275Of folc, of wepne, of catel: Sothlike, in a lite thrawe Al Engelond of him stod awe — Al Engelond was of him adrad, So his the beste fro the gad.

line280The kinges douther bigan thrive And wex the fairest wman on live. Of alle thewes was she wis That gode weren and of pris. The mayden Goldeboru was hoten; line285For hire was mani a ter igroten.

Quanne the Erl Godrich him herde Of that mayden — hw wel she ferde, Hw wis sho was, hw chaste, hw fayr, And that sho was the rithe eyr line290Of Engelond, of al the rike; Tho bigan Godrich to sike, And seyde, “Wether she sholde be Quen and levedi over me? Hwether sho sholde al Engelond line295And me and mine haven in hire hond? Datheit hwo it hire thave! Shal sho it nevere more have. Sholde ic yeve a fol, a therne, Engelond, thou sho it yerne? line300Datheit hwo it hire yeve Evere more hwil I live! She is waxen al to prud, For gode metes and noble shrud, That hic have yoven hire to offte; line305Hic have yemed hire to softe. Shal it nouth ben als sho thenkes: Hope maketh fol man ofte blenkes. Ich have a sone, a ful fayr knave; He shal Engelond al have! line310He shal king, he shal ben sire, So brouke I evere mi blake swire!” Hwan this trayson was al thouth, Of his oth ne was him nouth. He let his oth al overga. line315Therof he yaf he nouth a stra, Bute sone dede hire fete, Er he wolde heten ani mete, Fro Winchestre ther sho was, Also a wicke traytur Judas, line320And dede leden hire to Dovre, That standeth on the seis oure, And therhinne dede hire fede Pourelike in feble wede. The castel dede he yemen so line325That non ne micte comen hire to Of hire frend, with to speken, That hevere micte hire bale wreken.

Of Goldeboru shul we now laten, That nouth ne blinneth forto graten line330Ther sho liggeth in prisoun. Jesu Crist, that Lazarun To live broucte fro dede bondes, He lese hire wit Hise hondes! And leve sho mote him yse line335Heye hangen on galwe tre That hire haved in sorwe brouth, So as sho ne misdede nouth.

Say we now forth in hure spelle! In that time, so it bifelle, line340Was in the lond of Denemark A riche king and swythe stark. The name of him was Birkabeyn; He havede mani knict and sweyn; He was fayr man and wict, line345Of bodi he was the beste knicth That evere micte leden uth here, Or stede on ride or handlen spere. Thre children he havede bi his wif — He hem lovede so his lif. line350He havede a sone, douhtres two, Swithe fayre, as fel it so. He that wile non forbere, Riche ne poure, king ne kaysere, Deth him tok than he best wolde line355Liven, but hyse dayes were fulde, That he ne moucte no more live, For gold ne silver ne for no gyve.

Hwan he that wiste, rathe he sende After prestes, fer an hende — line360Chanounes gode and monkes bothe, Him for to wisse and to rede, Him for to hoslen an for to shrive, Hwil his bodi were on live.

Hwan he was hosled and shriven, line365His quiste maked and for him gyven, Hise knictes dede he alle site, For thoru hem he wolde wite Hwo micte yeme his children yunge Til that he kouthen speken wit tunge, line370Speken and gangen, on horse riden, Knictes and sweynes by here siden. He spoken theroffe and chosen sone A riche man that under mone, Was the trewest, that he wende — line375Godard, the kinges owne frende — And seyden he moucthe hem best loke Yif that he hem undertoke, Til hise sone mouthe bere Helm on heved and leden ut here, line380In his hand a spere stark, And king been maked of Denemark. He wel trowede that he seyde, And on Godard handes leyde; And seyde, “Here biteche I thee line385Mine children alle thre, Al Denemark and al mi fe, Til that mi sone of helde be, But that ich wille that thou swere On auter and on messe gere, line390On the belles that men ringes, On messe bok the prest on singes, That thou mine children shalt wel yeme, That hire kin be ful wel queme, Til mi sone mowe ben knicth. line395Thanne biteche him tho his ricth: Denemark and that ther til longes — Casteles and tunes, wodes and wonges.”

Godard stirt up and swor al that The king him bad, and sithen sat line400Bi the knictes that ther ware, That wepen alle swithe sare For the king that deide sone. Jesu Crist, that makede mone On the mirke nith to shine, line405Wite his soule fro helle pine; And leve that it mote wone In heveneriche with Godes Sone!

Hwan Birkabeyn was leyd in grave, The erl dede sone take the knave, line410Havelok, that was the eir, Swanborow, his sister, Helfled, the tother, And in the castel dede he hem do, Ther non ne micte hem comen to Of here kyn, ther thei sperd were. line415Ther he greten ofte sore Bothe for hunger and for kold, Or he weren thre winter hold. Feblelike he gaf hem clothes; He ne yaf a note of hise othes — line420He hem clothede rith ne fedde, Ne hem ne dede richelike bebedde. Thanne Godard was sikerlike Under God the moste swike That evre in erthe shaped was. line425Withuten on, the wike Judas. Have he the malisun today Of alle that evre speken may — Of patriark and of pope, And of prest with loken kope, line430Of monekes and hermites bothe, And of the leve Holi Rode That God himselve ran on blode! Crist warie him with His mouth! Waried wrthe he of north and suth, line435Offe alle men that speken kunne, Of Crist that made mone and sunne! Thanne he havede of al the lond Al the folk tilled intil his hond, And alle haveden sworen him oth, line440Riche and poure, lef and loth, That he sholden hise wille freme And that he shulde him nouth greme, He thouthe a ful strong trechery, A trayson and a felony, line445Of the children for to make — The devel of helle him sone take!

Hwan that was thouth, onon he ferde To the tour ther he woren sperde, Ther he greten for hunger and cold. line450The knave, that was sumdel bold, Kam him ageyn, on knes him sette, And Godard ful feyre he ther grette. And Godard seyde, “Wat is yw? Hwi grete ye and goulen now?” line455“For us hungreth swithe sore” — Seyden he, “we wolden more: We ne have to hete, ne we ne have Her inne neyther knith ne knave That yeveth us drinke ne no mete, line460Halvendel that we moun ete — Wo is us that we weren born! Weilawei! nis it no korn That men micte maken of bred? Us hungreth — we aren ney ded!” line465Godard herde here wa, Ther-offe yaf he nouth a stra, But tok the maydnes bothe samen, Al so it were up on hiis gamen, Al so he wolde with hem leyke line470That weren for hunger grene and bleike. Of bothen he karf on two here throtes, And sithen hem al to grotes. Ther was sorwe, wo-so it sawe, Hwan the children by the wawe line475Leyen and sprawleden in the blod. Havelok it saw and therbi stod — Ful sori was that sely knave. Mikel dred he mouthe have, For at hise herte he saw a knif line480For to reven him hise lyf. But the knave, that litel was, He knelede bifor that Judas, And seyde, “Louerd, mercy now! Manrede, louerd, biddi you: line485Al Denemark I wile you yeve, To that forward thu late me live. Here hi wile on boke swere That nevremore ne shal I bere Ayen thee, louerd, sheld ne spere, line490Ne other wepne that may you dere. Louerd, have merci of me! Today I wile fro Denemark fle, Ne neveremore comen agheyn! Sweren I wole that Bircabein line495Nevere yete me ne gat.” Hwan the devel herde that, Sumdel bigan him for to rewe; Withdrow the knif, that was lewe Of the seli children blod. line500Ther was miracle fair and god That he the knave nouth ne slou, But for rewnesse him witdrow — Of Avelok rewede him ful sore, And thoucte he wolde that he ded wore, line505But on that he nouth wit his hend Ne drepe him nouth, that fule fend! Thoucte he als he him bi stod, Starinde als he were wod, “Yif I late him lives go, line510He micte me wirchen michel wo — Grith ne get I neveremo; He may me waiten for to slo. And if he were brouct of live, And mine children wolden thrive, line515Louerdinges after me Of al Denemark micten he be. God it wite, he shal ben ded — Wile I taken non other red! I shal do casten him in the she, line520Ther I wile that he drench be, Abouten his hals an anker god, Thad he ne flete in the flod.” Ther anon he dede sende After a fishere that he wende line525That wolde al his wille do, And sone anon he seyde him to: “Grim, thou wost thu art my thral; Wilte don my wille al That I wile bidden thee? line530Tomorwen shal maken thee fre, And aucte thee yeven and riche make, Withthan thu wilt this child take And leden him with thee tonicht, Than thou sest the monelith, line535Into the se and don him therinne. Al wile I taken on me the sinne.” Grim tok the child and bond him faste, Hwil the bondes micte laste, That weren of ful strong line. line540Tho was Havelok in ful strong pine — Wiste he nevere her wat was wo! Jhesu Crist, that makede go The halte and the doumbe speken, Havelok, thee of Godard wreke! line545Hwan Grim him havede faste bounden, And sithen in an eld cloth wnden, He thriste in his muth wel faste A kevel of clutes ful unwraste, That he mouthe speke ne fnaste, line550Hwere he wolde him bere or lede. Hwan he havede don that dede, Hwat the swike him havede he yede That he shulde him forth lede And him drinchen in the se — line555That forwarde makeden he — In a poke, ful and blac, Sone he caste him on his bac, Ant bar him hom to hise cleve, And bitaucte him Dame Leve line560And seyde, “Wite thou this knave, Al so thou wit mi lif save! I shal dreinchen him in the se; For him shole we ben maked fre, Gold haven ynow and other fe: line565That havet mi louerd bihoten me.”

