The Buik of King Alexander the Conqueror

Quhan þai had feistit þame and made gude chere,
And restit þame all at þare awne laser,
Thay spuleȝeit all, and tuke þame of þe best,
Off all riches tuke þe worthiest,
And chargit cartis, camelis, and chareotis,
And turst all thing þat þai couth find to notis;
And tuke him-selff þe charbunkill and perry,
And delt the gold all till his seingȝory.
The toun na palace wald he nocht thole breik,
Bot [of] þe gude þai tuke thare bare affei[k]—
It had bene harme þat it distroȝeit war,
For Sanct Thomas of Ynde now layis þare;
Ane principall palais is of Prester Iohnne,
In quhilk all Yndis now trowis him apoun.

Than Alexander gatt wodwiȝ ten or twelf,
And spak with thame, and feit þame him-selff,
Him for to gide throw the desertis of Ynde,
And neuer to stent quhill that he Porrus find,
To chaisty him of his ydolatrie,
Gar him renunce Mahovin and mawmentry.
Thare chargit he camelis and dromadareis,
With all the cartis and chareotis þat þare is,
And als þai chargit the oliphantis all,
And all the berand beistis, grete and small,
With gold and siluer, victuale, and pretius stanis,
And trumpit vp, and his menȝie attanis—

It was ane ioyus sicht on þame to se,
Sa proude and lusty cumpaney was he.

Thay past out-throw ane land callit Colliphas,
Quhare wylde beistis and mony dragoun was,
Garete r[o]ches and woddis mervellus,
With hie montanis and rivers perrelus.
The hete was grete, the wattir was all salt,
That of freche wattir þai had ay maist falt:
In thai desertis he tint of his menȝe ma
Throw hete and thrist, vnbeistis þat þame sla,
Na thay had tynt in battall with Porrus,
For in thare liffe sted war þai nevir thus.
Thus in thare harnes ythandly þai swete,
And vmbeistis dalie þame vmbesete.
Thay had na land to luge in bot in desertis—
The oist sa noyit war into þare hartis,
For þai durst nocht in cavis mak repare,
For beistis venemous þat þarein war.
The wodwiȝ, quhilk war bund-men to Porrus,
On sett purposeis þe ost myscondit thus,
Bot ȝitt þe king, becaus he thame nocht trest,
He wauld nocht thole to do thame na molest,
Bot traitit þame, and made þame wele to fare,
For he micht gett nane vþer guidis þare.
Thare was routh men and hary all-attoure,
And in þare hand þai bare ilkane ane stoure;
Thai war all nakit, with hingand taty hare,
Thare feitt war s[m]eith, with hede and handis bare;
Thai war richt mekill men, of sembly mak,
And oure grette watteris þa[i] bare men on þare bak.

As þai past throw the forest þus in fere,
Sa come thai till a passand grete river,
Quhare in ane ile þai saw ane castell strang;
Quhan þai persauit the ost, ane bell þai rang—
Sa come þare furth ane rusty cumpaney
Of wodwiȝ sic as of before spak I,
Be liklynes sic as the godis war,
Without clething, all coverit oure with hare.
Thai mervelit on the oist, and studeit fast;

Than Alexander to thame vauld fane haue past,
Bot þai micht find na furde na passing place,
Na of nowther schip na bot be liklynnes.
It was sa depe and mervelus profunde,
Thay mycht nocht win with na tre to þe ground;
Bot at the last thai socht baith vp and doun,
Quhill that thai fand a brig of gude fassoun,
And oure þai past, and to þat castell gais,
And schupe to assalȝe it all wayis.
Thai war agil and licht as ony raa,
And ran sa swift þat nane micht thame ouretaa;
And quhan men left, and turnit þe bak on þame,
Thay followit, and on hors behind þame clame.
Thay had tuskis and clukis richt felloun,
And raif and werryit men, and kest þame doun,
And sic ane murthur on þare men þai made
That thai retretit þame but mare abade—
Thai raif men creuly, and kest thame doun,
As dog or wolf, bere, or as lioun.
Than semblit thai of wourthy men in rout
Ane multitude of hard men and stout,
And till the castell past for till assaleȝe;
Bot all thare dede micht na thing þame avaleȝe,
For fra the place þai past, and tuke þe plane,
Quhill in þe wild, quhill in the watter agane—
Thai can als wele in þe grete treis clym,
And in the river quh[i]lom for to swym.
Than gart the king his gydis swym to se
Quha best micht in þe watter maister be,
Bot sone þai werryit þame, and in pecis raif—
Sa vald thai, and þai micht gett all the laif,
For thai war in þe wattir mare agill
Na on the land, and alsa mare subtell—
Thay vauld douk quhan þai wald, he and law,
And vnder pas, þat nane micht knaw,
Ane myle or tua, quhile in þe wod agane,
Quhile in þe castell, and quhilum in þe plane.
Sic folk to name ar callit Ypothumaiȝ,
That all this creulte and wilis has;
Thay ete bot raw flesche, and syne þai drank þe blude,

Or clere wattir—thai hade na vther fude.
The river þare was salt as ony bryme,
Bot ȝitt freche wattir come to þame all tyme
On-to þare castell fra ane fer cuntre,
In condeittis vnder erde, þat nane micht se.

Than Alexander saw þat it micht nocht avalȝe
Thame to conquest—it was a tynt travelȝe;
And send tretie, and bad þame giftis grete,
To gu[i]de thame throw the wildernes, to gett
Sum refresching of freche wattir and gresse,
For þare erde throw hete sa dryit was
That nowther gers na corne was þare growand,
Bot woid and wattir, wyld beist and widderit land,
With rochis hie, with serpentis and dragownus,
With beris, tigris, griffouns, and lyounis.
Than was þare ane quhilk spak richt gude langage,
Sayand, “And we mycht traist in ȝoure trewage,
We sould ȝow lede quhare freche wattir till haue,
With all thing that þow misteris for to laif;
Bot of ȝoure gold na siluer bid we nocht—
In this deserte we haue ynewch on-bocht;
We bid nocht ellis bot flesche and wattir clere,
And quh[i]lum fische þat growis in þis river.
Bot all oure wattir cummys fra Sadayngȝe,
In grete condeittis out of ane hie montanȝe;
Bot we sall lede ȝow to ane freche river
And gude cuntre, þat [is] nocht far fra here;
Bot thare is dragouns, mony and hidduous—
Mak gude wache in the nycht, and ȝe be wis.
And into ȝoure way ane river ȝe sall fynd:
Seik to ane brig, and lat na man pas Ind;
Ane riche castell on the vther parte—
Bot we dar nocht pas with ȝow hiddirwarte,
For þat castell and we is fa of were,
And we thame harme, and thai do ws [m]a dere.
And thare beȝound, vndir a litill skeuch,
Thare is gud ground and fresche wattir ynewch.”

Thay past agane quhan þai had taucht the way;
The oist removit als fast as euer þai may,
And to that river quhare that castell was.

Thay trumpit vp quhan thai saw the place,
And cryit in of fer, and askit entre—
The place was like a mychtie place to be.
Thai lukit oure, and spak na worde agane;
The se was depe, þe feild about [was] plane;
In-to the place nane armes þai drew to,
Bot made sembland as men of pece suld do.
Than traistit þai þat nane was þarein
Bot nakit men, and eith war for to wyn,
And tocht nocht quhat the wodwiȝ þare had said;
And all about þe place þe sege lade,
And gart doukaris and swymmaris pas to se,
Off hardy men wele tua hundreth or thre,
And all thare wappynnis tursit apoun a flote,
To draw oure syne, with harnes and with schote.
Bot quhan þai plungit in þat river,
And to the castell cumand war wele nere,
Off hiddious beistis þare come ane grete menȝe,
Like as þai had bene quhalis of þe se,
With lyoun hedis, and tuskis scherpe and grete,
And all thai wourthy men þai raif and ete,
And left neuer ane away with liffe to wyn.
With that the folk þat was þe place within,
Thai gaif ane cry, with grete derisioun—
Thame nedit nocht nane vther garnisoun.
Than was þe king richt crabit and angry,
Bot he vauld nocht leif his purposis forþi.

Syne lede þe gydis þe ost in gude maner,
Quhill sone þai gat [s]icht of þe fresche river;
Than blew thai vp trumpis and clariouns,
And plantit doun tentis and palȝeouns,
And made gude chere; þe ost was blayth and glaid
That thai the fresche river fundin had,
For beist and man sa bundin war with thrist
And with hete, wele nere thare hartis birst.
And in the nycht grete fyris gart þai ma,
To kepe the oist the weikkit beistis fra,
And for-thay þat þe beistis and þe dragouns,
Baith vnicornes, serpentis, and liouns,
War custummyt forto drink at thare river

Into the nycht—quhilk happinit, fare and clere:
Thay drew all to the river for to drink,
Sic multitude þat nane in harte mycht think,
Quhilk, or men wist, full mony a man þai slew,
That for fresche wattir to þe river drew;
And quhan thai war battit on mannys blude,
Thai rampit till haue mare, and wox all wod,
Bot all the oist þai gart till armes draw,
And into batall rangit thame on raw.
Bot sic ane batall had thai neuer are,
As with wyld beistis þat nycht had thai thare,
That of þare menȝe mony ane was slane,
And cheist the beistis to the wod agane.

Than Alexander hound slew grete fusoun
Off vnicornis, of tygris, and of lioun,
That mony of þame war left into the feild,
Off quhilkis the skynnes of mony of þame þai peild;
For skynnys of þai beistis marvelus
For mony thingis ar haldin pretius:
Sum is for malody, and sum for hete,
Sum agane cald and vther causis grete,
And sum is agane vennoun and hie poysoun,
And sum agane contraffing of tressoun;
Ane vnicornis bane quhare it is bocht,
For twyis sa mekill gold it byis it nocht;
And of the skynnys and saklis of sum dragouns
Men clethis pretius tentis and sum pailȝouns;
Sum is sa cald þat throw þame cummys na hete,
Suppois the birnand hete be neuer sa grete;
Sum is sa hete that throw thame cummys na cald—
For frost nor snaw, nane vthir fyre þai vald;
And sum within thame enteris na poisoun,
Na vther sum in þame tholis na tressoun—
Off quhilkis þis princis chalmeris stentit ar—
And vtheris tholis na seiknes quhare þai ar;
And mony vther werteous has sic thingis
Quhilk gaynis best for princis and for kingis.
Thus, thocht þe king sum of his pepill tyne,
God Him revelit in vther maner syne,
That quhat of pretius stanis, and quhat of skynnis,

Ten mullioun wourth of warldis gude he wynnis.

