The Legend of Sir Guy

collated with two printed ones, one of which is in black-letter in thePepys collection." PERCY.

Was ever knight for ladyes sakeSoe tost in love, as I, Sir Guy,For Phelis fayre, that lady brightAs ever man beheld with eye?

She gave me leave myself to try,The valiant knight with sheeld and speare,Ere that her love she would grant me;Which made mee venture far and neare.

Then proved I a baron bold,In deeds of armes the doughtyest knightThat in those dayes in England was,With sworde and speare in feild to fight.

An English man I was by birthe:In faith of Christ a christyan true:The wicked lawes of infidellsI sought by prowesse to subdue.

'Nine' hundred twenty yeere and oddeAfter our Saviour Christ his birth,When King Athelstone wore the crowne,I lived heere upon the earth.

Sometime I was of Warwicke erle,And, as I sayd, of very truthA ladyes love did me constraineTo seeke strange ventures in my youth;

To win me fame by feates of armesIn strange and sundry heathen lands;Where I atchieved for her sakeRight dangerous conquests with my hands.

For first I sayled to Normandye,And there I stoutlye wan in fightThe emperours daughter of Almaine,From manye a vallyant worthye knight.

Then passed I the seas to Greece,To helpe the emperour in his right,Against the mightye souldans hoasteOf puissant Persians for to fight:

Where I did slay of Sarazens,And heathen pagans, manye a man;And slew the souldans cozen deere,Who had to name doughtye Coldran.

Eskeldered, a famous knight,To death likewise I did pursue:And Elmayne, King of Tyre, alsoe,Most terrible in fight to viewe.

I went into the souldans hoast,Being thither on embassage sent,And brought his head awaye with mee;I having slaine him in his tent.

There was a dragon in that landMost fiercelye mett me by the waye,As hee a lyon did pursue,Which I myself did alsoe slay.

Then soon I past the seas from Greece,And came to Pavye land aright;Where I the duke of Pavye killed,His hainous treason to requite.

To England then I came with speede,To wedd faire Phelis, lady bright;For love of whome I travelled farrTo try my manhood and my might.

But when I had espoused her,I stayd with her but fortye dayes,Ere that I left this ladye faire,And went, from her beyond the seas.

All cladd in gray, in pilgrim sort,My voyage from her I did takeUnto the blessed Holy-Land,For Jesus Christ my Saviours sake.

Where I Erle Jonas did redeeme,And all his sonnes, which were fifteene,Who with the cruell SarazensIn prison for long time had beene.

I slew the gyant AmarantIn battel fiercelye hand to hand,And doughty Barknard killed I,A treacherous knight of Pavye land.

Then I to England came againe,And here with Colbronde fell I fought;An ugly gyant, which the DanesHad for their champion hither brought.

I overcame him in the feild,And slewe him soone right valliantlye;Wherebye this land I did redeemeFrom Danish tribute utterlye.

And afterwards I offered uppThe use of weapons solemnlyeAt Winchester, whereas I fought,In sight of manye farr and nye.

'But first,' neare Winsor, I did slayeA bore of passing might and strength;Whose like in England never wasFor hugenesse both in bredth and length.

Some of his bones in Warwicke yettWithin the castle there doth lye;One of his sheeld-bones to this dayHangs in the citye of Coventrye.

On Dunsmore heath I alsoe sleweA monstrous wyld and cruell beast,Calld the Dun-cow of Dunsmore heath;Which manye people had opprest.

Some of her bones in Warwicke yettStill for a monument doth lye,And there exposed to lookers viewe,As wondrous strange, they may espye.

A dragon in NorthumberlandI alsoe did in fight destroye,Which did bothe man and beast oppresse,And all the countrye sore annoye.

At length to Warwicke I did come,Like pilgrim poore, and was not knowne;And there I lived a hermitts lifeA mile and more out of the towne.

Where with my hands I hewed a houseOut of a craggy rocke of stone,And lived like a palmer pooreWithin that cave myself alone:

And daylye came to begg my breadOf Phelis att my castle gate;Not knowne unto my loved wiffe,Who dailye mourned for her mate.

Till att the last I fell sore sicke,Yea, sicke soe sore that I must dye;I sent to her a ring of golde,By which shee knew me presentlye.

Then shee repairing to the cave,Before that I gave up the ghost,Herself closd up my dying eyes;My Phelis faire, whom I lovd most.

