University of Virginia Library

Alexander.

How alixandre partyd þennys.

How alixandre remewid to a flod þat is called phison.

As sone þe king sai þat it so ferde,
He dide him forþ to flod þat phison is called,
Þat writen is in holi wriht & wrouht so to name.
From perlese paradis passeþ þe stronde;
In cost þere þe king was men callede hit gena,
As was þe langage of þe lond wiþ ludus of inde.
Þere made þe mascedonius king his men for to stinte,
And bi þe banke of þe strem he biggede his tentus.
Þanne þe mascedonius men in þe men tyme
Bi-ȝonde phisonus flod saien folk rome.
For-þi bad þe bolde king þat burnus of inde
Scholde talken hem til & tidliche enquere
Þe name of hure nacion nedli to knowe;
For miche wilnede þe weiȝht to witen of here fare.
Ride miȝhte nouht þe rink ouur þe romme stronde
For þe wormus þat were bi þe watir founde.
For, out-taken .viij. wokus of al þe twelf monþe—
Þat is soþli to saie þe sesoun of iuli,
And heruest þat hastly aftyr him folweþ—
Dredful dragonus drawen hem þiddire,
Addrus & ypotamus & oþure ille wormus,
& careful cocodrillus þat þe king lette.
For skaþe of þe scorpionus askape þei ne miȝhte;
So riue romede þei þe riuer bi-side.
As prest as þe pris king sai his pres stinte,
Þat he fer wiþ his folk fare ne miȝhte,
For þe bestus of bale þat bi þe watur ferde,
& harm of þe hound-fich þat houede þer-inne,
Of þe seggus þat he sai bi-ȝonde þe side stronde
Ho dide calle ffor to come to carpen him tille.
Whan þei hurden [h]is houp hastiliche aftur
A lud to a litil boot lepus in haste,
And raþe to þe riche king romwus alone,
And aftur of alixandre askeþ his wille.
A wel-langaged lud let þe king sone
Aspien ful spedliche bi speche of þe lande,
In what kyþ were þei kid & what hit called were,
& ho were lord of hur land & ledere of alle.
“We were in bragmanie bred” saide þe burn þanne,
“& dindimus þe dere king our demere is holde.”
“Sertus,” saide alixandre “þi sawe me quemus,
Me haþ longe to ȝour land liked to wende;
Wiþ ȝou to carpe in þis kiþ couaitede y ȝorne;
For miche ludus of ȝour lif listned ich haue.”
Þanne let þe lordliche king lettres endite,
& þere-on settus his sel & siþen hem takus
To þe burn on his bot & bad him in haste
To þe king of hur kiþ carien his sonde.
Þanne whitli þe weiht ouur þe watur sterus,
And þe lettrus to his lord ledus ful sone.
As sone as his king say þat sonde him yprofred,
He hit lacchus of þe lud & lokus þer-inne;
& ȝif ȝe ludus haue list þe lettrus to knowe,
Tendeþ how þis tale is titeled þer-inne.
“Þe kidde king alixandre þat couþ is in erþe,
Þat name haþ of noblete & neuere man dradde,
Þat grete god amon in graciouce timus
Bi-gat on olimpias þe onurable quene,
Dindimus þe dere king doþ for to grete,
Þat lord of bragmanus lond & ledere is holde,
& in þis same wise saiþ & sendeþ him gon,
& til alle þat arn aftur him þare.—
We han, ludus, of ȝour lif listned ful ofte,
Þat michil ben ȝour manerus fram oþur men varied.
For ȝe non erþe ne eren þat erne ȝou miȝhte
Fode for to fare wiþ as oþur folk vsen.
On se saile ȝe nouht in sesoun of ȝere,
For to fihche on þe fom or finde any praie.
But litil leue we þat lud, i þe warne,
For-þi bi-seche y þe, seg ȝif it soþ were,
Send me tyþinge tid & tel me þe soþe,
Þat y may witen of ȝour werk & of ȝour wonus alle.
For ȝif men saiþ bi ȝow soþ þe sawe þat y hirde,
Of more meruailouse men miȝhte i nouht kenne.
Ȝif y wisdam or wit in ȝour werk finde,
Þat god aloweþ ȝour lif & likeþ ȝour dedes,
Y schal ȝour costomus, king couaite to holde,
& fonde for bi miȝht ȝour fare to sinke.
For fram þe ȝouþe of my ȝer ȝerned ich haue
Of wide werkus to wite & wisdam lere;
We weren tauht in oure time & tendide lorus,
Of oure doctourus dere demed for wise,
Þat non haþel vndur heuene so holi is founde,
Þat mihte a-legge any lak our lif to reproue.
But for y, ludus, of ȝoure lif swich a los hurde,
Þat we discorden of dede in many done þinguus,
And þat ȝour doctours dere don ȝou to knowe
Þe best lorus of lif & lawus of wise,
And we ȝou praien, sire prince prestly me sende
Alle þe lorus of ȝour lif in lettres a-seled;
And y bi-hote ȝou her vnharmed to leue.
For more may hit, in cas ȝou menske þan greue;
Whan may hit greuen a man þat mich good knowiþ
To carpe of his konninge & kenne hit til oþure?
For þe wers is no weih wis ȝif he seme,
Þouȝ he finde oþur folk folewen his dedus.
Of a torche þat is tend tak an en-sample;
Þat þouȝ ludus of þe lem lihtede an hundred,
Hit scholde nouht lesen his liht no þe latur brenne,
While þe weke & þe waxe vn-wasteþ lasteþ.
& so it farus bi folk þat fain is to teche;
Hit wasteþ no wisdam weihes to lere.
For-þi busiliche, burn we bidde þe nouþe
Wiþ-oute tariginge of time tiþinge sende
Of þat we ȝernen of ȝou ful ȝare to kenne,
To witen of þe wisdam þat ȝe wiþ faren.”
Whan dereworþe dindimus þe enditinge hurde
Of alixandre askinge as he write hadde,
Oþir lettrus he let of hur lif write,
& agyn to þe gome goodliche he sente.
As cof as hit come was þere þe king dwelde,
In þis manere dide þe man þe massage arede.

How king dindimus sente lettrus to king alixandre.

