 | Middle English metrical romances |  |
383
THE EARL OF TOULOUSE
Ihesu Cryste, yn Trynyté,
Oonly God and persons thre,
Graunt vs wele to spede,
And gyf vs grace so to do
That we may come þy blys vnto,
On rode as thou can blede!
Leue lordys, y schall you telle
Of a tale, some tyme befelle
Farre yn vnkowthe lede:
How a lady had grete myschefe,
And how sche couyrd of hur grefe;
Y pray yow take hede!
Oonly God and persons thre,
Graunt vs wele to spede,
And gyf vs grace so to do
That we may come þy blys vnto,
On rode as thou can blede!
Leue lordys, y schall you telle
Of a tale, some tyme befelle
Farre yn vnkowthe lede:
How a lady had grete myschefe,
And how sche couyrd of hur grefe;
Y pray yow take hede!
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Some tyme þere was in Almayn
An Emperrour of moche mayn;
Syr Dyoclysyan he hyght;
He was a bolde man and a stowte;
All Crystendome of hym had dowte,
So stronge he was in fyght;
He dysheryted many a man,
And falsely ther londys wan,
Wyth maystry and wyth myght,
Tyll hyt befelle vpon a day,
A warre wakenyd, as y yow say,
Betwene hym and a knyght.
An Emperrour of moche mayn;
Syr Dyoclysyan he hyght;
He was a bolde man and a stowte;
All Crystendome of hym had dowte,
So stronge he was in fyght;
He dysheryted many a man,
And falsely ther londys wan,
Wyth maystry and wyth myght,
Tyll hyt befelle vpon a day,
A warre wakenyd, as y yow say,
Betwene hym and a knyght.
The Erle of Tollous, Syr Barnard,
The Emperrour wyth hym was harde,
And gretly was hys foo.
He had rafte owt of hys honde
Thre c poundys worth be yere of londe:
Therfore hys herte was woo.
He was an hardy man and a stronge,
And sawe þe Emperour dyd hym wronge,
And other men also;
He ordeyned hym for batayle
Into the Emperours londe, saun ffayle;
And þere he began to brenne and sloo.
The Emperrour wyth hym was harde,
And gretly was hys foo.
He had rafte owt of hys honde
Thre c poundys worth be yere of londe:
Therfore hys herte was woo.
He was an hardy man and a stronge,
And sawe þe Emperour dyd hym wronge,
And other men also;
He ordeyned hym for batayle
Into the Emperours londe, saun ffayle;
And þere he began to brenne and sloo.
Thys Emperour had a wyfe,
The fayrest oon that euyr bare lyfe,
Saue Mary mekyll of myght,
And therto gode in all thynge,
Of almesdede and gode berynge,
Be day and eke be nyght;
Of hyr body sche was trewe
As euyr was lady that men knewe,
And therto moost bryght.
To the Emperour sche can say:
“My dere lorde, y you pray,
Delyuyr the Erle hys ryght.”
The fayrest oon that euyr bare lyfe,
Saue Mary mekyll of myght,
And therto gode in all thynge,
Of almesdede and gode berynge,
Be day and eke be nyght;
Of hyr body sche was trewe
As euyr was lady that men knewe,
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To the Emperour sche can say:
“My dere lorde, y you pray,
Delyuyr the Erle hys ryght.”
“Dame,” he seyde, “let that bee;
That day schalt thou neuyr see,
Yf y may ryde on ryght,
That he schall haue hys londe agayne;
Fyrste schall y breke hys brayne,
Os y am trewe knyght!
He warryth faste in my londe;
I schall be redy at hys honde
Wythyn thys xiiii nyght!”
He sente abowte euerywhare,
That all men schulde make þem yare
Agayne the Erle to fyght.
That day schalt thou neuyr see,
Yf y may ryde on ryght,
That he schall haue hys londe agayne;
Fyrste schall y breke hys brayne,
Os y am trewe knyght!
He warryth faste in my londe;
I schall be redy at hys honde
Wythyn thys xiiii nyght!”
He sente abowte euerywhare,
That all men schulde make þem yare
Agayne the Erle to fyght.
He let crye in euery syde,
Thorow hys londe ferre and wyde,
Bothe in felde and towne,
All that myght wepon bere,
Sworde, alablast, schylde, or spere,
They schoulde be redy bowne;
The Erle on hys syde also
Wyth xl thousand and moo
Wyth spere and schylde browne.
A day of batayle there was sett;
In felde when they togedur mett,
Was crakydde many a crowne.
Thorow hys londe ferre and wyde,
Bothe in felde and towne,
All that myght wepon bere,
Sworde, alablast, schylde, or spere,
They schoulde be redy bowne;
The Erle on hys syde also
Wyth xl thousand and moo
Wyth spere and schylde browne.
A day of batayle there was sett;
In felde when they togedur mett,
Was crakydde many a crowne.
The Emperour had bataylys seuyn;
He spake to them wyth sterne steuyn
And sayde, so mot he thryue,
“Be ye now redy for to fyght,
Go ye and bete them downe ryght
And leueth non on lyue;
Loke that none raunsonyd bee
Nothyr for golde ne for fee,
But sle them wyth swerde and knyfe!”
For all hys boste he faylyd ȝyt;
The Erle manly hym mett,
Wyth strokys goode and ryfe.
He spake to them wyth sterne steuyn
And sayde, so mot he thryue,
“Be ye now redy for to fyght,
Go ye and bete them downe ryght
And leueth non on lyue;
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Nothyr for golde ne for fee,
But sle them wyth swerde and knyfe!”
For all hys boste he faylyd ȝyt;
The Erle manly hym mett,
Wyth strokys goode and ryfe.
They reryd batayle on euery syde;
Bo[l]dely togedyr can they ryde,
Wyth schylde and many a spere;
They leyde on faste as þey were wode,
Wyth swerdys and axes that were gode;
Full hedeous hyt was to here.
There were schyldys and schaftys schakydde,
Hedys thorogh helmys crakydde,
And hawberkys all totore.
The Erle hymselfe an axe drowe;
An c men that day he slowe,
So wyght he was yn were!
Bo[l]dely togedyr can they ryde,
Wyth schylde and many a spere;
They leyde on faste as þey were wode,
Wyth swerdys and axes that were gode;
Full hedeous hyt was to here.
There were schyldys and schaftys schakydde,
Hedys thorogh helmys crakydde,
And hawberkys all totore.
The Erle hymselfe an axe drowe;
An c men that day he slowe,
So wyght he was yn were!
Many a stede there stekyd was;
Many a bolde baron in that place
Lay burlande yn hys own blode.
So moche blode there was spylte,
That the felde was ouyrhylte
Os hyt were a flode.
Many a wyfe may sytt and wepe,
That was wonte softe to slepe,
And now can they no gode.
Many a body and many a heuyd,
Many a doghty knyȝt þere was leuyd,
That was wylde and wode.
Many a bolde baron in that place
Lay burlande yn hys own blode.
So moche blode there was spylte,
That the felde was ouyrhylte
Os hyt were a flode.
Many a wyfe may sytt and wepe,
That was wonte softe to slepe,
And now can they no gode.
Many a body and many a heuyd,
Many a doghty knyȝt þere was leuyd,
That was wylde and wode.
The Erle of Tollous wan þe felde;
The Emperour stode and behelde:
Wele faste can he flee
To a castell there besyde
(Fayne he was hys hedde to hyde),
And wyth hym erlys thre;
No moo forsothe scapyd away,
But they were slayn and takyn þat day:
Hyt myght non othyr bee.
The Erle tyll nyght folowed þe chace,
And syþen he þanked God of hys grace,
That syttyth in Trynyté.
The Emperour stode and behelde:
Wele faste can he flee
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(Fayne he was hys hedde to hyde),
And wyth hym erlys thre;
No moo forsothe scapyd away,
But they were slayn and takyn þat day:
Hyt myght non othyr bee.
The Erle tyll nyght folowed þe chace,
And syþen he þanked God of hys grace,
That syttyth in Trynyté.
There were slayne in þat batayle
Syxty thousand, wythowte fayle,
On the Emperours syde;
Ther was takyn thre c and fyfty
Of grete lordys, sekyrly,
Wyth woundys grymly wyde;
On the Erlys syde þer were slayne
But twenty, sothely to sayne,
So boldely they can abyde!
Soche grace God hym sende
That false quarell comeþ to euell ende
For oght that may betyde.
Syxty thousand, wythowte fayle,
On the Emperours syde;
Ther was takyn thre c and fyfty
Of grete lordys, sekyrly,
Wyth woundys grymly wyde;
On the Erlys syde þer were slayne
But twenty, sothely to sayne,
So boldely they can abyde!
Soche grace God hym sende
That false quarell comeþ to euell ende
For oght that may betyde.
Now the Emperour ys full woo:
He hath loste men and londe also;
Sore then syghed hee;
He sware be Hym þat dyed on rode,
Mete nor drynke schulde do hym no gode,
Or he vengedde bee.
The Emperes seyde, “Gode lorde,
Hyt ys better ye be acorde
Be oght that y can see;
Hyt ys grete parell, sothe to telle,
To be agayne þe ryght quarell;
Be God, thus thynketh me!”
He hath loste men and londe also;
Sore then syghed hee;
He sware be Hym þat dyed on rode,
Mete nor drynke schulde do hym no gode,
Or he vengedde bee.
The Emperes seyde, “Gode lorde,
Hyt ys better ye be acorde
Be oght that y can see;
Hyt ys grete parell, sothe to telle,
To be agayne þe ryght quarell;
Be God, thus thynketh me!”
“Dame,” seyde the Emperoure,
“Y haue a grete dyshonoure;
Therfore myn herte ys woo;
My lordys be takyn, and some dede;
Therfore carefull ys my rede:
Sorowe nye wyll me sloo.”
Then seyde Dame Beulybon:
“Syr, y rede, be Seynt John,
Of warre that ye hoo;
Ye haue the wronge and he þe ryȝt,
And that ye may see in syȝt,
Be thys and othyr moo.”
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Therfore myn herte ys woo;
My lordys be takyn, and some dede;
Therfore carefull ys my rede:
Sorowe nye wyll me sloo.”
Then seyde Dame Beulybon:
“Syr, y rede, be Seynt John,
Of warre that ye hoo;
Ye haue the wronge and he þe ryȝt,
And that ye may see in syȝt,
Be thys and othyr moo.”
