Illustrations of the fairy mythology of 'A midsummer night's dream' / edited by J.O. Halliwell.

Date:
1845
    And oo mayde thys wordes spak To tlie kyng Artour,— 44 Thyn halle agrayde, and hele the walles With clodes and with ryche palles, Ajens my Lady TryamourA The kyng answerede bedene, 44 Welle-come, ye maydenes schene, Be our Lord the SavyoureA He commaundede Launcelot du Lake to brynge hem yn fere In the chamber tlier liar felawes were, With merthe and moclie honour. A noon the quene suppose gyle, That Launfal schulle yn a whyle Be y-made quyt and skere, Thoru} hys lemman that was commynge ; Anon sche seyde to Artour the kyng, 44 Syre, curtays yf [thou] were, Or yf thou lovedest thyn honoure, I schuld be awreke of that traytoure, That doth me changy chere ; To Launfal thou schuldest not spare, Thy barouns dryveth the to bysmare, He ys hem lef and dereA And as the quene spak to the kyng, The barouns seyj come rydynge A damesele alone, Upoon a whyt comely palfrey, They saw nevere non so gay Upon the grounde gone. Gentylie, jolyf, as bryd on bowe, In alle manere fayr i-nowe To wonye yn worldly wone ; The lady was bry3t as blosme on brere, With eyen gray, with lovely ch chere,
    •A Her leyre ly31 schoone. As rose on rys lier rode was red, The her schon upon here hed, As gold wyre that schynyth bryjt, Sche hadde a croune upon here molde, Of ryche stones and of golde, That lofsorn lemede ly3t. The lady was clad yn purpere palle, With gentylle body and myddylle smalle, That semely was of sy3t ; Her mantylle was furryth with whyt ermyn, I-reversyd jolyf and fyn, No rychere be ne my3t. The sadelle was semyly sett, The sambus wer grene felvet, I-paynted with ymagerye ; The hordure was of belles, Of ryche gold and nothyng elles, That any man my3te aspye. In the arsouns, before and behynde, Were twey stones of Ynde, Gay for the maystrye ; The paytrelle of her palfraye Was worth an erldome stoute and gay, The best yn Lumbardye. A gerfawcon sche bar on here bond, A softe pas here palfray fond, That men here schuld beholde ; Thoru3 Ivarlyon rood that lady, Twey whyte grehoundys ronne hyr by, Hare colers were of golde. And whan Launfal sawe that lady, To alle the folk he gon crye an hy, Bothe to yonge and olde, “ Her,” he seyde, “ comyth my lemman swete,
    Sclie mj3te me of my balys bete, 3ef that lady woldeA Forth sche wente ynto the halle, Ther was the queue and the ladyes alle, And also kyng Artoure ; Her may denes come ayens her ry3t, To take here styrop whan sche ly3t, Of the lady dame Tryamoure. Sche dede of her mantylle on the flet, That men schuld her beholde the bet, Wythoute a more sojour ; Kyng Artoure gan here fayre grete, And sche hym agayn with wordes swete, That were of greet valoure. Up stod the queue and ladyes stoute, Her for to beholde alle aboute, How evene sche stod upry3t; Than wer they wyth her also donne, As ys the mone ayen the sonne A-day whan hyt ys ly3t. Than seyde sche to Artour the kyng, 44 Syr, hydyr I com for swych a thyng, To skere Launfal the knyjt, That he never, yn no folye, Besofte the quene of no drurye, Be dayes ne be ny3t. Therfor, syr kyng, good kepe thou myne, He bad na3t her, but sche bad hym, Here lemman for to be ; And he answerede her and seyde, That liys lemmannes lothlokest mayde Was fayryr than was sche A Kyng Artour seyde, withouten othe, “ Ech man mav y-se that ys sothe. Bry3tere tliat ye be."*
    o9 With that dame Tryamour to the queue geth, And blew on her swych a breth, That never eft my3t sche se. The lady lep an hyre palfray, And bad hem alle have good day, Sche nolde no lengere abyde ; With that com Gyfre alle so prest, With Launfalys stede out of the forest And stod Launfal besyde. The kny31 to horse began to sprynge Anoon wytliout any lettynge, Wyth hys lemman away to ryde ; The lady tok her maydenys achon, And wente the way that sche hadde er gon, With solas and wyth pryde. The lady rod dorth Oardevyle, Fere ynto a jolyf ile, Olyroun that hy3te; Every 3er upon a certayn day, Me[n] may here Launfales stede nay, And hym se with sy3t. Ho that wylle there axsy justus, To kepe hys armes fro the rustus, In turnement other fy^t. Dare he never forther gon, Ther he may fynde justes anoon, With syr Launfal the kny3t. Thus Launfal, withouten fable, That noble kny3t of the rounde table, Was take yn-to fayrye ; Seththe saw hym yn this lond no man, Ne no more of hym telle y ne can, For sothe, without lve. Thomas Chestre made thys tale, Of the noble knyjt syr Launfale, D
    Good of chyvalrye. Jhesus, that ys lievene kyng, Yeve us alle hys blessyng, And hys modyr Marye ! Amen. Explicit Launfal. One leaf of Kynge’s edition of Launfal is preserved in Douce’s collection, and the whole of it is reprinted in the recent catalogue of that library, p. 311. It is in couplets, and agrees very nearly with the Rawlinson MS. I am at a loss to understand why the compiler of the Douce catalogue should conjecture this fragment to be “ paid of a translation of Syr Perceval,’’" with which it has clearty nothing in common, or “a portion of an earlier version of Launfal than that in Ritson,"" for the style of Ritson’s copy is decidedly more ancient than that in the Rawlinson MS., or the printed fragment. Percy mentions another copy in his folio MS. The llawlinson MS. commences as follows:— Sothly by Arthurys day Was Bretayne yn grete nobyle, For yn hys tyme a grete whyle He sojourned at Carlile ; He had with hyme a meyne there, As he had ellys where, Of the rounde table the kylightes alle, With myrth and joye yn hys halle. The following extract from another part of the same MS. will prove the identity of the version with that of the Douce fragment:— Thise xij. wist, withouten wene, Alle the maner of the queue ;