University of Virginia Library

“Sire dere Darius on dese þe digne Emperoure,
Þe kyng without comparrison of kyngis all othire,
Of all lordis þe lord þat leues in erthe,
Predicessour of princes & peree to þe sonn̄,
Þe souerayne sire of my soyle þat sittis in my trone,
In fang with my faire godis þat I affie maste,
To Alexander, þat of all so augrily him letes,
Oure subiet & oure seruand þus we oure-selfe write.
For it is wayued vs to wete þat wickidly þou haues,
Þurȝe enmyte & enuy elacion of pride,
Be vanyte & vayne glori þat in þi wayns kindlis,
Puruayd þe pletours oure partis to ride.
For þou has samed, as men he sais a selly nounbre
Of wrichis & wirlingis out of þe west endis,
Of laddis & of losengers & of litill theuys,
Slike sary soroȝis as þi-selfe to seke vs agaynes,
And wenes to wild all þi will & þat worthis ful late,
Þe prouynce & principalte of Persye la graunt.
For þou ert fere al to faynt oure force to ministere;
Þof þou had gedird all þe gomes þat euire god fourmed,
So, man, riued is oure rewme þat þou may reȝt lycken
Þe store strenthe of oure stoure to sternes of þe heuen.
And slike a nekard as þi-selfe a noȝt of all othire,
Is bot a madding to mell with mare þan him-seluen.
Forthi is bettir vnbynd & of þe brathe leue,
And feyne all with fairnes & fayne at þou may.
For mare menseke is a man to meke him be tyme,
Þan eftir made to be meke malegreue his chekis.
For all þe gracious godis & gudnes on̄ erthe,
Þat sanys sete & soile & sustaynes þe erth,
Prayses ay þe Persyns passing all othire,
And for þe oddiste of ilka ost honoures oure name.
And slike a dwinyng, a dwaȝe & a dwerȝe as þi-selfe,
A grub, a grege out of grace ane erd-growyn̄ sorowe,
Will couet ȝit as a king with caytefes to lyte,
To couir at combrid all þe kyngis vndire þe cape of heuen!
Riȝt as a flaw of fell snawe ware fallyn̄ of a ryft,
Of a wysti wonn̄ waghe with þe wynd blawen,
So with a flote of Fresons folowand þi helis,
Þou sekis fraward Sichim þi-selfe wrothir-haile,
And leuys as a lorell þus oure lande to entire,
And maa þi lepis & þi laikis & quat þe liste ellis,
As ratons or ruȝe myse in a rowme chambre,
Aboute in beddis or in bernys þare baddis ere nane.
Bot I haue wilily waited þi wiles & þi castis,
And quen þou hopis all-þir hiest to haue all þar will,
I sall þe sett on̄ a saute & sla þe [with] my handis.
And so sall, fole, for þi folez be fenyshit on dawes.
For-þi for pompe or for pride þi purpose a-vise,
For yf þou shote ouer sheet þou shendes þi flayne.
Turne þe, trechoure, be-time þat þou na treson haue,
And drawe a-gayn̄ to þi den̄ vndire þi dam wyngis.
Se quat I send to þe, son̄ þi-selfe with to laike,
A hatt & a hand-ball & a herne-panne;
Slike presandis to play with as pertines to babbis.
For ai a child mot him chese to childire geris;
For mestire & miserie vnneth may þou forthe
Þine awen caitefe cors to clethe & to fede,
And supposis as a sott to sese oure landis,
And outhire darius to drepe or dryfe fra his kythis!
Bot by þe grace & þe gude þat god gaue my fadire,
So riued is þe rede gold oure regions with-in,
Þat qua sa had it on a hepe haly to-gedire,
It wald vs let, as I leue þe liȝt of þe son̄!
For-þi bid I þe badrich on bathe twa þine eȝen,
And on̄ þe plegg & þe payn̄ & perill as folowis,
All þi vanyte to voide & þi vayne pride,
And mew agayn̄ to Messedone or any mare fall.
For be þe saule of my sire bot if þou sone turne,
We sall þe send sike a soume of segis en-armed,
Noȝt as Philips fant salle fare with þi-selfe,
Bot as a prince of proued theues pyne þe to dede.”
Als sone as his sandismen to þis sire come,
Þai present him þe playntis þe pistill him rechis,
And Alexander belyue be-fore all his princes,
To all his ost euyn̄ on̄ he openly declaris.
