Ciw-restr

Lanval

Llinellau gan Meliard (Cyfanswm: 31)

 
(1, 1) 376 But, Agravaine, thou dost not hear my words!
 
(1, 1) 386 Behold his meditation and his frown,
(1, 1) 387 Which now relaxes while he sweetly smiles
(1, 1) 388 On vacancy.
 
(1, 1) 391 How, Astamor?
 
(1, 1) 395 We hate pride
(1, 1) 396 Out of an envy, when we have no power
(1, 1) 397 To humble it.
 
(3, 1) 1653 How can one judge the value of a stroke
(3, 1) 1654 From such a distance?
 
(3, 1) 1658 How long, think you, will our attendance last?
 
(3, 1) 1661 War again?
 
(3, 1) 1663 I'd not have missed this meeting for the half
(3, 1) 1664 Of what I own. What think you, Astamor —
(3, 1) 1665 Is not Sir Lanval stouter than that stiff
(3, 1) 1666 And lustful ruffian Agravaine?
 
(3, 1) 1670 Lanval should gain!
 
(3, 1) 1672 Wounded?
 
(3, 1) 1675 Hurt,
(3, 1) 1676 And he will yet risk all in this debate?
 
(3, 1) 1679 That charge
(3, 1) 1680 Was folly on the face of it.
 
(3, 1) 1685 Their conflict should be very hotly fought.
 
(3, 1) 1688 But his wound —
(3, 1) 1689 And Agravaine's great strength!
 
(3, 1) 1703 Then we can go down
(3, 1) 1704 And watch this combat.
 
(3, 1) 1706 Come, Astamor.
 
(3, 1) 2260 I the same.
 
(4, 2) 3842 This is too harsh, Owain!
 
(4, 2) 3852 A dog's stroke too! The man's not even armed!