That nycht þai woik, and made gud waching ay,
Quhill on þe morne, that it was licht of day,
Thay blew the bemes, as fordwart for to pas,
Towart the place quhare Porrus batall was.
Sa happynnit that a dragowun mervellus,
Quhilk oure all vther at outrage was hidduous:
Apoun hir bak ane grete armoure scho bare—
Like as ane rufe of ane grete stepill it war,
The body vnder, in guyse of ane dragoun—
Thare was na hous sa-mekill in ony toun;
Quhilk till ane dragoun like scho had a snowtt,
And all hir sydis skalit war about;
Hir leggis grete and armit war alsua,
Ay schotand flauchtis of fire, quhare-evir scho ga.
Sum of þame said it was a cocadrill—
Men wist nocht quhatkin beist to likin it till.
The flauchtis of fire þat throw hir mouth out kest,
Brocht mony ane man and hors to dedis brist—
Thay war sa basit, þir lordis all bedene,
Thay wend that scho ane feynd of H[e]ll had bene.
Thay sett before hir cartis and chareotis,
And proppit gonnys and sindrie vther schottis,
And all but buffit and gla[n]sit on hir balan—
Hir schell was hard as owtherane flent or stane;
Scho was of diuers hewis and cullouris,
And with that scho made all men sic horrouris.
This his hound apoun hir batit Alexander:
Scho blew sic blaistis, he durst nocht cum nerehand hir,
For with blaistis of fire þat scho leit ga,
Thare was nowthir man na beist bot scho vald sla.

Than Alexander had irne chenȝeis lang,
Ordanit to brig riveris, þat war richt strang.
Than, in þat passege quhare that beist sould ga,
He gart stent of thai chenȝeis ane or tua;
Syne gart he sett chartis and chareotis
On athir side, quhill all the way he stoppis,
For he vauld nocht of gold ane mullioun

Bot scho war put anyis to distructioun.
Syne blew thai trumpis, and maid sic hoy and cry,
And sett in batall in the cumpaney;
With that scho drew, and wald haue bene away,
And euer the mare grete noyis and cry made þai,
Quhill at the last þat hiddous feynd of Hell
Amange the chenȝeis and the cartis fell.
Than Alexander him-selff þe first assalȝeit,
Bot quhan scho armeit [was], na straik avalȝeit;
Quhan scho was at þe erde, scho micht nocht rise—
Thay socht about to sla hir in mony wise,
Throw leiskis, condittis, and opynnis of hir body.
Thay slew hir at the last al-vtirlie,
Bot mony men throw hir war hurt and slane,
And all the ost was put in mekill pane.

Than was the ost stroublit and vexit sare,
That thame behuffit bide and refresch þame þare,
Apoun the samyn wattir, was sa clere,
Quhilk was ane stank—nocht lang, as a rivere,
Bot it was [foure-and-twenty] legis of lenth,
Risand of wallis, nocht cumand with na strenth.
And as thai tocht to plant þare pavilliouns,
Sa come þare ane grete menȝe of grete griffouns,
Off quhilkis þe bodyis war grete as ony hors,
And baith had weyngis and leggis apoun þare cors;
The heid, the beig, was like ane erne hede made,
With breist and body wounder thik and brade;
Thare weyngis war of mervellus mekill make,
In hir clukis ane armit man vauld tak.
Syne come þare griffis and nyctigorax,
Off quhilkis the bodyis war mare na ony ox,
With aquilis, vulturis, and vther ferly foulis,
Come to that strand, with schouttis and ȝoulis,
And als thai war in sic ane quantetie
That all that ost war in proplexite.
Thay leiffit of reif of carioun and vther pray—
Ane litill hors þai wald bere quyte away,
And quh[i]lum men þat thai fand thame alane,
Off quhilkis þai war þare mony mannis bane;
And sum of thame had creistis on þare maneȝ

Like to ane cok, þat standis vp to faneȝ,
And with ane lioun hede and mouth and teith.

Than Alexander wald fane haue had asseith
Off his menȝe, quhilk thai slew cruelly,
Bot he couth neuer be maister of þame forthay;
And mony of þare birdis gottin was,
Bot he gart the guydis seik throw the wildernes,
And tursit thame with him in chareotis,
Sayand that he sould find to thame sum notis.
Thay schott þai beistis with gvn and culveryn,
And with mony vther maner of ingine,
Bot thai made nocht of all thare schott a myte.
Thay tuke thare prayis, and flew away full quyte,
And tursit away into thare cumpaney
Out of that stank of fische vnnowmerably,
Off grete [s]elchis, and pellokis, and of quhalis;
Off thare calfis þai tuke baith will and walis,
And of beistis war brocht for victaling,
The quhilk was brocht with thame in-till osting,
With thare tallounis þai sesit and bare away,
That na man in þe oist remede it may.

Than rais the ost, and passit fra þat place,
And happinit in a land of grete riches,
Quhare all the foulis and beistis in þat land
Ar fer greter na ony that euer men fand—
The cowschottis and the dowis war alsa grete
As ony geis þat here a man micht gett;
Guse, hen, or mallart, or like, be likelynes,
Als grete as swan or cran ar in þis place,
And all thing is þare bettir in grete degrie
And fer mare als, þan ony that here we se;
And all metallis, gold, siluer, pretius stanis,
Growis in þi landis, throw quhilk riche mony ane is.

Syne furthwart in þai landis passit he,
Quhill he come to þe land of Femynee,
Off quhilkis thare was of women sic ane nomber
That all that cuntre like was till encombir.
Thay war closit in ane ille within the sey,
Na wauld neuer to na conquerioure obey;
Thay held thare husbandis in ane plane cuntre,

Bot thai wald nocht be thare men g[ou]er[n]it be,
Na of na sowdane, king, na emprioure,
Thay wald nocht mak þare king na gouernoure,
Bot in thare ile held thame ay maist michtie,
With sic ane multitude in cumpaney
Off fare women, custumyit armouris to bare
In thare defence, and made on all men were.
Quhan ony prince wald with thame be sturtand,
Than wald thai cum in osting to the land,
And werray thame, and gif þame plane batall,
Na wald na man haue be þare gouernale.
Than vesyit the king to send ane messingere,
To thame to wrette, and se of þare maner,
And to thare quene, was callit Pallissida,
Of Amasoun and mony landis ma;
And in this wise ane pistill till hir send,
And till hir wourthy ladyschip made kend
That he wald fane bene of hir quentance,
To se thare maner and thare governance:

“Alexander, the king of kingis [with] croun,
Sum tyme bot king of Grece and Macedone,
Sone to god Amon, of his gudlie grace,
And sone alsua to Quene Olimpias,
Till ane wourthy quene, callit Pallissida,
The quene of Madin Land and mony ma,
Greting, with wourschip, honoure, and blaythnes.
We traist to ȝow vnknawin nocht it was
How throw the grace of God ourecummyn haue we
The regiouns hale vnto þe Occiane Se,
And put thame all vnder oure obeysance,
Quhilkis all ar governit be oure ordinance;
And als we trest it is nocht to ȝow vnknawin
How Porrus, King of Ynde, we haue ourethrawin,
And chaisit him fer out-throw the wildernes,
And haldis his landis, his lordschip, and his plac[e].
Quharefore I ask þat ȝe wauld to me send
Sic tribute as to Porrus ȝe pretend,
Sen we haue wonnying and conquest all the laif:
It semes ȝow wele, for landis þat ȝe haue
In gouernance, þat ȝe ws fewta mak,

For and we pas by ȝow, it war bot lake,
That we sa mony men ourethrawin has,
That wemen suld ganestand ws in þis case;
And of þis thing ansure ȝe send ws till,
Of ȝoure intent and of ȝoure gudlie will,
For we think ladyis suld be led be suetnes,
And fauorit and defendit be nobilnes;
And als we vauld knaw ȝoure magnificence,
Ȝoure state, ȝoure wourschip, and ȝoure excellence,
And how ȝe may manteine ȝoure seingȝeory,
And oure sa money kingis had victory,
And nocht obey to prince nor empreouris,
Na thole ȝoure husbandis be ȝoure gou[er]nouris.
It settis nocht ladyis batalis for to lede,
Na conquest landis, na to manteine na fede,
Na maistres oure þare husbandis for to be,
Na governe croun, na realme, na dignetie—
The man is hede to woman, and ledare,
And at his biddin suld be euermare;
Than may ane woman be callit, husbandles,
Like till ane mannys bodie war hedeles,
And greter lak it is, be mekill thing,
To se ane quene be maister oure a king,
For in oure land it wa[r] a frely cais,
A crovnit king to haue a king crounles.”

The messingeris all þus þare leif has tane,
And to þe Quene Palliseay ar gane,
Wnto the ile and landis of Amesoun,
The quhilk was michtie and a grete regioun;
And to the quene the pistill presentit has,
The quhilk grete wourschip to þe message mais,
And callit hir counsale, and the pistil redis,
For with hir counsale did scho all hir dedis.
Quhan scho the pistil vnderstandin had,
Ay to the message wourth chere scho made,
And sone ane vther pistill agane scho wrettis,
And with hir awne mouth propirlie it ditis,
Sic as a quene to kingis wrete efferis,
Quhilk followis efter, in þis maner as here is:

“Palisseda, the Quene of Amasoun,

The quhilk with wourschip conquest has þe croun,
Throw womannis helpe, and throw na man on live:
Suppois to men þat we be spous and wife,
Sen we but man þis wourschip conquest has,
And to defend baith cost and travell mais,
It war folie sic wourschip to diffaid,
And of sic governance oure-selff to deg[ra]de;
Sen oure forebearis, quhilk war wise conqueriouris,
Manteineit thare richt, and vpheld þare honouris,
And we of power and prosperetie
For to defend oure richt in all degrie,
We think it war na witt, bot grete foly,
To giff oure suggettis oure ws ony maistry,
For war oure husbandis of witt to governe ws,
We had nocht tane the maistry till ws þus,
The quhilk we sall manteine quhill we liff may
Aganis all men, to de all on a day.

