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The king ordand his castell wele to kepe
Apone ane crag, in myddis of the depe,
And garnissid to kepe þat na veschall
Suld to the toun be sey bring na victuall,
And syne [be] land, sidlingis before the toun,
He gart ordand sa gret provisioun
That na man micht haue ischa or entrie
In the toun, nowthir be land nor sey;
Bot than the toun sa huge michtie was
That thair was na defalt within the place,
Bot anerly of men and weriouris.
Bot in the ost þame nedis furriouris,
Quhairfore the king to mak his purvaying
Sevin hundreth knichteis ordand in forraying,
To pas furth and to fecche þame victuallis,
And to furnes thame and garnes þare battallis
(Becaus the toun traistit reskew without
Thay wald nocht ȝeld, bot held þame stiff and stout);
To governe þair sevin hundreth knichtis was
Ordand Emenedus and Perdicas,
Leonides, Caulus, and Lyconore,
Philott, Nemas, Sanson, and Doridor.
Thus semlit þai, and to the forray gane—
Emenedus was ordand þare chiftane;
Thay war of cheis sevin hundreth knichtis kene,
Quhilk everie kny[cht mycht] wele ane chiftane bene,
And all that nicht, armit on hors thai rade,
And in vail of Iosephall thai bade,
The quhilk was f[u]l of riches and of gude,
Off corne, cattall, wyne, and liffis fude.
Than in the mornyng, quhan it was licht of day,
Off fatt cattall þai sesit ane michty pray,
And wther thing þat to thame was mystere
Thay tuk with thame, and tocht to mak gud chere.
The pray was sesit, and futmen for to cache—
Off discoverouris þai send about the wacch;
Thai draif on fast, of na man stude þai aw
And in the mornyng, eftir þat day couth daw,
The hirdis to the toun of Gadderis gais,
Quhair þai had reddy money felloun fais,
And tald the Duke Betis the maner,
And he gart sembill sone a gret powar,
With ane chiftane was callit Ochtrye,
Maister of his hous, a chiftane wyse and worthy.
Thay blew þare bewgillis of bane and oliphant,
And semblit comownis ma þan ten thousand,
Baith futt and hors, and followit in the pray,
And on the feild before þame in the way,
Thame till abyde arrayeit þare menȝie.
Bot thame þat few was had no will to fle
Quhan that thai saw the comownis cumand sa—
It was na neid to spere quhair the first sould ga,
For or thai had thair battalle put to poynt,
Thai put the formest horsmen [in] sic poynt
That thai had no laysere þame till array,
Bot at the erde sa thik thay lymmearis lay,
Sum dede, sum dosit, sum amange thare hors feete.
Ochtery Emenedus could mete,
And on him brek his spere richt spedaly,
Bot he, that evir was wise, war, and worthy,
Helde waitt on him at his income agane,
And schupe till him ane straik with all his meane,
And straik him, hors and man, doun in þe feild,
That or he rayis, þe lyffe fra him he keild;
And wther mony knichtis strikin was doun,
That chiftanis war, and keparis of þe toun.
With that thare futemen all was at the flicht
Quhane that thai saw the formest was sa dicht—
Thay war begylit, for thai traistit ay
The forreouris had bene sic [l]ike as þai,
Bot, as I said before, a man wourthy
Is worth ane hundreth in sic ane ieopardy,
Quhilk þare was sene, for of þai ten thousand
Thai left ane thousand in the feild liand;
And on the chais of futemen þai wald nocht
Follow richt far, for of thame þai na roucht,
Bot gart þare awne men cacche fast on the pray,
For thai traistit till haue ane vther assay.
Than was a knicht callit Lussioun of Surry,
That nere cousing was till Ochery,
Quhilk Perdicas before had strekin doun,
Bot he recoverit, and past vnto the toun,
And tauld Duke Betys how his eme was slane,
And how þai war sa few and sa hardy,
Skant ane thousand chaist all þare cumpaney,
Bot þai had hors and armoure of vantage.
With that the Duke Betis begouth to ra[ge],
And waryit God, and wrang his handis for tene,
Sa fane he wald at þat battalle haue bene,
Inarmit him, and gart warne all mankynd
That luffit or thocht him euer till haue til freynde,
In toun and land, bayth hors and fute away,
To pas with him for to reskew þat pray—
He micht nocht bide, he was sa brynt in ire.
The forray was ay passand vnto Tyre;
With that the duke, with thame that he micht gett,
Within the toun was passand to the ȝett—
Thai blew thare buglis, þare trumpettis, þare tabouris,
With sic ane fere apoun þare forreouris,
And sich a pompe quhan thai passit fra the ȝett,
Thay tocht þai war for thame bott etin mete.
Than said Lussian, cousing Ochechery,
“Lichtly þame nocht, bot governe ȝow wisely—
Tocht ȝe be may, quhan euere ȝe cum þame to
May fall parcais to mak ȝow all ado.”
The duke him selff the dede has tane on hand—
He was nomberit wele nere thretty thousand;
His men he partit into thre battallis,
Ane vther to be reddy gif ane failȝeis,
And furth he send discouerouris on all sydis,
And into battale ordand wele he ridis.
The first batall gouernit ane nobil knycht
Callit Lussian, quhilk was baith wise and wycht,
The tothir batale govern[it] ane Graudefere,
Quhilk was baith wise and wourth[y] man of were,
The thrid the duke had in his governance,
And furth þai ride þus inttill ordinance,
Off Iosaphail endlang the fare walee,
Quhill at the last the forreouris þai se.
With þat Emenedus can thame behald,
And all his cumpaney in counsale calde,
Said, “Lo, lordingis, ȝounder is ane gret supprise—
I se cumand in batall Duke Bitis,
With all powar þat he may gudlie be;
Thare is na bute bot owtherane do or de—
We ar oure few to gif thame batale place;
Bot mekill helpe standis in Godis grace,
For in discomfort lyis nane amend—
Mak ws gud chere, and stoutlie ws defend,
And lat the futemen pas on with the pray,
And we will bide and kepe the first affray.”
With that the battallis war aprochand nere;
Sansoun knew vele þe Duke Bites baner,
The quhilk was cumand in the myddill warde—
On everie side of him he hade ane garde.
Than said Emenedus, “Lord and Hevynnis king,
Gyf Alexander wist now of all þis gadering,
Here is baith lois and lordschipe for to wyn;
I rede we send ane messingere, or we blyn,
Till him to Tyre, and bid him sp[e]id him sone”,
And sade to Lyconor, “Grant me a bone,
That ȝe vauld pas, sen ȝe ar till him dere
(He traistis ȝow best, and maist gud vald here),
And bid him salff oure livis and honoure—
We may nocht stand agane sa stalwart stoure;
And we sall do our best to kepe þe pray,
Quhill þat he cum it beis nocht drevin away.”
Than answerit Lyconor, said, “God forscheild
That euer my fute ga bakwart in the feild
Quhill I haue provit anyis quho it wilbe,
That I haue blude of thame, or thai of me.”
Than callit he Philott, and till him sade
That he wauld pas, and hartlie till him prayd,
Till Alexander, and till him schaw the dout,
How þat Duke Betis was cummyin with sic a rout
That mekill war sa few with him to striffe,
Bot sum of his best men most thorne þe liffe.
Philott ansurit, “Me think that sould nocht be,
Withoutin straik þat I sould schape to fle,
And leif ȝow in the feild, my fallowis dere;
In faith, than war my woureschipe all in were—
Quhat wauld men say, I war bot ane leare,
Bot I bare sum takynnying þat I was þare.”
Than till Sansoun prayit Emenedus,
“Fare schir, sen that ȝe se ws vexit thus,
Ȝe wald haue reuth and take þis ambassade;
For [þocht] ȝe had neuer vther seruice made
Till Alexander, ȝe seruit ȝoure warisoun,
To saif his men or thai be dongin doun;
Heir cummyis the power hale of his empire
Off quhilk landis [ȝ]e sould be lorde and syre—
It is more drede of ȝow þan of the lave,
For be ȝe tane, þare may na gold ȝow save,
Quhairfore me think it settis best to ȝow
To do this message to the king as now.”
Than ansured Sansoun wys richt worthely,
Sayand, “I had lever consent þat I
Sould tyne all richtis, baith of lordschip and land,
Na leif my feris quhill I on fute may stand.”
Than callit he apoun Leonides,
The quhilk was drawand furthwart in the preis,
And till him hartfully he maid requeist
That he wauld grant to pas at his behest,
Quhilk ansur[it] schortlie, sayand, “I traist nocht
That ȝe of myne honoure sa litil roucht—
Wauld ȝe of me now mak ane messingere,
And sic ane powar on ȝow cumand here?
In faith ȝe mak na messingere of me
Quhill I haue first assayit how it wilbe.”
Syne said he, “Perdicas, my brodere dere,
Haue pitie of thir folk, I ȝow require,
For be þir folk discomfist in þis place,
King Alexander sall neuer haue blyithnes;
Had I nocht charge the chiftane for to be,
I sould nocht send na vthir man na me.”
Than ansurid Perdicas, that was hie bend,
Sayand, “Ȝour witte is no thing to commend,
To send away na man þat micht avaleȝe—
Sic ane gudman may win a hale battale,
And sempillare men mycht wele do ȝour message,
That micht nocht turne þe feild to sic damage.”
With that Caulus was grathand vp his gere,
As wourthie man sould do in tyme of were,
And till him said Emenedus, “Fare schir,
Quhat think ȝe best be done in þis myster?
Lo here our fais cumand at our hand,
And we ar few thare powar to ganestand;
We ar vndone bot we ane message gett,
To tak the pray a quhile þocht we thame lett;
Thay ar sa huge and grete of quantetie,
That at the last we mon owthir fle or de—
That war piete, þan war oure gude men loist;
Quhairfore, and ȝe vauld pas vnto the ost,
And bring with ȝow sum men to mak rescours,
Than micht ȝe save baith livis and honouris.”
Than ansurid Caulus as a man of mude,
Sayand, “I had levar ly butterand in my blude,
And all my memberis revin my body fra,
Na to consent a fute a-bak to ga—
Than war I mekill war na ane tratoure,
To leif my fallowis in to sa stalwart stoure,
And tak ane knaiffis office apoun hand,
And thai in parrell in the feild fechtand.”
Syne till Arestes efter he maid his mayn,
And to Anthiocus, to baith as ane,
Sayand that, sen King Alexander nere,
“And we be tynt for falt of messingere,
He will it repute till ws gret folie,
Quhairfor me think we suld avisitlie
Se for remede, and mak sum messingere,
And nocht in our defalt be perist here;
I meyne mare Alexander, þe nobill king,
Quhilk for oure dede sould mak sic doloring
That he sal nevir into þe erde haue ioye.”
With that Duke Betis come in sic array,
Wele mare þan [twa and thretty] thousand in a rout,
That he thame thocht til haue closit about
In sic maner that nane sould chape away;
Bot hichty men, þat pride dissavis ay,
Throw þare outrage suppois þai mony be,
Oft ar defoulit with ane few menȝie.
Thay said schortlie þai sould nevir leif the feild
Quhill hale war hors and harnes, spere and scheild—
To bring ane message in tyme of were
With hors and harnes hale, and all þare gere,
It is no takin of worthy man hardy,
Bot of herrald, or coward vnworthy.
Than till Antigonus his mane he made,
Quhil[k] till him maid schorte anser, or abaid,
Sayand, “Quhan I haue sene my blude ryn doun
Endlang my child, my cote, and my blasoun,
Than war it tyme in message for to ga,
For thai may nocht him schorne that cummys fra.”
Sa saw he lichtit ane pure locutoure,
Ane strangere, cumand to be ane sodeoure,
And till him hecht gret lordschip for to gif,
And euer to be his frynd quhill he micht liff,
To pas to Tyre and tak the charge in hand;
With that the man, quhilk was hors girdand,
Thinkand he sould strike doun ane presonere,
To mak him riche, and kepe him fro mystere,
Than said he, “Lord, I am ane pure strangere,
And to be lele I haue f[a]r mare mystere,
For and I in my newing cowart be,
Thare sall neuer man fra þis day rew on me;
I haue the kingis gold and wage tane—
God gif me grace I may heir quyte his layn;
Giff I sould in the tyme of battale fle,
Than hade he sett his gude full ill on me.”

To se quhat dule þan maid Emenedus
Quhan he the battale saw in-cumand thus,
And couth nocht gett ane messingere to send,
And to the hiest God he him commend,
His life, his honoure, and of his cumpaney,
And of [his] maister, the nobill king wourthy;
With that the teris com tigland our his face—
To here his wordis þan gret pitie was,
Sayand, “Adew, most worthy king of price,
Adew, King Alexander of Dularis,
Adew my lufe, adew quhome for I de;
Now watt I wele þow sall neuer efter me se;
I am the caus of thare distructioun,
I am the caus of þar confusioun,
For þow me bad to tak of þai menȝe
Als mony as me list to tak with me,
And, for my pride and my hie arrogance,
I did my will, and nocht þai ordinance—
Now am I caus of all the peresing
Off all this pepill, and of the nobill king.
God gif my liffe mycht succoure all the laf,
And I war dede, and depe doun in my grave;
Smal tinsale war, suppois my dede war dicht,
Bot throw me will sa mony wourthy knicht
This day or evin baith livis and guidis lorn.
Ane hard fortoun was ordand me beforin;
Allace the day that euer I armes bare.”
With that he sobbit and he sighit sare;
Than come Sansoun, and bad him mak gud chere,
And vndertuk tobe his messingere,
Bot he first wald assay to brek his spere,
That he sum takin micht till his maister bere—
Thus, of sevin hundreth knichtis þat þare war,
Thare was nocht ane to be ane messingere;
Bot soft and fare ȝit was the futemen ay
Vnto the toun of Tyre drivand the pray.

