<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=346127" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Tale of Gamelyn</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Fitt 1</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Lithes and listneth and harkeneth aright, <br>And ye shul here of a doughty knyght;<br>Sire John of Boundes was his name,<br>He coude of norture and of mochel game. <br>Thre sones the knyght had and with his body he wan,<br>The eldest was a moche schrewe and sone bygan.<br>His brether loved wel her fader and of hym were agast, <br>The eldest deserved his faders curs and had it atte last.<br>The good knight his fadere lyved so yore, <br>That deth was comen hym to and handled hym ful sore.<br>The good knyght cared sore sik ther he lay,<br>How his children shuld lyven after his day.<br>He had bene wide where but non husbonde he was,<br>Al the londe that he had it was purchas.<br>Fayn he wold it were dressed amonge hem alle,<br>That eche of hem had his parte as it myght falle.<br>Thoo sente he in to contrey after wise knyghtes<br>To helpen delen his londes and dressen hem to-rightes.<br>He sent hem word by letters thei shul hie blyve, <br>If thei wolle speke with hym whilst he was alyve. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Whan the knyghtes harden sik that he lay, <br>Had thei no rest neither nyght ne day,<br>Til thei come to hym ther he lay stille<br>On his dethes bedde to abide goddys wille.<br>Than seide the good knyght seke ther he lay,<br>'Lordes, I you warne for soth, without nay, <br>I may no lenger lyven here in this stounde; <br>For thorgh goddis wille deth droueth me to grounde.' <br>Ther nas noon of hem alle that herd hym aright,<br>That thei ne had routh of that ilk knyght, <br>And seide, 'Sir, for goddes love dismay you nought;<br>God may don boote of bale that is now ywrought.' <br>Than speke the good knyght sik ther he lay,<br>'Boote of bale God may sende I wote it is no nay; <br>But I beseche you knyghtes for the love of me,<br>Goth and dresseth my londes amonge my sones thre. <br>And for the love of God deleth not amyss, <br>And forgeteth not Gamelyne my yonge sone that is.<br>Taketh hede to that oon as wel as to that other; <br>Seelde ye seen eny hier helpen his brother.' </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thoo lete thei the knyght lyen that was not in hele,<br>And wenten into counselle his londes for to dele;<br>For to delen hem alle to on that was her thought.<br>And for Gamelyn was yongest he shuld have nought.<br>All the londe that ther was thei dalten it in two,<br>And lete Gamelyne the yonge without londe goo,<br>And eche of hem seide to other ful loude,<br>His bretheren myght yeve him londe whan he good cowde.<br>And whan thei had deled the londe at her wille,<br>They commen to the knyght ther he lay stille,<br>And tolde him anoon how thei had wrought;<br>And the knight ther he lay liked it right nought.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Than seide the knyght, 'Be Seint Martyne,<br>For al that ye han done yit is the londe myne;<br>For Goddis love, neighbours stondeth alle stille,<br>And I wil delen my londe after myn owne wille.<br>John, myne eldest sone shal have plowes fyve,<br>That was my faders heritage whan he was alyve;<br>And my myddelest sone fyve plowes of londe,<br>That I halpe forto gete with my right honde;<br>And al myn other purchace of londes and ledes<br>That I biquethe Gamelyne and alle my good stedes.<br>And I biseche you, good men that lawe conne of londe,<br>For Gamelynes love that my quest stonde.'<br>Thus dalt the knyght his londe by his day,<br>Right on his deth bed sik ther he lay;<br>And sone afterward he lay stoon stille,<br>And deide whan tyme come as it was Cristes wille.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Anoon as he was dede and under gras grave,<br>Sone the elder brother giled the yonge knave;<br>He toke into his honde his londe and his lede,<br>And Gamelyne him selven to clothe and to fede.<br>He clothed him and fedde him evell and eke wroth,<br>And lete his londes forfare and his houses bothe,<br>His parkes and his wodes and did no thing welle;<br>And sithen he it abought on his owne felle.<br>So longe was Gamelyne in his brothers halle,<br>For the strengest, of good will they douted hym alle;<br>Ther was noon therinne neither yonge ne olde,<br>That wolde wroth Gamelyne were he never so bolde.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Gamelyne stood on a day in his brotheres yerde,<br>And byganne with his hond to handel his berde;<br>He thought on his landes that lay unsowe,<br>And his fare okes that doune were ydrawe;<br>His parkes were broken and his deer reved;<br>Of alle his good stedes noon was hym byleved;<br>His hous were unhilled and ful evell dight;<br>Tho thought Gamelyne it went not aright.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Afterward come his brother walking thare,<br>And seide to Gamelyne, 'Is our mete yare?'<br>Tho wrathed him Gamelyne and swore by Goddys boke,<br>'Thow schalt go bake thi self I wil not be thi coke!'<br>'What? brother Gamelyne howe answerst thou nowe?<br>Thou spekest nevere such a worde as thou dost nowe.'<br>'By feithe,' seide Gamelyne 'now me thenketh nede;<br>Of al the harmes that I have I toke never yit hede.<br>My parkes bene broken and my dere reved,<br>Of myn armes ne my stedes nought is byleved;<br>Alle that my fader me byquathe al goth to shame,<br>And therfor have thou Goddes curs brother be thi name!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Than spake his brother that rape was and rees,<br>'Stond stille, gadlynge and holde thi pees;<br>Thou shalt be fayn to have thi mete and thi wede;<br>What spekest thow, gadelinge of londe or of lede?'<br>Than seide Gamelyne the child so yinge,<br>'Cristes curs mote he have that me clepeth gadelinge!<br>I am no wors gadeling ne no wors wight, <br>But born of a lady and gete of a knyght.