“As to the tribute that ȝe here ask at ws,
And to ȝoure pistill we ansure ȝow þus:
Sen oure all men þat ȝe haue victorie,
The los of wourschip, and þe seingȝerie,
And [of all] realmis has dominatioun,
Off cuntre, castell, cite, toure, and toun,
And all throw strenth of hand and wourthynes,
And maist douchtie men in ȝoure seruice has,
It war na honoure to [sic] wourthy men
To ask tribute of ladyis nor of woman,
Bot erare in ȝoure wourthynes we wend
Ȝe sould succoure, favore, and defend.
Suppois of all men tribute ȝe haue tane,
As of oure land, trewage ȝe sall haue nane,
Na of oure fredome for to tyne a poynt,
Bot gif ȝe wyn it [at þe] speris poynt;
And gif ȝe think ȝe wald be conquerioure
Off ws, ȝe sall nocht wyn it with honoure—
Þocht ȝe haue wonnying realmes and regiouns hale,
Ȝitt sall ȝe neuer ws conquest but batale;
And tocht ȝe wyn, litill wourschip to ȝow war,
That has the warld conquest throw ȝoure powar,

To ourethraw ladyis and to put þame doun—
It wald defade ȝoure wourschip and renoun;
And gif ȝe tyne, all honoure, los, and glore
It is deg[ra]dit þat euer ȝe wan before.
Bot and ȝo[w] list oure conversatioun knaw,
We sall in wrette ȝow send, and to ȝow schaw:
We d[ue] into ane ile be ws allane,
And vthir cumpaney forsoith we covaite nane
Bot women of oure awne natiuitie,
For we will nocht vnder na subiectioun be;
Oure husbandis ar at oure bidding and will—
Euerilke ȝere we gar þame cum ws till
Into the first begynnyng of the May,
And bidis that moneth to the lettir day,
And syne pas hame into þare awne cuntre,
Apoun the meane-land, fer beȝound the see;
And gif it happynys ws ane barne to haue,
We nuris it sevin ȝere amange þe laiff:
Gif it be knaif, his fader we send him till,
To governe him fra þine furth at his will;
And be it a madin childe, it sall remane,
And neuer to the maneland cum agane.

“Oure land is full of riches and of mycht,
And all oure folk full craftie, ful of slicht,
And makis warkis wounder mervellus,
For all kynd of riches growis within ws,
Baith gold and siluer, silk, and pretius stanis,
Baith corne and wyne, and all that gude for man is,
Baith fische and foule and beist of all nature
That gudlie ar for ony creature.
Oure ile into the Greik Sey standand is,
And ane grete revere, cummys fra Paradise,
Is on oure inner side, towart the land,
Quhilk is baith brade and depe and fast rynnand;
And mony ilis standand in þe sey
Throw oure grete micht we gar tell ws obey.
Oure ile is lang, þat we couth neuer fynd end—
For wildirnes the endis micht neuer be kend—
Bot as we traist, and sic is oure avise,
That ane end strekis evin to Paradise,

Quhilk for to seik, na man may thole the pane,
For mony has previt þat neuer [eft] com agane.
Mony grete princis has sett to conquer oure land,
Bot ȝitt na[ne] mycht of ws haue oure-hand;
And gif ȝow list to schape ws to conquere,
Ȝe sall nocht nede to cum to seik ws here,
For quhan ȝow list at ȝoure awne hartis will,
On the maneland we sall cum furth ȝow till—
In cumpaney of five hundreth thousand
We sall cum furth and mete ȝow on þe land.

“Oure ile is stark and strenthie all about,
That of na erdlie man we haue na dout;
Oure woman ar baith stark, hard, and stoure,
And richt wele made in all þare portrature—
Off þare richt side we schere away a pape
In thare ȝouthhede, quhan þai souke on þe pappe,
Sa that it lett þame nocht to welde þare spere,
Nor for to schute, quhan we pas to the were.
We are sa hie in hart þat we na may
Thole ws to liff in thirldome be þe way,
Nocht to be suiectis till oure husbandis,
Quhilk gart ws sett to conquest vther landis
Beȝond þe flude, and thare to gar thame duell.
Bot maisteris here we will nocht bot oure-sell—
We fynd sic proffeitt to be maistris ay
That we will nocht be subgettis ony way.

“We ar nocht sett in lust of lichorie—
It suffice ws oure sede to multeplie;
We mak ma barnis to mete anis in þe ȝeir
Nor for to ly dalie with oure plesere—
Into the tyme þat we intercomoun
Is the best tyme for oure generatioun
Off hardy men and women, and manly,
Quhilk ar fortounit to lois and victory:
Quhat persoun be ingendrit in þat sessoun,
Thay habill ar to cum to hie fortoun,
Mare na in ony tyme of all þe ȝere,
Sic planettis in þat sessoun regnand ar.
Quhan þat the Ram his cours fulfillit has,
Than cummys the Bull, and his cours efter mais—

The Ram begynnys in Marche into þe myddis,
And to þe myddis of Apprile he bidis,
And efterwart, fra þe myddis of Apprille,
Than begynnys þe Bull, and takis his quhile,
And rengis vnto þe [twenty-sevint] day of Maii;
And in this tyme oure husbandis cummys ay—
Quha beis ingendrit in þat tyme sal be
Off grete wourschip, and abill to carage hie,
For þat þir singis þan in þe Zodiakis
With Mars and Iubiter coniunctiouns makis.
The takin of þe Bul hes sic renoun,
It passis all the laif of hie fortoun;
Tharefore in þat tyme þus governe we,
That oure gude fortoun may evir lestand be.
In the cuntre quhare oure husbandis ar,
May be five hundreth thousand fechtand men, and mare,
And quhan oure husbandis cummys till ws sua,
The feist of Iubiter statelike þan we ma;
Oure husbandis makis till ws obedience,
And gevis all the state and reverence,
And cumys till ws, and bowis to oure wandis,
And haldis of ws thare lordschip and þare landis.
And gif þe list to vesy ws as freynd,
As for als lang as ȝe list here to leynd,
Ȝe ar welcum for ȝoure grete worthines;
And gif þow misteris into batale place,
We sall ȝow send sic succoure as we may,
Ane hundreth thousand fechtaris for a day.”

Quhan Alexander hade hard þe pistill rede,
Gart sembell all his consell he þame bad,
And schew all this thing, as wrettin here is,
And gaif grete giftis to hir messingeris;
And syne ane vthir pistill he gart wrette,
And of þare ansure had richt grete delite,
And to thame worthy messingeris send he,
With sic ane pistill as ȝe sall efter se:
“King Alexander, the king of kingis with croun,
Sone to Quene Olimpias and god Amon,
To ane wourthy quene, Pal[i]ssida,

Off Amasoun and vther landis ma,
Greting in God, with grece and gudelynes:
We make it knawne vnto ȝoure wourthynes,
Sen it is sua þat þis warld halelie [OMITTED]
And gif ȝe suld ganestand oure seingȝorie,
Than had we nocht of the warld maistry.
Bot quhare ȝe say ȝe sall cum oure þe flude,
And mete ws with sa grete a multitude
Out of ȝoure regioun and natiuitie,
We counsale ȝow sic lanage to latt be,
For treulie, and ȝe cum of ȝoure regioun
To giff ws batall, ȝe will tyne the croun,
And all ȝoure landis halelie forlore,
For we haue men þat fleis nocht fra schore;
Bot sen ȝe ar ladyis in sic degrie,
And has ȝoure nature and conditioun,
We sall ȝow make [na] molestatioun,
Bot gar ȝoure husbandis of þe maist wourthy,
Cum speik [with ws], withoutin velany,
And for ȝoure saikis we sall thame mak gude chere,
And farther thame in that [thay] haue mister—
Giff ony man vexis þame vranguslie,
We sall tak plane parte with thame wtirlie,
For we knaw vele þat ȝe lufe nocht Porrus,
For he hes bene to ȝow richt velan[us];
And treistis wele, all word we to ȝow send,
We sall fulfill vnto the vittirest ende.”

Quhen þat þis pistill to þe quene was cumyn,
And rede, and all the langage to hir nummyn,
Scho was richt blayth, and thankit þe wourthy king,
Quhilk till hir send sa gratius ansuering;
And furthwith thare send and made reddie
Ane hundreth lordis in-till a cumpaney,
With thame five hundreth knichtis in gud array
Send till his ost to conditt him the way
Out-throw thare maneland, feistand ryaly.
Sone efter þat scho send honourablie
Ane hundreth palfrayis, quhite as quhalis bane,
With goldin hernes trappit oure ilkane,

A croun of gold, maist ryall of renoun,
With sic ane stane was wourth any myllioun,
With mony vther iowellis richt mychtie,
And hir commendit till his seneȝorie;
And syne scho come and mete him apoun þe way,
Ane thousand ladyis in þare best array,
Armit at all poyntis in þare first meting,
And lichtit syne, and chengit þare clething.
And first scho feistit him apoun þe meane-land,
And euerie ladie hi[r] husband in hir hand,
And syne thai rowit him in within þe ilis—
The flude of brade was [four-and-twenty] milis—
And thare thai festit him richt ryalie,
And he the ladyis made gud cumpaney;
And tuke him to thare lord and governoure,
And of þame and thare landis protectoure.
Than Alexander, quhilk honerabill was ay,
Rewardit thame sa michtelie that thai
War wourth of him for ane penny ane pound,
Confermyt thame ladyis of þare awne ground,
And tuke his leiff with grete solempnitie:
Thus vesyit he the land of Femyne.