Thare was none ho—withoutin mare abaid
The duke a menȝie send before him had
On the futmen, to call agane the pray,
Bot wely men, þat oft was at the say,
Forsaw that cast, and mett þame in the front,
And wele tua hundreth speris in a [b]ront
Straik of the formest doun and the proudest,
Quhilk that to follow þe laif had no lest.
With that the duke com formest in the rout,
Ane forthy man, ane stourdy and a stout,
Till Sawsoun etlit him, for he him knew
Be his portray of armes, and the hewe,
And Sawsoun in the scheild ane straik him fest,
Quhill þat his spere al into schulderis brest;
The duke him persit vnder-neth the pape,
And throw the cors him bare, sic was his hap;
With that his seyngȝe loude on hie he cryit.
Emenedus the straik had wele espyit,
And for deseis of Sawsoun almoist swownit,
For hade he levit, he sould as king be crovnit.
“O Alexander”, he said, “full wa is the,
For wourthy Sawsoun sall þow neuer mare se;
A, gentill king, quhy slepis þow sa lang?
Bot and þow wist þai folk war in sic thrang,
Suld nevir ioy nor blyithnes licht þai hart
Quhill that thow war in cummying hiddirwart;
Now ar þow lyk to tyne al þai vantage
Off his honoure, wourschipe, and wassalage.”
Syne cum þare ane wise maister of the lawis,
Inarmit wele into the preis him drawis;
Ane proude man and ane michty lord was he—
Men callit him Saladyne of Sardaynȝhe.
Emenedus was brym as ony bare,
And with the spurris he sped him, and nocht to spare,
Gaif him ane straik of spere richt sturdely,
The trunschioun left stikand in his body.
Off Turkis thare was ane gret cumpaney,
Quhilk ay to Grekis hade fede and fellony;
Thai did euermare dispice with thame fechtand—
Thai[r] chapit nane quhome of thai had ourehand;
Bot Perdicas, and eik Leonides,
Thame counterit sa into the he[i]t and preis
That of thare chiftanis ay the proudest bad—
Gude men drawis to gretest men of haid.
Syne com ane knicht was callit Corneus,
In companey was to Artigonus,
Quhilk fellit ay the formest of the flott,
And curuit the halbirk of mony haltane cote.

Into the batale was ane knicht of prise
Was callit Gawdefer of Dularis—
He sett on Arestes to do prowes,
And he agane him schupe him sic ane dres,
Quhill baith þare speris sauraly brak in sounder—
Þocht scheild and all war persit, was na wounder;
And ay with þis Emenedus fechtand was
Aganis the proudest he saw into the preis,
That na man micht the multitude reheris
That þare was slane of Gadderis and of Pers,
For ay as þai preissit furth into þe chais,
The wourthy knichtis of Grece ay reddie was,
And ay the formest to the erde thai straik,
And gart the hyndmest ay for raddour quaik,
And ay fechtand held thame in tarying
Quhill þai sould haue sum tythingis of the king.
Than said the duke, “Gif all the men of Grew
Be sic as thir, few nomber war ynew
To conquest all þe laif of þis cuntre;
Thay ar devillis, likis na man to be.”
Emenedus tuke tent to Gaddefere,
Sa wourthy þat gouernit him in were,
That till him ane gret fauour gafe hie—
It was grett ioy apoun him for to se,
Sa wourthely and knichtly he him bare,
And derit þame mare na ony þat was þare;
And he agane commendit Emenedus—
Ȝitt ma tua fais ilkane favoure vthir thus,
And kepe þare honour and þare observance,
And to þare lord þare lawtie and allyance.
Be this Emenedus recounfort was,
And tocht to mak revangiance or he pas
For gude Sansoun, quham for his hart was sair,
And to the erd ane lord of Gadderis he bare,
And throw the cors, quhill he was dede all out;
Syne “Massedoun” þai cryit all with ane schout.
Quhan that he saw his party held the feild,
And mony wourthy man dede vnder scheild,
With that Duke Bites on him sett in haist,
And brek his spere, and kest him doun almaist;
With that the Turkis agane on thame relyid,
And thare ensenȝe of Pers and Gadderis cryid,
Of Macedoun hurt mony men and hors,
Quhill almoist all was woundit in the cors,
Thare harnes rent, and bledand wounder fast,
That ferly was quhill þai in stoure micht last.
With that come Saladins in on ane side,
Ane nobill knicht, ane man of mekill pride,
With him sevin thousand men in his battailȝie
Of tryit men, of all þare ost þe vailȝe,
And sett apoun þe douzeperis til vmbedo.

Bott as þai war ane bowschott nere cummyn to,
Sa saw þai Alexander and his ensenȝe,
Cummand anone with ane full plesand menȝhe,
The quhilk was warnit in the samyn day
Be futmen þat war drivaris of the pray;
Quhan he it hard, Lord God! quhat he was wa,
And son to cum na sudiorne wauld he may,
Bot alsa fast as hors micht bere his fete.
Bot þare was na man þat micht hald for grete,
To here the meane that Alexander maid
Quhan of þe dede of Sansoun herd he had,
And how Emenedus was woundit sare,
Na nane left hale, nouther les nor mare,
And Pirrus and Cont Sabilor war dede.
He was sa wa he wryith and schuke his hede,
The teris our his chekis tiglit doun,
That litill falȝete na he had fallin in sowun;
And as þai saw cumand þare emprioure,
Than war þai stad in to the stiffast stoure,
And in the hardest, þat þai hed bene þat day—
Forbled and fochtin, sa irkit war þai,
That [þame] behuffit on nede force þame to ȝeld,
Had nocht the king þan cummyn to the feild.
The Duke Bites, þat saw the king cumand
With sic ane ost, was vounder sare dredand;
He was the first that come in battale place,
And sone fra ane þe life he couth arrais—
Sa throw the feild he dowpit in the preis
Quhare him tocht the maist preis of fechtin was.
Than was his men sa blayth quhan þai him knew,
That ilkane of þame had a corrage new,
That sic ane was before reddy to de,
Quhilk as ane lioun stark agane was he—
It may nocht be coimptit here all þare dedis,
Bot till oure purpois alsa fer as nedis.
Within ane stound þare battellis bakkit war,
And all þare chiftanis put in gret dispare.

The duke callit Gaudefere, and till him sade,
“Off this cummying I am na thing appayed—
This is a fortuned man with his menȝe;
Thare is nocht here bot owtherane do or de.”
With that into the cietie þai gart crye
That all men sould to Duke Bites raly,
On hors and futt, þat micht a wappin bere,
And all nobillis armytt with scheild and spere;
Recomford thame, bad thame haue gud corage,
And till his nerrest frindis send message
To send him helpe, vndir gret panis strang,
Bot as I trest, þat help wil bid to lang.
Emenedus, Philot, and Lyconor,
Quhan Alexander was fechtand þame before,
Thai was liouns stark renewit agane,
Of his cummyn þai war sa wounder fane.
With that the kingis hart was bendit hie,
And sett to ane callit Calett de Nube,
And straik him, baith hors and man, to þe ground,
Quhilk, straik dede, fra the hors he couth rebound,
Syne to Thaloun, þat Duke was of Village,
And straik him doun als lichtlie as ane page—
He sett his straik with sa gret force and meane
That quha[m] he hit recoverit nocht agane;
With that his spere apoun that duke he brekis,
And till ane wther with swerde ane strake he rekis,
Hit him oure-thwort þe myddil with sic a will,
With all his force and power put þairtill,
Quhill fra the myddill vpflaw in to the feild
Baith body, helme, hawbrek, spere, and scheild—
The leggis sat in the sadill clos and fast;
With þat Duke Bites was richt sare agast.
Than Graudefere, that was ane nobill knicht,
Saw Alexander sa money to dede had dicht—
His hart encressit, and tocht to preve him anyis;
With that thai sett apoun him all attanis,
The duke, and Gaudefere, and wther tua;
The kingis spere was brokin, and him fra,
Bot Graudefere, quhilk hed ane hors of price,
Sett on the king before the Duke Bites,
And hitt the king in myddis of the scheild,
And straik him flatlingis doun into the feild,
Quhill girthis and patrall crakkit al attanis,
Betuix his leggis oure the sadill gane is,
And Gaudefere is passit by his wayis.
With that Duke Bites till his feris sayis,
“Have at him now—the king is at the erde!”
Than Bussifal sa rampit and him sterde,
With tuskis, harnyes, and fete he delt sic rowtis
That nane micht rest þat nere about þe king is,
Quhill Tholomere, Dauclyn, and eik Clissoun
With þare battalle was cumand reddie boun,
Reskewit the king and drest him in his gere,
Set him on hors, gaif him ane wther spere;
Than was the king mair egir na before,
That fall gart money ane man, þair livis lo[r]e.
The douzeperis þan gret wowis and mannance made—
Ilkane said, and þai Graudefere now hed,
Be þare godis all, he sould full dere aby;
Than Alexander smylit ane litill wy,
Said, “Ceis ȝour mannassing, and lat him pas—
He durst ȝow mete ilkane, be Godis grace,
Or ony of the wichtast of ȝour rout,
Ilkane ane cours, and serve all about;
And fand I him in parrell in ony stour,
I sould him save, his liffe and his honour;
Till haue his hert, his lufe, and his convers,
I had him levar na all þe gold in Pers;
And here I ȝow command, and all the lave,
That gif ȝe may his liffe and honour save,
That no man þis day put him to the dede,
Vnder the pane of myne euerlestand fede,
For I sett nocht all hardie man to sla,
Bot los and wourschip till all wourthy to ma,
And kepe kyndnes to wourthy men þat kynd is—
Off all my fais I think to mak my frindis.”

With þis the kingis men was cumand on,
And lowde þai cryit þe senghȝe of Macedone;
The King Bites na thing wele favorit was
With his lordis, quhilk gart þame leif þe place.
The grevis war grete, the stoure was stour and strang,
The folk of Gadderis hed bene fechtand lang,
Thai war ilk fane wauld haue bene away—
Thare micht men se gude laid on wther lay;
And quhan þai saw þat þare was na comforte,
Bot cryit, “Ossy, ossy! Amort, amort!”
(Occide, Occide! Ad mortem, ad mortem!)
Thay tuke the flicht, and fled toward þe toun,
Bot ay the douchtiest was dungin doun,
For ay the best is he[nm]est in þe flicht,
To kepe and saif þair folk with all þare micht—
In the c[h]ace the best is ay formest,
And comounly þare melis the wourthiest.
The duke was dolly þat his men war lo[r]e,
For he was nevir deforsit of before,
And evir he drew him hyndmest for to se,
And succour þame quhair mister maist saw he,
And with Gaudefere of Dularis,
Quhilk was baith hardy, worth[y] man and wise,
Ane nobill werioure in tyme of were,
And weill in tyme couth sett a strake of spere;
And till him ay Emenedus had ee—
Full money of þare gud men slane had he.
Than the Constabill of Gaderis, Ardevalle,
The quhilk was sittand on ane fare destralle,
With vtheris henmest war into the flicht—
Than Dauclyn, quhilk was wourth[y] man and wicht,
Sett on him, and his spere in feutre kest,
And hit him quhill his hawbrek all to-brest,
Quhill throw the body flatlingis to the erde
He bare him stark dede, þat he nocht sterd.
Than Tholome the duke saw draui[n] hame,
And tocht, gif he sould schape it hed bene schame,
And draw at him, and strak him of his stede,
And tuke his hors away to him to leid.
Thus Comnyer, þat saw þat all was tynt,
Schupe him to do ane proves or he stynt,
Sayand, “Adew, of þe Gaderis the honour—
This day of wourscheip thai haue tynt the flour”;
With that ane Greik he hitt vnder his blasoun,
And to the erde dede stiff he strak him doun.

With that was cumand gentill Gaudifere,
Quhilk hard that worde as he was cumand nere,
And schupe ane strak, and hit ane man of pride
Of Macedone, hit him apoun ane side,
Quhill quhyte ourethrow his cost his pannoun past,
And left the trunscheoun stikand in him fast,
And he fell doun—he micht na forther ga.
Emenedus in hart þan wounder wa
Quhan he saw sa the kingis men ga doun,
And thare famen fast fleand to þe toun,
And Gaudefere sa kepit þe reregarde
That quhair he was, the flearis had [ay] ward,
For he drew ay betuix þame and the st[ra]kis,
That money a dynt baith dalis he and takis;
For [þ]ocht we tell the dedis þat we on ruvn,
Ten thousand wourthiar dedis þare was doun
Na money ane wther þat we mak of gret feist,
Bot sum thing man we tell, be the leist.
This Gaudefere sett him the folk to kepe,
As fra the lioun gud hird wald his scheip,
And all the feild with slane men war ourspred,
And all þare folk was to the citie fled;
Apone his hede ane ladyis sleif bare he,
Quhilk was the kingis douchtir of Nube,
And in his scheild tua liounis crest of gold—
Was nevir man mare wourthy on the molde.

