The buik of Alexander Or the buik of the most noble and valiant conquerour Alexander the Grit: By John Barbour ... Edited in four volumes, from the unique printed copy in the possession of the Earl of Dalhousie, with introductions, notes and glossary, together with the French originals (Li Fuerres de Gadres and Les Voeux du Paon) collated with numerous mss.: By R. L. Graeme Ritchie |
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 | The buik of Alexander |  |
In middes of Iupiteris hie palais,
That Venus gart mak in hir dais,
That was masoned and quarraled weill
With iaspe and beryall ilka deill,
And of Imagery, the quhilk thare was
Set of gold fra place to place,
Was Cassamus set and Gaudefere,
With thame Lyoun, pere and pere,
Arreste syne and Floridas,
Caules and worthy Perdicas;
On vther halfe was set Betys,
And Ideas the fare and wys,
And Fesonas and Caneus,
The Bauderane and syne Porrus,
Idorus and Elyote;
Thare was mony into that flote;
In ane randoun thay sat, I wene,
On carpettis carued with sheildis shene.
That Venus gart mak in hir dais,
That was masoned and quarraled weill
With iaspe and beryall ilka deill,
And of Imagery, the quhilk thare was
Set of gold fra place to place,
Was Cassamus set and Gaudefere,
303
Arreste syne and Floridas,
Caules and worthy Perdicas;
On vther halfe was set Betys,
And Ideas the fare and wys,
And Fesonas and Caneus,
The Bauderane and syne Porrus,
Idorus and Elyote;
Thare was mony into that flote;
In ane randoun thay sat, I wene,
On carpettis carued with sheildis shene.
In myddes the palace, quhare thay sat
On purpour stemming and veluat,
Quhare roses war and vther floures
And seirkin herbis of seir colouris,
The maydinnis honored the brether greatly;
In dede thay spak full courtasly.
Than Marciane said to Cassamus,
“Schir, ȝe haue all wonnen vs
For ȝour great wit and courtassy!
The peax now wald I, wit sikkerly,
Or that were hapned; bot ȝour King
Manance makes in mekill thing.
Thocht Clarus be of body auld,
Febill for trauell, lene and cauld,
And far fra his in vther countre,
With honour will he gouerned be,
And leif or de, quhether sa may fall;
And Alexander is stout with all,
And happy als of weir, I wis,
Mare than ony that leuand is.
And Clarus michty is alsua
Of land and men and freindis ma,
And is of body stout and wicht.
Sa worthis neidlingis that thay fecht
Quhill ane of thame discumfit be.
Bot thairof na mare speik will we!
Schortly to say, lo here Betys,
His armes and his hors of prys!
Now wald we, gif ȝour willis war,
Haue our freindis hame-wart fair!”
Cassamus ansuered thame in hy,
“I quyte-clame ȝe thame vterly!
Quhen euir ȝow lykis to gang ȝour way,
The ȝet sall opnit be, perfay,
Quhare weilcum heir mot euer ȝe be,
And wele cum and wele gane, parde,
Bot that cunnand be haldin, I wis:
Gif that the King fechtis and his,
That the tane, quhilk that it be,
Sall cum agane in this citte,
In presoun, in chalmer Venus,
To Fesonas and Idorus.”
Said Marciane, “sen it is thy deuis,
I hope thay will, with myne auys,
Cum blythly, for the presoun is
Licht and ioly and full of blis,
And alsua is the cumpany
Delytable, glaid and ioly;
And certis, gif the were na war,
I wald ane moneth be and mare
Glaidar heir, at myne auys,
Na haue to wis all paradys!”
Said Cassamus, “shir, grant mercyis!
This weir mislykis me mony wys,
And gif Clarus thinkes laith to haue peis,
Alexander is laithar it to ceis.”
With that, haly on fute thay rais,
And tuke thair leif vpone thair tais,
And quha had knawin the gude will and lufing,
He mycht haue knawin at leif-taking,
Be thare sembland and be thare fare,
Quha that war lufit and luffaris war.
On purpour stemming and veluat,
Quhare roses war and vther floures
And seirkin herbis of seir colouris,
The maydinnis honored the brether greatly;
In dede thay spak full courtasly.
Than Marciane said to Cassamus,
“Schir, ȝe haue all wonnen vs
For ȝour great wit and courtassy!
The peax now wald I, wit sikkerly,
Or that were hapned; bot ȝour King
Manance makes in mekill thing.
Thocht Clarus be of body auld,
Febill for trauell, lene and cauld,
And far fra his in vther countre,
With honour will he gouerned be,
And leif or de, quhether sa may fall;
And Alexander is stout with all,
And happy als of weir, I wis,
Mare than ony that leuand is.
And Clarus michty is alsua
304
And is of body stout and wicht.
Sa worthis neidlingis that thay fecht
Quhill ane of thame discumfit be.
Bot thairof na mare speik will we!
Schortly to say, lo here Betys,
His armes and his hors of prys!
Now wald we, gif ȝour willis war,
Haue our freindis hame-wart fair!”
Cassamus ansuered thame in hy,
“I quyte-clame ȝe thame vterly!
Quhen euir ȝow lykis to gang ȝour way,
The ȝet sall opnit be, perfay,
Quhare weilcum heir mot euer ȝe be,
And wele cum and wele gane, parde,
Bot that cunnand be haldin, I wis:
Gif that the King fechtis and his,
That the tane, quhilk that it be,
Sall cum agane in this citte,
In presoun, in chalmer Venus,
To Fesonas and Idorus.”
Said Marciane, “sen it is thy deuis,
I hope thay will, with myne auys,
Cum blythly, for the presoun is
Licht and ioly and full of blis,
And alsua is the cumpany
Delytable, glaid and ioly;
And certis, gif the were na war,
I wald ane moneth be and mare
Glaidar heir, at myne auys,
Na haue to wis all paradys!”
Said Cassamus, “shir, grant mercyis!
305
And gif Clarus thinkes laith to haue peis,
Alexander is laithar it to ceis.”
With that, haly on fute thay rais,
And tuke thair leif vpone thair tais,
And quha had knawin the gude will and lufing,
He mycht haue knawin at leif-taking,
Be thare sembland and be thare fare,
Quha that war lufit and luffaris war.
At leif-taking and thare parting,
Was maid mony greuous siching.
Ay tua and tua and thre and thre,
Held parliament that sueit menȝe.
Ane spak of armes and cheualry,
Ane vthir of armes and of droury,
The thrid of truith and of luffing,
And sueitly prayit with sad siching,
“My fare sueit hart, forȝet nocht me!
And ȝe forȝet, I sall nocht ȝe!”
Fezonas was weill taucht and heynd,
Towart Porrus couth sho weynd,
And by the hand richt courtasly
Scho tuke him, and said him sueitly
That na man here: “schir, ȝour presoun
Is nocht ȝit osted with resoun.
Ȝe ar with-haldin in my dangere.
Ȝe slew my poun!”—He said, “my deir,
I put me in ȝour courtasy,
All that I haue vtarly,
For-outin ony departing,
Body and hart forout lesing,
To leif in ostage with ȝow still!
And thairto euermare I will
Be ȝour knicht, my sueit lady,
And serue ȝow wele and lelely!”
“I hald me payit!” said that shene,
“Quhare sic ane weid is left, I wene
Men aucht to mak na mismaying
Nor dreid of courtes paying,
And thairfore with hart all wraith
I mon abyde, and ioyfull baith:
Ioyfull of sueit hope, I wis,
That in my hart ay sayand is,
‘Ȝit sall we vther weill se
And cum to speke in priuate,
And quhare we leif, now thair begin.’
Bot, for that we sa sone mon tuin,
Forouttin dout I am sory.
Ȝe speid ȝow hyne our hastelly!
With my will ȝe sould be here,
Or ȝe past hyne, this seuin ȝeir!”
Quhen Porrus hard, he leuch in hy,
And betaucht hir full courtasly
To all the goddis thay trowit in,
And lufsumly hir imbraissed syne.
Porrus out of the chalmer is gane,
And courtasly his leif hes tane.
His hart thare left he in ostage,
And tuke with him, as in homage,
Thocht and imaginatioun
Of Fesonas fare fassoun.
With his hart ene oft sall he se
Hir fare effere and hir bounte,
And of hir mak all the Image;
Myssaris reiffis nocht all that avantage.
And the Bauderane to Ideas
Beheld, that was sa fare of face,
Farar far than vther thing,
Of gentill corps and gude hauing,
Than said the Bauderane, “in Cartage—
Thair is my richteous heritage—
Thare sall I haue ȝow, quhare ȝe sall be
Lady of great dignite.
Now will I with my fallowis fare,
And keip my fewte with thame thare,
And heir I leif ȝow vterly
My hart, but parting, halely
To duell in ȝour sueit seruage,
And here to ȝow I mak homage!”
“Than,” said that sueit sempilly,
“Thareof sall fall ȝow na foly!
I thank ȝow baith in word and dede,
And prays our goddis that ȝe spede,
And saue ȝow fra shame euer mare!”
With that, thay turned and furth thay fare,
And of the toun thay went in hy
And to the hoste come hastelly.
Was maid mony greuous siching.
Ay tua and tua and thre and thre,
Held parliament that sueit menȝe.
Ane spak of armes and cheualry,
Ane vthir of armes and of droury,
The thrid of truith and of luffing,
And sueitly prayit with sad siching,
“My fare sueit hart, forȝet nocht me!
And ȝe forȝet, I sall nocht ȝe!”
Fezonas was weill taucht and heynd,
Towart Porrus couth sho weynd,
And by the hand richt courtasly
Scho tuke him, and said him sueitly
That na man here: “schir, ȝour presoun
Is nocht ȝit osted with resoun.
Ȝe ar with-haldin in my dangere.
Ȝe slew my poun!”—He said, “my deir,
I put me in ȝour courtasy,
All that I haue vtarly,
For-outin ony departing,
Body and hart forout lesing,
To leif in ostage with ȝow still!
306
Be ȝour knicht, my sueit lady,
And serue ȝow wele and lelely!”
“I hald me payit!” said that shene,
“Quhare sic ane weid is left, I wene
Men aucht to mak na mismaying
Nor dreid of courtes paying,
And thairfore with hart all wraith
I mon abyde, and ioyfull baith:
Ioyfull of sueit hope, I wis,
That in my hart ay sayand is,
‘Ȝit sall we vther weill se
And cum to speke in priuate,
And quhare we leif, now thair begin.’
Bot, for that we sa sone mon tuin,
Forouttin dout I am sory.
Ȝe speid ȝow hyne our hastelly!
With my will ȝe sould be here,
Or ȝe past hyne, this seuin ȝeir!”
Quhen Porrus hard, he leuch in hy,
And betaucht hir full courtasly
To all the goddis thay trowit in,
And lufsumly hir imbraissed syne.
Porrus out of the chalmer is gane,
And courtasly his leif hes tane.
His hart thare left he in ostage,
And tuke with him, as in homage,
Thocht and imaginatioun
Of Fesonas fare fassoun.
With his hart ene oft sall he se
Hir fare effere and hir bounte,
And of hir mak all the Image;
307
And the Bauderane to Ideas
Beheld, that was sa fare of face,
Farar far than vther thing,
Of gentill corps and gude hauing,
Than said the Bauderane, “in Cartage—
Thair is my richteous heritage—
Thare sall I haue ȝow, quhare ȝe sall be
Lady of great dignite.
Now will I with my fallowis fare,
And keip my fewte with thame thare,
And heir I leif ȝow vterly
My hart, but parting, halely
To duell in ȝour sueit seruage,
And here to ȝow I mak homage!”
“Than,” said that sueit sempilly,
“Thareof sall fall ȝow na foly!
I thank ȝow baith in word and dede,
And prays our goddis that ȝe spede,
And saue ȝow fra shame euer mare!”
With that, thay turned and furth thay fare,
And of the toun thay went in hy
And to the hoste come hastelly.
Befoir Clarus pauillioun,
That was all maid of gold sa broun,
All lichted doun euer ilk deill,
Before Clarus syne can thay kneill.
“Lordingis,” said ald Clarus the hare,
“Sa in this were ȝe traualed are
That ȝe haue neid to rest and ly.
Ȝour presoun greuis ȝow greatumly!
Ȝe haue lyen our lang in presoun!
Quhat sais of me dam Fezoun?
Will sho ȝit me hald for husband,
To peis this weir and saue hir land?”
“Na!” said Porrus, “foroutin wein,
Hir had leuer be grauin [in] grein
Than euer sho in ȝour dangere be!
Thay pryse ȝow nocht with ane penny,
For on tysday ȝe sall thame se
Isch to the playn with thare menȝe,
And alsua Alexander de Lere.
That cumis to help thay ladeis deir!”
“Certis,” said auld Clarus the King,
“Now haue I myne hale asking,
For vthir-wais I may nocht se
How I on thame may vengit be!”
“Schir,” said Porrus, “without lesing,
Vpone tysday in the mornyng,
Thay sall Isch furth and ta the feild,
Armit on hors with speir and scheild,
All arrayit as for battailȝe,
Baner displayit, vailȝe que vailȝe,
Thay sall be weill tuentie thousand
Bot Alexander, I tak on hand,
That cummis to se ws certanly
With x. thousand vassalis hardy!”
Quhen auld Clarus hard Porrus tell,
That spak the day of the battell,
And Alexander suld Pharone pas
On fryday, and thay that with him was,
That x thowsand Knychtis war,
All that he prysit nocht ane hare,
And [said] “thay ar ane lytill dynare
To our great hoste that we haue here!”
And syne behelde he Porrus,
And to the Bauderane said thus,
“Marciane, fare cousing deir,
Say me, ar thir the bachleir
That can avow sa haltanly
Before ladyis that ar ioly?”
