Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, SYR PERCYVELLE OF GALLES, by ANONYMOUS


Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

SYR PERCYVELLE OF GALLES, by                    
First Line: "dear lords, listen now to me, / hearken words but two or three"
Last Line: "grant to us his dear blessing, / amen, for charitie"
Subject(s): Fairy Tales


DEAR Lords, listen now to me,
Hearken words but two or three
Of a hero fair and free,
Who was fierce in fight;
His right name was Percyvelle,
He was fostered on the fell,
Drank the water of the well
Yet was valiant wight.
Of a nobleman the son,
Who, since that he first begun,
Goodly praise and worship won
When he was made knight.
In the good King Arthur's hall
He was best beloved of all,
Percyvelle they did him call
Whoso reads aright.

Who the tale aright can read
Knows him one of doughty deed,
A stiff knight upon a steed,
Wielding weapons bold;
Therefore did the King Arthour
Do unto him great honour,
Gave his sister Acheflour
For to have and hold
As his wife, to his life's end;
And with her broad lands to spend,
For right well the knight he kenned
Gave her to his hold.
And of goodly gifts full share
Gave he with his sister there,
(As it pleased the twain full fair,)
With her, robes in fold.

There he gave him robes in fold,
And broad lands of wood and wold
With a store of goods untold
That the maid he take;
To the kirk the knight did ride
There to wed that gentle bride
For rich gifts and lands so wide
And for her own sake;
Sithen, without more debate,
Was the bridal held in state
For her sake who, as her mate,
This good knight would take;
Afterward, withouten let,
A great jousting there was set,
And of all the knights he met
None would he forsake.

None would he forsake that stead,
Not the Black Knight, nor the Red,
None who there against him sped
With or shaft or shield;
There he did as noble knight,
Who well holdeth what he hight,
And full well he proved his might,
All to him must yield;
There full sixty shafts I say
Brake Syr Percyvelle that day, --
On the wall his bride, she lay,
Watched him weapons wield.
Tho' the Red Knight, he had sworn,
From his saddle is he borne,
And, well nigh of life forlorn,
Lieth on the field.

As he lay there on the wold
Many a man must him behold
Who, thro' shield and armour's hold,
'Stonied was that tide;
All men marvelled who were there,
Whether great or small they were,
That thus Percyvelle should dare
Doleful dints abide;
There was no man, great or small,
No, not one amongst them all,
Who on grass dare risk a fall
And would 'gainst him ride;
There Syr Percyvelle that day
Bare the tourney's prize away,
Homeward did he take his way,
Blithe was she, his bride!

But tho' blithe the bride, and gay
That her lord had won the day
Yet the Red Knight sick he lay
Wounded by his hand;
Therefore goodly gifts he plight
That, an he recover might,
And again by day or night,
In the field might stand,
That he'ld quit him of the blow
Which he from his hand must know,
Nor his travail fruitless go,
Nor be told in land
That Syr Percyvelle, in field,
Thus had shamed him under shield --
Payment full for that he'ld yield
If in life he stand!

Now in life they be, the two,
But the Red Knight naught may do
To bring scathe upon his foe
Till the harm befell;
As it chanced, there fell no strife
Till that Percyvelle, in life,
Had a son by his young wife,
After him to dwell;
And whenas that child was born
He bade call him on the morn
By the name his sire had worn,
Even Percyvelle;
Then the knight was fain to make
Feast for this, his young son's sake,
Thus without delay they spake
And of jousting tell.

Now of jousting do they tell,
And they say, Syr Percyvelle,
In the field he thinks to dwell
As he aye has done;
There a jousting great they set
E'en of all the knights they met
For he would his son should get
That same fame anon;
When thereof the Red Knight heard
Blithe was he of that same word,
Armed him swift with shield and sword,
Thither hath he gone;
'Gainst Syr Percyvelle would ride
With broad shield and shaft that tide,
There his vow he would abide,
Mastery maketh moan!

Mastery, it hath made moan --
Percyvelle right well hath done
For the love of his young son,
On the opening day,
Ere the Red Knight thither won
Percyvelle smote many a one,
Duke, earl, knight, and eke baron
Vanquished in the play;
Honour had he won for dower, --
Came the Red Knight in that hour
But, "Woe worth false armour"
Percyvelle may say!
There Syr Percyvelle was slain --
That the Red Knight was full fain
In his heart, I will maintain,
When he went his way!

When he went upon his way,
Then no man durst aught to say
Were it earnest, were it play,
For to bid him bide;
Since that he had slain right there
The best champion that was e'er,
With full many a wound so sare,
'Stonied all that tide;
Then no better rede had they
Than the knight to lowly lay,
As men must the dead alway,
And in earth must hide:
She who was but now his wife
Sorely might she rue her life,
Such a lord to lose in strife,
She ailed not for pride.

Now is Percyvelle, the knight,
Slain in battle and in fight,
And her word that lady plight,
Keep it if she may,
That ne'er, so her vow doth run,
She will dwell with her young son
Where such deeds of arms were done,
Nor by night, nor day.
In the woodland shall he be,
Where, forsooth, he naught shall see
But the green and leafy tree,
And the groves so gray;
Never shall his mind be bent
Nor on joust nor tournament,
But in the wild wood content,
He with beasts shall play!

There with wild beasts should he play --
Thus her leave she took straightway,
Both of king and lord that day,
Gat her to the wood;
Left behind her bower and hall,
But one maid she took withal,
Who should answer to her call,
When in need she stood;
Other goods would she have naught,
But a flock of goats she brought,
For their milk might serve, she thought,
For their livelihood;
And of all her lord's fair gear
Naught she beareth with her here
Save a little Scottish spear,
Serve her son it should.

And when her young son should go
In the woodland to and fro',
That same spear, I'ld have ye know,
She gave him one day;
"Mother sweet," then straight quoth he,
"Say, what may this strange thing be,
Which ye now have given me,
What its name, I pray?"
Then she spake, that fair ladie,
"Son," she quoth, "now hearken me,
This a doughty dart shall be
Found in woodland way."
Then the child was pleased at heart
That she gave to him this dart,
Therewith he made many smart
In the woodland gay.

Thus amid the woodland glade
Dart in hand, the lad, he strayed,
Underneath the wild wood's shade,
Throve there mightily,
And with this, his spear, would slay
Of wild beasts and other prey
All that he might bear away,
Goodly lad was he;
Small birds too, he shot them there,
Many a hart and hind so fair
Homeward to his mother bare,
Never lack had she.
So well did he learn to shoot,
There was no beast went afoot,
But in flight might find small boot,
Run them down would he!

All the prey he marked, it fell --
Thus he grew and throve right well,
Was a strong lad, sooth to tell,
Tho' his years were few;
Fifteen winters, yea, and more,
Dwelt he in those holts so hoar,
Naught of nurture nor of lore
From his mother knew;
Till it fell upon a day,
That to him she thus did say:
"Sweet son, now I rede thee pray
To God's Son so true,
By His aid to prosper thee,
So that, by His Majesty,
Thou a good man well may'st be
And long life thy due!"

"Mother sweet," then answered he,
"Say, what kind of god is He
Whom thou now hast bidden me
In this wise to pray?"
"Son, 't is the great God of Heaven,"
So she spake, "within days seven
Hath He made both Earth and Heaven,
Ere closed the sixth day."
"By great God," his answer ran,
"An I may but meet that man,
Then, with all the craft I can,
I to Him will pray!"
Thus then, did he live and wait,
E'en within his mother's gate,
For the great God lay in wait,
Find Him if he may!

Then, as thro' holts hoar he fled,
So the chance befell that stead,
That three knights toward him sped,
Of King Arthur's inn;
One, King Urien's son, Ywain,
And with him was good Gawain,
And Sir Kay rode with the twain,
All were of his kin;
Thus in raiment rich they ride,
But the lad had naught that tide
Wherewith he his bones might hide,
Saving a goat's skin;
Burly was he, broad to see,
On each side a skin had he,
Of the same his hood should be
Even to his chin.

The hood came but to his chin,
And the flesh was turned within,
The lad's wit, it was full thin
When he should say aught;
And the knights were all in green,
Such as he had never seen,
Well he deemed that they had been
The great God he sought;
And he spake: "Which of ye three
Shall in sooth the great God be,
Who, my mother told to me,
Hath this wide world wrought?"
Straight made answer Sir Gawain,
Fair and courteous spake again:
"Son, so Christ to me be fain,
Such shall we be naught."

