"The Fair Unknown," English Romance (14th cent.), Part 1.
For words not explained in the margins, see the Glossary to The Riverside Chaucer
5 10 15 20 25 30 35 40 45 50 55 60 65 70 75 80 85 90 95 100 105 110 115 120 125 130 135 140 145 150 155 160 165 170 175 180 185 190 195 200 205 210 215 220 225 320 325 240 245 250 255 260 270 275 280 285 290 295 300 305 310 315 320 325 330 335 340 345 350 355 365 370 375 380 385 390 395 400 405 410 415 420 425 430 435 440 445 450 455 460 465 470 475 480 485 490 495 500 505 510 520 525 530 535 540 545 550 555 560 565 570 575 580 585 |
1 Jhesu Crist our saviour, And his moder, that swete flowr, Helpe hem at her nede That harkeneth of a conquerour, Wis of witte and wight werrour, And doughty man in dede. His name was called Gingelein, Beyete he was of Sir Gawein, By a forest side; Of stouter knight, and profitable, With Arthour of the Rounde Table, Ne herde ye never rede. 2 This Gingelein was fair of sight, Gentill of body, of face bright, All bastard yif he were; His moder him kepte with hir might, That he sholde se no wight Y-armed in no manere, For he was full savage And gladly wolde do outrage To his felawes in fere. And all for doute of wikked los His moder kepte him in clos, As doughty child and dere. 3 And for love of his fair vis, His moder clepede him Beaufis And non nother name; And himself was full nis; He ne axede nought, y-wis, What he hight, at his dame. As hit befelle upon a day, To wode he wente, on his play, Of deer to have his game; He fond a knight whar he lay, In armes that wer stout and gay, Y-slain and made full tame. 4 That child dide off the knightes wede, And anon he gan him schrede, In that riche armur; Whan he hadde do that dede, To Glastonbery he yede, Ther lay the king Arthour. He knelede in the halle, Before the knightes alle, And grette hem with honour; And seide, "King Arthour, my lord, Graunte me to speke a word, I pray thee par amour. 5 "I am a child uncouthe, And com out of the southe. And wolde be made a knight. Lord, I pray thee nouth With thy mery mouth Graunt me anon right!" Quoth Arthour the king, Anoon without any dwelling, "Tell me thin name aplight, For sithen I was y-bore, Ne fond I me before Non so fair of sight." 6 That childe seide, "By Seint Jame, I not what is my name, I am the more nis; But, while I was at hame, My moder, in hir game, Clepede me Beaufis." Quoth Arthour the king, "This is a wonder thing, By God and Seint Denis, Whanne he, that wolde be a knight, Ne wot noght what he hight, And is so fair of vis. 7 Now will I yeve him a name, Before yow alle in same, For he is so fair and fre; By God, and by Seint Jame, So clepede him never his dame, What woman that so hit be. Now clepeth him alle in use `Libeaus Desconus.' For the love of me; Than may ye wite a-rowe: `The faire unknowe,' Certes so hatte he. 8 King Arthour anon right Made him tho a knight, In the selve day; And yaf him armes bright, Him gerde with swerde of might, For sothe as I yow say. And henge on him a scheld, Riche and over-geld With a griffoun of say; And him betok his fader Gawein, For to teche him on the plaine, Of ech knightes play. 9 Whan he was knight y-made, Anon a bone there he bade, And seide, "My lord so free, In herte I were right glad, That firste fighte if I had, That ony man asketh thee." Than seide Arthour the king, I grante thee thin asking, What bataile that so hit be; But me thinketh thou art too ying, For to don a good fightinge, By aught that I can se. 10 Withoute more resoun, Duk, erl, and baroun, Wesch and yede to mete; Of all manere fusoun, As lordes of renown, Inough they hadde ete. Nadde Arthour bote a while, The mountance of a mile, At his table y-sete, Ther com a maide ride, And a dwerf by hir side, All beswette for hete. 11 That maide was clepede Elene, Gcntill, bright, and schene, A lady messenger; Ther nas contesse, ne quene, So semelich on to sene, That mighte be hir pere. Sche was clothed in tars, Roume and nothing skars, Pelured with blauner; Hir sadell was overgeld And with diamaundes fulfild; Milk whit was hir destrere. 12 The dwerf was clothed in ynde, Before and ek behinde, Stout he was and pert; Among alle Cristene kinde, Swich one ne schold no man finde, His surcote was overt. His berd was yelow as ony wax, To his gerdell henge his fax, I dar well say in certe; His schon were with gold y-dight, And coped as a knight, That semede no povert. 13 Teodelain was his name, Wide sprong his fame, By north and ek by southe; Muche he couthe of game, Citole, sautrye in same, Harpe, fithele, and crouthe; He was a noble disour With ladies in hir bowr. A mery man of mouthe. He spak to the maide hende: "To telle thin erende Time hit were nouthe." 