 | The Romance of William of Palerne |  |
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þe Gestes of þe worþie King and Emperour, Alisaunder of Macedoine.
Yee þat lengen in londe Lordes, and ooþe,
Beurnes, or bachelers þat boldely thinken
Wheþer in werre, or in wo wightly to dwell,
For to lachen hem loose in hur lifetime,
Or dere thinken to doo deedes of armes,
To be proued for pris & prest of hemselue,
Tend yee tytely to mee & take goode heede.
I shall sigge forsothe ensaumples ynow
Of one, þe boldest beurn & best of his deeds,
That euer steede bestrode or sterne was holden!
Now shall I carp of a King kid in his time,
þat had londes, & leedes & lordships feole;
Amyntas þe mightie was þe man hoten:
Maister of Macedoine þe marches hee aught,
Bothe feeldes, & frithes faire all aboute;
Trie towres, & tounes terme of his life,
And kept þe croune as a King sholde.
Þen this cumlich King & keene in his time,
Had wedde a wife as hym well thought,
And long ladden hur life in lond togeder.
Twoo seemlich sonnes soone they hadden;
Þe alder hight Alisaunder as I right tell;
And sir Philip forsoothe his frobroder hight.
Case fell, þat this Kyng as Christe wolde þanne,
Was with siknes of-sought & soone þer-after,
Hee was graythed to grace & to God went.
His alder-aldust sonne þat Alisaunder hight,
Þo was crouned King to keepe þe reigne.
Well hee ladde þe londe while hee lyfe hadde,
But his term was tint or it tyme were.
And all þe cause of þis case I con soone tell;
How hee was doolefully ded & doone of his life.
Dat made his moder þe Queene þat moste was adouted;
Eurydice hue hight unkinde of her deedes.
Hue loued so lecherie & lustes of synne,
Þat her chylder hue chase unchastly to haue.
For Alisaunder, hur sonne assent so ne wolde
To fulfill so foule her fleshlych sinnes,
Hue let kyll þis Kyng with care at his hert,
In þe formest yere that hee first reigned.
And ðus lafte hee his life our Lorde haue his soule!
For a feller in fight found men seelde,
While him lasted his life londes to yeeme.
Now let wee þis lued lengen in bliss,
And sithe myng wee more of þis mery tale.
Beurnes, or bachelers þat boldely thinken
Wheþer in werre, or in wo wightly to dwell,
For to lachen hem loose in hur lifetime,
Or dere thinken to doo deedes of armes,
To be proued for pris & prest of hemselue,
Tend yee tytely to mee & take goode heede.
I shall sigge forsothe ensaumples ynow
Of one, þe boldest beurn & best of his deeds,
That euer steede bestrode or sterne was holden!
Now shall I carp of a King kid in his time,
þat had londes, & leedes & lordships feole;
Amyntas þe mightie was þe man hoten:
Maister of Macedoine þe marches hee aught,
Bothe feeldes, & frithes faire all aboute;
Trie towres, & tounes terme of his life,
And kept þe croune as a King sholde.
Þen this cumlich King & keene in his time,
Had wedde a wife as hym well thought,
And long ladden hur life in lond togeder.
Twoo seemlich sonnes soone they hadden;
Þe alder hight Alisaunder as I right tell;
And sir Philip forsoothe his frobroder hight.
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Was with siknes of-sought & soone þer-after,
Hee was graythed to grace & to God went.
His alder-aldust sonne þat Alisaunder hight,
Þo was crouned King to keepe þe reigne.
Well hee ladde þe londe while hee lyfe hadde,
But his term was tint or it tyme were.
And all þe cause of þis case I con soone tell;
How hee was doolefully ded & doone of his life.
Dat made his moder þe Queene þat moste was adouted;
Eurydice hue hight unkinde of her deedes.
Hue loued so lecherie & lustes of synne,
Þat her chylder hue chase unchastly to haue.
For Alisaunder, hur sonne assent so ne wolde
To fulfill so foule her fleshlych sinnes,
Hue let kyll þis Kyng with care at his hert,
In þe formest yere that hee first reigned.
And ðus lafte hee his life our Lorde haue his soule!
For a feller in fight found men seelde,
While him lasted his life londes to yeeme.
Now let wee þis lued lengen in bliss,
And sithe myng wee more of þis mery tale.
Fel[e] wintres tofore in his faders life,
Than was Philip þe free to fosteryng take,
In courte [of an] unkouthe kith with a King ryche,
That was chuse of þe childe & choicelich hym kept.
Hee that fostred, & founde Philip in youthe,
King of Tebes that time truly was holden,
Epaminondas hee hyght full hardy to meete.
So hee cherished þe childe cheefe ouer all,
Þat hee was woxen full weele & wyght of his deede,
Forto abyde any beurn in battle, or eles.
When his broder with bale brought was of life,
Ryght was, þat þis renk reigned hym after
To bee crouned a King in his right riche,
As maister of Macedoine amonges þe greate,
For to leade þe lond as hym leefe thought,
Men to holden of hym þat hed was of all,
Philip fared him forthe in a fayre wyse,
To receiuen his right & reigne on his londes;
But when þe Lordes of þe lond lelich wysten
Of hur neew cummen King þat his kith asketh,
With greate werre þat wonne þei werned hym soone,
That by force of hur fight ðei firked hym ðennes,
That hee ne must in his marche with his menne dwell,
Ne beleue in his lond; þat liked hym yll.
Whan Philip felt tho folk so ferse of hur deedes,
Ayen to Tebes hee turned teenid full sore.
To þe Kyng of this case hee carped soone,
How hee was kept at his coome with a keene route,
That hee was faine with his folke to flee from his owne.
Epaminondas þe King was carefull in hert,
Till hee were wroken of þe wrong þat þei wrought hadden.
Hee graythed hym a greate oste grym to beholde,
And cheued forthe, with þe childe what chaunse so betide.
So with Philip þe free hee fared on in haste,
To clayme his Kingdome & catchen þe shrews,
That beraften hym his ryght with rufull deedes.
Than, shortly to showe þei sharplich went,
And foughten for Philip his fone to dustroye,
Tooke towres, & towne[s] tamid Knightes,
Felled þe falsse folke ferked hem hard,
With skathe were þei skoumfyt skape þei ne myght;
Who-so weldes a wrong þe worsse hym betides,
For hee, þat reigneth in ryght reskueth troth.
For fere of sir Philip fledde they all,
And turned tit to a towne þat Attanus hyght,
A stiþ stede, & a strong & straite for to winne,
And kept keenely þat cost fro þe Kyng than,
That hee ne myght with þo menne medle no while.
The King of Tebs for teene targed no lenger,
But sought to þe Citie & a-saute made.
They beseeged it so on sides aboute,
That they tooke þe towne & traytoures sleew.
Thus faire Philip, þe free his fomen awaited,
And thus sought hee his lond with loðelike dyntes.
Than þis cumly Knight was crouned soone,
Of Macedoine made Kyng maugre them all.
Fore hundred yere holly as I here tell,
Sin þe Citie of Roome sett was in erth,
Philip in his freedam faire gan dwell,
So too reigne on his ryght as rink in his owne.
Now is hee crouned King & keeppes his reigne,
And swiþe hardie is hee happes too fonde.
Now fares Philip þe free too fonden his myght,
And attles to þe Assyriens aunteres too seeche;
And nere blynd þe beurn of battle stern,
Till hee had fenked þe folke too fare at his wyll,
And wonne þe won with werre full keene,
Folke to fare with hym as hee faine wolde,
To chesen hym for cheefe Lorde & chaunge hym neuer.
Philip full ferslich in his fyght spedde,
And prooued in his powre as Prince full noble.
Than was Philip þe free to fosteryng take,
In courte [of an] unkouthe kith with a King ryche,
That was chuse of þe childe & choicelich hym kept.
Hee that fostred, & founde Philip in youthe,
King of Tebes that time truly was holden,
Epaminondas hee hyght full hardy to meete.
So hee cherished þe childe cheefe ouer all,
Þat hee was woxen full weele & wyght of his deede,
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When his broder with bale brought was of life,
Ryght was, þat þis renk reigned hym after
To bee crouned a King in his right riche,
As maister of Macedoine amonges þe greate,
For to leade þe lond as hym leefe thought,
Men to holden of hym þat hed was of all,
Philip fared him forthe in a fayre wyse,
To receiuen his right & reigne on his londes;
But when þe Lordes of þe lond lelich wysten
Of hur neew cummen King þat his kith asketh,
With greate werre þat wonne þei werned hym soone,
That by force of hur fight ðei firked hym ðennes,
That hee ne must in his marche with his menne dwell,
Ne beleue in his lond; þat liked hym yll.
Whan Philip felt tho folk so ferse of hur deedes,
Ayen to Tebes hee turned teenid full sore.
To þe Kyng of this case hee carped soone,
How hee was kept at his coome with a keene route,
That hee was faine with his folke to flee from his owne.
Epaminondas þe King was carefull in hert,
Till hee were wroken of þe wrong þat þei wrought hadden.
Hee graythed hym a greate oste grym to beholde,
And cheued forthe, with þe childe what chaunse so betide.
So with Philip þe free hee fared on in haste,
To clayme his Kingdome & catchen þe shrews,
That beraften hym his ryght with rufull deedes.
Than, shortly to showe þei sharplich went,
And foughten for Philip his fone to dustroye,
Tooke towres, & towne[s] tamid Knightes,
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With skathe were þei skoumfyt skape þei ne myght;
Who-so weldes a wrong þe worsse hym betides,
For hee, þat reigneth in ryght reskueth troth.
For fere of sir Philip fledde they all,
And turned tit to a towne þat Attanus hyght,
A stiþ stede, & a strong & straite for to winne,
And kept keenely þat cost fro þe Kyng than,
That hee ne myght with þo menne medle no while.
The King of Tebs for teene targed no lenger,
But sought to þe Citie & a-saute made.
They beseeged it so on sides aboute,
That they tooke þe towne & traytoures sleew.
Thus faire Philip, þe free his fomen awaited,
And thus sought hee his lond with loðelike dyntes.
Than þis cumly Knight was crouned soone,
Of Macedoine made Kyng maugre them all.
Fore hundred yere holly as I here tell,
Sin þe Citie of Roome sett was in erth,
Philip in his freedam faire gan dwell,
So too reigne on his ryght as rink in his owne.
Now is hee crouned King & keeppes his reigne,
And swiþe hardie is hee happes too fonde.
Now fares Philip þe free too fonden his myght,
And attles to þe Assyriens aunteres too seeche;
And nere blynd þe beurn of battle stern,
Till hee had fenked þe folke too fare at his wyll,
And wonne þe won with werre full keene,
Folke to fare with hym as hee faine wolde,
To chesen hym for cheefe Lorde & chaunge hym neuer.
Philip full ferslich in his fyght spedde,
And prooued in his powre as Prince full noble.
Whan hee had so them hollich ifenked,
Hee sought too a Citie full seemely too knowe,
Larissea hyght, þat helde full hardie men in,
One þe klenist coste þat any King aught.
Philip fetches hym folke & foundes full soone
Too bidden þem battle & brodes in haste,
For to lache hym as Lorde þe lond for to haue,
Or deraine it with dintes & deedes of armes.
Ferse were þo folke & foughten in haste,
Or þei lesen þeir lond their life for too spill.
Longe lasted þat strife but lelli too knowe,
By fin force of his fight Philip it winnes.
Now hath Philip in fyght freely wonne
The Citie of Assyriens with selkouthe dintes;
And lordship of Larisse laught too his will;
And intoo Greece hee gose with a grim peeple.
Than hee turnes too a towne Tessalonie it hyght;
And assailes it soone þe Citie to haue.
Too [sese] onely þe towne or any oþer goodes,
Hee ne nyed it nought but needely too haue
All þo mightfull menne þat in þe marches dwelt,
Too bryng at his baner for bolde þei were,
And a-losed in lond for leeflich Knightes.
For þis enchesoun hee chused too chasen hem þere,
Till þei were at his wyll as hee wolde ax.
But or hee tooke so their toune teene gan spring;
Many a dulfull dint deled þei there.
But all þei were unware wisly too knowe
Of þat sorowfull asaute þat they so had;
For hadde þei knowe þe kast of þe Kyng stern,
They had kept well his cumme with carefull dintes.
Þei see no succour in no syde aboute,
That was come to hur koste þe king for to lett;
And Philip with his fresh folke so fast þem assailes,
That þei gradden hur griþ his grace to haue,
Him to taken þeir toune & trulich to serue,
For to wend at his wyll whereso hym liked,
And redy to his retainaunce ryght as hee wolde.
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Larissea hyght, þat helde full hardie men in,
One þe klenist coste þat any King aught.
Philip fetches hym folke & foundes full soone
Too bidden þem battle & brodes in haste,
For to lache hym as Lorde þe lond for to haue,
Or deraine it with dintes & deedes of armes.
Ferse were þo folke & foughten in haste,
Or þei lesen þeir lond their life for too spill.
Longe lasted þat strife but lelli too knowe,
By fin force of his fight Philip it winnes.
Now hath Philip in fyght freely wonne
The Citie of Assyriens with selkouthe dintes;
And lordship of Larisse laught too his will;
And intoo Greece hee gose with a grim peeple.
Than hee turnes too a towne Tessalonie it hyght;
And assailes it soone þe Citie to haue.
Too [sese] onely þe towne or any oþer goodes,
Hee ne nyed it nought but needely too haue
All þo mightfull menne þat in þe marches dwelt,
Too bryng at his baner for bolde þei were,
And a-losed in lond for leeflich Knightes.
For þis enchesoun hee chused too chasen hem þere,
Till þei were at his wyll as hee wolde ax.
But or hee tooke so their toune teene gan spring;
Many a dulfull dint deled þei there.
But all þei were unware wisly too knowe
Of þat sorowfull asaute þat they so had;
For hadde þei knowe þe kast of þe Kyng stern,
They had kept well his cumme with carefull dintes.
Þei see no succour in no syde aboute,
That was come to hur koste þe king for to lett;
And Philip with his fresh folke so fast þem assailes,
That þei gradden hur griþ his grace to haue,
Him to taken þeir toune & trulich to serue,
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And redy to his retainaunce ryght as hee wolde.
Now is Philip full grym in fyght for to meete,
And many mightfull menne may with hym leade.
Attenes, þe trie toune hee tooke too his wyll,
The folke too fare with hym when hee fonde time.
Þe Citie of Assyrie is sett too his paye,
And all þe beurnes in þe borowe boune too his heste.
The Lordship of Larisse is lauht too himselue,
Men too cumme too his crie & kiþen þeir might.
Tessalonie þe trewe holde is turned too hym alse,
With all þe weies in þe won his werre too keepe.
