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Joseph of Arimathie

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Joseph of Arimathie:

OTHERWISE CALLED The Romance of the Seint Graal, or Holy Grail

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Square brackets indicate text which has been supplied by the editor. The lowest level of subdivision in this poem is marked by paragraph signs in the manuscript, but these signs have not been captured here.

. . . . sire,” he seis “and sonenday is nouwe.”

þenne alle lauhwhen an heiȝ þat herden his wordes,
“Hit is two and fourti winter,” þei seiȝen “trewely forsoþe,
Siþen þou souȝtest þis put and to prison eodest!”

“Now I þonke my lord,” seide Ioseph “þat lente me of his grace;
me þinkeþ but þreo niȝt al þis ilke þrowe.”

þenne Ioseph askes fontston & is I-folwed blyue;
þei folewen him and his wyf & with him ful monye.

Siþen com vaspasians and was furst sped,
In þe nome of þe fader Ioseph him folewede,
And hedde I-turned to þe feyþ fifti with him-seluen.

Siþen he fette his fader with a ferde and a-ȝeyn fondet,
þer þei bosked hem out þat hudden hem in huirenes,
Made hem to huppe half an hundret foote,
forte seche boþem þer þei non seiȝen.

þus þei ladden þe lyf and lengede longe,
þat luyte liked his leyk þer as he lengede.

Feole flowen for fert out of heore cuþþhe
in-to Augrippus lond was heroudes eir,
þere monye lenginde weore for-let of heore oune.

Þen com a vois to Ioseph and seide him þise wordes,
Biddes him and his wyf and his sone eke,
And alle þat þey mouȝten gete and to god tornen,

Gon out of Ierusalem & prechen hise wordes,
And neuer more come a-ȝeyn whon þei weore enes þenne.

In þe morwe he was sone boun don as he biddes;
Ioseph and his cumpanye keueren on swiþe.

Ioseph ferde bi-foren and þe flote folewede;
in-to þe lond of betanye þis buirnes nou wenden.

þei carke for here herbarwe summe be-hynde;
whon Ioseph herde þer-of he bad hem not demayȝen:
“He þat ledes vs þis wei vre herborwe schal wisse.”
þei founden hit newely so wel weore þei neuere.

A-morwe þei weore diȝt and don hem to ȝonge,
And come to a Forest with floures ful feire,
þat was called Argos þat þe kyng ouȝte,
in þe lond of damas þe cuntre was dere.

Þenne spekes a vois to Ioseph was Ihesu crist himselue,
“Iosep[h], marke on þe treo and make a luytel whucche,
Forte do in þat ilke blod þou berest a-boute;

whon þe lust speke with me lift þe lide sone,
þou schalt fynde me redi riȝt bi þi syde,
And, bote þou and þi sone me no mon touche.
And Iosep[h], walk in þe world & preche myne wordes
to þe proudest men A parti schul þei here.

þauȝ þei þe of manas melen, and þe þreten,
beo þou no þing a-dred for non schal þe derue.”

“lord, I was neuer clerk what and I ne cunne?”
“Louse þi lippes a-twynne & let þe gost worche;
Speche, grace, & vois schul springe of þi tonge,
& alle turne to þi mouþ holliche atenes.”

þenne he wawes his fot þe blod he with him fonges,
and in þe nome of þe fader forþward he weendes.

Þei ferden to A Cite faste bi-syde,
þat was called sarras þer sarsyns sprongen,
Erest þorw Abrahames wyf þat wonede þer-inne.
Ioseph teiȝ to non hous bote euene to þe temple:
He seiȝ þe kyng þer he sat and wuste þat he was wraþþed,
& hopede he scholde him touward God turne;
For he and þo of Egipte han werret to-gedere,
And þei discounfitede him han and scaþet ful ofte.

þe kyng and his Baronage a counseil bi-gonnen;
he wolde haue red of his folk and fare to hem ȝitte;
& þei forsaken hit han & he vnsauht sittes.

“Sire,” seis Iosep[h] “or semblaunt is feble,
In gret Anguisse ȝe ben þat nis not God greiþe;
wolde ȝe herkene to me icholde ow bi-heete,
He þat is mi foundeor may hit folfulle,
þat was ded on þe cros & bouȝte us so deore;
I am not worþi to seyn moni of his werkes.”

“þou schewest A symple skil,” quaþ þe kyng “ofscutered þou semest
to speke of A ded mon what may he don þer-ate?”

“I schal sei ou,” quod Ioseph “& ȝe wol vndurstonde.”
“tel on,” seis þe kyng “þi tale wol I here.”

“Þat tyme þat Augustus Cesar was Emperour of Rome,
þis reson bi-gon þat I schal now rikenen,

whon god sende an Angel in-to Galile,
to A Cite, bi nome Nazareth I-called,
to A Maiden ful meke þat Marie was hoten,
And seide, ‘Blessed beo þou flour feirest of alle!
þe holigost with-Inne þe schal lenden and lihte;
þou schalt beren a Child schal Ihesu bi hoten.’

he chaungede cher & seide ‘hou scholde I gon with childe
with-oute felauschupe of mon?’ he bad hire not demayen;

‘þou schalt be mayden for him bi-foren, and after.
Holliche with-outen wem wite þou forsoþe.’
And heo grauntede þenne to ben at his grace;
And sone aftur þat gretnede þat greiþli Mayde.