14 That maiden knelde in halle Before the knightes alle And seide, "My lord Arthour, A cas ther is befalle, Worse with-inne walle. Was never non of dolour. My lady of Sinadoune Is brought in strong prisoun. That was of greet valour. Sche prayth thee send her a knight With herte good and light. To winne her with honour." 15 Up start the yinge knight, His herte was good and light, And seid, "Arthour, my lord, I schal do that fight And winne that lady bright, Yif thou art trewe of word." Quoth Arthour, "That is sooth! Certain, with-outen ooth, Ther I to bere record: God graunt thee grace and might To helde up that lady right With dinte of spere and sword!" 16 Then gan Elenbe to chide And seide, "Alas, that tide That I was hider y-sent! This word schal springe wide: Lore, king, is thy pride And thy manhod y-schent, When thou wilt send a child, That is witless and wilde, To dele doughty dent, And has knightes of main, Perceval and Gawain, Pris in ech turnement." 17 The dwerf with greet errour Wente to King Arthour And seide: "Kinde king, This child to ne werrour And do such a labour. Is nought worth a farthing. Er he that lady see He schal do batailes three, With-oute any lesing. At the pont perilous By the chapel auntrous Schal be his beginning." 18 Libeaus Desconus answerde, "Yet was I never aferd For dout of mannes awe. To fighte with spere or swerd Som del I have y-lerd, There many men were y-slawe. He that fleth for drede, I wolde, by way or strete His body were to-drawe. I will that bataile take And never one forsake, As hit is Arthours lawe." 19 Quoth Arthour anon right, "Thou getest non other knight, By God that bought me dere! Yif he thinketh thee nought wight Go get thee one, wher thou might, That be of more powere!" That maide for wrath and hete Nolde neither drinke ne ete For alle tho that there were, But set down all dismayd, Till the table was unlayd, Sche and the dwerf in fere. 20 King Arthour in that stounde Het of the Table Rounde Four the beste knightes, In armes hole and sounde, The best that mighte be founde, Army hem anon rightes And seide, "Thorgh helpe of Crist That in flome was baptist, He schall holde all his hightes, And be good champioun To the lady of Sinadoun, And felle hir fon in fightes." 21 To army hem wer they fain, The firste was Sir Gawein, That other Sir Percevale, The thirde was Sir Ewein, The ferthe Sir Agrafrain; So seith the Frensche tale. They caste on him of silk, A gipell as white as milk, In that semely sale; And an hauberk bright, That richely was adight, With mailes thikke and smale. 22 Gawein his owene sire Heng aboute his swire A scheld with a griffoun; An helm of riche atire That was steele and non ire, Percevale set on his crown; Launcelet him brought a sper, In werre him with to were, And also a fell fachoun. Ywein him brought a stede, That was good at nede, And egre as lioun. 23 The knight to hors gan spring, And rod to Arthour the king, And seide, "My lord hende, Yef me thy blessinge, Anoon withoute dwellinge, My will is for to wende." Arthour his hond up haf, And his blessinge him yaf, As corteis king and kende; And seide, "God grante the grace, And of spede space, To bringe the birde of bende!" 24 The maide, stout and gay, Lep on hir palfray, The dwerf rod hir beside: Till the thirde day Upon the knight alwey Ever sche gan to chide. And seide, "Lorell caitif, Though thou wer worth swiche five, Y-tint now is thy pride; This pase kepeth a knight, That with ech man will fight, His name is spronge wide: 25 William Selebraunche, His fight may no man staunch, He is werrour out of witte. Thorugh herte, other thorugh haunche, With his sper he will launche All that ayens him rit." Quoth Libeaus Desconus, Is his feghtinge swich use? Was he never y-hitte? For aught that may betide, To him I will ride, And loke how he sitte 26 They ride forth al three, With merthe and greet solempnitee, By the chapel aunterous, The knight they gonne y-see, In armes bright of blee, Upon the pont perilous. He bar a scheld of grene, With thre liouns of gold schene, Well proude and precious, Of swich lengell and trappes; To delen ech man rappes Ever he was fous. 27 When he hadde of hem sight To hem he rod full right, And seide, "Welcome, beaufrer! Who so rit here day other night, With me he mot fight, Other leve his armes here." Quoth Libeaus Desconus, "For love of swete Jhesus, Now let us passe skere; We haveth for to wende, And beth fer from our frende, I and this meide in fere. 28 William answerede tho, "Thou might not scapy so, So god yeve me good reste! We willeth er thou go Fighte bothe two A forlang here by weste." Quoth Libeaus, "Now I see That hit nell non other be, In haste do thy beste. Take thy cours with schafte, Yif thou art knight of crafte, For here is min all preste. 