University of Virginia Library

The Romance of Otuel

1

Herkneþ boþe ȝinge & olde,
Þat willen heren of batailles bolde,
& ȝe wolle a while duelle,
Of bolde batailles ich wole ȝou telle,
Þat was sumtime bitwene
Cristine men & sarrazins kene.

2

Þere was sumtime a king in france,
A douȝty man wiþ spere & launce,
& made sarazins ful tame,
King charles was his name,
& was born in seint denys,
Nouȝt bote a litel fram parys,
& was a wol treu kniȝt,
& meintenede cristendom ariȝt.

3

In his time, a king þer was,
An heþene þat vncristned was,
Þat was king of lumbardie,
& was y-hoten king garsie.
Marsile was his al so,
& manie oþer londes mo.
A swiþe gret lord he was,
In his time non suych þer nas,
On ihū crist ne leuede he nouȝt,
Þat him hadde so dere a-bouȝt.
He leuede al in maumettrie,
& for-sok god & seinte marie.
In alle londes þere he wente,
He slouȝ al þat euere he hente,
Þat wolde on ihū crist bileue,
& tok þe lond to his byheue:
Niȝt & day it was his þout,
To bringe cristendom to nout.

4

In heþenesse þer nas no king,
Þat ne hel[d] of him sum þing,
Or dude him omage or feute.
Suich a miȝty king was he,
Alle þei scholden to him bouwe.
He was lord of londes ynowe,
& ȝit he þouȝte wit maistrie,
Habben al cristendom to gye:
Al cristendom more & lasse,
He þouȝte to maken heþennesse.

5

Whan he wolde hauen a parlement,
Þere com to his comaundement,
To helpen hym wit alle þinges,
Fiftene heþene kinges:
& alle þei were togidere sworn,
Þat cristendom scholde be lorn,
& maden alle here ordenaunce,
To werren uppon þe king of France,
For þei herden alle tidinges,
Þat he was chef of cristene gynges,
& þe king wiste it wel.
Nou schulle ȝe here hou it bifel,

6

Hit was on childermasse day,
Soþ to segge wiþ outen nay,
Þat king charles of sein denys,
Wente him to ward parys.
Hise duzze peres wit him he nam,
& muche poeple to him kam,
& token alle here consail þare,
Þat þei wolden wiþ alle fare,
Into Marsile riden and gon,
& werren þere wiþ godes foon,
& hadden set a certein day,
To wenden þider wiþ outen delay:
Bote ar þei þiderward ferden,
Suiche tydinges þei herden,
Of a sarasin douȝti & good,
Þat a-moeuede al here blod.

7

Þer com a sarazin ful of rage,
Fram king garsie in message,
In to paris þe wei he nam,
& to þe kinges paleis he kam.
Otuwel his name was,
Of no man a-fered he nas,
Into þe paleis þo he cam,
A skwier be þe hon[d] he nam,
& seide: “ich am comen her,
Kyng garsies messager,
To speke wiþ charles, king of þis lond,
& wiþ a kniȝt þat heet Roulond,
& a noþer hatte oliuer,
Kniȝtes holden wiþouten peer:
Þose þre ich biseche þe,
Þat þou telle me whiche þei be.”

8

Þe skwier þouȝte wel by siȝt,
Þat Otuwel was a douȝti kniȝt,
& for he was in message come,
Bi þe hond he haueþ him nome,
& ladde him in to þe halle,
Among þe grete lordes alle,
& þere þei stoden oppon her feet.
He schewede him where þe king seet,
& tauȝte him hou he scholde knowe,
Þere þei seten oppon a rowe,
Roulond & olyuer,
& þe godde kniȝt ogger.

9

Anon as otuwel hadde a siȝt
Of charles þat was king & kniȝt,
For eye of no man he ne leet,
Bote wente to him þere he seet.
Hit was þe boldeste sarazin,
Þat euere þorte drinke win,
& þat was sene wiþ oute lesing.
Þo he spak wiþ charles þe king.
He seide to him amydde his halle:
“Sire king, foule mote þe falle,
Þou art a-boute for to greue
Mahoun þat we onne byleue,
Þere fore haue þou maugre,
So þe greteþ garsie bi me,
Þat me haueþ in message sent,
To seggen his comaundement.
& þou, Roulond, þat art his kniȝt,
Nou ich knowe þe be siȝt,
May ich mete þe in þe feeld,
Wiþ þi spere & wiþ þi scheld,
Ich wole wyte, so mote Ich þe,
Riȝt bytwene me & te.” [OMITTED]

10

[OMITTED] “Þat þou makest offe þis bost,
Tel me nou ȝef þou wost.”
Quaþ otuwel, “so mote ich þe,
I nelle nouȝt hele for eie of þe.
It was oppon a weddenesdai,
In aueril be-fore þe may,
King garsie þe weie nam,
To þe Cite of rome he cam,
Twenti þousende was þe sawe,
Þat were þare of sarazin lawe:
Corsouse m[i swerde ful] harde fel,
& bot þere Freinche flechs fol wel.”

11

Estuȝt of leggers, a freinshe kniȝt,
He sterte op anon riȝt,
& kypte anon in his hond
A gret muche fir brond,
& to otuwel a strok hadde ment,
& Roulond by-nam him þe dent.

12

Þanne seide charles þe king,
“Ich for bede oppon alle þing,
Þat noman be so wood,
For to don hym oþer þan good,
A kinges messager for he is,
He ne schal habbe non harm, i-wis.”

13

“Sire king,” quaþ otuwel, “be mi blod,
& ani of hem be so wod,
To drawe to me swerd or knif,
Certes he schal lesen his lif.”

14

Þe kinges kniȝtes hadden tene,
Of otuwel wordes kene;
Wiþ þat word anon riȝt,
Op starte a freinsche kniȝt,
Bihinden otuwel he cam,
& be þe hod otuwel nam,
& braid wiþ so gret miȝt,
& braid adon þat heþene kniȝt,
& anon out wiþ a knif,
& wolde haue reued him his lif,
& þat sarazin otuwel,
Was i-armed swiþe wel,
Þat he ne dede him nouȝt bote good,
Ne drouȝ of his bodi no blood.

15

He starte op & was wroþ,
To ligge longe him was loþ,
& Corsouze his brond he drouȝ,
& þe kinges kniȝt he slouȝ,
& amang hem alle he stood,
& lokede as he were wood.
Þe kinges kniȝtes were agramed,
& summe of hem were aschamed,
Þat otuwel in þe halle,
Slouȝ a kniȝt among hem alle,
& bi-gunnen op to stonden,
& þouȝte to leggen on him honden.

16

Otuwel þer of was war,
& in his herte it him bar,
Þat þei nere a-boute no good,
& seide to hem þere he stod;
“Bi þe louerd fire mahoun,
Kniȝtes i rede ȝe sitten a-doun.
For ȝef ani of ȝou so hardi be,
Þat any strok munteþ to me,
Mahoun mi god ich here for-sake
ȝef he sschal euere ordres take,
Of ani oþer bisschopes hond,
Bot of Corsouze mi gode brond.”

17

Þei be-helden otuwel alle,
Kniȝtes & skwieres in þe halle,
Þer nas non þat þere stood,
Þat ne wende otuel were wod,
& euere he held his swerd y-drawe,
& ȝaf nouȝt of hem alle an hawe.
King charles stood vpriȝt,
& comaundede a non riȝt,
Þat no man sscholde be so wod,
To do þe messager nouȝt bote good.

18

Kniȝtes & sweines in þe halle,
Were wol glade þer of alle,
Þat þe king so bad,
For mani of hem was sore adrad,
& þei wiþ drowen hem echone,
& euere stod otuwel al one,
& biheld hem as þei ȝede,
ȝef ani him wolde strok dede.

19

Þanne seide charles þe king:
“Bi god þat made alle þing,
Sarasin, nere þou messager,
Wroþer hele come þou her,
I rede þou ȝeld op þi brond,
& taket out of þin hond.”

20

Quaþ otuwel, þat sarazin,
“Bi mahoun, þat is louerd myn,
I nelle take it out of min hond
To noman of al þi lond,
Þat is þer inne geten & bore,
Þat wind þou hauest ilore.”

21

“Sarasin,” quaþ roulond,
“Tak me þi swerd in myn hond,
& iche wole saue þe bi mi blod,
Sschal noman do þe nouȝt bote good,
& whan þou art redi to fare
For soþe þi swerd sschal be ȝare.”

