University of Virginia Library

O myghty fader in heuen on hye
One god and persones thre
That made bothe daye and nyght
And after as it was thy wyll
Thyn owne sone thou sent vs tyll
In amayden to lyght
Syth the Iewes that were wylde
Hanged hym that was so mylde
And to dethe hym dyght
Whan he was deed the sothe to saye
To lyfe he rose on the thyrde daye
Thoroughe his owne myght
Then to helle he wente anone
And toke out soules many one
Out of that holde he hente
Maugre the fendes that were bolde
He toke the prysoners out of holde
With them to heuen he wente
On his faders ryght hande he hym sette
That all sholde knowe withouten lette
That he was omnypotente
And after wysdome he was sente
That all sholde kepe his commaundemente
And for to byleue in hym verray
That is our sauyour
That borne was of that blyssed floure
That hyght Mary I saye
That shall vs deme withouten mysse
Some to payne and some to blysse
At dredefull domes daye
Tho that byleue on hym a ryght
To blysse they gone with aungelles bryght
{And bl}ysse and Ioye for aye
{No}wIhesu as thou bought vs dere
Gyue them Ioye this gest wyll here
And herken on a ryght
Some men loueth to here tell
Of doughty knyghtes that were fell
And some of ladyes bryght
And some myracles that are tolde
And some of venterous knyghtes olde
That for our lorde dyde fyght
As Charles dyde that noble kynge
That hethen downe dyde brynge
Thrughe the helpe of god almyghty
He wanne fro the hethen houndes
The spere and nayles of crystes woundes
And also the crowne of thorne
And many a ryche relyke mo
Mawgre of them he wanne also
And kylled them euen and morne
The turkes and the paynyms bolde
He felled doune many a folde
Durst none stande hym beforne
Charles gan them so affraye
That the catyues myght curse the daye
And the tyme that they were borne

Now Machamyte that turke vntrue
To our lorde Cryst Ihesu
And to his lawe also
Many crysten men slayne hath be
And wanne constantyne ye noble cyte
With many townes mo
He brent and slew/& lefte none on lyfe
Neyther man/chylde/ne wyfe
To dethe he made them go
Yonge Innocentes yt neuer dyde gylte
That false turke hath them spylte
He played the kynge Pharao
All the stretes of Constantyne
Ranne blode reder than wyne
That meruayle was to se
There coude no man his fote downe sette
I gyue you knowlege withouten lette
But on a deed body
The crysten men wente to wrake
The chirches and our ymages they brake
That were made of stone and tree
The crucyfyxe of our sauyour
They kest it downe with dyshonour
And also our lady
The slewe our preestes at the masse
Goddes men had no grace
They kylled them downe in euery stede
Bothe preestes & clerkes they put to dede
Within goddes holy place
The turkes kene with shelde and spere
Our preestes before the hye aultere
They ranne thrughe in a rage
Many gan dye for crystes loue
Aungelles theyr soules bare aboue
To blysse and moche solace
Thus the turke the wycked quede
Crysten people he put to dede
And lefte fewe vpon lyue
The hethen cryed with grete dyspyte
On mahounde and Macamyte
The turkes men full ryue
There was none that durst on Ihesu crye
But they were taken and slayne in hye
Anone and that byleue
The turke hym selfe a crye dyde make
There sholde no man a prysoner take
God lette them neuer thryue
Then the dogges yt byleued on mahounde
The crysten people kylled to the grounde
No golde myght be theyr mede
The Crysten sawe that they sholde dye
And on theyr maysters layde hande quycly
And faught a wele good spede
Euery prysoner then on lyue
Kylled of the turkes foure or fyue
To helle theyr soules yede
Or our prysoners after were take
Many a turke they made blake
There was no helme nor haubergyon
Plate or male nor good aucton
Theyr dyntes myght refrayne
Macamyte sawe his men so dye
And loude on mahound ehe gan crye
In herte he was not fayne
Our crysten neded no wepen craue
The stretes laye full take who wolde haue
To fyght with men of mayne
Anone within a lytell throwe
Fyue .M. turkes on a rowe
In the stretes lay slayne
Whan Mychamyte that spyed
Out on mahounde he cryed
And as a fende dyde yell
Our crysten stode in full grete doubte
As doughty men layde fast aboute
Upon the houndes of helle
Our crysten men were then to fewe
For the turkes came euer newe
In sothe as I you tell
Our men hewed on hastely
And made turkes loude to crye
The false downe they fell
Thus countred with sarasyns kene