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ne dorst he not to Gamelyn never a foot goo, <br>But cleped to hym his men and seide to hem thoo, <br>'Goth and beteth this boye and reveth hym his witte, <br>And lat him lerne another tyme to answere me bette.' <br>Than seide the childe yonge Gamelyne, <br>'Cristes curs mote thou have brother art thou myne! <br>And if I shal algates be beten anoon, <br>Cristes curs mote thou have but thou be that oon!'<br>And anon his brother in that grete hete<br>Made his men to fette staves Gamelyn to bete.<br>Whan every of hem had a staf ynomen, <br>Gamelyn was werre whan he segh hem comen;<br>Whan Gamelyne segh hem comen he loked overall,<br>And was ware of a pestel stode under the wall; <br>Gamelyn was light and thider gan he lepe, <br>And droof alle his brotheres men right sone on an hepe <br>And loked as a wilde lyon and leide on good wone; <br>And whan his brother segh that he byganne to gon; <br>He fley up into a loft and shette the door fast; <br>Thus Gamelyn with his pestel made hem al agast. <br>Some for Gamelyns love and some for eye, <br>Alle they droughen hem to halves whan he gan to pleye.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'What now!' seyde Gamelyne 'evel mot ye the! <br>Wil ye bygynne contecte and so sone flee?' <br>Gamelyn sought his brother whider he was flowe, <br>And seghe where he loked out a wyndowe. <br>'Brother,' sayde Gamelyne 'com a litel nere, <br>And I wil teche thee a play at the bokelere.'<br>His brother him answerde and seide by Seint Richere, <br>'The while that pestel is in thine honde I wil come no nere;<br>Brother, I will make thi pees I swer by Cristes oore; <br>Cast away the pestel and wrethe the no more.'<br>'I most nede,' seide Gamelyn, 'wreth me at onys, <br>For thou wold make thi men to breke my bonys, <br>Ne had I hadde mayn and myght in myn armes, <br>To han hem fro me thei wold have done me harmes.' <br>'Gamelyn,' seide his brother, 'be thou not wroth, <br>For to sene the han harme me were right loth; <br>I ne did it not, brother, but for a fondinge, <br>For to loken wher thou art stronge and art so yenge.'<br>'Come adoune than to me and graunt me my bone <br>Of oon thing I wil the axe and we shal saught sone.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Doune than come his brother that fikel was and felle,<br>And was swith sore afeerd of the pestelle.<br>He seide, 'Brother Gamelyn axe me thi bone,<br>And loke thou me blame but I it graunte sone.'<br>Than seide Gamelyn 'Brother, iwys,<br>And we shul be at one thou most graunte me this:<br>Alle that my fader me byquath whilst he was alyve,<br>Thow most do me it have if we shul not strive.' <br>'That shalt thou have, Gamelyn I swere be Cristes oore!<br>Al that thi fadere the byquathe, though thou wolde have more; <br>Thy londe that lith ley wel it shal be sawe, <br>And thine houses reised up that bene leide ful lawe.' <br>Thus seide the knyght to Gamelyn with mouthe, <br>And thought on falsnes as he wel couthe.<br>The knyght thought on tresoun and Gamelyn on noon, <br>And wente and kissed his brother and whan thei were at oon<br>Alas, yonge Gamelyne no thinge he ne wist <br>With such false tresoun his brother him kist!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Fitt 2</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Lytheneth, and listeneth, and holdeth your tonge, <br>And ye shul here talking of Gamelyn the yonge. <br>Ther was there bisiden cride a wrastelinge, <br>And therfore ther was sette a ramme and a ringe; <br>And Gamelyn was in wille to wende therto, <br>Forto preven his myght what he coude doo.<br>'Brothere,' seide Gamelyn, 'by Seint Richere,<br>Thow most lene me tonyght a litel coursere <br>That is fresshe for the spore on forto ride; <br>I moste on an erande a litel here beside.' <br>'By god!' seide his brothere 'of stedes in my stalle <br>Goo and chese the the best spare noon of hem alle <br>Of stedes and of coursers that stoden hem byside; <br>And telle me, good brother, whider thou wilt ride.' <br>'Here beside, brother is cried a wrastelinge, <br>And therfore shal be sette a ram and a ringe; <br>Moche worschip it were brother to us alle, <br>Might I the ram and the ringe bringe home to this halle.' <br>A stede ther was sadeled smertly and skete; <br>Gamelyn did a peire spores fast on his fete. <br>He sette his foote in the stirop the stede he bistrode, <br>And towardes the wrastelinge the yonge childe rode.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Whan Gamelyn the yonge was riden out atte gate,<br>The fals knyght his brother loked yit after thate,<br>And bysought Jesu Crist that is hevene kinge,<br>He myghte breke his necke in the wrestelinge.<br>As sone as Gamelyn come ther the place was,<br>He lighte doune of his stede and stood on the gras,<br>And ther he herde a frankeleyn 'weiloway' singe,<br>And bygonne bitterly his hondes forto wringe.<br>'Good man,' seide Gamelyn, 'whi mast thou this fare?<br>Is ther no man that may you helpen out of care?'<br>'Allas!' seide this frankeleyn, 'that ever was I bore!<br>For twey stalworth sones I wene that I have lore;<br>A champion is in the place that hath wrought me sorowe,<br>For he hath sclayn my two sones but if God hem borowe.<br>I will yeve ten pound by Jesu Christ! and more,<br>With the nones I fonde a man wolde handel hym sore.'<br>'Good man,' seide Gamelyn, 'wilt thou wele doon,<br>Holde my hors the whiles my man drowe of my shoon, <br>And helpe my man to kepe my clothes and my stede, <br>And I wil to place gon to loke if I may spede.' <br>'By God!' seide the frankleyn, 'it shal be doon; <br>I wil myself be thi man to drowe of thi shoon,<br>And wende thou into place, Jesu Crist the spede, <br>And drede not of thi clothes ne of thi good stede.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Barefoot and ungirt Gamelyn inne came, <br>Alle that were in the place hede of him nam, <br>Howe he durst aventure him to doon his myght <br>That was so doghty a champion in wrasteling and in fight. <br>Up stert the champioun rapely anon, <br>And toward yonge Gamelyn byganne to gon, <br>And seide, 'Who is thi fadere and who is thi sire? <br>For sothe thou art a grete fool that thou come hire!'