Hwan Dame Leve herde that, Up she stirte and nouth ne sat, And caste the knave so harde adoun That he crakede ther his croune line570Ageyn a gret ston ther it lay. Tho Havelok micte sei, “Weilawei, That evere was I kinges bern — That him ne havede grip or ern, Leoun or wlf, wlvine or bere, line575Or other best that wolde him dere!” So lay that child to middel nicth, That Grim bad Leve bringen lict, For to don on his clothes: “Ne thenkestu nowt of mine othes line580That ich have mi louerd sworen? Ne wile I nouth be forloren. I shal beren him to the se — Thou wost that hoves me — And I shal drenchen him therinne; line585Ris up swithe an go thu binne, And blow the fir and lith a kandel.” Als she shulde hise clothes handel On for to don and blawe the fir, She saw therinne a lith ful shir, line590Al so brith so it were day, Aboute the knave ther he lay. Of hise mouth it stod a stem Als it were a sunnebem; Al so lith was it therinne line595So ther brenden cerges inne. “Jesu Crist!” wat Dame Leve, “Hwat is that lith in ure cleve? Ris up, Grim, and loke wat it menes! Hwat is the lith, as thou wenes?” line600He stirten bothe up to the knave For man shal god wille have, Unkeveleden him and swithe unbounden, And sone anon him funden, Als he tirveden of his serk, line605On hise rith shuldre a kynmerk, A swithe brith, a swithe fair. “Goddot!” quath Grim, “this ure eir, That shal louerd of Denemark! He shal ben king, strong and stark; line610He shal haven in his hand Al Denemark and Engeland. He shal do Godard ful wo; He shal him hangen or quik flo, Or he shal him al quic grave. line615Of him shal he no merci have.” Thus seide Grim and sore gret, And sone fel him to the fet, And seide, “Louerd, have mercy Of me and Leve, that is me bi! line620Louerd, we aren bothe thine — Thine cherles, thine hine. Louerd, we sholen thee wel fede Til that thu cone riden on stede, Til that thu cone ful wel bere line625Helm on heved, sheld and spere. He ne shall nevere wite, sikerlike, Godard, that fule swike. Thoru other man, louerd, than thoru thee Shal I nevere freman be. line630Thou shalt me, louerd, fre maken, For I shal yemen thee and waken — Thoru thee wile I fredom have.” Tho was Haveloc a blithe knave! He sat him up and cravede bred, line635And seide, “Ich am ney ded, Hwat for hunger, wat for bondes That thu leidest on min hondes, And for kevel at the laste, That in my mouth was thrist faste. line640I was ther with so harde prangled That I was ther with ney strangled!” “Wel is me that thou mayth hete! Goddoth!” quath Leve, “I shal thee fete Bred an chese, butere and milk, line645Pastees and flaunes — al with swilk Shole we sone thee wel fede, Louerd, in this mikel nede. Soth it is that men seyt and swereth: ‘Ther God wile helpen, nouth ne dereth.’”

line650Thanne sho havede brouth the mete, Haveloc anon bigan to ete Grundlike, and was ful blithe. Couthe he nouth his hunger mithe. A lof he het, I woth, and more, line655For him hungrede swithe sore. Thre dayes ther biforn, I wene, Et he no mete — that was wel sene! Hwan he havede eten and was fed, Grim dede maken a ful fayr bed, line660Unclothede him and dede him therinne, And seyde, “Slep, sone, with muchel winne! Slep wel faste and dred thee nouth — Fro sorwe to joie art thu brouth.” Sone so it was lith of day, line665Grim it undertok the wey To the wicke traitour Godard That was of Denemark a stiward And saide, “Louerd, don ich have That thou me bede of the knave: line670He is drenched in the flod, Abouten his hals an anker god — He is witerlike ded. Eteth he nevremore bred: He lith drenched in the se. line675Yif me gold and other fe, That I mowe riche be, And with thi chartre make fre; For thu ful wel bihetet me Thanne I last spak with thee.” line680Godard stod and lokede on him Thoruthlike, with eyne grim, And seyde, “Wiltu ben erl? Go hom swithe, fule drit-cherl; Go hethen and be everemore line685Thral and cherl als thou er wore — Shaltu have non other mede; For litel I do thee lede To the galwes, so God me rede! For thou haves don a wicke dede. line690Thou mait stonden her to longe, Bute thou swithe hethen gonge!”

Grim thoucte to late that he ran Fro that traytour, that wicke man, And thoucte, “Wat shal me to rede? line695Wite he him on live he wile bethe Heye hangen on galwe tre. Betere us is of londe to fle, And berwen bothen ure lives, And mine children and mine wives.” line700Grim solde sone al his corn, Shep with wolle, neth with horn, Hors and swin, geet with berd, The gees, the hennes of the yerd — Al he solde that outh douthe, line705That he evre selle moucte; And al he to the peni drou. Hise ship he greythede wel inow; He dede it tere an ful wel pike That it ne doutede sond ne krike; line710Therinne dide a ful god mast, Stronge kables and ful fast, Ores gode an ful god seyl — Therinne wantede nouth a nayl, That evere he sholde therinne do. line715Hwan he havedet greythed so, Havelok the yunge he dede therinne, Him and his wif, hise sones thrinne, And hise two doutres that faire wore. And sone dede he leyn in an ore, line720And drou him to the heye see, There he mith altherbeste fle. Fro londe woren he bote a mile, Ne were it nevere but ane hwile That it ne bigan a wind to rise line725Out of the north men calleth “bise,” And drof hem intil Engelond, That al was sithen in his hond, His, that Havelok was the name; But or he havede michel shame, line730Michel sorwe and michel tene, And yete he gat it al bidene; Als ye shulen now forthward lere, Yf that ye wilen therto here.

In Humber Grim bigan to lende, line735In Lindeseye, rith at the north ende. Ther sat his ship upon the sond; But Grim it drou up to the lond; And there he made a litel cote To him and to hise flote. line740Bigan he there for to erthe, A litel hus to maken of erthe, So that he wel thore were Of here herboru herborwed there. And for that Grim that place aute, line745The stede of Grim the name laute, So that Grimesbi it calleth alle That theroffe speken alle; And so shulen men callen it ay, Bitwene this and Domesday.

line750Grim was fishere swithe god, And mikel couthe on the flod — Mani god fish therinne he tok, Bothe with neth and with hok. He tok the sturgiun and the qual, line755And the turbut and lax withal; He tok the sele and the hwel — He spedde ofte swithe wel. Keling he tok and tumberel, Hering and the makerel, line760The butte, the schulle, the thornebake. Gode paniers dede he make, On til him and other thrinne Til hise sones to beren fishe inne, Up o londe to selle and fonge — line765Forbar he neyther tun ne gronge That he ne to yede with his ware. Kam he nevere hom hand-bare, That he ne broucte bred and sowel In his shirte or in his cowel, line770In his poke benes and korn — Hise swink he havede he nowt forlorn. And hwan he took the grete lamprey, Ful wel he couthe the rithe wei To Lincolne, the gode boru; line775Ofte he yede it thoru and thoru, Til he havede wol wel sold And therfore the penies told. Thanne he com thenne he were blithe, For hom he brouthe fele sithe line780Wastels, simenels with the horn, His pokes fulle of mele and korn, Netes flesh, shepes and swines; And hemp to maken of gode lines, And stronge ropes to hise netes, line785In the se weren he ofte setes.

Thusgate Grim him fayre ledde: Him and his genge wel he fedde Wel twelf winter other more. Havelok was war that Grim swank sore line790For his mete, and he lay at hom — Thouthe, “Ich am now no grom! Ich am wel waxen and wel may eten More than evere Grim may geten. Ich ete more, bi God on live, line795Than Grim an hise children five! It ne may nouth ben thus longe. Goddot! I wile with hem gange For to leren sum god to gete. Swinken ich wolde for my mete — line800It is no shame for to swinken! The man that may wel eten and drinken Thar nouth ne have but on swink long — To liggen at hom it is ful strong. God yelde him, ther I ne may, line805That haveth me fed to this day! Gladlike I wile the paniers bere — Ich woth ne shal it me nouth dere, They ther be inne a birthene gret Al so hevi als a neth. line810Shal ich nevere lengere dwelle — Tomorwen shal ich forth pelle.”

On the morwen, hwan it was day, He stirt up sone and nouth ne lay, And cast a panier on his bac, line815With fish giveled als a stac. Al so michel he bar him one, So he foure, bi mine mone! Wel he it bar and solde it wel; The silver he brouthe hom ilk del, line820Al that he therfore tok — Withheld he nouth a ferthinges nok. So yede he forth ilke day That he nevere at home lay — So wolde he his mester lere. line825Bifel it so a strong dere Bigan to rise of korn of bred, That Grim ne couthe no god red, Hw he sholde his meiné fede; Of Havelok havede he michel drede, line830For he was strong and wel mouthe ete More thanne evere mouthe be gete; Ne he ne mouthe on the se take Neyther lenge ne thornbake, Ne non other fish that douthe line835His meyné feden with he mouthe. Of Havelok he havede kare, Hwilgat that he micthe fare. Of his children was him nouth; On Havelok was al hise thouth, line840And seyde, “Havelok, dere sone, I wene that we deye mone For hunger, this dere is so strong, And hure mete is uten long. Betere is that thu henne gonge line845Than thu here dwelle longe — Hethen thou mayt gangen to late; Thou canst ful wel the ricthe gate To Lincolne, the gode boru — Thou havest it gon ful ofte thoru. line850Of me ne is me nouth a slo. Betere is that thu thider go, For ther is mani god man inne; Ther thou mayt thi mete winne. But wo is me thou art so naked, line855Of mi seyl I wolde thee were maked A cloth thou mithest inne gongen, Sone, no cold that thu ne fonge.”

He tok the sheres of the nayl And made him a covel of the sayl, line860And Havelok dide it sone on. Havede he neyther hosen ne shon, Ne none kines other wede: To Lincolne barfot he yede. Hwan he cam ther, he was ful wil — line865Ne havede he no frend to gangen til. Two dayes ther fastinde he yede, That non for his werk wolde him fede. The thridde day herde he calle: “Bermen, bermen, hider forth alle!” line870Poure that on fote yede Sprongen forth so sparke on glede, Havelok shof dun nyne or ten Rith amidewarde the fen, And stirte forth to the kok, line875Ther the erles mete he tok That he bouthe at the brigge: The bermen let he alle ligge, And bar the mete to the castel, And gat him there a ferthing wastel. line880Thet other day kepte he ok Swithe yerne the erles kok, Til that he say him on the brigge, And bi him many fishes ligge. The herles mete havede he bouth line885Of Cornwalie and kalde oft: “Bermen, bermen, hider swithe!” Havelok it herde and was ful blithe That he herde “bermen” calle. Alle made he hem dun falle line890That in his gate yeden and stode — Wel sixtene laddes gode. Als he lep the kok til, He shof hem alle upon an hyl — Astirte til him with his rippe line895And bigan the fish to kippe. He bar up wel a carte lode Of segges, laxes, of playces brode, Of grete laumprees and of eles. Sparede he neyther tos ne heles line900Til that he to the castel cam, That men fro him his birthene nam. Than men haveden holpen him doun With the birthene of his croun, The kok stod and on him low, line905And thoute him stalworthe man ynow, And seyde, “Wiltu ben wit me? Gladlike wile ich feden thee: Wel is set the mete thu etes, And the hire that thu getes!”

line910“Goddot!” quoth he, “leve sire, Bidde ich you non other hire, But yeveth me inow to ete — Fir and water I wile you fete, The fir blowe and ful wele maken; line915Stickes kan ich breken and kraken, And kindlen ful wel a fyr, And maken it to brennen shir. Ful wel kan ich cleven shides, Eles to turven of here hides; line920Ful wel kan ich dishes swilen, And don al that ye evere wilen.” Quoth the kok, “Wile I no more! Go thu yunder and sit thore, And I shal yeve the ful fair bred, line925And made the broys in the led. Sit now doun and et ful yerne — Datheit hwo the mete werne!”