Now is þat peeple full prest & preeued of strength
For too wirchen his will & wend at his neede.
Philip, for his ferse folke in fele oþer landes,
Doughtye men douten for dreedfull hee seemes.
By euery koste, þat hee com kid was his might,
For when hee medled him moste þe maistrie hee had.
And many mightfull menne may with hym leade.
Attenes, þe trie toune hee tooke too his wyll,
The folke too fare with hym when hee fonde time.
Þe Citie of Assyrie is sett too his paye,
And all þe beurnes in þe borowe boune too his heste.
The Lordship of Larisse is lauht too himselue,
Men too cumme too his crie & kiþen þeir might.
Tessalonie þe trewe holde is turned too hym alse,
With all þe weies in þe won his werre too keepe.
Now is þat peeple full prest & preeued of strength
For too wirchen his will & wend at his neede.
Philip, for his ferse folke in fele oþer landes,
Doughtye men douten for dreedfull hee seemes.
By euery koste, þat hee com kid was his might,
For when hee medled him moste þe maistrie hee had.
To profre þis process prestly too here,
I karp of a kid king Arisba was hote;
The Marques of Molosor menskliche hee aught,
For hee was King of þe kiþ & knight wel a-losed.
Hee had a suster in sight seemely to sonde,
The moste lufsum of life þat euere lud wyst;
Olympias þe onorable ouer all hue hyght.
Rose red was hur rode full riall of schape:
With large forhed & long loueliche tresses,
Glisiande as goldwire growen on length;
Bryght browse ibent blisfull of chere;
Grete yien, & graie gracious lippes;
Bothe cheekes, & chinne choice too beholde;
Mouth meete þertoo moste for too praise.
Hur nose namelich faire hur necke full scheene;
Schuft shulders aright well ischaped armes;
Hondes hendely wrought helplich, sweete;
Faire fyngers unfolde fetise nailes;
Sides seemely sett seemlich long.
Hupes had hue faire & hih was hue þan;
Hur þies all þorou-oute þristliche ischape,
With likand legges louely too seene;
And þe fairest feete þat euer freke kende,
With ton tidily wrought & tender of hur skinne.
Liliwhite was hur liche to likne þe beurde;
Where is þer lengged in lond a Lady so sweete?
Der sprong neuer spicerie so speciall in erþe,
Ne triacle in his taste so trie is too knowe,
As that Ladie, with loue too lachen in armes!
I karp of a kid king Arisba was hote;
The Marques of Molosor menskliche hee aught,
For hee was King of þe kiþ & knight wel a-losed.
Hee had a suster in sight seemely to sonde,
The moste lufsum of life þat euere lud wyst;
Olympias þe onorable ouer all hue hyght.
Rose red was hur rode full riall of schape:
With large forhed & long loueliche tresses,
Glisiande as goldwire growen on length;
Bryght browse ibent blisfull of chere;
Grete yien, & graie gracious lippes;
Bothe cheekes, & chinne choice too beholde;
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Hur nose namelich faire hur necke full scheene;
Schuft shulders aright well ischaped armes;
Hondes hendely wrought helplich, sweete;
Faire fyngers unfolde fetise nailes;
Sides seemely sett seemlich long.
Hupes had hue faire & hih was hue þan;
Hur þies all þorou-oute þristliche ischape,
With likand legges louely too seene;
And þe fairest feete þat euer freke kende,
With ton tidily wrought & tender of hur skinne.
Liliwhite was hur liche to likne þe beurde;
Where is þer lengged in lond a Lady so sweete?
Der sprong neuer spicerie so speciall in erþe,
Ne triacle in his taste so trie is too knowe,
As that Ladie, with loue too lachen in armes!
Wherfore I carp of þis case knowe yee may.
Philip þe free king that ferse was of myght,
For þe beurde so bryght was of blee scheene,
He had his liking ilaide þat Ladie too wedde.
Too Molosor with his menne hee meeued in haste,
Craued soone at þe Kyng þat comelich beurde,
For too welde too his wife as hee will hadde.
ðe king was full curtais & coflich hym grauntes,
For had hee werned þat wyght wo had hee suffred,
For þat freelich fode Philip, wolde eles
Haue geten [hire] with grim stroke of grounden tooles.
þat time thought þe Kyng to targe no lenger;
But bring þat blisfull to þe bern soone.
To kyng Philip hee comme as curteis of deede,
And laft hym þe Ladie to lache at his wyll.
For hee thought on this thing þroliche in hert,
ȝif hee had too his help in his hie neede
Of Macedoine þe King a mighty man holden,
To alie him too þat Lorde & his loue winne,
Þer shoulde no bydyng bern so bolde bee in erth,
Too teene hym untruly term of his reigne;
Ne to greeue þe gome for gremþe of his help,
The while Philip þe free hym frendship kid.
Hee was bitraide in his trust for truly þer-after,
When Sir Philip was fare with þe faire beurde,
And wedded þat wight with worship & ioye,
To bee Ladie of his land & his leeue make,
Men to queme hur as Queene & quiklich hur serue,
Bothe beurdes & bern[es] boune too hur wyll,
To Molosor with maine his menne gan hee bryng.
Y-armed at all pointes þei auntred hem ðider;
Mani a lud of þe lond raid hi to grounde,
And many a seemeli segge sorowe they wrought.
Þei laft for þo þe lond Lordshipes tooke,
Seseden þe cities and seemelich tounes,
Keuered hem casteles þe Kyng too distrie;
For his susteres sake cease they nolde,
That hee with werre ne wan þe won þat hee aught,
And þe Kyng of his kiþ with care þei pinte.
And Philip unfaithfully þe faire coste had,
Arisba in exile euer was after,
And neuer comme too his kiþ but caught was in teene.
With doole dried hee so his dayes in sorowe,
To hee gaf up his goste with God for too dwell.
Philip þe free king that ferse was of myght,
For þe beurde so bryght was of blee scheene,
He had his liking ilaide þat Ladie too wedde.
Too Molosor with his menne hee meeued in haste,
Craued soone at þe Kyng þat comelich beurde,
For too welde too his wife as hee will hadde.
ðe king was full curtais & coflich hym grauntes,
For had hee werned þat wyght wo had hee suffred,
For þat freelich fode Philip, wolde eles
Haue geten [hire] with grim stroke of grounden tooles.
þat time thought þe Kyng to targe no lenger;
But bring þat blisfull to þe bern soone.
To kyng Philip hee comme as curteis of deede,
And laft hym þe Ladie to lache at his wyll.
For hee thought on this thing þroliche in hert,
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Of Macedoine þe King a mighty man holden,
To alie him too þat Lorde & his loue winne,
Þer shoulde no bydyng bern so bolde bee in erth,
Too teene hym untruly term of his reigne;
Ne to greeue þe gome for gremþe of his help,
The while Philip þe free hym frendship kid.
Hee was bitraide in his trust for truly þer-after,
When Sir Philip was fare with þe faire beurde,
And wedded þat wight with worship & ioye,
To bee Ladie of his land & his leeue make,
Men to queme hur as Queene & quiklich hur serue,
Bothe beurdes & bern[es] boune too hur wyll,
To Molosor with maine his menne gan hee bryng.
Y-armed at all pointes þei auntred hem ðider;
Mani a lud of þe lond raid hi to grounde,
And many a seemeli segge sorowe they wrought.
Þei laft for þo þe lond Lordshipes tooke,
Seseden þe cities and seemelich tounes,
Keuered hem casteles þe Kyng too distrie;
For his susteres sake cease they nolde,
That hee with werre ne wan þe won þat hee aught,
And þe Kyng of his kiþ with care þei pinte.
And Philip unfaithfully þe faire coste had,
Arisba in exile euer was after,
And neuer comme too his kiþ but caught was in teene.
With doole dried hee so his dayes in sorowe,
To hee gaf up his goste with God for too dwell.
Of þat carefull kyng carp I no farre,
But leaue hym in languor & lysten too more,
How Philip chases as cheefe chaunces too fonde,
Too bee adouted as deth in diuers londes.
When he had so hem [hampred he] hendely fetched
His make too Macedoine with mirthes ynow.
He laught leue at his wife & laft hur still
For too liue in hur londe in liking of hert,
That no gome under God greeuen hur myght.
Philip his faire folke ferselich araies,
Too Greece he gra[i]þes hym now with a grete will.
Hee comme too Methone full cumlich a place,
Of any borowe best buylt & bolde menne þere,
One þe hugest holde & hard for too wynne,
That was in Greece o þe grounde graiþed too stond.
Hee brought his menne to þe borowe & bliue it asailes,
With prese of his power hee profers þem fyght.
Many a cumly Knight & oþer kid peeple
On euery side was sett asaute too make.
Þough Philip fared with folke ferefull in fyght,
Litle gained his greefe for grim thei were,
To warden þeir walles with weies ynow.
Þat citie wer sure men sett for too keepe,
With mich riall araie redy too fight,
With atling of areblast & archers ryfe.
Well feþered flon floungen aboute,
Grim arowes & graie with grounden hedes
Wer enforced to flie her fone for to greeue.
So bolde were in þe borowe with balefull strokes,
Þat of Philipes folke fele they slew,
And many mightfull men maymed hee þere,
Þat þe prent of þat prese passed neuer.
And Philip þe ferse King foule was maimed;
A schaft with a scharp hed shet oute his yie,
That neuer siþþen forsoþe sawe he therin.
Þe gremþe of þo grim folke glod to his hert,
For his eger enemies his yie to lese.
Hee made a uery uow auenged too beene
Of þat teenefull tach þat hee tooke þere,
And swore swiftlich his othe aswage hee ne sholde,
With all þe maine þat hee might too merken hem care,
For to take þe toune þough hee teene had,
All þe segges in sight sorowe too kiþe.
But leaue hym in languor & lysten too more,
How Philip chases as cheefe chaunces too fonde,
Too bee adouted as deth in diuers londes.
185
His make too Macedoine with mirthes ynow.
He laught leue at his wife & laft hur still
For too liue in hur londe in liking of hert,
That no gome under God greeuen hur myght.
Philip his faire folke ferselich araies,
Too Greece he gra[i]þes hym now with a grete will.
Hee comme too Methone full cumlich a place,
Of any borowe best buylt & bolde menne þere,
One þe hugest holde & hard for too wynne,
That was in Greece o þe grounde graiþed too stond.
Hee brought his menne to þe borowe & bliue it asailes,
With prese of his power hee profers þem fyght.
Many a cumly Knight & oþer kid peeple
On euery side was sett asaute too make.
Þough Philip fared with folke ferefull in fyght,
Litle gained his greefe for grim thei were,
To warden þeir walles with weies ynow.
Þat citie wer sure men sett for too keepe,
With mich riall araie redy too fight,
With atling of areblast & archers ryfe.
Well feþered flon floungen aboute,
Grim arowes & graie with grounden hedes
Wer enforced to flie her fone for to greeue.
So bolde were in þe borowe with balefull strokes,
Þat of Philipes folke fele they slew,
And many mightfull men maymed hee þere,
Þat þe prent of þat prese passed neuer.
And Philip þe ferse King foule was maimed;
A schaft with a scharp hed shet oute his yie,
That neuer siþþen forsoþe sawe he therin.
Þe gremþe of þo grim folke glod to his hert,
186
Hee made a uery uow auenged too beene
Of þat teenefull tach þat hee tooke þere,
And swore swiftlich his othe aswage hee ne sholde,
With all þe maine þat hee might too merken hem care,
For to take þe toune þough hee teene had,
All þe segges in sight sorowe too kiþe.
Philip enforceth hym now his folke for to gie;
Hee rydes thorough-oute þe ronk araies him neew.
Many mightfull menne made hee stryue,
With archers & oþer folke auntred hym nere.
Þei lete flie to þe flocke ferefull sondes,
Gainus grounden aryght gonne they dryue,
Stones stirred they þo & stightlich layde
On hur engines full gist to ungome þe walles.
Þei craked þe cournales with carefull dyntes,
Þat spedly to-sprong & spradde beside.
Þe Kyng with his keene ost coflich fightes.
And kiþes all þat hee can þe kiþ for to haue;
Þei [sesen] on þe citie soothe for too tell,
Hur borowe bet so doune with balefull strokes,
And hemself in þe saute sorowfully wounded;
And many a lifeles lud layed to þe grounde,
Þat þei ne stirred of þe stede strife for to make.
Hur ȝates ȝeede þei too & youlden hem soone,
To Philip farde þei forthe as fenked wightes,
Profred hym þe pris holde & preies in haste
To deeme what hee doo will for hur deede yll.
Dus was þe citie of-sett & siþþen so wonne;
But many a balefull beurn bought it full dere,
Or kid Methone too þe Kyng fell.
In Greece, many a grete toune grim was of strength,
And þe menne of þat marche misproude were;
Thei were so ding of þeir deede ded[a]in þat they had,
Þat any gome under god gouern hem sholde.
But as they sayden hemself and assent made,
Þei nere encline to no King hur kiþ for too gye.
They wrought by þeir owne will & wolde nought eles,
To seche þem a Souereine þe Citie to ȝeme.
Farre þen þeir owne folke fare they nolde,
What lud liked hem best þe Lordship hee gat,
And on chees for cheefe & chaunged lome.
All swich cities þat seemelich were,
Philip fenkes in fyght & fayled lyte,
That all Greece hee ne gatt with his grim werk.
In what maner & how men may i lere,
Þat hee withlich whanne þe worship of Greece,
To bee holden of hym holly þe raigne,
For to gye þe gomes as hym goode thought.
Hee rydes thorough-oute þe ronk araies him neew.
Many mightfull menne made hee stryue,
With archers & oþer folke auntred hym nere.
Þei lete flie to þe flocke ferefull sondes,
Gainus grounden aryght gonne they dryue,
Stones stirred they þo & stightlich layde
On hur engines full gist to ungome þe walles.
Þei craked þe cournales with carefull dyntes,
Þat spedly to-sprong & spradde beside.
Þe Kyng with his keene ost coflich fightes.
And kiþes all þat hee can þe kiþ for to haue;
Þei [sesen] on þe citie soothe for too tell,
Hur borowe bet so doune with balefull strokes,
And hemself in þe saute sorowfully wounded;
And many a lifeles lud layed to þe grounde,
Þat þei ne stirred of þe stede strife for to make.
Hur ȝates ȝeede þei too & youlden hem soone,
To Philip farde þei forthe as fenked wightes,
Profred hym þe pris holde & preies in haste
To deeme what hee doo will for hur deede yll.