Whon he wolde ben I-boren at a Blisful tyme,
he dude Miracles feole þat mony men seiȝen;
þre kynges of þe Est þroly þei comen,
And vche put him in hond [a] present ful riche.

Soone Heroudes þe kyng herde of his burþe;
He lette sle for his sake selli mony children;
Foure þousend and seue score was þe summe holden,
þat weore I-slawe for his sake for certeyn hit telles;
Bote þorwȝ þe grace of him-self gete him heo ne miȝt.
His Mooder ay with him fleih forþ in-to Egipte.

Whon he com in-to þe lond leeue þou forsoþe,
feole temples þer-inne tulten to þe eorþe,
for heore false ymages þat þei on leeueden.
Do a-wei þi Maumetes þei han trayed þe ofte;
Let breken hem a-two and bren hem al to pouder,
Schaltou neuer gete grace þorwȝ none suche goddes.”

þenne seis þe kyng “my wit mai not leeue,
þat þou ne melest wonderli & most a-ȝeyn kuynde.
Hou scholde a child come forþ with-oute flescly dedes
Bi-twene wommon and Mon? my wit may not leeue.”

“Sire,” seide Ioseph “þou hiȝtest me to heere,
And I schal preue þe tale þat I fore telle.

whon god sat in his blisse bosked in heuene,
He seiȝ þe peple þorw peine passen in-to helle.
also wel þe holyeste heold þider euene
as þe moste fooles; and þe fader þouȝte

þat hit seemede nouȝt and wolde his sone sende
forte bringe hem out þer-of and þerfore he lihte”—

“What, mon?” quaþ þe kyng “þou castest þiseluen.
Toldest þou not now bi-foren he nedde neuer fader,
but elles, with-oute mon I-bore of a Mayden?
And þou seist now he has on hou may þis sitte same?”

“He was Fader,” quod Ioseph “and for his sake called,
þat was gostliche his halt ar he weore mon formed;
And of two persones sprong out þe þridde;
þat was þe holigost as I be-foren seide.
His godhede lees he nouȝt þeiȝ he come lowe,
þat he nas god ay forþ in his grete strengþe.

I sei þe Fader was God ar out was bi-gonnen,
Made alle þing of nouȝt þorw miht of him one,
Dude þe prophetes to seye þat hem-self nuste,
Bote as hit com heom to mouþ and meleden þe wordes.
þe kuynde of þe Moder þat he on eorþe tok,
þat diȝede a-wei for he hit most dredde.
Bote þe kuynde of his Fader þat was þe furste kuynde,
Holliche euere he heold for þat diȝede neuere.
Bote he was gostliche of Fader and fleschliche of Moder,
So þat he com twies forþ and bi two kuyndes.”

Þenne seis þe kyng “þe lengore I here,
þe lesse reson I seo in þat þat þou rikenest.

þou toldest furst of his Fader and of his furste kuynde,
And þreo persones and alle þei ben goddes.”

“ȝe, sire, bote I pertly vndo þat I haue þe profred,
I am worþi muche blame what mai I seiȝe more?

þe sone, I tolde bi-fore fongede vr kuynde,
tok flesch and blod in a feir mayden;
his Godhede luttulde not þeiȝ he lowe lihte,
þat he nas euere of o miȝt mensked he worþe!”

þe kyng fette forþ feole of his clerkes,
to spute with Ioseph þat spedes hem luite.
Ioseph tok þe holy writ and tei for his teeme,
and destruyede heore tale with-inne þreo wordes.

þe ky[n]g bi-heold on his face and on his limes lowore,
Sayȝ he was barefot and bar him in herte,
He hedde I-ben of heiȝ blod hedde he ben I-bosket,
And a ferli feir mon and witerli him rewes.

“what hettestou,” seis þe kyng to Iosep[h] þenne.
“Ioseph of Aramathie is mi nome called.”
“I schal sei þe, Ioseph as my wit þinkes,
þow semest not ful good clerk to kenne suche wordes;
þe tale is heiȝ in him-self þat þou of tellest,
Hit is ful þester to me & moni a mon eke.

I schal seie þe, Ioseph I haue to done swiþe;
I may not wel lenge now to-morwe meet me heere;
þow schalt haue liueraunce of In and al þat þe neodes;
whon vre leyser is more vre lustnynge is bettre.”

“I haue felauschupe wiþ-outen,” seis Ioseph “wel aboute fifti,
Boþe wymmen and men þat mote wiþ me Inne.”

þe kyng lette fette hem forþ bi-foren him to seo,
what leodes þei beon and where þei weore boren;—
“I trouwe þat beo þi sone” bi Iosaphe he seide.

