Litheth, and lesteneth · and herkeneth aright, And ye schulle heere a talking · of a doughty knight; Sire Iohan of Boundys · was his righte name, He cowde of norture y-nough · and mochil of game. Thre sones the knight hadde · that with his body he wan; The eldest was a moche schrewe · and sone he bigan. His bretheren loved wel here fader · and of him were agast, The eldest deserved his fadres curs · and had it at the last. The goode knight his fader · livede so yore, That deth was comen him to · and handled him ful sore. The goode knight cared sore · syk ther he lay, How his children scholde · liven after his day. He hadde ben wyde-wher · but non housbond he was, Al the lond that he hadde · it was verrey purchas. Fayn he wolde it were · dressed among hem alle, That ech of hem hadde his part · as it mighte falle. Tho sente he in-to cuntre · after wyse knightes, To helpe delen his londes · and dressen hem to-rightes. He sente hem word by lettres · they schulden hye blyve, If they wolde speke with him · whyl he was on lyve. Tho the knightes herden · syk that he lay, Hadde they no reste · nother night ne day, Til they comen to him · ther he lay stille On his deth-bedde · to abyde goddes wille. Than seyde the goode knight · syk ther he lay, 'Lordes, I you warne · for soth, withoute nay, I may no lenger liven · heer in this stounde; For thurgh goddes wille · deth draweth me to grounde.' Ther nas non of hem alle · that herde him aright, That they ne hadden reuthe · of that ilke knight, And seyde, 'sir, for goddes love · ne dismay you nought; God may do bote of bale · that is now y-wrought.'   Than spak the goode knight · syk ther he lay, 'Boote of bale god may sende · I wot it is no nay; But I byseke you, knightes · for the love of me, Goth and dresseth my lond · among my sones three. And sires, for the love of god · deleth hem nat amis, And forgetith nat Gamelyn · my yonge sone that is. Taketh heed to that on · as wel as to that other; Selde ye see ony eyr · helpen his brother.'   Tho leete they the knight lyen · that was nought in hele, And wenten in-to counsel · his londes for to dele; For to delen hem alle · to oon, that was her thought, And for Gamelyn was yongest · he schulde have nought. Al the lond that ther was · they dalten it in two, And leeten Gamelyn the yonge · withoute londe go, And ech of hem seyde · to other ful lowde, His bretheren mighte yeve him lond · whan he good cowde. Whan they hadde deled · the lond at here wille, They comen ayein to the knight · ther he lay ful stille, And tolden him anon-right · how they hadden wrought; And the knight ther he lay · lyked it right nought. Than seyde the knight · 'by seynt Martyn, For al that ye have y-doon · yit is the lond myn; For goddes love, neyhebours · stondeth alle stille, And I wil dele my lond · right after my wille. Iohan, myn eldeste sone · schal have plowes fyve, That was my fadres heritage · whyl he was on lyve; And my middeleste sone · fyve plowes of lond, That I halp for to gete · with my righte hond; And al myn other purchas · of londes and leedes, That I biquethe Gamelyn · and alle my goode steedes. And I biseke yow, goode men · that lawe conne of londe, For Gamelynes love · that my queste stonde.' Thus dalte the knight · his lond by his day, Right on his deth-bedde · syk ther he lay; And sone aftirward · he lay stoon-stille, And deyde whan tyme com · as it was Cristes wille. And anon as he was deed · and under gras y-grave, Sone the elder brother · gyled the yonge knave; He took into his hond · his lond and his leede, And Gamelyn himselfe · to clothen and to feede. He clothed him and fedde him · yvel and eek wrothe, And leet his londes for-fare · and his houses bothe, His parkes and his woodes · and dede nothing wel; And seththen he it aboughte · on his faire fel. So longe was Gamelyn · in his brotheres halle, For the strengest, of good wil · they doutiden him alle; Ther was non ther-inne · nowther yong ne old, That wolde wraththe Gamelyn · were he never so bold. Gamelyn stood on a day · in his brotheres yerde, And bigan with his hond · to handlen his berde; He thoughte on his londes · that layen unsawe, And his faire okes · that down were y-drawe; His parkes were y-broken · and his deer bireved; Of alle his goode steedes · noon was him bileved; His howses were unhiled · and ful yvel dight; Tho thoughte Gamelyn · it wente nought aright. Afterward cam his brother · walkinge thare, And seyde to Gamelyn · 'is our mete yare?' Tho wraththed him Gamelyn · and swor by goddes book, 'Thou schalt go bake thy-self · I wil nought be thy cook!' 'How? brother Gamelyn · how answerest thou now? Thou spake never such a word · as thou dost now.' 'By my faith,' seyde Gamelyn · 'now me thinketh neede, Of alle the harmes that I have · I tok never ar heede. My parkes ben to-broken · and my deer bireved, Of myn armure and my steedes · nought is me bileved; Al that my fader me biquath · al goth to schame, And therfor have thou goddes curs · brother by thy name!' Than bispak his brother · that rape was of rees, 'Stond stille, gadeling · and hold right thy pees; Thou schalt be fayn for to have · thy mete and thy wede; What spekest thou, Gamelyn · of lond other of leede?' Thanne seyde Gamelyn · the child that was ying, 'Cristes curs mot he have · that clepeth me gadeling! I am no worse gadeling · ne no worse wight, But born of a lady · and geten of a knight.' Ne durste he nat to Gamelyn · ner a-foote go, But clepide to him his men · and seyde to hem tho, 'Goth and beteth