The Buik of King Alexander the Conqueror

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[The Buik of King Alexander]

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[The Buik of King Alexander]

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[OMITTED] That mony hardie knycht of gret renoun
Into þe feild war slane and strikin doun.
The fecht was ferce and fell, þe stour was gret,
Thay war sa vext with pulder and with het;
And as þai stude almost confusit thus,
Sa com fleand ane dragon meruelus,
And straik vpoun þe Prince of Armene,
Quhilk slew sic multitud of his menȝe.
He schane as gold, his fethram was sa fair,
And euir he flaw abone þame in þe air,
And on þair battell straik on euirie syde,
That þair was nane his dintis durst abyde;
The king of þis in hart was wounder proud,
Avant his baner and cryit his senȝe loud,
And euir þe dragon derflie couth þame deir.
It was na mede to fecht with sworde and speir—
Scho schot sic flauchtis of fyre, baith ferce and fell,
Lyke as ane feynd haid fleand cum fra hell,
That þair was neuir man couth mak debate,
Bot fast þai fled, ilkane a syndrie gate.
King Philip saw, and followit on þe chase,
And þis his cuntre haill he conquest hes.
Quhan he haid put his land in gouernance,
And maid his officiaris and his ordinance,
He passit hame agane in his cuntre,
And left þat neidfull was of his menȝe.
And quhan he till his palace cumin was,
He mett his spous, þe Quene Olimpeas:
Sche kissit him, said, “Welcum mot ȝe be!”,
And he beheld so gret with child was sche:
“Olimpeas,” he said, “quhat may þis mene?
I weind ane rycht gude woman ȝe haid bene—
Bot neuir-þeles I ken rycht weill þe case.”
With þat began to greit Olimpeas;
“Lat be,” he said; “þow sall be wite nothing—
The goddis ar mair maister þan þe king.”

Of the visioun that com to King Philip

“I haue all sene be nycht in my avisioun
Alhaill þe gouernance of god Amon,
For as he comperit in þe nycht to þe,
Into þe samyne figure he come to me:
I saw all haill his conuersatioun,
Quhow he apperit in form of ane dragoun,
And of þi birth, it þat he to me said,
I am content, and haldis me weill appayd.”
The quene is blyth, and till hir chalmer went;
The king gart cry ane semble or he stent,
To feist his lordis and mak ane mangerie,
The worthiest of his realm and maist mychttie.
As þai war sett in middis of þe feist,
Sa com þe dragoun, þat meruelus beist,
Fleand and hoverand vp and doun þe hall,
Of quhilk sic mervell haid þe lordis all,
Thay war sa dred þai weynd all haid bene lorn,
For sic thing haid þai neuir sene beforn.
Than said þe king, “Lordingis, be nocht agast—
This is þe dragoun þat befoir ws past,
Intill oure battell in þe land of Armene,
Quhilk was þe maist caus of our victorie.
This is ane angell of þe god Amon,
Quhilk ledis ws till all our gude fortune.”
With þat he schuke his fethram and he blew,
And neir þe Quene Olimpeas he drew,
And with ane sibbling and ane quhispering
He kissit þe quene, sittand besyde þe king.
The king of þis nothing affrayit was,
Nor ȝit þe quene, for þai knew weill þe case.

So fell percase þat efter on ane nycht,
Betuix þe dawing and þe dayis lycht,
Ane visioun com to King Philip lyand,
As him thocht, nother sleipand nor walkand,
And till him semit as be his avisioun
That from þe hevin com fleand till him doun
Ane littill bird, nane fairar nature wrocht,
And in his bosum crap in, as him thocht,

And þair ane quhill restit and reposit,
And þair ane eg sche left him and deposit;
And quhan he opnit to se within his goun,
The bird flaw out, and þair þe eg fell doun,
And in þe falling crakit on þe flure;
Out of him com ane serpent stark and sture,
With mony feit, and wingis forto flee,
Of diuers collouris, rycht [fairlifull] to se,
Quhilk all þe flure sche crepit to and fra,
And oureȝeid all, baith hirn, nuke, and wra;
Quhan sche haid done, com to þe eg agane,
And for to entir in it sche did hir pane,
Bot scho was growin sa gret þan, as him thocht,
Tha[t] on na wyse entir agane scho mocht;
And for to entir as sche hir paynand was,
Sche fell doun ded into þe samyne place.
The king walknit, with þat rycht ill apayd,
And till his chalmerlanis furth-with he sayd
That but delay þai semblit his counsalle,
And all þe wysest clerkis and þe wale
Off Macedone, of Grece, and of Sclauone,
Aprochit to his presence suddantlie.
And quhan þai war all semblit him beforn,
He said, “Lordingis, ȝe ar all to me sworn;
To haue ȝour consellis all it is my will,
For sic ane visioun as apeirit me till,
The quhilk standis on all my fortune hale,
Othir evill or gud, winning or tinsale.”
Thair callit þai þe flour of þair clergie,
Gart ilk man about say his vot aperandlie.
Sa was þair ane þat spak last of all,
Quhilk till his name Aristotill þai call,
Said, “Lord, traist weill þat þow sall haue ane air,
That efter þe sall regn heir and repair;
This warld he sall all conques and ourepas,
And quhan he sua þe warld ourconquest hes,
And wald agane cum in his cuntre,
In his maist welth and gloir þan sall he de.”
Thus is þe king vnto his chalmer went,
Bot in his hart he was nocht all content;

Off þair answeir nocht þan ȝit blyth was he,
For he wist weill, as God will, all mon be.

Now mon we speik of Quene Olimpeas,
Quhilk till hir tyme rycht neir aprocheand was:
So fell ane day, as wemen hapnis oft,
The quene was chawmerit hie vp in ane loft;
Sche tuke ane thracht, þe childe began to steir,
He vext hir sua, and mad hir sic ane beir,
That vneth mycht sche sit, stand, or ly,
Sche was within sa trublit grevously;
And furth-with send efter Nectanabus,
And tauld him quhow scho was distrublit þus,
Quhilk said to hir, “Ȝe ar harbreit oure hie,
The elementis are trublit, as ȝe may se;
The coniunctioun salbe þis day als sone,
And meit sall in ane sign baith sonn and mone,
And fra þe change be past a litill tyme
Ȝe sall relesit be of all ȝour pyne;
Quhair[fore] descend, and lawar mak ȝour laire—
The hear place, þe mair trublit þe air.”
Than com sche doun and did as he hir bad,
And in ane lawer chalmer made hir bed.
The tyme drew neir of hir deliuerance:
Thay gart provide and mak hir ordinance.
Nectanabus haid tald hir day and hour
Sche suld haue chyld withoutin gret dolour,
And alsa fast as euir þe bairn was born,
And on þe erd his mother laid beforn,
Than rais sic thounder, fyrflaucht, and tempest,
That all þe firmament fra est to west
Distrublit was, baith erd, sey, and air,
That þair was nane þairout durst repare,
For affrayitnes of erding and of dreid,
That all þe folk in voltis and cavernis ȝeid,
And hyd þame quhill þe tempest was ourgane;
The beistis on þe feildis þame allane
Rumist and routit, þat hidduis was till heir;
The sey wox red, þat birnand was on steir;
The erd trimblit, and all þe housis schoke;
The hartis of men growit, þair membaris quuke:

Thair was na erdlie thing into þe stour
Bot it was changit, na flesche but dreddour
For all þe goddis, for saik of god Amon;
According to his generatioun,
Als mony ane takin and signe þat day was sene,
That neuir in manis lyf befoir haid bene,
Oure all þe warld als weill as in þat cuntre.
And be þis caus men mych[t] persaue and se,
Suppois it war nocht Godis prouisioun,
It was neuir done but His permissioun,
For als sa far as son schynis on erd,
Sa spred his name, his fortune, and his werde.
The King Philip, þat saw þis meruell fall,
That hale was trublit hevin, erd, and all
Into þe tyme of his natiuitiee,
And meruelit gretlie quhat thing þis mycht be,
He wes dred, and halflingis he was tene,
And furth-with passit in chalmer to þe quene,
And said, “Fair dame, now rycht weill I se
That þis þi birth hes nocht ado with me;
Gif I him put to foster and to nurice,
All men will say that I am nothing wise,
That of þis thing hes witting and knawleg;
And also quhan he cummis to perfyte age
I wald haue dred to mak ane wrangus are,
To put my realm and peopill in dispair,
And all my freindis þat suld succeid me to
Wald say þat þai with him haid nocht ado.
Noch[t] þan þe thing þat I haue hard [and] saw
Garris me be dred, and als I stand gret aw
For to vndo þis bairn or him to spill,
For þe goddis may mak airis at þair will.
Thairfore me think it best, I say for me,
That as my sone and air he fosterit be,
In sted of ane I haid of my first wyf,
The quhilk befoir tyme p[a]ssit of þis lyf.
Thus may we gar men trow þat þis is he,
Sen nane wat of his ded bot I and ȝe;
And till his name ȝoung Alexander ȝe say,
As rychtteous are of Armenie alway;

And heir also I mak him are anone
Off Sclauonie, of Grece, and Macedone;
Sen all þe goddis þairof ar content,
Me think resoun þat I gif him consent.”

Quha was blythar than þe nobill quene,
Quhilk þus desauit wickidlie hes bene.
Nocht þan for-thy sic thing behufit to be
Permisit of God and His authoritie;
Thair may nane put wyte vnto þe worthie king,
That was cleir inn[o]cent of all þis thing.
The bairn was hovin and fosterit, God wat quhow—
It was no neid to bid God help him now—
Off four realmis to hauld of his impyre.
And quhan he com to spek and gang of age,
He passit all vther bairnis of curage,
And als in scholis he consauit mare
Of perfect doctrine, of cuning, and of lare
Na ony bairn þat in þe cuntre was;
Bot he was nothir of body na of face
Lyk to þe king, na to þe mother him bare:
He was lyk ane lyone as of his hare;
He was bot littill of stature of bodie,
And rycht weill hewit in his phisnomie,
But he had ane e mare, ane vther les;
The tane was blak, and glauk þe tother was,
That is to say, quhite wawill-eit in oure leid,
And haistie glydand as ane lyoun he ȝeid;
He was weill membrit and brawnit in his fassoun,
And rysand breistit, hale as ane lioun;
He had ane propir fassoun singularlie,
Lyk to nane vther in all þe land him by.
He was rycht gracius eik, and debonar,
That ilkane louit and fauorit him all quhare,
Gracius in speiche, fare language and tractabill,
And till all thing he set him, passand habill;
Gret ene and ronde, and furth set in his hed;
Ane staitlie luke, and lordlie, and litill gleyd;
His teith was scharpe, and sum part lang and quhyte;
Ane furth-born fere, his steping quike and tite;
Ane awfull blenk rycht with ane fyrie fere,

And euir wald dele and gif away his gere.
He was rycht fre and gud fallow of his mete,
Bot he dedenȝeit nocht with nane to ete,
And with þe lordis sonnis of þe land
He was ay iustand, warsland, and rageand,
And with þat he haid sic pith in all his play
That in all stryf he haid þe maistrie ay,
And lere in ane hour and bere away
Far mare þan ane vther wald vpoun ane day.
Thairfoir þe maisteris louit him oure all thing,
He was sa sweit to lare and to techeing,
And þus into habilitie of cors
He past all vtheris, of wisdome and of force.
He began sone in ȝouthed to be wys,
And euir virtwe louit and haitit vyce;
He louit neuir trature, trumpour, nor iucuris,
Lossingeris, na mowaris, nor hasardouris,
Na cruell men of blud onresonabill,
Na nane war mare to vice nor virtue abill,
Bot ay he louit men for þair worthines
That war inclynit to wit and hardines.
To men of haly kirk he did honour,
Till all wemen and pure folk he was succour;
Agane þe wrang he meinteinit ay þe rycht,
And haitit euir desait, falset, and sleicht;
He haitit als glutonie, adultre, and sweirnes,
And oure all thing onnedfull gredines;
He louit hartfull men þat war weill set,
And þame sustenit, and in þair neid þaim bet;
He mycht neuir tholl pryd vnressonabill,
Na fenȝeit men, þat war nocht veritabill.
As now I may nocht compt all his valoure,
Bot his conditionis maid him conquerour.
Quha wald haue honour, conquest, or victorie,
Wirschip, hie vassaleg, or chaualrie,
Thame neidis nane vther teching na doctour
Bot þis storie to be to þame mirrour,
For it contenis so gret wisdome and wit
That euir þe maire þat men oure-reid of it,
The mair þai sall haue pleasance and lyking,

For ay the langar þe mair gudelie thing.

Alexander haid maisteris of science,
The best mycht be of virtue and prudence;
Mony and sindrie socht war oure all quhair,
Him to instruct in science and lair,
Sum of gramer, sum of philosophie,
Sum in logik, sum in astronomie,
In art-magik and nycromancie alsua;
The quhilk Nectanabus was ane of tha,
Astarus was ane vther, and Leonides,
Carsaligos and Aristotiles,
Bot Nectanabus of his motheris bidding
Was neirest him and maister of his teching,
Throw quhilk þair rais a sclander preuelie
That he suld be his father sickerlie,
Off quhilk þe quene was gretumlie misdemit,
Quhilk nothing till Alexander it semit.
Sa one ane nycht Nectanabus furth went
Forto behauld into þe firmament;
And to þe stern of his natiuitie
Quhan [he] beheld, he fell in ane studie,
And in his mynd worth trist and dolorus.
This seand, Alexander said till him thus,
“Maister, þow seis sum thing þe amovis;
I pray þe schaw me, as þow me louis.”
He said, “It rynis to na man bot to me—
It is þe stern of my natiuitie,
Is ionit with þe stern of my ending,
And me think it suld be ane ferlie thing.”
“Quhy is it ferlie, maister?”, said the bairn;
“May it be fals þat schawis by þe stern?”
“Na, sone,” said he, “bot a thing I behald,
Quhilk þat þe goddis anis on me tald,
And bad me with myne awin bairnis be war,
For myne awin son suld be myne vndoar.”
Than Alexander to þe sclander tuke hed,
And monie said he was his sone indeid,
And for to gar men trow he was nocht sa—
For nane wald traist he wald his father sla,
Na Nectanabus in nathing him mistr[ai]stit,

Bot to þe kirnall of þe tour he him haistit,
To se mare cleirlie þe coniunctioun,
Gif ony change war or mutatioun;
And as he sett þe quadrant till his e,
The child drew neir, and said, “Maister, lat se—
Is ȝone þine ending stern þat I se now?”
And with þat worde he gaue him sic ane sch[o]w
That oure þe kirnall he went with ane fors;
His banis braik, and burst was all his cors,
Sayand, “Þow aw weill sic ane ded to de—
In tyme bygane þow hes it seruit to me.”
He lukit doun and saw him at þe erd:
“Now is þi fortune brokin and þi werde”.
The tother said, “It is haldin all out—
Myne awin sone has me slane, without dout”;
Bot he trow[i]t nocht he was his sone for-þi,
Supois sic sclander passit preuallie.
He granit soir, and spak ȝit at þe last:
“Now se I weill my goddis war all suthfast,
For Alexander, þow art my sone, but dreid;
My goddis said my sone suld do þis deid.
Now se I weill goode end sall neuir be
Off generatioun gottin in adulterie,
And Alexander, I pray þe specially
That nane sic men be in þ[i] company;
And marie ane, and keip þe fra þe laue,
Bot þow þame marie, as þow will wirschip haue,
And keip þe weill for tressoun of þi self,
For swik of tressoun beswikis euir þe self”;
With þat he gaue gaist withoutin mair.
Than Alexanderis hart was wounder sair,
Quhan at his end he said his father he was,
And tuk him vp and in his armes couth bras,
And to þe palace bare him or he ceist,
And doun befoir his mother he him keist,
Sayand, “Mother, my maister I haue slane”;
Off quhilk thythingis þe [quene] was nathing fane:
Sche said, “Allace, my sone, quhy did þow sua?
He was þi father certanlie, but ma;
I was desauit throw him, suthfaslie,

Bot no man wist þe suth bot he and I;
He brocht in to my chalmer god Amone,
And I for fraidnes fell in swone,
And in þe tyme he conuerst with me,
Syne gart me trow þe god Amon wes he.
Ȝit traist I it be sua, sa haue [I] seill,
For King Philip knawis þis mater weill,
And haldis þe as goddis sone and his.
Thairfoir, deir sone, as þow wald haue my blis,
Thow neuir speik of þis mater to þe king,
And gif he speikis to þe in ony thing,
Tell him þat god Amon warnit the
That of þis warld hale conquerour sall þow be.”
“Mother,” he said, “þat is ane suthfast tale,
For all þe goddis are þairon accordit hale,
And traistis þat be þe iugement
Of all þe doctouris, in þe firmament
The goddis all ar consentand of þis,
And þat my birth be þame providit is;
Thus, sen I maid was throw þair ordinance,
And suld be reulit be þair gouernance,
That efter King Philip be laid in grave,
Na father bot god Amon will I haue,
For King Philip my father tald me hale
Quhow god Amon helpit him in battell,
Fechtand with him in gyse of ane dragone,
And fellit of his fayis gret fusoun,
And quhow he apperit to him be ane visioun,
And maid with ȝow my generatioun.
Thus sen all hale þe case knawis he and ȝe,
Suppois he will nocht ȝit it publist be,
Efter his deth me thing maist resoun
That I me call þe sone of god Amon.”

Quhan Alexander was cumin to [twelf] ȝeir of eild,
He vsit him to play with speir and scheild,
For nature schawis þe craft þat bairne will to,
Efter his natur, as he seis vther do;
He was baith hardie, virtuus, wyse, and wycht,
And lyke ane lord quhan he was prouidlie pycht.
Than was þe king þairof blyth and ioyus

Quhan he saw Alexander him gouern þus,
And quhan Nectanabus was ded away,
Than Aristotill þai gart byd with him ay;
In Athenes þe gret vniuersitie,
Thair at þe schole in ȝouthed maist was he.
Bot ȝit supois þat Aristotell, flour of clergie,
In phisik magik and nicromancy
Experience haid, ȝit thocht he it was ill
It for to wse, in resoun and in skill;
Thocht he expert and knawand all thing was,
He vsit nocht bot virtue and godlines,
For all his will, wit, and intentioun
Was set to virtue, gudnes, and ressoun.
And efter þat Alexander haid lerit alhale
The sevin science of clergie naturall,
Than techit he him þe hie astronomie,
Baith artmagik and necromancie,
Off weird of fortune be physinomie,
And als þe practik of þe palmastrie.
Syne into morall virtue he him foundit,
And into wit and wisdome he him groundit,
And bad him, gif he thocht till haue victo[ur],
And cum to glore, wirschip, and honour,
That euir he sett resoun befoir his deid,
And help all pure and peciabill at neid,
And, all supois he haid þe subtiltie
Off artmagik and necromancie,
Bad him nocht vse, bot keip him fra dessait,
And all sic thing was devilrie and falset,
And all þir goddis and mawmentis was bot deuilrie,
And þat þair was bot ane God anerlie,
Quhilk spirituall was, nother mettell, stane, nor tre,
Bot inuisibill in His diuinitie,
Quhilk all thing reulit and gouernit halelie.
And, gif he thocht to cum to victorie,
That he war [neuir] cruell of mannis blude,
Bot haue pietie of man, quhow euir it stude,
For sen he bare a manis portrature,
He suld haue pietie of his awin nature,
And loue and honour Him þat manhed wrocht,

And nycht and day haue Him intill his thocht,
For gif grace of fortune schapin to men be,
It cumis of Him, for Lord of all is He.
And, gif him hapnit of ony to mak were,
He suld kirkmen and laboraris forbere,
To eild and gentryce euir mair to be freind,
And euir do wirschip to all wemen kynd,
And keip him self in clenenes fra all vyce,
And namelie out of pryde and couatyce,
For avarice is rute and ground of all,
And pride left neuir his maister but ane fall.
“Keip þi men, and be tender of þair staite,
Gar provay þame of victuall air and late,
Remufe in tyme, and travell litill in hett,
Depairt þe sleip to þine ost on þe day,
And on þe nycht tholl nane sleip gif þa[i] may;
Cast of þi wache, discouerand on all syde,
Ryd sarralie, skaill nocht þi men oure wyde,
Luge in full land, and neuir bot on ane ryueir,
And neir sum wode hald ay þi fayis on steir,
And euir hald spyis in þair company—
Mak þairon cost, it sall þe quyte treuly.
Stryk nane rudelie in reuling of þine ost,
Contrar na man, na glawmer man, na bost;
Speik honour of all men in audience,
And þame commend—gar do þame reuerence;
Be gude bakfreind, and heir of nane defame—
Ill takin is to gif ane blind man blame;
And correck þame þat may correckit be,
Sweit at part, be þame allane and þe;
Gif ony be vicius, and will nocht mend,
Pay him his fe and hame agane him send;
Loife ay gude men, bot nocht [in] þair presens;
Quha sa lak wald, mak ay for þame defence,
And fo[r] gude deid reward ay mychttelie;
Lat neuir þi gudis haue of þi hairt maistrie.”
Quhan Aristotill taucht him þis priuelie,
Thane lerd he him to knaw a phisnomy,
And quhow he suld be visage or stature,
And be þe pairtis of manis portrature,

Tak perfyte vnderstanding and knawleg
Off þair conditioun, nature, and curage;
And als þe fortune þat lay þame beforn,
Quhidder men to bliss or barret suld be born,
Into þe plenettis cleirlie couth he se,
Wittand þe hour of þair natiuitie.

The King Philip haid maid his orasoun
Till his goddis with gret deuotioun,
To send him trew and suthfest certening
Quha efter him suld succeid to be king,
And þai him tauld, bot he it held secre,
That he suld traist, þat man his are suld be
Quhilk mycht and durst þe ramist distrale dant,
And handill him to ryde him and to hant,
Quhilk till his name was callit Busefall,
Of quhilk all men þat knew him haid mervell
That sic ane hors was formit be nature,
For þair was neuir nane lyk of portrature;
And als of his conditioun and effeire,
It was lyk he was ordant for þe were,
Quhilk was in keiping into Capadose;
And for þe prince haid sic honour and lois
Of King Philipis, he send to him to speir
Gif sic ane hors mycht serve till maisteir,
And tauld him als his fassoun vterlie,
His conditioun and feiris halilie.
His body was weill schapin as ane hors,
Rycht propir in portrature in all his cors:
His mayne wes crist, and lokkerand hingand doun,
Curland as dois þe craig of ane lioun;
His breist was bred, as milk his hair was quhyte,
Weill maid behind, weill polist, in gude plyte,
Clovin in þe gu[m]p, with ane weill sett on taill,
Baith lang and schire, lach hingand as a vale,
Weill pasturit, hovit, and of gud mesure—
Thair was na falt into his portrature,
Bot þat his hed was till ane bull simlabill;
And in his trot was neuir hors moir abill;
Rycht litill erit, with tua gret rolland ene,
Bred of þe cheik, weill vpset on þe chin,

Hie browit, and rycht wyde vnder þe choke,
Gret neckit, cumand on þe widderlok,
And weill small at þe cuplin of þe hewide.
Natur in him na thing vnmade haid levid,
Bot þat he haid fyve hornis in his croun,
Lang teith and scharpe, most lyk till a lioun,
Schort, braugy nosit, and small at þe musell,
Wyd neis-thirlit, and sueirit cleir and hale;
His hed was soft, small, lengy as cordwan,
His creist was round, and glitterand was his mane,
And changit hew as sone in someris daye,
Lyk till ane pacok taill in middis of Maye,
With damask daupillis on craupoun and on creist,
With wantoun walope, and bridlit at beheist.
He eat na thing bot f[l]esche to his pasture,
And flesche of man maist plesit his nature.
He was boundin with iron chenȝeis fast,
Baith hed and feit, with lokis þat was traiste,
For first in ȝouthed, or men couth him ken,
Of his keiparis he wirreit mony men.
He was put in ane tubbe of allabast,
Ane brander of iron befoir him lokit fast,
And throw þat brander, lyke till a port-culis,
His mett was put intill him at a vice,
Be ane turnand gin throw hi[s] barier—
Thare durst na man cum till his trillis neir.
Quhan ony was condempnit be iustice,
Thay keist þame to þat hors in his trillis,
Quhilk fra þai com till him he maid na bade,
Bot with ane wisk ane end of þame he made:
Sum he reaf with his tuskis and þame ett,
All bot þe bowellis, with þair hed and fete.
Als throw þe trillis men mycht se lyand
Off dempnit men mony ane fut and hand—
Thair durst few men aventure him to se,
Sa wode ane luke and sa glourand haid he.

Than Alexander was warni[s]t mychtilie
In wit, wisdome, and science of clergie;
In Athenes, quhair flour of wisdome was,
He haid contenit þe studie ane lang space

With Aristotill, quhilk was þe worthiest
In science naturall, and eik þe best,
And in all science, as we haue said beforn,
For sic as he sen syne wes neuir born.
Be þat was Alexander of fyftene ȝeir,
And thocht þat it was tyme him to steir,
And thocht he wald na langar byd at lare,
Bot hame to Macedone þan wald he fare.
Sa it befell þat Philip þe king
Haid gart proclame ane generall iusting,
At quhilk ȝoung Alexander fane wald haue bene,
Bot þat complesit nothing to þe quene.
He gart oure-seik þe cuntre far and neir,
To se gyf he mycht find ane fare destrair,
Ane sturdie steid þat was in iusting habill,
Proferand mair gold na war resonabill,
Bot he couth find nane þat war of sic fassoun
That he wald denȝe him to ryde vpoun.
The sembill of þe iusting aprochit neir—
The Prince of Capadoce tuke þe destreir,
And langald him with irn langaldis fast
On euirie syde, þat on na wayis wald brast,
With hilter and with chenȝe and musell as a bere,
That in travell he suld nocht hurt na deire,
And till ane chare of foure quheilis him band,
With armit men keipand on ilk hand,
And send sua to þe King of Macedone.
And als fast as he lukit him vpone,
He gaif him sic ane favour and a loue,
And sone ane closer gart for him controue,
With port-culis turnand with ane gin,
Thay leit befoir him fall quhan he was in,
With ane wyde tirlis þat throw men mycht him se,
And certane keiparis by him ay to be;
Quhan ony was condempnit be iustice,
Thay keist thame to him oure [þe] port-culis;
And quhan he was þe closer enterit in,
Thay lousit þe musell, þat closit was with a gin,
And þan was nathing fasnit bot his feit.
Na kynd of fude vther þan flesche he eat,

And þat God wat, na falt of flesche haid he—
The king haid biddin þat he suld haue plentie.

Off the kyndnes of Busefall, and quhow Alexander and he met, and quhow Alexander handlit him.

Quhan Alexander haid hard of þis tything,
That sic ane present send was to þe king—
Sa fair ane hors, sa mervelus ane destrall,
That all þat saw him haid sa gret meruell,
With tuskis and hornis lyk till ane bull his hed,
Na man mycht handill him bot he was ded—
And wald on na wayis ces quhill he him saw—
He saw neuir thing þat euir he stude of aw.
Sa fell on ane day he passit to þe place
Quhair Busefall þe cursour inclusit was;
Quhan þat he com vnto þe tirlis neir,
The hors keist vp his hed and gaue ane sneir,
And to þe tirlis com fast battrand,
For he traistit sum met was till him cumand.
He was closit in ane gret volt of ane cave,
Quhare he mycht nother lycht nor ȝit are haue,
Bot onlie throw þe tirlis of þe dure;
With schillis gret oure-braudit was þe flure;
He fra þe stane þat he mycht ly on loft,
Thik strinklit with þe gloy he lay dry and soft.
Than Alexander beheld him busillie,
And all þe partis of him culd espy;
The hors haid ay till Alexander ane e,
And Alexander haid gud will him to se.
His keperis was ill payit he com sa neir,
For caus he was sa ramage and sa feir,
For sindrie folk haid tint baith feit and hand,
That throw þe tirlis was with him tigand;
Thairfoir þai counselit him to stand abak,
For dout he gat sum menȝe or sum lak.
Than Alexander persauit þe hors feir,
And traistand þat he suld him nothing deire,
And throw þe tirlis in he put his hand,
Rycht at þe place quhaire þe hors was standand,
And als sa fast he daynit and he snokit,

And all his flesche trimlit for ioy and quokit,
And with his toung he likit all his hand,
Movand his tale be manere as fawnand,
And Alexander, persauand in him love,
Put in his arm ȝit forthir for to proue;
Than Alexander, þat was war and wise,
Gart men gang swyth draw vp þe portculis.
As Alexander enterit within þe dure,
The hors fell doun on kneis on þe flure,
And vp his musell held to kis his hand,
As with ane plesance snokand and lykand—
Mare kynd is none dume beist vpoun þe ground
To mannis flesche as other hors or hound,
For þai will greit to se þair maister de,
And keip his graue efter he erdit be,
For þai will knaw thair maister be his smak,
And in till mirknes knawlege to him mak.
Quha was mare blyth na Alexander was,
Quhilk in his armes þe hors hal[s] can bras,
Gart lous his fetteris, and furth he him led;
All harnes till his corps bring he bade,
And on him lap and to þe palace red.
Bot lord! quhat blythnes þairof King Philip haid:
“Now am I sicker þairof for þow art he
To myne are succeid suld efter me.”
That hors sa meit was for his gouerning—
Him thocht þair suld nane ryde him bot ane king;
With þat he was sa plesand in affere,
And als sa weill and staitlie set his gere,
And sa propir of all his portrature,
Thair was na thing to mend of his figure;
In trotting, runing, and in galoping,
He past all vther in all his gouerning.
Fra Alexander him anis ryddin haid,
Till all his men siclyke gude cheir he maid,
Bot quhan ony vther schupe on him to ryde,
He rampit sa, þair durst na man him byde.

Bot or þe day of iusting cumin was,
Thair com tything þat ane King Nicolas
With ost was cum to Littill Armenie,

It for to conques, baith be land and see,
The quhilk was king of Percie and of Mede,
Off quhilkis þai peopill hartlie with him ȝeide,
And king he was also of Aridans,
And haid his power semblit all at anis.
Thair King Philip aganis him thocht to pas,
Bot Alexander, quhilk sa enamorit was
On Busefall, maid request to þe king
That he wald preve [him] with sum gouerning,
And for to mak him cheif and gouernour,
As for this tyme to preif to win honour.
Off þat King Philip was weill ap[a]yit,
And he him self sa fane wald haue asayit,
And ordinit him ane battell meruelus
Of worthie men and knychttis curagius,
Quhilkis in þis warld desyrit nathing mair
Than to be enterit to battell and werefare,
And bad him tak all thing þat he thocht best,
Baith hors and harnes and gold þat him leste,
And put to him wys counsell of clergie,
Ephistik, Saliges, and Ascrivie,
With Aristotell, þat was his maister deir,
His counsall, and his persoun ay most neir.
Bot Alexander on þis wys counselit was,
That he suld speik first with King Nicolas,
Mak him offeris and exortatioun
To be content, of law and of resoun,
And gif he war fra ressoun turnit all,
He ressoning suld gar farrare fall,
For quha resone forsaikis communlie,
Ressoun foirsaikis þame alluterlie.
Thus Alexander chesit out of his menȝe
Ane certane of þe best horst and maist hardie,
Gart þame turs with him gold to mak his cost,
And passit evin to King Nicolas ost.
King Nicolas, quhilk saw men þus cummand,
Quhat þai suld be he fane wald vnderstand,
Come þame to meit with sic ane lyk menȝe,
And bad his ost hald þame in þair semblie.
King Nicolas, but salutatioun,

Sayis, “Quhat art þow þat cumis on þis fassoun?
For I wald wit now, or þow forder ga,
To my battell quhidder þow be freind or fa.”
Than Alexander answerit rycht sobirlie,
“I am sone to King Philip, certanlie—
Alexander, but dreid, is my rycht name,
Olimpeas my lady mother and dame;
As to þe tother point þat þow said me,
I wat na caus of fede nor inemitie
That suld betuix ws be as hidder-tillis,
Bot as men sayis, mak till ws war þi willis;
Gif I be so, me think þat þow hes wrang,
Sen we but were hes freindis bene sa lang.”
Than spak King Nicolas as man aggrevit—
Oure litill state him maid, as he belevit—
And said, “Quhat wenis þow, freind, quhat man I be?
Hes þow nane vther knawleging of me?”
“Ȝis,” said he, “I knaw rycht weill a thing,
Off Aridanis þat þow art lord and king,
Bot beir þe nocht þe hear for þi vastout,
To do wrang to þi nychtbouris þe about;
Prid þe nocht in þi royall maiestie—
Thow art bot man, ane king suppois þow be,
Na traist nocht in gret nummer of battell,
For realm but ressoun reulit sone will fale.”
King Nicolas haid dispyte and inuy,
Sa ȝoung a prince to speik sa resonably,
With sic ane mesure and a sobernes,
And, as him thocht, nathing abesit was,
And for to do him greif or villanie
It haid bene bot ane point of cowardie,
Sen he with sa few a menȝe com him till,
And, as him thocht, him anterit in his will,
Sayand, “Tell ws quhat caus movit þe
Cum with sa few menȝe to speik with me,
And I sa gret ane emperiour and lord,
And mufis to me sic materis of discord?”
He said, “I am send to þe by my king,
To speir quhairfoir þow makis þis gaddering;
Supois ane mychtie emperiour þow think þe,

In litill space þi micht may lawit be:
Men seis oft hie pridfull men cum law,
And pure and simpill men to lordschip draw.”
Than Nicolas persauit in him weill
That he in worde forbure him neuer a deill,
And nane with him bot thre hunder knychtis haid,
And word for word þis at þe bey him baid;
And sayd he haid nocht sene as of his age
Ane ȝoung man sa ferm in his language,
Bad him go hence and pas his father till,
And þat sone eft he suld wit of his will.
Than Alexander said þat he com vncald,
And hame agane vnbiddin pas he wald,
Baid him pas furth vntill his companie—
He suld agane him visie haistelie.
King Nicolas þan brint as fyre in ter,
And spittit at King Alexander on fer;
Than Alexand[er] gaue him ane defyence,
With all his power and his allyance,
And þair, but mare, þai set day of battell,
Quhair þai suld meit in feild, withoutin fale.
Quha was mare blycht na Alexander þe ȝing?
And tald alhale till his father þe king,
Quhilk semblit all þe lordis of þe cuntre,
Off Grece, of Macedone, and of Armenie,
And chargit þame in haist to cum him till,
That he mycht heir þair counsall and þair will.

The Quene of Grece haid haird þe mater hale
Of Alexander and als of Busefale;
Till þair message rycht worthe cheir sche made,
And to þame send ane notabill embassade,
Thre hund[r]eth hors trappit with harnessing,
With armour sic as ganit for batteling,
Ane hundreth webbis of silk, siluer and gold,
To Alexander, to dele to quhome he wald;
With þat ane crowun, quhilk passit mekill thing,
Off massie gold, with stanis of merueling,
And fyftie mulis with cunȝeit gold alsua,
Till Alexander, his purveyance to ma,
Twelf chariottis closit with helmis and habergion,

With swordis steill, speir, pinsall, and pinnon,
Ane thousand bachelaris with cottarmes [on] bak,
Quhilk mycht for worthines þe ordour of knychthed tak,
Ten thousand ablesteris, weill bodin for were,
That nane wantit ane pint of all his gere.
Ambassad rycht sa com fra Armenie,
Sa did þair fra þe landis of Sclauonie,
And þus to Macedone thair cuming was,
Ane gret ambassad fra King Nicolas,
Askand [tribut] of Grece and Macedone,
Or ellis he suld cum visie þame anone.
Than haid ȝoung Alexander ane fare menȝe
Of ȝoung princis wald fane at battall be.
Of þis tything Phylip brint as fyre,
Bot Alexander movit him nothing till yre.
Than King Philip semblit his counsall sone,
Quhat of þis thing was best for [to] be done;
Thus said Alexander: “Father, I ȝow require
That to King Nicolas may I mak answeir.”
King Philip said, “Fare sone, me lykis weill
That ȝe ansueir, for ȝe wat all my feill.”
Ȝoung Alexander, of þis wise weill apayit,
Gart call þe messingeris, and þus he to þame said:
“Freindis, sayis to ȝour lord on þis maneir
Langand his tribut þat he askis ws heir:
I sall it bring myne awin persone him till,
Sa for to bid me þat, gif it be his will,
Wpoun a speir-point, scharpe and wele scharand,
I sall þe tribute bring into my hand,
And quhilk of ws be maister of vther ma,
Thay sall þe tribut tak and bere awa;
He wat þe day is sett to him and me—
With Goddis grace þat day I sall him se.”
Rewardis to þe messinger[is] he gaue,
And gart convoy þame hameward sound and saue—
Than was nocht ellis bot quha mycht best purvay
To graith baith hors and harnes for þe day.

The King Philip sa blyth was of þat thing,
That Alexander haid maide sic answering,
And alsua of þe nobill chavelrie

Quhilk cuming was of Grece sa honorablie,
He gart prouide ane thousand knychtis to mak,
For honour of ȝoung Alexanderis saik,
Quhilk þan of eild passit nocht auchtene ȝeir;
Bot he was wyse, baith stout, hardie, and feir,
Sober, with þat weill temperit in prudence
Off hie knawleg in virtue and science.
The feist was sset, the bathis ordant alsua,
With all prouisioun knychtis for to ma;
Than Alexander of all his chavelrie
Gart wryt þe names of all þe mast worthie,
That he mycht haue into perfyt knawlege
To thank ilkane efter þair vassalege,
And do þame honour efter þair desert;
Quha drew abak and quha drew forderwart,
Quha war maist fant and quha best hartis hes,
It suld apeir best into battell place,
For lordis ar oft desauit of þair menȝe,
Wenand for þat þai meik in chalmer be,
That þai suld rycht sua best-lyk be in feild;
Quhan þai inarmit ar, and couerit vnder scheild,
Than sall men knaw quha worth is till honour,
Quhan þai ar sted in battall and [in] stour,
For bostouris, tulȝeouris, of feris wanting maist,
Ar communlie in battell place hindmaist.
Bot lord! quhat þat was ane royall warldlie sycht,
To se new maid sa mony royall knycht!
Than Alexander depairtit halilie
Till his knychtis clething and ieualrie,
The armit hors with all þair proud trapouris,
And silkin clething till his vauassouris,
And all þat cunȝeit gold be þe leist mule,
Amangis [his] men he delt with litill dule.
Mair plesand prince, na blyth, mycht no man se,
Quhan he sa lykand saw his companie,
With sic ane blythnes and a bald curage,
And be þe maist pairt all of his awin age,
For it was said, quhan his mother was lycht,
Ane thousand ladyis was lychter on þat nycht,
Sum on þat day, and som vpoun þe morn,

The samyne day þat Alexander was born,
That was to say, of Grece and Armenie,
And als in Macedone and in Sclauonie,
The quhilk, becaus þai war of his awin eild,
Thay faworit þe mare to pas with him in feild;
Mony lovit him weill becaus þai fallois ware
In Athenes, at studie and at lare,
And of all þir, þair was nane bot þai ware
Lordis þame self, or ellis þair fader are;
And þis thay said all was throw desteny,
That all þe goddis haid ordant sa to be.
Quhan Alexander baith gold and clething delt,
Till his awin corps small clething he helt,
Bot anerlie his hors and his arming,
With all statis þat ferit for ane king,
And be þe purest in his company
He armit and rewardit rychelie,
That throw þe nobilnes of his fre curage
He wan þe hartis sua of his barnage;
He held rycht nocht, bot all to þame he gaue,
That þame hed levir de na him to leaue—
He was sa sweit and blyth to his menȝe
That euirie man haid ioy on him to se.

Quhan Alexander haid ordand his battell attyre,
And all was payit of wage and of hyre,
Than sett he for to mak his ordinance
Off officieris to keip his obseruance,
And in þe first, twelf duzeperis he made,
Of þe hiest lordis and of þe gretest haid,
At quhilk lordis he wald his counsell tak,
And all his ordinance be þame mak;
Syne maid he his luftennend-generall,
That is to say, þe duke of his battall:
The duke of battall suld þe vangarde haue,
The leftennend suld gouern all þe laue,
And with þe counsall of þe duzepeiris
Suld set all offeiciaris as to þame affeiris;
The king in nothing occupeit suld be,
Bot in gret caus of all noueltie.
Off marascalis þai ordand alwayis tua,

On euirie syde þe battell ane of tha,
With ilk ane, ane gret battall and a sure,
The quhilkis ar callit wingis in preparature;
The admirall, and maister of ablestre,
Befoir þe duk in battall suld þai be,
With armit cartis, crapald, and colubringis—
Befoir þe battell suld be set all sic thingis;
And als tua cheif discuriouris maid he,
To ryde about, all parrell for to se;
In reirgarde a battall stark he made,
Of þe eldest and maist traist men he hade,
That gif þe wingis þat war to confuge,
At þe reirgard þai suld ay get refuge;
And in þe gret battall ordand he
The king and all þe duzepeiris for to be:
Thair was þe lordis of Grece and Sclauonie,
Off Macedone, Alier, and A[r]menie;
That battell was als stark as ony tour,
That for ane neid all suld to it retour;
He ordant [in] þat gret middill ward to be
In his cott-armour tua lordis or thre,
and quhan þai wenit till haue him þair, but dout,
He was in battall formost in þe rout.
It was gret ioy to se þair proud penonis,
Thair baneris, standartis, and þair gunphionis,
Glitterand of gold, asure, purpir, and sabill,
Quhilk to behald was passand delectabill,
Quhan þat þe sone into þe Maii mornin[g]
Glitterand reskewit from þe brych arming,
And syne þe trumpettis, schawmis, and menstrallie
Maid sic ane reird it was gret melodie,
The hors pransand, þe men of music sang,
And on þe buskis þe birdis sang amang,
That quhan þai passit throw Macedon vale,
The sound redoundit fra þe hevin, thocht me.

Than Aristotill to counsall and avise
Was callit, with þame to schape þair interprise;
The douzepeiris and all þe gret counsall
And all þe princis war þair assemblit hale,
And callit haraldis, and bad discryve þe some,

Arrayit þe ost and delt ilk prince his roum,
And set þe wardis and watchis as it suld stand,
Send foirrydaris and furiouris oure all þe land,
With discouerouris and fugeand fleand stalis,
To bring tythingis agane to pair battalis.
And as þe king was þus in rout rydand,
Thair com ane fair ȝoung man rycht fast gangand,
Fair as ane maidin rycht of fax and face,
Bot all his clething revin and raggit was,
Bare leg he was, ane schort staf in his hand,
And efter þe ȝoung king he was sperand.
Thay gart him trow þat Tholome was king,
Quhilk callit him, and speirit of his tything;
He lukit till his hors, baith hie and law,
Said, “Þis is nocht þe king, weill I knaw—
He rydis ane hors þat is of mak meruell,
The quhilk to name is callit Busefall;
I hard of him spekand King Nicolas,
And tald of all þe fassoun þat he was”;
With þat amang þe lordis he beheld,
And Tholome þan to þe king he teld.
Than speirit þe king quhan com þe bachelare;
He said, “Fra Pers I com, of presoun seir.
My father quhilum was King Omere;
I am deshereist throw my vnkill deir—
Dare, King of Pers, my mother brother is;
He hes me haldin sevin ȝeiris in fetteris,
And thocht in prisoun for to gar me de;
The geoler of prisoun helpit me
And becaus I haue hard of þi renoun,
Alsa fast as I was fred of presoun,
I cessit neuir quhill I þi battall gat;
Thay say þow helpis all pure and desolat,
And all hereit þow helpis to restoir—
Gret God of Hevin mot þe reward þairfoir.”
With þat vpoun his kneis he satt adoun,
Sayand, “Lord, sen my father bare a croun,
And kingis state hes haldin in his dayis—
And wranguslie dishereist, as men sayis,
Be myne awn ame, King Dare, my mother broþer,

The quhilk till sone haid me and neuir vther—
That þow wald of þi lordschippe and þi grace
Help to restore me, wrangit, fatherles.”
The king was mouit to pietie hartfullie
Quhan þat he saw þe child sa pitiuslie
Mak his complent, and nathing causles;
The teiris com doun twinkland oure his [face],
Throw his rent weid men saw his fair lykame.
Than said þe king, “Fair sone, quhat is þi name?”
“Sawsone,” said he, “fair schir, my name is cald;
My freindis sayis I am auchtene ȝeir ald.”
“Auchtene,” said he; “men sayis þat is my date;
Thow art rycht welcum to me, fair sone, Go[d] wat—
Thow art ane kingis air, and I ane vther;
I sall do to þe as þow war my brother.”
The king lychtit, and [c]ald his chalmerlane,
Gart get him clething till his bodie gane,
Syne gart enarme him for haid of vantage,
Fyve hunder pairis, tursit by careage,
Gart bring his hors, and hensmen four or fyve—
Ane fairar ȝoung lord was þair nane on lyve.
The king gart gif him gold in haboundance,
And gaue him certane men in gouernance,
Betaucht him for to teche to Tholome,
For he was wysar of þe were þen he.
Than said þe king, “Me thocht I hard ȝow say
King Nicolas ȝe saw þis hinder day”;
Samsone answarit, and said, “Lord, suth is sua,
And rycht gret wowis of þe I hard him ma,
Sayand, bot gif King Philip gaif him trew,
As vther dois of Macedone and Grew,
Se þat he fand him nocht in þat cuntre;
And þair-with-all I hard him say of þe
That þow was bot ane ȝoung folt and a page,
And of þe weris as ȝit haid no knawlage—
He wald þe haue to chastie þe and blame,
And send þe to Olimpeas þi dame,
To strukin þe ȝit ane quhile fra þe were;
Thow art oure tender ȝit arming to bere,
And traistis nocht þow will cum to þi day,

Na fecht wih him with power þow na may.”

Than said þe king, “Samsone, I will ȝe may
My messinger, and till him sall ȝe ga
On my behalf, and till him sall þow say
That I am cumand heir to hald my day;
I am send fra my father, Philip king,
Tribut of Grece and Macedone to bring,
And gif him thinkis þe tribute he will haue,
Bid him cum furth him self it till resaue,
For till nane vther bot till his awin persone
I will it pay, befoir men of resoun;
And se þow bring me anser or þow stint,
And say, on him me list nocht steill no dint,
‘Bot or þow pas, þow sall me mak homage,
To hald of me all hale þine heretage—
I sall it win with grace of God of mycht’”;
And with þat worde, furth-with he made him knycht.
Than Tholome said, “Lord, I vnderstand,
And he war peciabill lord of all his land,
Of gude men he mycht rais in his cuntre
Ten thousand fechtaris out of a citie,
And of his realm, and he haid peciabill,
Ane hundreth thousand worthie men and habill;
I knaw his land, for it is callit Dalie,
Besouth half Pers, betuix it and þe see.”
Than said þe king, “Lordingis, mak gud cheir:
God is oure freind, þat sendis ws sic ane feir.”
With [that], Samsone passit furth his way,
Till King Nicolas his message for to say,
And till him tald his tale in gude maner;
He haid gud language, and ane gude scholare,
And vnabasit comptit him all his tale—
Fra end to end, þe text he tald him hale.
With þat þe king smirkit ane litill wee,
[C]ald his lordis, and bad þame all draw ne,
And bad him say furth agane his message,
Quhow Alexander was bringand him trewage;
With þat he begouth to ramp as ane lioun,
And maid þairat bot ane derisioun.
Than said Samsone, “Schir king, I ȝow declair

That sic ane tribut resa[u]it ȝe neuir mair:
He bad me say, and do ȝow weill to knaw,
Ane hundreth thousand scheildis he sall ȝow schaw,
Of all his land þe choise of thesaurie—
Was neuer sic cunȝeit in ȝour company;
He sall þame schaw in ane feild ȝow beforn,
But mare delay, þe thrid day fra to-morn,
And bad me say ȝow, gif ȝour willis ware,
That corps for corps he wald ȝow meit, but mare,
On hors inarmit with both spere and scheild,
Befor þe battallis baith, in mid þe feild,
To saif þe blude of man þat did na mis,
That of oure querell no thing culpabill is.”
Thus Aristotill counsalit þat he suld do,
To draw þe hartis of his men him to,
For he wist weill and knew be destanie
That he suld neuir in feild disconfist be,
And als his hors, quhilk faucht as a lioun,
Baith hors and man with his teth wald ryfe doun.
Than anserit Nicolas in þis maner:
“Go furt and schaw þi maister, meissinger,
That quhow-euer him list, in quhat maner and plyte,
He salbe seruit at his awin appetyte.

“Bot messinger, and thing þow wald me tell—
Quhow lang has þow with Alexander done duell?
For as me think, þow art of tender age,
And mekill fro þame differis in language,
Quharefoir I pray þe tell me suthfaslie
Quhare þow was born, and of quhat senȝeorie,
For as me think, it schawis in þi visag
That þow art cumin of sum nobill parage.”
“Certis,” said he, “þe suth I bid nocht lane:
I am King Omeris sone of Pers, certane;
My mother als is sister to King Dare—
He hes me haldin in prisone sevin ȝeir þair,
And for my father wald nocht pay him trewage,
He slew my father and haldis my heretage:
I suld be king be rycht of all Dalyis,
Quhilk sidlangis Pers, endlang þe Grek Se lyis.”
Than in his armes him brassit King Nicolas:

“Thow art myne awin cousing, be Goddis grace,
It war more resoun þat þow duelt with me;
I sall mak pece betuix þine ame and þe,
And now furth-with ane erle I sall þe mak,
Sa þat þow will ȝoung Alexander forsaik,
And cum to me and be of my duelling,
Quhill I accord þe with þine ame þe king.”
The child anserit, said, “Lord, quhow may þis be?
To be ane tratour wald ȝe counsell me?
For haid ȝe sene in sic a simpill aray
Off presoun fra myne eame I brak away,
And quhow King Alexander now þus hes me dycht
In stait of prince, and hes me dubbit knycht—
I haid levir thole dede ane hunder sys
Na consent till his damnage or dispris;
And of ane thing ȝit I meruell me,
Quhow Dare myne eame, throw ȝow myne eame suld be—
He louit ȝow neuir, bot held ȝow ay in were;
Thairfoir I traist þis is bot fenȝeit fere,
Me till vndo, ane trature for to be,
For ill of him, mare þan for gude of me.”
Thus Samsone tuk his leve, and hame agane
Vnto þe osting com with all his mane.
Sa it befell þat with King Nicolas
Thare was duelland a knycht quhilk cousing was
To King Omere, quhilk [king] was [of] Dalis,
And quhan he saw þe kingis sone Sams[on]is,
His memberis trimllit and his harte vprais,
And at King Nicolas his leif he tais,
Sayand, “Fare schir, for God displeis ȝow nocht:
I haue ȝone child in mony cuntre socht;
I haue bene with his freindis holdin deir—
His father held me of his kin rycht neir.
Haif me excusit, I mon gang quhair he gais—
I loif my God þat to me send him hes.”
With that he buskit him rycht suddantlie,
And passit with Samsone to his company,
And to þe oist þai com in þe morning,
And all þir tythingis comptit to þe king.

The king gart call þe knycht in his presence,
And gaue him giftis; and made him reuerence,
And tald to þe king all haill þe case
Betuix ȝoung Samsone and King Nicolas.
The king, quhilk hard þe gentrice of þe childe,
He lichtit doun in midwart of þe feild,
Gart call þe douzepeiris, and gart [tell] þame þe trane,
That Nicolas haid sent þe child agane,
And quhow þe child haid anserit vterlie,
And done his message weill and hardelie,
And quhow þat knycht quhilk þair befoir þame spak,
And for quhat caus, haid tane his leve but lak,
And quhow Nicoll haid gevin in his lyking
With all power to fecht, or king for king,
And quha with force mycht vther winand haue,
He suld be lord of land and all þe laue.

The ost begane to move, þe baneris rais;
Into þe ost sic ioy and blythnes was
Quhan trumpettis and menstrallis began to blaw,
And quhan Alexander his ost all semblit saw,
Thay war numberit [thre hundreth] thousand habill,
Off worthie men and fec[h]teris defencibill.
To þe Greikis þe vangaird grantit hee,
Of quhilkis vangard he ordant chiftanis thre:
The first battall gouernit Emenedus,
The tother Perdicas, þe thrid Crassus;
In euirie wing he ordant chiftanis tua—
Gif ony case hapnit till ane of tha,
The tothir suld be reddie to supplie,
Sa for the dede of ane, na falt suld be;
And in þa wingis ordand men of price,
The folk of Sclauony and Dalarise—
Of Dalerise his awin surname he bare,
And Sclauonie war traist men till him þair;
Antigonus eik and Leonides,
Antyochus, with þe erle Arestes,
Thir war þe chiftanis of þe wingis tua,
And ilk ane was ten thousand men and ma;
And in þe vangard als threttie thousand was,

To gouern þame thre chiftanis haid, na les,
And euerie wing efter þame cumand
Ane battall, quhair þair was [twentie] thousand
Of sturdie men on armit hors to ryde,
Was ordand to hald folk on ather syde,
For to supple þe wingis at a neid,
And gif þe vangard hapnit weill to speid,
Reconfort þame, and sidlingis with þame ga,
That þai war nocht ouirset with power ma,
And gif þame hapnit in feild to win þe flour,
Lat þame allane with þair conquest honour;
To gouern þai tua battallis ordand was
Dawclet, Cawlon, Philota, and Darides.
And syne into þe reirgard ordand he
To put þe worthie men of Armenie,
With lordis of age, and worthie men and wise,
That of befoir haid winning los and pryse;
In þat reirgard he ordand battellis thre,
And threttie thousand in ilk ane suld be—
That ordand he for pillar at his bak,
Quhan men war sarit, þair confort þair suld tak.
And principallie þairof was Tholome,
With him Festimus, Dautus, and Crisse,
With þame Licanore, Crebrus, and Clissoun,
With nobill Arides and ȝoung Samsone;
Swa euirie chiftane at his gouerning
Ten thousand men suld haue at his leding.
Into midward ordanit was þe king,
Ane hundreth thousand in his gouerning,
Sum pairt of Grece, bot mest of Macedone,
For maist of his traisting was þam vpoun.
The douzepeiris helilie with him was,
And all þe ȝoung princis, bayth mair and les,
That þai mycht on athir sydis se
Quha was maist habill, and worthie till haue gre;
Dartage was ane worthie antrus knycht,
And euir was prouit hardie, wys, and wycht—
The king him gaif his baner for to beir,
For he haid euir bene wise and war in wair.

All thus þe ost past furth in gude aray,

And to þair goddis orationis þai pray,
To grant gud fortune to þair company,
And to send þame þe flour of victorie.
And quhan þai haid movit a litill iornay,
Sa enterit þai in ane mychtie cuntrey,
And in ane vale rycht be ane reuer syde,
Thair for to lig þai gart þe oist abyde,
And send þair furiouris on ather parte,
And þair discouerouris in euerilk arte,
And plantit doun þair tentis and palȝonis,
Syne plantis standartis, pansallis, and penonis,
And ordand wache and warde and gouernance
Efter þair reulis and þair ordinance;
Syne ordand gydaris and keiparis on þe way,
That merchandice mycht cum to þame nycht and day.
The riuer quhair þai lay was callit Baser,
And þair besyde, ane gret citie war nere;
Thay gart cry, vnder lyf and foirfatour,
“Tha[t] nane suld greif mercheand nor laberour,
Na man of kirk, na barne, na woman-kynd,
Na ȝit no man bot þai wapnis with þame find,
In pane of dede þat nane suld bett nor boist
Na strubill man repairand to þe ost,
Bot gif þai bare wapnis or armour,
Letteris, or poisoun to do ws displesure.”
Syne send þai furth þair spyis preuelie,
Quhaire King Nicolas in osting couth ly,
To speir the nummer of þair cheueleris,
Thair gouernance, and quhow lugit þai weris,
And quhow þair osting with day-waching þei keip,
And quhidder in nycht þai wache, warde, or sleip,
And quhat of Alexander þai speik and say;
The spyis com till him baith nycht and day.
Quhan he hard tell þat Alexander was neir,
He mouit him nocht, nor maid him nocht to steir,
Bot lewch and playit, with mekill hid hething,
Sayand, “He cummis þe trewage ws to bring;
He sall be met with mekill reuerence—
We sall do wirschip till his excellence!
Him war weill better play him ȝit in Grece

Na of his fatheris men tyne ane fleis;
Gud war to him he war in Macedone,
Playand with sparhalk, falcon, and marlȝeoun;
Ȝoung wantoun men wenis it is bot play
Quhill þai haue prefit, and anis bene at þe say;
With Goddis grace, all mak þai neuer sa moy,
We sall þame hame agane in Grece conuoy.”
Quhan Alexander haid hard þair small hething,
He hard þame, and made litill answering,
Sayand, “It may weill happin as þai say,
Nocht as þai wene, bot all ane vther way.”

The nycht ourpassit, þe morning woxe cleir,
The bemes blew, þe ost begouth to steir;
Thair mycht men se mony ane proud blasone,
In cott of armes, in baner and pennone;
The armit knychtis, with helmis and basnet,
Thair creistis and þair timbralis vp þai set,
With trapit hors, and bellis in þair talis,
With ostrage fetheris, buschus, and with salis;
Chariottis avant, and pawilionis plukit doun,
Befoir was lyk ane citie or ane toun.
The trumpis blew, the ost maid a reird,
Lyk till ane thounder, or erding quhan it steird;
The princis and þe douzepeirs drew þame n[ei]r,
Towart þe king, quhan þai þe ost saw steir,
The chiftanis ilkane to þair battell went—
Thay thocht to mak no resedence nor stent
Quhill þai com to þe ost of King Nicolas,
Quhilk neir by half ane io[r]nay fra þame was.
And as þai past endlangis be ane valee,
Towart þe king com prikand Tholome,
Sayand, “Fair schir, be blyth, and mak gud cheir—
Ȝour small freindis ar at ȝow cummand neir;
Aray ȝour battell, gar ilkane keip his warde,
And sembill ȝour douzepeiris in ȝour middillwarde;
Gar set ȝour fut-men in ȝour first battall—
Thare sall þame let with hors-men to assale:
Ȝour men of schot so magill sall þair hors
That magre þame, bakwart þai sall on force;
Syne armit cartis, crauppaldis, and culverinis,

Ȝour serpentinis, small gunnis, and ingynis,
Sum efterwart sidlingis at þair bak salbe,
With armit hors ane certane quantitie,
Thame to reskew, and follow on þe chase,
And þus may stonis þame sa weill, percase,
That ȝour vangard may gif þame eneuch ado,
With ȝour wingis for to be helpand to,
With help of futmen and artalȝerie.
Thus may ȝour hinder battall idill be,
And better is þai brek nocht þair aray—
Thay ar anewe to fecht as for ane day,
And gif it hapnis þat þai bakit be,
The laif is ay reddy þame to supplie.”
The king was weill appayit of his saw,
And euirie man bad till his battall draw;
Than mycht men se quhow þat þir cowartis quakis,
And hardie hartis blythlie to battell makis.
The king bad, “Vant my baner in þe feild!”
He tuke his speir, and cuplit on his scheild;
It was gret ioy till ony gudlie harte
To se quhow Busefall steirit þair his pairt.
The king was ordand in þe middill warde to be,
Bot euir þe formost in þe feild was he,
Quhyle in, quhyle oute, as him list heir and þair,
To se þat all thing dewlie gouernit ware.

Off þe incuming of King Nicolas

With þat þai saw þe pulder, and hard þe din,
Quhow King Nicolas ost was cuming in—
Thay saw þair standartis and þair gonfanonz,
Thair baneris, pinsallis, and þair proud pinonz,
With timbris and wessillis of go[l]d and perry,
On helmis and basnetis sa mychtelie,
And be þe leist cot-armes of euirie knycht
With precius stanis was sa proudlie picht,
And syne þair hors sa richelie trappit war
With orphevris, marcus, and mynevar,
Or cleth of gold, or siluer, or sandale;
Baith hors and man was þis ourcouerit haill,
That for to compt þe riches þat thair was,

Thair mycht no man, bot he þat knew þe case:
For þe chapletis þat on þair helmis war,
Passit milȝeonis of gold and stanis fare,
With þat þe cheriottis with þair ryche aray,
With þair houshald veschell and iowellis gay,
And cunȝeit gold and tresour þat þai haid,
Off men ane millioun riche mycht haue maid.
Emenedus, quhilk in þe vangard was,
Beheld þe incom off King Nicolas:
As him thocht, þai war ane gret menȝe,
Bot þai war cum out of þe gret citie
Of Cesare, quhare þe kingis duelling was,
And oft quhan men cummis ischeand of ane place,
Thay may nocht sone be put in ordinance,
Bot sum sall want sum point of gouernance;
Bot þai com out with sic ane fere and pride,
Thay traistit þat þame þair durst no man abyde,
Thinkand for till oureryde þe first battall,
And of þe laif to tak baith will and wale.
Bot fra þai enterit neir þam in þair sycht,
The men of schot haid send þame sic ane flycht
Thair mycht nothir silk nor sandall hald agane,
That mony a coursour suddanlie was slane,
And sume war woundit alsa fellony,
That gart þame stop, and ramp, and draw þame by.
With þat ane vther flycht þai leit out staill,
Thikkar þan euir drop of rane or haill,
Quhilk farrar in vpoun þair vangarde spred,
The quhilk vangard ane Duke Betin led,
That or þe vangard with þe tother mycht meit,
Mony proud man was trampit vnder feit,
And be þai haid þe thrid flycht lattin ga,
Thair was ane thousand trapit hors and ma
Woundit, and left þair maistaris on þair fute.
With þat þe culuerinnis begouth to schute,
With crapaldis, serpentinis, and ribaudykinis,
With cheriottis, armit cartis, and vnder lynis,
Maid þame sic lett þat on na wyse þai mycht
Strike on þe vangard, for subtiltie nor slycht,
Quhill þair battallis with schot sa maglit ware,

And with hurt horsis rawillit, þai my na mare.

Emenedus was worthie man and wise,
And saw þair vangard haue a gret supprise,
And þat his vangard nothing warrit was,
He leit þame fecht, and haistit him þe les.
The Duk Betin was man of mekill pride,
Saw quhow it stud, and drew him to ane syde,
And thocht till anter him in þair first battalȝe,
To schaw his proves anis, vailȝe que vailȝe,
Saw Alexander cumand to visie þe feild,
Strikit his steid and hit him in mid þe scheild,
Quhill þat þe spere in schounder all to-brast;
Bot Alexander his speir in reste has cast,
That on þe thropill he hit him sic a straik,
Quhill of his helm þe sidling cowart brak:
His hede fell on þe leindis of his hors,
And sidlingis on his sadill hang his cors,
That men mycht se his hals on a syde bare—
Bot his ventall þat cowerit it, and na mare.
Than Alexander, þat brokin had his spere,
Drew out his brand and drest him in his geir,
And on þe hals he hit him sic a rout
That his ventale mycht na thing hald it out,
That of he straik his heid into þe feild,
And with þat ane gret cantale of his scheild
He haid doung doun; with þat haid Busefall
With hornis and tuskis sa woundit his destrall
That fra þine furth was no worth to ryde,
Bot þair lay doun his maister him besyde.
Be þat þe secund battall ionit was,
Quhilk sidlingis be þe cartis tuke þair place,
Quhilk Perdicas haid into gouerning;
And euir mare with þe formost was þe king,
And in þe gret battall ȝit traistit thay
That euir þe king haid bene with þame alway,
For thair was euir in midwart of þe stour
Thre couerit coursouris in his cott-armour:
Becaus þe hors was couerit with arming,
Thay mycht nocht cleirlie knaw quhilk was þe king,
For he wald bere no croun imperiall

Quhill he haid win it first in plane battall.
The thrid battall of Alexanderis vangard,
Quhilk worthie C[r]assus of Grece haid in garde,
Sidlingis þe cartis on þe tother syde;
The fourt com of—þair fais þus þai abyde
In þe mid battall of þe Grekis vangarde,
Quhilk Emenedus keipit and his garde;
Emenedus left þame a gouernour,
And he drew neir þe king into þe stour.
Than war all þai þat maid þe brag and bost,
With all þe flour of King Nicolas host,
War semblit on þe vangaird of þe Grewis;
Thare men mycht se quhare hawbrekis changit hewis,
Sidling þe hors þe blud ran stramand doun,
And scheildis quhyte changit in vermilioun;
The reik of hors and menis hait and swete,
The pulder and dust that draif vp in þe gete,
The hors neying, with mekill din and cry,
Knychtis in ded-thraw granand greuouslie,
Bodyis but hedis, thik lyand in þe feild,
Sum fra þe body doun to hanch out keild;
Trumpis and taburnis and menstrallis maid sic soundis
Of quhilkis þe reird vp to þe hevin redoundis.
The king bad all men keip þair ordinance,
Vnder pane of dede nane changit gouernance
Na move þair battallis quhill þai haid bidding,
Othir be sum of þe douzepeiris or þe king,
Bot lat þe vangard wirk a quhile to se
Quhow it wald fall to Nicolas menȝe.
The Greikis hes previt þe hardiest of þe stour—
It war ressoun þai baid with þe honour,
For þe proves of armes and chauelrie
Remanit ay with þe Greikis commonlie.
And as þai lukit sidlingis by þe toun,
Endlang ane vale callit is Montbioun,
Thair saw þai cumand mony a proud pinone,
With standart, baneris, and with gonphione:
The King of Meid com with a new battall
Of worthie Medanis, þe Gregionis to assale,

Quhilk to þame haid ald fede of tyme bygane,
For in þe tyme þe toun of Troy was tane,
Thay war with Hector and with King Pryame,
The quhilk þe Grekis chaste þame onfreindlie hame,
And gart þame leaf a parte of þir menȝe,
Off quhilk þame thocht þair vengit for to be;
Vpoun þe samyne syde, on þair rycht hand,
Thair battall was in ordinance cumand.
The king gart dres ane wing on his rycht syde,
Quhilk nixt þame was, of worthie men of pryde,
In quhilk þair was neir fyftie thousand men,
Quhilk comptit nocht þair multitud ane hen.
The king wald be ay quhair þat þe parrell was,
For quhair he was, he hardiit all þe place;
The douzepeiris drew ay to þe king alsua,
And leiftennentis into þair sted þai ma.
Sa com þe king fast prikand in a ling,
Quhare Antegon was chiftane of þat wing,
With Dawcline, Caulyne, and Leonides—
Off þe rycht wing þir four chiftanis wes:
Antigonus haid maist of gouernance,
For all þe leaf was at his ordinance,
For it is speidfull into sic melle
That ane chiftane suld euir obeyit be,
For mony maisteris makis ane battell sweye,
Quhan þat nocht ane will till ane vther obey.
The King of Mede thocht þis battall to bring,
Ionand him fast to Nicolas þe king,
Bot Antigone, þat worthie was and wyse,
Thocht he suld braik sum pairt of his devyse,
Gart his futmen ga mak þe first assailȝe,
To brak þe tenour of his first battalȝe.
Than Nicolas, quhilk saw þame at þe sey,
To confort þame brak of his array,
And Arestes, with him Antiochus,
Vpoun þe tother wing saw Nicole þus
Brak his aray and leaf his vangarde nakit—
For egernes þai trimlit and þai quakit;
With þame was baith Philot and Darides,
Quhilk of þe ferrer wing þe chiftanis was,

Quhair þai war fortie thousand weill or mare;
Behind þair vangard, quhair þe feild was bare,
They brak vpoun þame sidling with ane force,
With sturdie men, and all on hardie hors;
Thay steirit þair tyme and occupiit þair place,
And held þe roum quhair air was Nicolas.
Than Nicolas beheld and weill persauit
That throw his awin desait he was dissauit:
His curage fell, he wariit gre[t] Mahune,
He saw his men on all syde dungin doun.
The King of Mede was hardie man and stout,
And of his men was formast in þe rout;
Than Alexander him persauit weill,
Be his armour, his trapour, and his pareill—
He set his spere and strenȝeit fast his hors,
And strak him quyte throw scheild, hawbrek, and cors,
And braik his spei[r] ane ell befoir þe hand,
And left þe trunschioun in his bodie stikand.
With þat com þair ane prince callit Haniball,
Strakit his spere and spurrit his steid at all,
And saw þe king þat nocht ane spere haid he;
And neir besyde was fechtand Tholome,
And dressit him in his way for to byde—
Beneth þe scheild he hit him on þe syde,
Quhill throw þe corpis þe spere ane ell past,
That in his dayis he neuir was half sa gast.
Emenedus, þat lord was of gret proves,
He saw þe king sa sted into þe pres:
In middis þe stour he strekis his burdoun,
And set him till ane duk callit Amidoun,
The quhilk ane egill in his blasone bare,
A lioun als into þe tother quartare,
And he him saw and persauit him weill,
And drew togither with tua swordis of steill—
The speris all befor haid brokin bene,
And all trunschionis sawin on þe grene.
Bot for to se sic straikis þair þai delt,
On helm and hawbrek, ilk a pelt for pelt—
Bot at þe last it fell throw Goddis grace,
Emenedus him slew into þe place.

Be he haid done, com prikand our Dawclayne,
Quhilk till Emenedus was neir cosyne,
And baith of Grece, and mekill of ane make,
And of ane age; his speire in reste couth take,
And sat vpoun ane nobill hors of pryce,
Leit draw at ane callit Parrot de Galis,
And to þe ground baith hors and man he struke,
Syne with ane sword ouirthort þe nec him tuke,
That throch he claif baith acton and camell,
That of his hals þair held nocht worth a maill.
With þat com in þe pres Antygonus,
And sa[w] þe douzeperis dintis deland þus;
He faikis hi[s] speir, and beheld to þe best
That he couth se, and eik þe worthiest.
Sa saw he cumand with ane trapour broun
Ane sturdie knycht, þe Comte Valerion,
Ane hardie man, ane lord of gret valour,
Quhilk mony a man haid strikin doun in stour;
His helm was teit ouir mekill to þe syde
Till haue mair sicht; þe oppin weill he spyde—
It is vantage, war nocht þe perrell gret—
Antigonus leit draw till him in þat het,
In at þe sicht þe speris point he bare,
Quyte throw betuix þe hattrall and þe hare,
Bare him abak, he fell his hors feit vnder;
Antigonus his spere brak all in sounder.
With þat com nere þe prince Samsone Dalis,
Quhilk fane wald haue ane honour and a prise,
Quhilk Alexander tuke tent ay him till—
He was sa ȝoung he doutit for his ill.
Sa saw he stoutlie fechtand in a place
Ane worthie lord was namit Habilas,
And was ane prince of þat samyne cuntre
Of quhilk Samsone of resoun king suld be;
He knew him be his scheild and his trapour,
And dreaf at him in midis of þe stour,
Hit him betuix þe helm and þe camaill,
And baire him throw þe hals and þe ventaill;
The spere flenderit, ȝoung Samsone haid na force
Into þe tyme to turn and wryst his hors,

Bot strak baith hors and man vnto þe ground,
Bot as God wald, Samsone was haill and sound.
Than Alexander said to Samsone of Dalis,
“Thow servis thank—þow art rycht gude pre[n]tis”;
Bot he was put sa far into þe thrang,
And him allane his fais mellit amang,
And on him betand was Cayphas de Surrie,
Bot Samsone straik fra him sa sturdelie—
He hit ane callit Flury du Sameon,
Quhill to þe erd þe stream of blude ran doun.
With þat com of douzeperis four or fyve,
And him reskewit and brocht away belyve,
And in þe ganecum Caulus met Cayphas,
Quhilk was ane cheif cheiftane of Nicolas,
And with ane spere he gaue him sic ane stound
That hors and man ȝede bakwart to þe ground:
Samson his scheild haid clovin of befoire,
And Caulus hit him in þe samyne bore.
Thus throw þe body he lay stikit thaire,
At quhilk Nicolas his hart was grevit sair,
And with his honour wald haue bene away,
For on athir syde vmbelappit war thay
With baith þe wingis, and þe gret battall
Was cumand to and strykand on þame haill;
Bot þai war mony sturdie men and stout,
And held þame sarre togidder in ane rout,
On armit hors, and in sic multitude,
Lyk till ane crag þai all togidder stud.
With þat com in ane callit Helias,
Ane best of Grece, neir cousing till Æneas,
And he straik ane Guido de Cesare,
Vnder þe scheild on syde quhare he was bare,
With ane custeilȝe maid him a slop so wide
That all his bowellis hang furth at his syde.
Leonides was at ane vther parte waitand,
Saw Lothomine, chiftane of prid, standand,
The quhilk was callit ane prince of Babilone,
And haid his curage fermelie set him on;
His fallowis all haid prouit valeance—

He thocht to do, or to haue sum vengeance.
And Lothomine haid him persauit weill,
And haid no wappin bot ane sworde of steill,
And Leomyne his spere haid in þe reste;
He spurit his hors, and evin till him he dreste:
He hit him in þe ersoun cled with steill—
He brak his spere, and derd him neuer a deill,
Bot syne with swordis þai laid on sa gud lede
That nane mycht wit quhilk of þame better haid,
Bot Leomyne sic a straik till him gaue,
The ouer cantall of his scheild he claue,
And als þe te þat ouir his hals was cast,
Quhare-with þe scheild was couplit till him, brast,
And with þe straik fell doun befoir him þair.
Than was þe knycht with breist onhelit bare—
Than Leomyne þe sword in hand he schuke,
And sic ane straik vpoun þe schoulder him tuke
That neir ane span braid cleave doun on his swyre,
Throw hawbrek, hactone, and throw bane and lyre;
Sa wyd ane wound to Lothomyne maid he
Tha[t] men mycht baith his lever and loungis se.

And traistis weill þat, all supois þat we
Tell of sic worthie deidis speciallie,
Mony a worthie man in þat fechting
Did worthie deidis quhareof I spek nothing—
It ware ouir mekill cummer to declair
All haill þe douchtie deidis þat done was þair;
And als traistis weill þat on þe tothir pairt,
That mony worthie knycht did his pairt;
Als þair was thair mony of Armenie,
Off Surrie, Egip, and of Arabie,
As Lancelat, gret Godfray, and Noyles,
That in þe feild ded fundin efter was.
Quhan Nicolas persauit his princis dede,
He studiit and was stonist in þe stede,
And he mycht nocht eschap withoutin lak—
His gret battall was drevin sa far abak
That all þe leaf haid brokin þair aray,
And to þe citie fleand was away,
And slane was als sa mony of chiftanis,

That schupe þame to þe citie fle at anis,
And for till hald þe ost in barganing,
Quhill chapit war þair battall and þare king.
Than war þe princis of Grece and Macedone
Sa fast vpoun þair battall followand on,
That mony lordis war slane into þat prese,
Ane Philot and ane callit Lucrides,
And als ane prince Ferrand de Sardangȝe;
Than Habilaȝe cryit loud þair handsenȝe,
And bad þe king draw him to þe citie,
Sen he saw weill þat no remed mycht be.
Sa com a knycht of Grece, callit Flury,
Quhilk in þe stour was fechtand mychtelie,
And mony haid baith slane and strukin doun,
And till him maide King Nicolas him boun;
And rycht evin as he sidlingis by him went,
King Nicolas with all pith and talent
Hit him ane straik in middis of þe scheild,
That hors and man fell baith doun in þe feild;
Throw scheild and hawbrek þe spere-hede in him levit—
Sa in þat place þe lyf fra him he revit.
Than Tholome, þat weill persauit þat thing,
His hart was sare, and thocht to tak venging,
And to King Nicolas with force he draue,
That sic ane dint vpoun his helm he gaue,
The helm he claif, drew blude on his croun,
And gart him ly a-grufe on his arsoun,
Sua dosnit þat he wist nocht quhare he was;
His men him tuk and led out of þe pres
Be the renȝe, his hed hingand on wry—
Than to þe citie drew þai all in hy.
Thus Habilȝe, quhilk saw his maister sua
Woundit and hurt, and to þe citie ga,
He thocht till haue ane sicht of Tholome,
And thocht he haid lever be dede na fle,
And straik at him with all his pith and mycht;
Than Tholome, quhilk was ane worthie knycht,
Recointerit him sa stoutlie in þat sted,
And left him neuer quhill he him put to dede,

And wan his hors, and brocht with him away.
Be þat on Tholome thaire festinnit þai,
Sa wounder mony invironit him about,
And on his scheild þai laid sa mony rout—
On ather syd þai war twentie and ma;
And he agane þame him defendand sua
That quhom he hit he deit of his dint,
That sevin of þame he woundit or he stint.
Than þe douzepeiris persauit þat Tholomer
Into þe chase was put in sic ane were,
And drew to him with all þair strenth and mane,
Bot or þai com, his destrer þai haid slane,
Bot he on fut defendit him douchtelie;
Bot þair mycht men se pryse of chauelre,
And with þe first strekit was Dawclyne,
Quhilk was to Tholome rycht neir cousing,
Quhilk with ane sworde sic straikis gaue vntald,
Thaire was nother helm nor hawbrek mycht outhauld.
Emenedus com neirest efterwart,
For Tholome so dredeand was his harte;
Quhome he ouertuk, euer to erd ȝeid thay,
Quhill Tholome was fre fra þame away;
With þame com inwart worthie Perdicas,
That of befoir was followand on þe chase—
Sa weill him bare, it was gret ioy to se.
Thus made þai sone staling of þat menȝe,
And Tholomee reskewit haill and feire;
Dawcline his cousing led him ane fare destrere,
Was Habilaȝe, quhilk slane [had] Tholomee,
Followand vpoun þe chase to þe citie;
Arestes, Arides, and Liquanore
Haid done þair dett so worthe before,
And mony ane haid woundit in þe chase,
Off þame þat led away King Nicolas.

With þis þe king na blyther man mycht be,
Quhan þat he saw reskewit was Tholomee,
Gart cry þat all man followit him alhaill,
Baith vangard, reirgard, and þe gret battall,
Bot þat þai suld nocht brak of þair aray,
Bot hald þair ordour as befoir did thay,

Nother þe reirgard nor þe gret battall,
Leve þame þe honour þat maid þe first assale,
That was þe vangard and þe wingis and flycht,
With help of þe king and mony a nobill knycht.
Thus on þe chase þai followit to þe toun,
Quhare mony ane douchtie man was dung doun,
The Prince of Tharent in þe felde left dede—
Quha haid him slane, þai mycht nocht byde to pled,
For on þe chase þai followit wounder fast;
The fleand men þair armour fra þame kest,
With collaris, scharpis, gold chanȝeis of Sairdangȝe,
Trapouris, chaplettis, with beltis of Bahenȝe,
Baggis and bulgetis full of gold and geire,
Quhilk to vptak men maid bot litill fere—
Off sic thing þai leit no mare nor of flouris:
Thay thocht eneuch to say, “Þe feild is ouris!”
Thus maid þe Greikis þis disconfitour,
And Alexander þame ȝeildit þe honour.
Thus Nicolas was in þe toun retretit,
And Alexander and his men resetit—
Quhat prisoneris, quhat iowallis, quhat riches,
Thaire was no man in erd þat mycht it ges.
And syne þe toun þai segit all about,
And bad þe toun to send him Nicolas out,
For he suld neuir fra Cesare citie gane,
Quhill þai war at his will other ded or tane.
Syne is þe king and þe douzeperis gane
To lowe God in ane tempill of Diane,
And syne gart stent baith palȝeonis and tentis,
And with gret ioy þe lordis to daner wentis.
Syne efterwart bad Clissoun and Tholomee
Dele all þe ryches till all þe haill menȝe
As it efferd, þane nane haid mair na vther,
Be þair estetis ilkane was wther brother;
Suppois þe vangard all þe ryches haue,
The king bad it be delt amang þe laue,
“For thocht þe reirgard no man sla nor [k]ele,
Quha dois bidding in battall, fechtis wele,
And haldis fut and followis on oure fais—
All fechtis nocht þat to battall gais;

And all þe landis, riches, and tressour
I will be ȝouris, I will bot þe honour.”

Quhow Alexander and King Nicolas faucht hand for hand

King Nicolas hes his lordis semblit hale,
Thame for to ask þair verdit and counsall:
“Lordingis, ȝe se quhow þis was cum and gane—
It mendis nocht to mak murning or mane.
Thir Greikis ar cruell men and orgillus,
And þis ȝoung king has na piete of ws;
Forthy me think, to saif þe blude of man,
Nane vther way as now counsall I can,
Bot mycht I get him anis hand for hand,
I durst weill antir bodie, lyf, gude, and land,
And þat nane haid þe scayth onlie bot we,
As mycht fall by fortune, I or he.”
All to þis thing þe counsall cordit sone,
And on þe morn ane messinger, but hune,
Till Alexander þai send with mekill feir,
Sayand, gif he wald mak end of þe were,
And stanche effusioun of saikles menis blude,
It war his will, sa þat him thocht it gude,
To fecht to-gidder þai tuay, cors for cors,
On þair best wise inarmit vpoun hors,
Or tua for tua, as him list, thre for thre;
And quhilk of þame þat maister of vther be,
He salbe lord of all, baith men and land,
Without moire stryf obeyand till his hand;
And [thretty] hostages þairvpoun suld send,
Chosinn of þe best þat in his court war kend,
And prisoneris all suld be deliuerit fre,
Syne throw battall all thing suld endit be.
The message com till Alexander þe king,
The quhilk was nocht ill payit of þat thing;
And quhan he haid þe messing[er] all hard,
The anser till his counsall he referd,
And þairon war þe douzeperis semblit sone,
In þis thing quhat was best to be done.
Thay said it standis maist at his awin curage:

Sen he haid wonning ane battall of vantage,
And thocht dreidles to win þe toun of force,
It war folie to antir cors for cors,
For, and he suld ony misfortune fall,
It war þe tinsall of his pepill all.
Than he that haid þe curage of a lioun
Wist weill þat God haid grantit him fortune,
And thocht he suld throw hevinlie desteny
Conques þis erd, and soueran of it be,
Bad þame reconfort þame and mak gud cheir,
“For it suld neuir be said in no maneir
That he þe battall suld proffer me,
And I sa cowartlie my hart suld bee,
Him to forsaik þat I haue win in feild.
Supois he be of strenth, stature, and elde,
Hiear þan I be thre fute of his cors,
And mare of strenth, of þat I gif na force,
For men seis oft, quha in þair force hes pride,
Oftyme it hapnis þame þe war betyde;
Supois I be ȝit bot of tender age,
I traist in God þat, for þe wrang trewage
Quhilk he wald haue of Grece and Macedone,
His wrang desyre sall fall him-self vpoun.”
This was þe answer grantit in þe kynd;
Thay wryte lettres þe cunand for to bind,
The ostage all war chosin furth and send,
Thay armit þame, and to feild þai wend.
King Nicolas thocht lang for to be þare:
He was sa stark, sa mekill, and sa square,
Him thocht þat he suld haue bot litill ado
And he mycht anis in gripis win him to,
Or till oure-reik his bodie with ane dint,
And to þe feild armit or euir he stint
He prikit furth, ane hunder knychtis in rout,
And forbad ony man to follow him out.
It was gret ioy to se his fair attyre—
His helm of charbunkill schinit as fyre,
His scheild was all plantit with diamantis,
Quhilkis war hardar na flint or adamantis,
His cot-armes was all of topas treist,

And all þe champ of rubeis was infeist,
For sa he bare lyk armes of Arigone,
Palit ȝallow and red, as schawis in his blasone,
For richer armes to king ma na man prise,
Na of precius stanis, quha couth þame weill devise;
And als at his hawbrek and at his chammall
Ane perle of Orient hang at euerie male;
His trapour of his hors and his musell,
Oure-fret with stanis of price, war teire to tell;
Ane vnui[n]sibill stane on him he bare,
Was neuir batall vinquest quhare it ware;
Thair was na thing þat langit his array
Lakar na gold, na till his hors alsuay;
His brand was charmit with inchantment,
That þair was neuir armour þat mycht it stent.

Than Alexand[er], þat louit neuir no pryde,
Saw he was cum in feild him to abyde,
In sic aray þat mervell was to behald,
In his company ane hunder knychtis bald;
Bot he þat was euir kinglyk in his geir,
As it efferde, but prid, with litill feir,
The king bad feche him Busefall his steid,
And armit him as him thocht best to speid,
And said, “Suppois ȝone man ane gyant be,
Ȝit God may grant me grace to win þe gre,
For all ȝone iolie geire and ryche aray:
To traist in God is mekill better ay.”
He callit Aristotill, and with him spak,
And at þe douzeperis all his leve he tak,
And to þe feild, bot he and Busefall,
And in þe presence of þe gret battall
Thay straik to-gidder baith, with sic a force
That baith þair speiris sounderit doun in dros;
Bot Alexander haid persit him þe scheild—
His hawbrek also was to him no beild,
For persit also was his gesserant:
The sperehed past in sidlingis by a sclent,
And drew na blude, and stonist him rycht mekill.
With þat King Nicolas drew abak a littill,
And drew þe brand of his inchantment,

And schupe till him with all his haill intent,
Hit him on þe ouir cantell of þe scheild,
Quhill ane quarter flaw out into þe feild,
And on þe hals of his helm a kerf he made,
And parit of his hawbrek a hand-bred;
Bot Alexander feld weill he was nocht hurt,
Bot þat his scheild was taistit, all to-turt,
For þe intentioun was of Nicolas,
And he haid hit him quhair his willis was,
He thocht till haue made ane end of all þe pley,
For quhare it hit, it bare all quyte away.

Quhan Alexander recouerit of þe straik,
He thocht rycht weill he suld ȝeild him þe maik,
And saw his schulderis was all scheildles bare,
And thocht þat he mycht maist haid grevit him þair,
And doutit him ane vther straik to get.
With all his mane and all his mude him set
Till ettill him ane vther, straik so weill
That of his strenth he suld þe power feill,
And with his brand with all his maine and mycht
Gaue him ane straik sidlingis, endlangis þe sycht,
That in tua halfis quiklie þe helm he claif:
Sum said þe goddis blissit haid his glaif,
That he suld neuir in feild disconfit be—
Sic was his fortume and his destany.
Than fell his helm in tua pairtis adoun:
The tane befoir him fell one his arsoun;
The tane half held þe tee þat fell bakwart,
The vther held þe tee þat fell forwarde,
That beter it war it strukin fra him haid bene,
Quentlie but mair, and fallin on þe grene;
His knychtis saw, and said he was forlorn:
“Allace”, þai said, “þe tyme þat we wes born!
Now se we weill þair is no dome bot dede—
This realm is tint, and we ar left in fede;
He may forthink þat euir he send message
To ask of Grece and Macedone trewage.”
Than Busefall, þat was cruell and kene,
Wald lyvis fane ay on his hors haid bene,
Bot Alexander wald nocht thole him to ga,

For he wist weill his hors was armit sa
He suld haue haid mare greve þan vantaging,
And als sen he haid oblist king for king,
Corps for corps, and onlie man for man,
Him thocht his cunand war nocht keipit þan.

Quhan Nicolas saw þat his hede was bair,
He wald haue fled, war nocht his ostare þair;
Than till him self he said in þis maner:
“Better is de king na leve ane presoner—
May nane repreif me quhan I de ane king,
Bot gret lak is to leve ane vnderling.”
And in this [breth and] ramage, with his glave
Sic ane straik till Alexander he gaue
Vpoun þe tother cantell of þe scheild,
The baudrik brak, and it flew in þe feild,
And als his brand into þe middilwart brast;
Quhan he saw þat, than was he neuir sa gast.
Than was King Alexander rycht sair agrevit
That he his armour haid sa sair apprevit,
Baith helm and schelde, and als his hawbrek,
And with his dintis gart his banis werk;
His curage rais, and changit all his hew,
And thocht he wald him pay fane of his trew,
And till him schupe ane straik rycht sturdelie;
Vpoun þe hede he hit him sickerlie,
Quhill doun toward þe rycht pape he him schare,
And of his scheild claif half ane fute and mare;
With þat stark dede he fell doun at his fute—
Thus Alexander him payit his tribute.
Thay tuk þe trapouris and armouris of his hors;
The king bad þame do honouris to his cors,
And syne he past vnto his pavillioun.
Bot lord! quhat los, quhat honour, quhat renoun,
Was spokin of him and of his company,
That all þe cuntre quakit helelie.
The douzepeiris com, and brocht in his ostage,
Said, “Lord, quhat salbe done with þis barnage?”
The king said, “Lordis, ȝe se quhow þis is gane—
It is na bute for dede to mak na mane.
Ȝe ken ȝour cunandis—keip ȝour iuramentis;

Ȝe wat þat all is myne, lordschip and rentis,
And ȝe wat quhow ȝe ar oblist to me,
Me to deliuer Cesare þe citie,
With all þe gudis, tressour, and riches,
And all thing þat pertenit King Nicolas,
And ȝe to me men ar syne alhaill,
The kinrik and þe sege imperiall;
Mak ȝe in þis ony deficultie,
Or I ett mette ȝe sall all hingit be
On hie gallows, sidlingis about þe toun.”
With þat he bad þat all men suld be boun
To ferme þe sege about þe citie sone;
Than all þe lordis on kneis þai haue þame done,
Sayand, “Fair lord, we ar all at þi will—
The citie furth-with deliuerit sall be þe till;
Als, we ar heir, and all þe haill barnage,
Quhan euir ȝe list sall mak þe full homage;
The princis of þis land ar all content
For to remane vnder þi gouernment.”
The toun was opnit, all enterit þat wald;
With þat þe king for Tholomee furth cald,
Bad him pas and tak sasing of þe place,
And dele amang þe men all þe ryches,
“And for þi wirschip, and þi gret valour
I saw þe do þis hinder day in stour,
This lordschip and þis kinrik I þe geve,
To hald of me my man quhill þat I leve,
And efter þis, quhan crounit I sall be,
Efter my crouning sone I sall croun þe—
With grace of God, I think throw conquessing
To mak my douzeperis euirie man ane king.”

Off þe making of Tolomee king

Thus all thing as þe king haid said was done,
And all þe princis semblit till him sone,
And all þe lordis and knychtis of þat cuntre
War boundin haill at his command to be,
And to þe king maid fewtie and homage,
First þe princis, and syne þe haill barnage.
The king gret giftis to þe lordis gifis,

With loue and freindscheip euir quhill he levis;
The princis saw þe fredome of þe king,
That he delt all, and held him-self nathing
Bot onlie manrent and soueranitie,
Quhilk was ane takin of mekill dignitie.
Syne tuke þe king ane branche of olyve grene,
Full of berreis, þat plukit new haid bene,
And þair he callit in presence Tolomee,
And till him said, “Þis lordschip I gif þe—
For þi wirschip þis sall be þi rewarde;
It is my will þow heir be king and laird”
(With þat þe olyve branche in hand him gaue),
“And homage of þe heir I sall resaue
At oure ganecom, quhan crownit þow sall be—
I will nocht þow be crownit forow me.”
And of þe citie þair he gaue him sasing,
And bad þe pepill obey him as þair king,
Quhilkis with gude will made him obedience,
To leve and de with him at his defence.
And quhan þe princis saw þe gret larges,
The mekill wirschip and þe worthines
Of him quha gaue hale realmis to his lordis,
The hie nobillnes þat men of him recordis,
With heyndnes and with fredome of his met,
Gart him with all men sic ane fawour get
That all desyrit þat he suld regne and rax,
For quha-euir till his men gud causis makis,
And gifis þame riches, with worschip and honour,
No wounder thocht he be a conquerour.
Thus his renoun, fredome, and largeis,
And to loue men for virtue and nobilnes,
Syne honour þame for manfull excellence,
Gart all þis warld mak him obedience—
Quhaire men findis love, with riches and honour,
Than will þai leve and de for his valour.
Quhairfoir þis buk schawis nocht allanerlie
The worthie deidis of men þat war worthie,
Bot schawis þe wayis of virtue and valieance,
Rycht reull and ordour of kingis gouernance,
And quhow ane prince suld to his pepill him beire,

Baith in to tyme of peace and in tyme of were,
And till gif exempill to þir lordingis ȝing,
Quhow þai suld serwe and bear þame to þair king,
And þat ane realm but reull may nocht stand,
And falt of law and iustice tynis þe land,
And quhow þat loue men makis lordis riche,
And haitrent makis gret gouernance to fiche:
For wrangus tribute takin of þe pure,
And idilnes menteinit fra laboure,
And gredie couatise of wrang conquest,
Quhair-euir þat be, þe lordschip may nocht lest;
For all þis warld of law and labour levis,
And labour leving to all lordis gevis,
For labour to þe lordis leving aw,
And lordis to labour doctour ar of law;
Than, gif þai keip na law to laborage,
The labour aw nocht for to paye þair wage—
Thus, quhan þe princis takis wrang trewage,
And keipis na law to þe laborage,
The commonis hartis fra þe princis drawis,
And louis þe men þat keiparis ar of lawis.
Thus Alexander, quhilk of virtue was,
Of law, of iustice, and of hie nobillnes,
Quhat maistre was to be ane conquerour
Oure þame þat haitit law and laubour.

Quhan Alexander þe king haid on þis wise
The landis of Cesare halelie conquise,
And vtheris of quhilk King Nicolas was syre,
All halelie vnto þe See of Tyre,
[Be] þat ane new message cumin was
Off Macedone, fra Quene Olimpeas,
Sayand þat Ionas, Senescall of Grece,
Haid made mareage with Cleopatra his nece
With Philipis, his father, þe king at hame,
And put fra him Olimpeas his dame,
Sayand þat in all Grece it was renummyne
That Alexander vnlauchfullie was cumin,
And þat King Philipe his father neuir was,
And þat he was þe sonne of Sathanas,
And that he tuke his aith and conscience on,

He was nother are to Grece nore Macedone,
And þat his mother haid drawin hir till a tour
Within ane pallace, abydand his succour,
And at vpoun þe tother morn be none,
Bot he put help, þe bridall wald be done.
The king said to þe message, “Pas on swyth—
Say to my mother þat sche hald hir blyth;
I mak ane wow heir to my goddis all
That I sall at þe feist be in þat hall,
To mak seruice to Cleopateras,
And till hir eame, þe Senescall Ionas,
That better war þai haid nocht cumin þair—
I sall pay þame þair tochir or þai fare;
Bot lat nane wit þat þow at me hes bene,
Bot my mother, Olimpeas þe quene.”
The messinger is past on syne, but cese;
The king hes callit to counsell Philotes,
And till him recointit all of þis case,
Becaus þat he was natyve of þe place,
And tald him quhow þe Senascall Ionas
Haid brocht ane dochter of þe King Goulas,
The King of Pincarn, and thocht to mak mareage
With King Philip in his letter age,
“And to repuls my mother with ane blame,
The quhilk war baith to hir and me defame,
For I wat weill þai blame hir causles,
For of þe thing þai mene, sche is saikles,
For sche traistis it suld þe goddis be
Quhilk had prouidit my natiuitie;
Quha suld me wyte alsua, sen I na ma
Change my birth, na put my weird away?
Quhow euir it be, a kingis sone am I,
Suppois I gottin was onlauchfullie,
And als King Philip, wittand weill my case,
Tuk me for bairn, and me awowit hes,
And said I suld be till him successour,
And efter him be king and imperour,
Sayand he wist it weill be responsall
Of all þe goddis, quhan he gat Busefall;
My mother als is quene of Armenie,

And all hir rycht of it sche gaif to me.
Thus, sen his are he hes me made and tane,
And all his conques, bot Macedone allane,
Than of þe law þair is na dout nor were—
But questioun I am his hereter;
And as langand þe land of Macedone,
He is leifand ȝit, we may accord þairone,
Bot I sall keip him strange aris to ma”,
And with þat word till armes he bad ga.

Thus is þe king dislugit haistelie,
And callit þe douzepeiris, and tald þame halelie
Off all his purpos and his matelent,
To quhilk þai war accord with hale assent.
And at þe brydall, sittand in þe hall,
The Senescall was, and þe lordis all—
The king was dynand in ane vther place,
The ladyis all with Cleopat[e]ras;
The king com in þe pallace but affray,
And to hall is gone but delay.
Thairein was marscheld may þan twentie scoir,
Bot sic ane stewart haid þai nane befor;
He said to Ionas, “Tratour, I þe defy—
Thow hes forfet þi landis halely,
And als þi lyf, to counsall þis þi lorde,
To put betuix him and his spous discorde.”
He drew ane sworde, and one þe hede him gaue—
Quhill þat þe burde agane held, he him claue;
With þat into þe hall þai rais ane schoute—
Thay schup to armes, þair was bot vp and out;
To say schortlie, þair was bot few left haill
Into þat hall þat langit þe Senescall;
Thay drest þe sewaris with þame, but and ben,
Mycht nane gang in þat hall for stikit men.
With þat þe King Philip come fast rinnand,
Enarmit, with ane drawin sworde in hand,
And till Alexander schupe with all his vre,
Bot one ane man suapperit one þe flure,
And to þe erd he passit, tape oure tale;
“Quhat alis ȝow, schir?” þe king sayis, “I mervell.”
King Philip recouerit sone, and vp he rais,

And to King Alexander þe way he tais,
And thocht to strik him—he schupe with ane sworde,
Bot sone agane he tumlit to þe erde;
Than Alexander smirkit ane litill we,
Said to his men, “Se ȝe nocht his folie?”
With þat his men in handis wp him takis—
He mycht nocht stand, he trimlis and he quakis,
He changit hew, þe sworde fra him fell doun,
And in þair armis þe king begoith to swoun.
Than Alexanderis hart was wounder sair,
In armis him tuk and till his chalmer him bare—
He lay ane lang tyme or þat he spak.
Than Cleopat[e]ras hir leve culd tak,
With gret sorow hir aeame Ionas was slane,
And till hir fatheris place sche past agane,
To king Pincerine, to hir father King Goulas,
And till him has sche comptit all þe case;
The cuntre was for Alexander sa drede,
That all þe cuntre till þair castellis flede.

And quhan King Philip ouirecumin was,
He send efter þe Quene Olimpeas,
And askit hir forgevnes and mercie,
Syne Alexander and all his company,
And said throw ill counsall he haid it done,
And in all pairtis he suld amend it sone;
He was dredand, and rycht sua he belevit
That he þe goddis rycht sair haid agrevit,
And maid his testament and his devise,
And prayit þame ga mak sacrafice,
And tuk þe quene and kissit hir tenderlie,
And callit ane preist and mariit hir newlie,
And þair maid Alexander are of all,
But reuocatioun, quhat case þat evir befall:
Thay war all blyth as neuir all haid bene—
Thus Olimpeas was ay haldin as quene.
Than Alexander aressonit him suetlie,
Sayand, “Ȝe sett ȝow vpoun gret folie,
For counsall of a man of lycht curage
Into ȝour eild to braik ȝour mareage—

Ȝe suld exempill gife of hie prudence
Till all þat ar in ȝour obedience,
And be ane mirrour till all sic as me,
To keip þair lawtie and þair dewetie.”
With þat he brocht King Nicolas' crowne,
And on his kne befoir þe king sat doun,
Said, “Father, heir þe croun of victorie
I wan to venge þe of þine inemie,
To keip þi land fra conquest and thirlage,
Or þow behovit till haue payit trewage.”
With þat King Philip leit doun teiris fall,
Sa did þe quene, all, baith grett and small,
And Alexander als mycht nocht hald bot greit;
With þat þe king rais vp vpoun his feit,
And set þe croun on Alexanderis hede,
And þair his benfice with him he levit—
Thay war sa blyth þat i[t] was ioy to se.
The king maid feist with gret solemptie,
Gart set by him his quene, with mekill pryde,
And Alexander on þe tother syde;
Gret giftis to þe douzeperis he gaue,
To lordis and princis, and to all þe leave.

Off King Darus' messinger

As thay war ioyand in þair best maneir,
Sa com þair fra King Dare ane messingeir,
Askand þair trewis, as þai war woinit to do,
At King Philip, for Macedone and Grece also,
Or ellis schape þame for to leave him þe land,
For he wald ceis all haill intill his hand
All þe landis of Grece and Macedone,
And of Daliare, Armenie, and of Sclauone;
And als bad Alexander þat he suld restoir
The landis haill þat he haid tane befoir,
And all þe goddis of King Nicolas,
Baith Cesare þe citie and all vther place
Quhilkis he haid gevin to Tolomee,
Or ellis he suld him hing on gallow tre
As a knaife, ane rever, and ane theife,
The quhilk he thocht to put to sic mischeif

That all his kin suld wounder on his warkis.
And Alexander with sobirnes þame harkis,
And prayit his father nothing him to greife,
And to mak anser he wald gif hime leife;
The king grantit, and he þe message cald,
Sayand, “Message, quhow durst ȝe be sa bald
To cum into my presens quhair I war,
And to call me ane theif and ane rever?”
And furth-with he commandit Tholomee
To haue þame furth and hing þame one tre;
The messingeris sayis, “Lord, þow dois ws wrang—
Ane messinger suld nother be hed nor hang,
For he dois nocht bot his maisteris bidding;
It is nocht we, it is oure lord þe king,
The quhilk we serwe and is oblist him till,
Lellelie to do his biding and his will.”
The king sayis, “Þow sayis suth and it war sua:
War I ane gud man, I suld nocht ȝow sla,
Bot sen he theif and reuer callis me,
I do nocht bot my dett to gar ȝow de”,
Bad tak and led þame swyth out of his sycht;
Thay fell on kneis, said, “Lord, as þow art a knycht,
And als baith crownit king and empriour,
For þine awin saik haue e to þine honour—
It is revilling to þi maiestie
To gar ws simpill messingeris dee;
Sen nane bot oure maister þe falt has maide,
Gif ws our lyvis, for honour of knychthed,
For knychthed suld consent na thing to do
That mycht be comptit lak his honour to,
And quhat þow will on þi behalf we say,
Till our maister we sall þe mak gud fay
We sall it say him, quhat euir befall ws to.”
Than said þe king, “Sen þat ȝe will sa do,
On þat conditioun heir I grant ȝour lyvis—
Ȝe sall say þis quhan ȝe till him arryvis:
As langand þe first point of ȝour trewage,
Quhan King Philip was man of tender age,
He haid nane airis his landis to defend,
And quhan Dare his message to him send,

He haid ane guse þat was baith gude and fair,
The quhilk laid goldin eggis to King Dare;
Bot now, sen God ane are has to him sent,
The guse is ded quhilk þe gret eggis lent.
And say to him langand þe tothir point,
And God will keip me haill and in gude point,
Within schort tyme I think him for to se,
Bot he him hald be strenth of place fra me,
And sall him bring, with help of Goddes grace,
Sic trewage as I brocht King Nicolas.”
The message tuke þare leif, hame to fair—
The king gart gif gret giftis to þame þair,
And or he wald thole þame pas of þe toun,
He gart schaw þame his tentis and palioun,
And gart his douzeperis and his fair armie
Repair into þair sycht, þat þai mycht se,
The quhilk haid in his houshald daly þair
Thre hunder thousand fechtand men and mare,
For he haid semblit all his power hale,
To pas on Dare to gif him battall.

Thus quhan þe messingeris þair leif haid tane,
And onwart to þare cuntre þai war gane,
Sa com message fra Litill Armenee
That rissin was agane him þat cuntre,
That ane of þe gretest lordis in þat land,
With mony baronis till him consentand,
And of his castellis sindrie þai haid tane,
That King Philip neir of his wit is gane,
And send till Alexander to mak him boun,
And thocht to pas him-self in þat regioun.
Than Alexander him consalit to do nocht sua,
And for his saik he sulde þe veyage ta,
And for he was ane litill ill disposit,
Prayit him to hald in his chalmer closit
Quhill he war haill and out of all dangere;
On na wayis to iournayis he suld steir,
Bot mak cheir till his mother, as he
Wald þat he did till him his dewitie.
With þat þe trumpis blew, þe battalis rais,
And Alexander his leif at all men tais,

And on þai pas þe way to Armenee;
Bot na gret soiorning þair makis he,
For all þe doaris of þe deid war fled—
Quhan Alexander com þair þai war sa red,
And of þat cuntre quiclie þei deluge,
And vnto Dare þai pas to get refuge.
He put þe cuntre sone in stablisching,
And send hame worde to Philip þe king,
And vpoun sindrie he gart do þe law—
Off þair anerdaris he gart hing and draw,
And thocht to pas to Pers with all hale traist.
So com rinnand ane messinger in haist,
Sayand þat þair was cumin in Macedone
Ane gret lord quhilk held land of Philipone,
His leige man, was callit Pensomas,
Quhilk of ane cuntre callit Brytagne was,
Sone and are to ane callit Corestes,
The quhilk was cousing to erle Arestes,
Quhilk of befoir rych enamorat haid bene
Off his mother, Olimpeas þe quene,
For quhan he saw þat Alexander was past,
And neuer to cum agane þair, as he traist,
He semblit of his freindis ane gret menȝe,
And furth-with in Macedone past he,
And thocht a sege to þe palace lay.
Bot King Philip, quhilk hardie man was ay,
Assemblit all þat he mycht gathir and get,
And past till him, and in ane feild him met,
And stoutlie faucht with him [in] battell place,
And for the best of all his menȝe was
With Alexander past in Armenee,
The waikar was his ost and his menȝe;
That Philip, þat lord was of gret age,
And as ane lioun haid ane hie curage,
Haid na mistraisting of na fals tresoun
Off his leige men þat war of his regioun:
Thay traistit haill þat Dare suld mak ane end
Of Alexander, and neuir agane him send—
Thus garris þame rys, sic maistrie for to ma.
Than Alexander in hart was neuir sa wa—

He wist King Philip was sumparte seik,
And said, “Pas hame als fast as þow may prik,
And bid him gif na battall quhill I cum”;
Bot it was done and endit, all and sum,
Als fast as Alexander mycht speid his feit—
Ane vther message be þe way he met,
Sayand, “Þis day þai fecht, withottin dreid—
It will be done, bot þow mak better speid.”
Bot Alexander haid left his oist on land,
And tane with him bot onlie ten thousand,
Bot or he com, þe battall end haid tane,
And Pensomas to þe palace gane,
And Philip left woundit in þe feild,
In point of ded lyand vnder scheild,
And all his men war tane, or slane, or fled.
Than Alexander tak vp his father bade,
And laid him soft one ane hors littere,
And brocht him to þe pallace on ane bere;
And quhan he to þe pallace cumin was,
“Com furth, trature”, he said, “Pensionas!”
With þat þe tother in hart was sare agast,
Quhan þat he saw þe palace ȝettis vpcast,
And saw þat þair bene na vther remede,
Schupe to defend, and fecht quhill he war dede,
For him haid levir ane hunder tymes de
Na be damanit as he wist he wald be;
Bot nocht for-thy, quhidder him ware weill or wa,
Off his menȝeis was nocht bot tak and sla—
Him-self was in þe taking woundit sair.
Than Alexander gart bring his father þaire,
Quhilk was sare woundit, þat he mycht nocht leve,
Bot in his hand ane sworde thay till him geve,
And with his hand he slew Pensionas,
Quhilk of his dede mother of tratouris was;
Than King Philipe sa blyth was, and sa glaid,
That of his fa he him revengit haide—
He askit ane drink, and send efter þe quene.
Than Alexander gart hing and draw bedene
All þat war cum þair with þe tratour strang,
Syne to þe kingis chalmer all þai gang,

And gart wryt vp þe landis of foirfatour,
And ordinit for þe kingis sepulture;
He tuk his leif at quene and all þe leave,
And quhare him leist, of his guddis he gaue:
Till Alexander his sone he gaif his croun,
And harthfullie gaif him his benesone.