The Emperour was euyll payde:
Hyt was sothe the lady sayde;
Therfore hym lykyd ylle.
He wente awey and syghed sore;
Oon worde spake he no more,
But helde hym wonder stylle.
Leue we now þe Emperour in thoght:
Game ne gle lyked hym noght,
So gretly can he grylle!
And to the Erle turne we agayn,
That þanked God wyth all hys mayn,
That grace had sende hym tylle.
Hyt was sothe the lady sayde;
Therfore hym lykyd ylle.
He wente awey and syghed sore;
Oon worde spake he no more,
But helde hym wonder stylle.
Leue we now þe Emperour in thoght:
Game ne gle lyked hym noght,
So gretly can he grylle!
And to the Erle turne we agayn,
That þanked God wyth all hys mayn,
That grace had sende hym tylle.
The Erle Barnard of Tollous
Had fele men chyualrous
Takyn to hys preson;
Moche gode of them he hadde;
Y can not telle, so God me gladde,
So grete was ther raunsome!
Among them [alle] had he oon,
Was grettest of þem everychon,
A lorde of many a towne,
Syr Trylabas of Turky
(The Emperour hym louyd, sekurly),
A man of grete renowne.
Had fele men chyualrous
Takyn to hys preson;
Moche gode of them he hadde;
Y can not telle, so God me gladde,
So grete was ther raunsome!
Among them [alle] had he oon,
Was grettest of þem everychon,
A lorde of many a towne,
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(The Emperour hym louyd, sekurly),
A man of grete renowne.
So hyt befelle vpon a day
The Erle and he went to play
Be a rever syde.
The Erle seyde to Trylabas,
“Telle me, syr, for Goddys grace,
Of a thyng þat spryngyth wyde:
That youre Emperour hath a wyfe,
The fayrest woman þat ys on lyfe,
Of hewe and eke of hyde.
Y swere by boke and by belle,
Yf sche be so feyre as men telle,
Mekyll may be hys pryde.”
The Erle and he went to play
Be a rever syde.
The Erle seyde to Trylabas,
“Telle me, syr, for Goddys grace,
Of a thyng þat spryngyth wyde:
That youre Emperour hath a wyfe,
The fayrest woman þat ys on lyfe,
Of hewe and eke of hyde.
Y swere by boke and by belle,
Yf sche be so feyre as men telle,
Mekyll may be hys pryde.”
Then sayde that lord anon ryght,
“Be the ordre y bere of knyght,
The sothe y schall telle the:
To seeke the worlde more and lesse,
Bothe Crystendome and hethynnesse,
Ther ys none so bryght of blee.
Whyte as snowe ys hur coloure;
Hur rudde ys radder þen þe rose-floure,
Yn syght who may hur see;
All men þat evyr God wroght
Myght not thynke nor caste in þoȝt
A fayrer for to bee.”
“Be the ordre y bere of knyght,
The sothe y schall telle the:
To seeke the worlde more and lesse,
Bothe Crystendome and hethynnesse,
Ther ys none so bryght of blee.
Whyte as snowe ys hur coloure;
Hur rudde ys radder þen þe rose-floure,
Yn syght who may hur see;
All men þat evyr God wroght
Myght not thynke nor caste in þoȝt
A fayrer for to bee.”
Then seyde the Erle, “Be Goddys grace,
Thys worde in mornyng me mas.
Thou seyest sche ys so bryght;
Thy raunsom here y the forgeue,
My helpe, my loue, whyll y leue
(Therto my trowthe y plyght),
So that thou wylt brynge me
Yn safegarde for to bee,
Of hur to haue a syght,
An c pownde, wyth grete honoure,
To bye þe horses and ryche armoure,
Os y am trewe knyght!”
Thys worde in mornyng me mas.
Thou seyest sche ys so bryght;
Thy raunsom here y the forgeue,
My helpe, my loue, whyll y leue
(Therto my trowthe y plyght),
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Yn safegarde for to bee,
Of hur to haue a syght,
An c pownde, wyth grete honoure,
To bye þe horses and ryche armoure,
Os y am trewe knyght!”
Than answeryd Syr Trylabas,
“Yn that couenaunt in þys place
My trowthe y plyght thee;
Y schall holde thy forward gode
To brynge the, wyth mylde mode,
In syght hur for to see;
And therto wyll y kepe counsayle
And neuyr more, wythowte fayle,
Agayne yow to bee;
Y schall be trewe, be Goddys ore,
To lose myn own lyfe therfore;
Hardely tryste to mee!”
“Yn that couenaunt in þys place
My trowthe y plyght thee;
Y schall holde thy forward gode
To brynge the, wyth mylde mode,
In syght hur for to see;
And therto wyll y kepe counsayle
And neuyr more, wythowte fayle,
Agayne yow to bee;
Y schall be trewe, be Goddys ore,
To lose myn own lyfe therfore;
Hardely tryste to mee!”
The Erle answeryd wyth wordys hende:
“Y tryste to the as to my frende,
Wythowte any stryfe;
Anon that [we] were buskyd yare,
On owre iurney for to fare,
For to see that wyfe;
Y swere be God and Seynt Andrewe,
Yf hyt be so y fynde the trewe,
Ryches schall be to the ryfe.”
They lettyd noþyr for wynde nor wedur,
But forthe þey wente bothe togedur,
Wythowte any stryfe.
“Y tryste to the as to my frende,
Wythowte any stryfe;
Anon that [we] were buskyd yare,
On owre iurney for to fare,
For to see that wyfe;
Y swere be God and Seynt Andrewe,
Yf hyt be so y fynde the trewe,
Ryches schall be to the ryfe.”
They lettyd noþyr for wynde nor wedur,
But forthe þey wente bothe togedur,
Wythowte any stryfe.
These knyghtys neuyr stynte nor blanne,
Tyll to the cyté that þey wan,
There the Emperes was ynne.
The Erle hymselfe for more drede
Cladde hym in armytes wede,
Thogh he were of ryche kynne,
For he wolde not knowen bee.
He dwellyd there dayes three
And rested hym in hys ynne.
The knyght bethoght hym, on a day,
The gode Erle to betray;
Falsely he can begynne.
Tyll to the cyté that þey wan,
There the Emperes was ynne.
The Erle hymselfe for more drede
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Thogh he were of ryche kynne,
For he wolde not knowen bee.
He dwellyd there dayes three
And rested hym in hys ynne.
The knyght bethoght hym, on a day,
The gode Erle to betray;
Falsely he can begynne.
Anone he wente in a rese
To chaumbur to the Emperes,
And sett hym on hys knee;
He seyde, “Be Hym that harowed helle,
He kepe yow fro all parelle,
Yf that hys wylle bee!”
“Madam,” he seyde, “be Ihesus,
Y haue the Erle of Tollous;
Oure moost enemye ys hee.”
“Yn what maner,” the lady can say,
“Ys he comyn, y the pray?
Anone telle thou me.”
To chaumbur to the Emperes,
And sett hym on hys knee;
He seyde, “Be Hym that harowed helle,
He kepe yow fro all parelle,
Yf that hys wylle bee!”
“Madam,” he seyde, “be Ihesus,
Y haue the Erle of Tollous;
Oure moost enemye ys hee.”
“Yn what maner,” the lady can say,
“Ys he comyn, y the pray?
Anone telle thou me.”
“Madam, y was in hys preson;
He hath forgeuyn me my raunsom,
Be God full of myght—
And all ys for the loue of the!
The sothe ys, he longyth yow to see,
Madam, onys in syght!
And c pownde y haue to mede,
And armour for a nobull stede;
Forsothe y haue hym hyght
That he schall see yow at hys fylle,
Ryght at hys owne wylle;
Therto my trowthe y plyght.
He hath forgeuyn me my raunsom,
Be God full of myght—
And all ys for the loue of the!
The sothe ys, he longyth yow to see,
Madam, onys in syght!
And c pownde y haue to mede,
And armour for a nobull stede;
Forsothe y haue hym hyght
That he schall see yow at hys fylle,
Ryght at hys owne wylle;
Therto my trowthe y plyght.
Lady, he ys to vs a foo;
Therfore y rede þat we hym sloo;
He hath done vs grete grylle.”
The lady seyde, “So mut y goo,
Thy soule ys loste yf thou do so;
Thy trowthe þou schalt fulfylle.
Sythe he forgaf the thy raunsom
And lowsydd the owt of preson,
Do away thy wyckyd wylle!
Therfore y rede þat we hym sloo;
He hath done vs grete grylle.”
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Thy soule ys loste yf thou do so;
Thy trowthe þou schalt fulfylle.
Sythe he forgaf the thy raunsom
And lowsydd the owt of preson,
Do away thy wyckyd wylle!
To-morne when þey rynge þe masbelle,
Brynge hym into my chapelle,
And þynke þou on no false sleythe;
There schall he see me at hys wylle,
Thy couenaunt to fulfylle;
Y rede the holde thy trowthe!
Certys, yf thou hym begyle,
Thy soule ys in grete paryle,
Syn thou haste made hym othe;
Certys, hyt were a traytory,
For to wayte hym [wyth] velany;
Me thynkyth hyt were rowthe!”
Brynge hym into my chapelle,
And þynke þou on no false sleythe;
There schall he see me at hys wylle,
Thy couenaunt to fulfylle;
Y rede the holde thy trowthe!
Certys, yf thou hym begyle,
Thy soule ys in grete paryle,
Syn thou haste made hym othe;
Certys, hyt were a traytory,
For to wayte hym [wyth] velany;
Me thynkyth hyt were rowthe!”
The knyght to the Erle wente;
Yn herte he helde hym foule schente
For hys wyckyd thoght.
He seyde, “Syr, so mote y the,
To-morne þou schalt my lady see;
Therfore, dysmay the noght:
When ye here the masbelle,
Y schall hur brynge to the chapelle;
Thedur sche schall be broght.
Be the oryall syde stonde þou stylle;
Then schalt þou see hur at þy wylle,
That ys so worthyly wroght.”
Yn herte he helde hym foule schente
For hys wyckyd thoght.
He seyde, “Syr, so mote y the,
To-morne þou schalt my lady see;
Therfore, dysmay the noght:
When ye here the masbelle,
Y schall hur brynge to the chapelle;
Thedur sche schall be broght.