“ȝe, sire, so he is for soþe as I þe telle.”
“Con he out of clergye?” seis þe kyng þenne.
“leeue me forsoþe, sire þer liues no bettre.”

þe kyng lette lede hem in-to toun lowe,
to a feir old court and Innes hem þere.

Now we leuen Ioseph and of þe kyng carpen;
As he lai at niht keuered in bedde,
In þreo þouȝtes he was and þat weore þis ilke:

On for his grete folk þat him wiþ-saken hedde;

A-noþur for Iosep[h]s tale þat wolde fayn he tornede;

þe þridde, How God scholde wiþ-outen wem wonen in a Mayden.

Þenne he seih in his chaumbre-flor þreo souht vp at enes.
þe braunches on heiȝ weoren alle of o lengþe;
Bote þe bark of þat on semede dimmore
þen ouþer of þe oþer two trouwe þou forsoþe;

þat signede Ihesu crist for sake of vre kuynde,
was nout out-wiþ so cler bote wiþ-inne he was clene.

He calles on his chaumberleyn to kennen vncouþes,
And he rises a-non and for ferd falles.
And he feres him vp and bad him not ben ferd;
“þer schal falle non euel of þat is here formed.”

þei lihten two torches and to þis treos wenten;
þei weore semeli bi-neoþe þei mihte not seo þe heiȝþe,
sprongen wiþ gret sped of a good spice.
On vche braunche was a word of þreo maner enkes;
Gold and Seluer he seis and Asur forsoþe.

“‘þis makeþ,’” quod þe wiht “þe marke of gold;”

“And ‘þis saues,’” quaþ þat wiht “þe seyne of seluer;
And ‘þis clanses’ as þe Asur kennes.”

þe kyng nuste wel forte seye bi wit þat he hedde,
wheþer þat he seȝe was on forte sigge,
oþer two, or þreo or what he miȝte telle.

þe kyng was a-bascht and to his bed buskes;
and his Chaumberleyn so a-ferd þat neih he felde Iswowen.

þenne he seiȝ a newe chaumbre-wouh wrouȝt al of bordes,
a dore honginge þer-on haspet ful faste,

A child cominge þorw his come was nout seene,
Siþen lenges a while and a-ȝein lendes,
wiþ-outen faute oþer faus as þei fore seiden.

þenne spekes a vois and on heiȝ sigges,
“king, haue þou no ferli of þat is heere formed,
for so god with-outen wem wende in a Mayden.”

Now we leuen þe kyng and of Ioseph carpen;
“A! lord!” quaþ Ioseph “how may þis limpe
Of þis king Eualak þat con not vnderstonde?
Bote ȝif I turne him bi þis poynt ar he henne passe,
beos he neuermore I-tornd treweli I trouwe.
Nou I be-seche þe, Ihesu as þou art ful of Ioye,
þat speke to hem of Israel þorw Moyses speche,
And bad þei schulde leeuen for no-skunus þinge,
In non oþur straunge god bote studefast þe holde:
And wustest daniel in þe put þat he was inne I-worpe
Among þe leones feole þat he no scaþe lauȝte:
And for-ȝaf þe Maudeleyn mekelyche hire sunnes:
And siþen seidest to me mi preyere scholde sitte;
þou heiȝtest holichurche to haunsen hire strengþe,
to hiȝen þi godhed hit helpes nout elles;
Nou, gloriouse kyng graunte me mi boone.”

Þenne spekes a vois and on heiȝ sigges,
“Ioseph, haue þou no care þe kyng schal sone torne:
Go þou most to þi wyf gete þou most nede
A child, Galaad schal be hoten þat goodnesse schal reise
þe Auenturus of Brutayne to haunsen and to holden.”
And he dos as he bad and to his bed buskes.

In þe morwe he was vppe and roises þis oþure.
þenne hit þester bi-gon and þonderde swiþe,
þat þe graue quakede and þei a-grisen alle.

He bi-þenkes him þo and to his whucche weendes,

And feole preiers he made þat Ihesu crist herde,
And spekes to hem wiþ loueliche wordes.

“I-blesset be ȝe to day alle myne leoue children”—
And he tolde hem of his crucifiing hou he [þe] cros souȝte,
And of heore fadres bi-fore þat he fond vn-kuynde—
“Er þei speeken to me feire and faynede me wiþ wordes,
Bote þei hateden me and hedden de-deyn.
Bote beo ȝe stable in oure fei and foleweþ vre werkes,
for ȝe han more of þe lawe þen prophetes hedden.

Þei nedden bote þe holygost and so ȝe han eke,
and siþen bodiliche me to ben at or wille.

