Morien: A Metrical Romance Rendered into English Prose from the Mediæval DutchWeston, Jessie L. (Jessie Laidlay)
General
Morien: A Metrical Romance Rendered into English Prose from the Mediæval Dutch
Weston, Jessie L. (Jessie Laidlay)
Arthurian romances; Moriaen -- Romances
Then spake the knight Morien and said by his troth he had even followed
the hoof prints of horses that were but newly made till he came to where
one must needs cross over the water; "and then did I lose all sign of
their further track; but howsoever I might pray, or call upon those who
lay there in their ships, when they saw me they were terrified as hares,
and would tell me nought, the fools, of that I asked them! One and all
fled, and put them out to sea. Methinks they were afraid of me. But by
the faith that I owe to God and Our Lady, and the honour of knighthood,
it shall avail them naught that they thus refuse me; I shall turn again
from here, and otherwise take my way; may I but find on shore one of
those who were there, and who belongeth to the ships, in sooth he were
born in an evil hour! An he carry me not over the water I will thrust
him through with my spear, or deal him such a stroke with my sword, that
he shall fall dead upon the earth. My heart forbode me that he who went
before me was my father! But in all my journey I met no living soul of
whom I might ask aught. Then I began to wax fearful, for hunger beset
me, and therein I found neither man nor woman, nor aught but heather
and waste land wherein I was a stranger. No man might I see or hear, no
wheat or barley grew there; 'tis the truth I tell ye, thither cometh no
man save that he desire to cross the wide water in the ships that there
lie ready. Thus had I my pain for naught. But whatsoe'er befall me since
that I have heard from our host, that good man, that my father in sooth
rode that way I shall follow hard after, if so be that I may but cross
over, and will but await tomorrow's dawn. Since that I have heard he
rideth not so far ahead I may well overtake him, an my steed, which is
so swift, and strong, and good, foil me not!"
"God speed ye!" quoth Sir Gawain. Such was indeed his counsel, and he
sore lamented his own evil plight. But ill had it chanced with him;
within the castle had they stolen from him his good sword wherewith
he should defend himself. God give him shame who stole it! His
saddle-girth, his stirrup-leathers, were cut midway through; as he
thought to sit upon his steed they brake clean in twain, and left him
standing upon his feet. This did Sir Gawain tell them there, even as
ye have heard aforetime. If his heart were heavy when he took count of
this, 'twas small marvel!
Then did they wash Sir Gawain's limbs, and he himself searched his
wounds. So good a leech might no man find since the day of Mother Eve as
was Sir Gawain; whatever wound he tended, 'twas healed even as ye looked
upon it!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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