University of Virginia Library

Terne we aȝen, þar we wer er,
& speke we of is em Saber!
After þat Beues was þus sold,
For him is hertte was euer cold;
A clepede to him his sone Terri
And bad him wenden & aspie
In to eueri londe fer and ner,
Whider him ladde þe maroner,
And seide: ‘Sone, þow ert min owen,
Wel þow canst þe lord knowen!
Ich hote þe, sone, in alle manere,
Þat þow him seche þis seue ȝer:
Ich wile feche him, mowe þow him fynde,
Þouȝ he be bi-ȝende Ynde!’
Terri, is sone, is forþ ifare,
Beues a souȝte eueri whare;
In al heþenes nas toun non,
Þat cristene man miȝte þer in gon,
Þat he ne haþ Beues in isouȝt,
Ac he ne kouþe finde him nouȝt.
So hit be fel vpon a cas,
Þat Terri com beside Damas;
& ase he com forþ be þat stede,
A sat and dinede in a wede
Vnder a faire medle tre,
Þat sire Beues gan of-see.
‘Sire,’ queþ Terri, ‘for sein Iuline!
Is it þe wille, com nere & dine!’
Beues was of-hongred sore
And kouþe him gret þank þer fore,
For twei dawes he hadde ride
Fastande in þat ilche wede.

Þe palmer nas nouȝt wiþouten store,
Inouȝ a leide him be-fore,
Bred and flesc out of is male
And of his flaketes win & ale
Whan Beues hadde eten gret foisoun,
Terri askede at sire Beuoun,
Ȝif a herde telle ȝong or olde
Of a child, þat þeder was solde:
His name was i-hote Beuoun,
I-bore a was at Souþ-Hamtoun.
Beues be-held Terri & louȝ
& seide, a knew þat child wel inouȝ:
‘Hit is nouȝt,’ a seide, ‘gon longe,
I seȝ þe Sarsins þat child an-honge!’
Terri fel þer doun and swouȝ,
His her, his cloþes lre al to-drouȝ.
Whan he awok and speke miȝte,
Sore a wep and sore siȝte
And seide: ‘Allas, þat he was boren!
Is me lord Beues for-loren?’
Beues tok him vp at þat cas
And gan him for to solas:
‘Wend hom,’ a seide, ‘to þe contre!
Sai þe frendes so ichaue þe:
Þouȝ þow him seche þes seue ȝer,
Þow worst þat child neuer þe ner!’
Terri on Beues be-held
And seȝ þe boiste wiþ a scheld.
‘Me þenkeþ, þow ert a masager,
Þat in þis londe walkes her;
Icham a clerk and to scole ȝede:
Sire, let me þe letter rede,
For þow miȝt haue gret doute,
Þin owene deþ to bere aboute!’
Beues seide, ich vnder-stonde:
‘He, þat me tok þis letter an honde,
He ne wolde loue me non oþer,
Þan ich were is owene broþer.’
Beues him þankede & þus hii delde:
Terri wente hom and telde
His fader Saber in þe ilde of Wiȝt,
How him tolde a gentil kniȝt,
Þat Sarsins hadde Beues for-fare
And hangede him, while he was þare.

Saber wep and made drem,
For he was þe childes em,
And ech ȝer on a dai certaine
Vpon þemperur of Almaine
Wiþ a wel gret baronage
A cleimede his eritage.