Havelok sette him dun anon Al so stille als a ston, line930Til he havede ful wel eten; Tho havede Havelok fayre geten. Hwan he havede eten inow, He kam to the wele, water up drow, And filde ther a michel so — line935Bad he non ageyn him go, But bitwen his hondes he bar it in, Al him one, to the kichin. Bad he non him water to fett, Ne fro brigge to bere the mete. line940He bar the turves, he bar the star, The wode fro the brigge he bar, Al that evere shulden he nytte, Al he drow and al he citte — Wolde he nevere haven rest line945More than he were a best. Of alle men was he mest meke, Lauhwinde ay and blithe of speke; Evere he was glad and blithe — His sorwe he couthe ful wel mithe. line950It ne was non so litel knave For to leyken ne for to plawe, That he ne wolde with him pleye. The children that yeden in the weie Of him he deden al here wille, line955And with him leykeden here fille. Him loveden alle, stille and bolde, Knictes, children, yunge and holde — Alle him loveden that him sowen, Bothen heye men and lowe. line960Of him ful wide the word sprong, Hw he was mikel, hw he was strong, Hw fayr man God him havede maked, But on that he was almest naked: For he ne havede nouth to shride line965But a kovel ful unride, That was ful and swithe wicke; Was it nouth worth a fir-sticke. The cok bigan of him to rewe And bouthe him clothes al spannewe: line970He bouthe him bothe hosen and shon, And sone dide him dones on. Hwan he was clothed, osed, and shod, Was non so fayr under God, That evere yete in erthe were, line975Non that evere moder bere; It was nevere man that yemede In kinneriche that so wel semede King or cayser for to be, Than he was shrid, so semede he; line980For thanne he weren alle samen At Lincolne at the gamen, And the erles men woren al thore, Than was Havelok bi the shuldren more Than the meste that ther kam: line985In armes him noman nam That he doune sone ne caste. Havelok stod over hem als a mast; Als he was heie, als he was long, He was bothe stark and strong — line990In Engelond non hise per Of strengthe that evere kam him ner. Als he was strong, so was he softe; They a man him misdede ofte, Neveremore he him misseyde, line995Ne hond on him with yvele leyde. Of bodi was he mayden clene; Nevere yete in game, ne in grene, With hire ne wolde he leyke ne lye, No more than it were a strie. line1000In that time al Hengelond Th’erl Godrich havede in his hond, And he gart komen into the tun Mani erl and mani barun, And alle that lives were line1005In Englond thanne wer there, That they haveden after sent To ben ther at the parlement. With hem com mani chambioun, Mani with ladde, blac and brown, line1010And fel it so that yungemen, Wel abouten nine or ten, Bigunnen the for to layke. Thider komen bothe stronge and wayke, Thider komen lesse and more line1015That in the boru thanne weren thore — Chaunpiouns and starke laddes, Bondemen with here gaddes, Als he comen fro the plow. There was sembling inow; line1020For it ne was non horse-knave, Tho thei sholden in honde have, That he ne kam thider, the leyk to se. Biforn here fet thanne lay a tre, And pulten with a mikel ston line1025The starke laddes, ful god won. The ston was mikel and ek gret, And al so hevi so a neth; Grundstalwyrthe man he sholde be That mouthe liften it to his kne; line1030Was ther neyther clerc ne prest, That mithe liften it to his brest. Therwit putten the chaumpiouns That thider comen with the barouns. Hwo so mithe putten thore line1035Biforn another an inch or more, Wore he yung, wore he hold, He was for a kempe told. Al so the stoden and ofte stareden, The chaumpiouns and ek the ladden, line1040And he maden mikel strout Abouten the altherbeste but, Havelok stod and lokede thertil, And of puttingge he was ful wil, For nevere yete ne saw he or line1045Putten the stone or thanne thor. Hise mayster bad him gon therto — Als he couthe therwith do. Tho hise mayster it him bad, He was of him sore adrad. line1050Therto he stirte sone anon, And kipte up that hevi ston That he sholde putten withe; He putte at the firste sithe, Over alle that ther wore line1055Twelve fote and sumdel more. The chaumpiouns that put sowen; Shuldreden he ilc other and lowen. Wolden he nomore to putting gange, But seyde, “Thee dwellen her to longe!” line1060This selkouth mithe nouth ben hyd: Ful sone it was ful loude kid Of Havelok, hw he warp the ston Over the laddes everilkon, Hw he was fayr, hw he was long, line1065Hw he was with, hw he was strong; Thoruth England yede the speche, Hw he was strong and ek meke; In the castel, up in the halle, The knithes speken therof alle, line1070So that Godrich it herde wel: The speken of Havelok, everi del — Hw he was strong man and hey, Hw he was strong, and ek fri, And thouthte Godrich, “Thoru this knave line1075Shal ich Engelond al have, And mi sone after me; For so I wile that it be. The King Athelwald me dide swere Upon al the messe gere line1080That I shude his douther yeve The hexte that mithe live, The beste, the fairest, the strangest ok — That gart he me sweren on the bok. Hwere mithe I finden ani so hey, line1085So Havelok is, or so sley? Thou I southe hethen into Inde, So fayr, so strong, ne mithe I finde. Havelok is that ilke knave That shal Goldeboru have!” line1090This thouthe with trechery, With traysoun, and wit felony; For he wende that Havelok wore Sum cherles sone and no more; Ne shulde he haven of Engellond line1095Onlepi foru in his hond With hire that was therof eyr, That bothe was god and swithe fair. He wende that Havelok wer a thral, Therthoru he wende haven al line1100In Engelond, that hire rith was. He was werse than Sathanas That Jhesu Crist in erthe stoc. Hanged worthe he on an hok!

After Goldeboru sone he sende, line1105That was bothe fayr and hende, And dide hire to Lincolne bringe. Belles dede he ageyn hire ringen, And joie he made hire swithe mikel; But netheless he was ful swikel. line1110He saide that he sholde hire yeve The fayreste man that mithe live. She answerede and saide anon, By Crist and bi Seint Johan, That hire sholde noman wedde line1115Ne noman bringen hire to bedde But he were king or kinges eyr, Were he nevere man so fayr.

Godrich the erl was swithe wroth That she swor swilk an oth, line1120And saide, “Whether thou wilt be Quen and levedi over me? Thou shalt haven a gadeling — Ne shalt thou haven non other king! Thee shal spusen mi cokes knave — line1125Ne shalt thou non other louered have. Datheit that thee other yeve Everemore hwil I live! Tomorwe ye sholen ben weddeth, And maugre thin togidere beddeth. line1130Goldeboru gret and yaf hire ille; She wolde ben ded bi hire wille. On the morwen hwan day was sprungen And day-belle at kirke rungen, After Havelok sente that Judas line1135That werse was thanne Sathanas, And saide, “Maister, wilte wif?” “Nay,” quoth Havelok, “bi my lif! Hwat sholde ich with wif do? I ne may hire fede ne clothe ne sho. line1140Wider sholde ich wimman bringe? I ne have none kines thinge — I ne have hws, I ne have cote, Ne I ne have stikke, I ne have sprote, I ne have neyther bred ne sowel, line1145Ne cloth but of an hold whit covel. This clothes that ich onne have Aren the kokes and ich his knave!” Godrich stirt up and on him dong, With dintes swithe hard and strong, line1150And seyde, “But thou hire take That I wole yeven thee to make, I shal hangen thee ful heye, Or I shal thristen uth thin heie.” Havelok was one and was odrat, line1155And grauntede him al that he bad.

Tho sende he after hire sone, The fayrest wymman under mone, And seyde til hire, fals and slike, That wicke thrall that foule swike: line1160“But thu this man understonde, I shall flemen thee of londe; Or thou shal to the galwes renne, And ther thou shalt in a fir brenne.” Sho was adrad for he so thrette, line1165And durste nouth the spusing lette; But they hire likede swithe ille, Sho thouthe it was Godes wille — God that makes to growen the korn, Formede hire wimman to be born. line1170Hwan he havede don him, for drede, That he sholde hire spusen and fede, And that she sholde til him holde, Ther weren penies thicke tolde Mikel plenté, upon the bok — line1175He ys hire yaf and she is tok. He weren spused fayre and well, The messe he dede, everi del That fel to spusing, an god clek — The erchebishop uth of Yerk, line1180That kam to the parlement, Als God him havede thider sent.

Hwan he weren togidere in Godes lawe, That the folc ful wel it sawe, He ne wisten what he mouthen, line1185Ne he ne wisten what hem douthe, Ther to dwellen, or thenne to gonge. Ther ne wolden he dwellen longe, For he wisten and ful wel sawe That Godrich hem hatede — the devel him hawe! line1190And if he dwelleden ther outh — That fel Havelok ful wel on thouth — Men sholde don his leman shame, Or elles bringen in wicke blame, That were him levere to ben ded. line1195Forthi he token another red: That thei sholden thenne fle Til Grim and til hise sone thre — Ther wenden he altherbest to spede, Hem forto clothe and for to fede. line1200The lond he token under fote — Ne wisten he non other bote — And helden ay the rith sti Til he komen to Grimesby. Thanne he komen there thanne was Grim ded — line1205Of him ne haveden he no red. But hise children alle fyve, Alle weren yet on live, That ful fayre ayen hem neme Hwan he wisten that he keme, line1210And maden joie swithe mikel — Ne weren he nevere ayen hem fikel. On knes ful fayre he hem setten And Havelok swithe fayre gretten, And seyden, “Welkome, louered dere! line1215And welkome be thi fayre fere! Blessed be that ilke thrawe That thou hire toke in Godes lawe! Wel is hus we sen thee on live. Thou mithe us bothe selle and yeve; line1220Thou mayt us bothe yeve and selle, With that thou wilt here dwelle. We haven, louerd, alle gode — Hors, and neth, and ship on flode, Gold and silver and michel auchte, line1225That Grim ure fader us bitauchte. Gold and silver and other fe Bad he us bitaken thee. We haven sheep, we haven swin; Bileve her, louerd, and al be thin! line1230Tho shalt ben louerd, thou shalt ben syre, And we sholen serven thee and hire; And hure sistres sholen do Al that evere biddes sho: He sholen hire clothes washen and wringen, line1235And to hondes water bringen; He sholen bedden hire and thee, For levedi wile we that she be.” Hwan he this joie haveden maked, Sithen stikes broken and kraked, line1240And the fir brouth on brenne; Ne was ther spared gos ne henne, Ne the hende ne the drake: Mete he deden plenté make; Ne wantede there no god mete, line1245Wyn and ale deden he fete, And hem made glade and blithe; Wesseyl ledden he fele sithe. On the nith als Goldeboru lay, Sory and sorwful was she ay, line1250For she wende she were biswike, That she were yeven unkyndelike. O nith saw she therinne a lith, A swithe fayr, a swithe bryth — Al so brith, all so shir line1255So it were a blase of fir. She lokede noth and ek south, And saw it comen ut of his mouth That lay bi hire in the bed. No ferlike thou she were adred! line1260Thouthe she, “What may this bimene? He beth heyman yet, als I wene: He beth heyman er he be ded!” On hise shuldre, of gold red She saw a swithe noble croiz; line1265Of an angel she herde a voyz:

“Goldeboru, lat thi sorwe be! For Havelok, that haveth spuset thee, He, kinges sone and kinges eyr, That bikenneth that croiz so fayr line1270It bikenneth more — that he shal Denemark haven and Englond al. He shal ben king strong and stark, Of Engelond and Denemark — That shal thu wit thin eyne seen, line1275And tho shalt quen and levedi ben!”