<br>Gamelyn answerde the champioun tho, <br>'Thowe knewe wel my fadere while he myght goo, <br>The whiles he was alyve, by seynt Martyn! <br>Sir John of Boundes was his name, and I am Gamelyne.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Felawe,' sayde the champion, 'so mot I thrive, <br>I knewe wel thi fadere the whiles he was alyve; <br>And thi silf, Gamelyn, I wil that thou it here, <br>While thou were a yonge boy a moche shrewe thou were.'<br>Than seide Gamelyn and swore by Cristes ore, <br>'Now I am older wexe thou shalt finde me a more!' <br>'By God!' seide the champion 'welcome mote thou be! <br>Come thow onys in myn honde thou shalt nevere the.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">It was wel within the nyght and the mone shone, <br>Whan Gamelyn and the champioun togider gon gone. <br>The champion cast turnes to Gamelyne that was prest, <br>And Gamelyn stode and bad hym doon his best. <br>Than seide Gamelyn to the champioun, <br>'Thowe art fast aboute to bringe me adoun; <br>Now I have proved mony tornes of thine,<br>Thow most,' he seide, 'oon or two of myne.'<br>Gamelyn to the champioun yede smertely anoon,<br>Of all the turnes that he couthe he shewed him but oon, <br>And cast him on the lift side that thre ribbes to-brake, <br>And therto his owne arme that yaf a grete crake. <br>Than seide Gamelyn smertly anon, <br>'Shal it bi hold for a cast or ellis for non?' <br>'By God!' seide the champion, 'whedere it be, <br>He that cometh ones in thi honde shal he never the!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Than seide the frankeleyn that had the sones there, <br>'Blessed be thou, Gamelyn, that ever thou bore were!' <br>The frankleyn seide to the champioun on hym stode hym noon eye, <br>'This is yonge Gamelyne that taught the this pleye.' <br>Agein answerd the champioun that liketh no thing wel, <br>'He is alther maister and his pley is right felle; <br>Sithen I wrasteled first it is goon yore,<br>But I was nevere in my lif handeled so sore.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Gamelyn stode in the place anon without serk,<br>And seide, 'Yif ther be moo lat hem come to werk; <br>The champion that pyned him to worch sore, <br>It semeth by his countenance that he wil no more.' <br>Gamelyn in the place stode stille as stone, <br>For to abide wrastelinge but ther come none; <br>Ther was noon with Gamelyn that wold wrastel more, <br>For he handeled the champioun so wonderly sore.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Two gentile men that yemed the place, <br>Come to Gamelyn -- God yeve him goode grace! -- <br>And seide to him, 'Do on thi hosen and thi shoon,<br>For soth at this tyme this fare is doon.' <br>And than seide Gamelyn, 'So mot I wel fare, <br>I have not yete halvendele sold my ware.' <br>Thoo seide the champioun, 'So broke I my swere, <br>He is a fool that therof bieth thou selleth it so dere.' <br>Tho seide the frankeleyne that was in moche care, <br>'Felawe,' he saide 'whi lackest thou this ware? <br>By seynt Jame of Gales that mony man hath sought, <br>Yit is it to good chepe that thou hast bought.'<br>Thoo that wardeynes were of that wrastelinge <br>Come and brought Gamelyn the ramme and the rynge, <br>And Gamelyn bithought him it was a faire thinge, <br>And wente with moche joye home in the mornynge.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">His brother see wher he came with the grete route, <br>And bad shitt the gate and holde hym withoute. <br>The porter of his lord was soor agaast,<br>And stert anoon to the gate and lokked it fast.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Fitt 3</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now lithenes and listneth both yonge and olde, <br>And ye schul here gamen of Gamelyn the bolde.<br>Gamelyn come to the gate forto have come inne, <br>And it was shette faste with a stronge pynne; <br>Than seide Gamelyn, 'Porter, undo the yate, <br>For good menys sones stonden ther ate.' <br>Than answerd the porter and swore by Goddys berd,<br>'Thow ne shalt, Gamelyne, come into this yerde.' <br>'Thow lixt,' seide Gamelyne 'so broke I my chyne!'<br>He smote the wikett with his foote and breke awaie the pyne.<br>The porter seie thoo it myght no better be, <br>He sette foote on erth and bygan to flee. <br>'By my feye,' seide Gamelyn 'that travaile is ylore, <br>For I am of fote as light as thou if thou haddest it swore.' 1<br>Gamelyn overtoke the porter and his tene wrake, <br>And girt him in the nek that the boon to-brake, <br>And toke hym by that oon arme and threwe hym in a welle, <br>Seven fadme it was depe as I have herde telle.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Whan Gamelyn the yonge thus had plaied his playe, <br>Alle that in the yerde were drowen hem awaye; <br>Thei dredden him ful sore for werk that he wrought, <br>And for the faire company that he thider brought.<br>Gamelyn yede to the gate and lete it up wide; <br>He lete inne alle that gone wolde or ride, <br>And seide, 'Ye be welcome without eny greve,<br>For we wil be maisters here and axe no man leve. <br>Yusterday I lefte,' seide yonge Gamelyne, <br>'In my brothers seler fyve tonne of wyne; <br>I wil not this company partyn atwynne, <br>And ye wil done after me while sope is therinne; <br>And if my brother gruche or make foule chere, <br>Either for spence of mete and drink that we spende here, <br>I am oure catour and bere oure alther purs, <br>He shal have for his grucchinge Seint Maries curs. <br>My brother is a nigon, I swere be Cristes oore, <br>And we wil spende largely that he hath spared yore; <br>And who that make grucchinge that we here dwelle, <br>He shal to the porter into the drowe-welle.