Thus in the chace cumand, Emenedus
Saw Gaudefere his pepill kepand thus,
And tocht on Sansoun with ane grete regrett,
And saw þat Gaudefere was dissolate,
And had bot few to helpe him in a nede,
And with his spurris his coursoure he gart spede,
And tocht that he sould nocht pas haffelles;
Than Gaudefere, þat last was in the chais,
Saw him approche, and drest him til him evin—
Thare was na helpe bot at þe God of Hevin.
Emenedus, that euer was gud and traist,
Sett him to mete, and in his gere him drest,
Bot Gaudefere him hitt in myd the scheld,
His spere in splenderis, and fell doun in the feild;
Emenedus, that saw him sum thing bare
Before the scheild, and ettillit him in þare,
And throw the breist him bare, and clave his hert,
That he spak neuer worde syne efterwart.
Than Alexander, quhilk saw the straik, him lovit,
For ioy and sorrow baith his hart removit,
Sayand, “Allace, gif I þai liffe micht save,
For ony gold or riches that I haue—
Thow art ane oure gret iowel to be tynt”,
And gart men bring him furth, or euire he stynt,
Out of the feild, to se gif he wald liffe,
Sayand, ten mulliounis he wald gif,
To haue his liffe, his hert, and his gud will—
Bot all was donn, na fourtoun was thare till.
Than ordand he to erde him honerablie,
Gart mak ane sepulture richt rich[e]ly,
In Gadderis, in a tempill of Marthus;
Bot pitie was to here Emenedus,
The reuth and the regrett þat he of him made,
And the grete sorrow þat he for him hade.
Than spak ane presoner þat was thare tane,
Quhilk was ane Cetoyre, a Gadriane,
Said Alexander baith and Emenedus
Was nocht sa wa for Sansoun and Pirrus
As Gaudifere, bot in the tyme of were
Thare may na man ane wther þare forbere—
The wourschip of the were, and the valoure,
Garris everie man . . . for his honour.

Quhen Gaudefere was dede, þare come attanis
Ane grete battale of new Tartarianis,
And with thame þe Almerall of Slignȝe,
Bot God wate quhat kin a rusty menȝe
Thay war, ane grete grislie cumpaney,
On sturdy steidis cumnyn out of Arabye;
Thare was richt money woundit at þe cours,
Bot at þe nede poynt þai gat ay reskours;
Philot was st[ri]kin doun, and Lyconor,
And wele reskewit, as we haue said before.
Quhan Alexander þat new battale had sene,
Till him semblit þe douzeperis all bedene,
And God wate quhatkin leveray on þai laid:
The folk of Tartary was sa affr[ey]it,
Quhan þai sa gret ane multitud had sene
Off wourthy men, ly walterand on þe grene,
Sum dede, sum woundit, in thare dedly thraw,
And all the folk to Gadderis fle þai saw,
Than said þai, “Þis is na thing wele, God wate;
Here is na bute—we man ga on oure gate.”
Sum kest þare armoure and na delay þai mak,
Sum fled and kest þare schildis on þare bak,
And ilkane eftir wther fled away—
Thus of the battale brokin was þe array.
Thay socht þe feild and helpit nakit men,
And band þare woundis as þai micht [b]est do þen;
Emenedus and Lyconor sa mekill bled
That into sowun þai fell doun in þat stede;
With that the king his handis wraist,
Sayand, “Allace, my God, in The I traist—
Now am I sikker, and I tyne þis doery,
Adew fra me the floure of wictory;
Now sall I neuer haue ioy into my hert,
And I may haue my memberis hale and quart,
Quhill I his blude se sched into þe place,
Quhilk has me reft sa ryall a riches.”

With þat the duke was into the toun inclosit,
And money of his menȝie þe liffe had losit,
And Gaudefere was dede, and mony maa;
Sa was þare of the kingis ost alsua,
Quhat hurt, quhat dede, a thousand knichtis kene,
In Iosaphailȝe was liand on the grene,
Quhare of before the batalle done hes bene [OMITTED]
And gart bryn[g] bottall of the balme riall,
Quhilk in a nycht wald mak all voundis hale
Off þame þat liff wald, and thame to liff war schapin,
For quhilum dede will tak sum, as will happin.
That nycht þai maid gud chere into the ost,
Thay hed ynewch, and wayndit for na coist,
And on the morne, or it was day dawin licht,
Off Bites men þame ȝeildit mony a knicht
Till Alexander, quhilk [michtie] lordis were,
Sayand, “The wourthy renovne that we here
Off þai larges, þai wourschip and fredome,
Makis ws into þai seruice for to cum;
The lordis of þis land alhalely
Thinkis all to ȝeild thame to th[y] seingȝery.”
The ost refereschit þame þare al the nicht,
And Duke Bites had semblit money a knicht,
And tocht apoun the morne þame till assailȝe,
Bot all his mycht nocht helpit him a mailȝe,
For all the maist part þat war into the toun,
To cum to Alexander was reddy bovn.
Than Alexander had gart till him ralye
Fra Tyre the sege alhale his cumpaney,
And gart put in his castell garnissoun—
He ordanid to kepe vittale fra the toun,
And left intil it wourthy men and wise,
With certane schippis ordand and devise,
And ordand alanerly þame to kepe the sey
Quhill þat agane fra Gadderis cumin war he.

Apoun the morne, als sone as day couth daw,
The tentis rais, the trumpis and bemes þai blaw;
The ost was sone arrayit in the feild,
The lordis come on all side þame to ȝeild,
And Alexander with gud chere þame ressett,
Grete giftis þame gaiff, and gratiously þaim grete,
And to the toun þai pas with ane accorde.
The Duke Bites saw þat þai maid þame ford,
And callit the pepill and askit thame counsale,
And with ane voce þai ansured him alhale,
The lordis of þe land and the Gadryanis,
With ane consent þai said him al attanis
That thai war nocht of power to ganestand
The michty power that thai saw cumand,
Quharefore þai wauld till Alexander annerd.
Than Duke Bites was never half [s]a ferd,
And bad all men þat luffit him follow fast,
And at ane prevy postrum out he past,
And on ane montane quhilk [the toun beside is],
He and his men thare cumpaney abidis—
Thare followit him bot few men of þe land,
Bot strangeris þat till helpe him was cumand,
Quhilk Dare had send, of Pers and of Medaynys,
Off Barbaris, Turkis, and of Tartarianis.
And quhan the king was eft com to the toun,
The lordis of þe cetie maid thame boun,
And mete the king with grete solempnitie,
Maid him fewta, and all his men tobe,
And vp thai kest the ȝettis opin wide;
The king to ressaue þai[m] vald nocht abide,
Bot in allhaist he followit on the chais
Eftir Duke Bites, quhare he fleand was,
And to the hill quhare he his folk abade.
The king drew hidder, and na tary made;
Thai saw him cum, and couth nane vther wane—
Thay tocht it best, til wther said ilkane
To gif him feild, cum efter quhat sa may,
And put þame as þai micht in gude array;
Thare was ynew to fecht for ane batalȝe,
Bot men ar tynt fra þat þare hartis falȝie.
The stoure was grete quhan þat the battaillis mete,
Quhan euery berne apoun his fallow bett,
And speris brak on scheildis þat was schene;
Quhat heriald micht the strakis all haue sene—
To here be coimptit mekill meruel war.
The Turkis and the Tartarianis wele þame bare,
Bot ay the duke was reddy to [the] flicht—
And he war tane, he wist his dede war dicht;
Bot þat the king providit had before:
He ordanid Tholome to pas before,
To kepe the flicht gif þat the duke vald fle,
And quhan he saw it micht na bettir be,
He strak into the stoure sa sturdely
That he was slane richt sone and haistalie,
Sayand, ane hundreth tymes he had levar de,
Na with his fais ane presonare to be;
Bot ar he deit, he did sa wourthely
That it was knawin he was a knicht hardy.
Quhan Tholomere saw him drawand abak
For till haue fled, his spere in hand he tak,
And vauld sa fane on him revengit bene
That hors and man he strake doun on the grene;
Bot he was wele reskewit haistaly—
The men of Pers defendit sturdely,
And on his hors þai drest him agane,
Gaif him his spere, quhareof he was full fane;
With that King Alexander was drawand ne—
He tocht on Sansoun quhan he couth him se.
Sa com nere by ane knicht callit Methoas,
Quhilk of the Sawdanis men ane chiftane was—
Betuix the duke he drew him and the king;
Dawclyne þat saw, draif at him in a ling,
And to the ground him bare and his destralle,
Quhill in the erde was stikand his tynralle.

The duke sat on ane stede callit Bonifasse,
That of that land ane of þe best hors was;
The king him saw, and spurrit Bussifall,
And tocht he sould nocht tyne al his trauel;
The duke [him] saw cumand, and wald nocht bide,
Bot fled in haist als fast as he micht ride.
With þat the batall of Tartarianis,
Off Persanwis, Medianis, and Barbarianis,
Ilkane of thame tuik flicht ane sindri way,
Ilkane to thare awin cuntrie ettillit þai,
Throw woddis and forrestis, sauf him quha micht best sauff;
Sum, levand hors and armour, tuke ane stauff,
In buskis and brais sum hid þame quhare þai micht—
The chais endurit all day quhill the nicht;
Till Alexander God sic ane fortoun send
That of the duke Bites he maid ane end,
And sic ane chais apoun his men made he,
The flicht þai followit tua dayis or thre,
Throw the wod and wattir, throw buskis and throw brais.
With that the king agane to Gadderis gais,
Ressauit the toun and conforte his menȝie;
With that the lordis hale of þat cuntre
Till Alexander þai come and maid homage,
And he, that was baith wise, wourthy, and sage,
Rewardit thame, and gaif thame giftis grete;
Syne till his chalmer past, and him retrete,
Disarmit him and maid him richt gude chere,
And with his dousperis past till his dynere,
For he had bene lang fastand all the day,
And maid gude chere, with mekill gamyn and play.
As he was sittand in his maiestie,
Sa come ane message fra his awne menȝe
That he had left to kepe the towne of Tyre,
And said Duke Balis, þat þare was lord and syre,
Had na thing left of his castell on fute,
Bot in the sey had castin, crope and rute,
And left nevir stane apoun stane standand,
And all his men left in the sey drownand,
That nane was left tythingis for to bring.
Quha was mare crabit nor the nobill king?
Gart warne þe ost, and ordand for the toun,
And on the morne he made him reddy boun
Vnto the toun of Tyre þe nerrest way,
To Duke Balis þe sege agane to lay.
Quhan Duke Balis had hard all the tithing
Off Duke Bites, and of the toun wynning,
And quho the wourthiest knichtis of King Dare
Lege men till King Alexander cumin ware,
He was sa dred he trymblit for raddoure,
And sare fortocht þat he had spilit the toure;
With all power þe citie purvayit he,
For he wist wele þare was bot do or de.

Quhan Alexander approchit nere the toun,
And saw that his castelle was dungin doun,
And all war lost his schippis and his men,
He made na grete semblant þat men micht ken,
To gif his men discoimfort na wanhope,
Bot suddanly past all in till ane sope
About the toun, and sone gaif it a sailȝe,
And gart ane ost stand still in plane battalȝe,
And send eftir his schippis be the sey,
Off quhilk he had ane huge quantetie—
Quhare evir he past in hosting by the land,
He had ane flot of schippis be sey cumand,
Quhilom ane thousand schippis, quhilom ma,
And quhan he wald ane gret charge vnderta, [OMITTED]
The fortoun fallowit him sa halely
That euery man plesit his cumpaney
Quhan thai hade of him knawlege and cunnyng—
Sa wele it sett him for to be ane king;
And he couth sa wele pleis his men and love,
It was delite apoun him for to gove,
For his delite was sett in all nobilles,
In wertew, honour, and in hie prowes.
He said, “Barrownis, I mak ȝow my regrate;
Me think ȝe aw me wele till hate—
Ȝe se quho I ȝow haue distroyeit and waistit,
And mony of ȝow to ȝour dede has haistit;
I pray to God he to me grace vauld send,
That I to ȝow may aynis mak ane mend.”
Thus to the toun alssone the sege he laid,
And to the assalt the banerris all displayid,
Bot all þare dede þe toun nocht dred ane myte.
The king þareat had wounder and dispite—
For ony falt or failȝe þai micht ma,
The schippis and galais come ay to and fra,
Brocht newis and wictuallis to the toun of Tyre,
With all conforte fra Dare and his empire,
And all þat þai wauld mak apoun ane day,
Within ane houre the watteir bare away.

