56 60 64 68 72 believe thyself thou shalt not did 13 felled 15 smote many easily death 19 heard 5 slay 14 hence 10 then against so many 20 took pagans 21 did kill 22 there might not live 23 foreigner Of men he had too few. Swords in hand they took And together struck. They smote so under shield The pagans came to land As Christ would have it be. The pagans wished to slay him 24 kinsman 52 56 бо 64 68 72 77 80 84 888 92 25 unless they forsook their faith 26 theirs 27 she wept 28 29 yet See note on 1. 16. 32 30 she 31 pagans' prohibition 33 knew 34 prayed 35 companions 36 fairness 37 38 slay flay alive Armes heo gan buge; 16 456 lot. I come of thralls, God wot; Betwixt a thrall and a king." Rymenhild was grieved thereby And sore began to sigh. 452 Adun he 17 feol iswoge.18 Horn in herte was ful wo, Her arms slipped strengthless down, And there she fell a-swown. 456 And tok hire on his armes two. He gan hire for to kesse, Horn such woe could nowise brook 460 And in his arms the maiden took. 460 Wel ofte mid ywisse.19 "Lemman, "20 he sede, "dere, Thin herte nu thu stere.21 464 Help me to knigte, Bi al thine migte, To my lord the king, Thanne is mi thralhod Iwent 22 in to knigthod, And i schal wexe more, That he me yive dubbing. And do, lemman, thi lore." 23 25 Are come seve nigt. Have her this cuppe, 1 skin, rug 2 fill 3 neck 4 kissed 7 plight 12 8 direct 9 give suit nature 13 468 472 476 10 chanced 11 sigh spouse 14 bound 15 it would not pleased 6 pity 16 did bow And then he did her kiss, Thy heart now must thou steer. That he me grant dubbing. Rymenhild, that sweetest thing, 9 NICHOLAS DE GUILDFORD (?) (fl. 1250) THE OWL AND THE NIGHTINGALE Ich was in one sumere dale,10 In one swithe digele hale," I-herede 12 ich holde grete tale 13 An ule and one nigtingale. 14 16 That plait was stif and starc and strong, 22 The nigtingale bi-gon the speche, In one hurne 26 of one beche; Thar were abute 28 blosme i-nohe,29 In ore waste 30 thicke hegge, were nere, 38 ΙΟ 20 As I was in a summer dale, I heard of talking a great tale Let out the rage that in her dwelled. The nightingale began the speech, She sat upon a pretty bough, There were about her blossoms enow, All in a lonely, thickset hedge, Tangled with shoots and green with sedge. She was the gladder for the sprays, And sang in many kinds of ways. It rather seemed the sound I heard Was harp and pipe than song of bird; For rather seemed the sound to float ΙΟ 20 From harp and pipe than from bird's throat. And there the owl dwelled all alone. |