 | The Wars of Alexander |  |
Quartus passus.
The same & þe selue tyme as says me þe text,Fro þe cuntre of capadose come a kyd prince
To kyng philipp̄ þe fers & hym a fole bryngez;
A grett horse & a hoge a hegh & a wilde,
A store & a styf stede stalwortly bondyn̄;
His choll chaltird & chauelez in chynez of yren̄;
In rapes fast for ryfyng of bernes;
For other mete þan manysflesche mouthed he neuer.
Busifolen to þis blonk was breued þe name.
He hed so ferdfull a face as ony fyre lokez;
Bere als a boles heued a bryn on hys shulderr,
And toton owt of hys top̄ als tyndis of hornes.
The fayrnes of þis ilke fole when philip̄ avysed,
Þan says he to hys seruand to see to þis capyll,
And stighillys hym in som̄ stede a stable by hym one,
With lang lates of yren̄ þat he might lig in.
And all at wer dampned to þe deth & demyd at þe lawe,
Þai sall be broȝt fra þe bare þis blonk into stable,
To wery at hys awne wille & weyle of þe fattest.
Ȝit philip̄ of hys faire goddes hym fanges such a sware,
Yff ony berne wer so bald baron̄ or other,
Or wy þat myght þis wilde best worth for to ryde,
Was dewly aftir hys day destinate to regne.
When alexander was of elde awght ȝeres & foure,
Þan was he worthy & wight & wisely hed leryd
At arestotell all ouer þe artez all seuen̄,
And castor, ane oþer clerke þar at wer hys kyd maisteres.
So carez he in þe castell-ȝarde & commes on a day
By a wyndow als þis wild horse [was] warloked in bandez;
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So mony menbres of men wer mervayle to tell.
Þar liggez lymmes of laddes leggez & harmes,
Tharmes thrist owt of thees banes & shuldres.
Som hanchyd of þe heued som þe handez etyn̄,
Som̄ þar riggez owt rytte & som þar ribbez rent.
Of þis wonder he hed & so he wele burd.
And hardly hys awne hand in at a hole puttes,
He layd owt a lang neke & hys hand likkys;
Faire faldes hys fete / & falles hym to þe erth,
Hendly haldes vp hys heued byheld in hys face,
On Alexander ay-whare euer elike wates.
Þen wist þe wy wele enogh hys wyll all-to-geder;
Brades vppe þe brade ȝate & þe barre entres,
On þe rige with hys right hande hym rodely strakez,
And he full frely & faire hym faunys & loutez.
Was neuer barslett in band more buxum to hys lord.
Þen was þis blonke to þis bern̄ for all his breme teches.
Þus lowtes þis lede on low & lowsys hys chynez,
Blyssis blythly hym abouute & a bridyll fyndez;
Grathez on þis gay gere & þen a gilt sadyll;
Ledes hym forth of þat loge & þen of-lofte lepys.
Than strenys he hys streropes & streȝt vp sittes;
Lad hym by þe loran̄ & hym þe lede wissez.
And he als rekyndly ran rolland hym vnder,
As he þe sadyll hed sewyd seuenten wynter.
Sone as philip̄ þe ferse hym on þis fole metes,
“Son̄,” he sayd, “now er þe sawes into þi seluen fyneshit,
Right as my graceux gode hase galet me before.
For þou must rewle all my realm̄ qwen I am raght hyne.”
Quod alexander als beliue “my awne athell fader,
I beseke þe my soueren þat þou my sete dresse
In a chosyn chariott as a chefe maister,
With folawand me a fair flete of fele men of armes.”
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“Frist of my faire foles fang þe a hundreth;
And syne sexty thowsand, my son̄ þou þi seluen wale
Of shillynges & of shire gold to shote in þi Cofyre;
Syne of my chefe chiftanes chese þe þe best,
Þe most proved of my princez in poyntez of were;
Wyes ne no wale wede want shall þe noþer,
And held on with a hale here þar hersound þou worth.”
Thys barne hym buskes as he bede & bade he no langre,
Bot grathes hym to þe gate with a gyn̄ noble.
Forth with eufestyus he ferd a freke þat he loued,
Þat was a fyne Philo[so]f[e]r a frend of hys awne.
Ȝitte takez he hym with-owte þe town̄ twelf tried childer,
Þat he hed Cosyn hym for chefe hys chevalry to lede;
And fair enformed þam of fight & fetez of armez
For ȝapest in hys awne yoke ȝarly to drawe;
Fers felons with hym fangez & florens enowe,
Full preciouse apparement hys person to cleth,
Comand kenely hys knyghtez to kepe to hys blonkez,
Þat no vnchaunce þaim achefe þat in þe chare ȝodez.
He prekys forth on hys play bot with a preuay menȝe,
Chaterand with hys chiftanes in hys child gere.
To poliponenses hase he passed a prouince vnk[n]awyn̄,
And so was strykyn or he styntyd in-to þe strange realm̄.
