III

Ȝet quyl al-hal-day with Arþer he lenges,

& he made a fare on þat fest, for þe frekeȝ sake,

With much reuel & ryche of þe rounde table;

Knyȝteȝ ful cortays & comlych ladies,

Al for luf of þat lede in longynge þay were,

Bot neuer-þe-lece ne þe later þay neuened bot merþe,

Mony ioyleȝ for þat ientyle iapeȝ þer maden.

For aftter mete, with mournyng he meleȝ to his eme,

& spekeȝ of his passage, & pertly he sayde,

"Now, lege lorde of my lyf, leue I yow ask;

ȝe knowe þe cost of þis cace, kepe I no more

To telle yow teneȝ þer-of neuer bot trifel;

Bot I am boun to þe bur barely to morne,

To sech þe gome of þe grene, as god wyl me wysse."

Þenne þe best of þe burȝ boȝed to-geder,

Aywan, & Errik, & oþer ful mony,

Sir Doddinaual de Sauage, þe duk of Clarence,

Launcelot, & Lyonel, & Lucan þe gode,

Sir Boos, & sir Byduer, big men boþe,

& mony oþer menskful, with Mador de la Port.

Alle þis compayny of court com þe kyng nerre,

For to counseyl þe knyȝt, with care at her hert;

Þere watȝ much derue doel driuen in þe sale,

Þat so worthe as Wawan schulde wende on þat ernde,

To dryȝe a delful dynt, & dele no more

wyth bronde.
Þe knyȝt mad ay god chere,
& sayde, "quat schuld I wonde,
Of destines derf & dere,
What may mon do bot fonde?"

derne (?).