Thanne she havede herd the stevene Of the angel uth of hevene, She was so fele sithes blithe That she ne mithe hire joie mythe, line1280But Havelok sone anon she kiste, And he slep and nouth ne wiste Hwat that aungel havede seyd. Of his slep anon he brayd, And seide, “Lemman, slepes thou? line1285A selkuth drem dremede me now —

Herkne now what me haveth met. Me thouthe I was in Denemark set, But on on the moste hil That evere yete cam I til. line1290It was so hey that I wel mouthe Al the werd se, als me thouthe. Als I sat upon that lowe I bigan Denemark for to awe, The borwes and the castles stronge; line1295And mine armes weren so longe That I fadmede al at ones, Denemark with mine longe bones; And thanne I wolde mine armes drawe Til me and hom for to have, line1300Al that evere in Denemark liveden On mine armes faste clyveden; And the stronge castles alle On knes bigunnen for to falle — The keyes fellen at mine fet. line1305Another drem dremede me ek: That ich fley over the salte se Til Engeland, and al with me That evere was in Denemark lyves But bondemen and here wives; line1310And that ich com til Engelond — Al closede it intil min hond, And, Goldeborw, I gaf thee. Deus! lemman, what may this be?” Sho answerede and seyde sone: line1315“Jesu Crist, that made mone, Thine dremes turne to joye . . . That wite thu that sittes in trone! Ne non strong, king ne caysere So thou shalt be, fo thou shalt bere line1320In Engelond corune yet. Denemark shal knele to thi fet; Alle the castles that aren therinne Shaltou, lemman, ful wel winne. I woth so wel so ich it sowe, line1325To thee shole comen heye and lowe, And alle that in Denemark wone — Em and brother, fader and sone, Erl and baroun, dreng and thayn, Knightes and burgeys and sweyn — line1330And mad king heyelike and wel. Denemark shal be thin evere ilc del — Have thou nouth theroffe douthe, Nouth the worth of one nouthe; Theroffe withinne the firste yer line1335Shalt thou ben king of evere il del. But do now als I wile rathe: Nim in wit lithe to Denemark bathe, And do thou nouth on frest this fare — Lith and selthe felawes are. line1340For shal ich nevere blithe be Til I with eyen Denemark se, For ich woth that al the lond Shalt thou haven in thin hond. Prey Grimes sones alle thre, line1345That he wenden forth with the; I wot he wilen the nouth werne — With the wende shulen he yerne, For he loven thee hertelike. Thou maght til he aren quike, line1350Hwore-so he o worde aren; There ship thou do hem swithe yaren, And loke that thou dwelle nouth — Dwelling haveth ofte scathe wrouth.”

Hwan Havelok herde that she radde, line1355Sone it was day, sone he him cladde, And sone to the kirke yede Or he dide any other dede, And bifor the Rode bigan falle, “Croiz” and “Crist” bi to kalle, line1360And seyde, “Louerd, that all weldes — Wind and water, wodes and feldes — For the holy milce of you, Have merci of me, Louerd, now! And wreke me yet on mi fo line1365That ich saw biforn min eyne slo Mine sistres with a knif, And sithen wolde me mi lyf Have reft, for in the se Bad he Grim have drenched me. line1370He hath mi lond with mikel unrith, With michel wrong, with mikel plith, For I ne misdede him nevere nouth, And haved me to sorwe brouth. He haveth me do mi mete to thigge, line1375And ofte in sorwe and pine ligge. Louerd, have merci of me, And late me wel passe the se — Though ihc have theroffe douthe and kare, Withuten stormes overfare, line1380That I ne drenched therine Ne forfaren for no sinne, And bringe me wel to the lond That Godard haldes in his hond, That is mi rith, everi del — line1385Jesu Crist, thou wost it wel!”

Thanne he havede his bede seyd, His offrende on the auter leyd, His leve at Jhesu Crist he tok, And at his swete moder ok, line1390And at the Croiz that he biforn lay; Sithen yede sore grotinde awey.

Hwan he com hom, he wore yare, Grimes sones, for to fare Into the se, fishes to gete, line1395That Havelok mithe wel of ete. But Avelok thoughte al another: First he kalde the heldeste brother, Roberd the Rede, bi his name, Wiliam Wenduth and Huwe Raven, line1400Grimes sones alle thre — And seyde, “Lithes now alle to me; Louerdinges, ich wile you shewe A thing of me that ye wel knewe. Mi fader was king of Denshe lond — line1405Denemark was al in his hond The day that he was quik and ded. But thanne havede he wicke red, That he me and Denemark al And mine sistres bitawte a thral; line1410A develes lime he hus bitawhte, And al his lond and al hise authe, For I saw that fule fend Mine sistres slo with hise hend: First he shar a two here throtes, line1415And sithen hem al to grotes, And sithen bad in the se Grim, youre fader, drenchen me. Deplike dede he him swere On bok that he sholde me bere line1420Unto the se and drenchen ine, And wolde taken on him the sinne. But Grim was wis and swithe hende — Wolde he nouth his soule shende; Levere was him to be forsworen line1425Than drenchen me and ben forlorn. But sone bigan he forto fle Fro Denemark for to berthen me. For yif ich havede ther ben funden, Havede he ben slayn or harde bunden, line1430And heye ben hanged on a tre — Havede go for him gold ne fe. Forthi fro Denemark hider he fledde, And me ful fayre and ful wel fedde, So that unto this day line1435Have ich ben fed and fostred ay. But now ich am up to that helde Cumen that ich may wepne welde, And I may grete dintes yeve, Shal I nevere hwil ich lyve line1440Ben glad til that ich Denemark se! I preie you that ye wende with me, And ich may mak you riche men; Ilk of you shal have castles ten, And the lond that thor til longes — line1445Borwes, tunes, wodes, and wonges.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

line1625“With swilk als ich byen shal. Ther of biseche you now leve Wile ich speke with non other reve But with thee, that justise are, That I mithe seken mi ware line1630In gode borwes up and doun, And faren ich wile fro tun to tun.” A gold ring drow he forth anon — An hundred pund was worth the ston — And yaf it Ubbe for to spede. line1635He was ful wis that first yaf mede; And so was Havelok ful wis here: He solde his gold ring ful dere — Was nevere non so dere sold Fro chapmen, neyther yung ne old. line1640That sholen ye forthward ful wel heren, Yif that ye wile the storie heren.

Hwan Ubbe havede the gold ring, Havede he yovenet for no thing, Nouth for the borw evere ilk del. line1645Havelok bihel he swithe wel, Hw he was wel of bones maked, Brod in the sholdres, ful wel schaped, Thicke in the brest, of bodi long — He semede wel to ben wel strong. line1650“Deus!” hwat Ubbe, “Qui ne were he knith? I woth that he is swithe with! Betere semede him to bere Helm on heved, sheld and spere, Thanne to beye and selle ware — line1655Allas, that he shal therwith fare! Goddot! Wile he trowe me, Chaffare shal he late be.” Netheles he seyde sone: “Havelok, have thi bone! line1660And I ful wel rede thee That thou come and ete with me Today, thou and thi fayre wif That thou lovest al so thi lif. And have thou of hire no drede — line1665Shal hire no man shame bede. Bi the fey that I owe to thee, Ther of shal I me self borw be.”

Havelok herde that he bad, And thow was he ful sore drad line1670With him to ete, for hise wif; For him wore levere that his lif Him wore reft, than she in blame Felle or lauthe ani shame. Hwanne he havede his wille yat, line1675The stede that he onne sat Smot Ubbe with spures faste, And forth awey, but at the laste, Or he fro him ferde, Seyde he, that his folk herde: line1680“Loke that ye comen bethe, For ich it wile and ich it rede.”

Havelok ne durste, the he were adrad, Nouth withsitten that Ubbe bad. His wif he dide with him lede — line1685Unto the heye curt he yede. Roberd hire ledde, that was red, That havede tholed for hire the ded Or ani havede hire misseyd, Or hand with ivele onne leyd. line1690Willam Wendut was that other That hire ledde, Roberdes brother, That was with at alle nedes. Wel is him that god man fedes! Than he weren comen to the halle, line1695Biforen Ubbe and hise men alle, Ubbe stirte hem ageyn, And mani a knith and mani a sweyn, Hem for to se and for to shewe. Tho stod Havelok als a lowe line1700Aboven that ther inne wore, Rith al bi the heved more Thanne ani that ther inne stod. Tho was Ubbe blithe of mod That he saw him so fayr and hende; line1705Fro him ne mithe his herte wende, Ne fro him, ne fro his wif — He lovede hem sone so his lif. Weren non in Denemark that him thouthe That he so mikel love mouthe. line1710More he lovede Havelok one Than al Denemark, bi mine wone. Loke now, hw God helpen kan O mani wise wif and man!