Tyll .lxxx.M. were layde be dene
In a lytell thought
Mychamyte was neuer so wo
To se so fewe so many slo
His sorowe was not shorte
He cryed Mahounde as he wolde braste
Our crysten on Ihesu cryed faste
That all the worlde wrought
Some scaped away with goddes grace
On lyue maugre the turkes face
But many than gan dye
At the dystruccyon of Cyuys
Were not so many slayne ywys
As were on bothe partyes
Alas saufe crysten wyll of heuen
Our crysten were made vneuen
With a false company
For of the turkes and sarasyns kene
An .C. were withouten wene
Agaynst one of our meny

The emperour of Constantyne
A doughty man at a tyme
The turke hym toke that hethen hounde
And gaue hym many a grysly wounde
I praye god gyue hym grame
He bounde hym tyll the blode out braste
And badde hym forsake Ihesu in haste
Or elles thou shalte haue shame
Haue done anone/and hym defye
And also his moder Marye
That thou callest his dame
Ualeryan answered and sayd nay
Thou shalte neuer se that daye
That I shall hym forsake
Turne the turke and all thy men
Or elles in helle thou shalte brenne
Amonge the fendes blacke
Leue in Ihesu full of myght
And that mayden that he in lyght
For crysten men sake
Than the turke wexed euyll a payed
Commaunded his men at a brayed
Anone to make hym naked
He bad them bete him with scourges kene
And after bore out his eyen
With wymbles hote and reed
They plucked his herte by and by
And bothe his eeres on hy
They cut of his heed
With pynsons his teche they brake
Bad hym anone his god forsake
Or sholde neuer ete breed
They sawe in no wyse that it wolde be
Anone they made a sawe of tre
And sawed hym to deed
Tho the turkes with moche payne
This doughty men haue they slayne
For Crystes sake I saye
And so they dyde with many mo
The turkes myght curse the tyme also
That they there came that daye
Of crystes people was many a part marte
There was no turke payed of his parte
By the laste ende of the fraye
They had helle for theyr fyght
They crysten wente to heuen bryght
To bye in blysse for aye
Thus is constantyne ye noble cyte wonne
Beten doune with many a gonne
And crysten people slayne
There the turke with his meyne
Keped styll that noble cyte
Durste no man hym with sayne
Forty myle rounde aboute
Durst no man by hym route
Neyther on hyll ne playne
The turke kepte the felde many a day
Crysten people in the countray
Of hym were dredde Isayne
Where they myght ony crysten gete
I tell you now withouten doute
They lefte there lyfe to wedde
All suffred dethe for Crystes sake
That this turke myght ouertake
But thus they for hym fledde
Therof herde a holy frere
The werkes of the fendes fere
And to Rome hym spedde
Iohan capystranus the frere hyght
I dare say he was goddes knyght
An holy man was he
To the pope anone he wanne
Capystranus that holy man
And kneled vpon his kne
He sayd fader for crystes lone of heuen
That made this worlde and dayes seuen
Herken now to me
There is a turke I vnderstande
That brennes and slees goddes lande
Grete dole it is to se
The turke his purose is
I lete you wete withouten mys
To wynne all hungree
Therfore fader put thy holy hande
And helpe to warre goddes lande
His true vycar yf thou be
He brenneth chirches in euery place
Crysten men gothe to deth a pace
To beholde is grete pyte
Now fader helpe with thy socoure
For Maryes loue that swete floure
Our hope is moche in the
With two hondred this same daye
To Grecuswyssyngburgh he toke the waye
This is no scorne
Many a thousande there shall dye
If he wynne that ryall cytye
All hungrye is forlorne
I am the messynger of Ihesus
Truely lorde it wyll be thus
As I haue sayd beforne
Therfore helpe with all thy myght
For goddes loue for to fyght
That was of Marye borne
Than the pope sayd anone
Good broder frere Ihon
As I vnderstande
Thou prechest goddes wordes wyde
In the countree on euery syde
In many a dyuerse lande
Thou knowest many a noble man
Take a capytayne where thou can
Whyder that he be free or bonde
And as I am goddes vycar true
This false turke his rese shall rue
And therto my holy hande
Now fader I thanke the hartely
To chese a capytayne the bydde me
Certayne without ony mys
Now holy fader withouten layne
This shall be my capytayne
He sayd the pope ymys
A baner of crystes pyssyon
That mannes soule dyde redempcyon
And brought them from payne to lyght
Holowe it with thy hande
The people may the better stande
That vnder it dooth fyght
