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Syre, it be-tid on̄ a tyme þe text me recordis,
Þat þe mode kynge of Messedone with mekill nounbre,
Þat was sire Philip̄ þe fers farne out of toune,
For to feȝt with his fais out of fere landis.
Quen he was boune oute of burȝe & his bake turned,
As tite as Anec him amed out of his awyn kythe,
He paste vp to þe Palais & preualy entirs,
Þat he miȝt lend þare on loft & luke on þe qwene.
Sone as him selfe was in þe sale & saȝe hire with eȝe,
He beheld Olympadas þat honourable lady;
Hire bewte bitis in his brest & his bodi thrillis,
And drifes thurȝe his depe hert as he ware dartwondid.
Þe lede lawid in hire lofe as leme dose of gledis,
Put vp his hand to his hare & heldid it bot littill.
“Haile, modi qwene of Messidoyne” he maister-like said;
Þare deyned him na daynte ‘madame’ hire to call,
Be-cause he knew him a kyng he carpid on̄ þis wyse.
For if he come as A clerke with a croune schauyn,
And diȝt as a Doctour in drabland wedis,
Ȝit all þe erth of Egipt had he bene aire ouire.
Þan answars him̄ þe qwene with full myld speche,
“Haile, maister,” quod þat myld & made him to sytt
On a sege hire be-syde of silkyn clathis,
And þar hire spakid with his speche & spird of him̄ wordis.
Quen he was sete in his sete þat semely qwene
Ai of Egipt erd enquirid if he were,
Þoȝt him like of þat lede be langage & othire;
For-þi scho wetis if he wald wete hire to say.
“A! athel qwene,” quod Anec “ai be þou ioyed!
If þou a wirschipfull worde has werpid & spoken,
A riall roune þou me redis a reson̄ of blis,
Quen þou mynnys of þat marche & with þi mouth tellis.
For þare enhabetis in þat erd þat þou are sayd.
Þe wisest wees in̄ þis werd þe welken vndire.
For þai can̄ swyth of a sweuyn̄ all þe swepe tell,
Wheþire it be sele or soroȝe in a sete quile,
And þai can certifi & se by sygnes of þe heuyn̄,
Quat sall be-fall a-pon fold with-inen a fewe ȝerys.
Sum vndirstandis in a stounde þe steuen of þe briddis,
To say þe by þar sapience quat þar sange menys;
Sum can̄ þi consaile declare þofe þou it carpid neuire,
Þe poyntis of all þi preuates pertly can̄ schewe.
Sum can̄ þe brefe be-life þe birth of þine childire,
Be it hee, be [it] scho haly þare werdes.
And if I say it my-selfe slik sotellte I haue,
Sa clere a witt & sa clene my creatoure I lofe,
Þat all þe notis at I neuyn nobly I can̄,
As any prophet a-perte to proue ȝow þe sothe.”
Quen he þire sawis had sayd he in his sege lened,
In stody still as a stane & starid in hire face,
Beheld haterly þat hend þat had his hert percid,
With depe desire of delite ay on þat dere waytis.
Sone as hire selfe it sawe at he hire sa behaldis,
Þen scho talkis him to & titely him fraynes:
“Quare-on muse ȝe sa mekill, maister?” scho sayd;
“Ȝe behald me sa hogely quare-on̄ is ȝour mynd?”
“My frely fode,” quod þe freke “noȝt bot þe werdes
Of my gracious goddis þe grettest on erde.
Þai haue tald me be-for þis tyme þat now I trew fynd,
How I suld lenge in a land & loke on̄ a qwene.”
Þan out of his bosom̄ he brayd a blesand table
Of Euour & of othire þingis odly fourmed,
Of bras & of brynt gold & o[f] briȝt siluer,
Þat thre serclis sere in it selfe had.
In þe first compas I ken as me þe claus tellis,
Stude þe xij vndirstandings stoutly engrauen.
In þis oþir draȝt ware deuysid a dusan of bestis,
And semely sett was in þe thrid þe son̄ & þe mone.
Sethen he clekis out of a cas vij clere sternes
To tell him takens of þe tymes & talis of our werdis;
And vij stele-grauyn stanys & stoute oþire tway,
Þat wald for hurte or for harme any hathill kepe.
Þus as he tuke furth his toylis & his trammys schewis,
“If I sall lefe on þi lare” quod þe leue qwene,
“Say me þe day & þe same ȝere & þe selfe tyme
Of þe birth of þe bald kyng þat I best lufe.”
Þan answars Anec onane sayd, “is þar oȝt ellis
At ȝe wald, hend, of me here or at ȝoure hert willis?