“Þe dere king dindimus þe doctour of wise,
Þat lord of bragmanus lond alosed is þare,
To emperour alixandre egrest of princis,
Þat is grimmest igrowe and grettest of kingus,
Sendeþ lettres of lowe & to þe lud writes
Miche gretiþinge of grace & grauntinge of ioie.—
Bi þi message, man þat þou to me sentest,
Whan we sihen þi sonde wiþ þi sel prented,
We kenden þi couaitise & þat þou, king, wilnest
Þe rihte-wisnesse wite þat to a weih longus.
In þat alowe i þe, lud þat þe lef were
Þe beste lawe to lere & lorus of witte;
For riht wisdam is worþ al þe world riche.
For non emperour on erþe þat euere was founde,
Þat wantede wisdam his wihes to gye,
Mihte lordschipe lache of oþur low peple;
Bute þe loweste þat liuede his lord mihte worþe,
And wiþ him fare as a fol þat failede his wittus.
Neþeles, sire noble king y þe now warne,
To oure painede peple in-possible hit semeþ,
Þat ȝe oure manerus mihte mekliche endure,
Or in þe lif þat we liue laste any while.
For oure lif & oure lawe vnlich is to ȝoure,
And al luþur bi-leue we loþen in herte.
Al þe dedes þat ȝe don discorden til oure;
For we ne grete noht þe godus þat ȝe gode holden.
Of þat þou senteste, sire king to say þe tru[t]he
Of al þe lore of our lif wiþ-oute long dwelle,
Haþel, for þin hendschipe haue vs exkused,
For we ne konne þe nouht kenne our costomus alle.
Þouȝh .i., lud, of our lif lettrus þe sende,
Prince, hit profiteþ nouht to preche of oure dedus;
Ȝe ne haue no tome no time to tende my sawus,
For ȝe so busiliche ben wiþ aboute þe werre.
But say þou nouht, sire king for sake of enuie,
Þat me were loþ of our lif ludus to teche;
For as michel as y may in minde bi-þenke,
Bi þis a-selede sonde soþliche i telle.
We, bredde breþurne in god bragmanus pore,
Leden clanliche our lif & libben as simple.
We ne wilne in þis world to welde no more,
Bute as we simpleliche our lif sostaine mowe.
We ben to penance iput & pouerte drien;
We holde hit nedful to nime þat nouht may be wastid.
Hit is no leue in oure lawe þat we land erie
Wiþ no scharpede schar to schape þe forwes;
Ne sette solow on þe feld ne sowe none erþe,
In ony place of þe plow to plokke wiþ oxen;
Ne in no side of þe se to saile wiþ nettus,
Of þe finnede fihcs our fode to lacche.
For to hauke ne hunte haue we no leue,
Ne foure-fotede best ferke to kille;
Ne to faren in þe feld & fonde wiþ slyhþe
For to refe þe brod of briddus of heuene.
& whan we faren to fed we finde no faute,
We han so michel at þe mel þat we no more wilne.
Oþir goodis to gete giue we no tente,
Ne oþir dainteys dere desire we none,
Þan oure modur of mete may vs forþ bringe,
Þat we kennen for kinde & callen þe erþe.
Sche vs norscheþ at nede & i-now sendeþ,
Wiþ-oute swet oþur swink swich as we hauen.
Hit ne is no leue in our land þat ludus þer-inne
Scholde more of hure mete þan mesure take;
For-þi sounde we be seie & sike in no time,
Bute helþe haue we hir til we henne passe.
To godus pay is our peple in bettur point founde,
Him to louen as hur lord & like him to serue,
Þan fale oþir folk ben þat fillen hure wombe,
& nimen more þan i-now whan no ned were.
We maken no medisine no no man prayen
Wiþ ony haþelene help to helyn oure bodius.
We han a sertaine somme a-singned of ȝerus,
Whan we schulle lese þis lif & laste no more;
For we mowe tellen our time whan þe time fallus.
For litil lengure a lud liueþ þan an oþir;
But bi cominnge of kynde as heuene king demus,
We schal doute þe deþ whan þe day fallus;
Bi an ordre of oure kinde whan we holde waxen,
Whan mihte lakken our limus & lesen our hete,
We schulle for-leten oure lif & leue þat þe soule
To him þat schop vs to schap schal fare to blisse.
For no cold þat vs comeþ in oure kinde age,
We ne faren to no fir our fingrus to warme;
Of bodi hole we ben & no bale fele.
Ay we founden to fle flechliche lustus;
We maken þorou mekenesse alle manir þingus
Þat mihte vs soile wiþ sinne sese in a while.
I rede þe, riche emperour ful raþe þat þou founde
To ouyr-comen enemis þat arn þe wiþ-inne;
For haddest þou fenked þe fon þat in þi flech dwellen,
None mihte þe now nye wiþ-oute.
But þou fihtest wiþ þi fon þat faren þe biside,
& hem þat in þi bodi ben ay berest wiþ þe.
But if we ony enimis wiþ-inne vs aspie,
We nolle sclepe in no sclowþe til we hem sclain haue;
Þer-for we al ouurcomen þat arn vs wiþ-inne,
We ne haue fere of no fon þat faren wiþ-oute,
Ne we agayn hem to go nol no gome procre,
Ne of no haþel vndur heuene any help seche;
We ne doute none douhtie ne no dede sterne,
Ne we no wilne no win of watur no of londe.
Wiþ trene bowus we ben on þe body keuered,
& vs findeþ þe frut fode at oure nede.
Of mylk haue we miche whon amongus our peple,
Þat we no wante no wite of wordliche fode.

How dindimus enditid to alixandre of here leuy[n]g.