Thus Alexand[er] vnto þe croun is gane,
And all þe realm intill his hand hes tane,
And syne gart ordane day of parliament,
Quhare all þe legis of his landis was lent,
Off Grece, of Armene, and of Sclauony,
Of Macedone partit, and Dulary;
And quhan þai war all semblit him befoire,
“Lordingis,” he said, “þis is þe caus quhare-fore
I haue ȝow semblit: Philip my father is dede,
And neidfull is to haue ane in his stede,
That may gouern and [keip] þir lordschipis all
Fra inemeis, quhat case þat euir befall;
Lo heir þe croun I put in ȝour chosall,
And heir-attour I gif ȝow my counsall,
To cheis ane king with haill consent,
To quhome þair is baith wit and wisdome lent,
And power als to keip ȝow and defend—
Ȝe se quhow Dare ȝow has his message send,
To haue tribut or to destroy ȝour land,
And ȝe mon othir obey vntill his wand
Or ellis to cheis ane man of gouernance,
Ȝow to defend fra sic clame and challance.
I say nocht þis for I wald me ingere,
For ȝe haue mony wyser lordis here,
Off perfyte age, and als of hie prudence,
Mycht gouern all þis warld, for sapience,
And I am bot ane childe heir, as ȝe se,
And hes eneuch of heretage for me,
Baith of conquest and of motheris landis,
Of Armene, þat now cummis in hir handis,
And thocht I was maid air be testament,
Ȝit will I put it in ȝour iugement,
And heir resingis all my power hale
To ȝow lordis, and to ȝour gud consall;

Supois þat I mycht hald it throw puissance,
I will nocht haue it with ȝour displesance,
And thairfoir cheis quhom ȝe think worthiest—
I sall supple him quhill my lyf may lest,
For gude loue and seruice to me done.”
With þat he steppit doun out of þe trone,
And leit þe croun vpoun þe sege stand,
And till ane secreit chalmer was gangand;
With þat þe lordis and pepill gaue ane cry,
And him requirit to cum agane in hy,
And tak his sege and heir quhat þai wald say,
And said nane vther empriour cheis wald þai,
Sayand, “We mak ȝow lord and gouernour,
Oure protectour, oure king, oure empriour.”
With þat þe croun vpoun his hede þai sett—
The pepill all for ioy and blythnes grett;
The sworde and sceptour þai set into his hand,
And euirie man maid fewtie for his land.
Than sat þe king doun in his maiestie,
And tuk possessioun of soueranetie,
And askit þame help and þair counsall,
Sen he was ȝoung, to mend his gouernall,
Sayand, “Suppois ȝour king ȝe ordant me,
Ȝit am I nothing bot a man as ȝe,
And rycht as I haue greter gouernall,
I haue mare charge, vexatioun, and travell.
In þat I haue mare lordschip and mair land,
So mon þair be far ma on it levand,
And in sa mekill I haue mare gold and geir,
Euirilk thing mot þair awin charge bere—
Thus haue I nocht of lordschipe bot ane name,
And gif I failȝe, I ber þe greter blame,
And euir þe hear charge, þe greter lak,
Gif it misgouernit be and gaes abak;
And vther profeit wat I nane for me,
Bot gif I win ane gude name quhen I de.
The warldis we[l]th is bot a sonnis beme—
Rycht now it lichtis, rycht now away þe leme;
The lust of mete, als weill as pure as ryk,
Lustis of nature, to euirie man alyke,

The gold, þe gere, þe riches, away gais,
The erd remanis, and na profit ws mais,
For thocht myne are ane gud man efter be,
Quhat merit may his gudnes do to me,
Gif þat I de out of þe stait of grace?
I may nocht be redemit throw his gudnes,
Bot euirie man his awin charge mon bere—
Quhan we ar gane, þan may ws help na gere.
Thus may ȝe wene ȝe do me profeitis grete—
The greter fyre, mair grevand is þe haite;
Bot nocht þe les, sum mon þe charge haue:
Sen ȝe think me moir lykand þan þe leave,
I thank ȝow mekill, and als I ȝow requ[e]re
Of help, of counsall, and of gud prayer,
To gouern sua þat God me greace wald send
Him for to pleis, syne ȝow, and mak gud end.”

All þis was weill—syne of þe were þai mute,
Off Dairis messingeris, and of his tribute,
And quhat in þat mater war best be done—
The maist perrell suld be remediit sone.
Than said þe lordis ilkane þair avys,
And first began at þam þat was maist wys,
The quhilkis said þair counsall wes suthlie
To cheis out of þe oist allanerlie
Ane certane nummer of ȝoung men in þair flouris,
Quhilk best mycht stand in battall and in stouris,
For multitud of folk gret cummer mais,
And men of eild in battell fewest slayis,
And ar ouir waik and febill till indure,
To walk þe ward, to travell and labure,
That ȝoung men may, þat ar in strenth and mycht,
Quhilkis may indure þe pane baith day and nycht.
The king said, “Lordis, answeir, saif ȝour grace—
Ȝe suld considder weill ane vther case:
The ȝoung ay ar rycht rasche, and suddan stert,
And lukis nocht þe perrell efterwart,
That ald men dois, þat hes sic perrell sene,
And before tyme in sic anteris hes bene;
Thay ar haistie, þair wit is in þair nois,
And betuix wit and folie mais na chois,

And oftymes vnavisitlie dois þair deid,
That garris þame oftymes spurn quhan þai suld speid,
And into þair braith and in þair hicht of blude,
Quhan-euir þai se þair fais þai are wode,
And oftymes followis in þair birnand will
But wyse consell, and oft þe end is ill;
And men of eild oft hes experience,
And rype of wit, fulfillit of prudence,
And seis befoir, and dois all stedfastlie,
With gude counsell, weill and avisitlie,
Na for na lychtlines þai ar nocht changeabill,
Bot sad of feris, in deid stedfast and stabill;
Bot neuirþeles baith gud ar in a feild—
Bot traistis weill, ȝouthed mon leire at eild.”
Than tuk he till avise of þair counsall,
That he suld first [conqueis] þe landis haill
In þe west art, quhilk war to him maire couth,
Or he past in þe este or in þe southe.

Sa was a cuntre callit Turgantes,
Quhilk to King Philip ay rebelland was;
Thair was þe tempill of Apollinis—
Ane gret repair of sacrifice þair is;
Thair was a woman preist, a virgine clene,
Quhilk of þe tempill virgine lang haid bene,
And till hir name scho callit was Stogora;
Thair Alexander com sacrifice to ma.
Syne past he to þe landis of Illary,
And put in his obesance halelie,
And for it was deliuerit but battall,
Thairfor we mak þe les memoriall.
And fra þat land syne efter passit he
Intille ane land quhaire standis Staloni[e],
Ane gret citie quhilk standis on þe sey,
Quhilk in schort tyme he gart till him obey,
And out of Stalone passit in Italie,
And conquest þe landis of Romanie:
Bot Rome was nocht þan in gret maiestie—
It was beginnand mychtie for to be;
Ma þan thre thousand schipis passit he þair,
Quhilk ilkane haid ane hunder men and mare,

And send imbassadouris in all þai landis,
The quhilk all com obedient to his handis,
Baith Spanȝe, Gallik, and eik Lumbardie
(Thair war nane ilis inhabit in þe seye,
Bot with gyantis, nor was na prince nor roy
Quhil[l] efter þe distructioun of þe gret Troy
To Rome com Antenor and Eneas,
Than vther ma in Gallik cumin was—
Bot France was maist in na subiectioun
Syne first it bare of France þe renoun.
Paris of Troy to Paris gaue þe name,
Quhilk was ane of þe sonnis of King Priam,
And Litill Brytane namit he Brutus—
Thaire was þe names of Gallik changit þus).
And syne he send to þame of Germanie,
Quhilkis now ar callit þe landis Almanȝe.

Off the obedience [to] Alexander [of] þe partis of Rome

And first to Rome he send imbassadouris,
To þe lordis, counsellis, and senatouris,
The quhilkis newlie to grow beginnand was,
And nocht desyrit bot love, freindschip, and peace,
And þai till Alexander imbassiat send,
With fair answer and gold eneuch to spend;
Of cunȝeit go[l]d þai send ane thousand stane,
Ane riche croun, þat fairar mycht be nane,
Fyve hundreth stedis of Calabrie and Pouvie,
Ten thousand of siluer of Lumbardie;
With þat þai maid him full obedience—
Quhan euir he com, þair suld be no defence;
And efter þis, till vther landis seir
Till ask tribut he send in þis maneir.
In all cuntreis on þis syd þe Greik Sey,
As Rome did þan, sa did all þis cuntre—
Thame thocht to gif fare language les þa[m] noyit
Na for to be oureriddin and destroyit,
For litill tribut littill scaith will mak
Quhill þat men saw quhat end þat it wald tak.
Syne with his flott fra þine departit he

Into þe landis of Affrik be þe seye,
And conquest Affrik, baith in tour and toun,
And put it all in his subiectioun,
With Roddis, Candie, Cyprus, and Citillis,
With mony vther cuntre, landis, and ilis,
Syne till ane gret ile callit was Famagos,
Quhare was ane tempill of þe god Amois,
The quhilk helpit þe king Nectanabus
In his getting, sa did god Serapus.
Thair maid he his offrand and sacrifice,
And askit þame help, counsall, and avise,
For he haid ay maist deuotioun to þai,
And in þe temp[i]ll was sacrifice tha tway,
The quhilkis tauld him mony ferlie thingis,
Off his weird, fortune, and his gouerningis,
And said him he suld neuir ourcumin be
Quhill his last day þat him behouit to de,
Na nane in warld suld turn abak his weird,
Mare þan þe hillis of Armenie mycht be steird.
Syne at his goddis fast requirit he
Thay wald him tell quhat ded þat he suld de,
And þai answerit and said it was nocht his prowe
To haue knawlege of his ending, as now,
For it suld put him in distrublance,
And quhan he thocht þairon, tyne all plesans;
Nocht þan, þai wald weill warn him of quhat dede,
Bot nothing in þe hour, nor in quhat stede,
Sayand, with wapon suld he neuir be slane,
Na of na vther seiknes thole na pane,
Bot anerlie by drinking of poisone,
Off þame he traistit maste, be fals tresoun;
Baid him be blyth, for þat wald nocht be sone,
For mekill thing by him first suld be done,
For or þat tyme he suld be lord and syre,
And all þis warld haue vnder his impyre.

Than Alexander in hart was wounder sade,
And sone þe company remove he bade,
And syne in gret haist agane passit he
Till Stalone, quhare he before tuk þe see,
And in þat land of Egypt, þat was riche,

The name of Stalone citie he gart fiche,
And callit it efter him self Alexandrie,
Gart mak it stark, and wall it mychtilie.
Bot in þat land sa gret aboundance was
Off edderis, quhilk half waistit haid þe place—
Than gar he rais þe banis of Ieremy,
Quhilk lay intill ane citie neir þareby,
And brocht þame in and beriit þame in þe toun—
Syne fra þine furth was neuir edder na dragoun;
First in ane ferture all about þe toun
Gart þame be born, with gret deuotioun,
Off quhilk, for þe virtue of his holie banes,
The serpentis war all waistit þair at anis.
Than gart he mak ane tempill in þat toun,
Off Seraphus, and of god Amoun,
And þair lay ay þe banis of Ieremyne,
Quhill Cristis birth, þat nobill Constantine
Was crounit, and gaue all Romany
Till Pape Siluester, Italie and Germany,
Quhilk conquest all þai landis to þe se,
Baith Inde, Grece, Egipt, and Arabie,
And all þe laue he ordand till obeye,
Fra Paradise vnto þe Occiane Sey,
And he raisit vp þai banis halelie,
And in Constantinopill þaire thay ly,
Intill ane kirk of Sanct Sophia—
Thay sall þame find quha lykis þaire to ga.

Than Alexander put in his obesance
The landis of Egipt, with þare alliance,
And all Sydone put he vnder his impyre,
And Araby all to the toun of Tyre,
And fra Ierusalem to þe Ociain Sey,
And syne to þame of Ierusalem send he,
Till mak to him þaire obedience þare,
With sic tribute as þai war woinit to Dare,
And to þe bischop of þe toun he send,
The quhilk as prince of preistis he pretend;
And þai answerit agane in þis maner,
Sayand þat Dare was þair prince and emporar,
And till him haid maid ane iurament,

And nocht mycht do but his comandiment;
Off quhilk answeir Alexander was wraith,
And said, to crab þe kirkmen he was laith,
Baid þam gang and be avisit in communitie,
And of þair answeir better counselit be.
With þat his goddis halielie hes sworn,
Bot he gat better answer on þe morn,
To mak to him full and hale obeysance,
He suld tak of þame sic ane vengeance
That memor suld be vnto þe warldis end.
With þat þe princis of þe toun him send
Ane imbassiat, þat of his grace wald he
Assouer þame, of his gret nobilitie,
Quhill baith þe princis and þe hale commone
Mycht send to Dare, to mak subtractioun
And draw fra him all hale obeysance,
And gif him vp þair aith of allegeance;
Than Alexander, þat euir of wit was abill,
Saw þat þair answer was ressonabill—
He grantit, and bad þame weill confort [be]
Quhill he suld cum agane in þat cuntre,
And nocht be dred for Dare nor his offence,
For he suld leif and de in þair defence.

Than Alexander conselit with his empyre,
Thocht, sen he was sa neir þe toun of Tyre,
Quhilk was ane stapill, and bandonit all þe land,
That quhill þair answer agane was cumand
He wald pas þair to se quhow it wald be,
And tak þe obeysans of þate cuntre.
All þis for were his prouisioun he makis,
And into Pers þe narrest way he takis;
And in þe way ane gret castell þai spy,
Quhilk was so hie it semit in þe sky,
And sett vpoun ane roche meruelus,
And vnder it ane passage parrellus;
The cuntre was baith strait and onwinnabill,
And for to tyne gude men was wounder abill.
Thair was ane duke, keipar of þat cuntre,
Ane mychtie, proud, and ane haltan was he;
The king send till him, and bad ȝeild him þe place,

And he said na, and swore be Goddis grace
He haid na maister bot Dare, of Pers þe king,
And to nane vther wald mak answering.
The assalt past to, with ledder, myne, and sailȝe,
And laid sege to with plane battailȝe,
And first þai gaue ane salt, and syne ane vther,
And sua contenand ilkane efter vther,
Quhill at þe last, quhat leddering, quhat with myne,
Quhat schot of gun, quhat bumbard, quhat ingyne,
Thay wan þe castell, schortlie for to say.
The duk was hangit on þe ȝettis or day;
Ane huge gold in þat place þai fand,
For þare was all þe riches of þe land—
He delt þe riches til his lordis hale,
Put garisoun and stuf in þat castell.
The king tuk sic ane cald into þat tyde,
Quhare he was lugit on ane riuer syde,
That euirie man traistit þat he suld de—
Thay maid sic dule þat sorow was to se;
Sa com ane medicenar, ane worthie man
(For Aristotill was nocht in presence þan),
Confort þe men, and bad þame mak gude cheir,
For he suld mak þe king baith hale and feir—
And sua he did, nocht ganestand þat þair was
Profferit him ane lordschip and ane place
Be Dare þe king, ȝoung Alexander to sla;
The king be letter warnit was alsa,
The quhilk letter he schew þe medicinar,
Efter þat he maid him haill and feir,
Sayand to him, “Now, gud schir, may þow se
That but dispaire I put my lyf in þe.”
He answerit sayand he haid leuir iugit be,
And furth-with hingit one gallow tre,
“Or I consentand war to be tratour,
For þan forfet I baith saull, lyf, and honour.”
Than gafe þe king till him for his rewarde
The samyne castell, and maid him duke and laird.

Quhan þat þe king haid þus his restis heir,
And of his meledie was hale and feir,
He bad blaw vp, and bad his ost avant,

Intill ane cuntre callit is Recreant,
The quhilk was full of rochis and montangneȝe,
Quhilk was sa strait þat hors and man it maingneȝe,
Quhare þat þe passages sa narow was
That þair mycht nocht at anis thre men pas,
And gret roches aboue þair hedis hie
One euirie syde, þat ferlie was to see,
And vnder þame vpoun þe tother syde
Thair was ane glen, þat was baith deip and wyde,
And syne sa how and schore, deip to the ground,
And wounder mony folk it did confound,
For þai mycht nocht sa littill step on syde
Bot þai suld fall into þai wanis wyde,
And quhan þai fell, þan suld þai fall weill neir
Ane hundreth fawdome doun ane riuieier,
And syne aboue with cast of stanis doun.
Thair mycht nane pas þat passage to þe toun,
The quhilk of all þat cuntre was þe entre,
Bot þai assouerit war with þat citie—
And all þat passage passit þe nobill king
On hors, befoir þe day in ane morning,
And com agane and syne þe ost gart draw
Vpoun ane plane, quhare all þe citie saw,
And stent þair tentis and þair pavillionis,
Furth send furiouris, be delis and be downis,
And set all hale þe cuntre in a fyre
(It was þe entre of þe land of Tyre),
And brint, and slew, and forrayit all þe land,
And leit nother fortres, toun, nor castell stand.
Than send þe rok till Alexander message,
Requirand him to tak of þame trewage,
And leve þair land and þame in peace and rest—
Thay suld him gif passage till his conquest,
And þairupoun hostage þai suld him send,
Frelie to pas, and gold eneuch to spend;
Bot Alexander said certis he wald be
Vpoun þat roche, and all þe maner se.
Thay war content, and put in his gentrice,
For þare was þairin worthie men and wis,
And leit him in, with all his cumpany,

And he did þame þe far mair courtessie;
And þair þai fand ane image maid of stane
Off marbill, and syne with gold begane,
And wrytin on it quhow þat Neptalius
Was þare first lord, and maid þat image þus.
The clerkis bad him pas till his conquest,
For he suld win als lang as land war este,
And said þai haid of him in prophecie
That all suld bow vnto his senȝeorie.
Thus enterit he in þe landis of Pers,
And to þe men of kirk for þaire rehers
Gret giftis and rewardis he þame gaue,
And put in his protectioun all þe leave.

Of þe cuming of Alexander in Cartage

And efter þis intill ane land come hee
Is callit Cartage, and till ane gret citie,
Quhare þame behovit pas throw a gret merres,
And syne fra þat to þe citie of Trais;
And in þat cuntre is ane mirk valee,
For na man may for mirknes in it se,
With ane gret montane on þe tother syde,
Bot in þat valee no man dar abyde,
It is sa mirk and hiddius, nycht and day,
For ane mirk cloud þair hingis aboue it ay;
And to þat citie þat is callit Trais,
Betuix þat mirknes and þe gret merresse,
Thair past þe oist without forder damnage,
And to þe citie send þai þare message,
And bad þame ȝeild þe citie to þe king;
And said þai douttit him na thing,
Bot or he past, þat worde full deir they bocht,
For þai war destroyit, tane, and put to nocht,
And slane, and brint þe toun, sic was þair weird,
And all þair wallis doun cassin to þe erd.
Fra þine þe king past by ane vther way
Into Surry, quhare weill resauit war thay,
For þai louit nothing þe empriour,
For he was ay fraward to þame and sour;
Bot Alexander þai louit him for his renoun,

And him resauit with honour in þair toun,
The quhilk citie standis hie vpoun ane roche,
The quhilk departis Pers fra Anteoche,
Quhare watter haid þai nane bot fra þe hevin—
And till him ȝeildit þair ware citeis sevin
(Bot of Anteoche ȝit þe gret abbay
Was nocht foundit þairefter mony a day);
Bot Alexander gaif halelie all þat land
To Anteochus, quhilk was his awin seruand.
Syne passit þai till ane land þai call Sully,
And wan and conquest it all halelie;
And quhan he conquest cuntre or citie,
He gaif it syne to sum of his menȝe,
And ordand þame to keip þair þe gouernance,
Doand him service and obedience,
Tak þame þe lordschip and keip weill þe land,
And quhan he come, be bowand till his wand.

His first entrie in þe landis of Tyre

Syne rais þe oist and passit inner mare,
And thocht to pas quhare-euir wes King Dare.
Thus, quhan þai haid passit ane gret iornie,
The gret touris of þe toun of Tyre þai see.
Than Samsone sichit, his hart was wounder wa,
And ouir his cheikis þe teiris fast can ga;
The king persauit, and bad him mak gude cheir:
“Thow salbe lord or euir I pas fra heir—
Off all þis land of Tyre þow sall be lord;
Thow sall it haue, or lois our lyvis forde.”
Than com þe ost neir hand to þe citie,
The quhilk was closit all about with þe see,
Bot ane entre þat entrit fra þe land,
The breid bot of ane bowschot of dry land,
And þair but mare þai plant þair pavillionis doun,
And laid the sege be land about þe toun.
And on ather syde þe toun þair was ane place
Quhare weill three hundreth schipis rydand was,
With mercheandice cum out of far cuntreis,
And alsa sone as Alexander þat seis,
He send and sesit all þai schipis hale,

The quhilk was purviit weill with victale—
Thay durst nocht ische to help þame out of Tyre,
For quhan him list, to birin þame all in fyre
It was weill in his power, or to sink,
Bot nocht þe les þe better far him think
To hald þame hale, quhat case þat euir befall,
For throw þame he avisit þat he sall
Sa garnische þame þat, as be land segit he
The toun of Tyre, sa suld he be the see.
The Duke Balyse, þat gouerned all þe toun,
As lord and syre haid all at his bandoun,
Cald his counsall, sayand quhow gud it was
Quha mycht be counsell haue ane honest pace,
And said, him thocht it speidfull for to send,
And sum pairt of þair riches to dispend,
And for to labour to get peace and rest;
The tounschip also þame thocht it best,
And thocht ane contributioun forto mak,
And se gif Alexander wald for þare saik
Thare present thankfullie tak, and þair gud will,
And pas furth by þe toun and do na ill,
For þai wist weill þat he wald neuir pas hence
Quhill he haid trewage or obedience,
And quhat ware þai þe war to gif fair wordis,
And parte of gud to will þe loue of lordis—
Fair language garris men oft chape gret perrell,
And prydie wordis fall oft in gret tinsall.
Than answerit þe wise lordis of þe toun,
Sayand, “Ȝe wat we haue ane riche croun—
We sall him send þat croun, with gold eneuch.”
With þat ane knycht callit Ladinis leuch,
Sayand, “Hald ȝe nocht ȝour landis of King Dare?
Quhair-foir I haue gret wounder þat ȝe dar
But his consent gif ony lord trewage,
Or put þis citie in ony wrang thirlage—
Ȝe may weill wit he will nocht be content;
Quhair-for me think it best þat first ȝe sent
Till Alexander, þat he wald nocht him greif
That ȝe send to ȝour lord and ask him leif.”

This thing was done, bot Alexander na wald,

Sayand, and þai þe ȝettis closit hald,
That he suld neuir fra þat citie gane
Quhill þat he saw ane stane stand one stane,
And with þat send he to þame Tholomee,
And bad þame be avisit sone, and see
Quhat þai wald do, and gif him answeir.
The duke wald haue tratie erar þan were—
Than spak þe knycht Ladinis de Mont Myre,
Sayand, “King Dare is rychteous lord of Tyre”,
And sayand, “But his will and his consent,
To ȝeld þe toun þe duke is nocht content.”
Than to þe salt þai passit furth in haist,
And treis and fagottis in þe se þai keist,
Erd and stanis, to dam and fill þe gott,
Quhill þai maid be-out þe wallis ane mott,
Vpoun þe quhilkis þair men mycht saiflie stand,
And with þe toun fecht stoutlie hand for hand;
Bot þair was sic ane slauchter and a murth
Off manis blud, quhat in þe toun, quhat furth,
With schot of gun, baith furthwart and inwart,
That it was pitie till ony gentill hart.
With þat, of þe see com sic ane huddun,
Sa hiddius was, sa terribill of fassioun,
That all þe ost þame to pavilionis drew,
And mony of þe kingis men sche slew—
Sche haid ane mouth was mare nor ony tun,
Off diueris hewis, blak, ȝallow, red, and dun,
With tuskis lang, hornis and clukis baith,
With þat sche was sa onlikand and sa leith
That all þe folk traistand sche was ane fende,
Quhilk Sathanas furth-with fra Hell haid sende,
For of ane schip sche wald stryk out þe syde,
And swellie men, hir lippis war sa wyde,
And as ane dragon als scho spoutit fyre.
And quhan scho haid þe sege put fra Tyre,
Syne on þe land toward þe oist is gane,
And of þe narrest pallionis brint vp ane;
With þat þe king and all his worthie knychtis
To fecht with hir in battall all þame dychtis,
And quhan sche saw cum Alexander þe king,

Scho turnit hir with ane murmuring,
And to þe seye furth-with in haist scho past,
Quhairof þe folk of Tyre war sa agast—
Thay wenid all sone deliuerit to haue bene,
And mekill sorow on þair fais sene,
And quhan þai saw hir plunge doun in þe see,
“Now traist we weill”, þai said, “oure toun is fey.”

And þan þe oist þat nycht restit in rufe,
Quhare þai befoir war purposit to remufe,
Bot in þe toun þai schope ane vther wyle:
Thay haid ane loch, þe lenth was of ane myle,
With gane charris and clous[is] weill yclosit,
Throw quhilk þe lyf of mony ane leid was losit,
That quhan þai wald vnclose it and lat doun,
It ran with sic ane force about þe toun
It bare away quhateuir befoir it fand;
Thus all þat þai befoir haid tane in hand,
To dam þe dykis, þe see, and þe gott,
Quhare þai befoir haid maid þe mekill mott,
Vpoun þe morn away was swipit clene,
And rycht nocht left, as þare nothing haid bene.
Than Alexander gart hew ane forest doun,
And maid of irn mony ane gret gaugioun,
And dulit to-gidder fast aikis grette,
And chenȝeit þame, as linkis of a thett,
And syne ilkane efter vther þai cast,
And with þai chenȝeis linkit þame so fast
That quhare ane ȝeid, all suld toggidder ga,
Syne fillit þame ouir with erd and stanis sua
That it was far mare sicker na befoire,
And als þe watter þat bare it away was lore—
The dam was out, and it was lang to fill,
And in þe tyme þai mycht tak mekill ill.
Than bent þai vp þaire ginnis and ingyne,
And to þe salt in haist þai schupe þame syne,
With all þair mychtis, baith be land and se,
And þai defendit fast off þe citie.
The duke was raid, and wald fane haue accorde,
Bot Ladinis de Mont Myre was nocht forde;
The duke bad forge wapnis and vther gere,

And all armour þat ganit for þe were,
And mekill of þair schottis war all consumit,
And, becaus þat þai tretie ay presumit
Thay war nocht busie at þe forgerie,
And wantit schot to þair artailȝearie.
Than all þe smythis schupe þame to mak harnes,
Bot þare was neuir warkman in þat place
Bot quhan þe hammer on þe irn straik,
Out of þe irn blude in stremes braik,
That þair was nane mycht mak ane peice of gere,
Speire, na springald, na wapin for þe were,
For blude þat of þe burnand irn out brast—
Thair was na wark þat in þair hand wald laste.
Than said þe toun, “We se þare is bot dede—
Thare will ane vengeance fall ws, but remede.”
The salt contenewit tua dayis or thre,
Bot it to win na narrar couth þai be,
And mony of his men war hurt and slane;
The oist ȝeid to þair pallionis agane,
And restit þame and þame refreschit weill,
And thocht þat þai war stark as ony steill.

Than tuk þe king avise þat he wald ga
And luge fra þe toun ane lig or tua,
And lat þe flot of schipis oure all thing
Keip na schip na victuall to þame bring;
Sa in þe nycht þair com ane voce him till,
And forbad him þat purpois to fulfill,
And bad him spy ane vther strenthie place,
Bot fra þe toun of Tyre a littil space,
Ane litill ile, ane crag out in þe sey,
And þair gar big ane stark castell suld he,
And garnis it with men and with victale,
And quhan him list to gif þe toun assaile,
It to assale baith be sey and be land.
And in þe morning, quhan he was walkand,
He callit his counsell, and schew þame þe visioun,
Syne red about and visiit all þe toun,
And spyit þe place and it avisit weill;
And be þe voce þat spak he haid ane feill,
And but delay his message send abak,

Gart all þe masonis of his conquest tak,
And all þe wrychtis þat war in þat cuntre,
And sone ane mychtie castell bigit hee
Vpoun ane roche quhilk be þe passage lay,
That nother bate, scheipp, barge, na galay
Mycht be þe se bring victuall to þe toun,
And thairin put sa gret ane garnisoun
That þai abandonit baith be see and land,
And maistrit all þe cuntre with strang hand,
And all þe flott haid in þair gouernall,
Quhidder þame list be sey or land assale.
And ay þe king inforcit his menȝe sa
That euirie day his [ost] was ma and ma,
For his renoun of gentrice and larges,
Quhaire euir he past, it gart [his] ost incres.
Thus was þe king be land and se purvayd,
And to þe toun þai pas but mare abaid,
Thame till assailȝe vpoun ather syde,
Baith sey and land, betyde quhat euir betyde,
For in his goddis fyance euir haid hee
That he suld neuir be man ouircumin be,
Than saw þe toun tretie wald be nane,
Bot þame to ȝeild or to be forcelie tane—
Thay send ane trattie, þat wald he grant a thing,
Thay suld þe toun to him but straik resinge,
Tha[m]e to respute ane fourtene dayis, but mare,
That þai mycht warn þair lord, quhair euir he ware,
And gif he wald na succour to þame send,
Efter þe fyftene dayis war cumin till end
Thay suld deliuer, but ony questioun,
Baith land and lordschip, castell, tour, and toun.
The king consenting sone to þair asking,
For he desyrit battall attour all thing,
And in þe mene tyme gart his fut menȝe
About þe toun cast stanis in þe see
Vpoun þe tymmer, þat he chanȝeit fast,
And maid ane way as it suld euir last,
About þe toun þat men suld ryd and ga
Quhare as þe see was wonit his cours to ma.
Than Duke Balys send furth his messinger

Till Duke Betis, quhilk was his cousing dere,
Duk of Gadderis, ane lord of gret powere,
To quhom þe land obeyit, les and mair,
And let him wit of all his gouernance,
Of his vexatioun and his distrublance,
The quhilk begouth to ramp as a lioun
Quhan he hard of his oppressioun.

Than Duk Betis þat day, but mare abade,
To the king ane messinger he maide,
And tald him all, and askit him succour,
Sen he was þair king and emprioure,
And in þe menetyme gadderit his puissance
To keipe þe day was sett, but delayance,
And send his lettres, baith be far and neir,
That ony thing wald do for his prayere.
Than Alexander haid maid all his devise,
His oist was lugit vpoun þe watter of Lyse;
Bot Duk Betis haid reddour of þe toun,
And priuelie put in a mare garnisoun
To Duk Balyse, in þe toun of Tyre,
Weill twentie thousand send fra þair empyre,
And bad þame be of confort and gud cheir,
For þair reskewing suld he cum, but weire.
Thane said Ladinis, þat was a worthie knycht,
To Duke Balis, “I traist with Goddis mycht,
Will ȝe me trow, I sall þame mak affray—
We ar enew to fecht, as for ane day.”
The Duke Balis said, “I am reddie boun,
Sen we sa mony ar into þis toun;
I wald our gud will in sum thing mycht be kend,
Sen we ar sicker þat succour sall be send.”
With þat till Alexander ane messinger þai maid,
And him defyit, but ony mair abaid,
And he, þat euir to battell was redie boun,
Armit his oist, and maid him for þe toun,
And Duke Balis, with ane fair company,
Mett þame befoir þe toun rycht manfullie;
And þair þai straik þe battall in a stour,
Quhill mony a knycht sair woundit war þat hour,
And mony ane hedles helm left in þe feild,

And mony ane knycht dede lyand vnder scheild,
And mony ane speir and wapin maisterles,
And mony ane bludie hawbrek littit was,
And mony ane brokin spere and woundit hors,
And mony ane hawbrek persit, and bludie cors,
And mony ane suaprit, þat neuir reis agane,
And mony ane woundit knycht full grislie grane.
The king into melle full weill belevit
That his first battall was rycht sare grevit,
And saw þe duke haue bot ane battall,
And he haid nane of his oist mouit avale,
Bot anerlie ane battall of his watche;
And of þe leave he send furth-with to feche,
Set ane battall betuix þame and þe toun,
That gif þai wald mak recreatioun
Quhan þai war sarit draw to þe toun agane
(For he saw weill þai war in mekill pane,
And with þair honour fane wald bene away,
For þai war irkit, forefochin all þat day),
That eik suppois þe cais þat þai wald fle,
That to þe toun na narrar þai suld be.
And quhan þe duke Balis saw þat he was
Vmbelappit betuix him and þe place,
And þat he mycht of na wys haue entre,
Than him behouit other do or de,
And saw þe king, and he his armes knew,
And left all vther and to þe king he drew,
And on his scheild ane stalwart speir he braik;
The king in passand gaue him sic ane straik
Quhill on þe helm þe sworde braik all bedene,
For his awin spere before brokin haid bene,
And with þe straik þe duke Balus sare gr[e]vit;
Bot Alexander in nathing him am[e]uit,
And quhan his hors was grouland to þe erd,
The king spurit Busefall, and fast him sterd,
And vnder his arme þe dukis hede he claucht,
And of his hors in dispite of his maucht
He raisit him, said, “Þow sall ga with me”.
With þat Ladynis þe duk on fut couth se,
And till drew, for to mak him rescours,

And to þe king him thocht to mak a cours,
Strenȝeit his steid, and schupe ane cours of were;
Bot Alexander haid nother ane sworde nor spere,
And in þe tyme Dawclyne saw Ladynis ryde,
And with ane spere hit him vpoun þe syde—
Haid nocht his hawbrek bene of better force
He haid him strikin quyte out-throw þe cors;
And þus þe duke on fute in þe battalȝe
Was woundit sare, and bled throw his cammalȝe.
The duke was horst agane, with sworde in hand,
And till ane Greik gaue sic ane ramanand
Sydlingis þe nek, quhill his scheild held agane,
Bot his nekbane was cuttit quite in twane;
With þat com Tholome amang þe leave,
And þe king ane sworde in hand he gaue.
All þus Emenedus to Ladinis him sett,
And Ladinis agane him stoutlie mett—
In baith þe scheildis sa weill þe straikis fest
That baith þair speris into sounder brast;
With þat þe duk ouirtuke Emenedus
At his ganecum, þe storie telleth þus,
That throw his hawbrek he woundit him full sare,
And he almost for bleding mycht no mare,
For Alexander him haid woundit befoir,
And Tholome also was woundit sore.
Than Perdicas, þat Tholomee saw blede,
Was sare agrevit, sat on ane nobill steid,
And saw þe duke drawand him neir þe toun
(The blud ran ouir his cot-armes doun),
And spurrit his steide þe duke till haue ouir-tane;
Sa com betwene a knycht of Surriane,
For to reskew þe duke into þe feild,
Bot Perdicas him hit vnder þe scheild,
And with ane sworde out-throw þe cors him bare,
Quhill flatlingis in þe feild he fell doun þare.
With þat þe duke þan sped him to þe toun—
For bleiding Tholome fell neir in swoun;
Than com Dawcline, and band his woundis fast,
And saw Ladynis haid strikin ane Greik, and past,
And with ane spere he gaif him sic a wound

That hors and man ȝeid stummerand to þe ground.
With þat þe king, þat followit on þe flycht,
Hit Saliges de Sardigneȝe, ane knycht,
And with ane sworde his hed fra him he choppit,
Quhill helim and hed baith in þe feild doun hoppit.
The douzepeiris saw þe king follow þe chace,
And euirie man fersar nor vther was
To do þair det, ilkane in þair degre,
And at þe duke quha mycht þe formaist be,
Thay wald him sa fane in handis tane,
That ilkane in þair passing straik doun ane.
Sa com Samsone, vpoun ane steid pransand,
Quhilk suld be rychteous air of all þat land,
And hit ane knycht was callit Dariane,
Quhilk with þat straik plat to þe erd is gane;
With þat þe segne of Macedone þai cryit,
And all þe prykaris to [þe] king relyid,
And sarralie þai followit one þe chase—
The folk of Tyre wald fane be at þare place.
Thair men mycht se cot-armes at þe erd,
And Busefall vnder þe king him steird—
That hors or man þat he gat in his tusk
Or on his horn, he gaue him sic ane rusk
That hors or man he bair doun to þe ground,
That of þe flearis in ane litill stound
Off dede and hurt men so thik þe feild was sawin
That [oneith] mycht þe erd for þame be knawin.
Than Emenedus all reddie was boun
With ane battall betuix þame and þe toun,
And quhan þe fleand folk wald þame retret,
Into þe toun þare mycht nane entre get;
Quhan þat he saw þe duke return agane,
Sayand him haid far levar to be slane
In plane battall na for to de fleand,
Than Alexander, þat saw him returnand,
Fe[w]trit his speir, and at him wald haue bene,
And on þe helm hit him betuix þe ene—
He gart him galay neir by of his hors,
Bot he haid bene sair woundit in his cors,
And fast was bleidand, þat euirie man mycht se,

Q[u]hare[fore] þe king haid of him sum pietie,
For of before of him he herde recorde
That he was all-way reddy to concorde—
War nocht Ladyinis, that was a pridfull man,
Ganestandit it, the place wer ȝeldit than.
Be þat Emenedus had strikin doun
With his battelle betuix thame and the toun,
That few was left, bot owderance slane or tane—
Sum that was chapit, to the wod is gane.
He slew a broder of Ladins of Mont Myre,
The quhilk was capitane of the toun of Tyre—
Emenedus his hede cuttit him fra,
Thairfor Ladins in hart was wounder wa,
And strake ane Greik þat by him was cumand,
Apone his helme, quhil all to-bras his brand—
His helme was crasit, and in the harnes him clave,
Quhill all the gold of Grece mycht nocht him save.
Emenedus þan to Ladins him drest,
And with ane speir greuweland to the erde him kest,
And Tholome, that was a man of mane,
Richt as he was recoverand vp agane
Schupe him a straik, and till him was cumand,
Bot he was sare woundit, and fast bledand,
That litill want[it] na hie in swovnyng fell;
Sa come Dauclyne, and tocht him for to quell—
For Tholomee his hart was wounder wa,
And with swerde his richt arme straik him fra,
Quhill all his blude out buschit in þe feild,
And he cald dede liand vnder his scheild.
Than was nocht ellis bot owtheran tak or sla,
And sum to wod and sum to sey can ga
(For haist þai micht nocht all entir in þe toun),
That mony in the sey men mycht se droun.
Thus is the batail endit and concludit,
And mony ane out of the sey excludit.
The duke was woundit sare, and him recryit,
And fast the Greioniȝ þare ensenȝe cryit,
That sic distructioun was of mannis blude,
Quhat in the feild, quhat drownand in þe flude,
That be the maist part all was tane and slane,

For richt few enterit in the toun agane,
Off ten thousand was send fra þe empire
Off Gaderis, for to kepe þe toun of Tyre.
With that the king retretit his baneris,
And to the palliouns led the presonneris,
And thus the bataill sic ane end hes tane;
The king and douzeperis to thare pallioun ar gane,
Disarmit thame, and maid richt gude chere,
And to the toun þai sett þare watchis nere.

Off the forraye of Gadderis

The king ordand his castell wele to kepe
Apone ane crag, in myddis of the depe,
And garnissid to kepe þat na veschall
Suld to the toun be sey bring na victuall,
And syne [be] land, sidlingis before the toun,
He gart ordand sa gret provisioun
That na man micht haue ischa or entrie
In the toun, nowthir be land nor sey;
Bot than the toun sa huge michtie was
That thair was na defalt within the place,
Bot anerly of men and weriouris.
Bot in the ost þame nedis furriouris,
Quhairfore the king to mak his purvaying
Sevin hundreth knichteis ordand in forraying,
To pas furth and to fecche þame victuallis,
And to furnes thame and garnes þare battallis
(Becaus the toun traistit reskew without
Thay wald nocht ȝeld, bot held þame stiff and stout);
To governe þair sevin hundreth knichtis was
Ordand Emenedus and Perdicas,
Leonides, Caulus, and Lyconore,
Philott, Nemas, Sanson, and Doridor.
Thus semlit þai, and to the forray gane—
Emenedus was ordand þare chiftane;
Thay war of cheis sevin hundreth knichtis kene,
Quhilk everie kny[cht mycht] wele ane chiftane bene,
And all that nicht, armit on hors thai rade,
And in vail of Iosephall thai bade,
The quhilk was f[u]l of riches and of gude,

Off corne, cattall, wyne, and liffis fude.
Than in the mornyng, quhan it was licht of day,
Off fatt cattall þai sesit ane michty pray,
And wther thing þat to thame was mystere
Thay tuk with thame, and tocht to mak gud chere.
The pray was sesit, and futmen for to cache—
Off discoverouris þai send about the wacch;
Thai draif on fast, of na man stude þai aw
And in the mornyng, eftir þat day couth daw,
The hirdis to the toun of Gadderis gais,
Quhair þai had reddy money felloun fais,
And tald the Duke Betis the maner,
And he gart sembill sone a gret powar,
With ane chiftane was callit Ochtrye,
Maister of his hous, a chiftane wyse and worthy.
Thay blew þare bewgillis of bane and oliphant,
And semblit comownis ma þan ten thousand,
Baith futt and hors, and followit in the pray,
And on the feild before þame in the way,
Thame till abyde arrayeit þare menȝie.
Bot thame þat few was had no will to fle
Quhan that thai saw the comownis cumand sa—
It was na neid to spere quhair the first sould ga,
For or thai had thair battalle put to poynt,
Thai put the formest horsmen [in] sic poynt
That thai had no laysere þame till array,
Bot at the erde sa thik thay lymmearis lay,
Sum dede, sum dosit, sum amange thare hors feete.
Ochtery Emenedus could mete,
And on him brek his spere richt spedaly,
Bot he, that evir was wise, war, and worthy,
Helde waitt on him at his income agane,
And schupe till him ane straik with all his meane,
And straik him, hors and man, doun in þe feild,
That or he rayis, þe lyffe fra him he keild;
And wther mony knichtis strikin was doun,
That chiftanis war, and keparis of þe toun.
With that thare futemen all was at the flicht
Quhane that thai saw the formest was sa dicht—
Thay war begylit, for thai traistit ay

The forreouris had bene sic [l]ike as þai,
Bot, as I said before, a man wourthy
Is worth ane hundreth in sic ane ieopardy,
Quhilk þare was sene, for of þai ten thousand
Thai left ane thousand in the feild liand;
And on the chais of futemen þai wald nocht
Follow richt far, for of thame þai na roucht,
Bot gart þare awne men cacche fast on the pray,
For thai traistit till haue ane vther assay.
Than was a knicht callit Lussioun of Surry,
That nere cousing was till Ochery,
Quhilk Perdicas before had strekin doun,
Bot he recoverit, and past vnto the toun,
And tauld Duke Betys how his eme was slane,
And how þai war sa few and sa hardy,
Skant ane thousand chaist all þare cumpaney,
Bot þai had hors and armoure of vantage.
With that the Duke Betis begouth to ra[ge],
And waryit God, and wrang his handis for tene,
Sa fane he wald at þat battalle haue bene,
Inarmit him, and gart warne all mankynd
That luffit or thocht him euer till haue til freynde,
In toun and land, bayth hors and fute away,
To pas with him for to reskew þat pray—
He micht nocht bide, he was sa brynt in ire.
The forray was ay passand vnto Tyre;
With that the duke, with thame that he micht gett,
Within the toun was passand to the ȝett—
Thai blew thare buglis, þare trumpettis, þare tabouris,
With sic ane fere apoun þare forreouris,
And sich a pompe quhan thai passit fra the ȝett,
Thay tocht þai war for thame bott etin mete.
Than said Lussian, cousing Ochechery,
“Lichtly þame nocht, bot governe ȝow wisely—
Tocht ȝe be may, quhan euere ȝe cum þame to
May fall parcais to mak ȝow all ado.”
The duke him selff the dede has tane on hand—
He was nomberit wele nere thretty thousand;
His men he partit into thre battallis,
Ane vther to be reddy gif ane failȝeis,

And furth he send discouerouris on all sydis,
And into battale ordand wele he ridis.
The first batall gouernit ane nobil knycht
Callit Lussian, quhilk was baith wise and wycht,
The tothir batale govern[it] ane Graudefere,
Quhilk was baith wise and wourth[y] man of were,
The thrid the duke had in his governance,
And furth þai ride þus inttill ordinance,
Off Iosaphail endlang the fare walee,
Quhill at the last the forreouris þai se.
With þat Emenedus can thame behald,
And all his cumpaney in counsale calde,
Said, “Lo, lordingis, ȝounder is ane gret supprise—
I se cumand in batall Duke Bitis,
With all powar þat he may gudlie be;
Thare is na bute bot owtherane do or de—
We ar oure few to gif thame batale place;
Bot mekill helpe standis in Godis grace,
For in discomfort lyis nane amend—
Mak ws gud chere, and stoutlie ws defend,
And lat the futemen pas on with the pray,
And we will bide and kepe the first affray.”
With that the battallis war aprochand nere;
Sansoun knew vele þe Duke Bites baner,
The quhilk was cumand in the myddill warde—
On everie side of him he hade ane garde.
Than said Emenedus, “Lord and Hevynnis king,
Gyf Alexander wist now of all þis gadering,
Here is baith lois and lordschipe for to wyn;
I rede we send ane messingere, or we blyn,
Till him to Tyre, and bid him sp[e]id him sone”,
And sade to Lyconor, “Grant me a bone,
That ȝe vauld pas, sen ȝe ar till him dere
(He traistis ȝow best, and maist gud vald here),
And bid him salff oure livis and honoure—
We may nocht stand agane sa stalwart stoure;
And we sall do our best to kepe þe pray,
Quhill þat he cum it beis nocht drevin away.”
Than answerit Lyconor, said, “God forscheild
That euer my fute ga bakwart in the feild

Quhill I haue provit anyis quho it wilbe,
That I haue blude of thame, or thai of me.”
Than callit he Philott, and till him sade
That he wauld pas, and hartlie till him prayd,
Till Alexander, and till him schaw the dout,
How þat Duke Betis was cummyin with sic a rout
That mekill war sa few with him to striffe,
Bot sum of his best men most thorne þe liffe.
Philott ansurit, “Me think that sould nocht be,
Withoutin straik þat I sould schape to fle,
And leif ȝow in the feild, my fallowis dere;
In faith, than war my woureschipe all in were—
Quhat wauld men say, I war bot ane leare,
Bot I bare sum takynnying þat I was þare.”
Than till Sansoun prayit Emenedus,
“Fare schir, sen that ȝe se ws vexit thus,
Ȝe wald haue reuth and take þis ambassade;
For [þocht] ȝe had neuer vther seruice made
Till Alexander, ȝe seruit ȝoure warisoun,
To saif his men or thai be dongin doun;
Heir cummyis the power hale of his empire
Off quhilk landis [ȝ]e sould be lorde and syre—
It is more drede of ȝow þan of the lave,
For be ȝe tane, þare may na gold ȝow save,
Quhairfore me think it settis best to ȝow
To do this message to the king as now.”
Than ansured Sansoun wys richt worthely,
Sayand, “I had lever consent þat I
Sould tyne all richtis, baith of lordschip and land,
Na leif my feris quhill I on fute may stand.”
Than callit he apoun Leonides,
The quhilk was drawand furthwart in the preis,
And till him hartfully he maid requeist
That he wauld grant to pas at his behest,
Quhilk ansur[it] schortlie, sayand, “I traist nocht
That ȝe of myne honoure sa litil roucht—
Wauld ȝe of me now mak ane messingere,
And sic ane powar on ȝow cumand here?
In faith ȝe mak na messingere of me
Quhill I haue first assayit how it wilbe.”

Syne said he, “Perdicas, my brodere dere,
Haue pitie of thir folk, I ȝow require,
For be þir folk discomfist in þis place,
King Alexander sall neuer haue blyithnes;
Had I nocht charge the chiftane for to be,
I sould nocht send na vthir man na me.”
Than ansurid Perdicas, that was hie bend,
Sayand, “Ȝour witte is no thing to commend,
To send away na man þat micht avaleȝe—
Sic ane gudman may win a hale battale,
And sempillare men mycht wele do ȝour message,
That micht nocht turne þe feild to sic damage.”
With that Caulus was grathand vp his gere,
As wourthie man sould do in tyme of were,
And till him said Emenedus, “Fare schir,
Quhat think ȝe best be done in þis myster?
Lo here our fais cumand at our hand,
And we ar few thare powar to ganestand;
We ar vndone bot we ane message gett,
To tak the pray a quhile þocht we thame lett;
Thay ar sa huge and grete of quantetie,
That at the last we mon owthir fle or de—
That war piete, þan war oure gude men loist;
Quhairfore, and ȝe vauld pas vnto the ost,
And bring with ȝow sum men to mak rescours,
Than micht ȝe save baith livis and honouris.”
Than ansurid Caulus as a man of mude,
Sayand, “I had levar ly butterand in my blude,
And all my memberis revin my body fra,
Na to consent a fute a-bak to ga—
Than war I mekill war na ane tratoure,
To leif my fallowis in to sa stalwart stoure,
And tak ane knaiffis office apoun hand,
And thai in parrell in the feild fechtand.”
Syne till Arestes efter he maid his mayn,
And to Anthiocus, to baith as ane,
Sayand that, sen King Alexander nere,
“And we be tynt for falt of messingere,
He will it repute till ws gret folie,
Quhairfor me think we suld avisitlie

Se for remede, and mak sum messingere,
And nocht in our defalt be perist here;
I meyne mare Alexander, þe nobill king,
Quhilk for oure dede sould mak sic doloring
That he sal nevir into þe erde haue ioye.”
With that Duke Betis come in sic array,
Wele mare þan [twa and thretty] thousand in a rout,
That he thame thocht til haue closit about
In sic maner that nane sould chape away;
Bot hichty men, þat pride dissavis ay,
Throw þare outrage suppois þai mony be,
Oft ar defoulit with ane few menȝie.
Thay said schortlie þai sould nevir leif the feild
Quhill hale war hors and harnes, spere and scheild—
To bring ane message in tyme of were
With hors and harnes hale, and all þare gere,
It is no takin of worthy man hardy,
Bot of herrald, or coward vnworthy.
Than till Antigonus his mane he made,
Quhil[k] till him maid schorte anser, or abaid,
Sayand, “Quhan I haue sene my blude ryn doun
Endlang my child, my cote, and my blasoun,
Than war it tyme in message for to ga,
For thai may nocht him schorne that cummys fra.”
Sa saw he lichtit ane pure locutoure,
Ane strangere, cumand to be ane sodeoure,
And till him hecht gret lordschip for to gif,
And euer to be his frynd quhill he micht liff,
To pas to Tyre and tak the charge in hand;
With that the man, quhilk was hors girdand,
Thinkand he sould strike doun ane presonere,
To mak him riche, and kepe him fro mystere,
Than said he, “Lord, I am ane pure strangere,
And to be lele I haue f[a]r mare mystere,
For and I in my newing cowart be,
Thare sall neuer man fra þis day rew on me;
I haue the kingis gold and wage tane—
God gif me grace I may heir quyte his layn;
Giff I sould in the tyme of battale fle,
Than hade he sett his gude full ill on me.”

To se quhat dule þan maid Emenedus
Quhan he the battale saw in-cumand thus,
And couth nocht gett ane messingere to send,
And to the hiest God he him commend,
His life, his honoure, and of his cumpaney,
And of [his] maister, the nobill king wourthy;
With that the teris com tigland our his face—
To here his wordis þan gret pitie was,
Sayand, “Adew, most worthy king of price,
Adew, King Alexander of Dularis,
Adew my lufe, adew quhome for I de;
Now watt I wele þow sall neuer efter me se;
I am the caus of thare distructioun,
I am the caus of þar confusioun,
For þow me bad to tak of þai menȝe
Als mony as me list to tak with me,
And, for my pride and my hie arrogance,
I did my will, and nocht þai ordinance—
Now am I caus of all the peresing
Off all this pepill, and of the nobill king.
God gif my liffe mycht succoure all the laf,
And I war dede, and depe doun in my grave;
Smal tinsale war, suppois my dede war dicht,
Bot throw me will sa mony wourthy knicht
This day or evin baith livis and guidis lorn.
Ane hard fortoun was ordand me beforin;
Allace the day that euer I armes bare.”
With that he sobbit and he sighit sare;
Than come Sansoun, and bad him mak gud chere,
And vndertuk tobe his messingere,
Bot he first wald assay to brek his spere,
That he sum takin micht till his maister bere—
Thus, of sevin hundreth knichtis þat þare war,
Thare was nocht ane to be ane messingere;
Bot soft and fare ȝit was the futemen ay
Vnto the toun of Tyre drivand the pray.

Thare was none ho—withoutin mare abaid
The duke a menȝie send before him had
On the futmen, to call agane the pray,
Bot wely men, þat oft was at the say,

Forsaw that cast, and mett þame in the front,
And wele tua hundreth speris in a [b]ront
Straik of the formest doun and the proudest,
Quhilk that to follow þe laif had no lest.
With that the duke com formest in the rout,
Ane forthy man, ane stourdy and a stout,
Till Sawsoun etlit him, for he him knew
Be his portray of armes, and the hewe,
And Sawsoun in the scheild ane straik him fest,
Quhill þat his spere al into schulderis brest;
The duke him persit vnder-neth the pape,
And throw the cors him bare, sic was his hap;
With that his seyngȝe loude on hie he cryit.
Emenedus the straik had wele espyit,
And for deseis of Sawsoun almoist swownit,
For hade he levit, he sould as king be crovnit.
“O Alexander”, he said, “full wa is the,
For wourthy Sawsoun sall þow neuer mare se;
A, gentill king, quhy slepis þow sa lang?
Bot and þow wist þai folk war in sic thrang,
Suld nevir ioy nor blyithnes licht þai hart
Quhill that thow war in cummying hiddirwart;
Now ar þow lyk to tyne al þai vantage
Off his honoure, wourschipe, and wassalage.”
Syne cum þare ane wise maister of the lawis,
Inarmit wele into the preis him drawis;
Ane proude man and ane michty lord was he—
Men callit him Saladyne of Sardaynȝhe.
Emenedus was brym as ony bare,
And with the spurris he sped him, and nocht to spare,
Gaif him ane straik of spere richt sturdely,
The trunschioun left stikand in his body.
Off Turkis thare was ane gret cumpaney,
Quhilk ay to Grekis hade fede and fellony;
Thai did euermare dispice with thame fechtand—
Thai[r] chapit nane quhome of thai had ourehand;
Bot Perdicas, and eik Leonides,
Thame counterit sa into the he[i]t and preis
That of thare chiftanis ay the proudest bad—
Gude men drawis to gretest men of haid.

Syne com ane knicht was callit Corneus,
In companey was to Artigonus,
Quhilk fellit ay the formest of the flott,
And curuit the halbirk of mony haltane cote.

Into the batale was ane knicht of prise
Was callit Gawdefer of Dularis—
He sett on Arestes to do prowes,
And he agane him schupe him sic ane dres,
Quhill baith þare speris sauraly brak in sounder—
Þocht scheild and all war persit, was na wounder;
And ay with þis Emenedus fechtand was
Aganis the proudest he saw into the preis,
That na man micht the multitude reheris
That þare was slane of Gadderis and of Pers,
For ay as þai preissit furth into þe chais,
The wourthy knichtis of Grece ay reddie was,
And ay the formest to the erde thai straik,
And gart the hyndmest ay for raddour quaik,
And ay fechtand held thame in tarying
Quhill þai sould haue sum tythingis of the king.
Than said the duke, “Gif all the men of Grew
Be sic as thir, few nomber war ynew
To conquest all þe laif of þis cuntre;
Thay ar devillis, likis na man to be.”
Emenedus tuke tent to Gaddefere,
Sa wourthy þat gouernit him in were,
That till him ane gret fauour gafe hie—
It was grett ioy apoun him for to se,
Sa wourthely and knichtly he him bare,
And derit þame mare na ony þat was þare;
And he agane commendit Emenedus—
Ȝitt ma tua fais ilkane favoure vthir thus,
And kepe þare honour and þare observance,
And to þare lord þare lawtie and allyance.
Be this Emenedus recounfort was,
And tocht to mak revangiance or he pas
For gude Sansoun, quham for his hart was sair,
And to the erd ane lord of Gadderis he bare,
And throw the cors, quhill he was dede all out;
Syne “Massedoun” þai cryit all with ane schout.

Quhan that he saw his party held the feild,
And mony wourthy man dede vnder scheild,
With that Duke Bites on him sett in haist,
And brek his spere, and kest him doun almaist;
With that the Turkis agane on thame relyid,
And thare ensenȝe of Pers and Gadderis cryid,
Of Macedoun hurt mony men and hors,
Quhill almoist all was woundit in the cors,
Thare harnes rent, and bledand wounder fast,
That ferly was quhill þai in stoure micht last.
With that come Saladins in on ane side,
Ane nobill knicht, ane man of mekill pride,
With him sevin thousand men in his battailȝie
Of tryit men, of all þare ost þe vailȝe,
And sett apoun þe douzeperis til vmbedo.

Bott as þai war ane bowschott nere cummyn to,
Sa saw þai Alexander and his ensenȝe,
Cummand anone with ane full plesand menȝhe,
The quhilk was warnit in the samyn day
Be futmen þat war drivaris of the pray;
Quhan he it hard, Lord God! quhat he was wa,
And son to cum na sudiorne wauld he may,
Bot alsa fast as hors micht bere his fete.
Bot þare was na man þat micht hald for grete,
To here the meane that Alexander maid
Quhan of þe dede of Sansoun herd he had,
And how Emenedus was woundit sare,
Na nane left hale, nouther les nor mare,
And Pirrus and Cont Sabilor war dede.
He was sa wa he wryith and schuke his hede,
The teris our his chekis tiglit doun,
That litill falȝete na he had fallin in sowun;
And as þai saw cumand þare emprioure,
Than war þai stad in to the stiffast stoure,
And in the hardest, þat þai hed bene þat day—
Forbled and fochtin, sa irkit war þai,
That [þame] behuffit on nede force þame to ȝeld,
Had nocht the king þan cummyn to the feild.
The Duke Bites, þat saw the king cumand
With sic ane ost, was vounder sare dredand;

He was the first that come in battale place,
And sone fra ane þe life he couth arrais—
Sa throw the feild he dowpit in the preis
Quhare him tocht the maist preis of fechtin was.
Than was his men sa blayth quhan þai him knew,
That ilkane of þame had a corrage new,
That sic ane was before reddy to de,
Quhilk as ane lioun stark agane was he—
It may nocht be coimptit here all þare dedis,
Bot till oure purpois alsa fer as nedis.
Within ane stound þare battellis bakkit war,
And all þare chiftanis put in gret dispare.

The duke callit Gaudefere, and till him sade,
“Off this cummying I am na thing appayed—
This is a fortuned man with his menȝe;
Thare is nocht here bot owtherane do or de.”
With that into the cietie þai gart crye
That all men sould to Duke Bites raly,
On hors and futt, þat micht a wappin bere,
And all nobillis armytt with scheild and spere;
Recomford thame, bad thame haue gud corage,
And till his nerrest frindis send message
To send him helpe, vndir gret panis strang,
Bot as I trest, þat help wil bid to lang.
Emenedus, Philot, and Lyconor,
Quhan Alexander was fechtand þame before,
Thai was liouns stark renewit agane,
Of his cummyn þai war sa wounder fane.
With that the kingis hart was bendit hie,
And sett to ane callit Calett de Nube,
And straik him, baith hors and man, to þe ground,
Quhilk, straik dede, fra the hors he couth rebound,
Syne to Thaloun, þat Duke was of Village,
And straik him doun als lichtlie as ane page—
He sett his straik with sa gret force and meane
That quha[m] he hit recoverit nocht agane;
With that his spere apoun that duke he brekis,
And till ane wther with swerde ane strake he rekis,
Hit him oure-thwort þe myddil with sic a will,
With all his force and power put þairtill,

Quhill fra the myddill vpflaw in to the feild
Baith body, helme, hawbrek, spere, and scheild—
The leggis sat in the sadill clos and fast;
With þat Duke Bites was richt sare agast.
Than Graudefere, that was ane nobill knicht,
Saw Alexander sa money to dede had dicht—
His hart encressit, and tocht to preve him anyis;
With that thai sett apoun him all attanis,
The duke, and Gaudefere, and wther tua;
The kingis spere was brokin, and him fra,
Bot Graudefere, quhilk hed ane hors of price,
Sett on the king before the Duke Bites,
And hitt the king in myddis of the scheild,
And straik him flatlingis doun into the feild,
Quhill girthis and patrall crakkit al attanis,
Betuix his leggis oure the sadill gane is,
And Gaudefere is passit by his wayis.
With that Duke Bites till his feris sayis,
“Have at him now—the king is at the erde!”
Than Bussifal sa rampit and him sterde,
With tuskis, harnyes, and fete he delt sic rowtis
That nane micht rest þat nere about þe king is,
Quhill Tholomere, Dauclyn, and eik Clissoun
With þare battalle was cumand reddie boun,
Reskewit the king and drest him in his gere,
Set him on hors, gaif him ane wther spere;
Than was the king mair egir na before,
That fall gart money ane man, þair livis lo[r]e.
The douzeperis þan gret wowis and mannance made—
Ilkane said, and þai Graudefere now hed,
Be þare godis all, he sould full dere aby;
Than Alexander smylit ane litill wy,
Said, “Ceis ȝour mannassing, and lat him pas—
He durst ȝow mete ilkane, be Godis grace,
Or ony of the wichtast of ȝour rout,
Ilkane ane cours, and serve all about;
And fand I him in parrell in ony stour,
I sould him save, his liffe and his honour;
Till haue his hert, his lufe, and his convers,
I had him levar na all þe gold in Pers;

And here I ȝow command, and all the lave,
That gif ȝe may his liffe and honour save,
That no man þis day put him to the dede,
Vnder the pane of myne euerlestand fede,
For I sett nocht all hardie man to sla,
Bot los and wourschip till all wourthy to ma,
And kepe kyndnes to wourthy men þat kynd is—
Off all my fais I think to mak my frindis.”

With þis the kingis men was cumand on,
And lowde þai cryit þe senghȝe of Macedone;
The King Bites na thing wele favorit was
With his lordis, quhilk gart þame leif þe place.
The grevis war grete, the stoure was stour and strang,
The folk of Gadderis hed bene fechtand lang,
Thai war ilk fane wauld haue bene away—
Thare micht men se gude laid on wther lay;
And quhan þai saw þat þare was na comforte,
Bot cryit, “Ossy, ossy! Amort, amort!”
(Occide, Occide! Ad mortem, ad mortem!)
Thay tuke the flicht, and fled toward þe toun,
Bot ay the douchtiest was dungin doun,
For ay the best is he[nm]est in þe flicht,
To kepe and saif þair folk with all þare micht—
In the c[h]ace the best is ay formest,
And comounly þare melis the wourthiest.
The duke was dolly þat his men war lo[r]e,
For he was nevir deforsit of before,
And evir he drew him hyndmest for to se,
And succour þame quhair mister maist saw he,
And with Gaudefere of Dularis,
Quhilk was baith hardy, worth[y] man and wise,
Ane nobill werioure in tyme of were,
And weill in tyme couth sett a strake of spere;
And till him ay Emenedus had ee—
Full money of þare gud men slane had he.
Than the Constabill of Gaderis, Ardevalle,
The quhilk was sittand on ane fare destralle,
With vtheris henmest war into the flicht—
Than Dauclyn, quhilk was wourth[y] man and wicht,

Sett on him, and his spere in feutre kest,
And hit him quhill his hawbrek all to-brest,
Quhill throw the body flatlingis to the erde
He bare him stark dede, þat he nocht sterd.
Than Tholome the duke saw draui[n] hame,
And tocht, gif he sould schape it hed bene schame,
And draw at him, and strak him of his stede,
And tuke his hors away to him to leid.
Thus Comnyer, þat saw þat all was tynt,
Schupe him to do ane proves or he stynt,
Sayand, “Adew, of þe Gaderis the honour—
This day of wourscheip thai haue tynt the flour”;
With that ane Greik he hitt vnder his blasoun,
And to the erde dede stiff he strak him doun.

With that was cumand gentill Gaudifere,
Quhilk hard that worde as he was cumand nere,
And schupe ane strak, and hit ane man of pride
Of Macedone, hit him apoun ane side,
Quhill quhyte ourethrow his cost his pannoun past,
And left the trunscheoun stikand in him fast,
And he fell doun—he micht na forther ga.
Emenedus in hart þan wounder wa
Quhan he saw sa the kingis men ga doun,
And thare famen fast fleand to þe toun,
And Gaudefere sa kepit þe reregarde
That quhair he was, the flearis had [ay] ward,
For he drew ay betuix þame and the st[ra]kis,
That money a dynt baith dalis he and takis;
For [þ]ocht we tell the dedis þat we on ruvn,
Ten thousand wourthiar dedis þare was doun
Na money ane wther þat we mak of gret feist,
Bot sum thing man we tell, be the leist.
This Gaudefere sett him the folk to kepe,
As fra the lioun gud hird wald his scheip,
And all the feild with slane men war ourspred,
And all þare folk was to the citie fled;
Apone his hede ane ladyis sleif bare he,
Quhilk was the kingis douchtir of Nube,
And in his scheild tua liounis crest of gold—

Was nevir man mare wourthy on the molde.

Thus in the chace cumand, Emenedus
Saw Gaudefere his pepill kepand thus,
And tocht on Sansoun with ane grete regrett,
And saw þat Gaudefere was dissolate,
And had bot few to helpe him in a nede,
And with his spurris his coursoure he gart spede,
And tocht that he sould nocht pas haffelles;
Than Gaudefere, þat last was in the chais,
Saw him approche, and drest him til him evin—
Thare was na helpe bot at þe God of Hevin.
Emenedus, that euer was gud and traist,
Sett him to mete, and in his gere him drest,
Bot Gaudefere him hitt in myd the scheld,
His spere in splenderis, and fell doun in the feild;
Emenedus, that saw him sum thing bare
Before the scheild, and ettillit him in þare,
And throw the breist him bare, and clave his hert,
That he spak neuer worde syne efterwart.
Than Alexander, quhilk saw the straik, him lovit,
For ioy and sorrow baith his hart removit,
Sayand, “Allace, gif I þai liffe micht save,
For ony gold or riches that I haue—
Thow art ane oure gret iowel to be tynt”,
And gart men bring him furth, or euire he stynt,
Out of the feild, to se gif he wald liffe,
Sayand, ten mulliounis he wald gif,
To haue his liffe, his hert, and his gud will—
Bot all was donn, na fourtoun was thare till.
Than ordand he to erde him honerablie,
Gart mak ane sepulture richt rich[e]ly,
In Gadderis, in a tempill of Marthus;
Bot pitie was to here Emenedus,
The reuth and the regrett þat he of him made,
And the grete sorrow þat he for him hade.
Than spak ane presoner þat was thare tane,
Quhilk was ane Cetoyre, a Gadriane,
Said Alexander baith and Emenedus
Was nocht sa wa for Sansoun and Pirrus
As Gaudifere, bot in the tyme of were

100

Thare may na man ane wther þare forbere—
The wourschip of the were, and the valoure,
Garris everie man . . . for his honour.

Quhen Gaudefere was dede, þare come attanis
Ane grete battale of new Tartarianis,
And with thame þe Almerall of Slignȝe,
Bot God wate quhat kin a rusty menȝe
Thay war, ane grete grislie cumpaney,
On sturdy steidis cumnyn out of Arabye;
Thare was richt money woundit at þe cours,
Bot at þe nede poynt þai gat ay reskours;
Philot was st[ri]kin doun, and Lyconor,
And wele reskewit, as we haue said before.
Quhan Alexander þat new battale had sene,
Till him semblit þe douzeperis all bedene,
And God wate quhatkin leveray on þai laid:
The folk of Tartary was sa affr[ey]it,
Quhan þai sa gret ane multitud had sene
Off wourthy men, ly walterand on þe grene,
Sum dede, sum woundit, in thare dedly thraw,
And all the folk to Gadderis fle þai saw,
Than said þai, “Þis is na thing wele, God wate;
Here is na bute—we man ga on oure gate.”
Sum kest þare armoure and na delay þai mak,
Sum fled and kest þare schildis on þare bak,
And ilkane eftir wther fled away—
Thus of the battale brokin was þe array.
Thay socht þe feild and helpit nakit men,
And band þare woundis as þai micht [b]est do þen;
Emenedus and Lyconor sa mekill bled
That into sowun þai fell doun in þat stede;
With that the king his handis wraist,
Sayand, “Allace, my God, in The I traist—
Now am I sikker, and I tyne þis doery,
Adew fra me the floure of wictory;
Now sall I neuer haue ioy into my hert,
And I may haue my memberis hale and quart,
Quhill I his blude se sched into þe place,
Quhilk has me reft sa ryall a riches.”

With þat the duke was into the toun inclosit,

101

And money of his menȝie þe liffe had losit,
And Gaudefere was dede, and mony maa;
Sa was þare of the kingis ost alsua,
Quhat hurt, quhat dede, a thousand knichtis kene,
In Iosaphailȝe was liand on the grene,
Quhare of before the batalle done hes bene [OMITTED]
And gart bryn[g] bottall of the balme riall,
Quhilk in a nycht wald mak all voundis hale
Off þame þat liff wald, and thame to liff war schapin,
For quhilum dede will tak sum, as will happin.
That nycht þai maid gud chere into the ost,
Thay hed ynewch, and wayndit for na coist,
And on the morne, or it was day dawin licht,
Off Bites men þame ȝeildit mony a knicht
Till Alexander, quhilk [michtie] lordis were,
Sayand, “The wourthy renovne that we here
Off þai larges, þai wourschip and fredome,
Makis ws into þai seruice for to cum;
The lordis of þis land alhalely
Thinkis all to ȝeild thame to th[y] seingȝery.”
The ost refereschit þame þare al the nicht,
And Duke Bites had semblit money a knicht,
And tocht apoun the morne þame till assailȝe,
Bot all his mycht nocht helpit him a mailȝe,
For all the maist part þat war into the toun,
To cum to Alexander was reddy bovn.
Than Alexander had gart till him ralye
Fra Tyre the sege alhale his cumpaney,
And gart put in his castell garnissoun—
He ordanid to kepe vittale fra the toun,
And left intil it wourthy men and wise,
With certane schippis ordand and devise,
And ordand alanerly þame to kepe the sey
Quhill þat agane fra Gadderis cumin war he.

Apoun the morne, als sone as day couth daw,
The tentis rais, the trumpis and bemes þai blaw;
The ost was sone arrayit in the feild,
The lordis come on all side þame to ȝeild,

102

And Alexander with gud chere þame ressett,
Grete giftis þame gaiff, and gratiously þaim grete,
And to the toun þai pas with ane accorde.
The Duke Bites saw þat þai maid þame ford,
And callit the pepill and askit thame counsale,
And with ane voce þai ansured him alhale,
The lordis of þe land and the Gadryanis,
With ane consent þai said him al attanis
That thai war nocht of power to ganestand
The michty power that thai saw cumand,
Quharefore þai wauld till Alexander annerd.
Than Duke Bites was never half [s]a ferd,
And bad all men þat luffit him follow fast,
And at ane prevy postrum out he past,
And on ane montane quhilk [the toun beside is],
He and his men thare cumpaney abidis—
Thare followit him bot few men of þe land,
Bot strangeris þat till helpe him was cumand,
Quhilk Dare had send, of Pers and of Medaynys,
Off Barbaris, Turkis, and of Tartarianis.
And quhan the king was eft com to the toun,
The lordis of þe cetie maid thame boun,
And mete the king with grete solempnitie,
Maid him fewta, and all his men tobe,
And vp thai kest the ȝettis opin wide;
The king to ressaue þai[m] vald nocht abide,
Bot in allhaist he followit on the chais
Eftir Duke Bites, quhare he fleand was,
And to the hill quhare he his folk abade.
The king drew hidder, and na tary made;
Thai saw him cum, and couth nane vther wane—
Thay tocht it best, til wther said ilkane
To gif him feild, cum efter quhat sa may,
And put þame as þai micht in gude array;
Thare was ynew to fecht for ane batalȝe,
Bot men ar tynt fra þat þare hartis falȝie.
The stoure was grete quhan þat the battaillis mete,
Quhan euery berne apoun his fallow bett,
And speris brak on scheildis þat was schene;
Quhat heriald micht the strakis all haue sene—

103

To here be coimptit mekill meruel war.
The Turkis and the Tartarianis wele þame bare,
Bot ay the duke was reddy to [the] flicht—
And he war tane, he wist his dede war dicht;
Bot þat the king providit had before:
He ordanid Tholome to pas before,
To kepe the flicht gif þat the duke vald fle,
And quhan he saw it micht na bettir be,
He strak into the stoure sa sturdely
That he was slane richt sone and haistalie,
Sayand, ane hundreth tymes he had levar de,
Na with his fais ane presonare to be;
Bot ar he deit, he did sa wourthely
That it was knawin he was a knicht hardy.
Quhan Tholomere saw him drawand abak
For till haue fled, his spere in hand he tak,
And vauld sa fane on him revengit bene
That hors and man he strake doun on the grene;
Bot he was wele reskewit haistaly—
The men of Pers defendit sturdely,
And on his hors þai drest him agane,
Gaif him his spere, quhareof he was full fane;
With that King Alexander was drawand ne—
He tocht on Sansoun quhan he couth him se.
Sa com nere by ane knicht callit Methoas,
Quhilk of the Sawdanis men ane chiftane was—
Betuix the duke he drew him and the king;
Dawclyne þat saw, draif at him in a ling,
And to the ground him bare and his destralle,
Quhill in the erde was stikand his tynralle.

The duke sat on ane stede callit Bonifasse,
That of that land ane of þe best hors was;
The king him saw, and spurrit Bussifall,
And tocht he sould nocht tyne al his trauel;
The duke [him] saw cumand, and wald nocht bide,
Bot fled in haist als fast as he micht ride.
With þat the batall of Tartarianis,
Off Persanwis, Medianis, and Barbarianis,
Ilkane of thame tuik flicht ane sindri way,
Ilkane to thare awin cuntrie ettillit þai,

104

Throw woddis and forrestis, sauf him quha micht best sauff;
Sum, levand hors and armour, tuke ane stauff,
In buskis and brais sum hid þame quhare þai micht—
The chais endurit all day quhill the nicht;
Till Alexander God sic ane fortoun send
That of the duke Bites he maid ane end,
And sic ane chais apoun his men made he,
The flicht þai followit tua dayis or thre,
Throw the wod and wattir, throw buskis and throw brais.
With that the king agane to Gadderis gais,
Ressauit the toun and conforte his menȝie;
With that the lordis hale of þat cuntre
Till Alexander þai come and maid homage,
And he, that was baith wise, wourthy, and sage,
Rewardit thame, and gaif thame giftis grete;
Syne till his chalmer past, and him retrete,
Disarmit him and maid him richt gude chere,
And with his dousperis past till his dynere,
For he had bene lang fastand all the day,
And maid gude chere, with mekill gamyn and play.
As he was sittand in his maiestie,
Sa come ane message fra his awne menȝe
That he had left to kepe the towne of Tyre,
And said Duke Balis, þat þare was lord and syre,
Had na thing left of his castell on fute,
Bot in the sey had castin, crope and rute,
And left nevir stane apoun stane standand,
And all his men left in the sey drownand,
That nane was left tythingis for to bring.
Quha was mare crabit nor the nobill king?
Gart warne þe ost, and ordand for the toun,
And on the morne he made him reddy boun
Vnto the toun of Tyre þe nerrest way,
To Duke Balis þe sege agane to lay.
Quhan Duke Balis had hard all the tithing
Off Duke Bites, and of the toun wynning,
And quho the wourthiest knichtis of King Dare
Lege men till King Alexander cumin ware,

105

He was sa dred he trymblit for raddoure,
And sare fortocht þat he had spilit the toure;
With all power þe citie purvayit he,
For he wist wele þare was bot do or de.

Quhan Alexander approchit nere the toun,
And saw that his castelle was dungin doun,
And all war lost his schippis and his men,
He made na grete semblant þat men micht ken,
To gif his men discoimfort na wanhope,
Bot suddanly past all in till ane sope
About the toun, and sone gaif it a sailȝe,
And gart ane ost stand still in plane battalȝe,
And send eftir his schippis be the sey,
Off quhilk he had ane huge quantetie—
Quhare evir he past in hosting by the land,
He had ane flot of schippis be sey cumand,
Quhilom ane thousand schippis, quhilom ma,
And quhan he wald ane gret charge vnderta, [OMITTED]
The fortoun fallowit him sa halely
That euery man plesit his cumpaney
Quhan thai hade of him knawlege and cunnyng—
Sa wele it sett him for to be ane king;
And he couth sa wele pleis his men and love,
It was delite apoun him for to gove,
For his delite was sett in all nobilles,
In wertew, honour, and in hie prowes.
He said, “Barrownis, I mak ȝow my regrate;
Me think ȝe aw me wele till hate—
Ȝe se quho I ȝow haue distroyeit and waistit,
And mony of ȝow to ȝour dede has haistit;
I pray to God he to me grace vauld send,
That I to ȝow may aynis mak ane mend.”
Thus to the toun alssone the sege he laid,
And to the assalt the banerris all displayid,
Bot all þare dede þe toun nocht dred ane myte.
The king þareat had wounder and dispite—
For ony falt or failȝe þai micht ma,
The schippis and galais come ay to and fra,
Brocht newis and wictuallis to the toun of Tyre,

106

With all conforte fra Dare and his empire,
And all þat þai wauld mak apoun ane day,
Within ane houre the watteir bare away.

Sone eftir this, within ane day or tua,
The flott of schippis come in gude array,
Thre thousand schippis, bargis and galyis;
With that the king behaldis and thame seis,
And callit patrouns and maisteris of the flote,
And thai straik sale, send furth a galiote;
The patroun come, and with the king concrabit,
And ane thing nedelingis grant him hie behufit,
That of the schippis he wald ane quantetie
Consent to bore and drowin into the sey
In myddis the hevin, quhare schippis to the toun
Was ay cumand with þare prouisioun.
Than ordand þai, þai sould tak of the place
Apoun the roche, quhare are the castell was,
And fill ane hundreth schippis ful of stanis
Into the hevin, and synk thame all attanis,
Sa that þai sould cum nevir into the toun,
Schip or galay, to bring prouisioun;
Syne to the land þai fillit all the dykis,
And stoppit all þe passage and the sykis,
And held in bandoun all the hale cuntre,
That na refuge mycht cum, be land or se,
And ordanid þa[r] ane staff of grete larges,
Off wele ane hundreth faddum, and na les,
And maid on it ane somer-castell stout,
Quhare wele ane thousand men micht fecht in rout;
And quhan þat i[t] was full and he at all,
Thay brocht the staff, wele garnist, to þe wall,
And sett the staff quhare þat the benfrey was,
Quhilk was þe gretest [tour] of all the place,
And ankerit it with irin chenȝeis doun;
It was hiear na wale was of the toun,
And quhan the men war sett in it fechtand,
Apoun the toure faucht with þame hand for hand,
And quhan the sey rais, and the tyde and houre,
The staff was hyare na the hiest toure,
And in that hiest toure Duke Ballas was,

107

For it was the moist strenth of the place.

The havin was clois, þe sege was be þe land,
And Alexander was ay assailȝeand,
Bot quhan he hard the duke was in the toure,
Fornent the somer-castell in the stoure,
He wauld nocht ceis quhill he sould him assalȝe—
He vald all thing haue provit, sett or faleȝe,
And in þe somer-castell pas he wald,
To pruffe his fortoun—þare micht no man him hald.
Than ordand he ane drawbrig for to fall
Out fra the somer-castell on the wall:
On every side ane ryall quhile he suld be
Apoun the wall or ony man micht se.
Into the nycht he maid þis ordanying,
And on the morne sone, be þe day dawing,
Out of the somer-castell he was gane,
Apoun the bowfray toure him all alane;
The duke him saw, and wist wele hie was fa,
And of þe toure he lett ane springald ga,
And brek his scheild, and all to picis thrussit,
And of þe toure with þat on him he brussit,
And tocht to cleve him all his body doun,
Bot Alexander him hitt apoun the croun,
And cleve him quhill the hawbrek held agane,
And oure the toure he kest him in the plane,
Towart the toun, amange his awne menȝe.
Bot lord! quhat harrow was in þat ciete,
Quhan, in the starkest toure in all þare place,
Thare lord was slane, þare toun discoimfist was.
Than was nocht ellis bot quha mycht fle and go,
To tempillis and to tavernis, to and fro;
Syne fro the somer-castell sone coim þai,
Ane thousand men armit in gud array—
With thame þai brocht his banner and pynoun,
And sett it vp, and sesit the dungeoun,
Syne doun þai passit, and rasit vp the ȝettis
(Thai fand na man þat in thare way þam lettis),
And in thare come the floure of Massedone,
And all the toun þai spuleȝete vp and doun,
Bot þare was gret fechting or þai had done—

108

The skry rais, the cietie semblit sone,
And in ane gret plane of ane markate place,
Or it was none, ane batall strikin was,
That money a man come þare to þare ending,
For cokkis ar all-wayis cant on þare mydding;
The douzeperis did sa douchtely þat day
That of þe toun hale masteris sone war þai,
And furthwith þai dispuleȝeit all the toun,
And mynyth the wallis of þe gret dungeoun;
Thay slew that þai wald sla, and flemyt þe laif—
Thare was bot few of men that thai wald saif;
Thay fyrit the toun, and brak doun all the wallis,
The fare pallais, the chalmeris, and the hallis,
Quhil[l] þare was left na hous þare habitabill,
Sa mekill as to putt ane hors in ane stabill.
The Prince of Pinsoun in the place was dede,
And all his heris, and burges of þe stede;
Gif ony chapit by wattir or wod away,
Full few of men was savit as þat day,
In vengeance of the castell brokin doun.
All þis of Tyre distroȝeit was the toun,
Bot he held still Gadderis in till his hand,
Quhill he sould fewta haue of all þat land.

Than that that brak away fra þis melle
Thay past to King Dare, baith be land and se,
And tauld him all the maner of this thing,
Quhareof King Dare had mekill mervelling,
And quho his lordis quhilk he mast [traist] in had
Manrent and fewta till King Alexander had made,
And quho the land, bot gif he mak defence,
Wald turin all hale to his obediance.
Than sperit King Dare of his conditioun,
His luke, his maneris, feris, and fassoun,
And þan þai schew him into perfite payntoure
All hale his fassoun and his portratoure,
His lenth, his braid, his wissage, and [co]llour,
Perfitely payntit eftir his stature.
And quhan King Dare had sene his quantetie,
Sa litill of stature and of mak was he,
He angirrit and he rampit for dispite,

109

And with him-selff began to chide and flite,
And tocht that he sould fecht with him a day,
Bor man for man, com eftir quhat sa may,
And coimptit [him] bot as ane barne or page,
He was sa litill of stature and parage,
And send till him ane message haistalie
With certane barnis playokis scornandly,
That was to say a gol[f]-staff and ane ball,
And ane scurge-stik to drife ane top withall;
With that ane chaplet of gold and perreye
Like till ane mytir, in takin of folly,
And as in sindrie contrie barnis vsis
Till were myterris in clerk playis and gysis.
And ane pestill he send with messingeris,
In forme and maner as contenit heir is:

“Dare, king of kings and lord of lordis all,
Cousing of goddis and to the son with-all—
Blithis þe warld with brichtnes of his bemes,
Sa my lordschip oure vther lordschip lemes,
For all the goddis of Pers with ane accorde
Ar consentand oure all me to be lord—
Till Alexander, my sugett and seruand:
How dar ȝe tak sa grete thing apoun hand
To cum into my land but my gude levis,
With sic ane menȝe of revaris and of thevis
To mak me were, sen all thi eldaris war
My legis men, and tribute pait to Dare?
I haue hard how ȝow cumyis towart me
With money revearis and thevis sic as the,
And slais my men, herreis and stroyeis my landis.
I marvell quhat be þis thow vnderstandis,
Bot þai vaneglore and folie garris the,
As wantones oft movis ane barne to be,
And for ane multitude of ȝoung revaris,
Off thevis and murtheraris þat na man sparis,
Giffis the swetenes, entre, and withgang,
Quhilk ȝow may traist will nocht be lestand lang.
Suppois þow micht of þis warld þe lave
In thai seruice and in thai battale haue,
To thame of Pers ȝit micht þai be na pere;

110

Tharefore I rede þat þow draw the arere,
And to thai dame thow pas in þi cuntrie,
With barnis to play, and lat the were-fare be,
For men of Pers ma no mare nowmerit be
Na sternis in lift, nor sandis into the se.
Tharefore I send the here a playing ball,
And ane golf-staff to driff the ball withall,
As barnis dois in cieteis for to play,
And counsales the that þow pas hame þai way,
And sulk ane quhile apoun þai moderis kne,
Quhill bettir starkyn for the were þow be.
With that ane scurge to drive ane top also,
For barnis sayis it will the glader go;
A chaiplet als here I of gold þe send,
Like till ane myter, þat foly sould pretend,
In barnis plais or into desgysing—
It settis the bettir na counterfete ane king.
I send the ball for it betakynnys play,
Sa dois the staff þat wissis it þe way;
The scourge betakynnys chastiment to the,
That as ane barne þat þow mot chastyit be;
The myter als is takynnyng of folie
Thow hes done in þi barnehede wantonlye;
The gold betakynnys riches to habound,
For vnder the hevin þare is na richer ground,
And becaus þow art of ane pure cuntrie,
I gert it mak of gold to send to the.
Giff þow dois nocht my bidding haistalie,
I sall gar the be punyst creuely,
Nocht as a kingis sone of Massedone,
Bot as a prince of reiffaris and patrone.”

The message to King Alexander ar sent,
And schawin him þare epistill and present,
And he resavit all in gude patience,
For he was sobyr in wisdome and prudence;
Gart call his lordis and schaw þame the maner,
And gart the epistill be rede, þat thai micht here.
At quhilk thai had grete indignatioun
That he sould send in sic derisioun,
And sum begane to mak grete bost and vow;

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Bot Alexander said, “Lordingis, move nocht ȝow—
This epistille pleisis mare to myne intent
Than ony vther that euer to me was sent.
Ȝe wat wele þat þe dog that barkis maist
Leist bitis, and grete langage spendis in waist;
Quhare mekill speich alsa, it may nocht be
Bot sum is soith and wordis sum fals wilbe;
And ȝe here oft þat voustouris and vantouris
Ar nocht the first to wyn þe grete honouris.
As of the gold, I traist wele soith he sayis,
Quhilk ws to feche mair hardy curage mais—
Grete wain wyn war foly and symplines,
To conquest landis quhare þare war na riches.”

The king gart tak the messingeris in haist,
And in ane dipe dungeoun he bad thame kest,
And on the morne, bot ony more delay,
That on ane gallous hingit hie war thai.
Bot thai excusand thame in thare defence,
Said, “We haue grete mervell of þai excellence,
Sa nobill ane king pure messingeris to sla.
Ane grete lak wald it vnto thyne honoure ma,
For messingeris ar fre message for to bere,
And frelie cum and gang in pece and were—
Giff þow slais ws in þai furoure and rage,
Thare will never man eftirwart bring ane message;
For all we bring ane soure message the to,
Sa will we fra þe till oure maister do—
Quhidder he be blyith or wraith we rak no thing,
Oure office is message to bere and bring.”
The king said, “Now ȝe speik me gude ressoun,
Bot sen of thevis he gevis me renovn,
I do my dett as theif ȝow for to sla;
Bot war I gude man, I sould lat ȝow ga.
Bot sen ȝe will my ansure bere agane,
Ȝe sall for me nowder thole dede nor pane.”
Than ditit he ane pistill into writt,
Off quhilk him-selff was devisare of it,
And Arestotill it wrate with his awne hand,
Off quhilk the tennoure is nixt followand.

“Alexander, King Philippis son þat was,

112

And son also to Quene Olimpias,
To Dare, quhilk callis him king of kingis all,
And lord of lordis þat hes bene, is, or sall,
Cosing to god, schynand as sonnys beme,
Quhilk oure all wther lordis gevis a leme,
Emprioure of quham all sould love and lout:
I haue mervell þat sic a man sould dout
Sa pure a man as Alexander þe ȝing,
Throw Godis grace a sely sempill king.
It is grete [lak] to erdlie man mortale
Him to assymyll to Hevin parpetuall,
To son or mone quhilk schynis oure þe lave,
And everie day raddoure of me till haue;
Quhilk for thai pride and thyne iniquite
I think richt sone to cum and speik with the,
For goddis has grantit me thy punyssing,
And ordand me in þai stede tobe king—
For all þai micht and all þai gret menȝe,
I sall cum anis and battale proffer the.
It is bot lak to thyne auctoretie
For till ourethraw sa pure a man as me;
And sen þow me ane theiff and revare callis,
To wyn ane theiff small honour the befallis,
And gif I wyn sa hie ane emprioure,
Than mycht I wyn riches, with grete honoure.
As to the nowmber of gold þow sayis þow has,
Mair curagious and hardy þow w[s] mais—
It war grete folie to ane pure sembill king
To conques landis quhare war na wynying,
Nor sege ane cietie quhare no gud is thairin,
Na fecht with men quhare no gude is to wyn;
Quharefore oure pouerte that thow sais we haue,
With grace of God þow sall supple þe laif.
And as belanging to thir similitudis
Thow hes me send, the quhilk baith fare and gude is,
As to the ball, þe O may liknyt be,
Quhilk is baith sound and round in all degrie,
Off quhilk thow sayis hale emprioure þow was,
And be the ball resignit to me thow has;

113

And of the crukit staff to cache þe ball,
That is the staff I mon the kepe withall,
And as it is crukit and bowand, sa sall þow
And all thai barnage vnto my bidding bow,
And as the ball it cachis to and fra,
Sa sall ȝe at my bidding cum and ga;
And as the scourge betakynnys chaistiment,
Sa ȝow to me alhale the iugment
Off the and vtheris quhare þow was lord and king
Thow hes resignit to me þare punyssing.
As to the mytir, quhilk fullis chaplet þow callis,
Sen land and lordschip grantit to me all is,
It may betakin þe crovne þow sendis to me,
Baith king and lord of þe and þine tobe;
And alsa, as the gold tribute pretendis,
Eftir the crovne þe tribute þow me sendis,
Off quhilk I thank the as the tane requiris—
Thow sall revardit be as [þe] efferis.
And gif þow sais þow sendis it in scornying,
That is displesand to the hiest King,
For God will ay that scornit be scornoure,
And to wertew and wisdome dois honoure,
And quha him pridis and glorifeis maist hie,
It is the will of God he lawit be.”
With that, grete gold he to the mess[age] gaif,
And thai blyithly the epistill couth ressaif,
And at the king þare levis þai haue tane,
And to the King Dare þair maister þai haue gane.
Than Alexander dislugit sone in haist,
And inwart towart Ierusalem is he past,
And on ane ryvare that callit is Gartitus
He lugit his ost, the story tellis ws thus.
And to the King Dare now will we turin agane,
To here of this ansure how he was fane.

Quhen Dare had hard the ansure of the king,
And quho that he amovit him no thing,
Bot sobirlie till all thing made ansurre,
And sperrit of all his governance and affere—
The message tauld him of his sobirnes,
And he in all thing wele temperit was,

114

And wise and wourthy in his governying,
And sett him wounder wele tobe a king.
With that King Dare rampit as a lioun
Quhan he thame herd gif him sa hie renovne,
And of the epistill ȝitt mare wod he was—
His ene sa brynt þat fyre flaw of his face.
And furth-with to the Prince of Anchioche
He sendis ane epistill power for to feche;
Bot or he come, the land was all ouregane,
And all the princis power slane or tane,
That him had mare mister to ask amend
Na of his partie power till him send,
For all was put in the obeysaunce
Of Alexander, and at his governance.
The epistille was in this maner maid
To send to Ancheoch he ordand had,
And syne delyuerit it to the messingere,
In maner and forme as is writtin here.

“Dare king of kingis, as we haue sad before,
With all the vant, voust and the vaneglore,
Till Anthioch, till princis and primatis,
Till satrapiȝ, counsallaris, and all estatis,
Greting as ganis, with grece of grete Mahovn,
We haue consauit be soith relatioun
Thatt Alexander, the sone of Macedone,
With vther thevis sic folie settis him on,
Quhilk in his pride and wantones sa wedis,
With grete powar of thevis with him ledis,
And in the landis of Asie, quhilkis haldis of ws,
With sic ane route of reiffaris riotus,
He plais þe larde and herreis al my landis.
Quharefore I wald that ȝe throw strenth of handis
Tuke him, and furthwith send him vnto me,
To punnys him as theif suld punnyst be,
Or ding him with ane wand and send him hame
To play amang the barnis with his dame,
Cled as ane fule in-till ane purpure cote,
For it semys nocht till sic ane knewech sote
To conterfete a kingis maiestie,
Bot as ane barne in tutele for to be;

115

And send him thus til Olimphyne the quene,
To play with vther barnis on the grene.”

Quhan this epistille resauit was and rede
Before the lordis, þai the message led,
And tuke to counsale quhat was best to say.
To write agane ane epistill ordanid þai,
Till Dare, quhilk was sum tyme þare maister dere,
Quhilk followis efter, and sayis on þis maner:

“Of Anthioche þe Prince Anthiothus
Till Dare all-weildand ansure sendis thus:
Plesis it to ȝoure mychty magnificence,
As langand Alexander and his offence,
Quhilk ȝe call theif, revare, and a child,
He fechtis as worthy prince in batal-feild,
And quhare he gais, he hes honour and glore,
And in cuntreis withgang and victor.
He hes ws put in sic subiectioun,
Oure princis slane, and waistit oure regioun,
And all ouresett, that few chapis him fra,
That thai mon vow and fewta til him ma,
Or ellis tobe distroȝed vtirly.
We mak this knawin to þai seynȝeorie,
And quhare thow ws commandis him to ta,
Suppois þow ware ane hundreth thousand ma,
Thow would haue mekill ado him till areist,
Him till ouresett sa money a man has preist,
And ay he hes grete fortoun and ourehand—
He has sic hap he conqueris all þe land.
We haue mare myster helpe at the to craif,
For helpe of ws as now þow may nane haue.
As to that thow callis him fule and theif,
He is haldin here for maist wourthy and cheif,
And all men dois him wourschip and honoure,
And haldis him wise, and man of grete valoure.
He has conquest þis cuntrie, toure and toun,
To Tyre and Gaderis, and castin þame baith doun,
And money vtheris citeis by the sey,
And settis him al halely to cum to the.
Quharefore gif thow will send him to fech[e],
Thow sall nocht nede to send to Anthioche,

116

For gif that it be socht I hard him say,
He thinkis to cum to Pers the narrest way.”

Quhen Alexander in this wise had conquest
The landis and the lordschippis of þe west
And of the south and of the north cuntrie,
Off Egipt, Tyre, and Sydome by the sey,
Off Ierusalem þan he him bethocht,
And farrare est in conquest wald he nocht
Quhill he of Ierusalem had obedience.
To quhom King Dare send letteris of defence,
Vnder all panis of dede and forefettoure,
That thai sould nocht mak to him vantoure,
Homage, entrie, or obeydiance,
Sen þai till him had aith of alliaunce.
Than Alexander send his ambassitouris
Till Ierusalem and to the senatouris,
To the bischope and to the lordis all,
And bad thame be avisit in generale,
And that þai sone sic ansure till him sent
That þame nocht nedit efterwart repent.
Than all the lordis and the senatouris,
The bischope, clergy, and the counsollouris,
Thai semblit all into ane parliament,
Till Alexander quhat ansure þai sould sent;
And in the counsale þai maid ordanyng
That all the pepill in pryar and fasting
Suld be in tempill evere contenwallie
Quhill thre dayis war passit vterly,
To God to send thame grace and wittering
Quhat best war to be done into þat thing.
Than in the nycht eftir the sacrafeice,
Quhan that the bischope doin had his office,
The God inmortale send him ane angell,
And ordanid him the senatouris to tell
How thai sould do, and into quhat maner,
Quhan þai saw Alexander approcheand nere;
To say the pepill that thai be nocht affrayit—
Off thare deuotioun he war wele appayed.
And bad him gar the pepill mak þame boun,
Cast vp thare ȝettis and wele armoure þare toun,

117

And cleith the pepill in syndone habit quhite,
The bischope and the preistis in þare habite:
“In quhite surplis gar all the pepill ga,
In cappis and abbus men of kirk alsua;
And þow bischope in þi pontificall,
In claithis of gold, with mytir and sindale;
And quhan ȝe se him cumand nere the toun,
Ȝe mete him all with hale processioun,
With reliquis bare, and with devine honouris,
With kirkmen, comownis, and with senatouris,
And with reuerance ressaue him hartfully.”

With that the bischope walkynnyt haistalie,
And talld the counsalaris and princis of þe toun
Alhale the forme of his avisioun,
Sayand, “I wate weill þis is Goddis will;”
And þai but mare accordit weill þaretill,
And ordand thame into thare best maner.
And quhan thai saw that he was cumand nere,
The bischope was in his pontificall,
The pepill in syndone quhite, baith gret and small;
The bischope had his mytir and his sindar,
And on the goldin myter wrettin war
In goldin letters that everie man mycht se,
In Ebrew langage of the selff cuntre,
The name of the gret God Tetragrammaton,
Quhilk Alexander quhan he luikit on
Had grete mervell þat sicht quhan he couth se;
And tocht before to haue segit the cietie,
And quhan he saw the men of kirk cum sua,
And all the pepill honoure till him to ma,
He wist it was ane gift of Goddis grace,
And lichtit doun furthwith into the place,
With heid vnheild, and grouf on kneis he fell,
For till his harte com neuer sic ane knell,
Sayand, “The name of God mot blissit be,
That þus into þis wardlit had wourschipit me.”
To the bischope he did grete reverence,
And he till him made his obediance,
Sa did the lordis and comons hartfuly,
And oppynnyt vp thare ȝettis halely.

118

He enterit in the toun with all his rout—
With that the pepill all cryeit with ane schout,
“Lestand [m]ot be of Alexander the regnne,
Quhome God hes send ws for to be our king!”
Than spak ane prince was callit Permanoun,
Sayand, “This thing is that I mervell on,
That þow suld schow sa grete humyletie
Till erdlie man sa mekill to law the,
Nor king nor prince in the wardlit sa wyde.”
The king ansurid, “Fare schir, latt be þai pride—
It was na erthlie man þat I here saw,
To quhom I lichtit doun and lowtit law,
To quham the name of hieast God I se,
Cumand with clergie forto honoure me;
It war ressoun that I schew Him meiknace,
That did to me sic wourschip and sic grace.”

Syne [fiftene] dayis he restit in the toun
In sacrefice and in devotioun,
And ordand thame lawis and gaif þame priuilegis,
With giftis grete, as oure storie allegis,
And to [him] the bischope said in this maner,
“I saw all this lang tyme or [ȝe] come here,
The quhilk in visioun was to me revelit,
Ane prophecy that I haue lang time helit,
Quhilk in his dayis writtin has Ieremye,
And haldin as his soithfast prophecy,
That tyme sould cum þat Grace and Macedone
Suld put all Pers in þare subiectioun;
Baith Asie and Europe and Affrik to the se,
To Paradise all conquest hale suld be.
Quharefore, schir king, we trest God ordand ȝow
To chaisty wikkit men that regnis now;
Tharefore, gif ȝe will that ȝoure fortoun stand,
Liff clene, kepe law, and hald ȝoure God in hand—
Thare may no gudlie thing but Him be done;
Quha luffis Him nocht, He will thame law full sone.”
Than askit þai sevin ȝere in fredome liff,
And that sic preuilege he wald to thame gif,
Till Yude, Galile, and Babilone,

119

In sic fredome as he helde Macedone.
He grantit all þare plesance and asking,
Till leve at eis, fredome, and liking,
And of the toun cheif gouerance he makis
Ane nobill knicht callit Andronyakis.
And thus with eis quhan he hed restit þare,
The narrest way he tuik towart King Dare,
And to the goddis made he sacrefice;
Syne of his weris ordand his devise,
And past with ost to Peirs the nerrest way,
For he hed hecht he wald nocht mak delay.
And as in hosting he was passand þus,
Sa come he to the wattir of Gartitus,
And past the ryver on the morne erlie.
The tything past to King Dare haistalie,
Quhilk till him send ane epistill in þis maner,
That efter cummis in wrett as ȝe may here:

“Dare, king of kingis and oure all emprioure,
And lord of all this warld, baith toun and toure,
Cosing to God, schynand as sonnys beme,
Quhilk with the goddis of Pers gevis lycht and leme,
Till Alexander, the litill provit theif,
Quhilk hes my landis put to all myscheif,
Slayand my men, my cieteis castand doun,
And puttis my landis to grete distructioun—
And I haue oft tymes epistillis writtin the till,
Of sic folyis to ceis, bot þow na will.
Thow suld weill knaw þat we tua ar na peris,
Na ȝitt the goddis made ws nevir feris,
For all this warld lovis þe name of Dare,
And wi[th] the goddis anornit is oure alquhare—
To the it war grette honoure and renovne
To hald of me the realme of Macedone,
Bot þow thinkis the ane grete prince of powaris,
To hald with the ane flok of fals reiffaris,
And pas oure montanis, riveris, and wallis,
Slayand and birnand, as men seis.
It war bettir my consalle that þow trowit—
And with thai moder suld be fare mare allowit—
To ceis or sum punytioun fal the to:

120

Thare nedis bot ane day the till vndo.
And ȝitt I counsale the to pas thai way,
And liff besyde þai moder as þow may,
Before that of my handis þow tak skaith—
And þow wald mend, to sla the me war laith.
Thow watte þat of all this erde I am syre,
And thow hes waistit Antioche and Tyre,
And mony vther landis þat langis me—
My counsale is my presence that thow fle.
Thow suld be blaith þat I sould me dedenȝe
To writte the epistillis vnder my ensenȝe,
Wittand sa grete ane emprioure am I
That all the warld obeyis my senȝeorie.
And als be figure þow may vnderstand
That þare is pepill but nowmer in my land,
Off chesboll seid ane sekful I the send,
Of quhilk the nommer hard is to be kend,
And as þe seid may nocht comptit be,
Richt sa may nocht þe pepill of þis cuntrie;
Alsua, sa þat þow witt the soith and veretie,
Quhat myndis of gold þare growis is þis cuntrie,
Of gold I send the here ane wther sek,
In passing hame þai costis for to mak.
And of þai folyeis done þow repent þe,
And schaip the neuer agane in this cuntre.”

Till Alexander ar cumynn the messingeris,
Quhilk with honoure resauit þame, as efferis;
And quhan the epistill red was, he gart schaw
The seid, and of it in his mouth couth chaw,
And fand it soft, and said, “Gif ȝoure men be
Sa soft and swete þat wonnyis in ȝoure cuntre,
Thay may be sone oure-cummyn in batall place—
Erast sall tyne quha monyast of þame has;
In gude array money men is fare off fere;
Few liounis will of schepe grete nowmer sker,
And eik the scheiphird may be stout and bald
That mony fatt scheip has in-till his fald;
As to mete þai ar gude quhare-euer he foundis,
Bot few wald gar þame fle of gud grewhoundis.
As langand the gold that he me sendis,

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That is trewage quhilk to me he pretendis,
Suppois he send it nocht in þat entent.
He watt full litil quhat þat þir goddis ment,
For his fegoure schawis here to me
That of his menȝie lord hale I salbe;
And als the ball he send to me ane singe is
Of all this that he to me resignis,
Be sindrie thingis that he hes send to me,
Quhilkis takin ar þat I his lord salbe.”
And with that he tuke of piper in his neif,
And with his hand it to the messingeris geif,
And bad thame say that was of wertew mare
Na all the seid that in the sek he bare,
“And this gold that he hes send me here is,
I will [d]epart amange ȝow messingeris.”
And in a epistill wrete all this langage,
Amd send it hame agane with his message,
And bald him think nocht lang quhil he him saw,
For of his mannance stude he na thing aw.

Be that the epistill wrettin and ordand was,
Thare come lettiris fra Quene Olimphias,
That scho was seik and in perrill to de,
And prayeit the king haist him hame hir to se,
Quhilk come he nocht, he suld traist no remede—
Scho was sa seik þare was no dome bot dede.
Than was he wa, and changit his purpois—
Bettir his delay na his moder to lois—
Schupe him with all the haist þat euer he may
To Grece and Macedone the narrest way,
And bad the messingeris say to King Dare
That, all suppois he changit purpois þare,
He did it nocht for drede of him to fle,
Bot for to vesie his lady moder frie,
Quhilk was in bandis of seiknes lokit fast—
Bot gif he come, he dred scho suld nocht last—
Bad him be blayth and think nocht lang, for he
Within schort tyme tocht him agane to se,
“And that I pas nocht hir swete pappis to kis,
Bot for scho in a deidlie seiknes is,
To comforte hir, as sone suld for to do,

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As gude nature and kynd drawis to.”
And in ane vther epistill wrate this that here is,
And send it to him with his messingeris.

Fra thyne the trumpeis blew, þe ost vp rais,
And in till Asie Mynor þe way he tais,
And conquest it in passand halely,
And oure all quhare he past had victory,
With mony ane place and money a grete citie,
That may nocht all be put in þis tretye,
Bot alanerlie þe grete battall and stouris [OMITTED]
Syne to the landis of Frygie and Pamphale,
With mony ane ciete and wallit toun worthy;
Syne till ane citie was callit Gordioun,
Quhilk now is callit Serdaignȝe, þai sett apoun;
Thay kest it doun and stroyit it at vterance.
Nere by þare was the tempill of þe Son,
And thare he gart sacrefice be done;
And efter that he come in-till ane place
Quhare the wise doctoure Omere erdit was,
And þare spak with ane philosophoure,
Quhilk Diomede was callit, of gret honoure,
Apoun ane revere quhilk Scamandrus is cald.
Thare herbryit he and all his bernis bald;
Than Alexander commendit Omere sa,
And till him Diomede grete tent couth ta,
Said, “Alexander, þow sould be blayth and glaid—
Thow hade mare los þan euer Omere had.”
Than Alexander said, “Schir, sauf ȝoure honoure,
Wisdome is bettir na fortoun of victor[ure]—
I had levare be als wise as Omere was
Na strenth of baith Hectoure and Hercules.”
Than was he cumyin nere to his cuntrie,
Bot litill mare he had na ane iournee;
He logit his ost endlang þe ryvare doun,
And till his moder past to Macedone.
Quhan scho hard Alexander was cumand nere,
Than satt scho vp, said scho was hale and fere.

Bott lord! quhat ioy was made into þat place
Quhan Alexander in hele þare cummyn was,

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And als the quene was helit of hir seiknes—
Thare was no tocht of na thing bot of blythnes.
Quhan he had playit him with his modere dere,
As him best tocht, and maid him richt gud chere,
Than he removit his oist, and tuke the way
Towart Thebes, and on ane ryver lay.
And send to thame of Thebes ane messingere,
Quhilk of þare ansure efter ȝe may here,
And askit thame þat þai wald till him send
Fifty knichtis in oist with him to wend,
On thare wagis buskit and armit wele.
And thai togidder passit to counsale,
And closit þare portis, and wald nane ansure gif,
Quhareat King Alexander can him sum thing greif.
Than Alexander has gart his oist remufe,
And by þe toun hes lugit him nere abufe;
And quhan þai saw the kingis oist cumand,
Apoun thare walle fyffe thousand men ordand,
And to the king thai said, be Goddis pyne,
Thai sould with him fecht bot he past fra thyne.
And he smylit, and said he had nocht sene
Bott few mychtie men þat of þare feris bene,
To stand of fer and say that þat vauld fecht,
And hald þare portis clois baith day and nicht;
“Ȝe think ȝow stark quhan ȝe ar all þarein,
And for ȝoure wallis wenys nane will ȝow wyn;
Bot treulie, I sall nocht pas fra þis toun
Quhill ȝe be dede and all ȝoure wallis [dung doun],
Bot gif ȝe ȝeild þe toun with ȝoure gud will.”
With that ane menȝie gart he ga þame till,
To gif ane salt, sayand thai war bot churlis,
And the harnes to the wallis hurlis;
And sum with mattokis began for to myne,
Sum schott with gunnys, and sum with ingyne,
Sum vther with coluerynnis and with crapaldynis,
And wther sum was fechtand in þe mynys,
And sum maid fyre als hie as all the wallis,
And þis the toun segit about at all is;
Sum kest with gynis dede hors in the cietie,

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Sum small stanis, þat nane fra þame micht fle,
Sum with slingis, and sum with crawykynnis,
With vtheris mony maneris of ingynis,
With sum fire-arrowis, with stanis of irne rede-hate,
Schote out of gunnys to birne quhare-ever þai bate;
Sum sett to sowis for to saue þe mynouris,
Sum with bumbardis straik doun the hiest touris,
And or the greis of þare assalt wald stent,
Bot portis and port-culys, all was brynt,
And mony of þe Grekis in þe toun.
With that the bourgath oure þe wallis lap doun—
Sum brak þare leggis, sum banis, and sum armys,
Sum bowellis breist, with money vther harmys;
And in this maner takin was þe toun,
Destroyeit and brint, and wallis cassin doun.