Quhan he was cummyn throw-out þe desertis of Ynde,
Than Porrus, quhilk was euer intill his mynd,
He made provisioun for ane new batall,
And newlingis semblit all his power hale,
And sett his batall in [-to] gud arrey,
And thocht to byde and mete him in þe way,
Thinkand that hors and man sould famyst be.
Quhan he come throw the wildernes in þat cuntre,
Sa come þare to the king ane messingere
Fra Madyn Land, sayand in þis maner,
To warne him how the King of Ynde, Porrus,
Was sett in batall for to mete him thus,
And how he had five hundreth oliphantis,
Quhilk as before he to the batall dantis,
Ane thousand chariotis with hukis strang,
Grete as sythis, quhilk was baith scharpe and lang,
And ȝitt he had tua hunder myle to pas

Off wildernes, war na the tothir was,
Off hete, of dragouns, and of want of fude,
And send him fourty gydis þat war gude,
For to gyde him out-throw the wildernes,
Quhare best finding and wattir was;
And gif him likit ony of þe laif
Off hir menȝe, bad him bot ask and haue.

The guydis him guydit out-throw þe last deserte,
With mekill hunger and thirst and panis smerte,
Quhare edderis, serpentis, liouns, and dragounis,
Hillis and craggis, forestis but ony tovnis
War in þare way, quhare herbry gatt thai nane,
And of thare menȝe tynt had money ane.
The wattir was sa bittir and sa brak,
Thare was na man micht drink it but a lak,
Quhill at the last þai fand ane fresche fontane,
To quhilk the ost to refresche þame ar gane.

Tua hunder oliphantis war in his cumpaney,
Chargit with gold and siluer and perry,
Ane thousand mulis, camelis, and dromedaris,
With wther cartis and chariottis þat with þame þare is,
Chargit with riches and armory,
With iowellis and veschell, and with tressoury;
Ane multitude vnnomerabill of catall,
Off all maner of kynd of bestiall,
With merchantis in þare buthis and palliouns,
Richt as þai war in ceiteis and in townis,
And everie day it was like till ane fare,
As in ane merkett, þare was sa grete repare,
With changeouris, cunȝeouris, bying and selling,
And men of craft ay forgeand everie thing,
That sic haboundance was of all riches
That everie man was riche, mare and les.

Bot of freche wattir was þe maist skant þat þai hade,
Throw quhilk þe pepill sic ane murmoure made
That sum drank vly, sum drank thare awne steling,
Sum soukis barkis of treis, sum vther thing,
Sum like irne, sum rubbis flynt or stanis,
That all the folk till vther made sic manys

That petie was to here þare grete regrate;
Quhilk all the folk sa werry was and mate,
Quha in sic tyme had cummyn on þare menȝe,
Full esely þai micht discomfist be.
Than Alexander, for hete and thrist he had,
Likit the pomill of his swerde, and blade.
Syne efter that come liouns and dragounis,
Oliphantis, grete swyne and furious—
The swyne war grete as hors is in þis land,
The liouns quhite and mekill and fast rampand;
The liouns war als mekill, or wele mare,
Na ony oxin þat in þis cuntre war.
Sa come þare wodwiȝ, rouch, men of mekill strenth,
Quhilk had as semyit [fiftene] fute of lenth,
With grete rauff treis into thare hand þai had,
And on þe armit men grete strakis lade.
Syne come þare beistis, as camelis or wele mare,
Quhilkis lang scharpe hornes in þare hedis bare,
And vodly rampand oure the men þai ran—
Thay tuke na kepe quhilk was besit, quhilk was man.
The wodwiȝ chasit þe beistis vp and doun,
With thare grete bloykkis to gett thame venesoun;
Thare wiffis syne come efter thame rynnand,
Ilkane ane grete sapplyne into þare hand,
And fellit of þe feyast of þe swyne,
And to the small catall þai tuke þame syne;
And in defending of þare small catall,
Thay sett apoun þame all the hale batall,
And of thame tuke and slew grete quantetie;
Als þai gart money of the batall de:
Quh[am] that thay hitt with full strak, þai war tynt—
Thare mycht nane armoure saif thame fra þare dynt.
Thai beistis, quhilkis þi hornes lang had þus,
Thare hornes was baith scharpe and vennomus,
With grete scherpe teith, and subtell of ingyne—
The oliphantis þai slew, and ete thame syne.
Off sic beistis we can nocht tell the names,
Bot in tong of Ynde þai call þame sidendranys.

Quhen Alexander þame saw, þan his curage grew,

For oft before sic felloun beistis he slew,
And on him sett, and brocht Bussiffall,
And he that sparit neuer his travell
Gais to gud spede, and hitt him on þe side,
And till him made ane wound, was brade and wide,
That to þe erde he past, and gaif ane ȝell,
The likest it had bene ane feynd of hell;
His bake and hede sa armit was with plate,
That thare was na man mycht strake apoun him gate
Bot in þe wame, of platis quhilk was bare—
Quhat was þare ellis bot he was endit thare.
Than fand thai thare ane stank of wattir fresche,
Quhilk was grovin with redys and with resche:
The redis quhare þai lay, and brokin þare,
Grete as ane litill barrell lik þai ware;
Out of þai redis come myse and vther beistis,
Als grete as haris or toddis quhilkis þat leist is,
The dede men raif, and memberis bare away
Wnto thare cavis, in redis quhare thai lay;
And quhare þai bait men in þe nycht slepand,
Thai fand thame on þe morne all dede liand.
And the bakkis quhilkis flaw in þe evynnyngis
War mekill as cowschottis þat in woddis singis,
Quhilkis had letheryng wingis, with pykis lang;
And the nycht þai flaw þe folk amange,
Thai woundit mony men into þe face,
Sa scherpe the poyntis of þare wingis was.
Syne in the mornyning come grete multitude
Off beistis that wald drink into that flude;
Bot nane wald drink quhill that the vnicorne
Had drunkin, and purgit þe wattir with his horne,
Becaus the vennoun of þe tigris and dragouns
Had strublit all þe wattir with poysouns.
Than, efter þat þe beistis drunkin had,
The ost blew vp withoutin mare abade;
And sone thai come in-till ane fare cuntre,
Quhare thare was welth of leiffing at plentie.
Quhan thai saw thai war past þe wildernes,
Thai chesit thame ane plesing lugeing place,
And furthwith þai plantit þare palȝouns,

And send and fechit all new provisiouns.
The ryver quhare thai lay was callit Galus.
Off quhilk the newis come sone to King Porrus,
The quhilk in-till his harte grete mervell has
That thai war chapit throw the wildernes.

Than had Porrus assemblit his menȝe,
Off all þe power he micht gudlie be,
Bot neuertheles he askit trewis of pece
For [twenty] dayis, gif þat his willis was,
And wnder that contraffit ane grete dissate,
And sett apoun him, he tocht, at the wate.
Bot Alexander was wissare all way,
For every swyke him-selff beswykis ay;
Quhilk Alexander him grantis planely,
And vnder that purvayit him mychtely,
And restit him, and all his ost refreschit,
For thai war all with hete and hunger thr[e]schit.
For Alexander wald nocht the trewis giff
Bot all merchantis to cum and gang had leif—
Thus stude the merkett euer contynually,
And his ost was recomforte mychtely,
The quhilk was almaist famyst for defalt;
And had thai in the tyme gevin thame a salt,
Thai mycht haue bene discomfeist esely—
For hete and hunger and thrist þai war slepy,
And sic ane tyme ane ost may be ouretane,
That few men may discomfeist mony ane.

Alexander lay on the ryver of Galus,
And in the citie of Baultre lay Porrus,
To quhilk bot was ane half iournay betene,
For Alexander vald richt fane him haue sene;
And callit to him Caulus in privatie,
And tocht how thai micht pas him for to se.
Sa tuke thai to thare purposis and avise
To change þare clething, and thame dissagise,
Like as thai merchantis war, or officeris,
And tuke with thame siclike graith as efferis;
And callit Alexander the kingis tortissare,
And sum men callis þe kingis walk-makare,
And Caulus cald his knave familiare syne;

And cled thame in tua cottis of camyllyne,
Richt husband-like, and nocht in clething gude—
Thai war baith richt vnlikly quhare þai stude.
And syne þai lap baith on vnlikly as,
On quhilk ane pellane sadill girdit was,
Stuffit with strea, and þareon cassin ane poik;
Caulus kest syne ane vnlikly cloik,
Ane pare of crelis for to put in sum ware,
And syne past furth, tua merchandis as þai war.

Thus to þe toun of Baultre passit thai,
With cuntre-men þai fand passand the way,
And with thai cuntremen þai passit talkand,
For thai knew wele the langage of þe land
(The maner of þe trewe was takin sa
That all merchandis sould planely cum and ga).
Thus towarte the citie as þai went,
To spy thare fais, and to knaw thare entent,
Thai mete of gentill men ane grete menȝe
Ridand about the citie for to se,
The quhilkis, quhan thai saw cumand fra the ost,
Like drunkin carlis, crakand with mekill boist,
Thay bade and spak, and speris of þare tything,
Giff þai of þe Gregios wist onything.
Than Alexander made the first ansure,
Sayand that [h]e cum fra the men of were,
And that he was with thame richt speciall,
And knew richt wele alhale the gouernale.

Than was King Porrus thare in his avne persoun,
And fane vald hald with thame collatioun,
And sperit at him quhat kyn a man he was,
“I am ane torche-maker, be Godis grace;
Ane hors-verlot is in my cumpaney,
Is cumyn hors-helteris and schone to by,
And I vald fane be walx, and weik alsa,
To my lordis chalmer wax lichtis to ma;
And fare schir, gif ȝe be ane officer,
We pray ȝow to gar ws haue entre here,
That we may by oure merchandeis, we tua—
Thay say merchandreis may sauflie cum and ga.”