Hwan it was comen time to ete, line1715Hise wif dede Ubbe sone in fete, And til hire seyde al on gamen, “Dame, thou and Havelok shulen ete samen, And Goldeboru shal ete wit me, That is so fayr so flour on tre. line1720In al Denemark is wimman non So fayr so sche, by Seint Johan.” Thanne were set and bord leyd, And the beneysun was seyd, Biforn hem com the beste mete line1725That king or cayser wolde ete: Kranes, swannes, veneysun, Lax, lampreys, and god sturgun, Pyment to drinke and god claré, Win hwit and red, ful god plenté — line1730Was ther inne no page so lite That evere wolde ale bite. Of the mete forto telle Ne of the win bidde I nout dwelle; That is the storie for to lenge — line1735It wolde anuye this fayre genge. But hwan he haveden the kilthing deyled And fele sithe haveden wosseyled, With gode drinkes seten longe, And it was time for to gonge, line1740Ilk man to ther he cam fro, Thouthe Ubbe, “If I late hem go, Thus one foure, withuten mo, So mote ich brouke finger or to, For this wimman bes mikel wo! line1745For hire shal men hire louerd slo.” He tok sone knithes ten, And wel sixti other men Wit gode bowes and with gleives, And sende hem unto the greyves, line1750The beste man of al the toun, That was named Bernard Brun — And bad him als he lovede his lif, Havelok wel yemen and his wif, And wel do wayten al the nith line1755Til the other day that it were lith. Bernard was trewe and swithe with, In al the borw ne was no knith That betere couthe on stede riden, Helm on heved ne swerd bi side. line1760Havelok he gladlike understod With mikel love and herte god, And dide greythe a super riche Al so he was no with chinche To his bihove everil del, line1765That he mithe supe swithe wel.

Al so he seten and sholde soupe, So comes a ladde in a joupe, And with him sixti other stronge With swerdes drawen and knives longe, line1770Ilkan in hande a ful god gleive, And seyde, “Undo, Bernard the greyve! Undo swithe and lat us in, Or thu art ded, bi Seint Austin!” Bernard stirt up, that was ful big, line1775And caste a brinie upon his rig, And grop an ax that was ful god — Lep to the dore so he wore wod, And seyde, “Hwat are ye, that ar ther-oute, That thus biginnen for to stroute? line1780Goth henne swithe, fule theves, For, bi the Louerd that man on leves, Shol ich casten the dore open, Summe of you shal ich drepen, And the othre shal ich kesten line1785In feteres and ful faste festen! “Hwat have ye seid?” quoth a ladde, “Wenestu that we ben adradde? We shole at this dore gonge Maugre thin, carl, or outh longe.” line1790He gripen sone a bulder ston And let it fleye, ful god won, Agen the dore, that it to-rof. Avelok it saw, and thider drof And the barre sone ut drow, line1795That was unride and gret ynow, And caste the dore open wide And seide, “Her shal I now abide! Comes swithe unto me — Datheyt hwo you henne fle!” line1800“No,” quodh on, “that shaltou coupe;” And bigan til him to loupe, In his hond his swerd ut drawe, Havelok he wende thore have slawe, And with him comen other two line1805That him wolde of live have do. Havelok lifte up the dore tre And at a dint he slow hem thre. Was non of hem that hise hernes Ne lay ther ute ageyn the sternes. line1810The ferthe that he sithen mette Wit the barre so he him grette Bifor the heved that the rith eye Ut of the hole made he fleye, And sithe clapte him on the crune line1815So that he stan ded fel thor dune. The fifte that he overtok Gaf he a ful sor dint ok, Bitween the sholdres ther he stod, That he spen his herte blod. line1820The sixte wende for to fle, And he clapte him with the tre Rith in the fule necke so That he smot hise necke on to. Thanne the sixe weren doun feld, line1825The seventhe brayd ut his swerd And wolde Havelok riht in the eye; And Havelok let the barre fleye And smot him sone agheyn the brest, That havede he nevere schrifte of prest line1830For he was ded on lesse hwile Than men mouthe renne a mile. Alle the othere weren ful kene; A red they taken hem bitwene That he sholde him bihalve, line1835And brisen so that wit no salve Ne sholde him helen leche non. They drowen ut swerdes, ful god won, And shoten on him so don on bere Dogges that wolden him to-tere, line1840Thanne men doth the bere beyte. The laddes were kaske and teyte And umbiyeden him ilkon. Sum smot with tre and sum wit ston, Summe putten with gleyve in bac and side line1845And yeven wundes longe and wide In twenti stedes and wel mo, Fro the croune til the to. Hwan he saw that, he was wod And was it ferlik hw he stod! line1850For the blod ran of his sides So water that fro the welle glides. But thanne bigan he for to mowe With the barre, and let hem shewe Hw he couthe sore smite; line1855For was ther non, long ne lite, That he mouthe overtake, That he ne garte his croune krake, So that on a litel stund, Felde he twenti to the grund.

line1860Tho bigan gret dine to rise, For the laddes on ilke wise Him asayleden with grete dintes, Fro fer he sto[n]den him with flintes, And gleyves schoten him fro ferne, line1865For drepen him he wolden yerne; But dursten he newhen him nomore Thanne he bor or leun wore.

Huwe Raven that dine herde, And thowthe wel that men misferde line1870With his louerd for his wif And grop an ore and a long knif, And thider drof al so an hert, And cham ther on a litel stert And saw how the laddes wode line1875Havelok his louerd umbistode, And beten on him so doth the smith With the hamer on the stith.

“Allas!” hwat Hwe, “that I was boren! That evere et ich bred of koren! line1880That ich here this sorwe se! Roberd! Willam! Hware ar ye? Gripeth ether unker a god tre And late we nouth thise doges fle Til ure louerd wreke be. line1885Cometh swithe, and folwes me: Ich have in honde a ful god ore — Datheit wo ne smite sore!” “Ya! leve, ya!” quod Roberd sone, “We haven ful god lith of the mone.” line1890Roberd grop a staf strong and gret, That mouthe ful wel bere a net, And Willam Wendut grop a tre Mikel grettere than his the, And Bernard held his ax ful faste line1895I seye was he nouthe the laste! And lopen forth so he weren wode To the laddes ther he stode, And yaf hem wundes swithe grete; Ther mithe men wel se boyes bete, line1900And ribbes in here sides breke And Havelok on hem wel wreke. He broken armes, he broken knes, He broken shankes, he broken thes. He dide the blod there renne dune line1905To the fet rith fro the crune, For was ther spared heved non. He leyden on hevedes ful god won, And made croune breke and crake Of the broune and of the blake. line1910He maden here backes al so bloute Als here wombes and made hem rowte Als he weren kradelbarnes — So dos the child that moder tharnes.

Datheit the recke! For he it servede. line1915Hwat dide he thore? Weren he werewed. So longe haveden he but and bet With neves under hernes set That of tho sixti men and on Ne wente ther awey lives non.

line1920On the morwen, hwan it was day, Ilc on other wirwed lay Als it were dogges that weren henged; And summe leye in dikes slenget, And summe in gripes bi the her line1925Drawen ware and laten ther. Sket cam tiding intil Ubbe That Havelok havede with a clubbe Of hise slawen sixti and on Sergaunz, the beste that mihten gon. line1930“Deus,” quoth Ubbe, “Hwat may this be? Betere is I nime miself and se That this baret on hwat is wold Thanne I sende yunge or old; For yif I sende him unto, line1935I wene men sholde him shame do, And that ne wolde ich for no thing. I love him wel, bi Heveneking — Me wore levere I wore lame Thanne men dide him ani shame line1940Or tok or onne handes leyde Unornelike or shame seyde.” He lep up on a stede lith, And with him mani a noble knith, And ferde forth unto the tun, line1945And dide calle Bernard Brun Ut of his hus wan he ther cam; And Bernard sone ageyn nam, Al to-tused and al to-torn, Ner al so naked so he was born line1950And al to-brised, bac and the. Quoth Ubbe, “Bernard, hwat is thee? Hwo haves thee thus ille maked, Thus to-riven and al mad naked?” “Louerd, merci,” quot he sone, line1955“Tonicht, al so ros the mone, Comen her mo than sixti theves With lokene copes and wide sleves, Me for to robben and to pine, And for to drepe me and mine. line1960Mi dore he broken up ful sket, And wolde me binden hond and fet. Wan the godemen that sawe, Havelok and he that bi the wowe Leye, he stirten up sone onon line1965And summe grop tre and sum grop ston And drive hem ut, thei he weren crus, So dogges ut of milne-hous. Havelok grop the dore-tre, And a dint he slow hem thre. line1970He is the beste man at nede That everemar shal ride stede — Als helpe God, bi mine wone A thousend men his he worth one! Yif he ne were, ich were now ded — line1975So have ich don mi soule red! But it is of him mikel sinne: He maden him swilke woundes thrinne That of the altherleste wounde Were a stede brouht to grunde. line1980He haves a wunde in the side With a gleyve ful unride; And he haves on thoru his arum Ther of is full mikel harum; And he haves on thoru his the — line1985The unrideste that men may se. And othe wundes haves he stronge, Mo than twenti, swithe longe. But sithen he havede lauth the sor Of the wundes, was nevere bor line1990That so fauth, so he fauth thanne! Was non that havede the hernepanne So hard that he ne dede al to-cruhsse And al to-shivere and al to-frusshe. He folwede hem so hund dos hare — line1995Datheyt on he wolde spare, That ne made hem everilkon Ligge stille so doth the ston. And ther nis he nouth to frie For other sholde he make hem lye line2000Ded, or thei him havede slawen, Or al to-hewen or al to-drawen.

“Louerd, havi nomore plith Of that ich was grethed tonith. Thus wolde the theves me have reft; line2005But, God thank, he havenet sure keft! But it is of him mikel scathe — I woth that he bes ded ful rathe.”

Quoth Ubbe, “Bernard, seyst thou soth?” “Ya, sire, that I ne leye o tooth! line2010Yif I, louerd, a word leye, Tomorwen do me hengen heye.” The burgeys that ther bi stode thore Grundlike and grete othes swore, Litle and mikle, yunge and holde, line2015That was soth that Bernard tolde — Soth was that he wolden him bynde, And trusse al that he mithen fynde Of hise in arke or in kiste That he mouthe in seckes thriste. line2020“Louerd, he haveden al awey born His thing, and himself al to-torn, But als God self barw him wel, That he ne tinte no catel. Hwo mithe so mani stonde ageyn line2025Bi nither-tale, knith or swein? He weren bi tale sixti and ten — Starke laddes, stalworthi men, And on the mayster of hem alle, That was the name Griffin Galle. line2030Hwo mouthe ageyn so mani stonde, But als this man of ferne londe Haveth hem slawen with a tre? Mikel joie have he! God yeve him mikel god to welde, line2035Bothe in tun and ek in felde: Wel is set the mete he etes.” Quoth Ubbe, “Doth him swithe fete, That I mouthe his woundes se, If that he mouthen holed be; line2040For if he mouthe covere yet And gangen wel upon hise fet, Miself shal dubben him to knith, Forthi that he is so with. And yif he livede, tho foule theves, line2045That weren of Kaym kin and Eves, He sholden hange bi the necke — Of here ded datheit wo recke, Hwan he yeden thus on nithes Tobinde bothe burgmen and knithes! line2050For bynderes love ich neveremo — Of hem ne yeve ich nouht a slo.”