Than Alexander passit to ane vther place
Was next þareby, callit Corintheus,
And till ane citie callit was Platea,
In tempill of Diane sacrefice to ma;
That þare was ane nun, callit a woman preist,
Was in recluse, and vp the portis kest,
Said, “Alexander, þow art welcum, watte I wele,
For be[þe] goddis I haue had sic ane fele
That of this warld þow salbe lord and schyre,
All halely bowand to thyne empire.”
Thare maid he [h]is deuotioun in þat place,
And to the tempill gaif giftis and riches.
Thare was ane prince was callit Transagoras,
Till Alexander na thing weill-willand was—
Quhan he hard that the nvn him sa had tald,
He said hir fleiching suld be dere asauld,
And that scho suld repent of þat thing,
Quhen nocht suld helpe hir Alexander the king;
And to the tempill he come, and prayer made,
And sperit of his fortoun and princehede;
And scho ansurit and said him suthfastlie
Till all the goddis war purposit halely
Him to depone, and mak ane vther king.
Than Alexander, quhilk haistyit him na thing,

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Sa he wauld be to him obedient,
And offerit him till his commandiment,
Send eftir him till mak obedience;
Bot he wauld nocht, bot schupe to mak defence.
Than Alexander sett him þe toun to ta,
And maid no lang delay quhill he did sa,
And put him out, and bannist him the land—
It fell him fare he chapit fra his hand—
And left keparis into Coryntheas,
Ane nobill ciete into þai tymes was.
All þus Transagoras with his menȝie
Fled till Athenis, þat nobill citie,
Off quham he held, and to thame was sugget.
Thay welcummyt him, and in þare toun secrete,
And in Athenis he gart lordis spak
Of Alexander, and put him ay to lak;
Off quhilk the king was richt hielie displesit,
And till Athenis all the cuntrie sesit;
And syne to thame he send his messingeris,
And fare and curtesly he thame requiris
Off helpe, fauoure, conforte, and counsale,
And he sould kepe þare landis fra tinsalle.
With that ane epistill suetely to þame sendis,
And his wourschip gudely to þame commendis.
Thai war displesit for Transagoras,
Quhilk gart þat toun þat it more favorit was;

Off quhilk pistill the tennoure followis here,
As I couth fi[nd] dytit in þis maner:
“Alexander, King Philippis sonn þat was,
And sone alsa to Quene Olympias,
Till Athenis the maist worthy cietie,
And to the pepill sendis greting he,
And the princis, lordis, and senatouris,
With encressing of wourschip and honouris,
And to the clerkis his faderis ware of lare,
For he lang tyme at scholis had bene þare:
Witt ȝe that sen my fader was deceissit,
Gude men to pleis at my powar I preissit,
And weikkit men and ill sett to chaisty—
The goddis þus me chargit has, treuly—

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Quhilkis wrangwus trewagis of þe pepill takis,
And takis of þame, and na gude causis makis,
Na kepis thame nocht in law, na heris þame,
Bot haldis at vnder for lak and schame;
And for to kepe iustice and equitie,
Gar law with laute regne with honestie,
And till a king gar obey all the law;
For mony kingis ar nocht spedeful to haue,
For sindrie princis drawis a severale part,
And thare opiniownis ar nocht ay towart,
Quhilkis haldis the landis in devisioun,
And putis realmes in dissentioun.
And quhan a king obeyit is halely,
Than na man wrang vther throw maistry—
For þis is Goddis will in maiestie,
Quhilkis governis all þis warldit in vnetie.
And I haue bene into þe west cuntrie,
And sum part in the south and north part[ie],
And in the est cuntrie now mon I draw,
To punnys thame þat kepis nocht the law.
Quharefore I pray ȝow to send me of ȝouris,
Off floure of clergy and of philosophouris,
Ten or tu[e]lffe the wortheist that ȝe haue,
Quhilkis maist of wisdome ar oure all the laif,
To led my counsale and my governance,
That I pas nocht my goddis ordinance.
Giff ȝe do nocht, the perrell be on ȝow,
For but wise men, folis may na perrell chew—
Giff ȝe will nocht helpe me with ȝoure counsale,
It is nocht lyke ȝe wald þat I did wele,
Quhilk gif ȝe do, traist na gude in me;
Bot and I may be master of ȝoure cietie,
Till all my goddis here ane wow I mak
That I sall of ȝow sic ane vengeans tak
That all vtheris sall by ȝow exempill ta
In tyme to cum, sic ansure for to ma.
Ȝe watte to thame þat to me bowar war
I haue done gude, and punnyist vtheris sare—
Tak tent to Thebes, and to vtheris ma,
The quhilk ȝe watt wele I haue punnyist sare,

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That thai forthink þat euer þai maid debate.
Now beis wer, sen of my will ȝe wate,
And dois nocht þat eftir farthink ȝe may,
For traistis wele I sall neuer pas away
Quhill I haue entre and obedience.
Giff ȝe do nocht, schape ȝow to mak defence.”

The toun was grete, and stude fer in þe strand,
And dominatioun had of all þe land;
It had ane havin, the best of þat cuntrie,
And governit all the havynnis of þe Grete Se—
The farrest ciete þat euer ȝitt was foundit
In Grece, and in the tyme of Moyses groundit.
Thare was first schawin the lawis of Moyses,
To teicht out of the tabill copyit was,
And first was teichit þare, and syne in Rome,
Fra thyne till all the landis in Christindome.
Thare was the floure of science and clergy,
And first was foundit þare astronomy,
And all the subtell science of nature,
That gudlie war for mannis creature.
The flote that made the grete distructioun
Off mekill Troy, þai passit fra þe toun;
Than of Grece it was the floure, but pere,
Or Constantyne was foundit money a ȝere,
Throw quhilk the toun of Troy distroyet was.
Than Alexander with all his hale power
Gart rais his oist to put the sege þare.

Into the ciete was Transagoras,
Quhilk of þe toun and of the citie was;
Ane vthir doctoure callit Demonstynes,
Quhilk maist part of the counsale had aches,
Before tyme had ane vther clark gart de,
Quhilk Alexander louit in speciale.
And quhan the epistill red was þame beforne,
Thay tuk to be awyseit quhill the morne.
Thay twa for dispyte to thame maid defence
That thai suld mak him nane obedience,
Bot all the tounscheip wist þare causis wele,
And wald no credence gif to þare counsale;
Bot Arestotill þai callit, and Eschales,

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Quhilk senatouris and of the counsale was.
Thay said, “Lordingis, þare is no chois bot twa—
To fecht with him, or fewta till him ma.
Ȝe here how he [h]as done in vther landis—
He bertynnys all þat bowis nocht till his handis.
And gif ȝe think maisteris of him to be,
Schape to defend and fecht for ȝoure ciete—
He hes fochtin [fiftene] battellis now, or ma,
And neuer ane is gane aganis him of thai—
Ȝe ken the placis wele, and all þare nameȝ.
Wise ar thai that wther mennis faltis blameȝ,
Bot ȝe ar crabit for Transsagoras,
The quhilk for his defalt outlawit was;
And als ȝe watt quho that Demostynnis
To thame of Pers euer-mare consoundand was;
And syne ȝe watt þat for affectioun
And for dispete, and settis þame nocht on ressoun.
Me think it is foly to ȝow to do
That preiudice eftir mycht turne ȝow to.
Quha hard euer ane prince sa halely
Quhare-euer he gais haue ourhand and maistry,
And dois ay gude quhare he hes obeysance,
And kepis þame fra all distrublance
Off proude men and vitious þat þame noyis;
And syne ȝe se that na man he distroyeis
Bot in þare falt, and als vnderstand
That he tuke nocht sic governance in hand
Bot throw þe ordinance of goddis all.
Tharefore beis wer þat ȝe get nocht ane fall,
As vtheris he[s] done, and may for wordis fare
And litill of ȝouris hafe his lufe and repare;
And it may fall, fra he pas fra þis ciete
In tyme to cum ȝe sal him neuer eft se.”
And at the counsale of thir wise men twa
Thai haue ordand ane ambassace to ga
Till Alexander, and a fare goldin crovne
With [precius] stanis þai send him fra þe toun,
With that ane mychtie sovme of gold, and grete,
Bot þai vauld nocht to him opin þare ȝett.
And nocht forþi þe gold and crowne he tuke,

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Bot for þe entrie and clarkis þai him forsuke,
He was sa wraith þat grete wowis he made,
Thay sould forthink that forsakin him [þai] had,
And that he sould in all haist cum þame till
And his desyre haue all agane þare will;
And þus furthwith the sege he to þame brocht,
Bot þai leit of him [as] þai no thing rought.
Bot nocht forþi þai past in counselling
Quhat best war tobe done apoun þat thing,
And thame tocht best for till avisit be
With Arestotill, ane lord of þat ciete,
Quhilk was with him, and cheif of his counsale,
And syne thai suld him send þare responsale.

Into the toun ane grete he pillare þai had,
Quhilk ane wise clark was callit Platon made—
Ane hundreth cubeitis it was or mare on hicht,
And in ane rufe aboue ane lanterne bricht,
Quhilk kest sic licht þat baith be nycht and day,
Baith in the toun and als without, þai may
Ten myll about se all thing þat was done,
Als wele a[t] myrk of myd-nicht as at none,
Na þare micht nouthir schip nor galay pas
Within ane sale kennyng towart þare place,
Bot þai wald sone with galais apoun ga,
Till haue witing quhidder þai war freynd or fa.

Than Arestotill, quhilk was ane senatoure,
And of þe toun alsa ane counselloure,
Unto the counsale furthwith to witt þare will.
His awne freyndis maid gret request þaretill
That he wald helpe to trete for þare fredome,
Sen he was haldin ane floure of þare wisdome;
Bot Arestotill quhilk laith was þame deny,
And wist the kingis will all halely,
Bot swetely said þat he sould do his best,
For gudelie luffe and his freyndis request,
And to the oist he went but mare abaid.
The king him saw, and till him-selvin said,
And als before þe douȝeperis vowis makis,
(He dred he wald ask sum thing for þare sakis)
“That quhateuer thing my maister askis me

130

Langand þis toun, it nocht grantit be,
And all the contrare of his counsale do,
Quhateuer counsale þat he gif me to.”
Bot Arestotill, quhan he come nere the king,
Off his wow and hecht had no witting,
And tocht nocht for to speik of þat matere
Quhill he sould get the king at mare laysere.
Sa past þai than in talkin to and fra,
The douȝeperis with the king, and wther ma;
Than Tholome with Arestotill had talk
Within the ost, in playing quhare þai walk,
Tald him quho the king had made ane wow,
And bauld that he suld ask him nocht as now.
Bot Arestotill, that euer was war and wise,
Thocht he vauld find ane witt throw his polis,
And tuke his austrolabe and his quadrant
At evin, and lukit vp in the firmament,
And maid him for to speik of na trety;
Off quhilk the king had marvell gretumlie,
And him beheld, and come and stude him nere,
And till him said, “Maister, quhat seis þow here?
Quhat sayis ȝon proude carllis of þe toun?
Quhidder will þai peis, or we sall sla all doun?”

Than Arestotill sayis, “Certis, schir, þai nyll
Giff ȝow ȝon toun—þarefore do fort þi will;
That garris me luke quhen tyme war to assalȝe,
For þai will neuer be conquest but battailȝe.”
Bot neuerþeles þis was nocht his intent,
Bot for to put the king in argument,
That vnder þat he micht sum vardit say,
Quhilk fra the toun mycht wryith his will away,
To se to fynd him subtelle or [s]licht,
To saue his native fryndis gif he micht,
For he wist wele the king was sett in yre,
And but mercy to cry all blude and fyre.
Than said the king, “Fare maister, I þe pray
Quhan tyme war till asselȝie þow me say.”

Than Arestotill ansurid into þat stede,
Sayand, “Dere sone, vnder þe pane of dede,
And þow will do my counsale of a thing,

131

At my request to-morne in þe mornying
Than gar assembell all thing þat may birin,
And in all haist gar cast it ȝone dykis within,
With sulphur, ter, fyre, oly, powder, and gvn,
Syne gif ȝe assalt, thole þame nother [---] ne won—
Thay ar my fryndis, but turne þat I no can.
Tharfore I red ȝow saif nother wiffe nor man,
And blude and fyre þow cry to þine ensenȝe,
And all þare gude dail hale amange þi menȝe.”
With that the king in-till his skyn he trawis
He [n]as nere half sa craibbit in his da[w]is,
For had he traistit þat Arestotill wald
Haue gevin sa derf ane counsale, and sa bald,
For mekill gold he tocht nocht till haue made
That sely vow þat vowit he had;
And ȝitt his hart gaif Arestotill a los
Becaus his counsale come to his purpos,
Bot sen he had avowit he sould nocht do
Na thing þat his maister him counsellit to,
Before the douȝeperis he micht nocht cum agane,
Quharefore his hert was into mekill pane.
And schupe to mak of nede vertew forþai,
Said, “Arestotill, fare maister, grant mercy,
Bot sen the tyme þat I ane scolare was
In þis ciete, I will þame grant mare grace;
And als, for caus þat of it borne war ȝe,
That sum request for it ȝe sould mak me,
I made ane vow þat I sould do na thing
That ȝe requirit, na gaif me counselling,
For þai maister to save ȝour honouris all.
Ȝe sall the gretest of þe ciete call,
And throw ȝoure witt, visdome and subtelte,
Gar thame sum gude accordance mak with me,
Quhilk will ane conforte to my pepill gif,
And þai in pece may in þare cite liff.”

Thus Arestotill is past into þe toun,
And to þame gaif his counsale in commoun,
Sayand, “This man is fortunate, as ȝe se,
And bot he haue of ȝow soueranite,

132

He will ȝoure toun destroy, baith man and wife,
And in ȝoure cuntrie leiff na thing on liffe.
He made his vow fra thyne he sall neuer g[a]ne
Quhill be left stane standand apoun st[a]ne.”
He leit þame nocht wit of the kingis vow,
Bot all the countrare of it gart þame throw,
Quhill þat for raddoure þai consentit hale
Till Arestotill to wirk with his counsale.
Than Arestotill gart sembill in ane place
The maist excellant clerkis þat was,
And he schew þame the very dociment
Of conns[t]ellatioun of the firmament,
And be the cours of his nateuitie
That of þis warld lord anis sall he be,
And he was enterit in his conquesting,
In his flouris, and newlie crovnit king,
And erar wald thole dede na gane abak,
Or of his honoure haif reprufe or lak,
“And thus with farenes ȝe may him content;
Quharefore I rede þat ȝe will hale connsent
Send for him and ressaue him in ȝoure toun,
And gar assembill clerkis and commoun,
And say that ȝe will with him liff and de,
Ane him obey, and at his bidding be.”

And þis was done, and every party payit,
And all distructioun of þe toun delayit.
Thai brocht him in þe toun with grete honoure,
And him obeyit as king and emprioure;
And he agane grete giftis to þame gevis,
Aganis all men to kepe quhill he liffis.
Thus Arestotill kepit his natiue toun,
And savit his fryndis fra distructioun,
Kepit his aith, and held him fra reprufe,
And had his maistaris favouris and his lufe.

Quhen he had restit þare and made gud end,
Till ane grete ciete messingeris he send,
The quhilk is callit Lacedemonia,
And all his ost gart rise and thiddir ga,
For þai spak ill of þe nobill ciete
Of Athenis, quhare cummyn fra was he,

133

And said þai war bot cowartis and na worth.
Thare toun was stark ynouch to hald him furth,
And gif it fell þat he come to þare toun,
Thai sould schaw ane vther provisioun,
For þai had euer ane maner be þe sey
Off men of were, quhilk kepit þe ciete.
Bot Alexander amovit nocht þarefore,
For he knew wele þare fantasie before,
For commonlie toun-men will blaw gret boist,
Bot þai ar sone irkit to bide in ost.
Than Alexander epistill to þame sendis,
Lattand þame witt þat till him will it kend is
How of before þai till his elderis had
Favoure and luffe, and to þame fewta maid—
For it woinit to hald of thame of Grece,
Before that Jason wan the goldin fleis—
And thame requirit to think on auld kyndnes,
Giff þai wald liff with him in tendernes.
And thai agane ansured vncunnandly,
Bad him traist nocht þai war sa vnworthy
That as Athenes þai wald ȝeild but straik,
Bot defence for þare honoure wald þai mak.
With þat into þare schippis sone þai go,
And on the wallis armit þame also,
Closit þare portis and schupe þame to defence.
Bot Alexander, quhilk saw þare necligence,
Sone till Athenes bakwart sendis he,
And of rowbargis brocht ane grete menȝe,
And suddantlie þai sett þare schippis in fyre.
Syne to assalt þai past in birnand ire,
And brynt the portis, and mynyt the wallis doun;
With þat the folk þat saw þis in the toun,
Thay war sa ferd that þai com furth in hy,
Till Alexander on kneis cryand mercy,
To saue þare toun, and haue of þame piete—
Thai wald be his, and with him liff and de,
And hald of him, and forefalt neuer mare,
For it þai did, þi did for dred of Dare,
Or he suld witt but strake þat þai suld ȝeild.
Than Alexander, þat was all clerkis beild,

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Becaus þai war ane vniuersetie
In-to the toun, þe mare curtes was he—
He did þame grace, and tuke of þame homage:
Grete sowmes of gold þai gaif þame in trewage.
He enterit in þe toun and made devise,
And in the tempellis gart mak sacrefice,
Syne tuke his leif, and with his ost is gane
Till ane grete ciete quhilk callit is Abdriane.

Than Alexander to Peirs past his way;
Before the ciete of Abdriane he lay,
And send to thame, and askit þame entre,
Bot na responsale of þame gettis he—
Thai closit þare portis, and to thare wallis pas,
And lukis oure þare wall as þai war as,
And nother wald þai speik nor mak ansure,
Na mak defence, as þai war men of were.
Quharefore the king wald nocht thole gynis wend,
Na make na were, bot giffyn þai thame defend;
Quhill at the last he saw na beitt wald be—
To salt the toun in haist þan biddis he.
And alsa fast as it assalȝeit was,
Thai oppynnit, and askit þe kingis grace;
And he sperit quhy [þai] closit þare portis sua,
Bot gif þai wald mak were as to þare fa.
And þai ansurid, sayand þare maner was
Till all maner strangeris clois þare place,
Till þat þai wist quhidder frynd or fa þai war—
Sic bidding had þai of þare maister, King Dare—
Bot, sen all men maid him obedience,
Aganis his mycht þai wald mak na defence;
And thus þai ȝeildit him þe nobill toun,
And he tuke þame in his protectioun.

Syne rais þare ost, and past [inwart at anis]
Quhill þat þai come to the ryver of Senis,
Quhare þat þai come to a fare ciete and a grete,
Quhare þai had grete distres and falt of mete,
The quhilk ciete was callit Cattirpala,
And till ane vther, callit Olerint, alsua,
Quhilk wele obeyit him for his grete renovn,
And did him grete honoure within þare toun.

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Syne come he till ane ciete was callit Locrus,
Ane mychty ciete, full and plenteous,
And thare he baid refreschand his cumpaney,
Quhill [eight] or [nyne] dayis war passit by.
And in the mentyme nevys com to Dare
That Alexander with ost was cumand þare,
And in his hart it gaif ane ill feill,
And doutit him his realme stude na thing wele,
And semblit all his grete counsale him to,
To tak avise quhat best war to do,
Sayand, “Me semyis that this wikkit man,
Quhilk I wene neuer of were na wourschip can—
Behald him as ane theif and his menȝe—
And now he cummis to grete autoretie:
He wynnys battallis on force, and segis townis,
And conquestis cieteis, realmes, and regiounis;
And we wyn of him maister for till haue,
And he is lyik to maistry all the laif—
He has wonnyng sic honoure and renoun,
And put oure landis to sic confusioun.
I traistit of him for till [haid ourehand],
And he like is to chace me of þe land.
I send him barnys playokis, as til ane child,
And now he fechtis and wynnys in evere feild.
He is lyik till ourethraw all this cuntrie—
Quhare-ever he gais, followis him prosperetie.
Quharefore me think þat speidfull is that I
No mare into þis warld me glorefy,
Bot think quho I may liffe and honoure saif,
Se for my-selff quhill I sum fryndis haif.
I se his honoure growand, and his mycht,
And myne honoure gois bakwart, day and nycht;
I dred oure goddis be in his furthering,
And oure ws all will haue him lord and king.
Men sais he is baith wicht, hardy, and wise,
And I haue oft tymes sett him at dispite,
With letteris and epistillis of evill langage,
Becaus of him þan þat I had na knawlege.”

Than said a knicht was callit Ocherfere,
The quhilk to Dare was germane brodere dere—

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To be crabbit him tocht he caus had,
For he of Alexander oure mekill made,
And gaif him oure grete los of wourthynes,
And, as him tocht, sum part causles—
And gaif his broder ane grete retacheing,
For reuse he maid of Alexander the king.
Than spak ane vther prince, said, “He sais wele,
For Alexander be him-selff dois every dele,
And wiselie, but counsale, disponis alhale,
And with his awne mouth tellis all þis tale—
He biddis no man ga for him to fecht,
For he is formaist ay with all his mycht.”
Ane vther prince of Daris cumpaney
Said, “Alexander disponis all vertwisly,
And ay for him pretendis ressoun and iustice—
Thus is it lyik he war baith war and wise.
He dois na vrang to gud and wourthy men:
Ilkane luffis him fra tyme þat þai him ken.”
Than Dare beheld and hard þis argument,
And wounder sare gaif him in his entent,
For he was hatit mekill with his menȝe,
And dred him sare betresit he sould be;
And þan said Dare, “Þow spekis of gret wertew:
How may þow ken all þis bot þow him knew?”
The knicht ansurid, “I had of him knawlege
In Macedone, quhen I went for trewage,
Quhan he to me and to my feris said
The guse was [k]eild þe goldin eggis laid.
I mycht nocht say of him oure gret renowne:
He [h]as baith strenth and curage of lioun;
With that he is baith swete and debonare,
Full of fredome, wourthy and wise in were.”
Quhan Dare þis hard, his hart was wounder wa,
Seand þat his awne men rusit him sa,
For of before, fra Gadderis and fra Tyre,
Sa money men partit fra his empire
That he doutit the king þat him befell,
For of before he had hard clerkis tell
That all the goddis war of ane accorde
That ane sould cum quhilk oure all sould be lord.

137

Than Alexander assemblit his menȝe,
And tocht nocht spedefull oure money for to be,
And of his fut-men [thretty thousand] chesit out
Off chosen men, and knett all in a rout—
Thai war sa bodin and sa wourthy war þai
To fecht agane ane millioun for a day;
And of horsmen he had fifty thousand,
Quhilkis war baith wise and hardy men of hand,
For litill is to men to be hardy
Bot þai haue witt to governe vertewisly,
For few gud men with wise provi[s]ioun
Grete multitude will put to confusioun;
And with his navyn he had on the se,
Followand the ost about, quhare-euer it be,
Foure thousandis schippis and of hunderis five,
With gonnys, armouris, wappnnis, swerd, and knyfe,
And vther graith for mynis and leddering,
And gold and siluer to mak his purvaying;
And quhan him lest to confort his menȝe,
Tua hundreth thousand þairin reddy had he.
Than nere ane gret ryver lugit he was,
The quhilk to name was callit Eufrates.

Quhan that he had past throw Gret Armenȝe,
He had grete chere, and did na velaynye
Quhareto suld men mak grete langage or fere,
Quhare þare was nother battalle, assalt, na were.
He restit þare with ioy, solace, and play,
Syne him confortit, and his fallowis alsa.
On that ryver quhan he was lugeand thus
He made ane brig, was huge and mervelus—
The ryver was baith depe and stiff rynnand,
That na man mycht pas oure it with strang hand,
Bot it [war] throw the dangere of King Dare.
Tharefore King Alexander attoure þat watter þare
A brig he maid, with gret provisioun,
Apoun schippis þe maistis liand doun,
And euerilkane till vther chenȝitt fast
With irne chenȝeis, and with rapis of bast;
The chenȝis maid of irne and of bras,

138

And till grovand akis festynnyt was,
With wyndas tetit attoure þe gret ryver;
Fra schip to schip syne sparis couplit wer,
And oure þai sparris plankis and flakis syne;
Syne sand and plaister tuke out of a myne,
With small stanis, and causat it all oure,
That all the ost passit in dayis foure.
And quhen the ost was past, fra end to end,
Thai brak þe brig, and doun the river send—
The river was sa gret þair mycht nane fle,
Bot owther þame behuffit to do or de.
Than Alexander said, “Þarefore I it did,
And to ȝow lordis all I mak it kid,
I sall neuer pas agane to Macedone
Quhill I haue put in my subiectioun
Thir Indis all, with Pers and Tartary,
And all that beris the name of Barbary;
That none suld fle, the brig brokin haue I,
For fleand men wynnys na wictorie,
And quhan þai waitt nane wther is remed,
Than will þai bide, and fecht vnto the dede.”

Sa was ane lord callit Nestades,
The quhilk ane of King Dare princis was,
And wrette to Dare ane epistill, as ȝe may here,
Quhilk efterwart followis, in þis maner:
“Nostadis, prince of Metendat ciete[e],
To Dare, the king of kingis in maiestie,
Lord of all lordis, and maist dred emprioure:
Requiris ȝow, for ȝoure wourschip and walloure,
To be sa bald þat to ȝoure excellence
Ȝe wauld of grace excuse my necligence
To writte þis epistill I durst tak on hand,
Bot of ȝoure hienes ȝe wald wnderstand
That Alexander, the quhilk þat ȝe dispise,
And lichtlyis in ȝoure writtes in money wise,
Has all distroyed and hereit oure cuntrie,
And ȝoure lordis the wourtheist gart de,
And money presonaris away has [led]—
Sum turnis to, and wther sum is fled;
And [---] all oure land and made it bare,

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That to ȝour nede na helpe may ȝe get þare,
For all the worthiest of ȝoure menȝe
Air turnit to him, and maid him fewte;
Quhilk, for the wourschip and the gret walloure,
Off his largis he dois þame sic honouris,
And gevis þame landis, wourschippis, and riches,
And hardie pure men puttis out of distres,
That his renovne of fredome and gentrice—
And with þat is baith hardy, war, and wise—
Has turnit ȝoure men þe hartis till him all,
Quhare[fore] I dred þat ȝe draw nere ȝoure fall.
Ȝe held ȝoure men with hardnes and labouris,
And in þare mister maid þame na rescours:
Now is ȝoure ciete brynt of Medredate,
Ȝoure landis tynt, and mynist ȝoure estate;
And all for sparing to gadder gret tressoure,
Ȝe tyne ȝoure land, ȝoure men, and ȝoure honoure.”

Quhan the epistill was red, þan Dare was wod,
And rampit as ane lioun quhare he stude,
And for dispite his hart within him threw,
Bot tyme was gane— þan was oure late to rew;
And send oure all, and mandit his power,
Off all his land to sembill to him þare.

And in the menetyme come þare to þe king
Ane prince of Daris, a lord of grete living,
Sayand, “Lord, wald ȝe to my counsale traist,
Mak of ȝoure men ten thousand furth in haist,
With sum ane of ȝoure lordis in leding,
In hope of ȝoure rewarde and furthering,
And be the thrid day cum in the mornying,
I sall bring to ȝoure pallas Dare the king,
And of his princis the best and worthiest.”
With þat his eye the king couth till him cast,
With grete dispite and indignatioun,
Said, “Frynd, I had neuer favoure to tressoun—
Quhat los or honoure suld it be to me
Gif I ane feir in tresoun war to the?
Than war I foule as ȝow throw my consent,
And wourthy to be dempt throw iugment.
For þai rewarde to bring þis king to me,

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Ane small penny I wald nocht gif to þe;
And here þi leif I gif the all vnsocht,
For of þi seruice to me bid I nocht—
Sen þow thyne auld maister wauld dissave,
It war nocht lyik þow war traist to þe lave;
Bot and þow will send him ane diffyrance,
And warne him þat he se for his defence,
Ane fifty thousand I sall send with the,
Into thy helpe aganis him for to be,
For I herd neuer tell of na conquest
Throw tressoun maid, þat langsumly mycht lest.”
Thus gaif he him his leif, with grete reprufe,
And of his maistaris baith he lesit the lufe.

Syne here-attoure King Dare ane lettir send
Till Alexander, and till him maid it kend,
With all the poyntis of pride and wane-glore,
As we haue said in epistillis of before,
Till Alexander, his man and his seruand,
Quhilk tribute sould him pay of all his land:
“Thow hes writtin till oure excellance
That þow thinkis to cum to oure presence,
And in þe land of Peris, with power and with pride.
The name of Dare oure all the warldit sa wide
With all the goddis of Peris anornit was,
And glorefeit as god in everie place;
And gif ȝow has sic power as ȝow may
But my consent, wtheir be nycht or day,
Cum into Peris with powar and with mycht,
With my powar in battalȝe for to ficht,
It war to trow that all þe goddis Persanis
War with the Grekis and with the Egipcianis,
And all the goddis of þe est war turnit west—
Gif þat war socht, þan war my lordschip l[e]st.
And als I am warnit þat þow hes done
To my seruandis sa grete gude at þare bone,
And gevin to sum kinrikis and sum princehedis,
And sum chiftanis and mychtie lordis maid is,
Off quhilk I thank the nocht, bot as for me,
I dred þow gar þame hang on gallow tre.”

Quhen Alexander þis epistill had gert red,

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And to the poyntis of it tuke gud hede,
Ane vther epistill sone to his aduersare
He gaif vnto the messingere to baire,
Off quhilk the tennoure followis efterwart,
In effect as here cummyis in sum parte:
“Alexander, King Philippis son that was,
And son also to Quene Olympias,
Till Dare, quhilk callis him oure all king of kingis,
Baith emprioure and lord of money thingis,
Cosing to God, and as þe son schynand,
Quhilk all þe wardlit obeyis vnto his wand:
It is grete lak to erdlie men mortale
Him to compare to God perpetuall,
To son or mone, or ȝitt vnto þe sternes,
Na to planettis, that all þis warld governis—
Thay foly and þai pride askis ane fall,
And þai vane-glore displesis þe goddis all,
For goddis luffis na pride, bost, nor vane-glore,
For all gud grece meiknes mon ga before;
And as to þai goddis þow sais levis þai land,
I traist the caus is first in þe movand,
For the los þow beris, and the name—
Thay left nocht þe quhill first þow levis þame.
And langand gude I do to þai menȝe,
Traist nocht I do it for þe lufe of þe,
Bot for to schaw to þe and wther ma,
To wourthy men to quyte þi kyndnes sua,
That to þi lordis and seruandis to be kend,
And in þi falt tyne nevir sa litill ane frynd;
For falt of cunnandis keping and kyndnes,
Pride, with vane-glore, wrang wyn and wrachitnes,
Gerris men leif lordis, and preisis þame to ga
Till preif wtheris, þat bettir caus will ma;
And als as to þai men na thing I do
Bot as I woinit was myne awne seruandis to,
For kingis dedis, as all wise men recordis,
Suld be exampill to all vther lordis,
For as ane king is greter of degrie,
And oure all vther lordis in maiestie,
Sa suld þare gift haue na comparisoun

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Till wther men, of law subiectioun.”
Than Alexander þis epistill send þat here is,
And grete rewardis gaif his messingeris.

Than Alexander [---] in þis maner
To send to Dare ane vther messingere,
Till owther bid him mete him in þe feild,
Or cum his man, and homage to him ȝeild;
And in þe nycht apperit þe god Aymon
Till Alexander in his avisioun,
In habit ryall, and in all liknnyng
As he in Macedone was crownit king,
In quhyte syndone syde cled, and to him said,
“Recomfort þe, and be na thing affrayid,
And mak the boun [in] gyse as þow me seis,
And to King Dare as messingere þow beis,
And say þow cummys fra Alexander þe king
Till him of battall to mak peroffering,
Or ellis to ȝeild ȝe cuntre hale and fre,
To mak fewta, and hauld his land of þe;
And be nocht dredand—all thing sall cum wele;
I sall ay with þe be of þai counsale,
And saif the fra perrell and perrissing,
And bring þai purposis all till gude ending.”
And on the morne, als sone as it war day,
The visioun till his counsale he couth say,
And said he wald fulfill þe ordinance
Of þe goddis that led his governance;
And all his counsale said it was to do,
And þare consent and counsale gaif þareto.
The samyin nycht—na langer bide he wald—
And of King Darris men, a prince, he cald,
That was newlingis cumynn to him to duell,
Quhilk he traistit als mekill as him-sel,
And baid him graith tua coursouris of þe best
That he couth cheis, and in quhom maist he trest,
And lepe on ane, and ane in hand he led,
For him behuffit pas with him in sic a sted
Quhare þair sould pas nane vper bot þai tua.

The lord passit furth, as he bad did sa,
And tuke twa hors, and on the tane he lap,

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And Alexander apoun ane wther he gat—
Sa was ane hors fre led hernest at all,
Incace þat ony mister sould þame befall.
King Dare furth in his purchessing had bene
For men, and litill space was þame betuene,
Bot alanerlie ane ryver quhilk was grete,
That men callis Tigre, þat na man mycht oure gett
Bot at passagis made in grete cieteis,
And þare, quhay tane war of þe ost, he deis.
Syne war þare half ane iornay for to ryde
Till Daris pallas on the tothir syde,
Till ane ciete quhilk was callit Persepolas,
Quhare Daris duelling and his pallice was.
Thus rade þai furth als fast as þai mycht ride,
Ane grete hie trot vnto the river side,
The quhilk into þe wynter nycht was frosyn
Fra side to side, with berand stark yse closyn.

How Alexander vesyit King Dare in habit dissimillit

Than Alexander bad þe prince þare abide,
For nane bot he sould to the palas ride,
And oure the river he past but raddoure,
Apoun þe glas, in habite but armoure,
Be þat it was nere evin, and fast he rade,
And at þe kingis pallas ȝett he baid;
And all men þat him saw him did honoure,
For he was lyik ane hevinly diui[n]oure,
As men war woinit to se thare god Marcus,
In syndone habit quhite busckit þus.
Sa come the king, quhilk at his men had bene,
And semblit þame, and all his moustoure sene,
To se quhat nowmer of men he micht be;
And also fast as Alexander he se,
He salust him, and him anornit law,
And wend it war god Marcus þat he saw,
And sperit at him quhat kynd of men he was,
That in sic wise come sa laytit to his place.

And he ansured sweitlie, in gud maner,
Sayand, “Fra Alexander I come ane messingere,

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Send to King Dare, and, gif that þow be he,
In this maner to say he chargit me:
That þow suld nocht as cowart mak delay,
Bot of battalle þow wald him sett a day,
Or ellis obey to him and to his wand,
And hald of him þi lordschip in þi land.”
Dare him beheld, and wounderit of his weid,
And of his hardie spreit, and his manheid,
And said to him, “Peraventure þow be
King Alexander þat þus spekis to me,
For messingeris dar nocht here comonly
In my presence speik half sa michtely.”
Than Alexander said, “Soith it is
I am him-selff, or þan sum frynd of his.”

Than spak King Dare, “Certis, quhat-euer þow be,
As now þow sall haue richt gud chere of me,
For ay thai maister makis richt gud chere,
Quhay-euer þai cum, till all my messingeris.”
With þat the king enterit with him he bed,
And be þe richt hand in þe palais led,
And furth-with to the hall withoutin mare.
Mait was reddy, the lordis bade him þare,
[Giue h]ondis and to suppare þai went;
And burdis all with claithis of gold wer stent,
With that þe pillaris of þe siluore and yewall
With platis of fyne gold war ourecouerit all;
The burdis and trestis war of yvoure syne,
Bordourit with gold and precius stanis fyne.
At the hie burd King Alexander satt,
With wther princis of maist grete estate—
Be his clething and maneris semyt he,
And in all his feris, a man of state to be.
Of þare metis it nedis nocht to here—
Men may wele witt na deynteis war þaim dere;
And all that seruit in þat hall of weschall
Was of fyne gold, bot ony wther mettell,
And all the officeris that seruit þarein
War cled in claithis of gold or siluer fyne,
And all þe weschell was of gold massy,

145

Ouresett with stanis of pretius perry.
Than Alexander was seruit in cowpis round,
Off quhilkis ilkane was wourth [ten thousand] pund,
And alsa fast as he had temyt his coppis,
The cowpis of gold intill his bosum stopis;
The officeris his maneris þai beheld,
And to the king alhale þe maner teld,
The quhilk bald þame to speik þareof na thing:
“Percais it be þe custume of his king,”
This ansure maid King Dare richt courteously,
And ay beheld his maneris sobirlie.
The king persauit and saw that þai thocht ferly,
And till ane prince he said quhilk sett him by,
“Men ferlyis þat I tak þir coupis here,
And turs þame bot leif of officeris;
I traistit þat ȝoure cvistume war as ouris,
For Alexander ane prince of sic honoure is
Tha[t] quhan he sendis þe wyne in cowpis þus,
Thay drink the wyne, the coupis with þame þai turs,
For quhat he gevis fra him, cummynis nevir agane.”
Quhareof the lordis war sa wounder fane,
Sayand þe custume was lordlike and gude:
“Thare suld no king be gredy to the gude—
God gif þat war þe custume of our lordis,
In this maner as ȝe tell ws recordis.”
And alsa fast as he the worde had said,
Apoun the burd the coupis agane he led;
Than all the hall of þat reioseit war—
On Alexander þai study and þai star.
With þat ane prince had bene in Massedone
To ask tribute, fast studeiit him apoun,
And till his fallowis rownit privelie,
Sayand, “Ȝone man is richt lyik certanely
Till Alexander, war nocht ȝone strang wede.”
With that the laif drew nere and tuk gude hede,
And he saw that, and dowtit him sum thing
That thai sould mak sum lanage to the king,
And fra the burde he lap deliuerlie,
And to the dur in all haist couth him hy,

146

And furth he glad, and mekill ferlyit þai,
And ilkane sperit quhare will he pas away.
The nycht was mirk, he micht nocht se the gate—
Thai sperit at him quhare he wauld pas sa late,
And all the portaris cryit apoun him fast.
As he come furth sa fast, he mete cumand
Ane man of fute, a gleid of fyre in hand
Richt bricht birnand, and on the hede him smatte;
Thare he fell doun, he past furth his gate;
With him þe fyre-brand in his hand he bare,
And on his coursoure lap withoutin mare.
Quhen he was went, ilkane sperit quhare he was:
Thai sperit about, and socht oure all the place—
He tuke þe way to Tygir the ryvere,
With that the palais all was made on stere—
Syne at the portis the dede men fand þai slane;
Than was the king efferid, and no thing fane,
For be the tayknnys þat he hard þame tell,
He wist wele it was Alexander him-sel.
On hors and fute þai followit eftir fast,
Quhill in ane forrest come þai at the last.
The nycht was mirk, the wod was thik of breris,
Thare mycht na fallow hald him with his feris—
Thay willit and þai wist nocht quhare þai ȝede;
Sum raif his fas, sum strikkin fra his stede,
Sum tumblit doun in bankis and in brais,
And sum on cragis hors and man baith slayis,
Sum was drownit in pottis and in myris.
Bot Alexander wele gydit with þe fyre is,
Quhill he come to the river for to pas,
Oure quhilk he passit, frosin as it was.
The prince drew nere, and saw cumand ane low,
And nere þe land was begynnand to thow,
And he persauit it was his maister dere,
And lichtit doun, him mett at the river.
With þat the schill of yse birst all in schonder—
The king flaw oure, the cou[r]sour broschit vnder.
The prince þe king in till his armys clekis,
Vnder þe yse þe cou[r]soure doun he fletis.
The prince said, “Schir, in gud tyme ordand ȝe

147

Ane hors of wantage with ȝow led to be”.
He tauld his fortoun and his aventoure,
And thankit God þat he was sauf and sure.
Be he come to the oist it was nere day,
And all the yse was thowand quyte away,
For all that freissis on the wynter nychtis
Meltis with the day, with hete of son and mychteis.

Quha was mare dolorous na Dare the king,
Quhilk on þe morne, als fast as day couth spring,
Into the tempill he past to mak prayer,
And ansure of his goddis for to here.
Sa was þare ane ymage of grete stature,
Off massy gold made efter the figure
Off him quhilk was ane wourth emprioure,
Was callit in his tyme King Exerses,
And in þare tempill prophecy þare was
That he and his suld leif in pece and rest
Quhill þat ymage suld fall and all to-brest.
And as Dare satt in till his vrisoun,
The ymage brek, and fell in picis doun,
That on his breist on grouf he flatlingis fell,
For till his hart come never sa sare ane knel,
Sayand, “I se wele now I am bot loist—
Allace that euer I assemblit men in ost,
For to be tynt throw my fortoun of me!
Bot now for schame suppois I witt to de,
I man tak the anture into battalle place.”
With þat wele oft he sighit and said allace,
That he war dede and of þis warld away—
Quhile he satt doun, quhile tumlit, quhile he lay,
Askand his god quhy fell his fortoun sua,
Bot þare was nane þat ansure wauld him ma.
“Now se I wele,” þan said he, “I may trest
Oure estir goddis ar past all in þe west.”
Than vp he rais, and semb[l]it his menȝe,
To se quho money fechtaris he micht be—
He was sex or sevin hundreth thousand,
Quhat of his and quhat of Porrus land;
He past furth and the feild tuke in hy,
And for the battale ordand halely.

148

Bot Alexander had nocht þe thrid of þai:
Off fut-men [thretty] thousand, with few ma,
And of hors-men he was [thretty] thousand,
Withoutin his flote of schippis þat was cumand,
Quhare all his tressoure and artilȝery
Was kepit and tursit fer mare vncummerandly,
For tuenty schippis will turs mare gere in flottis
Na wil be land tua thousand chareotis;
He hade five thousand schippis and wele mare,
Quhilk mete at his tristis ay before,
Nocht all togidder, bot into fere cuntreis,
As he conquest be realmes and cieteis.

Than Alexander, quhan he was cumand hame,
Wan sic ane los, ane wourschip, and a name
Of all his lordis, his barrouns, and menȝhe—
Mare hardy sprete was neuer in varldit na he.
Than semblit he his men, and tuke þe feild—
Thare mycht men se full money sembly scheild;
The trumpis and taburnis blew anone,
And all the douȝeperis to the feild is gone,
The oist arayeit, þe battale sone war sett,
And passege oure þe Tigre sone þai gett,
And to King Dare þai pas to vesie him,
The nerrest way towart Perssypolim;
Off quhilk King Dare was warnit of before,
And disparit þat his wourschip was bot lore,
And fane vald haue accordance and trety
To leif in pace, bot þat micht neuer be.
And, to mak schorte, the battall come sa nere,
With sic a noyis, a sound, and sic a bere,
In sic array, devise, and ordinance,
That richt ioy was to se þare governance:
The armit knichtis, with tymyllaris and trapouris,
On armit hors, with goldin covertouris,
With pynnons, pynsalis, banerais þat scherely schane,
Helmis, hactounis, and scheildis gold begane.
And nocht forþi þat Dare discomfort was,
Mare hardy knicht faucht neuer in battall place;
Bot he was full of pride and grete pompoure,
And sett him ay to sembill gret tressoure,

149

And lichtlyit men, and held þame ay at vnder;
Quharefore, suppois þai left him, was na wounder,
For gud men ay wauld swetlie tretit be,
And ill men punyst for þare iniquitie;
And namlie gud men into tyme of were
Suld haue the spreith, þe riches, and þe gere—
The landis and the lordschippis to the king,
To gif to wourthy men at his lyking;
Till him the manrent, service, and honoure,
Quhilk may suffice to ony conquerioure.
Quha covatis all to hald, all men forga—
The prince, of polecy, will þat it be sua.
Quha trowis nocht þis, latt þame behald þe quhele,
And of the fikkill Fortoun tak a feill,
And to the changeing of genologys,
As clerly may be sene in all storeis;
Thai sould nocht sett þame for wrangous conquest—
The saull is tynt, the lordschip has no lest.
Be Alexander I say, and vther ma,
Þocht he þis warld be fortoun conquest sua,
His airis þareof had bot litill part,
And full schort was his iosing eftirwart.

Quhat will ȝe mare? Þir battallis strak togidder.
The fortoun of the were is wounder slidder—
Suppois Dare had ma men, dowbill and tribill,
The name of Alexander was sa terribill,
Sa money landis had conquest, and battalȝeis,
Sa money stouris, and sa money hardy assailȝeis,
And money of King Daris men had him left—
Alexander with lordschippis had þame feft;
And þai þat ware into his cumpaney,
Full fane þame wald to Alexander allay,
War nocht for schame to tak ane cowart part,
As may appire be þare dede efterwart.
Than Alexander had ordand [twelf] battalȝeis,
Ilkane to furthir wther gif ocht þame falȝeis;
Emenedus the vangart leid he bed,
And everie douzepere ay ane battalle led.
Thus, in [ten] battallis þai war legiounis ten,

150

In everie battall ane legioun of gude men;
And in þe battall quhare him-selff suld be,
Off wourthy men he ordand legiouns thre:
Sevin thousand seven hundreth sevinty and sevin
The nowmer is of ane legioun evin,
To sett it to the maist degrie of all
Off angelis, ȝitt wther wayis say we sall.
And as the battallis was cumand in array,
Sa come ane spy fast ridand in þe way;
Till Alexander into þis wise he sais,
Sayand, “Lord, ill kepe takkis ȝow to þi fais
Fore-seyne,” and tald þame all be count:
“Oliphantis wele sex skore in ane front,
With somer castell full of Syreanis,
Quhilkis on þi vantgard settis al at anis,
And to leid þame, ane battale of Turky,
Ane hundreth thousand in þare cumpaney,
Than Alexander said, “Þis is lait warnying—
With helpe of God we sall se for þat thing.”
King Alexander a thousand chariottis,
Quhilk was wele armit, ordand for sic notis,
With gvnnys chargit, crapaldis, and culuerynis,
Rabaudkynnys, with money vther engynes,
Gart call before þe vantgard, fast togidder
Cupplit with chenȝis, þat þai mycht nocht schidder,
And gart þe weyngis þat þai sould draw þame by
On ather side, and latt the chariotis ly
Into þe way before the oliphantis,
That quhan the somer castellis to thame plantis,
Thay may neuer turin, bot hald the hie gait furth—
Thai ar sa stiff, and beris sa gret ane birth;
And on the hors þai sawe occupeid,
To werry þame, þat þare þi sall abide,
For oure the armit cartis þai micht nocht pas
Quhill wyngis and vantgard agane assemblit was,
Behynt the oliphantis quhilk mocht nocht turne
Quhill of the formest feyest þai gart spurne.

The battallis come in with sic ordinance:
Quhan Dare þat saw, quhilk had all his fyance
In oliphantis, Turkis, and Syreanis,

151

And in þe hynder battall was Indanis,
He was sa affryit he wald haue bene away,
For sic ane murthir on his men maid þai
That hepis lay of dede men in þe feild,
With money blude hawbrek, helme, and scheild,
And money grisly grane and wofull wound,
Thay war sa sett þare fais to confund,
And money stob and stok was in þat stound,
And mony sturdie steid slane in þat ground,
And money ane helme and hawbrek and hawbirgioun,
And mony ane hardy knicht was hewyn doun.
Than Alexander wald fane at Dare had bene,
And for þare was sa mony of þame betwne
Off fechtand men, that he micht nocht atteyne.
With that King Dare began to draw the reynȝhe,
And wald haue bene away with all his mayn,
Bot multitude of men held him agane,
The quhilk within schort tyme begouth to fle.
With þat King Dare, quhan he that sicht couth se,
He was sa wa, wele [ne] he wexit wod;
And þai of Grece þare seingȝhe cryit loude—
With that King Dare began him till vmbdraw.

Than Alexander, þat þus þame fleand saw,
Apoun the somer castallis send agane,
And all þat ware into þai castellis slane,
And all the oliphantis þare stekit þi,
For þai micht nowthir fle abak na gang away;
And quhan the oliphantis begouth to sweye,
To qualis and huddownys like war on the sey.
Than Dare þat saw, sichtand said “allace”,
For in þai beistis all his fyance was;
Bot Alexander in þame wald haue na rest,
Sayand þat battall of gude men was all þare best,
Sayand, “Quhat wourschip war, or quhat honoure,
To king or prince or wther conquerioure,
To say þat he oure-cummyn [h]as his fais,
Quhen wylde beistis all the discomfit mais?”

Thus to þe ciete fast fled is King Dare—
The feild with Alexander is levit þare,

152

With all the spreith, the gude, and the riches,
The quhilk was mare nor ony man can ges;
And foure-and-fourty thousand þare was slane
Of Daris men, left liand in þe plane,
With all the castellis and the oliphantis,
And Alexander bot of his menȝe wantis
Wele sex skore of futmen, and few ma,
And of hors-men þare deit fourty and tua.
Than Alexander gaif to his futmen gold,
To berry all þai slane men in þat mold,
The quhilk efferis wele to ane prince to do
Quhan God the victory has send him to.
T[h]a[n] eftir Emenedus with þe vangard,
Come Tholome and Clessoun efterwart,
Quhilkis with þare battallis faucht sa hardaly;
Syne followit on the chase sa mychtely
That fra þe feild ly endlang to the toun
Ten thousand slane men lay stragillit vp and doun.
Syne Dawclyne stark apoun the banner man,
And straik him doun, and Daris banner wan;
Syne Lyconor, Philote, and Arestes,
Quhilk with þare battall foucht lang into preis,
In battall syne Caulon and Predicas,
Quhilk on ane wther battall fechtand was,
Than to the king þai semblit halely,
And followit on the flicht richt sturdely.
The king strak doun ane prince cald Philodos,
And sone efter ane Turk he laid in glois;
And money wourthy fortoun to him fell,
Quhilk in my power is nocht all to tell,
Quhat of douȝeperis and money wourthy knichtis,
For quhan ane multitude in battale fechtis,
Suppois ane thousand heroldis war by ordinantis,
Thai sould nocht tell þe teynd of þe waliantis
Quhilkis þare is done [by] diuers knychtis kene,
Quhare-euer ane mortall battall done has bene.

Quhairfor haue me excusit, I require,
Suppois I tell nocht all the dedis here,
Quhilk wther buikis in þare ditis recordis,
At þare plesance, or appetite of lordis,

153

Becaus þat amange men it has oft tymes bene sene,
And oft oure-red has sum padgentis bene,
In buikis of þe auld translatioun,
Quhilk hes bene in þis cuntrie sa comoun;
Suppois I wrett nocht all thing þat I se
In thing that was translatit forrow me,
It rekkis nocht, for men that knawis it wele,
And has it hard, and has of it ane feil,
Thay will oure-pas more lichtlie þat part,
And here the thingis that cummys eftirwart,
And of materis that strange ar and vnkynd,
Leif no-thing, bot write fro end to end.
And schortlie for to tell of the douȝeperis,
And wther kingis, dukis, and princis peris,
Thay did þare dede sa douchtely þat day
That, and I sould rehers all þat I hard say,
For to recorde þe flearis and the slane,
It war bot langage spendit into vane,
For men may traist þai had neuer conquest þus
Had nocht þare dedis bene mare mervellus.
King Alexander in myddis of þe feild
Ane gia[n]t callit King Philodos he keild,
Quhilk of the lyniage was of God Magoȝ—
Ane fute large betuix the ene he was,
He was sa mekill, mycht gane him na armyng—
Off þe gret ile of gyantis he was king.
Emenedus alsa his bruther sleuch,
Callit Pemagos, and reft fra him a beuch,
Quhilk was ane grym and ane ful laithly fyre—
Sum said his wapin was ane akin spyre.
Syne Tholome come with his batall nere,
Quhare the Tartarianis in þare battall were,
With thame of Ethiope and Caldee,
Quhare ma þan [thretty] kingis in þat semble
War tane and slane, with mony wther sowdanis,
With money of princis, of dukis, and of grangtanis,
The Canis of Turky and of Tartary,
Off Ethiop, Cathay, and of Caldye,
Quhilk of þe King of Yndis bidding war,
Cummying to the were in helpin of King Dare.

154

To tell quhat kingis, dukis, princis, and sowdanis,
Quhat tane, quhat slane, quhat fled away attanis,
Quhilk cummyng was to Dare in his furthering,
Sum men wald say it war bot a lesing,
For als trew as I wrett with þis pen,
The story sayis þai war of Daris men
Wele sex hundreth thousand men or ma
That vincust war, and chasit to and fra,
With auchty thousand—or the story leis—
That semblit war of mony far cuntreis.

Thus in þe ciete fled was þe emprioure Dare,
And all his menȝe chasit here and þare,
Sum slane, sum tane, sum woundit in þe feild is,
Sum fled away, sum dede vnder þare scheildis.
Furthwith he wratte to Porrus, King of Inde,
As he that was his cosing and his frynd,
And tald all his mysfortoun and aventure,
And prayit him of his helpe and his succoure,
Requirand him to send him helpe in haist,
For in his helpe was halely his traist;
And he richt gude ansure send him has,
That gif na war þat he was in seiknes,
He sould in propir persoun cum him till
With all his powar, with ane gudly will,
Bot sen na he mycht in persoun properly,
He suld him send his powar halely,
Th[r]e hundre thousand wourthy men and wicht,
Quhilk custumyt war in battall and in ficht,
And bad him be of gude confort and blayith,
For his recomfort suld cum till him swyith.
And quhan King Dare had hard of his tithing,
He was sa blaith, and tuke sic conforting,
That all his men he prively ral[i]d;
And of King Alexander was wele espid,
Quhare he was in his blyithnes and his play,
And traistit all his men was skalit away,
And that þai sould nocht sembill he traistit wele,
Bot of þare sembill he sould haue sum feil;
And had his spyis about him in þe land,
To latt him witt quhan þai sould be gaderand.

155

Than thocht King Dare to mak a iuperdie
Apoun ane hill was callit Mons Taury,
The quhilk was fifty stagis to the hicht,
And nere þareby ane ciete of gret mycht,
Quhilk Tars was callit, quhilk large was and wide,
And Mont Liban was on the tothir syde.
Than tocht King Dare to cum ane wther way
On Alexander, quhilk in the tentis lay,
And on the montane, ane way þat nane wald traist,
Of armit men he semblit ane oist in haist—
Ane hundreth thousand gart sembill suddantly
Betuix the Mont Liban and the Mont Taury,
And tocht to tak thame into disaray;
And syne tua hundreth thousand couth he lay
Betuix the ciete and the palliouns,
To stryk on þame betuix þame and the towuns
Off Syr and Tigre, and of Persipolym;
And syne ane hill þat nane agane mycht clym
Was evin abuffin quhare Alexander was,
In pavillioun liand in ane opin plais,
Quhare þai with stanis and gynis in þat plane
Micht skaill his oist, and tak na skaith agane;
And syne he in enbusch ordand to be
Tua hundreth thousand men, or thre,
To cum on þame into þare disaray,
Into þat place quhen disarmit war þai.

Bot Alexander, þat was baith war and wise,
Had euer his spyis and scoutis at devise,
And quhat King Dare ordand be his counsale,
Within schorte tyme he wist þare purpois hale,
For in his hall and his chalmer daylay
He had his spyis, of his awne cumpaney.
Than Alexander, þat wist of þare emprise,
Gart [fiftene] thousand in þe dawing rise,
And on the hill he led thame secretly,
Wnder ane crag, quhare na man mycht þame spy,
All apoun fute into hie montangȝeis,
With spere and dart, gvn, culverryn, and gangȝeis,
And cast of stane, þat, quhan þai tuke þe hill,
It was sa strait þai had þame at þare will,

156

And dang þame doun, and brak all þare array—
The king him-selff gaif þame the first assay.
And quhan þai saw thai war dissauit þus,
The grete battall, quhare was Emenedus,
Bidand þare the [time] of þare buschment,
Quhare King Dare had his battall stent,
He herd the scry apoun the hill abone [OMITTED]
And of the douzeperis, part was with the king,
And part was þare bidand þare furth-cuming.
King Tholome ane wther battall had
Gif myster wer, and in þe feild he bade;
Emenedus in þe feild King Dare abidis,
And Tholome apoun the tother syd is.
Thai strak togidder with sa gret a fors
That sic ane rerde was, baith of men and hors,
That like was hevin and [erd] suld ga togidder.
The king þat herd, and he in haist come thidder,
And he strak in apoun ane wther part.
Thare men mycht se fall money ane proude standart—
The stoure was strang, with mekill feris fechting;
The fecht begouth tymely in the mornyng,
And all the day enduring quhill the nycht,
Quhare [Dare] his men saw failȝe in þe fecht,
And on all sidis bakwartis was borne doun.
Than he began to draw him to the toun—
King Dare had briggis in þe tounys of þe best,
To pas the wattir of Tygre quhan him lest.
Beȝound the wattir of Tygre þe melle was,
On Mont Trairy, quhare was ane wourthy place,
Quhilk Tars is callit, ane nobill grete cietie,
And nere beside þat place was þe melle;
And quhan Dare fled, he wald haue bene thareat,
And was sa sarit þat he na lasere gat,
Bot endland doun þe ryver side he keist—
Quha mycht be formest in the fecht þai preist;
The day was gane, and cummyn was þe nycht—
Thare mycht nane knaw ane wthir in þe flicht.
King Daris men the cuntray better knew,

157

And all the nycht endland þe rivere drew
Quhill it was in the dawing of þe day;
Than till ane toun was callit Siȝ come þai,
Bot quhan þai saw the river frosyn was,
For haist þai the yse tuke, and left þe place—
The brig was stark yneuch þame for to bere,
Bot lang to pas was perrell for bak here,
For thame behuiffit to be ane day or tua
To pas ten thousand men, or litill ma,
And þai war ma na tua hunder thousand,
That with King Dare was fast away fleand.
The ysse was thik ane elin wele, and mare,
That first the king, syne all the oist, it bare,
Quhill in the mornying, at the son rysing,
Nere by the land þe iss lousit sum thing;
And als the maner of the Tygre is,
The nycht it freisis, and in the day lousis.
And quhan þai war most theik on it passand,
Ane myln on bred, chokfull fra land to land,
The yse begouth to be creves, and to breist—
Thai tumblit doun ilkane on vther fast,
Sa suddantlie þat in ane litill stound
Thay war all sokin to the welis ground:
The men baid vnder, sum flittit of the hors,
Bot syne the ryver, þat ran with sic ane fors,
Bare hors and men vnder þe yse away,
That na[ne] chapit þat in the ryver lay.
Syne all the leif straiglaris þat fleand was
Past to the brig, and enterit in the plais.
And quhan þir thingis tald war to King Dare,
To here his m[ay]n it was ane grete hart-sare;
Intill his palis of Persipolyn,
Quhan in his oratry he was enterit in,
All him allane, and on-closit the dure,
And on his keneis on grouf fell in the flure.
He tumlit and he welterit as ane wiffe,
Sayand, allace! gif he had loist his lyffe,
And all his men had sauflie cummyn away,
And fra that tyme in care-bede seik he lay.

Than Alexander till ane tempill is gane,

158

Quhan þai had at þare liking tane and slane,
And till his goddis makis his sacrefice.
The tempill was ordand all att devise,
Quhare money kingis lay in sepulture,
With grete ymagis, and eftir þare stature,
Off messy gold, with mychty perry,
Quhilk Exerses, the empriour wourthy,
Had foundit in his honoure of Martus,
And maid his lare þare wounder glorious,
That in ane quhite sapher he lay,
That all his body clerly, [n]icht and day,
All men mycht se þat in þat tempill ware—
On athir sydis the saphere was sa clere—
And quho in ane plate of gold he woundyn was,
With balmes and spicis that sic ane nature has
That neuer mare the fleche sall rote na sovir,
Bot euermair as the balm ryall to flewir;
And nixt besyde him, in ane amatist,
His lady Philomene lay in ane keist,
In the samyin wise, bot all þe stane was grene—
Baith nycht and day hir body micht be sene;
And þame abone was maid ane sepulture—
Mare crafty was nevir carvin in portrature,
All of fyne gold, with pretius perrery,
That in þis erd mycht nane be mare mychty:
The pillaris all war pretius stanis dere,
The patiement was all of cristy clere,
The torris was owthir of ruby or diament,
About þe sepulture þat war standand;
On everie tor ane cherbunkell sett þai,
Quhilk gaif ane lycht at mydnycht as on day,
And all about the tempill on þe wallis,
Off gold ane stature of þare god all is,
And sidlingis all the wall to the durris
Of croving kingis and þare sepulturis,
That þare was nane þat worthy king had bene
Bot he was carvin in gold sa clene;
And at the pillaris lay the empriouris,
Maid stately fer in to þare sepulturis.
The wallis and the pillaris halely

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War coverit all with plate of gold semely;
The paithment of the tempill, and the flure,
Off iaspe and evore chakkard to the dure;
And all the tempill thekit was all-hale
With sclates of cristall and of beriall.

Than Alexander, quhan he þat sicht couth se,
Intill his hart he had richt grete daynte,
And nochtwithstanding þat he counsalit was
To tak alhale of gold and that riches
That on the kingis sepulture lay,
Bot fra þe goddis tak na thing away,
Bot he wald nocht, for honoure of princehed,
To dishonour þai princis þat war dede,
Bot tak the place in his protectioun,
And put to kepe men of religioun,
And rentit þame with landis mychtelie,
For thare honoure þat had bene sa wourthy.

Than to the palleis passis he in hye,
Quhare þare was leyand money a gay lady,
And to the ladyis send reconforting;
Bot quh[en] þai wist how fled was Dare the king,
And all his menȝie chaissit away and slane,
And money ane drownit, þai war in mekill pane,
And to þare secrete chalmeris gais in haist.
Thare Daris wiffe, quhilk had of dollour maist,
Scho fell in sownying, sa did his moder dere,
His sisteris tua, and als his dochteris clere—
Sum was ourecumyin, and liffis in mekill pane,
Bot Daris wiffe rais neuer vp agane,
Bot furth-with in þat place hir hart couth b[ri]st—
Hir date was done, scho mycht no langer leist.
And Alexander gart erde hir with honoure—
Amange the kingis gart mak hir sepulture—
And confort all þe laif in gud maner,
And prayit þame þat þai wald mak gud chere,
Sayand within ane schort tyme þat þai sould se
That he and Dare sould weill accordit be.
Quhan Dare þis herd, his hart was nevir sa sare:
Furthwith he rent his rob and raif his hare,
And with his neiffis apoun his breist he dang,

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Sayand, allace! quhy leiffit he sa lang;
And syne vnto the tempill passis he,
In that entent for dule þare for to de.
He was sare woundit, and wald of no leiching,
And tocht that he sould de but persaving.
Sa come ane man that of þe chalmer was
Off his moder, and furthwith come fra þe place,
And baid him leiff and of gud conforte be,
For Alexander had tald to his priwe
That he wald haue Roxen, his dochter fare,
And hir to spous, quhilk was hir faderis aire,
And pace to mak and gude freyndschip for ay;
And alsa fast as Dare þis hard him say,
Quhare he lay on his breist in-til ane sowch,
He gliffynnit vp, with that ane litill he leuch,
Sayand, “Wist I that I micht trow þai tale,
Of all my dolour I wauld sone be hale.”
And him said that certane it was trew:
With þat his corage sum thing till him drew;
Bot it was nocht bot throw his moderis wayis
Fenȝete to confort him of his maleis.
And þan he tald him þe wourschip and honoure
That to thame he had done throw his valoure,
Off quhilk King Dare sum thing reconfort was,
That his diseis him grevit fer the les.

Than was thare cummyin out of the west cuntrie
Till Alexander, baith be land and se,
New lordis, with freche men and wele arrayit,
And all renewit with thingis þat are was affrayit,
And all armyngis brocht him of þe best,
For in-till were na thing may all-wayis lest.
Than ordand he ane brig oure þat river
Of Tygre, quhilk was rynnand by him nere,
And tuke out of Mont Liban þe treis
Quhilk in the wattir neuer rotis na deis,
War fifty cubeteis lang of massy trie,
That nane farare into the warld mycht be.
Thus throw the brig he bandonyit all þe land,
And all his men was cumand and ganand;
And to the ladyeis wourthy chere he maid,

161

As wele efferis the honoure of knichthede.

Than, fra King Dare hard that Alexander was
Sa sett in loufe, his dolloure was þe les,
And till him wraitt ane epistill pieteously,
Richt fauorabill, and sum part thankfullie,
And send it to him with ane messingere,
In termes wrettin as ȝe sall efter heir:
“Dare, King of Pers at godis will to endure,
Till Alexander, and now his subiectoure,
Salus I send, with meiknes of victor;
Sen God hes send sic wourschip, los, and glore
To the, ane mortale man, as wtheris is ma,
I the require, sen it is hapnit sa
That the hes obtenit dominatioun
Off mony realmes, lordschip, and regioun,
The quhilkis sum tyme was myne, and held of me,
And now oure goddis, the quhilk ar turnit to the,
Has grantit to the þe floure of victorie,
And als my men turnis to the halely,
That þow wald grant me for þai gret gentrice,
As þow beris now of curtesy the price,
To send my moder and my dochter fre
And my sisteris all frelie hame to me;
For wemen aw nocht to be presonaris,
Bot in sic wayis as to þare state efferis
Thay sould be haldin at honoure and fredome,
With all wourschip, sen we of wemen come.”
With that he sichit sare, and said, “Allace!”,
With tigland teris trottand doun his face,
“And for my wiffe, þat dede hes tholit for me,
Here I forhecht neuer maryit for to be,
Nor neuer woman for to couth my licame,
Nor for to kis, quhill I be laid in lame;
And here I hecht, King Alexander, to the,
The halff of Peirs of me, and Nube,
And all the tressoure that my fader wan
In the land of Ceirs and Median,
To tak my dochtir, and mak fryndschip for ay:
Than sall ȝow be myne are eftir my day;
And þis mekill of gentrice I the pray,

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And liff in pace, and mak fryndschip for ay.”

Quhan Alexander the epistill had oursene,
He had it to the ladyis and the quene,
And gart mak thame richt gud and wourthy chere,
With grete wourschip, as to thame sould effere;
And quhan the tennoure to thame weill was kend,
Till Dare the ansure of his epistill he send,
As followis efter, in þis forme þat here is,
And gaif grete giftis till his messingeris:
“Alexander, King Philippis son þat was,
And son also to Quene Olimphias,
Till Dare the king, and emprioure of Pers
(It nedis nocht all titull to rehers):
It settis nocht to ane wourthy conquerioure
That settis his hart for wourschip and honoure,
To by honoure for gold na for riches,
For in sa fer his wourschip wourthis les;
And als, gif we sould part the land as peris,
Than sould we be in fallowschip, as feris,
And I haue hard in wise bokis recorde
That sindrie kingis in ane realme may nocht corde;
Bot and he will him ȝeild all hale to me,
And at my governance all hale for to be,
And hald of me as of his souerane king,
Off all his skaithis and his dampnageing
I sall restore, and mak him lord and syre
Off all the landis that he held in empire;
His moder, his douchter, and his sisteris fre
Without dishonoure delyuerit sall þai be;
And gif him list in batall bettir till assay,
To preif with force to bere þe price away,
And he me wyn, he salbe lord of me,
And I and all myne subiectis till him be,
And gif I wyn the force of victorie,
I salbe lord oure him all halely,
And all to hald in my subiectioun
His landis hale, in castell, toure, and toun,
For certanlie my purpois is allway
Oure all be lord, or tyne all on ane day.”

And in the mentyme, quhil this thing was wrocht,

163

King Dare ane man of his awne houshald socht
Quhilk wald consent ane tressoun for to do
For wardlis gude King Alexander to.
This man sould be richt wele avisit forthay
To traist in þare new counsalit inemye,
For men that flittis lichtly fra lord to lord,
It war nocht lik þai sould with wther accorde—
Sic men ar eith to trete to mak tressoun.
Thus wise men, that hes knawlege of ressoun,
Suld kepe fra þare recounsellit inemye,
To traist in þame þare persoun specialie.

Off the tresoun of Alexander contruvit be Dare

Thus Alexander traistit in Daris men,
Suppois þare conditiounis he micht nocht ken;
Sa ane of thame, that was ane lord in Peirs,
That man to Alexander new cummyn was,
Quhilk with ane douchter of Daris was in amouris,
Ane prince, quhilk was an[e] of his governouris,
And wald fane had ane into mariage;
Bot he was a man of law parage—
He micht nevir gett hir fader will quhill he
Had oblist him till his bidding to be,
Till antyr him King Alexander to sla
In his chalmer, quhan nane was bot þai tua,
And doand þis, he sould his dochter haif,
And halff his land, and governe all þe laif.
Than Alexander in takin of his enseingȝe
Had ordand for to bere on all his menȝe,
As we do here the cors of Sanct Androw,
Or Sanct Denys of France þe kynd awow;
Sa was that prince in wed of Macedone,
And Alexanderis takin bare him apoun,
And quhan he was in secreit with the king,
And all the laif was furth in þare playing
Vnto the ladyis vp in þe pallis,
And with the king richt few þare levit was,
He drew him nere behyind him in þe myrk,
And on the hed ane straik he couth him hitt,

164

And tocht to cleif him to the schulderis doun;
The swerd flauterit, and skelist on his crovn,
And schidlingis schare þe hatteral of his hede,
Quhill that the king founderit in þat stede,
And start about, and tocht him for to claucht;
Bot he þat did, he fled with all his maucht,
Quhill in þe chalmer fast þai tressoun cryit,
And all the lordis to the king alyde,
And socht the hous, and fand the tratoure þare.
And he grantit quho that his master Dare
Had hecht him land, lordschip, and lady,
For till vmbedo the conquerioure wourthy,
Quhilk him fortocht, and rewit wounder sare,
Bot, for with luffe he stressit was sa sore,
Wald anter him to de erare in þat place,
In hope to stand into his ladyis grace;
And askit him for his hie maiestie,
His wourschip, clemence, and grete pitie,
For till haue merce and compatience,
“And think þow man wald mak obedience
Vnworthely oft tymes, for heit of luffe,
Havand nane ee to wourschip na reprufe,
Quhilk, and he war temperit in his richt witt,
Wald for na gold consent ane poynt of it.”

Than Alexander, þat was of hie prudence,
Consederand wele þat king suld haue clemence,
And grete wourschip is till ane prince alsua
Till haue mercie quhan he may vengence ta,
And namlie on ane pure creature,
Suppois that he hed maid sum forfature,
And als had eye þat lufe in money wayis
Gerris mony wise man oft tyme do folyse—
For oft tyme seis þat dedis of nature
Puttis lyfe and saull oft tymes in eventure—
Than said the king, “Sen þow excusis the,
Sayand that lufe has hed of þe maiestre,
Here I forgiff þe frelie, with gud will,
And pace and grace with mercie gevis the till,
And to þai ladie I sall mak request
That lufe for lufe scho grant the at the leist.”

165

And grate rewarde and giftis till him gaif,
And send him to his maister sound and saue.
Than Alexander þare till his lordingis said,
“Wele war þe prince þat mony sic men had:
He was sa bauld ane sprite and gud corrage,
It war wele like he war of hie parrage.”
Than Dare traistit his trety was for nocht
That he before be his epistill had socht:
This may men se, and oft tymes it [is] kend,
That fals tressoun oft cummys foul till end.

Off þe ansure of þe epistill of Dare

To Dare sone come þe answering
Of his epistill fra Alexander þe king,
The quhilk quhan he had hard and vnderstude,
His hart ourethrew, and mengillit flesche and blude;
And saw þare wald nane wther be remede
Bot with ane power fecht quhill he war dede—
New warnying send till all [his] fryndis hale,
And sett him all to gif the thrid battell.
Ane new pistill to Porrus send he,
The quhilk to here it was a grete piete,
With sic regrett and lamentatioun
That it till here was grete compassioun,
Sayand, sen he wist his natevetie,
And þat baith king and emprioure was he,
And now to be ourethrawin in his eild
With ane strangere, þat was ane vncouth childe,
Ane bastarde, quhilk baith ane theif and revare was,
That quytly all his land distroyit has,
And slane his men into sa grete quantetie,
Be thousandis, þat grete pietie was to se;
And þat he was mare like ane wyld tyran,
Like till ane lioun rampand him allane,
“And hes na piete of na manis blude,
Na has na dantye of na warldis gude,
Na settis nocht by þe gold mare na þe schellis,
Bot till haue maistres—he biddis no thing ellis.
He rampis and ragis euer as dois tempest—

166

It [is] weill like þat lang he may nocht leist:
As wynd into þe sey makis the waw,
Sa garris his cruelte his hart ourethraw.
He may nocht lest bot gif he batale haue—
He will de, or be maister oure the laiff;
And I traistis wele, and he maistry haue of me,
The next þat he sall sett on salbe ȝe.
He hes my moder, sisteris, and dochter dere
As presonaris with him sen he come heir;
My wiffe is dede for sorrow and diseis,
My selff and all my fryndis at maleis,
My men ar drownit in Tigre the ryver—
Off my best men wele saxte thousand nere,
Baith hors and men vnder the iy[c]e away—
And all ȝoure oliphantis dede on ane day.
I can nocht witt quho þat this thing sould be,
Bot with goddis he had sum specialetie:
Sum sayis he is the goddis son Aymoun,
Quhilk with his moder maid maternatioun,
For all oure estir goddis halely
Ar turnit to him, and grantit him victory,
For þai þat woinit war to mak ansureing,
Sen he come heir, to me will speik na thing.
I haue profferit him halff of my land,
And governe all quhill þat I am liffand,
And tak my dochter to his spousit wife,
And to be lord of all eftir my liffe,
With all þe gold þat euer my fader wan
In Tartary, Nube, and Madean:
Off þis proffering no more he lattis
Na of the herbe þat stampit vnder his fete is.
Quharefore I pray ȝow send me ansuering
Quhat best war to be done in þis thing,
For certanly I can nane vthir rede
Bot into batal fecht with him to dede.
He biddis me mak soueranenyte,
And hald of him, and subiect to him be,
Bot, or it war repruffe to my lynnage
That I sould cowartlie mak till homage
That hes distroyeit myne men and myne empire,

167

Ȝitt had I levar be brynt in ane bale fire:
Tharefore haue piete of my hard fortoun,
Of my distres, of my distructioun,
And send me of ȝoure helpe with all mycht,
And all þe gold that I till him hes hecht
It salbe ȝouris, and all þat we may wyn,
And be ȝoure seruandis I and all my kyn,
And ȝe sall haue the coursoure Bussifall,
The presoneris, and all the honoure hale.”

The ansure of the epistill of Dare

Quhen Radagone, þe modere of King Dare,
Had hard of þis, hir hart was grevit sare,
And wald of na wise batall mare sould be,
For scho had knawin be hir divinitie
That Alexander was ordand be fortoun
Off all þis wardlit to haue domynatioun,
And till hir son ane epistill þan scho send,
In this maner, and maid it til him kend:

“Quene Radagone, the kyngis dochter of Ynde,
Emprise of Pers, with all þat appertynde,
Till Dare the emprioure, my dere son sueitt,
Salute, with grace and growing, I þe grete;
I haue hard tell quho þat þow purposis the
With Alexander in batall for to be:
It is nocht, I do the weill to witt;
I the require þow sett the nocht for it,
For þocht þow mocht allhale þe wardlit raly
In ane battall into þai cumpaney,
Thow sould na fortoun of na victore haue
Off him, na mare þan þow has of þe laif:
The goddis has him grantit victory,
Off all this wardlit to haue the seingȝorie.
The goddis will no more þat þai renge endure—
I traist þow has þame maid sum forfature.
Tharefore declyne a litill fra þ[i]ne hicht,
And pride the no more in þi strenth and micht—
For mekill pride and wane glore in ȝeutheid,
I drede me sare ane pure man he has maid.
Latt be all þis, and draw þe concordance:

168

Quhat skaith may it the to mak obedience
And hald of him? Þis will nocht lest all-wayis—
Percase þow may recover efter his dayis;
His werde mon ryn, and bettir is bow n[a] brek—
Sum will all tyne that wenys to wyn and wrek.
Latt be þai hicht sum thing, and law þai hart,
And trete with him, and be with him towart—
He is gentill, quha will [þ]am till him meik,
And richt creuell quhan men will on him seik;
He has ws done grete wourschip and honoure,
And but diffame ledis ws in all favoure.
Now fare-wele, son, and, for my benesoun,
Concorde with him, and be at vnyoun.
I drede me sare for drede of sum vengeance
Sall fall ws all for þai mysgovernance:
Thow has þai princis and lordis haldin at vnder—
Suppois þai left þe battall, war na wounder;
Thow makis vp law men of carlis kynd,
Sum never blyith blossum of ane wikkit kynd;
Thai gaddering of þai gold and þai riches
With covatyse garris þe be louit les;
Off lordis þow has maid desherising,
And rich[tw]is boundis brocht in governyng,
The quhilk I dout me þow sall rew full sare,
And lat repent the quhen þow may no mare.”
Bot King Dare to þis epistill tuke no sett,
Sayand of wyffis witt in war no rett,
And for þe batall ordand him in hy,
And all his powar gadderit halely,
Thinkand þat he sould wele revengeit be,
Or with his honoure in batall for to de.

Off þe thrid batall of Daris

Than Alexander, quhilk hard of þis gadering,
Was blaith, for he desirit no wþer thing
Bott batall ay, for sic was his nature—
Thare was his fortoun and gude aventure.
And he assemblit agane all his powar,
With freche men, þat newly was cummyn þare,
And send message and day of batall sett.

169

Dare tuke þe feild with all þat he micht gett—
He was wele ma nor ony tyme before,
For all the lordis þat had þare fryndis lore
Had sic ane fed at Alexander þat þai
Tha[re] come with all the power þat thai may.
And Alexander gart spy þame on ane hill,
Thare quantete, þat he micht cum þame till,
And gart his men bind brenchis of grene treis
On þare hors leggis, evin vp to the kneis,
And his futt-men abone þare fete alsua;
The branchis of grene treis wippit þai,
To rais the powder and the duste wele mare,
That thai sould wene that þai ma pepill war,
For quhan the powder strak vp in þe hevin,
Thai semyit ma na þai war be sic sevin;
The dry powder oure all the cuntrie spred,
Quhilk maid King Daris batall sa addred
Tha[t] in dispare þai enterit in þe sicht—
Bot oft in were happinnis baith hap and slicht.
Syne tuke the furreouris all the catall
Quhilk brocht was to the ost for þare victall,
And in the samyn maner did þame till,
And gart fute-gromes drive þame to ane hill,
As it had bene a bidand standand stale,
To helpe gif neid war to þe grete batall;
Quhilk semyit be þe dust sa grete menȝe
Thai mervellit quhare þir men sould gottin be.
Quhen Daris men had sene þat sicht,
Thay war all reddie for to tak the flicht,
Bot þare was mony wourthy princes þare,
Quhilk would nocht fle quhill þai ourthrawin war.
The fecht begouth, þe stoure was stiff and lang:
Thare was ten thousand cartis thame amange,
With mulis and with camelis cupplit fast,
And barrit about with stelit hukis traist,
Fer mare na fychtis, scharpe as ane rasoure,
With trumpettis and cloch-boggis drivin in myd þe stoure.
And wend þai sould haue passit to the batall,
Bot Alexanderis batall stude sa hale

170

That of þe formest [f]eyast þai gart fall,
And on the henmest cartis ay þai call,
With sound of trumpis, and baith with stab and strake,
Quhill bakwart on þare awne battall þai brak,
And rave baith hors and men ilkane of vthir,
That of thame all nocht ane mycht helpe ane vthir,
And ay the trumpis blew vncessandly.

The Grekis in battall stude sa sturdelie,
Thai faucht stoutly, þare hartis war þare awne—
Thai had levar de na fle or be ourethrawne.
Quhen þai had fochtyn lang, and mony slaine,
And Dare his men saw ourthrawin agane,
He was discomfort, and wald fane haue bene dede;
He for-wraith in-till his skyn, and schuke his hede,
And said, “Allace, þat euir I bare a croun,
Or ever was king or lord of toure or toun!”
And on his brest his nevis he couth ding,
And spurrit his stede and drave furth in a ling,
With spere strekit, in myddis of þe stoure,
For he was hardy man, of gret valoure.
Bot oft men seis, quhen werde and fortoun falȝeis,
Thare is na strenth na stoutnes þat avalȝeis:
Fra werdis will, all mon ga till ane end,
Quhilk be King Dare þat day wele was kend.
To here quhat siching, sobbing, and granyng
Off woundit men, it was ane hidduous thing,
And syne the cry, the clamoure, and the grow—
Thare was na hart bot it wald pers it throw.
Thus all the day it drew oure to þe nycht;
Than Daris men begouth to tak the flicht,
Sum to the cietie of Persipholim,
Sum to the woddis, and richt few bad with him.
And he him purposit in þe feild to de,
For of his lyffe na thing more rekkit he;
Bot sum of his menȝie him counsellit sua
That him war bettir to the ciete ga,
For it micht fall sum gude trety mycht be.
This counsale gart him ta the bak and fle;
And richt as he was passand to the place,

171

His men all fleand and discomfist was:
The hukis cartis, with the fichis, bedene
Fled with the laif, and all hame wald haue bene;
And quhan þai ran þe nycht, oure glak and glen,
Thai maid sic murthure on the fleand men
That þai lay dede be thousandis in the way.
Thus chaistyit fra þare awne landis war þai,
That sic was lyke ane vengence for to be,
Quhilk God thame send for þare iniquitie.
The schott was thik as owder hale or rane;
The men sa thik lay in the feild slane,
Sum stragglit, sum in hepis and lumpis lay,
That wounder few ȝede with þare livis away,
That, as the actoure of his story recordis,
In thai thre batallis þai deit ma men and lordis
Na ever did sen this wardlit first formit was
Vnto this day throw were in batalle place,
Na ȝitt sa mekill of mennis blude was sched
In sa schort tyme, was nevir in batall sted;
For as in wrett the story witnes beris,
Thare deit in Alexander and Daris weris,
That in thre ȝeir began and endit sua,
Wele fyftene hundreth thousand men, and ma.

The prince þat counsollit King Dare for to fle
Was rede that he in battall tane sould be,
And mak concorde and trety with the king;
And to bak him of all his governyng,
He was to Dare maist speciall counsollere,
Off laulie birth, and lete nane vþer his pere—
He had the governance of him al-hale,
And did nothing withoutin his counsale.
And fell with him in talking be þe way,
He and his feris, quhilk five or foure war þai,
As þai war fleand towart the ciete;
The king said he tocht for to revengit be
Off thame quhilk had mysgouernit his batall,
Quhilk had the conduct of his counsale hale.
With that þai start till him, and hynt in hand—
With sarpis of gold and chenȝeis þai him band;
Quhan thai had done, þai gaif him dedis wound,

172

And straik him doun, and left him on þe ground,
And furthwith þai past on hame to the ciete—
It was so lait, þare micht no man þame se.
With this, the king began to mak his mane
And his regratt, þus liand him allane;
With þat þare come ane knicht quhilk wele him knew,
Off his howshald, and nere þe king he drew;
And sperit the cais, and he tald him alhale
Quha counsalit him to fle fra the batall,
And syne him murderit in þis maner,
And chenȝeit him, and left him liand here;
And syne he hard thame say in þare talking,
To get revard at Alexander the king
Thai had it done, in hoip of his frendschip,
To get at him baith land and gude lordschip,
And of his speciall counsale for to be,
And as þai did, to governe the ciete.
Than sand the king þat knicht rycht hastaly
Till Alexander, and prayit him specialie
Till cum and speik with him at his ending,
As he þat was a wourth prince and king,
“For the honoure of his royall maiestie,
To here me speik, and tak exampill of me.”

Quhan Alexander had hard of þis tressoun,
Come to the King Dare quhair he was strikin doun,
And saw him ly, his woundis vnhelit bare,
And all his blude was bled about him þare;
He lichtit doun, and in his armyis him tuke—
For egirnes he trymlit and he qu[u]ke—
And said, “Allace! quha hes this tressoun done?”
And swore be him þat maid baith sone and mone
That, and he wist, sic vengeance tak sould he
That sould exempill till all tratouris be.
He gart tak claythis and bind his woundis fast,
And tuke his mantel of him, and on him cast,
And in his armys vp he helde his hede—
He had sa blede that he almoist was dede.
He gart him drink, and ette ane sop of wyne;
He blenkit vp, and spak wele efter syne,
And said, quhan he the king saw him beforne,

173

“Full wele is me þe tyme that I was borne—
Thy cummying here mekill hes recoimfort me:
Now am I blaith in þai armys to de.”
The goldin chenȝie of his armys tua
He loussit of, and of his feitt alsua,
And sperit at him quha hed þis tressoun wrocht:
“And I may witt, full dere it salbe bocht.”
He said, “Thai war my cosingis and my kyn,
Myne awne seruandis, quhome maist I traistit in;
I put thame out of pouertie in riches,
And gouernit all my dedis, mare and les—
I traistit þame moist of my creatouris,
And now ȝe se sic ar myne aventuris.
Bot Alexander, þow has ane fare myrroure,
To luke to me, and think of my dollour,
And pride the no thing in þai senȝeory,
In þai fare fortoun, na in þai victory;
Latt nother gold nor riches change þai tocht,
Na sett þa[i] hart on thing þat lestis nocht,
For all is bot vane glore and vanyte,
And evere the end is pane and pouertie.
Quha had mare glore in warldit nor I haue had,
Na mare victory, na ma conquestis has made,
Na mare riches, na warldis los and glore,
With cieteis, castellis, pallais, corne, and store?
Bot quhat may þis my malleis now amend?
I haue na claith to heild me at myne end,
Na hors na man, gold na vther gere,
To my last bed my bodie for to bere—
With wylde beistis my bodie had bene revin,
Had þow nocht here þai presens to me gevin,
Off quhilk I thank the, of þai grete gentrice;
Haue mynd and think on þis, and þow be wise.”

With that he sichit sare, and said, “Allace!
This warldit is bot ane vale of wikitnes,
Off quhilk the strynd is poisoun, verraly,
And quha that maist has, maist is vnhappy;
For wist vncely man his antris all,
And quhat mysfortoun in his [t]yme sould fall,
He sould neuer hafe blaith honoure in all his dayis,

174

Bot pray his God to send gud end alwayis,
For warldis glore, all lordschip and tresoure
Off all þis warldit sall tak end in ane [houre].”
And said, “Þow flesche, þow nature of mankynd,
Quhare gais þow now? in quhat land will þow leynd?
How art þow pur[v]ait? quhare thinkis þow to pas?
Quhame has þow send before to graith þai plais?
Thow had no mynd quhan þow was in þai glore
That þow suld nede to sen no man before;
Now lyis þow here, þe wrathe of wrathis all—
Thow has no man to ansure to þai call.
Quhare ar þai castellis and þai fare clething,
The beddis of gold quhare þai bodie lay in?
Quhare ar þai ladyis and þai dochteris dere,
Thay wiffe, þi moder, and þai sisteris clere?
Now may þ[ow] sicht and say, baith air and laitt,
‘Adew, fare weill, the palleice desolate,
Adew my ioy, adew my warldis blis—
The end of all my ioy now cummyn is;
Now sall I never haue mare gud, evin na morrow;
Now se I wele all ioy endis with sorrow.’
Thus is þis warldit, hes bene, or euer sall be—
All erdlie man exampill may tak be me.”

With that the teris tiglit oure his ene,
And he in swonying lay vpone þe grene;
Than Alexander agane him tais,
With teris wete recomforte to him mais,
Sayand, “Fair lord, be blaith, and mak gud chere;
Ȝe may wele leiff—ȝe salbe hale and fere;
Ȝe salbe king and lord as of before—
I hecht treulie I sall ȝow hale restore
Landis and lordschippis, with kynrik and kingdome,
With all honouris, wourschip, and fredome;
And I sall hald þe as fader to me,
And I bot as þai sone and air salbe:
Off all þai landis þow salbe lord and syre,
Richt as before þow held in hale empire—
Thare sould no king nor prince ioyus be
To sene ane wther prince throw tressoun dee.”

Than Dare, þat hard him spek [sa] graciusly,

175

Recomfort was, and previt him swetelie
To lift his armes, þe king for till embrace,
Bot, for his handis baith of cuttit was,
With baith the stompis he colard him so fast,
And kissit his mouth, and said him at þe last,
“God thank þe, lord, of þi wourthy gentrice—
Now se I wele þow art wourthy and wise;
And here I mak þe lord of all my land,
Baith king and empreoure, and all-weledand;
Here I gif þe my dochter to þi wayffe—
Thow watt I haue nane vther are on liffe;
Here I mak pace with Grece and Macedone,
And all the c[har]ge I lay the here apoun,
To kepe iustice, and kepe baith lufe and pace
Betuix þi landis and landis þat myn was;
And chargis all my men the till obey,
Fra Ynde Maior vnto the Occiane Sey,
And leiffis the here my septir and my croun,
My air, my dochtir, and my benesoun.”
With þat the teris oure his chekis past,
And in the kingis armes gaue the gast.

Than Alexander dissimilit teris swete,
And all the pepill—þare micht nane hald for grete.
Than Alexander behelde him quhair he lay,
Gart tak him and bare his corpis away,
And had him to the tempill þat we of spak,
Quhilk was riche and marvellus of mak [OMITTED]
And to the tempill gaif grete tressoure,
And gart gane with him all the lordis haill,
And all the pepill þat come fra the batalle;
And quhan he was liand in sepulture,
And all the tempill full was to the dure,
Than Alexander said, “Lordingis, tak gud hede—
All princis sould tak exempill be þis dede;
Havis eye to this, and thinkis quhat ar we:
Lordschip is nocht bot vane and vanetie,
And all foly los, honoure, and prowes,
And ay grete charge followis gret riches—

176

War nocht þir goddis þis charge hes gevin to me,
I sould neuer cum in batalle quhill I dee,
Na neuer bare crone, na nevir haue governying,
Bot liff ane sobir liffe to my ending;
Bot sen I haue the charge, I man do,
That it be honoure all my elderis to.
For, suppois I wauld forsaik my ordinance,
Per-cace ane wer mycht cum in governance;
For traistis wele, þis thingis þat I haue done
Cummis nocht of me, bot fra the Hevin abone.
Behald to him þat ȝeisterday þis houre
Off all this wardlit sumtyme was conquerioure,
And now ȝe quho lauly that he lyis.
Quhai may be sikker to be nocht in þis wise?
Quharefore me think we suld attoure all thing
Bere ws meikly, and think on oure ending,
And all suppois we haue grete governance,
Wey witt and honoure baith in ane ballance.”

Than Alexander ane moneth restand was,
Amange his men departand the riches,
For, as men sayis, þai fand sa gret tressoure
That nane þare was micht nowmer the messoure.
Syne come the king and satt in iugment,
As Dare had ordand be his testament,
In-to the paleice of Persipolym,
Quhare all the princis semblit þare to him,
And maid obediance and souer[ayn]te,
Att his command and governance to be.
The quhilk pallas was maid of sic a wise,
It passit mannis witt for to devise
The forme, the maner, riches, and fassoun,
Quhilk passit all wther, but comparesoun:
The wallis all war merbil and allabast,
And all within with plate of gold ourepast,
With riche ymagis of gold sidlingis þe wall,
Off emprioure the sege emperiall,
With riche crovnis of pretious perrery;
And all the pillaris full of ymagery,
Off batallis and of storeis of ancestry,
Off Excerses, and Syrus þe wourthy;

177

And all the ruffe oure-silit was with gold
And pretius stanis, maist michty of þe mold,
Off charbunkill, þat schynis nycht and day—
In sternis of gold wele annamald war þai;
And all the flure with iasper and cassidone
Was tablit all, with tapis gold-begone.
Than Alexander, in goldin trone settand,
With crone on hede and septure in his hand,
Was crovnit new with thame agane of Pers,
And statute þat all realmes suld convers
All-ways togidder, but divisioun,
Quhare he hes se or dominatioun,
And all merchandis frelie cum and ga,
Baith men of were and laboraris alsua;
And men of were ilkane to defend wther,
And tak ane part, as þai war kin and broder.
And till his pepill, and till his legis dere,
He send ane epistill, quhilk was in þis maner:

“Kyng Alexander, the king of kingis all with croun,
And son verray to the grete Aymoun,
And till Olympias, his moder dere,
Till all of oure obediance, fer and nere,
Off Pers þat land, of Grece and Massidone,
Quhilk God has gevin ws gouernance apoun,
Greting in God, with pace and vnyte:
We will þat all the wayis opin be
Till cum and ga, till all maner of men,
That everie frynd may tell his frynd him ken,
In conversatioun and in merchandice;
And in all landis to kepe law and iustice,
To kirk, to comownis, and to labouroure,
Vnder the panis of dede and forfatoure;
All fede and actiouns of þe tyme bygane
Be all forgevin, and all landis be ane.
We wauld ȝow charge to mak ioy and blythnes,
War nocht the diseis and the havynes
We ar in-till, for the gret multitude
Off mannis dede, and the distructioun of blude,
Off quhilk we micht nocht mak effusioun

178

Bot Goddis will and his promissioun—
For traistis wele, ȝoure faltis and ȝoure mysdede,
And of ȝour lordis, þat sould ȝoure lawis lede,
Has grevit God in His hie maiestie,
And þus to punys ȝow has ordand me;
For ȝe wate wele I am ane mortall man,
And all this los and victory that I wan,
I had nevir win, suppois I war sic sevin,
War nocht the powar send fra the hie Hevin,
For everie mannis dede and gouernance
Is rewlit be His hevinly influence.”

Than Alexander commandit all silence,
And stude vp hie, and askit audience,
Sade, “Lordingis, a thing I wauld ȝow say:
Ȝe wate quho King Dare þis hendir day
Was slane with men into the battalle place,
And I couth nevir gett witting quha þat was;
I wauld with gude will witt quha þat sould be,
For the grete proffeitt þat þai haue done to me—
To cum to me I wauld nocht þat þai spard,
For þai haue servit to me ane grete reward,
For, will þai cum to me in ȝoure presence,
I sall thame do sic stede and reverence,
And thame reward sa hie and michtelie,
And do sic wourschip as þai war wourthy,
That hes me helpit thus in my mister,
To sla my fa, and mak end of þe were.”

Than all the pepill grette for displesance,
That he had hecht reward and forgiffnance;
With that come furth ane prince was callit Bissus,
And before all the counsale spekis þus,
Sayand, “Fare lord, hie king and emprioure,
For þai wourschip and for þai hie honoure,
I and my feris tuke þis dede to be done,
To ger þe sitt into the hieast trone.”
Syne come þare furth Heliaȝar and Ionas,
Quhilk feris to him into the mu[r]dere was:
Than said the king, “Lay handis on þame sone,
For, be gret God þat is in Hevin abone,
I sall neuer in my hart reiosit be

179

Quhill hangit, drawyn, and hedit be ȝe thre.”
Than ansurit Bissus, sade, “Lorde, kepe þat þow hecht
That þow ws made, as þow ar king and knycht,
For kingis hecht suld be ferme, and als stabill,
And all his wourdis sould be weritabill.”
Than said the king, “It þat I hecht, treuly,
It salbe kepit to ȝow aluterlie,
For I hecht to reward ȝow michtely,
And do sic wourschip as ȝe war wourthy,
And all men wate ȝe ar wourthy be law
As tratouris, murtheraris, baith to hing and draw,
For ȝoure maister, ȝoure souerane king and lorde—
Sic is ȝoure fee, sic is ȝour richt reward.
How sould ane strenger in ȝow trow or traist,
Quhan ȝe dissauit þat lippynnit in ȝow maist?”
And thare but mare gart bind thame hand and fute—
To speik of grece to thame, it was na bute.

Than said Bissus, “Þare sould na cowart subtelle
In kingis hecht with falsett coverit be:
We wnderstude þat oure reward sould be
Landis and lordischipis, castellis, gold, and fee,
For as þi worde schew, all men vnderstude—
Thow sould on na wayis change ws ille for gude.”
Than said the king, “Na hecht sould kepit be
Agane gud faith, law, richt, and weretie,
Gude thewis, honeste, na richt iustice,
For all this to the croun is preiudice.
The king first [takis] ane aith to God and law—
The first aith to be kepit first aw;
Als myne entent is nocht, quhat-eveir I say,
To sic ane creule tresoun vnpunyst passit away;
And quhan ane prince makis ony promissioun,
It sould be tane be his intentioun,
For nane can mak interpretatioun
Off mannis wow and his coniurisoun
Sa wele as can him-selff quhilk maid the vow,
As in this cace it standis with me now.”
And thare furthwith, withouttin mare delay,

180

Baith hingit, drawin, and hedit sone war þai,
And all thare hedis sett on stantiouns hie,
Abuffin the graiff quhare Dare sould erdit be,
And all thare quarteris hingit vp and doun
Att the portis and enteris of þe toun.
The pepill saw the prudence of the king,
And fra thyne furth þai luffit him oure all thing,
And louit him as wourthy emprioure,
Off all this wardlit wourth to be governoure.

The pepill all of þis dede war fane;
Apoun the morne þai semblit all agane,
And thare the king, into the plane parliament,
Quhare all the leid of all his land was lent,
In habite riall sittand in goldin trone,
With stentis of gold on all sydis and abone,
Gert rede before him Daris testament,
Quhare he was sittand into iugment,
And how that he had gevin him his dochter fare,
And left him all his land, as lorde and are;
And gart bring furth his dochter, fare of face,
Quhilk ane of þe farest creatouris was
That in þai tymes was livand vpone live,
The quhilk was ordand for to be his wiffe,
In claithis riche quhilk cumly wele was clad;
Emenedus and Tholome hir led—
Apoun hir hede scho bare ane precius croun.
Beside the king in chare sett scho doun,
And þare furth[with] þai maid the mariage
Before the ladis kyn and hir parage,
To hald and haue vntill his levis end;
And ilkane prayit þat God His grece wald send
Wele for to governe þe sege of þe maiestie,
And in his liff [---] and wele to de.
All officeris syne he ordanid in þat stede,
In his absence þe lawis for to lede,
And Duricus, quhilk Daris vncle was,
He made all duke and governoure of Pers—
He was wele louit, and wourthy man of law,
And helde the pepill baith in luffe and aw:
He was wele louit for his gudelynes,

181

And dred, for he favorit na wikkitnes.

The pepill saw þat he him governit þus,
And wend he had bene God the glorius,
And fell on kneis, and him anornit hale,
And with ane voce þai cryit in generale,
“Welcum be Alexander, in Godis name!”
And he rais vp in wreith, and thocht grete schame,
And blamyt thame, gart thame rise and lat be,
Sayand, “I am a mortall man as ȝe—
It semys nocht ane sinful creatoure,
That subiect is to dedis of nature,
To tak in hart sa grete presumptioun
To think him lyke in his comparisoun
Fra the goddis to tak thare dewiteis,
For þai ar all immortale, as men seis;
Bot we may wele þe barnis of goddis be,
Takand of thame oure gudnes and bounte.”

This feist contenit [fiftene] dayis hale,
With iusting, dansing, halkyn, and revell;
Syne till his moder letteris sendis he,
And all his fryndis in þe west cuntre,
And tald thame of his wourschip and honoure
That he had wonn, and off þe gret tressoure.
And als to Arestotill, his maister dere,
He wrete ane pistolle, in forme as followis here,
Telland quho he was nocht lorde alanerlie
Off Pers throw batalle and victory,
Bot lord and empriour of gift in parliament,
And are left to King Dare in testament,
And Roxanen his dochter left him till,
And all his landis and lordschipis, with gud will;
And prayand Arestotill, with rycht gud will,
That in all haist he would him speid him till,
And bring him tythingis fra his moder dere,
And conforte hir, and gar hir mak gude chere.

Arestotill than, quhilk was richt stratly sted
With ane lady quhilk lang tyme luffit he had,
Was laith to travell our of þat country,
His hart sa haly on hir sett had he.
Scho best belouit was sum tyme with the king,

182

For he had hir lang tyme in mantenying;
In Macedone with his moder scho was,
And best belouit with Quene Olympias,
Quhilk, in þe first growin of þare amorois,
Scho gart the king stand in the hiest toure,
Quhen Aristotill hir first desirit had,
And in ane garding tryist scho till him made,
To mete hir arely in ane May mornyng,
In that gardin to here þe foulis sing,
Sayand he sould haue þare his hartis list
In that garding; þat nane bot þai tua wist;
And als to Arestotill scho gart trow
That in that tyme scho maid ane rekles vow
That nevir man sould haue of hir his list
To ride on hir, bot gif scho rade him first,
With sadill and brydill girdit wele and fast;
Quhilk Arestotill consentit at the last,
And he him-selff the riding gere sould gett,
And on his bak þe sadill scho sould sett,
And als the bridill buklit in his [hevid]—
Sa was his witt with beaute fra him revid.
The tryist was haldin and kepid in þe kynd,
Bot Arestotill of na tressoun had mynde—
He was sa blyndit with hir hie bewtie,
He roucht bot his will of hir hade hie.
And in ane gardeing þai mette, in ane mornying;
Bot scho had warnit the ladyis and the king—
And nane of þame had of ane wther witt,
Sa sutelly with slicht scho governit it—
And ordand thame to sitt in-till ane toure,
Quhare þai micht se, and lete þame witt the houre.
And tymly in a Maii mornying him mette,
In-to the garding quhare that the triste was sett;
He kepit tryist, and come be tyme of day,
And in ane herbere þare in the garding lay,
Quhill that scho come hir cunnandis for to kepe.
And Arestotill vpoun hir tuke gude kepe—
Scho was sa lusty in hir portratoure,
Mare angelike na erdely creatoure:

183

Scho was baith round and polist, in gude plyte;
Ane sark scho had, of silkyn sandele quhite;
Hir cirtill syne was of ane claith of gold,
With precious stanis, most rich[e]lie to behald;
Ane mantill syne of grene dowall velwatt—
The bordouris all with pretious stanis war sett;
Hir hare was fare broun, lokerand, but a kell,
And tharein sett ane pretious crounell;
All bare fute, in hir hand a matyne buke—
It was a lusty sicht on hir to luke.

Quhat was þare more, bot he was saidlit sone,
And scho lap on, withouttin langare hone,
And syne scho rad the garding round about;
With that the ladyis sone þai gaif ane schout,
And als the king a litill dryly smylit.
Than Arestotill leit him richt evill begilit,
And vp he rais, and of the gere couth rais,
And tocht for till haue slane hir in þe place;
Bot or he micht þe sadill fra him lay,
Scho lap the garding oure þe narrest way.
He was sa wa þat witles nere he wedis,
And him repentit of his rekles dedis;
And syne in wraith he passit fra the king,
And to him wrett how lufe ourcummys all thing;
And thareof made a buke into þat place,
How mony kyndis of paramouris þare was,
And of gude women and þare gude thewis,
And how vise men ar dissauit with schrewis.
And sic ane vengeance ordand he to take,
Sen hiddirwart þat neuer was sene þe make,
For money a thousand sic wemen sen þat day
Was with his clerkis oure-riddin, I dar wele say,
And daly dois, and euermare sall do,
Bot sum assith be made þe party to.
And quhan the king þe tressoun saw contr[o]vit,
His hart fra hir was halely removit,
Na neuir eftir plesance of hir he tuke,
Na with gud will wald nevir vpoun hir luke;
Bad Arestotill take hir and do his [l]est,
And punnys hir how euer him likit best;

184

Than, efter all thing wele amendit was,
Scho luffit him best, and maist was in his grace.

Efter the conquest of Pers

Quhen Alexander had m[ai]d his conquest hale
Off Pers, and tane þe croun imperiall,
And in þat countrie maid his ordinance,
And all his conquest put in governance,
Fra Ynde Maior vnto the Sey Occiane,
Than furthwith in his conquest for to gane
He purpoist him, and ordand his menȝe
To pas in oisting, baith be land and sey:
Till Ynde Maior he tuke his first awise,
And stent neuer quhill he come to Paradise;
And syne agane the way to Babilone,
Or evir he tocht to cum to Macedone,
Throw all desertis, throw woid and wildernes,
And for to se all marvellis þat thare was.
Oure all þis warld his wourschip and gud fame
Begouth to spred, that he wan sic a name
That all the wourthy men, baith fer and nere,
For he wourschip drew all to his banere.

Than Arestotill, quhilk newly cuming was
Fra Macedone, fra Quene Olimpias,
Had brocht him tythingis of his moder dere,
Quhilk blaythit him, and bauld him make gud chere;
The king lovit Arestotill attoure all thing,
For he was evir cheif of his governying.
Alexander alsua knew wele the cais,
How be goddis fortunyit that he was,
And quhat wertew in his persoun had he
He knew richt wele be his natiuite,
And knew als be his constellatioun
His hie conquest, his wourschip and renoun,
And quho he micht with counsale governit be,
Sa wele temperit in all vertew was he;
And how that he was till all strenth abill,
And als vicis helde as abhominable—
For as tostit sop ressavis sone the wyne,

185

Sa was his hart to hie wertew inclyne;
His will, his witt, his inclinatioun,
Was sett in wourthynes to win renovun,
And for to conquest the barbarianis,
And haue thame in subiectioun all attanis,
To convert thame fra ydolatrie,
Quhilk trowit in beistis and in malmentrie:
For Arestotill traist euer-mare þat he
Was ordand as ane wand of God to be,
To chasty wikkit men of þare folyis,
That wauld neuer be chastid in vther wise,
Quhilk of grete God immortale had na mynde,
Bot turnit þare creature in ane vþer kynd,
In sindrie wayis, as efterward apperis
Off thare custumys into the thrid buke þat here is.

Than rais thare grete invie in everie syde,
Baith men of Ynde, þat war of mekill pride,
And als of Ethiope and of Caldey,
Off Tartary and of ylis in þe sey,
And money ane land þa[t] he fand eftirwarte,
Off quhilkis salbe declarit here sum part.
And with that he mystraistit þame of Pers,
And dred with thame oure hamely to convers,
For thai war richt crewell men, and richt hie sett,
And oft in batall with him sare had mett,
And of thame slane sa grete ane multitude
He micht neuer traist þare will to him gude:
Quhat princis that puttis a pepill to rewyne,
Suld neuer traist oure mekill in þame syne.
Tharefore he tocht, or he past forther mare,
For till vndo þare princis, les and mare,
And all the lordis that he mystraist had in,
And þat with force and rigoure þame to win.

Than Arestotill ansurid, and said him na;
“Thow sall forthink and rew full sare ane day;
Bot schape to win þame with benignitie,
For hardy hart vald neuer oure-thrawne be—
Giff thame grete giftis, and command thare prowes;
Thus sall ȝe win þare hartis with largis,
For covatise men best oure-cummyn be

186

With larges, fredome, and liberaletie.
Thus sall ȝe wyn þare hartis and spend na thing,
Bot giff þame giftis of thyne awne conquesting;
Sic thing to deill, the behuffis on fors—
Thow may nocht all dispend apon thyne awne cors:
Quha coveittis for to kepe all his conquest,
Traist wele, his lordschip may nocht land tyme l[e]st.
Thow sall neuer wyn of force all thare ententis,
Bot giff þow mycht change all þare elementis,
Thare influence and constellatioun,
Quhilk governis fra the hevinlie regioun doun;
And gif þow may nocht change the hevin abufe,
Latt be þai force, and wyn thare hart with luffe.
Thare emperioure was full of gredines,
And þow art all inclinit to larges,
And thai ar gredy, and sett in covatise:
Thus may ȝe wyn wele, and ȝow be wise;
And, all suppois ȝe wauld in þi furoure
Distroye þame all, it brekkis þ[i]ne honoure,
For thai ar now alhale in þi dangere,
And vencust man is bot ane presoner,
And litill [---] war for to gar de
Ane presonoure, þat he ȝoldin be.
Grete wourschip is to prince to haue mercy
Quhen wonnying is ourehand or victory,
Bot with þi gudis þow may thame conquest best,
Syne kepe þi-selff, and traist thame as þe lest;
Syne efter, quhan þai knew all þi prudence,
Thay witt, þi wisdome, and thyne excellance,
Than sall thai be full fane the till empleis,
And sall thame wyn with wisdome, at þ[i]ne eis.”