22

Quaþ otuwel þe sarazin;
“Bi mahoun, þat is louerd min,
Þauȝ ich hadde skwieres twelue,
Ich wole bere myn swerd mi selue.
Holte o roum! ich wolde rede,
& þanne dostou a god dede.”

23

“Sarazin,” quaþ charles þe king,
“Let ben al þi þretning.
Tel me nou alle & some
In what message artou come.”
Otuwel, þat noble kniȝt,
Answerede a non riȝt:
“Hider me sente king garsie,
Spaine is his, an[d] lumbardie,
& manye londes name-couþe,
Þat i ne mai nouȝt nemne wiþ mouþe;
Bi me he sente þe to segge,
Þou sscholdest cristendom a-legge,
& maken þine men in eche toun,
For to leuen on fire mahoun,
& þou & alle þine barons bolde,
Of him ȝe sschulle ȝoure londes holde,
Þanne miȝtou amenden ȝif þou wilt,
Þat þou hauest mahoun agult:
&, certes, bote it so bi-falle,
Garsie wele ȝiue þine londes alle,
To olecent of esclauenye,
Þe kinges sone of Ermenie,
Þat haueþ his .o. douȝter to wif,
Þat he loueþ as his lif;
Þous sschall all þi murþe a-doun,
Bote þou leue on sire mahoun.”

24

Þe duzze pieres answerede þo:
“Certes, while we moun ride & go,
Fraunse sschal he neuere ȝiue,
To noman while we moun liue.
Sire king, his wille nou þou wost,
Let asemblen al þin ost,
& let vs upon garsie wenden,
Alle hise londes for to sschenden;
Of wordes þat he haueþ ispeke,
For soþe we reden you be a-wreke.”

25

“Certes, sire king,” quaþ otuwel,
“Þine freinsche kniȝtes kune ȝelpe wel,
& whan þei beþ to werre ibrouȝt,
Þanne be þei riȝt nouȝt.

26

Þauȝ þou bringe wiþ sscheld & spere
Al þat euere may wepene bere,
To werren vpon [k]ing garsie,
Certes alle þei sscholden deie.
& þou art king, & old kniȝt,
& hauest iloren al þi miȝt,
& in þi ȝinkþe, tak god hede,
Þou nere neuere douȝti of dede.”

27

Þo was þe king was a-gramed,
& alle hise duzze peres asschamed,
Þat otuwel, þat heþene kniȝt,
Tolde of hem alle so liȝt.

28

Roulond bi þe king stood,
& ameuede al his blod,
& seide in wraþþe a non riȝt,
To otuwel þat heþene kniȝt;
“To werren on garsie ȝef we fare,
In bataille, and i mete þe þare,
& i may mete þe ariȝt,
Bi ihū þat is ful of miȝt,
Þou ne sschalt neuere after þat day,
Despice freinchs man, ȝef ich may.”

29

“Ouȝ,” quaþ otuwel & louȝ,
“Wherto makestou it so touȝ,
To þrete me in anoþer lond,
Nam ich [nouȝt] here at þin hond,
ȝef þou hauest wille to fiȝte,
Whan euere þou wolt let þe diȝte,
& þou sschalt finde me redi diȝt,
In þe feld to bide fiȝt.”

30

“Bi god,” quaþ roulond, “ich wolde be ȝare
Whan ich wiste to finde þe þare,
& euele mote he þriue & þe,
Þat ferst failleþ of me & te.”

31

“ȝe leue ȝa,” quaþ otuwel þo,
“Wheþer so failleþ of us two,
Ich wole finde mahoun to borwe,
Ich wile be redi erliche to morwe.”

32

Quaþ roulond, þar he stod on grounde,
“Selpe me gode.” feere ifounde
Riȝt be fore þe kinges Eien,
Þat alle þe kinges kniȝtes seien,
Eiþer oþer his trewþe pliȝte,
Vppon morwen for to fiȝte.

33

King charles stod al stille,
& biheld his gode wille,
& seide, “it is harm, iwis,
Þat þou nost what follaut is;
ȝef þou woldes follaut take,
& þine false godes for sake,
Iche wolle make the, so mote ihc þe,
& tou wille bleue wiþ me,
A riche man in mi lond,
Þat ich wille sikere þe on hond.”

34

Otuwel, þat hardi kniȝt,
Answerde a non riȝt:
“Cristes cors vppon his heued,
Þat me radde such a red,
To forsake mi god mahun;
I nelle nouȝt leue thi false sarmon.”

35

Þauȝ otuwel speke outrage,
For he was comen on message,
King charles þat was heende and god,
Noble soffre him habbe nouȝt bote god,
Bote seide to him a non riȝt:
“Be þou skwier, be þou kniȝt,
Tel me ȝef thi conseil is nome,
Of what linage þou art come.”

36

Otuwel answerde þis;
“A kinges sone ich am, iwis,
Soþ to segge & nouȝt to lye,
Ich am þe kinges cosin garsie,
Fernagu myn eem was,
Þat neuere ouer-comen nas,
Sir roulond þi cosin him slouȝ,
Þere fore wole rise wo inouȝ,
Þere fore ich desire so moche,
To fiȝte wiþ roulond sikerliche.
Ich wille to morewen in þe day,
Awreken his deþ ȝef ich may,
Nou he haueþ iseid his sawe,
Þat he ne mai him nouȝt wiþ drawe,
Þat we schule boþe fiȝten ifeere.
Nou ich wille þat þou it here,
Min Emes deþ ich [wille] a-wreke,
Or myn herte sschal to-breke.”

37

King charle[s] gan to meuen his blod,
Bot naþeles he was hende & good,
& nolde for hise wordes heȝe,
Don otuel no vileinie.
Bote comaundede a non a swein,
Gon sechen him his chaumberlein,
A ȝing kniȝt ant nouȝt old,
Þat was wel norssched & bold;
& seide to him, “sire Reiner,
Tak here þis messeger,
& to his in saueliche him lede,
Þat for no word ne for no dede,
Þat he haueþ don & seid,
Þat non hond be on him leid;
& loke that he be wel idiȝt,
& onoured als a kniȝt.”

38

Þe chamberlein a non dede,
Als þe king him hadde ibede,
& ladde him hom to his in;
& whan he was icomen in,
He tok his leue the chamberlein,
& wente to þe king aȝein.
Littel slep þe king þat niȝt,
For ferd of roulant þat gode kniȝt
Of þe bataille he hadde inome,
Leste he were ouer-come,
For þe king hadde sein fol wel,
Þe kuntenaunse of otuel:
Þe king wiste wel a fin,
Hit was a bold sarazin,
For he sauȝ hit wel by siȝt,
Þo he sauȝ him slen his kniȝt.

39

On morwe þo þe dai sprong,
& þe larke bi-gan hire song,
King charles wente to cherche,
Godes werkes for to werche.
Roulond, his cosin, wiþ him ȝede,
Of godes help þat hadde nede,
Þei wenten a non to here masse,
For here sinnen sscholde be þe lasse.

40

Þo þe masse was iseid,
& þe uestement doun ileid,
Þe king & roulond ifere,
Wente forþ as ȝe moun here,
Riȝt to þe paleis ȝate,
& founde houinge þer ate
Otuel, armed and idiȝt,
Al redi to bide fiȝt.
Þo seide þat sarazin;
“Sire king, where is þi cosin,
Roulond þat his truþe pliȝte,
Þat he wolde wiþ me fiȝte?
He was þo fol heie of mod,
Is he nou ilete blod.”

41

Roulond stod & al herde,
Hou otuel toward him ferde,
& answerde a non riȝt:
“By ihū, þat is fol of miȝt,
Þin heued sschal fele vnder þin hood,
Þat i nam nouȝt laten blood.”

42

“Wel-come be þou,” quaþ otuwel þo,
& turnde his stede & made him go,
& to þe place þo rod he,
Þere þe bataille sscholde be.
Al a-boute þe water ran,
Þer was noþer man ne wimman,
Þat miȝte in riden no gon,
At no stede bote at on;
& þere otuwel in rood,
No lengere he ne a-bood.

43

Roulond þat douȝti kniȝt,
Was fol hasteliche idiȝt,
& his stede he bi-strod,
& no lengere he ne abood,
Er þe dai i-don it were,
Þer þei sschollen fiȝten ifere.
Anon als roulond be-heeld,
Otuwel houede in þe feel[d],
Roulond was so egre to fiȝte,
Þat for al þe world he ne miȝte
Abide to riden in at þe ȝate,
Þere otuwel rod in ate,
He þoute þe nekste weie to ride,
& no lengere he nolde a-bide,
He smot his stede wiþ spores briȝte,
& wiþ help of godes miȝte,
Ouer þe water þe stede swam,
& to londe saf he cam.