this boy · and reveth him his wit, And lat him lerne another tyme · to answere me bet.' Thanne seyde the child · yonge Gamelyn, 'Cristes curs mot thou have · brother art thou myn! And if I schal algate · be beten anon, Cristes curs mot thou have · but thou be that oon!' And anon his brother · in that grete hete Made his men to fette staves · Gamelyn to bete. Whan that everich of hem · a staf hadde y-nome, Gamelyn was war anon · tho he seigh hem come; Tho Gamelyn seigh hem come · he loked over-al, And was war of a pestel · stood under a wal; Gamelyn was light of foot · and thider gan he lepe, And drof alle his brotheres men · right on an hepe. He loked as a wilde lyoun · and leyde on good woon; Tho his brother say that · he bigan to goon; He fley up in-til a loft · and schette the dore fast; Thus Gamelyn with the pestel · made hem alle agast. Some for Gamelynes love · and some for his eye, Alle they drowe by halves · tho he gan to pleye. 'What! how now?' seyde Gamelyn · 'evel mot ye thee! Wil ye biginne contek · and so sone flee?' Gamelyn soughte his brother · whider he was flowe, And saugh wher he loked · out at a windowe. 'Brother,' sayde Gamelyn · 'com a litel ner, And I wil teche thee a play · atte bokeler.' His brother him answerde · and swor by seynt Richer, 'Whyl the pestel is in thin hond · I wil come no neer: Brother, I wil make thy pees · I swere by Cristes ore; Cast away the pestel · and wraththe thee no-more.' 'I mot neede,' sayde Gamelyn · 'wraththe me at oones, For thou wolde make thy men · to breke myne boones, Ne hadde I had mayn · and might in myn armes, To have y-put hem fro me · they wolde have do me harmes.' 'Gamelyn,' sayde his brother · 'be thou nought wroth, For to seen thee have harm · it were me right loth; I ne dide it nought, brother · but for a fonding, For to loken if thou were strong · and art so ying.' 'Com a-doun than to me · and graunte me my bone Of thing I wil thee aske · and we schul saughte sone.' Doun than cam his brother · that fikil was and fel, And was swithe sore · agast of the pestel. He seyde, 'brother Gamelyn · aske me thy boone, And loke thou me blame · but I graunte sone.' Thanne seyde Gamelyn · 'brother, y-wis, And we schulle ben at oon · thou most me graunte this: Al that my fader me biquath · whyl he was on lyve, Thou most do me it have · yif we schul nat stryve.' 'That schalt thou have, Gamelyn · I swere by Cristes ore! Al that thy fader thee biquath · though thou woldest have more; Thy lond, that lyth laye · ful wel it schal be sowe, And thyn howses reysed up · that ben leyd so lowe.' Thus seyde the knight · to Gamelyn with mowthe, And thoughte eek of falsnes · as he wel couthe. The knight thoughte on tresoun · and Gamelyn on noon, And wente and kiste his brother · and, whan they were at oon, Allas! yonge Gamelyn · nothing he ne wiste With which a false tresoun · his brother him kiste!   Litheth, and lesteneth · and holdeth your tonge, And ye schul heere talking · of Gamelyn the yonge. Ther was ther bisyden · cryed a wrastling, And therfor ther was set up · a ram and a ring; And Gamelyn was in good wil · to wende therto, For to preven his might · what he cowthe do. 'Brother,' seyde Gamelyn · 'by seynt Richer, Thou most lene me to-night · a litel courser That is freisch to the spore · on for to ryde; I most on an erande · a litel her bisyde.' 'By god!' seyde his brother · 'of steedes in my stalle Go and chese thee the best · and spare non of alle Of steedes or of coursers · that stonden hem bisyde; And tel me, goode brother · whider thou wolt ryde.'   'Her bisyde, brother · is cryed a wrastling, And therfor schal be set up · a ram and a ring; Moche worschip it were · brother, to us alle, Might I the ram and the ring · bring home to this halle.' A steede ther was sadeled · smertely and skeet; Gamelyn did a paire spores · fast on his feet. He sette his foot in the styrop · the steede he bistrood, And toward the wrasteling · the yonge child rood. Tho Gamelyn the yonge · was ride out at the gat, The false knight his brother · lokked it after that, And bisoughte Iesu Crist · that is heven king, He mighte breke his nekke · in that wrasteling. As sone as Gamelyn com · ther the place was, He lighte doun of his steede · and stood on the gras, And ther he herd a frankeleyn · wayloway singe, And bigan bitterly · his hondes for to wringe. 'Goode man,' seyde Gamelyn · 'why makestow this fare? Is ther no man that may · you helpe out of this care?' 'Allas!' seyde this frankeleyn · 'that ever was I bore! For tweye stalworthe sones · I wene that I have lore; A champioun is in the place · that hath y-wrought me sorwe, For he hath slayn my two sones · but-if god hem borwe. I wold yeve ten pound · by Iesu Crist! and more, With the nones I fand a man · to handelen him sore.' 'Goode man,' sayde Gamelyn · 'wilt thou wel doon, Hold myn hors, whyl my man · draweth of my schoon, And help my man to kepe · my clothes and my steede, And I wil into place go · to loke if I may speede.' 'By god!' sayde the frankeleyn · 'anon it schal be doon; I wil my-self be thy man · and drawen of thy schoon, And wende thou into the place · Iesu Crist thee speede, And drede not of thy clothes · nor of thy goode steede.'   Barfoot and ungert · Gamelyn in cam, Alle that weren in the place · heede of him they nam, How he durste auntre him · of him to doon his might That was so doughty champioun · in wrastling and in fight. Up sterte the champioun · rapely and anoon, Toward yonge Gamelyn · he bigan to goon, And sayde, 'who is thy fader · and who is thy sire? For sothe thou art a gret fool · that thou come hire!' Gamelyn answerde · the champioun tho, 'Thou knewe wel my fader · whyl he couthe go, Whyles he was on lyve · by seint Martyn! Sir Iohan of Boundys was his name · and I Gamelyn.' 