Item 20, Lybeaus Desconus

Item 20, LYBEAUS DESCONUS: FOOTNOTE

1 Lines 2075–77: In truth, a woman so fair / In every way / He had never seen before

Item 20, LYBEAUS DESCONUS: EXPLANATORY NOTES


Abbreviations: CT: Chaucer, The Canterbury Tales; EETS: Early English Text Society; L: London, Lambeth Palace Library MS 306; MED: Middle English Dictionary; MWME: The Manual of Writings in Middle English; N: Naples, Bibliotheca Nazionale MS XIII B.29; NIMEV: A New Index of Middle English Verse.

Title Lybeus Dysconius. In brown ink (unlike the usual black) but in Rate’s hand. Rate follows this spelling (or slight variants of it) throughout. The text begins one-third down the page of fol. 38v.

7 Gyngeleyn. In Le Bel Inconnu the hero’s true name (Guinglain) is not revealed until the end. Gyngeleyn (Gyngolyn, Gyngalyn) appears in other Arthurian texts, including the Post-Vulgate Queste del Saint Graal (where he is defeated by Arthur the Less) and Malory’s Morte Darthur (where he joins the plot to trap Lancelot in adultery with Guinevere and is eventually slain by Lancelot); for further details, see the entry for “Guinglain” in Bruce, Arthurian Name Dictionary (pp. 246–47). In The Wedding of Sir Gawain and Dame Ragnelle, a version of the Loathly Lady folktale that resembles Chaucer’s Wife of Bath’s Tale, Gyngeleyn is mentioned as the offspring of Gawain’s marriage to Dame Ragnelle; see The Wedding of Sir Gawain and Dame Ragnelle, line 799 (Hahn, Sir Gawain, p. 69).

8 Getyn he was of Sir Gawyne. Gawain is one of the most complex Arthurian characters, changing dramatically in different contexts. As Arthur’s nephew and the sometime rival of Lancelot, Gawain plays a major role in many romances. Middle English literature tends to emphasize his courtesy and his embodiment of the chivalric ideal, though his frequent womanizing also receives attention as well. French romances discuss many of his sexual liaisons; some border on rape, but more commonly young maidens enthusiastically seek him out (see B. J. Whiting, “Gawain: His Reputation, His Courtesy and His Appearance in Chaucer’s Squire’s Tale”). The phrasing here suggests — but does not clearly specify — rape.

15 Basterd thoff he were. Bastardy was often imagined as manifesting itself in moral or physical defect.

16 His moder hym kepte with alle hyr myght. In Le Bel Inconnu, Guinglain’s mother is a fairy named Blanchemal, but no suggestion of her otherworldly power appears in Chestre’s text.

25 so feyr and wyse. Though Lybeaus has already been described as wytty (intelligent), this description of his wisdom seems to contradict the rash violence mentioned in the previous stanza as well as his nyse (ignorance) mentioned in line 28. This inconsistency runs throughout the text, perhaps because Chestre has diminished the hero’s tendency to rashness and uncouth outbursts but has not entirely eliminated his sources’ depictions of the sauvage youth.

26 Beuys. The name clearly should be “Beaufis” or “Bewfiz,” which would mean “handsome son.” Rate’s grasp of French seems tenuous, and he makes similar mistakes elsewhere. He may be evoking another famous romance hero, Bevis (or Beues) of Hampton, who is not otherwise connected to this story.

33 bename. “To take, to seize.” MED does not include this verb form, but it clearly comes from the common Middle English verb “nimen.” Rough play with wild animals is a common motif in stories of the enfant sauvage (wild child).

36 Sleyn and made full tame. In some of the sources and analogues to this story, the hero kills the knight in order to acquire arms.

38–39 Gyngeleyn shows his innate knighthood in intuitively removing the armor from the slain knight and putting it on himself. Perceval, in comparison, has trouble with the task (to great comic effect) in the Middle English Perceval of Galles, until he is helped by Gawain, who was sent by the king to report on the fight. Similarly humorous scenes occur in other versions of the Perceval story.

41 Glastunbery. Glastonbury, in the southwest of England, is only occasionally associated with Arthur’s court in the surviving Arthurian romances. But in 1191 the monks of Glastonbury Abbey claimed to have discovered Arthur’s grave in their graveyard, and Glastonbury has since then been an active center of the Arthurian cult.

80 Lybeus Disconyus. From Le Bel Inconnu, “The Fair Unknown.” These kinds of epithets for people and places are common in Arthurian romance.

91 He caste on hym in a pylte. The idiom here is not a common one, and seems to be the result of Rate having altered the rhyme of the couplet to conform with his spelling overgylte (instead of overgeld in the other manuscripts, where it rhymes with scheld).

98 Full sone the kyng a boune he bade. Asking a boon of the king (often the privilege of fighting a particular battle) is a common motif in Arthurian romance, and often is an example of “the rash boon,” a gift that immediately becomes embarrassing or difficult to give. See Sir Cleges (item 24) for another example (and also Frappier, “Le Motif du ‘don contraignant’ dans la littérature du moyen âge.”)

135 stowte. MED cites this line for stowte, meaning “noble,” “princely,” “splendidly adorned,” the latter sense being well attested by his finery. But the sense might also be “fierce,” an implication evident in the fury with which he approaches Arthur (lines 193–204), demonstrating well that he is “stowte in herte” (line 138).

163 Synadon. The city of Segontium, also known as Caer Seint, at the foot of Mount Snowdon (hence Synadon) in north Wales (see C. Loomis, “From Segontium to Sinadon — Legends of a Cité Gaste”).

181 The may began to chyd. Elyne embodies the romance motif of the demoisele mesdisante, a sharp-tongued maid who never hesitates to voice severe criticism, particularly when the hero engages in something foolhardy.

191 Persyvall. Perceval, a knight of the Round Table whose introduction to Arthur’s court resembles that of Lybeaus Desconus. In the various texts that treat his childhood, Perceval is raised by his widowed mother in the forest, barges into Arthur’s court demanding to be knighted, and subsequently overcomes his boorish manners. Perceval also becomes one of the central characters in the various romances of the Grail quest.

202–03 the Poynte Perelus / Besyde the Chapell of Antrus. Various bridges in Arthurian romance earn the name “Perilous Bridge,” including the famous sword bridge crossed by Lancelot in his attempt to rescue Guinevere. Antrus is a corrupt form of the name found in other manuscripts, Awntrous, and the Chapell of Antrus may be translated as “the Chapel of Adventures.” Chapels, often enchanted, are the sites of numerous encounters in Arthurian romance, including the Green Chapel in Sir Gawain and the Green Knight and the Perilous Chapel governed by the enchantress Hellawes in Malory’s Morte Darthur.

239 Tyll the bord was up-brayd. In medieval halls, the large dining tables were movable boards, taken up and stored after meals to make space for other activities.

256 Eweyn. A Middle English form of Yvain or Owein, the son of King Urien and a knight of the Round Table. Yvain is a prominent figure in various romances, including Chrétien de Troyes’s Yvain and its Middle English adaptation, Ywain and Gawain.

257 Geffreyn. A corruption of Agravain, Gawain’s brother and a knight of the Round Table who appears in many Arthurian romances. Agravain later earns notoriety for his betrayal of Lancelot’s affair with Guinevere.

265 his awne fere. The obvious gloss for fere is “companion,” in that Arthur had assigned Lybeaus to Gawain for training in “prinsys pley” (line 96). But it may also imply the yet-unknown kinship, as Gawain, his father, gives him an identifying coat of arms, as he hangs the shield emblazoned with a griffin over his neck. This later reading is supported by both L and British Library MS Cotton Caligula A.2, which read “his owne syre.”

293 Sone upon the knyght. Rate has omitted the final word of the line, “alweye,” and thus confused the sense of the passage; Elyne and Wendeleyn criticize Lybeaus continually for three days.

374 With suerdys on to dynge. This is an example of eyeskip; Rate has replaced the line ending of his copy-text, “out to flynge,” with the ending of line 376.

396 That many a man it syghe. Since no one else is present besides Wendeleyn and Elyne, the expression is merely figurative.

411 Thow schall to Arthor wende. Arthur acts as both a lordly receiver of tribute and as a recording authority or audience who validates the accomplishments of the hero. See Maddox’s discussion of this arrangement in The Arthurian Romances of Chrétien de Troyes, pp. 14–25.

474 Game and grete solace. As M. Mills notes, these lines certainly suggest “a night of love-making,” unelaborated otherwise (Lybeaus Desconus, p. 58).

485 Skarlyon. Caerleon, in Wales, one of the traditional locations of Arthur’s Round Table, though perhaps not yet added to his realm in this romance (see line 573).

502–03 anone / And lefte hym ther as lame. Line missing, presumably the line that follows in N: “And brake in two his thigh bone.”

616 Two gyantys. This episode has roots in the twelfth-century Roman de Brut by Wace, one of the seminal accounts of Arthurian legend. In Wace’s Brut, Arthur travels to Mont St. Michel and attacks a giant who has raped and killed a young woman as the giant roasts pork over a fire (Wace, Roman de Brut, lines 11319–11552).

699 In Frenche boke as it is in found. Though this phrase suggests that Chestre is working directly from a French source, several factors limit the certainty of this interpretation. Several other manuscripts preserve entirely different readings of this line, and it is a common formula used by many other Middle English romances.

716 Anter. A character with a similar name (Antor, Antour) appears in several Arthurian romances as Arthur’s foster father and the father of Kay the Seneschal. See The Erle of Tolous (item 19), line 853 and note. Perhaps the name is meant to evoke loose associations of benevolent paternity.

717 Vyolete. A name that suggests her narrowly-avoided fate as a violated woman.

745 Gafe Lybeus to mede. In British Library MS Cotton Caligula A.2, another stanza describes Earl Antore’s offer of his land and daughter as reward for Lybeaus’s valor, prompting Lybeaus to declare that he is not yet ready to marry.

772 A joly faucon whyte as fome. The most famous version of this motif appears in Erec et Enide by Chrétien de Troyes, where the hero wins his wife in a similar contest of beauty.

775 Gefferon. Chestre’s text introduces the name of this knight rather haphazardly, only providing his full name, Gefferon LeFroudeus (given as LeFlowdous in some other manuscripts) at line 795.

797 begyle. As M. Mills notes in his edition, this description of Gefferon seems unjustified, since he fights honorably (Lybeaus Desconus, p. 221). It may simply suggest that Gefferon has been consistently triumphant, the ruin of many a knight.

844 Cardull. Possibly Carlisle, in northern England, but, as M. Mills argues, the Welsh city of Cardiff is more likely (Lybeaus Desconus, p. 222). As in many romances, the geography of the poem bears only a distant connection to reality.

953 Betwyx them is partye. In comparison to other versions of this motif, the outcome here is surprising. Usually the hero’s lady is judged more beautiful, prompting a combat to settle the dispute. Though Elyne has been described as bryght, schene, and sembly (lines 120–32), perhaps her beauty is downplayed here so that Lybeaus’s attempt to win the falcon seems all the more rash. Since Lybeaus does not ultimately marry Elyne, the judgment against her may also remind the audience that Lybeaus’s fortunes in marriage have yet to be determined. The phrase betwyx . . . is partye is not entirely clear, and does not appear to be a common expression, though the context makes it clear that the spectators prefer Gefferon’s lady.

1030 Lucas. Other manuscripts name him Gludas, Cadas, Claudas, and Clewdas.

1038 In the left margin of the leaf, a contemporary hand, very possibly Rate’s, has written Nota by this line. It is not clear what this annotation means to emphasize.

1069 a rache. This recalls a similarly multicolored dog, Peti-Greu or Peticrew, given as a love token to Isolde by Tristan in the various Tristan romances, including the Middle English Sir Tristrem (see Lupack, Lancelot of the Laik and Sir Tristrem, pp. 224–25, lines 2399–2420).

1110 Otys de la Byle. Other manuscripts name him Otes de Lyle.

1120 Rate’s spelling of the insult, carle, and the place name, Carlehyll has created a little joke here, perhaps inspired by another Middle English romance, Sir Gawain and the Carle of Carlisle.

1196 In romans to rede ryght. See note to line 699 for the difficulties in interpreting this line.

1210 hys sonnys fowre. The appearance of Sir Otys’s sons is not otherwise mentioned, and seems an afterthought on the part of Chestre.

1245 Under a cheston tre. M. Mills (Lybeaus Desconus, p. 230) notes the romance motif of one character (often supernatural) overcoming another under a tree, as in Sir Orfeo (see item 39, line 57).

1323 Magus. In the French Le Bel Inconnu, one of the probable sources for Chestre’s poem, the defender of this island is a knight (not a giant) who guards a causeway for seven years so that he might win the love of the Lady of the Isle of Gold.

1326 pyche. Rate or his copy-text has also omitted the following line here, perhaps “Lybeus saw never non syche” (as in N).

1362 stylle. Rate or his copy-text has also omitted a line here, perhaps “Thoughe that I be lyte” (as in L).

1373 Fowre mawmentys. The Middle English word mawment (idol, pagan god) derives from the prophet Mohammed, though the implication that the giant Magus is Muslim is only vague.

1375 sone he rode. In line 1389, Magus is described as advancing on foot, a more likely method for a giant. The seeming discrepancy can be traced back to Chestre’s inconsistency in transforming his sources.