This shall be my capytayne
An other wolde I haue fayne
That is thy bull of leed
That all that vnder it dooth fyght
For goddes loue moost of myght
Euer in ony lande
If it happen them to be slayne
That theyr soules come neuer in payne
After that they be deed
The people sayd blyssed myght thou be
A holy man I holde the
I wyll do after thy rede
Anone ye baner was made and halowed
The bull cealed and vp folded
And the pardon of grace
Delyuered it to the frere truely
The people blyssed hym tymes thre
And thus his leue he taketh
Barefote he bare out of the toune
The baner of crystes passyoune
Towarde the turke he hasteth
And preched goddes lawe as he yede
And moche people to hym gan spede
To gete theyr soules solace
Grete golde and syluer was hym gyuen
And euer he delte it euen
Tho people that with hym yede
So certaynly as I you saye
All romayne for hym dyde praye
And so it was grete nede
Suche freres we haue to fewe
Pray all we Cryste Ihesu
To be his helpe and spede
For of this I fynde a fytte
Ferther and ye wyll sytte
Herkyn and take good hede

This frere wente to Hungry
And many men with hym truely
That for our lorde dyde fyght
To an vnyuersyte he toke the waye
The gretest in Hungrye I dare well saye
Gottauntas it hyght
Out of the vnyuersyte there wente in fere
Syxe and twenty .M. with the frere
Of relygyous men full ryght
The moost partye was preestes I saye
Eueryche preued hym that day
That he was goddes knyght
The frere with grete deuocyon
Bare the baner of crystes passyon
Amonge the people all
Dysplayed abrode grete Ioye to se
Men of dyuerse countre
Fast to hym gan fall
Thus passed forthe Capystranus
And met with the good erle Obedyanus
A captayne pryncypall
Twenty thousande and mo
Amonge them was but knyghtes two
And thus men dooth them call
Rycharde morpath a knyght of Englonde
And syr Iohan Elacke I vnderstonde
That was a turke before
And now he is a curteys knyght
I lete you wete and a wyght
And stedfast in our lore
Many a turke hath greued sore
Theyr lyues they lefte behynde
He hath made them hop heedles
Many one withouten les
Where he myght theym fynde
There .xx. thousande met in fere
With Obedyauns and the frere
In helme and hauberke bryght
To grecuswyssynburgh he toke the waye
There the turke at syege laye
With many a knyght
Fourtene wekes the turke had ben there
And put the crysten to moche fere
To hym they had no myght
Fyue .C. gonnes he lete shote at ones
Brake doune the walles with stones
The wylde fyre lemed lyght
To here it was grete wonder
The noyse of gonnes moche lyke the thonder
That was a frefull dynne
The noyse was herde many a myle
Obedyaunce the meane whyle
Entred the towne within
At .vi of the clocke the sothe to saye
After noone on the Maudeleyne
And neyther lesse ne mo
And Capystranus good frere Ihon
Assoyled our men euerychone
To batayll or they dyde gone
And cryed loude with voyce clere
Lete vs fyght for our soupere
In heuen is redy dyght
Our baner shall I bere to daye
And to Ihesu fast shall praye
To spede vs in our ryght
Anone they togyder mette
Fyue .M. deed withouten lette
In helme and hauberke bryght
Obedianus that noble man
Slewe them fast that serued sathan
Thorowe cryst theyr crownes had care
All that he with his faucon hyt
There was no salue I lette you wyt
That euer myght hele that sore
There was no turke that he with met
But he had suche a buffet
That he greued neuer crysten man more
He was a doughty knyght
The fals he felled for goddes ryght
I praye god wele myght he fare
Morpath and blacke Iohan
That daye kylled turkes many one
Certayne withouten lette
There was none so good armoure
That theyr dyntes myght endure
Helme nor bryght basynet
They hewe vpon the hethen on hye
They fyre out of euery syde gan flye
So boldely on they bette
Many a turke there was cast
Beten tyll the braynes brast
Theyr maysters there they mette
Many a .M. of preestes there was
The turkes herde neuer suche a masse
As they harde that daye
Our preestes te deum songe
The hethen fast downe they donge
Then pax was put awaye
There was scole maysters of the best
Many of them were brought to rest
That wolde not lere theyr lawe
Thus our crysten people dyde fyght
From .v. of ye clocke on Maudeleyne nyght
Tyll .x. on the other daye
Then came ye turkes with newe batayll
Clene clad in plate and male
A .C. thousande and mo
On dromydaryes gan they ryde
And kylled our men on euery syde