Sone eftir this, within ane day or tua,
The flott of schippis come in gude array,
Thre thousand schippis, bargis and galyis;
With that the king behaldis and thame seis,
And callit patrouns and maisteris of the flote,
And thai straik sale, send furth a galiote;
The patroun come, and with the king concrabit,
And ane thing nedelingis grant him hie behufit,
That of the schippis he wald ane quantetie
Consent to bore and drowin into the sey
In myddis the hevin, quhare schippis to the toun
Was ay cumand with þare prouisioun.
Than ordand þai, þai sould tak of the place
Apoun the roche, quhare are the castell was,
And fill ane hundreth schippis ful of stanis
Into the hevin, and synk thame all attanis,
Sa that þai sould cum nevir into the toun,
Schip or galay, to bring prouisioun;
Syne to the land þai fillit all the dykis,
And stoppit all þe passage and the sykis,
And held in bandoun all the hale cuntre,
That na refuge mycht cum, be land or se,
And ordanid þa[r] ane staff of grete larges,
Off wele ane hundreth faddum, and na les,
And maid on it ane somer-castell stout,
Quhare wele ane thousand men micht fecht in rout;
And quhan þat i[t] was full and he at all,
Thay brocht the staff, wele garnist, to þe wall,
And sett the staff quhare þat the benfrey was,
Quhilk was þe gretest [tour] of all the place,
And ankerit it with irin chenȝeis doun;
It was hiear na wale was of the toun,
And quhan the men war sett in it fechtand,
Apoun the toure faucht with þame hand for hand,
And quhan the sey rais, and the tyde and houre,
The staff was hyare na the hiest toure,
And in that hiest toure Duke Ballas was,
For it was the moist strenth of the place.

The havin was clois, þe sege was be þe land,
And Alexander was ay assailȝeand,
Bot quhan he hard the duke was in the toure,
Fornent the somer-castell in the stoure,
He wauld nocht ceis quhill he sould him assalȝe—
He vald all thing haue provit, sett or faleȝe,
And in þe somer-castell pas he wald,
To pruffe his fortoun—þare micht no man him hald.
Than ordand he ane drawbrig for to fall
Out fra the somer-castell on the wall:
On every side ane ryall quhile he suld be
Apoun the wall or ony man micht se.
Into the nycht he maid þis ordanying,
And on the morne sone, be þe day dawing,
Out of the somer-castell he was gane,
Apoun the bowfray toure him all alane;
The duke him saw, and wist wele hie was fa,
And of þe toure he lett ane springald ga,
And brek his scheild, and all to picis thrussit,
And of þe toure with þat on him he brussit,
And tocht to cleve him all his body doun,
Bot Alexander him hitt apoun the croun,
And cleve him quhill the hawbrek held agane,
And oure the toure he kest him in the plane,
Towart the toun, amange his awne menȝe.
Bot lord! quhat harrow was in þat ciete,
Quhan, in the starkest toure in all þare place,
Thare lord was slane, þare toun discoimfist was.
Than was nocht ellis bot quha mycht fle and go,
To tempillis and to tavernis, to and fro;
Syne fro the somer-castell sone coim þai,
Ane thousand men armit in gud array—
With thame þai brocht his banner and pynoun,
And sett it vp, and sesit the dungeoun,
Syne doun þai passit, and rasit vp the ȝettis
(Thai fand na man þat in thare way þam lettis),
And in thare come the floure of Massedone,
And all the toun þai spuleȝete vp and doun,
Bot þare was gret fechting or þai had done—
The skry rais, the cietie semblit sone,
And in ane gret plane of ane markate place,
Or it was none, ane batall strikin was,
That money a man come þare to þare ending,
For cokkis ar all-wayis cant on þare mydding;
The douzeperis did sa douchtely þat day
That of þe toun hale masteris sone war þai,
And furthwith þai dispuleȝeit all the toun,
And mynyth the wallis of þe gret dungeoun;
Thay slew that þai wald sla, and flemyt þe laif—
Thare was bot few of men that thai wald saif;
Thay fyrit the toun, and brak doun all the wallis,
The fare pallais, the chalmeris, and the hallis,
Quhil[l] þare was left na hous þare habitabill,
Sa mekill as to putt ane hors in ane stabill.
The Prince of Pinsoun in the place was dede,
And all his heris, and burges of þe stede;
Gif ony chapit by wattir or wod away,
Full few of men was savit as þat day,
In vengeance of the castell brokin doun.
All þis of Tyre distroȝeit was the toun,
Bot he held still Gadderis in till his hand,
Quhill he sould fewta haue of all þat land.

Than that that brak away fra þis melle
Thay past to King Dare, baith be land and se,
And tauld him all the maner of this thing,
Quhareof King Dare had mekill mervelling,
And quho his lordis quhilk he mast [traist] in had
Manrent and fewta till King Alexander had made,
And quho the land, bot gif he mak defence,
Wald turin all hale to his obediance.
Than sperit King Dare of his conditioun,
His luke, his maneris, feris, and fassoun,
And þan þai schew him into perfite payntoure
All hale his fassoun and his portratoure,
His lenth, his braid, his wissage, and [co]llour,
Perfitely payntit eftir his stature.
And quhan King Dare had sene his quantetie,
Sa litill of stature and of mak was he,
He angirrit and he rampit for dispite,
And with him-selff began to chide and flite,
And tocht that he sould fecht with him a day,
Bor man for man, com eftir quhat sa may,
And coimptit [him] bot as ane barne or page,
He was sa litill of stature and parage,
And send till him ane message haistalie
With certane barnis playokis scornandly,
That was to say a gol[f]-staff and ane ball,
And ane scurge-stik to drife ane top withall;
With that ane chaplet of gold and perreye
Like till ane mytir, in takin of folly,
And as in sindrie contrie barnis vsis
Till were myterris in clerk playis and gysis.
And ane pestill he send with messingeris,
In forme and maner as contenit heir is:

“Dare, king of kings and lord of lordis all,
Cousing of goddis and to the son with-all—
Blithis þe warld with brichtnes of his bemes,
Sa my lordschip oure vther lordschip lemes,
For all the goddis of Pers with ane accorde
Ar consentand oure all me to be lord—
Till Alexander, my sugett and seruand:
How dar ȝe tak sa grete thing apoun hand
To cum into my land but my gude levis,
With sic ane menȝe of revaris and of thevis
To mak me were, sen all thi eldaris war
My legis men, and tribute pait to Dare?
I haue hard how ȝow cumyis towart me
With money revearis and thevis sic as the,
And slais my men, herreis and stroyeis my landis.
I marvell quhat be þis thow vnderstandis,
Bot þai vaneglore and folie garris the,
As wantones oft movis ane barne to be,
And for ane multitude of ȝoung revaris,
Off thevis and murtheraris þat na man sparis,
Giffis the swetenes, entre, and withgang,
Quhilk ȝow may traist will nocht be lestand lang.
Suppois þow micht of þis warld þe lave
In thai seruice and in thai battale haue,
To thame of Pers ȝit micht þai be na pere;
Tharefore I rede þat þow draw the arere,
And to thai dame thow pas in þi cuntrie,
With barnis to play, and lat the were-fare be,
For men of Pers ma no mare nowmerit be
Na sternis in lift, nor sandis into the se.
Tharefore I send the here a playing ball,
And ane golf-staff to driff the ball withall,
As barnis dois in cieteis for to play,
And counsales the that þow pas hame þai way,
And sulk ane quhile apoun þai moderis kne,
Quhill bettir starkyn for the were þow be.
With that ane scurge to drive ane top also,
For barnis sayis it will the glader go;
A chaiplet als here I of gold þe send,
Like till ane myter, þat foly sould pretend,
In barnis plais or into desgysing—
It settis the bettir na counterfete ane king.
I send the ball for it betakynnys play,
Sa dois the staff þat wissis it þe way;
The scourge betakynnys chastiment to the,
That as ane barne þat þow mot chastyit be;
The myter als is takynnyng of folie
Thow hes done in þi barnehede wantonlye;
The gold betakynnys riches to habound,
For vnder the hevin þare is na richer ground,
And becaus þow art of ane pure cuntrie,
I gert it mak of gold to send to the.
Giff þow dois nocht my bidding haistalie,
I sall gar the be punyst creuely,
Nocht as a kingis sone of Massedone,
Bot as a prince of reiffaris and patrone.”

The message to King Alexander ar sent,
And schawin him þare epistill and present,
And he resavit all in gude patience,
For he was sobyr in wisdome and prudence;
Gart call his lordis and schaw þame the maner,
And gart the epistill be rede, þat thai micht here.
At quhilk thai had grete indignatioun
That he sould send in sic derisioun,
And sum begane to mak grete bost and vow;
Bot Alexander said, “Lordingis, move nocht ȝow—
This epistille pleisis mare to myne intent
Than ony vther that euer to me was sent.
Ȝe wat wele þat þe dog that barkis maist
Leist bitis, and grete langage spendis in waist;
Quhare mekill speich alsa, it may nocht be
Bot sum is soith and wordis sum fals wilbe;
And ȝe here oft þat voustouris and vantouris
Ar nocht the first to wyn þe grete honouris.
As of the gold, I traist wele soith he sayis,
Quhilk ws to feche mair hardy curage mais—
Grete wain wyn war foly and symplines,
To conquest landis quhare þare war na riches.”

The king gart tak the messingeris in haist,
And in ane dipe dungeoun he bad thame kest,
And on the morne, bot ony more delay,
That on ane gallous hingit hie war thai.
Bot thai excusand thame in thare defence,
Said, “We haue grete mervell of þai excellence,
Sa nobill ane king pure messingeris to sla.
Ane grete lak wald it vnto thyne honoure ma,
For messingeris ar fre message for to bere,
And frelie cum and gang in pece and were—
Giff þow slais ws in þai furoure and rage,
Thare will never man eftirwart bring ane message;
For all we bring ane soure message the to,
Sa will we fra þe till oure maister do—
Quhidder he be blyith or wraith we rak no thing,
Oure office is message to bere and bring.”
The king said, “Now ȝe speik me gude ressoun,
Bot sen of thevis he gevis me renovn,
I do my dett as theif ȝow for to sla;
Bot war I gude man, I sould lat ȝow ga.
Bot sen ȝe will my ansure bere agane,
Ȝe sall for me nowder thole dede nor pane.”
Than ditit he ane pistill into writt,
Off quhilk him-selff was devisare of it,
And Arestotill it wrate with his awne hand,
Off quhilk the tennoure is nixt followand.

“Alexander, King Philippis son þat was,
And son also to Quene Olimpias,
To Dare, quhilk callis him king of kingis all,
And lord of lordis þat hes bene, is, or sall,
Cosing to god, schynand as sonnys beme,
Quhilk oure all wther lordis gevis a leme,
Emprioure of quham all sould love and lout:
I haue mervell þat sic a man sould dout
Sa pure a man as Alexander þe ȝing,
Throw Godis grace a sely sempill king.
It is grete [lak] to erdlie man mortale
Him to assymyll to Hevin parpetuall,
To son or mone quhilk schynis oure þe lave,
And everie day raddoure of me till haue;
Quhilk for thai pride and thyne iniquite
I think richt sone to cum and speik with the,
For goddis has grantit me thy punyssing,
And ordand me in þai stede tobe king—
For all þai micht and all þai gret menȝe,
I sall cum anis and battale proffer the.
It is bot lak to thyne auctoretie
For till ourethraw sa pure a man as me;
And sen þow me ane theiff and revare callis,
To wyn ane theiff small honour the befallis,
And gif I wyn sa hie ane emprioure,
Than mycht I wyn riches, with grete honoure.
As to the nowmber of gold þow sayis þow has,
Mair curagious and hardy þow w[s] mais—
It war grete folie to ane pure sembill king
To conques landis quhare war na wynying,
Nor sege ane cietie quhare no gud is thairin,
Na fecht with men quhare no gude is to wyn;
Quharefore oure pouerte that thow sais we haue,
With grace of God þow sall supple þe laif.
And as belanging to thir similitudis
Thow hes me send, the quhilk baith fare and gude is,
As to the ball, þe O may liknyt be,
Quhilk is baith sound and round in all degrie,
Off quhilk thow sayis hale emprioure þow was,
And be the ball resignit to me thow has;
And of the crukit staff to cache þe ball,
That is the staff I mon the kepe withall,
And as it is crukit and bowand, sa sall þow
And all thai barnage vnto my bidding bow,
And as the ball it cachis to and fra,
Sa sall ȝe at my bidding cum and ga;
And as the scourge betakynnys chaistiment,
Sa ȝow to me alhale the iugment
Off the and vtheris quhare þow was lord and king
Thow hes resignit to me þare punyssing.
As to the mytir, quhilk fullis chaplet þow callis,
Sen land and lordschip grantit to me all is,
It may betakin þe crovne þow sendis to me,
Baith king and lord of þe and þine tobe;
And alsa, as the gold tribute pretendis,
Eftir the crovne þe tribute þow me sendis,
Off quhilk I thank the as the tane requiris—
Thow sall revardit be as [þe] efferis.
And gif þow sais þow sendis it in scornying,
That is displesand to the hiest King,
For God will ay that scornit be scornoure,
And to wertew and wisdome dois honoure,
And quha him pridis and glorifeis maist hie,
It is the will of God he lawit be.”
With that, grete gold he to the mess[age] gaif,
And thai blyithly the epistill couth ressaif,
And at the king þare levis þai haue tane,
And to the King Dare þair maister þai haue gane.
Than Alexander dislugit sone in haist,
And inwart towart Ierusalem is he past,
And on ane ryvare that callit is Gartitus
He lugit his ost, the story tellis ws thus.
And to the King Dare now will we turin agane,
To here of this ansure how he was fane.