1399 Termegant. A god wrongly (but widely) supposed to be worshipped by Muslims; see note to line 1373.

1444 Magus grantyd hys wyll. This recalls a corresponding episode in the Anglo-Norman and Middle English romances known as Guy of Warwick. In those stories, Guy fights the giant Amourant, until the giant becomes thirsty and asks for a chance to drink. Guy agrees, but the giant later attacks Guy as he takes his own turn to drink. When Guy recovers and strikes back at the giant, he makes a similar reference to his “baptism” (see lines 1457–61 below, and see Zupitza, Romance of Guy of Warwick, 3:481–83). See also Spenser’s Faerie Queen 1.11.29–34, where the Redcrosse Knight falls into a “Well of Life” during a fight with a dragon and later rises up healed as if baptized.

1455 Now ame I to thee lyght. Rate’s revision misses the little joke present in the other manuscripts, which read “Nowe am Y two so light,” (i.e., twice as light without his armor).

1499 Denamowre. A badly corrupted form of the name given in other manuscripts, La Dame d’ Amoure (the Lady of Love). Rate’s form loses the erotic power inhering in the name.

1511 caste. Two lines are missing after this line, perhaps (as in L) “For sche was bright and shene. / Alas she hadde be chaste!” Though the lines may have been missing in Rate’s exemplar, it is also possible that he omitted them due to their sug-gestion of a sexual liaison. But line 1513 — “sche dyde hym traye and tene” — nevertheless hints at Denamowre’s seduction of Lybeaus.

1552 Syr Gesloke. This steward is named “Gyffet” in British Library MS Cotton Caligula A.2 and “Turfete” in L. Robert W. Ackerman suggests a link with Girflet, son of Do of Carduel, who became a knight of the Round Table and was slain by Lancelot in the abduction of Guinevere (Index of the Arthurian Names in Middle English, p. 112).

1574 Lamberte. Rate’s presentation of this character resembles the depiction in N, but differs from that in other manuscripts. He is not described as a giant elsewhere and other manuscripts describe a brutal custom of the residents of Synadowne, in which the knights defeated by Lamberte are covered with filth. Neither version is entirely coherent in its portrayal of Lamberte. Knight suggests that the name evokes the Lombards, the great bankers of the later Middle Ages, and their powerful importance to aristocratic landholders (“Social Function of Middle English Romances,” pp. 106–07). Lombardy is the setting of Sir Launfal’s great tournament with a giant prior to his return to Arthur’s court in Chester’s Sir Launfal.

1624 thre lionus. The line has been emended on the basis of N, L, and the other related manuscripts, but Blanchfield argues that Rate’s reading, “thre loxus” (i.e., salmon), is intended to recall his own drawings of fish scattered throughout Ashmole 61 (“Idiosyncratic Scribe,” pp. 133–34).

1697 Peyzen, vynteyl, and gourger. The pisane is a piece of metal or mail attached to the helmet and covering the neck and upper breast; the ventail, sometimes attached to the helmet, protects the lower face, upper chest, and upper back, while still allowing the knight to breathe; and the gorger also covers the neck.

1699 upryght. This stanza and the following are defective, with several lines missing (describing Lambert’s unsteadiness in the saddle and the crowd’s reaction); Rate’s copy-text may have been damaged here or he may have been abridging the story.

1717 Yyff thou were of Gaweyns kynne. Another reminder of Lybeaus’s unrevealed ancestry.

1765 Klerkys of nygromansye. The term clerk often refers to anyone of considerable learning. Though magic is a common feature of romances and can be employed by good and bad characters for a variety of reasons, when it is described as necromancy it usually implies either evil sorcery or dangerous meddling with divine secrets.

1790 To weld all with wyne. Rate has omitted three lines completing Sir Lambert’s description of the Lady of Synadone, present in L and the other related manuscripts: “She is meke and bonoure; / Therfor we ar in spere / Luste they done hir synne.” He has also omitted three lines at the end of the stanza; see note to line 1793.

1793 That lady wyll I wynne. Rate has omitted three lines from the end of this stanza; present in L and the other related manuscripts: “Bothe Mabon and Irayne / I shall hewen in the playne, / The hedys by the chynne.”

1823 Yyf he wold ther abyde. Some of the analogues and possible sources for this story make it clear that Lybeaus must undertake this final adventure by himself, but in Chestre’s version, his dismissal of Gesloke seems only another example of Lybeaus’s rash bravery.

1831 the pales. The haunting description of the enchanted palace recalls descriptions of similar palaces, including the Fairy King’s palace in Sir Orfeo (item 39). See Patch, Other World, pp. 290–94.

1896 the feld. Since the battle seems to be taking place indoors, this reference and subsequent references to “the field” apparently simply mean a place of battle, whether indoors or out. Chestre is considering the hall a “battlefield” in the general sense, and relying on various formulas for descriptions of battle.

1959 Lybeus faught with them bothe. A line is missing here, present in L and the other related manuscripts: “Though they weren wrothe.”

2009–11 Like N, Rate’s copy-text had these lines instead of three lines present in the Cotton MS and in L explaining that Mabon has poisoned the swords. As a result of this foul play, Lybeaus’s refusal to spare Mabon’s life seems more explicable in those manuscripts.

2093–95 Tyll I had kyssed Gaweyn. The Lady of Synadone’s situation resembles many folk tales, including the legends of the “Loathly Lady,” a beautiful woman cursed to be an ugly hag until someone chooses to marry her. Chaucer’s Wife of Bath’s Tale and Gower’s “Tale of Florent” in Confessio Amantis are only two of the more famous versions of this legend; see also The Wedding of Sir Gawain and Dame Ragnelle (Hahn, Sir Gawain, pp. 41–80). Most versions of the influential Mandeville’s Travels feature a lady on an island in the Aegean who is cursed by a witch to be a dragon until a knight kisses her; though she promises suitors that she will turn back into a lovely woman and reward them with wealth, no one can withstand her hot breath or brave her appearance (see, for example, Seymour, Defective Version of Mandeville’s Travels, pp. 15–16).

2127 This confusion about the ultimate fate of Irain stems from various changes made in earlier copies of the text. An earlier reviser of the poem inserted the stanza describing Lybeaus’s discovery and decapitation of Irain, left unaccounted for in other versions, but failed to emend this line. That Irain has been killed is confirmed by lines 2137–39.

Item 20, LYBEAUS DESCONUS: TEXTUAL NOTES

Abbreviations: see Explanatory Notes.

1 MS: initial J is decorated with pen work and seven lines tall.

26 named. MS: naned.

38 he gane. MS: he gane he gan.

68 thing. MS: -ng cut off in margin, as this line is interpolated.

77 never his dame. MS: never dame.

101 fyrst. MS: fyst.

175 Quod. MS: Qud.

202 Perelus. MS: Perleus.

230 Here. MS: He.

233 Get. MS: Ge.

261 saun. MS: some.

276 lyon. MS: lygn.

277 knyght. MS: knyghtys.

281 MS: this whole line is written in the margin.

282 gone. MS: fone.

287 To. MS: T.

288 To. MS: T.

310 ought that may. MS: ought may.

313 Thei. MS: The.

318 Perelus. MS: Perleus.

325 When. MS: Whe.

327 Ho. MS: Thou.

375 Thei. MS: The.

395 two. MS: tw.

396 it syghe. MS: it.

421 MS: initial T is decorated with pen work and is five lines tall.

439 Dysconeus. MS: Dyconeus.

444 Thei. MS: The.

490 that meyd bryght. MS: that bryght.

523 poynt. MS: poyne.

577 Certys I schall. MS: Certys schall.

582 MS: initial L is decorated with pen work and is two lines tall.

624 yerne. MS: yene.

651 meydyn. MS: medyn.

672 The. MS: T.

682 he. MS: h he.

686 hys spyte brake. MS: hys brake.

693 caught. MS: caugh.

767 MS: for the love written in the margin following this line as a catchphrase.

779 To se in lenth. MS: In lenth.

792 By Jhesus. MS: a Jhesus.

801 This line begins more in the left margin than the rest of the text.

815 palace. MS: parlace.

829–30 MS: run together as one line.

839 I schall. MS: For to.

849 brown. MS: bowrn.

903 gan. MS: can.

914 border. MS: broder.

937 The here. MS: Ther.

947 soth. MS: sotht.

988 steke. MS: streke.

1011 as. MS: a.

1032 forth he. MS: for forthe.

1038 MS: Nota appears in the left margin here.

1044 honeste. MS: heneste.

1051 lefe to. MS: lefto.

1053 MS: Initial S is larger than usual.

1082 hym to meyd. MS: hym meyd.

1110 MS: a word has been scratched out before de la byle.

1129 thou lyste. MS: thou thinke beste lyste (thinke beste is marked for deletion).

1206 slew knyghts thre. MS: slew and the knyghts thre.

1229 basnet. MS: basnes.

1242 lenger. MS: leger.

1257 The. MS: Te.

1318 fyghtyng. MS: fyghyng.

1363 not. MS: no.

1380–82 MS: Rate’s exemplar has transposed these three lines before the preceding three.

1383 iplyght. MS: ai plyght.

1400 dey. MS: de.

1409 That Syr Lybeus was not smyte. MS: Ne that Syr Lybeus was smyte.

1414 tho. MS: the.

1455 Now. MS: No.

1487 That he sleyn schuld be. MS: That sleyn schuld be.

1526 when he saw. MS: when saw.

1544 that he herd. MS: that herd.

1545 wold. MS: wold wold.

1556 MS: Initial S is two lines tall.

1563 palsyd. MS: palyd.

1590 duerfe. MS: duefe.

1595 do. MS: de.

1624 lionus. MS: loxus.

1649 borderes. MS: brotheres.

1658 Tho. MS: Thoff.

1695 Syr Lybeus smote. MS: Syr smote.

1697 vynteyl. MS: wynteyn.

1703 grym. MS: gym.

1711 Syr Lybeus seyd, “Be not agravyd. MS: Syr seyd be not gramyd.

1773 Ther nis nether. MS: Ther nether.

1774 That. MS: Tha.

1800 When. MS: Whe.

1808 All the long. MS: All long.

1854 mynstrell. MS: mynstell.

1856 byrnand. MS: byrnand brynand.

1919 had. MS: herd.

1930 fell. MS: sell.

1931 saunfeylle. MS: samfeylle.

1946 grym. MS: gym.

1956 he. MS: they.

1969 lyre. MS: byre.

1990 slo. MS: slon.

1999 knyght. MS: knyht.

2002 MS: This line and line 2005 have been transposed.

2012 quod. MS: g.

2019 togeder. MS: go geder.

2030 when he come. MS: when come.

2075 MS: repeats this line at top of fol. 58r. So feyr also appears in the margin after this line as a catchphrase.

2120 Fro. MS: Fore.

2124 to. MS: two.

2133 aplyght. MS: pyght.

2142 Lamberd. MS: Lambed.

2180 myrthe. MS: mythe.

2202 hyre. MS: hym.

2208 under. MS: und.

2226 Gyngelayn. MS: Gyngelyan.

 
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Lybeus Dysconius
Jhesu Cryst owre savyowre
And his moder, that swete flowre,
    They sped them in ther nede
That lystyns of a conquerour,
Wytty knyght and gode weryour,
    And doughty mane of dede.
Hys name was callyd Gyngeleyn;
Getyn he was of Sir Gawyne
    By a forest syde.
A beter knyght, ne more profetabull,
With Arthor at the Rownd Tabull,
    Herd I never of rede.

Gyngeleyn was feyr and bryght,
Gentyll of face and body ryght,
    Basterd thoff he were.
His moder hym kepte with alle hyr myght
That he schuld se no knyght
    Armyd on no maner,
For he was so savage
And lyghtly wold outrage
    To his felows in fere.
For doute of wyked lose
His moder kepyd hym close,
    As worthy chyld and dere.

For he was so feyr and wyse,
His moder named hym Beuys,
    And non other name.
And hymselve was so nyse
That askyd never, iwys,
    What he hyght of his dame.
Tyll it befell upon a dey,
Gyngeleyn wolde hym to pley,
    To se wyld dere bename.
He fond a knyght wher he ley
In armour that was stoute and gey
    Sleyn and made full tame.

He dyd of that knyghtys wede
And therin he gane hym schred
    In that rych armour.
And when he hade done that dede,
Than to Glastunbery he yede,
    And ther ley Kynge Arthore.
When he was within the halle,
Ymonge lordys and ladys alle,
    He grete them with honour,
And seyd, “Arthor, my lord,
Sofer me to speke a word,
    I pray yow, par amour.

“I ame a chyld uncouthe,
And com nowte of thee soughte;
    I wold be made a knyght.
Ten yere olde I ame,
Of werres wele I cane;
    Grawnte me aryght.”
Then seyd Arthor the kynge,
“Tell me, chyld, withoute lesynge,
    What is thi name iplyght?
For sene that I was borne,
Saw I never here beforne
    No chyld so feyre of syght.”

The chyld seyd, “Be Seynte Jame,
I ne wote what is my name;
    I ame the more nyse.
Bot whyle I was at home,
My moder onne hyr game
    Callyd me Beuys.”
Than seyd Arthour the kyng,
“That is a wonder thing,
    Be God and Seynt Denys,
That thou woldyst be made a knyght
And wotyst not what thou hyght,
    And so feyre and wyse!