Then he quoth, the foolish child,
Who had come from woodland wild,
To Gawain the meek and mild,
Soft of speech and fair:
"I shall slay ye now all three
Save ye straightway tell to me
What things ye shall surely be,
Since no Gods ye were?"
Swift he answered him, Sir Kay,
"Yea, and then who should we say
Were our slayer here to-day
In this woodland bare?"
At Kay's words he waxed full wroth,
Save a great buck 'twixt them both
Stood, I trow me, little loth,
Had he slain him there.

But Gawain, he quoth to Kay:
"Thy proud words shall us betray,
I would win this child with play,
Would'st thou hold thee still."
"Sweet son," in this wise spake he,
"Knights, I trow we be, all three,
With King Arthur dwelling free
Who waits on the hill."
Quoth then Percyvelle, so light,
He who was in goatskin dight:
"Will King Arthur make me knight,
An I seek him still?"
Then Sir Gawain answered there:
"That to say, I do not dare,
To the king I rede thee fare,
Ask of him his will."

Thus to know King Arthur's will,
Where he tarried stayed they still,
And the child he hastened, till
To his home he came.
As he sped him thro' the wood,
There he saw a full fair stud
Both of colts and mares so good,
But not one was tame;
And he said: "Now, by Saint John,
Such beasts as I now see yon,
Such the knights did ride upon,
Knew I but their name!
But as I may thrive, or thee,
E'en the biggest that I see
It shall shortly carry me
Home unto my dame!"

"When I come unto my dame
An I find her, at this same,
She will tell to me the name
Of this stranger thing."
Then, I trow, the biggest mare
Swiftly did he run down there,
Quoth: "I trow thou shalt me bear
With morn, to the King."
Saddle-gear the lad did lack,
Sprang upon the horse's back,
She bare him the homeward track,
Failed him for no thing.
Then his mother, woe-begone,
Wist not what to do anon,
When she saw her youthful son
A steed with him bring.

Horse she saw him homeward bring;
And she wist well by that thing
What is in-born out will spring
Spite of wiles she sought.
Swift she spake, the fair ladie:
"That this dole I needs must dree,
For the love of thy body
That I dear have bought!"
"Dear son," so she spake him fair,
"Much unrest for thee I bear,
What wilt do with this same mare
That thou home hast brought?"
But the boy was blithe and gay
When he heard his mother say
This, the brood-mare's name alway,
Of naught else he thought.

Now he calleth her a mare,
E'en as did his mother ere,
Such he deemed all horses were,
And were named, i' fay;
"Mother, on you hill I've been,
There three knights I now have seen,
And with them have spoke, I ween,
These words did I say:
I have promised them all three,
That I with their king will be,
Such an one shall he make me
As they be to-day."
Thus he sware by God's great Might:
"I shall keep the words I plight,
Save the king shall make me knight
Him with morn I'll slay."

Spake the mother full of woe,
For her son she grieved so
That she thought she death should know,
Knelt down on her knee:
"Son, hast ta'en to thee this rede,
Thou wilt turn to knightly deed,
Now where'er strange fate may lead,
This I counsel thee;
Morn is furthermost Yule-day,
And thou say'st thou wilt away
To make thee knight, if so thou may,
So hast told to me;
Dost of nurture little know,
Now in all things measure show
If in hall or bower thou go,
And of hand be free."

Then she quoth, the lady bright:
"Where thou meetest with a knight
Doff thy hood to him forthright,
Greet bim courteously;"
"Mother sweet," he answered then,
"Saw I never any men,
If a knight I now should ken
Tell the sign whereby?"
Then she showed him miniver,
For such robes she had by her,
"Son, where thou shalt see such fur
On their hoods to lie."
"By Great God," then answered he,
"Where that I a knight may see
Mother, as thou biddest me,
Even so do I."

All that night till it was day
He beside his mother lay,
With the morn he would away,
May what will betide;
Bridle had he never none,
In its stead, he naught hath won,
But a withy took anon
This, his steed, to guide;
Then his mother took a ring,
Bade the same again to bring:
"This shall be our tokening
Here I'll thee abide."
Ring and spear he taketh there,
Springeth up astride the mare,
From the mother who him bare
Forth the lad doth ride.

Fytte II

On his way, as he did ride,
Stood a hall, his way beside,
"Now for aught that may betide
Here within will I."
Without let within he strode,
Found a broad board set with food,
A well plenished fire of wood
Burning bright thereby.
And a manger too, he found,
Therein corn, it lay, unground,
To the same his mare he bound
E'en with his withy.
Said: "My mother counselled me
That I should of measure be,
Half of all that here I see
I shall let it lie."

Thus the corn, he parts it fair,
One half gives unto his mare,
To the board betakes him there
Well assured that tide;
Found a loaf of bread so fine,
And a pitcher, full of wine,
And a mess, whereon to dine,
With a knife beside.
All the meat he findeth there
With his hands, in even share
He doth part -- "One half the fare
Shall for other bide."
And the one half eateth he,
Could he more of measure be?
He of hand would fain be free,
Tho' he had no pride!

Tho' the lad he had no pride,
Further did he go that tide
To a chamber there beside
Wonders more to see;
Clothing rich he there found spread,
Slept a lady there, on bed, --
Quoth: "A token that we wed
Shalt thou leave with me."
Then he kissed her, that sweet thing,
From her finger took a ring,
His own mother's tokening
Left her there in fee.
Then he went forth to his mare,
The short spear he with him bare,
Leapt aloft as he was ere,
On his way rides he.

Now upon his way rides he,
Marvels more full fain to see,
And a knight he needs must be
With no more delay.
He came where the king should be,
Served of the first mess was he,
And to him, right hastily,
Doth he make his way;
Hindrance brooked not, nor debate,
E'en at wicket, door, or gate,
Gat in swift, nor thought to wait,
Masterful, that day;
E'en at his first entering,
This, his mare, no lie I sing,
Kissed the forehead of the king,
Came so close alway.

Startled was the king, I trow,
And his hands, he raised them now,
Turned aside from off his brow
Muzzle of the mare;
And he quoth: "Fair child, and free,
Stand thou still, aside of me,
Say from whence thou now shalt be,
And thy will declare?"
Quoth the fool to Arthur mild:
"I be mine own mother's child
Come from out the woodland wild
Unto Arthur fair;
Yesterday I saw knights three,
Such an one make thou of me
Here, on this my mare by thee,
Ere thy meat thou share."

Out then spake Sir Gawain free,
Carver to the king was he,
Saith: "Forsooth, no lie this be,
I was one, i' fay.
Child, now take thou my blessing
For thy fearless following,
Here in sooth hast found the king
Who makes knights alway."
Then quoth Percyvelle the free:
"Now, if this King Arthur be,
Look a knight he make of me
Even as I say:"
Tho' he were uncouthly dight,
He sware: "By God's mickle Might,
Save the king shall make me knight,
Here I shall him slay."

All who heard him, young and old,
Marvelling, the king behold
That he suffer words so bold
From so foul a wight;
Stayed his horse the king beside --
Arthur looked on him that tide,
Then for sorrow sore he sighed
As he saw that sight;
Tears fell from his eyes apace,
Following each the other's trace,
Quoth the king: "Alas, this place
Knew me, day, or night --
That without him I should be
Living, who was like to thee,
Who so seemly art to see
An thou wert well dight!"

Quoth the king: "Wert better dight,
Thou wert like unto a knight,
Whom I loved with all my might
Whiles he was in life;
And so well he wrought my will,
In all ways of knightly skill,
That my sister, of goodwill,
Gave I him for wife.
For him must I make my moan,
He, now fifteen years agone,
By a thief to death was done
For a little strife;
Sithen am I that man's foe,
For to wreak upon him woe,
Death thro' me he may not know
He in crafts is rife!"

Quoth: "His crafts they be so rife
There is no man now in life
Who, with sword, or spear, or knife,
'Gainst him may avail,
Save but Percyvelle's young son;
An he knew what he had done,
The book saith, he might anon
'Venge his father's bale," --
The lad deemed too long he stayed
Ere that he a knight was made,
That he e'er a father had,
Knowledge did him fail;
Thus his meaning less should be
When unto the king said he:
"Sir, now let thy chattering be,
I heed not such tale."