The kyng of þatt cuntree þat þe kyth weldyd,
Which was callyd nicholas & hym naytly metes,
Had rasyd vp a rode hoste & heldyd hym ayaynez
With bald baratours on bent hym batell to ȝelde.
He flonge ow[t] on a fers fole far from hys hoste,
Ayres to sir alexander & angrely franes:
“What is þi name, notesman̄ neuen me þe sothe;
And whyne ert þou & who & what makys þou here?”
Þe knyght, as he wele couth hym curtasly answers:
“Sir, kyng philip̄ þe ferse my fader was
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And I hys heyre alexander als elders me callen̄.”
Þat oþer renishit r[e]nke hym rightes in þe sadyll,
Stranes owt hys sterops & sternly lokez;
With a sembland as a hye sir settes owt þe brest,
Sayd: “who am I þat am here as þou supposez?”
“Sir, þou art a kyng of þis kyth I ken wele my-seluen̄,
Bott neuer þe latter in þis lede if þou be lord here, haten̄,
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Lat þou þi hert neuer þe hiȝere hale in-to pride.
For it was wont,” quod þe wee “as wyse men tellis,
Full hiȝe þingis ouer-heldis to held oþer-quile.
Slike as ere now broȝt a-bofe nowe þe bothum askis,
And slike at left ere on lawe ere lift to þe sternes.”
“Sa ma aydeus,” quod þat oþire man “þou tellis me treuthe,
Son̄ þis ensample of þi-selfe þou sais me, I trowe.
Vn-behalde þe wele on̄ ilk halfe & haue a gud eȝe,
Les on þine ane here-efterward þine ossyngis liȝt.”
Þan Alexander all in ire angrile spekis:
“Hy þe hethen-ward, þou hathill & houe þou na langire.
For na-þing as a-nente me þou has noȝt to mell,
Ne with þi domes me to dele dole vndire sonne.”
Now is ser Nicollas anoyed & nettild with ire,
As wrath as [a] waspe & wode of his mynde,
Reviles he þis oþire renke with vnrid speche:
“Behald,” quod he hedirward “& herken how I say;
Now be þe hert & þe hele of my hathill fadire,
And be þe god,” quod þe gome “þat gafe me þe saule,
A[ls] sprent [of] my spittyng a specke on̄ þi chere,
Þou sall be diȝt to þe deth & drepid of my handis.”
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Dispises him despetously dispersons him foule.
“Hent þe þare,” quod þe hatill “as þe to haue semes,
Cure, for þi kene carp̄e chache nowe a schame!”
Þan went him furthe Alexander & his ande takis,
Lete a-swage or he sware þe swelme of his angirs,
Be-seȝis him how he say wold or he his saȝe ȝeld,
And turnes him þen to þe tulke & talkis þire wordis:
“For þou has noȝtid me now Nicollas,” he sayd,
I swere þe, be my syre saule & by his selfe pite,
And be þe worthe wombe of my wale modre
Þat I was geten in of gode & graithely consayued,
Þou seis me, lede, or oȝt lange in þi lande armed,
And oþire recouyre me þi rewme or reche vp̄ þe girdill.”
Þan set þai þam slike a day to semble & to fiȝt,
And þar-to tuke vp þaire trouthis & twyned esondre.
Þen̄ ȝode him furthe þi[s] ȝong man̄ ȝapeli & swythe
In-to þe marche of Messedone & manly a-semblis
Of saudiours & sekir men a soume out of nounbre,
Þat was þe baldest & þe best breueyd in armes.
He parrails him a proude ost of princes & oþire,
Farkis to ser Philip & fangis his leue,
And þan̄ Bocifilas his blonke he bremely ascendis,
And bounes on̄ with his bataill out at þe brade ȝatis.
Þe same day at was sett þe sembling of bathe,
Aithire with a firs flote in þe fild metis.
Þe nounbre of ser Nicollas it noyes me to reken,
And Alexander was ane oste of augird many.
With þat þai tuke vp þaire trompes a-pon̄ þe twa sidis,
Braidis banars a-brade buskis to mete.
So kinlid þe clarons þat all þe cliffe rynges,
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Ilk a hathill to hors hiȝis him be-lyue,
Stridis into stele-bowe stertis apon loft,
Has a helme on̄ his hede & honge on̄ his swyre
A schene schondirhand schild & a schaft hentis.
Quat of stamping of stedis & stering of bernes,
All dymed þe dale & þe dust ryses.
With slik a bront & a brusche þe bataill a-sembild,
As þe erth & all þe el[e]mentis at anes had wrestild.
Now aithire stoure on̄ þar stedis strikis to-gedire,
Spurnes out spakly with speris in hand,
Brekis in-to blasons bordren shildis,
Beris in-to briȝt stele bitand lances,
Sone in scheuerand schidis schaftis ere brosten,
Al to-spryngis in sprotis speris of syris,
Dryfuys doune duchepers & doykis of þar horses,
Fellis fay to þe fold many fresch knyȝtis.