Dus was þe citie of-sett & siþþen so wonne;
But many a balefull beurn bought it full dere,
187
In Greece, many a grete toune grim was of strength,
And þe menne of þat marche misproude were;
Thei were so ding of þeir deede ded[a]in þat they had,
Þat any gome under god gouern hem sholde.
But as they sayden hemself and assent made,
Þei nere encline to no King hur kiþ for too gye.
They wrought by þeir owne will & wolde nought eles,
To seche þem a Souereine þe Citie to ȝeme.
Farre þen þeir owne folke fare they nolde,
What lud liked hem best þe Lordship hee gat,
And on chees for cheefe & chaunged lome.
All swich cities þat seemelich were,
Philip fenkes in fyght & fayled lyte,
That all Greece hee ne gatt with his grim werk.
In what maner & how men may i lere,
Þat hee withlich whanne þe worship of Greece,
To bee holden of hym holly þe raigne,
For to gye þe gomes as hym goode thought.
Now tell wee of Tebes that tristy was holde,
There as Philip þe free to fostring dwelt,
How þe ludes of the land a-losed for gode,
Wer enforced to fight with hur fone hard.
Þer turned a-ȝe Tebes twoo trie places,
Þe sikerest cities that any seg wist;
Þe Lordship of Lacedemonie loþed hem than,
And of Phocos þe folke fast hem assailes.
Þe werre wox in þat won wonderly stern,
And eiþer on hur enemies egerly wrought.
On a season isett assembled they boþe,
With all þe maine þat they might metten ifere;
Araide rinkes aright reulich smiten,
On foote & on faire horsse fought þei samme.
Priken on a plaine feelde preeued Knightes,
Bolde were bore doune on bothe twoo halues.
Of Tebes þe trie folke wer teened in hert,
For hur ferefull fone so ferslich spedde,
With wrayth of a woode will wonde þei nolde,
To riden into the route rappes to deale.
Steedes stirred of þe stede strane men under,
And oother folke on hur feete folowed them after.
The Lacedemonieins lowe laide were,
And of Phocus folke feld they also.
The Tebenieins teenfully tooke this oþer,
And to a riche raunson þe rinkes they putt,
That amounted [to] more then they might paye,
Or dereine with right with rede of þemself,
To profer hem as prisoneres till they payde had,
To let loþely þat goode or hur life tine.
Þe companie was carefull & kest in hur hert,
Þat þei þat raunson with right arere ne might,
Þei wer so sorowfull hemself that summe to rere,
Þat þei ne spared þat space to spenen hur liues.
A proude Knight of þe prese hur Prince þei made,
Philomelo þe fell man was þe freke hote,
Þe folke of Phocus too araie & þe fight ȝeme,
With ludes of Lacedemonie to leggen on hard;
For they kende þe case & kneew eche one,
But thei prestly payde that precious summe,
Þei sholde leesen hur life þei þem lothe thought.
And ȝif þei ferde to fight their fone for to nye,
With skathe to bee skoumfit & askape neuer,
Þei wisten all full well wisly to knowe,
That more dreede þen deth drie þei ne might;
As goode thought hem go till they grounde sought,
To meete with hur fomen & manlich deie,
As bee cowardly killd for cateles want.
Forthe turned thei tid hur teene to uenge,
All to lachen or leese or hur lyfe tine.
Full stoutely with stiff will þei stirred on hur gate,
To teene þe Tebenieins þei turned to fight.
Þei dradden litle hur deth & doughtily wrought,
Þei putt þem in perril & prikeden aboute,
Þei rought lite of hur life & laiden on hard;
For fere, ne fantasie faile they nolde.
Þei were so hardie too harm happes to fonde,
Þat þei þat stint at hur stroke stirred no more;
So þei felden hur fone by force of her dintes.
For greefe of hur grim stroke grunt full many,
Þat hem rued þe res þat þei ne rest had,
Whan þei þe bikering abide with bostefull deedes.
Þus Phosus with fyght felden this oþer;
Þei tooken hur tresour & teened hem sore.
Þei of Tebes with teene turnede fro thanne
Ruefull & redeles biraft of hur goodes.
In sorowe bene they of-sett to siken in hert,
ȝif þei ne haue none help hem to auenge.
There as Philip þe free to fostring dwelt,
How þe ludes of the land a-losed for gode,
Wer enforced to fight with hur fone hard.
Þer turned a-ȝe Tebes twoo trie places,
Þe sikerest cities that any seg wist;
Þe Lordship of Lacedemonie loþed hem than,
And of Phocos þe folke fast hem assailes.
Þe werre wox in þat won wonderly stern,
188
On a season isett assembled they boþe,
With all þe maine þat they might metten ifere;
Araide rinkes aright reulich smiten,
On foote & on faire horsse fought þei samme.
Priken on a plaine feelde preeued Knightes,
Bolde were bore doune on bothe twoo halues.
Of Tebes þe trie folke wer teened in hert,
For hur ferefull fone so ferslich spedde,
With wrayth of a woode will wonde þei nolde,
To riden into the route rappes to deale.
Steedes stirred of þe stede strane men under,
And oother folke on hur feete folowed them after.
The Lacedemonieins lowe laide were,
And of Phocus folke feld they also.
The Tebenieins teenfully tooke this oþer,
And to a riche raunson þe rinkes they putt,
That amounted [to] more then they might paye,
Or dereine with right with rede of þemself,
To profer hem as prisoneres till they payde had,
To let loþely þat goode or hur life tine.
Þe companie was carefull & kest in hur hert,
Þat þei þat raunson with right arere ne might,
Þei wer so sorowfull hemself that summe to rere,
Þat þei ne spared þat space to spenen hur liues.
A proude Knight of þe prese hur Prince þei made,
Philomelo þe fell man was þe freke hote,
Þe folke of Phocus too araie & þe fight ȝeme,
With ludes of Lacedemonie to leggen on hard;
For they kende þe case & kneew eche one,
But thei prestly payde that precious summe,
Þei sholde leesen hur life þei þem lothe thought.
189
With skathe to bee skoumfit & askape neuer,
Þei wisten all full well wisly to knowe,
That more dreede þen deth drie þei ne might;
As goode thought hem go till they grounde sought,
To meete with hur fomen & manlich deie,
As bee cowardly killd for cateles want.
Forthe turned thei tid hur teene to uenge,
All to lachen or leese or hur lyfe tine.
Full stoutely with stiff will þei stirred on hur gate,
To teene þe Tebenieins þei turned to fight.
Þei dradden litle hur deth & doughtily wrought,
Þei putt þem in perril & prikeden aboute,
Þei rought lite of hur life & laiden on hard;
For fere, ne fantasie faile they nolde.
Þei were so hardie too harm happes to fonde,
Þat þei þat stint at hur stroke stirred no more;
So þei felden hur fone by force of her dintes.
For greefe of hur grim stroke grunt full many,
Þat hem rued þe res þat þei ne rest had,
Whan þei þe bikering abide with bostefull deedes.
Þus Phosus with fyght felden this oþer;
Þei tooken hur tresour & teened hem sore.
Þei of Tebes with teene turnede fro thanne
Ruefull & redeles biraft of hur goodes.
In sorowe bene they of-sett to siken in hert,
ȝif þei ne haue none help hem to auenge.
For ðis feye folk ðer so fouli was harmed,
Till þei were wreken of þat wo wolde þei nought blinne;
To seeche more socour assented they all.
Þe mightie King of Macedoyne moste was adouted
Of any wight in þe worlde þei wist þe soothe.
To fetch Philip, þe folke farde in an haste,
And comen ryght to þe kith þere þe King dwelt,
Besoughten hym of socour hur Soueraine to bene,
To be Lorde of hur land þeir lawes to keepe,
Þei to holden of hym þe hye & the lowe,
With þat hee wolde with hem wend in an haste,
Hur enemies egerly in ernest to meete.
Philip grauntes & gose graithes his peple,
Til þei to Tebes wer turned targe þei nolde.
With his ferefull folke to Phocus hee rides,
And is wilfull in werk to wirchen hem care.
Folke of Phocus to fere or the fight comme,
Weren ware of hur werk & went for help.
Þei armed þe Atteniens & aunter hem þider,
Strained in stel ger on steedes of might,
With grim graiþed gomes of Lacedemonie,
All redie araied to ryden hem till.
Hem lacked a leader þe ludes to araie,
Hur Prince in þe forme prese was prened to þe erth,
Philomelo þe faire Knight in þe fight died.
When þei proffred hem prest & þe pris wonne,
For þei myssed þat man they made hem a neew.
Enomanus, an eger Knyght in erth to fight,
Þei made master of hem þe menne for too leade,
And busken to battaile as bostfull in armes,
With a leflich lust lachte togeder.
Of Phocus þe fell Duke in þe fight rydes;
Enomanus þe bolde beurn þe battle araies,
Hee was chosen for cheefe in chasing of werre,
Too bee þeir dereworthe Duke for doughtie hee thought.
Till þei were wreken of þat wo wolde þei nought blinne;
To seeche more socour assented they all.
Þe mightie King of Macedoyne moste was adouted
Of any wight in þe worlde þei wist þe soothe.
190
And comen ryght to þe kith þere þe King dwelt,
Besoughten hym of socour hur Soueraine to bene,
To be Lorde of hur land þeir lawes to keepe,
Þei to holden of hym þe hye & the lowe,
With þat hee wolde with hem wend in an haste,
Hur enemies egerly in ernest to meete.
Philip grauntes & gose graithes his peple,
Til þei to Tebes wer turned targe þei nolde.
With his ferefull folke to Phocus hee rides,
And is wilfull in werk to wirchen hem care.
Folke of Phocus to fere or the fight comme,
Weren ware of hur werk & went for help.
Þei armed þe Atteniens & aunter hem þider,
Strained in stel ger on steedes of might,
With grim graiþed gomes of Lacedemonie,
All redie araied to ryden hem till.
Hem lacked a leader þe ludes to araie,
Hur Prince in þe forme prese was prened to þe erth,
Philomelo þe faire Knight in þe fight died.
When þei proffred hem prest & þe pris wonne,
For þei myssed þat man they made hem a neew.
Enomanus, an eger Knyght in erth to fight,
Þei made master of hem þe menne for too leade,
And busken to battaile as bostfull in armes,
With a leflich lust lachte togeder.
Of Phocus þe fell Duke in þe fight rydes;
Enomanus þe bolde beurn þe battle araies,
Hee was chosen for cheefe in chasing of werre,
Too bee þeir dereworthe Duke for doughtie hee thought.
Now beene þe parties prest to proffren hur dintes,
With baners brode displaide busken to meete,
Gurden in goode speede grislich farde,
Bothe blonkes & beurn[es] baren to grounde.
Þer was feld many frekes þat on þe feelde lay,
Euery segge for hymself bisetten hur might,
Þat many a wounded wyght walowed þere.
But Philip with his wight men þe werre gan ȝeme,
Þat by strength of her strife þei straught to foote
All so many as his menne mighten areche.
Þus his peple on þe plain all þe pris wonne,
Þat none stirred of þe stede þere þei stroke sett.
Þe ludes of Lacedemonie loþed in hert,
þat euer þei stinten in strife to sterue in þe place.
Of Phocus þe ferse men forthoughten hem all,
Þat euer þei farde to fight with Philip þe keene.
Þus þis cumlich Kyng þat ilche kith wynnes;
Lorde of Lacedemoine was þe lud þanne,
And Phocus by fin strokes freelich hee walte,
And hathe all Greece at his graunte for his grete yie.
With baners brode displaide busken to meete,
Gurden in goode speede grislich farde,
191
Þer was feld many frekes þat on þe feelde lay,
Euery segge for hymself bisetten hur might,
Þat many a wounded wyght walowed þere.
But Philip with his wight men þe werre gan ȝeme,
Þat by strength of her strife þei straught to foote
All so many as his menne mighten areche.
Þus his peple on þe plain all þe pris wonne,
Þat none stirred of þe stede þere þei stroke sett.
Þe ludes of Lacedemonie loþed in hert,
þat euer þei stinten in strife to sterue in þe place.
Of Phocus þe ferse men forthoughten hem all,
Þat euer þei farde to fight with Philip þe keene.
Þus þis cumlich Kyng þat ilche kith wynnes;
Lorde of Lacedemoine was þe lud þanne,
And Phocus by fin strokes freelich hee walte,
And hathe all Greece at his graunte for his grete yie.
Now cease wee þe sawe of þis seg sterne,
And of a Kyng wel i-kid karp wee now,
Þat entred in Ægypt euer on his liue,
To leng in þat Lordeship & þe lond aught.
Of what kinne hee comme can I nought fynde
In no buke þat i bed when I beganne here
Þe Latine to þis language lelliche turne.
Nectanabus þe noble man his name was hote,
Þe nede of Nigremauncie hee nas nought to lern.
In art of Astronomie able hee was holde,
And cheefe of enchauntment chaunces to tell.
Hee was [kene] on his craft & cunnyng of deede,
Egipt by eritage entred hee neuer;
Hee wanne it by witchcraft for y-wis hee was knowe.
A proude Prince & a pris fro Perss was fare,
Þat helde of þis hye King hollich his londes.
To noble Nectanabus nam he his gate,
And tolde this tydyng to þe Kyng soone,
How hym was care to cumme by costes aboute.
“Þe Kyng of Perce with prese of peple full huge
Graithes hym grim folke & greue ȝou thenketh.
But yee cast at his comme to keepen hym hence,
Yee shall lose your lond & your life also.”
For no care of þis case þe King in his lond
Kleped no Knighthod ne no kid peeple,
Hee ne araide no route þe raigne too keepe,
But passed priuily in place full derne.
A prest erþen pott hee proferes him till;
Of rain-water ryght full þe rink gon it dress;
A bright braseyn ȝerd brode on his hond.
And by þe conning of craft þat hee kid hadde,
Hee sawe saile on þe sea seemelich Knightes,
Bothe schippes & schoute[s] with schawes of myght,
Well i-armed, iwis werre too holde,
Þe egerest of Egipt in ernest too meete.
And of a Kyng wel i-kid karp wee now,
Þat entred in Ægypt euer on his liue,
To leng in þat Lordeship & þe lond aught.
Of what kinne hee comme can I nought fynde
In no buke þat i bed when I beganne here
Þe Latine to þis language lelliche turne.
Nectanabus þe noble man his name was hote,
Þe nede of Nigremauncie hee nas nought to lern.
In art of Astronomie able hee was holde,
And cheefe of enchauntment chaunces to tell.
Hee was [kene] on his craft & cunnyng of deede,
Egipt by eritage entred hee neuer;
Hee wanne it by witchcraft for y-wis hee was knowe.
192
Þat helde of þis hye King hollich his londes.
To noble Nectanabus nam he his gate,
And tolde this tydyng to þe Kyng soone,
How hym was care to cumme by costes aboute.