Whan we ludus in þis land liste to drinke,
We turnen tid to flod thabeus is called.
Þere-of we taken a tast what time þat vs nedeþ,
And herie þe heie god with herte & with tounge.
What so we worchen in þis worlde or waken or slepe,
Or in erþeliche ese eten oþur drinke,
For his sake þat it sente soþli we worchin,
To sustaine his seruantis as him-silf likus.
We hopen haue þe lif þat come schal her-aftur,
& derely wiþ-oute deþ dure schal euere.
Tale tende we non þat turneþ to harme,
But hit be preched for prow & procred to goode.
We no spende no speche but whan we speke weele;
We ne sain but soþ & sesen by time.
We no recche of no ricchesse no renoun of landus,
No catelus couaitise comyþ at oure herte;
For þat is soþliche a sinne þat seggus haunteþ,
& to miche mischef many men bringeth.
Al we libben in loue & loþen enuie,
& hit paieþ our peple in pouert to libbe.
For we hit rekenen for riche & redileche finden,
Þat hit foleweþ oure folk til þei fare hennus.
Ay ar we in pes and armus forsaken,
& to no wikkede werk woned be we fare.
Þer nis no lawe in oure land ludus to chaste,
For we no dede no don domus to þolie.
We holden hit a vertu at hom in oure lande,
Among þe men of our march mercy vnknowe;
For we ben meved to no man mercy to gran[t]e.
We ne gilte noht god no no gome here,
Where-fore we mosten haue in minde mercy to crye,
Þat god scholde of oure gilt for-giuen vs þe sinne
Of ony wikkede werk þat we wroute euyre.
Ne we for sake of our sinne no sacrifice maken
To oure galfule god wiþ gold nor wiþ siluer,
As ȝe dulfully don to deuelus of paine,
To make hem glad of ȝoure gilt & glose ȝou here!
Alle leccheries lust vs loþeth to founde,
Or to bringe vs in brigge for to breke spouce;
Or any mis-dede make where-fore we miht aftur
Ben y-punched in paine & parte [fram] blisse.
& þus we gayn-saie ȝoure gilt & ȝour godus false,
As ȝe wolde fare by ȝoure fon þat ȝe fals knewe.
We ben rihtful of red & resoun alowen;
For-þi ne se we no seg sodainly deie;
For we ne liȝthe noht our lif wiþ no luthur dede,
Where-fore we scholde with schame be schorted of daies.
We don deie no cloþ of diuerse heuys,
No in no worschipful wede oure wiuus a-tiren,
Where-fore a lud mihte like to louen hem þe bettere,
Or þei fairere þan a-fore [to] folk miht seme;
So to hihten hem her we holden hit sinne,
To maken hem comelokur corn þan hur kynde askyþ.
Þere-fore þei haten to be hiht on hed or on face
Wiþ ony wachinge of watur or ony werk ellus,
Or fonde wiþ fals craft hure face to enoine,
For to bliken of hur ble þe bliþure of chere,
Or hem schenure to schene þan þei schape were
Of him þat lente hem hur lif & hure limus made.
For þey þat crauen by craft comelokur seme
Þan þei ben kindeli coren as heuene king likus,
God scholde þat him schop schine by rihte
For his children hem to chese þat changede his schappus.
For be he burn oþur burde þat hure bodi hihten
Oþir-wise þan it was in þis word schape,
Þey gayn-sain hure sauiour þat hem so made,
& ben aschamed of his schap & schewen hem ellus.
Þou douhty doutede king we don þe to knowe,
Þat oure bodies ne ben in no baþ wahche.
We han while we here ben hete of þe sonne,
& vs by-dewen aday þe dewus of heuene.
We ben busy of no swink nor no burn maken
For to wirchen our wil & wordliche serue.
Vs no likeþ of no lud lordschipe haue;
Non is sternere of stat ne stouter þan oþir.
Sin we ben breþeren of brod brouht into þis worde,
Alle coruen of a king þat kid is in blisse,
Whi scholde any schalk þat god schop on erþe
Haue maistrie of men more þan an-oþir?
We ne han none hous bote holus in þe holou cauus,
Vndur hillus ful hie to holden us inne;
Þere comeþ no wawe of þe wind no watur of þe rainus.
Hie boldus to bulde be we not snelle;
To legge lym oþur ston loþ is us alle;
Vs ne likeþ no lome in oure land vse,
As oþir erþliche men owen aboute.
We lin, whan us sclepe list lowe vndur erthe,
Al wiþ-oute any swink of ert[h]liche werkus;
Swich housinge we han to holde out þe wedures,
& leden þerinne our lif þe lengþe of our daies.
Whan god likeþ from lif lede vs to blisse,
We liggen doun in our den þere we ded worþen.
Þanne is vs g[r]ayþed no graue in þe grounde doluen,
But þere we lin as we laie whan we lif hadde.
Wiþ us schineþ euery schalk in schippus for to saile,
For to winne on þe watur wordliche fode.
For þei þat sailen on þe see as we soþ knowen,
In gret peril ben iput & perichen ful ofte.
We ben lered in oure land lore of no scole,
Ne to no sience i-set vs silue to wisse,
Þat mihte vs kenne in þis kiþ to carpen as wise,
But þat comeþ us by kinde; we konne noht ellus.
We ne faren to no philozofrus to fonden hure lorus;
For ay longeþ þat lore to lesinge & iangle.
Alle oure sawus ben simple þat we soþ tellen,
& for to lie is us loþ or luþurly wirche;