Be the oryall syde stonde þou stylle;
Then schalt þou see hur at þy wylle,
That ys so worthyly wroght.”
The Erle sayde, “Y holde the trewe,
And that schall þe neuyr rewe,
As farre forthe as y may:”
Yn hys herte he waxe gladde:
“Fylle the wyne,” wyghtly he badde,
“Thys goyth to my pay!”
There he restyd that nyght;
On the morne he can hym dyght
Yn armytes array;
When they ronge to the masse,
To the chapell conne they passe,
To see that lady gay.
And that schall þe neuyr rewe,
As farre forthe as y may:”
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“Fylle the wyne,” wyghtly he badde,
“Thys goyth to my pay!”
There he restyd that nyght;
On the morne he can hym dyght
Yn armytes array;
When they ronge to the masse,
To the chapell conne they passe,
To see that lady gay.
They had stonden but a whyle,
The mowntaunse of halfe a myle,
Then came that lady free;
Two erlys hur ladde;
Wondur rychely sche was cladde,
In golde and ryche perré.
Whan the Erle sawe hur in syght,
Hym thoght sche was as bryght
Os blossome on the tree;
Of all the syghtys that euer he sye,
Raysyd neuyr none hys herte so hye,
Sche was so bryght of blee!
The mowntaunse of halfe a myle,
Then came that lady free;
Two erlys hur ladde;
Wondur rychely sche was cladde,
In golde and ryche perré.
Whan the Erle sawe hur in syght,
Hym thoght sche was as bryght
Os blossome on the tree;
Of all the syghtys that euer he sye,
Raysyd neuyr none hys herte so hye,
Sche was so bryght of blee!
Sche stode stylle in that place
And schewed opynly hur face
For loue of that knyght.
He behelde ynly hur face;
He sware there be Goddys grace,
He sawe neuyr none so bryght.
Hur eyen were gray as any glas;
Mowthe and nose schapen was
At all maner ryght;
Fro the forhedde to the too,
Bettur schapen myght non goo,
Nor none semelyer yn syght.
And schewed opynly hur face
For loue of that knyght.
He behelde ynly hur face;
He sware there be Goddys grace,
He sawe neuyr none so bryght.
Hur eyen were gray as any glas;
Mowthe and nose schapen was
At all maner ryght;
Fro the forhedde to the too,
Bettur schapen myght non goo,
Nor none semelyer yn syght.
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Twyes sche turnyd hur abowte
Betwene the erlys þat were stowte,
For the Erle schulde hur see.
When sche spake wyth mylde steuyn,
Sche semyd an aungell of heuyn,
So feyre sche was of blee!
Hur syde longe, hur myddyll small;
Schouldurs, armes therwythall,
Fayrer myght non bee;
Hur hondys whyte as whallys bonne,
Wyth fyngurs longe and ryngys vpon;
Hur nayles bryght of blee.
Betwene the erlys þat were stowte,
For the Erle schulde hur see.
When sche spake wyth mylde steuyn,
Sche semyd an aungell of heuyn,
So feyre sche was of blee!
Hur syde longe, hur myddyll small;
Schouldurs, armes therwythall,
Fayrer myght non bee;
Hur hondys whyte as whallys bonne,
Wyth fyngurs longe and ryngys vpon;
Hur nayles bryght of blee.
When he had beholden hur welle,
The lady wente to hur chapell,
Masse for to here;
The Erle stode on þat odur syde;
Hys eyen fro hur myght he not hyde,
So louely sche was of chere!
He seyde, “Lorde God, full of myght,
Leue y were so worthy a knyght,
That y myght be hur fere,
And that sche no husbonde hadde,
All the golde that euyr God made
To me were not so dere!”
The lady wente to hur chapell,
Masse for to here;
The Erle stode on þat odur syde;
Hys eyen fro hur myght he not hyde,
So louely sche was of chere!
He seyde, “Lorde God, full of myght,
Leue y were so worthy a knyght,
That y myght be hur fere,
And that sche no husbonde hadde,
All the golde that euyr God made
To me were not so dere!”
When the masse come to ende,
The lady, that was feyre and hende,
To the chaumbur can sche fare;
The Erle syghed and was full woo
Owt of hys syght when sche schulde goo;
Hys mornyng was the mare.
The Erle seyde, “So God me saue,
Of hur almes y wolde craue,
Yf hur wylle ware;
Myght y oght gete of that free,
Eche a day hur to see
Hyt wolde couyr me of my care.”
The lady, that was feyre and hende,
To the chaumbur can sche fare;
The Erle syghed and was full woo
Owt of hys syght when sche schulde goo;
Hys mornyng was the mare.
The Erle seyde, “So God me saue,
Of hur almes y wolde craue,
Yf hur wylle ware;
395
Eche a day hur to see
Hyt wolde couyr me of my care.”
The Erle knelyd down anon ryght
And askyd gode, for God allmyght,
That dyed on the tree.
The Emperes callyd a knyght:
“xl floranse that ben bryght,
Anone brynge thou mee.”
To that armyte sche hyt payde;
Of hur fyngyr a rynge she layde
Amonge that golde so free;
He thankyd hur ofte, as y yow say.
To the chaumbyr wente þat lady gay,
There hur was leueste to bee.
And askyd gode, for God allmyght,
That dyed on the tree.
The Emperes callyd a knyght:
“xl floranse that ben bryght,
Anone brynge thou mee.”
To that armyte sche hyt payde;
Of hur fyngyr a rynge she layde
Amonge that golde so free;
He thankyd hur ofte, as y yow say.
To the chaumbyr wente þat lady gay,
There hur was leueste to bee.
The Erle wente home to hys ynnys,
And grete yoye he begynnys
When he founde the rynge;
Yn hys herte he waxe blythe
And hyt kyssyd fele sythe,
And seyde, “My dere derlynge,
On thy fyngyr thys was!
Wele ys me, y haue thy grace
Of the to haue thys rynge!
Yf euyr y gete grace of þe Quene
That any loue betwene vs bene,
Thys may be oure tokenyng.”
And grete yoye he begynnys
When he founde the rynge;
Yn hys herte he waxe blythe
And hyt kyssyd fele sythe,
And seyde, “My dere derlynge,
On thy fyngyr thys was!
Wele ys me, y haue thy grace
Of the to haue thys rynge!
Yf euyr y gete grace of þe Quene
That any loue betwene vs bene,
Thys may be oure tokenyng.”
The Erle, also soone os hyt was day,
Toke hys leue and wente hys way
Home to hys cuntré;
Syr Trylabas he thanked faste:
“Of thys dede þou done me haste,
Well qwyt schall hyt bee.”
They kyssyd togedur as gode frende;
Syr Trylabas home can wende,
There euell mote he thee!
A traytory he thoght to doo
Yf he myght come thertoo;
So schrewde in herte was hee!
Toke hys leue and wente hys way
Home to hys cuntré;
Syr Trylabas he thanked faste:
“Of thys dede þou done me haste,
Well qwyt schall hyt bee.”
396
Syr Trylabas home can wende,
There euell mote he thee!
A traytory he thoght to doo
Yf he myght come thertoo;
So schrewde in herte was hee!
Anon he callyd two knyghtys,
Hardy men at all syghtys;
Bothe were of hys kynne.
“Syrs,” he seyde, “wythowt fayle,
Yf ye wyl do be my counsayle,
Grete worschyp schulde ye wynne;
Knowe ye the Erle of Tollous?
Moche harme he hath done vs;
Hys boste y rede we blynne;
Yf ye wyll do aftur my redde,
Thys day he schall be dedde,
So God saue me fro synne!”
Hardy men at all syghtys;
Bothe were of hys kynne.
“Syrs,” he seyde, “wythowt fayle,
Yf ye wyl do be my counsayle,
Grete worschyp schulde ye wynne;
Knowe ye the Erle of Tollous?
Moche harme he hath done vs;
Hys boste y rede we blynne;
Yf ye wyll do aftur my redde,
Thys day he schall be dedde,
So God saue me fro synne!”
That oon knyght Kaunters, þat odur Kaym;
Falser men myght no man rayme,
Certys, then were thoo;
Syr Trylabas was the thrydde;
Hyt was no mystur þem to bydde
Aftur the Erle to goo.
At a brygge they hym mett;
Wyth harde strokes they hym besett,
As men that were hys foo;
The Erle was a man of mayn:
Faste he faght them agayne,
And soone he slew two.
Falser men myght no man rayme,
Certys, then were thoo;
Syr Trylabas was the thrydde;
Hyt was no mystur þem to bydde
Aftur the Erle to goo.
At a brygge they hym mett;
Wyth harde strokes they hym besett,
As men that were hys foo;
The Erle was a man of mayn:
Faste he faght them agayne,
And soone he slew two.
The thrydde fledde and blewe owt faste;
The Erle ouyrtoke hym at þe laste:
Hys hedd he clofe in three.
The cuntrey gedyrd abowte hym faste,
And aftur hym ȝorne they chaste:
An c there men myght see.
The Erle of them was agaste:
At the laste fro them he paste;
Fayne he was to flee;
Fro them he wente into a waste;
To reste hym there he toke hys caste:
A wery man was hee.
The Erle ouyrtoke hym at þe laste:
Hys hedd he clofe in three.
The cuntrey gedyrd abowte hym faste,
And aftur hym ȝorne they chaste:
An c there men myght see.
397
At the laste fro them he paste;
Fayne he was to flee;
Fro them he wente into a waste;
To reste hym there he toke hys caste:
A wery man was hee.
All the nyght in that foreste
The gentyll Erle toke hys reste:
He had no nodur woon.
When hyt dawed, he rose vp soone
And thankyd God, that syttyþ in trone,
That he had scapyd hys foon;
That day he trauaylyd many a myle,
And ofte he was in grete parylle,
Be the way os he can gone,
Tyll he come to a fayre castell,
There hym was leuyst to dwelle,
Was made of lyme and stone.
The gentyll Erle toke hys reste:
He had no nodur woon.
When hyt dawed, he rose vp soone
And thankyd God, that syttyþ in trone,
That he had scapyd hys foon;
That day he trauaylyd many a myle,
And ofte he was in grete parylle,
Be the way os he can gone,
Tyll he come to a fayre castell,
There hym was leuyst to dwelle,
Was made of lyme and stone.
Of hys comyng hys men were gladde.
