The buik of Alexander :: :: University of Virginia Library

The buik of Alexander

Or the buik of the most noble and valiant conquerour Alexander the Grit: By John Barbour ... Edited in four volumes, from the unique printed copy in the possession of the Earl of Dalhousie, with introductions, notes and glossary, together with the French originals (Li Fuerres de Gadres and Les Voeux du Paon) collated with numerous mss.: By R. L. Graeme Ritchie

Barbour, John

I, II.

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[The Buik of Alexander]

Heir beginnis the first parte of this buik of the most noble and valiant Conquerour Alexander the grit.

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Heir Emynedus makis praying To the douze pers to warn the king.

Heir the furriours and thair fais, Assemblis and grete melle mais

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How ȝoung Pirrus lord of Montflour Reskeuit his men and wan honour

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Heir Arreste throw sare praying, Went to warne Alexander the King.

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Heir beginnis the secound part of this buik. Callit the avowis of Alexander.

[prologue]

Heir beginnys the Avous.

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[epilogue]

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Square brackets denote editorial insertions or emendations.

[The Buik of Alexander]

1. Heir beginnis the first parte of this buik of the most noble and valiant Conquerour Alexander the grit.

Callit the Forray of Gadderis.

Vhē Alexāder in his impire
Lay to assege the toun of Tire,
And neir the wallis of that Citie
Vpon a craig, was in the sie,
Ane stalwart Castel gart he mak,
& garnison & vittel tak,
& hes gud fuson thidder sēd
& staluart men it to defend—
Thairwith he thocht to stop the way,
That nouther ship nor ȝit Gallay
Sould be sey cum to the toun
With vittell nor with garnisoun
Bot thay the craig sould cum sa neir
That thay sould be in his dangeir.
The King gart oft his men assaill
With bissines and grit trauell
To tak the nobill toun of Tyre;
Bot Balas, that thairof was Syre,
Defendit it sa manfully,
Throw helping of his cheualry,
That oft the Kingis menȝe ware
Rebutit, beft and woundit sair.
The King thair grit defence hes sene,
And maid ane aith in propir tene
That nane that was in that Cittie,
That micht be takin, sould sauit be;
And to Emynedus de Archade,
That for his hie worship was made
Baith Constabill and ledere
Of all the Kingis oist in were,

He bad him seuin hundreth knychtis ta,
And with thame in to forray ga
Richt to the vale of Iosaphas,
That of mair stoir aboundand was,
As of sheip, oxin and of ky,
Than ony vther land thairby.
The King bad Caulus and Lyoun,
And sindrie vtheris of renoun,
Licanor, Antigonus and Floridas,
Andreome, Areste and Perdiccas,
And ane Earle of mekill micht,
Schir Sabilour to name he hecht,
Pass to comfort the furriouris
And, gif thay mister, to mak rescours.
Schir Sampsoun tuik thay to thair gy,
For he that land knew halely,
Baith strait, plane and valie,
For of Douze pers ane was he.
The King held with him Tholomere
And Danclene, for thay fellowis were;
Of the Douze peiris he held na ma,
The laif he let to Forray ga.
Thay buskit as thay bidding haid,
And fra the hoist euin out thay raid,

Now rydis the furreouris thair way,
Richt stoutly and in gude array.
Schir Sampsoun was thair gyde that nicht,
That led thame in ane randoun richt
To Iosaphas, to tak the pray.
Bot, or thay cum agane, perfay,
Thay sall weill hard assailȝeit be,
For all the men of that cuntre

Raid with hors, armit Iolely,
To keip thair cattell and thair ky.
Thus think thay, throuch thair cheualrie,
Sa stoutly to defend thair fee
That thay of thairis sall haue na thing,
Bot thay it win throw hard fechting.
Thir knichtis of Grece, that war sa wicht,
Raid weill as furreouris that nicht,
With leggis armit withouttin mair,
And squyaris wicht, that with thame wair,
Tursit thair harnes halely,
And led thair guid steidis thame by;
And thusgaittis all the nicht thay raid,
That nouther noyis nor crying maid,
Quhill on the morne, in the morning,
Richt as the day begouth to spring,
In Iosaphas thay fand the ky,
And sawe thame that sa sturdely
Raid furth for to defend their fee;
Bot hyrdis semit thay nocht to be,
For thay raid, armit wantonlie,
On startand steidis of Arabie.
The furriouris, quhan thay thame sawe,
Thay lichtit doun into ane thrawe,
And armit thame but mair abaid.
Emynedus befoir thame raid,
That had into his cumpanie
Seuin hundreth knichtis full hardie.
The furriouris the pray hes tane.
Micht thay thairwith thair gait haue gane,
The Oist micht weill refreshit bene,
Bot the hirdis, quhan thay haue sene

Men seis thair oxin and thair ky,
The scry thay raissit hastely.
Thair chiftane hecht Otessorie;
His men to him he can relie,
And hardelie came thame agane,
And hes fele of the formest slane,
In maugre of thairis reskewit the pray,
And dang the furreouris away.

Emynedvs was wonder wa,
That sawe his men rebutit sa,
And bot vengeance thairof be tane
He prysis him nocht worth a chirrie-stane,
His price nor ȝit his cheualry.
His ensigne than can he cry,
And thay of Grece that with him war,
All in ane sop assemblit ar,
And straucht thair steidis endlang the plane,
And hardely came thame agane.
Emynedus was wonder wa
Quhan that he sawe his furriouris sua
Die for the Cattell that the King
Had chargit thame to the Oist to bring.
Ferrand he straik with spurris in hy,
And straik the first sa rigorusly
That throw the bodie he him bair;
His Haubrik helpit him nocht ane hair.
The laif, with vaponis stith of steill,
In middes the visage met thame weill,
And faucht sua that, in lytill spais,
Of deid and woundit fele thair was;
Bot, with thair swordis to pay ransounis,
Thay tuik na tent to tak presounis.

The furriouris, as I hard say,
In Iosaphas thay tuik the pray;
Bot the hirdis, with swordis of steill,
Hes gud will to defend thame weill.
Caulus came prikand in that stour,
Arrayit into fell gud armour,
And straik sa fast on Bassanor
That he brist all his sheild befoir,
And him out-throuch the bodie bair,
And fellit him [stane] deid richt thair;
Thair endit all his cheualrie.
He was neir sib to Otessorie,
Lytill he was of corps, bot he
Passit all vthir in bounte.
The Grecians, throw thare gret valour,
Mantemyt weill the stalwart stour,
Bot richt wa was Otessory
Quhen he his neuoy dede saw ly;
He straik the steid that weill him bare
And, with his sword that sharpely share,
To ane Grecian he swappit sa
That arme and shulder he dang him fra.
Bot Lyonell, the gud in neid,
Sterit to him in hy ane steid,
That hit him euin vpon the sheild,
To flenderis flew out of the feild;
The stalwart speir in sunderis brast.
As Lyonell far by him past,
The sword he swappit out in hy.
That fell euill to Otessory
That tyme, for in the bargane thair
His helme and lance baith hewin wair;

Bot hat his heid was left all bair,
Bot, for grete eild, was canous hare;
And Lyonell with all his maucht
Wpon the hede ane rout him raucht,
That to the schoulderis he him claue
And dede doun to the erd him draif.
Than, fra that lord was dede, all tyte
The remanand was discumfit quyte,
And to the hillis held thair way;
And thay of Grece sesit the pray
In to sa mekill quantitie
That the oist thairof micht be
Lang tyme easit at thair lyking.
Bot, or thay to the hoist it bring,
Thay sall it by sa deir, perfay,
That thay bocht neuer sa deir ane pray!

The furreouris hes tane the way
Towart the oist, mery and gay;
Bot, or thay thidder cummin be,
The best and of the maist bountie
Of all that rout salbe sory,
For with richt great cheualry
Thair fais before thame sall thay sie
Or that thay cum to the citie.
For duke Betys that Gaderis aucht,
Richt towart Tyre the way hes caucht
To skaill the sege of that citie,
For of gude men with him had he
Threttie thousand and ma, Perfay,
Be seuen hundreth, as I hard say.
Alexander thay mannace greatumly,
And said he did ane great foly

Gif he wald byde thame in battale,
For duke Betys, that thay assale,
Suld of thame weill reuengit be!
As the duke with his grit menȝe
Raid our the hillis, he hes sene
The forreouris all haill bedene,
That in towart Tyre gart drife the pray,
Than to his menȝe can he say:
“Lordis, behald quhat-kin present
That our Goddis hes to vs sent!
Ȝone folk ar of the oist, perfay,
That driffis thiddirwart the pray;
Bot I tak now ane vengance
Sone in this new acquentance,
I hope neuer to hald of land
Ane akirbreid in to my hand!
And Alexander sall find, na faill,
This day that I luif him bot smaill!”

Heir Emynedus makis praying To the douze pers to warn the king.

Emynedus formest hes sene
The battellis and thare baneris schene,
Than to the knichtis of Grece in hy
He sais, “now ridis wittely,
For of Gaderis the empire
With Betys (that thairof was sire)
Cummis vpon vs sturdely!
We ar in perell sickerly
Outher of dede or of turment,
Gif God sum succour to vs sent!
Bot, or we dee on that manere,

Our deidis sall be sauld full dere.
I trow weill now that folk sall se
Quha hes maist vertew and bounte,
And quha the hart hes maist hardy!
Wist Alexander of this cheualry,
His winnyng suld be worth this day
Ane houndreth thousand pund, perfay,
Bot God will nocht that it sa be;
Our euenture heir ta mon we!”
With that, thay lichtit all in fere,
And armit thame on gude manere.

The gude Emynedus beheld
Thame of Gaderis our-tak the feild,
That thikkar our the hillis did thraw
Than in grete wynd on sey dois waw;
He saw the battellis approchand
With baneris to the wynd waiffand,
And saw few with him, for to fecht
Aganis men sa mekill of micht;
And he on na kyn wise couth se
How thay micht best reskewit be,
Bot Alexander, the nobill king,
Wald speid him sone in thare helping.
He sichit, and the tearis than
For piete our his chekis Ran,
And to schir Licanor can he say,
“Gude schir, ȝe se in quhat affray
The folks of Gadris hes vs set.
Bot gif we succour the sonar get,
Alexander sall tyne to-day
The folks that he luffit maist ay.
And ȝe haue hors richt weill at hand,

Stalwart, stith and weill sterand,
And ȝe thair nocht dreid na chaissing!
Sais, gif ȝour willis be, to the king:
Bot gif he succour ws in hy,
All dede in Gaderis mon we ly!”

Quhen Licanor had hard this saw,
For propir tene began to thraw,
And said, “that I will nocht, perfay;
Thair force first I will assay!
My scheild, that now is haill and feir,
Sall hewin be in pecis seir;
My hawbrek and my helm of steill
Salbe to-hewin ilk a deill,
And I neir woundit out of life,
Or ony leuand man me driue,
Or do to gar me tak the flicht!
To were me ȝit I haue sum micht!”

Emynedus sais, “Philot, bew syre!
Ga to the king that lyis at Tyre
And tellis him how duke Betys,
With Gaderis, Turkis and Arabys,
In haill battell thretty thousand
And ma, quhat lord and quhat seruand,
Ar cummand on vs sudandly,
And, bot he speid him haistaly
And succour vs with his barnye,
In lyfe he sall vs neuer se!”
“Shir,” said Philot, “sa God me sane!
I sall se first the grete bargane
Begin with brandis that ar bricht,
And thay that wourthy ar and wicht
How thay thair hardyment dar assay.

I war wele mair than shent, perfay,
Gif I went now as messingeir
And left ȝow in sik perrall heir!
Quhill my haubrek to-hewin is,
And my gude helme also, I wis,
Sall to-hewin be about my eiris,
And my sheild thirlit with stalwart speiris,
And my blude into great fusoun
Be fletand on my arsoun,
My steid, that now sic stering mais,
Be fallen in the haltand pais—
Gif I gang than to say sik thing,
Sall nouther Tholomere, na the King,
Na ȝit Danclene, that is thame by,
Say that I fled hame cowardly!
We sall be first on hard assay,
For I sie nathing now that may
Mar vs sa mekill as cowardis;
In hardiment all our worship lyis.
Thairfor be we als sikker all
As stane closit in castell wall,
For douchty men ar shent, Perfay,
That dreidis ouermekill for ane day.”

Emynedvs the hillis beheld,
And sawe the Gadderis ouertak the feild,
Attour the hilles, with thair baneris
And ensigneis on seir maneris;
As in grit wynd dois haill and snaw,
Sa come thay on but dreid or aw,
And in the formaist front befoir,
He sawe mair than ane hundreth scoir,
And ma thay war, and sik, perfay,

That semit thay wald be at assay.
And than of Grece the cheualry,
Thay war affrayit greatumly,
For thair was nane thar, I dar say,
Sa hardy that tuik tent to pray.
The gude Emynedus tuke Lyoun
And maid him prayer and sermoun
To pas thair errand to the King:
“Say, shir, gif ȝe will do this thing,
The pryse all hail of this iorne,
And our weilfair, sall ȝouris be.”
Than said Lyon, “sa God me saif!
Sik pryse think I nocht to haif.
Na, I will nocht sik message ma,
Bot gif men trow me quhair I ga.
My helme, my sheild nor ȝit my speir
[Is] nouther brokin nor bowit in weir;
And Tholomeir weill syne sould say
I fled for cowardise away,
Or, gif I left in sic ane neid
The folke that I haue heir to leid
Micht say that thay haue euill warrand,
That fled and left thame barganand!
With thame will I tak gude and ill,
Lat God wirk syne quhat euer he will!”

Emynedvs sair noyit was,
And said to hardy Perdicas,
“Gude shir, gang [into] this message.”
And he ansuered, as ane in rage,
“Thow lufis me nocht that sa me prayis!
I will abyde with the, neid-wayis,
To helpe the to pas this pace!

Me leuer war, into this cace,
Wery and woundit with the be,
Than ony leuand man sould se
Me, haill and feir, into my micht,
For ony chance eschew the ficht;
And gif I now went to the King
And left ȝow heir in fell fechting,
I war mair tratour than Iudas,
And the gud King that wan Damas
War wickit, sa the Lord me sane!
Bot I to-morne war brint or slane!”

Emynedvs sayis to shir Caulus,
“Gang fetche the King to succour vs.
Ane of his Douze pers ar ȝe,
Ȝe fall ouer all mair trowit be!
Say to him, but he vs succour sone,
We ar all confusit and done,
For with his folke the duke Betys
Hes vs inclusit on sic ane wys
That it semis thay sparhalkis war
And we lawrokis, that durst bot dar!”
And he sayis, “shir Emynedus,
Perfay, this message is to refuse,
And, be the faith I to ȝow aw,
Quhan I for power, strenth or aw
Sall of this stalwart stour be gane,
Behind thair [I] fall nocht leif ane,
Bot gif I sa woundit be
That [I] micht set na help in ye.”

Emynedus sais to Arreste,
“Ȝe ar sa full of grete bounte
That ȝe, I trow, will help at neid,

To gar the King him hidder speid.
I knawe the steid that ȝe on ryde.
I wate that in this warld sa wyde
Is [na] hors that may him ouer-tak.
For vs the message man ȝe mak,
And say vnto our Lord the King
In his hand is our succouring;
And gif ȝe will this errand make,
All haill the pryse, I vndertake,
Of this iornay, and our weill-fair,
Sall ȝouris be for euermair.
And gif ȝe will nocht it for vs maik,
Gud shir, do it for Goddis saik
And for the gentill Kingis lufe,
That oft was wont for vs [to] prufe
Lufe, largenes and tendernes,
Gud cumpanie and humbilnes!”
And he answered and said, “Parde!
Into Paradise wald I nocht be
Halely to serue on sic seruis!
For the worst that amangis vs is
Me think that ȝe haue chosin me!
And in short tyme I trow that ȝe
Sould scorne me, fra I war went.
My haubrek salbe first to-rent,
And my helme also hewin be
In seir places, that men may se,
My sword richt in my hand bludy,
And I als woundit in the body
In sindrie places, or I ma
This message that ȝe carp of sa!
The King sall neuer haue na cause to say,

Na ȝit shir Tholomere, perfay,
That I fled hin for cowardise!
I wald nocht to haue Paradise
In thank to change, to be trewlie
Fra ȝow, out of this companie.
Thy-selfe may best this errand may,
That thou oft carpis to assay!”
Emynedus said him curtasly,
“Beuschir, ȝe wait richt weill that I
Am Constabill ordaned be the King,
And hes ȝow heir in gouerning.
And I left ȝow but gouernall,
Fechtand in sa fell battall,
I sould all warldis honour tyne,
And, with gud richt, be hangit syne.
Bot had the King biddin ȝow be
Constabill, as he hes biddin me,
Than micht I weil this message ma,
And sould foroutin grudging ga.
Bot in this point it may nocht be,
For sen the King ȝow taucht to me,
Me had leuer die in bataill
Than ocht in my defalt sould faill.”

Qvhan that the Duke sawe his trauaill
To get succour micht nocht availl
And that nocht ane wald for him ga,
In his hart he was wonder wa,
And to Antigonus said he,
“Gud shir, gif it ȝour willis be,
To Tyre our message will ȝe beir
Vpon that steid, that is suifter
Than is Sparhalk, Pertrik or quailȝe?

Say to the King, gif he vs failȝe,
To succour vs in full grit hy,
All deid in Gaderis mon we ly!”
And he answered and said, “Parde!
Heir in this battell will I be,
To helpe ȝow for to leis ȝon rout.
Gif ony sall ga, foroutin dout
It sall ane vther be than I;
For heir sall I dwell, sikkerly.
Of me sall na man say that shame,
That I am fra the battell gane,
And left my feiris in sic ane stour,
Quhair thay micht preue thair grit valour,
For-thy, gud shir, for cheritie,
Of that ȝe carpe na mair to me!”

The douchtie Duke Emynedus
Said efter to Antiochus,
“Into this message mon ȝe ga
On bausand that, I vnderta,
Is suifter than is foull of flicht.
Say to our nobill King of micht,
Bot he vs helpe with staluart hand,
He sall not sie vs on lyfe leuand.”
Than answered he and said, “Perfay,
Quhan I haue bene in sic ane fray
That my sheild be to-frushit all,
My haubrek hewin in peces small,
And arme and shoulder all bludie be,
The Duke Betys and his menȝie
Be discomfite alluterly—
Than, gif I leif, I sall blythlie
Ga tell thir tythingis to the King;

He sal nocht call thame gabbing.
Gif I ga els, foule him befall
That recryand will nocht me call!”

Emynedvs sayis, “shir Sampsoun,
Gang to the King, gentill Barroun,
And bid him cum into grit hy,
To succour vs with his cheualry,
For of Gaderis all the barnie,
That thretty thousand or ma may be,
With felloun battell hes vs socht.”
He said, “shir duke, ȝe carp for nocht.
I sit all armit on my steid,
Richt freshely flowand in my weid,
Ȝarnand to conqueir and to haif
The land that the gud King me gaif,
And abydis the battell heir,
That we sall haue richt sone but weir;
And gif I ȝeid [in] this message
As sould ane knaif do, or ane page,
Than my worship war all in vane.
Me had leuer in feild be slane
Than leif the fecht in sik degre.
Outher sall thay all ouris be
Or we sall all die but ransoun.”
Quhen that he herd, gud Emynedoun,
He kest doun his he[ve]de in hy
And regrated full tenderly
Of the King, Tholomere & Cliton,
And said, “now beis departicion
Of the Douze pers that ay
Thame prouit weill at hard assay!”
With that, thay of that vther party

Cryit, “ȝe sall all die haistely!
Leif ȝe the pray, we challenge it!
Or we sall reid ȝow sic ane fit
That ȝe sall all the headis tyne
Or die, ilkane, with dule and pyne!”

Qvhan Emynedus had hard . . . [OMITTED]
And his trauell was all in vane,
And that he micht find nane wald ga
His message, na his erand ma,
The teiris ouer his chekis ran,
And smertly he regratit than
Alexander, the nobill King,
And said, “a! lord, at our all thing,
Was wount to lufe vs and to pryse,
And giftis gif on mony wyse,
Thy treasure and thy nobill steidis,
Thy gret riches and ryall weidis,
And all that God lattis the conqueir,
Thow geuis frely but dangeir,
On lyfe thou sall vs neuer sie!
Allace! this day grit neid haue we
Of Danclene and of Tholomeir,
That in ane stour can weill thame steir;
And I can find, for na kin thing,
Ane knycht that ryde will to the King,
To set helping in his menȝie.
Certis, I can na succour se.”
He lukit than in feild him by,
And sawe ane gud knicht in great hy
Licht, him allane, vnder ane trie.
Corneus to name hecht he.
Pure of all gudis he was,

Bot of hart he had grete riches.
He panit him sa tentifly
To arme his hede and his body,
For that day thocht he for to greif
His fais, and his worship preif,
And suage on thame his matelent,
And with grete strenth and hardement
Manteme the kingis mense that day.
Emynedus meikly can him say,
“I cry the of thir folk mercy,
Schir, saif thame for ȝour courtasy!
And gif thow will do this message,
I am reddy in all ostage
That thow sall thank haif of the king,
And grete reward for thy ganging;
And the douze pers, gif thow will ga,
Sall ȝeild the mekill thank alsa.”
The knycht said, “schir, be heuinnis king,
My thocht is on ane vther thing.
Gif that succouris mon gottin be,
Ȝe mon ane vther send than me!
Thocht I be pure, in euill array,
I think my vertew to assay.
Men suld nocht repruf pouerte,
Thocht pure men ay skornit be,
For pure men sa vnwourthy is,
Vneis that ony will thame pryse,
Or loif, or turne thair deidis in gude.
For fare hecht wald ȝe change my mude
And shame me for hope of geuing.
For, be him that is heuinis King,
And I micht get [sa] lang laseir

That I micht pres[t] me in my gere
And lepe vpon my stalwart steid,
That oft hes helpit me in my neid,
I sall induce ȝow to begin
This bargane, quha-sa tyne or win!
And, be the faith that I aw to the king,
Quhen I, for force of hard fechting
Or dreid of dede, away sall ryde,
Ȝe sall na will haue to abyde.”
Emynedus ansuerit him till,
“Thow bydis with sa richt gude will
That I can on na wayis blame the.
God sawe the, gif his willis be!”

Emynedvs callit Festioun,
That was ane man of grete renoun,
And with Alexander was priuie;
His maister chalmerlane was he.
He said, “gang say our Lord the king,
That we hald of all our halding,
That the day is cummin that we
Sall by full dere his grete bounte,
For duke Betys, that bald baroun,
Hes brocht vs hard processioun,
And knychtis to assay vs sa
That nane on lyfe sall pas him fra!
Say the gude king he spedely ride
To succour vs in to this tyde.
And will ȝe, schir, do this erand,
Ȝour saull ȝe bring to lyfe lestand!
Ȝe se weill that ȝour dede is neir,
That at our hand is cumand heir.
The myscheif is to grete, I hecht,

Gif that we with sa mony fecht.
Bot gif the gude King cum, that we
Hald for our lord and avowie,
Helmis and heidis mon we tyne;
Bot in his sword lyis our helpyne.
Bot quhan that I vmbethink me
Of his great worship and bountie,
And of manheid and hie empryse
That we haue sene him do oft-syse,
My hart, it growis sa sturdelly
That I think of my-selfe ferly
That we sa greatly sould thame dread,
Suppose it now fallin be in dead
That at mischeif we fundin ar.
Me had leuer with dule and cair
Be deid, than thay vnsailȝeit be!”
Quod Festioun, “sa God me sie!
Gud shir, now haue ȝe spokin richt!
Now be we fallowis in this ficht!
I sall not pas out of this feild
Quhill I sie sa haill my sheild
And quhill I sie sa great mellie
That cowardis sall anoyit be.
Now be we Sparhalkis and thay Quailȝeis,
For multitude in fecht oft failȝeis!
Thocht thay be ma nor we, for-thy
Seik we the first sa sturdely
That the hindmaist abasit be!
We ar all chosin of great bountie,
And priuie with the nobill King
That geuis sa mony ryall thing;
And it is full gud richt that we

Quyte him merite for his bountie.
To leif or die quhidder God will send,
Luke with honour that we [sa] wend
That our airis nocht blamit be,
Na ȝit the King in na degre
Haue shame, quhat ending that we ma,
Nor na man euill rehersing ma,
To sing of vs efter our day.
Our hardiment sall we assay,
For in fele places haue we bene,
Our hardiment with worship sene,
That we na wayis sould vs mismay,
Bot be of gude comfort ay;
For to dreid deid sa grittumly
May fall bot shame, full sikkerly;
Quha for his Lord dois, he sall be
Harbreid with Angellis gle.
The Kingis freindis sall to-day
Be knawen in this hard assay;
Quha lufis his honour, he sall be
Renoumed in this great mellie!”

Emynedvs beheld him by,
Beheld ane pure man anerly
Licht, him allane, vnder ane tre,
That had nocht bot his hors and he,
Ane sheild, ane helme, ane suord but mair,
And thay ȝit sa vnworthie ware
That nane that worth war, wald thame ta,
Bot gif he wald cast thame him fra.
Richt stout visage and fair he had,
With browis brent and shoulderis braid,
And small in vame and als lenȝie.

Ane large fute and fair had he,
Crispit hair and sumdele broun;
His hede he bair as ane lyoun;
With lymmys square and manly maid,
And armys lang and schoulderis braid.
Quhat sall I say of his renoun?
He was sa fair of all fassoun
That nane farar mycht fundin be.
He was man of grete quantatie,
His beird of new begouth to spring . . . [OMITTED]
“Had he bene dicht in gude armyng,
Amang fyue houndreth suld thair be
Sa knycht-lik man to cheis as he?
Men suld nocht in ane stalwart stour
For the sone of ane empriour
Change him, as me think sickerly.”
Bot had he knawin him werraly,
He suld haue haldin him full dere;
His sister sone he was, but were,
Gottin of ane prince of grete renoun.
Daurus had haldin him in presoune
Weill .xiiij. ȝere before, ane page,
For his father in to hostage.
Large he was and fair of feir,
And to the oist of Grece, but weir,
Thre dayis before, cummin he was
Richt as it hapnit him per cais,
Bot ȝit had he nocht sene the King,
Na knew bot quhein of his duelling.

Emynedvs sais to him, “gude freind,
In this message I pray the weind!
Ga furth, gif that thy willis be,

To bring vs of this perplexitie,
Thir folke that ar into sik thrang.
For Goddis lufe prais the to gang
And say to Alexander, gif he
Will vs reskew with his barnie,
That he wan neuer sa mekill ane day
As in this bargane win he may.
For he may succour his menȝe
And victor of his fais to be.
Thay think as now to skaith vs sa
That nane sall quick eschaip thame fra
Thow hes, me think, na gud arming,
And to byde, it is perrillous thing;
And, gif thow will do this message,
Thow sall haue vnto thy vantage
Ane hundreth pund of gold, perfay,
And thair-with-al by the thow may
Arming and hors of grit bounte.”
“A beauscheir,” to the duke said he,
“Ȝe sould nocht make me prayer!
Ȝit sawe I neuer the King, but weir,
Na with sik tythandis, for na chance,
Think I to mak my first quentance.
Ȝe sould not mak ȝour messinger
Of ane pure man that strange wer.
Send to him ane richer man,
That do ȝour erand better can;
And gif I ga, God, for his will,
Lat me neuer cum agane ȝow till!
Ȝit was I neuer in ane stour
Quhair I micht preue my valour,
And into this I think to-day

To byde, and my vertew assay.
And ȝit may fall in this battale
To ȝow and ȝouris I may avale;
And thocht I haue na gud arming
Now at the battell beginning,
I think, or it all endit be,
That I sall haif aneuch, parde!
Sa helpe me God, that mekill may!
Ane thing I will heir to ȝow say:
Thair sall na thing abase me sa
That I first of the feild sall ga!
And ȝit I sall anoyit be,
Bot I be first at the mellie!”

Emynedvs kest doun his face
And in his hart great anger hes.
Quhan he sawe that na man wald ga
In the message, bot sonȝe ma.
The teiris in great plentie
Ran ouer his cheikis for pure pitie,
For he wist, but thay had belyue
Rescours, sould nane be left on lyue
Of all that was into that rout.
Sa saw he Caulus, that was stout,
Arme him as man of grit valour,
His armes quhyter far than flour.
Emynedus meikly can him pray,
To pas furth to the King, and say
That thay war all but deid and done,
Bot he with strenth thame succour sone.
Quhan Caulus hard his carping,
He leuch for pryde, as in hething,
And angerly can answer ma,

“Thow art na freind that chargis me sa!
God me confound gif I schemit be
To-day, for vthir or for ye!
I sit all armyt on my steid,
And gif I fleand fra ȝow ȝeid,
I seruit ȝow of euill seruice.
I do it nocht for all paradice,
Before that my gude habersoun,
That now is of ane fyne fassoun,
In sindry placis to-fruschit be;
And, or I pas, I trow that ȝe
Sall se my body of blude all rede,
Woundit in perell of the dede.
The king hes geuin me grete cuntreis
And rentis of mony fare Cieteis,
And he that sa grete feis tais
Suld the strenth of his lordis fais
Suffer sum quhile at grete myscheif,
Thocht dede appeir, perell and greif.
My hart is set vpon na thing
Bot how I may, but soiornyng,
Auance my lordis honour ay;
And sen I am in sic array
And stridin our my stalwart steid,
I am traistar, sa God me speid,
Than I into ane castell ware.
I intromettit me neuer are
In message for to do nor say;
Nane will I, certis, do this day!”

Emynedvs lukit him by,
And saw ane knycht in full grete hy
Array him on ane ryall steid.

He was ane of the gud at neid
That micht be fundin in ony cuntre;
He was neir sib to Areste.
Emynedus sais, “for Goddis saik,
This message for vs will ȝe maik?
Gang to the hoist and tell the King,
Bot he him speid in our helping,
For we had neuer sa hard assay,
The stoutest of vs all, perfay,
Sall sone ȝarne erar hame to be
Than haue all France in his pouste.”
And he said, “how that euer it ga,
This message will I na way ma,
Quha-euer thairat wraith or blyth be.
Into my sheild first sall I sie
Sik woundis that the King sall say
That I come fra na herdis play,
Na that my steid sall nocht be
Sa greatly soiornit vnder me.”

Emynedvs saw neir approchand
His fais richt felloun, neir cumand
As folk that war of grit rigour,
Reddie to ȝeild that stalwart stour.
He sawe thame first thair sheildis ta,
Thair brandis and stith speiris alsua.
He sawe sa feill broudin baneris,
And pennomis vpon seir maneris,
And helmis als and vther armin,
That cleirly agane the Sone shein;
And mony steid stith steirand
He saw into the front cumand;
Trumpetis, Taburnes and hornes blast

Soundit sa hideously and sa fast
The greatest hoist, and the stoutest,
Of ony cuntre, and the best,
Suld of that sicht abasit be.
Besyde him thairwith can he sie
Areste, that was gude at neid,
Sittand all armit on his steid,
And, gretand than with sair siching,
He said, “guid shir, for heuinis King,
Haue of thir folke reuth and pitie,
For, certis, I can na succour sie,
Gif ȝe vs failȝe to set helping.
The laif hes me ansuered at thair lyking,
And tauld me largely thair intent,
Bot all to lait sall thame repent.
Sa lang thairon standin haif we
That lait it is to luke and sie
Quhidder is better to byde or fle away.”
And he ansuered and said, “perfay,
I sie ȝe hait me vterly,
Quhan ȝe will not lat me byde ȝow by,
The great charge of the stour to beir.
Men war wont sum tymes heir
To cheis me with the best to be,
And ȝe now tuise hes prayit me.
Bot nocht-for-thy men sould meikly
Obey to sa guid and worthy
As ȝe ar, for better than ȝe
May neuer with sword beltit be.
Thairfoir for ȝow and for the King,
That hes vs all in gouerning,
And for the folke, that I heir sie

In perrill and in perplexitie,
This message do for ȝow I will,
Gif God will gif me grace thair-till.
Bot my sheild suthly first shall be
To-hewin, that men sall weill it sie,
My helme and als my habersoun;
And I sall sie in grit fusoun
The blude rin out of my body,
And my steid, that is gude, sall halely
Be haillit in blude and sueat alsa;
But verray takinnis I will nocht ga.
Quhan I am stad as I ȝow say,
And I than prayit be, gif I may
Haif mycht and space and lyfe thairto,
This message glaidly will I do.
Thair sall nane mak at me scorning,
Gif I may, at my departing,
Na ȝit the King sall nocht blame me
To gretly, gif I may him se.”
With that, thay war on athir side
All reddy semblit for to ryde,
With vapnis that war bricht as flour,
Redie to ȝeild that stalwart stour.
The knychtis of Grece [were] quhone, bot thai
Gouernit thame-self wysly, perfai.
Thai lichtit all in full grete hy,
And armyt thame all comonly,
Gaderit thare hors and knyt thair renȝes,
And to thair speris fesnit senȝeis,
And syne lap on thair steidis styth,
And embraissit thair scheldis swyth.
Thay raid wisly and in gude array,

And ilk man can to vther say,
“Sie that our worship now appeir”;
For the wordis richt lykand weir
That men speikis of thame that dois weill.
The myscheif was to great to feill
That thay of Grece, that war sa wicht,
Assemblit in the feild to fecht
With thame of Gaderis, the grete empire,
That all inflammit war with ire,
That ma than .XXX. thousand wair,
And thai bot seuin houndreth, but mair
Thai misfell at thare first semble,
For ane that was of maist bounte
Amang thame at thare first meting
Was slane, but ony vther recouering.
That stoneit thame gretlie that day,
And Alexander regratit thay,
Bot nocht-for-thy thai sauld him dere,
Bot thai swa quhein amang thame were
That vneis micht thai knawen be,
Or sene, amang that grete menȝe.

Heir the furriours and thair fais, Assemblis and grete melle mais

First at the semble of the ficht
Iustit schir Sampsone, for he was wicht,
That for to win had grete ȝarning
The land that him had geuin the king.
He and the duke Betis, thai tua,
With speris stracht can thai ga,
And straik sic straikis till blasonis
Thirlit haistaly thare habirgeonis.
Sampsone in flenderis brak his spere,

Bot the duke, that was wyse in weir,
With his speir that sharpely share,
Him baklingis throw the body bare,
And laid him deid richt suddanly;
And ioynt and clois passit him by,
And said him in his by-passing,
“I am weill certane of ane thing,
That we sall neuer of thy mouth heir
Iudgement; fra this day, but weir,
Sall Alexander say and feill
That I nor myne lufis him neuer a deill,
And Balas, that hes Tyre in fie,
That we haue wengit him on the!
Thow sall neuer of his honour
Hald castell, cittie, toun na tour!”

The mischeif was great and cruell
Of Sampsoun, that deid doun fell.
The knychtis of Grece thair micht men sie
Be stad in grit perplexitie.
Emynedus anoyit was,
And said to hardy Perdicas,
“Alexander, the gentill King!
This day of vs beis departing!
A! sen thow war into this stour,
Throw thy helpe, worship and valour,
Thow sould vs venge richt weill, Perfay,
We man all die with dule this day.
A! Sampsoun, sweit freind, sa sone
Hes all thy douchtie dayis done!
Bot I the venge, shent mot I be!”
With that, with spurris his steid straik he,

And plungit in the thikkest preis,
And smot schir Saladyne, that was
Ane knycht of Gaderis, at the chyn;
He bristand bair him butlingis in,
To all throughout the spere went syne,
And he fell doun with dule and pyne.
Thair was wengance, and that was richt,
Tane for schir Sampsoun, that was wicht.
The knychtis of Grece, that was stout,
Lappit togiddir all in ane rout,
And suore that nane suld vthir faill
For dout of dede, in that battaill.
Festione, weill arrayit at richt
In armour that was fare and bricht,
Sat on ane stalwart steid of pryse,
In gude sandell at all deuise
Couerit, and throw sutelte
Lyons of gold war set thair thre.
The scheld was styth, the knycht hardy
And in the stour sa sturdely
He smot in the stour before
Ane knycht, had caucht schir Licanore,
Chargit with strakis sa stalwartly.
He gart him deir the bargane by,
For throw the he[ve]de he him bare
And fellit him stane-dede richt thare.
He deit suyth, and sa did ma,
For all that euer he micht our-ta
Vpone the samyng wyse he gart ly,
For he gaif thame nane vther mercy.
Few eschewit his strakis, I hecht,
He gaif sic strakis in to that fecht.

Cavlvs, callit Emenelis,
Sat armit on ane steid of prys.
I trow he sall contene him weill,
For in hard battale morteill
Quhair knychtis suld assailȝet be,
Men micht find sone ane war than he.
His scheld was gold but vther colour,
And in the cantel was set ane flour.
The prince of Corynthe smot he sa
That he him to the ground gard ga,
In to ane heip, baith hors and knycht.
As scheip that for the wolf takis flicht,
He led the folk before him was.
Quhen Gaderanis saw sa hard ane pais
Be held thame, thai war all sary.
Syne to his feris he went in hy.

Licanor and Philot alsua,
Thay wounder wourthe brethir tua,
War of ane will and ane stoutnes,
Bot nocht all of ane mekilnes.
Licanor was ane partie broun,
And wonder fetas of fassoune,
Baith wise, courtes and wicht was he.
Philot was of mare quantite,
Of ioyous and of blyth manere,
With stout visage and lauchand chere,
Richt kynd, courtes and amorous;
And thai war baith glaid and ioyous.
All armyt in to ane colour,
Thay come baith prekand in the stour.
Lycanor smot ane knicht sa fast
That of his nek the vanis brast;

And laid him dede doun to the ground.
The knycht was callit Ingramound;
He was ane mychty cenatour,
And held grete lordschip and honour.
And Philot, with ane grete waffyne,
Smot ane stout knycht, callit Coruyne,
That he him fellit dede richt thair.
Of that straik fele affrayit ware
Sum of the Gaderanis that assailȝeit;
And quhen the bretheris speris failȝit,
Thair swordis swyftly out thai swyng.
Mare than ane bow-schot, on ane lyng,
At thair fais thai ruschit sturdely.
Na man of thame was sa hardy
That thai na gaif the brother steid,
Sa of thair handis to de thai drede.

Vpone ane steid of grete bounte,
In the stour prikit Areste,
With ane spere schairp and weill scherand,
The pensale to the wynd waiffand,
Fair corps and hie and stark he had,
With stout visage, and richt weile maid.
Men micht nocht fynd in na countre
Ane man mair ganand knycht to be.
Nane micht endure agane his dynt,
His fais chaissit than as he mynt.
He smot ane duke hecht Morgathare,
That throw the body he him bare,
Sa that nouther scheld nor blassone
Auaillit him of ane buttoune.
He duschit doune in blude all rede;
He bocht full deir schir Sampsonis dede,

Quha-sa thairof be wraith or blyith.
Sic leuch before sall greit all suyth.
The renkis begouth sa thik that
He feld full fair in sadill sat.
Thair men micht sie ane staluart stour,
And sheildis that war of great colour
To-frushit, and speiris brak in shunder,
Steidis ouertirf, knichtis ly vnder,
And sadillis temit of douchty men.
Areste stoutly prikkit then
In middes the thikkest of the thrang,
And with his sword about him dang.
Sa sawe he in the stour, him by,
Emynedus sa sturdely
Help him-self with waponis snell
That it war wounder for to tell,
For he sa hard his fais led
That he baith blude and harnes shed,
And with his brand, of blude all rede,
Ouertyruit the deid men vpon dede.
He said, “a! gentill duke of pris,
Abone all knichtis to loif thow is,
That leuand is in warld this day
Is nane thy peir, suithly to say.
Men that sik ledaris hes as the
Durst not gritly abasit be
To challenge weill thair lordis richt,
For sikkerly it is not licht
To distroy thame; but thy skirming
Geuis to vs all recomforting.
Efter thy dint na sawe may saue.
Maugre of God euer mot he haue

That is anoyit at the King
Hald the in great cherising,
For better na thow may spend na speir,
Na into battell wapin beir!”

Perdicas sawe on ather syde
The folk assemble with routis ryde,
And hard trumpettis and hornes blaw,
And mony worthy man he saw,
Reddie to smyte on sindrie wise
And vndertak full hie emprise.
He sawe the gude, with hart full thra,
Throw out the thik preis cum and ga,
Sum stryke with sword and sum with speir.
He was hardy and wicht in weir,
And prikked sa to the tuther party
That he rushit richt sturdely
In middes of the stalwart ficht,
And with sic wraith he smot ane knicht
That hecht shir Amere, and was ane
Of Melchis xij sonnes; bot thair was nane
Better of hand than was he,
Na manlyar knicht in na cuntre.
Thair micht na armour him auailȝe;
He ran throw the corps in the entrailȝe,
He bair him baklingis with ane spere,
And dede doun to the erd can bere;
And passit clos by, and drew his brand.
Quhom euir he hit, I tak on hand,
He chapit nocht vnhurt him fra.
He raid, or he arest wald ma,
Ane archear-schot all out and mare;
A poynt apertly maid he thair.

Bot, at ane lytill burne passing,
His hors him failȝeit of leping,
And with the foirfute enterit sua
That hors and he to eird can ga.
Than thai of Gaderis in full grete hy
Schot vpone him full douchtely,
And to dede had him doungin thus,
Had nocht bene duke Emynedus,
That prekit to him in full grete hy
And dang the folk sa rigorously
That vpone him thair dingand was
That, maugre thairis, thai left the place.
He horssit him, quhethir thay wald or nocht,
And syne towart thare fais thay socht.
In sic ane ledare men micht affye,
That helpit his men sa duchtelye.

Cornevs set him vpone ane bay,
That he gart hardely hald his way.
In the thikkest preis he prekit to,
In thocht and will richt weill to do,
As nobill knycht and wicht in were.
He smot ane king sa with ane spere,
That neuoy was to duke Betys,
That of the nobill steid of prys
He draif him dede doune to the ground.
Thare schewit wele in to that stound
That he ane hard pais can thaime leid;
He bocht full dere schir Sampsonis dede,
That he thairfore hes tynt the sueit.
Sic leuch befoir that now sall greit!

Antigonvs, that wourthy was,
Plungit into the thikkest preis.

With spere in fewter and scheld embraissit,
Haubreik indoissit and weill laissit;
Him semit weill ane knycht to be,
And on ane gude steid als sat he,
That nouther king nor empriour
Mycht better haue in stalwart stour.
He saw ane hardy Arraby
Socht to the renk sa sturdely
That he the Grecians febillit fast.
Four deid to ground thair can he cast.
Antigonus to him sterit his steid,
And he him met in that, gude speid,
Bot he missit and by can gang,
For that his hors was hewit strang.
Ȝit than Antigonus smot him sua
That he the scheld smot euin in tua,
And the gude hawbrek that was thair-vndir
Throw strenth & vertew brast in schoundir,
And throw the body he him bare,
And fellit him stane-deid richt thare;
His spere brak, bot his brand he drew
And strakis rude about him threw,
And fellit mony mudy knycht,
For he was hardy, bald and wicht.
His fais sall nocht hald him that day
For child at striking, gif he may!

Andreane was armit fute and hand,
And raid on brydill wallapand,
In fewter set his stalwart spere,
His scheild embraissit ioynt in his gere;
His armes he bare iolely,

And strenȝeit in his sterapis stythly.
Prikkand he smot ane Araby,
That he met first, sa sturdely
That deid doune to the erd him bare.
Men callit that knycht schir Calafare,
And wounder mychty in all thing,
Richt prudent in his gouerning;
Vpone ȝond halfe of flom Iordane,
Of land he held ane mekill pane.
This knycht before slew ane Romane,
Philotis neir cousing germane;
Bot he was quyt thare trewly,
For Andreane deid doune gart him ly.

Into the renk prekit Lyoun,
All helit in ane sandale broun,
With orpharis all couerit about,
King Alexander the sterne and stout
Had geuin him, withowtin were,
With pinsale on the samyn manere.
He in the scheld smot Aradas,
That of Pharone the cheif lord was,
That haubrek, scheld nor ȝit ventale,
Agane the dynt mycht nocht avale,
That he to erd deid doun him draue;
Syne, with straucht arm, straik on the laif
Sa fast at he had fellit thre
Or euer his renȝe arrest wald he.

How ȝoung Pirrus lord of Montflour Reskeuit his men and wan honour

The pure man that vnarmit was
Raid prekand stoutly throw the preis.

He was neuoy to Emenydounis,
And held of him baith towris and tounis.
His scheild to-fruschit was halely,
And he woundit in the body,
Bot the wound was litill, suthlie,
And he had bundin it straitlie.
Wpon ane syde of the feild he saw
Ane knycht of Gaderis without fallow,
Armyt in to full riche armour.
His armis quhitar war than flour,
His scheild was bordouret richely
With gold and asure halely,
His hors was fare; he saw neuer knycht
That him thocht sa gaily dicht.
On syde sa stoutly he him straik
That all suddanly the hede can tak
Baith of the knycht and of the steid,
And his necbane in sounder ȝeid,
And his chyn brak dispitusly.
The child than lychtit doun in hy,
And dicht him in his armour swith,
And syne lap on his steid sa styth.
His swerd nakit in hand he bare,
Beheld his leggis, how thay ware
Arrayit in melȝe of fyne hew,
His hart within his body grew;
He saw his eme at erd, him by,
And his gude steid vpon him ly,
For he was fallin in ane turnyng.
Seuyne knychtis he saw vpon him dyng,
That grete rowtis vnto him raucht.
The child cryit “Archade!” with all his maucht

And towart him raid in full great hy,
And smot the first sa sturdely
That he smote euin the arme in tua,
And ane other to the erd can ga;
And rushit, with that, vpone the laif,
And mony deidly dynt thame gaif;
Sa of the seuin slew he fyue.
With that, the duke vpstart belyue—
The tother tua hes left that steid—
And he drest him into his weid,
And said, “quhat art thow, freind, that me
Hes in this thrang done this bounte?”
“Schir,” said the childe, “I hecht Pyrrus,
And neuoy is to Emynedus.
In Daurus presoun haue I bene
Weill xiiij. ȝeir, forouttin wene.
For, quhan I was ane lytill page,
For my fader I went in hostage;
Now (louit be God!) eschaipit am I.
I haue bene scornit this day greatly
For armour; louit mot God be,
For now I haue aneuch plentie!
My fader is of Archade, suithly,
Emynedus sister sone am I,
Now seik I him in seir countre.”
The duke said, “louit mot God be!
I am thy eme, fair, deir cousine;
Thow art my deir sib-man and I thine.
In Alexanderis court throw me
Thow sall menskit and honourit be.”
With that, he can him fast imbrais,
And kissit him, armit as he was.

“A! dere God,” sais Pyrrus, “quhat I
Am of this meting richt happy!
My hart is full of Iolite.
Now think I, sweit eme, to be
Honourit, throw ȝow, with great and small,
And for my awin deidis with all.”
Emynedus sayis, “my neuoy deir,
Se that thow hald the by me heir!
This is the perrillous battale
That euer I saw in my trauell,
And thow, my sone, be set fra me.”
“Schir,” said the child, “or it sa be,
My sword sall be of blude all rede,
And I woundit neir to the deid.”

Pyrrvs, that lord is of Mountflour,
Richt douchty and of great valour,
He was weill taucht in deid and saw;
Quhair he ane wickit man couth knaw,
He luiffit him nocht, na wald him heir,
His laittis na his lessons leir.
His ensigne was of great renoun,
And sair dred with his fais felloun.
His worship set thame in affray,
Bot he went all to sone away,
For he wald euer, at hard melle,
At stryking with the formaist be.
He straucht his steid, that stithly ran,
And in the preis he plungit than,
And deidlyke dintis about him gaue.
His eme prayit God sould him saue

Fra dede, myschif and fra presone.
I will record ȝow his fassoun,
Of all schaip was he richt wele maid,
With armys large and schoulderis braid,
Fare schankis, leggis and feit
Weil maid, all to his body meit.
His berd to spring of new began;
Him semyt weill to be ane man.
Certis to say of his bounte,
Thare micht nane farar fundin be.
A! dere God, how his helm of steill
And his hawbrek sat him! how weill!
His spere was schairp and weill scherand.
Quha met with him, I tak on hand
Thay haue of him sic ane menȝeing
Thai sall neid, I wis, of leching!

Pirrvs sat on ane nobill steid,
And he richt douchty was in deid;
He lukit fast to his armyng,
And thairof had he grete plesing.
His steid he straucht, and straik ane knycht,
Schir Gastinall to name he hecht.
Throw baith scheild and habirgeoun
He plat his spere in his pensoun,
And duschit him dede doun in that place,
Sa sone that he said neuer “allace!”
Pirrus his stalwart spere hes tynt,
Bot swith in hand his sword he hynt,
That forgit was and formyt weill
Of ane broun, vnbrekand steill.
The sword was gude and of grete pryse,
And it had lord at all deuyse.
At this poynt thinkis he, gif he may,

Sum of his vertew to assay.
With that, he socht furth in the thrang,
And sic dyntis about him dang
That he passit by sik thretty
That nane was na he gart him ly.
Pyrrus thus steirit him in this stour;
Thair was he haldin of great valour;
That tyme was nane of his ȝouthheid
Of sa grit worship and manheid,
And farar was nane sikkerly.
A! deir God, how he was douchty!
He gyrd throw renk with sword in hand,
Thame of Gaderis fast febiland,
And comfortand sa grittumly
The folk that war of his party.

Emynedvs him saw and vox blyth,
And said to Licanor all suyth,
“Se my neuoy, how he stonayis
Ȝon Gaderanes that he assayis!
Quha ȝarnis ane knicht of great bounte,
Sall he find nane better than he.”
With that, the gude Emynedon
Embraisit sadly his blason.
His suord was drawin in his hand,
Agane his dynt had nocht warrand.
And Pyrrus cryit, “now gais heir ga!
He that heir cumis, I vnderta,
With ane sweit medicyne sall now
Mak quyte of that that greuis ȝow.
His straikis ar nocht of ane prentis,
Bot of the best that leuand is
In warld, saiffand the King allane.

He sall ȝit, or this day be gane,
Brew ȝow sik drink, I tak on hand,
That ȝe drank nane sa poysonand!”

Emynedvs his cours maid weill,
That fele of Gaderis may feill
His sword schare in thair nakit hyde.
Pyrrus was ay neir him besyde.
Thir tua, with all thair cumpany,
Socht on thair fais sa sturdely,
Quhill to thair baneris thay thame dang,
Thair had thay thirlit weill the thrang,
Quhan that gude Gaudifere de Larys,
With tua thousand knichtis of prys,
Saw ische out of ane craig, thame by.
He wist and knew aluterly
That thay of Grece wald wele thame weir;
Thairfoir, with tyme and at laseir,
He dicht him in his apparell,
And ordaned him for battell.
His men he gart als weill array,
For at his micht he wald assay
To skaill them sua in his cuming
That thair sould be na recouering.
In his battellis than micht be sene
Baneris and pennomis shynand shene;
Trumpettis and taburnes gaylie blaw.
Quhan that the folk of Grece thame saw,
In hy all fleing reillit thay,
And to ane strenth hes tane the way,
To saue thair lyues quhil thay mocht.
Is nane of thame, I trow, had thocht
Of gamin or play or ȝit solace,

For the mischeif sa mekill was.

This gude Gaudefeir de Laris,
That was of sa hie souerane pris
That, in all the land of Afrike,
Of worship was thair nane him lyke,
Na nane sa grit of hie valour,
For to mentene ane staluart stour
Na haldis his fais in sic danger,
Na helpis his freindis that had mister,
Na, quhan his fais left the place,
Sa strenthily couth demane ane chace.
He could fle fairly, but affray,
Quhan neid him strenȝeit to hald his way;
And quhan that he his point culd sie,
Recouer couth he weill his bountie,
And mak mony ane fair turning.
His teching and his fair hauing,
His vertew and his countenance,
Wald to ane gude man mak plesance.
His worship will I rehers heir:
He was vpon full great maneir
Cumly of corps and assemble;
His body weill adornit he;
Richt large, weill luiffit and courtais,
The gude auansit he alwayis,
And fellon deid and word all way
He preissit to scaill and put away.
With ane thousand knichtis of pris,
To help his lord, duke Betis,
He come from Gadderis in ane lyng;
The rergard was in his leding.
Quhan he the rinkis saw shudder sua

And the battellis togiddir ga,
And hard the grete noyis and the cry
Of woundit men sa soroufully,
He sat vpon the nobillest steid
That ony lord mycht haif at neid,
With spurris he straik him sturdely,
And he lansit deliuerly
Into the thikkest of the preis,
Quhar he saw maist of melle was.
He plungit in the feild before
And smot the gude erll Sabolore,
That he all peirssit his blassoun,
And thirllit als his habirgeoun,
And bet him dede doun in the grene,
And smot him throw the body clene;
And efter sone sic vther thre
Throw his worschip to erd laid he
That the worst was of grete valour
For to manteme ane stalwart stour.

Pirrvs hes sene how Gaudifere
Sa stoutly can his fais dere,
How he erll Sabalour hes slane,
And vthir als of mekill mane,
That the worst was richt douchty
And praissit of hie chewalry.
With spurris tit straik he the steid,
And he come lansand wale gude speid.
Gaudifere had thare ane cousine,
Armit in armouris gude and fyne;
Pirrus him smot with all his maucht,
And sa rude ane rout hes him raucht
That scheld and habirgeoun of steill

At that point valȝeit neuer a deill,
Bot he him throw the body bare,
And feld him stane-deid richt thair;
And he all clois passit far by.
Emynedus than said thame in hy,
“Lansand, he leris thame of his play;
I trow that ȝow, this mony ane day,
Iustit nocht with ane better knycht,
Na with sa hardy, na with sa wicht!”

Of the erll Sabolouris dede
The Grecians war sa will of rede
That sum of thame sa sair can grete
That thare auantallis worthit weit,
And sum for propir radnes quoik;
Sic basing in thare hartis thai tuik,
Quhen thai saw [sa] feill bricht armyng
Agane the sone shirly schyning,
And saw thair fais grete stoutnes.
Bot thare price and thare worthynes
Gart thame endure trauale and pane
To put thair fais strength agane.
And Gaudifere for dule and ire
Brint within as ony fyre
For his gentil neuois dede,
That he saw slane ly in that steid.
In grete will vengeance for to tak,
Ane schot on Pirrus can he mak,
With swerd into his hand all bare,
That heuy was and scharply schare;
And hit him on the helm of steill,
And all to-claif it ilka deill,
And all the hede richt to the chyn;

He fell doun deid, na lyfe was in.
The folk of Grece, that worthy ware,
Sall helpit be of him na mare,
For Gaudifere maid change that day
Of neuoy and neuoy, per my fay,
Bot, and Emynedus the wicht
May sie his poynt, forsuth, I hicht,
He thinkis that he sall him quyte,
As for sic seruice, sic merite;
And thay of Gaderis sall wit, perfay,
As I trow, at his first assay,
Sall baldly on thare bodeis feill
That he luffit his neuoy weill!

Emynedvs saw his neuoy de,
That he thocht to advance sa hie,
For vpon his auancement
He thocht to set all his intent.
His wourschip thocht him gude to se;
Leuer him in ane stour had he,
Be far, than ony that was on lyfe,
For he was to him richt tentyfe;
To serue his eme, all at his will,
He set all his intent thairtill.
He was lyke him in all gudness;
Of will and strenth, forsuith, he was
His cousing, and of grete bounte,
For he wald tyne the lyfe or he
Wald fra the fecht part felly.
Quha-sa had sene him sturdely
Stonay in that stalwart stour
His fais throw his grete valour,
Vpone the best knycht he mycht mene

That at the sege of Tyre was sene,
Out-tane the King allanerly
And his gude eme, quhome to that I
Dar compare nane in na degre;
Now is he deid, that is pitie!
Emynedus him menit sua,
And grat, and maid sa mekill wa,
That all that euer stude him by
Wenit he sould die thair suddanly.

Efter the mekill dule and wa,
Comfort begouth he for to ta,
Quhan he sawe that his menȝe was
Scaillit, and bounit to leif the place;
Than in stirroppis sturdelly
He streinȝeit him, and in grit hy
He rushit in amang his fais,
And sa great payment to thame mais
That nane micht thole his sword of steill,
Thocht he inbushit him neuer sa weill
Vnder his sheild, and hid him sua
That he na the grittest bleid wald ma
Full depe for to ishe full sone,
Or ellis thair harnes for to crone;
Thay could nocht helpe thame quhair he raid,
Bot thole, or ellis roume him maid.
Emynedus saw his menȝe
Richt worthily, throw thair great bounte,
For the hie, douchty Kingis saik
Put thame in euentur for to tak;
Thay did sa that na mischeif,
Na pane, trauell, perell, nor greif,
Micht stoneis thair hartis, na affray.

And stoutly he thame comfort ay
Richt with the scharpest of the brand;
Agane his dint had nocht warand,
And Ferrand richt sturdely him bare.
Ane riche duke that he met richt thare
He keruit with his sword in tua,
Quhill the tane half to erd can ga
And in the sadill left the laif;
And, with the grete dynt that he gaif,
The sword brak in the hiltis in tua,
Bot Betys folk, I vnderta,
Thai war ruschit, with that, on bak.
Quhen he saw that his suord sa brak,
Fra ane of thame he reft ane spere,
(He was richt help-lyke into were)
I trow in blude wyte sone sall be.
He thinkis, throw his grete bounte,
That the proudest of thame sall by
Pyrrus dede, that was wourthy.
The dukis stewart met he thair,
That at tua pointis, ane lytill are,
Had greuit gretly his menȝe;
He held great landis in to fee.
Emynedus in the scheild him straik
Quhill all in schunders he couth it schaik;
Throw scheild, hawbrek and all his gere
He preissit sa rudely with his spere
That fyue fute of the spere and mare
He butlingis throw his body bare,
And doun dede thair-with duschit he.
The duke Betys and his menȝe
Ar ruschit on thame with ane schout.