“I schall hym gyffe a name
Amonge you all in same,
    For he is so feyr and fre.
Be God and by Seynt Jame,
So callyd never his dame,
    What woman so ever sche be.
Calle hym in your use
‘Lybeus Disconyus’
    For the love of me.
Loke ye calle hym in same,
In ernys and in game,
    For sertys, so hyght schall he.”

Kyng Arthour anon ryght
Lete make the chyld a knyght
    On that ilke dey.
He gafe hym armour bryght;
With a suerd of myght
    He gyrd hym, soth to sey.
He caste on hym in a pylte
A ryche scheld overgylte
    With a gryffyn gay.
He toke hym to Ser Gawyn
To teche hym upon the pleyn
    Of every prinsys pley.

When he was knyght made,
Full sone the kyng a boune he bade,
    And seyd, “My lord so fre,
In herte I were full glad
The fyrst fyght that I had,
    That men do aske thee.”
Then seyd Arthour the kynge,
“I grante thee thine askynge,
    What batell so ever it be.
Bot ever me thinke thee to yyng
To do a gode feyghtyng
    Be ought that I can se.”

Ryght withouten reson,
Doke, erle and baron
    Wesche and went to mete.
Of wyld dere and venyson,
As lordys of grete renowne,
    Ynoughe thei hade to ete.
They hade setyn bot a while,
Bot the space of a myle;
    At the tabull as thei sytte,
Ther came a dwerffe in ryde,
And a damsell by his syde,
    All be-swete for hete.

That meyd hyght Hendy Elyn;
Bryght sche was and schene,
    A lady as messyngere.
Ther was never cowntas ne qwene
That was so sembly on to sene
    Bot sche myght ben hyr pere.
The may that was so schen,
Sche was clothyd in gren
    And furred with blaundyner.
Hyr sadell was overgylte
And wele hernest with sylke;
    Whyte was hyr deyster.

The dwerfe was clothyd in ynde
Befor and all behynde;
    Stowte he was and perte.
Amonge a Crystyne kynd,
Syche one schuld no man fynd,
    He was so stoute in herte.
His sercote was yalow as floure,
And within of an other colour
    Wele furryd aboute with merte.
With gold his schone was dyght,
And cowpyd were as a knyght;
    Ther semyd no poverté.

Wyndeleyn was his name;
Wyde sprong his fame
    Est, west, northe and southe.
Myche he couthe of game,
Sotell, sawtre in same,
    Herpe, fidyll than wele he couthe.
He was a gode gestoure
With ladys in ther bowre,
    A mery man of mouthe.
He seyd to the meyd, “I wene,
To tell the tale bedene
    Tyme it is, for sothe.”

The meyd knelyd in halle
Amonge the lordys alle
    And seyd, “My lord Arthor,
A case ther is now to werd:
Was ther never non so herd,
    Nor of so grete dolour.
My Lady of Synadon
Is brought in gret prison,
    That was of grete valour,
And prays yow of a knyght
That in werre ware wyght
    To wyne hyr with honour.”

Up sterte the yong knyght —
In herte he was full lyght —
    And seyd, “Arthour, my lord,
I schall do that fyght
And wynne that lady bryght,
    Yyff thou be trew of word.”
Quod Arthour, “That is sothe;
Sertys, withouten othe,
    Therto I bere record.
God gyf thee strenth and myght
To wyn that lady bryght
    Thorow dynte of spere and swerd.”

The may began to chyd,
And seyd, “Alas that tyde
    That I was hether sende!
This wyll spryng wyde
And lorne is, kyng, thi pride,
    And all thy lordys is schent
That thou wold send a chyld
That is wytteles and wyld
    To dele mannes dynte,
And hast knyghtys of mayn,
Persyvall and Ser Gawayn,
    Full wyse in tournament.”

The duerfe with grete errour
Sterte to King Arthour
    And seyd, “Thou konyng kyng!
This chyld to be a waryowre
And to do sych a labour
    Is not worth a ferthing.
Or he that lady se,
Batelys two or thre
    He must do, without lesyng.
At the Poynte Perelus
Besyde the Chapell of Antrus,
    Ther schall be his begynyng.”

Syr Lybeus than answerd,
“Yit never was I aferd
    For dred of mannys saw.
Somwhat have I lernyd
To pley with a swerd
    And hath had many a blaw.
A man that fleye for a threte,
Other be wey or be strete,
    I wold he were to-draw.
The batell I undertake,
And never non of them forsake,
    For sych is Arthor law.”

The meyd ansuerd full snelle,
“That besemyth thee ryght wele,
    Who so lokyght on thee.
Thou ne durste, for all the werld,
Abyd the wynd of a suerd,
    Be ought that I cane se.”
Than seyd the duerfe in that stownd,
“The ded men in the grownd
    Of thee aferd may be.
Now I rede thee in game,
Go home and sowke thi dame,
    And ther thou wyne the gré.”

The Kyng seyd anon ryght,
“Here getys thou non other knyght.
    By hym that bought me dere,
If thou thinke not hym wyght,
Get thee another were thou myght
    That is of more power.”
The mey for ire styll sate.
Sche wold nether drinke ne ete,
    For all that ther were.
Sche sate doune, evyll payd,
Tyll the bord was up-brayd,
    Sche and the duerfe in fere.

King Arthour in that stound
Comandyd of the Tabull Round
    Fowre of the best knyghtys,
In armour hole and sound,
The best that may be found,
    To arme the child at ryghtys.
He seyd with the grace of Crist
That in flome was baptyst,
    That he schuld hold his ryghtys
And become a gode champyon
To the Lady of Synadon,
    And sle his foys in fyghtys.

Syr Persyvall and Ser Gaweyn,
To arme hym thei were full feyn,
    In that semly sale.
The thyrd was Syr Eweyn,
The fourth was Syr Geffreyn —
    So telys the French in tale.
They cast onne of sylke
A ryppon whyte as mylke,
    Emong them chosyn saun fayle,
And an hambreke bryght
That full rychely was dyght
    With nayles gret and smale.

Gaweyn, his awne fere,
Honge aboute his swer
    A scheld with a gryffyn.
A helme of rych enter
That was stele and no ire.
    Persyvale sett on crowne.
Gefferen brought with hym a sper
That was gode in every were,
    And a fell fanchon.
Eweyn brought with hym a sted
That was gode at every nede
    And eger as any lyon.

The knyght to hors gan sprynge,
And rode to Arthour the kyng,
    And seyd, “My lord with crowne,
Gyff me thi blyssing;
Withouten any lesing
    My wyll is gode to gone.”
Arthour his hand up-haffe
And his blyssing he hym gafe
    As a king full kynd,
And seyd, “God gyffe thee grace
To hafe spede and spas
    To borow that lady hend.”

The meyd that was so gay
Lepe on hyr palfray;
    The duerfe rode hir besyd.
Tyll upon the third dey,
Sone upon the knyght
    Fast than gan thei chyd,
And seyd, “Loryll, katyff,
If thou were worthy sych fyve,
    Lorn than is thy pride:
This wey kepys a knyght
That with every man wyll fyght;
    Hys name is sprongen wyde.

“He hyght Wylliam Dolebraunche.
His warre may no man staunche;
    He is werryour out of wytte.
Both thorow hert and hanche
Full sone he wyll thee lance,
    All that he may hytte.”
Quod Libeus Disconeus,
“That wey wyll we aventour us.
    If we may hym mete,
For ought that may betyde,
Agens hym wyll I ryde
    To loke if he wyll sytte.”

Thei ryden forthe all thre
On a feyr cause
    Besyde the Chapell of Antrous.
A knyght gan thei se
In armour bryght of ble
    Upon the Poynt Perelus.
He bare a scheld of gren
With thre lyons of gold, I wene,
    Prowde and precyous.
Wele was armyd that knyght,
For soth at all ryght,
    As it was his use.

When he saw Syr Libeus in syght,
He rode to hym full ryght
    And seyd, “Ho, my bew pere!
Whoso ryde here dey or nyght,
With me he must fyght
    Or leve his armour here.”
Quod Libeus Disconeus,
“For the love of Jhesus,
    Late us pas here.
We be fer fro frend
And hath ferre to wend,
    I and this mey in fere.”

Syr Wylliam ansuerd tho,
“Thow schall not scape me so,
    So God gyff me gode reste.
We schall or we go
Feyght betwyx us two
    A forlong here be weste.”
Quod Libeus, “Now I se
It wyll non other be;
    Go forth and do thi beste.
And take thi course with thy schafte,
Yiff thou be man of crafte,
    For myn is here all preste.”

They wold no lenger byde:
Together gan thei ryde
    With full grete rawndon.
And Lybeus in that tyde
Smote Wylliam in the syde
    With a spere so longe.
Bot Willam sate so faste
That his sper all to braste,
    Be God and be Seynt Jhon.
Than he began to stoupe,
And felle over his hors crowpe
    Into the feld adoune.

His stede rane away.
William not long lay,
    Bot stert up anon ryght,
And seyd, “Be my fay,
Never or this dey
    Fonde I non so wyght.
Now my stede is away;
Fyght on fote, I thee pray,
    As thou arte jentyll knyght.”
Quod Libeus Disconeus,
“For the love of suet Jhesus,
    Therto than wyll I lyght.”

Together gan thei spryng;
With suerdys on to dynge
    Thei faught ferly faste.
Dyntis gan thei dynge;
The fyre, without lesyng,
    Oute of ther helmys braste.
Bot William Dolebraunce
To Lybeus gan lance
    Thrught his scheld in haste,
That one cantell fell to ground
And Libeus in that stound
    In herte was agaste.

Syr Libeus all with myght
Defendyd hym anon ryght,
    As waryour wyght and sle.
Barbe and crest doun ryght
He made fle with myght
    On Williamys helme on hyghe.
The poynt than of his suerd
Schefe Williamys berd
    And com the flesch not nyghe.
William smote Libeus so
That his swerd brast in two,
    That many a man it syghe.

Thus William gan cry,
“For the love of Mary,
    On lyve late me pas.
It were gret vylonye
To make knyght for to dyghe
    Wepynles in the place.”
Quod Libeus Disconeus,
“For the love of Jhesus,
    Of lyfe getyst thou no space,
Bot if thou suere to me anone,
Or that thou hens gon,
    Here befor my face.

“Fast thou knele adoune,
And suere on my suerd broun.
    Thow schall to Arthor wend
And sey, ‘Lord of renowne,
As overcomyn person
    A knyght me hether send
That men calys thus:
Syr Libeus Disconeus,
    Unknawyn knyght and hend.’”
William on kne hym sette,
And swore as he hym bede,
    And forth he gan wende.

Thus partyd thei alle;
Home to Arthours halle,
    He toke the ryght wey.
A case ther began to falle:
Thre knyghtys prowd in paule
    He mette that ilke dey.
The thre knyghtys in fere
Were his emys sones dere
    That were stoute and gay.
When thei se Willyam bled,
Thei come to hym with dred
    And made full grete deray.

They seyd, “Eme William,
Who hath do thee thys grame?
    Why bledyst thou so yern?”
He seyd, “Be Seynt Jame,
One that is not to blame,
    A strong knyght and sterne.
Libeus Dysconeus he hyght;
To felle his foys in fyght
    He is not to lerne.
A dwerfe hym rode befor,
His squyer as he were;
    Thei rydyn forth full yerne.

“Bot one thing grevyd me sore:
He made me to suere
    On his suerd bryght
That I schall never more,
Tyll I com to Arthour,
    Stynte dey ne nyght.
To hym I muste me yeld
As overcom in the feld
    Be power of his knyght,
Never agen hym to bere
Nether scheld ne spere.
    Thus I have hym hyght.”

Than seyd the knyghtys thre,
“Thou schall wele avengyd be,
    Serteyn, withouten feyle,
He one agens us thre
Is not worth a fle
    For to hold bateyle.
Go and do thy othe,
And thof the thefe be wrothe,
    We schall hym asayle.
Or he this forest passe,
We schall his hamberke unlace,
    Thof it be doubull nayle.”

Hereof wyst not that wyght,
Libeus, that jentyll knyght;
    He rod forth pace by pace.
He and meyden bryght
Made together that nyght
    Game and grete solace.
And mercy sche gan hym crye,
For sche had spoke hym vylanye,
    And he forgafe her trespas.
The dwerffe was hys squyre,
And servyd fere and nere
    Of all that myster was.

On the morne, when it was dey,
They rode furth on ther wey
    Toward Synadon.
Than thei se in ther wey
Thre knyghtys stowte and gey
    Com ryding fro Skarlyon.
To hym thei cryed anon ryght,
“Turne agene, tratoure, and fyght!
    For thou schall leve thy renowne,
And that meyd bryght
That is so feyre in syght
    We schall lede to the towne.”

Syr Libeus than he cryde,
“I ame redy to ryde
    Agene yow all in same!”
As prince prowd in pride
He prikyd his sted that tyde
    In ernyst and not in game.
The eldyst brother gan bere
To Sir Libeus a spere;
    Syr Banerer was his name.
Syr Libeus rode to hym anone
    And lefte hym ther as lame.

The knyght hym mercy gan crye;
Syr Libeus sykerly
    Held hym fast adone.
The duerfe, mayster Wyndeleyn,
Toke the stede by the reyn
    And lepte in the sadyll aboven.
He rode than with that
To the mey ther sche sate,
    So feyre of facyon.
Than loughe the mey bryght,
And seyd, “This yong knyght
    Is a gode champyon!”

