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“I haue all sene be nycht in my avisioun
Alhaill þe gouernance of god Amon,
For as he comperit in þe nycht to þe,
Into þe samyne figure he come to me:
I saw all haill his conuersatioun,
Quhow he apperit in form of ane dragoun,
And of þi birth, it þat he to me said,
I am content, and haldis me weill appayd.”
The quene is blyth, and till hir chalmer went;
The king gart cry ane semble or he stent,
To feist his lordis and mak ane mangerie,
The worthiest of his realm and maist mychttie.
As þai war sett in middis of þe feist,
Sa com þe dragoun, þat meruelus beist,
Fleand and hoverand vp and doun þe hall,
Of quhilk sic mervell haid þe lordis all,
Thay war sa dred þai weynd all haid bene lorn,
For sic thing haid þai neuir sene beforn.
Than said þe king, “Lordingis, be nocht agast—
This is þe dragoun þat befoir ws past,
Intill oure battell in þe land of Armene,
Quhilk was þe maist caus of our victorie.
This is ane angell of þe god Amon,
Quhilk ledis ws till all our gude fortune.”
With þat he schuke his fethram and he blew,
And neir þe Quene Olimpeas he drew,
And with ane sibbling and ane quhispering
He kissit þe quene, sittand besyde þe king.
The king of þis nothing affrayit was,
Nor ȝit þe quene, for þai knew weill þe case.

So fell percase þat efter on ane nycht,
Betuix þe dawing and þe dayis lycht,
Ane visioun com to King Philip lyand,
As him thocht, nother sleipand nor walkand,
And till him semit as be his avisioun
That from þe hevin com fleand till him doun
Ane littill bird, nane fairar nature wrocht,
And in his bosum crap in, as him thocht,
And þair ane quhill restit and reposit,
And þair ane eg sche left him and deposit;
And quhan he opnit to se within his goun,
The bird flaw out, and þair þe eg fell doun,
And in þe falling crakit on þe flure;
Out of him com ane serpent stark and sture,
With mony feit, and wingis forto flee,
Of diuers collouris, rycht [fairlifull] to se,
Quhilk all þe flure sche crepit to and fra,
And oureȝeid all, baith hirn, nuke, and wra;
Quhan sche haid done, com to þe eg agane,
And for to entir in it sche did hir pane,
Bot scho was growin sa gret þan, as him thocht,
Tha[t] on na wyse entir agane scho mocht;
And for to entir as sche hir paynand was,
Sche fell doun ded into þe samyne place.
The king walknit, with þat rycht ill apayd,
And till his chalmerlanis furth-with he sayd
That but delay þai semblit his counsalle,
And all þe wysest clerkis and þe wale
Off Macedone, of Grece, and of Sclauone,
Aprochit to his presence suddantlie.
And quhan þai war all semblit him beforn,
He said, “Lordingis, ȝe ar all to me sworn;
To haue ȝour consellis all it is my will,
For sic ane visioun as apeirit me till,
The quhilk standis on all my fortune hale,
Othir evill or gud, winning or tinsale.”
Thair callit þai þe flour of þair clergie,
Gart ilk man about say his vot aperandlie.
Sa was þair ane þat spak last of all,
Quhilk till his name Aristotill þai call,
Said, “Lord, traist weill þat þow sall haue ane air,
That efter þe sall regn heir and repair;
This warld he sall all conques and ourepas,
And quhan he sua þe warld ourconquest hes,
And wald agane cum in his cuntre,
In his maist welth and gloir þan sall he de.”
Thus is þe king vnto his chalmer went,
Bot in his hart he was nocht all content;
Off þair answeir nocht þan ȝit blyth was he,
For he wist weill, as God will, all mon be.

Now mon we speik of Quene Olimpeas,
Quhilk till hir tyme rycht neir aprocheand was:
So fell ane day, as wemen hapnis oft,
The quene was chawmerit hie vp in ane loft;
Sche tuke ane thracht, þe childe began to steir,
He vext hir sua, and mad hir sic ane beir,
That vneth mycht sche sit, stand, or ly,
Sche was within sa trublit grevously;
And furth-with send efter Nectanabus,
And tauld him quhow scho was distrublit þus,
Quhilk said to hir, “Ȝe ar harbreit oure hie,
The elementis are trublit, as ȝe may se;
The coniunctioun salbe þis day als sone,
And meit sall in ane sign baith sonn and mone,
And fra þe change be past a litill tyme
Ȝe sall relesit be of all ȝour pyne;
Quhair[fore] descend, and lawar mak ȝour laire—
The hear place, þe mair trublit þe air.”