“Be ye mery, my men,” he badde,
“For nothyng ye spare;
The Emperour, wythowte lees,
Y trowe, wyll let vs be in pees
And warre on vs no mare.”
Thus dwellyd the Erle in þat place
Wyth game, myrthe, and grete solase,
Ryght os hym leuyst ware.
Let we now the Erle alloon,
And speke we of Dame Beulyboon,
How sche was caste in care.
“Be ye mery, my men,” he badde,
“For nothyng ye spare;
The Emperour, wythowte lees,
Y trowe, wyll let vs be in pees
And warre on vs no mare.”
Thus dwellyd the Erle in þat place
Wyth game, myrthe, and grete solase,
Ryght os hym leuyst ware.
Let we now the Erle alloon,
And speke we of Dame Beulyboon,
How sche was caste in care.
The Emperoure louyd hys wyfe
Also so moche os hys own lyfe,
And more, yf he myght;
He chose two knyghtys þat were hym dere,
Whedur that he were ferre or nere,
To kepe hur day and nyght.
That oon hys loue on hur caste:
So dud the todur at the laste;
Sche was feyre and bryght!
Nothyr of othyr wyste ryght noght,
So derne loue on them wroght;
To dethe they were nere dyght.
Also so moche os hys own lyfe,
And more, yf he myght;
He chose two knyghtys þat were hym dere,
Whedur that he were ferre or nere,
To kepe hur day and nyght.
398
So dud the todur at the laste;
Sche was feyre and bryght!
Nothyr of othyr wyste ryght noght,
So derne loue on them wroght;
To dethe they were nere dyght.
So hyt befelle vpon a day,
That oon can to þat othyr say,
“Syr, also muste y thee,
Methynkyth þou fadyste all away,
Os man þat ys clongyn in clay,
So pale waxeth thy blee!”
Then seyde that oþer, “Y make avowe,
Ryght so, methynketh, fareste þou,
Whysoeuyr hyt bee;
Telle me thy cawse, why hyt ys,
And y schall telle þe myn, ywys:
My trouthe y plyght to thee.”
That oon can to þat othyr say,
“Syr, also muste y thee,
Methynkyth þou fadyste all away,
Os man þat ys clongyn in clay,
So pale waxeth thy blee!”
Then seyde that oþer, “Y make avowe,
Ryght so, methynketh, fareste þou,
Whysoeuyr hyt bee;
Telle me thy cawse, why hyt ys,
And y schall telle þe myn, ywys:
My trouthe y plyght to thee.”
“Y graunte,” he seyde, “wythowt fayle,
But loke hyt be trewe counsayle!”
Therto hys trowthe he plyght.
He seyde, “My lady the Emperes,
For loue of hur y am in grete dystresse;
To dethe hyt wyll me dyght.”
Then seyde that othyr, “Certenly,
Wythowte drede, so fare y
For that lady bryght;
Syn owre loue ys on hur sett,
How myght owre bale beste be bett?
Canste thou rede on ryght?”
But loke hyt be trewe counsayle!”
Therto hys trowthe he plyght.
He seyde, “My lady the Emperes,
For loue of hur y am in grete dystresse;
To dethe hyt wyll me dyght.”
Then seyde that othyr, “Certenly,
Wythowte drede, so fare y
For that lady bryght;
Syn owre loue ys on hur sett,
How myght owre bale beste be bett?
Canste thou rede on ryght?”
Then seyde that oþyr, “Be Seynt Iohn,
Bettur counsayle can y noon,
Methynkyth, then ys thys:
Y rede that oon of vs twoo
Preuely to hyr goo
And pray hur of hur blys;
Y myselfe wyll go hyr tylle;
Yn case y may gete hur wylle,
Of myrthe schalt thou not mys;
Thou schalt take vs wyth the dede:
Leste thou vs wrye, sche wyll drede,
And graunte the þy wylle, ywys.”
Bettur counsayle can y noon,
Methynkyth, then ys thys:
399
Preuely to hyr goo
And pray hur of hur blys;
Y myselfe wyll go hyr tylle;
Yn case y may gete hur wylle,
Of myrthe schalt thou not mys;
Thou schalt take vs wyth the dede:
Leste thou vs wrye, sche wyll drede,
And graunte the þy wylle, ywys.”
Thus they were at oon assent;
Thys false thefe forthe wente
To wytt the ladyes wylle.
Yn chaumbyr he founde hyr so free;
He sett hym downe on hys knee,
Hys purpose to fulfylle.
Than spake that lady free,
“Syr, y see now well be the,
Thou haste not all thy wylle;
On thy sekeness now y see;
Telle me now thy preuyté,
Why thou mornyst so stylle.”
Thys false thefe forthe wente
To wytt the ladyes wylle.
Yn chaumbyr he founde hyr so free;
He sett hym downe on hys knee,
Hys purpose to fulfylle.
Than spake that lady free,
“Syr, y see now well be the,
Thou haste not all thy wylle;
On thy sekeness now y see;
Telle me now thy preuyté,
Why thou mornyst so stylle.”
“Lady,” he seyde, “that durste y noght
For all the gode þat euyr was wroght,
Be grete God invysybylle,
But on a booke yf ye wyll swere
That ye schull not me dyskere,
Then were hyt possybyll.”
Then seyde þe lady, “How may þat bee?
That thou darste not tryste to mee,
Hyt ys full orybylle.
Here my trowthe to the y plyght:
Y schall heyle the day and nyght,
Also trewe as boke or belle.”
For all the gode þat euyr was wroght,
Be grete God invysybylle,
But on a booke yf ye wyll swere
That ye schull not me dyskere,
Then were hyt possybyll.”
Then seyde þe lady, “How may þat bee?
That thou darste not tryste to mee,
Hyt ys full orybylle.
Here my trowthe to the y plyght:
Y schall heyle the day and nyght,
Also trewe as boke or belle.”
400
“Lady, in yow ys all my tryste;
Inwardely y wolde ye wyste
What payne y suffur you fore;
Y drowpe, y dare nyght and day;
My wele, my wytt ys all away,
But ye leue on my lore;
Y haue yow louyd many a day,
But to yow durste y neuyr say—
My mornyng ys the more!
But ye do aftur my rede,
Certenly, y am but dede:
Of my lyfe ys no store.”
Inwardely y wolde ye wyste
What payne y suffur you fore;
Y drowpe, y dare nyght and day;
My wele, my wytt ys all away,
But ye leue on my lore;
Y haue yow louyd many a day,
But to yow durste y neuyr say—
My mornyng ys the more!
But ye do aftur my rede,
Certenly, y am but dede:
Of my lyfe ys no store.”
Than answeryd þat louely lyfe:
“Syr, wele thou wottyst y am a wyfe:
My lorde ys Emperoure;
He chase the for a trewe knyght,
To kepe me bothe day and nyght
Vndur thy socowre;
To do that dede yf y assente,
Y were worthy to be brente
And broght in grete doloure;
Thou art a traytour in thy sawe,
Worthy to be hanged and to-drawe
Be Mary, that swete floure!”
“Syr, wele thou wottyst y am a wyfe:
My lorde ys Emperoure;
He chase the for a trewe knyght,
To kepe me bothe day and nyght
Vndur thy socowre;
To do that dede yf y assente,
Y were worthy to be brente
And broght in grete doloure;
Thou art a traytour in thy sawe,
Worthy to be hanged and to-drawe
Be Mary, that swete floure!”
“A, madam!” seyde the knyght,
“For the loue of God almyght,
Hereon take no hede!
Yn me ye may full wele tryste ay;
Y dud nothyng but yow to affray,
Also God me spede!
Thynke, madam, youre trowþe ys plyȝt
To holde counsayle bothe day and nyȝt
Fully, wythowte drede;
Y aske mercy for Goddys ore!
Hereof yf y carpe more,
Let drawe me wyth a stede!”
“For the loue of God almyght,
Hereon take no hede!
Yn me ye may full wele tryste ay;
Y dud nothyng but yow to affray,
Also God me spede!
Thynke, madam, youre trowþe ys plyȝt
To holde counsayle bothe day and nyȝt
Fully, wythowte drede;
Y aske mercy for Goddys ore!
Hereof yf y carpe more,
Let drawe me wyth a stede!”
401
The lady seyde, “Y the forgeue;
Also longe os y leue,
Counsayle schall hyt bee;
Loke thou be a trewe man
In all thyng that thou can,
To my lorde so free.”
“Ȝys, lady, ellys dyd y wronge,
For y haue seruyd hym longe,
And wele he hath qwytt mee.”
Hereof spake he no mare,
But to hys felowe can he fare,
There euyll must they the!
Also longe os y leue,
Counsayle schall hyt bee;
Loke thou be a trewe man
In all thyng that thou can,
To my lorde so free.”
“Ȝys, lady, ellys dyd y wronge,
For y haue seruyd hym longe,
And wele he hath qwytt mee.”
Hereof spake he no mare,
But to hys felowe can he fare,
There euyll must they the!
Thus to hys felowe ys he gon,
And he hym frayned anon,
“Syr, how haste thou spedde?”
“Ryght noght,” seyde that othyr:
“Syth y was borne, lefe brothyr,
Was y neuyr so adredde;
Certys, hyt ys a boteles bale
To hur to touche soche a tale
At borde or at bedde.”
Then sayde þat odur, “Thy wytt ys thynne:
Y myselfe schall hur wynne:
Y lay my hedde to wedde!”
And he hym frayned anon,
“Syr, how haste thou spedde?”
“Ryght noght,” seyde that othyr:
“Syth y was borne, lefe brothyr,
Was y neuyr so adredde;
Certys, hyt ys a boteles bale
To hur to touche soche a tale
At borde or at bedde.”
Then sayde þat odur, “Thy wytt ys thynne:
Y myselfe schall hur wynne:
Y lay my hedde to wedde!”
Thus hyt passyd ouyr, os y yow say,
Tyl aftur on the thrydde day
Thys knyght hym bethoght:
“Certys, spede os y may,
My ladyes wylle, þat ys so gay,
Hyt schall be thorowly soght.”
When he sawe hur in beste mode,
Sore syghyng to hur he ȝode,
Of lyfe os he ne roght.
“Lady,” he seyde, “wythowte fayle,
But ye helpe me wyth yowre counsayle,
Yn bale am y broght.”
Tyl aftur on the thrydde day
Thys knyght hym bethoght:
“Certys, spede os y may,
My ladyes wylle, þat ys so gay,
Hyt schall be thorowly soght.”