Quhen Dare had hard the ansure of the king,
And quho that he amovit him no thing,
Bot sobirlie till all thing made ansurre,
And sperrit of all his governance and affere—
The message tauld him of his sobirnes,
And he in all thing wele temperit was,
And wise and wourthy in his governying,
And sett him wounder wele tobe a king.
With that King Dare rampit as a lioun
Quhan he thame herd gif him sa hie renovne,
And of the epistill ȝitt mare wod he was—
His ene sa brynt þat fyre flaw of his face.
And furth-with to the Prince of Anchioche
He sendis ane epistill power for to feche;
Bot or he come, the land was all ouregane,
And all the princis power slane or tane,
That him had mare mister to ask amend
Na of his partie power till him send,
For all was put in the obeysaunce
Of Alexander, and at his governance.
The epistille was in this maner maid
To send to Ancheoch he ordand had,
And syne delyuerit it to the messingere,
In maner and forme as is writtin here.

“Dare king of kingis, as we haue sad before,
With all the vant, voust and the vaneglore,
Till Anthioch, till princis and primatis,
Till satrapiȝ, counsallaris, and all estatis,
Greting as ganis, with grece of grete Mahovn,
We haue consauit be soith relatioun
Thatt Alexander, the sone of Macedone,
With vther thevis sic folie settis him on,
Quhilk in his pride and wantones sa wedis,
With grete powar of thevis with him ledis,
And in the landis of Asie, quhilkis haldis of ws,
With sic ane route of reiffaris riotus,
He plais þe larde and herreis al my landis.
Quharefore I wald that ȝe throw strenth of handis
Tuke him, and furthwith send him vnto me,
To punnys him as theif suld punnyst be,
Or ding him with ane wand and send him hame
To play amang the barnis with his dame,
Cled as ane fule in-till ane purpure cote,
For it semys nocht till sic ane knewech sote
To conterfete a kingis maiestie,
Bot as ane barne in tutele for to be;
And send him thus til Olimphyne the quene,
To play with vther barnis on the grene.”

Quhan this epistille resauit was and rede
Before the lordis, þai the message led,
And tuke to counsale quhat was best to say.
To write agane ane epistill ordanid þai,
Till Dare, quhilk was sum tyme þare maister dere,
Quhilk followis efter, and sayis on þis maner:

“Of Anthioche þe Prince Anthiothus
Till Dare all-weildand ansure sendis thus:
Plesis it to ȝoure mychty magnificence,
As langand Alexander and his offence,
Quhilk ȝe call theif, revare, and a child,
He fechtis as worthy prince in batal-feild,
And quhare he gais, he hes honour and glore,
And in cuntreis withgang and victor.
He hes ws put in sic subiectioun,
Oure princis slane, and waistit oure regioun,
And all ouresett, that few chapis him fra,
That thai mon vow and fewta til him ma,
Or ellis tobe distroȝed vtirly.
We mak this knawin to þai seynȝeorie,
And quhare thow ws commandis him to ta,
Suppois þow ware ane hundreth thousand ma,
Thow would haue mekill ado him till areist,
Him till ouresett sa money a man has preist,
And ay he hes grete fortoun and ourehand—
He has sic hap he conqueris all þe land.
We haue mare myster helpe at the to craif,
For helpe of ws as now þow may nane haue.
As to that thow callis him fule and theif,
He is haldin here for maist wourthy and cheif,
And all men dois him wourschip and honoure,
And haldis him wise, and man of grete valoure.
He has conquest þis cuntrie, toure and toun,
To Tyre and Gaderis, and castin þame baith doun,
And money vtheris citeis by the sey,
And settis him al halely to cum to the.
Quharefore gif thow will send him to fech[e],
Thow sall nocht nede to send to Anthioche,
For gif that it be socht I hard him say,
He thinkis to cum to Pers the narrest way.”

Quhen Alexander in this wise had conquest
The landis and the lordschippis of þe west
And of the south and of the north cuntrie,
Off Egipt, Tyre, and Sydome by the sey,
Off Ierusalem þan he him bethocht,
And farrare est in conquest wald he nocht
Quhill he of Ierusalem had obedience.
To quhom King Dare send letteris of defence,
Vnder all panis of dede and forefettoure,
That thai sould nocht mak to him vantoure,
Homage, entrie, or obeydiance,
Sen þai till him had aith of alliaunce.
Than Alexander send his ambassitouris
Till Ierusalem and to the senatouris,
To the bischope and to the lordis all,
And bad thame be avisit in generale,
And that þai sone sic ansure till him sent
That þame nocht nedit efterwart repent.
Than all the lordis and the senatouris,
The bischope, clergy, and the counsollouris,
Thai semblit all into ane parliament,
Till Alexander quhat ansure þai sould sent;
And in the counsale þai maid ordanyng
That all the pepill in pryar and fasting
Suld be in tempill evere contenwallie
Quhill thre dayis war passit vterly,
To God to send thame grace and wittering
Quhat best war to be done into þat thing.
Than in the nycht eftir the sacrafeice,
Quhan that the bischope doin had his office,
The God inmortale send him ane angell,
And ordanid him the senatouris to tell
How thai sould do, and into quhat maner,
Quhan þai saw Alexander approcheand nere;
To say the pepill that thai be nocht affrayit—
Off thare deuotioun he war wele appayed.
And bad him gar the pepill mak þame boun,
Cast vp thare ȝettis and wele armoure þare toun,
And cleith the pepill in syndone habit quhite,
The bischope and the preistis in þare habite:
“In quhite surplis gar all the pepill ga,
In cappis and abbus men of kirk alsua;
And þow bischope in þi pontificall,
In claithis of gold, with mytir and sindale;
And quhan ȝe se him cumand nere the toun,
Ȝe mete him all with hale processioun,
With reliquis bare, and with devine honouris,
With kirkmen, comownis, and with senatouris,
And with reuerance ressaue him hartfully.”

With that the bischope walkynnyt haistalie,
And talld the counsalaris and princis of þe toun
Alhale the forme of his avisioun,
Sayand, “I wate weill þis is Goddis will;”
And þai but mare accordit weill þaretill,
And ordand thame into thare best maner.
And quhan thai saw that he was cumand nere,
The bischope was in his pontificall,
The pepill in syndone quhite, baith gret and small;
The bischope had his mytir and his sindar,
And on the goldin myter wrettin war
In goldin letters that everie man mycht se,
In Ebrew langage of the selff cuntre,
The name of the gret God Tetragrammaton,
Quhilk Alexander quhan he luikit on
Had grete mervell þat sicht quhan he couth se;
And tocht before to haue segit the cietie,
And quhan he saw the men of kirk cum sua,
And all the pepill honoure till him to ma,
He wist it was ane gift of Goddis grace,
And lichtit doun furthwith into the place,
With heid vnheild, and grouf on kneis he fell,
For till his harte com neuer sic ane knell,
Sayand, “The name of God mot blissit be,
That þus into þis wardlit had wourschipit me.”
To the bischope he did grete reverence,
And he till him made his obediance,
Sa did the lordis and comons hartfuly,
And oppynnyt vp thare ȝettis halely.
He enterit in the toun with all his rout—
With that the pepill all cryeit with ane schout,
“Lestand [m]ot be of Alexander the regnne,
Quhome God hes send ws for to be our king!”
Than spak ane prince was callit Permanoun,
Sayand, “This thing is that I mervell on,
That þow suld schow sa grete humyletie
Till erdlie man sa mekill to law the,
Nor king nor prince in the wardlit sa wyde.”
The king ansurid, “Fare schir, latt be þai pride—
It was na erthlie man þat I here saw,
To quhom I lichtit doun and lowtit law,
To quham the name of hieast God I se,
Cumand with clergie forto honoure me;
It war ressoun that I schew Him meiknace,
That did to me sic wourschip and sic grace.”

Syne [fiftene] dayis he restit in the toun
In sacrefice and in devotioun,
And ordand thame lawis and gaif þame priuilegis,
With giftis grete, as oure storie allegis,
And to [him] the bischope said in this maner,
“I saw all this lang tyme or [ȝe] come here,
The quhilk in visioun was to me revelit,
Ane prophecy that I haue lang time helit,
Quhilk in his dayis writtin has Ieremye,
And haldin as his soithfast prophecy,
That tyme sould cum þat Grace and Macedone
Suld put all Pers in þare subiectioun;
Baith Asie and Europe and Affrik to the se,
To Paradise all conquest hale suld be.
Quharefore, schir king, we trest God ordand ȝow
To chaisty wikkit men that regnis now;
Tharefore, gif ȝe will that ȝoure fortoun stand,
Liff clene, kepe law, and hald ȝoure God in hand—
Thare may no gudlie thing but Him be done;
Quha luffis Him nocht, He will thame law full sone.”
Than askit þai sevin ȝere in fredome liff,
And that sic preuilege he wald to thame gif,
Till Yude, Galile, and Babilone,
In sic fredome as he helde Macedone.
He grantit all þare plesance and asking,
Till leve at eis, fredome, and liking,
And of the toun cheif gouerance he makis
Ane nobill knicht callit Andronyakis.
And thus with eis quhan he hed restit þare,
The narrest way he tuik towart King Dare,
And to the goddis made he sacrefice;
Syne of his weris ordand his devise,
And past with ost to Peirs the nerrest way,
For he hed hecht he wald nocht mak delay.
And as in hosting he was passand þus,
Sa come he to the wattir of Gartitus,
And past the ryver on the morne erlie.
The tything past to King Dare haistalie,
Quhilk till him send ane epistill in þis maner,
That efter cummis in wrett as ȝe may here:

“Dare, king of kingis and oure all emprioure,
And lord of all this warld, baith toun and toure,
Cosing to God, schynand as sonnys beme,
Quhilk with the goddis of Pers gevis lycht and leme,
Till Alexander, the litill provit theif,
Quhilk hes my landis put to all myscheif,
Slayand my men, my cieteis castand doun,
And puttis my landis to grete distructioun—
And I haue oft tymes epistillis writtin the till,
Of sic folyis to ceis, bot þow na will.
Thow suld weill knaw þat we tua ar na peris,
Na ȝitt the goddis made ws nevir feris,
For all this warld lovis þe name of Dare,
And wi[th] the goddis anornit is oure alquhare—
To the it war grette honoure and renovne
To hald of me the realme of Macedone,
Bot þow thinkis the ane grete prince of powaris,
To hald with the ane flok of fals reiffaris,
And pas oure montanis, riveris, and wallis,
Slayand and birnand, as men seis.
It war bettir my consalle that þow trowit—
And with thai moder suld be fare mare allowit—
To ceis or sum punytioun fal the to:
Thare nedis bot ane day the till vndo.
And ȝitt I counsale the to pas thai way,
And liff besyde þai moder as þow may,
Before that of my handis þow tak skaith—
And þow wald mend, to sla the me war laith.
Thow watte þat of all this erde I am syre,
And thow hes waistit Antioche and Tyre,
And mony vther landis þat langis me—
My counsale is my presence that thow fle.
Thow suld be blaith þat I sould me dedenȝe
To writte the epistillis vnder my ensenȝe,
Wittand sa grete ane emprioure am I
That all the warld obeyis my senȝeorie.
And als be figure þow may vnderstand
That þare is pepill but nowmer in my land,
Off chesboll seid ane sekful I the send,
Of quhilk the nommer hard is to be kend,
And as þe seid may nocht comptit be,
Richt sa may nocht þe pepill of þis cuntrie;
Alsua, sa þat þow witt the soith and veretie,
Quhat myndis of gold þare growis is þis cuntrie,
Of gold I send the here ane wther sek,
In passing hame þai costis for to mak.
And of þai folyeis done þow repent þe,
And schaip the neuer agane in this cuntre.”

Till Alexander ar cumynn the messingeris,
Quhilk with honoure resauit þame, as efferis;
And quhan the epistill red was, he gart schaw
The seid, and of it in his mouth couth chaw,
And fand it soft, and said, “Gif ȝoure men be
Sa soft and swete þat wonnyis in ȝoure cuntre,
Thay may be sone oure-cummyn in batall place—
Erast sall tyne quha monyast of þame has;
In gude array money men is fare off fere;
Few liounis will of schepe grete nowmer sker,
And eik the scheiphird may be stout and bald
That mony fatt scheip has in-till his fald;
As to mete þai ar gude quhare-euer he foundis,
Bot few wald gar þame fle of gud grewhoundis.
As langand the gold that he me sendis,
That is trewage quhilk to me he pretendis,
Suppois he send it nocht in þat entent.
He watt full litil quhat þat þir goddis ment,
For his fegoure schawis here to me
That of his menȝie lord hale I salbe;
And als the ball he send to me ane singe is
Of all this that he to me resignis,
Be sindrie thingis that he hes send to me,
Quhilkis takin ar þat I his lord salbe.”
And with that he tuke of piper in his neif,
And with his hand it to the messingeris geif,
And bad thame say that was of wertew mare
Na all the seid that in the sek he bare,
“And this gold that he hes send me here is,
I will [d]epart amange ȝow messingeris.”
And in a epistill wrete all this langage,
Amd send it hame agane with his message,
And bald him think nocht lang quhil he him saw,
For of his mannance stude he na thing aw.

