He took her by the hand anon,

370

And some that had been brought thereto, 375
They seemed dead yet were not so,
And there among them lay his wife,
That he loved as his own life;

There was great joy amongst them all.

380

With right good will they out are gone,
And fast they hied from that paláce,
And went their way through Goddes grace;
Into the wilds they both are gone,
O'er holt and heath they journey on.
And so they take their way full fast,
And to Crasséns they come at last,
That sometime was her own citíe,
But no man wist that it was he.
With beggar poor of humblest life
A space he tarried with his wife.
He asked tidings of the land,
And who the kingdom had in hand.
The humble beggar in his cote,
Answering, told him every grote;

How that the Queen was fetched away

Then said the King: "And what art thou,

To the land of faerie on a day,

Who come into my presence now? Myself nor none that is with me,

And how the King did after go,

But to what place no man can know.

Have ever yet sent after thee.

The Steward, he says, the land doth hold;

Since I this kingdom first began
I have not found so brave a man
Who hither dared to come or wend,
Save that I after him should send."
"Sir," he said, "I trow full weel,
I hold it sooth, sir, every deal,

395

So, many tidings he them told.

The morrow at the noone tide

It is the custom of us all

To come to every lordės hall,

Many a man him came to see,

Men and wives and maidens fair,

And though we may not welcome be,
Proffer we must our game or glee."
Before the King he sat him down,
And took his harp of merry soun,
And straightway as full well he can,
Many blithe notes he then began.
The King looked up and sat full still,
To hear his harping he had good will.
When he had ceased from his harping,
Then said to him that riche King:
"Minstrel, me liketh well thy glee;
Whatever thing thou ask of me,
Freely now I will thee pay,
Therefore, ask now, and assay."
"Lord," he said, "I beg of thee,
If that it shall your pleasure be,
Give me that lady bright of ble, 2
That lies beneath yon ympė tree."
"Nay," he said, "that may I ne'er,
For ye would be a sorry pair;
Thou art all shaggy, rough, and black,
And she is made withouten lack.

Then was there music in the hall,
But Orpheo sat against the wall.
When all are still, the music done,
He took his harp of sounding tone,
And fast on it he played the glee;
The Steward looked, and 'gan to see,
For well he knew that harp belive;25
24 Many times.
26 Quickly.

And fey I'll fall adoun.

A happy lot to me is sent, etc.

Nights I toss and watch and wake,
Until my visage waxeth wan;
Lady, all is for thy sake

Longing comes to me alone.

On earth there's none so learned grown

That he her virtues can make known.

Her neck is whiter than the swan,

Or fairest maid in town.

A happy lot to me is sent, etc.

With love I'm worn and watchings late,
Weary as water in a weir,

Lest any rob me of my mate.
I have heard it said of yore,

Better to bear awhile a sore
Than mourn forevermore.
Fairest earth e'er bore,

Hearken to my rune:

The crimson rose is seen,

New leaves of tender green

The moon shines white and clear,

And fixed on Alysoun.

Each creature seeks his kind.

As stream that trickles slow,

A happy lot to me is sent,

I know from heaven 'tis to me lent, From women all my love is bent

We plain when life is drear, For cruel love the tear

In her own speech to sing.

In days of March and Averil 1 When the spray begins to spring, Each little bird hath her own will

And I-I live in love longing

With lovesome eyes so large and good
With blissful brows beneath her hood,
He that once hung upon the Rood
Her life holds in honóur.

Blow, Northern Wind,

Send thou me my sweeting

Blow, Northern Wind, blow, blow, blow.

She sheds a radiance bright,

Her neck is slender to enfold,

Her loving arms bring joy untold,
Her little hands are soft to hold,

Would God that she were mine.

Blow, Northern Wind,

Send thou me my sweeting

Blow, Northern Wind, blow, blow, blow.

Distracted, mad.

20

20

30

30

1 Bower.

5

Full of Godės grace,

Be thou, Mary,

And queen of all mercy! All that are to greets

Without deadly sin,

Forty dayes of pardoún
God granteth them.

15

20

A DESCRIPTION OF WILLIAM THE

CONQUEROR

(From the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, translated by J. A. GILES)

If any would know what manner of man King William was, the glory that he obtained, and of how many lands he was lord; then will we describe him as we have known him, we, 5 who have looked upon him, and who once lived in his court. This King William, of whom we are speaking, was a very wise and a great man, and more honored and more powerful than any of his predecessors. He was mild to those good 10 men who loved God, but severe beyond measure towards those who withstood his will. He founded a noble monastery on the spot where God permitted him to conquer England, and he established monks in it, and he made it very 15 rich. In his days the great monastery at 1 Hail star of the sea.

3 Yet ever a virgin.

2 Dear Mother of God.
4 Blessed gate of heaven.

To supplicate, to greet Mary with an Ave.

The portion of the Chronicle given here is included in the entry for 1087: the year of the death of William the Conqueror. The passage is presumably the work of a contemporary who writes (as he declares) from personal knowledge.