The mydlest brother beheld
His brother in the feld
    And lorn meyn and myght.
He smote, so it is telled,
Syr Lybeus in the scheld
    With a spere anon ryght.
Lybeus awey gan bere
With the poynt of his spere
    The helme of that knyght.
The yong brother gan forth ryde,
And prikyd his stede that tyde
    Egyr as lyon wyght.

He seyd to Syr Libeus anon,
“Syr knyght, be Seynt John,
    Thou arte a fell champyon.
Be God that dyghed on tre,
Just I wyll with thee;
    I trow to bere thee doune.”
As warryour out of wytte
On Libeus gan he hytte
    With a fell fauchon.
So styff his strokys he sette
Throught helme and basnete
    He kerfe Syr Lybeus crone.

Than was Syr Libeus agrevyd
When he felyd on his hede
    The suerd of egyr mode.
His suerd abowte hym he hevyd;
All that he hytte he clevyd
    As werryour unwyse and wode.
Than he seyd so:
“One agayn two
    To fyght it is not gode.”
Fast thei hewyd on hym,
And with strokys grym
    Styfly agens them stode.

Bot through Godys grace
He smote the mydlyst in that place
    Under the ryght arme so
He feld hym in that place.
In that ilke space,
    His ryght arme fell hym fro.
The yongyst saw in syght
That he had nother mayn ne myght
    To fyght agens his fo.
To Lybeus he gan upyeld
His spere and his scheld;
    Mersy he cryed tho.

Lybeus seyd, “Nay,
Thow schall not go so awey,
    Be hym that bought mankynd.
Thou and thi brether twey,
Ye schall plyght me your fey;
    Ye schall to Arthour wend.
So ye schall sey, ‘Lord of renoun,
As overcomen person
    A knyght us hether send
To yeld yow towre and towne,
And be at your renoun
    Ever withouten ende.’

“Bot if ye wyll do so,
Certys I schall you slo
    Long or it be nyght.”
The knyght swore it schuld be so:
They schuld to Arthour go
    Ther trowth to hym thi plyght.
Libeus and that mey
Went on ther jorney
    Thyder as thi were tyght
Tyll on the thyrd dey
They ryden in game and pley,
    He and that byrd bryght.

They ryden ay west
Into a wyld forest
    And myght not com to towne.
They wyst not what was best;
For nede thei must rest,
    And ther he lyght adoune.
In the gren grevys
They byged them with levys,
    With suerd bryght and brown.
Therin thei duellyd all nyght,
He and that byrd bryght
    So fayre of facyon.

And ever the duerfe gan wake
That no thefe schuld take
    Awey ther hors with gyle.
For dred he gan quake:
A grete fyre he saw make
    Fro hym not a myle.
“Rise,” he seyd, “syr knyght,
To hors that we were dyght
    For doute of peryll.
Syrtys I here grete boste,
And I have saver of roste,
    Be God and be Seynt Gyle.”

Syr Lybeus was stowt and gay,
And lepe on his palfrey
    And hent scheld and spere.
As he went forth fast,
Two gyantys he fond at the last
    When he com to the fyre.
The one was blake as pyche,
The other was red and lothlyche;
    Full fowle thei were of chere.
The blake gyant held in his arme
A feyre meyden by the arme
    Bryght as ros onne brere.

The red gyant full yerne
Aboute he gan turne
    A wyld bore on a spyte.
The fyre fast gan bryn;
The meyden cryed full yern
    For som man schuld it wytte.
Sche seyd, “Welywey,
That ever I bode this dey
    With two devyles to sytte!
Helpe now, Mary myld,
For love of thi chyld,
    That I be not foryeytt!”

Quod Libeus, “Be Seynt Jame,
To bryng this mey fro scham
    It were grete prise.”
He toke hys course with his schaft
As man that couth his craft,
    And rode both ryght and wyse.
To fyght with them in same
It was no chyldys game,
    They be so grym and gryse.
The blake gyant he smot smert
Thrught lyver and herte
    That never myght he ryse.

Than flew that meyden schen,
And thankyd Heven Quen
    Sych grace sche had hir sent.
Than cam that meydyn Elyn,
Sche and the duerfe bedene,
    And by the hand hyr hente.
They went than to the grevys
And leyd them in the levys
    With full gode intente.
They than besought Jhesus
To helpe Lybeus Dysconeus
    That he schuld not be schent.

The rede gyant smote ther
To Syr Libeus with a bore,
    As wolfe that were full wode.
His dyntys he sett so sore
That Syr Libeus stede therfore
    Dounne to the ground he yode.
Syr Lybeus than full smerte
Oute of his sadyll sterte
    As sperkyls doth on gled.
Eger as any lyon,
He smote with his suerd broune
    To quite the gyant his mede.

The gyant spyte, sykerlye,
Was more than a coltré,
    That he had on the bore.
He leyd on Libeus faste
While the sper wold last,
    Ever more and more.
The bore was full hote than;
The grece on Lybeus ran,
    And that grevyd hym sore.
The gyant was styff and strong
And fiftene fote he was long;
    He smote fast with the bore.

And ever the gyant smote
To Libeus, wele I wote,
    Tyll hys spyte brake in two.
As man that was unsaught,
A tronchon he up kaught
    To fyght agens his fo.
With the ende of the tre
He smote Libeus scheld in thre;
    Than was Libeus full wo.
Or he his schaft up caught,
Libeus a stroke hym raught
    That his ryght arme fell hym fro.

The gyant fell to grownd,
And Libeus in that stownd
    Smote of his hed full ryght.
In Frenche boke as it is in found,
To that other he went that stound
    And servyd hym so, aplyght.
Than he toke the hedys twey
And bore them to the feyr mey
    That he wan in the fyght.
The mey was glad and blythe,
And thankyd God fele sythe
    That ever he was made knyght.

Quod Libeus, “Jentyll dame,
Tell me what is your name
    And wher that ye wer borne.”
She seyd, “Be Seynt Jame,
My fader is of ryche fame
    And wounes her beforne.
An erle and wyde knaw knyght
That is a man of myght,
    Hys name is Anter.
And my name is Vyolete,
That the gyant hath besette
    That was of so grete power.

“Yesterdey in the evyning,
As I went on my pleyng,
    No evyll than I thought.
The gyant than, without lesyng,
Owte of a buske gane spryng
    And to the fyre me browght.
Of hym I had be schent,
Had not God me socoure sent,
    That all the werld wrought.
He yeld thee thy mede
That on the rode gan blede
    And with hys blode us bought.”

Withouten more talkyng,
To hors gan thei spryng
    And rode forth all in same,
And told the erle tyding,
How he savyd with fyghtyng
    Hys doughter fro wo and schame.
Than were the hedys sente
To Kyng Arthour in presente
    With myche gle and game.
Than in Arthours courte dyd rys
How Syr Libeus was of price
    And of worthy fame.

The erle for hys gode dede
Gafe Lybeus to mede
    Scheld and armour bryght,
And also a nobull stede
That was gode at nede
    In travyll and in fyght.
Syr Libeus and that mey
Rode forthe on ther wey
    Thyder as thei had tyght.
Than thei saw in a perke
A castell styff and sterke
    That grysly was dyght.

Wallyd it was with ston —
Syche saw I never none —
    With tourys styff and stoute.
Quod Libeus “Be Seynt John,
This is a worthi wone
    To hym that hath grete doute.”
Than lewgh that mey bryght
And seyd, “This awys a knyght,
    The best here aboute.
Who so wyll with hym fyght,
Be he baron or knyght,
    He doth hym low to lowte,

“For the love of hys leman
That is so feyr a woman
    And worthely in wede.
Who so bryngys a feyrer one,
A joly faucon whyte as fome
    He schall have to mede.
And sche be not so feyre of syght,
With Gefferon he must fyght.
    Yyff he may not spede,
Hys hede hym schall be rafte
And sette hye on a schafte,
    To se in lenth and in brede.

“The soth thou mayst se wele,
That on ilke a cornelle
    One hede or two aryght.”
Quod Libeus al so snelle,
“Be God and be Seynt Myghell,
    With Gefferon wyll I fyght,
And chalenge that joly faucon,
And sey I have in towne
    A leman twys so bryght.
And yff he wyll hyr se,
For sothe, I wyll bryng thee,
    Be it dey or nyght.”

The dwerfe seyd, “By Jhesus,
Gentyll Libeus Disconeus,
    Thow putys thee in grete perelle.
Gefferon LeFroudeus
In fyghting hath an use
    Knyghtys to begyle.”
Syr Libeus ansuerd ther,
“Therof have I no kare,
    Be God and be Seynt Gyle.
I shal se his face
Or that I passe thys place,
    Fro this cyté a myle.”

Withouten more reson
They bode styll in the towne
    All that nyght in pesse.
On the morne Lybeus was bowne
For to wyn his renowne,
    Sertys, withouten les.
He armyd hym full sure
In that ylke armour
    That Kyng Arthours was.
A sted he began to stryd;
The dwerfe rode hym besyde
    Unto that prowd palace.

Gefferon LeFreudeus
Arose, as it was hys use,
    In the morow tyde
To honoure suet Jhesus.
And Libeus Disconeus
    Com prikyng as prince in pride.
Wythowten more abode
Agens Libeus he rode,
    And loude to hym he cryd
With voys scherpe and skryll:
“Comyst thou for gode or yll?
    Tell me and nought thou hyde.”

Quod Libeus all tytte,
“I have grete delyte
    With thee for to fyght.
Thou seyst a foule dyspite:
No woman is so whyte
    As thyn be dey or nyght.
I have one in the towne
That is ryght feyr of facyon,
    In clotys and sche were dyght.
Therfor the joly faukon
To Arthour kyng with crown
    I schall bryng with ryght.”

Quod Gefferon, that gentyll knyght,
“Were schall we preve aplyght
    Whether feyrer be?”
Quod Libeus, “With all my myght,
In Cardull cyté with ryght,
    That all men may se,
In myddys of the merkete,
Ther thei schall be sette
    To loke on them so fre.
And yiff my leman be brown,
To wyn thi joly faukon
    Just I wyll with thee.”

Quod Jefferon al so snell,
“Hold thi grant I wyll.
    Todey at under-tyde,
Be God and by Seynt Myghell,
Out of this castell
    To Kardell wyll I ryde.”
Ther glovys up thei held
That forwerd to be fullfyllyd,
    As princys prowd in pride.
Syr Lybeus, or he wold lyne,
He rode into his inne
    And wold no lenger byde.

He seyd to meyd Elyn
That bryght was and schen,
    “Loke thou make thee bowne.”
He seyd, “Be Heven Quene,
Gefferonus leman, as I wene,
    Todey schall come to towne
In the mydys of the syté,
That men may yow se
    Both togeder in fassyon.
And yiff thou be not so bryght,
With Gefferon I wyll fyght
    To wynne the joly faucon.”

The dwerfe ansuerd and seyd,
“Thow doyst than a herdy dede.
    For every man that ever was born,
Thow doyst be no mans redde,
Bot thou feyrest in thi chyldhede
    As man that wold be lorn.
Therfor I thee praye
Wend we forth owre wey,
    That we com not hym beforn.”
Libeus seyd, “That were grete schame.
I had lever,” he seyd, “Be Seynt Jame,
    With wyld hors to be torne.”

The meyd feyr and fre
Hyghed hyr sykerly,
    That sche were atyred
For to do his profyte
In kercheffys feyr and whyte
    Areyd with gold wyre.
A vyolet mantyll full gey
Furred with grys, soth to sey,
    Sche cast aboute hyr swyre.
The stonys aboute hyr mowld
Were presyows endentyd with gold,
    The best of all that schyre.

Syr Lybeus sett that mey
Upon a god palfrey;
    They ryden forth all thre.
Every man to other gan sey,
“Here comys a full feyr mey,
    A sembly one to se.”
Into the merketplace he rode
And ther boldly he abode
    In myddys of that syté.
Than thei se Gefferon com ryde
With two squyres be his syde
    And with no mo meyné.

He bore a scheld of grene
That wele was dyght, I wene;
    Of gold was the border,
And of the same colorus
Dyght with other floures
    Was geyer than any trumpour.
Two squyres with hym gan ryde:
The ton bare be hys syde
    Thre schaftys gode and suer.
The other bare, redy bone,
The gentyll joly faucon,
    The two ladys waygewr.

Therafter com ryde
A lady full of pride
    Clothyd in purpull paule.
The pepull was gederyd full wyde
To se bothe bake and syde,
    So gentyll was and smalle.
Hyre mantyll was of reyfyen,
Furred wele with armen
    Riche and ryall,
The bond aboute hyr mold
    Of perles and of gold
With many a rych jewell.

As rose hyr rud was rede;
The here schon on hyr hede
    As gold that were full bryght,
Hyr browys as sylkyn thred
Bent in lenth and brede.
    Sche was full feyre in syght:
Hyr eyn ware gray as glas,
Whyte was hyr face,
    Hyr nose it was ryght,
Hyr swyre was long and small.
Hyr beuty to tell all,
    For soth, no man myght.

Than sche mayde to bryng
Two cheyres into the chepyng,
    Ther beutys to discry.
Than seyd bothe old and yenge,
“For soth, withouten lesynge,
    Betwyx them is partye.
Jefferonus leman is clere,
As bryght as rose on brere,
    For soth, and not to lye.
Elyn the messynger
Were worthy to be a lawnder
    Of hyr noryssery.”