When he sawe hur in beste mode,
Sore syghyng to hur he ȝode,
Of lyfe os he ne roght.
“Lady,” he seyde, “wythowte fayle,
But ye helpe me wyth yowre counsayle,
Yn bale am y broght.”
402
Sche answeryd full curtesly,
“My counsayle schall be redy.
Telle me how hyt ys;
When y wott worde and ende,
Yf my counsayle may hyt mende,
Hyt schall, so haue y blysse!”
“Lady,” he seyde, “y vndurstonde
Ye muste holde vp yowre honde
To holde counsayle, ywys.”
“Ȝys,” seyde the lady free,
“Thereto my trouthe here to the,
And ellys y dudde amys.”
“My counsayle schall be redy.
Telle me how hyt ys;
When y wott worde and ende,
Yf my counsayle may hyt mende,
Hyt schall, so haue y blysse!”
“Lady,” he seyde, “y vndurstonde
Ye muste holde vp yowre honde
To holde counsayle, ywys.”
“Ȝys,” seyde the lady free,
“Thereto my trouthe here to the,
And ellys y dudde amys.”
“Madam,” he seyde, “now y am in tryste;
All my lyfe thogh ye wyste,
Ye wolde me not dyskeuere;
For yow y am in so grete thoght,
Yn moche bale y am broght,
Wythowte othe y swere;
And ye may full wele see,
How pale y am of blee:
Y dye nere for dere;
Dere lady, graunt me youre loue,
For þe loue of God, þat sytteþ aboue,
That stongen was wyth a spere.”
All my lyfe thogh ye wyste,
Ye wolde me not dyskeuere;
For yow y am in so grete thoght,
Yn moche bale y am broght,
Wythowte othe y swere;
And ye may full wele see,
How pale y am of blee:
Y dye nere for dere;
Dere lady, graunt me youre loue,
For þe loue of God, þat sytteþ aboue,
That stongen was wyth a spere.”
“Syr,” sche seyde, “ys þat youre wylle?
Yf hyt were myne, þen dyd y ylle;
What woman holdyst thou me?
Yn thy kepeyng y haue ben:
What haste þou herde be me or sene
That touchyth to any velanye,
That thou in herte art so bolde
Os y were a hore or a scolde?
Nay, that schall neuyr bee!
Had y not hyght to holde counsayle,
Thou schouldest be honged, wythowt fayle,
Vpon a galowe-tree.”
Yf hyt were myne, þen dyd y ylle;
What woman holdyst thou me?
Yn thy kepeyng y haue ben:
What haste þou herde be me or sene
That touchyth to any velanye,
That thou in herte art so bolde
Os y were a hore or a scolde?
Nay, that schall neuyr bee!
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Thou schouldest be honged, wythowt fayle,
Vpon a galowe-tree.”
The knyght was neuyr so sore aferde
Sythe he was borne into myddyllerde,
Certys, os he was thoo.
“Mercy,” he seyde, “gode madam!
Wele y wott y am to blame;
Therfore myn herte ys woo!
Lady, let me not be spylte;
Y aske mercy of my gylte!
On lyue ye let me goo.”
The lady seyde, “Y graunte wele;
Hyt schall be counseyle, euery dele,
But do no more soo.”
Sythe he was borne into myddyllerde,
Certys, os he was thoo.
“Mercy,” he seyde, “gode madam!
Wele y wott y am to blame;
Therfore myn herte ys woo!
Lady, let me not be spylte;
Y aske mercy of my gylte!
On lyue ye let me goo.”
The lady seyde, “Y graunte wele;
Hyt schall be counseyle, euery dele,
But do no more soo.”
Now the knyght forthe yede
And seyde, “Felowe, y may not spede.
What ys thy beste redde?
Yf sche telle my lorde of thys,
We be but dedde, so haue y blys:
Wyth hym be we not fedde.
Womans tonge ys euell to tryste;
Certys, and my lorde hyt wyste,
Etyn were all owre bredde.
Felow, so mote y ryde or goo,
Or sche wayte vs wyth þat woo,
Hurselfe schall be dedde!”
And seyde, “Felowe, y may not spede.
What ys thy beste redde?
Yf sche telle my lorde of thys,
We be but dedde, so haue y blys:
Wyth hym be we not fedde.
Womans tonge ys euell to tryste;
Certys, and my lorde hyt wyste,
Etyn were all owre bredde.
Felow, so mote y ryde or goo,
Or sche wayte vs wyth þat woo,
Hurselfe schall be dedde!”
“How myght þat be?” þat othur sayde;
“Yn herte y wolde be wele payde,
Myght we do that dede.”
“Ȝys, syr,” he seyde, “soe haue y roo,
Y schall brynge hur wele thertoo;
Therof haue thou no drede.
Or hyt passe dayes three,
In mekyll sorowe schall sche bee:
Thus y schall qwyte hur hur mede.”
Now are þey bothe at oon assente
In sorow to brynge þat lady gente:
The deuell mote them spede!
“Yn herte y wolde be wele payde,
Myght we do that dede.”
“Ȝys, syr,” he seyde, “soe haue y roo,
Y schall brynge hur wele thertoo;
Therof haue thou no drede.
Or hyt passe dayes three,
In mekyll sorowe schall sche bee:
Thus y schall qwyte hur hur mede.”
404
In sorow to brynge þat lady gente:
The deuell mote them spede!
Sone hyt drowe toward nyght;
To soper they can them dyght,
The Emperes and they all;
The two knyghtys grete yapys made,
For to make the lady glade,
That was bothe gentyll and small;
When the sopertyme was done,
To the chaumbyr they went soone,
Knyghtys cladde in palle
(They daunsed and revelyd, os þey noȝt dredde),
To brynge the lady to hur bedde:
There foule muste them falle!
To soper they can them dyght,
The Emperes and they all;
The two knyghtys grete yapys made,
For to make the lady glade,
That was bothe gentyll and small;
When the sopertyme was done,
To the chaumbyr they went soone,
Knyghtys cladde in palle
(They daunsed and revelyd, os þey noȝt dredde),
To brynge the lady to hur bedde:
There foule muste them falle!
That oon these callyd a knyght
That was carver to þat lady bryght;
An erleys sone was hee;
He was a feyre chylde and a bolde;
Twenty wyntur he was oolde:
In londe was none so free.
“Syr, wylt thou do os we the say?
And we schall ordeygne vs a play,
That my lady may see.
Thou schalt make hur to lagh soo,
Thogh sche were gretly thy foo,
Thy frende schulde sche bee.”
That was carver to þat lady bryght;
An erleys sone was hee;
He was a feyre chylde and a bolde;
Twenty wyntur he was oolde:
In londe was none so free.
“Syr, wylt thou do os we the say?
And we schall ordeygne vs a play,
That my lady may see.
Thou schalt make hur to lagh soo,
Thogh sche were gretly thy foo,
Thy frende schulde sche bee.”
The chylde answeryd anon ryght:
“Be the ordur y bere of knyght,
Therof wolde y be fayne,
And hyt wolde my lady plese,
Thogh hyt wolde me dysese,
To renne yn wynde and rayne.”
“Syr, make the nakyd saue þy breke;
And behynde the ȝondur curtayn þou crepe,
And do os y schall sayne;
Then schalt þou see a yoly play!”
“Y graunte,” þys yonge knyȝt can say,
“Be God and Seynte Iermayne.”
“Be the ordur y bere of knyght,
Therof wolde y be fayne,
And hyt wolde my lady plese,
Thogh hyt wolde me dysese,
To renne yn wynde and rayne.”
405
And behynde the ȝondur curtayn þou crepe,
And do os y schall sayne;
Then schalt þou see a yoly play!”
“Y graunte,” þys yonge knyȝt can say,
“Be God and Seynte Iermayne.”
Thys chylde thoght on no ylle:
Of he caste hys clothys stylle;
And behynde þe curtayn he went.
They seyde to hym, “What so befalle,
Come not owt tyll we þe calle.”
And he seyde, “Syrs, y assente.”
They reuelyd forthe a grete whyle;
No man wyste of ther gyle
Saue they two, veramente.
They voyded þe chaumber sone anon;
The chylde þey lafte syttyng alone,
And that lady gente.
Of he caste hys clothys stylle;
And behynde þe curtayn he went.
They seyde to hym, “What so befalle,
Come not owt tyll we þe calle.”
And he seyde, “Syrs, y assente.”
They reuelyd forthe a grete whyle;
No man wyste of ther gyle
Saue they two, veramente.
They voyded þe chaumber sone anon;
The chylde þey lafte syttyng alone,
And that lady gente.
Thys lady lay in bedde on slepe;
Of treson toke sche no kepe,
For þerof wyste sche noght.
Thys chylde had wonder euyr among
Why þese knyghtys were so longe:
He was in many a thoght.
“Lorde, mercy! how may thys bee?
Y trowe þey haue forgeten me,
That me hedur broght;
Yf y them calle, sche wyll be adredd,
My lady lyeth here in hur bedde,
Be Hym þat all hath wroght!”
Of treson toke sche no kepe,
For þerof wyste sche noght.
Thys chylde had wonder euyr among
Why þese knyghtys were so longe:
He was in many a thoght.
“Lorde, mercy! how may thys bee?
Y trowe þey haue forgeten me,
That me hedur broght;
Yf y them calle, sche wyll be adredd,
My lady lyeth here in hur bedde,
Be Hym þat all hath wroght!”
Thus he sate stylle as any stone:
He durste not store nor make no mone
To make the lady afryght.
Thes false men (ay worthe þem woo!),
To ther chaumbur can they goo
And armyd them full ryght;
Lordys owte of bedde can they calle
And badde arme þem, grete and smalle:
“Anone that ye were dyght,
And helpe to take a false traytoure
That wyth my lady in hur bowre
Hath playde hym all þys nyght.”
He durste not store nor make no mone
To make the lady afryght.
406
To ther chaumbur can they goo
And armyd them full ryght;
Lordys owte of bedde can they calle
And badde arme þem, grete and smalle:
“Anone that ye were dyght,
And helpe to take a false traytoure
That wyth my lady in hur bowre
Hath playde hym all þys nyght.”
Sone þey were armyd euerychone;
And wyth þese traytours can þey gone,
The lordys that there wore.