Thocht thay of Grece war styth and stout,
Thair fais on thame the feild hes tane,
As, sickerly, ferly was nane;
The myscheif thair sa mekill was
That thame behuffit to leif the plais,
And sped thame to ane strenth in hy.
Thare had thai bene alluterly
Vincust, na war Emynedon,
That stoutly can him habandon,
With spere in hand, to all his fais;
And thame behynd sic melle mais,
And gaif sic dintis withoutin leis,
At the formest chace can seis.

Than “Massidone!” he cryit thrys.
Grecians that war gretly to prys,
Quhen thay the Kingis senȝe hard cry,
Sic hardement thai hint in hy
That thai ilkane turnit agane,
Semblit in ane sop as men of mane.
Quhen thai of Grece recouerit the place,
The fecht richt fell and noious was,
And, efter, the myscheif was heuy,
And richt cruell to athir party.
Bot King Alexanderis menȝe,
Varneist all of grete bounte,
Thocht thai war few, thai bare thame weil,
Strikand grete strakis with swordis of steill.
For thay wald leuer, or thai wald fle,
Put thame in euenture for to de.
Thairfoir thair lyffis sauld thai deir,
For thai wist weill foroutin weir
That the maist of thair comfort lay

To stryke great straikis at hard assay.

Vith that, ane battell of Nuby,
Seuin thousand in ane cumpany,
That shot with arrowis barblit bare,
Of syde come shutand on thame thair.
Thair shot was great and greauit thame sare,
Sa that full few vnwoundit ware;
And quhan Emynedus the wicht
Saw how [his] fers into the ficht
War skalit with thair shot of far,
He thocht for to assailȝe nar.
Than “Massidone!” he cryit in hy.
Thairwith his feiris haistelly
Assemblit in ane sop him till;
To venge thame than thay had gude will.
The sone-shyne cleir on armouris bricht,
Quhill all the land lemit on licht,
And Alexanderis baner braid
Quhairin his awin figure was maid,
And his ensigne that thay hard cry,
Sa comfort all that cumpany
That thay thocht vengeange for to taik,
And na perrell nor pane forsaik.

The Kingis folk, as I said air,
Febillit with shot richt felly wair.
Foroutin wound I trow was nane;
The blude that fra thame ran gude wane
Euill hewit and pale in hy thame maid,
For the Turkis with arrowis braid
Schott thikker weill than hale or snaw;
And quhan Emynedus that saw,
With all thame of his cumpany

He shot on thame full suddanly,
That to the ground full mony ȝeid,
All bathit into braine and blude,
That all the feildis strowit war.
Sa smartly thair thay can thame skar
That the fecht halely warpit thay,
And thay that micht fle fled away.

Thvs as the furriouris ware
With shot of arrowis woundit sare,
Quhan gude Emynedus de Archade,
That gouernit thame wysely in that raid,
Had rushit and put abak halely
Throw his grit wit and cheualrie
Tha Turkis, throw his great bounte,
Sa saw he out of ane valie
Ane great battell ishe neir him by,
That was of the land of Nuby.
Thay micht be numbred vij. thousand,
Armit, on hors, baith fute and hand.
Dartis and staffis heidit with steill
Thay bair, and couth shute thame richt weill.
Thair micht na armour thame withstand,
Quhair thay come of ane stalwart hand.
Thay war ane sturdie companie
As of thair maner, sikkerlie.
Salarine led thame in that were,
That ȝoung was and of great effere.
He was sa full of succudry
That he prysit na man ane penny,
Aganis him corps for corps, for he
Trowit he past all vther in bounte.
By the Red See his Lordship lay,

That was richt large, as I hard say.
This Salarine and his company
Socht thame of Grece so fellonly,
With dartis that richt sharpely share,
That fele of thame sair woundit ware.
Thair war thay set in sic ane thrang
That thay micht nocht it suffer lang.
Of succour and help great neid had thay;
Thair war thay set in sic affray
That thay had ilk ane tane the flicht,
Na war Emynedus the wicht,
That ay behind baid sturdely,
And, throw fors of his cheualry,
He stinting of his fais maid,
And helpit his that mister had.
And quhan he “Massidone!” wald cry,
The best to him wald ay rely,
And helpe him weill with all thair micht;
Bot thay war all to few to ficht
Agane sa fele, bot nocht-for-thy
Thay did their deuour douchtelly.

Befoir his feiris raid Salaryne,
Armit in armour gude and fyne,
All couerit in fyne sandale.
Full sturdely start he out of stale,
And smot ane Gretian with ane speir,
And throw the body can him beir,
Quhill deid doun to the eard he ȝeid.
Bot he thairof gat sone his meid,
For Lycanor hit him, I hicht,
With his brand, was burneist bricht,
Weill heich vpon the helm of steill,

That was of gold inamalit weill,
That he baith blude and harnes shed.
Sa hard ane pais thair he thame led
That he fell deid doun dissaly;
And Phylot, that was neir him by,
Regratit his cousine that he slew,
And suld him venge, gif he war trew.

Lycanor and Philot alsua,
Thay wonder worthie brether tua,
All armit weill in ane cullour,
Come prickand straitly in the stour.
Alexander regratit thay,
And said thay had great nede that day
Of Dauclene and of Tholomere,
That wist na wayis how thay were
Demanit in that felloun fecht.
Lycanor stoutly straik ane knicht,
That baith his helme and his heuit
Richt by the shoulderis away he reuit.
Guy Marmaduke of Affrike,
Ane Lord of Spanȝe, nane him like,
Come with ane thousand in leding.
He was ane Lord of great halding;
And met Philot sa sturdelly.
With that, his hors was sa weary
That hors and he to erd doun ȝeid;
Vpon his leg sa lay the steid
That he on na wayis micht vpryse.
Than thay that war his enemeis
Assemblit on him ane great menȝe.
He was in point to perished be,
The ensigne of Massidone couth he cry,

That of his feiris hard mony.
He may weill tyne in hy, but he
With succour sone reskewit be.

Qvhan thay of Grece sa hard him cry
The Kingis ensigne, that was worthy,
Agane thay prikkit in that stour
To help Philot and to succour.
With the formaist came Perdicas
And Lyoun, that sa worthie was,
His brother Lycanor alsua;
The gude Emynedus came with tha.
Than micht thay se that had bene by
The knichtis of Grece full sturdely
Assemblit with their fais thair,
Strykand great straikis with brandis bair.
Thair was to-hewin mony hede,
Or Philote rais out of that stede,
And mony knychtis fell vnderfeit,
That had na power to ryse ȝit.
Bot, allace, it was mekill sin
That thay of Grece war maid sa thin;
Thay rushit thair fais sa sturdelly,
Bot, thocht thay few war, nocht-for-thy
Thay gart thame remufe furth of that plais;
And quhan thair fais saw that thair was
Sa great helpe in sa few, that micht
Counter thame in the felloun ficht,
Thay had thairat sa great dispyte
That thay prysit nocht worth ane myte
Thair strenth nor ȝit thair cheualry,
Bot thay thame counterit sa in hy
That thay thair heades tyne ilkane.

Than wraithly on thame ar thay gane,
And mony ruid rummill thay gaif;
The wakar sone the war can haif.
The Grecianis micht nocht suffer lang
That preis, na that vntholfull thrang,
Bot die thame worthit, knaif and knicht,
Or at that time eschew the ficht.

The folk of Grece assemblit are
To help Philot with brandis bare;
Thair geuin was mony sturdy straik.
Emynedus ane great shot can make
Far by his feiris euerilkane,
And thairwithall he met with ane,
The Admarall of Eskaloun;
Baith helme and heid, without ransoun,
Richt by the shoulder away he share,
And left him lyand dede richt thair.
Thay menit him and his bountie,
As sik ane Lord sould menit be.
In the mene tyme Phylot throw fors
Was reskewit and set on hors,
That thinkis to venge his harmis in hy;
I trow, or euin sum sall it by.

Emynedvs his steid thair straucht,
And, as ane man of mekill maucht,
He plungit in the stalwart stour;
And as ane Falcoun of hie attour
Straik Stirlingis, sa skaillit he
Throw his great strenth and his bounte
The strenth of the Gaderanis, quhair thay
War semblit on thair best array.
Thay war abaissit quhair he raid,

And richt grete roume thay to him maid.
Sa fell it, as he come agane
Fra ane Gaderaine that he had slane,
That ane Arraby with ane dart,
As Emynedus raid him frauart,
Gyrd quyte throw his body out,
Bot he, that staluart was and stout,
Arraissit it out of his body sone,
And syne withoutin langer hone
He socht him sa that it him gaif,
The heid vnto the schoulderis claif,
Syne of his coit ane lap he schare,
And band his felloun wound sa sare
To stanche the blude that fast out ran,
For of his feiris he dred him than,
For drede thai sould discumfit be;
Bot, had thai wittin in certante
How that it stude than with him thare,
Thai suld think on defence na mair,
Bot, but comfort, abide thair deid,
For, and he faill, thair war na rede.

Thay of Gaderis knew nocht the case,
How gude Emynedus woundit was
Throw out the body quyte and clene;
Bot duke Betys the straik hes sene
And, for he saw him douchtely
Reskew full oft his company
And skaith him throw his great bounte,
Richt blyth in hart thairof was he,
And towart him he straik his steid.
Emynedus the gude at neid
Sat on Ferrand that weill him bare,

His sword in hand that scharply schare,
That he wald nocht haue geuin, that day,
For mare gold than I can ȝow say.
He raid ane lytill tyme vnder ane hill;
Betys com doun the bank him till;
Thair haif thai maid sic ane meting
That athir may prys small his winning.
Arthour, na Gawane of Britane,
Na ȝit Rolland, na Charlis the mane,
Gaif neuer sa grete dintis, I hecht,
As did Emynedus the wicht,
For, thocht that Betys helm of steill
Was gude and sicker, wit ȝe weill
He all to-fruschit it with that dint,
That stonyit Betys quhill he tint
His sterapis and to the erd he ȝeid;
His lenth he mesurit in the meid;
At neis and mouth the blude out brast,
And at his eris, sa farly fast
That all was baithit in to blude.
It was Emynedus the gude,
That weill couth stanche ane doggit pryde,
That sa met with him at that tyde.
To stanch his woundis, that fast couth bleid,
Of leich I trow he sall haif neid.
For to reskew the duke Betys,
His men come prekand, that wourthy was.
Thre buschmentis in full great hy
Come to the stour full sturdely,
That in the last was thre thousand,
With sword and spere or dart in hand,
That in thair cumming full rudely

Stonyit the Kingis company,
And ruschit thame ane weill gude way;
Of succour mekill neid had thay.
Emynedus mekill debait can ma
To tak the duke, or than to sla;
And, to ane turning that he couth mak,
The renȝe of his brydill brak,
And Ferrand thair-with held his way,
Sa suyft that ferly was to say,
Quhill, at ane hill, with mekill pane
He restrenȝeit his steid agane.
He knyt his renȝe in great hy
And syne lap on deliuerly.
I trow nane sall him find that day
Sa far out of the hard assay.

To succour duke Betys, his men
Stoutly to him assemblit than.
On hors thai set him haistaly,
That for the dynt was richt desy.
The maist preuit of his barnye,
In full grete ire, in hy callit he.
[Him] to reuange great will he had,
And fast inducit he thame, and bad;
And thai that war in will to do
His will, assentit sone thair-to.
Emynedus hes knyt his renȝe,
And in his sterapis can him strenȝe.
As falcone that wald haue fude ful fain
Come lansand to the lure agane,
Sa come the douchty duke to the fecht.
His fallouis fand he than, I hecht,
Sa skalit and sa straitly stad

That sum of thame all planely fled.
He menit thame with greting than,
Quhill teiris ouer his cheikis ran.
He cryit than, with mekill mane,
“Now, gentill Lordis, turne agane,
And serue ȝour soldis of the King,
That geuis sa mony ryall thing
To vs, and that sa largely!
He had set euill and wickedly
His meat, his drink and his clething,
His gilt coupes, with the couering
And other riches in mony wyse
That he hes geuin to us fele syse,
And our worship and our bounte
Heir for his saik sould shawin be.
And thocht our fais hes fast vs socht,
Me think forsuith that we sould nocht
Dreid thame, for thair best battellis are
Skaillit and broken heir and thair.
The laif ar nocht to dreid greatly.
Keip ȝour honour, lordis, for-thy!”
With that, thay all assemblit ar
To him, and thay that fleand war.

Qvhan duke Betys saw the stoutnes
Of thame of Grece and the gudnes,
That neuer sa qvhein war of sik micht
To helpe thame-selfis into ane ficht,
He swore hiely be his Goddis then
That, gif all Alexanderis men
War of sic micht and sic bounte,
That nouther castell nor ȝit cittie,
Na dukrie, na ȝit vther land,

Na strenth of men micht thame ganestand.
For he sawe neuer in all his tyde,
Him thocht, men of sa mekill pryde,
Bot nocht-for-thy he said and suair,
Bot gif that he remouit thame thair,
He pryssit him nocht worth ane penny.
On thame he prikit than in hy,
And smot shir Licanor sa fast
That baith his sheild and haubrek brast;
And bair him throw the body out.
Bot Lycanor that was styth and stout,
With his brand that was bitter of bit,
Duke Betys on the helme he hit
Sa great ane rout, he gart him ly
Vpon the arsoun dissaly.
Als woundit [as] he was, perfay,
He had tane vengeance weill that day,
Na war that Gaderanis in ane ling
Come to thair lordis recouering,
That war ane thousand and weil mair.
Caulus to erd was borne doun thair,
And dyueris deid, quhairat the King
Maid efter for thame great murning;
And than Gaderanes the folk of Grece
Rushit abak ane waill gude space.
Was nane sa hardy of that rout
That he na than to die had dout.
The duke Betis forȝet him nocht
To greue the Grecians that he mocht,
Or anis he thinkis thame for to leid,
Or outher sall thay all be deid,
Or ellis ly in his presoun.

Sary was than Emynedoun
Quhen he saw how his feris war
Scalit and soupit heir and thair;
He menit thair perplexite,
And suith his scheild than braissit he,
Far was to seik ane better knycht.
His steid he straik with spurris brycht,
And plungit in the preis agane;
And with sic vertew and sic mane
He smot the douchty Gaudifere,
Throw scheild, haubrek and all his gere,
That all the pensale of his spere
He butlingis in his body can bere.
I trow straitly, [thai] that thare play
But skaith sall nocht be left that day,

The folk of Grece ourset the stour,
And to ane strenth, to get succour,
Thame thai with-drew in full grete hy;
To say suth, some fled vtterly.
Bot sickerly Emynedoun
Ay behind can him abandoun,
Defendand his that had mister.
Ane grete rude spere and schairp to schere
He had recouerit in his hand;
Agane his dynt had nane warand.
Gaudifere com than in ane lyng,
And waindit nocht for his wounding,
Vpon ane nobill bay prekand.
Emynedus straucht to him Ferrand.
Tua better stedis, perfay,
I trow thair can na man say,
And the knychtis war sa wourthy

That thai the best war vterly
That leuand war in this warld braid.
Great hatrent ather at vther had;
Togidder thay smot quhill thair blasounis
Thay thirlit, bot thair habersounis
War sikker, stark and held richt weill.
Thair speiris war frushit euerilk deill.
With bodyis, shulderis and sheildis braid,
Sa outragious hurkling than thay maid
That thay that war by micht haue sene
Thir four ly flatlingis on the grene;
And sa stoneist at eard thay lay
That thay wist nather of nicht nor day.
Quhan thay of Grece hes sene thame fall,
But dout, great radnes had thay all.
Emynedus regratit thay,
For thay wist, and he war away,
That thay of deid had na warrand.
Than thay that sorrowfull wer fleand,
In full great hy turnit agane
For to reskew thair capitane.
Emynedus the gude at neid
Was first vp and syne asked his steid,
And thay him brocht to him in hy,
And he lap on richt haistely.
Than war thay glaid, I tak on hand,
Quhan that thay saw thay had warrand.

Gavdifeir horsit was alsua.
His woundis bled that did him wa,
Bot he thame band full straitly,
And hint ane speir full sturdely,
And swore hiely be all that was

He sould gar Gretians leif the place.
To thame the steid than strekit he,
And ane Gretian of great bounte
He smot sa stoutly that all dede
He fellit [him] flatlingis in that steid.
And quhan Emynedus that had sene,
He woxe thairat in spreit all tene
That Gaudifeir was sa cruell.
His gude steid steirit he out of staill,
And slew ane Gaderane with his speir.
Quha had bene thare micht haue sene neir
Ane richt great battell sikkerly.
King Alexanderis cumpany
Straik great straikis with brandis bair,
Bot thay war nocht euin bodin thair,
Thay of Gaderis war ten tymes ma,
Thairfoir on bak behuiffit thame ga.

The bargane, suthly for to say,
Was stoutly begunin without affray.
The folk of Grece into great thrang
War set, for thay sa on thame dang,
And preissit thame sa outragiously,
That to ane shaw, was neir thairby,
And maugre thairis, thay thame dang.
Thay micht na wayis indure it lang,
That hard assay, for thay war thair
Stonyit, and that richt wonder sair.
Emynedus, at that mischeif hes sene
And sone enbraissit his sheild sa shene,
Ane stith spere into hand had he;
Ane knicht of Gaderis of great bounte
He smot, till he his steropis tynt;

He fellit him deid doun with that dint.
With that, all haill his cumpany
Turnit agane full sturdely,
And thay of Gaderis weill thame met,
That mony ane straik was sadly set,
And mony ane haubrek thirlit was.
With deid and woundit all the place
Was strouit, that it was pitie
That mekill martirdome to sie.

Heir Arreste throw sare praying, Went to warne Alexander the King.

Throw out the preis Areste raid,
And grete melle about him maid,
And of his fais ane smot thair,
That he his leuer in shunder share,
Sa that his speir in shunder brast
And he fell deid doun, bledand fast.
Bot thre earlis of great bounte
Attanis shot on Arreste.
The tane him shot on the blasoun,
The tother tua on his habersoun,
And, thocht he stout was and hardy,
Vpone his arsoun thay gart him ly.
His hors sa chargit was with the straik
That neir ane douncome can he maik,
Bot, throw his fors, with mekill pane,
Thay baith recouerit sone agane.
With his sword that sharpe was of steill,
Arreste him defendit weill,
That the best all abaissit was.
He was woundit in sindry place.

The gude Emynedus can sie
How douchtelly that Arreste,
With suord of steill, as douchty knicht,
Stonyit his fais into the ficht.
He sawe him bathit all in blude,
That stremand fra his woundis ȝude.
Throwout the preis to him com he,
And said, “A! A! gude Arreste,
Thir folk hes set vs hard this day,
And ȝe haue fundin be assay;
In sindre place woundit ar ȝe,
All is bot blude that I can se.
Mene, gentill knicht, vpon ȝour hecht,
And se quhat way throw hard fecht
That all ȝour feiris demanit ar,
That sum ar deid, sum woundit sair,
And, duell the King, it may nocht fall
That ane eschaip quick, of vs all.
Thairfoir, shir, for ȝour great bounte,
Haif of thir folk reuth and pitie!
Ȝe beir sik takinnis that the King
Sall se that it is na lesing,
Na ȝe sall neuer blamit be.
Nane laser mair to carpe haue we.
Bot speid ȝow in all that ȝe may!”
Arreste said, “I sall, perfay,
For ȝow, and for the nobill King,
And for the point of perishing
I sie my fallowis halely,
This message perfurneis will I,
Gif God thairto will gif me grace,”
And with that word he left the place.

Hillis na valeyis sparit he nane,
The narrest way to the King hes tane.
His hors forbure he in na thing,
Bot prikkit ay into ane ling,
Richt to the Kingis pauillioun.
Be he haue shewit his ressoun,
The King and all his barnie
Sall of thir tydingis sory be.

The King, Dauclene and Tholomere
Fra ane great melly cummin were,
That thay forout the ȝet had maid;
Bot lytill winning thair thay had.
The King hes first sene Arreste.
Him semit weill ane man to be
That cummin was of ane felloun plais;
His gude sheild all to-frushit was,
His haubrek and his helme alsua,
And he bled fra the top to ta;
He was woundit in the body,
That wit ȝe weill, full cruelly,
And his hors hurt in sindrie place,
That couerit with blude and sweat all was.
The King knew it was Arreste,
“Quhence come ȝow, Arreste?” said he,
“Schir, fra the vale of Iosaphas,
Quhairin ȝour folk ane felloun cais
Is fallin thame, for the duke Betys,
With xxx thousand men of prys,
Hes us assailȝeit thus to-day,
And set ȝour folk in sic affray
That thay Sampsoun and Sabalor
Hes slane, and woundit Lycanor,

And Philot fellit and vther ma.
Bot it is pitie of tha tua,
And great dule to thair freindis ilkane,
For thay war nobill men of mane.
Succour thame sharpely, gentill King,
Or thay be all brocht to ending!
Speid ȝow, thairfoir, all that ȝe may,
For or my habersoun, perfay,
Or ony harnes, of me beis tane,
I sall wit how the gle is gane
With thame into that great melle!”
Than quod Dauclene, “sa God me se,
Be great ensinȝe it may be sene
That thow hes at the bargane bene!”
“It is suith!” said Tholomere.
Than menit thay on great manere
Perdicas, Caulus and Festoun;
And the gude duke Emynedoun
Than thay menit full tenderly;
For Sampsoun war thay all sory.
The King than smartly hes gart cry
That all sould fare delyuerly,
And on thair hors all hale lap thay;
And Arreste led thame on the way,
Towart the vale of Iosaphas.
Thair menȝe than sa stoutly was
At outragious mischeif fechtand
That thay withdrew thame to warrand
Ay quhan thair fais thame preissit sa
That thay na great fechting micht ma,
Bot alwayis gude Emynedoun
To all perrell can him bandoun,

His body and his nobill steid,
To help his feiris in that neid;
Delyuerit thame oft douchtely,
And comfort thame oft hardely,
To help quhan that he mister saw.
Bot thay behuffit thame withdraw
Quhen thai war preissit attour micht;
In this wise thai contenit the ficht
Ay quhill thai saw the nobill King
That sped him in thare succouring.
Richt weill him gydit Arreste,
And led him out throw ane vaillie
Sa that, or thay persauit war,
Thai to thare fais cummin ar.
Quha had ane scheild hale, may fall
That sone sall be to-fruschit all!

Qvhen thai of Grece hes sene the King
Cum sa stoutly in thare helping,
And saw thare succouris was sa neir,
Sa greatly than thai comfort war
That the worst of thare company
Strenȝeit in sterapis sturdely.
To reill thame ane horne thai blew,
And syne into ane sop thai drew.
Thare rout that tyme sa stonait was
That tane was hardy Perdicas,
Caulus and Lyonell alsua.
A point than peirtly can thai ma,
And sarely thare fais socht,
For thai wald venge thame gif thai mocht.
Betys beheld, and by ane hill
He saw than sturdely cum him till

Alexander and his barnie,
Him-self serryand his menȝe,
The baners in the front before,
That ay approched more and more.
Was nane of Gaderis than sa bald
That euer tuke tent presoner to hald.
“Lordingis,” he said, “now may ȝe se
Alexander, with his barnie,
Cummin is to succour his furriouris,
And thinkis the worst part sall be ouris.
Bot luke ȝe stout and hardy be
For to mentene this great melle,
That we of purpose gar him faill!”
With that, approchit the great battaill.

Qvhan the King come, without weir,
The furriouris hes full great mister,
For Lycanor, that was sa stout,
Was woundit throw the body out,
And the gude duke Emynedus
Woundit, and takin was Caulus,
And Sampsoun and Sabalor was slane;
Lyoun and Perdicas als was tane,
And the riche duke Arreste
Was sair woundit with speiris thre,
As heir befoir to ȝow said I,
And all thair hors was [sa] weary
That few micht of ane pais gang.
Had the gude king duelt ocht lang,
Of seuin hundreth knichtis, perfay,
Thair sould nocht ten haue gane away.
With that, assemblit halelie
Of Grece and Gaderis the cheualry.

Qvhan thay of Grece assemblit ware,
Ane fell fechting might men sie thair,
And armit men that war hardy
The bargane all to deir sal by.
The King with spurris smait Burssiuell,
And sturdely, befoir his battell
Sa hard he smot Caliot of Nuby
That top our taill he gart him ly,
Woundit throw-out the body quite,
His haubrek helpit him nocht ane myte.
Than “Massidone!” loud can he cry,
And drew his sword delyuerly,
And smot sa sturdelly Caleoun,
That to the breist he share him doun.
The duke Betys the King hes sene,
And shuke his heid for proper tene,
And said, “gif ȝon King leifis ocht lang,
He sall me set in mekill thrang!”
With that word, he and knichtis fyue
Rushit vpone the King belyue;
Four on the sheild him smot stoutly,
And tua on the helme full besily.
He held him-selfe vpone Bursiuell.
With that, dicht in thair apparell,
The gude Dauclene come and Tholomeir,
And mony douchty bachleir
Come to reskew the nobill King.
Thair men micht sie [ane] fell fechting,
And mony dintis baith geuin and tane,
And gude knichtis to ground be gane.
The Gretians faucht sa feill thare
That thay of Gaderis rushit ware,

And thame withdrew with great affray;
Bot at ane hill recouerit thay.

The duke, with mony gude Gaderane
At ane hill syde he turnit agane.
The best hindmaist ay abaid
To stint thair fais that formest raid.
The folk of Grece that formest ware,
Than with arrowis war woundit sair,
Sa that thay tint at that preking,
Sum hors, [and] sum weill darrar thing.
Than Dauclene, that was gude at neid,
Come prekand on ane staluart steid;
And sa straitly struke Arundale,
That of the dukes hoist all hale
Was constabill and cheif ledere,
That on him he brak his spere
And sa stoneist him with that strake
That in that stede he can him take,
And he taucht him thair to the King.
The King him gaif into keping
To tua barrounis of Grece richt thar,
That of great strenth and worship war.

At ane strenth thus turnis Betys,
With mony men of mekill pryse,
And thinkis to defend him sa
That he nouther skaith sall do nor sa.
Bot of his Constabill that was
Takin, in hart richt wa he was,
And thocht to get him sone agane;
Bot all that wening was in vane.
With that, he prekkit furth in the preis,
And couerit with his sheild he was;

His staluart speir he stithly straucht,
As man that was of mekill maucht.
Aganes him lansit Tholomeir,
Full sturdelly streikand his speir.
Thay smot togidder as tempest,
The dukes speir in shunder brast,
Bot Tholomeir hes hit him sua
That to the ground he gart him ga,
All desy of that heauy dint;
Syne by the renȝe he hes him hint,
And, efter, in mony seir countre,
That nobill steid with him had he.
The King was horsit on him that day
Quhilk Porrus slew, as I hard say.

The fecht was fell, and great the preis
Quhair the duke Betys fallin wes.
The Gretianis preissit him fast to ta,
Bot he defendit with sword sa
That he, throw great help of his men,
Was reskewit and helpit then;
Bot that was with full mekill pane,
For he had fele folk him agane.
Guy Marmaduke of Affrike
Said him, “certis this is weill like
That all the war sall ouris be!
I wald be naked in my countre
And all wer tint that heir haue I!
Alexander and his cumpany
Heir I forsaik for euermair!”
The duke, that was bauld as bair,
Said to him with ane wraith sembland,
“Thow art war nor recryand,

Na ȝe aucht neuer in court to be
Honorit, for the great mauite.”

Gavdifeir saw the nobill King
Preis his men throw hard fechting
To put duke Betys to the plane,
And, throw force of thare mekill mane,
To reif him the strenth of the hill,
Bot sickerly he hes na will
For dout of deid to leif the feild,
Quhill he him on his hors micht weild.
Before his feris he saw prekand
Dauclyne stoutly, with spere in hand,
And Gaudifere, that was witty,
Leit him sydlingis pas him by;
And quhen he saw his point that tyde,
He socht vpon him at ane syde.
He bare him doun with sa great micht
That he baith tint hearing and sicht,
At neis and mouth out dushit the blude.
The staluart steid that by him stude,
Be the gilt renȝe hint Gaudifeir,
Bot he kest nocht away his speir;
The renȝe on his arme can sleif,
Syne went agane withouttin leif.
He was not preissit than greatly,
For thay of Grece affrayitly
Arestit thame with siching sair.
Thay wenit Dauclene sould die richt thair.
Bot strenth come to him sone agane;
He lukit vp with mekill pane,
For he was of full great courage,
He wald na wise that the barnage

Of Grece for him annoyit ware.
On fute sone is he gottin thare,
And asked hors in full great hy,
For he said he had great inuy
To mete him that him fellit hade,
And thay him horsit but mair abade.

The duke hes sene the nobill King
Enforce him sa in the fechting
That he bair doun weill aucht or ma.
The thik preis he out thirlit sa
He met na knicht that he ouer-take,
Na he all desy can him make.

The gude duke callit his men preuie,
And said, “Lordingis, now may ȝe sie
That ȝon proud King wenes richt weill
To ding vs all to deid ilk deill.
He fairis as he war fule or wode,
Or ellis our succodrous in mode.
He slayis my men throw strenth of hand.
Thay may say I am euill warrand
To thame that he defoullis sua,
Bot I die with dule and wa,
Bot he stoutly contraryed be!
Micht we him rusche, ȝe suld sone se,
Abak a lytill, at the dys
Suld changit be on vther wys
For, fra ane child be ston[a]yit,
He sal be thairof sa mismayit
That all his gude deid sal be done,
For ȝoung pryde is stanshit sone.
I dout the furriouris far mair
Than all the laif that leuand air,

For thay of Grece ar haill the flour,
And maist prysit of hie honour,
And ȝon Emynedus thair ledar,
That is weill tempered in peax and war,
And sa gude knicht, as ȝe ma se—
Thocht we na wald, sa will it be—
He hes stonyit sic vii. thousand
That saw him neuer, I tak on hand.
He luifis me nocht, that wele I wait;
Bot I may tak him be na gait.
Thair is na knicht may be his peir.”
With that, the King and Tholomeir
War reddy for to do vassalage,
And Dauclene and the great barnage
Of Grece com prikkand in great hy,
And Betys met thame sturdely
In gude couen with his menȝe
To do worship throw thair bounte.
Agane the Sone thair sheildis shane,
Manance nor flyting was thair nane,
Bot with speiris and brand[i]s bair
Sa fast thay frushit ilkane thair
That fele war feld with rashes, ȝit
Men micht sie thair ly vnder-feit
Of dede and woundit grit plentie.
Quha had sene in that great melle
The heuy dintis to gif and taik,
Scheildis to frushe and shaftis to shaik,
And pryde stoutly counter pryde,
Men micht say suirly at that tyde
Thair was ane felloun fechting thair,
And ay enforsit mair and mair.

Emynedvs hes sene Betys,
With his gude men greatly to prys,
Sa hardely counter the King
And make him cruell ganestanding,
As he stude of thame lytill aw.
The enforce of Grece he saw
Geuand and takand mony rout,
The King befoir thame, that was stout,
Dauclene and Tholomeir him by.
Thar straik nane, wit ȝe witterly,
That he na agane can straikis ta.
Betys hes thame incounterit sa,
For he was douchty at deuyse,
And na semblance maid of cowardyse.
Sa fast ather on vther dang
That mony ane to eard can gang.
Emynedus than leuch blythly,
For that Betys sa manfully
Ressauit the King in his cumming.
Now man ȝe wit of thair trowing
Quhidder the furriouris that day
War oft set on hard assay,
Quhan thay agane the Kingis micht
Makis defence into the ficht,
And metis him sa hardelly.
Than to his feiris he said in hy,
“This day richt far ȝe trauellit are,
And ar weary and woundit sair,
Bot he tynes his mekill prys
That at the end dois fantys.
Quha dois best at the ending,
Thay haue pryse and maist louing.

Bot we contene vs manly,
As gude knichtis and hardy,
Befoir thame that ar freshly heir
Cummin now, wit ȝe but weir
All our gude sall turne to shame,
And, efter win, now sone at hame
Thay sall perchance ruse thame, and sa [OMITTED]
For ȝit, or all the gaming ga,
I sall thame mak sic ane shawing
That I am he to quhome the King
Hes geuin hallely his oist to leid.
My saull cum neuer in haly steid,
I sall set sum in hard affray!
It sall be sone sene at assay
Quhidder we or thay that cummin ar heir,
Now freshest flowand in thair geir,
Sall better demane the felloun ficht
And stint thair fais with strenth and micht.
Thay sall nocht scorne me, gif I may!
A! gude Ferrand, quhat will I say?
I haue assayit the oft-syse,
And I fand neuer in the fantyse,
For me now thow sall be in thra!”
With that, endlang his sydis tua,
With spurris he brocht him in hy,
And he lansit delyuerly.
I trow he sall sone do sum thing,
Bot gif the story mak gabbing,
That ane thousand sall haue invy
Richt at his douchty cheualry,
That duke Betys, at myne intent,
Sall nocht pryse greatly that present.

Felloun and stout was the fechting,
The noyis was great of speiris breking,
The King, Dauclene and Tholomere
In the fore-front fechtand were.
The folk of Grece that thair wes
Schawit stoutly thair douchtines,
Bot sikkerly, I dar weill say,
Was nane of thame that wald that day,
Haue sauld nor wedset his arming
For scarlot furrit with riche furring,
For thay of Gaderis fellounly faucht,
Na for the King and all his maucht
Thay dedenȝit nocht on bak to ga.
Thair men micht se thame vnderta
Stoutnes, and strenth encounterit pryde.
Thay faucht fast on ather syde,
Thair was na flyting, wit ȝe weill,
Bot with wapons staluart of steill,
Thay dang on vther with all thair micht,
That mony ane sheild that shynit bricht,
And mony ane helme, to-hewin ware,
And swordis oft brokin in shunder thare,
And at eird lay mony ane knicht,
That for to help thame had na micht,
And with hard dintis sheildis clouin,
And knichtis lyand in blude be dosin.

The furriouris out at ane syde
Togidder relyit was that tyde,
That had na mister, suth to say,
To gang to fechting mare that day;
Bot thay reprufe dred mair nor deid,
And he that had thame for to leid,

That was Emynedus the douchty,
Admoneist thame sa worthely,
And, thocht he had na armour hale,
Ȝit wald he as gude vassale
His hie worship stoutly assay;
Than to the fecht all prekit thay.
Emynedus than straucht his steid,
And he him bare wale gude speid;
He was forsuth greatly to pryse,
That ran than on sik ane wyse
Efter that he sa trauellit was.
He plungit in the thikkest preis,
And, richt befoir the nobill King,
He smot Betys in his cuming,
Sa that ȝe saw neuer [sic] ane strake,
And his sheild in sunders brake;
The mailȝeis of his habersoun
He persit, and his gude actoun.
Amang the rybbes of his syde,
The blude rushand he gart out glyde,
That ran doun stremand fra his wound.
He was sa stoutly laid to ground
That his helme stikkit in the grene.
King Alexander that straik hes sene
And leit Betys ly still alane.
Men sayis he micht him weill haue tane,
Bot he raid with great ȝarning
To mak Emynedus welcuming,
And said to him, lauchand, “the mete
Mot blissit be euin that thow eate,
For thow hes worship and bounte,
Winning with wit and with lautie!

Hard neuer man that maid melling
With lossingery and taill-telling.
Sen this day at the Sone rysing,
Thow hes contenit this fell fechting
Quhill now that nicht is cumin neir;
And is woundit in places seir.
Now micht thow stryke sa stout ane straik,
Is nane on lyfe, I vndertake,
Na he sould thairof haue ferly.
Quha hes the in his cumpany,
He aucht in hart Ioyfull to be,
For nane that leiffis, peir is to the!
God saue the and Ferrand alsua,
For weill assemblit ar ȝe tua!
I sould na will have to conqueir,
And thow war deid, na armes beir.”
With that, baith hunders and thousandis
War about Betys with burneist brandis,
And faucht felly, I vnderta,
Sum him to help, sum him to sla.
To nureis gude men and worthy
Men sould thame preis ay idantly,
For it is proffeit and honour;
And that was sene weill at that stour,
For thay of Gaderis with all thair micht
Abandoned thame into the ficht,
For to reskew thair lord Betys.
Thair men micht sie on many wys
Men fecht with force and with na threat,
And mony ane bathit in blude and sueat,
And mony ane fair body sone ly dead.
The Gaderanes faucht sa in that stead

That thay of Grece for na thing micht
Arest duke Betys into ficht.
Thay haue seruit landis but dreid,
For thair na radnes micht thame leid,
Na strenth of men, to fle the preis
Quhill thair lord at myscheif was.

Gavdifeir sorrowfull was and wa
That duke Betys was fallin sa.
With spurris he straik the steid of pryde,
On better hors micht na man ryde;
And Tholomeir raid him agane
Full michtely as man of mane.
Sik straikis thay gaue to thair blasounis
Thay thirlit all thair habersounis.
That cours had turnit to great skaith
To thame and to thair freindis baith,
Na war thair speiris in shunder brast.
With sheildis met thay sa fast
That sadill, renȝe, girth and patrall
At that grit bir war brokin all.
Thay fell baith flatlingis on the grene;
Sa hard ane cours was seindill sene.

Qvhair thir tua knichtis fallin ware,
The fecht vox ay mare and mare.
With sindrie waponis mony ane strake
Amang thame can thay giue and take,
And mony helme to-hewin was,
And knichtis fell deid in that place,
Heidis fra bodyis quyte and clene
War strukin, tumbland on the grene.
The Gaderanes, that war wicht in weir,
Wichtly reskewit thay Gaudifeir.

And hes him drawen out of the preis;
His gude stede als reskewit was,
And sadeled new, for his arsoun
Was brokin, as he was borne doun.
Dissy on hors thay haue him brocht,
For better him helpe couth thay nocht,
For he recouerit sone in hy,
That hard the straikes and the cry.
Courage him walknit and hardiment,
In steropis stith he him stent.
The folk of Grece I trow, perfay,
Sall find him for na freind that day.

On Tholomere, that ȝit lyand
At eard streikit baith fute and hand,
The folk of Grece arested are,
And him reskewit with fechting sare.
Vneis in him the lyfe thay fand,
Bot, sone as he can vnderstand
The noyis, the slauchter and the cry,
On fute he start delyuerly
And asked horsing, and the King
Him-selfe ane broun can to him bring,
And he lap on delyuerly,
Thinkand to venge him haistelly.
At that iusting tha knichtis tua
To-frushit war and stonyed sua
That men micht gang ane weill gude space
Or ony of them wist quhair he wes.
Bot first recouered Gaudifeir,
As ane knicht that was wicht in weir;
Richt to the maister renk he raid.

His bricht brand in his hand he had,
Thair-with he payit that he met,
And in hede harnis oft it bet.
Syne fra ane Greciane reft ane spere,
(He was help-lyke in great manere)
Ane knicht of Grece thair-with straik he,
Throw out the body quyte and fre,
And him deid fra the sadill draif.
Syne straik with straucht arme on the laif.
Quhen Tholomere hes sene him sua
Difoull his folk, he was full wa.
To venge him he had gude will.
The steid he steris than tit him till,
And Gaudifere the gude at neid
In hy to him he steris his steid.
Tholomere him sa stoutly straik
That he his harnes can all to schaik.
He wint weill to haif slane him thare,
Bot the speir was grete and square,
It micht nocht thole the staluart straik
That it nocht all to schounderis brak,
And Gaudifere sic ane rout him rocht
That soudainly to erd he socht.
The helm in erd it stikkit sua
That neir the nekbane ȝeid in tua.
The gude hors grippit Gaudifere,
Bot Daucline, that was wicht in weir,
Trauissit challange for to maik,
And with the staluart spere him straik,
That it to-fruschit with great pane,
Bot Gaudifere sat as man of mane,
That nouther arsoun na sterapis tynt,

Na ȝit remouit nocht for the dynt;
For Dauclyne, leit he nocht to lede
Throw out the preis the staluart steid.
He saw his lord, the duke Betys,
At erd amang his enemyis,
Wnder hors fute defoullit sa
That, ay [quhan] he on hand wald ta
To get on fute, thay that war by
Wald beir him doun deliuerly.
The gude Gaudifere hidder raid,
Throw strenth of his steid, but abaid.
He plungit in the thikkest preis
To help his lord that lyand was.
Mony ane straik there hes he tane,
Bot, maugre thairis of Grece ilkane,
On Tholomeris steid hes he
Horssit his lord throw his bounte.
War nocht the duke now doungin sa,
He hes ane hors, I vndirta,
Of grete bounte quhair-on he may
Richt weill his hardement assay.
Likit him than to leif the fecht,
Maugre his fais I trow he micht
His gait richt weill to Gaderis ga,
All-thocht thay chaissit him neuer sa.

Gavdifere weill delyuerit hes
His lord, that at great mischeif was,
And horssit him sa richly.
Bot he felt him sa fellonly
Hurt and to-frushit with the fall
That his body was to-stonyit all.
Than to his men in hy said he,

“Heir Is na bute langer to be.
Ilk man defend his auin heill!
The King is angry with to deill,
And syne the furriours ar
All knyt with him, baith les and mare,
That dedely haitis vs ilkane,
And thocht thay do, ferly is nane.
Bot ane thing suithly say I dar:
War nocht the furriouris, that ar
With thame aganis vs fechtand,
We suld nocht for the remanand
Be drawin to-day fra the battalle.”
Quod Gaudifere, “for-outin faill,
That is all certane that ȝe say,
For thay haue preuit weill to-day,
And ar assemblit for na mischeif.”
And, with that word, baith caucht thair leif,
Turnit thair brydillis and to-ga.
I trow that thair was sum of tha,
To sell thare spurris that tyme na wald.
Touart Gaderis thair way thay hald,
Bot, or thay all be cummin thare,
The sydis of sum may sowe full sair.

The duke held sorowfull his way,
For neuer his lif-tyme to that day
Was he chaissit out of ane stour,
Bot in all tyme the hie honour
Be left with him, as I hard tell,
All-thocht the fecht was neuer sa fell,
For enforcit richt wele was he
Of freindis and kyn of great bounte.
Now of his mischeif was he wa,

And he was woundit sair alsua.
Thocht he had Ire, was na ferly,
And Gaudifeir was mair sory
Than man that war with strenth and micht
Dampned, or disherist, aganes richt.
He maid na semblance ȝit for-thy
To be abaissit greatumly.
Behind his feiris he abade,
Ane staluart speir in hand he hade;
Enbrushed vnder his helme he wes,
Fulfilled of pryde and of stoutnes.
He met thame oft with hardy cheir
That come approchand to him neir.
His fellowis oft delyuerit he
Quhan that he saw thame chargit be;
Richt rudely brandist he his speir;
Oft-syse, wit ȝe weill, thay war
Strikken richt rudly that he met,
And he all haillely him set
For to defend all the flearis,
And for to stony the chaissaris;
Mony ane left he efter him deid.
He turnit oft his steidis heid
To thame that he saw neir chaissand,
To helpe his freindis and warrand.
Gif ony man sould louit be
For douchty dede, I trow that he
Sould prysit be, and that trewlie.
With that, Corneus in hy
Cryit, “vassale, turne the to me!
To greatly thow defoulles the,
That fleis and leiffis thy folke lyand!

Supprysit thow hes vs all neir-hand,
Bot thow art culit now ane party!
Thy pryde the failȝeis foullely,
That passis fleand fra the ficht!
Of that ilk sleif thow hes na richt
That I vpon thy helme se;
Scho set it euill that gaif it the!”

Gavdifeir him beheld wraithly,
And said sumdele dispittously,
“War I chargit with nane bot the,
Thy wordis sould thow sone lat be!
Bot nocht-for-thy, fall as it may,
The iusting sall thow haue, perfay,
Bot gif the failȝeing fall in the!”
With that, in hy to him turnit he,
And he, that wicht was and hardy,
Agane him come full sturdely,
For he was of richt great bounte.
Bot all to succodrous was he;
Had he nocht spokin so greatly,
In armes he had bene worthy.
Togidder thay smot, quhill thair blasounis
Thay thirlit, and thair habersounis.
Corneus on him brak his speir,
Bot sa hard smot him Gaudifeir
That his speir and his gunfioun
Was bludy to the hand all doun;
Baith leuer and lungis in shunder he share,
And dede doun to the erd him bare.
Than Gaudifeir said him in scorning,
“Thair lyis pryse in defoulling!
Men that ar wraith will nocht weill ta

In thank to be defoulit sa!
That hes thow feld in sum party!
Had thow nocht proud bene, sikkerly
Thow had bene of great vassalage,
Now mon thow keip heir this passage,
And quhan marcat or fair sal be,
To thame that may pertene to me
Luke thow with thame na bargane ma!
Gaudifeir de Laris, thy fa,
Hes heir acquentit him with the.
To-day my fleing sall not be
Lattit for the, I vnderta!
All quick to Gaderis sall I ga,
Bot gif that I vnhorsit be
With ane better all out na the!”

Now gangis gude Gaudifeir his way.
He hes him set in hard assay
For his gude Lordis saik, Betys.
The deid all out to villanes is.
He him defendit douchtely,
And oft he turned appartly,
Richt as it war ane baittit bair,
Quhan the houndis byte sould him sair,
Garres thame fle on far him fra.
With the chaisseris he did richt sa,
For sum he fellit and sum he slew,
And vther sum-deill thame withdrew;
And thay that efter him come chaissand,
Of felled folk thay fand lyand
The feild [all] spred; and than the King
That had thame all in gouerning,
Ane stalwart speir into his hand,

On Bursiuell come fast prekand,
And smot sa hard on Gaudifeir
That all to flenders brak his speir,
Bot he brist not his habersoun,
Na Gaudifeir tint na arsoun;
And quhan the King was passit by,
He smot ane knicht sa sturdely
That gruflingis to the ground he glaid,
And he furth on his wayis raid,
And oft quhan thay him preissit neir,
He turned with ane sturdy cheir,
And stintit mony ane sturdy pryde;
And thay that chaissit at that tyde,
That war hardy, of mekill mane,
He gart arrest thair hors agane.

Men knew it weill that Gaudifeir,
Be this that he was wicht in weir
And sat vpone ane nobill steid,
That nane micht better be in neid,
To Gaderis micht haue gane his way
Gif that he wald haue fled that day
As did his feiris in ane ling;
Bot he embraissit to great ane thing.
Bot as ane beist hir birth will driue
Fra the wolf that wald them riue,
His fellowis sa defendit he
He trowit, throw his great bounte,
For to be thair defence that day,
And sa he was, the suth to say;
For, war he outher tane or deid,
To help thame couth thay na remeid.
He turnit nocht his back to fle,

Bot that, quhen he was preissit to be,
He turnit stoutly his vissage,
For, sen the nobill vassalage
Of him that had sik renounie
War shewit in dede as in bountie,
Sa did he thair, without gabbing.
He maid mony ane fare turning,
And mony ane straik he sadly set;
Held nane on hors that euer he met,
For with the spere that sharpely share
Mony ane fey he fellit thare;
And syne vnto him-self said he,
“For nane, certis, that I heir sie,
All be he neuer of sic renoun,
Sall I neuer tyne sterop na arsoun,
Bot I sall quyte to Gaderis ga,
Maugre the chaissaris, thocht thay war ma,
Bot gif it happin me to faill
Throw him, is maist to drede of all.
His sheild of gold is fair and fyne,
With ane read Lyoun that is thairin,
And Ferrand is his nobill steid,
May na man better haue at neid.
This day thris, withoutin wein,
He hes me measured on the grein,
Lyand as into orisounis.
Nouther for prayers na sermounis.
Think I to mete [him], gif that I may,
He is our all in hard assay.
His straik thair may withstand nathing,
Brane, nor bane, na ȝit arming.
The King that hes him in menȝe

Aucht wele to hald him in dainte,
For throw him alanerly it is
That we the feild leif on this wys.”

In fair speche lyis oft winning,
And in dispyte oft distrubling.
Be the this Gaudifere, say I,
That into weir was sa wourthy,
And gude wertewis in him had he,
For large of hart he was and fre,
And thair-with sueit and debonare,
Of courtis speking and of fare,
For he luffit neuer na lossingere,
Bot prysit thame that wourthy were;
Neuer in speche for melancoly
Defoulet he gude man na wourthy.
Alexander the nobill King
Had hard all haill his carping,
How he to gude Emynedoun,
Our all, gaif wourship and renoun.
He praisit him in his hart greatly,
And prayit to God Intentifly
That he sould saif him fra cumring,
That day, fra deid and fra menȝeing,
For him thocht great syn and pitie
That sic ane suld encumerit be.
He thocht, and he him takin be,
And he wald serue him in laute,
That he sould weill mak company
Of gude Emynedus the douchty
And of him, and neuer in his lyfe
Conquere [the] valour of ane syue,
That thairof na thing baith he and he

Suld parsonalis and lordis be.
Forow thame all that chaissand weir.
The King follouit ane bow-dracht neir;
And Burssiuale richt fast him bair,
His feit he sparit na thing thair,
The erd dintit, he raid sa fast,
And fyre out of the flint[is] brast.
Gaudifere saw him cummand neir,
And be the scheild of Syper cleir,
Quhairin he saw an Egill stand
In-to the cantell of gold gletand,
He knew thairby it was the King;
And than, withoutin mare letting,
His hors to him he turnit in hy,
And, lauchand, said him courtesly,
“Ȝow nedis nocht sa fast to ryde,
For I sall ȝou richt heir abyde.
Gif that ȝow lykis to iust with me,
This land the dukis suld be all fre,
And I will challange it to-day.”
With that, withoutin mare delay,
Thai dressit thame for thair Iusting,
And on thair scheilds at thair meting
Thare speris all to schunder brast.
Thare hors war stark and hyit fast,
And thai war baith stout and hardy.
With thair bodyis, as thai raid by,
Thai hurkillit, and with scheildis, sa
That goldin buckillis brak in tua,
Helmis and mailȝeis to-fruschit ar;
And baith thair visage hurt richt thair,
Till throw the ventale ran the blude,

That stremand to thare sadillis ȝeid;
And Gaudifere him preissit sa
That he the King gart bakuart ga
Our the leyndis of Burssiuale.
Baith arsoun, girth and patrale
Brak in schunder, withoutin wene,
And he fell bakuart on the grene.
Than Gaudifere maid thair na baid,
Bot wallapand his wayis raid.
First to the King come Tholomere,
And Daucline als, that was his pere,
To help thair lord in full gude will.
His hors richt sone thay brocht him till,
And on his sadill thai him set,
And it that was to beit thai bet.
He askit, quhen he horssit was,
Ane speir, for ȝit wald he mare chais.
“Ȝe are stonyit,” said Tholomere,
“I se ȝow bleid on seir manere.
Now wait ȝe weill how Gaudifere
Can stoutly set ane straik with spere.
He is richt cruell and felloun.
And he war tane, suld na ransoun
Saif him na he suld hangit be,
Or els sum euill dede he sould de.
To saif his lyfe thair micht na wis
Honour na proffit to ȝow ris.”

The King beheld him irously,
And said, “sen thow hes sic inuy
To venge my harm, gif that thow will,

Thow may haue laisere sone thair-till!
And, nocht-for-thy, I dar weill say
Thow hes him nocht now to assay.
Of the broune that thow luffit sa
To erd bakuard he gart the ga,
Quhen the cantell of thi helm sa cleir
Stikkit in the erd on sic manere,
For thi nekbane was neir bristing!
And I may weill say but lesing
That thow to meit him hes na will.
Of sic speche micht thow weill be still,
For I knaw he is nane of thay
That mekill noyis and bost will may,
For he can weill begin ane stour,
And end it als, weill with honour,
And, Quhen he seis he hes mister,
Part thair-fra on fair maner,
And mak mony ane fare recouering;
Quhen he preissit is ony thing,
He lettis nocht, withoutin weir,
His fallowis chaissit be to neir,
Bot thame with speir or [brand] all bare,
Deliueris thame, quhen chaissit are.
Mony fare point, throw his bounte,
Fele syis that day recouerit hes he,
And our best men and maist of mane
He gart oft hald thair hors agane.
Is nane that dar him neir assay
Than flatlingis to the erd gang thay.
This day I saw him fell sic thre
That the worst wint, throw his bounte,

To tak him allane and to bynd.
Se how he bydis his feris behind,
Lord, how he delis at his lyking
Baith with his hors and his arming!
I saw neuer man, my lyftyme ere,
Sa cleynly daill with scheild and spere.
I prais far mair his fleyng
Than I do all our follouing.
The lord that hes him of menȝe
Richt Ioyful in hart may he be,
For ane worthiar knicht na he,
I trow thair may nane fundin be,
For he had leuer to be slane,
Or hangit, or with hors be drawin,
Than he for radnes suld do sic thing
That micht him turne to repreuing.”
Gavdifir hes this encountering
Set woundir weill, quhen he the King
Sa stoutly to the erd doun bare
That his best men abaissit ware.
The proudest that amang thame was
Had na great ȝarning him to chais;
And thay of Gaderis war richt blyth,
And Gaudifeir thair-to alsuyth
Ane houndreth heir assemblit ar,
That in armis richt wourthy war.
The furriours than saw thame reill,
That held thame ay in company weill,
With Emynedus thair ledere,
That he renounit bachilere.

Quhen he that had thame in leding
Had maid thame fair admonising
That at the ending thay suld weill do,
And thay assentit weill thair-to,
Ane poynt apertly than thay maid;
And Gaudifeir thame weill abaid.
Than men mycht se sic glew begin
That to the erd ȝeid mare and min.
Bot manassing, thay mony straik,
Great routis can thay gif and tak,
And sa lang war thay thair fechtand
That Gaderains had the wakar hand;
And quhen thai saw na better rede,
In full great hy thay left the steid;
Bot sexty of thair men of mane
At that assay thare left thay slane.
Strikand with spurris, thay fled in hy.
Thare mycht men se that had bene by
The chaissaris streik mony ane spere,
And mony ane hors that sweaty war,
And at the erd mony ane scheild
Weill vernist strouit in the feild.
Gavdifeir de Laris he was wa
When he his men saw chargit sa,
Bot he to do weill had sic will
That he na semblance maid of ill.
His spere was tint, bot he his brand
Had nakit drawin in his hand.
For to delyuer all his menȝe,
Sa great thing vndertane hes he

That all the warld suld ferly haue.
Before him all his folk he draif,
Richt as the husband driuis his fee,
To sell at markat or at Citie.
Thare mony fare turning he maid,
For to help his that mister had.
Thare it was sene richt weill that he
Had of his gilt scheild na pitie,
For he abandonit to thame sa
That the tane half was neir in tua,
And in the laif was thair truncheonis
Of speris, strekand weill thare pennonis.
Men sayis he had to Gaderis gane
Maugre the chaissaris euerilkane,
Na war Philot and Licanor
And Caulus, that come him before.
With speris on him thai straik al thre,
Quhill on his arsoune dintit he.
With the suord, throw his bounte,
Sa manfully him defendit he
That nane his hand straucht him to ta;
Maugre thame all, he went thame fra.

The gude Gaderanis that with him war
Micht nocht endure the stour na mair.
The fourriours that chaissit thame na,
All discumfit hes sene thame fla,
Quhill all thair hors wor sa wery,
For thay war trauelit gretumly,
Thay micht nocht hald thame fra chaissing,
Bot follouit thame efter in ane lyng.

100

Emynedus before thame raid,
Ane staluart spere in hand he had.
Sa fast Ferrand than gart he ga
That stanis and flagmontis flaw him fra.
He had our-tane gude Gaudifeir,
And he, that hard on sic maneir
Him sa stoutly follow his trais,
He lukit and knew weill quhat he was.
Syne sais, “it is gude thing, suthlie,
To nurris gude men and wourthy,
And he that negaitis do na will,
He sall repent him, as is skill.
This knicht allane durst tak on hand
For to assay thretty thousand.
Mony fair lordis sonnes to-day
He hes put to our hard assay,
That the motheris that thame bare
Sall haue lang tyme thare hartis sare.
Our mekill Ioy to-day hes he
Gart to our mekill dule turnit be.
I wait nocht quhat thairof may fall,
Na quhilk of vs that tyne sall,
Bot that our departing beis wa.
Bot me had leuer, how euer it ga,
To all perellis put my body
Than for radnes do velany.
Thare sall na kin dout me leid,
For I dout schame weill mare na deid.”

Gavdifeir was full douchty,
Of hie worship and cheualry,
And great courage of hart alsua;

101

And shame, that distrenȝeit sa,
His great skaith hes vndertane.
At Betys counsall tuik he nane,
For he wald hald it great foly
That ony ane manis body
Sould put him-selfe in sik bandoun
Agane the duke Emynedoun.
Bot he had nocht this counsall than,
Trauersit his hors as michty man;
He turnit nocht abasitly,
Bot, with speir straucht full sturdelly,
Enbushit vnderneth his sheild,
With helme embroshit, endlang the feild
He draue agane Emynedoun,
That come prikand in ane randoun
On Ferrand, that richt fast him bare.
To the iusting richt neir thay ware;
I trow thair sall na peace be maid,
Na ȝit plunging be na baid
Betuix thame, quhill the tane haue skaith.
Now at the semble ar thay baith.
Thay war baith stout and hardy,
And full of hie, great cheualry,
For ire, matelent and stoutnes
Summond thame to do proues.
Ather agane vther raid,
Bot na kin mannance was thair maid.
Gaudifeir come first richt stoutly.
Vpon his gilt helme, for drowrie,
Was put the sleif of ane lady,
The Kingis dochter of Nuby.

102

Emynedus in the sheild him straik
Quhill he in sheuers can it shaik,
He panit him with ane great micht,
Till of the sheild that shynit bricht
The brais and buklis brast in tua,
And bare it in the feild him fra;
Bot, nocht-for-thy, Eminedoun
Tint na sterop na arsoun,
Bot smot him with sa mekill micht
Vpone the birnie that was bricht,
Befoir the targe that he couth beir,
Neir in his hart he bare the speir;
And he fell with that deidly dint.
Emynedus the hors hes hint,
That was sa guid that nane micht be
Ane better steid in na cuntre.
Now may he weill mak cumpany
Of him and Ferrand, the lufly.