“Þe Kyng of Perce with prese of peple full huge
Graithes hym grim folke & greue ȝou thenketh.
But yee cast at his comme to keepen hym hence,
Yee shall lose your lond & your life also.”
For no care of þis case þe King in his lond
Kleped no Knighthod ne no kid peeple,
Hee ne araide no route þe raigne too keepe,
But passed priuily in place full derne.
A prest erþen pott hee proferes him till;
Of rain-water ryght full þe rink gon it dress;
A bright braseyn ȝerd brode on his hond.
And by þe conning of craft þat hee kid hadde,
Hee sawe saile on þe sea seemelich Knightes,
Bothe schippes & schoute[s] with schawes of myght,
Well i-armed, iwis werre too holde,
Þe egerest of Egipt in ernest too meete.
Whan hee had þat happe hollich awaited,
Þe Prince to þe pris Kyng prestly saide,
“Sir, I tolde you trouth trist yee no nooþer,
Yee beene greefly bigo but grace you falle.
Artasarses þe Kyng & armed Knightes,
Oute of Perce beth prest passing hider,
With nine grete nations too nye þee here.
Perce is þe principall & Perthe þat ooþer,
Of Medie full mich folke murder þee think;
Of Syria [a] siker oste sechen too fight;
With menne of Mesopotame too mark þe teene;
Of Augmi & Arabes armed Princes;
Þer beene of Bosorij beurnes ynow;
Of Arofagi all men that armes now welde.
Yee bene enforced to fight with þus fell beurnes,
And ooþer weies of þe weste werre too make;
Þis ilk tydyng of teene trowe yee mowe,
And but yee bett beene araide bale you springeth.”
Þe Prince to þe pris Kyng prestly saide,
“Sir, I tolde you trouth trist yee no nooþer,
Yee beene greefly bigo but grace you falle.
Artasarses þe Kyng & armed Knightes,
Oute of Perce beth prest passing hider,
With nine grete nations too nye þee here.
Perce is þe principall & Perthe þat ooþer,
Of Medie full mich folke murder þee think;
Of Syria [a] siker oste sechen too fight;
193
Of Augmi & Arabes armed Princes;
Þer beene of Bosorij beurnes ynow;
Of Arofagi all men that armes now welde.
Yee bene enforced to fight with þus fell beurnes,
And ooþer weies of þe weste werre too make;
Þis ilk tydyng of teene trowe yee mowe,
And but yee bett beene araide bale you springeth.”
Nectanabus anonne right nyed hym tyll,
And gleming gainelich too þe gome saide—
“Keepe well thyne owne koste þat þei no komme ðare,
Þat is take too þee truly too ȝeme.
Þou kiþes no Knighthod too karp as a Prince,
But as a gome wer agast þou grendes thy speeche.
Þei ðei turn such teene this time hider,
With all þe might of hur maine mee too distroie,
Þe uertue of il uictorie of unwele peeple,
Is noght stabled in strength of no stiff prese.
Thorou graunte of þe greate God if him goode thinkes,
In fight or in fell turn ðer as flight is of dintes,
In battail or bolde stede bigly too wirch,
As mich may a meane man as a more stern,
For þou seeste well thiself (saide þe king þan),
A Lioun in a launde may lightlych driue
Of hertes an holle herde as happes ilome;
For no strength, ne strife no stifnes of members,
But as gracious Godde grauntes too beene.”
And gleming gainelich too þe gome saide—
“Keepe well thyne owne koste þat þei no komme ðare,
Þat is take too þee truly too ȝeme.
Þou kiþes no Knighthod too karp as a Prince,
But as a gome wer agast þou grendes thy speeche.
Þei ðei turn such teene this time hider,
With all þe might of hur maine mee too distroie,
Þe uertue of il uictorie of unwele peeple,
Is noght stabled in strength of no stiff prese.
Thorou graunte of þe greate God if him goode thinkes,
In fight or in fell turn ðer as flight is of dintes,
In battail or bolde stede bigly too wirch,
As mich may a meane man as a more stern,
For þou seeste well thiself (saide þe king þan),
A Lioun in a launde may lightlych driue
Of hertes an holle herde as happes ilome;
For no strength, ne strife no stifnes of members,
But as gracious Godde grauntes too beene.”
Anon as Nectanabus had namned þese wordes,
Hee passed in his Paleis too a priuie sell,
Hee tooke prestly a pott too preeue yet more.
Hee wraught shipps of wax & rain-water hentes;
Hee puttes it in þe pott & a palme braunche
Hee helde hard in his hond & his art kiþes;
With all þe wyle of his werk þe waie gon enchaunte,
By segging of sorsery þat hee sei þere
Fleete in þe floode farre fro þe lond,
Of Barbre þe bryght God brem too beholde;
Þe gaye God of Egipt glisiande bright,
So sailed in þe sea in that same tyme.
Hee bihelde how þe God þat heried was in Barbre
Gouerned hur goodes by grace of his myght.
Þe seg sei well himself þat socour him fayles,
For no grace hur grete God graunt ne might;
Of hem hoped hee help too haue at his neede,
But hee kneew by that kast þei kouth noght help.
Þe beurn for a barbour bliue let send,
His berd, heire, & his hedde hett hee too schaue.
Hee cast of his Knightweede & cloþes hym neew,
With white sendal in syght seemely too knowe,
Of gold swith gret won graithes hee ðanne;
All that Astronomie aught too long,
With ginnes of Gemetrie too ioinen his werkes,
Hee let trusse full tid & takes nomore,
But fares with few folke farre fro þe londe.
Hee passes as a Prophet priuely þanne
Fro Egipt till Ethiope & eft on his gate.
Þere hee lenged in þat land as a lud straunge
Men kneew hym for no king kunnyng hee seemes.
Whan his menskfull menne might no ught fynde
Hur ked King in Egipt carefull þei were.
To hur God Seraphin þe gomes gon all
Koure doune on hur knees [&] karpen þese wordes.
“Seemely Seraphin” saide they thanne,
“Tell us sum tydyng of our true Prince,
Noble Nectanabus that now is awaye!”
Hur God grathliche spake & too þe gomes saide,
“Kares nought for your Kyng þis kith hath hee lete,
For peril of þe proude Kyng from Perce þat wendes;
Hee shall hye hym againe & help you faire,
And schend þem schamelich þat sholde you greue.”
Of þis swift answer þei wer swith glad,
And graueden a greate ston a God as it were,
I-corue after a Kyng full craftie of werk.
Þe frekes in that faire ston at his feete soone
Let write euery worde wisly too knowe,
That Seraphin þat Soueraine saide hem till,
In mynde that more folke myght it arede.
Hee passed in his Paleis too a priuie sell,
Hee tooke prestly a pott too preeue yet more.
194
Hee puttes it in þe pott & a palme braunche
Hee helde hard in his hond & his art kiþes;
With all þe wyle of his werk þe waie gon enchaunte,
By segging of sorsery þat hee sei þere
Fleete in þe floode farre fro þe lond,
Of Barbre þe bryght God brem too beholde;
Þe gaye God of Egipt glisiande bright,
So sailed in þe sea in that same tyme.
Hee bihelde how þe God þat heried was in Barbre
Gouerned hur goodes by grace of his myght.
Þe seg sei well himself þat socour him fayles,
For no grace hur grete God graunt ne might;
Of hem hoped hee help too haue at his neede,
But hee kneew by that kast þei kouth noght help.
Þe beurn for a barbour bliue let send,
His berd, heire, & his hedde hett hee too schaue.
Hee cast of his Knightweede & cloþes hym neew,
With white sendal in syght seemely too knowe,
Of gold swith gret won graithes hee ðanne;
All that Astronomie aught too long,
With ginnes of Gemetrie too ioinen his werkes,
Hee let trusse full tid & takes nomore,
But fares with few folke farre fro þe londe.
Hee passes as a Prophet priuely þanne
Fro Egipt till Ethiope & eft on his gate.
Þere hee lenged in þat land as a lud straunge
Men kneew hym for no king kunnyng hee seemes.
Whan his menskfull menne might no ught fynde
Hur ked King in Egipt carefull þei were.
To hur God Seraphin þe gomes gon all
Koure doune on hur knees [&] karpen þese wordes.
195
“Tell us sum tydyng of our true Prince,
Noble Nectanabus that now is awaye!”
Hur God grathliche spake & too þe gomes saide,
“Kares nought for your Kyng þis kith hath hee lete,
For peril of þe proude Kyng from Perce þat wendes;
Hee shall hye hym againe & help you faire,
And schend þem schamelich þat sholde you greue.”
Of þis swift answer þei wer swith glad,
And graueden a greate ston a God as it were,
I-corue after a Kyng full craftie of werk.
Þe frekes in that faire ston at his feete soone
Let write euery worde wisly too knowe,
That Seraphin þat Soueraine saide hem till,
In mynde that more folke myght it arede.
Now nolde Nectanabus no while dwell,
Too þe Courte of þe Kyng till hee comme were,
Too looke on Olympias þe onorable Queene,
Þat was alosed in lond of diueres raignes,
For one þe brightest of blee þat bore was in erth.
Whan þe seg had seene that seemely Ladie,
Too greete that gracious hee gose in a haste,
Hee cummes too þat comely & coflich saide:
“Haile! quemfull Queene quaintly shape!
Moste of all Macedoine menskfull Ladie!”
Hee was dedaine on his deede “Madame” too segge
Too any Ladie in lond for lordlich hee karpes.
Þe Queene quitt hym his speche & quikly saide,
“Maister, welcome, ywis will[e] yee sitte?”
Þe Ladie laches þis lude & ledes in hand;
By hur side þat seg too sitten hue makes.
Þat worthlych too þis wight wilsfully saide:
“Fro what kith bee yee comme kennes mee now;
Ert þou aught of Egipt in ernest too tell?”
“Queene,” saide hee quikly “þou quemest my hert;
A full speciall speeche spoken yee haue.
Where euer menne saye ‘Egipt’ myne eres ar prest,
For þat wortlich worde waketh my bliss.
It is a Knightly kith & kid men inne,
Of any wightes in wonne wysest i-holde.
Þei bene rinkes aright in reching of sweuenes,
Too preeue-mich priuie thyng & pypyng of birdes.
Þe ludene of þat language lelli þei knowe,
And bothe of burdes & bern[es] þe burth too tell.
I am a lude of þat lond lered therin,
Too preche as a Prophet preeued of witt.”
When hee þese tales her till had tolde soone,
Þe face of þat faire thyng fast hee beholdes.
“Lude,” saide þe Lady “let mee iknowe
What thing thurlude thy thought þo þou mee bihelde?’
“Forsoothe,” saide that seg “seemely Queene,
I segge, God sent mee too saue thee now,
For too waste thy wo with wille þat I owe.
Thorou bone of a bright God busked I hider,
Too defend fro doole þee dereworth Queene.”
Too þe Courte of þe Kyng till hee comme were,
Too looke on Olympias þe onorable Queene,
Þat was alosed in lond of diueres raignes,
For one þe brightest of blee þat bore was in erth.
Whan þe seg had seene that seemely Ladie,
Too greete that gracious hee gose in a haste,
Hee cummes too þat comely & coflich saide:
“Haile! quemfull Queene quaintly shape!
Moste of all Macedoine menskfull Ladie!”
Hee was dedaine on his deede “Madame” too segge
Too any Ladie in lond for lordlich hee karpes.
Þe Queene quitt hym his speche & quikly saide,
“Maister, welcome, ywis will[e] yee sitte?”
Þe Ladie laches þis lude & ledes in hand;
By hur side þat seg too sitten hue makes.
Þat worthlych too þis wight wilsfully saide:
“Fro what kith bee yee comme kennes mee now;
Ert þou aught of Egipt in ernest too tell?”
196
A full speciall speeche spoken yee haue.
Where euer menne saye ‘Egipt’ myne eres ar prest,
For þat wortlich worde waketh my bliss.
It is a Knightly kith & kid men inne,
Of any wightes in wonne wysest i-holde.
Þei bene rinkes aright in reching of sweuenes,
Too preeue-mich priuie thyng & pypyng of birdes.
Þe ludene of þat language lelli þei knowe,
And bothe of burdes & bern[es] þe burth too tell.
I am a lude of þat lond lered therin,
Too preche as a Prophet preeued of witt.”
When hee þese tales her till had tolde soone,
Þe face of þat faire thyng fast hee beholdes.
“Lude,” saide þe Lady “let mee iknowe
What thing thurlude thy thought þo þou mee bihelde?’
“Forsoothe,” saide that seg “seemely Queene,
I segge, God sent mee too saue thee now,
For too waste thy wo with wille þat I owe.
Thorou bone of a bright God busked I hider,
Too defend fro doole þee dereworth Queene.”
Whan hee with speede had spoke his speche to þe end,
A brem brasen borde bringes hee soone,
Imped in iuory too incle þe truthe,
With goode siluer & golde gailich atired.
In this blisfull borde beholde men myght
Three circles isett seemelich rounde.
Þe first cirkle in himself seemely was holde,
Þe twelue signes in sight sett þerin.
If any wight in this wonne wilnes þem knowe,
Kairus to þe Kalender & kenne yee may.
Sithen in þe seconde circle soothely too lere,
Was craftely conteined þe course of þe sonne;
And þe mark of þe moone made in þe third,
Þat bliss was for a beurn þat borde too biholde.
Þan fettes hee a forcer freelich ischape,
Þat wraught was of iuory wonderly faire;
Seuin sterres þat stounde stoutlich imaked,
Hee showes forthe scheenely shynand bright.
Þe bern couth þerby boldely tell,
When a gome were igett by grace of his witt.
Foure stones in fath forthe gon hee bryng,
Þat lay longyng too the louelich sterres;
Many thinges of man myght hee showe,
By studie of þe stones in what state hee were.
“Maister,” quath þe Queene “quainte of thy werkes,
If þee liketh þat I leeue thy lufsum deedes,
Tell mee tidly þe time & term of þe ȝeres,
In what daie my dere Lorde þat douhti is holde,
Was iborne of þe burd þat hee best loued?”
Þe King by his kunnyng castes it soone;
By ginnes of Gemetrie hee ioifully telles
Bothe þe date, & þe daie & þe dere tyme,
Þat Philip was forth brought of his faire mooder.
Whan this rink had arad & redely showed,
All þe burth of þe bern by his art one,
“Ladie,” saide hee, “louelyche liketh þee aught eles,
Þat I shoolde þee showe in a short time?”
