(I had to add some line breaks because it was just too fucking insane without. I tried to keep all the spellings and highlighting as given. And yes, no one knows how the fuck to spell Lamoraks name.)
So Sir Lamerok departed fro them; and within a whyle he mette with Sir Mellygaunce. And than Sir Lamorak asked him why he loved Quene Gwenyver as he ded - "for I was not far from you whan ye made youre complaynte by the chapell."
"Ded ye so?" seyde Sir Mellygaunte. "Than woll I abyde by hit: I love Quene Gwenyver. What woll ye with hit? I woll preve and make hit good that she ys the fayryste lady and most of beaute' in the worlde."
"As to that," seyde Sir Lamerok, "I say nay thereto, for Quene Morgause of Orkeney, modir unto Sir Gawayne, for she ys the fayryst lady that beryth the lyff."
"That ys not so!" sayde Sir Mellygaunce. "and that woll I preve with my hondis."
"Wylle ye so?" seyde Sir Lamorak. "And in a bettir quarell kepe I nat to fyght!"
So they departed ayther frome othir in grete wrathe; and than they com rydyng togydir as hit had bene thundir and aythir smote othe so sore that their horsis felle backewarde to the erthe. And than they avoyded their horsys, and dressed their shyldis and drew their swerdis, and than they hurteled togydirs as wylde borys; and thus they fought a great whyle - for Sir Mellyagaunte was a good man and of grete myght, but Sir Lamorak was harde byg for hym and put hym allwayes abacke - but aythir had wounded othir sore. And as they stood thus fyghtunge, by fortune com Sir Launcelot and Sir Bleoberys; and than Sir Launcelot rode betwyxte them and asked them for what cause they fought so togydirs - "and ye ar bothe of the courte of Kynge Arthure!"
"Sir," seyde Sir Mellyagaunce, "I shall telle you for what cause we do thys batayle. I praysed my lady, Quene Gwenyvere, and seyde she was the fayryste lady of the worlde; and Sir Lameroke seyde nay thereto, for he seyde Quene Morgause of Orkeney was fayrar than she and more of beaute'."
"A!" sayde Sir Launcelot, Sir Lamorak, why sayst thou so? Hit ys nat thy parte to disprayse thy prynces tha thou arte undir obeysaunce, and we all." And therewithall Sir Launcelot alyght on foote. "And therefore make the redy, for I woll preve uppon the that Quene Guenyver ys the faryst lady and moust of bounte' in the worlde."
"Sir," seyde Sir Lamerok, "I am lothe to have ado with you in thys quarell, for every man thynkith hys owne lady fayryste, and thoughe I prayse the lady that I love moste, ye shoulde nat be wrothe - for thoughe my lady Quene Gwenyver be fayryst in youre eye, wyte you well Quene Morgause of Orkeney ys fayryst in myne eye - and so every knyght thynkith hys owne lady fayryste. And wyte you well, sir, ye ar the man in the worlde except Sir Trystramys that I am moste lothyst to have ado withall: but, and ye woll nedys have ado with me, I shall endure you longe as I may."
Than spake Sir Bleoberys and seyde, "My lorde Sir Launcelot, I wyste you never so mysseadvysed as ye be at thys tyme, for Sir Lamerok seyyth to you but reson and knyghtly. For I warne you, I have a lady, and methynkith that she ys the faryst lady of all the worlde: Were thys a grete reson that ye shoulde be wrothe with me for such langage?- And well ye wote that Sir Lamorak ys a noble knyght as I know ony lyvnge, and he hath oughte you and all us ever good wyll; therefor, I pray you, be fryndis!"