“Ȝa, shir,” said Marciane, “parde!”
“Perfay,” said Clarus, “thay suld be
Menskit and lofit wele the mare,
For of great hart gif thay na ware,
Thay had nocht thocht [that] on na wyse!
And [I] that nocht saw the ladeis,
Na brek the poun, na myrthis mak,
How may I straik gif or tak?
For thay haue left me na kin thing
To confort me in na louing!
Bot quha hes gift of lemmen deir,
And [wis] to lufe forout dangeir,
And ȝarning worship for to prufe,
And wening syne to win hir lufe,
He aucht wele to begin sic thing,
To put the body to amending!”
“Ȝe can wele speik,” said Marciane,
“And reik great routis with mekill mane!
Could ȝe sa weill ane fare gift geif,
And power worthy men [na] reif
And call ȝour courtes nichtbouris fare,
Nane worthyar war, hyne to Cesare!
Bot worship is away, I wis,
In ryche men that sparand is!”
That was all maid of gold sa broun,
All lichted doun euer ilk deill,
Before Clarus syne can thay kneill.
“Lordingis,” said ald Clarus the hare,
“Sa in this were ȝe traualed are
That ȝe haue neid to rest and ly.
Ȝour presoun greuis ȝow greatumly!
Ȝe haue lyen our lang in presoun!
308
Will sho ȝit me hald for husband,
To peis this weir and saue hir land?”
“Na!” said Porrus, “foroutin wein,
Hir had leuer be grauin [in] grein
Than euer sho in ȝour dangere be!
Thay pryse ȝow nocht with ane penny,
For on tysday ȝe sall thame se
Isch to the playn with thare menȝe,
And alsua Alexander de Lere.
That cumis to help thay ladeis deir!”
“Certis,” said auld Clarus the King,
“Now haue I myne hale asking,
For vthir-wais I may nocht se
How I on thame may vengit be!”
“Schir,” said Porrus, “without lesing,
Vpone tysday in the mornyng,
Thay sall Isch furth and ta the feild,
Armit on hors with speir and scheild,
All arrayit as for battailȝe,
Baner displayit, vailȝe que vailȝe,
Thay sall be weill tuentie thousand
Bot Alexander, I tak on hand,
That cummis to se ws certanly
With x. thousand vassalis hardy!”
Quhen auld Clarus hard Porrus tell,
That spak the day of the battell,
And Alexander suld Pharone pas
On fryday, and thay that with him was,
That x thowsand Knychtis war,
All that he prysit nocht ane hare,
And [said] “thay ar ane lytill dynare
309
And syne behelde he Porrus,
And to the Bauderane said thus,
“Marciane, fare cousing deir,
Say me, ar thir the bachleir
That can avow sa haltanly
Before ladyis that ar ioly?”
“Ȝa, shir,” said Marciane, “parde!”
“Perfay,” said Clarus, “thay suld be
Menskit and lofit wele the mare,
For of great hart gif thay na ware,
Thay had nocht thocht [that] on na wyse!
And [I] that nocht saw the ladeis,
Na brek the poun, na myrthis mak,
How may I straik gif or tak?
For thay haue left me na kin thing
To confort me in na louing!
Bot quha hes gift of lemmen deir,
And [wis] to lufe forout dangeir,
And ȝarning worship for to prufe,
And wening syne to win hir lufe,
He aucht wele to begin sic thing,
To put the body to amending!”
“Ȝe can wele speik,” said Marciane,
“And reik great routis with mekill mane!
Could ȝe sa weill ane fare gift geif,
And power worthy men [na] reif
And call ȝour courtes nichtbouris fare,
Nane worthyar war, hyne to Cesare!
Bot worship is away, I wis,
In ryche men that sparand is!”
310
Said Clarus, “nece, of that seiknes
I sall be wareist weill at eis,
Gif thay will me prys ocht!
Eftir this battale, it is my thocht
To amend wrang and velany,
And my great treasour halely
Sall delt be, with thy counsale, all,
And be partit in great and small.”
“Fare Eme,” said Marciane, “God wait
Thow hes that dremit all to lait.
It may auale the now richt nocht,
Bot lang quhyle syne had thow it thocht,
Now doubill-fald It suld be quyte,
Bot thy scarsnes hes reft the it;
For ay, throw geuing largely,
[Man] hes of the gude cumpany.
Geuin our all hes lordship,
For geuin dois men wirship
And strykis mony ane straik, I wis!”
“Fare nece,” said Clarus, “suith it is
Bot I wend nocht that sa had bene.
Bot now I wait foroutin wein
That bettir is gude men tretit weill
Than ony treasour or ioweill!
Bot thair-fore, cousing, sall nocht faill
On tysday the great battaill,
And thairfore plane I pray the
That my standart vpdressit be,
The banare waiffand to the wynd.
Sic wairisoun men sall thare find
That, or it half-deill hewyn be,
I hope that Gaudifeir, parde,
Wald haue maid ane vthir vow!”
Said Marciane, “sa sall I trow!”
“Speke we vthir-wais!” said Marciane,
“We are cumin heir as men of mane,
Far fra ouris, in vthir countre.
I hope that richt sone fecht sall we
With the nobillest folk and the best
That fra the est is to the west,
And with the best King of renoun hie,
And maist may of noyis dre,
That euir was vnder the firmament
Or that euir beis, to my intent.
For he is fare and auenand,
Hardy, wyse and conquerand,
Happy in weir, and weill luffit
With all that his lordship hes pruffit.
Sa it is misterfull that we
Richt wittely auysit be
How, and on quhat wyse alsua,
That we may best to battaill ga!”
“[Ȝe spekis] wysly!” said Clarus then,
“We haue ane houndreth thousand men
At our leding, and my counsale Is
That we of thame mak vi. battallis.
And the first gif I in leding
To Porrus for gude keping.”
Said Clarus, “fare, sueit sone deir,
Ane fare gift I sall gif the heir.
Fra me I had na geuin it nocht,
Na war that I me vmbethocht
That thow hes baith auowit and hecht,
Before the ladeis that ar bricht,
For to vincus the great battaill!”
“Schir,” said Porrus, “forouttin faill,
Ȝe say suith, and, gif God will,
That I haue hecht I sall fulfill,
For the steid, and the ioly thocht,
And thair proud amouris, me besocht,
And stollin blenkis of fare ene clere,
And great pryde of thame that thare were,
Of knichtis of Grece and of Calde!”
Said Clarus, “sueit sonne, parde,
That it war vtherwayes I na wold,
Forsuith nocht for ane wall of gold!”
“Cum furth,” syne said he, “shir Bauderane!
The tother battell (sa God me sane!)
Methink it richt weill set on the.
Thow can ga sumdele forrow me!
For that I knaw the leill in will,
And settis thyne intent to fulfill,
Hardy and doutit in melle,
This ryall gift sall I gif the;
And also thow hes of thyne awin
Fyftene thousand that is wele knawin,
Armit weill baith fute and hand,
Staluart in ilka stour to stand.
Than may we ryde ay to we se,
Vpoun the walles of the citie,
The ferly fare dame Fesonas,
That thusgait me forsaken hes
That I haue distroyit thair land!
And thow sall se, I tak on hand,
The ferly fare maieste
Of Ideas, that is sa fre!”
Quhen he him hard, he sichit sone,
And courtasly, forouttin hone,
He said, “for ane sicht of that shene
Hes mony men amendit bene,
And gif that I na better be,
Maugre haue I gif sho me se!
Hir geuin is my hart soueranely!”
Said Clarus, “thow hes wonnin greatly!
Gif Fesonas, the fare and cleir,
Wald lufe me on sik manere
And sa to confort me had tane,
Armit nor vther suld I dreid nane!”
“Tak heid, my gude sone Caneus!
My first sone art thow,” said Clarus,
“And in the I maist affy,
[For] that thow me lufes steidfastly.
Of the thrid thow salt be
Lord and ledar, and with the
Sall be weill neir fyftene thowsand.
Vpone thy steid on my richt hand
Thow sall ryde, efter the Bauderane.
Neir-hand, besyde, into the plane,
And Porrus sall before ȝow ga,
With xv thousand men or ma
In his battell, ane bow-draucht neir.
Bot luke that thow on na maneir
Pas with thy men the first isheil!
For men may cum, I warne the weill,
All be tyme to be derayit;
Quhen men in turnay ar purueyit,
Thay sall wele mare redoutit be,
And in thare deidis mair auysse,
For to stryke sad straikes, I wis!”—
“Schir, be it as ȝour bidding is!”
Efter the tyme King Clarus
Had said his will to Caneus,
Caleos, prince of Amory,
His midmest sone, come neir him by.
For he was worthy, fare and fre,
The mair all out him honored he,
And said, “sueit sone, I gif the here
The ferd battell to keip and stere,
To keip my honour or it faill;
And xv thousand men all haill
Haue thow, that ar stout and hardy,
Horssit and armit iolely.
Vpone my richt hand thow sall ryde
Ane lytill before me, at ane syde,
Followand the Bauderane at the bak.”
“Schir,” said the chylde, “I vnder-tak
To do all that ȝe bid me heir.
May I meit Alexander de Lere,
I think to assaill him sa
That lyfe and saull sall part him fra!”
Clarus was wonder wyse of weir,
And wele couth ordane his effeir,
To greif his fais with word and micht.
His maistry mekill was, I hecht,
Bot ȝit wele mare was his manheid.
Bot couetous, scarce and quyed
He was sa, that in his countre
Was nouther strange na ȝit preue
That he na reft rent and mobillis baith;
Will nane him mene, thocht he tak skaith!
He rais amang his menȝe all,
Vpone Salphadyne he can call:
“Fair sueit sone, ga heir and ta,
With xv thousand men and ma,
The leding of the fyft battale!
For dout of deid will nane the fale!
And I sall heir behind ȝow be,
And the sext battell with me,
And se the melle all, I wis,
And assemble als, quhen mister is,
With ane hundreth thousand men;
Quhair euer we cum, men sall vs ken!”
“Lordingis,” said Clarus, “on tyisday,
Als airly as euer we may,
Luke we be armit and wele dicht,
As gude warriouris and wicht!
And ilk man to his baner,
For my lufe, haue ane gude berer!
Towart thame syne ryde we may!
Thay will cum prekand at deray,
That ar great warriouris, wit ȝe weill.
Ressaue thame with ȝour swordis of steill!
All salbe lordis at speiris streking,
That ȝarnis for to win louing.
Ane pure man is als mekill thairto
As ane empriour thair-at may do.
Marciane, my fair cousing deir,
Thow art my sister sone, but weir;
At my brydill thow salbe
On tysday at the melle,
And the King of Pincarny alsua;
I gif me hale to ȝow tua!
Gif ȝe me keip, ȝe sall haue
Great honour and great proffeit baith!
Be all our Goddis, gif I may se
My tyme, I sall wele wengit be
Of him, ȝon iouglouris sone, I hecht!”
Said Marciane, “be God of micht,
Na strenth agane vs may he haif;
He sall be deid, and all the laif!”
I sall be wareist weill at eis,
Gif thay will me prys ocht!
Eftir this battale, it is my thocht
To amend wrang and velany,
And my great treasour halely
Sall delt be, with thy counsale, all,
And be partit in great and small.”
“Fare Eme,” said Marciane, “God wait
Thow hes that dremit all to lait.
It may auale the now richt nocht,
Bot lang quhyle syne had thow it thocht,
Now doubill-fald It suld be quyte,
Bot thy scarsnes hes reft the it;
For ay, throw geuing largely,
[Man] hes of the gude cumpany.
Geuin our all hes lordship,
For geuin dois men wirship
And strykis mony ane straik, I wis!”
“Fare nece,” said Clarus, “suith it is
Bot I wend nocht that sa had bene.
Bot now I wait foroutin wein
That bettir is gude men tretit weill
Than ony treasour or ioweill!
Bot thair-fore, cousing, sall nocht faill
On tysday the great battaill,
And thairfore plane I pray the
That my standart vpdressit be,
The banare waiffand to the wynd.
Sic wairisoun men sall thare find
That, or it half-deill hewyn be,
I hope that Gaudifeir, parde,
311
Said Marciane, “sa sall I trow!”
“Speke we vthir-wais!” said Marciane,
“We are cumin heir as men of mane,
Far fra ouris, in vthir countre.
I hope that richt sone fecht sall we
With the nobillest folk and the best
That fra the est is to the west,
And with the best King of renoun hie,
And maist may of noyis dre,
That euir was vnder the firmament
Or that euir beis, to my intent.
For he is fare and auenand,
Hardy, wyse and conquerand,
Happy in weir, and weill luffit
With all that his lordship hes pruffit.
Sa it is misterfull that we
Richt wittely auysit be
How, and on quhat wyse alsua,
That we may best to battaill ga!”
“[Ȝe spekis] wysly!” said Clarus then,
“We haue ane houndreth thousand men
At our leding, and my counsale Is
That we of thame mak vi. battallis.
And the first gif I in leding
To Porrus for gude keping.”
Said Clarus, “fare, sueit sone deir,
Ane fare gift I sall gif the heir.
Fra me I had na geuin it nocht,
Na war that I me vmbethocht
That thow hes baith auowit and hecht,
Before the ladeis that ar bricht,
312
“Schir,” said Porrus, “forouttin faill,
Ȝe say suith, and, gif God will,
That I haue hecht I sall fulfill,
For the steid, and the ioly thocht,
And thair proud amouris, me besocht,
And stollin blenkis of fare ene clere,
And great pryde of thame that thare were,
Of knichtis of Grece and of Calde!”
Said Clarus, “sueit sonne, parde,
That it war vtherwayes I na wold,
Forsuith nocht for ane wall of gold!”
“Cum furth,” syne said he, “shir Bauderane!