And quen his kniȝtis of þis clause þe carpe vndirstode,
Þen ware þai frekly a-frayd of þe fell saȝes;
And as sone as him-selfe saȝe his seggis amoued,
In bilding of his bachelers he breuys þire wordis:
“Quat now? my worthi werriouris sa wiȝt & sa noble,
Mi bernes & my baratours þe best vndire heuen;
Lettis neuire it broȝt be on̄ brade for vpbraide of schame,
Ȝe doute for þe indityngs of Darius pistils.
I sett ȝowe ane ensample ȝe se it all daye,
In thorps & in many thede þar ȝe þurȝe ride,
At ilka cote a kene curre as he þe chache wald;
Bot as bremely as he baies he bitis neuir þe fastir.
Bot in sum̄, I suppose wele þat sothe is þe lettir,
Þare as he tellis quyche a tunne of tresoure he hauys.
For-þi vs buse to be bigg & bataill him ȝeld,
Þe grete garisons of gold sall gedire vp oure hertis.”
With þat comands þe kyng his knyȝtis be-lyue,
Þe donesmen þat fra Darius come with þe derfe lettir,
Þat þai suld titly þam take & by þe toȝe throtis,
And for þaire souerayne sake þam send to þe galawis.
Þan was þa messangers a-maied as mervale ware ellis,
With kene carefull crie þis conquirour þai said:
“Allas! quat lake lyse in vs lord if it be ȝoure will,
Þus causeles for oure kynge encumbird to worthe?”
“The saȝes of ȝour souerayn̄” said þe kynge þen̄,
“Nedis me to slike notis as I had neuer etlid,
Þat has ȝow sent to my-selfe noȝt sa as him aȝe;
Loo ‘litill thefe’ in ilka lyne his lettir me callis.”
“Ȝa,” quod þai, “comly kyng” & on̄ knes fallis,
“Þase ditis endited to ȝowe sir Darius him seluyn̄,
For he knew noȝt of ȝour kniȝthede ne of ȝour kid strenth;
Ne wist noȝt of ȝour worthenes & wrate all þe baldire.
Bot wald ȝe grant vs to gaa & gefe vs ȝour lefe,
Þen suld we bremely ȝour bill to þe berne shewe.”
Þen lete þe lord þam̄ allane & went till his fest,
Takis þam̄ with him to his tent & þam̄ at ese makis.
Sone as þai in his sale were sett at þe table,
“Sire Alexander, athill kyng” quod all with a steuyn̄,
“Comands with vs to caire kniȝtis a thousand,
And we sall surely oure sire þe send in þaire handis.”
“Ȝa, make we blis,” quod þe kyng “blithe mote ȝe worthe,
For as for takynge of ȝour lord sall na lede wynde.”
To Darius anoþir day enditis he a pistill,
A crest clenly inclosid þat consayued þis wordis.
Alexander, þe aire & eldest childe bathe
Of kyng Philip þe fers þe fendere of grece,
And als of Olimpades þat honurable lady,
To þe, Darius, on̄ dese þus dite I my lettir.
Þou prince of all þe Persyns þat peres to þe sonne,
Þe conquirour of ilka cost callid of þi-selfe,
With all þi gracious godis graithid in̄ þi trone,
All þus I send to ȝowe I my sawe vndir my sele wreten̄.
Sire, if we se with a suth surely me thinke,
Oure facultes, oure faire fees oure fermes & our landis,
We may noȝt chalang þam̄ ne clayme ne call þaim oure awen,
Bot all I deme it as det & to a day borowid.
For sen we riden on þe rime & on̄ þe ringe seten̄
Of þe qwele of Fortoun, þe quene þat swiftly changis,
Ofte pas we in pouert fra plente of gudis,
Fra mirthe in-to mournyng fra mournyng in-to Ioye.
For now vs wantis in a qwirre as þe quele turnes;
Quen̄ we suppose in oure sele to sit alþir heist,
Þan̄ fondis furth dame Fortoun to þe flode-ȝatis,
Draȝes vp þe damme-borde & drenchis vs euire.
For-þi a we þat has wit þofe he wele suffir,
So sadly in soueraynete he set neuire his hope
For pride of na pro[s]perite ne prise at him̄ folewis,
To olle ay on̄ his vndireling for ouer-laike a quyle.