For any cas þat is to com to knaw if þe likis,
I sall as namely ȝow neuyn̄ as it ware nowe done.”
“Þan will I,” quod þe wale qwene “ȝe wete me to say,
Quat me & Philip sall fall vs be-twene.
For, bow he fra þe bataill bernys me tell,
Þen will he wed anoþire wife & wayfe me for euer.”
“Nay, noȝt for ay,” quod þe freke “þar haue þai fals spoken;
Neuer þe latter, or oȝt lange sall lymp̄ as þou sayd.
Bot ȝit I fynd, for all his fare fleme he sall þe toþire,
And wild ȝour self to will nyll he so will he.”
Þan was a-wondird of his wordis þe worthe lady,
Be-soȝt sekirly þis sire if he safe vouchid,
Þat scho myȝt weterly wete þe will of all þingis,
Quatkyn poynt or plyte predestend hire were.
“Athill qwene,” quod Anec “as I am enfourmed,
Ane of þe grettist of oure godis of grace & of miȝt,
I fynd, or it be fere to fleschely þe knaw,
And efter in all aduersites is amed þe to help.”
Þan sayd Olympadas “now, honourable maister,
I be-seke þe, my sire if þou me say wald,
Quatkyn fygour on fold or fourme at he beris,
Þat demyd is or destaned þis dede for to worche.”
“Þat will I wele,” quod þe wee “& noȝt a word leȝe.
Þis myȝty god at I me[ne] is of a medill age,
Noȝt of ȝouth nor of eld nor ȝerris to many,
Bot euyn so be-twene twa & to [mekyll] of nouthire.
How he is merkid & made is mervaile to neuyn,
With—tachid in his for-top̄— twa tufe hornes;
A berd as a besom̄ with thyn bred haris,
A mouthe as a mastif hunde vn-metely to shaw.
Bot, dame, if he be þus diȝt drede þe neuer þe more,
Bot ȝe be buxsom & bayne & boune to his will.
Be nyȝter-tale he sall þe neȝe þis note to begyn̄,
And ȝe be merryd neuer þe mare bot mete him in sweuyn.”
“Now certayn̄, sire,” sayd þe qwene “selly me thinke.
Bot may I se þis be sothe at ȝe me say here,
Noȝt as a prophet ne a prest I prays sall þi selfe,
Bot rehers þe as hieȝe gode & hie þe for euire.”
With þat rysis vp þe renke & his rowme lefys,
Laȝt leue at þe qwene for a litill quile,
Gase him doune be þe grecis a-gayn̄ fra þe sale,
Furthe to make his maistryse & mose in his arte.

Þus passis he fra þe place to proue his sleȝtis,
Silis furth all him selfe þe cyte with-outen,
Drafe in-to a depe dissert & drewe vp herbis,
Þe chosest for inchantement at he chese couthe.
Quen he had gedird his grese & grune þaim esundire,
For Iapis of his gemetry þe ious out he wrengis,
Erne till exorȝise & ethis euer elike,
Þat it suld worthe as he wald & on̄ na way faile.
He clatird on̄ coniurisons & calid to him deuyls,
And all þe incheson̄ of his charme with þat þe chefe qwene
Þe same nyȝt in hire slep suld se with hire eȝen
Amon̄ hire awyn god in hire armes ligge,
And dreme at he didd hire swa & quen he done hadd,
Þan suld he say to hire-selfe sadly þire wordis,
“Now has þou, woman, I-wys with-in þi twa sydis
Consayued him at in all þi care þi cors sall defend.”
Þis ilk euyn ouer-ȝede & arly on̄ þe morne,
As arly as þe riche qwene was resyn fra slep̄e,
Þan efter Anec on̄-ane scho al aboute sendis,
Takis him betwene þam̄ twa tald him hire sweuyn.
“Ȝa,” quod he, “comly qwene I couthe, & þou wald
Preualy in þi palais lat me a place haue,
Make þe to se þe same gode & þi-selfe wakand,
Face to face all his fourme & his effecte clene.
Þis grete god full of grace sall glide to þi chambre,
In a dredfull deuys a dragons fourme,
And þan þe figour of a freke he sall take eftire,
And preualy in þat part a-pere ȝowe be-forne.”
Þan answars him þe swete quene & sone him it grantis,
“Sire, chese þe a chambre quare þe chefe þinkis,
Nowþire myne awen ne na nothire god lat þe noȝt spare,
Or any place at ȝow plece my palas with-in.
For may þou hald me þis hest as þou here tellis,
And profe þus in my presens as a propire sothe,
Þen sall I cherische þe with chere as þou my child were,
Loute þe louely & loue all my lyfe days.”
