THE

MARRIAGE OF SIR GAWAINE.

THE original of this story is supposed to be as old as the beginning of the fourteenth century, and to have supplied Chaucer with a theme for one of his tales-"The Wife's Tale." As it stands here, it contains all the amendments and supplementary stanzas by Dr. Percy; every alternate leaf, containing nine stanzas, being wanting in his folio MS. As a general answer, however, to all the charges against him, he has printed the old fragment literally and exactly at the end of his first volume," that such austere antiquaries as complain that the ancient copies have not been always rigidly adhered to, may see how unfit for publication many of the pieces would have been, if all the blunders, corruptions, and nonsense of illiterate reciters and transcribers had been superstitiously retained, without some attempt to correct and amend them." It should be added, that on a comparison of the two, there is as little difference as could be expected or wished.

KING Arthur lives in merry Carlile,
And seemly is to see,

And there with him Queen Guenever,
That bride so bright of blee.

And there with him Queen Guenever,
That bride so bright in bower,
And all his barons about him stood,

That were both stiff and stower.

The king a royal Christmass kept,
With mirth and princely cheer;
To him repaired many a knight,
That came both far and near.

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

A boon! a boon! O King Arthur!
I beg a boon of thee-
Avenge me of a carlish knight,

Who hath shent my love and me.

At Tearn-Wadling* his castle stands,
Near to that lake so fair,

And proudly rise the battlements,
And streamers deck the air.

No gentle knight, nor lady gay,
May pass that castle wall,

But from that foul discourteous knight
Mishap will them befall.

He's twice the size of common men,

With thews and sinews strong!
And on his back he bears a club,
That is both thick and long.

This grim baron 'twas our hard hap
But yester morn to see,

When to his bower he bare my love,

And sore misused me.

*Tearn (i. e. lake) Wadling is a small lake, near Hesketh in Cumberland, on the road from Penrith to Carlisle. It is reported that the remains of au old castle, near the lake, were visible at no remote period.-Dr. PERCY.

And when I told him, King Arthur
As little should him spare-
Go tell, said he, that cuckold king
To meet me if he dare.

Up then started King Arthur,
And sware by hill and dale,
He never would quit that grim baron
Till he had made him quail.

Go fetch my sword Excalibar!
Go saddle me my steed-
Now, by my faith, that grim baron
Shall rue this ruthful deed.

And when he came to Tearn-Wadling,
Beneath the castle wall,—

Come forth! come forth! thou proud baron,
Or yield thyself my thrall.

On magic ground that castle stood,
And fenced with many a spell;

No valiant knight could tread thereon,
But strait, his courage fell.

Forth then rushed that carlish knight—
King Arthur felt the charm;

His sturdy sinews lost their strength,
Down sunk his feeble arm.

Now yield thee! yield thee! King Arthur—

Now yield thee unto me;

Or fight with me, or lose thy land,

No better terms may be.

Unless thou swear upon the Rood,

And promise on thy faye,
Here to return to Tearn-Wadling,

Upon the New Year's day.

And bring me word what thing it is
All women most desire-

This is thy ransom, Arthur,-he says,
I'll have no other hire.

King Arthur then held up his hand,
And sware upon his faye;

Then took his leave of the grim baron,

And fast he rode away.

And he rode east, and he rode west,

And did of all inquire,

What thing it is all women crave,
And what they most desire.

Some told him riches, pomp, or state-
Some raiment fine and bright,-
Some told him mirth, some flattery,-
And some a gallant knight.

In letters all King Arthur wrote,
And sealed them with his ring,
But still his mind was held in doubt-
Each told a different thing.

As ruthful he rode over a moor,

He saw a lady sit,

Between an oak and a green holly,

All clad in red scarlet.*

Her nose was crooked and turned outward,

Her chin stood all awry,

"This was a common phrase in our old writers. So Chaucer,

Her hosen were of fyne scarlet red.'"

DR. PERCY.

It is not improbable that scarlet might have been originally the name of a stuff, and afterwards come to be considered as a particular colour. Such was undoubtedly the case with crimson, or crimosin, as we read of purple and white crimson.

And where as should have been her mouth,
Lo! there was set her eye.

Her hair, like serpents, clung about
Her cheeks of deadly hue;

A worse-formed lady than she was

No man mote ever view.

To hail the king in seemly sort,
This lady was full fain;
But King Arthur, all amazed,
No answer made again.

What wight art thou, the lady said,
That wilt not speak to me?
Sir, I may chance to ease thy pain,
Though I be foul to see.

If thou wilt ease my pain he said,
And help me in my need,
Ask what thou wilt, thou grim lady!
And it shall be thy meed.

O swear me this upon the rood,
And promise on thy faye,
And here the secret I will tell,
That shall thy ransom pay.

King Arthur promised on his faith,
And sware upon the rood-
The secret then the lady told,
As lightly well she could.

Now this shall be my pay, Sir King,

And this my guerdon be,

That some young fair and courtly knight
Thou bring to marry me.

Fast then pricked King Arthur,
O'er hill, and dale, and down,