University of Virginia Library

Ector the Honerable, erly at Morne,
When the sun vp soght with his softe beames,
Ledar of the ledis, þat longit to Troy,
He purpost his pepull with his pure wit,
ffor to fare to the fight, & the fild take.
He somond all the Cité vppon sere haluys,
Euery buerne to be boun on hor best wise,
Armyt at all peses abill to fight;
And assemblit in sad hast hym seluyn before,
On a place, þat was playn, plesaund with all,
There a temple was tild of tide Diana,
ffull worthely wroght weghis to beholde.
Thidur comyn the kynges with knightes enarmyt,
And were pertid full pristly, put into batell,
By deuyse of the duke, þat doghtie was aye,
As for the fight at the full on the first day.
ffor to ȝarpe vp the ȝate, he ȝepely comaund,
Þat hight Dardan by-dene duly to nome.
Of his cosyns he cald kyde men two:
On Glaucon, a gome þat graithe was in armys,
(He was a knight full kant, the kynges son of Lice,
And a wight mon in wer, wild of his dedis)
And Synabor, forsothe, the secund was he,
Ector owne brother, abill to fight.
To hom assignet the souerain, all of sure knightes,
A thowsaund full þro, þriuaund in wer,
Strong men in stoure, sturnest of will,
Witty and wild, waled men all
Of the ledis of Lice & of leue troy.
In Neptune nome & nobill goddis other,
Bad hom wend for hor worship tho worthy togedur;
And þai glode furth gladly at the grete yate,
Tawardes the grekes on the ground in a grym ost.
Þen ordant Ector, of honerable knightes,
Of wise men in wer, wightly a thowsaund;
Betaght to Teseus, of trasy was kyng,
With archilacus a choise knight in his chere som;
Gaf loue to þo lordys, let hom pas on,
Bed hom fare to þe frekys, þat before were,
And bothe in a batell as hom best lyket.
The secund batell, sothely, þe soueran araiet,
Of thre thowsond þro knyghtis, þryuond togedur,
And assignet hom, for soueran, Xantipus þe kyng,
And Ascane also, abill of dedys,
Þat of frigie þe faire, þai were fre kynges.
Þen be leue of þe lord, þo ledys in fere
Bowet to þe brode ȝate, hor burnys hom with,
And gon tooward þe grekis with a grete chere.
The þrid batell in þe burgh, þat þe buerne made,
Was as mony abill knyghtes, auntrus of hond,
Of þe tulkys of troy, tidé men all,
With Troilus to turne furthe, truest of knyghtes.
And ector full onestli his aune brother taght,
With fayre wordis in faythfull of hys fre will:—
“Dere brother and derfe, I dout me full sore,
Lest þi friknes so furse, in þi fell hert,
Brynge þe to bale for þi bold dedys;
Þat þou couet be-curse to caire into woche,
And ouer fer on þi fose fare by þi seluyn!
I pray þe full prestli, with all my pure saule,
Þat þou kepe þi corse, for case þat may fall,
And fare not with foli oure fos for to glade,
Ne wirk notonwysly in þi wilde dedis,
Þat þi manhod be marte thurgh þi mysrewle;
But bere þe in batell as a buerne wyse,
Þat þi fose thurgh þi foli þe faynen not worthe,
Ne be cheryst with chere thurgh our chaunse febyll!
Go furthe now with fortune, þat þe fayre happyn!
Our goddis the gouerne, & soche grace lene
Þat þou the victorie wyn, thi worship to saue,
And to þis Citie in sound þi seluyn may come.”
Than Troilus tomly talket agayne:—
“Dere sir, of my dedis doute no thing!
With grase of our goddes, in our gate furthe,
Your comanudement to kepe, as my kynd brother,
And my lord, þat is lell, my lust shalbe ay!”
Than he past with his pepull to the playn fild,
Thre thowsaund thromen, without þrepe more.
This the bold knight bare for his bright armys;
All his shelde was to shew shynyng of gold,
With þre lions lyuely launchound þerin,
Ouer-gilt full gay, gomys to behold:
And so he fore to his fos with a fyne wille!
