University of Virginia Library

After Iosian is cristing
Beues dede a gret fiȝting,
Swich bataile dede neuer non
Cristene man of flesch ne bon,
Of a dragoun þer be side,
Þat Beues slouȝ þer in þat tide,
Saue sire Launcelet de Lake,
He fauȝt wiþ a fur drake,
And Wade dede also,
& neuer kniȝtes boute þai to,
& Gij a Warwik, ich vnder-stonde,
Slouȝ a dragoun in Norþ-Homberlonde.
How þat ilche dragoun com þer,
Ich wile ȝow telle, in what maner.

Þar was a king in Poyle londe
And anoþer in Calabre, ich vnderstonde;
Þis twe kinge fouȝte ifere
More þan foure and twenti ȝere,
Þat hii neuer pes nolde,
Naiþer for seluer ne for golde,
And al þe contre, saundoute,
Þai distruede hit al aboute;
Þai hadde mani mannes kours,
Whar þourȝ hii ferden wel þe wors;
Þar fore hii deide in dedli sinne
And helle pine þai gan hem winne.
After in a lite while
Þai be-come dragouns vile,
And so þai fouȝte dragouns ifere
Mor þan foure & þretti ȝere.
An ermite was in þat londe,
Þat was feld of godes sonde;
To Iesu Crist a bed a bone,
Þat he diliure þe dragouns sone
Out of þat ilche stede,
Þat hii namore harm ne dede.
And Iesu Crist, þat sit in heuene,
Wel herde þat ermites steuene
And grauntede him is praiere.
Anon þe dragouns boþe i fere
Toke here fliȝt and flowe awai,
Þar neuer eft man hem ne sai.
Þat on fleȝ anon wiþ þan,
Til a com to Toscan.
Þat oþer dragoun is fliȝt nome
To seinte Peter is brige of Rome;
Þar he schel leggen ay,
Til hit come domes dai.
And eueri seue ȝer ones,
Whan þe dragoun moweþ is bones,
Þan comeþ a roke & a stink
Out of þe water vnder þe brink,
Þat men þer of takeþ þe feuere,
Þat neuer after mai he keuere;
And who þat nel nouȝt leue me,
Wite at pilgrimes, þat þer haþ be,
For þai can telle ȝow, iwis,
Of þat dragoun how it is.
Þat oþer þanne fleȝ an hiȝe
Þourȝ Toskan and Lombardie,
Þourȝ Prouince, wiþ outen ensoine,
Into þe londe of Coloyne;
Þar þe dragoun gan ariue
At Coloyne vnder a cliue.
His eren were rowe & ek long,
His frount be-fore hard & strong;
Eiȝte toskes at is mouþ stod out,
Þe leste was seuentene ench about,
Þe her, þe cholle vnder þe chin,
He was boþe leiþ and grim;
A was i-maned ase a stede;
Þe heued a bar wiþ meche pride,
Be-twene þe scholder & þe taile
Foure and twenti fot, saunfaile.
His taile was of gret stringeþe,
Sextene fot a was a lingþe;
His bodi ase a wintonne.
Whan hit schon þe briȝte sonne,
His wingges schon so þe glas.
His sides wer hard ase eni bras.
His brest was hard ase eni ston;
A foulere þing nas neuer non.
Ȝe, þat wile a stounde dwelle,
Of his stringeþe i mai ȝow telle.