But swiche wordus of wise we wilnen to lere,
Þere nis no iargoun no iangle ne iuggeme[n]tis falce.
Vs ne schewiþ no schalk schamfule tacchus,
Where-wiþ we mihte mis-do or ony man gile.
We ne louen in our land no laik nor no mirthe;
But whanne we meuen our mynde mirþe to here,
We raiken to oure romauncus & reden þe storrius,
Þat oure eldrene on erþe or þis time wroute.
& whan we tenden any tale þat turneþ to bourde,
Þat were game for a gome or good of to lauȝe,
We sesen of solas & sorwen in herte;
& maken mourninge of mirthe whan men scholde glade.
Of oþur wondrus we witen in þis word here,
Þat likeþ us to loken on on þe loft heie;
We sen selkouþe þing þat is ta sain, heuene,
Þere as lem is of loft & lisse to gode;
Þe sonne set in his cours & þe seue sterres,
And alle þat seggeus mowe sen siþen on þe skiuus,
Þat to hure schappere hem schewen schining rede,
& siþen liht fro þe loft to þe land caste.
Þe side se we mow sen set vp-on erþe,
Þat in kinde colour a-cordeþ to purpre;
But whan þe watur wiþ þe wind þe wawus vp casteþ,
& þouh hit turne any time to tempest of windus,
Hit ne a-wecheþ no wawe nor no watur rereth,
As hit amongus ȝou men is many time founde
Þat stiue stormus of þe wind stiren vp þe wawus.
But here, whan þe wind haþ his hugeste blastus,
Þe clere watur he bi-clipth & closeþ hit inne.
Þer-inne soþli we sen selcouþe kindus
Of þe fletinge fihs þat in þe fom lepen.
Þere maken dolfinus dine & diuerce fihches,
Þat þere swimmen ful swiþe & swangen aboute.
We han mirthe ful miche in medus & feldus,
Þere faire placus & plain han plente of flourus,
Þat sote sauouron til us; & wiþ þe siht clene
We ben as fulsom i-founde as þouȝ we fed were.
Vs is likful and lef in landus to walke,
Þere won walloþ of watur in þe welle-springus.
Miche wilne we wende in þe wodus thikke,
For to rome vndur ris þat rif is of leuus;
Þere we mowe graspen on þe grene & gret ioie here
Of brem briddene song [in] þe braunchus a-lofte.
Þis is oure costom of kinde þat we kyþen alle,
& deliten in no dede þat doþ men to sinne.
Sire emperour alixandre þis arn oure lawes,
Boþe oure reule & our riht þat we þe rede holde.
Ȝif þou our lif wole alowe & oure lawe vse,
Hit schal þe profite, prince whan þi pres faileþ.
Hit is noht long in us, lud þei hit loþ seme,
For y haue sent þe my sonde as þou þei-self bade.
But be þou nouht, bolde king balful no tened,
Þat þou miht trystli trye þe treweste lawe.
For we schulle minnge þe, man swiche maner lorus,
Þat þou miht lihtliche, lud þe beste lawe kenne.
Whan þou hit wisliche wost wilne hit in herte,
& lowe þi lordschipe & þi lif mende.
Asie & aufrik & europ þe grete
Þou hast lowed to þe, lud in a litil while.
Þe lem of þe sonne-liht þou lettest to schine,
So brem bringest þou þi men alle in bryht armus;
& þe guldene ger þat þi gomus vsen
Wiþ þe blasinge ble blenden þe sonne.
Þou hast robbed wiþ þi rout ij. riche strondus,
Þere þe grauel of þe ground was of gold ore.
Þat on was called erenus & þat oþur large
Þe peple callede paccolus þat þou pore madest;
So fale folewen þe folk to fonde þi heste,
Þat with hure drinkinke drawht whan þei drie þirsten,
Ȝe maken stinte of his strem a stronde ful huge,
Þat nilus þe noble flod namned is wide.
So miche holdest þou þe, man of miht & of strenke,
Þat þou miht ouur oxian wiþ þin ost saile.
So wis wenst þou þe be þat þou by wit mihtest
Þorou þi maistrie miche maken to sclepe
Tricerberus þe helle-hound þat holden is kene
Boþe wakrong & wikke & wardain of paine.
Ȝe no fonde no fast but fillen ȝoure wombis,
Eten euere whan ȝe list & in ese libben.
Vn-kinde kiþe ȝe ȝou to kille ȝour children,
To queme quedfulle godus þat quenchen ȝour blisse;
& to ȝoure souorain of sinne sacrifice maken
Wiþ þat vnblisful blod þat þei bled hauen.
Miche maugre ȝe maken among many kingus,
& gret werre in þis world to waste þe peple.
Many men vp-on molde ful mek & ful simple
Þorou þe, prouede prince ful proude ben woxe.
Ȝe wene winne noht i-now on þis worde one,
But ȝif ȝe heuene miht haue & holden hit alse.
Michel gilte ȝe, gome bi ȝour godus falce,
As þei were woned in þis word to wirchen in hure liue.
For ensample, bi my sawe soþ mow ȝe fonge
Of iubiter þe ioilese iugged to paine.
He was alosed in his lif lechourus of kinde,
Þat in his licamus lust as a lie brente.
He hadde, while he here was to hordom i-eged
Gret won in þis word of wommen aliue.
For-þi ȝe holde him a god þat in helle lengus,
& þat sorwful sinne for his sake vsen.
Y prove hit by proserpine þat ȝe praisen alle,
& holden godesse god to gien ȝou here;
Hure was lecherie luf þe while hue liuede alse,
& many lud by hure lay hur lust to ful-fille.
Many men vp-on molde made hue by slithe
To haunte hure in hordom hur hole lif-time.
Of hure tenful tach ȝe taken ensample,
& ay wilnen hire wone in werkus to fonde!