The furthe batell in the burghe the bold knight arayet,
Of fell fightyng men full þre thowsaund,
All of knightes full kene, kyddest in armys,
And seven hundreth besyde, all of sure knightes,
Vnder ledyng of a lord in Larrys was kyng,—
Hupon the hoge, a hegh mon of stature,
And in batell full big, bold of his hondes;
Dissyrus was the Duke in dedes of armys,
Of all the Troiens, to tell, torest in fight,
Saue Ector the honerable, oddist of knightes.
And in his company come a kyd mon in armys,
On Ardelaus full auntrus, abill of person,
Þat come with the same kyng fro his kythe riche,
And was doughty of his dedis, derf on a stede.
Þes laughten þere leue at þe lefe prince,
And gone to þe grekes with a grym chere,
Soghten the same yate softly to gedur;
And on Damake, by-dene, þat was dere brother,
To Ector hym owne selfe, auntrid hom with,
As for doghty of dede & for dere holdyn.
The ffyfte batell of bold men, þat the buerne made,
He ordant on Oysom, the honerable kyng,
Of the ledis of the lond the ledyng to haue,
With Polidamus of prise, the prinses owne brother.
Þes Oysoms all were od men of strenght,
Massily made, mykell as giaunttes,
And all þere colouris to ken was of clene yalow,
With-outen difference to deme dubbit þerin:
All luttyn the lord & þere leue toke,
And foren onon to þe fild þaire fos to assaile.
The Sexte Batell, þat was sent fro þe Cité þen,
Ordant by Ector [of] odmen & noble,—
The pepull of Poyem, with þere pure kynges,
And Seripes, a sad Duke of the same lond,
Þat were fond to the fight, fell of hor dedis.
Vnarmyt were þai all, aunter was the more,—
No helmys, ne hawberghes, ne no hard shildes,—
Bowmen of the best, þo buernes were all,
Well enfourmet of þe fete, & hade fyne takell:
Mony woundis þai wroght, wete ye for sothe,
Bothe on horse & on here harmyt full mekull.
By ordinaunce of Ector, þes odmen to lede,
Was Deffibus demyt of his dere brother:
Þen þai lacchen þere leue at the lord euyn,
fforen to the fild with a fyn will.
To þes bowmen bold, þat of burgh went,
Ector did ordan od men of armys,
A gret nowmber for the nonest, noble knightes all,
Vnder care of two kynges, þat þai come with:
Philon the fuerse, faithly was on,
And Esdras þat other, eddist in wer,
With all the gomes of Agresta, gode men & abill.
This Philon the fre kyng, þat I first nemyt,
Hade a chariot full choise, as þe chalke wyte,
All of yuer full onest, ordant for hym;
And the whelis full wheme, all of white aumber.
Couert with a cloth all of clene gold,
Dubbit full of diamondis, & oþer dere stones,
fframet ouer fresshly with frettes of perle.
Two dromoudarys drowe hit, dressit þerfore,
And led it furth lyuely with light men of armys,
Vne full for the fight, & fuerse men & nobill.
With the kynges in company comaund the prinse,
His aune brother full bold, barly to wend,
Þat hym fell on his fader side a fighter full nobill.
Nowther lut he þe lord, ne no leue toke,
But kaires fourthe with the kyng & his course held.
The Seuynt, þat assignet was the souerain before,
Was auntrus Eneas, abill of person;
In his company clene, the knightes of the lond,
Þat heldyn in hede of þat high Cité,
With fele fightyng folke of the fuerse comyns,
Þat were gouernet by a gome, þat was graith holdyn,—
A fyne squier & a fuerse,—Eufemius he hight;
At Ector þai asket leue, & yssuit furth somyn.
The Eghtid Batell in the burgh, þat the buerne set,
Vnder Serces for-sothe, the souerain of Percé,
With all the pepull of his prouynce, prise men & nobill,
And his brother of blud, þat he best loued.
Paris he put to þere pure hede,
And said hym full soberly, all in soft wordes,
Þof he bownet fro the burgh to the batell euyn,
Þat he fell not to fight with no felle grekes,
Till hym selfe were beside for socour at nede.
