And bad them take no greffe, Bot all with loue and with leffe, Euery man ...[L135] with other; 135 Ffor after mete, without distans, The cockwolds schuld together danse, Euery man with hys brother.
Than began a nobull game: The cockwolds together came 140 Befor the erle and the kyng; In skerlet kyrtells over one, The cokwoldes stodyn euerychon, Redy vnto the dansyng.
Than seyd the kyng in hye, 145 "Go fyll my bugyll hastely, And bryng it to my hond.
I wyll asey with a gyne All the cokwolds that her is in; To know them wyll I fond." 150
Than seyd the erle, "for charyte, In what skyll, tell me, A cokwold may I know?"
To the erle the kyng ansuerd, "Syr, be myn hore berd, 155 Thou schall se within a throw."
The bugyll was brought the kyng to hond.
Then seyd the kyng, "I vnderstond, Thys horne that [z]e here se, Ther is no cockwold, fer ne nere, 160 Here of to drynke hath no power, As wyde as Crystiante,
"Bot he schall spyll on euery syde; Ffor any cas that may betyde, Schall non therof avanse." 165 And [z]it, for all hys grete honour, Hymselfe, noble kyng Arthour, Hath forteynd syche a chans.
"Syr erle," he seyd, "take and begyn."
He seyd; "nay, be seynt Austyn, 170 That wer to me vylony; Not for all a reme to wyn, Befor you I schuld begyn, Ffor honour off my curtassy."
Kyng Arthour ther he toke the horn, 175 And dyde as he was wont beforn, Bot ther was [z]it gon a gyle: [L178]He wend to haue dronke of the best, Bot sone he spyllyd on hys brest, Within a lytell whyle. 180
The cokwoldes lokyd iche on other, And thought the kyng was their own brother, And glad thei wer of that: "He hath vs scornyd many a tyme, And now he is a cokwold fyne, 185 To were a cokwoldes hate."
The quene was therof schamyd sore; Sche changyd hyr colour lesse and more, And wold haue ben a wey.
Therwith the kyng gan hyr behold, 190 And seyd he schuld neuer be so bold, The soth agene to sey.
"Cokwoldes no mour I wyll repreue, Ffor I ame ane, and aske no leue, Ffor all my rentes and londys. 195 Lordyngs, all now may [z]e know That I may dance in the cokwold row, And take [z]ou by the handes."
Than seyd thei all at a word, That cokwoldes schuld begynne the bord, 200 And sytt hyest in the halle.
"Go we, lordyngs, all [and] same, And dance to make vs gle and game, Ffor cokwolds have no galle."
And after that sone anon, 205 The kyng causyd the cokwolds ychon To wesch withouten les; Ffor ought that euer may betyde, He sett them by hys awne syde, Vp at the hy[z]e dese. 210
The kyng hymselff a gurlond fette; Uppon hys hede he it sette, Ffor it myght be non other, And seyd, "Lordyngs, sykerly, We be all off a freyry; 215 I ame [z]our awne brother.
"Be Jhesu Cryst that is aboffe, That man aught me gode loffe That ley by my quene: I wer worthy hym to honour, 220 Both in castell and in towre, With rede, skerlet and grene.
"Ffor him he helpyd, when I was forth, To cher my wyfe and make her myrth; Ffor women louys wele pley; 225 And therfor, serys, have [z]e no dowte Bot many schall dance in the cokwoldes rowte, Both by nyght and dey.
"And therefor, lordyngs, take no care; Make we mery; for nothing spare; 230 All brether in one rowte."
Than the cokwoldes wer full blythe, And thankyd God a hundred syth, Ffor soth withouten dowte.
Every cokwold seyd to other, 235 "Kyng Arthour is our awne brother, Therfor we may be blyth:"
The erle off Glowsytur verament, Toke hys leve, and home he wente, And thankyd the kyng fele sythe. 240
Kyng Arthour lived at Karlyon[L241], With hys cokwolds euerychon, And made both gam and gle: * * * * *
* * * * *[L243]
A knyght ther was withouten les, That seruyd at the kyngs des, 245 Syr Corneus hyght he; He made this gest in hys gam, And named it after hys awne name, In herpyng or other gle.
And after, nobull kyng Arthour 250 Lyued and dyed with honour, As many hath don senne, Both cokwoldes and other mo: God gyff vs grace that we may go To heuyn! Amen, Amen.
26, sette. See 59, 211.
38, sett.
56, brothers.
98, spake.
115, MS. baskefysyke.
135, word wanting.
178, Bot he.
241, left at Skarlyon.
243, Three lines omitted in MS.
FRAGMENT OF THE MARRIAGE OF SIR GAWAINE.
From Percys _Reliques_, iii. 403.
This is one of the few ballads contained in the Percy MS., which we have the pleasure of possessing as it is there written. Having first submitted an improved copy, "with large conjectural supplements and corrections," Percy added this old fragment at the end of the volume: "literally and exactly printed, with all its defects, inaccuracies, and errata," in order, as he triumphantly remarks, "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."
"This ballad," the Editor of the _Reliques_ goes on to say, "has most unfortunately suffered by having half of every leaf in this part of the MS. torn away; and, as about nine stanzas generally occur in the half-page now remaining, it is concluded that the other half contained nearly the same number of stanzas." The story may be seen, unmutilated and in an older form, in Madden's _Syr Gawayne_, p. 298, _The Weddynge of Syr Gawen and Dame Ragnell_.
The transformation on which the story turns is found also in Chaucer's _Wife of Bath's Tale_, in Gower's tale of _Florent and the King of Sicily's Daughter_; (_Confessio Amantis_, Book I.) in the ballad of _King Henry_ (page 147 of this volume); and in an Icelandic saga of the Danish king Helgius, quoted by Scott in his illustrations to _King Henry, Minstrelsy_, iii. 274.
Voltaire has employed the same idea in his _Ce qui plait aux Dames_, but whence he borrowed it we are unable to say.
Worked over by some ballad-monger of the sixteenth century, and of course reduced to dish-water, this tale has found its way into _The Crown Garland of Golden Roses_, Part I. p. 68 (Percy Society, vol.
vi.), _Of a Knight and a Faire Virgin_.
Kinge Arthur liues in merry Carleile, And seemely is to see; And there he hath with him Queene Genever, That bride so bright of blee.
And there he hath with him Queene Genever, 5 That bride soe bright in bower; And all his barons about him stoode, That were both stiffe and stowre.
The King kept a royall Christmasse, Of mirth & great honor; 10 ... when ...
[_About nine stanzas wanting._]
"And bring me word what thing it is That women[L13] most desire; This shalbe thy ransome, Arthur," he sayes, "For Ile haue no other hier." 15