 | Octovian |  |
75
OCTOVIAN
76
Lytyll and mykyll, olde and yonge,
Lystenyth now to my talkynge,
Of whome y wyll yow [k]ythe;
Jhesu lorde, of heuyn kynge,
Grawnt vs all hys blessynge
And make vs gladd and blythe.
Sothe sawys y wyll yow mynge
Of whom þe worde wyde can sprynge,
Yf ye wyll lystyn and lythe;
Yn bokys of ryme hyt ys tolde
How hyt befelle owre eldurs olde,
Well oftynsythe.
Lystenyth now to my talkynge,
Of whome y wyll yow [k]ythe;
Jhesu lorde, of heuyn kynge,
Grawnt vs all hys blessynge
And make vs gladd and blythe.
Sothe sawys y wyll yow mynge
Of whom þe worde wyde can sprynge,
Yf ye wyll lystyn and lythe;
Yn bokys of ryme hyt ys tolde
How hyt befelle owre eldurs olde,
Well oftynsythe.
Sometyme felle aventure,
In Rome ther was an emperowre,
In romans as we rede;
He was a man of grete fauour,
He leuyd in yoye and gret honour,
And doghty was in dede.
In turnament and yn fyght
Yn the worlde was not a bettur knyght
Then he was vndur wede.
Octavyan hys name hyght;
He was a man of moche myght,
And bolde at euery nede.
In Rome ther was an emperowre,
In romans as we rede;
He was a man of grete fauour,
He leuyd in yoye and gret honour,
And doghty was in dede.
In turnament and yn fyght
Yn the worlde was not a bettur knyght
Then he was vndur wede.
Octavyan hys name hyght;
He was a man of moche myght,
And bolde at euery nede.
An emperes he had to wyfe,
The feyrest þat myght bere lyfe:
These clerkys seyn soo.
Sevyn yere togedur had þey ben
Wyth yoye and game þem betwene,
And othur myrthys moo.
Tho the sevyn yerys were all goon
Chylde myght they gete noon
That tyme betwene them twoo,
That aftur hym hys londys schulde welde;
Therfore grete sorowe drewe þem to elde,
Yn herte he was full woo.
The feyrest þat myght bere lyfe:
These clerkys seyn soo.
Sevyn yere togedur had þey ben
Wyth yoye and game þem betwene,
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Tho the sevyn yerys were all goon
Chylde myght they gete noon
That tyme betwene them twoo,
That aftur hym hys londys schulde welde;
Therfore grete sorowe drewe þem to elde,
Yn herte he was full woo.
The emperowre, on a day,
In hys bedd as he lay
Wyth hys lady bryght,
He behelde hur feyre lere
That was bryght os blossom on brere,
And semely in hys syght.
A sorowe to hys herte ranne
That chylde togedur þey myȝt noon han,
Hys londe to ye[m]e and ryght.
Be hys lady as he sete,
For woo hys chekys waxe all wete,
That was so hende a knyght.
In hys bedd as he lay
Wyth hys lady bryght,
He behelde hur feyre lere
That was bryght os blossom on brere,
And semely in hys syght.
A sorowe to hys herte ranne
That chylde togedur þey myȝt noon han,
Hys londe to ye[m]e and ryght.
Be hys lady as he sete,
For woo hys chekys waxe all wete,
That was so hende a knyght.
When the lady can hyt see,
Chaunge sche dud hur feyre blee
And syghyd wondur sare;
Sche felle on kneys hym agayne,
And of hys sorowe sche can hym frayne,
And of hys mekyll care:
‘For yf that hyt were yowre wylle,
Yowre counsell for to schewe me tyll
Of yowre lyuys fare;
Ye wott y am youre worldys fere,
Youre thoght to me ye myght dyskeuyr,
Youre comfort were the mare.’
Chaunge sche dud hur feyre blee
And syghyd wondur sare;
Sche felle on kneys hym agayne,
And of hys sorowe sche can hym frayne,
And of hys mekyll care:
‘For yf that hyt were yowre wylle,
Yowre counsell for to schewe me tyll
Of yowre lyuys fare;
Ye wott y am youre worldys fere,
Youre thoght to me ye myght dyskeuyr,
Youre comfort were the mare.’
In hys armes he can hur folde
And hys cownsell to hur tolde,
And of hys hertys wownde:
‘Now haue we sevyn yere togedur byn,
And we no chylde haue vs betwen,
And here we schall not leue but a stownde.
Y wott not how thys londe schall fare
But leue in warre, in sorowe and care,
When we are broght to grownde.
Therfore y haue so mekyll thoght
That when y am to bedd broght
Y slepe but selden sownde.’
And hys cownsell to hur tolde,
And of hys hertys wownde:
‘Now haue we sevyn yere togedur byn,
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And here we schall not leue but a stownde.
Y wott not how thys londe schall fare
But leue in warre, in sorowe and care,
When we are broght to grownde.
Therfore y haue so mekyll thoght
That when y am to bedd broght
Y slepe but selden sownde.’
Than answeryd that lady bryght,
‘Syr, y can yow rede aryght:
Yf yow nothyng to ylle.
A ryche abbey schall we make
For owre dere lady sake,
And londys geue thertylle.
Sche wyll prey hur sone feyre
That we togedur may haue an heyre,
Thys londe to welde at wylle.’
They let make an abbey thoo;
The lady was wyth chyldren twoo,
As hyt was Goddys wylle.
‘Syr, y can yow rede aryght:
Yf yow nothyng to ylle.
A ryche abbey schall we make
For owre dere lady sake,
And londys geue thertylle.
Sche wyll prey hur sone feyre
That we togedur may haue an heyre,
Thys londe to welde at wylle.’
They let make an abbey thoo;
The lady was wyth chyldren twoo,
As hyt was Goddys wylle.
Wyth chylde waxe the lady thore;
Grete sche was wyth peynys sore,
That was bothe hende and free;
Tyll tyme felle þat hyt was soo
The lady had menchyldren two,
That semely were to see.
Tythyngys come to the emperowre
As he lay in hys towre:
A gladd man was hee.
Two maydenys þe errande hym broght—
Wythowt gyftys yede they noght:
Eyther he gafe townys three.
Grete sche was wyth peynys sore,
That was bothe hende and free;
Tyll tyme felle þat hyt was soo
The lady had menchyldren two,
That semely were to see.
Tythyngys come to the emperowre
As he lay in hys towre:
A gladd man was hee.
Two maydenys þe errande hym broght—
Wythowt gyftys yede they noght:
Eyther he gafe townys three.
The emperowre was full blyþe of mode;
To hys chapell swythe he yode
And thanked God of hys sonde.
Yerly when the day can sprynge,
A preest he dud a masse synge;
Hys modur there he fonde.
‘Sone,’ sche seyde, ‘y am blythe
That the emperes schall haue lyue,
And leue wyth vs in londe;
But moche sorowe deryth mee
That Rome schall wrong heyred bee,
In vnkynde honde.’
To hys chapell swythe he yode
And thanked God of hys sonde.
Yerly when the day can sprynge,
A preest he dud a masse synge;
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‘Sone,’ sche seyde, ‘y am blythe
That the emperes schall haue lyue,
And leue wyth vs in londe;
But moche sorowe deryth mee
That Rome schall wrong heyred bee,
In vnkynde honde.’
‘Modur,’ he seyde, ‘why sey ye soo?
Now haue we menchyldren two,
Ythankyd be Goddys wylle!’
‘Nay,’ sche seyde, ‘sone myne,
Ther ys neuyr neyþyr of þem thyn:
That lykyth me full ylle.
For thou myght no chylde haue,
Thy wyfe hath take a cokys knaue;
That wyll y proue be skylle.’
A sorowe to the emperowrs herte ranne,
That worde cowde he speke noon,
But yede awey full stylle.
Now haue we menchyldren two,
Ythankyd be Goddys wylle!’
‘Nay,’ sche seyde, ‘sone myne,
Ther ys neuyr neyþyr of þem thyn:
That lykyth me full ylle.
For thou myght no chylde haue,
Thy wyfe hath take a cokys knaue;
That wyll y proue be skylle.’
A sorowe to the emperowrs herte ranne,
That worde cowde he speke noon,
But yede awey full stylle.
To hys chapell forthe he yode
And at hys masse stylle he stode,
As man that was in care.
The emperowrs modur let calle a knaue
And hym behett grete mede to haue—
A thowsande pownde and mare.
To the chaumbur the knaue toke þe way,
There as the emperes in chyldebedd lay,
All slepte that there were;
For why they had wakyd longe
In peynys, and in sorowe stronge,
Or sche were delyuyrd thare.
And at hys masse stylle he stode,
As man that was in care.
The emperowrs modur let calle a knaue
And hym behett grete mede to haue—
A thowsande pownde and mare.
To the chaumbur the knaue toke þe way,
There as the emperes in chyldebedd lay,
All slepte that there were;
For why they had wakyd longe
In peynys, and in sorowe stronge,
Or sche were delyuyrd thare.
‘Haste the, knaue, wyth all thy myght
Preuely that thou were dyght,
And that thou were vncladd;
Softly be hur yn thou crepe
That þou wake hur not of hur slepe,
For seke sche ys bestadd!’
Hastyly was the knaue vncladd,
In he went, as sche hym badd,
Into the ryche bedde;
And euyr he drewe hym away,
For the ryches that he in lay—
Sore he was adredd.
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And that thou were vncladd;
Softly be hur yn thou crepe
That þou wake hur not of hur slepe,
For seke sche ys bestadd!’
Hastyly was the knaue vncladd,
In he went, as sche hym badd,
Into the ryche bedde;
And euyr he drewe hym away,
For the ryches that he in lay—
Sore he was adredd.
The emperowrs modur awey went than,
To hur sone swythe sche wan
At masse there as he stode.
‘Sone,’ sche seyde, ‘thou trowest not me;
Now thou mayste the sothe see.’
To the chaumbur wyth hur he yode.
When he sawe that syght than
Sorowe to hys herte ranne,
And nerehonde waxe he wode.
The knaue he slewe in the bedd:
The ryche clothys were all bebledd
Of that gyltles blode.
To hur sone swythe sche wan
At masse there as he stode.
‘Sone,’ sche seyde, ‘thou trowest not me;
Now thou mayste the sothe see.’
To the chaumbur wyth hur he yode.
When he sawe that syght than
Sorowe to hys herte ranne,
And nerehonde waxe he wode.
The knaue he slewe in the bedd:
The ryche clothys were all bebledd
Of that gyltles blode.
Euyr lay the lady faste aslepe;
A dylfull sweuyn can sche mete,
That was so swete a wyght.
Sche thoght sche was in wyldyrnes,
Yn thornes and in derkenes,
That sche myght haue no syght.
There come fleyng ouyr the stronde
A dragon, all wyth fyre brennand,
That all the londe was bryght;
In hys palmes all brennyng bloo
Vp he toke hur chyldren twoo,
And away he toke hys flyght.
A dylfull sweuyn can sche mete,
That was so swete a wyght.
Sche thoght sche was in wyldyrnes,
Yn thornes and in derkenes,
That sche myght haue no syght.
There come fleyng ouyr the stronde
A dragon, all wyth fyre brennand,
That all the londe was bryght;
In hys palmes all brennyng bloo
Vp he toke hur chyldren twoo,
And away he toke hys flyght.
When the lady can awake
A dylfull gronyng can sche make:
The lasse was hur care.
The emperowre toke vp the grome,
The herre in hys honde he nome:
The hede smote of thare.
He caste hyt ageyne into the bedd,
The ryche clothys were all bebledd,
Of redd golde there they ware.
The grete treson that þere was wroght,
The lady slept and wyste hyt noght:
Hur comfort was the mare.
A dylfull gronyng can sche make:
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The emperowre toke vp the grome,
The herre in hys honde he nome:
The hede smote of thare.
He caste hyt ageyne into the bedd,
The ryche clothys were all bebledd,
Of redd golde there they ware.
The grete treson that þere was wroght,
The lady slept and wyste hyt noght:
Hur comfort was the mare.
Wordys of thys were spoke no moo
Tyll the emperes to churche was goo,
As lawe was in lede.
The emperowre made a feste, y vndurstonde,
Of kyngys that were of farre londe,
And lordys of dyuers stede.
The kyng of Calabur, wythowt lees,
That the ladys fadur was,
Thethur was he bede.
All they semblyd on a day,
Wyth myrthe, game and wyth play,
Whan the lady to churche yede.
Tyll the emperes to churche was goo,
As lawe was in lede.
The emperowre made a feste, y vndurstonde,
Of kyngys that were of farre londe,
And lordys of dyuers stede.
The kyng of Calabur, wythowt lees,
That the ladys fadur was,
Thethur was he bede.
All they semblyd on a day,
Wyth myrthe, game and wyth play,
Whan the lady to churche yede.
Kyngys dwellyd then all in same:
There was yoye and moche game
At that grete mangery,
Wyth gode metys them amonge,
Harpe, pype and mery songe,
Bothe lewte and sawtre.
When the sevyn nyght was all goon
Wyth allkyn welthe in that won,
And mery mynstralsy,
Ther was neuyr so ryche a getherynge
That had so sory a pertynge,
I wyll yow telle forwhy.
There was yoye and moche game
At that grete mangery,
Wyth gode metys them amonge,
Harpe, pype and mery songe,
Bothe lewte and sawtre.
When the sevyn nyght was all goon
Wyth allkyn welthe in that won,
And mery mynstralsy,
Ther was neuyr so ryche a getherynge
That had so sory a pertynge,
I wyll yow telle forwhy.
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Grete dele hyt ys to telle
On the nynthe day what befelle:
Lystenyth, and ye schall here!
The emperowre to chaumbur yode,
All the kyngys abowte hym stode,
Wyth full gladd chere.
The emperowre seyde, there he can stonde,
Soche auenture felle in that londe
Of a lady in that yere,
Wyth soche a treson was take and teynt;
He askyd wh[at] maner jugement
That sche worthy were.
On the nynthe day what befelle:
Lystenyth, and ye schall here!
The emperowre to chaumbur yode,
All the kyngys abowte hym stode,
Wyth full gladd chere.
The emperowre seyde, there he can stonde,
Soche auenture felle in that londe
Of a lady in that yere,
Wyth soche a treson was take and teynt;
He askyd wh[at] maner jugement
That sche worthy were.
When the emperowre had hys tale tolde,
The kyng of Calabur answere wolde—
He wyste not what hyt mente.
He seyde, ‘Hyt ys worthy for hur sake
Wythowt the cyté a fyre to make,
Be ryghtwyse yugement;
When þe fyre were brennyng faste,
Sche and hur two chyldren þerin to be caste,
And to dethe to be brente.’