Beues ȝede to bedde a niȝt
Wiþ torges and wiþ candel liȝt.
Whan he was in bedde ibrouȝt,
On Iesu Crist was al is þouȝt.
Him þouȝte, a king, þat was wod,
Hadde wonded him þer a stod;
He hadde wonded him biter & sore,
A wende, a miȝte leue namore,
And ȝet him þouȝte, a virgine
Him brouȝte out of al is pine.
Whan he of is slepe abraid,
Of is sweuene he was afraid.
Þanne a herde a reuli cri,
And be-souȝte Iesu merci:
‘For þe venim is on me þrowe,
Her I legge al to-blowe,
And roteþ me flesch fro þe bon,
Bote ne tit me neuer non!’
And in is cri a seide: ‘Allas,
Þat euer ȝet I maked was!’
Anon whan hit was dai liȝt,
Beues awakede & askede riȝt,
What al þat cri miȝte ben.
His men him answerde aȝen
And seide, þat he was a kniȝt,
In bataile he was holden wiȝt;
Alse a wente him to plaie
Aboute her in þis contrai,
In þis contre aviroun
A mette wiþ a vile dragoun,
And venim he haþ on him þrowe:
Þar a liþ al to-blowe!
‘Lord Crist,’ queþ Beues þo,
‘Mai eni man þe dragoun slo?’
His men answerde, wiþ outen lesing:
‘Þar nis neiþer emperur ne king,
Þat come þar þe dragoun wore,
An hondred þosend men & more,
Þat he nolde slen hem euerichon,
Ne scholde hii neuer þannes gon.’
‘Ascopard,’ a seide, ‘whar ertow?’
‘Icham her; what wilte now?’
‘Wile we to þe dragoun gon?
Þourȝ godes help we scholle him slo!’
‘Ȝa, sire, so mot I þe,
Bleþeliche wile I wende wiþ þe!’
Beues armede him ful wel,
Boþe in yrene and in stel,
And gerte him wiþ a gode bronde
And tok a spere in is honde.
Out ate gate he gan ride,
And Ascopard be his side.
Alse hii wente in here pleȝing,
Hii speke of mani selkouþ þing.
Þat dragoun lai in is den
And seȝ come þe twei men;
A made a cri and a wonder,
Ase hit were a dent of þonder
Ascopard was adrad so sore,
Forþer dorste he go namore;
A seide to Beues, þat was is fere:
‘A wonder-þing ȝe mai here!’
Beues seide: ‘Haue þow no doute,
Þe dragoun liþ her aboute;
Hadde we þe dragoun wonne,
We hadde þe feireste pris vnder sonne!’
Ascopard swor, be sein Ion,
A fot ne dorste he forþer gon.
Beues answerde and seide þo:
‘Ascopard, whi seistow so?
Whi schelt þow afered be
Of þing þat þow miȝt nouȝt sen?’
A swor, alse he moste þen,
He nolde him neiþer hire ne sen:
‘Icham weri, ich mot haue reste;
Go now forþ and do þe beste!’
Þanne seide Beues þis wordes fre:
‘Schame hit is, to terne aȝe!’
A smot his stede be þe side,
Aȝen þe dragoun he gan ride,
Þe dragoun seȝ, þat he cam
Ȝenande aȝenes him anan,
Ȝenande & gapande on him so,
Ase he wolde him swolwe þo.
Whan Beues seȝ þat ilche siȝt,
Þe dragoun of so meche miȝt,
Hadde þerþe opnede anon,
For drede a wolde þer in han gon;
A spere he let to him glide
And smot þe dragoun on þe side;
Þe spere sterte aȝen anon,
So þe hail vpon þe ston,
And to-barst on pices fiue.
His swerd he drouȝ alse bliue;
Þo þai fouȝte, alse i ȝow sai,
Til it was hiȝ noun of þe dai.
Þe dragoun was atened stronge,
Þat o man him scholde stonde so longe;
Þe dragoun harde him gan asaile
And smot his hors wiþ þe taile
Riȝt amideward þe hed,
Þat he fel to grounde ded.
Now is Beues to grounde brouȝt,
Helpe him god, þat alle þing wrouȝt!
Beues was hardi and of gode hert,
Aȝen þe dragoun anon a stert
And harde him a gan asaile,
And he aȝen wiþ strong bataile;
So be-twene hem leste þat fiȝt,
Til it was þe þerke niȝt.
Beues hadde þanne swich þrast,
Him þouȝte, his herte to-brast;
Þanne seȝ he a water him be side,
So hit miȝte wel be-tide,
Fain a wolde þeder flen,
He ne dorste fro þe dragoun ten;
Þe dragoun asailede him fot hot,
Wiþ is taile on his scheld a smot,
Þat hit cleuede heuene ato,
His left scholder dede also.
Beues was hardi & of gode hert,
Into þe welle anon a stert.