'Felaw,' seyde the champioun · 'al-so mot I thryve, I knew wel thy fader · whyl he was on lyve; And thyself, Gamelyn · I wil that thou it heere, Whyl thou were a yong boy · a moche schrewe thou were.' Than seyde Gamelyn · and swor by Cristes ore, 'Now I am older woxe · thou schalt me finde a more!' 'By god!' sayde the champioun · 'welcome mote thou be! Come thou ones in myn hond · schalt thou never thee.' It was wel withinne the night · and the moone schon, Whan Gamelyn and the champioun · togider gonne goon. The champioun caste tornes · to Gamelyn that was prest, And Gamelyn stood stille · and bad him doon his best. Thanne seyde Gamelyn · to the champioun, 'Thou art faste aboute · to bringe me adoun; Now I have y-proved · many tornes of thyne, Thow most,' he seyde, 'proven · on or two of myne.' Gamelyn to the champioun · yede smertely anon, Of all the tornes that he cowthe · he schewed him but oon, And caste him on the lefte syde · that three ribbes to-brak, And ther-to his oon arm · that yaf a gret crak. Thanne seyde Gamelyn · smertely anoon, 'Schal it be holde for a cast · or elles for noon?' 'By god!' seyde the champioun · 'whether that it be, He that cometh ones in thin hand · schal he never thee!' Than seyde the frankeleyn · that had his sones there, 'Blessed be thou, Gamelyn · that ever thou bore were!' The frankeleyn seyde to the champioun · of him stood him noon eye, 'This is yonge Gamelyn · that taughte thee this pleye.' Agein answerd the champioun · that lyked nothing wel, 'He is a lither mayster · and his pley is right fel; Sith I wrastled first · it is y-go ful yore, But I was nevere in my lyf · handeled so sore.' Gamelyn stood in the place · allone withoute serk, And seyde, 'if ther be eny mo · lat hem come to werk; The champioun that peyned him · to werke so sore, It semeth by his continaunce · that he wil no-more.' Gamelyn in the place · stood as stille as stoon, For to abyde wrasteling · but ther com noon; Ther was noon with Gamelyn · wolde wrastle more, For he handled the champioun · so wonderly sore. Two gentil-men ther were · that yemede the place, Comen to Gamelyn · (god yeve him goode grace!) And sayde to him, 'do on · thyn hosen and thy schoon, For sothe at this tyme · this feire is y-doon.' And than seyde Gamelyn · 'so mot I wel fare, I have nought yet halven-del · sold up my ware.' Tho seyde the champioun · 'so brouke I my sweere, He is a fool that ther-of byeth · thou sellest it so deere.' Tho sayde the frankeleyn · that was in moche care, 'Felaw,' he seyde · 'why lakkest thou his ware? By seynt Iame in Galys · that many man hath sought, Yet it is to good cheep · that thou hast y-bought.' Tho that wardeynes were · of that wrasteling Come and broughte Gamelyn · the ram and the ring, And seyden, 'have, Gamelyn · the ring and the ram, For the beste wrasteler · that ever here cam.' Thus wan Gamelyn · the ram and the ring, And wente with moche Ioye · home in the morning. His brother seih wher he cam · with the grete rowte, And bad schitte the gate · and holde him withoute. The porter of his lord · was ful sore agast, And sterte anon to the gate · and lokked it fast.   Now litheth, and lesteneth · bothe yonge and olde, And ye schul heere gamen · of Gamelyn the bolde. Gamelyn come ther-to · for to have comen in, And thanne was it y-schet · faste with a pin; Than seyde Gamelyn · 'porter, undo the yat, For many good mannes sone · stondeth ther-at.' Than answerd the porter · and swor by goddes berde, 'Thow ne schalt, Gamelyn · come into this yerde.' 'Thow lixt,' sayde Gamelyn · 'so browke I my chin!' He smot the wiket with his foot · and brak awey the pin. The porter seyh tho · it might no better be, He sette foot on erthe · and bigan to flee. 'By my faith,' seyde Gamelyn · 'that travail is y-lore, For I am of foot as light as thou · though thou haddest swore.' Gamelyn overtook the porter · and his teene wrak, And gerte him in the nekke · that the bon to-brak, And took him by that oon arm · and threw him in a welle, Seven fadmen it was deep · as I have herd telle. Whan Gamelyn the yonge · thus hadde pleyd his play, Alle that in the yerde were · drewen hem away; They dredden him ful sore · for werkes that he wroughte, And for the faire company · that he thider broughte. Gamelyn yede to the gate · and leet it up wyde; He leet in alle maner men · that gon in wolde or ryde, And seyde, 'ye be welcome · withouten eny greeve, For we wiln be maistres heer · and aske no man leve. Yestirday I lefte' · seyde yonge Gamelyn, 'In my brother seller · fyve tonne of wyn; I wil not that this compaignye · parten a-twinne, And ye wil doon after me · whyl eny sope is thrinne, And if my brother grucche · or make foul cheere, Other for spense of mete or drink · that we spenden heere, I am oure catour · and bere oure aller purs, He schal have for his grucching · seint Maries curs. My brother is a niggoun · I swer by Cristes ore, And we wil spende largely · that he hath spared yore; And who that maketh grucching · that we here dwelle, He schal to the porter · into the draw-welle.' Seven dayes and seven night · Gamelyn held his feste, With moche mirth and solas · that was ther, and no cheste; In a little toret · his brother lay y-steke, And sey hem wasten his good · but durste he not speke. Erly on a morning · on the eighte day, The gestes come to Gamelyn · and wolde gon here way. 