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Seven daies and seven nyghtes Gamelyn helde his feest, <br>With moche solace was ther noon cheest; <br>In a litel torret his brother lay steke, <br>And see hem waast his good and dorst no worde speke. <br>Erly on a mornynge on the eight day, <br>The gestes come to Gamelyn and wolde gone her way. <br>'Lordes,' seide Gamelyn, 'will ye so hie? <br>Al the wyne is not yit dronke so brouke I myn ye.'<br>Gamelyn in his herte was ful woo, <br>Whan his gestes toke her leve fro hym for to go; <br>He wolde thei had dwelled lenger and thei seide nay, <br>But bytaught Gamelyn, 'God and good day.'<br>Thus made Gamelyn his feest and brought wel to ende, <br>And after his gestes toke leve to wende.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Fitt 4</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Lithen and listen and holde your tunge, <br>And ye shal here game of Gamelyn the yonge; <br>Harkeneth, lordingges and listeneth aright, <br>Whan alle gestis were goon how Gamelyn was dight. <br>Alle the while that Gamelyn heeld his mangerye, <br>His brothere thought on hym be wroke with his trecherye.<br>Whan Gamylyns gestes were riden and goon, <br>Gamelyn stood anon allone frend had he noon; <br>Tho aftere felle sone within a litel stounde, <br>Gamelyn was taken and ful hard ybounde.<br>Forth come the fals knyght out of the solere, <br>To Gamelyn his brother he yede ful nere, <br>And saide to Gamelyn, 'Who made the so bold <br>For to stroien the stoor of myn household?' <br>'Brother,' seide Gamelyn, 'wreth the right nought, <br>For it is many day gon sith it was bought; <br>For, brother, thou hast had by Seint Richere, <br>Of fiftene plowes of londe this sixtene yere, <br>And of alle the beestes thou hast forth bredde, <br>That my fader me byquath on his dethes bedde;<br>Of al this sixtene yere I yeve the the prowe, <br>For the mete and the drink that we han spended nowe.' <br>Than seide the fals knyght (evel mote he thee!) <br>'Harken, brothere Gamelyn what I wil yeve the; <br>For of my body, brother here geten have I none,<br>I wil make the myn here I swere by Seint John.'<br>'Par fay!' seide Gamelyn 'and if it so be,<br>And thou thenk as thou seist God yeelde it the!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Nothinge wiste Gamelyn of his brother gile; <br>Therfore he hym bygiled in a litel while. <br>'Gamelyn,' seyde he, 'oon thing I the telle; <br>Thoo thou threwe my porter in the drowe-welle, <br>I swore in that wrethe and in that grete moote, <br>That thou shuldest be bounde bothe honde and fote; <br>This most be fulfilled my men to dote, <br>For to holden myn avowe as I the bihote.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Brother,' seide Gamelyn, 'as mote I thee!<br>Thou shalt not be forswore for the love of me.' <br>Tho maden thei Gamelyn to sitte and not stonde, <br>To thei had hym bounde both fote and honde. <br>The fals knyght his brother of Gamelyn was agast, <br>And sente efter fetters to fetter hym fast. <br>His brother made lesingges on him ther he stode, <br>And tolde hem that commen inne that Gamelyn was wode. <br>Gamelyn stode to a post bounden in the halle, <br>Thoo that commen inne loked on hym alle. <br>Ever stode Gamelyn even upright! <br>But mete and drink had he noon neither day ne nyght. <br>Than seide Gamelyn, 'Brother, be myn hals, <br>Now have I aspied thou art a party fals; <br>Had I wist the tresoun that thou hast yfounde, <br>I wold have yeve strokes or I had be bounde!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Gamelyn stode bounde stille as eny stone;<br>Two daies and two nyghtes mete had he none.<br>Than seide Gamelyn that stood ybounde stronge,<br>'Adam Spencere me thenketh I faste to longe;<br>Adam Spencere now I biseche the,<br>For the moche love my fadere loved the,<br>If thou may come to the keys lese me out of bonde,<br>And I wil part with the of my free londe.' <br>Than seide Adam that was the spencere, <br>'I have served thi brother this sixtene yere, <br>Yif I lete the gone out of his boure, <br>He wold saye afterwardes I were a traitour.' <br>'Adam,' seide Gamelyn, 'so brouke I myn hals! <br>Thow schalt finde my brother at the last fals; <br>Therfore brother Adam lose me out of bondes, <br>And I wil parte with the of my free londes.'<br>'Up such forward,' seide Adam, 'ywis, <br>I wil do therto al that in me is.' <br>'Adam,' seide Gamelyn 'as mote I the,<br>I wil holde the covenaunt and thou wil me.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Anoon as Adams lord to bed was goon, <br>Adam toke the kayes and lete Gamelyn out anoon; <br>He unlocked Gamelyn both hondes and fete, <br>In hope of avauncement that he hym byhete. <br>Than seide Gamelyn, 'Thonked be Goddis sonde! <br>Nowe I am lose both fote and honde; <br>Had I nowe eten and dronken aright, <br>Ther is noon in this hous shuld bynde me this nyght.' <br>Adam toke Gamelyn as stille as eny stone, <br>And ladde him into the spence raply anon, <br>And sette him to sopere right in a privey styde, <br>He bad him do gladly and so he dide.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Anoon as Gamelyn had eten wel and fyne, <br>And therto y-dronken wel of the rede wyne, <br>'Adam,' seide Gamelyn, 'what is nowe thi rede? <br>Or I go to my brother and gerd of his heed?' <br>'Gamelyn,' seide Adam, 'it shal not be so.<br>I can teche the a rede that is worth the twoo.<br>I wote wel for soth that this is no nay, <br>We shul have a mangerye right on Sonday; <br>Abbotes and priours mony here shul be, <br>And other men of holy chirch as I telle the; <br>Thou shal stonde up by the post as thou were bounde fast,<br>And I shal leve hem unloke that away thou may hem cast. <br>Whan that thei han eten and wasshen her handes, <br>Thow shalt biseche hem alle to bringe the oute of bondes; <br>And if thei willen borowe the that were good game, <br>Than were thou out of prisoun and out of blame; <br>And if ecche of hem saye to us nay, <br>I shal do another I swere by this day! <br>Thow shalt have a good staf and I wil have another, <br>And Cristes curs haf that on that failleth that other!