Quoth: "I think not here to stand,
Nor thy chatter understand,
Make me knight with this, thy hand,
If it may be done."
Courteously, the king, he hight
That he now would dub him knight
If that he adown would light
Eat with him at noon;
Saw the king his face so free,
Evermore he trowed that he,
This child, of a sooth should be
Percyvelle's own son;
And it ran in the king's mood,
Acheflour, his sister good,
How she gat her to the wood
With her boy alone.

This boy, he came from the wood,
Evil knew he not, nor good,
And the king, he understood,
He was a wild wight;
So he spake him fair withal --
Then he lighted down in hall,
Bound his mare among them all,
To the board was dight;
But, ere that he might begin,
Or unto the meat might win,
'Mid them all, the hall within,
Came he, the Red Knight;
Pricking on a blood-red steed,
Blood-red too, was all his weed,
Fain to mock them all at need
With crafts, as he might.

With his crafts began to call,
Loudly hailed them recreants all, --
King and knights within that wall
At the board they bide;
Roughly took the cup in hand
That before the king did stand,
None withstood him, all that band
Deemed him mad that tide;
Portion full of wine it bare,
The Red Knight, he drank it there,
And the cup was very fair
All of red gold tried.
In his hand, as there it stood,
Took he up that cup so good,
Left them sitting at their food,
And from thence did ride.

As from them he rode away,
He who made this tale doth say
The grief that on Arthur lay
Never tongue might tell;
"Ah, dear God!" the king, he said,
"Thou Who all this wide world made,
Shall this man be ever stayed,
You fiend forced to dwell?
Five years has he, in this way,
Borne my cup from me away,
And my good knight did he slay,
E'en Syr Percyvelle.
Sithen, has he taken three,
And from hence he rideth free
Ere that I may harness me
Him in field to fell!"

"Peter!" Percyvelle doth cry,
"Strike that knight adown will I,
And thy cup bring presently,
Wilt thou make me knight."
"As I be true king," said he,
"I will make a knight of thee
If again thou bringest me
This, my cup so bright."
Up he rose, I trow, the king,
To his chamber hastening,
Thence good armour would he bring
That the lad be dight;
Ere the armour down was cast,
Percyvelle from hall had passed,
On his track he followed fast
Whom he thought to fight.

With his foe he goes to fight,
He none other wise was dight
But in goatskins three, to sight,
As a fool he were;
Cried: "Man, on thy mare now hear,
Bring again now the king's gear,
Or I'll smite thee with my spear,
And make thee less fair!"
After the Red Knight would ride
Boldly, would for naught abide,
Quoth: "A knight I'll be this tide,
Of thine armour heir!"
And he sware by Christ's sore Pain:
"Save thou bring this cup again
With my dart thou shalt be slain,
Cast down from thy mare!"
When the knight beheld him so,
Fool he deemed who was his foe
Since that he had called it so,
This his steed, a mare.

Thus to see him well with sight
He his vizor raised forthright,
To behold how he was dight
Whose words sense did lack;
Quoth: "An I reach thee, thou fool,
I will cast thee in the pool,
E'en for all the Feast of Yule,
As thou wert a sack!"
Then quoth Percyvelle the free:
"Fool or no, whate'er I be,
This I trow, we soon shall see
Whose brows shall be black!"
There his skill the lad would try,
At the knight a dart let fly,
Smote him full there in the eye,
Come out at the back!

For the blow that he must bear,
From the saddle shaken there,
Who the sooth will hearken fair,
The Red Knight was slain!
On the hill he fell down dead,
While his steed, at will it fled,
Percyvelle quoth in that stead:
"Art a lazy swain!"
Quoth the child in that same tide:
"Would'st thou here my coming bide,
I to catch thy mare will ride,
Bring her thee again;
Then I trow we twain with might,
Will as men together fight,
Each of us as he were knight
Till the one be slain."

Now the Red Knight lieth slain,
Left for dead upon the plain,
And the boy doth ride amain,
After his good steed;
But 't was swifter than the mare,
For naught else it had to bear
But the harness, fast and fair
Fled, from rider freed;
Big with foal the mare that tide,
Of stout make was she beside,
Little power to run when tried,
Nor pursue with speed;
The lad saw how it should be,
Swift adown to foot sprang he,
And the right way hastily
Ran, as he had need.

Thus, fleet-foot, the lad he fled,
On his way he surely sped,
Caught, strong-hand, the steed that stead,
Brought it to the knight;
"Now a fell foe shalt thou be,
Wilt not steal away from me,
Now I pray thou dealest free
Blows, as fits a knight!
See, thy mare I bring thee here,
Mickle of thy other gear,
Mount, as when thou first anear
Came, an thou wilt fight!"
Speechless still the knight he lay,
He was dead, what could he say?
The child knew no better way
Than adown to light.

Percyvelle adown is light,
Of his arms would spoil the knight,
But he might not find aright,
How was laced the weed;
Armed was he from head to heel
In iron harness, and in steel;
The lad knew not how to deal,
Aid himself in need;
Quoth: "My mother counselled me
When my dart should broken be,
From the iron burn the tree,
Fire is now my need."
Thus he seeks a flint straightway,
His fire-iron he takes that day,
And with never more delay
He a spark hath freed.

Kindles there a flame, I trow,
Mid the bushes seeking now,
Swift he gathers branch and bough,
That a fire would make;
There a great blaze doth he light,
Thinks therein to burn the knight,
Since he knew no better sleight
This, his gear, to take.
Now Sir Gawain, he was dight,
Followed fast to see the fight
'Twixt the lad, and the Red Knight,
All for the boy's sake;
Found the Red Knight where he fell,
Slain was he by Percyvelle,
And a fire, that burnt right well,
Birch and oak did make!

Of these twain the fire alway,
Great the brands and black, that day;
"With this fire what wilt thou, say?"
Quoth he, soft and still.
"Peter!" quoth the boy also,
"An I thus the knight might know,
From his iron I'll burn him so,
Right here, on the hill."
Answered him the good Gawain:
"Since the Red Knight thou hast slain,
To disarm him am I fain,
Wilt thou hold thee still."
Then Sir Gawain down did light,
Took his harness from the knight,
On the child the same did dight,
E'en at his own will.

In his armour doth he stand,
Takes the knight's neck in his hand,
Casts him on the burning brand
There to feed the flame;
Then quoth Percyvelle in boast:
"Lie thou still therein and roast,
I keep nothing of thy cost,
Naught that from thee came."
Burns the knight, and none doth heed,
Clad the boy is in his weed,
And hath leapt upon his steed,
Well-pleased, at that same;
He looked downward at his feet,
Saw his gear so fair and meet,
"Men may me as knight entreat,
Call me by that name!"

Quoth Gawain the boy unto:
"From this hill I rede we go,
Hast done what thou willed to do,
Near it draws to night."
Quoth the lad: "Dost trow this thing,
That unto thy lord and king,
I myself again will bring
This, his gold so bright?
Nay, so I may thrive, or thee,
I'm as great a lord as he,
Ne'er to-day he maketh me,
Any way a knight!
Take thou now the cup so fair,
And thyself the present bear,
Forth in land I'll further fare
Ere from steed I light."

Neither would the lad alight,
Nor would wend with that good knight,
Forth he rideth all the night,
So proud was he then;
Till at morn, on the fourth day,
With a witch met, so men say,
And his horse and fair array,
She right well might ken;
And she deemed that it had been
The Red Knight, whom she had seen
In those arms afore, I ween,
Such steed spurred he then;
Swiftly she to him would hie,
Quoth: "In sooth I tell no lie,
Men said, thou didst surely die,
Slain by Arthur's men!

"Of my men one but now came
From you hill, and at that same,
Where thou see'st the fierce fire flame,
Said that thou wast there!"
Percyvelle he sat stone still,
Answer made he none, until
She had spoken all her will,
Never word spake there:
"I on yonder hill have been,
Nothing else I there have seen,
But goat-skins, naught else, I ween,
Than such worthless fare."
"My son, tho' thou there wast slain,
And thine armour from thee ta'en,
I could make thee whole again,
Hale, as thou wert e'er."

