University of Virginia Library

Now has ser Darie þe derfe of dukis & princes
Heued vp a hoge ost & fyue hundreth kniȝtis
Ere chosen to chiftans & chargid þaim to lede;
Trottis him on̄ to Tigre & þare his tentis settis;
Þan̄ mett þai on þe oþire morne with a mekill nombre,
Sire Alexander þe hathill armed on̄ blonkis.
Þe multitude ware to me meruaile to reken̄,
Þat sammed was on̄ aiþir side many sadd thousand.
Now ere þe baners out-bred & þe bate neȝis,
Blew bemys of bras buskis to-gedire,
Þe crie of þe clarions þe cloudis it persyd;
For þe dewt of þe dyn daunced stedis.
Bathe þe twa batails bremely assemblis,
And aithire segg with his sowme soȝt vn-to othire.
Kniȝtis on̄ cursours kest þan in fewtire,
Taches in-to targetis tamed þaire brenys.
Þare was stomling of stedis sticking of erles,
Sharpe schudering of schote schering of mailes,
So stalworthly within a stond sterid þaim þe grekis,
Þat of þe barb[r]yne blod all þe fild flowis.
Sone as ser Darie þe deth of his douth sees,
Þe pite of þe Persens him prickis in his saule,
Sees his meneȝe so mynesch & his men fangid,
A few þat fresch ware vndefoulid & to þe fliȝt tournes.
Ȝit was ane of his ost ane odd man̄ of strenth,
A burly berne & a bald as þe buke tellis,
A segg at he ensurid had to sese him his doȝtir,
If he miȝt sla with any sleȝt þe seniour of grece.
He cled him all in clene stele a conyschaunce ouire,
Þat made was & merkid on̄ þe messedone armes,
Aires him to ser Alexander in all-þir-mast puple,
As he a hathill ware of his behind him he stelis,
A briȝt brynnand brand he braidis out of shethe,
And þurȝe-out þe helme in-to þe hede he hurt him a littill.
And þe kniȝtis of oure cost as þai þe cas saȝe,
Þan fange þai þis ilk freke & be-fore þe kyng bryngis.
“Quat now? my worthi werreours?” þe wale kyng said,
He wend wele at he ware a wee of his awen̄,
“Qui has þou brest so my brayn̄ & with a brand wondid
Ȝour sekire seruant in same all were I sire callid,
All ware I halden as for hede ȝour helpere at nede?”
“Nay, hope ȝe neuire,” quod þe hathif “ser hiȝe emperoure,
Me any Messedone to be þou ames of þine awen̄,
Bot of cruell kind comen of barbres.
And þis I did for ser Darius his doȝtir me hiȝt,
And cordid on̄ þis condicion to couple hire to wyfe,
And he went out of þe werd to wild all his regne,
To hew þi hede fra þi hals & anys it him shewe.”
Þan̄ callis oure kyng him his kniȝtis þaire consaile to frayn̄,
“Quat sall be done him for þis dede?” & þai bedene sware,
Sum, at he hangid suld be hiȝe sum þe hede priued,
Sum bedis in a bale-fire brin him to poudire.
“Quat has he fauted?” quod þe frek “þof he him forced haue
Þe charges of his chiftan chefely to fill?
He þat him demes to þe dede he dampnes him-selfe,
And diȝtis him his awen dome & þat dare I proue.
For demed I any of my douth ser darye to spill,
As ȝe þis gentill man enioyne suld him be iugid þen̄.”
He latis þe Persyn in pesse pas with his hele,
Mekill for his mayn̄ strenth & for his miȝt praysed.
As sone as Darye þe derfe of þis dede heris,
Þat he was sauyd vnslayne he semblis his knyȝtis,
Vp to a miȝti montayne his men þaire he schewis,
And gessis him wele þare to degrayd þe grekis maistir.
Þan̄ fandis he furth in-to þe fild & fled als beliue,
And Alexander with his ost him asperly folowed
Riȝt to þe bu[r]ȝe of Batran & bildid þare his tentis,
Mas him glad with his ginge & to his godis offirs.
Þe cite þan he assailid & sesid on̄ þe morne,
With all þe burȝes þare a-boute & busked þare his sete.
Þare fand he tresour vntald & als þe trew spouse
Of ser Dary, bath his dame & all his dere childire.
Now dose him fra Darius a dereworth prince,
Aires to ser Alexander adoures him lawe,
“I haue erdid with ȝoure enmy ser emperoure,” he said,
“As soiet serued haue I þat sire many sere wyntir;
And all my trauaill I tint for tuke I no gudes.
Bot wald it now ȝour worthines to wend with my-selfe,
A ten Mille vs take of tulkis enarmed,
I sall ȝow hete in ȝoure hand to haue at ȝoure will
Sire Dary, with þe mast dole of his derfe erles.”
“Nay, leue, lat ane,” quod þe lord “þen leue I no straungers,
Þat þou be willi in þi witt to werray þine awen̄,
Ne tell þou me noȝt þat tale I trow noȝt þi wordis.”
Be þis ser Dary fro his dukis deuysid his pistill:
Þe kyng of kyngs was callid & clere god bathe,
Þus, vndirstand I, was þe stile & stiȝt in þare-eftir:
“Ȝour satrapaires, ȝour seruant with seruand obeschen;
Sire, we haue wayued to ȝow writtis ȝit write we þe same,
How þis maistir of Messedone has on oure marchis entrid,
Brynd vp oure biggingis bretted oure kniȝtis,
And we ouire-sett be to sare to suffire any langire.
For-þi ȝour dignite bydene we drerily be-seke,
A-gayns þe force of oure faa vs forthire a quile.”
Quen̄ he had red all þe rawis for rancour he swellis,
And out on̄-ane to Alexander all þus he writis.
“I, Dary, with þe dignite þe diademe of Persee,
Of all þe kyngis þe kyng þat corouned was euire,
To þe, my seruand, I say as me was sent late,
How þi lawnes & þi litillaike þou lickyns to my hiȝt.
Bot parde, þi prouidence inpossible it semes,
A heuy As to be houyn vp to þe sternes,
A thing threuyn̄ is & thike & þarnes þe wyngis,
And fautis þe fethirhames & þe fliȝt-loomes.
For-þi þi mynd neuir þe mare lat mounte in-to pride
For chance of na cheualry þat þou a-cheued hase.
For vertu ne no victori ne vant noght þi-selfe;
He þat enhansis him to heȝe þe heldire he declynes.
I haue herd of þi hendlaike of heraudis & of othire,
Of þi noblay now o newe time a-nentes my modire.
Bathe to my wyfe & to my barnes quat bounte þou shewis,
Quat curtassy & kyndlaike I ken alto-gedire.
Bot surely all þe seson̄ þat þou þam̄ so pleses,
Þou fangis me neuire to þi frynd fyne quen þe likis.
And if þou wirke þaim all þe wa & wrak at þou may,
Þe mare vnfryndschip þarfore fall sall þe neuire;
For-þi to put þam to pyne I pray þe noȝt wande,
For myn̄ angire on þine arrogance sall at þe last kindill.”
Þarfor do þou þi best god forbyd þou spare.”
Quen he had lokid ouir þe lines he laȝes at his wordis,
And ditis agayn to ser Dary þis dete þat foloȝes:

“I, Alexander, þe eldest & all myne ane
Of kyng Ph[ilip] & his fere þat frely lady,
Honourd Olimpades þat anely me fosterd,
To þe kyng of Persy þis prolouge I write:
Sire, vanite & vayne-glori & vices of pride
Þa ere þe gaudis, as I gesse þat all gods hatis,
And ilka dedly douth þai driffe þam̄ to punesch,
Þat has driȝten of vndedlynes draȝen þaim to name.
Þis similitude to þi-selfe I say all-to-gedire,
Þat a-suris so in þi surquitry & sesis neuire-mare
To bost ne to blasfeme blyn will þou nouthire.
Bot for þi gold & þi gudis a god þou þe makis,
Þou vp-braydis me for þe beute þat I þi blod schewid,
As to þi modire I mene & to þi mery childir,
Þare mas þou þe to malicole & meenes for litill.
I wroȝt it noþire for þi will ne for þi wale threte.
If I kid þam̄ curtassy it come fra my-selfe,
Haly of oure awen̄ hert & of oure hynd thewis;
Ne we prid vs for na prouwis predestayned we ere,
Oure gods gayn̄ vs þare-to þat gretly þou spises.
Latt now þis lettre be þe last & loke to þi-selfe,
For sekire & on̄ my surement I seke ȝow agayn̄s.”
Þis brefe he bedis þam to bere þat broȝt him þe toþire,
And takis þam̄ of his tresoure & twynnes with þaim faire.
Quen þai to Persy ware past a pistill he enfourmes,
Wrate a writt of his will so sendis to his princes,
His seruandis & his seneschalls out of sere rewmes,
And þus comandis he þam clene þe kyng his stile.