The ordinance and gouernance of Pers

Than Alexander, as we haue said before,
[Gart] sembill all his princis him before,
And to thame gaif grete lordschipis and grete landis,
And helde na thing bot vourschip in his handis:
Till laware men he gaif baith gold and gere,

187

Quhilk [he] had wonnying before into þat were.
Quhan thai persauit the gentrice of þe king,
How he was sett to larges oure [all] thing,
He wan þare hartis and thare seruice hale,
To liff and de with him in his battale,
And newlingis made him fewta and lawte,
Euer in his seruice for to liff and de.
Till Roxanen his spous he powar gaif,
To be obeyit in his stede oure þe laif,
In Pers, in Grece, in Tyre, and Macedone,
With all the landis þat pendis þame apoun.
Traist wele, quha sayis sede of wrecchitnes,
Sall neuer gaddir grewith of gudlynes,
And quha but fredome schapis to mak conquest
Sall tyne honoure, and wyn him-selff vnrest.

Syne ordand he his battallis at devise,
As he that was in were hardy and wise:
Off Pers he ordand ane grete battall to be,
Ane vther of Tyre and Gadderis ordand he,
On athir side to be, as wenngis twa—
His traist was ȝitt bot litill in nane of þai.
In his awne battalle was Grece and Macedone,
For euer his traist was maist þame apoun:
Into the vangarde was Emenedone,
With money ane wourthy knicht and bauld barroun;
Into the reregarde sett he Tholome,
With thame of Egipte and of Hermenee;
The douȝeperis in the kingis battalle was,
For to supplie gif neid war at þe p[rei]s,
Ilkane ten thousand at his governying,
Euer at ane nede for to supplie the king;
Five thousand skippis with his artillereȝ,
With schot and armoure cummand be the sey,
With armit cartis, and gounnys in chariotts,
And bumbardis ma na past was in þe flotis.
Thay trumpit vp, and tuke þe feild anone,
And towart Ynde Maior þe way has tane.

Sa it befell i[n] myddil Ynde Maior þare was
Ane wedow quene, þat was richt fare of face—
Off Candis scho was quene and emprice—

188

Quhilk was ane wourthy woman, baith war and wise;
For the grete los, lordschip, and honoure
Quhilk scho hard of þat wourdie emprioure,
Scho gaif him sic ane fauoure and ane lufe
That scho hade levar, but schame, lake, or reprufe,
At his plesance a nycht with him convers
Na all the gold of Ynde Maior and Pers,
And kest the wayis how scho micht gett knawlege
Off his persoun, his stature, and his visage:
Sa purposit scho to send þare seutely
Ane payntoure, quhilk of craft was maid slichty,
To paynt his fessoun and his phisonomy,
With all the portratoure of his body;
And in hir secrete closett scho it held,
And everie day oft tymes it beheld.
Syne till him send scho grete ambassatry,
With giftis and rewardis richt michtelie,
Ane hunder palfrais, quhit as ony milk,
Sadillit and traippit all with gold and silk,
Fifty chariottis, all chargit with armorous,
Quhilk ordand war for lordis of honouris,
That is to say, with mas and hawbirgeounis,
Helems and scheildis of new fassounis;
Off grundin gold ten chareiottis scho send,
And vther ten of cunȝete for to spend,
And maid him homage and fewta for hir landis,
Thinkand till haue him till hir awne husband;
Quhareat the King of Ynde was grevit sare,
And tocht to mak hir were, with all powar.
Than had scho tua sonnys, suld be hir are,
Quhilk war baith wise, wourthy men, and fare,
And, becaus the land movit of hir syre,
For all hir liffe scho brokit þe empire,
And wauld neuer latt hir sonnys tak the croun,
Hir to degarde, na put hir honoure doun.

Than tuke the king in purpois for to pas
In Myddill Ynde, to helpe þe Quene Candas;
Off quhilk the way lay sum part throw Calde,
Nere by Dauriȝ, that was ane grete citie,

189

Off quhilk the lorde was callit Famear,
That worthely the king resauit þare,
And maid the king fewta and liege band,
Till halde of him his lordschip and his land.
Syne tuke the way to Turs, the grete ciete,
Quhare Quene Candas was wont duelland to be;
Thare on ane fare feild, fer fra ony towunys,
Nere ane forrest þai stynt þare pavilȝonis,
Endland ane ryvare, in ane fare cuntre,
To se the multitude of hir menȝe,
And lugit þare þat nycht and on þe morow,
An[d] ioyfull of that, had na tocht of sorrow.

And on the morne, als sone as day couth spring,
The king past furth to here þe foulis sing,
All him allane, on hors, as him tocht best,
Armit at all, with helme, spere, and scheild,
As he wauld pas to fecht in-till ane feild—
He wauld neuer ride bot he war armit at all,
For he wist nocht quhat anis micht him fall.
And as he past allane alanerlie,
Sa saw him cumand in ane rod him by
Ane mekill man, with berde and browis bere,
In habit blake, an ermit as he war:
Ane silkin how vnder his choll was knytt,
Ane bevar hatt apoun his hede was sett;
His gowun was of a grete roid cameta,
Side to the fute, and heremyte-like alsua;
Ane pare of grete bedis at his belt he bare;
Doun oure his schulderis in tatis hang his hare,
Nocht wele kemmyt, na haldin in daynte;
Ane matyne buke in-till his hand had he,
Ane pair of knoppit schone, of basan grete,
Withoutin hous, for birnying of his fete.

With that the king al sadlie halsit he
In maner of the langage of Calde;
The king revardit him into that tide,
And all his persoun graithlie he aspyit:
Ane mekill man he was, with schulderis bred,
In all his memberis vounder manlie made,
And like to be ane man in all degrie,

190

Suppois quhite are and man of eilde was he.
The king spak wele the langage of þe land,
And hade gud will to stand with him talkand,
And sperit fast of the state of þat countray,
And fane wald witt quhat kyn a man was he;
And he agane þe king fast coud espye,
And marvellit quhy he raid sa anerly.
The king said, “Fare sir, plesit it ȝow tell
Quhat is ȝoure name, quhare war ȝe wont to duell,
And quhat the caus is of ȝoure wandering here
In sic habit, alane, withoutin fere?”

The wourthy man ansurid richt curtestly,
For wourschip cummys euer of a man worthy,
For him [thocht] that the king apperit to be
A man of estate and of grete dignite:
He said, “Fare syr, I am of Calde borne,
Sa was my fader and my moder me beforne;
My broder was Gaudefer Dularis,
The quhilk deit in the weris of Duke Bites—
His dede has done me mekill dule and dere [OMITTED]
And haldis me here into ane heremytage,
To serue my God here in my lettir age,
To tak pennance vnto the day I de,
In this forrest to pray for him and me;
And till ane tempill, is callit tempill Marcus,
Euer-ilk day on morowus I ga thus,
To se seruice, and sacrefice to ma;
And all my liffe thinkis for to liff sua—
The dede of him has maid my hart sa sare—
And of all warldis ioy I bid no mare:
He was a lorde of land in þis cuntre,
Off Effeȝoun, with money ane grete citie.
And ȝitt a thing mare ekis my doloure—
He had a wiffe, a wourthy creatoure,
The quhilk to name was callit Elidas,
Off Gaderis, quhilk Duke Bites sister was,
Quhilk, fra that scho hard he was endit sua,
Scho eite neuer mete quhill hir harte brist in twa;
Scho has to him sonnys, fare and fre,

191

And ane dochter, the farest þat may be.

“Clarus, the King of Ynde, þat har hald hare,
Is cumyn to lay the sege with all powar
Till Effeȝoun, and makis vowis grete,
Bot he that ladie at his bandoun gett,
He sall neuer thyne quhill he þat citie wyn,
And hing and hede [all that he] findis þarein;
And hir desiris, and hir brether tua,
To save þare liffis, gif þai may chape sua.”

Quhan the king had hard all þis regrett,
The teris tigglit oure his chekis wett,
Quhan that he hard him speik of Gaudifere;
With that the knicht beheld him, and drew nere,
Sayand, “Swete syr, quhat menis þat at ȝe
Makis sic chere for the diseis of me?”
“Ȝis,” sayis the king, “Þat man þat ȝe of mene,
Þocht all the gold of Babelone myne had bene,
To haue him levand I wauld gif it hale,
To haue his fryndschip and his luffe speciall.”
Than said the knicht, “Fare syr, I ȝow require
The caus quhy ȝe cum þus waverand here,
And quhare ȝe duell, and into quhat cuntre,
For ȝe me seme ane man of grete dignetie,
And mervell is to me to se ȝow sua
In this forrest, withouttin feres ma—
Men sayis that Alexander the conqueroure
Is cumin in-to þis land to mak succoure,
And for to pas in Ynde in conquering,
For to mak were on auld Clarus the king;
Quharefore, sen ȝe speik langage of þis land,
Me think ȝe suld nocht pas alane thus waverand.
Thare ar the folk that hes my broder slane—
War nocht that caus, to pas thare I ware bound,
To ask supplie at him, for his honoure,
He hes sic name of wourschip and walloure.”
Than said the king, and ansurid soberlie,
“Fare syr, I counsale ȝow nocht latt forthy—
Ȝe watt that deid of were is antirus,
And all the fortouns of it perrellus:
Suppois ane man to-day haue victorie,

192

And of the feild the victory halely,
He may nocht save before discomfitoure,
Suppois he wauld to sum man do fauoure,
For sic a man to favoure tak may he
Throw quhome ane battall may discomfist be:
Thus, quhill þe battall tak discomfitoure,
Thare will na man in battall do favoure.
Bot traist wele, and his dede mycht be forsene,
And it war knawin quhat man þat he had bene,
He sould haue had mare favouris na ony man
That deid in battall sen þe were begane;
For treulie I am of the cumpaney,
And Alexander richt vounder wele knaw I,
And how he was displesit of his dede,
And he micht ony way haue sett remede;
Quharefore me think ȝoure harte sould sobrit be,
Quhan that ȝe watt quhat lufe till him had he.”

Than, quhan the auld knicht hard him say þat he
Knew Alexander, and was of his menȝie,
His hart grew grete, and boldnit in his breist,
His curage grew, and vp his hede he keist;
His memberis quoik, his face begouth to suell,
For to his hart þare come a suddane knell,
That for gret iyre ane wourd he micht nocht speik,
He had sic will his brother dede to wreik,
Thinkand richt wele þat he was ane of þai
That his broder helpit for to sla.
With that, glovrand on him he threw his brow,
Sayand, “God giff I war bodin as ȝow,
Thow sould forthink that evir thow come þis way,
Or I sould de on þe þis ilk day!”
Than said the king, and smylit a litill we,
“Sobir ȝow, fare syr, and lat sic querell be:
Albeit ȝe war armit in ȝoure gere,
Me think ȝe haue na mister of mare were;
Bot wauld ȝe listyn, and to my counsale tak,
Percais the king sould sic confort to ȝow mak,
And sic ane mendis for ȝoure broder dede,
It suld ȝow pleis, and stance all ȝoure fede;

193

For I dar say, had ȝe him anys sene,
And in his cumpaney a quhill had bene,
Ȝe sould favoure and fryndschip in him find;
And als with sic ressounis he sould ȝow bind,
That be ressoun ȝe sould haue him excusit,
And of his officeris na thing be refusit.
And I dar wele assovir ȝow and affy
That, and ȝow list cum till his cumpaney,
And speik with him, and put away all breith,
And be tretabill and sobir in ȝoure wreith,
And he sould for ȝoure saik the sege rais
Quhilk Clarus to that citie posit has,
And all ȝoure fryndis put in libertie,
And mak thame lordis hale of þare cuntrie.”

With that the wourdie knicht kest vp his face;
Than all his hart for ioy recomfort was,
Sayand, “Fare syr, and I micht in ȝow traist,
I wald fane gudlie wayis of trety taist;
Wist I þat ȝe sic power with him hade,
I sould pas furth with ȝow but mare ab[a]de,
With ȝour counsale sic trety to assay,
To mak concorde and wiryth all wreth away—
For to supplie my nevoyis and my nece,
I wauld pas with ȝow to the land of Grece.”

Than said the king with grete benignetie,
“Tell me ȝoure name, ȝoure plesure gif it be.”
“Syr,” said the knicht, “men callis me Cassamus—
In all this cuntrie namet am I thus—
Quhilk hes gevin oure the ioy of warldis glore,
For causis quhilk I haue tald ȝow of before;
I was ane knicht quhill þat my dayis docht,
Bot now of all þis warldit I sett richt nocht.”
Than said the king, “Cassamus, traist in me,
For be þe faith that into a knicht sould be,
Ȝe salbe sikkar of all þat I haue said before,
And here my faith to ȝow I gif þarefore.”
All þus the way vnto þe ost he tais,
And Cassamus þe gude knicht with him gais;
As thay was passand to the cumpaney,
Sa come Antigonus that was wourthy,

194

With money douchty men þat wourdie was,
Sikand the king in wod and wildernes—
Thay salust him, with hedis vnhelit bare,
And thankit God that þai had fund him thare.

Than Cassamus, quhilk saw sic courtessy
Maid to the king, beheld him mare reddly,
And in his mynd, “Þis is the king,” said he;
“God grant me grece þis for my proffeit be.”
He was agast, and tuke in hart havie
That he him maide sa litill curtesy;
Ane wther way mekill recoimfort he was
Off his grete piete and his hamelynes,
That sic a piete of his broder he had,
And sic profferris of mendment till him made.
The king behelde, and saw he was efferde,
And everie man sa mervellit on his berde,
That he him to the pavillioun gart lede,
And bad him make gude chere, and haue na drede;
And semblit all the douȝeperis euer-ilkane,
And tauld thame quho the king was cum and gane,
And how to Cassamus promeist he was
Off Effeȝone þe sege for to rais,
And to freith his nece and nevois deris,
Quhilkis tharein ar segit as presoneris,
And als to put out of subiectioun
Thare landis hale, þare castell, toure, and toun.
Off quhilkis the douȝeperis war richt wele content,
And tuke to purposis all with ane entent
To pas with Cassamus, his broder dere,
In mendiment of the dede of Gaudifere;
And ȝitt mare, for his wourthy brother saik,
Sa honerabile a mendis sould he mak
That it sould be wourschip his fryndis till;
And with that swere he deit agane þare will,
For ane of wourthiest rede speris was he
That was in Ynde, in Pers, or Calde.

Than callit þai Cassamus, and tald him hale
How that the king had ordand in consalle,
Bad him in haist pas on till Effeȝone,

195

To conforte all his fryndis and the toun,
And bald thame mak gude chere, and be in haist—
Thai sould haue tythingis of thame in all haist.
And with thame send thai spyis, for to se
How Clarus lay, and in quhat degrie,
And quhat kingis and princis with him was,
And quhan thare purposis was to salt the place.

Quhan Cassamus had hard thare ansuring,
Sa plesit him the douȝeperis and the king
That for grete ioy almaist he had sowneit,
And grufelingis doun he knelit to þe ground, [OMITTED]
Come crepand to the king, to kis his fete.
The king wald nocht, bot rasit him be þe hand,
And braissit in his armys, vp stand[and];
And all the douȝeperis about kissit Cassamus—
Bot ȝitt was cuming nocht Emenedus.
The king gart bring baith clething and armyng—
Than for to se him was a statlie thing,
How he was richt mekill, and manly maid,
Ane semely man, with brawnes and schulderis braid;
Gart schaif his berde, and coll his lokkerand hare,
And ay him semyt baith fare and semelyare.
The king said, “Cassamus, be Godis grace,
I trow, and ȝe war stede in battall place
With ony prince þat ȝe had loverand to,
Thare sould na elde lat ȝow ȝoure dett to do,
For all gude likelynes dissavis me
And ony fallowlike man gart ȝow fle.”
The auld knicht said, “Quhan it cummys þareto,
Thare is no man þat watte quhat he may do—
Suppois we think in battall beris to bind,
Is nane sa gude bot he ane fere may find.”

The king said, “Cassamus, for lufe of the,
As langand Gaudifere, þi broder fre,
I sall gar him þat was his fere in feild,
Quhilk strake him throw the body and the scheild,
Aquyt him, with ane hundreth knichtis kene—
Off quhilkis my-selff ane of þe first sall bene—

196

That he throw cais, and na thing purpostly,
Be antir of were, as passand soddanly—
He was sa noyit, and birnand as in fyre
For wourth Pirrus, and Sansoun, lord of Tyre,
Quhilkis war strikkin doun and left þare on þe land,
Sare voundit, in ane dede-thraw þare liand:
Quhat witt had he þat saw his fallowis sua
Sw[e]ltand to dede, þare slaaris for to sla?
Bot had men wittin his bewty and estate
And wourthynes, now als wele as we watt,
He wauld nocht, and he micht savit be,
For all the gold of Pers haue sene him dee.”

With that come Emenedus Darcade,
Quhilk of the douȝeperis all þare henmaist bade,
With him ane hundreth knichtis in a rout.
Than Cassamus begouth to luke about,
And him persauit, and traistit wele it was he
Quhilk Gaudefere his broder had gart de—
Suppois his hart was sare, na mervell was:
First was he pale, syne blaknynit all his face.
Than said the king, þat micht his malice se,
“Swette syr, latt all this malincoly be,
And here the excusatioun of þis lord,
As all þir knichtis may to ȝow recorde,
And tak him fryndschip, with ȝoure harte,
And h[a]lde gude fallowschip fra þine furthwart;
And he sall forther ȝow mare on a day
Na twenty tymes his dede ȝow proffeit ma.”
With that the knicht knelit before the king,
Sayand, “Fare lord, I am at ȝoure bidding.”
With þat, gude spede he lett doun teris f[a]ll,
Sa did the knichtis ilkane, grete and small.
Thus maid Emenedus his acqu[i]tance,
And eftir, at the kingis ordinance,
Thay war maid fryndis, and kissit the kis of pese,
Of quhilkis the lordis all reiosit was;
Syne with gude chere the king past to þe dyne—
In gude accorde þai drank togidder syne.

The king said, “Cassamus, quhow may þis be?
Ȝoure broder was far ȝounger man na ȝe;

197

Thus mervellis me—sen ȝe ar mare of age,
How sould his aris bruke ȝoure heretage?”
“Fare lord,” said he, “we war of moderis tua:
To barne my moder had me, and na ma,
And all my fader propir heretage
Haldis vnder me, and of my servage;
Bot aris had I nevir of my body—
Tharefore my nevois brukis halely.
Bot Gaudeferis wayffe grete ladie was
Off Effeȝen, and mony ane vþer place:
Scho was half-sister to the Duke Bites,
That gert my broder de in his seruice—
Tua sonnys and ane dochter scho him bare,
Ane callit Bites, ane wþer Gaudefere,
With ane dochter, quhilk callit is Physonnas—
In all Calde is nane so fare a face—
With quhome King Clarus and his sonnys thre
Ar oft in plede quha sall best luffit be;
Bot scho had lever be revyn in quartaris,
And on ane gallous hing be þe haris,
Or that churle Indoȝ sould hir lemen be,
Quhilk garris hir broder mekill sorrow dre.”

Thus Cassamus at the king his leiff hes tane—
Mare semelie knicht in all þat oist was nane.
The king callit þe chiftane of Calde,
Ane man of ane þat maist in traistit he,
And gart him tak of men þat was wourthy
Five hunderth armit in his cumpaney:
To Cassamus he bad þai sould be bane,
Baith nycht and day to serfe with all þare mayne;
And certane trist as þane, nane couth þai make,
Bot bauld him say that ladie, for his saik,
He sould se Clarus, bot he left þe feild,
With money ane wourthy knicht vnder goldin scheild,
And put hir anys in fredome and in rest,
Syne latt hir mary quhare-evir scho likit best.

Than Cassamus with his feris maid him boun
The narrest way to pas to Ephesoun:
Bot in his way was gret Pharon þe flude

198

Or he come þare, quhilk pas it him behude;
Oure quhilk the king, for the fare ladyis saik,
Had vndertane far briggis for to mak,
For all the briggis þat standis it apoun,
Fra Effesoun all done to Babelone,
War all intill his enemys handis,
For ȝitt hade he nane conquest of þai landis.
Thus Cassamus passit on his wayis wes—
He had to ride thre iornais, and na les,
Or he micht cum to Pharon þe rever,
Quhare Effeȝon was standand sum dale nere.
Quhan he come to þe toun off Effeȝon,
Faist to þe ȝettis mad him prikand boun,
And his ensenȝe loude him-selvin cryit;
Off quhilkis the wachis was richt sone espyit,
Wend he had bene of Clarus cumpaney,
Quhilk cummyn was the ciete till espye:
Bot quhan þai wist þe suth þat it was he,
The fyris of ioy þai maid in that ciete.
He enterit sone, and to þe ladeis gais,
And till his nevois all his coimpt he mais,
Quhilk was sa blayith þat slokit was þe sorrow,
And schupe þe sailly are þe morrow.
The sege traistit þai micht no powar be
To do nor dre nor greif to thare menȝe—
Nocht þan þar war of gude men of þe land,
Sic as þai war, wele ten or tu[e]lf thousand.
Than Marchian, quhilk of the nicht-wache had keping,
The nycht had of þe fyris persaving,
And past to Clarus on the morne tymely,
Sayand þai traistit succouris sikkirly
Within the toun, for sic fyris þai made,
Quhilk takin was sum gud newis þai had,
Bad him be war, and send discurreouris fast
On athir syde, of men þat war maist traist.

This Marchiane was King Clarus sister sone,
And money dede of armes had he done;
He armit him, and maid him reddy boun,
And tocht to ride about and se the toun.

199

Than Cassamus had gart sembil haistaly
Thre or foure thousand of þe maist wourthy,
And tocht till ische and strike apoun a side.
Than Marchiane, þat was a man of mekill pride,
Was with his menȝe makand his devise:
Than Cassamus ischit on his best wise,
And with him Gaudefere and Betis ȝhing—
Towart þe sege þai past in ane ling,
And of þe formest fellit grete fusoun:
Thare cry [was] “Cassamus of Effeȝoun!”
With that the skry into the oist vp-rais,
And all the lordis to thare armes gais;
The Marchiane, þat was wourthy man of were,
Was all reddie and armit in his gere
With his menȝe, as we before haue said,
And fra the king he past in a braid:
He tuke the feild with thame þat was reddy,
With money a gude man in his cumpaney.
Be that Syr Cassamus had hewin doun
Mony a proude man, with money a pavillioun;
With that he saw Syr Marchiane to the feild,
On hors enarmit, baith with spere and scheild,
With him a grete battall, all reddie boun,
Arrayit wele betuix him and the toun.

Than Cassamus callit on Gaudefere,
Said, “Boun þe, nevo, now to streke þi spere—
Here is nocht ellis bot owther do or dee;
Thay ar of men foure tymes ma þan we,
Bot fare nevo, be nocht dredand for þai,
For multitude makis na victory.”
With that he cryit loude, þat all micht here,
Bad thame be of gude comfort, and mak gude chere,
And euerie man be sikker of spere and scheild,
And mark at the mydwart of the feild;
And gif God gevis thame grace to mak a slop,
Thay sould ger of þe proudest hedis hop—
Think on þare cry, and kepe wele þare ensenȝe,
Hald all togidder, and be sikker of þare renȝe,
“And here for me!” With that he gaif ane schout,
And markit at the mydwart of þe rout,

200

And hit Marchiane in myddis of þe scheild,
Quhil[l] hors and man lay flatlingis in þe feild;
And Gaudefere ane wther has ouretane:
Out-throw the scheild þe spere is quytly gane—
Had nocht his haubert bene of mailȝe fyne,
He had bene quyte of drynking of þe wyne.
And ȝing Betis bare him sa wourthely
That of þe freschast bledand he gart ly;
And als þe laif sa wele þare pageand playit
That money ane wourthy to the ground was laid,
Quhill sic ane flitt thai made in þare battall
That all thare menȝe past oure throw alhale:
And in agane þat ilk way þai straik,
And ilk wourth chesit him a maik,
And throucht and throucht þai past, twyis or thryis,
That quha was doun micht nocht gudlie rais.

With that Marchiane was gottin on his fute,
And vther ma, suppois it was na bute,
For he was toppit sone, and led away
Till Effeȝone, withouttin mare delay.
Than schupe þai thame for till be passand hame;
Bot thai wauld neuer turne þe bak, for schame,
Bot removand and kepand thare menȝie,
And nevir tocht to turne the bak and fle,
And thare begane for to engrege the stoure.
Thare micht men se quha maist was of waloure:
Ȝing Gaudefere richt wourthely him bare,
Bot ȝoung Betis full sare was woundit þare;
Thay tocht to vmbelap þame all about,
Bot of þe toun þare come with sic ane schoute
And new battall, for to reskew þare men,
Be liklynes of thousandis may þan ten;
And Cassamus helde þame in barganying
Quhill succoure come, with helpe of his cousing.
Than rais the scry apoun the castall wall,
Quhilk all the ladyis gart in swownyng fall.
The Caldenȝ stoure was wounder mervellus,
Quhilk Alexander had sen[d] with Cassamus—
Off presoneris thai tuke ane grete menȝe
Off thame of Ynde, quhan þai begouth to fle;

201

Thare five thousand chaisit agane fivetene,
Quhan thai the battall of the toun had sene:
Baith was thare slane and woundit mony ane,
The battalle discomfist, and the chiftane tane,
And all with honoure past in þe citie,
Or Clarus battall mycht enarmit be.

Than was the lord of Bauder, King of Mede,
Enermyt cumand on ane sturdy stede,
With [twenty] thousand in his cumpaney
Off men of Ynde, all armit richely,
And tuke the ciete þe nerrest way,
Thinkand with mynes and ledderis to assay
To tak the toun; bot þat was all in vane,
For þai war schamefully put hame agane,
For þi war in dikis dungin doun
With cast of stane, on all sydis of þe toun,
And slane with schote, in sa grete quantetie
That þai war fane þare way agane to fle.
Thare was the King of Meid, the Bauderance, tane,
And in þe dikis slane full mony ane—
Ȝoung Gaudefere at the portis strak him doun,
Baith hors and man, or he come to þe toun.
Quhat wo in hart þan had Clarus the king,
That all his thre sonnys gane was in hunting,
His men defoulit, and mony tane and slane,
And all the laif chaist hame till him agane.

Bot lorde! quhat ioy into the citie was
Betuix the lordis and dame Phisonas,
Quhan brocht was þe Bauderane, for to feistit be,
And mak his quentance with the ladyis fre,
And vther lordis that tane war in þe pers,
In Venus chalmer, as the custume was;
Quhare Merchiane fell in amorous in sic kynd
That of his persoun he had no more mynd.
And all þe toun sic ioy into þare hart þai had
That of þe sege litill coimpt þai maid;
And als þai war recoimforte, man and page,
That Cassamus had left his heremitage,
And als in Alexander, attoure all thing,

202

Thare traist was maist and thare recomforting [OMITTED]
And sparis nocht, bot rially þai spend.
All thus to Venus chalmer haue þai gane,
The Bauderane, ȝoung Gaudefere, and the Merchiane,
Quhare Phisonas, Ydory, and Edea
In chalmer war, with mony ladyis ma:
Thare was ȝoung Betis chosing King of Lufe,
And maid ane aith þat he sould, but reprufe,
Off all demandis gif richtwis iugment
Belangand lufe, treuly by his entent.

Than Cassamus said to þe presona[r]is,
“Witt ȝe, lordingis þat in þis chalmer þare is,
That ȝe sould here be blayth in ȝoure entent,
And putt away diseis and matelent,
And think on na thing bot on ioy and blythnes,
For anter of were is every mannis cais—
Malancoly puttis mannis hartis doun,
And puttis all fryndis to confusioun,
And makis oure fais blayth of oure maleis,
And dois þame sorow quhen we ar wele at ais:
Than sould we schape to mak oure fryndis fane,
Throw blaythnes put oure fais to pane.”
Thus conforte he the wourthy King of Meid,
Quhilk had ynewch of blyithnes or [h]e ȝeid,
For he was syne so hie in amorous sett
With ane that efter wele his barrett bett,
For he was louit with lady Ydory,
Quhilk was þe farest and the maist lusty
Off all the ladyis þat war into þat place,
Nixt Gaudef[e]ris sister, dame Phisonas.
The Baudriane was ane wourthy man of hand,
Ane fare persoun of ony of all þe land,
And cummyn doun fra the worthy strynd of Troy,
And micht wele seme tobe a ladyis ioye.
The chalmer was fare and richely arrayit,
And eik the Baudreane was richt wele appayit
To be in keping of dame Ydory,
To hald him blayth, and stench malancoly;
Bot Pheȝonas, movit with ielosy,

203

Said to dame Ydory, all prevaly,
“Ȝe haue nocht falȝeit for to cheis at richt,
For ȝe haue chosin ane freche and wourth knicht
Off ony that is takin in þis place,
And like to stand into his ladyis grace.”
“Madame,” said scho, “treulie, be my gude fay,
Quhen I him saw in feild þis hinder day,
I had of[f] him na suthfast wittering
Off his valoure, na þat he was a king,
Bot, as me tocht, he bare him worthely,
And him defendit wounder manfuly
Quhill hors mycht stand—quhat micht he syne do mair?
Syne hors and man helde baith togidder þare.”

Syne efter was þe King of Lufe vpsett,
And frechlie crovnit with ane rois chaplet;
And maid ane aith þat he suld treulie say
Till all demandis of lufe, as for þat day,
And at ilkane he suld thre questionis spere,
And thai till ansure [in] þare best maner,
The lawte for to say, vnfenȝeitly,
Be thare witting, be faith of þare body.
And first he sperit at madyn Ydea
Giff euer scho was with luffe distrenȝeit sa
That scho micht nowther ete, drink, na slepe,
Nor to nane vther proffitt to tak kepe
Quhill scho had of hir lufe sum conforting,
The quhilk scho luffit best attoure all thing;
Ane vther questioun, quhidder þat scho
Had levir with hir lufe allane to be,
To se of fer baith vissage and body,
Or for to grape and fele, but villanly,
And nowther him se, speik, na vther plesance tak,
Bot kis and brais, and no callacioun mak;
The thrid, gif þat scho wist he louit hir nocht,
Giff scho forthy vald turne fra him hir tocht.

Than scho, quhilk had ane lufe baith fare and gude,
And all the questiouns richt wele vnderstude,
Nocht þan suppois þat sho was ȝitt vntamyt,

204

Na of na taynt of velaney had bene blamyt,
Scho ansurid sweitlie, and with gude mesure:
“As to the first,” scho said, “I ȝow assure
That I was nevir with lufe sa ȝitt ouresett
That euer I left to slepe, or ete my mett—
And ȝitt I traist I lufe als wele my lufe
As ony lady may do but reprufe.
I will nocht say þat quhan I on [him] think,
Na les me pleis baith slepe and mete and drink;
And vexis me, and trublis all my mynde,
Quhare I find him oure [---] or vnkynde.
As to the tothir questioun, þis I say,
That I had lever him se with licht of day,
With sic estate as till him suld effere,
As him to grape, and nowtherane se nor here,
For gudely plesand sicht may wele suffice
To thame þat may nocht mete in vther wise;
Bot for to fele, and noutherane speik nor se,
Na vther ioy bot hals and kis and fle,
Ȝitt I had lever bot bide in esperance
Na meit sa nere, and haue na mare plesance:
Les vauld me greif to luke on mete disting,
Na handill mete, and ete þareof na thing.
As to the thrid, certis, quhare I am sett,
Suppois I wist my baill sould never be bett,
And that he was conquest with subteletie,
Or be riches his harte removit fra me,
Or eike [throw] bewtie or throw glaidlynes—
As vtheris has mare na I, [I] ges—
Ȝitt sould I neuer my hart fra him disseuer,
Bot lufe him ay, suppois he luffit me neuer—
Percais he may fra lufe to lufe ourecast,
And efter all best lufe me at the last:
Thus in gude hope I sall my dule oure-drive,
And lufe him best euer quhill he beis on liffe.
Thus mennis lufe oft tymes be variable—
And womennis lufe euer suld be ferme and stabill,
Na ony women may lufe ma na ane.”

Than said the king, “Maistres dame Ydory,
It may neuer be bot ȝe haue lufe ioly—

205

I ask ȝow, for þe faith ȝe aucht to lufe,
And alsa mot helpe ȝow at ȝoure behuffe,
Quhe[r] ȝe haue chosin ane to ȝoure lufe-drowry,
On quhome ȝoure hart is sett alhalely,
To bruke and iois vnto ȝoure lettir age,
To lufe in lamenry or in mariage;
Ane wther questioun ȝitt I will ȝow make:
Quhen ȝe ar vexit for ȝoure lufis saik,
Quh[er] mare ȝow vexis wanhoip or desire,
Quhan lust in ȝow kendlit has þe fyre;
The thrid, in quhat partis of ȝoure bodie
That lufe ȝow vexis maist excidantlie.”
Quhen he had said, for schame scho changit hew,
As lufferris dois quhan þai of lufe ar trew,
And till him said, “Fare syr, I moist on nede
Mak answring, and bow quhan ȝe me bid:
As to the first, I ansure ȝow treulie
That I haue chosin, bot I watt nocht gif I
Be chosin agane, for my lufe is bot grene,
And may sa fall þat lett sall cum betwne;
Bot war it at my will, I say for me
I sould him neuer change quhill I de—
In quhat kynd that euer likis him best me haue,
I sall him lelely lufe oure all þe laif.
As to the tothir, desire vexis me nocht,
For my desire is plesand to my tocht,
For gude hoipe in his cumpaney ay was,
And sall, quhill I se vthir likelynes;
Off wanhoip I had neuer ȝitt knawlege,
Becaus oure lyffe is of sa tendir aige—
Nocht thane, but raddoure can I neuer be,
For dout he for ane farer chainge me;
As to the thrid, in quhat part I maist fele
Maist vexand me, I can nocht tell ȝow wele,
For quhan I se þat I luffe lelely,
It trublis all the partis of my body:
Than I desire to haue his mouth to myne,
Syne breist to breist, and all the body syne,
In armys plett, nakitt, with his gud will,
And syne that war na velanly ws till.”

206

Than Phisonas smylit, and made small ene,
Quhan Ydory said þat hir lufe was grene.
Than said the king, “Certis, I traist trewlie
That scho hes said the soith, vnfeneȝeitlie.”
To Pheȝonas, his sister, þan said he,
“My fare sister, now war it tyme þat ȝe
Wauld sum thing say, ȝoure selff for till excuse—
Ȝow to discharge in sum thing ȝow behuse:
And for þe first demand at ȝow spere I
Quhidder, in þe place ȝe luffe maist lelely,
To se ȝoure luffe at laysere at ȝour eis,
Or think on his bewtie may mare ȝow pleis;
Ane wthir, gif ȝoure luffe war in battall plais—
As oft-tymes happinis in þe samin cais—
Quhidder ȝe had levar ȝoure broder takin war,
Or ȝoure luffe war in fechting wound[it] sare;
The thrid demande ȝe treulie tell [till] me,
Be quhat taknyningis lufe best may knawin be.”

The ladie, quhilk of lufe small knawlege had,
As to the first demand nane ansure maid,
For scho was ȝoung, and eik of tendir age,
And of þe stoundis of lufe had na knawlege,
And said, “I luffit nane ȝit in prevatie
Na man, nor nane dedenȝeis to lufe me,
Bot I traist, and I luffit ony way,
And had my hart on him sett faithfulie,
I wauld be les distrublit with thinking
Na graithly him to se, be mekill thing,
For of swete tocht I haue na displesance,
Bot sic kendellis fyre, to be at nere quentance—
Thus wauld suete tocht fare mare recomfort me
Na on him luke, and neuer the narrar be.
As to the tothir, I here þame say that luffis—
I watt nocht gif þa[r]e saw to thame repruff is—
For all thare kyn þai wauld nocht mak sic care
As þai wauld for þe dede of þare luffar:
Quharefore me think I war nocht to reprufe,
As vþer wemen dois, to lufe my lufe.
As to the thrid, I can nocht say, treulie,
Quhill wyth myne eme first counsolit war I.”

207

Than said the king, “Fare eme, Syr Cassamus,
Sen ȝoure lady can nocht þis were discus,
Ȝe wauld ryse, and be to hir counsaleoure—
To helpe ladyis it war bot gret honoure.”
Than said Syr Cassamus, “Far nece, lat be—
Off ȝoure demande na thing efferis to me;
For gif ȝe can of þis demand na skill,
Ȝe sall ane vþer haue, and ansure till.”
The king said, “Eme, me think ȝe say ressoun—
I sall remufe to ȝow þis questioun;
And, as langand my sister Phesonas,
I sall demand hir of ane vþer cais,
That is to say, quh[i]dder þat hid invye
Distrublis luffaris mare, or ieloussy,
For I persaue the oith is nocht to nyte,
That of sic thing scho may nocht hir acquyte.”

Than was scho fare mare trublit na before,
For mony luffaris war settand hir before,
To ansure to the demand of ieloussy—
Ilkane wauld think the ressoun, þe quhy:
Scho studeit in hir mynd a litill tyme,
And oft-times changit hewis, and ansured syne,
And said, “Syr king, certis, be my entent,
And I sould say efter my iugment,
I watte nocht quhilk of thame mare vexis me,
For ane may nocht without ane vþer be,
For quhan ane ladie is strikin with ielussy,
It may neuer be bot scho hes sum invye
At sum persoun quhome at scho has dispar[e],
That his luffe thinkis mare worthy, and mare fare,
And makis hir oure grete chere and cumpaney—
Tha[n] will scho haue at þat persoun invy;
And till hir luffe þe ielussy pertenis,
That scho on him has sum mystraist, or wenys
That he wauld lichtlie hir for þat persoun,
The quhilk to h[ai]te me think scho has ressoun,
And have hir dispyte and gret invye—
Thus baith elike distrublis grevuslie.”

Sade Cassamus, “Fare nece, I dar avow,
Giff ony man of amouris quytis ȝow,

208

And strublance, with invye and ielussy,
Quhare-euer it be, þat it sall nocht I be.”
[With] þat scho wex all rede, and lukit doun,
And till [hir] vncle softlie couth scho rovne,
“Quhy haue ȝe me repruffit sa opinlie—
Be God, ȝe speik oure plane poesy.”
With that dame Ydory smyleit and leuch,
And the Bauderane maid it wounder teuch,
With blenkis gevin and ȝeildit mony wise,
And sichand in þare hartis, said oft syse,
“Hie Cupid, god of lufe, grant oure desire,
And meis þir stoundis, þat flammys oure hartis in fyre.”
Than was Marchiane with madyn Ydea
Sa stratly stad that he wist of na wa,
Thinkand that he sould stand intill hir grace;
Bot scho, that had hir hart in vþer place,
Till Bites, quhilk scho luffit of lang tyme,
Scho gaif hir luffe, and vþer wauld scho nane,
To quhome scho kist luffe-blinkeis ay betwne—
Luffe quykkynis sone, quhare auld lufe ay has bene.

Than to the Baudreane sayis the King of Luffe,
“Schir King of Meid, now, as ȝe heit repruffe
And luffis laute, þat ȝe will soithlie say
In quhat kin wise luffe be kepit may,
And quhil[k] the poyntis ar ȝe wauld tell me,
Throw quhilkis gude lufe may langest kepit be.”
The King Cassell, quhilk was a nobill knicht,
A fare persoun, baith wise, wourthy, and wechte,
Kest in his hart þat he micht ansure sua
That with his wourschip saiflie he mycht ga.
Than sais the King of Lufe, “Ȝet wauld I spere
Ane vþer questioun ȝit in þis maner,
Quhidder as ȝe traist þat [bonte] or bewtie
In lufe mare pu[n]gȝeand and distrenȝeand be,
That is to say, quheder guidis or fairnes
Is to luffiaris mare comfort and blythnes;
The thrid, qu[hi]dder discomfort or esperance
Is mare dissauit in lufe throw fals semblance.”
Than said the Baudriane fare and courtesly,

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“Sen I am soworne, on nede ansure man I:
As to the first, certis, I say for me,
Quhan lufe is sett in fare and gud party,
Wisdome, lawte, fredome, and gude wele
Makis lufe to lest, and euer be starke as stele,
For treulie, and ony of þir foure poyntis falȝie,
The end of lufe salbe of litill valȝe.
As to the tothir, I traist of freche bewtie
Mare ardand, pungȝeand, and distrenȝeand be,
And soner schawis furth his ententioun,
To secreitlie inquere of hir renoun;
For beautie, but it passis of mesoure, [OMITTED]
And beautie oft tymes blekkis hir honoure,
Quhen beautie may for wourschip bare þe floure:
Bot quha may haue thame baith togidder tua,
Be ressoun suld cavete forthir ga.
Bot quhan a man to lufe wald cheis a fyre,
I trow beautie be þe first messingere:
And be þe wise he sett him syne to ken
Off his gudnes, be voce of wþer men;
Bot fulis hartis for beautie sum inclynis—
Off baran beautie þe end ay foly syn is,
And bettir is with counsale cheis gude wyne,
Na fare and ill, and to devode it syne.
As to the thrid, I traist þat fals semblance
Dissavis ma to hender [n]a avance
Vnder gude hope na throw discomforting,
For covatesie of mennis gude wynning
Gerris men traist þat þai best luvit be,
Sen luffis ane vther far bettir in prevatie—
That is dissate of fals collusioun,
And oft it cummys to ill conclusioun.”

Than sais the king, “Fare eme, Syr Cassamus,
Sen ȝe best wate, we pray the tell till ws,
And till ws ȝoung folk of ȝoure wisdome lere,
Quhilk ar the thingis þat maist may luffaris d[e]re;
And vther, quhat thing may thame maist empleis,
And maist may hald þare luffaris at thair eis;
The thrid, that ȝe wauld trewlie till ws schaw

210

Be quhat tayknynnis men may lele luffaris knaw.”
The gude knicht sais, “With grete difficultie
And grete avise þir thingis mon ansurid be:
Dangere, distres, wanhope, and fals sembland, [OMITTED]
Vnlawte, wrechitnes, and foli[s] corage,
Fede, ieloussy, and oure opin langage—
Thir ar the thingis þat lele lufe may forlete,
And all thir contrareis may þare balis bete.
As to the thrid poynt, all folk sould witt, but wene,
That all trew lufe removis fra [þ]e splene,
Quhilk makis his lufe of his will sum knawlege;
Than is the e the souerane messingere,
The quhilk discrevis hir beautie, far and nere;
Syne to the hart makis hir relatioun,
The quhilk declaris it to the witt commoun;
Than witt declaris, sayand hir suete blenking
Cummys fra þe hart, withouttin fenȝeing.
This is the first of gude takinynis, but were—

[Primus]

The ene ar ay the hartis messingere;
This is the first takin, and the best, but ȝe,
Off all lufaris, þe suete blenke of þare ee.
The secund takin is plesand commonyng,

Secundus

With lik[an]dnes and suete collationying,
And nocht till irk na thing, bot na way,
For gude lufe thinkis of ane ȝere bot ane day.
The thrid takin is to gif giftis, and tak,

Tertius

And drowryis kepe and were for his ladyis saik,
For euer trew lufe of guidis is liberale,
Or ellis it cummys nocht of trew hart and hale.
The ferd is quhan þai cum in lufe talking,

Quartus

Off all thare secreitis till haue commonyng,
For be hir secreit schawing he may se
Giff that scho luffis him best in all degrie;
For traist wele, quhare þe hartis secreit gais,
The hart is þare, and residence þare mais—
Quhare fenȝeand luffaris has no hope of hele,
The outwart schawis, and secrete ay counsale.

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The fyft takin of gud luffe þis may be,

Quintus

To be ioyus quhan þai him ioyus se;
And quhan thai se him sad, and at malleis,
Quhare is na thing at þat tyme may þame pleis,
And settis þame at all þare gud powar
To sloke þare site, and mak thare myrthis mare.
The sext is quhan thai watt apperand skaith,

Sextus

Thay warne and lattis it, at þare powar baith;
And blaithlie to þare message makis gud chere,
Thare hors, þare hound, and thare falconner—
His hyne may persaue be þare welcummyng
Giff scho thare maister luvis oure all thing.
The sevint takin is of ane gude lovare,

[Septimus]

That for na thing will crab thame, late or are,
Na do na thing þame for to do malleis,
Bot all thing do that may þame eis or pleis;
And sone may be recounsellit in þare wraith,
Na beris nocht lang tyme havily þare braith,
And gif þai falt makis reklesly,
Thai mend it sone, with blaythnes reddily.”

[The] king [to] Merchiane efter þat him tais,
And thir questiounis followand till him mais:
“Into the first, quhidder luffaris has mare lake
In lufe to be forsakin or forsaik,
Or to thame quhilkis followis mare reprufe,
Or maist forfetture mais to the king abufe.
Ane wther syne at sum ansuring behus,
Quhidder þat fals sembland or ane plane refus
Is mare displesand till oure maiestie,
Till lele luffare, quhilk lippinis in lawtie,
And quhat punytioun þareto is requirit—
For sic thing sould be punyst as efferit.
The thrid, gif ane lady may but velany
Lufe may na ane vnfendȝeand lelely.”

The [Merchiane], þat wise was and persevand,
And sum part of his feil had vnderstand,
Said, “Treulie, schir, be my [discretioun],
Thare lyis þare-in gude knawlege of ressoun:
That is to say, be þare no caus quhy,

212

Than the forsaking has þare na velanly,
Bot, and he had made ony forfetture,
Than has he baith the lake and the dishonoure;
And thai that ar forsaiki[n] causles
Ar wourthy to stand in luffis grace.
As to the tothir, I ansure thus, schir king—
Oft-tyme grete gude cummys of dissemulling,
For gif ane luvar be sa hely sett
That he will de bot gif his bale be bett,
Than is it spedefull to put him in beleife,
For dout the malady of lufe him greife;
And alsua eftirwart sic aventure may fall
Scho may him lufe far better na thame all,
Or he may fall in sum vther luffing,
That hir refuse may hender him no thing,
Quhilk, had scho frawartlie gevin him refuse,
He had tholit dede, as mony vþer dois.
Bot, gif it war of luffe in full curage,
As wise wemen full sone may haue knawlege,
A schorte refuse is mare expedient,
Vnfenȝeandly to schaw him hir entent.
As to the thrid, I say ȝow ‘ȝa’ schortlie,
That wist scho twenty þat luffit hir lelely,
Scho wuld thame lufe, kepand hir-self, for lak,
And na disworschip to hir honoure take,
And nocht þane of ane vther witt, forthy,
And lufe þame all, but lak and velanly,
For ay the better woman, mare benyng,
Or ellis þai war nocht to ȝoure seruice ding:
The wourthiest ay, and gretest of degre,
Has maist of piete and benignitie,
For piete in ladyis hart is wele semand,
As in the gold ring is the diamand;
And hart [b]ut pietie likynnyt is, but dout,
As till ane gold ring quhan the stane is outt.
Bot piete in wourthy ladyis hart and [f]yne
Lyis richt fare doun, as gold dois in þe myne:
Thus wourthy ladyis may lufe mony ane
With gude trew lufe, and hald hir harte till ane,
And mak him nother falt nor forfature,

213

Baith saif hir womanhede and hir honoure.”

Than said Schir Cassamus, “Fare nevo dere,
Sen ȝe haue sperit þat to ȝow sould effere,
Now fallis ws ilkane to spere at ȝow,
Ilkane about, on raw as we sitt now,
And ȝe till ansure ws in [ve]ret[i]e,
For till a king it efferis nocht to le.”

Than sais the king, “Certis, I am content
For to declare efter my iugment
Off quhat thing that ȝow list to spere at me,
Eftir my knawlege and possibeletie.”

Than sayis Schir Cassamus, “Dame Ydea,
It fallis ȝow now the first demand to ma,
For ȝe war scho quhilk maid first ansuering;
Begynnys þarefore, and first demand the king.”

“I am content,” scho sayis, “and here for me,
For of demandis I haue all reddie thre.
And first of ane I spere at ȝow, schir king:
Sen ladyis sould kepe honoure in all thing,
And scho haue mony luffaris at behest,
And evir-ilkane is makand hir request,
And scho may nocht of all þai sloke þe fyre,
Till grante to everie man his grete dissyre,
Bot gif scho mak hir first luffe forfature,
And with þat hurt bayth wourschip and honoure,
Giff þai sould be content in þat degre,
To haue gude luffe for lufe in privatie,
And in presence apperit [f]re and fare calling,
And in absence gude worde and gude thinking.
Ane wþer questioun I will vnto ȝow cast,
Quhidder man or womannis lufe is mare stedfast;
For we se men oft-tyme change lufe,
And settis nocht by quha þareof þame repr[u]f[e],
And woman of þare luffis ar sa fervent
Thai wald neuer change þame to þare livis end—
Off quhat estate þat evere ane persoun be,
And thai be anys acquent in privatie,
All sett scho mycht haue bene ane princis pere,
Scho hatis him neuer, bot haldis him maist dere.
The thrid is this: quhilk maist displesand be

214

Till the King of Lufe, and till his maiestie,
Secrete dede, vnwittin of ony way,
Or publit name, but dede of velanly.”

“As to the first, I ansure ȝow bot glore,
And scho haue fermelie sett hir lufe before,
Scho may þame grant ilkane, and honoure saif,
Gude lufe for lufe, and wowit before þe laif
Nocht to rehers the names of the persouns,
Na make before folk na comparisouns,
Richt as before into þis place herd I,
Mak thame gud chere, and lufe but velany.
As to the tothir, becaus I am ane man
I man be sett as party; bot nocht þan,
Sen I am king, I sould nowther gap nor glois,
For of my chaplett þan sould þare fal a rois.
Tharefore I will say the gros veretie,
Suppois sum men may think percais I le:
I se few wemen parte with gude will
Quhan þai ar gevin with harte þare luffar till,
Quhare mony a man changis fra hand to hand,
And likis nocht bot þai be ay newand;
And ofter men findis caus of partitioun
Na women dois, without comparisoun,
And oft na dule þai mak at departing,
Quhen wemen makis ane mervellus murnyng,
And leiff to bide, and laith to part away,
And followis men quhare-euer þai went away—
Quhare þai luffe vele, þare hart remuffis neuer,
Na with thair will wald neuer fra thame dissever.

“As for the thrid, þocht evil dede be secrete
As for a tyme, ȝitt oppynnis it anys the ȝett,
And all dedis sall discouerit be;
And euer honour followis efter lawte,
For na demying may [be] comperd to dede—
Than sould we do wele, and na demyng drede.
Nocht þan, wise men suld attoure all thing
Kepe þame weil fra all caus of ill demying,
For men seis þat folk for ill renoun,
But caus in dede, ar bannyest of þe toun:
Tharefore, quha will vmbeschew ill cumpaney

215

And ill occatioun, may liff ay honerablie,
For ill renoun cummys neuer causles,
But sum occatioun and sum likelynes.
All þus me think, as best applesis me,
Erar na dede lat saikles demying be,
For sum wemen ar clene as innocentes,
Quhilk trowis na ill, na thinkis in þare ententis,
And vþer sum ar fals, suttell, and sle,
That can wele hide and cover þare prevatie:
Giff þai sould haue baith merit elike,
I war nocht wourthy to governe þis kinrik.”

Than said Cassamus, “Dame Ydory,
Now fallis ȝow to say ȝour verdory.”
The ladie sayis, “I am all reddie boun
Till ask declaring of my questioun:
At ȝow, schir king, I spere, sen best ȝe can,
Quhilk [ar] the thewis of ane gud women,
That garris men þame lufe and hald þame dere,
And makis a pure women a princis pere;
And with þat, all ill maneris and ill thewis
That followis euer þir fule women and schrewis;
And efter syne ȝoure counsale gif to me,
How madynnys in þare ȝouth sould gouernit be.”

Than sayis the king, “Þir questiouns ar grete—
I man study þai poyntis for to gett.
As to þe first, ȝe sould richt wele considder
That womannis honoure is mare tendir and sliddir,
And ethar for to bleke, be mekill thing,
As farast rois will sonest tak fading.
And woman ever sould schame haue, and raddoure,
Ewir dredand þe thing þat micht be dishonoure,
Ay full of pietie and humeletie,
And litill of langage, bot grete mystir be;
Nocht loude of lauchter, na of langage cours,
And euer be doand sum gude to the hous,
Nocht vsitt to sitt with tractilling in þe toun,
Na in þe rew with nane rouke and rovn,
Na favoure nane þat spekis dishonoure;
Excuce þe schame of everie creature,
Be nocht lefull all tratlingis for to here

216

Na to rehers, suppois sum vauld it spere;
To þare frendis obeysand for to be,
Off thingis þat may þame honoure and supplie;
Off clething nocht oure proude nor dilicate,
Bot efter as may a[ff]ere to þare estate;
Off mette or drink be nocht oure liccorous,
For lic[her]y oft followis, men sais thus;
Na drowryis gif, na giftis to ressave,
Na sangis of plesance for to gif na craif;
Nocht oure hed-strang, na fyry to hir freyndis,
Bot sobir and swete to all folk quhare scho leyndis;
Vse nocht ill langage, fliting, stourt, na striffe,
In hir defalt displeis nouther man na wiffe;
In hussychip striffe ay with hir nychtboure
Quha can maist thrifty be, but dishonoure;
In feist nor kirk nocht preis to sitt oure he,
Nocht euerilk day elike proude for to be;
Preis nocht to mend hir mak þat God has made,
Wenand to kepe þe farenes þat will fade—
Fra þai be passit [twenty] ȝeris and mare,
The langare ay we liff, þe laithliare.

“Kepe sacrefice quha may, and liff clenely,
Thank God of all, and loif him ythandly;
Off all pure folk þai sould be pe[t]eabill,
Do almes dede, and ay be cheritabill;
Giff neuer ill word to folk behind þare bake,
And lere to lufe all lede, and nane to lake.
Be sad of feris, of hed, of fute and hand,
Nocht oure oft in þe strete to be waverand;
Clene ferand ay, and lufe wele honestie,
Hir selff, hi[r] husband, and hi[r] hous menȝe,
Bot hald ay round and simpil plane manere.
Eite and play, collatioun hald with hir pere,
And fle ay fra defamit cumpaney—
Sic as þai hant, sic ar þai comounly.

“Lufe nocht oure mekill sleping and swernes,
For mekill ill cummys oft of ydilnes;
Nocht leist to leip to playis and gyglatryis,
Bot kepe þe feris of woman þat ar wise.
Kepe lawte till all luffaris, day and nycht,

217

Bot kepe hir part quhare scho has lawte hicht,
And change neuer lufe but grete caus manifest,
But ay the first trew lufe be luffit best,
That scho haue neuer of lele luffare reprufe
That scho be fals and vnkynd till hir lufe.
Ga to þai preiching ay gif ony be—
Fra drunkin folk and fra taverne fle.
Ga to þe mes gif þat scho gudlie may,
And loif hir God anys hartlie euer-ilk day;
Luffe wele to pray, and think on oure ending,
For mekill grace cummys ay throw gud praying.
And oure all thing, as vther tyme said I,
Fle ill repare and cankerit cumpaney.

“And langand thewis þat ar nocht commendabill,
Quhilk makis wemen till all vicis habill,
And garri[s] þame be lichtlyit and put abake,
Quhan þai throw þare misnurtour wynnis a lake,
I can nocht schaw ȝow thame mare propirlie
Na for to ken and knaw the contrarie
Off all gude thewis quhilkis I before haue schawne,
Syne kepe ȝow fra þame quhan ȝe haue þame knawin;
For ane contrarie is knawin be ane wther—
Quha knawis the tane, may lichtly knaw þe tother.

“As langand teiching of þir madinys ȝing,
How þai suld be led in vertew oure all thing,
Thare is nocht ellis bot cheis thame gud maistres,
Quhilk knaw þare thewis and vertewis, mare and les:
Hald thame in aw, and chaisty þame of cheild,
Quhill visdome cum, throw vse and witt of eild—
Tharefore ȝoung lordis ar put in curatry
Als lang as ȝouthhede has oure þame maistry.
Tharefore quha likis owthir lufe or lady cheis,
Behald first of quhat burgioun þat scho beis,
For gude mother, dochter gude is to presume,
Sa scho be kepit out of ill custume—
All ill custume cummys throw ill cumpaney,
That oft makis mony women vnwourthy,
Quhilkis, war þai quhare þai saw but gudlynes,
Na ill exampill, na ill likelynes,

218

Ay vnder aw quhill þai cum to þare age,
Teichit with wourthy woman of knawlege,
And ay wele chaistyd quhare-euer þai do amys—
And choulareȝ vantoun and oure rekles is—
Than sould þai be baith chaist and cheritable,
Wourth, wise, and till all vertewis abill:
Than wauld þai be wemen of grete valoure,
And do þare frendis wourschip and honoure.
And quha giffis þare bairnes nane instructioun,
Na for mysdede na punyssioun,
Bot favouris þame into þare vantones,
Quhilk bringis þame to vse of wikkitnes,
And makis þame hedestrang and incorrigibill;
And garris þare frendis haue punytioun horribill,
For as to Godwart, þai [haue] maist of þe wite,
And do þai wele, þe maist of þe merite.”

Than said Schir Cassamus, “Fare nevo king,
Me think ȝe mak richt gudlie ansuering.”
Syne said he till his nece, dame Phesonas,
“Now fallis ȝow say furth, for Goddis grace,
Sum gudlie thing, quhilk may ws luffaris lere,
To conforte ws, and schort ws in þis were.”
Than Phisonas sais, “Eme, me likis wele,
The best wise I may efter my fele;
And first I spere at ȝow, fare broder king,
Sen ȝe of lufe sould knaw all gudlie thing,
Ȝe wauld declare, þe best wise þat ȝe can;
Quhilkis ar þe thewis of a fare woman,
And how and quhare men sould þame knaw,
In quhat part of hir bodie, hie or law,
And how mony þai ar, and in quhat degre—
And for all questionis þus may suffice me.
Bot ȝitt I spere at ȝow, quha knawis þe cours,
Quhidder lufe has ma of plesance or dolouris.”

Than said the king, “Sister, by my fyance,
Thare is no man, fra Effeson to France,
Bot it sould stonys his ententioun
To ansure wele to sic ane questioun;
For nane till it may ansure suthfastlie
Bot he þat knawis þare beauteis propirlie;

219

And becaus þat men has mare vsance
For to cheis beautie be þare awne plesance,
I will ȝow first all my skill declare,
Be sys and trayis, how mony þat þai ar,
Thare hew, þare figure, and þare qualite,
To se quha best can find þe propertie.
In first, fare-hede þat is [in] propir plite
Suld haue thre thingis rede, thre thingis quhite,
Thre schort, thre lang, thre narrow, and thre brade,
Thre strate, thre large, þat langis woman-hede,
Thre hard, thre soft, thre hie, and thre law,
Thre grete, thre small, quha covatis þame to knaw;
Ȝitt mon þare be thre laichis and thre lewis—
Men knawis wele quhan blumand bewtie growis—
Bot efter þis thre motis mon þare be,
And als thre potis, þat ekis hir beautie:
Here traist I þare is foure and fyftie þan
Off beauteis langand to ane fare woman.
Now everie man say his ententioun,
Eftir his plesance and opinioun,
Quhilkis and quhare sould þir forsaid thingis be,
Quhat part of woman, and in quhat degrie.”

Quhan þai war bourdand into þis maner,
Sa come þare fast rynnand ane messingere,
Quhilk fra þe sege new cummyn was, fra þe chais [OMITTED]
Thre sonnys of Clarus, quhilk grete vowis had made
For till assalȝie þe toun but mare abaid
On everie side, vpone þe secund day.
And first ane mychty buschment sould þai lay
Nereby þe toun, about þe ȝettis to lay—
For Gaudefere wauld salȝe reddily—
To se gif þai micht conquest ony peris,
Out of þe toun to lous þare presonaris;
Syne efter þat ane buschment brokin had,
Than sould the king cum on, but mare abade,
To salt þe toun apoun þe wakest syde;
And syne sould cum into þe samyne tyde
His vthir tua sonnys, apoun þe tothir part,
Ilkane ane battall mychty and stalwart:

220

Claring, þe Prence of Dalmary, [h]e hicht,
His eldest sone, ane prince of mekill micht,
With him a prince was callit Donaciane,
That wourthy lordis had with him money ane.
His vther sone was callit Caleos,
Was Prince of Balmaryne and Famagos;
The thrid was callit Porrus, and was maist ȝing,
Quhilk had the buschment into governying,
With him ane prince was callit Synodus,
Quhilk was ane wourthy man and cheverlus.
Syne with the king, and vnder his baner,
The King of Nuby, with mony bachillere,
With mekill pride, pompe, and dignitie,
With mony wourthy prince of þat countray.

Quhan þat the messingere his tale had said
Till Cassamus, quhilk was litill affrayid,
Said to þe child, “Fare frend, quhat movis þe
To bring sic tythingis in þis wise to me?”
“Schir,” said the childe, “I am borne of ȝoure land—
My fader in þis ciete is wonnand;
I was takin with þame þis hinder day
Without the toun, and led with thame away,
And gart me swere þame for to serue treuly
As lang as I was in þare cumpaney;
Bot sen of þare seruice I am here now,
I mak na falt to þame, I dar avow.”

Than rais þe lordis, and drew to counsaleing,
That þai wauld send to Alexander þe king
In gudlie haist, and schaw him all the cais,
How Clarus and his sonnys purposit was,
And all þe fessoun for to mak him kend,
And prayand him sum succoure to þame send.
The messingere was furthwith send in haist,
And mete the king, was cumand with all caist,
With him ane message of Candus þe quene,
Quhilk with grete giftis at him oft-tyme had bene,
And tald him all þe cais, all halely,
How Cassamus and all his cumpaney
Was for tobe asselȝeit on þe morne,

221

Quhilk, bot he helpe, þe citie wauld be lorne.
Than chesit he out Dawclyn and Perdicas,
Caulus, with Lyconor and Arestas,
And with ilkane ane thousand knichtis kene,
And for to governe þame Emenedus,
With helpe of Gaudefere and Cassamus,
Quhilk to þe citie come þe nycht before;
And semblit all þe lordis him before,
And sett tua buschementis in þe foredawing,
To mete the cummying of Clarus þe king.
In ilk buschement five thousand þare was,
Nere by the maister portis of þe place,
And of þe tane Betis had governance,
Emenedus the tothir in ordinance;
And all þe laif was ordand for to salȝee
With Cassamus into þe grete battalȝee,
And Gaudefere sould bid into þe toun,
Ay tobe reddie with ane grete garnessoun,
For to supplie gif ony mister war,
Giff ony wauld assaleȝe oure alquhare.

Than Porrus, or ony day couth daw,
His buschement laid, tymely, þat na man saw,
Sen efter come hi[s] brethir seueraly,
Ilkane ane battalle with þame opinly;
Syne come þe king with ane grete multitude,
With mony wourthy prince and men of gude,
And everie man put to his governance,
As þai war ordand be þare first ordinance.
The salt past to þe toun on every syde—
With that the portis vp was cassin wyde,
And furth þare threw ane grete multitude,
With Cassamus, quhilk was ane chiftane gude,
That Clarus' men astonist was gretlie
Quhan þai saw cumand sic ane cumpaney;
And sone þai semblit at the poynt of spere,
And did þare dett as wourthy men of were.

Quhan þai war all þare fastast fechtand þus,
Than Porrus' buschement brak on Cassamus,
Apoun ane side and sidlingis in behind,
And with þat had the pouder and the wynd,

222

And sic a stoure of dust attoure þame draif
That þai micht nocht þare multitude persaife.
Than ȝoung Bites, quhilk in ane buschement lay,
Saw quhare his eme was sett in sic assay,
And he brak on apoun ane wther hand,
Quhare Porrus with his buschement was festand.
Than [fra] the ost þare rais vp sic ane scry,
Quhilk Clarus herd, and all his cumpaney,
And quhare he tocht for till haue gevin þe salt,
He left, and tocht his men wauld haue sum falt,
And changit place, and come to þare succoure,
With mony wourthy prince of grete waloure,
And tocht þare was na ma bot þat þai saw,
And presit þame quha first micht hidder draw;
And throw þare haist þai brak þare awne array,
For na dispair of wþer men had þai.
Than nere þareby ly Duke Emenedus,
And saw all sett apoun Schir Cassamus,
And tocht his tyme was cummyn, and gafe a schoute,
And followit on þame togidder in a route,
And loude þai cryit the senȝe of Macedone,
And ay on þe narrest straike þai on.

Quhan Clarus and his menȝe saw þat sicht,
Wend Alexander had cummyn, and tuke þe flicht.
Than Clarus' sonnys, that faucht with Cassamus,
Saw þat þare fader was fled and chasit þus,
And þai war sted in-till ane stalwart stoure,
And wauld haue bene away with small honoure,
And threw about, and wauld haue left þe pla[c]e.
Than Porrus, þat wicht man and wourthy was,
Stude still and straik, and baid the vterest,
Quhill Bites all þe laif away had chasit;
Bot efter þame so lang he helde þe chais
Quhill Caleoȝ him of his hors couth rais,
And to pavilliouns led him presoner.
Than Cassamus, quhilk saw Porrus cum nere,
He spurd his hors, and towart him he s[ter]de,
And hors and man he straik bayth to þe erde;
With that his men quhan he was strikin doun
The narrest gait drew to þe pavillioun.

223

Thus was þe feild discomfeist all and fled,
And all þe men fra vþer ilkane sched.
Than all the cumpaney with Schir Cassamus
Followit on to comforte Duke Emenedus,
The quhilk was proudlie fechtand in þe chais,
And mony a man had left on land lifeles,
And tane was mony a proude presonere.
Than semb[l]it þai þe force of þare power,
And all togidder to þe toun is gane,
And Porrus presonere with þame has tane.
Bot lorde! quhat ioy was þan into þe toun
Quhan þai saw cumand Duke Emenedoun,
And with him Cassamus, quhilk Porrus led,
And all þe laif war tane or slane or fled;
Bot for ȝoung Bites all men maid grete mayn,
For þai wist nocht quhidder he was slane or tane.

Than Clarus king, quhan he þis sorrow saw,
Begouth his berd to schaik and wissage thraw,
And wrang his handis, and sichand said “Allace!”
That euer he laid the sege to þat place,
And syne he send efter his sonnyis tua—
The thrid was tane, tharefore his hart was wa;
The King of Nuby, þe Prince of Pynkirnay,
Was with him þare, and fled full fast away.
Than semblit þai to tak counsale and rede,
How in þis thing was best to sett remeid,
For sic supprise had neuer Clarus tane,
And maid ane vow þat trety sould be nane.
Efter sone come Caleoȝ and Clarinus,
Quhilk for þare broder war wounder dolerous,
Sayand, “Fader, sped ȝow deliuerly,
And send for all ȝoure power haistalie,
For Alexander, þe King of Macedone,
With grete powaris is cumand ȝow apoun,
And his entent is sett for conquest hale,
And will here of na trety, but battalle—
Ȝone war his men þat made on ws sic chais,
Quhilkis war with Cassamus vp in þe place;
Ane grete powar is þare in garnesoun,
And Alexander lyis ȝitt beȝound Faroun,

224

And thinkis for to pas þe river sone.
Tharefore my counsale is ȝe send but hone
Oure all þe cuntrie sone ȝoure messingeris,
With counsale of ȝoure lordis þat now here is;
And þat ȝe wauld assay to mak tretis
To gett my broder Porrus for Bites,
For Merchiane and the Baudriane send hostage,
And siclyke men as þai of personage,
For þai ar wise and wourthy men of were,
To helpe þare fryndis, and þare fais to dere;
And to þe oist of Alexander spyis ȝe send,
Traistand throw battall þis were mon tak end.”
All þis was done as it devisit was,
And furth þai send message to ilk place,
And spyis to þe ciete send þai syne,
And als to Alexander of Daleryne,
To se þare purposis and thare maner hale,
The nowmber and þe for[c]e of þare battall.

Than in þe citie was grete ioy and gamyn,
Quhare lordis and ladyis oft was sittand samyn,
And oft in chalmer, quhare few vthir wist,
Thai had plesance and liking at thare list.
Sa it befell þat Porrus alanerlie
In-till þe pallas in his malancoly
Saw sittand pownys on Venus chalmer nuke,
To quhilk Schir Porrus ythandly couth luke;
Sa come ane child with stane-bow in hand,
With lanyn pellokis to avenand.
Than Cassamus, quhilk till him was cumand,
Saw þat he was in a study musand,
And, for to put him out of his pensee,
Say, “Tak þis bow—gif ȝe can schute, lat se.”
Than P[o]rrus tuke þe bow, and tasit anys,
And sett in ane of þe maist havy stanys;
Bot for to schute him tocht i[t] was foly,
Becaus the pownys belangit þe lady.

Than Cassamus sais, “Schute, schir, for Godis grace—
Thare is pownys ma than [twenty] in þis place.”
With that he ettillit, and drew with all his mycht,

225

And hitt þe powin apoun þe hede al richt,
Quhill doun he fell—þare was na dome bot dede,
For with þe stane all birsit was his hede.
Sa come þe ladie furth, dame Phisonace,
And said, “Schir, ȝe haue donn ane rekles case—
Ȝe haue brokin ȝoure sauf-conditt on me,
That þus but leif my foulis hes gart de”;
And tuke him þare into hir armes baith,
Sayand, “Sen I find ȝow into my skaith,
I will arrest ȝow as my presonere—
Ȝe mon pas with me and þir ladyis here”,
And into Venus chalmer þai him led.
The powne þai tuke, and to þe stewart bed
It sould be graithit and dicht to þe dyneris,
And thareat sould be all þe presonaris.

The feist was maid, þe lordis at þe deis—
Ane madin brocht þe powin at þe first meis,
And presentit it before Schir Cassamus,
As fader of armes, eldest and aventurus;
And excusit him, and said hir, “Nay,
Thare is here ane mare wourth alway”,
And bauld bere it to wourthy Arestes,
And syne to Porrus, quhilk ay wourthy was.
And thai excusit, and ay bad him begyn,
A[s] fader of armes of all þat was þarein.

Off the vowis

Thare Cassamus þe present tuke in gre,
And maid ane vow that euerie man mycht se,
And euer he saw King Clarus at þe nede,
He suld gar lymmys brist or sidis bleid,
And put in antyr land, liffe, and riches,
Or he sould helpe to put him of distres.
Than said Porrus, “Lord, thankit mot ȝe be—
Ȝe schaw þat man of grete honoure ar ȝe.”
Syne was þe powin presentit till Arestes
With ane fare ladie, berare of þe meis,
And he avowit a vow for his honoure,
As he quhilk was a man of grete valoure,
He sould þai ladyis manteine and defend,

226

And lelely serue þame quhill þe were tuke end,
With leif and tolance of Alexander þe king,
Quhome first he sould obey attoure all thing.
Syne was þe powin presentit to Perdicas,
The quhilk in armes ever wourthie was,
Quhilk maid his vow before all þat was þare
That quhan þe battallis baith assemblit were,
He sould licht doun in myddis of þe feild,
In all his armoure, baith with spere and scheild,
And on his fute in battalle sould abide
In myddis þe stoure, betid quhat mycht betide,
And nocht agane as þat day lepe on hors
Bot gif he wan ane in þe feild on force.

Syne nixt to him was sittand Phisonace,
Quhilk maid avow, as scho þat madin was,
That scho sould neuer tak lemman na spousale
Bot be the ordinance and the counsale
Off Alexander, þe nobill conquerioure,
“Quhilk in þis land is cummyn in oure succoure.”
Than Porrus, þat was sittand nixt thareby,
Made his avow before þe cumpaney,
Sayand, bot he had sonȝe racionabill,
Quhilk before all men suld be excusabill,
And he micht mete in feild Emenedoun,
Owthir graith sould birst or sould bere him doun,
“And seis his hors, and lede away with me,
Throw quhilk the battalle sall discomfeist be.”
Syne satt the Baudreane, þat was King of Meid,
Quhilk worthy man was provit in every dede,
Maid vow, and he micht Alexander anys se
In batalle place, þat ane of þame sould de,
Or ellis he sould his suerd fra him arrais,
And bere away in dispite of his face,
Sa fra þe dede þat God wald kepe him first,
Fra lake of hors, fra spere, or lymmys brist.

Than ansurid Caulon, þat him narrest was,
And maid his wow, and h[e] war nere þe place,
That or he past fra thyne ane akir bred,
He sould for-rew þat evir he did þat dede,
That owther he sould þat swerde fra him arrege,

227

Or ellis his hede sould leif him in ostage,
Or eik his elme, fra bouclere, band, or brace,
Attoure his hede on force he sould arrais,
And baith his swerde and helme sould tak him fra,
Or ellis on force his nek sould birst in twa.
Syne efter þat satt madyin Edea,
Quhilk for Bites hir hart was wounder wa,
Quhilk maid hir vow þat, quhill hir lyffe mycht lest,
Hir first luvar sould euer be luffit best,
And evir sa did sen first tyme scho him knew,
Na nevir his lyftime changit him for na newe,
For gold na gere, farehede, lordschip, na land,
Bot it war force þat scho mycht nocht withstand.

Nixt efter þat satt wourthy Leones,
Quhilk maid his vow þat he sould nevir ceis
Quhill he come to King Clarus' pavillioun,
On hors enarmit with his scheild and bourdoun,
And deid of armes of Chaleos clame,
To serf him for his ladeis saik and dame,
And nocht to leif for mannis drede nor aw,
Þocht all þare battall standand be on raw.
Syne efter þat satt gentill Gaudefere,
Quhilk of his eild was wise and wer in were;
He maid his vow, quhan baith the kingis of pride
War in batale arrayit on everie syde,
To Clarus' banner furthwith suld him draw,
And strike it doun, for ony mannis aw,
And syne licht doun and put his hors in reingȝe,
And in handis on force to ceis þe anseingȝe.
Syne efter þat [was] sittand Ydory,
Quhilk oure all luffit þe Baudriane lelely:
Scho made hir vow þat furthwith scho sould ga
With hir cousing, and vþer ladyis twa,
To tempill Marcus to mak sacrefice,
To send hir luffe fare fortoun at devise,
On kneis at prayer, all tyme of þe stoure,
To saif his lyffe, his landis, his honoure.
Than Marchiane, þat was sittand hir beside,
Avisit him of ane vow, as man of pride,

228

And maid his vow þat euerie man mycht here,
That in defence of his lordis bannere,
Quhan Gaudefere had made his interprise,
And sesit had his baner on þis wise,
Agane his will he sould it fra him arais,
Or ane of þame suld leve into þe place.

Than was þe powin departit in þe hall
To lordis and ladis, baith grete and small,
And syne þai passit to dance and revelling,
Sa that the Baudriane, þat of Meid was King,
Micht se þat of þare sege þai had na tocht,
Na for to tak þare plesance sparit nocht.

Than Leonides, quhilk sic ane vow had maid,
Enermait on his hors, but mare ab[a]de,
King Clarus' pavillioun in haist he passit till,
With Caleos his vow for to fulfill,
Quhilk was content, and seruit him in haist,
And furthwith in þe feild enarmit past;
And strake togidder sa treulie in þe scheild
That hors and man lay flatlingis in þe feild:
On everie syde þare was na grete chesoun,
Quhan hors and man was clenly strikin doun.
Than Clarus, quhilk was present, was sa blayth
That hors and man he gart lift vp belife,
And fare giftis he gaf Leonides,
And gart convoye him hame out of peris,
And grete honoure and wourschip did him to,
And chargit all his oist richt sa to do;
And or he past, of trewis þai till him spak,
Sayand, till men of honoure war na lake,
Gif ony lordis tane war presoneris,
To change corpis for corpis, and feris for feris,
And gif sum of þame war of hie parrage,
To tak for þame sum ressonabill hostage;
And gif it plesit party þare devise,
To change first Marchiane for Bites,
And for Porrus and Baudriane, King of Mede,
Thay sould þame greter lordis in hostage lede;
And he grantit his gud word for to do,
Als fast as till his fallowis he come to.

229

And furthwith þare þai ordanid messingeris,
To send in trety for þe presoneris,
And askit þe ladyis, for King Clarus' saik,
That þai wald helpe þe trety for to mak;
And als till Cassamus, for his curtessy,
Thay made request þat he wauld here trety.
The quhilk was done, and changis gevin and tane
For Porrus, Cassaell, and the Marchiane,
And vnder hope of tretise and recorde,
To mak all pece with Clarus king, þare lord.
Thus tua princis for þir lordis was tane
And send away, and Bites for Marchiane.
This Porrus, þat saw his fader at myschance,
Reprevit him sare of his misgouernance.
Than Clarus gart recounfort his menȝie,
Sayand all thing sould wele amendit be,
And all his princis and lordis assembilit hale,
To mak þe ordinance of his battale:
And five battallis he ordanid for to be,
Him-selff, þe Baudriane, and his sonyis thre,
To governe þa[me] and lede alhalely,
With vther princis in þare cumpaney.

Than was Emenedus passit agane
Till Alexander, and tald him of þe trane
Quhilk Clarus to þe citie had purposit,
And how he tocht þe citie til haue posit,
For till asselȝe þe ciete of Effesoun,
And hawe þe wourthy men within þe toun,
With Cassamus, ȝoung Gaudefere, and Bites,
Quhilk in þe were ar worthy men and wise,
Had tane and slane all þat þame leivast war,
And chaist agane Clarus and his power;
And nocht forþi þat he was in þe chais,
To helpe þe ladyis, as wele worthy was,
For he was nocht fryndit with Gaudefere,
And ȝoung Bites he lest nocht cum mare nere.

Than was King Alexander cumin to Pharoun,
And nere þareby plantit his pallȝeoun,
And to þe citie send his messingere,
And ordanid þame þat þai sould mak gud chere.

230

Than Cassamus, quhilk herd of þat tithing,
In haist he passit to Alexander þe king,
And with him Gaudefere and ȝoung Betoun,
And maid þare frendschip with Emenedoun,
And tauld the king withoutin ony falȝe
That on þe thrid day Clarus in battalȝe
Was past for to cum with all power,
And all his princis semblit, fare and nere,
On all sydis the ciete till asselȝe,
To tak on force, or ellis till haue battalȝie.

Than haue þi tald þe vowis to þe king,
The quhilk þareof had litill affraying.
Than ȝoung Bites, quhilk was nocht at þe vow,
Said, “Perdicas, schir, I will pas with ȝow,
On futte in myddis of þe battalle for to wend,
Quhill God and fortoun sum grace till ws send,
And þat as now here for my vow mak I.”
Syne said [ane] knicht of his awne cumpaney
That “Certis ȝe sall nocht pas ȝoure allane—
Ane hundreth in ȝoure cumpaney sall gane
On futte with ȝow, and tak ȝoure aventure,
Of ȝoure awin land, of sturdy men and sture.”
Than says þe king to Cassamus, “Now ga
To Effesoun, and all men reddy ma:
I salbe þare to-morne, with Godis grace,
For ȝitt þis nycht I sall þe ryver pas.”
Thus Cassamus past vntill Effeȝon is;
The king gart sone pluke vp þe palliouns,
And trumpit vp, and oure þe Pharoun past,
[And] tuke bot few men, and of þe wourthiest,
And on the morne arlie to Effeȝoun,
Till mete þe sege þai come to þe toun.
The king send efter þame of [þe] citie,
And bauld thame þat þai sould be reddy:
Quhan-ever þai saw his battalle movand ware,
Thai sould cum on with all þare hale poware;
And of his batale þare maid ordanying,
And taucht his bridill till Caulon in keping,
For on þare vow before sum tocht he had,
That Prince Porrus to the powin had maid.

231

Than King Clarus, quhilk was ane hardy knicht,
Come to þe toun in battall, as he hicht—
Off Alexander gude persaving had he,
Bot for he saw he was sa few menȝe,
He was nocht rad, for he was grete powar,
And had of men ane multetude wele mare.
Bot Alexander, quhilk had nocht his fayance
In multitude, knew wele þare governance,
For men of Ynde ar pompis and fyry,
Thinkand of all men till obeyit be;
And he wist wele þai luffit nocht þare king,
For he was covatus attoure all thing;
And had grete haterent to thame of Calde:
Tharefore in batall ordand he to be
The men of Calde with þe men of Pers,
For þai war woinit togidder in weris convers—
Quhen Gaudefere warrayit with Duke Bites,
With him of Calde war þe men of pris;
And in his awin batall ay ordand he
The men of Grece and Macedone to be:
The quhilkis in all war bot [fiftene] thousand,
And in þe toun war als mony, nere-hand—
Bot King Clarus was thryis or foure tymes ma,
Off quhilkis þare luffit him full few of þa.

Quhat will ȝe mare? Þe bemys begouth [to bla]w,
And all þe chiftianis to the battall draw.
The king mett Claurus cumand to þe toun,
And on the tothir hand þe garnisoun:
On athir hand sic dayntis þare was delt,
On irne paltokkis mony ane hidduous pelt.
Off men of Ynde þare feld was mony ane,
With mekill craith and cry, and taucht machane—
I may nocht bide till tell ilk dele,
Bot everie man þare vowis kepit wele:
Into þe feild Bytes and Perdicas
With tua hundreth on fute doun lichtit was,
And in þe batall kepit þare avow,
And mekill gude þai did, I dar avow,
For þai war ay baith helpe, counfort, and beild
To mony men þat f[el]d war in þe feild.

232

In to the fore-front cumand was Porrus,
Quhilk vowit to streik doun Emenedus,
And he of him was alsa war agane,
And apoun Ferrand mett him in þe plane—
Thay strake togidder baith sa sturdely,
And gouernit thame sa wele and manfully,
And baith at anis þi hitt in myd the scheld,
Quhill hors and man lay flatlingis in þe feild;
And in a glos a quhile þai lay vnstred,
Bot Porrus first recouerit and tuke erde,
And saw Farrand standand his maister by,
And claucht to him, and lap on him in hy.
With that come ȝoung Bites and Perdicas,
And saw Emenedus doun strikin was,
And claucht him vp in handis, and him hynt,
And saw he had na wound na dedis dynt,
And sone on Porrus' [hors] þai haue him sett,
And all þat for to bete was, þai him bett.

Syne come Marchiane, and strak doun Perdicas,
And he, þat richt wise and worthy was,
Recouerit sone, throw helpe of ȝoung Bites,
And all his feris he horssit at all devise,
For sic a counter was made weil nere þame by
That sone horssitt was all his cumpaney,
For Tholome straik doun þare Caleos,
With mony vþer men of Prince Saligos,
And sett his purpois Clarus till asselȝie.
Syne come Schir Cassamus with his battalȝie,
And or he come, Clarus was strikin doun,
For Perdicas sett him on his arsoun—
Thare come Schir Cassamus, and made him reskew,
And as before he hecht to kepe his vow.
Arestes on the King of Pynkirnay
With his battall put him in hard assay.

Syne come þe lord of Baudre, King of Meide,
Richt stoutlie standand in a sturdy stede,
And saw the King of Macedone at large,
And drest in his gere with spere and targe,
And tocht apoun þe vow þat he had made,

233

And to þe king he sett, but mare abade.
The king, þat wele persauit of him was,
Spurd Bussifall, and till him couth he dress,
And baith in myddis þe scheild þai hitt treulie,
Quhill baith þe speris þai braik richt haistalie;
And efterwart, with brandis burnist bricht,
Thay strake togidder with sic a fors and micht—
The king the Baudreane hit apoun þe hewit,
Quhill in þe helme a dempill in he dewit,
And gart him gurwill apoun his arssoun doun.
Than in a bricht þe Baudreane maid him boun,
And to þe king he etlit sic a straik
That in his lyffe he gat nevir ȝit þe maik,
And hit him sidlingis on þe charnale pyn
With all his force, als fast as he micht wyn,
Quhill oure þe sadill he lay in ane suewth.
With that þe swerd out of his hand he drewth,
And turnit his hors, and wauld haue bene him by;
With þat come Caulus richt deliuerly,
And till him hynt, and hitt him on þe hewit,
Apoun þe place quhare þat his helme was dewit,
And clawe þe helme sidlingis, quhill blude out sprang,
And oure his hors sidlingis on side he hang.
Than Caulus has him hitt apoun þe hals,
And of his hand þe swerde he reft out als,
And of his helme he brake baith tye and lasse,
And oure his hede on force he couth it rasse;
And to þe king he taucht þe swerde agane,
Off quhilk þe king was wounder blayth and fane.

Than Saladyne, þe Prince of Salagos,
Thocht with his batall for to wyn grete los,
And sett him for to ourethraw Antigonus;
And Alexander saw þat he sett him thus,
And sett on him, and tuke him at a side,
And he quhilk with gude will sett him to bide—
Bot all for nocht, for sone he strake him doun,
And put his batall to confusioun.
Than was the Caldeanis with Cassamus
In a grete stoure fechtand with King Clarus:

234

Than cummys Gaudefere with his battalȝe,
As he hed hecht, þe baner till assalȝie;
And in a fertyr to sett his spere begane,
And ettellit him apoun þe banerman,
And myssit him nocht, bot to erd him bare;
And syne furthwith he lichtit on him þare,
And vp the banner in his hand he tais.
Than Marchiane saw, and furthwith till him gais,
And he, quhilk mycht nocht fecht and banner saif,
Reft it of þe spere, and into pecis raif;
And Marciane tuke þe banner as it was,
And tocht to life it vp and to radres.

Be that þe force of þame was thrawin doun,
And Clarus' men put to confusioun:
The King of Meid was tane and led away,
The King of Nuby, þe Prince of Pinkirnay,
And slane was Clarus and Caleoȝ,
King Clarus' sonnys, and als Prince Saligoȝ,
And mony vþer of Ynde and Ethiope
In-to þe feild liand in-till ane hope.
Wyth þat the battallis semblit all anone
Off Grece, of Pers, Calde, and Macedone,
And on King Clarus' battall strake alhale,
And bare all doun, and tuke baith will and wale.
Thare was King Clarus slane, and Porrus fled,
And all þat micht eschape, follow him he bad,
And in-till Ynde Maior þe way he takis,
Baith nycht and day, and na delay he makis,
And all his faderis cieteis, townis, and landis
But mare abade he sesit in his handis;
And syne he send his epistill oure all-quhare,
As he quhilk was his faderis sone and air.

Thus was þe feild discomfist and ouregane,
And mony princis and presonaris tane,
And all þe feild dispuleȝede of riches,
And gold and iowell þat but nowmer wes.
Than all the oist is past to þe cietie,
With mekill wourschip and with dignite,
Quhare to þe king cummys dame Phesonas,
With all the ladyis þat in þe citie was,

235

And thankit him of his grace hartfully.
Syne to þe pallyss past þai in hy,
And first þai enterit in þe tempill of Marcus,
And syne into the chalmer of dame Venus:
Bot God watt quhat kyn welecummying þai had,
Quhat feist and ryall chere was to þame made!
And restit þare at eis fourtene dayis,
In hunting, halking, dansing, and in plais.
Ȝoung Gaudefere he made lord of his land,
And all his lordis to him obeysand;
His sister Phesonas þare maryeit he
With ane þe gretest prince in þat countray,
And all þe lordis þat presonaris þare was,
The king þame tuke in frendschip and in grace;
And als gart cry þat quha wauld till him cum,
Thay sould ioy all þare lordschipis with fredome.

How Alexander past fra the batall, and of þe poysond madyn.

Thus hes þe king his leife at ladyis tane,
And trumpis blew, and to þe feild is g[a]ne;
And semblit all his oist and his menȝie,
With thame þat oure þe Pharoun brocht had he,
And in ane land þat callit is Hirknay,
And put it in obeysance halely,
With mony ane vther castell and cuntrie,
Quhilkis in þis buke may nocht all coimptit be.
Syne till ane land quhilk callit is Sithia
He past in oist, and conquest it alsua;
Syne conquest he a natioun callit Nanglos,
Richt creuell folk, and als þe Sitheos.

All þus, as he was makand his conquestis,
And ay betwene disportis he and restis,
And with his lordis makand was gude chere,
Sa come fra Myddill Ynde a messingere
Fra the auld quene, þe sister of Duke Melchis,
With ane ambassiate send in subtell wise,
In conspiratioun of ane grete tressoun:
Scho send a madyn, was norist with poysoun,
In all hir ȝeuthed fed vp of ane child
Off serpend fleche, and blude of dragoun wylde,
Because scho wist þat Alexander was
Richt amorus of ladyis fare of face;
Als scho was of þe propirrest portratoure
That euer was formit of þe goddis of nature,
Baith meik and mylde and swete, of fare having,
And micht for beaute pere be till a king.
And with hir send ladyis in cumpaney,
In state ryall, and cled richt honerablie,
And gar him trow of him to [hald] hir landis,
And [gif] alhale hi[r] lordschip in his handis:
And thus scho tocht for till vndo þe king,
And for þe dede of Clarus, hir cousing.

Than Arestotill beheld till hir attyre,

And saw hir ene was twynk[land] as þe fyre,
And saw scho had a scherp and thirlland luke,
And ay the mare grete tent he till hir tuke.
Than Alexander disirit gretumlie
That ilk nycht with that ladie to lay;
Than Arestotill said, “Fare lord, as þe require,
That in þis cais my counsell þow wauld here—
Thoile hir first bide a day or tua or thre,
That hir maner of lyving men may se.”
Than Alexander þareto consentit sone,
And said, “Maister, I will weill it be done.”

Than put þai hir with vþer ladyis ma—
Bot scho vauld ete na mete with nane of þa,
Na lay with nane in bed, bot hir allane,
Na talk na hald na cumpaney with thame.
Quhan scho had fastit lang, ete scho behuffitt,
And þai hir askit quhat mete scho best lovit,
And gart call till hir hir gouernouris,
Quhilkis of hir mete war hir purveouris;
Bot Arestotill wald thole gif hir na mete
Bot he first saw quhat metis scho suld ete.
Than war hir metis kepit secretlie,
And euer ete hir allane, richt prevatlie;
Than furthwith to bring hir metis scho þame bad:
Hir gardyvyantis with claithis of gold war cled,
And thairin fand þai serpentis reddy grathit,
Quhilkis all þe lordis þat lukit on þame lath[i]t.
Than gart þai preif hir with ane presoner—
Thay gart all nycht ly with þat ladie dere,
And quhan all nycht he lyne with hir had,
Scho wauld nocht thole him tak hir madynhede,
Bot till hir he embrasit him sa [n]ere,
And oft hir kissit, and made hir richt gud chere,
For he wist nocht the perrell þat þare was,
Na þai wald nocht declare to him þe case;
Bot on þe morne he was swollin grete,
That his hert birst, and ete neuer eftir mete.
Than callit þai hir, and sperit þe caus quhy,
And gart hir grant before þe cumpaney
How that the quene þe tressoun had conspirit,

And how the cais on force to hir was girit.
Than birnt þai hir, for drede of poysounying
Of wther folk—scho was so fare ane thing—
And all hir cumpaney þai put to dede,
For all thare conselling, þare counsale, and þare rede.
Thus Arestotill his maister savit has,
And syne to pas to Grece his leif he tais.

Than sais þe king, “My fare maister, latt be—
I may nocht thole ȝe pas sa sone fra me:
Ȝe watt ȝe ar to me sa necessare
That I may nocht forgang ȝow, late na are.”
Than Arestotill said, “Fare lord, for ȝoure saik
Ane Regiment I sall compile and mak,
The quhilk salbe of princis gouernance,
Off all þare conductt and þare ordinance,
How þai suld governe, baith in pece and were,
Quhilk and ȝe kepe, and in ȝoure harte will bere,
It sall ȝow stede to governe ȝow wisely,
Als weill as I war in ȝoure cumpaney—
Tak tent þare-till with hart and vnderstanding,
As in þis buke is eftir following.”

Than callit the king him in private,
And askit him his counsale in secre
In quhat maner he sould him epistillis wrett,
For grouth of lordschip changeing has of dyte,
Quhidder he suld call him sone to god or man,
Syne he throw goddis all hie wourschip wan.
Than ansurid Arestotill in þis maner:
“I will ȝow tell my counsale, sen ȝe spere—
Ȝe suld knaw first þat ȝoure nateuitie
Was be þe goddis providit for to be,
For all suppois þir godis inmortale
May mak na generatioun naturalle,
Thay may committe throw þare directioun
Quhan-evere þame list to mak generatioun.
Thare goddis þai call þare pleinettis and þir sternes,
Quhilkis vnder grete God ledis and governes
All thingis that nature makis of elementis,
And knawis alhale of nature all þe stentis.
Ȝit hald þai vþer goddis in sum regiouns

That apperis to men throw invocatiouns,
And makis þame knaw thingis þat sall efter fall,
And spekis with men, and apperis at þare call:
Thir ar spirituall, and sum is gude, and sum is ill—
Thay knaw þame best þat traistis þame in-till;
Eftir oure merit or our demerit,
Sa ar we led with gude or ill sprete,
Be tholance of þe God vniuersale,
Quhilk gouernes all þe warldit in generall,
The quhilk is weill of wourschip and gudnes,
That all thing ledis and in powar has.
Traist wele, þi conquest and þi hie renovne
Cummys of His tholance and permissioun,
And [n]ocht of þe, bot of þare ordinance,
That vnder Him has all þe governance.

“[Thy] generatioun and natiuitie
Was thus providit throw Him for to be,
To be ane wand of God, into sum cais,
To puneis pepill for þare weiketnes—
Thow knawis thir cruell pepill of barbary,
Wnhonest, beistlike, and full of fellonly,
Quhilkis be ressoun wald neuer reullit be,
Na tak na teiching of divinitie,
Na Moyses' lawis, na law of God na man,
Bot leffis like beistis sen first þe warldit began.
And war nocht þat I watt þow has in the
Witt and knawlege to ken His maiestie,
And haettand vice, luffand vertew and richt,
I suld nocht bide with þe be day nor nycht;
Bot sen I knaw þow luffis wele iustice,
And haittis ill men, and luffis all þat ar wise,
I traist þow be ane send of God almycht,
To fleme falsett, and reule all realmes richt.
Thus, sen ȝe art ane send of God of Hevin,
Thow may be callit his sone, of gudly evin,
Incarnate in þe Quene Olymphias—
King Phillip bot þi foster fader was;
Nocht than he tuke þe barne in-till his lyffe:
He held the as his sone adoptive,
He made þe are in-till his testament—

Thus art þow king by richtwis iugment;
Syne was þow chosin be þe commintie—
Thow may nocht falȝee richtwis king to be;
Syne throw conquest þe warld þe obeyis—
Thus thrinfald richt into þi ballance weyis.

“Sen God hes done þe wourschip in þis wise,
With grace to be baith wicht, hardy, and wise,
Attoure all thing thow suld Him lufe and se[rue],
And pray to Him þat he wald þe preserve
Fra all myschance, dishonoure, and schame,
For man is wer na dede þat has ill name.
Thow he[s] yneucht of cunnying and of witt,
Sa þow haue will and grace to governe it;
For mare lake is to mysgoverne a king
Na ony vther estate, be mekill thing,
For king suld be þe reule and the ballance
Off all his liegis, and þare governance,
For pepill followis þe trad of þare patroun,
The comounis als þe regent of þe toun,
For comonlie þa warld dois as þai se—
Thay think þare dede exempill to þame sould be.

Thus, sen I may nocht pas with the alway,
Kepe wele þis buke, and tak tent quhat I say;
For my grete age and waik prosperetie
May nocht accorde to pas in Ynd with þe,
For þat land his baith hait and perrellus,
Full of ill beistis and dragownes mervellus,
Quhilk in my powar war nocht till endure,
I am sa waik and febill of nature.
And now, sen þow art cumyin to þi glore,
And greter lord na euer þow was before,
Thole nowthir wane glore, covatice, na pride
Thay wourschip and þi wertew smore na hide,
For riches gerris fulis hartis rise,
And honoure changis maneris mony wise,
And erar inclynes to þe ill na to þe gude,
For micht and richess merris mannis mude.
Tharefore haue me excusit, I the require,
And tak þir documentis þat I leif þe here,
And rede þame oft, and kepe þame in þi mynd.”

[Off the Regiment of Princis]

Dout ay þi faa, and to þi frend be kynd,
And schepe þe neuer with blude na crueltie
To hald þi pepill in luffe siker to þe;
Kepe wele iustice, with mercy and swetnes,
And stanche ay covatise with þi larges,
For hie wourschip, hie honoure, and renovun
With covatise restis neuer in a persoun.
Bot covatise cumyis of dubill skill:
Ane is to covate thing þat ressoun will,
That nedis for state of þi persoun,
Thay cumpany, þi wourschip, and renovan,
For to supplie and hald vp þi honoure,
Nocht covatand to hyde gold in tressoure,
For king þat gredy to þe gude þow seis,
Sall neuer haue grete honoure quhill he deis.

We fynd in bukis of men in þare liffe
That foure maner of kingis þai discrive:
The first is fre and large till all men,
And to wyn gude with wourschip weill þame ken,
And can gar all men grow into riches,
And riche him-selff and his realme neuerþeles;
And all with honoure, bot lake or reprwfe,
And with larges thus wynnys of all men luffe.
Ane king may neuer be pure of riche cuntrie—
The mare it riche, þe richer ever is he;
The realme nocht riche is quhare pepill pure is,
Na ȝitt the king þat has him in his curis,
Bot quhan baith riche is pepill and þe cuntre,
That on nede force þe king mon riche be.

Ane vþer kynd of kingis we find þus,
Quhilk till him-selff is na thing covatus,
Bot suffir þame þat may lord-like liffe,
And wourthy giftis to þare liegis giff,
And settis all þare cure and bissines
For he wourschip, hie honoure, and largess,
And settis þare hart till honoure and conquest,
And delis þare wynnying to þe wourthiest;
Na of wrangous gude þai haue invye,
Bot settis þare hart to wourschip halely,

And riches all þare subiectis, far and nere,
And rekkis nocht of þare povertie nor myster;
And disiris to haue na mede þare-fore
But lufe of God and man—and warldis glore,
Na gold in hurd, na riches, bid þai nane.
Thus quhan þai de, þai ar all gold-begane,
For les ill thinkis him but riches for to de,
Na he war riche, and pure all his cuntre;
And proffitable to þare realme þai ar,
And ay thame-selff mysterfull and bare,
For bettir it war to riche ane hale regioun
Na pure ane realme, and riche bot ane persoun.
Thir kingis governis with liberaletie,
And oft excedis the rentis of þare cuntrie—
Thay sett nocht by quhat riches þai consume,
Sa that þa leiff þare land out of thirldome.

Ane vþer kynd of kingis we se in land,
Baith gredy, covatus, and fast haldand,
Quhilk to þare-selff is fre and large ynewch,
And of fredome till all vþeris ar teuch;
And will depart with na gude þat he gettis,
Bot all his hart for covatus he settis,
Nocht rekkand of quhat litill evyn,
Nocht dredand schame, na fede of God in Hevin,
And findis faltis to put men in tynsale,
To ger þame forfett all þare guidis hale.
Thir kingis can find na gud way of conquest,
Bot takis oure all quhill ony gude may lest,
Na rekkis nocht quhat end it may cum till,
And gevis na force bot þai haue all þare will.
To contrare of the tothir king dois he—
To riche him-selff, he puris all his cuntre:
Quhan he is riche, þan all his pepill pure is,
And mony beggare gais fra dure to durris.
Thare is na grece quhare sic men ar ringand—
To riche þame-selff, þai herry all þare land
For malisounis of wrang and ill conquest—
Sic lyffe and lordschip may nocht lang tyme lest.

The ferd [m]a[n]er of kingis þai discrive,
Quhilk neuer is gude to na man in his lyffe,

Quhilk nowther guidis him-selff na his subgess,
Bot reiffis fra all, and kepis na richess.
Thay can wele wyn, with slicht and subteletie,
And syne spendis all in prodigaletie,
In wiketnes and waisting wantonlie,
In welth but wourschip, all vnworthely;
Baith waistis lordis, merchandis, and laboure,
And cummys na proffite to na creature;
In wantoun liffe þe gude waistis alway,
And in his lyffe has neuer a ioyus day.
Na iustice luffis he neuer, in nakyn wise,
Na takkis na counsale of men þat ar wise,
Na can nocht wyn bot at his subiectis handis,
With wrangous custumys stroyand all his landis,
Quhan þat is gane, with vþer subteleteis,
And euer leiffis sua in poverte quhill he deis,
And all his lyftime spendis in wrechitnes,
Nocht luffand law, iustice, na richtwisenes.

This is the werst of kingis þat may be—
Off all the laif, mayst vnworthy is he:
Bot he that riches him-selff and all þe laif,
That king is wourthy wourschip for till haue;
Quha richtuislie can ger richess habound,
Weill wourdie war riches to him redound,
For soith it is, and all men weil it watte,
That but richess na king may hald estate.
Thus quh[a]y can conquest it but schame or syn,
He is wourth richess, and riches sa can wyn;
And als, quha can wyn richess honestlie,
And spend on men with blaythnes honerablie,
Suppois him-selff de pure, and na gude haue,
Ȝitt is he fer mare wourthy þan þe laif,
That takis and revis fra all men vrangouslie,
To riche him-selff, and pure his landis forthy—
Ane king þat conquestis with iniquitie,
And puris his pepill, and stroyis his cuntre,
And haldis na gude, na with na gude can thriffe,
Na had neuer ioyus day in all his lyffe.

A king oure all thing suld desire gud name,
Vnfenȝeand, and for till vmbechew diffame;

Quhat king but caus covateis till haue renovne,
With subteletie and coverit collusioun,
The quhilk till ve[ritie] ar iniuryss:
Suppois a gud man for a tyme vprise,
It may nocht lest, for falsett hes na fete,
For quhen wane glore and veritie can mete,
Weretie garris vane glore sone tak end;
And fra ane king fra hie honoure discend,
The deseis and the pane is mare creuell
A thousand tymes na ony toung can tell,
For mare sorrow is to fall fra honoure hie
Na all the ioy þai had in maiestie,
For wardlis ioy is bordourit euer with sorrow.

To governe wele, grete merit is to king,
For wikkit lyffe may [n]euer haue gud ending,
And þan þe fire þat he has bett him birnis.
For treuth and lawte can nocht seik na hirnis—
Quhare treuth and lawte has na rufe na rest,
Honoure na lordschip may nocht lang tyme lest.
Sum fenȝeis pece throw ypocrasy,
And to wyn gude ay grippand and gredy,
And wenys þat na man seis þare subteletie;
Bot syne, fra be knawne þare iniquitie,
The honoure of þe croun begynnis to dip—
Adew! fare wele, þe honoure and þe lordschip,
For wertew is þe caus of all honoure,
And maist is honorit with ony creature.
And sa sould king honoure all honerabil,
And punyes vicious men and dissavabill,
Command and kepe iustice in his regioun,
And saif his pepill fra all oppressioun;
Mak nocht, na thole, oppressioun na repyne,
Na wrangous custume tak of pepill syne;
Spend nocht his gude in prodigaletie,
Syne reif þe gude quhare na ressoun has he,
And souk þe blude out of his liegis banis,
And garris þame liffe in sorrow and in panis,
Syne, askand vengance, deis in povertie—
For want of gude gerris men vntymous dee:
Than cryis þare angill with ane hie clamoure

To the Makare of humane creature,
And ȝammerand with hie voce and reuthfull stevin,
Askand vengance for þame at þe crovn of Hevin.

Quha sould be mare prudent nor [a] king?
And sett his hart to vertew, oure all thing;
Waist nocht þi wourthy witt, þat God him gaif
To governe vtheris, and his saule to saif.
A king sould think on mornys quhen he [wakis]
That all his governance fra God he takis,
And at His will to put him vp or doun,
For fra Him cummys all dominatioun,
Na bute His grace na thing wele done may be,
For reule and governance of all thing is He;
And, as wise Platone in his buikis proponi[t],
The warldis gude will nocht be wrang disponit.
All thing by nature hes ane gudlie will,
And multitude of princis dois bot ill—
Tharefore a prince may suffice for þis erde,
For be a prince is movit and sterit.
This warld als til ane man may be peris,
For as ane sprite al-hale þir hevynnys steris,
And elementis ilkane in þare regiouns
Gouernis and ledis þare operatiouns,
That is, grete God, quhilk all þis warld gouernis,
Movis and steris þe planiteis and þe sternes,
And oure all thing hes dominatioun;
And vnder Him has ministratioun
Thir angelis, spritis, and intelligencis,
As nature giffis to send þare influencis,
Ȝeildand obeysand to þare creature,
Subordinate be þe godis of nature.
Thus be oure saule we leiff, we mowe, we ar,
We slepe, we walk, we trauel lait and are [OMITTED]
Quhilkis saul makis all þare operationis
Obeysand to þe sprite superlative,
As angelis dois to þe hiiest God of live.

A realme als to ane man may liknit be,
Off quhilk the hede is callit spritualetie—
The prince and nobill suld be þe body þan,

The lauberaris to þe leggis of þe man:
Bot gif þe legeis in law manteinit be,
And body and armes kepe þe spritualetie,
And all the memberis to ressoun obey,
Thay sall gar sone baith hede and body swey;
For mony maistaris makis divisioun,
And throw divitioun disolatioun,
For þare oppinionis ar nocht ay towart.
Thus policy pervertit is bakwart
Quhan crounles kingis a crounit king ourethrawis—
Quhat witt hes he, suppois he kepe na lawis?
Thus spedefull is þat all þis warld here doun,
As is the Hevin, war gouernit with a croun;
For all kyn vertew fro þe Hevin dependis,
All grace and gudnes fra þe Hevin ws send is,
And, as He governis the Hevynnis in vnitie,
Sa suld in erde all thingis governit be.
For mannis saul weill may be liknyt like
As till a king þat governis his kinrik:
Wauld men tak tent to þare awne propertie,
Be semblant in his persoun he may se
How that ane king sould reule him by prudence
Quhan he is in þe sege of excellence.
Thow watte quho I haue techeit þe before,
Quhan þow was in Athenis at my lore,
How mannys saul is thing indiuisibill,
And all knawlege is to it cognisibill;
All craft and sience it can comprehend
That to man kynd permisit is to [b]e kend,
Quhilk is marvell, þat in sa litill a space
May be contenit sa mony giftis of grace;
And als-sa throw þe mydsterne of oure ee,
Baith hevin and erde at anys we may se,
Quhilk is bot a poynt in myddill of þe round
Indiuisibill, þat in a moment stound
Of sone and mone and sternes haue persaving
Fra hicht of hevin—quhilk is ane frely thing,
Sa litil a thing suld present þe figure
Off all þis warld, with all his portrature,
Before oure witt, with all oure properties,

Baith erde and element, as all men seis.

Oure saul is bot a quyknare spirituall,
Indiuisibill image perpetuall,
Formit of God next nature angelike
Off His substance, and till His semblance like,
And treulie may be comparit to ane king,
Quhilk hes ane kingrik in his governing:
Off quhilk the mannys hede is his pallais,
Quhare all his five wittis contenit he hes,
With mony spirits of operatioun
At his bidding, in body vp and doun;
His gouernouris in his hede has hale,
His parliament, his counsale generale;
His officeris of ministratioun
Oure all his memberis spred ar vp and doun—
Five wittis are þare, throw quhilk all knawlege pass
Doun to þe hart, as scheddew dois in glass.
Oure hart is bot ane disire and a will,
Suppois ane lumpe of lyre we likin it till,
Becaus þe liffe first þarein spyrit is,
Quhilk movis all þe body and memberis:
The saule þare rutis and remanes ay,
And last is þare apoun oure deing day;
It hingis in þe myddis of oure bodie,
And all oure memberis movis halely.
Oure will oure all hes fre commandiment,
And all the memberis followis his intent—
The hert may nowther here, na se, na smell,
Bot as þe portaris cummys to him to tell,
Quhilk kepis þe fyfe entres of þe palais,
Quhare his Grete Counsale sittand euer he has,
That is to say, Witt Intellective,
His Memor, and his Witt Indicative,
The quhilkis ar herbreit in þe chalmeris thre
In mannys harnes, ilkane in þare degrie.