How he spareþ not alixandre, to telle him of his gouernance.

Alle ȝe vsen vnrith and aftur þat wirchen;
Ȝe ben luþur of ȝour lif & lawus ȝe chaunge.
Of more make ȝe auaunt þan ȝe mow forþen;
Wis holde ȝe no whi but ȝif he wel conne
Faire tempren his tounge his tale to schew.
Miche matere of wit minegeþ ȝour tounge;
But beture holde y a burn þat bereþ him al stille.
Ȝe geduren ȝou gret won of gol & of siluer,
& miche likus ȝou lache lordliche holdeus,
& siþen many seruantis ȝou-silue to abowe,
To be keture y-kid þan any kouþ peple.
& ȝit y liue þat ȝe liue þorou lasse fode
Þan oþur seggus þat semen simple [in] mirthe.
Of richesse & of renoun romme be ȝe kidde,
& ben baldere y-wist þan any burn elles;
But oure kinde konninge ȝou ouur-comeþ nouþe
In alle dedus þat ȝe don in ȝoure daies time.
We witen, weies, ful wel þat ȝe were alle
Bremliche y-brouht forþ & bred of þat modur
Þat is stable to stonde & stonus engendreþ,
And þe erþe is called þat euery man helpeþ.
Whan god demeþ ȝou deie ȝour daies to tine,
Grauus of gret prys ȝe grayþe ȝou tille—
& but hit fair be & fin folie ȝe holden—
To legge in ȝour licam þat lodlich is founde.
& so ȝour bodies ȝe buren þat bettur riht hadde
In rouh erþe to be reke to roten hure bonus.
And by þe dedeus that men don to þe dede bodies,
Ludus keneþ huo hem louen to hure liuus ende.
We, for loue of þe lord þat we leuen inne,
None bestus i-boren balfulli kille,
Ne no tidi a-tir in templus a-raie,
No figure of fin gold fourme þer-inne;
Where-fore þe heie heuene god heren us scholde,
Whan any burn to him bad [h]is bone graunte.
But ȝe, folliche folk ȝour fals godus alle
Wil-fully worschipen wiþ wordliche godus,
For þei scholde hasteli ȝou here & ȝou help kiþe,
Whan ȝe greden ȝour grace to graunte ȝour wille,
Whan ȝe for sake of ȝoure sinne sacrifice maken,
& quellen any quik best to queme þe deuelus.
Ȝe ne vndurstonde nouht þat stounde þe storie of þis wordus,
Þat god hereþ no gome but for his goode dedus,
& for no bestene blod þat any burn quelleþ,
Noþir of kide, noþur of calf noþur of kild oxe.
But he hereþ euery haþel þat hertely biddeþ,
& wiþ mekenesse of minde minegeþ his nede.
Godus worþliche word as we wel trowen,
Is sone soþliche of man þat in him-silf dwelleþ,
By which molde is y-maad & man vp-on erþe,
& al þat weihes in þis word scholde wiþ fare;
Al bestus þer-by þat lif bere mowe,
Ben soþliche i-sustained as him-silf likus;
Þat ilke worþliche word we worschipen alle,
& hit lelliche louen as our lif likus.
God is spedful in speche & a spryt clene,
Boþe blessed & blyþe þat blendeþ alle sorwe.
He clameþ nouht but clennesse & clepeþ to [h]is ioie
Clene-mindede men þat meke ben founde.
Where-fore we holde ȝou folk folus echone,
Þat ȝe ne leuen in þat lord þat lengeþ in blisse,
& lede clanly ȝour lif & no luþur wirche,
As ȝe haþ of us herd holly þe dedus.
But ȝe in lechoures lust al ȝour lif spende,
And serue sory idolus þat ȝou in sinne brynge.
Wiþ oþur folies fale ȝe foulen ȝour soulen;
& so ȝe duren in ȝour dede til ȝe ded worþeþ.
Þanne schulle ȝe for ȝour sinne soffre paine,
For ȝe unclene bi cleped & cleuen in ȝour sinne.
Þere may ȝow borewen of bale no bost nor no pride,
No no god þat ȝe giuen to ȝour godus falce,
No no sory sacrifice þat ȝe so maken
Wiþ any bestene blod þat euire burn schadde.
Ȝe ne herien nouht herteli þe heie god alone,
Þat heuene holdeþ & haþ to his hole regne,
But al so fale falce godus ȝe fonden to queme
As a burn bereþ now in his body membrys.
For ȝe liknen a lud to a litil wordle,
& this sawe ȝe sain soþliche echone,
Þat, al so many as a man haþ membrys y-schape,
Him falleþ al so fale godus faiþfuly herie;
& so ȝe sacrifice don to selkouþe fendus!
For euery lime þat a lud longeþ to haue,
Ȝe kyþen carefule godus & kallen hem nowþe,
Aftur dedeus þat þei dede diuerse names.
Michel holde ȝe of miht minerua þe falce,
For hue foundede first folies manye;
& þis is, seggus, ȝour sawe as ȝe sain alle.
Hue was engendred wiþ gin of iubiterus hede;
For-þi ȝe holden hure wis & hollyche segge,
Þat hue þe hilþe of þe heed haþ for to kepe.
Þe iaudewin iubiter ioiful ȝe holde;
For he was wraþful i-wrouht & wried in angur,
Gomus holden him god þat gieþ þe herte;
For þere ariseþ in a rink þe rotus of wraþþe.
A god mihtful of main martis ȝe holden;
For he was fihtere fel & foundur of werre,
He is alosed in lande lord of þe breste;
For þere þe miht of a man most is i-sene.
For mercurie miche spak to mentaine iangle,
Ȝe holden him galful & god & god of þe tounge.
For hercules þe endelese þat euere is in paine,
Diuisede here on his day a dosain of wondrus,
Þat ȝe a-uowen verraie & vertuus holden,
Þat a man moste do wiþ mihte of his armus,
A god holde ȝe him helplich of grace,
Þat haþ ȝour armus to ȝeme & may ȝou ȝiue strenke.
For bacus þe bollere þat ȝe abowen alle,
Englaymed was in glotenye & glad to be drounke,
Ȝe callen him kepere of þe þrote & kinde god holden,
& wis witiere of win þat alle won bryngus.
Cupidus þe corsede þat is in care punched,
Ȝe worchen al worschipe & in þis wise tellen—

