 | The Romance of The Cheuelere Assigne |  |
Alle weldynge god whenne it is his wylle,
Wele he wereth his werke with his owne honde:
For ofte harmes were hente þat helpe we ne myȝte;
Nere þe hyȝnes of hym þat lengeth in heuene.
For this I saye by a lorde was lente in an yle,
That was kalled lyor a londe by hym selfe.
The kynge hette oryens as þe book tellethe;
And his qwene bewtrys þat bryȝt was & shene:
Wele he wereth his werke with his owne honde:
For ofte harmes were hente þat helpe we ne myȝte;
Nere þe hyȝnes of hym þat lengeth in heuene.
For this I saye by a lorde was lente in an yle,
That was kalled lyor a londe by hym selfe.
The kynge hette oryens as þe book tellethe;
And his qwene bewtrys þat bryȝt was & shene:
His moder hyȝte Matabryne þat made moche sorwe;
For she sette her affye in Sathanas of helle.
This was chefe of þe kynde of cheualere assygne;
And whenne þey sholde in-to a place it seyth fulle wele where,
Sythen aftur his lykynge dwellede he þere,
Withe his owne qwene þat he loue myȝte:
But alle in langour he laye for lofe of here one,
That he hadde no chylde to cheuenne his londis;
For she sette her affye in Sathanas of helle.
This was chefe of þe kynde of cheualere assygne;
And whenne þey sholde in-to a place it seyth fulle wele where,
Sythen aftur his lykynge dwellede he þere,
Withe his owne qwene þat he loue myȝte:
But alle in langour he laye for lofe of here one,
That he hadde no chylde to cheuenne his londis;
But to be lordeles of his whenne he þe lyf lafte:
And þat honged in his herte I heete þe for sothe.
As þey wente vp-on a walle pleynge hem one,
Bothe þe kynge & þe qwene hem selfen to-gedere:
The kynge loked a-downe & by-helde vnder,
And seyȝ a pore womman at þe ȝate Sytte,
Withe two chylderen her by-fore were borne at a byrthe;
And he turned hym þenne & teres lette he falle.
And þat honged in his herte I heete þe for sothe.
2
Bothe þe kynge & þe qwene hem selfen to-gedere:
The kynge loked a-downe & by-helde vnder,
And seyȝ a pore womman at þe ȝate Sytte,
Withe two chylderen her by-fore were borne at a byrthe;
And he turned hym þenne & teres lette he falle.
Sythen sykede he on-hyȝe & to þe qwene sayde,
‘Se ȝe þe ȝonder pore womman how þat she is pyned
Withe twynlenges two & þat dare I my hedde wedde.’
The qwene nykked hym with nay & seyde ‘it is not to leue:
Oon manne for oon chylde & two wymmen for tweyne;
Or ellis hit were vnsemelye þynge as me wolde þenke,
But eche chylde hadde a fader how manye so þer were.’
The kynge rebukede here for her worþes ryȝte þere;
‘Se ȝe þe ȝonder pore womman how þat she is pyned
Withe twynlenges two & þat dare I my hedde wedde.’
The qwene nykked hym with nay & seyde ‘it is not to leue:
Oon manne for oon chylde & two wymmen for tweyne;
Or ellis hit were vnsemelye þynge as me wolde þenke,
But eche chylde hadde a fader how manye so þer were.’
The kynge rebukede here for her worþes ryȝte þere;
And whenne it drowȝ towarde þe nyȝte þey wenten to bedde;
He gette on here þat same nyȝte resonabullye manye.
The kynge was witty whenne he wysste her with chylde,
And þankede lowely our lorde of his loue & his sonde.
But whenne it drowȝe to þe tyme she shulde be delyuered,
Ther moste no womman come her nere but she þat was cursed,
His moder matabryne þat cawsed moche sorowe;
For she thowȝte to do þat byrthe to a fowle ende.
He gette on here þat same nyȝte resonabullye manye.
The kynge was witty whenne he wysste her with chylde,
And þankede lowely our lorde of his loue & his sonde.
3
Ther moste no womman come her nere but she þat was cursed,
His moder matabryne þat cawsed moche sorowe;
For she thowȝte to do þat byrthe to a fowle ende.
Whenne god wolde þey were borne þenne browȝte she to honde
Sex semelye sonnes & a dowȝter þe seueneth,
Sex semelye sonnes & a dowȝter þe seueneth,
| The Romance of The Cheuelere Assigne | |