The King neir by the chais can mak
And sawe richt weill the staluart straik;
And towart him he come in hy,
And said, “shir, of this cheualry
I gif ȝow halely all the prys.
Thir folk throw ȝow discumfit is.
Thay micht nocht thole ȝour assailȝeing.
Aganes ȝour dint helpis na thing.
The man is deid, withouttin wene.”
And he lay strekit on the grene.
The knichtis of Grece grittumly,
[Menit] him and his cheif cheualry,
His worship and his great bounte.

103

Emynedus prayit ȝit that he suld be
Erdit, that his fare flesch na ware
Reuin with beistis, hede nor hare:
“Heir of his dede I haue pitie,
Bot he sa greatly chaissit me,
Quhen that he slew Pirrus the gude,
That he than mingit all my mude.
Ȝit me forthinkis that he is slane,
With all my mude and all my mane.”
The King weill hard him mak his mane,
And to him said, lauchand, on ane,
“It is suith exemplair thay say,
That wourthy hartis it makis ay.
I wait it, without lesing,
Sum vther wald nocht say sic thing.
He that sydis hes gart sow sair,
Ane sturdy straik he hes striken thair,
And sa sturdy, forsuith, it is,
This day was nane sic strikin, I wis.
Attour all sould he louit be,
That nane attendit to his bounte!”
Bot the great blude that he hes bled,
And the heit als, sa hard him led
That he suouned richt on his steid.
The King it sawe, and sair can dreid
That he sould die thair in that place.
Than menit he him, and said, “allace,
Gif that thow deis, gentill knicht,
The flour is done of all my micht.
I trow neuer mair ioyous sall I be
Into my hart, gif I tyne the,

104

Na I trow neuer to conqueir
Castell, citie, na land of weir!”
The Grecians menit him halely,
For all thay luffit him tenderly.
Sa great ane dule amang thame was
That thay haue left all haill the chais,
For thay wenit that the knicht of prys
Sould thare haue endit his gentrys;
And Betys raid sa spedely
That he to Gaderis come in hy,
Sory of his discomfiting,
And Alexander, the nobill King,
Efter his maister leich hes sent,
And he come sone at commandment,
That at his bidding boun was ay
To wirk his will baith nicht and day,
And tentit Emynedus and the wound,
And said richt sone he sould be sound.
Vpon ane cod punȝeid of cottoun,
Was thikker than ane actoun,
Thay laid Emynedus softly;
And Lycanor, his feir, him by.
In suouning Lycanor thidder brocht,
For Betys sic ane rout him rocht
That men micht weill his longis se.
The King gart our thame stentit be
His Pauilloun in full great hy,
And the leich trauelled bisselly
To haill thame tua that woundit were,
And said thay sould be haill and fere
Maid within ane lytill space.

105

The folk of Grece sa ioyfull was
Of this, that thay forȝet Sampsoun,
And of Mountflour alsua Pyrroun.
Than all thay ludgit thame, I hecht,
Quha had na tent, ane ludge hes dicht
Of branchis, that micht gottin be;
That nicht thay passit with lytill le.

Heir endis the first part of the buke of the most noble and vailȝeand Conquerour, Alexander the great. Callit the Forray of Gaderis.

VOLUME II.

107

2. Heir beginnis the secound part of this buik. Callit the avowis of Alexander.

In mery May, quhen medis springis
And foullis in the forestis singis
And nychtingalis thare notis neuis
And flouris spredis on seirkin hewes,
Blew and burnat, blak and bla,
Quhite and ȝallow, rede alsua,
Purpit, bloncat, pale and pers,
As kynd thame colouris geuis diuers,
And burgeons of thare brancheis bredis
And woddis winnis thare winfull wedis
And euer ilk Vy hes welth at waill,
Than ga I boundin all in baill
For ane, the lustyest that is wrocht,
That I haue luffit, all lyke hir nocht,
Na neuer gat thing of my will
Bot tene, ay sen I tuik hir till,
Sa that my trauell and my pane
I se weill all is set in vane.
For-thy I will set myne intent
To get lessing of my torment,
For to translait in inglis leid
Ane romains quhilk that I hard reid,
Of amourus, armis and of droury,
Of knicht-heid and of cheualry.
For wise men sais, he that in wit
Settis his intent and followis it,
It garris him oft-tymes leif foly
And all murning of musardy.

Qvhen Alexander, the King of prys,
Had discumfit the duke Betys

108

And Dedifeir, the fair citie,
Had wonnen, quhair Floridas the fre
Beleuit with him as of house
And Daurus did his wife to spouse,
Syne towart Ters he went in hy,
Gled in hart and richt ioly,
To se Candas, the fair of face,
That had him lukkin in luffis lace.
Ane Citie fand he in the way,
That Daurer hecht, as I hard say,
Fynly walled with mony tour.
Famiask aucht all that honour;
The King and all his cumpanie
Ressauit he weill and nobillie,
And of him tuke to hald his land
And maid him manrent with his hand.
Fyue dayis or sex he soiorned thare,
With gamin and play, and syne thay fare.
Fra Daurer now the King is cumin
And towart Ters he hes nommin.
That day thay raid richt to the nicht,
And all thay ludgit, King and knicht,
In pauillionis vpon ane Riuer;
The oist that nicht maid merie cheir.
On morne, quhan brichtin day had dicht
And Sone had spred his bemis bricht,
The King he rais and furth he gais,
All him allane, the air he tais.
The lift he saw baith fare and pure,
His oist he sawe baith stark and sture,
Quhare plentie war of nobill men.
The king louit his goddis then

109

That had him send sa great plente
Of honour and of dignite
That he desyred na mair honour
Bot Babilon, the maister tour,
The quhilk his ȝarning maist was in.
Allace! that was baith syte and sin,
For thair he deit, and that was pitie,
Bot vther wayis it micht not be.

The King beheld the grauis grene,
Ane auld man than hes he sene;
His beird, his browis, baith war hare,
Lang and lyart als thay ware;
In blak clething cled was he,
As was the maner of Chalde.
The King to him is went in hy,
And salust him full courtesly.
In Chalde language can he say,
“Gude man, quhether art thow went on way,
Or quhan thow come, for God lat heir!”
That ald ansuered with simpill cheir,
“Fra wildernes and ȝon valleis
To ane tempill of antiquiteis,
To Mars to make sacrifice
For my brother, the wicht and wise,
The quhilk was into Gaderis slane
Quhan thay of Grece with mude and mane
Sesit in Gaderis the nobill pray,
That mony ane brocht to decay:
That tinsall oft me turnes in tenis!”
“Quhat hecht thy brother that thow of menis?”
“Schir, Gaudifeir!” Than sichit the King,
And lang stude still but speking.

110

That ald beheld the nobill King,
And sawe him in ane studying.
Him thocht the dede of Gaudifeir
Anoyit him on great maneir.
Than to him said he, “shir, perfay,
At Gaderis endit hes that day
The best on ground that euer was borne,
Bot Alexander I tak beforne;
To him I mak na man compair,
King nor knicht na ȝit empeir;
And gif the King into bounte
Had ony peir, it micht be he.
For kynde had nurished him sa weill
Of all verteuis that man may feill,
For nocht was wantand in that wyse
That mycht put ony man to pryse;
For wise he was and debonare,
Hardy, kynd, courtes and fare,
To witnes dar I draw Venus,
Mars, Neptune and Mercurius.”
The King ansuered to that ald,
“Be all the Goddis thow hes tald,
I wald gif with my handis tua
Half that euer I wan him fra,
With-thy I war of sic ane pryse
As I haue hard of thy deuyse.
Of Gaudifeir thy brotheris deid
I am sorrowfull, sa God me reid!
Of Sampsoun and Pyrrus of Mounflour,
That war brocht vp of my nurtour!
[Leuer] had I thame all haill and feir,
About me ay to be me neir,

111

Than the iles of Chalcos and Melcheis,
Quhair Iason wan the goldin fleis!”

The gude man hard the King sa speik,
For tein his hart in shunder breik,
For him thocht weill, be his carping
And by his speche, that he was King.
He changit hew and wox all rede,
His ene war birnand in his hede.
The anger thrang his hart sa fast,
His vissage blaknit at the last.
And he had micht, his brotheris dede
Had bene reuengit in that stede.
The King him sawe, and knew him weill,
His matelent euerilk deill,
And, lauchand, said him courtesly,
“Gudeman, be all that God sall by,
Thy brotheris deid me lykit nocht,
Thocht Sampsoun and Pyrrus deir it bocht.
For thow resembillis ane man of wit,
At thy lyking I sall mend it.
Quhidder thow will haue land or fe,
Or succour of my men and me,
Thow may vs leid quhair ever thow gais,
To tak the vengeance on thy fais.”
The gudeman hard and sichit deip,
And with his ene sair coud he weip.
Than he fell and his fute can hint,
And wald haue kissit it or he stint.
The King warnit and vp him tuke,
And said, “gudeman, for Goddis buke,
Comfort the weill and tell me hale
Thy name, thy stait, thy blis, thy bale!

112

Gif ony man hes done the laith,
The or thyne, outher shame or skaith,
I sall gar mend it, be thow bald!”
“Schir, God forȝeild ȝow!” said the ald.
“And ȝe do as ȝe heir deuyse,
Maid neuer ȝit on na kin wise
Sa hie ane man and sic ane King
Sa fair ane mendis for sic ane thing.
My name now will I tell ȝow richt:
Cassamus de Laris lord I hecht.
Gaudifeir was my brother deir,
That deit at Gaderis quhan ȝour furreir
Raid in Forray sa sturdely.
Emynedus slew him velanously,
Bot wald God Grant throw his pouste
That I micht anes vpon him se,
For all the gould fra thine to France
I wald nocht let to tak vengeance.”

“Cassamvs,” than said the King,
“Lat be and speik of vther thing,
And mak we iudgement vs betuene!
Thow wait richt weill withouttin wene
That quhen men cumis in battell place,
Quha will be gude, he man purchace
How he may best auansit be.
Gif Gaudefeir be deid, perde,
He slew Pirrus and vther ma.
Lat we the deid togidder ga,
And do we now as custome gais.
Quha with the lord a concord mais,
He sould hald to all the laif,
Baith King and Casare, knicht and knaif.”

113

“Schir,” said the ald, “to myne aduyse,
Ȝour words ar sa wonder wyse
That na man may agane thame set.
All I forgiue withouttin let,
And prayis ȝow for cheritie
Into my helping that ȝe be,
And sheildis fra disherisoun,
My neuoyis tua out of Effesoun,
For ȝe sall haue full great honour
Gif ȝe thame help with ȝour succour.”
The King said, “Cassamus, perfay,
I sall hald cunnand gif I may.”

Cassamvs to the King beheld,
And said, “fare King, quha micht ȝow ȝeld
This grete foredede and thy bounte
Gif that ȝe hald ȝour hecht to me?
Suth is, quhan Gaudefere was dede,
He left tua childer in his stede.
Gaudefere of Effesoun
The eldest hecht, the other Betoun.
Effesoun is ane fair cite
That in the marches of Calde
Of thair mother syde thame falles,
With castels, touris and mony walles,
For duke Betys hir brother was,
That aucht Gaderis and Iosaphas.
Ane dauchter hes Gaudefere alsua,
Nane farar thing on erd may ga.
To name thay call hir Fezonas,
Ane farar figure neuer was.
Bot ald Clarus, the King of Inde,
In his bandoun he walde hir binde,
And wed hir all agane hir will.

114

Bot hir assent is nocht thairtill;
Hir had weill leuer be grauin in grene.
Thairfore that tyran is full tene,
That he destroyes on ilkane syde
Hir lands, and with ane hoste ouer ryde.
Vnto thair cittie ane assege hes set,
And to distroy thame that auld hes thret.
Fare, sweit King, for thy bounte,
Think my neuoyis sall reuenged be
Of that tyran pantenar,
Ȝon couetous, ȝon skarce lymmar.”

“Cassamvs,” than said the King,
“I ȝarne it maist of ony thing
To turnay with my sword of steill
With auld Clarus; thus wit ȝe weill,
Gif I the watter of Pharoun
May pas, I sall him abandoun;
Tine he sall, outher leif the land,
Or de, or than cum recryand.
I sall him challenge the citie
Quhill thy cousinges delyuered be;
Bot thocht thay held of me thare land,
It micht not greif, I vnderstand.”

Thvs as he spak, the King of pris,
With ald Cassamus de Laris,
With that, come gangand in ane rout
Emynedus the stith and stout,
Philot, Arreste and Perdicas,
Caulus, Clitoun and Floridas,
Lycanor, Gartene and Daures,
Festioun, Tholomere and Lyones,
And efter thame come seuin thousand,

115

The worst had citie or kingdome of land.
The King thame sawe, in hart was blyth,
And callit on Lycanor alsuyth,
Syne the duke Emynedus,
Philot, Arreste and Caulus:
“Cum furth, my Douzeperis and my barounis,
Lords of touris and of tounes!
Schir duke of Archade, Emynedus,
Forsuith, as now it standis thus:
We ar accordit of Gaudifere,
That quhylum deit of ȝour banere.”
The duke answered and said, “perfay,
I vnderstand nocht quhat ȝe say.”
The King said, “I sall ȝow tell
That quhylum of ȝour handis fell
Gaudefere, the nobill knicht.”
The duke said, “schir, be Gods micht,
I haue mare dule of him and wa
Than of fyue hundreth vther ma.
Of ane gude man great tynsall is.
Bot quhan he slew Pyrrus, I wis—
My sister sone that was sa gude—
For wrathe and tene I woxe nere wode,
For he was courtes, wyse and fare,
Hardy, kynde and debonare.”
Said Alexander, “thairfore say we,
Ȝon ald man behald and se,
With lyart berd and hare gresone,
That leanes him on ȝon burdone.”
“Schir,” said the duke, “I se him weill.
Him semis sture and stith to feill.
He burde be douchty in ane thrang,

116

Gif ony man wald worke him wrang.”
Ȝe say suth” said the King, “perfay.
Quhat man he is, I sall ȝow say:
Ȝon is Gaudefeires brother,
Bot he is dede, thair is nane other.
God mot grant his saull mede!
He left tua childer of his sede,
And ane dauchter of great renoun.
Gaudefere of Effesoun
The eldest hecht, the tother Betoun,
That of worship and of renoun
Resembles thair fader Gaudefere,
That worthie was in peax and were.
Bot now of Inde the auld Clarus,
The brother quhylum of Pyrrus,
Hes set ane seage before that place.
Bot, will God geue vs that grace
That thay abyde vs, we sall fecht.”
“Schir,” said the duke, “ȝe say all richt.”

Qvhan that the King had tald his tale,
It lykit all the douzepers hale.
The duke said, “be the thrid day
We sall pas Pharon gif we may.
For the lufe of the childer thre,
My sheild of gold sall shawin be
To the folk of Inde, no more.
Quho best will do, sall haue honore.
Maugre haue he that spares his baines
Till the great hoste be rushit anes!”
“Cassamus, heiris thow,” quod the King,
“The worship and the nobill thing
Of the nobill duke de Archade,

117

That sic admonishing hes made?”
“Schir,” said that ald, “in peax and were
Ane souerane bounte hes him distanit here,
For with larges and courtessy
He gouernis him in cheualry.”
“Haue ȝe forgeuin me,” said the duke,
“The great ire ȝe to me tuik?”
Said Cassamus, “all is forgeuin.
Ȝour worship hes my dule ouerdryuen.”
Emynedus said, “I pray ȝow then
That ȝour clething be of ȝow tane,
And tak ane rob furred with armine.”
“I grant!” quod that ald Palasine.
To ane syde of ane tent he ȝeid,
And he vnclethed him full gude speid.
The Chalmerlane ane rob him brocht,
And clethit him sone and lettit nocht.
He was baith stith, stark and strang,
Weill maid with lymmes fare and lang.
The King him sawe quhan he was dicht,
And swore be God and all his micht
That wele him semed ane knicht to be,
To reik grit routtis in ane melle.
Cassamus and Emynedoun
And all the douzepeirs and barroun,
Before the King of Massidonȝe,
Ordaned all withouttin sonȝe
For the passage of Pharone
And the vayage of Effezone.
The King ouer all the hoste gart cry
Take hors and spere delyuerly.
At that tursing men micht here

118

Great noyes and din, quha had bene neir.
Cassamus led thame and was thair gy,
The countrey knew he halely.
All that day to the nicht thay raid,
And harbreid in ane medow braid.
On thair ane hand was ane ryuer,
The tother hand the wod, weill ner
Fra Effesoun half ane iornie;
And quhen thay wist in the cite
How Cassamus, thare eme sa ald,
Brocht Alexander and his barnage bald
In thair rescours for to fecht,
Ane lufe droury he hes thame hecht!

The hoste thame restit all the nicht
Quhil, on the morne that day was licht,
The King gart cry that all sould fare,
And nocht ane leif, les nor mare,
Syne callit to him Antigonus,
Clyton, Tholomere and Caulus.
“Lordingis,” he sayis, “tyme is to fare.
To Effesoun full nere we are.
Methink it tyme to tak our harnes,
Speiris, swordis and all the sikkernes.
To fecht with Indeans mak we prest.
We mak to lang soiorne and rest!
That war na richt to bachleiris
That wald win lofe or pryse in weiris.
Als lang as man is in his ȝouthheid,
He sould assay himselfe in deid,
And put his body in euenture,
In trauell for to win honour.
Of douchty man is nobill thing,

119

That alwayes gangs with mening,
And of euill I sie oft fall
That ald and ȝing is hated all.”
Antigonus him hard, and said,
“Lordings, be all that God hes maid,
Now may ȝe heir the nobillest King
That euer bare croun or vther thing.
Wyse, courtes and large he is.
Quhen he was xv ȝeir ald, I wis,
He thocht how he on ony wyse
Micht win to honour and to pryse,
And in the eld of xviii ȝeir,
He bare first armes, and but dangeir
With-held the Lordis sonnes of the land,
Quhilkis seruit him with fute and hand.
Grete cumpany he can thame bere
In gamming play, in peax and were.
He may auante him of ane thing:
He did neuer man dishonoring,
Bot gaue thame greatly of his gude
And honored thame with mane and mude.
Quha ledis men with sic honour,
Bot gif he be gude gouernour,
Ane thousand is worth vther tua
Of ony gatherines that men may ma.
Quha treatis gud men, he may effy
And traist in thame mare sikkerly
Than on him that will cum to-day
And on the morne will pas away.
Ane man suld that war in pouste
Make him luiffit in his countre.
Thocht he thame gif, he takis tuinfald;

120

That may men pryse wele, quha sa wald;
And quha is hated in his feid,
Weill na may he neuer speid,
For wyse men hes said beforne,
‘Euill nichtbour makes euill morne.’”
Perdicas said, “men aucht to pryse
And honour him on alkin wyse.
Quha will worke be ȝour counsell,
May nocht mis honour na tyne trauell.”
Cassamus to the King come thare,
And said, “shir, it is tyme to fare.
The day is fare, the Sone is bricht,
The wedder is baith fare and licht.
To tempill Marcus I red we ga
And sacrifice to Marcus ma,
And ask answer quhat we sall do.”
Quod Alexander, “I grant thairto.”
He lap on quhen his hors was cumin,
His douzepeirs hes he with him nommin,
The mekill hoste thame after raid
In cumpany that war lang and braid.
Thair leder was auld Cassamus,
That led thame to tempill Marcus.
The King lap doun and boun him made;
The folk that tyme in custome hade,
All cled in quhyte with legges bare.
He entred in withouttin mare.
All that he nedit he with him brocht;
To his intent he leued nocht.
Emynedus and all the laif
Baid thairout, baith knicht and knaif.
The dur he opned and in he gais,

121

And hony and oyle he with him tais,
And on the alter he set him doune;
Four swords hes he tane assone,
And at four quarters hes thame set,
Quhill thay in hony and oyle wer wet.
About the altar ȝeid he thryse,
Adornand it on mony wyse,
And amang the swordis than can he ly,
His hede in the eist, and cryit mercy,
That he sould answer to him ȝeild:
Quhidder he sould win or tyne the feild,
Or how the fecht suld gouerned be
Aganes Clarus and his menȝe.
Quhen he had said, ane sleip he tais—
And airly on the morne he rais—
And in his sleip ane voce can cry,
“Richteous King, rise vp in hy,
To Effezone ȝow ryde but let,
And rase the sege that thair is set,
And reskew Gaudifeir the ȝing,
That hes great neid of thy helping!
With ald Clarus, the King of Inde,
Full hard battale sall thow finde,
For, or he be discumfit all,
Mony of thy gude men sall fall,
Bot at the last men sall him sla
And discumfit his men alsua.”
With that, he walknit and vp he rais,
And to the voce great tent he tais.
The dur he opnit and furth is gane;
His men him keipit euer ilkane.
The watter him gaif schir Floridas,

122

And the touell schir Perdicas.
Than Arestotil him asked sone
Of sacrifice how he had done.
“Maister,” he said, “richt wonder weill,”
And tald him syne euerilk deill.
Quhen Cassamus hard, great ioy he made
And asked leue but mare abade
To Effesoun that he micht ga
For to confort his cousingis tua
And thair menȝe, of that tything.
“I will weill,” sayis the nobill King,
“Bot luke that thow cum to vs sone
And tell vs how the oist hes done,
And all the cunning of Clarus!”
“I grant thairto,” said Cassamus.

Cassamvs on his steid hes stridin,
And fra the oist than hes he riddin.
Or he was cummin to Pharoune,
That was vnder the nobill toune,
It was neir nicht, and he abaid.
The craggis he saw, how thay war maid,
That had ane archearis schot on hicht.
The steppis he saw, how thay war dicht,
The quhilk neirhand ane thousand ware,
Of fyue fute breid and lytill mare,
Quhare thay behouit doune to pas,
For vthir passage nane thare was,
Bot ane bait and ane schip-grome.
Cassamus callit, and he come sone.
“Schir,” said that grome, “we haue had greif
Sen that we lossit our lord and cheif,
Gaudifeir, that styth in stour,

123

That was our lord and gouernour,
For Clarus now with all his oist
Assegis vs, and makis great boist.
He set his battreis to our wallis,
And vtheris engynis that thair-to fallis,
And to ȝour cousingis hes he send
That, or four dayis be cumming to end,
Before the wallis we sall him se,
For to assege with his menȝe.
Lo! ȝe may se his luge stand
Besyde ȝone Crag that is neir hand.”
Said Cassamus, “mak mery chere,
For heir cummis Alexander de Lere,
And with him weill X. thousand knychtis,
To help and hald vs in all richtis!
Thow sall thame se at morning tyde
Heir ludgit at the watter syde.”
“Schir,” said the suane, “than ga we swyth
To tell thir tythingis, to mak blyth
Ȝour neuoy Gaudifeir and Betys
And Fesonas, the fair and wyse,
And Edeas and Ydorus,
The douchters of Antigonus,
That of amouris and of droury
Can speke and spere richt merely.
Sic company men bird hald deir,
And cum alsua of landis seir
To se thame and mak cumpany,
For thay ar gay, glaid and ioly.”
Cassamus said, “delyuer the,
And sone, that we our may be!”
Cassamus to the schip is gane,

124

His hors hes left all him allane,
Bydand on the watter syde.
He rouit our in that self tyde
Till thay arryuit vnder the wall.
Cassamus hard the noyis all
That thay in to the citie maid,
For of Clarus great dout thay had;
And thare he fand Gaudifeir and Betys,
And, with thame, Caldeis and Arrabys.
Quhen thay him saw, than war thay blyth.
Gaudifeir him askit suyth
Quhy he thame left; he said, “perfay,
In to ȝour neidis I haue bene ay,
For in ȝour succouris sall I bring
Of Massidone the nobill King;
To-morne ȝe may his pauillone
And his oist se beȝond Pharone.”
Gaudifeir said, “lytill succouris
Can I se, for all is at rebours.
Pharone is mekill, deip and braid,
And thair is nouther brig nor slaid,
That men may pas, foroutin wylis,
I hop, with-in thre houndreth mylis.
Said Cassamus, “I sall ȝow say
How thay may pas without delay:
Thay come doun ay tua and tua,
Endlang the steppis, thocht thay war ma,
And passis into batis and galayis,
Thocht thay war ma, within thre dayis.”
Betys said, “eme, I heir ȝour saw,
And I haue helm and scheild to schaw,
Hors, haubrek, scheld and spere,

125

Quharewith I aucht me wele to were,
Strenth, will and hardement,
For to vincus the turnament;
And shent worth I, bot gif I set
Sic strakes, fra we and thay be met,
That thay that cumis in our succouris
Sall say that I lufe parramouris!”
“Fare neuoy,” said Cassamus the ald,
“Speke softer and be not sa bald!
For ȝoung men that to armes tais
Sould lytill speke, how euer it gais.”
Betys said, “I haue sic will
That I on na wayes may be still.
Quharefore I requyre ȝow and pray
That, to-morne quhan I se the day,
That foure hundreth with habersouns,
With speires, swordes and blasouns,
Ishe we furth of the cite,
Or the Indeanes may warned be.
We sall do weill, my hart me sais,
And mony of thame we sall abais.
Fra that, Alexander de Leir
May fall of vs sum tydingis heir.”
Said Cassamus, “I grant thairtill
With gude hart and nobill will.
My hart reioysed is, but were,
Quhan I may ocht of armes here.
The quhyle is wele lang sen I rade,
Or hors or armes vmbestrade,
Or bare haubrek, spere or sheld,
Bot as Hermyte in wod and feild
I haue leued; bot now my will

126

Me geuis ȝarning to fecht my fill.”

“Eme, faill me nocht,” said Betys,
“That we to-morne, quhan day can rys,
Mak we to the hoste ane Ieopardy,
For-outtin affray, aduysedly!
Steir we thame in our cuming,
That Alexander heir thairof sum thing!”
“I grant,” said Cassamus the knicht,
“With gude hart, mane and micht.”
Quhan Gaudefere hard, he leuch in hy.
“Eme,” sayis the childe, “ȝe think foly.
Lat vs ȝoung men this melle ma.
Ȝe ar ouer auld dintis to ta.”
Quhen Cassamus hard, his blude quouke,
For proper dispyte he micht not luke.
He said to him full fellonly,
“Thow hursone, full of cowardy!
Auld Clarus and his menȝe
Hes heir asseged this citte,
That elder is all out than I
And ȝarnes to lufe be droury,
And thow, for all thy freshe effere,
Hes done bot lyttill in this were.
Now, for I am tyred in trauell,
Thow hes forbiddin me the battell,
Bot, quhan I am armed weill
With haubrek, helme and sword of steill,
For all the gold into Calde
Thow durst nocht byde me dintis thre!
Thow was neuer lyke to Gaudefere,
That nobill renouned in peax and were!”
The chylde smyled and away is went,

127

And tholed his emis matelent.

“Fare, sweit eme,” said Fezonas,
“Luke ȝe take nocht in crabitnes,
For na thing that my brother sayis!
Ȝe may weill wit he dois bot playes.
For amouris, that ar ioly ay,
Garris him sumquhyle bourd and play;
And I leuch als with gude will,
And sa wald all that couth of skill,
For quhen in ald men sic wourship neuis,
It gammis all that heris, and gleuis.”
He said, “fair nece, thow knawis nocht our kynd,
Na quhen we come, na of quhat strynd,
Na of oure eldaris the senȝeory,
Na the renounit cheualry.
King Pryam was our antesessour,
That aucht all Troy and that honour.
We come fleand in this countre
Fra that distroyit was the citie.
Massones our father hidder come,
His wise and barnis him with nome,
With riches, siluer, gold sa rede,
Tuke in this land baith reif and stede;
And Gaudifeir thi father forow
(Quhais saull our lord scheild fra sorow!)
Duke Betys sister tuke to wife;
And, with hir, this citie antife
Was geuin in to mariage,
And all this land in heretage.
Bot Clarus now clamis senȝeory
For thi luif, damysell ioly.
Wald thow him lufe, this were war gane!”

128

“Thy counsall,” she said, “me hes tane.
To ȝow and to my brether tua
I am haill geuen, withouttin ma.
Quhat euer ȝe do, I stand thair-till.
Now ordane quhat euer ȝe will!
Bot I had leuer drowned be
Or euer he had sesing of me.”
Quhen Cassamus hard, he had pitie,
And said, “fare nece, comfort the!
For my richt arme sall of be shorne
Or he the wed, be euin or morne.
To-morne cumis vs succour planere,
That with vs will duell, withouttin were,
The best and the hardyest of hand,
Als far as sey excedes land.
Alexander and his cumpany,
That fader is of all cheualry,
Emynedus cumis als, but wene,
And mony vther knychts kene.”
“Fare eme,” sho sayis, “is this to trow
That Alexander cumis hidder now,
With his hoste to helpe vs here?”
“Ȝea, fare nece, withouttin were,
To-morne at pryme thow sall him se,
And vther of full great bounte.”
“Schir, is he sic as ȝe vs say?”
“Ȝe, sueit nece, and better perfay,
For he is wyse, courtes and cunnand,
Ȝoung, fare, swete and auenand,
And ouer all large and hardy,
And dois his dedes auysedly;
All euillis hes he fra him set. . . .” [OMITTED]

129

“And glaid of thy come sickerly.
Thy hardynes hes made me red;
Amang thy fais I saw the sted,
In sic ane thrang amang thame set,
That all my fleshe baith quok and suet.
Had the Bauderans manly the assailȝeit,
Our help mycht lytill the availȝeit.
Heir cumis Clarus full sturdely
Armit, and all his company,
All sarraly ridand in battale.
And we tyne ocht, withoutin fale,
It is tynt thing for euer mair;
To our small folk I rede we fare.”
Quhen he had said his will, he went,
And thocht on Ydeas the gent.
His hors hede he turnit thare,
And drew his suerd, that scharply schare;
And his steid bare him stythly.
To ald Clarus than can he cry,
“Wickit carle, thow sall it by,
Of Fezonas the sueit droury,
That is baith ȝing and auenand,
Fare, poleist and plesand.
Heir sall I challange hir sydis sene,
Hir breist, hir armis and als, but weine.
Thow sall neuer haue that paramour
Nakit vnder thy coueratour.
Scho sall al out haue ane better than the,
To quham that scho sall geuin be.
Gif God will and the nobill King
That all thingis geuis but stinting,
Sic ane thing or euin thow sall se

130

That thow in mekill Inde wald be.”
Quhen Clarus hard, than was he wraith,
And strenȝeid the steid with spurres baith
And far fra his feris he straucht his speir,
And he to him come, as of were.
Cassamus hit him in the scheild
Quhill splenderis flew out of the feild,
And he him [straik] in the blasoun
Till of his speir he maid trounschoun;
Far by passit withoutin mare skaith.
Clarus him said in hething raith,
“Hare carle, thus thow chapis nocht.
All thy dede hes thow socht.
Men hes me tald, and knauin is,
That Alexander cumis and all his,
To succour ȝow with his poware.
Bot gif that we may fall sa fare
That I hand mycht on him lay,
He suld aby the deid, perfay,
At that bastard did to Porrus,
Before the place of Pontapolus.
Gif God savis my neuoys weill
And my suord and my mais of steill,
I sall me venge on that King
And gar him rew his neir cuming.”
Said Cassamus, “sa God me rede,
Thow sall forthink, haue thow no dreid.
Thow art nocht sic that thow bird blame
The King that is of rial fame,
That wan all Tripolis and Damas,
Daurus, Pollus and Nicholas.
Ane man with word may mak him fa

131

Alsweill as with deid, I say.
Lak nocht the lord that all suld lout;
With les and mare he is to dout.
It fallis na lard that land suld hald
For to missay nowthir ȝoung nor ald.
Ane rich euill fare men suld fle,
And hait him all that seis with E.”
With that, he passit furth and him socht.
Clarus him baid and fled him nocht,
And with his neiffis he him hint
Full sturdely or he wald stynt,
And Cassamus him hynt agane
Full michtely as man of mane.
Had thay lattin thame allane samyn,
Thay suld repent thame of the gamyn,
Bot Bauderans, Indeanis and Persand
Come rycht fast in the preis prekand,
And gart thame part withoutin let,
And Cassamus to slay thay thret.
Quhen Betys saw his men sa stad,
To succour thame great will he had,
And plungit in amung thame all.
As tempest that garris woddis fall,
He schalit and thirllit the mekill stour,
To help his eme and to succour.
He sesit his brydell with mekill pane,
And said, “fare eme, ha! turne agane!
Me think it tyme, withoutin weir.
With-draw vs hyne of thare danger!
Mysfall vs ocht, we are bot tane,
Or ellis supprysit, or ellis slane.”
“Cousing,” quod Cassamus, “do as thow will.

132

Fare, sweit cousine, I grant thairtill.”

Than Cassamus is turned agane,
And Betys, als ane man of mane.
Thay withdrew thame nocht cowardly,
But vpone brydill auysitly
Thay raid, and sua furth thay past
And Indeans thame followit fast.
The gudeman raid as gude warriour,
Besyde him Betys faucht in stour,
Quhill thay come richt to the wall
Quhair that thare men thame kepit all.
“Fare eme,” said Gaudefere,
“War nocht ȝour counsall, of langere
We had discumfit bene ilkane,
And all our men outher slane or tane.
Ȝe blamed ar for that I ȝeid;
I saw ȝow now in sic ane neid
Quhare that I wald nocht haue bene stad
For all the gold that Pryam had.”
Said Cassamus, “fare, sweit cousine,
I hope thare fallis to luffaris fyne
Fare prayer and douchty deid,
For to Ideas langer thay ȝeid
And me abandoned, as was skill,
For sho me gaif baith hart and will.
To-day airly at myne arming
Hir lufe sho taucht me with ane ring,
And Now I wald but lossingery
Lufe hir and serue hir iolely
With sword of steill that wele can shere,
With helme and haubrek, sheild and spere.”
Thus ȝeid thay carpand to the wall,

133

And thar as gude men baid thay all.
Before the listis at the entre,
Gat thay the Indeans menȝe,
And thay come prekand throw the sand,
Gyrdand with sheilde and spere in hand.

Before Effesoun, at the ȝet,
Was mekill noyes and great debait,
Of hors and men full great affray,
And thay come prekand at deray;
And thay within can stanes cast,
Baith ȝong and ald, richt wonder fast;
Sum kest with handes and sum with sloung,
All war thay doand, baith ald and ȝoung.
Thare was the King of Pincarne
Assailȝeand with his menȝe;
Thay war nocht armed for to fecht,
Bot thay culd wele shute at richt;
Quha drawes thame nere, of thairis sall haue
Memoryall, quha lykes to craue.
Ferefull was the noyes and cry,
And the assault cruell and hardy
Vpon the walles of that Cite;
Thare was gude men, and that plente,
That defendit thair walles weill
With clubis, mellis and axes of steill.
Thay thairout richt hard can cry,
And thay thairin richt preuelly
Thame held, and was richt wysely led
And richt manly defendit thare sted.
Sa fare defence thare couth thay mak
That the great hoste was put abak.
The folk of Inde withdrew thame than,

134

And rewit that thay the sault began;
Maugre thairis, away thay went.
Clarus brint neir for matelent
Quhen he saw the hale battalis
Turne agane, that nane assaillis.
On Cassiell than can he cry,
That lord of Bauderis was and Medy,
“Thow said, nocht four nychts syne,
Into thy solace eftir wyne,
That thow all Effeȝone suld tak,
And wyn it for fare Ideas saik,
That is to say fare and gent,
And with hir do all thyn intent,
And I of Fezonas the fre,
That is peirles of all bounte.”
Said Cassiell, “fair schir King,
Ȝe mak menyng of sic ane thing
That neuer sall failȝe with my will,
Bot I be strenth be lend thair till.
Gif that I lufe that maidin fre
And courtasy be ocht in me,
I aucht to lufe all hirris, I hecht,
For that, I hope, Is lufis richt,
Agane hir will to do nane Ill,
Bot serue hir baith with hart and will;
And gif that sho on ony wyse
With-haldis me of hir franchis,
Than haue I lemman at my will,
And lufe I will baith loud and still;
And sagait sall ȝe do, I wys,
Gif ȝe wald of lufe brouk the blis.
Ȝe wary hir and all hir kyn;

135

Hope ȝe sagait hir lufe to wyn?”
“Thow art rycht courtes,” said Clarus,
“The quethir the dame Ydeus
Na gettis thow nocht, for all thy fair
Courtasly coueris seildin cair.”
“Schir,” said the Bauderane, “at ȝour lyking!
I am ȝour man and ȝe my King.
Of ȝow hald I landis in feis,
Castellis, towris and fare Citeis,
And thay of Bauderis ar with me heir,
And Synodis, that I haue to steir;
Thay pas nocht hyne quhill ȝe heir duell;
That tale of me sall na man tell.”

All this repreif and this hething
Cassamus hard, and this speiking,
And Betys als, his cousing deir.
“Eme,” said Betys, “now may ȝe heir
How ȝone Bauderane with his harnes,
That is oylit without affrays,
Wald wirk his will with Ydeas.”
“Fare, sueit cousing,” said Cassamus,
I am first luffit and in sesing.”
“Ȝa,” said Betys, “at ȝour wynning.”

Thvs hes Cassamus and Betys
Said of the Bauderanes deuys,
That was courtes, weill taucht and keynd
And wald haue Ideas to freynd.
He luffit hir with all his mycht,
Wnwittand ȝit of that sueit wycht.
The battellis come than on ane raw,
Bot als fer as ane bow mycht draw,
Durst nane approche, that wit ȝe weill,

136

For waponis, that war sharpe to feill;
On bothe the sydes thay held thame still,
That nane did vther mekill ill.
Clarus neirhand out of wit is gane,
And waryed his Goddis euer ilkane;
And Marciane to him he cald,
“Marciane,” said Clarus the ald,
“It semis weill quhair hartis failȝeis,
The laif of lymmes lytle vailȝeis;
And quha hes hart hardy and gude,
Strenth him doubilles in mane and mude.
Quha luiffis honour, he seikes it ay.
Cowartis dois worship at delay.
Quha seis gude, the gude suld cone,
And of gude father suld cum gude sone.
Gif he be nocht gude but vnhappy,
Or gottin into bastardy,
Men will him hait in dede and thocht.
Dredes he na shame, he countis nocht.”
“Marciane,” said [he], “fare, sweit cousine,
Now thay me fale that efter wyne
Manasses, Betys and Gaudefere
And als ald Cassamus de Lere
Slayand with toung and words of wynd
Than into my palace of Inde,
And now abased ar made and still,
And nouther can do gude nor ill;
Wickednes thame followis all,
And thay it follow, great and small.
Farly how in harnes hartis be red
That in ȝouth-hede and strenth is sted
And seis his feit in steropis straucht

137

And hes in hand his reinȝeis raucht,
His helme, his haubrek and his speir,
His mace, his sword richt hard to sheir,
His steid that starting and stamping mais,
And seis the stoutnes of his fais,
Despysing him with boste and pryde.
Schent worth the armes at that tyde
Hald sa lang the nobill steid
That he na him prik endlang the meid,
Worship to do and cheualry,
That men speik thairof greatly!
Fra man haue helme and irne weid,
In stirroppis straucht, strekand his steid,
He suld wene that he war worth Hector,
Pryams sone, or Prothinor.
Gif he be pure and hes bot small,
He mak him lord stith in stall
With his burneist brand of steill.
Lo heir the mister, I se it weill,
Quhair the gude is erle or knicht,
Duke or Admerall or King of micht.
Now ar my sonnes in hunting went,
And we with the floures of Orient
Fechtis, and with our enemeis
Cassamus, Gaudifeir and Beteis.
Now gude dede salbe prysit, I hecht,
And loued more than to the richt,
Quhare the gude sall haue honour,
The wicked shame for thair labour.
The flearis sall haue shame and skaith,
The chaissaris mensk and honour baith.”
“Fare eme,” said Marciane of Pers,

138

“Me think, be that that ȝe rehers,
That the gude and the hardy
Of ȝour cours sall haue warrandy,
And the cowartis that ar fleand
Sall shent be and recryand.
A! quhat thame fallis foull that fleis!
He is war than dede that fleand deis!”
“Fy!” said Clarus, “of that foull lyfe!
Thair sall nane that is borne of wyfe
Call me flear nor se me fle!”
“Eme,” said Marciane, “now I se
That all the folk of this Citie
Thinkis wele to reuengit be,
Abydis succouris, and that sone.”
“Ȝa,” said Clarus, “and that or none
Sall thay of Alexander the King
Haue help, rescours and succuring.”

Thvs as that ald was sermonand
And hardiment to thame kennand,
Sa saw thay on ȝond halfe Pharoun
The standart and the gunfioun
Of the riche Empriour
That aucht all Grece and that honour,
The baner of Massidone with-all,
And vther baneris great and small.
Thay hard trumpettis and Elephantis,
Tauburnes and seir instrumentis.
Before his men the King can ryde,
His barrounes war on ilk a syde,
And restit at the water of Fare.
Cassamus hors than fand thay thare,
That he left thare at euin late.

139

Thay brocht him to the King of stait
And said, “lo! heir is Cassamus steid.”
“Ȝa,” said the King, “sa God me reid,
He wait our cunnand al be this.
We sall him se cum sone, I wis.”

The gentill empriour of Grece,
That lord of Lyue was and Caldeis,
He lichtit on the roch of Fair,
That had ccccc. steppis and mair
Fra thyne doun to the wattersyde.
His oist all haill thare gart he byde,
And scheuit to the Emynedone
The flude, that braid was, of Pharone,
And archearis on that vther syde,
With landis that was fare and wyde,
Mony tentis and pauilionis,
Helmis, speris and pennonis.
The assailȝeing saw he at the wall,
And instrumentis that thare-to fall,
And auld Clarus and his great menȝe;
And alswa within the citie
He saw Gaudefeir and Betys,
With thame Caldeans and Arabyis.
“Lordingis,” said the nobill King,
“Ȝonder I beheld ane ferly thing:
I se sa mony helme of steill
I hop nane may thame numer weill.
Ilk man, me think, to schaw his steid
Or sport him-self, assayis his weid.
Thame of the citie blame I nocht,
That keipis thare Citie quhen thay ar socht,
Bot ane thing I warne ȝow weill:

140

Indeans ar fals; that sall thay feill.
Cum thay in fare feild for to fecht,
Sik marterdome sall we mak, I hecht,
As we made anes of Dauris men,
That ay aganes ane war ten.
The King Clarus is wyse in were,
Richt stout and hardy of affere,
Bot his men him hates as the dede;
To his tynsall thay will him lede.
Sen he is hated, I warne ȝow this:
We sall discumfete him and his.
Cassamus and his cousines baith
The hoste of Grece hes sene full raith.
“Fare eme,” said Gaudefere, “lo!
Now is gude tyme worship to do!
Gif we na do, we sall be shamed
And als salbe refused and blamed.
I se the enchesoun apperand,
And the tyme is richt auenand.”

Said Caffamus, “fare cousines dere,
Me think it leuis nocht in me here
Na we ga furth for to assale
The folk of Inde in the battale.
Now I assent me, vailȝe quod vailȝe,
In my defalt it sall nocht failȝe.
Ȝe byrd be douchty be all richt;
Sa sall ȝe be, be Godis micht.
Thy fader was Gaudefere de Larace,
And Eledas, the fare of face,
Thy mother was, and duke Betys
Thy eme, that was of mekill prys.
And ȝonder I se on roch Balaas

141

The King of Grece and Damas,
That father and syre of wourschip Is.
Emynedus is thare, I wis,
Lyoun, Arreste and Perdicas,
Festioun, Caulus and Floridas.
The folk of Grece fast on vs gouis,
And lakkis vs maa, I trow, na louis
That we heirin bydis sa lang,
That we na gang furth to thirll ȝone thrang.
This day thow aucht richt weill to schaw
Quhat strenth thow may in armes draw.
Ȝonder ar the folk men may nocht fle,
That spekis on law and strekis on hie.
Sa wyse is the nobill King,
In his play is more dyuers thing
Than in the chace; richt wele I wait
Quha playis nocht weill, may sone be mait.
Now for the King of Grecis saik,
Ane suddand fray on thame we mak,
Quhare we the Bauderane son sall se,
That challangis Ydeas the fre!”
With that, his helm he can on lais,
And syne the scheild he can on brais;
He hint ane spere that was sa styth,
And straik his steid with spurris suyth.
“Eme,” said Betys, “withoutin me
Ȝe sall nocht Ische to ȝone melle!”
Said Gaudifeir, “I am all boune.”
With that, thay ischit out of the toun,
Wele x. thousand of all menȝe,
Of Effezoun and of Calde.
The King Clarus and Cassaell

142

And Marciane with his tropell
Agane thame come with all thare micht;
In middis the preis begouth the fecht.

Thvsgait on baith the halfis remouit
The oistis, that nocht ane vthir louit.
The folk of Medy sarraly
And Effezonis raid hardely
Aganis Persianis, that wourthy weir,
That Marciane had to leid and steir,
That couth thame weill and wourthy lede;
Alexander hatit he as the deid,
For his emys saik, Porrus,
That he slew at Pontapolus.
Marciane was sib to Clarus neir,
His sister sone he was but weir;
He was staluart and fare but failȝe,
Hardy and douchty in battailȝe.
Alssone as he saw Gaudifeir,
To him he ran, strekand his speir.
Quhen Gaudifeir him saw, alsuyth
In sterapis straucht he him als styth;
Strekand his steid as man of mane,
Come gaily girdand him agane.
Him semyt weill ane man of mycht,
Fersly in ilk feild for to fecht.
Quhare he saw Marciane, thidder he raid,
And Marciane baldly him abaid,
And hit him, that throw strenth of steid
His mekill speir in splendris ȝeid;
And Gaudifeir him hit, I hecht,
With sic vertew in randoun richt
That steid and knycht, baith schaft and scheild,

143

He bare doun bakwartis in the feild.
Quhen Marciane felt he fallen was,
He was shamefull and swith he rais,
And stert on fute and drew his brand,
Wend Gaudefeir had bene neirhand;
Bot he, that ellis-quhere had his thocht,
Gyrdit fast by and socht him nocht.
The hoste of Grece can halely se
That straik, that ensewing and that melle.
“Harrow!” said Alexander, “I haue sene
Baith hors and man ga doun bedene,
Bot he gais girdand throw the meid,
With helme embrased in his weid;
The steid gayly garris he ga,
It semis it deiris him nocht ane stra!”
Said Tholomere, “I trow it is
Of Gaudefeiris barnes, (quhais saull haue blis!).”
“Allace!” said Alexander the King,
“Quhat me misfell in mekill thing
At Gaderis, quhair that he was dede!
Had he leued quik, sa God me rede,
We sould haue worthin freinds weil.
At Gaderis tynt I our great deill!
Thar I tint Pyrrus and Gaudefeir
And Sampsoun, that was wicht in weir.”
Greatly menit he Gaudifeir
And his sone, that wele couth steir.
Quha had than sene Betys
And als Cassamus de Larys
And the folk of Effesoun
Pas the listis of the toun,
Quhair thay fand thame of Pyncarne,

144

That naked war and of weir vnsle,
Sa mony thay slew, sic roume thay made,
To Gaudifeir thay come but bade.

The stour was great and fell the noyis,
Quhair Gaudefeir thirlit the groyis.
Sa far he past that mekill pane
Endured he or he come agane.
Thair dang he on, bare doun and beft;
Thame he ourtuke, the lyfe they left.
Indeans him fled, as thay wer wod;
Betys and Cassamus the gud
Him followit neir, with ane thousand men
That men be countenance micht ken;
Of thame of Inde great martir made,
The renkis deuoydit quhair thay raid.
On ather half was noyes and greif
Quhen cummin was the great mischeif,
For Gaudefeir at the first meting
Straik him to erd, euin the King,
That hors and he to erd lay baith
And that the King of Inde sa raith
His sword in hand all naked he bare;
On ilk syde of him his fais ware,

Qvhen that the Bauderane, his cousing,
Come wallopand with great etling,
And with ane spere that sharpely share,
Mony doun to the erd he bare.
Amang thame he rade and rudely rushit,
Defoulit with feit and all to-frushit;
Apparaled to do hardement,
With arme all straucht, great strakes he sent,
He strake and fellit and mony hes slane;

145

Quhome euer he hit, he sparit nane.
With speres and swordis was slane his stede
Vnder him, and to erd he ȝede.
Thay do great harme that sic supryses!
Delyuerly on fute he ryses,
And but abasing his sword he drew,
And routes rude about him threw.
Ane renk about him hes he made;
Quhair euer he straik, nane him abade.
Speres and dartis at him they cast;
The Bauderane him defendit fast,
And said, “cousine, defend the weill!
Luke nane cowardyce in vs feill
Quhill that succouris cum to vs heir,
And that at hand is cumand neir!”
With that, Bauderanes and Persand
Come thare into the preis prekand.

Thvs thir knichtis that war sa kene,
On fute wer fechtand on the grene,
Defendand thame with routis ryde.
Caldeans assalȝeit on ather syde,
The King of Grece thame saw and louit;
Als his folk fast on thame gouit,
“Lordingis,” said the nobill King,
“Ȝonder ȝe may se ryall thing,
Of ȝon tua knichtis that ȝonder fechtis,
Defendand thame with all thare michtis,
With great worship and auyse
And with great ȝarning to win pryse.
Thare hardement haldis, thair auyce,
Thare great worship and thare pryce!

146

Hald in ȝour hartis, I pray ȝow, this,
And shaw it furth quhen mister is.
Nocht-for-thy, will I nocht say
Na ȝe ar worthyer be alway
And hardyer in all kin thing,
Bot I say it for amending.
Now will I gang, efter the were,
In Babylon the croun to bere.
Thare sall ȝour worship tak ending.
For-thy I shew ȝow thair fechting
That ȝe suld moue, gif mister war,
On ȝon tua knichtis that fechtand ar.
Certis, I wald be les than King
And les haue in all kin thing
With-thy that I als worthy war
As ȝon knichtis that fechtand ar.
Gif I wantit landis or dignitie,
I suld conquer aneuch plente. . .” [OMITTED]
“Gif ȝe haue preued his dedes ȝare,
Ȝe suld him lufe tharefore wele mare.”
“Quhat be he?” than said the King.
“Schir, ȝon is Cassiell the ȝing,
That Lord and syr is of Bauderis,
Of Medes and Synadis.”
Than Alexander hes sworne raith
Be his croun and his Godis baith
That him worthy bird to be;
His eldars war of sik bounte:
Of Thebes and Troy was all his kin.
Him bird richt wele great worship win.

Thvs hes the King said his aduyse
Of the Bauderane, that was to pryse.

147

Sa said the ladyes on the wall,
And louit him, baith great and small,
And Marciane, that was him ner;
And ȝarned that thay delyuerit wer.
“I trow,” said Ideas the fre,
“That ȝon be Asaltoun that I sie.
Me think his sheld ane castell gude;
Thay fle him all, as thay war wod.
Me think his sword ane wall of steill.
To Engens his armes ar likned weill,
That stryken hes mony ane sturdy strake
And mony ane cowart hes gart quake.
He is delyuer, stalwart and smart,
Wele made on hors and hardy of hart.
I lykken him to the gods all
That I adorne and honour sall,
That he be nouther shent nor slane,
Bot God gif grace that he be tane!
His worship richt wele we se;
We wald se gledly his bounte,
And how his corps of cumpany
Is warnest and of courtessy.”
“Fare fallow,” said Fesony,
“I hope thow lufis specially.”
“Ȝe say suth,” said Ideas,
“Better than all on erd that gais.
He wat na thing quhat he may be,
Bot, be my Gods, all sik as he
Suld haue worshep and cherising
And our all vther haue louing.”
Wist the Bauderane how Ideas
Him rusit, and dame Fesonas,

148

His hardement suld doubled be,
And enforced his bounte.
Nocht-for-thy, as stith in stour
He defendit him with honour
Quhill his men come on ilk syde
And horsit him on ane steid of pryde,
And Marciane alsua, his cousine,
Vpone ane vther fresche and fyne.
Thare men micht se defouling of steidis;
Sum dang and sum for dintis dredis.
The Effesonis war rushit thare,
Makand great noyes, dule and care.
The assalt was cruell and douteous,
The battell het and hideous.
Ane child fra thame is went in hy,
That culd weill speik and wittelly.
Throw out the semble all he past
Quhill Cassamus he met at last
And to him hiely can he cry,
“Schir, but ȝe speid ȝow hastelly,
Ȝour seruandis halely will be slane.
Speid ȝow, or thay will de ilkane!”
Quhen Cassamus hard his intent,
His blude changed for matelent;
And said to Gaudefeir in hy,
“Follow me sone rycht haistaly!”
With that, “Tortoun!” loud can thay cry;
His men to him than come rychtly.
With force fechtand agane he went,
Maugre quha-sa had matelent.

Now the Cieteȝenis ar went agane,
Manly as men of mekill mane,

149

Wysly fechtand but affray.
Clarus thame followit at deray,
That neir, for wraith, of wit is past,
With all his folk assailȝeand fast.
Thare wirthit the cieteȝenis pay treuage,
Or resist the Kingis great outrage.
Gaudefere turnit oft, and Betys,
And sa did Cassamus de Larys.
Thay schewit weill at thare parage
Was cuming of Troy and of Cartage.
Cassamus led thame wittely;
Sufferand his myschif halely,
He did feill douchthy vassalage.
Besyde Pharone and that riuage
Thay fand the assailȝearis at the wall,
Thare seruandis neir discumfit all.
“Childer cousingis,” said Cassamus,
“Great schame and skaith this dois to vs
That for thare power prysis vs small,
Thay wald reif vs our landis all;
And ȝonder I se the nobill King,
That abydis my cuming;
Fast behaldis vs the Greions,
And haly als the Massidons.
To-day bird weill ane douchty man
Schew all the wertew that he can.
Quha-sa sare strakis can strike,
He sall be lowit with pure and rike.
Us wourthis direnȝe our heretage
And with swordis win vs passage.
My treuage sal be payt with my brand.
Outhir quyk or dede, ouris is the land.

150

Throw out the folk I will fute het.
Now furth fare, beirnes, and conqueis the ȝet!
Quha failȝeis now, thay sall haue skaith,
Disceis and great dishonour baith!”

Throw strake of sword and strenth of steid
Maid Cassamus quhair euer he ȝeid,
Throw his vertew, that was wele prouit.
His tua cousines, that was wele louit,
With thare men armit, him followit weill,
Reddy to stryke with sword of steill.
Now haue thay mister for to be
Sturdy, stout and bysse,
For thay war neuer in sic ane thrang.
Clarus behynd vpon thame dang,
And before thame [was] hard battale,
Cruell and hardy, withoutin fale.
Thame worthis assale and thame defend
And win entre, quhan God will send,
Or thare honour micht faued be.
In great perell was thare menȝe,
Bot worship, hardement and rigour
Gaif thame streth into that stour.
With that, Cassamus far by he rade,
Ane mekil axe in hand he hade.
Thare fand he Cassiell the Bauderane,
That the ȝettis had hewit with mane.
He cryit to him, that he micht here,
“That bargane sall thow by full dere!”
With that, he liftit his hand-axe hie
And straik als fast as he micht dre,
That in suouning he gart him ly
Vpon his arsoun dissaly;

151

And at his rysing he him sesit,
His brydill in his hand he leuit,
And with the tother hand sik ane suak
He raucht euin ourthort the bak
That he wist nocht ane myle of way
Quhether that it was nicht or day.
Quhen thay within saw him sua dicht,
Thay sesit him with all thare micht.
This was the Bauderane sesit and tane
With men that wald him sone haue slane,
Na war Cassamus de Laris,
That safit his lyfe as man of pris
And led him tane in the Cite.
Great dule maid thay of his countre,
But quhen thay haue the mischeif sene,
Thay turned all agane in tene.
Than thay of Effesoun entrit fast
And closit thare ȝettis quhan thay war past.
Thus endit that assalt and melle,
And thus entered thay in thare cite.

Quhen none was passit, than ceissit the noyes,
Battellis withdrew thame and groyes.
Gaudefere and his brother Betis,
Cassamus and thare folk of pris,
In thare Castell the Bauderane led.
Quhen he onarmit was and cled,
He was richt fare and auenand,
Ȝong, simple and of fare sembland;
Of fare effere was the Bauderane.
Gaudefere bad his chalmerlane
Bring him clething, and that belyfe;
Kirtill and mantill he brocht him swith,

152

Of Inde semit fare and fyne,
And he ressauit it and cled him syne.

Qvhen vnarmit was Cassiell
And cled in kirtill and mantell,
He was rycht ferly fresch and fare.
Thay brocht him, for the heit of are,
Ane hat of hyde of Salamandar,
Of ane foull that bredis in Alexander.
Cassamus him by the hand hes tane,
Quhare was ane Ryng of rych stane;
“Schir,” said that ald, “in this castell
I think to schew ȝow ane iouell
Sa fare, sa suet, sa auenand
That to ȝour sicht is richt plesand.
[I] hard lang ere how that Clarus
And ȝe held speke of Ydeus,
That hes the visage cleir and fare,
With corpis courtes and debonare.”
The Bauderane kest doun his face
And of his speche aschamit was,
And in ane study held him still
And na word spak, gude nor ill.
“Schir,” said Cassamus, “leif ȝour thocht.
To be our thochtfull it helpis nocht,
For mony ane man hes bene tane
And syne delyuerit weill agane.
This weir full lang may nocht lest;
The fynessing approchis fast.
How euer it be, the worst mon tyne;
Throw battell mon this were tak fyne.
Worship oft-syse men mon aby.
Couth ȝe haue delt with cowardy,

153

This day had na man takin ȝow;
Bot that war nocht for ȝour prow.
Tharefore, gud shir, gif it be ȝour will,
Comfort ȝow and be now still;
With the maydins ȝow gammyn and prufe
Gif thare be ony that ȝe wald lufe;
And I will be as messingere,
Ȝour erands to thame for to bere.”
“Eme,” said Betys, “lat be ȝour fare.
I pray ȝow speke thareof na mare.
I sawe dame Ideas the ȝing
Gif ȝow hir lufe with ane gould ring.”
“Fare cousine,” said Cassamus,
“Be all our Gods and be Marcus,
I am our ald to clap or kis
Maydin that ȝoung and ioly is;
Bot he is ȝoung and fare of fere,
And hes great lordships for to stere,
And our all thing is ioly and gay,
His make saw I nocht this mony ane day;
And sen God hes sik ane to vs send
Quhair nathing may to be amend,
To solace him we suld vs pane.”
“Schir, mekill thank!” sayis the Bauderane,
“Bot I dar be our gods swere,
Baith Neptune, Mars and Iupiter,
I saw hir neuer that ȝe of mene,
Bot in seir steids haue I bene
Quhair I haue hard pryse hir bounte,
Hir wit, hir worship and hir bewtie.”
“For-thy will I,” said Cassamus,
“Schew ȝow the fare dame Ideus.”