Than com sche doun and did as he hir bad,
And in ane lawer chalmer made hir bed.
The tyme drew neir of hir deliuerance:
Thay gart provide and mak hir ordinance.
Nectanabus haid tald hir day and hour
Sche suld haue chyld withoutin gret dolour,
And alsa fast as euir þe bairn was born,
And on þe erd his mother laid beforn,
Than rais sic thounder, fyrflaucht, and tempest,
That all þe firmament fra est to west
Distrublit was, baith erd, sey, and air,
That þair was nane þairout durst repare,
For affrayitnes of erding and of dreid,
That all þe folk in voltis and cavernis ȝeid,
And hyd þame quhill þe tempest was ourgane;
The beistis on þe feildis þame allane
Rumist and routit, þat hidduis was till heir;
The sey wox red, þat birnand was on steir;
The erd trimblit, and all þe housis schoke;
The hartis of men growit, þair membaris quuke:
Thair was na erdlie thing into þe stour
Bot it was changit, na flesche but dreddour
For all þe goddis, for saik of god Amon;
According to his generatioun,
Als mony ane takin and signe þat day was sene,
That neuir in manis lyf befoir haid bene,
Oure all þe warld als weill as in þat cuntre.
And be þis caus men mych[t] persaue and se,
Suppois it war nocht Godis prouisioun,
It was neuir done but His permissioun,
For als sa far as son schynis on erd,
Sa spred his name, his fortune, and his werde.
The King Philip, þat saw þis meruell fall,
That hale was trublit hevin, erd, and all
Into þe tyme of his natiuitiee,
And meruelit gretlie quhat thing þis mycht be,
He wes dred, and halflingis he was tene,
And furth-with passit in chalmer to þe quene,
And said, “Fair dame, now rycht weill I se
That þis þi birth hes nocht ado with me;
Gif I him put to foster and to nurice,
All men will say that I am nothing wise,
That of þis thing hes witting and knawleg;
And also quhan he cummis to perfyte age
I wald haue dred to mak ane wrangus are,
To put my realm and peopill in dispair,
And all my freindis þat suld succeid me to
Wald say þat þai with him haid nocht ado.
Noch[t] þan þe thing þat I haue hard [and] saw
Garris me be dred, and als I stand gret aw
For to vndo þis bairn or him to spill,
For þe goddis may mak airis at þair will.
Thairfore me think it best, I say for me,
That as my sone and air he fosterit be,
In sted of ane I haid of my first wyf,
The quhilk befoir tyme p[a]ssit of þis lyf.
Thus may we gar men trow þat þis is he,
Sen nane wat of his ded bot I and ȝe;
And till his name ȝoung Alexander ȝe say,
As rychtteous are of Armenie alway;
And heir also I mak him are anone
Off Sclauonie, of Grece, and Macedone;
Sen all þe goddis þairof ar content,
Me think resoun þat I gif him consent.”

Quha was blythar than þe nobill quene,
Quhilk þus desauit wickidlie hes bene.
Nocht þan for-thy sic thing behufit to be
Permisit of God and His authoritie;
Thair may nane put wyte vnto þe worthie king,
That was cleir inn[o]cent of all þis thing.
The bairn was hovin and fosterit, God wat quhow—
It was no neid to bid God help him now—
Off four realmis to hauld of his impyre.
And quhan he com to spek and gang of age,
He passit all vther bairnis of curage,
And als in scholis he consauit mare
Of perfect doctrine, of cuning, and of lare
Na ony bairn þat in þe cuntre was;
Bot he was nothir of body na of face
Lyk to þe king, na to þe mother him bare:
He was lyk ane lyone as of his hare;
He was bot littill of stature of bodie,
And rycht weill hewit in his phisnomie,
But he had ane e mare, ane vther les;
The tane was blak, and glauk þe tother was,
That is to say, quhite wawill-eit in oure leid,
And haistie glydand as ane lyoun he ȝeid;
He was weill membrit and brawnit in his fassoun,
And rysand breistit, hale as ane lioun;
He had ane propir fassoun singularlie,
Lyk to nane vther in all þe land him by.