And Paris to the prinse pertly aunsward;—
“Sir, your comaundement to kepe, I cast me for-sothe,
With all the might, þat I may, at þis mene tyme.”
He lut hym full lelly, & his leue toke,
And past furth with his pepull to þe playn fild.
Then Ector, hym owne selfe ordant belyue,
The last batell to lede of his lege pepull.
Of the truemen of Troy & his triet brether,
He toke with hym ten, most tristy in wer,
And fyue thowsaund fuerse, all of fyn knightes,
Wise men of were, & of wit nobill,
ffor to fare to þe fight with þaire fre prinse.
Hym selfe on a sad horse surely enarmyt,
Þat Galathe, with gomys gyuen was to nome,
Of whose mykill, & might, & mayn strenght,
Dares, in his dytyng, duly me tellus.
When the lede was o lofte, as hym list be,
Armyt well at [all] peces, as I er said,
He caires furth to þe kyng & his kynd fader,
Lowtis euyn to þe lord, & on lowde saide:—
“Dere fader, full faire, & my fre kyng!
Ye shall haue in a here of hend men a thousaund,
All of knightes full kene, & kid men of armys,
With all the fotemen in fere, þat are to fight abill.
Abidis here at the border, buske ye no fer!
Lokis well to þe listis, þat no lede passe!
If any stert vpon stray, strike hym to dethe,
Oure Cité to saue fro our sad fos!
I haue messangers with me, made for þe nonest,
Þat ffor perell or purpos shall pas vs betwene,
Bodword for to bryng, as we best lykys;—
All tythondys to tell, as tydis vs in fight,
How vs happys to haue, in hast shall ye wete.
And wysly bes ware waytys to þe towne,
On yche half forto hede, þat no harme fall,
Þat our fos with no faulshed in þe fyght tyme,
Sese not our Cité, our seluyn to pyne,
Ne rob not our ryches, ne our ryf godys.
Be ye wayt for þe wallis, warden of all,
And a post for all perellis youre pepull to saue,
As stuf of our strenkyth, yf we stond hard!”
Þen Priam to þe prinse prestly onswart:—
“Dere son, all be don, as þou demyt has!
I haue no hope of no halp, after hegh goddys,
But in stuf of þi strenkyght, & þi stythe arme;
In þi wyt, and þi warnes, & þi wyght dedys,
With þi gouernanse graythe, & þi gode rewle!
Þerfore, prestly I pray to oure pure sanctys,
Þat þai saue þe in sound, sent to þi hele;
Kepe þe fro cumbranse, & fro cold dethe;
And leue me þi lyf in lykyng to se!”
So þe lede toke leue, lut to hys fader,
Past furthe to hys pepull, & hys pas held.
He was wyght and wylfull, wysyst in batell,
Strongest in stour, sturnest of other;
Euer frike to þe fyght, fayntid he neuer.
Leder of þe ledys, þat longyt to Troy,
Hys armys were auenond, abill to fyght;
Hys feld was of fyn gold, freche to behold,
With þre lyons launchond, all of lyght goulys.
Þus he glod on hys gate, and hys gomys all,
With hys baners o brode, and þe burght past,
Penons & penselles, proud men of armys;
ffore euyn to þe feld, and hys ferys leuyt,
Prykyd furthe prestly, past on hys way!
Þof he lengyt to þe last, er he leue toke,
He was foundyn þe fyrst, þat in feld stroke,
And þe sonest in assembly in þe sad fyght.
All þe worshypfull wemen of þe wale toune
Wentyn to þe wallys, þe weghys to behold.
Þe kyngys doughter, bedene, droghin hom alofte,
With honerable Elan, þat arghit in hert;
Myche fere had þat fre, & full was of þoght,
All droupond in drede and in dol lengyt,
Þof Ector þe honerable had ordant hys folke,
And bateld hom bygly, on hys best wyse;
Vnder gouernanse graythe, all hys grym ost
In rewle and aray redy to fyght.