44

Anon riȝt als roulond
Hadde ikauȝt þe druþe lond,
Gret enuye was ham be-twene,
Þei riden to-gedire wiþ speres kene,
Þat were steue & nouȝt longe;
& þe kniȝtes were boþ stronge,
& smyten eiþer in oþeres sscheld,
Þat boþe hors fellen in þe feld,
& risen aȝein op fram þe grounde,
& boþe kniȝtes were hole & sounde.

45

Þo þe stedes were risen boþe,
Þe kniȝtes woxen boþ fol wroþe,
& drowen swerdes ate laste,
& eiþer huȝ on oþer faste.
Roulond to otuwel smot
A strok, þat fol sore bot,
He wolde haue smiten otuwel,
& he blenkt swiþe wel,
& roulond smot þe stede broun,
& clef þe heued al adoun,
& þe stede fel to grounde,
Bot otuwel was hol & sounde.

46

Roulond was hende & good of wille,
& houede oppon his stede stille,
To smiten made he semblant non,
Er otuwel was risen & gon.

47

“Roulond,” quaþ otuwel, “what was þe?
Art tou blynd, miȝtou nouȝt se
Wil ich oppon mi stede sat?
Whi sscholde mi stede habbe that?
It hadde be more honour to þe,
For soþe to habbe i-smite me.”

48

“Ouȝ,” quaþ roulond, “blame me nouȝt,
Bisengeme, ihc habbe i-fouȝt.
Otuwel, ich hadde yment,
Þat þou sscholdest haue ifeled þat dent.
Ich hadde wel leuere, so mote ich þe,
Otuwel, habbe ȝouen it þe.”

49

Otuwel was wroþ his stede was slawe,
& wiþ his swerd he bar i-draue,
He smot to roulond wiþ good wille,
Þat [h]ouede oppon his stede stille.
Þat he hadde roulond ment,
& he failede of his dent,
& smot roulondes gode stede,
Þat neuere eft on erþe he ne ȝede.

50

Otuwel þoute on errore deede,
Þo he hadde slawe his stede,
Hou roulond houede stille as ston,
Til he was risen & gon;
& he stod al stille,
& leet roulond risen at wille,
& seide, “roulond, so mote ich þe,
Þat strok ich mente to þe,
& nou it is on þi stede istunt,
Let nou stonde dunt for dunt.”

51

Þo þei sien non oþer bote,
Þei wenten to-gidere al on fote,
& strokes ȝeden bi-twene ham so kene,
Þat þe fer sprong out bi-twene.

52

King charles wiþ hise kniȝtes bolde,
Was come þe bataille to bi-holde,
& bi-souȝte god fol of miȝt,
He sscholde saue roulond his kniȝt.

53

Boþe kniȝtes were gode & stronge,
& fouȝten to gider swiþe longe,
Roulond was a hende kniȝt,
& feled þat otuwel smot ariȝt,
& þat myȝt was in his arm,
& þoute to sauen him fram harm,
& seide, “otuwel, let þi fiȝt,
& leue on ihu ful of miȝt,
& ich wele ben at acent,
Þat þou sschalt wedde belecent,
Þe kinges douȝter, mi nese þat is;
I rede, otuwel, þat þou do þis.”

54

Quaþ otuwel to roulond,
“Whil mi swerd is in min hond,
Al þi preching is for nouȝt,
Hit ne cam neuere in my þout,
Me ne stant nouȝt of þe swich awe,
Þat þou sschalt make me reneie mi lawe,
For to wedde belecent;
So nis nouȝt mi wille iwent.”

55

Þo þei ne miȝte nouȝt acente,
Aȝein to bataille þei wente,
& fouȝten harde to-gidere beie;
Neueron of oþer ne stod eie.

56

Roulond bi-gan to meuen his blood,
Þat otuwel so longe stood,
& for tene vp wiþ þe brond,
Þat he bar in his hond,
& in þe heued he þoute to redde
Otuwel, bote nouȝt he ne spedde.
Otuwel starte o side,
& lette þe swerd bi him glide,
& roulond wiþ þe swerdes end,
Reiȝte Otuwel oppon þe lende;
Als he wolde þe dent fle,
Otuwel fel on kne.

57

Otuwel a-sschamed was,
Þat he knelede oppon þe gras,
& for anger his herte gan sswelle,
& þouȝte roulonde for to quelle;
In the heued he hadde him ment,
Bote roulond bleinte for þe dent,
As swete ihu crist wolde,
Þat roulond þere deie ne sscholde.
Bi side þe heued þe dent wente,
& þe hauberk he to-rente,
Fram þe hepe bon an heiȝ,
Þat alle þe pece out fleiȝ.

58

King charles sauȝ þere he stood,
& was fol dreri in his mood,
& was swiþe sore afriȝt,
To lese roulond his gode kniȝt,
For otuwel smot so heterliche,
Þe king wende sikerliche,
Þat roulond sscholde been ylore,
& was a sori man þere fore.

59

As þe king stod in doute,
He spak to his folk aboute,
& seide to alle þat þere were;
“Lordinges, doth as ich ȝou lere,
Sitte eche man oppon his kne,
& biddeth to god in trinite,
For his grace & for hise miȝtes,
Sende seiȝtnesse bi-twene þo kniȝtes
& ȝiue otuwel wille to day,
For to reneien his lay.”

60

Euerichone þei token here red,
& deden as þe king ham bed,
To ih'u crist þei deden here bone,
& swete ih'u herde ham sone.
A whit coluere þer cam fle,
Þat al þe peple miȝten se,
On otuweles heued he liȝte,
Þoru þe uertu of godes miȝte.
& otuwel, þat douȝti kniȝt,
Wiþ-drouȝ him anoon riȝt
Fram roulond, & stod al stille,
To fiȝte more he ne hadde wille,
& seide, “Roulond þou smitest fol sore,
Wiþ-drau þin hond & smiȝt na more.
ȝef þou wolt holden þat þou me het,
Þat i sschal wedde þat maiden swet,
Þe kinges douȝter, belesent,
For soþe, þan is mi wille went,
ȝef i sschal wedden þat faire may,
Ich wille bileuen oppon þi lay,
& alle myne godes forsake,
& to ȝoure god ich wille take.”

61

Roulond likete þat word fol wel,
& answerede otuwel;
“I þonke it ih'u, ful of miȝt,
Þorou wham þat grace is in þe liȝt,”

62

Otuel caste of his hond
Corsouse, his gode brond,
& roulond his also,
& to-gidere þei gune go.
Eyther for-ȝaf oþer his loþ,
Nas non of hem wiþ oþer wroþ,
Bote clippe & kusse eyþer oþer,
As eiþer hedde been oþeres broþer.

63

King charles rood þidere a non,
& kniȝtes wiþ him many on.
Anon as he þider cam,
Bi þe hon[d] roulond he nam,
& seide, “roulond, for godes Erþe,
Hou is þe and þis man iwurþe?
So harde strokes as ȝe habben ȝiue,
Hit is wunder þat ȝe liue.”

64

“Sire,” quaþ roulond, “we beþ al sounde,
Noþer of vs ne haueth wounde.
Otuwel haueþ his conseil nome,
Þat he wile cristene by-come,
& ich habbe granted bi ȝoure acent,
Þat he sschal wedde belecent.”

65

“Certes,” quaþ charles þo,
“Nou þou wolt þat it be so,
I grante wel þat it so be,
For whi þat he wille dwelle wiþ me.
Þanne hadde ich þe & oliuer,
Otuwel, & gode ogger,
In all þe world in lenkþe & brede,
Þer nis king þat nolde me drede.”

66

Þe king took otuwel a non,
& to his paleis made him gon,
& makeden murþe & meloudie,
Of alle maner of menestrausie,
For þe miracle þat was wrouȝt,
Þat otuwel hadde iturnd his þouȝt.

67

On moruen þo þe day was briȝt,
Þei ladden to churche þat noble kniȝt,
Bisschop turpin was bisschop þo,
He follede him þat day & nammo.

68

Þo otuwel hadde follauȝt nome,
& to þe kingges pees was come,
Þe king beed him his douȝter a non,
& feire londes mani on.

69

Otuwel to þe king saide,
“Sire, keep me wel þat maide,
For soþe ich nele hire neuere wedde,
No neuere wiþ hire go to bedde,
Er þi werre to þe ende be brouȝt,
& sum what of þi wille wrouȝt,
Whan king garsie is slawe or take,
Þanne is time mariage to make.”