He was rycht gracius eik, and debonar,
That ilkane louit and fauorit him all quhare,
Gracius in speiche, fare language and tractabill,
And till all thing he set him, passand habill;
Gret ene and ronde, and furth set in his hed;
Ane staitlie luke, and lordlie, and litill gleyd;
His teith was scharpe, and sum part lang and quhyte;
Ane furth-born fere, his steping quike and tite;
Ane awfull blenk rycht with ane fyrie fere,
And euir wald dele and gif away his gere.
He was rycht fre and gud fallow of his mete,
Bot he dedenȝeit nocht with nane to ete,
And with þe lordis sonnis of þe land
He was ay iustand, warsland, and rageand,
And with þat he haid sic pith in all his play
That in all stryf he haid þe maistrie ay,
And lere in ane hour and bere away
Far mare þan ane vther wald vpoun ane day.
Thairfoir þe maisteris louit him oure all thing,
He was sa sweit to lare and to techeing,
And þus into habilitie of cors
He past all vtheris, of wisdome and of force.
He began sone in ȝouthed to be wys,
And euir virtwe louit and haitit vyce;
He louit neuir trature, trumpour, nor iucuris,
Lossingeris, na mowaris, nor hasardouris,
Na cruell men of blud onresonabill,
Na nane war mare to vice nor virtue abill,
Bot ay he louit men for þair worthines
That war inclynit to wit and hardines.
To men of haly kirk he did honour,
Till all wemen and pure folk he was succour;
Agane þe wrang he meinteinit ay þe rycht,
And haitit euir desait, falset, and sleicht;
He haitit als glutonie, adultre, and sweirnes,
And oure all thing onnedfull gredines;
He louit hartfull men þat war weill set,
And þame sustenit, and in þair neid þaim bet;
He mycht neuir tholl pryd vnressonabill,
Na fenȝeit men, þat war nocht veritabill.
As now I may nocht compt all his valoure,
Bot his conditionis maid him conquerour.
Quha wald haue honour, conquest, or victorie,
Wirschip, hie vassaleg, or chaualrie,
Thame neidis nane vther teching na doctour
Bot þis storie to be to þame mirrour,
For it contenis so gret wisdome and wit
That euir þe maire þat men oure-reid of it,
The mair þai sall haue pleasance and lyking,
For ay the langar þe mair gudelie thing.

Alexander haid maisteris of science,
The best mycht be of virtue and prudence;
Mony and sindrie socht war oure all quhair,
Him to instruct in science and lair,
Sum of gramer, sum of philosophie,
Sum in logik, sum in astronomie,
In art-magik and nycromancie alsua;
The quhilk Nectanabus was ane of tha,
Astarus was ane vther, and Leonides,
Carsaligos and Aristotiles,
Bot Nectanabus of his motheris bidding
Was neirest him and maister of his teching,
Throw quhilk þair rais a sclander preuelie
That he suld be his father sickerlie,
Off quhilk þe quene was gretumlie misdemit,
Quhilk nothing till Alexander it semit.
Sa one ane nycht Nectanabus furth went
Forto behauld into þe firmament;
And to þe stern of his natiuitie
Quhan [he] beheld, he fell in ane studie,
And in his mynd worth trist and dolorus.
This seand, Alexander said till him thus,
“Maister, þow seis sum thing þe amovis;
I pray þe schaw me, as þow me louis.”
He said, “It rynis to na man bot to me—
It is þe stern of my natiuitie,
Is ionit with þe stern of my ending,
And me think it suld be ane ferlie thing.”
“Quhy is it ferlie, maister?”, said the bairn;
“May it be fals þat schawis by þe stern?”
“Na, sone,” said he, “bot a thing I behald,
Quhilk þat þe goddis anis on me tald,
And bad me with myne awin bairnis be war,
For myne awin son suld be myne vndoar.”
Than Alexander to þe sclander tuke hed,
And monie said he was his sone indeid,
And for to gar men trow he was nocht sa—
For nane wald traist he wald his father sla,
Na Nectanabus in nathing him mistr[ai]stit,
Bot to þe kirnall of þe tour he him haistit,
To se mare cleirlie þe coniunctioun,
Gif ony change war or mutatioun;
And as he sett þe quadrant till his e,
The child drew neir, and said, “Maister, lat se—
Is ȝone þine ending stern þat I se now?”