Then by that wist Percyvelle
It had served him right well
That wild fire he made on fell,
When the knight was slain;
And he deemed 't were well that she
In that self-same place should be;
That old witch on spear bare he
To the fire again;
There in mickle wrath and ire
Cast the witch into the fire:
"With the son thou didst desire
Lie ye still, ye twain."
Thus the lad, he left them there,
And upon his way did fare,
Such-like deeds to do and dare,
Was the child full fain.

Came he by a forest side,
There ten men, he saw them ride,
Quoth: "For aught that may betide
With them would I be."
When the ten they saw him, they
Deemed him the Red Knight alway,
Who would seek them all to slay,
Fast they turned to flee;
Since he so was clad that stead,
For their life from him they fled,
Aye the faster that they sped
Faster followed he.
Till he knew one for a knight,
Of the miniver had sight,
Put his vizor up forthright:
"Sir, God look on thee!"

Quoth the child: "God look on thee!"
Quoth the knight: "Well may'st thou be,
Ah! Lord God, now well is me
That I live this day!"
By his face right well he thought
The Red Knight it should be naught,
Who as foeman had them sought,
Boldly there did stay;
For it seemed him by the sight
That the lad had slain the knight
In whose armour he was dight,
Rode his steed alway;
Soon the knight, he spoke again,
And to thank the child was fain;
"Thou the fiercest foe hast slain
Who beset me aye!"

Quoth then Percyvelle the free,
Saith: "Now wherefore did ye flee
All of ye when ye saw me
Riding here anigh?"
Then he spake, that aged knight,
Who was past his day of might,
Nor with any man might fight,
Answered, loud and high.
Saying: "These nine children here
They be all my sons so dear
Since to lose them I must fear
For that cause fled I,
For we deemed that it had been
The Red Knight we now had seen,
He had slain us all, I ween,
With great cruelty.

"Without mercy he were fain
One and all of us were slain,
To my sons he'd envy ta'en
Most of any men:
Fifteen years agone, 't is true,
That same thief my brother slew
And hath set himself anew
For to slay us then;
Fearing lest my sons should know
When they should to manhood grow,
And should slay him as their foe
Where they might him ken.
Had I been in that same stead
When he smote my brother dead,
I had never eaten bread,
Till I'd burned him then!"

"Burned," quoth Percyvelle, "he is,
I sped better than I wist," --
As the last word he must list
Blither waxed the knight;
By his hall their road it fell,
Strait he prayed that Percyvelle
There awhile with them should dwell,
And abide that night.
Well it should his guest befall --
So he brought him to the ball,
Spake him fair, that he withal
From his steed should light;
Then, the steed in stable set,
To the hall the lad doth get,
And, with never further let,
They for meat are dight.

Meat and drink for them were dight,
Men were there to serve aright,
And the lad found with the knight,
Enow, to his hand.
As at meat they sat, and ate,
Came the porter from the gate,
Said, a man without did wait,
From the Maiden-Land;
Saith: "Sir, he doth pray of thee
Meat and drink for charitie,
For a messenger is be,
Nor for long may stand."
The knight bade him come within,
For he said: "It is no sin
That the man who meat may win
Fill the traveller's hand."

Came the traveller at that stead,
By the porter thither led,
Hailed the knight who sat at bread
On the dais on high.
And the knight, he asked him there
Courteously, whose man he were?
And how far he thought to fare?
"Tell me without lie."
"From the Lady Lufamour
Am I sent to King Arthour,
That he lend, for his honour
To her grief an eye;
There hath come a Soudan bold,
Ta'en her lands, slain young and old,
And besieged her in her hold,
Plagues her ceaselessly!

"Saith, at peace he'll leave her ne'er --
Since the maid is wondrous fair,
And hath mickle wealth for share,
He doth work her woe.
Thus in grief she leads her life,
All her men he fells in strife,
Vows he'll have her for his wife,
And she will not so;
By that Soudan's hand, I ween,
Slain have sire and uncle been,
Slain hath she her brothers seen,
He is her worst foe!
He so closely her hath sought
To one castle is she brought,
From those walls he yieldeth naught,
Ere he come her to.

"Saith, he will her favours know --
Liever she to death would go
Than that he, her bitterest foe,
Wed her as his wife!
But he is so valiant wight,
All his foes he slays forthright,
And no man may with him fight,
Tho' his fame were rife!"
Then quoth Percyvelle: "I pray
Thou wilt show to me the way,
Thither, as the road it lay,
Without any strife!
Might I with that Soudan meet,
Who a maid doth so entreat,
He full soon his death should meet,
I remain in life!"

But the messenger, he sware,
He should bide there where he were:
"To King Arthur will I fare,
There mine errand say.
Mickle sorrow me betide
If I longer here abide,
But from hence I now will ride
Swiftly as I may."
When the lad in this wise spake,
Prayer to him the knight doth make,
His nine sons with him to take,
But he saith him "Nay."
Yet so fair his speech shall be
That he taketh of them three,
In his fellowship to be,
Blither then were they.

Of their errand blithe they were,
Busked them, on their way to fare,
Mickle mirth then made they there,
Little their amend!
He had ridden but a while,
Scarce the mountenance of a mile,
He bethought him of a guile
They the worse did wend!
They with him to fare were fain --
Otherwise thought their chieftain,
Sendeth ever one again
Back, at each mile's end,
Till they one and all were gone --
Then he rideth on alone
Spurring over stock and stone
Where no man him kenned.

Known of no man would he be;
Ever further rideth he
'Midst a strange folk, verilie,
Valiant deeds to do;
Now, I trow, hath Percyvelle
With two uncles spoken well,
Nor might one the other tell,
Or his true name know;
Now upon the way he's set
That shall lead him, without let,
Till the Soudan he has met,
Blacked his brows with blow.
Percyvelle no more I'll sing,
On his way God shall him bring --
Unto Arthur now, the king,
Thither will we go.

On our way we'll go anon --
To Caerbedd the king has gone,
Mourning doth he make and moan,
He doth sigh full sore;
Woe its will on him doth wreak,
And his heart is waxen weak
For he deems that he shall speak
With Percyvelle no more.
As abed he lieth there
Came the messenger, who bare
Letters from the lady fair,
Stood the king before;
Arthur might not stand that day,
Read the script as there he lay:
"This thy message," doth he say,
"Answered is before."

Quoth: "Thine answer dost thou see,
He who sick and sore may be
Scarce may fare afar, that he
In the field may fight!"
Cried the messenger withal,
Quoth: "Woe worth this wicked hall,
Why did I not turn at call,
Go back with that knight?"
"What knight was that?" quoth the king;
"Whom thou meanest in this thing,
In my land is no lording
Worthy name of knight!"
Quoth the messenger straightway:
"This his name he would not say,
Fain were I to know alway
What the lad, he hight.

"This much had I from that knight,
He 'His mother's son' was hight,
In what manner he was dight
Now I shall ye tell;
Worthy wight was he to see,
Burly, bold of body he,
Blood-stained arms should, verilie,
Tale of battle tell;
He bestrode a blood-red steed,
Aketoun, and other weed,
All of that same hue indeed,
They became him well!"
Then he gave command, the king,
Horse and armour forth to bring:
"May I trow thy chattering,
That was Percyvelle!"

For the love of Percyvelle
They to horse and armour fell,
There would they no longer dwell,
Forth to fare were fain:
Fast they ride upon their way,
They were sore afeard that day
Ere they come unto the fray
That he should be slain;
Arthur with him taketh three
Knights, the fourth himself shall be,
Now so swiftly rideth he
Follow may no swain.
Now the king is on his way,
Let him come whene'er he may
I will seek now in my play
Percyvelle again.

Seek we Percyvelle again, --
He hath passed out on the plain,
Over moorland, and mountain
Seeketh Maiden-Land;
Till toward the eventide
Warriors bold he saw abide,
With pavilions pitched in pride
Round a city stand;
Hunting was the Soudan then,
He had left there many men,
Twenty score, an ye would ken,
Should the gates command;
Ten score, while the day was light,
And eleven, through the night,
All of them were armed aright,
Weapons in their hand.