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Ye for God,' seide Gamelyn 'I say it for me, <br>If I faille on my side evel mot I thee! <br>If we shul algate assoile hem of her synne,<br>Warne me, brother Adam, whan we shul bygynne.' <br>'Gamelyn,' seid Adam, 'by Seinte Charité, <br>I wil warne the biforn whan it shal be; <br>Whan I winke on the loke for to gone, <br>And caste away thi fetters and come to me anone.' <br>'Adam,' seide Gamelyn, 'blessed be thi bonys! <br>That is a good counseill yeven for the nonys; <br>Yif thei warne the me to bringe out of bendes, <br>I wil sette good strokes right on her lendes.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Whan the Sonday was comen and folk to the feest,<br>Faire thei were welcomed both leest and mest;<br>And ever as thei at the haldore come inne,<br>They casten her yen on yonge Gamelyn.<br>The fals knyght his brother ful of trecherye,<br>Al the gestes that ther were at the mangerye,<br>Of Gamelyn his brother he tolde hem with mouthe<br>Al the harme and the shame that he telle couthe.<br>Whan they were yserved of messes two or thre,<br>Than seide Gamelyn, 'How serve ye me?<br>It is not wel served by God that alle made!<br>That I sitte fastinge and other men make glade.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The fals knyght his brother ther as he stode,<br>Told to all the gestes that Gamelyn was wode;<br>And Gamelyn stode stille and answerde nought,<br>But Adames wordes he helde in his thought.<br>Thoo Gamelyn gan speke doolfully withalle<br>To the grete lordes that seton in the halle:<br>'Lordes,' he seide 'for Cristes passioun,<br>Helpe to bringe Gamelyn out of prisoun.'<br>Than seide an abbot, sorowe on his cheke,<br>'He shal have Cristes curs and Seinte Maries eke,<br>That the out of prison beggeth or borowe,<br>And ever worth him wel that doth the moche sorowe.'<br>After that abbot than speke another,<br>'I wold thine hede were of though thou were my brother!<br>Alle that the borowe foule mot hem falle!'<br>Thus thei seiden alle that were in the halle.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Than seide a priour, evel mote he threve!<br>'It is grete sorwe and care boy that thou art alyve.'<br>'Ow!' seide Gamelyn, 'so brouke I my bone!<br>Now have I spied that frendes have I none<br>Cursed mote he worth both flesshe and blood,<br>That ever doth priour or abbot eny good!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Adam the spencere took up the clothe, <br>And loked on Gamelyn and segh that he was wrothe; <br>Adam on the pantry litel he thought, <br>And two good staves to the halle door he brought, <br>Adam loked on Gamelyn and he was warre anoon, <br>And cast away the fetters and bygan to goon; <br>Whan he come to Adam he took that on staf, <br>And bygan to worch and good strokes yaf. <br>Gamelyn come into the halle and the spencer bothe, <br>And loked hem aboute as thei hadden be wrothe; <br>Gamelyn spreyeth holy watere with an oken spire,<br>That some that stode upright felle in the fire. <br>Ther was no lewe man that in the halle stode, <br>That wolde do Gamelyn enything but goode, <br>But stoden bisides and lete hem both wirche, <br>For thei had no rewthe of men of holy chirche; <br>Abbot or priour, monk or chanoun, <br>That Gamelyn overtoke anoon they yeden doun <br>Ther was noon of alle that with his staf mette, <br>That he ne made hem overthrowe to quyte hem his dette.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Gamelyn,' seide Adam, 'for Seinte Charité, <br>Pay good lyveré for the love of me, <br>And I wil kepe the door so ever here I masse! <br>Er they bene assoilled ther shal non passe.' <br>'Doute the not,' seide Gamelyn 'whil we ben ifere, <br>Kepe thow wel the door and I wil wirche here; <br>Bystere the, good Adam, and lete none fle, <br>And we shul telle largely how mony that ther be.'<br>'Gamelyn,' seide Adam, 'do hem but goode; <br>Thei bene men of holy churche drowe of hem no blode<br>Save wel the crownes and do hem no harmes, <br>But breke both her legges and sithen her armes.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thus Gamelyn and Adam wroughte ryght faste, <br>And pleide with the monkes and made hem agaste. <br>Thidere thei come ridinge joly with swaynes, <br>And home ayein thei were ladde in cartes and waynes. <br>Tho thei hadden al ydo than seide a grey frere, <br>'Allas! sire abbot what did we nowe here? <br>Whan that we comen hidere it was a colde rede, <br>Us had be bet at home with water and breed.'<br>While Gamelyn made orders of monke and frere, <br>Evere stood his brother and made foule chere; <br>Gamelyn up with his staf that he wel knewe, <br>And girt him in the nek that he overthrewe; <br>A litel above the girdel the rigge-boon he barst; <br>And sette him in the fetters theras he sat arst. <br>'Sitte ther, brother,' seide Gamelyn, <br>'For to colen thi body as I did myn.' <br>As swith as thei had wroken hem on her foon,<br>Thei asked water and wasshen anon, <br>What some for her love and some for her awe, <br>Alle the servantes served hem on the beste lawe.<br>The sherreve was thennes but fyve myle, <br>And alle was tolde him in a lytel while, <br>Howe Gamelyn and Adam had ydo a sorye rees, <br>Boundon and wounded men ayeinst the kingges pees; <br>Tho bygan sone strif for to wake, <br>And the shereff about Gamelyn forto take.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Fitt 5</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now lithen and listen so God geve you good fyne! <br>And ye shul here good game of yonge Gamelyne. <br>Four and twenty yonge men that helde hem ful bolde, <br>Come to the shiref and seide that thei wolde <br>Gamelyn and Adam fette by her fay; <br>The sheref gave hem leve soth for to say; <br>Thei hiden fast wold thei not lynne, <br>To thei come to the gate there Gamelyn was inne. <br>They knocked on the gate the porter was nyghe,<br>And loked out atte an hool as man that was scleghe. <br>The porter hadde bihold hem a litel while, <br>He loved wel Gamelyn and was dradde of gyle, <br>And lete the wikett stonde ful stille, <br>And asked hem without what was her wille.