Quod Gefferon LeFreudeus,
“Be the love of Jhesus,
    The faukon hast thou lorn.”
Quod Lybeus Disconeus,
“That was never myn use;
    Juste we wyll therforne.
And thou fell me doune,
Take my hed and thy fawcon
    As covant was beforn.
And yff I bere doune thee,
The fawcon schall go with me,
    Thoff thou be wroth therforn.”

No more tale thei tellyd,
Bot went into the felyd
    With full grete partye.
With strokys styff on scheld,
Ather to other held
    With full grete invye.
Ther sperys broke in sonder,
The strokys faryd as thunder
    That com out of the eyre.
Mynstrellus and trumperus,
Herperus and gesterus,
    Ther strokys gan dyscry.

Than gan Gefferon speke:
“Gyff me one that wyll not breke,
    A god schaft therwithall.
Se this yonge freke
Syttys in hys sadull steke
    As ston in castell walle!
I schall make hym stoupe
Over hys hors croupe
    And gyffe hym an evyll falle,
Thoffe he were wyghter
Than Alysander or Arthour,
    Lanslate or Persyvale.”

The knyghtys both two
Ryden togeder tho
    With full grete rawundon.
Lybeus smote Gefferon so
That hys scheld fell hym fro
    Into the feld anone.
They laught all that ther was
And seyd, withouten les,
    Duke, erle and baron,
That never are thei se
That man that myght dre
    A stroke of Syr Gefferon.

Gefferon rode to hym swythe,
For soth, full felle sythe,
    For he myght not spede.
He rode agens hym as gode;
He leyd at hym as he were wode,
    As man that had grete nede.
Bot Lybeus sate so faste
That Gefferon ther he caste,
    Both hym and hys stede,
So that hys bake he brake
That men myght here the crake
    Both in lenth and brede.

All seyd that ther weren
That Gefferron had lorn
    The gentyll joly faucon;
With Lybeus he was bore.
They wente bothe les and more
    With hym into the towne.
Gefferon and hys scheld
Were bore oute of the feld
    With many a bold baron.
The jentyll faucon sent was
Be a knyght that hyght Lucas
    To Arthour, kyng with croune.

The knyght forth he yede.
With hym than he gan lede
    The faukon that Libeus wan;
To Arthour he hym bare.
Than the kyng he swere,
    “Syr Libeus of wer wele can!
He hath me sent with honour
Of dyverse batels fowre
    Sen that he fyrst begane.
I wylle send tresoure
For to spend with honour,
    As fallys to sych a mane.”

An hundred pownd honeste
Of florens of the beste
    He sente to Cardull toune.
Syr Libeus made a feste
That fourty deys leste
    With lordys of grete renown.
And at the six wekys ende
They toke ther lefe to wende,
    Duke, erle, and barone.
Syr Libeus and that mey
Rode on ther jorney
    Towerd Synadone.

As thei ryden onne the row,
Hornes they herd blaw
    And hundys on grete gale.
The duerfe seyd in a thraw,
“The horne wele I knaw.
    To sey withouten feyle,
Syr Otys it blew so wele,
That servyd my lady some while
    Sembly in hyr sale.
When sche was take with wyle,
He fled for dowte of perylle
    West into the vayle.”

As thei stode talkyng,
Ther com a rache rynning
    Ryght into the wey.
They seyd, withoute lesyng,
Seth thei were fyrst begynyng,
    Saw thei non so gay.
For he was of all colours
That men se on the flowrys
    Betwyx Mydsomour and May.
The meyd seyd full sone,
“I saw never none
    So mekyll to my pay.

“Wold God,” sche seyd, “that he my were.”
Syr Libeus toke the hunde ther
    And gafe hym to meyd Elyn.
Thei ryden forth all sawght
And told how kempys faught
    For byrdys bryght and schene.
They ryden bot a while,
The space of a myle,
    In that forest grene,
They saw a hynd come stryke
And two grewhundys evyn lyke
    The rache that I of mene.

They hovyd under a lynde
To se the course of the hynde,
    Syr Libeus and hys fere.
Than come after the hynde
A knyght clothyd in inde
    Upon a bay deyster.
Hys bugyll gan he blaw
For that his men schuld knaw
    In what sted that they were.
He seyd “Be Seynte Martyne,
That ilke rache was myne
    Not fully gon a yere.

“Gode frend, late the hund go.”
Syr Libeus ansuerd tho,
    “That schall never betyde,
For with my handys two
I toke hym the meyd to
    That stondys here besyde.”
Quod Syr Otys de la Byle,
“Thou puttys thee in perelle,
    Sertys, and thou abyde.”
Syr Libeus seyd, “Be Seynt Gyle,
I gyff not of thi gyle,
    Carle, thoff thou chyde.”

Quod Syr Otys in that while,
“Sertys this wordys ben vyle!
    Carle was I never none:
An erle my fader was welle;
The countas of Carlehyll,
    Sertys, sche was my dame.
Yif I were armyd now
Als redy as thow,
    Fyght we wold in same.
Bot thou that rache leve,
Thou schall pley or eve
    A wounder wyld game.”

Quod Libeus “Do thi beste
In hast yff thou lyste;
    Thys rache with me schall wend.”
They toke the wey weste
Into the wyld foreste
    As the duerfe them kende.
Syr Otys with grete errour
Rode home in that stowre,
    And aftyr hys frendys send,
And told them anon ryght
Of Arthouras halle is a knyght
    Schamefully had hym schend

And his rache refte hym.
They seyd all and some
    That traytour schuld be take.
Thei seyd thei schuld hym hyng
Thoff he were als strong
    As Lanslate the Lake.
They dyght them full wele
In irene and in stele
    As warre schuld awake.
Bothe knyghtys and skuyres
Lepte on ther deystyres
    For ther lordys sake.

Fer uppon a hyll so hye
Syr Libeus thei gon sye
    Ridyng forth hys pase.
To hym gan thei cryghe,
“Traytour, thou schall abyghe
    Todey for thi trespas.”
Libeus stode and beheld
How full was the feld,
    So myche folke ther was.
He seyd to meyd Elyn,
“For this rache, I wene,
    Here comys a sory case.

“I rede that ye withdraw
Under the wode schaw
    Youre hedys for to hyde.
The soth for to seyn,
Thoff I schall be sleyn,
    Them all I schall abyde.”
Into the forest he rode
And boldly ther he abode
    As prince prowd in pride.
With bow and with arow blaste
To hym thei schot full faste
    And made hym wondys wyde.

Syr Libeus stede so rane
He bore doune hors and man;
    For nothyng wold he spare.
All the men seyd than,
“This is the fend Sathan!
    Oure kynd he wyll forfare.”
Whom that Sir Libeus raught,
He slew with his draught
    And slew for ever more.
And thus sone he was besette
As the fysche in the nette
    With grymly gromys there.

Twelve knyghtys all preste
Com oute of the foreste
    In armour clere and bryght.
All that dey had thei reste
And byden in the foreste
    To sle Libeus the knyght.
In armour thei were twelve:
One was Otys hymselve,
    In romans to rede ryght.
They smote to hym at ons;
They thought to breke his bonus
    And sle hym in that tyde.

Ther myght men here ryght
Strokys sadly lyght
    Among them alle in fere.
For sothe, withoute lesyng,
The sperkyllys out gane spryng
    Throught helme and basnet ther.
Syr Libeus slew knyghts thre
And foure awey gan fle,
    Ne durste thei com hym nere.
The lord faught in that stoure
With hys sonnys fowre
    To helpe them in fere.

Syr Libeus leyd on strokys ryve;
He one agens fyve
    Faught as he were wode.
Togyder gan thei dryve
As beys about an hyve;
    Of hym rane the blode.
When Syr Libeus was ney spylt,
Hys suerd brake in the hylte;
    Than was he mad of rede.
The lord a stroke hym sette
Throught helme and basnet,
    That to the flesch it bode.

He swonyd and fell adoune
Over hys hors crowpon
    As man that were amate.
Hys fo men were all bowne
To pare of hys crowne
    Thorow helme, basnet, and plate.
When he sore gane smerte,
He plukyd up hys herte;
    He coveryd upon hys state.
He hent an ax that hong hym ne
He smote the knyght don be the kne
    Thorow habergon and plate.

He styred hym ther as a knyght,
That thre knyghtys doune ryght
    He slew at dyntys thre.
When the lord saw that syght
Of his hors he gan lyght;
    Aweywerd he gan fle.
Syr Libeus no lenger abode;
Faste as he were wode
    After hym rode he.
Under a cheston tre he had hym quellyd,
Had he not to hym ayelde
    At his wyll for to be,

And, be a serteyn entent,
Tresoure, londys, and rente,
    Castellus, halle and boure.
Therto Libeus asente,
In forwerd that he wente
    Unto the Kyng Arthour,
And sey, “Lord of renoune,
As overcome person
    I ame to thyn honour.”
The lord grantyd hys wyll,
Bothe loud and styll,
    And lede hym to hys towre.

The duerfe and meyd Elyn
Went with Libeus, I wene,
    Unto Syr Otys castell.
Sche and the duerfe bedene
Told of Syr Libeus dedys kene:
    Of Libeus how it fell,
And of the prisoners fowre
That he sent to Artour,
    That he wane ryght wele.
The lord was glad and blyth,
And thankyd God a hundred sythe,
    And also Seynt Myghell,

That sych an herdy knyght
Schuld wyne in fyght
    Hys lady feyre and hend.
To kovyr meyn and myght
Fourti deys with the knyght
    Ther than he gon lende,
And helyd hym every wonde
That he was hole and soune
    Be the fourti deys ende.
Than Libeus and that mey
Toke the redy wey
    To Synadon to wend.

The lord withoute lettyng
Went to Arthour the kyng
    And for prisoner hym yeld.
He told unto the kyng
How suche a knyght yeng
    Wan hym in the felde.
Kyng Arthour hade gode game
And hys knyghtys in same
    That herd that tale itold.
And ther they chos hym, profytabull,
A knyght of the Rownd Tabull
    To fyght with spere and scheld.

Now reste we a whyle
Of Syr Otys de la Lyle,
    And tell we forth our tales.
Syr Lybeus rode many a myle
In aventour and peryle
    In Cournewale and in Wales.
It befell in the moneth of Jone
When the levys wex grene
    And floures in sembly sales.
The somerys dey is longe;
Merry than is the song
    Of the nyghtyngales.

That tyme gan Libeus ryde
Be a ryversyde
    And se a feyr syté
With palys prowde in pride
And castels hyghe and wyde
    And gatys grete plenté.
He askyd what it hyght.
The mey seyd anon ryght,
    “I wyll gladly tell thee:
Men calys thys Yl d’Ore;
Here is fyghtyng more
    Than is in many cuntré.

“For a lady of price —
Hyr rudde is reder than the ryse —
    This cuntré is all in doute.
A gyant that hyght Magus —
Hys pere not fownd is —
    He hath her besett abowte.
He is blake as any pyche;
    In all this lond is non so stoute.
The knyght that passyth this bryge
Hys armour he muste doune lyge
    Or to the gyaunte loute.

“He is of thryty fote longe,
For sothe also stronge
    As other knyghtys fyfty.
Syr Lybeus, thinke on thy suete
That thou not with hym mete,
    For he is full grymly.
The here of hys berd gryme
Be like the brystelles of a suyne,
    For soth wytterly.
Hys bonys are full long
And hymselfe full strong,
    And sleys all that com hym by.

“For soth he is as grymly,
As I telle thee vereley
    And also pardye,
As any ox or cow.
For soth as I sey yow,
    An asse or any nete
With carte styffe and gode
Uneth, be the rode,
    Mey hym and hys gere lede.
He is styff and sture;
Ther may no man hys dyntys dore,
    So than are thei grete.”

Quod Libeus, “Meyd hend,
My wey wyll I wynd
    For all his strokys yll.
Yiff God wyll me grace sende,
Or this dey be at the ende
    With fyght I schall hym spylle.
I have sene grete okys
Fall with wynd strokys
    And smale stond full stylle.
I sett not by hym a myte,
    And let God do hys wylle.”

Thei ryden forth all thre
To that feyre syté
    That men callyd Yl d’Or.
Than Magus gan thei se
Upon the bryge of tre,
    Bold as any bore.
Hys scheld was blake as pyche —
Lybeus saw never non syche —
    Fowre mawmentys therin were.
Ther no whyle he stode;
To Lybeus sone he rode.
    He was blake as any bere.

When he saw Libeus with syght
He seyd to hym anon ryght,
    “Tell me, what arte thow?
Turne agen al so tyte
For thine awne profyte,
    Yif thou love thi prow!”
Syr Lybeus seyd iplyght,
“Kyng Arthour made me knyght
    And to hym I made a vowe
That I schuld never turne bake
For thee, thow fend blake;
    Make thee redy now.”

Magus on fote forth yede
And Lybeus rode to hym on stede,
    For soth, than full ryght.
Lordys and ladys
Rode in ther curyculys
    To behold that syght.
They prayd God of his wyll,
Both lowd and styll,
    To save that Crystyn knyght,
And gyff grace that the gyant
That levys of the Termegant
    Thys dey be sleyn in fyght.

Ther schaftys brake in sonder,
Ther strokys faryd as thunder,
    The sperkyllus gan out spryng.
They drew suerdys bothe
As men that were wroth
    And gan togeder dynge.
Every man had wounder tho
That Syr Lybeus was not smyte in two
    At the fyrst begynyng.
Syr Libeus smote Magus tho,
That hys suerd flyye hym fro
    And fro hym it gan swyng.