Witt is þe first, we call Vnderstanding,
Quhilk has þe first consait of alkyn thing,
Quhilkis fra þe five portaris consait he takis,
And eftir syne to Ressoun knawlege makis;
And he is herbrytt in þe farther part,

Nixt him Ressoun, quhilk gouernis þe mydwart;
Behind him in þe no ddill lyis Memor,
As kepare of all thing þat cummys before:
First Witt consavis, syne Ressoun gevis þe domes,
Syne Memor on his keping all resumeȝ,
And syne schawis to þe hart, and speris his will;
Than, as Will list, all men accorde him till.

Giff he demys vrang, þa[n] cummys Sinceris,
Quhilk Haly Spouk of Conscience callit is,
And schawis the hart that he hes done erroure,
And biddis him haue mynd vpone his Creatoure,
And bringis Dis[cre]tioun in his witnessing,
Off his erroure for to reprufe the king;
And callis him before his Parliament,
And biddis Ressoun schaw furth his iugment
Off all thing that consale had to him schawin,
“Quhilk Memor to þe had made it knawne.”
Than sais the corage—quhilk is callit oure Will,
That to þe king may best be likynnyt till—
“My fais ar cumin in me, with Ydilnes,
With Lust, with Ȝewthhed, and with Wantones,
And brocht with þame Glutoney and Covatese,
With vþeris of my mortale inemyis,
And blyndit me, quhen I was myne allane,
And all my counsallouris was fra me tane,
And braik my purposis, and changit myne entent,
And to þare folyis gart me þus consent;
Quhilk me forthinkis, and I sall mend it sone
With ȝoure counsale, as ȝe think best be done.”

Than sayis Ressoun, quhilk is þe grete counsale,
“Sen ȝe ar sett to governe ȝow alhale
Be oure avise, and at oure ordinance,
Than ar ȝe wourthy to haue þe governance.
Þocht ȝe be king with power absolute,
To giff ane wrangous dome it war na bute:
Suppois for aw ȝoure counsale thole it stand,
Nocht þan all gud men wilbe murmorand,
And warry God, suppois ȝe witt na thing,
And pray to God þat schorte tyme ȝe be king,
And þat ȝour sede rute nocht, nor haue no rest,

And send ane king þat luffis lawte best.
Syne sould ȝe send Consideratioun,
For till inquire at al þe hale commoun
How ȝe ar demyt, and quhidder ill or wele,
Quhilkis vnfenȝete suld send ȝow al þe feil—
To mend ȝoure falt þan war it grete honoure.”

Ane lord but lake may gane-call his erroure—
Þocht ȝe be king and singulare iusticere
With all powar, ȝit sould ȝe counsale spere,
Na iuge neuer man agane gude conscience—
Than war ȝoure saul condampnit, but diffence.
Giff ony man rebellis to þe croun,
Nocht kepand law with executioun,
Than all the memberis ill disposit is—
Mistemper ane, garris ma ga a-mys.
Thus, quhan oure will conformis it to ressoun,
The wertewis of oure body, vp and doun,
Contenis in þe hele and gude prosperetie,
And quhan þai disobey to veretie,
That lust and will concordis nocht to ressoun,
Than excess makis ane wrang proportioun,
And all the memberis ar at grete discorde.
Quhan ressoun is na thing obeyit as lord,
Than cummys of nature þe grete innemye,
That is, of proportioun in-equaletie
Of humouris—of oure hele conssuative,
Quhilk kepis þe corpis, and haldis lang on lyfe—
And fra þe memberis subtractioun;
And throw þat, change oure complextioun,
And, fra oure gud complexioun changit be,
Bot we haue some remed, þan mon we de.

Thus may oure saul richt be liknyt like
As till ane king þat governis a kynrik;
And nocht forþi þat of kingis speke we,
All kynd of men to king may liknyt be
That governis him bot lak to God and man—
He is worth be king þat governe him sa can;
Suppois he be nocht lord of toure na toun,
He micht richt wele for wourschip bere þe croun—
Giff he luffis law, vertew, and veretie,

He is owdir king, or kingis fere suld be.

A king sould hait all men þat ar gredie,
For covatise to law is innemye:
And grydines engendris ay lesing,
And lesing bringis invy, attoure all thing,
And ay invy engendris fule haterent,
And haterent beris ay fede in his entent,
And of haterent cummys ay bargane and strive,
Quhilk garris mony a gud man tyne his lyffe;
Off striffe and bargane cummys oft mortale were,
And all þis cummis for gredynes of gere.
For were distroyeis realmes and citeis—
The land is lost quhan all the pepill deis,
And litill wourth his ryall maiestie
Quhen lost is land and law, men and citie:
And all þis cumynis of wratheit covatesie,
The fader of falsett, and þe ground of vice.

Bot quha him foundis on treuth and veretie,
And dowis his hart in vertew and lawte,
And all his hart delites in soithfastnes,
Traist wele þat þare sal follow him ay grace.
Bot quhare falsett is maister of veretie,
With Goddis wand quhill þat he chaisteit be,
The Haly Gaist may mak na residence,
For falsett makis þe dewill obediance,
And soithfastnes is moder of all vertew:
For in lawte all thing begane and grew,
And in gud faith all iustice first was foundit,
And in iustice all gudlynes was groundit,
All governance and all gud polycie
And all gud workis ar nurisit halelie;
Off quhilkis þare cummys traistnes and confidence,
Quhilk makis princis to haue obedience.
Quhat war lordschip, gevin war nocht lawte?
How sould castell or ciete kepit be,
Or oblegatioun, hecht, or ȝitt promeis?
Of gud faith keping ay cummys fryndfulnes,
And to frendschip þare cumyis luferent ay,
And efter luferand largess, money way;
Of luferent syne cumyis familiaretie,

Gude conversatioun, with benignitie;
Of conversatioun cumyis gude nychtborage,
Gude companey, gude luste, and mariage,
Quhilk makis lauchful airis til habound
Till kingis and lordis, þat governis all þe ground.
War nocht gud faith, lawte, and weretie,
Within schorte tyme þis warld sould falȝete be,
For ilkane elike maister wald be þan,
And for sic caus þe first weris began;
And þarefore kingis war ordand for to be,
And vþer laware princis of degrie,
T[o] gere þe pepill kepe obediance
And kepe lawte, to be in þare defence,
And to kepe law, iustice, and equitie,
As war maist proffeitt for communite.

A king suld fle all bestiall appetite,
Vnhonest and onproffitabil delite—
Off sic cumyis lus[t]e and lufe carnele,
And puttis away all plesance spirituall,
And garris a man to vicis be inclynit,
And puttis all gudlie vertewis of his mynde,
And mony inconveniencis drawis him till,
And oft tymes levis þe gude, and takis þe ill,
And bringis ane man to mekil sturt and striffe,
And at þe last in perrill saul and liffe.
And als it feris wele to ane nobill king
To be prudent and wise in his speking,
For all princis [ar] haldin for mare habil,
To be in þare promising honerable.
And syne all thing with counsale þat he do,
As euer he thinkis to cum hie honoure to,
For how-so-euer it happinnit efterwart,
He sall neuer haue dishonoure of his parte—
And happin it wele, he hes the honoure hale,
And happin it ill, all [w]i[t]is his counsale.

It is þe first poynt of a kingis croun,
Of gude and ill to mek diuisioun,
Punys þe tane, and gud till vþer do,
And hald the law evinly till he and scho,
For kingis honoure standis maist in iustice,

Till honoure vertew and to punys vice.
Ane king sould be of haly liff and clene,
That his bonte til all gud folk war sene;
Nocht mell him with small wrechit besines—
His small materis with small men ay repes,
On he materis ay travell his prudence;
Þocht he be sterit in hart, schaw ay clement;
He sould be laith to boist or mak ventance,
Disire of all men frendschip and alliance,
Giff it may be, and nocht of honoure laik;
Haue piete of all pure, for Godis saik,
Luffe wele his folk þat wourth war to luffe,
And hant na man quhare lak or h[e]s repruffe;
He suld be leif til here, and laith to speik,
Leiffull to mercy, and euer laith to wreik,
And quhat he spak, it suld be rate and stabill,
And all his [w]ordis suld be veritabill.
Ane kingis word suld ay be haldin dere—
The wourd is euer þe hartis messingere;
He suld but favoure wey þe ballance ewin,
Till His semblance þat governis all þe Hevin,
And mak na difference of na personage—
Of ane mater is maid baith prince and page,
And oft tymes of þe prowder he takis þe pure,
And of grete cuntreis gevis him kepe and cure.

And quhen he sittis to iuge equite,
He suld be full of iustice, with piete,
Swey neuer on side, to na man be parciall,
His ene to [erthe], his hart to God al hale;
Accuse na man, latt parte to party pleid,
Be nocht changeabill, for gold, frendschip, na fede.
He suld be laith to vengance, leiff to grace,
To ewill tyrandis schew ane crewell face,
Ger swete men ay þe swetnes of him smell,
And euer-mare iustice with mercy mell.
Giff he be into iustice negligent,
He beis punyst for wrangous iugment—
He suld think quhat punycioun and vengance
Cumyis oft to kingis for þare mysgovernance,
As þow may se be Dare and Nicholas,

The quhilk for falt of iustice hatit was.
Tha[r] may neuer grace inter in þat regioun
Quheire iustice has na dominatioun:
Iustice riches þe pepill and þe land—
Quhare it is nocht, all sorrow is ringand.
Þocht þow may nocht all faltis here and se,
Committe lele men in þai absence for þe,
Trew, faithfull men, þat luffis na averecie,
Expert in lawis, and conduct in police,
Grete, michty men, þat dredis nocht, for aw,
Na d[r]edis nocht for myster to fell law,
Quhilk dredis God and þare awne conscience,
Na ar nocht full of sleuth na negligence.

Quha may governe but visdome and iustice?
Quhare is visdome but with men þat ar wise?
Giff þow garris fulis governe vnder the,
It war nocht like, ane wise man thow sould be.
Wise men ar nocht ay gretest of estate,
Bot chosin for þe wissest þat men wate,
For wisdome followis nocht to dignitie,
Na takis na hede to gre[te]nes of degre,
Bot quha most luffis God, vertew, and iustice,
To mannys sicht is here maist haldin wise,
And to do law to be ay reddie boun,
The kirk honoure, and proffeitte to þe croun.
Sen kingis may nocht all lawis haue in mynd,
Thai suld haue wise men with þame quhare þai wynd,
Wise, wourthy men, þat has þe lawis in wrette.
In mony hedis is oft tymes mekill witt—
Ane king is bot a man be him allane.
Quhat is he wourth, bot as a stok or stane,
Bot gif he for his wourschip mak defence,
And gar his folk mak him obedience?
Quhat is ane king worth bot dis[cre]tioun
Off hie prudence to governe his regioun,
Bot as ane ass war crovnit in scornyning?
For but honoure sall end his governing
Off thing þat he belangis antrusly.
Thow suld trow grete clarkis of astromoney,
And sett þin hart to wourth governance:

Think how þ[i]ne honoure hingis in ane ballance,
The commoun proffeitt in þe contrepas,
Quhilk may be tynt throw þin vnwourthyenes,
For giff þow will þat God and man lufe þe,
Schaw furth gud will ay to þi commintie.
Howeuer it be þe king hes all þe lufe [OMITTED]
Quhan þai ar pure, þow art þe purer fer—
Than sall þow baith þe wite haue and þe wer.
Tharefore be euermare to þi commouns kynd—
God luffis þe man þat is all commouns freynd:
Quha euer best luffit with þe commouns be,
Best luffit with God, and nerrest God is he.

The principall poynt of all þi governance,
The law of God to manteine and avance:
Honoure clergie, and found scolis of lare,
Wourschip wise men, and lufe þame euermare,
Giff þame liffing, and þi regioun defend;
Pay þi seruandis, and gif þame for to spend—
Thole na gud man na wise to vant spending,
For dout þai sell þare saul for þare liffing;
And with wise men hald disputatioun,
And ay be movand þame sum questioun
That rypis þi witt, and makis the to be wise,
Gerris þe leif ydilnes, and hait folyeis;
And quyte all gudlie men aftir his desert,
In þi default to tyne na mannis hart,
And honoure all men aftir his merite,
Thare state, þare vertew, and þare gud condit;
And with counsale provide in perrell all,
That suddane cais gar nocht þi honoure fall,
And forese perrell of þe tyme to cum,
That þow fall nocht in wayis þat ar wilsum,
For lichtlyare hurtis þe thing þat ar forsene,
Na but provisioun cumin it had bene.

A king sould ay be full of patience,
And thole na thing agane gud conscience,
Sell lufe gud chape, and of haterent be laith;
Luffe nocht lichtlie quhare þow art hartlie wraith,
Na sell nocht þi dishonoure for request,

Na lak na loif at nane vtheris behest,
Bot gar þame knaw þat þow has witt and feil—
Than will þai baith þe dout, and lufe þe wele,
For mekill honoure fallis til ane king
That is prudent in all his governyng.
Maist fyne and pretius clething suld þow haue,
That þow be like þe king attoure þe laif;
And quhan þow spekis, þow suld spek he and clere,
That all þat in þe place [ar], mycht it here,
And seild spek, with wourdis all of witt,
As all his wordis sould be put in wrette,
And all of visdome speik in audience,
And efter syne to clois, and kepe silence.

A kingis estate als suld be seildin sene,
And tak plesance and blaythnes ay betwyne,
Nocht to be commoun in conversatioun
To sempill men, of law conditioun,
Na with na man for to convers lawlie,
Na wiked men thole in his cumpaney—
Quhen ryall maiestie is oure comoun,
The autairetie is degradit of þe croun.
A king suld haue fere placis of plesance,
With men of music of diuers ordinance,
In lefull plais and occupatiouns,
To put away all tediaciounis;
Be blayth of chere, and be [of] lauchter my[ld]e,
Nocht licht of feris, na ȝitt of maneris wilde,
Nocht he[th]ingful, of na man mak scornyning,
For þat efferis nocht till ane nobill king,
Na thole na[ne] scorne na bourd with þai honoure,
For þat is caus of dede and forfaltoure.
Mak na man caus for to speke ill of þe,
And preis to wyn ane gude name or þow de,
For of all riches, gude name is þe sunne—
To gud name may be na comparisoun.
Haue pitie of persoun petiabill,
And mercy of all cais þat is merciable;
In tyme of plentie, think on grete distres
Quhilk in tyme of povertie regnand was:
Wesie girnallis, gar victuallis cum be se;

Thole na wrechis to gar pure pepill de,
And hurde the corne, to kepe it till a derth,
With malysounis baith God and man to wreth.

In medicene, of hale experience,
The maist sickir is to kepe abstinence,
Be m[e]s[u]rabill, and to liff sobirly,
And of gud thing to live evir ioyusly,
With vnȝementis, baith bathing and resting,
With wourthy smellis and sich, of hartlie thing;
Here blaith gistis, and oft tyme rede romanis;
Mak oft vomytis, and fle all displesance,
And change oft metis, as askis þi sessoun;
And kepe þe wele fra poisoun and tressoun.
Revele nocht reddy þe secreitis of þi hart,
Kepe wele þai treuth, þi faith, and þi forethwart,
For opin hart oft takis ane opin fall,
And fals of faith is defamit oure all;
For fra gud faith anys defamit be,
Cummys nevir agane til honoure of lawte.
And knaw þame wele þat luffis þ[i]ne honoure
Be þame þat luffis þi gude and þi tressoure,
And traist wele, quha-sa gadderis to þe gere,
Sall nocht be proffitable in tyme of were;
Bot luke quha hes his guidis and his bodie
At þi seruice and bidding maist reddie,
Na is nocht covatesie na sare cravand
Alsa lang as his awne guidis may be lestand.
Na hald na tulȝeouris in þi cumpaney,
Na dronkin men, na creuel, na gredy,
Na fenȝeitt men, na woistrouris, na learis—
Quhare þai ar, all þe cumpaney wer feris.
Hald harkynnaris in all collaciouns,
Gif ony makis conspiring of tressouns,
Na be nocht leffull to deffoule na wey,
Na ding þi seruandis oure dispetuouslie,
For wourthy hart may nocht wele strakis bere,
And haitrent sal neuer helpe þe in þi mystere—
Gude hart had levar haue woundis sare bledand
Na tak ane blaw of his awne maistaris hand
In publike place, for his mysgovernance:

In secrete blame, and in publict avance,
Than will þi seruandis baith þe lufe and dout;
And do þow vþer wayis, withouttin dout
Thai will think on þe quhan þow hes all forȝett,
And litill fa oft may mak mekill lett—
Wise ma[n] dissimillis, for dout of mare to tyne,
And thinkis þareon, and qwitis efter syne.

Off the phisnomye

Till all thy batallis ordand gouernouris,
In quham þow may maist traist in þine honouris,
And cheis þe men with all gud proporteis,
As in þe buke of phisnomy þow seis,
Baith stark and stoure, of gud proportioun;
And alsua langand þare conditioun,
Quhare þow sall se þare proporteis alhale,
Quhome to refuse, quhome to þi service wale,
Baith of þare fassoun and þare phisnomy,
And all þare feris, and giftis of þare body,
Thare hyde, þare hare, þare fassoun, and þare semblance,
Thare speiche, þare luke, þare gang, þare contenance,
Thare voce, þare hew, and þare complexioun,
Be all þe partis of þe body, vp and doun.
And oure all thing first counsale I þat þow
Fra man mysmade of nature vmbechew,
[M]ankit, dememberit fra nature of mankynd,
For commonly þa[i] haue ane aukwart strynd,
For [quhay-sa] falt has in his natiuitie,
In his conditioun fa[l]tles sal nocht be,
Bot gif þat þai throw vertew þame refrenȝe,
And throw þare witt þare wikkit will constrenȝe.

And first at mannys hare ȝow tak knawlege:
Giff þai be ȝoung, bot nocht oure tender of age,
Giff it be dosk, ȝellow, broun, or blak,
Eftir þe land, the hare is nocht to lake;
Giff it be rede, be wer, for few is wise
Quhan hede and berd is hewit on sindry wise—
Thay can of falshede and subteletie,
And to begyle þai ar richt wounder sle,

And quhare þe falt of falsett rignand is,
Thare may na vertew ring þare, as I wis.
Soft ȝellow hare is takin of gude ingine,
And abill baith to craft and clergy syne,
With mansuetude of swetnes and clenes,
With habilnes of witt and hie prudence.
Richt reuch of hare betaknys scharpe nature,
And hie of blude, with gudlie protrature,
With gude culloure and gude chere of wissage,
And wele favorit of fassoun of corssage;
And, be [thay] nocht wele favorit, but vnfre,
That is takin of grete diuersitie,
Of nature horabill and vnressonabill,
And perrellus and till all vicis habill.
Quhan breist and bak and browis all ouregrowis,
Vnfrely made, with birnand ene þat glowis,
It is nocht spedefull with þame to haue dail
Na hald þame into cumpaney speciall,
Bot gif þai contrar to þare nature be,
And governe þame be law and veretie.

Ane large forehede, with browis semlie sett,
Nocht rouch, hary, with campis hingand plett,
Bot small and lengȝhe, and of gude compas,
With vþer properteis endlang þe f[a]ce,
With b[l]ak or broun or gray, fare ene and grete,
Nocht goigland, or fer out na fer in sett—
Thir ar the taknynnis of wisdome and iustice,
Off luffe and lawte and to [be] kyndlie wise.
The ene of quhilk þe sterne drawis to þe blew,
That maist is liknynit to þe hevinlie hew,
That is ane takin of pece and equitie,
Off gud witt, lufe, prudence, and cheretie;
And quha hes ene goigland out oure his face,
Betaiknys ire and pride and wilfulnes,
Inwye, but schame, swere, inobedient,
And, be þare wauwill, þe war in þare entent.
Quha sa has ene rynnand contynuallie,
It is ane full ill takin, traist wele treulie;
And quha sa hes rede ene, withoutin dout,
Thay salbe fund blak, hardy, and stout,

And, be it woman, scho salbe bald of kynd,
And vnschemfull to wreik quhan scho is leynd.
Bot ene of twyn cullouris all men may rew
Quhan ilkane e is of ane sindry hew:
Bot gif vertew haue dominatioun,
That ressoun may be lord attoure passioun,
Thay ar þe werst þat euer bare creature,
Or euir war made or ordand by nature—
Saiffand þe ene þat ar of alkin hewis,
Quhilk God and nature of all mankynd rewis:
Quhan alkin hewis ar spruttit in þe ene,
With spottis of blak and rede and quhyte betwene,
Thare followis oft my[s]fassoun of wissage,
And mekill mare of conscience and corage,
And as-like ene oft schawis litill mude,
And mekill quhite waverand ene war neuer gude,
And sand-blind ene ar schamefull, commounly,
And feneȝeis oft, becaus þai ar fawte;
And glowrand ene ar corsand in þe sicht,
Ar thrawin, and full of subtell[e] and slicht;
And quha sa skellyis, with ane e lukland by,
Thay ar inclynit to vicis commounly.

Quha stotand, glourand, with ane sembland stout,
Thay ar nocht hale in harnis, haue ȝe na dout,
For in þare forehede fallis sum franyssing,
Quhilk bringis þame oft tymes in a rauyssing,
That sic ane francyis, and ane fantasye
Makis þame, but raddour, abill to folie.
And quha with sade chere hes ene dede and still,
Inclynnit ar reddie till vncouth ill;
And quha sa lurkand ene has, ay lauchand,
To lichory ar mekill inclynand,
And als to dissaue and sleith þare nature is,
And mak sembland þat þai can do na mys.

Quha wynkis, with his ene, and nodis als,
It cummys wele of kynd for to be fals;
Quha lukis on side, and haldis þare hede on wrey,
And fenȝeis to mak small ene dangerusly,
Thay ar dissimiland, fenȝeand, and vntrew

Off luffe, and abill to dissaue ynew.

Quha has ane lenȝhe neis, thyne and wele made,
Ar hichty, brethfull, and full of lichtlyhede;
Bot grete lang nos, haukbeik, before dippand,
Hie in þe myddis, as griffoun beik rysand,
Ar wicht and manfull, as commounlie is pruvit,
In pece and were richt wourthy to be luvit;
And quha hes neis in mydwart law and schorte,
Keppand before, ȝow may wele knaw þat sort—
Thay ar aukward and illwilly of kynd,
Donsocht, crabbit, angry quhan þai ar teynd,
To murthur and mysdede reddie ay,
And will nowther kepe kyndnis, lawte, nor fay,
And reddie will mak ane forfattoure,
Bot grace and vertew bridell þare nature.
Giff þai be nocht oure snak, bot mesurabilly,
Vpsett before, sic takynnis ar wourthy;
Weill favorit in þe visage and þe ene,
Off hide and hare and voce and culloure clene,
Blayith lauchand chere, traist þare cumpaney,
And kynd for kyndnes sall do reddely—
Gude fallowschip þai luffe attoure all thing,
Cur[t]es and fre and gentill of þare spending.

Giff þai be nerrow-thirllit, of speiche rous,
Thai ar donsocht, to ansure at rabous;
Quha hes nois bra[i]d, [t]akin at mydwart,
And schorte before, fer keppand vpwart,
Has mony wourdis fals, and litill effect,
With vþer faltis followand in þe nek—
Quhen þow þi seruandis to þe were wauld wale,
Do thame nane ill, nor haue with þame na dale.
Ane mydlin nois, þat nowthir oure hie nor law is,
Quhilk in a gudlie phisnomy men knawis,
Attoure þe laif suld maist commendit be,
With wþer proporteis, as forsaid haue we.

Quha has ane mekill mouthe, wide and large,
With keppand nois, oure-hingand as a barge,
Thai ar manfull and hardy men of prufe,
Gude of langage, and worthy for to luffe,
Quha hes thik lippis, grete and vngudely,

Ill maid, vnhartfull, all laith and vnlufely,
Ar oft tyme full of foly, and fulich,
Nocht wise, ewill taucht, full of vngudely speiche.
Quha sissoure-lippit is, scharpe and thyn,
Scharpe of þe nabe, and scharpe als of þe chyn,
Traist wele þai ar bayth nerrow and nedy,
Baith covatus, fast-haldand, and gredy,
And has a toung to sett þare wourdis sharply,
To flite and chide, and to speik velany.
Quha hes fatt face, ill favourit and flechly,
Thik and churylly, with lumpis vnlufely,
Thay seme to be vnhabill be nature,
For God giffis oft wisdome a gud figure.

Quha has ane lenȝe vysage, of gude fassoun,
Weill favorit, betaknyis gude perfectioun:
Sa hede and hare and hew accorde þaretill,
He sould be ressoun haue ane gudely will,
And habill als to craft and clergy,
And wele inclinit to vertew commonly.
Quha has ane vissage fatt, schorte, and suollyn,
With keppand nois, with cheikis and tempillis bollyn,
Wyth litill hew, of culloure vermyllioun,
Orpy growis in þare arbere all sessoun.
Quha has ane blosit face, with hevy cors,
Son of gluttony mon be on force.
Quha has ane vissage schorte attoure mesoure,
With nek and body schorte of portratoure,
With nois and lippis listand vp agane,
To fle fra his cumpaney mak þe be ane—
Quhare nature falȝeis his proportionis,
Thare followis oft tymes ewill conditionis.
And quha sa visage has oure lang, vnfre,
Giff it ill favorit and ill collorit be,
Traist wele þat persoun is iniurious,
Subtell, invius, and malicius.

Quha has ane hede excedant grete and fatt,
Nocht till his vþer memberis accordant þat,
It signefeis beistiall conditionis,
Wyth carnelle appetete, and but ressouns.

Quha has ane crag vncumly, lang, and small,
With litill dotill hede, and round withall,
And oure grete body to avenand,
Thay ar commonly þe maist cunnand.
Quha has schorte nek, with schulderis hie and stricht,
Suppois þe laif wele fassonit be at richt,
He is subtell, fals, fleischeand till his lorde,
And of few men þe gude he sall recorde.
Quha has þe crag grete, swoun hede and body,
Off kynd he is þe sonn of lichery,
Or of glutony, or baith togidder tua,
And commonlie þare followis faltis ma.
Quha-sa has mekill eris, syde hingand,
It is grete takin he is vncunand;
And quha oure litill eris has to his stature,
It is ane takin of sum falt in nature.
And quha-sa has his speiche gros and ground,

With wourdis clere, vnwemmyt, hale and sound,
He is baith bald and stout, of gude langage,
Off eloquence, of gud witt and knawlege;
And quha-sa has ane pipand voce and small,
And waik and wayndand in þare sprete withall,
That is ane takynning of ane vaik corage,
And baith with falt of lawte and langage.
Or quha-sa stutis and mantis, or spekis haistaly,
Ar covatus, fast-haldand, and gredy
With mony wilis and subtelleis of mynd,
Invious, sturtand, crabbit, and vnkynde,
Pres[u]mpteous, haisty, and wþeris wald supprise,
And laith to do ressoun, mony wayis.

Quha quhilum spekis swift, and quhilumis slaw,
Be þat a diuers nature may men knaw,
For hide invy and fellony is nocht schawin
Quhill man in his conditionis be knawin.
Quha has a voce slekit, baith soft and swete,
And in his mouth melt buttir will nocht lete,
Thay draw oft out of men with þare langage,
And garris þame wene þai haue a gude marage—
As ane fowllare, quhan he wauld foulis tak,

With his suete note he drawis þame to the nett.
Quha spekis oure oft, and ay is traitland new,
He may never laik of lyere and vntrew;
And he þat oure soildin is, and spekis oure still,
Traist wele he has ane hede vnwourthy will—
The wattir þat rynnys is clere and kyndly gude,
Ane standand watter ay stinkis in þe mvde.

Quha has ane large breist, with schulderis brede,
With memberis mete, and tharefore manly maid,
With lang armys, and handis fare and sture,
With all þe laif of memberis of measure,
That is ane takyn of grete stremyte,
In dede of were or battell for to be.
And quha-sa has ane waldin subtell bak,
Is pridfull, sle, invious, leif to lak;
And quha lute-bakkit is, withouttin were,
Is hudepik, hirtoun, wreth in all maner.
Thyn, nerrow schulduris is hurtland and sogrand—
Thai ar disparit of grete God all-wieldand,
And evir to want gude ar in drede and dout,
And wynnys þis warldit sall falȝie þame all out.

Lang armes ar takin of larges,
Gentreis, fredome, with strenth and hardines,
And schorte armes ar takynnying of discorde
And nerrownes, is evill settand till ane lord.
Lang armes, with lang fengeris, waldin and fare,
Till all craftis richt wounder habill ar,
Bot schorte handis, with schorte fingeris and grete,
On subtell craft sall neuer be wele sett.
And quha mekill wame has, wittirly,
It is ane takin of hicht and lichery,
Off gluttony, presumptioun, and arrogance,
And but riches, of sympill governance.

Thik hanchis brade, with fillattis stark and stoure,
Grete brawnit, and wele made at all mesure,
With gudlie fassoun, baith of fute and hand,
And weill breistit, of visage wele farrand,
In mydlin way of compositioun,
Off hare als dosk, or ȝellow, blak, or broun,
With gudlie chere, wele favorit in visage,

Myngit with rede, and of gud mesurage,
Broun, blak, or gray þe roundale of his eye,
Clere-vocit and hale—þat is a man for the.
Quha has fatt pudding leggis, vnlufely made,
Lous-fleschit, with mysfassounit fete and brade,
It is to traist þat all þe remonand
Is nocht to prise quhan þat is mysfarand,
For efter þat þare followis commonly
Misgoverance, wanwitt, and grete foly.
And litill feitt is takin of narrones,
And hard of nature, and ful of wrechitnes,
That excedis, be mesure of nature,
Les na it aw to be of portrature.
Quha sa in ganging ha[s] stedfast pais,
Thare followis oft proporteis of grace,
And quha sa nymmyll gais, and haistalie,
And schapis to do his dedis suddanly,
Sic men ar importune [and] kittill,
And habill als ane richteous caus to spill.

Quha is of feris licht, and cast of hede,
And can nocht stedfastly stand in a stede,
All men may wele consaue and vnderstand
Lichtnes of witt cummyis efter followand.
Ane man that kekis and copyis vþer men,
And smyrk lauchtand gais but and ben,
In kirk or mercat or in wþer place,
Thow sall knaw be þe compas of his face
That of his dedis þare sall litill prow—
Quha luffis his honoure, sic ane suld vmbeschew.

Bot will þow cheis of man of all bewteis,
Quhat man of gudlie fassoun þat thow seis
Is manly maid in all his portratoure,
And has ane gudlie favore in his figure,
And haldis gude mesure in all his proportioun,
Off hede, of body, of lymmes vp and doun,
Wele collorit and wele fleschit, as efferis,
And in his visage gudlynes apperis,
And is of feris cunand and manlike,
And that na faltis forsaid him intertrik.
Bot haue in mynd þir vþer proporteis,

As in þis buike before wrettin þow seis.
Sett þow nocht by of quhat hare þat he be,
Sa dowbill rede hare haue na dail with þe;
Off stedfast blyith luke, hale of countenance,
In mydlin way of all his governance,
In all proportioun als betwene þai tua,
Nor hie nor law, nor fatt nor lene alsua,
Nor in his sicht þare be no lake to se,
For mony faltis ar knawne be þe eye—
The gudly suete luke commonly is kynd,
And soft-hydit ar gude of witt and mynd,
And gudly face, nocht oure fatt nor oure large,
Off quyk culloure, nocht oure lang at outrage,
Nocht ledin-hewit, nor blawin, blak, nor bare—
W[ele]—favorit blake is gudly with sic hare;
Nocht suelland-chekit, no tempillis risand hie,
Bot efter his gudlie mak and quantetie;
Nocht oure grete wame, no cleyngit in þe breist—
In mydlin way þe wertew is evir neist.
And gadder in þai mynd þir poyntis hale,
Nocht all to lake, nocht all to love and waile,
Bot haue ay gude consideratioun
Off forme and culloure and conditioun—
It sall the mekill proffeitte and availȝe.

Thare is na reule bot sum tyme it will falȝee,
For mony men has witt so excellent
That ressoun in thame gevis sic iugment,
And movis þame with grace into sic wayis
That magre þare complextioun þai worde wise,
And fors þame agane þare appetite,
And garris ressoun fecht with þare delite,
And all agane þare nature and fessoun
Thay conquest þame a new conditioun,
Owtherane throw vertew conquest be clergy,
Throw visdome, grace, or throw gude cumpaney;
Bot quhen a man suld iuge þare by vissage,
Wenand þare fassoun suld giff þame knawlege,
Than apoun dede þai fand ane wþer way—
Thare reule fallȝeis, þai watte nocht quhat þai say:
As happinnitt vpone wise clark Ypocras,

Quhilk vnwittand iugit a[nd] payntit was,
The quhilk was tane efter his portrature,
Ane of þe werst þat euer formit nature.
Quhen of the phisonomy he rede in scule,
His childer wend he suld haue bene ane fule,
For all the takynnys of vnliklynes
Off ill fassoun was foundit in his face;
Than iugit he, and of þe richt sua said,
Off quhilk his scollaris war richt ill appaid,
And pocht þat he had said agane gud faith;
And quhan he saw þat his bairnis war wraith,
He spred þe caus, and þai him tald alhale,
Off quhilk þai said þai had grete mervell,
For in þe wardlit þare was nane mare vertewus—
How mycht he be þan þat he iugit þus?

And he ansurid, and bad þame think na ill,
For he wrocht euer þe contrare of his will,
For he wist wele, had he his will fulfillit,
Aganis þe way of vertew he had willit,
And slane his saull, and done his dampnatioun,
And this throw force he governit be reasoun
Agane his proper nature appetite,
To saif his saull, and forto wyn merite.
Tharefore suld na man iuge alanerlie
Be properteis of visage and body,
Bot gif þare liffing first þai vnderstude,
For oft vnlikly thing may be full gude
Quhare ressoun has hale dominatioun
Oure mannis beistiall inclinatioun.
All thus ane worthy king suld euermare do
In vertew, nocht inclynand his lustis to,
For of ane king it is a mare tinsale
Na of ane thousand vþeris pepill smale,
For quhyl ill pasture ill exampill gevis,
Syne all þe pepill in sic maner liffis.

Thus sall ane king in all his governance
Kepe his persoun in lordlike ordinance,
Be reule of prudence and vertwis cardinallis,
As in þe morall buikis wrettin hale is;
And tocht þow find be þe complexioun

Thy will inclynit to ill conditioun,
Think wele þan þat þi merite is gretar
Na it in þi awne nature growin war,
For think þat nature gevis is les merit
Na quhan it cummys of rewlit appetit,
For honoure of oure Makar and oure Lufe,
To wyn þe lestand ioy with Him abufe.
We war nocht maide in lustis here to liff,
Bot all oure hart and seruice to Him gif,
For traist wele, He that is oure allaris Lorde,
For gude and ill sall punys and revard.

And syne, quhan þow has wisly governit þe,
Than man þow for þi hous and famel se—
It suffice nocht þat þe maister led gud liffe,
And mysfare baith his famul and his wyffe;
Giff þai mysfare, hes he [the dishonoure]
And all þe laif, sen he is governoure.
Quhen þow art wele, þi hous, and þi menȝe,
Ȝitt may the cuntre all mysgovernit be,
For litill wate lordis þat hes þare ess
The povertie of þe pepill, and males,
To wrang oppressioun and mysgovernyng
That pepill tholis for falt of a gud king.
Than suld þow send inquisitouris, and spere,
And harknaris in þe cuntrie, for till here
Quhat lordis ar callit fulis, and quha ar wise;
And thole na wantoun men bere thyne office,
And oure all thing, and þow haue gude knawlege,
Thow gif neuer office in-till heretage,
And namly office þat cure hes of iustice,
Bot to the best, maist wourthy, and maist wise,
For men may knaw þe visdome of a king
Be men quhome to he gevis his governyng
Off þe grete office of his ryaltie,
And thingis þat twichis riall maiestie,
For wise princis ay wise men to þame drawis.
Thare suld na man bot wise men governe lawis—
And fulis princis ar governit oft be fulis,
Throw quhilk oft tymes þe commoun proffite culis,
And quhan the commoun proffeitt gais abak,

Howeuer it be, þe king has all þe lak.

Als gar inquire quhat all men sayis of þe,
Quhidder ill or gud, or quhat-sum-euer it be—
Thare may þow se ane face in ane myrroure,
Baith lak and lois, wourschip and dishonoure;
Than may þow vesche þi face and put away,
Giff ony filth apoun þi wissage lay;
And be nocht leifful, bot walk, or honoure tyne,
And think þow man gif compt quhan þow gais hyne.
Put nocht thyne honoure in na fulis ballance—
Thow sall ansure for thare mysgovernance;
Quhan thow garris tyrantis governe vnder the,
Thare deid to God þi dede sall repute the.
Five properteis suld be in officeris,
To governe office rialie, as efferis:
Thay suld drede God and haue gud conscience,
Hate covatice, and be of he prudence,
And be inclinit to law and equitie,
In vorde and dede euer to kepe veretie,
And mychtie als, þat aw of na man þi stude,
That thame nede nocht to sell iustice for gude.

Quhan Arestotill to Grece hame passit was,
Ane messingere come fra þe Quene Condas,
And thare the king was purposit for to ga;
Bot as þat tyme it micht nocht happin sa,
For Porrus, that was movit and full of iyre,
To be revengit he brint as in a fyre.
And to King Alexander ane epistill he send
With messingeris, and bad þame mak him kend
That he sould ly bot a nycht in a stede
Quhill he revengit had his faderis dede,
And till him send ane grete ambassadry,
Baith for message, and als him for to spy,
With that a pompois pistill, in þis maner—
The tennoure followis, as eftir ȝe may here:

“Porrus, King of Inde to Paradise,
Quhilk oure all kingis of wourschip beris þe price,
Till Alexander, ane theif and a reiffar,
With wther theiffis in oist a grete powar,

Quhilk wranguislie ourethrawis worthy lordis
And waistis realmes, as folk till ws recordis,
And schapis to conquest realmes and cieteis
Withouttin titull of richt, as all men seis:
We charge the to ceis of þi foly
And gif agane þat þow has wrangwisly;
And think that þow art bot a man mortale,
And has na liffing here perpetualle,
And quhan þow gais, the charge on þe þow beris
Off all þat þow garris de into þir weris—
Thir folk did the never vrang na velany,
Quhilk þow ourethrawis as mortale inemye;
Thir cuntre folk ar nocht custummit in were,
Na vsis nocht þare liffe with scheild and spere,
Bot peciablie vauld leiff vpone þare awne—
Thay made þe neuer caus to be ourethrawne.

“Quhat wourschip is to the, or quhat honoure,
To warry folk þat levis on laboure?
Thow sould stand aw of God, gif war nocht ellis—
For vaneglore of þis wardlit, þi saull þow sellis.
Quhat mistry is it to men þat armit ar
To conquest pepill þat neuer armes bere?
And for thir nakit commownis þow ourethrawis,
T[how] wenys sa to do to men þat þow knawis;
Bot that presumptuosnes will þe dissaue,
Wenand forþi to conquest all the laif—
Thow sould wele knaw it standis nocht sa with me,
Tharefore I rede þow lat sic folyis be,
For all my folk ar accustmyit in þe were,
And everie day vsit till armes bere;
And als wylde beistis to my bidding obeyis,
Sa dois all schipis þat sailand be þe sey is;
The goddis als obeyis to my request,
And quhan I charge þame, bowis to my behest.
Thow has oft hard of mony a prince and king
Quhilk rysing has agane Ynde in conquering,
Bot þai micht nevir of thame haue victorie,
Bot þai war chaist and distroyit vterlie.

“Quharefore treulie my counsale is þat þow
Before thai mysfortoun þat þow vnbechew—

Suppois þow had ane rampen tyme gane by,
I rede þe nocht pride þe þairin forthy,
For thay fortoun is changit, as I traist,
For aynis man it faleȝe, at the last.
Thow has anuche of lordschip and of rente
To leif vpone—þow aucht tobe content,
And nocht vsurpe on vthir menis richt,
For all suppois þat þow be now at hicht,
Richt sa was wtheris þat now lyis full law:
Tharefore þow war full wise þi-selff to knaw,
And pas to thai cuntre to þai dame—
It is full suete to men tobe at hame;
And pride the nocht in vnrichtwis conquest—
The lyffe of wiked lordis may nocht lest.

“Thow sould witt þat þai land of Macedone,
Quhan Exerces made conquest þame vpone—
The quhilk was Empriore of Pers and Ynde—
Thai payit tribute to him, and all þare strynde;
Bot quhan he saw it was a bare cuntre,
Baith cald, and ȝeild of litill dewetie,
Richt as þe laif of land of Occident,
He dedenȝeit nocht to trauel his entent,
To ask mare tribute na soueranyte,
For nocht into that cuntre fynd couth he
That mycht ocht stede in hous imperiall,
Na vailȝeit nocht for kingis governale.
He dedenȝeit nocht þai landis for to bruke—
He saw nocht þare he dedenȝeit vnto luke;
Bot it may wele yneucht suffice to þe
That is nocht [vsit] na precious thingis to se.
Tharefore, vnthrette, I gif þe my counsale
Thow pas into þi land quhill þow art wele.”

Quhan þat the epistill was rede, sone þe king
Gart call þe message to þare ansuering.
The king persauit þe epistill come of pride,
And to þe lordis said, was him beside,
“Haue ȝe wele hard þis pride and arrogance,
This mannassing, with walt and grete vantance?
Ȝe may wele se þis cummys of litill witte—
Traist wele þare is ane fall to follow it.

Thir barbaryns ar men of na knawlege,
Na subtell of ingine na lanage,
Na has na vertew in þare ordinance,
Na of gude polacie na governance,
Bot beistly men, livand be appetite;
And fore þare is na riches to þame like,
Thay wene the warld suld all to þame obey,
And with thare langage þus þai vauld ws fley—
Bot in þis erde mare cowart is þare nane
Quhan þai in battalle and in feild ar tane.”
Thus confortis Alexander his ligeis dere,
And send agane ane epistill in þis maner:

“Alexander, quhile King of Macedone,
Now king of kingis, and sone to god Aymon,
And sone also to Quene Olympias,
In hope of bettir cunand, throw Goddis grace,
To Porrus, King of Ynde and Emprioure,
To quhome the goddis obeyis throw þ[i] valoure:
I latt the witt þow has scharpit oure mynde
For grete riches þow sayis is in Ynde,
Throw quhilk thow gevis ws strenth and hardines
To seik the, quhill we find the in battalle place,
Sen Macedone is pure, and na thing worth,
Cald land and bare, and eik barane of birth,
And na thing þare is fundin of ryalte—
Bot all riches haboundis in Ynde with the,
And princes suld be quhare þare is haboundance,
For that efferis best for þare excellence.
And quhare þow sayis the goddis to þe obeyis,
I traist the grete pride of þi harte full fey is,
For pride garris þe þame at þi bidding call,
And pride levis neuer his maister but a fall—
Thow watte þe goddis all ar immortale,
And all mankynde dedelike and temperell:
Thus, for þi vaneglore and goddis dispising,
I fecht with the, in fence of Hevynnys king,
As thow þat is ane wnkynde arratike,
That to the goddis immortale mayis þe like.”

Than Porrus, quhan he hard þis ansuering,
Was hely movit at Alexander þe king,

And summond all his subiectis halely,
And all that he had traist in of supplie;
Five hundreth olymphantis to battalle dichtis,
For to bare with castellis five thousand knichtis,
The quhilkis war teichit into sic a mak,
Into thare teith ane armyit man to tak.
Than Alexander, þat harde of þare engyne,
Ordanid ane thousand armit ymagis syne,
War hole within, of bras, and payntit wele,
And at pices armit wele in pla[t]e of stele;
Syne fillit þame full of char[kol]e and bryntstane,
To stand before þe battalle þame allane,
Ilkane ane fals sterap into his hand,
Quhare þat the olymphantis war incumand.

Thus Alexander passit furth in best maner
The narrest way to seik quhare Porrus were.
Sa happinnit he intill a land michtie,
Quhare beistlike men livit vnhonestlie:
Thay war full farrand, and ill schappin of make—
Thare was nevir nane þat lyvit with sic a lak,
For þi ette flesch and fishe, and vther fude
Off best and man, and syne drank of þe blude;
Thay war nakit, and sum-thing routh of hare,
In cavis, but howiss, vnbeistis as þai war;
Thay mete togidder as wemen dois with men,
In sic maner þat schame was for to ken.
Than Alexander said, “We will þame all fordo,
That þai cum neuer nane vthir pepill to—
Thay will distroye throw þare grete ignorance
Baith all gude polece and gouernance.
Thai ar a kynd of þe barbarianis—
Certane we man distroye þame allattanis,
That neuer man þare savage maner se,
And this me think best is, I say for me.”

Quhan þai had conquest þame and put at vnder,
Thay gart cum furth of þame, on þame to wounder,
And as þai war thus demand þame to de,
Sa was þare ane was lang into Calde,
And he couth wele þe langage of þe land,
And all þat þai had said, couth vnderstand;

And he satt doun before the king on kneis,
Sayand, “Lord, we ar sic men as þow seis:
We ar nocht made but Godis ordinance,
And we can nocht of nane vther governance—
Richt as oure faderis did before, we do,
And vther liffing can we can nocht cum to.
Sen it is sua þat þow has ws conquest,
Thow suld ws gif sum living, be [þe] leis[t]—
Quhat honoure war to sla ws þat here is?
It is na wourschip to sla presonouris.
Thow has na charge of oure mysgovern[ing]—
Thow may nocht mend all faltis, þocht þow be king.”

The king hard þat he spak sa ressonablie,
And callit to counsale all þe seneȝory;
And þai þocht all þat his request was skill,
And thare the king grantit his asking till.
And sone þai socht ane land of grete laboure,
Was closit about with roches, stark and stoure,
All but ane opin place at þe entre,
An[e] half myle nere-by þe quantetie,
And all the laif was haw crag, hie and schore,
Quhilk neuer man passit, nor syne nor ȝitt before.
Than Alexander avisis quho he may
Thame clois þairin, þat þai pas nevir away,
And to þe hiest God his prayer he makis,
Sen we of Him mankynde and nature takis,
To leiff with wertew and with honestie,
“That of þai grace my pryar grant þow me,
To clois þis entre and þe laif about,
That neuer man þat enteris my cum out
Vnto the lettir day of iugment,
I pray The hartfuly, with gude intente;
For and þai wawir in þe warld, but dout,
Thay sall fill all the cuntrie here about
Off filth and vicis and mysgovernance,
That it sall tyne, but ony recoverance—
For mankynd is bayth towtyr and rekles,
Inclinit to vicis mare na gudlines,
And, fra lust and vice haue domynatioun,

Thare sall na vertew regnne in na regioun.”

And quhan he had his prayer all fulfillit,
The wertew of þe Hevin wrocht as he willit,
That quhan þai war enterit, bayth man and wiffe,
That nane was left þareout þat was of liffe,
The craggis closit sa mete, with sic ane gyn,
That neuer man sen syne passit out na in;
And how þai do sen syne, na man can witt,
For neuer emprioure sensyne micht conquest it.
Thare may nane here þare voce, þocht þai cry loude—
The craggis ar stay, and twichand to þe clude [OMITTED]
Thus was like he was lovit with Hevinnis king.

Syne efter that to Yndwart he is gane,
Quhill he come to montanis of Caspyane,
Quhilk is ane land richt mychtie and fertill—
Bot thare may na man duell into þat iylle,
Baith grete hete, for dragoun and serpent,
And als þe erde with hete is sa ourbrinte.
Bot thare þe gold growis richt haboundantlie,
And mynyt with emottis, richt mervellusly,
And with grete slicht is wonnyn fra thyne away,
Quhill vnder nycht, quhill vnder licht of day.
The land is full of craggis and hill[is] grete;
The scruffe of gold is þare liffing and mete—
The emottis scrapis þe gold out of þe hill,
And ettis þe scruffe, and lattis þe gold ly still:
As dois þe covatus rich[e] man on molde,
Etis vp þe dros, and levis þe warld þe gold.
The dross, þe roust, þe cankir is of oure syn
That men committis quhan þai the riches wyn.

And syne he come in land of Albaney,
And thare þai gaif him batale sudantly;
And first into þe front of þare battale
Thay sett of grete houndis, þat war mervell,
Ane huge quantetie, þat wele was tauch[t]—
Thare was nane tone men þat agane ane faucht,
Bot sould find thame all ynewich ado,
Sa wele þai war þe fechting teichit to.
Bot Alexander, quhilk hard of þare cuning,

Gart ordane him tua thousand of grete swyne,
And first into þe vangard gart þame stand,
Ilk formest man ane swyne intill a band;
Than, quhan þat þai houndis begouth to slait,
On wther part þe swyne þai provit and bait,
And quhan the swyne begouth to ȝell and cry,
The houndis followit, and lete þe men ga by,
And, for þi lippinnit in sic governynng,
Thai tynt the battall for discomforting.
Bot he did grace quhan he had victory,
And tuke þame in obeysance halely.
Thai war richt manly men, and mekill and sture,
Off gude witt, governance, and portrature;
The prince of þat land gaif him ane grete mastys,
Ane hidduous hound, was mekill at all devise:
Thare ȝede na beist on ground bot he vauld taa—
Ane oliphant he vauld bayth tak and sla.

How Alexander past throw þe desertis of Ynde

Than Alexander fra thyne enterit in Ynde,
Quhilk land is hete, and of a frely kynde,
Off woid, of watter, of craggis, of wildernes,
Off montanis, of wallis, of hillis, and holdirnes;
And mony in þai landis in cavis duellis—
Thare micht na man into þat land liff ellis.
And as þai past nereby ane hie rochoun,
Thay saw grete myne of gold, was fallin doun;
Thai lukit vp, and saw þir emottis scrape,
The quhilk emottis war grete as ony ape,
In sic a noumber and sic ane quantetie
Into þat crage þat mervell was to se.
Till hors and men þi did sa grete grevance
That few men micht thame kepe fra þat myschan[c]e,
Nor nane durst cum to bere þat gold away;
Sa grete a multitude of beistis war þai,
Sa perrelus of cluke, vennum, and tuthe,
That thare was nane þai hitt, to say the soith,
Bot ay the cankir followit efterwart,

And gart þame tyne þe member in þat part.
The gold betuix the hillis lyis in myne—
Thai ette the hill, and scrapes þe gold out syne,
Thay weyn that na man cummys þare for þe gold,
Bot for þe hill, quhilk on na price þai wold.

The watter was sa brynd þare with the hette,
With sonnys beme all day on it to bete,
That it sa bitter was, sa strange and salt,
Quhill of freche wattir þai had sic ane falt
That wa was þame þe tyme þat þai war borne,
For sic ane falt þai had neuer beforne;
That all þe oist purposit to turne agane,
Off Grece and Macedone þe men of mane,
And als of Egip, Peirs, and Hermenye,
And all þe new conquest men halely,
Sayand, “Oure emprioure, for his vane gloir,
Is like him-selff, his land, and ws forlore—
We haue landis and guidis ynewch for ws,
Þocht we pas nocht to tyne oure-selfin thus.”
Bot Alexander, quhilk wise and wourthy was,
Said, “Fare lordis, ȝe knaw all-hale þe cas—
I tak sic liffe as ȝe, but defference,
And quhan it cummys to mak ony deffence,
I sall nocht spare to put me with þe first,
Quhill hors and man and spere and scheild may last;
And quhan the gude sall cum in deperting,
Ȝe sall haue all, and I sall desire na thing
Bot to fulfill þe charge þat I haue
Off God, þe quhilk I mon pleis oure þe laif.
Suppois ȝe want now sum thing þat ȝow nedis,
Within schorte tyme ȝe sall haue þat ȝow spedis.”
Thus comforte he his wourthy chevelrye,
And gart thame grant to bide with him halely.

That nycht he rede with his menȝe,
And on þe morne he come in a gude cuntre,
And till ane citie callit was by name
In Ynde the grete citie of Festyname;
Thare Alexander refreschit his cumpaney
And restit him, and made him richt mirry.

And as þai was restand in þis maner,
Sa come fra Porrus ane messingere,
To wesie Alexander and his menȝe,
And for to spy quhat nowmber of men was he;
For Porrus was hie sett in his entent,
For ȝitt was nevir king in Orient
That had sa mervelus ane multitude
Off wourthy weriouris and of fechtaris gude:
Suppois þe fortoun was to Alexander
Off all þe warld, of him it was na wounder.

Than had Porrus semblit his armey reddie,
Quhan he send Alexander for till espye,
And all his battallis put in ordinance,
And till his princis gaif þare governance;
And in his vantgard ane kynde of pepill was
Quhilk þai callit in þat land Garrymantas.
And Alexander maid small suldioure to se
The state of his battale and menȝe,
And gart espy all as he lay in oist,
For euer on spyis he made mekill coist:
Thai tald him how the oliphantis were
Sic multitude, and into quhat maner.

Sa come þare lettiris sone of diffyance—
The trumpettis blew, þai went till ordinance,
And evere battale had his chiftane sett;
The batalis movit furth but ony lett.
The king send lordis for [to] cheis þe feild—
All drew to armes þat micht wappinnis weild;
The king ordanit his armyt men of brass
Set in vantgard, as it ordanit was.
On everie side þare was sic men of pride,
Fra þai saw wther, na langer micht þai bide,
Bot strak togidder with sic ane sound and rerde,
And faucht lang tyme or ony bakward sterde.
With that the oliphantis come stedfastlie,
The quhilkis with men war garnist michtely;
The wantgard ȝitt sterit nocht, bot stude ay still:
Thocht worthy men brak speris at þare will,
The batall stude, and kepit ordinance—
Worth is na were withoutin gouernance.

Als Porrus helde on bridill with his batale,
For in the oliphantis his traist was hale,
That thai sould mak þe first discomfitoure,
And of þare batal mak ane disfigure,
And syne he [tocht] apoun þare bak to cum,
And tak and sla þe laif, baith hale and sum.
The oliphantis gapit richt gredely,
And with thare tuskis to riffe þame suddantlie
Thay schupe, bot quhan þai fand þam birnand hate,
Thay rampit, rumyst, and tuke ane wther gait,
And threw about apoun þare awne batale,
And all þare awne wantgarde oure-tirvit hale,
And ran as woid, quhill all the castellis quuke,
And all the knichtis out of þe castellis schuke.

Bot Alexander for þis amovit him nocht,
For it was God þat all þis for him wrocht,
Bot sobirly come on, and kepid f[e]ild,
In gude array, ilkane with spere and scheild,
For ȝitt was all King Porrus batal hailleȝ,
And litill brokin bot throw his awne castelleȝ.
Than Porrus, quhilk þis saw, in his hart was wa
That his wantgard was quyte ourethrawin sua,
And ewin þe way till Alexander he tuke,
And tocht to strek apoun him at a nuke.
Bot þare was sett þe folk of Pers and Tyre,
Quhilk hade Porrus before at feid and ire,
For he thame had reprevit of King Dare,
The quhilk þai left quhen he had maist myster;
And thare war slane þe pepill Garymantre,
In quhome Porrus he fyance maist had he;
Prince Olipherne was slane, and Schir Bauduwyne,
And mony prince of wthir cuntreis syne,
And Moa[b], King of Freiȝ, was chasit away;
And wourthely did Porrus king þat day.
Thare was slane als þe Prince Amenydab,
The quhilk was cosing germane to King Moab;
Thare deit a prince of Alexanderis menȝe,
Bot ane, was callit Prince Sodak of Calde,
Bot or he deit, he slew ma na fivetene—
He was ane wourth man, withoutin wene.

Sa come Petroneus, Prince of Babilone,
And Alexander spurrit Bussifall him on,
And strake him bakwart to þe erde all doun,
And of his sa[dill] straike, with him þe arsoun;
And throw the body quytly he him bare,
And hurt him sua þat he micht liff no mare—
Ioy was to se the riche availȝement,
Sett oure with pretius stonis of Orient.
Thare was þe Prince of Sadoch, callit Ioab,
Quhilk broder was till Prince Amenedab:
He said to Porrus, “Schir, quhat will ȝe do?
Ȝoure men ar slane and chasit—se ȝe, lo!”
Than was at the flicht ane cumpaney
War chasit with þame of Pers and of Caldye;
The men of Macedone in þe grete batall was
With þame of Grece, and helde the batall place;
In the thrid batall was a fare menȝe
Off folk of Egip and of Ermene.
Than bad the king men suld kepe arrey:
“With Godis grace þe feild is oure to-day!”
For oliphantis and all war turnit abake,
And Porrus reddy was þe flicht to tak,
For in his oliphantis was his fynance,
The quhilk war turnit till ane grete myschance.

The king saw þame begyn to tak þe flicht,
And bad avant his baner with all micht,
And strak on Porrus' batall with blyithnes,
For his wantgard was followand on þe chais.
Than Porrus saw þare was na vther remede
Bot owtherane fecht, or fle, or tane, or dede,
Ralyid his men all to his grete batall,
Baith wyngis and reregard, with þe standand stale,
And tocht þe Gregioiȝ all for to ouresett;
Bot oft in schapin purpos cummyis lett,
For Alexander sa ferme was in all his dede
That of þare purpois litill micht þai spede,
For quhare þai mette, it was na barnis play—
The wichtest partie bare the price away.
For þare was mony ane sadill temytt sone,
And mony ane proude man vnder, þat was abone.

With speris of price þe scheildis schulderand brest—
Quha strak doun quham, þa[r] was na man þat wist,
For [quhen] men cummys in-to sa grete melle,
Thare may na tent till vther takin be,
Bot everie man to haue watt on his spere,
And schaip to schaft him þat him schapis to dere,
And of his bridill rengȝe tak gude hald,
Giff ony be þe rengȝe reft him wald;
Ane wther poynt he suld kepe wele alsua,
That he strek nocht his frend, and leif his fa,
And everie man tak gude tent to his seingȝe,
That he stray nocht, ne gang will fra his menȝe;
And on his maister als he suld haue mynd,
Him to supplie in nede, and he be kynde;
And als tak tent gif ony brekis array,
At his powar mend it, gif he may—
And socht to say, King Alexander had made
His chiftanis all, þat all þir wertewis had,
For men þat ar abassit in batall place,
For to do wele þat day sall haue na grace.

Than Porrus' men richt mekill abaissit war—
Thay saw þare menȝe fled, and all was bare.
Than Porrus saw na vther distanȝe
Bot saue him-selff, gif ony bute micht be,
Thinkand for to recover efterwart—
Skant micht he fle, he was sa wa in hart,
Bot nocht for-þai, his fortoun was forelore.
He past his way his men war fled before—
Levand the plane, he tuke him to deserte;
He was woundit, oure king was hale and quart.
Throw the desertis of Ynde he tuke the way,
Quhare neuer man vngydit follow him may;
Throw thai desertis he past [fiftene] dayis,
With grete distres of mete, þe story sayis,
For thai had left behynt all þare baggage,
Thare gardiviance, chareotis, and carrege,
In quhilkis sic riches was of gold and gere
That thare was nane þat mellit him with þe were
Bot thai had gold at will and wantounass—
Sic novmer of gold was nevir sene in a plais

As into Porrus' pallais þare was foundin,
Quhat wrocht in werk, or brynt, cunȝete, or grundin,
With pretius stanis, þat is tere to tell.
To Porrus' harte þare come nevir sic ane knel
Quhen he herd say þat his pallais was tane—
In all þat cuntre sic wþer was þare nane;
It passit Daris pallas mekill thing
In pretiousnes, in riches, and bigging.

With Porrus fled Askarus de Nubie,
With mony proude man in his cumpaney,
Bot or he fled, he brak his spere with mycht,
And throw the scheild he persit a nobill knicht
Off Grece, and baklynnys to the erde him bare;
And Askarus alsa was woundit sare,
And syne he fled, bot nocht throw þat cuntre
Quhare Porrus fled, bot he past to Nube;
And all þe laif þat fled, till him ralyit,
And to Nube, his awne cuntre, him hyit.
Ane syne throw Ynde he tuke ane wþer way,
Quhill he come to the place quhare Porrus lay;
And thare þai tuk new counsale and avise,
Agane to giff batall, on þare best wise.
And sone þai semblit all þai est regiouns
In plane batall, and stent þare palȝowns,
And made agane mare michtie ordanyng
Na of before, to Alexander the king.

Thus makand his devise we latt him be,
And pas to Alexander and his menȝe,
Quhilk gadderand was þe spule and spreith,
That nane was sic fra thyne to Naȝareth—
And all þat gold he delt to his menȝe.
And syne to Segar citie past[si]t he,
And laid the sege to þat citie strang—
Thay sett nocht þame to hald agane him lang,
Bot on þe morne the citie till him ȝ[ei]ldis;
Bot nevirþeles he logit him on þe feildis
Quhill he send and discouerit all þe land,
Till se gif ony till him wald be rebelland.
Bot thare was nane, for all bowit and obeyit—

All halely þe cuntre till him sweyit;
His grete renoun, his larges and fredome,
Gart halely the cuntre till him cum,
For sen Porrus was fled with all his meane,
Thay traistit neuer þat he suld cum agane.

Than schupe he him to entir in þat citie;
The ordinance þai made was ioye to se,
For commounis ioyis ay of lordschip newe,
For commounis ar sone turnit and vntrew:
Thai coverit all the stretes with clathis of price,
And all the calsay coverit with tapyse,
With countenance, and playis on skaffaldis,
With interlutis, quhilk pepill oft behaldis,
With iusting in þe rew, and tur[n]a[m]entis,
To mak the lordis blayth in þare ententis,
With burdis sett, and publict mangeryis,
Conditis rynnand commoun, þat all men seis,
With mylk, with vle, with wynnys rynnand rede;
Baith knichtis and ladyis, dansis for to lede,
With playing on þe rapis, and ionglouryis,
Singing, and karollis, and madynnys iolyis,
Singing of foulis be enchantment,
And all thing þat was in thare entent,
With men of music and menstralis mony ane;
And with ioy to the palais is he gane.

The citie was of marbil wallit clene,
Chakkart with quhite, blak, rede, and grene,
All propirly kirnallit with machcolis,
With stanis of fens liand aboue þare holis.
Thre hundreth touris about þe toun war settis:
Off yvore was þe closoure of þe ȝettis;
Thare kirnalling was all of alabastre,
And of yvore baith portis and fenistre.
Ilk innes with ane castell richtlie wrocht,
Bot michtie lordis þare duell þai sufferit nocht,
With men to thare service ganand was—
Thay tholit na pure men inter into þat place;
And als þare is few pure men into þat land—
All welth and riches þare is haboundant.
The pallais stude apoun ane ryver side,

Quhilk throw þe toun ran, in three branches wide,
With condittis cumand furth of far cuntreis,
In spoutis of lede, to serue gif mister beis,
Throw draggoun hedis in fontanis falland,
In diuers placis out-throw all þe land.

The entrie of þe palis sa was wrocht
That in þis erde I traist þat day was nocht
Sa riche a place, and plesand vnto luke;
Quha micht be lorde of it, in pece to bruke,
Him nede na ferrare ask, in na degre,
It was sa fare and plesand vnto se.
The entrie was of [twenty] faldum brede,
That fourty men mycht ilkane vther lede,
And syne ascendit it fifty degreis
Off alabast, withoutin stane or treis;
On everie side þe greis þare was a toure,
Quhilk mervellis was, and of grete stature,
And syne aboue þat greis stude vther tua;
Ane vther grete syne vpwart past fra þa,
With vthir fifty stage of cristiall,
Quhilk made the nowmer of ane hunder hale.
Thare was the porte þat enterit in þe place,
The quhilk alhale of i[as]pe and evore was,
And all þe greis ourevoltit war and sylit,
That throw na filth of weddir micht be fillit.

And quhan the palace þai war enterit in,
Thare was into þe entrie sic ane gyn,
Quhilk gif a man þat þarein nocht knawin wer
Stampit þareon, it suld a turnel stere,
Quhilk sould him cast ane hundreth faldum depe,
Bot gif he him þe warlyer couth kepe.
The pallace was of fifty touris round,
Sett all about with wallis hale and sound;
Of iasp þe wall, and coverit with metall,
With ȝettis and durris, and wondois of cristall.
About þe pallace past a gallare,
Fast to the wallis, quhilk was of stane melle,
Off quhite marbill, of iasp, and calsdone,
With money torris of siluer, gold-begone;
And in þat gallare folk micht repare

In wete and dry, in wedder clene and fare,
And hald talkin, and play at sindrie plais,
Mare na in ony part of þe palais.
In everie toure þare was a knicht wonnand
Quhan þat King Porrus had it in his hand,
The quhilk was knichtis of his garde and cors,
That everie nicht rede ermit on þare hors
About þe palais in þat gallary,
Ilk nycht ane thousand in þare cumpaney,
Or chardday, as to þame micht effere;
And all ansuerd till his grete chawmmrere,
The quhilk was King of Sadoch and Nuby,
Or wther prince that him tocht maist wourthy.
The pillaris of þat gallery was all
Off iaspe, of beriall, and of cristall.

Into that palais, for his residence,
He had ordanit ane pallais of defence,
Quhilk had ane drawin brig or men com in,
Richt suttely was risand with a gyn
Betuix tua touris, quhilk michtie was, and stark,
Wrocht craftely, and of a curious werk.
That inner pallais fyftene touris had,
Quhilk all of iaspe and cassidone was made,
The durris and wyndois of beriall and cristall;
The touris with siluer ouregilt war thekit all—
In that mansioun was na stane bot of price,
Na wall, nor pillare, nor ȝitt grete nor vyce,
Nor tymmer was thare name bot of cypres—
Thare was na man micht noumber þe riches.
Threttie pillaris war into þat hall,
The quhilk of beffyt gold war forgit all;
The ruffe with plete of gold was all ouresild,
With saphir cristallyne þe hall was tylde;
Betuix þe pillaris, treilȝeis of gold war þare,
With leiff and bereis, richt as þai growand wer,
Anamald in þe propir kynd and hew,
Richt as þai war in gadering quhare þai grew;
Apoun þe branchis satt the birdis small,
The wourthiest in þe woddis men couth wale,
All of fyne gold, anamyllit in þe kynd,

With maik and fechterane in þe propir kynd;
Thare ene war all of pretious perrery.
Bot all þe birdis was holl, and nocht massy;
The branchis also quhareon þe birdis satt
Was hole within—cum throw þame a gate,
And to þat gate a condit come behind;
Syne war thare bellyis seruand þame of wynd,
Quhilkis quhan þai blew, þe foulis swetlie sang,
Quhill sic ane melody was þame amange,
Quhill all þe hale was in a rerde of n[o]i[s],
That in þis erde nedit nane vther ioy[is];
That quhan the king wald mak feist ryally,
Thay foulis sang with sic ane melody
That it wald seme to everie creature
That ilkane sang þe sang of þare nature.
Syne was the trumpett left for menstrasye,
Quhare þare was mony thingis of musardye,
Quhylum ladyis and knichtis karoling,
Quhilom enarmit knichtis apoun hors iusting,
Quhill hawkis taking foulis of river,
Quhil[l] trumpettis with þare trumpis of gold so clere.
Syne satt þare on ane pillare hir allane
Ane mekill foull, was callit ane pelligane—
Off gold scho was all, be my iugment,
And schuke hir fetherame all be inchantment,
And quhilom sang, with opin voce and clere,
Richt plesandlie, þat all the hall micht here.

On everie pillare was ane grete ymage
Off empriouris, þe gretest of porage,
Off massy gold hewin richt craftely,
Ane crowne vpone þare hede quhilk was worthy;
On everie croun ane pretious charbonkill was,
Quhilkis on þe nycht illumnyt all þe place.
The burdis war of saphir cristallyne,
The treistis and benkis al of gold sa fyne.
The lakkest stane was saphir cristallyne—
All kynde of stanis of vertew þat micht be,
The maist pretious, and maist of dignetie,
Was in þat chalmer, in bed, or burd, or sete,

Or veschell for to serve þame at the mete;
Thare veschell was maist of stanis serpentyne,
Off cressolit, onix, and smaragdyne:
Sum is for poysoun, sum tholis na seiknes,
Sum helis all woundis, sum flewaris all þe place,
Sum tholis na tressoun done quhare-evir þai be,
Sum savis fra perissing in land and se.

The flewar of balmis and aromatike,
It semyt maist to be ane thing hevinlike;
The riches and the tressouris þat was þare,
For to rehers, it passis my powar:
The burdis all with claithis of gold war spred,
Sa was þe bankis and the lakest bed;
And the chalmer of þe quenis and þe empris
Was sett of gold, ilkane of þare devise,
Into thare state ryall, with crownis all,
With charbunkill, as þe kingis ar in þe hall.
Syne till ane secrete chalmer passit þai,
Quhare in þe nycht the princis slepit ay—
In that retrete, traist wele all thing was
That in þis erde micht mannis persoun pleis,
With all thingis þat belangit medecine,
Baith spice, vnȝementis, and balmys fyne.
Syne enterit þai in-till ane tressoure[re],
Was fifty stagis dounwart crovyn nere,
Quhare-throw þai passit till ane goldin myne,
Quhilk growand was intil his awne gardyne—
Quhat maistry is þame to haue gold plente,
And pretious stanis, the richest þat may be,
Quhan baith þe gold and pretious stanis dere
Ar growand in þat cuntre far and nere?
Syne passit þai furth intill ane gardyne fare,
That plesand was, and eik of nobill are,
Quhare all the kyndis of frotis of Paradise
Was plantit þare, and growand at devise,
Quhilk, baith in somer and in winter ay,
The frute flurist and ripit everie day.

In myddis þe palice was ane grete fontane,
And tharein ran þare condittis mony ane,
Off wattir and of wyne, baith rede and quhite,

To tak quha wauld—to na man wald þai nyte;
Off vly als and mylk the condeittis ran,
The quhilk war opin and commoun till all man.
To tell quhat stuff, quhat insicht and grathing
Was in þat place, þat ganit for ane king,
It war richt tere to tell be mannis witt,
To haue in mynd, na for to put in wrette,
Off riche veschell and of thressoury,
With pretious stanis of Orient and perry:
All his veschell, of chalmer, hall, and kichyn,
War all of pretious stanis and gold fyne.

The citie was wele fundit at devise
Apoun ane flude þat come fra Paradise;
Betuix ane garding and ane tresouryȝ
Was ane veirgeir, was ordanit for ladyȝ—
It was fourtie cubeitis lang and brade,
And all for dansing and for revell made;
The maik of it King Dare had conterfete,
In warld sould na man sic ane wthir gett.
It held the fessoun [and] mak [of ane] herbere:
The wallis craven war of c[ri]stell clere,
Ourevoltit all with beriall clere and fyne,
The wyndois all with saphire cristallyne;
Siddilling þe wallis war goldin pillaris sett,
And ay betene with goldin trailȝeis sett,
With frute and fulȝe in þe kendely hew,
Richt in þe kynde as þai in garding grew,
And birdis on þe bewis, mony a skore,
Richt as we tald ȝow of þe hall before;
And all þe wyne berryis war pretius stanis,
And all the benkis war of serpent banis,
Quhilk sufferit na poysoun na maladye
In for to entir na porte of þe body.

Thare was na pillare in þat place, I wist,
Bot ruby, emerald, and amatist.
The day it was sa clere, withoutin dout,
Thare wist na man quhidder he war in or out—
The ruffe and wallis inwart war ourestent
With pretius stanis and perlis of Orient.
The wergier was baith lang and spacius—

The treilȝe rais abone, as dois ane volt—
Off lenth als gudlie as men mycht schute ane bolt,
That mycht dance at large, revell, and sing,
Wele fifty cuppill of ladyis in a ring.
The crag it stude on was of marbill fyne,
Syne pathit oure with saphire cristallyne;
The cornis of þe rasing all halelie was
Off rubyis, emeraldis, and of topas;
The birdis ene ilkane ane margarete,
That sum birdis þat singand was sa swete,
Throw subtell[e], as we haue said before—
It was yneuch to se, of wardlis glore.
On everie pillare ane charbunkill schynand bricht,
Quhilk, quhan þe day was failȝeit, gaif þe licht:
Thus baith the nycht and day it was ay clere,
It was ane hevin to be in þat vergier.

Ane tabill was of recreatioun,
Quhan ladyis list to hald collatioun,
Off gold, with pretius stanis all ouresett;
Bot for to [se] þat quhan þai past to mete—
It was a lusty sicht for to behold
Off pretius stanis þe veschell, and of gold,
Off quhilk suld I say all the preciosite
Off it, percase sum men vauld say I le;
Off þat I ceis, for men may vnderstand
It was conformand to the remanand.
Thus, quhan ladyis wald lordis feist at richt,
Thare wauld be semblit mony lusty knicht,
And revell þare all nycht quhill on þe morrow,
And at parting fynd God of Lufe to borrow.

Quhan thai had vesyit þe palleis and þe toun,
Syne vesyit þai the tempill of Mahovin,
Off quhilk King Alexander had na plesance,
For in Mahovin he had nocht his creance;
Bot in the mekill God þat governis all
His trest was first, and syne in goddis small,
Subordinate quhilk vnder God gouernis,
Quhilkis rewillis all the planetis and þe sternis;
Na he luffit neuer the folk of Barbary,
Quhilk of all natiouns maist was vnworthy,

For þai ar ay creuel folk and but ressoun,
And werst to reule of any natioun:
Thay war presumpteous and rude and vnhonest,
And als vntrew, that na man micht þame traist,
For thai ar beistlie folkis, withoutin ressoun,
Creuell, cuvatus, and full of tressoun—
To sla thare beistis to mak sacrefice,
And offer syne þe blude, was þare devise,
Bot Alexander to godis immortale
Made sacrefice, and traistis in þame hale.
Bot in that tempill þare was mare riches
Na ten kingis ransoun mycht be, be geis.

Off þe spuleȝe of þe riches of Segor

Quhan þai had feistit þame and made gude chere,
And restit þame all at þare awne laser,
Thay spuleȝeit all, and tuke þame of þe best,
Off all riches tuke þe worthiest,
And chargit cartis, camelis, and chareotis,
And turst all thing þat þai couth find to notis;
And tuke him-selff þe charbunkill and perry,
And delt the gold all till his seingȝory.
The toun na palace wald he nocht thole breik,
Bot [of] þe gude þai tuke thare bare affei[k]—
It had bene harme þat it distroȝeit war,
For Sanct Thomas of Ynde now layis þare;
Ane principall palais is of Prester Iohnne,
In quhilk all Yndis now trowis him apoun.

Than Alexander gatt wodwiȝ ten or twelf,
And spak with thame, and feit þame him-selff,
Him for to gide throw the desertis of Ynde,
And neuer to stent quhill that he Porrus find,
To chaisty him of his ydolatrie,
Gar him renunce Mahovin and mawmentry.
Thare chargit he camelis and dromadareis,
With all the cartis and chareotis þat þare is,
And als þai chargit the oliphantis all,
And all the berand beistis, grete and small,
With gold and siluer, victuale, and pretius stanis,
And trumpit vp, and his menȝie attanis—

It was ane ioyus sicht on þame to se,
Sa proude and lusty cumpaney was he.

Thay past out-throw ane land callit Colliphas,
Quhare wylde beistis and mony dragoun was,
Garete r[o]ches and woddis mervellus,
With hie montanis and rivers perrelus.
The hete was grete, the wattir was all salt,
That of freche wattir þai had ay maist falt:
In thai desertis he tint of his menȝe ma
Throw hete and thrist, vnbeistis þat þame sla,
Na thay had tynt in battall with Porrus,
For in thare liffe sted war þai nevir thus.
Thus in thare harnes ythandly þai swete,
And vmbeistis dalie þame vmbesete.
Thay had na land to luge in bot in desertis—
The oist sa noyit war into þare hartis,
For þai durst nocht in cavis mak repare,
For beistis venemous þat þarein war.
The wodwiȝ, quhilk war bund-men to Porrus,
On sett purposeis þe ost myscondit thus,
Bot ȝitt þe king, becaus he thame nocht trest,
He wauld nocht thole to do thame na molest,
Bot traitit þame, and made þame wele to fare,
For he micht gett nane vþer guidis þare.
Thare was routh men and hary all-attoure,
And in þare hand þai bare ilkane ane stoure;
Thai war all nakit, with hingand taty hare,
Thare feitt war s[m]eith, with hede and handis bare;
Thai war richt mekill men, of sembly mak,
And oure grette watteris þa[i] bare men on þare bak.

As þai past throw the forest þus in fere,
Sa come thai till a passand grete river,
Quhare in ane ile þai saw ane castell strang;
Quhan þai persauit the ost, ane bell þai rang—
Sa come þare furth ane rusty cumpaney
Of wodwiȝ sic as of before spak I,
Be liklynes sic as the godis war,
Without clething, all coverit oure with hare.
Thai mervelit on the oist, and studeit fast;

Than Alexander to thame vauld fane haue past,
Bot þai micht find na furde na passing place,
Na of nowther schip na bot be liklynnes.
It was sa depe and mervelus profunde,
Thay mycht nocht win with na tre to þe ground;
Bot at the last thai socht baith vp and doun,
Quhill that thai fand a brig of gude fassoun,
And oure þai past, and to þat castell gais,
And schupe to assalȝe it all wayis.
Thai war agil and licht as ony raa,
And ran sa swift þat nane micht thame ouretaa;
And quhan men left, and turnit þe bak on þame,
Thay followit, and on hors behind þame clame.
Thay had tuskis and clukis richt felloun,
And raif and werryit men, and kest þame doun,
And sic ane murthur on þare men þai made
That thai retretit þame but mare abade—
Thai raif men creuly, and kest thame doun,
As dog or wolf, bere, or as lioun.
Than semblit thai of wourthy men in rout
Ane multitude of hard men and stout,
And till the castell past for till assaleȝe;
Bot all thare dede micht na thing þame avaleȝe,
For fra the place þai past, and tuke þe plane,
Quhill in þe wild, quhill in the watter agane—
Thai can als wele in þe grete treis clym,
And in the river quh[i]lom for to swym.
Than gart the king his gydis swym to se
Quha best micht in þe watter maister be,
Bot sone þai werryit þame, and in pecis raif—
Sa vald thai, and þai micht gett all the laif,
For thai war in þe wattir mare agill
Na on the land, and alsa mare subtell—
Thay vauld douk quhan þai wald, he and law,
And vnder pas, þat nane micht knaw,
Ane myle or tua, quhile in þe wod agane,
Quhile in þe castell, and quhilum in þe plane.
Sic folk to name ar callit Ypothumaiȝ,
That all this creulte and wilis has;
Thay ete bot raw flesche, and syne þai drank þe blude,

Or clere wattir—thai hade na vther fude.
The river þare was salt as ony bryme,
Bot ȝitt freche wattir come to þame all tyme
On-to þare castell fra ane fer cuntre,
In condeittis vnder erde, þat nane micht se.

Than Alexander saw þat it micht nocht avalȝe
Thame to conquest—it was a tynt travelȝe;
And send tretie, and bad þame giftis grete,
To gu[i]de thame throw the wildernes, to gett
Sum refresching of freche wattir and gresse,
For þare erde throw hete sa dryit was
That nowther gers na corne was þare growand,
Bot woid and wattir, wyld beist and widderit land,
With rochis hie, with serpentis and dragownus,
With beris, tigris, griffouns, and lyounis.
Than was þare ane quhilk spak richt gude langage,
Sayand, “And we mycht traist in ȝoure trewage,
We sould ȝow lede quhare freche wattir till haue,
With all thing that þow misteris for to laif;
Bot of ȝoure gold na siluer bid we nocht—
In this deserte we haue ynewch on-bocht;
We bid nocht ellis bot flesche and wattir clere,
And quh[i]lum fische þat growis in þis river.
Bot all oure wattir cummys fra Sadayngȝe,
In grete condeittis out of ane hie montanȝe;
Bot we sall lede ȝow to ane freche river
And gude cuntre, þat [is] nocht far fra here;
Bot thare is dragouns, mony and hidduous—
Mak gude wache in the nycht, and ȝe be wis.
And into ȝoure way ane river ȝe sall fynd:
Seik to ane brig, and lat na man pas Ind;
Ane riche castell on the vther parte—
Bot we dar nocht pas with ȝow hiddirwarte,
For þat castell and we is fa of were,
And we thame harme, and thai do ws [m]a dere.
And thare beȝound, vndir a litill skeuch,
Thare is gud ground and fresche wattir ynewch.”

Thay past agane quhan þai had taucht the way;
The oist removit als fast as euer þai may,
And to that river quhare that castell was.

Thay trumpit vp quhan thai saw the place,
And cryit in of fer, and askit entre—
The place was like a mychtie place to be.
Thai lukit oure, and spak na worde agane;
The se was depe, þe feild about [was] plane;
In-to the place nane armes þai drew to,
Bot made sembland as men of pece suld do.
Than traistit þai þat nane was þarein
Bot nakit men, and eith war for to wyn,
And tocht nocht quhat the wodwiȝ þare had said;
And all about þe place þe sege lade,
And gart doukaris and swymmaris pas to se,
Off hardy men wele tua hundreth or thre,
And all thare wappynnis tursit apoun a flote,
To draw oure syne, with harnes and with schote.
Bot quhan þai plungit in þat river,
And to the castell cumand war wele nere,
Off hiddious beistis þare come ane grete menȝe,
Like as þai had bene quhalis of þe se,
With lyoun hedis, and tuskis scherpe and grete,
And all thai wourthy men þai raif and ete,
And left neuer ane away with liffe to wyn.
With that the folk þat was þe place within,
Thai gaif ane cry, with grete derisioun—
Thame nedit nocht nane vther garnisoun.
Than was þe king richt crabit and angry,
Bot he vauld nocht leif his purposis forþi.

Syne lede þe gydis þe ost in gude maner,
Quhill sone þai gat [s]icht of þe fresche river;
Than blew thai vp trumpis and clariouns,
And plantit doun tentis and palȝeouns,
And made gude chere; þe ost was blayth and glaid
That thai the fresche river fundin had,
For beist and man sa bundin war with thrist
And with hete, wele nere thare hartis birst.
And in the nycht grete fyris gart þai ma,
To kepe the oist the weikkit beistis fra,
And for-thay þat þe beistis and þe dragouns,
Baith vnicornes, serpentis, and liouns,
War custummyt forto drink at thare river

Into the nycht—quhilk happinit, fare and clere:
Thay drew all to the river for to drink,
Sic multitude þat nane in harte mycht think,
Quhilk, or men wist, full mony a man þai slew,
That for fresche wattir to þe river drew;
And quhan thai war battit on mannys blude,
Thai rampit till haue mare, and wox all wod,
Bot all the oist þai gart till armes draw,
And into batall rangit thame on raw.
Bot sic ane batall had thai neuer are,
As with wyld beistis þat nycht had thai thare,
That of þare menȝe mony ane was slane,
And cheist the beistis to the wod agane.

Than Alexander hound slew grete fusoun
Off vnicornis, of tygris, and of lioun,
That mony of þame war left into the feild,
Off quhilkis the skynnes of mony of þame þai peild;
For skynnys of þai beistis marvelus
For mony thingis ar haldin pretius:
Sum is for malody, and sum for hete,
Sum agane cald and vther causis grete,
And sum is agane vennoun and hie poysoun,
And sum agane contraffing of tressoun;
Ane vnicornis bane quhare it is bocht,
For twyis sa mekill gold it byis it nocht;
And of the skynnys and saklis of sum dragouns
Men clethis pretius tentis and sum pailȝouns;
Sum is sa cald þat throw þame cummys na hete,
Suppois the birnand hete be neuer sa grete;
Sum is sa hete that throw thame cummys na cald—
For frost nor snaw, nane vthir fyre þai vald;
And sum within thame enteris na poisoun,
Na vther sum in þame tholis na tressoun—
Off quhilkis þis princis chalmeris stentit ar—
And vtheris tholis na seiknes quhare þai ar;
And mony vther werteous has sic thingis
Quhilk gaynis best for princis and for kingis.
Thus, thocht þe king sum of his pepill tyne,
God Him revelit in vther maner syne,
That quhat of pretius stanis, and quhat of skynnis,

Ten mullioun wourth of warldis gude he wynnis.

That nycht þai woik, and made gud waching ay,
Quhill on þe morne, that it was licht of day,
Thay blew the bemes, as fordwart for to pas,
Towart the place quhare Porrus batall was.
Sa happynnit that a dragowun mervellus,
Quhilk oure all vther at outrage was hidduous:
Apoun hir bak ane grete armoure scho bare—
Like as ane rufe of ane grete stepill it war,
The body vnder, in guyse of ane dragoun—
Thare was na hous sa-mekill in ony toun;
Quhilk till ane dragoun like scho had a snowtt,
And all hir sydis skalit war about;
Hir leggis grete and armit war alsua,
Ay schotand flauchtis of fire, quhare-evir scho ga.
Sum of þame said it was a cocadrill—
Men wist nocht quhatkin beist to likin it till.
The flauchtis of fire þat throw hir mouth out kest,
Brocht mony ane man and hors to dedis brist—
Thay war sa basit, þir lordis all bedene,
Thay wend that scho ane feynd of H[e]ll had bene.
Thay sett before hir cartis and chareotis,
And proppit gonnys and sindrie vther schottis,
And all but buffit and gla[n]sit on hir balan—
Hir schell was hard as owtherane flent or stane;
Scho was of diuers hewis and cullouris,
And with that scho made all men sic horrouris.
This his hound apoun hir batit Alexander:
Scho blew sic blaistis, he durst nocht cum nerehand hir,
For with blaistis of fire þat scho leit ga,
Thare was nowthir man na beist bot scho vald sla.

Than Alexander had irne chenȝeis lang,
Ordanit to brig riveris, þat war richt strang.
Than, in þat passege quhare that beist sould ga,
He gart stent of thai chenȝeis ane or tua;
Syne gart he sett chartis and chareotis
On athir side, quhill all the way he stoppis,
For he vauld nocht of gold ane mullioun

Bot scho war put anyis to distructioun.
Syne blew thai trumpis, and maid sic hoy and cry,
And sett in batall in the cumpaney;
With that scho drew, and wald haue bene away,
And euer the mare grete noyis and cry made þai,
Quhill at the last þat hiddous feynd of Hell
Amange the chenȝeis and the cartis fell.
Than Alexander him-selff þe first assalȝeit,
Bot quhan scho armeit [was], na straik avalȝeit;
Quhan scho was at þe erde, scho micht nocht rise—
Thay socht about to sla hir in mony wise,
Throw leiskis, condittis, and opynnis of hir body.
Thay slew hir at the last al-vtirlie,
Bot mony men throw hir war hurt and slane,
And all the ost was put in mekill pane.

Than was the ost stroublit and vexit sare,
That thame behuffit bide and refresch þame þare,
Apoun the samyn wattir, was sa clere,
Quhilk was ane stank—nocht lang, as a rivere,
Bot it was [foure-and-twenty] legis of lenth,
Risand of wallis, nocht cumand with na strenth.
And as thai tocht to plant þare pavilliouns,
Sa come þare ane grete menȝe of grete griffouns,
Off quhilkis þe bodyis war grete as ony hors,
And baith had weyngis and leggis apoun þare cors;
The heid, the beig, was like ane erne hede made,
With breist and body wounder thik and brade;
Thare weyngis war of mervellus mekill make,
In hir clukis ane armit man vauld tak.
Syne come þare griffis and nyctigorax,
Off quhilkis the bodyis war mare na ony ox,
With aquilis, vulturis, and vther ferly foulis,
Come to that strand, with schouttis and ȝoulis,
And als thai war in sic ane quantetie
That all that ost war in proplexite.
Thay leiffit of reif of carioun and vther pray—
Ane litill hors þai wald bere quyte away,
And quh[i]lum men þat thai fand thame alane,
Off quhilkis þai war þare mony mannis bane;
And sum of thame had creistis on þare maneȝ

Like to ane cok, þat standis vp to faneȝ,
And with ane lioun hede and mouth and teith.

Than Alexander wald fane haue had asseith
Off his menȝe, quhilk thai slew cruelly,
Bot he couth neuer be maister of þame forthay;
And mony of þare birdis gottin was,
Bot he gart the guydis seik throw the wildernes,
And tursit thame with him in chareotis,
Sayand that he sould find to thame sum notis.
Thay schott þai beistis with gvn and culveryn,
And with mony vther maner of ingine,
Bot thai made nocht of all thare schott a myte.
Thay tuke thare prayis, and flew away full quyte,
And tursit away into thare cumpaney
Out of that stank of fische vnnowmerably,
Off grete [s]elchis, and pellokis, and of quhalis;
Off thare calfis þai tuke baith will and walis,
And of beistis war brocht for victaling,
The quhilk was brocht with thame in-till osting,
With thare tallounis þai sesit and bare away,
That na man in þe oist remede it may.

Than rais the ost, and passit fra þat place,
And happinit in a land of grete riches,
Quhare all the foulis and beistis in þat land
Ar fer greter na ony that euer men fand—
The cowschottis and the dowis war alsa grete
As ony geis þat here a man micht gett;
Guse, hen, or mallart, or like, be likelynes,
Als grete as swan or cran ar in þis place,
And all thing is þare bettir in grete degrie
And fer mare als, þan ony that here we se;
And all metallis, gold, siluer, pretius stanis,
Growis in þi landis, throw quhilk riche mony ane is.

Syne furthwart in þai landis passit he,
Quhill he come to þe land of Femynee,
Off quhilkis thare was of women sic ane nomber
That all that cuntre like was till encombir.
Thay war closit in ane ille within the sey,
Na wauld neuer to na conquerioure obey;
Thay held thare husbandis in ane plane cuntre,

Bot thai wald nocht be thare men g[ou]er[n]it be,
Na of na sowdane, king, na emprioure,
Thay wald nocht mak þare king na gouernoure,
Bot in thare ile held thame ay maist michtie,
With sic ane multitude in cumpaney
Off fare women, custumyit armouris to bare
In thare defence, and made on all men were.
Quhan ony prince wald with thame be sturtand,
Than wald thai cum in osting to the land,
And werray thame, and gif þame plane batall,
Na wald na man haue be þare gouernale.
Than vesyit the king to send ane messingere,
To thame to wrette, and se of þare maner,
And to thare quene, was callit Pallissida,
Of Amasoun and mony landis ma;
And in this wise ane pistill till hir send,
And till hir wourthy ladyschip made kend
That he wald fane bene of hir quentance,
To se thare maner and thare governance:

“Alexander, the king of kingis [with] croun,
Sum tyme bot king of Grece and Macedone,
Sone to god Amon, of his gudlie grace,
And sone alsua to Quene Olimpias,
Till ane wourthy quene, callit Pallissida,
The quene of Madin Land and mony ma,
Greting, with wourschip, honoure, and blaythnes.
We traist to ȝow vnknawin nocht it was
How throw the grace of God ourecummyn haue we
The regiouns hale vnto þe Occiane Se,
And put thame all vnder oure obeysance,
Quhilkis all ar governit be oure ordinance;
And als we trest it is nocht to ȝow vnknawin
How Porrus, King of Ynde, we haue ourethrawin,
And chaisit him fer out-throw the wildernes,
And haldis his landis, his lordschip, and his plac[e].
Quharefore I ask þat ȝe wauld to me send
Sic tribute as to Porrus ȝe pretend,
Sen we haue wonnying and conquest all the laif:
It semes ȝow wele, for landis þat ȝe haue
In gouernance, þat ȝe ws fewta mak,

For and we pas by ȝow, it war bot lake,
That we sa mony men ourethrawin has,
That wemen suld ganestand ws in þis case;
And of þis thing ansure ȝe send ws till,
Of ȝoure intent and of ȝoure gudlie will,
For we think ladyis suld be led be suetnes,
And fauorit and defendit be nobilnes;
And als we vauld knaw ȝoure magnificence,
Ȝoure state, ȝoure wourschip, and ȝoure excellence,
And how ȝe may manteine ȝoure seingȝeory,
And oure sa money kingis had victory,
And nocht obey to prince nor empreouris,
Na thole ȝoure husbandis be ȝoure gou[er]nouris.
It settis nocht ladyis batalis for to lede,
Na conquest landis, na to manteine na fede,
Na maistres oure þare husbandis for to be,
Na governe croun, na realme, na dignetie—
The man is hede to woman, and ledare,
And at his biddin suld be euermare;
Than may ane woman be callit, husbandles,
Like till ane mannys bodie war hedeles,
And greter lak it is, be mekill thing,
To se ane quene be maister oure a king,
For in oure land it wa[r] a frely cais,
A crovnit king to haue a king crounles.”

The messingeris all þus þare leif has tane,
And to þe Quene Palliseay ar gane,
Wnto the ile and landis of Amesoun,
The quhilk was michtie and a grete regioun;
And to the quene the pistill presentit has,
The quhilk grete wourschip to þe message mais,
And callit hir counsale, and the pistil redis,
For with hir counsale did scho all hir dedis.
Quhan scho the pistil vnderstandin had,
Ay to the message wourth chere scho made,
And sone ane vther pistill agane scho wrettis,
And with hir awne mouth propirlie it ditis,
Sic as a quene to kingis wrete efferis,
Quhilk followis efter, in þis maner as here is:

“Palisseda, the Quene of Amasoun,

The quhilk with wourschip conquest has þe croun,
Throw womannis helpe, and throw na man on live:
Suppois to men þat we be spous and wife,
Sen we but man þis wourschip conquest has,
And to defend baith cost and travell mais,
It war folie sic wourschip to diffaid,
And of sic governance oure-selff to deg[ra]de;
Sen oure forebearis, quhilk war wise conqueriouris,
Manteineit thare richt, and vpheld þare honouris,
And we of power and prosperetie
For to defend oure richt in all degrie,
We think it war na witt, bot grete foly,
To giff oure suggettis oure ws ony maistry,
For war oure husbandis of witt to governe ws,
We had nocht tane the maistry till ws þus,
The quhilk we sall manteine quhill we liff may
Aganis all men, to de all on a day.

“As to the tribute that ȝe here ask at ws,
And to ȝoure pistill we ansure ȝow þus:
Sen oure all men þat ȝe haue victorie,
The los of wourschip, and þe seingȝerie,
And [of all] realmis has dominatioun,
Off cuntre, castell, cite, toure, and toun,
And all throw strenth of hand and wourthynes,
And maist douchtie men in ȝoure seruice has,
It war na honoure to [sic] wourthy men
To ask tribute of ladyis nor of woman,
Bot erare in ȝoure wourthynes we wend
Ȝe sould succoure, favore, and defend.
Suppois of all men tribute ȝe haue tane,
As of oure land, trewage ȝe sall haue nane,
Na of oure fredome for to tyne a poynt,
Bot gif ȝe wyn it [at þe] speris poynt;
And gif ȝe think ȝe wald be conquerioure
Off ws, ȝe sall nocht wyn it with honoure—
Þocht ȝe haue wonnying realmes and regiouns hale,
Ȝitt sall ȝe neuer ws conquest but batale;
And tocht ȝe wyn, litill wourschip to ȝow war,
That has the warld conquest throw ȝoure powar,

To ourethraw ladyis and to put þame doun—
It wald defade ȝoure wourschip and renoun;
And gif ȝe tyne, all honoure, los, and glore
It is deg[ra]dit þat euer ȝe wan before.
Bot and ȝo[w] list oure conversatioun knaw,
We sall in wrette ȝow send, and to ȝow schaw:
We d[ue] into ane ile be ws allane,
And vthir cumpaney forsoith we covaite nane
Bot women of oure awne natiuitie,
For we will nocht vnder na subiectioun be;
Oure husbandis ar at oure bidding and will—
Euerilke ȝere we gar þame cum ws till
Into the first begynnyng of the May,
And bidis that moneth to the lettir day,
And syne pas hame into þare awne cuntre,
Apoun the meane-land, fer beȝound the see;
And gif it happynys ws ane barne to haue,
We nuris it sevin ȝere amange þe laiff:
Gif it be knaif, his fader we send him till,
To governe him fra þine furth at his will;
And be it a madin childe, it sall remane,
And neuer to the maneland cum agane.

“Oure land is full of riches and of mycht,
And all oure folk full craftie, ful of slicht,
And makis warkis wounder mervellus,
For all kynd of riches growis within ws,
Baith gold and siluer, silk, and pretius stanis,
Baith corne and wyne, and all that gude for man is,
Baith fische and foule and beist of all nature
That gudlie ar for ony creature.
Oure ile into the Greik Sey standand is,
And ane grete revere, cummys fra Paradise,
Is on oure inner side, towart the land,
Quhilk is baith brade and depe and fast rynnand;
And mony ilis standand in þe sey
Throw oure grete micht we gar tell ws obey.
Oure ile is lang, þat we couth neuer fynd end—
For wildirnes the endis micht neuer be kend—
Bot as we traist, and sic is oure avise,
That ane end strekis evin to Paradise,

Quhilk for to seik, na man may thole the pane,
For mony has previt þat neuer [eft] com agane.
Mony grete princis has sett to conquer oure land,
Bot ȝitt na[ne] mycht of ws haue oure-hand;
And gif ȝow list to schape ws to conquere,
Ȝe sall nocht nede to cum to seik ws here,
For quhan ȝow list at ȝoure awne hartis will,
On the maneland we sall cum furth ȝow till—
In cumpaney of five hundreth thousand
We sall cum furth and mete ȝow on þe land.

“Oure ile is stark and strenthie all about,
That of na erdlie man we haue na dout;
Oure woman ar baith stark, hard, and stoure,
And richt wele made in all þare portrature—
Off þare richt side we schere away a pape
In thare ȝouthhede, quhan þai souke on þe pappe,
Sa that it lett þame nocht to welde þare spere,
Nor for to schute, quhan we pas to the were.
We are sa hie in hart þat we na may
Thole ws to liff in thirldome be þe way,
Nocht to be suiectis till oure husbandis,
Quhilk gart ws sett to conquest vther landis
Beȝond þe flude, and thare to gar thame duell.
Bot maisteris here we will nocht bot oure-sell—
We fynd sic proffeitt to be maistris ay
That we will nocht be subgettis ony way.

“We ar nocht sett in lust of lichorie—
It suffice ws oure sede to multeplie;
We mak ma barnis to mete anis in þe ȝeir
Nor for to ly dalie with oure plesere—
Into the tyme þat we intercomoun
Is the best tyme for oure generatioun
Off hardy men and women, and manly,
Quhilk ar fortounit to lois and victory:
Quhat persoun be ingendrit in þat sessoun,
Thay habill ar to cum to hie fortoun,
Mare na in ony tyme of all þe ȝere,
Sic planettis in þat sessoun regnand ar.
Quhan þat the Ram his cours fulfillit has,
Than cummys the Bull, and his cours efter mais—

The Ram begynnys in Marche into þe myddis,
And to þe myddis of Apprile he bidis,
And efterwart, fra þe myddis of Apprille,
Than begynnys þe Bull, and takis his quhile,
And rengis vnto þe [twenty-sevint] day of Maii;
And in this tyme oure husbandis cummys ay—
Quha beis ingendrit in þat tyme sal be
Off grete wourschip, and abill to carage hie,
For þat þir singis þan in þe Zodiakis
With Mars and Iubiter coniunctiouns makis.
The takin of þe Bul hes sic renoun,
It passis all the laif of hie fortoun;
Tharefore in þat tyme þus governe we,
That oure gude fortoun may evir lestand be.
In the cuntre quhare oure husbandis ar,
May be five hundreth thousand fechtand men, and mare,
And quhan oure husbandis cummys till ws sua,
The feist of Iubiter statelike þan we ma;
Oure husbandis makis till ws obedience,
And gevis all the state and reverence,
And cumys till ws, and bowis to oure wandis,
And haldis of ws thare lordschip and þare landis.
And gif þe list to vesy ws as freynd,
As for als lang as ȝe list here to leynd,
Ȝe ar welcum for ȝoure grete worthines;
And gif þow misteris into batale place,
We sall ȝow send sic succoure as we may,
Ane hundreth thousand fechtaris for a day.”

Quhan Alexander hade hard þe pistill rede,
Gart sembell all his consell he þame bad,
And schew all this thing, as wrettin here is,
And gaif grete giftis to hir messingeris;
And syne ane vthir pistill he gart wrette,
And of þare ansure had richt grete delite,
And to thame worthy messingeris send he,
With sic ane pistill as ȝe sall efter se:
“King Alexander, the king of kingis with croun,
Sone to Quene Olimpias and god Amon,
To ane wourthy quene, Pal[i]ssida,

Off Amasoun and vther landis ma,
Greting in God, with grece and gudelynes:
We make it knawne vnto ȝoure wourthynes,
Sen it is sua þat þis warld halelie [OMITTED]
And gif ȝe suld ganestand oure seingȝorie,
Than had we nocht of the warld maistry.
Bot quhare ȝe say ȝe sall cum oure þe flude,
And mete ws with sa grete a multitude
Out of ȝoure regioun and natiuitie,
We counsale ȝow sic lanage to latt be,
For treulie, and ȝe cum of ȝoure regioun
To giff ws batall, ȝe will tyne the croun,
And all ȝoure landis halelie forlore,
For we haue men þat fleis nocht fra schore;
Bot sen ȝe ar ladyis in sic degrie,
And has ȝoure nature and conditioun,
We sall ȝow make [na] molestatioun,
Bot gar ȝoure husbandis of þe maist wourthy,
Cum speik [with ws], withoutin velany,
And for ȝoure saikis we sall thame mak gude chere,
And farther thame in that [thay] haue mister—
Giff ony man vexis þame vranguslie,
We sall tak plane parte with thame wtirlie,
For we knaw vele þat ȝe lufe nocht Porrus,
For he hes bene to ȝow richt velan[us];
And treistis wele, all word we to ȝow send,
We sall fulfill vnto the vittirest ende.”

Quhen þat þis pistill to þe quene was cumyn,
And rede, and all the langage to hir nummyn,
Scho was richt blayth, and thankit þe wourthy king,
Quhilk till hir send sa gratius ansuering;
And furthwith thare send and made reddie
Ane hundreth lordis in-till a cumpaney,
With thame five hundreth knichtis in gud array
Send till his ost to conditt him the way
Out-throw thare maneland, feistand ryaly.
Sone efter þat scho send honourablie
Ane hundreth palfrayis, quhite as quhalis bane,
With goldin hernes trappit oure ilkane,

A croun of gold, maist ryall of renoun,
With sic ane stane was wourth any myllioun,
With mony vther iowellis richt mychtie,
And hir commendit till his seneȝorie;
And syne scho come and mete him apoun þe way,
Ane thousand ladyis in þare best array,
Armit at all poyntis in þare first meting,
And lichtit syne, and chengit þare clething.
And first scho feistit him apoun þe meane-land,
And euerie ladie hi[r] husband in hir hand,
And syne thai rowit him in within þe ilis—
The flude of brade was [four-and-twenty] milis—
And thare thai festit him richt ryalie,
And he the ladyis made gud cumpaney;
And tuke him to thare lord and governoure,
And of þame and thare landis protectoure.
Than Alexander, quhilk honerabill was ay,
Rewardit thame sa michtelie that thai
War wourth of him for ane penny ane pound,
Confermyt thame ladyis of þare awne ground,
And tuke his leiff with grete solempnitie:
Thus vesyit he the land of Femyne.

Quhan he was cummyn throw-out þe desertis of Ynde,
Than Porrus, quhilk was euer intill his mynd,
He made provisioun for ane new batall,
And newlingis semblit all his power hale,
And sett his batall in [-to] gud arrey,
And thocht to byde and mete him in þe way,
Thinkand that hors and man sould famyst be.
Quhan he come throw the wildernes in þat cuntre,
Sa come þare to the king ane messingere
Fra Madyn Land, sayand in þis maner,
To warne him how the King of Ynde, Porrus,
Was sett in batall for to mete him thus,
And how he had five hundreth oliphantis,
Quhilk as before he to the batall dantis,
Ane thousand chariotis with hukis strang,
Grete as sythis, quhilk was baith scharpe and lang,
And ȝitt he had tua hunder myle to pas

Off wildernes, war na the tothir was,
Off hete, of dragouns, and of want of fude,
And send him fourty gydis þat war gude,
For to gyde him out-throw the wildernes,
Quhare best finding and wattir was;
And gif him likit ony of þe laif
Off hir menȝe, bad him bot ask and haue.

The guydis him guydit out-throw þe last deserte,
With mekill hunger and thirst and panis smerte,
Quhare edderis, serpentis, liouns, and dragounis,
Hillis and craggis, forestis but ony tovnis
War in þare way, quhare herbry gatt thai nane,
And of thare menȝe tynt had money ane.
The wattir was sa bittir and sa brak,
Thare was na man micht drink it but a lak,
Quhill at the last þai fand ane fresche fontane,
To quhilk the ost to refresche þame ar gane.

Tua hunder oliphantis war in his cumpaney,
Chargit with gold and siluer and perry,
Ane thousand mulis, camelis, and dromedaris,
With wther cartis and chariottis þat with þame þare is,
Chargit with riches and armory,
With iowellis and veschell, and with tressoury;
Ane multitude vnnomerabill of catall,
Off all maner of kynd of bestiall,
With merchantis in þare buthis and palliouns,
Richt as þai war in ceiteis and in townis,
And everie day it was like till ane fare,
As in ane merkett, þare was sa grete repare,
With changeouris, cunȝeouris, bying and selling,
And men of craft ay forgeand everie thing,
That sic haboundance was of all riches
That everie man was riche, mare and les.

Bot of freche wattir was þe maist skant þat þai hade,
Throw quhilk þe pepill sic ane murmoure made
That sum drank vly, sum drank thare awne steling,
Sum soukis barkis of treis, sum vther thing,
Sum like irne, sum rubbis flynt or stanis,
That all the folk till vther made sic manys

That petie was to here þare grete regrate;
Quhilk all the folk sa werry was and mate,
Quha in sic tyme had cummyn on þare menȝe,
Full esely þai micht discomfist be.
Than Alexander, for hete and thrist he had,
Likit the pomill of his swerde, and blade.
Syne efter that come liouns and dragounis,
Oliphantis, grete swyne and furious—
The swyne war grete as hors is in þis land,
The liouns quhite and mekill and fast rampand;
The liouns war als mekill, or wele mare,
Na ony oxin þat in þis cuntre war.
Sa come þare wodwiȝ, rouch, men of mekill strenth,
Quhilk had as semyit [fiftene] fute of lenth,
With grete rauff treis into thare hand þai had,
And on þe armit men grete strakis lade.
Syne come þare beistis, as camelis or wele mare,
Quhilkis lang scharpe hornes in þare hedis bare,
And vodly rampand oure the men þai ran—
Thay tuke na kepe quhilk was besit, quhilk was man.
The wodwiȝ chasit þe beistis vp and doun,
With thare grete bloykkis to gett thame venesoun;
Thare wiffis syne come efter thame rynnand,
Ilkane ane grete sapplyne into þare hand,
And fellit of þe feyast of þe swyne,
And to the small catall þai tuke þame syne;
And in defending of þare small catall,
Thay sett apoun þame all the hale batall,
And of thame tuke and slew grete quantetie;
Als þai gart money of the batall de:
Quh[am] that thay hitt with full strak, þai war tynt—
Thare mycht nane armoure saif thame fra þare dynt.
Thai beistis, quhilkis þi hornes lang had þus,
Thare hornes was baith scharpe and vennomus,
With grete scherpe teith, and subtell of ingyne—
The oliphantis þai slew, and ete thame syne.
Off sic beistis we can nocht tell the names,
Bot in tong of Ynde þai call þame sidendranys.

