University of Virginia Library

Þe kyng Boskes lettres a-non to boune mo bernes;
bi þat þe niȝt was a-weye And þe day on þe morwe,
þei hadden of newe folk fourtene þousend.
He seiȝ vnder a wode-egge siker bi hem-seluen
Freschliche I-diht Fyue hondred men of Armes.
On vn-castes his helm and to þe kyng rydes,
And he kneuȝ him wel he was his wyues broþer,
was I-called Seraphe a ȝong Erl forsoþe,
and a douȝti þer-wiþ in alle goode deedes;
He mihte neuer gete loue of þe kyng much ne luyte,
ne good herte of him and he non harm seruede.
He seide, “my ladi þe Qwene me a lettre sende,
ȝif euere I halp hire at neode I scholde hit now cuiþe;
And I am come to þi wille sire, wiþ þis knihtes.”
“Forsoþe,” he seis, “seraphe so þou euele ouȝtest;
Ofte I haue for-set þe þat me sore forþinkes,
For euere þe kuynde wol be frend for ouȝt þat mai bi-falle.”