The tother battell (sa God me sane!)
Methink it richt weill set on the.
Thow can ga sumdele forrow me!
For that I knaw the leill in will,
And settis thyne intent to fulfill,
Hardy and doutit in melle,
This ryall gift sall I gif the;
And also thow hes of thyne awin
Fyftene thousand that is wele knawin,
Armit weill baith fute and hand,
Staluart in ilka stour to stand.
Than may we ryde ay to we se,
Vpoun the walles of the citie,
The ferly fare dame Fesonas,
That thusgait me forsaken hes
That I haue distroyit thair land!
And thow sall se, I tak on hand,
The ferly fare maieste
Of Ideas, that is sa fre!”
313
And courtasly, forouttin hone,
He said, “for ane sicht of that shene
Hes mony men amendit bene,
And gif that I na better be,
Maugre haue I gif sho me se!
Hir geuin is my hart soueranely!”
Said Clarus, “thow hes wonnin greatly!
Gif Fesonas, the fare and cleir,
Wald lufe me on sik manere
And sa to confort me had tane,
Armit nor vther suld I dreid nane!”
“Tak heid, my gude sone Caneus!
My first sone art thow,” said Clarus,
“And in the I maist affy,
[For] that thow me lufes steidfastly.
Of the thrid thow salt be
Lord and ledar, and with the
Sall be weill neir fyftene thowsand.
Vpone thy steid on my richt hand
Thow sall ryde, efter the Bauderane.
Neir-hand, besyde, into the plane,
And Porrus sall before ȝow ga,
With xv thousand men or ma
In his battell, ane bow-draucht neir.
Bot luke that thow on na maneir
Pas with thy men the first isheil!
For men may cum, I warne the weill,
All be tyme to be derayit;
Quhen men in turnay ar purueyit,
Thay sall wele mare redoutit be,
And in thare deidis mair auysse,
314
“Schir, be it as ȝour bidding is!”
Efter the tyme King Clarus
Had said his will to Caneus,
Caleos, prince of Amory,
His midmest sone, come neir him by.
For he was worthy, fare and fre,
The mair all out him honored he,
And said, “sueit sone, I gif the here
The ferd battell to keip and stere,
To keip my honour or it faill;
And xv thousand men all haill
Haue thow, that ar stout and hardy,
Horssit and armit iolely.
Vpone my richt hand thow sall ryde
Ane lytill before me, at ane syde,
Followand the Bauderane at the bak.”
“Schir,” said the chylde, “I vnder-tak
To do all that ȝe bid me heir.
May I meit Alexander de Lere,
I think to assaill him sa
That lyfe and saull sall part him fra!”
Clarus was wonder wyse of weir,
And wele couth ordane his effeir,
To greif his fais with word and micht.
His maistry mekill was, I hecht,
Bot ȝit wele mare was his manheid.
Bot couetous, scarce and quyed
He was sa, that in his countre
Was nouther strange na ȝit preue
That he na reft rent and mobillis baith;
Will nane him mene, thocht he tak skaith!
315
Vpone Salphadyne he can call:
“Fair sueit sone, ga heir and ta,
With xv thousand men and ma,
The leding of the fyft battale!
For dout of deid will nane the fale!
And I sall heir behind ȝow be,
And the sext battell with me,
And se the melle all, I wis,
And assemble als, quhen mister is,
With ane hundreth thousand men;
Quhair euer we cum, men sall vs ken!”
“Lordingis,” said Clarus, “on tyisday,
Als airly as euer we may,
Luke we be armit and wele dicht,
As gude warriouris and wicht!
And ilk man to his baner,
For my lufe, haue ane gude berer!
Towart thame syne ryde we may!
Thay will cum prekand at deray,
That ar great warriouris, wit ȝe weill.
Ressaue thame with ȝour swordis of steill!
All salbe lordis at speiris streking,
That ȝarnis for to win louing.
Ane pure man is als mekill thairto
As ane empriour thair-at may do.
Marciane, my fair cousing deir,
Thow art my sister sone, but weir;
At my brydill thow salbe
On tysday at the melle,
And the King of Pincarny alsua;
I gif me hale to ȝow tua!
316
Great honour and great proffeit baith!
Be all our Goddis, gif I may se
My tyme, I sall wele wengit be
Of him, ȝon iouglouris sone, I hecht!”
Said Marciane, “be God of micht,
Na strenth agane vs may he haif;
He sall be deid, and all the laif!”
Said Clarus, “sa God me rede!
Gif that he de or I be dede,
And I may wit it, wit thow weill
My sorrow ceisit beis ilk deill!”
Quhen he had said thir wordis heir,
He lenit him on ane souldeir,
Befoir the dure of his pauillioun;
About him hard he mony barroun
Spekand of the great iorne.
“Lordingis, now pray I ȝow,” said he,
“That ilk man be worthy and wicht,
To hey my honour and ȝour micht;
The myster is sik as ȝe se.
Marciane, fair cousing fre,
To-morne but baid or langer let,
Thow gar my standart vp be set—
Thare woundit and menȝeit may rely—
Enforsit with sic cumpany
That, gif Gaudefere cum thairto,
To hew it, as he hecht to do,
I pray that he be countered sa
That he thairefter na hething ma!
And certis I dar say and suere
That neuer ȝit was wittin ere
Quhare man avowit sa hattandly
Na mannasit with sic succoudry!”
Said Marciane, “now may ȝe se
That betuix lufe and ladeis fre,
And courtes aquentance alsua,
Garris sum men sic thing vndir-ta
That puttis thame to sic louing,
And syne to Ioy and solasing!”
“Thow hes suith,” said Clarus, “perfay,
For by thare wordis ȝesterday,
Is weill sene thay war sa haltane
That ane mychty man of mane
Durst nocht derene, I dar la wed!”
With that, thay partit all and ȝeid to bed.
Gif that he de or I be dede,
And I may wit it, wit thow weill
My sorrow ceisit beis ilk deill!”
Quhen he had said thir wordis heir,
He lenit him on ane souldeir,
Befoir the dure of his pauillioun;
About him hard he mony barroun
Spekand of the great iorne.
“Lordingis, now pray I ȝow,” said he,
“That ilk man be worthy and wicht,
To hey my honour and ȝour micht;
The myster is sik as ȝe se.
Marciane, fair cousing fre,
To-morne but baid or langer let,
Thow gar my standart vp be set—
Thare woundit and menȝeit may rely—
Enforsit with sic cumpany
That, gif Gaudefere cum thairto,
To hew it, as he hecht to do,
I pray that he be countered sa
That he thairefter na hething ma!
And certis I dar say and suere
That neuer ȝit was wittin ere
317
Na mannasit with sic succoudry!”
Said Marciane, “now may ȝe se
That betuix lufe and ladeis fre,
And courtes aquentance alsua,
Garris sum men sic thing vndir-ta
That puttis thame to sic louing,
And syne to Ioy and solasing!”
“Thow hes suith,” said Clarus, “perfay,
For by thare wordis ȝesterday,
Is weill sene thay war sa haltane
That ane mychty man of mane
Durst nocht derene, I dar la wed!”
With that, thay partit all and ȝeid to bed.
Apone the morne quhen it was day,
The air was cleir and it was day.
Marciane, quhen his lyking was,
Rais, and with the standart gais
And set it vp in myddis the grene.
The folk of Grece than hes it sene;
Said Alexander, “lordis, we ly
Here all to lang; thairfore will I
Pas our the ȝonde half of Pharone
And ask the treuage at ald Clarone,
That we fra his brother wan!
And thairfore think euirilk man
To leif keipand the senȝeory
That we haue winnyn throw maistry!
Pour men ar the folk of Inde,
And armit euill men sall thame find.
Lytill ar thay worth, and can bot small
Of weir; and thus I warne ȝow all,
Be thay assailȝeit hardely,
And encountered egerly,
That formest cumis, ȝe sall se
The hindmest sall abased be.
Suth is that Clarus sonnes ar gude
And michty men of mane and mude,
And Marciane of Pers alsua;
Thame micht men outher taik or sla
Throw strenth, or lyst, or ony wyse,
The laif ar lytill for to pryse!”
“Lordingis,” said the nobill King,
“My hart hes he dois my bidding!
Quha haldis bidding, throw ressoun is
Hardy; wele I warne ȝow this,
That of fare strakes the maist party
Ar throw auyse maid halely.
For-thy I pray ilk man that he
Nocht couetous na ȝarnand be
To tak na ryches that thay wald,
Bot wyn of deidly fais the fald.
Fra thay be winnin, all, wit ȝe weill,
The gudis ar ouris euer ilk deill,
And I quyteclame ȝow vterly
Baith gold and syluer halely
And all the riches that thairis is.
The honour will I haue, I wis!
I hald me payit that part to haif;
I keip na mare of all the laif!
And weill with ilkane witterly
We ar in sic ane party
That, quik or deid, ouris is the land.
Thocht thay be mony, I tak on hand
With lytill mischeif, for all thair lare,
Thay sall fle, all that euer thay ar!”
“Suith sayis our Lord!” ilkane thay say,
“Clarus sall by his great deray!”
Quhen Alexander, that na boist may fley,
Saw the standart dressed hey,
Dicht and masoned stalwartly,
And the hoste of Inde halely
Sterand and reuisand heir and thare,
“Lordingis,” said he, “I will fare
Out-our Pharon, and with me sall
Fare my men in armis all.
The halfe on this halfe of Pharouns
Sall dwell, to keip the pauilliouns.
Our horses with rapes and ginnis be
Aualyt with battis doun to the se,
And all our menȝe sall doun ga,
Endlang the steppis, tua and tua,
Sua that in tua dayis, or in thre,
We sall all our passed be.
On tyisday sall this weir tak end!
Now cum quhat euer God will send!”
Quhen the King had said his will,
Thay went smartly thair armes till,
And criaris out throw the hoist can cry
That all suld follow the King in hy.
The air was cleir and it was day.
Marciane, quhen his lyking was,
Rais, and with the standart gais
And set it vp in myddis the grene.
The folk of Grece than hes it sene;
Said Alexander, “lordis, we ly
Here all to lang; thairfore will I
Pas our the ȝonde half of Pharone
And ask the treuage at ald Clarone,
That we fra his brother wan!
And thairfore think euirilk man
To leif keipand the senȝeory
That we haue winnyn throw maistry!
Pour men ar the folk of Inde,
And armit euill men sall thame find.
Lytill ar thay worth, and can bot small
Of weir; and thus I warne ȝow all,
318
And encountered egerly,
That formest cumis, ȝe sall se
The hindmest sall abased be.
Suth is that Clarus sonnes ar gude
And michty men of mane and mude,
And Marciane of Pers alsua;
Thame micht men outher taik or sla
Throw strenth, or lyst, or ony wyse,
The laif ar lytill for to pryse!”
“Lordingis,” said the nobill King,
“My hart hes he dois my bidding!
Quha haldis bidding, throw ressoun is
Hardy; wele I warne ȝow this,
That of fare strakes the maist party
Ar throw auyse maid halely.
For-thy I pray ilk man that he
Nocht couetous na ȝarnand be
To tak na ryches that thay wald,
Bot wyn of deidly fais the fald.
Fra thay be winnin, all, wit ȝe weill,
The gudis ar ouris euer ilk deill,
And I quyteclame ȝow vterly
Baith gold and syluer halely
And all the riches that thairis is.
The honour will I haue, I wis!
I hald me payit that part to haif;
I keip na mare of all the laif!
And weill with ilkane witterly
We ar in sic ane party
That, quik or deid, ouris is the land.
Thocht thay be mony, I tak on hand
319
Thay sall fle, all that euer thay ar!”
“Suith sayis our Lord!” ilkane thay say,
“Clarus sall by his great deray!”
Quhen Alexander, that na boist may fley,
Saw the standart dressed hey,
Dicht and masoned stalwartly,
And the hoste of Inde halely
Sterand and reuisand heir and thare,
“Lordingis,” said he, “I will fare
Out-our Pharon, and with me sall
Fare my men in armis all.
The halfe on this halfe of Pharouns
Sall dwell, to keip the pauilliouns.
Our horses with rapes and ginnis be
Aualyt with battis doun to the se,
And all our menȝe sall doun ga,
Endlang the steppis, tua and tua,
Sua that in tua dayis, or in thre,
We sall all our passed be.
On tyisday sall this weir tak end!
Now cum quhat euer God will send!”
Quhen the King had said his will,
Thay went smartly thair armes till,
And criaris out throw the hoist can cry
That all suld follow the King in hy.
Now gais his way the nobill King,
That was honored attour all thing—
Ane better King was neuer borne,
Efter his tyme na ȝit beforne—
Armit weill and gayly dicht,
And als Emynedus the wicht,
Dauclyne als and Tholomeris,
And weill x thousand Knychtis,
That the gude King throw his bounte
[OMITTED] and throw his great largite.
He was courtas, sueit and quent,
And wysly spekand at all poynt.
All fallowit him, for all him luffit
And he great lufrent to thame prufit,
Hand in hand with menȝe fare,
Ȝeid doun the steipis of the Phare.
Quhen thay war cuming doun, thay fand
Baith stapis and battis at thare hand,
That had thame out to Effezoun.
Quhen he was cumming to the toun,
Sic Ioy sall ȝow neuer se
As thay maid thame in the citie.
The King to land is went, I wys,
And Tholomere him fallowit is,
Dauclene and gude Emynedus,
Lycanor and Antigonus,
Philot and Festione alsua.
Thair of the douzeperis war na ma,
The laif war in the chalmer of Venus,
Arreste, Perdicas and Caulus,
And Lyonell and Floridas,
That with Fezoun and Ydeas
Maid thare delyte with gamin and play,
And of the presoneris spak thay,
That wist na thing of the King,
Na of his cuming na kin thing,
Quhill that ane squyare hes him tald,
Cassamus de Larys the auld.