There with weapons in their hand
They would fight e'en as they stand,
Sitting, lying, all that band,
Eleven score of men;
Riding as one rides a race,
Ere he wist, in little space,
Thro' the thickest press, apace,
Rode he 'mongst them then;
Started up a soldier bold,
Of his bridle layeth hold,
Said that he would fain be told
Of his errand then;
Said he: "I be come here fain
For to see a proud Soudain,
He, i' faith, shall soon be slain
If I might him ken!

"If to know that man I may,
Then at morn, when dawns the day,
Fast together shall we play
With our weapons tried!"
When they heard that he, in fray,
Thought their Soudan for to slay
Each one fell on him that day,
There to make him bide;
When he saw he thus was stayed,
Him, who hand on bridle laid,
Rode he down, and undismayed,
There, the gate beside,
Thrust with spear about him there,
And his point through many bare,
There was no man who might dare
Face the lad that tide.

Who in town the tidings tell
Say, beneath his feet they fell,
That bold body, Percyvelle
Sped, his foes to still;
Thought, 't was small speed with his spear,
Tho' it shore thro' many sheer,
Folk enow he found them here,
Had of fight his fill;
From the hour of middle night,
Even till the morning light,
Were they ne'er so wild, or wight,
He wrought at his will;
And he dealt thus with his brand,
There was none might 'gainst him stand,
Half a blow take from his hand
Struck with such good-will.

Now he striketh them, I ween,
Till the Paynim's heads are seen
Hop as hailstones on the green,
Round about the grass;
Thus he dealt them many a blow,
Till the dawn began to show
He had laid their lives full low,
All who there would pass;
When his foes thus slain should be
Very weary then was he,
This I tell ye verilie,
He but cared the less,
An he living were, or dead,
So he found him in such stead
He might peaceful lay his head,
Surety find in stress.

There he found no surety
Save what 'neath the wall should be,
There a fair place chooseth he,
And adown did light;
There he laid him down that tide,
And the steed stood him beside,
For the foal was fain to bide,
Wearied with the fight.
On the morn, when it was day,
On the wall the watchman lay,
Saw signs of an ugly fray
On the plain there dight;
Yet more marvel should there be,
Living man was none to see, --
Then they call that fair ladie
To behold that sight.

Comes the lady to that sight;
Lufamour, that maiden bright,
Mounts the wall, that from the height,
She may see the field;
Heads and helmets, many a one,
(Trow me, lie I tell ye none,)
There they lay the grass upon,
With them many a shield;
'T was a marvel great they thought,
Who had such a wonder wrought
In such wise to death had brought
All that folk on field,
And within the gate came ne'er
For to tell what men they were,
Tho' they knew the maid was there
Fair reward to yield.

Their reward she fain would pay --
Forth in haste they go their way
If on field they find them aye
Who had done this deed.
'Neath their hand they looked around,
Saw a mickle steed that stound,
Blood-stained knight who lay on ground
By a blood-red steed;
Then she quoth, that lady bright:
"Yonder doth there lie a knight,
Who has surely been in fight
If I right may read;
Either hath that man been slain,
Or to slumber is he fain,
Or he is in battle ta'en,
Blood-stained is his weed."

Quoth she: "Blood-stained is his weed,
Even so his goodly steed,
Such knight in this land, indeed,
Did I never see;
What may he be, if he rise?
He is tall as there he lies,
And well made in every wise
As a man may be."
Then she called her chamberlain,
Who by name hight fair Hatlayne,
The courtesy of good Gawain
In hall practised he;
Then she bade him go his way --
"If you knight he live alway,
Bid him come to me straightway,
Pray him courteously."

Now to pray him as he can
'Neath the wall he swiftly ran,
Warily he waked the man,
But the steed stood still;
As the tale was told to me
Down he kneeled on his knee,
Mildly hailed the knight so free,
Spake him soft and still;
"This my lady, Lufamour,
She awaits thee in her bower,
Prayeth thee, for thine honour
Come, if so thou will."
When he heard her message there
Up he rose with him to fare,
That man, who a stout heart bare,
Would her prayer fulfil.

Now her prayer to fulfil
Followed he her servant's will,
Went his way with him, until
To that maid came he;
Very blithe that maiden bright
When she saw that lad with sight,
For she trowed that he was wight,
Asked him fair and free --
Of that lad she asks alway,
(Tho' he fain had said her nay,)
If he wist who did them slay
Who her foes should be?
Quoth he: "None of them I sought,
I had with the Soudan fought,
To a stand they had me brought,
Slain they were by me."

Quoth he: "There they needs must stay!"
Lufamour, that lady gay,
By his words she knew straightway
That the lad was wight;
And the maid was blithe that stound
That she such an aid had found
'Gainst the Soudan, who was bound
With them all to fight;
Straight she looked upon him there,
Thought him meet her land to share
If on field he won her fair
With mastery and might;
Then they stabled there his steed,
And himself to hall they lead,
For delaying was no need,
They to dine are dight.

Set the lad on dais fair,
And with richest dainties there,
'T is no lie I now declare,
Serve him speedily;
Sat him on a chair of gold
By the mildest maid on mold,
And the fairest to behold,
As at meat sat she;
There she made him semblance good,
As they fell there to their food,
Skilfully she soothed his mood
At meat, mirthfully;
That for this, her sake, I trow,
He doth undertake, and vow,
He will slay the Soudan now,
And that speedily.

Quoth he: "Without any let
When I have the Soudan met,
A sad stroke on him I'll set
That his pride shall spill."
Quoth the lady fair and free:
"Who my foeman's bane shall be
He shall have my land and me,
Rule us as he will."
There his meal had been but small
When word came unto the hall
Saying, many men withal
Harnessed were on hill.
Woeful for their fellows slain
They the city nigh had ta'en,
Men within the hold amain
Tolled the bell with will.

Now they toll the common bell;
Word is come to Percyvelle
He no longer there would dwell,
Leapt from dais that day.
Lust for fighting did he know,
Crying: "Kinsmen, now I go
All yon men I'll lay them low
Ere I cease to slay!"
Then she kissed him without let,
On his head the helm she set,
To the stable did he get
Where his steed did stay.
There were none with him to fare
For no man from thence he'ld spare,
Forth he rides, and hastes him there
To the thickest fray.

To the press he came apace
Riding as one rides a race,
All the folk before his face
They of strength had none;
Tho' to take him fain they were
Yet their blows, they harmed him ne'er,
'T was as they had smitten there
On a right hard stone;
Were they weak, or were they wight,
All on whom his brand did smite
Felled their bodies were forthright
Better fate had none;
And I wot so swift he sped
Ere the sun was high o'er head
He that folk had smitten dead
Left in life not one.

When they all were slain, then he
Looked around him, fain to see
If anigh him more should be
Who would with him fight;
As he, hardy, did behold,
Lo, he saw far off on wold,
Four knights under shield so bold
Thither ride aright;
The first should King Arthur be,
Then Ywain, flower of chivalry,
And Gawain, he made them three,
Kay, the fourth was hight;
Percyvelle, he spake full fair:
"Now to yonder four I'll fare,
If the Soudan shall be there
Do, as I am plight."

Now to hold the troth he plight
'Gainst the four he rideth right,
On the wall, the lady bright
Lay, and did behold,
How these many men he'd slain,
Sithen, turned his steed again
'Gainst four knights doth ride amain
Further on the wold;
Then I trow she was full woe
When she saw him further go
And to seek four knights as foe
Shield and shaft uphold;
Mickle men and stern they ride,
And right well she deemed that tide
That with bale they'd make him bide
Who was her strong hold.

Tho' he was her surest hold
Yet that maid must needs behold
How he rideth forth on wold
'Gainst the four amain;
Then King Arthur quoth forthright:
"Hither comes a valiant knight
Who, because he seeketh fight,
Forth to ride is fain;
If to fight he fares anon
And we four should strive 'gainst one,
Little fame we then had won
If he soon were slain."
Fast the four, they forward ride,
And the lot they cast that tide,
Sought who first the joust should bide,
That fell to Gawain.

When unto Gawain it fell
Thus to ride 'gainst Percyvelle,
Then the chance it pleased him well,
From them did he fare;
Ever nearer as he drew,
Ever better then he knew
Of the arms and steed the hue
That the lad he bare;
"Ah! dear God," quoth Gawain free,
"Now what may this venture be?
An I slay him, or he me,
Sorry fate it were!
We be sisters' sons, we twain,
Were one by the other slain
He who lives might mourn amain
That he born was e'er!"