70

Quaþ king charles to otuwel;
“Nou i se þou louest me wel,
& ȝef i leue, so mote I þe,
Þou ne sschalt nouȝt lese þi loue on me.”

71

Þo leet þe king asemblen a non,
Alle hise duzze peres echon.
“Lordinges,” he seide, “what is ȝoure red,
King garsie seiþ, i sschal be ded,
& as ȝe habbeþ iherd segge,
He þenkeþ cristendam to legge,
Wheþer wole we wenden oppon him anon,
Oþer abide til winter be gon?”
Þe duzze peres acentenden þer to,
To bide til winter were i-do,
& alle winter þe king of Fraunce,
Lette maken his purueianse.
Al þat winter at hom he bod,
& in somer to werre he rod.
Lordinges, boþe ȝinge & olde,
Her[k]neþ as we formest tolde,
Hou þe werre was fol hyȝe,
Bitwene king charles & king garsie.
Anon as winter was ygon,
Þe king a semblede his host a non,
& mochel peple cam to his hond
Out of mani diuerse lond.
Aueril was comen an winter gon,
& charles tok þe weie a non,
& drouȝ him to ward lumbardie,
To werren oppon king garsie.
Þere was set wiþ outen faille
Certein day of bataille.

72

Anoon as charles was icome,
Niȝ honde þar þe bataille was nome,
In a mede a non riȝt
Þe kinges pauilons were ipiȝt,
Vnder an hul besides a riuere,
& bi-fel as ȝe moun here.
Fol niȝ þe water þe king lay,
Of bataille for to a-bide his day,
& vppon þat oþer side,
He miȝte seen hise enemis ride,
& þere nas brugge ne forde non,
Þat man miȝte ouer riden ne gon.

73

King charles þat gode kniȝt,
Tok carpenters a non riȝt,
& lette make a brugge a non,
Þat men miȝten ouer gon,

74

Þo þe brugge was al ȝare,
Þat men miȝten ouer fare.
Hit bitidde vppon a day,
Wil charles in his bed lay,
Þat roulond an[d] oliuer,
& þe gode kniȝt oger,
Ouer þe brugge þei wenten ifeere,
Auntres for to sen & here.
& þo þei ouer passed were,
Such auntres þei funden þere,
For al þe good vnder sonne,
Þei nolde habben þe gamen bi-gonne.

75

Of garsies oft foure heþene kinges,
Wenten for to here tidinges,
For alle cas þat miȝte bitide,
Wel i-armed bataille to bide.
Here foure names ȝe moun wite,
As we finden in romaunse write,

76

Turabeles hatte þe to king,
A stout sarazin, wiþ-outen lesing;

77

Þat oþer balsamun het,
A werse man ȝede non on fet;

78

Astaward was þe þriddes name,
He louede werre & hatede game;

79

Þe ferþe king hiȝte Clarel,
Þat neuere ȝite ne dede wel.
As þei riden alle yfere,
Þat on seide as ȝe moun here;
“Mahoun leeue ous ȝit abide,
In to Fraunce þat we moun ride,
& ich miȝte roulond mete,
Al wiþ wraþþe ich wolde him grete:
Þat traitour he slouȝ mi broþer,
Ne gete ich neue[r] eft such a noþer.”

80

Roulonde herde & oliuer,
& þe gode kniȝt ogger,
Hou þei speken hare wordes hiȝe,
& þratten roulond to die;
& roulond was so nyȝ,
Þat alle foure kinges he syȝ.

81

“Felawes,” quaþ rouland a non,
“Ich am war of oure fon,
Þei beþ foure, And we bote þre,
Daþeit habbe þat hem fle;
Nou we habben fonnden game,
Gawe to hem a godesname!”

82

Anon as clarel ham syȝ,
He seide, “oure enemys beþ nyȝ,
Ich se bi here cuntenaunse,
Þei beþ cristene men of fraunce.
Charles ost liþ here bi-side,
In pauilons bataille to bide,
& þese beþ of hise men, i-wis,
Þerfore mi reed is þis,
Þat we hasteliche to ham ride,
& loke wheþer þei wole abide.”

83

Wiþ þat word þe kinges a non,
Touchede here stedes & made hem gon,
& toward þe cristene kniȝtes þei riden,
& þei douȝtiliche a-biden.

84

Astaward wiþ roulond mette,
Nouȝt he ne spak, ne him ne grette,
Bot smot him wiþ his spere anon.
Þorou þe sscheld he made hit gon.
& roulondes spere, y-wis,
Was wel betere than was his,
To astawardes herte hit ȝede,
& caste him doun of his stede,
“Aris,” quaþ roulond, “& tak þe bet,
At this time þou art i-let.”

85

Curabeles no lengere ne a-bood,
To god ogger a non he rod;
Ogger was a strong kniȝt,
& rod to him wiþ gret miȝt,
& bar a-don hors & pak,
& þe sarazins nekke to-brak.

86

Balsamum & oliuer,
Eyþer neiȝede oþer ner;
Þo balsamum bi-gan to ride,
Oliuer nolde no lengere a-bide;
He pingde his stede wiþ spores kene,
& smot a strok þat was sene,
He ne miȝte þo no bette do,
Bote gurde þe nekkebon otwo.

87

Þus roulond & oliuer,
& þe gode kniȝt ogger,
Slouwen þe heþene kinges þre,
& ȝit nolde nouȝt clarel fle:
To þe duk roulond he rood,
& roulond his strok a-bod.
For wraþþe hise felaus were islein,
He rood to roulond wiþ gret mayn,
& bar a spere greet & long;
& the sarazin was strong,
& in the sadel sat faste,
& roulond to grounde he kaste.
Wiþ þe fal þe steede a noon,
To-barst þat o sschanke bon,
Roulond vppon his feet stood,
& ne hadde nouȝt bote good.

88

Ogger sauȝ fol wel þo,
Þat roulondes hors was a go,
Ogger þat was douȝti of dede,
Smot doun clarel of his stede.
Oliuer tok þe stede a non,
& to roulond he gan gon.
“Roulond, haue þis,” quaþ oliuer,
“Þis þe sente good ogger,
& clarel he haueþ to grounde iþrowe,
For he brouȝte þe so lowe.”

89

Rouland þat hadde his stede ilore,
Þonkede hem boþe þer fore,
& wos þe gladdeste man vnder sonne,
Þat he hadde an hors i-wonne.

90

Clarel vppon his feet stood,
& fauȝt as he were wood,
On none manner he nolde fle,
Bot fauȝt aȝein hem alle thre.

91

Þe þre kniȝtes were fol stronge,
He ne miȝte nouȝt dure aȝein ham longe,
& seide to hem alle þre,
“Lordinges, let me o liue be:
To ȝou it were lutel honour,
To sle me þat nabbe no socour.”
To fiȝte more he for-sook,
& roulond his swerd he tok;
Roulond was hende & nouȝt forsok,
& of clarel his swerd he tok.

92

“King clarel,” quaþ ogger,
“Worþ vp bi-hinden me her.”
Þo was king clarel glad,
For to do þat ogger bad,
& was staleworþe & liȝt,
& lep vp a non riȝt.
Þo wenten þei forþ wiþ-outen targing,
& þoute presente charles þe king,
Wiþ clarel þat þei hadden i-nome,
& hopeden to ben welcome.
& of here weie þei were let,
& swiþe harde þei were met:
Þei sien of garsies men a feerd,
Boþe wiþ spere & wiþ swerd,
Bitwen hem & þe pauiloun,
Þere þei sscholden wenden a-doun,
Þei ne miȝte skapen in neuere a side,
Þoru out hem þei mosten ride.

93

“Felawes,” quaþ ogger þo,
To roulond & oliuer bo,
“Ich wene er we hom come,
Clarel ous worþ bynome;
Lordinges, what is nou ȝoure red,
Wole we smiten of his hed?”

94

Quaþ roulond, “so mote ich þe,
At þat red nel ich nouȝt be.”
‘No ich noþer,” quat oliuer,
“Bi þe louerd sein Richer,
On liue i rede we leten him go,
& ne do we him nammore wo.
Such cas may fallen in sum neede,
He mai quiten vs oure mede.”

95

“Bi god,” quaþ ogger, “þat is soþ,
& where he do, or he ne doþ,
Hit where sschame to ous, iwis,
To sslen a man þat ȝolden him is:
I rede we leten him gon his wey,
For we moten tenden to a noþer pley.”