Quhen the gude man him hard, I wis,
His hart for Ioy reioysit is,
And to his cousingis syne said he,
“Wp suyth, myne aune cousingis fre!
The mychty King of Massidonȝe
Is cumming heir without sonȝe.
Now is our mycht growin sua
Thare may na power ws our-ga!
Now prys I nocht the oist of Ynd
The leist stra that men mycht find,
Na ȝit Clarus na Marciane,
The King of Pincarny na his men!
Thay rusit thame that ane houndreth thousand
Of scheildis sould about thame stand,
Bot me had leuer of gude ane haue
Than ane vaill full of ill to craue!”
That was honored attour all thing—
Ane better King was neuer borne,
Efter his tyme na ȝit beforne—
Armit weill and gayly dicht,
And als Emynedus the wicht,
320
And weill x thousand Knychtis,
That the gude King throw his bounte
[OMITTED] and throw his great largite.
He was courtas, sueit and quent,
And wysly spekand at all poynt.
All fallowit him, for all him luffit
And he great lufrent to thame prufit,
Hand in hand with menȝe fare,
Ȝeid doun the steipis of the Phare.
Quhen thay war cuming doun, thay fand
Baith stapis and battis at thare hand,
That had thame out to Effezoun.
Quhen he was cumming to the toun,
Sic Ioy sall ȝow neuer se
As thay maid thame in the citie.
The King to land is went, I wys,
And Tholomere him fallowit is,
Dauclene and gude Emynedus,
Lycanor and Antigonus,
Philot and Festione alsua.
Thair of the douzeperis war na ma,
The laif war in the chalmer of Venus,
Arreste, Perdicas and Caulus,
And Lyonell and Floridas,
That with Fezoun and Ydeas
Maid thare delyte with gamin and play,
And of the presoneris spak thay,
That wist na thing of the King,
Na of his cuming na kin thing,
Quhill that ane squyare hes him tald,
Cassamus de Larys the auld.
321
His hart for Ioy reioysit is,
And to his cousingis syne said he,
“Wp suyth, myne aune cousingis fre!
The mychty King of Massidonȝe
Is cumming heir without sonȝe.
Now is our mycht growin sua
Thare may na power ws our-ga!
Now prys I nocht the oist of Ynd
The leist stra that men mycht find,
Na ȝit Clarus na Marciane,
The King of Pincarny na his men!
Thay rusit thame that ane houndreth thousand
Of scheildis sould about thame stand,
Bot me had leuer of gude ane haue
Than ane vaill full of ill to craue!”
“Childer,” said auld Cassamus,
“Heirin is cumming for to wesy vs
The King of Grece, that God maid air
Of Grece, quhair vertew maid repare.
Courtas, fare and wyse he is,
Hardy and worthy als, I wys,
And sicker to do his deuore weill
In hard stour of battell mortell.
Sueit and humyll he is, I hecht,
And meik in all his mekill mycht;
Of honour he is keper,
Of gudis large and dispender.
Of him mare quhat sall I say?
Mercy in his hart is ay,
To ressaue all that him prayis.
Now is he cummyng in our paleis,
To wit quhy Clarus is cummin heir
To asseage vs on this maneir,
Bot we sall gar him gang his gait,
Or repent him may fall to lait!
On tyisday sall the battell be,
Quhair men the worthy weill may se!
Thair may worthy, gif thay will,
Fall great worship weill thame till!”
“Chylder,” said Cassamus the hare,
“(Sa God himselfe me keip fra care!)
I am ane man of mekill eild,
And thinkis to abyde in the feild,
And mony ane strake stryke, I wis.
Than byrd ȝow weill that ioly is,
Ȝong, stalwart and michty,
In soiurne nurist nobilly,
Wele ioyus in armes and drowry!
Lordingis deir, to ȝow I say
Worship ȝow summondis on tyisday
To put ȝour bodeis to assay,
In bath of sueit and swordis hewin,
And sturde stokking and stampin.
Thare sall worship hald court, I hecht,
And deme honour euin to the richt,
With hardement, counsell and vigour;
Thare sall men se quha ȝarnis honour!
And we aucht wele, baith men and page,
Gang to defend our heritage,
That Clarus wald haue with maistry,
For he hes fundin [vs] anerly
Forouttin lord, but vther skill
But succudry and his will.
To our goddis I plenȝe all,
And to ȝow lordis, great and small,
And Alexander the nobill King,
That bringis heir in our helping
Mony ane gentill knicht, I wis.
Ga we and meit thame with Ioy and blis.
Quhare weilcum be he in this toun!”—
Than ȝeid thay all agane him doun.
Doun of the palace Iupiter
The barronis ischit in fare affere,
That glaid and ioly was and gay.
Togidder hand in hand ȝeid thay,
Singand and carraland iolely
Of Alexanderis cheualry,
How he wan Daurus and Nicholas
And mony vthir seimly place.
Before the auld tempill Venus
Thay met the King, carraland thus,
Amang his men that worthy war.
Great honour ilkane can him bare,
And profferit him courtasly
Baith body and gudis halely.
Said Alexander, “grant mercyis!
Ȝe sall wel wit on quhat kin wys,
Or I pas hyne, how it me noyis
That Clarus this ȝour land destroyis!”
“Schir,” said the fare dam Fezonas,
“His mycht great marring to vs mais!”
“Fare,” said the King, “mysmay ȝow nocht!
I knaw that ald, in deid and thocht,
Weill far better than ȝe do.
He is baith fell and cruell to;
That is weill by the countre sene,
He hes destroyit all bedene!”
“The skaith is great,” said Cassamus,
“Bot I trow to our God Marcus
That it sall sone redressit be,
Gif God thame sauis that I heir se!”
“Ȝa, schir, gif God will!” said the King,
And with that word baith auld and ȝing
Ressauit him full richely.
The madinnis inclynnit to him courtasly,
And syne of erlis, barrouns and knychtis
He was honorit with all thare mychtis.
The King in to the palace come,
That of storys of Troy and Rome
Was porturit clenly, and Intermellit
With gold that was weill anamalit:
How that destroyit was the toune
And stollin the paleadione,
And how the Grecians destroyit ware;
All this halely was pantyt thare.
The King beheld the panting fast;
On silkin carpettis at the last
He sat, and gart vnarme him syne,
Amang the ladeis fare and fyne.
“Heirin is cumming for to wesy vs
The King of Grece, that God maid air
Of Grece, quhair vertew maid repare.
Courtas, fare and wyse he is,
Hardy and worthy als, I wys,
And sicker to do his deuore weill
In hard stour of battell mortell.
Sueit and humyll he is, I hecht,
And meik in all his mekill mycht;
Of honour he is keper,
Of gudis large and dispender.
Of him mare quhat sall I say?
Mercy in his hart is ay,
To ressaue all that him prayis.
Now is he cummyng in our paleis,
322
To asseage vs on this maneir,
Bot we sall gar him gang his gait,
Or repent him may fall to lait!
On tyisday sall the battell be,
Quhair men the worthy weill may se!
Thair may worthy, gif thay will,
Fall great worship weill thame till!”
“Chylder,” said Cassamus the hare,
“(Sa God himselfe me keip fra care!)
I am ane man of mekill eild,
And thinkis to abyde in the feild,
And mony ane strake stryke, I wis.
Than byrd ȝow weill that ioly is,
Ȝong, stalwart and michty,
In soiurne nurist nobilly,
Wele ioyus in armes and drowry!
Lordingis deir, to ȝow I say
Worship ȝow summondis on tyisday
To put ȝour bodeis to assay,
In bath of sueit and swordis hewin,
And sturde stokking and stampin.
Thare sall worship hald court, I hecht,
And deme honour euin to the richt,
With hardement, counsell and vigour;
Thare sall men se quha ȝarnis honour!
And we aucht wele, baith men and page,
Gang to defend our heritage,
That Clarus wald haue with maistry,
For he hes fundin [vs] anerly
Forouttin lord, but vther skill
But succudry and his will.
323
And to ȝow lordis, great and small,
And Alexander the nobill King,
That bringis heir in our helping
Mony ane gentill knicht, I wis.
Ga we and meit thame with Ioy and blis.
Quhare weilcum be he in this toun!”—
Than ȝeid thay all agane him doun.
Doun of the palace Iupiter
The barronis ischit in fare affere,
That glaid and ioly was and gay.
Togidder hand in hand ȝeid thay,
Singand and carraland iolely
Of Alexanderis cheualry,
How he wan Daurus and Nicholas
And mony vthir seimly place.
Before the auld tempill Venus
Thay met the King, carraland thus,
Amang his men that worthy war.
Great honour ilkane can him bare,
And profferit him courtasly
Baith body and gudis halely.
Said Alexander, “grant mercyis!
Ȝe sall wel wit on quhat kin wys,
Or I pas hyne, how it me noyis
That Clarus this ȝour land destroyis!”
“Schir,” said the fare dam Fezonas,
“His mycht great marring to vs mais!”
“Fare,” said the King, “mysmay ȝow nocht!
I knaw that ald, in deid and thocht,
Weill far better than ȝe do.
He is baith fell and cruell to;
That is weill by the countre sene,
324
“The skaith is great,” said Cassamus,
“Bot I trow to our God Marcus
That it sall sone redressit be,
Gif God thame sauis that I heir se!”
“Ȝa, schir, gif God will!” said the King,
And with that word baith auld and ȝing
Ressauit him full richely.
The madinnis inclynnit to him courtasly,
And syne of erlis, barrouns and knychtis
He was honorit with all thare mychtis.
The King in to the palace come,
That of storys of Troy and Rome
Was porturit clenly, and Intermellit
With gold that was weill anamalit:
How that destroyit was the toune
And stollin the paleadione,
And how the Grecians destroyit ware;
All this halely was pantyt thare.
The King beheld the panting fast;
On silkin carpettis at the last
He sat, and gart vnarme him syne,
Amang the ladeis fare and fyne.
Alexander the King sa kene
Was set on silkin carpettis schene
Amang madinnys that war Ioly,
And playit with thame Iolely.
On athir half sat Emynedoune,
Festioun, Tholomere and Lyoun;
The vthir barronis sat on the grene.
The King tuke Fezonas the schene
By the hand, and lufsumly
Said, “madame, I wald blythly
Wit quhat thow thinkis, gif it mocht be!”
“Schir,” said the fair maydin fre,
“I thocht, gif that it be ȝour will,
Of auld Clarus, that loud and still
Vs weiris and destroyis our land.”
Said Alexander, “I tak on hand,
War tyisday cummin, thow sall se
Vs wele vengit of his cruelte!”
“The mekill God,” said Cassamus,
“Mot ȝeild ȝow, shir, that ȝe say thus!”
“Cassamus,” said the King, “parde,
I haue great ȝarning for to se
Him that sua rusis my sword to reif,
Maugre myne, out of my neif.
He manassis richt hie, gif I dar say!”
“Schir,” said Floridas, “perfay,
Gif I dremit sa hie ane thing,
Quhill I leif, suld I haue resting?”
Said Alexander, “freind, gif I
Micht with auyse be sa worthy
As he is, I wald ask na mare!”
“Schir,” said Cassamus the hare,
“Gif that ȝour lyking be,
To-morne heir ȝe sall him se,
For thay haue vndertane the way.”
“That is wele,” said the King, “perfay!”
“Or the morne at euin,” said Cassamus,
“Ȝe sall the Bauderane and Porrus
Se heirin, for the trewis ar tane
Quhill monunday, that day be gane.”
Said Alexander, “it lykes me
That it be sa, for I sall se
Him that sall me reif my brand,
Maugre myne, out of my hand!
Quhat sall thay thairof say or deme
That hes my brydill for to ȝeme?
Of my-selfe I will nocht say!
I wait nocht of the deid, perfay,
Bot the wordis ar haltane!”
“Schir,” said Caulus “(sa God me sane!)
He sall leif his helme of steill,
Thocht it be fesnit neuer sa weill,
Or rug his heid of, or I rest,
Or ellis myne armes sall all to-brest!”
Than leuch thay all and maid sporting.
“Caulus, weill worth the!” said the King.
Of that quhilk Caulus said, I wis,
The Kingis hart reioysit is.
In ioy, gamming and solais,
And in lyking, the day our-gais;
The Grecians past fast our Pharoun
In botes and galayis to the toun,
And the King playit with Ideas
And with the menssinger of Teras,
Was to him send be Candas the Quene.
Syne ȝeid thay and sat on seages grene.
Efter the ches play that the King
Had playit with Perdicas the ȝing,
Thair was the Bauderane thocht on wele,
How that Fesonas, the fare to fele,
Said he sould meat be in the store;
The King maid mekill myrth thairfore,
And leuch and playit with gammin and blis,
And [she] ane party shamit is.
Was set on silkin carpettis schene
Amang madinnys that war Ioly,
And playit with thame Iolely.
On athir half sat Emynedoune,
Festioun, Tholomere and Lyoun;
The vthir barronis sat on the grene.
The King tuke Fezonas the schene
By the hand, and lufsumly
Said, “madame, I wald blythly
325
“Schir,” said the fair maydin fre,
“I thocht, gif that it be ȝour will,
Of auld Clarus, that loud and still
Vs weiris and destroyis our land.”
Said Alexander, “I tak on hand,
War tyisday cummin, thow sall se
Vs wele vengit of his cruelte!”
“The mekill God,” said Cassamus,
“Mot ȝeild ȝow, shir, that ȝe say thus!”
“Cassamus,” said the King, “parde,
I haue great ȝarning for to se
Him that sua rusis my sword to reif,
Maugre myne, out of my neif.
He manassis richt hie, gif I dar say!”