How he telleþ alixandre of his maumentrie.

Þat, for he leccherie louede in his lif-time,
And þat folie fur foundede on erthe,
A bryht brenninge brond he bereþ on his hondis,
And alle lechurus lust of þe lem tendeþ.
And so ȝe sain þat he is a soþ god iproued,
Þat haþ þe stomak in stat stifly to kepe;
For þere þe hete that men han is holden wiþ-inne,
Þat enforceþ þe flech folie to wirche!
Also, seggus, ȝe sain þat ceres þe falce
Is a goodesse god & gieþ þe wombe;
For hue tilede in hur time on þe touh erþe,
& whete soþliche sew or any seggus ellus.
Ful verrai of vertue venus ȝe holden;
& for hue lady was alosed of leccherouse dedeus,
Ȝe holden hure a goodesse god þat haþ for to kepe
Þe preuey membrus of a man þat marke is of kingus.
Iuno þe ioilese ȝe iuggen for noble;
& wei-huus sain þat he witeþ in his worde one,
A spild spirit of þe air þat may speke wondrus,
& telle what bi-tide schal of tene oþur of welþe.
Ȝe leuen alle in appolin & also ȝe tellen
Þat, for he medisine made & minstralus craftus,
Ȝe holde hin giour ful good & god of þe handus.
So þer leueþ no lime lasse no more,
Þat in ȝour power is put but parted to fendus.
Ȝe ne leuen not on a lord þat lengus in heuene,
Þat al þe membrus of a man made at his wille.
And þouȝ ȝe falce godus, folk founden to serue,
Þei ne graunte no grace but greuen ȝou ofte,
& taken of ȝou tribit þat traie is to paie,
Of ȝoure offringus alle ofte in þe ȝere.
To martis þe mithtelese men ofren in time
A gret bor & a bold as burnus han vsed.
To bacus þe balful men bringen in temple
A kide, as is costum of comine peple.
A fair pokok of pris men paien to iuno,
& him wirchen þer-wiþ worschipe vn erthe.
Þe offrin of appolin as ȝe alle knowe,
Ys a swan swiþe whit swich as ȝe bryngen.
Ȝe schullen bi ordre of vse offren to venus,
A ful derworþe douue on his den take.
Minerua men worschipen in oþur maner alse,
& bringen hure a niht-brid a bakke or an oule.
To ceres þe sorwful ȝe sacrifice maken,
& carien bi costum corn to hure temple.
Ȝe mensken alle mercurie wiþ mirthe & wiþ ioie,
& him a chalis ful chois wiþ good chere bringen.
Þe hauter of he[r]cules alle ȝe hihten,
& hit spreden wiþ spraiuus of springinge braunchus.
Cupies þe corsed wiþ comeliche flourus
Ȝe herien ful hertely & hihten [h]is temple.
Þus manye mihteles godus & mo þan y telle,
For þe hope of hur help ȝe herien on erþe.
& ȝit may þer no man in any maner wise
Wiþ solepne sacrifice serue hem at onus,
But eueri wile of a wehy his owene wone haue,
Be it bole oþur bor betur oþur werse.
Of swiche bestus þat ben of burnus y-offred,
Þei han miht vp-on molde & of no mo þingus.
Whi fauure ȝe þanne falce godus & folliche seggen
Þat þei han power of peple þat pacen on molde,
Whan þei ne han miht of no mor nor no maistrie on erþe,
But of hur owne offringe & onliche of bestes?
For ȝour errours on erthe sire emperour riche,
& for þe dedus vn-dingne þat ȝe don alle,
As ȝe ben worþi of wo whan þe word failus,
Ȝe schulle be punched & put in paine for euere!
Ȝour godus ful of gile ben þat ȝe so good holden,
On hem is help of non harm no hap of no grace,
But bochours ben þei echon ȝour body to dismembre,
& euerich pinchen his part þere paine is vnended.
As many mihtelese godus as ȝe on molde seruen,
As fale painus in fir ȝou fallus to drie.
For ȝour ydil idolus don ȝou ille wirche;
Summe to lechorus lust ȝour likinge turneþ,
Summe ȝou strenkþen to striue & straiten ȝour minde,
& somme eggen in ese to eten & to drinke.
Þei by-sette ȝou so in sinne & in gile,
Þat ȝe wirchen hur wil & worchipen alle.
&, seggus, for ȝe so don ȝe semen vn-wise,
Hem to seruen in sinne þat mowe no seg helpe.
Þei beþ vn-mihtful y-mad men for to wisse,
And kun not saue hem-self fro sorwful painus.
Whan ȝe hem greden of griþ to graunte ȝour bone,
Wheþur hey hit heren or nouht to harme hit ȝou turnus.
Whan ȝe hem praiere profre ȝif þey prest heren,
Þei casten in ȝoure consience corsede þouhtous.
And, ludus, ȝif hem loþ be to listne ȝoure bonus,
Hit ȝou norcheþ any for thei ȝou nouht heren.
So wheþur þei graunte hit or gruche þei greuen ȝou ofte,
For eueri time hit ȝou turneþ to tene & to harme.
Þo ben ȝoure gostliche godous þat gon to do wreche
Aftur ludene lif for hure luþur werkus.
For þei schulle [wreche] in þis word wirche for sinne,
Whan þat burnus ar bured þat balfully wrouthe
Tokne of þat turment tolde ȝoure eldren,
How wreche scholde ben wrouht for wrongful dedes,
& dul aftur þe deþ ȝour doctourus saide,
Þat seggus scholde for sinne suffre in þis worde;
& ȝe ben soþli þe same of wham þei so tolde,
Þat scholde lenge aftur lif in lastinge paine.
For ȝif ȝe seggus ȝou[r] lif soþli bi-þenke,
Wers wirchen no folk þan ȝe weiȝes alle.
For sake of ȝoure sauyour ȝe ne soffre no paine,
But liuen in ȝoure likinge & luþurli wirchen;
Ȝe waken for wikkednesse & wirchen but ille.
Ȝe speden for to spille men & spouce-breche fonden;
Ȝou is lechurie luf & liben wiþ stalþe,
To robbe men of hure riht ful redy ben alle.
Ȝe ben glotounius gle glad for to haunte,
& han no mesure on molde of mete ne of drynke.
Ȝe ben to þe helle-hond holliche i-like,
Tri-ce[r]berus þe tenful of wham i tolde haue;
Foure hedus ben on him þat haþ but on wombe.
& so it fareþ by ȝou folk þat fillen ȝou-siluen;
For alle þe godus þat ȝe geten of gomus vp-on erþe
Seruen for to sustaine ȝour vnsely wombe.
Also ȝoure docturus sain in sawus ful olde,
Þat an addre is in helle þat yydra is called,
To cache is couaitous corsede soulus;
& fonde he fewe oþur fale ful is he neuere.
Þanne mow ȝe ludus of lif be likned him tille;
For ȝe ben couaitouse kid & kunne nouht blinne,
But euere wenden to winne wordliche godus,
& al is, burnus, aboute ȝour body for to fede.
Alle þe foliuus, folk þat ȝe fain wirchen,
Ben purchas of penance whan ȝe parte hennus.
To bale were ȝe þanne bore for bannede werkus,
Þat schullen schamly be schent & schapen to paine.
Þus dindimus þe dere king enditeþ his sonde,
& god by-secheþ to saue þe soueraine prinse.”—
Whan emperour alixandre wiþ erene hit hirde,
& tendede þe tiþinge þat y told haue,
He was wroþ, for þe writ of wrong gan a-lose
His godus þat he held to gyen þe peple.
But nouþeles anon riht anied in his herte,
Sone sente he again his sel & his lettrus.
Wiþ-oute tariynge tid þis tiþingus come
To dindimus þe dere king þat þe dite radde.
Now liþus, ȝe þat listene wele þe lettrus to þe ende,
For þus redely þe rink a-radde þe sonde.