<br>For all the grete company speke but oon, <br>'Undo the gate, porter and lat us in goon.' <br>Than seide the porter 'So brouke I my chyn, <br>Ye shul saie youre erand er ye come inne.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Sey to Gamelyn and Adam if theire wil be, <br>We wil speke with hem two wordes or thre.' <br>'Felawe,' seide the porter 'stonde ther stille, <br>And I wil wende to Gamelyn to wete his wille.' <br>Inne went the porter to Gamelyn anoon, <br>And saide, 'Sir, I warne you here ben comen youre foon; <br>The shireves men bene at the gate, <br>Forto take you both ye shul not scape.' <br>'Porter,' seide Gamelyn, 'so mote I the! <br>I wil alowe thi wordes whan I my tyme se. <br>Go ageyn to the gate and dwelle with hem a while, <br>And thou shalt se right sone porter, a gile.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Adam,' seide Gamelyn, 'hast the to goon; <br>We han foo men mony and frendes never oon; <br>It bene the shireves men that hider bene comen, <br>Thei ben swore togidere that we shal be nomen.' <br>'Gamelyn,' seide Adam, 'hye the right blyve, <br>And if I faile the this day evel mot I thrive! <br>And we shul so welcome the shyreves men, <br>That some of hem shal make her beddes in the fenne.' <br>At a postern gate Gamelyn out went, <br>And a good cartstaf in his hondes hent; <br>Adam hent sone another grete staff <br>For to helpen Gamelyne and good strokes yaf. <br>Adam felled tweyn and Gamelyn thre, <br>The other sette fete on erthe and bygan to flee. <br>'What' seide Adam, 'so evere here I masse! <br>I have right good wyne drynk er ye passe!' <br>'Nay, by God!' seide thei, 'thi drink is not goode, <br>It wolde make a mannys brayn to lyen on his hode.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Gamelyn stode stille and loked hym aboute, <br>And seide 'The shyref cometh with a grete route.' <br>'Adam,' seyde Gamelyn 'what bene now thi redes? <br>Here cometh the sheref and wil have our hedes.' <br>Adam seide to Gamelyn 'My rede is now this, <br>Abide we no lenger lest we fare amys: <br>I rede we to wode gon er we be founde, <br>Better is ther louse than in the toune bounde.' <br>Adam toke by the honde yonge Gamelyn; <br>And every of hem dronk a draught of wyn, <br>And after token her cours and wenten her way; <br>Tho fonde the scherreve nyst but non aye. <br>The shirrive light doune and went into halle, <br>And fonde the lord fetred faste withalle. <br>The shirreve unfetred hym right sone anoon, <br>And sente aftere a leche to hele his rigge boon.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Lat we now the fals knyght lye in hys care,<br>And talke we of Gamelyn and of his fare.<br>Gamelyn into the wode stalked stille,<br>And Adam Spensere liked right ille;<br>Adam swore to Gamelyn, 'By Seint Richere,<br>Now I see it is mery to be a spencere,<br>Yit lever me were kayes to bere, <br>Than walken in this wilde wode my clothes to tere.' <br>'Adam,' seide Gamelyn, 'dismay the right nought; <br>Mony good mannys child in care is brought.' <br>As thei stode talkinge bothen in fere, <br>Adam herd talking of men and right nyghe hem thei were.<br>Tho Gamelyn under wode loked aright, <br>Sevene score of yonge men he seye wel ydight; <br>Alle satte at the mete compas aboute. <br>'Adam,' seide Gamelyn, 'now have I no doute, <br>Aftere bale cometh bote thorgh Goddis myght; <br>Me think of mete and drynk I have a sight.' <br>Adam loked thoo under wode bough, <br>And whan he segh mete was glad ynogh; <br>For he hoped to God to have his dele, <br>And he was sore alonged after a mele.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">As he seide that worde the mayster outlawe<br>Saugh Adam and Gamelyn under the wode shawe.<br>'Yonge men,' seide the maistere 'by the good Rode,<br>I am ware of gestes God send us goode;<br>Yond ben twoo yonge men wel ydight,<br>And parenture ther ben mo whoso loked right.<br>Ariseth up, yonge men and fette hem to me;<br>It is good that we weten what men thei be.'<br>Up ther sterten sevene from the dynere,<br>And metten with Gamelyn and Adam Spencere.<br>Whan thei were nyghe hem than seide that oon,<br>'Yeeldeth up, yonge men your bowes and your floon.'<br>Than seide Gamelyn that yong was of elde,<br>'Moche sorwe mote thei have that to you hem yelde!<br>I curs noon other but right mysilve;<br>Thoo ye fette to you fyve than be ye twelve!'<br>Whan they harde by his word that myght was in his arme,<br>Ther was noon of hem that wolde do hym harme,<br>But seide to Gamelyn myldely and stille,<br>'Cometh afore our maister and seith to hym your wille.'<br>'Yong men,' seide Gamelyn, 'be your lewté,<br>What man is youre maister that ye with be?'<br>Alle thei answerd without lesing, <br>'Our maister is crowned of outlawe king.' <br>'Adam,' seide Gamelyn, 'go we in Cristes name;<br>He may neither mete ne drink warne us for shame.<br>If that he be hende and come of gentil blood,<br>He wil yeve us mete and drink and do us som gode.'<br>'By Seint Jame!' seide Adam, 'what harme that I gete,<br>I wil aventure me that I had mete.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Gamelyn and Adam went forth in fere,<br>And thei grette the maister that thei fond there.<br>Than seide the maister king of outlawes,<br>'What seche ye, yonge men, under the wode shawes?'<br>Gamelyn answerde the king with his croune,<br>'He most nedes walk in feeld that may not in toune.<br>Sire, we walk not here no harme to doo,<br>But yif we mete a deer to shete therto,<br>As men that bene hungry and mow no mete fynde, <br>And bene harde bystad under wode lynde.' <br>Of Gamelyns wordes the maister had reuthe, <br>And seide, 'Ye shul have ynow have God my trouth!' <br>He bad hem sitte doun for to take rest; <br>And bad hem ete and drink and that of the best. <br>As they eten and dronken wel and fyne, <br>Than seide on to another, 'This is Gamelyne.'