 | The Wars of Alexander |  |
Decimus septimus passus Alexandri.
Þen come a sande to þis sire in þe same tyme,Þat kyng porrus þe proud with pers out of ynde
Was in þe bonds of Batriane & eft had assemblid
Anoþire ost of odmen him eft on̄ to ride.
As hastely as he it herd his ostis he flittis,
And athils harnest on̄ hors a hundreth & fyfti
Was chosene to chiftans & all of chefe dukes,
Ordand of oure emperoure his ostis to lede.
Þus pas he furthe with his princes ser Porrus to mete,
In August eftir Iuli as þe boke tellis.
217
Sum in þaire harnais for hete was honest for euire.
Þai went be waldis & be wastis þar watirs ware nane,
And armed bud þam̄ all bee for angwischis o bestis,
As colwers & for coltris & crabbid snakis,
And oþire warlaȝes wild þat in þe wod duelled.
As ai stremand sternes stared all þaire wedis,
Of gai glitirand gold glesenyd þaire schildis.
Þai droȝe furth be dissert & drinkles þai spill,
Was nouthire waldis in þar walke ne watir to fynde.
A kniȝt þat zephall was callid fand in a cole schade
A litill drysnyng of dewe was droppid fra þe heuen,
Þat it was in a holoȝe stane & in his helme fillis,
And bringis it to oure bald kyng to brigge with his hetis.
Þan Alexander to þis athill all þus he spekis,
“Þis solayne sope if I sup̄ quethire sustene it may
Þe menbris of þe Messedones & of þe many Persens,
Or I my-selfe sall be serued & þai sitt with nyfils?”
“Sire, ȝe sall first be refreschid” faythly he sayd.
“Quat? & ȝe perisch?” quod þe prince “& pas out o lyue?
Queþir euir me list þan to lefe with langour & sorowe?”
And hilds it doun out of þe helme befor his athils all.
Þan̄ slike a comfurth þam enclosed for his kynd wordis,
As all þe watir of þe werd ware in þaire wambs hellid.
Þan ferd þai furth till a fflode & findis all þe strandis
Full of Redis, as I rede rughere þan thornes.
His folke fell to it fast & freschely þai drynke,
Bot was na renke at to it ran̄ at euire rase eftire.
It was so keruand & kene! þan was his kniȝtis stroubid
Mare for þe bale of þaire bestis & brist of þaim-selfe.
For with his florantis olifants him folowed a thousand,
Of sithid chariotis & soo & sextene hundreth,
With coȝrres & with clene floure camels and mules,
And out of nounbre of nowte at nedid to his ostis,
218
Be now þai ware so neȝe tane þat þai for nede supposid,
Sum of his awen̄ vryn̄ & sum on̄ Iren̄ lickid,
Þat it was sorowe any segge þe siȝt to be-hald!
Þan aires him on ser Alexander with angwischis & payne,
Ay foloȝe furth by þe flumme at I first tald,
And at þe aȝtand houre I ame, of þe day,
Þan comes þaim to a castell was closid in þe borne.
It was a mervalous mote made all of redis,
And foure forlange, I finde þe flode was o brede.
A fewe within þe forslet of folke þare a-perid,
Waiteand out at wyndows to wondire on his ostis.
Sire Alexander bad his men aske þaim of ynde,
And frayne quare þai find miȝt any fresch watir;
And þai þan̄ hent in þaire hedis & hidd þam belyue.
And he felly with flane flingis at þe wallis,
Ȝit for na spell at he spirid spek wald þai neuire.
And þan comandis he his kniȝt[is] kenely to swymme,
And þai all bare, saue þe breke with brandis in̄ hand,
Þan thringis in on a throw thretty & seuyn.
Als fast as þai þe forthing-dole had of þe flode past,
Þan girds þare vp fra þe ground & grymly þaim woundis
Of Seeles & of see-Bules a swyth grete nounbre,
Droȝe þam̄ doun in-to þe depe & drouned þam̄ for euire.
Þan̄ ȝede he þine with his erles & egirly him thristis;
Lebards lendis þaim agaynes leons & beres;
Dragons & dromondaris & of þir derfe Tigirs
Fra morne to þe mirke niȝt þaim maynly assailed.
Þus raȝt he fra þis reuir be many ruȝe waies
To it was meten to þe mere to myd-ouir-vndorne.
Þan come he streke on̄ a staunke þe store me tellis,
Was neuir na hony in na hyue vndire heuen swettir.
A foure furelange or fyue it was of full brede,
Umby-thorned with a thike wod thre mile a-boute,
219
And þat he cuttis doun clene & kindils in fyris.