154

And by the sleif he hes him tane,
And towart the chalmer is he gane.
Ane chyld is to the chalmer went
To tell the maydins, that war gent,
How the Bauderane was tane and led,
Vnarmed and syne cled.
He hopit ane better bachlere
Na better taucht in all manere
Was nocht in warld na mare to pryse
Na to honour in ony wyse;
For he is courtes attour all thing,
Rigorus, hardy but affraying,
And of fare hauing, gude and gay,
Wele taucht and kynd but deray.
Quhen the ladeis hard him sa louit,
Ilk of thame on uther gouit
And for his saik sum sichit sare.
Fesonas said, and wald not spare,
“To sic suld ladyes do honour,
And grant thame solace and amour,
Erar than to Clarus King,
That auld and worne is in all thing;
For he is ȝoung, fare and fetyce,
Courtes, douchty at all deuyce.
Dame Ideas, now may ȝe se
Him that ȝe prysit of bounte,
That iustit herefurth sa fare and faucht
And with his sword sic routis raucht.
Gif all ȝour wissis sa sone suld fall,
I wald I had ane of thame all!
Wald Iupiter it suld cost me
Baith girdill and gold, with-thy that he

155

Dedenȝeit to lufe ȝow lelely!
And I grant ȝow his lufe courtasly.
Great almous it war that sic menȝe
Micht at thare will assemblit be,
With that ȝe are fare to feill
And can comfort ȝour lemman weill.”
Said Ideas “ȝe may best scorne.
Ȝe ar baith better and eldar borne.
With-haldis him with ȝour self in still
And lat me work as weirdis will!
I kepe na lufe, loud na still,
Bot Cassamus, quhill at he will.”

The Bauderane, Cassamus and Betys,
That was ioyfull and ioyus,
Come in the chalmer, of quhilk the wall
Of gold clenely was pantit all,
With siluer als and with asour,
Made sindre things of sere colour.
Thare fand thay Fesonas and Ideas
And the fare dame Idorus.
Quhan thay saw thame cumand neir,
Thay rais sone, and on thare maneir
Thay welcumed thame with fare wordis in hy,
And by the hand richt courtesly
Ilkane tuke vther, and syne thay ȝeid
To sit on sege and silkin weid,
Ay tua and tua; dame Fesonas
Sat vmest and syne the Bauderane was,
Idorus syne and syne Betys,
Syne Ideas, the fare of face,
And Cassamus sat all the last.
Ideas he embrased fast,

156

And to hir said he, “damysell,
My hart I gif to the all hale,
But velany thocht or mauite.
Thairof thy hart sall sikker be.”

Cassamvs was wyse and wyly,
Glaid and ioyfull in cumpany,
And in battell cruell and kene,
And greatly of the warld hes sene.
The ginnes knew he hale, I wis,
To forȝet dule and begin blis.
He wald richt glaidly set his pane
For to reioyce the Bauderane.
Cassamus said, “quhat think ȝe, syre?
This chalmer will nouther haue wraith na ire,
For this is dame Venus hous,
That to lufaris is delytious.
Quha beis heir, lufe him behouis.
Here may nane duell bot he that lufis.
Here may valȝeis nocht the thocht,
Na to be shamefull helpis it nocht.”
“Schir,” said the Bauderane, “ȝe ar worthy,
Weill taucht and full of courtessy.
To here ȝow I am desyrous.”
“And I to say is richt ioyous!”
Said Cassamus, “fare maydin fre,
Sall I shew ȝow?”—“ȝa, shir, parde.”
“Certis, be Neptune,” said Cassamus,
“I am wele auld and ryatus,
Bot of eld it is the richt
For to be crabed day and nicht.
Schent worth he that crabis him ocht!
Schir Bauderane, ferly ȝow nocht!

157

Lo! heir thre wenchis full pietuous,
And we ar thre, stark and vertuous!
Sa our Goddis me were fra wa,
The thre, I wait, weill luffis the tua.
But now I will discharge me all
Of amouris thochtis, great and small,
And to ȝow, that ar gracious,
I leif the thochtis of amourous,
For to that craft I am our ald,
Crabbit, contrarious, lene and cald.”
The Bauderane sayis “ȝe haue dischargit
Ȝow, and me with the briding chargit!
That euenture is on great manere,
I set to bair and is nocht sure.
Now pray I God and makis my mane
That I nocht lufe now my alane.”
Said Cassamus, “it war velany
That ȝow sould faill of droury.
Gif ȝe heir-to lykis to lufe,
Or ony cheis for ȝour behuf,
Gif I be trouit, ȝe sall nocht faill.”
To Ydeas said he in counsall,
“Maydin, this man is richt douchty
And lord is of great senȝeory,
And he is ȝoung, fare and plesand,
Courtes, fetas and auenand.
Lufe him and hald him [in] dante.
Vpone his behalfe I pray the.”
“Schir,” said that sueit, “quhen ȝe me prayes,
I sall aduyse me neid-wayes
To answer him adwysedly,
All with ressoun, without foly.

158

Throw ȝour counsell gif I it do,
Thare bird na reprufe follow thairto.
Sen ȝe me haue to keip and steir,
Of ȝour hie counsell I ȝow requeir.”
“Thow art wele taucht,” he said, “I wis.”
With that, he lukit throw ane tyrlis,
And saw on the ȝond syde Pharoun
Mony ane tent and pauillioun
Of the rich Empriour
That ocht all Grece and that honour.
Quhan the Bauderane the hoste can se,
He asked quhat it micht be.
“The King of Grece,” than said that ald,
“That maister is and hes in wald,
Alexander de Lere, quhare all largenes
Florisheth and spredis in all noblenes!
Sa wele lufes he my cousines tua
That he cumis thame rescours to ma.
On tuisday the battell sall be,
Agane Clarus and his menȝe.
He begouth euill his senȝeory
That with strenth wald haue Fesony.
Now will I our Pharone fare
To the best King that euer croun bare,
And ȝe thre damysellis sall bere
Cumpany to this bachelere
That here is in ȝour presone left
Quhill I agane cum to ȝow eft,
And he sall swere ȝow be Venus,
Cupid and Mercurius,
And the ioy and the dignitie
Of his lufe and his lemmenis bounte,

159

That he sall na chaip this maner,
But ȝour thre willes, that sittis here.”
“Schir,” said the Bauderane, “thank haue ȝe!
I may nocht quyte ȝow this bounte.
Bot gif I may on ony wyse,
I think to quyte ȝow ȝour frenchyse.”

Efter this speche rais Cassamus
And callit to counsall Idorus
And Betys als, hir cousine.
“I pray ȝow,” said that palasine,
“Freindis, to mak cumpany
To the Bauderane, lord of Medy,
For of him and ȝour nece Idea
Think I ane mariage for to ma
Efter this battell, gif Marcus
Geuis vs to speid aganes Clarus;
And ilk knicht also is haldin well,
To help and mentene ane damysell.”
With that, out of the chalmer he gais
And to the King the richt way tais.
Thay that war left quhen he was gane,
On silkin carpets sat doun ilkane,
That strouit war with sindry floures
Wele sauorand, of sere coloures.
Amang thame made thay play and gamyn,
To solace and to sport thame samyn.
Thare was demandis and fare answeris,
Enquestis, greting and prayers
Of amouris and his worshep all,
And of the gude thairof micht fall.
Thay bourded and gamed fast,
Thare speche ordaned thay at last.

160

To ‘the King that suld nocht le’
Thay cheisit Betys, and hecht trewlie
And swore that he suld richteous be
Quhill he was in his maieste.
Than Idorus of rashes and strais
Full fetasly ane croun sho mais.
Scho crounit him full courtesly,
And sat doun sone in cumpany.

The counterfittit King him dressit on hicht,
And he bad Ideas the bricht,
Throw strenth and vertew of the play,
That sho the suth suld to him say,
Gif sho of lufe had felt the shouris,
The siching, quaking and the stoures.
“Ȝit felt I nane,” said the cleir,
“Bot great thochtis haue I suffred seir.”
“Be God,” said Fesonas the fre,
“That sheld na may nocht couer the,
I wate richt wele, thocht thow consele,
Thow lufis with gude hart and lele.”
“I say na mair,” said Ideas,
“Bot gif I lufe and lemmen has,
I thank ane thousand syse Wenus,
Cupido and Marcurius.”
With that, sho sichit and changit hew.
Hir visage, that was freshe of hew,
Wox rede and farar, as I wene,
Than it euer before had bene.
The Bauderane hir beheld and saw;
His hart was woundit into that thraw
With amouris throw fare-hede vnfeinȝeit,
And strenth of ȝarning, that him distrenȝeit.

161

“And thow, fare sister,” quod the King,
“Feȝonas, my sueit thing,
For the fay that thow aw Dyany,
Hes thow lemman or droury?”
“Now,” said the wenche, “be Iubiter,
I haue nouther Gilȝeame na Gauter.
I lufe na man in priuate,
Na na man dedenȝit to lufe me.”
The King saw and persauit weill
That ielusy gart hir speik ilk deill,

Qvhen Betys saw his sister ȝing
Dryfe Ideas sa to hething,
He leuch and gamyt him wilfully.
The Bauderane callit he courtasly;
He said “schir, for the dignite
Of this play and ȝour bounte,
Withoutin ony fenȝeing,
Thy suith-fastnes sais to ȝour King
Quhare ȝe think maist to lufe lelely.”
“Schir,” said the Bauderane courtasly,
“I sueir ȝow be the rialte
Of ȝour croun and the dignite
And be the faith I haue to amours,
At, sa lufe mak me succouris,
I think nouthir quhare on luffing
Bot on dam Ydeas the ȝing,
To quhom I grant me halely,
And with hart prais hir tendarly
That scho me lufe for hart and will;
With mude and mane I grant hir till.”
“Schir,” said the madin courtasly,
“I refuse nocht ȝour droury,

162

Bot thankis ȝow ane thousand sys
Of ȝour spech and of ȝour franchys.”
“Trewly I se nocht,” said the King,
“In this aquentance nakin thing
Bot sueit aquentance, lufe and drowry.”
Than lukit he by him ruthfully,
And said, “my sueit dam Ydory,
Sais sum comfort now in hy!
A! sueit hart, weill taucht and plesand,
Confort thy lemman with ane grant!”
“I haue na will,” said Ydory,
“To becum lemman allanerly
With speke! bot I grant it to the,
Sa wounder frely sall it be”—
Scho spekis baith with hart and will—
“All sall be tynt withoutin Ill.
Bot lat we now the batellis ga
Of vs and of Clarus alsua,
And wourthy wirship win manfully
And luffaris manteme thame knychtfully;
Gif God geuis ȝow ane mandment,
I may come sone to parliament.
Ane vthir grant heir mak I the:
Quhen I will lufe, bot gif I be
Supprysit with lufe or strenth or list,
That I sall lufe the all-thir first.”
“Schir,” said the Bauderane, “sa haue I blis!
Ane sare cunnand me think this is!
And for ȝour faith, fare, sueit schir King,
Ressauis in thank, schir, this hething,
And to my Goddis I sall oft pray
To keip my freindis out of ȝour way!”

163

“Schir,” said the King, “I grant it weill,
Hir will me lykis euer ilk deill,
And takkis in thank pane and trauell,
Trauell or eis, quhethir euer scho will.
War nocht that men wald it let,
Or to auant or rusing set,
Sic ane word say I wald
That commonly men suld it hald
For great outrage; bot this I say:
In lyfe ocht lang leif gif I may,
Clarus sall by his barganyng
And in this countre his cuming!”
Quod the Bauderane, “sais hardely!
Ȝour lufe, I wait, weill deir sall by
Ane houndreth and ma, I tak on hand;
Agane ȝour suord I sall warrand.”
“Na,” said Betys, “I me repent
That I sa largely myne intent
Hes said; bot he that luffis weill
And ȝarnyng hes his lufe to feill
And gaily luffis in hope of blis,
His will he may nocht hele, I wis.
For quhen I se hir forow me
That I lufe lelelly in fyne laute;
Gif I be set on hie intent
To win pryce or auancement,
Thairon suld na man think ferly,
Na speke thairof repreuabilly;
For this I dar weill say, I wys,
Quhen hart in lufe enamurit is,
That it wourthis suffer mony-fald
Baith ioy and sorow, heit and cald;

164

And I dar sueir that my ȝouthede
In sic poynt lufe hes gart me lede
That I had neuer ȝit loud na still
Na enchesone to schaw my will.
Gif I spak heir our opinly,
Meikly heir I cry mercy.”
“Fare lufe,” said Ydorus the gent,
“Spekis with mare auysement,
And lufe and keip thy lufe lelely,
For my hart hes thow vterly!”
“Dam,” said the King, “sa God me rede,
That had me leuer than ony mede!”
“Schir,” said the Bauderane, “be God of mycht,
Ȝe haue mare conquerit in ȝour richt
Than Priam in his distruction
Tynt, quhen distroyit was Ylion!”
“Schir,” said the King full courtasly,
“Richt thus mot fall ȝow haistaly!”
The Bauderane said, “at hir lyking
Me beheuffis be in alkin thing,
That hes my hart sa subtely
Wounded within me priualy
That it na wound na Ire may mak,
The quethir wele oft it garris me quaik.
Fell neuer sa fare to presoneir;
Of the disport that I haue heir,
Ȝe haue made me courtesly,
I loif my goddis soueranely.”

In Venus chalmer, that with gold fyne
Was carued with craft and with engyne,
Betuix thame fyue in cumpany
The ioy communit iolely.

165

Ilkane had lufe at thare deuys
Bot Fezonas, the fare and wys.
Scho had na lufe that for hir vailȝeit,
All-thocht sare hartis hir assailȝeit.
Bot scho was wyse and held hir still,
And wittandly couth couer hir will
Quhill lufe for his great courtasy
Ressauit hir in cumpany.

The Bauderane newit that gamyng agane,
And said, “schir King, it is nocht to lane.
We haue custume in my cuntre
That quhen men ar in Rialte
Thay suld nocht le, na ȝit le may,
Als far furth as thare wittis mycht say.
Alssone as thare souerane King
Hes askit ilkane ane asking,
Than will thay wit of his couine.
Ilk man askis him ane asking syne;
Quhethir men ask him foly or wit,
Till his intent he mon tell it.”
The King said, “Certis, I grant thair till.
Now askis on quhat euer ȝow will!”
The Bauderane said, “I ask ȝow heir,
For the great bounte ȝe bere,
That ȝow is chargit of rialte,
That ȝe but fenȝeing tell to me
Quhilk of thir tua maist ioy ȝow mais:
To sie fare Ydorus in the fais,
Throw quhom that fyne lufe ȝow distrenzeis,
Maisteris, commandis and restrenzeis,
Or than sueit thocht, but company,
Quhen ȝe think on hir anerly?”

166

“Shir,” said the King, “sa be I quit
Throw lufe that I indure for it,
Wele better and ofter it helpis me,
The amorous thochtis of that fre,
Than dois to behald on nere
In hir visage polist clere.
Thus may men preif ȝow sikkerly,
Quha sa couth say the ressoun quhy!”
The Bauderane said, “sa God me saif,
The ressoun quhy fane wald I haif.
For certis I wend witterly
That throw sweit blenking anerly
Wele mare alway ioy it is,
And mare comfort, ane thousand sis,
Than all the thochtis that thocht may be.”
“Schir,” said the King, “sa God me se,
Of ȝour will I grant apartly;
All grant I nocht vtterly.
May fall ȝe lufe on that manere;
Gif ȝe lufe sa, our lufes gais sere.
Now be it wele that ȝe lufe sua,
All vther wayes my lufe man ga.
Quhen I se hir forrow me,
That is fulfillit of all bounte,
And I behald hir colour cleir,
Hir hare, that to fyne gold is feir,
Hir cheke, hir chin, hir middle small,
Hir fare-hede and her fassoun all,
I am sa mouit throw that sicht
That I haue nouther strenth nor micht
To heir, to se, na ȝit to fele.
As man suld de, this wait I wele,

167

Thus am I stad before that fre,
For hir that all my lufe suld be.
Tharefore I say that behalding
Reuis luffaris ioy throw abasing.
And quhen that I am anerly
Into my chalmer all preualy
To think, vmbethinkand ledis me
Of hir that I here couth se,
That wyssyer without affray
I sall contene me wele alway,
And preuelly discouer hir till
All hale my stait, baith gud and ill;
Than I now think, and thinkis eft,
On hir that hes me resting reft,
And in my thocht I send hir baith
The ene of my hart, that showis raith
Hir fare cuming and hir ganging,
Hir sweit countenance and hir hauing.
The farrar that I fra hir be,
The farrer lufe distrenȝeis me.
Thusgate of me hapned is,
Thus haue I spent my time, I wis.”
The Bauderane said, “ȝe ar to trow,
And als ȝour skill is to allow,
For ȝe haue tald me wonder weill
All that I ȝarned, ilka deill.”
“Dame,” said the Bauderane, “now may ȝe
Ask ȝour intent and ȝour zele
At ȝour King, euer ilk deill,
For he can ressoun wonder weill;
Dame Fesonas, say on ȝour thocht!”
“Schir,” said that shene, “I gruge nocht.”

168

With that, sho dressed vp hir face,
That was wele colored at deuyce
And richt wele formit at all degre
To gar gay hart inamoured be.
“Fare, sweit shir,” said sho to the King,
“Say me the suth without lesing.
For the faith ȝe aw to bere
Ȝour men that ar about ȝow here,
And be ȝour croun that is hie,
I coniure ȝow that ȝe nocht le:
Quhat tua thingis makes ȝow maist lyking
Or confort, into leill lufing?”
“Fare,” said the King, “and I sall shaw,
Efter the wyt that I can knaw:
Hope and vmbethink ar the tua
That erest cumis confort to ma
Quhen I am dredand my mischeif
And my noyis, that ar sa greif.
For-thy of thame I loif me mare
Than of all that in amouris are.
Vmbethink helpis agane dispare;
Vmbethinking makis my body fare;
To play me with vmbethinking, I se
Hir fare semblance and hir bounte.
Quhen I am wraith, vmbethinking
Bringis me gude hope and comforting.
Quhen thir tua in my hart may be,
I am sa ioyfull alluterlie
That thare is nathing me to mufe,
For hope that I haue of my lufe.
Thusgate of lufe me leiris the play,
I dar this swere baith nicht and day.”

169

“Schir,” said that shene, “ȝe can richt wele
Record of lufe euerilk dele,
The stoundis, the shouris and the beit,
And baith the bitter and the sueit.”

Qvhen Fesonas had said hir lyking,
Than Ideas spak to the King,
Wysly at layser and at deuyse:
“Schir, sayis me,” said the madin of pryse,
“(Sa euer the trauell be ȝow quit
Of lufe, that ȝe indure for it!)
Quhat tua thingis dois ȝow to dre
Sorrow and pane (luke ȝe nocht le!)
In the mister of lufing
Or ellis in the following?”
“Dame,” said the King, “I will discouer
That I may in my wit recouer,
And gif I le, shent mot I be
Of lufe and of his maieste!
Ȝarning and rednes, thay tua,
Thay garris me neir out of wit to ga,
For oft-syse into byrning ȝarning
Me worthis betuix dede and deing,
Defendand me radnes to abyde,
That oft assailȝeis me on ilk syde.
Radnes me garris wene witterly
That I sall neuer win my drowry,
Nouther for gift nor for na seruyce,
Na for trauell with nane auyce,
Na win the ioy that lufe can geif,
In quhilk we se thir luferis leif.”
“Dame,” said the King, and sichit sere,
“I wat richt wele it is but were!”

170

In Venus chalmer, full of sweitnes,
With floures spred and with cypres,
On segis quhare silkis was nocht to seik,
Thir lele lufaris thare held thare speik.
The tua held court agane the thre,
With glaidschip, gamyn and with gle.
Mony demand thay askit that day;
The King hes thame assoilȝeit ay,
That was richt wyse and delyuerand,
Courtes, weill spokin and auenand.
The Bauderane, courtes and pledour,
To Ydorus with the fresch colour
He beheld and said, perfay,
“Dam, ȝe ar now to assay.
Now may ȝe ask him quhat ȝe will!”
Said Ydorus, “I grant thair-till.”
Than to the King scho lukit raith,
And callit him “lufe” and “lord” baith.
Scho ȝarnit to wit, at this asking,
How he of wit had warnessing:
“Lemman,” scho said, “be that fay
That thow to laute suld haue ay,
And to the ryell maieste,
And to thame that thow heir may se,
Thre thingis I pray the nemmin heir
Of quhilkis sum men in errour are:
Quhilk thre thingis are maist sufficiand
To lele lufe, and to hald lestand,
Or standis in to maist mister of luffing,
Or helpis best in the following
And maist mantemys it in vigour
And into strenth and honour?”

171

The King abased was and rad;
To mak ansuer great dout he had.
He was abased to say thare-till,
And shamefull for to hald him still;
And nocht-for-thy, full courtasly
He said, “swete hart, gay and ioly,
I am nocht all certane of this,
And mony ar als in dout, I wis;
Bot I sall say as sayes the autoures,
That of all wit war gouernoures,
That Philosophers and Dyuinours war.
God him-self, the lele luffar,
Beris witnes in lele lufing:
Wit suld be first at the beginning,
That kennis thame sua thare work to lere
That wicked tong na euill may dere.
Laute is the tother, I wis,
That garris it lest and leif in blis.
Heling is left, that kepis it weill
Fra all persauing ilka deill,
And fra thare fallonis that dois luffaris
Mony noyis on sere maneris.
Thir thre ar the vertewis, I wis,
That maist of strenth and vertew is
For to sustene the branches wele
Of lufe, and keip thame stith as stele.
Quha better can, I pray him say!
Here sall na wrath be, na ȝit deray.
Bot thusgate sayis our antecessouris
Of all science and doctouris.”

Amang thame fast they playit and leuch,
With gammin and delyte aneuch.

172

Thare acquentance richt courtesly
Thay made amang thame freindfully.
Of amours lukes, richt ampill sent,
And of sichis distrenȝement,
In depe hart that siched raith,
With party thochtis, ioyfull and wraith,
Thay had plente forout sparing;
Of sik thing had thay na wanting.
The Bauderane was in sik presoun
That he may se all at bandoun
Sik ane merour before his face,
Fulfilled of ioy and of solace:
Small with ressoun and schapin wele,
All growen of new ilka dele,
With armes fare and lely lyre,
Hir hare as gold, with visage fyre,
Gracius, glaid and plesand,
Debonare, sueit and auenand.
The Bauderane mare esy is
Than is Clarus of Inde, I wis,
That for his mischeif maid his mane;
His men about him saw he slane.
Before his tent he lichtit tit,
And asked gif his sonnes wer cumin ȝit.
“Schir,” said ane chyld, “men hes me tald
That thay haue vennisoun thik-fald
Takin, for to charge ane chare.
Here at our hand thay cumin are,
Blyth and glaid and richt ioly.
Thay wat nocht of our cheualry.”
Quhen Clarus hard that, he was wraith.
With that, Marciane was cumin raith,

173

Soroufull and wa, with the Bauderanes,
Medeus and Synodus aganes,
With sorrow and cry makand thare mane,
For thay wend that thare lord was slane,
For Cassamus him gaif sik pay
That he vpon his arsoun lay.

The folk of Bauderis lichtit doun
Before Clarus pauillioun,
For thare lord sorowfull, that was tane,
For thay weind he had bene slane
With the strakes that he ȝude,
That Cassamus him gaif full rude,
That gart him on his arsoun ly,
Maugre his hede, all dissaly;
Than thay of Arabe and Calde
Send him takin in the Cite,
Tharefore his men war all sa wa
That nerehand out of wit thay ga.
To Clarus than spak Marciane,
“Schir, we ar cumin to ȝow to plane
Of the defoull and the outraying
That we haue tholit at this ishing.
Ȝour men defoulit ar and slane,
And Cassiell alsua is tane.
I had bene slane withoutin faill—
I was sa sted in the battaill—
Na war he, with sword in hand,
Come for to make me warrand.
Now tak this counsell amang vs all
How his delyuerance best may fall!”
“Freind,” said Clarus, “lat be thy mane!
Thocht ȝon men haue the Bauderane tane

174

And led him in thare palais,
Thare he lauches, gammis and playis
With his lemmen, dame Ideas,
With Idorus and dame Fesonas,
That to lufe me dedenȝeis nocht;
Scho lattis of me, as sho na rocht!
All at eis is the Bauderane,
Thow nedes for him mak na mane!”

“Eme,” said Marciane, “be still!
Ȝe haue answered wonder ill.
Great ill fallis of villanes speik,
And gude of courtes and of meik.
Speke courtesly and leif sic fare!
Me think that ȝe amouit are.
Gif thay that of fer landis sere
Be cumin in ȝour helping here
To proue thare micht, thare gud to spend,
Thare worshep and manhed to amend,
Throw thare worshep ar tane in stour
Hyeand and cressand ȝour honour,
Ȝe suld haue lufe wele mare, I wis,
Than Porrus, that ȝour awin sone is.
I haue great radnes at this were
Sall turne to war than it was ere.
Ȝe sall haue mister of helping
Gif that I euer knew any thing.
The King of Massidone, I wys,
That of this warld nere lord is,
Is ludged ȝonder beȝond Pharoun
To help Gaudefere and Betoun.
Delyuer the Bauderane, gif ȝe may!
And gif thare wrath be or deray,

175

Mak him ȝour freind and ȝour preue;
Thusgates suld gud men treatit be.
To fleme thare awin men, oft-sys
Tynsall fallis in mony wys.
With-haldis ȝour freinds with ȝow all
And honour thame, baith great and small,
And hechtis and geues thame largely!
Sa sall men lufe ȝow certanely,
And ay to ȝour auancement
Sall thay haue hart, will and talent.
Throw strang men ar men succured in feild?
Of gud nichtbour the wyse makes sheild;
And thusgates sall ȝe wele trow
This counsell is maist for ȝour prow.”

Clarvs said, “fare, sueit cousing,
I haue hard all thy carping.
Bot I will do thairof na thing.
Lo thare shortly thy answering!”
With this, thay lichtit on the grene
The Kingis sonnes, at the hunting had bene.
All four lichtit, thir bacheleris,
With bow and brais, as fallis huntaris.
Before thame all came Caneus,
Syne Caleos, Salphadyn and Porrus.
Porrus was ȝongest of thame all,
And maist douchty of thame, great and small.
He was michty and staluart to stand,
And hardy als of hart and hand,
And sikker of hart withouttin faill,
And to endure that great battaill.
Best of his brether he couth him steir
At melle, quhan that mister wer,

176

Stryke with sword and couer him with sheld
And gar ane steid start in the feld,
And was wele taucht in all hauing,
And sweit in courage in all thing;
Bot he was nocht sa fare, suthly,
That men bird speke of him greatly,
For he was broun, rede in visage.
Bot of body he was na page,
His lymmes war baith great and square;
For his meiknes men lufit him mare;
With vther gude that God him gaif,
Courtessy was nocht to craif.

Qvhen Clarus saw him cummand ner,
He blenked on him, on this maneir
That he dedenȝeit nocht to behald
Nane of his sonnes, nouther ȝong nor ald.
He said him, “fallow, can thow nocht blaw
Ane horne, and set thy settis on raw,
Vncuppill thy houndis and gaming ma?
Quhen vther folk to battell can ga,
Than fleis thow to wod to gamin,
To sport the and thy hounds samin.
Of cowart that is richt, but fale,
That dar nocht luke on the battale,
The great enforce, na here the noys
Na se assembling of the groys!”
“Schir,” said Porrus, “sa God me se!
Bot I gab, I hope that we
Sall cum in tyme for to assay
Our worshep, preue how-euer we may.
Is nocht ȝon Alexander that is thare
Ludged beȝond the water of Fare?

177

With the oist of Grece, that riall is,
And thame of Massidone, I wis?
Gif I knaw ocht or euer kend,
This battale mon this weir tak end.
The assaltis count I na thing,
Ȝit prys I les this rioting.
Quhen we war at the wod to play,
We wist na thing of ȝour deray.
In pauillions ay will we nocht be,
We man sum tyme to gamming and gle;
And ȝe suld nocht sa largely
Call vs cowardis but ȝe wist quhy.
Now is the Bauderane tane in hand,
All may I nocht be his warrand;
Bot gif that I may dais thre
Leif, and syne God wald help me,
Ȝit sall I athir wyn or tyne!”
With that, ane horne of ebor fyne
And his swerd hes he fra him done,
And Marciane he callit sone.
“Marciane,” said Porrus the fare,
“Thow art annoyit on grit manere.
Me think thow art of pure purches
To help thy freind that mister hes.
Quhen that disconfort is in him done,
He is shent and discumfit sone.
Set all to all, I pray it the,
Or thow now disprysit be!
Great ferly oft fallis in were, I wis.
Quhyle men chaissis and quhyle chaissit is.
Ane day men takis, ane vther, is tane.
Of weir cumis peax quhen weir is gane.

178

Ane riche man that worth is ocht,
Suld nocht be moued in dede na thocht,
Na be our sorrowfull for na thing,
Na be our ioyfull for na winning,
Bot in ane poynt ay glaid and blyth,
For making of gude cheir oft suyth
Confoundis his fais and confortis his.
Quha is courtes and meik, I wis,
He may find now plente
To saue his honour and his countre.
Gif my father, that hes vs to lede,
War gude in manere and in deid,
He suld haue fele wourthy,
Weill luffand, stout and hardy;
Bot his felony him schentis all.
Now mon we fecht, baith great and small,
With Alexander, King of Damas,
As I hope, in to ane litill space,
And sum of vs will say perfay,
And my-self oft hes hard thame say:
‘Sall we ga slay ws for ȝone man,
That reiffis ws all that euer he can,
Disheresis vs and reiffis our gude?
We aucht hait him in mane and mude.’
Sic thing as this hes discumfit
Thare hartis all hale, quha may thame wyt.
Thus ar thare hartis deid ilkane
That thare chiftane is tane or slane.
Quhen lord of hart is large and fre,
Large and courtes and hes pietie,
And he anoyit beis of his skaith,
Hardy, lele and luffand baith—

179

Than is ane worth vther tua,
Quhen lord has nede agane his fa.
War my fader sik as I say,
Him durst lytle drede ȝon great deray.
Bot with his men he hated is,
That sall him serue of sic seruis.
He is in point now for to tyne,
Him-self and his four sonnes fyne,
Or than to haue great skaith or shame
Quhen he and his ar fleand hame.
Sa dois he nocht that ȝarning hes
For to haue victory of his faes.
Ane King is but ane man, I wis,
And sone disconfit is fra his
Quhen he is left at grit mistere
And fleis ilk man on sydes sere.”

“Porrvs,” said Marciane of Pers,
“Lat be! it helpis nocht ȝe rehers.
Gif the Bauderane, lord of Medy,
Be tane throw his cheualry,
Tak we counsell to help him sone!
Se certanely that it be done,
All be it agane Clarus will!
I red nocht that we hald vs still.
Send efter thy brether thre
And byd thame cum and speke with me!”
Porrus hes send ane squyer sone,
And thay ar cumin withouttin hone.
Caneus ȝede first into the tent,
Syne Salphadyne, fare and gent,
Syne Caleos, prince of Amory,
That was fetas, gay and ioly.

180

“Lordingis,” sayis Porrus, “here me!
Cassiell is tane throw his bounte;
Thay of Effesoun hes him led
As thare presoner in thare sted.
Quhether I say foly or wit,
I will be trew answer to it.
To-morne airly in the morning,
Ane lytle forrow the Sone rysing,
Besyde the See, at the brasin ȝet,
Thidderwart will I ta my gait,
With xxx fallowis withouttin ma;
And ȝe sall in the bushment ga
With cccc. that hes habersounes,
With helmes, sheilds and pennounes,
And in the forrest of Daurere.
Sa knaw I Betys and Gaudefere
That thay will ishe furth to vs sone;
And we sall fle withoutin hone
Quhill we cum to our Bushment nere;
And ȝe with displayit banere
Sall ishe to thame apartly,
In middes the visage hardely.
My father Clarus sall assale
On ather half with his battale,
At the ȝet quhare the barreris hewin is.
This sall we do forsuith, I wis,
Be assailȝeing on tuin partis;
So sall we win on sumkin wis.”
Quod Caneus, “brother, I me consent!
Thow spekes richt wele to mine intent.”
Than was that iorney thame amang
Vndertane and sworne with aithis strang.

181

Thairin thare was ane chyld that playit
At skirming and himself assayit,
That was borne in Garantere
And was kynsman to Gaudefere.
Quhen that he hard the counsall hale
Of thir fyue that war stith in stale,
He thocht that it suld sone be tald
To Cassamus de Laris, the ald.
For the lufe of Gaudefere
He will be spy into this were.

Qvhen he had herd all thare intent
And the deuysing of thare bushment,
And how the pray suld sesit be
At the ȝet, and with quhat menȝe,
To draw furth Gaudefere and Betys
And ald Cassamus de Larys,
And how on vther syde suld assale
Clarus with all his great battale—
To himself than said he sone,
“But I thame warne, it war euill done!”
Delyuerly ishit he of the tent
And slely to the toun he went.
Tharein he entred throw the ȝet,
To Cassamus he tuke the gate,
And fand him sittand at the stare
To pas to Alexander de Lare,
To tell him tydingis of Clarus,
Of Marciane and of Porrus.
By the sleif he hes him tane,
And tald him all, by him allane,
Of thare bushment and thare cuming,
Of Clarus sonnes, the ald King.

182

“Schir,” said the child, “I aucht richt wele
To tell ȝow thare entent ilk deill,
For I am borne of Massony,
That ȝouris suld be of antecessory.
To-morne airly, is nocht to lane,
Clarus four sonnes sall mak ane trane,
And vthir sall in buschment byde,
Four houndreth at the woddis syde,
To draw furth Gaudifere and Betys.”
“Brother,” said Cassamus de Larys,
“I compt nocht all thare schore ane hare!
Now will I our Pharone fare
To Alexander the empriour,
And tell him all the tallis this hour.”
“Brother,” said Cassamus the hare,
“Now will I our Pharone fare,
And Gaudifere sall with me ga,
With Alexander ane quentance to ma,
And of thy travale, wit thow weill,
I sall the quyte euer ilk deill.”
With that, thare boit begouth to ga
And our Pharoun thay rowit sa,
Syne our [the] steppis hand in hand
Thay clam; and thare ane rod thay fand
That to the hoste thame led full richt,
That fast war lugeand thame, I hecht.
Cassamus lukit on ilka syde
And mony pauillion of mekill pryde
He saw standand, and mony ane steid
That war arrayit in riche weid,
Mony helme and mony blasoun,
Mony spere and mony pennoun.

183

Of this Gretians noblenes
Micht na man euin the riches.
Bot thay war few, I vnderstand;
They war nocht passand ten thousand.
Gaudefere him followit than,
And said, “fare eme, quhair is the man
That suld cum for to help vs here
In fecht quhan that we haue mistere?”

Said Cassamus, “sueit cousing,
Here ludgeand thame on this maring!”
“Fair eme,” said Gaudefere the fre,
“I dar nocht deme that sic menȝe
That ar sa few into my sicht,
Ar sa gude weriouris and sa wicht.”
“Be God,” said Cassamus the ald,
“Thay ar baith hardy, stout and bald,
Smart, delyuer, worthy and wicht,
For-out affray, suthly I hecht;
And they haue sic ane lord with-all
That fare and blythly will thame call,
And honour thame in alkin thing,
But pryde, dedenȝe or outtraying;
And geues thame steidis and fare Palfrayes,
Runseis, Coursouris and Haiknayes,
Hechtis and geuis without sparing
Gud and treasour and vther thing,
And quhan that he cumis to the assay,
His men sa sweitly can he pray
That ilk man preissis to further and fill
His honour baith with dede and will,
That na man forsakes na kynde of thing,
Fra thay se it be his lyking.”

184

Quod Gaudefere, “men suld had dere
Sik lord and dout on great manere.
With him wald I richt glaidly speke
That slew my father; me bird him wreke!”
Said Cassamus, “sone, I the pray
For to obey, all that thow may,
Alexander the nobill King,
That cummis here in thy helping
To fecht for the with ald Clarus,
That wald disheris the and vs.
Refrenȝe, sone, thy matelent!
Throw pure pryde ar mony shent.
Thow may na thing ingreif the King,
And he may help the in mekill thing.
Forȝet thy fathers dede, I rede!
Outtragius hardement made his dede;
Gif that he wald haue tane his way
As vthers did, I hard wele say,
He micht haue cumin to Gaderis wele,
Maugre the chaissaris ilka dele.
Wit thow that he was stith in stour,
Wicht and hardy of great valour!
He wend allanerly him allane
Wincus the chaissaris euerilk ane
And all the flearis to warrand.
This was richt hard to tak on hand!
Thocht that him slew Emynedus,
Ferly was nane; he slew Pyrrus,
His nece air, lord of Montflour,
That maist suld mantene his honour.
His sister sone was that Bachlere,
Ane nobill man and wicht in were.

185

The King said syne, in amending,
That dede for dede suld by passing.”
Said Gaudefere, “I grant thairto.
As ȝe me ordane, I sall do!”
Throw out the hoste Cassamus rade,
Gaudefere by the hand he had;
Richt to the Kingis pauillioun
Thay raid, and thare thay lichted doun.
Alexander vnder ane thorne thay fand
Sittand at the ches playand
With ane Sarasyne, that Candas
The Quene had sent fra Damas.
Gaudefere halsit courtesly
The King, and Cassamus inclynit in hy.
Alexander blenkit vp on this wys
And knew Cassamus de Laris,
And by the skirt him hint but let,
And by him-self hes him set,
And wele mare ioy he made him syne
Than cousine suld do to cousine.
He askit than of Clarus efferes
And of his couen and of his weres.
That ald tald him alluterly
The Bauderanes taking halely,
And of thame that war slane or dede
At the assaying of thare stede.
“Cassamus,” said the King, “perfay,
Into short tyme, gif that I may,
With ten thousand of nobill men,
Sik ane lessoun I sall him ken
That he agane in Inde wald be,
Quhare of vermine is great plente!”

186

Alexander made great solas
To Cassamus, that thare was
Glaid and ioyfull and richt mery,
And of his eld cant and ioly.
“Gude Cassamus,” said the King,
“Sit doun and tell me sum tithing
Of Clarus and his sone Porrus,
And of the Bauderane and Caneus,
Of Marciane and Cassarus
And the auld Antigorus,
And of the tua cousingis alsua,
And of Fesonas and Ydea,
And of Ydorus, the fare of face!
Of thame ay spekis Floridas;
He sais thay ar his cousingis neir,
Antigorus dochteris deir.”
“SCHIR,” said Cassamus, “alsone
Ȝe sall wit all that we haue done:
To-day in the morning airly,
Of Effezone we went in hy,
With cccc. on hors, I hecht,
Weill armyt and clenly dicht.
We prikit amang the pauillonis
Or euer arrayit war the barronis.
Antigorus is slane and dede
With speris and suordis in that stede.
Sa fand we in our hame-cuming
The toun in great barganyng.
Thare layit on vs thay of Medy
And thay of Inde and Pincarny;
Thare worthit vs defend or assale,
And win entre with great battale.

187

In that stede was the Bauderane tane;
Bot vther presoun hes he nane
Bot Wenus chalmer, quhairin he is
In ioy and gammin and in blis,
With my cousine, dame Fesonas,
And his lemman, dame Ideas.
Now hes Porrus and Marcien
Takin counsell with thare men
That to-morne at the port Iuore
Thay will ane bushment mak preue,
And gadder to thame all our pray
And gar vs ishe out of array.
Gentill King, be it ȝour will,
Gif vs ȝour gud counsell thare till,
And of ȝour best men len vs sum,
To wait the tyme quhen thay will cum,
For ours are wonded and traualed
And wery, sen thay war assayled!”
The King said, “gud shir, ȝe sall haue
Als mony as ȝe sall efter craue!”
“SCHIR,” said Cassamus the ald,
“Of Clarus sonnes now haue I tald,
Of thare counsell and of thare ordaning,
How thay to-morne in the morning
Sall set ane bushment to our ȝet
And tak our pray, syne ga thare gate
For to luke gif that thay may
Gar vs prik at thame at deray.
We are few men and armit ill;
Len vs of ȝouris quhat ȝe think skill!”
“Cassamus,” said the King, “perde,
Thow sall haue anew plente!

188

Bot quhat chyld be that, the by,
That salust me sa courtesly?”
“Schir, it is Gaudefere my neuow,
That to plenȝe, shir, cumis to ȝow
Of ald Clarus and his menȝe,
That hes assegit his citte
And wald him do great outrage,
And chase him out of his heritage,
And haue the wench agane hir will.”
“Trewly,” the King said, “he dois ill.
Ȝit, quhen he had serued hir lelely
And throw fare seruis and courtessy
And throw fare semblance and franchys,
To pleis hir in all thing at deuys,
Gif that he micht encheue sa
For to encheif or purpose ta,
Outher in part or ilka dele—
Me think than had he sped richt wele!
Bot he is wicked, fals and ill,
And of ane hie, fell, wicked will.
Bot gif that I vii days may be
Leuand and syne God help me,
In vther places worthis him to harbry
Or ellis meikly to ask mercy!”
“Schir, he hes first,” quod Gaudefere,
“Destroyit our landis with his were;
And alsua of my fatheris dede
We ar annoyit and will of rede,
For quhill he leuit, the auld Clarus
Durst neuer come to were on vs,
But alssone as he was dede,
He shupe to were this on our stede.

189

Full yllare haill [we] saw the pryde
And the assemble, in the tyde
At the wall of Iosaphas
Throw ȝour knychtis forrait was!”
And with that word fast sichit he.
Alexander had great pitie,
And said, “Gaudifere de Laris,
Be my deir mother Olimpys,
Of thy fatheris dede am I
Sorofull in hart and richt sory;
For the it sall amendit be
Gif I leif lang in liege pouste;
And alsua God hes send vs heir
The best that euer armes may bere.
Throw him ȝour fais salbe greuit,
Ȝour freindis honourit and releiuit.
And als ȝe wait richt weill but faill,
Quhen men cumis armit in battale,
Sum men may tyne, quha euer it be,
As happinnis throw distane.
Had Gaudefere slane Emynedus thare,
My hart it wald haue mislykit sare,
Bot tharfore suld nane euill will
Be schauin in hart, nouther loud na still.
Wmbethink the, schir, of honeste,
Of wirship, honour and bounte!
Tak not the dedis that passit are
Heuy in hart hyne forther mare!
Mais freinship with gude hart and will!
And I abandoun heir ȝow till
My body and my rialte
Quhill ȝe of Clarus vengit be!”

190

“Schir,” said Gaudifeir, “ȝour meiknes,
Ȝour courtasy and ȝour largnes
Is bot mesure; that wait men weill.
I sall do as ȝe deim, ilk deill!”
“Freind,” said the King, “that lykis me,
And thairof greatly thank I the!”
The King made ioy and solace
To Cassamus, that wourthy was,
And als to Gaudifere the ȝing:
“Vassale,” he sais, “haue na dreiding
The manassing of auld Clarus
Na ȝit of his sone Porrus!
For, gif I leif in liege pouste,
Thow sall of him weill vengit be,
And thow sall serue ws with gude will.”
Said Gaudifere, “baith loud and still,
Wpone the best wyse that I may!”
“Sic seruice,” said the King, “perfay,
Is gude and thankfull, that sa sone
Is foroutin dangere done;
And quhen men seruis on sik manere,
The lord sould be gude guardonere,
And manteine richt weill to the end,
And largely gif and dispend,
And be gude fallow in company,
Full of myrth, glaid and ioly.
This makis wourthy men, I wis,
And thusgait wourship nurist Is
Nocht to defoull, na be felloun,
Na disheris but enchesoun.”
“Lo heir gude fallow,” said the ald,
“And gude lord als, baith stout and bald!”

191

Than leuch the King richt mirrelly,
And lauchand said thame Iolely,
“Ȝe ar richt welcum, be Marcus!”
“And ȝe wele foundit!” said Cassamus.
Than leuch thay all, baith gud and ill,
And loued Cassamus baith loud and still.

Vith that, ane squyer went and tald
To Emynedus the bald
That the ald man with the hare berd,
That the mekill hude werd
And the mekill burdene bare,
That was sa mekill, great and square,
Was at the Kingis pauillioun,
And Gaudefere of Effesoun,
That was gay and richt ioyus
And of all fassoun richt fetus,
With fare visage and sum dele rede;
The hare lyke crisp was on his hede.
“The King him makes richt fare calling,
And of ȝow tua makes according
Of Gaudeferes father de Laris,
That was sa worthy, wicht and wis;
And the chyld profers him his cite
And all the landis he haldis in fe,
His body, his seruis and his micht,
To work his will baith day and nicht.”
Emynedus said, “now will we
Ga se him that we ȝarned to se,
And gif God grantis throw his pouste,
We sall richt wele accordit be!”

Qvhen Emynedus the bald
Hard tell tythingis of the ald,

192

That cummin was Gaudefere
Of Effesoun, the bachlere,
The quhilk he wald richt blythly se,
His fallowis to him than callit he
And asked thame how that he micht
Pleis the chyld be ony richt,
To be his freind without fantyse.
Said Lycanor, “to myne auyse,
Ȝe speik richt wele and wittelly.
To honour him is courtessy.”
Than sichit the duke and thocht a stound,
And said he wald on kneis found,
To proffer hartfully him till
His help, his seruice, with hart and will,
In amendis of ald done dede.
Twelue feiris will he with him lede,
Bareshank but belt, in kirtill alane,
And thare swordis suld euerilk ane
Hald be the pointis, and say him syne,
“‘Schir, tak amendis at ȝour lyking!’”
Thay answered that thame thocht richt wele
It war to do euer ilka dele:
“Wele worth the hart quhen sic bounte
Is set and ane hie renoune!”
Than callit the duke quhom he sa wald,
In tale tweluesum wer thay tald;
Be the pointis thare swordis, I wis,
Thay held ilkane; that takin is
Outher of dede or than mercy.
All that euer sawe thame, halely
Ferleid on thame, ilk man,
And said all into common than,

193

“That is wonder great ferly
That sa riche and sa mychty
As he, amendit sic ane thing
Quhare were askis na mending.”
Vther answered, that by thame stude,
And said, “it come him of gude
And of wonder great franchis
That in his hart ay nurist is,
And, for that he but fenȝeing
Wald haue had of Gaudefere lele lufing,
He contenis him sa, I wis,
And dois that his worship is.”

Emynedvs was gratius,
Gentill, fre and cur[ag]ius,
And of body worthy and wicht,
And wonder forsy into ficht.
For to se Gaudefere the ȝing
He had wonder great ȝarning,
And for his frenship ȝarned he
Hartfully his freind to be.
With his tuelfe feires he went;
To honour him is his intent.
Barefut thay went, with hedes bare,
In kirtill allane forouttin mare;
Richt to the Kingis pauillioun
Thay went all furth in ane randoun.
Quhen Alexander thame saw, I hecht
He had ferly of that sicht,
Quhill he vmbethocht him at the last,
And in his hart cleirly can cast,
That it was done for Gaudefere
De Laris, the bachelere,

194

And als that he wald hartfully
Accord with his sone wilfully.
Cassamus by the sleif he tuke
And shewit him the douzepeiris and the duke,
And the nobill humilite
That he begouth, he leit him se;
And the gude man ansuered raith,
That was richt wyse and subtell baith,
And said, “shir, God wat he payis his richt
And that hes he wele lerit, I hecht.
Ane wicked man wald wene full sone
He had bene shent, had he ȝon done,
And be ȝon semis richt wele that he
Of wit hes ȝarnessing plente,
And ȝon is proffeit and honour,
Worship also and valour!”
“Be all our Goddis,” than said the King,
“In this prouerb is na lesing,
Na he dois gud that gud is,
The wicked ay the worst, I wis;
And worthy men aucht wele to be
Honoured and worshipped ay in laute.”

Befoir the King of Greces tent,
The douzepeiris with ane assent
Assembled with Emynedoun,
That formest ȝeid, and syne Lyoun,
Arreste syne and Perdicas,
Tholomere, Dauclene and Floridas.
Emynedus spak with simpill chere,
And asked, quhilk was Gaudefere,
“That I haue ȝarned for to se?”
Said Alexander, “ȝon is he,

195

That standis with ȝon furred mantill!”
Emynedus than ȝeid him till,
Fell doun on kneis richt hastelly
And proffered him his sword in hy.
Quhen he had quit him, I wis,
With all his Goddis and with his,
That he suld with his body do
His will, quhat euer it turned to,
To leif or de or to presoun,
Than cryit the folk with ane soun,
“Forgif Emynedus the gude!”
The chyld ashamed quhare he stude,
For the dukes humilite
And for thame that he can se.
He was ȝong, courtes and wicht,
Ane forsy man of mekill micht.
Emynedus by the hand he tuke,
And lichted als lichtly the duke,
Quhare that he knelit him beforne,
As he had bene ane barne new borne.
“Schir,” said the child, “ȝour bounte,
Ȝour franchis and ȝour humilite
Hes slokned all my syte to-day.
I grant ȝow heir for euer and ay
My lufe, but fantyse, loud and still,
My body, my gudis at ȝour will!”
Emynedus said, “this bounte
Sall wele be quit ȝow, sa God me!
Ȝour worschip sall I eke in hy
With all the land of Tabory
That I wan fra Amyragon,
That held of Inde and Amoron

196

Ane great pagane; thare-in was borne
Ȝour gude antecessoures ȝow beforne.
And I sall gif ȝow ane wyfe, I wis,
The farest thing that formit is,
Elydan, myne awin cousine dere,
Pyrrus sister, withouttin were,
That ȝour father in Gaderis slew;
Thare dyit ma men na anew!
Now sall we freinds be hartfully.”
Gaudefere thankit him greatly.
Cassamus for pete gret,
And knelit doun forouttin let,
And thankit the duke richt courtesly;
And he him raisit sone in hy.

Befoir the King of Grecis tent
This peax was made with ane assent,
Of duke Emynedus the wicht,
That forsy was in feild to fecht,
And of Gaudefere, I wis,
That lord and sire of Calde is.
The King sat on ane cod, I hecht,
And Cassamus sat by him richt.
The laue of barrouns, on the grene
He gart thame halely sit bedene.
“Schir,” said that ald, “it is wele lait,
And it is tyme to ga our gait.
Now hamewart to our men will we,
For dout that thay affrayit be.
Thay will ishe blythly to the scry
To stanche thare faes, bot nocht-for-thy
Thay ar nocht armed wele at richt,
And hes bot few hors on to fecht.

197

Syr, it is maist traistfull that we
And thay to-gidder auysit be.”
“Cassamus,” said the King in hy,
“Thow sais richt weill and wittely.
With the sall thow lede, I wis,
Of my men that best armyt is,
And thay that wysest is of weir
And horsit best for that effere.”
Than Arreste said to the King,
“Schir, I haue hors at ȝour lyking,
And haubrek that is sikker and clene,
Baith helm and scheild that schyins schene.
In all gerdoun I pray that ȝe
Me leif to pas to that melle!”
“Arreste,” sais the King sa kene,
“Ȝit is nocht helit, as I wene,
The woundis that thow in Gaderis tuke.”
“Ȝis, schir,” he sais, “be Goddis buke,
Thay ar weill lang syne hale and feir.
I wald, gif that ȝour willis weir,
Gang se the semble of the fecht;
This pray I ȝow with all my mycht.
I sall do weill as I haue thocht!”
Said Alexander, “I grounch it nocht!”
“Schir,” said Perdicas, “for ȝour valour
And ȝour wirship and ȝour honour,
And for ȝour mekill courtasy,
Lat me ga se that barny
Of thame of Inde and of Baudare
And the thre ladeis that ar sa fair,
Ydory and Ydeas
And fair dame Fezonas!

198

To se thare solace and thare play
Is great delyte, as I heir say,
And gif I to Effezon ga
To se the fecht, I vnderta
My suerd sall better be, I wis,
That now all our roustit is!”
The King said, “Perdicas, perfay,
Be my faith and be this day,
Be Neptune, Mars and Iupiter,
And be the faith I aucht to bere
To my mother Olimphias,
That is sa fare of fax and face—
He that prays me, he sall nocht ga!
Thame that I will, this poynt sall ma.
The laif with me sall byde all still.”
Than war thay Ioyus, baith gude and ill.
He lukit about baith heir and thare,
And sone persauit he be his fare
That Caulus wald richt blythly ga.
“Wassell,” he said, “gif it be sua
That thow dar pas the great passage
Of Pharone and the great riuage,
And se the touris of the citie
And the madinnis that ar sa fre,
Lift vp thyne ene, gif thow dar fare
To ȝone citie—ȝouris that wourthy are,
To se gif thay can wapnes weld!”
“Schir,” said Caulus, “God ȝow forȝeld!
I had leuer ga se that were
Na be callit King Tholomere!
I sall se the rowtis ride
That thay can mak on athir syde,

199

And quhat Clarus can, I wis,
And Porrus als, that his sone is;
And his cheualry may betyde
To faill ane party of thare pryde!
My sheld is bendit ilka dele,
My sword is gude and forgit wele,
And my steid is weill steirand,
Staluart and swyft and weill at hand.”
“Caulus,” said the nobill King,
“Thow art happy in mekill thing,
Courtes and meik in cumpany,
And in battell stout and hardy!”
Quhen the King had said him sa,
He lenit on him and lukit him fra,
Glaid and ioly and full of blis.
The barnage hale of Grece, I wis,
He saw stand at his feit.
Courtesly with wordis sweit,
“Lordingis,” he said, “ane hundreth sys
I thank ȝow of ȝour good seruis,
Of landis, honour and of feis,
Of riches, rentis and of citeis,
That I throw ȝow hes wonnen, I wis,
Quhair-throw that I sa heyit is.
For throw ane it is nocht, perde!
I aucht thareof nocht loued be.
I am nocht bot ane persoun heir,
Lytill and euill made; but ilkane seir
Ar fundin ay douchty at the preif.
Now lykis it God I am ȝour cheif,
Bot to ȝow all, baith samyng and seir,
I hecht, quhethir I be hyne or heir,

200

That but ȝow sall I neuer, [I] wis,
Haue eis na ioy, myseis na blis.
To talk with ȝow me sall be leif,
Quhidder God sendis cheif or myscheif!”
Said Tholomere, “shir, wit ȝe wele
That ȝour great worship euer ilk dele
Hes vs effered on sic manere
That neuer mare in peax na were
Nane sall for ȝow refusit be
Trauell, thocht it be great to se.
For ȝe sa wyse ar and worthy,
And sa fulfillit of courtessy,
That ȝe serue to haue full wele
All that euer may be done ilka dele.
Ane lord makes worthy men, I wis,
Or ellis sum folk begylit is!
Now may ȝe gif richt largely,
For winning salbe hastelly
All hale Clarus possessioun,
Gif that we pas may Pharoun!”
Said Cassamus, “sa God me rede!
Of that passage I haue na drede!”
Said Alexander, “thareof am I
Glaid, ioyfull and Ioly!”

“Cassamvs,” said the King, “als sone
“Thow sall ga hame withouttin hone,
And with the gang sall Perdicas,
Caulus, Arreste and Floridas,
And Lyoun als sall with the wend.
Sic succours to the sall I send,
Be all our goddis, thame I wald nocht leis
For ane thousand gude citeis!

201

Ȝit sall I do the mare nor this:
I haue ingynes and rapes, I wis,
To auale hors, I vnderta.
Tak the ane thousand, thow sall haue ma!”
“Mekill thank!” said Cassamus,
“Bot we haue hors tharein with vs
Fastly anew for four thousand.”
Than tuke thay leif and vp thay stand;
The King thame leued and halsed thame raith.
To Gaudefere than said he laith,
“Thow sall grete wele dame Fesonas,
Idorus and dame Ideas,
And on my behalf thow sall thame say
That for thare sake, gif that I may,
Sall the Pharoun passed be
Of all my menȝe and of me.”
“I am abandoned,” said Gaudefere,
“To wirk ȝour will baith far and nere!”
The King enbraissed him in hy,
And he inclyned full courtasly.
Than went he furth withouttin mare,
And all his fallowes that war thare.

Now Gaudefere gais his way in hy,
And fyue fallowes in cumpany,
Caulus, Arreste and Perdicas,
Lyonell and Floridas;
And to Emynedus ar thay gane,
And courtesly thare leif hes tane.
And he inclyned than in hy,
And leued thame richt courtesly,
And syne to Gaudefere said he,
“Wele sone agane we sall ȝow se,

202

And all gude cunnandis, gif God will,
We sall ȝow hald and wele fulfill.
I sall the giue Elyadoun the fre,
And Tabory als haue sall ȝe.
Than sall ȝe and I and Betis
Accordit be without fantis.
Ȝe sall grete wele the maydinis all,
And on my behalfe say thame ȝe sall
That we sall challenge thame fra Clarus
And alsua fra his sone Porrus!”
With that, thay turned and ȝeid thare gate—
Cassamus led thame to the bate—
And ȝeid endlang the steppis doun.
Ane mariner had thame ouer Pharoun,
And arryued vnder the toun,
Richt at the port of Perroun.