“Schir,” said Floridas, “perfay,
Gif I dremit sa hie ane thing,
Quhill I leif, suld I haue resting?”
Said Alexander, “freind, gif I
Micht with auyse be sa worthy
As he is, I wald ask na mare!”
“Schir,” said Cassamus the hare,
“Gif that ȝour lyking be,
To-morne heir ȝe sall him se,
For thay haue vndertane the way.”
“That is wele,” said the King, “perfay!”
“Or the morne at euin,” said Cassamus,
“Ȝe sall the Bauderane and Porrus
Se heirin, for the trewis ar tane
Quhill monunday, that day be gane.”
Said Alexander, “it lykes me
That it be sa, for I sall se
326
Maugre myne, out of my hand!
Quhat sall thay thairof say or deme
That hes my brydill for to ȝeme?
Of my-selfe I will nocht say!
I wait nocht of the deid, perfay,
Bot the wordis ar haltane!”
“Schir,” said Caulus “(sa God me sane!)
He sall leif his helme of steill,
Thocht it be fesnit neuer sa weill,
Or rug his heid of, or I rest,
Or ellis myne armes sall all to-brest!”
Than leuch thay all and maid sporting.
“Caulus, weill worth the!” said the King.
Of that quhilk Caulus said, I wis,
The Kingis hart reioysit is.
In ioy, gamming and solais,
And in lyking, the day our-gais;
The Grecians past fast our Pharoun
In botes and galayis to the toun,
And the King playit with Ideas
And with the menssinger of Teras,
Was to him send be Candas the Quene.
Syne ȝeid thay and sat on seages grene.
Efter the ches play that the King
Had playit with Perdicas the ȝing,
Thair was the Bauderane thocht on wele,
How that Fesonas, the fare to fele,
Said he sould meat be in the store;
The King maid mekill myrth thairfore,
And leuch and playit with gammin and blis,
And [she] ane party shamit is.
327
Vpone the morne the gude King rais,
Baith erlis and barrounis with him gais
To tempill Diane for to pray;
Thair orysounis thairin maid thay.
Bot or thay war cummin agane,
Was cummin Porrus and the Bauderane
And Marciane of Pers, I wis.
The King cummin fra the tempill is,
And hes sene tha fallowis thre.
To Cassamus alssone said he,
“I haue na knawledge of ȝon men!”
Said Cassamus, “ȝe sall thame ken!”
Quod Cassamus, “now may ȝe se
Him that, throw his great bounte,
Sall reif ȝour sword of ȝour hand.
Lo ȝonder formest rydand!
And the tother is Porrus that sall
Beat and discumfit the great battall,
And stryke great strakis amang the men.
The thrid fallow is Marcien,
That of ressoun and wit, I wis,
And of worship, wele warnist is.”
Said Alexander, “(sa God me se!)
Thay ar fare bachleiris all thre,
And for the worship wele the mare
Baith to lufe and loif thay ar,
For thay ar mekill and manly and wicht,
The hardyest byrd dreid thair micht.
God gif it had coste me, of myne,
Ten thousand mark of syluer fyne
And alsmekill gold, with-thy that thay
My freindis war, haldand thair fay!
I had mare winnen than micht be tald!
With-thy the goddis sa help me wald
That I with my honour micht
Eschape on tyisday the ficht,
Of Clarus gude I bad na mare,
Bot accord with tha knichtis thare!”
As the King with his douzepeiris
Spak to honour the bachleiris,
Blythly lichted thay ilkane,
And fra thame hes thair swordis tane.
The Bauderane befoir his fallowis ȝeid,
And saluted the King on Grecians leid,
That wele couth speke and wittely,
Loutit and inclynit courtasly.
The King ansuered with lufsum cheir,
“Lordingis, and I micht meit ȝow heir
In sic manere that of amour,
And of armes ȝow doubillis honour!
And God grant that I may ryse
On tyisday on sik ane wyse
That I my body and my brand
May keip vnreft out of my hand!”
Sum dele ashamed was the Bauderane
And changit hewis, and said agane
Full sempilly, but affraying,
“Gud shir, that may helpe na thing!
Men worthis avow for ladyes deir
And put thair bodeis in perrellis seir,
To fynis and fulfill his deid,
And nouther leif it for deid na dreid.”
“Harrow!” said Alexander, “now I se
That, betuene lufe and ladyes fre,
I am in euenture for to by
Thair gammis and thair droury!
Now ga we eit, for tyme is neir,
Quhair welcum be ȝe alwayis heir!”
Baith erlis and barrounis with him gais
To tempill Diane for to pray;
Thair orysounis thairin maid thay.
Bot or thay war cummin agane,
Was cummin Porrus and the Bauderane
And Marciane of Pers, I wis.
The King cummin fra the tempill is,
And hes sene tha fallowis thre.
To Cassamus alssone said he,
“I haue na knawledge of ȝon men!”
Said Cassamus, “ȝe sall thame ken!”
Quod Cassamus, “now may ȝe se
Him that, throw his great bounte,
Sall reif ȝour sword of ȝour hand.
Lo ȝonder formest rydand!
And the tother is Porrus that sall
Beat and discumfit the great battall,
And stryke great strakis amang the men.
The thrid fallow is Marcien,
That of ressoun and wit, I wis,
And of worship, wele warnist is.”
Said Alexander, “(sa God me se!)
Thay ar fare bachleiris all thre,
And for the worship wele the mare
Baith to lufe and loif thay ar,
For thay ar mekill and manly and wicht,
The hardyest byrd dreid thair micht.
God gif it had coste me, of myne,
Ten thousand mark of syluer fyne
And alsmekill gold, with-thy that thay
My freindis war, haldand thair fay!
328
With-thy the goddis sa help me wald
That I with my honour micht
Eschape on tyisday the ficht,
Of Clarus gude I bad na mare,
Bot accord with tha knichtis thare!”
As the King with his douzepeiris
Spak to honour the bachleiris,
Blythly lichted thay ilkane,
And fra thame hes thair swordis tane.
The Bauderane befoir his fallowis ȝeid,
And saluted the King on Grecians leid,
That wele couth speke and wittely,
Loutit and inclynit courtasly.
The King ansuered with lufsum cheir,
“Lordingis, and I micht meit ȝow heir
In sic manere that of amour,
And of armes ȝow doubillis honour!
And God grant that I may ryse
On tyisday on sik ane wyse
That I my body and my brand
May keip vnreft out of my hand!”
Sum dele ashamed was the Bauderane
And changit hewis, and said agane
Full sempilly, but affraying,
“Gud shir, that may helpe na thing!
Men worthis avow for ladyes deir
And put thair bodeis in perrellis seir,
To fynis and fulfill his deid,
And nouther leif it for deid na dreid.”
“Harrow!” said Alexander, “now I se
That, betuene lufe and ladyes fre,
329
Thair gammis and thair droury!
Now ga we eit, for tyme is neir,
Quhair welcum be ȝe alwayis heir!”
Alexander gentill was and fre,
To Porrus than oft lukit he,
That mekill was and manly made,
Broun crisp hare on his heid he hade,
With coist as Lyoun bald to fecht,
And stout visage to se be licht;
He thocht he was, of all fassoun,
Lyke to his eme, the King Pirroun,
Be ressoun byrd him be hardy,
Stark, staluart and sturdy;
And lukit syne to Emynedus
And, lauchand, syne he said him thus,
All preuelly, that nane micht heir:
“Beaushir, to meit ȝon bachleir
Is nocht thy prowe, [I] vnderstand!
He avowis to win Ferrand!”
The duke ansuered with hardy cheir,
“Ȝit am I (lofe God!) haill and feir
And, thocht he mannas me on fer,
That fall may I sall do him war!”
Thusgait spekand to and fra,
To palyce Iupiter thay ga.
Into the palyce Iupitere,
That cleinly caruin was, but weir,
And adorned with riche stones,
Iasp, Beriall and Sardonis,
The King come with his knichtis all,
In his estate emperyall;
The maydinnis cled war in veluet.
Thay couered burds and opnit the ȝet;
The King askit water, and men him brocht,
In Basynes that war craftely wrocht
Of Emeraudes and rid rubeis.
Quhen he had weshin vpone this wys,
The Bauderane syne callit he,
And said, “shir, ȝe sall sit by me,
As worthy, luffis in laute fyne,
And ȝonder Porrus, ȝour cousyne,
Sall sit besyde dame Fesonas,
Syne Marciane and Ideas!”
Thay said ilkane, “shir, at ȝour will!
Ȝour commandement we sall fulfill!”
With his word, thay war set all suyth
In Iupiters palace, glaid and blyth.
Thar war in that cumpany
Bot thay seuyne allanerly.
At vther burdis thay war set
Of Grece and Calde, at the mete.
Gaudefere and Betys his brother
Seruit, with thair men, ane and vther;
Of ioy fulfillit war thay iolely,
Amang thame was great senȝeory.
That crouned King that I of mene,
Is set doun on carpettis clene,
And callit to him the presoneris tua,
And Marciane of Pers alsua,
And Fesonas, the fare of face,
And Idorus and Ideas,
And gart thame sit intermelle
On carpettis that was fare to se.
Thare was na speke of velany,
Bot of armes and droury,
And of bounte and rich guerdoun,
That lufe geuis quhen him thinkis sesoun;
Amang thame spak thay commonly,
For thay durst nocht priualy,
For the King, that thare was, of renoun,
As wald his reuerence, throw ressoun.
To Porrus than oft lukit he,
That mekill was and manly made,
Broun crisp hare on his heid he hade,
With coist as Lyoun bald to fecht,
And stout visage to se be licht;
He thocht he was, of all fassoun,
Lyke to his eme, the King Pirroun,
Be ressoun byrd him be hardy,
Stark, staluart and sturdy;
And lukit syne to Emynedus
And, lauchand, syne he said him thus,
All preuelly, that nane micht heir:
“Beaushir, to meit ȝon bachleir
Is nocht thy prowe, [I] vnderstand!
He avowis to win Ferrand!”
The duke ansuered with hardy cheir,
“Ȝit am I (lofe God!) haill and feir
And, thocht he mannas me on fer,
That fall may I sall do him war!”
Thusgait spekand to and fra,
To palyce Iupiter thay ga.
Into the palyce Iupitere,
That cleinly caruin was, but weir,
And adorned with riche stones,
Iasp, Beriall and Sardonis,
The King come with his knichtis all,
In his estate emperyall;
330
Thay couered burds and opnit the ȝet;
The King askit water, and men him brocht,
In Basynes that war craftely wrocht
Of Emeraudes and rid rubeis.
Quhen he had weshin vpone this wys,
The Bauderane syne callit he,
And said, “shir, ȝe sall sit by me,
As worthy, luffis in laute fyne,
And ȝonder Porrus, ȝour cousyne,
Sall sit besyde dame Fesonas,
Syne Marciane and Ideas!”
Thay said ilkane, “shir, at ȝour will!
Ȝour commandement we sall fulfill!”
With his word, thay war set all suyth
In Iupiters palace, glaid and blyth.
Thar war in that cumpany
Bot thay seuyne allanerly.
At vther burdis thay war set
Of Grece and Calde, at the mete.
Gaudefere and Betys his brother
Seruit, with thair men, ane and vther;
Of ioy fulfillit war thay iolely,
Amang thame was great senȝeory.
That crouned King that I of mene,
Is set doun on carpettis clene,
And callit to him the presoneris tua,
And Marciane of Pers alsua,
And Fesonas, the fare of face,
And Idorus and Ideas,
And gart thame sit intermelle
On carpettis that was fare to se.
331
Bot of armes and droury,
And of bounte and rich guerdoun,
That lufe geuis quhen him thinkis sesoun;
Amang thame spak thay commonly,
For thay durst nocht priualy,
For the King, that thare was, of renoun,
As wald his reuerence, throw ressoun.
Qvhen thay had drukin, eftir the speke,
The King rais and [his] knychtis eik,
And callit Cassamus and Betys,
Gaudefeir als and vthir of prys;
Into the paleis vndir the tour
He callit his men of great valour,
To vmbecast quhat sould cum eft.
The laif war in the chalmer left,
To speke and play; quha thare had bene
Amang that mirth, thay mycht haue sene
Ilkane draw to vthir neir
With sueit blenkis and siching seir.
Marciane than said thame to,
“Lordingis, here haue I nocht ado!
I am bot feir, I can nocht play!”
“Beaushir,” said Idorus the gay,
“And I am myne allane, I wis!
And maydin that to mary is
Bird wele to wis sik ane to haue!”
Said Marciane, “(sa God me saue!)
Ȝe haue better, and mare to pryse
Baith hyne and heir, on alkin wyse!
He was with me ane lytill thraw;
Sa mekill in him thare I saw
That he na sould, as me think, parde,
For na man leuand changit be!
Be God, me leuer war I mocht
Resembill him in deid and thocht,
And be richt sic ane as he is,
Than haue half-deill this warld, I wis!”
“Certis,” said Porrus, “I dar say
That men bird dout him weill avay
In great battale, I tak on hand,
Mare than of vtheris ane thousand!”
Thay held speke thusgatis of Betys,
And of amouris mony wys,
Bot I na wait, bot as lufe kennys
And ȝarnyng leris and lyking lennys,
For quhen luffaris in lufe ar tane
And thay haue laser thame allane,
Thay find to speker new speche ay
And bot ane quhyle mais ane day.
Sa sure is of thir merry men,
Bot thay had spokin bot lytill then
Quhen the King had tane counsale
To fecht on tysday foroutin faill.
The King rais and [his] knychtis eik,
And callit Cassamus and Betys,
Gaudefeir als and vthir of prys;
Into the paleis vndir the tour
He callit his men of great valour,
To vmbecast quhat sould cum eft.