Quat dose now þis Nichollas bot nymes him a spere,
Kest him on þis ȝong knyȝt to couire him a name;
And Alexander with anothire airis him agayne,
Girdis grymly to-gedire greuosly metis.
Sa sare was þe semble þire seggis be-twene,
Þat al to-wraiste þai þar wode & werpis in-sondire,
Al to-clatirs in̄-to cauels clene to þaire handis,
Þar left nouþire in þar hand þe lengthe of an ellyn̄.
Þen littid þai na langer bot laschid out swerdis,
Aithire a blesynand brand brait out of schethe,
Hewis on̄ hattirly had thurgh mailes,
Many starand stanes strikis of þaire helmes.
Þen Alexander in ane ire his arme vp-liftis,
Swythe swyngis out his swerde & his swayfe feches.
Þe noll of Nicollas þe kyng he fra þe nebb partis,
Þat doun he fell fra his fole & fynyst for euir.
Þus was him destand þat day as driȝten had shapid,
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Þare slike wirschip he wan̄ ware wonder to tell;
Had of þat hiȝe kyng þe hede fra þe shuldirs.
Þen was him geuyn vp þe ȝerde & ȝolden þe rewme,
And all at left was o lyfe lordis & othire,
Come to þat conquerour & on̄ knese fallis,
And in his mercy & meth mekely þaim put.
Þis renke & his rounsy þai reche vp a croune,
As gome at has þe garland & all þe gre wonn̄.
Þus with þe floure in þe fild he fangid his enmy,
And haldis on̄ with hale here hame to his fadire.
Þan̄ fyndis he Philip on̄ his flett with a fest huge
Had wed him anoþer wyfe & wayfid his quene;
Ane Cleopatras caled a grete kyngis doȝter,
And [laft] had Olympadas & openly for-saken̄.
“Fadire,” quod þis fell knyȝt quen he þis fest entirs,
“Þe palme here of my first price I pray þe resayfe,
Forthe to þe weding or I winde of my wale modire,
And kaire me to a-noþire kyng to couple hire to wyfe.
For þe to felsen ne to foloȝe fallis me na mare,
Ne here to duell with þi douce deynes me na langer,
Now þou mas þe slike a mangery & macchis changis,
And I to consaile vn-callid I can̄ noȝt þar-on.”
With þat þar carpis to þe kyng a knyȝt at þe table,
Ane lesias, a lede & on̄ loude speches:
“Cleopatras a knafe child con̄sayue sall & bere,
Þat demed is eftir þi deth duly to regne.”
Þan̄ Alexander at þis knyȝt angirs vnfaire,
Wynnes him̄ vp̄ a wardrere he walt in̄ his handis,
So hard him hittis on̄ þe hede his hernes out weltid,
And sa he lost has þe lyfe for his leþer wordis.
Þan was þe wale kyng wrath as wonder ware ellis,
Braydis him vp fra þe borde & a brand clekis,
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Bot þan him failis þe feete or he first wenys,
He stakirs, he stumbils & stande he ne miȝt,
Bot ay fundirs & fallis as he ferde ware.
Þe faster forward him he faris þe faster he snapirs;
Quat was þe cause of þe case þat knawis oure lorde.
“Quat now,” quod athill Alexander “quat ailis þe to fall?
Has þou na force in þi fete ne fele of þi-selfe?
For a freke to be ferd or a-fraid outhire,
And þou þe gouernere of grece þat ware grete wondire!”
Þen tittis he doune in þat tene þe tablis ilkane,
Out of þe hall be [þe] hare halis he þe bride,
And so þe wee in his wreth wrekis his modire,
And Philip falne [was] sare seke & all þe fest strubled.
As sone as Alexander of angire he slakis,
He lendis o-loft to þe lede a litill days eftir,
Cairis vp with comfurth þe kyng for to vysite,
He comes to þe curten & carpis þis wordis:
“Philip,” quod þis ilke freke & forwith him̄ standis,
“Þof it vn-semely me sytt þe so for to call,
Noȝt as þi suget & þi son̄ my sawe I þe ȝeld,
Bot as a felaw or a frynde fallis to a-nothire.
Sire, latt þi wreth a-wai wende & with þi wyfe saȝtill,
And þe los of Lesias litill þou charge.
I did bot my deuire to drepe him, me thinke;
For it awe him noȝt sa openly slike ossing to make.
And ser, vnworthely þou wroȝt & þat þou wele knawis,
Quen þou was boune with a brand my bodi to schende.”
Þen rewis þe riche kyng of vnride werkis,
Blischis vp to þe berne & braste out at grete.
Þen airis him on̄ Alexander to his awen̄ modire;
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If all ȝe synned him be-syde as ȝour selfe knawis,
Þar-of na we may þe wite it was godis will.”
With þat he fanges hire furthe to Philip hire ledis,
And he comly hire kist & cordis with hire faire,
Anes with Olympadas & þe tothire woydis,
And lofes hire lely to his lyfes ende.
| The Wars of Alexander | |