He gert tild vp his tentis be þat terne syde,
Þoȝt þare a longe quile to lie & lachen his esee.
Þe mone ouir þe montayns meryly it schynes
Or he miȝt drinke any drope & þen his dole neȝes.
Þan comes þare-out creuesses of manykins hewis,
Scorpions þaim to scere & scalid neddirs,
And þai so large & so laith & so lowd schrikis,
Þat all þe soile of þa sidis of þe sound ryngis.
Dragons dryfes doun o driȝt fra þe derfe hillis,
With kene carefull crie and crestis on þaire hedis,
Grisely gapand & grim̄ with gilden brestis,
And flawmes feruent as fyre floȝe fra þaire eȝen;
Þai drewe toward oure douth with dedly blastis.
Sir Alexander & his ost was arȝed vnfaire,
Was þare na freke in þe fild þat faithly he leued
To be deuowrid & devoidid & vencuste for euire.
Þe kyng þan comfurthid his kniȝtis all if he care þoled:
“Mi bald baratours,” he bad “a-baste noȝt ȝoure hertis;
Seis ensampill at my-selfe & seke ȝe na ferre,
Bot hedis haly to my hand & harmes þar-eftire.”
A brand & a briȝt schild bremely he hentis,
Feȝtis freschely & fast with þa fell bestis,
Dasches dragons doun geuys þaim depe woundis,
Slaes of þa serpentis many sadd hundreth.
Þan bildid of his bachelers & braidis to þaire wapen̄;
If þai ware mased & amayd maynely þaim feȝt.
Ȝit was þar twenti þat time tangid to dede,
And þat þe comliest kniȝtis at þe kyng ledis;
Of athill archars als as þe buke tellis,
A-boute a thretty in þat thede tharned þaire lyfes.
Þus many deid of his douth as þe boke tellis,
And him limpis all þe loose be þe lattire end.
Now comes a company of Crabbe-fische as calues gret,
220
With backis, as þe buke sais biggir & hardere
Þan ony comon cogill-stane or cocatryse scales.
Quen̄ kniȝtis of oure conquirours kest at þam lances,
Was nane so wele-stelid poynt at þam̄ perse miȝte.
Bot gomes with þaire greues in twa in þe gledis spurned,
And all at left ware o lyue in-to þe loȝe entirs.
Be þai had fyneschid þis fiȝt was ferre in with euyn̄,
Foure houres full farne & þe fifte neghes.
And leons quyte as lylly lent þam̄ agayn̄,
Of bodis biggire þan bules berand vnfaire.
Oure kniȝtis at þe first come clenly þaim sloȝe,
Alto-bretind þaim on̄ bent & broȝt þaim on̄ fliȝt.
Wild berys in þe wast fra þe wodd comes,
With ilka tenefull tothe as tyndis of harowis,
A cubete lenth, sais þe clause cald was þe lest.
Þai seke out be sundres sexti to-gedire,
With wild men̄ of þe wast & women e-bland,
With sex handis, & soo sett out of kynd.
Þai held in hettirly & hurtis of his kniȝtis;
And þai with brandis & bowis bremely þaim woundis,
Sloȝe of þa sauagyus a sowme out of nombre,
And many scopid into þe scoghe without scath mare.
Sire Alexander & his ost angwisch enduris,
Was waik, as na wondre was & wery for-foȝten̄.
And þam he bedis at a braide to beet vp þe stank,
With-out his ost ouir all horrible fires.
Þan come a beste of a busche with a blak heued,
Mad & merkid as a Meere þe mast of þe werd,
Fere fersere þan an olifant as we find written̄,
Stayrand on to þe staunke þe stour to asaill.
Þis breme best bare as þe buke tellis,
Before forne in þe fronte thre fell tyndis,
221
Adanttrocay with all men̄ as I am enfourmed.
Before scho drank of þis dam his douth sho assaild,
And oure kyng with his carpe his kniȝtis he gladis.
Aȝt & tuenti men̄ of armes onone scho delyuird,
Bernes was diȝt þe deth with dintis enoghe.
Þan mys out of þis marras as any mayn̄ foxes
Come furth, & fedd þaim in-fere of þe ded corses.
All at was bitten of þa best was at a brunt dede,
Bot ȝit þai noyed bot a nykid to nane þat was ermed.
Þan floȝe þar by þe firmament of þa foule Backes,
Als store & as stalword as þire sedill dowis
With mekill maȝten teeth as it of men̄ ware;
And at vn-armed was þai asperly wondid,
Of sum þai nyppid fra þe nebb þe nose be þe eȝen,
Of sum þai ete of þaire eris euen by þe rotis,
Sum þai luggid of þe lippis þe lire fra þe chekis,
Bot þar bitis, as þe buke sais blemest na kniȝtis.