The laif war in the chalmer left,
To speke and play; quha thare had bene
Amang that mirth, thay mycht haue sene
Ilkane draw to vthir neir
With sueit blenkis and siching seir.
Marciane than said thame to,
“Lordingis, here haue I nocht ado!
I am bot feir, I can nocht play!”
“Beaushir,” said Idorus the gay,
“And I am myne allane, I wis!
And maydin that to mary is
Bird wele to wis sik ane to haue!”
Said Marciane, “(sa God me saue!)
Ȝe haue better, and mare to pryse
Baith hyne and heir, on alkin wyse!
He was with me ane lytill thraw;
Sa mekill in him thare I saw
332
For na man leuand changit be!
Be God, me leuer war I mocht
Resembill him in deid and thocht,
And be richt sic ane as he is,
Than haue half-deill this warld, I wis!”
“Certis,” said Porrus, “I dar say
That men bird dout him weill avay
In great battale, I tak on hand,
Mare than of vtheris ane thousand!”
Thay held speke thusgatis of Betys,
And of amouris mony wys,
Bot I na wait, bot as lufe kennys
And ȝarnyng leris and lyking lennys,
For quhen luffaris in lufe ar tane
And thay haue laser thame allane,
Thay find to speker new speche ay
And bot ane quhyle mais ane day.
Sa sure is of thir merry men,
Bot thay had spokin bot lytill then
Quhen the King had tane counsale
To fecht on tysday foroutin faill.
Qvhen the king this counsale had tane,
To Venus chalmer is he gane.
Arreste followit and Caulus,
Gaudefeir, Betys and Cassamus.
Agane thame rais all that thare war;
Emynedus spak and wald nocht spare,
“Lordingis and vassellis, to ȝow I say,
Vthir think nane nor on tysday
To fecht, or fle aluterly,
Or ellis to cum heir to mercy!
Sa mon it be, quha euir be wraith!”
And Marciane said to him raith,
“Schir, to ansuer to that resoun
Myne Eme is puruait, the King Claroun,
That with ane houndreth thousand scheildis
On tysday sall we tak the feildis.
I wait nocht quha be dede or tane,
Bot this empryse beis vnder-tane!”
Said Alexander, “now be it sa!”
Than can he of the chalmer ga.
To Venus chalmer is he gane.
Arreste followit and Caulus,
Gaudefeir, Betys and Cassamus.
Agane thame rais all that thare war;
Emynedus spak and wald nocht spare,
“Lordingis and vassellis, to ȝow I say,
Vthir think nane nor on tysday
To fecht, or fle aluterly,
Or ellis to cum heir to mercy!
333
And Marciane said to him raith,
“Schir, to ansuer to that resoun
Myne Eme is puruait, the King Claroun,
That with ane houndreth thousand scheildis
On tysday sall we tak the feildis.
I wait nocht quha be dede or tane,
Bot this empryse beis vnder-tane!”
Said Alexander, “now be it sa!”
Than can he of the chalmer ga.
The King is to the palace gane,
Quhare-in thare was neuer ane stane
Na the worst was precious.
Thare followit him fast out of the hous
The folk that hardy was and gude,
That better luffit fecht than fisch the flude.
Thare armour ȝeid thay for to se,
To help that nedit for that melle;
Tothir still in the chalmer is,
Ay tua and tua held spek, I wys.
Porrus beheld to Fezony,
And saw hir fetas and Ioly,
Ȝing and fare, of simpill manere,
Priually he said, “my deir,
Baith body and hart I gif ȝow till,
With gude intent and nocht with Ill.”
“Schir,” said that schene full courtasly,
“I ressaue it aluterly,
Baith the knycht and the fare prayere!
I sall haue nane vthir, nowthir hyne na heir!”
Now Porrus hes his ȝarnyng all,
Lady and lemman, gent and small.
Wist his father how he had wrocht,
That ilk day deir it sould be bocht,
Bot he sall wit tharof na deill,
Fra him it sall be helit weill.
The Bauderane can to Porrus say,
Lauchand, “schir, sall we wend our way?
Haue we spokin nocht ȝit our fill?”
“Ȝa,” said Porrus, “quhen ȝe will!”
Thay went furth, quhen thay leuit war
With mad murning and sichingis sare.
Amang thame four thay suore and hecht,
I na wait quhat, be God of mycht!
Out the chalmer thay went in hy,
And met the King delyuerly,
Amang his men that maist war prysit.
Said Alexander, “quhidder ar ȝe auysit?”
“With ȝour leif, schir, will we fare!”
And he thame gaif thare leif richt thare;
Thay loutit to him and ȝeid thare gait,
Cassamus led thame to the ȝet,
Alsua Arreste and Gaudefeir,
And Betys, that was fare and fere.
Thay went furth to thare pauilloun,
And thay agane went to the toun.
The King askit Cassamus als fast,
“Ar thay of Inde thare wais past?”
“Ȝa, schir,” said Cassamus, “parde,
Thay may now neir thare menȝe be!”
Said Alexander, “sa God me mend!
Gif that thay weill may bring to end
Thair vowes, thay sall weill honorit be!”
Antigonus than cryit he,
And lukit to Emynedus,
And, lauchand, to him said he thus,
“Hes thow Ferrandis maister sene,
And gif he had wonnin bene?”
“Ȝa,” said the duke, “and wonder weill
Behaldin him (sa haue I seill!).
Gif euer I knew man or wyfe,
He is staluart in ilka stryfe,
And of outtragious hardement,
Bot I haue dout, (sa God me ment!)
That ȝour suord beis nocht in sauete
All hale, bot gif ȝour armes be
Stark and ȝour neiffis closed weill!
Ȝour Gissarne sall ȝow helpe na deill,
That at ȝour arsoun hingand is!”
Said Caulus, “(sa haue I blis!)
Spokin thairof sa mekill haue we,
I dreid we ȝit reprouit be!”
Said Alexander, “weill may fall,
Bot this ane thing conforts vs all
That it alwayis sall cum to me
That God hes damned in destane!”
That bourd or it be assayit,
The Indeans sall be full affrayit.
Quhair the King thus can bourd and play,
The barrounis raid thair hey way
To Clarus tent, and lichted thair.
Amang thame rais the harrot hare,
Feistand thame with nobill cheir,
“Lordingis,” said Clarus, “I wald heir
Ȝon Kingis cumming that leifis on pray.
For pouerty makes he sik deray!”
“Schir, be the faith I to ȝow aw,”
Said Porrus, “efter that I can knaw,
Sik ane to my sicht thair is cummine
That I can nocht tell na deuine,
For he is hardy, gud and gay,
And ferly fare, forout affray;
Bot thay ar nocht, forouttin wene,
Sa mony as I wenit thay had bene,
For, quha wald tell all thair menȝe,
Ma I trow thare sould nocht be
[Than] thretty thousand of all kin men.”
“Perfay, me think,” said Clarus then,
“That ȝon fals King dois great foly
To put him-selfe in Ieopardy,
With sa quhene that may nocht be
Ane denner to my great menȝe!
Ȝon wrangus couating of gude,
It byrd shent all that sa gais wod.
Thay salbe venged, gif I dar say,
That he disherist mony ane day.
All this warld him hates, I hecht,
Als fer as he vmbesettis richt!”
Clarus all thusgate said his will,
Bot nane consentand was him till.
Than Marciane said, that all micht heir,
“Fare sueit eme, I wald ȝe were
Richt sik as he is (sa God me blis!).
Amend ȝour lyfe and leif him his,
For ȝe ar war than I dar say!”
Than was thare nane that thay na pray
For Marciane all preuelly,
And said amang thame commonly,
“Marciane gais the suithfast gait!
He is nocht lyke sum that I wait,
That sayis, ‘my lord sayis richt weill,’
And assentis to his will ilk deill!”
Clarus vox rid for shame in hy,
For he wist weill and witterly
That his cousing the suith can say.
He said na word, nouther ‘ȝe’ nor ‘nay.’
To his eme wele spak Marcien,
And Clarus rais amang his men
And, lauchand, said, “my cousing here
Hes said me suith, forouttin were.
Now be nocht wraith, for all sall weill
Amendit be euer ilk deill,
The richt auansit, wrang away!”
“In thanke we tak it, shir!” said thay,
“And we sall serue ȝow with gude will,
In vs ȝe sall neuer find ill!”
With that word thay haue wonnen, I wis,
Ma freinds than Alexander and his,
Of men quhen thay sall armit be.
“Lordingis, mekill thank!” said he.
“Now pray I that ȝour geir be dicht
And ȝour hors shod all at richt,
To-morne all hale and monunday
That ȝe be reddy, but delay,
Sa that on tyisday I will airly
We be on hors all halely,
Armit with speiris and with blasounis,
Ane lytill outwith the pauilliouns,
The standart dressed vp of Inde,
That Gaudefere it varnist finde!”
Than cryis Indeanis, “or it be fellit,
Mony ane Calde thair sall be quhellit!”
Thus said the folk in to that place.
And thay that beȝond Pharoun was,
To the roch and the riuer braid
Thay had passit, maid thay na baid,
Sa that, or sounday was all gane,
Attour thay passit war euir ilkane.
Quhen thay of Grece had passit the Phare
And cummin within the citie war,
Ane great semble thare was sene.
Thare was ten thousand knychtis kene,
The nobill King to se thame gais,
And in his hart great lyking hes
Of thare fare fere, forout affray.
He thocht, and to himself couth say,
That in the warld, als far as men wait,
Mycht nane be gottin that mycht thame mait.
That day thay restit and that nycht,
Quhill on the morne that day was lycht.
Quhare-in thare was neuer ane stane
Na the worst was precious.
Thare followit him fast out of the hous
The folk that hardy was and gude,
That better luffit fecht than fisch the flude.
Thare armour ȝeid thay for to se,
To help that nedit for that melle;
Tothir still in the chalmer is,
Ay tua and tua held spek, I wys.
Porrus beheld to Fezony,
And saw hir fetas and Ioly,
Ȝing and fare, of simpill manere,
Priually he said, “my deir,
Baith body and hart I gif ȝow till,
With gude intent and nocht with Ill.”
“Schir,” said that schene full courtasly,
“I ressaue it aluterly,
Baith the knycht and the fare prayere!
I sall haue nane vthir, nowthir hyne na heir!”
Now Porrus hes his ȝarnyng all,
Lady and lemman, gent and small.
334
That ilk day deir it sould be bocht,
Bot he sall wit tharof na deill,
Fra him it sall be helit weill.
The Bauderane can to Porrus say,
Lauchand, “schir, sall we wend our way?
Haue we spokin nocht ȝit our fill?”
“Ȝa,” said Porrus, “quhen ȝe will!”
Thay went furth, quhen thay leuit war
With mad murning and sichingis sare.
Amang thame four thay suore and hecht,
I na wait quhat, be God of mycht!
Out the chalmer thay went in hy,
And met the King delyuerly,
Amang his men that maist war prysit.
Said Alexander, “quhidder ar ȝe auysit?”
“With ȝour leif, schir, will we fare!”
And he thame gaif thare leif richt thare;
Thay loutit to him and ȝeid thare gait,
Cassamus led thame to the ȝet,
Alsua Arreste and Gaudefeir,
And Betys, that was fare and fere.
Thay went furth to thare pauilloun,
And thay agane went to the toun.
The King askit Cassamus als fast,
“Ar thay of Inde thare wais past?”
“Ȝa, schir,” said Cassamus, “parde,
Thay may now neir thare menȝe be!”
Said Alexander, “sa God me mend!
Gif that thay weill may bring to end
Thair vowes, thay sall weill honorit be!”
Antigonus than cryit he,
335
And, lauchand, to him said he thus,
“Hes thow Ferrandis maister sene,
And gif he had wonnin bene?”
“Ȝa,” said the duke, “and wonder weill
Behaldin him (sa haue I seill!).
Gif euer I knew man or wyfe,
He is staluart in ilka stryfe,
And of outtragious hardement,
Bot I haue dout, (sa God me ment!)
That ȝour suord beis nocht in sauete
All hale, bot gif ȝour armes be
Stark and ȝour neiffis closed weill!
Ȝour Gissarne sall ȝow helpe na deill,
That at ȝour arsoun hingand is!”
Said Caulus, “(sa haue I blis!)
Spokin thairof sa mekill haue we,
I dreid we ȝit reprouit be!”
Said Alexander, “weill may fall,
Bot this ane thing conforts vs all
That it alwayis sall cum to me
That God hes damned in destane!”
That bourd or it be assayit,
The Indeans sall be full affrayit.
Quhair the King thus can bourd and play,
The barrounis raid thair hey way
To Clarus tent, and lichted thair.
Amang thame rais the harrot hare,
Feistand thame with nobill cheir,
“Lordingis,” said Clarus, “I wald heir
Ȝon Kingis cumming that leifis on pray.
For pouerty makes he sik deray!”
336
Said Porrus, “efter that I can knaw,
Sik ane to my sicht thair is cummine
That I can nocht tell na deuine,
For he is hardy, gud and gay,
And ferly fare, forout affray;
Bot thay ar nocht, forouttin wene,
Sa mony as I wenit thay had bene,
For, quha wald tell all thair menȝe,
Ma I trow thare sould nocht be
[Than] thretty thousand of all kin men.”
“Perfay, me think,” said Clarus then,
“That ȝon fals King dois great foly
To put him-selfe in Ieopardy,
With sa quhene that may nocht be
Ane denner to my great menȝe!
Ȝon wrangus couating of gude,
It byrd shent all that sa gais wod.
Thay salbe venged, gif I dar say,
That he disherist mony ane day.
All this warld him hates, I hecht,
Als fer as he vmbesettis richt!”
Clarus all thusgate said his will,
Bot nane consentand was him till.
