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Beues in þe sadel lep,
His ost him folwede al to hep
Wiþ baner briȝt & scheldes schene,
Þretti þosent and fiftene.
Þe ferste scheld trome Beues nam.
Brademond aȝenes him cam;
His baner bar þe king Redefoun,
Þat leuede on sire Mahoun.
Row he was also a schep,
Beues of him nam gode kep.
He smot Arondel wiþ spures of golde;
Þanne þouȝte þat hors, þat he scholde,
Aȝen Redefoun Beues gan ride
And smot him þourȝ out boþe side,
Hauberk ne scheld ne actoun
Ne vailede him nouȝt worþ a botoun,
Þat he ne fel ded to þe grounde.
‘Reste þe,’ queþ Beues, ‘heþen hounde!
Þe hadde beter atom þan here!’
‘Lay on faste!’ a bad his fere.

Þo laide þai on wiþ eger mod
And slowe Sarsins, as hii wer wod,
And sire Beues, þe cristene kniȝt
Slouȝ ase mani in þat fiȝt
Wiþ Morgelay him self alone,
Ase þai deden euerichone.
And euer hii were to fiȝte prest
Til þat þe sonne set in þe west.
Beues and is ost wiþ inne a stounde
Sexti þosent þai felde to grounde,
Þat were out of Dameske isent,
Þat neuer on homward ne went.
Þo Brademond seȝ is folk islayn,
A fleȝ awei wiþ miȝte & mayn.
Ase he com ride be a cost,
Twei kniȝtes a fond of Beues ost;
Of his stede he gan doun liȝte
And bond hem boþe anon riȝte,
And þouȝte hem lede to his prisoun
And haue for hem gret raunsoun.
Ase he trosede hem on is stede,
Beues of hem nam gode hede,
And hasteliche in þat tide
After Brademond he gan ride
And seide: ‘Brademond, olde wreche,
Ertow come Iosiane to feche?
Erst þow schelt pase þourȝ min hond
And þourȝ Morgelay, me gode brond!’
Wiþ outen eni wordes mo
Beues Brademond hitte so
Vpon is helm in þat stounde,
Þat a felde him flat to grounde.