The Barrounes ished out of the bate;
Cassamus led thame on the gate.
The citizens thame honored fast;
And as thay throw the citie past,
Thay beheld the toures and the hallis,
The castellis, housis and the wallis.
The tydingis come to the chalmer Venus,
Quhare Fesonas and Idorus
Leuch and playit, for Ideas
Of the Bauderane amoured was.
It was ane ill of ieloussy
That Fesonas had sa fellony
That all ane quhyle be sho not hale.
Ane squyer to thame tald this tale,
That thay of Grece was cummand, I wis,
That worthyest in worship is;

203

Thay ar fyue fallowes of valour,
Fulfillit of worship and honour.
Quhan the maydinnes hard, I hecht
Ioyfull thay war with hartis licht,
And furth of the chalmer ar thay went;
To honour thame is thare intent.

Of the chalmer ishit the cumpany;
Betys ȝeid first and Idory;
Aganes the knichtis of Grece, I wis,
Thay ȝeid blythly and full of blis.
Betys led Idorus the fre,
And sweitly to hir prayit he;
And sho him grantis his will party,
Bot I say nocht alluterly.
The Bauderane led dame Fesonas,
Haldand hir hand, that fetas was.
All war him leuer haue had the last,
Him worthit thole, all greuis it fast.
His ene beheld hir that he led;
All was his hart in vther sted.
Of amouris spak thay ilk a dele
And Ideas, that knew it wele
Apartly of the Ielusy,
And leuch thareat richt wilfully.
Baith of hearing and of sicht
Now is the Bauderane tane, I hecht.
He thinkis here and answres thare;
Ane fare maistre me think that ware,
Bot wit, wysed wele and wittelly
And clenely with courtessy,
Come in that point to help, I hecht,
That kend him with ane souerane slycht

204

For to knaw the points all
That euer may to that mister fall.
Thus went thay playand all in pece
Quhen thay met the knichtis of Grece.

The Kingis knichtis of Damas,
Caulus, Arreste and Perdicas,
And Floridas, the styth in stour,
Ar cummin richt to the maister tour,
And out of Venus chalmer, I wis,
The amorous menȝe ishit is.
Betys led dame Idory,
And the Bauderane dame Fesony.
Thay met the knichtis in the great tour;
Ilkane bare vther great honour.
Fesonas tua knichtis hes tane,
And Idorus hes left allane
Hir lemman, and tuke vther tua;
Lyoun and Perdicas war tha.
Bot the fare dame Ideus
Maid mair ioy and callit Idorus,
“My dere sister, lo! our cousine,
Floridas the palasine!
Ask him how thay fare in thare landis,
Of our antecessouris sum tythandis!”
“My dere sister,” said Idorus,
“I lofe Cupido and Venus!”
Ilkane made ioy to vther, I het;
On silkin carpetis war thay set,
And carpit thare lyking as thame lest;
Quha couth gude tythandis, tald thame best.

On silkin carpettis that war schene
War set tha cumly knichtis kene,

205

To speke of amouris thare, I hecht,
Demandand and Iugeand to the richt.
Ald Cassamus tuke Ydeas
Be the finger, that fetas was,
And in hir eir he said, “my sueit,
Hes thow of help great mister ȝit?”
“Schir,” said that schene, “throw ȝour counsall
I haue mantemyt me sa weill
That I haue lemman and luffare,
Fare and fetas and of gude fare.”
“Harrow!” said Cassamus and leuch,
“I se that now weill yneuch!
Thair I haue beft the busk bare,
And ane vthir hes tane the hare!”
Quhen sho it hard, sho changit hew,
And sueitly said, as wyse and trew,
“Beauschir, ȝit is me fallin nocht
Quhare-throw that man bird blame me ocht,
Thocht all war witting, I warne ȝow weill,
Baith deid and thocht, euer ilk deill.
I grantit ȝow my lufe, I wis,
And I of ȝouris als sesit is;
Ȝit haue I ȝemit it hidder tillis;
Bot had I wrocht efter ȝour willis
And done ȝour counsall, as I wene,
Thair-throw had I dissauit bene.”
“Sueit,” said the gude man, “be nocht mad!
All-thocht I bourd to mak ws glaid,
Ay to win honour sall I haue
Hart and hand attour the laif.
The Bauderane sall I gif to the,
That fare and fetas is and fre,

206

In stede of Cassamus the hare.”
“Schir,” said the schene, “for euer mare
I am abandoned in all thing
To work efter ȝour counsaling!”
“Schir,” said the schene, “ane hundreth syse
I thank ȝow of ȝour great franchyse,
For quha is gude freind in laute,
At ane myster men may se!”
With that, the Kingis messingers
War cummin with hors on mony maneris,
Brasin and broun, quhyte and gray,
That the King had sent that day
To Gaudefere and his brother Betys,
Couerit with couertouris of prys.
And to his douzepeiris sent he syne
Thare hors and halely thare armyne,
And men of armes great fusoun.
Than ioyfull war thay in the toun.
Syne efter all assembled ar,
And amang thame the wysest war;
Thay charged the commounite
That thay suld nocht affrayit be
For nathing that thay hard nor saw,
“For on the morne quhen day sall daw,
Clarus four sonnes sall tak our pray
Richt at our ȝet, and hald thare way,
And to the forrest tak the gate;
Bot tharefore nane sall oppin the ȝet
Na ȝit postrum, na mak na fray.”
Quhen this was said that I here say,
To Venus chalmer thay went, I wis;
That cumpany richt ioyfull is.

207

At the fute of the mekill tour,
Wnder the flurist siccamour,
Was spred into ane harbure grene
Carpettis of silk and siluer schene.
Thare sat the knichtis of Grece, I wis,
And the maydinnis that ioly is.
Of Alexander and of Porrus
The knichtis held speke, of Clarus,
Of Daurus preis, and of Melchis;
And the maydinnis that was fetis,
Held halely speke of amouris all
And gud that thareto may fall.
Thus thir folk in great solas,
And in short tyme, assembled was.
The ches was asked sone, I hecht,
And men thame brocht wele at richt
Sic ane chekker that neuer ar
Was sene ane better seildin quare.
The listis of gold war, fare and fyne,
Subtyle wrocht with ane engyne,
The poyntis, of Emeraudes schynand schyre
And of rubeis birnand as fyre.
The ches of sapheris war, I wys,
And of topace that richest is.
Pigmeus thame maid with slicht;
Thay war full fare to se with sicht.

In silkin carpetis on the grece
Auld Cassamus gart bring the ches.
Him-self hes set the alphyis,
And, lauchand, said he on this wys:
“Lordingis, lat se quha will assay!”
Said Perdicas, “schir, ȝe sall play!”

208

“Perfay,” said Cassamus, “I na ken!
I am ane churle to cary men.
Betuix me and my alphis we sall
Bynd vp the oxin in the stall.
This is it that euer can I,
Bot eit and drink allanerly!
The Bauderane sall begin, perfay,
And Fesonas sall him assay,
To leif thare melancoling,
For thay ar baith in lele lufing!”
The Bauderane said, “I refuse nocht,
Na ȝit the amorous thocht.
The sing of lufe will I nocht tyne,
For all is hirris, here and hyne.”
Fesonas said, to mak him wraith,
“To mekill, shir, drede I ȝour skaith.
Quhat I sall haue outher rouk or knicht
To auantage, bot ȝe me hecht
That it be without wrething.
Ȝe sall be met, without lesing,
In ane nuke with ane alphing.”
Said Ideas, “ȝe manance fast, cousing!
Manance aucht to bere cumpany
To wrang winning and succudry,
But or the play all endit be,
For all ȝour fere, I hope to se
Ȝour great mannance faill halely!”
Fesonas said hir preuelly,
“Gif ȝe be zelous, I will him pray
That he ȝour lufe wald put away,
And to allege ȝour mekill ill.”
Said Ideas, “ȝe say ȝour will!

209

Quhan I lufe outher hin or her,
I keip nocht of sic messinger!”
The Bauderane hard the speche all,
And luked to Ideas the small.
Quhen sho persauit, sho changit hew;
Her visage, that was freshe and new,
Vox ridder weill than rose on rys.
Cassamus tuke ane cod of prys,
And by the playeris lenit him syne.
“Be God,” said that palasyne,
“Lo here ane lytstar wele at richt,
That sone sa fyne hew can dicht!
Draw, shir Bauderane! ȝe can shute speiris
That hit the hart, and it nocht deres!
Draw on, shir Bauderane! for ȝe may
Haue wele the first draucht of the play!”

“I grant wele,” said the maydin fre,
“That the first draucht the Bauderanes be,
Bot I sall haue the nixt, I wis,
And mete him syne, all maugre his,
With ane alphine, gif I may speid!”
“Dame,” said the Bauderane, “God forbeid!”
“Mak thare ane note!” said Cassamus.
“Schir,” said the maydin, “be Marcus,
I am sa sikker, I vnderta,
That in the letter sho sekes ane stra!
I am nocht of my fallowes play,
Ideas, the fare and gay,
Na ȝit hir sister Idorus,
Bot quhen it lykes to Venus
And Alexander the nobill King,
I sall haue lemmen at lyking,

210

Quhilk sall of body douchty be
And of hand baith large and fre!”
“Fare nec[e],” said Cassamus the ald,
“I trow ȝe be the halest hald.”
Thus thay playit with gammin and gle,
The knichtis of Grece and of Calde,
And spak of amouris and of droury,
Sporting thame richt merelly.

All out the ches, lay
The knichtis of Grece to se the play.
The Bauderane drew ane poun but let
That befoir the feires was set,
And the maydin hir knicht in hy,
To stele the poun all preuelly.
The Bauderane drew his feiris on ane,
To kepe the poun or he war tane,
And sho hir alphyne, for to ta
The fers or ellis to gar hir ga
On bak and leif the poun at the last.
“Dame,” said the Bauderane, “ȝe preis me fast!”
“Schir,” said sho, “lat ȝour siching be!
And nocht-for-thy, sa mot I the,
Thay haue na watter for to pas!”
And he thocht, and in ane study was,
And she him draue to hething ay:
“Schir Bauderane,” sho said, “perfay,
Ȝour siching thare mocht pas the se!
Weill neir ȝow may thay gaistned be!”
Quod Ideas, “dame, be Dyany,
Ȝe can speke full hethingly.”
Quhen Fesonas hard that, sho was wraith.
Thare had thay rekned with vther baith,

211

Na had the knichtis of Grece, that ware
On ather halfe standand thare,
That wele persauit thare inuy
Engenered all of Ielusy.
Cassamus smylit with lufsum cheir,
And said wicked toung was euill to steir;
And syne can sing quhen he had said,
For he that speche wald doun war laid.
The Bauderane eshamed was,
And changit colouris in his face,
And to his poun ane knicht drew syne;
And Fesonas with hir Alphyne
Tuke his feirs, and said in hy,
“Dame in ȝour word may nane affy!”
And the Bauderane richt subtelly
Answered without melancoly
And said, sichand, “my sweit thing,
I am tane throw behalding!”
Quhen thay had hard that ressoun, all
Abased thay war, baith great and small.
Quhat he menit thay vnderstude na thing,
For thare was doubill vnderstanding.
Said Fesonas, “ȝe speik wysly!
The draucht is myne!” “Draw hardely!
I say, eschesk!” “Dam, that I heir!
Delyueris it than blythly, my deir!”
“Lat now quhat ȝe do thair-till!”
“Madame, ȝe haist ȝow mair than skill!”
“Auyse ȝow, schir, or ȝe be wraith,
To-day and hale to-morne baith!”
“Madame, sa lang will I nocht stand!”
With that, he tuke his rouk in hand,

212

And wald haue drawen as thocht he than.
“Amends ȝour chek, shir!” said sho than,
And spak, ay taryand him hethingfully,
“Schir, wraith ȝow nocht sa egarly!
Ȝe lufe with lele hart and trew
Ane lady fare and bricht of hew,
Worthy and of gude hauing,
And, shir, na wraith suld haue resting
Quhare sa he lufe had harbry tane!”
The Bauderane than said on ane,
“Dame, ȝe say suth, be all that is!
Sa, and God will, I think, I wis,
And with fyne hart and stedfastly,
Quhen swete vmbethinking suddanly
Me takes and partes my hart in tua,
And thyrlis sumtyme with thochtis thra.
Quha-sa micht se hir fassoun all,
Hir face and hir middle small,
Portured and shapin suthfastly,
As quhylum I saw that lady
In Venus chalmer, at our gaddering,
Quhen we playit at the suthfast King—
Is na man na he aucht to be
Affrayit at hir fyne bounte!”
“Amendis ȝour chek, shir!” said that May,
“We think our lyttill on our play!
I sall haue of ȝour men, I wis,
Or ȝe of myne, sen thus it is.
Ȝe think our mekill on that Caldiane!”
Said Ideas, “dame, be Dyane,
Ȝe ar our wilfull for to say
Ȝour will in ernest or in play!”

213

“Gif I mak gammin,” said Fesonas,
“That is for sporting and solas.
Thir knichtis of Grece wilfully
Thay wald I made thame cumpany.”
“Ȝe are sle, dame!” said the Bauderane,
“And sewis it weill, sa God me sane!
But threid or nedill all subtelly!”
Thay draw thare drauchtis sa, comonly.

Qvhat sall I say? Thay playit sa lang,
And warred ay vther amang.
The Bauderane couth nocht of the play
Samekill as sho, weill far away.
Dame Fesonas, the fare and meik,
Countred him into speik.
“Schir,” said that shene, “ȝe can weill mare
Of this play than I wenit langare.
Now draw wysly, for mister is!
Ȝe salbe met, sa haue I blis,
Outhir in the nuke or in the score,
As I haue said ȝow oft before!”
“Dam,” said the Bauderane, “sa mot I the!
I hald me pait, how euir it be.
Ȝe haue ane nuke quhare-of God wait,
That weill titar mycht mak me mait
Than I, and all that euer I haue,
Mycht mak me mait, sa God me saue!”
Than leuch thay all with gamyn and glis,
And sho apartly aschamyt is;
Hir face wox rede, that ere was cleir.
Said Gaudifeir, “fare sister deir,
Foly is to mak debait!
Speik fare, or he gais his gait!”

214

“Schir,” said that schene, “sa God me rede!
I na thocht euill in word or deid!”
“Dam, nane did I,” said the Bauderane,
“Bot wikked I war, sa God me sane!
Gif I na durst sic ane mait abyde!”
Quhen Cassamus thame hard that tyde,
His hart was blyth for Ioy; in hy
He tuke his cod and haistaly
Kest at the chais and spilt the play
And, lauchand, syne can to thame say,
“Amuffis thow nocht and be nocht hait!
The honour is myne, ȝe baith ar met!”
Than cryit the carll weill merely,
“Gar bring the wyne delyuerly!”
And weill xx., in silkin weid,
In cupis of gold it brocht gude speid.

Eftir the play, the knychtis rais
And thair leif at the ladeis tais.
To Venus chalmer the ladeis ȝeid,
And the Bauderane thame can lede.
The lafe at counsale duelt at richt.
Said Gaudefeir, “be God of mycht,
Me think we do ane great foly
Of the Bauderane, lord of Medy,
That is presoun without festning.”
Said Cassamus, “be heuinnis King,
It is full great courtasy!
He was tane throw cheualry,
And in amouris heir-in is laucht
With ane wenche that is weill taucht,
That byndis him, I warne ȝow weill,
Fastar than fetter or mais of steill,

215

For fyne lufe festnys him, I wys,
And laute, that wyll do na mys;
And he hes suorne, be his Goddis all
And the gude that of lufe may fall
And als his lemmans fare fassoun,
That he sall lelely hald presoun.”
“Suith seir,” said Floridas, “perfay,
His Goddis are in hethin ay,
As resoun will, for to the gude
All gude thing grouis in mane and mude,
And he that wickit is and tratour,
Ay fleis him gude lufe and honour.
Lawte passis all, I wys,
Quhen it in gude man herberit is.
He that dois weill, I hald he levis,
And he dois that to euill him geuis.”

The Ladeis, eftir the cheis play,
To Venus chalmer went thare way;
The laif duelt at thare counsale hale.
“Lordingis,” said Cassamus, “we sall,
As I trow, to-morne haue fechting
Weill arly at the day rising.
To-morne, quha lykis it to se,
The wirship sall in honour be.
To-morne airly richt to the nycht,
Sall wirship weildit be at richt.
To-morne I trow thay sall be sene
That nurist hes in armis bene.
Porrus and Caneus his feir,
And xxviii. with thame, but weir,
Richt at our ȝet sall tak the pray
And syne went to the wod away.

216

Marciane cummis with thame, I wis,
That gude and lele and worthy is.”

“Lordingis,” said Cassamus the hare,
“To-morne, richt at the ȝet of Fare,
Quhare the Bauderane was quhylum tane,
The Indeanes sall assaill ilkane;
And Clarus sonnes, as I hard say,
On vther halfe sall tak the pray,
And fle syne to the forrest end.
Alexander hes ȝow thidder send.
Geue vs counsaill quhat thow thinkis best!”
Said Arreste forouttin rest,
“I rede we arme vs hastelly
And leip vpone our hors in hy,
And sua-gate byde will we thame se.”
Said Cassamus, “blissed mot thow be!”
Than thay thame armed, great and small,
Commonly throw the cittie all.
The counsell endit is, I wene,
And armed all thir knichtis kene,
That worthy in the citie are,
And efter sone arryued ware.
All the kirnallis of the walles
The burgessis gais to, as wele it fallis,
And in the hoste, quhen day was cumin,
The four brether hes thare armes nomin,
That I haue named lang time syne,
Caneus, Caleos and Salphadyne,
Porrus alsua, and Marciane,
And with thame wele cccc. men.
Before King Clarus syne thay went,
And tald him thair enbushment.

217

Said Marciane, “I sall ȝow say,
Quhen we haue sesit and tane the pray,
Gar ȝe assailȝe thame at the ȝet,
On vther halfe to mak debate!”
Said Clarus, “leif ȝe speik foly!
My men suld slane be halely.
We haue assailȝeit and wonnen but small;
The great battell sall amend vs all.
I will nocht that my men be dede
Na ȝit defoulit at that stede.
Quha thinkis to fecht at great battaill,
At dykes and walles suld nocht assaill.
Ane knaif that is nocht worth ane caik
May slay ane gude man with ane straik.
Bot at the nobill renouned iorne
Quhare gude hart sall allowit be,
Thare bird the worthy kyth valour;
Thare sall men se quha winnes honour.
Alexander and his men ilk deill
Cummis and will fecht; I wat richt weill,
Outher sall we win or all tyne.
Lat fall how euer may happin syne!
Bot this me confortis weill, I wis,
That lyfe or dede me destaned is!
Now, happin as may, for euermare
Sall nane reprufe me nouther quhare
That Philloppis sone sall in danger se
Me with him accordit be.
Into his vnhap he sall fecht!
May I him hint in hand, I hecht
Na micht aganes me he sall haue;
And our men [ar], sa God me saue!

218

Seuin syse ma than he hes brocht.
For all his boist I count him nocht.”
Said Marciane, “now be it sa!”
He turned his brydill and he to-ga
To Porrus, to the bushment,
And sa furth to the wod is went,
Into the Forrest of Dawrere,
That was besyde the Citte nere.
Clarus four sonnes and thare menȝe
Enbushit war in ane place preue,
And send thame that the trane suld mak
Richt to the ȝet, the pray to tak,
And kend thame syne how thay suld do,
How thay suld fleand cum thame to.
Thay leit to haue thare will but bade,
But thay wist nocht quhat help thay hade
Of knichtis of Grece that wele couth fecht,
And also of the ladyes that war bricht,
That on the walles of the citte
Lay to behald the semble.
The furriouris went thare way;
Thay war thretty, as I hard say,
That sall by deir thare hardiment
Or thay cum to thare bushment.

The furriouris went thare way in hy,
Horsit and armit iolely.
Marciane was chiftane, I hecht,
And suore be God and all his mycht
That [he] sould outher Iust or failȝe
Or he agane come, vailȝe quod vailȝe;
And Porrus suore be his Goddis ilkane
That he sould outhir be deid or slane

219

Or he sic presonere thare suld tak
That suld the Bauderanis lousing mak;
Thus raid thay manansing with mycht.
The sone was rysing and schynit bricht.
The ȝet was apnit; the pray out past;
The fourriouris it embraissit fast.
Endlang the citie rais the cry;
The knychtis of Grece full sturdely
Lap on thare hors and furth thay fare,
And Cassamus, that herauld hare,
Followit thame with ane great company.
The furriouris full hardely
Raid vpone brydell ane huly pais—
Wthir-was nane thare fleand was—
The pray before thame ilka deill,
And enterit to defend it weill.
Floridas forrow his fallowis raid,
That mekill was and manly maid,
And to Porrus fast can he cry,
“Vassale! thow sall leif the ky,
And thy hors alsua, gif I may!
Sa lychtly passis thow nocht away!
Abyde, schir vassale of the bare!
Or fleand sall thow de richt thare!”
Quhen Porrus hard, for matelent
He was sa crabbit that neir he brint,
And turnit him foroutin mare.
Floridas straik, and wald nocht spare,
Porrus in the myddis the scheild but let,
Quhare ane blak bare in gold was set,
That the scheild and the haubrek brist,
Besyde his syde the speir out thrist,

220

That weill ane span and mare, I weyn,
Mycht of the speir behynd be sein.
It was bot hap that helpit thare,
That he na was deid or woundit sare.
And Porrus straik with all his mycht
Him in the scheild that schynit bricht,
That he inthyrllit ilka deill;
The speir brist on the plait of steill.
The hors war stark and thay hardy;
With scheildis and schulderis halely
Thay hurklit quhill to the erd ȝeid thay,
And ane lang quhyle in suounyng lay.
Porrus rais first with mekill pane,
And Gaderit his gere as man of mane,
And syne passit furth to Floridas
Quhare he in suonyng lyand was,
And tuke him be the hand, I hecht.
“Now hes thow leit,” he said, “schir knycht,
For madeis my hors is myne,
And the ky als, maugre thyne!”
Floridas ansuerit him na deill,
For he mycht nocht all heir him weill.
Quhen Porrus saw his myscheif all,
He sueir be his Goddis, great and small,
That he suld neuer reprouit be
At hame into his awin countre
That he had, outhir for weill or wa,
At sic myscheif greuit his fa.
Than to his hors he went but baid,
Lap on and to his fallowis raid,
And leifit Floridas his feir
In sic poynt as I tell ȝow heir.

221

Now Porrus followes his cumpany,
Inflammit with ire and melancoly.
Him semit be douchty in dede,
Quha had him sene sterand his steid,
In stirroppis straucht, brassit his sheld,
Straik with his spurris, girdand our feld.
At stering him semit na page,
For he berit as ane lyoun in rage.
He rais first and but help of man
Lap on his hors; but quhat be than?
Thay ar both to lofe greatly,
Bot of worship men suld lelely
Speke and deme, for it is sin
To reif thame that thay sa deir win,
For men worship byis oft dere,
And purchessis pryse in places sere.
For-thy suld na man for na thing
Say vther than gude for weill doing.”
Said Ideas, “I grant thare-till.
Ȝe haue refraned me with skill,
For, fra the body want valour,
The hart ȝarnis to win honour,
And weill on thame dar trauell take
And na trauell nor pane forsake.
It is ferly that worthy leuis
Gif he his tyme in armes geues.”
Thus thay spoke of thir bacheleris,
That worthy war and wicht in weris,
Baith lang and large, stout and hardy.
And thay tua faucht enforsitly;
The tane of thame had sone bene dede—
Or, may fall, baith—into that stede

222

Quhen thay of Inde and of Calde
Burshit togidder thare Intermelle
And gart thame part without mair skaith,
All was it maugre thairis baith.
Ane Intermelle man mycht thare find
Of the knichtis of Grece and Ind,
Fulfillit of despite and pryde,
Geuand and takand woundis wyde.
Arreste, that was gude at neid,
Come prekand on ane bausoun steid,
Couerit vnder his scheld, strekand his speir,
In helm enbushit, Ioynt in his gere,
And vpone Caleos can cry,
Clarus sone, prince of Amory,
“Turne the, vassale! schame is to fle!
Abyde, or thow sall fleand de!”
Quhen Caleos hard, he was wraith,
And turnit the hors and bodie baith.
In sterapis straucht, Ioynt in his weid,
Brandissand his speir, he ȝeid.
Togiddir thay straik in the blasonis
Quhill scheildis brist and habirgeonis,
And ilkane vthir woundit sare;
To the erd baith bakuartis bare.
Thay start on fute delyuerly;
The waykast had na will to ly.
Thay knichtis rais, that war curagious,
Hardy and stout and dispittus.
Nouthir of thame preissit vther greatly,
Bot athir throw his mycht anerly
Wend the wourthiest for to be
And to vincus that semble.

223

Arreste de Valester was wourthy,
Mekill and stark, stout and hardy,
And in armes conquerand,
Egir and als assailȝeand;
And Caleos was ȝoung and gay,
And fers and stout, forout affray.
Ilkane of thame tua of his speir
Ane trunscheoun in his hand can bere.
Togiddir thay ȝeid than pais for pais;
Sic routis thay raucht, that ferly was,
With the truncheouns in thare hand
That neir thay stakker and mycht nocht stand.

Hard was the battale for to se,
Betuix Caleos and Arreste,
That felly faucht in myddis the grene,
Sa fulfillit of ire and tene,
And sa wald athir do vthir skaith
That thay forȝet thair suerdis baith.
Arreste preist furth ane pas,
Hint Caleos, that wourthy was,
Be the auentale and to him tit,
And with the trunscheoun syne him hyt
With his neif sic ane colle
That neir-hand dissy deid was he.
The trunscheonis war baith great and sqware,
And the knychtis war wraithit sare.
On heidis, armys and on blasonis
Sic routis thay raucht quhill the trunscheonis
Rycht to thare neiffis to-fruschit ar;
Athir had ane span or lytill mare.
Thare had Caleos deid bene weill neir
Quhen he with hie voce and cleir

224

Cryit the ensigne of Olympy.
“Quhare ar my brether? Is nane me by!”
Caneus him hard and sterit his steid;
Streikand his spere, com wale gud speid.
Now ar thay tua aganes ane,
That wicht and worthy war ilkane.
The ane straik with the armit neif,
And with the trunshun straikis geif;
The tother straik with the sword of steill.
Arreste dred thame neuer a deill,
And cryit, “Valester! thay ar all shent!”
Gaudefeir hard and thidder went,
Streikand his speir with spurris, I hecht,
His suord in hand all burnest bricht.
Caneus can neir him draw,
And said, alssone as he him saw,
Ane word of great nobillite:
“Lo heir his sone as of bounte,
That passit all that lyfe micht lede
And sen at Iosaphas was dede!
Sen I haue met him, we sall fecht,
For he is sikker, worthy and wicht.
Me had leuer had this melle
Than the rent of ane hale cittie.
For I sall wit, gif I dow ocht
And quhat thing is in my thocht;
For sik man wenes weill that he is worth,
That failȝeis all quhen he cumis furth,
And sik wenes he is worth na thing,
That is oft worthy in preuing.
My father said ȝistrene lait,
Before the pauillioun in the gait,

225

That he na fand neuer sic ane man
In all the tyme he leuit quhill than,
Sa stark, sa hardy, na ȝit sa smart,
Na sa ameuserit of great hart,
As Gaudefeirs body de Larys.
The sone aucht pairt haue of his prys!”
In sterapis strenȝeit he than and stude,
And Gaudefeir come, as he war wod,
And hit him euin vpone the croun,
That he our-tuke the straik all doun.
The straik was great, the suord was gude;
Besyde the syd the suerd doun ȝude,
And baith his blasoun and his scheld
He gart fall flatlingis in the feild.
“Perfay,” said Caneus, “now I se
That it is suith men said to me!
He hes hurt me on the syde,
And woundit with ane rymbill ryde;
Now war gude be vengit, gif I mycht!”
With that word, he girdit furth, I hecht.
Now tua for tua ar samyng set,
Tua horsit and tua on thare feit.

The fechting of the brethir tua,
Caneus and Caleos alsua,
Agane Arreste and Gaudefeir,
Was hard and cruell, fell in feir.
With that, the Bauderanis come prekand,
Thare lord with greting regratand,
That presonere in the citie was
Amang the ladeis fare of face,
To fecht for thare maisteris saik,
Quhare thay sic ane presonere sall tak

226

That sall be the ladie deir
And Cassamus, hir cousing neir.
On ather halfe come Caldeanis, I wene,
And Alexanders knichtis kene.
Ilk ane cryit heichly thare ensenȝe;
All faucht thay fast and wald nocht fenȝe.
Arreste cryit “Valester!”, that was his,
And Gaudefere “Tortoun!”, I wis.
The Grecians “Massidone!” can cry,
And thay of Inde cryit “Olympy!”
The battellis war full perralous,
And the fecht hard and hideous;
The dust that rais troubled the air.
Quha held on hors, him-selfe fell fair.
Throw helme and haubrek blude thay draw.
Quha hurt or haill was, nane micht knaw.
The archeris formest wald be in the fecht,
And last at parting, gif thay micht.

Besyde the wod-syde that was shene,
Into ane mekill medow grene,
Before the tour quhare Fesonas
Lay in Kirnallis, and Ideas,
The battellis on baith the sydes met,
Quhare mony ane rummill rude was set,
Quhare mony ane hand and mony ane hede
War all to-hewin in that stede,
And sadillis war temit of douchty men.
Than war the douchty eith to ken.
Quha had gud helpe leit on with fors;
And Arreste hes conquered ane hors,
And Caleos ane vther, I hecht,
That was baith starke and fresche to fecht.

227

Porrus, that chaissis cowartis,
Thirles the battellis and departis.
Thare was thirled mony ane sheild,
And mony ane brand brokin in the feild,
Mony helme hewin; and mony knicht
Throw fors was fellit in the fecht,
And mony ane man full wourthely
Fulfillit with hardement douchty.
The gude schewit that thay had will
To win honour and cum thair-till.
The Knychtis of Grece full hardely
Schewit thair-throw thare cheualry.
The folk of Ind affrayit ar,
And scallit in troppellis heir and thair,
Sa that thay war discumfit neir;
And Marciane foroutin weir,
Throw wraith, the sainȝe of Olimpy
With his voce richt hard can cry,
And thay of Ynd and of Medy
With Clarus four sonnes come in hy
And in tropell assemblit than.
“Our foly doubillis,” said Marcian,
“We haue our airly tane this pray.
Thay challange it weill hard, perfay.
Clarus felony deir by sall we,
His wrang, his wickednes that we se,
For ws beheuffis suffer velany
Or resaue dede allutarly,
And nane of vs sall vengance tak,
Bot reprufe to our airis mak!
Had Clarus assegit the citie
On athir half with his menȝe,

228

The folk had nocht bene sa hardy
To Isch this day sa sturdely.
Sa God me rede! I can nocht rede,
For gif we byde, we ar bot dede,
For gif we fle, our folk ar schent;
For-thy ilk man say his intent!”
“Fare cousing,” said Porrus, “perfay,
I am ȝoungest and I will say:
Gif my father be fell of thocht,
It cummis him of kynd; he coft it nocht.
Sen Alexander haitis ws, and all his,
Heir helpis na discomfort, I wis,
Bot wirship, hardement and vigour.
Throw wit I can se na succour.
Do ȝour deuore, I pray ȝow all,
And keip ȝour honour or it fall!
Do we neuer na couardry
For wiked lord, na felony!
Sa sall our wirship doubillit be,
And enforsit our bounte!
I sall nocht counsall that we fle,
Neuer [a] myle, thocht we suld de!
Heir de or leif or wyn the place!”
Said Marciane, “be Goddis grace,
My will geuis me nocht to do sa.
Eftir my menȝe will I ga!”
With that, he blew ane horne on hicht
And releuit his men with all his mycht,
And thocht to fle, thame defendand
Quhill he mycht bring thame to warrand.

Now Marciane his gait hes tane;
Clarus four sonnys ar with him gane.

229

Sory and wraith war thare menȝe;
With baneris waiffand, tua or thre,
Sa wysly fleand saw ȝe neuer;
All held togidder; wald nane disseuer.
Caneus and Porrus the fre
Baid richt defendand thare menȝe,
And to the forrest thay thame led.
Of fellit folk the feild lay spred;
Sum held thame still and sum wald chas.
Grecians and Caldeanis mengled was;
Fourty or fourscore chaissit fast,
Bot Betys all his fallowis past
Weill neir ane bow-draucht and mare.
Of Idorus he thocht him thare,
Of thare sueit assembling
Quhan thay playit at the suithfast King
In Venus chalmer, quhen the Bauderane
In presoun was with preue pane.
And in his steroppis he him straucht,
And cryit “Tortoun!” with mekill maucht,
And strenȝeit with spurris the steid of pryde,
And ouertuke thame at the reuer-syde.

At the inganging of the forrest,
Come Betis prekand but arrest,
Abandounly forrow his fallowis all
Ane great bow-draucht thay tua of pall.
The furriouris he ourtuke in hy,
And hyely can to Porrus cry,
“Schir vassale with the goldin sheild,
Turne the to me, or in this feild
Thow sall de fleand, gif I may!”—
“Allace that euer I saw this day!,”

230

Said Porrus, “for this day tuis
I haue bene reprouit for cowardis.
Gif I furth with my fallowes fare,
Schamed I am for euer mare,
And of alsmekill as I haue done
All sould me blame vnder the mone!”
His hors sa frely turnit he than
That neir to erd ȝeid hors and man.
For pure dispite and for outrage
He was as quha war in ane rage;
In baith his handis his ax he hynt,
And heit his hand to gif ane dynt;
And Betys come as out of wyt,
And with the staluart speir him hit.
Wit ȝe weill that rout was ride!
And Porrus straik, that wald nocht byde,
Him euin vpone the helm of steill.
That straik was wounder fell to feill,
Sa vndemous ane dynt, I hecht,
Quhill he baith hering tynt and sicht,
And on his arsoun als lay still.
The hors start fourth, was brydillit ill,
And bair him furth amang his fais.
Marciane him weill knew, and tais
By the brydill, and on him baid.
The folk of Ynd, quhen thay him had,
Reft him his sword into that sted;
Thus gatis was Betys tane and led.

Now Marciane gais his gait in hy,
And led him presonere him by.
The knychtis of Bauderis had ane reioising

231

In thare hartis of his taking,
And said thay conquerit gretly,
For throw him suld thay haue quykly
Thare lord, that tane was in the toun,
In Venus chalmer in presoun.
Bot sall, I trow, thair winning fall,
For Porrus was enclosit all,
And enuironit, with men on fute.
To gang on bak him was na bute,
For he on athir syde was socht
With comonis that him sparit nocht.
Bot quhen he saw that he was sa
Supprysit allane, withowtin ma
His hart in to his body grew.
With baith his handis vp he drew
His scheld vpone his bak, I hecht,
To traist to couer him in the fecht;
And, before, as knycht hardy,
Defendit him full stalwartly.
Ane renk about him hes he maid;
He sparit nane that him abaid,
Bot the carllis schot speiris on fer
(For in handis durst nane cum neir)
Sa that thay slew within ane space
His hors; and thare to erd he gais.
Quhen Porrus feld his steid was deid,
He start vp stythly in that steid,
And cryit the ensenȝe of Olimpy,
And dang on thay carllis richt douchtely.
On ilk syde he gaif rowtis ryde;
Durst nane of thame his dintis byde.
Porrus lukit and saw ane waill,

232

And before him, as styth in staill,
He couerit him with scheild ilk deill.
The ax in his hand of steill,
With his vndemous strakis geuing,
Him semyt supprysit in na kin thing.
On the comouns of Effezoun
Sic pay he maid, he dang thame doun,
That neir-hand fyftene in that place
Was lyand deid, or disseit was.
Was nane of thame durst nych him neir,
Bot all on fer assailȝeit him seir,
And stainnes and slyngis hard thay cast.
He couerit him as he mycht best.
Quhill that the hand-ax schaft held hale,
Thay had the war part of the daill,
Bot sone it brak; than was he wa;
The heid it flew full far him fra.
Than thay enforcit on him the cry,
And he allane full sturdely
Addressit him agane thame all,
And he thame dreidit bot richt small.

At the auld wall before the toun,
All the commouns of Effezone
Assailȝeit Porrus, and that richt fast.
Neif-stainnis at him fast can thay cast,
And he him couerit, that myster had.
Ane castell of his scheild he maid,
And of his helm ane styth doungeoun,
And of the auld wall ane croun
He maid, ane fortrais, I hecht;
And of his brand that schynit brycht
I wis he maid his Campioun.

233

Baith flesch and senonis he bure all doun;
He all to-hewit; I warne ȝow weill
Thare fais to-frushit he ilka deill.
Of handis and heidis, baith braune and blude,
He maid ane lardnare quhare he stude;
He gart thame fle, maugre thame all,
And syne for warrand come to the wall.
The wyffis cryit, “Assailȝe the theif!”
Sum meynis hir sone, that was hir leif,
And sum hir husband menit sare.
The ladeis that in kirnalis war,
Ferlyt than quhat he was, greatly,
That defendit sa douchtely
All him allane agains thame all.
“Certis,” said Ydeas the small,
“He is ane of Clarus men.
Be the blak bare I him ken.
He Iustit lang ere with Floridas!”
“Ȝa, fare cousing,” said Fezonas,
“Gif that we the suith sall say,
He lap on hors the first, perfay,
And at the fechting heir doun
He gart him ly on his arsoun.
Wald he haue slane him, he war deid.
He is douchty, sa God me rede!
It semis he dois his lyking all.
Dere God! gif it mycht sa fall
That he may be in presoun tane,
Than suld I haue him to lemmane!”
“Dam,” said Ydeas, “God wait
We grant him ȝow but mair debait!
Now wald I blythly that it war

234

Richt as we haue deuysit heir!”
“Ȝa, nece,” said Fezonas the fre,
“Gif he be tane, quhat euir he be,
I sall haue him to my part,
Or I sall sell baith craft and art!
And of him mak my lemman to,
Sen that I may na better do.”
“We grant ȝow him!” said Ydeas.
“Mekill thank!” said Fezonas.
Thus thay spak, makand thare sermoun,
And Porrus faucht lik ane lyoun,
Ay to the knychtis of Calde
And Alexander knychtis fre
Returnit, that had leuit the chais,
And the pray reskewit was;
Bot ȝit wist thay na kin thing
Of Betys, na of his taking,
That Marciane led to presoun
Hame richt to his pauillone.

The knychtis of Grece returnit thare;
The fourriouris wald chace na mair.
Before thame brocht thay hame the pray,
Ioyfull and glaid, Ioly and gay.
Besyde the auld wall haue thay went,
Quhare Porrus schewit his hardement.
Quhen Cassamus saw him, he can cry,
“Ȝeild the, freind, delyuerly,
Or ȝow sall dee with dyntis seir!
Thy defence may nocht help the heir.
Gang vp, and the Bauderane be,
Amang the ladeis that ar sa fre!”
Quhen Porrus hard, had matelent;

235

He swet for ire quhill neir he brint.
“Certis,” said he, “shir harrot hare,
Is nane of ȝow sa hardy thare
That of myne sall haue ony thing,
Bot he it win with hard fechting!”

Cassamvs worthy was, I wys,
And wele deuysed at all deuys.
The outtragious hardement weill he knew
Of Porrus, and be his hew,
Of his semblance, he knew full weill
That he na louit him neuer a deill,
For honour ȝarnit he mare, I wis,
Than siluer or land or ocht that is,
And to the cairles can he cry,
“Withdraw ȝow out mare hastelly!
I sall wele better chewis me!”
Delyuerly than lichtit he,
And said to Porrus hastelly,
“Ȝeild the to me frely,
And lat the nocht defoulit be
Na slane amang this communite!”
Porrus na hede wald to him tak;
“Perfay,” said Cassamus, “gif I mak
Mair bade to abyde thy will,
The knichtis or vther, loud or still,
Sall say that I dar nocht assailȝe,
Body for body in battailȝe!”
With that, he grippit his sword in hy,
And couered him with his sheild cleinly,
And went to Porrus sturdely,
And Porrus met him richt hardely.
Bot I of na auysement

236

Can tell bot of thare hardement.
Of bodeis, armes and breistis braid
And heidis, sik ane hurching maid
That men micht lykin—it was sa snell—
To tempest that fra the cluddis fell.
Ather hes feld his fallow leill;
For thare armine styth of steill,
Na man of thame was sa hardy
That he na wald haue peax honorabilly.

Thvs Cassamus can assailȝe fast,
Porrus can perellous strakes cast.
Gif the tane bare him worthely,
The tother bare him hardelly.
With the plummettis of swordis bricht,
Thay strake vther with all thare micht
On sydes, and als baith woundit ar.
The carlis had ferly, that thare war,
And said that thay war deuils or dragouns,
For nouther helme, na ȝit blasouns,
Nor mannis body, may suffer lang
Sik dushis as thay togidder dang.
Than Gaudefeir enforsitly
Come with the men of Arraby
And hard the dinging of thare dyntis,
That kest fyre as man dois flyntis.
“Certis,” the knichtis of Grece can say,
“We saw nane sik fechtand this day,
In all the fechting that is gane.
Now lat we thame ane quhyle allane!”
Thare-at leuch Cassamus, I wis,
And said, “lordingis be all that is,
I am heildit with my sheild ilk deill!

237

With his great strakes I felt him weill!
Ȝe may trow me but vther aith!”
With that, baith sword and blasoun baith
He kest flatlingis away him fra
And tuke him in his armes tua,
And Porrus met him full sturdelly.
Than thay of Grece lap doun in hy
And sesit Porrus on ilk syde—
He was hard sted into that tyde—
And rashed of his helme, I wis,
And reft his sword, maugre his.
Thusgate was Porrus tane with threte,
That tholit pane and trauell grete.
On him was nouther sennoun nor vane
That thay na mouit war ilkane.
The Gretians witnes him, I wis,
Of souerane worship our all that is,
And Cassamus loud cryit syne,
“Quhare is Betys, my deir cousine?
I se him nocht about vs heir;
I am red he be presonere!”
“Perfay,” said Porrus, “I can tell
Certane tydingis how him befell.
With me lang ere iustit he,
And thare sik hansell gaue he me
That I am takin, all maugre myne;
Amang the furriouris than raid he syne;
I saw him nocht sensyne agane.
Gif he be tane (sa God me sane!)
And I alsua heir tane, I wis,
This bargane weill les grewand is,
For tharethrow wonder weill may we,

238

Throw freinds help, accordit be!”

“Lo gude confort!” said Cassamus,
“For did we vther-wayes than thus,
We war wrang and he nocht dede.
Bot [nocht-] for-thy (sa God me rede!)
My hart reioysis mony wyis,
For in gud knichtis great confort lyis.
Now ga we hame with gamming and play!
Gar bring vs heir ane hors that may
Beir this knicht!” With that, in hy
Thay lap on hors delyuerly,
And raid with Porrus to the toun.
But or he pas of that presoun
Quhair fyne lufe festinis the Bauderane,
He sall bring Betys hame agane.
Now thay of Calde gais thair way,
Ioyfull and glaid, Ioly and gay,
Ledand thare presoner Porrus
Into the toun throw port Iuorus.
Syne war thay sone vnarmit all,
And Porrus, that was stith in stall,
Vnarmit was delyuerly,
In kirtill and mantill syne cled cleinly.
Mekill he was and formed weill,
His lymmis weill shapin war ilk deill,
His visage was ane party broun;
And fleshly was with ressoun.
I hecht he was behaldin weill
Of knichtis and ladeis fair to feill.
Of his hie worship ran the cry
Our all the toun richt hastelly.
The tythandis come to chalmer Venus,

239

Quhare Fezonas was and Ydorus,
That had great glaidship in thair thocht,
And said for thame thair Goddis wrocht.
“Certis,” said Fezonas the small,
“Attanis may all myscheif fall,
Now sall I lemman haue, parde,
That for douchty sall haldin be;
Bot thank now will I gif to nane
Bot to dam Ydeas, hir allane,
That grantit me him or he was cuming.
All, hope I, ellis scho had him numyng
Gif hir had thocht him fare to se!
Bot now ane party broun was he,
Thair-of is me mysfallin greatly!
Bot, of wirship alluterly,
Than is he chosin our all the laif.”
Said Ydeas, “dam (sa God me saif!)
Ȝe say ȝour will our largely.
I haue quitclamit him vterly.
Ȝe driue me fast to heithing ay,
And ay reproues me quhen ȝe may!”
“My sueit fallow,” said Fezony,
“It is bot play in company!”
With that, come Gaudefeir and Caulus,
Lyoun, Arreste and Cassamus,
Porrus with thame, thair presonere;
Agane thame rais the ladeis cleir.
In Venus chalmer cumin ar
The Knychtis of Grece, that wourthy war.
Wnarmyt war thay euerilk deill,
And claid in robis that semyt weill.
Within thair presonere thay brocht;

240

The ladyes him louit in dede and thocht
For the great worship and bounte
That of him ran in the citte,
And for it als that thay had sene
Vpon the walles quhare thay had bene,
That ȝarned thay beheld him all.
Fesonas, that was gent and small,
Be the hand richt lufsumly
Him tuke, and said richt courtasly,
“Schir, ȝe haue me greued sare
To-day, sa God me keip fra care!
For greuous panes I saw ȝow dre.
Carles are euill folk and vnsle;
Had ȝe nocht all the better bene,
Thay had ȝow slane, that men had sene;
Bot wonder hie worship and bounte
Delyuered ȝow of thare pouste!”
“Dam,” said Porrus, that sum thing thocht,
“My help had me auailȝeit nocht,
Na war the auld mannis bounte,
That throw his wirship souccourit me.”
“Perfay,” said Cassamus, “fare nece,
Na had nocht bene the knychtis of Grece
That helpit, he had warrit me!”
Than luich thay all with gamyng and gle.
Porrus sum deill aschamit was,
And smait doun smertly with the face.
With that, ane boy come and tald
Tythandis of Betys that was bald,
That the fourriouris has tane
Betys, all armyt of helm allane.
He is hale of hurtis all,

241

Bot on his neis ane tyting small,
Hurt with ane knyf at his taking.
Quhen Fezonas the fare thing
Hard that, sho maid great dule [and] cry.
Porrus hir comfort courtasly,
And said, “be God, my deir lady,
Lat presonere agane presonere ly!”
The madin, sychand, thankit him fast;
Thus war thay comfort at the last.

Thvs war thay in way of confort;
Of Porrus had thay great disport,
And of Betys great dule, I wis.
In Venus chalmer, with Ioy and blis,
Thus ar thay set in silkin weid.
Porrus beheld thame with gude speid,
And ilkane of tha ledeis fre
To vthir said in priuate,
“Quha-sa ane wourthy man wald haue,
Hir bird nocht change (sa God me saue!)
This knycht for nane that leuand Is.”
Than blenkit vp Cassamus with blis,
And bad men feche the Bauderane sone.
Ane squyre went without hone
To feche him quhare he allane
Was prayand into tempil Dyane.
The vassalle come delyuerly,
Quhare God gart all gude multuply.
The knychtis of Grece agane him ȝeid.
Of the presoneris (sa God me speid!)
Na of thare semblance, na of thare fare,
At this tyme I can tell na mare.

242

Fezonas tuke Porrus be the hand
For that he suld be hir stand,
And he hir als, and syne thay set
On silk, samyng and veluet.
“Schir,” said the schene, “sa God me se!
I war richt blyth that it micht be
That all my freindis, quhare euer thay war,
War als worthy as ȝe ar,
And als weill mycht thole pane and thrang
In hard battale and towris strang;
Clarus weir suld greif ws les!”
“Dame,” said Porrus “sa God me blis!
Clarus is, gif I dar say,
Mychty of land and of money,
And of hie kin of thame of Troy.
Thocht he be auld (sa haue I Ioy!)
War I woman, I durst weill say
That ane ald of great nobillay
I suld midew in na kin thing.
I say it nocht, be heuinnys King!
As his sone, for ony eis;
I hait the weir and luffis the peis.”
Quhen Fezonas hard him, aperty
Sho was aschamit, bot nocht for-thy,
“Gif ȝe of me had senȝeory,
I suld manteme me sa wysly
That I my freindis will suld do
To quhome thay wald assent thair-to.”
Thusgait said Fezonas perfay,
And the fourriouris raid thair way,
And [said] thay conquerit greatly,
For thay the Bauderane suld haue quyckly.

243

The fourriouris ar went thare way;
Thare presonere with thame had thay;
Marciane can neir him ryde;
The Bauderanis war on ilka syde,
For throw him hopit thay weill to haue
Thare lord, that thay luifit our the laif,
That Gaudefeir held in Effezone,
In Venus chalmer in presoun.
Bot ȝit of Porrus wist thay nocht
How he was tane or quhat he wrocht.
Marciane sperit at Betys than,
“Beauschir, of Porrus, gif ȝe can,
We pray ȝow tell ws sum thing!”
“Ȝa,” said Betys, “without lesing,
I can tell sum tithingis of the fere:
He and I straik sic ane straik lang ere
That I na wist quhethir it was nicht or day.
I wat na mare of him, perfay,
Bot that he is wicht and hardy,
Baith stout, staluart and michty;
And, be Marcus, men suld sone faill
To find ane better in ane great battaill.”
“Schir,” said ane swane, “Porrus is tane,
Besyde ane auld wall him allane,
Bot he in armes sa him bare,
And sic slauchter hes maid thare,
That neir [OMITTED]about him lay;
And hes na hurt, as I hard say,
Bot ane hurt with ane stane of fer,
For his defence durst nane cum ner.”
Than Cassamus can loud cry,
“Withdraw ȝow, carles, haistelly!”
Togidder thay straik as fyre of flint,

244

And athir vthir in armis hynt.
Porrus was sesit on ilkane syde.
His armour reft thay him that ilk tyde.
I saw thame put him in presoun.”
“Fallow,” said Marciane muacoun,
Gif he be tane and is nocht dede,
Ȝit ar we weill, sa God me rede!
For athir vthir than throw this
We sall to ransoun cum, I wys.
It fallis in weir quhilis to tyne,
And for to wyn ane vthir syne.
Men suld mak mirrie quhill thay mocht,
For discumfort availȝeis nocht!”

Qvhen Marciane said all his intent,
Towart the oist of Ind he went,
And at his Innis lychtit he is.
Courtasly he turnit Betys,
And at lasere vnarmyt syne;
With watter that was freche and fyne,
He gart refreche him in that sted,
And with gude claithis him clenly cled.
He was weill maid fra end to end,
Outhir to assaill or to defend.
To Clarus pauillone thay him led.
Bot thair is nane, sa God me rede!
That may reiois the King Clarus,
For the lufe of his sone, Porrus.
Before his pauillone he standis
To tak the air, and heir tythandis
Of the furriouris that furth war went.
Ane child him tald with richt intent
The taking of Porrus the fre,
And the meruele that thare maid he

245

Of cairlles that him assailȝeit fast,
And how Cassamus at the last
Embrased him full sturdely,
And him hint full hardely;
And how the knichtis of Grece thare hynt,
Reft him his sword or thay wald stynt,
And his helme and his blasoun,
And led him tane to thair presoun.
Said Clarus, “men mon thole all this.
Gif it be suith thow sayis, I wis
For na kin thing that I can se
He bird nocht greatly blamed be.
I had leuer that he with honour
Be tane than shamefully leif the stour!”

Qvhen Clarus hard tell tything
Of Porrus, his dere cousing,
That forouttin deid was tane,
Defendand him, all him allane,
In armes greatly worship doand
For to conquere honour lestand,
In his hart wonder glaid was he,
And said, “fallow (sa God me se!)
I heir the tell ane great farly,
How that ane man allanerly
Agane sa fele suld hald battale,
Him-selfe defend and thame assale,
Handis to-hew and hedes baith,
And syne be tane but harme or skaith!”
“Schir,” said the chylde, “men may find weill
Sum men that can nocht greif a deill
Ane man that armed is all at richt,
Gif he defend with all his micht.
Quhen gude men settis all to all

246

To win honour, I trow he sall
With mekill pane be brocht to dede,
And it war sin (sa God me rede!)
Ane gudman at mischeif to sla,
Quhare men may him to presoun ta.
Ane gude man suld to ane vther ay
In ilk stede bere honour and fay.”
“Thow sayis wele, fallow,” said Clarus,
“Be he takin as thow sayis thus,
As I had leuer he be, perfay,
Sua tane na fleand cum away.”
Then Marciane to his pauillioun,
To confort him, brocht his presoun.

Qvhen auld King Clarus saw cum nere
Marciane and his presonere,
He said, “ane presoner heir is,
That in battell was tane, I wis;
In his face it apperis weill.
Him semes stark and stith to feill,
Baith ȝong and, be sembland, ioly;
But hart faill him, he bird be douchty.
Bot thay of Bauderis hes wonnen small
Quhen thay Porrus, the stith in stall,
Hes left for this, and the Bauderane,
They ar the best (sa God me sane!)
That ar amang the oist of Inde,
Or ȝit that come of that kynde.
Ȝit wald I weill pryse thame mare,
Sib to me gif thay na ware.”
Efter this word thay ar all set
On carpettis made of weluet.
Then Marciane and his presonere
Approched to the pauillion nere,

247

Than cryit he, “quhair is Porrus?”
“Schir,” said Marciane, “be Marcus,
He is tane; bot we haue ane
Of lytill les price; we haue tane
Gaudiferis bruthir; he hecht Betys.
We sall for him, at myne auyse,
Our presoneres haue, thocht thay war tane!”
“Now be it sa!” said Clarus thane,
“My freind sall be that may it speid!”
“Schir,” said Marciane, “haue na dreid!
We sall for fyue dayis treux ta
Of vs and thare oistis alsua.
Throw freindis, help sa get sall we,
And thay, I trow, sall lousit be.”
Said Clarus, “certis, quhill I leif,
We sal be freindis na him forgeif,
That me contrarys with all his mane,
And alsua hes my bruthir slane.
He hes despysit, to myne avyse,
To mekill baith prynces & lordis of price,
And euill may nocht haue last.
His end he seis approchand fast,
For in this ilk ȝeir sall he
Outher dede or discumfit be,
For at the dry tre, lang quhyle syne,
The Goddis him tald how he suld fyne.
Bot the trowes nocht-for-thy,
It will be kepit lelely
For v. dayis, for four or thre,
Quhill the presoneris delyueret be.”

“It lykis me weill,” said auld Clarus,
“That the trux be takin thus,
That on baith the halfis men may haue franchis

248

To gang and cum with Marchandyce
Quhill the prisoneris delyuered be;
Schir vassale, I say to the!”
“Schir,” said Betys, “at ȝour lyking!”
“Now be it sua!” said Clarus King,
“Gar set the burd that we may eit,
For we sall wele, efter the meit,
Send to purches this empryse!”
Thay set the burd at his deuyse.
Quhan thay had washin, that barny
Was set to meit all halely.
By Marciane set was Betys,
And Caneus, that can him pris,
Of the worship and of bounte
Him gaif louing and renoune.

248

This was in middes the moneth of May,
Quhen winter wedders ar away,
And foulis singis of soundis seir,
And makes thame mirth on thare manere,
And graues, that gray war, waxis grene,
As nature, throw hir craftis kene,
Schroudis thameself with thare floures,
Wele sauorand, of sere colouris,
Blak, Blew, blude-rede alsua,
And Inde, with vther hewis ma.
That tyme fell in the middes of May
Quhen auld Clarus with great deray
Come with his oist as men of were
For to assege ȝong Gaudefere
And Betys; and into that citte,
For lufe of Fesonas the fre,
The tyisday eftir, ald Cassamus
Brocht Alexander and Emynedus,

249

With Alexander in thare helping.
On Wednisday in the morning,
The folk of Pers and Barbary
And thay of Inde and of Medy
Assailȝeit at the Barreris sa fast
With all thare micht, bot at the last
Thare was the lord of Bauderis tane;
Cassamus kepis him allane,
Bot outher presoun or festnine,
Bot throw lele lufe and laute fyne.
The furriouris on thurisday syne
Came to the ȝet hecht Eboryne,
And sesit of oxin and ky ane pray;
Bot Caldeans ished out at deray,
And thay of Grece richt sturdely
Ished with thare cheualry;
Thare was mony ane slane and dede.
Porrus was takin into that stede;
Besyde ane wall thare he faucht
And to Grecians great routis raucht,
Defendand him as ane lyoun;
On the tother halfe tane was Betoun.
Now will thare freindis counsall tak
How thay thare lousing best may mak.

Lordingis, this tyme that I of mene,
At that pray was knichtis kene
Takin and reskewit, chaissand.
Porrus was tane, I vnderstand,
Assailȝeand Grecians halely,
And him defendand douchtely.
Cassamus hint him by the hand
And, maugre his, reft him his brand
And his helme and his blasoun,

250

And led him takin in his presoun.
Great honour all hale him bare,
That was thair-in, baith les and mare;
The madinis honorit him greatly.
In Venus chalmer iolely
Thay maid thare-with lauchter and sang;
Great glaidship was thame amang.
Of Porrus war thay blyth ilkane,
And wraith for Betys that was tane,
Bot thairfor left thay na kin thing
Of thare gamyng and thare playing.
At tyme of meit the washis blew,
Ay tua and tua togidder drew,
And hand in hand, before the hall,
In ane harbeir assemblit all.
Porrus ȝeid malancoliand,
Vp and doun in court gangand.
With that, ane chyld besyde him went,
With ane stain-bow in hand all bent,
Quhair-with he birdis and pyets slew.
Porrus him saw and neir him drew,
And said, “gude freind, for lufe of me,
Len me that bow!”—“I grant!” said he.
He tuke the bow and taist it sone,
And thairin hes ane pellok done,
And throw the court lukit vp and doune,
On Venus chalmer he saw ane poune,
That with his tale maid iolely
The quheill, and turnit him fetasly.
“Schute, Beauschir!” said Cassamus.
“Na, schir, it fallis nocht!” said Porrus,
“Ȝis,” sais the auld, “schute hardely!
“Thare is heirin ma than thretty.