Syr Magus dyde quyte hym tho,
And smote Lybeus stede so
    That he sched hys breyn.
Syr Libeus nothing he seyd,
Bot up he sterte in a brayd
    Ryght full sone agene.
An ax he hente full sone
That hang by hys croupon
    And smote hym with meyn,
That a pese of hys scheld
Fell doune in the feld
    And fell doune on the pleyn.

Togyder onne fote thei gan fyght
That no man dyskryve myght
    The strokys betwyx them two,
For thei were unsaught.
Depe wondys thei raught
    Ayther other to slo.
Fro the owre of prime
Unto the evynsong tyme
    In fyght were thei tho.
Syr Lybeus a-thurstyd sore,
And seyd, “Magus, thi ore!
    To drynke thou late me go.

“And I schall grante thee
What boune so thou aske me,
    Syche grace may betyde.
Grete schame it were thee to
A knyght for thyrst to slo,
    And full lytell profyte.”
Magus grantyd hys wyll
For to drinke hys fyll
    Withouten more delyte.
As Lybeus ley on the banke
And thrught hys helme he dranke,
    Magus gan hym smyte.

Into the ryver he fell,
Hys armour every dele
    Wette and evyll dyght.
Up he stert full snell
And seyd, “Be Seynt Myghell,
    Now ame I to thee lyght!
Wenyst thou, fendys fere,
Uncrystend that I were?
    To thee my trought I plyght:
I schall for thi baptyse
Wele quyte thee thy servys,
    Throught helpe of God almyght.”

Than a new fyght began
And ayther to other rane
    And gafe ther dyntys strong.
Many a gentyll man
And ladys whyte as swane
    For Lybeus ther hondys wrong,
For Magus in the feld
Cleft Syr Libeus scheld
    Throught dynte of armys strong.
Than Lybeus rane awey
Ther Magus scheld ley
    And up he gan it fong.

And Libeus rane to hym agene
And smote hym with meyne;
    Ayther other gan aseyle.
To the dey was dyme,
Besyde the water bryme
    The knyghtys held bateyle.
Syr Libeus was weryour wyght
And gane strokys of myght
    Throught plate and male
And throw his schulder bone,
That hys ryght arme anon
    Fell in the feld withouten feyle.

Tho gyant gan to se
That he sleyn schuld be;
    He stode to fense ageyne.
And at the secund stroke,
Syr Lybeus to hym smote
    And brake hys arme in tweyn.
The gyant ther he levyd,
Lybeus smot of hys hede;
    Therof he was full feyn.
He bore the hed into the toune;
With a feyr prosessyon
    The folke come hym agene.

That lady was whyte as flowre
That men callyd Denamowre,
    Reseyved hym full sone
And thankyd hym with honour
That he was hyr socoure
    Agene the gyant so fell.
To a chambyr sche gan hym lede
And changyd ther all his wede;
    In paule sche clothyd hym welle.
Sche proferd hym at a word
Ever more to be hyr lord
    Of cyté and of castell.

Lybeus grantyd hyr in haste
And love to hyr he caste.
For ever at the last
    Sche dyd hym traye and tene:
Fully thre wekys and more
Sche made hym to duell thore
    And also meyden Elyn,
That he ne myght oute breke
For to helpe ne wreke
    The lady of Synadowne.

For that feyre lady
Couth more of sorsery
    Than other sych fyfe.
Of many a dyverse melody
Sche mad hym mynstralsy
    That myght no man dyscry.
For when he saw hyr face
Hym thought that he was
    In paradys onne lyfe.
Wyth fantasy and feyrye
Sche bleryd hys eye,
    That evyll mote sche prove.

Tyll it befell onne a dey
He mette Elyn the mey
    By a castell towre.
To hym sche gan sey,
“Knyght, take hede to thi ley
    Agens Kyng Arthor!
For the love of a woman
That mych of sorsery can,
    Thow doyst thee dyshonour.
That Lady of Synadon
May long lyghe in prison;
    That is full grete dolour!”

When that he herd hyr speke
Hym thought hys herte wold breke
    For that gentyll dame.
He toke with hym hys stede,
Hys armour and hys other wede,
    And rode forth in same.
The ladys stewerd hend
He made with hym to wend;
    Syr Gesloke was hys name.
They roden forth talkyng,
And so thei dyde syngyng,
    And lewgh and made gret game.

Syr Lybeus and that mey
Rode over ther jorney
    On stedys bey and browne.
Tyll the thyrd dey
They se a cyté gey.
    Men callyd it Syndoune,
With castellus hyghe and wyde
And palsyd prowde in pride,
    And werke of feyr facyon.
Syr Lybeus askyd that mey
Whos was that castell gey
    That stode ther in that towne.

And sche hym telyd anon;
“Syr,” sche seyd, “by Seynt John,
    It is my ladys fre.
In yon feyre castell
Wounys a gyaunt felle,
    For sothe wytterly.
Hys name is callyd Lamberte,
Of all this lond stewerte,
    Sertys as I tell thee.
And whoso comys into that gate
To aske herborow therate
    Just with hym wyll he.”

Quod Lybeus, “Be my lewté,
That wold I blythly se
    For ought that may betyde.
Thof he be never so stoute,
Forsoth I schall make hym to lowte,
    So schall I to hym ryde.
Therfor meyden Elyn,
Ye and the duerfe bedene
    In the towne ye mey me byd.”
Forth than the meyd rode;
The duerfe not abode,
    He rode nyghe be hyr syde.

Syr Lybeus seyd to Geslake tyte,
“To me it were grete dyspyte
    To lett for any man of lyve
To do Kyng Arthour profyte.
And to wyn that lady bryght
    Thether wyll I dryve.
Syr Gesloke, make thee yare
Wyth me for to fare
    Hastely and belyve.”
They ryden forthe all hate
To the castell gate
    With feyr schaftys fyve,

And askyd ther hostell
At the feyr castell
    For two of Arthorus knyghtys.
The porter feyre and welle
Lete them into the castelle
    And askyd them anon ryghtus
Who was ther governour.
And thei seyd, “Kyng Arthour,
    Man of most myghtys,
Kyng of all curtasy,
Flowre of all chevalry,
    Hys fo men to fell in fyght.”

Than the porter profytabull
Unto hys lord constabull
    This tale sone he tolde.
He seyd, “Withowtyn fabulle,
Ther be of the Round Tabulle
    Two knyghtys fers and bold.
The one is armyd sure
In full rych armour
    With thre lionus of gold.”
The lord was glad and blyth
And seyd al so swyth
    With hym juste he wold.

The porter went agen ryght
And seyd to the gentyll knyght,
    “For nothyng that thow lete,
Loke your scheldys be strong
And youre sperys long,
    Or your deth ye gete,

“And rydys into the feld;
My lord with spere and scheld
    With yow he wyll pley.”
Syr Lybeus spake wordys bold:
“Thys be wordys wele told
    And lykyng to my pey.”
Into the feld thei ryden
And ther boldly abyde —
    Went thei not awey.
Lanbert sent after hys stede,
Hys scheld and hys other wede;
    Hys atyre was full gey.

A scheld he bere full fyne:
Thre borys hedys were dynt therin
    Blake as brond brend,
The borderes were of ermyn.
Saw he never so queynte a gyne
    In lond werein he wente.
Than two sqyres went be his syde;
Thre shafftys thei bore that tyde
    To dele doughty dynt.
He was wonder gay
And also large of pay
    In werre and in tournament.

Tho that stoute stewerd
That hyght Syr Lambert
    Was armyd at all ryghtys.
He rode into the feld werd
Prowde as any lyberd
    To abyde the knyghtys.
He sey Lybeus that tyde
And fast to hym gan ryde
    When he hym se in syght.
He than to hym bare
A scheld that was square,
    As man of mych myght.

Ayther smote other in the scheld,
That the pesys flow in the feld
    With ther strokys bedene.
Every man to other told,
Bothe yong and old,
    “Thys yong knyght is kene.”
Lambert hys course rode
And gryned as he were wode
    For ire and full of tene.
He seyd, “Bryng me a schafte,
And if he cane hys crafte
    Sone it schall be sene.”

Than toke thei schaftys rownd
With hedys scherpe wele grounde
    And rode with grete rawndon.
They prikyd in that stounde
To dele depe wond,
    Eger as any lyon.
Syr Lybeus smote Lambert so
That his scheld fell hym fro
    Into the feld adoune.
So herd onne hym he hytte
That he myght not sytte;
    Of hys hors he was bowne.

Hys scheld he smote so herd;
Syr Lybeus smote Lamberte
    On hys helme so bryght.
Peyzen, vynteyl, and gourger
Flew with the helme in fere
    And Lambert flew upryght.

Syr Lambert thought to juste better;
A new helme ther was fette
Ayther onne other sette
    Strokys grym and grete.
Than the constapull Syr Lambert
Fell over hys hors bakewerd
    Withowtyn any lete.
Syr Lambert suere full sone,
“By hym that made son and mone,
    He schall my lady gete!”

Syr Lambert was aschamyd.
Syr Lybeus seyd, “Be not agravyd.”
    And he ansuerd, “Ney,
For sen that tyme that I was born
Saw I never knyght me beforn
    So strong be this dey.
Be thoght that I was inne,
Yyff thou were of Gaweyns kynne,
    That is so stoute and gey.”

“Arte thou he,” seyd Lybeus tho,
“That hath don so mykyll wo
    To the quen of Synadon?
Tell thou me or we hens gon,
Or I suere be Seynt Jhon
    That I schall pare thy croune.”
The stewerd ansuerd and seyd,
“Syr, be not yll apayd,
    For sche is my lady.
Sche is quen of all this lond
And I hyr stewerd, I understond,
    For soth wytterly.”

Syr Lybeus ansuerd tho,
“I wold feyne wyte who
    Hath brought hyr in dolour?”
Syr Lambert seyd tho,
“They ben clerkys two
    That do that dyshonour.”
Anon meyd Helyn
Was sent after with knyghtys kene
    Befor Syr Lamberte.
Sche and the duerff, I wene,
Told the dedys bedene
    That thei had thyderwerd.

And told how Syr Lybeus
Faught with many schrewus
    And hym grevyd nothyng.
Than were thei all blythe
And thankyd God fele sythe,
    Jhesus hevyn kyng.

Anon with myld chere
They were sett to sopere
    With myche gle and game.
Lybeus and Lambert in fere
Of aventurys that were
    They told both in same.
Syr Libeus seyd, withoutyn fabull,
To Sir Lambert the constabull,
    “What is the knyghtys name?”

“Syr,” he seyd, “be Seynt John,
Knyght ther is none
    That durst hyr awey lede.
Two clerkys ben ther fone,
Fals of blode and bone,
    That hath don that dede.
They ben men of mastrye,
Klerkys of nygromansye,
    Sertys ryght to rede.
Irain is the o broder,
Mabon is the oder;
    For theym we bene in dred.

“Irain and Mabon
Made a hous of ston
    A place queynt of gyne.
Ther nis nether erle ne baron
That beryght herte as a lyon
    That ons durste cum therinne.

“Therin is a prisone,
And the lady of Synadowne
    Ther within is dyght.
Oft we here hyr crye,
Bot to se hyr with eye
    Therto have we no syght.
Thys Mabon and Irain
Hath swore ther othys sertan
    To deth thei wyll hyr dyght,
Bot sche grante theym tyll
To do all ther wyll
    And gyff them all hyr ryght.

“Of al this kyngdom feyre
Than is my lady eyre
    To weld all with wyne.”
Quod Lybeus Dysconeus,
“For the love of Jhesus,
    That lady wyll I wynne!”

Ther was no more tale
In the castell of gret ne smale,
    Bot suppyd than bylyve.
Baronus and burges fele in fay
Com to that sembly say
    For to lysten and lyth
When that the prowde stewerd
That men call Syr Lamberd
    With Libeus hys case gan kythe.
They fonde them at soper
And made them nobull cher
    Knyghtys both stute and stythe.

Ther than gan thei duell
In that ilke castell
    All the long nyght.
On the morow Libeus was preste
In armour of the beste;
    Full fresch he was to feyght.
Syr Lambert lede in the gate
Ryght unto the castell gate
    That stode uppe full ryght.
Ferthyr durst he hym not bryng,
For soth withouten lesyng,
    Baron, burges ne knyght.

And turnyd hym agene
Syr Gesloke, Lybeus sueyne,
    With hym feyn wold have ryde.
Syr Libeus swer in serteyn
He wold se Syr Geslokys breyn
    Yyf he wold ther abyde.
On to the castell agen he rode
And with Syr Lambert abode.
    To Jhesu fast thei cryed
That he schuld send them tydingys glad
Of hym that long had
    Thyder sought full wyde.

Syr Lybeus, knyght curtays,
Rode into the pales
    And at the haule he lyght.
Trumpys, pypus, and schalmes
He herd befor the dese
    And se theym with syght.
In mydys of the haule flore
He saw a fyre sterke and store
    Was tend and byrned full bryght.
And ferther in he yede
And toke with hym hys stede
    That was full gode in feyght.

Lybeus forth gan passe
Forth into the plas
    Ther the fyre was in haule.
Nether of more ne les
He ne saw in the face
    Bot mynstrellus clothyd in paulle.
With fydell and with sautré
And ilke maner of mynstralsé
    Grete gle made thei all.
Herpe, pype, and rote,
Orgeynus mery of note,
    Was within the walle.