'Lordes,' seyde Gamelyn · 'wil ye so hyë? Al the wyn is not yet dronke · so brouke I myn yë.' Gamelyn in his herte · was he ful wo, Whan his gestes took her leve · from him for to go; He wolde they had lenger abide · and they seyde 'nay,' But bitaughte Gamelyn · god, and good day. Thus made Gamelyn his feest · and broughte it wel to ende, And after his gestes · toke leve to wende.   Litheth, and lesteneth · and holdeth youre tonge, And ye schul heere gamen · of Gamelyn the yonge; Herkeneth, lordinges · and lesteneth aright, Whan alle gestes were goon · how Gamelyn was dight. Al the whyl that Gamelyn · heeld his mangerye, His brother thoughte on him be wreke · with his treccherye. Tho Gamelyns gestes · were riden and y-goon, Gamelyn stood allone · frendes had he noon; Tho after ful soone · withinne a litel stounde, Gamelyn was y-taken · and ful harde y-bounde. Forth com the false knight · out of the soleer, To Gamelyn his brother · he yede ful neer, And sayde to Gamelyn · 'who made thee so bold For to stroye my stoor · of myn houshold?' 'Brother,' seyde Gamelyn · 'wraththe thee right nought, For it is many day y-gon · siththen it was bought; For, brother, thou hast y-had · by seynt Richer, Of fiftene plowes of lond · this sixtene yer, And of alle the beestes · thou hast forth bred, That my fader me biquath · on his deth-bed; Of al this sixtene yeer · I yeve thee the prow, For the mete and the drink · that we have spended now.' Thanne seyde the false knight · (evel mot he thee!) 'Herkne, brother Gamelyn · what I wol yeve thee; For of my body, brother · heir geten have I noon, I wil make thee myn heir · I swere by seint Iohan.' Par ma foy! sayde Gamelyn · 'and if it so be, And thou thenke as thou seyst · god yelde it thee!' Nothing wiste Gamelyn · of his brotheres gyle; Therfore he him bigyled · in a litel whyle. 'Gamelyn,' seyde he · 'o thing I thee telle; Tho thou threwe my porter · in the draw-welle, I swor in that wraththe · and in that grete moot, That thou schuldest be bounde · bothe hand and foot; Therfore I thee biseche · brother Gamelyn, Lat me nought be forsworen · brother art thou myn; Lat me binde thee now · bothe hand and feet, For to holde myn avow · as I thee biheet.' 'Brother,' sayde Gamelyn · 'al-so mot I thee! Thou schalt not be forsworen · for the love of me.' Tho made they Gamelyn to sitte · mighte he nat stonde, Til they hadde him bounde · bothe foot and honde. The false knight his brother · of Gamelyn was agast, And sente aftir feteres · to feteren him fast. His brother made lesinges · on him ther he stood, And tolde hem that comen in · that Gamelyn was wood. Gamelyn stood to a post · bounden in the halle, Tho that comen in ther · lokede on him alle. Ever stood Gamelyn · even upright; But mete ne drink had he non · neither day ne night. Than seyde Gamelyn · 'brother, by myn hals, Now I have aspyed · thou art a party fals; Had I wist that tresoun · that thou haddest y-founde, I wolde have yeve thee strokes · or I had be bounde!' Gamelyn stood bounden · stille as eny stoon; Two dayes and two nightes · mete had he noon. Thanne seyde Gamelyn · that stood y-bounde stronge, 'Adam spenser · me thinkth I faste to longe; Adam spenser · now I byseche thee, For the mochel love · my fader loved thee, If thou may come to the keyes · lese me out of bond, And I wil parte with thee · of my free lond.' Thanne seyde Adam · that was the spencer, 'I have served thy brother · this sixtene yeer, If I leete thee goon · out of his bour, He wolde say afterward · I were a traytour.' 'Adam,' sayde Gamelyn · 'so brouke I myn hals! Thou schalt finde my brother · atte laste fals; Therfor, brother Adam · louse me out of bond, And I wil parte with thee · of my free lond.' 'Up swich a forward' · seyde Adam, 'y-wis, I wil do therto · al that in me is.' 'Adam,' seyde Gamelyn · 'al-so mot I thee, I wol holde thee covenant · and thou wil me.' Anon as Adames lord · to bedde was y-goon, Adam took the keyes, and leet · Gamelyn out anoon; He unlokked Gamelyn · bothe handes and feet, In hope of avauncement · that he him biheet. Than seyde Gamelyn · 'thanked be goddes sonde! Now I am loosed · bothe foot and honde; Had I now eten · and dronken aright, Ther is noon in this hous · schulde binde me this night.' Adam took Gamelyn · as stille as ony stoon, And ladde him in-to spence · rapely and anon, And sette him to soper · right in a privee stede, He bad him do gladly · and Gamelyn so dede. Anon as Gamelyn hadde · eten wel and fyn, And therto y-dronke wel · of the rede wyn, 'Adam,' seyde Gamelyn · 'what is now thy reed? Wher I go to my brother · and girde of his heed?' 'Gamelyn,' seyde Adam · 'it schal not be so. I can teche thee a reed · that is worth the two. I wot wel for sothe · that this is no nay, We schul have a mangery · right on Soneday; Abbotes and priours · many heer schal be, And other men of holy chirche · as I telle thee; Thow schalt stonde up by the post · as thou were hond-fast, And I schal leve hem unloke · awey thou may hem cast. Whan that they have eten · and wasschen here hondes, Thou schalt biseke hem alle · to bring thee out of bondes; And if they wille borwe thee · that were good game, Then were thou out of prisoun · and I out of blame; And if everich of hem · say unto us 'nay,' I schal do an other · I swere by this day! Thou schalt have a good staf · and I wil have another, And Cristes curs have that oon · that faileth that other!' 