How alixandre sente answere to dindimus by letter.

“Þe aþel king alixandre of armus alosed,
Þat noble is & name-kouþ & neuere man dradde,
Þat grete god amon in graciouse timus
By-gat on olimpias þe onorable quene,
Ful derely to dindimus enditeþ his sonde,
& his sawe to the seg saiþ in þis wise.—
Ȝif alle þe lorus þat þou, lud in lettrus me sentest
Ben trewe to be trowen on & trysty to leue,
Þanne be ye sykur to be saf for sake of ȝoure werkus.
For ȝe ben burnus of lif best vp-on erþe,
Ȝif ȝe nouht wirche but wel in þis word here;
Hit comeþ ȝou bi custum so clanly to libbe.
Whi deme þanne þat we don no dede vp-on erþe
But sinne þat is sorwful oure soule to spille?
Whi seye ȝe seggus also þat sinne ȝe holden
Any werkus to wirche of wordliche craftus?
Whi be ȝe, ludus, so lef to lakke þe werkus
Þat man-kinde haþ y-mad on molde to be vsed?
Ȝif hit be soþ þat ȝe sain hit semeþ, by ȝoure dedes,
Þat ȝe no giuen of no gome no none godus trowe,
Or ȝe en[u]ye to hem han & hatien hur sondus,
For to libbe in ȝour land as ludus aboute.
Many wondurful wonus wisli we knowen,
Þat ȝe amongus ȝou men in ȝour march vsen.
Ȝe telle vs þat ȝe tende nauht to tulye þe erþe,
Ne place erie wiþ plow no plaunte winus,
Ne bulde boldus an hih for burnus to wonye,
Ne non erthely note nedfully wirchen.
In þat þou leredest me, lud þat ȝe no land erien,
Ȝe ben exkused echon for iren ȝou wantus,
Where-wiþ mihte ȝe men maken any boldus,
Or tren plaunten in place or any plow dryue.
Whan ȝe mow take no tol to tilien on erþe,
No swiche werkus to swinke as oþur swainus vsen,
For-þi bi-houus ȝou, haþel harde to libbe,
& wo drie in þis word for wante & for nede!
So mowe ȝe, ludus, ȝour lif leden as bestus,
In gret mischef of mete as ȝe mote nede.
Ȝe witen wel, whan a wolf wanteþ [h]is fode,
Þat he ne fundeþ no flech to feden him vppe,
Of þe erþe he et for ellus he scholde
Be wiþ hungur y-holde & happily sterue.
Þanne mow ȝe weies to þe wolf ful wel ben y-likned;
Þat, for ȝe finde no fode as oþur folk vsen,
Swich hungur as ȝe han by-houus ȝou þolie,
&, be ȝou lef oþur loþ libben in wante.
Þere-fore no like no lud of his luþur fare,
No hope for his harde lif to haue no mede.
For almus-dede do ȝe non as ȝe demen alle,
But skarsete & skaþe vn-skilfully fonden.
Ȝif we lengede in ȝoure land ful loþ were oure bestus
To ben so simple of vs silf & suffre þat tene!
We scholde folewe oþur folk & fonden echone
To a-corde of oure costom wiþ comine peple;
But ȝe han dainte in dul ȝoure daies to spene,
& ben y-sustained so wiþ sorwe in þis worde.
But ȝe ben litil to a-lowe of ȝoure luþur fare;
For nouht but nisete nedful ȝou makus!
Ȝoure owne folie, folk doþ ȝou ful ofte
In hungur & in hard lif to holde ȝoure peple.
Also ȝe sain in ȝour sonde þat soþly ȝoure wiuus
Ne gon in no gay tyr as gise is of oþure,
& þat ludus in ȝoure land no lechurie haunten,
But sparen alle spouse-breche þe space of hure liuus;
& þou ȝe wonde swich werk me wondrus ful lite!
How miht ȝe lechurie loue or likinge haue,
Whan luþur fare haþ alaid ȝour lustus echone,
Þat ȝe megre ben maad wiþ mischef & hungur?
For ȝe so simple ben seie & semen so pore,
Ȝou wantus wordliche won ȝour wiuus to hihte.
Þere-fore as bestus ȝe ben & of body chaste,
Vn-mihty, for mischef to medle wiþ burdus,
Þat nis no chariteuus chois so schast for to libbe;
Sin ȝe maugray ȝour miht mote hit wiþ-drawe!
Also ȝe sente vs to saie in þe same time
Of oþur manerus mo miche for to lakke;
Þat ȝe no stidie in no stounde ne no stat wilne
Of clergie þat clene is to claimen in scole;
& þat ȝe mercy on molde in no maner wilne,
No mercy don to no man a-mongus ȝou founde.
Þanne hit semeþ by ȝoure sawe ȝif ȝe soþ tellen,
Þat kindely ȝoure consience a-cordeþ to bestus.
For as bestes ȝe ben by no skile reuled,
Ne hem of kinde no comeþ no konninge of witte;
So be ȝe, ludus, by-lad & lawe-les alse,
Þat han no reward to riht but red-lese wirchen.
But we faiþful folk þat faren as wise,
Ben y-demed to do dedus of rihte.
For-þy vs kenneþ our kinde to a-corde in trowþe,
In swiche lawus to liue þat longen to gode;
For to sowe & to sette in þe sad erthe,
& oþur wordliche werk wisly to founde.
Sin man-kinde is y-maad so michel & so riue,
Among so perles a peple in-possible hit were—
But somme were reuled by ryht as resoun hit axeþ—
Hem-self to sostaine wiþ selkowþe þingus,
For to liue by þe land as ludus ben schape
To haue welþe aftur wo as þe word farus.
For tene sum-time tid & sumtime mirthe;
& aftur swaginge of swinc swiþe comeþ ioie.
But so, weihuus, as ȝe witen þat weduringe chaungeþ,
Now broun & now briht & now breme stormys,
So is þe wit & þe wil of wordliche peple
In selkouþe sesounus seen for to chaunge.
Whan wedur waxeþ al bryht þat wel is to like,
Mirie ben men of mod in minde & in herte;
But whan þe daies dimme ben hit doþ hem to mourne,
For siht of þe sesoun þat semus vnbliþe.
Ȝit chaungeþ wit of a weih in oþur wise alse,
Þorou þe grete de-gre þat groweþ in age.
For when he is innocent þat ille can lite,
Þanne haþ he solas of him-silf simple to worþe;
For betur likede him a bal þan a borou riche;
& he is hardy to non harm but hauntus his gamus.
Whan he is eldure of age þat auht is his strenke,
Þanne wol he prouen him proud & prys of him holde,
& wexe wilde of his wil & wikke to staunche.
Whan he is fare so forþ fer in his age,
Þan stoute is he, stedefast & stille of his herte.
Huo wole a cherched child chese for hardy,
Or a ȝoung man meek þat mirþe couaiteþ?
Huo wolde wene þat a weih woxen on elde
Were wist for vnstedefast of word or of dede?
Manie mirþus on molde þat oþur men vsen,
Ȝe leuen þorou ȝour luþur wit þat longen to peple.
Summe in siht þat we sen & sauur of mouþe,
Summe in handlinge of hond & heringe of ere,
Summe þat longen to a lud of likinge smellus,
& queminge of quaintise þat quencheþ our tene,
& in menskinge of mouþ mirþe we hauen,
In tendere touchinge of þing & tastinge of swete.
& sin we frekus ben so fre þat we frut hauen,
& al þat growus in þe ground of graciouce þingus;
We finde fihch in þe se þat vs fedeþ alle;
We lachen likinge y-now of þe lof briddus;
& ȝif ȝe wonde of þat won to winne ȝour fode,
Ȝe schulle be demed þat ȝe don dispit to þo kindus.
Þanne schewe ȝe to hur schappere schame for his sondus,
Þat so schinden his schap þat he ȝou scheweþ here.
Or ȝe han hertely hate to oure hole peple,
For we ben beture of our lif & swich bote finden;
Sin swiche godus as we sen ben sen[t] to us alle,
& nouht so to ȝou now nedful burnus.
Alle þe dedus þat ȝe don y deme þat it turnus
More to folie þan to faiþ of any ful witte.”
Þis sonde þat y said haue sire alixandre riche
Let bringe wiþ his brode sel to bragmanus prince,
& raþe whan hit rad was ful redy wiþ oþur
To þis adoutede duk dindimus sente.
Whan hit was sent to þe seg he dide hit sone red;
Now how hit goodly by-gan men, giuus tente!

How dindimus sendyd an answere to alixandre by letter.