Quhen Alexander þame saw, þan his curage grew,

For oft before sic felloun beistis he slew,
And on him sett, and brocht Bussiffall,
And he that sparit neuer his travell
Gais to gud spede, and hitt him on þe side,
And till him made ane wound, was brade and wide,
That to þe erde he past, and gaif ane ȝell,
The likest it had bene ane feynd of hell;
His bake and hede sa armit was with plate,
That thare was na man mycht strake apoun him gate
Bot in þe wame, of platis quhilk was bare—
Quhat was þare ellis bot he was endit thare.
Than fand thai thare ane stank of wattir fresche,
Quhilk was grovin with redys and with resche:
The redis quhare þai lay, and brokin þare,
Grete as ane litill barrell lik þai ware;
Out of þai redis come myse and vther beistis,
Als grete as haris or toddis quhilkis þat leist is,
The dede men raif, and memberis bare away
Wnto thare cavis, in redis quhare thai lay;
And quhare þai bait men in þe nycht slepand,
Thai fand thame on þe morne all dede liand.
And the bakkis quhilkis flaw in þe evynnyngis
War mekill as cowschottis þat in woddis singis,
Quhilkis had letheryng wingis, with pykis lang;
And the nycht þai flaw þe folk amange,
Thai woundit mony men into þe face,
Sa scherpe the poyntis of þare wingis was.
Syne in the mornyning come grete multitude
Off beistis that wald drink into that flude;
Bot nane wald drink quhill that the vnicorne
Had drunkin, and purgit þe wattir with his horne,
Becaus the vennoun of þe tigris and dragouns
Had strublit all þe wattir with poysouns.
Than, efter þat þe beistis drunkin had,
The ost blew vp withoutin mare abade;
And sone thai come in-till ane fare cuntre,
Quhare thare was welth of leiffing at plentie.
Quhan thai saw thai war past þe wildernes,
Thai chesit thame ane plesing lugeing place,
And furthwith þai plantit þare palȝouns,

And send and fechit all new provisiouns.
The ryver quhare thai lay was callit Galus.
Off quhilk the newis come sone to King Porrus,
The quhilk in-till his harte grete mervell has
That thai war chapit throw the wildernes.

Than had Porrus assemblit his menȝe,
Off all þe power he micht gudlie be,
Bot neuertheles he askit trewis of pece
For [twenty] dayis, gif þat his willis was,
And wnder that contraffit ane grete dissate,
And sett apoun him, he tocht, at the wate.
Bot Alexander was wissare all way,
For every swyke him-selff beswykis ay;
Quhilk Alexander him grantis planely,
And vnder that purvayit him mychtely,
And restit him, and all his ost refreschit,
For thai war all with hete and hunger thr[e]schit.
For Alexander wald nocht the trewis giff
Bot all merchantis to cum and gang had leif—
Thus stude the merkett euer contynually,
And his ost was recomforte mychtely,
The quhilk was almaist famyst for defalt;
And had thai in the tyme gevin thame a salt,
Thai mycht haue bene discomfeist esely—
For hete and hunger and thrist þai war slepy,
And sic ane tyme ane ost may be ouretane,
That few men may discomfeist mony ane.

Alexander lay on the ryver of Galus,
And in the citie of Baultre lay Porrus,
To quhilk bot was ane half iournay betene,
For Alexander vald richt fane him haue sene;
And callit to him Caulus in privatie,
And tocht how thai micht pas him for to se.
Sa tuke thai to thare purposis and avise
To change þare clething, and thame dissagise,
Like as thai merchantis war, or officeris,
And tuke with thame siclike graith as efferis;
And callit Alexander the kingis tortissare,
And sum men callis þe kingis walk-makare,
And Caulus cald his knave familiare syne;

And cled thame in tua cottis of camyllyne,
Richt husband-like, and nocht in clething gude—
Thai war baith richt vnlikly quhare þai stude.
And syne þai lap baith on vnlikly as,
On quhilk ane pellane sadill girdit was,
Stuffit with strea, and þareon cassin ane poik;
Caulus kest syne ane vnlikly cloik,
Ane pare of crelis for to put in sum ware,
And syne past furth, tua merchandis as þai war.

Thus to þe toun of Baultre passit thai,
With cuntre-men þai fand passand the way,
And with thai cuntremen þai passit talkand,
For thai knew wele the langage of þe land
(The maner of þe trewe was takin sa
That all merchandis sould planely cum and ga).
Thus towarte the citie as þai went,
To spy thare fais, and to knaw thare entent,
Thai mete of gentill men ane grete menȝe
Ridand about the citie for to se,
The quhilkis, quhan thai saw cumand fra the ost,
Like drunkin carlis, crakand with mekill boist,
Thay bade and spak, and speris of þare tything,
Giff þai of þe Gregios wist onything.
Than Alexander made the first ansure,
Sayand that [h]e cum fra the men of were,
And that he was with thame richt speciall,
And knew richt wele alhale the gouernale.

Than was King Porrus thare in his avne persoun,
And fane vald hald with thame collatioun,
And sperit at him quhat kyn a man he was,
“I am ane torche-maker, be Godis grace;
Ane hors-verlot is in my cumpaney,
Is cumyn hors-helteris and schone to by,
And I vald fane be walx, and weik alsa,
To my lordis chalmer wax lichtis to ma;
And fare schir, gif ȝe be ane officer,
We pray ȝow to gar ws haue entre here,
That we may by oure merchandeis, we tua—
Thay say merchandreis may sauflie cum and ga.”

Than sayis Porrus, “Gif þow a torchere be,

Thow art oure vsfill a man, as semys me,
Off sic ane prince ane office for to beare,
With thai foul pellane and thai drourrymere.”
Than said the king, “Fare schir, I sall ȝow say:
Oure maisteris ar fordoverit all the way,
Sum hungerit, sum ar seik for thrist and hete;
Thus fourtie dayis gatt we [n]ane fill of mete,
Nocht anys oure fill of freche wattir to drink—
The wattir of þis land has sic ane stynk;
Quharefore we ar bot seruandis cummyn here,
To mak seruice in stede of oure maistere.”

Than said Porrus, “How standis it with ȝoure king?
How hes he governit him into sic ane thing?”
“Full ill, gudman, and ȝe wist all the soith—
Ȝone wildernes sa hate is, and sa mvth,
And poysound all with beistis venemous,
It is ferly that we haue chapit þus:
Thare is na man that is chapit bot a lake,
For we haue all oure dede apoun oure bak,”
“Bot of þe king, gude fallow, I the pray,
The soithfastnes þat þow vauld to me say,
And I sall gar the haue sum courtessy,
Off sum mony, þai merchandreis to by.”

Than said Caulus, “Þow terryis here all day,
Quhill helteris and hors-schone will be away,
And of candill-wekis þow sall get nane
In this merkett quhan tyme of day is gane.”
Than said Porrus, “My gude fallow, latt be—
Thare is yneuch in þis merkett for þe
Off schone, of nalis, of wax and weik,
And helteris als sall cost þe bot þai speik.”

Than lukit Alexander on side to Schir Caulus,
Sayand, “I trow God send þis man to ws,
To mend ws with sum siluer to þe drink”;
With that he nodit, and begouth to wenk.
Than said Caulus, “Þat war ane gudlie thing—
Than mycht we by, and spaire oure awne spending.”
With that Porrus said till ane lord him by,

“This thing cumynis vele—we neid nane vther spy,”
And rownyt till him, and syne tuke in his hand
Ane neffull of gold, of cunȝe of þe land,
Sayand, “Methink ȝow art ane fallow fyne—
Mak the gud chere, pas in and drink þe wyne,
And syne þow fill þi bottell of the best;
Spare nocht to spend quhill þis mony may lest.”

Than said Porrus, “Gude fallow, I pray the,
Off Alexander and his prosperetie—
How standis it with him, sen all the ost ar sa?
Me think þow said he may nowthir ride na ga.”
“Treulie,” said he, “he gais bot þus and þus”—
And fenȝeit as he war decerpitus—
“His memberis crukit and vnfery ar—
Men doutis that he recover neuer mare;
He is corrumpit and brokin in his cors—
Bot he haue helpe, he may neuer lepe on hors;
He brekis out of scabis all his bodie—
He may neuer were nane armoure, trest treulie;
And oft he takis ane bluding at his nois:
It is petie, sa wourthy a man he was.”

Than said Porrus, “Fallow, thow art wourth þe wyne—
Thow sall a pare of botellis haue of myne;
Pas in and make þe gude chere, I pray þe.
Quhen thow has doune, cum furth and speik with me;
And thow will bare my lettir to þi king,
I sall the gif a bettir gardonying.”
The king says, “Be lay that I on liff,
My awne handis the lettir sall him giff.”
Than said the king, “Bot quha will kepe oure mere
Quhill we pas in þe toun to by oure gere?”
The King Porrus said, “Toirchere, for þi saik
Thare sall na man ane penny fra the tak,
For nocht þat þow will tak of merchandice.”
The king ansuerid, said, “Fare schir, gra-mercys.”
The king gart feche grete flakkis full of wyne,
Wer of fyne gold, gaif him his lettir syne.
Thai drank into the toun, and gude chere mais—
Quhateuer þi tuke, na man a penny tais.

Ane grete birding of helteris þai haue tane,
Off weik and wax, and hors-schone mony ane,
And at the porte thai bocht ane wther mere,
And ilkane of thame rede on his awne gere;
Thai feinȝeit thame as þai had drunkin yneuche—
For thare maneris, all men þat saw thame leuch,
Thai tuke thare leiff, and hamewart sone þai hyitt,
And all the maner of þe citie spyit.

The lordis war abasit of þe king,
Wend that he had bot slepit þe mornyning;
Sa was ridand Dawclyne and Tholomee
About the feildis, the cuntre for to se,
Saw tua sum cum, merchandis as þai ware,
Thocht thai wald bide, sum newis for to spere.
Thay knew thame nocht, thai war sa ny[ce]ly cled,
Bot to the kingis palȝoun thai come led,
And thare thai war dispuleȝit sone of all thing—
Tha[n] fe[r]lyit thai þat it sould be þe king.
The king gart sembill þe douseperis all in fere,
And tauld thame all the case and the maner,
And schaw thame als þe flakkounys and þe wyne,
And of þe gold and of the letteris syne,
Off his gude and of his merchandise
Quhilk thai had gottin, and cost þame litill price,
And how þai had him sene, and spyit alhale
His ost, his citie, and his gouernale,
And tald thame all the maner of his talking,
And how he send this lettir to þe king,
The quhilk contenit nathing bot diffyance
Till him, his lordis, and all his allyance.
Be this the oist richt wele refreschit was,
And hade yneuch of victuale and riches;
He callit his counsale and his governance,
And of his batallis made his ordinance.

Quha was blithare na was Porrus þe king
That he of Alexander had sic tything,
Thinkand to wyn him and the cuntre hale,
And he micht anys ouretak him in batall;
And semblit all þe princis of þe Orient,
And with all power to þe feild is went:

Wele [sevin-and-twenty] kingis with him þare was,
Ane hundreth dukis and merquissis, mare and les—
He was of men wele five hundreth thousand,
And neuer man bot of his propir land.
Off all kingis Porrus maist michty was
That was before him, saiffand Exerses,
Quhilk Egipt conquest, and mekill of Occident,
Quhen Neptanabus made his enchantment,
And saw the godis of þe est cuntre
Suld of þe westland goddis maister be—
And thus him-selff he bannyst of þe land
Als lang as þai estir goddis war regnand;
Syne be þe ansure of god Syraphus
It was revelit þat god Neptanabus
Off his body a blosum sould remane,
Suld bring Egip to fredome all agane,
And of all landis sould mak vnetie,
Fra Paradise vnto þe Occiane Se.

Than Porrus wend all thing south had bene,
As the thorchere before had gart him wene,
And tocht he sould ourethraw þe Gregiȝoȝ hale.
And all the laif was cummyn in his batale,
And ordanit him of chareottis ane thousand,
With hukis as sithis scharpe and wele scherand;
Five hundreth oliphantis as of before he had,
With somer-castellis on þare bakkis brade,
And ordanit þame to fecht, and na man tak,
Becaus the birnand men his batall brak.
Than Alexander gart mak for þame agane—
For he had evir spyis to witt thare trane—
Grete delffis in þe erde before his men,
Richt depe, of lenth and brede, and cubeittis ten,
And maid of thame richt mony, to and fra,
Quhare þare batall behuffit for to ga:
For caus he wist wele all thare ordinance,
Tharefore he chusit þe feild at his plesance—
It is grete witt to chiftane, and gane forthwart,
To tak in fechting ay defenderis part.

Than Alexander his batall had devisit
Lang tyme before, and chiftanis to thame chesit:

To wourth Dawclyne he the vangard gaif,
And ilkane held the ordoure of þe laif;
And alsua Askarus, King of Nubie,
Had the vangard of Porrus cumpaney.
[T]he bemes blew, þe folk togidder strak,
And everie man in fechting chusit ane make:
Thus Dauclyn and the King of Nuby mett.
The quhilk ilkane sa graithl[i]e vther grett,
With scherpe speris in myddis of þe scheild,
Quhill hors and man lay flachtlingis in þe feild;
Off Dauclyn baith þe girthis and sadill birst,
And sonest on his fette he gat vp first,
And Askarus sa stonyst was and dosit
That sicht and hering wele nere he had losit.
Than Dauclyn with ane brand him beffit sare,
And bakwart to þe erde agane him bare,
And on þe left schulder hit him quhare he lay,
Wnder þe scheild, and strake his arme away—
He bled sa fast quhare he lay on þe ground
That he was dede within ane litill stound.

The Duke Baulter was cumand in þe tyde;
The king him saw with sic a pomp and pride—
He spurrit Bussifell, and till him drew,
And strak him throw the body, and þare him slew;
Syne till ane wther, of Sadoch King þat was,
And hors and man straik baith doun in þe pres.
With that the oliphantes come in arrey,
And made þe kingis ost sa grete affray,
For till bot few he schew his subtell wittis,
Throw quhilkis he made the delphis, holis, and pittis.
Porrus wist wele he had na man of bras,
As of before his batall vincust was;
And for he saw that Alexander was thare,
Sa fresche on hors, and nowtherane seik na sare,
Quhilk the torchear had made him lesing,
He made mare dred and dout, be mekill thing,
And kest in-till his hart it sould be he
Quhilk had contruffit sic ane subtelete:
His hart was dredand for his grete fortoun,

And for the wourthy dedis that he had doun.

Syne come thare in thre kingis of Tartaryn,
The King of Cartage and of Belmaryn,
And with thame mony bla men in batall,
Quhilkis followit on the oliphantis hale,
Thinkand quhan thai had schawin þare vigure,
Thay sould conclude all þis discomfiture.
Thay gart sa clene þe erde bere fra þe! place
Quhare that the delffis and holis makin was,
And coverit oure with treis and turfis grene,
That in þe warld þare was na man vald wene
Bot it war clene and far vndemest land:
Quhill at the last thay come on fast stalpand,
And sidlingis þame sa grete a multitude
Off chareotis, quhare the hukis and sithis stude,
The quhilkis vpone þe Gregioȝ tocht to sett,
And on the Massadanus þame for to lett.

Bot lord! quhat þare was hidduous goule and granis,
Quhen cartis and oliphantis all fell doun attanis,
And founderit in þai pittis, that all men saw.
Than Alexander gart all the trumpetis blaw,
And sic ane rerde was in that ost that day,
Quhan everie carte tumland on vthir lay,
And oliphantis and castellis fell in sounder—
Þocht Porrus than was wa, it was na wounder.
The dousperis, quhilkis in þe kingis batall ware,
Ilkane of þame sett on his fallow þare:
The King of Maroc Tholome strak doun,
The Duke Melor sa did Emenedoun;
Dauclyn to Porrus dressit him inkirly,
And he agane mett him richt manfuly,
And brake þare speris in þe myddis of þe pers;
Bot Alexander, þat nereby reddy was,
Spurrit Bussifall als fast as he micht found,
And strake him hors and man baith to þe ground,
And on him lichtit, and sesit him presonere.
Bot he was sone reskewit in gud maner,
And brocht agane amange his menȝe all;
Bot quhan he saw his cartis and oliphantis fall,

And of his men slane sic ane multitude,
Than out of witt he wox nerehand, as wod,
And said to Alexander on fer, and cryid,
And prayit him to gar his batallis byde,
And spak with him in hope of gud trety,
To mak frendschip, and latt all weris be,
And he sould make him manrent be his hand,
Saiffand his lyffe, his wourschip, and his land,
And in all thing to governe at his will.

Than Alexander consentit sone þaretill,
And gart þe batallis sone arrengit be,
And Porrus richt sa did till his menȝe;
Than King Porrus hes tane his swerde in hand,
And come to Alexander on fute rakand,
And him betaucht þe swerde vp be þe hilt,
Sayand, “Oure mekill of mannis blude is spilt—
Tharefore I rede we mak frendschip for ay;
And here I am ȝoure man, be my gud fay,
And for to pas with ȝow in ȝoure conquest,
To serve ȝow lelely quhill my lyffe may lest.”
King Porrus was a man of hi[e] renovne,
Ane mekill man, and of ane sture fassoun;
And Alexander was of litill quantete,
Bot richt wele made and wele-favorit was he,
For in that tyme in all þis warld na was
Sa mekill vertew into sa litill space—
For litill thing oft tymes may be full gude,
For wictoure makis nother strenth na multitude.

Than Alexander recauit him till his grace,
And grantit him, before all þat þare was,
That of all his landis suld he be lord,
For he bad na thing bot soueranite,
And prayit him þat he vald with him wend
To wesy all the grete mervellus of Ynde.
And he him grantit that, with richt gud will,
With all seruice þat he micht do him till,
And all lordis and princis halely
Come to the king, richt blayth and iofuly,
And made him homage and soueranete,
At his bidding and seruice for to be.

The king gart cry that all þare men war ane,
And all his men with Porrus ride and gane,
And cheiff nixt him of all his cumpaney,
First of counsale, and prince of chevelry.

Than Alexander before þe lordis hale
Callit all the ost and pepill in generale,
And made Porrus lorde of his awne cuntre,
And next him-selff, ledare of his menȝe.
Than said Porrus, “Now se I wele, but wene,
That mony lesingis on ȝow made hes bene,
For men callit ȝow cuvatus, but ressoun, all ramage,
Vncunnand, gredy, fyry, and savage,
And but gentrice, þat na man micht ȝow trowe;
Off quhilk I se all þe contrare now,
For I se wele ȝe ar baith war and wise,
And of largeis and gentrice beris þe price:
And here for me my seruice I ȝow gif,
My lufe, my laute, my hart quhill I liffe—
Sa fare ane gift was nevir gevin to man
As ȝe may gif, sen first the warld begane.”
Than Alexander gart deliuer all agane
His castellis, townis, lordschipis, and demane,
And all þe presoneris þat takin was,
He gart deliuer agane into that place.
Than Porrus led the king till his palece principall,
And of riches bald him tak will and wale,
And feistit him, and rayale chere him made,
And of his gold tak quhat he wald, him bade;
And bad his lordis tak thame of þe best
Gold or tressoure or iowellis, quhat þame list.
Than said the king, “I bid nocht ȝoure tressoure—
I desire bot ȝoure lufe and ȝoure favoure.”

Than chesit thai out a certane of cumpaney,
For þai bad nocht of pepill oure money,
Becaus that Alexander desirit to se
The sindrie kyndis of folkis in þat cuntre;
And furth þai past, and seik thare aventure,
Ane wourthy ost of sturdy men and sture.
Thay fand ane pepill callit was Stalbianis,
And efter, ane wther þat callit was Vareanis;

The thrid pepill callit war Perymones,
Quhilkis ilkane of sindrie langage was.
Syne fand he ane pepill callit Aspios,
And syne ane wthir, þe quhilk was callit Mangos.
Syne come thai till ane montane mervellus,
Quhare nixt it was ane waill richt hidduous,
In the quhilk waill it was all-wayis nycht,
Quhare na man micht ane vther se with sicht,
For it was all oure-[silit] with ane cloude;
Bot ȝitt þe folk tharein was spekand loude—
Thay come neuer furth, na commonit with na men.
It stude betuix tua hillis in a glen—
Off thare merknes wist nane þe caus quhy;
To nane þai commonit, nor made cumpaney.

Syne come þai till ane land of grete riches,
Quhare mony richt fare men and women was,
And stately cled in clathis of gold clenely,
Quhilk governit þame richt wounder honestlie;
And all thir folk made him obedience,
With grete giftis, honoure, and reuerence.
Thare housis was of metall biggit all,
Sum gold, sum siluer þe tymmer, grete and small,
And sum of irne, efter þare qualete,
For in thare land þare grew na vther tre.
Money wylde beistis, as serpentis and dragouns,
War in that land, baith tygris and liouns;
Ane revare grete, quhilk was sa stiff rynnand
That na veschell mycht pas fra land to land.

Syne was ane ile off wodwiȝ stark and sture,
All taty rouch, of manly portrature,
With mony wemen of þe samin kynd,
Quhilkis wounnand war in þai desertis of Ynde.
Syne come þare sic ane herde of oliphantis
And vnycornis þat in that cuntre hantis,
On quhilkis þe wodwyȝ huntit and made were;
An[e] sapplyne in þare hand ilkane þai bere—
Thay war wele [fiftene] fute in lenth, or mare,
Wele half ane elne of lenth þare schortest here;
The appill of þe cheik, with fute and hand,
Was smeith as we, na hare þareon growand.

The womanys richt sua hingand pappis [h]as,
And fer ferrer na men þai had þare face.
Trest wele, quhare gold and gere maist growand is,
Is nocht maist plesand duelling þare, I wis—
Thai folk liffis on na thing bot on venesoun,
And duellis in craggis, and nowther in hous nor toun.
And quhan thai saw the armyt men cum sua,
[Thay] lap into þe flude, and swame þame fra—
Thay tuke alsweill þe fische into þe flude,
Richt as þai did þe wylde beistis in wode;
Thare teith was like þe tuskis of a swyne—
Thay ete raw flesche, and drank þe blude out syne.
In-to that land thare was a beist fleand,
With hornes apoun hir hede standand
The quhilk was hard as flent, the lenth of a span,
Quhilk in the vissage hurt mony a man.
The butterfleis ar grete as dowis ar here,
With wþer foulis of mervellus maner.
Into that land the hete is mervellus
In sommer sessoun, ay richt perrelus;
In winter, quhill sic tempestis ar, but dout,
And quh[i]lis sic hete þat na man may byde thareout.

Syne efter þis in ane cuntre þai come
Quhilk Bragmanaris ar callit be þare name,
Apoun ane revare cummys fra Paradice,
Quhare riches ay redoundis mony wise,
With alkyn beistis, catell, corne, and ky,
Baith gold and siluer and pretius perry;
The silk, the woll, apoun the treis þare grew,
And everie moneth frute ripand new.
The folk war swete, gentill, of gude maner,
And to the king þai made richt wourth chere.
Thai had ane king was callit Dyndimus,
And till him wrette þe king ane pistill þus:

“Kyng Alexander, þe king of kingis with croun,
Sone to þe Quene Olimpias and Amoun,
To the King of Bragmarmaris, Dindimus,
With ioy and blythnes sendis greting þus:
We haue hard tell of ȝoure gudlie leving,

The quhilk has plesit ws in mekill thing,
That reulis ȝow with wertew and iustice;
And all ȝoure folk ar haldin kindly wise,
And governis sua into ȝoure awne cuntre
That of nane vther menis helpe nede ȝe;
And als into ȝoure-selff sa wise ȝe ar
That ȝe nede nocht of na vther mennis lare.
Quharefore we mak ȝow prayer hartfully
That ȝe vauld find ws of þe maist worthy
Off ȝoure clerkis, to teich ws of ȝoure liffing,
Off ȝoure visdome, ȝoure vertew and haiffing,
That we micht follow ȝoure gudly governance,
For oure liffe has fra ȝouris grete distance;
For men sayis that ȝe watt richt mekill thing
Quhilk we haue nocht into oure gouernying,
And mekill merite is to teich and ken,
Quha maist of witt has, to vnwitty men,
For visdome is like to ane lamp of licht,
Quhilk in þe myrk garris sichtles men haue sicht,
And with his licht may lichting all the laif,
And ȝitt his lamp na les of licht sall haue.
And hereattoure my faith to ȝow I fest,
Thare sall nane do displesance na molest
To ȝow na ȝouris, in na maner of wise,
Bot pleis thame in oure best maner of wise.”
Quhan that this pistill come to Dyndimus,
Ane vthir pistill he sendis to þame þus:

“Till Alexander, the king of kingis with croun,
The sone of Quene Olimpias and god Amon,
We, Dyndimus, the King of Bragmanaris,
Greting till ȝow and all þat with ȝow þare is,
Prayand oure goddis to saue ȝour excellance [OMITTED]
In quhilk ȝe say ȝe desire oure all thing
To ken oure law, and maner of oure liffing,
The quhilk is grundit apoun veretie,
On sapience and perfite cheretie;
For quhilk men suld gif ȝow a grete loving
That ȝe desire visdome atoure all thing,
For quha desyris visdome and soithfastnes,

Is takin þat þai ar in þe way of grace:
For vise men ar nocht repute anerly
The men that hes þe wisdome propirly,
Bot als wele þat it desirit to haue
May wele be coimptit wise men amange þe laif.
And sic thing is mare lovabill in a king
Na ony vther man, be mekill thing,
For visdome passis all thing in gudenes:
For visdome is nocht bot the way of grace,
Quhilk ledis men to ioy þat lestis euer,
And garris his harte fra wikkitnes disseuer;
For king that has na visdome na prudence,
How sould he hald folk in obedience?
He may nocht lang hald dominatioun,
Þocht for a tyme he bare ane saikles croun,
Bot his subiectis sall maister oure þame be
Quhen he wenys best to reule his maiestie.

“Crovn is nocht gevin onlie for dignetie,
To syre in sege of he soueranite,
Bot to kepe law to all men, and iustice,
Quhilk thare may na man do bot he be wise;
And gif him-selff can nocht sic gouernale,
Than sould he cheis him men of wise counsale,
And cheris thame, and hald thame nere his cors,
And than behuffis him for to be wise of force.
Bot mony wenyis þat riches visdome ay has,
Bot maist of wisdome leist of riches mais—
Quhare maist of riches is, thare is maist foly,
For it and visdome haldis neuer gud cumpaney.
Tharefore I traist, þocht ȝe oure custumiȝ knaw,
Ȝe may neuer kepe oure liffing na oure law,
For we lufe nane þat luffe has to riches—
Mare he lufe God, he luffis riches þe les.
Als we trow nocht in sic goddis as ȝe,
Na ȝoure maneris we hald in na degre,
Na of ȝoure custumes we desire na thing,
Na kepis nocht for to knaw of ȝoure liffing;
Or quhat may proffitt ȝow oure vse to knaw,
Bot gif ȝe had desire to kepe oure law,
Or quhat may proffitt ȝow to schaw ȝow it

Be worde, bot gif ȝe had it into writt;
And gif it gais fra ȝoure opinioun,
Ȝe wald bot mak at ws derisioun.
Als ȝe ar fest sua into warldlynes,
Quhilk severis fra þe gate of gudelynes,
And oure law makis mentioun of na thing
Bot þat pertenis to euerlestand liffing,
For saul merit, and for to wyn þe glore
Off lestand liffe, quhilk we ar ordand for.

“Bot sa that men say nocht þat we this do
For pride, or for haitrent we haue ȝow to,
We sall discrive ȝow sum part, for cheretie,
Off oure custumes, grundit in veretie:
We Bragmanaris [ar] sympill in oure lyving,
Quhilkis to kepe law has chosing oure-selff ane king,
Quhilkis kepis sa wele þe laye þat we liff in;
We kepe bidding, and haldis ws out of syn,
Na we will nocht excede in arrogance,
Bot in all thing contentis ws sufficience—
With litill fude we tempir oure liffing,
For nature is content of litill thing.
We sustene all iniuris with patience,
For vrang na revery we mak na defence.
We haue na ioy of superfluite,
Bot ay content to liff in sympilte;
We hald gude liffing þe erde for to laboure,
To wyn þe sustinance of oure nature,
The sede to saw, and syne þe grouth to g[a]dder,
And liff in le, as forrow did oure fader.

“We hald leful to ete þe frute of treis,
And herbis that growis in gardingis, as men seis,
To sett nettis, and tak the fische of fludis,
And all sic senles gouernance þat gude is,
And beistis and foule þat fleis in oure regioun,
Ordanit for mannis sustentatioun;
Bot we ete neuer of oure awne mete oure fill,
Bot sobirly ay liffand with gude will.
Thare is na thing mare of oure dede we wite
Bot for to ete quhill we tyn appetite.
Quha wald haue lang liffe and prosperete,

In mete and drink suld euermare sobir be,
For traist wele, man quhilk daly etis his fill
Sall nocht liff lang withoutin vncouth ill;
And als with ws a man war haldin vnwise
For till excede in mete in ony wise,
And quh[an] we sic ane man of liffing knaw,
We bannis him, baith fra oure land and law—
We will nocht thole na wicis with ws rest,
For vicious men of outrage may nocht lest.

“It suffice ws oure nedis of nature,
And of na surfett haue we neuer cure—
Tharefore þare will na siknes till ws ryn.
We haue na myster of na medicyn:
Fra cald, exces, fra women and fra wyne [OMITTED]
Sic abstinence haldis euer oure nature hale,
And kepis ws þat we de nocht quhill oure day.
And þus but pane deand, we were away
But ony langoure or infirmetie—
We faid as frute þat fallis of þe tre,
Or lamp þat hes na vly, all consumyt.
And þis oure liffe has euer bene custumyt,
For alsua naturall is ane man to de
As to be borne, as in oure law fynd we;
And quhasa deis anys wele, þai wald neuer
Out of þat liffe þat thai ar in dissever,
Mare na a king þat leiffis here out of pane
Wald in his moder wame be put agane.
Nec vllum medicamentum ad vitam nostram prolongandam querimus
Ne seik we nowther herbe na medicine
Quhan we se that to dede we mon inclyne,
Bot oure saul in His handis we commend
That ws has made, and in þis warld ws send,
Traistand it gais till Him but mare abade,
For to remane with Him þat it has made.
We haue nowther cald nor hete attoure mesure,
Na felis na panys, seiknes, nor dolloure;
Oure desiris we fill nocht in na kynd,

Bot in als fer as nature giffis throw kynd;
Oure housis all ar hale of a mesure,
And everie man elike has of honoure,
For God of mankynd made na differance,
Bot vertew bringis a man till excellance.
We ete and drink þat is necessite,
And liffis togidder all in comynyte,
Na nede na iustice nor correctioun,
For we mak na exces of vnressoun.

“Bot ȝe that is ane emprioure maist he,
Quhilk of out fais has supe[r]iorete,
And hes ourecumyin ȝoure outwart fais on fors,
Study to fleme þe fais out of ȝoure cors,
For wald ȝe h[a]ld ȝoure inwart fais at were,
Ȝoure outwart fais suld neuer do ȝow dere.
We ete sic kynde of mete as best we think,
With sobirnes, and clene wattir we drink;
The skynnys of beistis þat we ete,
We mak in claithis, to kepe ws fra þe hete,
And fra the cald into þe winter tide,
For at na fire we haue na will to byde.
We do all thing in name of Him þat beildis,
Quhilk is oure God, and to Him gracis ȝeildis.
We haue na guidis, riches, nor nane will haue,
Na cravis na gude, nor na man will we crave;
We speik but litill, bot prayer and loving,
Ay ȝeildand grace to þe Hevinnis King.

“We ar nowther gredy nor covatus:
And quhatsumeuer be avaricius,
The gold of all þis warld him fillis nocht,
And quhan he deis, þe richest has richt nocht,
For we desire pouerte and sympilnes.
Tharefore þare is na invy in oure place:
We haue na pledis, na armoure nane we bare—
We desire bot pace, lufe, treuth, sobirnes, bot were.
We gif na gracis na remissiouns,
For here is nane þat has falt of perdouns.
We lufe nane exces in na kynd of degre,
Na with na kynd of syn smyttit ar we.
We haue neuer suddand dede in oure ending,

Na wengance cumand for oure mysdoing,
For we fyle nocht the are for oure mysdede.
Bot all thing that we do requiris nede:
We pride ws nocht of iolite of claithis,
Na ȝitt oure wiffis na pridfull clething has—
Quhat difference is betuix the carioun
That is cled in burale, forbe in skarlett broun?
We tak na bathis, nor nane vnȝementis,
For þat we coimpt grete syn in oure ententis,
Wenand to mend the fessoun of nature,
Quhilk God hes made till oure awne portratoure—
Men may nocht do to God mare displesing
Na wene to mend his mak in ony thing.

“Ilkane is elike seruand here till wther,
For quhat ressoun war we oure brother
Suld apoun force compell till oure seruice,
Sen baith oure cors to God is of ane prise?
Quhan we ar cald, we draw ws to þe son,
Quhen oure grete hete, in cavis þan we w[o]n,
And vther bissines rycht nane haue we,
Bot thank and love and serue God quhill we de.
In oure awne hous we mak oure sepulture—
We haue na dred of man to steik oure dure.
Scolis of science cummys neuer here away,
Bot efter law of nature we liff ay,
For euer [ȝ]oure clerkis has sere opiniouns,
Discordand euer, and haldand nane vnyouns:
Bot laute has na contradictionis neuer—
Nane suth saw fra vther may disseuer,
Na lawte with ane vther may discorde;
All suthfastnes haldis euer in ane accorde,
And all discordance ar euer opynnables,
And all contrar opiniounis debatables.
Quhare mony haldis opiniouns all contrare,
It may neuer be bot money lesingis ar;
Off tua contrareis, ane man haue þe wite—
Thus may nocht all ȝoure science be perfite.

“We haue na playis, bot ay gude romanis redis,
Off oure foirbearis, and of thare worthy dedis;
To behald the hevin it is oure hie plesance,

The sternis, planettis, and thare ordinance,
And of the hevin, that is baith licht and bricht,
Thinkand that we sall anys cum to that sicht,
And how the grete God all the hevinnes steris,
And grew all thing in erde that here is.
We tak plesance of all thingis þat growis in wod,
Baith frute and beist, and fische into þe flude—
To thir plesance þare followis na chessoun,
For in this plesance is no thing bot ressoun.

“Now think on þis, hie mychty emprioure:
God has the sett in sege of grete honoure;
Thow has conquest grete lordschip and grete landis,
And all this warld obeyand to thai handis—
Quhat sall ȝow mare haue quhan þow sall part fra thyne
Na the leist boy of seruandis þat is thyne?
Bot all the roust, þe rankoure of þe syn
Sall cleve with the quhen saull and liffe sall twyn;
Off all this warld bot sevin fute sall þow haue—
To fremyit siris þow sall leif all þe laif.
Quhat wailȝeis þine honoure and thai glore,
Na all the walth that thow has had before,
Th[ai] conquest landis with iniquite,
Quhil[k] þow watt wele may nocht remane with the?
Thow forfettis lele man of þare heretage,
Off ather mennis guidis þow payis þi seruandis waig[e];
But ony caus, mony gude man hes slane,
Quhilkis þow may neuer bring to þe live agane;
Thow makis discorde amange þir regiouns all—
Bot haue in mynd quhat eftir þis man fall:
Thow watt thow art coruptable and mortall,
And may nocht here haue live perpetuall—
Quhat witt is than to man mortall as þe
To wyn to-nicht, wittand the morne to de,
And neuer to cum agane into þis land,
And wate sic charge þarefter is followand.
It may be erar callit rage and furioure
Off man, but knawlege of his Creature.

“Thow callis the son to God into þi writt—

How may it be þat þow has sic a witt,
To wirk the contrare of þi faderis will,
For all men watte þat God biddis do nane ill?
Thow callis the king of kingis and lordis all—
Sa grete ane pride may neuer end but ane fall.
Quhy sould þow lorde of all this erde call the?
The King of Hevin ordand nocht sua sould be.
Thow watt na lordschip nor na governance
May stand nor lest here but His ordinance—
It cummys bot of ane fulich pridy tocht,
To-nycht callit a lorde, to-morne les na nocht;
For wer na nocht he may be callit treuly,
Syne all the plicht apoun his saull mon lay.

“Ȝe mak writtis, and preichtis richtwis lawis,
Bot ȝoure dede followis nocht efter ȝoure sawis.
Ȝe [call him] wise that can discretly spek,
And to wyn warldis gude can wele him streik,
Bot we call thame mare wise that spekis les,
And liffis him wele, and coimptis na riches,
For quhat maist riches has in maiestie,
His chalmer boy spendis als mekill gude as he.
Than has he here nocht ellis bot the name,
And all the charge he baris, baith syn and schame.
We mervell how ȝe may thame wise men call,
Quhan but proffitt the end is folly all.
Ȝe mak ȝoure gravis and ȝoure sepulturis,
Sa crovyn craftely with grete honouris,
And to the tempill of God ȝe tak small tent,
Quhilk soundis nocht to richtwis iugment.
Ȝhe honoure werkis [þat] ȝoure handis mais,
And to God immortale tent nocht tais:
Bot God is mare honoritt with richtwis dedis,
For gudely wertew gudly saulis fedis.
The God immortale saul of all this warld is,
And all gouernis, all in His vertew standis,
And luvis na saul bot it be clere and clene,
Quhilk in vertew fra wikkit dede hes bene.
Ȝe traist that all the planetis goddis ar,
And all the spretis that fleis in the are,
Thir angellis als þat servis God Almycht:

Ȝe sould consedder ȝoure treuth is na thing richt,
For mannis saul hes mony officeris,
Sum smellis, sum gustis, sum twichis, seis, or heris;
Sum ar in memberis als of þe body,
Off quhilk the saul is maister halely.
Sa ar þir goddis þat ȝe se all in trowis
Wnder grete God, and at his bidding bowis—
Sic as ȝoure goddis ar, sic sal ȝe be,
The quhilk ar made of metall and of tre.
And vther sum ar feyndis fel and fre,
Quhilkis fell into the fall of Lucifer;
And all ȝoure delitis and besynes
Is all for warldis honoure and riches,
And for deliciousnes of ȝoure body,
Quhilk birnand is in ȝow contenualy:
All lust that ony man has mete apoun,
Quhan it is past þe thrott, the lust is gone,
And sindry lustis ar to sindry mettis,
The quhilkis ar gone quhan thai ar past the ȝettis.
And ȝitt ar mannis lustis all vns[l]okabill,
In riches and in metis variable,
Richt as the Hel that neuer will be content,
Þocht all the saulis in erde tharein war stent.
Quharefore we hald ȝoure livis bot wikketnes,
And all ȝoure saulis out of þe state of grace.”

Than Alexander, quahn he this pistill had sene,
He wex sa wraith, almaist he birst for tene—
He was dispisit and his goddis baith,
Na mervell was suppois he waix in wraith.
And till him hes ane vther pistill send,
As efterwart I sall ȝow here ostend:
“King Alexander, the king of kingis with croun,
The son to Quene Olympias and god Aymon,
To the King of Bragmanaris, Dyndymyn,
Greting, with salutatioun angevyn:
Giff all be soith the wordis that ȝe wreitt,
Ȝe wyn into þis warld richt grete merite,
For ȝe do na thing to ȝoure God displeis,
Na rekis nocht of ȝoure lustis na ȝoure eis,
And all in contrare of ȝoure appetite,

Ȝe do vertew, to wyn saul merite.
Thus war it like that ȝe mare goddis war
Na in nature of man, be mekill mare,
Quhilk in this erde in body incarnate
Is seildin sene, as all wise clerkis writte.
Ȝe call ws synneris, and synnys do ȝe nane,
Quhilk neuer was sene in man of blude and beane;
For mannis worde him-selff nocht iustefice—
His knawlege into Goddis iustice lyis.
Quhat gudis ws oure commendatioun?
Oure worde may nocht be approbatioun.
Ȝe call it leiffull to laubore, teill, and saw,
Bot ȝe will nocht amange ȝow kepe sic law,
Bot quhat that nature gevis, ȝe tak in gre,
Baith fleche and fische and frute of herbe and tre,
Quhilk war mare like þat it war beistlynes,
Or falt of craft, or eke for lichernes,
For wrechitnes, or imbesilite,
Or singularis, nocht like till vtheris be,
Invy, wanwitt, or falt of pollicy.
Or fenȝett gudnes for ypocrasy,
For God made nocht in erde sa nobill thingis
As wise men vsis in þare governynngis,
Bot for mankynd to life on and laboure;
For quhan He maid first mannis creature,
He made him lord of allkyn leving thing
Vnder the Hevin, till vse for his liffing,
And for mankynd all thing ordand He,
Baith beist and foule and fische into the se,
Baith frute and herbe and wther creature,
And ordanit him to liff on his laboure,
And ordanit him to honoure and to glore,
To wyn the sege that Adam tynt before,
And gaif þe erde till men in heretage,
And held the Hevin till him and his parrage;
And trest wele that men may haue gold and gere,
And ete gud metis, and worthy clathes were,
And bettir men be in þare conscience
Na men that fenȝeis all thare defference,
For vnder gold may mekare conscience be

Na vnder the lawest clething of degre—
And richt sua may it of gude mettis be,
And vther letturus thing of nobilete.

“Als, quhan, ȝe speke of ȝoure humilete,
That all ȝoure folk standis in equite,
Ȝe suld witt þat in Hevin ar diuers greis,
As in this warld amange kingis men seis;
For king takis nocht here domynatioun
Na governance, bot fra the hiest croun,
For in-till Hevin is ordouris he and law,
As be the ordouris of angelis here we knaw.
In that ȝe call vertwis chaistete,
It war mare like to bestialetie,
Quhilkis bot anys in the ȝere has appetite—
Quhan that is done, þai haue no more delite:
Thus cummys it nocht of gudlie propir will,
Bot for thare appetite is nocht tharein-till,
Quhilk chaisti[t]e is na thing meritabill.

“Nor ȝitt ȝoure meiknes is nocht vertuabill,
And, als langand ȝoure commynyte,
That is propir kynd of bestialetie,
Quhare dog and man and lad is all elike,
Baith king and knaif—now fy on þat kinrike!
And quhare [ȝe] say ȝe haue na scolis of lare,
That is the werst taknynny[n]g I hard of are,
For thare is na grace þare like till appere,
Quha can na gude, na na gude hes to lere.
And quhare ȝe say ȝow nedis na iustice,
Na na mercy for everie mannys vice,
For ȝe ar all of gude conditioun—
Bot it is clerly agane all ressoun,
For all the signeȝ and planetis of þe hevin,
The quhilkis in novmber ar first [twelve] and [sevin],
And ever-ilkane of sindrie properteis,
And als of diuers naturis, as men seis,
And throw þare diuers constellationis
Makis men of diuers inclinationis:
Thus in na wise be nature neuer may be
That diuers men sould liff in vnyte—

Thus is like ane [secrete wikkettnes]
Oure-[s]ilit with ane [fenzete gudlynes].”

[Q]uhen Dyndymon, of Bragmanare King,
Hard Alexander had made sic ansuering,
Ane vther pistill sone to him gart wrette,
In this maner, as eftir I sall ȝow dyte:
“The King of Bragmanaris, Dyndamon,
Till Alexander, the sone of god Aymon;
He empreoure, tak hede now to my lare:
We ar nocht borne to live here euermare,
Bot richt as pilgrymis, we are bot gistis here,
To wyn the land was he[ich]t oure faderis dere;
Nocht for to walk in riote na in feistis,
With menstrasy, with romanis, na with gestis,
Bot liff in plesance till oure Creature,
And do Him seruice, wourschip, and honoure.
God made here diuers kynd of men,
As ȝe haue sene sen ȝoure conquest begane,
Off sindry natiouns, liffis on sindry lay,
And euerie land is content with thare fay,
And has thare maneris and thare governance
Distinct fra vtheris, and thare ordinance—
Sum ar heremytis, sum ar religious,
And in þis maner best complesis ws:
Kepe wele ȝoure obseruance, we sall kepe ouris,
And we sall pray to God for ȝoure honouris.

“We like this lyffe attoure vther liffing,
And in sic maner to mak oure ending;
We can nocht cleith ws with na pretius clethis,
Na till anorne þat is bot mete for mathis—
To rottin fleche we gif wrechit clething,
And als sic fude as ganys for sic thing [OMITTED]
We bettir nocht for claithis of wrechitnes,
For claithis of gold makis na saluatioun,
Na claithis of poverte puttis na merit doun.
We gane apoun þe gold ever-ilk day,
And stampis on it, and tredis in þe way,
Bot it will nowther stanche hungir na thirst,
Quhill we cum to the rynnand wattir first;

We aete it mare na vther metall by,
For it is caus of averice and invy,
And als it garris the warld be all in were,
For ȝe lufe nane bot him þat has maist gere;
We held it vnder fute as our seruand,
And prayeis it les þan owther erde or sand—
We kepe nocht of ȝoure wardly gouernale,
Bot takis ws till oure liffing naturale.”

Off Alexander epistill to the King Bragmanaris

Quhen Alexander þis pistill had oure-red,
Ane vther sone to writt agane he bad:
“King Alexander, the king of kingis with croun,
The sone of Quene Olympias and god Aymon,
To the King Bragmanaris, Dyndymyne:
Ȝe haue ws send ane new pistill sen-syne,
Sayand ȝe pleis best ȝoure awne governance,
And kepis nocht of nane vther obseruance,
Na ȝow list nocht in maneris na clething
Conforme to the law, in nakin thing,
Na haue na craftis na mak na pollicy,
Bot evir as beistis levand naturalie.
Thare may na man cum to ȝow for straitnes,
Na ȝe bid nocht to cum in vther place;
The warld was made for intercomonying,
Bot of sic governance ȝe bid no thing—
Ȝe watte na thing bot that nature ȝow giffis.
And þus as beistis naturally ȝow liffis—
And to nature thare followis na merite,
And but merite the ioy of Hevin gais quhyte;
And all this makis ȝoure presumptuous ignorance,
Quhilkis ar nocht but invy and arrogance,
For pride is ay with singularetie,
Wenand that nane may fallois to ȝow be.

“This is a fals erroure þat ȝe liff in—
Ȝe ask na mercy, for ȝe do na syn—
For sen Adam was ȝitt neuer man synles,
Quhilk may neuer be but mercy and but grace:
Thus ar ȝe blindit throw ȝoure ignorance,
That ȝe knaw nocht the wayis of governance.

Ane vther way ȝe ar sa obstinate
That ȝe bid nocht of mare witt na ȝe wate,
Quhilkis [makis] ȝoure hartis sa hard þat ȝe na may
Leif ȝoure myrknes to cum to licht of day;
And ȝitt wele mare ȝe ar presomptuous,
And wenys, for ȝe can leif purele þus,
Into ȝoure heremytage as ypocritis,
And as ȝo[w] wene, ȝoure pistillis till ws writis,
Ȝe think that God sould do as ȝe presume,
And wenys þat ȝe þe well ar of wisdome—
Bot traistis wele, ȝoure wenying ȝow dissavis,
Wenand that ȝe ar wissare na all the lave is,
Quhilk hes studyit in science of clergyis,
In storeis, cornykill, and in prophecyis,
Off Adam, oure ald fader, and his ofspring,
Quhilkis had þe warld sensyne in governying.
Thus hald ȝe ȝow as ȝe war presoneris,
Inclosit straitlie in-to þis ile þat here is,
As ankir-sadalis for intercommonying
Off thame that has the warld in governying,
And has nocht bot ane ische and ane porte,
Quhan that ȝow likis to tak ȝoure disporte;
And hydis of gold sa grete ane quantetie,
Off quhilkis alhale þis warld [micht] richer be,
Till honouris tempill, palacis, and wther thingis,
Quhilkis ordand ar for princis and for kingis;
And thinkis ȝow be ȝoure-selff A perse,
And na bot ȝe luffit with God sould be.

“Tharefore, to mak memor perpetuall
That I, Alexander, hes bene here my-sel[l]
In propir persoun, I sall clois ȝoure porte,
That fra thynefurth ȝe sall neuer haue na comforte,
Na intercommonying, na ȝitt langage,
Bot liffe as ankirsadill in ȝoure heremytage.”
This closit he þare portis with pillaris nyne,
Quhilkis neuer mare war opynnyt sen-syne,
Made of a mater callit absynticon,
That fyre na metall may neuer byte þareon;
Quhilkis Prester Iohne sensyne convertit has,
Throw myrakillis of the appostile Sanct Thomas.

100

How Alexander past foirthirmare in Ynde

Than Alexander desirit forthermare
Off mervell of the Grete Ynd to se ȝitt mare;
Quhill he enterit into ane fare cuntre,
Quhilk in thare langage is callit ‘Terr[e] de Dee’,
That in oure langage ‘Landis of Goddis’ we call,
Quhilk was in gold and riches groundit all,
With castellis, pallacis, and tempelis at devise.—
Thare Alexander schupe to mak sacrefice.
And Porrus ay past with him curtesly,
Quhilk gracius was, and all his cumpaney.
The land was full of gold and riches,
With walth of frute and victuall in all place;
And held ay with him wylde men and savage,
For thai had of þe cuntre best knawlege,
And als in mony cuntreis of þat land
In wildernes þare was sic men duelland.

Sa com thai till ane land in wildernes,
Quhilk was gude ground, bot na bigging þare was;
The folk war nakit, had nocht on bot ane smoke
To helde thare nature, and sum had a licht cloke—
It was sa hete thai mycht na claithis were;
Bot thai had gold ynewch, and vther gere.
Thay war wele-farand men, and fare of vice,
Wele vnderstandand, wele spokin, and richt wise,
And governit thame by iustice and ressoun;
Bot thai had nowtherane castell, toure, na toun,
Na hous, na mencioun, bot cavis in erde,
Bot wele þai fure, and out of thame nocht sterde.
The gold grew in þe rochis nere thame by;
Off flesche and frute þai had haboundantly,
And bred and wyne in warld na bettir war—
It war ane paradise for to duell thare,
War nocht the hete þat thare sa birnand is,
With dragounis venemous, and wyld beistis.

Than Alexander ane pistill send thame þus,
In fare langage and wordis sententius,
Sayand, “Swete pepill, sin ȝe haue sic renoun
That ȝe governe by iustice and ressoun,
And that ȝe ar baith wise and wourthy men,

101

Wisdome to lere, and wtheris for to ken,
We vald fane knaw ȝoure conversatioun,
And to do ȝow all consolatioun
That in oure power gudlie was to do,
Giff it ȝow plesis for to cum ws to,
And gif ȝow list, we cum and vesy sall
Ȝoure land, ȝoure leving, and ȝoure generale.”

This pistill hard þare prince, callit Oxidras,
Quhilk of fare langage, wise, and wourthy was,
Quhilk wrett agane vounder debonarely
Sic ane ansure as to ȝow coimpt sall I:
“Till Alexander, þe king of kingis with croun,
Quhilk oure þis warld has wourschip and renovn:
We mak to ȝow instance for ȝoure wourthynes,
Ȝe wald conseder and knaw oure symplines,
That has nocht here bot barely oure liffing,
Na has na hous na herbry for a king;
Bot we haue gold ynewch in grete plentie,
With stanis of vertew, þe wourthyest may be,
Quhilk is alhale at ȝoure commandement,
But any sovme bot at ȝoure awne entent;
Sic obseruance with that as we can ma,
We and oure folk is at ȝoure will alsua.”
Quha was mare plesit þan na was the king,
That thai had made sa gratius ansuering,
And gaif grete giftis to thare messingeris,
And wrette ane pistill agane in þis maner:

“Alexander, king of kingis with croun,
The sone of Quene Olympias and god Aymon,
Till Oxidras, ane wourthy prince and wise:
Traist nocht þat we [d]esire for averice,
Na covatis nocht for ȝoure gold na ȝoure gere,
Na to molest ȝow, na to mak ȝow were,
Bot erare for to do ȝow gude na ill:
We vald ȝe com till ws, or we ȝow till,
Bot, sen it plesis ȝow it be nocht sua,
We pray ȝow writt ws ȝoure will or ȝe ga,
And quhat ȝe pleis to haue of ws, treuly,
We sall ȝow gif and send ȝow hartfuly,
With Goddis pece, fryndschip, and gudlynes,

102

And till all men þat ȝow in frendschip has.”
And send to him þis pistill with gude chere,
And he ane vther send him in þis maner:

“Prince Oxidras, as writtin is before,
Till Alexander wourschip, honoure, and glore;
Be ȝoure pisting and be ȝoure proferring,
It semys wele ȝe be ane wourthy king.
We thank ȝow mekill of ȝoure gudlynes,
That we may serue to be sua in ȝore grace,
Ws to reward with gold and grete honoure,
Quhilk cummys ȝow as wourthy emprioure.
God ȝeild ȝow ȝoure gud will and behest,
And ȝe sall haue oure prayer, be þe leist;
And sen of gold na myster here haue we,
For we haue mare na is necessite—
Bot of a thing we wald ȝow pray and pris,
Giff that ȝe mycht or couth in ony wise,
To grant ws grece that we war immortale,
Sa that oure liffe war here perpetuall,
For we can nevir in ioy nor blythnes be,
Sen þat we sikkar ar that we mon de;
Na gold na riches gaddir bid we nocht,
Na land na lordschip, for all that we call nocht
Quhen we watt nocht quhat houre we ga to bere.
Quhat proffeittis þan þe gud þat we leif here,
Bot beris with ws the wark and wrangous wyn,
For commounly cumynys na conquest bot syn,
And syn ws puttis out of the state of grace—
Than we ar war na he that euermare was,
And tynes þe gude, the ioy, and the honoure,
And forfettis frendschip of oure Creature.”

Than Alexander, movit of grete pite,
Ane vther pistill to him sendis he,
Sayand, “I traist wele þat ȝe vnderstand,
Suppois I be ane conquerioure of land,
And all this erde giffis me soueranyte,
Nocht þan I am ane mortale man as ȝe;
Thus, sen my-selff I am nocht immortale,
How sould I mak ane vther perpetuall?
For God immortale gevis immortalete,

103

Na nane may mak perpetuale liffe bot He.”
Quhen thai had hard his gudly ansuering,
Thay said þi trowit for he was souerane king,
And for the sone of God als he him bare,
That he gar men liffe for euermare.
Thus partit þai and Alexander the king,
And he commendit mekill thare gud leving.

Syne passit thai in a land callit Arthera,
Quhilk weround was about with woddis sua
That on all partis þe entre was sa strate,
And als þe oist was all-wayis at the wate
For wikkit beistis, for wodwiȝ, and for weddir,
For þare was mony ane felloun dragoun and eddir,
And in that forest mony wodwiȝ was,
Had [sevintene] fute and mare of mekilnes,
And in thare handis ilkane a grete sapplyne;
Thay war giantis, bot þai had nane armyne,
Bot thai war cled in skynnys of cokkadrelis,
The quhilk war armet oure with balan schellis—
Thare was na wappin of na man of were,
Na swerde na lance, mycht do thame ony dere.
Thay slew richt wounder mony of Porrus men
Betwne tua craggis in ane hidduous glen;
Thare was na man mycht stand agane þare strake,
For ilkane bare any sapplyne of ane ake.—
Thai chaissit agane mony of thare foirridaris.

Than Alexander, quhan he hard, nocht him sparis,
Bot tuke with him all instrumentis of soundis,
The quhilk betuix the craggis sa reboundis
Thay semyt ma na þi war woinit sic sevin.—
The sound of thame redoundit to þe hevin.
With þat in-to þe oist þai gaif ane schout,
And he quhilk was hardy, manfull, and stout,
Tuke with him hors-men of the worthiest,
And of the formest þat þare men has chaist.
Thay cum in sidlingis on þame at ane side,
And to þi wodwiȝ wrocht thai woundis wide;
Quhen thai thare feris þus saw ly bledand,
Thay fled in haist, and mycht no langer stand,
And in þe flicht þare was sa mony slane

104

That few of thame past to the wod agane.
And sum was tane and brocht was to the king—
The oist made on thame sic ane woundering,
Thai war sa rouch and hidduous of to se;
Thai duelt into ane ile within þe see,
And come thare bot to hount at venesoun;
Thay had na hous bot cavis to þare mansioun.
Thai tuke grete hede to wemen þat was þare,
For in the ost was mony wounder fare.

Than Alexander gart tak ane fare woman,
Betaucht hir in burding till ane wodman;
With that he smylit, and his hart wox warm,
And kest hir vp in the bucht of his arme,
And he to ga with all his [mane] and mycht,
And fra thame all to wod he tuke þe flicht—
Thare was na hors in land mycht oure-hy.
With that the woman schouttit with a cry—
Than Alexander in hart was na thing fane,
And ȝhardit Bussiffall with all his mane,
And him ouretuke, and hett him on the hewit.
Quhill in his harnepan þe spere-had he levit.
With that he gaif ane roust, and doun he fell,
That all the ost on fer mycht here þe ȝell.
Thus savit he þe fare woman fra dede,
And brocht hir sone agane into that stede.

Syne enterit thai agane a nobill cuntre,
Quhare nocht but force and farenes þai mycht see,
Quhare all the kyndis of frotis of Paradise
Was in that cuntre growand at devise.
Thai lichtit thare and stentit thare pavillionis—
Thai had na dout of liouns na dragouns.
The land was veround all with rochis hie,
And within like a paradise mycht men se;
The frute thai fand was liffing gude ynouch,
With all kyn birdis singand on the be[u]ch.
The king vsit to rise in þe mornying,
To take the are and here þe foulis sing:
Sa he persauit ane tre was burgeand—
In the mornying it had na lafe berand,
And ȝitt or none þe frute was ripe at all,

105

And ȝitt or evin the levis begouth to fall;
The samyne frute that was ripe and fare at none,
At sone-gane-doun was widderit and vndone.
In that garding mony sic was growand,
With fare birdis suetlie on thame singand;
Bot quhan ony plukkit frute of þat tre,
Thai schote out flauchtis of fyre, and gart thame de;
And also, quhat man of þat frute wauld ete,
He deit furthwith, and ete never efter mete.
Biside the roche, þe flude of Phion ran—
The tothir syde þe land was of Bragman,
The quhilk strekit nere Paradise Terrestre;
The tother end, quhare þai had bene, was westre.

Syne come thay to the Monte of Adamant,
Quhare thare grew mony a riche dyamant.
In frontale of þe crag þare was ane stare,
The quhilk of hicht was half a mylle, or mare,
And enterit at ane porte, was cristallyne,
The steppis of dyamentis and sauphir syne.
Off steppis thare was five thousand an[d] five hund[er]
Vp to the hicht quhare fra thai enterit vnder;
The steppis war richt large, þe stare war wide,
Five faldome wele, or mare, fra side to side.
The crag was stay, bot fra the nothir ȝate
Ane goldin chenȝie gydit thame all the gate,
Was grete and lang, and stolpit all the way
Quhare he sould gane, and quhare his gatis lay.

Than Alexander tuke with him princis ten,
And left Porrus þare doun to kepe the men:
Thare was the goddis in þare mansioun
Apoun that mont, quham with he tocht to rovn;
Bot or he wauld begyn to tak the grece,
He made his prayeris and his sacrefice.
Quhen he had made his prayaris, vp he steppit,
And euer the chenȝe in his handis kepit,
Quhill he come to the hicht of the montaingȝe;
He fand a porte, and thare endit þe chenȝe,
And in he enterit with his princis thus:
He fand ane pallice plesand and pretius,

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Quhilk was all made of gold and siluer clere
And pretius stanis, was nane in warld þare pere,
The quhilk was callit þe Hous of Son and Mone,
Oure-frett with gold and pretius stanis abone;
Ane pretius tempill on the ta side was,
Was to behald pereles of pretiousnes—
Thare was nocht ellis bot gold and pretius stanis.
And Alexander with his men in it gane is,
And made his prayaris to his goddis all,
That fare fortoun and antre suld him fall.

And syne in-till ane fare hall entr[it] he,
The quhilk was nowther of querrell-stane nor tre,
Bot all was wrocht of pretious stanis of gold,
And all durris oppnyt to entre quha-sa wald.
Syne in ane chalmer of grete solempnite,
Quhare na bedding bot claithis of gold saw he,
Quhare in ane grete bed he saw liand thare
Ane fare auld man, was quhite all grovin of hare.
That bed for to devise, passis my witt—
Was nocht bot gold and pretius stanis in it,
Devisit in sa statelike ane manere;
Baith he and law was all of gold so clere,
The legis all of saphir and tophas;
On everie tor ane grete charbunkill was,
And all the pillaris of chalmer, tempill, and hall,
Ane grete charbunkill on ilkane of thame all.
The covering was in sic a maner wrocht
That all of claith, na but claith was it nocht—
Ane claith of gold was grund and foundment,
Ourefrett with pretius perry of the Orient,

The wourth man lay nocht in nakkit bed,
Bot on þe coverture he lay all cled,
In claith of gold arrayit sa richely,
He semyt ane god as he lay propirly;
He was richt fare of face, baith blyth and hale,
Bot him list nocht to stere na mak travell.
His mete was myr, aloes, and incens—
He semyt to be ane man of excellance—
His drink was balme and gold potabille,
Richt blayith and ioyus in his hart was abill;

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He was richt mekill, and of ane grete stature,
Was neuer nane farare formit of nature.
His clething was sa pretius quhare he lyis,
That mannis witt mycht nocht the tend devise,
For thare was [nocht] in chalmer, tempill, na hall
Sa litill ane stane, bot stanis of vertew all,
The quhilkis war nedefull, spedfull, and chors
For sum proffit langand to mannys cors.
Quhilk quhan the king and his men lukit on,
Thay wenyt þat it had bene god Aymon,
And fell on kneis, and wourschip till him made,
As thai wald in the tempill to þe godhede.

Than said that lorde, “Alexander, þow art velcum—
Or ȝow was borne, thy name heirin was [nummyn],
For be the goddis þus ordand it was,
That thow sould cum here and vese þis place,
And tak thyne ansure of þi destanye,
How þow sould end, and quhat dede þow sall de,
And se the haly Treis of Son and Mone,
Quhilk neuer man sall se fra ȝow haue done;
And pas furth in þat garding þat þow seis,
Quhare þow sall fynd diuers maneris of treis—
Bot enter nocht, na na man þat is with the,
Bot ȝe witt first of syn clene ȝe be.
Thow sall fynd thare þe Treis of Son and Mone,
The quhilkis has power be þe goddis abone
To ansure the of quhat thing þow sall spere,
And soithfastlie sall tell the all the maner
Off thyne ending, and quhat dede þow sall de—
Disples the nocht, for it behuffis to be.
Ane mekill dry tre als þow sall fynd þare,
Quhilk never sen Adam synnyt burgioun bare,
Na neuer sall bare quhill ane madyn bare ane childe
But mannis seid, and nocht of fame be fylde.
Ane fenix ȝow sal se sittand tharevpoun,
Off quhilkis þare sal neuer be bot one,
Quhilk, quhan scho is [five hundreth] ȝere of auld,
Scho passis to ane hill on þe feild,
And gadderis mony branchis, sommyr dry,
And with hir wyngis fannys contenualie,

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Quhill throw the hete of þe son and hir fannying
Scho garris the stikkis kendill in birnying,
And birnys hir-selff in powder and in as,
The quhilkis lyis still all ȝere into þat place,
Quhill, throw the dew of hevin and sonnys hete,
That as agane sall liffe and quykknying gett,
And birdowis þare, with hete of son, and rane;
Quhen scho is growin, cummyis to þe tre agane,
And levis here vnto þe samyne eild,
Syne in þe samyn wise gais to þe feild.

“Syne efter sall ȝow fynd þe pillicane,
Apoun hir nest in ane grete tre hir allane,
Off quhilk the birdis euermare ar dede borne;
And quhen scho seys þat thai the liffe has [l]orne,
Scho is sa wa þat nere of witt scho wedis,
And slais hir-selff, and with hir blude þame fedis—
For with hir beik scho strykis hir to the hart,
Quhill all hir blude into nest out stert;
Syne in hir blude hir birdis all þame baithis,
Quhilk quykkynnis þame, and liffe into þame grathis,
Syne sall ȝow find all fruitis at devise,
Off all kyndis of frute of Paradise,
Saiffand the Tre of Witt of Gud and Ill,
Quhilk man to se it is nocht Goddis will.”

Than Alexander was blayth of þat tything,
That he sould haue knawlege of his ending,
And schup him and his lordis for to pas
In-to þat garding, and to vesie þat plais.
Tha[n] sais the auld man, “Alexander, latt be—
Ȝe man leif all ȝoure proude gere here with me,
Ȝoure hois, ȝoure schone, ȝoure collaris, and ȝoure ringis,
Ȝoure crovne of gold, and vther pridfull thingis,
Bot in ȝoure lynning claithis, all bare fute,
Or ellis in ȝoure ganging þare is na bute.
This place was ordand for the goddis to be,
And this cuntre is callit Terre [de] Dee;
And all this pallice has hallowit specially
For thare mansioun, of quhilk kepar am I.
[N]ow fallow,” than sais þe wourthy man,

109

And all þus he þe first entre begane.

The paleis was richt large and spatius,
And eik þe garding fare and gratius;
Sidlingis þe palis by the tempill was
Ane treilȝeit vergiere, was a ferly place—
Off gold was all the veingȝe trie and treilȝeis,
And precious stanis þe rasingis and þe foulȝeis;
The precious gold grew on þe samyne treis,
Sa did the precious stanis þat men seis.
Thai rasingis gaif aurum potabile,
And burgeonand and euermare ripe to be,
The quhilk he drank as we do here þe wyne.
The haly balme was eftir growand fyne,
Syne grew the myrr, þe aloes, and þe cens—
That garding past all vther of excellence.
Syne was thare vthir treis growand nere,
Was like þe olive treis and the laurere,
Syne all spicis that mennis witt couth devise
Was in that garding growand in best wise;
And als into that garding þai micht fynd
All frute þat gannand sould be for mankynde,

Syne was thare wallit in a litill abone
The Dry Tre, and þe Treis of Son and Mone;
And all the wallis þat about þame was,
Was rubyis, diamentis, emerauldis, and tophas,
With charbonkell, onix, and crissolites,
And vther pretius stanis of riches—
Thay war sa clere þat all men throw þame seis,
That throw the wall men mycht persaue þe treis;
Ane hundreth cubeitis was þe wall on hicht,
Quhilk fra men stoppit nowthir sicht nor lycht.
The wertew of þat garding þat is þare,
Quhay-euer duellis in it, deis neuer mare.
About þe grete paleis þare was ane low,
Quhare all maner of foulis swam and row,
Quhilk was sa dipe þat na man mycht ourpas;
And syne þe crag sa strate and schore doun was
That nane mycht entir bot quhare þe grece attengȝeis,
Quhare na man mycht ascend bot with þe chengȝeis.

110

How Alexander enterit in þe garding off þe Treis of Son and Mone

The pallais was of lenth and brede ane myle,
All closit in roche and rivere, as ane yle.
Than Alexander beheld the pillegane,
And syne vnto þe Dry Tre is he gane,
Quhare þat fenix satt, with fetherane fare—
In all þis warld he wend nocht sic ane ware:
Scho was of bodie grete as ane ostrike,
Hir fetherame mekill was till ane pacok like—
Becaus thare was na levis nor nane bewis,
He mycht wele se hir fetherame and hir hewis—
Scho had ane craist apoun hir hede richt hie,
As fetheryn busche or basnett suld be,
Hir tale, hir hals, as gold sterynit and asure;
Micht nane discr[i]ve hir richt native culloure,
For as he past about to se hir hewis,
The sonnys beme his diuers culloure sewis,
For mycht a man þis [sevin] ȝere þairin be,
He wauld neuer irk hir bewteis for to se.

Than said þe garde till Alexander, “Now ga,
And spere quhat þe list at ȝoure treis tua;”
And than he past to the Trie of þe Son,
And sperit giff he suld cum in Massedone—
He gart his princis bide in þe garding
Quhill he had done, and eft cum till him syne—
And syne ane wther questioun he sperd,
Giff he suld be lord of all þis erde.
The first tre ansurid, as I herd recorde,
“Off all this erde þow salbe anys lorde,
And syne þow sall cum into Babillone,
Bot þow sall neuer cum into Massedone.”
(The langage that it spak was into Grewe,
For Alexander ay þat langage best knewe).
And efter he spered syne at the tother tre
How lang he suld liff, and quhat dede he sould de;
Bot he sperit nocht with woce spekand þame till,
Bot tocht in-till his mynde quhat war his will.

The tother tre ansured richt sobirlie,
Sayand, “Þi dede sall cum richt soiddantly,

111

Bot þow may nocht, be na maner of thing,
Haue wittering of þe day of þi ending;
Bot as to witt þe dede þat þow sall de,
Thow salbe poysound with þine awne menȝie,
And for to do þat horrabill wikkit syn,
Sall be a man quhilk þow maist treistis in;
And in thai drink þi poison he sall giff,
And efter þat þow sall nocht lang tyme liff.”

“Quha sall that do?” þan Alexander speris.
“That is na ressoun”, said he, “þat þow requeris,
For and I tald the, þow wald him fordo—
Than suld be fals þat I haue said the to,
The quhilk on na wyis God will thole to be;
It may suffice þat I haue said to the:
Thow sall neuer de on wappyn na in battalȝie,
Na sall neuer thing þe maister þat þe assailȝeis,
Nowther fire n[a] wattir, fische, na foull, na man,
Na nevir did s[e]n first þe were began:
Sa did the goddis quhan first þow at þame sperit,
And of þi fortoun first at thame requirit.”
Than Alexander wald fane haue sperit mare,
Bot he wald nocht him thole na langare þare,
And bad him pas his way, þe hour was gane,
And vther wittering of þame suld he haue nane.
Than come he to þe princis quhare þi stude;
He was richt movit and maid in-till his m[ude],
He was agast, and spak to þame na thing,
Quhareof þai had richt grete discomforting—
Richt grete murnying into þare mynd þai maid,
And furth þai past withoutin mare abaide.
Quhan þai war past, þe chengȝe drawin was,
Na erdlie man sen-syne com in þat place.

Off Alexanderis lamentatioun efter the ansure

Thay trumpit vp, and past ane litill thyne
In-till ane land was callit Palusyne
And in ane ciete callit Parassola,
Quhare worthy chere till all þe ost þai ma,
And restit þame, and wichtly drank þe wyne,

112

And mony wourthy giftis gaif him syne.
The ciete was of pretius stanis dere,
Quhilkis fundin war into þe selff ryver.

That nycht the king fenȝete all countenance,
And preissit him for to mak fare semblance,
Bot in his hart he was na thing apayid,
Sa for dede his nature was affrayid;
And ȝitt for Porrus was he dredand mare,
That he suld nocht persaue him into care,
And before all men he preist to mak gude chere;
Bot him allane he made ane hidduous bere,
Sayand, “Allace, sall I ga to þe dede
Fra all this warld so sone in my ȝoutheid?”
The lordis [e]ft aspyit him, þat him luffit,
And of his dolloure sare þai him repruffit,
And, that he wald nocht tell þame how it stude,
Thai traistit that his ansure was nocht gude.
Bot all þare langage made him [na] remeid,
His hart sa growit for þe dynt of dede,
And mony tymes he drew be him allane,
And havalie murnyt and made his mane,
Sayand, “Now se I wele þis warld is nocht—
Giff I haue honoure, dere I haue it bocht;
Ȝitt haue I nocht fulfillit my conquest,
And I had neuer ane day till end of rest,
Bot quhylum thrist, quhill hunger, and quhill hete,
Richt litill slipe, nocht half my fill of mete,
Quhille dungin wele, with starkis sare wele beft,
Grete tressou[re] wonnying, and litill to me left,
And tynt my frendis, with mony wourthy man,
Ane hundreth thousand sen þis were began.
Quhat proffittis me þis conquest I mak here,
Sen I mon dee, and leiff nane heretere?
The gold I wyn, I spendis all away,
The lordschipis and þe landis lyis quhare þai lay,
And eftir me sall cum new conqueriouris,
And I mon de in ȝouthede in my flouris.
Quhat will my moder say, Olimpias,
Quhilk mony ane thousand tymes will say, “Allace!”?
And als my spous, of Pers the Emprise,

113

The quhilk ane wourthy woman is and a wise;
Quhat will thay say, of Grece and Macedone?
Quha will cum efter me to claim þe croun?
Quhat will my maister Arestotill say?
I was nevir vele sen þat he past away—
Quhill I had him, I had na dred of dede;
He is now sa fer, he may sett na remede.”
With that his lordis come and stude him by,
And blythit him of his malancoly;
Sum of þame said þat thai persauit ane sprete,
And sperit at him gif he was war of it,
In-to the garding quhare he was him-sell,
A mekill blake man, like ane feynd of Hell;
Bot he wald na thing say, bot held him still,
And wauld na thing declare þame of his will.

How Alexander was sary of his ansure, and Porrus was blyith

Than Porrus was richt blyith and richt ioyus
That he saw Alexander anoyit þus,
And saw the doucheperis roukand and roundand,
And tua and tua in counsale ay ganand,
And wist wele he had gottin sum ansuering
Into the garding þat plesit him na thing,
And traistit þat sum mysfortoun sould him fall,
That he agane suld sone be lorde of all;
And till him said, “Fare lorde, I [ȝ]ow require,
Ȝe wald me tall a thing I wald of spere,
Quhat ansure þat þe goddis to ȝow gaif,
And quhat ȝow movis sic dolloure for to haue—
Giff I micht helpe ȝoure dolloure for to meis,
I wald richt fane do thing þat wald ȝow pleis.”

The king ansuerid with fengȝeit countenance,
And of blyithnes preissit him to mak semblance,
Sayand, “Fare schir, I sall ȝow tell treulie—
The goddis hes m[e] ansured vterlie
That of þis warld I salbe lorde and syre,
And all þe warld sall bow to my empire.”
That dowttit Alexander, for his dolloure
Thay suld mystraist þat he had him frayoure,

114

Or sum malice, or sum mysfortonying,
Quhilk gart him mak sic doloure and murnyning;
And als he wist þat Porrus was haldin on force,
And nowther luffit his honoure na his cors,
And all on force he come to his seruice;
And wist all that he sperit was for malice,
And wist wele it was eith to gar him start,
To turne fra him and brek him his forthwart,
And þat he was the mychtiest lorde of land,
Nixt Alexander, þat was þat day liffand,
And that he micht him hender maist, and greve,
And tuke of him ane wounder ill beleve:
He was ȝoung, mychtie, and grete powar had,
And all on force þat he him seruice made;
And tocht nocht gude for to be ay sturtand,
For better is fynger of na ay werkand,
And till him said, “Porrus, me think that ȝe
Into ȝoure hart begynnis to lichtlie me,
And fenȝeis maner of sum collusioun—
Ȝe watt quhan I had ȝow in presoun
Ȝe war full meik and lawlie in ȝoure harte,
And now me ȝe wroth, all vntowart,
And findis occasiouns for to be vnkynde.
Bot cheis ȝow ȝitt quhidder ȝe will bide as freynd
With me, and pas in Ynde in my seruice,
And governe ȝow al-hale at my devise,
Or ȝe will pas agane in ȝoure cuntre,
And tak ȝoure leiff all-vterlie fra me,
And tak ȝoure men with ȝow and do ȝoure best,
And sa na man of myne do ȝow molest
Quhill ȝe be cumyn in ȝoure land agane;
And all ȝoure landis and lordschipis and demayne
I sall gar frelie put into ȝoure handis,
And mak ȝow frely lord of all ȝoure landis,
And gar ȝoure citeis mak ȝow obeysaunce,
And all ȝoure men put in ȝoure gouernance,
And freith þame all þe aith þai sworne to me,
And syne defend, or owderane do or de.
And I sall new begyn ȝow to asselȝie,
And all that is bygane, to be nathing availȝie;

115

And, till vmbeschew þe blude of men schedding,
I sall þe grant to cheis at þai liking
Quhidder þat þow list to semmyll all þi power,
And quha sa wynnys, be lorde for euermare,
Or, quhan ȝoure battall sall arrengit be,
Till hand for hand fecht þe allane with me,
And I sall sett þe croun doun in þe feild—
Giff þow me wynnis, þow sal me euermare weild,
And all my men sall bynd to þe alsua,
For till fulfill the connand þat I ma.”

Than Porrus was sa blayith for to be fred,
For in his harte nane vther way he bad
Bot that he mycht be siker of þat cunnand,
Till haue him in ane barres hand for hand;
And als, becaus þat Alexander he saw
Sa litill of cors, sa docill, and sa law,
For he sa rode a man and mekill was,
He lychleit him for his vnlikelynes.
And Alexander alsa na better bad,
For be the ansure alsa þat þe goddis mad,
Thare suld neuer thing attoure him haue maistry
Quhill of þe warld he had hale seneȝorye.
Thus was the batall bundin and vp-knett,
And sett a day to mete, withoutin lett,
And quhilk of thame þat sould be maister þare
Suld bruke þe croun, and lorde for euermare.

How Porrus tuke his leiff, and purvayit for the batall

Thus Porrus at þe king his leiff has tane,
And all his men agane in Ynde ar gane,
And sett a parliament in his awne cuntre,
And semblit all his lordis and his menȝe,
With all that armes or wappin in hand mycht bere—
S[uld] na man be assenȝete fra þe were;
And, for þai wist þai sould fecht cors for cors,
Thare come sa mony, baith on fute and hors,
He rasit neuer sic ane oist in þat cuntre,
Becaus þai wist þare sould nane fecht bot he.

116

For Alexander sa redoutit was,
Becaus þat he faucht neuer in batall place
That euer he was discomfeist or ouresett,
Thay war fer laither with him till haue mett;
And quhan þai saw þai faucht bot him allane,
Money a man come þat ellis had biddin at hame.

Thus semblit þai in feild on ather hand—
Porrus was ma na five hundreth thousand,
And tocht, mycht he King Alexander haue slane,
Thare sould neuer man of his pas hame agane;
Bot Alexander was luffit for his larges
With Porrus men fer bettir na he was,
For quhan thai past with Alexander in werefere,
He gaif thame all þe gude þat he wan thare,
And held him bot þe honoure and þe glore;
Bot Porrus did nocht sua with thame before—
He was baith covatus, gredy, and fast-haldand,
And gaif na thing bot that he was awand.
The ordinance was maid on ather side,
The batallis [stude] arreyit brade and wide,
Porrus in his arrey was proudly picht,
And semyt wele to be a wourthy knycht:
He was ane square man, and mekill of mak—
In his fessoun na man mycht fynd ane lak—
And mycht Alexander vnder his oxtare bere,
And neuerþeles haue runnyin with ane spere;
To here the pretious trappouris of his hors,
With pretious stanis þat was apoun his cors,
Quhilkis as þai held suld nane discomfeist be
That thame suld bere, in plane or prevate.
And Alexander bot on his awne maner
On Bussiffall, quhilk was him leif and dere,
Ennarmed was, as he was woinit to ride,
And tuke nocht gretelie kepe to Porrus pride.

Thay straik togidder stoutlie in þat stound,
Quhill brokin speris vp-with couth redound,
And as þai brak, þe speris renewit was;
Thare was nane thare bot he astoneist was
To se the straikis þat þai togidder straik—
Into thai tymes þai saw neuer man þe maik,

117

For helme and haubrekis, actoun, spere, and scheild
Wer hewin in pices liand in þe feild.
The king of Bussiffall was strikin doun,
And brokit was baith patrall and arsoun,
And Porrus bay stede vnder him was slane;
And Alexander recoverit first agane,
And gat his swerd, was liand in þe feild,
And saw Porrus had nowther helme na scheild,
Bot all war clovin in pices hingand by,
And als his helme in sum party,
And said till him, “Porrus, þow lichtleit me,
And has mysknawne þe gude I did to þe—
Thow watt thow has bene oft in my danger,
And euer I made þe gude and wourthy chere,
And ay the langer tocht þe better to do:
Had þow nocht made þis forfatoure me to,
I swere þe here, by þe croun of Macedone,
I tocht, and euer I mycht haue conquest Babillone,
For till haue made þe prince and governoure,
And till encres þi wourschip and honoure,
And till haue made þe lord of Ynd Maior and Myn,
And tocht þat neuer man suld oure luffis twyn;
For þow dispisit me for thai mekill cors,
Wenand that thow sould conquest me on force—
Thare sould na man dispise ane litill thing,
For fortoun standis maist in gude governyning.
Thow seis now þat þow art at my will,
And quhat me likis, I may do the till—
Thow art woundit and þow art bledand sare,
Thow has na wappynnis, þow may fecht na mare;
Bot and I mycht sikerlie traist in þe,
For all þe gold of Ynde þow sould nocht de—
Sen I may nocht traist þe, war þow my broder,
I sall the mak exempill till all vther.”

Porrus was woundit, skant mycht he speik a worde,
And to the king he bad his brokin suorde,
Him for to ȝeld, and put him in his grace;
Bot he that sare anoyit and grevit was—
And Porrus oft had made him forfatoure,

118

And mycht na way traist in him his honoure,
For quha-sa brekis lawtve tweis or thryis
Suld neuer be traistit efter in ony wise—
And with the swerd a rout he till him raucht,
With all his mane and power and his maucht,
And hitt him on þe hiest of þe croun,
That nowther his helme, his habreik, nor actoun
Gane-stand him nocht quhill he come to þe papp;
Syne turnit about, and on his hors he lap,
On quhilk the lordis had gart a sadill sett,
And all thing þat to bete was, þai had bett.

Than all the lordis of Iynd for þare honoure
Schupe þame to fecht in batall, for raddoure
Thay had of Alexander and his menȝe;
And quhan þe king saw þame in þis degre
Schape to fecht, he said but mare abaid,
“Lordingis, think on þe hechtis þat ȝe haue made,
For vnlawte makis mekill sturt and strive,
And gart ȝoure lord þat here is tyne his liffe;
Bot and ȝow likis traist þat I ȝow say,
I sall ȝow do mare proffeitt in a day
Na euer [ȝ]e had of Porrus in fyftene,
For I will nocht bot lawte to ȝow mene.
Ȝe se wele how the thing is cummyn and gane—
Now may nocht mend na murnying na na mayn,
Bot we gude frendis, and ilkane helpe wther;
And I sall lufe ilkane of ȝow as my broder,
And all þis gold, þis lordschip, and þir landis
I sall departe and leif amange ȝoure handis.”
And sic langage þe king can to thame gif,
Thay hecht him luffe and lawte quhill þai leiff,
And þare become his men with hale homage,
To hald of him þare landis and þare heretage;
And he amange þame partit all þe gude,
And delt þe landis in þat place quhare he stude,
And made Arestes prince of þat cuntre,
Gart all þe laif obeysand till him be.

And to þe cite of Bautre past thai syne,
And feistit ryall þare, and drank þe wyne.

Thus Alexander of Inde has made conquest,

119

And all þe landis fra est land to þe west.
Than gart he berry Porrus richt honerablie,
And till ane tempill þat was nere-hand by,
And till him made a wourthy sepulture,
And till him did all wourschip and honoure;
And furthwith þare a cite foundit fyne,
Quhil[k] intill Inde was neuer mare mychtie syne,
In-to the selff stede quhare all the batall was,
A nobill, wichty, and ane wourthy place,
Quhilk be his awne name he callit Alexandry,
Off all þat land maist wourthy and maist mychtie.

Than Alexander had [tane] in purposing
To se of Inde al-hale þe mervelling,
And for to se þe bonys of Hercules,
Quhare grete pillaris of metall fundin was,
At þe est end of Inde into the sey,
Quhilkis neuer man vesyit bot he was fey—
For mony it previt had of before,
Quhilk for that caus þare lyvis had all lorne,
For in þare passege or þai come to that se,
Thay mon pas throw þe Perrellus Vale;
And als he tocht to see the thre fontanis,
Quhare mony a man to gett þare heill þare gane is—
Thay stand into the wayis of Parradise,
Quhare growis all þe balmes and þe spice:
The first well helis of all meledyis
The quhilk in mony mannis persoun beis;
The well nixt þat renewis man of eild,
And makis thame of þe ȝoutheid of a cheild;
The thrid well has sic vertew, quha cummys þare,
He deis nevir, bot sall leif euermare.
The Well of Hele out of þe balmis flowis,
For all þe feildis full of balme treis growis;
The Well of ȝoutheid kepit is with a gyn,
That thare may nane but grete wyn cum tharein;
The Wele of Lestand Liffe fra Paradise
Is ay flowand, and kepit with a vice,
That thare is nane þat cummys, of na degrie,
That cummys thairin, bot gif þai synles be.
And syne þe way agane he tocht to ta,

120

To mekill Babillone his gate to ma,
For þat was all þat wantit of his conquest
Off all þis erde, fra þe est sey to þe west.

Than schupe he him to devide his menȝe,
And tuke of þame þat best knew þe cuntre,
And tuke ane ost of Porrus men of Inde,
For þai couth best þe ferly thinkis fynd;
Off wodwiȝ als ane certane of þame he had,
Richt nobill gidis, and mekill seruice made;
And tuke with thame cameleis and dromoderis,
And oliphantis quhilk sommer-castellis beris,
And tursit gunnys, victuall, and garnesoun,
And all thingis that thame nedis of provisioun,
Quhilk dayis fourtie of iourney sould thame lest,
And furth thai past in-till a grete forrest.

The king had ordanit tentis and pallȝouns
Off skynnis of cocadrill and of dragouns,
And vther beistis þat slane war of before,
The quhilkis of thousandis war wourth money a skore,
For sic vertew was in thame, wele he wist,
Sulde nowther greve thame hete, cauld, wappin, na thrist,
Na na malady suld do his cors dere,
Na schote of gyn na straik of sworde or spere,
Na na poysoun mycht be tholit þarein,
Na na tressoun contravit vnder þat skyn.
Thay trumpit vp and passit on þare way,
And vnto þe Pillaris of Hercules þe way—
And all þis wayis drawis to Paradise,
Quhare maist of gold, stanis and riches lyis;
Bot thare cuntre is sa mervellus,
To mannis hele all-out contrarious,
Thare wantis baith of wattir and are
Gude temperance, and—þat is wele mare—
The erde, quhilk is oure principale element,
Is with þe son sa ourehalit and brent
Thare is na corne na gers þare may grow,
Na beist na man þat in þat land may dow,
Bot wylde beistis, dragouns, and oliphantis,

121

With tigres, liouns, and beistis þat na man dantis.

The pillers standis fer out in þe flude—
On ilk pillare ane goldin image stude,
An[e] of þare goddis, ane vther of Hercules,
Ane wther of his fallow Livis was.
Than said ane auld knicht of Porrus menȝe,
Said, “Lord, ȝone pillaris standis fer in þe sey,
And in passage, or men to þame cum,
Thare is ane gret gulfreȝ, þat men behuiffis to swome,
For nowther hors na veschell þare may pas,
To twisch nere þai pillaris of bras,
For þare is gatis maid on sett purpois,
Quhilk round about þe pillaris gais all clois,
In mony cirkillis, as Madin Castell is made,
And craggis betwene, quhilk is baith lang and braid:
Thus all about it is quhill ebe, quhill depe—
Thare is na man þat with it may him kepe,
And mony a man hes bene tynt in þat glak,
Quhilk wist nocht of þe fessoun na þe lak.
Bot Hercules gart well þe sey first out,
And syne maid all þai gulfreiȝ it about;
Quhan he had þe pillaris at his liking,
He waytit of þe sey þe hiest spring,
For than þe wattir ebis lawest doun,
And than he kest þe wall þat he made doun,
And efter þat þe sey fulfillit was,
It fillit all þe gulfreiȝ of þat place.
And oft men seis þe ground wall þat he made—
At a ground eb it garris þame prive to wade,
And wennys þat þe ground is all elike,
And þus þai fall and drovnis þame in þat syke.”

Thane Alexander him tankit mony syse
That he tald him þe perrell in þis wise;
And ȝitt he said, “Wele mare behuiffis ȝow do,
Giff it befall the pillaris ȝe cum to—
To that malment ȝe mon sacrifice,
Or trest wele ellis þat ȝe will all perise,
For crab he him at ȝow, ȝe ar bot dede,
And all þat [with] ȝow cummys in þat stede.”
Than said the king, “Schir, creance I defye—

122

The barbarynis trowis all in malmentry,
Bot we trow nane bot goddis immortale,
Nocht made with mannys handis of metall;
And ȝe of Inde and all þe est cuntre
Anornys ydolis ay and malmentry,
And slais ȝour barnis and offeris vp þare blude,
And sum of bulis efter, as þai think gude;
Bot Arestotill my maister teicheit me
To nocht trow in na goddis þat I se,
Nowther son na mone, nor ȝitt planete na sternis,
Bot in God invisabill þat in all thing governis—
Bot He forbiddis oft to mak sacrefice,
Bot neuer trow thing þat made is be artifece;
And treste me wele, and I þat ymage se,
I sall him tak and bring away with me,
And baith his feris, Livis and Hercules,
And leif þe pillaris standand quhare þai was.”

Thus in þe forrest as þai passand war,
Thai mett thre wodwiȝ, all rouch growin of hare,
Quhilkis throw þe forest gydit him þe way,
Quhare money ane felloun dragoun recounterit þai,
And mony wilde beist, as þai passit thus,
Sum venesoun and sum was venemous,
With mony a mount and mony craggis grete,
With mekill hunger, thrist, and hidduous hete;
And quhan þe beistis hard þe trumpettis blast,
Thai bad na langer, bot fled away full fast.

Than as þai past attoure þir hillis hie,
Sa war [þai] warr of ane grete valee,
Quhilk quhile was licht, quhile cludis oure it past;
To inter þare þai war richt sare agast,
Bot thame behuffit—þai had nane vþer way,
Giff þai wald pas quhare vndertane had þai.
The way was strate, þe oist was grevit sare,
Mony f[o]rtocht þat þai war cumyin þare,
The folk was all in poynt of perising—
The woidwiȝ had gevin oure all þe gyding.
Than tuke þe king in purposis for to ga,
Bot him allane, his goddis for to pra,
And lap on Bussifall and past his way,

123

And bad the ost suld nocht stere thyne away
Quhil[l] he was cummyn agane with sum tything,
Quhilkis to þe lordis mycht mak [sum] conforting.
Quh[an] he was out of sicht, ane quhile he bad,
All to þe goddis fast his prayer made,
To kepe his honoure and saif his cumpaney,
And syne he spurrit his hors deliuerly,
All him allane, quhilk saw neuer thing he dred,
Na was ourethrawin, na for na perrell fled.

Sa at the last he saw ane grete ymage
Off rede metall, sett on a marbill stage—
It semyt of a kemp, it was sa grete;
And sone efter, he saw ane mekill ȝett,
And by the ȝett þare past ane wþer way,
Sidlingis ane hill, and endlang ane valay:
In everie hand of þe ymage wrettin were
Letteris of gold, quhilkis carvyn was full clere—
The [tane] said, “Quhay here gais, he sall haue payne,
Na neuer mare with ioy sall turne agane;”
The tother said, “Þis is þe better gate,
Sa on na wise þai pas out-throw þe ȝate.”
Than Alexander said, “Sertis, þan sall I ride
Out-throw the ȝate, betide quhat-euer betide”,
And throw the ȝate he passit purpositly—
The ȝate closit agane richt suddantly.

Quhen he was in, he passit ferthirm[a]re,
Bot sic ane tempest fell apoun him þare,
Off wynd and rane and wedderis þat ware fell,
Haill, sleit, and snaw, richt scherpe schouris and snell,
That of his witt nere-hand þe king wald wede,
Baith for him-selff and Bussifall his stede.
Than Alexander discendit suddantlie,
And in ane cave vnder ane roche dry
He him re[tir]id to byde his aventure;
For his menȝe his hart was in dolloure:
He said, “Allace, the tyme that I was borne,
Giff all ȝone wourthy men suld be forlorne
For my fooly and my mysfortounyng.”

124

With teris wete his handis couth he wring;
With that he lichtnit vp a litill tyme,
And he lap on, and past ane litill thyne.

Sa saw he a roche crag him by,
In letteris of gold crovyn richt craftely,
“This place is callit þe Wale Perrelus,
Quhare men may fynd grete anteris mervellus,
And mony ferly thingis he sall se,
And saiflie for to pas with his menȝe,
Suppois he war a mylȝoun man or ma;
Bot he man wilfully tyne ane of þa—
Giff þare be ane þat for þa[re] luffe will dee,
Throw a man þe ost sall savit be,
And syne cum in a land of grete riches,
Quhare thai sall fynd of all thing larges.”

Than Alexander past to þe ost agane:
The porte opynnyt, and he was wounder fane,
And till his lordis coimptit all þe case,
Quhat in þe goldin leteris wrettin was,
And how his ost mycht savit be for ane,
That wilfully to dede for þame wald gane.
Thay made þis knawne to þe cumpaney,
Bot þai couth nevir fynd ane man for-þai,
Bot him had lever with all his fallowis dee
Na him allane to dede for-iugeit be—
For naturall it is to mannis kynd
Ay to him-selff for to be nerrest frynd,
And levare had to thole de all þe folk
Na lay his hede with gude will on þe stok.

Than Alexander saw þare was na vþer remede
Bot ane to de or all þe leif be dede:
“Sen þat I am þe caus of ȝoure cumyng,
I am bot ane man, suppois I be ane king;
It sell neuer be rehersit efter me
That for a man sa mony pepill de,
Tharefore I cheis me here to tak the pane,
To de for ȝow, and neuer pas hame agane.”
Than said the lordis, “We will [nocht] it be sua—
We had als leif þat we to dede suld ga,
For be ȝe tynt, I coimpt ws wer na dede,

125

For but ȝoure helpe [we] can sett na remede;
Quhan we ȝow want, we haue na governying—
Thus ar we all in poynt of perissing.”
The king said, “All þus I will it be—
Sa mony gude men beis nocht tynt for me.”
Than gart he all his ost pas saifly þus
Quhill þai war passit þe passege perrelus,
And throw the first porte þat he enterit in,
Syne throw the tother, þat closit with a gyn,
And he bad last of all his cumpaney,
Quhill all þe ost was passit halely,
Than closit the passege with a porte-culis,
That nane agane couth opin þat devis—
Sa him behuffit remane into þat place,
And tak him to þe antere of Goddis grace.

Than war þe lordis affrayit and in grete care
Quhan þat thai saw the king remanit þare,
And all the ost in sic doloure and pane,
Thay trastit [him] neuer for to se agane.
Quhan thai war passit but perrell mare and les,
Than come þai in ane land of grete riches,
Quhare thai mycht find all thing þat men mycht pleis,
[Bot] for the king þai war at grete maleis,
And all prayit to God for his valoure
To kepe þare king fra dede and dishonoure.

The king was in þe Wall Perrelus,
Quhare on him sett a tempest mervellus
Off wynd and rane, of hale and sleit and snaw,
That na man mycht nowther hillis nor hevinnis knaw,
And efter þat grete thounder and fyre-flaucht,
And feyndis in þe cloudis fleand faucht;
The erde trymblit, þe craggis brint in fire,
Quhilk to behald it was a grete martyre,
That Alexander mycht nocht the hevin behald,
Na sitt on hors, na on his fete him hald,
Bot lichtit and lay doun on þe ground,
For till his hart come nevir sic ane stound.
Als Bussiffall was sett in sic affray
That flachtlingis on his wame þare doun he lay—
He laid his mussale on his forther fete;

126

It is the kynd of gentill hors to grete
Quhan that he seis his maister in doloure,
And als him-selff had neuer sic radoure,
Bot till his maister of grete tent he takis,
And on him rubbis his musall and him smakis.
The tempest was grevous and horrabill,
And als þe felloun feyndis sa terrabill—
With that the king vnto his pryaris gais,
And till þe god Amon his prayaris mais,
To ceis the tempest and to grant him grace
Him to delyuer of þat ferly place.

With that began þe craggis for to cleif,
The sone word rede, þ[at] tynt all gude beleif,
For all blakynnit, baith elementis and are,
Als of þe cloudis sic ane stynt come þare
That reddy was baith hors and man to brist;
And als for hete him happinnit sic ane thrist,
For all the hillis brynt as in a lowe,
Quhilk all his body as ane glede gart glowe,
For throw the are war like dragouns birnand,
And sum as feyndis in þe are fleand;
And vther quhile it raynit tadis and paddokis,
Quhilum as bakkis and quhile like attircopis,
Quhile feyndis clekand with þare ewill clukis,
And watand vther with þare widder huikis.
Thus quhan he saw the tempest pas mesure,
With feyndis fleand of sic portrature,
He tuke sic ho[rr]oure and detestatioun,
And to þe hevin made ay deuotioun—
Quhilum on kneis and quhillum gruflingis he lay,
Prayand to God to ceis þat felloun fray.

Sone eftir þis þe tempest was appesit,
And all þis hidduous flaggis of thounder mesit:
The son brak vp and clarefyit þe are,
The wedder wrocht baith soft, clere, and fare.
The king þan lap on hors to tak disporte,
For he had neuer mare myster of counforte,
And in þe wale vp and doun he past
Quhill he come till a postrum at þe last,
Quhare Hercules and Livis at þare requeist

127

Had gart the goddis inclois ane hidduous gast,
Ane wikked sprete, was closit in a serpent,
And in ane roche syne be inchantiment
He was inclosit with ane subtell gyn,
That nane mycht lous bot þai þat put him in;
And richt as Alexander come ridand by,
That sprete into þe cave begouth to cry,
Said, “Welcum be ȝow, Alexander þe King,
I thank þe goddis all of þi cummying—
Thow art the man suld oppin my presoun,
And me delyuer out of þis depe dungeoun;
And doand þat, I sall the schaw þe way
Quhare þow sall wele and saifly pas þai way,
And but herme cum to þi cumpaney.”

Than Alexander þe entre couth espye,
And all þe wayis quho he was enterit in,
And how that all was closit with a pyn,
Quhilk was in mony crukis, like a wise.
Than Alexander, quhilk was baith war and wise,
Said to þe sprete, “Quho may I sikker be
That all [be] soith þat þow hes said to me?”
The sprete ansurid, said, “Ȝow may wele traist
That faith and oblessing makis all thing fast—
Quhat-euer I hecht to the, I mon fulfill,
Thus hes þe goddis ordanid and is þare will
This wale is callit þe Wall Perrellus,
Off quhilkis þe entres ar straitlie kepit þus
Throw þe goddis, at Hercules behest,
Quhilk sett the brasyn pillaris in þe est,
That neuer man sall pas bot onlie thow,
With thai menȝe, þe quhilk ar passit now;
Bot or þow cum þare, grete ferlyis sall þow se,
And in grete dangeris þow and þi menȝe.”

Than gart þe king þe sprete mak oblissing
For to fulfill his bidding in all thing,
And þat be all þe goddis gart him swere,
And als þe passage first he sould him lare.
Than Alexander turnit þe pyn about:
With that ane serpend come þare thrawand out,
Richt wounderfull, and of a ferlie mak;

128

Quhan he was furth, he walterit on his bak,
And oft-tymes walterit oure and changit hew,
And in a litill stound sa grete he grew
That he was like ane wollpak quhare he lay.
Than said the king, “To teiche me þe way,
And hald thai hecht þat þow hes to me made.”
The serpend welterit on but mare abaid,
And till ane postrum in ane roch him led,
Quhilk all with yvyne levis was oure-cled,
And vnder that þare was a porte of brass,
And throw the cragg ane passage liand was;
Abone that porte þare was a porte-culis,
Quhilk as before was opinnand with ane wise.

Quhan þe king persauit had þe gyn,
And traistit it, and tirlit abone þe pyn,
Agane he passis to [þe] samyne place,
The caif quhare that þe serpend closit was,
And chargit him vnder his oblessing
That in þe samyne fassoun he suld cling,
And in his festryn he suld enter agane,
As of þe goddis he wald vmbechew þe pane;
With that he rustit with ane felloun bere,
And grisly granit, with ane sary chere—
He changit fassoun, and wroth baith blak and bla,
Like to ane hidduous feynd with hornis tua,
And sone he was als small sa of before,
And crepis vp and threw in at þe bore.
Than Alexander turnit about þe pyn,
And as he fand, he festynnyit all þe gyn,
Sayand, “I hard þir wise men teichand euer,
Quha feyndis ane ewill sprete bundin, lous him neuer.”

Than to þe postrum passis he in hy,
And on his stede he steppit sturdely,
And furth he gais—ane fare passage he fand—
And syne he enterit in a mychtie land;
And as he past apoun ane montane he,
Sa saw he lyand [in] ane fare cuntre
Ane mychtie ost, with mony pavilliouns,
With banerris, standartis, pynsallis and gunfiouns—

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The sonn reskewit fra þir banerris bricht,
Quhilk to behald it was a lusty sicht;
Behynd him syne he hard ane hidduous cry,
And with that saw of dragouns sa mony,
Fleand into þe Wall Perrellus.
Than louit he God þat he was chapit þus,
And suddantly come till his awne osting,
The quhilk God watt was blyith of his cumying.
Bot sone eftir apoun þe osting Þare fell
A cruell tempest, like as it come fra Hell,
Siclike as in þe Walle Perrellus he saw;
And eftir that þare fell on sic ane snaw,
And quhillum rane, quhile thounder and fyre-flaucht,
That þare was nane quhilk helpe ane wther maucht.
Than said þe guydis þat thai had beleuit
That Hercules and Lives baith war grevit,
And þat þare goddis gart this tempest rise
For Alexander, quhilk was chapit in þis wise.

Than Alexander hecht and avowit has
That he suld ly bot a nycht in a place
Quhil [he] þi goldin ydollis brak in soundir,
And nocht leiff bot the brassin pillaris vnder.
Than fell the tempest wele mare na of before:
The snaw began þe catall for to smore—
It grew sa thik, men wood into þe cors.
Than Alexander gart all men lepe on hors,
And gart þame ride about in a cumpas
Als brade as all the batell lugit was,
And all the cartis and beistis of [ca]riage,
With forayid catell all the heretage,
Gart fute-men cache about contenually
Quhill all the snaw was meltit halely
Within þe space þat he þe loge had tane,
Syne plantit all the pavilliouns doun ilkane.
The snaw sa thik fallin was about þe place
That like þe wall of ane citie it was;
And evermare till his goddis prayit he
To saife the honoure of him and his menȝe.
With that the snaw begouth to melt agane,
With sic ane hete that þare was doubill pane,

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For euer as the snaw meltit, doun it ran,
And with it bare doun money a beist and man;
The wallis all of water grew sa grete,
Thare mycht na man stand on his fete for hete
Quhill þat was gane—syne past thai furth a pais
Towart the cuntre quhare þe pillaris was,
Throw grete desertis and throw wildernes,
Quhare behappynnyt mony ferly cais.

Sa fand thai a maner of ferly men
Betuix tua mountanis duelland in a glen—
Thai war fare creaturis, of grete stature,
Havand gude witt and knawlege of nature;
In clathis þai ware bot skynnys, for þe hete,
The quhilkis þai tuke fra beistis þat þai ete;
Thai war all ȝoung, and like all of ane age,
Semying of threttie ȝere be þare parage.
Fare wemen had thai in like fassoun,
And, as of gudis, þai liffit all in commoun;
Thay ete bot fische and flesche and frute of treis,
Quhill eild þame bare away þar na man deis.

The king callit þame and sperit of þare liffing,
And of þare gouernance and commonying.
Thare grew þe manna, þat angell fude is callit,
Quhilk garris þe pepill liff quhill þai be ald,
And in [þat] cuntre is the Well of Helle,
Quhilk of all maladyis þe folk will hele—
That wele standis in ane land al at devise,
Quhare all the balmes and frotis of Paradise
Growis in a bank abone a litill tyne;
And all the spyce and the nobill wyne
Redoundis and flowis in þat freche fontane,
Off quhilk the vertew sall neuer be gane.
Ane vther wale þare is in þat cuntre,
That quhatkin eild þat euer a man of be,
It sall him sett in age of [threttie] ȝere,
Quhan he is baithit in it at his laysere.
Wenus and Iubiter, þai goddis tua,
Ordanid þat fontane euermare to do sua,
And be þat caus, þe men of þat cuntre
Levis euer-mare ȝoung, in ioy and iolite;

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Bot þare may na man enter into þat place
Bot he be first into þi goddis grace,
Na ȝitt na man cum with him bot him-sell,
Be thame sa straitlie kepit is þe wele.
The thrid well is maist at Paradise,
Quhare na man cummys quhill first of syn he rise,
And quha-sa-evir be weschin in þat well,
He sall haue lestand liffe perpetuall—
Thare is ane goddis kepand euer þat stede,
For quha cumyns þare tholis neuer efter dede.

Sa tuke þe king men with him of [þat] land,
Quhilkis war ane thousand ȝere of eild merchand,
Quhilkis gidit him quhare that the well sould be,
And tald him of it all þe propertie,
And how throw it þai renewit ay þare age.
Than said the king, “Quhat may that proffite me?
For I am nocht cumyn to [threttie] ȝere,
Quharefore ȝoure well may do me na myster;
And als full few that cummys to it thrivis,
For mony men for it hes lost þare livis—
The cuntre is sa strate and mervellus,
With mony beistis and dragouns venemus,
That, suppois that ane gettis his will,
Ane hundreth vther deis or þai cum þaretill.”
Than to þe first well had thai him in hye,
Quhilk helit all man of þare maledye,
That thare was nane, quhat seiknes evir had þai
Off all the ost, bot thai ȝeid hale away.
Syne to þe Vell of Ȝeuthede þai [him] led,
Bot, for he fand a man into þat stede,
Was callit Enoch, quhilk on his forbidding
Had put him in þe well for to worth ȝing,
The king gart tak him furth in his furoure,
And gart incluse him in a stalwart toure—
Becaus his bidding ganestanding had he,
He sall neuer cum of presoun quhill he de.

Syne in a cuntre efter come he than,
Quhare he fand mony kynd of sindrie men:
Sum had the h[e]dis till a hound maist like
And all the bodie dounwart was manlike;

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Syne fand he folk þat bodyis hade wele fare,
Bot nowtheran hede nor hals was on þame þare,
With tua grete ene in everie schulder neist,
And had thare mouth in myddis of þare breist;
And vtheris was þare quhilkis war richt manly made,
Quhilkis in myddis of his forehede bot ane e had—
Thay war richt mekill blak and sturdie men,
And propirly men callis þame Syclopen;
Sum had a fute sa brade, and als sa large,
That fra the hete of sommer vald þame targe.
Syne come thai to þe land of Pigmeanis,
The quhilkis had euer were agane þe crannys,
The quhilkis war schorte, and of bot litill strenth—
Thay war bot [twa-and-threttie] inche of lenth,
Bot of craftis þai war subtell and sle,
And be þame-selff thai held ane hale cuntre;
The Emprioure of Ynde þame held in hand,
For grete riches quhilk thare was haboundand.

Syne come he to þe cuntre of Rimorte,
Ane wourthy land, quhare he gat grete conforte:
Thay had a prophecy into that land,
A king suld cum quhilk sulde be all-weil[d]and,
And all this erde suld anys haue vnder fute,
And syne of Paradise suld haue tribute,
And alsua fast as Alexander thai saw,
Thai said, “This is þe man suld do þe law.”
Thare was ane cove þare, closand with a gyn,
That neuer man chapit þat come þarein;
Than Alexander gart proif with ane or tua,
Bot thare come nevir agane ane of þai.
The entre was of tempill Hercules,
Quhare-in he with his goddis closit was,
Quhan that he past the pillaris for to sett,
And nevir come men sen-syne within þe ȝett.
Syne fand he men [and] wemen baith schynnand,
And quhillum nakit in þe feild rynnand,
Quhilk ete bot fische and fleche, and drank þe blude,
And maist thare duelling was into þat flude;
Quhare thai gatt men, þai to þare cavis þame tursit,

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And oft-tyme naturalie with þame conversitt—
Thay war sa plesand and sa wounder fare,
Thay gart men do oft-tymes attoure power;
Quhan þai men gatt, þai war sa wounder fane,
Thay tursit thame with þame, and come neuer agane.

Syne passit thai oure hillis and mony planȝe,
Quhill thai come till ane wounder hie montane,
Quhile þai mycht se þe sey all opinly,
And all the bordouris of it halely,
The quhilk ar callit þe bonis of Hercules,
Quhare that the brayssin pillaris standand was.
Quhen he that saw, than was his hart richt blyth,
And gart his pavilliouns doun be stentit swyith,
And on his kneis deuotelie can he fall,
And made his prayaris till his goddis all,
That thai grant him power and walloure
To be anys of þai pillaris conqueroure,
And all þe ydolis of þe barbarianis,
To put þame doun and stroy þame all at anys.
With þat þe sey ebbit sa far away
That all þe craggis about þame lay;
Than made thai flottis, and past oure but bade
Attoure thai gattis þat Hercules had made,
And brocht of gold þe thre malmentis away,
And left þe pillaris as before stude thai.
Syne brak the goldin ydolis all in sounder—
Off ilkane made ma pices na a hunder;
And delt thame syne till þame that him best tocht,
And of thare ydolis he rekkit nocht.