“Maister,” saide þat menskfull “mee likes too knowe,
What Philip my free lorde þat fairest of londe,
Wil wirch by mee? for weies mee tolde,
Hee wyll forsake mee soone & seeche hym a neew,
Whan hee is cumme too þis kith too kithe mee sorowe.”—
A brem brasen borde bringes hee soone,
Imped in iuory too incle þe truthe,
With goode siluer & golde gailich atired.
In this blisfull borde beholde men myght
Three circles isett seemelich rounde.
Þe first cirkle in himself seemely was holde,
Þe twelue signes in sight sett þerin.
If any wight in this wonne wilnes þem knowe,
Kairus to þe Kalender & kenne yee may.
Sithen in þe seconde circle soothely too lere,
197
And þe mark of þe moone made in þe third,
Þat bliss was for a beurn þat borde too biholde.
Þan fettes hee a forcer freelich ischape,
Þat wraught was of iuory wonderly faire;
Seuin sterres þat stounde stoutlich imaked,
Hee showes forthe scheenely shynand bright.
Þe bern couth þerby boldely tell,
When a gome were igett by grace of his witt.
Foure stones in fath forthe gon hee bryng,
Þat lay longyng too the louelich sterres;
Many thinges of man myght hee showe,
By studie of þe stones in what state hee were.
“Maister,” quath þe Queene “quainte of thy werkes,
If þee liketh þat I leeue thy lufsum deedes,
Tell mee tidly þe time & term of þe ȝeres,
In what daie my dere Lorde þat douhti is holde,
Was iborne of þe burd þat hee best loued?”
Þe King by his kunnyng castes it soone;
By ginnes of Gemetrie hee ioifully telles
Bothe þe date, & þe daie & þe dere tyme,
Þat Philip was forth brought of his faire mooder.
Whan this rink had arad & redely showed,
All þe burth of þe bern by his art one,
“Ladie,” saide hee, “louelyche liketh þee aught eles,
Þat I shoolde þee showe in a short time?”
“Maister,” saide þat menskfull “mee likes too knowe,
What Philip my free lorde þat fairest of londe,
Wil wirch by mee? for weies mee tolde,
Hee wyll forsake mee soone & seeche hym a neew,
Whan hee is cumme too þis kith too kithe mee sorowe.”—
For yee ne haue noght i-herd holly þe wrath,
By what cause þe Kyng coueted in hert
Too loþe this Ladie mee list you tell.
As Philip farde to fight in a ferce place,
Hee turned too a temple atired too-rightes,
His grete God Amon grates too ȝelde;
Hee kneeles coflich adoune & kries hym till,
And saide, “Seemely God send mee too knowe,
Of onorable Olympias þat I on think,
What shall hur happe to haue þat hende is of deede?”
His God gaue an ansuer & too þe gome saide,
“Hur chaunce is too haue a childe þat cheefe shall in erth
Of any ludes þat liue in Lordship wex.
Þe bern shall not bee ðine bolde þo þou seeme,
But geten of a-nooþer gome in þat gaye burde.”
Þen was þe King carefull & kest for wrath
For too bring þat beurde in baile for euer.
Menne tolde this tydyng too þe true Queene,
Þerfore hur lyked þat lud his lore too knowe.—
By what cause þe Kyng coueted in hert
198
As Philip farde to fight in a ferce place,
Hee turned too a temple atired too-rightes,
His grete God Amon grates too ȝelde;
Hee kneeles coflich adoune & kries hym till,
And saide, “Seemely God send mee too knowe,
Of onorable Olympias þat I on think,
What shall hur happe to haue þat hende is of deede?”
His God gaue an ansuer & too þe gome saide,
“Hur chaunce is too haue a childe þat cheefe shall in erth
Of any ludes þat liue in Lordship wex.
Þe bern shall not bee ðine bolde þo þou seeme,
But geten of a-nooþer gome in þat gaye burde.”
Þen was þe King carefull & kest for wrath
For too bring þat beurde in baile for euer.
Menne tolde this tydyng too þe true Queene,
Þerfore hur lyked þat lud his lore too knowe.—
“Now,” saide Nectanabus anon too þe Lady,
“Þe sawe þat þou haste saide uncertain is founde;
But ðei þou ne hap noght yet too haue þat sorowe,
Þat fere shall bifall þee within few yeres.
Whan Philip in his foule will hathe þee for-lete,
Maugre his malice or his menne sterne,
Him tides to take þee aȝain trowe þou no nooder.”
“Maister,” quod þe Queene “queme yee me might,
Of this unkouth case too karp þe soothe.
When Philip þe ferefull forsake mee thynkes,
Who durst bee so bolde þat bides in erth,
Too make hym, maugre his menne mee for too take?”
Þus saide þe seg “Such one I knowe;
A God þat is gracious & grete of his myght
Shall busk too thy borde bed by þee too ligge,
And fro this harmfull happe help þee faire.”
Þe Ladie full louely of þe lud askes,
“Which dereworthe dright desires mee too haue?”
Þis King carpes anon & cofly saide,
“Hee is noght yonge of his yeres þat yernes þee take,
Noþer olde of his age but onely too showe,
In a meane maner mightfull hee seemes.
Hee hath hye on his hed hornes of syluer,
With golde gailye begonne glisiing bright,
With here on his hedde & his berd also.
Hee wyll nye [þee] too-night & neede þee bihooues
Bee full prest too his paie & profer þee faire.”
“ȝif I may trowe thy tale trulich,” hue saide,
“I shall hilich [þee] herie with hert and wyll,
Noght praise þee as a Prophet þat passeth in londe,
But as a gracious Godde greate I þee thynk,
And bileeue on thy lore all my lifetime.”
“Þe sawe þat þou haste saide uncertain is founde;
But ðei þou ne hap noght yet too haue þat sorowe,
Þat fere shall bifall þee within few yeres.
Whan Philip in his foule will hathe þee for-lete,
Maugre his malice or his menne sterne,
Him tides to take þee aȝain trowe þou no nooder.”
“Maister,” quod þe Queene “queme yee me might,
Of this unkouth case too karp þe soothe.
When Philip þe ferefull forsake mee thynkes,
Who durst bee so bolde þat bides in erth,
Too make hym, maugre his menne mee for too take?”
Þus saide þe seg “Such one I knowe;
A God þat is gracious & grete of his myght
199
And fro this harmfull happe help þee faire.”
Þe Ladie full louely of þe lud askes,
“Which dereworthe dright desires mee too haue?”
Þis King carpes anon & cofly saide,
“Hee is noght yonge of his yeres þat yernes þee take,
Noþer olde of his age but onely too showe,
In a meane maner mightfull hee seemes.
Hee hath hye on his hed hornes of syluer,
With golde gailye begonne glisiing bright,
With here on his hedde & his berd also.
Hee wyll nye [þee] too-night & neede þee bihooues
Bee full prest too his paie & profer þee faire.”
“ȝif I may trowe thy tale trulich,” hue saide,
“I shall hilich [þee] herie with hert and wyll,
Noght praise þee as a Prophet þat passeth in londe,
But as a gracious Godde greate I þee thynk,
And bileeue on thy lore all my lifetime.”
Þan nolde Nectanabus no lenger abide,
But gothe too a greene grounde þere grases wer sett;
Farre fro þe Paleis hee fares all alone,
And laches in a launde full louely wortes.
Hee grindes hem grathly & gripes in honde,
Hee wringes oute þe wet wus and went on his gate.
Hee passed intoo þe Paleis in a preeuy wyse.
When it dreew to þe derk & þe daie slaked,
Þe burd busked too bedde & brought was on slepe,
Þis King with his conning kithes his werkes,
With wiles of witchcraft & wicked deedes,
Þat by fauour of þe fende & his foule craftes
Hee grathes hym as a God & gothe too þe burde;
As hue slumbred on slepe slilich hee wendes,
And lyeth by þat Ladie þat louely was holde.
Whan hee his will had wraught hee wendes in haste,
And straihte oute of þe stede with a stiff wyll.
Þan þe burde in her bed braide of hur slepe,
And whan shee wakyng was shee wondred in hert.
Hue mett on þe midnight of mirth full riue,
Þat grete God Amon gan þiþer wend,
And had seemelich isett siluern hornes,
And bright blased his blee as a brend glede.
Þen was Amon ywis of worship a-losed,
And igrett for a God gretest in lond.
Hee was ishape as a sheepe shinand bright,
I-painted full prisely & precious stones
Wer sticked on þat stock stoute too beholde.
All þe ludes of þe lond Lordes & eles
Set hym for soueraine þeir sokour too beene,
And saide þere sacrifice in selkouth times.
Þanne or-trowed Olympias þe onorable Queene,
Þat hee neihed þat night nye too her syde,
And fonded hur fleshlych or hee fare wolde.
Whan hee in his lykyng þat Ladie lauht had,
Hur seemed in þat same stede þat hee saide after,
“Worldly wooman well may þee lyke,
For thy keeper of care is conceiued now.”
But gothe too a greene grounde þere grases wer sett;
Farre fro þe Paleis hee fares all alone,
And laches in a launde full louely wortes.
Hee grindes hem grathly & gripes in honde,
Hee wringes oute þe wet wus and went on his gate.
Hee passed intoo þe Paleis in a preeuy wyse.
When it dreew to þe derk & þe daie slaked,
Þe burd busked too bedde & brought was on slepe,
Þis King with his conning kithes his werkes,
With wiles of witchcraft & wicked deedes,
Þat by fauour of þe fende & his foule craftes
Hee grathes hym as a God & gothe too þe burde;
As hue slumbred on slepe slilich hee wendes,
And lyeth by þat Ladie þat louely was holde.
Whan hee his will had wraught hee wendes in haste,
And straihte oute of þe stede with a stiff wyll.
200
And whan shee wakyng was shee wondred in hert.
Hue mett on þe midnight of mirth full riue,
Þat grete God Amon gan þiþer wend,
And had seemelich isett siluern hornes,
And bright blased his blee as a brend glede.
Þen was Amon ywis of worship a-losed,
And igrett for a God gretest in lond.
Hee was ishape as a sheepe shinand bright,
I-painted full prisely & precious stones
Wer sticked on þat stock stoute too beholde.
All þe ludes of þe lond Lordes & eles
Set hym for soueraine þeir sokour too beene,
And saide þere sacrifice in selkouth times.
Þanne or-trowed Olympias þe onorable Queene,
Þat hee neihed þat night nye too her syde,
And fonded hur fleshlych or hee fare wolde.
Whan hee in his lykyng þat Ladie lauht had,
Hur seemed in þat same stede þat hee saide after,
“Worldly wooman well may þee lyke,
For thy keeper of care is conceiued now.”
A morowe on þe mirie daie þis menskfnll Queene
Arises up redely and a rink sendes
Anon too Nectanabus & needely hym praies,
Þat he cofly comme too carpen her tyll.
Þan laft þis lud noght long ther-after,
But camme too þat louely too kenne of her lore.
Þe Queene tolde hym till þe tales too þe ende,
Of her dereworth dreme þat draihte hur in slepe,
And hue saide too þat seg “Soothe oþer eles
ȝif it were, I ne wott for wislich I slept,
Whan I þat sweuen so sweete swiftly mette.”
“Nay,” saide Nectanabus “ne trowe þou no nooþer,
Þis ilk sawe was soothe & certain iprooued.
For ȝif þou lene mee leue too leng biside,
for too stand in a stede of a straite place,
Too waite at a windowe & warn þee after,
I shoolde trie þe truthe & tell þee soone,
Wheþer i faithfull or falss founde thy sawe.
For I warne þee well with worship & ioye,
Hee wyll þee nye too-nyght in a neew fourme.
In dreme as a dragoun dreche hee þee thenkes,
And sithen showe hym hee shall a shawe as it were,
Mich liche too mee by mark of my face.”
“Sir,” saide þat seemelich “þi sawes bee mirye,
Þou shalt stond in a stede still biside;
ȝif it bee certain & soothe þiself shall i chese,
Too faþer þe free that I forth bryng.”
Þe burd bad hastely by hur boure side,
Þat swich a place were prest too prooue þe truthe.
Arises up redely and a rink sendes
Anon too Nectanabus & needely hym praies,
Þat he cofly comme too carpen her tyll.
Þan laft þis lud noght long ther-after,
But camme too þat louely too kenne of her lore.
Þe Queene tolde hym till þe tales too þe ende,
Of her dereworth dreme þat draihte hur in slepe,
And hue saide too þat seg “Soothe oþer eles
ȝif it were, I ne wott for wislich I slept,
Whan I þat sweuen so sweete swiftly mette.”
“Nay,” saide Nectanabus “ne trowe þou no nooþer,
Þis ilk sawe was soothe & certain iprooued.
201
for too stand in a stede of a straite place,
Too waite at a windowe & warn þee after,
I shoolde trie þe truthe & tell þee soone,
Wheþer i faithfull or falss founde thy sawe.
For I warne þee well with worship & ioye,
Hee wyll þee nye too-nyght in a neew fourme.
In dreme as a dragoun dreche hee þee thenkes,
And sithen showe hym hee shall a shawe as it were,
Mich liche too mee by mark of my face.”
“Sir,” saide þat seemelich “þi sawes bee mirye,
Þou shalt stond in a stede still biside;
ȝif it bee certain & soothe þiself shall i chese,
Too faþer þe free that I forth bryng.”
Þe burd bad hastely by hur boure side,
Þat swich a place were prest too prooue þe truthe.
Whan þe leme & þe light of þe leefe sonne
Was idrawne adowne & dym were cloudes,
Þe Ladie lay on hur bed & lysted too slepe,
And this wonderfull weie waites his place;
Hee stoode still on þe stede & stirred no foote.
And sleyly, when þe first slepe slaked on wightes,
Hee chases by enchauntement þe chamber within,
And with a dragones drem dreew too þe bedde.
Þan hee meeues too hur mouthe & makes his lidene,
And kisses þat cumly & kithes his wyll;
And sithen hee seemed a seg hymself as it were,
And spake too her speedily these speciall wordes;
“On þee is getten a gome þe grimmest in erth,
Þat all weies in þe worlde worship shall.”
Þus quaintely þis Queene was quemed with gyle,
And wend gamene with a God gracious of might,
Whan a libbing lud lay in hur armes.
Þis rink, or þe sonne rist romes a morowe,
And passes in þe Paleis prestlich hym one.
And far forthe on þe daye whan þe faire burde
Had long þere layne & had lyst too ryse,
Dereworth damseles drowen them þiþer;
Too serue þat seemely þei setten hur hondes.
Whan hue was redie araid & riall on sight,
Hue sendes soone for þe segge & saide þese wordes,
“Menskfull maister makeles of witt,
Tell mee now truly & targe no lenger,
What kid King Philip þat keene is of hert,
Deemes with mee too doo mee dreedes it sore?”