“Dindimus þe dere king the docktour of wise,
Þat lord of bragmanus land & ledere is holde,
To emperour alixandre egrest of princes,
Þat is grymmest y-growe & grettest of kingus,
Ioie graiþus wiþ grace & gretinge of mouþe,
As to þe kiddeste y-core þat corone weldus!
We do þe namkouþe, king to kenne & to here,
Þat in þis wastinge word we ne wone nouht euere;
For erþe is nouht our eritage þat euere schal laste,
Ne we ne ben nouht ibor to abide þer-inne.
But we ben pore pilegrimus put in þis worde,
For we by destene of dome schulle deþ þolie;
Þanne schulle we hie to þe hous þat hie is in blysse,
& karre to oure kinus nie to kenne of oure fare.
We ben of-set wiþ no sinne for vnsely godus,
Ne we sitte in no sete þere sinne is y-hanteþ.
But for oure kinde consience þat kenneþ vs to goode,
We wonde wikkede werk & wende fro skaþe.
We ne sain noukt, king, be þou sur for sake of our pride,
Þat we bolde godus ben burnus to gie,
Ne enuye to hem han ne hate in þis worde.
For we ne giue vs to no gilt þat scholde god wraþe,
Ne nouht nien him her by niht no by day.
God, þat alle gomus schop & alle gode þingus,
Made here vp-on molde many manere choisus;
For maad mihte hit nouht be þere men scholde dwelle
Wiþ-oute diuerce dedus of many done þingus.
But al þat badde is for a burn here abouen erþe,
Huo so haþ chaunce to echue & chese þe betture—
As men han wit for to wite þe wikke & þe gode—
He may nouht claime to be cleped clene god of mihte,
But godus frend may þe freke frely be called;
For we leden wel our lif & louen to be simple.
In ȝoure sonde, sire king ȝe saide þis wordus;—
Þat we alle godus arn as ȝe deme nouþe,
Or euere elles til hem enuye we haue.
But þe same þat ȝe so by vs silf trowe
Longeþ, ludus, to ȝou þat liuen so in ese.
For ȝe leden ȝoure lif in lordschipe & in myrthe,
Of noble kinde for ȝe come & kid ben of grete.
In clene cloþus ȝe gon & claimen to be riche;
Al ȝoure minde is on mirþe & most vp-on goodus.
Ȝoure fingrus of fin gold ȝe fullen wiþ ryngus,
As is wommenus wone for wordliche glose.
But, burnus, be ȝe ful sur þo bostful dedeus,
Wher-fore ȝe holde ȝou her hiest on erþe,
Schal ȝou procre to pryde & to no profit ellus,
But skaþe for ȝoure vn-skile whan ȝe skapen hennus.
Gold fedeþ no gome ne no good soule;
But we þat selkouþus sen & soþus mow knowe,
And kenne þe kinde of þe gold þat corsed is founde,
We faren alle to þe flod þere we finde mowe
Gret plente of gold on þe ground ligge.
Þanne we wollen of þe watur wilfully drinke,
& de-foule wiþ our fet þe fine gold schene.
For gold, þouh it gay be hit gaynus ful lite
Of hard hongur and þirst to helpe any peple.
Haue a man neuere so miche mischef of houngur,
He may hit staunche wiþ mete & menden his paine.
Þouh þirst dreche him wiþ drouhþe drink may him helpe,
A litil wetinge of watur his wo wol amende.
Ȝif gold were to a gome so good of his kinde,
Whan men hit helde in here hand or hadde in here warde,
So scholde hit be to a burn bote of his nede,
His corsede couaytise cofly to sese.
But now, þe more þat a man may þer-of winne,
Þe more ȝernus he ȝit to ȝeme at his wille;
& he is mensked þe mor amongus ȝou alle,
For wel louus euery lud þat liche is him tille.
We sain þat ȝour sory godes of wham ȝe so ȝelpe,
Mow no manyr ded þing þorou hure miht hele.
Ȝe tenden michil in ȝour time templus to bulde,
& riche auterus riue rere þere-inne;
Þanne founde ȝe ȝour falce godus with sorw for to here,
& quellen for to quemen hem of ȝour quike bestus;
& in þat same sacrifice ȝe seggen þe name
Of what burn þat hit be þat wolde bone haue.
Þin aldur-fadur, alixandre al þis haþ vsed,
& alle kydde of ȝour kin kenden þis dedus;
Þis is amongus ȝou men in þis manere knowe;
For þus ȝe erren echon in erþliche werkus.
Where-fore, seggus, we sain for sake of ȝour dedus,
How luþurly ȝe liuen her litil ȝe knowen.
Þow ȝe wiþ sinne be of-set suffre ȝe nolle,
Þat we by-wepe in þis word ȝour wikkede dedus!
& miche, þinkeþ vs, a man menskeþ anoþur,
Þat a gome for his gilt goodly by-wepeþ.
For ho so woneþ in þis word & wol nouh[t] y-knowe
Þat him is demed to deie & doom schal abide,
Hit is riht þat þe rink be reufully ended,
& smite to þe smeþe ground wiþ a smart poudur;
As on sinful was seie þat salonienus hiȝte,
& euyl endid on erþe and wrout ful foule.
For þe lud on his lif a-losed him so noble,
Þat he heuene hadde miht with handus to reche;
For-þi boþe for hur bost ben y-brend nouþe,
Wiþ fir in þe fir-hil to fendus by-tauhte.
Þus mowe ȝe finden in fablus of philozofrus olde,
Þat spoken how þo spild men spenden hur time.”
Þus was þe lettere of þe lud þat he last sente,
& mascedonius mihty king menskliche hit radde.
Whan he þe sonde hadde seye he sente forþ newe,
Þat was to bragmanye brouht & prest for to rede.
Þanne radde cofly þe king þis kariede sonde,
Þat þus tiþinge tolde & tauhte þis wordus:—

How alixandre sente dindimus anoþur letter.

“Þe emperour alixandre of armus a-losed,
Þat noble is & name-kouþ & neuere man dradde,
By godus chaunce þat ys chose chef ouur kingus,
& of burnus y-bore baldest of mihte,
Þat amon þe grete god in graciose timus
By-gat on olimpas þe onurable quene,
By-kenneþ king dindimus in kiþ þere he dwellus,
His a-seled sonde & saiþ in þis wise.—
Ȝe sain, burnus, þat ȝe ben best echone,
Þat in ȝoure loþ-liche land libben by kynde.
For so, seggus, ȝe ben by-set in an yle,
Þat þer may comen in ȝour kiþ non vnkouþe peple;
Ne ȝe ne mowe of þat march in no manere wende,
But, be you loþ oþur lef lenge þer-inne.
& for ȝe, weihuus, of þat won wende ne mowe,
Wel a-lowe ȝe ȝour lif and ȝour land alse!
Al þe nede & þe noy þat ȝe now suffren
By a-sent of ȝour-silf ȝe sain þat ȝe dryen;
& by þe sawe þat ȝe sente to segge of ȝoure fare,
Ȝe arn liche of ȝour lif to swiche loþe burnus,
Þat ben in dep presoun don al hure daies time,
& han mirþus on molde missed ful clene!
But lawe lereþ vs & skile þat ȝe ben leþur alle,
& mow for ȝoure mischef no mede haue;
For it comeþ ȝou of kinde in care to libbe.
Sin ȝe wonen in þat won þere wante is of goodus,
Þanne, seggus, semeþ hit nouht þat ȝe so wirchen
For sake of þe same god þat sittus in blisse.
Þere-for to wo þat is wers wenden ȝe schulle,
Whanne ȝe parten fro þis paine þat pinncheþ ȝou here.
Þanne be ȝe men vp-on molde most to be-wepe,
Þat here to schame ben schape & ay schulle aftur.
Ȝit wolen wikkede men in þis word glade,
Þouȝ þei ben damned to dul whan hure day endus!
Þo þat ludus in oure land a-losed arn wise
Ȝe holde folus in faiþ & falce of by-leue;
Hit longeþ, ludus, til us ȝour lif to by-wepe,
& make for ȝoure mischef mour[n]inge sichus.
For wers faren no folk founde vp-on erþe,
Þan frekus þat no frut han frely to libbe.
God þat iuge is of ioie haþ iugged ȝou alle
To lenge aftur ȝour lif in lastinge paine;
& he haþ marked ȝou men mischef on erþe,
Þouh ȝe wene ȝou wise & wittie of lorus!
Þere-fore, seggus, as y saide for sake of ȝour dedus
Mede mowe ȝe of god in no manere fonge;
Ȝe ben vn-blessed of lif for, burnus, y warne
Þat ȝe holden so her holsome dedes
Gret wante is of wo & wikkede paine,
Þe whiche þe heie godus haten & hure hole peple.”
Now tende we to touche more of þis tale aftur;
For of þis egre emperour þus endeþ þe lettere.
Whan þis makelese man þat most was adouted,
Þe romme riden alixandre richest of kingus,
Hadde le[n]gged þere longe & lettrus þe while
Endited to dindimus as him dere þoute,
Þere his burnus he bad bulden of marbre
A piler sadliche i-picht or he passe wolde;
& þat þei wrouhten a wrytte & writen þer-aboute:—
“Hidur haue ich, alixandre wiþ myn help fare.”
Whan graue was þe graie ston þe grime king rydus,
& alle meven his men fro þe marke euene.