The emperowre answeryd hym full sone:
‘Thyn own doghtur hyt hath done:
Y holde to thyn assent.’
The kyng of Calabur answere wolde—
He wyste not what hyt mente.
He seyde, ‘Hyt ys worthy for hur sake
Wythowt the cyté a fyre to make,
Be ryghtwyse yugement;
When þe fyre were brennyng faste,
Sche and hur two chyldren þerin to be caste,
And to dethe to be brente.’
The emperowre answeryd hym full sone:
‘Thyn own doghtur hyt hath done:
Y holde to thyn assent.’
There was dele and grete pyté;
A feyre they made wythowt the cyté,
Wyth brondys brennyng all bryght.
To the fyre they ledd þat lady thare—
Two squyers hur chyldren bare,
That semely were in syght;
In a kyrtull of scarlett redd,
In the fyre to take hur dedd,
Redy was sche dyght.
The kyng of Calabur made euyll chere,
For dele he myȝt not stonde hys doghtur nere;
There wept both kynge and knyght.
A feyre they made wythowt the cyté,
Wyth brondys brennyng all bryght.
To the fyre they ledd þat lady thare—
Two squyers hur chyldren bare,
That semely were in syght;
In a kyrtull of scarlett redd,
In the fyre to take hur dedd,
Redy was sche dyght.
The kyng of Calabur made euyll chere,
For dele he myȝt not stonde hys doghtur nere;
There wept both kynge and knyght.
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The lady sawe no bettur redd
But that sche schulde be dedd
That day vpon the fylde.
Wyth sory hert, the sothe to telle,
Before þe emperowre on kneys sche felle
And bothe hur hondys vphelde.
‘Grawnt me, lorde, for Jhesu sake,
Oon oryson that y may make
To hym that all may welde,
And sythen on me do yowre wylle:
What dethe þat ye wyll put me tyll,
Therto y wyll me ȝelde.’
But that sche schulde be dedd
That day vpon the fylde.
Wyth sory hert, the sothe to telle,
Before þe emperowre on kneys sche felle
And bothe hur hondys vphelde.
‘Grawnt me, lorde, for Jhesu sake,
Oon oryson that y may make
To hym that all may welde,
And sythen on me do yowre wylle:
What dethe þat ye wyll put me tyll,
Therto y wyll me ȝelde.’
The lady on hur kneys hur sett,
To Jhesu Cryste full sore sche wepte:
What wondur was hyt þogh she were woo.
‘Jhesu,’ sche seyde, ‘kynge of blysse,
Thys day thou me rede and wysse,
And heuene qwene alsoo.
Mary, mayden and modur free,
My preyer wyll y make to thee
For my chyldren twoo;
As thou lett them be borne of mee,
Grawnt that they may crystenyd bee,
To dethe or that they goo.’
To Jhesu Cryste full sore sche wepte:
What wondur was hyt þogh she were woo.
‘Jhesu,’ sche seyde, ‘kynge of blysse,
Thys day thou me rede and wysse,
And heuene qwene alsoo.
Mary, mayden and modur free,
My preyer wyll y make to thee
For my chyldren twoo;
As thou lett them be borne of mee,
Grawnt that they may crystenyd bee,
To dethe or that they goo.’
Kyngys and qwenys abowte hur were;
Ladys felle in swownyng there,
And knyghtys stode wepande.
The emperowre hur lorde stode hur nere,
The terys tryllyd downe on hys lere,
Full sory can he stande.
The emperowre spake a worde of pyté:
‘Dame, thy dethe y wyll not see
Wyth herte nothur wyth hande.’
The emperowre gaf hur leue to goo
And wyth hur to take hur chyldren two,
And flee owt of hys londe.
Ladys felle in swownyng there,
And knyghtys stode wepande.
The emperowre hur lorde stode hur nere,
The terys tryllyd downe on hys lere,
Full sory can he stande.
The emperowre spake a worde of pyté:
‘Dame, thy dethe y wyll not see
Wyth herte nothur wyth hande.’
The emperowre gaf hur leue to goo
And wyth hur to take hur chyldren two,
And flee owt of hys londe.
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The emperowre gaf hur fowrty pownde
Of florens that were rownde,
In yeste as we rede;
And betoke hur knyghtys twoo,
And gaf hur þe golde and badd hur goo,
Owt of hys londe to lede.
The knyghtys the chyldren bare
There the hye weyes ware,
And forthe full swythe they yede.
The kyngys from the parlement,
Eche man to hys own londe went:
For sorowe ther hertys can blede.
Of florens that were rownde,
In yeste as we rede;
And betoke hur knyghtys twoo,
And gaf hur þe golde and badd hur goo,
Owt of hys londe to lede.
The knyghtys the chyldren bare
There the hye weyes ware,
And forthe full swythe they yede.
The kyngys from the parlement,
Eche man to hys own londe went:
For sorowe ther hertys can blede.
Tho the lady come to a wyldurnes
That full of wylde bestys was,
The wode was grete and streyght.
The knyghtys toke hur þere þe chyldren twoo,
And gaf hur the golde and badd hur goo
The way þat lay forthe ryght.
They badd hur holde þe hye strete
For drede of wylde beestys for to mete,
That mekyll were of myght.
Ageyne they went wyth sory mode;
The lady aloon forthe sche yode,
As a wofull wyght.
That full of wylde bestys was,
The wode was grete and streyght.
The knyghtys toke hur þere þe chyldren twoo,
And gaf hur the golde and badd hur goo
The way þat lay forthe ryght.
They badd hur holde þe hye strete
For drede of wylde beestys for to mete,
That mekyll were of myght.
Ageyne they went wyth sory mode;
The lady aloon forthe sche yode,
As a wofull wyght.
So had sche wepte there beforne
That the ryght wey had sche lorne—
So moche sche was in thoght—
Ynto a wode was veryly thykk,
There cleuys were and weyes wyck,
And hur wey fonde sche noght.
Yn a clyff vndur an hylle
There sche fonde a full feyre welle,
In a herber redy wroght,
Wyth olyfe treys was the herber sett;
The lady sett hur downe & wepte,
Further myght sche noght.
That the ryght wey had sche lorne—
So moche sche was in thoght—
Ynto a wode was veryly thykk,
There cleuys were and weyes wyck,
And hur wey fonde sche noght.
Yn a clyff vndur an hylle
There sche fonde a full feyre welle,
In a herber redy wroght,
Wyth olyfe treys was the herber sett;
The lady sett hur downe & wepte,
Further myght sche noght.
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The lady by the welle hur sett,
To Jhesu Cryste sore sche grett:
No further myght sche gone.
‘Lorde kynge,’ sche seyde, ‘of heuyn blys,
Thys day þou me rede and wysse:
Full weyle y am of won.
Mary modur, maydyn free,
My preyer wyll y make to the,
Thou mende my sorowfull mone.
So full y am of sorowe and care
That thre dayes are goon and mare,
That mete ete y noon.’
To Jhesu Cryste sore sche grett:
No further myght sche gone.
‘Lorde kynge,’ sche seyde, ‘of heuyn blys,
Thys day þou me rede and wysse:
Full weyle y am of won.
Mary modur, maydyn free,
My preyer wyll y make to the,
Thou mende my sorowfull mone.
So full y am of sorowe and care
That thre dayes are goon and mare,
That mete ete y noon.’
Be that sche had hur chyldren dyght,
Hyt was woxe derke nyght,
As sche sate be the welle.
In the erber downe sche lay
Tyll hyt was dawnyng of the day,
That fowlys herde sche ȝelle.
There came an ape to seke hur pray,
Hur oon chylde sche bare away
On an hye hylle.
What wondur was thogh sche were woo?
The ape bare the chylde hur froo:
In swownyng downe sche felle.
Hyt was woxe derke nyght,
As sche sate be the welle.
In the erber downe sche lay
Tyll hyt was dawnyng of the day,
That fowlys herde sche ȝelle.
There came an ape to seke hur pray,
Hur oon chylde sche bare away
On an hye hylle.
What wondur was thogh sche were woo?
The ape bare the chylde hur froo:
In swownyng downe sche felle.
In all the sorowe that sche in was,
There come rennyng a lyenas,
Os wode as sche wolde wede.
In swownyng as the lady lay,
Hur wodur chylde sche bare away,
Hur whelpys wyth to fede.
What wondur was þogh sche woo ware?
The wylde beestys hur chyldyr away bare:
For sorowe hur herte can blede.
The lady sett hur on a stone
Besyde the welle, and made hur mone,
And syghyng forthe sche yede.
There come rennyng a lyenas,
Os wode as sche wolde wede.
In swownyng as the lady lay,
Hur wodur chylde sche bare away,
Hur whelpys wyth to fede.
What wondur was þogh sche woo ware?
The wylde beestys hur chyldyr away bare:
For sorowe hur herte can blede.
The lady sett hur on a stone
Besyde the welle, and made hur mone,
And syghyng forthe sche yede.
96
There came a fowle þat was feyre of flyght,
A gryffyn, he was callyd be ryght,
Ouyr the holtys hore.
The fowle was so moche of myght
That he wolde bare a knyght,
Well armyd thogh he ware.
The lyenas wyth þe chylde vp toke he,
And into an yle of the see
Bothe he them bare.
The chylde slept in þe lyenas mowthe,
Of wele nor wo noþyng hyt knowyth,
But God kepe hyt from care!
A gryffyn, he was callyd be ryght,
Ouyr the holtys hore.
The fowle was so moche of myght
That he wolde bare a knyght,
Well armyd thogh he ware.
The lyenas wyth þe chylde vp toke he,
And into an yle of the see
Bothe he them bare.
The chylde slept in þe lyenas mowthe,
Of wele nor wo noþyng hyt knowyth,
But God kepe hyt from care!
Whan þe lyenas had a fote on londe
Hastyly sche can vpstonde,
As a beste þat was stronge and wylde.
Thorow Goddys grace þe gryffyn she slowe,
And sythen ete of the flesche ynowe
And leyde hur downe be the chylde.
The chylde soke the lyenas,
As hyt Goddys wylle was,
Whan hyt the pappys feled.
And when the lyenas began to wake,
Sche louyd þe chylde for hur whelpys sake,
And therwyth sche was full mylde.
Hastyly sche can vpstonde,
As a beste þat was stronge and wylde.
Thorow Goddys grace þe gryffyn she slowe,
And sythen ete of the flesche ynowe
And leyde hur downe be the chylde.
The chylde soke the lyenas,
As hyt Goddys wylle was,
Whan hyt the pappys feled.
And when the lyenas began to wake,
Sche louyd þe chylde for hur whelpys sake,
And therwyth sche was full mylde.
Wyth hur fete sche made a denne
And leyde the lytull chylde theryn,
And kepte hyt day and nyght.
And when þe lyenas hungurd sore
Sche ete of the gryffyn more,
That afore was stronge and wyght.
As hyt was Goddys owne wylle,
The lyenas belafte the chylde stylle:
The chylde was feyre and bryght.
The lady sett hur on a stone
Besyde the welle, and made hur mone,
As a wofull wyght.
And leyde the lytull chylde theryn,
And kepte hyt day and nyght.
And when þe lyenas hungurd sore
Sche ete of the gryffyn more,
That afore was stronge and wyght.
As hyt was Goddys owne wylle,
The lyenas belafte the chylde stylle:
The chylde was feyre and bryght.
The lady sett hur on a stone
Besyde the welle, and made hur mone,
As a wofull wyght.
‘Jhesu,’ sche seyde, ‘kynge of blys,
Thys day þou me rede and wysse:
Of all kyngys thou art flowre.
As y was kyngys doghtur and qwene,
And emperes of Rome haue bene,
Of many a ryche towre,
Thorow þe lesyng þat ys on me wroght
To moche sorowe y am broght,
And owt of myn honowre.
The worldys wele y haue forlorne,
And my two chyldren be fro me borne:
Thys lyfe y may not dewre.
98
Of all kyngys thou art flowre.
As y was kyngys doghtur and qwene,
And emperes of Rome haue bene,
Of many a ryche towre,
Thorow þe lesyng þat ys on me wroght
To moche sorowe y am broght,
And owt of myn honowre.
The worldys wele y haue forlorne,
And my two chyldren be fro me borne:
Thys lyfe y may not dewre.
‘Lorde, the sorowe that y am ynne
Well y wot hyt ys for my synne:
Welcome be thy sonde!
To the worlde y wyll me neuyr yeue,
But serue the, lorde, whyll y leue,
Into the Holy Londe.’
Downe be an hylle þe wey she name
And to the Grekeysch see sche came,
And walkyd on the stronde.
Beforne hur an hauen þere she sye,
And a ceté wyth towrys hye,
All redy there sche fonde.
Well y wot hyt ys for my synne:
Welcome be thy sonde!
To the worlde y wyll me neuyr yeue,
But serue the, lorde, whyll y leue,
Into the Holy Londe.’
Downe be an hylle þe wey she name
And to the Grekeysch see sche came,
And walkyd on the stronde.
Beforne hur an hauen þere she sye,
And a ceté wyth towrys hye,
All redy there sche fonde.
When sche come to the ryche towne
A schyppe sche fonde all redy bowne,
Wyth pylgrymys forthe to fare;
Sche badd the schyppman golde and fee
In hys schypp that sche myght bee,
Yf hys wylle ware.
A bote they sende ouyr the flode
To the lady there sche stode,
A wyght man in hur bare.
By the maste þey badd hur sytte;
Of hur wo myght noman wytt,
But euyr sche wept full sare.
A schyppe sche fonde all redy bowne,
Wyth pylgrymys forthe to fare;
Sche badd the schyppman golde and fee
In hys schypp that sche myght bee,
Yf hys wylle ware.
A bote they sende ouyr the flode
To the lady there sche stode,
A wyght man in hur bare.
By the maste þey badd hur sytte;
Of hur wo myght noman wytt,
But euyr sche wept full sare.
100
The schypp come be an yle syde,
The schyppman bade þem þere abyde:
‘Fresche watur haue we none.’
Besyde them was a roche hye,
A well feyre welle there they sye
Come strykyng ouyr a stone.
Two men to the londe they sente,
Vp by the streme they wente,
The welle they fonde anone.
A lyenas lay in hur denne
And was full fayne of þo two men,
Anon sche had them slon.
The schyppman bade þem þere abyde:
‘Fresche watur haue we none.’
Besyde them was a roche hye,
A well feyre welle there they sye
Come strykyng ouyr a stone.
Two men to the londe they sente,
Vp by the streme they wente,
The welle they fonde anone.
A lyenas lay in hur denne
And was full fayne of þo two men,
Anon sche had them slon.
So long on ankyr can they ryde,
The two men for to abyde,
Tyll none was on the day.
