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ful of fayre floures and grasse / And there they rested them &
theyr horses alle that nyghte /
Milestone: Sir Gawayne meets Tuscan man
And in the spryngynge of theday in the next morne / syre Gawayn took his hors and stale
away from his felauship to seke some aduentures / And anon
he was ware of a man armed walkynge his hors easyly by
a wodes syde / and his sheld laced to his sholdre syttynge on
a stronge courser withoute ony man sauyng to a page berynge a
myghty spere . The knyght bare in his sheld thre gryffons of
gold in sable charbuncle the chyef of syluer / whan syre Ga//
wayn aspyed this gay knyght / he fewtryd his spere and rode
strayt to hym / and demaūded of hym from whens that he was
that other ansuerd and sayd he was of Tuscane / and dema//
unded of syre gawayn / what profryst thow proude knyghte
the so boldly / here getest thou no praye / thou mayst proue whā
thou wylt / for thou shalt be my prysoner or thou departe /
¶ Thenne sayd gawayn / thou auauntest the gretely and spe//
kest proude wordes / I coūceylle the for alle thy boost that thou
make the redy / and take thy gere to the / to fore gretter grame
falle to the
Div: Of a bataylle doon by Gauwayn ayenst a sarasyn / whiche after was yelden & became crysten
Milestone:
¶ Capitulum x
Milestone: Fight between them ensues
THenne they took theyr speres and ranne eche at other
with alle the myghte they had / and smote eche other
thurgh their sheldes in to theyr sholders / wherfore anone they
pulled oute their swerdes / and smote grete strokes that the fy
re sprange oute of their helmes / Thenne syre gawayne was al
abasshed and with galatyn his good swerd he smote thurgh
shelde and thycke hauberke made of thyck maylles and al to
russhed and brake the precious stones / and made hym a large
wounde / that men myghte see bothe lyuer and long / Thenne gro
ned that knyght / and adressyd hym to syre Gawayn / & with
an awke stroke gaf hym a grete wound and kytte a vayne /
whiche greued gawayn sore / and he bledde sore /
Milestone: Sir Priamus addresses Sir Gawayne
¶ Thenne theknyghte sayd to syre Gawayn / bynde thy wounde or thy blee
chaunge / for thou bybledest al thy hors and thy fayre armes /
For alle the Barbours of Bretayne shal not conne staunche
thy blood / For who someuer is hurte with this blade he shalle