'Ye, for gode!' sayde Gamelyn · 'I say it for me, If I fayle on my syde · yvel mot I thee! If we schul algate · assoile hem of here sinne, Warne me, brother Adam · whan I schal biginne.' 'Gamelyn,' seyde Adam · 'by seynte Charite, I wil warne thee biforn · whan that it schal be; Whan I twinke on thee · loke for to goon, And cast awey the feteres · and com to me anoon.' 'Adam,' seide Gamelyn · 'blessed be thy bones! That is a good counseil · yeven for the nones; If they werne me thanne · to bringe me out of bendes, I wol sette goode strokes · right on here lendes.'   Tho the Sonday was y-come · and folk to the feste, Faire they were welcomed · both leste and meste; And ever atte halle-dore · as they comen in, They caste their eye · on yonge Gamelyn. The false knight his brother · ful of trechery, Alle the gestes that ther were · atte mangery, Of Gamelyn his brother · he tolde hem with mouthe Al the harm and the schame · that he telle couthe. Tho they were served · of messes two or three, Than seyde Gamelyn · 'how serve ye me? It is nought wel served · by god that al made! That I sitte fasting · and other men make glade.' The false knight his brother · ther that he stood, Tolde alle his gestes · that Gamelyn was wood; And Gamelyn stood stille · and answerde nought, But Adames wordes · he held in his thought. Tho Gamelyn gan speke · dolfully with-alle To the grete lordes · that saten in the halle: 'Lordes,' he seyde · 'for Cristes passioun, Helpeth bringe Gamelyn · out of prisoun.' Than seyde an abbot · sorwe on his cheeke! 'He schal have Cristes curs · and seynte Maries eeke, That thee out of prisoun · beggeth other borwe, But ever worthe hem wel · that doth thee moche sorwe.' After that abbot · than spak another, 'I wold thin heed were of · though thou were my brother! Alle that thee borwe · foule mot hem falle!' Thus they seyden alle · that weren in the halle. Than seyde a priour · yvel mot he thryve! 'It is moche scathe, boy · that thou art on lyve.' 'Ow!' seyde Gamelyn · 'so brouke I my bon! Now I have aspyed · that freendes have I non. Cursed mot he worthe · bothe fleisch and blood, That ever do priour · or abbot ony good!' Adam the spencer · took up the cloth, And loked on Gamelyn · and say that he was wroth; Adam on the pantrye · litel he thoughte, But two goode staves · to halle-dore he broughte, Adam loked on Gamelyn · and he was war anoon, And caste awey the feteres · and he bigan to goon: Tho he com to Adam · he took that oo staf, And bigan to worche · and goode strokes yaf. Gamelyn cam in-to the halle · and the spencer bothe, And loked hem aboute · as they had be wrothe; Gamelyn sprengeth holy-water · with an oken spire, That some that stoode upright · fellen in the fire. There was no lewed man · that in the halle stood, That wolde do Gamelyn · eny thing but good, But stood bisyden · and leet hem bothe werche, For they hadde no rewthe · of men of holy cherche; Abbot or priour · monk or chanoun, That Gamelyn overtok · anon they yeeden doun. Ther was non of hem alle · that with his staf mette, That he ne made him overthrowe · and quitte him his dette. 'Gamelyn,' seyde Adam · 'for seynte Charite, Pay large liverey · for the love of me, And I wil kepe the dore · so ever here I masse! Er they ben assoyled · there shal noon passe.' 'Dowt thee nought,' seyde Gamelyn · 'whyl we ben in-feere, Kep thou wel the dore · and I wol werche heere; Stere thee, good Adam · and lat ther noon flee, And we schul telle largely · how many that ther be.' 'Gamelyn,' seyde Adam · 'do hem but good; They ben men of holy chirche · draw of hem no blood, Save wel the croune · and do hem non harmes, But brek bothe her legges · and siththen here armes.' Thus Gamelyn and Adam · wroughte right fast, And pleyden with the monkes · and made hem agast. Thider they come ryding · Iolily with swaynes, And hom ayen they were y-lad · in cartes and in waynes. Tho they hadden al y-don · than seyde a gray frere, 'Allas! sire abbot · what dide we now heere? Tho that we comen hider · it was a cold reed, Us hadde ben better at home · with water and with breed.' Whyl Gamelyn made ordres · of monkes and frere, Ever stood his brother · and made foul chere; Gamelyn up with his staf · that he wel knew, And gerte him in the nekke · that he overthrew; A litel above the girdel · the rigge-bon to-barst; And sette him in the feteres · ther he sat arst. 'Sitte ther, brother' · sayde Gamelyn, 'For to colen thy blood · as I dide myn.' As swithe as they hadde · y-wroken hem on here foon, They askeden watir · and wisschen anoon, What some for here love · and some for here awe, Alle the servants served hem · of the beste lawe. The scherreve was thennes · but a fyve myle, And al was y-told him · in a litel whyle, How Gamelyn and Adam · had doon a sory rees, Bounden and y-wounded men · ayein the kinges pees; Tho bigan sone · stryf for to wake, And the scherref was aboute · Gamelyn for to take.   Now lytheth and lesteneth · so god yif you good fyn! And ye schul heere good game · of yonge Gamelyn. Four and twenty yonge men · that heelden hem ful bolde, Come to the schirref · and seyde that they wolde Gamelyn and Adam · fetten, by her fay; The scherref yaf hem leve · soth as I you say; They hyeden faste · wold they nought bilinne, Til they come to the gate · ther Gamelyn was inne. They knokked on the gate · the porter was ny, And loked out at an hol · as man that was sly. The porter hadde biholde · hem a litel whyle, He loved wel Gamelyn · and was adrad of gyle, And leet the wicket stonden · y-steke ful stille, And asked hem withoute · what was here wille. For al the grete company · thanne spak but oon, 'Undo the gate, porter · and lat us in goon.' Than seyde the porter · 'so brouke I my chin, Ye schul sey your erand · er ye comen in.' 