96

Alle þre þei were at on,
& leten clarel on liue gon.
Clarel nolde no lengere a-bide,
He ne askede non hors onne to ride,
Bote on fote dede him go,
& leuede hem þare in muchel wo.

97

“Nou, lordinges,” quaþ ogger
To Roulond & to oliuer,
“Ich wole triste to my sswerd,
& fonde forto passe þis ferd.
Ich hope, þoru help of godes miȝt,
To se mi lord charles þis niȝt.
ȝef ani sarazin wiþ eie,
Comeþ to lette me of mi weie,
Selp me god & þis day,
He sschal abugge, ȝef ich may.”

98

“Nou,” quaþ roulond, þat douȝti kniȝt,
“& ich wille helpe þe bi mi miȝt;
I nele to day bi sein martin,
ȝilde me to no sarazin.”

99

Quaþ oliuer, “so mote ich þe,
In mani peril ich habbe ibe,
& yef ich faille at þis nede,
God ne lete me neuere eft spede;
I nele, ȝef god halt me sound,
To day ȝelde me to non hound.”

100

Þei markeden hem alle þre,
To him þat þolede deþ on tre,
& no lengere þei ne abiden,
Anon in to þe ferde þei riden.

101

A sarazin wiþ roulond mette,
& of his weie roulond lette;
He cam out of al þe here,
& bar to roulond a gret spere:
A bold kniȝt þat hatte byoun,
An[d] roulond bar him a-doun.

102

Oliuer, þat was his broþer,
He mette wiþ a noþer,
A douȝti kniȝt, an heþene man,
A strong þef þat heet bassan.
Oliuer was horsed wel,
& bare a spere kene & fel,
& smot him riȝt vnder þe sscheld,
Þat þere he lay amidde þe feld.

103

& þe gode kniȝt ogger,
Mette wiþ on, þat heet moter,
& wolde him habbe doun i-bore,
& ogger was wroþ þar-fore,
& smot þe sarazin so sore,
Þat he ne spak neuere more.

104

Oliuer, ogger, & Roulond,
Among þe sarazins stureden here hond,
Þoru help of god þat is a-boue,
Þat ham hadde þat grace i-ȝoue.
Þorou þe ferd as þei Riden,
Alle þat here strokes a-biden,
Þei were maimed for euere more.
Þe douȝti kniȝtes þei smiten so sore,
Þat wiþ-inne a litel stounde,
Þei felden mani on to grounde.

105

Þo cam a soudan, stout & firs,
On of garsies duzze peers,
Þat hatte karmel of tabarie;
Oppon þe Sarasins he gan crie,
“Recreiede kniȝtes, whi nele ȝe fiȝte,
Traitours, þeues, where [is] ȝoure miȝte?
It is sschame bi god mahon,
Þat oure folk goon þus a doun.”

106

Wiþ þis word, carmel a non
Pingde his stede & made him gon,
& rood to ogger in þat hete,
& þoute he sscholde his lif for-lete;
& was strong, & ful of tene,
& smot sore, & þat was sene.
He smot ogger in þe sscheld,
Þat ogger lay amidde þe feld,
Sore he fel oppon þe grounde,
& hadde a fol luþer wonde.

107

Þe duk roulond þat seyȝ,
For wraþþe he was wod wel nyȝ,
& for wraþþe smot him so sore,
Þat he ne spak neuere eft more.

108

Þo cam anwe of nubie,
On of kinges kniȝtes garsie,
& felde oliuer to grounde,
Bote he ne ȝaf him neuere a wounde.

109

Roulond was fol wroþ wiþ alle,
Þo he sauȝ oliuer falle,
& anawe of nubie he smot,
Þat neuere eft crouste he ne bot.

110

Oliuer ros ap fram þe grounde,
Al hol wiþ-outen wonde,
& a non his stede he nam,
& to roulond sone he cam.

111

Þo was roulond fol fawe,
Þat oliuer was nouȝt isslauwe,
Þo þei were to-gidere imet.
Þo were þei harde biset,
Amang sarasins þat were kene,
& þei smiten sore for tene.

112

Whil roulond fauȝt & oliuer,
Heuere stode þe gode ogger,
& hadde lorn his gode stede,
& his wounde gan faste blede;
& ȝit he fauȝt þere he stod,
& leide on as he were wod.

113

Whil ogger, þat douȝti kniȝt,
Aȝenes sarazins stod in fiȝt,
Oppon a stede Clarel come driue,
Þat ogger halp to sauen o liue,
Þorou cunseil of roulond & oliuer.
& a non he knuȝ ogger,
“Ogger,” he seide, “hit is my red,
ȝilte to me or þou art ded;
Þou holpe to saue mi lif a day,
Ich wole sauen þin, ȝef I may.”

114

Ogger sauȝ wel wiþ his Eye
Þat he was in point to deye,
& to clarel he gan gon,
& tok him his swerd a non.

115

Clarel nas no wedded man,
Clarel hadde a fair lemman,
Þat was hoten aufanye,
& was born in Ermenie.

116

Clarel, anon riȝtes,
Clepede to him two kniȝtes,
& seide to hem anon;
“To mi lemman ȝe schulle gon,
& segge þat ich sente hire þis kniȝt,
& þat his wounde be heled ariȝt;
& god hede to him nome,
To sauen him til mi to-come.”

117

Þe kniȝtes deden as he hem bad,
To his lemman he was lad,
Þat was hoten aufanye,
Þat was kinges douȝter garsie,
& ȝo was glad of þat present,
To do clareles comaundement.
Roulond & oliuer fouȝten,
Þat of here liues nouȝt ne rouȝten.
Þei hadden fouȝten ouer myȝte,
Þei ne miȝte no lengere dure to fiȝte,
An[d] a non turnden here steeden,
& flowen for þei ne myȝten nouȝt speden.

118

To otuwel it was told,
Þat roulond þat was bold,
Oliuer & ogger bo,
Were ouer þe water go.

119

Otuwel a non riȝtes,
Leet armen him, & alle hise kniȝtes;
Þo he was armed & wel i-diȝt,
He wente to þe king a non riȝt,
& seide, “sire, i dwelle to longe,
Roulond, oliuer, an ogger þe stronge,
Oue[r] þe water alle þre,
Beþ went for envie of me,
To loke wher þei miȝten spede,
To don any douȝti deede,
Among þe sarazins bolde:
& i sscholde be couward hoolde,
Þer fore i nele no lengere abide;
To sechen hem ich wole ride.
Þauȝ þei habben envie to me,
Ich wille for þe loue of þe,
Fonden whoþer i miȝte comen,
To helpen hem ar þei weren inomen.
& ȝif hem any harm bytit,
Let ham witen hare oune wit.”

120

Quaþ þe king, “par charite,
Otuwel, ich biseche þe,
For godes loue hiȝe þe bliue,
& fonde to sauen hem o liue,
Er þei be slawe or nome,
& þe sschal sone socour come.”

121

Otuwel no lengere ne abood,
Anon his stede he bi-strood,
& alle hise kniȝtes bi his side,
& toward þe ferd he gan to ride.

122

A non as otuwel was goon,
Þe king leet diȝte his host a non,
After otuwel to wende,
As a god king & hende.

123

As otuwel bi-gan to ride,
He lokede a-bouten in eche side,
& he sauȝ ate laste,
Where Roulond fleyȝ, & oliuer faste.
Otuwel touchede his stedes side,
& aȝein hem he gan ride,
& seide, “turneþ aȝein a non,
& helpeþ to wreke ȝou on ȝoure fon;
Þei sschulle abugge, so mote ich þe,
Þat makeþ ȝou so faste fle.”

124

Þo þei herden otuwel speken,
Þat þei sscholden ben a-wreken,
Þo were þei ferchs to fiȝte,
& tournden aȝein & were fol liȝte.

125

“Lordinges,” quaþ otuwel þo,
“Whuder is god ogger go?”
& þei answereden, sikinge sore,
“For soþe, we ne sien him nouȝt ȝore,
We ne witen where he is by-come,
Wheþer he is islawe oþer nome.”

126

127

Þere was a sarazin strong,
Þat bar a brod swerd & a long,
& was hoten encumbrer,
& bigan to neiȝen hem ner,
Oppon a muche blak stede;
& otuwel took of him hede,
& of his armes hadde a siȝt,
& knuȝ him a non riȝt:
& no lengere he ne abod,
Otuwel to him rood,
& bar him doun hors & man,
Þus otuwel gamen bi-gan.