<br>Tho was the maistere outlaw into counseile nome,<br>And tolde howe it was Gamelyn that thider was come. <br>Anon as he herd how it was byfalle, <br>He made him maister under hym over hem alle. <br>Withinne the thridde weke hym come tydinge, <br>To the maistere outlawe that was her kinge, <br>That he shuld come home his pees was made; <br>And of that good tydinge he was ful glade. <br>Thoo seide he to his yonge men soth forto telle, <br>'Me bene comen tydinges I may no lenger dwelle.' <br>Tho was Gamelyn anoon withoute taryinge, <br>Made maister outlawe and crowned her kinge.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Whan Gamelyn was crowned king of outlawes, <br>And walked had a while under the wode shawes, <br>The fals knyght his brother was sherif and sire, <br>And lete his brother endite for hate and for ire. <br>Thoo were his boond men sory and no thing glade, <br>Whan Gamelyn her lord wolfeshede was made;<br>And sente out of his men wher thei might hym fynde, <br>For to go seke Gamelyne under the wode lynde, <br>To telle hym tydinge the wynde was wente, <br>And al his good reved and al his men shente. <br>Whan thei had hym founden on knees thei hem setten, <br>And adoune with here hodes and her lord gretten;<br>'Sire, wreth you not for the good Rode,<br>For we han brought you tyddyngges but thei be not gode. <br>Now is thi brother sherreve and hath the bayly, <br>And hath endited the and wolfesheed doth the crye.' <br>'Allas!' seide Gamelyn, 'that ever I was so sclak <br>That I ne had broke his nek whan I his rigge brak! <br>Goth, greteth wel myn husbondes and wif,<br>I wil be at the nexte shyre have God my lif!'<br>Gamelyn come redy to the nexte shire,<br>And ther was his brother both lord and sire. <br>Gamelyn boldely come into the mote halle, <br>And putte adoun his hode amonge tho lordes alle; <br>'God save you, lordinggs that here be! <br>But broke bak sherreve evel mote thou thee! <br>Whi hast thou don me that shame and vilenye, <br>For to lat endite me and wolfeshede do me crye?' <br>Thoo thoghte the fals knyght forto bene awreke, <br>And lette Gamelyn most he no thinge speke;<br>Might ther be no grace but Gamelyn atte last <br>Was cast in prison and fettred faste.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Gamelyn hath a brothere that highte Sir Ote, <br>Als good an knyght and hende as might gon on foote. <br>Anoon yede a massager to that good knyght <br>And tolde him altogidere how Gamelyn was dight. <br>Anoon whan Sire Ote herd howe Gamelyn was dight, <br>He was right sory and no thing light, <br>And lete sadel a stede and the way name, <br>And to his tweyne bretheren right sone he came. <br>'Sire,' seide Sire Ote to the sherreve thoo, <br>'We bene but three bretheren shul we never be mo; <br>And thou hast prisoned the best of us alle; <br>Such another brother evel mote hym byfalle!' <br>'Sire Ote,' seide the fals knyght, 'lat be thi cors; <br>By God, for thi wordes he shal fare the wors; <br>To the kingges prisoun he is ynome, <br>And ther he shal abide to the justice come.' <br>'Par de!' seide Sir Ote, 'better it shal be;<br>I bid hym to maynprise that thou graunte me <br>To the next sitting of delyveraunce, <br>And lat than Gamelyn stonde to his chaunce.' <br>'Brother, in such a forward I take him to the; <br>And by thine fader soule that the bigate and me, <br>But he be redy whan the justice sitte, <br>Thou shalt bere the juggement for al thi grete witte.' <br>'I graunte wel,' seide Sir Ote, 'that it so be. <br>Lat delyver him anoon and take hym to me.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Tho was Gamelyn delyvered to Sire Ote, his brother; <br>And that nyght dwelled the oon with the other. <br>On the morowe seide Gamelyn to Sire Ote the hende, <br>'Brother,' he seide, 'I mote forsoth from you wende <br>To loke howe my yonge men leden her liff, <br>Whedere thei lyven in joie or ellis in striff.' <br>'By God' seyde Sire Ote, 'that is a colde rede, <br>Nowe I se that alle the carke schal fal on my hede; <br>For whan the justice sitte and thou be not yfounde, <br>I shal anoon be take and in thi stede ibounde.' <br>'Brother,' seide Gamelyn, 'dismay you nought, <br>For by saint Jame in Gales that mony men hath sought,<br>Yif that God almyghty holde my lif and witte, <br>I wil be redy whan the justice sitte.' <br>Than seide Sir Ote to Gamelyn, 'God shilde the fro shame; <br>Come whan thou seest tyme and bringe us out of blame.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Fitt 6</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Litheneth, and listeneth and holde you stille,<br>And ye shul here how Gamelyn had al his wille.<br>Gamelyn went under the wode-ris,<br>And fonde ther pleying yenge men of pris.<br>Tho was yonge Gamelyn right glad ynoughe,<br>Whan he fonde his men under wode boughe.<br>Gamelyn and his men talkeden in fere,<br>And thei hadde good game her maister to here;<br>His men tolde him of aventures that they had founde, <br>And Gamelyn tolde hem agein howe he was fast bounde. <br>While Gamelyn was outlawe had he no cors; <br>There was no man that for him ferde the wors, <br>But abbots and priours, monk and chanoun; <br>On hem left he nought whan he myghte hem nome.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">While Gamelyn and his men made merthes ryve,<br>The fals knyght his brother evel mot he thryve! <br>For he was fast aboute both day and other, <br>For to hiren the quest to hongen his brother. <br>Gamelyn stode on a day and byheeld <br>The wodes and the shawes and the wild feeld, <br>He thoughte on his brothere how he hym byhette <br>That he wolde be redy whan the justice sette; <br>He thought wel he wold without delay, <br>Come tofore the justice to kepen his day, <br>And saide to his yonge men, 'Dighteth you yare, <br>For whan the justice sitte we most be thare, <br>For I am under borowe til that I come, <br>And my brother for me to prison shal be nome.'<br>'By Seint Jame!' seide his yonge men, 'and thou rede therto,<br>Ordeyn how it shal be and it shal be do.