Thus dreadful death did me arrest,To bring my corpes unto the grave,And like a palmer dyed I,Wherby I sought my soule to save.

My body that endured this toyle,Though now it be consumed to mold,My statue, faire engraven in stone,In Warwicke still you may behold.

What follows is abridged from Grundtvig, Danmarks GamleFolkeviser, ii. 554.

The Byzantians had long before ascribed various miracles to St.George, but it was the Normans, who, so to say, first pressed him intoactive military service.

Of Hector's deeds did Homer sing,And of the sack of stately Troy,What griefs fair Helena did bring,Which was Sir Paris' only joy:And by my pen I will reciteSt. George's deeds, an English knight.

Against the Sarazens so rudeFought he full long and many a day,Where many gyaunts he subdu'd,In honour of the Christian way;And after many adventures past,To Egypt land he came at last.

Now, as the story plain doth tell,Within that countrey there did restA dreadful dragon, fierce and fell,Whereby they were full sore opprest:Who by his poisonous breath each dayDid many of the city slay.

The grief whereof did grow so greatThroughout the limits of the land,That they their wise men did intreatTo shew their cunning out of hand;What way they might this fiend destroy,That did the countrey thus annoy.

The wise men all before the king,This answer fram'd incontinent:The dragon none to death might bringBy any means they could invent;His skin more hard than brass was found,That sword nor spear could pierce nor wound.

When this the people understood,They cryed out most piteouslye,The dragon's breath infects their blood,That every day in heaps they dye;Among them such a plague is bred,The living scarce could bury the dead.

No means there were, as they could hear,For to appease the dragon's rage,But to present some virgin clear,Whose blood his fury might asswage;Each day he would a maiden eat,For to allay his hunger great.

This thing by art the wise men found,Which truly must observed be;Wherefore, throughout the city round,A virgin pure of good degreeWas, by the king's commission, stillTaken up to serve the dragon's will.

Thus did the dragon every dayUntimely crop some virgin flowr,Till all the maids were worn away,And none were left him to devour;Saving the king's fair daughter bright,Her father's only heart's delight.

Then came the officers to the king,That heavy message to declare,Which did his heart with sorrow sting;"She is," quoth he, "my kingdom's heir:O let us all be poisoned here,Ere she should die, that is my dear."

Then rose the people presently,And to the king in rage they went;They said his daughter dear should dye,The dragon's fury to prevent:"Our daughters all are dead," quoth they,"And have been made the dragon's prey;

"And by their blood we rescued were,And thou hast sav'd thy life thereby;And now in sooth it is but faire,For us thy daughter so should die.""O save my daughter," said the king,"And let ME feel the dragon's sting."

Then fell fair Sabra on her knee,And to her father dear did say,"O father, strive not thus for me,But let me be the dragon's prey;It may be, for my sake aloneThis plague upon the land was thrown.

"'Tis better I should dye," she said,"Than all your subjects perish quite;Perhaps the dragon here was laid,For my offence to work his spite,And after he hath suckt my gore,Your land shall feel the grief no more."

"What hast thou done, my daughter dear,For to deserve this heavy scourge?It is my fault, as may appear,Which makes the gods our state to purge;Then ought I die, to stint the strife,And to preserve thy happy life."

Like mad-men, all the people cried,"Thy death to us can do no good;Our safely only doth abideIn making her the dragon's food.""Lo! here I am, I come," quoth she,"Therefore do what you will with me."

"Nay stay, dear daughter," quoth the queen,"And as thou art a virgin bright,That hast for vertue famous been,So let me cloath thee all in white;And crown thy head with flowers sweet,An ornament for virgins meet."

And when she was attired so,According to her mother's mind,Unto the stake then did she go,To which her tender limbs they bind;And being bound to stake a thrall,She bade farewell unto them all.

"Farewell, my father dear," quoth she,"And my sweet mother, meek and mild;Take you no thought nor weep for me,For you may have another child;Since for my country's good I dye,Death I receive most willinglye."

The king and queen and all their trainWith weeping eyes went then their way,And let their daughter there remain,To be the hungry dragon's prey:But as she did there weeping lye,Behold St. George came riding by.

And seeing there a lady brightSo rudely tyed unto a stake,As well became a valiant knight,He straight to her his way did take:"Tell me, sweet maiden," then quoth he,"What caitif thus abuseth thee?