“I, Alexander, þat as aire avaunced is in grece,
Þe son̄ of Ph[ilip] þe fers as I first tald,
And als of Olimpades myne honurable modire,
Þus send I to my satraparis my princes & my dukes,
My pers out of siphagoyne salutis & grace,
Of þe sele of Surry my seggis & myn̄ erles,
My kniȝtis out of Capados & all my kid lordis,
Þe ledis out of Landace & all þe landis out-by.
I comand ȝow on̄ þe clere faithe þat ȝe my croune aȝe,
Þat belyue to Alysaundire þat is myn̄ awen cite,
Þat ilkane of ȝow send be your-selfe of sere slayn̄ bestis,
Of fresch & of fyne wroȝt fellis a thousand,
Sum grayne to be neþire gloues graythid to my kniȝtis,
Sum pured pelloure depurid to put in oure wedis,
Lat kest þam̄ apon̄ camels þat in þat kith lengis,
And aires with þaim to Eufraten þis erand haues in mynd.”
Þan was a man̄, as me mynes in þe morne-qwile,
Was of ser Daris a duke þe derfe Emperoure,
Ane þat Nostanda was named & a noble prince,
Þat certified his souerane þir saȝes in a pistill:

“Sire Dari, duke of ilk a douth & driȝten þi-selfe,
Þe grete glorius god graythid in þi trone,
Nostanday, to ȝour nobilnes þat ay my nek bowis,
With seruage to ȝour senurie my-selfe I comand.
It semed noȝt ȝoure seruand sire, vndistreyned
Vn-to ȝour mekill maieste þis mater to write,
Bot I am depely distressid þis dede for to wirke,
And made þis myscheffe to myn̄ malegrefe my chekis.
For wete it wele ȝour worthines þat of our wale princes
Twa of þe tethiest ere tint & termynd of lyue,
Þat lost was now þe last day a litill fra Tygre,
In batail apon̄ bent fild in-bland with þe grekis.
Þare was I gird to þe grond & greuously woundid,
Vnnethe it cheuyd me þat chance to chape to þe fliȝt;
And oþire many of oure men̄ miȝtfull kniȝtis,
And erlis of all ȝour empire enterely deuydid,
Ȝoure lore & ȝour legaunce lethirly forsaken,
Aires þaim to ser Alexander & on-ane ȝeldis.
And he þaim faire vndirfange enfeffid þaim belyue,
In palais, in prouince in principall regnes.”
Þen to Nostanda on̄ next þus notis he a lettir,
Þat he suld semple him a sowme & set þaim agaynes.
Anothire pistill lete he pas to Porrus of ynde,
To come & helpe with his here & he him þus swaris:

“I, Porrus, þat possessid am þe partyse of yynde,
And am þe coron̄ be kynd of clene all þat Iles,
Sire Dary, with þi dyademe drest on̄ þi trone,
To þe þat salutis I send þe sele of myn̄ armes.
Þou prayes vn-to my person̄ my powere to sempble,
And ȝow enforce with my folke ȝour faes to withstand;
And I am boun̄ at ȝour bode & buxsom̄ was euire,
To heȝe & to help̄ ȝour hest quen I my hele lastis.
Bot now a langour me lettis þat I laȝt haue,
Slike a seknes for-sothe is on̄ my-selfe halden̄,
Þat I ne may streyne me ne stere for stondis so hard,
Bot lyse in langwysches & lokis quen̄ my lyfe endis.
And as warysche I my warke þat I am in wonden̄,
As me is wa for þi woȝe & þi wrange bathe,
I may noȝt ryde ȝow to reschow my reuthe is þe mare.
Bot I sall leue & be lechid for-þi be liȝt-hertid;
And I be couird of my coth care for na grekis,
Amay þe for na Messedoynes ne men̄ vndire heuen;
For I sall hele all in hast & hale to ȝoure kythis
With ten legions at þe last & all of lele knyȝtis.”
Be þis Rodogars þe riche þat renewid lady,
Þe dere dame of Dari of þis dede heris,
Þat hire awen child with Alexander amed eft to feȝt,
And sorowis selcuthly sare & sendis him a pistill;

“To kyng dary þe derfe þe derrest of my childire,
Rodogoras þe riche quene” þis rauth scho him writis:
“Bald baratour on bent borne of my bosom̄,
Here send I þe, my swete salutis & ioy.
Þou has heuyd vp þi huge ost as I haue herd tell,
Samed all þi saudiours & semblid þi pupill,
And etils to ser Alexander eft to assaill.
Wete þou wele it is noȝt worthe ware þe be tyme;
For had þou gedird all þe gomes I gesse, of þe werd,
Ȝit to with-stand him a stonde þi strenthe ware to littill.
For godis prouidence apert ay prestly him helpis,
Sauys & sustenes him-selfe & socurs him euire.
For-þi hoo with þi hautes & þine vnhemed wittis,
A-vaile of þi vanite & of þi vayne pride,
Obey þe to þe baratour þe best I con̄ rede;
Magnifie him with þi mouthe & meke þi hert,
For any hathill vndire heuen̄ þat at he ne hade may,
Mare sekire it ware him to forsake þen sewe any forthire;
In pese & in pacience possede at he miȝt,
[Þan] Be excludit out of his erd & euire-mare duell.”
Sir Dary for þoo dytez was deply disessyd;
Quen he þis rawis had rede he rewfully wepid,
His eldirs & his ancestris als he remembris;
Þoȝt how pride þaim depriued: & here a passe ende.