Twelue men anon can they dyght
Wyth helmes and hawberkys bryght,
To londe than wente they.
They fonde the lyenas denne,
A manchylde lyeng therynne
Wyth the lyenas to pley.
Sometyme hyt soke the lyenas pappe,
And sometyme they can kysse and cleppe:
For fere they fledd away.
The two men for to abyde,
Tyll none was on the day.
Twelue men anon can they dyght
Wyth helmes and hawberkys bryght,
To londe than wente they.
They fonde the lyenas denne,
A manchylde lyeng therynne
Wyth the lyenas to pley.
Sometyme hyt soke the lyenas pappe,
And sometyme they can kysse and cleppe:
For fere they fledd away.
They yede and tolde what þey sye:
They fonde on the roche on hye
A lyenas in hur denne;
A manchylde therin lay
Wyth the lyenas to play,
And dedd were bothe ther men.
Than spake the lady mylde:
‘Mercy, lordyngys, that ys my chylde,
On londe ye let me renne!’
The bote they sente ouyr the flode,
To londe allone the lady yode:
Sore wepeyd the schypman than.
They fonde on the roche on hye
A lyenas in hur denne;
A manchylde therin lay
Wyth the lyenas to play,
And dedd were bothe ther men.
Than spake the lady mylde:
‘Mercy, lordyngys, that ys my chylde,
On londe ye let me renne!’
The bote they sente ouyr the flode,
To londe allone the lady yode:
Sore wepeyd the schypman than.
102
When sche came on the roche on hyght,
Sche ranne whyll sche myght,
Wyth full sory mode.
The lyenas, thorow Goddys grace,
When sche sye the ladyes face,
Debonerly stylle sche stode.
Thorow the myght of Mary mylde
Sche suffurd hur to take vp þe chylde,
And wyth the lady to þe see she yode.
When þe schypmen þe lyenas sye,
The londe durste þey not come nye:
For feere they were nye wode.
Sche ranne whyll sche myght,
Wyth full sory mode.
The lyenas, thorow Goddys grace,
When sche sye the ladyes face,
Debonerly stylle sche stode.
Thorow the myght of Mary mylde
Sche suffurd hur to take vp þe chylde,
And wyth the lady to þe see she yode.
When þe schypmen þe lyenas sye,
The londe durste þey not come nye:
For feere they were nye wode.
Some hente an oore and some a sprytt
The lyenas for to meete,
Owt of ther schyppe to were.
The lady ynto the schyp wente,
Thyrty fote the lyenas aftur sprente,
Ther durste no man hur yn bere.
There men myght game see,
Fowrty men lepe ynto the see,
So ferde of the lyenas they were.
By the lady þe lyenas downe lay
And wyth the chylde can sche play,
And no man wolde sche dere.
The lyenas for to meete,
Owt of ther schyppe to were.
The lady ynto the schyp wente,
Thyrty fote the lyenas aftur sprente,
Ther durste no man hur yn bere.
There men myght game see,
Fowrty men lepe ynto the see,
So ferde of the lyenas they were.
By the lady þe lyenas downe lay
And wyth the chylde can sche play,
And no man wolde sche dere.
They drewe vp seyle of ryche hewe;
The wynde owt of þe hauyn þem blewe
Ouyr the wanne streme.
The furste londe that they sye
Was a ceté wyth towrys hye,
That hyght Jerusalem.
As glad they were of that syght
As fowlys be of daylyght,
And of the sonne leme.
When hyt was ebbe and not flode,
The schypmen and þe lady to londe yode
Into that ryche realme.
The wynde owt of þe hauyn þem blewe
Ouyr the wanne streme.
The furste londe that they sye
Was a ceté wyth towrys hye,
That hyght Jerusalem.
As glad they were of that syght
As fowlys be of daylyght,
And of the sonne leme.
When hyt was ebbe and not flode,
The schypmen and þe lady to londe yode
Into that ryche realme.
104
Ouyr all þe cyté wyde and longe
Of þys lady worde þer spronge,
That þere on londe was lende;
How sche had a lyenas
Broght owt of wyldurnes;
The kynge aftur hur sende.
The kynge bad hur lett for noþynge,
And the lyenas wyth hur brynge
To the castell there nerehonde.
When þat sche before hym come,
For the emperyce of ryche Rome
Full well he hur kende.
Of þys lady worde þer spronge,
That þere on londe was lende;
How sche had a lyenas
Broght owt of wyldurnes;
The kynge aftur hur sende.
The kynge bad hur lett for noþynge,
And the lyenas wyth hur brynge
To the castell there nerehonde.
When þat sche before hym come,
For the emperyce of ryche Rome
Full well he hur kende.
The kynge frayned hur of hur fare,
And sche hym tolde of moche care,
As a wofull wyght.
Wyth hys quene he made hur to dwelle,
And maydenys redy at hur wylle,
To serue hur day and nyght.
The chylde þat was so feyre and free
The kynge let hyt crystenyd bee:
Octauyon he hyght.
When the chylde was of elde
That he cowde ryde and armys welde,
The kynge dubbyd hym knyght.
And sche hym tolde of moche care,
As a wofull wyght.
Wyth hys quene he made hur to dwelle,
And maydenys redy at hur wylle,
To serue hur day and nyght.
The chylde þat was so feyre and free
The kynge let hyt crystenyd bee:
Octauyon he hyght.
When the chylde was of elde
That he cowde ryde and armys welde,
The kynge dubbyd hym knyght.
The lyenas that was so wylde
Sche leuyd wyth the lady mylde:
Hur comfort was the more.
The lady was wyth the quene,
Wyth myrthe and game þem betwene,
To couyr hur of hur care.
Eche oon seruyd hur day and nyght,
To make hur gladd wyth all þer myght,
Tyll hyt bettur ware.
In Jerusalem can þe lady dwelle;
And of hur odur chylde y can yow telle
That the ape away bare.
Sche leuyd wyth the lady mylde:
Hur comfort was the more.
The lady was wyth the quene,
Wyth myrthe and game þem betwene,
To couyr hur of hur care.
Eche oon seruyd hur day and nyght,
To make hur gladd wyth all þer myght,
Tyll hyt bettur ware.
In Jerusalem can þe lady dwelle;
And of hur odur chylde y can yow telle
That the ape away bare.
106
Now comyþ þe ape þat was wylde
Þorow þe forest wyth þe chylde,
Be the holtys hoore;
As þe ape come ouyr þe strete
Wyth a knyght can sche meete,
That chylde as sche bare.
There faght þe knyȝt wondur longe
Wyth þe ape þat was so stronge,
Hys swyrde brake he thare.
The ape then awey ranne,
The knyȝt þere þe chylde wanne,
And on hys way can he fare.
Þorow þe forest wyth þe chylde,
Be the holtys hoore;
As þe ape come ouyr þe strete
Wyth a knyght can sche meete,
That chylde as sche bare.
There faght þe knyȝt wondur longe
Wyth þe ape þat was so stronge,
Hys swyrde brake he thare.
The ape then awey ranne,
The knyȝt þere þe chylde wanne,
And on hys way can he fare.
Forþe rode þe knyȝt wyth þe chylde þen,
And yn þe foreste he mett owtlawys ten,
That moche were of myght.
The knyȝt ȝyt was neuyr so wo
For hys swerde was brokyn yn two,
That he ne myȝt wyth them fyght.
Thogh þe knyȝt were kene and þro
The owtlawys wanne þe chylde hym fro,
That was so swete a wyght.
The knyȝt was woundyd so þat day
Vnnethe hys hors bare hym away,
So delefully was he dyght.
And yn þe foreste he mett owtlawys ten,
That moche were of myght.
The knyȝt ȝyt was neuyr so wo
For hys swerde was brokyn yn two,
That he ne myȝt wyth them fyght.
Thogh þe knyȝt were kene and þro
The owtlawys wanne þe chylde hym fro,
That was so swete a wyght.
The knyȝt was woundyd so þat day
Vnnethe hys hors bare hym away,
So delefully was he dyght.
The owtlawys set þem on a grene,
And leyde þe lytyll chylde þem betwene:
The chylde vpon them loghe.
The maystyr owtlawe seyde then:
‘Hyt were grete schame for hardy men
Thys chylde here and we sloghe.
I rede we bere hyt here besyde
To a ryche cyté wyth grete pryde,
And do we hyt no woghe;
Hyt ys so feyre and gentyll borne
That we myȝt haue therforne
Golde and syluyr ynoghe.’
And leyde þe lytyll chylde þem betwene:
The chylde vpon them loghe.
The maystyr owtlawe seyde then:
‘Hyt were grete schame for hardy men
Thys chylde here and we sloghe.
I rede we bere hyt here besyde
To a ryche cyté wyth grete pryde,
And do we hyt no woghe;
Hyt ys so feyre and gentyll borne
That we myȝt haue therforne
Golde and syluyr ynoghe.’
108
Then two of þem made þem yare
And to þe cyté þe chylde þey bare,
That was so swete a wyght.
Ther was no man þat the chylde sye
But þat þey wepte wyth ther eye:
So feyre hyt was be syght.
A burges of Parys came þem nere
That had be palmer sevyn yere,
Clement the Velayn he hyght.
‘Lordyngys,’ he seyde, ‘wyll ye þys chylde selle?’
‘Ye, who wyll vs golde and syluyr telle,
Floryns brode and bryght.’
And to þe cyté þe chylde þey bare,
That was so swete a wyght.
Ther was no man þat the chylde sye
But þat þey wepte wyth ther eye:
So feyre hyt was be syght.
A burges of Parys came þem nere
That had be palmer sevyn yere,
Clement the Velayn he hyght.
‘Lordyngys,’ he seyde, ‘wyll ye þys chylde selle?’
‘Ye, who wyll vs golde and syluyr telle,
Floryns brode and bryght.’
For fowrty pownde þe chylde selle þey wolde;
Clement seyde, ‘Longe y[e] may hym holde
Or y[e] hym selle may.
Y swere yow, lordyngys, be my hode,
I trowe ye can full lytyll gode,
Soche wordys for to say.
Golde and syluyr ys to me full nede,
Twenty pownde y wyll yow bede,
And make yow redy paye.’
The chylde þey to Clement yolde;
Twenty pownde he them tolde,
And wente forthe on hys way.
Clement seyde, ‘Longe y[e] may hym holde
Or y[e] hym selle may.
Y swere yow, lordyngys, be my hode,
I trowe ye can full lytyll gode,
Soche wordys for to say.
Golde and syluyr ys to me full nede,
Twenty pownde y wyll yow bede,
And make yow redy paye.’
The chylde þey to Clement yolde;
Twenty pownde he them tolde,
And wente forthe on hys way.
When Clement had þe chylde boght;
A panyer he let be wroght,
The chylde yn to lede;
A nurse he gate hym also,
Into Fraunce wyth hym to go,
The chylde for to fede.
Home he toke the wey full ryght
And hastyd hym wyth all hys myght;
That was hys beste rede.
Burgeys of Parys were full fayne;
Many wente Clement agayne:
A sklauyn was hys wede.
A panyer he let be wroght,
The chylde yn to lede;
A nurse he gate hym also,
Into Fraunce wyth hym to go,
The chylde for to fede.
Home he toke the wey full ryght
And hastyd hym wyth all hys myght;
That was hys beste rede.
Burgeys of Parys were full fayne;
Many wente Clement agayne:
A sklauyn was hys wede.
110
They callyd Clement and kyssyd hym all,
And broght hym home to hys halle;
Hys wyfe þerof was blythe.
Sche askyd hym the ryght dome
How he to the chylde come,
He tolde hur full swythe:
‘In Jerusalem there y hym gete,
For þere wolde y hym not lete:
The sothe y wyll the kythe.’
The wyfe answeryd wyth herte mylde:
‘Hyt schall be myn own chylde!’
And kyssyd hyt many a sythe.
And broght hym home to hys halle;
Hys wyfe þerof was blythe.
Sche askyd hym the ryght dome
How he to the chylde come,
He tolde hur full swythe:
‘In Jerusalem there y hym gete,
For þere wolde y hym not lete:
The sothe y wyll the kythe.’
The wyfe answeryd wyth herte mylde:
‘Hyt schall be myn own chylde!’
And kyssyd hyt many a sythe.
‘Dame,’ seyde Clement, ‘whyll y palmer was,
Thys chylde y gate wyth my flesche
In the hethen thede;
Into þys londe y haue hym broght,
For why þat þou wylt greue þe noght
Full ryche schall be thy mede.’
The wyfe answeryd wyth herte fre:
‘Full welcome, syr, hyt ys to me,
Full well y schall hym fede;
And kepe hym wyth my chylde
Tyll that he come of elde,
And clothe them yn oon wede.’
Thys chylde y gate wyth my flesche
In the hethen thede;
Into þys londe y haue hym broght,
For why þat þou wylt greue þe noght
Full ryche schall be thy mede.’
The wyfe answeryd wyth herte fre:
‘Full welcome, syr, hyt ys to me,
Full well y schall hym fede;
And kepe hym wyth my chylde
Tyll that he come of elde,
And clothe them yn oon wede.’
Clement than was full blythe,
And let crysten hym full swythe,
Hyt was [not] taryed that nyght.
In the jeste as hyt ys tolde
The ryght name he hym calde:
Florent be name he hyght.
Whan þe chylde was sevyn yere olde
Hyt was feyre, wyse and bolde,
The man that redyth aryght.
Thorow þe realme of Fraunce wyde and longe
Of þys chylde the worde spronge,
So feyre he was be syght.
And let crysten hym full swythe,
Hyt was [not] taryed that nyght.
In the jeste as hyt ys tolde
The ryght name he hym calde:
Florent be name he hyght.
Whan þe chylde was sevyn yere olde
Hyt was feyre, wyse and bolde,
The man that redyth aryght.
Thorow þe realme of Fraunce wyde and longe
Of þys chylde the worde spronge,
So feyre he was be syght.
112
Euyr the burges and hys wyfe
Louyd the chylde as ther lyfe:
To them he was full dere.
Tyll þe chylde was sevyn yere olde and more,
The burges set hym to lore
To be a chaungere.
Clement toke the chylde oxen two,
And bad hym to the brygge go
To be a bochere;
To lerne hys crafte for to do—
And hys kynde was neuyr therto,
Soche games for to lere.
Louyd the chylde as ther lyfe:
To them he was full dere.
Tyll þe chylde was sevyn yere olde and more,
The burges set hym to lore
To be a chaungere.
Clement toke the chylde oxen two,
And bad hym to the brygge go
To be a bochere;
To lerne hys crafte for to do—
And hys kynde was neuyr therto,
Soche games for to lere.