Of his skill no proof he showed
Sir Gawain, as there he rode,
Drew his rein, and there abode
To himself quoth low:
"Now an unwise man I be
Thus to vex me foolishly;
None shall aye so hardy be
But his peer may know;
Percyvelle, he slew that knight,
Yet another, e'en as wight,
May in that same gear be dight,
Taken all him fro'
If my kinsman I should spare
And his gear another ware
Who should overcome me there
That would work me woe!

"That would work me mickle woe --
Now, as I on earth may go
It shall ne'er befall me so
If I right may read;
One shaft shall I send, to wit,
And will seek first blow to hit,
Then shall I know, by my wit,
Who doth wear that weed."
No word more he saith that tide
But together swift they ride,
Men, who joust were bold to bide
And stiff knights on steed;
Strong and stalwart steeds had they,
And their shields failed not that day,
But their spears brake in that fray,
As behoved them need.

Spears, that erst were whole, they brake, --
With that, Percyvelle, he spake,
In this wise a tale would make
That on his tongue lay;
Saith: "My way I wide have gone,
Yet, I trow me, such Soudan,
I' faith, saw I never none,
Ne'er by night or day:
I have slain, if I thee ken,
Twenty score of these, thy men,
Yet of all whom I slew then
Deemed it but a play,
'Gainst the dint I took from thee,
Ne'er such debt was owed by me,
Two for one, my pay shall be
If so be I may!"

Then he answered, Sir Gawain,
(Sooth it is, be ye certain
Of that same was he full fain
Where in field they fight;)
For, by these, his words so wild
Of a fool, the knight so mild
Wist full well it was the child
Percyvelle, the wight --
Quoth: "No Soudan now I be,
But that same man, certainly,
Who thy body aided thee
First in arms to dight;
Thy stout heart I praise alway
Tho' thy words were rough to-day,
And my name, the sooth to say
Is Gawain, the knight!"

Quoth he: "Who will read aright
Knows me for Gawain the knight."
Then the twain, they ceased to fight,
As good friends of old;
Quoth: "Bethink thee, when thy foe
Thou wast fain in fire to throw
To disarm thou didst not know
This, his body cold"; --
Then was Percyvelle the free
Joyful, as he well might be,
For he wist well it was he
By this token told;
Then, as Gawain did him pray,
He his vizor raised straightway
With good cheer they kissed that day
Those two barons bold.

Now they kiss, the barons twain,
Sithen talked, as they were fain,
Then, by them he draweth rein,
Arthur, king, and knight;
Then, as they afore had done,
Gave he thanks to God anon,
Mickle mirth, I trow, they won,
That they met aright;
Sithen, without more delay,
To the castle made their way
And with them he rides that day
Percyvelle the wight;
Ready was the porter there,
Thro' the gate the knights they fare,
Blither heart no lady bare
Than Lufamour, the bright!

"Succour great thou dost me send,
This my castle to defend
If the Soudan 'gainst me wend
Who is my worst foe!"
Then they set their steeds in stall
And the king wends to the hall,
His knights follow him withal
Since 't was fitting so,
Ready was their meal that day,
And thereto they take their way
With the king, the lady gay,
And the knights also.

Welcome good she gave her guest,
Rich meats proffered of the best,
Dearest drinks at their behest
Brought for them, I ween,
Ate and drank with mirth on mold,
Sithen talked, and tales they told
Of deeds that were wrought of old
Both the king and queen;
And the first thing, did she pray
Of King Arthur, he would say
Of child Percyvelle alway
What his life had been?
Lufamour, she wondered sore,
That he arms so bravely bore,
Yet knew naught of knightly lore
As she well had seen.

She had seen, with this same child,
Naught but words and works so wild,
Marvelled much, that lady mild,
Of his folly there;
Then hath Arthur shewn, that stead,
How that Percyvelle was bred
From the first, till he was led
Forth, on field to fare;
How his father, slain was he,
And his mother fain would flee,
Dwell alone 'neath woodland tree,
None her flight to share;
"There he dwelt for fifteen year,
Had for fellow the wild deer,
Little need ye wonder here
That so wild he were!"

When he told this tale withal
To that lady fair in hall
Gracious words had he at call
For them everyone;
Then quoth Percyvelle, the wight:
"If I be not yet a knight
Thou shalt keep thy promise plight
Thou would'st make me one!"
Then the king he answered so:
"Other deeds thou needs must do,
'Gainst the Soudan shalt thou go,
Thus thy spurs be won!"
Then quoth Percyvelle the free:
"Soon as I the Soudan see,
Even so, I swear to thee,
Shall the deed be done!"

"As I sware," so doth he say,
"That I would the Soudan slay,
I will work as best I may
That word to maintain."
That day did they no more deed,
Those knights, worthy under weed,
Busked them there, to bed to speed
Great and small were fain;
Till ere morn hath waxen high
Comes the Soudan with a cry
All his folk, he found them lie,
They'd been put to pain;
Soon he asked who was the knight
Who had slain his men with might
And in life had left the fight,
Mastery to gain?

Now to win the mastery
To the castle doth he cry
If one were with heart so high
Fain with him to fight?
Man for man to challenge fain:
"Tho' he all his folk hath slain,
He shall find Gollrotherame
Meet him as is right;
But this forward I demand,
That thereto ye set your hand,
He who shall the better stand,
Prove the most of might,
That he slay his foe this tide,
He the land, both broad and wide,
Holds, and taketh for his bride
Lufamour, the bright!"

And that same, the King Arthour,
And the lady Lufamour,
All who were within that tower
Granted readily;
They called Percyvelle the wight,
And the king there dubbed him knight
Tho' he little knew in sight
Stout of heart was he;
Bade him that he be to praise,
Gentle, and of courteous ways,
And Syr Percyvelle the Gallays,
Should his title be.
Thus the king, in Maiden-land,
Dubbed him knight with his own hand,
Bade him firm 'gainst foe to stand,
Plague him ceaselessly.

Little peace he took that same,
'Gainst the Soudan swift he came,
Who hight Gollerotherame,
And was fell in fight;
In the field so broad and wide
No more carping made that tide
But together soon they ride
With their shafts aright;
Then the Soudan, strong in weed,
Percyvelle bare from his steed,
Two land's length, I trow, indeed,
With mastery and might;
On the earth the Soudan lay,
And his steed, it fled away,
Jesting, Percyvelle doth say:
"Hast the troth I plight!

"I thee plight a blow, I trow,
And methinks, thou hast it now,
Were it so, 't would please me, thou
Ne'er of this should mend!"
O'er the Soudan did he stay,
As upon the ground he lay,
Held him down to earth alway
E'en with his spear-end.
Fain he had his foeman slain,
E'en that miscreant Soudane,
But no way could find again,
Had small skill to wend;
Then he thinks, the lad so bold,
Of wild works he wrought of old,
"Had I now a fire on wold
Burning were thine end!"

Quoth: "I'ld burn thee here forthright,
Then thou should'st have no more might
'Gainst a woman aye to fight,
I would teach thee fair!"
Quoth the good Gawain that day:
"Thou could'st, didst thou know the way,
And would'st light from steed alway
Overcome him there."
Light of mood, the boy, and gay,
Thinks on other thing straightway.
Quoth: "A steed, now didst thou say?
I deemed this a mare!"
In the stead there, as he stood,
Little recked for ill or good,
Swiftly did he change his mood
Slacked his spear point there.

When he up his spear had ta'en,
With that, Gollerotherame,
This same miscreant Soudane,
Sprang upon his feet,
Forth his sword then draweth he,
Strikes at Percyvelle the free,
And the boy scarce skilled should be
These, his wiles, to meet;
But the steed, at his own will,
Saw the sword, and stayed not still,
Leapt aside upon a hill,
Five strides maketh fleet;
Even as he sprang there-by,
Then the Soudan raised a cry,
Waked the boy full suddenly
From his musings sweet.