Þan come a fliȝtir in of fowls as fast as it dawid,
To vise on as vowtres as vermeon̄ hewid,
Þaire boukis & þar bathire fete was of blak sable,
And did bot plaid by þe pepill & fed þaim on fyschis.
Quen̄ he had voidid þis vermyn̄ & vencust þat of ynde,
Out of þis perlaous place he past with his ost
In-to the boundis of Bactry þar bildid he his tentis.
Þare reches was of redde gold & many riche gemes;
And clene all þat contre qwen þai his come wist,
Þai mett him full manerly & mekely resayued
With presentes of pirre & many proude giftes,
And thretti dayis in þat thede he tholes & abidis.
A sertane folke was in þat soile þat Serres ere callid,
And all þe lyndis in þat land with leves as wolle.
And so þire Serres, at I said þaim in þe Somere gedirs,
And makis þaim wedis þar-of to were for wintris blastis.
222
Of þe conquest of þire cocatrices & of þa kene bestis;
And now he caire[s] fra þat kithe & comes in a stounde
Quare Porrus with his powere on̄ a playn̄ lengis.
Sire Alexander & his ost caires þaim a-gayne
With brade baners & briȝt & bragging of troumpis.
Apon þe bald bocifalon̄ before his men̄ all
He flingis out a forelange his feris to assaile.
Þe Persens putt þaim in pres & þe proude grekis;
Þe Medis & þe Messedons maynely þai feȝt,
Þai swey doun as swiftly þa swart men of ynde,
As euire did corne in a croft be-fore a kene sithe.
Quen sir Porrus saȝe his princes in þe prese faile,
Þan aires he out be-for his ost on̄ Alexander callis:
“It comes,” he said, “to na kyng ne kidd emperoure
To latt his pepill þus pas & perisch in ydill;
It fallis mare faire him þe fiȝt to fynesch him-selfe.
Forþi lat stedill all oure stoure & stedd þam̄ esoundire,
Þi semble o þe taa syde & myne on̄ þe tothire;
Lat vs twa termyn þe taite be-twene vs alane.
If I be vencust in þe vaile & voidid of my lyfe,
Lat all my seggis & soile be to þi-selfe ȝolden̄;
And if þou failis in þe fild & I þe floure wynn̄,
Latt þan̄ þine erlis & þine erd myne empire obeyi.”
Thus porrus in his hiȝe pride to oure kyng spekis,
For he was litill & laghe him laythly dispices.
For quen̄ he wan̄ to wax þe writt me recordis,
Thre cubettis fra þe croune doun his cors had a lenghte.
Þe person̄ of ser Porrus past him þat hiȝt twyse,
He feetis him forth in his force & in his faire hiȝte.
Bot þe prowis & þe prouidens & of þe pure thewis
Þat lurkis with-in þis lede full litill he kennes.
Now is þe partise in pes & þai þe place dele;
Aithire kyng with his cause encontres on̄ othire.
223
So snelle at he snatirs with nere snaypid him for euire.
Þan kastis vp a kene crie þe kniȝtis out of ynde,
For he was dased of þe dint & half dede him semyd.
Porrus, as a prince suld persayued þar latis,
Turnes him toward his tulkis & titely rehetis.
Sire Alexander him avises & his aande takis,
As bald barratour & breme his brand vp he liftis,
With bathe his handis in-to þe brayne his basenet he cleuys,
And he fallis doun fey & fynes in þat stound.
Þe pepill of ser Porrus quen þai [him] pas saȝe,
With all manere of men maynly þai fiȝt.
“A! wriches!” quod þe wale kyng & wisely he spekis,
“Eftir þe deth of ȝour duke quat deynes ȝowe to stryue?
Wete ȝe wele,” quod þe wee “be werrayours laȝes,
Þat quen̄ þe gouernoure is gane þan̄ is gomes wastid.”
“Sire, it is better for to bate & on̄ þe bent faile,
Þan se þis rewthe on̄ ȝour renkis & reft be ȝour gudis.”
“Sirs, blynes of ȝour bataile & bowes to ȝoure landis;
Ȝoure fermes & ȝoure fraunches I frely ȝow grant;
For ȝe haue cockid for ȝour kyng ȝe sall no care suffire!”
And þan callid him on̄ knese & kest doun þaire armes.
Þai come to þis conquirour comend him as driȝtin,
Þan sett he sales vp of silke & sacrifece makis.
Sire Porrus, as him wele fell he proudely enteris,
And all þe fey in̄ þe fild & here a fitt ende.
| The Wars of Alexander | |