Be that the epistill wrettin and ordand was,
Thare come lettiris fra Quene Olimphias,
That scho was seik and in perrill to de,
And prayeit the king haist him hame hir to se,
Quhilk come he nocht, he suld traist no remede—
Scho was sa seik þare was no dome bot dede.
Than was he wa, and changit his purpois—
Bettir his delay na his moder to lois—
Schupe him with all the haist þat euer he may
To Grece and Macedone the narrest way,
And bad the messingeris say to King Dare
That, all suppois he changit purpois þare,
He did it nocht for drede of him to fle,
Bot for to vesie his lady moder frie,
Quhilk was in bandis of seiknes lokit fast—
Bot gif he come, he dred scho suld nocht last—
Bad him be blayth and think nocht lang, for he
Within schort tyme tocht him agane to se,
“And that I pas nocht hir swete pappis to kis,
Bot for scho in a deidlie seiknes is,
To comforte hir, as sone suld for to do,
As gude nature and kynd drawis to.”
And in ane vther epistill wrate this that here is,
And send it to him with his messingeris.

Fra thyne the trumpeis blew, þe ost vp rais,
And in till Asie Mynor þe way he tais,
And conquest it in passand halely,
And oure all quhare he past had victory,
With mony ane place and money a grete citie,
That may nocht all be put in þis tretye,
Bot alanerlie þe grete battall and stouris [OMITTED]
Syne to the landis of Frygie and Pamphale,
With mony ane ciete and wallit toun worthy;
Syne till ane citie was callit Gordioun,
Quhilk now is callit Serdaignȝe, þai sett apoun;
Thay kest it doun and stroyit it at vterance.
Nere by þare was the tempill of þe Son,
And thare he gart sacrefice be done;
And efter that he come in-till ane place
Quhare the wise doctoure Omere erdit was,
And þare spak with ane philosophoure,
Quhilk Diomede was callit, of gret honoure,
Apoun ane revere quhilk Scamandrus is cald.
Thare herbryit he and all his bernis bald;
Than Alexander commendit Omere sa,
And till him Diomede grete tent couth ta,
Said, “Alexander, þow sould be blayth and glaid—
Thow hade mare los þan euer Omere had.”
Than Alexander said, “Schir, sauf ȝoure honoure,
Wisdome is bettir na fortoun of victor[ure]—
I had levare be als wise as Omere was
Na strenth of baith Hectoure and Hercules.”
Than was he cumyin nere to his cuntrie,
Bot litill mare he had na ane iournee;
He logit his ost endlang þe ryvare doun,
And till his moder past to Macedone.
Quhan scho hard Alexander was cumand nere,
Than satt scho vp, said scho was hale and fere.

Bott lord! quhat ioy was made into þat place
Quhan Alexander in hele þare cummyn was,
And als the quene was helit of hir seiknes—
Thare was no tocht of na thing bot of blythnes.
Quhan he had playit him with his modere dere,
As him best tocht, and maid him richt gud chere,
Than he removit his oist, and tuke the way
Towart Thebes, and on ane ryver lay.
And send to thame of Thebes ane messingere,
Quhilk of þare ansure efter ȝe may here,
And askit thame þat þai wald till him send
Fifty knichtis in oist with him to wend,
On thare wagis buskit and armit wele.
And thai togidder passit to counsale,
And closit þare portis, and wald nane ansure gif,
Quhareat King Alexander can him sum thing greif.
Than Alexander has gart his oist remufe,
And by þe toun hes lugit him nere abufe;
And quhan þai saw the kingis oist cumand,
Apoun thare walle fyffe thousand men ordand,
And to the king thai said, be Goddis pyne,
Thai sould with him fecht bot he past fra thyne.
And he smylit, and said he had nocht sene
Bott few mychtie men þat of þare feris bene,
To stand of fer and say that þat vauld fecht,
And hald þare portis clois baith day and nicht;
“Ȝe think ȝow stark quhan ȝe ar all þarein,
And for ȝoure wallis wenys nane will ȝow wyn;
Bot treulie, I sall nocht pas fra þis toun
Quhill ȝe be dede and all ȝoure wallis [dung doun],
Bot gif ȝe ȝeild þe toun with ȝoure gud will.”
With that ane menȝie gart he ga þame till,
To gif ane salt, sayand thai war bot churlis,
And the harnes to the wallis hurlis;
And sum with mattokis began for to myne,
Sum schott with gunnys, and sum with ingyne,
Sum vther with coluerynnis and with crapaldynis,
And wther sum was fechtand in þe mynys,
And sum maid fyre als hie as all the wallis,
And þis the toun segit about at all is;
Sum kest with gynis dede hors in the cietie,
Sum small stanis, þat nane fra þame micht fle,
Sum with slingis, and sum with crawykynnis,
With vtheris mony maneris of ingynis,
With sum fire-arrowis, with stanis of irne rede-hate,
Schote out of gunnys to birne quhare-ever þai bate;
Sum sett to sowis for to saue þe mynouris,
Sum with bumbardis straik doun the hiest touris,
And or the greis of þare assalt wald stent,
Bot portis and port-culys, all was brynt,
And mony of þe Grekis in þe toun.
With that the bourgath oure þe wallis lap doun—
Sum brak þare leggis, sum banis, and sum armys,
Sum bowellis breist, with money vther harmys;
And in this maner takin was þe toun,
Destroyeit and brint, and wallis cassin doun.

Than Alexander passit to ane vther place
Was next þareby, callit Corintheus,
And till ane citie callit was Platea,
In tempill of Diane sacrefice to ma;
That þare was ane nun, callit a woman preist,
Was in recluse, and vp the portis kest,
Said, “Alexander, þow art welcum, watte I wele,
For be[þe] goddis I haue had sic ane fele
That of this warld þow salbe lord and schyre,
All halely bowand to thyne empire.”
Thare maid he [h]is deuotioun in þat place,
And to the tempill gaif giftis and riches.
Thare was ane prince was callit Transagoras,
Till Alexander na thing weill-willand was—
Quhan he hard that the nvn him sa had tald,
He said hir fleiching suld be dere asauld,
And that scho suld repent of þat thing,
Quhen nocht suld helpe hir Alexander the king;
And to the tempill he come, and prayer made,
And sperit of his fortoun and princehede;
And scho ansurit and said him suthfastlie
Till all the goddis war purposit halely
Him to depone, and mak ane vther king.
Than Alexander, quhilk haistyit him na thing,
Sa he wauld be to him obedient,
And offerit him till his commandiment,
Send eftir him till mak obedience;
Bot he wauld nocht, bot schupe to mak defence.
Than Alexander sett him þe toun to ta,
And maid no lang delay quhill he did sa,
And put him out, and bannist him the land—
It fell him fare he chapit fra his hand—
And left keparis into Coryntheas,
Ane nobill ciete into þai tymes was.
All þus Transagoras with his menȝie
Fled till Athenis, þat nobill citie,
Off quham he held, and to thame was sugget.
Thay welcummyt him, and in þare toun secrete,
And in Athenis he gart lordis spak
Of Alexander, and put him ay to lak;
Off quhilk the king was richt hielie displesit,
And till Athenis all the cuntrie sesit;
And syne to thame he send his messingeris,
And fare and curtesly he thame requiris
Off helpe, fauoure, conforte, and counsale,
And he sould kepe þare landis fra tinsalle.
With that ane epistill suetely to þame sendis,
And his wourschip gudely to þame commendis.
Thai war displesit for Transagoras,
Quhilk gart þat toun þat it more favorit was;

Off quhilk pistill the tennoure followis here,
As I couth fi[nd] dytit in þis maner:
“Alexander, King Philippis sonn þat was,
And sone alsa to Quene Olympias,
Till Athenis the maist worthy cietie,
And to the pepill sendis greting he,
And the princis, lordis, and senatouris,
With encressing of wourschip and honouris,
And to the clerkis his faderis ware of lare,
For he lang tyme at scholis had bene þare:
Witt ȝe that sen my fader was deceissit,
Gude men to pleis at my powar I preissit,
And weikkit men and ill sett to chaisty—
The goddis þus me chargit has, treuly—
Quhilkis wrangwus trewagis of þe pepill takis,
And takis of þame, and na gude causis makis,
Na kepis thame nocht in law, na heris þame,
Bot haldis at vnder for lak and schame;
And for to kepe iustice and equitie,
Gar law with laute regne with honestie,
And till a king gar obey all the law;
For mony kingis ar nocht spedeful to haue,
For sindrie princis drawis a severale part,
And thare opiniownis ar nocht ay towart,
Quhilkis haldis the landis in devisioun,
And putis realmes in dissentioun.
And quhan a king obeyit is halely,
Than na man wrang vther throw maistry—
For þis is Goddis will in maiestie,
Quhilkis governis all þis warldit in vnetie.
And I haue bene into þe west cuntrie,
And sum part in the south and north part[ie],
And in the est cuntrie now mon I draw,
To punnys thame þat kepis nocht the law.
Quharefore I pray ȝow to send me of ȝouris,
Off floure of clergy and of philosophouris,
Ten or tu[e]lffe the wortheist that ȝe haue,
Quhilkis maist of wisdome ar oure all the laif,
To led my counsale and my governance,
That I pas nocht my goddis ordinance.
Giff ȝe do nocht, the perrell be on ȝow,
For but wise men, folis may na perrell chew—
Giff ȝe will nocht helpe me with ȝoure counsale,
It is nocht lyke ȝe wald þat I did wele,
Quhilk gif ȝe do, traist na gude in me;
Bot and I may be master of ȝoure cietie,
Till all my goddis here ane wow I mak
That I sall of ȝow sic ane vengeans tak
That all vtheris sall by ȝow exempill ta
In tyme to cum, sic ansure for to ma.
Ȝe watte to thame þat to me bowar war
I haue done gude, and punnyist vtheris sare—
Tak tent to Thebes, and to vtheris ma,
The quhilk ȝe watt wele I haue punnyist sare,
That thai forthink þat euer þai maid debate.
Now beis wer, sen of my will ȝe wate,
And dois nocht þat eftir farthink ȝe may,
For traistis wele I sall neuer pas away
Quhill I haue entre and obedience.
Giff ȝe do nocht, schape ȝow to mak defence.”

The toun was grete, and stude fer in þe strand,
And dominatioun had of all þe land;
It had ane havin, the best of þat cuntrie,
And governit all the havynnis of þe Grete Se—
The farrest ciete þat euer ȝitt was foundit
In Grece, and in the tyme of Moyses groundit.
Thare was first schawin the lawis of Moyses,
To teicht out of the tabill copyit was,
And first was teichit þare, and syne in Rome,
Fra thyne till all the landis in Christindome.
Thare was the floure of science and clergy,
And first was foundit þare astronomy,
And all the subtell science of nature,
That gudlie war for mannis creature.
The flote that made the grete distructioun
Off mekill Troy, þai passit fra þe toun;
Than of Grece it was the floure, but pere,
Or Constantyne was foundit money a ȝere,
Throw quhilk the toun of Troy distroyet was.
Than Alexander with all his hale power
Gart rais his oist to put the sege þare.

Into the ciete was Transagoras,
Quhilk of þe toun and of the citie was;
Ane vthir doctoure callit Demonstynes,
Quhilk maist part of the counsale had aches,
Before tyme had ane vther clark gart de,
Quhilk Alexander louit in speciale.
And quhan the epistill red was þame beforne,
Thay tuk to be awyseit quhill the morne.
Thay twa for dispyte to thame maid defence
That thai suld mak him nane obedience,
Bot all the tounscheip wist þare causis wele,
And wald no credence gif to þare counsale;
Bot Arestotill þai callit, and Eschales,
Quhilk senatouris and of the counsale was.
Thay said, “Lordingis, þare is no chois bot twa—
To fecht with him, or fewta till him ma.
Ȝe here how he [h]as done in vther landis—
He bertynnys all þat bowis nocht till his handis.
And gif ȝe think maisteris of him to be,
Schape to defend and fecht for ȝoure ciete—
He hes fochtin [fiftene] battellis now, or ma,
And neuer ane is gane aganis him of thai—
Ȝe ken the placis wele, and all þare nameȝ.
Wise ar thai that wther mennis faltis blameȝ,
Bot ȝe ar crabit for Transsagoras,
The quhilk for his defalt outlawit was;
And als ȝe watt quho that Demostynnis
To thame of Pers euer-mare consoundand was;
And syne ȝe watt þat for affectioun
And for dispete, and settis þame nocht on ressoun.
Me think it is foly to ȝow to do
That preiudice eftir mycht turne ȝow to.
Quha hard euer ane prince sa halely
Quhare-euer he gais haue ourhand and maistry,
And dois ay gude quhare he hes obeysance,
And kepis þame fra all distrublance
Off proude men and vitious þat þame noyis;
And syne ȝe se that na man he distroyeis
Bot in þare falt, and als vnderstand
That he tuke nocht sic governance in hand
Bot throw þe ordinance of goddis all.
Tharefore beis wer þat ȝe get nocht ane fall,
As vtheris he[s] done, and may for wordis fare
And litill of ȝouris hafe his lufe and repare;
And it may fall, fra he pas fra þis ciete
In tyme to cum ȝe sal him neuer eft se.”
And at the counsale of thir wise men twa
Thai haue ordand ane ambassace to ga
Till Alexander, and a fare goldin crovne
With [precius] stanis þai send him fra þe toun,
With that ane mychtie sovme of gold, and grete,
Bot þai vauld nocht to him opin þare ȝett.
And nocht forþi þe gold and crowne he tuke,
Bot for þe entrie and clarkis þai him forsuke,
He was sa wraith þat grete wowis he made,
Thay sould forthink that forsakin him [þai] had,
And that he sould in all haist cum þame till
And his desyre haue all agane þare will;
And þus furthwith the sege he to þame brocht,
Bot þai leit of him [as] þai no thing rought.
Bot nocht forþi þai past in counselling
Quhat best war tobe done apoun þat thing,
And thame tocht best for till avisit be
With Arestotill, ane lord of þat ciete,
Quhilk was with him, and cheif of his counsale,
And syne thai suld him send þare responsale.

