Craddocke wan the horne,
And the bores head:

His ladie wan the mantle
Unto her meede.

Everye such a lovely ladye

God send her well to speede.

195

II.

The Marriage of Sir Gawaine

is chiefly taken from the fragment of an old ballad in the Editor's MS. which he has reason to believe more ancient than the time of Chaucer, and what furnished that bard with his Wife of Bath's Tale. The original was so extremely mutilated, half of every leaf being torn away, that without large supplements, &c., it was deemed improper for this collection: these it has therefore received, such as they are. They are not here particularly pointed out, because the Fragment itself will now be found printed at the end of this volume.

"A boone, a boone, O Kinge Arthùre,

I beg a boone of thee;

Avenge me of a carlish knighte,

Who hath shent my love and mee.

20

"At Tearne-Wadling 1 his castle stands,
Near to that lake so fair,

He ne'er wolde quitt that grimme baròne,

Till he had made him quail.

"Goe fetch my sword Excalibar,

Goe saddle mee my steede;

Nowe, by my faye, that grimme baròne

Shall rue this ruthfulle deede."

45

1 Tearne- Wadling is the name of a small lake near Hesketh in Cumberland, on the road from Penrith to Carlisle. There is a tradition, that an old castle once stood near the lake, the remains of which were not long since visible. Tearn, in the dialect of that country, signifies a small lake, and is still in use.

VOL. II.

I

And when he came to Tearne-Wadlinge

Benethe the castle walle:

50

"Come forth, come forth, thou proude baròne,

Or yielde thyself my thralle."

On magicke grounde that castle stoode,
And fenc'd with many a spelle:

Noe valiant knighte could tread thereon,
But straite his courage felle.

55

Forth then rush'd that carlish knight,

King Arthur felte the charme :

His sturdy sinewes lost their strengthe,

Downe sunke his feeble arme.

60

"Nowe yield thee, yield thee, Kinge Arthure,

"And bringe me worde what thing it is All women moste desyre :

70

This is thy ransome, Arthur," he sayes,

"Ile have noe other hyre."

Some told him riches, pompe, or state;
Some rayment fine and brighte;

Some told him mirthe; some flatterye ;
And some a jollye knighte.

Her nose was crookt and turned outwàrde,
Her chin stoode all awrye;

"What wight art thou," the ladye sayd,

105

“That wilt not speake to mee;

Sir, I may chance to ease thy paine,
Though I bee foule to see."

2 This was a common phrase in our old writers; so Chaucer, in his Prologue to the Cant. Tales, says of the Wife of Bath:

"Her hosen were of fyne scarlet red."