128

Estuȝt of legers, a noble kniȝt,
Þat wiþ otuwel cam to fiȝt,
Bar a spere of tre, fol fin,
& smot a bold sarazin,
In to þe bodi þoru þe sscheld,
& þere he lay det in þe feld.
Oliuer ho slouȝ a noþer,
& þe ferþe roulond his broþer.

129

Þo þe freinche kniȝtes seien,
Þe sarasins fallen wiþ hare eien,
Þei nolden þo no lengere abide,
Þei smiten to in Eche side,
& felden sarazins faste,
& þei flowen ate laste.

130

King clarel made hem torne aȝein,
Oppon cristene men to lein,
& he leide on faste,
& þe þef ate laste,
Slou dromer of alemaine;
Þat rue fol sore þe king charlemaine

131

Erpater king of ynde was,
He cam wiþ a mase of bras,
& otuwel on þe helm he reiȝte,
So harde þat al þe heued to-queiȝte.

132

Quaþ otuwel, “so mote y þe,
Ich ne þoute nauȝt boruwe þat strok of þe;
Bi min heued vnder myn hat,
I nele nouȝt longe ouwe þe þat.’
Otuwel, wiþ a fauchoun,
Cleef him al þe heued a-doun,
& he fil vnder his horse feet.
Quaþ otuwel, “þat Ich þe bi-heet.”

133

Þo was otuwel fol of mood,
& fauȝt as he were wood.
Al þe kinges ost a non,
Foleuweden otuwel Echon,
Roulond & oliuer,
& maden a foul larder.
Þe kniȝtes leiden on so faste.
Þe sarazins flouwen ate laste.

134

Þo neiȝede it toward eue,
Þo moste þe ost bileue,
& dwellen þere al þat niȝt,
Til on morwe þe dai was briȝt.
Þo þe ost was wiþ drawe,
To resten hem, as is þe lawe,
King clarel kam in fourme of pees,
Wiþ tweie felawes, mo ne lees,
Toward charles ost, þe king,
For to wyten a tiding:
& otuwel aȝein him wente,
To wite who him þidere sente.

135

Þanne seide king clarel,
To þe douȝti otuwel,
“Kniȝt,” he seide, “so mote þou þe,
Tel me what þi name be,
Þou art so douȝti man of dede,
& mani a kniȝt hauest maked blede,
Ich wolde fol fain bi myn Eye,
Bringe þi name to þe king garsie.”

136

“Bi god, felawe,” quaþ otuwel,
“Er þis þou kneuwe my name fol wel,
So god sschilde me fram sschame,
Otuel is my cristine name:
Mahun ich habbe for sake,
& to ih'u ich habbe me take.”

137

“Allas!” quaþ clarel, “whi destou so?
So wrecheliche hauestou do.
ȝit i rede þou turne þi mood,
& leef on mahoun, ore þou art wod,
& ich wole pese, ȝef þou wilt,
Þat þou hauest garsie a-gult.”
“Fiȝ,” quaþ otuel þo,
“On mahoun & on garsie bo.
Bi him þat maude adam & eue,
Y nele neuere oppon ȝou leue.
Bi ih'u, þat is fol of miȝt,
& ich may mete him ariȝt,
Þere sschal no sarazin skape oliue,
Þat ich may hente, so mote ich þriue.”

138

“Otuwel,” quaþ clarel þo,
“Were we sumware, bitwene vs two,
Bi mahoun, þat ich onne bileue,
Oppon þi bodi ich wolde preue,
Þat mahoun may mo miracles make,
Þan he þat þou art to itake:
He nis nouȝt half, be mi croun,
So miȝty, as is sire mahoun.”

139

Quaþ otuwel, “bi godes miȝte,
Clarel, mi truþe ich þe pliȝte,
Whan euere þou wolt, hit schal be,
Euele mote he þriue þat fle.”

140

Quaþ clarel, a non riȝt:
“Bi mahoun, þat is fol of miȝt,
Woltou sikere me on hond,
Þat no man of king charles lond,
Schal do me no vileynie,
By þe deaþ þat isschal deye,
Mi conseil is a non inome,
To morue erliche ich wille come.”

141

Quaþ otuwel, “ne doute þe nouȝt.
Bi god, þat al þe world haueþ wrouȝt,
& þe deþ þat ischal deie,
Þou ne sschalt hente no vileinie,
Of no man of king charles lond,
Bote riȝt of myn oune hond:
Bi him, þat made leef & bouȝ,
Þer offe þe sschall þinken ynouȝ.”
Quaþ clarel, “þo do þi best,
To-morwe þou sschalt finde me prest.”

142

Þus þe were þere boþe at on,
Er þei wolden o twinne gon.
Eyþer oþer his treweþe pliȝte
Oppon Morwen for to fiȝte.

143

On moruwen þo þe day sprong,
Clarel þe king þouȝte long
To þe pauiloun til he cam,
To holde þe day, þat he nam:
Oppon a stede wel idiȝt
He cam fol redi to bide fiȝt.

144

King charles wiþ hise kniȝtes bolde,
Comen out clarel to bi-holde,
Hou he com al redi diȝt,
Boldeliche to bide fiȝt.

145

Clarel was bold on his bond,
For [O]tuwel sikerede him on hond,
Þat no man of flechs & blood,
Ne sscholde doon him nouȝt bote good,
Bot hem selue tweien fiȝte,
& habbe þe maistrie who so miȝte.
Þo was clarel fol trist,
For to segge what him lust.

146

King charles was an old man,
& clarel hede þer offe nam,
& seide, “charles, þou art old,
Who made þe nou so bold,
To werren oppon king garsie,
Þat is cheef of al painie?
Al paynime he haued in wold,
Þou dotest, for þou art so hold.”

147

King charles waryþede anon riȝt,
Þat clarel tolde of him so liȝt,
& hadde iment þo fol wel,
To habben ifouȝten wiþ clarel:
& bad fetten his armure briȝt,
& wolde armen him a non riȝt;
& seide in wraþþe, “by godes miȝte,
Ich mi self wole wiþ him fiȝte.”

148

Roulond bi þe king stood,
& bi-gan to meuen his mood,
& sede to þe king a non,
“Þou hauest, sire king, mani on,
Gode douȝti kniȝtes of deede,
To fiȝte þi self þou ne hauest no nede.”

149

“God sschilde, sire,” quaþ oliuer,
“Hit sscholde springe fer or ner,
To putte þin oune bodi to fiȝt,
& hauest so mani a douȝti kniȝt.”

150

King charles swor his oþ,
& bi-gan to wexe wroþ,
& seide, “for ouȝt þat man may speke,
Miself, ich wile ben on him wreke.”

151

“A! sire,” quaþ otuwel þo,
“For godes loue sei nouȝt so,
Ich & he beþ truþe pliȝte,
Þat we sschole to-gidere fiȝte,
& ich wole telle þe, wiþ oute faille,
Where fore we habbe taken bataille.

152

He wolde habbe maked me ȝusterday,
To habbe reneied my lay,
& seide, þat ich was ilore
& god nas nouȝt of marie bore:
& seide, algate he wolde preue,
Þat ich am in mis beleue.
Þere-fore he profreþ him to fiȝt,
To wite wheþer is more of miȝt,
Ih'u, þat is louerd min,
Or mahoun & apolyn.
Þous we habbeþ þe bataille inome,
& boþe we beþ iswore to come.”

153

Quaþ þe king charles þo,
“Otuwel, whan it is so,
Tak þe bataille a godes name,
& ih'u schilde þe fram sschame!”
Otuwel, þat noble kniȝt,
Lette armen him a non riȝt,
& his gode stede bistrod,
& no lengere he ne abood,
Bote to þe stede he rood fol riȝt,
Þere clarel houede to bide fiȝt.

154

Anon as otuwel was icome
Here conseil was a non inome,
No lengere þei ne abiden,
Anon riȝt togidere þei riden,
Noon oþer nas ham bitwene,
Bote gode stronge speres & kene.
Nas neuer noþer of oþer agast,
& eiþer sat in his sadel fast,
Þat boþe stedes ȝeden to grounde,
& þe kniȝtes weren al sounde;
& boþe stedes wenten forþ,
Þat on souþ, þat oþer norþ;
Þe kniȝte on fote to-gidere ȝede,
An drowen hare swerdes gode at nede,
Ne sparede þei nouȝt þe swerdes egge;
Eyþer on oþer bi-gan to legge.