251

“Spare thame nocht! thare is anew!”
Porrus auysed him and than drew,
The poun he hit richt on the hede,
Quhill on the stane the harnis glede,
And out of the hede the ene out brast;
The poun fell doun, flichterand fast.
Than lordis and ladeis come rinnand sone,
And Fesonas forouttin hone
Come in, makand richt fare sembland,
And sesed Porrus be the hand
And, lauchand, to him said sho raith,
“Schir, ȝe ar tane doand me skaith!”
“Dame,” said Porrus, “I ask mercy,
And ȝeildis me to ȝow vterly,
Fra this tyme furth for euermare!”
“Schir,” said that shene, “I aske na mare!
Bot I will hald ȝow in my presoun
Quhill we accord for ȝour ransoun!”

Thvs was the poun brocht to end,
And syne was to the kytchine send;
And Grecians and Caldeanes with-all,
All hand in hand, ȝeid to the hall.
Great honour athir vthir bare,
As folk weill taucht and nurist ware,
And hand in hand to meit thay ȝeid,
On rich carpettis and silkin weid.
The mayddinis hes the presoners tane;
And intermelle to mete ar gane.
Of schorting, solace and of gamyng,
And lauchter, with blyth blenkis samyng,
And of gude wordis and gracious,
And of thocht sweit and amorous,
Amang thame Intermes thay maid,

252

For at deuyse thair-of thay had.
“Schir,” said Fezonas, “my poune is slane!”
And Porrus, “gif I haue misgane,
“The misdeid, madame, is myne,
“And ȝouris is the mercy syne!
“And resoun will I duell, of det,
“For euir mare as ȝour subiect,
“And eftir this weir ȝour freind sall be
“Gif that it lykis to destane
“That I eschape, bot agane skill
“I aucht to be ay at ȝour will!”
“Schir,” said the fare dam Fezonas,
“I wald ȝe did na mare trespas!
And of my gudis, I warne ȝow weill,
I wald haue geuin ane weill great deill
With-thy that ȝe war nocht vterly
Our fa!” Than Cassamus can cry,
“Is the poune rostit?”—“ȝa, schir,” said ane,
“Brochit and fairssit ane weill quhyle gane!”
“Lordingis,” said auld Cassamus,
“Be all our Goddis and be Marcus,
I rede we to the pacok do
The vsage that coustumit is thair-to.
In this countre the vsage is
That ilk man avow sall his auyse;
And heirin is the wourthiest
That leuand is, and the best!
For at this burd thare is sittand
Outrage and schame, deispite neir-hand,
And wirship, hardement and vigour,
Ȝouthhede, fairheid and amour,
Lemman, eild and lufe, I wys—
The worst part vterly myne is!—

253

This is all that in armis lyis
Fra helm be set; sic is the sys!”
With that, thay luich and maid thare gamyng,
And ansuered with ane word, all samyng,
“Schir Cassamus, we grant thair-to!
As ȝe haue ordainit we sall do!”

Heir beginnys the Avous.

“Lordingis,” said auld Cassamus the hare,
“Sen we all assemblit are,
I rede we mak ane myrre day
Of gamyng, solace and of play;
And ȝow, schir Porrus, I requere
To comfort ȝow and mak gude cheir.
Ȝe sall be lousit, I tak on hand;
Of ȝour lowsing I hard tithand;
And, be ȝour Goddis euir ilkane,
I wald nocht all ȝour oist war tane
In my presone in the manere
As [ȝe] ar in our presone heir!
Ȝour great wirship and ȝour auyse
Had fandit and sesit our pryse!”
“Schir,” said Porrus, “it is na skill
To ganesay; I na will!
Bot I wald weill, ay quhill I leif,
Ilk ȝeir, of my gudis geif,
To the percunnand that I
War ay into sik company
And at the weir had tane ending,
Of ws and ouris and ȝour King!”
Said Cassamus, “ȝe ar wourthy,
And said ȝour auyse richt courtasly!”
With that, he callit on Eliot,—
That was ane madin full mynȝeot

254

That seruit Gaudefere and Betys
And thare syster, the fare and wys—
“Gar bring the poun delyuerly,
On the maner of Massony!”
The maydin rais, and with hir ȝeid
Ane menstrale, playand wale gude spede,
Vpone ane tympane playit weill;
And before Cassamus can kneill.
The auld reioysed was and can cry
With ioyfull hart, richt myrrely,
“This mete for douchty ordaned is,
That worthy ar ladeis for to kis.
Heirto suld men avow heyly,
And syne fulfill douchtelly,
Of armes and of amouris samin;
And I sall first begin the gammin!”
“Schir Cassamus,” said Elyot,
“Ȝe ar the eldest of the floit,
And vmest sittis in cumpany!
Avow the richt avowery!”
“My sweit, I grant,” said Cassamus,
“And avowes to the God Marcus:
Gif that the feild discumfit be
Throw Alexander and his menȝe,
And I Clarus, the King of Inde,
May at myscheif or failȝeing finde
Into defoull of stedes stamping,
Sa that he mister haue of helping—
That he sall succour haue of me
And helping, quhill he horsed be;
Syne ourmare I sall me draw;
And all this that ȝe heir me shaw,
It sall be done for Porrus saik,

255

That can ken cowartis for to quaik,
That taken is and haldin heir,
Throw his worship, in our dangeir!”
“Schir,” said Porrus, “ane hundreth syse
I thank ȝow, for, on quhatkin wyse
Sa euer it fall, ȝit sall ȝour meid
Be quit ȝow weill, and this fordeid!
For gude dede, gude saw na gude bounte
Suld neuer mare vnȝoldin be!”

Syne efter nixt sat Arrestes,
Richt at the first end of the des.
He was baith fare, courtes and wyse,
And douchty man of mekill pryse.
Eleos said him courtesly,
“Beaushir, ȝe that throw cheualry
Enchewis the weiris and the turnans
And is sa prysit with Grecians,
Avowes to our poun the richt!”
Arreste said, “fare madin bricht,
Ȝour peax be saued! I am nane of tha
That may sik michty maisteris ma!
Nocht-for-thy, I auow heir
And hechtis, that ȝe all may heir,
That throw-out all this mekill weir
I sall serue with sheild and speir
The folk that ar in the citie
And Fezonas, that is sa fre,
That of fyne farehede hes na peir!
I sall nocht be olk na ȝeir
Behynd, quhill ȝe appesit be
Of Clarus and of his menȝe,
Bot Alexanderis will, I say,

256

Haue me hyne with strenth away!”
“Beaushir,” said Fesonas the fre,
“Ȝour body ay mot blissit be!
And we sall, hale that heirin is,
Serue ȝow in worship at all deuis!”

Efter him nixt sat Perdicas,
Besyde the fare dame Fezonas
Mekill he was, stark and wele made,
Of courtassy yneuch he had,
Wyse and wele taucht in all hauing.
And hardy als, attour all thing;
He was bot xxx ȝeir of eild.
And Elyos blythly him beheld,
And said, “schir, ȝe that of valour,
Of worship and of honour,
Hes of all men rumor and cry,
Vowes the richt auowery!”
Said Perdicas, “my sweit thing,
I refuse nocht ȝour commanding,
Bot avowes and thareto hechtis:
Gif the King and Clarus fechtis
At set battell and certane day,
That, quhen the best cumis in array
Sa that the battell be purueyit,
To assemble hale arrayit,
That I sall licht in middes the feild
With helme, haubrek, spere and sheild,
To help the sariandis with my micht.
Thare sall I duell with thame and fecht,
Outher leif or dee quhether God will send,
Quhill that the battell cum to end
And be disconfit, that all may se!”

257

Quod Cassamus, “(sa mot I the!)
He na failȝeis that the vow hes hecht!
Na in the avow na in the knicht
Is nocht ane poynt of Cowardy,
Bot weill the mare he is hardy!”

Efter nixt sat Fesonas,
That ferly fare of figure and face.
Elyos said hir, “lady bricht,
Avow, madame, and hald ȝour hecht!”
“I grant thareto,” said Fesonas,
“And I avow and hechting mais
To Alexander the nobill King,
That cumis heir in our helping,
That for my saik the great riuage
Passis of Pharon the veage,
That I sall neuer maryed be
Na haue lemmen in priuate,
Bot I it haue throw his helping.
And quha-sa haldis this for lesing,
He knawes lytill my hart, I wis,
Or ȝit the will that tharein is!”
Cassamus said, “nece, be my fay,
Thow hes great ressoun sa to say!”

Qvhen Fesonas, the fare and wyse,
Had said hir will and hir auyse
That sho na lufe, loud nor still,
Suld haue but Alexanderis will,
To gude thay set it euerilk ane;
Of hir avow hir blamed nane.
And Elyos before Porrus
Arrested hir, and said him thus,
“Schir, leif the thocht that ȝow amouis,

258

And pay the poun that ȝow behouis!”
“Fare,” said Porrus, “with avowing
I may nocht dele, na with hechting,
Quhill that I am in presoun tane,
For of me power haue I nane.
Bot at my lousing wald I wele
Accord with ȝow euerilk dele.”
“Avow baldly!” said Floridas,
“For, be all goddis that euer was,
Ȝe may avow als hardelly
As all that ar in cheualry
May into armes to be ascheuit!
That I dar say, for I haue preuit
Ȝour strakes, and ȝour mekill micht
To-day hes fellit me in the ficht
And tuyse in suouning gart me ly!
Wald ȝe haue slane me, sikkerly
In all this warld thare was na man
That micht haue bene my warrand than!”
“Schir,” said Porrus full courtasly,
“To saue ȝour speke, I wald blythly
Be sik as ȝe deuyse me heir!”
“Ȝis,” said Floridas the feir,
“In ȝow is na thing to amend.
Sa great vertew hes God ȝow send
That, quha-sa micht in ten partis
Deale the worship that in ȝow is,
Men micht mak ten worthy and wicht,
Large and forssy for to ficht,
Of the outtragious worsheip
That God hes geuin ȝow to keip!”
Porrus him hard and changed hew,

259

For ane ȝarning of lufe all new
Him tuiched throw the hart, I hecht;
And that was throw any suddane sicht
Of Fesonas fresh colour;
And of ȝouthhede and amour
In him was assembled na foly,
Thocht he on hie cheualry
Set his intent and his etling,
For louers desyres to haue louing;
For-thy he wald enfors his vow
And doubill it, quha sall allow.
And Elyos can to him say,
“Schir, ȝe aucht not, na ȝe na may,
Forsaik this avow on na kin skill!”
“Fare,” said Porrus, “sen ȝe it will,
I will assent me but dangere,
And avow, and als will suere:
Discomfit I sall the great battale,
Quha-euer defend, quha-euer assale,
Gif God fra dede will saue me first,
Fra menȝeing and fra lymmes brist;
And with Emynedus first sall I
Iust and assay his cheualry;
His hors but dout sall ga with me,
Maugre quha-sa anoyit be!”
“Schir,” said Lyoun, “(sa God me rede!)
It is full hard to win that stede!
And gif that ȝe that hors may win
And bring him to marcat or chapin,
Wonnin vpone sik ane wyse,
I sall gar wey him fyfty syse
With the best gold that man may finde

260

In Arraby, in Egypt or in Inde!”

Qvhen Porrus his awin avow had made,
All him beheld and ferly hade,
And said amang thame preually,
“This vow is outtragious and hardy!
Sa hie avow made neuer nane!
Quhare sall men find of fleshe or bane
Ony that may it fulfill?
Great pane and trauell lyis thare till!
Great hap and great hardement,
Great strenth and great auysment,
Him byrd to haue, forouttin faill,
That suld vincus the great battaill!
And for to reif the dukes stede,
It war ane vndemus hardy dede,
For quhen the fecht assembled is,
He salbe the worthyest, I wis,
That beis in that assemble,
Or euer was, or euer sall be!”
Fesonas him beheld and thocht
That but great hart he is nocht
That sik ane thing had vndertane;
And to hir-selfe sho said allane,
“Happy micht that lady be
That sik ane husband had as he
Thocht [he] to ruse haue na beute,
Of great worship and bounte
Attour all vther he sall appere;
And gif the avow be fare to here,
It will alwayes farar be.
The worthyest of the warld is he!”
Thus Fesonas in hir thinking

261

Delyted hir and had lyking.

And Eleos before Ydeas
Said, “my lady fare of face,
Auowes heir-to quhat euer ȝe will!”
“Fare,” said that sueit, “I grant thairtill
And Auowes that the poune sall be
Restorit, that ȝe all may se,
Of purest gold richt fare and fyne;
And he that it wirkis, he sall set it syne
With sement vpone ane piller
Of marbill polist, fare and cleir.
That sall be the restoring,
That he and sho sall haue menyng
That euer it seis, of oure affere,
Of our vowis and our weir!”
“Dam,” said Porrus, “God gif ȝow meid
Thi great guerdoun and foredeid!”

On athir half Dam Ydeas,
That was sa fare of fax and face,
The Bauderane sat with ferly fere;
And Eleas, that the poune couth beir,
To him said, “Beauschir, avowis heir-till!”
He said, “my fare thing, and I will
Avow, and tharto hechting mais:
Gif the mekill battale furth gais,
That I sall haue the burnist brand
Out of the ryall Kingis hand,
That hechtis and geuis sa largely.
I sall gang reif him sickerly
In myddis the flur of his menȝe!
Quha euer it help, sa sall it be!”
Amang thame great murmour rais;

262

And said amang thame that he was
Full of wodnes and foly
That had avowit sa hatandly.

And Caulus ansuered, that was wraith,
“And I avow and sueris baith
That I sall haue thyne helm of steill
Thocht it be festnit neuer sa weill,
Or ellis thy hede I sall of ryf,
Or armis sall brek and all to-dryf!
Thow hes avowit outrageously
And vndemous hardely
Quhen thow the worthiast that leiffis
Wndir the heuin and maist gude geuis
Suld reif his suerd amang vs all!
Be all our Goddis, gif it mycht fall
That thow it wyn on sik manere
And thow may bring it to vs heir,
I sall gar pay the, in ane stound,
Of siluer ane houndreth thousand pund,
That nocht ane penny sall be ill!
Now may thow win gif weirdis will!”
The Bauderane said, “Beauschir, perfay,
Heir fallis na wraith nor ȝit deray!
The auowis ar to all men common,
Bot ȝit, or all the play be done,
The hardest lyis at the escheuing.
Thare fallis in armis mony thing,
And mare ferly ane houndreth syse,
Than man can wit how it may ryse.
And wyse men in ane prouerb sayis,
That to laute hes E aluais,
That quhen ane deid wele and sadly

263

Beginning is and hardely,
It is, to gude vnderstanding,
Weill neir brocht to gude ending.”
“Lordingis, I rede,” said Cassamus,
“We schute this speke, for, be Marcus,
I hope that ilk wounder weill,
[OMITTED] ore ilka deill,
[OMITTED] thede and strenth, I wis.
[OMITTED] assemblit Is,
[OMITTED]d hardement weill dar prufe,
Illuminit with the low of lufe,
And he haue winning weill to do
And weill geuis his assent thairto,
It is ferly that na hart bristis,
Or ellis that luffar leuand lestis!”

Qvhen the Bauderane on his wyse
Had maid his vow and his empryse,
Dam Ydorus, that sat him neir,
Maid hir avow on this manere:
Scho [said], “I haue to my lemman
Hecht my lufe of lang tyme gane,
That myne hes ȝarnit and gaif me his,
And thocht I gif him myne, I wis,
I bird nocht blamit for to be,
For he fulfillit is of all bounte,
Baith hardy and worthy, I wis,
And voydit of all cowardys,
Ȝoung, fare and auenand,
Of sueit and gracious sembland.
And I avow, for his gentrice,
I sall him lufe forout fantice,
With steidfast hart and trew and fyne!”

264

Quod Cassamus, “fare cousine,
Thow hes great ressoun, sen amour
The leares to leif in that labour!”

Nixt Idorus was set Lyoun,
That throw his wit and his ressoun
And his wisdome was Marshale
Of Alexanderis hoste all hale.
Elyas to him said in hy,
“Schir, ȝe that, throw ȝour cheualry,
Of mony fare worship hes louing,
And quhen Alexander the King
Send furth seuin hundreth to forray
Besyde Gaderis in ane valay,
Thare come on ȝow the Duke Betys
With xxx thousand men of prys,
And for defalt of messingere
Ȝe had bene slane all but were,
And wald nocht ga for lufe nor threat,
Althocht ȝe saw the perell great!”
Full courtasly said Lyonell,
“My awin fare, sueit damysell,
It was perfurneist douchtely
With ane better all out than I!
His bowellis on his forther arsoun,
In the skirt of his habersoun,
Wounded throw the corps, I wis,
Fyue syse or sex, and ȝit he is
Leuand, I loif God! Lo quhare
He sittis, with the furrit mantill thare!”
Arreste than eshamed was,
And smait doun smartly with the fas.

265

Then leuch thay all that him can se,
And Elyot said, “shir, ȝe suld be
Cherest and honored attour all thing,
And of all haue lufe and louing.
Avowes ȝour avow, shir Lyonell!”
“I grant thareto, fare damysell!
And I avow and hechtis baith,
That sall perfurnist be full raith:
I sall me arme forouttin lete,
Now alssone efter the mete,
And all allane of this toun
Ryde to Clarus pauillioun,
And of his eldest sone ask iustyne!
This sall I do, quhat euer cum syne,
Althocht I suld tharefore be tane
Or with our fais defoulit or slane!”
Quod Cassamus, “be God of mycht,
This vow is gentill to my sicht!
Hes he nocht thocht to purches pryce
And to win honour at deuyce,
I hope this gate wald nocht be gane,
Na ȝit this veage vndertane!
But worship, treuth and laute,
That God hes geuin ȝow of plente,
And the great vertew of amour
Hes set ȝour will on that labour.
Tharefore ȝe sould haue cherisyng
With all men, and great louing,
As it is gude ressoun and skill;
And to our Goddis pray I will,
And to ȝouris alsua, that ȝe
Ay loued and honored be!”

266

Lyonell was glaid and blyth
Quhen he had vowit, for alsuyth
He thocht it suld escheuit be.
Syne nixt him sat Floridas the fre,
That into thank tuke na thing
Of the speke na of the auowing
That the soudain of Bauderis maid
Thairof full great dispite he had
That he auansit him to reif
The suerd of Alexanderis neif.
His hart in ire was hate in hy,
And to himself all priualy
He said, “it sall be bocht full deir!
Or it war winnin on that maneir,
He prysit lytill the Greions
And weill les the Massidons!
For to the Kingis rialte
It war great dispyte and velany,
And to the knichtis of Grece it war
Reprufe and schame for euer mair!”
Eleos him beheld and luch,
And said, “vassale, ȝe think yneuch!
Ȝe ar amouit sa hardely!
Quhareon is that ȝe think quhy?”
“Perfay, madame,” said Floridas,
“Sic ane ferly neuer it was!
Ȝone vassale with the furret weid,
Quhen ilk man armit be on his steid,
Suld reif the King of Grece his suerd,
That throw wirship and throw werd,
Throw largenes and throw bounte,
Hes winnin sa mony fare citie!

267

He pryses vs lytill and les vs dredes!
That the gude King, ay quhen vs nedes,
Hechtis and geuis forouttin let,
And als his larges, is euill set,
Gif he him did sik ane outtrage,
Seand it halely his barnage.
Gif it sa fall, haue he neuer blis
That baith our lord and our King is,
Gif he vs leif of land ane grote;
And syne gar hang vs be the throte
On gallous withouttin hone!
Sa-gates sould he weill haue done!”
And the Bauderane delyuerly,
Ansuered and said full courtasly,
“I pray that it be, Beaushire,
But melancoly, fellone or ire!
Euenture hes vs impresoned here,
And this gude man with nobill cheer
Hes maid vs here assemble
In ioy, solace and in iolyte,
For-thy that ilk man suld say
All hale that in his hart lay.
And gif outtrage hes me ourtane
And I vnwittandly hes gane,
The charge and the great traualing
Lyis hale in the esheuing!
My body of pane and of trauailȝie
Mon charged be, vailȝe quod vailȝe,
And gif the Goddis throw euentour
Wald send me sik hap and honour
That I micht encheif my avow,
It suld be turned to pryce, I trow!”

268

Said Floridas, “(sa haue I seill!)
Thow hes spoken richt wonder weill,
And I as full myne intent
Hes shawin forout auysement.
Now taik we lesyng or suith saw
All in to ioy eurerilk thraw,
Na for the King of Greces saik
Sall na man melancoly maik!
Gif it happin that sa may be
That God hes dampned in distane
That thow may hap and power haue
To refe his sword, attour the laue
Is warnest of great hardynes
And worship byrnand and stoutnes—
And I avow to the crouned King
That honored is attour all thing
That, or thow haue that burnest brand
Borne halfe ane aker-breid of land,
I sall the assailȝe sua
That maugre thyne I sall the ta
And lede to him as presoun,
Or ellis in tua I sall trunshoun
Thy body all euerilk deill,
Thocht it war tempered all with steill!
And gif I na do as I deuyse,
Na se I neuer my brother Dauryse
Na Dedefere, my fare citte,
Quhill that the King haue hanged me!
Counsell the here with thy kin,
For thow art set to tyne or win!”
The Bauderane said, “(sa haue I seill!)
Thow hes encountered me richt wele,

269

And say na thing bot laute.
Blessed mot thy father be
That the gat! and the King alsua
Dois na foly of the to ma,
For he hes treasure nane the till!
And gif that I haue said my will,
Forgif me! bot my avowing
I sall fulfill attour all thing!”
Quhen this avow had Floridas
Maid before thame all that thare was,
(Byrnand in dispyte and pryde),
And the Bauderane, that sat besyde,
Had said his will and his gle,
Thare was nane in that semble
That na was moued in his mude
And changed hewis quhare he stude.

“Lordingis,” than said Cassamus,
“That lykes me, be our God Marcus!
This discorde is fare to se!
He that it hates, shent mot he be!
Ȝit sall thare-throw, I vnderstand,
Be strykken mony strake with hand.
Now may men se quha hes ȝarning
To win great honour and louing,
Begun throw worship and vigour
And endit with pryce and honour,
Dere bocht with speres on sheldis bricht.
The worthy man seruis ane ransoun richt!
That worship in the weill doand
Suld na man hyde na be heland,
Bot oft with gude hart makes recording
To gar the doar haue louing!

270

Sa may men to euill deid
Be quyte the gude, honour and the meid.
Lo! the tyme cumming is, parde,
Of the nobill renounit Iorne
That wirship weddit beis at richt,
In blude and harnes, throw birneis bricht,
Sall baithit be thare burnist brandis
Throw sturdy strakis of stalwart handis,
And vnder feit defoullit be
Throw brount of hors and chad-melle,
Quhare sum salbe vnsound and seik;
Ȝone knychtis schewis it vs in speke.
Bot, to my dome, he beis nocht ill
That in that thrang may haue his will!
And nocht-for-thy weill pruuit ys
That ane cowart throw cowardys
Sall hewin all to pecis be
Or blude be drawin on ane hardy;
And quha-sa him defendis weill,
Men will gif him gude roum to reill
And leif him oft-syse voyd the way.
Lordingis, to ȝow is that I say,
That sik thing hes spokin heir
That sall be bocht and sauld full deir!”
“Fare Eme,” said Fezonas the fre,
“Now sall the wirship newit be
Of auld men, that forȝet hes bene!”
Said Cassamus, “fare cousing schene,
I wald nocht vthir-wais it war,
For fyne gold to charge ane chare!”

Cassamvs was in company
Blyth and glaid, wyse and witty,

271

And in battale cruell and kene,
And greatly of the warld hes sene.
He lukit to Gaudifeir his cousyne,
And, lauchand, to him said he syne,
“Fare cousing, now fallis to the!
Avow at poynt that thow nocht be
Repruuit on na manere!”
The child ansueret without affere,
And said, “Eme, be the Goddis all
That I honour and honour sall,
The knychtis of Ynd that heir I se
Hes left nocht that I may avow to me,
Hes maid thair avous sa outrageous,
Sa wounder hautane and sa greuous,
That, agane thairis, ma na avow
Be fare to pryse na to allow;
Sa that I wait nocht quhat to say!
I am abaysit, for, be my fay,
Ane mychtiar than I mycht faill
To discumfit the great battale!
Porrus sall vincus it, I wis,
That for that wark weill ordourit is,
Mychty in armes and richt hardy
And weill taucht in cheualry;
And syne he sall reif his steid
Fra the douchtiast in deid
That leiffis vnder the firmament.
Bot he him venge, I had him schent!
And lo! ȝonder the Bauderane,
That vndertane hes in certane
For to reif the nobill King
His suerd amang all his gadering,

272

Quha-sa euer be wraith or blyth!
And Caulus answered him alsuyth
That he suld haue his helme but let,
Thocht it war on with symont set.
Thir ar men all made of stele
Or of Dyamontis, auerilk dele!
Nocht-for-thy, for to avow
I am alreddy purueyed now.
I vow and hechtis and ȝit I will
That ȝe wit, baith gude and ill,
That richt at Clarus ensinȝe
My hors brydill (I) sall renȝe,
The mekill hand-ax in my hand,
That sharpe is and wele sherand.
The standart and the gumfioun
Sall baith throw me be dungin doun
Ay quhill the vmest lauchest be!”
“Schir,” said Porrus full courtesle,
“It war great harme that sa suld fall,
For than war we discumfit all!”

Said Elyot, “me think throw skill
This avow is hard to fulfill
And greuous vpone great manere!”
“My fare sueit,” said Gaudefere,
“I haue avowit as fule suld do,
Bot neidlingis thare behuffis thairto
To set wening agane wening!
Bot all lyes in the escheuing,
And quha-sa micht escheue it weill,
I trow he suld euer ilka deill
Be turnit to worship and manhede!”
“Schir,” said that shene, “(sa God me rede!)

273

Gif it na war hope and winning,
Come neuer ȝit ȝong man to lowing!”
“Thow sayis suith,” he sayis, “perfay!
Now lat it happin how-euer it may!”
Said Eleos, “schir, it may weill fall
This auow, and weill mare with all,
And hecht, richt weill for to fullfill,
Bot gif ȝe wrocht aganis skill.
Ȝour father was the nobillest knycht
That euer bare brand or birny bricht.
His wirship may me neuer noun,
And of gude father suld cum gude soun.
And heir-in als is nyne or ten
Of the nobillest and worthiast men
That men may in the warld recouer
Or ellis the firmament may couer!
And ȝe, schir, suld reiois thame all
And part the poune to great and small
And kneill before the worthiest
And profer it him, as for the best!”

[_]

At least two lines of text are missing here.

“Sa ar thay travalit to win prys
That the warst, to myne auyse,
Hes sa great wirship and valour
That he aucht haue all honour.
And tharof thocht I faill, parde,
I aucht nocht blamit for to be
With na resoun!”—and, with that word,
He lansit lichtly our the burd,
And tuke with him dam Ydeas,
And Ydorus, the fare of face.
Quha had bene thair that nicht to se,
He micht haue sene throw Iolite
The folk reiois thame Iolely,

274

That ȝede and come wele merrely,
Carralland with semely sang,
And myrth of menstrally thame amang.

In Iupiters great palyce
Quhare thay of Grece war at auyce,
Before the burd begouth the ioy.
Idorus, that was myld and moy,
Sang richt myrrely and cleir,
And Edeas on hir maneir
Affectit, for hir amouris fyne,
Hir lykit to lufe vnder that lyne.
And Elyos full mynȝeotly
Dansit and carralit fetasly,
And bare the poun, that all micht se.
Gaudefere syne, lord of Calde,
Before thame syne in carrell ȝeid,
Cled into ane silkin weid;
Sa wonder fare and sa fetys,
And he was maid at all deuys,
And sa worthy and worthyer
That was to seik outher neir or far.
To him than the poun he tais,
And sa furthe to the burd he gais,
And he turned fetasly,
Carraland richt iolely,
And sindre syne to ilk barroun
He profferd and presented the poun
Sa that nane couth wittering get
Before quhome [he] the poun wald set.
Quhen he had maid all his turning
Baith here and thare, and his louting,
Before the douchty Arreste

275

He knelit doun vpoun his kne,
And said him, lauchand lufsumly;
“This poun, shir, and the pris hailly
I gif ȝow als frely as I may!”
Arreste said, “beaushir, perfay,
To me na fallis it nocht na lyis,
Na I will tak on na wyis,
For gif I did, (sa God me red!)
Agane resoun halely I ded!
At this burde sittis all hale—
That dar I say and hald my tale—
Of worthyer than euer I was.
Lo! thare the douchty Floridas,
That florisheth into ȝouth-hede
And wonder douchty is of dede!
Porrus alsua and the Bauderane,
The quhilk I wald richt ferly fane
Resemble in dede, gif that I micht!
I haue thame sene in stour of ficht.
Gif I thame se ane vther tyde,
Throw the parting of routis ryde
Wonder weill can I thame knaw!
For-thy, gude shir, this is my saw,
And suth is, and I may be trowit
And my ressoun weill allowit,
For quhen that ȝouth-hede, I wis,
And fyne amour followand is,
And byrnand ȝarning of amour
Thame ledes for to win honour,
Worship mon nedes, and hardement,
Tak thare arrest with hale assent!
For-thy, beaushir, pas on thy way!

276

I will na mair thairof, perfay!”
“Fare, sueit schir,” said Gaudefeir,
“I wait nocht, bot on all maneir
I gif ȝow that in me is!
God gif the laif, for that is his!”
The poun than set he doun in hy,
And brak it syne richt courtasly,
And set it amang the knychtis.
Quod Cassamus, “be God of mychtis,
Sueit cousing, gif I dar say,
Thow set it quhare my thocht was ay!”

The folk in Ioy and lyking was,
The poune is etin with great solace,
And the avowes ar avowit thair
Of seir ententis, that sumdeill war
Hard, greuous and outrageous
And to perfurnys perellous.
The claith thay drew; at thair wescheing
Was menstrally, mirth and singing.
And Lyonell on fute can ryse,
That manly maid was on all wyse,
And, lauchand, said his fallowis till,
“We sall ga sone for to fulfill
Our vow before the pauillons!
Gar bring me sone my blasonis
And haubrek and vthir geir!”
Thare eftir smertly ȝeid Gaudefeir
And brocht his gere, I warne ȝow weill,
That gude and fare was ilka deill.
Than Lyonell him armyt suyith,
And lap vpone his steid all suyth,
To God betaucht his fallowis raith,

277

The madinnis and the presoners baith,
And went him furth richt waill gude speid,
In sterapis straucht sterand his steid.
Quhy suld I mak to lang my tale?
Thus armit into harnes hale,
He went furth at port Iuory,
The ȝet that nixt was to the sey.
With helme imbraissed, braissand his sheild,
His steid he vallopped in the feild,
And quhen thay of the hoste him saw
Cum anerly without fallaw,
And Clarus tit was tald,
“Lordingis,” said Clarus the ald,
“We sall haue tythandis sone at hand!
Lo him at our hand cumand!”

Now Lyonell, as gude vassale,
Raid armit in his harnes hale.
The nerrest way that he micht finde,
He raid toward the hoste of Inde.
The oistis than baith hes him sene,
And on him gouit baith bedene.
And Alexander into ane slaid
Sat, to behauld the watter braid;
On the crages quhare he sat doun
He blenked vp and saw Lyoun,
And knew him sterand his steid
And by his armour and his weid
And by his sheild and armour fyne
With lyounes of golde thairin.
Said Alexander, “now dar I swere
This were is war than it was ere.”
Said Alexander, “now, lordingis fre,

278

Be all the Goddis of the se,
Ȝonder I se ryde Lyonell,
That aucht I for to lufe richt weill!
For me than hes he mony trauale
Endurit in stour and in battale!
To the I say, schir Tholomere,
And to Dauclene als, thy fere,
I haue sik ferly, be my fay,
That I na wait quhat to do na say!
Quhat garris him ryde sa anerly?”
“Schir,” said ane child delyuerly,
“I sall ȝe tell the enchesoun.
Richt now I come attour Pharoun!”
“Now say on smertly!” said the King.
“Schir,” said the child, “foroutin lesing,
Of sic ferlys hard neuer nane
In to na tyme that euer was gane.
The baronis was enterit, pair and pair,
Into the palace of Iupiter,
In Ioy, solace and in gamyng,
To eis thame and to schort thame samyng.
Gentill King, at thare dynere
Thay had ane poun, with danteis sere.
For the Ioy euir ilk barroun
Behuffit to avow, as it was resoun,
And I haue hard thare avowis all,
Ane and ane, baith great and small,
Sa stout, sa perrelous and greuous,
Sa hardy and sa outrageous,
That be gude resoun it war foly
For to think thame anerly!
Gude King, thar was presoneris tua,

279

The Bauderane and Porrus alsua;
For thare wirship and thare valour
I saw men do thame great honour.
I hard Porrus hecht and sueir:
Gif that God wald him weir
Fra deid and fra menȝeing,
Fra myscheif and lymis bristing,
That he suld vincus the great battale,
And als he said, ‘I sall assaill
Emynedus and win Ferrand,
Maugre quha wald him warrand!’”
Emynedus ansuerit tharto
And said it war richt eith to do,
To sic ane bachiller as he!
Than luich the King and said, “parde,
Schir duke, now haue ȝe for to ȝeme!
Gif ȝe na keip him, men will deme
That euill sould ȝe ane vthir win
In feild quhare ȝe tyne ȝouris in!”
“Lat me speik mair!” said the suane,
“Of ȝow and of the Bauderane,
That auancit him ȝour suerd to reif,
Maugre ȝouris, out of ȝour neif!
And Caulus ansuerit wraithfully,
And said in ire, all haitfully,
‘And I avow and sweris weill
That I sall haue thy helm of steill
And the quaif that is thare vndir,
Or ellis thy nek sall brek in schounder!’
And Floridas for pure dispyte
Ȝeid neir-hand wode, and said als tyte
That he to ȝow suld ȝeld him tane

280

Forouttin help, all him allane,
Or trunshoun him in tua ilk deill,
Thocht he tempered war with steill!”
“Freind,” said Alexander the King,
“That is to thank in mekill thing!
Ȝit haue I freindis thare, parde,
God saue thame, gif his willis be,
And gif me grace mak guerdoun!
Bot me mislykes of Lyoun,
That I se rydand, him allane.”
“Schir,” said the chyld, “Lyoun is gane
For to iust with Caneus,
The eldest sone of auld Clarus.
God lat him, for his mekill valour,
Repare agane with his honour!”

Alexander had great reioysing
Of the wordis and thare hechting,
And callit Emynedus, and said,
“How think ȝe, shir, that thay haue plaid?”
“Schir,” said the duke, “at myne etling,
Ladyes war at thare avowing.
The beginning of lufing
Hes shapin to vs the barganing.
The grants of lufe sall vs be sald,
And amorous thochtis mony-fald.
We mon by thare sueit blenking,
Thare greuous speche and thare playing!
Ȝon ar the men that ar worthy
And ȝoung, ioyfull and ioly,
Stout, staluart and hardy,
In armes nurist michtely,
Ȝarnand for to haue louing

281

And worship, rich of wening,
That sik ane thing hes vndertane
Thay sall be outher shent or slane,
Or we defoulit! les may nocht be!
Gif men ȝow reiffis ȝour suord, perde,
And me my steid, great dishonour
Vs fallis, and thame mensk and honour!
Sen thay haue thame auansit sa,
Schape we vs to thame alsua,
And gif we foly agane foly,
And sa-gait mak we ane iepardy!
Bot ane vantage thay haue, I wis,
And ane treasure that ryall is,
Of amouris and of ladyes dere
That ar of beuty fare and clere;
And ȝit ar thay, with all this weill,
Luffaris new and lemmens leill!”
Said Alexander, “that is great ryches,
Great treasure and great nobilnes,
And gif thay sagait varnist be,
Vnvarnist ar we nocht, parde!
For gif that I haue tynt my brand,
My freinds ar deid, I tak on hand!”
Thus thay leuch and made solas
And said quhat that thare lyking was,
And ȝit, for all thare iolyte,
The quentest sall abased be.

Thvs Alexander the nobill King
Maid his scorning and his hething
With the duke Emynedus,
And of the Bauderane manance, and Porrus;
And Lyoun richt sturdely

282

Raid throw the hoste of Inde halely
Richt to Clarus awin tent.
Ane knaif saw he, weill cled and gent,
In tunicall of ane camell rede,
All shorne in sheuers fra stede to stede.
“Chylde,” said Lyoun, “cum here!
For the faith thow owis to Iupitere,
Gang and say the King of micht
That here is cum ane strange knicht
To ask of his eldest sone iusting!
And thow sall haue at our parting
My coit, quhan I am lychtit doun!”
Quhan the chylde hard this ressoun,
Ane great race to the pauillioun
He ran, quhare set was ane baroun,
And cryed, “quhare art thow, Caneus?
Great honour is fallin the, be Marcus,
And great ioy for-outtin wene!
Ane knicht thare bydes the on the grene,
That Alexanderis fallow is!
Lyoun is his name, I wis,
He is stark and styth in stall
And of great worship chosin our all.
To iust with the is his intent!
Arme the suith, or thow art shent!”
“Brother,” said Caneus, “I will.
Ga say that I will cum him till
Alssone as I haue armed me,
For welcum mot that gude man be!”

Now gangis the page for-outtin mare
Furth, in stede of messingare,
And said to Lyoun in that tyde,

283

“Tak nocht in euill, thocht ȝe abyde!
Ȝe sall be sone (sa haue I meid!)
Serued with Caneus on his steid!”
Than Marciane come by that sted,
Betys, his presoner, with him led.
Quhen Lyoun him saw, in hy
On Betys heyly can he cry,
“How fares thow, freind? hes thow mistere
Of ocht that we may do the here?”
Betys ansuered, “God gif ȝow meid
And help ȝow ay quhen ȝe haue neid!
Bot quhat Garris ȝow cum rydand sa,
Thus anerly, for-outtin ma?”
“Brother,” said Lyoun, “gude cumpany
First, and syne gude musardy!”
Than he tald him the avowes all,
Ane and ane, baith great and small,
How ilk man can avow and manas.
Than ferleid all that euer thare was
How ony man on ony wyse
Durst vndertak sa hie ane pryse;
And thay said amang thame preually,
“To vs think we ȝone is great foly!”
Ane chyld to Clarus than is gane,
And tald that “thare was cummin ane
Of thame of Grece to iust and play
With ȝour sone and him-selfe assay,
For ane spere or tua or thre,
Without ony velane;
And prayis that he nocht crabed be,
For he come nocht for melancole
Na to do na dispyte nor shame,

284

Bot he avowit, lang ere at hame,
And his fallowis, ilkane seir,
Maid thare avow on thare maneir,
And vndertuke to hald thair hecht
Or leif thare bodeis in the plicht;
And he is cum worship to win,
Before his fallowis to begin.”
“Perfay,” said Clarus the hare,
“I lufe him wele alway the mare.
Now will I gang him for to se
And conuoy him to the citte.
Gar bring me my palfray hastelly!”
And thay him brocht delyuerly.
He lap on, and four thousand
Him followit, at the fute neir-hand.
Into the mekill realme of Inde,
Quhare men sa great effere micht finde
Of tentis and of pauilliounis,
All ludged thame the barrounis.
Thare was ane fare ourcouered feild,
Quhare Lyoun hufit and thame beheld
With lytle affray and fare effere,
Lenand him vpone his spere.
About him was sik ane menȝe
That nane mare micht numered be.
Of the hoste of Inde, I wene,
Thare mekill semble micht be sene,
And on the walles of the citte,
Quhare mony ane lady of bounte
That of amour inamoured was
Was sittand for to se that cas,
That in the landis of Calde

285

Prayit for Lyonell the fre.
And Caneus Ischit out of his tent,
Armit weill Baith fare and gent,
Into his hand his aune banere,
Wpone his steid of seuin ȝeir,
In grein samyt couerit ilk deill,
Quhare sat ane Egill of gold richt weill
Les than ane pace on brydill he raid,
Come to the renk and thare he baid,
And the herald richt hard can cry,
That ettylit to haue haistaly
The coit-armour of Lyonell
That with gold was bordorit weill,
“Woydis the renks, lordis, woydis!
Lo wirship, armour and bounteis,
Birnand in strenth and vigour,
Enuironit with hardement and honour!
Makis halely renk Intermellie!
I sall haue sone to my soldie
Ȝone Carpet, that is fare yneuch!”
He hynt it and to him dreuch
With baith his handis, bot the steid,
Stertand, can the noyes dreid
And with his fute that vassale
He hit quhill he lay top our tale.
Thareat leuch four thousand
And in hething said him lauchand,
“Thow ȝarned to haue sa great ane gage.
Now tak that, vassale, for thy vage!”
And Caneus raid sturdely,
Baith hard, euen and iolely.
Quhen Lyonell him saw thare,

286

He changed will, forouttin mare.
His hart rais within and grew,
And his stede, that he richt wele knew,
With spurris he straik, cryand his ensenȝe;
The stede him straucht, that wald nocht fenȝe.
Thay sprang togidder as tempest;
It semit that all suld be brest.
Caneus cumis; on helmes hie,
Abone the sicht ane lytle wie,
Sik strakes thay gaue that men micht here
Full far away the noyes and bere.
The speiris all to-frushit thare;
And far by passit withouttin mare.
“Be our God, michty Marcus,
Lo here fare iusting!” said Clarus,
“I haue ridden mony far iorne
In Asia, Affrik and mony far countre,
Ȝit saw I neuer iusting sa met
And sa graithly thare strakes set!
Now seis ȝe, lordis, great ferly,
How that worship in the worthy
Spreids alwayes and florishes
And puttis thame to purches pris!”
Said Marciane, “sik is destane:
Hardy will may nocht houin be!”
Said Marciane, “eme, men aucht to pryse
And honour vpone mony wyse
Hardy will in man of micht.
Amowes ȝow nathing at ȝon knicht,
For he is cum to purches pryse,
And ȝour sone vpon this wyse
Will help him to win manhede!

287

And thay ar michty, baith, in dede,
And riche of winning, wit ȝe weill,
And ilkane armit in gude steill,
And hes baith helme, sheild and spere
And countis bot small ane lytle dangere.
Lat we thame ȝit ane cours assay
And ȝe sall se, I hope, perfay,
Pryde prekand aganis stoutnes
And wirship aganis hardenes!”
“Now be it sa!” said auld Clarus,
“Quhare I betech thame to Marcus!”
And Marciane, with that, can cry.
Quhen Lyonell him hard, in hy,
Brandisand his speir, he ȝeid
Throw out the feild, prekand his steid;
And Caneus, on the vther party,
Come hard, euin and surely.
In myddes the teith sik routis thay raucht,
Manlyke as men of mekill maucht,
That baith thair speiris, throw strenth of steid,
Richt to thare neiffis in peces ȝeid.
With bodeis, breistis and sheildis raith
Thay hurkled, and with heidis baith,
Sa hard that gyrthis in shunders glaid
And to the earth baith bakwardis raid
And lay ane lang quhyle in suowning.
Said Marciane, “be heauins King,
I dar weill witnes that this knicht
Is douchty man, worthy and wicht,
And hardy man attour all thing,
Of stedfastnes but affraying!
Now ga we furth and gar him ryse,

288

And honour him and lufe and pryse,
And refresch him with watter in hy!
To solace him is courtasy!”
Said Clarus, “I grant thair-to.
How euer thow ordanis, sa sall I do!”
“Eme,” said Marciane, “I rede
That we gang him of that steid,
And auent him and wesch his wyce,
And set him on his steid of price,
And conuoy him quhethir he will ga,
Gif he mare duelling here will ma!
Fare Eme, it is great courtasy
To honour gude men and worthy.
I will ga with him, gif ȝe rede,
In cumpany richt to thare stede,
For to ostage the presonis
Or delyuer thame for ransonis,
And thay gude men ask I will
Trewis, gif thay will grant thair till.”
Said Clarus, “I accord me weill.”
With that, he come to Lyoneill
And said him with courtes resoun,
“Will ȝe gang to my pauilloun
And sleip ane quhyle and rest ȝow thair?”
“Na!” said Lyonell, “bot ham-wart fare!
Gar bring me, gif ȝour willis be,
My hors!” and Clarus said, “parde,
Blythly, and gif the alsua
Ane palfray ambuland in assay.
Thy hors is fare in mekill thing
To ryde hame for his hard ganging.”
“I refuse nocht,” said Lyonell,

289

“Ȝour gyft, bot ȝit than wald I weill
Serue ȝow in thank quhan euer I may!”
Than lap he on the palfray
And at Betys his leif hes tane,
And syne to Caneus is he gane,
And tuke his leif and furth is went;
And Marciane, the fare and gent,
With him held to the citte,
For he his warrand weill may be.

Now repares Lyonell,
His avow hes fulfillit weill,
And fra Clarus the auld, I wis,
Richt courtesly departed is;
And Marciane, one his condit,
Raid throw the hoste of Inde all quite.
The ladeis saw him of the tour;
Dame Fesonas with fresh colour
Ȝeid formest doun, hir fallowis syne,
And met him at port Eboryne.
Quhen he the ladyes saw cumand,
He lychted sone, I tak on hand,
And suaked fra him spere and sheld
And helme richt flatlingis in the feild.
And, als armit as he was,
He made great ioy of Fesonas
And said, “madin, to this knicht here
Mak ioy, honour and great chere!
For he hes seruit it richt weill.
He led me throw thare hostes ilk deill,
And hidder is cum with me, I wis.
Clarus sister sone he is,
And Marciane to name he hecht.”

290

Said Fesonas, “be God of micht,
Quhat he is I knaw apartly!”
With that, sho went to him in hy
And, lauchand, by the hand him tane,
To Venus chalmer ar thay gane.
Thare was Porrus and the Bauderane,
That of Bauderis was soudane;
Playand at the ches thay ware
For to forȝet noy and care.
Quhen thay saw Marciane nere-hand,
Abased thay war, I vnderstand.

Qvhen that Porrus and the Bauderane
Saw Marciane thare, him allane,
Thay left the play and vp thay rais,
And of his cuming he sais:
“Lordingis,” said Marciane, “be blyth!
Ȝe salbe delyuered alsuyth.”
“Ȝa!” said Porrus, “our fare quha wait,
Ȝe may knaw sumpart of our stait.”
And Marciane him said, smyland,
As in halfe hething bourdand,
“Cousing, gif euer I knew ressoun,
Ȝe ar baith in luffis presoun!”
“Fare cousing,” said the Bauderane, “ȝa!
The presoun lestis and noys sa
That in fyne lufe the lele ȝarning
Growis, restis and takis roting.
Mare to lele lufe fallis nocht,
Bot as ȝarning, assent and thocht.”
With that, come in ane rout gangand
The knichtis of Grece, hand in hand,
Caulus, Arreste and Perdicas,

291

Gaudefere and Floridas,
And Cassamus before thame ȝeid.
Honour and ioy in word and dede
Ilkane bare vther, great and small.
To Lyonell syne went thay all
And asked him of his effere:
“Schir, (loued be God!) better than ere!
I haue fulfilled myne avow, I hecht,
And iustit with the nobillest knicht,
The starkest and the best rydand,
That euer ȝit in my lyfe I fand!
And I fand Clarus alsua
Wyse and courtes, and gart me ta
Ane palfray wele ambland, I wis,
And Marciane here cumin is
In my conduct, here allane.
Thairfoir I pray ȝow euerilk ane
To thank him of his courtassy!”
Said Cassamus, “shir, sikkerly!
We sall be to him seruand;
He may vs to his will command!”

“Gvde shir,” said Marciane of Pers,
“I haue hard of that ȝe rehers,
Of the great laute and franchis
That in ȝour body nurist is.
In Lyonellis conduct am I,
And cumin in his cumpany,
And prayis that it anoy ȝow nocht,
For of me gif ȝe will ocht,
Counsell or help, I will blythly
Do it forouttin lossingery!”
“We thank ȝow samekill,” said Cassamus.

292

Said Marciane, “be our God Marcus,
For I find in ȝour senȝeory
Na deray bot all courtasy,
I am bald my will to say:
Ȝe haue presoners in ȝour monay,
Porrus and the Bauderane alsua,
And we Betys foroutin ma,
That of price and of wirship, I wis,
Sall pas all thay that leuand is.
Now pray I, gif it be ȝour will,
Gif ȝour court will assent thair till,
At thay delyuerit be in party,
Or, gif it may fall, vterly,
Throw change of land or ransoun.”
Said Cassamus, “ȝow sais resoun,
And I sall with our company
Avyse me thar-of haistaly.”

The knychtis of Grece foroutin let
Ar doune in myddis the palace set
On silkin carpettis, that all weir
Bordourit with ymage and coulour cleir.
Cassamus spak (the laif war still)
And said thame, “gif it be ȝour will,
I haue assemblit ȝow heir but faill
To gif me gude and lele counsale
How that Betys, my cousing fre,
May of presoun delyuerit be
Throw ostage or throw changeing
Of him and of Porrus the ȝing.”
Said Marcian, “schir, weill said ȝe!
Bot how sall it of the Bauderane be?”
“Schir Marciane,” than said that auld,

293

“I sall do mare than I haue tald.
To lat me spere displeis ȝow nocht!”
Said Marciane, “in hart and thocht
Ȝour speche reioyses me on all wyse,
And I thank ȝow ane hundreth syse.
Fra thine furth, quhill ȝour willis be,
Ȝe sall here na mare of me!”

“Marciane,” said that hare auld hare,
“Perfay, ȝit sall ȝe do me mare!
I traist samekill in the King
That hes all Grece in gouerning,
And in the duke Emynedus,
Arreste, Perdicas and Caulus,
That I sall tak the trewis on ane,
Quhill monunday the day be gane,
Betuis the Kingis and thare commouns,
And demane the parliament of barrounis.
And I sall gif the Bauderane,
And Porrus als, that man of mane,
On this cunnand, gif we fecht,
That quha followis or quha the flicht,
That the tane cum as presoun
In Venus chalmer to Fesoun.
For ane chylde that nocht growin is,
I sall gif tua vassalles, I wis,
Chosin of worship and of valour,
Knichtis of great strenth and vigour.
Sould nane me helpe, thocht I tak skaith!
For quhen that thay ar armed baith
With helme and sheild and byrne bricht,
In the great Battell and the fecht,
For the lufe of Fesonas

294

And hir cousing, dame Ideas,
With spere and suord thay sall gar de
Thare fais. Quhat bute is to fle?
Heirof am I begyled hale!
I gadder the wande quhairof I fale!”
“Be Marcus, shir,” said Marcien,
“Sik is the craft, quha will it ken,
In armes, in the dispysing
And in amouris the fare playing.
Schent he is that vtherwayes dois then thus!”
“Now be it sua!” said Cassamus.

Said Marciane, “sen it is sa
That ȝe on ȝour halfe trewis will ta,
On Clarus halfe I grant thair till.
Hald parliament quhen euer ȝe will,
Outher to-morne or vpone setterday.
Ȝonder in the midow meit we may,
Quhare Alexander ȝour lord sa fre
May cum, and Clarus als, perde.
And I sall gif ȝow thare Betys,
Baith hale and feir, fare and fetys,
For the best that leuand is
And for the hardyest, I wis;
And ȝe sall gif me the Bauderane,
And Porrus”—“Ȝa! shir, in certane.”
Said Cassamus, “sen that I
Hes maid ȝow hecht sa vterly,
For ane boll of moltin gold
Break ȝow cunnand I na wold!”
“Schir, mekill thank!” said Marcien,
“To all ȝour goddis I ȝow beken!”
And loutit and tuke his leif thare,

295

And thanked Cassamus the hare
Of all his erand and welefair,
And went hame, forouttin mair.

Now Marciane is went his way,
Glaid and blyth, ioly and gay,
For he sa graithly sped had thare
Of all his erand and weil-fare.
Lyonell him conuoyed, and Caulus:
“Lordingis,” said he, “be Marcus,
I wald be quhare the ladyis are,
To se thare solace and thare fare!”
“Schir,” said Lyonell, “full blythly!”
And by the hand him tuke in hy,
To Venus chalmer he him brocht,
And Marciane forȝet him nocht,
But halsit thame full courtasly
With “Venus” and with “Diany.”
Fesoun ansuered on gude maner,
“Waris mot ȝow Iupiter!
Cum furth, beaushire, and syt us by,
And tell vs of ȝour oist party
And of Clarus and his ryches!”
“Madame,” he said, “for ȝour nobilnes
And ȝour renoun and ȝour beute
Hes maid all here this assemble,
Ane hundreth men ȝit sall be dede
And disherist, for ȝour fairhede!”
“Schir,” said Fesonas the fre,
“With my will it sall nocht be;
Bot Clarus is sa riche of Inde,
And is sa michty in his mynde,
And Alexander sa stout of fere

296

And doutit on [sa] great manere,
And nurist is in sik wirship,
And for to keip hes sik lordship,
That he will gar thame bow, I wis,
That thir maist vnmesurit is.
I se tua proud, sa lappin in pryde,
That doun mon neidlingis the ta syde.
Neuer the quhether, I trow he will
That the trew be lestand still
Quhill that Betys delyuerit be.”
Said Marciane, “my lady fre,
This counsall methink endit is.
I will ga feche Betys, I wys,
Sen it may do ȝow sik solace.”
“Certis, schir,” said Fezonas,
“It war weill done, and our gude will
Sall ay abandounit be ȝow till.”

Marciane thair-of was glaid & blyth
That he had sped his neid alsuyth.
He lap on and went furth in hy,
And raid hame-wart richt Ioyfully,
To Clarus went and hale him tald
The changeing of thay beirneis bald,
How for Betys the Caldeane
He suld haue Porrus and the Bauderane,
And that he fand na doggitnes
In Cassamus, bot all sueitnes,
Wit and fare speik and gude will
To do all out weill mare than skill.
He tald syne of dam Fezonas,
That fetas and fare ferrand was,
And of hir Gracius visage

297

That ferly fare was into rage,
Syne of dam Ydeas the fre,
That was fulfillit of all bounte
And had sic wertew and valour
To draw gentill hart to amour;
He suore be his Goddis euir ilkane
That als far as he hes gane,
He saw neuer in na countre
Sa fare ane pair of fyne bounte.
Quhen Clarus that hard, he glifnit all,
And said, “fare cousing, it may fall
That men sall se throw that exemplare
Weill xx. thowsand dee and mare!”

Said Marciane, “schir, the truix ar tane
Quhill monnonday the day be gane,
And demane parliament of barronis,
Quhare men sall delyuer the presonis;
Gif peax may fall, refuse it nocht!”
“Fare cousing,” Clarus said, “at thocht,
It is all in waist; for na thing
Will I haue peax with ȝone King.
Outher he or I mon de but faill;
This weir mon tak end throw battaill.
Sa mon it be foroutin let,
Sen that my hart is thairon set.
Now ilk man think puruait to be,
Armit and dycht for the iorne!
On tysday arly I sall fecht
With him and all his mekill micht
And with all thame of Calde,
In to thare vnhap mot it be!
Fezonas, that is sa schene,

298

Had wele better vnborne bene,
For ȝit sall I mak hir sory.
But the trewis I will lelely
Be kepit quhill the presonis
Be changed as forespokin is.
Sen ȝow in ȝon ald herauldis hare
Hes fundin ressoun and wele mare,
It sall be kepit quhill that day,
And our presoneris be brocht away.
Sa sall thare ioy be mare, I trow,
And doubled be my sorrow.
Syne efter happin as destany is!
For vther way sall neuer, I wis,
His wening ourcummin be,
Of ȝon inchantouris sone, parde,
That throw wodnes and great foly
Hes past fortoun alluterly.
Bot on tyisday sall newit be
The dede of Daurus and Porre,
With ma than ane hundreth thowsand,
Armit weill baith fute and hand!
He sall repent him, or than I!
Anone on nede he sall bargane by!
Wald God that I his hart had here,
And baith his ene, in my dangere,
And syne my fleshe war rewin all
And als hewin in peces small!”
Said Marciane, “ȝe say richt ill!
Of wicked hart cumis wicked will!
Ȝe salbe venged hastelly,
And ȝour corps tak na villany.
Ȝit ar our men wele seuin syse mare,

299

And all that thay assemblit are.
Gif that thow had lykid for to be
Ay of ane acquentance priue,
And lord in to melle hale,
Fallow into chalmer baith great and small,
Gude freind and lele in laute,
And richnes of great renoune,
In all this warld nouthir heir nor thair
Sik ane striker with suerd nocht war!
Bot wiked maners, be my fay,
Hes put out all the gude avay.
For scarsnes in ȝow, I wys,
And couatys, sa rutit is
That thair is na thing that ȝe leif
On ony syde, that ȝe may reif,
Defoulis the barronis and dois thame schame.
All hait thay ȝow: quha may thame blame?
And auld hatrent, as men sais,
Beris ane new deid aluais.
Sa mekill haue ȝe desyrit of ill,
And sa hes geuin ȝour hart thair-till,
That hale the name and the cry
Of wrang, deray and velany
Is turnet halely in ȝow. Allace!
With sorofull hart and gretand face,
I say it, for now with ȝow, I wys,
Baith lyfe and dede ordainit is;
With ȝow I mon tak destany
Quhen thay sall fle, throw quhome sall ȝe
Lippin in the lele men and the gude
That seruit ȝow with maine and mude?
And now disparit sa I thame se

300

That wanhope brekis laute;
And be all the Goddis of sey and land,
I hope thow hes na man leuand
That thay na hate the halely
And wald thole shame and velany
Percunnand that the folk of Grece
Had hewin ȝour body all in pece.
Haue ȝe na hope throw thare helping
To haue victory na great winning,
Bot gif baith lufe and laute
In thare body assembled be!”