And as he come vnto þe ost agane,
He fand his men war sett in mekill pane,
For sic a rowmer of oliphantis and beistis
Ws nevir hard before þis tyme in geistis,
With birnand dragouns, fyre-flaucht and tempest,
That mervell war þat ony man mycht lest [OMITTED]
And all ille beistis þat war into þat wod;
Bot Alexander with sound of trumpett þame sched,
Thare bad neuer ane, bot all to feild war fled,

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And all the tempest ceissit throw his prayer,
Sa was his persoun [till] þe goddis dere.

Than wrocht the tyme richt soft, þe day wox fare,
And ceissit was all stroblance in the are,
And all the beistis fled to the wildernes.
Than rade the king about to se þe place;
And as he passit with few in cumpaney,
Baith men of Inde and vtheris þe maist wourthy,
Thay persauit of ane capitole,
Within a cragg, was crovyn as ane hole;
Off blak merbill þare was of grete stature
Ane grete ymage made to þe portratoure
Of ane gyant, enarmit all at poynt,
As he suld ga to batale at sic poynt,
And crovyn his wapynnis like as þai fra him fall,
Ilkane efter vther, as þai war brokin all
Fechtand in feild, as wourthy men and wicht.
His portratoure was maist like to ane knicht,
And in his armes a lioun portraid was;
The knicht and lioun baith war made of brass,
And in his hand he hed þe liounis hevit,
Like as the chaftis fra the chope had revit.
Syne was þare wrettin in þe marbill stane
In leid of Grew, grete lettiris, gold begane:
“Here was the batall donn be Hercules,
The quhilk sall neuer be, na neuer was,
The make of him in strenth of wictory,
As for a mannis persoun alanerlie,
Quhilk sett þe pillaris and þe goldin ymage,
And wallit þe sey quhill he had sett his stage,
He and Livis, his fallow and his fere,
With helpe of goddis to quham þai made prayer,
And als a batall faucht into þis place
With all þe wild beistis of þe wildernes—
He slew ane lioun mare na ony hors,
And fra þe chovpe þe chaftis rife on force,
And with his neif þe harin-pane in he dewit,
And but wappin þe liffe fra him he revit;
For all his wappnis brokin war fechtand,
And neuer ane wappin levit in-till his hand,

135

With oliphantis, cocadrill and dragouns,
Beris, vnicornis, wolfis, tigris and liouns.”
For traistis wele, þe beistis in þat cuntre
Ar mare na in þis land of quantetie,
And mare creuell of curage and of cors,
Like as ane fole in regarde of ane hors,
As be þe bewgil, oxin men may se,
And camelis, quhan þai cum of þat cuntre,—
As we may trow be takinnis mervellus
Quhilkis of þat cuntre cumand ar till ws,
As of thir olephantis and vnicornes—
Quhat wounder is to se sic teith and hornys
As cummys in galais and in merchandice,
Quhilkis in þir cuntreis takis a mekill price.

The mutonys als, as suth is verrealy,
Ar alsa mekill as here ar commoun kye,
Bot na woll beris þai, bot taty lokerand hare;
Thare tail tralis efter þame ane eln or mare,
And, for to turn hir tale quhare-euer scho gais,
Ane chareot of foure quhelis men hir mais,
The quhilk is lang, and beris the tale on loft,
For it is havy, flesche, fatt and soft,
And may nocht traill, for it wald were away
And birst of blude out within half ane day;
Thare flesche is rude as beif is here with ws,
The taill of þame is ay maist letturus,
For that ete [thai] with ryss, as we ws here
With peis and bonis, or on sic maner,
With the bynnoke of ane dere of grass,
Quhilk in þe tyme of belling takin was.
Thare hennys grete as geis [ar] here,
And al foulis alsua we may compare,
As be ane ostrech men may wele persaue
How it excedis in gretnes oure þe laif.
Thare wyld cattis are grete as wolffis ar,
With ougly ene, and tuskis fer scherpare;
Ane howlate thare is mekill as ony guse
That euer men saw growand at hame with ws—
Gude ressoun is thai be of mare stature,
For euermare eftir the starkare is nature,

136

The erde mare fatt and of grete fertillite,
And alkyn best of fer mare quantetie.

Thus Alexander has past Inde Maior,
In grete [v]exaccioun, travell and laboure,
Vnto the north sey, als fer as Hercules,
And quhan he in þe sey þare wedand was,
He kest his swerd als fer as he mycht kest,
Quhilk was neuer man þat euer sa far past,
Na neuer sall do vnto the warldis end,
As be oure buikis in cornykill we are kend.
Syne schupe he to cum hame ane vther way
Throw Myddil Inde, eftir as hi[s] purposis lay,
And throw ane land is callit Terre Mervellus,
In sum party, the story tellis ws þus,
Nereby the landis agane the pigmeanis;
And thare he vesyit the Macrobeanis,
Ane pepill ferlifull, of quent fessoun,
Liffand in cavis, withoutin hous or toun.

Syne passit he throw þe land callit Terre de Dee,
Quhare na vennoun may grow na liffand [be],
Quhare all gude frotis and spicis ar growand,
And pretius stanis of vertew in þat land,
All we[l]th, riches, and na pouerte,
Na na beggaris na thevis þare wilbe;
The corne is growand þare tweis in þe ȝere,
Thare is ay sommer, and wedder fare and clere;
All kynd of frute is rypand euerie day,
Ay flurissand and widderand away.
All þe foure fludis that cummys fra Paradise
Throw the thre landis of the thre Indis passand is—
In thai reveris pretius stanis growand is,
The quhilkis ar fundin efter quhan the fludis flowis.
Into that cuntre standis þe fare palaȝ
Quhare the goldin chenȝe hingand was,
Bot it was fra thyne þat passit he had
In-to Grete Inde, quhare he the cite maid.

Quhen Alexander had fundin his ciete,
And Porrus slane and conquest his menȝe,
And he had wonnying þe Pillaris of Hercules,
And at the Wellis of Hele and Ȝeuthede wan,

137

And past he had the W[a]le Perrelus,
With mony anterus fortoun and mervellus,
Than inwarte to þe landis of Babillone,
As we haue said, his wayis hes he tane.
The tythingis passit throw-out all Orient
Off his fortoun, his werde, his accident.

All thus passand, he schupe him to the place
Quhare wonnand was þe worthy Quene Candas,
The quhilk was blayth of his gane-cummyne—
Scho luffit him best of ony erdlie thing—
The quhilk send him a new ambassadry,
With presentis and with giftis richt mychtely,
With iowellis and with drowryis mony ane;
And oft-tymes in hir closett made hir mane
Quhan scho the figure of his fassoun saw,
Quhilk scho had gart hir payntoure forow draw.
Scho was wedo, and princes of þe land—
The king was dede, hir lorde and first husband;
Thre sonnys scho had borne till him before,
Candeolus, Marcenus and Caractoure,
Quhilkis with hir war, and at hir ordinance,
For scho wald neuer giff oure þe governance—
The lordschip of hir-selff promovit hale,
Quharefore scho wauld nocht leif þe gouernale.
The custume was þi tymes in that cuntre
That princes maryit wyiffis tua or thre,
Eftir as thame tocht spedefull or proffitable,
Quharefore scho tocht, sen scho was woman habil,
And of ȝouthede, and princes of þe land,
That semyt wele he suld be hir husband.
Than Alexander had sene be ane visioun,
Be the reuelatioun of þe god Aymon,
That in that land he sulde mak sacrefice,
And for that offerand ordant grete police:
The grete ymage war crovyn of gold fyne,
Off Iubiter, off Mars and Appollyne,
With ane grete stature of þe god Amon;
And to the quene ane pistill þarevpone
He ordanid for to send with reuerance,
Requerand hir, for hir grete excellance,

138

To pas with him þe sacrefice to ma,
For be [þe] goddis it was ordanid sua;
And send hir þe ymage of god Aymon,
His fader, quhilk his traist was maist apoun,
And bad hir mete him at ane certane day—
The ost fra thyne tua litill iornayis lay.

The ladie was content of þis tything—
Blayther in his harte was nevir erdlie thing.
Than send scho furth to ordand for þe place,
Into the mont quhare that the tempill was,
To stent and graith the pallais at devise,
And als the tempill, for to mak sacrefice;
And send that ymage of þe god Aymon
With hie estate and grete prouisioun,
Gart sett it in the tempell honerablie;
And with that send ane amabassat wourthy,
Hir eldest sone, þe Prince Candeolus,
With offerandis and with giftis pretious,
Ane hundereth knichtis and ladyis richt stately,
To convoye him and bare him cumpaney.
Than had Candeolus in mariage tane
Ane of þe farest creaturis of blude and bane,
Ane princes dochter of þe south cuntre,
In land mycht nane farrer of figure be,
The quhilk the quene had ordanid for to pas,
As princes nixt hir of ladyis that þare was.

Thus furth thai past in-till ane May mornying,
Off that ymage to mak the presenting.
Sua duelt þareby a prince of mekill mycht—
The Duke of Balantyne to name he hicht—
The quhilk the quene of lang tyme luffit haid,
Bot scho richt litill comforte till him made;
Bot scho had sett hir hart into sa hie a place,
Thare mycht nane vther stand intill hir grace,
Off quhilk the duke had tane sa grete dispite,
He studyit dalie quho he mycht hir quyte;
And als hir sonnys he had at richt grete fede,
Traistand it was þare counsale and thare rede.
He was ane mychtie lord of hie parrage,
And quhen he hard tell of the pilgrymage,

139

And that sa few in cumpaney war thai,
He sett f[o]r to mete þame on þe way,
In-to þare cumyne hamewart to Candas,
And furthwith send and spyit all the plais;
And quhan he wist þai war sa few menȝe,
Nocht in armes, as men of were suld be,
Bot in thare row[b]is ryall of array—
For as of were, na man mystraistit thay—
Five hundreth armet knichtis with him he tais,
And thame to mete vnto þe tempill gais;
And sone he metis thame in his way cuming,
Bot thai of him disparit war na thing
Quhill thai in handis all war tane and sesit,
Off quhilk Candeolus no thing was applesit.

Than sais the duke, “Candeolus, perde,
Thai wiffe man pas to Balantyne with me;
As now nane vther stroublance sall þow haue—
Pas hame thai way, and tak with þe the laif.”
With that Candeolus drew furth his brand,
And spurrit his stede, and till him come drivand,
And with the poynt he hit him in þe breist;
Bot he ane actoun had his bodie nixt,
The quhilk was made of plewan and assyse,
Off Sarray silk plett full of vlypyis,
And all suppois he strake with all his mane,
The swerd did nocht, bot reboundit agane;
Bot þat ȝitt than it stonyst him richt sare,
And baklingis on his hors leyndis him bare.

With that thare was ane hundreth swerdis out,
And wiround all Candelous about,
That, had nocht bene his hors mare of mycht,
He had bene losit, had he bene neuer sa wicht.
He spurrid his hors and pas out of þe preis,
Bot all his men in handis takin was,
Sum strikin doun, sum beft, sum woundit sare,
And all the ladyis tane in handis þare—
Thay held the princes and with hi[r] vther tua
Off hir chalmer, and all the laif lete ga,
And gart convoye þe laif ane litill space,
Had hame with him the princes till his place.

140

Quha was mare wa na [Candas þe quene,
Quhilk grevit mare na] ony hart may wene?
Bot neuer-the-les scho made mare conforting
To gett sum helpe of Alexander þe king;
And nocht for-thy ane epistill scho him send,
Bot na thing of hi[r] maleis scho pretende,
Bot tald him in quhat maner and quhat wise
Scho send to make þe goddis sacrefice,
And how ane ryall croun scho haid him sent,
Was nane mare pretius in þe Orient,
To sett apoun þe hede of god Aymon
Into that tempill of grete deuotioun;
And þus ane pistill sone to him scho sendis,
And all hir landis and men till hi[m] commendis:

“Till Alexander, þe king of kingis with croun,
The sonn of Quene Olympias and god Aymoun,
The Quene of Litill Inde, Cleophiolas,
The Quene of Mont de Dieu and Candas,
Honoure, loving, with hartlie reuerence;
We haue sene ane pistill cum fra ȝoure excellence,
Requerand ws to pas with ȝow but mare
Into þe mont quhare þat þe goddis ware,
To mak sacrefice and deuotioun,
And to vesy ȝoure fader, þe god Aymon.
Witt ȝe þat I haue send þe fare ymage
Vnto the tempill, and sett it on a stage,
Apoun his hede ane croun of freche devise,
Is nane mare pretius fra thyne to Paradise;
And sone efter we hed ane visioun,
Be revelatioun of þe god Aymon,
That all the goddis of the Orient
Ar all accordit and of ane assent
That ȝe salbe lord anys of all þe erde,
Quhilk hale be ȝow sall gouernit be and strede:
Baith Mekill Ayse, with Ewrope and Afferik
Ȝe sall conquest and mak all ane kinrik,
And Egipt out of thirldome ȝe sall bring,
As quylum spayit Nectanabus the king,
And all the landis vnto þe Occiane Sey
Fra Paradise, to ȝoure croun sall obey.

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Thus is na nede þat I suld with ȝow pas,
For all thir thingis to me revellit was;
And here of pretius veschell I ȝow send,
Is na fynare vnto the warldis end,
Off serpent stane, with gold borderit about,
That all the poysoun of þis warld, but dout,
Sall neuer him dere na man of þat it drinkis;
And gif a man ane vther poisin thinkis,
That coup sall hald [na] licoure in his hand,
For euer his hand salbe trymland,
And euer throw the metall it sall lete,
And all the claythis about it sall wete;
Als thre flaukouns I send ȝow of þe best,
That [n]euer poisoun may mak into thame rest,
Foure platis als to sette ȝoure mete apoun,
The quhilkis all foure ar made of serpent bone,
That in ȝoure power sall nocht be to ete
Out of þai platis poysoun na raw mete;
Thre ringis als I send, with pretius stanis—
The tane conservis men fra brist of banys,
The tother þat na blude sall drawin be
Off a persoun the day that he it se;
The thrid, gif it be borne in ony man,
Sall haue na les honoure na he has þan,
Na sall neuer cum mysfortoun to his cors,
Na sall nocht tak na velany on hors.
I send ȝow foulis in cageis wele singand,
Barnys dansand and madynis karoland,
With oliphantis, camellis and dromoderis,
Wele garnist for to helpe ȝow in ȝoure weris;
And with this hartfully we ȝow require
[Ȝ]e wauld ws certefie of ȝoure gude chere.”

Thus furthwith passit the message to þe king,
And of þis pistill made him presenting;
Bot he wauld nocht him-selff appere in place,
Bot gart thame throw Emenedus king was,
Quhilk was ane fare lord and a seneȝourabill,
And in his feris lordlike and honerable.
The king was ay, fra he come in þat land,
About þe ost inarmyt ay ridand,

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Seand his wachis and sendand scoutis and spyis—
Grete witt of weris in wardis and waching lyis.
Sa tuke Candelous in purposing
To seik rescourus at Alexander the king,
For he hed hard sic wourschip of him recorde
In all this warld was nane mare worthy lord,
And als he wist how that his moder was
Sa mekill in his favoure and his grace;
And als for dispite of þe said favoure
The duke was sett to do thame dishonoure—
He micht nocht rest, his hart was wounder wa,
Becaus his wiffe sa lang was haldin him fra;
And to the king he past but mare abaid,
For to require him, of his gudlyhede,
Off his supplie, in ressoun and in richt,
The quhilk is dett baith to the king and knicht,
Wrangit and revist ladyis to supple—
This is a poynt of nobill dignete.

And as he past into the cumpaney,
Sa mete he with the king alanerlie,
About his ost ridand in all his gere,
Inarmyt wele, and in his hand ane spere,
For he wauld euer in owting lepe on hors,
And on þe day to sleep, and nycht to waak—
Than vtheris micht exempill of him tak.
Candeolus made him small reuerance—
He had na knawlege of his excellance—
Bot fallowlike made him ane small dewgard,
And he agane made him a swete reward.
Candeolus excedit nocht tuenty;
The king was him allane alanerlie.
Candeolus sais, “Fare schir, I ȝow require
That to the kingis speche ȝow wauld me nere,
For alsa mekill, and euer ȝe haue ado,
For ony seruice we may mak ȝow to.”

Than sais the king, “Swete schir, wauld ȝe me tell
Ȝoure name and of ȝoure cuntre quhare ȝe duell,
And quhat the caus is of ȝoure cumyne here,
I suld do gud will ȝoure erand for to nere.”
Than sais the knicht, “Fare schir, me think that ȝe

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Ar like a man of honoure for to be,
Quharefore me likis wele schaw ȝow my entent,
And ask ȝoure counsale or I forther wentt:
I am sone to Quene Cleophiola,
Quene of Candas and vther landis ma,
And, for scho has a favoure to ȝoure king,
And luffis him best of ony erdly thing,
Thare is a lorde, callit Duke of Ballantyne,
Tuke fede to hir and luffit hir neuer sensyne;
This hynder day we past in pillgrymage
Till tempill Iubiter, with ane ymage
The quhilk ȝoure king send of þe god Aymon,
In gude entent and grete deuotioun,
And as we come hamewart þe tempill fra,
Ane hunder in cumpaney, withoutin ony ma,
Quhat men, quhat wemen, and nocht in fere of were—
We had na dred till haue myster of gere—
Sa come the duke enarmit purpostly,
Five hundreth armit in his cumpaney,
And tuke my wiffe on force and led me fra,
The quhilk has made my hart full wounder wa;
And mony of my men has tane and slane,
And haldis hir ȝitt, and will nocht giff agane:
Quharefore, sen ȝoure king has sa hie renoun,
As maist worthy þat in this erde beris croun,
I wauld beseik him, of his gudlie grace,
Till helpe to lay ane sege to þe place,
To gett my wiffe, quhilk is baith gud and fare—
Scho is ane kingis dochter and his are.”
With that the t[e]re brist out of þe childis e.

The king behelde, and had richt grete petie,
And said, “Swete schir, be blith of conforte now—
I sall pas to þe king, and speik for ȝow,
For it efferis nocht a kingis excellence
That ony strangere cum till his presence
Quhill first he witt þe caus of his cummying,
Quha is his lorde or quhare is his duelling.”
With that the king past to the palȝeoun,
And furthwith gart Emenedus sit doun,

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In habit ryall, with croun apoun his hede,
And bad men obey him in his stede
Quhill he agane come to the cumpaney,
For he wauld pas ane herand haistely;
And bad all men call him Antegonus,
And all the ost he warnit to do thus,
Syne past agane and fechit the gentil knycht,
Quhilk was into grete dolloure day and nycht,
For his lady the duke had fra him revit,
And for hir lufe in langoure had him levit.
And till him come quhare he was lichtit doun,
And syne him lede into his palȝeoun;
Quhen he come in, he knelit on his kne—
Sa did Candeolus, þat all mycht se—
And to þe king furthwith made his request;
And he richt gudlie grantit his behest,
And to the douȝeperis said in þis maner,
“Giff thare be ony of my chiftanis here
That will this knichtis erand tak on hand,
I sall him gif grete lordschip and grete land.”

Than sais the king (quhilk callit is Antegone),
“Schir king, I tak þe viage me apoun,
Sa that ȝe grant me men till ga with me,
And, gif me mysteris, send me mare supple,
And I sall send the cite for to ta,
And all that euer was at that dede to sla;
Bot gif þai send me furth þat lady fre,
I sall strike doun þe wallis of þat citie,
And birin and sla all that I find tharein,
And haue the duke at my will or I blyn.”

The king said, “Antegone, blissit mott thow be—
Thow art ane chiftane richt wele ordand for me.”
Than sais the king, quhare he sett in his [trone],
“I am content—my will is it be done;
Go cheis the of þe best and wourthiest—
I sall the supple quhill þat my liffe may lest.”
Than sais the king, “Fare Schir Candeolus,
Pas hame, sen we haue to purpois thus,
And make ȝow reddy to-morne in þe mornying,

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With all powar, als fast as day can spring,
And mete at þe toun of Ballantyne;
And gif ȝe haue owther gvn or ȝit engyne,
Bring þame with ȝow, and se ȝe kepe ȝoure day,
And traistis wele I sal cum as I may.”

All þus Candeolus is pas[sit] hame,
And tauld this purposis till his lady dame,
The quhilk was blith, and ordand mychtely
Foure or five thousand men þat was worthy,
With schote of gvn, engyne, and all vther thing
That ordand war for ony tovne wynnying.
The king had wele the cast into his thocht,
And als Candeolus forȝett it nocht,
For all the nycht na slepe com in his e,
Bot as a woid man for his wiffe berit he.
The king chesit out ten thousand, or he stent,
Off men maist subtell, by his iugment,
To conquest townys or ȝitt citeis
Be ledder or myne or vther subteleteis,
And of gvnnis tua or thre or maist traist,
Quhilk throw a ten-fute wall of stane wald kast;
And trumpit vp and past furth in þe morrow—
Bot ȝitt Candeolus was þare him forrow.

The king was gentill, and na were wald ostend
Quhill first ane pistill of diffiance was send,
Till ask ressoun and mendiment of þe skaith,
And gif he wald consent to do thame baith,
As for that poynt men suld him mak na were,
Na till his place na landis do na dere,
For gentrice wald, quhare men ar ressonable,
That all men to thame war mare favorable.
Than send the king ane pistill in þis wise,
Into this buik as efter wrettin lyis:

“King Alexander, the king of kingis with croun,
The sone of Quene Olymphias and god Aymon,
Till Elchias, the Duke of Balantyne:
We haue hard how ȝe, nocht lang gane syne,
Haue trublit oure seruandis vnder fere of were,
In passing fra the tempill of Iubiter,
Quhilkis bare oure offerand to that haly place,

146

Quhilkis, as we think, richt wikkitlie done was;
And als ȝe haue distrublit grevously
Ane wourthy princes and his cumpaney,
And revist hir, and slane of hir menȝe,
And haldis hir ȝitt of force in ȝoure ciete;
Scho is maryit, and has hir awne husband—
Ȝe brek mariage, þe quhilk is Goddis band;
Suppois ȝe be ane maister oure þe laif,
God made ȝow nocht maistry oure Him till haue.

“Thus haue ȝe faltit to ȝoure goddis twise,
And mannis law als ȝe haue brokin thryis,
In revissing, and spilling of mannis blude,
Thare presonying and haldin of þare gude,
Quharefore I wald this thing amendit wer,
Baith to the goddis and to þe lady fare,
And to þe worthy prince Candeolus,
Quhilk in oure seruice is defoulit thus;
And in this mater ȝe wauld gif credence,
A[s] langand mendiment of þe said offence,
Till Antegone, oure knicht of parliament,
With all the hale ansure of ȝoure entent;
Giff ȝe do nocht, we ws to ȝow acquytt—
We sall sa sure revenge þat dispite
That it exempill till all vtheris be,
Or we pas furthwart out of þis cuntre.”

Quha was mare crabbit þan na was þe duke,
Als fast as on þis pistill he couth luke;
He raif it syne, and in þe fyre he castis,
And in his breth of boist he blew gret blastis—
His toun was stark, of na man had [he] dout,
For it was doubill-wallit all about—
And to [þe] message said, for pure dispite,
Bad him go thens, him deingȝ[e]it nocht to wrett,
And bad Antegonus go to do his best,
And owther mak pace or were, quhidder him lest,
And euerie man was reddie in his gere.
With that the king gart blaw ane blast of were:
Thay stellit gunnys, and mynouris past to myne,
And ledderis sett to the wallis syne,
Syne ordand schote to kepe þe assaleȝouris,

147

And settis the gunnys ay to þe gretest touris.
The duke hard this, and sare he was addre[d],
And all þe toun till armes ryis he bad—
Bot thai wald nocht rise with him for his micht,
For thai knew wele the querrell was vnricht.

Than saw the duke þat he dissauit was,
And tuke þe power of his awne paillace,
The quhilkis he had foure thousand men or five,
And armit went to þe wallis belive;
Bot or thai come, the gun[ny]s had dungin doun
Thre of þe gretest touris of all þe toun—
The wallis als war mynit throuch and throuch.
Thare men micht se quha best in armys doicht—
The ledderaris had the brokin touris tane;
In at the myne a rout of men is gane,
Quhen thai best wend þe toun suld kepit be.
The duke begouth to ta þe bak and fle,
And to þe pallais drew him hastalie—
With that the ȝettis þe burgouss brak in hy,
And lete [in] Antegone with all his rout,
And all the toun him welcumynis with a schout;
Inarmit all into þe paillais past,
And sone the wallis doun of it can cast,
And spuleȝete it, and brynt it all to nocht,
And till Antegonus þe duke þai brocht.
And syne thai gart bring furth þe ladie clere,
Till quham Antegonus made him worthy chere,
Syne till hir lorde gart hir deliuerit be—
Sa blayth thai war, it was gret ioy to se;
With ladyis scho was kepit [sa] clenely,
Scho wauld neuer grant ane nycht with him to ly.
The duke wald becum man to Antegoun,
Bot that was neuer þe counsale of þe toun—
He was neuer luffit with his menȝe,
For his iniureis and grete inequite.

The king was purposit to strek doun þe toun,
Bot he wald nocht, becaus of þe commoun,
Quhilk favorit him into his conquesting;
And furthwith made Candeolus þare king,
And fast as to the pallioun þai war cummyn,

148

He was crovnit, and for þare king was nummyn.
The duke was hingit on þe wallis he,
Abone the maister porte of þe ciete,
For strublance of þe tempill in ane way,
And takin of þe princis wiffe away,
And als for spilling of saikles mannis blude,
And personying, and takin of þare gude.

Emenedus in kingis stede was sett,
And Antegone with gudly wordis grett,
Sayand, “Fare schir, þow did þi dett treulie—
Thow sall haue thai rewarde als als hartfulie.”
Than sais Candeolus till Antegone,
“Fare schir, I ȝow require with me to gone
To my moder, to thank ȝow and reward—
I sall agane convoye ȝow hidderward.”
“Ȝ[e] mon ask leif,” he sais, “at the king,
And but his leif I dar nocht do sic thing;
Bot neuertheles full fane wald I be thare
To se þe quene” (he saw hir neuer ayr).
Than sais the king, “I grant leif, perde,
Sa that ȝe bring him saif agane to me.”
With that thai past, and semblit thare menȝe,
Bot [four-and-twentie] knichtis, na may wald he.
Than Candeolus send to his moder dere,
And prayit hir þat scho wald mak gude chere
Till Alexander, and till his cumpaney,
The quhilk had helpit him so mychtely,
And tauld hir how all thingis cummyne was,
And how the king had gevin all þe place.
Quha was blayther na was þe nobill quene,
Quhilk in deseis before lang tyme had bene,
Baith for distroublance of Candeolus,
And als the king was past of þre cuntre þus;
And ordanit for to mak gude chere him till,
And him to welcum with ane ioyus will.

Thus interit in þe pallais Candeolus,
And efter him interit Antegonus;
The quene thame welcumynit wounder michtely,
And ordanit for to feist þame ryally,
And after dyner fell into ta[u]lking,

149

Baith of thare dedis and Alexander the king.
The quene tuke Antegone into secre,
And tald him sum thing of hir private,
And of þe luff scho had to Alexander,
And how of him scho had richt mekill wounder,
That he into the cuntre come sa nee,
And wald nocht cum hir anys for to se.
And he ansurid agane full soberlie,
Sayand, “Ȝe waitt, princis þat ar mychtie
May nocht sa suddantly cum to langage
As vther folk, that ar of law parrage.”
Scho sais, “Þat is wele soith, bot nocht for-thay,
I and myne at his will ar halely,
And efter was with me sen kend he was,
Baith land and lordschip, citie, toun and place.”
The king hir thankis for his maister sakis.

With that mare redly tent scho to him takis,
And euer þe mare scho lukit, þe mare he was
Ay bettir favorit, and mare in-till hir grace;
And at the last scho tocht in hir curage,
“Ȝone is the portratoure of þe visage,
The werry fessoun of þe phisomye
Quhilk in my closit kepit land haue I.”
And bad him bide a litill tyme quhill sche
Had bene at hir closit a litill we;
And to þe figure scho behelde a quhile,
And be hir-selff a litill couth smylle,
Sayand, “Now am I sikker þis is he—
Now se I wele this is for lufe of me.”
And vp scho plyit þe figure subtelly,
And put it in hir bosum secritlie,
And till him come agane in gudlie haist—
Scho was sa blayth scho tynt hir mynd almaist—
And till him said, “Schir, will ȝe pas benwart;
I haue grett favoure to ȝow with my hart—
Giff ȝe will rest and slepe a litill tyme,
And I sall hald ȝow into talkin syne.”
“Me likis wele,” þe king sais, “quhat ȝe will—
My governance here I committe ȝow till,
To ȝow and to ȝoure sone Candeolus,

150

Sen I haue put me in ȝour danger þus.”

Than benewart past þai to mare secrete place;
The quenis hart euer in ane radoure was,
And fane wald scho discover, and scho mocht,
Bot baith for lufe, and als scho durst do nocht,
Scho trymblit fast, and oft scho changit hew.
The mare scho him beheld, þe mare scho knew,
Quhill at the last scho birst out of grete,
And he, quhilk euer was to women swete,
Reconforde hir, and sperit þe caus and quhy;
Bot he, quhilk knew of lufe the maledy,
Had sum persaving of hir lufe before,
And lauchit in his armys tua þarefore,
And kist hir oft-syis and hartfully—
And quhat þi did, na thing þareof watt I,
For þare was nane in chalmer bot þai twa—
Quha suld discover, [bot] gif þai war ane of þa?
I wate no more bot lang þai restit þare,
And quhan þai come furth, gude frendis þai war.

Bot in the mentyme fell ane ieoperdy
Betuix þame tua, quhilk efterwart hard I;
Scho kest in-till [hir] hart and arguud þus:
“He wenys I traist he is Antegonus,
To quhome gif I grant my lufe to giff,
Than will the king neuer lufe me quhill I liffe,
And gif I tell þat I him graithlie knaw,
It will him crab—þis dar I nocht for aw;
Thus lufe me strenȝeis, bot cowartdise na dar.
Bot cowart hart had neuer fare luffare—
Thus sall I tell, quhat-euer me betide,
And till his grace I syne sall me abid.”
With that, with quakand hart scho till him said,
“Fare lorde, and ȝe wald nocht be ill appaid,
I wauld discourer to ȝow ane litill thing,
Quhilk wald me mak rycht grete recomforting,
Sa that it wauld to ȝow na thing displeis,
Quhilk haldis all my mynd in grete maleis.”
“Sa furth,” said he, “ȝe ar assoverit now—
Quhat-euer ȝe say sall me nocht greif at ȝow.”

Scho said, “Fare schir, for þi lufe and thai saik,

151

Ane figure of þai semblance I gart mak
For mekill luferent þat I had to þe;
I haue it here, behald and ȝow may se:
Here is the portratoure of þi vissage,
Off all thai memberis hale and þi corsage.
I ken and knawis þat Alexander art thow—
Be þi stature I ken the cleirlie now;
Thare is no creature it wate bot I,
Na nane sall witt, treulie, I the affye.”

With that the king still in a study stude:
His harte grew, and mengit all his blude,
And in him-selff he threw in-till his breist,
And oft his face diuers cullouris oure-kest,
And threw þe face, and wrang his handis fast,
And of a speche he brak furth at þe last,
Sayand, “Allace, my swerde quhen I þe left—
It war worthy þe liffe war fra me reft;
Had I it here, but drede I sould sla the,
And syne with it my-selff I suld gar de.”
With that the quene brist out with sob and grete,
And flatlingis fell doun grufelingis at his fete,
Sayand, “Fare lorde, haue mercy on me now;
Sen first assurance askit I at ȝow,
Ȝe suld into ȝoure hart þe caus pays,
And nocht sa rigurously me till abais—
I did for gude all thing that I haue done,
And ȝe wald haue ȝoure-selff and me vndone,
Sen nane has witt of ȝow bot I and ȝe.
Ȝe haue na caus sa crabbit for to be—
It salbe kepit counsell and secrete;
I haue the keyis of a postrum ȝett—
Quhen-euer ȝow list, ȝe sall haue fre passage;
Haue ȝe na dred þat nane ask ȝow trewage.
Giff ȝe will haue men to convoye ȝow of þe toun,
I sall send with ȝow to ȝoure palȝoun
Off worthy men als mony as ȝow list,
In quhome ȝe may als wele as in ȝoure men trist;
And gif likis ȝow bettir þus to do,
Gar send efter ȝoure men to cum ȝow to,
And in this pallais I sall þame ressaue,

152

Als mony as it likis ȝow till haue.”
With that the king of hir was sa content
That he forgaif hir all his matelent.

As thai war of þis wise allane talkand,
Sa come thare folk fast to þe dur rappand,
Sayand Carractor and his wife was cummyn,
And grete discorde into þe pallais beg[unnyn].
Caractor was hi[r] son of ȝounger age,
And had King Porrus sister in marriage,
And quhen scho herd þat Antegone was þare,
Sa mekill ado scho made hi[r] husband thare,
Sayand scho sould neuer langer be his wiffe
And he lete Antegone chape with his liffe;
And he, quhilk with his wiffe ab[a]ndonnyt was,
Semblit all the power he mycht be in the place
Agane his broder, Prince Candeolus,
Ilkane aganis wther strivand thus.
Than said the quene, “Allace that I was borne,
Sa worthy men for me suld here be lorne!
Sa me now, Alexander, þi counsale—
How sall I saif my sonnys fra tynsale?
The tane wald sla, the tothir fane wald saif—
Thus, tyne I ane, I may tyne all þe laif.
Quharefore, suete schir, þi counsale gif þow me
How best my sonnys baith may savit be,
And als to saif thy-selff and thyne honoure,
For thi wourschip, þi witt, and thai valoure.”

The king ansurede, sais, “Ladie, for þi saik,
Betuix ȝour sonnys a trety sall I mak,
Sa that thai will, with thare ba[t]h [e]ris consent,
Submitt þe caus vnto my iugment,
And I sall bynd my persoun till hostage,
In falt of wtheris borrowis or trewage,
Till enter here agane be certane day,
Sa that I may now frelie pas away;
Or ellis I sall gar enter in þis place
King Alexander, to quhan sic feid he has,
Into this hall, withoutin mare cumpaney,
Bringand with him na ma na with me now haue I.”
Than callit the king þe brother now him before,

153

And tauld thame quhy þe caus and quharefore
It was nocht spedefull for þame sic debate,
“For it is wist, and all men will it wate,
That I am bot a man as wther ma,
And in ȝoure persoun suppois ȝe me sla,
It wilbe reput to ȝow welany;
And namly sen at bidding here come I,
For quhan a prince biddis a man cum him till,
Þocht he haue him at grete feid and ill will,
He has his surance in his hand all þan,
Suppois he war outlaw or banist man;
And namly quhan a man cummys in palais,
In castell, toun, or ony wallit place,
At bidding of þe lord or the lady,
He is assoverit of þe law forthy;
And as ȝe wate, ȝe wyn nocht bot feid,
And litill proffeitt may ȝow mak my dede,
And Alexander, and he be left on liffe,
Sall in ȝoure place revenge my dede belive.

“Bot will ȝe trowe my counsale and my rede,
Sen at Alexander ȝe haue sic fede,
Sa that I fynd ȝoure favoure and ȝoure grace,
I sall his persoun entir within þis place,
Disseverit quitlie fra his cumpaney,
Na ma persounys with him na now haue I.”
Caractor sais, “God gif I micht the traist,
And all thi wordis trew war and stedefast,
Thow sould be feistit here with sang and play
Quhill that thow lest, and syne ga fre away.”
Antigonus to thame his faith has plicht
To enter thare agane sevin nycht,
Or ellis into the mentyme he suld bring
Into thare presens Alexander the king,
“And with na ma men in his cumpaney
Bot [four-and-twentie] men, as now haue I.”

On þis cunand þi tuke his evedent,
And gart him swere þe gret aith or he stent,
That he suld treulie kepe that he had sade,
And tharevpone baith faith and treuth he lade;
And efter that þai stentit hallis in hye,

154

And Antegone thai festit ryallie.
The quene him lade and schew him hir tressoure;
Caractor purvayit Alexander for,
Sa did his wiffe, þe sister of King Porrus,
And grete giftis and iowellis gaif him till,
And syne convoyit till his cumpaney.
And send agane ane messinger in hye,
And said that he was fred of his promeis,
For Alexander in thare presence was,
And ete and drank into thare cumpaney
Foure dayis or five, and festit rayally,
And nane with him bot [four-and twentie] men,
And in the pallais waverand but and ben,
Sayand nane aw to blame him of his hicht,
For he had kepit all that he had hecht.

Bot quhan Caractor and his wiffe þat wist,
That thai had writtin þa[me-se]ll of þe [k]est,
In þare mynd grete murnying þare þai made.
Bot Alexander furthwith but mare abaid
Come to þe ciete, and tuke it in his handis,
And tuke obeysance hale of all þe landis,
And put Caractor and his wiffe away,
And hald thame in a stark dungeoun for ay;
And made Candeolus lorde of þat cuntre,
And restit him lang tyme in that ciete.
Bot for to tell of þat pallais þe price
And the richess, it passis my devise:
Hir chalmer ran on [four-and-twentie] quhelis,
Drawin quhare scho lest with oliphantis and camellis.
Syne tuke the king to purpois and av[i]se
To pas to the tempill to mak sacrefice,
And thare the quene and eik Candeolus,
Passand with the king to mak thare offerand thus.

Thare spak he with his fader, god Aymon,
Quhilk tald him all that he had doutit apoun;
Him tocht he saw him standand bodely,
Within ane clude, in habit rayally,
And conforte him, and bad him haue na dred—
Off all his conquest richt wele suld he spede,
Bot at the last, as all men, he most dee:

155

Thare is na man may chape that destany,
And bettir is to de in oure best plite
Na for to liff quhen honoure tint is quyte,
For quhen is hiest þe quhele, it mon turin,
And quhen þe man is richest, he will spurn—
Thare saw neuer man quhare God al withgan[g] send,
That euer the quhele stude evin sevene ȝere till end.
“Thow sall haue sevene ȝere to mak þi conquest,
And vther [seven] to veseit and to rest;
I spak with the in Libby on ane day—
God Seraphus spak with þe by þe way;
Thow sperit at me þe day of þi ending,
And quhay suld caus be of þi poysonying:
It is nocht Goddis will þat þow it witt—
Than wald thow sett the to putt lett in it;
And als, wist thow þe houre of þi ending,
Thow suld neuer haue ioy all þi living.
In Egipt thow hes foundit a fare stede—
Thare thow salbe erdit quhen thow art dede;
And of þi moder þat þow spred at me,
Trest wele a schamfull dede behuffis hir de,
And efter that scho be dede, dispulȝeit all,
And syne castin attoure the castell wall,
And this salbe for fede that men the aw;
Syne eftir, hundis sall hir banis gnaw.”
This ansuering made þe king on stere,
That to Candeolus he made no chere,
Bot drerely his leif has fra him tane;
Syne trumpit vp and to þe feild is gane.

Syne efterwart þai come in a cuntre
Was strate of craggis, þat ferly was to se;
It was sa hait nane mycht endure þe hete,
Quhare thare was distres baith of drink and mete,
Quhare thare was edderis of sic quantetie,
Thare bodyis mare na hors þatt we here se—
Sum flaw with wyngis and sum in craggis bred,
Quhilk day and nicht þe ost richt sare þame dred;
Thay slew mony, and mony of þame was slane,
And quhare thai fell, þe stynk did thame sic pane
That mony men þare dede ill tuke forthy,

156

For poysoun of þai dragouns quhare thai lay,
And in schorte tyme þare flesche was brynt away,
That men fand nocht bot banyis quhare þai lay.

The sonnys hete þare was sa vehement
Tha[t] had nocht cavis bene, thai had bene schent.
The king gart luke quhare that the banys levit,
And in the harne-pane of þe dragouns hewit
Off cocadrillis þai fand þe pretius stanis;
And als þe vertew of þi dragouns banys
Is mervelus, and of ane grete valoure
For the behuffe of mannis creature,
And als þe stanis þat callit ar smaragdinis,
Quhilk oure þe laif maist verteous and fyne is—
Thare thai stanis ar haldin of fer mare price
Na ony that growis in fludis of Paradise.
Thay dragouns þare sa felloun ar and fer,
And als thai fecht togidder euer-ilk ȝere,
Quhill sic ane multitude levis in þe feild,
Like woundit hors in batall that war keild,
And efter syne men gadderis vp þe banys
That thare is, and all the pretious stanis,
The quhilk is ane of þe gretest richess
That euer in that cuntre growand was.

Syne fand thai hartis, with tyndis all as steill,
Scharpe as a spere-hede that war grundin wele,
The quhilk was mekill of stature and of cors,
Fer mare na all þe bodyis of thare hors.
Syne fand thai foulis fleand in that cuntre,
Thare bodyis mekill as oxin þat we here se;
Thay had baith wyngis and fete, with leggis lang,
With talloun clukis, as blawing hornys strang—
Ane armit man þai wald bere to þare nest,
In everie cluke a mouttoun quhen þame lest.
The king tretit þe gydis þat with him was
That thai suld pas þe nycht and spy þe place
Quhare that thai biggit and thare nestis made,
And for to se gif that þi birdis hade,
And hecht thame riches, baith of gold and f[e]e,
For to bring him ane pare, or tua or thre:
The quhilk was done into þe said maner.

157

The king gart nuris thame and hald thame dere,
Gart turs thame into chareotis with him hame,
And feid thame curiously, and made þame tame;
And gart men vse þame anys everie day,
To mount vp in þe are and tak a pray,
Coupplit togidder with cordis be þe fete,
Ay foure and foure, ane space fra vþer mete,
Berand ane cage of tre, mad with a gyn
That ony man mycht sikkir sitt þarein,
And to be borne with thame into þe are
In ony land quhare that him lest repare;
And syne into the mydwart of þe gyn
Thare was ane spare sett vp þai foure betuene,
And on þat spare ane quarter of ane marte,—
At his lyking, quhile vp, quhile dounwart
He mycht it draw, to gif thame appetite,
Quhill of þe flewr þai had sic delite,
And ay wenand to gett it in þare mouth,
Thay flaw evin vp for it wa[s] ay be outh;
And quhen he was past vp at his liking,
He gart the flesche vnder þe cage hing,
That quhen thai saw þe flesche was drawand doun,
Syne dounwart efter it þai made þame boun—
And thus thai custmyit þame into thare ȝouthage.
Syne gart devise till him a subtell cage,
In maner eftir as we said before;
Syne ordanit all his purveance þarefore,
And till his counsale said, “It plesis me
Off all this warld þe cirkill for to se,
And all the quantetie of lenth and brede,”
Off quhilk þai war richt wa, and had grete dred
To pas with sic wyld foulis in þe are,
And syne to fall in land he wist nocht quhare,
Percais in handis of his innemeis—
Quha counsolit him þareto, þi war nocht wise.

Than ansurid he, and said, “My leigis dere,
Beis nocht dredand, bot blyith, and mak gud chere—
I am sa sikker of þir goddis all,
That gouernis me þat I sall neuer fall

158

Na be ourecmynyn with myne innemyis,
Na ȝitt ourethrawin in na kynd of wise,
Bot best and man boith sall me loif and lout,
And foule and fische sall me baith serue and dout.”
With that he gart mak chenȝeis stark and sle,
With quhilkis þe foure griffouns suld chenȝeit be,
And als þe cage quhilk turnit with a gyn;
And syne him-selff he put þe cage within,
And sett þe spete with flesche apoun þe end.
Quhen thai it saw, sone eftir þai ascend,
And montit vp wele hie into þe are.
The wedder was richt hate and wounder fare—
Quhen he come in þe hicht, he had grete thrist,
And als for hete almaist his ene outbrist;
He had ane spounge with vyne egre in his hand,
And ay apoun his visage was strekand.
Abone his hede þe scalis of cocadrill,
Quhilk brak the hete þat it come nocht him till,
In sic a wise þat it mycht nocht him greve;
And als he was intill ane gude beleve
That quhen he wald, he couth him sone discend,
For he the maneris of þe griffouns kend.

Quhen hie yneuch, as he tocht, he him feld,
He lukit vp and all the warld beheld,
And als þe sey and citeis vp and doun,
Baith hillis and wallis, castellis, toure and toun:
Him tocht the sey inviround all þe erde,
The quhilk of all þis warld is nocht þe ferd,
Bot as a mote was sett into þe sey,
And litill yneuch till a king till obey—
It semyt thareof litill quantetie,
With mony riveris rynnand in þe sey.
And syne he lukit doun to Macedone,
And syne to Grece, and syne to Babillone;
And syne he lukit est to Parradise,
Quhare woddis war and craggis richt hiddous.

To Paradise south by as he beheld,
Into the sey he saw ane hill of gold—
Off massy gold it semyt to be clene,
Agane the son as semely it couth schene;

159

The quhilk is callit Mons Auri varamant,
And thare salbe hyne to the Iugement,
For na man thareof may the bettir be—
Fra Paradise it standis out in þe sey,
Quhilk neuer mortell man mycht cum þareto,
Na neuer did, na neuer eft sall do.

Than he beheld the way quho he mycht pas
To Paradise, to se þat haly place,
For be goddis he had sum knawlege
That he sould be þare anys and tak trewage.
Quhen he had all our-sene and wesyit wele,
Baith se and land and cuntreis everie dele,
Him tocht Paradise was like to be
A mekill hill, a montane in þe se—
In the est end of all þis erde it standis,
And ferrer est beȝound is þare na landis;
Thare is na hill sa hie in all this erde—
The hiest hill hes nocht of hecht the ferd.

Syne he beheld þe grete desertis of Ynde,
Quhare he before wele pynist was and pynde;
Syne to the grete desertis of Arabye,
Quhilk strekis to þe hills of He[r]mony.
And in the myddis of all this erde þare was
Ane hiddouus forrest and a wildernes,
Ane vther betuix Grece and Tartary,
Apoun the north side, endlang be þe sey,
And ane betuix Egipt and Bibilon,
Endlang þe flude quhilk Egipt standis on,
Sa that him semyt þat half þe cuntre was
Bot craggis and hillis, woddis and wildernes,
Consedering þat fra Ynde to Paradise
Be the maist parte inhabitabill all is;
And everie land a sindry kynd of men,
Quhilkis be thare fassouns eith ar for to ken,
And by thare liffe, þare langage and thare law,
Quhilk till wtheris, as every man may knaw,
Off mervellus mak of corssage and vissage,
And fer mare mervellus of þare curage;
And almaist all standis be diuersite,
Off mak, of maner, of law and propirtie,

160

And mare like bestis war in thare liffing
For-be the Grekis war, in mekill thing.

Quhen he had sene at layser and avisit,
And his passage to Paradise devisit,
Than lete he doun þe flesche vnder þe gyn
That the foure griffounis cuplit war within;
Quhen thai that saw, þai discendit richt sone,
And euer he satt hingand in his trone,
In-till ane chire, quhilk quhare-sum-[euer] þai wend,
The hie was vp, and doun þe nether end.
Syne at the last, for gredenes of mete,
Apoun the hiest hill þat thai couth gett
Thay lichtit doun in-till a fer cuntre,
Quha[re] he was neuer, na nane of his menȝe,
And quhare he had na knawlege of na men,
Ten iornais fra þe place þat thai began.
And quhen the chenȝeis he decouplit had,
Intill his chire sittand still he bade
Quhill that the griffouns past war þare way;
And sone thai flaw about to seik thare prey—
Thay war sa famyst hoverand in þe are,
Thare was na fleschly thing þat þai wald spare,
Nother best nor man, noutheran on hope na hill,
Quhill thai of flesche anys had gottin þare fill.

The king was sa disgisit in his array,
He left the chire and past on his way,
That na man mycht him knaw quhat þat he was—
With swete for hete brukit was all his face.
His men gart follow þe griffounys on þe way,
And wend the king had bene vndone for ay;
Bot he that gouernit him full vertuously
Gat worthy gydis in þe land him by,
And gart thame throw he was of þat cuntre,
Sa wele þe langage of þe land had he.
Sone efter þat, apoun the auchtene day,
The duchsperis for the king had sic a fray
Thay send spiall oure all, baith fer and nere,
Bot na ken tythingis of him couth thai here.

The king had mekill [wit], and subtelus,
And euer quhare he come to ony place,

161

He gart men trow þat he was a merchand,
Quhilk tocht to pas into ane strang land;
And efter he sperit efter merchandise
Quhilk tuke in wþer landis gretest price,
For gold he hed apoun him for þe nanys:
Grete guidis he bocht, and payit þame all attanis,
And chargit camellis, mulis and dromoderis,
And for na gold to by gude ware he sparis,
And heryit men and factouris it to lede;
And throw the cuntre passit he gud spede,
For in thai landis merchandis hes gud chere—
Quhen thai pay wele, þai hald þame lyfe and dere.

Thus come he throw þe cuntre with blythnes
Quhill he come quhare his awne menȝe lugit was.
The lordis him knew within a litill stound,
And thankit God þat he was hale and sound;
And he thame comptit of his merchandise
That he had brocht, byith silk, wyne and spice,
With serpent banys and balmes of þe best,
And pretius stanis als of þe worthiast;
And tauld thame all the maner and þe wise
How he had sene the erde to Paradise,
And all þe regiouns and the wildernis,
The realmis, regiouns, and the gretest place,
And how this erde is bot ane litill thing,
And that it was bot liffing for a king.
And in his hart he copyit þe figure,
And syne gart draw it into portratoure,
And how the erde is of a figure round—
And thus was first payntit þe mappamond.

And syne he tald the lordis his devise,
How he purposit to pas to Parradise,
Till ask tribute or for till haue entre,
For sic knawlege be god Aymon had he;
Bot first he tocht the cuntre till ourepas,
Giff ony land war that rebelland was,
For all the gretest princes of þe land
War all conquest and bowand till his hand,
Bot onlie of þe landis of Babillon—
To quhome he send his messingeris anon,

162

To the Soudane, quhilk tocht him-self na page,
And als to the Ammerall of Cartage,
And chargand thame to mak him obedience,
Or schape thame for thare land to mak defence;
The quhilk the message fremmytlie tuk on hand,
Wenand thare wall suld be to thame werrand.
At quhilk ansure richt crabbit was the king,
To wesy thame syne tuke his purposing.

With that his batallis wele refreschit war—
Thay maid thame boun and trumpit vp but mare;
The ost was stuffit sa of gold and gere
That skantlie micht þare hors þe riches bere,
For mony ane for mycht and grete richess
Had left the ost and past hamewart was—
Fra he had hard þe ansure of þe tre,
Ane hundreth thousand had passit in þare cuntre,
And baid nane with him bot the gudelyeist,
Off tryit men in quhilkis he traistit maist,
Quhilkis war ynew to fulfill his devise,
For ȝitt he had ane hunder thousand twyis.

Thus passit thai furth into thare best maner,
Quhill at þe last thai fand a grete ryvere,
Baith fare and fresche, þat gudlie was to se,
Quhilk was a myle of brede, or twa, or thre,
And gudly folk alsua and vertewabill.
In warld was neuer fische mare delictable.
The women war richt fresche and passand fare,
And plesance tuke men of thare repare,
That or the king partit out of that stede,
Ane thousand men throw thare delite war dede.
Thare was na brig to pas oure þat revere,
And fra thame fled away was þe navire;
The king studyit how he mycht gett passage—
Sa he aspyit growand in þe rivage
Off redis holl ane huge quantetie,
Quhilkis as the maist of ship war grete and hie,
Quhilkis he gart hew and mak thame to þe flottis;
And als made of þame pranys, schippis and botis,
To pas his ost withoutin ony sturt,
And all thare folk withouttin harme or hurt

163

That flude past westwart to þe Sey Oxiane:
And on it stude þare citeis mony ane,
Quhilkis quhen thai harde þat Alexander was þare,
Thay bowit all till his bidding, les and mare.

Sa come þai in a land of þat cuntre
Quhare women was of sic a quantetie,
Thay war of ten or t[w]alf fute, be þe leist;
Thay war wele made and fare at all behest,
Thay war baith fare, rede and quhite, of fare attyre,
Tha[re] hare ȝellow, lokkerand as goldin wyre.
And in ane vther ille was nere thareby,
The pigmeneanis, quhilkis had thre fute skantly;
Bot thai war wounder subtell of ingyne—
Thay wrocht the claithis of gold and silk maist fyne.
The king send for þe sortis baith to se;
The tane beside þe tother stand gart he—
Thay war baith wounder wele made and at devise,
And in thare law and liffing baith richt wise.
The king wald thole na man do þame grevance,
Bot gaif thame giftis and did thame grete plesance.

Syne come he in ane land of grete riches,
Quhare mony mychtie pepill wonnand was;
Thay had a king was callit Calamyne,
Martyneanis was þe pepill callit syne—
Thay had a citie of riches mervellus,
With mony pepill cruell and perrellus.
The king send messingeris to thame sone,
Bad thame obey as all the laif hes done,
And send him of thare wise men foure or five—
He suld baith saif thare landis and thare liffe;
And wald thai nocht, þare citie he wald ta,
Thare gudis als, and eik thame-seilvin sla.
That wald thai nocht, bot send ane diffiance,
Sayand thai kepit nocht for his arrogance,
And bad him cum gif he it spedfull tocht—
Thay suld him mete als fast as euer he mocht,
In cumpaney of tua hundreth thousand,
For to defend thare lordschip and thare land.

Than Alexander efter that na sudiour[n]e made,
Bot to þe feild he past but mare abade;

164

He was ay blyth quhan to þe batall past he,
For he wist wele he suld neuer vincust be.
Thay strak togidder, þe stoure was stout and strang,
The batale faucht richt stoutly and richt lang,
Bot at the last þe king was þe victure,
And of thare folkis he slew doun all þe floure,
And tuke thare king and sesit him presonere,
With mony ane haltane knicht and bachiller.
It was part of þe boundis of Babillon,
Quhilk made þame proude, þare traist was þare-apoun;
Grete multitude thare was baith tane and slane
And chaist away, þat few past hame agane.

With that the king in haist past to þe toun,
And for to se þe cite made him boun;
And fand the portis standand wide in twyn,
And wend that thare had bene na man left þarein,
And, for his hors was maist spedy and traist,
Into þe toun he made entre formaist,
And with him enterit but a few menȝe.
Quhen thai war in, þi cryit, “Wele gaing ȝe!”
With that the porte-culis thai lete doun fall,
And mony worthy man ȝede to þe wall;
Syne come apoun him sic a multitude,
Quhilk slew his men about him quhare he stude,
That of ane hunder þi left nane bot five,
That he was neuer sa stede in all his live.
He lichtit doun and tuke him to his fute,
And prayit his goddis þat þi wauld be his bute;
Thay drew about him as scheip dois in a fald,
Bot [he] that was baith wicht, hardy and bald,
Defendand him sett his bak to ane wall,
And felloun straikis lete amange þame fall.
Thare was na armying mycht his strakis stynt.—
Sa lichtlie laid he on þame dynt for dynt
That oft-tymes tua with a strake of his hand
He f[el]d, that nane agane his strake mycht stand:
Sa tyk the dede men lay into þat place
That na man mycht cum nere him quhare he was.

Quhen that thai saw þare folk sa freschely falȝede,

165

Than tuke thai schote and newlingis him assalȝeid.
Than was the douȝesperis all without þe toun,
And for to gif þe assalt þai made þame boun,
Sum with ledder, sum schotte, and sum with myne,
Sum cast of stane, sum gvn, and sum engyne;
With that about him come thare mony ane,
That wele ane thousand faucht with him allane,
Off quhilk he wan þe floure of victory,
And chaist thame all, and slew of thame mony.
With that þe mynouris persit had the wall,
And brak the portis and lete þe ost in all.
Tha[n] sade all men þat þis mycht neuer be
Bott God had bene in his helpe and supplie.
Syne was þe citie tane richt suddantly,
And castyn doun and distroȝeit vterlie,
And als þe king led presonere away,
And syne þe guidis amange thame partit thay.

Sone eftir that, þai trumpit vp to ga
Vnto a citie quhilk callit was Ambina,
Quhare þai purvayit þare for þare estate.
Thay schote at thame þe springaldis birnand hate—
Off all thare schote þai poisound ay þe hede,
Quhare-euer þai hitt þare was na dome bot dede,
Quhill of his men sa mony thai had slane,
Quhill thay retrayed þame [fra] þe feild agane.
The king was wa, he wist nocht quhat to do,
And sacrefice he made his goddis to,
And of his fortoun counsale at þame sperde:
And in þe nycht a man till him apperde,
And bad him be of gude conforte and chere,
He sould that ciete wyn withoutin were;
And gaif him syne ane herbe in-till his hand,
Bad him gar men it seik quhare þai it fand,
And ony man that hurt war with poisoun,
But drede, that herbe suld be þare warisoun.

This was the god Aymon, his fader dere,
Quhilk conforte him, and gart him mak gud chere,
Quhilk bodely spak with him into þe nycht,
Sayand he suld be with him in þe ficht.
And on the morne þe citie to þai past,

166

And gaif it assalt, and tuke it at þe last,
Na neuer man he tynt of his menȝe,
And of that citie mony ane gart dee;
And furthwith quhan a man was strikin doun,
That herbe þame helit sone of þat poisoun,
And mony quhilkis war woundit of before,
Thare hele agane þat herbe gart thame restore.

Than all the land obeyit þame halely
Vnto his wand and till his seingȝory.
Thus all the regioun dounwart conquest he
Fra that river to Sadoch in þe se:
The land of Sadoch is ane grete regioun,
All sett about with mony worthy toun,
And thare reparis þe floure of merchandise,
Quhilk cummys fra Ynde and doun fra Paradise;
It standis in þe south sey southwart,
And Litill Ynde declynis to that parte;
It is sa strang it wald to nane obey,
For it is all about invirounid with the sey—
The Greik Sey inclosit all the tua parte,
The Rede Sey metis it in ane vþer arte;
And thus it is all closit with sey about,
That of nane inemyis þai had na dout.
Bot [Alexander] tocht wele it to wyn,
Na wauld neuer ceis quhill he war anys þarein,
And to þe Rede Sey passit he in hye,
Quhare that the barnis of Israll passit dry,
Out-throw desertis, craggis and woddis wylde,
Quhen Herode out of Egipt þame exild,
Quhare thai resauit him with grete estate—
Thame tocht it was na bute to mak debate.

He feistit thare with mekill ryaltie,
And ay betwene disporte him on þe se;
Sa he beheld the fische that was hiddous,
Off quhalis and hiddounys mare na ony hous,
And how thai made ilkane to vther were,
And of þe land thare mycht na man thame dere;
And tocht in-till his hart how mycht he be
Lord of the warld bot he war of þe sey,
And tocht how he micht to þe fische mak were

167

In-to the sey, and na fische him to dere;
And send for men of craft þe worthiest
Off all that land, and eik the subtillest,
And thare devisit to mak ane tvn of glas,
Off tewich metall þat on-brekabill was,
Quhilk be arte of magice fundin had
Wourthy Platoun, quhilk gart it first be made,
And sic ane tempir gaif thai till it thare,
It was vnbrekabill, as vther metall war.
And syne ordand ane chalmer for to ma
Off that metall, bundin with chenȝeis twa,
And armit all about with speris of steill,
Off thre fadome, and grundin scharp and wele,
Richt as ane hurchoun fensit all about,
That of na fische in warld he hed na dout.
It was baith stark and sture and made for lest,
That for na waw na wedder it wald brest;
It was sa clere it had yneuch of sicht
Wnder the wattir, baith be day and nicht.
Ane opyn went abone it couplit had,
Quhilk was of ledder like ane chenȝie made,
And borne with bollis fletand on þe flude—
How-euer the wynd was, ay it wpwart stude.
And put in it victall for dayis thre,
And couplit it to schippis in þe sey,
And syne gart synk it [fer] fra ony land,
Quhare maist of hiddouus fische war reparand;
And tuke with him in fallowis tua or thre,
For to persaue the secretis of þe sey,
For he wist wele þare suld na dede him dere,
Nowther into tyme of pece na into were,
Nowther be antir na be inemye,
Quhill of þis erde he had þe hale maistrye.

And quhen he doun vnder þe wattir was,
Foure schip rade on ankir on þe place,
Quhilk ilkane had ane capill him to wey,
To draw him the thrid day of þe sey.
Bot thare the mervellis þat he said he saw,
Thare is na man bot he wald stand grete aw
For to here tell the huge quantetie

168

Off fische that ar wadand vnder the sey,
For as beistis here waveris in þe are,
Sa in þe sey the fische makis thare repare,
And on þe ground thai gang fechtand togidder,
And ilkane chaissand vther hiddir and tidder—
And euer elike þe mare etis þe les,
And euer sall do, and euer before tyme was.
Sic fische he saw þat it was tere to tell,
Quhilk, had nocht bene þat he it saw him-selff,
He micht neuer throw þat euer God of Nature
He made in erde sa huge a creature,
For thai war mare like to be hillis he,
Of grete montanis, or craggis in þe sey,
Na for to be ane thing þat beris live;
Had he nocht sene ilkane with wther strive—
And evere kynd will to thare nature draw,
And of ane nature standis ane vther aw,
And quhilk of þame that may the maistry haue,
He and his fallowis etis vp all the lave—
And fra the maist vnto the lest degre,
Sic is the law and custumye of þe sey.
Als in þe are þe foulis dois richt sua—
Quhen þai want fude, ilkane will vther sla,
And euer the mare has maistry of þe les.
Als in þis erde sa is it of riches:
Quhat ferly is than þat riche man wald be
Maister of þe laif þat ar in law degre,
Sen God and Nature ordand has it sua.
Him tocht that men þarte suld to thame ta,
Giff that thai mycht be maisteris oure þe laid—
Thay ar worth lordschip þat lordschip sa can haue.

And had nocht bene his grundin pykis of steill,
He traisti[t] it had nocht standin with him wele,
For he saw thame þare suelly in þat place
Fer greter morcellis na his chawmer was.
The glas quhaireof was made his habitakil
Was far clerere na glas of a spectakill,
That his sicht in þe sey was alsa clene
As thare richt nocht before his sicht had bene;
Men sall nocht knaw þe glass into thai landis,

169

In thare werk, quhill thai fele it with thare handis—
That metall sa clere is and sa fare,
It lattis na mare þe sicht than dois þe are.

Thus Alexander, quhan he had all assayit,
And of his viage held him wele appayit,
He turnit vp agane in the mane-land,
To se gif ony ma was rebelland;
And ay on Babillone his mynd he had,
And hidder tocht he to draw but mare abade.
Bot sindrie anteris happinyit him by the way,
Quhilkis in this buke all coimpt we na may,
Bot of þe gretest and the maist mervellus
Quhilkis him befell, and the maist perrellus.

His messingeris was cummyne fra Cartage
Fra the Ammerall, quhilk grantit him trewage,
Sayand quhen-euer he come into that land
He suld cum sone and make him leig and band.
The grete Sowdane also of Babillone
Saw that thare was na land bot his allone
Bot thai had made him all obedience,
Or thai had hecht to cum to his presence,
Bot gyffin it war wylde folk in wildernes,
Quhilkis nowtherane witt na governance has;
And traistit thare was nane þat wald rebell
Till his persoun, sic fortoun to him fell,
That with his goddis tuke he his avise
That he wald pas and vesie Parradise,
For sen it was in erde and on dry land,
Bot gif it war till his crovn obeysand
He micht nocht call him maister of all þis erde,
Quhilk war a want of filling of his werde.

And chesit vp ane certane of cumpaney,
Ten thousand tryit men or nere thareby:
Throw Mekill Ynde to pas he purposit thus,
Throw a cuntre was callit Terre Mervellus,
The quhilk cuntre is nerrest Paradise,
Quhare mekill gold and riches growand is;
Bot mony kynd of strange folk he fand,
And mony realmes, or he come to that land.

Thare is [m]a kingis in Ynde, as I persu[m]e,

170

Na thare is now in-till all Cristindome:
Off Cristin kingis in Grece þare is bot sevin,
In Italy and Spenȝe bot elevin;
[Threttene] thare suld be into Germanie,
For euery duchare þare a king suld be;
In France and in þe illis of þe west
Thare suld be sevin, be þame þat wate it best:
Thare is now foure in France vnder a crovne,
Quhilkis in auld tymes was in divisioun;
In Scotland, Ingland and till Irelandis,
Thre kingis war, as men vnderstandis—
Thus in all Cristin land þare is nocht bot fourty,
And till Ynde thre skore and ma thareby,
Quhilkis haldis now at Prester Johnnys fay,
And Cristin folk be ressoun call we may.
Sen thai trow in Johnn and ar baptist,
Thay suld be ressoun bere þe name of Criste—
Crist sayis, “Quha baptist is, and trowis in me,
Withouttin ony dout þa[i] savit be.”
Bot thai and Grece has mekill defference
Fra oure haly Pape and his obedience,
For thai ar of ane bustuous kynd of men,
That litill can, and covatis nocht to ken;
For pride and riches quhilkis growis in þare regiouns,
Thay dedenȝe nocht to kepe oure oppiniouns,
Bot we dred sare þat dampnit all thai be,
Saifand the will of Goddis private;
Bot sen thai trow in God and oure Lady,
Ȝitt mone we favoure þame mare hartfully,
For we traist all, and in oure faith we hald,
To be bot ane schepehird and ane fald,
Quhare Cristis folk sall all assemblit be,
And all this differance bring in vnite,
And hald all a faith to þe Day of Dome,
And all be savit throw faith and Cristindome,
Suppois þis twich nocht to the principall
Off my purposis, it may do na tynsale,
Bot as to diuers kynde of bustuous men,
Quhilkis na gude can, na nane wald lere na ken.

171

To Paradise the thre Yndis ar nerrest,
Bot mekill of þame is wildernes and waist,
Baith craggis and woddis, as we said oft before,
Quhare is nowther cattell, corne, na store;
Weil fourty iournayis is of wildernes,
Quhare neuer man gat harbrie in na place
Bot gif thai war of sa hie gouernance
That thai brocht with thame all thare purveance.
Tha[n] Alexander throw-out of þe cuntre past,
Quhill he come to the waist land at the last,
And throw-out by the landis of Terre de Dee,
Quhare with the treis before spokin had he,
The quhilk is in the mydwart of Ynde land,
Mare drawand to þe soith na the north hand,
Quhare maist plentie of oliphantis growis,
And gold and pretius stanis maist conflowis.
Nere-by thare was þe land of pigmeanis,
Quhilkis, as we said, makis were aganis þe cranis;
In that cuntre ar hillis mervellus:
In-till ane regioun quhilk is callit Cassus
Thare is ane hill quhilk Mont Austra is callit,
That to the hicht skant may a man behald.
Ane vther regioun past he throw alsua,
The quhilk to name is callit Segorida;
Ane vther realme is callit Pocalyn,
Quhilk wele and graciously resauit him—
And all thir realmes þat we speik of þus
Ar all in Ynde and in Terre Mervellus.

Ane vther cuntre was callit Assurie,
Quhilk strekis vnto þe [ille] of Femynee;
Ane vther cuntre, callit Icircola,
Strekis southwart towart Babilone alsua;
Ane vther cuntre was callit Albodyne,
Syne efter Sirosis and Sandanyn—
Betuix the fludis that cummys fra Paradise
The devisioun of þir thre Yndis is,
And all thir regiouns þat þe buke of spekis
In thai cuntreis betuix þe fludis strekis.
Syne past he throw a land callit Rybotee,
Quhilk merchit sidlingis with Terre de Dee,

172

Quhare tempill Diane and the palace ryall was—
The reuuere callit the Son thare passand was.
Ane regioun thare quhilk callit is Crassinkynis,
The hede of Ynde, and to the south inclynis,
And strekis to the grete ile of Sadoch,
Quhare kepit was fra Pharon Goddis flok;
Syne efterwart is ane yle is callit Agor,
Syne Terra Perdica is thare before,
Ane yle lyis eistwart on-to Paradise,
In the Greik Sey a space fra Sadoch lyis.

Quhen he was in þi landis cummuyne sua,
He studeit him quhat gait that he wauld ga
To Paradise, be wattir or be land,
For fra thyne furth þare was na folk duelland,
And na thing bot wylde beistis þare was,
With craggis and clewis, woddis and wildernes;
With [that] the erde was vp agane sa stay,
And nowther was þare passage, rod, na way,
Bot he montaingȝeis, craggis and forrest,
With liouns, dragouns, griffouns and wylde beist,
And all the way na freche watter þat gud is,
Bot it that come doun rynnand in þe fludis,
The quhilk, becaus þai ran sa fast on hede,
The wattir was all strublit thik and rede;
And als þe hete sa grete was, but mesure,
It sla wald ony [erdly] creature;
And all the folk said him of þat cuntre
That bettir was to pas vp be þe se,
And doun agane to Sadoch for to ga,
Or till Agor or Terra Perdica,
And schip in thare and be þe sey to pas,
Les perrellus and les doutable was.

Than tocht he till him-self a litill, and smylde:
“Gif I suld leif for drede of beistis wylde,
For hete, for hunger, or for craggis hie,
For radoure leif þe land and tak the sey,
Than war I nocht of all erde conquestoure,
Na wourthy to be callit ane emprioure,
And namly in the last of my conquest—
To wyn honoure þan suld I governe best.”

173

That nycht he woik in-til his palȝioun,
And made his prayaris to ȝe god Aymon,
And to þe god of Egipt, Seraphus,
To Iubbiter, Appollo and Marthus,
And askit þame counsale and conforting,
How he suld bring to purposis all this thing.
That nycht the god Aymon till him apperd,
And in his hand betaucht till him a swerde,
And all þe way he could till him devise,
The quhilk that Adame come fra Paradise;
And bad him tak þat swerd intill his hand,
And sidlingis by the ryver hald the land,
And tak with him wrichtis that subtell ware,
With all thare wirkin limmys, les and mare,
To mak ane schip quhen he come to a glen,
Off quhilk the takinnys he teichit him to ken:
Quhen he come thare, ane schip gar mak bad he,
In quhilk thare sould na kynde of irne be;
And t[a]ke with him ane hundreth oliphantis,
The best betaucht quhilkis men to batall dantis,
And gar þame draw þat schipe endlang þe flude;
And gif the gate for treis agane þame stude,
With tymmer-men gar hew þe wod away;
And said thare suld na wylde beist to thame dere,
Nor suld haue nede of wapin, scheild, na spare,
Bot tak with him ane sorte of worth knichtis,
And hald thame ay in prayer, day and nychtis,
And leif his menȝe doun in þe meane-land;
And bad for nane þat he suld be dredand,
Ger oliphantis bere victuale at fusoun,
For he suld se na thing bot venysoun,
Bot foule fleand and fische in þe ryvere,
And rynnand wattir, strublit and nocht clere;
And him gar turs baith tvnnys and vther veschell,
To hald the wattir in quhill that it war stale,
And latt it stand ane nycht to stale vnsterde,
Syne bettir wattir was nane into þis erde.

All þis was done as he him counsalit hade,
And made his ordinance but mare abade;
Thare with þe ost he levit Ptholome,

174

And Duke Emenedoun with him tuke he,
Dauclyn, Arrestes, Cauloun and Perdicas—
The laiff to kepe þe ost doun levit was.
With him ane hunder knychtis gud and sure—
The warst was worth to be ane empreoure—
With thare seruandis to governe þare victale,
And alkyn officeris of governale
Quhilkis nedfull war and spedefull for to haue,
And with the cumpaney left all þe laif.
And on þe morne tymely þai made þame boun,
And passit furth with grete devotioun
The way that Adame come fra Paradise,
Richt as þe god Aymon had made devise.

Bot for to say the mervellus þat he saw,
How [g]ryffis and dragouns in þe forrest flaw,
Ilkane at vther schuttand flauchtis of fyre,
Quhilkis to behald it was a grete mater—
Thare saw he dragouns werand hornes lang,
The quhilkis war mekill as oxin, grete and lang,
And sum with fire and venoun slaw þe dere
To thare awne mete, and made thareof gud chere;
Syne saw he dragouns fleand ane grete menȝe,
With foure wyngis and hedis tua or thre—
Thare bodeis war of fivetene fute and mare,
Quhilkis glitterand oure of diuers cullouris war;
Thare craggis war lang tua ellyn gude, and mare,
Thare hornes war like to ram hornis þat þai bare,
The quhilkis war fechtand with the vnicornis,
Quhilkis stikit mony serpentis with þare hornes
Wnder þe wame—þe bak þai micht nocht dere:
Thare baikis war armit with skalis for þe were;
And of þai dragouns quha þame mycht haue had,
Off g[ol]d a kingis ransoun micht haue made,
For all hir banis and hir skalap-schellis,
Hir teicht, hir toung, hir clukis and hir fellis,
Thay ar sa pretius into merchandise
Thare is na man can sett þame to richt price;
The ene in-till hir hede war pretius stanis,
And sindrie vertewis had baith skyn and banis;
Hir ene lemyt as lantern in þe nicht,

175

That quhare scho passit, þai made hir-selff a licht.

Thay saw beistis quhilk aucht fute on þame had,
Wer mekill and grete, and wounder ferly made,
And alsua mony ene had in þare hede,
Off sindry hewis, blak, grene and rede,
And harnys likest till ane ram had thai;
Thay ran sa fast, na beist ouretak thame ma.
Syne in ane ile þai saw beȝound þe flude
Ane herde of hidduous beistis quhare thai stude:
Thay war of [thretty] fute of lenth, and mare,
And lang, lokerand and hingand was thare hare,
And maist till hors þai war like of þare mak,
Richt as a hors sa bowand was þare bak.
All kynd of beist þat men vauld here devyne,
Baith apis and beris and wolfis and wylde swyne,
Thay war sa grete, and of sic quantetie,
Mare na ar here, þat mervell war to se:
The wylde cattis þai ar mare na wolffis here,
And thare wolfis gretare na ony dere,
And richt sa all kyn foulis of all fassoun
Ar mare na ouris, without comparisoun.
Thare war beistis quhilkis leggis had richt lang
And wounder grete, and brawnys had richt strang,
And all thare body schorte was of þe schene,
Like till ane troll þat of a lynke had bene,
Ane litill hede, vnder þe hals a lap,
And mekill fete like till ane hors of schap.
Thus fourty dayis he was in travelling,
And be the way saw mony frelie thing,
And ay him tocht he passit vp agane,
That beist and man was irkit of þare pane;
Quhill at the last he come nere-hand þe place
To mak the schip quhare þat he ordand was,
And gart the wrichtis hew tymmer, and devise
To mak thare schip to pas to Paradise;
The graith all reddy brocht with him had he—
Thare suld na nale be in it bot of tre.

The schip was made, and all thingis wele avisit
Richt as þe god Aymon had devisit;
The oliphantis war couplit to þe draucht,

176

And everie man his saule to God betaucht.
He tuke nane with him bot Dauclyne and Tholome,
And victuale for day[i]s twa or thre;
And all the laif he left into that place,
Bot thame to red þe way that ordand was;
With thame als þe oliphantis draif,
And on þe land he gart leif all þe laif.
Quhen thai come nere þat thai þe place mycht se,
It was sa huge, mervellus and hie,
And eik it was sa plesand and sa fare,
Sa temperit and sa sobir was þe are,
And quhare before was woddis and wildernes,
Na thing bot frute and flouris and spicis was;
The craggis all endland þe ryver sydis,
The treis of balme þe gletand gold oure-hydis,
The flouris ferly fare war on þe fold,
The craggis mellit war off messy gold;
Thare was na cloude na strublance in þe are,
Bot soft and swete þe wedder was, and fare—
That place to se þai tuke sa grete delite
That fra þare-selff þai war sa revist quyte
That of nane erdly thing þai tuke na kepe,
Bot all his seruandis soundly fell on slepe.

The way was wyde, þe wallis war richt hie,
That skantlie to the crope mycht na man se;
The passage throw þe quhilk þe flude come doun
Was like a postrum of a wallit toun,
Bot it was mekill, and of grete quantetie,
And quhare it fell, it was like to þe se.
The revere, that was brade and depe and clere,
Was neuer mare fare in well na in ryvere;
It stude ay depe as loch, and ran nocht fast,
Richt fra þe place þat in þe schip he past.
Thay saw nowther porte na postrum na entre,
Bot kirnellis on þe wall þat was sa hie—
Than was he mare abaissit na before,
For tocht he had of ledderis twentie skore,
And cupplit all togidder in a lyng,
Thay suld nocht reik vp to the kirnelling.
Thare culd nocht knaw þat thare was ony nycht,

177

For euer as day þe son was fare and bricht.
The king was nocht in habit ryall thare,
Bot as a send of Alexander he ware;
In-till his schip thre dayis þare he lay,
And euer in prayaris, bayth be nycht and day,
For he wist wele in his power na was
To gett nane ansure of þat haly place,
Na fynd the way to past vp to that hicht,
Bot gif it war throw grace of God almycht.

Than slepit he, [as] all man-kynd man do,
And in his slepe god Aymon come him to,
And bad him draw his schip to wallis nere,
And [hald] him in deuotioun and prayer,
And ask that thai wald tribute till him bring
Off Paradise, for Alexander the king,
And teicheit him in quhat kynd of langage
That he suld ask þame tribute and trewage,
And bad him say his maistere was nocht here,
Bot Tholome, quhilk was his messingere.
The king walkinyit, and did as he him bad,
And sone the schip was to þe wallis laid.
The king satt on his kneis in praying—
The wattir grew vp to þe kirnelling,
And bare the schip vp to þe wallis hie.
(He had put furth Dauclyne and Tholome,
And in þe schip na[ne] left bot him alane,
And thus-gate to the wallis is he gane.)
And quhen he was vpliftit in þe are,
Than he beheld the regioun þat was fare,
And all the cuntre bakwart to the west;
And in þe sey on side his sicht he kest,
And saw the goldin crage þat stude it by,
Off massy gold schinand sa gloriusly;
He saw the cirkill of Paradise about,
Quhilk closit is all with þe sey, withoutin dout,
All but ane threid þat ansueris to þe land
Quhare that the fludis foure ar out flowand.
The wallis war rouch and all ourecled with grene,
Off spice and balmes and gold schynand betwne;
He saw the foure fludis quhilkis flowand war

178

Out of þat stede, and sall do euermare—
Ilkane semyt fra vther legis ten,
Quhilk fra the mont ilkane past in a glen;
Betuix the fludis, froyit and flouris fare,
Bot erdle men þare mycht nane thare repare,
The landis sa strate war risand vp sa hie,
And of vnbeistis sa huge ane quantetie,
Na na repare na way to cum na ga,
Bot he quhilk throw þe will of God come sua.

The place within is mekill and spacius,
And all þe land about sa gracious,
Sa plesand and delectabill for to se,
Suppois a man þare tuentie ȝere suld be,
He vauld nocht think it tuentie dayis lang,
For sic a melody of birdis sang,
With all plesance þat mannis witt mycht think,
That thame lest nocht of vther mete and drink,
That quhen that thai thre dayis thare had bene,
Thai tocht thai had bot cummyn ȝist[re]ne.
Than Alexander in sprete sa revist was,
He vauld richt fane haue bene within þe place,
Bot that wald neuer be, of na kyn wise;
Sen at the last he callit in twise or thryis,
And askit tribute to þe emprioure
Quhilk of þis erde all-hale is conquerioure.
With that ane angell to the wall couth cum,
Said, “Alexander, here art þow richt welcum—
For thai tribute ane apill here I the gif;
And think that þow has schorte tyme for to liff,
And kepe it wele, quhan þow cummys hame, it wey—
It sall turne hewe quhat tyme þat þow be fey.
Thow sall nowther cum into þis place, na luke;
Fare wele,” he said—with that his leif he tuke.

The wattir wanyt, þe schip devalit doun;
He walkinyt vp his men, and made þame boun.
Thay passit doun withoutin mare abade
Vnto the place quhare that the schip was made.
Thai left the schip and tuke þame to þe land—
Than thre moneth thai had bene passand—

179

And syne to þe meane-land þai come agane,
Off quhilkis þe lordis war richt wounder fane,
Sayand, “Velcum, oure lorde and oure governoure—
Now may we say þow art hale emprioure
Off all þis erde, sen we haue suth knawlege
That Paradise hes ȝeldit þe trewage.”

Thay trumpit vp with ioy, and furth þai ga,
And tocht that þai wald se of mervellus ma,
And pas to Babilone ane wther way,
And vesyit landis quhilk ȝitt nocht sene haue þai.
Quhen thai come fra þe Pillar of Hercules,
Thai fand of folk þat wounder ferly was:
Sum hedles, and thare mouth in þare breist,
Sum bot ane e in myddis of þe forehede neist,
Sum hade the hedis like doggis and sum like swyne,
And beistis als quhilk fete had aucht or nyne,
And in thare hede had alsa mony ene—
Bot in that cuntre before he had neuer bene.
Than throw thai landis þare he passit hale,
And saw sic men and mony grete mervell—
Thai war gyandis, of [sixtene] fute of lenth,
And sturdy men and sture, and of grete strenth,
And be the caus thai war of gyant kynde,
Thai slew all doun that thai mycht of thame find.
Than said the king, “Þis is mervell to me,
That sic ane pepill in þis gude land suld be,
For gude men suld be ay quhare the gude land is,
And for to big and laboure with þare handis,
And ill pepill suld be in ill cuntre,
In craggis, covis, and illis in þe se;
Me think the landis ill departit was—
Maist wikkit pepill maist welth of riches hes.
And I may leiff, it sall nocht be þus lang—
I sall mak ȝitt ane viage þame amange
And I mycht anys be lorde of Babilone,
That to conclude, and tak my latest croun;
Syne sall I vesy all þe hale cuntre,
Fra Paradise vnto þe Occiane Se,
And all to put in graith and gouernale,
Ger polecy and law be kepit hale.

180

“Off all this erde þare suld be bot a king,
That all mycht ansure to a gouernyng,
For sindry kingis sindry wittis hes,
And sindrie wittis grete devisioun mais,
And ilkane wald be oure ane vthir lorde,
And thus may landis neuer lang tyme accorde;
And þus for covatus of king to king,
The commoun proffitt is put in perissing—
Bot war thare a king þat war kyndly wise,
He mycht þis warld all gouerne be iustice.”

And as thai cumand throw þe cuntre was,
Out-throw ane cuntre callit was Lages,
The pepill come before him halely,
And welcumnyt him and bare him cumpaney.
Syne in ane land quhilk Tertes callit is
Ane foule to him was present, as I wis,
Quhilk as ane hauk was borne on mannis hand;
And sic ane wertew was hir followand
That quhen scho saw ane seik man þat wald de,
Scho turnit hir hede and wald neuer on him se,
And suld he liff and haue na dout of dede,
With blayth chere scho wald turin about hir hede.
Syne come [thai] to þe landis of Albany,
Ane regioun quhilk of men war richt mychty,
Quhilk vther tymes made him obedience,
Quhilkis him resauit with grete excellance.
Syne in a realme was callit Saladyne,
A mychtie cuntre þat was Baktrum cald,
Was nere Sadoch, quhilk I before of tald;
Syne fundit thare a citie wounder strang,
And made gude chere, and restit him wele lang.

Thare by he fand ane place of Exerceis,
Quhilk in his tyme ane emprioure worthy was;
Into that place ane lordis son fand he,
Quhais fader was a prince of grete degre,
The quhilk the croun renuncit and forsuke,
And till ane liffe contempla[t]i[f] him tuke;
And all þe statis þat he mycht of here
Removit him nocht, na gart him change his chere,
Bot late and are into the tempill stude,

181

And warly tuke him bot his lyvis fude.
And quhen the king come þare, he send him for,
And sperit at him þe caus quhy and quharefore
He wald nocht tak his croun na gouernale—
It war his will þat he war lorde alhale,
And nocht to do to him bot feuta,
And kepe his dewiteis and lawte.
He ansured sayand he had begun ane thing
Quhilk, mycht he bring it till ane gude ending,
He suld the croun tak at his ordinance,
And reule syne be him al his gouernance.
Than sperit he quhat kin a thing it was:
Tha[n] said he, “Thare was erdit in this place
All my foirbearis and my fader dere,
And all thare banis I watt ar liand here;
And I haue sett my besines to ken
To knaw thare banis by banis of sempill men,
And thareon haue I studyit mony a day;
And be þe caus þat knaw thame I na may,
I can nocht witt quhat proffittis me gentreis,
Sen all man-kynd to God is of a price;
And sen I watt sa schorte quhile I mon bide,
I watt nocht efter quhat sall me betide,
Na quhare to gang, na in quhat cuntre,
And for my dede man sare accusit be.
Than sall I tak þe leist charge þat I may—
The les I tak, þe les I bare away.”
The king saw that he was inclynit sua,
Made his brother king, and lete him ga.

[S]yne come [thai] in a land of Terre de Dee,
Quhare housis war all of [a] quantetie,
And all in like grete maisteris in þe toun,
And livit be all thing in ane liffe commoun.
Than Alexander disgisit him to se
How iustice in þat land mycht kepit be,
And in thare pretore passit on a day,
Quhare-in thare commoun iustice kepit þai.
Sa was thare ane quhilk movit a questioun
Aganes ane vther burges of þe toun,
Sayand that he had bocht fra him a land

182

Quhare vnder erde ane hurde of gold he fand,
Quhilk was nocht his, na of it wald he nocht,
For anerly the ground fra him he bocht.
This tother part ansurid on þis wise:
“I sald the ground with all riches as it lyis—
Quhat ressoun is that I suld tak agane
That I haue sald, and all my payment tane?”

The tother said Na, for his intentioun
Suld be accept, efter the law commoun,
“For my ententioun was nocht for to by
The hurde þareof—till it na richt haue I.”
The tother said, “That rynis nocht to me,
For I sald nocht bot þat was myne to the,
And gif ocht was þare[i]n hid prively,
It mycht neuer be myne conquest richtwisly.”
The tother said, “I mycht wele fall, percase,
That ȝoure forebearis hyderis of it was;
Thus, sen it is movit of ȝoure parrage,
Me think it suld be ȝouris of heretage.”
The tother said, “That is ane douttous thing,
For gold will lest richt lan[g] in-till hurding—
Percase that gold was hide and hurdit þare
Before or my forebearis lordis war:
Than suld I be full sare pynnyst þarefore,
To spend the guidis þat vtheris travelit for.”

The tother said, “Quhat will ȝe than done be?
Lo here þe gold, it sall nocht gane with me,
I haue yneuch of charge on my conscience—
I me discharge here in ȝoure awne presence.”
The tother sais, “Sen that ȝe will do sa,
With [ȝ]oure consent I rede we bartharis twa,
That we þe gold gif all oure balȝee till.”
The tother grantit þareto with gude will.
The balȝe ansured, sayand, “That I forfend,
That I ane vtheris mannis wyn suld spend,
For gif þe gold nocht anys of ȝouris be,
How may ȝe gif it richteouslie to me?
Þocht I be iuge, I haue ane saull to kepe,
And als my conscience chargit war mare depe,
That of þe lawis knawis the ordinance,

183

Na vther folk þat ar of ignorance—
Bot call the burges and the commintie,
And latt thame with þare witt sitt doun and se
Quhat best war in þis mater to be done.”

The parteis baith with that consentit sone.
The commonis and þe counsale þare assayit,
Herand how that þe parteis had avayit,
And ordand with ane grete provisioun
To gar cry in the marcatt of þe toun
And in þe tempill, apoun solempnit day,
Giff ony vald clame richt to that mony,
Quhill certane tyme of law war cummyne and gane;
And syne that samyne mony sould be tane,
And to barnis quhilk cummyne betuix thame twa,
Ane douchter and ane son, withoutin ma,
It suld be gevin, in name of mariage,
Al[s] fast as euer þai barnis come till age.
And thus the parteis baith war wele content,
And God and man plesit of þe iugment.

Than Alexander thareof sa plesit was
That euer sen-syne he honorit ay that place,
Sayand, “God gif sic iustice kepit war
Oure all þis warld, lestand for euer mare,
And I war dede and do[l]vin into my graif,
And neuer in erde mare ioy na honoure haue.”
With that the teris tigglit oure his e,
Sayand, “Allace, sen law may kepit be;”
Sa grete desire to kepe iustice he had,
And mekill of thame þat kepid law he made,
Sayand in erde men suld kepe wele iustice,
Sen law in Hell sa trewlie kepit is,
And nocht excedis in na kynd of degre—
Ilkane is punyst as he aw to be,
Sum hie, sum law, sum les of pane, sum mare,
For nocht elike ilkane is punyst thare.

How he gart his lady Rosenyn pas to Babilon

Than efter þat the worthy king of prise

184

Had bene and tane tribute of Paradise,
And inwart in þe cuntre come agane,
With mony grete iornais and mekill pane,
Quhilum he rede to vesy his conquestis,
Quhilum in play, and vther quhile he restis;
And ay drawand the way to Babilon,
For euer his mynd was mekill þare-vpone,
And etlit him to Teirs and throw Caldee,
Quhare Quene Candas was quhilum wont to be.
And first to Pers his wais has he tane,
To wesy his lady, quhilk made grete meane
That in sa perrellus land passit he,
And in sic pane that piete was to se,
And to Perssypolyn to Rosenyn,
The quhilk made mekill ioy of his cummyne;
And thare he restis fourtie dayis and mare,
Syne ordand hir to Babilon to fare,
Ay eftir him small iournayis at hir eis,
For in all thing he schupe hir for to pleis;
And ordand hir a worthy cumpaney,
Ay quhare he lay to luge hir nere þareby.

Sa it befell þat rynnand be þe way,
The king before þe ost he rade a day,
And nane with him bot of þe dousperis twa,
To seik anteris, as he was wont to ga;
And as he was in his disporte passand,
He saw a wery man cum fast ridand—
He rade sa fast, his hors was in a swate,
And als him-selff for hete and hunger mate;
He was haistit, and na thing at his eis,
And of lang tyme hes bene at grete maleis,
And to þe king he made curtessy.

The king agane rewardit him gladlie,
And said, “Fare schir, quhen come ȝe thus ridand?
It war weill like ȝe had sum haist on hand.
Ȝoure-selff is werry, ȝoure hors in a sweting—
It may neuer be bot ȝe haue sum tithing.”
“Schir,” sais the worthy m[a]n, “That is full of soith—
The hete is grete, and eik the tyme is muth,

185

And I haue riding þir five dayis in this hete,
With litill helpe of owther drink or mete.
Thare is a tyran lorde into þis land,
With quhome I haue a lang tyme bene duelland,
And wend of him gude lordschip for till haue had,
As I and myne gude caus till him has made—
He is sa tyrand and sa cuvatus,
And in his living als is sa vicius,
That he haldis myne heretage me fra,
And heryit me, as he has done to ma;
And syne, becaus I askit him ressoun,
He has me haldin ane lang tyme in presoun,
Quhilk had nocht bene my freindschip and my ken,
That furtherit me of presoun for to wyn,
I had neuer cum of presoun quhill I de,
Bot thare remanit in pane and povertie,
And be þe caus I herde of þe cummyne
Off Alexander, the nobill worthy king,
The quhilk men sais is hidderwart cumand,
Quhilk till all wrangit folk is ay werrand,
I wald beseik him of his mekill grece
To helpe me, wrangit man that is helpeles,
And for sic seruice as I can him do,
For euermare gude seruand be him to;
And wald ȝe lordis, for Iubiteris saik,
Off his cummying sum wittering to me mak,
I ȝow beseik, for ȝoure awne curtessy—
Ȝe seme to be of honoure sa worthy.”

Quhen that the king had hard on lenth his tale,
And in his hart had copyit it all-hale,
He said, “Fare schir, pleis ȝow to tell to me
Ȝoure name, ȝoure land, and ȝoure natiuitie,
We sall ȝow helpe ȝoure harmes for to wreik,
For we belang þat lorde þat ȝe of sp[ei]k.”
He ansuris and sais, “I am of Caldee borne,
Sa war my fader and moder me beforne,
Bot I am callit Gracian of Tyre—
My fader quhilum was lorde of Monmyre—
Quhilk Duke Melchiȝ, þe lorde of Dedifure,

186

Has heryit me, and put me to þe dur,
And haldis fra me my landis and heretage,
And of [sevene] ȝere alsua my fee and wagis.”
With that the teris droppit fra his e.
The king behelde, and had richt grete piete,
And till him sais, “Gracian, mak gud chere—
The samyne man þat thow seikis is here.”

With that Gracian lichtit deliuerly,
And to the king he cummys sone in hy,
And fell on kneis and thankit his hienes,
And prayit him of his lordschip and grace;
And as thai war thus standand in talkyng,
Thare come ane menȝe followand on þe king.
The king gart bring freche hors to Gracian,
And till his seruice depute certane men,
And of him tuke the aith of allegance,
To serue and governe be his ordinance.
And tald him þare quhow ane callit Naburdasar
And his twa sonnys with Duke Melchiȝ war,
“Quhilkis ar baith gredy men and full of trane,
And trestit ȝe suld neuer cum here agane,
And had herde quhat ansure ȝe gat at the tre,
And how at Paradise ȝe tocht for to be,
And schupe þame hale with maistry to ourethraw
Baith Tyre and Caldee, and thai will kepe na law—
Thay sklander ȝow, and sais ȝe haue na richt,
Bot all thing throw maistry and throw mycht,
And that ȝe war gottin in adultery,
Throw wichcraiftis and throw inchantery.”

With that þe king amovit was sum thing,
And callit his douseperis into councelling;
And tuke to rede þat thai wald sege þe place
Quhare Baltaȝare and his sonnys wonnand was,
Quhilk was a citie mychtie, stark, and stout,
And wallit wele and tourit all about.
He had [twa] sonnys, war worthy men and wise,
As was þare fader, þe quhilk was ald and here;
And as þai war thus-gate talkand thare,
All thus the oist come ridand furth the way,
To the nobill toun þe sege for to lay.

187

Into the samyne tyme it fell apoun cais
That thir tua brether furthwart ridand was—
As thai war ridand be þe way talkand,
Thai persauit quhare þe grete oist was cumand,
And mervell[it] quhat þat suld mene to be—
Thai war nocht wonnt sa grete ane oist to se.

The eldest sais, “Þis semys na bourding—
I dred me ȝone be Alexander þe king,
In ferre of were þat cummys ridand thus.
I traist this be nocht for na gude of ws:
I rede we pas vntill oure place agane,
And schape to kepe oure land with all oure mane.
I dred me sare that this be Gracien,
That with sum playnt till Alexander is gane
Apoun my fader and the Duke Melchiȝ,
Quhilk has him wrangit oft and mony tymes:
Oure grete wrangis may neuer cum wele out—
We may tak skaith for thame, I haue grete dout.”
And as þai rade all this talkand in fere,
Sa come the fore-ridaris prekand wele nere;
The ost come on furthwith and made na bade,
And thai to pas agane na sodio[rn]e made.
And skantlie war þe brether lichtit doun,
Quhen message come, and bad gif oure þe toun,
And thai past to þare counsale and awise;
And sone ane messingere þai send to Duke Melchyȝ,
Quhilk was þare eme, as he wald thare honouris,
That he wald send thame in þis cais succouris,
Or thai war tynt, and tald him all the case,
How Alexander come to assage þare place.
And he ansurid and bad thame mak gud chere,
And in all haist thare succoure suld cum nere,
Sayand of Alexander drede had he nane,
That he wist wele þat his fortoun was gane.
The messingeris askit thare ansuering,
Quhat thai suld say to Alexander þare king:
The ansure was that thy suld kepe þare place
Quhill that thare liffe into þare body was,
And bad thame bide quhill [aucht] dayis come to end,

188

And gif thare lorde na succoure to þame send,
Thay suld the place delyuer at þe last,
And mak thame lordis of it full and fast.

The king grantis, þe duke him reddy mais—
Ane hundreth oliphantis with him he tais;
He was thretty thousand wele armit men.
The king left all his ost, and tuke bot ten
Off wele hors[t] men, and bodin all at devise—
Few men ar bettir with ane chiftane wise
Na mony thousand with mysordinance,
For multitude is nocht but gouernance.
Duke Melchiȝ come with mekill pompe and pride,
Bot Alexander thare fassoun wele aspied,
And gart the ost array before þe toun,
And with ten thousand men he made him boun
To be þe henmaist as þat tyme in þe route.
And quhan þare ost was cumand in about,
Before the toun to mete the grete batelȝeis,
With oliphantis wele garnest with castellis,
He bad the grete batale þame stand and baid;
Bot sone he straik in at ane vther side,
And or the oliphantis come nere his ost,
The rerward of þare batalle all was lost,
And thai war strikand on þe vther garde.
The oliphantis mycht neuer turne bakwarde,
And all thare battalle was in disarraye,
The Duke Melchiȝ was neuer in sic affray—
The pres was grete, [the] stoure was stout and lang,
Quhen ilk douchty man on vther dang.

With that out of þe toun þare come in haist
Wele [five] or [sevene] thousand in a caist,
And tocht to cum to Duke Melchiȝ succours,
Bot all his battalle turnit was at rabouris—
Thare oliphantis ilkane oure-tumlit vþer,
Thare was [n]a battalle þat mycht helpe ane vþer,
For quhan a battalle put is in deray,
A-dew, fare-wele, the feild is quyte away.
The grete battale tocht for to helpe þe king,
Bot he na myster hade of þare helping;

189

The oliphantis maid sic distructioun,
And alsua mony he had strikin doun,
And all þe laif was reddie to þe flicht,
And mony was fleand with all þare mycht.
The stoure was strang, þe slauchter was cruell—
The men of Grece, quhilk was baith fers and fell,
Had mynde vpone þe lak and dishonoure
Quhilk thai spak of þe worthy emprioure;
Als Grecian had mynd how Duke Melchiȝ
Had wrangit him in mony kynde of wiȝ;
And als suppois grete strakis war gevin and tane,
Quhilkis passis power to coimpt thame ane and ane,
Bot sic strakis Gracien to Melchiȝ gave,
Quhill baith the helme and hawbrek of him rave,
That in that feild sic fortoun was him send
That of his auld maister he maid ane end,
Quhilk with ane spere first strak him to þe ground,
Syne with his swerd he gaif him dedis wound.

With that come in Dawris and Floridas,
With thame quhilkis of þe ciete cummyn was,
And worthy fechting mycht þare þan be sene
Before the king, the douchty men betwene,
Betuix Gracian, Dauris, and Floridas,
Quhilkis auld fayis ilkane till vther was.
The twa brethir tocht Gracian till oure-thring,
Bot Emeneodoun sone come in his helping,
And to Dauriȝ he rekit sic ane rout
Quhill oure his schulder went his scheild about,
And gart him galay bakwart in a wise
Quhill hede and helme on his hors lendis lyis;
Quhen Floridas saw that his broder sua
Was defoulit, his hart was wounder wa,
And etlit for to mete Emenedoun,
Quhill hors and man lay s[w]ammylland baith in swoun.
Sone eftir come Dauclyn and mony maa,
And s[aw] Emenedoun lay sw[ounan]d sua,
Till Floridas gaif sic ane hurioun
Quhill hors and man to erde he strikis doun;
And tocht on him to licht and sla him þare,

190

Bot Alexander cryit and bad him spare,
Bad tak him presoner and save him sone,
For he wald nocht to dede he had bene done,
And tocht na dishonoure till his persoun wald he,
For all the gold in Tyre and Caldee.
Be that Emenedus oure-come agane,
The maist [party] of þe feild war tane and slane.

Than Daurus come, quhilk was richt amerus,
And wauld haue sett apoun Emenedus,
Quhilk caus was of his brotheris takking;
The king was wele persavit of his cummying,
And schote till him and hitt him in þe scheild,
And doun he straik him flachtlingis in þe feild.
Sone was þare men sett on him for to sla—
Emenedus thus red, and put him fra,
Syne tuke him vp and kepit him fra skaith,
And in þis maner savit war thai baith.
Thay had grete fynance for þare ransonying,
Bot for na ransoun wald thame lous the king.
With that the battall all discomfist was,
And mony men was followit on þe chais;
The grete batall ay at þe king wald be,
Bot quhilk gouernit it, King Tholome,
Wald neuer thole na man part fra þe laif,
Said, “Thai sall hald the honoure þat thai haue,
Ellis thai wald say we made discomfiture—
Than war thai lakkit of þare grete honoure.”

Than past the king furthwith to take þe place
Quhare Baltasare þe auld knycht duelland was;
Bot he wauld on na wise to him obey,
Forþi his frawartnes has made him fey;
Quhen he herde takin war his sonnys twa
And Melc[hi]ȝ slane, and mony vþer ma,
For angir and dispite to bed he ȝede,
And ete neuer mete, na rais neuer quhill he deid.
Syne was the place delyuerit to þe king,
And all þe landis bowand at his bidding;
Syne send he messingeris to Dedifure,
To thame quhilk had the charge and the cure,
Bad thame send to him þe madin ȝing,

191

Or all that cuntre he suld sla and hing,
And bad the place als suld deliuerit be
To thame quhilk he suld send of his menȝe.
Thus all was done as he devisit has,
And the madin fare gud chere he mais,
Quhilk till him said, “Þow mychty emprioure,
For ȝoure grete wourschip and gret valloure,
And sen ȝe haue my lord my fader slane,
Ȝe wauld me gif my heretage agane.”

Than sais þe king, “Fare madyn, for ȝoure saik,
Off all my lordis I sall ane sembill mak,
And quhome þow likis to tak of my menȝe,
I sall ȝow gif ȝoure land and ȝoure citie.”
Than was scho fane, and thankit mekill þe king,
For thare was ane quhilk scho luvit oure all thing,
Sa did he hir, the piete was þe mare,
The quhilk was presoner tane with thame thare,
Was callit Dauriȝ, quhilk he herde þame tell.
The king had grantit to that damysell—
Quha was mare blyith na þan was Floridas,
Quhen that the king had gevin ȝe madin grace,
For he luffit hir alswele as he did his brother,
And for that had invy ilkane at vther—
Bot Dauriȝ was fer mare intill hir grace,
And ay was, na his broder Floridas.

Than gart the king sembill all his lordis hale,
And all his wourthy men in generale,
Sayand, “Here is a madin, are of land,
Quhilk at this tyme is happinyt in my hand,
And, for the honoure of virginite,
I haue hir grantit to cheis at hir gre,
To cheis and wale amange my hale barnage,
Quh[ome]-evir scho list to haue in mariage.”
And als amange þe lordis þare present was
The twa brether, Dauriȝ and Floridas.

“Dauris ȝoure presoner, gif that ȝe wald,
I wauld fanyst, becaus oure luffe is auld.”
Than Floridas was strikin to þe hart
Quhen he saw scho turnit to that part.
Than said the king, “Sen he is ȝow maist dere,

192

I grant him ȝow blyithlie, and with gude chere,
And here I gif him quyte his presonyng,
And of his ransoun sall he pay na thing.”

Than said Dauris, “I thank ȝow, souerane lorde;
And it pleis ȝow þat I serue ȝow ford,
Here my seruice I grant ȝow halely
For euermare, with gude and with body,
With all my harte, quhill I may liff and lest,
In quhatkin maner þat ȝow likis best.
God thank ȝow of ȝoure gift and ȝoure deserte—
I preife na mannis gude to mannis hert.”
Than said the knicht, “Ȝoure fre[dome] and genterice
Gerris ȝow of honoure and wourschip bere þe price.”
The feist was made with grete solempnite,
Bot Floridas at the feist wald nocht be;
For all the nycht of lenth he mycht nocht rest,
Becaus he loist hir þat he luffit best.
The king wytt gatt, and he displesit was
For the deseis of gentill Floridas,
Bad him be blyith, and nocht in [---] curage—
He suld him gett a bettir mariage.

Wyth this the king delogit all in haist,
And till a cuntre callit Clarence he past,
And eftir that he past to Pollipas,
Ane mychtie and ane reche cuntre was.
Syne till ane citie callit Carras,
Quhilk was the kynrik of King Nicholas,
Quhilk now Ianas, the Admirall of Cartage,
Has ordanit for to gif in mariage
With his dochter, quhilk was ane plesand may,
Bot scho was nocht diliuerit ȝitt away.
The king come suddantly vpone þe place,
And suddantlie with assalt it takin was;
And quhan Floridas saw the madyn fare,
Quhilk was þe lordis dochter and his are,
He was enamorit sa of hir farnes,
Fer mare na euer he with þe tothir was.
The king gaif Floridas þe mariage,
And made him lorde of all hir heretage:

193

Than Floridas sa blayth was into his harte,
He was a gude man till him efterwart,
And euer bade with him, in wele and waa—
And in þis wise he wan þe brethir twa,
The quhilkis war wourthy men in all his dais,
And in his weris baid with him all-wayis.

And syne to Tars þe richt way passis he,
Quhare that the Prince of Candas was wont to be,
And past ane rivere men callis Patience;
And quhen the Admirall herd tell of his tithing,
That nere cumand was Alexander þe king,
And had his toun of Carras and his land,
And sesit it all in Floridas hand,
He woix sa woid þat in his skyn he writhis,
And grete Mahoun he warreis mony sythis,
Sayand that full dere by suld Floridas,
To tak his douchter that sa hardy was,
Na Alexander suld nocht him fra him save
For all his mycht, bot he his hede suld haue;
And semblit all þe power that he may,
And to Carras he takis the reddy way.
And Alexander in Tars his soiorne made,
And all his ost about him liand bade,
And on the Admirall had gude spying,
And tocht to mete him at his cummying.
Nabusardan the Admirall was callit,
Quhilk was a hardy tyran and a balde;
And with him in his helpe had kingis thre—
Off lordschip mare na ony king was he—
Pharas Degipt, Malos, and Amelake,
And with thame mony vgly spere and blak.

And thus to Carras passis the Admirall,
And ay the king had of him gud spiall;
He trowit þat Alexander with his menȝe war
Past on to Babilone with all powar.
Than callit the king Dawris and Floridas,
For thai best knew and in þat cuntre was,
Bad thame tak [ten] thousand of his cumpaney,
And be the way in-till ane buschement lay;
And suld gar Dauclyn and Tholomee

194

Mak thame ane trane but with a few menȝe,
And trane thame ay to gar þame brek array,
Quhill tha[i] come quhare that the buschement ly;
And gif it happannys to gif thame þe c[h]ais,
The king suld be nere in sum vther place,
For to supple thame at the returnying,
Giff that thame mysterit ony reskewing.

All this was done ay as thai devisit had:
The Admirall come on but mare abade,
And schupe him to þe cite of Carras
(Before him was Tholomee and Floridas).
Quhen Tholome saw thame cum in battall,
The Admirall with all his power hale,
He schupe him to ride in-to thare sicht
As he away wald be with all his mycht,
And ay was drawand by and on his way,
And gart thame trow he wald haue bene away;
And eftir him þai braik sa haistaly,
Tua thousand or thre of the cumpaney,
And eftir that come vther foure or five
Off thousandis, als fast as thai mycht drive,
Quhill at the last þai nerit sa Tholome,
Throw speid of hors he may nocht forthere fle.
Quhat was thare mare? He lichtit doun and bade,
And na ma bot a thousand men he had;
And alsa fast as he was lichtit doun,
He gart his men stand round as a hirchoun,
And thai about thame enweronand,
Wele to the nowmber of foure or five thousand,
And tocht thai suld be to thame bot a pray.
Bot thai that oft had bene at sic ane assay
Defendit thame sa wele and manfuly,
Gert mony derf man in þe dede-thraw ly,
For thai war men of wisdome and prudence,
And euer thai kepit thame at thare defence,
With few lordis, and kepit ay silence.
The tothir come on with a hwy and crye,
And ay ma cumand fra thare cumpaney,
Quhill thai war wele a ten thousand or ma,
And euer thai bad save nane, bot all to sla,

195

Than in that tyme Dauriȝ and Floridas
Was fra the cumpaney a wele gud space,
And herde þe nois, þe clamoure, and the crye,
Quhilk but delay come on deliuerly—
Thai war ten thousand worthy men and stout,
Quhilkis altogidder come in-till ane rout,
And saw thare men war sett in sic assay,
And tocht thai sould nocht schape but sum affray.
Quhen thai come nere, thare trumpetis blew a blast—
With that the cumpaney was all agast
Quhen that thai saw sa sture a cumpaney
In gude array come on þame stordely.
Than left thai Tholomee in þat affray,
And drew on side, and put thame in array:
Than Tholomee, quhilk was sa hard assayit,
Saw that his innemyeis war sa affrayit,
And that thai thame vmbedrew in þat maner,
Quhill at the last þai saw thare folk draw nere,
And knew thame wele and had reconforting—
Thai spurd with spede, and come in a ling.
Than Floridas, quhilk had ane hie corrage,
And newly cummyng was fra his mariage,
And Alexander had donn him sic honoure,
He straik in sone in myddis of þe sture,
And with him mony a worthy man and wicht,
Quhilk straik doun mony sture and sturdy knicht;
And thai agane defendit thame stoutlie,
Quhill mony slane was of þare cumpaney,
And Tholomee vpoun þe tother side,
Quhilk ten thousand with ane durst wele ab[i]de,
Straik at the narrest in and made ane slop,
And of þe hard[i]est þe heide gart hope—
And sic ane murthur on þame thare was made,
Thai war purpost to fle but mare abade.