And with þat worde he gaue him sic ane sch[o]w
That oure þe kirnall he went with ane fors;
His banis braik, and burst was all his cors,
Sayand, “Þow aw weill sic ane ded to de—
In tyme bygane þow hes it seruit to me.”
He lukit doun and saw him at þe erd:
“Now is þi fortune brokin and þi werde”.
The tother said, “It is haldin all out—
Myne awin sone has me slane, without dout”;
Bot he trow[i]t nocht he was his sone for-þi,
Supois sic sclander passit preuallie.
He granit soir, and spak ȝit at þe last:
“Now se I weill my goddis war all suthfast,
For Alexander, þow art my sone, but dreid;
My goddis said my sone suld do þis deid.
Now se I weill goode end sall neuir be
Off generatioun gottin in adulterie,
And Alexander, I pray þe specially
That nane sic men be in þ[i] company;
And marie ane, and keip þe fra þe laue,
Bot þow þame marie, as þow will wirschip haue,
And keip þe weill for tressoun of þi self,
For swik of tressoun beswikis euir þe self”;
With þat he gaue gaist withoutin mair.
Than Alexanderis hart was wounder sair,
Quhan at his end he said his father he was,
And tuk him vp and in his armes couth bras,
And to þe palace bare him or he ceist,
And doun befoir his mother he him keist,
Sayand, “Mother, my maister I haue slane”;
Off quhilk thythingis þe [quene] was nathing fane:
Sche said, “Allace, my sone, quhy did þow sua?
He was þi father certanlie, but ma;
I was desauit throw him, suthfaslie,
Bot no man wist þe suth bot he and I;
He brocht in to my chalmer god Amone,
And I for fraidnes fell in swone,
And in þe tyme he conuerst with me,
Syne gart me trow þe god Amon wes he.
Ȝit traist I it be sua, sa haue [I] seill,
For King Philip knawis þis mater weill,
And haldis þe as goddis sone and his.
Thairfoir, deir sone, as þow wald haue my blis,
Thow neuir speik of þis mater to þe king,
And gif he speikis to þe in ony thing,
Tell him þat god Amon warnit the
That of þis warld hale conquerour sall þow be.”
“Mother,” he said, “þat is ane suthfast tale,
For all þe goddis are þairon accordit hale,
And traistis þat be þe iugement
Of all þe doctouris, in þe firmament
The goddis all ar consentand of þis,
And þat my birth be þame providit is;
Thus, sen I maid was throw þair ordinance,
And suld be reulit be þair gouernance,
That efter King Philip be laid in grave,
Na father bot god Amon will I haue,
For King Philip my father tald me hale
Quhow god Amon helpit him in battell,
Fechtand with him in gyse of ane dragone,
And fellit of his fayis gret fusoun,
And quhow he apperit to him be ane visioun,
And maid with ȝow my generatioun.
Thus sen all hale þe case knawis he and ȝe,
Suppois he will nocht ȝit it publist be,
Efter his deth me thing maist resoun
That I me call þe sone of god Amon.”

Quhan Alexander was cumin to [twelf] ȝeir of eild,
He vsit him to play with speir and scheild,
For nature schawis þe craft þat bairne will to,
Efter his natur, as he seis vther do;
He was baith hardie, virtuus, wyse, and wycht,
And lyke ane lord quhan he was prouidlie pycht.
Than was þe king þairof blyth and ioyus
Quhan he saw Alexander him gouern þus,
And quhan Nectanabus was ded away,
Than Aristotill þai gart byd with him ay;
In Athenes þe gret vniuersitie,
Thair at þe schole in ȝouthed maist was he.
Bot ȝit supois þat Aristotell, flour of clergie,
In phisik magik and nicromancy
Experience haid, ȝit thocht he it was ill
It for to wse, in resoun and in skill;
Thocht he expert and knawand all thing was,
He vsit nocht bot virtue and godlines,
For all his will, wit, and intentioun
Was set to virtue, gudnes, and ressoun.