'Sey to Gamelyn and Adam · if here wille be, We wil speke with hem · wordes two or thre.' 'Felaw,' seyde the porter · 'stond there stille, And I wil wende to Gamelyn · to witen his wille.' In wente the porter · to Gamelyn anoon, And seyde, 'Sir, I warne you · her ben come your foon; The scherreves meyne · ben atte gate, For to take you bothe · schulle ye nat scape.' 'Porter,' seyde Gamelyn · 'so moot I wel thee! I wil allowe thee thy wordes · whan I my tyme see; Go agayn to the yate · and dwel with hem a whyle, And thou schalt see right sone · porter, a gyle. Adam,' sayde Gamelyn · 'looke thee to goon; We have foo-men atte gate · and frendes never oon; It ben the schirrefes men · that hider ben y-come, They ben swore to-gidere · that we schul be nome.' 'Gamelyn,' seyde Adam · 'hye thee right blyve, And if I faile thee this day · evel mot I thryve! And we schul so welcome · the scherreves men, That some of hem schul make · here beddes in the fen.' Atte posterne-gate · Gamelyn out wente, And a good cart-staf · in his hand he hente; Adam hente sone · another gret staf For to helpe Gamelyn · and goode strokes yaf. Adam felde tweyne · and Gamelyn felde three, The other setten feet on erthe · and bigonne flee. 'What?' seyde Adam · 'so ever here I masse! I have a draught of good wyn! · drink er ye passe!' 'Nay, by god!' sayde thay · 'thy drink is not good, It wolde make mannes brayn · to lyen in his hood.' Gamelyn stood stille · and loked him aboute, And seih the scherreve come · with a gret route. 'Adam,' seyde Gamelyn · 'what be now thy reedes? Here cometh the scherreve · and wil have cure heedes.' Adam sayde, 'Gamelyn · my reed is now this, Abyde we no lenger · lest we fare amis: I rede that we to wode goon · ar that we be founde, Better is us ther loos · than in town y-bounde.' Adam took by the hond · yonge Gamelyn; And everich of hem two · drank a draught of wyn, And after took her cours · and wenten her way; Tho fond the scherreve · nest, but non ay. The scherreve lighte adoun · and went in-to the halle, And fond the lord y-fetered · faste with-alle. The scherreve unfetered him · sone, and that anoon, And sente after a leche · to hele his rigge-boon.   Lete we now this false knight · lyen in his care, And talke we of Gamelyn · and loke how he fare. Gamelyn in-to the woode · stalkede stille, And Adam the spenser · lykede ful ille; Adam swor to Gamelyn · by seynt Richer, 'Now I see it is mery · to be a spencer, That lever me were · keyes for to bere, Than walken in this wilde woode · my clothes to tere.' 'Adam,' seyde Gamelyn · 'dismaye thee right nought; Many good mannes child · in care is y-brought.' And as they stoode talking · bothen in-feere, Adam herd talking of men · and neyh, him thought, they were. Tho Gamelyn under the woode · lokede aright, Sevene score of yonge men · he saugh wel a-dight; Alle satte atte mete · in compas aboute. 'Adam,' seyde Gamelyn · 'now have we no doute, After bale cometh boote · thurgh grace of god almight; Me thinketh of mete and drink · that I have a sight.' Adam lokede tho · under woode-bowgh, And whan he seyh mete · he was glad y-nough; For he hopede to god · for to have his deel, And he was sore alonged · after a good meel. As he seyde that word · the mayster outlawe Saugh Gamelyn and Adam · under woode-schawe. 'Yonge men,' seyde the maister · 'by the goode roode, I am war of gestes · god sende us non but goode; Yonder ben two yonge men · wonder wel a-dight, And paraventure ther ben mo · who-so lokede aright. Ariseth up, ye yonge men · and fetteth hem to me; It is good that we witen · what men they be.' Up ther sterten sevene · fro the diner, And metten with Gamelyn · and Adam spenser. Whan they were neyh hem · than seyde that oon, 'Yeldeth up, yonge men · your bowes and your floon.' Thanne seyde Gamelyn · that yong was of elde, 'Moche sorwe mot he have · that to you hem yelde! I curse non other · but right my-selve; They ye fette to yow fyve · thanne ye be twelve!' Tho they herde by his word · that might was in his arm, Ther was non of hem alle · that wolde do him harm, But sayde unto Gamelyn · mildely and stille, 'Com afore our maister · and sey to him thy wille.' 'Yonge men,' sayde Gamelyn · 'by your lewte, What man is your maister · that ye with be?' Alle they answerde · withoute lesing, 'Oure maister is y-crouned · of outlawes king.' 'Adam,' seyde Gamelyn · 'go-we in Cristes name; He may neyther mete nor drink · werne us, for schame. If that he be hende · and come of gentil blood, He wol yeve us mete and drink · and doon us som good.' 