Havelok was bifore Ubbe browth, That havede for him ful mikel thouth And mikel sorwe in his herte line2055For hise wundes, that we so smerte.

But hwan his wundes weren shewed, And a leche havede knawed That he hem mouthe ful wel hele, Wel make him gange and ful wel mele, line2060And wel a palefrey bistride, And wel upon a stede ride, Tho let Ubbe al his care And al his sorwe over fare, And seyde, “Cum now forth with me, line2065And Goldeboru, thi wif, with thee, And thine serjaunz alle thre, For now wile I youre warant be: Wile I non of here frend That thu slowe with thin hend line2070Moucte wayte thee to slo Also thou gange to and fro. I shal lene thee a bowr That is up in the heye tour, Til thou mowe ful wel go line2075And wel ben hol of al thi wo. It ne shal nothing ben bitwene Thi bowr and min, al so I wene, But a fayr firrene wowe — Speke I loude or spek I lowe, line2080Thou shalt ful wel heren me, And than thu wilt thou shalt me se. A rof shal hile us bothe o nith, That none of mine, clerk ne knith, No sholen thi wif no shame bede line2085No more than min, so God me rede!”

He dide unto the borw bringe Sone anon, al with joiinge, His wif and his sergaunz thre, The beste men that mouthe be. line2090The first nith he lay ther inne, Hise wif and his serganz thrinne, Aboute the middel of the nith Wok Ubbe and saw a mikel lith In the bowr thar Havelok lay line2095Al so brith so it were day.

“Deus!” quoth Ubbe, “Hwat may this be? Betere is I go miself and se Hwether he sitten now and wesseylen, Or ani sotshipe to deyle, line2100This tid nithes also foles; Than birthe men casten hem in poles Or in a grip, or in the fen — Now ne sitten none but wicke men, Glotuns, revres, or wicke theves, line2105Bi Crist that alle folk onne leves!”

He stod and totede in at a bord Her he spak anilepi word And saw hem slepen faste ilkon And lye stille so the ston; line2110And saw al that mikel lith Fro Havelok cam that was so brith. Of his mouth it com il del — That was he war ful swithe wel. “Deus,” quoth he, “Hwat may this mene!” line2115He calde bothe arwe men and kene, Knithes and serganz swithe sleie, Mo than an hundred, withuten leye, And bad hem alle comen and se Hwat that selcuth mithe be. line2120Als the knithes were comen alle, Ther Havelok lay ut of the halle, So stod ut of his mouth a glem, Rith al swilk so the sunne-bem, That al so lith was thare, bi hevene, line2125So ther brenden serges sevene And an hundred serges ok That durste I sweren on a book! He slepen faste, alle five, So he weren brouth of live; line2130And Havelok lay on his lift side, In his armes his brithe bride: Bi the pappes he leyen naked — So faire two weren nevere maked In a bed to lyen samen. line2135The knithes thouth of hem god gamen, Hem for to shewe and loken to. Rith al so he stoden alle so, And his bac was toward hem wend, So weren he war of a croiz ful gent line2140On his right shuldre swithe brith, Brithter than gold ageyn the lith, So that he wiste, heye and lowe, That it was kunrik that he sawe. It sparkede and ful brith shon line2145So doth the gode charbuncle ston That men see mouthe se by the lith A peni chesen, so was it brith. Thanne bihelden he him faste, So that he knewen at the laste line2150That he was Birkabeynes sone, That was here king, that was hem wone Wel to yeme and wel were Ageynes uten-laddes here — “For it was nevere yet a brother line2155In al Denemark so lich another, So this man, that is so fayr, Als Birkabeyn; he is hise eyr.”

He fellen sone at hise fet. Was non of hem that he ne gret — line2160Of joye he weren alle so fawen So he him haveden of erthe drawen. Hise fet he kisten an hundred sythes — The tos, the nayles, and the lithes — So that he bigan to wakne line2165And wit hem ful sore to blakne, For he wende he wolden him slo, Or elles binde him and do wo.

Quoth Ubbe, “Louerd, ne dred thee nowth, Me thinkes that I se thi thouth. line2170Dere sone, wel is me That I thee with eyn se. Manred, louerd, bede I thee — Thi man auht I ful wel to be; For thu art comen of Birkabeyn, line2175That havede mani knith and sweyn, And so shalt thou, louerd, have: Thou thou be yet a ful yung knave Thou shalt be King of al Denemark — Was ther inne never non so stark. line2180Tomorwen shaltu manrede take Of the brune and of the blake, Of alle that aren in this tun, Bothe of erl and of barun, And of dreng and of thayn line2185And of knith and of sweyn. And so shaltu ben mad knith Wit blisse, for thou art so with.”

Tho was Havelok swithe blithe, And thankede God ful fele sithe. line2190On the morwen, wan it was lith, And gon was thisternesse of the nith, Ubbe dide upon a stede A ladde lepe, and thider bede Erles, barouns, drenges, theynes, line2195Klerkes, knithes, burgeys, sweynes, That he sholden comen anon Biforen him sone everilkon, Al so he loven here lives And here children and here wives.

line2200His bode ne durste he non atsitte That he ne neme for to wite, Sone hwat wolde the justise; And bigan anon to rise And seyde sone, “Lithes me, line2205Alle samen, theu and fre, A thing ich wile you here shauwe That ye alle ful wel knawe. Ye witen wel that al this lond Was in Birkabeynes hond line2210The day that he was quic and ded, And how that he, bi youre red Bitauhte hise children thre Godard to yeme, and al his fe. Havelok his sone he him tauhte line2215And hise two douhters and al his auhte. Alle herden ye him swere On bok and on messe gere That he shulde yemen hem wel, Withuten lac, withuten tel.

line2220He let his oth all overgo — Evere wurthe him yvel and wo! For the maydnes here lif Refte he bothen with a knif, And him shulde ok have slawen — line2225The knif was at his herte drawen. But God him wolde wel have save: He havede rewnesse of the knave So that he with his hend Ne drop him nouth, that sori fend! line2230But sone dide he a fishere Swithe grete othes swere, That he sholde drenchen him In the se, that was ful brim. Hwan Grim saw that he was so fayr, line2235And wiste he was the rith eir, Fro Denemark ful sone he fledde Intil Englond and ther him fedde Mani winter that til this day Haves he ben fed and fostred ay. line2240Lokes hware he stondes her! In al this werd ne haves he per — Non so fayr, ne non so long, Ne non so mikel, ne non so strong. In this middelerd nis no knith line2245Half so strong ne half so with. Bes of him ful glad and blithe, And cometh alle hider swithe, Manrede youre louerd for to make, Bothe brune and the blake — line2250I shal miself do first the gamen And ye sithen alle samen.” O knes ful fayre he him sette — Mouthe nothing him ther fro lette, And bicam is man rith thare, line2255That alle sawen that there ware.

After him stirt up laddes ten And bicomen hise men, And sithen everilk a baroun That evere weren in al that toun, line2260And sithen drenges, and sithen thaynes And sithen knithes, and sithen sweynes; So that, or that day was gon, In al the tun ne was nouth on That it ne was his man bicomen — line2265Manrede of alle havede he nomen.

Hwan he havede of hem alle Manrede taken in the halle, Grundlike dide he hem swere That he sholden him god feyth bere line2270Ageynes alle that woren on live; Ther-yen ne wolde never on strive, That he ne maden sone that oth — Riche and poure, lef and loth. Hwan that was maked, sone he sende line2275Ubbe writes fer and hende, After alle that castel yemede, Burwes, tunes, sibbe an fremde That thider sholden comen swithe Til him and heren tithandes blithe line2280That he hem alle shulde telle. Of hem ne wolde nevere on dwelle, That he ne come sone plattinde; Hwo hors ne havede, com gangande. So that withinne a fourtenith line2285In al Denemark ne was no knith, Ne conestable, ne shireve, That com of Adam and of Eve, That he ne com biforn sire Ubbe — He dredden him so thef doth clubbe. line2290Hwan he haveden alle the king gret And he weren alle dun-set, Tho seyde Ubbe, “Lokes here Ure louerd swithe dere, That shal ben king of al the lond line2295And have us alle under hond, For he is Birkabeynes sone, The king that was umbe stonde wone Us for to yemen and wel were With sharp swerd and longe spere. line2300Lokes now, hw he is fayr: Sikerlike he is hise eyr. Falles alle to his fet — Bicomes hise men ful sket.” He weren for Ubbe swithe adrad line2305And dide sone al that he bad. And yet he deden sumdel more: O bok ful grundlike he swore That he sholde with him halde, Bothe ageynes stille and bolde line2310That evere wolde his bodi dere. That dide he hem o boke swere.

Hwan he havede manrede and oth Taken of lef and of loth, Ubbe dubbede him to knith line2315With a swerd ful swithe brith, And the folk of al the lond Bitauhte him al in his hond, The cunnriche everil del And made him king heylike and wel. line2320Hwan he was king, ther mouthe men se The moste joye that mouhte be — Buttinge with sharpe speres, Skirming with talevaces that men beres, Wrastling with laddes, putting of ston, line2325Harping and piping, ful god won, Leyk of mine, of hasard ok, Romanz reding on the bok. Ther mouthe men here the gestes singe, The glewmen on the tabour dinge. line2330Ther moutthe men se the boles beyte, And the bores, with hundes teyte. Tho mouhte men se everil glew; Ther mouthe men se hw grim grew — Was nevere yete joye more line2335In al this werd than tho was thore. Ther was so mikel yeft of clothes That, thou I swore you grete othes, I ne wore nouth ther of trod. That may I ful wel swere, bi God! line2340There was swithe gode metes And of wyn that men fer fetes, Rith al so mik and gret plenté So it were water of the se. The feste fourti dawes sat — line2345So riche was nevere non so that. The king made Roberd there knith, That was ful strong and ful with, And Willam Wendut hec, his brother, And Huwe Raven, that was that other, line2350And made hem barouns alle thre, And yaf hem lond and other fe, So mikel that ilker twenti knihtes Havede of genge, dayes and nithes.