29 No lengere they nolde abide, Togedere they gonne ride, With well greet randoun; Libeaus Desconus that tide Smot William in the side With a sper feloun. But William sat so faste, That his stiropes to-braste, And his hinder arsoun; William gan to stoupe Over his horses croupe That he fell adoun. 30 His stede ran away, William nought longe lay, But start up anoon right And seide, "By my fay, Before this ilke day Ne fond I non so wight. Now my stede is ago, Fighte a fote also, As thou art hendy knight." Quoth Lybeaus Desconus, "By the love of Jhesus, Therto I am full light!" 31 Togedere they gone spring, And fauchouns out to fling, And foughte fell and faste; So harde they gonne dinge That fier, with-oute lesinge, Out of her helmes braste. But William Salebraunche Libeaus Desconus gan launche Thorgh out his scheld in haste; A cantell fell to grounde; Libeaus that ilke stounde In herte was agast. 32 Than Libeaus, wis and wight, Defende him as a knight, As werrour queinte and sligh, Barbel and crest in sight He made fly down right Of Williames helm on high. And with the point of his swerd He schaved Williams berd, And com by flessch right nigh; William smitte to him tho, That his sword brast a-two, That many man hit sigh. 33 Tho gan William to crie, "For love of Seint Marie, A-live let me passe! Hit wer greet vilanye To do a knight to dye Wepeneles in place." Quoth Libeaus Desconus, "For love of swete Jhesus, Of live gettest thou no grace, But yif thou swere an oth, Er than we hennes goth, Right here before my face. 34 "In haste knele adoun And swer on my fachoun Thou schalt to Arthour wende, And sey, `Lord of renoun, As overcome and prisoun, A knight me hider gan sende. That is y-cleped in use Libeaus Desconus, Unknowe of kith and kende.'" William on knees down set, And swor as he him het, Her forward, ord and ende. 35 Thus departede they alle, William to Arthours halle Toke the righte way; As cas ther gan befall: Three knightes proud in palle He mette that selve day. His susteres sones three Wer the knightes free, That were so stout and gay, Whan they sighe William blede, As men that wolde awede, They made greet deray 35 And seide, "Eem William, Who hath don thee this scham? Why bledest thou so yerne?" He seide, "By Seint Jame, One, that is nought to blame, A knight stout and sterne. Libeaus Desconus he hight; To felle his fon in fight He nis nought to lerne. A dwerf rit him before, His squier as he wore, And ek a well fair berne. 37 "But o thing greveth me sore, That he hath do me swore, Upon his fauchoun bright, That I ne schall never more, Till I come Arthour before, Sojourne day ne night; To him I mot me yeld, As overcome in feld, Of his owene knight, And never ayens him bere Nother scheld ne spere; All this I have him hight." 38 Than seide the knightes free, Thou schalt awreke be, For sothe, with-oute faile; He one ayens us three Nis nought worth a stree For to holde bataile. Wend forth and do thin othe. And though the traitour be wroth, We schull him assaile; Er he this forest passe His hauberk we will to-rasse, Though he be thikke of maile. 39 Now lete we William be, That wente in his jornee, Toward Arthour the king; Of these knightes three Harkeneth, lordinges free, A ferly fair fightinge. They armede hem full well, In iren and in stel, With-oute ony dwelling, And lepe on stedes sterne, And after gonne y-erne, To slee that knight so yinge. 40 Herof wiste no wight Libeaus, the yinge knight, But rod forth pas by pas; He and that maide bright Made togedere all night Game and greet solas. Mercy sche gan him crie That sche spak vilanye. He foryaf her that trespas. The dwerf was hir squier, And servede her fer and ner Of all that nede was. 41 A morwe, when that hit was day, They wente in her jornay Toward Sinadoune, Than sigh they in the way Three knightes stout and gay, In armes bright of ble, Ride out of Carlioune, All y-armed into the teth, (Everich swor his deth), And stedes baye and browne, To him they cride aright, "Thef, turne again and fight, Or leve here thy renown!" 42 Libeaus Desconus tho cride, "I am redy to ride Ayens you alle in same. He prikede, as prince in pride, His stede in bothe side, In ernest and nought in game. The eldest brother gan bere To Sir Libeaus a spere, Sir Gower was his name, But Libeaus rod him so nigh, That he brak his thigh, And ever efte he was lame. 43 The knight gronede for paine, Libeaus with might and maine, Felde him flat adown. The dwerf Teodelein Tok the stede by the reine, And lep into the arsoun, And rod forth also sket Ther that the maide set, That was fair of fasoun, Tho lough that maide bright, And seide, "This yinge knight, Is chose for champion." 