Than sayis Porrus, “Gif þow a torchere be,

Thow art oure vsfill a man, as semys me,
Off sic ane prince ane office for to beare,
With thai foul pellane and thai drourrymere.”
Than said the king, “Fare schir, I sall ȝow say:
Oure maisteris ar fordoverit all the way,
Sum hungerit, sum ar seik for thrist and hete;
Thus fourtie dayis gatt we [n]ane fill of mete,
Nocht anys oure fill of freche wattir to drink—
The wattir of þis land has sic ane stynk;
Quharefore we ar bot seruandis cummyn here,
To mak seruice in stede of oure maistere.”

Than said Porrus, “How standis it with ȝoure king?
How hes he governit him into sic ane thing?”
“Full ill, gudman, and ȝe wist all the soith—
Ȝone wildernes sa hate is, and sa mvth,
And poysound all with beistis venemous,
It is ferly that we haue chapit þus:
Thare is na man that is chapit bot a lake,
For we haue all oure dede apoun oure bak,”
“Bot of þe king, gude fallow, I the pray,
The soithfastnes þat þow vauld to me say,
And I sall gar the haue sum courtessy,
Off sum mony, þai merchandreis to by.”

Than said Caulus, “Þow terryis here all day,
Quhill helteris and hors-schone will be away,
And of candill-wekis þow sall get nane
In this merkett quhan tyme of day is gane.”
Than said Porrus, “My gude fallow, latt be—
Thare is yneuch in þis merkett for þe
Off schone, of nalis, of wax and weik,
And helteris als sall cost þe bot þai speik.”

Than lukit Alexander on side to Schir Caulus,
Sayand, “I trow God send þis man to ws,
To mend ws with sum siluer to þe drink”;
With that he nodit, and begouth to wenk.
Than said Caulus, “Þat war ane gudlie thing—
Than mycht we by, and spaire oure awne spending.”
With that Porrus said till ane lord him by,

“This thing cumynis vele—we neid nane vther spy,”
And rownyt till him, and syne tuke in his hand
Ane neffull of gold, of cunȝe of þe land,
Sayand, “Methink ȝow art ane fallow fyne—
Mak the gud chere, pas in and drink þe wyne,
And syne þow fill þi bottell of the best;
Spare nocht to spend quhill þis mony may lest.”

Than said Porrus, “Gude fallow, I pray the,
Off Alexander and his prosperetie—
How standis it with him, sen all the ost ar sa?
Me think þow said he may nowthir ride na ga.”
“Treulie,” said he, “he gais bot þus and þus”—
And fenȝeit as he war decerpitus—
“His memberis crukit and vnfery ar—
Men doutis that he recover neuer mare;
He is corrumpit and brokin in his cors—
Bot he haue helpe, he may neuer lepe on hors;
He brekis out of scabis all his bodie—
He may neuer were nane armoure, trest treulie;
And oft he takis ane bluding at his nois:
It is petie, sa wourthy a man he was.”

Than said Porrus, “Fallow, thow art wourth þe wyne—
Thow sall a pare of botellis haue of myne;
Pas in and make þe gude chere, I pray þe.
Quhen thow has doune, cum furth and speik with me;
And thow will bare my lettir to þi king,
I sall the gif a bettir gardonying.”
The king says, “Be lay that I on liff,
My awne handis the lettir sall him giff.”
Than said the king, “Bot quha will kepe oure mere
Quhill we pas in þe toun to by oure gere?”
The King Porrus said, “Toirchere, for þi saik
Thare sall na man ane penny fra the tak,
For nocht þat þow will tak of merchandice.”
The king ansuerid, said, “Fare schir, gra-mercys.”
The king gart feche grete flakkis full of wyne,
Wer of fyne gold, gaif him his lettir syne.
Thai drank into the toun, and gude chere mais—
Quhateuer þi tuke, na man a penny tais.

Ane grete birding of helteris þai haue tane,
Off weik and wax, and hors-schone mony ane,
And at the porte thai bocht ane wther mere,
And ilkane of thame rede on his awne gere;
Thai feinȝeit thame as þai had drunkin yneuche—
For thare maneris, all men þat saw thame leuch,
Thai tuke thare leiff, and hamewart sone þai hyitt,
And all the maner of þe citie spyit.

The lordis war abasit of þe king,
Wend that he had bot slepit þe mornyning;
Sa was ridand Dawclyne and Tholomee
About the feildis, the cuntre for to se,
Saw tua sum cum, merchandis as þai ware,
Thocht thai wald bide, sum newis for to spere.
Thay knew thame nocht, thai war sa ny[ce]ly cled,
Bot to the kingis palȝoun thai come led,
And thare thai war dispuleȝit sone of all thing—
Tha[n] fe[r]lyit thai þat it sould be þe king.
The king gart sembill þe douseperis all in fere,
And tauld thame all the case and the maner,
And schaw thame als þe flakkounys and þe wyne,
And of þe gold and of the letteris syne,
Off his gude and of his merchandise
Quhilk thai had gottin, and cost þame litill price,
And how þai had him sene, and spyit alhale
His ost, his citie, and his gouernale,
And tald thame all the maner of his talking,
And how he send this lettir to þe king,
The quhilk contenit nathing bot diffyance
Till him, his lordis, and all his allyance.
Be this the oist richt wele refreschit was,
And hade yneuch of victuale and riches;
He callit his counsale and his governance,
And of his batallis made his ordinance.

Quha was blithare na was Porrus þe king
That he of Alexander had sic tything,
Thinkand to wyn him and the cuntre hale,
And he micht anys ouretak him in batall;
And semblit all þe princis of þe Orient,
And with all power to þe feild is went:

Wele [sevin-and-twenty] kingis with him þare was,
Ane hundreth dukis and merquissis, mare and les—
He was of men wele five hundreth thousand,
And neuer man bot of his propir land.
Off all kingis Porrus maist michty was
That was before him, saiffand Exerses,
Quhilk Egipt conquest, and mekill of Occident,
Quhen Neptanabus made his enchantment,
And saw the godis of þe est cuntre
Suld of þe westland goddis maister be—
And thus him-selff he bannyst of þe land
Als lang as þai estir goddis war regnand;
Syne be þe ansure of god Syraphus
It was revelit þat god Neptanabus
Off his body a blosum sould remane,
Suld bring Egip to fredome all agane,
And of all landis sould mak vnetie,
Fra Paradise vnto þe Occiane Se.

Than Porrus wend all thing south had bene,
As the thorchere before had gart him wene,
And tocht he sould ourethraw þe Gregiȝoȝ hale.
And all the laif was cummyn in his batale,
And ordanit him of chareottis ane thousand,
With hukis as sithis scharpe and wele scherand;
Five hundreth oliphantis as of before he had,
With somer-castellis on þare bakkis brade,
And ordanit þame to fecht, and na man tak,
Becaus the birnand men his batall brak.
Than Alexander gart mak for þame agane—
For he had evir spyis to witt thare trane—
Grete delffis in þe erde before his men,
Richt depe, of lenth and brede, and cubeittis ten,
And maid of thame richt mony, to and fra,
Quhare þare batall behuffit for to ga:
For caus he wist wele all thare ordinance,
Tharefore he chusit þe feild at his plesance—
It is grete witt to chiftane, and gane forthwart,
To tak in fechting ay defenderis part.

Than Alexander his batall had devisit
Lang tyme before, and chiftanis to thame chesit:

To wourth Dawclyne he the vangard gaif,
And ilkane held the ordoure of þe laif;
And alsua Askarus, King of Nubie,
Had the vangard of Porrus cumpaney.
[T]he bemes blew, þe folk togidder strak,
And everie man in fechting chusit ane make:
Thus Dauclyn and the King of Nuby mett.
The quhilk ilkane sa graithl[i]e vther grett,
With scherpe speris in myddis of þe scheild,
Quhill hors and man lay flachtlingis in þe feild;
Off Dauclyn baith þe girthis and sadill birst,
And sonest on his fette he gat vp first,
And Askarus sa stonyst was and dosit
That sicht and hering wele nere he had losit.
Than Dauclyn with ane brand him beffit sare,
And bakwart to þe erde agane him bare,
And on þe left schulder hit him quhare he lay,
Wnder þe scheild, and strake his arme away—
He bled sa fast quhare he lay on þe ground
That he was dede within ane litill stound.

The Duke Baulter was cumand in þe tyde;
The king him saw with sic a pomp and pride—
He spurrit Bussifell, and till him drew,
And strak him throw the body, and þare him slew;
Syne till ane wther, of Sadoch King þat was,
And hors and man straik baith doun in þe pres.
With that the oliphantes come in arrey,
And made þe kingis ost sa grete affray,
For till bot few he schew his subtell wittis,
Throw quhilkis he made the delphis, holis, and pittis.
Porrus wist wele he had na man of bras,
As of before his batall vincust was;
And for he saw that Alexander was thare,
Sa fresche on hors, and nowtherane seik na sare,
Quhilk the torchear had made him lesing,
He made mare dred and dout, be mekill thing,
And kest in-till his hart it sould be he
Quhilk had contruffit sic ane subtelete:
His hart was dredand for his grete fortoun,

And for the wourthy dedis that he had doun.

Syne come thare in thre kingis of Tartaryn,
The King of Cartage and of Belmaryn,
And with thame mony bla men in batall,
Quhilkis followit on the oliphantis hale,
Thinkand quhan thai had schawin þare vigure,
Thay sould conclude all þis discomfiture.
Thay gart sa clene þe erde bere fra þe! place
Quhare that the delffis and holis makin was,
And coverit oure with treis and turfis grene,
That in þe warld þare was na man vald wene
Bot it war clene and far vndemest land:
Quhill at the last thay come on fast stalpand,
And sidlingis þame sa grete a multitude
Off chareotis, quhare the hukis and sithis stude,
The quhilkis vpone þe Gregioȝ tocht to sett,
And on the Massadanus þame for to lett.