And efter þat Alexander haid lerit alhale
The sevin science of clergie naturall,
Than techit he him þe hie astronomie,
Baith artmagik and necromancie,
Off weird of fortune be physinomie,
And als þe practik of þe palmastrie.
Syne into morall virtue he him foundit,
And into wit and wisdome he him groundit,
And bad him, gif he thocht till haue victo[ur],
And cum to glore, wirschip, and honour,
That euir he sett resoun befoir his deid,
And help all pure and peciabill at neid,
And, all supois he haid þe subtiltie
Off artmagik and necromancie,
Bad him nocht vse, bot keip him fra dessait,
And all sic thing was devilrie and falset,
And all þir goddis and mawmentis was bot deuilrie,
And þat þair was bot ane God anerlie,
Quhilk spirituall was, nother mettell, stane, nor tre,
Bot inuisibill in His diuinitie,
Quhilk all thing reulit and gouernit halelie.
And, gif he thocht to cum to victorie,
That he war [neuir] cruell of mannis blude,
Bot haue pietie of man, quhow euir it stude,
For sen he bare a manis portrature,
He suld haue pietie of his awin nature,
And loue and honour Him þat manhed wrocht,
And nycht and day haue Him intill his thocht,
For gif grace of fortune schapin to men be,
It cumis of Him, for Lord of all is He.
And, gif him hapnit of ony to mak were,
He suld kirkmen and laboraris forbere,
To eild and gentryce euir mair to be freind,
And euir do wirschip to all wemen kynd,
And keip him self in clenenes fra all vyce,
And namelie out of pryde and couatyce,
For avarice is rute and ground of all,
And pride left neuir his maister but ane fall.
“Keip þi men, and be tender of þair staite,
Gar provay þame of victuall air and late,
Remufe in tyme, and travell litill in hett,
Depairt þe sleip to þine ost on þe day,
And on þe nycht tholl nane sleip gif þa[i] may;
Cast of þi wache, discouerand on all syde,
Ryd sarralie, skaill nocht þi men oure wyde,
Luge in full land, and neuir bot on ane ryueir,
And neir sum wode hald ay þi fayis on steir,
And euir hald spyis in þair company—
Mak þairon cost, it sall þe quyte treuly.
Stryk nane rudelie in reuling of þine ost,
Contrar na man, na glawmer man, na bost;
Speik honour of all men in audience,
And þame commend—gar do þame reuerence;
Be gude bakfreind, and heir of nane defame—
Ill takin is to gif ane blind man blame;
And correck þame þat may correckit be,
Sweit at part, be þame allane and þe;
Gif ony be vicius, and will nocht mend,
Pay him his fe and hame agane him send;
Loife ay gude men, bot nocht [in] þair presens;
Quha sa lak wald, mak ay for þame defence,
And fo[r] gude deid reward ay mychttelie;
Lat neuir þi gudis haue of þi hairt maistrie.”
Quhan Aristotill taucht him þis priuelie,
Thane lerd he him to knaw a phisnomy,
And quhow he suld be visage or stature,
And be þe pairtis of manis portrature,
Tak perfyte vnderstanding and knawleg
Off þair conditioun, nature, and curage;
And als þe fortune þat lay þame beforn,
Quhidder men to bliss or barret suld be born,
Into þe plenettis cleirlie couth he se,
Wittand þe hour of þair natiuitie.

The King Philip haid maid his orasoun
Till his goddis with gret deuotioun,
To send him trew and suthfest certening
Quha efter him suld succeid to be king,
And þai him tauld, bot he it held secre,
That he suld traist, þat man his are suld be
Quhilk mycht and durst þe ramist distrale dant,
And handill him to ryde him and to hant,
Quhilk till his name was callit Busefall,
Of quhilk all men þat knew him haid mervell
That sic ane hors was formit be nature,
For þair was neuir nane lyk of portrature;
And als of his conditioun and effeire,
It was lyk he was ordant for þe were,
Quhilk was in keiping into Capadose;
And for þe prince haid sic honour and lois
Of King Philipis, he send to him to speir
Gif sic ane hors mycht serve till maisteir,
And tauld him als his fassoun vterlie,
His conditioun and feiris halilie.
