IX.

Gaily was the knight attired. Wel gay watȝ þis gome gered in grene, 180 & þe here of his hed of his hors swete; Fayre fannand fax vmbe-foldes his schulderes; His great beard, like a bush, hung on his breast. A much berd as¹ a busk ouer his brest henges, Þat wyth his hiȝlich here, þat of his hed reches, 184 Watȝ euesed al vmbe-torne, a-bof his elbowes, Þat half his armes þer vnder were halched in þe wyse Of a kyngeȝ capados, þat closes his swyre. The horse's mane was decked with golden threads. Þe mane of þat mayn hors much to hit lyke, 188 Wel cresped & cemmed wyth knottes ful mony, Folden in wyth fildore aboute þe fayre grene, Ay a herle of þe here, an oþer of golde; Its tail was bound with a green band. Þe tayl & his toppyng twynnen of a sute, 192 & bounden boþe wyth a bande of a bryȝt grene, Dubbed wyth ful dere stoneȝ, as þe dok lasted, Syþen þrawen wyth a þwong a þwarle knot alofte, Þer mony belleȝ ful bryȝt of brende golde rungen. Such a foal nor a knight were never before seen. 196 Such a fole vpon folde, ne freke þat hym rydes, Watȝ neuer sene in þat sale wyth syȝt er þat tyme, with yȝe; He loked as layt so lyȝt, 200 So sayd al þat hym syȝe, It seemed that no man might endure his dints. Hit semed as no mon myȝt, Vnder his dyntteȝ dryȝe. ¹ as as, in MS.