Bot lord! quhat þare was hidduous goule and granis,
Quhen cartis and oliphantis all fell doun attanis,
And founderit in þai pittis, that all men saw.
Than Alexander gart all the trumpetis blaw,
And sic ane rerde was in that ost that day,
Quhan everie carte tumland on vthir lay,
And oliphantis and castellis fell in sounder—
Þocht Porrus than was wa, it was na wounder.
The dousperis, quhilkis in þe kingis batall ware,
Ilkane of þame sett on his fallow þare:
The King of Maroc Tholome strak doun,
The Duke Melor sa did Emenedoun;
Dauclyn to Porrus dressit him inkirly,
And he agane mett him richt manfuly,
And brake þare speris in þe myddis of þe pers;
Bot Alexander, þat nereby reddy was,
Spurrit Bussifall als fast as he micht found,
And strake him hors and man baith to þe ground,
And on him lichtit, and sesit him presonere.
Bot he was sone reskewit in gud maner,
And brocht agane amange his menȝe all;
Bot quhan he saw his cartis and oliphantis fall,

And of his men slane sic ane multitude,
Than out of witt he wox nerehand, as wod,
And said to Alexander on fer, and cryid,
And prayit him to gar his batallis byde,
And spak with him in hope of gud trety,
To mak frendschip, and latt all weris be,
And he sould make him manrent be his hand,
Saiffand his lyffe, his wourschip, and his land,
And in all thing to governe at his will.

Than Alexander consentit sone þaretill,
And gart þe batallis sone arrengit be,
And Porrus richt sa did till his menȝe;
Than King Porrus hes tane his swerde in hand,
And come to Alexander on fute rakand,
And him betaucht þe swerde vp be þe hilt,
Sayand, “Oure mekill of mannis blude is spilt—
Tharefore I rede we mak frendschip for ay;
And here I am ȝoure man, be my gud fay,
And for to pas with ȝow in ȝoure conquest,
To serve ȝow lelely quhill my lyffe may lest.”
King Porrus was a man of hi[e] renovne,
Ane mekill man, and of ane sture fassoun;
And Alexander was of litill quantete,
Bot richt wele made and wele-favorit was he,
For in that tyme in all þis warld na was
Sa mekill vertew into sa litill space—
For litill thing oft tymes may be full gude,
For wictoure makis nother strenth na multitude.

Than Alexander recauit him till his grace,
And grantit him, before all þat þare was,
That of all his landis suld he be lord,
For he bad na thing bot soueranite,
And prayit him þat he vald with him wend
To wesy all the grete mervellus of Ynde.
And he him grantit that, with richt gud will,
With all seruice þat he micht do him till,
And all lordis and princis halely
Come to the king, richt blayth and iofuly,
And made him homage and soueranete,
At his bidding and seruice for to be.

The king gart cry that all þare men war ane,
And all his men with Porrus ride and gane,
And cheiff nixt him of all his cumpaney,
First of counsale, and prince of chevelry.

Than Alexander before þe lordis hale
Callit all the ost and pepill in generale,
And made Porrus lorde of his awne cuntre,
And next him-selff, ledare of his menȝe.
Than said Porrus, “Now se I wele, but wene,
That mony lesingis on ȝow made hes bene,
For men callit ȝow cuvatus, but ressoun, all ramage,
Vncunnand, gredy, fyry, and savage,
And but gentrice, þat na man micht ȝow trowe;
Off quhilk I se all þe contrare now,
For I se wele ȝe ar baith war and wise,
And of largeis and gentrice beris þe price:
And here for me my seruice I ȝow gif,
My lufe, my laute, my hart quhill I liffe—
Sa fare ane gift was nevir gevin to man
As ȝe may gif, sen first the warld begane.”
Than Alexander gart deliuer all agane
His castellis, townis, lordschipis, and demane,
And all þe presoneris þat takin was,
He gart deliuer agane into that place.
Than Porrus led the king till his palece principall,
And of riches bald him tak will and wale,
And feistit him, and rayale chere him made,
And of his gold tak quhat he wald, him bade;
And bad his lordis tak thame of þe best
Gold or tressoure or iowellis, quhat þame list.
Than said the king, “I bid nocht ȝoure tressoure—
I desire bot ȝoure lufe and ȝoure favoure.”

Than chesit thai out a certane of cumpaney,
For þai bad nocht of pepill oure money,
Becaus that Alexander desirit to se
The sindrie kyndis of folkis in þat cuntre;
And furth þai past, and seik thare aventure,
Ane wourthy ost of sturdy men and sture.
Thay fand ane pepill callit was Stalbianis,
And efter, ane wther þat callit was Vareanis;

The thrid pepill callit war Perymones,
Quhilkis ilkane of sindrie langage was.
Syne fand he ane pepill callit Aspios,
And syne ane wthir, þe quhilk was callit Mangos.
Syne come thai till ane montane mervellus,
Quhare nixt it was ane waill richt hidduous,
In the quhilk waill it was all-wayis nycht,
Quhare na man micht ane vther se with sicht,
For it was all oure-[silit] with ane cloude;
Bot ȝitt þe folk tharein was spekand loude—
Thay come neuer furth, na commonit with na men.
It stude betuix tua hillis in a glen—
Off thare merknes wist nane þe caus quhy;
To nane þai commonit, nor made cumpaney.

Syne come þai till ane land of grete riches,
Quhare mony richt fare men and women was,
And stately cled in clathis of gold clenely,
Quhilk governit þame richt wounder honestlie;
And all thir folk made him obedience,
With grete giftis, honoure, and reuerence.
Thare housis was of metall biggit all,
Sum gold, sum siluer þe tymmer, grete and small,
And sum of irne, efter þare qualete,
For in thare land þare grew na vther tre.
Money wylde beistis, as serpentis and dragouns,
War in that land, baith tygris and liouns;
Ane revare grete, quhilk was sa stiff rynnand
That na veschell mycht pas fra land to land.

Syne was ane ile off wodwiȝ stark and sture,
All taty rouch, of manly portrature,
With mony wemen of þe samin kynd,
Quhilkis wounnand war in þai desertis of Ynde.
Syne come þare sic ane herde of oliphantis
And vnycornis þat in that cuntre hantis,
On quhilkis þe wodwyȝ huntit and made were;
An[e] sapplyne in þare hand ilkane þai bere—
Thay war wele [fiftene] fute in lenth, or mare,
Wele half ane elne of lenth þare schortest here;
The appill of þe cheik, with fute and hand,
Was smeith as we, na hare þareon growand.

The womanys richt sua hingand pappis [h]as,
And fer ferrer na men þai had þare face.
Trest wele, quhare gold and gere maist growand is,
Is nocht maist plesand duelling þare, I wis—
Thai folk liffis on na thing bot on venesoun,
And duellis in craggis, and nowther in hous nor toun.
And quhan thai saw the armyt men cum sua,
[Thay] lap into þe flude, and swame þame fra—
Thay tuke alsweill þe fische into þe flude,
Richt as þai did þe wylde beistis in wode;
Thare teith was like þe tuskis of a swyne—
Thay ete raw flesche, and drank þe blude out syne.
In-to that land thare was a beist fleand,
With hornes apoun hir hede standand
The quhilk was hard as flent, the lenth of a span,
Quhilk in the vissage hurt mony a man.
The butterfleis ar grete as dowis ar here,
With wþer foulis of mervellus maner.
Into that land the hete is mervellus
In sommer sessoun, ay richt perrelus;
In winter, quhill sic tempestis ar, but dout,
And quh[i]lis sic hete þat na man may byde thareout.

Syne efter þis in ane cuntre þai come
Quhilk Bragmanaris ar callit be þare name,
Apoun ane revare cummys fra Paradice,
Quhare riches ay redoundis mony wise,
With alkyn beistis, catell, corne, and ky,
Baith gold and siluer and pretius perry;
The silk, the woll, apoun the treis þare grew,
And everie moneth frute ripand new.
The folk war swete, gentill, of gude maner,
And to the king þai made richt wourth chere.
Thai had ane king was callit Dyndimus,
And till him wrette þe king ane pistill þus:

“Kyng Alexander, þe king of kingis with croun,
Sone to þe Quene Olimpias and Amoun,
To the King of Bragmarmaris, Dindimus,
With ioy and blythnes sendis greting þus:
We haue hard tell of ȝoure gudlie leving,

The quhilk has plesit ws in mekill thing,
That reulis ȝow with wertew and iustice;
And all ȝoure folk ar haldin kindly wise,
And governis sua into ȝoure awne cuntre
That of nane vther menis helpe nede ȝe;
And als into ȝoure-selff sa wise ȝe ar
That ȝe nede nocht of na vther mennis lare.
Quharefore we mak ȝow prayer hartfully
That ȝe vauld find ws of þe maist worthy
Off ȝoure clerkis, to teich ws of ȝoure liffing,
Off ȝoure visdome, ȝoure vertew and haiffing,
That we micht follow ȝoure gudly governance,
For oure liffe has fra ȝouris grete distance;
For men sayis that ȝe watt richt mekill thing
Quhilk we haue nocht into oure gouernying,
And mekill merite is to teich and ken,
Quha maist of witt has, to vnwitty men,
For visdome is like to ane lamp of licht,
Quhilk in þe myrk garris sichtles men haue sicht,
And with his licht may lichting all the laif,
And ȝitt his lamp na les of licht sall haue.
And hereattoure my faith to ȝow I fest,
Thare sall nane do displesance na molest
To ȝow na ȝouris, in na maner of wise,
Bot pleis thame in oure best maner of wise.”
Quhan that this pistill come to Dyndimus,
Ane vthir pistill he sendis to þame þus:

“Till Alexander, the king of kingis with croun,
The sone of Quene Olimpias and god Amon,
We, Dyndimus, the King of Bragmanaris,
Greting till ȝow and all þat with ȝow þare is,
Prayand oure goddis to saue ȝour excellance [OMITTED]
In quhilk ȝe say ȝe desire oure all thing
To ken oure law, and maner of oure liffing,
The quhilk is grundit apoun veretie,
On sapience and perfite cheretie;
For quhilk men suld gif ȝow a grete loving
That ȝe desire visdome atoure all thing,
For quha desyris visdome and soithfastnes,

Is takin þat þai ar in þe way of grace:
For vise men ar nocht repute anerly
The men that hes þe wisdome propirly,
Bot als wele þat it desirit to haue
May wele be coimptit wise men amange þe laif.
And sic thing is mare lovabill in a king
Na ony vther man, be mekill thing,
For visdome passis all thing in gudenes:
For visdome is nocht bot the way of grace,
Quhilk ledis men to ioy þat lestis euer,
And garris his harte fra wikkitnes disseuer;
For king that has na visdome na prudence,
How sould he hald folk in obedience?
He may nocht lang hald dominatioun,
Þocht for a tyme he bare ane saikles croun,
Bot his subiectis sall maister oure þame be
Quhen he wenys best to reule his maiestie.

