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As pe foll had ftond in rayne,

The keu'yd he hym fyr Gawene,

Wtt his mättell of grene.

G.1" ftond vpe fooll, & eette thy mette,
We spend her þat thy maft dothe gett,
Whyll pt we her9 byne;"

The Carle ftode hym faft by,

And pankyd hy full curtteflye,

[fol. 20b.] Manny fythis, I wene.

Be pt tyme her fop was redy dyst,
The tabull w hovfe vpe afi hyat,
I-cowert they wer? full tyte;
Forth wtt þi wolde not blyne,

The beffchope gã pe tabull begynne,
Wtt a gret de-lytte.

f Key was fett of pe top fyde,

A-zenft pe Carll wyfe fo futt of pryde,
That was fo feyr & whytte;

Her arm fmatt, her? mydyll gent,
Her9

yzen grey,

her brow bente,

Of curtteffy sche was pfette.

Her roode was reede, her chek rounde,

1 G. fayd?

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Wtt feche a foulle weztht!"

"Sytt ftyll," quod pe Carl, " & cete pi mette,

[fol.21.] Thow pinkoft mor? pe pu darst speke,

Sertten Į the hyɔ̃t."

I do yow all well to wette,

Ther was noo mã bade G. fitte,
But in pe halle flor? gän he stonde;
The Carle sayde, "fellowe, a-noñ,
Loke my byddynge be well i-donñ,
Go take a fper in thy honde.
And at pe bottre dor? goo

take thy paffe,
And hitt me evyn in the face,

Do as I the commande;

And зeyfe pu ber❞ me a-zenst þe watt,
Thow fchalt not hort me wtt alle,

Whyll I am gyaūt in londe.”

Syr Gawen was a glade man wtt þt,
At pe bottre dor9 a sper he gatte,
And in his honde hit hente;
Syr G. came wtt a gret ire,
Doun he helde his hede pat fyre,
Tyll he hade geue his dentte2.
He zafe pe fton watt feche a rappe,
That pe goode fper att to-brake,
The fyer flewe out of pe flente;
[fol. 21.] The Carl fayde to hym ful foñe,
"Gentyй knyžt, pu haft well donne."

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And be pe honde hyme hente.
A cher was fette, for f Gawene,
That worthy knyst of Bryttayne,
Befor? be Carll wyfe was he fett;
So moche his love was on her lyžt,
Of att pe fop he ne myst,
Nodyr drynke nor" ette.

The Carle fayde, "G. comfort pe,
For fynn ys fwete, & pt I fe,
Serten I the hete;

Sche ys myñ þu woldyft w thynn,
Leve feche postt, & drenke pe wynne,
For her pu fchalt nott geytt."
Syr G. was a-fchemyde i his powst,
The Carll dovĝtt forthe was brovžt,
That was fo feyr and bryst ;

As gold wyre fchynyde her here,
Hit coft a Mli. and mar,
Her a-parrett pertly pyžte.
Wtt ryche ftonn her clop w❞ fett,
Utt ryche perll9 a-bout her frete,

[fol. 22.] So femly was that fyste;

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Ouyr att þe hatt gañ sche leme,

As hit wer a fon'-beme,

That ftonn fchone so bryst.

Then feyde pe Carle to pt bryst of ble,

"Uher ys þi harpe pu fchuldift have brožt wt pe,

Uhy haft þu hit for-gette?"

A-non hit was fett in to pe hatt,

And a feyr cher? wtt all,

Be-for her fador was fett.
The harpe was of mafer? fyne,

The pynys wer' of golde, I wene,
Serten wtt out lett;

Furft fche harpyd, & fethe fonge,
Of love, & of Artorr arm
a-monge,

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How þey to-geydor' mett.

Uhe they hade fovpyde, & mad hem glade,

The befchope i to his chambur? was lade,

Utt hym f Key þe kene;

They toke f G. wtt out leffynge,

To pe Carl chab þi gã hy brynge,
That was fo bryst and fchene.

They bade f G. go to bede,

[fol. 22b.] Utt clothe of golde fo feyr fprede,
That was fo feyr and bryst;

Uhe pe bed was made wtt wynne,
The Carle bade his oun lady go in,
That loufefom was of fyžte.
A fquyer came wtt a p'wey far",
And he vn-armyde Gawen þer",
Schaply he was vn-dyzt;

The Carle feyde, "fyr Gawene,

Go take my wyfe i pi arm tweyne,
And kys her in my fyzte."

Syr G. anffwerde hyme a-non,

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Syr, þi byddynge fchaft be donne,
Sertaynly in dede;

Kyff, or fley, or laye a-doune,”

To the bede he went futt fone,

Faft and that good fpede.

For foftnis of pt ladys fyde,

Made G. do his wył pt tyde,

Ther of G. toke pe Carle goode hede;
Uhe G. wolde haue doñ pe p'vey far,
The feyd pe Carle, "whoo ther"!

That game I pe for-bede.

[fol. 23.] But G. fethe pu haft do my byddynge,

Som kyndnis I most schewe pe i any pinge,
As fer forthe as I maye;

Thow schalt have wonn to fo bryst,

Schalt play wtt þe all pis nyžte,

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وو

Of all that her hathe beñe ;—'
Syr Key a-rose vppon pe morrowñ,
And toke his hors, & wolde a-goñe,
Homwarde, as I wenne.

"Nay, f Key," be befchope gañ feye,
"We woll not fo wende our waye,
Tyll we f G. have fene;"

The Carlt a-rofe, on morrow a-non,
And fond his byddynge reddy doune,
His dyner' i-dyst full cleyne.

To a mas they lett knelle,
Syr' G. a-rofe, & went per ty,

And kyft þat lady bryžt & cler';

1 Ne, MS.

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