University of Virginia Library

Vicesimus tertius passus Alexandri.

Þen aires furth ser Alexander in-to þis athill temple,
With Caulus & with cleopas & othire kidd princes,
And fand a berne in a bedd bawnand alane,
Ane of þe graciousest gomes þat euire god fourmed.
All lemed of his letere þe loge as of heuen̄,
For it was gayly begane with golden̄ webbis.
A blewe bleaut o-bofe brad him al ouire,
Was browde all with brent gold full of briȝt aungels.
Þe testre trased full of trones with trimballand wingis;
Þe silloure full of Seraphens & othire sere halows,
With curtyns all of clene silke & coddis of þe same,
With cumly knottis & with koyntis & knopis of perle.
It ware to tere me to tell þe tirement to-gedire,
Or a nany clerke þe cost to de-vise;
And he þat ristis in þat rowme þe romance it tellis,
Was ane of þe borliest bernes þat euire body hade,
With fell face as þe fire & ferly faire schapen̄,
Balgh brade in þe brest & on þe bely sklendire.
His cheuelere as chauele for changing of eld,
And as blaȝt was his berd as any briȝt snaw.
Sone as oure prince with his peris his person̄ avyses,
He gesse him wele to be god & of na gome kind.
He knelis doun with his kniȝtis on þe cald erthe,
With haile him hailsis on̄ heȝe & oþir hend wordis.
Þe renke within þe redell þan raxsils his armes,
Rymed him full renyschly & rekind þir wordis:
“Haile, Alexander!” quod þis athill “at all þe erth weldis,
Þou ert welcum, I-wis & all þi wale princes.
Sire, þou sall see with þi siȝt slike signes, or þou passe,
As neuire segge vndire son̄ saȝe bot þine ane.
And þou sall here apon̄ happis or þou hethen founde,
Þat neuire hathill vndire heuen herd bot þi-selfe.”
“A! A! happy haly here man̄” quod þis hathill þan̄,
“How þat þou neuynes my name & þou me neuire kend?”
“Ȝis, sothly, ser,” saied þe segge “þi-selfe & þi werkis,
Or any drope of þi delume drechet had þe erd.
List þe noȝt loke on þe lindis þat leuys euire mare,
Þat has þe surname of þe son̄ & of þe mone alls;
Þat is to mene, bot of þe mone & miȝt has to speke,
And tell þe trewly all þe text quat tide sall here-eftir?”
“Ȝis, by my croune,” quod þe kyng & kyndly was ioyed,
“Þis word I wald, be ȝour will noȝt all þe werd leuir!”
“Ser, waite at þou be wemles for woman̄ touching,
Þan may ȝe leuely on̄ þam̄ loke & lesten ȝour wirdis.
For be ȝe pure of þat pliȝt ȝe may þis place entre,
Þat is þe sette of þat sire þat sett all þe werd.”
“Ser, I am clene of þat craft I knaw wele my-selfe,
Be þou oure gide to þe greuys apon̄ gods name.”
With þat bownes him þat berne & fra his bed ryses,
Cled all in clene gold kirtill & mantill,
A grym grisely gome with grete gray lokis;
Al glitered þe ground for glori of his wedis.
“Sirs, ȝe þat will has to wend ȝour wapens deuoidis,
Nymes of ȝour nethirgloue & nakens ȝoure leggis,
Pesan, pancere, & platis all to ȝoure preue clathis,
Iopon̄ & iesserand & radly me folows!”
Þe kyng at his comaundment with his kniȝtis him spoilis,
Puttis of to þe selfe serke senture & othire,
Takis with him ser telomew an̄ of his princes,
And Antiet, an̄ athill duke & eftir him wendis.
Þai ferd furth all in fere þir foure all to-gedire;
Þe lede at was þar ladisman þe lord & his kniȝtis
Went þurȝe a wale wode was wondire of to tell,
As it ware hiȝtild in þat hill with handis of aungels.
For þare ware tacchid vp trees þe triest of þe werd,
A hundreth fote to þe hede þe hiȝt was & mare,
Lyke oleues out of lebany & lores so grene,
With sichomures & sipresses & sedrisse e-blande.
Þar trekild doun of þa teres of iemmes,
Boyland out of þe barke bawme & mirre,
Of scence & of othire salue as sechis out of wellis,
Þat rase neuire of Aromitike sike rekils in erth.
Þai fande a ferly faire tre quare-on̄ na frute groued,
Was void of all hire verdure & vacant of leues,
A hundreth fote & a halfe it had of leȝt large,
With-outen bark ouþir bast full of bare pirnes.
Þar bade a brid on̄ a boghe a-bofe in þe topp̄,
Was of a port of a paa with sike a proude crest,
With bathe þe chekis & þe chauyls as a chykin̄ brid,
And all gilden was hire gorg with golden fethirs,
All hire hames be-hind was hewid as a purpure.
And all þe body & þe brest & on̄ þe bely vndire
Was finely florischt & faire with frekild pennys,
Of gold graynes & of goules full of gray mascles.
Þan waitis on̄ hire þe wale kyng & wondire him thinke,
Was in þe figure of hire fourme noȝt ferlid a littill.
“Quat loke ȝe?” quod þe ladisman “do lendis on̄ forthire,
Ȝone is a fereles foule a Fenix we calle.”