“Crovn is nocht gevin onlie for dignetie,
To syre in sege of he soueranite,
Bot to kepe law to all men, and iustice,
Quhilk thare may na man do bot he be wise;
And gif him-selff can nocht sic gouernale,
Than sould he cheis him men of wise counsale,
And cheris thame, and hald thame nere his cors,
And than behuffis him for to be wise of force.
Bot mony wenyis þat riches visdome ay has,
Bot maist of wisdome leist of riches mais—
Quhare maist of riches is, thare is maist foly,
For it and visdome haldis neuer gud cumpaney.
Tharefore I traist, þocht ȝe oure custumiȝ knaw,
Ȝe may neuer kepe oure liffing na oure law,
For we lufe nane þat luffe has to riches—
Mare he lufe God, he luffis riches þe les.
Als we trow nocht in sic goddis as ȝe,
Na ȝoure maneris we hald in na degre,
Na of ȝoure custumes we desire na thing,
Na kepis nocht for to knaw of ȝoure liffing;
Or quhat may proffitt ȝow oure vse to knaw,
Bot gif ȝe had desire to kepe oure law,
Or quhat may proffitt ȝow to schaw ȝow it

Be worde, bot gif ȝe had it into writt;
And gif it gais fra ȝoure opinioun,
Ȝe wald bot mak at ws derisioun.
Als ȝe ar fest sua into warldlynes,
Quhilk severis fra þe gate of gudelynes,
And oure law makis mentioun of na thing
Bot þat pertenis to euerlestand liffing,
For saul merit, and for to wyn þe glore
Off lestand liffe, quhilk we ar ordand for.

“Bot sa that men say nocht þat we this do
For pride, or for haitrent we haue ȝow to,
We sall discrive ȝow sum part, for cheretie,
Off oure custumes, grundit in veretie:
We Bragmanaris [ar] sympill in oure lyving,
Quhilkis to kepe law has chosing oure-selff ane king,
Quhilkis kepis sa wele þe laye þat we liff in;
We kepe bidding, and haldis ws out of syn,
Na we will nocht excede in arrogance,
Bot in all thing contentis ws sufficience—
With litill fude we tempir oure liffing,
For nature is content of litill thing.
We sustene all iniuris with patience,
For vrang na revery we mak na defence.
We haue na ioy of superfluite,
Bot ay content to liff in sympilte;
We hald gude liffing þe erde for to laboure,
To wyn þe sustinance of oure nature,
The sede to saw, and syne þe grouth to g[a]dder,
And liff in le, as forrow did oure fader.

“We hald leful to ete þe frute of treis,
And herbis that growis in gardingis, as men seis,
To sett nettis, and tak the fische of fludis,
And all sic senles gouernance þat gude is,
And beistis and foule þat fleis in oure regioun,
Ordanit for mannis sustentatioun;
Bot we ete neuer of oure awne mete oure fill,
Bot sobirly ay liffand with gude will.
Thare is na thing mare of oure dede we wite
Bot for to ete quhill we tyn appetite.
Quha wald haue lang liffe and prosperete,

In mete and drink suld euermare sobir be,
For traist wele, man quhilk daly etis his fill
Sall nocht liff lang withoutin vncouth ill;
And als with ws a man war haldin vnwise
For till excede in mete in ony wise,
And quh[an] we sic ane man of liffing knaw,
We bannis him, baith fra oure land and law—
We will nocht thole na wicis with ws rest,
For vicious men of outrage may nocht lest.

“It suffice ws oure nedis of nature,
And of na surfett haue we neuer cure—
Tharefore þare will na siknes till ws ryn.
We haue na myster of na medicyn:
Fra cald, exces, fra women and fra wyne [OMITTED]
Sic abstinence haldis euer oure nature hale,
And kepis ws þat we de nocht quhill oure day.
And þus but pane deand, we were away
But ony langoure or infirmetie—
We faid as frute þat fallis of þe tre,
Or lamp þat hes na vly, all consumyt.
And þis oure liffe has euer bene custumyt,
For alsua naturall is ane man to de
As to be borne, as in oure law fynd we;
And quhasa deis anys wele, þai wald neuer
Out of þat liffe þat thai ar in dissever,
Mare na a king þat leiffis here out of pane
Wald in his moder wame be put agane.
Nec vllum medicamentum ad vitam nostram prolongandam querimus
Ne seik we nowther herbe na medicine
Quhan we se that to dede we mon inclyne,
Bot oure saul in His handis we commend
That ws has made, and in þis warld ws send,
Traistand it gais till Him but mare abade,
For to remane with Him þat it has made.
We haue nowther cald nor hete attoure mesure,
Na felis na panys, seiknes, nor dolloure;
Oure desiris we fill nocht in na kynd,

Bot in als fer as nature giffis throw kynd;
Oure housis all ar hale of a mesure,
And everie man elike has of honoure,
For God of mankynd made na differance,
Bot vertew bringis a man till excellance.
We ete and drink þat is necessite,
And liffis togidder all in comynyte,
Na nede na iustice nor correctioun,
For we mak na exces of vnressoun.

“Bot ȝe that is ane emprioure maist he,
Quhilk of out fais has supe[r]iorete,
And hes ourecumyin ȝoure outwart fais on fors,
Study to fleme þe fais out of ȝoure cors,
For wald ȝe h[a]ld ȝoure inwart fais at were,
Ȝoure outwart fais suld neuer do ȝow dere.
We ete sic kynde of mete as best we think,
With sobirnes, and clene wattir we drink;
The skynnys of beistis þat we ete,
We mak in claithis, to kepe ws fra þe hete,
And fra the cald into þe winter tide,
For at na fire we haue na will to byde.
We do all thing in name of Him þat beildis,
Quhilk is oure God, and to Him gracis ȝeildis.
We haue na guidis, riches, nor nane will haue,
Na cravis na gude, nor na man will we crave;
We speik but litill, bot prayer and loving,
Ay ȝeildand grace to þe Hevinnis King.

“We ar nowther gredy nor covatus:
And quhatsumeuer be avaricius,
The gold of all þis warld him fillis nocht,
And quhan he deis, þe richest has richt nocht,
For we desire pouerte and sympilnes.
Tharefore þare is na invy in oure place:
We haue na pledis, na armoure nane we bare—
We desire bot pace, lufe, treuth, sobirnes, bot were.
We gif na gracis na remissiouns,
For here is nane þat has falt of perdouns.
We lufe nane exces in na kynd of degre,
Na with na kynd of syn smyttit ar we.
We haue neuer suddand dede in oure ending,

Na wengance cumand for oure mysdoing,
For we fyle nocht the are for oure mysdede.
Bot all thing that we do requiris nede:
We pride ws nocht of iolite of claithis,
Na ȝitt oure wiffis na pridfull clething has—
Quhat difference is betuix the carioun
That is cled in burale, forbe in skarlett broun?
We tak na bathis, nor nane vnȝementis,
For þat we coimpt grete syn in oure ententis,
Wenand to mend the fessoun of nature,
Quhilk God hes made till oure awne portratoure—
Men may nocht do to God mare displesing
Na wene to mend his mak in ony thing.

“Ilkane is elike seruand here till wther,
For quhat ressoun war we oure brother
Suld apoun force compell till oure seruice,
Sen baith oure cors to God is of ane prise?
Quhan we ar cald, we draw ws to þe son,
Quhen oure grete hete, in cavis þan we w[o]n,
And vther bissines rycht nane haue we,
Bot thank and love and serue God quhill we de.
In oure awne hous we mak oure sepulture—
We haue na dred of man to steik oure dure.
Scolis of science cummys neuer here away,
Bot efter law of nature we liff ay,
For euer [ȝ]oure clerkis has sere opiniouns,
Discordand euer, and haldand nane vnyouns:
Bot laute has na contradictionis neuer—
Nane suth saw fra vther may disseuer,
Na lawte with ane vther may discorde;
All suthfastnes haldis euer in ane accorde,
And all discordance ar euer opynnables,
And all contrar opiniounis debatables.
Quhare mony haldis opiniouns all contrare,
It may neuer be bot money lesingis ar;
Off tua contrareis, ane man haue þe wite—
Thus may nocht all ȝoure science be perfite.

“We haue na playis, bot ay gude romanis redis,
Off oure foirbearis, and of thare worthy dedis;
To behald the hevin it is oure hie plesance,

The sternis, planettis, and thare ordinance,
And of the hevin, that is baith licht and bricht,
Thinkand that we sall anys cum to that sicht,
And how the grete God all the hevinnes steris,
And grew all thing in erde that here is.
We tak plesance of all thingis þat growis in wod,
Baith frute and beist, and fische into þe flude—
To thir plesance þare followis na chessoun,
For in this plesance is no thing bot ressoun.

“Now think on þis, hie mychty emprioure:
God has the sett in sege of grete honoure;
Thow has conquest grete lordschip and grete landis,
And all this warld obeyand to thai handis—
Quhat sall ȝow mare haue quhan þow sall part fra thyne
Na the leist boy of seruandis þat is thyne?
Bot all the roust, þe rankoure of þe syn
Sall cleve with the quhen saull and liffe sall twyn;
Off all this warld bot sevin fute sall þow haue—
To fremyit siris þow sall leif all þe laif.
Quhat wailȝeis þine honoure and thai glore,
Na all the walth that thow has had before,
Th[ai] conquest landis with iniquite,
Quhil[k] þow watt wele may nocht remane with the?
Thow forfettis lele man of þare heretage,
Off ather mennis guidis þow payis þi seruandis waig[e];
But ony caus, mony gude man hes slane,
Quhilkis þow may neuer bring to þe live agane;
Thow makis discorde amange þir regiouns all—
Bot haue in mynd quhat eftir þis man fall:
Thow watt thow art coruptable and mortall,
And may nocht here haue live perpetuall—
Quhat witt is than to man mortall as þe
To wyn to-nicht, wittand the morne to de,
And neuer to cum agane into þis land,
And wate sic charge þarefter is followand.
It may be erar callit rage and furioure
Off man, but knawlege of his Creature.