He in musing deep did stay,
All his dreams then fled away,
Lighted down without delay
'Gainst him for to go;
Quoth: "I trow, hast taught to me
How I best may deal with thee."
Swift, his sword then draweth he,
Struck hard at his foe;
Thro' the neck-bone shore the blade,
Mouthpiece, gorget, useless laid,
And the Soudan's head he made
Fly the body fro'.
Then he strode, the knight so good,
To his steed, as there it stood,
That fair maiden mild of mood,
Much mirth might she know.

Very mirthful he, that tide,
To the castle did he ride,
Boldly there did he abide
With that maiden bright;
Joyful were they everyone
That the Soudan was undone,
And he had the woman won
By mastery and might.
Said of Percyvelle, that he
Worthy was a king to be,
Since he kept full faithfully
That which he had hight.
There was nothing more to say
But, on the appointed day,
He wed Lufamour, the may,
Percyvelle, the wight.

Now has Percyvelle the wight
Wedded Lufamour, the bright,
King hath he become of right
Of that land so wide;
Then King Arthur, on a day,
Thought no longer there to stay,
Took leave of the lady gay
And from thence would ride;
Percyvelle there leaveth he
King of all that land to be
Since with ring, the knight so free,
Wed that maid as bride.
Sithen, on th' appointed day,
Rode the king upon his way,
As for certain sooth I say,
Nor would more abide.

Now doth Percyvelle abide
There, within those boroughs wide,
For her sake who was his bride,
Wedded there with ring;
Well he wielded rule in land,
All men bowed them to his hand,
At his will the folk, they stand,
Know him for their king;
Thus within that burg, right well,
Till the twelvemonth's end, it fell,
With his true love did he dwell,
Thought of ne'er a thing,
Thought not how his mother, she,
Dwelt beneath the greenwood tree,
How her drink should water be
That from well doth spring.

Drinks spring-water from the well,
Eats of herbs, no lie I tell,
With none other thing doth dwell
In the holts so sere;
Till it chanced upon a day
As within his bed he lay,
To himself he 'gan to say
Soft, with sigh and tear:
"Last Yule day, methinks it were,
I on wild ways forth did fare,
Left my mother man-less there
In the woodland drear --"
To himself then sayeth he:
"Blithe, I ween, I ne'er may be
Till I may my mother see,
Or of her may hear."

Now to wot how she doth fare
That good knight doth armour bear,
Nor would longer linger there
Spite of aught they say;
Up he rose within that hall,
Took his leave of one and all,
Both of great and eke of small,
Forth would go his way,
Tho' she doth him straight entreat,
Lufamour, his true love sweet,
While the days of Yule fast fleet
He with her should stay,
He denied her of that thing,
But a priest he bade them bring,
Bade a Mass for him to sing,
Rode forth that same day.

Now from thence the knight doth ride,
Never man he wist that tide
Whitherward he thought to ride
His grief to amend;
Forth he rideth all alone,
Goeth from them everyone,
None might know where he is gone
Or might with him wend;
Forward doth he take his way,
'T is the certain sooth I say,
Till a road he found alway
By a forest end.
Then he heard, the road anigh,
As it were a woman's cry
Praying Mary mild, on high,
She would succour send.

Praying Mary, mild of mood,
She would send her succour good --
As he came there thro' the wood
He a marvel found;
For a lady, fair to see,
Stood fast bounden to a tree,
'T is the sooth I say to ye,
Hand and foot were bound;
When her plight he thus did know
Fain was he to ask her who
He should be, who served her so,
As he thus had found?
Saith she: "Sir, 't is the Black Knight,
He who is my lord by right,
Who in this wise hath me dight
Brought me to this stound."

Quoth she: "Here he left me bound
For a fault that he hath found,
Yet I warrant thee this stound,
Evil did I none!
For it chanced e'en as I say,
That upon my bed I lay
As it were the last Yule-Day,
Now a twelvemonth gone,
Were he knight, or were he king,
One in jest hath done this thing,
He with me exchanged a ring,
Richer had I none!
That man did I never see
Who made this exchange with me,
But I wot, whoe'er he be,
He the better won!"

Quoth: "The better doth he own,
For such virtue in a stone,
In this world I ne'er have known,
Set within a ring,
For the man who doth it wear,
Or upon his body bear,
Never blow may harm him there,
Or to death him bring."
Percyvelle wist without fail,
When he heard that lady's tale,
He had brought her into bale
When he changed her ring;
Straightway to her speaketh he,
To that lady fair and free:
"I shall loose thee from that tree
By my faith as king!"

Percyvelle was king and knight,
Well he held what he had hight,
And he loosed that lady bright,
Who stood bound to tree;
Down she sat, the lady fair,
Percyvelle beside her there,
Wayworn, since he far did fare,
Fain to rest was he;
Deemed he well might rest that tide,
Yet short leisure might he bide,
As he lay, the dame beside,
His head on her knee,
She waked Percyvelle the wight,
Bade him flee with all his might:
"Yonder cometh the Black Knight,
Slain thou sure shalt be!"

Quoth she: "Sir, thou sure shalt die,
This I tell thee certainly,
Yonder, see, he draweth nigh
Who shall slay us two."
But the knight he answered free:
"Thou but now didst say to me
That no dint my death should be,
Nor should work me woe."
Then his helm on head he set,
But, ere he to horse might get,
The Black Knight with him hath met,
Hailed him as his foe;
Quoth he: "How? What dost thou here?
Would'st thou then thy playmate cheer?
For this shalt thou pay full dear
Ere I hence shall go!"

Quoth the knight: "Ere hence I go,
I shall surely slay ye two,
And the like of ye also,
Fair reward to yield!"
Then quoth Percyvelle the free:
"Now, methinks, we soon shall see
Who of us shall worthy be
To be slain in field!"
No word more they spake that tide,
But right soon together ride,
As men who would war abide,
Stiff, with shaft and shield.
And Syr Percyvelle, the wight,
He hath borne down the Black Knight,
Then, I trow, the lady bright
Succoured him on field;

His best succour did she wield,
Save she there had been his shield,
He had sure been slain on field,
Swift and certainly;
For as Percyvelle the keen
Fain the Black Knight's bane had been
Came the lady in between,
And did "Mercy!" cry;
For her sake did he forbear,
And he made the Black Knight swear
To forgive that lady fair,
Put his ill-will by;
And, himself, he sware that day
That he ne'er beside her lay,
Wronged her not in any way
That were villainy!

"Villainy I did her ne'er,
When I saw her sleeping there,
Then I kissed that lady fair,
That to own, I'm fain!
From her hand I took a ring,
And I left her slumbering,
And the truth of that same thing
Will I here maintain!"
That naught else had chanced, that, he
Sware by Jesu, verilie,
For that same, right readily,
Here would he be slain!
"Ready is the ring, I trow,
If mine own wilt give me now,
Of that same exchange, I vow,
Shall I be full fain!"

Quoth: "Mine own I'll gladly take --"
In this wise the Black Knight spake:
"No denial will I make
Thou too late shalt be!
Swift that ring did I demand,
Drew it there from off her hand,
To the lord of this same land,
Bare it speedily!
Mourning sore, that ring I bare,
To a good man took it there,
No more stalwart giant shall fare
On this earth than he!
There is neither knight nor king
Who durst ask from him that ring,
But that same to death he'll bring,
Hot his wrath shall be!"

"Be he hot, or be he cold --"
Thus spake Percyvelle the bold,
(For the tale that knight had told
He waxed wroth that day;)
Quoth: "On gallows high may he
Hang, who gives this ring to thee
Ere mine own thou bringest me,
Which thou gav'st away!
If none other way there be
Then right soon shalt tell to me
What like man, in sooth, is he
Who is strong in fray?
I to speak no more be fain,
I must win it back again,
Lost thy share in these rings twain
Tho' more precious they!"

Quoth: "Had they more precious been --"
Quoth the knight in wrath, I ween,
"That with small delay be seen,
What like man is he,
If to keep thy word thou dare,
Percyvelle of Galays, fare
To yon lofty palace, there
Should he surely be;
Thy ring with that giant grim,
(Bright the stone, and nothing dim,)
There, forsooth, shalt find with him,
Given it was by me.
In that hold, or eke without, --
Or, perchance, he rides about, --
But of thee he'll have small doubt
As thou sure shalt see!"