As Florent to the brygge can go,
Dryuyng forthe hys oxen two,
He sawe a semely syght:
A squyer, as y schall yow telle,
A jentyll fawcon bare to selle,
Wyth fedurs folden bryght.
Florent to the squyer yede,
Bothe hys oxen he can hym bede
For the fawcon lyght;
The squyer therof was full blythe
For to take the oxen swythe,
And gave hym the fawcon ryght.
Dryuyng forthe hys oxen two,
He sawe a semely syght:
A squyer, as y schall yow telle,
A jentyll fawcon bare to selle,
Wyth fedurs folden bryght.
Florent to the squyer yede,
Bothe hys oxen he can hym bede
For the fawcon lyght;
The squyer therof was full blythe
For to take the oxen swythe,
And gave hym the fawcon ryght.
The squyer þerof was full gladd
When he þo oxen taken had,
And hyed owt of syght.
And Florent to fle was full fayne—
He wende he wolde haue had hys hawk agayn—
And ranne wyth all hys myȝt.
Home he toke þe ryght way
To Clementys hows, as hyt lay,
And yn he went full ryght.
He fedde þe hawke whyll he wolde,
And sythen he can hys fedurs folde,
As þe squyer had hym teyȝt.
When he þo oxen taken had,
And hyed owt of syght.
And Florent to fle was full fayne—
He wende he wolde haue had hys hawk agayn—
And ranne wyth all hys myȝt.
Home he toke þe ryght way
To Clementys hows, as hyt lay,
And yn he went full ryght.
He fedde þe hawke whyll he wolde,
And sythen he can hys fedurs folde,
As þe squyer had hym teyȝt.
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Clement came yn full sone:
‘Thefe, where haste þou my oxen done,
That y the begyfte?’
Grete dele myȝt men see thore:
Clement bete þe chylde sore,
That was so swete a wyght.
‘Wyth odur mete shalt þou not leue
But þat þys glede wyll þe yeue,
Neythur day ne nyght.’
As sore beton as þe chylde stode
Ȝyt he to the fawcon yode,
Hys fedurs for to ryght.
‘Thefe, where haste þou my oxen done,
That y the begyfte?’
Grete dele myȝt men see thore:
Clement bete þe chylde sore,
That was so swete a wyght.
‘Wyth odur mete shalt þou not leue
But þat þys glede wyll þe yeue,
Neythur day ne nyght.’
As sore beton as þe chylde stode
Ȝyt he to the fawcon yode,
Hys fedurs for to ryght.
The chylde þoght wondur thore
That Clement bete hym so sore,
And mekely he can pray:
‘Syr,’ he seyde, ‘for Crystys ore,
Leue, and bete me no more,
But ye wyste well why.
Wolde ye stonde now and beholde
How feyre he can hys fedurs folde,
And how louely they lye,
Ye wolde pray God wyth all your mode
That ye had solde halfe your gode,
Soche anodur to bye.’
That Clement bete hym so sore,
And mekely he can pray:
‘Syr,’ he seyde, ‘for Crystys ore,
Leue, and bete me no more,
But ye wyste well why.
Wolde ye stonde now and beholde
How feyre he can hys fedurs folde,
And how louely they lye,
Ye wolde pray God wyth all your mode
That ye had solde halfe your gode,
Soche anodur to bye.’
The burgeys wyfe besyde stode,
Sore sche rewyd yn hur mode
And seyde, ‘Syr, thyn ore!
For Mary loue, þat maydyn mylde,
Haue mercy on owre feyre chylde
And bete hym no more!
Let hym be at home and serue vs two,
And let owre odur sonys go
Eche day to lore.
Soche grace may God for þe chylde haue wroȝt,
To a bettur man he may be broght
Than he a bocher were.’
Sore sche rewyd yn hur mode
And seyde, ‘Syr, thyn ore!
For Mary loue, þat maydyn mylde,
Haue mercy on owre feyre chylde
And bete hym no more!
Let hym be at home and serue vs two,
And let owre odur sonys go
Eche day to lore.
Soche grace may God for þe chylde haue wroȝt,
To a bettur man he may be broght
Than he a bocher were.’
Aftur all thys tyme befelle,
Clement fowrty pownde can telle
Into a pawtenere.
Clement toke hyt chylde Florent,
And to the brygge he hym sente,
Hys brothur hyt to bere.
As þe chylde þorow þe cyté of Parys yede,
He sye where stode a feyre stede,
Was stronge yn eche werre;
The stede was whyte as any mylke,
The brydyll reynys were of sylke,
The molettys gylte they were.
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Into a pawtenere.
Clement toke hyt chylde Florent,
And to the brygge he hym sente,
Hys brothur hyt to bere.
As þe chylde þorow þe cyté of Parys yede,
He sye where stode a feyre stede,
Was stronge yn eche werre;
The stede was whyte as any mylke,
The brydyll reynys were of sylke,
The molettys gylte they were.
Florent to the stede can gone,
So feyre an hors sye he neuyr none
Made of flesche and felle.
Of wordys þe chylde was wondur bolde,
And askyd whedur he schoulde be solde;
The penyes he wolde hym telle.
The man hym louyd for thyrty pownde,
Eche peny hole and sownde:
No lesse he wolde hym selle.
Florent seyde: ‘To lytull hyt were!
But neuyr þe lees þou schalt haue more.’
Fowrty pownde he can hym telle.
So feyre an hors sye he neuyr none
Made of flesche and felle.
Of wordys þe chylde was wondur bolde,
And askyd whedur he schoulde be solde;
The penyes he wolde hym telle.
The man hym louyd for thyrty pownde,
Eche peny hole and sownde:
No lesse he wolde hym selle.
Florent seyde: ‘To lytull hyt were!
But neuyr þe lees þou schalt haue more.’
Fowrty pownde he can hym telle.
The merchaund þerof was full blythe
For to take the money swythe,
And hastyd hym away.
Chylde Florent lepe vp to ryde,
To Clementys hows wyth grete pryde
He toke the ryght way.
The chylde soght noon odur stalle,
But sett hys stede yn the halle
And gaue hym corne and haye.
And sethyn he can hym kembe and dyght
That euery heer lay aryght,
And neuyr oon wronge lay.
For to take the money swythe,
And hastyd hym away.
Chylde Florent lepe vp to ryde,
To Clementys hows wyth grete pryde
He toke the ryght way.
The chylde soght noon odur stalle,
But sett hys stede yn the halle
And gaue hym corne and haye.
And sethyn he can hym kembe and dyght
That euery heer lay aryght,
And neuyr oon wronge lay.
Clement comyth yn full sone:
‘Thefe,’ he seyde, ‘what haste þou done?
What haste thou hedur broght?’
‘Mercy, fadur, for Goddys peté!
Wyth þe money that ye toke me
Thys horse haue y boght.’
The burges wyfe felle on kne þore:
‘Syr, mercy,’ sche seyde, ‘for Crystys ore,
Owre feyre chylde bete ye noght!
Ye may see, and ye vndurstode,
That he had neuyr kynde of þy blode,
That he þese werkys hath wroght.’
‘Thefe,’ he seyde, ‘what haste þou done?
118
‘Mercy, fadur, for Goddys peté!
Wyth þe money that ye toke me
Thys horse haue y boght.’
The burges wyfe felle on kne þore:
‘Syr, mercy,’ sche seyde, ‘for Crystys ore,
Owre feyre chylde bete ye noght!
Ye may see, and ye vndurstode,
That he had neuyr kynde of þy blode,
That he þese werkys hath wroght.’
Aftur þys hyt was not longe
In Fraunce felle a werre stronge;
An hondryd thousande were there ylente.
Wyth schyldys brode and helmys bryȝt,
Men þat redy were to fyght,
Thorowowt þe londe þey went.
They broke castels stronge and bolde,
Ther myȝt no hye wallys þem holde,
Ryche townys they brente.
All the kyngys ferre and nere
Of odur londys, þat Crysten were,
Aftur were they sente.
In Fraunce felle a werre stronge;
An hondryd thousande were there ylente.
Wyth schyldys brode and helmys bryȝt,
Men þat redy were to fyght,
Thorowowt þe londe þey went.
They broke castels stronge and bolde,
Ther myȝt no hye wallys þem holde,
Ryche townys they brente.
All the kyngys ferre and nere
Of odur londys, þat Crysten were,
Aftur were they sente.
Octauyon, the emperour of Rome,
To Parys sone he come,
Wyth many a mody knyght.
And oþur kyngys kene wyth crowne,
All they were to batell bowne,
Wyth helmys and hawberkys bryght.
In Parys a monyth þe oost lay,
For they had takyn a day
Wyth the sowdon moche of myght.
The sowdon wyth hym a gyaunt broȝt,
The realme of Fraunce durste noȝt
Agenste hym to fyght.
To Parys sone he come,
Wyth many a mody knyght.
And oþur kyngys kene wyth crowne,
All they were to batell bowne,
Wyth helmys and hawberkys bryght.
In Parys a monyth þe oost lay,
For they had takyn a day
Wyth the sowdon moche of myght.
The sowdon wyth hym a gyaunt broȝt,
The realme of Fraunce durste noȝt
Agenste hym to fyght.
The sowdon had a doghtur bryght,
Marsabelle that maydyn hyght,
Sche was bothe feyre and fre,
The feyrest þynge alyue þat was
In Crystendome or hethynnes,
And semelyest of syght.
To þe kynge of Fraunce þe maydyn sende
To lye at Mountmertrons þere nerehonde,
From Parys mylys thre,
At Mountmertrons besyde Borogh Larayn,
That stondyþ ouyr the banke of Sayne,
For auentours wolde sche see.
120
Sche was bothe feyre and fre,
The feyrest þynge alyue þat was
In Crystendome or hethynnes,
And semelyest of syght.
To þe kynge of Fraunce þe maydyn sende
To lye at Mountmertrons þere nerehonde,
From Parys mylys thre,
At Mountmertrons besyde Borogh Larayn,
That stondyþ ouyr the banke of Sayne,
For auentours wolde sche see.
The kyng of Fraunce þe maydyn hyȝt,
As he was trewe kyng and knyȝt,
And swere hur be hys fay,
That she must sauely come þerto;
Ther schulde no man hur mysdo
Neythur be nyght ne day.
The mayde þerof was full blyþe,
To the castell sche went swythe
And sevyn nyghtys þere sche lay;
For sche thoght yoye and pryde
To see þe Crystyn knyghtys ryde,
On fylde them for to play.
As he was trewe kyng and knyȝt,
And swere hur be hys fay,
That she must sauely come þerto;
Ther schulde no man hur mysdo
Neythur be nyght ne day.
The mayde þerof was full blyþe,
To the castell sche went swythe
And sevyn nyghtys þere sche lay;
For sche thoght yoye and pryde
To see þe Crystyn knyghtys ryde,
On fylde them for to play.
The gyauntys name was Aragonour,
He louyd þat maydyn paramour,
That was so feyre and free;
And she had leuyr drawyn bene
Than yn hur chaumbur hym to sene:
So fowle a wyght was he.
The gyaunt came to Mountmertrons on a day,
For to comfort þat feyre may,
And badd hur blythe bee;
He seyde: ‘Lemman, or y ete mete,
The kyngys hed of Fraunce y wyll þe ge[te],
For oon cosse of the.’
He louyd þat maydyn paramour,
That was so feyre and free;
And she had leuyr drawyn bene
Than yn hur chaumbur hym to sene:
So fowle a wyght was he.
122
For to comfort þat feyre may,
And badd hur blythe bee;
He seyde: ‘Lemman, or y ete mete,
The kyngys hed of Fraunce y wyll þe ge[te],
For oon cosse of the.’
Than spake þe mayde mylde of mode
To þe gyaunt þere he stode
And gaf hym answere:
‘The kyngys hed when hyt ys broȝt,
A kysse wyll y warne þe noght,
For lefe to me hyt were.’
The gyaunt armyd hym full well
Bothe yn yron and yn stele,
Wyth schylde and wyth spere;
Hyt was twenty fote and two
Betwyx hys hedd and hys too:
None hors myȝt hym bere.
To þe gyaunt þere he stode
And gaf hym answere:
‘The kyngys hed when hyt ys broȝt,
A kysse wyll y warne þe noght,
For lefe to me hyt were.’
The gyaunt armyd hym full well
Bothe yn yron and yn stele,
Wyth schylde and wyth spere;
Hyt was twenty fote and two
Betwyx hys hedd and hys too:
None hors myȝt hym bere.
The gyaunt toke the ryȝt way
To þe cyté of Parys as hyt lay,
Wyth hym went no moo.
The gyaunt leynyd ouyr the walle
And spake to the folkys all
Wordys kene and thro;
And bad þem sende hym a knyght
To fynde hym hys fylle of fyght,
Or the londe he wolde ouyrgo;
And he ne wolde leue alyfe
Man, beste, chylde ne wyfe,
But þat he wolde þem brenne and slo.
To þe cyté of Parys as hyt lay,
Wyth hym went no moo.
The gyaunt leynyd ouyr the walle
And spake to the folkys all
Wordys kene and thro;
And bad þem sende hym a knyght
To fynde hym hys fylle of fyght,
Or the londe he wolde ouyrgo;
And he ne wolde leue alyfe
Man, beste, chylde ne wyfe,
But þat he wolde þem brenne and slo.
All the folke of that cyté
Ranne that gyaunt for to see,
At the walle there he stode;
As farre as they sye hys blee
They were fayne for to flee:
For fere þey were nye wode.
Owt went armyd knyghtys fyue,
They þoght to auentour þer lyue;
The gyaunt thoght hyt gode.
Full hastely he had þem slayne,
Ther came neuyr oon quyk agayne
That owt at the yatys yode.
Ranne that gyaunt for to see,
At the walle there he stode;
As farre as they sye hys blee
They were fayne for to flee:
124
Owt went armyd knyghtys fyue,
They þoght to auentour þer lyue;
The gyaunt thoght hyt gode.
Full hastely he had þem slayne,
Ther came neuyr oon quyk agayne
That owt at the yatys yode.
Chylde Florent askyd hys fadur Clement
Whodur all that people went,
That to the yatys dud renne.
Clement tolde Florent hys sone:
‘Soche a gyaunt to þe walle ys come’—
The chylde harkenyd hym then—
‘Sone but yf he may fynde a man
That he may fyght hys fylle vpon,
Thys cyté wyll he brenne,
And sythen thys londe ouyrgone:
Quykk wyll he leue noon
Alyue that ys therynne.’
Whodur all that people went,
That to the yatys dud renne.
Clement tolde Florent hys sone:
126
The chylde harkenyd hym then—
‘Sone but yf he may fynde a man
That he may fyght hys fylle vpon,
Thys cyté wyll he brenne,
And sythen thys londe ouyrgone:
Quykk wyll he leue noon
Alyue that ys therynne.’
