[...]
In all the londes of crystyenie
Was none founde so good as he
Whyle he was younge and Iolyfe▪
Wolde syr Guy wedde no wyfe.
But whan he began to elde
Wexed feble and vnwelde
And toke his leue of cheualry
And dwelled in Englonde certaynly
In that tyme kynge Edgar anone.
Sente after syr Guy full sone.
And syt Guy was true and wyce.
And knowen for a knyght of pryce
He made hym hyghe stewarde of his londe.
And what so euer he sayd it sholde stonde.
He kepte well Englonde in his dayes
And set peas and stable layes
That no man was so hardy
To do another velany.
Vpon a daye thought syr Guy
That he wolde wedde some fayre lady
And haue bytwene them some chyldren fayre.
That of theyr londe myght be theyr heyre.
The kynge of Scotlonde in that tyde.
Had a doughter of grete pryde.
The emperours broder of Almayne
Loued
[...]ha
[...] lady, as men sayne
But Guy wedded her god hym saue
And at her fader he dyd her craue
The kynge of scotlonde not for thy
Gaue his doughter vnto syr Guy
Ayenst the wyll of his doughter bryght
She had leuer haue hadde the other knyght.
[Page] For he was yonge and bolde.
And syr Guy was wexen olde
Alas that euer he her to hym chose
His owne lyfe for her to lose.
Syr Guy wedded that lady free.
And brought her home to his countree
So longe to bedde he her ledde.
That a man chylde to gyder they hadde.
Beuys they called that childe bolde.
He was no more but seuyn yere olde.
Whan his fader was slayne
With syr Mordure of almayne
That lady betought her vpon a daye▪
And vnto her selfe ganne she saye
My lorde is olde and maye not wyrche
Alle daye he goth vnto the chyrche
What for breysynge and what for age.
He louech not with me for to rage
But hadde I take a yonge knyght.
That hadde not ben brusyd in fyght.
He wolde me loue both daye and nyght.
And make me all the myrth that he myght
Truly it shall be thus noo whyle.
I shall let sle hym wyth summe gyle
After a messenger the lady sende.
That before he was her frende
And sayd thou shalt on my message.
Thy selfe alone without ony page
With that thou holde it counceyll.
I shall the quyte for thy trauayll
Madame he sayd holde you styll:
For I wyll do all at your wyll.
[Page] My lorde the it sente syr mordure.
To nyght he commyth to thy bourt
This yet tel he sayde is lefe to me.
And tanke syr mordure of his gentre.
And saye I am all at his wyll.
Erly and late londe and styll.
The messenger away thenne wente
And tolde his lorde as she had sent
NOwe wyll we of yonge Beuys tell
Howe woo he was and howe hym be felle.
Alas he sayd all for tene.
That I had not wyth my fader been
To haue holpyn my fader in that stome
Ayenst that fals
[...]
[...]heef syr mordure
To his moder he ran and sayde.
Why haste thou my fader betrayed:
I wyll be wrokyn of his bane.
Alas that euer thou were womane
And all false hores for thy sake
To the denyll of hell I them betake.
But one othe moder I the swere
yf I may euer armes bere
I shall be venged wyth myght and mayne
On them that hathe my fader slayne
His moder his wordes vnderstode.
And gaue hym a buffet vpon the hode.
To the grou
[...]e he fell and that was harme
His mayster toke hym vp by the arme
Men called his mayster syr Sabere
That chylde was to hym left and dere
For Sabere was syr Guyes broder.
In Englonde was not suche an other.
[Page] Home withe th chylde he wente.
The lady after Sabyre sente.
Sabyre she sayd for wele or for wo.
My sone beuye loke that thou slo
For shall I neuer gladde be
That daye that I hym see.
Syr Sabyre was not well apayde
But graunted as the lady sayde.
Home he wente full sory in this wyse.
He toke for wyles and
[...]lewe a gryce
The ryche chyldes clothes fayre and good.
He them bespronge with the blode
Syr Sabere all for drede
Liothed the chylde in poore wede
And sayd beuys it behoueth the to kepe
Vpon the felde all my shepe
Tyll the spousage be brought to an ende
And then wyll we vnto wales wende.
There is an erle sybbe vnto the
Thou shalte there dwelle and with hym be
Whan thou arte wexen and armes may bere
And haue strenght harneys to were
Than thou shalte clayme thyn herytage.
And venge thy fader be thou of aege
And I shall helpe the than to fyght
With dynte of swerde to wynne thy ryght
Therfore my shepe forth thou dryne
That no man knowe thou be on lyue.
And forth he wente with Sabyres shepe
To the felde and sore gan wepe.
Whan beuys was on hygh vpon the downe.
He loked to warde south hampton
[...]