His body was weill schapin as ane hors,
Rycht propir in portrature in all his cors:
His mayne wes crist, and lokkerand hingand doun,
Curland as dois þe craig of ane lioun;
His breist was bred, as milk his hair was quhyte,
Weill maid behind, weill polist, in gude plyte,
Clovin in þe gu[m]p, with ane weill sett on taill,
Baith lang and schire, lach hingand as a vale,
Weill pasturit, hovit, and of gud mesure—
Thair was na falt into his portrature,
Bot þat his hed was till ane bull simlabill;
And in his trot was neuir hors moir abill;
Rycht litill erit, with tua gret rolland ene,
Bred of þe cheik, weill vpset on þe chin,
Hie browit, and rycht wyde vnder þe choke,
Gret neckit, cumand on þe widderlok,
And weill small at þe cuplin of þe hewide.
Natur in him na thing vnmade haid levid,
Bot þat he haid fyve hornis in his croun,
Lang teith and scharpe, most lyk till a lioun,
Schort, braugy nosit, and small at þe musell,
Wyd neis-thirlit, and sueirit cleir and hale;
His hed was soft, small, lengy as cordwan,
His creist was round, and glitterand was his mane,
And changit hew as sone in someris daye,
Lyk till ane pacok taill in middis of Maye,
With damask daupillis on craupoun and on creist,
With wantoun walope, and bridlit at beheist.
He eat na thing bot f[l]esche to his pasture,
And flesche of man maist plesit his nature.
He was boundin with iron chenȝeis fast,
Baith hed and feit, with lokis þat was traiste,
For first in ȝouthed, or men couth him ken,
Of his keiparis he wirreit mony men.
He was put in ane tubbe of allabast,
Ane brander of iron befoir him lokit fast,
And throw þat brander, lyke till a port-culis,
His mett was put intill him at a vice,
Be ane turnand gin throw hi[s] barier—
Thare durst na man cum till his trillis neir.
Quhan ony was condempnit be iustice,
Thay keist þame to þat hors in his trillis,
Quhilk fra þai com till him he maid na bade,
Bot with ane wisk ane end of þame he made:
Sum he reaf with his tuskis and þame ett,
All bot þe bowellis, with þair hed and fete.
Als throw þe trillis men mycht se lyand
Off dempnit men mony ane fut and hand—
Thair durst few men aventure him to se,
Sa wode ane luke and sa glourand haid he.

Than Alexander was warni[s]t mychtilie
In wit, wisdome, and science of clergie;
In Athenes, quhair flour of wisdome was,
He haid contenit þe studie ane lang space
With Aristotill, quhilk was þe worthiest
In science naturall, and eik þe best,
And in all science, as we haue said beforn,
For sic as he sen syne wes neuir born.
Be þat was Alexander of fyftene ȝeir,
And thocht þat it was tyme him to steir,
And thocht he wald na langar byd at lare,
Bot hame to Macedone þan wald he fare.
Sa it befell þat Philip þe king
Haid gart proclame ane generall iusting,
At quhilk ȝoung Alexander fane wald haue bene,
Bot þat complesit nothing to þe quene.
He gart oure-seik þe cuntre far and neir,
To se gyf he mycht find ane fare destrair,
Ane sturdie steid þat was in iusting habill,
Proferand mair gold na war resonabill,
Bot he couth find nane þat war of sic fassoun
That he wald denȝe him to ryde vpoun.
The sembill of þe iusting aprochit neir—
The Prince of Capadoce tuke þe destreir,
And langald him with irn langaldis fast
On euirie syde, þat on na wayis wald brast,
With hilter and with chenȝe and musell as a bere,
That in travell he suld nocht hurt na deire,
And till ane chare of foure quheilis him band,
With armit men keipand on ilk hand,
And send sua to þe King of Macedone.
And als fast as he lukit him vpone,
He gaif him sic ane favour and a loue,
And sone ane closer gart for him controue,
With port-culis turnand with ane gin,
Thay leit befoir him fall quhan he was in,
With ane wyde tirlis þat throw men mycht him se,
And certane keiparis by him ay to be;
Quhan ony was condempnit be iustice,
Thay keist thame to him oure [þe] port-culis;
And quhan he was þe closer enterit in,
Thay lousit þe musell, þat closit was with a gin,
And þan was nathing fasnit bot his feit.
Na kynd of fude vther þan flesche he eat,
And þat God wat, na falt of flesche haid he—
The king haid biddin þat he suld haue plentie.