‘Fadur,’ he seyde, ‘sadull my stede,
And lende me somedele of your wede,
And helpe that y were dyght!
Yf that hyt be Goddys wylle,
I hope to fynde hym hys fylle,
Thogh he be stronge and wyght.’
Clement seyde, ‘And þou oon worde more speke,
Thys day y wyll thy hedd breke,
I swere, be Mary bryght!’
‘For nothynge, fadur, wyll y byde,
To the gyaunt wyll y ryde
And proue on hym my myght.’
And lende me somedele of your wede,
And helpe that y were dyght!
Yf that hyt be Goddys wylle,
I hope to fynde hym hys fylle,
Thogh he be stronge and wyght.’
Clement seyde, ‘And þou oon worde more speke,
Thys day y wyll thy hedd breke,
I swere, be Mary bryght!’
‘For nothynge, fadur, wyll y byde,
To the gyaunt wyll y ryde
And proue on hym my myght.’
128
For sorowe Clementys herte nye braste
When he on Florent hacton caste—
The chylde was bolde and kene—
An hawberke aboue let he falle,
Rowsty were the naylys all
And hys atyre bedeene.
Clement broght forthe schylde and spere
That were vncomely for to were,
All sutty, blakk and vnclene.
A swyrde he broght the chylde beforne
That sevyn yere afore was not borne,
Ne drawe, and that was seene.
When he on Florent hacton caste—
The chylde was bolde and kene—
An hawberke aboue let he falle,
Rowsty were the naylys all
And hys atyre bedeene.
Clement broght forthe schylde and spere
That were vncomely for to were,
All sutty, blakk and vnclene.
A swyrde he broght the chylde beforne
That sevyn yere afore was not borne,
Ne drawe, and that was seene.
Clement the swyrde drawe owt wolde,
Gladwyn hys wyfe schoulde þe scabard holde,
And bothe faste they drowe;
When the swyrde owt glente,
Bothe to the erthe they wente:
There was game ynowe.
Clement felle to a benche so faste
That mowth and nose all tobraste,
And Florent stode and loghe.
Hyt ys gode bowrde to telle
How they to the erthe felle,
And Clement lay yn swoghe.
Gladwyn hys wyfe schoulde þe scabard holde,
And bothe faste they drowe;
When the swyrde owt glente,
Bothe to the erthe they wente:
There was game ynowe.
Clement felle to a benche so faste
That mowth and nose all tobraste,
And Florent stode and loghe.
Hyt ys gode bowrde to telle
How they to the erthe felle,
And Clement lay yn swoghe.
Chylde Florent yn hys onfayre wede,
When he was armyd on a stede
Hys swyrde ydrawyn he bare;
Hys ventayle and hys basenett,
Hys helme on hys hedd sett:
Bothe rowsty they were.
Bothe Clement and hys wyfe
Louyd the chylde as þer lyfe,
For hym þey wept full sore.
To Jhesu Cryste faste can þey bede
To sende hym grace well to spede:
They myght do no more.
When he was armyd on a stede
130
Hys ventayle and hys basenett,
Hys helme on hys hedd sett:
Bothe rowsty they were.
Bothe Clement and hys wyfe
Louyd the chylde as þer lyfe,
For hym þey wept full sore.
To Jhesu Cryste faste can þey bede
To sende hym grace well to spede:
They myght do no more.
For hys atyre þat was so bryght,
Hym behelde bothe kynge and knyȝt,
And moche wondur thoght.
Many a skorne there he hent
As he thorow the cyté went,
But therof roght he noght.
The people to þe wallys can go
To see þe batell betwene þem two,
When þey were togedur broght.
Clement hys fadur wo was he
Tyll he wyste whych schulde maystyr be,
Gladd was he noght.
Hym behelde bothe kynge and knyȝt,
And moche wondur thoght.
Many a skorne there he hent
As he thorow the cyté went,
But therof roght he noght.
The people to þe wallys can go
To see þe batell betwene þem two,
When þey were togedur broght.
Clement hys fadur wo was he
Tyll he wyste whych schulde maystyr be,
Gladd was he noght.
The chylde came to þe yatys sone,
And bad þe portar them ondone
And opyn them full wyde.
All þat abowt þe chylde stode
Laghed as they were wode,
And skornyd hym that tyde.
Euery man seyde to hys fere:
‘Here comyth an hardy bachelere,
Hym besemyth well to ryde;
Men may see be hys bre[ny]e bryght
That he ys an hardy knyght,
The gyaunt to abyde.’
And bad þe portar them ondone
And opyn them full wyde.
All þat abowt þe chylde stode
Laghed as they were wode,
And skornyd hym that tyde.
Euery man seyde to hys fere:
‘Here comyth an hardy bachelere,
Hym besemyth well to ryde;
Men may see be hys bre[ny]e bryght
That he ys an hardy knyght,
The gyaunt to abyde.’
The gyaunt vpryght can stonde
And toke hys burdon yn hys honde,
Of stele that was vnryde;
To the chylde smote he so
That þe chyldys shylde brake yn two
And felle on euery syde.
The chylde was neuyr ȝyt so wo
That hys schylde was brokyn yn two:
More he thoght to byde.
To þe gyaunt he smote so sore
That hys ryȝt arme flye of þore:
The blode stremyd wyde.
132
Of stele that was vnryde;
To the chylde smote he so
That þe chyldys shylde brake yn two
And felle on euery syde.
The chylde was neuyr ȝyt so wo
That hys schylde was brokyn yn two:
More he thoght to byde.
To þe gyaunt he smote so sore
That hys ryȝt arme flye of þore:
The blode stremyd wyde.
Clement on þe wallys stode,
Full blythe was he yn hys mode
And mende can hys chere:
‘Sone, for that y haue seene
Thy noble stroke þat ys so kene,
To me art þou full dere;
Now me thynkyth yn my mode
Thou haste well besett my gode,
Soche playes for to lere.
Jhesu, that syttyth yn trynyte,
Blesse the fadur that gate the,
And þe modur þat þe dud bere!’
Full blythe was he yn hys mode
And mende can hys chere:
‘Sone, for that y haue seene
Thy noble stroke þat ys so kene,
To me art þou full dere;
Now me thynkyth yn my mode
Thou haste well besett my gode,
Soche playes for to lere.
Jhesu, that syttyth yn trynyte,
Blesse the fadur that gate the,
And þe modur þat þe dud bere!’
Chylde Florent yn hys feyre wede
Sprange owt as sparkyll on glede,
The sothe y wyll yow say.
He rode forthe wyth egur mode
To the gyaunt there he stode:
There was no chyldys play.
The gyaunt to the chylde smote so
That hys hors and he to grounde dud go;
The stede on kneys lay.
Clement cryed wyth egur mode:
‘Sone, be now of comfort gode,
And venge the yf thou may!’
Sprange owt as sparkyll on glede,
The sothe y wyll yow say.
He rode forthe wyth egur mode
To the gyaunt there he stode:
There was no chyldys play.
The gyaunt to the chylde smote so
That hys hors and he to grounde dud go;
The stede on kneys lay.
Clement cryed wyth egur mode:
‘Sone, be now of comfort gode,
And venge the yf thou may!’
134
As euyll as the chylde farde,
When he Clementys speche harde,
Hys harte beganne to bolde.
Boldely hys swyrde he lawght,
To the gyaunt soche a strok he raght
That all hys blode can colde.
He hytt the gyaunt on þe schouldur boon
That to the pappe the swyrde ranne:
To grounde can he folde.
Thus hyt was, þorow Goddys grace,
The gyaunt swownyd yn that place,
In geste as hyt ys tolde.
When he Clementys speche harde,
Hys harte beganne to bolde.
Boldely hys swyrde he lawght,
To the gyaunt soche a strok he raght
That all hys blode can colde.
He hytt the gyaunt on þe schouldur boon
That to the pappe the swyrde ranne:
To grounde can he folde.
Thus hyt was, þorow Goddys grace,
The gyaunt swownyd yn that place,
In geste as hyt ys tolde.
The kyngys on the wallys stode;
Whan the gyaunt to grounde yode
All gladd they were;
All the people at the chylde loghe,
How he the gyauntys helme ofdroghe
And hys hedd he smote of there.
The chylde lepe vpon hys stede
And rode awey a gode spede;
Wyth them spake he no more.
The chylde toke the ryght way
To Mountmertrons þere the mayde lay,
And the hedd wyth hym he bare.
Whan the gyaunt to grounde yode
All gladd they were;
All the people at the chylde loghe,
How he the gyauntys helme ofdroghe
And hys hedd he smote of there.
The chylde lepe vpon hys stede
And rode awey a gode spede;
Wyth them spake he no more.
The chylde toke the ryght way
To Mountmertrons þere the mayde lay,
And the hedd wyth hym he bare.
When he came to þe maydyns halle
He fonde the boordys couyrde all,
And redy to go to mete.
The maydyn that was so mylde of mode,
In a kyrtull there sche stode,
And bowne sche was to sete.
‘Damysell,’ he seyde, ‘feyre and free,
Well gretyth thy lemman the
Of that he the behete.
Here an hedd y haue the broght,
The kyngys of Fraunce ys hyt noght:
Hyt ys euyll to gete.’
He fonde the boordys couyrde all,
And redy to go to mete.
The maydyn that was so mylde of mode,
In a kyrtull there sche stode,
And bowne sche was to sete.
‘Damysell,’ he seyde, ‘feyre and free,
Well gretyth thy lemman the
Of that he the behete.
Here an hedd y haue the broght,
The kyngys of Fraunce ys hyt noght:
Hyt ys euyll to gete.’
136
The byrde bryght as golde [b]ye
When sche the gyauntys hedd sye,
Well sche hyt kende.
‘Me thynkyth he was trewe of hete;
The kyngys when he myght not gete
Hys own that he me sende.’
‘Damysell,‘ he seyde, ‘feyre and bryght,
Now wyll y haue þat þou hym hyght.’
And ouyr hys sadull he leynyd.
Oftesythys he kyste that may,
And hente hur vp and rode away,
That all the brygge can bende.
When sche the gyauntys hedd sye,
Well sche hyt kende.
‘Me thynkyth he was trewe of hete;
The kyngys when he myght not gete
Hys own that he me sende.’
‘Damysell,‘ he seyde, ‘feyre and bryght,
Now wyll y haue þat þou hym hyght.’
And ouyr hys sadull he leynyd.
Oftesythys he kyste that may,
And hente hur vp and rode away,
That all the brygge can bende.
Crye and noyse rose yn the towne;
Sone ther was to batell bowne
Many an hardy knyght,
Wyth sperys longe and schyldys browne;
Florent let the maydyn adowne
And made hym bowne to fyght.
Hur skarlet sleue he schare of then,
He seyde, ‘Lady, be thys ye shall me ken,
When ye me see by syght.’
Soche loue waxe betwene þem two
That the lady wepte for wo,
When he ne wynne hur myght.
Sone ther was to batell bowne
Many an hardy knyght,
Wyth sperys longe and schyldys browne;
Florent let the maydyn adowne
And made hym bowne to fyght.
Hur skarlet sleue he schare of then,
He seyde, ‘Lady, be thys ye shall me ken,
When ye me see by syght.’
Soche loue waxe betwene þem two
That the lady wepte for wo,
When he ne wynne hur myght.
Chylde Florent yn onfeyre wede
Sprange owt as sparkyll on glede,
The sothe for to say;
Many hethen men that stownde
In dede he broght to þe grounde:
There was no chyldys play.
When Florent beganne to fownde,
Wythowt any weme of wownde,
To Parys he toke the way.
The hethyn men were so fordredd,
To Cleremount wyth þe mayde þey fledd
There the sowdon lay.
Sprange owt as sparkyll on glede,
The sothe for to say;
Many hethen men that stownde
In dede he broght to þe grounde:
There was no chyldys play.
When Florent beganne to fownde,
Wythowt any weme of wownde,
To Parys he toke the way.
The hethyn men were so fordredd,
To Cleremount wyth þe mayde þey fledd
There the sowdon lay.
138
In hur fadur pauylon
There þey let the maydyn downe,
And sche knelyd on knee.
The sowdon was full blythe,
To hys doghtur he went swythe
And kyssyd hur sythys thre.
He set hur downe on a deyse,
Rychely, wythowt lees,
Wyth grete solempnyte.
Sche tolde hur fadur and wolde not layne
How Araganour þe gyaunt was slayne:
A sory man was he.
There þey let the maydyn downe,
And sche knelyd on knee.
The sowdon was full blythe,
To hys doghtur he went swythe
And kyssyd hur sythys thre.
He set hur downe on a deyse,
Rychely, wythowt lees,
Wyth grete solempnyte.
Sche tolde hur fadur and wolde not layne
How Araganour þe gyaunt was slayne:
A sory man was he.
‘Leue fadur,’ sche seyde, ‘thyn ore,
At Mountmertrons let me be no more,
So nere the Crysten to bene.
In soche auenture y was today
That a rybawde had me borne away,
For all my knyghtys kene;
Ther was no man yn hethyn londe
Myght sytte a dynte of hys honde,
The traytur was so [b]reme.
As oftyn as y on hym thenke
Y may nodur ete nor drynke,
So full y am of tene.’
At Mountmertrons let me be no more,
So nere the Crysten to bene.
In soche auenture y was today
That a rybawde had me borne away,
For all my knyghtys kene;
Ther was no man yn hethyn londe
Myght sytte a dynte of hys honde,
The traytur was so [b]reme.
As oftyn as y on hym thenke
Y may nodur ete nor drynke,
So full y am of tene.’
When þe sowdon þes tythyngys herde
He bote hys lyppys and schoke hys berde,
That hodyus hyt was to see;
He swere be egur countynawns
That hange he wolde þe kyng of Fraunce
And brenne all Crystyante.
‘I schall neythur leue on lyue
Man ne beste, chylde ne wyue,
Wyth eyen that y may see.
Doghtur, go to chaumbur swythe,
And loke þou make þe glad and blythe;
Avengyd schalt thou be.’
He bote hys lyppys and schoke hys berde,
That hodyus hyt was to see;
He swere be egur countynawns
That hange he wolde þe kyng of Fraunce
And brenne all Crystyante.
‘I schall neythur leue on lyue
Man ne beste, chylde ne wyue,
Wyth eyen that y may see.
Doghtur, go to chaumbur swythe,
And loke þou make þe glad and blythe;
Avengyd schalt thou be.’
140
Full rychely was þe chaumbur spradd,
Therto was the maydyn ladd
Wyth maydenys that sche broght.