Hwan that feste was al don, line2355A thusand knihtes ful wel o bon Withheld the king with him to lede, That ilkan havede ful god stede, Helm and sheld, and brinie brith, And al the wepne that fel to knith. line2360With hem ek five thusand gode Sergaunz that weren to fyht wode Withheld he al of his genge — Wile I namore the storie lenge. Yet hwan he havede of al the lond line2365The casteles alle in his hond, And conestables don therinne, He swor he ne sholde never blinne Til that he were of Godard wreken, That ich have of ofte speken. line2370Half hundred knithes dede he calle, And hise fif thusand sergaunz alle, And dide sweren on the bok Sone, and on the auter ok, That he ne sholde nevere blinne, line2375Ne for love ne for sinne, Til that he haveden Godard funde And brouth biforn him faste bunde.

Thanne he haveden swor this oth, Ne leten he nouth, for lef ne loth, line2380That he foren swithe rathe Ther he was, unto the pathe Ther he yet on hunting for, With mikel genge and swithe stor. Robert, that was of all the ferd line2385Mayster, girt was wit a swerd, And sat upon a ful god stede, That under him rith wolde wede. He was the firste that with Godard Spak, and seyde, “Hede, cavenard! line2390Wat dos thu here at this pathe? Cum to the king swithe and rathe! That sendes he thee word and bedes, That thu thenke what thou him dedes Whan thu reftes with a knif line2395Hise sistres here lif And sithen bede thou in the se Drenchen him — that herde he! He is to thee swithe grim; Cum nu swithe unto him line2400That king is of this kunerike, Thou fule man, thou wicke swike! And he shal yelde thee thy mede, Bi Crist that wolde on Rode blede!”

Hwan Godard herde that he ther thrette, line2405With the neve he Robert sette Biforn the teth a dint ful strong. And Robert kipt ut a knif long And smot him thoru the rith arum — Ther of was ful litel harum!

line2410Hwan his folk that saw and herde, Hwou Robert with here louerd ferde, He haveden him wel ner browt of live, Ne weren his two brethren and othre five Slowen of here laddes ten, line2415Of Godardes altherbeste men. Hwan the othre sawen that, he fledden, And Godard swithe loude gredde: “Mine knithes, hwat do ye? Sule ye thusgate fro me fle? line2420Ich have you fed and yet shal fede — Helpe me nw in this nede And late ye nouth mi bodi spille, Ne Havelok don of me hise wille! Yif ye it do, ye do you shame line2425And bringeth youself in mikel blame!” Hwan he that herden, he wenten ageyn, And slowen a knit and a sweyn Of the kinges oune men, And woundeden abuten ten. line2430The kinges men, hwan he that sawe, Scuten on hem, heye and lowe, And everilk fot of hem he slowe, But Godard one, that he flowe, So the thef men dos henge, line2435Or hund men shole in dike slenge. He bunden him ful swithe faste, Hwil the bondes wolden laste, That he rorede als a bole That wore parred in an hole line2440With dogges forto bite and beite. Were the bondes nouth to leite — He bounden him so fele sore That he gan crien Godes ore, That he sholde of his hend plette; line2445Wolden he nouht ther fore lette That he ne bounden hond and fet. Datheit that on that ther fore let! But dunten him so man doth bere And keste him on a scabbed mere, line2450Hise nese went unto the crice. So ledden he that ful swike Til he biforn Havelok was brouth, That he havede ful wo wrowht, Bothe with hungre and with cold line2455Or he were twel winter old, And with mani hevi swink, With poure mete and feble drink, And swithe wikke clothes, For al hise manie grete othes. line2460Nu beyes he his holde blame: Old sinne makes newe shame! Wan he was so shamelike Brouth biforn the king, the fule swike! The king dede Ubbe swithe calle line2465Hise erles and hise barouns alle, Dreng and thein, burgeis and knith, And bad he sholden demen him rith, For he knew the swike dam; Everil del God was him gram! line2470He setten hem dun bi the wawe, Riche and pouere, heye and lowe, The helde men and ek the grom, And made ther the rithe dom And seyden unto the king anon, line2475That stille sat so the ston: “We deme that he be al quic flawen And sithen to the galwes drawe At this foule mere tayl, Thoru his fet a ful strong nayl, line2480And thore ben henged wit two feteres And thare be writen thise leteres: ‘This is the swike that wende wel The king have reft the lond ilk del, And hise sistres with a knif line2485Bothe refte here lif.’ This writ shal henge bi him thare. The dom is demd — seye we namore.” Hwan the dom was demd and give, And he was wit the prestes shrive, line2490And it ne mouhte ben non other, Ne for fader ne for brother, But that he sholde tharne lif, Sket cam a ladde with a knif And bigan rith at the to line2495For to ritte and for to flo; And he bigan tho for to rore So it were grim or gore, That men mithe thethen a mile Here him rore, that fule file! line2500The ladde ne let nowith forthi, They he criede, “Merci! Merci!” That ne flow him everil del With knif mad of grunden stel. Thei garte bringe the mere sone, line2505Skabbed and ful ivele o bone, And bunden him rith at hire tayl With a rop of an old seyl And drowen him unto the galwes, Nouth bi the gate but over the falwes, line2510And henge him thore bi the hals — Datheit hwo recke: he was fals!

Thanne he was ded, that Sathanas, Sket was seysed al that his was In the kinges hand ilk del — line2515Lond and lith and other catel — And the king ful sone it yaf Ubbe in the hond, wit a fayr staf, And seyde, “Her ich sayse thee In al the lond, in al the fe . . . .” line2520Tho swor Havelok he sholde make, Al for Grim, of monekes blake A priorie to serven in ay Jhesu Crist, til Domesday, For the god he havede him don line2525Hwil he was pouere and ivel o bon. And ther of held he wel his oth, For he it made, God it woth, In the tun ther Grim was graven, That of Grim yet haves the name. line2530Of Grim bidde ich namore spelle. But wan Godrich herde telle, Of Cornwayle that was erl, That fule traytour, that mixed cherl! That Havelok King was of Denemark, line2535And ferde with him, strong and stark Comen Engelond withinne, Engelond al for to winne; And that she that was so fayr, That was of Engelond rith eir, line2540Was comen up at Grimesbi, He was ful sorful and sori, And seyde, “Hwat shal me to rathe? Goddoth, I shal do slon hem bathe! I shal don hengen hem ful heye line2545So mote ich brouke my rith eie, But yif he of mi londe fle. Hwat! Wenden he deserite me?” He dide sone ferd ut bidde, That al that evere mouhte o stede line2550Ride or helm on heved bere, Brini on bac, and sheld and spere, Or ani other wepne bere, Hand-ax, sythe, gisarm, or spere, Or aunlaz and god long knif, line2555That als he lovede leme or lif, That they sholden comen him to, With ful god wepne yboren, so To Lincolne, ther he lay, Of Marz the sevententhe day, line2560So that he couthe hem god thank; And yif that ani were so rank That he thanne ne come anon, He swor bi Crist and by Seint Johan, That he sholde maken him thral, line2565And al his ofspring forth withal.

The Englishe that herde that, Was non that evere his bode sat; For he him dredde swithe sore, So runcy spore, and mikle more. line2570At the day he come sone That he hem sette, ful wel o bone, To Lincolne with gode stedes, And al the wepne that knith ledes. Hwan he wore come, sket was the erl yare line2575Ageynes Denshe men to fare, And seyde, “Lythes nw alle samen! Have ich gadred you for no gamen, But ich wile seyen you forthi. Lokes hware here at Grimesbi line2580Hise uten laddes here comen, And haves nu the priorie numen — Al that evere mithen he finde, He brenne kirkes and prestes binde; He strangleth monkes and nunnes bothe — line2585Wat wile ye, frend, her-offe rede? Yif he regne thusgate longe, He moun us alle overgange, He moun us alle quic henge or slo, Or thral maken and do ful wo line2590Or elles reve us ure lives And ure children and ure wives. But dos nw als ich wile you lere, Als ye wile be with me dere. Nimes nu swithe forth and rathe line2595And helpes me and yuself bathe, And slos upo the dogges swithe. For shal I nevere more be blithe, Ne hoseled ben ne of prest shriven Til that he ben of londe driven. line2600Nime we swithe and do hem fle And folwes alle faste me! For ich am he of al the ferd That first shal slo with drawen swerd. Datheyt hwo ne stonde faste line2605Bi me hwil hise armes laste!” “Ye! lef, ye!” quoth the erl Gunter; “Ya!” quoth the Erl of Cestre, Reyner. And so dide alle that ther stode And stirte forth so he were wode. line2610Tho mouthe men se the brinies brihte On backes keste and lace rithe, The helmes heye on heved sette. To armes al so swithe plette That thei wore on a litel stunde line2615Grethet als men mithe telle a pund, And lopen on stedes sone anon; And toward Grimesbi, ful god won, He foren softe bi the sti Til he come ney at Grimesbi.

line2620Havelok, that havede spired wel Of here fare, everil del, With all his ferd cam hem ageyn. Forbar he nother knith ne sweyn: The firste knith that he ther mette line2625With the swerd so he him grette, For his heved of he plette — Wolde he nouth for sinne lette. Roberd saw that dint so hende — Wolde he nevere thethen wende, line2630Til that he havede another slawen With the swerd he held ut drawen. Willam Wendut his swerd ut drow, And the thredde so sore he slow That he made upon the feld line2635His lift arm fleye with the swerd.