Into the toun ane grete he pillare þai had,
Quhilk ane wise clark was callit Platon made—
Ane hundreth cubeitis it was or mare on hicht,
And in ane rufe aboue ane lanterne bricht,
Quhilk kest sic licht þat baith be nycht and day,
Baith in the toun and als without, þai may
Ten myll about se all thing þat was done,
Als wele a[t] myrk of myd-nicht as at none,
Na þare micht nouthir schip nor galay pas
Within ane sale kennyng towart þare place,
Bot þai wald sone with galais apoun ga,
Till haue witing quhidder þai war freynd or fa.

Than Arestotill, quhilk was ane senatoure,
And of þe toun alsa ane counselloure,
Unto the counsale furthwith to witt þare will.
His awne freyndis maid gret request þaretill
That he wald helpe to trete for þare fredome,
Sen he was haldin ane floure of þare wisdome;
Bot Arestotill quhilk laith was þame deny,
And wist the kingis will all halely,
Bot swetely said þat he sould do his best,
For gudelie luffe and his freyndis request,
And to the oist he went but mare abaid.
The king him saw, and till him-selvin said,
And als before þe douȝeperis vowis makis,
(He dred he wald ask sum thing for þare sakis)
“That quhateuer thing my maister askis me
Langand þis toun, it nocht grantit be,
And all the contrare of his counsale do,
Quhateuer counsale þat he gif me to.”
Bot Arestotill, quhan he come nere the king,
Off his wow and hecht had no witting,
And tocht nocht for to speik of þat matere
Quhill he sould get the king at mare laysere.
Sa past þai than in talkin to and fra,
The douȝeperis with the king, and wther ma;
Than Tholome with Arestotill had talk
Within the ost, in playing quhare þai walk,
Tald him quho the king had made ane wow,
And bauld that he suld ask him nocht as now.
Bot Arestotill, that euer was war and wise,
Thocht he vauld find ane witt throw his polis,
And tuke his austrolabe and his quadrant
At evin, and lukit vp in the firmament,
And maid him for to speik of na trety;
Off quhilk the king had marvell gretumlie,
And him beheld, and come and stude him nere,
And till him said, “Maister, quhat seis þow here?
Quhat sayis ȝon proude carllis of þe toun?
Quhidder will þai peis, or we sall sla all doun?”

Than Arestotill sayis, “Certis, schir, þai nyll
Giff ȝow ȝon toun—þarefore do fort þi will;
That garris me luke quhen tyme war to assalȝe,
For þai will neuer be conquest but battailȝe.”
Bot neuerþeles þis was nocht his intent,
Bot for to put the king in argument,
That vnder þat he micht sum vardit say,
Quhilk fra the toun mycht wryith his will away,
To se to fynd him subtelle or [s]licht,
To saue his native fryndis gif he micht,
For he wist wele the king was sett in yre,
And but mercy to cry all blude and fyre.
Than said the king, “Fare maister, I þe pray
Quhan tyme war till asselȝie þow me say.”

Than Arestotill ansurid into þat stede,
Sayand, “Dere sone, vnder þe pane of dede,
And þow will do my counsale of a thing,
At my request to-morne in þe mornying
Than gar assembell all thing þat may birin,
And in all haist gar cast it ȝone dykis within,
With sulphur, ter, fyre, oly, powder, and gvn,
Syne gif ȝe assalt, thole þame nother [---] ne won—
Thay ar my fryndis, but turne þat I no can.
Tharfore I red ȝow saif nother wiffe nor man,
And blude and fyre þow cry to þine ensenȝe,
And all þare gude dail hale amange þi menȝe.”
With that the king in-till his skyn he trawis
He [n]as nere half sa craibbit in his da[w]is,
For had he traistit þat Arestotill wald
Haue gevin sa derf ane counsale, and sa bald,
For mekill gold he tocht nocht till haue made
That sely vow þat vowit he had;
And ȝitt his hart gaif Arestotill a los
Becaus his counsale come to his purpos,
Bot sen he had avowit he sould nocht do
Na thing þat his maister him counsellit to,
Before the douȝeperis he micht nocht cum agane,
Quharefore his hert was into mekill pane.
And schupe to mak of nede vertew forþai,
Said, “Arestotill, fare maister, grant mercy,
Bot sen the tyme þat I ane scolare was
In þis ciete, I will þame grant mare grace;
And als, for caus þat of it borne war ȝe,
That sum request for it ȝe sould mak me,
I made ane vow þat I sould do na thing
That ȝe requirit, na gaif me counselling,
For þai maister to save ȝour honouris all.
Ȝe sall the gretest of þe ciete call,
And throw ȝoure witt, visdome and subtelte,
Gar thame sum gude accordance mak with me,
Quhilk will ane conforte to my pepill gif,
And þai in pece may in þare cite liff.”

Thus Arestotill is past into þe toun,
And to þame gaif his counsale in commoun,
Sayand, “This man is fortunate, as ȝe se,
And bot he haue of ȝow soueranite,
He will ȝoure toun destroy, baith man and wife,
And in ȝoure cuntrie leiff na thing on liffe.
He made his vow fra thyne he sall neuer g[a]ne
Quhill be left stane standand apoun st[a]ne.”
He leit þame nocht wit of the kingis vow,
Bot all the countrare of it gart þame throw,
Quhill þat for raddoure þai consentit hale
Till Arestotill to wirk with his counsale.
Than Arestotill gart sembill in ane place
The maist excellant clerkis þat was,
And he schew þame the very dociment
Of conns[t]ellatioun of the firmament,
And be the cours of his nateuitie
That of þis warld lord anis sall he be,
And he was enterit in his conquesting,
In his flouris, and newlie crovnit king,
And erar wald thole dede na gane abak,
Or of his honoure haif reprufe or lak,
“And thus with farenes ȝe may him content;
Quharefore I rede þat ȝe will hale connsent
Send for him and ressaue him in ȝoure toun,
And gar assembill clerkis and commoun,
And say that ȝe will with him liff and de,
Ane him obey, and at his bidding be.”

And þis was done, and every party payit,
And all distructioun of þe toun delayit.
Thai brocht him in þe toun with grete honoure,
And him obeyit as king and emprioure;
And he agane grete giftis to þame gevis,
Aganis all men to kepe quhill he liffis.
Thus Arestotill kepit his natiue toun,
And savit his fryndis fra distructioun,
Kepit his aith, and held him fra reprufe,
And had his maistaris favouris and his lufe.

Quhen he had restit þare and made gud end,
Till ane grete ciete messingeris he send,
The quhilk is callit Lacedemonia,
And all his ost gart rise and thiddir ga,
For þai spak ill of þe nobill ciete
Of Athenis, quhare cummyn fra was he,
And said þai war bot cowartis and na worth.
Thare toun was stark ynouch to hald him furth,
And gif it fell þat he come to þare toun,
Thai sould schaw ane vther provisioun,
For þai had euer ane maner be þe sey
Off men of were, quhilk kepit þe ciete.
Bot Alexander amovit nocht þarefore,
For he knew wele þare fantasie before,
For commonlie toun-men will blaw gret boist,
Bot þai ar sone irkit to bide in ost.
Than Alexander epistill to þame sendis,
Lattand þame witt þat till him will it kend is
How of before þai till his elderis had
Favoure and luffe, and to þame fewta maid—
For it woinit to hald of thame of Grece,
Before that Jason wan the goldin fleis—
And thame requirit to think on auld kyndnes,
Giff þai wald liff with him in tendernes.
And thai agane ansured vncunnandly,
Bad him traist nocht þai war sa vnworthy
That as Athenes þai wald ȝeild but straik,
Bot defence for þare honoure wald þai mak.
With þat into þare schippis sone þai go,
And on the wallis armit þame also,
Closit þare portis and schupe þame to defence.
Bot Alexander, quhilk saw þare necligence,
Sone till Athenes bakwart sendis he,
And of rowbargis brocht ane grete menȝe,
And suddantlie þai sett þare schippis in fyre.
Syne to assalt þai past in birnand ire,
And brynt the portis, and mynyt the wallis doun;
With þat the folk þat saw þis in the toun,
Thay war sa ferd that þai com furth in hy,
Till Alexander on kneis cryand mercy,
To saue þare toun, and haue of þame piete—
Thai wald be his, and with him liff and de,
And hald of him, and forefalt neuer mare,
For it þai did, þi did for dred of Dare,
Or he suld witt but strake þat þai suld ȝeild.
Than Alexander, þat was all clerkis beild,
Becaus þai war ane vniuersetie
In-to the toun, þe mare curtes was he—
He did þame grace, and tuke of þame homage:
Grete sowmes of gold þai gaif þame in trewage.
He enterit in þe toun and made devise,
And in the tempellis gart mak sacrefice,
Syne tuke his leif, and with his ost is gane
Till ane grete ciete quhilk callit is Abdriane.

Than Alexander to Peirs past his way;
Before the ciete of Abdriane he lay,
And send to thame, and askit þame entre,
Bot na responsale of þame gettis he—
Thai closit þare portis, and to thare wallis pas,
And lukis oure þare wall as þai war as,
And nother wald þai speik nor mak ansure,
Na mak defence, as þai war men of were.
Quharefore the king wald nocht thole gynis wend,
Na make na were, bot giffyn þai thame defend;
Quhill at the last he saw na beitt wald be—
To salt the toun in haist þan biddis he.
And alsa fast as it assalȝeit was,
Thai oppynnit, and askit þe kingis grace;
And he sperit quhy [þai] closit þare portis sua,
Bot gif þai wald mak were as to þare fa.
And þai ansurid, sayand þare maner was
Till all maner strangeris clois þare place,
Till þat þai wist quhidder frynd or fa þai war—
Sic bidding had þai of þare maister, King Dare—
Bot, sen all men maid him obedience,
Aganis his mycht þai wald mak na defence;
And thus þai ȝeildit him þe nobill toun,
And he tuke þame in his protectioun.

Syne rais þare ost, and past [inwart at anis]
Quhill þat þai come to the ryver of Senis,
Quhare þat þai come to a fare ciete and a grete,
Quhare þai had grete distres and falt of mete,
The quhilk ciete was callit Cattirpala,
And till ane vther, callit Olerint, alsua,
Quhilk wele obeyit him for his grete renovn,
And did him grete honoure within þare toun.
Syne come he till ane ciete was callit Locrus,
Ane mychty ciete, full and plenteous,
And thare he baid refreschand his cumpaney,
Quhill [eight] or [nyne] dayis war passit by.
And in the mentyme nevys com to Dare
That Alexander with ost was cumand þare,
And in his hart it gaif ane ill feill,
And doutit him his realme stude na thing wele,
And semblit all his grete counsale him to,
To tak avise quhat best war to do,
Sayand, “Me semyis that this wikkit man,
Quhilk I wene neuer of were na wourschip can—
Behald him as ane theif and his menȝe—
And now he cummis to grete autoretie:
He wynnys battallis on force, and segis townis,
And conquestis cieteis, realmes, and regiounis;
And we wyn of him maister for till haue,
And he is lyik to maistry all the laif—
He has wonnyng sic honoure and renoun,
And put oure landis to sic confusioun.
I traistit of him for till [haid ourehand],
And he like is to chace me of þe land.
I send him barnys playokis, as til ane child,
And now he fechtis and wynnys in evere feild.
He is lyik till ourethraw all this cuntrie—
Quhare-ever he gais, followis him prosperetie.
Quharefore me think þat speidfull is that I
No mare into þis warld me glorefy,
Bot think quho I may liffe and honoure saif,
Se for my-selff quhill I sum fryndis haif.
I se his honoure growand, and his mycht,
And myne honoure gois bakwart, day and nycht;
I dred oure goddis be in his furthering,
And oure ws all will haue him lord and king.
Men sais he is baith wicht, hardy, and wise,
And I haue oft tymes sett him at dispite,
With letteris and epistillis of evill langage,
Becaus of him þan þat I had na knawlege.”