On softe seges was sche sett,
Sche myght nodur drynke ne ete,
So moche on hym sche thoght,
Odur whyle on hys feyre chere,
And of the colour of hys lere:
Sche myght forgete hym noght.
Stylle sche seyde wyth herte sore:
‘Allas, wyth my lemman þat y ne were,
Where he wolde me haue broght.’
Therto was the maydyn ladd
Wyth maydenys that sche broght.
On softe seges was sche sett,
Sche myght nodur drynke ne ete,
So moche on hym sche thoght,
Odur whyle on hys feyre chere,
And of the colour of hys lere:
Sche myght forgete hym noght.
Stylle sche seyde wyth herte sore:
‘Allas, wyth my lemman þat y ne were,
Where he wolde me haue broght.’
On hur bedd as sche lay
To hur sche callyd a may
Full preuely and stylle;
The maydyn hyght Olyvan,
The kyngys doghtur of Sodam,
That moost wyste of hur wylle.
Sche seyde: ‘Olyuan, now yn preuyté,
My councell wyll y schewe the,
That greuyth me full ylle:
On a chylde ys all my thoght
That me to Parys wolde haue broȝt,
And y ne may come hym tylle.’
To hur sche callyd a may
Full preuely and stylle;
The maydyn hyght Olyvan,
The kyngys doghtur of Sodam,
That moost wyste of hur wylle.
Sche seyde: ‘Olyuan, now yn preuyté,
My councell wyll y schewe the,
That greuyth me full ylle:
On a chylde ys all my thoght
That me to Parys wolde haue broȝt,
And y ne may come hym tylle.’
Olyuan answeryd hur tho:
‘Sethyn, lady, ye wyll do so,
Drede ye no wyght.
I schall yow helpe bothe nyght and day,
Lady, all that euyr y may,
That he yow wynne myght.
Ȝyt may soche auentour be,
Lady that ye may hym see
Or thys fourtenyght.
At Mountmertrons y wolde ye were,
The sothe of hym þere shulde ye here,
Be he squyer or knyght.’
‘Sethyn, lady, ye wyll do so,
Drede ye no wyght.
I schall yow helpe bothe nyght and day,
Lady, all that euyr y may,
That he yow wynne myght.
Ȝyt may soche auentour be,
Lady that ye may hym see
Or thys fourtenyght.
At Mountmertrons y wolde ye were,
The sothe of hym þere shulde ye here,
Be he squyer or knyght.’
142
The Crysten men were full blythe
When þey sye Florent on lyue,
They wende he had be lorne.
The chylde was set wyth honour
Betwyx the kyng of Fraunce and þe emperour,
Sothe wythowten lees.
The emperour the chylde can beholde,
He was so curtes and so bolde,
But he ne wyste what he was;
The emperour thoght euyr yn hys mode
The chylde was comyn of gentyll blode,
He thoght ryght as hyt was.
When þey sye Florent on lyue,
They wende he had be lorne.
144
Betwyx the kyng of Fraunce and þe emperour,
Sothe wythowten lees.
The emperour the chylde can beholde,
He was so curtes and so bolde,
But he ne wyste what he was;
The emperour thoght euyr yn hys mode
The chylde was comyn of gentyll blode,
He thoght ryght as hyt was.
146
When the folke had all eton,
Clement had not all forgeton,
Hys purce he openyd thore.
Thyrty florens forthe caste he:
‘Haue here for my sone and me,
I may pay for no more.’
Clement was so curtes and wyse,
He wende hyt had ben merchandyse,
The pryde that he sawe thore.
At Clement logh the kyngys all,
So dud the knyghtys yn þat halle,
And chylde Florent schamyd sore.
Clement had not all forgeton,
Hys purce he openyd thore.
Thyrty florens forthe caste he:
‘Haue here for my sone and me,
I may pay for no more.’
Clement was so curtes and wyse,
He wende hyt had ben merchandyse,
The pryde that he sawe thore.
At Clement logh the kyngys all,
So dud the knyghtys yn þat halle,
And chylde Florent schamyd sore.
The emperour than spekyth he
To Florent, that was feyre and fre,
Wordys wondur stylle:
‘Yonge knyght, y pray the,
Ys he thy fadur, telle þou me?’
The chylde answeryd þertylle:
‘Syr, loue y had neuyr hym to
As y schulde to my fadur do,
In herte ne yn wylle.
Of all the men þat euyr y sye,
Moost yeuyth my herte to yow trewly:
Syr, take hyt not yn ylle.’
To Florent, that was feyre and fre,
Wordys wondur stylle:
‘Yonge knyght, y pray the,
Ys he thy fadur, telle þou me?’
The chylde answeryd þertylle:
‘Syr, loue y had neuyr hym to
As y schulde to my fadur do,
In herte ne yn wylle.
Of all the men þat euyr y sye,
Moost yeuyth my herte to yow trewly:
Syr, take hyt not yn ylle.’
The emperour let calle Clement there;
He hym sett hym full nere
On the hygh deyse.
He bad hym telle the ryght dome
How he to the chylde come,
The sothe wythowten lees.
‘Syr, þys chylde was take yn a forest
From a lady wyth a wylde beest,
In a grete wyldurnes;
And y hym boght for twenty pownde,
Eche peny hole and sownde,
And seyde my sone he was.’
He hym sett hym full nere
On the hygh deyse.
He bad hym telle the ryght dome
How he to the chylde come,
The sothe wythowten lees.
‘Syr, þys chylde was take yn a forest
From a lady wyth a wylde beest,
In a grete wyldurnes;
And y hym boght for twenty pownde,
Eche peny hole and sownde,
And seyde my sone he was.’
148
The emperour than was full blythe
Of that tythynge for [to] lythe,
And thankyd God almyght.
The emperour felle on kne full swythe
And kyste the chylde an hondryd sythe,
And worschyppyd God full ryght;
Well he wyste, wythowt lees,
That he hys own sone was;
All gamyd, kyng and knyght.
The chyldys name was chaungyd wyth dome,
And callyd hym syr Florent of Rome,
As hyt was gode ryght.
Of that tythynge for [to] lythe,
And thankyd God almyght.
The emperour felle on kne full swythe
And kyste the chylde an hondryd sythe,
And worschyppyd God full ryght;
Well he wyste, wythowt lees,
That he hys own sone was;
All gamyd, kyng and knyght.
The chyldys name was chaungyd wyth dome,
And callyd hym syr Florent of Rome,
As hyt was gode ryght.
The emperour was blythe of chere,
The terys traylyd downe on hys lere;
He made full grete care.
‘Allas,’ he seyde, ‘my feyre wyfe,
The beste lady that euyr bare lyfe,
Schall y hur see no more?
Me were leuyr then all the golde
That euyr was vpon molde,
And sche alyue wore.’
The emperour gaue Clement townys fele,
To leue yn ryches and yn wele,
Inowe for euyrmore.
The terys traylyd downe on hys lere;
He made full grete care.
‘Allas,’ he seyde, ‘my feyre wyfe,
The beste lady that euyr bare lyfe,
Schall y hur see no more?
Me were leuyr then all the golde
That euyr was vpon molde,
And sche alyue wore.’
The emperour gaue Clement townys fele,
To leue yn ryches and yn wele,
Inowe for euyrmore.
On a nyght as the chylde yn bedd lay
He thoght on hys feyre may,
Mekyll was he yn care.
The chylde had nodur reste ne ro
For thoght how he myȝt come hur to,
And what hym beste ware.
The chylde þoght, for þe maydyns sake,
A message that he wolde make,
And to the sowdon fare;
On the morne he sadulde hys stede
And armyd hym yn ryche wede;
A braunche of olefe he bare.
He thoght on hys feyre may,
Mekyll was he yn care.
The chylde had nodur reste ne ro
For thoght how he myȝt come hur to,
And what hym beste ware.
The chylde þoght, for þe maydyns sake,
A message that he wolde make,
And to the sowdon fare;
On the morne he sadulde hys stede
And armyd hym yn ryche wede;
A braunche of olefe he bare.
150
Hyt was of messengerys the lawe
A braunche of [o]lefe for to haue,
And yn ther honde to bere.
For the ordynaunce was so,
Messengerys schulde sauely come and go,
And no man do them dere.
The chylde toke þe ryght way
To Cleremount as hyt lay,
Wyth hym hys grete heere.
At þe halle dore he reynyd hys stede,
And on hys fete yn he yede,
A messengere as he were.
A braunche of [o]lefe for to haue,
And yn ther honde to bere.
For the ordynaunce was so,
Messengerys schulde sauely come and go,
And no man do them dere.
The chylde toke þe ryght way
To Cleremount as hyt lay,
Wyth hym hys grete heere.
At þe halle dore he reynyd hys stede,
And on hys fete yn he yede,
A messengere as he were.
Than spake þe chylde wyth hardy mode
Before the sowdon þere he stode,
As a man of moche myght:
‘The kynge of Fraunce me hedur sende
And byddyþ þe owt of hys londe þou wynd,
Thou werryst ageyn þe ryght;
Or he wyll brynge agenste the
Thyrty thousande tolde be thre,
Wyth helmys and hawberkys bryght;
Eche knyȝt schall thyrty squyers haue,
And euery squyer a foteknaue
Worthe an hethyn knyght.’
Before the sowdon þere he stode,
As a man of moche myght:
‘The kynge of Fraunce me hedur sende
And byddyþ þe owt of hys londe þou wynd,
Thou werryst ageyn þe ryght;
Or he wyll brynge agenste the
Thyrty thousande tolde be thre,
Wyth helmys and hawberkys bryght;
Eche knyȝt schall thyrty squyers haue,
And euery squyer a foteknaue
Worthe an hethyn knyght.’
Than began the sowdon to speke,
There he sate at hys ryche mete,
Amonge hys knyghtys kene:
‘The kyng of Fraunce shall welcome be;
Agenste oon he schall haue thre,
I wot wythowten wene,
That also fayne are of fyght
As fowle of day aftur nyght,
To schewe ther schyldys schene.
To proue tomorne, be my lay,
I wyll neuyr set lenger day,
Than schall the sothe be sene.’
There he sate at hys ryche mete,
Amonge hys knyghtys kene:
‘The kyng of Fraunce shall welcome be;
Agenste oon he schall haue thre,
I wot wythowten wene,
That also fayne are of fyght
As fowle of day aftur nyght,
To schewe ther schyldys schene.
To proue tomorne, be my lay,
I wyll neuyr set lenger day,
Than schall the sothe be sene.’
152
Than spekyth þe mayde wyth mylde mode
To feyre Florent there he stode,
That was so swete a wyght:
‘Messengere, y wolde the frayne
Whedur he be knyght or swayne,
That ys so moche of myght,
That hath my fadurs gyaunt slayne,
And rauyschyd me fro Borogh Larayn,
And slewe there many a knyght.’
Thogh sche monyd hym to ylle,
Ȝyt were hyt mykull yn hur wylle
To haue of hym a syght.
To feyre Florent there he stode,
That was so swete a wyght:
‘Messengere, y wolde the frayne
Whedur he be knyght or swayne,
That ys so moche of myght,
That hath my fadurs gyaunt slayne,
And rauyschyd me fro Borogh Larayn,
And slewe there many a knyght.’
Thogh sche monyd hym to ylle,
Ȝyt were hyt mykull yn hur wylle
To haue of hym a syght.
‘Lady,’ he seyde, ‘nodur lesse nor more
Than yf hyt myselfe wore;
Syth þou wylt of me frayne,
Thou schalt me knowe yn all þe heere,
Thy sleue y wyll bere on my spere,
In the batell playne.’
All they wyste ther by than
That he was the same man
That had the gyaunt slayne.
Wythowt ony odur worde
All they start fro the borde,
Wyth swyrdys and knyuys drawyn.
Than yf hyt myselfe wore;
Syth þou wylt of me frayne,
Thou schalt me knowe yn all þe heere,
Thy sleue y wyll bere on my spere,
In the batell playne.’
All they wyste ther by than
That he was the same man
That had the gyaunt slayne.
Wythowt ony odur worde
All they start fro the borde,
Wyth swyrdys and knyuys drawyn.
Florent sawe none odur bote
But þat he muste fyght on fote
Agenste the Sarsyns all;
And euyr he hyt them amonge
Where he sawe the thykest thronge:
Full fele dud he the[n] falle.
Some be the armys he nome
That all the schouldur wyth hym come,
The prowdyst yn the halle;
And some soche bofettys he lente,
That the hedd fro the body wente,
As hyt were a balle.
But þat he muste fyght on fote
Agenste the Sarsyns all;
And euyr he hyt them amonge
Where he sawe the thykest thronge:
Full fele dud he the[n] falle.
Some be the armys he nome
That all the schouldur wyth hym come,
The prowdyst yn the halle;
And some soche bofettys he lente,
That the hedd fro the body wente,
As hyt were a balle.
154
Whan hys swyrde was ybrokyn,
A sarsyns legge hath he lokyn,
Therwyth he can hym were.
To the grounde he dud to go
Sevyn skore, and somedele moo,
That hethyn knyghtys were.
The chylde made hym wey full gode
To hys stede there he stode,
Tho myght hym no man dere.
The chylde toke the ryght way
To the cyté of Parys as hyt lay,
Thorowowt all the heere.
A sarsyns legge hath he lokyn,
Therwyth he can hym were.
To the grounde he dud to go
Sevyn skore, and somedele moo,
That hethyn knyghtys were.
The chylde made hym wey full gode
To hys stede there he stode,
Tho myght hym no man dere.
The chylde toke the ryght way
To the cyté of Parys as hyt lay,
Thorowowt all the heere.
The Crysten men were full blythe
When they sye Florent come alyue:
They wende he lorne had bene.
When he come nye the cyté
Agenste hym rode kyngys thre,
And the emperour rode them betwene.
The folke presyd hym to see,
Euery man cryed: ‘Whych ys he?’
As they hym neuyr had sene.
To the pales was he ladd,
And tolde them how he was bestadd
Amonge the Sarsyns kene.
When they sye Florent come alyue:
They wende he lorne had bene.
When he come nye the cyté
Agenste hym rode kyngys thre,
And the emperour rode them betwene.
The folke presyd hym to see,
Euery man cryed: ‘Whych ys he?’
As they hym neuyr had sene.
To the pales was he ladd,
And tolde them how he was bestadd
Amonge the Sarsyns kene.
‘Lordyngys, loke þat ye ben yare
To the batell for [to] fare,
And redy for to ryde.
Tomorne hyt muste nede be sene
Whych ys hardy man and kene;
We may no lenger byde.’
The folke seyde they were blythe
To wynde to the batell swythe,
In herte ys noght to hyde.