Huwe Raven ne forgat nouth The swerd he havede thider brouth. He kipte it up, and smot ful sore An erl that he saw priken thore line2640Ful noblelike upon a stede, That with him wolde al quic wede. He smot him on the heved so That he the heved clef a two. And that bi the shudre blade line2645The sharpe swerd let wade Thoru the brest unto the herte; The dint bigan ful sore to smerte, That the erl fel dun anon Al so ded so ani ston. line2650Quoth Ubbe, “Nu dwelle ich to longe!” And let his stede sone gonge To Godrich, with a god spere, That he saw another bere; And smot Godrich and Godrich him, line2655Hetelike with herte grim, So that he bothe felle dune To the erthe, first the croune. Thanne he woren fallen dun bothen, Grundlike here swerdes he ut drowen, line2660That weren swithe sharp and gode, And fouhten so thei woren wode That the swot ran fro the crune To the fet right there adune. Ther mouthe men se to knicthes bete line2665Ayther on other dintes grete, So that with the altherleste dint Were al to-shivered a flint. So was bitwenen hem a fiht Fro the morwen ner to the niht, line2670So that thei nouth ne blunne Til that to sette bigan the sunne. Tho yaf Godrich thorw the side Ubbe a wunde ful unride, So that thorw that ilke wounde line2675Havede ben brouth to grunde And his heved al of slawen, Yif God ne were and Huwe Raven, That drow him fro Godrich awey And barw him so that ilke day. line2680But er he were fro Godrich drawen, Ther were a thousind knihtes slawen Bi bothe halve and mo ynowe, Ther the ferdes togidere slowe, Ther was swilk dreping of the folk line2685That on the feld was nevere a polk That it ne stod of blod so ful That the strem ran intil the hul. Tho tarst bigan Godrich to go Upon the Danshe and faste to slo line2690And forthrith, also leun fares That nevere kines best ne spares, Thanne his gon, for he garte alle The Denshe men biforn him falle. He felde browne, he felde blake, line2695That he mouthe overtake. Was nevere non that mouhte thave Hise dintes, noyther knith ne knave, That he felde so dos the gres Biforn the sythe that ful sharp es. line2700Hwan Havelok saw his folk so brittene And his ferd so swithe littene, He cam drivende upon a stede, And bigan til him to grede, And seyde, “Godrich, wat is thee, line2705That thou fare thus with me And mine gode knihtes slos? Sikerlike, thou misgos! Thou wost ful wel, yif thu wilt wite, That Athelwold thee dide site line2710On knes and sweren on messe bok, On caliz and on pateyn ok, That thou hise douhter sholdest yelde, Than she were wimman of elde, Engelond everil del. line2715Godrich the erl, thou wost it wel! Do nu wel withuten fiht Yeld hire the lond, for that is rith. Wile ich forgive thee the lathe, Al mi dede and al mi wrathe, line2720For I se thu art so with And of thi bodi so god knith.” “That ne wile ich neveremo,” Quoth erl Godrich, “for ich shal slo Thee, and hire forhenge heye. line2725I shal thrist ut thy rith eye That thou lokes with on me, But thu swithe hethen fle!” He grop the swerd ut sone anon, And hew on Havelok ful god won, line2730So that he clef his sheld on two. Hwan Havelok saw that shame do His bodi ther biforn his ferd, He drow ut sone his gode swerd, And smote him so upon the crune line2735That Godrich fel to the erthe adune. But Godrich stirt up swithe sket — Lay ne nowth longe at hise fet — And smot him on the sholdre so That he dide thare undo line2740Of his brinie ringes mo Than that ich kan tellen fro, And woundede him rith in the flesh, That tendre was and swithe nesh, So that the blod ran til his to. line2745Tho was Havelok swithe wo, That he havede of him drawen Blod and so sore him slawen. Hertelike til him he wente And Godrich ther fulike shente, line2750For his swerd he hof up heye, And the hand he dide of fleye That he smot him with so sore — Hw mithe he don him shame more?

Hwan he havede him so shamed, line2755His hand of plat and ivele lamed, He tok him sone bi the necke Als a traitour, datheit who recke! And dide him binde and fetere wel With gode feteres al of stel, line2760And to the quen he sende him, That birde wel to him ben grim, And bad she sholde don him gete And that non ne sholde him bete, Ne shame do, for he was knith, line2765Til knithes haveden demd him rith. Than the Englishe men that sawe, That thei wisten, heye and lawe, That Goldeboru that was so fayr Was of Engelond rith eyr, line2770And that the king hire havede wedded, And haveden been samen bedded, He comen alle to crie “Merci,” Unto the king at one cri, And beden him sone manrede and oth line2775That he ne sholden, for lef ne loth, Neveremore ageyn him go, Ne ride, for wel ne for wo.

The king ne wolde nouth forsake That he ne shulde of hem take line2780Manrede that he beden and ok Hold othes sweren on the bok. But or bad he that thider were brouth The quen for hem swilk was his thouth For to se and forto shawe, line2785Yif that he hire wolde knawe — Thoruth hem witen wolde he Yif that she aucte quen to be.

Sixe erles weren sone yare After hire for to fare. line2790He nomen onon and comen sone, And brouthen hire, that under mone In al the werd ne havede per Of hendeleik, fer ne ner. Hwan she was come thider, alle line2795The Englishe men bigunne falle O knes, and greten swithe sore, And seyden, “Levedi, Kristes ore And youres! We haven misdo mikel That we ayen you have be fikel, line2800For Englond auhte for to ben Youres and we youre men. Is non of us, yung ne old, That he ne wot that Athelwold Was king of this kunerike line2805And ye his eyr, and that the swike Haves it halden with mikel wronge — God leve him sone to honge!”

Quot Havelok, “Hwan that ye it wite, Nu wile ich that ye doune site; line2810And after Godrich haves wrouht, That haves in sorwe himself brouth, Lokes that ye demen him rith, For dom ne spareth clerk ne knith, And sithen shal ich understonde line2815Of you, after lawe of londe, Manrede and holde othes bothe, Yif ye it wilen and ek rothe.” Anon ther dune he hem sette, For non the dom ne durste lette line2820And demden him to binden faste Upon an asse swithe unwraste, Andelong, nouht overthwert, His nose went unto the stert And so to Lincolne lede, line2825Shamelike in wicke wede, And, hwan he come unto the borw, Shamelike ben led ther thoru, Bi southe the borw unto a grene, That thare is yet, als I wene, line2830And there be bunden til a stake, Abouten him ful gret fir make, And al to dust be brend rith there. And yet demden he ther more, Other swikes for to warne: line2835That hise children sulde tharne Everemore that eritage That his was, for hise utrage.

Hwan the dom was demd and seyd, Sket was the swike on the asse leyd, line2840And led him til that ilke grene And brend til asken al bidene. Tho was Goldeboru ful blithe — She thanked God fele sythe That the fule swike was brend line2845That wende wel hire bodi have shend; And seyde, “Nu is time to take Manrede of brune and of blake, That ich se ride and go, Nu ich am wreke of mi fo.”

line2850Havelok anon manrede tok Of alle Englishe on the bok And dide hem grete othes swere That he sholden him god feyth bere Ageyn hem alle that woren lives line2855And that sholde ben born of wives.

Thanne he haveden sikernesse Taken of more and of lesse, Al at hise wille, so dide he calle The Erl of Cestre and hise men alle, line2860That was yung knith withuten wif, And seyde, “Sire erl, bi mi lif, And thou wile mi conseyl tro, Ful wel shal ich with thee do; For ich shal yeve thee to wive line2865The fairest thing that is o live. That is Gunnild of Grimesby, Grimes douther, bi Seint Davy, That me forth broute and wel fedde, And ut of Denemark with me fledde line2870Me for to burwe fro mi ded. Sikerlike, thoru his red, Have ich lived into this day — Blissed worthe his soule ay! I rede that thu hire take line2875And spuse and curteyse make, For she is fayr and she is fre, And al so hende so she may be. Ther tekene, she is wel with me; That shal ich ful wel shewe thee. line2880For ich wile give thee a give That everemore, hwil ich live, For hire shaltu be with me dere, That wile ich that this folc al here.” The erl ne wolde nouth ageyn line2885The king be, for knith ne sweyn Ne of the spusing seyen nay, But spusede that ilke day. That spusinge was in god time maked, For it ne were nevere, clad ne naked, line2890In a thede samened two That cam togidere, livede so So they diden al here live: He geten samen sones five, That were the beste men at nede line2895That mouthe riden on ani stede. Hwan Gunnild was to Cestre brouth, Havelok the gode ne forgat nouth Bertram, that was the erles kok, That he ne dide callen ok, line2900And seyde, “Frend, so God me rede, Nu shaltu have riche mede, For wissing and thi gode dede That tu me dides in ful gret nede. For thanne I yede in mi cuvel line2905And ich ne havede bred ne sowel. Ne I ne havede no catel, Thou feddes and claddes me ful wel. Have nu forthi of Cornwayle The erldom ilk del, withuten fayle, line2910And al the lond that Godrich held, Bothe in towne and ek in feld; And ther-to wile ich that thu spuse, And fayre bring hire until huse, Grimes douther, Levive the hende, line2915For thider shal she with thee wende. Hire semes curteys for to be, For she is fayr so flour on tre; The hew is swilk in hire ler So the rose in roser, line2920Hwan it is fayre sprad ut newe, Ageyn the sunne brith and lewe.” And girde him sone with the swerd Of the erldom, biforn his ferd, And with his hond he made him knith, line2925And yaf him armes, for that was rith, And dide him there sone wedde Hire that was ful swete in bedde.

After that he spused wore, Wolde the Erl nouth dwelle thore, line2930But sone nam until his lond And seysed it al in his hond And livede ther inne, he and his wif, An hundred winter in god lif, And gaten mani children samen line2935And liveden ay in blisse and gamen. Hwan the maidens were spused bothe, Havelok anon bigan ful rathe His Denshe men to feste wel Wit riche landes and catel, line2940So that he weren alle riche, For he was large and nouth chiche.

Ther after sone, with his here, For he to Lundone for to bere Corune, so that it sawe line2945Henglishe ant Denshe, heye and lowe, Hwou he it bar with mikel pride, For his barnage that was unride.

The feste of his coruning Lastede with gret joying line2950Fourti dawes and sumdel mo. Tho bigunnen the Denshe to go Unto the king to aske leve; And he ne wolde hem nouth greve, For he saw that he woren yare line2955Into Denemark for to fare; But gaf hem leve sone anon And bitauhte hem Seint Johan, And bad Ubbe, his justise, That he sholde on ilke wise line2960Denemark yeme and gete so That no pleynte come him to.

Hwan he wore parted alle samen, Havelok bilefte wit joye and gamen In Engelond and was ther-inne line2965Sixti winter king with winne, And Goldeboru Quen, that I wene So mikel love was hem bitwene That al the werd spak of hem two; He lovede hir and she him so line2970That neyther owe mithe be Fro other, ne no joye se But if he were togidere bothe. Nevere yete no weren he wrothe For here love was ay newe — line2975Nevere yete wordes ne grewe Bitwene hem hwar of ne lathe Mithe rise ne no wrathe.

He geten children hem bitwene Sones and doughtres rith fivetene, line2980Hwar-of the sones were kinges alle, So wolde God it sholde bifalle, And the douhtres alle quenes: Him stondes wel that god child strenes! Nu have ye herd the gest al thoru line2985Of Havelok and of Goldeboru — Hw he weren boren and hw fedde, And hwou he woren with wronge ledde In here youthe with trecherie, With tresoun, and with felounye; line2990And hwou the swikes haveden tiht Reven hem that was here rith, And hwou he weren wreken wel, Have ich seyd you everil del. Forthi ich wolde biseken you line2995That haven herd the rim nu, That ilke of you, with gode wille, Saye a Pater Noster stille For him that haveth the rym maked, And ther-fore fele nihtes waked, line3000That Jesu Crist his soule bringe Biforn his Fader at his endinge.

Amen