Than said a knicht was callit Ocherfere,
The quhilk to Dare was germane brodere dere—
To be crabbit him tocht he caus had,
For he of Alexander oure mekill made,
And gaif him oure grete los of wourthynes,
And, as him tocht, sum part causles—
And gaif his broder ane grete retacheing,
For reuse he maid of Alexander the king.
Than spak ane vther prince, said, “He sais wele,
For Alexander be him-selff dois every dele,
And wiselie, but counsale, disponis alhale,
And with his awne mouth tellis all þis tale—
He biddis no man ga for him to fecht,
For he is formaist ay with all his mycht.”
Ane vther prince of Daris cumpaney
Said, “Alexander disponis all vertwisly,
And ay for him pretendis ressoun and iustice—
Thus is it lyik he war baith war and wise.
He dois na vrang to gud and wourthy men:
Ilkane luffis him fra tyme þat þai him ken.”
Than Dare beheld and hard þis argument,
And wounder sare gaif him in his entent,
For he was hatit mekill with his menȝe,
And dred him sare betresit he sould be;
And þan said Dare, “Þow spekis of gret wertew:
How may þow ken all þis bot þow him knew?”
The knicht ansurid, “I had of him knawlege
In Macedone, quhen I went for trewage,
Quhan he to me and to my feris said
The guse was [k]eild þe goldin eggis laid.
I mycht nocht say of him oure gret renowne:
He [h]as baith strenth and curage of lioun;
With that he is baith swete and debonare,
Full of fredome, wourthy and wise in were.”
Quhan Dare þis hard, his hart was wounder wa,
Seand þat his awne men rusit him sa,
For of before, fra Gadderis and fra Tyre,
Sa money men partit fra his empire
That he doutit the king þat him befell,
For of before he had hard clerkis tell
That all the goddis war of ane accorde
That ane sould cum quhilk oure all sould be lord.

Than Alexander assemblit his menȝe,
And tocht nocht spedefull oure money for to be,
And of his fut-men [thretty thousand] chesit out
Off chosen men, and knett all in a rout—
Thai war sa bodin and sa wourthy war þai
To fecht agane ane millioun for a day;
And of horsmen he had fifty thousand,
Quhilkis war baith wise and hardy men of hand,
For litill is to men to be hardy
Bot þai haue witt to governe vertewisly,
For few gud men with wise provi[s]ioun
Grete multitude will put to confusioun;
And with his navyn he had on the se,
Followand the ost about, quhare-euer it be,
Foure thousandis schippis and of hunderis five,
With gonnys, armouris, wappnnis, swerd, and knyfe,
And vther graith for mynis and leddering,
And gold and siluer to mak his purvaying;
And quhan him lest to confort his menȝe,
Tua hundreth thousand þairin reddy had he.
Than nere ane gret ryver lugit he was,
The quhilk to name was callit Eufrates.

Quhan that he had past throw Gret Armenȝe,
He had grete chere, and did na velaynye
Quhareto suld men mak grete langage or fere,
Quhare þare was nother battalle, assalt, na were.
He restit þare with ioy, solace, and play,
Syne him confortit, and his fallowis alsa.
On that ryver quhan he was lugeand thus
He made ane brig, was huge and mervelus—
The ryver was baith depe and stiff rynnand,
That na man mycht pas oure it with strang hand,
Bot it [war] throw the dangere of King Dare.
Tharefore King Alexander attoure þat watter þare
A brig he maid, with gret provisioun,
Apoun schippis þe maistis liand doun,
And euerilkane till vther chenȝitt fast
With irne chenȝeis, and with rapis of bast;
The chenȝis maid of irne and of bras,
And till grovand akis festynnyt was,
With wyndas tetit attoure þe gret ryver;
Fra schip to schip syne sparis couplit wer,
And oure þai sparris plankis and flakis syne;
Syne sand and plaister tuke out of a myne,
With small stanis, and causat it all oure,
That all the ost passit in dayis foure.
And quhen the ost was past, fra end to end,
Thai brak þe brig, and doun the river send—
The river was sa gret þair mycht nane fle,
Bot owther þame behuffit to do or de.
Than Alexander said, “Þarefore I it did,
And to ȝow lordis all I mak it kid,
I sall neuer pas agane to Macedone
Quhill I haue put in my subiectioun
Thir Indis all, with Pers and Tartary,
And all that beris the name of Barbary;
That none suld fle, the brig brokin haue I,
For fleand men wynnys na wictorie,
And quhan þai waitt nane wther is remed,
Than will þai bide, and fecht vnto the dede.”

Sa was ane lord callit Nestades,
The quhilk ane of King Dare princis was,
And wrette to Dare ane epistill, as ȝe may here,
Quhilk efterwart followis, in þis maner:
“Nostadis, prince of Metendat ciete[e],
To Dare, the king of kingis in maiestie,
Lord of all lordis, and maist dred emprioure:
Requiris ȝow, for ȝoure wourschip and walloure,
To be sa bald þat to ȝoure excellence
Ȝe wauld of grace excuse my necligence
To writte þis epistill I durst tak on hand,
Bot of ȝoure hienes ȝe wald wnderstand
That Alexander, the quhilk þat ȝe dispise,
And lichtlyis in ȝoure writtes in money wise,
Has all distroyed and hereit oure cuntrie,
And ȝoure lordis the wourtheist gart de,
And money presonaris away has [led]—
Sum turnis to, and wther sum is fled;
And [---] all oure land and made it bare,
That to ȝour nede na helpe may ȝe get þare,
For all the worthiest of ȝoure menȝe
Air turnit to him, and maid him fewte;
Quhilk, for the wourschip and the gret walloure,
Off his largis he dois þame sic honouris,
And gevis þame landis, wourschippis, and riches,
And hardie pure men puttis out of distres,
That his renovne of fredome and gentrice—
And with þat is baith hardy, war, and wise—
Has turnit ȝoure men þe hartis till him all,
Quhare[fore] I dred þat ȝe draw nere ȝoure fall.
Ȝe held ȝoure men with hardnes and labouris,
And in þare mister maid þame na rescours:
Now is ȝoure ciete brynt of Medredate,
Ȝoure landis tynt, and mynist ȝoure estate;
And all for sparing to gadder gret tressoure,
Ȝe tyne ȝoure land, ȝoure men, and ȝoure honoure.”

Quhan the epistill was red, þan Dare was wod,
And rampit as ane lioun quhare he stude,
And for dispite his hart within him threw,
Bot tyme was gane— þan was oure late to rew;
And send oure all, and mandit his power,
Off all his land to sembill to him þare.

And in the menetyme come þare to þe king
Ane prince of Daris, a lord of grete living,
Sayand, “Lord, wald ȝe to my counsale traist,
Mak of ȝoure men ten thousand furth in haist,
With sum ane of ȝoure lordis in leding,
In hope of ȝoure rewarde and furthering,
And be the thrid day cum in the mornying,
I sall bring to ȝoure pallas Dare the king,
And of his princis the best and worthiest.”
With þat his eye the king couth till him cast,
With grete dispite and indignatioun,
Said, “Frynd, I had neuer favoure to tressoun—
Quhat los or honoure suld it be to me
Gif I ane feir in tresoun war to the?
Than war I foule as ȝow throw my consent,
And wourthy to be dempt throw iugment.
For þai rewarde to bring þis king to me,
Ane small penny I wald nocht gif to þe;
And here þi leif I gif the all vnsocht,
For of þi seruice to me bid I nocht—
Sen þow thyne auld maister wauld dissave,
It war nocht lyik þow war traist to þe lave;
Bot and þow will send him ane diffyrance,
And warne him þat he se for his defence,
Ane fifty thousand I sall send with the,
Into thy helpe aganis him for to be,
For I herd neuer tell of na conquest
Throw tressoun maid, þat langsumly mycht lest.”
Thus gaif he him his leif, with grete reprufe,
And of his maistaris baith he lesit the lufe.

Syne here-attoure King Dare ane lettir send
Till Alexander, and till him maid it kend,
With all the poyntis of pride and wane-glore,
As we haue said in epistillis of before,
Till Alexander, his man and his seruand,
Quhilk tribute sould him pay of all his land:
“Thow hes writtin till oure excellance
That þow thinkis to cum to oure presence,
And in þe land of Peris, with power and with pride.
The name of Dare oure all the warldit sa wide
With all the goddis of Peris anornit was,
And glorefeit as god in everie place;
And gif ȝow has sic power as ȝow may
But my consent, wtheir be nycht or day,
Cum into Peris with powar and with mycht,
With my powar in battalȝe for to ficht,
It war to trow that all þe goddis Persanis
War with the Grekis and with the Egipcianis,
And all the goddis of þe est war turnit west—
Gif þat war socht, þan war my lordschip l[e]st.
And als I am warnit þat þow hes done
To my seruandis sa grete gude at þare bone,
And gevin to sum kinrikis and sum princehedis,
And sum chiftanis and mychtie lordis maid is,
Off quhilk I thank the nocht, bot as for me,
I dred þow gar þame hang on gallow tre.”

Quhen Alexander þis epistill had gert red,
And to the poyntis of it tuke gud hede,
Ane vther epistill sone to his aduersare
He gaif vnto the messingere to baire,
Off quhilk the tennoure followis efterwart,
In effect as here cummyis in sum parte:
“Alexander, King Philippis son that was,
And son also to Quene Olympias,
Till Dare, quhilk callis him oure all king of kingis,
Baith emprioure and lord of money thingis,
Cosing to God, and as þe son schynand,
Quhilk all þe wardlit obeyis vnto his wand:
It is grete lak to erdlie men mortale
Him to compare to God perpetuall,
To son or mone, or ȝitt vnto þe sternes,
Na to planettis, that all þis warld governis—
Thay foly and þai pride askis ane fall,
And þai vane-glore displesis þe goddis all,
For goddis luffis na pride, bost, nor vane-glore,
For all gud grece meiknes mon ga before;
And as to þai goddis þow sais levis þai land,
I traist the caus is first in þe movand,
For the los þow beris, and the name—
Thay left nocht þe quhill first þow levis þame.
And langand gude I do to þai menȝe,
Traist nocht I do it for þe lufe of þe,
Bot for to schaw to þe and wther ma,
To wourthy men to quyte þi kyndnes sua,
That to þi lordis and seruandis to be kend,
And in þi falt tyne nevir sa litill ane frynd;
For falt of cunnandis keping and kyndnes,
Pride, with vane-glore, wrang wyn and wrachitnes,
Gerris men leif lordis, and preisis þame to ga
Till preif wtheris, þat bettir caus will ma;
And als as to þai men na thing I do
Bot as I woinit was myne awne seruandis to,
For kingis dedis, as all wise men recordis,
Suld be exampill to all vther lordis,
For as ane king is greter of degrie,
And oure all vther lordis in maiestie,
Sa suld þare gift haue na comparisoun
Till wther men, of law subiectioun.”
Than Alexander þis epistill send þat here is,
And grete rewardis gaif his messingeris.

Than Alexander [---] in þis maner
To send to Dare ane vther messingere,
Till owther bid him mete him in þe feild,
Or cum his man, and homage to him ȝeild;
And in þe nycht apperit þe god Aymon
Till Alexander in his avisioun,
In habit ryall, and in all liknnyng
As he in Macedone was crownit king,
In quhyte syndone syde cled, and to him said,
“Recomfort þe, and be na thing affrayid,
And mak the boun [in] gyse as þow me seis,
And to King Dare as messingere þow beis,
And say þow cummys fra Alexander þe king
Till him of battall to mak peroffering,
Or ellis to ȝeild ȝe cuntre hale and fre,
To mak fewta, and hauld his land of þe;
And be nocht dredand—all thing sall cum wele;
I sall ay with þe be of þai counsale,
And saif the fra perrell and perrissing,
And bring þai purposis all till gude ending.”
And on the morne, als sone as it war day,
The visioun till his counsale he couth say,
And said he wald fulfill þe ordinance
Of þe goddis that led his governance;
And all his counsale said it was to do,
And þare consent and counsale gaif þareto.
The samyin nycht—na langer bide he wald—
And of King Darris men, a prince, he cald,
That was newlingis cumynn to him to duell,
Quhilk he traistit als mekill as him-sel,
And baid him graith tua coursouris of þe best
That he couth cheis, and in quhom maist he trest,
And lepe on ane, and ane in hand he led,
For him behuffit pas with him in sic a sted
Quhare þair sould pas nane vper bot þai tua.

The lord passit furth, as he bad did sa,
And tuke twa hors, and on the tane he lap,
And Alexander apoun ane wther he gat—
Sa was ane hors fre led hernest at all,
Incace þat ony mister sould þame befall.
King Dare furth in his purchessing had bene
For men, and litill space was þame betuene,
Bot alanerlie ane ryver quhilk was grete,
That men callis Tigre, þat na man mycht oure gett
Bot at passagis made in grete cieteis,
And þare, quhay tane war of þe ost, he deis.
Syne war þare half ane iornay for to ryde
Till Daris pallas on the tothir syde,
Till ane ciete quhilk was callit Persepolas,
Quhare Daris duelling and his pallice was.
Thus rade þai furth als fast as þai mycht ride,
Ane grete hie trot vnto the river side,
The quhilk into þe wynter nycht was frosyn
Fra side to side, with berand stark yse closyn.