"And, lo! by Christ his cross I vow,Which here is figured on my breast,I will revenge it on his brow,And break my lance upon his chest:"And speaking thus whereas he stood,The dragon issued from the wood.

The lady, that did first espyThe dreadful dragon coming so,Unto St. George aloud did cry,And willed him away to go;"Here comes that cursed fiend," quoth she,"That soon will make an end of me."

St. George then looking round about,The fiery dragon soon espy'd,And like a knight of courage stout,Against him did most fiercely ride;And with such blows he did him greet,He fell beneath his horse's feet.

For with his launce, that was so strong,As he came gaping in his face,In at his mouth he thrust along;For he could pierce no other place:And thus within the lady's viewThis mighty dragon straight he slew.

The savour of his poisoned breathCould do this holy knight no harm;Thus he the lady sav'd from death,And home he led her by the arm;Which when King Ptolemy did see,There was great mirth and melody.

When as that valiant champion thereHad slain the dragon in the field,To court he brought the lady fair,Which to their hearts much joy did yield,He in the court of Egypt staidTill he most falsely was betray'd.

That lady dearly lov'd the knight,He counted her his only joy;But when their love was brought to light,It turn'd unto their great annoy.Th' Morocco king was in the court,Who to the orchard did resort;

Dayly, to take the pleasant air;For pleasure sake he us'd to walk;Under a wall he oft did hearSt. George with Lady Sabra talk;Their love he shew'd unto the king,Which to St. George great woe did bring.

Those kings together did deviseTo make the Christian knight away:With letters him in curteous wiseThey straightway sent to Persia,But wrote to the sophy him to kill,And treacherously his blood to spill.

Thus they for good did him rewardWith evil, and most subtilly,By such vile meanes, they had regardTo work his death most cruelly;Who, as through Persia land he rode,With zeal destroy'd each idol god.

For which offence he straight was thrownInto a dungeon dark and deep;Where, when he thought his wrongs upon,He bitterly did wail and weep:Yet like a knight of courage stout,At length his way he digged out.

Three grooms of the King of PersiaBy night this valiant champion slew,Though he had fasted many a day,And then away from thence he flewOn the best steed the sophy had;Which when he knew he was full mad.

Towards Christendom he made his flight,But met a gyant by the way,With whom in combat he did fightMost valiantly a summer's day:Who yet, for all his bats of steel,Was forc'd the sting of death to feel.

Back o'er the seas, with many bandsOf warlike souldiers soon he past,Vowing upon those heathen landsTo work revenge; which at the last,Ere thrice three years were gone and spent,He wrought unto his heart's content.

Save onely Egypt land he spar'd,For Sabra bright her only sake,And, ere for her he had regard,He meant a tryal kind to make:Meanwhile the king, o'ercome in field,Unto Saint George did quickly yield.

Then straight Morocco's king he slew,And took fair Sabra to his wife,But meant to try if she were true,Ere with her he would lead his life;And, tho' he had her in his train,She did a virgin pure remain.

Toward England then that lovely dameThe brave St. George conducted strait,An eunuch also with them came,Who did upon the lady wait.These three from Egypt went alone:Now mark St. George's valour shown.

When as they in a forest were,The lady did desire to rest:Meanwhile St. George to kill a deerFor their repast did think it best:Leaving her with the eunuch there,Whilst he did go to kill the deer.

But lo! all in his absence cameTwo hungry lyons, fierce and fell,And tore the eunuch on the sameIn pieces small, the truth to tell;Down by the lady then they laid,Whereby they shew'd she was a maid.

But when he came from hunting back,And did behold this heavy chance,Then for his lovely virgin's sakeHis courage strait he did advance,And came into the lions sight,Who ran at him with all their might.

Their rage did him no whit dismay,Who, like a stout and valiant knight,Did both the hungry lyons slayWithin the Lady Sabra's sight:Who all this while, sad and demure,There stood most like a virgin pure.

Now when St. George did surely knowThis lady was a virgin true,His heart was glad, that erst was woe,And all his love did soon renew:He set her on a palfrey steed,And towards England came with speed.

Where being in short space arriv'dUnto his native dwelling place,Therein with his dear love he liv'd,And fortune did his nuptials grace:They many years of joy did see,And led their lives at Coventry.