Þe lud too this Lady full louely saide,
“Of Philip haue þou no fere for faitly too knowe,
Amon þe grete God by graunte of my boone,
Schall þee wisse fro wo & wreche of his teene.”
Was idrawne adowne & dym were cloudes,
Þe Ladie lay on hur bed & lysted too slepe,
And this wonderfull weie waites his place;
Hee stoode still on þe stede & stirred no foote.
And sleyly, when þe first slepe slaked on wightes,
Hee chases by enchauntement þe chamber within,
And with a dragones drem dreew too þe bedde.
Þan hee meeues too hur mouthe & makes his lidene,
And kisses þat cumly & kithes his wyll;
And sithen hee seemed a seg hymself as it were,
And spake too her speedily these speciall wordes;
“On þee is getten a gome þe grimmest in erth,
Þat all weies in þe worlde worship shall.”
Þus quaintely þis Queene was quemed with gyle,
202
Whan a libbing lud lay in hur armes.
Þis rink, or þe sonne rist romes a morowe,
And passes in þe Paleis prestlich hym one.
And far forthe on þe daye whan þe faire burde
Had long þere layne & had lyst too ryse,
Dereworth damseles drowen them þiþer;
Too serue þat seemely þei setten hur hondes.
Whan hue was redie araid & riall on sight,
Hue sendes soone for þe segge & saide þese wordes,
“Menskfull maister makeles of witt,
Tell mee now truly & targe no lenger,
What kid King Philip þat keene is of hert,
Deemes with mee too doo mee dreedes it sore?”
Þe lud too this Lady full louely saide,
“Of Philip haue þou no fere for faitly too knowe,
Amon þe grete God by graunte of my boone,
Schall þee wisse fro wo & wreche of his teene.”
Þan farde Nectanabus forthe fro þat place,
Hee wendes too a wildernes & waites him erbes,
Hee tempres hem tidly & takes hem after,
And hee draines in a dish till þei dry were.
Þan fetches hee a seafoule faire of his wynges,
And sawes of sorsery hee saide therouer;
Of his grounden gras þe wus can hee take,
Þeron hee brynges þe brid & bathes his pilus.
By help of þe Hellfeende hee hauntes his werkes,
To gille Philip in Greece whan þe gome slept.
Whan it nied þe night nedelich & soone,
Philip fared too bed & fell on a slepe.
Þe chaunce of enchauntment chased his mynde,
Þat hee was draiht with dreme thorou deuiles engines.
Þan met þat man on his mirie slepe,
Þat hee sawe on his sight his seemely make,
How þat louelich lif laide was a bedde,
And a gracious God gripte hur in armes.
Hee lay by þat Lady his liking hee wrought;
And whan his deede so deerne doone was in haste,
Amiddes hur membre too maken it close,
Hee sawe hym sowen a seme by seeming of sweuen,
And with a gaie golde ring hee gan it asele;
A ston stiked þerein stoutlich igraue;
Þe cast of þe sonne course was corue þerin;
A litle liones hed louelich ishape,
With a swith faire swerd sweetelich imaked,
Was isett on þe sell þe seme all amiddes.
Whan Philip on þe forthe daie first gan arise,
Hee cliped hym his clerkes full conning of witt,
Full noble Nigremanciens þan [nyed] hee in haste
Þat kouth such sweuens swiftly arede.
Hee minges his metyng amonges hem all,
And what it might bee too meane þe menne gan hee ask.
His enchauntiour cheefe þat þe chaunce herde,
Too þe cumly Kyng kid these wordes,
And saide, “Sir, forsoothe thy seemely make
By a gracious God shall go with childe.
Þe prent þat was i-putt on hur priuie membre
With þe gaie golde ring graue too-rightes,
Þe leue liones hed þat laide was amid,
As mich amounteth too meane as I may tell,
When hur barn is ibore bolde shall hee wex,
And bee kid for a King kene of his deedes.
As þe lioun is Lorde of liuing beastes,
So þe ludes in þe lond alouten him shall.
Þe sonne course of þe sell sinifieth also,
Þat hee shall fare as farre as any freke dwelles,
And right too þe sonne rist his raigne shall last.
Þe swerd sweetlich imade in sweuen too rede,
Bitokneth full treewly in times here-after,
Þat hee shall grow full grim & graithlich winne,
With stern strokes of swerd & striuing of dintes,
Bothe boldes & borou[es] & bern[es] to his will,
And seemely cities as soueraine in erth.”
Philip saide, “Forsooþe mee seemed þat tyme,
That I sawe þe God go graith too hur bedde.
Whan hee his will had wrought ‘Woman,’ he saide,
‘Thy keeper is conceiued thy comefort too bene,
Þat þee & Philip þe free of fone shall auenge.’”
“Sir,” said þe enchauntiour “soothely too mene,
Whan þe God gan speake too þe gaie beurde,
How hue conceiued had þe help of hur teene,
Faire Philip & hur freely too keepe,
Þat is wisly too witte hee will you defend
Fro paines & peril þat perce þee ne shall.
Of this mirie meting well may þou lyke,
Of swiche happes so hende herde I nere tell.”
Hee wendes too a wildernes & waites him erbes,
Hee tempres hem tidly & takes hem after,
And hee draines in a dish till þei dry were.
Þan fetches hee a seafoule faire of his wynges,
And sawes of sorsery hee saide therouer;
Of his grounden gras þe wus can hee take,
Þeron hee brynges þe brid & bathes his pilus.
By help of þe Hellfeende hee hauntes his werkes,
To gille Philip in Greece whan þe gome slept.
Whan it nied þe night nedelich & soone,
Philip fared too bed & fell on a slepe.
Þe chaunce of enchauntment chased his mynde,
Þat hee was draiht with dreme thorou deuiles engines.
Þan met þat man on his mirie slepe,
203
How þat louelich lif laide was a bedde,
And a gracious God gripte hur in armes.
Hee lay by þat Lady his liking hee wrought;
And whan his deede so deerne doone was in haste,
Amiddes hur membre too maken it close,
Hee sawe hym sowen a seme by seeming of sweuen,
And with a gaie golde ring hee gan it asele;
A ston stiked þerein stoutlich igraue;
Þe cast of þe sonne course was corue þerin;
A litle liones hed louelich ishape,
With a swith faire swerd sweetelich imaked,
Was isett on þe sell þe seme all amiddes.
Whan Philip on þe forthe daie first gan arise,
Hee cliped hym his clerkes full conning of witt,
Full noble Nigremanciens þan [nyed] hee in haste
Þat kouth such sweuens swiftly arede.
Hee minges his metyng amonges hem all,
And what it might bee too meane þe menne gan hee ask.
His enchauntiour cheefe þat þe chaunce herde,
Too þe cumly Kyng kid these wordes,
And saide, “Sir, forsoothe thy seemely make
By a gracious God shall go with childe.
Þe prent þat was i-putt on hur priuie membre
With þe gaie golde ring graue too-rightes,
Þe leue liones hed þat laide was amid,
As mich amounteth too meane as I may tell,
When hur barn is ibore bolde shall hee wex,
And bee kid for a King kene of his deedes.
As þe lioun is Lorde of liuing beastes,
So þe ludes in þe lond alouten him shall.
Þe sonne course of þe sell sinifieth also,
Þat hee shall fare as farre as any freke dwelles,
204
Þe swerd sweetlich imade in sweuen too rede,
Bitokneth full treewly in times here-after,
Þat hee shall grow full grim & graithlich winne,
With stern strokes of swerd & striuing of dintes,
Bothe boldes & borou[es] & bern[es] to his will,
And seemely cities as soueraine in erth.”
Philip saide, “Forsooþe mee seemed þat tyme,
That I sawe þe God go graith too hur bedde.
Whan hee his will had wrought ‘Woman,’ he saide,
‘Thy keeper is conceiued thy comefort too bene,
Þat þee & Philip þe free of fone shall auenge.’”
“Sir,” said þe enchauntiour “soothely too mene,
Whan þe God gan speake too þe gaie beurde,
How hue conceiued had þe help of hur teene,
Faire Philip & hur freely too keepe,
Þat is wisly too witte hee will you defend
Fro paines & peril þat perce þee ne shall.
Of this mirie meting well may þou lyke,
Of swiche happes so hende herde I nere tell.”
In þe same sesoun soothely too showe,
Philip farde too fight as I tofore saide.
Þat time, þe Tebeniens hee turned too fight
Aȝain þe ferefull folke of Phocus þe riche,
With ludes of Lacedemoine lasches too deale.
Aȝain Philip too fare feele þer come.
Nectanabus anon right with his nice werkes,
Too begile þe gome graithes hym soone,
Deraide as a dragoun dreedfull in fight.
Hee wendes too þe werre with Philip too holde;
In sight, of þe same shape hee seemed þan,
As whan hee farde tofore too þe faire Queene.
Þan hee farde in þat fight as hee folke sleew,
And brutned in that battle buernes ynow.
For dreede of þis dragoun menne dreew þem þence,
And fell doune in þe feelde fenked in haste.
Þe dreede of þis dragoun þat drof men aboute,
So fought for Philip & feld mo Knightes
Þan all þe men of Macedonie & more of his peeple.
Whan this Kyng had kill[e]d with carefull strokes
Þe Lacedemoniens þat life loren hadde,
And Phocus with ferse dynt freelich ywonne
Thorou drede of þe dragoun & drift of his Knightes,
Þe fell folke of Attens fledden hym soone,
And thought to sauen hemself fro sorowe of his wrethe.
Philip farde too fight as I tofore saide.
Þat time, þe Tebeniens hee turned too fight
Aȝain þe ferefull folke of Phocus þe riche,
With ludes of Lacedemoine lasches too deale.
Aȝain Philip too fare feele þer come.
Nectanabus anon right with his nice werkes,
Too begile þe gome graithes hym soone,
Deraide as a dragoun dreedfull in fight.
Hee wendes too þe werre with Philip too holde;
In sight, of þe same shape hee seemed þan,
205
Þan hee farde in þat fight as hee folke sleew,
And brutned in that battle buernes ynow.
For dreede of þis dragoun menne dreew þem þence,
And fell doune in þe feelde fenked in haste.
Þe dreede of þis dragoun þat drof men aboute,
So fought for Philip & feld mo Knightes
Þan all þe men of Macedonie & more of his peeple.
Whan this Kyng had kill[e]d with carefull strokes
Þe Lacedemoniens þat life loren hadde,
And Phocus with ferse dynt freelich ywonne
Thorou drede of þe dragoun & drift of his Knightes,
Þe fell folke of Attens fledden hym soone,
And thought to sauen hemself fro sorowe of his wrethe.
Philip after þis fight in a foule time,
Was going too [ride] ouer Greece as a grete Prince.
Þe armed Attenieins auntred hym till,
Þei wern ware of his comme & his waie stoppes.
Þe King kiþes his grim too keueren him gate,
But all his werk was in waste þei werned his thoughtes.
For hee ne sholde hem shend & shamelich take
Hur seemely cities too sorowen hem all,
Enforced were þe entres with egre men fele,
Þat hee ne might in þat marche no maner wend.
Whan þe seg sawe well no sokour ne speede,
He was gretely agrise & greeued in hert,
For hee ne might in þo men his malice kith,
To Tebes & Tessalonie þat truly hym holpe,
Hee went as a woode man his wrath too auenge.
Whan hee comme too þat coste þei kepten hym faire,
And gon too hur gates & grathlich hem openes,
And lete þe rink riden in with his route sterne;
And weies hym welcomes with worship & ioye.
Þei trowed no tresoun untruly too haue;
But Philip þe ferefull faire thei grette,
And lete hym prik with his prese in hur pris holdes.
As soone as þe seg was þe citie within,
Hee, wrathfull [of] wille wronglich þare,
Hee lete catch þe King & kyllen hym soone,
And his Princes of price prestlich hee quelde.
Douhtie Dukes with doole too deth gon hee bryng,
And ooþer Lordes of lond liueles hee made.
Hee brende holdes & borous & beurnes therin,
And all went too wo þat they with mett.
As mich as Philip tofore hem frendship wrought,
Whan hee fought for þem & Phocus distriede,
As mich maugre & more hee marked hem after,
Too be-traie them untruly þat trusten hym till.
On weies & women awrak hee his teene,
And solde them too seruise in sorowe too liue,
And robbed of riches all þe riche tounes.
Þus hee wrought þat wrong with wreche of his anger,
For teene of þe Attenieins þat turned him too kepe.
Whan hee þis cursed case unkyndely wrought,
Hee ne laft no leng[er] in that lond þan.
For too fonde more fight his folke gan hee leade,
And fares too a countrie with Knightes ynow,
Þere a citie was sett seemely & noble,
Þat Cappadoce was cleped a full kid place.
Many doughtie of deede dwelt þerin,
Þat wern fresh too fight & fell of hur deedes.
Philip bedes hem biker & biddes þem yeelde
Þeir faire citie in faith or fight þei shall.
Þe seges in þe citie þemself so kept,
Þat Philip lafte þere long & litle hee spedde.
But hee ne stint of his strife noght a stounde while,
Till hee had take þe toune þat tristy was holde,
And made all þe menne meeke too his wyll.
Whan hee had wonne þis won & wrought more teene,
With mirth too Macedoine hee makes his chace.
Hee priked too his Paleis with Princes & Dukes,
And many a seemely seg þat sued hym þanne.
Of hym þe Queene was ware & wendes with ioye,
And romed right too þe rink receiued him faire.
Philip kisses his fere as fell for too doone,
And kneew by hur countenaunce hue conceiued had.
“Dame,” saide þat douhtie “how haste þou doone now?
Who hath þee unclene i-kept sithen I comme fro þee?
Þou haste medled amis methynk, by thy chere.
Natheless I not ȝit nai, as I trowe,
ðof þou haue cheuesed þee a chylde as þi chaunce falles;
For it is geten of a God thy ilt is þe lasse.
Of all þe happe þat þou haste hollich ifounde,
I had minde on my slepe by meting of sweuen,
Aȝaines mee & all men þat may thee biholde,
Blameles þou might bee of thy berem-chaunce.
No wight of thy werk wite þee might,
Sithen it is sonde of a God soothelich i-prooued.”
Was going too [ride] ouer Greece as a grete Prince.
Þe armed Attenieins auntred hym till,
Þei wern ware of his comme & his waie stoppes.
Þe King kiþes his grim too keueren him gate,
But all his werk was in waste þei werned his thoughtes.
For hee ne sholde hem shend & shamelich take
Hur seemely cities too sorowen hem all,
Enforced were þe entres with egre men fele,
Þat hee ne might in þat marche no maner wend.