I nul not fastenen on þe sone þe Fadres gultus,
I for-ȝiue ow clene þe harm þat I hedde.
And cum þou hider, Iosaphe for þou art Iugget clene,
And art digne þer-to þat dos me to lyke;
Ichul bi-take þe to-day in a good tyme
on þe hiȝeste þing holden on eorþe,
non oþer of me hit murili to habben,
but elles vche mon of þe þat takes hit aftur.”
He bad him lifte vp and þe lide warpes:—

Þenne he seos Ihesu crist in a sad Roode,
and his fyue Angeles þat forþ wiþ him stoden,
As red as þe fuir and he hem bi-holdes.

þat on beres in his hond a cros of queynte hewe;

þat oþer beres in his hond þreo blodi nayles;

þe þridde þe Coroune þat his hed keuerde;

þe Feorþe, þe launce þat lemede him wiþ-Inne;

And þe Fyfþe a blodi cloþ þat he was inne i-braced,
whon he lay after slauht in þe sepulere.

þenne he falles for fere forþ wiþ þe wȝucche;
Eft he bad him rise vp he ros wiþ þe bone.

þenne he sauh Ihesu crist I-strauȝt vppon þe Roode,
whuche þe Angel by-fore hedde in his hond;

And þe þreo nayles þat þe oþur bi-foren hedde,
In his honden and his feet alle þei weore faste;

Siþen stiken wiþ þe spere blod and watur louses;
Bi-holdes touward hise feet say fro hem renne;
eornen al of red blod romynge a-boute;
Al priueliche his peyne a-pertliche he sauh.

“Whi lengest þou,” quod Iosep[h] to his sone, “so longe?
And so stille liggest lokynde in þe whucche?”
“A! Fader, touche me not in þis ilke tyme,
For muche gostliche grace me is here I-graunted.”

þenne þei loken in atte wȝucche loueliche boþe,

þenne þei seȝen Ihesu crist in þat ilke foorme,
þat heo seȝen him sodeynliche whon heo furst comen
aftur þe slauȝt to him to þe sepulcre.

þenne comen two Angeles wiþ twayles white,
And eiþer bar in his hond a basyn of seluer;
Oþur Tweyne aftur hem with cruetes sone,
and wasscheles wiþ haly water with hem þei brouȝten;
And oþer two after hem with sencers soone,
set wiþ riche stones and a viole of sence.

þen com on, ‘þe strengþe of god’ gabriel I-hoten,
wiþ þe riccheste sege þat euer for seete seemes;
And oþer two after him wiþ crois and wiþ Mitre,
And oþure bouwynde after wiþ vestimens sone.

He seiȝ an Auter I-cloþed wiþ cloþes ful riche;
Vppon þat on ende lay þelaunce and þe nayles,
And vppon þat oþer ende þe disch wiþ þe blode,
and a vessel of gold geynliche bi-twene.

Ihesu made for to greiþe Iosaphe in þat geyn weede,
And sacrede him to Bisschop wiþ boto his hondes,
And tolde him of his vestimens what þei signefyen;
In vche Cite þere he come sacren on he scholde
wiþ þe selue oygnemens þat he to him wrouȝte,

And an-oyg[n]ten oþer kynges þat to crist torneden.

ȝit he leres him more loueliche him-seluen—
“I beo-take þe her, Iosaphe soules to kepe;
ȝif eni þorw þi defaute falle fro my riche,
At þe day of Iuggement þou beost ioyned harde;

I seiȝe, Ioseph þi fader schal bodiliche hem ȝeme,
And þou gostliche nou ȝemes hem boþe.
wiþ-drawe þe of þi vestimens and do hem vp to holde;
Go now to-ward þe court þe kyng for to turne.”

Penne þei wenden heore wei and to þe court ȝongen,
And al a-boute þe paleys haly water þei spreynden,
for mony a wikkede gost woned hedde þere.

wiþ-outen, on þe paleys as þei bi passeden,
werdes of Ebreu weren I-writen of ȝore,
And sein, ‘daniel of Babiloyne whon he fro Batayle wente
Fro nabugodonosor þe kyng þat him hade,
called þis paleis “Auntres” and forsoþe seide,
þat hit scholde trewely in sum tyme aftur,
called beo þe paleis merueilouse for werkes,
þat þer scholde beo seyȝen þorw sonde of vr lord.’

Bi þat was A Messager come after þis men sone;
whon þei comen to þe halle þei maden þe signe
on hem of þe verrey cros and toward þe kyng eoden.

þe kyng hedde geten him a clerk on of þe beste,
nouȝwhere in heore lawe was such a-nother holden,
to take Ioseph in his tale ȝif he wrong seide.

“þou toldest me ȝusterday,” quod þe kyng “þou wost wel þi-seluen,
Of þise þreo persones and alle þei beoþ goddes;
And siþen of a-noþer wonder forsoþe,
þat Ihesu with-outen wem won in a Mayden.”

“Þat I tolde þe þo I telle þe ȝitte;
I nul forsake my word for no maner þinge.”

Op stondes þis clerk and seis him þise wordes,
“ȝif þise þreo persones þat þou þe fore puttest
han bote on godhede þei nare not goddes alle;
ȝif vchon haue a godhede I graunte, bi him-selue,
I seie þat on is also good as þe þreo hole.