For any sele vndire son a sott I him hald,
Þat ay has deyne & dispite at dedis of litill,
Sen oft þe hauenlest here is houen to þe sternes,
And he þat graithist is of gudis gird all to poudire.
For-þi a depe dishonoure ȝe do to ȝoure name,
Ane emperoure þat on̄ erth is euyn̄ to ȝoure-selfe,
To me sa litill & sa lawe slike lettirs to sende,
And presand out of Persy bot for a pure hethyng.
For þou enherestis all þis erth & euens to þe son̄,
And callis þe kyng of ilka kithe vndir þe cape of heuen,
And þarto sittis, as þou sais in sege as ane Aungell,
To-gedire with þi grete gods and on̄ a gilt trone.
Bot syn gostid godesses & gods ere graythid neuir to dye,
Bot ai sall last furth elike on̄-lyue ouire mare,
Þai naue no will to my notis ne wilnyng to haue,
No dole ne no daliance of dedely bernes.
Bot I knaw I am coruptible & caire ȝow agaynes,
Als with a dedly duke to do my bataill;
Bot þof þou þe victor a-vaile na vaunte sall arise,
Ne lose, bot as a litill thefe ȝow limpid to encumbre.
Bot chance it me, þat am a childe þe cheuer to worthe,
So þat be geuyn me þe gree grete glorie is myn awen̄.
For þan sall spring vp þe speche & sprede out of mynd,
How I haue conquired a kyng þe kidest of þe werd.
Bot a tale ȝe me tald I trow be na faile,
Of þe ryfenes of þe rede gold ȝour region̄ with-in̄,
Quilke plente is in Persy of perell & of ellis,
Þe somme of siluer & of siche & of sere stanes,
Þare-with oure wittes has þou wele & oure will sharpid,
And blid with þi besands þe bataill to ȝeld,
Made vs corageous & kene ȝoure clere gold to wyn̄,
And put a-way oure pouert ȝe plede vs to hald.
Bot as touchand þe trufils þat ȝe to me sent,
Þe herne-pan, þe hand-ball þe hatt made of twiggis,
Þare has þou prophesid apert & playnely vs schewid,
And faire affirmed vs before þat sall fall eftir.
For by þe ball, sir, I breue all þe brode werd,
Þe erthe at to myne enpire enterely bees ȝolden.
And be þe hat, þat is holewe be-for þe heued bowed,
I constru þat ilka kyng sall clyne to my-selfe.
Þan hope I by þe hernepan̄ þat þe hede couirs,
Ouir-comers to be callid & ouire-comen neuire.
Now þou, þe grettest vndir god graithis me trouage,
With all þis dignites be-dene þat I diuined haue.”
Þis brefe bedis þaim him bere & besands þam rechis;
And eftir armes all his ost & airis on̄ eftir forthire.
Sire Darius for þe ditis nere died he for angire,
To twa of þe derrest of his dukis ditis he þis pistill:
“I, þe corounnest kyng of kyngis all othire,
To þe, sir primus, a prince of Persye þe grettest,
And als to ser Antagoyne myn̄ awen̄ athill dukis,
Þe soueraynest of my seniourie my saroparis hatten,
Se here I send ȝow my seele with salutis of ioye.
Fra Alexander þe kyng as I am in-fourmed,
Is entrid with oure enmys an̄ endles nounbre,
Þe Anglies of Asie & has þam̄ all stroyed,
For-þi of life & o lym my lege men I charge
To prestli ȝow apparaill & pas þam agaynes,
With all þe hathils & þe heris & þe hiȝe maistris
Þat ȝe may semble in þe sidis saudiours & othire.
Þen chese ȝow furth my chiftanes & me þe child take,
Laches me þis losengere & ledis me him hedire,
Þat I may him skelp with a skorge & þen of skire porpure
A side slauyn him̄ sewe & send him to his modire;
For now he proches for pride & propurly he wedis,
For-þi him bose to be bett as a barne fallis.
For it aȝe noȝt slik ane Asald nane abletus to off werres,
Bot at þe bowlis as a brode or with a ball playe.”
Þire princes, sone as þe pistill was put þam̄ in hand,
Þan part þai þe proud sele þe printe þai adhoured,
Vn-lappis liȝtly þe lefe & þe line redes,
And þus-gate agynward þai graithid him anothire.