Two .M. were there sloo
Our men to stande they had no mayne
But fledde to the towne anone
With woundes wyde and bloo
Twenty thousande of our men
Were borne downe at the brydge ende
The turkes were so thro
Dromydaryes ouer them ranne
And kylled downe bothe horse and man
In the felde durst none abyde
Obedianus had many a wounde
Or he wolde flee the grounde
For all the turkes pryde
Morpath and blacke Iohan
Had woundes many one
That blody were and wyde
To the towne they fledde on fote
They sawe it was no better bote
Theyr stedes were slayne that tyde
The turkes folowed in to the towne
And kylled all before them downe
Grete doyll it was to see
In to the towne the grete turke wanne
And kylled wyfe chylde and man
The Innocentes thycke gan dye
Iohan Capystranus se that it was thus
And hent a curcyfyxe of cryst Ihesus
Ranne vp tyll a toure on hye
The halowed baner with hym he bare
In the top of the toure he set it there
And cryed full pytefully
He sayd lorde god in heuen on hye
Where is become thyn olde myght
That men were wonte to haue
O my lorde cryste Ihesus
Why hast thou forgoten vs
Now helpe of the we craue
Loke on thy people that do thus dye
Lorde ones cast downe thyn eye
And helpe thy men to saue
Now lorde sende downe thy moche myght
Agaynst these fendes for to fyght
That so thy people dyspray
Thynke lorde how I haue preched thy lawe
Gone barefote bothe in frost and snawe
To please the to thy paye
I haue fasted and suffred dysease
Prayed all onely the to please
The psalmes ofte I saye
For all my seruyse I haue done the
I aske no more to my fee
But helpe thy men to day
For and thou lette them thus spyll
I am ryght in good wyll
For euer to forsake thy laye
Now mary mayden helpe me to daye
Or elles thy matyns shall I neuer saye
Dayes of all my lyue
Ne no prayer that the shall please
But yf thou helpe now our desease
Ne menye thy Ioyes fyue
A poynt is for thy maydenhede
That all this people suffreth dede
Now helpe to stynte our stryue
Now lady of thy men haue pyte
Praye for them to thy sone on hye
As thou arte mayden and wyfe
O lorde fader omnypotent
Thynke on ye myracle yt thou charles sent
That for the dyde fyght
Thrughe his prayer and grace
The sone shone styll thre dayes space
And shone with beames bryght
Pharao thou drowned in the see
Tho that thou lete go free
Awaye thou ledde them ryght
This daye lorde thou helpe thy men
Thou art also bygge now as thou was then
And of as moche myght
The frere loude on god cryed
A longe myle on euery syde
The people herde his voyse
Twenty .M. dede for to see
Within the twynclyn of an eye
To lyfe they rose agayne
Echone a wepyn in hande hente
And frely began to fyght
And felde downe fast theyr foes
The good erle Obedianus
Faught frely for our lorde Ihesus
On euery syde spronge his lose
He droue the truke out of the towne
The crysten felled the false downe
And droue them to the felde agayne
Twenty .M. with them mette
Or elles the turke withouten lette
Surely had ben slayne
Than were they fayne for to fyght
Than euer was foule of daye lyght
Certayne withouten layne

Now begynneth a newe batayll
I let you wyt withouten fayle
Of myghty men of mayne
Ychone hewe on other with Ire
That all the felde semed fyre
Also lyght as leme of thonder
Euery man hurte other in hast
And layde on basynettes to braynes brast
And euer the false fell vnder
The blode ranne all the felde
Of doughty men vnder shelde
To se it was grete wonder
There was hewynge from the hals
The helmes and the hedes als
Ryche knyghtes were vnknytte
Many a turke withouten fayle
Tombled top ouer tayle
That neuer rose yet
So harde on helmes they hewe
That there were turkes but fewe
That in sadyll coude sytte
There was no turke there
But he myght tell of moche care
I lette you well wytte
There was stycked many a stede
Grete dromydaryes made blede
Tho they for faynt fell
The crysten men had quarelles good
They dredde nothynge to shed theyr blode
Whan Ihesu dyde them call
They hewed on with swerdes kene
Of helmes with the hedes by deene
Tumbled as a ball
So delte they strokes on a brayde
That no turke helde hym apayde
The proudest of them all
There was hurtelynge in fere
Broken many a sharpe spere
And drawen many a knyfe
Stedes sterted out of stryfe
And kest theyr maysters in the waye
Utterly byleue
Many a hethen in theyr ghere
His folowe gan downe bere
And to the erthe hym dryue
The blode ranne thrughe the brest