þat on is a verrei god I sei bi god greyþe;
þis oþer two nare none in no maner þinge.”
He sprong in his sputison and speek harde wordes,
þat Ioseph hedde no space while his speche laste.

Op stondes Iosaphe and þe fader sittes,
Speek wiþ an heiȝ vois þat al þe folk herde,
“Nou þe greteþ, sir Euelak God of israel
þorw his seruauntes mouþ and seye þe I wile.

þou hast I-seȝe to-niht signefies summe,
þow hast diskeueret hem þer he nis not payet,
Heere þou schalt ha vengaunce verreyliche and sone,
þat al þi reume schal seo þat þou wrong siggest;

For he, þis ilke Tholomer þat þou weore wont to hunte,
þat is kyng of Babiloyne hiderward he buskes;
þreo dayes with þe niht nou he þe schal driue,
Siþen lacche þe atte laste and þe þi lyf bi-reuen;
He þat dorste nere ȝut þe nouȝwhere a-byde,
nou schal winne his wille of þe for þi wrong bi-leeue.”

þenne stod vp þis clerk and wolde est dispuite;
þenne him þouȝte þat on heold him bi þe tonge,
And he roungede an heiȝ and rorede so harde,
his eiȝen flowen out of his hed and biforen him fallen.

Þenne vp sturten þe folk and wolden wiþ wepene
sle Iosep[h] and his sone for sake of þis oþer;
And þe kyng Eualac cauȝte his swerd sone,
And beo þe miht of Iubiter he swor to hem alle,

weore eny of heom so wood heom forte founde,
he wolde felle hem feye ar þei þenne ferden.

þenne seis þe kyng “mai þer out me helpe
forto saue me out ȝif þat hit so lym[p]e?”

“ȝe, sire,” seis Iosaphe “to fonge þe trouþe.”
“And what trouwest þou of þis mon tides him hele?”
“Gos to oure Maumetes and proues heore mihtes.”

þenne þei taken þis mon and towen him to þe temple,
A-non þei brouȝten him forþ bi-foren þe moste mayster,
Calleþ vppon an ymage þat Appollin hette,
and wol not onswere a word þauh þei scholde swelten.

þenne spekes an ymage in a-noþer huirne,
þat ȝe clepeþ Martis “nouȝt is þat ȝe mene;
Appolin is bounden and braset so faste,
he may not speke a word for no þing alyue.”

Þenne Ioseph hente a staf þat stod him bi-syde,
strikes to þis Appolin with a strong wille,
þat his nekke to-barst and brak al to pouder,
and þe fend of his bodj fleyȝ to þe lufte.

þenne þei leuen him þer and goþ touward oþure;

þe kyng bowes to his pors him offring to beode.
“Let beo,” seis Iosaphe “I leeue þe beo bettre;
For and þou profre him eny I schal do [þe] to preue,
vppon sodeyne deþ þou schalt sone dye.”

“Do tel me,” seis þe kyng “I haue þe muche truste,
Of þis tholomer and me hou schal hit tyden?”
And he onsweres aȝeyn “I dar not wel sigge,
for þis cristene men þat vmbe mong ȝongen.

Se ȝe not þe tweyne Angeles leden hem a-boute?

þat on bereþ a cros þat oþer a swerd kene;

wher-so-euere þei ben stad such is heore strengþe,
Vre maystrie is nouȝt in no maner þinge.”

þenne seis Iosaphe “for us ne schalt þou wonde;
Vppon þe heiȝe trinite I halse þe to telle,

Spek al þat þou const & let þe kyng here.”
“Of newe þing þat is to come,” he seis “con I not telle.”
Bi þat was a Messager i-come and to þe kyng menes,
And seis him þat tholomer has taken of his londes.

“þe riche Cite of Nagister nomen he has forsoþe;
Siþen he keueres vppon and takes bi-fore clene
þe Castel of a-longines and hiderward he ioynes,
with sixti þousent,” he seide “of clene men of Armes,
And Fifti þousend fot-men þat redi beþ to fihte,
þei han geten þat holt for certeyn soþe;
þer is non in þat lond þat schal hem wiþstonden.”

þenne þe kyng was a-ferd I hete þe forsoþe,
leste þe tale of Iosaphe ferede trewe.

Þe kyng boskes lettres a-non to bounen his bernes,
Comaundes hem to meeten him tymely on þe morwen,
At þe Castel of Carboye þer he beden hade,
was fiftene myle fro sarras I-holden,
And oþer fiftene myle fro þenne as þei leiȝen.

þenne Ioseph takes him forþ and seiþ him þis wordes,
“wostou what þou do, kyng nou þat þou wendes?
Of þi comynge a-ȝein const þou not telle.

Such signe me is tauȝt þou art of cun symple;
forsoþe A mon was þi fader þat couþe schon a-mende!

þat tyme þat Augustes cesar was Emperour of Rome,
þou wast lenged in þe lond þat þat lord ouȝte.
Fourti knihtes douȝtres he wolde haue of fraunce,
forte souwe selk-werk and sitten in his chaumbre.