Befor iche mynstrell gode
A torch brynand ther stode
    Was tend and byrnand bryght.
Syr Libeus in he yode
To wytt with egyr mode
    Who schuld with hym fyght.
He wente abowte in the halle
To behold the pyllers alle
    That were so feyre of syght;
Of jasper and fyne crystall
Were thei wrought all,
    That were of mych myght.

The dorys thei were of bras,
The wyndew were of glas
    Wroght with ymegerry.
The haule so peyntyd was
That never non feyrer was
    That he hade sene with yghe.
He sette hym onne the deyze;
The mynstrallys were in peys,
    That were so sturdy.
The torchys that were bryght
They wente oute anon ryght;
    The mynstrellus were awey.

The dorys and the wyndos all
They hytt into the haule
    As it were dynte of thonder.
The stones in the walle
On hym gan thei falle;
    Therof he hade grete wonder.
The erthe began to quake,
The deyze began to schake
    As he sate ther under.
The haule roffe also
Hym thought wold cleve in two
    As it schuld in sonder.

As he sate thus and seyd
He thought he was betrayd,
    Stedys herd he nye.
Than was he better payd,
And to hymselve he seyd,
    “Yet I hope to pley.”
As he lokyd into the feld,
He saw with schaftys and scheld
    Men of armys twey
In full gode armour
Was legud with trapor
    With gylden garlond gay.

The one rod into the halle
And loude he gan to calle:
    “Syr knyght aventorys,
Syche a case ther is befalle
Thof thou be prowd in paule
    Fyght thou must with us.
I hold thee quente of gyne
Yif thou that lady wyne
    That is so presyos.”
Quod Lybeus anon ryght,
“Redy I ame to fyght,
    Be the leve of Jhesus.”

Syr Libeus with a gode herte
Into the sadyll he sterte;
    A spere in hond he hente
And smertly rode hym tylle
Hys fo men for to kylle.
    He had grete talente;
When thei togedyr smyte
On ther scheldys thei hytte
    With sperys and doughty dynte.
Mabonus schaft braste;
Than was he sore agaste
    And held hym schamly schent.

With hys spere felon
Lybeus bare hym downe
    Over hys hors tayll.
That hors he bore to grownd
And Mabon fell that stound
    Into the feld saunfeylle.
Nygh hand he hade hym sleyn,
Bot than came Irain
    With helme, hamberke, and male.
Full fresche he was to fyght;
Syr Libeus anon ryght
    Thought hym to aseyle.

Syr Lybeus was of hym were,
And hys spere he to hym bere
    And left hys brother stylle.
Syche dyntys he gaffe ther
That Iramus hambreke he tere
    And than he lykyd yll.
Ther suerdys drew thei tho
And brake ther suerdys in two
    With hertys grym and grylle.
Togyder gan thei fyght;
Ather preved ther myght
    Other for to spyll.

As thei togyther gan hew,
Mabon, the more schrew,
    Than full sone he ros.
He herd and welle knew
That Irain gaff dyntys few;
    Therfor hys herte aros.
To hym he went full ryght
To helpe and to fell in fyght
    Syr Lybeus of nobull los.
Lybeus faught with them bothe
    And kepyd them in clos.

When Irain saw Mabon
He smot a stroke felon
    To Syr Lybeus with ire,
That evyn he cleft down
With hys suerd broune
    Syr Lybeus stedys swyr.
Lybeus was waryer slye,
And smote atwo hys thye
    And kerfe bothe bone and lyre.
Ther helpyd hym not hys armour,
Acaton nother his charmour;
    So he quitte hym his hyre.

Libeus of his hors was lyght
With Mabon for to fyght
    In feld bothe in fere.
Sych strokys thei dyght
That the fyre sprong out ryght
    Of scheld and helme clere.
As thei togyder streke,
Ther suerdys together mette
    As ye may lysten and lere.

Mabon smote to Lybeus full swythe
And brake Lybeus suerd that was stythe.
    O love was ther no word!
He rane to Mabon ryght;
Full faste gan thei fyght,
    As gestours tellys at bord.

And ever faught Mabon
As it were a lyon
    Syr Lybeus for to slo.
Bot Lybeus kerve adone
Hys scheld with hys swerd browne
    That he toke hys brother fro.
In ryght tale as it is tolde,
The ryght arme with the schelde
    He bare awey also.
Than seyd Mabon hym tyll,
“Thy strokys beyn full yll!
    Gentyll knyght, now qwho!

“I wyll me yeld to thee,
With body and castellus fre
    Schall be at thi wyll.
And that lady fre
That is in my posté
    Take I wyll thee tyll.
For throught thi suerd dynte
Myn one hand have I tynte
    That well nyghe wyll me spylle.
Therfor, thou save my lyve,
And ever withouten stryffe
    At thi wyll I schall be.”

“Nay,” quod Lybeus, “be my thryft,
I wyll not of thi gyfte
    For all this werld to wyne.
Turne thee, thefe, and fyght,
For I schall as I hyght
    Hew thy hede of thi chyn.”
Than Mabon and Syr Lybeus
Full fast togeder hewus;
    They let not for no synne.
Syr Libeus was more of myght,
And clefft his hed doune ryght
    And smot it of by the chyn.

Than Mabon was sleyn,
He ran towerd Irain
    With his swerd in syght
For to se hys breyn.
I tell yow for syrteyn,
    For to fyght more hym lyst.
And when he come ther
Awey he was bore
    To some place that he ne wyst.
Than he swet for the nons
Both in flesch and in bonus;
    In trewth full wele he tryst.

And when he myght not fynd Irain,
He yede agene serteyn
    And he syghed full sore.
And seyd in dede and thought,
“It wyll be dere bought
    That he is fro me fare,
For he wyll with sorsery
Do me grete turmentry
    And that is my moste care.”
He satte full styll and thought
What he best do mought;
    Of blys he was full bare.

As he satte thus in the haule
Oute of the ston walle
    A wyndew feyre unfold.
Grete wonder withall
In hys hert gan falle,
    And sate and gan behold.
A worme ther out gan pas
With a womans face
    Yong and nothing olde.
Hyr body and hyr wyngys
Schon all thingys
    As it were gleterring gold.

Hyr tayll was unmete,
Hyr palmys grym and grete,
    As ye mey lysten and lere.
Syr Lybeus suette for hete
As he sate in hys sete,
    As he had be in fyre.
So sore he was agast,
Hym thought hys herte brast
    As sche neyghed hym nere.
And or Syr Lybeus wyst,
The worme with mough hym kyst
    And hang aboute hys swyre.

And after that kyssyng
Both the tayll and wyng
    Sone thei felle hyr fro.
So feyr in all thing
Woman, withoute lesyng,
    Saw he never tho.1
Bot sche was all nakyd
As the clerkys hyr makyd;
    Therfor Lybeus was wo.
Sche seyd, “Knyght gentyll,
God yeld thee thy wyll;
    My fo men thou wold slo.

“Thow hast sleyn, for sothe,
The clerkys that well couthe
    Of sorcery be the fend.
Est, west, north and soughthe,
With maystery of ther mouthe
    Many men thei schend.
Throught ther conjurment
To a worme thei had me schent,
    Ever in wo to wende
Tyll I had kyssed Gaweyn
That is full doughty, serteyn,
    Or some of hys kyne.

“For that thow hast savyd my lyfe,
Castellus fyfty and fyve
    Take I wyll thee tylle,
And myselve to wyfe,
Styll withoutyn stryffe,
    Yiff that it be your wyll.”
Lybeus was glad and blythe,
And lepe onne hys sted suythe
    And left that lady styll,
And seyd he dred Irain,
That he had hym not sleyn;
    With spyte he thought hym to spyll.

Syr Lybeus, the knyght gode,
Into the castell yode
    To seke after Irain.
He lokyd into the chambour
Ther he was in towre,
    And ther sone he hym wane.
He went into the towre
And in that ilke chambour
    He saw Irain that man.
He drew hys suerd with myght
And smote of hys hede with ryght,
    For soth, of Irain than.

Fro the castell than he rode.
Ther all the folke hym abode;
    To Jhesu gan thei crye.
Lybeus to Lambert tolde
And to other knyghtys bold
    Hys tale full pretely:
How Mabon was slayn,
And woundyd was Irain
    Throught myght of God and of Mary,
And that lady bryght
To a dragon was dyght
    Throught myght of sorcery.

And with a kys of a knyght
A woman sche was aplyght,
    A comly creature.
“Bot sche me stode before,
Nakyd as sche was bore,
    And seyd, ‘now ame I sure

“‘My fo men thou hast sleyn,
Bothe Mabon and Irain;
    Therfor joy God thee send.’”
When Lybeus in that forwerd
Had told to Syr Lamberd
    Both word and ende,

A robe of purpure pryce
Furred wele with gryce
    He send hyr to begynyng.
Kercheffys and garlondys ryche
He sent hyr privylyche;
    A meyden gan them bryng.
And sche was redy dyght,
Sche went with men of myght
    To hyr awne duellynge.
Than all the folke of Synadon
With a feyr processyone
    That lady gane home bryng.

When sche was com to town
Of gold and presyous stones a crown
    On hyr hed was sette.
They were glad and blythe,
And thankyd God felle sythe
    That hyr balys were bette.

Than all the knyghtys doughty
Send umage to that lady
    As it was law in londus.
Sevyn deys thi made ther sogour
With Syr Lambert in the towre;
    All men bowyd to hyr hondys.

And when thei had thus don
They toke leve and went son,
    All the folke in same.
Than went thei with honour
Unto Kyng Arthour
    With myche gle and game.
They thankyd God of his myghtys,
Kyng Arthour and hys knyghtys,
    That sche had no schame.
Arthour gave belyve
Syr Lybeus that mey to wyve,
    That was so jentyll a dame.

The myrthe of that brydall
May no man tell with tale,
    Ne sey in no geste.
In that sembly sale
Wher brydys grete and smale
    And ladys full honeste.
Ther was many a man,
And servys gode wone
    Both to most and leste,
For soth the mynstrallus all
That were in that halle,
    And gyftys of the beste.

Syr Lybeus moder so fre
Come to that mangeré;
    Hyr rudd was rede as ryse.
Sche knew Lybeus wele be syght,
And wyst wele anon ryght
    That he was of mych pryse.

Sche went to Syr Gawen
And seyd, “Withouten leyn,
    Thys is owre chyld so fre.”
Than was he glad and blyth
And kyssed hyre many a sythe,
    And seyd, “That lykes me.”
Syr Gawen, knyght of renown,
Seyd to the Lady of Synadon,
    “Madame, treuly,
He that hath thee wedyd with pride,
I gate hym under a forest syde
    Of a gentyll lady.”
Than that lady was blyth
And thankyd hym many a syth,
    And kyssed hym sykerly.
Than Lybeus to hym wan,
And ther he kyssed that man,
    Forsoth, treuly.

He fell on kneys in that stond —
Lybeus knelyd on the ground —
    And seyd, “For God all welding,
That made the werld rownd,
Feyr fader, wele be ye fownd!
    Blysse me with your blyssyng.”

That hend knyght Gawen
Blyssed hys son with mayn
    And made hym up to stond.
And comandyd knyght and sweyn
To calle hym Gyngelayn
    That was lorde of lond.

Forty deys ther they duellyd
And grete fest thei held
    With Arthour the kynge.
As the gest hath told,
Arthour with knyghtys bold
    Home gan hym bryng.
Ten yere thei lyved in same
With mekyll gle and game,
    He and that suete thyng.
Jhesu Cryst, owre Savyour,
And his moder, that suete floure,
    To heven blys us bryng.