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">While Gamelyn was comyng ther the justice satte, <br>The fals knyght his brother forgate he not that, <br>To hire the men of the quest to hangen his brother; <br>Thoughe thei had not that oon thei wolde have that other <br>Tho come Gamelyn from under the wode-ris, <br>And brought with hym yonge men of pris<br>'I see wel,' seide Gamelyn, 'the justice is sette; <br>Go aforn, Adam, and loke how it spette.' <br>Adam went into the halle and loked al aboute, <br>He segh there stonde lordes grete and stoute, <br>And Sir Ote his brother fetred ful fast; <br>Thoo went Adam out of halle as he were agast. <br>Adam seide to Gamelyn and to his felawes alle, <br>'Sir Ote stont fetered in the mote halle.' <br>'Yonge men,' seide Gamelyn, 'this ye heeren alle: <br>Sir Ote stont fetered in the mote halle. <br>If God geve us grace well forto doo, <br>He shal it abigge that it broughte therto.'<br>Than seide Adam that lockes had hore, <br>'Cristes curs mote he have that hym bonde so sore! <br>And thou wilt, Gamelyn, do after my rede,<br>Ther is noon in the halle shal bere awey his hede.' <br>'Adam,' seide Gamelyn, 'we wil not do soo, <br>We wil slee the giltif and lat the other go. <br>I wil into the halle and with the justice speke; <br>Of hem that bene giltif I wil ben awreke. <br>Lat no skape at the door take, yonge men, yeme; <br>For I wil be justice this day domes to deme. <br>God spede me this day at my newe werk! <br>Adam, com with me for thou shalt be my clerk.'<br>His men answereden hym and bad don his best, <br>'And if thou to us have nede thou shalt finde us prest; <br>We wil stonde with the while that we may dure; <br>And but we worchen manly pay us none hure.' <br>'Yonge men,' seid Gamelyn, 'so mot I wel the! <br>A trusty maister ye shal fynde me.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Right there the justice satte in the halle, <br>Inne went Gamelyn amonges hem alle. <br>Gamelyn lete unfetter his brother out of bende. <br>Than seide Sire Ote his brother that was hende, <br>'Thow haddest almost, Gamelyn, dwelled to longe, <br>For the quest is out on me that I shulde honge.' <br>'Brother,' seide Gamelyn, 'so God yeve me good rest! <br>This day shul thei be honged that ben on the quest; <br>And the justice both that is the juge man, <br>And the sherreve also thorgh hym it bigan. <br>Than seide Gamelyn to the justise, <br>'Now is thi power don, the most nedes rise; <br>Thow hast yeven domes that bene evel dight, <br>I will sitten in thi sete and dressen hem aright.' <br>The justice satte stille and roos not anon; <br>And Gamelyn cleved his chekebon; <br>Gamelyn toke him in his armes and no more spake, <br>But threwe hym over the barre and his arme brake.<br>Dorst noon to Gamelyn seie but goode, <br>Forfeerd of the company that without stoode.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Gamelyn sette him doun in the justise sete, <br>And Sire Ote his brother by him and Adam at his fete. <br>Whan Gamelyn was sette in the justise stede, <br>Herken of a bourde that Gamelyn dede. <br>He lete fetter the justise and his fals brother, <br>And did hem com to the barre that on with that other. <br>Whan Gamelyn had thus ydon had he no rest, <br>Til he had enquered who was on his quest <br>Forto demen his brother Sir Ote for to honge; <br>Er he wist what thei were hym thought ful longe.<br>But as sone as Gamelyn wist where thei were, <br>He did hem everechon fetter in fere, <br>And bringgen hem to the barre and setten in rewe; <br>'By my feith!' seide the justise, 'the sherrive is a shrewe!' <br>Than seide Gamelyn to the justise, <br>'Thou hast yove domes of the worst assise; <br>And the twelve sesoures that weren on the quest, <br>Thei shul be honged this day so have I good rest!' <br>Than seide the sheref to yonge Gamelyn, <br>'Lord, I crie thee mercie brother art thou myn.' <br>'Therfor,' seide Gamelyn, 'have thou Cristes curs, <br>For and thow were maister I shuld have wors.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">For to make shorte tale and not to longe, <br>He ordeyned hym a quest of his men stronge; <br>The justice and the shirreve both honged hie, <br>To weyven with the ropes and the winde drye; <br>And the twelve sisours (sorwe have that rekke!)<br>Alle thei were honged fast by the nekke. <br>Thus endeth the fals knyght with his trecherye, <br>That ever had lad his lif in falsenesse and folye. <br>He was honged by the nek and not by the purs, <br>That was the mede that he had for his faders curs.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Sire Ote was eldest and Gamelyn was yenge, <br>Wenten to her frendes and passed to the kinge; <br>Thei maden pees with the king of the best sise. <br>The king loved wel Sir Ote and made hym justise. <br>And after, the king made Gamelyn in est and in west, <br>The cheef justice of his free forest; <br>Alle his wight yonge men the king foryaf her gilt, <br>And sithen in good office the king hath hem pilt, <br>Thus wane Gamelyn his land and his lede, <br>And wreke him on his enemyes and quytte hem her mede;<br>And Sire Ote his brother made him his heire, <br>And sithen wedded Gamelyn a wif good and faire; <br>They lyved togidere the while that Crist wolde, <br>And sithen was Gamelyn graven under molde. <br>And so shull we alle may ther no man fle: <br>God bring us to that joye that ever shal be!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Anonymous+Olde+English">Anonymous Olde English</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=346127" data-title="The Tale of Gamelyn de Anonymous Olde English" data-description="Fitt 1 Lithes and listneth and harkeneth aright, And ye shul here of a doughty knyght; Sire John of Boundes was his name, He coude of norture and of mochel game. Thre sones the knyght had and with his body he wan, The eldest was a moche schrewe..."></div> </div> </div>

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