With that the Admirall saw his men sa sted,
And on thame fast with hale battale he bad:
The battall mycht nocht pas and hald array,
Sa suddantlie as thare helpe mysterit þai,
And als thai traistit that thare was n[a] m[a]re

196

To cum on thame na thame that thai saw þare.
The Admirall was birnand to haue remede,
And als to Floridas he hed grete fede,
And come in stoutlie with ane stute curage,
With thretty thousand men was of Cartage,
All in ane ling, and na man bad ane wther,
Bot euery fallow sett his side till vther,
And suddantlie come on þame with a schoute.
Than Alexander was nereby with his rout,
And quhen thai war brokin in disaray,
The worth king tocht to make thame affray,
And in he straik sidlingis apoun a side:
Men mycht se sadillis temyt in þat tyde,
And mony ane cote-of-armes, granand lye;
Thare mycht men se quha straik maist sturdelie.
Before him Tholomode and Floridas
Had red ane rovme into the tothir place:
With that the men of Cartage tuke þe flicht,
Bot thai levit mony ane worth knicht,
And schupe to draw to Cartage to the toun;
Bot Alexander þe Admirall straik doun,
And tua kingis war in [his] cumpaney,
The King of Saba and of Valerye,
Quhilk war his cosingis germane, baith as ane,
His sister sonnys borne of blude and bane—
Thay flede full fast baith hame in þare cuntre,
And left thare eme þar tane in that melle,
And wele ten thousand men, quhat tane, quhat slane,
And all the laif in haist fled hame agane.
And thare the king gart hale his woundit men—
And of thame slane and hurt fourskoir and ten—
And all the slane men gart put in þe erde,
His custoume was in all placis or he sterde.

And furthwith syne he passit to Carras,
And thare he left Dauris and Floridas
To kepe the place quhill thai had new warnying;
And syne maid thare bot richt schorte soiornying,
Bot furth to Cartage passis he in hye,
Without delay, with all his cumpaney:
With schorte avise þe sege þare he plantis—

197

He fand all prouisioun, and na thing wantis.
And thairin war þe kingis þat war fled,
Quhilkis with thame all þe fleand men had had,
Quhill thai war [twenty] thousand in þat citie,
Without the power that the toun mycht be;
Bot Alexander ay helde þat litill him deris
The frayit men þat fleis fra vther weris,
Na he dred na man for thare multitude,
For he had levir ten thousand men of gude
Na fifty thousand gadderand that will fle,
For ay of prufe he cheissit his menȝe.

The Admirall was presoner and tane,
Quhilk cousing was richt nere to þe Soudane,
Quhilk for þe tyme regnit in Babilone,
And quhen he hard þe King of Macedone
Was cummyne thare vpoun his cousingis dere—
For thai twa kingis all war cousingis nere—
He rampis, brandissis, and grete wowis makis,
And for to pas in persoun pruposis takis
On Alexander, with all his hale power,
Quhilk [had] ane hundreth thousand men and mare
At his command, quhen he wauld mak his cry,
And till him bowit þe cuntre halely.
Thare was [sevene] kingis quhilkis held of him þare landis,
With all thare power bowand to his wandis,
Off quhilkis þe twa war newly segeit þare,
Quhilkis to reskew he sett with all powar,
And send message oure all, baith far and nere,
To princis to cum with all power;
And syne to Alexander ane pistill he sendis,
As he quhilk lord of þat land him pretendis,
And with that pistill send worthy messingeris,
Off quhilk the tennoure wrettin eftir here is;
And with that sendis lettiris of diffiance,
Wenand he durst nocht ganestand his chalance.

“Baltasare, the king of kingis with croun,
And grete Sowdane of mekill Babilloun,
Till Alexander, the maisterfull tyran,

198

Quhilk of my ken has murtherit mony ane,
Throw wichcraft and throw inchantment,
Nocht throw wisdome nor gudlie gouerment:
We traistit that thai fortoun had bene done
Quhen thow spak with þe Treis of Son and Mone,
And that thow had renuncit thai follye,
And nocht to liff þe mare be tyrannye;
I charge the, in the lay of grete Mahovne,
Thow leiff this land and pas to Macedone,
And till all lordis deliuer þare awne landis,
Quhilkis thow hes delt, and haldis in þi handis,
And lous my cousing þe Admirall of presoun—
Or here I mak ane wow to grete Mahovn,
Thow sall it rew full sare, and þi menȝe,
That euer þow sett þi fute in þis cuntre.”
Ane vther pistill sendis he in hye
To þe grete Basake that gouernyeis Turkye,
And to the Kane of Tartary ane wther,
An[e] grete tyran quhilk was his moder broder;
And vþer to þe grete Sowdane of Surray,
Was brother to þe Cane of Tartary,
Requirand him to be in his supple,
For to reskew his landis and his cuntre.

Quhen Alexander hed herd the pistill red,
Ane vther pistill till him wrete he bad,
Sayand it was to him mare tyrannye
Till offer bullis blude till his malmentrye,
And hel[d] the law of barbarnys creuell,
And nocht throw þe grete God immortale;
And bad him ȝeild to him baith towre and toun,
And all the boundis and landis of Babilloun,
Or he suld sett his hede apoun ane stake
Before the toun, for grete Mahownnys sake.
With that þe sege to þe toun he layis,
And saleȝete it in mony kynd of wais;
And quhen þai war into thare first assaleȝe,
Out of þe toun thare come ane grete battalȝe,
The Kingis of Saba and of Valerȝe,
With fyftie thousand men þat ar wourthy,
And on þe sege thai strake furth at a side,

199

And traistit þare suld na man thame byde.
Bot Alexander, quhilk euer was war and wise,
Had euer his battallis ordand at devise,
That quhare his men was ordand for to saleȝe,
Thare stude before þame ay a grete battalȝe,
And purpostlie to kepe þe salt was sett;
And in thare salȝeing of þe toun þame mett,
And sidlingis drew betuix thame and þe toun,
Quhare mony ane douchty man was dongyn doun—
Emenedus þareof had governying,
And in þe tother batall was þe king.

The King of Saba was a proude wassall,
And tocht to gif Emenedus ane fall,
For he had done him vther wayis dispite,
The quhilk he had grete curage him to quyte,
And on him sett he wele and manfully,
Apoun a sturdy stede of Araby,
And hit him in þe myddis of þe scheild,
Quhill speris fell in flendris in þe feild;
And in þe passing by Emenedone,
The king sweyit like as he fell in swoun,
And sic a straik he hit him on þe hewit,
Quhill throw þe straik þe mynd fra him he revit;
And in passand a straik lete till him fle,
Ane litill beneth þe couplyn of þe kne,
And all þe malȝe cuttit quyte in twa,
And of þe lege baith flesche and bane alsua,
Quhill all his blude þare schote out in a stound,
And he fell doun dede flachtlingis to þe ground.

With that in come þe King of Valorye,
And wauld hed bene apoun Emenedone,
Bot Dauclyn was betuix him and þe toun,
And saw Emenedus had na spere þan,
And to the erde straik baith hors and man.
Than come a prince was callit Rodonyn,
And with all mycht he sett apoun Dauclyn,
For to reskew the King of Valorye,
Quhilk on his fute was left alanerlie,
And hit Dauclyn quhill all þe teis brak,

200

Quhill on þe ground he lay apoun his bak;
Bot suddantlie him-selff gottin vp he has,
And to the King of Valorye him tais,
Quhilk was bot ȝoung, of foure-and-tuenty ȝere,
And forsably he tuke him presoner.
With that the laif begouth on force to fle,
And at þe toun þ[ai] preist agane to be—
Thay saw the ta king tane, the tother slane,
And all the laif draw to þe toun agane.

Than was þe king ane vther battall by,
And to þe toun he drew in cumpaney—
And quhen a pepill ar fleand and ouresett,
Thare is no man has hart to steik þe ȝett:
And thus the king with mony a bald barroun
Amange the flearis enterit in þe toun,
And eftir followit all his barnage,
And thus thai tuk þe toun of grete Cartage.
Syne send thai for [þe] Admirall in hye,
And sett him with the King of Valory,
Baith fast in presoun in a sikker toure,
And of þe toun þai slew and tuke þe floure.
Bot sum of þame þat chapit of þe toun
To tell the Sowdane past to Babilloun,
The quhilk had semblit [twenty] kingis or ma:
The Cane of Tartary was ane of þai,
And with him was þe Sowdane of Surry,
The Cane of Cathane, þe Basak of Tu[r]ky,
Quhil[k] newlingis rais and tuke þame governying,
For Alexander had gottin sic ansuering
At his goddis, þai war in esperance
That he suld neuer agane tak governance.

Than come þe Sowdane with his grete battalȝe
Towart Cartage, and tocht it till assalȝe;
Bot Alexander had gottin þareof warnying,
And gart him brek all-hale his purposing,
For he come þe way vnto Babillone,
And on þare first battalle he straik vpone,
That, or þe last mycht sett ony remede,
Thare was five thousand of þe formest dede,
And brak the foregard of þare cumpaney—

201

For ȝitt war nocht the battallis made reddie,
Thare oliphantis, na ȝitt thare ordinance,
Na ȝitt na fessoun sett of þare governance;
Quharefore þe Sowdane was sett in sic affray,
And with his live vald fane haue bene away,
For thare was slane sic a multitude,
And sic effusioun made of mannis blude,
That neuer was sene before apoun [a] day
Sa grete a multitude as dede þare lay,
And money ane king baith slane and tane on fors—
The Sowdane brek away throw spede of hors.
Bot thare was woundit gude Emenedone,
And mony of þe duchperis dungyn doun
And vnhorsitt followand apoun þe chace.
The Cane of Tartary discomfist was,
And with the Sergent past to Babillone;
The king[is] men þe batell bad apoun
Quhill þai the batall all discomfist [h]ade,
Syne plantit doun þare pavillouns and abaid.
Thare was first slane þe Prince of Ameryne,
Makabry, Sabogote, and Rodonyne,
King Manyfroy, Soryne, and Amelyne,
Phales, Flory, Thamer, and Zacharyn,
The Kingis of Caldion and Samary—
Off kingis that day þare deit sa mony.

Quha was mare wa na was þe Sowdane þan,
For he before had hecht to cum his man,
Before he gatt the ansure fra þe tre,
That of þis erde lord anys suld he be;
And sen þe goddis sic ane grace him send,
He tocht into that honoure for till end,
And, to fulfill his werde and destanye,
At Babilone he haistit him to be.
Thus trumpit þai vp, and rasit þare batall,
And ordand for-ridaris and fleand stale,
And of thare batall made devisioun,
As thai war wount, with gude prouisioun;
And towart Babillon in gude array
Thai passit, and tuke all placis be þe way.
The Sowdane was persauit of þare cummyng,

202

And was richt ill content of þat tything.
He had ane lady, þat was baith war and wise,
Quhilk counsalit him for to mak sacrifice,
And to þe goddis do honoure and glore,
For scho had warnying in þe nycht before
That he did till him-selff grete hindering,
For to mak were on Alexander þe king.

Than passit the Sowdane furth incontenent,
And till his goddis made the sacrement,
And in þe tempill on kneis lay all nycht:
Quhill on þe morne þat the day was dawin lycht,
Off his desire he gat his ansuering,
That he him-selff hinderit in mekill thing,
For Alexander was cumand till his dede,
And him behuffit to de into that stede;
And efter him þe warld suld all renew,
And everie man his awne land suld perschew,
And bade him nocht be douttand tharevpone,
For he suld anys be lorde of Babilone,

Than was þe Sowdane radder þan before
That he suld baith his liff and land forelore,
For baith he writtin till him villany,
And of his birth repruvit him opinly,
And alsua till him he had maid behest
That gif he wan þe regiouns of þe est,
He suld obey and mak obedience,
And cum his man, and de in his defence.
With that the king plantit about þe toun,
And everie lord stentit his pavillioun.
The toun to wyn on force was wnwynnabill,
It was sa mekill and vnmesurabill—
It was [aucht] myle of brede and [aucht] of lenth,
Excedand he of wall and of grete strenth;
The toun was evin foure-quarterit be figure,
And everie quarter [aucht] myle of mesure.
The toun stude on þe wattir of Efraces,
Quhilk quyklie out-throw the cite rynnand was;
In mony branchis out-throw þe toun it wendis,
And in þe Grete Sey fra þe toun discendis.
The toure of Babille standis in a nuke

203

Off þe grete toun, and in a wattir cruke,
And it is bot of thre quarteris of figure,
And everie quarter ane lege is of longure.
The wall was wele ȝe thiknes of a myle;
The toure stude in ane nuke in-till a ile,
Twa myle the toun, þe toure thre myle of hicht—
Quhen son was law, þe toun had litill licht;
About the toure thare was allwayis a cloude—
Thare mycht nane here na cry na trumpis loude.

The king askit entre into the place:
The commouns of þe toun wele-willit was,
Sayand thai ha[r]d before be prophecye
That Alexander suld iois that sengoȝerye.
He was a giant þat the toun first made,
And Nembrocht giant till has name first hade.
And in that toun alsua was made the chas,
Be of a wise clerk was callit Exerces;
And maist becaus þare duelt a tyrant king
Quhilk slew all men quhilk gaif him repruffing
Or counsale for to leif his tyrannye,
His wikkitnes, crueltie, and fellonye,
Quhilk throw þe ches and his moraletie
He wrocht richt wise, and left his tyrannye.

Than Alexander send efter mare power,
And all þe toun about he segeit þare,
And all the placis of þe cuntre about
Obeyit him to, and come and maid him rout;
And of þe toun he wauld displeis na man,
Bot anerly wald haue had þe Sowdane,
Quhilk had him said sa mekill velanye,
And brokin his cunnand till him opinlye.

Than was þe toun mare maister na þe lorde,
And bad the Sowdane that he suld accorde
With Alexander, or thai wauld latt him in
With all his oist and menȝe, mare and myne;
Forþi the Sowdane schupe him in þe nycht
To chape out of þe cite with a flicht,
And doun þe wattir of Ewfraces to pas
(Off quhilk the king richt wele aduertesit was—
The cuntry all was at his governying,

204

And had him all resauit as þare king);
And in a prayn he schupe to pas his way,
Quhare mekill gold and iowellis by him lay,
And in a strange habit vnlikly
He past the nycht with few in cumpaney.
Than, quhan the toun herd tell that he was past,
The heris of þe toun assemblit fast,
And to þe king þai passit halelie,
And bad him entir, and all his cumpaney.
The king þame thankit of þare gudlie will,
And of þe grete favoure þai had him till,
And said he wald nocht entir in þe toun
Quhill he the Sowdane had of Babiloun;
And oure all quhare he gart cry and inquire,
Quha-euer mycht gett him, owther fer or nere,
And him arreistit and bring him till his handis,
He suld him gif baith grete lordschip and landis;
Quhilk or the thred day cum in þe mornying,
He was arrestit and enterit to þe king.

The Sowdane askis favouris of his liffe,
To leif þe land and tak with him his wiffe,
Bot, for he was baith fals and na thing trew,
He wald nowther grant him grace na on him rew,
And als he wrette to him and said he was
Off wikkit birth, and sone of Sathanas;
The Admirall in þe samyne degre
Had forfett all his favouris, as did he:
He gart tak baith and in a dungeoun,
And held thame quhill thai deit in presoun.
The lordis hale þat come of þe cite
Gert ordand for þe king ane fare entre,
Bot he wald nocht ȝitt cum in þe cite
Quhill he had riddin about in þe cuntre,
To se gif ony man war rebelland,
Quhilkis of before made fewta to his hand;
And send efter the King of Valery,
And he made him obeysance halely,
And gaif him all his lordschip and his land,
And to the king he was a trew seruand.

Than tuke the king in purposis for to pas

205

To Tarce, quhare duelland was þe Quene Candace—
Scho was with barne, and at þe falland fute;
And als the king had wrettin for tribute
In all realmes and cuntreis, fer and nere,
And bad thame all in Babilone compere
With thare tribute, within ane half zere day;
Syne trumpis vp and passis hyne away.
The lordis hale made him obedience,
Richt nobill chere, grete state and reuerence;
And quhen he come quhare was þe nobill quene,
He was dicht vp with deynteis all bedene,
And feistit sua that liking was to se,
And rade [fra] place to place with his menȝe—
Sa happinyt thame to rest in a place
Quhare maist hir plesance and hir duelling was,
And thare scho had ane chalmer of plesance,
Was drawin with foure-and-tuentie oliphantis,
And [foure-and-tuentie] quyleis maid of brass;
The chalmer wallis all of cristall was,
And all þe ruffe of beriall clere and clene;
The inwart graith was all of gold bedene,
The paithment was of saphir cristallyne,
And als of pretius stanis, was maist fyne;
Hir beddis war all oure-browdin and ouresett,
And all the chalmer richt sa was ourefrett;
The benkis and þe pillaris all of gold fyne,
Hir chiaris all of beane of serpentyne.
Off myr and aleos and of balme ryall,
The chalmer all was in ane flewar hale,
That it was mare like till a paradise
Na to be maid be erdlie mannis devise.
He restit thare and playit him at his ese
Quhill that the barne baith borne and babtesit was,
And cuttit of his pintill hide before—
And till his name thai callit him Alior.
Quha was mare ioyfull na the ladie fare,
That God hed send hir a son to be hir are,
Off him that scho best luffit in þis erde—
Scho tankit God þat send hir sic ane werde.

206

Quhen he had restit thare at his liking,
And for the chylde ordand his governying,
He passit furth to vesy his cuntre,
Giff fault of iustice war to knaw or se.
Sa happinyt him to cum in-till a land
Quhare thare was worthy folk and [weil leiffand],
And all þe lordis come to him, fare and nere,
And festit him and made him worthy chere;
Quhare it befell þat Bussifall his stede,
Quhilk had him borne to mony worthy dede,
Become sa seik he mycht nocht forder pas,
Quhareat the king sa hie displesit was
That nowtherane he etis, drinkis, na slepis,
And as þe moder for þe barne he wepis:
Bot neuertheles þe fortoun happnyt swa,
He deit furthwith, and mycht na further ga.
The king his dede sa havy tuke in hart
That he was neuer sa blyith sen hiddirwart,
And sic a du[l]e he makis for his dede,
And for-thy was als hevy as þe lede,
And fell in sic a study and a tocht
That of all erdlie thing he rekkit nocht,
Thinkand thare was sum fortoun for to cum
That till his honoure suld dishonoure sum.
And efterwart, quhan all this dule was done,
A mychtie sepulture he gart ordane sone
For Bussifall, with werkmen statelie wrocht
Als curiously as in this warld þai mocht,
Suppois it had bene for a king with crone;
And furthwith þare foundit a mychtie toun,
Quhilk standis ȝitt, and callit his Bussifal,
In a mychtie land and in a cuntre hale,
And dowtit it and festit or he ȝede,
Into rememberance of that mychtie stede—
He dowtit it and gaif it grete fredome,
That thare is few sic into Cristindome.
And with him gart the ost ga to þe erde:
It was grete pitie to se quho þat he bred,
For he mycht nocht contene him-selff fra grete—
The terris sa tigglit oure his chekis wete—

207

And quhen þe stede into þe erde was lade,
Than sichand with a sare hart loude he said,
“Giff ony best mycht haue a mannis witt,
I dar wele say that thow had part of it,
For thow wald neuer thole man attoure þe stride
Bot me allane, ane fute on þe to ride.”
Thus with ane sorifull hart he past him fra,
And trumpit vp and tuke his leiff to ga.
And efter syne he past in sere cuntreis,
Quhare worthy lawis kepit wele he seis,
And mony worthy act of iugment,
Quhilk war to sempill folk gude dociment,
That I ourepas, for oure lang tarying,
And lett of me of þis buke to mak ending.

And als becaus his hart was wounder sare
For Bussifal, he wald nocht tary thare,
Bot schupe agane the way to Babilone,
Quhare he tocht to tak his hiest croun,
For thare he tuke þe crovne imperiall—
Thare was the end þat made his conquest hale.
And brocht with him þat foul þat was sa sle,
Quhilk wald neuer luke on seik men þat wald de,
Bot, and ane seik man suld worth hale and fere,
Scho lukit till him blythlie with gude chere.

Syne wrette he pistill till all men, fare and nere,
Quhilk ony landis had to governe or stere,
Baith of þe est and of þe west cuntre:
He summound all at Babilloun to be,
That was to say, the lordis of honouris,
And all the laif to send thare procuratouris.
Thus quhen the king drew nere to Babillon,
The lordis and þe pepill of þe toun
Made ordinance for to resaue the king,
Ane staitlie and a mychtie purvaying,
Him to resaue with honouris as efferis,
And tharevpone send to him messingeris.
Thai made for him richt grete prouisioun:
With claythis of gold thai stentit all þe toun,
Sidlingis þe rewis abovin, with tartyr bricht,
Quhilkis nowther wald stop þe son-beme na licht;

208

The mylke, þe wyne þe condittis rynnand was,
Baith balme and vly within þe grete pallais;
In diuers rewis, playis and personagis,
Sum contenance on scaffaldis and on stagis,
With menstrallis playand apoun gal[er]eieȝ,
The staris full of pepill, thik al[s] beiȝ,
Baith knichtis and ladyis dansand peracorde,
For honoure and for wourschip of þare lorde.

To se the rayment of his cumpaney,
How thai war stede in hors and armoury,
And how thare harnes all with gold oure-gane is,
Thare helmes all ouresett with pretius stanis;
Thare scheildis all war of ryall balan,
Bordorit with gold and mony pretius stane,
Thare collaris, chaplettis, and bawdrikis hingand side,
Grete barrit beltis boukillit with mekill pride;
Thare-selff, thare hors enharmyt was with ste[l]e,
Ouresett with gold and perllis euery dele,
Thare trappouris ourefrett with ourefevery,
Or claith of gold, or silk, or tartary.
To se the statis and feris of his entre,
It was ane hevinly sicht on þame to se;
The riches als quhilk thai before þame send,
In charis and chamelis þat to few folk was kend,
Had bene ynewch to riche realmes sevin—
Thare mycht na mannys witt þe nowmbre nevi[n],
For the leist page in all his cumpaney
Had gold yneuch for euer to be mychty.
The kirkmen of þe tempill, and þe prelate,
With relequis west[i]t come with grete estate,
And welecummyt him, and wourthy chere him mais,
And syne before him to þe pallais gais;
And syne efter vnto þe tempill went,
And syne mad sacrefice or euer þai stent,
And all his lordis als maid sacrefice,
And syne to þe dyner went with grete devise—
Fare Rosenyn was cumyne thare before [OMITTED]

209

His hart was sett to liff þare with his men
In ioye and mirth, quhill God him liffe wald len:
Bot quhen man [hes] maid provisioun
Fra God ay cummys þe conclusioun;
The heast fely ay of þe quhele oure-wendis,
And syne ane vthir to þe hicht ascendis—
Is nane bot God þe houre of changeing wate.
Ay hiast stage is maist vnstabil state:
In somer, quhen þe son is at the hicht,
And of all grouth has mast vertew and mycht,
Quhen it is heast, þa[n] it mon discend,
And euer discendand to þe lawest end
To Capricorne into the zodiakis;
And syne agane his cours vpwart he makis
Vnto þe Crab, þat standis in þe hicht,
And ever-ilk ȝere renewis ay his micht,
And makis his cours but travelling or pane—
Bot man ourethrawne ful seildin cummys agane
Till hie estate, fra that he anys discend,
For haterent oft-tymes þame helpis til ane end.

The king, quhilk ay was dredand for treyson,
Becaus he wist he suld de of poysoun,
He ordand that na man þat office bare
Suld mak na seruice bot with armes bare,
And fra the elbok doun but ony thing,
Nowther sleif na serk na nane clething,
And oft thare handis wesching fare and cle[ne],
And habill na thing, bot þan all mycht be sene.
Quhen þai had dyn[i]t, to þe dance þai went,
And everie knycht in hand a ladie gent:
Sic ioy and blythnes was into that place
That thare was nane had tocht bot on solace.
Off all landis þare was sum lord[is] lent,
For thare he ordanid his grete parliament,
And thare to tak his crovne imperiall,
For all the wardlit obeyit þam to him hale;
And off all realmes þare come þe messingeris,
With grete ambassadry, as him efferis,
And with that brocht him tribute and trewage
Off cuntreis and men of all langage—

210

Oure all þis erde his worde walkit sa wide.
Thay war sa rade, durst nane his bidding bide,
In Asie, Europe, and in Affrica,
With all the landis contenit vnder þa—
He was sa dred oure all, withoutin dout,
And eik sa wise, þat all lede he gart lout,
Baith est and west and south and north oure all,
Thai semblit at his commandiment and his call:
Owthir in persoun thai made obediance,
Or procuratouris appered in his presence,
With messingeris and heraldis of þe landis,
And every man his tribute in his handis.

Quhan thai war semblit in þare parliament,
Quhare all þe lordis of þe land war [lent],
Thai sett vpone his hede ane diademe,
And all þe warde on brede gaif him to ȝ[eme],
And syne thre crovnis sett thare-on abone,
Syne led him vp and sett him on þe trone,
As of þis erde hale lord and emprioure,
With all obeysance, wourschip, and honoure—
And he furthwith maid princis, kingis, and dukis,
Quhilk vnder him þe realmes rewllis and brukis;
And crovnit [thame] richt thare in parliament,
And bad thame kepe wele law and iugement,
For he war nocht sa gude, quhare falt he fand,
Bot he suld leis þareof baith liffe and land.
Syne come thare message fra his moder sweitt
And Arestotill, quhilk gudlie couth him grete;
And he send thame ambassiat of blythnes,
With mychtie presentis of gold and of richess,
And chargit Arestotill to cum anone
In gudlie haist the way to Babiloun,
And wratte him of gret vexatiouns,
And of his trauel and tribulatiouns,
And of his conquest and prosperetie,
And how the warld was all in vnyte—
Off quhilk his maister had recomforting,
Sayand that he was worthy to be king.
Than Arestotill and his moder dere
And pistill till him send, in this maner:

211

“Till Alexander, the king and emprioure,
Off all this erde monarch and gouernoure,
Olympias, the Quene of Macedone,
Till Alexander, the King of Babilon,
With Arestotill, the quhilk his maister was,
Commendand thame vnto his gudlie grace:
Hie emprioure, now tak tent till oure sawe—
Now war it tyme a king him-selff to knaw,
And thole na welth fra wisdome wryith his witt;
He has grete grace quha wele can gouerne it,
For mekill grace is gevin to dignetie
Quhen [wisdome] reulis ryall magestie.
And all suppois that thow be ryall king,
Euer-ilk day think anys of þai ending,
And law the to thai God with grete meiknes—
For lang liffe cummys of lawlines,
Quhare ignorance of God and mysknawing
Bringis suddane dede, with schame and ill ending.
Haue well in mynde, and think wele in þai hart,
The goddis has the kepit wele forthwart,
Sayand thow sould be anys lord of þis erde,
Quhilk all be the suld gouernit be and st[er]de—
Now, sen all thing is cumin as þow will,
Giff thame loving and kepe þi parte þame till;
And quhen þow hiest is apoun þe quhele,
Than has þow mister to kepe þe wele,
And ever in prayer and deuotioun
To God to save thai wourschip and renoun,
And kepe the fra fals men and dissavabill,
And of all pure folk be merciabill;
And traist na man quhome to ȝow has done ill—
Thay sall neuer haue to the a gudly will:
Me ferleis quhy þow puttis in gouernance
In ony seruice or in ordinance
The barnis of Antepater and his wiffe,
Quhilk luffit the neuer nor me in all oure liffe.
I gart wratte to the pistill ane or twa,
That thow suld neuer traist in a conquest fa—
Traist wele, quha hetis the anys hartfully
Sall neuer efter þat lufe þe lelely;

212

Hald thame fer of that þow has won on force,
And sikker frendis nerrest to thai cors.
For opin were of the na dred haue I,
Bot for tressoun, hid haterent, and invy,
And commounly þat will happin erast
With men in quhome þe princis traistis maist.

“Now fare wele lord, fare wele fare emprioure—
The hiest God haue e to thai honoure;
I can nocht find na langage propirlie
To send the loving efter thow art wourthy:
In were mare worthy was þare neuer nane,
Na nauer salbe that is borne of blude and bane,
Sa full of fredome and of hie nobilnes—
Off that I tak the warld all in witnes.”
Syne Arestotill wrett to him secretlie
Ane vther pistill fare mare tenderlie,
Off documentis and teichtingis of before,
To kepe him fra all vanetie and glore,
And alsa that he oft in memor had
The Regiment quhilk for him he had made.
Thus done, the king was tane in purposing
To mak statutis in figure of a king,
And in all landis and realmes principallis
Quhilkis he had than vnder his gouernalis,
As Ynde, Pers, Calde, Grece, and Macedone,
Egipt, Rome, Cartage, and Babilone,
And of all fyne gold, sett on stagis hie,
For euermare a memor for to be.

Quhen Alexander had regnit peciablie
In Babilone, in welth and senȝeorye,
Quhilum he rade in visitatioun
In landis of hi[s] conquest vp and doun—
Sa come he in a cuntre quhare thare was
A witty clark callit Diogines,
Quhilk nowther wald duel in citie nor in towne,
Bot in ane tvn he made his mansioun,
Na he wauld nowther serue emprioure nor king,
Na melle him with na wardly gouernying
Bot evir intill his contemplacioun,
Nor wald na gold haue nor possessioun.

213

Bot ȝitt he was ane man of grete degre,
And guidis and heretage yneuch had he,
Bot he delt till his frendis all his gude,
And tuke him verraly bot his livis fude;
Richt rude clething and vngudlie he ware,
And nixt hi[s] hide, but sark, he wore the hare.
He satt vpone ane souk in-till ane tvn,
And nakyn mete bot rude mete wald he cvn,
And ay betuix disporte wald till him ta,
And all his liffe he had bene custmyt sua.
Beside the gate he lugit on þe feild—
He was of perfite liffe and of gret eild.
His tvn was clois about, baith brade and wyde,
As stepill abone, and opin apoun þe side,
And closand with ane woundo was þe entre;
And as þe wynd turnit, sa turnit he,
And ay he sett his visage to þe son,
And sett his bak ay quhare þe wynd suld cum.

Sa come the king and made him questioun,
And arguut him of his opinioun—
Off quhais wordis litill ioy he had,
And till his questiouns litill ansure made,
Na nowther made him state na reuerence,
For all his lordschip and excellance.
He was ane clark and grete philosophure,
And mycht for clergy cummyn to grete honoure,
Bot he dispysit the warld and wardlynes,
Quhilk mekill ill and litill proffeitt mais.
In at his wyndo come the sonnys beme—
The king stude evin betuix him and þe leme.
The king bad him ga with him to his place,
And he suld gif him gold and grete riches,
And held of his counsale specialy,
Gar him be cled and gouernit honerablie.
The tothir said him plesit nocht his dale,
Na hunder him wald haue na gouernale,
And prayit him to stand out of his licht—
He held fra him that he him gif na mycht;
He said, “Na seruand will I to the be,
Na ȝitt th[i]ne counsoloure, in na degre,

214

For thow art suggett to my seruitoure—
How suld I than to serue the haue honoure?”

“Quhilk is thai seruand?” till him sais the king;
“The gold,” he sais, “quhilk þow luffis attoure all thing—
It is maist tender to the and maist swete,
The gold quhilk I tred vnder my fete;
For covatise—þe quhilk is my suggett—
Off gold and gere gerris þe þis honoure gett,
For had thow na mare richess na I haue,
Thow suld haue na mare honoure na þe lave:
Thus, sen thyne honoure cummys bot of richess,
Quhilk thow has reft with wrang and wikkitnes,
Throw strenth of men, nocht of vertew of þe,
It sall þow litill proffitt fra þow de—
Thow mon gif coimpt before þe Iuge abone
Off mony saikles man þow has vndone,
Off livis and gudis quhilkis thow has tane þame fra;
Thow mon gif reknyning syne quhen þow sall ga—
Than thow has nocht, þe warld will haue þe gude,
Than mon thow pay þe vnlaw with thai blude,
For God and iustice þare mon be content,
And thai persoun mon bide þe iugment.—
Quha makis ane falt, and he haue na gude here,
For his forefalt his persoun mon compeir.
War I now bayn at thai biddin to bow,
I sawld be punyst like ane theif, as þow,
For all that giffis consent of furthering,
Helpe, and counsale, ar punyst for a thing.
Thus think me þe mare fule na all þe laif,
To reif all men, and na richess to haue—
Thow has þe name of all, and has na thing,
Bot anerlie thai mete and thai clething;
The riches of þe warld is hale the sent,
And ȝitt thai covatise is nocht content.”
The king herd he spak baith soith and [f]are,
And past his way and spak with him na mare.

215

Off þe argumentis betuix the reiffare of the sey [and] Alexander

Syne efter come þe folk of þat cuntre,
Sayand thare was a reiffare be the sey,
Ane mychtie werioure, quhilk with strang hand
Reft all the cuntre, baith be sey and land.
The king gart feche him and his cumpaney,
And him repruffitt of his grete tyrannye,
Sayand, sen he was man of nobill kyn,
He suld schame with the liffe he liffit in,
To be ane peloure þus-gate on þe sey,
To reif lele merchandis quhare na richt had he:
He bad he suld be tane incontenent,
And furthwith done apoun him iugment.

He ansurid, sayand, “The caus cummys of þe,
Quhilk has me made ane reiffare of þe sey—
Thow has heryit me and all my kyn,
And now I haue na gude bot þat I wyn,
Na I can nowthir laboure na trava[l]e,
Na wyn na gude with vther gouernale:
Th[ow] giffis exampill als to sic as me,
And vtheris ma, þus reiffaris for to be,
For reif has brocht the sa grete honoure
That of þis erde thow art hale emprioure,
For thow has reft and heryit all þis ground,
Ay for ane penny ane hundreth thousand pound—
For quhy thow suld mare sarely punyst be,
Thocht oure trespas was baith in a degre,
For nede garris me, and falt of my liffing,
Quhilk thow has nocht, for þow art borne a king;
And als, sen thow my riches has me reiffit,
And in þis wise a pure man hes me leiffit,
Off all my dede þow art occasioun.
Thow art þus cause of my destructioun—
Thus suld þow nocht be my accusatoure;
It war baith to þe lak and dishonoure
To reiff a man and syne accusare be,
Baith hald his gude and syne to gar him dee.

“Thus is thare mony sindrie causis quhy

216

Thow suld be punyst as wele [as] I,
For thare suld nane crymynous man iuge bene
Till inemyis, bot he of cryme war clene:
Bot mycht men gar the thole þe law as I,
And iustice for þi dedis vnderly,
And mycht [I] the accuse, as þow me may,
Thow suld nocht but pynnitioun past away;
Sen thow art full of cryme in all degre,
Thow a[w] to be na iusticiare of me,
And als þow aw to be na accusatoure,
Sen þow has mare na I made forefatoure—
Bot mony men has lordship and maistry,
And iugis vther men full creuelie,
Quhilkis, war law be gude dis[cre]tioun,
Thame-selff suld haue mare punytioun.
Bot all suppois now iugis here ȝe be,
For fals iustice ȝe sall anys iugit be.”

The king saw him ansure sa racionably,
And of his reiff schew gudlie ressouns quhy,
And knew him-selff was culpabil in þe dede,
And tocht that he wald mak vertew of nede;
And syne consederit his nobeletie,
That wise and wicht and hardy man was he,
And that na caus bot grete necessetie
Had made him thus ane reiffere for to be;
And tocht it was bot ane ressonabill cais
In sic ane actioun for to do him grace,
And thare resauit him till his awne seruice;
And he become ane wourthy man and wise,
And gaif him land and lordschip and leving,
And he remanit ay with the nobill king.

In-to þis tyme þare fell in Babiloun
A ferly cais, quhilk all men wounderit on:
Quhen Alexander had vesyit his cuntre,
And s[e]ne quhare iustice best sould kepit be,
Ane birth was borne in mannis liknes,
Quhilk had a mannis body and a face,
Ewin to the myddill, and syne fra þat place doun
Like lioun, dragoun, serpent, scorpioun;
And hede and body deed was vpwart,

217

And richt vnlikly was the nether part,
And all the parte quhilk vpwart was dede
Was like a man, baith the body and þe hede,
And quyk and quhiddirfull þe nether parte,
Quhilk was bestlike, and dedely vpwart.
The birth was brocht and present to þe king,
Quhilk all men made vpoun sic mervelling,
Sayand it was pronosticatioun
Off sum myscheiff and tressoun to þe crovne.

Than gart the king bring wise men for to se
Quhat be sic thing mycht betakin to be.
Thay ansured sayand, wald he nocht him displeis,
Thay suld him schaw quhat takinnit þat it was;
And he ansurid he suld nocht tak in ill,
Quhat thing þat euer þai said it taknynnit till.
Than suthfastlie þe wise men can him say,
“The hicht betakynnis þe souerane lord alway,
The quhilk is fey, and in schorte tyme mortall—
His tyme is past, he may na langer duell.
The nethir part fra þe body doun
Betaknynnis þe memberis sugettis to þe croun,
The quhilk sall mekill langare liff na he,
And nocht ane with ane vther cordand to be,
Bot in discorde and grete devisioun
Thay sall remane quhen failȝete is þe croun,
And nocht ane of ane wther sall stand aw,
Bot as sic beistis ilkane vther ourethraw;
Ilkane sall preis to haue the dignetie,
And nocht ane till ane vther frynd [sall] be.
Thus sall the conquest peris into discorde,
And all for wanting of ane worthy lorde,
For covatise, hid haterent, and invy
Sall neuer lang concorde in a cumpaney;
And as ȝe se beistis vnressonable
Amange þame-selff of leving detestabill,
And eveir-ilkane preis vther to ourethraw,
Sa sall þi lordis do for falt of aw.”

Bot lorde! quhat was þe king in grete tristes
Quhen [þ]is figure expoundit till him was—
And gart bring furth the appill for to wey,

218

And als þe foule quhilk schew quhen men was fey.
The foule wald neuer a blink vpoun him luke;
The appill for to weye in hand thai tuke,
And in þe ballance put ane counter-pais:
Thay fand na wecht of metall that thare was,
Fra it was in þe ballance, þat wald sterd,
Na gar it rise to freith it fra þe erde;
It was changit of culloure and of hew,
Nocht like the appill þat was freche and new,
Bot was mare like to be of lame or stane—
And quhen it of [þe] ballance out was tane,
A man mycht bere it in his hand but pane,
Quhill in þe ballance it war put agane.
Than gart þe wise man tak als mekill clay
As cled it in ballance quhare it lay,
And syne tuke als mekill of quantetie,
Laid in þe tothir ballance for to se,
Off verry clay, withoutin vther thing;
Than in þe ballance baith elike þai hing—
Thus was it rasit with the wecht of clay,
The quhilk na quantetie of metall may.
Than said þe wise man, “Richt thus sal it be,
For all this warld mycht neuer suffice þe—
The mare þow had, mare was þi covatese;
Bot sen þi lenth of erde sall þe suffice—
Quhen þow art dede, þe erde þat cover sall þe
Sall be no more bot of thai quantetie.”

The king, quhilk herd þame speik sa propirly,
Was like he had bene tane in extasy,
And till his chalmer passis he belive;
He was [nevir] halff sa wa in all his live,
And till his goddis maid his lamenting
Bot thai maid him na kynd of ansuering.
“Allace!” he sayis, “I se weill I mon dee,
Sen my goddis na ansure makis to me.”
Thus in his mynd richt grete murnyng he maid;
And in his slepe þat nycht but mare abaid
The king sleping in-till his dremyng tocht
That Cassandra him crewely besocht,

219

Him for to sla, and straik him with a swerde,
And woundit him and straik him to þe erde;
And for that caus Cassandra banist he,
Na in his [seruice] langare tholit him be.

Than Iobas to Cassandra broder was,
The quhilk was mekill in þe kingis grace—
Thare fader duelland was in Massedoun,
Quhilk fede had to þe king of lang tyme gone,
And oft-tymes to his sonnys was mowand
That thai to poysoun him wald tak on hand,
For feid thai hade till him and matelent,
Bot thai wald nocht to thare fader consent
Quhill efter that Cassandra banest was;
And als þe king in-till his crabbitnes
Till Iobas gaif ane straik in audience
Apoun þe hede, and nocht for grete offence:
Than he quhilk neuer wald consent to his dede,
Fra [þat] tyme furth had him at mortall fede.
Than wrette he letteris to his brother hame,
How that the king had done him sic a schame,
And strikin him, and done him richt grete skayth,
And maid his chekis bla and bludie baith.
Thare fader Antepater callit was,
Quhilk had grete fede to Quene Olimpias,
The quhilk his eme before tyme had [gart] sla,
The King Pensionas, and mony ma,
And tocht that he suld anys quyte hir mede,
And Alexander als, for doing of þat dede.
Quhen Antepater herd of his tything,
His hart was nevir blyther of na thing,
Bot furth-with pas and the poysoun bocht,
And send Cassandra als sone as he mocht,
And to Iobas þe poysoun with him send,
Sa prevely that it mycht nocht be kend—
It was sa stark þat kepe it thai ne mocht
In na veschell þat was of metall wrocht,
Bot in a veschell maid of vitrioll,
Quhare neuer man powar had to mak h[o]le.

And quhen þe childe þe poisoun gottin had,
He studyit nycht and day but mare abaid

220

How he mycht gif the poisoun to the king,
And na man of it suld haue persaving;
Quhill on a day þe princ[is] and þe quene
Saw that the king in diseis lang had bene:
Than, him to meis of his malancoly,
Thai ordand for to feist him ryally,
The quhilk [was] donn with grete solempnite,
And made him all the b[l]ythnes þat micht be.
Syne efter mete þai past to revilling,
And all made ioy for conforte of þe king,
And all the ladyis made him cumpaney,
To gar him laif all his malancoly;
Sa euerie man about to pleis [him] was,
Quhill thai him put in excedant blythnes,
That mony said þai saw neuer, man nor wiffe,
Him halff sa blyth in na tyme of all þare liffe;
And had na tocht bot on his play and gamyn,
For thare war mony lordis and ladyis samyn.
The quene and all hir ladyis all war þare—
It war na nede to spere how that þai fare.
He was fer blyther, as that þe story sayis,
Na euer he was before in all his dayis:
And commounly before ane grete myschance
Thare cummys ane blythnes, with ane arrogance,
And tharewith cummys a welthful wantones withall,
And commounly sone eftir cummys ane fall.
Thus quhan the king was maist in his blyithnes,
Out of ane hete þare come ane thristynes,
And than a drink he askit hastaly [OMITTED]
And saw the king sa sett to his playing,
That than was tyme to mak end of þat thing;
And first he brocht þe wyne and of it taistis,
And prevely the poisoun in it castis.
Sum sayis vnder his nale þe poysoun was,
Bot I can never fynd to trow þat cais,
For sic a poysoun has sa grete a force
Tha[t] twichis ony part of mannis cors,
It sall synk in his body, parte and parte,
And neuer ceis quhill it cum to þe harte—

221

Thus suld the giffare als wele posonit be
As sould the takare, into sic degre.

Thus quhen þe lordis sittand war all samyn,
The king þe coupe tuk blyithlie in his gamyn,
And drank ane grete drink in his thristy hete,
That in his mouth fra thyne furth come neuer mete;
And tuke na tent till quhill efterwarte,
Bot sone ane wammylling tuke him be þe harte,
Syne in his stomoche and syne in-till his hede.
Than in his mynd he said, “I am bot dede,”
For bayth in hete, in blyithnes, and in gammyn
The blude and poysoun menglit war all sammyn;
And thare furthwith he had persaving
That he was strikin with sum poysounying,
And slely slaid out-throw þe cumpaney,
And till his chalmer past he prevely.
Thare with a cry and a grete clamoure
He said, “Fare wele, all erdlie creature—
I se my goddis made me na lesing
That said that I suld de of poysouning;
Cassandra with þe swerde has strykin me
Quhil[k] in my sleping vther tymes I se.”
With that apoun his bede he sweyis doun,
And fell in-till a slomering like a swoun,
And restit thare ane litill tyme; [and] rais,
And syne ane stra in-till his hand he tais,
And in his hals it put and schupe to cast—
He brakit oft, and did nocht at þe last [OMITTED]
And Iobas, quhilk was doar of þe thing,
Ane pelit fethir saw and tuke in haist,
Wenand that it sould gar him bettir cast,
And in his hals he put þe fethir doun;
And feld wele it was wette in þe poysoun,
And had furthwith ane feill quha þat it was,
Bot he had pas[si]t furth of þat pallas.

Be that the ladyis left the revelling,
And followit to the chalmer to þe king:
Bot Iobas had the durris closit sua
That nane mycht esche na entre, to na fra.

222

Thai wend the king had bene in a sleping,
Bot he lay in ane sorowfull sowovnying,
Quhill at the last thai hard him gif a crye,
With pittuous voce, and granand reuthfully.
With [that] the durris vp þai braik but mare,
And in a sownying þai fand him liand þare;
The quene fell doun als cald as ony lede,
And wend the king had woundit bene to dede;
The lordis rampis and thare clething rivis,
And all þare handis wrang, baith men and wyvis.

The rumoure rais, and sone þe bemes blawis,
The pepill cryit, þe ost till armes drawis;
And als þe king in sic ane sowonying fell
That he mycht na thing of þe tratouris tell,
And he had sa hard his passioun
That he mycht mak na lamentatioun—
His hart, his liffir, his stomok, and his hede,
Thay droupit sua for dolloure of þe dede.
With that the king was walkynnyt of his swovn,
And saw thame mak sic lamentatioun,
And throw his curage smertlie vp he rais,
With fenȝede chere, and conforte till him tais;
And saw the quene quhare scho ly in sownonyng,
And till hi[r] lancit lichtlie in a ling,
And furthwith in his armes he hir laucht.
The wourth curage with þe poysoun faucht,
And vp he tuke hir in his armes twa,
Sayand, “Allace! my swete, quhay do ȝe sua?”
And conforte hir, and gart hir mak gud chere,
And schew hir how that he was hale and fere.
Than saw the quene þat he na woundis hade,
And scho rais vp, and bettir chere scho made;
Bot sone eftir, þe stoundis þat war smerte
Off that poysoun, sa straik þai to þe hart
That he mycht no more fenȝe countenance:
For dout of þe quenis displesance
He dissimllit in als far as he mocht,
To conforte hir, bot þat was all for nocht,
For sone eftir, the thrawis tuke him sare;
And till ane closett drew him innermare,

223

And tharevpone a litill couth alane.
He lenyt him doun and made a drery mane,
And said, “Allace, þe tyme þat I was borne!
Sa mony lede throw me þe liffe has lorne;
Bot that I watt it movit nocht of me,
Bot throw promissioun of þir hevynnis hee,
Quhilk throw þare motive and þare ordinance
I tuke on hand sa hie a gouernance;
And now throw poysoun here behuffis me dee—
Quham maist I traistit, now has poisound me;
I kepit nocht my moderis counselling,
Quhilk oft me warnit of this posonying,
Quhilk Antepater all þe caus was,
And his twa sonnys, Cassandra and Iobas.

“Quhat waillȝeis now all my governyng?
I may nocht helpe me, þocht I be a king.
Quhat waillȝeis me all my warldis glore,
Na ioy na plesance þat I had before?
Quhat waillȝeis me my state of ryalltie,
Na all the welth I had in magestie?
Quhat waillȝeis me my gold and my tressoure,
Na all the riches þat I wan before?
Quhat vailȝeis me my citeis and my tovnis,
My robis ryall and my goldin gownys?
Quhat vailȝeis me my pretius stanis dere,
Sen I man bide na langere with þame here?
Quhat vailȝeis me þe mony fare pallais
I had in ward, but pere of preciousnes?
Quhat vailȝeis me þe ladis fare and cle[r]e
At my plesance I had, baith fare and nere?
Quhat vailȝeis me my septoure and my croun,
Quhilk in schorte tyme sa law mon be lade doun?
Quhat vailȝeis me my state imperiall,
Sen I mon ga fra all þe gouernale?
I haue mare dule þis ryalte to lore
Na all the ioy that euer I had before;
I had levir ane thousand tymes be dede
Into my eild na anys into my ȝouthede.
Quhat may me helpe my wourthy knichtis kene,
Quhilkis in this warld was neuer mare wourthy sene?

224

Na my grete ost may nocht for all þare mycht
Delay my liffe þe space of halff a nycht.

“Quhen I think on þe dule þat thai will ma
Eftir my dede, brekis my hart in twa.
Quhat vailȝeis me þe batall that I made,
Na all the los of victory þat I had?
And [I] watt nocht quha sall eftir me be lorde,
And all my chiftanis liffand in discorde,
And leif my frendis efter me in feid,
For mony a man that we haue brocht to dede.
Sen I mon de, I watt nocht quhare to ga,
Na quhat cuntre, na qu[hi]dder to wele or wa,
And namly now in floure of my ȝouthtage,
Quhilk garris me tyne baith witt, mynd, and knawlege.”
With that [he suelte] doun suounand on þe ground,
The st[r]akis of dede sa stonyst him in þat stound.

The quene, quhilk on him ay had gude keping,
Hard his regrett and all his lamenting,
And saw that he was in ane swoun liand,
And with ane reuthfull cry scho come rynnand,
And hynt him vp and made him conforting;
And vnderstude þan all his posounying,
Sa[y]and, “Allace! adew, my gouernoure,
Adew my prince, adew my emprioure,
Adew my lufe, my lord, and my lamen,
Adew, all erdlie ioy fra ȝow be gane.”
With that in-till hir armes scho him braist,
With sorefull hart and teris gretand fast;
Scho hid hir sorrow to mak him conforting,
Sa[y]and, “Suete lord, think how ȝe ar a king—
Suppois ȝoure poisoun do ȝow panis smerte,
Latt neuer discomforte þus ourethraw ȝoure hart;
Ȝe haue sic witt and knawlege of ressoun—
Now at a nede schaw ȝoure discretioun.
Ȝe vnderstand and knawis wele ȝoure-sele
That thare was neuer na mankynd immortale;
Ȝe watt oure liffe is bot a litill space,
Suppois þat ane before ane vther pas.”

As thus the ladie maid him conforting,

225

And mesit him of his dolloure mekill thing,
The lordis come about him lamentand,
And all his howshald wounder sare wepand,
And saw that he was drawand till ane end,
And that thare mycht na medicyne him amend.
He tocht grete schame, and wald haue bene away,
Sa grevit him þe dule for him made thay.
Thus all the day delayit was his dede,
And all the nycht þai woulk him in þat stede,
With lampis and with torchis birnand licht—
He was wele wachit, baith be day and nycht.

Sa it befalle quhan thai had walkit lang,
Sum tyme men mon tak slepe on nede among,
And he, quhilk taverit was with tary and teyne,
Was wounder fane out of þis varldit haue bene;
And watit quhan the wachis slepand war,
And tocht that he wald pas furth till a stare,
A galery, stude apoun Eufraces:
The ryvere throw þe citie rynnand was,
Quhilk past throw þe myddis of þe palas,
Nere by the chalmer quhare the king liand was;
Thare war sere trappis in þe galery,
And wyndois als and skoularis richt mony.
He wald sa fane þat na man had him sene,
That of his dede displesit wald haue bene,
And als he wald nocht þat his innemys
Suld witt him deand into sic ane wise,
And tocht till steill away all prevely,
That na man suld persaue na quhare na quhy;
And tocht to latt him-selff doun at a tr[a]pe,
Bot that purposis faleȝete, sic was has hap.

He wattit quhan þe wachis slepand war,
And tocht that he wald pas out to þe stare,
And sa into the ryvere to discende,
Sa prevely that to nane suld be kend,
That on þe morne, quhen it war licht of day,
Thare suld nane witt quhare he war gane away,
Tocht sum wald say it was bot fenȝete thing [OMITTED]
And for sum caus þat he eschapit was,

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And that he war ȝitt liffand in sum place.
Than suld his frendis haue les displesance,
And lang tyme sa liffe in esperance.
With that vpone his feit he schupe to stand,
Bot sone agane he swyeit doun wammilland.
He wattit quhen maist myrk was of þe nycht,
And previly he put out all þe licht—
The quene persauit, and lute him allane,
Bot ay scho tuke gude tent quhare he wald gane;
And becaus he culd nowtherane gane na stand,
He tuke to pas on handis and fete crepand.
Quhen þat the quene saw slokit was þe licht,
Quhilk walkand had him waichand all þe nycht,
Saw him pas swa, and followit ay him till,
Sa previly that he wist nocht hir will;
And quhen he come in-to þe galerye,
Evin to the tr[a]p he passis previly,
And quhen he wald haue liftit vp þe tr[a]pe,
Scho gaif ane cry and lichtlie till him lap.

With that þe wachis hard the ladie cry,
And of þe lichtis slokynnyt had ferly,
And lichtit þame agane and come to se,
And had ferly quhat that mycht mene to be;
And fand the quene in armes with þe king,
Baith he and scho liand in a suownyng,
And tuke baith vp and bare þame ben agane.
Bot for to se it was a perleous pane
Betuix thai twa quhan thai recoverit war—
The grevous playnt, þe sorrow, and þe care,
Thare is na toung may tell nor ȝitt recorde.
Scho said till him, “Allace! my souerane lorde,
Quhare is ȝoure witt and ȝoure hie governance,
That thus into a wodnes and a trance
For ony caus suld schape ȝoure-selff to sla?
Allace! my souerane lord, quhy do ȝe sua?
That euer it suld bene recorde of ane king
To sla him-selff, for ony erdlie thing!”
Than he rehersit till hir as of before
The caus quhy he did it and quharefore,
Bot all his caus clerely scho diffast,

227

And gart him grant his erroure at þe last,
Sayand, “Ar ȝe nocht king and empreoure,
Quhilk neuer ȝitt had lak na dishonoure?
And gif ȝe sla ȝoure-selff, quhat will men say?
The honoure þat ȝe wan is quyte away,
For of all werdis þat ar worthiest,
Into this warld gude end is ay the best.”

And in his armes softlie scho him braist,
With swete wordis, and gretand wounder [fast],
And with hir swete mouth kissand him betuene,
And euer the teris tingland oure hi[r] ene,
Sayand, “Watte ȝe nocht weill all mon de,
Fra quhilk of dede na sauf-conduct haue we.
Wald [ȝ]e vndo ȝoure-selff in ȝoure furoure,
Thinkand it suld ȝow saue fra dishonoure?
Bot traistis wele it suld be ȝow mare lak
Na suld this dede, in thank will ȝe it tak;
And sen ȝe watt that ȝe mon nedelingis de,
Resaue ȝoure dede in patience and in gre:
It may nocht lak a poynt of ȝoure honouris—
The schame and lak is done be fals tratouris.
Ȝe haue hard tell of mony wourthy man
Has bene betresit sen first þe warld begane.
Thare is na thing may be perpetuall,
Bot owther in element, in Hevin, or Hell.”
With hir swete langage thus scho mesit his pane,
And brocht him swetlie to his bede agane;
And oft scho tuke him in hir armes twa,
And kist him oft, suppois hir harte was wa,
And ay the teris tigland oure hi[r] ene,
Bot scho wald nocht þat he hir grete suld sene.
He wald haue made hir chere, bot he na mocht,
The dawvmyllis of dede sa occupeit his tocht;
The ladie ay before him made gud chere,
Bot hir allane scho made ane hidduous bere,
Quhile reft hir hede, and quhilum reft hir here—
Mycht na man tell the teynd parte of hir care.

Quhen he had lang tyme fochtin with þe dede,
And at the last saw thare was na remede,
Than send he efter Symon, his notare,

228

His chancellare, quhilk all his selis bare,
Bad him sitt doun and mak his testament,
And roll vp all his landis and his rent,
And all his tressoure and his riches hale,
And all the names to quhome he wald mak dele.
With that the ladie agane fell in swownyngis,
The lordis wepis and thare handis wringis:
Thare was neuer hart in warld þat was sa dry,
To here the greting, þe gouling and þe cry
In that palas amange that lede was lent,
Quhen he began to mak his testament.

The king lay in a swouth, he mycht nocht rise,
And als þe quene in-till a swownyng lyis;
With that the king lichtnit a litill tyn,
Throw the grete clamoure and þe noyis making,
And he beheld the lady quhare scho lay—
It semyt that scho was dede quyte away.
Than in a rammest wodnes vp he rais
Apoun his elbo, and þe lady tais
In his armes, and kist hir oft syis,
And swetlie conforte hir and gart hir rise,
Sayand, “Is this þe conforte þat ȝe gif me?
Ȝoure mekill dolloure haistis me to de.
Ȝe war wount to mak me confortying,
And now ȝoure dolouris haistis my deing.”
Than hir fare armes about his hals scho lais,
And with ane law voce sochtlie till [him] sais,
“My lufe, my lorde, my fallow and my frend,
I may nocht strive agane nature and kynd;
I mak me oft to fenȝe contenance,
For dout that it suld do ȝow displesance,
Bot now I may na mare, I se the end—
I ask at God the dede þat he me send,
That we mycht be erdit in a grave,
Sen latt oure frendis governe all þe lafe.
Fer bettir war to me with ȝow to de
Na liff and se the sorrow þat I will se.”

Scho was with barne, and till hir terme weill neir,

229

And in hir wamb scho feld the barne weill steir;
With þat softlie sichtand scho said, “Allace!
My sueit bird, þow art sone fatherles—
Natur þe moweis to steir into þat bed,
To take displesance befoir thy fatheris dead.
O my sueit barne, God giue I hade þe paine,
And thy father war in his heill agane;
Bot sen it pleisis to the godis þat he
Be tane intill his ȝouthead and bewtie,
On force we mone confirme ws to þair will,
For at þe last all mone we pas thair-till.

“Fair lord, heirfoir I pray ȝour excellence
To tak ȝour dead in gre and pacience,
Sen ȝe haue done euir honour in ȝour dayis,
And kepit wirschip in this warld alwayis;
Now think on God, and dispone weill ȝour thing,
That all men say ȝe mak ane guide ending,
And pray that þai ane guide conclusioune send.
All thing is guide þat makis ane guidlie end—
Quhen end is guide, na man can find ane lak.”
With that the testament þai begouth to mak,
In name of Iupiter, Marcus, and Appolyne,
With all þe godis nameis, and eftir syne:

“I, Alexander, monarch and empriour
Off all this warld, with castell, toun, and tour,
Quhilk conqueist hes countrayis mair and les
Fra Paradice to þe Pilleris of Hercules,
And kest my suord far out into þe sie—
Hade mair land beine, mair sould I gart obey;
Syne fra the south to þe north agane
I haue conqueisst, with great travell and paine,
And quhat is in the sey ground I haue seine,
And in the air abone þis eard hes beine,
And syne of wyild beastis in wildernes
I fand nevir thing þat maister of me was;
And [five-and-twentie] kynd of seir langage
I haue put vnder tribute and trewage;
The godis als hes done me great honour,
And keipit me in wirschip and valour,

230

And done me oft kyndnes and courtasie,
And of my skaith me warnit and put it by;
At Paradice I was in pilgramage,
And veseit it and tuik of it trewage:
I traist thair sall neuir man cum eftir me
That of sa mony landis lord salbe.”

Syne wreit he vp þe lordschipis and þe landis
Quhilk in þis eard obeyit to his handis;
Syne gart he wreit þe nameis of his meinȝe
Quhilkis he ordand to governe his meingȝe:
Till ouer ȝe land he maid ane governour,
Of princeis maist of wirschip and valour,
And Aristotill his executour he mais,
And at his freindis all his leife he tais.
Thair micht men sie ane pairting petyabill
Betuix thame tua, þat war baith wyise and abill,
Sayand, “Maister, hade þow beine heir with me,
I had na dout of þis poysoun to die,
Bot sen it pleisis to þe godis all,
I mone obey and cum quhane þai me call;
I mak þe, maister, my executour,
And leaveis þe all þe charge and þe cuire
To keip and to fulfill my testament,
As thow will ansur at þe Iudgment.
I leave my saull into my Godis handis,
And all my airis, my lordschippis and my landis;
My bodie intill Igipt for to ly,
Intill my awin citie quhilk foundit I,
Quhilk Alexander is callit, eftir my name—
Thair lyikis me my cors be laid in laime:
Ane hundreth thowsand talentis ȝe sall give
To my chaipleinis, to help þame for to live,
And mak me þair ane staitlie sepulture—
I leave þe all þe charge and þe cuire.
And to þe tempill of þe god Aymone,
And vþeris quhair I haue devotioune,
To Ierusalem, to Greace and Masedone,
Till Iynd, Perse, Athiothie, and Babilone,
Till ilkane fyve thowsand pundis give sall I,

231

To my chaiplainis, to think and pray for me;
Syne ten thovsand to mak my sepulture
In my citie, and give ten to þe puire,
Ane hundreth thowsand for my furth-bringing,
And that be done as fearis till ane king;
And of all landis euirie governour
Sall all obey vnder ane empriour.

“My eldest sone Empriour of Iynd sall be,
And all his mother landis and of Caldie—
That is Alior, þe sone of Queine Candas,
To cum to eild give God grantis him grace;
And giue Roseven be bundin with ane knaife,
All first his motheris landis sall he haife,
And alsua he salbe air to me,
Of Babilone, of Asie, and Hermenye;
And give he cumis to perfectioun,
I will that Alior succeid to þe croune.
Philip, my broder, of Greice and Massedone,
Till hald of my airis of Babilone,
Obey and hald all of ane empriour,
For quhen all kingis obeyis not till ane croun,
Thair commounlie is great devisioun:
Thairfoir I will that he be lord and syir,
And all men for to hald of his impyir,
And all þe kingis and princeis þat I ma,
Of my airis sall hald þair landis alsua.

“King Tholome of Egipt king salbe,
Of Litill Babilone and of Arabie,
And tutour als he sall be to þe chyild,
And governe him quhill þat he cum to eild,
Off all the landis hyne to Oreent,
Ay quhill þe chyild cum sit in iugment.
Rosenen, my spous, hir fatheris land sall haue
Of Pers, and als þe thrid of all þe lave;
Emenedus salbe Prince of Ellarie
And Ierusalem, with it perteinis by;
Obitoun salbe Prince of Romane,
Dauclyne Afrik and Litill Harmane;
Phisoun beis King als of Mesapotanȝe,

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Grotinus baith of þe Granat and of Spanȝe,
Symone, my Chanceller, of Capados,
Of Litill Almanye and Saligos;
Als prince and lord I mak heir Perdicas
Of all þe landis þat war King Nicholas—
Suppois I giue to Tholome þe croune,
He hes ane guid recompensatioun;
Leonides of Listie and of Surry,
Antigonus of Liblie and Freiȝe,
And of Trace salbe King Pletagomus;
Of Anthioche salbe Anthiochus,
Meander salbe King of Sarragos,
Essameus salbe King of Cretas,
And alsua I haue gevin to Dauris
The lordschipis þat langand to Duke Melchis.

“Of Cartage Prince I mak heir Floridas,
The quhilkis þe Admirallis landis was;
The landis of Litill Asie and Poirtyn[e],
I giue þame haill, all to worthie Anthonyne;
To Clarides þe landis of Turkie,
Till Arestes the landis of Meid and Nubie,
To Gaudifer þe landis of Synedatiȝ,
To [P]hilotes þe landis of Balmanie,
Licanor of Calidone and Candie,
And Festioun of Phrige and Pansiotie;
Emenalaus salbe King of Pikarnay,
Arestotill of Atheinis and Thebay—
Als Antepater and his soneis salbe
Princeis of tratouris and of iniquitie.

“And als I ordand peace and rest for ay,
With luife and iustice and guid fay,
And euirie lord to keip law in his land,
To pure and riche, to lawborer and merchand,
And evirie lord be in his lordschip fre,
And als all vþer, in toun, brughe, or citie,
And evirie man to be fre in his awin,
And þat na man with maistre be ouerthrawin.
And giue my wyife be with ane madin chyild,
I will my princeis, quhan scho cummis to eild,
Cheis þame ane empriour with thair awin advyise,

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Quhilk can and may and will keip weill iustice.
And till all baneist men of all regiounis,
I grant thame grace and fre remissiounis,
And als þat all puire presoneris be fred,
And law in evirie countray to be led;
And gar þe cruell pepill of Barbarie
Renunce þair mawmentis and thair tirrany,
And giue thay will thame governe be resoun,
I will that þai haue plane remissioun.”

Into that hour he thus speikand was,
And all men was in dolour in the place—
And all þe day hade beine beith cleir and fair—
Thair come ane suddant tempest in þe air
Of fyir and reid low, thunder, wind, and raine,
Quhill hevin and eird reboundit vp againe,
That lyik it was þat hevin and erd sould b[re]st,
So cruell was that thunder and tempest;
Als sum men said, þat was in þe great tour,
That in þe air was flieand in þat hour
A flicht of draigounis lyik to feindis fell,
Quhilkis newling hade beine fleimit out of Hell;
And in þe samyne hour of þat tempest,
The saull fra him out of the bodie past:
With that þe eard baith trimblit fast and quke,
The tour, the toun, and all þe wallis schuke,
And all þe air was coverit with mirknes,
And all folk fled in caveis for rednes,
That sic ane mirknes sensyne was neuir seine,
Nor ȝit befoir into þis warld hade beine—
The sone drew vp his beameis fra þe eard,
It seimit that God and all þe hevinis had steird,
That sen the tyme of Chryistis passioun,
In hevin was neuir sic ane motioun.

Quhen he was dead, þe tempest ceisit was,
And all the pepill draw haill to þe place,
Inarmit all in[to] þair best array,
To sie thair king, thay wa[r] in sic effray,
The folk of Greice, of Perce, and Massedone,
The men of Iynd, Caldie, and Babilone,
And to þe paleice come with sic ane feir

234

As thay wald pas to battell or in weir,
To sie thair king, thair hartis was sa wa—
Once thay said “Keill!” all that thay micht ouerta.
With þat thay oppinit the portis haistelie,
With sic ane greitting, gowling, and a cry—
Thay brocht him but into his bed lyand,
All cled in claith of gold both fas and hand;
Thay saw he micht nather speik nor steir—
The folk maid sic ane clamour and a beir,
Thay saw that he was endit and away,
Into goldin cleithing quhair he lay,
And evirie man desyirit to sie his face,
All with a schout cryand with mony “Allace!”
Into þe greatest hall þair laid he was,
That evirie man micht sie him at þair eas.
The lordis weipit and thair handis wrang,
The pepill ȝamerit with a sorrowfull sang,
With sic ane hedious lamentatioun.
A thowsand knichtis and ladyis lay in soun,
Thay war sa abaisit of thair governement—
Thay said, “Allace, þe pepill is bot schent!”
Quhill Arestotill come in thair conforting,
Prayand þe pepill to ceis of þair murning,
And dreid thame nathing of thair governance,
For thay sould mak sa gudlie ordinance
That all þe pepill sould appleisit be,
And that within schort tyme thay sould sie
Prince Alior, the kingis sone and air,
Of sevin ȝeir auld, ane worthe lord and fair,
The quhilk sould be þair lord and governour,
And eftir his father baith king and empriour,
The quhilk was sone to worthie Queine Candas,
Quhilk thay sould gar cum sone into þat place,
Richt as his father, sould be lord and syir,
To governe thame and all þe haill impyir
(For Rosenen, for that scho lay in soune,
Hir birth come neuir to guide perfectioun).
This quhen [the pepill] was in thair furour,
He comfort thame and slaikit þair dolour,
And gart a quhyill þe cry and clamour failȝe,

235

Bot sone eftir it micht na thing availȝe.

Thane Arestotill to hald þe goverment,
As it was wreittin in his testament:
He gart tak vp his corse and wesch it cleine,
That all micht sie þat slane he had not beine,
And cled him intill his awin array,
And on ane goldin tapace thay doune him lay,
With croune on head and septur in his hand,
Richt as he war in perliament sittand.
Syne come befoir all his officers,
His servandis, maisseris, and his messingers,
And laid thair wandis of office doun him by,
And gaife ouer all þair office haillely.
Quhen that the pepill hade sein him at þare list,
And that he was vnwondit all men wist,
Bot that he was desavit with poysoun,
And wist quha hade ordand þat treasoun,
Thay vncled him of all his vestamentis,
And him anoyntit with precious oyntmentis,
Syne bowelleit him and spyiceit him in þe cors,
And in a chairet of fore-and-tuentie hors,
Maid of fyne gold with mekill craft and cure,
Ordanit to laid him to his sepultur;
And in his habeit royale as of befoir
Thay laid him doune the pepill all befoir,
With croune and septour as he aucht to be cled.
Thay laid him doune vpone ane goldin bed,
Quhill all the citie com him for to sie,
For sa the custum was in that countrie,
That mene micht sie his persoun and his plyt,
Sa of his deid þat na man sould haue wyit,
For mistrowing of murdour and of changing,
To gar thame wene ane vther war þe king.

Bot quhane þe rumour past throw þe citie,
And all come to þe paleice for to sie,
Sic petie was neuir hard into na place
Sen the first tyme that Adame formit wace:
The peteous cry, the schouting, and þe clamour
Wald brist þe hart of ony creatour,
That lyik it was ane eirding or ane sound

236

That in ane storme cumis fra þe seyis ground—
The motioun of þe pepill and the thrang,
The rattilling of armit men amang,
For clattering and for clinking of harnes,
Thair micht nane heir ane word in all þe place.

And give the reader doubtis þat I lie,
Behauld into þe Lateine buik and sie,
And thow sall find that I feinȝe the nocht,
Quhen þow þe buike in this maner hes socht,
For I wald not, for dreid of misdeming,
That men sould say it war lyik a leasing,
Sa mekle as in my buike I f[a]nd,
Bot giue I hade for me ane guide warrand;
For trewlie I haue heir seine mony caice
Quhilkis, hade I not seine thame in vther place,
I sould neuir haue gevin ferme credence to it,
Nor with my awin [hand] put it in wreit.
And to this poynt that I will now rehears,
And with my hand wreittis in this wers:
I reid not þat mankynd allanerlie
Maid sic regreit and dolour petiouslie,
Bot als the hevin drew fra þe earth his licht,
And soneis bame tint hir vertew and micht,
The hour that his saull past fra his bodie;
Als sone the sone maid clipping generallie,
That fra this earth his beameis he withdrew,
And wes ouersyillit with ane selcouth hew,
Quhill sic ane mirknes was into þe air
Thait thair was na man nor he had dispair,
That sic ane tressoun and ane foirfaltour
Displeisit all þe godis of nature;
And als sic clamour, greitting, and gowling,
Wringing, wrything, ȝamering, and ȝoutting
Quhilk thair was maid for him of manis stevin,
Grevit God and all þe angellis of Hevin,
With sic a lamentatioun and beir
That thair micht na man byid it for to heir,
Sayand, “The maik of him was neuir, nor sall—
Allace! giue we hade endit with him all,
For neuir haue ioy eftir him we may,

237

Our lyife salbe bot deing evirie day.”

Sa reuthfullie and oft thay cryit “Allace!”
“Adew, fairveill, our confort and blyithnes,
Adew,” thay said, “our lyife, adew our dead,
Adew, our wit, our counsall, and our read,
Adew, fair-veill, our haill and our seiknes,
Adew, our warldlis ioy and our solace,
Adew, fair-weill, [þow] deis heir thy allane,
Quhilk daylie held þe lyife of mony ane.
Now will thy scheip be skaillit in þe feild,
To quhome daylie þow was baith speir and scheild.
Adew, fair-weill, quha micht baith saife and sla,
Quha could weill wit quhome to, baith freind and fa;
Adew, fair-weill, our houp, our haill, our grace,
Fair-weill, the best chiftan þat euir was—
God giue thy dead haid beine to deall with handis,
To pas with the in ony eardlie landis.
Adew, quhome serve was neuir man ȝit irk,
Bot all men blyithlie thy bidding for to wirk.
Adew, fair-weill, of chevelrie the flour,
In warld sall neuir cum sic ane empriour,
Maist worthie, fre, maist bauld, hardie, and wicht,
In warld was neuir nor sall be sic ane knicht:
Thy lawtie, fredome, and thy wirschip hie
Hes gart the thus with all men luifeit be,
The wall of wisdome and of hie prudence,
Of nobilnes, vertew, and excellence,
Ay full of blyithnes and benignitie.
Allace! quhy thoillit God þe sa sone to die?
Adew, quhom followit flour of victorie,
Adew, of hardie men the maist hardie.”

Of his laying in sepulture

With that the dusperis tuik him vp in feir,
And laid him syne vpone ane goldin beir,
And syne vpone ane cheriot of gold sa fyine,
All oppinlie, intill his awin cleithing,
With croune on head and septur in his hand;
Syne with the fairest cursouris þat þai fand,
Trappit with claithis of gold richt richelie,

238

Thay led him throw þe citie oppinlie:
Bot þane till heir the murmour and þe sound,
Thare was neuir hart sa hard bot it would stound.
The princeis all, richt deadlyik in thair cheir,
In syid blak habeittis red about his beir,
And all þe hoist, baith knicht, knaife, and slaife,
Thay left him neuir, nor neuir wald turne againe,
That na man partit fra him, knicht nor knaife,
Quhill that þai saw him laid intill his graife.
And furth thay past till Igypt in þair way,
With monie loud cry and valaway,
The quhilk is fourtie iurnayis wele, or mair.

Thair micht nan count the sorrow that was thair:
The hoist for sorrow micht neuir sleip ane wink,
And litill coist thay maid on meit or drink—
Thair supper was bot siching, syith, and sorrow,
And war to their denner on þe morrow,
That sic ane beir, a clamour, and torment
Was neuir, nor salbe to þe Iugement,
Sayand, “Fair[-weill], our ioy is at ane end—
Allace! quhy will not God þe dead ws send?”
Sic sorrow was þat na man could presume,
Nor neuir man in wreit could all resume—
Be my lawtie, trewlie þe storie sayis
The clamour ceasit nather nicht nor dayis,
That quhan ane meinȝe left, ane vther begane—
It was not lyik to be ane voice of man,
Bot mair lyik was of houndis þe ȝouling,
Quhar mony makis togither þair gowling,
That þair was nane þat of the dule was fre,
Sa weill loveit with all mankynd was he;
Quhill he was put intill his sepulture,
Thay seisit not þare cry and pair clamour,
That to thair hart þair come thair sic a knell.

Thane in thair sowning be thowsandis doune þai fell,
And mony deit þair, that neuir rais vp againe,
For sorrow thay hade of his dead and paine,
That war of [þe] pepill and commountie,
Quhilk cumin war his sepultur to sie,
That sum men said þair was a millioun

239

Of pepill of Igipt and of Babilone.

Bot for to sie the petious departing
Betuix the men of armis and the king:
Sum kest thair armis on his sepultur,
And rammisand ran to the tempill dur,
And forsuike armis thair for euirmair;
Sum vther tuike sic sorrow and sic cair
That furthwith þair thay suelt into that place;
And vther mony become wod and witles,
For peirles diseas quhilk thay had, and paine,
Quhilkis neuir come into þair wit againe;
And eftirward, as I haue hard record,
Als mony deit for sorrow of thair lord
As deit throw him in weir or battell place,
Sa weill loveit with his meinȝe he was.
Thane Aristotill, quhilk was executour,
Gart sembill the lordis befoir þe sepultur,
And maid thair lamentatiounis regraitand,
The quhilk was thane þe custome of the land,
That lordis, in thair habeit of dolour,
Sould mak regrait abo[ut] þe sepulture,
For to rehears, murnand befoir þe laife,
The wirschip quhilk he worthie was to haife,
And guide maner is in evirie sted
To love all guide [men] eftir þat þai be dead;
And namelie worthie empriour and king
Eftir guide lyife sould euir haue guide loving—
For sic thingis giffis men curage guid to be—
And sua sould lawer men of all degre:
Thus is it guide, quhen ony guide men stervis,
To gife him guide word, quha the guide deseruis.

Of the pitiouus parting of his men fra him, and þair lamentatiounis

Thir lamentatiounis first of ony man
For to rehears, King Tholome begane,
And with ane sair hart, sichand anis or twyis,
Said, “Alexander, in thy graife quhar thow lyis,
I dar weill say in this warld not was
Sa mekle vertew in sa litell space.”

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Emenedus

“[Quhat] waillis visdome or vertew,
Quhane tresoun may ane worthie prince vndo—
Allace that evir thow sould ly thair sa dume,
Quhilk all þis warld with wit micht not ouercum;
He quhilk þis warld all conqueist quhair he ȝeid,
Now lyis full law, þair will na man him dreid;
Quhair all this warld micht skantlie him suffice,
Now is content of sevin fut quhair he lyis;
He quhilk of men was quhylum maist michtie,
Now hes na man intill his cumpanie:
The quheill of Fortoun turnis rycht sone about,
To-nicht a lord, to-morne nan vill him doubt.”

Caulus

“He quhilk all gold in warld had at biding,
Thair is not left to him ane small farding,
And ȝit not thane his libertie and fredome
Hes maid all this warld for to ouercum.”

Perdicas

“He that was wont to traill in clathis of gold,
Lyis now full law ouercoverit with þe mold—
Quhat profeittis ws our careoun cleith to-day,
And syne to-morne ly rottand in þe clay?”

Licanor

“Was wont in gold paleice to duell at hame,
Lyis now hid in litill hirne of lame.
He was baith fair of hyid, hew, and fessioun,
Quhilk lyis now rottand lyik ane foull careoun.”

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[Leonides]

“Quha hade at lyiking mony ane fair ladie,
Now foull wormis lyis nerrest his bodie:
All warldlie fairnes failȝeis as ane flour,
All lust of man sall end within ane hour.”

[Antigonus]

“Quha eitt best meit, denteis, spyce, and wyne,
Now is his bodie full of foull vermyne:
Quha eittis best meit, and lyik[is] maist lustie laidis,
His flesche is foullest eftir þat he dead is.”

[Antheocus]

“Quha wont was all þis warldlis welth to haife,
Now rottis in pulder, puirer nor his knaife;
Quhen lyife is out, thane is thair na remeid—
Bettir dog on lyife nor lyoun that is deid.
Quho wont was in word and deid to wirk,
Lyis now full still, ane word he may not speik;
And all this warld obeyit him, far and neir—
Thair will na boy now for his bidding steir.”

[Dorides]

“His wit in logik and astronomie
Micht not fra dead ane hour saife his bodie,
And all that wit[t], clergie, and scieence,
May litill stand as now in his defence.”

[Flissoun]

“Olimpias, Candas, nor Phisomas,
Nor all the fair ladyis that euir was,
Nor all his micht, his fairnes, nor his force,
Micht not fra dead ane hour defend his cors.”

[Floridas]

“He flaw on heicht and saw þe warld sa round,
And saw the ferleis at þe seis ground,
And all þe warld ouertred with his meingȝe—
Now quhair he lyis, may nather heir nor sie.”

[Dauriȝ]

“Quhat vaillis it heir to mak conquesing

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To men that hes ane sufficyent lefing,
To wyne ane name, quhilk is bot warldlie gloir,
And put in perrell saull and lyife thairfoir.”

[Obiton]

“Quhat profeittis it þis warldis guide to wine,
With great travell, with sorrow, and with sine,
And quhen that [w]e wald fainest haue guide cheir,
We ar remuffit richt suddantlie fra heir.”

[Phison]

“Quha [was] redoubtit to þe warldis end,
And for his lettiris great tribute to him send,
Baith kingis, princeis, and lordis of hie curage,
Lyis rottand now, far puirer nor his peage.
[Be] mony takinis of his natiuitie
And at his ending now sen[e] haue we,
And how the craigis closit at his prayer,
It was lyik to godis he sould be deir.”

[Gotunus]

“Ane angell into Ierusalem was sent,
And bad þe bischop be obedient,
And meit him with the haill processioun,
Baith men of kirk and commounis of the toune,
Quhilk come not throw his power nor his mycht—
This seimis he was ane send of God almycht.”

[Plepagonius]

“Quhat vaillis strenth of persoun or fairnes,
Or hie office, great lordschip and riches,
Nor all the welth þat natur hes heir wrocht,
Quhen in ane moment all þis turnis to nocht.”

[Meander]

“It is not sa great pitie for to sie
Ane man of eild by cours of natur die,
Bot pitie is to sie ane croune degraid
Into the flour of bewtie and ȝouthead.”

[Assameus]

“And namelie haifand sa great governall

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As to be empriour of this warld all-haill,
And syne him-self beand sa kyndlie wyis,
And sa weill set in vertew and iustice.”

[Tarquinius]

“The tinsell is not allanerlie þat he
In flour of ȝouthead fra his freindis die,
Bot for [pite] of weir and distrubillance,
Quhilk now sall ryis for falt of gouernance.”

[Archemenalaus]

“He was mair dred for his word or his bill
Nor all the kingis in earth, bayth guid and ill,
And mair wit could his persoun devyis
Nor all þe clarkis fra hyne to Paradyis.”

[Anthominus]

“Sen that we mone on force his dead indure,
Throw will of God and cours of nature,
Thair is na eardlie thing may ever lest—
Best is to leafe quhan that the play is best.”

[Arestotill executor]

“Sen it is sua that he is tane away,
And him for duile recover [we] no [m]ay,
I can not sie quhat is best to do þairfoir,
Bot hald him in perpetuall memoir,
And pray to Him quhilk well is of guidnes
To tak him in His mercie and His grace. Amen.”

Than Aristotill, with all the lordis assent,
Fullfillit the poyntis of the testament,
And all the gold deliuerit quhar he bad,
Quhilk in his testament ordand he haid;
And syne wreit lettreis hame to Massedone,
And fra thyne passit all to Babiloine.
Thane Aristotill and all the lordis bedeine
Schuip to comfort Rosevein the queine,
Quhilk was with chyild, and at the falland fuit,
Sayand þat to mak sorrow was na buite,
And for to keip hir barne fra perischeing,
That oft befallis to wemen for murning,
For les ill war to tyne him, and na ma,
Nor tyine hir-self and syne hir barne alsua.

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And quhen the word was cum to Massedone
That dead was Alexander into Babilone,
Thane Antepater, quhilk hade contriuit þe trane,
Quhan he þat hard, in hart was wonder fane,
And furthwith into Bartane schuip to pas,
For to speik with the King Pensionas,
Of quhome þe father Alexander had slane,
Quhen to King Philip he had wrocht þe trane:
Quhen Alexander was past in Hermenie,
He come vpone him with ane great meingȝe
In Massedone, for Queine Olimpias,
With quhome lang tyme in peramouris he was—
And ȝit not thane of him [he] held his land,
And was his man, and held him no cu[nnand];
And he come on him with ane great power,
And wondit him and left him lyand thair;
Bot Alexander syne come in suddantlie
To wrak his faþiris dead deliuerlie,
And slew his men, and chaist þame for that deid,
And gart King Philip slay him or he deid.

And be þe caus þat King Pensionas
The mother brother of Antepater was,
He loveit neuer King Alexander for-thy,
Bot set for his [wndoing] ithandlie;
And past to the ȝoung Pensionas
Quhen dead and e[r]dit Alexander was,
And kist als how þe queine þai wald vndo,
And schuip þe way how thay micht cum þarto;
And with ane power come into þe nicht,
And enterit in þe paleice with ane slicht,
And spuilȝeit it, and tuike þat þai wald haife,
And syne put fyir and brint vp all þe laife;
And syne gart tak the Queine Olimpias,
And cast hir ouer þe wallis of þat place,
And wald not thoill na man hir cors to ta,
To burie hir, but left hir lyand sua,
Quhill all hir freindis micht vpone hir rew—
Syne dogis raife hir and hir bainis gnew.
And syne ouerred and stroyit all þe land,
For Philip ȝit ȝoung was, and not ryidand,

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Nor was not cumin to perfectioun,
Nor was not ȝit resauit to þe croune—
All this mater it war ouer teir to tell,
Nor great profeit is not heir lang to duell.

Bot speik we now of Rosenein the queine,
Quhilk in disease and great dolour hes beine,
Quhilk bair hir fair and weill—hir tyme hes past,
And into Perse scho passit at þe last,
Quhilk, as men said, ane barne to him scho bair,
Quhilk in this buike I speik of hir na mair.
Bot, as wreittin is in the testament,
Syne come discord, distrublance, and torment
Amangis the dusperis, princeis, and þe lordis—
It war ill to rehears all þar discordis.

Syne Arestotill, with all þe princeis haill,
Schuip thame till ardand for the gouernall
And the menteining of þe great impyir,
And quha sould be þair richteous lord and syir.
Thane Arestotill, quhilk was executour,
Said Tholome sould be thair governour
Quhill Aleor war cumin till his eild,
The quhilk was of great ȝouthhead, bot ane chyild;
And all þe [princis] tane to purpois h[e]s
To send letteris to fetche Queine Candas,
And that scho sould hir ȝoung sone with hir bring,
For [he] sould be thair empriour and king,
And that scho come with sic powar and force,
With-out perrell that scho mycht bring hir cors,
Quhill he war enterit anis in þair keiping—
Syne sould thay ordane for his governing.
The queine resauit þe letteris with blythnes,
And vther lettiris wreittin sone scho hes
Wntill hir eldest sone, Cande[o]lus,
Sayand till him, “Deir sone, it standeth thus:
Sen we haue tint our lord and governour,
Quhilk of þis warld was king and empriour,
And he left intill his testament
That Tholomie sould haue þe goverment
Quhill that his sone, thy brother, come till age,
And for till governe wit haue and knawlege,

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And Arestotill to be at his teitching,
In quhome he traistit maist of ony thing,
And biddis me bring the chyild to Babilone;
Quhairfoir, to haue thy counsall thairvpone,
Thairfoir, deir sone, quhen þow [þis] pistill sie,
In guidlie hais[t] thow cum to Tars to me,
And bring with the ten thowsand men of weir,
The best thow hes, weill boidin in thair geir,
To lead thy brother Alior and me
To Babilone, þair for to crovnit be.”

To Candeolus [the] letteris present war,
The quhilk furthwith gaderit ane great power
Of Middill Iynd, quhilk was his motheris land,
Thocht scho in Tars was commounlie duelland,
And wnto Tars he cvmis with blyithnes,
Quhair baith his brother and his moþir was;
And sone þair lordis of counsall callit thay,
And ordand thame for to pas on thair way,
And ordand hir cubikill ritchelie,
Quhar Alexander and scho was wont to ly,
The quhilk ran on [four-and-twenty] quheillis of bras,
Quhilk all of christell and of beriall was,
The quhilkis was worth of thowsandis mony scoir—
The properteis I haue ȝow tauld befoir.
With [four-and-twenty] oliphantis it was led,
And thair was of gold [ane] staitlie bed,
Wpone the quhilk sat Prince Alior
In ritche array, and his mother him before,
And mony a ritche iovell him besyid,
With mony worthie knycht of man of pryid,
That trumpit vp and passit furth a pas.

In that cubikill mony fair ladie was;
It was ouerbundin with bandis of gold [OMITTED]
“And all his foirfait to þ[i] maiestie;
Thus, and ȝe wald pas hither, and ane hoist,
Ȝe sall revenge ȝow, and be worth ȝour coist.

247

Thus may ȝe weill on thame revengeit be,
For ȝe haue haill þe hartis of that cuntre,
And thay are heatit for ȝour father dead,
For all guide men hes thame at mortall fead.”

The king was thair, and that weill tuik in hart,
And furthwith sendis his pistill in all pairt,
And sumoundis all the princeis, far and neir,
To pas to the crovning of his vncle deir;
And quhen the lordis thus-gait semblit was,
Thay ordand first to pas þair Perdicas,
The quhilk was ordand vndir Philippone
To governe all þe landis of Massedone
Quhill that the barne war cumin to knawlege,
The quhilk was ȝit bot of ane tender age,
And he sould all þe governance espy,
Thair duelling and þair deidis haillely,
And that with him ȝoung Philippone, þat is tender,
Quhilk brother was to gude King Alexander—
Bot [nocht] borne to the Queine Olimpias,
Bot to þe last queine, Cleopatras.

Thane Perdicas in [all] haist maid him boune
To Massedone to pas with Philippone,
And with thame tuik he a few meingȝe,
Quhill thay the maner of the land sould sie.
Sa was the father of Cleopatras
The brother of Senescall Ionas,
Quhilk Alexander intill his ȝounger age
Hade slane, for the dispyit of þe mariage—
For scho was dochter to the King Gowlas,
Quhilk King of Pincerne in tha tymeis was,
Quhilk Arestotill hade charge in testament
For to fulfill that mareage or he stent.
Thane Arestotill that mareage for to ma
Gaue commissioun to Perdicas alsua,
And baid him not move na maner of faid
Till ony man of Alexanderis dead,
And gar men trow þa[t] for na caus come he
Bot onlie for to marie Tholome
With the fair ladie Cleopatras,
Quhilk King Philipis secund spowsall was

248

(And left him [a]ir intill his testament,
For dreid of Godis rychtteous iugment—
Suppois King Philip maid him air him till,
Percaice it was in force and not fre will,
And wist weill þat ȝoung Philip was haill
His propir barne and his sone naturall—
For all law sayis, as I haue hard discriue,
Tha[t] natural proceidis adoptyve.)
Thus with that ladie Cleopatras,
Quhilk Philippone of Greiceis mother was,
The day was set þe mareage for to mak,
With all þe linage, for þe ladyis saik,
Of Ionas slauchter for to stensche the faid
Of all þe dusperis þat was at his dead,
For he was of þe greatest kine in Greice,
Baith Ionas brother dochtir and his neice.
Thane Antepater was duelland in Britane,
And held him thair, and come not hame agane,
In cumpanie with ȝoung Pensionas,
Fra thay had slane the Queine Olimpias.

Thus Perdicas hes done his charge weill,
And all þe poyntis fulfillit euirie deill,
And Philippone enterit to King Gowlas,
Quhilk father was to Cleopatras.
Thane was þe chyild of Massedone þe king,
Intill his awin guide service governing;
And quhen all thingis thus weill accordit was,
Thane of þe mareage set thay day and place,
And tuike his leife at ladyis euirilkone, [OMITTED]
And tauld his charge and þair ansuering,
Quhilk pleisit mekle þe lordis and þe king.
Thane tauld he all þe maner to þe king
Of thair devyis and of þair purpoising,
And how ȝoung Philippone sould crownit be,
And als the mareage maid of Tholomie,
And at þe soverane King of Babilone
Behuifeit vpone his head to set a croune;
And throw sic maner sould he get ane wyill
The cruell trator subtelie to begyill,

249

And gart men trow þat þai sould cum for na thing
Bot onlie for the mareage and crovning,
Thane send thay letteris for King Tholomie,
And out of Igypt brochte a great meinȝe,
Of Pers, of Iynd, of Cartage, and Candas,,
Of Babilone and mony a mychttie place.

All thus the michtie King of Babilone
Hes tane þe way to pas in Massedone,
At his fair emeis crowning for to be,
And als þe mareage of King Tholomie.
Quhen thay war semblit and numerit in battaill,
Thay war of men thre hundreth thowsand haill,
And furth þai past in Greice and Massedoine,
And ordand for to croune King Philippone,
Als for the mareage of King Tholomie,
And that thay baith vpone ane day sould be.
Thane gart thay cume the worthe King Gowlas,
With him his dochter Cleopatras,
And all thay semblit in-to Massedone,
And thair thay gaue King Philippone þe croune,
Syne maid the mareage of King Tholomie—
Sic mirth thay maid that it was ioy to sie.
And thocht thay maid thame for to croun a king,
Thair hart was mair vpone ane vþer thing;
Bot Antepater was passit into Britane,
And thocht nocht to cum in Massedone agane;
Quhen that he hard Alexander had a sone,
He was sa wa he wist not quhar to wone,
And held him ay with King Pensionas
Of Britane, quhilk his covsing german was—
Thay hade sic dreid of worthe Tholomie,
Thay durst not duell at hame in thair countre,
For thay hade euir ane dreid and ane dispair
That at þe last it sould not fall þame fair,
For thair sall neuir tratour of na croune
Cum till he honour, wirschip, nor renoun.

Thus quhen the king hade bein in Massedone,
And crovnit hade the ȝoung King Philippon,
And maid the mareage of King Tholomie,
He gart men [trow] he wald in his countrie,

250

And thocht to visie ȝoung Pensionas
Or ony word was cumin to his place;
And furth thay past into guide array,
And ceisit neuir, naþer nicht nor day,
With euir alyik ryidand and baitand,
Quhill thay war cumine into Britane land,
And or men wist þat he thair cummand was,
Thair was a battell set befoir þe place;
And all þe countrie þai set wacche and waird,
And set thair battell, reirgaird and vangaird,
And laid þe sage clos to þe toun aboutt,
For thair the tratouris war, withouttin doubt.
And not for-thy it was ane strang citie,
Ȝit war thay red, as tratouris ay will be,
And quhen thay wist it was King Aleor,
Thane war thay mekle fearder thane befoir—
Becaus thair tressoun was sa oppin kend,
Thay hade nather hap nor grace þame to defend.
Bot thay quhilk had thair graith ay reddie boun,
Within schort space on force þai wane the toune,
And all the tratouris sone in handis tane—
All that consentand war, thair schaipit nane—
And maid ane informatioun or thay ȝeid
Of all that war consentand of þat deid,
Baith of his grand-dame, Queine Olimpias,
And of his faþir, all was in that place;
And quhen þe tratouris war in handis tane,
Na harme not skaith thay did to vþeris nane.

And sone thay festinit ȝoung Pensionas,
With all that slew Queine Olimpias,
And syne the tratouris of the kingis dead
Wer all seisit and fetterit in þat steid;
And syne past to þe citie of Massedone,
The quhilk but maisteris lang tyme left allone,
And set ane perliament in þe samyne place.
And thair was faltit King Pensionas,
And all the tratouris quhilkis war in þat steid,
That airt or pairt was of his guide-moþeris dead,
And thair keipit þe tratouris of þe croune,
To led and be iudgeit into Babilone,

251

And syne thay send for Cleopatras,
And syne eftir hir father, King Gowlas,
And left thame till his eme as governouris.
To governe him in wirschip and honouris.
And thair thay feastit [fiftene] dayis haill,
With halking, hunting, iusting, and revell,
And syne with haill battell thane purpoisit thay
To pas to Babilone þe neirest way,
And to set ane perliament suddantlie,
Quhar all the land was semblit halelie—
The quhilkis with bettir will semblit was
That thay hade brocht þe tratouris to that place
For to be iugeit into Babilone,
To pleis þe pepill and lordis of the toune,
For sen thair could na vþer sic remaid,
Bot onlie skaith for skaith and dead for dead,
Ȝit wald it do men great consolatioun
To sie tha tratouris tak pvnisioun
Into þe place quhair thay hade done þair deid,
And eftir tha[y] deservit to tak þair meid.
The perliament set was on thre moneth and mair,
That all men that desyirit to be thair
Sould haife laser anewuch and advyising
To cum and sie revengiance for the king,
And als the great and hard punitioun
That aw to be for cryme againis þe croune,
To gar men dreid for to commit sic thing
Againis thair lord of natur or thair king.

The lordis semblit into perliament,
And tuike to counsall quhat iudgment
Thair sould be done þat did this great tresoun,
Quhilkis micht not haue ouer hard punitioun.
The king was set with septour, suord in hand,
And croun[e] on head, his duspeiris followand,
And all the lordis and folk of þat cuntray
War semblit þair, þair iugement for to sie.
Thair war the tratouris brocht in audience,
To sie quhat wald thay say for þar defence,
Bot schortlie thay hade nathing for to say—
For dreid of dead þar wit was sa away.

252

Bot, as men said, the principall caus was
For the slauchter of King Pensionas,
King of Britane, quhilk raisit all þe faid,
For Alexander him slew and put to daid,
First for the slauchter of King Philippone,
His father, quhilk was King of Massedone,
And wald haue reveist als his mother deir,
And ȝit his father leifand haill and feir.
Thus Antepater was his sister sone,
In housald with him quhen the deid was done;
Bot all was tresoun the end and begyning,
For thay held all thair landis of þe king,
And all for wrangus caus it begane—
He held of him and was his leige man,
And first he wald haue tane his wyife him fra,
And syne with treasoune schuip him-self to sla;
Syne maid the ta slauchter the totheris daid,
And in this maner rissin was all the faid,
Throw quhilk four kingis daid ar and a queine—
Quhilk bettir war sic loue hade neuir beine,
For oftymeis wrangous love againis þe law
Garris monie ane guide man to þair ending draw,
Bot namlie of forceing and adultre
Garris mekle sorrow happin commounlie,
And oftymeis bringis sorrow quhair was ioy,
As befoir happinit in the tyme of Troy,
And als in mony vther auld storyis,
Quhilkis, and men wald, micht learne thame to be wyise.

Thane ordainit thay that thir tratouris sould be
First naikit set vpone ane piller hie,
And men of armis for to keip thame vnder,
That evirie man micht cum and on thame wonder,
And syne the father to be tane of force,
And his four memberis cupplit to four hors,
The starkest men micht find of all þe laife,
Syne ilk-ane hors ane ryider on him haife,
And syne ilkane fra vther fast to dryife;
Quhen that is done, the bodie hing and draw
Throwout the toune, quhilk euirie man micht saw,

253

Syne be þe hals the bodie hingit sould be,
That euirie man thair fill sould on him sie;
The head syne set vpone ane stalk to pyne,
And all the bodie brint in pulder fyne,
And ane of his memberis hing in Babilone,
The thre in Igipt, Pers, and Massedone.
And for his tuo soneis thair ordand was
Alhaill within ane mekle ox of bras,
And syne ane greit [fire v]nder to mak
Quhill it war het, and syne the tratouris tak,
And on a goife naikit þame set on heicht,
Quhill all þe warld þair wonder on þame mycht,
And syne eftir to tak thame naikit doune,
And vpone traillis draw þame throw þe toune,
And syne, ane memor of thai crueel daid,
Quhen-euir that ox war glowand in a gleid,
To tak thame baith and cast thame naikit thair,
Quhill thay war brint in pulder, les and mair,
That all micht þe vengeance on þame sie,
That thay war puneischit for thair crueltie;
The fatheris bodie in the samyne wyis tane
And castin in, and brint, bayth flesche and bane;
The powder syne be tane and cloisit weill,
And in a caip of laid, bundin with steill,
And syne with cheingȝeis festinit sickerlie,
And hangit hie vp till ane pillarie,
And into great lettres wreittin into brais
That heir the prince of tratouris memor was.
All this was done eftir þe iugment,
Of quhilk the pepill was sa weill content
That thir tratouris gat sic pvnitioun;
Syne all þe warld gaue þame thair malesoun—
Quharfoir great folie is to vndertak
Againis a prince a tressoun for to mak,
For all first thay ar cursit of thair deid,
And eftir syne waryit with all leid,
And evir salbe vnto þe day of Dome,
Quhen ony man that treasoun will resume.
And heir I giue thame my hartlie malesoun,
Quha-euir consentis to do a prince treasoun,

254

It is not onlie skaith in ane degre,
Bot tinsell, baith in realme and commyntie.

The king was ȝoung, and of a tender age,
And was all governit be his baronage,
The princeis and the lordis halelie,
Quhilkis of the impyir held the seingȝorie.
Thay semblit syne to mak þair ordinance,
Quha of the king sould haue the governance:
Thane Arestotill brocht furth the testament,
Quhil[k] ordainit Tholome to haue the government,
As governour and tutour of the chyild,
Quhill he war cumin to his perfyit eild.
The laife murmourand and thocht great dishonour
That he allane sould be maid governour—
Not thane thay durst not speik it oppinlie,
Bot sone amang thame rais ane great invy,
Bot thay wald not lat with that it was swa,
Bot held it clois and na langage wald ma,
Quhill eftirward in Ynd thair rais discord,
And schupe thame for to tak þe steir on hand,
Sayand thay hade great resoun to that land,
For thay war richteous airis to King Porrus,
Quhilk in battell he hade ouerthrowin thus,
Wrangouslie, and be na way of richt,
Be fortoun, force, maistre, and great micht,
Off quhilkis great God hes tane punitioun—
Thairfoir thay wald mak thame to haue þe croun.

To Rome alsua thay send to ask tribut—
Thay ansurit thame and said i[t] was na bute,
Sayand thay wald na trebut to thame send,
For quhy thair fortoun fast was at ane end.
Thay send also to Granaid and to Spainȝe,
In Tarta[r]y, France, and Almanȝe:
Quhen that thay hard that daid was Alexander,
And that his airis war ȝoung of age and tender,
And þat þe lordis war in discentioun,
The warld wald not be governit be ane croune,
And evirie land drew to þair awin governance,
And shuipe to leife be þair awin ordinance,

255

And cheisit thame kingis ilkane in thair cuntry,
Be quhome þame lyikit best to governit be—
And thus the warld rais in divisioun,
And wald not be all governit be ane croune,
Quhill eftirwart that Iulius Sesar come,
The quhilk gart monie realmeis obey to Rome.

Bot þair was neuir nane þat hade sa haill
As Alexander the saige imperiall,
The quhilk was send be Hevinlie destanie,
Of wickit men a punischer to be,
For first and formest he was kyndlie wyis,
And hade his hart to vertew and iustice,
For he set neuir for vndoing of men,
Bot first into him-self the falt begane.

This buke is not compyillit allanerlie
For kingis and princeis and lordis þat ar mychttie,
Bot till all men that richteouslie wald life,
It sall thame g[u]id teitcheing and exampill gife,
To governe thame with vertew and iustice—
That is to say, and thay wald fane be wyis,
For trewlie, man þat desyiris na wit,
In all his lyife sall neuir cum to it,
Nor in a thrawin hart and ill-willie
Sall neuir wisdome entir, veralie;
Thus, quha that wisdome covettis for to win,
[At] God and guidwill first it mon begine.

Now is our buike brocht fastlie till ane end—
Lovit be þe Lord the drop of grace me send,
The quhilk I askit at þe beginyng
To grant me grace to mak ane fair ending,
Quhan I the making vndertaikin hade,
For to fulfill the hecht that I haife maid,
And at þe instance of the worthie lord,
As in the Prolog we haue maid record,
Quhair I maid promeis for to do my best
Quhill hand and pen and toung and eine micht lest—
For suithfastlie thair mycht na guide be done
Bot giue the grace cum fra the Hevin abone,
As I haue maid ane protestatioun

256

Befoir my awin excusatioun,
The quhilk I will agane eftir rehears,
And with my awin hand wreittis in this vers:
How I prayit all that sould the readeris be,
For thair gentrice thay sould assonȝe me
Gife ony falt be fundit in this dyit,
Or in the maner of spelling that I wreit,
Or gife my langage be not lyik the laife,
For mekle neid and skantnes that I haife
Of mother toung, quhilk garris me seik and borrow
At wyiser men, that hes maid buike affoirrow.

All this that followis is bot the excusatioun
Of him that maid the first translatioun,
Bot in this buike sone eftir ȝe sall sie
Quha causit this buike agane to wreittin be,
Quhair and be quhome, quhat tyme it wreittin was,
In termis schort to ȝow I sall rehears—
I will wreit furth befoir me as I find,
His excusatioun I will not laife behind:
Translaittit it was forsuith, as I hard say,
At þe instance off Lord Erskein, be Schir Gilbert þe Hay,
Quhilk into France trewl[i]e was duelland
Weill [four-and-twenty] ȝeir out of Scotland,
And in the King of Franceis service was,
Quhair of our awin leid he had mair distres
Of conversationn, cumpanie, and collatioun [OMITTED]
Trewlie it is full greit mereit
Guide thingis for to be put in wreit.

Off this to speik now will I lat allane,
And to þe translatour now will I pas agane,
Eftir his wreitting schortlie to conclude,
That þis great storie w[rei]t as he vndirstuide—
Richt sua he wreit with his awin propir hand,
Was neuir befoir translaittit in this land,
That is to say, out of the Frensche leid.

257

Thus worthie war it hade a worthe weid,
For the great honour of the worthe king
Quhilk all the warld had anis in governing;
Als for the worthynes of þe romance,
Quhilk treittis of wisdome and of guide governance,
How kingis and princeis and nobleis sould þa[me] bare,
Baith in the tyme of peace and tyme off ware.

Thankit be God, now neirhand I haue endit
This noble buike, and pairt of faltis mendit,
With help of him that maid the first indyit—
Thair is na man without sum falt may wreit.
Ȝe worthe readeris, richt harlie I ȝow pray,
Quhen ȝe it reid, ȝe help it þa[r] ȝe may,
Sillabis or wordis heir suppois þat I
Throw negligence I haue lattin pas by;
I pray ȝow, readeris—I can not say no mair—
Quhen ȝe it reid, ȝe keip it clein and fair,
Nor bland it not, as blekerris dois of buikeis,
Quhilk to thair honestie full litell or not that luikeis.

Thus I begane in the lustie tyme of Maii,
And endit in August the tuentie-ane day;
The samyne tyme quhen I this buike could end,
Fra Chryist the cours of ȝeiris culd descend
A thowsand four hundreth nyntie ȝeiris and nyne
Fra Chryistis b[er]th ar passit by sensyne;
The samyne ȝeir, the treuth gife I sall tell,
Into this realme thair rang a pestilence fell—
Thair was na man that hade into memoir
That euir hard tell off sic a plaig befoir.

Now haife I said that I can say heirto—
Lovit be þe Lord, that gaue me grace þarto,
And the blissit mother virgine Marie fre,
The angellis, and all the Halie Trintie—
I pray to thame to pray to Hevinis King
To grant ws grace to mak ane guide ending.

Heir endis the buike off King Alexander the Canqueroure

University of Virginia Library

[The Buik of King Alexander]

Of the visioun that com to King Philip

Off the kyndnes of Busefall, and quhow Alexander and he met, and quhow Alexander handlit him.

Off þe incuming of King Nicolas

Quhow Alexander and King Nicolas faucht hand for hand

Off þe making of Tolomee king

Off King Darus' messinger

Off the obedience [to] Alexander [of] þe partis of Rome

Of þe cuming of Alexander in Cartage

His first entrie in þe landis of Tyre

Off the forraye of Gadderis

How Alexander vesyit King Dare in habit dissimillit

Off the tresoun of Alexander contruvit be Dare

Off þe ansure of þe epistill of Dare

The ansure of the epistill of Dare

Off þe thrid batall of Daris

Efter the conquest of Pers

The ordinance and gouernance of Pers

Off the vowis

How Alexander past fra the batall, and of þe poysond madyn.

[Off the Regiment of Princis]

Off the phisnomye

How Alexander past throw þe desertis of Ynde

Off þe spuleȝe of þe riches of Segor

Off Alexander epistill to the King Bragmanaris

How Alexander past foirthirmare in Ynde

How Alexander enterit in þe garding off þe Treis of Son and Mone

Off Alexanderis lamentatioun efter the ansure

How Alexander was sary of his ansure, and Porrus was blyith

How Porrus tuke his leiff, and purvayit for the batall

How he gart his lady Rosenyn pas to Babilon

Off þe argumentis betuix the reiffare of the sey [and] Alexander

Of his laying in sepulture

Of the pitiouus parting of his men fra him, and þair lamentatiounis