No. XLV.

THE MARRIAGE OF SIR GAWAINE.

From "Percy's Reliques of Ancient English Poetry."

PART I.

KING Arthur lives in

merry Carleile,

And feemely is to fee;

And there with him Queene Guenever,
That bride foe bright of blee.

And there with him Queene Guenever,
That bride fo bright in bowre:
And all his barons about him stoode,
That were both stiffe and ftowre.

The King a royale Christmasse kept,
With mirth and princelye cheare;

To him repaired many a knighte,
That came both farre and neare.

And when they were to dinner fette,
And cups went freely round;
Before them came a fair damfèlle,
And knelt upon the ground.

"A boone, a boone, O kinge Arthùre,
"I beg a boone of thee

;

"Avenge me of a carlifh knighte,

"Who hath fhent my love and mee.

"At Tearne-Wadling * his castle stands, "Near to that lake fo fair,

"And proudlye rise the battlements, "And streamers deck the air.

Noe gentle knighte, nor ladye gay, "May pafs that caftle-walle: "But from that foule difcurteous knighte, "Mishappe will them befalle.

"Hee's twice the fize of common men, "Wi' thewes, and finewes ftronge, "And on his backe he bears a clubbe, "That is both thicke and longe.

"This

*Tearne-Wadling is the name of a small lake near Hasketh in Cumberland, on the road from Penrith to Carlisle. There is a tradition, that an old castle once ftood near the lake, the remains of which were not long fince vifible. Tearn, in the dialect of that country, fignifies a fmall lake, and is still in use.

"This grimme Baròne 'twas our harde happe,

"But yefter morne to fee;

"When to his bowre he bare

my

love,

"And fore misused mee.

"And when I told him, King Arthùre "As lyttle fhold him spare;

"Goe tell, fay'd hee, that cuckold kinge; "To meete mee if he dare.”—

Upp then fterted King Arthùre,
And fware by hille and dale,

He ne'er wolde quitt that grimme Baròne,
Till he had made him quail.

"Goe fetch my sword Excalibar;

"Goe faddle mee my steede;

"Nowe, by my faye, that grimme Baròne "Shall rue this ruthfulle deede.

And when he came to Tearne-Wadlinge,

Benethe the castle walle:

"Come forth; come forth; thou proude Baròne, "Or yielde thyself my thralle.”

On magicke ground that caftle stoode,
And fenced with many a spelle :

Noe valiant knight could tread thereon,
But ftraite his courage felle.

Forth

Forth then rufh'd that carlish Knight,
King Arthure felte the charm:
His sturdy finewes loft their ftrengthe,
Downe funke his feeble arme.

Nowe yield thee, yield thee, King Arthùre,

"Now yield thee unto mee;

"Or fighte with mee, or lofe thy lande,

"Noe better terms maye bee.

"Unless thou fweare upon the rood, "And promise on thy faye,

"Here to returne to Tearne-Wadling, "Upon the new-yeare's daye;

"And bringe me worde what thing it is "All women most defyre;

"This is thy ransome, Arthur," he sayes,

"Ile have no other hyre."

King Arthur then helde up his hande,

And fware upon his faye,

Then took his leave of the grimme Baròne
And fafte hee rode awaye.

And he rode eaft, and he rode west,

And did of all inquyre,

What thing it is all women crave,

And what they most desyre.

Some

Some told him riches, pompe, or state;
Some rayment fine and brighte;
Some told him mirthe; fome flatterye;
And fome a jollye knighte.

In letters all King Arthur wrote,
And feal'd them with his ringe :

But ftill his minde was helde in doubte,
Each tolde a different thinge,

As ruthfulle he rode over a more,
He faw a Ladye fette
Betweene an oke, and a greene holléye,

All clad in red fearlette.

Her nofe was crookt and turnd outwarde,
Her chin ftoode all awrye;

And where as fholde have been her mouthe,

Lo! there was fet her

eye:

Her haires, like ferpents, clung aboute
Her cheeks of deadlye hewe:
A worfe-form'd ladye than he was,
No man mote ever viewe.

To hail the King in feemelye forte
This ladye was fulle faine;
But King Arthùre all fore amaz'd,
No aunfwere made againe.

"What