For þou were a feir child þou weore I-fet to serue
twei feire maydenes and wiþ þis mon lengedest.

þei heolden þe of herre blod þen þou boren weore;
So þou souȝtes fro him to þe erl of Surye.
So þou and his sone vppon a day seten,

And ȝe woxen vn-sauȝt and þou slouȝ him þere.
So þou come to þe kyng þat þis kuþþe auȝte;
Seidest þou were a kniht and in his court laftest.

He was an old mon weried of werre,
And þou weore a ȝong mon in þi grete strengþe.
For þou toke his enemy and brouȝtest him to honde,
forþi he ȝaf þe þis lond after his lyue.
Hit is not allynge to carpe, sire kyng wher-of we comen.”
He takes non [hede] heere-to bote askes him of þe sweuene
þat he mette on þe niht and bad he scholde him telle.

“whon þat þou comest aȝeyn wite þou schalt forsoþe,
þou miht haue more redi roume my rikenyng to here!”

Ioseph[e] takes his scheld and schapes a-middes
A crois of red cloþ and kennes him aftur,
whon his peril weore most to crist he scholde preyen,
for þer scholde no mon verreili þat vigore bi-holden,
þat he nis saaf þat dai and his sore passed.

Þenne he buskes touward þe bente þer þis oþer byden,
He arayes his riche men and rihtes hem swiþe.
A-non tholomers men woxen þe biggore;
sone beeren hem a-bac and brouhten hem to grounde;
And þei tornede a-ȝein þat tyme hit was non oþer.

þei come bi tholomers tentes vn-housed hem sone,
Token holliche his stor and a-wei streiȝten,
þat þei come to a Castel faste be-syde.

þe kyng was gon to pleye him bi a water brimme,
þen com on prikynge prest him a-ȝeynes.
He seide, “my ladi þe queene ou a lettre sende,
Biddes ou wihtly be boun to don as heo biddes.”
And he redes hit forþ and fond þer-on sone,
þat he scholde wiþ-drawe him al a-wei þenne,

Or elles tholomers folk wol taken him þere;

Forþi heo wole þat he wite and warnes him beotime.

“Ho has witered hire of þis and ho has hire kenned?”
He onsweres a-non “sire, I not forsoþe.
Bote þe two cristene men þat bydes ow at court,
in gret counseil han I-beo I trouwe hit be þer aboute;”—
And he telles hem þenne of þe qwene sonde
þorw counseil of Iosaphe and Ihesu þei þonken.

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.”

Now þei bouwe touward þe bente þer þis oþere houen;
He arayes his riche men and rihtes hem bettre,
þat þorw him reowen no res þat his red wrouȝten.

þenne seis Seraphe “holdes ou stille,
And þenkes on, goode men þe gref is oure childre;
what wol bi-falle þer-of and we ben confoundet.
Betere hit were douhtilyche to diȝen on or oune,
þen wiþ schendschupe to schone and vs a-bak drawe.”
þei han geten on hem þe lengþe of a gleyue:

whon Seraphe seiȝ þat men þei miȝte I-seo sone
his polhache go and proude doun pallede.
In þe þikkeste pres he preuede his wepne,
Breek braynes a-brod brusede burnes,
Beer bale in his hond bed hit a-boute.
He hedde an hache vppon heiȝ wiþ a gret halue,
Huld hit harde wiþ teis in his two hondes;
So he frusschede hem with and fondede his strengþe,
þat luyte miȝte faren him fro and to fluiȝt founden.

þere weore stedes to struien stoures to medlen,
Meeten miȝtful men mallen þorw scheldes,

Harde hauberkes to-borsten and þe brest þurleden.
Schon schene vppon schaft schalkene blode.

þo þat houen vppon hors heowen on helmes.

þo þat hulden hem on fote hakken þorw scholdres.
mony swouȝninge lay þorw schindringe of scharpe,
And starf aftur þe deþ in a schort while.

þer weoren hedes vn-huled helmes vphaunset;
harde scheldes to-clouen on quarters fellen,
slen hors and mon holliche at enes.

Þe stiward of Eualak in þe stour lafte,
lai streiht on þe feld striken to þe eorþe.

Now Eualac and tholomer twies han a-semblet;
Seraphe takes of heore men wel a two hundred,
to wende to a Roche was faste bi-syde.
Hedde þei geten þat holt for certeyne soþe,
þei mihten haue do muche harm er þei han hem mihte.

þenne com on wiþ a tale and Tholomer he telles,
And seis him hou Seraphe has his men serued;

His broþer and a batayle weore bosket bi-sydes,
And he sende him word he scholde þider seche,
And þei come swiftly vppon and swengeden to-gedere.

Seraphe was of hem wel war and faste hem a-scries;
He mette a gome on an hors with a gret route,
He hente vp his hachet and huttes him euene,
Al to-hurles þe helm and þe hed vnder.
wiþ þe deþ in his hals dounward he duppes,
and þat deruede hem muche on þat oþer syde,
for þe kyng Tholomer was treweli his broþer.