155

Þei were boþe swiþe stronge,
& fouȝten to-gidere swiþe longe.
King clarel was wel neȝ wood,
Þat otuwel so longe stood:
In gret wraþþe otuwel he smot,
& his swerd felliche bot,
& þau þe swerd [nere] neuere so good,
Þe gode helm it wiþ-stood.
Bote otuwel astoneied was,
Þere he stood vp on þe gras.

156

Quaþ otuwel, “so mote ich go,
He ne louede me nouȝt, þat smot me so,
Ich warne þe wel, so mote ich þe,
Þou sschalt habbe as good of me.”

157

Otuwel, for wraþþe, a non
Areiȝte him on þe cheke bon;
Al þe fel of þat was þare,
& made his teþ al bare.

158

Þo otuwel sauȝ is cheke bon,
He ȝaf clarel a skorn a non,
& seide, “clarel, so mote þou þe,
Whi scheuwestou þe teþ to me,
I nam no toþ drawere,
Þou ne sest me no cheine bere.”

159

Clarel felede him wounded sore,
& was maimed for euere more,
An smot to otuwel wiþ al his miȝt;
& otuwel, þat douȝti kniȝt,
Wiþ his swerd kepte þe dent,
Þat clarel him hadde iment,
& yit þe dent glood adoun,
& smot otuwel oppon þe croun.

160

Quaþ otuwel, “bi godes ore,
Sarazin þou smitest fol sore,
Suþen þi berd was ischaue
Þou art woxen a strong knaue.”

161

Otuwel smot clarel þo,
O strok & nammo,
Þat neuer eft word he ne spak,
& so otuwel his tene wrak.

162

Þo was charles glad ynouȝ,
Þat otuwel king clarel slouȝt,
& ȝaf otuwel, þat douȝti kniȝt,
A god Erldam þat selue niȝt.
Al þat in þe ost was,
Maden murþe & solas,
Þat otuwel hadde so bigunne,
& hadde so þe maistri wonne;
Al þat miȝt ouer al þe ost,
Þei maden al þer ioye most.

163

Þer cam a messager & browȝte tiding,
To garsie þat riche king,
Þat otuwel, his cosin in lawe,
Hadde king clarel i-slawe.

164

Þo garsie it vnder-ȝat,
He was swiþe sori for þat.
& for wraþþe þere he stood,
Corsede hise godes, as he were wood,
& seide, “allas & walawo!
Nou is gode clarel go.
Certes myn herte it wile to-breke,
Bote ich mowe clarel a-wreke.”

165

Þo lette garsie asemlen a non,
Alle hise sarazine echon,
& þouȝte þoru out alle þing
To ben a-wreken on charles king,
& on his cosin otuwel;
& on him self þe wreche fel.

166

King charles herde be a spye,
Þat garsie þratte him to die,
& he a-semblede hise kniȝtes echon,
& sede to hem alle a non,
“Lordinges, garsie þinkeþ to ride,
For soþe i nele no lengere a bide.”
Þe king armede him a non,
& alle hise kniȝtes echon,
Þe king gurde him wiþ his swerd,
& wente him self wiþ his ferd.

167

Þe king cam stilleliche wiþ his ost,
& garsie cam wiþ gret bost,
Þo þe ostes neiȝeden nieȝ,
Þat eiþer ost oþer sieȝ,
Out of garsies ost cam ride,
A turkein þat was ful of prude;

168

Roulond was good & hende,
& aȝenes him gan wende,
Þe tourkein no lengere nabod,
To roulond a non he rood,
& gurde roulond wiþ a spere,
Þat wel couþe a strok bere;
& as douȝti as he was,
His o stirop he las.

169

Roulond was a-schamed þarfore,
Þat he hadde his stirop lore,
& wiþ dorendal, þat was good,
He smot þe tourkein oppon þe hood,
& he sey doun of his stede;
So rowlond quitte him his mede.
Quaþ roulond, “þat ich þe biheet,
Þou nult na more stenden on þi feet;
Min o stirop þou madest me tine,
Nou hauestou lose boþe þine.”

170

Þer cam a noþer stout sarazin,
Þat was armed wel a fin,
Þat hiȝte myafle of bagounde,
& wiþ a litel stounde
He made his stede swiþe to goon,
& smot oliuer a noon
Þorou out al his armure briȝt,
He woundede sore þat gode kniȝt.

171

Roulond sauȝ be contenaunse,
His broþer was hurt wiþ þe launce;
His wardecors a non he fond,
& tok a spere out of his hond,
& made his hors make a sturt,
To him þat hadde his broþer hurt;
& touchede him wiþ þe speres ord,
Þat neuere eft he ne spak word;
& tok myafles stede a non,
& sette oliuer þer on.

172

Þere was a noble sarazin,
A king þat heet galatyn,
& cam wiþ a compainie,
& bigan faste to hie.
Otuwel was war of þat,
Oppon his stede þere he sat,
Hou king galatin cam wiþ wille,
Cristene men for to spille.
Wiþ þe spores þe stede he nam,
To galatyn þe king he kam.
Þorou þe bodi he him bar,
& bad he scholde eft be war
Of such a strok, whan it kam.
Non oþer hede of him he ne nam,
Bote rood forþ oppon his stede,
& leet þe sarazin ligge & blede.

173

Þo smiten þo ostes to-gidere a non,
& fouȝten faste & good won:
& to-daschsten many a scheld,
Mani a bodi lay in þe feld.

174

Þo cam ouer þe doune ride,
An heþene king, fol of prude,
& browȝte wiþ him al ferche þo,
A þousende sarazins & mo,
& fouȝten faste a good stounde,
& felden cristene men to grounde.

175

A douȝti bacheler cam ride,
Oppon king charles side,
A ȝong kniȝt, þat sprong furst berd,
Of no man he nas aferd;
Fiue hundred man wiþ him he brouȝte,
Þat of hare lif litel þei rouȝte:
Nas non twenti winter old,
& echon was douȝti man & bold.
He hadde ichosen hem fol wide,
Bolde men bataille to bide.
Þei fouȝten faste wiþ inne a stounde,
& brouȝten sarazins to grounde:
Þei were bolde & fouȝten faste,
Þe sarazins flouwen ate laste.
Roulond & oliuer hulpen wel,
& þe douȝty otuwel.

176

Coursabex, þe king, cam þo,
& mette fleinde a þousend & mo,
“Traitours,” quaþ coursabex, þe king,
“Certes þis is a foul þing,
Þat ȝe schule fle for ferd:
Traitours, tourneþ aȝein þe herd,
Tourneþ aȝein alle wiþ me,
& we wole make þe freinche fle.”
Þous coursabex him self allone,
Made tourne hem aȝein echone.

177

Þe ȝinge kniȝt þat was so bold,
Riȝt nou þat ich offe habbe told,
Wiþ coursabex wel sone he mette,
& wiþ his swerd a non he sette
Such a strok oppon his croun,
Þat of his stede he fel a doun.
Þe ȝinge kniȝt to him cam,
& coursabex o liue nam,
& sente him charles þe king.
Þo was he glad of þat tiding.

178

Þo þe tourkeins seien alle,
Þat coursabex was falle,
& cristene men smite sore,
Þei flouwen & nolde fiȝte na more.
& þe gode ȝinge kniȝt,
Suwede & leidon doun riȝt.
Þere ne halp nouȝ[t] sire mahoun,
Þe tourkeins ȝeden faste a-doun.

179

Þo kam poidras of barbarin,
& wiþ him mani a sarazin.
Poidras oppon the ȝunge kniȝt
Leid on wiþ al his miȝt,
& here men to-gidere huwen,
& heþene hornes faste blewen;
Poidras & þe ȝinge kniȝt,
Bitwene hem was strong fiȝt,
Poidras hadde þe more mayn,
& hadde wel neiȝ þe kniȝt slain.

180

Otuwel, þat douȝti kniȝt,
Was war of þat a non riȝt.
Otuwel no lengere nabood,
To poidras a noon he rood,
& smot poidras of barbarin,
Þat þere he lay as a stiked swin.

181

Otuwel rood in to þe feerd,
& leide on faste mid his swerd.
Roulond & oliuer,
Ne[i]ȝeden otuwel ner,
& þe berdles kniȝt,
& slowen sarazins a-doun riȝt.

182

King garsie herde wiþ inne a stounde,
Hou hise men ȝeden to grounde:
King garsie hadde a conseiler,
& a non he took him neer,
& seide to him, “sire arperaunt,
Aȝenes otuwel myn herte stant,
Þat þous haueþ reneid his lay,
& sleþ mine men niȝt & day.
Sire arperant, what is þi reed
Þat þe þef traitour nere ded?
Certes fraunce hadde be wonnen,
Ne hadde his tresoun be bigunnen.”