'By seynt Iame!' seyde Adam · 'what harm that I gete, I wil auntre to the dore · that I hadde mete.' Gamelyn and Adam · wente forth in-feere, And they grette the maister · that they founde there. Than seide the maister · king of outlawes, 'What seeke ye, yonge men · under woode-schawes?' Gamelyn answerde · the king with his croune, 'He moste needes walke in woode · that may not walke in towne. Sire, we walke not heer · noon harm for to do, But-if we meete with a deer · to scheete ther-to, As men that ben hungry · and mow no mete finde, And ben harde bistad · under woode-linde.' Of Gamelynes wordes · the maister hadde routhe, And seyde, 'ye schal have y-nough · have god my trouthe!' He bad hem sitte ther adoun · for to take reste; And bad hem ete and drinke · and that of the beste. As they sete and eeten · and dronke wel and fyn, Than seyde that oon to that other · 'this is Gamelyn.' Tho was the maister outlawe · in-to counseil nome, And told how it was Gamelyn · that thider was y-come. Anon as he herde · how it was bifalle, He made him maister under him · over hem alle. Within the thridde wyke · him com tyding, To the maister outlawe · that tho was her king, That he schulde come hom · his pees was y-mad; And of that goode tyding · he was tho ful glad. Tho seyde he to his yonge men · 'soth for to telle, Me ben comen tydinges · I may no lenger dwelle.' Tho was Gamelyn anon · withoute tarying, Maad maister outlawe · and crouned here king.   Tho was Gamelyn crouned · king of outlawes, And walked a whyle · under woode-schawes. The false knight his brother · was scherreve and sire, And leet his brother endite · for hate and for ire. Tho were his bonde-men · sory and nothing glad, When Gamelyn her lord · 'wolves-heed' was cryed and maad; And sente out of his men · wher they might him finde, For to seke Gamelyn · under woode-linde, To telle him tydinges · how the wind was went, And al his good reved · and his men schent.   Whan they had him founde · on knees they hem sette, And a-doun with here hood · and here lord grette; 'Sire, wraththe you nought · for the goode roode, For we have brought you tydinges · but they be nat goode. Now is thy brother scherreve · and hath the baillye, And he hath endited thee · and 'wolves-heed' doth thee crye.'   'Allas!' seyde Gamelyn · 'that ever I was so slak That I ne hadde broke his nekke · tho I his rigge brak! Goth, greteth hem wel · myn housbondes and wyf, I wol ben atte nexte schire · have god my lyf!' Gamelyn com wel redy · to the nexte schire, And ther was his brother · bothe lord and sire. Gamelyn com boldelich · in-to the moot-halle, And putte a-doun his hood · among the lordes alle; 'God save you alle, lordinges · that now here be! But broke-bak scherreve · evel mot thou thee! Why hast thou do me · that schame and vilonye, For to late endite me · and 'wolves-heed' me crye?' Tho thoughte the false knight · for to ben awreke, And leet take Gamelyn · moste he no more speke; Might ther be no more grace · but Gamelyn atte laste Was cast in-to prisoun · and fetered ful faste.   Gamelyn hath a brother · that highte sir Ote, As good a knight and hende · as mighte gon on foote. Anon ther yede a messager · to that goode knight, And tolde him al-togidere · how Gamelyn was dight. Anon as sire Ote herde · how Gamelyn was a-dight, He was wonder sory · was he no-thing light, And leet sadle a steede · and the way he nam, And to his tweyne bretheren · anon-right he cam. 'Sire,' seyde sire Ote · to the scherreve tho, 'We ben but three bretheren · schul we never be mo; And thou hast y-prisoned · the beste of us alle; Swich another brother · yvel mot him bifalle!' 'Sire Ote,' seide the false knight · 'lat be thy curs; By god, for thy wordes · he schal fare the wurs; To the kinges prisoun · anon he is y-nome, And ther he schal abyde · til the Iustice come.' 'Parde!' seyde sir Ote · 'better it schal be; I bidde him to maynpris · that thou graunte him me Til the nexte sitting · of deliveraunce, And thanne lat Gamelyn · stande to his chaunce.' 'Brother, in swich a forward · I take him to thee; And by thy fader soule · that thee bigat and me, But-if he be redy · whan the Iustice sitte, Thou schalt bere the Iuggement · for al thy grete witte.' 'I graunte wel,' seide sir Ote · 'that it so be. Let deliver him anon · and tak him to me.' Tho was Gamelyn delivered · to sire Ote his brother, And that night dwellede · that on with that other. On the morn seyde Gamelyn · to sire Ote the hende, 'Brother,' he seide, 'I moot · for sothe, from thee wende, To loke how my yonge men · leden here lyf, Whether they liven in Ioye · or elles in stryf.' 'By god!' seyde sire Ote · 'that is a cold reed, Now I see that al the cark · schal fallen on myn heed; For when the Iustice sitte · and thou be nought y-founde, I schal anon be take · and in thy stede y-bounde.' 'Brother,' sayde Gamelyn · 'dismaye thee nought, For by seint Iame in Gales · that many man hath sought, If that god almighty · holde my lyf and wit, I wil be ther redy · whan the Iustice sit.' Than seide sir Ote to Gamelyn · 'god schilde thee fro schame; Com whan thou seest tyme · and bring us out of blame.'   Litheth, and lesteneth · and holdeth you stille, And ye schul here how Gamelyn · hadde al his wille. Gamelyn wente ayein · under woode-rys, And fond there pleying · yonge men of prys. Tho was yong Gamelyn · glad and blithe y-nough, Whan he fond his mery men · under woode-bough. Gamelyn and his men · talkeden in-feere, And they hadde good game · here maister to heere; They tolden him of aventures · that they hadde founde, And Gamelyn hem tolde ayein · how he was fast y-bounde. Whyl Gamelyn was outlawed · hadde he no cors; There was no man that for him · ferde the wors, But abbotes and priours · monk and chanoun; On hem left he no-thing · whan he mighte hem nom. Whyl Gamelyn and his men · made merthes ryve, The false knight his brother · yvel mot he thryve! For he was fast aboute · bothe day and other, For to hyre the quest · to hangen his brother. Gamelyn stood on a day · and, as he biheeld The woodes and the schawes · in the wilde feeld, He thoughte on his brother · how he him beheet That he wolde be redy · whan the Iustice seet; He thoughte wel that he wolde · withoute delay, Come afore the Iustice · to kepen his day, And seide to his yonge men · 'dighteth you yare, For whan the Iustice sitte · we moote be thare, For I am under borwe · til that I come, And my brother for me · to prisoun schal be nome.' 