þen Seraphe fondes in he and fourti knihtes,

þer þe batayle was stiffest and of more strengþe.

þenne þei fullen for grame to Seraphe knihtes;
þei han laft him a-lyue but vnneþe seuene.
Sikerli þe seuene weore slayen at þe laste,
Him wondet þer-wiþ and wemmet so sore,
þat he was in swounynge and fel to þe grounde.

Sone þenne he starte vp and streiȝte to his hache,
culles on mennes hedes þat þei doun lyen,
Siþen cacches his hors and a-wei wendes.
Bote euer-more Seraphe askes and cries,
“where was Eualac?” þe stour was so þikke.

wel a fyue þousend men of tholomeres halue
weore bytwene hem two þat to him he ne mihte,
And he nedde bote fourti men folewynde his brydel.
And þei were weri of-fouȝten and feor ouer-charged,
Of þe peple afurst and þe pres after;
luyte wonder hit was so þey wrouȝt haden.

Þenne was Eualac taken and woundet ful sore;
And þe kyng tholomer takes him to kepe,
Ferde in-to a forest faste bi-syde,
forte fallen him feye er þei a-ȝeyn ferden.

þenne he vn-keuered his scheld & on þe cros biholdes;
He seiȝ a child strauȝt þer-on stremynge on blode,

And he bi-souȝte him of grace as he was godes foorme.

þenne he seiȝ a whit kniht comynge him a-ȝeines,
boþe Armure and hors al as þe lilye,
A red cros on his scheld seemed him feire;
Rydes to tholomer rad wiþ þat ilke,
Baar him doun of his hors and harmed him more,
strok him stark ded þat he sturede neuere.

Siþen he fonges forþ a ferly wepne,
fel hem feiȝe to his feet þat him hedde folewed.

þenne he horses Eualac on tholomeres steede,
bouwes touward þe batayle bigly and swiþe.

Euer-more Eualac askes and cries,
“where was Seraphe?” and seiȝ him wiþ þat ilke,
wher seue knihtes him han sikerliche a-sayled,
and titli bi-gonnen to take him bi þe bridel.

þe white kniht wiþ his swerd swyngede to hem sone;
whon þe sixe weoren dede þe seueþe a knyf cauhte,
And wolde ha striken Seraphe at a stude derne,
vppon an hole of his helm and he was so for-fouȝten
þat he hedde no space spedly him-seluen
forto do him no dispit þe sporn was his owne.

whon Eualac þat sauȝ he fel to þe grounde,
And Seraphe also and boþe lye [a] swoune.

þe white kniht lihtes doun and boþe hem vp-liftes;
þer nas no lynde so liht as þise two leodes,
whon þei blencheden a-boue and eiþer seiȝ oþer.

þenne seis Seraphe “scheuȝ me myn hache,
and I schal note hit to-day my strengþe is so newed.”

“Haue her-on,” seis þe white kniht “vppon my bihalue;
God sende þe þis þat al þe grace lenes.”
whon he hedde hit in honde he heold hit þe betere,
And þe heuior bi fer þen he bi-foren hedde;
Nas þer ȝong mon ne old þat ȝernloker wrouȝte
þen Eualac and Seraphe wher-so-euer þei souȝten,
Also fresch as þe hauk freschore þat tyme,

þen þei foundeden þidere in heore furste come.
But euer-more þe white kniht hem þe place roumede,
Hit falles not for to seiȝe þe fere of his duntes.
þer he lousede his hond he leyde hem on Ronkes,
and welde hem bi-foren at his oune wille.

þe stiward of Tholomer stoffes hem to-gedere,
and seis, “þei ben a-middes þe Reume and mowe not hom reche,
ne heo knowe not in the lond forþi þei moten lenge.”

þenne þe folk of þe Roche hem in face kepten,
maden þer a siker werk and slowen hem vp clene.

Eualac and Seraphe wonder hem þhouȝte
wher þe white kniht bi-com þat won hem þe prys;
þei nuste where he was ne on whuche syde.

þenne seis Seraphe þat hom he wolde wende,
He is woundet ful sore to winnen his ese.

“Trewely,” seis Eualac “þow schalt wiþ me to court,
And two wonderful men þou schalt seo þere;
þei tolde me of vche a poynt ar I fro home wente,
al-to-gedere of þis werk hou hit is wonne.”

Nou we leuen þe kyng and of Ioseph carpen,
þat restes him in Sarras bi-leued wiþ þe qweene.
“Hou trouwestou of my lord?” heo seis “tydes him hele,
Has he folfulsened þe sawes þat þou bi-fore seidest?”
“ȝe, þorw þe miht of god þe maystrie is wonnen,
And þorw his swete grace þe sarrest is passed.”

“ȝe, I wol bi-hote þe heer þi lawe for to holden,
whon þat my lord is comen þat schal I furst fongen.”
“Do me sikernesse þer-to” seis Ioseph þenne.