To þe Emperes chaumber þey cam ryȝt
Wyth torchys and wyth swerdys bryght
Brennyng them before.
Behynde the curtayne they wente;
The yonge knyght, verrament,
Nakyd founde they thore.
That oon these wyth a swerde of were
Thorow þe body he can hym bere,
That worde spake he no more.
And wyth þese traytours can þey gone,
The lordys that there wore.
To þe Emperes chaumber þey cam ryȝt
Wyth torchys and wyth swerdys bryght
Brennyng them before.
Behynde the curtayne they wente;
The yonge knyght, verrament,
Nakyd founde they thore.
That oon these wyth a swerde of were
Thorow þe body he can hym bere,
That worde spake he no more.
The lady woke and was afryght,
Whan sche sawe the grete lyght
Before hur beddys syde.
Sche seyde, “Benedycyté!
Syrs, what men be yee?”
And wonder lowde sche cryedd.
Hur enemyes mysansweryd þore
“We are here, thou false hore:
Thy dedys we haue aspyedd!
Thou haste betrayed my lorde;
Thou schalt haue wonduryng in þys worde:
Thy loos schall sprynge wyde!”
Whan sche sawe the grete lyght
Before hur beddys syde.
Sche seyde, “Benedycyté!
Syrs, what men be yee?”
And wonder lowde sche cryedd.
Hur enemyes mysansweryd þore
“We are here, thou false hore:
Thy dedys we haue aspyedd!
Thou haste betrayed my lorde;
Thou schalt haue wonduryng in þys worde:
Thy loos schall sprynge wyde!”
407
The lady seyde, “Be Seynte Iohn,
Hore was y neuyr none,
Nor neuyr thoght to bee.”
“Thou lyest,” þey seyde, “þy loue ys lorne”—
The corse þey leyde hur beforne—
“Lo, here ys thy lemman free!
Thus we haue for þe hym hytt;
Þy horedam schall be wele quytte:
Fro vs schalt thou not flee!”
They bonde þe lady wondyr faste
And in a depe preson hur caste:
Grete dele hyt was to see!
Hore was y neuyr none,
Nor neuyr thoght to bee.”
“Thou lyest,” þey seyde, “þy loue ys lorne”—
The corse þey leyde hur beforne—
“Lo, here ys thy lemman free!
Thus we haue for þe hym hytt;
Þy horedam schall be wele quytte:
Fro vs schalt thou not flee!”
They bonde þe lady wondyr faste
And in a depe preson hur caste:
Grete dele hyt was to see!
Leue we now thys lady in care,
And to hur lorde wyll we fare,
That ferre was hur froo.
On a nyght, wythowt lette,
In hys slepe a sweuyn he mett,
The story telleth vs soo.
Hym þoght þer come ii wylde berys
And hys wyfe all toterys
And rofe hur body in twoo;
Hymselfe was a wytty man,
And be þat dreme he hopyd þan
Hys lady was in woo.
And to hur lorde wyll we fare,
That ferre was hur froo.
On a nyght, wythowt lette,
In hys slepe a sweuyn he mett,
The story telleth vs soo.
Hym þoght þer come ii wylde berys
And hys wyfe all toterys
And rofe hur body in twoo;
Hymselfe was a wytty man,
And be þat dreme he hopyd þan
Hys lady was in woo.
Ȝerly, when þe day was clere,
He bad hys men all in fere
To buske and make þem yare.
Somer horsys he let go before
And charyettes stuffud wyth stoore
Wele xii myle and mare.
He hopud wele in hys herte
That hys wyfe was not in querte;
Hys herte therfore was in care;
He styntyd not tyll he was dyght,
Wyth erlys, barons, and many a knyght;
Homeward can they fare.
He bad hys men all in fere
To buske and make þem yare.
Somer horsys he let go before
And charyettes stuffud wyth stoore
Wele xii myle and mare.
He hopud wele in hys herte
That hys wyfe was not in querte;
Hys herte therfore was in care;
He styntyd not tyll he was dyght,
408
Homeward can they fare.
Nyght ne day neuyr they blanne,
Tyll to that cyté they came
There the lady was ynne.
Wythowt þe cyté lordys þem kepyd;
For wo in herte many oon wepyd:
There teerys myght þey not blynne.
They supposyd wele yf he hyt wyste
That hys wyfe had soche a bryste,
Hys yoye wolde be full thynne;
They ladden stedys to the stabyll,
And the lorde into the halle,
To worschyp hym wyth wynne.
Tyll to that cyté they came
There the lady was ynne.
Wythowt þe cyté lordys þem kepyd;
For wo in herte many oon wepyd:
There teerys myght þey not blynne.
They supposyd wele yf he hyt wyste
That hys wyfe had soche a bryste,
Hys yoye wolde be full thynne;
They ladden stedys to the stabyll,
And the lorde into the halle,
To worschyp hym wyth wynne.
Anon to the chaumbur wendyþ he:
He longyd hys feyre lady to see,
That was so swete a wyght.
He callyd them þat schoulde hur kepe:
“Where ys my wyfe? Ys sche on slepe?
How fareth that byrde bryght?”
The ii traytours answeryd anone,
“Yf ye wyste how sche had done,
To dethe sche schulde be dyght.”
He longyd hys feyre lady to see,
That was so swete a wyght.
He callyd them þat schoulde hur kepe:
“Where ys my wyfe? Ys sche on slepe?
How fareth that byrde bryght?”
The ii traytours answeryd anone,
“Yf ye wyste how sche had done,
To dethe sche schulde be dyght.”
“A, deuyll!” he seyde, “how soo,
To dethe þat sche ys worthy to go?
Telle me, in what manere.”
“Syr,” they seyd, “be Goddys ore,
The yonge knyght Syr Antore,
That was hur keruere,
Be that lady he hath layne,
And þerfore we haue hym slayne;
We founde them in fere;
Sche ys in preson, verrament;
The lawe wyll þat sche be brente,
Be God, that boght vs dere.”
To dethe þat sche ys worthy to go?
Telle me, in what manere.”
“Syr,” they seyd, “be Goddys ore,
The yonge knyght Syr Antore,
That was hur keruere,
Be that lady he hath layne,
And þerfore we haue hym slayne;
We founde them in fere;
Sche ys in preson, verrament;
409
Be God, that boght vs dere.”
“Allas!” seyde the Emperoure,
“Hath sche done me thys dyshonoure?
And y louyd hur so wele!
Y wende for all þys worldys gode
That sche wolde not haue turned hur mode:
My yoye begynnyth to kele.”
He hente a knyfe wyth all hys mayn;
Had not a knyȝt ben, he had hym slayn,
And þat traytour haue broght owt of heele.
For bale hys armes abrode he bredde
And fell in swowne vpon hys bedde;
There myght men see grete dele.
“Hath sche done me thys dyshonoure?
And y louyd hur so wele!
Y wende for all þys worldys gode
That sche wolde not haue turned hur mode:
My yoye begynnyth to kele.”
He hente a knyfe wyth all hys mayn;
Had not a knyȝt ben, he had hym slayn,
And þat traytour haue broght owt of heele.
For bale hys armes abrode he bredde
And fell in swowne vpon hys bedde;
There myght men see grete dele.
On the morne be oon assente,
On hur they sett a perlyament
Be all the comyn rede.
They myȝt not fynde in þer counsayle
Be no lawe, wythowt fayle,
To saue hur fro the dede.
Then bespake an olde knyght,
“Y haue wondur, be Goddys myght,
That Syr Antore thus was bestedde,
In chaumbyr thogh he naked were;
They let hym gyf none answere,
But slowe hym, be my hedde!
On hur they sett a perlyament
Be all the comyn rede.
They myȝt not fynde in þer counsayle
Be no lawe, wythowt fayle,
To saue hur fro the dede.
Then bespake an olde knyght,
“Y haue wondur, be Goddys myght,
That Syr Antore thus was bestedde,
In chaumbyr thogh he naked were;
They let hym gyf none answere,
But slowe hym, be my hedde!
Ther was neuyr man, sekurly,
That be hur founde any velany,
Saue they two, y dar wele say;
Be some hatered hyt may be;
Therfore doyth aftur me
For my loue, y yow pray.
No mo wyll preue hyt but þey twoo;
Therfore we may not saue hur fro woo,
For sothe, os y yow say,
In hyr quarell but we myȝt fynde
A man þat were gode of kynde
That durste fyght agayn þem tway.”
That be hur founde any velany,
Saue they two, y dar wele say;
Be some hatered hyt may be;
Therfore doyth aftur me
For my loue, y yow pray.
410
Therfore we may not saue hur fro woo,
For sothe, os y yow say,
In hyr quarell but we myȝt fynde
A man þat were gode of kynde
That durste fyght agayn þem tway.”
All they assentyd to the sawe:
They thoght he spake reson and lawe.
Then answeryd þe Kyng wyth crowne,
“Fayre falle the for thyn avyse.”
He callyd knyghtys of nobyll pryce
And badde them be redy bowne
For to crye thorow all þe londe,
Bothe be see and be sonde,
Yf they fynde mowne
A man þat ys so moche of myght,
That for þat lady dar take þe fyght,
“He schall haue hys warison.”
They thoght he spake reson and lawe.
Then answeryd þe Kyng wyth crowne,
“Fayre falle the for thyn avyse.”
He callyd knyghtys of nobyll pryce
And badde them be redy bowne
For to crye thorow all þe londe,
Bothe be see and be sonde,
Yf they fynde mowne
A man þat ys so moche of myght,
That for þat lady dar take þe fyght,
“He schall haue hys warison.”
Messangerys, y vndurstonde,
Cryed thorow all the londe
In many a ryche cyté,
Yf any man durste proue hys myȝt
In trewe quarell for to fyght,
Wele avaunsed schulde he bee.
The Erle of Tullous harde þys telle,
What anger the lady befelle;
Thereof he thoght grete pyté.
Yf he wyste that sche had ryght,
He wolde aventure hys lyfe to fyght
For that lady free.
Cryed thorow all the londe
In many a ryche cyté,
Yf any man durste proue hys myȝt
In trewe quarell for to fyght,
Wele avaunsed schulde he bee.
The Erle of Tullous harde þys telle,
What anger the lady befelle;
Thereof he thoght grete pyté.
Yf he wyste that sche had ryght,
He wolde aventure hys lyfe to fyght
For that lady free.