A ryche clothe on borde was spradde
To make the chylde blythe and gladd,
A kynge on aythur syde.
To the batell for [to] fare,
And redy for to ryde.
Tomorne hyt muste nede be sene
Whych ys hardy man and kene;
We may no lenger byde.’
The folke seyde they were blythe
To wynde to the batell swythe,
In herte ys noght to hyde.
A ryche clothe on borde was spradde
To make the chylde blythe and gladd,
A kynge on aythur syde.
156
On the morne when hyt was daylyght,
The folke can them to batell dyght,
All that wepyn myght welde.
There men myght see many a knyght
Wyth helmys and wyth hawberkys bryght,
Wyth sperys and wyth schylde.
Wyth trumpys and wyth moche pryde,
Boldely owt of the borowe þey ryde
Into a brode fylde;
The downe was bothe longe and brode
There bothe partyes odur abode,
And eyther on odur behelde.
The folke can them to batell dyght,
All that wepyn myght welde.
There men myght see many a knyght
Wyth helmys and wyth hawberkys bryght,
Wyth sperys and wyth schylde.
Wyth trumpys and wyth moche pryde,
Boldely owt of the borowe þey ryde
Into a brode fylde;
The downe was bothe longe and brode
There bothe partyes odur abode,
And eyther on odur behelde.
Marsabelle, the maydyn fre,
Was broght the batell for to see
To Mountmertrons ouyr Seyn.
Florent hur sleue bare on hys spere,
In the batell he wolde hyt were,
And rode forthe yn the playne;
For that men schulde see by than
That he was that ylke man
That had the gyaunt slayne;
And also for the maydyn free,
That sche schulde hys dede see;
Therof sche was fayne.
Was broght the batell for to see
To Mountmertrons ouyr Seyn.
Florent hur sleue bare on hys spere,
In the batell he wolde hyt were,
And rode forthe yn the playne;
For that men schulde see by than
That he was that ylke man
That had the gyaunt slayne;
And also for the maydyn free,
That sche schulde hys dede see;
Therof sche was fayne.
That whyle was moche sorowe yn fyȝt
When þe batell began to smyte
Wyth many a greuys wounde.
Fro þe morne, þat day was lyght,
Tyll hyt was euyn derke nyght,
Or eythur party wolde fownde.
Florent can euyr among þem ryde
And made þere many a sore syde,
That afore were softe and sownde.
So moche people to dethe yode
That the stedys dud wade yn blode
That stremyd on the grounde.
When þe batell began to smyte
Wyth many a greuys wounde.
Fro þe morne, þat day was lyght,
Tyll hyt was euyn derke nyght,
Or eythur party wolde fownde.
Florent can euyr among þem ryde
And made þere many a sore syde,
That afore were softe and sownde.
So moche people to dethe yode
That the stedys dud wade yn blode
That stremyd on the grounde.
158
There men myght see helmys bare,
Hedys þat full feyre ware,
Lay to grounde lyght.
The Crystyn party become so th[ynne]
That þe fylde þey myȝt not wynne,
All arewyd hyt kynge and knyght.
Florent smote wyth herte gode,
Thorow helme ynto þe hed hyt wode,
So moche he was of myght.
Thorow Godys grace, and Florent there,
The Crysten men þe bettur were
That day yn the fyght.
Hedys þat full feyre ware,
Lay to grounde lyght.
The Crystyn party become so th[ynne]
That þe fylde þey myȝt not wynne,
All arewyd hyt kynge and knyght.
Florent smote wyth herte gode,
Thorow helme ynto þe hed hyt wode,
So moche he was of myght.
Thorow Godys grace, and Florent there,
The Crysten men þe bettur were
That day yn the fyght.
The partyes were ydrawe away,
And takyn was anodur day,
That þe batell schulde bee.
Florent rode toward Borough Larayn,
Be the watur banke of Seyne,
Moo auenturs for to see.
The maydyn whyte as lylly flowre
Lay yn a corner of hur towre,
That was ferly feyre and free.
Florent sche sye on fylde fare,
Be the sleue that he bare
Sche knewe that hyt was he.
And takyn was anodur day,
That þe batell schulde bee.
Florent rode toward Borough Larayn,
Be the watur banke of Seyne,
Moo auenturs for to see.
The maydyn whyte as lylly flowre
Lay yn a corner of hur towre,
That was ferly feyre and free.
Florent sche sye on fylde fare,
Be the sleue that he bare
Sche knewe that hyt was he.
Then spekyth þe mayde wyth mylde mode
To Olyuan, that be hur stode,
And knewe hur preuyté:
‘Olyuan, how were beste to do
A worde þat y myȝt speke hym to?
Iwysse, then wele were me.’
Sche seyde, ‘Lady, we two
Allone wyll be the reuer go,
There as he may yow see.
Yf he yow loue wyth herte gode,
He wyll not let for the flode,
For a full gode stede hath he.’
To Olyuan, that be hur stode,
And knewe hur preuyté:
‘Olyuan, how were beste to do
A worde þat y myȝt speke hym to?
Iwysse, then wele were me.’
Sche seyde, ‘Lady, we two
Allone wyll be the reuer go,
There as he may yow see.
Yf he yow loue wyth herte gode,
He wyll not let for the flode,
For a full gode stede hath he.’
160
Forthe went the maydyns two;
Be the reuer syde can they goo,
Themselfe allone that tyde.
When Florent sawe þat swete wyght
He sprange as fowle dothe yn flyght,
No lenger wolde he byde.
The stede was so wondur gode
He bare the chylde ouyr the flode,
Hymselfe well cowde ryde.
Grete yoye hyt was to see þem meete
Wyth clyppyng and wyth kyssyng swete,
In herte ys not [to] hyde.
Be the reuer syde can they goo,
Themselfe allone that tyde.
When Florent sawe þat swete wyght
He sprange as fowle dothe yn flyght,
No lenger wolde he byde.
The stede was so wondur gode
He bare the chylde ouyr the flode,
Hymselfe well cowde ryde.
Grete yoye hyt was to see þem meete
Wyth clyppyng and wyth kyssyng swete,
In herte ys not [to] hyde.
‘Lady,’ he seyde, ‘well ys me
A worde þat y may speke wyth the,
So bryght þou art of hewe;
In all þys worlde ys noon so fre,
Why ne wyll ye crystenyd be
And syth of herte be trewe?’
Sche seyde, ‘Yf þat ye myght me wynne,
I wolde forsake all hethyn kynne
As thogh y them neuyr knewe;
And syth ye wolde me wedde to wyfe,
I wolde leue yn Crysten lyfe,
My yoye were euyr newe.’
A worde þat y may speke wyth the,
So bryght þou art of hewe;
In all þys worlde ys noon so fre,
Why ne wyll ye crystenyd be
And syth of herte be trewe?’
Sche seyde, ‘Yf þat ye myght me wynne,
I wolde forsake all hethyn kynne
As thogh y them neuyr knewe;
And syth ye wolde me wedde to wyfe,
I wolde leue yn Crysten lyfe,
My yoye were euyr newe.’
‘Lady,’ he seyde, ‘wythowt fayle,
How were beste yowre counsayle
That y yow wynne myght?’
‘Certys, ye neuyr wynne me may
But hyt were on that ylke day,
That ye haue take to fyght;
That ye wolde sende be the flode,
Wyth men þat crafty were and gode,
A schyppe þat well were dyght.
Whyll þat men are at þat dere dede,
That whyle myȝt men me awey lede
To yowre cyté ryght.
How were beste yowre counsayle
That y yow wynne myght?’
‘Certys, ye neuyr wynne me may
But hyt were on that ylke day,
That ye haue take to fyght;
That ye wolde sende be the flode,
Wyth men þat crafty were and gode,
A schyppe þat well were dyght.
Whyll þat men are at þat dere dede,
That whyle myȝt men me awey lede
To yowre cyté ryght.
162
‘My fadur hath a noble stede,
In the worlde ys noon so gode at nede
In turnament ne yn fyght;
Yn hys hedd he hath an horne,
Schapon as an vnycorne,
That selkowth ys be syght.
Syr, yf þat ye hym myght wynne,
There were no man yn hethyn kynne
That hym wythstonde myght.’
Florent kyste that feyre maye
And seyde: ‘Lady, haue gode day,
Holde that ye haue hyght!’
In the worlde ys noon so gode at nede
In turnament ne yn fyght;
Yn hys hedd he hath an horne,
Schapon as an vnycorne,
That selkowth ys be syght.
Syr, yf þat ye hym myght wynne,
There were no man yn hethyn kynne
That hym wythstonde myght.’
Florent kyste that feyre maye
And seyde: ‘Lady, haue gode day,
Holde that ye haue hyght!’
Florent ynto the sadull nome
And ouyr the reuer soon he come,
To Parys he toke the way.
He ne stynt ne he ne blanne
To Clementys hows tyll þat he came,
Hys auenturs to say.
He tolde hym of the noble stede
That gode was at euery nede,
And of that feyre maye.
‘Sone,’ seyde Clement, ‘be doghty of dede,
And certys þou schalt haue þat stede
To-morne, yf that y may.’
And ouyr the reuer soon he come,
To Parys he toke the way.
He ne stynt ne he ne blanne
To Clementys hows tyll þat he came,
Hys auenturs to say.
He tolde hym of the noble stede
That gode was at euery nede,
And of that feyre maye.
‘Sone,’ seyde Clement, ‘be doghty of dede,
And certys þou schalt haue þat stede
To-morne, yf that y may.’
On the morne, when hyt was daylyȝt,
Clement can hymselfe dyght
As an onfrely feere;
He dud hym ynto þe hethen ooste
There þe prees was althermoost,
A Sarsyn as thogh he were.
To the pauylown he can hym wynne
There þe sowdon hymselfe lay ynne,
And breuely can he bere;
Full well he cowde þer speche speke,
And askyd þem some of ther mete;
The sowdon can hym here.
Clement can hymselfe dyght
As an onfrely feere;
He dud hym ynto þe hethen ooste
There þe prees was althermoost,
A Sarsyn as thogh he were.
To the pauylown he can hym wynne
There þe sowdon hymselfe lay ynne,
And breuely can he bere;
Full well he cowde þer speche speke,
And askyd þem some of ther mete;
The sowdon can hym here.
164
Grete dole þe sowdon of hym þoght,
And soon he was before hym broght,
And wyth hym can he speke.
He seyde he was a Sarsyn stronge
That yn hys oost had be longe,
And had defawte of mete.
‘Lorde, þer ys noon hethyn lede
That so well cowde kepe a ryche stede,
Or othur horsys full grete.’
The sowdon seyde þat ylke tyde:
‘Yf þou can a stede well ryde,
Wyth me thou schalt be lete.’
And soon he was before hym broght,
And wyth hym can he speke.
He seyde he was a Sarsyn stronge
That yn hys oost had be longe,
And had defawte of mete.
‘Lorde, þer ys noon hethyn lede
That so well cowde kepe a ryche stede,
Or othur horsys full grete.’
The sowdon seyde þat ylke tyde:
‘Yf þou can a stede well ryde,
Wyth me thou schalt be lete.’
They horsyd Clement on a stede,
He sprang owt as sperkull on gle[de]
Into a feyre fylde.
All that stodyn on ylke syde
Had yoye to see hym ryde,
Before the sowdon they tolde.
When he had redyn coursys three,
That all had yoye þat can hym see,
The sowdon hym behelde.
Downe he lyght full soon
And on a bettur was he done;
Full feyre he can hym welde.
He sprang owt as sperkull on gle[de]
Into a feyre fylde.
All that stodyn on ylke syde
Had yoye to see hym ryde,
Before the sowdon they tolde.
When he had redyn coursys three,
That all had yoye þat can hym see,
The sowdon hym behelde.
Downe he lyght full soon
And on a bettur was he done;
Full feyre he can hym welde.
Grete yoye þe sowdon of hym þoȝt,
And bad hys feyre stede forþe be broȝt,
And Clement shall hym ryde.
When Clement was on þat stede
He rode away a full gode spede:
No lenger wolde he byde.
When he was redy forþe to foun[de]:
‘Beleue þere,’ he seyde, ‘ye heþen hou[nde],
For ye haue lorne yowre pryd[e]!’
Clement toke the ryght way
Into Parys as hyt lay:
Full blyþe was he that tyde.
And bad hys feyre stede forþe be broȝt,
And Clement shall hym ryde.
When Clement was on þat stede
He rode away a full gode spede:
No lenger wolde he byde.
When he was redy forþe to foun[de]:
‘Beleue þere,’ he seyde, ‘ye heþen hou[nde],
For ye haue lorne yowre pryd[e]!’
Clement toke the ryght way
Into Parys as hyt lay:
Full blyþe was he that tyde.
166
‘Florent, sone, where art thou?
That y þe hyght y haue hyt n[ow];
I haue broght thy stede.’
Florent blythe was that day
And seyde: ‘Fadur, yf y leue may,
I wyll the quyte thy mede;
But to the emperour of Rome
Therwyth y wyll hym present sone;
To þe pales ye schall hym lede.
For euyr me thynkyth yn my mode
That y am of hys own blode,
Yf hyt so pouerly myght sprede.’
That y þe hyght y haue hyt n[ow];
I haue broght thy stede.’
Florent blythe was that day
And seyde: ‘Fadur, yf y leue may,
I wyll the quyte thy mede;
But to the emperour of Rome
Therwyth y wyll hym present sone;
To þe pales ye schall hym lede.
For euyr me thynkyth yn my mode
That y am of hys own blode,
Yf hyt so pouerly myght sprede.’
To the pales the stede was ladde,
And all þe kyngys were full gladd
Theron for to see.
The emperour before hym stode,
Rauyschyd herte and blode,
So wondur feyre was he.
Then spekyth þe chylde of honour
To hys lorde the emperour:
‘Syr, thys stede geue y the.’
All that abowte þe chylde stode
Seyde he was of gentull blode:
Hyt myght noon odur be.
And all þe kyngys were full gladd
Theron for to see.
The emperour before hym stode,
Rauyschyd herte and blode,
So wondur feyre was he.
Then spekyth þe chylde of honour
To hys lorde the emperour:
‘Syr, thys stede geue y the.’
All that abowte þe chylde stode
Seyde he was of gentull blode:
Hyt myght noon odur be.
Aftur thys the day was nomyn
That þe batell on schulde comyn,
Agenste the Sarsyns to fyght.
Wyth trumpys and wyth moche pryde,
Boldely owt of þe borogh þey ryde,
As men moche of myght.
Florent thoght on the feyre maye,
To batell wente he not that day,
A schyppe he hath hym dyght;
Fro Mountmertrons þere þe lady lay
To Parys he broght hur away,
Ne wyste hyt kynge ne knyght.