“Eme, think ȝe nocht,” said Marcien,
“Throw assembling of mony men
To haue victory na fall fare,
Bot lufe and laute haue repare!
Lufe and laute and fare calling,
Hechting with glaid hart and geuing,
Garris the fare straik strikkin be
And win worship and renoune.
Reuing and wicked disherising,
To be wicked, vnfare speking,
Garris the lord hated be
Alswele with strange as with preue;
And quhen his awin him hates as deid,
[I] Ask how lang he lif may leid!
For wysemen hes vs said oft-sys
Quhen prince with his men hated ys,
He sall de outher of tresoun,
Of slauchter, or of poysoun,
Or ellis in battell suddenly
Outher of his awin or of party,
For outher sall his men him slay

301

Or lat his fais ane vengance tay;
And quhen lord with his men lelely
Mantemit is and leiffis honorabilly,
All will thay his auancement
And his honour with gude entent;
And gif ȝe haue of thame mister,
Tuentie is worth ane houndreth neir.
Before ȝow may ȝe se apertly,
Se it as the E aluterly,
Of Alexander, that with sa quhone
Wynnis all the land vndir the mone,
And quhen it all is at his will
And als obeisand him till,
For his persoun haldis he na thing,
Bot geuis it hale, as nobill King,
To thame that in his mercy ar.
The honour he hes and askis na mair!
To hald the land is he worthy
That winnys it sa worthely
With strenth and vigour and with bounte,
And geuis it agane throw pitie.
Ȝe wirk on ȝone wyse na kin thing,
Bot reiffis, forout agane-geuing;
And ȝe sall tyne aluterly,
That wit ȝe weill witterly!
He that all couetis, all mon tyne,
Or ellis of laute les the lyne.
Fortune dissauis ȝow, wit ȝe weill,
And turnis sa soudanly hir quheill.
Bot lat we this speking be,
And to our mater turn will we!
To Betys will I vend in hy,
And haue him furth delyuerly,

302

And gif him to his freindis agane,
And feche Porrus and the Bauderane!”

Now Marciane leiffis his sermoun,
And went hame to his pauillioun.
To Betys said he courtesly,
“Beaushir, ȝe ar alluterly
Quyte delyuered of presoun.
Now gang we forward to the toun!”
“It lykes me wele,” said Betys,
And I thank ȝow ane hundreth sys!”
With that word, lap thay on in hy,
Clarus four sonnes all halely.
Syne gart thay cry throw the hoste, I hecht,
The trewis to Monunday at nicht.
Syne raid thay fast towart the toun,
And lychted vnder ane perroun.
Into the toun thay tald in hy
That Betys come in cumpany
Of four fellowis; than the Greions
Ishit out of thair pauillions;
The maydinnis als and the presounis
Maid mekill ioy of tha barrounis;
Ilkane tuke vther be the hand, I wis,
And syne in middes the palace is.

In middes of Iupiteris hie palais,
That Venus gart mak in hir dais,
That was masoned and quarraled weill
With iaspe and beryall ilka deill,
And of Imagery, the quhilk thare was
Set of gold fra place to place,
Was Cassamus set and Gaudefere,

303

With thame Lyoun, pere and pere,
Arreste syne and Floridas,
Caules and worthy Perdicas;
On vther halfe was set Betys,
And Ideas the fare and wys,
And Fesonas and Caneus,
The Bauderane and syne Porrus,
Idorus and Elyote;
Thare was mony into that flote;
In ane randoun thay sat, I wene,
On carpettis carued with sheildis shene.

In myddes the palace, quhare thay sat
On purpour stemming and veluat,
Quhare roses war and vther floures
And seirkin herbis of seir colouris,
The maydinnis honored the brether greatly;
In dede thay spak full courtasly.
Than Marciane said to Cassamus,
“Schir, ȝe haue all wonnen vs
For ȝour great wit and courtassy!
The peax now wald I, wit sikkerly,
Or that were hapned; bot ȝour King
Manance makes in mekill thing.
Thocht Clarus be of body auld,
Febill for trauell, lene and cauld,
And far fra his in vther countre,
With honour will he gouerned be,
And leif or de, quhether sa may fall;
And Alexander is stout with all,
And happy als of weir, I wis,
Mare than ony that leuand is.
And Clarus michty is alsua

304

Of land and men and freindis ma,
And is of body stout and wicht.
Sa worthis neidlingis that thay fecht
Quhill ane of thame discumfit be.
Bot thairof na mare speik will we!
Schortly to say, lo here Betys,
His armes and his hors of prys!
Now wald we, gif ȝour willis war,
Haue our freindis hame-wart fair!”
Cassamus ansuered thame in hy,
“I quyte-clame ȝe thame vterly!
Quhen euir ȝow lykis to gang ȝour way,
The ȝet sall opnit be, perfay,
Quhare weilcum heir mot euer ȝe be,
And wele cum and wele gane, parde,
Bot that cunnand be haldin, I wis:
Gif that the King fechtis and his,
That the tane, quhilk that it be,
Sall cum agane in this citte,
In presoun, in chalmer Venus,
To Fesonas and Idorus.”
Said Marciane, “sen it is thy deuis,
I hope thay will, with myne auys,
Cum blythly, for the presoun is
Licht and ioly and full of blis,
And alsua is the cumpany
Delytable, glaid and ioly;
And certis, gif the were na war,
I wald ane moneth be and mare
Glaidar heir, at myne auys,
Na haue to wis all paradys!”
Said Cassamus, “shir, grant mercyis!

305

This weir mislykis me mony wys,
And gif Clarus thinkes laith to haue peis,
Alexander is laithar it to ceis.”
With that, haly on fute thay rais,
And tuke thair leif vpone thair tais,
And quha had knawin the gude will and lufing,
He mycht haue knawin at leif-taking,
Be thare sembland and be thare fare,
Quha that war lufit and luffaris war.

At leif-taking and thare parting,
Was maid mony greuous siching.
Ay tua and tua and thre and thre,
Held parliament that sueit menȝe.
Ane spak of armes and cheualry,
Ane vthir of armes and of droury,
The thrid of truith and of luffing,
And sueitly prayit with sad siching,
“My fare sueit hart, forȝet nocht me!
And ȝe forȝet, I sall nocht ȝe!”
Fezonas was weill taucht and heynd,
Towart Porrus couth sho weynd,
And by the hand richt courtasly
Scho tuke him, and said him sueitly
That na man here: “schir, ȝour presoun
Is nocht ȝit osted with resoun.
Ȝe ar with-haldin in my dangere.
Ȝe slew my poun!”—He said, “my deir,
I put me in ȝour courtasy,
All that I haue vtarly,
For-outin ony departing,
Body and hart forout lesing,
To leif in ostage with ȝow still!

306

And thairto euermare I will
Be ȝour knicht, my sueit lady,
And serue ȝow wele and lelely!”
“I hald me payit!” said that shene,
“Quhare sic ane weid is left, I wene
Men aucht to mak na mismaying
Nor dreid of courtes paying,
And thairfore with hart all wraith
I mon abyde, and ioyfull baith:
Ioyfull of sueit hope, I wis,
That in my hart ay sayand is,
‘Ȝit sall we vther weill se
And cum to speke in priuate,
And quhare we leif, now thair begin.’
Bot, for that we sa sone mon tuin,
Forouttin dout I am sory.
Ȝe speid ȝow hyne our hastelly!
With my will ȝe sould be here,
Or ȝe past hyne, this seuin ȝeir!”
Quhen Porrus hard, he leuch in hy,
And betaucht hir full courtasly
To all the goddis thay trowit in,
And lufsumly hir imbraissed syne.
Porrus out of the chalmer is gane,
And courtasly his leif hes tane.
His hart thare left he in ostage,
And tuke with him, as in homage,
Thocht and imaginatioun
Of Fesonas fare fassoun.
With his hart ene oft sall he se
Hir fare effere and hir bounte,
And of hir mak all the Image;

307

Myssaris reiffis nocht all that avantage.
And the Bauderane to Ideas
Beheld, that was sa fare of face,
Farar far than vther thing,
Of gentill corps and gude hauing,
Than said the Bauderane, “in Cartage—
Thair is my richteous heritage—
Thare sall I haue ȝow, quhare ȝe sall be
Lady of great dignite.
Now will I with my fallowis fare,
And keip my fewte with thame thare,
And heir I leif ȝow vterly
My hart, but parting, halely
To duell in ȝour sueit seruage,
And here to ȝow I mak homage!”
“Than,” said that sueit sempilly,
“Thareof sall fall ȝow na foly!
I thank ȝow baith in word and dede,
And prays our goddis that ȝe spede,
And saue ȝow fra shame euer mare!”
With that, thay turned and furth thay fare,
And of the toun thay went in hy
And to the hoste come hastelly.

Befoir Clarus pauillioun,
That was all maid of gold sa broun,
All lichted doun euer ilk deill,
Before Clarus syne can thay kneill.
“Lordingis,” said ald Clarus the hare,
“Sa in this were ȝe traualed are
That ȝe haue neid to rest and ly.
Ȝour presoun greuis ȝow greatumly!
Ȝe haue lyen our lang in presoun!

308

Quhat sais of me dam Fezoun?
Will sho ȝit me hald for husband,
To peis this weir and saue hir land?”
“Na!” said Porrus, “foroutin wein,
Hir had leuer be grauin [in] grein
Than euer sho in ȝour dangere be!
Thay pryse ȝow nocht with ane penny,
For on tysday ȝe sall thame se
Isch to the playn with thare menȝe,
And alsua Alexander de Lere.
That cumis to help thay ladeis deir!”
“Certis,” said auld Clarus the King,
“Now haue I myne hale asking,
For vthir-wais I may nocht se
How I on thame may vengit be!”
“Schir,” said Porrus, “without lesing,
Vpone tysday in the mornyng,
Thay sall Isch furth and ta the feild,
Armit on hors with speir and scheild,
All arrayit as for battailȝe,
Baner displayit, vailȝe que vailȝe,
Thay sall be weill tuentie thousand
Bot Alexander, I tak on hand,
That cummis to se ws certanly
With x. thousand vassalis hardy!”
Quhen auld Clarus hard Porrus tell,
That spak the day of the battell,
And Alexander suld Pharone pas
On fryday, and thay that with him was,
That x thowsand Knychtis war,
All that he prysit nocht ane hare,
And [said] “thay ar ane lytill dynare

309

To our great hoste that we haue here!”
And syne behelde he Porrus,
And to the Bauderane said thus,
“Marciane, fare cousing deir,
Say me, ar thir the bachleir
That can avow sa haltanly
Before ladyis that ar ioly?”
“Ȝa, shir,” said Marciane, “parde!”
“Perfay,” said Clarus, “thay suld be
Menskit and lofit wele the mare,
For of great hart gif thay na ware,
Thay had nocht thocht [that] on na wyse!
And [I] that nocht saw the ladeis,
Na brek the poun, na myrthis mak,
How may I straik gif or tak?
For thay haue left me na kin thing
To confort me in na louing!
Bot quha hes gift of lemmen deir,
And [wis] to lufe forout dangeir,
And ȝarning worship for to prufe,
And wening syne to win hir lufe,
He aucht wele to begin sic thing,
To put the body to amending!”
“Ȝe can wele speik,” said Marciane,
“And reik great routis with mekill mane!
Could ȝe sa weill ane fare gift geif,
And power worthy men [na] reif
And call ȝour courtes nichtbouris fare,
Nane worthyar war, hyne to Cesare!
Bot worship is away, I wis,
In ryche men that sparand is!”

310

Said Clarus, “nece, of that seiknes
I sall be wareist weill at eis,
Gif thay will me prys ocht!
Eftir this battale, it is my thocht
To amend wrang and velany,
And my great treasour halely
Sall delt be, with thy counsale, all,
And be partit in great and small.”
“Fare Eme,” said Marciane, “God wait
Thow hes that dremit all to lait.
It may auale the now richt nocht,
Bot lang quhyle syne had thow it thocht,
Now doubill-fald It suld be quyte,
Bot thy scarsnes hes reft the it;
For ay, throw geuing largely,
[Man] hes of the gude cumpany.
Geuin our all hes lordship,
For geuin dois men wirship
And strykis mony ane straik, I wis!”
“Fare nece,” said Clarus, “suith it is
Bot I wend nocht that sa had bene.
Bot now I wait foroutin wein
That bettir is gude men tretit weill
Than ony treasour or ioweill!
Bot thair-fore, cousing, sall nocht faill
On tysday the great battaill,
And thairfore plane I pray the
That my standart vpdressit be,
The banare waiffand to the wynd.
Sic wairisoun men sall thare find
That, or it half-deill hewyn be,
I hope that Gaudifeir, parde,

311

Wald haue maid ane vthir vow!”
Said Marciane, “sa sall I trow!”
“Speke we vthir-wais!” said Marciane,
“We are cumin heir as men of mane,
Far fra ouris, in vthir countre.
I hope that richt sone fecht sall we
With the nobillest folk and the best
That fra the est is to the west,
And with the best King of renoun hie,
And maist may of noyis dre,
That euir was vnder the firmament
Or that euir beis, to my intent.
For he is fare and auenand,
Hardy, wyse and conquerand,
Happy in weir, and weill luffit
With all that his lordship hes pruffit.
Sa it is misterfull that we
Richt wittely auysit be
How, and on quhat wyse alsua,
That we may best to battaill ga!”
“[Ȝe spekis] wysly!” said Clarus then,
“We haue ane houndreth thousand men
At our leding, and my counsale Is
That we of thame mak vi. battallis.
And the first gif I in leding
To Porrus for gude keping.”
Said Clarus, “fare, sueit sone deir,
Ane fare gift I sall gif the heir.
Fra me I had na geuin it nocht,
Na war that I me vmbethocht
That thow hes baith auowit and hecht,
Before the ladeis that ar bricht,

312

For to vincus the great battaill!”
“Schir,” said Porrus, “forouttin faill,
Ȝe say suith, and, gif God will,
That I haue hecht I sall fulfill,
For the steid, and the ioly thocht,
And thair proud amouris, me besocht,
And stollin blenkis of fare ene clere,
And great pryde of thame that thare were,
Of knichtis of Grece and of Calde!”
Said Clarus, “sueit sonne, parde,
That it war vtherwayes I na wold,
Forsuith nocht for ane wall of gold!”
“Cum furth,” syne said he, “shir Bauderane!
The tother battell (sa God me sane!)
Methink it richt weill set on the.
Thow can ga sumdele forrow me!
For that I knaw the leill in will,
And settis thyne intent to fulfill,
Hardy and doutit in melle,
This ryall gift sall I gif the;
And also thow hes of thyne awin
Fyftene thousand that is wele knawin,
Armit weill baith fute and hand,
Staluart in ilka stour to stand.
Than may we ryde ay to we se,
Vpoun the walles of the citie,
The ferly fare dame Fesonas,
That thusgait me forsaken hes
That I haue distroyit thair land!
And thow sall se, I tak on hand,
The ferly fare maieste
Of Ideas, that is sa fre!”

313

Quhen he him hard, he sichit sone,
And courtasly, forouttin hone,
He said, “for ane sicht of that shene
Hes mony men amendit bene,
And gif that I na better be,
Maugre haue I gif sho me se!
Hir geuin is my hart soueranely!”
Said Clarus, “thow hes wonnin greatly!
Gif Fesonas, the fare and cleir,
Wald lufe me on sik manere
And sa to confort me had tane,
Armit nor vther suld I dreid nane!”
“Tak heid, my gude sone Caneus!
My first sone art thow,” said Clarus,
“And in the I maist affy,
[For] that thow me lufes steidfastly.
Of the thrid thow salt be
Lord and ledar, and with the
Sall be weill neir fyftene thowsand.
Vpone thy steid on my richt hand
Thow sall ryde, efter the Bauderane.
Neir-hand, besyde, into the plane,
And Porrus sall before ȝow ga,
With xv thousand men or ma
In his battell, ane bow-draucht neir.
Bot luke that thow on na maneir
Pas with thy men the first isheil!
For men may cum, I warne the weill,
All be tyme to be derayit;
Quhen men in turnay ar purueyit,
Thay sall wele mare redoutit be,
And in thare deidis mair auysse,

314

For to stryke sad straikes, I wis!”—
“Schir, be it as ȝour bidding is!”
Efter the tyme King Clarus
Had said his will to Caneus,
Caleos, prince of Amory,
His midmest sone, come neir him by.
For he was worthy, fare and fre,
The mair all out him honored he,
And said, “sueit sone, I gif the here
The ferd battell to keip and stere,
To keip my honour or it faill;
And xv thousand men all haill
Haue thow, that ar stout and hardy,
Horssit and armit iolely.
Vpone my richt hand thow sall ryde
Ane lytill before me, at ane syde,
Followand the Bauderane at the bak.”
“Schir,” said the chylde, “I vnder-tak
To do all that ȝe bid me heir.
May I meit Alexander de Lere,
I think to assaill him sa
That lyfe and saull sall part him fra!”
Clarus was wonder wyse of weir,
And wele couth ordane his effeir,
To greif his fais with word and micht.
His maistry mekill was, I hecht,
Bot ȝit wele mare was his manheid.
Bot couetous, scarce and quyed
He was sa, that in his countre
Was nouther strange na ȝit preue
That he na reft rent and mobillis baith;
Will nane him mene, thocht he tak skaith!

315

He rais amang his menȝe all,
Vpone Salphadyne he can call:
“Fair sueit sone, ga heir and ta,
With xv thousand men and ma,
The leding of the fyft battale!
For dout of deid will nane the fale!
And I sall heir behind ȝow be,
And the sext battell with me,
And se the melle all, I wis,
And assemble als, quhen mister is,
With ane hundreth thousand men;
Quhair euer we cum, men sall vs ken!”
“Lordingis,” said Clarus, “on tyisday,
Als airly as euer we may,
Luke we be armit and wele dicht,
As gude warriouris and wicht!
And ilk man to his baner,
For my lufe, haue ane gude berer!
Towart thame syne ryde we may!
Thay will cum prekand at deray,
That ar great warriouris, wit ȝe weill.
Ressaue thame with ȝour swordis of steill!
All salbe lordis at speiris streking,
That ȝarnis for to win louing.
Ane pure man is als mekill thairto
As ane empriour thair-at may do.
Marciane, my fair cousing deir,
Thow art my sister sone, but weir;
At my brydill thow salbe
On tysday at the melle,
And the King of Pincarny alsua;
I gif me hale to ȝow tua!

316

Gif ȝe me keip, ȝe sall haue
Great honour and great proffeit baith!
Be all our Goddis, gif I may se
My tyme, I sall wele wengit be
Of him, ȝon iouglouris sone, I hecht!”
Said Marciane, “be God of micht,
Na strenth agane vs may he haif;
He sall be deid, and all the laif!”

Said Clarus, “sa God me rede!
Gif that he de or I be dede,
And I may wit it, wit thow weill
My sorrow ceisit beis ilk deill!”
Quhen he had said thir wordis heir,
He lenit him on ane souldeir,
Befoir the dure of his pauillioun;
About him hard he mony barroun
Spekand of the great iorne.
“Lordingis, now pray I ȝow,” said he,
“That ilk man be worthy and wicht,
To hey my honour and ȝour micht;
The myster is sik as ȝe se.
Marciane, fair cousing fre,
To-morne but baid or langer let,
Thow gar my standart vp be set—
Thare woundit and menȝeit may rely—
Enforsit with sic cumpany
That, gif Gaudefere cum thairto,
To hew it, as he hecht to do,
I pray that he be countered sa
That he thairefter na hething ma!
And certis I dar say and suere
That neuer ȝit was wittin ere

317

Quhare man avowit sa hattandly
Na mannasit with sic succoudry!”
Said Marciane, “now may ȝe se
That betuix lufe and ladeis fre,
And courtes aquentance alsua,
Garris sum men sic thing vndir-ta
That puttis thame to sic louing,
And syne to Ioy and solasing!”
“Thow hes suith,” said Clarus, “perfay,
For by thare wordis ȝesterday,
Is weill sene thay war sa haltane
That ane mychty man of mane
Durst nocht derene, I dar la wed!”
With that, thay partit all and ȝeid to bed.

Apone the morne quhen it was day,
The air was cleir and it was day.
Marciane, quhen his lyking was,
Rais, and with the standart gais
And set it vp in myddis the grene.
The folk of Grece than hes it sene;
Said Alexander, “lordis, we ly
Here all to lang; thairfore will I
Pas our the ȝonde half of Pharone
And ask the treuage at ald Clarone,
That we fra his brother wan!
And thairfore think euirilk man
To leif keipand the senȝeory
That we haue winnyn throw maistry!
Pour men ar the folk of Inde,
And armit euill men sall thame find.
Lytill ar thay worth, and can bot small
Of weir; and thus I warne ȝow all,

318

Be thay assailȝeit hardely,
And encountered egerly,
That formest cumis, ȝe sall se
The hindmest sall abased be.
Suth is that Clarus sonnes ar gude
And michty men of mane and mude,
And Marciane of Pers alsua;
Thame micht men outher taik or sla
Throw strenth, or lyst, or ony wyse,
The laif ar lytill for to pryse!”
“Lordingis,” said the nobill King,
“My hart hes he dois my bidding!
Quha haldis bidding, throw ressoun is
Hardy; wele I warne ȝow this,
That of fare strakes the maist party
Ar throw auyse maid halely.
For-thy I pray ilk man that he
Nocht couetous na ȝarnand be
To tak na ryches that thay wald,
Bot wyn of deidly fais the fald.
Fra thay be winnin, all, wit ȝe weill,
The gudis ar ouris euer ilk deill,
And I quyteclame ȝow vterly
Baith gold and syluer halely
And all the riches that thairis is.
The honour will I haue, I wis!
I hald me payit that part to haif;
I keip na mare of all the laif!
And weill with ilkane witterly
We ar in sic ane party
That, quik or deid, ouris is the land.
Thocht thay be mony, I tak on hand

319

With lytill mischeif, for all thair lare,
Thay sall fle, all that euer thay ar!”
“Suith sayis our Lord!” ilkane thay say,
“Clarus sall by his great deray!”
Quhen Alexander, that na boist may fley,
Saw the standart dressed hey,
Dicht and masoned stalwartly,
And the hoste of Inde halely
Sterand and reuisand heir and thare,
“Lordingis,” said he, “I will fare
Out-our Pharon, and with me sall
Fare my men in armis all.
The halfe on this halfe of Pharouns
Sall dwell, to keip the pauilliouns.
Our horses with rapes and ginnis be
Aualyt with battis doun to the se,
And all our menȝe sall doun ga,
Endlang the steppis, tua and tua,
Sua that in tua dayis, or in thre,
We sall all our passed be.
On tyisday sall this weir tak end!
Now cum quhat euer God will send!”
Quhen the King had said his will,
Thay went smartly thair armes till,
And criaris out throw the hoist can cry
That all suld follow the King in hy.

Now gais his way the nobill King,
That was honored attour all thing—
Ane better King was neuer borne,
Efter his tyme na ȝit beforne—
Armit weill and gayly dicht,
And als Emynedus the wicht,

320

Dauclyne als and Tholomeris,
And weill x thousand Knychtis,
That the gude King throw his bounte
[OMITTED] and throw his great largite.
He was courtas, sueit and quent,
And wysly spekand at all poynt.
All fallowit him, for all him luffit
And he great lufrent to thame prufit,
Hand in hand with menȝe fare,
Ȝeid doun the steipis of the Phare.
Quhen thay war cuming doun, thay fand
Baith stapis and battis at thare hand,
That had thame out to Effezoun.
Quhen he was cumming to the toun,
Sic Ioy sall ȝow neuer se
As thay maid thame in the citie.
The King to land is went, I wys,
And Tholomere him fallowit is,
Dauclene and gude Emynedus,
Lycanor and Antigonus,
Philot and Festione alsua.
Thair of the douzeperis war na ma,
The laif war in the chalmer of Venus,
Arreste, Perdicas and Caulus,
And Lyonell and Floridas,
That with Fezoun and Ydeas
Maid thare delyte with gamin and play,
And of the presoneris spak thay,
That wist na thing of the King,
Na of his cuming na kin thing,
Quhill that ane squyare hes him tald,
Cassamus de Larys the auld.

321

Quhen the gude man him hard, I wis,
His hart for Ioy reioysit is,
And to his cousingis syne said he,
“Wp suyth, myne aune cousingis fre!
The mychty King of Massidonȝe
Is cumming heir without sonȝe.
Now is our mycht growin sua
Thare may na power ws our-ga!
Now prys I nocht the oist of Ynd
The leist stra that men mycht find,
Na ȝit Clarus na Marciane,
The King of Pincarny na his men!
Thay rusit thame that ane houndreth thousand
Of scheildis sould about thame stand,
Bot me had leuer of gude ane haue
Than ane vaill full of ill to craue!”

“Childer,” said auld Cassamus,
“Heirin is cumming for to wesy vs
The King of Grece, that God maid air
Of Grece, quhair vertew maid repare.
Courtas, fare and wyse he is,
Hardy and worthy als, I wys,
And sicker to do his deuore weill
In hard stour of battell mortell.
Sueit and humyll he is, I hecht,
And meik in all his mekill mycht;
Of honour he is keper,
Of gudis large and dispender.
Of him mare quhat sall I say?
Mercy in his hart is ay,
To ressaue all that him prayis.
Now is he cummyng in our paleis,

322

To wit quhy Clarus is cummin heir
To asseage vs on this maneir,
Bot we sall gar him gang his gait,
Or repent him may fall to lait!
On tyisday sall the battell be,
Quhair men the worthy weill may se!
Thair may worthy, gif thay will,
Fall great worship weill thame till!”
“Chylder,” said Cassamus the hare,
“(Sa God himselfe me keip fra care!)
I am ane man of mekill eild,
And thinkis to abyde in the feild,
And mony ane strake stryke, I wis.
Than byrd ȝow weill that ioly is,
Ȝong, stalwart and michty,
In soiurne nurist nobilly,
Wele ioyus in armes and drowry!
Lordingis deir, to ȝow I say
Worship ȝow summondis on tyisday
To put ȝour bodeis to assay,
In bath of sueit and swordis hewin,
And sturde stokking and stampin.
Thare sall worship hald court, I hecht,
And deme honour euin to the richt,
With hardement, counsell and vigour;
Thare sall men se quha ȝarnis honour!
And we aucht wele, baith men and page,
Gang to defend our heritage,
That Clarus wald haue with maistry,
For he hes fundin [vs] anerly
Forouttin lord, but vther skill
But succudry and his will.

323

To our goddis I plenȝe all,
And to ȝow lordis, great and small,
And Alexander the nobill King,
That bringis heir in our helping
Mony ane gentill knicht, I wis.
Ga we and meit thame with Ioy and blis.
Quhare weilcum be he in this toun!”—
Than ȝeid thay all agane him doun.
Doun of the palace Iupiter
The barronis ischit in fare affere,
That glaid and ioly was and gay.
Togidder hand in hand ȝeid thay,
Singand and carraland iolely
Of Alexanderis cheualry,
How he wan Daurus and Nicholas
And mony vthir seimly place.
Before the auld tempill Venus
Thay met the King, carraland thus,
Amang his men that worthy war.
Great honour ilkane can him bare,
And profferit him courtasly
Baith body and gudis halely.
Said Alexander, “grant mercyis!
Ȝe sall wel wit on quhat kin wys,
Or I pas hyne, how it me noyis
That Clarus this ȝour land destroyis!”
“Schir,” said the fare dam Fezonas,
“His mycht great marring to vs mais!”
“Fare,” said the King, “mysmay ȝow nocht!
I knaw that ald, in deid and thocht,
Weill far better than ȝe do.
He is baith fell and cruell to;
That is weill by the countre sene,

324

He hes destroyit all bedene!”
“The skaith is great,” said Cassamus,
“Bot I trow to our God Marcus
That it sall sone redressit be,
Gif God thame sauis that I heir se!”
“Ȝa, schir, gif God will!” said the King,
And with that word baith auld and ȝing
Ressauit him full richely.
The madinnis inclynnit to him courtasly,
And syne of erlis, barrouns and knychtis
He was honorit with all thare mychtis.
The King in to the palace come,
That of storys of Troy and Rome
Was porturit clenly, and Intermellit
With gold that was weill anamalit:
How that destroyit was the toune
And stollin the paleadione,
And how the Grecians destroyit ware;
All this halely was pantyt thare.
The King beheld the panting fast;
On silkin carpettis at the last
He sat, and gart vnarme him syne,
Amang the ladeis fare and fyne.

Alexander the King sa kene
Was set on silkin carpettis schene
Amang madinnys that war Ioly,
And playit with thame Iolely.
On athir half sat Emynedoune,
Festioun, Tholomere and Lyoun;
The vthir barronis sat on the grene.
The King tuke Fezonas the schene
By the hand, and lufsumly
Said, “madame, I wald blythly

325

Wit quhat thow thinkis, gif it mocht be!”
“Schir,” said the fair maydin fre,
“I thocht, gif that it be ȝour will,
Of auld Clarus, that loud and still
Vs weiris and destroyis our land.”
Said Alexander, “I tak on hand,
War tyisday cummin, thow sall se
Vs wele vengit of his cruelte!”
“The mekill God,” said Cassamus,
“Mot ȝeild ȝow, shir, that ȝe say thus!”
“Cassamus,” said the King, “parde,
I haue great ȝarning for to se
Him that sua rusis my sword to reif,
Maugre myne, out of my neif.
He manassis richt hie, gif I dar say!”
“Schir,” said Floridas, “perfay,
Gif I dremit sa hie ane thing,
Quhill I leif, suld I haue resting?”
Said Alexander, “freind, gif I
Micht with auyse be sa worthy
As he is, I wald ask na mare!”
“Schir,” said Cassamus the hare,
“Gif that ȝour lyking be,
To-morne heir ȝe sall him se,
For thay haue vndertane the way.”
“That is wele,” said the King, “perfay!”
“Or the morne at euin,” said Cassamus,
“Ȝe sall the Bauderane and Porrus
Se heirin, for the trewis ar tane
Quhill monunday, that day be gane.”
Said Alexander, “it lykes me
That it be sa, for I sall se

326

Him that sall me reif my brand,
Maugre myne, out of my hand!
Quhat sall thay thairof say or deme
That hes my brydill for to ȝeme?
Of my-selfe I will nocht say!
I wait nocht of the deid, perfay,
Bot the wordis ar haltane!”
“Schir,” said Caulus “(sa God me sane!)
He sall leif his helme of steill,
Thocht it be fesnit neuer sa weill,
Or rug his heid of, or I rest,
Or ellis myne armes sall all to-brest!”
Than leuch thay all and maid sporting.
“Caulus, weill worth the!” said the King.
Of that quhilk Caulus said, I wis,
The Kingis hart reioysit is.
In ioy, gamming and solais,
And in lyking, the day our-gais;
The Grecians past fast our Pharoun
In botes and galayis to the toun,
And the King playit with Ideas
And with the menssinger of Teras,
Was to him send be Candas the Quene.
Syne ȝeid thay and sat on seages grene.
Efter the ches play that the King
Had playit with Perdicas the ȝing,
Thair was the Bauderane thocht on wele,
How that Fesonas, the fare to fele,
Said he sould meat be in the store;
The King maid mekill myrth thairfore,
And leuch and playit with gammin and blis,
And [she] ane party shamit is.

327

Vpone the morne the gude King rais,
Baith erlis and barrounis with him gais
To tempill Diane for to pray;
Thair orysounis thairin maid thay.
Bot or thay war cummin agane,
Was cummin Porrus and the Bauderane
And Marciane of Pers, I wis.
The King cummin fra the tempill is,
And hes sene tha fallowis thre.
To Cassamus alssone said he,
“I haue na knawledge of ȝon men!”
Said Cassamus, “ȝe sall thame ken!”
Quod Cassamus, “now may ȝe se
Him that, throw his great bounte,
Sall reif ȝour sword of ȝour hand.
Lo ȝonder formest rydand!
And the tother is Porrus that sall
Beat and discumfit the great battall,
And stryke great strakis amang the men.
The thrid fallow is Marcien,
That of ressoun and wit, I wis,
And of worship, wele warnist is.”
Said Alexander, “(sa God me se!)
Thay ar fare bachleiris all thre,
And for the worship wele the mare
Baith to lufe and loif thay ar,
For thay ar mekill and manly and wicht,
The hardyest byrd dreid thair micht.
God gif it had coste me, of myne,
Ten thousand mark of syluer fyne
And alsmekill gold, with-thy that thay
My freindis war, haldand thair fay!

328

I had mare winnen than micht be tald!
With-thy the goddis sa help me wald
That I with my honour micht
Eschape on tyisday the ficht,
Of Clarus gude I bad na mare,
Bot accord with tha knichtis thare!”
As the King with his douzepeiris
Spak to honour the bachleiris,
Blythly lichted thay ilkane,
And fra thame hes thair swordis tane.
The Bauderane befoir his fallowis ȝeid,
And saluted the King on Grecians leid,
That wele couth speke and wittely,
Loutit and inclynit courtasly.
The King ansuered with lufsum cheir,
“Lordingis, and I micht meit ȝow heir
In sic manere that of amour,
And of armes ȝow doubillis honour!
And God grant that I may ryse
On tyisday on sik ane wyse
That I my body and my brand
May keip vnreft out of my hand!”
Sum dele ashamed was the Bauderane
And changit hewis, and said agane
Full sempilly, but affraying,
“Gud shir, that may helpe na thing!
Men worthis avow for ladyes deir
And put thair bodeis in perrellis seir,
To fynis and fulfill his deid,
And nouther leif it for deid na dreid.”
“Harrow!” said Alexander, “now I se
That, betuene lufe and ladyes fre,

329

I am in euenture for to by
Thair gammis and thair droury!
Now ga we eit, for tyme is neir,
Quhair welcum be ȝe alwayis heir!”

Alexander gentill was and fre,
To Porrus than oft lukit he,
That mekill was and manly made,
Broun crisp hare on his heid he hade,
With coist as Lyoun bald to fecht,
And stout visage to se be licht;
He thocht he was, of all fassoun,
Lyke to his eme, the King Pirroun,
Be ressoun byrd him be hardy,
Stark, staluart and sturdy;
And lukit syne to Emynedus
And, lauchand, syne he said him thus,
All preuelly, that nane micht heir:
“Beaushir, to meit ȝon bachleir
Is nocht thy prowe, [I] vnderstand!
He avowis to win Ferrand!”
The duke ansuered with hardy cheir,
“Ȝit am I (lofe God!) haill and feir
And, thocht he mannas me on fer,
That fall may I sall do him war!”
Thusgait spekand to and fra,
To palyce Iupiter thay ga.
Into the palyce Iupitere,
That cleinly caruin was, but weir,
And adorned with riche stones,
Iasp, Beriall and Sardonis,
The King come with his knichtis all,
In his estate emperyall;

330

The maydinnis cled war in veluet.
Thay couered burds and opnit the ȝet;
The King askit water, and men him brocht,
In Basynes that war craftely wrocht
Of Emeraudes and rid rubeis.
Quhen he had weshin vpone this wys,
The Bauderane syne callit he,
And said, “shir, ȝe sall sit by me,
As worthy, luffis in laute fyne,
And ȝonder Porrus, ȝour cousyne,
Sall sit besyde dame Fesonas,
Syne Marciane and Ideas!”
Thay said ilkane, “shir, at ȝour will!
Ȝour commandement we sall fulfill!”
With his word, thay war set all suyth
In Iupiters palace, glaid and blyth.

[_]

Several lines of text are missing here.

Thar war in that cumpany
Bot thay seuyne allanerly.
At vther burdis thay war set
Of Grece and Calde, at the mete.
Gaudefere and Betys his brother
Seruit, with thair men, ane and vther;
Of ioy fulfillit war thay iolely,
Amang thame was great senȝeory.
That crouned King that I of mene,
Is set doun on carpettis clene,
And callit to him the presoneris tua,
And Marciane of Pers alsua,
And Fesonas, the fare of face,
And Idorus and Ideas,
And gart thame sit intermelle
On carpettis that was fare to se.

331

Thare was na speke of velany,
Bot of armes and droury,
And of bounte and rich guerdoun,
That lufe geuis quhen him thinkis sesoun;
Amang thame spak thay commonly,
For thay durst nocht priualy,
For the King, that thare was, of renoun,
As wald his reuerence, throw ressoun.

Qvhen thay had drukin, eftir the speke,
The King rais and [his] knychtis eik,
And callit Cassamus and Betys,
Gaudefeir als and vthir of prys;
Into the paleis vndir the tour
He callit his men of great valour,
To vmbecast quhat sould cum eft.
The laif war in the chalmer left,
To speke and play; quha thare had bene
Amang that mirth, thay mycht haue sene
Ilkane draw to vthir neir
With sueit blenkis and siching seir.
Marciane than said thame to,
“Lordingis, here haue I nocht ado!
I am bot feir, I can nocht play!”
“Beaushir,” said Idorus the gay,
“And I am myne allane, I wis!
And maydin that to mary is
Bird wele to wis sik ane to haue!”
Said Marciane, “(sa God me saue!)
Ȝe haue better, and mare to pryse
Baith hyne and heir, on alkin wyse!
He was with me ane lytill thraw;
Sa mekill in him thare I saw

332

That he na sould, as me think, parde,
For na man leuand changit be!
Be God, me leuer war I mocht
Resembill him in deid and thocht,
And be richt sic ane as he is,
Than haue half-deill this warld, I wis!”
“Certis,” said Porrus, “I dar say
That men bird dout him weill avay
In great battale, I tak on hand,
Mare than of vtheris ane thousand!”
Thay held speke thusgatis of Betys,
And of amouris mony wys,
Bot I na wait, bot as lufe kennys
And ȝarnyng leris and lyking lennys,
For quhen luffaris in lufe ar tane
And thay haue laser thame allane,
Thay find to speker new speche ay
And bot ane quhyle mais ane day.
Sa sure is of thir merry men,
Bot thay had spokin bot lytill then
Quhen the King had tane counsale
To fecht on tysday foroutin faill.

Qvhen the king this counsale had tane,
To Venus chalmer is he gane.
Arreste followit and Caulus,
Gaudefeir, Betys and Cassamus.
Agane thame rais all that thare war;
Emynedus spak and wald nocht spare,
“Lordingis and vassellis, to ȝow I say,
Vthir think nane nor on tysday
To fecht, or fle aluterly,
Or ellis to cum heir to mercy!

333

Sa mon it be, quha euir be wraith!”
And Marciane said to him raith,
“Schir, to ansuer to that resoun
Myne Eme is puruait, the King Claroun,
That with ane houndreth thousand scheildis
On tysday sall we tak the feildis.
I wait nocht quha be dede or tane,
Bot this empryse beis vnder-tane!”
Said Alexander, “now be it sa!”
Than can he of the chalmer ga.

The King is to the palace gane,
Quhare-in thare was neuer ane stane
Na the worst was precious.
Thare followit him fast out of the hous
The folk that hardy was and gude,
That better luffit fecht than fisch the flude.
Thare armour ȝeid thay for to se,
To help that nedit for that melle;
Tothir still in the chalmer is,
Ay tua and tua held spek, I wys.
Porrus beheld to Fezony,
And saw hir fetas and Ioly,
Ȝing and fare, of simpill manere,
Priually he said, “my deir,
Baith body and hart I gif ȝow till,
With gude intent and nocht with Ill.”
“Schir,” said that schene full courtasly,
“I ressaue it aluterly,
Baith the knycht and the fare prayere!
I sall haue nane vthir, nowthir hyne na heir!”
Now Porrus hes his ȝarnyng all,
Lady and lemman, gent and small.

334

Wist his father how he had wrocht,
That ilk day deir it sould be bocht,
Bot he sall wit tharof na deill,
Fra him it sall be helit weill.
The Bauderane can to Porrus say,
Lauchand, “schir, sall we wend our way?
Haue we spokin nocht ȝit our fill?”
“Ȝa,” said Porrus, “quhen ȝe will!”
Thay went furth, quhen thay leuit war
With mad murning and sichingis sare.
Amang thame four thay suore and hecht,
I na wait quhat, be God of mycht!
Out the chalmer thay went in hy,
And met the King delyuerly,
Amang his men that maist war prysit.
Said Alexander, “quhidder ar ȝe auysit?”
“With ȝour leif, schir, will we fare!”
And he thame gaif thare leif richt thare;
Thay loutit to him and ȝeid thare gait,
Cassamus led thame to the ȝet,
Alsua Arreste and Gaudefeir,
And Betys, that was fare and fere.
Thay went furth to thare pauilloun,
And thay agane went to the toun.
The King askit Cassamus als fast,
“Ar thay of Inde thare wais past?”
“Ȝa, schir,” said Cassamus, “parde,
Thay may now neir thare menȝe be!”
Said Alexander, “sa God me mend!
Gif that thay weill may bring to end
Thair vowes, thay sall weill honorit be!”
Antigonus than cryit he,

335

And lukit to Emynedus,
And, lauchand, to him said he thus,
“Hes thow Ferrandis maister sene,
And gif he had wonnin bene?”
“Ȝa,” said the duke, “and wonder weill
Behaldin him (sa haue I seill!).
Gif euer I knew man or wyfe,
He is staluart in ilka stryfe,
And of outtragious hardement,
Bot I haue dout, (sa God me ment!)
That ȝour suord beis nocht in sauete
All hale, bot gif ȝour armes be
Stark and ȝour neiffis closed weill!
Ȝour Gissarne sall ȝow helpe na deill,
That at ȝour arsoun hingand is!”
Said Caulus, “(sa haue I blis!)
Spokin thairof sa mekill haue we,
I dreid we ȝit reprouit be!”
Said Alexander, “weill may fall,
Bot this ane thing conforts vs all
That it alwayis sall cum to me
That God hes damned in destane!”
That bourd or it be assayit,
The Indeans sall be full affrayit.
Quhair the King thus can bourd and play,
The barrounis raid thair hey way
To Clarus tent, and lichted thair.
Amang thame rais the harrot hare,
Feistand thame with nobill cheir,
“Lordingis,” said Clarus, “I wald heir
Ȝon Kingis cumming that leifis on pray.
For pouerty makes he sik deray!”

336

“Schir, be the faith I to ȝow aw,”
Said Porrus, “efter that I can knaw,
Sik ane to my sicht thair is cummine
That I can nocht tell na deuine,
For he is hardy, gud and gay,
And ferly fare, forout affray;
Bot thay ar nocht, forouttin wene,
Sa mony as I wenit thay had bene,
For, quha wald tell all thair menȝe,
Ma I trow thare sould nocht be
[Than] thretty thousand of all kin men.”
“Perfay, me think,” said Clarus then,
“That ȝon fals King dois great foly
To put him-selfe in Ieopardy,
With sa quhene that may nocht be
Ane denner to my great menȝe!
Ȝon wrangus couating of gude,
It byrd shent all that sa gais wod.
Thay salbe venged, gif I dar say,
That he disherist mony ane day.
All this warld him hates, I hecht,
Als fer as he vmbesettis richt!”
Clarus all thusgate said his will,
Bot nane consentand was him till.
Than Marciane said, that all micht heir,
“Fare sueit eme, I wald ȝe were
Richt sik as he is (sa God me blis!).
Amend ȝour lyfe and leif him his,
For ȝe ar war than I dar say!”
Than was thare nane that thay na pray
For Marciane all preuelly,
And said amang thame commonly,

337

“Marciane gais the suithfast gait!
He is nocht lyke sum that I wait,
That sayis, ‘my lord sayis richt weill,’
And assentis to his will ilk deill!”
Clarus vox rid for shame in hy,
For he wist weill and witterly
That his cousing the suith can say.
He said na word, nouther ‘ȝe’ nor ‘nay.’
To his eme wele spak Marcien,
And Clarus rais amang his men
And, lauchand, said, “my cousing here
Hes said me suith, forouttin were.
Now be nocht wraith, for all sall weill
Amendit be euer ilk deill,
The richt auansit, wrang away!”
“In thanke we tak it, shir!” said thay,
“And we sall serue ȝow with gude will,
In vs ȝe sall neuer find ill!”
With that word thay haue wonnen, I wis,
Ma freinds than Alexander and his,
Of men quhen thay sall armit be.
“Lordingis, mekill thank!” said he.
“Now pray I that ȝour geir be dicht
And ȝour hors shod all at richt,
To-morne all hale and monunday
That ȝe be reddy, but delay,
Sa that on tyisday I will airly
We be on hors all halely,
Armit with speiris and with blasounis,
Ane lytill outwith the pauilliouns,
The standart dressed vp of Inde,
That Gaudefere it varnist finde!”

338

Than cryis Indeanis, “or it be fellit,
Mony ane Calde thair sall be quhellit!”
Thus said the folk in to that place.
And thay that beȝond Pharoun was,
To the roch and the riuer braid
Thay had passit, maid thay na baid,
Sa that, or sounday was all gane,
Attour thay passit war euir ilkane.
Quhen thay of Grece had passit the Phare
And cummin within the citie war,
Ane great semble thare was sene.
Thare was ten thousand knychtis kene,
The nobill King to se thame gais,
And in his hart great lyking hes
Of thare fare fere, forout affray.
He thocht, and to himself couth say,
That in the warld, als far as men wait,
Mycht nane be gottin that mycht thame mait.
That day thay restit and that nycht,
Quhill on the morne that day was lycht.

Vpone the morne on mononday,
The wedder was fare, as I hard say,
And in gude tyme the nobill King
Rais, and him claid in rich clething.
About him his priue men,
In the hall ar thay cummyng then,
That with grene iasp all pantit was,
Dyaparty weill fra place to place.
Into ane wyndo he beheld
The oist that all our-spred the feild.
With that, come Cassamus the feir,
Gaudefeir and his brother deir;

339

Thare was of Grece and of Calde
Mony barroun of great bounte.
Before the King, into the hall,
The peiris of Grece war gadderit all,
That was sa stout and sa hardy.
And he thame said full lufsumly,
“Lordingis, ane hundreth thousand syce
I thank ȝow of ȝour lele seruyce,
Bot now is doubled the mystere.
Lo! the oist of Inde before vs here,
Quhare mare ryches and treasure is
Than Daurus leuit, and all his!
Thairfore, Lordingis, I say ȝow to
That quha-sa with michty hes ado,
Sould first couit to win honour,
And syne the siluer and the treasour.
Quha winnis the honour, the laif is his,
And quha first ȝarnis the gude, I wis,
Honour and body, I warne ȝow weill,
He leissis all euer ilka deil.
For couatyse vpon this wyse
Reiffis haly that to honour lyis.
Bot we haue bene fortherwart thairof;
Thairfore our goddis haue the loif.
The morne sall the great battell be,
For-thy suld we puruey and se
How that we wyisly micht tailȝe,
And keip vs fra this great battailȝe.
Ane man me tald, bot short quhyle ere,
How thay deuysit of thare affere:
Sax battellis haue thay made, I hecht,
And to ilkane gude chiftane and wicht.

340

Porrus sall haue the first escheill,
And the Bauderane, that wait I weill,
Sall haue the tothir in leding;
Him bird be hardy attour all thing
Sen he halely in lufe is laucht.
Caneus, as the man me thaucht,
Sall haue the thrid to keip and lede,
And Caleos, that is gude at neid,
Sall haue the ferd, [and] Salphadyne
Sall lede the last battale syne.
Clarus sall cum behynd thame sa,
On athir hand he garris thame ga.
I wait nocht, bot disagysitly
Than hes he ordanit thame halely,
Baith his battelis and his stering.”
Said Cassamus, “be heuinnis King,
He dois wysly, for, sic ane scheild,
He garris his men our-tak the feild.”
He rais on his feit and stude,
And said [to] Cassamus the gude,
“Beauschir, hald the by vs neir,
And ken vs quhen thow seis mister!
Thow hes in mony bargane bene,
And mekill can, and mare hes sene!
To-morne, gif God will, we sall fecht.
Now help God for his mekill mycht!
To-nycht at euin the trew sall faill,
Tharefore I rede, and geuis counsale,
That we thair-out ly all this nycht,
Ilk man armyt all at richt,
Sa that we be on our best wyse
Buskit, or that the sone begin to ryse.

341

To ly heir it war nyste,
For gif Clarus thairof micht se”

[_]

Two lines are missing from the text here.

Said Cassamus, “ȝe say richt wele,
And sa sall done be ilka dele!
Now is it tyme that we deuyse
Our battellis and on quhat-kin wyse
That ȝe will ordour ȝour menȝe.
And gif vs, gif ȝour willis be,
The first battell, for the steir
Is ouris, that all wait baith far and neir!”
Emynedus said, “sa may nocht fall!
Ȝe saw Porrus, before ȝow all,
Hecht he suld reif me my steid;
Betuix the battellis sould this deid
Be done; thairfore me think skill
It sould be myne!”—“I grant thair till!”
Said Cassamus, “for in ȝour bounte
Soueranely affy I me!”
The King about lukit and saw
His princes and barrouns standand on raw,
That oft in battell and in stour
Had entred, thame to win honour.
He callit the gude Emynedoun
And said him with courtes ressoun,
“Schir duke, this battell gif I the!
And Philote als thy fere salbe,
That wele can stryke with sheild and spere,
Defend his freind, his fais dere.
Ȝe sall haue in ȝour cumpany
Tua thousand knichtis that ar hardy;
Quharefore I pray to god Marcus
To keip Ferrand fra Porrus!”

342

Emynedus said, “shir, leif Ferrand,
And Hape ȝow wele to kepe ȝour brand
Fra the Bauderane Cassiale!
Ferrand salbe kepit but fale!”
Quhen Alexander hard Emynedus
Dispytusly spake and wryth him thus,
Sayand that he sould keip his steid,
Quha-euir was wraith or quha war weid,
In hart he maid great cheir,
And callit Dauclene and Tholomere:
“Lordingis,” said that nobill King,
“The tothir battelle in leding
I gif ȝow, to keip myne honour,
With tua thousand men of valour,
That ar all hale ȝing bacheleris,
Wicht, hardy and stout of feiris!
Thay will nocht faill for dout of dede!”
“Schir,” said Dauclene, “sa God me rede!
To-morne assemble gif we may,
Or it be mydwart of the day,
Sa great wonder thare ȝe sall se
That the best of thare menȝe
Sall nocht abyde into the stouris,
Na anys behald the best of ouris!”
“Weill worth the, Dauclene!” said the King,
“Me bird [the] lufe in mekill thing!”

Qvhen Dauclene had said his corage,
The King dressit vp his visage,
And [said], “lo heir fare auantage,
That Clarus in our heritage
Hes brocht sa great riches heir!
To-morne we sall the battale steir;

343

Gif we na do, we sall haue blame,
And, eftir the skaith, reprufe and schame!
Cum furth, Lycanor and Lyoun,
And the thrid Battale [I] abandoun
To ȝow, that worthy ar and wyse,
With tua thousand men of prys,
Worthy and of great vassalage,
To bring to end ane great outrage!”
“Schir,” said Lyoun and Licanor,
“We sall do weill and God before!”
“I can nocht ken ȝow,” said the King,
“Bot to-morne in the mornyng
Honour sall be set to saill.
At speris streking ȝe sall all hale
Be Kingis sonnes euir ilka deill.
Ane gude man bird me cherys weill
That in ane Iournay anerly
Garris all him prys commonly.
Festioun, my freind, cum heir!
Thow sall haue, to keip and steir,
The ferd battale, with tua thousand,
Staluart in ilka stour to stand.
Antigorus sall with the be,
That in battell and great melle
Can stryke great straikis amang his fais
And help to his that mister hes!”
“This gift,” said Festioun, “bird nocht greif
To him that wald his body preif
And for his Lord him abandoun!”
He said, “fare fall the, Festioun!”

The King sat on the marbill gray,
And to auld Cassamus can he say,

344

“Thow art borne of this countre,
And maist is louit with ȝour menȝe,
Baith ane and vther, thow knawis thame all.
The fyft battell gouerne thow sall,
And Arreste sall with the be,
That is fulfillit of all bounte,
With knychtis anew and gude squyers,
With pensallis and displayit baneris;
And the commouns of Effesoun
Sall duell here and keip the toun.
Thare, think I, sall be our repare
Efter the fecht, gif vs fallis fare,
For, micht Clarus victored be
That voyd war left the citte,
He sould preis in, fra we war forth,
For wyues defence is lytle worth!”
Cassamus said, “I grant thairto!
I ganesay nocht that ȝe will do!”
“Ga here, Perdicas” said the King,
“Thy avow hes haly tane ending.
Thow most on new avow on neid!”
And he ansuered, as he war weid;
“Schir, as ȝe bid, it sall be done!
And be the Heuin, Sone and Mone,
I sall mak sik avow that sall
Be wele auysit, and thare-with-all
I sall mentene it with all my mane,
Thocht I sould die into the pane!
I avow, hechtis and sweiris raith
That betuix the battellis baith
I sall to-morne with all my gere,
Forouttin hors, with sheild and spere,

345

Be into the middes of the feild
That neuer, for man that lyfe may weild,
Sall I haue hors, bot gif it be
Wonnin of nane bot of me,
Throw strenth of armes and of hand!
This word I pray ȝow vnderstand!”
Said Alexander, “(sa God me se!)
With mekill wrang thow wraithis the.
Certis I did it for nane ill,
Na ȝit was na thing in my will!”
Quhen Betys hard the King, he rais
And said, “I avow and vndertais
To ga fute for fute with Perdicas.
I sall to-morne ga pais for pais,
And haue no hors, bot I him winnin,
To fulfill that he hes begunnin.”

“Velcvm!” said Perdicas, “perfay,
Sik fallow that in will is ay
Vnmeasured strakes to gif and tak,
Is gude acquentance with to mak!”
With [that], ane hundreth and fyfty nere
Of knichtis that of the countre were,
Avowit all for Betys sake
That thay suld thame cumpany make
And do alsmekill of armes thare
As thay that full wele horsit ware.
“Thir folk ar wod!” said thay of Grece,
“For we lufe ane full gude pece.
I hope we sall nocht se na day
For ane sa mony mak deray!”

The King had ferly quhan he saw
The knichtis stert vp all on raw,

346

That for Perdicas and Betys
Hes vndertane sa hie ane prys
As for to fecht in middes the feild,
On fute, all armit with spere and sheild,
Betuix the battellis arrayit to fecht,
Quhare xl thousand beis, I hecht,
That deidly thame hates, ilka man.
Greatly in hart he lofit thame than,
And said, “I will on na kin wyse
Let Perdicas of his empryse,
Na nane that cummin is him till,
For it amouis of hardy will.
Bot lytill I wraithit him lang ere,
Bot (sa the goddis fra wa me were!)
I thocht nane euill, bot that the toun
I wald war kepit fra treasoun;
For, wist Clarus that the citte
War voyd of men, alsone sould he
To enter with all his micht assay.”
And Perdicas was still, perfay,
And quoke for shame, I vnderta,
Quhen he the King saw meik him sa.
Than leuch thay all that was him neir,
And Alexander alsua maid gude cheir.
Quhen Alexander with Perdicas
And Betys, that his fallow was,
With gammin bourdit had and playit
Of the first avow, that doun was layit,
And of the tother, that stoutest was,
Great glaidschip in hart he hes,
And said, “lordingis now worthis me
Deuyse at laser quha sall be

347

With me into my awin battale.
I sall haue thame that will nocht fale,
Of Massidone, myne awin countre,
And thay of Grece sall ga with me,
Tua thousand knychtis, wicht and hardy.
Caulus, cum furth here, bellamy!
At my brydill with-hald the,
And keip me in [the] great melle!”
Said Caulus, “schir, (sa God me sane!)
The noy, the trauell and the pane
That I haue dreit, is quyte me weill,
Quhen that relick, that great ioweil,
Is thusgate in my keping set.
Now haue I that I greuit to get,
Honour alsmekill as I wald haue.
I wald nocht tak, (sa God me saue!)
In thanke to change all parradys
For this hie gift that geuin me is.
I had it leuer weill alway
Than all ȝour conquest to this day!”
“Grant mercy!” than said the King,
“That is to thank in mekill thing!”

Cavlvs was glaid and full of blis,
And the gude King amang all his
Than said, “Lordingis, with sely werd,
To-morne airly with spere and swerd,
I will ilkane, strange and priue,
Vpon ȝour hors all armit be,
Ane lytill before the Sone rysing,
Quhen ȝe heir tauburnes and trumping!
On lyfe and guds this command I!
Syne sall we ryde richt hardely,

348

And pas we all with spere and scheild,
Sa that we first may tak the feild;
Syne sall we se the ordaning
Of thame of Inde and thare cumming.”
“Schir Floridas,” said the King, “ga here!
Thow art to me baith leif and dere,
For thow hes seruit me lelely;
That salbe quit the hastelly,
Efter this weir, gif I may leif!
My brydill reinȝeis heir I the geif,
To keip me in the great battaill.
Keip thow me weill forouttin faill,
Thow sall haue proffeit and honour.
I lippin in thy great valour.
Thocht thow be fer and of strange countre,
Of simpill men, and into the
Be alkin worship at deuyce
In thocht and dede and lele seruyce,
The mare all out men sould the lufe,
Cheris and honour and gude dede prufe;
Sa sall I do, (sa God me rede!)
Gif I ocht lang lyfe may lede!
Thairof suld nane anoyit be,
Na think inuy na mauite.
Thocht ane gude man, to myne intent,
Micht borne be throw enchantment,
Ȝit think me that men bird him do
All that gude man afferit to!”
“For this gift,” said Floridas,
“I na wald tak all Damas!”
“Floridas,” said the King of prys,
“I leif me in thy fare seruice

349

Till all that ar in my pouer.
I sall the quyte weill and fare:
My renȝe to ȝeme I the betak,
To lede me quhare cowartis sall quaik,
For weill I wait that laute
And he honour is set in the.
My countre-men sall with me ga,
Of Grece and Massidone alsua.”
Said Floridas, “deir God! quhen I
Deseruit to haue ȝone senȝeory
That the gude King hes hecht to me?”
“In thy seruice, vassale” said he,
“That, gif I leif, sall be the quyte
Weill mare than I deuyse the ȝit!”