Than Marciane said, that all micht heir,
“Fare sueit eme, I wald ȝe were
Richt sik as he is (sa God me blis!).
Amend ȝour lyfe and leif him his,
For ȝe ar war than I dar say!”
Than was thare nane that thay na pray
For Marciane all preuelly,
And said amang thame commonly,
337
He is nocht lyke sum that I wait,
That sayis, ‘my lord sayis richt weill,’
And assentis to his will ilk deill!”
Clarus vox rid for shame in hy,
For he wist weill and witterly
That his cousing the suith can say.
He said na word, nouther ‘ȝe’ nor ‘nay.’
To his eme wele spak Marcien,
And Clarus rais amang his men
And, lauchand, said, “my cousing here
Hes said me suith, forouttin were.
Now be nocht wraith, for all sall weill
Amendit be euer ilk deill,
The richt auansit, wrang away!”
“In thanke we tak it, shir!” said thay,
“And we sall serue ȝow with gude will,
In vs ȝe sall neuer find ill!”
With that word thay haue wonnen, I wis,
Ma freinds than Alexander and his,
Of men quhen thay sall armit be.
“Lordingis, mekill thank!” said he.
“Now pray I that ȝour geir be dicht
And ȝour hors shod all at richt,
To-morne all hale and monunday
That ȝe be reddy, but delay,
Sa that on tyisday I will airly
We be on hors all halely,
Armit with speiris and with blasounis,
Ane lytill outwith the pauilliouns,
The standart dressed vp of Inde,
That Gaudefere it varnist finde!”
338
Mony ane Calde thair sall be quhellit!”
Thus said the folk in to that place.
And thay that beȝond Pharoun was,
To the roch and the riuer braid
Thay had passit, maid thay na baid,
Sa that, or sounday was all gane,
Attour thay passit war euir ilkane.
Quhen thay of Grece had passit the Phare
And cummin within the citie war,
Ane great semble thare was sene.
Thare was ten thousand knychtis kene,
The nobill King to se thame gais,
And in his hart great lyking hes
Of thare fare fere, forout affray.
He thocht, and to himself couth say,
That in the warld, als far as men wait,
Mycht nane be gottin that mycht thame mait.
That day thay restit and that nycht,
Quhill on the morne that day was lycht.
Vpone the morne on mononday,
The wedder was fare, as I hard say,
And in gude tyme the nobill King
Rais, and him claid in rich clething.
About him his priue men,
In the hall ar thay cummyng then,
That with grene iasp all pantit was,
Dyaparty weill fra place to place.
Into ane wyndo he beheld
The oist that all our-spred the feild.
With that, come Cassamus the feir,
Gaudefeir and his brother deir;
Thare was of Grece and of Calde
Mony barroun of great bounte.
Before the King, into the hall,
The peiris of Grece war gadderit all,
That was sa stout and sa hardy.
And he thame said full lufsumly,
“Lordingis, ane hundreth thousand syce
I thank ȝow of ȝour lele seruyce,
Bot now is doubled the mystere.
Lo! the oist of Inde before vs here,
Quhare mare ryches and treasure is
Than Daurus leuit, and all his!
Thairfore, Lordingis, I say ȝow to
That quha-sa with michty hes ado,
Sould first couit to win honour,
And syne the siluer and the treasour.
Quha winnis the honour, the laif is his,
And quha first ȝarnis the gude, I wis,
Honour and body, I warne ȝow weill,
He leissis all euer ilka deil.
For couatyse vpon this wyse
Reiffis haly that to honour lyis.
Bot we haue bene fortherwart thairof;
Thairfore our goddis haue the loif.
The morne sall the great battell be,
For-thy suld we puruey and se
How that we wyisly micht tailȝe,
And keip vs fra this great battailȝe.
Ane man me tald, bot short quhyle ere,
How thay deuysit of thare affere:
Sax battellis haue thay made, I hecht,
And to ilkane gude chiftane and wicht.
Porrus sall haue the first escheill,
And the Bauderane, that wait I weill,
Sall haue the tothir in leding;
Him bird be hardy attour all thing
Sen he halely in lufe is laucht.
Caneus, as the man me thaucht,
Sall haue the thrid to keip and lede,
And Caleos, that is gude at neid,
Sall haue the ferd, [and] Salphadyne
Sall lede the last battale syne.
Clarus sall cum behynd thame sa,
On athir hand he garris thame ga.
I wait nocht, bot disagysitly
Than hes he ordanit thame halely,
Baith his battelis and his stering.”
Said Cassamus, “be heuinnis King,
He dois wysly, for, sic ane scheild,
He garris his men our-tak the feild.”
He rais on his feit and stude,
And said [to] Cassamus the gude,
“Beauschir, hald the by vs neir,
And ken vs quhen thow seis mister!
Thow hes in mony bargane bene,
And mekill can, and mare hes sene!
To-morne, gif God will, we sall fecht.
Now help God for his mekill mycht!
To-nycht at euin the trew sall faill,
Tharefore I rede, and geuis counsale,
That we thair-out ly all this nycht,
Ilk man armyt all at richt,
Sa that we be on our best wyse
Buskit, or that the sone begin to ryse.
To ly heir it war nyste,
For gif Clarus thairof micht se”
Said Cassamus, “ȝe say richt wele,
And sa sall done be ilka dele!
Now is it tyme that we deuyse
Our battellis and on quhat-kin wyse
That ȝe will ordour ȝour menȝe.
And gif vs, gif ȝour willis be,
The first battell, for the steir
Is ouris, that all wait baith far and neir!”
Emynedus said, “sa may nocht fall!
Ȝe saw Porrus, before ȝow all,
Hecht he suld reif me my steid;
Betuix the battellis sould this deid
Be done; thairfore me think skill
It sould be myne!”—“I grant thair till!”
Said Cassamus, “for in ȝour bounte
Soueranely affy I me!”
The King about lukit and saw
His princes and barrouns standand on raw,
That oft in battell and in stour
Had entred, thame to win honour.
He callit the gude Emynedoun
And said him with courtes ressoun,
“Schir duke, this battell gif I the!
And Philote als thy fere salbe,
That wele can stryke with sheild and spere,
Defend his freind, his fais dere.
Ȝe sall haue in ȝour cumpany
Tua thousand knichtis that ar hardy;
Quharefore I pray to god Marcus
To keip Ferrand fra Porrus!”
Emynedus said, “shir, leif Ferrand,
And Hape ȝow wele to kepe ȝour brand
Fra the Bauderane Cassiale!
Ferrand salbe kepit but fale!”
Quhen Alexander hard Emynedus
Dispytusly spake and wryth him thus,
Sayand that he sould keip his steid,
Quha-euir was wraith or quha war weid,
In hart he maid great cheir,
And callit Dauclene and Tholomere:
“Lordingis,” said that nobill King,
“The tothir battelle in leding
I gif ȝow, to keip myne honour,
With tua thousand men of valour,
That ar all hale ȝing bacheleris,
Wicht, hardy and stout of feiris!
Thay will nocht faill for dout of dede!”
“Schir,” said Dauclene, “sa God me rede!
To-morne assemble gif we may,
Or it be mydwart of the day,
Sa great wonder thare ȝe sall se
That the best of thare menȝe
Sall nocht abyde into the stouris,
Na anys behald the best of ouris!”
“Weill worth the, Dauclene!” said the King,
“Me bird [the] lufe in mekill thing!”
The wedder was fare, as I hard say,
And in gude tyme the nobill King
Rais, and him claid in rich clething.
About him his priue men,
In the hall ar thay cummyng then,
That with grene iasp all pantit was,
Dyaparty weill fra place to place.
Into ane wyndo he beheld
The oist that all our-spred the feild.
With that, come Cassamus the feir,
Gaudefeir and his brother deir;
339
Mony barroun of great bounte.
Before the King, into the hall,
The peiris of Grece war gadderit all,
That was sa stout and sa hardy.
And he thame said full lufsumly,
“Lordingis, ane hundreth thousand syce
I thank ȝow of ȝour lele seruyce,
Bot now is doubled the mystere.
Lo! the oist of Inde before vs here,
Quhare mare ryches and treasure is
Than Daurus leuit, and all his!
Thairfore, Lordingis, I say ȝow to
That quha-sa with michty hes ado,
Sould first couit to win honour,
And syne the siluer and the treasour.
Quha winnis the honour, the laif is his,
And quha first ȝarnis the gude, I wis,
Honour and body, I warne ȝow weill,
He leissis all euer ilka deil.
For couatyse vpon this wyse
Reiffis haly that to honour lyis.
Bot we haue bene fortherwart thairof;
Thairfore our goddis haue the loif.
The morne sall the great battell be,
For-thy suld we puruey and se
How that we wyisly micht tailȝe,
And keip vs fra this great battailȝe.
Ane man me tald, bot short quhyle ere,
How thay deuysit of thare affere:
Sax battellis haue thay made, I hecht,
And to ilkane gude chiftane and wicht.
340
And the Bauderane, that wait I weill,
Sall haue the tothir in leding;
Him bird be hardy attour all thing
Sen he halely in lufe is laucht.
Caneus, as the man me thaucht,
Sall haue the thrid to keip and lede,
And Caleos, that is gude at neid,
Sall haue the ferd, [and] Salphadyne
Sall lede the last battale syne.
Clarus sall cum behynd thame sa,
On athir hand he garris thame ga.
I wait nocht, bot disagysitly
Than hes he ordanit thame halely,
Baith his battelis and his stering.”
Said Cassamus, “be heuinnis King,
He dois wysly, for, sic ane scheild,
He garris his men our-tak the feild.”
He rais on his feit and stude,
And said [to] Cassamus the gude,
“Beauschir, hald the by vs neir,
And ken vs quhen thow seis mister!
Thow hes in mony bargane bene,
And mekill can, and mare hes sene!
To-morne, gif God will, we sall fecht.
Now help God for his mekill mycht!
To-nycht at euin the trew sall faill,
Tharefore I rede, and geuis counsale,
That we thair-out ly all this nycht,
Ilk man armyt all at richt,
Sa that we be on our best wyse
Buskit, or that the sone begin to ryse.
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For gif Clarus thairof micht se”
Said Cassamus, “ȝe say richt wele,
And sa sall done be ilka dele!
Now is it tyme that we deuyse
Our battellis and on quhat-kin wyse
That ȝe will ordour ȝour menȝe.
And gif vs, gif ȝour willis be,
The first battell, for the steir
Is ouris, that all wait baith far and neir!”
Emynedus said, “sa may nocht fall!
Ȝe saw Porrus, before ȝow all,
Hecht he suld reif me my steid;
Betuix the battellis sould this deid
Be done; thairfore me think skill
It sould be myne!”—“I grant thair till!”
Said Cassamus, “for in ȝour bounte
Soueranely affy I me!”
The King about lukit and saw
His princes and barrouns standand on raw,
That oft in battell and in stour
Had entred, thame to win honour.
He callit the gude Emynedoun
And said him with courtes ressoun,
“Schir duke, this battell gif I the!
And Philote als thy fere salbe,
That wele can stryke with sheild and spere,
Defend his freind, his fais dere.
Ȝe sall haue in ȝour cumpany
Tua thousand knichtis that ar hardy;
Quharefore I pray to god Marcus
To keip Ferrand fra Porrus!”
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And Hape ȝow wele to kepe ȝour brand
Fra the Bauderane Cassiale!
Ferrand salbe kepit but fale!”
Quhen Alexander hard Emynedus
Dispytusly spake and wryth him thus,
Sayand that he sould keip his steid,
Quha-euir was wraith or quha war weid,
In hart he maid great cheir,
And callit Dauclene and Tholomere:
“Lordingis,” said that nobill King,
“The tothir battelle in leding
I gif ȝow, to keip myne honour,
With tua thousand men of valour,
That ar all hale ȝing bacheleris,
Wicht, hardy and stout of feiris!
Thay will nocht faill for dout of dede!”
“Schir,” said Dauclene, “sa God me rede!
To-morne assemble gif we may,
Or it be mydwart of the day,
Sa great wonder thare ȝe sall se
That the best of thare menȝe
Sall nocht abyde into the stouris,
Na anys behald the best of ouris!”
“Weill worth the, Dauclene!” said the King,
“Me bird [the] lufe in mekill thing!”
Qvhen Dauclene had said his corage,
The King dressit vp his visage,
And [said], “lo heir fare auantage,
That Clarus in our heritage
Hes brocht sa great riches heir!
To-morne we sall the battale steir;
Gif we na do, we sall haue blame,
And, eftir the skaith, reprufe and schame!
Cum furth, Lycanor and Lyoun,
And the thrid Battale [I] abandoun
To ȝow, that worthy ar and wyse,
With tua thousand men of prys,
Worthy and of great vassalage,
To bring to end ane great outrage!”
“Schir,” said Lyoun and Licanor,
“We sall do weill and God before!”
“I can nocht ken ȝow,” said the King,
“Bot to-morne in the mornyng
Honour sall be set to saill.
At speris streking ȝe sall all hale
Be Kingis sonnes euir ilka deill.
Ane gude man bird me cherys weill
That in ane Iournay anerly
Garris all him prys commonly.
Festioun, my freind, cum heir!
Thow sall haue, to keip and steir,
The ferd battale, with tua thousand,
Staluart in ilka stour to stand.
Antigorus sall with the be,
That in battell and great melle
Can stryke great straikis amang his fais
And help to his that mister hes!”
“This gift,” said Festioun, “bird nocht greif
To him that wald his body preif
And for his Lord him abandoun!”
He said, “fare fall the, Festioun!”
The King dressit vp his visage,
And [said], “lo heir fare auantage,
That Clarus in our heritage
Hes brocht sa great riches heir!
To-morne we sall the battale steir;
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And, eftir the skaith, reprufe and schame!