“Graunt mercy,” quod þe grete clerke to þe gude lady,
Thankis hire full thraly & þen forth wendis
To loke & layte him a loge quare he lenge myȝte,
And buske him a bedsted quare him best likid.
Qwen it was metyn to þe merke þat men ware to ryst,
And folke was on þaire firste slepe & it was furth euyns,
Þan Anec on̄ ane his artis he fandis,
And changid by enchantmentis his chere all to-gedire.
Þer worthid he by his wiche-craft in-to a wild dragon̄,
And to the ladi lere he lendid in haste,
Fliȝand in his fethire-hames & ferly fast sletis,
And in a braide, or he blan he þe bed entris.
Quen he was laide be-lyfe his liknes he changis,
Worthis agayn̄ to a wee fra a worme turnys.
Þen kisses he kenely þe quene & clappis in armes,
Langis sare to þe layke & on-loft worthis.
Quen he had wroȝt all his will hire wame þen he touches,
And with a renyst reryd þis reson he said,
“Þis concepcion with kyngis sal be callid here-efter
A verra victor a-vansid with all þe vayne werde.”
Þus be-gylid he this gude wyfe & makis hire to wene
It ware na gett of na gome bot of god ane.
Qwen þe day-raw rase he rysis be-lyfe,
Lendis a-lande fra þe loft & left hire with child.
Sone as hire bele gun bolne all hire blee changis,
So was scho ferd & a-friȝt a ferly ware ellis.
To be bonden with barne mekill bale to hire neȝehis,
For it & Philip hire fere o-ferrom was sybb.
Þan Anec hire awyn clerke scho on-ane callis,
“Lo, maister, slike a myschefe!” & mayn̄ly hire pleynes.
“I dred þat I nere dee bot ȝe me deme sone
Quat me is beste of þis case if euer þe kyng turne.”
“Be noȝt a-bayste,” quod þe berne “ne a-bleyd nothire,
Þare sall na chanche þe chefe þe charge of a pese.
For Amon̄ oure athill gode sall all-way þe helpe,
And kepe þe full careles if any cas fallis.”

Quat dose now þis diuinour bot to desert wendis,
Airis on all him̄ ane out of þe cite,
Ȝede him furthe eftirsons herbis to seche,
Reft þam vp be þe rotis & radly þam̄ stampis.
Þe Iuse for his gemetry þat Iogloure takis,
A[nd] sythen a brid of þe see him seluyn him fangis,
Clatirs to hyre coynte þingis kenely enchantis,
And [with] þe wose of þe wede hire wengis anoyntis;
And all þis demerlayke he did bot be þe deuyllis craftis,
How he myȝt compas & kast þe kynge to begyle.
He wroȝt a wondirfull wile & will ȝe now here
How he be-glouird þis gome & gilid him in̄ sweuyn?
Þis ilk Philip̄ þe fyrs þat in þe fiȝt lenges,
Þe same nyȝt in his slepe he saȝe, as him thoȝt,
Amon his awen god in armes with his qwene,
And make with hire market as [he] a man were.
And quen he wroȝt had his will þen witrely him metis,
Þat he bowes to hire belechiste & bigly it sewys,
And sethen asselis it him selfe semely & faire
With a rede golde rynge on þis aray grayuyn;
A lyons heuyd was on-loft louely coruyn̄;
Þe bounde of a briȝt son & a brande kene.
And þen he went furth his way sayd, “woman, þou hauys
Þi full defendoure on̄ fold now frely consa[u]yd.”
Als radly as þe riche kyng rase on̄ þe morne,
Riȝt in þe dawyng of day a diuinour he callis,
And as him dremyd ilke a dele þat doctour he tellis,
And fraynes him fast on þis fare how it be-fall suld.
“Phylip̄,” quod þe phylysofyre “þi fere is with childe,
And with no gett of na gome bot of god selfe.
And, gudman, [on] þe gold rynge þe thre grauen thyngis,
Þai ere þus mekill to mene as me my mynd tellis.
To þe lyon̄ hede,” quod þe lede “þen licken I, on̄ firs,
Þe birth þat scho bere sall als best it be-semys,
Þat chefe sall to a chiftan̄ & slike a chefe maister,
As to be halden heuydman of all þe hale werde.
Now sall I clerily declare þe course on̄ þe sonne;
Þat sygnyfys þe same man̄ þat sett is, be wird,
So many prouynce to pas þurȝe prowis of armys,
Þat he sall hit with his hede in-to þe heghe est.
Now of þis bytand brand berne, will ȝe here;
And all is bot þis hathill man̄ as I are sayd,
Þat sall sa fele men afray with fauchon̄ in hande,
And out of nounbre to neuyn of nacions wynn̄.”