“Thow callis the son to God into þi writt—

How may it be þat þow has sic a witt,
To wirk the contrare of þi faderis will,
For all men watte þat God biddis do nane ill?
Thow callis the king of kingis and lordis all—
Sa grete ane pride may neuer end but ane fall.
Quhy sould þow lorde of all this erde call the?
The King of Hevin ordand nocht sua sould be.
Thow watt na lordschip nor na governance
May stand nor lest here but His ordinance—
It cummys bot of ane fulich pridy tocht,
To-nycht callit a lorde, to-morne les na nocht;
For wer na nocht he may be callit treuly,
Syne all the plicht apoun his saull mon lay.

“Ȝe mak writtis, and preichtis richtwis lawis,
Bot ȝoure dede followis nocht efter ȝoure sawis.
Ȝe [call him] wise that can discretly spek,
And to wyn warldis gude can wele him streik,
Bot we call thame mare wise that spekis les,
And liffis him wele, and coimptis na riches,
For quhat maist riches has in maiestie,
His chalmer boy spendis als mekill gude as he.
Than has he here nocht ellis bot the name,
And all the charge he baris, baith syn and schame.
We mervell how ȝe may thame wise men call,
Quhan but proffitt the end is folly all.
Ȝe mak ȝoure gravis and ȝoure sepulturis,
Sa crovyn craftely with grete honouris,
And to the tempill of God ȝe tak small tent,
Quhilk soundis nocht to richtwis iugment.
Ȝhe honoure werkis [þat] ȝoure handis mais,
And to God immortale tent nocht tais:
Bot God is mare honoritt with richtwis dedis,
For gudely wertew gudly saulis fedis.
The God immortale saul of all this warld is,
And all gouernis, all in His vertew standis,
And luvis na saul bot it be clere and clene,
Quhilk in vertew fra wikkit dede hes bene.
Ȝe traist that all the planetis goddis ar,
And all the spretis that fleis in the are,
Thir angellis als þat servis God Almycht:

Ȝe sould consedder ȝoure treuth is na thing richt,
For mannis saul hes mony officeris,
Sum smellis, sum gustis, sum twichis, seis, or heris;
Sum ar in memberis als of þe body,
Off quhilk the saul is maister halely.
Sa ar þir goddis þat ȝe se all in trowis
Wnder grete God, and at his bidding bowis—
Sic as ȝoure goddis ar, sic sal ȝe be,
The quhilk ar made of metall and of tre.
And vther sum ar feyndis fel and fre,
Quhilkis fell into the fall of Lucifer;
And all ȝoure delitis and besynes
Is all for warldis honoure and riches,
And for deliciousnes of ȝoure body,
Quhilk birnand is in ȝow contenualy:
All lust that ony man has mete apoun,
Quhan it is past þe thrott, the lust is gone,
And sindry lustis ar to sindry mettis,
The quhilkis ar gone quhan thai ar past the ȝettis.
And ȝitt ar mannis lustis all vns[l]okabill,
In riches and in metis variable,
Richt as the Hel that neuer will be content,
Þocht all the saulis in erde tharein war stent.
Quharefore we hald ȝoure livis bot wikketnes,
And all ȝoure saulis out of þe state of grace.”

Than Alexander, quahn he this pistill had sene,
He wex sa wraith, almaist he birst for tene—
He was dispisit and his goddis baith,
Na mervell was suppois he waix in wraith.
And till him hes ane vther pistill send,
As efterwart I sall ȝow here ostend:
“King Alexander, the king of kingis with croun,
The son to Quene Olympias and god Aymon,
To the King of Bragmanaris, Dyndymyn,
Greting, with salutatioun angevyn:
Giff all be soith the wordis that ȝe wreitt,
Ȝe wyn into þis warld richt grete merite,
For ȝe do na thing to ȝoure God displeis,
Na rekis nocht of ȝoure lustis na ȝoure eis,
And all in contrare of ȝoure appetite,

Ȝe do vertew, to wyn saul merite.
Thus war it like that ȝe mare goddis war
Na in nature of man, be mekill mare,
Quhilk in this erde in body incarnate
Is seildin sene, as all wise clerkis writte.
Ȝe call ws synneris, and synnys do ȝe nane,
Quhilk neuer was sene in man of blude and beane;
For mannis worde him-selff nocht iustefice—
His knawlege into Goddis iustice lyis.
Quhat gudis ws oure commendatioun?
Oure worde may nocht be approbatioun.
Ȝe call it leiffull to laubore, teill, and saw,
Bot ȝe will nocht amange ȝow kepe sic law,
Bot quhat that nature gevis, ȝe tak in gre,
Baith fleche and fische and frute of herbe and tre,
Quhilk war mare like þat it war beistlynes,
Or falt of craft, or eke for lichernes,
For wrechitnes, or imbesilite,
Or singularis, nocht like till vtheris be,
Invy, wanwitt, or falt of pollicy.
Or fenȝett gudnes for ypocrasy,
For God made nocht in erde sa nobill thingis
As wise men vsis in þare governynngis,
Bot for mankynd to life on and laboure;
For quhan He maid first mannis creature,
He made him lord of allkyn leving thing
Vnder the Hevin, till vse for his liffing,
And for mankynd all thing ordand He,
Baith beist and foule and fische into the se,
Baith frute and herbe and wther creature,
And ordanit him to liff on his laboure,
And ordanit him to honoure and to glore,
To wyn the sege that Adam tynt before,
And gaif þe erde till men in heretage,
And held the Hevin till him and his parrage;
And trest wele that men may haue gold and gere,
And ete gud metis, and worthy clathes were,
And bettir men be in þare conscience
Na men that fenȝeis all thare defference,
For vnder gold may mekare conscience be

Na vnder the lawest clething of degre—
And richt sua may it of gude mettis be,
And vther letturus thing of nobilete.

“Als, quhan, ȝe speke of ȝoure humilete,
That all ȝoure folk standis in equite,
Ȝe suld witt þat in Hevin ar diuers greis,
As in this warld amange kingis men seis;
For king takis nocht here domynatioun
Na governance, bot fra the hiest croun,
For in-till Hevin is ordouris he and law,
As be the ordouris of angelis here we knaw.
In that ȝe call vertwis chaistete,
It war mare like to bestialetie,
Quhilkis bot anys in the ȝere has appetite—
Quhan that is done, þai haue no more delite:
Thus cummys it nocht of gudlie propir will,
Bot for thare appetite is nocht tharein-till,
Quhilk chaisti[t]e is na thing meritabill.

“Nor ȝitt ȝoure meiknes is nocht vertuabill,
And, als langand ȝoure commynyte,
That is propir kynd of bestialetie,
Quhare dog and man and lad is all elike,
Baith king and knaif—now fy on þat kinrike!
And quhare [ȝe] say ȝe haue na scolis of lare,
That is the werst taknynny[n]g I hard of are,
For thare is na grace þare like till appere,
Quha can na gude, na na gude hes to lere.
And quhare ȝe say ȝow nedis na iustice,
Na na mercy for everie mannys vice,
For ȝe ar all of gude conditioun—
Bot it is clerly agane all ressoun,
For all the signeȝ and planetis of þe hevin,
The quhilkis in novmber ar first [twelve] and [sevin],
And ever-ilkane of sindrie properteis,
And als of diuers naturis, as men seis,
And throw þare diuers constellationis
Makis men of diuers inclinationis:
Thus in na wise be nature neuer may be
That diuers men sould liff in vnyte—

Thus is like ane [secrete wikkettnes]
Oure-[s]ilit with ane [fenzete gudlynes].”

[Q]uhen Dyndymon, of Bragmanare King,
Hard Alexander had made sic ansuering,
Ane vther pistill sone to him gart wrette,
In this maner, as eftir I sall ȝow dyte:
“The King of Bragmanaris, Dyndamon,
Till Alexander, the sone of god Aymon;
He empreoure, tak hede now to my lare:
We ar nocht borne to live here euermare,
Bot richt as pilgrymis, we are bot gistis here,
To wyn the land was he[ich]t oure faderis dere;
Nocht for to walk in riote na in feistis,
With menstrasy, with romanis, na with gestis,
Bot liff in plesance till oure Creature,
And do Him seruice, wourschip, and honoure.
God made here diuers kynd of men,
As ȝe haue sene sen ȝoure conquest begane,
Off sindry natiouns, liffis on sindry lay,
And euerie land is content with thare fay,
And has thare maneris and thare governance
Distinct fra vtheris, and thare ordinance—
Sum ar heremytis, sum ar religious,
And in þis maner best complesis ws:
Kepe wele ȝoure obseruance, we sall kepe ouris,
And we sall pray to God for ȝoure honouris.

“We like this lyffe attoure vther liffing,
And in sic maner to mak oure ending;
We can nocht cleith ws with na pretius clethis,
Na till anorne þat is bot mete for mathis—
To rottin fleche we gif wrechit clething,
And als sic fude as ganys for sic thing [OMITTED]
We bettir nocht for claithis of wrechitnes,
For claithis of gold makis na saluatioun,
Na claithis of poverte puttis na merit doun.
We gane apoun þe gold ever-ilk day,
And stampis on it, and tredis in þe way,
Bot it will nowther stanche hungir na thirst,
Quhill we cum to the rynnand wattir first;

We aete it mare na vther metall by,
For it is caus of averice and invy,
And als it garris the warld be all in were,
For ȝe lufe nane bot him þat has maist gere;
We held it vnder fute as our seruand,
And prayeis it les þan owther erde or sand—
We kepe nocht of ȝoure wardly gouernale,
Bot takis ws till oure liffing naturale.”

University of Virginia Library

Off þe spuleȝe of þe riches of Segor