“I wole my trouþe þe bi-take I wol þe nout trayse.”
“Nay, þou hast non,” seis he “for certeyn soþe,

ȝe han be fastned wiþ hem þat ferden wiþ luitel.”
“Tel me what is þin and what hit signefyes?”
And he tolde hire a-non trewely him-seluen,
And heo rikenede a-ȝeyn radly and sone,
Also redili as he and wonder he hedde.

“I schal seiȝe þe, Ioseph for certeyn soþe,
hou I tok crstendom and in what tyme.
while my moder lyuede heo hedde an vuel longe,
And souȝte in-to diuerse studes and mihte haue non hele.

þenne wonede an hermite faste bi-syde;
Semely vppon a day þidere we souhten;
Heo bad þis hermyte he scholde hire hele sende.

‘I am sinful as þou,’ he seis ‘I mai þe non graunte.’

‘No mak þi preyere to him,’ heo seis ‘þat þin hope is inne?’

‘woldestou leeue vppon him,’ he seis ‘I wolde þe bi-hote,
þat þou scholdest ben hol ar þou henne eodest.’

He made hire to knele a-doun and a bok bradde,
Radde a gospel þer-on and bad hire vp rise,
And heo was lihtned of hire euel in a luytel stounde.

þenne heo seide to me ‘douȝter ful deore,
woltou beo as I am and on þis mon leue?’
And I wepte water warm and wette my wonges,
And seide his bert was so hor I bad not on him leeue.
And he seide to me ‘douȝter, he is feirore,
þat þi moder has I-helet nou in þis tyme,
þen I or þou or out þat is formed.’

And I tolde him a-ȝeyn ‘and he so feir weore
as my broþer is at home I wolde on him leeue.’

‘Sikerly, douȝter,’ he seis ‘so may grace sende
þat þou miȝt seo him þi-self ar þow henne seche.’

Þenne com Ihesu crist so cler in him-seluen,
aftur þe furste blusch we ne miȝte him bi-holden,

And a wynt and a sauor whappede us vmbe,
we weore so wel of vr-self we nuste what we duden.
He vsede of Goddes bord & a writ brouhte,
bi-tauȝte me and my moder murily to holden;
þus cristendom I tok in þat ilke tyme.”

“whi hastou let so longe þi lord þis lyf leden?”
“Sire, forsoþe,” heo seis “syker I ne dorste,
He is so feol in him-self for no þing be-knowen,
Bote herkene of god whon he his grace sende.

Hastou not herd þi-self hou euel he was to torne?”

Now þe kyng comes to sarras and mony on him suwen;
As sone as he com hom I hete þe forsoþe,
He askede after a-non nomeliche þeose tweyne,
Sette him on his bed and hem on ciþer syde.
“A! Ioseph,” seiþ þe kyng “soþe aren þi wordes,
þat þou toldest me furst ȝor foundeour be blesset!”

“Ho is þat?” seis Seraphe and [he] onswerde sone,
“he þat halp þe wiþ sound fro þe seue knihtes”—
Tolde hem vche a poynt þat þei wrouȝt haden;
Hou he wuste þerof wonder hem þouȝte.

Þenne com on fro þe fiht þat foule was wemmed,
was striken of þat on Arm and bar hit in þat oþer.

þen Ioseph asked þe kynges scheld And bad þat mon knele,
þe arm helede a-ȝeyn hol to þe stompe.

þenne com Seraphe and fullouȝt furst askes.
In þe nome of þe fader Ioseph him fulwede,
And calles him Naciens and his nome tornde:
he was þe forme þat day þat fongede trouþe.

whon he Baptised was þis oþere bi-heolden,
Heom þouȝte he leomede as liht al on a lowe;

þei seȝen þe holy-gost at his mouþ descenden,
And he speek þenne þat bi-foren ne kneuȝ.

Þenne com he wiþ þe sore Arm þat þorw þe grace was holpen;
In þe nome of þe fader Ioseph him folwed,
clepen him Cleomadas and callen him after.

þenne com þe kyng Eualac and fullouht askes;
In þe nome of þe fader Ioseph him folwede,
Called him Mordreyns ‘a lat mon’ in trouþe.

þen com þe folk to Iosaphe so þikke,
He tok a basin of gold in boþe two his hondes,
Vppon þe heiȝe trinite he let water hiȝe,
And hedde fulwed bi non mo þen fyue þousend.

þenn seis Iosaphe þat Ioseph his fader
mot a-byden him and dwelle þer stille,

while þat he and Naciens gon nouþer þei nusten,
forte cristene þe folk and casten þe false.

But þere an vnsely kyng in prison hem caste,
wiþ muche serwe to him-self siker atte laste;

For þe kyng Mordreyns com with such strengþe,
forte liuere hem out on lyue he lafte none.

Siþen þei bi-tauȝten þe blod twei burnes to holden,
And þei lenden of þe toun and leuen hit þere.