Þan foundis Philip to þe fyȝt & þe fild entres,
And sone in delingis of dyntis a dragon̄ aperis,
Þat streȝt be-for him in þe stoure strikis doune his faas,
And all his enmys in þat erd he endid in a stounde.
When Phylyp̄ with his faire folke had þe fild won̄,
Þan̄ metis he him to Messadone þar metis him þe qwene,
Kyssis comly hire king & of his come ioys,
And how he fore scho him fraynes ferly ȝerne.
“Wele, graunt mercy,” quod þe kyng “my god, I him loue;
Bot how þat ȝe ga sa grete gud dame?” he sayd.
Þou has ragid,” quod þe renge “with vnryd gestis;
Now hafe I, lede, all to lange lengid fra hame.”
Þus to bre hire o bourde he breuys þire wordis;
“To quam has þou þe tane till tell m[e] þe sothe?
Outhire mete has mendid þe full mekill as may I noȝt trowe,
Or ane has stollen in my stede sen I was stad þare.”
Þus bayst he þe briȝt qwene þat all hire ble changid,
To skyre skarlet hewe skyftis hire face,
Hire chere at was chalke-quyte as any chaffe worthis;
So was scho schamed of þe schont þat hire þe schalk made.
“Nay, quod þe comly kyng “cache vp þine hert,
Þofe þou haue forfet, na force so has fele othire.
Þou has giltid, bot noȝt gretly it greuys me þe les;
For god has geten þe þis gett a-gaynes þi will;
All þat was done þe bedene was me be dreme schewyd,
I saȝe it surely as my-selfe slepe in my tentis,
And oure god all-to-gedire is ground of þe cause;
Of me worthis þe þe wite ne of na wee ellis.”

Þen tyd it anes on̄ a tym a lytill terme efter,
Þis dere kyng on̄ a day on̄ his dese syttis,
Had parreld him a proude feste of princes & dukis,
With maisterlingis of Messadone & many oþire noble[s].
Þus as he sat in his sete softly by his qwene,
In schene schemerand schroude all of schire stanes,
He kest vp his contenance & knyȝtly he lokes,
And gladis gudly his gestis as his degre wald.
Þan̄ Anec[t]anabus on-ane in alþire-mast ioy
Did on̄ him his dragon̄-hame & drafe thurȝe þe sale,
With slike a rowste & rerid þe romance it wittnes,
Þat nere had bernes for þat bere bene broȝt out of witt.
He was sa hatter & sa hoge quen he þe hall entird,
Lete sa lathely a late & sa loude cried,
Þat all þe fest was a-ferd & oþire folke bathe.
To þe chefe chaiare of þe qwene he chese him be-lyue,
And laide as hendly as a hunde his hede in hire arme,
Seþin kyssis he hire clene mouthe enclynes hire lawe,
And braydis furth with a brym̄ bere out at þe brade ȝatis.
Þen sayd Philip̄ to his fere & all his fre gestis,
“Ȝone selfe dragon̄ forsothe I saȝe with myne eȝen̄;
Quen I was stad in þe stoure he strenthid all myne oste,
And þar þe floure in þe filde I fangid þurȝe him selfe.”
Anoþire ferly þar fell within fewe days,
Þe king was sett in his sale with septer in hand;
Þen come þar-in a litill brid in-to his arme floȝe,
And þar hurkils & hydis as scho were hand-tame;
Fast scho flekirs about his fete & fleȝtirs aboute,
And þar it nestild in a noke as it a nest were,
Qwill scho had layd in his lap̄e a litill tyne egg,
And þan scho fangis hire fliȝt & floȝe away swyth.
Þis egg, or þe kyng wyst to þe erth fallis,
Brak, & so it wele burde & brast all e-soundir;
Þan wendis þar-out a litill worm & wald it eft enter,
And or scho hit in hire hede a hard deth suffirs.
Þan̄ was ser Philip̄ of þat fare ferly mekill sturbid,
Callis to him a kid clerke declaris to him þis wonder,
Besoȝt him quat it sygnified to tell him þe treuthe.
“Þat graunt I gudly,” quod þe gome & þus-gate he spekis:
“Sire, þere sall borne be a barne of þi blithe lady,
Þat driȝtyn efter þi day has destaned to regne,
Þe quilke sall walke all þe werd & wyn̄ it him selfe,
And hent sall a full hetire deth or he may hame couer.”
Þus he vndid him ilka dele & him þe dome reched,
Said it was sett to be so he saȝe by his artis.
And if ȝow likis of þis lare to lesten any forthire,
Sone sall I tell ȝow a text how it be-tid efter.