Gamelyn answered equally imperiously: “You knew my father well while he lived: he was Sir John of the Marches, and I am his youngest son, Gamelyn.”

The champion replied: “Boy, I knew your father well in his lifetime, and I have heard of you, but nothing good: you have always been in mischief.”

“Now I am older and you shall know me better,” said Gamelyn.

The wrestling had lasted till late in the evening, and the moon was shining over the scene when Gamelyn and the champion began their fight. The wrestler tried many wily tricks, but the boy was ready for them all. Then, in his turn, he grasped his rival round the waist, and cast him so heavily to the ground that three ribs were broken, and his left arm. Then the winner said mockingly:

“Shall we count that, or not?”

“By heaven! No man will survive in your hands,” said the champion painfully.

The yeoman, who had watched the match with great anxiety, now broke out with blessings[35]:

“Be blessed, young sir, that ever you were born!” and, turning to the fallen champion, added: “It was young ‘Mischief’ who taught you this game!”

“He is master of us all,” said the champion. “In all my years of wrestling I have never been used so cruelly.”

Now the winner stood in the ring, ready for more wrestling, but no man would dare to compete with him, and the two judges who kept order and awarded the prizes asked him to retire, for no other competitor could be found to face him.

But he was a little disappointed at this easy victory. “Is the fair over? Why, I haven’t yet had enough fun,” he said.

Later, when the judges returned to their seats, they formally awarded the prize to Gamelyn, and now came to him, bearing the ram and the ring.

Gamelyn took them gladly, and went home the next morning, followed by a cheering crowd of admirers; but when the cowardly Sir John saw the people he shut the castle doors against his more favourite and successful brother.

The porter, obeying his master’s commands, refused Gamelyn entrance; and the youth, angry at this insult, broke down the door with one blow, caught the porter, and flung him down the well in the courtyard. His brother’s servants fled from his anger, and the crowd that had accompanied him spread into courtyard and hall, while the knight took refuge in a little tower.

“Welcome to you all,” said Gamelyn. “We will be masters here and ask no man’s leave[36].

Yesterday I left five barrels of wine in the cellar; we will drain them dry before you go. If my brother objects (as he may, for he is greedy), I will be a butler and caterer myself and manage the whole feast. Any person who dares to protest may join the porter in the well.”

Naturally no objections followed, and Gamelyn and his friends held the carouse for a week, while Sir John was hiding in his tower, terrified at the noise and revelry, and fearing what his brother might do to him now he had so many followers.

However, the guests departed quietly on the eighth day, leaving Gamelyn alone, and very sorrowful, in the hall where he had held the feast. As he stood there sadly, he heard a timid footstep, and saw his brother coming towards him. When he had attracted Gamelyn’s attention he spoke out loudly: “Who made you so bold as to destroy all my household stores?”

“No, brother, be not angry,” said the youth quietly. “If I have used anything I have paid for it fully beforehand. For these sixteen years you have had full use and profit of fifteen good ploughlands which my father left me; you have also the use and increase of all my cattle and horses; and now all this past profit I abandon to you, in return for the expense of this feast of mine.”

Then said the treacherous Sir John: “Wait, my dear brother: I have no son, and you shall be my heir—I swear by the holy St. John.”

“Honestly, brother,” said Gamelyn, “if that is the case, and if this offer is made in all sincerity, may God reward you!” for it was impossible for him to suspect his brother of treachery.

Sir John hesitated a moment, and then said doubtfully: “There is one thing I must tell you, Gamelyn. When you threw my porter into the well I swore in my wrath that I would have you bound hand and foot. That is impossible now without your agreement, but I swore to god and cannot forget my promise. I will go to hell unless you let yourself be bound for a moment, as a mere form[37], just to save me from the sin.”

So sincere Sir John seemed, and so simple did the whole thing appear, that Gamelyn agreed at once. “Why, certainly, brother, you shall not go to hell for my sake.”

So he sat down, and the servants bound him hand and foot; and then Sir John looked mockingly at him as he said: “So now, my fine brother, I have you caught at last.” Then he ordered to chain him fast to a post in the centre of the hall. Gamelyn was placed on his feet with his back to the post and his hands tight behind him, and as he stood there the false brother told every person who entered that Gamelyn had suddenly gone mad, and was chained for safety’s sake, so that he would not do himself or others some deadly hurt. For two long days and nights he stood there bound, with no food or drink, and grew faint with hunger and weariness, for his ropes were so tight that he could not sit or lie down; bitterly he regretted the carelessness which made him fall such an easy prey

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