44 The middell brother beheld How his brother in the feld Hadde lore main and might. He smitte, as hit is teld, Sir Libeaus in the scheld With ike spere full right. The schaft a two did braste; The hede stiked faste In place there it was pight. Libeaus than gan bere With the point of his spere The helm awey of the knight. 45 The yingest com y-erne Upon a stede sterne, Egre as lioun, Him thoghte his body wold berne, But he might also yerne Felle Libeaus adown. As werrour out of witte, Libeaus on helm he smit, With a fell fauchoun, His strok so hard he set, Thorgh helm and basnet, That sword tochede his crown. 46 Tho was Libeaus agreved, Whan he feld on his heved That sword with egre mode; His brond aboute he waved, All that he hit he clevede, As werrour wild and wode. "Allas," he seide tho, "Oon ayens two To fighte; that is not good." Well faste they smitte to him, And he with strokes grim, Well harde ayens hem stode. 47 But thorgh Goddes grace That other brother he gan brace Under his right arm tho. He threw him in that place And in that thilke space His left arm brast a two. The yingest sigh that sight; He nadde main ne might To fight ayens his fo. To Libeaus up he yelde His spere and ek his schelde And mercy cride him tho. 48 Libeaus answerede, "Nay! The scapest nought so away, By God that schop mankende; Thou and thy bretheren tway. Schull plight here your fay, To king Arthour to wende; And sey, `Lord of renoun, As overcome and prisouns, A knight us hider gan sende, To yelde you tour and town, And dwelle in your bandoun, Ay with-outen ende.' 49 "And but ye will do so Certes, I schall you slo, Long er hit be night." The knightes swere tho They wolde to Arthour go, And trewes ther they plight. Libeaus and that may, Wente in their journay, As they hadden tight; Till the thirde day They ride in game and play, He and that maide bright. |
them . . . their strong warrior begotten . . . by You never heard read (about) handsome in appearance Even though he was creature together fear of evil fame visage "Pretty son" foolish was called shroud, put on went now right away truly since not = ne wot, do not know foolish home knows not . . . is called visage give together in use, customarily know in turn is called then girded adorned with gold fine woolen cloth entrusted to in the field boon, request young talking washed and went foison, plenty Nadde = ne hadde, had not the time of a mile-way (20 min.) sweaty because of heat shining (beautiful) nas = ne was so pretty to look upon equal silk flowing, roomy furlined . . . white fur horse dark blue lively Such a one open certainly shoes . . . adorned dressed in a cope cithole, psalter (stringed instruments) fiddle . . . violin-like instrument reciter of romances message now situation sadness value young happy if Maintain that lady's rights time Lost put to shame To strike stout blows passion, fury warrior lie bridge chapel of adventures For fear of man Something . . . learned Where . . . slain dragged to pieces immediately at a dear price If he does not seem strong to you one passion Nolde = ne wolde tho = those cleared of dishes together time, moment Commanded whole to arm themselves through river . . . baptized promises foes eager tunic handsome hall adorned father hanged. . . neck Griffin (Gawain's heraldic symbol) adornment not iron war . . . make war sword give heaved, lifted kind time of success lady from bondage vigorous wretched coward five such lost passage guards strike rit = rideth custom hue bridge shining harness straps . . . trappings ready handsome (good) brother rit = rideth must other = or safely together escape furlong nell = ne will ready nolde = ne wolde force stirrups broke to pieces rear saddle-bow rump courteous eager swords strike fire . . . lies piece ingenious and sly tho = then saw die But if = unless sword defeated and taken prisoner customarily commanded Their agreement, beginning rich cloth saw . . . bleed go mad disturbance uncle is called foes nis = ne is young man made me swear sword promised avenged one against straw hack to pieces wondrously delay did run, rushed young forgave all at once spurred saddle-bow quickly then laughed lost told put running burn But = unless . . . quickly sword head-piece touched (i.e., cut) felt . . . head cleaved embrace saw nadde = ne had yielded faith defeated and prisoners control forever slay decided |
Adapted for beginning readers of Middle English from Libeaus Desconus, ed. Max Kaluza, Altenglische Biblikothek Vol. 5, Leipzig, 1890.