Here endys the lyfe,
I tell yow, withouten stryfe,
    Of gentyll Libeus Disconeus.
For his saule now byd ye
A Pater Noster and an Avé,
    For the love of Jhesus,
That he of hys sawle have pyté,
And of owrys, if hys wyll be,
    When we schall wend therto.
And ye that have herd this talkyng,
Ye schall have the blyssing
    Of Jhesu Cryst allso.
AMEN QUOD RATE
(see note)
(t-note)

[May] they help
Those who will listen
Intelligent; warrior

(see note)
Begotten; (see note)

worthy

I never heard spoken of



although; (see note)
(see note)



would do harm
company
fear; reputation



(see note)
(see note); (t-note)

naive (innocent, simple)
indeed
was named


wild animals captured; (see note)


harmless; (see note)

took off; clothes (armor)
dress; (see note); (t-note)


went; (see note)
lived

Among



for love

unknown (uncivilized)
by request


fighting; am I capable
now

lying
truly
since

to look upon

James
know
foolish (innocent)

in her sport


(t-note)


know; are named



all together


(t-note)


(see note)


earnest and in jest




same



in a stroke (see note)
gilt


field
Of all princely sports


favor he asked; (see note)


(t-note)




too young
engage in a good combat
By anything

i.e., Without further discussion
Duke




sat
i.e., time taken to ride a mile

riding in

covered in sweat

maiden was called Courteous Elaine
beautiful

countess nor
beautiful to look upon
equal
maiden

white fur

equipped
horse

blue cloth

Princely/Fierce; bold; (see note)
people


overcoat

marten
shoes were made
slashed



Widely known

knew of entertainment
Citole [and] psaltery (stringed instruments) together
could [play]
storyteller (jester)
rooms

believe
immediately





take up
difficult
sadness
(see note)



is brave
rescue (win)

jumped





(t-note)

bear witness
strength

blow

maiden; complain; (see note)
time
sent here
[news] will spread widely
lost
disgraced

stupid
deal a man’s blow (i.e., do man’s work)
strength
(see note)


fury
Leapt (approached)
wise


farthing (fourth of a penny)
Before

lying
Perilous Bridge; (see note); (t-note)




afraid
words


blow
flies (flees) from
i.e., anywhere
torn into pieces


Arthur’s

quickly (fiercely)
befits
looks
dare
wind [made] by a sword

place (time)



suckle
prize


(t-note)

brave
where you can; (t-note)

maiden sat silently in anger


ill pleased
table was taken up (see note)
together






immediately

river



slay his foes


eager
handsome hall
(see note)
(see note)

put on [him]
ribbon (ornament)
without a doubt; (t-note)
coat of mail (hauberk)
made
studs

companion; (see note)
neck

ornamentation
not of iron
placed


keen curved sword


fierce; (t-note)

(t-note)



Without argument (delay); (t-note)
eager to go; (t-note)
raised



fortune and time; (t-note)
rescue; courteous; (t-note)


horse

For three days
(see note)

Fool, wretch
Even if; five times more worthy
Lost would be


widely known


fighting; withstand
out of his senses (enraged)
haunch



risk ourselves

regardless of what may happen; (t-note)

see if he will stay seated on his horse

(t-note)
causeway (bridge)


appearance
(t-note)

believe





(t-note)

Halt, my pretty friend; (t-note)








together

then
escape from me so [easily]

before we depart

furlong to the west




skill
ready

delay

speed (violence)
moment


sat so firmly [in his saddle]
shattered

fall
hindquarters
down



rose
faith

brave (strong)





dismount

rush
strike; (see note)
wonderfully vigorously; (t-note)
Blows
sparks
burst



[So] that; corner (slice)
moment




knight strong and skillful
Chin strap and plume down immediately
He cut off mightily
From

Shaved


broke; (t-note)
[So] that; saw; (see note); (t-note)



Let me escape alive
disgrace

this place




Before you leave here



shining
go; (see note)

overcome (vanquished)



noble

commanded


(t-note)


An event began to unfold
fine cloth
same
together
uncle’s sons (cousins)



outcry

Uncle
injury
fast


valiant
(t-note)

needs no teaching


fast; (t-note)






Stop
surrender

By


promised





flea
fight

although; angry
attack
Before; leaves
coat of mail cut through
double riveted

knew; man

step by step (comfortably)


entertainment; (see note)
ask

offense


necessary





(see note)



lose
(t-note)





together

moment




(see note)



surely






appearance
laughed





[who had] lost strength




(t-note)


spurred
brave



fierce

Joust
hope
out of mind (enraged)

keen sword


cut into; head


felt
fierce courage
struck

enraged and insane



struck

[He] stoutly faced them




felled





surrender

then




two
pledge your honor




surrender to you
in your power


Unless
slay; (t-note)
before



(t-note)

bound


maiden (bird)

continually


knew

leapt down
groves
built shelter for themselves
shining

maiden
appearance

kept watch






preprared
fear
outcry
scent of a roast (i.e., meat)




seized

(see note)


loathsome
demeanor


rose on the briar

quickly; (t-note)



loudly
take notice

lived



forgotten (abandoned)



victory

knew

together
children’s
fearsome




beautiful


(t-note)
together (immediately)
took
groves


beseeched

killed


[i.e., the spit and roast boar]
wild
blows

went

jumped
As sparks leap from a fire

shining
pay; reward

(t-note)
ploughshare

laid on (attacked)



grease


tall; (t-note)



know
(t-note)
hostile
took up




Before; (t-note)
gave



moment
off
(see note)
place
served him in the same way, truly
two



many times







dwells
widely known

(see note)
(see note)
trapped



playing


thicket

disgraced (killed)
help
[God] who made all the world
[May] He give you your reward
cross




together
report





rise (spread)
noble reputation



Gave; as reward; (see note)






been directed
park
strong
dreadfully; built





dwelling

laughed
possesses



bow down (fall); (t-note)

sweetheart

worthy in dress

falcon; foam; (see note)
as reward

(see note)
If; succeed
taken

To see in length and breadth; (t-note)


each spear

quickly (fiercely)
Michael








(t-note)



skill
outsmart; (see note)



(t-note)
Before


discussion
dwelled
peace
ready





bestride

(t-note)



morning time


spurring
delay


shrill



quickly
(t-note)

insult
[That]; fair


appearance
If she were dressed [well] in rags
falcon

(t-note)


Where; truly
Which [she] is fairer

(see note)
[So]
middle of the marketplace


i.e., less beautiful
(t-note)
Joust

quickly (fiercely)

in the morning time




promise

before he would cease





ready

believe

middle

appearance





do

You act on no one’s advice
But you act in your childishness
lost (destroyed)


[So] that

rather



Hastened
[So]; attired
him honor

thread

gray fur
neck
head

shire (land)


good palfrey (horse)

began to say to each other; (t-note)

beautiful (seemly)

waited



no more of a retinue


made; I believe
(t-note)


Trumpeter

The [first] one carried by
sure
readily prepared

wager



fine cloth


So noble and slender [she] was
striped cloth
ermine

band; head
[Was made]


complexion
(t-note)

[were as] silken
Curved

eyes

straight
neck; slender

(t-note)


marketplace
beauties to examine


Between them there is a great difference; (see note)




washerwoman
By her upbringing



lost



If

the agreement






combat

Each to the other struck
hostility
asunder

air
trumpeters
storytellers
did proclaim




Look at; warrior
fixed; (t-note)

fall
hindquarters

stronger





violence



laughed


That they had never seen before
survive


immediately
many times
succeed
as well; (t-note)


sat so firmly
overthrew






lost

carried






was named; (see note)


(t-note)

won


is skilled in war
sent me [tribute] with honor; (see note); (t-note)

Since




excellent (fine); (t-note)
florins (coins)

feast
lasted


(t-note)

(t-note)





hounds; cry (barking)
instant




Capably; hall
guile

valley


hunting dog; (see note)


Since






much to my liking

were mine

(t-note)
They rode forth peacefully
warriors
maidens
[had] ridden


[When]; hind (female deer) come dashing

I spoke of

waited under a bough

companions

blue
war-horse


place

hunting dog
Not more than a year ago



happen

gave him to the maiden

(see note); (t-note)
You put yourself in danger
Certainly, if you stay

give (care); cunning (skill)
Churl, though





Carlisle; (see note)
mother

As ready as you [are]
together
Unless; give up
before evening



Right away if you like; (t-note)
will go with me


guided them
anger
time



disgraced

robbed him of his dog

captured
hang
as
Lancelot [of]
armed

stir up

war-horses



see
way

pay



So many people

I think


I advise
wood’s shade



await (repay)





wounds






destroy
struck
blow



fierce young officers

prepared



waited



As one rightly reads in romance; (see note)

bones


hear
heavily landed
together

sparks; flew
helmet
(t-note)


time
(see note)


plentiful



bees
From him the blood ran
nearly dead

angry in mind


reached


hindquarters
exhausted
ready
pare off (cut off) his head
(t-note)
suffered severe pain
i.e., summoned his courage
recovered his bearing
grabbed; nigh (near)
down by
coat of mail







(t-note)


chestnut; would have killed him; (see note)
surrendered


And [yielded] by clear decision



[With the] promise that he would go




(t-note)
i.e., in all ways





together
fierce
happened





Michael




recover strength

delay

[So] that he was whole and sound





delaying

gave himself up

young
Overcame



worthy










leaves grow green
flowers [bloom] in beautiful halls






city
walls

many gates



Isle of Gold
(t-note)


gentility
cheeks; rose
fear
(see note)

trapped
(see note)
fierce

lay
bow


tall

suit (purpose)


hair of his fearsome beard
swine (boar)
In certain truth





truthfully
certainly


An ass or cattle
sturdy
Scarcely (with difficulty), by the cross
Can pull him and his gear
fierce
endure his blows


Noble maiden




kill
oaks

(see note)
(t-note)



city


wood



idols (i.e., pictures of idols); (see note)
not long
(see note)





quickly; (t-note)

well-being
truly; (t-note)



From




In truth, right away

chariots


i.e., in every way


believes in a heathen god; (see note)
day; (t-note)

asunder

sparks; flew


strike blows

(t-note)





repay; (t-note)
horse
lost his head

moment

grabbed
[horse’s] hindquarters
strength





describe

hostile
attempted
Each other
early morning (approx. 6 a.m.)
evening services


your grace (mercy)



request
repay

slay
honor
(see note)

delay





every bit
badly made
quickly (fiercely)

ready for you; (see note); (t-note)
Did you think, friend of the devil

pledge my word
baptism
Pay you well for your service



each to the other


swans





[To] where Magus’s shield
took it


vigor
Until

bank

a strong warrior







(t-note)
fight



left
off






(see note)
[She] received

aid
cruel

clothes
fine cloth
offered



swiftly granted her [desire]
(see note)

betray and harm




avenge



Knew
five other such [ladies]


tell of
(t-note)


illusions and fairy (magic)
blinded
attempt





pledge
To

knows





(t-note)
(t-note)



together


(see note)


laughed

(t-note)






splendidly enclosed with walls; (t-note)
appearance








Dwells; fierce
verily
(see note)



lodging
Joust

faith



bow down


together
wait

did not wait; (t-note)


immediately
dishonor
hesitate
(t-note)


ready

busily
hot (eager)



lodging












worthy


fable (a lie)




(see note); (t-note)

quickly




delay









pleasure








set
burnt wood
(t-note)
so marvelous a work





generous


(t-note)


toward the combat field
leopard
wait for




strong



pieces flew
together




grinned
anger

knows his art (i.e., fights well)



sharp points
violence
place







Off; sent


(t-note)

[Fragments of] armor around the neck and throat (see note); (t-note)
together
(see note)

joust
fetched

(t-note)
constable (steward)

without fail





aggrieved; (t-note)



until this day
I had a thought (I wondered)
kinship; (see note)





before we go further

cut off your head

ill pleased



truly


know








together
[in going] to there


villains


many times







together







foes


great power
necromancy (black magic); (see note)
to recount rightly (in truth)






skillfully (cunningly) made
(t-note)
Who bears a heart like a lion’s; (t-note)
Who has once dared come therein



placed (condemned)





condemn
Unless; to them




heir
rule; pleasure; (see note)


(see note)



[they] dined without delay (joyfullly)
many in faith
handsome hall
hear
(t-note)

inform


stout and strong



(t-note)
ready

eager
way
gate

dared



turned back again
swain (squire)
[Although] he wanted to ride with him

i.e., split his head open
(see note)
back again he (Sir Gesloke) rode







(see note)
dismounted
Trumpets, pipes, and shawms (oboes)
high table


strong and fierce
alight








(i.e., saw at all)
fine cloth
psaltery (stringed instrument)
every

stringed instrument
Organs


(t-note)

ignited; (t-note)
went
learn; spirit






of great skill

doors

imagery


eye
high table
silent
loud





shut





high table

roof



said [to himself]

Steeds he heard near
pleased

(see note)




[That] was covered with cloth
golden garlands



adventurous
It is such that
Although; proudly dressed

clever in your tricks




will


leapt
grabbed


(t-note)





disgraced

fierce



(t-note)
without fail (truly); (t-note)
Nearly

armor
eager



aware



coat of mail he tore
was angry (discomforted)


fierce; (t-note)


kill


wicked



courage revived
(t-note)
nobr>
reputation (honor)
(see note)
close by


wicked

So that he even cleaved

steed’s neck
warrior skilled

flesh; (t-note)

Padded jacket nor his spells
i.e., paid him back

dismounted

together



struck

learn

readily
strong
Of love (peace)


storytellers; table



(t-note)








ho! (stop); (t-note)



(t-note)

power (control)


lost
kill
[if] you save; (see note)



fortune; (t-note)
will not [accept any]


promised


struck; (t-note)
i.e., nothing stopped them




When




he desired
(t-note)


moment
bones



went back [to the hall]


cost me dearly


torment


might




opened


[he] sat
dragon (serpent)



Illuminated


huge
paws
hear





drew near him
before; knew
mouth
clasped his neck




(t-note)










knew
from the devil

i.e., with their spells
ruined (killed, disgraced)
magic
disgraced
to remain (wander) in misery forever
(see note)





I will give to you

Peacefully


quickly



kill





Where he was in a tower
conquered




off


(t-note)
waited for him


(t-note)
charmingly

(see note)


turned
power


truly; (t-note)


[when] she was born





agreement
(t-note)


fine purple
gray fur
as a start

privately

And [when]; dressed










many times
sorrows were better


homage
custom in [those] lands
sojourn (stay)




soon
together





That she had been saved from shame
gave joyfully
wed


bridal feast; (t-note)

tale

Were maidens


in goodly abundance



gifts


feast
complexion; rose


excellence


lie


(t-note)
pleases



begot
(t-note)




brought Lybeus to him





all powerful




courteous
strength

swain (squire)
(t-note)





story


together
much joy and pleasure









Ave Maria (Hail Mary)




story



 
Go To Item 21, Sir Corneus, introduction
Go To Item 21, Sir Corneus, text