Whan þe seg sawe well no sokour ne speede,
He was gretely agrise & greeued in hert,
For hee ne might in þo men his malice kith,
To Tebes & Tessalonie þat truly hym holpe,
206
Whan hee comme too þat coste þei kepten hym faire,
And gon too hur gates & grathlich hem openes,
And lete þe rink riden in with his route sterne;
And weies hym welcomes with worship & ioye.
Þei trowed no tresoun untruly too haue;
But Philip þe ferefull faire thei grette,
And lete hym prik with his prese in hur pris holdes.
As soone as þe seg was þe citie within,
Hee, wrathfull [of] wille wronglich þare,
Hee lete catch þe King & kyllen hym soone,
And his Princes of price prestlich hee quelde.
Douhtie Dukes with doole too deth gon hee bryng,
And ooþer Lordes of lond liueles hee made.
Hee brende holdes & borous & beurnes therin,
And all went too wo þat they with mett.
As mich as Philip tofore hem frendship wrought,
Whan hee fought for þem & Phocus distriede,
As mich maugre & more hee marked hem after,
Too be-traie them untruly þat trusten hym till.
On weies & women awrak hee his teene,
And solde them too seruise in sorowe too liue,
And robbed of riches all þe riche tounes.
Þus hee wrought þat wrong with wreche of his anger,
For teene of þe Attenieins þat turned him too kepe.
Whan hee þis cursed case unkyndely wrought,
Hee ne laft no leng[er] in that lond þan.
For too fonde more fight his folke gan hee leade,
And fares too a countrie with Knightes ynow,
Þere a citie was sett seemely & noble,
Þat Cappadoce was cleped a full kid place.
Many doughtie of deede dwelt þerin,
Þat wern fresh too fight & fell of hur deedes.
Philip bedes hem biker & biddes þem yeelde
207
Þe seges in þe citie þemself so kept,
Þat Philip lafte þere long & litle hee spedde.
But hee ne stint of his strife noght a stounde while,
Till hee had take þe toune þat tristy was holde,
And made all þe menne meeke too his wyll.
Whan hee had wonne þis won & wrought more teene,
With mirth too Macedoine hee makes his chace.
Hee priked too his Paleis with Princes & Dukes,
And many a seemely seg þat sued hym þanne.
Of hym þe Queene was ware & wendes with ioye,
And romed right too þe rink receiued him faire.
Philip kisses his fere as fell for too doone,
And kneew by hur countenaunce hue conceiued had.
“Dame,” saide þat douhtie “how haste þou doone now?
Who hath þee unclene i-kept sithen I comme fro þee?
Þou haste medled amis methynk, by thy chere.
Natheless I not ȝit nai, as I trowe,
ðof þou haue cheuesed þee a chylde as þi chaunce falles;
For it is geten of a God thy ilt is þe lasse.
Of all þe happe þat þou haste hollich ifounde,
I had minde on my slepe by meting of sweuen,
Aȝaines mee & all men þat may thee biholde,
Blameles þou might bee of thy berem-chaunce.
No wight of thy werk wite þee might,
Sithen it is sonde of a God soothelich i-prooued.”
It betid in a time tidly therafter,
Þat Philip made of folke a feaste full ryche.
All his Princes of price praied hee thider,
And ooþe Lordes of lond ne laft hee none.
Whan hee is fare fro fight his folke for too feaste,
In Macedoine with his men this mirth hee made.
As soone as þei were sett & serued too-rightes,
Nectanabus by Nigremauncie neew hym attires,
And in a dragounes drem hee dreew to þe halle.
Hee comme first too þe King & too þe kid Queene,
And sithen hee buskes aboute þe bordes echone,
Hee drouned as a dragon dredefull of noyes,
Þat all þe gomes were agrise of his grim sight.
Þan farde hee forthe too þe faire Queene,
And hee holdes his hed right in hur lappe,
And kisses þat cumly in knoweing of all.
Philip saide too his fere freely þese wordes,
“Dame, of this dragoun I doo þee too knowe,
And euery liuand lud þat lenges herin,
In a brem battail abrode in þe feelde,
Whan I was greefly bigo with a grim peeple,
Hee comme flie too feelde & my fone schende,
Þat I was holpe by hym hem too distrie.”
Whan þis tale was tolde & tended of all,
Þe dragoun dreew him awaie with drift of his winges.
Þat Philip made of folke a feaste full ryche.
All his Princes of price praied hee thider,
And ooþe Lordes of lond ne laft hee none.
Whan hee is fare fro fight his folke for too feaste,
In Macedoine with his men this mirth hee made.
As soone as þei were sett & serued too-rightes,
208
And in a dragounes drem hee dreew to þe halle.
Hee comme first too þe King & too þe kid Queene,
And sithen hee buskes aboute þe bordes echone,
Hee drouned as a dragon dredefull of noyes,
Þat all þe gomes were agrise of his grim sight.
Þan farde hee forthe too þe faire Queene,
And hee holdes his hed right in hur lappe,
And kisses þat cumly in knoweing of all.
Philip saide too his fere freely þese wordes,
“Dame, of this dragoun I doo þee too knowe,
And euery liuand lud þat lenges herin,
In a brem battail abrode in þe feelde,
Whan I was greefly bigo with a grim peeple,
Hee comme flie too feelde & my fone schende,
Þat I was holpe by hym hem too distrie.”
Whan þis tale was tolde & tended of all,
Þe dragoun dreew him awaie with drift of his winges.
In a somer seasoun soone therafter,
As Philip satt by hymself soothe for too tell,
A faire breeding brid bremlich went,
And in þe lappe of þat lud louely hee sittes.
Or þis freelich foule farde of þe place,
Hee bredde an ai on his barm & braides him þan.
Philip wondred was of this werk quainte,
And satte still on þe stede stirred no foote.
Þe ai fell on þe flore in the frekes sight,
And þe shell to-shett on þe schire grounde.
Whan it cofli too-clef þer crep oute an addre,
And buskes full boldely aboute þe shell.
Whan this worme had went wislich aboute,
Hee wolde haue gliden in againe graithlich & soone.
But or hee had in his hed hee hastely deide,
And dreew nere too his denne but deide bi-side.
Philip for þis ferlich fast gan wende
To noble Nigremauncieins þat hym nyh were,
And asked hem an answer þis aunter too reede,
For cheef of enchauntment chosen þei were.
“Sir,” saide one enchauntiour “your seemely make
Shall bere such a barn in a brem tyde,
Þat by might of his maine & maistrie of Kinges,
All so wide as þis worlde shall welden his raigne.
Whan hee aboute hath ibene abrode in þe londes,
And iwonne at his will þe wortlych places,
Þe kith þat hee comme fro or hee com till,
Hee shall bee doluen & ded as destenie falles.
As þe addre of þe ai auntred aboute,
And wolde haue shoten in þe schell or hee schent were,
So shall fare by þe freke þat ferre may bee knowe.
Whan hee hath reigned a roum as richest of all,
Or hee may too his marche with his maine wende,
Þere hee was fostred & fed him falles too dye.”
As Philip satt by hymself soothe for too tell,
A faire breeding brid bremlich went,
And in þe lappe of þat lud louely hee sittes.
Or þis freelich foule farde of þe place,
Hee bredde an ai on his barm & braides him þan.
Philip wondred was of this werk quainte,
And satte still on þe stede stirred no foote.
Þe ai fell on þe flore in the frekes sight,
And þe shell to-shett on þe schire grounde.
Whan it cofli too-clef þer crep oute an addre,
And buskes full boldely aboute þe shell.
Whan this worme had went wislich aboute,
Hee wolde haue gliden in againe graithlich & soone.
209
And dreew nere too his denne but deide bi-side.
Philip for þis ferlich fast gan wende
To noble Nigremauncieins þat hym nyh were,
And asked hem an answer þis aunter too reede,
For cheef of enchauntment chosen þei were.
“Sir,” saide one enchauntiour “your seemely make
Shall bere such a barn in a brem tyde,
Þat by might of his maine & maistrie of Kinges,
All so wide as þis worlde shall welden his raigne.
Whan hee aboute hath ibene abrode in þe londes,
And iwonne at his will þe wortlych places,
Þe kith þat hee comme fro or hee com till,
Hee shall bee doluen & ded as destenie falles.
As þe addre of þe ai auntred aboute,
And wolde haue shoten in þe schell or hee schent were,
So shall fare by þe freke þat ferre may bee knowe.
Whan hee hath reigned a roum as richest of all,
Or hee may too his marche with his maine wende,
Þere hee was fostred & fed him falles too dye.”
Now will I cease þis sawe & segge you more
Of hym þat hight Alisaunder holly þe birth. [OMITTED]
“Master on molde what may mee befall?
Of Philip sore am I aferd for his fell speeche,
For hee sayed too my soonne in syght of myne yie,
Hee was purlich payed of his prise werkes,
But hee chaunged his chere & too þe chylde sayed,
‘That þow ne art lyke mee, lude mee lykes full yll;’
Therfore my mynde & my moode is marred too care,
For his woorde am I wrought wofull in hert.”
“Queene,” quoth Nectanabus [care þou no more,]
For the sake of thy soonne [þat schal saue þe at nede.”]
Of hym þat hight Alisaunder holly þe birth. [OMITTED]
211
Of Philip sore am I aferd for his fell speeche,
For hee sayed too my soonne in syght of myne yie,
Hee was purlich payed of his prise werkes,
But hee chaunged his chere & too þe chylde sayed,
‘That þow ne art lyke mee, lude mee lykes full yll;’
Therfore my mynde & my moode is marred too care,
For his woorde am I wrought wofull in hert.”
“Queene,” quoth Nectanabus [care þou no more,]
For the sake of thy soonne [þat schal saue þe at nede.”]
The Lude looked on-loft late on an eeue,
And on a starre too stare hee stynt full long,
Hee hoped to haue there of his hertes desyres;
Too catche sum cunnyng hee kest up his yie.
When Alisaunder þat sawe hee sayed full soone,
“Father, wherfore is þat farly too tell,
That thow lookest on-loft so long at þis tyme?”
“Soonne,” sayed þe segge “in syght I beholde
A brem sterre & a bryght that mee best lykes.”
“Leeue fader,” quoth þe freke “fonde I, mee tell,
The sterre þat yee staren on sticketh it in heuin?”
“Yea, forsoothe, deare soonne” sayed hee than,
“It is in heuin full hy beholde who-so myght.”
“And may yee, syr,” sayed þe chylde “by sum maner wise,
Schowe mee schortly in shape þat schynyng sterre?”
“Yea, wooste þou see, my soonne in certeyn tymes,
The inkest howre of þis nyght ny by my syde,
Withoute þe citie,” he sayed “in certeyn places,
So, lo! myghtst þou see þat seemely sterre!”
“That ilk for to see” hee sayed, “I desyre,
And I shall wend thee with when þee well lykes.
But canst þou by any craft kenne mee now
What death dry þou shalt by destinie shape?”
“Yea,” soonne, sayed hee þo “in certein I knowe,
That I shall drye þe death in dreedefull dedes stoundes,
By encheson of my chylde such chaunce shall fall;
But whan, wott I not well ne in what place.”
And on a starre too stare hee stynt full long,
Hee hoped to haue there of his hertes desyres;
Too catche sum cunnyng hee kest up his yie.
When Alisaunder þat sawe hee sayed full soone,
“Father, wherfore is þat farly too tell,
212
“Soonne,” sayed þe segge “in syght I beholde
A brem sterre & a bryght that mee best lykes.”
“Leeue fader,” quoth þe freke “fonde I, mee tell,
The sterre þat yee staren on sticketh it in heuin?”
“Yea, forsoothe, deare soonne” sayed hee than,
“It is in heuin full hy beholde who-so myght.”
“And may yee, syr,” sayed þe chylde “by sum maner wise,
Schowe mee schortly in shape þat schynyng sterre?”
“Yea, wooste þou see, my soonne in certeyn tymes,
The inkest howre of þis nyght ny by my syde,
Withoute þe citie,” he sayed “in certeyn places,
So, lo! myghtst þou see þat seemely sterre!”
“That ilk for to see” hee sayed, “I desyre,
And I shall wend thee with when þee well lykes.
But canst þou by any craft kenne mee now
What death dry þou shalt by destinie shape?”
“Yea,” soonne, sayed hee þo “in certein I knowe,
That I shall drye þe death in dreedefull dedes stoundes,
By encheson of my chylde such chaunce shall fall;
But whan, wott I not well ne in what place.”
Nectanabus in þat nyght as hym neede thoght,
Passeth forthe priuely þe Paleis without,
Hee gooth downe by þe dyche þat deepe was of grounde,
Euyll it is of syght the walles besyde.
[“Sone,” sayde Nectanabus “see ȝond þe sterres,]
Joyfull Jupiter Myrthfull Mercurie,
The leame of his lyght lykes well my hert!”
So hee stynted þat stounde & styrred no foote,
Hee pored on þe planetes pass ere hee woolde.
Hee braides too þe bank of þe brode water,
By þe shoulderes hym tooke & shift hym in myddes,
With a wrathfull wyll þese woordes hee sayed:
“Wretched worldly wyght why wylst þou knowe
The priuitie of planetes or precious starres,
Syn þou art ertyly thyself? in an yll tyme
Kaughtst þou in þat craft cunnyng of happes
Let them þat in heuin bee knowe hy thynges;
That lore longes too Godde & too no lud eles,
Thow þat worldly art wraught thy wytt þou bisett
On euery erthly thyng & ern þou nomore!”
The segge sayed this sawe sounk or hee wer,
“Truthe haue I þee tolde in tymes ypassed”—
And with þat sawe þe soule fro þe seg hee partes.
Alisaunder anonne ryght armed in hert,
Hee did hym downe too þe dyche as hee no dreede had;
Hee sprainde in a sprite & spradde it aboute,
[And cauȝt vp þe cors and cayres to þe queene.]
“Saye mee, seemely sunne, what þou bryngst?”
“Ich haue broght,” quoth þe burn “a ded body here,
That noble Nectanabus too name was hote.”
“Sunne,” sayed þat seemelich “my sorowe is þe more!”
“It is thy foule fowlye þat this fare wrought,
Your carefull conscience yee casten so large,
That yee wern no wyght but wyrch as yee lyst.”
The Queene quoth nought againe but quickly & soone
Too burye þat burn þe beurd gan heate.
Of this lyueles lud ne lyst mee tell,
Of hym I cease my sawe & seche too more.
Passeth forthe priuely þe Paleis without,
Hee gooth downe by þe dyche þat deepe was of grounde,
Euyll it is of syght the walles besyde.
[“Sone,” sayde Nectanabus “see ȝond þe sterres,]
Joyfull Jupiter Myrthfull Mercurie,
The leame of his lyght lykes well my hert!”