That þe batell on schulde comyn,
Agenste the Sarsyns to fyght.
Wyth trumpys and wyth moche pryde,
Boldely owt of þe borogh þey ryde,
As men moche of myght.
Florent thoght on the feyre maye,
To batell wente he not that day,
A schyppe he hath hym dyght;
Fro Mountmertrons þere þe lady lay
To Parys he broght hur away,
Ne wyste hyt kynge ne knyght.
168
That whyle was moche sorowe yn fyȝt,
When þe batell began to smyght
Wyth many a grymme gare;
Fro morne þat hyt was daylyght
Tyll hyt was euyn derke nyght,
Wyth woundys wondur sore.
Forwhy þat Florent was not þere
The hethyn men þe bettur were,
The batell venquyscht þey þore;
Or Florent to þe felde was comyn,
Emperour and kynge were ynomyn
And all that Crysten were.
When þe batell began to smyght
Wyth many a grymme gare;
Fro morne þat hyt was daylyght
Tyll hyt was euyn derke nyght,
Wyth woundys wondur sore.
Forwhy þat Florent was not þere
The hethyn men þe bettur were,
The batell venquyscht þey þore;
Or Florent to þe felde was comyn,
Emperour and kynge were ynomyn
And all that Crysten were.
Florent was of herte so gode
He rode þorow þem, he was wode,
As wyght as he wolde wede.
Ther was no Sarsyn so moche of mayn
That myȝt hym stonde wyth strenkyth agayn,
Tyll they had slayne hys stede.
Of Florent there was dele ynow,
How þey hys hors vndur hym slowe,
And he to grounde yede.
Florent was take yn that fyght;
Bothe emperour, kynge and knyght,
Woundyd they can them lede.
He rode þorow þem, he was wode,
As wyght as he wolde wede.
Ther was no Sarsyn so moche of mayn
That myȝt hym stonde wyth strenkyth agayn,
Tyll they had slayne hys stede.
Of Florent there was dele ynow,
How þey hys hors vndur hym slowe,
And he to grounde yede.
Florent was take yn that fyght;
Bothe emperour, kynge and knyght,
Woundyd they can them lede.
The Sarsyns buskyd them wyth pryde
Into ther own londys to ryde;
They wolde no lenger dwelle.
Takyn they had syr Florawns,
The emperour and þe kyng of Fraunce,
Wyth woundys wondur fele;
Othur Crystyn kyngys moo,
Dewkys, erlys and barons also,
That arste were bolde and swelle;
And ladd them wyth yron stronge,
Hur fete vndur þe hors wombe:
Grete dele hyt ys to telle.
Into ther own londys to ryde;
They wolde no lenger dwelle.
Takyn they had syr Florawns,
The emperour and þe kyng of Fraunce,
Wyth woundys wondur fele;
Othur Crystyn kyngys moo,
Dewkys, erlys and barons also,
That arste were bolde and swelle;
And ladd them wyth yron stronge,
Hur fete vndur þe hors wombe:
Grete dele hyt ys to telle.
170
Wyde þe worde sprange of þys chawnce,
How the sowdon was yn Fraunce
To warre agenste the ryght.
In Jerusalem men can hyt here,
How þe emperour of Rome was there
Wyth many an hardy knyght.
Than spekyth Octauyon þe ȝyng
Full feyre to hys lorde the kyng,
As chylde of moche myght:
‘Lorde, yf hyt were yowre wylle,
I wolde wynde my fadur tylle
And helpe hym yn that fyght.’
How the sowdon was yn Fraunce
To warre agenste the ryght.
In Jerusalem men can hyt here,
How þe emperour of Rome was there
Wyth many an hardy knyght.
Than spekyth Octauyon þe ȝyng
Full feyre to hys lorde the kyng,
As chylde of moche myght:
‘Lorde, yf hyt were yowre wylle,
I wolde wynde my fadur tylle
And helpe hym yn that fyght.’
Than spekyth þe kyng of moche myȝt
Full fayre vnto that yong knyght;
Sore hys herte can blede:
‘Sone, þou schalt take my knyghtys fele,
Of my londe that thou wylle wele,
That styffe are on stede,
Into Fraunce wyth the to ryde,
Wyth hors and armys be thy syde,
To helpe the at nede.
When þou some doghtynes haste done
Then may þou shewe þyn errande soone;
The bettur may thou spede.’
Full fayre vnto that yong knyght;
Sore hys herte can blede:
‘Sone, þou schalt take my knyghtys fele,
Of my londe that thou wylle wele,
That styffe are on stede,
Into Fraunce wyth the to ryde,
Wyth hors and armys be thy syde,
To helpe the at nede.
When þou some doghtynes haste done
Then may þou shewe þyn errande soone;
The bettur may thou spede.’
He bad hys modur make hur yare
Into Fraunce wyth hym to fare:
He wolde no lenger byde.
Wyth hur she ladd the lyenas
That sche broȝt owt of wyldurnes
Rennyng be hur syde.
There men myght see many a kny[ght],
Wyth helmys and wyth hawberkys bryght,
Forthe ynto the strete.
Forthe they went on a day,
The heþyn ooste on the way
All they can them meete.
Into Fraunce wyth hym to fare:
He wolde no lenger byde.
Wyth hur she ladd the lyenas
That sche broȝt owt of wyldurnes
Rennyng be hur syde.
There men myght see many a kny[ght],
Wyth helmys and wyth hawberkys bryght,
Forthe ynto the strete.
Forthe they went on a day,
The heþyn ooste on the way
All they can them meete.
172
By the baners that þey bare
They knewe þat þey hethyn ware,
And stylle they can abyde;
They dyȝt þem wyth bren[ye]s bryght
And made þem redy for to fyȝt,
Ageyn þem can they ryde.
They hewe þe flesche fro þe bone:
Soche metyng was neuyr none,
Wyth sorow on ylke syde.
Octauyon þe yong knyght,
Thorow þe grace of God almyght,
Full faste he fellyd ther pryde.
They knewe þat þey hethyn ware,
And stylle they can abyde;
They dyȝt þem wyth bren[ye]s bryght
And made þem redy for to fyȝt,
Ageyn þem can they ryde.
They hewe þe flesche fro þe bone:
Soche metyng was neuyr none,
Wyth sorow on ylke syde.
Octauyon þe yong knyght,
Thorow þe grace of God almyght,
Full faste he fellyd ther pryde.
The lyenas þat was so wyght,
When she sawe þe yong knyght
Into the batell fownde,
Sche folowed hym wyth all hur myȝt
And faste fellyd þe folke yn fyȝt:
Many sche made onsownde;
Grete stedys downe sche drowe
And many heþen men she slowe,
Wythynne a lytull stownde.
Thorow God þat ys of myȝtys gode,
The Crysten men þe bettur stode;
The hethyn were broȝt to grownde.
When she sawe þe yong knyght
Into the batell fownde,
Sche folowed hym wyth all hur myȝt
And faste fellyd þe folke yn fyȝt:
Many sche made onsownde;
Grete stedys downe sche drowe
And many heþen men she slowe,
Wythynne a lytull stownde.
Thorow God þat ys of myȝtys gode,
The Crysten men þe bettur stode;
The hethyn were broȝt to grownde.
The Crysten prysoners were full fayne
When þe Sarsyns were yslayne,
And cryed: ‘Lorde, thyn ore!’
He ne stynt ne he ne blanne
To þe prysoners tyll þat he wanne,
To wete what they were.
The emperour, wythowt lees,
That hys own fadur was,
Bowndon fownde he there;
The kyng of Fraunce and odur moo,
Dewkys, erlys and barons also,
Were woundyd wondur sore.
When þe Sarsyns were yslayne,
And cryed: ‘Lorde, thyn ore!’
He ne stynt ne he ne blanne
To þe prysoners tyll þat he wanne,
To wete what they were.
The emperour, wythowt lees,
That hys own fadur was,
Bowndon fownde he there;
The kyng of Fraunce and odur moo,
Dewkys, erlys and barons also,
Were woundyd wondur sore.
174
Hys fadur was the furste man
That he of bondys to lowse began,
Ye wete, wythowten lees;
And he lowsyd hys brodur Floraunce
Or he dud the kynge of Fraunce,
Ȝyt he wyste not what he was.
Be þat hys men were to hym comyn,
Soon they were fro yrons nomyn,
The pryncys prowde yn prees.
Whan he had done þat noble dede,
The bettur he oght for to spede,
To make hys modur pees.
That he of bondys to lowse began,
Ye wete, wythowten lees;
And he lowsyd hys brodur Floraunce
Or he dud the kynge of Fraunce,
Ȝyt he wyste not what he was.
Be þat hys men were to hym comyn,
Soon they were fro yrons nomyn,
The pryncys prowde yn prees.
Whan he had done þat noble dede,
The bettur he oght for to spede,
To make hys modur pees.
A ryche cyté was besyde,
Boldely thedur can they ryde
To a castell swythe;
Ryche metys were there ydyght,
Kyngys, dewkys, erlys and knyght,
All were gladd and blythe.
Syth came Octauyon þe yong wyth honour
And knelyd before the emperour,
Hys errande for to kythe;
That ylke tale that he tolde,
Ryche and pore, yong and olde,
Glad they were to lythe.
Boldely thedur can they ryde
To a castell swythe;
Ryche metys were there ydyght,
Kyngys, dewkys, erlys and knyght,
All were gladd and blythe.
Syth came Octauyon þe yong wyth honour
And knelyd before the emperour,
Hys errande for to kythe;
That ylke tale that he tolde,
Ryche and pore, yong and olde,
Glad they were to lythe.
He seyde: ‘Lorde, yn all þys londe y haue þe soght,
My modur haue y wyth me broght:
I come to make hur pees;
For a lesyng þat was stronge,
Sche was exylyd owt of yowre londe:
I proue that hyt was lees.’
The emperour was neuyr so blythe,
He kyssyd that yong knyght swythe
And for hys sone hym chees.
For yoye that he hys wyfe can see,
Sevyn sythys swownyd he
Before the hye deyse.
My modur haue y wyth me broght:
I come to make hur pees;
For a lesyng þat was stronge,
Sche was exylyd owt of yowre londe:
I proue that hyt was lees.’
The emperour was neuyr so blythe,
He kyssyd that yong knyght swythe
And for hys sone hym chees.
For yoye that he hys wyfe can see,
Sevyn sythys swownyd he
Before the hye deyse.
176
Feyre Florent was full blythe
Of thes tydyngys for to lythe,
And hys modur to see.
Than spekyth þe lady of honowre
To hur lorde the emperour,
Wordys of grete pyté:
‘Lorde, yn all þe sorow þat me was wroght,
Thyn own sone haue y wyth me broght
And kepyd hym wyth me.
Thyn odur sone yn a foreste
Was takyn wyth a wylde beste,
That was ferly feyre and fre.
I wot hyt ys Godys grace,
I knowe hym be hys face:
Hyt ys þat yong knyght by the.’
Of thes tydyngys for to lythe,
And hys modur to see.
Than spekyth þe lady of honowre
To hur lorde the emperour,
Wordys of grete pyté:
‘Lorde, yn all þe sorow þat me was wroght,
Thyn own sone haue y wyth me broght
And kepyd hym wyth me.
Thyn odur sone yn a foreste
Was takyn wyth a wylde beste,
That was ferly feyre and fre.
I wot hyt ys Godys grace,
I knowe hym be hys face:
Hyt ys þat yong knyght by the.’
There was moche yoye and game
Wyth clyppyng and wyth kyssyng same;
Into a chaumbur they yode.
Grete yoye þere was also,
The metyng of the brethurn two,
That doghty were yn dede.
A ryche feste þe emperour made þere
Of kyngys þat were farre and nere,
Of many londys thede;
The tale whoso redyth ryght,
The feste lastyd a fourtenyght,
In jeste as we rede.
Wyth clyppyng and wyth kyssyng same;
Into a chaumbur they yode.
Grete yoye þere was also,
The metyng of the brethurn two,
That doghty were yn dede.
A ryche feste þe emperour made þere
Of kyngys þat were farre and nere,
Of many londys thede;
The tale whoso redyth ryght,
The feste lastyd a fourtenyght,
In jeste as we rede.
Marsabelle that feyre maye
Was aftur sente, the sothe to say,
Fro Parys there sche was.
Crystenyd sche was on a Sonday,
Wyth yoye and myrthe and moche play;
Florent to wyfe hur chees.
Soche a brydale þer was there
A ryaller þer was neuyr noon here,
Ye wot wythowten lees.
Florent hymselfe can hur wedd
And ynto Rome sche was ledd,
Wyth pryncys prowde yn prees.
Was aftur sente, the sothe to say,
Fro Parys there sche was.
Crystenyd sche was on a Sonday,
Wyth yoye and myrthe and moche play;
Florent to wyfe hur chees.
Soche a brydale þer was there
A ryaller þer was neuyr noon here,
Ye wot wythowten lees.
Florent hymselfe can hur wedd
And ynto Rome sche was ledd,
Wyth pryncys prowde yn prees.
178
Than hyt befelle on a day
The emperour began to say,
And tolde þe lordys how hyt was.
The ryche kyngys gaue jugement
The emperours modur schulde be brent
In a tonne of brasse.
As swythe as sche þerof harde telle,
Swownyng yn hur chaumbur she felle,
Hur heere of can sche race.
For schame sche schulde be prouyd false,
Sche schare ato hur own halse
Wyth an analasse.
The emperour began to say,
And tolde þe lordys how hyt was.
The ryche kyngys gaue jugement
The emperours modur schulde be brent
In a tonne of brasse.
As swythe as sche þerof harde telle,
Swownyng yn hur chaumbur she felle,
Hur heere of can sche race.
For schame sche schulde be prouyd false,
Sche schare ato hur own halse
Wyth an analasse.
Therat all the kyngys loghe,
What wondur was þowe þer were no swoghe?
They toke þer leue þat tyde.
Wyth trumpys and wyth mery songe
Eche oon went to hys own londe,
Wyth yoye and wyth grete pryde.
Wyth game and wyth grete honowre
To Rome went the emperour,
Hys wyfe and hys sonys be hys syde.
Jhesu, lorde, heuyn kynge,
Graunt vs all thy blessyng
And yn heuyn to abyde!
What wondur was þowe þer were no swoghe?
They toke þer leue þat tyde.
Wyth trumpys and wyth mery songe
Eche oon went to hys own londe,
Wyth yoye and wyth grete pryde.
Wyth game and wyth grete honowre
To Rome went the emperour,
Hys wyfe and hys sonys be hys syde.
Jhesu, lorde, heuyn kynge,
Graunt vs all thy blessyng
And yn heuyn to abyde!
| Octovian | |