183

“King garsie,” quaþ arperaunt,
“Bi mahoun þat ȝonder stant,
Al þe while þat roulond
Mai bere durendal in his hond,
& oliuer rit by his side,
For no þing þat may betide,
Þou ne schalt neuere otuwel winne,
For nouȝt þat euere þou kans biginne.”
Þo was garsie wel nyȝ wood,
For wraþþe on molde þere he stood.

184

Þere was an affrikan gent,
Þat hatte baldolf of aquilent,
King garsie seide to him anoon;
“Certes, Baldoff, þou most goon,
& take wiþ þe kniȝt & swein,
& tourne þe cristene men aȝein;
& ich mi self wole after come,
& helpe þat otuwel were nome.”

185

Quaþ baldolf, “bi sire mahun,
Louerd, we wole don what we moun,
& com þou after & tak hede,
Wuche maner þat we spede,
& ȝef þou sest þat nede be,
Com & help us er we fle,
For whan an ost to fliȝt is went,
Bote socour come, it is schent.”

186

Baldolf took his compainie,
& to þe bataille he gan heye,
& wiþ inne a litel stounde,
Hard bataille þei habben i-founde.

187

Otuwel, douȝti of dede,
Where þei comen he took hede,
& no lengere he ne bood,
Bote hasteliche to ham he rood.
Roulond & oliuer,
Neiȝeden otuwel ner,
& þe gode ȝinge kniȝt,
Þat was so douȝti man in fiȝt.
Þo þei foure weren ifere,
Þo miȝte men seen & here
Harde strokes dele & diȝte,
& wiþ sarazins boldeliche fiȝte.

188

Þer cam out of garsies ost,
A man þat made muche bost,
A king þat hatte karnifees,
& muchel onour þere he les.

189

Þer kam a kniȝt of agineis,
A bold man, & a courteis,
& wiþ carnifees he mette,
& wende Carnifees to lette:
King karnifees him haueþ istunt,
& slouȝ him ate forme dunt.
Þo karnifees hadde þous do,
He wende to seruen ham alle so;

190

Otuwel no lengere na-bood,
To karnifees a non he rood;
Karnifees knuȝ otuwel,
By hise armes swiþe wel,
& seide to þe gode gome,
“For-sworne þef, artou come?”
“Bi mahoun,” quaþ karnifees,
“Þou schalt hoppen heuedles.”

191

Otuwel, wiþ oute targing,
Answerede karnifees þe king,
“Bi sein geme, ich ne habbe nouȝt munt,
Þa þou schalt ȝiue me þat dunt.”
Þei nolden no lengere abide,
Anon to-gidere þei gunde ride:
Karnifees smot otuwel,
Biside þe heued þe strok fel,
A corner of otuweles scheld
He gurde out amidde þe feld.

192

Quaþ otuwel, “good it wite,
Þat strok was wel ismite.
Nou þou schalt, bi seint martyn,
Preuen a strok of myn.”
Otuwel karnifees smot,
Wiþ Corsouse þat wel boot,
Þat karnifees souȝte þe ground,
Ros he neuere eft, hol ne sound.

193

Þo þe sarazins wisten alle,
Þat karnifees was ifalle,
& þat he nolde na more arise,
Þo bigan ham alle to agrise:
For in al garsies feerd,
Nas such a man to handle a swerd.
Þo tournde þei to fliȝt,
Þe sarazins a non riȝt.

194

Þous þe gode otuwel,
& roulond þat was good & snel,
Þoru þe help of godes miȝt,
Maden þe sarazins tourne to fliȝt,
Þrou swete ih'u cristes grace,
& þei suweden faste þe chasse.
Þe sarazins were so a dredde,
In to þe water manye fledde,
Summe swumme & summe sunke,
& coold water ynouȝ þei drunke,

195

Til Roulond & oliuer þe gode,
In manie harde stoures stode.
Godde ogger in prisoun lay,
Boþe bi niȝt, & eke be day,
Herkneþ, what hede good to him nam,
& hou he out of prisoun kam.

196

Seuene heþene kniȝtes bolde,
Ogger was bi-taken to holde,
& þe foure ogger slouȝ,
& ȝit he skapede wel inouȝ.

197

Þere was a noble skuier,
Þat wiþ queintize halp ogger.
Swiþe priueliche & stille
He brouȝte ogger, to his wille,
His swerd & his armure briȝt,
& ogger armede him a non riȝt.
Þo he hadde on his gode wede,
Þe squier brouȝte him a good stede.
Ogger no lengere ne abood,
Þe goodde stede he bistrood,
Þe squier was armed, & wel idiȝt,
& hadde a good hors & a liȝt;
& also stille as a ston
Þe squier lep to horse a non,
& to þe porteres windou he kam,
& in his hond his mase he nam,
& oppon þe windou he schof,
Þat þe windou al to-drof.

198

Hit was abouten mid niȝt,
& the porter was a-friȝt,
& asked a non, who was þare,
& who makede al þat fare.

199

“Porter,” quaþ þe squier þo,
‘Vndo þe gate & let us go.
We here tellen, bi sire mahoun,
Þat cristene men goon alle a doun,
& ich & mi felawes iwis,
We wole witen hou it is,
& ȝef we ani good winne,
For soþe þou schalt parten þer inne.”
& he dude op þe ȝate wide,
& lette ham boþe out ride,
& steek aȝein þe gate fast,
& þere þei sien ogger last.

200

Ogger rood al þat niȝt,
Til on þe morewen þe day was briȝt;
Þat neuere his feet comen on grounde,
Er he hadde his felawes founde.

201

Þo roulond & oliuer
Weren war of gode ogger,
Þei were fol glad of þat siȝt,
& þonkeden ih'u fol of miȝt.

202

Þo roulond & oliuer,
Adden imet wiþ gode [Ogger]
Þei were also fous to fiȝt,
As euere was a foul to fliȝt;
& wenten in to þe bataille a non,
& fouȝten faste & good won,
& made þe sarazins a-gaste,
& otuwel nas nouȝt þe laste.

203

Þo alle foure weren ifere,
Þar nere none strokes dere,
Þo douȝti kniȝtes smiten so sore,
As þauȝ þei ne hadden nouȝt fouȝten ȝore,
Þat wiþ inne a litel stounde,
Sarazins ȝeden alle to grounde.

204

King garsie toke god hede,
Hou his folk to grounde ȝede,
& no lengere he ne abood,
Toward his pauilons he rood.

205

& otu wel a noon by-held,
Þere he rod in þe feld,
& warende fore a non þo
Rouloud & oliuer bo,
& ogger þat douȝty kniȝt,
Þat king garsie was tornd to fliȝt.
Þo roulond & oliuer,
& þe gode kniȝt ogger,
Sien where king garsie rood,
Þer nas non þat lengere a-bood,
Hasteliche þe wey þei nomen,
& to king garsie þei comen.

206

King garsie was a-fered to deye,
& bi-gan mersi to crie,
& seide, for soþe þat he wolde
Of king charles, his lond holde,
& ben at eche parlement,
Redi at his comaundement.

207

King garsie seide þis,
“For his loue þat ȝoure good is,
Takeþ me on liue, & sle me nouȝt.
Leet mi lif be for-bouȝt,
& let me as a prisoun goon
Bi-fore king charles a noon,
& don him omage wiþ myn hon[d],
To holden of him al mi lond.”

208

Þanne seide otuwel,
Þat was douȝti kniȝt & snel,
To roulond & to oliuer,
& to þe gode kniȝt ogger,
“Nou he haueþ þis ȝift iȝiue,
I rede þat we laten him liue.
Bi-fore þe king he schall be brouȝt,
For gode, we nulle slen him nouȝt;”
An þei acenteden þerto,
& seiden, “it wile be wel ido.”
& wiþ outen any targing,
Þei ladden him bi-fore þe king.

209

Þanne seide otuwel, þat gode kniȝt,
To king charles a non riȝt,
“Sire,” he seide, “her is garsie,
Þat sumtime þratte þe to die,
He wile nou, ȝif þi wille be,
Do þe omage & feaute,
& ben at þi comaundement;
& at eche parlement,
Al redi at þin hond,
& holden of þe al his lond,
& for his lond rente ȝiue,
Wiþ þe noue he mote liue.” [OMITTED]