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No. 1.

The Geste of Schir Gormalyn

And the Reid Woulff
at the warldis
: end.

Lythe and listen feeris al,
In quhat manere thirlit in thralle,

Wes ane swote May fair,
Be ane reid Wovlff, ane ugsum fende,
Liggand nie the warldis end;
Quhyll ane knicht breem did wend

Thilk woulffis hert till tere.

Then this burde bricht to bring
Fra the Woulffis halde indigne,

Did himsel boune;
His aventuris, grit to tell,
Dois mi weake witt precell,
Quhairfoir me rede you well,

His laude to roune.

Gude Gormalyn bene pricken onne,
Ane squyer be him ronne,

Stalwarth and fre.
Ouir forthis, holtis, and how,
Quhyll thay prochen till a lowe,
Brennand bauld on ane knowe,
Meruailous till see.

*6 Quhar wonnis thow knicht,
In armour clere dicht ?"

Spak furth ane man,

gang, quod Gormalyn, Sum straunge aventur in, Sua betide me hap and gyn,

Do quhat I can.

Quhat cace has happit thè,
Sith sic dolore I see

Thorow this land gude?
Quhat bene this fyrie flare,
Trubland the mokie aire,
And sua moche of dispaire,

With teiris afflude ?

« Welaway! mi hertis broker Wi moche wae ywroken,"

Quod the villeine; Syne ane reid woulfis stown The swete May growan Als lyk ane rois blowan,

And hir awa tane.

This woulff ben grit in bane,
Wi lang touzlit mane,

Hideous to see ;
Eyne lyk beadis of fyr,
With ane reid selcouth lyre,
Paweis scharpenit-

Abune al gre.

Dwelland at the warldis endo
Nocht pitie him kend,

Bot dois devore Flokkis, Schepperdis, Wemen, Maydis, bairnis, eild men, Then slinkis to his den

In moche glore,

Malisounis on him licht,
He swoppit ane May bricht,

. Sib to the king
Of this royame braid;
And doomit to the deid,
Scho is perdie Ilede,

Sua sorrowis spryng.
Sith quhen the king heris
Fra mi foirfleyit feeris

Of this cace;
Certes, baith me and myne
Schal dree moche pyne,
Quhilk makis me dwyne

And sike, alace."

Up stertit Gormalyn,
Lyk ane suche of wynd,

Fers and fellone,
Be him that bled on tre,
This samen May schall I fre,
And the grim woulff sehall die

Be mie yron."

Out syne he drawis his suerd; And settis its poynct till the erd,

Wittand to ken Quhat airt it mote fall, Quhilk fallow he schall, Quhyll he mote saif mell

Wi the woulffis der.

Waffland till the west,
Joukand till the east,

Was sumdele the suerd,
Southlandis it whiles did beck,
Quhyll in fine north its neck
Bendand bot ane cheque

Daddit on crd.

(Multa deerant)

Furth prickit he throch the wud,
Lyk ane blak clud,

In tide tempestive,
Calland loud and hie,
On the woulff ne to flee,
Quhan fleand sikarlie,

He was belive.

Alace! in the woulffis mouth,
Borne was the mayd in trouth,

Shrikand dolore,
Hir waist jimp and smaw,
Crushit was atwixt his jaw,
And hir heid hong law

Sad thoch decore.

Hir armis saft and lyte,
And halse ivorie quhyt

Sweepit the grund.
Quhyll hir goun in the wynd,
Trailand wes behind,
Alace! sicht of sic kynd,

Nevir was fund.

Wae wes Schir Gormalyp,
Syne neir he ne win,

Albe he straive;
Efterme his horss coupit
Ouir ane roche knoupit,
To erdi Gormalyn loupit,

Deliver and braise.

On feet he swyth ran
Manie ane myl of land,

Nicht and day.
Thorow day he ay saw
Hir sklendir waist in woulffis g3w,
And thorow nicht a mane law,

For mercie alwaie.

“ O for ane egillis wing!
O for ane vyperis sting!"

Quod Gormalyn.
« O for ane lyounis pawe,
That this woulf mote I drawey
Lith and limb assinder sma,

And slay in fine.

Mi hert ben sair ysmote,
Be this mayis wordis swote,

Tendir and sad,
That it bene molten clene,
Fulfilland mi tua eyne,
With manie saut tene,

Of dolor and drad.

Owoulff let the Ladie fre,
And ye schall haif kye thre,

Soncie and sweit.
Ilk yere as manie moe,
Seheip wi yong to throw
Schall until ye eith goe,

Trewlie I weet.

Bot hard wes the Woulfis hert, Lyk heid of ane steel dert,

Lyte reckit hee Of Schir Gormalyn gude, Rampagand fell and wud, And scuddand lyk simmer clud,

In welkin blee. Schakand his salvage pow, Wi bludie eyne on low,

And ane lang gowl, Up muntanis he speelis, Doun braes he reelis, Wingis weren at his heelis,

Deth in his gow)

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