“To þe kiddest kyng to a-count of kyngis all othire,
Sire Dari, with þi dere godis drised on̄ þi trone,
Gouernoure of ilk a gome & god all þi-selfe,
Þi satrapairs, þi seniours with seruage obeschen̄:
Sire, wetis it wele, ȝoure worthines & wenys it na langire,
Þat þis child, with his chiftans þat ȝe charge vs to take,
Has reden all oure regions & raymed oure landis,
Departid all oure prouynce & purely it wastid.
And we þan lift vp a lite & lent him a-gayne,
Ferd furth with a flote & him in þe fyld metis;
Bot sone we bed him þe bake & besely we shapid
Out of þe handis vn-hewyn̄ of oure hatill fais.
And now haly all þe hepe at ȝe ȝoure help callis,
Vn-to ȝoure mekill maieste we mekely beseke,
Þat vs ȝour lege & ȝoure lele men̄ it likid ȝow to forthire,
Or þan̄ oure wirschip̄ at-wynde & wastid be þe regme.”
As radly as þe riche kyng had red ouir þis pistill,
Be þat mevis in A Messangere & maynly him tellis,
Þat Alexander was at hand & had his ost loygid
A-pon̄ þe streme of Struma þat strekis þurȝe his landis.
Sire Darius for þa ditis was depely a-greuyd,
Callis him his consail a clause he him enditis,
Mas a brefe at a braide & it in brathe sendis,
To Alexander as be-lyue & all þus him gretes.

“I, sir Dari, þe deyne & derfe Emperoure,
Þe kyng of kyngis I am callid & conquirour bathe,
Of all lordis þe lord a-lose þurȝe þe werd,
And ane of þe souerayne sires vndir þe vij sternes,
To þe, my seruand, I send & suthely þou knawes,
And wete þou wele þurȝe all þe werde is wirschip oure name.
For all þe gracious gods at þe ground visitis,
All ere done me to doute ducsses & othire.
How burde þe þan be sa bald for blod in þi heued,
To moue þus ouir þe mountey[n]s & ouir þe many watirs
With slike a soumme ouir þe see a saute vs to ȝeld,
Or any maistrie to make my maieste a-gayne?
For wella wide ware þe wele wete þou na nothire,
Bathe þi glorie & þi grace þi gladnes in erthe,
Miȝt þou þe marches of Messedoyne mayntene þi-selfe,
And gouerne bot þine awen̄ gronde agaynes oure will.
For-þi ware bettir vnbynde or þou bale suffire,
Remowe agayne to þi rewme & rew of þi werkis.
For certayne, nyf my seniourie ne I my-selfe nouthire,
All þe werd myȝt a wedowe wele þan̄ be callid.
For-þi turne þe be-time or any tene worthe,
Or at þe hate of my hert a-pon̄ þi hede kindill.
Lend agayn̄ to þi lande nowe quen þou leue hauys,
Þat I mete þe in my malicoly my meth be to littill.
For-þi to ken̄ þe to knaw my kyndnes here-eftir,
Bath my grace & my glori & my grete strenthe,
Loo here a gloue full of graynes I graythe þe to take,
Of þe chesses of a chesboll chosen for þe nanys.
For may þou sowme me þire sedis surely þou trowe,
Þou miȝt a-count all oure kniȝtis & oure kyd ostis;
And þou truches þaim to tell þen tidis þe na noþir,
Bot move a-gayn̄ to Messedone & meve þe na forthire.
Fyne, fole, of þi fare & fange to þi kythis;
For þis sede I þe send vnsowmyd bees neuire.
So ere we of all folke folke to be nombrid,
Or any wee to a-counte vndire þe clere sternys.”
Now aires furth his athill men̄ to Alexander wendis,
Vn-to þe streme of struma streȝt with þa lettirs,
And he þam̄ redis in a rese & reches to þe sedis,
Tastis þam̄ vndire his tuthe & talkis þir wordis:
“Here I se,” quod þis sire “be þire ilke cornes,
Þat þe pupill out of Persy ere passandly many,
Bot þam̄ semes to be softe as þir sedis prouys;
For-þi how fele be all þe flote it forces bot littill.”
Be þis was men̄ of Messedone fra his modire comen,
And said þat semely was seke & semed to die;
And he þe waest of þe werd wald worth hire to visite,
Bot ȝit to Dary, or he went he diȝt þus a lettir.