Quoth the knight: "Thou sure shalt see,
That I tell thee certainlie," --
On his way then rideth he
Wondrous swift that tide;
Stood the giant in his hold
Who was lord o'er wood and wold,
Saw Syr Percyvelle the bold
O'er his land to ride;
On his porter calls, I ween,
Saith: "Now say, what may this mean?
For a bold man have I seen
O'er my lands to ride.
Reach me down my plaything there,
And against him will I fare,
Better lot at Rome he 'ld share
As I thrive, this tide!"

An he thrive, or vanquished be,
Club of iron taketh he,
And 'gainst Percyvelle the free,
Goes his way forthright,
Weighty blows that club should deal,
That a knight full well should feel,
For the head, well wrought of steel,
Twelve stone weighed aright;
Bound the staff with iron band,
And with ten stones of the land,
One was set behind his hand,
Was for holding dight;
Three and twenty, fully told,
Ill might any man on mold,
As the tale it now is told,
'Gainst such weapon fight!

Thus, to smite each other down,
Met they on a moorland brown,
A full mile from any town,
'Neath their shield so bold;
Then he quoth, the giant wight,
Soon as he beheld that knight:
"Mahoun, praised be thy might!"
Did him well behold;
"Art thou he, now tell me true,
Who Gollerotherame slew,
Other brother ne'er I knew
Than himself, of old?"
Then quoth Percyvelle the free:
"Thro' God's Grace, I'll so serve thee,
And such giants as ye be
Slay them all on fold!"

Such a fight was seldom seen,
For the dale it rang, I ween,
With the dints that passed between
These two, when they met;
The giant, with his weapon fell,
Fain bad smitten Percyvelle,
Bending low, he swerved full well,
And a stroke swift set;
The giant's blow, it went astray,
Hard as flint the club alway,
Ere the staff he well might stay,
Or his strength might let,
In the earth the club, it stood,
To the midmost of the wood,
Percyvelle, the hero good,
Forth his sword would get.

Forth he drew his sword that day,
Smote the giant without delay,
Nigh unto his neck alway
Even as he stood,
Strikes his hand off with a blow,
His left foot doth cleave also,
Dealt such dints upon his foe,
Nighed him as he would;
Percyvelle he quoth: "I ween,
Had thy weapon smaller been
Better luck thy hand had seen,
Thou hadst done some good;
Now, I trow, that ne'er again
Shall thy club from earth be ta'en,
Or thy way thou ridest fain,
Ne'er, upon the Rood!"

Quoth he: "By the Holy Rood,
As in evil aye thou stood,
Of thy foot thou get'st no good,
Save that hop thou may!"
Then his club aside he laid,
Smote the hero undismayed,
In the neck, with knife's sharp blade,
Near enow were they.
Wrathful at the blow, I ween,
The giant's hand he smote off clean,
As none had aforetime been,
Both hands were away!
Then his bead from off him drave --
He was a discourteous knave
Thus a giant's beard to shave,
I forsooth, may say!

Then, as I the sooth may say,
Left the giant where he lay
And rode forth upon his way
To the fortress-hold;
When he saw his lord was dead,
Then the porter swiftly sped,
From the knight, the keys, that stead,
Would he not withhold;
Percyvelle, ere other thing,
Prayed the porter of the ring,
Thereof, could he tidings bring?
And straightway he told,
Showed him straightway to the kist,
Where the treasure was, he wist,
Bade him take there, as he list,
All he would of gold.

Percyvelle, from treasure hold
Speedy, turned out all the gold,
There, before him on the mold,
Fell the ring he sought;
Stood the porter at his side,
Saw the ring from coffer glide,
And he quoth: "Woe worth the tide
That same ring was wrought!"
Percyvelle, he answered free,
Asked him why, and wherefore, he
Banned that ring so bitterly,
What was in his thought?
Then the porter answered fair,
By his loyalty he sware:
"I the truth will here declare
And delay for naught."

Quoth: "The truth I tell to thee,
The knight whose this ring should be
As a present gave it free,
And hath hither brought;
He, forsooth, my master there,
Took the gift with favour fair,
Lord of this land was he e'er,
For his marvels wrought.
Dwelling nigh, there chanced to be
At that time, a fair ladie,
And my lord, right loyally,
Loved her, as I thought;
So it chanced upon a day
As in sooth I now shall say,
That my lord went forth to play,
And her love besought.

"Now the lady doth he pray
His true love to be alway,
Pleading straitly, that he may
Of her favoured be;
As his first prayer he would bring,
He would proffer her the ring,
When she saw that tokening,
Sore dismayed was she;
Wept, and wailed, and cried amain:
'Traitor, thou my son hast slain,
And the ring from him hast ta'en
That was given by me!'
Then her clothes from off her tare,
Gat her to the woodland there,
Witless doth that lady fare,
This the cause shall be!

"Even for such cause as this
Is the lady mad, I wis,
Wild within the wood she is
Ever since that tide;
Fain would I her succour be,
But whene'er she seeth me
From me swiftly doth she flee,
Will for naught abide."
Quoth Syr Percyvelle that day:
"Now will I without delay
Strive to make that lady stay,
But I will not ride;
But afoot I now will go,
An that lady shall me know
I may bring her out of woe,
For her son she'll bide!"

Quoth: "For this, her son, she'll bide,
But ahorse I will not ride
Till that lady I have spied,
Speed as best I may;
With none armour that may be,"
Quoth the knight: "I'll cover me,
Till that I my mother see,
Or by night or day;
But the self-same garb I ware
When from her I forth did fare,
That, I think again to bear
After other play;
And I trow that never more
Come I from the holts so hore
Till her lot, who once me bore,
I again may say."

"This for sooth I think to say." --
With that would he go his way,
With the morn, at dawn of day,
Forth the knight did fare;
All his harness left within,
Did on him a coat of skin,
To the woodland forth did win
'Mid the holts so bare;
Seven days long in vain he sought,
Of his mother found he naught,
Nor of meat or drink he thought,
He was full of care;
On the ninth day it befell
That he came unto a well
Nigh where he was wont to dwell,
And refresh him there.

He had drunk his fill that tide,
Further thought to wander wide,
When he saw, close to his side,
That same lady free;
But, whenas she saw him there,
She with threats would 'gainst him fare,
And swift answer did she dare
E'en that fair ladie;
She began to call and cry,
Saying: "Such a son had I!"
Then his heart for joy beat high,
Blithe, I trow, was he;
As he came to her anear,
So that she his voice might hear,
Spake he: "Sweet my mother dear,
Bide ye there for me!"

By that time so nigh was he
That she might in no wise flee,
This I tell ye certainly,
She must needs abide;
Sprang on him in wrath so keen,
That of very truth, I ween,
Had her strength but greater been
He were slain that tide;
But the stronger was he e'er,
Up he took his mother there,
On his back the lady bare,
Pure, I trow, his pride.
To the castle gate that day
Hastens he, the nearest way,
And the porter without stay,
Opens to him wide.

Bare his mother in that day, --
He who made the tale doth say
With what robes they had alway
Wrapped her warmly there;
There the lord a drink had wrought,
And that same the porter brought,
For none other had he thought
Save that lady fair.
Then, for so the tale they tell,
With a spoon they fed her well,
And asleep she swiftly fell
As I now declare;
And the lady sleeping lay
Three nights, and three days, alway
Doth the porter with her stay
Wakes and watches there.

Thus the porter watched her there,
Loyal love to her he bare,
Till at last the lady fair
Wakened, so I ween;
Then distraught was she no more,
But herself in such wise bore
As one hale, who ne'er of yore,
Otherwise had been;
Then they kneeled down, the three,
Gave God thanks on bended knee
That men thus His grace should see
As on them was seen.
Sithen, go they on their way,
And a rich bath make straightway,
For that lady, robed her gay,
Both in gray and green.

Percyvelle without delay,
'T is the sooth to ye I say,
Took his mother, and his way
Homeward rideth he;
Then great lords, and his sweet queen,
Welcomed him with joy, I ween,
When they him in life had seen
Blithe they well may be.
Then he fared to Holy Land,
Cities won with his strong hand,
There was slain, I understand,
This his end should be!
Jesu Christ, high Heaven's King,
Who is Lord of everything,
Grant to us His dear blessing,
Amen, for charitie.





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