411
For hur he morned nyȝt and day,
And to hymselfe can he say
He wolde aventure hys lyfe:
“Yf y may wytt þat sche be trewe,
They þat haue hur accused schull rewe,
But they stynte of ther stryfe.”
The Erle seyde, “Be Seynte Iohn,
Ynto Almayn wyll y goon,
Where y haue fomen ryfe;
I prey to God full of myght
That y haue trewe quarell to fyȝt,
Owt of wo to wynne þat wyfe.”
And to hymselfe can he say
He wolde aventure hys lyfe:
“Yf y may wytt þat sche be trewe,
They þat haue hur accused schull rewe,
But they stynte of ther stryfe.”
The Erle seyde, “Be Seynte Iohn,
Ynto Almayn wyll y goon,
Where y haue fomen ryfe;
I prey to God full of myght
That y haue trewe quarell to fyȝt,
Owt of wo to wynne þat wyfe.”
He rode on huntyng on a day;
A marchand mett he be þe way,
And asked hym of whens he was.
“Lorde,” he seyde, “of Almayn.”
Anon the Erle can hym frayne
Of that ylke case:
“Wherefore ys yowre Emperes
Put in so grete dystresse?
Telle me, for Goddys grace.
Ys sche gylté, so mote thou the?”
“Nay, be Hym þat dyed on tree,
That schope man aftur hys face.”
A marchand mett he be þe way,
And asked hym of whens he was.
“Lorde,” he seyde, “of Almayn.”
Anon the Erle can hym frayne
Of that ylke case:
“Wherefore ys yowre Emperes
Put in so grete dystresse?
Telle me, for Goddys grace.
Ys sche gylté, so mote thou the?”
“Nay, be Hym þat dyed on tree,
That schope man aftur hys face.”
Then seyde the Erle, wythowte lett,
“When ys the day sett
Brente that sche schulde bee?”
The marchande seyde sekyrlyke,
“Euyn thys day thre wyke,
And therfore wo ys mee.”
The Erle seyde, “Y schall the telle:
Gode horsys y haue to selle,
And stedys two or thre:
Certys, myght y selle þem yare,
Thedur wyth the wolde y fare,
That syght for to see.”
“When ys the day sett
Brente that sche schulde bee?”
The marchande seyde sekyrlyke,
“Euyn thys day thre wyke,
And therfore wo ys mee.”
The Erle seyde, “Y schall the telle:
Gode horsys y haue to selle,
And stedys two or thre:
Certys, myght y selle þem yare,
412
That syght for to see.”
The marchand seyd wordys hende:
“Into the londe yf ye wyll wende,
Hyt wolde be for yowre prowe,
There may ye selle þem at your wylle.”
Anon the Erle seyde hym tylle,
“Syr, herkyn me nowe:
Thys yurney wylt þou wyth me dwelle
Twenty pownde y schall the telle
To mede, y make avowe!”
The marchand grauntyd anon;
The Erle seyde, “Be Seynt Iohn,
Thy wylle y alowe.”
“Into the londe yf ye wyll wende,
Hyt wolde be for yowre prowe,
There may ye selle þem at your wylle.”
Anon the Erle seyde hym tylle,
“Syr, herkyn me nowe:
Thys yurney wylt þou wyth me dwelle
Twenty pownde y schall the telle
To mede, y make avowe!”
The marchand grauntyd anon;
The Erle seyde, “Be Seynt Iohn,
Thy wylle y alowe.”
The Erle tolde hym in þat tyde
Where he schulde hym abyde,
And homeward wente hee.
He busked hym, þat no man wyste,
For mekyll on hym was hys tryste.
He seyde, “Syr, go wyth mee!”
Wyth them they toke stedys seuyn—
Ther were no fayre vndyr heuyn
That any man myght see.
Into Almayn þey can ryde:
As a coresur of mekyll pryde
He semyd for to bee.
Where he schulde hym abyde,
And homeward wente hee.
He busked hym, þat no man wyste,
For mekyll on hym was hys tryste.
He seyde, “Syr, go wyth mee!”
Wyth them they toke stedys seuyn—
Ther were no fayre vndyr heuyn
That any man myght see.
Into Almayn þey can ryde:
As a coresur of mekyll pryde
He semyd for to bee.
The marchand was a trewe gyde;
The Erle and he togedur can ryde,
Tyll they came to that place.
A myle besyde the castell
There the Emperoure can dwelle,
A ryche abbey ther was;
Of the abbot leue they gatt
To soyorne and make þer horsys fatt;
That was a nobyll case!
The abbot was the ladyes eme;
For hur he was in grete wandreme,
And moche mornyng he mase.
The Erle and he togedur can ryde,
Tyll they came to that place.
A myle besyde the castell
There the Emperoure can dwelle,
A ryche abbey ther was;
Of the abbot leue they gatt
To soyorne and make þer horsys fatt;
413
The abbot was the ladyes eme;
For hur he was in grete wandreme,
And moche mornyng he mase.
So hyt befelle vpon a day,
To churche the Erle toke þe way,
A masse for to here.
He was a feyre man and an hye;
When the abbot hym sye,
He seyde, “Syr, come nere:
Syr, when the masse ys done,
Y pray yow, ete wyth me at noone,
Yf yowre wylle were.”
The Erle grauntyd all wyth game;
Afore mete they wysche all same,
And to mete they wente in fere.
To churche the Erle toke þe way,
A masse for to here.
He was a feyre man and an hye;
When the abbot hym sye,
He seyde, “Syr, come nere:
Syr, when the masse ys done,
Y pray yow, ete wyth me at noone,
Yf yowre wylle were.”
The Erle grauntyd all wyth game;
Afore mete they wysche all same,
And to mete they wente in fere.
Aftur mete, as y yow say,
Into an orchard þey toke þe way,
The abbot and the knyght.
The abbot seyde and syghed sare;
“Certys, syr, y leue in care
For a lady bryght;
Sche ys accusyd—my herte ys woo!—
Therfore sche schall to dethe goo,
All agayne the ryght;
But sche haue helpe, verrament,
In fyre sche schall be brente
Thys day seuenyght.”
Into an orchard þey toke þe way,
The abbot and the knyght.
The abbot seyde and syghed sare;
“Certys, syr, y leue in care
For a lady bryght;
Sche ys accusyd—my herte ys woo!—
Therfore sche schall to dethe goo,
All agayne the ryght;
But sche haue helpe, verrament,
In fyre sche schall be brente
Thys day seuenyght.”
The Erle seyde, “So haue y blysse,
Of hyr, meþynkyþ, grete rewþe hyt ys,
Trewe yf that sche bee!”
The abbot seyde, “Be Seynte Poule,
For hur y dar ley my soule
That neuyr gylté was sche;
Soche werkys neuyr sche wroght
Neythyr in dede nor in thoght,
Saue a rynge so free
To þe Erle of Tullous sche gafe hyt wyth wynne,
Yn ese of hym and for no synne:
In schryfte thus tolde sche me.”
Of hyr, meþynkyþ, grete rewþe hyt ys,
Trewe yf that sche bee!”
The abbot seyde, “Be Seynte Poule,
For hur y dar ley my soule
That neuyr gylté was sche;
Soche werkys neuyr sche wroght
414
Saue a rynge so free
To þe Erle of Tullous sche gafe hyt wyth wynne,
Yn ese of hym and for no synne:
In schryfte thus tolde sche me.”
The Erle seyde, “Syth hyt ys soo,
Cryste wreke hur of hur woo,
That boght hur wyth Hys bloode!
Wolde ye sekyr me, wythowt fayle,
For to holde trewe counsayle,
Hyt myght be for yowre gode.”
The abbot seyde be bokes fele
And be hys professyon, þat he wolde hele,
And ellys he were wode.
“Y am he þat sche gaf the rynge
For to be oure tokenynge.
Now heyle hyt, for the rode!
Cryste wreke hur of hur woo,
That boght hur wyth Hys bloode!
Wolde ye sekyr me, wythowt fayle,
For to holde trewe counsayle,
Hyt myght be for yowre gode.”
The abbot seyde be bokes fele
And be hys professyon, þat he wolde hele,
And ellys he were wode.
“Y am he þat sche gaf the rynge
For to be oure tokenynge.
Now heyle hyt, for the rode!
Y am comyn, lefe syr,
To take the batayle for hyr,
There to stonde wyth ryght;
But fyrste myselfe y wole hur schryue,
And yf y fynde hur clene of lyue,
Then wyll my herte be lyght.
Let dyght me in monkys wede
To þat place þat men schulde hyr lede,
To dethe to be dyght;
When y haue schreuyn hyr, wythowt fayle,
For hur y wyll take batayle,
As y am trewe knyght!”
To take the batayle for hyr,
There to stonde wyth ryght;
But fyrste myselfe y wole hur schryue,
And yf y fynde hur clene of lyue,
Then wyll my herte be lyght.
Let dyght me in monkys wede
To þat place þat men schulde hyr lede,
To dethe to be dyght;
When y haue schreuyn hyr, wythowt fayle,
For hur y wyll take batayle,
As y am trewe knyght!”
The abbot was neuyr so gladde;
Nere for yoye he waxe madde;
The Erle can he kysse;
They made meré and slewe care.
All that seuenyght he dwellyd þare
Yn myrthe wythowt mysse.
That day þat þe lady schulde be brent,
The Erle wyth the abbot wente
In monkys wede, ywys;
To the Emperour he knelyd blyue,
That he myght þat lady schryue:
Anon resceyued he ys.
Nere for yoye he waxe madde;
The Erle can he kysse;
They made meré and slewe care.
All that seuenyght he dwellyd þare
Yn myrthe wythowt mysse.
415
The Erle wyth the abbot wente
In monkys wede, ywys;
To the Emperour he knelyd blyue,
That he myght þat lady schryue:
Anon resceyued he ys.
He examyned hur, wyttyrly,
As hyt seythe in the story;
Sche was wythowte gylte.
Sche seyde, “Be Hym þat dyed on tree,
Trespas was neuyr none in me
Wherefore y schulde be spylte;
Saue oonys, wythowte lesynge,
To the Erle of Tollous y gafe a rynge:
Assoyle me yf thou wylte;
But þus my destanye ys comyn to ende,
That in þys fyre y muste be brende;
There Goddys wylle be fulfyllyt.”
As hyt seythe in the story;
Sche was wythowte gylte.
