235 |
And so bifel, that longe er it were day |
| This man mette in his bed, ther as he lay, |
| How that his felawe gan upon hym calle |
| And seyde, `Allas, for in an oxes stalle |
| This nyght I shal be mordred, ther I lye! |
240 | Now help me, deere brother, or I dye; |
| In alle haste com to me!" he sayde. |
| This man out of his sleep for feere abrayde; |
| But whan that he was wakened of his sleep, |
| He turned hym and took of it no keep. |
245 | Hym thoughte, his dreem nas but a vanitee. |
| Thus twies in his slepyng dremed hee, |
| And atte thridde tyme yet his felawe |
| Cam, as hym thoughte, and seide, `I am now slawe, |
| Bihoold my bloody woundes depe and wyde; |
250 | Arys up erly in the morwe-tyde, |
| And at the west gate of the toun,' quod he, |
| `A carte ful of donge ther shaltow se, |
| In which my body is hid ful prively. |
| Do thilke carte arresten boldely; |
255 | My gold caused my mordre, sooth to sayn.'- |
| And tolde hym every point, how he was slayn, |
| With a ful pitous face, pale of hewe; |
| And truste wel, his dreem he foond ful trewe. |
| For on the morwe, as soone as it was day, |
260 | To his felawes in he took the way, |
| And whan that he cam to this oxes stalle, |
| After his felawe he bigan to calle. |
|
235 | So it happened that, long before it was day, |
| This last man dreamed in bed, as there he lay, |
| That his poor fellow did unto him call, |
| Saying: 'Alas! For in an ox's stall |
| This night shall I be murdered where I lie. |
240 | Now help me, brother dear, before I die. |
| Come in all haste to me.' 'Twas thus he said. |
| This man woke out of sleep, then, all afraid; |
| But when he'd wakened fully from his sleep, |
| He turned upon his pillow, yawning deep, |
245 | Thinking his dream was but a fantasy. |
| And then again, while sleeping, thus dreamed he. |
| And then a third time came a voice that said |
| Or so he thought: 'Now, comrade, I am dead; |
| Behold my bloody wounds, so wide and deep! |
250 | Early arise tomorrow from your sleep, |
| And at the west gate of the town,' said he, |
| 'A wagon full of dung there shall you see, |
| Wherein is hid my body craftily; |
| Do you arrest this wagon right boldly. |
255 | They killed me for what money they could gain.' |
| And told in every point how he'd been slain, |
| With a most pitiful face and pale of hue. |
| And trust me well, this dream did all come true; |
| For on the morrow, soon as it was day, |
260 | Unto his comrade's inn he took the way; |
| And when he'd come into that ox's stall, |
| Upon his fellow he began to call. |
|