'By seint Iame!' seyde his yonge men · 'and thou rede therto, Ordeyne how it schal be · and it schal be do.' Whyl Gamelyn was coming · ther the Iustice sat, The false knight his brother · foryat he nat that, To huyre the men on his quest · to hangen his brother; Though he hadde nought that oon · he wolde have that other. Tho cam Gamelyn · fro under woode-rys, And broughte with him · his yonge men of prys.   'I see wel,' seyde Gamelyn · 'the Iustice is set; Go aforn, Adam · and loke how it spet.' Adam wente into the halle · and loked al aboute, He seyh there stonde · lordes grete and stoute, And sir Ote his brother · fetered wel fast; Tho went Adam out of halle · as he were agast. Adam said to Gamelyn · and to his felawes alle, 'Sir Ote stant y-fetered · in the moot-halle.' 'Yonge men,' seide Gamelyn · 'this ye heeren alle; Sire Ote stant y-fetered · in the moot-halle. If god yif us grace · wel for to doo, He schal it abegge · that broughte him ther-too.' Thanne sayde Adam · that lokkes hadde hore, 'Cristes curs mote he have · that him bond so sore! And thou wilt, Gamelyn · do after my reed, Ther is noon in the halle · schal bere awey his heed.' 'Adam,' seyde Gamelyn · 'we wiln nought don so, We wil slee the giltif · and lat the other go. I wil into the halle · and with the Iustice speke; On hem that ben gultif · I wil ben awreke. Lat non scape at the dore · take, yonge men, yeme; For I wil be Iustice this day · domes for to deme. God spede me this day · at my newe werk! Adam, com on with me · for thou schalt be my clerk.' His men answereden him · and bade him doon his best, 'And if thou to us have neede · thou schalt finde us prest; We wiln stande with thee · whyl that we may dure, And but we werke manly · pay us non hure.' 'Yonge men,' seyde Gamelyn · 'so mot I wel thee! As trusty a maister · ye schal finde of me.' Right there the Iustice · sat in the halle, In wente Gamelyn · amonges hem alle.   Gamelyn leet unfetere · his brother out of bende. Thanne seyde sire Ote · his brother that was hende, 'Thou haddest almost, Gamelyn · dwelled to longe, For the quest is oute on me · that I schulde honge.' 'Brother,' seyde Gamelyn · 'so god yif me good rest! This day they schuln ben hanged · that ben on thy quest; And the Iustice bothe · that is the Iugge-man, And the scherreve bothe · thurgh him it bigan.' Thanne seyde Gamelyn · to the Iustise, Now is thy power y-don · thou most nedes arise; Thow hast yeven domes · that ben yvel dight, I wil sitten in thy sete · and dressen hem aright.' The Iustice sat stille · and roos nought anoon; And Gamelyn clevede · [a-two] his cheeke-boon; Gamelyn took him in his arm · and no more spak, But threw him over the barre · and his arm to-brak. Durste non to Gamelyn · seye but good, For ferd of the company · that withoute stood. Gamelyn sette him doun · in the Iustices seet, And sire Ote his brother by him · and Adam at his feet. Whan Gamelyn was y-set · in the Iustices stede, Herkneth of a bourde · that Gamelyn dede. He leet fetre the Iustice · and his false brother, And dede hem come to the barre · that oon with that other. Tho Gamelyn hadde thus y-doon · hadde he no reste, Til he had enquered · who was on the queste For to deme his brother · sir Ote, for to honge; Er he wiste which they were · him thoughte ful longe. But as sone as Gamelyn · wiste wher they were, He dede hem everichone · feteren in-feere, And bringen hem to the barre · and sette hem in rewe; 'By my faith!' seyde the Iustice · 'the scherreve is a schrewe!' Than seyde Gamelyn · to the Iustise, 'Thou hast y-yeve domes · of the wors assise; And the twelve sisours · that weren of the queste, They schul ben hanged this day · so have I good reste!' Thanne seide the scherreve · to yonge Gamelyn, 'Lord, I crye the mercy · brother art thou myn.' 'Therfore,' seyde Gamelyn · 'have thou Cristes curs, For, and thou were maister · yit I schulde have wors.' For to make short tale · and nought to tarie longe, He ordeyned him a queste · of his men so stronge; The Iustice and the scherreve · bothe honged hye, To weyven with the ropes · and with the winde drye; And the twelve sisours · (sorwe have that rekke!) Alle they were hanged · faste by the nekke. Thus ended the false knight · with his treccherye, That ever hadde y-lad his lyf · in falsnes and folye. He was hanged by the nekke · and nought by the purs; That was the meede that he hadde · for his fadres curs.   Sire Ote was eldest · and Gamelyn was ying, They wenten with here frendes · even to the king; They made pees with the king · of the best assise. The king loved wel sir Ote · and made him Iustise. And after, the king made Gamelyn · bothe in est and west, Chief Iustice · of al his free forest; Alle his wighte yonge men · the king foryaf here gilt, And sitthen in good office · the king hem hath y-pilt. Thus wan Gamelyn · his lond and his leede, And wrak him of his enemys · and quitte hem here meede; And sire Ote his brother · made him his heir, And siththen wedded Gamelyn · a wyf bothe good and feyr; They liveden to-gidere · whyl that Crist wolde, And sithen was Gamelyn · graven under molde. And so schal we alle · may ther no man flee: God bringe us to the Ioye · that ever schal be!