Sche seyde, “Be Hym þat dyed on tree,
Trespas was neuyr none in me
Wherefore y schulde be spylte;
Saue oonys, wythowte lesynge,
To the Erle of Tollous y gafe a rynge:
Assoyle me yf thou wylte;
But þus my destanye ys comyn to ende,
That in þys fyre y muste be brende;
There Goddys wylle be fulfyllyt.”
The Erle assoyled hur wyth hys honde,
And syþen pertely he can vp stonde
And seyde, “Lordyngys, pese!
Ye that haue accused þys lady gente,
Ye be worthy to be brente.”
That oon knyght made a rees:
“Thou carle monke, wyth all þy gynne,
Thowe youre abbot be of hur kynne,
Hur sorowe schalt thou not cees;
Ryght so thou woldyst sayne
Thowe all youre couent had be hyr layne;
So are ye lythyr and lees!”
And syþen pertely he can vp stonde
And seyde, “Lordyngys, pese!
Ye that haue accused þys lady gente,
Ye be worthy to be brente.”
That oon knyght made a rees:
“Thou carle monke, wyth all þy gynne,
Thowe youre abbot be of hur kynne,
Hur sorowe schalt thou not cees;
Ryght so thou woldyst sayne
Thowe all youre couent had be hyr layne;
So are ye lythyr and lees!”
The Erle answeryd, wyth wordys free,
“Syr, that oon y trowe thou bee
Thys lady accused has.
Thowe we be men of relygyon,
Thou schalt do vs but reson
For all the fare thou mas.
Y proue on hur þou sayst not ryght.
Lo, here my gloue wyth þe to fyght!
Y vndyrtake thys case;
Os false men y schall yow kenne;
Yn redde fyre for to brenne;
Therto God gyf me grace!”
“Syr, that oon y trowe thou bee
Thys lady accused has.
Thowe we be men of relygyon,
416
For all the fare thou mas.
Y proue on hur þou sayst not ryght.
Lo, here my gloue wyth þe to fyght!
Y vndyrtake thys case;
Os false men y schall yow kenne;
Yn redde fyre for to brenne;
Therto God gyf me grace!”
All þat stoden in that place
Thankyd God of hys grace,
Wythowte any fayle.
The two knyghtys were full wrothe:
He schulde be dedde, þey swere grete othe;
But hyt myght not avayle.
The Erle wente there besyde
And armyd hym wyth mekyll pryde,
Hys enemyes to assayle.
Manly when they togedur mett,
They hewe thorow helme and basenet
And martyrd many a mayle.
Thankyd God of hys grace,
Wythowte any fayle.
The two knyghtys were full wrothe:
He schulde be dedde, þey swere grete othe;
But hyt myght not avayle.
The Erle wente there besyde
And armyd hym wyth mekyll pryde,
Hys enemyes to assayle.
Manly when they togedur mett,
They hewe thorow helme and basenet
And martyrd many a mayle.
They redyn togedur, wythowt lakk,
That hys oon spere on hym brakk;
That othyr faylyd thoo;
The Erle smote hym wyth hys spere;
Thorow the body he can hym bere:
To grounde can he goo.
That sawe that odyr, and faste can flee;
The Erle ouyrtoke hym vndur a tre
And wroght hym mekyll woo;
There þys traytour can hym ȝylde
Os recreaunt yn the fylde;
He myght not fle hym froo.
That hys oon spere on hym brakk;
That othyr faylyd thoo;
The Erle smote hym wyth hys spere;
Thorow the body he can hym bere:
To grounde can he goo.
That sawe that odyr, and faste can flee;
The Erle ouyrtoke hym vndur a tre
And wroght hym mekyll woo;
There þys traytour can hym ȝylde
Os recreaunt yn the fylde;
He myght not fle hym froo.
417
Before the Emperoure they wente
And there he made hym, verrament,
To telle for the noonys.
He seyde, “We thoght hur to spylle,
For sche wolde not do oure wylle,
That worthy ys in wonnys.”
The Erle answeryd hym then,
“Therfore, traytours, ye schall brenne
Yn thys fyre, bothe at onys!”
The Erle anon them hente,
And in the fyre he þem brente,
Flesche, felle, and boonys.
And there he made hym, verrament,
To telle for the noonys.
He seyde, “We thoght hur to spylle,
For sche wolde not do oure wylle,
That worthy ys in wonnys.”
The Erle answeryd hym then,
“Therfore, traytours, ye schall brenne
Yn thys fyre, bothe at onys!”
The Erle anon them hente,
And in the fyre he þem brente,
Flesche, felle, and boonys.
When þey were brent bothe twoo,
The Erle preuely can goo
To that ryche abbaye.
Wyth yoye and processyon
They fett the lady into the towne,
Wyth myrthe, os y telle may.
The Emperoure was full gladde:
“Fette me the monke!” anon he badde,
“Why wente he so awaye?
A byschoperyke y wyll hym geue,
My helpe, my loue, whyll y leue,
Be God that owyth thys day!”
The Erle preuely can goo
To that ryche abbaye.
Wyth yoye and processyon
They fett the lady into the towne,
Wyth myrthe, os y telle may.
The Emperoure was full gladde:
“Fette me the monke!” anon he badde,
“Why wente he so awaye?
A byschoperyke y wyll hym geue,
My helpe, my loue, whyll y leue,
Be God that owyth thys day!”
The abbot knelyd on hys knee
And seyde, “Lorde, gone ys hee
To hys owne londe;
He dwellyth wyth the pope of Rome;
He wyll be glad of hys come,
Y do yow to vndurstonde.”
“Syr [abbot],” quod the Emperoure,
“To me hyt were a dyshonoure;
Soche wordes y rede thou wonde;
Anone yn haste that y hym see,
Or thou schalt neuyr haue gode of me,
And therto here myn honde!”
And seyde, “Lorde, gone ys hee
To hys owne londe;
He dwellyth wyth the pope of Rome;
He wyll be glad of hys come,
Y do yow to vndurstonde.”
“Syr [abbot],” quod the Emperoure,
“To me hyt were a dyshonoure;
Soche wordes y rede thou wonde;
Anone yn haste that y hym see,
418
And therto here myn honde!”
“Lorde,” he seyde, “sythe hyt ys soo
Aftur hym þat y muste goo,
Ye muste make me sewrté,
Yn case he haue byn youre foo,
Ye schall not do hym no woo;
And then, also mote y thee,
Aftur hym y wyll wynde,
So that ye wyll be hys frende,
Yf youre wylle bee.”
“Ȝys,” seyd the Emperoure full fayne,
“All my kynne þogh he had slayne,
He ys welcome to mee.”
Aftur hym þat y muste goo,
Ye muste make me sewrté,
Yn case he haue byn youre foo,
Ye schall not do hym no woo;
And then, also mote y thee,
Aftur hym y wyll wynde,
So that ye wyll be hys frende,
Yf youre wylle bee.”
“Ȝys,” seyd the Emperoure full fayne,
“All my kynne þogh he had slayne,
He ys welcome to mee.”
Then spake the abbot wordys free:
“Lorde, y tryste now on thee:
Ye wyll do os ye sey;
Hyt ys Syr Barnard of Tollous,
A nobyll knyght and a chyualrous,
That hath done thys iurney.”
“Now certys,” seyde the Emperoure,
“To me hyt ys grete dyshonoure;
Anon, syr, y the pray
Aftur hym þat thou wende:
We schall kysse and be gode frende,
Be God, that owyth thys day!”
“Lorde, y tryste now on thee:
Ye wyll do os ye sey;
Hyt ys Syr Barnard of Tollous,
A nobyll knyght and a chyualrous,
That hath done thys iurney.”
“Now certys,” seyde the Emperoure,
“To me hyt ys grete dyshonoure;
Anon, syr, y the pray
Aftur hym þat thou wende:
We schall kysse and be gode frende,
Be God, that owyth thys day!”
The abbot seyde, “Y assente.”
Aftur the Erle anon he wente,
And seyde, “Syr, go wyth mee:
My lorde and ye, be Seynt Iohn,
Schull be made bothe at oon,
Goode frendys for to bee.”
Thereof þe Erle was full fayne;
The Emperoure came hym agayne
And sayde, “My frende so free,
My wrath here y the forgeue,
My helpe, my loue, whyll y leue,
Be Hym that dyed on tree!”
Aftur the Erle anon he wente,
And seyde, “Syr, go wyth mee:
My lorde and ye, be Seynt Iohn,
Schull be made bothe at oon,
Goode frendys for to bee.”
Thereof þe Erle was full fayne;
The Emperoure came hym agayne
And sayde, “My frende so free,
419
My helpe, my loue, whyll y leue,
Be Hym that dyed on tree!”
Togedur louely can they kysse;
Therof all men had grete blysse:
The romaunse tellyth soo.
He made hym steward of hys londe
And sesyd agayne into hys honde
That he had rafte hym froo.
The Emperoure leuyd but yerys thre;
Be alexion of the lordys free,
The Erle toke they thoo.
They made hym ther Emperoure,
For he was styffe yn stoure
To fyght agayne hys foo.
Therof all men had grete blysse:
The romaunse tellyth soo.
He made hym steward of hys londe
And sesyd agayne into hys honde
That he had rafte hym froo.
The Emperoure leuyd but yerys thre;
Be alexion of the lordys free,
The Erle toke they thoo.
They made hym ther Emperoure,
For he was styffe yn stoure
To fyght agayne hys foo.
He weddyd þat lady to hys wyfe;
Wyth yoye and myrthe þey ladde þer lyfe
Twenty yere and three.
Betwene þem had þey chyldyr xv,
Doghty knyghtys all bedene,
And semely on to see.
Yn Rome thys geste cronyculyd ywys;
A lay of Bretayne callyd hyt ys,
And euyr more schall bee.
Ihesu Cryste to heuyn vs brynge,
There to haue owre wonnyng!
Amen, amen, for charytee!
Wyth yoye and myrthe þey ladde þer lyfe
Twenty yere and three.
Betwene þem had þey chyldyr xv,
Doghty knyghtys all bedene,
And semely on to see.
Yn Rome thys geste cronyculyd ywys;
A lay of Bretayne callyd hyt ys,
And euyr more schall bee.
Ihesu Cryste to heuyn vs brynge,
There to haue owre wonnyng!
Amen, amen, for charytee!
| Middle English metrical romances | |