So hee stynted þat stounde & styrred no foote,
Hee pored on þe planetes pass ere hee woolde.
213
By þe shoulderes hym tooke & shift hym in myddes,
With a wrathfull wyll þese woordes hee sayed:
“Wretched worldly wyght why wylst þou knowe
The priuitie of planetes or precious starres,
Syn þou art ertyly thyself? in an yll tyme
Kaughtst þou in þat craft cunnyng of happes
Let them þat in heuin bee knowe hy thynges;
That lore longes too Godde & too no lud eles,
Thow þat worldly art wraught thy wytt þou bisett
On euery erthly thyng & ern þou nomore!”
The segge sayed this sawe sounk or hee wer,
“Truthe haue I þee tolde in tymes ypassed”—
And with þat sawe þe soule fro þe seg hee partes.
Alisaunder anonne ryght armed in hert,
Hee did hym downe too þe dyche as hee no dreede had;
Hee sprainde in a sprite & spradde it aboute,
[And cauȝt vp þe cors and cayres to þe queene.]
“Saye mee, seemely sunne, what þou bryngst?”
“Ich haue broght,” quoth þe burn “a ded body here,
That noble Nectanabus too name was hote.”
“Sunne,” sayed þat seemelich “my sorowe is þe more!”
“It is thy foule fowlye þat this fare wrought,
Your carefull conscience yee casten so large,
That yee wern no wyght but wyrch as yee lyst.”
The Queene quoth nought againe but quickly & soone
Too burye þat burn þe beurd gan heate.
Of this lyueles lud ne lyst mee tell,
Of hym I cease my sawe & seche too more.
Ther was a Prince full price of powre y-holde,
Keeper of Cappadoce that Kyng Philip aught.
A huge horsse & a hy hee had that tyme,
The moste seemely in syght þat euer seg wyst.
Hee bore a hedde as a bole y-brested to-ryght,
And had hard on his hedde hornes y-grow,
Menne wern his meate that hee moste looued;
for as many as hee myght murdre hee woolde.
Hee was byglich ybownde on bothe twoo halues,
Bothe his chaul & his chynne with chaynes of yren;
Many lockes wer laft his legges aboute,
That hee nas loose in no lime ludes to greeue,
To byte, ne to braundise ne to break no wowes.
for hee so myghty was made in all maner thynges,
Of such a body as hee bore þe blonke so sterne,
Was neuer steede in no stede þat stynt upon erth.
Intoo meery Macedoine þe messengeres þei camme,
From what kith þei camme cofly they tolde,
Let greete hym with God & goode wyll,
And their presaunt of price proffred hym tyll.
Hee had blyss of þat beaste & blythely hym thankes.
[A caue he comanded to coynt men inouȝ,]
Dupe as a dunioun dyked in erth,
All about bygge with barres of yern.
Therfore þe Kyng had cast too keepe þat steede,
In þat caue craftely enclosed with gynne.
For if a trayter wer y-take in tyme therafter,
Or any thriftles theefe for thynges accused,
They shoolde bee cast in þat caue too þat kene blonk,
And bee deuoured with doole as þe doome woolde.
Anon as euer þe nyght nyied on erth,
Philip farde too bedde & fell on a sleepe.
Of a myghtfull Godde hee mett þat tyme,
That on his bedsyde satt & þis sawe tolde—
“Who prickes on a playne feelde þe perelous beaste,
Hee shall raigne as a ryng ryall & noble,
And bee Kyng of thy kith Knyghtes too leade,
When þou art doone & dedde & thy daye endes.”
Keeper of Cappadoce that Kyng Philip aught.
A huge horsse & a hy hee had that tyme,
The moste seemely in syght þat euer seg wyst.
214
And had hard on his hedde hornes y-grow,
Menne wern his meate that hee moste looued;
for as many as hee myght murdre hee woolde.
Hee was byglich ybownde on bothe twoo halues,
Bothe his chaul & his chynne with chaynes of yren;
Many lockes wer laft his legges aboute,
That hee nas loose in no lime ludes to greeue,
To byte, ne to braundise ne to break no wowes.
for hee so myghty was made in all maner thynges,
Of such a body as hee bore þe blonke so sterne,
Was neuer steede in no stede þat stynt upon erth.
Intoo meery Macedoine þe messengeres þei camme,
From what kith þei camme cofly they tolde,
Let greete hym with God & goode wyll,
And their presaunt of price proffred hym tyll.
Hee had blyss of þat beaste & blythely hym thankes.
[A caue he comanded to coynt men inouȝ,]
Dupe as a dunioun dyked in erth,
All about bygge with barres of yern.
Therfore þe Kyng had cast too keepe þat steede,
In þat caue craftely enclosed with gynne.
For if a trayter wer y-take in tyme therafter,
Or any thriftles theefe for thynges accused,
They shoolde bee cast in þat caue too þat kene blonk,
And bee deuoured with doole as þe doome woolde.
Anon as euer þe nyght nyied on erth,
Philip farde too bedde & fell on a sleepe.
Of a myghtfull Godde hee mett þat tyme,
That on his bedsyde satt & þis sawe tolde—
“Who prickes on a playne feelde þe perelous beaste,
Hee shall raigne as a ryng ryall & noble,
215
When þou art doone & dedde & thy daye endes.”
When Alisaunder was of age as I shall tell,
Of full fifteene yere faren too þe end,
Hee was hardye & hende happes to fond,
And such wys of his witt in worldly thynges;
Lered on letrure was þe lud then,
And of latin þe lore lellich hee wyst.
In a tyme betyd as I tell after,
That many menne of Attenes with myckle ooþer peeple,
Did þem forthe on a day by þe dupe caue,
There þe steede in stoode strayned in bondes.
They sawe lygge in theyr looke legges & armes,
Fayre handes & feete freaten too the bonne,
Of menne þat myslych wer murdred therin,
By iustes unioyfull iugged too death.
When Alisaunder was ware of þe wylde b[easte],
That was of body so bolde bremlych yshaped,
Too hym hee heelde forthe his hand; þe horss it awaytes.
Hee layed þe neck oute along & lycked his handes,
And sythe hee foldes his feete & falles too þe grounde,
And abowed [to] þe burn on his best wyse.
When Alisaunder so sawe in his syght there,
How þe steede was styll & no stryfe made,
Bale thought þat burn too bynde þat steede,
That so meeke was of moode & made no noyes.
Hee unclosed þe caue unclainte þe barres,
And straihte into þe stede stroked hym fayre.
Hee raught forthe his right hand & his rigge frotus,
And coies hym as he kan with his clene handes.
Þan hee loses his lockes his legges unbyndes,
That hee nas fast in no foote bifore ne bihynde.
Therof þe blonk was blythe & blainte no furre
But meeke was of maneres withoute mischaunce.
Was nere lambe in no land lower of chere,
No hownde to his hous-lorde so hende to queme,
Þat was leuer to lyke þe lude þat hym aught,
Þen was þe blonk to þe beurn þat hym bistint.
Þan wendes þis weih þe caue withoute,
And þe horss with his hand hendely bringes.
Soone hee leapes on-loft & lete hym worthe,
To fare as hym lyst faine in feelde or in towne.
The steede strauht on his gate & stired hym under,
And wrought no wod res but his waye holdes.
When sire Philip gan see þe seg so too ryde,
And his blonk behelde abated of wrath,
Of þe michel meekenes marueil hee had,
That þe steede so stern stynt of his fare.
He sayde, “Sonne Alisaunder of þis same chaunce
Iche had mynde in my slepe by metyng fownde.
A greate glisiande God grathly mee tolde,
That þou shalt raigne when I rotte on my ryche londes.”
“Faþer,” sayde þe freke “if þou foreknowes
That I shall leade thy landes when thy life endes,
Let mee be proued as Prince in pres where I wend,
And fende mee finliche well to fonde my strength.”
Of full fifteene yere faren too þe end,
Hee was hardye & hende happes to fond,
And such wys of his witt in worldly thynges;
Lered on letrure was þe lud then,
And of latin þe lore lellich hee wyst.
In a tyme betyd as I tell after,
That many menne of Attenes with myckle ooþer peeple,
Did þem forthe on a day by þe dupe caue,
There þe steede in stoode strayned in bondes.
They sawe lygge in theyr looke legges & armes,
Fayre handes & feete freaten too the bonne,
Of menne þat myslych wer murdred therin,
By iustes unioyfull iugged too death.
When Alisaunder was ware of þe wylde b[easte],
That was of body so bolde bremlych yshaped,
Too hym hee heelde forthe his hand; þe horss it awaytes.
Hee layed þe neck oute along & lycked his handes,
And sythe hee foldes his feete & falles too þe grounde,
And abowed [to] þe burn on his best wyse.
When Alisaunder so sawe in his syght there,
How þe steede was styll & no stryfe made,
Bale thought þat burn too bynde þat steede,
That so meeke was of moode & made no noyes.
Hee unclosed þe caue unclainte þe barres,
And straihte into þe stede stroked hym fayre.
Hee raught forthe his right hand & his rigge frotus,
And coies hym as he kan with his clene handes.
Þan hee loses his lockes his legges unbyndes,
216
Therof þe blonk was blythe & blainte no furre
But meeke was of maneres withoute mischaunce.
Was nere lambe in no land lower of chere,
No hownde to his hous-lorde so hende to queme,
Þat was leuer to lyke þe lude þat hym aught,
Þen was þe blonk to þe beurn þat hym bistint.
Þan wendes þis weih þe caue withoute,
And þe horss with his hand hendely bringes.
Soone hee leapes on-loft & lete hym worthe,
To fare as hym lyst faine in feelde or in towne.
The steede strauht on his gate & stired hym under,
And wrought no wod res but his waye holdes.
When sire Philip gan see þe seg so too ryde,
And his blonk behelde abated of wrath,
Of þe michel meekenes marueil hee had,
That þe steede so stern stynt of his fare.
He sayde, “Sonne Alisaunder of þis same chaunce
Iche had mynde in my slepe by metyng fownde.
A greate glisiande God grathly mee tolde,
That þou shalt raigne when I rotte on my ryche londes.”
“Faþer,” sayde þe freke “if þou foreknowes
That I shall leade thy landes when thy life endes,
Let mee be proued as Prince in pres where I wend,
And fende mee finliche well to fonde my strength.”
Of this bounden beaste blynne [we þe] speche,
Of King Philip þe keene karp wee now.
When Philip had with his folke faren on Greece,
And taken tresure ynough in townes full riche,
Hee hurd tell of a towne thriftily walled,
A citie sett by peece with full siker wardes,
Byzaunce þe bolde sted was þe borowe hote;
None better hym aboute þat any beurn wyst.
It was chosen for cheefe to cheffaren in,
And many merchauntes þer-in þat much goode aught.
All þe Lordes of þe lond þat large was founde,
Helde it hur cheefe holde when happe camme of warre.
Many menne of þe easte of merchauntes ynow,
Wer brought to þe borowe too biggen & sell.
No defaute nas founde in þat faire place,
On euery syde þe sea of-souhte the walles.
Pausanias a pris King none prester ifounde,
While hym lasted his lyfe on his lond riche,
Let build þe borowe too byde therin,
When hee was ferkid with fyght of his fone grimme.
That bolde borou Byzance þat buyld was to-rihtus,
Was called syn in þat coste Constantinoble,
Of Roome a riche Emperour þat reigned sythe,
Constantine hee was cleped a Knyght well alosed,
The sonne of saint Elaine þe seemelich Ladie,
That weihes worshipen yet for hur werk hende,
A neew name too þat borowe hee named þam,
And called it Constantinople þat knowen is wyde.
For þat stalworthe sted so strong was founded,
Philip hoped þat holde with his help to wynne,
For too keepe in that kith cumlich & riche
All his tresour ytryed for, in tresoun or gyle,
That none robbed þe rink of þese riche thynges.
Philip with his ferefull folke fast hym arayes,
For too prouen his pride at þe pris borowe.
Forthe rydes þe Kyng with his route huge,
And hath þe citie besett on sydes aboute;
On floode & on faire lond his folke gan hee sett,
Ȝif hee myght derie with dint þat dereworthe place.
This seg biseeged so þe citie full long,
With all þe maine þat hee myght made his assautes,
But all þe ludes þat hee ladde for loue ne for aie,
No myght apeire þe place of a peny brede.
For þat freelich freke as I fore tolde,
The kid Knight Pausanias þat King was of Spart,
That borowe in his best state let build so strong,
That all þe wightes in þe worlde it wynne ne myght,
But ȝif fode lacked too ludes within. [OMITTED]
Of King Philip þe keene karp wee now.
When Philip had with his folke faren on Greece,
And taken tresure ynough in townes full riche,
Hee hurd tell of a towne thriftily walled,
217
Byzaunce þe bolde sted was þe borowe hote;
None better hym aboute þat any beurn wyst.
It was chosen for cheefe to cheffaren in,
And many merchauntes þer-in þat much goode aught.
All þe Lordes of þe lond þat large was founde,
Helde it hur cheefe holde when happe camme of warre.
Many menne of þe easte of merchauntes ynow,
Wer brought to þe borowe too biggen & sell.
No defaute nas founde in þat faire place,
On euery syde þe sea of-souhte the walles.
Pausanias a pris King none prester ifounde,
While hym lasted his lyfe on his lond riche,
Let build þe borowe too byde therin,
When hee was ferkid with fyght of his fone grimme.
That bolde borou Byzance þat buyld was to-rihtus,
Was called syn in þat coste Constantinoble,
Of Roome a riche Emperour þat reigned sythe,
Constantine hee was cleped a Knyght well alosed,
The sonne of saint Elaine þe seemelich Ladie,
That weihes worshipen yet for hur werk hende,
A neew name too þat borowe hee named þam,
And called it Constantinople þat knowen is wyde.
For þat stalworthe sted so strong was founded,
Philip hoped þat holde with his help to wynne,
For too keepe in that kith cumlich & riche
All his tresour ytryed for, in tresoun or gyle,
That none robbed þe rink of þese riche thynges.
Philip with his ferefull folke fast hym arayes,
For too prouen his pride at þe pris borowe.
218
And hath þe citie besett on sydes aboute;
On floode & on faire lond his folke gan hee sett,
Ȝif hee myght derie with dint þat dereworthe place.
This seg biseeged so þe citie full long,
With all þe maine þat hee myght made his assautes,
But all þe ludes þat hee ladde for loue ne for aie,
No myght apeire þe place of a peny brede.
For þat freelich freke as I fore tolde,
The kid Knight Pausanias þat King was of Spart,
That borowe in his best state let build so strong,
That all þe wightes in þe worlde it wynne ne myght,
But ȝif fode lacked too ludes within. [OMITTED]
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