Nowe thankes, nowe thankes, good Sir Gawaine, "And a blessinge be thy meede! "For as I am thine owne ladyè, "Thou never fhalt rue this deede.". Then up they took that lothly Dame, And when they were in wed-bed laid, And all were done awaye : -"Come turne to mee, mine owne wed-lord, "Come turne to mee I praye." Sir Gawaine fcant could lift his head, For forrowe and for care; When, lo! instead of that lothelye Dame, Sweet blushes ftayn'd her rud-red cheeke, eyen were blacke as floe : Her The ripening cherrye fwellde her lippe, Sir Gawaine kifs'd that Lady faire, Lying upon the sheete : And fwore, as he was a true Knighte, The spice was never foe sweete. Sir Gawaine kifs'd that Lady brighte, The fairest flower is not foe faire : "I am thy bride, mine owne deare Lorde, "The fame whiche thou didst knowe, "That was foe lothlye, and was wont "Upon the wild more to goe. "Nowe, gentle Gawaine, chufe," quoth fhee, "To have thee foule ftill in the night, "When I with thee fhould playe! "I had rather farre, my lady deare, "To have thee foule by daye."- -"What, when gaye ladyes goe with their lordes "To drinke the ale and wine; "Alas! then I must hide myself, "I must not goe with mine ?" -"My faire ladyè," Sir Gawaine fayd, " I yield me to thy fkille; "Because thou art mine owne ladyè "Thou shalt have all thy wille." Nowe Nowe bleffed be thou, fweete Gawàine, "And the daye that I thee fee; "For as thou feeft mee at this time, "Soe fhall I ever bee. "My father was an aged knighte, "And yet it chanced foe, "He tooke to wife a falfe ladyè, "Whiche broughte me to this woe. "Shee witch'd mee, being a faire yonge maide, "In the greene forèft to dwelle; "And there to abyde in lothlye shape, "Moft like a fiend of helle. "Midft mores, and moffes; woods, and wilds; "To lead a lonesome life: "Till fome yong faire and courtlye knighte "Wolde marrye me to his wife : "Nor fully to gaine mine owne trewe shape, "Such was her devilish skille; "Until he wolde yielde to be ruled by mee, "And let mee have all my wille. "She witchd my brother to a carlish boore, "And made him ftiffe and stronge: « And built him a bowre on magicke grounde, "To live by rapine and wronge. "But "But now the fpelle is broken throughe, "And wronge is turnde to righte; "Henceforth I fhall be a faire ladyè, "And hee be a gentle knighte." No. XLVI. KING ARTHUR'S DEATH. A FRAGMENT. From "Percy's Reliques of Ancient English Poetry." ON Trinitye Mondaye in the morne, Ere the rff crowinge of the cocke, * When as the Kinge in his bed laye, Nowe, as you are mine unkle deare, "And as you prize your life, this daye "O meet not with your foe in fighte: "Putt off the battayle, if yee maye ; Sir Gawaine had been killed at Arthur's landing, on his return from abroad. |