University of Virginia Library

Þe king of spayne gan crie keneli & schille,
“war be he þat þe wolf weldes in his scheld,
þat haþ murþered mi men & swiche harm wrouȝt?
Miȝt i now haue hap him ones to sene,
I wold him hunte as hard as euer hounde in erthe
honted eny werwolf but wel he his ware
þat i so many hondes haue on him vn-coupled,
þat he for alle his douȝti dedes dar him nouȝt schewe.
but what man vpon molde so may him me bring,
I schal riuedli him rewarde to be riche for euer,
& mak him my chef stiward to stiȝtli alle my godes.”
þan was þer a kud kniȝt þe cunstables sone of spayne,
come wel þre daies bi-fore þe king for to help.
an .c. kene kniȝttes in cumpanie he brouȝt,
& him-self a bold burn þe best of hem alle,
& meliadus of miȝti men þe kniȝt was called.
whan he þe kinges cry clenli hadde herde,
as bliue with his burnes he braide in-to prese,
& demened him douȝtili with dentes ful rude.
he slow of þe citeȝens in a schort while,
six grete lordes and þe seuenþe nere.
whan william was war of his douȝti dedes,
deliuerly as a douȝti man he drow to him euen,
Grimli eiþer oþer gret whan þei gonne mete,
so spakli here speres al on speldes went.
& swiftli seþþe with swerdes swonge þei to-gider,
þat many were a-meruailed of here douȝti dedes.
& þis miȝti meliadus in þat meling while
a sturne strok set william on his stelen helm,
& wounded him wickedli wittow forsoþe.
whan þis bold william saw his blod so breme,
liȝt as a lyoun he leide on al a-boute,
& marked þat meliadus with mayn swiche a dint,
þat þurth þe helm & þe hed hastili to þe gurdel
his brond his bodi to-cleued for alle his briȝt armes;
& he tit ouer his hors tayl tombled ded to þerþe.
þer-of williams wiȝes were wonderli gladde,
& as sori in þe oþer side þe segges were of spaine,
for in þat meliadus miȝt was here most hope,
to haue conquered william wiþ clene strengþe of armes.
but whan þei seie him ded sone gun þei turne,
and to flen as fast as þei faire miȝt.
but william & his wiȝes so wrouȝten þat time,
no rink þei miȝt of-reche recuuered neuer after,
ne no man vpon mold miȝt ayme þe number
of þe freliche folk þat in þe feld lay slayn.