Þan bowe þa forthe all ebland & to þire treis comes,
Þe plants of þe proud son̄ & of þe pale mone.
“Behalds now,” quod þis hare man̄ “to þir haly bowis,
And quat þou will of þaim to wete wis in þi saghe.
Appose þaim all in preuate bot make na playn̄ wordis,
And þou may swythe haue a sware at swike sall þe neuire.
Þan may þou gesse in þi gast it is a gude sprete
Þat sends þe sike asouerance & sees to þi thoȝtis.”
Þire boles was, as þe boke sayes borly & hiȝe,
Þe lind of þe liȝt son̄ louely clethid,
With feylour as of fine gold þat ferly faire lemes,
Þat oþir loken ouire with leues as it ware liȝt siluir.
Þan̄ Alexander at þis athill askis a demande,
“In quatkyn manir of lede sall me þir treis sware?”
“Sothly, ser, þe son̄-tree” said þe segge þan̄,
Entris in with yndoyes & endis in greke;
And mast-quat ay þe mone-tree þurȝe miȝt of hire kynde,
Quen it kithis vs any carpe þe contrarie spekis;
For scho begynes all in grew & endis in ynde,
And þus be twinlepi tongis tell þai oure wirdis.”
Þan knelis doun þe conquirour vn-to þe cald erthe,
And aithire bole eftir bole blithly he kissis,
And þoȝt if he suld with þe thra of all þe thedes wete,
If he suld move agayn̄ to Messedon̄ quare his modire duellid.
Þan̄ schogs hire þe son̄-tree & schoke hire schire leues,
And with a sweȝand swoȝe þis sware scho him ȝeldis:
“Sire, þou ert lele of ilk lede þe lorde & þe fadire;
Bot þi sire soile in na side see sall þou neuire.
For þi modire nor ȝit Messedon̄ þou seȝis þaim na mare.”
Þan̄ list him lithe of his lyfe & of his last ende:
“So maideux,” quod þe mone-tree “þi meere bees na langir
Bot out þis anlepi ȝere & aftir viij monethis;
Þan̄ sall he duale þe with a drinke at þou full dere traistis.”
Þan̄ makis he mournyng & mane & in his mynd thinkis,
Qua suld þat trecherous trayne of treson̄ him wirke.
He said, “hende haly tree” & halsid hire in armes,
“Quat person̄ sall do me depresse I pray þe me tell?”
“Sire, sothely,” said þe son̄-tree “if I þe sothe neuened,
Qua suld þe wite out of þe werd & þe þi werdis dele,
Þan suld þou slaa þe same segge & so my sawis faile;
And þat may worthe be na wai for ay my wordis standis.”
Þan̄ lokid on̄ him his ladisman̄ said, “lefe of þi wordis,
For writhing of þir wale treeis & willne þaim na mare.
Bot graythe þe, gome, on̄ gods behalue and a-gayn̄ turne,
For ouire þe lemetis of þir lindis may no lede founde.”
Þen bownes agayn̄ þe bald kyng baldly he wepis,
Þat he so skitly suld skifte & fra his skars terme.
So did his princes, sais þe prose for pete of him-selfe,
With ȝedire ȝoskingis & ȝerre ȝett out to grete.
Þan̄ bedis þaim þe barotour on̄ bathe þaire eȝen twa,
Þat þai suld neuire þis note to nane of his ost neuyn̄,
Quat þai beheld in þe hill & herd with þaire eres;
And he þan styntis of his stoure & steris his hert.
“If ȝe will gange,” quod þis gide “a-gayn̄ to ȝoure kniȝtis,
Moves ȝow to þe nethire-ward next I it hald.”
Þan passis he to þis proud place & oure kynge leues,
And he gose doun be grece a-gayn̄ to his tentis.
Þar logis he fra þe late niȝt till efte þe liȝt schewis,
With sare sighingis & sadd for sake of his wirdis;
Costreynes him with his contenance to with his kniȝtis play,
Bot þat bot sprang of þe splene þe sprite was vn̄-esid.
Sone as þe day-rawe rase he risis vp belyue,
Riches him radly to ride & remows his ost,
Driues on̄ with his dukis day eftir othire,
Till he was meten̄ to þe meere quare he þe monte entird,
Þat was þe proud playn̄ fild I proued ȝow be-fore,
Quare all þe face of þe fild was of fyne goules.
Þare piȝt he doun his pauylions & with his princes bidis,
And þe driȝt of a day he duellis in þa costis.
Betwene þa styes in a stound þat strekis þurȝe þe mountis
He mas twa pylars doun to pynche all of playn̄ marble,
And tacchis vp of treid gold a pelare in þe myddis,
With a prolouge in þat plate on̄ aithire post writen̄.
“I, Alexander þe athill eftire þe date
Of þe prince & Persye & Porrus þire pilars en-haunsid.
Qua list þis lymit ouir-lende lene to þe left hand,
For þe rake on̄ þe riȝt hand þat may na man̄ passe.”
Þis titill was of twa tongis tane out & grauen,
Of Ebru & of yndoys & of þire ald lettres,
Of latine & of othire lare & leues out of grece,
Proudly prikid all in prose; & here a pas endis.