Cum furth, Lycanor and Lyoun,
And the thrid Battale [I] abandoun
To ȝow, that worthy ar and wyse,
With tua thousand men of prys,
Worthy and of great vassalage,
To bring to end ane great outrage!”
“Schir,” said Lyoun and Licanor,
“We sall do weill and God before!”
“I can nocht ken ȝow,” said the King,
“Bot to-morne in the mornyng
Honour sall be set to saill.
At speris streking ȝe sall all hale
Be Kingis sonnes euir ilka deill.
Ane gude man bird me cherys weill
That in ane Iournay anerly
Garris all him prys commonly.
Festioun, my freind, cum heir!
Thow sall haue, to keip and steir,
The ferd battale, with tua thousand,
Staluart in ilka stour to stand.
Antigorus sall with the be,
That in battell and great melle
Can stryke great straikis amang his fais
And help to his that mister hes!”
“This gift,” said Festioun, “bird nocht greif
To him that wald his body preif
And for his Lord him abandoun!”
He said, “fare fall the, Festioun!”
The King sat on the marbill gray,
And to auld Cassamus can he say,
“Thow art borne of this countre,
And maist is louit with ȝour menȝe,
Baith ane and vther, thow knawis thame all.
The fyft battell gouerne thow sall,
And Arreste sall with the be,
That is fulfillit of all bounte,
With knychtis anew and gude squyers,
With pensallis and displayit baneris;
And the commouns of Effesoun
Sall duell here and keip the toun.
Thare, think I, sall be our repare
Efter the fecht, gif vs fallis fare,
For, micht Clarus victored be
That voyd war left the citte,
He sould preis in, fra we war forth,
For wyues defence is lytle worth!”
Cassamus said, “I grant thairto!
I ganesay nocht that ȝe will do!”
“Ga here, Perdicas” said the King,
“Thy avow hes haly tane ending.
Thow most on new avow on neid!”
And he ansuered, as he war weid;
“Schir, as ȝe bid, it sall be done!
And be the Heuin, Sone and Mone,
I sall mak sik avow that sall
Be wele auysit, and thare-with-all
I sall mentene it with all my mane,
Thocht I sould die into the pane!
I avow, hechtis and sweiris raith
That betuix the battellis baith
I sall to-morne with all my gere,
Forouttin hors, with sheild and spere,
Be into the middes of the feild
That neuer, for man that lyfe may weild,
Sall I haue hors, bot gif it be
Wonnin of nane bot of me,
Throw strenth of armes and of hand!
This word I pray ȝow vnderstand!”
Said Alexander, “(sa God me se!)
With mekill wrang thow wraithis the.
Certis I did it for nane ill,
Na ȝit was na thing in my will!”
Quhen Betys hard the King, he rais
And said, “I avow and vndertais
To ga fute for fute with Perdicas.
I sall to-morne ga pais for pais,
And haue no hors, bot I him winnin,
To fulfill that he hes begunnin.”
And to auld Cassamus can he say,
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And maist is louit with ȝour menȝe,
Baith ane and vther, thow knawis thame all.
The fyft battell gouerne thow sall,
And Arreste sall with the be,
That is fulfillit of all bounte,
With knychtis anew and gude squyers,
With pensallis and displayit baneris;
And the commouns of Effesoun
Sall duell here and keip the toun.
Thare, think I, sall be our repare
Efter the fecht, gif vs fallis fare,
For, micht Clarus victored be
That voyd war left the citte,
He sould preis in, fra we war forth,
For wyues defence is lytle worth!”
Cassamus said, “I grant thairto!
I ganesay nocht that ȝe will do!”
“Ga here, Perdicas” said the King,
“Thy avow hes haly tane ending.
Thow most on new avow on neid!”
And he ansuered, as he war weid;
“Schir, as ȝe bid, it sall be done!
And be the Heuin, Sone and Mone,
I sall mak sik avow that sall
Be wele auysit, and thare-with-all
I sall mentene it with all my mane,
Thocht I sould die into the pane!
I avow, hechtis and sweiris raith
That betuix the battellis baith
I sall to-morne with all my gere,
Forouttin hors, with sheild and spere,
345
That neuer, for man that lyfe may weild,
Sall I haue hors, bot gif it be
Wonnin of nane bot of me,
Throw strenth of armes and of hand!
This word I pray ȝow vnderstand!”
Said Alexander, “(sa God me se!)
With mekill wrang thow wraithis the.
Certis I did it for nane ill,
Na ȝit was na thing in my will!”
Quhen Betys hard the King, he rais
And said, “I avow and vndertais
To ga fute for fute with Perdicas.
I sall to-morne ga pais for pais,
And haue no hors, bot I him winnin,
To fulfill that he hes begunnin.”
“Velcvm!” said Perdicas, “perfay,
Sik fallow that in will is ay
Vnmeasured strakes to gif and tak,
Is gude acquentance with to mak!”
With [that], ane hundreth and fyfty nere
Of knichtis that of the countre were,
Avowit all for Betys sake
That thay suld thame cumpany make
And do alsmekill of armes thare
As thay that full wele horsit ware.
“Thir folk ar wod!” said thay of Grece,
“For we lufe ane full gude pece.
I hope we sall nocht se na day
For ane sa mony mak deray!”
Sik fallow that in will is ay
Vnmeasured strakes to gif and tak,
Is gude acquentance with to mak!”
With [that], ane hundreth and fyfty nere
Of knichtis that of the countre were,
Avowit all for Betys sake
That thay suld thame cumpany make
And do alsmekill of armes thare
As thay that full wele horsit ware.
“Thir folk ar wod!” said thay of Grece,
“For we lufe ane full gude pece.
I hope we sall nocht se na day
For ane sa mony mak deray!”
The King had ferly quhan he saw
The knichtis stert vp all on raw,
That for Perdicas and Betys
Hes vndertane sa hie ane prys
As for to fecht in middes the feild,
On fute, all armit with spere and sheild,
Betuix the battellis arrayit to fecht,
Quhare xl thousand beis, I hecht,
That deidly thame hates, ilka man.
Greatly in hart he lofit thame than,
And said, “I will on na kin wyse
Let Perdicas of his empryse,
Na nane that cummin is him till,
For it amouis of hardy will.
Bot lytill I wraithit him lang ere,
Bot (sa the goddis fra wa me were!)
I thocht nane euill, bot that the toun
I wald war kepit fra treasoun;
For, wist Clarus that the citte
War voyd of men, alsone sould he
To enter with all his micht assay.”
And Perdicas was still, perfay,
And quoke for shame, I vnderta,
Quhen he the King saw meik him sa.
Than leuch thay all that was him neir,
And Alexander alsua maid gude cheir.
Quhen Alexander with Perdicas
And Betys, that his fallow was,
With gammin bourdit had and playit
Of the first avow, that doun was layit,
And of the tother, that stoutest was,
Great glaidschip in hart he hes,
And said, “lordingis now worthis me
Deuyse at laser quha sall be
With me into my awin battale.
I sall haue thame that will nocht fale,
Of Massidone, myne awin countre,
And thay of Grece sall ga with me,
Tua thousand knychtis, wicht and hardy.
Caulus, cum furth here, bellamy!
At my brydill with-hald the,
And keip me in [the] great melle!”
Said Caulus, “schir, (sa God me sane!)
The noy, the trauell and the pane
That I haue dreit, is quyte me weill,
Quhen that relick, that great ioweil,
Is thusgate in my keping set.
Now haue I that I greuit to get,
Honour alsmekill as I wald haue.
I wald nocht tak, (sa God me saue!)
In thanke to change all parradys
For this hie gift that geuin me is.
I had it leuer weill alway
Than all ȝour conquest to this day!”
“Grant mercy!” than said the King,
“That is to thank in mekill thing!”
The knichtis stert vp all on raw,
346
Hes vndertane sa hie ane prys
As for to fecht in middes the feild,
On fute, all armit with spere and sheild,
Betuix the battellis arrayit to fecht,
Quhare xl thousand beis, I hecht,
That deidly thame hates, ilka man.
Greatly in hart he lofit thame than,
And said, “I will on na kin wyse
Let Perdicas of his empryse,
Na nane that cummin is him till,
For it amouis of hardy will.
Bot lytill I wraithit him lang ere,
Bot (sa the goddis fra wa me were!)
I thocht nane euill, bot that the toun
I wald war kepit fra treasoun;
For, wist Clarus that the citte
War voyd of men, alsone sould he
To enter with all his micht assay.”
And Perdicas was still, perfay,
And quoke for shame, I vnderta,
Quhen he the King saw meik him sa.
Than leuch thay all that was him neir,
And Alexander alsua maid gude cheir.
Quhen Alexander with Perdicas
And Betys, that his fallow was,
With gammin bourdit had and playit
Of the first avow, that doun was layit,
And of the tother, that stoutest was,
Great glaidschip in hart he hes,
And said, “lordingis now worthis me
Deuyse at laser quha sall be
347
I sall haue thame that will nocht fale,
Of Massidone, myne awin countre,
And thay of Grece sall ga with me,
Tua thousand knychtis, wicht and hardy.
Caulus, cum furth here, bellamy!
At my brydill with-hald the,
And keip me in [the] great melle!”
Said Caulus, “schir, (sa God me sane!)
The noy, the trauell and the pane
That I haue dreit, is quyte me weill,
Quhen that relick, that great ioweil,
Is thusgate in my keping set.
Now haue I that I greuit to get,
Honour alsmekill as I wald haue.
I wald nocht tak, (sa God me saue!)
In thanke to change all parradys
For this hie gift that geuin me is.
I had it leuer weill alway
Than all ȝour conquest to this day!”
“Grant mercy!” than said the King,
“That is to thank in mekill thing!”
Cavlvs was glaid and full of blis,
And the gude King amang all his
Than said, “Lordingis, with sely werd,
To-morne airly with spere and swerd,
I will ilkane, strange and priue,
Vpon ȝour hors all armit be,
Ane lytill before the Sone rysing,
Quhen ȝe heir tauburnes and trumping!
On lyfe and guds this command I!
Syne sall we ryde richt hardely,
And pas we all with spere and scheild,
Sa that we first may tak the feild;
Syne sall we se the ordaning
Of thame of Inde and thare cumming.”
“Schir Floridas,” said the King, “ga here!
Thow art to me baith leif and dere,
For thow hes seruit me lelely;
That salbe quit the hastelly,
Efter this weir, gif I may leif!
My brydill reinȝeis heir I the geif,
To keip me in the great battaill.
Keip thow me weill forouttin faill,
Thow sall haue proffeit and honour.
I lippin in thy great valour.
Thocht thow be fer and of strange countre,
Of simpill men, and into the
Be alkin worship at deuyce
In thocht and dede and lele seruyce,
The mare all out men sould the lufe,
Cheris and honour and gude dede prufe;
Sa sall I do, (sa God me rede!)
Gif I ocht lang lyfe may lede!
Thairof suld nane anoyit be,
Na think inuy na mauite.
Thocht ane gude man, to myne intent,
Micht borne be throw enchantment,
Ȝit think me that men bird him do
All that gude man afferit to!”
“For this gift,” said Floridas,
“I na wald tak all Damas!”
“Floridas,” said the King of prys,
“I leif me in thy fare seruice
Till all that ar in my pouer.
I sall the quyte weill and fare:
My renȝe to ȝeme I the betak,
To lede me quhare cowartis sall quaik,
For weill I wait that laute
And he honour is set in the.
My countre-men sall with me ga,
Of Grece and Massidone alsua.”
Said Floridas, “deir God! quhen I
Deseruit to haue ȝone senȝeory
That the gude King hes hecht to me?”
“In thy seruice, vassale” said he,
“That, gif I leif, sall be the quyte
Weill mare than I deuyse the ȝit!”
And the gude King amang all his
Than said, “Lordingis, with sely werd,
To-morne airly with spere and swerd,
I will ilkane, strange and priue,
Vpon ȝour hors all armit be,
Ane lytill before the Sone rysing,
Quhen ȝe heir tauburnes and trumping!
On lyfe and guds this command I!
Syne sall we ryde richt hardely,
348
Sa that we first may tak the feild;
Syne sall we se the ordaning
Of thame of Inde and thare cumming.”
“Schir Floridas,” said the King, “ga here!
Thow art to me baith leif and dere,
For thow hes seruit me lelely;
That salbe quit the hastelly,
Efter this weir, gif I may leif!
My brydill reinȝeis heir I the geif,
To keip me in the great battaill.
Keip thow me weill forouttin faill,
Thow sall haue proffeit and honour.
I lippin in thy great valour.
Thocht thow be fer and of strange countre,
Of simpill men, and into the
Be alkin worship at deuyce
In thocht and dede and lele seruyce,
The mare all out men sould the lufe,
Cheris and honour and gude dede prufe;
Sa sall I do, (sa God me rede!)
Gif I ocht lang lyfe may lede!
Thairof suld nane anoyit be,
Na think inuy na mauite.
Thocht ane gude man, to myne intent,
Micht borne be throw enchantment,
Ȝit think me that men bird him do
All that gude man afferit to!”
“For this gift,” said Floridas,
“I na wald tak all Damas!”
“Floridas,” said the King of prys,
“I leif me in thy fare seruice
349
I sall the quyte weill and fare:
My renȝe to ȝeme I the betak,
To lede me quhare cowartis sall quaik,
For weill I wait that laute
And he honour is set in the.
My countre-men sall with me ga,
Of Grece and Massidone alsua.”
Said Floridas, “deir God! quhen I
Deseruit to haue ȝone senȝeory
That the gude King hes hecht to me?”
“In thy seruice, vassale” said he,
“That, gif I leif, sall be the quyte
Weill mare than I deuyse the ȝit!”
| The buik of Alexander | |