Fast then pricked king Arthùre 125 Ore hille, and dale, and downe: And soone he founde the barone's bowre: He bare his clubbe upon his backe, Hee stoode bothe stiffe and stronge; 130 And, when he had the letters reade, Awaye the lettres flunge. Nowe yielde thee, Arthur, and thy lands, For this is not thy paye, sir king, 135 Nor may thy ransome bee. I saw a ladye sette Betwene an oke, and a greene hollèye, All clad in red scarlette. Shee sayes, all women will have their wille, 145 This is their chief desyre; Now yield, as thou art a barone true, An earlye vengeaunce light on her! The carlish baron swore: Shee was my sister tolde thee this, And shee's a mishapen whore. But here I will make mine avowe, 150 To do her as ill a turne: For an ever I may that foule theefe gette, 155 PART THE SECONDE. HOMEWARDE pricked king Arthure, And a wearye man was hee; And soone he mette queene Guenever, That bride so bright of blee. What newes! what newes! thou noble king, 5 Howe, Arthur, hast thou sped? Where hast thou hung the carlish knighte? And where bestow'd his head? And nowe this fills my hearte with woe, And sorrowe of my life; I swore a yonge and courtlye knight, Then bespake him sir Gawaine, 15 20 That was ever a gentle knighte: That lothly ladye I will wed; Therefore be merrye and lighte. Now naye, nowe naye, good sir Gawàine; 25 This lothlye ladye's all too grimme, And all too foule for yee. Her nose is crookt and turn'd outwarde; Her chin stands all awrye; 30 A worse form'd ladye than shee is What though her chin stand all awrye, And shee be foule to see: I'll marry her, unkle, for thy sake, And I'll thy ransome bee. Nowe thankes, nowe thankes, good sir Gawàine; And a blessing thee betyde! To-morrow wee'll have knights and squires, And wee'll goe fetch thy bride. And wee'll have hawkes and wee'll have houndes, To cover our intent; And wee'll away to the greene forèst, As wee a hunting went. And when they came to the greene forrèst, There sate that ladye in red scarlette Sir Kay beheld that lady's face, Of his kisse he stands in feare. Sir Kay beheld that ladye againe, And looked upon her snout; Then bespake him king Arthure, And sware there by this daye; For a little foule sighte and mislikìnge, Yee shall not say her naye. Peace, lordings, peace; sir Gawaine sayd; Nor make debate and strife; This lothlye ladye I will take, And marry her to my wife. 80 Nowe thankes, nowe thankes, good sir Gawaine, 85 And a blessinge be thy meede! For as I am thine owne ladyè, Thou never shalt rue this deede. Then up they took that lothly dame, Percy. III. 4 90 And when they were in wed-bed laid, And all were done awaye: "Come turne to mee, mine owne wed-lord, Come turne to mee I praye." 95 Sir Gawaine scant could lift his head, For sorrowe and for care; When, lo! instead of that lothelye dame, 100 Sweet blushes stayn'd her rud-red cheeke, The ripening cherrye swellde her lippe, Sir Gawaine kiss'd that lady faire, 105 And swore, as he was a true knighte, Sir Gawaine kiss'd that lady brighte, Lying there by his side: "The fairest flower is not soe faire: Thou never can'st bee my bride." 110 I am thy bride, mine owne deare lorde, That was soe lothlye, and was wont 115 Upon the wild more to goe: Nowe, gentle Gawaine, chuse, quoth shee, Whether by night, or else by daye, Shall I be foule or faire? 120 "To have thee foule still in the night, When I with thee should playe! |