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Let we now ben is em Saber
& speke of Beues, þe maseger!
Forþ him wente sire Beuoun,
Til a com to Dames toun;
Aboute þe time of middai
Out of a mameri a sai
Sarasins come gret foisoun,
Þat hadde anoured here Mahoun.
Beues of is palfrei aliȝte
And ran to her mameri ful riȝte
And slouȝ here prest, þat þer was in,
And þrew here godes in þe fen
And louȝ hem alle þer to scorn.
On ascapede and at-orn
In at þe castel ȝete,
Ase þe king sat at þe mete.
‘Sire,’ seide þis man at þe frome,
‘Her is icome a corsede gome,
Þat þroweþ our godes in þe fen
And sleþ al oure men;
Vnneþe i scapede among þat þring,
For to bringe þe tiding!’
Brademond quakede at þe bord
& seide: ‘Þat is Beues, me lord!’
Beues wente in at þe castel ȝate,
His hors he lefte þer ate
And wente forþ in to þe halle
And grete hem in þis maner alle:
‘God, þat made þis world al ronde,
Þe saue, sire king Brademond,
And ek alle þine fere,
Þat i se now here,
And ȝif þat ilche blessing
Likeþ þe riȝt noþing,
Mahoun, þat is god þin,
Teruagaunt & Apolin,
Þe blessi and diȝte
Be alle here miȝte!
Lo her, þe king Ermin
Þe sente þis letter in parchemin,
And ase þe letter þe telleþ to,
A bad, þow scholdest swiþe do!’
Beues kneuled & nolde nouȝt stonde
& ȝaf vp is deþ wiþ is owene honde.

Brademond quakede al for drede,
He vndede þe letter & gan to rede
And fond iwriten in þat felle,
How þat he scholde Beues aquelle.
Þanne seide Brademond to twenti king,
Þat were þat dai at is gistning,
A spak wiþ tresoun & wiþ gile:
‘Ariseþ vp,’ he sede ‘a while,
Euerich of ȝow fro þe bord,
And wolcomeþ ȝour kende lord!’
Alle hii gonnen vp riȝt stonde,
& Brademond tok Beues be þe honde
And held him faste at þat sake,
Þat he ne scholde is swerd out take,
& cride, alse he hadde be wod,
To hem alle, aboute him stod:
‘Ase ȝe me louen at þis stounde,
Bringeþ þis man swiþe to grounde!’
So faste hii gonne aboute him scheue,
Ase don ben aboute þe heue:
So wiþ inne a lite stounde
Beues was ibrouȝt to grounde.
Brademond seide him anon riȝt:
‘Ȝif þow me naddest wonne wiþ fiȝt,
I nolde for noþing hit be-leue,
Þat þow schost be hanged er eue:
Ac ase euel þe schel be-tide,
In me prisoun þow schelt abide
Vnder þerþe twenti teise,
Þar þow schelt haue meche miseise.
Ne scheltow haue, til þow be ded,
Boute ech a dai quarter of a lof bred;
Ȝif þow wilt drinke, þeȝ it be nouȝt swet,
Þe schelt hit take vnder þe fet!’
A dede Beues binde to a ston gret,
Þat weȝ seue quarters of whet,
And het him caste in to prisoun,
Þat twenti teise was dep adoun.
At þe prisoun dore Beues fond
A tronsoun, þat he tok in is hond:
Þar wiþ a þouȝte were him þere
Fram wormes, þat in prisoun were.
Now is Beues at þis petes grounde:
God bringe him vp hol and sonde!