world, that when a man or woman sings more tunably than his fellows,
those about the fire fall upon him, pell-mell, for reason of their
envy. They rehearse diligently the faults of his song, and steal away
his praise with evil words. I will brand these folk as they deserve.
They, and such as they, are like mad dogs--cowardly and felon--who
traitorously bring to death men better than themselves. Now let the
japer, and the smiler with his knife, do me what harm they may. Verily
they are in their right to speak ill of me.

Hearken, oh gentles, to the tale I set before you, for thereof the
Bretons already have made a Lay. I will not do it harm by many words,
and here is the commencement of the matter. According to text and
scripture, now I relate a certain adventure, which bechanced in the
realm of Brittany, in days long gone before.

In that time when Arthur maintained his realm, the now in peace, the
now in war, the King counted amongst his vassals a certain baron,
named Oridial. This knight was lord of Leon, and was very near to his
prince's heart, both in council chamber and in field. From his wife he
had gotten two children, the one a son and the other a fair daughter.
Nogent, he had called the damsel at the font, and the dansellon was
named Gugemar--no goodlier might be found in any realm. His mother had
set all her love upon the lad, and his father shewed him every good
that he was able. When the varlet was no more a child, Oridial sent
him to the King, to be trained as a page in the courtesies of the
Court. Right serviceable was he in his station, and meetly praised
of all. The term of his service having come, and he being found of
fitting years and knowledge, the King made him knight with his own
hand, and armed him in rich harness, according to his wish. So Gugemar
gave gifts to all those about his person, and bidding farewell, took