Now hes the King his battellis all
Deuysit, and ordainit all that sall
Be at the brydill of the melle.
With him the folk of his countre,
Thame will he haue that weill can fecht.
Thay war na wynning with na mycht,
Bot of antecessory was his,
Fra air to air, lang forrow this.
Quhare gude men is lele and kynd,
Quhare thow him leiffis, thow sall him find,
Na neuer sall fail quhill he may last.
Quhen the King his affere hes past,
Gaudefeir tuke him by the sleif,
That how he mycht this weir escheif
Set all his thocht and his etling,
And, lauchand, to him said the King,
“Thy battale lukit lang quhyle gane,

350

For sic as thow hes vndertane,
Bot gif we escheif it weill,
Suld turne to honour ilka deill.”
“Schir,” said the chylde, “destanit is!
With Goddis help I trow ay this
Sall wonder weill perfurnist be
To-morne, long or men euin se!”
Said Grecians, “blissing mot thow bere!
Thy father was douchty Gaudefere.
His worship, hope I, wele in the
Sall soueranely restored be!”
The folke of Grece to Gaudefere
Kythit mekill thanke for his effere,
For hardement wele in him thay saw.
“Schir,” said Cassamus, “parde, I knaw
To ishe is tyme, for it is lait!”
“Now ga we,” said the King, “our gait!”
Than armit they thame, les and mare,
Thretty thousand on hors thay ware;
The commouns left in Effesoun;
Ay tua and tua ishit of the toun.
Thare was mony ane broudin banere
And mony ane pennoun of seir manere,
Mony ane helme and mony ane sheild
And mony ane steid, quha thame beheld.
The baner of Massidone, I wis,
On ane great spere attachit is.
Quhan thay of Grece than hes it sene,
Haly beheld thay it bedene.
Pallas Elyachim it sent
To Alexander into present,
The Quene of Maydinnis that was fre.

351

Into the baner men micht se
Alexanders figure, made all hale
Of stanes, of gold and esmale,
That semit was of semet grene;
It micht attour all the hoste be sene.
Thare was na hilles, but all was plane;
Thare lugit they, the men of mane.
And thay of Inde to armes ran;
Thare had the fechting bene richt than,
Bot Marciane gart it be forborne,
And said the trewis lest quhill the morne.
Thus armit all the nicht thay lay
Quhill on the morne that it was day;
On ather syde than war thay dicht,
And buskit thame all for the fecht.
Thare was mony ane douchty man
In will to do great worship than.

END OF VOL. III.

354

Men micht thame knaw all halely;
Before thame [that] rydes, sarraly
Thay ȝeid, thinkand to haue horssine
Gif that thare fais ony tyne!
The battellis raid on ilka syde.
The Massidons, ar full of pryde,
Straik with spurris the sterand steidis.
Emynedus, that lytill dreidis,
Come prekand forrow his fallowis thare,
Wele ane bow-draucht and mare,
Into dispyte and pryde birnand
[That] the King said tynt was Ferrand.
And Porrus on the tother party
Come, full of pryde and succudry,
Before his battell, in ane ling,
In mekill thocht and great ȝarning
For to fulfill the vow he made.
The ane agane the vther rade
As fyreflaucht that is fell to feill,
For ather of thame knew vther weill.
Betuix the battellis on the grene,
Tua bow-draucht and mare, I wene,
Emynedus come prekand that tyde,
Birnand into dispyte and pryde,
And said that Ferrand sould be dere
Bocht, or ony that mother bere
Him had away, but he him stall!
And Porrus forrow his fallowis all,
Come, wonder wilfull to fulfill
His avow with gude hart and will.
Sik strakes thay set in middes thair sheldes
Quhill flenderis flew furth in the feildis,

355

The staluart speiris to-frushit ware.
With breistis, bodeis and sheildis bare
Thay hurkled with helmes sua
Quhill baith to erd can bakwartis ga,
And lang quhyle lay into suouning,
And thare hors remouit na thing.
Porrus rais first, that was manly,
Smert, delyuer, stout and hardy,
And of his avow vmbethocht him thare
And of thame that in kyrnallis ware.
His hors he leued, and to Ferrand he ȝeid,
And lap vpon him full gude speid,
But steroppis, richt delyuerly,
And syne in steroppis sturdely
[Sat,] graithed thare as for to fecht.
He had nocht ben sa glaid, I hecht,
For ane thousand pund winning!
“Perfay,” said Fesonas the ȝing,
“This avow encheifit is stoutly.
Ferrand is win richt apertly!”
Now is Porrus sa glaid and blyth
That he was neuer in all his lyfe
Halfe sa glaid for na winning.
“Deir God!” said he, “be heuinnis King,
Quhat thow honored hes me greatly
Quhen that I, throw my great foly,
Profferit to iust with sik ane knicht,
Sa stout, sa hardy and sa wicht!
And with honour my great foly
Is now encheiffit apertly!
My succudry sould me haue shent!

356

How euer me fall, now is it went
That myne avow fulfillit is,
For Ferrand haue I winnin, I wis!”
With that, he girdit throw the meid.
Emynedus start, that hard the steid.
Delyuerly on fute he gat,
His sheild embraissit he fast with that,
And to Porrus richt hard can cry,
“Cum furth, vassale, I the defy,
For thy avow fulfillit is!”
“Schir,” said Porrus, “grand mercyis!
I will nocht, shir, wit ȝe weill,
On fute fecht neuer a deill,
For na ryches! bot tak Basand,
That I haue changed for Ferrand!
Leip on, shir, gif ȝour willis be!
The bargane syne begin sall we!”
Emynedus said, “I grant thairtill!
Thow art worthy of hardy will,
Wele worth him that the nurist sa!”
To Bausand he belyue couth ga,
Lap on and strenȝeit him sturdely,
And said to Porrus dispittusly,
“Vassale, now fall I Ferrand haue.”
Said Porrus, “shir (sa God me saue!)
It may weill be, bot maugre his
It salbe, that in sesing is!”
And with that word thay samin sprent,
Fulfilled of ire and matelent;
Betuene thame salbe great melle,
Bot gif thay sone departit be!
Now hes thir tua changed thare steidis.

357

Emynedus, the gude at neidis,
[Was] stout and hardy, bauld and wicht,
And Porrus forsy was in fecht;
On helmes, sheildis and shoulderis braid
Sik routis thay raucht, sik pay thay maid,
That fra thair straikis flew the fyre.
Emynedus, was full of ire
And shamefull for the ladyes fre
That micht him fra the kirnallis se,
Porrus embraissit sturdely,
And Ferrand thocht to get in hy
Or his wening be fulfilled all,
For Porrus, that him prysed small,
Full hardely him hint agane.
Thay had gane doun, baith, with pane,
Na war Philot, that to the fecht
Come prekand in ane randoun richt,
And thay of Inde on ather party,
That battellis mellit commonly.
Thair first battell thusgait can semble,
Quhair hardy can gar the couartis trimble,
That, of the tua best of the oist
On that day was in haubrik doist,
Was led and gouerned all at richt.
Porrus hes weill fulfilled his hecht,
For, how-soeuer it was begunnin,
Betuix the oistis was Ferrand wonnin,
Sa that throw the feild was fene
And on the walles with ladyes shene.
Than throw the oist the murmure rais,
And hir intent said Fesonas,
And Ideas, that was fre,

358

And hir sister, dame Idore,
That war in Kirnallis of the tour
For to behald the staluart stour,
And als to thame that thay luiffit,
How that thay thame pruffit:
“I haue great ferly,” said Fezoun,
“That the best and maist of renoun
Of all this warld his hors hes tynt
Withoutin ony suerdis dynt.
Porrus hes wynnin him with mycht.
Ȝit sittis he in his sadill richt!”
“Sik is hap, dam,” quod Ydeas,
“To gude man fallis sum quhyle per cais
Sik thing that wiked durst nocht do,
And, madame, mare it is to,
For great wirship or deray,
Or ellis for happynes of the day!”
“Thow sayis suith,” said Fezonas.
With that, come prekand Philotas;
He straik ane Indeaine with ane spere
And throw the bodye he can him bere.
In thretty placis begouth the fecht.
Thare was defoulit mony ane knycht,
And mony ane bouell with hors drawin,
That life leuand had nocht thare awin.
Besyde the battale Perdicas,
On fute, embraissit the talwas,
Come before the Kingis battale,
Armit in fetas apparale,
Betys and weill seuin score neir,
With cote-armouris of quayntis seir.
Aganis thame of Pers thay ȝeid,

359

That Marciane had to keip and leid.
Quhair euer thay ga, the fecht was heat,
Maid neuer fute-men sik debeat,
For thay war wonder stark and hardy,
Armit at all pointes fetasly.
Perdicas held ane dart, I hecht,
And smait ane Persiane with all his micht
That him micht helpe nather helme na sheild;
He felled him doun dede in the feild,
And to Betys said he syne,
“Lepe on, fallow, this hors is thyne!”
“I will nocht, fallow,” said Betys,
“Haue na hors on na kin wys
Bot I him win throw fors in fecht!”
Said Perdicas, “thow sayis all richt.
We sall haue anew alsuyth,
Maugre quha be wraith or blyth!”
Thvs Perdicas in middes the feild
Was vpon fute, with spere and scheild,
And Betys, that was gude and gay,
And vther fallowis als perfay,
That wele war armit and richely.
Amang Persians sa hardely
Thay rusched, [the blude] fra bodeis bare
Ran out in stremis here and thare.
Quhen Marciane saw that, he was wraith
And strenȝeit his steid with spurris baith,
And smait Perdicas in the scheild,
And felled him flatlingis in the feild
Before his fallowis, bot he was smart,
And lichtly vpon fute he start,
And Marciane with his handis baith

360

To him hint and ruggit raith
Quhill he fell of the steid of prys,
Before his fete; than said Betys,
“Perfay, lo here gude cheualry!”
Thare had Marciane richt haistelly
Bene slane, bot that he wounder weill
Defendit him with his suerd of steill,
And thay of Pers with strenth and mycht
Reskewit and horssit him in the fecht.
Of thame of Grece and Ynd, I wys,
The battaill hard & greuand is.
Quhen Marciane reskewit was
Fra Betys and fra Perdicas,
The tothir battale come rydand;
Thay war of gude men tua thousand,
That wald nocht fle for dout of deid;
Dauclene and Tholomere can thame lede,
Les than ane pace, with speris straucht.
To Caleos thair wayis caucht,
That was hie prince of Amory,
Clarus sone that was mychty,
That agane thame with ten thousand
And ma, quhat Lord or quhat seruand,
Come weill arrayit and sarraly.
Before his fallowis, hardely
Come Caleos, strekand his spere.
Agane him girdis Tholomere,
Cryand, “vassale, lo heir thy way!
Na bute thow sall on bak, perfay!”
With that, thay straik with speiris, I hecht;
Thare hors ran in ane randoun richt.
Thay straik sik strakis quhill the blasons

361

Thay thirllit and the habirgeonis.
Caleos brak his staluart spere,
Bot nathing derit it Tholomere,
And Tholomere sik ane rout him raucht
With all his mene and all his maucht
That to the erd he rushit rath,
Woundit outhrow the sydis baith;
And girdit forby [in] myddes the grene.
Alexander that straik hes sene;
“It sall richt weill forȝoldin be
Gif I leif lang in liege pouste!”
Quhen Caleos feld that he was sa
Woundit, I warne ȝow he was wa,
He rais vp suyth, for he was wycht,
His men him followit in the fecht,
Tua thousand war, wycht and hardy;
Thay horsit him delyuerly.
Quhen he feld him on hors, I hecht,
Inflamit of ire, in randoun richt,
He smait ane Grecian in the sheild
That hede and helme sprent in the feild;
Ane vthir he trunschonit euin in tua,
The thrid gart to the erd ga,
The fourt he slew foroutin frist,
And ma than ten, or he wald rest.
Quhen Dauclene saw that, he can cry,
“Wassale, that bargane thow sall by!
In euill tyme was thow borne
Quhen throw the sa fele liffis beis lorne!
Bot now it sall be sald full deir!”
The gyssarne, that was schairp and cleir,
With baith his handis he threw on hicht,

362

And hit Caleos with all his micht,
Throw the syde, ane rimmill ryde.
Na war his haubrek at that tyde
Held, he had to-hewin bene
That men his longis micht haue sene.
The battellis mellit on ilka syde,
Geuand and takand routis ryde,
And brushand thame out of that stede;
And Caleos eschaped the dede.
The cumming of the thrid battale
Was fers and fell, forouttin fale.
Lycanor led it and Lyoun,
With tua thousand men of renoun,
Armit cleinly at all richt,
With helmes, sheildis and byrneis bricht,
Caneus come on ather party,
Girdand with ane great cumpany,
That wele ten thousand was, I hecht.
Bot thay war armit euill to fecht;
Vnder thair sheildis thay war naked,
Na wonder thocht thair hartis quaked.
Thay sall nouther hardement haue nor micht
Aganis armit men to ficht.
At speiris streiking sa foull thay fell
That tua thousand, as I hard tell,
And ma, into thair first cumming
War laid at eard but recouering;
The remanent thair gait ar gane,
And Caneus left all him allane.
For he suat for shame all egerly,
Defendand him as knicht hardy,
Mony ane Grecian hes he felled;

363

Bot neuer-the-les he had bene quelled
Throw Grecians that assailȝeit fast,
Quhen Lyoun knew him at the last;
He cryit heichly, “ȝeild the to me,
Or eillis thy lyfe lorne wil be!
Ȝeild the, Caneus, or thow de!
Thy men ar failȝeit, luke quhair thay fle!”
Caneus him hard richt weill,
Bot he him ansuered neuer a deill,
Bot fra that battell can him speid,
And to the Bauderanes hoste he ȝeid.
The fourt battell, forout affray,
Come sarraly and in gude array;
Antigorus thame led, I hecht,
And Festioun that was sa wicht,
With tua thousand, wicht and hardy,
Armit at all pointes cleinly;
Thame failȝeis nocht quhat euer nedes,
Strekand with spurris the sterand steides,
To Salphadyne thay ȝeid thair way,
That ȝoung and ioly was and gay.
Antigorus, before his feiris,
To him the nerrest steid he steiris,
And he to him come hard, I hecht;
Sik straikis thay gaue in sheildis bricht
That speiris all to-frushit are,
Far by thay passit withouttin mare;
With that, all mellit the remnand,
Visage to visage, hard fechtand.
The feildis was fare, the day was cleir,
And the battellis richt fell in feir.
Cassamus was armit weil,

364

And was baith styth and stark as steill,
Ten thousand knichtis at his banere,
Of Effesoun and of Daurere;
Thay war of na strange countre
On vther halfe the feild saw he
Clarus of Inde and Marcien
And with thame ten thousand men.
Thay held thair gate in hale battale
To Alexander, straucht the vale.
Cassamus that persauit had als tyte,
And had thairat full great dispyte,
His steid he straucht and cryit his senȝe,
“Tortoun! I shrew him that will fenȝe.
Schir harrold, thow sall heir away
And haue thy fill of fecht, perfay!
Thow wald haue Fesonas the ȝing,
Bot thow sall by thy barganing,
How that euer the gamming ga!”
Clarus him hard and was full wa.
Qvhan that of Inde the auld Clarus
Saw neir him cumand Cassamus,
Fer forrow his fallowis in the feild
He sprent furth, couered vnder sheild.
He said, “fare nece, seis thow ȝon menȝe?
Thay were vs with thair oist to fle.
Leif, freind! lat me and him allane!”
“I grant it weill,” quod Marciane,
“I quyteclame ȝow my part ilk deill!
Ȝe haue short space ȝe venge ȝow weill.
May ȝe him slay, thir folke, perfay,
Thairthrow beis febled fast away!”
Than Clarus prekit his steid in hy,

365

Fer forrow all his cumpany.
Qvhen Cassamus him saw, I wis,
Ioyfull he was and full of blis.
Cryand “Tortoun!” his spere he straucht.
In middis the teith sic rowtis thay raucht
Quhill the speris [war] all to-frushit
And thay to erd bakuartis dushit;
Bot Cassamus, that was worthy,
Stert on fute delyuerly,
And lap vpone his hors perfay;
Bot Clarus ȝit in swowning lay.
With that, come Marciane to the stour,
To help his eme and to succour,
With ten thowsand, wicht and hardy,
And the King of Pincarny,
Wald nocht faill him for na thing,
He had thair sa great gadering
That weirit palice and tyre
And silkin towellis that war schire,
Bot thay schot weill, and weill couth sle;
Fechtand, thame worthis leif or dee.
On athir half come Arrestes,
That couth him weill preif in the preis,
With the knychtis of Effezoun,
That gude war and of gude renoun.
About Clarus was the battale
Baith fers and fell, foroutin faill,
For all dang on and hewit, I hecht,
Ilkane faucht fast with all thare mycht.
Thare was to-hewin mony blasoun,
And thirllit mony habirgeoun,
Mony breist and mony entrale

366

Wndir feit defoulit in the battale.
Marciane him defendit fast,
And auld Clarus at the last
Stert vp on fite, that hard the dintis
Of wapnis that on helmis styntis.
Embressit his sheild, his suerd he drew,
And about him sik strakis threw
That suddanly thay skalit all.
Quham euir he hit, he gart him fall,
Thare nedit na leche on thame to luke!
He all to-hewit that he our-tuke.
He contenit him sa hardely
That, maugre thairis halely,
He had bene horssit in that place,
Quhan Betys come and Perdicas;
Thay dedainȝeit to haue na hors, I hecht,
On fute thay horssit thame to fecht,
The folk of Ynd thay counterit sa
That thay thame fle, quhair euer thay ga.
The king of Pincarny, I wis,
Thay haue discumfit, and all his,
Syne come agane quhair Clarus faucht
And about him sic rimmillis raucht,
Thare was the mischeif sa cruell,
And the battale sa fers and fell,
That in that place weill tua thousand
War lyand, or than suownand.
All was enforssit quhen Perdicas
Come, and Betys, that worthy was.
Thay ȝeid togiddir sa sarraly,
With thare fallowis that war worthy,
And sa arrayit that, be thare fare,

367

It semit togidder thay brether ware,
That in armes had done sa weill
That xxx thousand, armit in steill,
Had left the feild and gane thare gait.
And auld Clarus was handlit hait,
Bot with ane gissarne that he bare
Sik routis raucht about him thare.
Perdicas lansit to him, I hecht;
Thare had Clarus to deid bene dicht,
Quhill Cassamus can cry, “vassale,
Leif him and all his harnes hale!
For I avowit this hinder day
To helpe him, as thow hard me say,
Gif that I sawe perrell or greif!
And now I se the great mischeif!”
Said Perdicas, “I grant thairtill,
And sall helpe him sa that ȝe will!”
Qvhan Cassamus thair forbidding
Had made, to helpe Clarus the King
He commandit thame, baith great and small,
And said thir wordis to thame all:
“Se ȝe do him na villany,
For I avowit before the cumpany
Gif that I fand him at mischeif,
In point of deid, perrell or grief,
That throw me he sould helpit be!
To fulfill my auow, parde,
I sall do here na musardy,
Bot the gudman nocht-for-thy,
I trow, sall turne it all to gude!”
To Clarus come he quhare he stude,
He brocht ane hors, and said him syne,

368

“Lepe on, Beaushir! this hors is thyne.
In this, mekill I haue helpit ȝow,
Bot fra hyne furth thow sall fale, I trow!”
The auld lap on, of ire fulfilled,
For he was doggit and euill willed.
The fecht felly begouth with that,
Arreste than on Forrall sat,
Straucht his spere delyuerly,
And smot the King of Pincarny;
The spere out throw his hart he bare,
And he dushit to the erd richt thare
And Marciane richt hard can cry,
“Allace, quhat our cumpany
Is febled of this ane dynt here!
Thy foly, eme, now sall appere,
The folke of Inde and Pers all fled,
And the King of Pincarne had shed
His hart blude, and to death is dicht;
He helpis vs na mare in fecht.
Our harme tell all I na will,
Na I na ma, it is na skill,
For of our men sa mony ar dede
That all the feild thay oursprede.”
Qvhen the King of Pincarny was slane,
King Clarus was full vnfane.
He said to Marciane, “fare cousine,
Quha slew the King of Pincarnine?”
“Schir, Arreste,” said Marcien,
“Ane of Alexanders men.”
“Allace,” said auld Clarus the hare,
“Ane euill nichtbour had I thare!
On this tyisday airly hes he

369

Ouer tratourly wrethit me!
Bot may I him meit, wit ȝe weill,
I sall him venge with sword of steill!”
With that, his sword in hand he hint
And to Cassamus, or he wald stint,
He raid and raucht him sik ane rout
That, thocht he was baith styth and stout,
He gart him on his arsoun ly,
Magre his, all dissaly.
With that, the Bauderane come prekand,
With banare displayit and spere in hand,
That was rede and austryne,
All our frettit with siluer fyne.
His legemen about him ware,
That weill x thousand war & mare.
Rydand als fast as thay moucht,
Alexander the King thay socht;
Thay may auante [thame] gif thay will,
That thay sall haue fechting thare fill!
Qvhan Alexander saw the Bauderane
Cum with his banare all plane,
And thay of Bauderis that about him war,
That weill x thousand war and mair,
He knew him weill by his armyng.
Till Caulus, lauchande, said the King,
And till Floridas alsua,
“Lordingis, seruandis, till ȝow I sa,
Of him ȝone man plenȝe I me,
That mananses that my suerd salbe
Reft maugre myne out of myne hand!
Till tak it now he makis sembland!”
Said Floridas, “I vnderta

370

That, or it be reft far ȝow fra,
Mony man sall recryand be,
And ȝour-selfe (sa God saue me!)
I knaw ȝow for sa mychty with all
That ȝe na will him pryse bot small
Gif that ȝe cum in his meting!”
“Ȝea, gif God leiffis me!” said the King.
Togidder the battellis ȝeid with that.
Him fell full fare that in sadill fat;
Thare was mony ane gude man slane,
And mony ane steid rinnand throw the plane;
And thay that war on hors, I hecht,
Braded out their brandis bricht,
Slew and hewit; the strakes war great;
About thame buffettis can thay beat;
All faucht tha folk, was nane tuke rest,
Ilkane helpit that he micht best.
And the Bauderane, with fors fechtand,
Come to the mekill preis thirland,
In great couin of armes, I hecht.
Thare dang he on with all his micht,
Hewit, slew, and thirlit the preis;
Vpon his vow he thocht alwayes.
Alexander hes sene him weill
And said, “lordingis (sa haue I seill!)
He seikis me, and I him alsua.
Now lat vs tua togidder ga
Ane lytill quhyle, and ȝe sall se
Quhilk of vs tua best louit suld be!
Thay say we lufe, baith, parramouris;
And the ladeis in the touris
Quha beiris him best, wele may thay se!”

371

With that word, till him lansit he,
And sik ane straik on his helme him gaif
That the cirkill all to-claif.
With ane mekill mace the Bauderane
Sik ane rout him raucht agane,
Euin apon the helm of steill,
That he was disseyt ilka deill,
Sa that by the hors he him hynt.
And eftir the vndemous dynt
He lansit furth with hart and will,
And thocht his vow for to fulfill,
And hynt the King richt by the hand
And by the heltis of the brand,
And sa rude a ruche he him gaif
That he reuit it of his neif,
Magre his teith euir ilkane!
That the Bauderane had vnder-tane,
Perfurnist hes he vounder weill,
And fulfillit his vow ilk deile.
Thare-with his gait weill hes he gane,
Quhan Alexander hes him tane
By the pance, and Caulus als
Kest baith his handis about his hals,
That styth and staluart was and square,
Thus the Bauderane and Grecians ware
Togidder mellit with fechting sare,
Quhare mony wounded ware
Gif the ta part was hardy,
Conquerand war the tothir party.
That battale thusgait mellit is;
The Bauderane hes the war, I wys
The folk of Grece, as men of main,

372

Hes shreudly hanked the Bauderane,
That the Kingis burnist brand
Held, Maugre thairis, into his hand.
Thay leit him nocht haue laser lang,
Bot held him thare into that thrang,
That he wald into Inde haue bene;
For Caulus, that neir brint for tene,
Him held about the nek sa fast
That nere his hart in shunders brast.
Caulus was wilfull to fulfill
His vow with gude hart and will,
And by the mailȝeis him hint in hy,
And ruggit to him sa fellonly
That he brist all the sheild of steill
And the laces euerilk deill.
The helme he ruggit of him, I hecht,
And efter syne, with all his mycht,
Richt with the helme sa rude ane rap
He gaue him on the face ane flap
That blude out of his browis brest;
Syne for dispyte it fra him kest.
Quhen the Bauderane felt he was sa
Chaippit Caulus handis fra,
He was neuer in all his lyfe,
Wit ȝe weill, halfe sa blyth.
He beheld the burnist brand,
And brandisit into his hand;
He said, “deir God that I anour,
Quhether euer me fell sa great honour!
Encheifft is, quha sa euer allowit,
The outtragious hardiment that I avowit!”
With that, in steroppis sturdely

373

He strenȝeit him and can “Bauderanis!” cry.
The Bauderanis about him ware,
That war ten thousand men and mare;
And on vthir half the Massidons
Assailȝeid fast and the Greions.
Besyde the wallis begouth the stour,
Weill neir vnder the mekill tour,
Quhare thir thre madinnis war
That we haue oft-syes spokin are,
Of the play of the suith-fast King,
And of the outrageous avowing
To the pacok, that slew Porrus
With his bow apon chalmer Venus.
Before the ladeis, that on the tour
Lay to behald that staluart stour,
Hard and greuous was the bargane
Of Grecianis agane the Bauderane.
The soun was hie and weill neir ters
Quhen the battales sa fell and fers
War mellit, with mony a mudy word.
The Bauderane held the Kingis suord
That he had reft him magre his;
Quham-euir he hit thare-with, I wys
He lay nocht lang into langour.
Fell neuir nane so hie honour,
For fra the starkest leuand King,
And mychtyest in ilka thing,
He wan, throw grace that God can len,
His suerd amang his noblest men;
Bot Caulus can his helm arace
Of his hede, Maugre his face.
Now thay of Grece richt fast assailȝeis,

374

And hewis haubrekis, helmys and mailȝeis;
And thay of Bauderanis wounder weill
Defendit thame with suerd of steill.
Thare was na King, erle nor knycht,
Duke na admerall of mycht,
That thay na haue sa mekill ado.
Thay na wait quhat to do;
All hes thare handis full of fecht,
That sugeorne haue thay nane, I hecht,
Sa mekill harmys thare thay wrocht,
And sa vndemous rout is rocht,
That the ladeis of the tour
Wend thay had bene enchantour!
Thay said that “na men war thay that thare war,
Bot souerane Goddis, for suith, thay ar,
For nane vther may suffer lang
Sik dushes as thay togidder dang!”
With that, come worthy Floridas,
That stark, stout and sturdy was.
Quhen that he hes the Bauderane sene,
He changed hewis for proper tene;
He vmbethocht him of his avow
And thocht richt weill that it was now
Tyme to fulfill his great foly.
His suerd he aualyt haistaly
Fra him, and the Bauderane hynt,
Sa full of ire that neir he brynt
In to his armis he him tuke,
And rushit him till all he to-schuke;
And the Bauderane him hynt agane
Full sturdely, as man of mane
That luffit richt lely paramour;

375

Men sais he sall haue the mare valour.
But turne or tuke, thay worslit sua,
Rushand and rugand to and fra;
Samekill thay thole trauell and hete,
Angerris and pane, trauell and suete,
That sic ane stour attour thame stude
That euin vp to the lyft it ȝude.
Thus war thay lang that nane micht se
Quha maist that micht auansit be.
This warsling was sa fers and fell
That nane the suith with toung micht tell,
And lestit lang that nane thame saw,
For all faucht sa in that thraw
That ilk man had samekill ado
That nane tent micht tak vther to.
Fesonas, that in Kirnalles lay,
And Ideas, that was sa gay,
Held speich; thare wist thay nocht
Quhat thay war and quhat thay wrocht,
For thay war sa countred and dicht,
Sa reuin, sa rent, into the fecht
That nane ensenȝe appeared thare,
Na nane micht knaw weill quhat thay ware
Thay put and showit with all thare micht;
Floridas starkest was, I hecht,
Far away than the Bauderane.
He rugged to him with sic ane mane,
And thirled with strenth sa fast,
That his hart nere in shunder brast.
The Bauderane suounit fast, he was sa wa,
And, in that tyme that he suounit sa,
Floridas, that was gude at neid,

376

Hynt him before him vpon his steid.
With spurris he strak his hors smertly
And to the King he come in hy
With the presoner and the suord, I hecht,
That he had ȝarned with all his micht.
Quhen the King saw the Bauderane tane,
He swore be his goddis euer ilkane
That he na wald tak for that presoun
Nakin treasour, na ȝit ransoun!
Tharewith to him can he ga,
And tuke his suord away him fra,
And ane mekill, heauy mas
That with ane cheinȝe hingand was,
And said, “certis, this knycht wend weill
To slay this warld euer ilk deill,
That bare sa great ane staf, I hecht,
He traisted that he was wounder wicht!”
The Bauderane, quhen he was cummin,
Thocht shame that he was sua-gait nommin
And tynt his tyme to help his men;
Smartly in hart he menit thame then.
Alexander sent him to his tent
And maid thame strait commandement,
On lyfe and gudis, to keip him weill
Quhill the battell war done ilk deill.
The King was blyth quhen the Bauderane
Was tane, and swore (sa God me sane!)
That he wald change him on na wyse
For his wecht of gold ane hundreth syse,
Of fynit gould, fare and fyne,
And swore be the goddis that he trowit in
That he had wonnin, and tynt had thay,

377

Mare than he couth deme or say.
He releued his men with this;
The baner of Massidone, I wis,
Before him gart he baldly beir.
About him than releued thare weir
Ten thousand, armit with spere and sheild.
The King about his hoste beheld,
And saw his men baith blyth and glaid;
Staluart and stout hart ilkane had,
Spere and sword and hors of prys.
Than preked he to his enemys;
Before him fled the folk of Meid,
And thay of Bauderis thare wayes ȝeid.
As the King raid with his banere,
He gart folk fle on mony manere;
His men him followit at the bak;
The mare that thay of melle mak,
The worthyer war thay wele alway.

[377a]

The batellis faucht thare, suth to say,
Sa fast thay faucht and put agane
That of seuin battellis thay left but ane,
All put thay to the suord, I hecht;
Thare was na faltis in thair fecht.
Alexander, the King haltane,
Raid manly and his men of mane.
Cassamus him followit, I wis,
With xv thousand men of his,
And Betys als and Perdicas,
With thare rout, that sary was,
And the worthy Gaudefere,
That to fulfill his vow was nere;
The stour begouth richt perrellous,

378

Emynedus was richt cruellous;
Quhen he hes sene Porrus and Ferrand,
That nouther was sueir nor recryand,
He suore thare in to certane
That he suld Ferrand haue agane.
Now all the battellis, war thare
In ane sop assembled ware;
All ar togidder, Lord and Chiftane;
Face to face, as men of mane,
Thay faucht and funȝeit manfully;
All war thay doand halely.
Alexander and Floridas,
Dauclene, Caulus and Philotas,
And Lyonell and Tholomere,
Emynedus and Gaudefere,
Betys and Perdicas the ȝing
And all the peirs, war with the King,
War altogidder in lytill space.
Mony ane hede to-brokin was;
Mony man did mekill blude blede,
And with hard dynt harnes shed.
Bot thay on fute did wele mare skaith,
Of mischeif, noyes and bargane baith.
The folke of Inde hes left the place,
And the Grecians fast can chace;
To the standartis the feild thay wan.
Thare was sic ane noyes than,
And sa great spylling of blude,
That our the erd the stremis ȝude.
Abovt the standart, quhare the pittall
Kepit the wyne and the vittall,
Was sa cruell occisioun

379

And of battel sa great fusioun
That the slane men in hepes lay.
Gaudefeir him traualed ay
For to fulfill the avow he hecht,
Armit in harnes gude and lycht,
Haldand ane hand-ax in his hand
Of steill richt sharpe and wele sherand.
With the spurris the steid straik he
And assembled with the communte.
Disconfit sall thay be, I hecht,
And men thame sailȝe with hart and mycht.
Thare he hewit, dang and dushit,
The pepill he scalit and all to-frushit,
For thay war pure, small mardale.
Thay fled and thare hartis can faill,
Durst nane abyde to mak debait;
Thay left the standart and ȝeid thare gait.
To the standart come Gaudefere,
Arrayit gayly in his gere;
He lichtit betuix the limmounis tua,
He slew all that he micht ouerta,
And thay that in the bretes ware
Kest stanes with slungis and hurt him sare.
Thay feld him mony ane tyme that day,
Bot euer he rais and clam vp ay;
Bot maugre thairis, baith great and small,
He hes recouered the steppes all.
Quhen he come in the bretes hie,
The first he met, he gart him de,
The secound, the third, the ferd alsua.
He faucht allane, forouttin ma,
Aganis xx that armit ware.

380

Gaudefere was wele dungin thare;
Had he nocht all the better bene,
He had bene deid forouttin wene.
Bot his mycht and his hardement,
His wit and his auysement,
And the great ȝarnyng for to fulfill
His avow, hes hetit sa mekill his will
That he na prasit thame all ane stra.
Thay xx. hes he skalit sua
That seuin war slane richt in that place,
The laif war fechtand face to face.
Welanisly was he woundit thare,
The blude breist of his body bare
That he feld it nocht Ischit,
(He was sa chaiffit in that fecht)
Bot ay dang on with all his mane.
At thre straikis four hes he slane,
“Certis,” said [ane] of Inde, “shir knicht,
Foully hes thow my fallowis dicht,
For of tuenty ten ar slane!”
And Gaudefere to him is gane,
The ax in hand than lyfted he.
That saw he, that was red to de,
And of him stude sa mekill aw
That of the standart doun he flaw.
Gaudefere cryit, “doggis, ȝe sall de!”
With that, till ane than leit he fle,
That standart, maugre quha wald it warne,
That it to keip had rusit ȝarne;
The hede he claue, the body fell.
The laif fled; quhat is mare to tell?
Thare gait haly ar thay gane;

381

And Gaudefere is left allane!
Gaudefere ioyfull was, I wene,
Quhen he had sik ane menȝe sene
That fled and left all voyd the plas;
Of xx. xiii slane thare was,
The perk he hewit euin in tua,
Quhen he it saw to erd ga,
For ioy cryit he heyly heir,
“Tortoun, on Tortoun Gaudefere!
I haue fulfilled all my foly
And all my avow halely.
Now fall to-day may richt wele
Be quyt the outtrage ilka dele
That Clarus hes vs done, I wis!”
Out of the standart he lap with this;
In all this warld thare is na man
That redly had behaldin him than
That him bird till haue great dreding,
Gif he had greued him ony thing.
With that, the battellis begoud of new.
Clarus thocht bot lytill glew
Quhen he his standart saw doun fall.
With that, he called his childer all,
He said, “my standart doun is fellit!
Releif it sone or all be quellit!
Quhen thay it hard, thay war vnblyth.
Marciane straucht his spere alssuyth
And slew ane Grecian haistelly;
Sory was all thare cumpany.
Fra the standart was hewin doun
Throw Gaudefeir, Lord of Tortoun,
Into the mekill oist of Inde

382

Sa great disconfort micht men finde
That in ane hundreth places and mare
Thair battellis brokin and scalit ware.
The couartis fled all halely,
Baith in apart and preuelly,
Bot the gude, in quhom bounte
Wes harbreid and warnist in plente
And inuyroned with sueitnes,
Eschewit thare thair hardynes,
That in the renkis sic noyes ware,
Sic blasts of trumpetis heir and thare,
And of woundit sic crying,
Sic dyn, sic dintes, sic barganing,
That sic ane vther was neuer sene.
For thar war lyand on the grene
Mony a persone ill hewit and pale,
Stark deid in thair harnes hale;
The grene gras vox of blude all rede,
And couered with wondit men and dede,
Clarus, that saw his men sa,
Great disconfort can he ta;
Amang his faes with all his micht
He plungit quhair forsyest was the fecht,
And with him of his trew men,
Of quhilk was nane na he had then
Sword or dart, faucoun or spere,
Or hand-ax that was sharpe to shere.
At thair meting inforsit the fecht;
Thair men micht here of seinȝeis, I hecht,
And mony ane knicht to erd borne,
That thair lyues had forlorne,
And folk fleand here and thare.

383

Thay of Effesoun rushit ware;
Clarus and his than rushit sua
That to thare dykes he gart thame ga.
That battell had all vtterly
Bene discomfist velanusly
That thare had bene no recouering,
Na war Cassamus with great strakes geuing,
He confort thare his menȝe,
And shewit thare his bounte
Sa perfytely, withouttin wene,
That thare is nane that had him sene
And knew quhat he had wrocht that day,
Than he bird lufe him for euer and ay.
Into the planes of Ephesoun,
Quhair thay arrestit thame of the toun,
Ferlyfull and fell was the fecht,
With straikes of thair brandis bricht.
Cassamus his men hes sene
Leuand the place; than was he tene,
And sa fulfilled of shame eik,
That he countit nocht his lyfe ane leik.
The gyssarne in his hand he tais,
And plungit richt amang his faes
That thikkest war and maist of mane,
And cryit syne “Tortoun, [turn] agane,
For thay salbe discomfeist sone!”
Sic routtis he raucht forouttin hone
Till ane of Inde, that brane and blude
Out brist, and to the erd he ȝude;
Ane vther he slew or he wald rest.
Than Gaudefeir, forouttin frest,
Come with fyue thousand armit men,

384

And thare begouth the bargan than,
Sa fell ane fecht and sik stryking,
Thare men micht se sik hurkling
That baith helmes and basnettis brest,
Thay lashit on quhill thay micht lest;
Thare mony woundit war and slane.
The folke of Inde tynt the feild agane,
Thay dang thame fra thare dykes than,
Thare was of Inde slane mony man.
The battell hard and greuous was
Quhen Cassamus recouered place
And his men, that was baith crous and kene,
That to thare dykes had dungin bene.
Alexander, that all men prysis,
And dantis all that agane him rysis,
The Bauderanes men he coniured sua
That sum war fleand and fled him fra
And sum war deid and sum war tane;
Discomfit war thay euerilk ane.

[384a]

He luked and saw besyde him than
Antygorus, quhom on Salphadan
And thay that war in his leding
Had won the feild ane weill gude thing.
The nobill King than stered thidder,
And releued his men all togidder,
And sweitly prayit he thame, I wis,
To help Antigorus and his.
Thare was mony helme of steill
That with gold was circuled weill;
Mony acquentances thare was sene,
Quhyte, rede, ȝallow, blak and grene,
Mony sheild and mony fare steid,

385

And mony gude knicht douchty of deid,
That war fulfilled of vassalage.
Thare was na speich of mariage,
Na marchandyce, at speiris streking,
Bot rushit togidder all in ane ling.
Thare was sic noyes and affray
That sic beis nocht quhill domesday.
Endlang the feild outwith the toun,
The battell fers was and felloun.
Gude Alexander and sum of his

[385a]

Assailȝeit Salphadin with this,
That thay fand baith hardy and wicht,
And wonder wilfull for to fecht,
Sa vndertakand and proud in thocht
That it semed he dred thame nocht.
Thare hapned oft, quhare he was raith,
Scheildis be hewin and helmes baith,
And thyrled habersouns and visantis,
Woundit hors in sydes and flankis;
Baith erd and gers of blude vox red,
That stremand fra thare wondis ȝed.
Thare men micht heir sic noyes and cry
Quhen thay that wicht war and hardy
Rushit thare fais with stout effere,
Strykand with waponis on sindre gere,
And thay that doutand war to de
Gaif straikis sa horrible and sa he
That erd and lyft all dynted agane.
Grecianis thairof war full fane
That the renk deuoyded was,
Thare fais the flicht vpone thame tais.
Quhen Salphadyne saw his men fleand

386

And Grecians hardely fechtand,
Ȝarnand to destroy him and his,
Sic angre was at his hart, I wis,
That out of wit he went wele nere;
He streinȝeit his steid, that wele couth stere,
And plunged in amang his fais,
And in armes great melle mais,
Sic slauchter and sic ferly fare,
That the best abased ware.
In the renk quhare Salphadyne
Raid and maid sic disciplyne
For to rely his folk that fled,
That he baith blude and harnes sched,
Was Alexander the douchty King,
That for na dreid had abasing,
Armit weill and richely;
Beheld him that sa velanusly
Defoulit and slew his nobill men.
His gude steid steirit he to him then,
And Salphadyne to him raid;
Togidder thay come but langer baid,
Sic routtis thay raucht on helmes bricht,
Sa laid thay on with all thare micht,
That the best and maist of renoun
Was oft tymes feld on his arsoun.
The King lyfted his bludy brand,
Quhare-with he had slane in sindre land
Ane hundreth and fiftie Kingis nere
Sen first he was maid [first] bachlere,
And sa hard on helmes he duschit
Throw fyne force thame all to-fruschit.
The visage that was fare and fyne,

387

He claif it euin doun to the chyn,
With-drew his dynt; and he, stane-dede,
Fell of his hors into that stede!
Alssone as Salphadyne can fall,
His men the feild deuoyded all.
Fleand thay went, ȝoung and auld;
Grecians thame followit mony-fauld,
And couered the feild with felled men,
And chaissand thay persewit then
That Caleos, the fare and wicht,
Ane of Clarus sonnes, I hecht,
Met with Dauclene and Tholomere,
Of thare men mony defoulit were,
For thay saw thame tyred and wery
And for fechting all bludy;
Sum war dede and sum war woundit sare.
The chais than left thay richt thare,
And thidder went tha men of mane;
And, quha forsuith suld the richt sane
The fecht was than sa fers and fell
The noyes and cry micht na man tell.

[387a]

Deir God, how Alexander sa douchtely
Mantemit him! sa hardely!
And how Arreste and Caulus
Mantemit thame, and Emynedus!
Quhare that he trowit to Porrus
And Porrus can agane him ga,
Thare micht men se, I vnderta,
Strakes strykken with mekill ill will.
Togidder thay brocht mony ribell
Quhill brokin war helmes and blasounis
And craked war mony Crounis,

388

Emynedus auancit him thare,
With baith his armes great and square
Hynt Porrus be the hals, I hecht,
And wald haue felled him in the fecht;
And Porrus held him sturdely,
That styth and sture was and hardy,
That Emynedus on na kin wyse
Mycht fulfill thare his enterpryse.

Qvhen the gude Emynedus
Persauit the great strenth of Porrus,
Wit ȝe weill he was vnblyth!
The gude suerd suappit he out suyth,
And with full dynt he dushit doune;
Bot Porrus kest vp his blasoun
And he it claif euin in tua,
That the tane half to the erd can ga.
Thare mycht na helm the straik with-stand,
Sa that the scheiring of the brand
Hit in to the nakit syde.
The blude ran doun on athir syde,
The wound was lytill and bot ane ruffell,
Bot the flap was sa fers and fell,
And strykin with sa vndemous mycht,
That Porrus baith hering tynt and sicht
And all to glos was ilka deill.
Emynedus saw his mischeif weill,
And schot him [till], as out of wit,
And with sik force he to him tit,
In sik poynt as he was than,
To erd he rushit that nobill man;
And syne tuke Ferrand that he had tynt,

389

And lap on suyth but langer stynt,
Porrus rais madly as he mycht;
The great strake sa had him dycht
That he na wist quhether it was nicht or day.
Bot quhen his vertew come, perfay,
He lap on Sorall, that was still.
Thare had thay preuit of fecht thair fill,
Na war the battellis thay lede
Rushit togidder in that stede,
The ladeis, that war fare and shene,
Hes fra the walles persauit and sene.

[_]

Lines 7068–73 of the French original are missing from the translation.

“How fortune hes mentemit him thare,
Agane the best that euer birny bare,
That lang ere made him gude cheir,
And halsit him now on that maneir
That he passit all men of valour!”

[389a]

Fesonas with the freshe colour,
Sa was sho based, dum and still,
That sho said nouther gude nor ill.
Idorus said, “dame, all thing gais
As God demis, purueyis and mais!”
Quhair that the renkis togidder raid,
The dyn of dyntes great rushing maid
For that Porrus vnhorsit was.
Thare micht men se into that place
Mony ane worthy man and wicht
That to win loif and pryse, I hecht,
Rushit amang the greatest thrang,
Quhair the dochty great dintes dang.
On thare left hand begouth the fecht,
Quhare Alexander the King of micht,
And of his men ane great party,

390

Asseaged Caleos the douchty.
Ane sair marcat thare was sene,
Of coit-armouris bricht and shene
Reuin and rent and euill dicht,
Basnettis brokin and brandis bricht,
Knyues and suordis brak assounder,
Sum abufe and sum be-vnder,
That of rede blude wer bludy all.
Alexander, the styth in stall,
Was wraith and sorroufull for his men,
That thay of Inde defoulit then.
To Caleos lansit he lychtly,
And Caleos met him hardely.
At thare meting na sparing was;
Of tha tua into that plais
Sa fell and cruell was the fecht
That in short tyme thair brandis bricht
War bludy, and thair habersounis als,
And thay woundit in shoulders and hals.
Thare visage bathit in blude and sueit;
Sua faucht thay baith into sic heit.
The King bradit out his brand sa bricht
And hit Caleos with all his micht,
That helme and heid he claif in tua
And to the erd he gart him ga;
His men fled all quhen he was slane.
The King forbad his men ilkane
That nane sould chais quhill men sould se
The feild better discumfit be.
The cry was great and fell the fecht
Quhare Caleos was slane, that was wicht.
Alexander stert fra thame to assailȝe

391

Caneus and his great battailȝe,
To help Lycanor and Lyoun,
Quhais battell was new dungin doun,
And sa distreinȝeit with force in fecht
That the hardyest and maist wicht
Had na mynd of menstrally,
Bot dred to de thair halely.
And Caneus his suord hes hynt,
Quhome euer he hit, the lyfe he tynt;
For his gude deuour and bounte
His battell sa recomfort he
That thay dred na thing the deid.
The tother hoste fra steid to steid
Thay rowned togidder in preuate;
And said thay wald discomfit be.
Thus wend thay, bot thay trowit wrang,
For or the Sone to resting gang,
Thay sall se that prophecy

[391a]

Turne vther-wayes all halely!
Then Alexander Caneus socht,
And sa rude ane rout him rocht
That na sheild helping micht ma,
Bot he his hede claif euin in tua.
And than incontinent he fell dede.
His men fled all fra stede to stede,
Sary and wraith, to de thay dred,
To Clarus hoste all hale thay fled.
Thare men micht se the stour begin,
The enfors, the noyes and the din,
Sa mony hede suappit fra the suyre,
And sa mony ane fair attyre
Wox red with blude of knichtis kene

392

That neuer sen that day was sene.
Cassamus, that had in mening
The anoy, the greif, the barganing,
That auld Clarus had gart thame feill,
He gripped the great gyssarne of steill
And come als nere him as he mocht;
And raucht Clarus ane rout, I hecht,
Sa heauy that his helme to-frushit,
Blude and harnis baith out rushit;
Sa sone he deit, he sichit not anes,
Baith lyfe and land he lost attanes.
Than Cassamus said, as in reprufe,
“Thow wald haue had to thy behufe
My nece halely agane hir will!
Now mon thow thole, all lyke the ill,
That another by hir ly
And bruke hir blis and hir droury!”

Qvhen that Clarus was brocht to end,
That for his micht and power wend
To vincus Alexander and his,
Was amang thame of Inde, I wis,
Sic great disconfort and sic care
That better and wors fled heir and thare.
Thare was sic that his fallowis drew,
And said, “fle we! thare fleis anew!
Sen that our lord is slane and deid,
That held all gude men ay at feid,
And of trechouris and of lossingeris
He maid his preue counsalers,
And now thay fle als wele as we,
That he vplyfted throw maieste,
And reft our gude agane our will,

393

Bot now he is brocht thairtill,
That he na ȝarnes siluer na gold fyne,
He hes na mister of medecyne!
We sould not greit, bot lauch full loud,
For men sould scarce men, hard and proud
And couetous, alwayes despyse,
And helpe thare harme on alkin wyse!”
To Marciane than hes men tald
The dede of King Clarus the ald;
Than he begouth to cry and rare,
Makand sic dule that ferly ware,
His neiffis for dule togidder he dang,
And all his body wraith and wrang,
He said, murnand with heauy cheir,
Thir wordes that I sall say ȝow heir:

[393a]

“Eme,” said Marciane, “stout and bald,
That in great stour and battell wald
Alwayes with the formest be!
Pride, inuy and skarsite,
Couatyce, reif and succudry,
And that gudemen and worthy.
And than defoulit and vntrew ay,
Hes brocht the now to thyne ending day!
A! thow that lufit theuis and murderers
And hated all trew bachlers,
Now helpis the nocht thy great ȝarning
Of landis, rentis and vther thing
That thow was wont to reif and ta
Fra wedowes and fatherles barnes alsa,
Bot now the dede that spared nane
Hes the in his handis tane!”
Quhen thus was said, he lukit him by

394

And saw thirlit sheildis and dede men ly,
Quhare mony ane mychty mirth sall mis;
He left his dule, for nede was his.

Vnder Effesoun, endlang the grene,
The battell cruell was and kene.
Richt hardely with speiris bricht
Thay laid on vther with all thare micht,
Perdicas, Betys and thare rout;
Quhare euer thay ga the fecht was stout.
The duke Betys, to win honour,
Abandoned him sa in that stour

[394a]

That [all] his power thocht ferly;
“Tortoun!” full oft-syce can he cry,
“Vpon his, lordis! I may nocht last,
For thare defence approchis fast.”
Than straik he ane vpone sic wyse,
His helme micht mak na warrandyse,
Bot he fell stane-deid of that dynt;
By the mane than hes he hynt
The steid, and lap on sturdely.
Perdicas, that was nere him by,
Smait ane vther in middes the face,
That stane-deid to the eard he gais;
And he lap on the steid, I hecht,
That wele arrayit was and dicht.
Alssone as Betys horsit was,
And his fallow Perdicas,
Thare rout thame followit hardely,
Armit at all pointis fetasly.
With armes straucht to stryke allane,
Thay past our deid and slane;
Into the thrang thay rushit then.

395

Into the middes of Marcianes men.
The futemen tuke thair presoneris
And mony ane steid that stythly steiris,
Sa that of thare rout thair was nane
Bot thay war horsit euerilk ane.
Of that ferly dame Fesonas
Leuch, and said to Ideas,
“Sister, be all our goddis deir,
I haue sene sik ane thing here
That I sall neuer sic ane vther se,
Quhill domisday thocht I lestand micht be!”

[395a]

Of the derenȝe of thame, I hecht,
That had avowit on fute to fecht
And now ar horsit richely,
Amang thare faes begouth the cry.
Amang the Persians thay smait but let;
Bot the hardy, that ire had het,
With speiris and suordis ressauit thame weill;
The cowartis fled euery deill.
Thare begouth the noyes and cry,
And the slauchter, sa cruelly
That sic ane vther was neuer wrocht
Sen first that God Adame wrocht.
This was na turnament, parde,
Bot battell of great cruelte,
That the chaissaris had radnes thare,
The flears all disparit ware.
Bot, quha sa euer left the fecht,
Marciane left it nocht, I hecht!

In the thikkest of the preis
Douchty Porrus abydand was,
That leuer had die than be sa shamed

396

That ony euill had his hart sa tamit.
Quhen that he saw the standart stale,
The folk of Inde nere fleand hale,
He thocht than how he had hecht
To vincus the battell throw his micht,
Gif God him sauit in that bargane
Fra dede, mischeif and fra lame.
He menit his father, for men him tald
How Cassamus de Laris the ald
Slew him in middes his menȝe,
And he considered the bricht bewte,
The fare vpcast, the sueit blenking,
The fare wordis and lufsum lauching
Of Fesonas, to quhome he gaue
His hart to keip attour the laue.
His blude all mengit, he changed hew,
His hart into his body grew;
Than to him-selfe he said allane,
That him had leuer be dede or slane
Than his avow into that stour
War nocht encheifit with honour.
With that he suappit out his suerd,
And sterit his steid with sic ane rerd,
And in the renk full hardely
He rushit, and sa wilfully
That the assemble all to-schoke
And the renkis all to-quoke.
Sum of his freindis (that) with him ware,
Ruschand and dingand with suordis bare,
Inflammit all of wraith and Ire.
Thare men micht se the fecht fell as fyre,
Mony scheildis reuin with strakes great,

397

Helmys with handis all to-bet;
Mony habirgeoun thirlit was,
Quhare hedis and handis fra bodys gais;
Sa mony speris thare brist in schounder,
And sa mony suordis that was wounder;
And sa mony ane riche garment
Thare was defoulit, reuin and rent
That thare is nane that had it sene
Than he affrayit wald haue bene.

Porrvs grippit his suord of steill,
That was richt schairp and scheirand weill;
He rushit in the preis but let,
And straik the first man that he met,
That the harnes claif euin in tua;
Ane vthir hede to the erd couth ga,
The thrid he slew, and als the ferd;
And to Emynedus with his suord
He raucht ane rout with sik randoun
That he to-frushit all the blasoun.
The helme held, that was sicker and gude,
The suerd sklentit and forby ȝude
Glasane doun richt by his face,
And sa neir by his schoulder it gais
It brist the glewen all in sondir,
And the haubrek that was thare-vndir,
And schair the flesche richt to the bane.
The blude ran out weill gude wane,
The sadill vox red to the dynt,
Emynedus stakerit and stynt;
And Porrus, with his armyt neif,
In myddis the breist sik ane box him gaif
That he fell doun, and, Magre his,

398

Porrus hes tane Ferrand, I wis,
And on him lap delyuerly;
His men him followit hardely.
Thay of Grece agane thame ȝeid,
That wald nocht leif in sic ane neid
Emynedus, the douchty duke.
Quhare the assembleis togidder schuke,
The play vox wery, for mony man,
But lauching, losit thare lyues than.
All wate I nocht quhat ilkane was,
Na quhat thay wrocht into that plas
Quhare the duke Emynedus
Was vnhorsit throw Porrus.

[398a]

Cheualrous, wicht and hardy
War thay of Alexanders party;
Of dusches and dyntes thare was sic dale
(Thocht thay war nocht all peregale)
That men micht nocht the murmure here.
The vigorous, stout and hardy chere
Was thare weill knawin into that fecht.
Emynedus horsit was, I hecht,
Vpone ane stede als quhyte as bane;
His armes bludy war ilkane.
He gripped his sword as man of mane,
And prikked to the preis agane;
Als hard as hors micht rin in rais,
He preked in the thikkest preis.
In that poynt Emynedus
Throw help of his was horsit thus,
Porrus faucht with fors sa fast
That throw the battell he was past.
Besyde him than persauit he

399

Alexander and his menȝe,
That discomfit had Caneus
And come to helpe Emynedus
Als ardently as he best mocht;
And als with him, quha had socht,
Mony ane Worthy man and wicht,
And mony ane haubrek fare and bricht,
And mony ane plate and mony ane sheild,
And mony ane helme, quha weill beheld,
And mony riche acquatyse,
And mony samit on sindre wyse.
That battell knew he sone on ane;
Menand the skaith that he had tane,
He said loud, that thay micht here,
“Ȝonder is Alexander de Lere,
Throw quhome my father tynt I haue,
My brether, and nerhand all the laue!
Na die I neuer quhill I the King
Slay, or throw the body thring!
Be all the goddis that I in trow,
Sen thusgait me is hapned now,
I sall set all to all haly,
Doand furth my deuory!
Dame Fesonas, the fare to feill,
That me hes lykit to se sa weill,
Sall neuer here na man say
That I haue borne me heir to-day
As ane cowart into this fecht!”
With that, he stered the steid of mycht;
With armes straucht out, he cryit his senȝe,
His men him followit, that wald nocht fenȝe.
To Alexanders battell Porrus shupe;

400

The first man that he our-tuke
Was the douchty Floridas.
He straik quhill scheild to-frushit was,
And brist the habirgoun of steill,
And hurt him in the arme sum deill;
The blude doun on the sadill ran.
He rushit him with sik wertew than
That to the erd he fell but hone;
Bot he was succourit and horsit sone.
Porrus rushit amang the laiff,
And amang thame sik routis gaiff,
Strykand on ilk syde with his brand,
That to the King he come fechtand.
Thare hes he doungin doun mony man;
The gude King sterit to him than.
Quhen Alexander the strenth hes sene
Of Porrus, that his men bedene
Woundit, menȝeit, beft and slew,
The steid he sterit and to him drew;
And, with his brand in hand all bare,
In myddis the prece he met him thare.
Porrus, that had his suord on hicht,
Him raucht a rout (with) in randoun richt
That of the helme the cirkill he claue,
And the scheild in schunderis raif;
By the arsoun the suord doun ȝeid
And smait the hede of the steid;
The King fell wyd opin in the grene.
His battale than men mycht haue sene
Sary and wraith, abaisit and mad,
And Porrus battall blyth and glaid.
That straik confortit his menȝe sa

401

That sum that ere tuke the bak to ga
Cryit than, “furth! the tyme is nere
That thir folk salbe discumfit here
And the citte of Effesoun
Sall to the erd be dungin doun,
And the folk that was thare-in,
Outher brint or hangit be the chin!
Porrus sall haue dame Fesonas,
That is sa fare of fax and face!
Schent worth he that Porrus will faill
Quhill discomfit be the great battaill!”
Quhen thay of Inde the King hes sene
Throw his worship ly on the grene,
Commonly begouth thay than
To blis Porrus, that nobill man,
That micht reif fra Emynedoun
His gude steid tuyse in a randoun.
Sa fast he comfort them than
That his ensinȝe cryit ilk man,
Sa that mony that fleand war
Cum agane to thame that fechtand ar,
To succour Alexander the King.
Men micht here trumpettis and taburing,
And stryking with suordis bare,
And axes and knyues that sharpely share,
That styntit on the staluart steill.
Haubrekis and gorgettis, wit ȝe weill,
War all to-hewin, and knichtis thare
Vnder hors feit defoulit ware;
Rede blude ran out of woundis raith,
That bludeit erd and stanes baith.
The gude Porrus, that to assaill

402

Vther he met in the battell
Had left Alexander the nobill King,
Ȝarnand to fulfill his avowing—
Quha had him sene into that thrang,
Throw out the thik preis cum and gang,
Sailȝeand the hardyest and the best,
Scheildis to-frusch foroutin rest,
The outraious smartnes that he had
Gart armit men quaik and be rad
In the first end of the battale,
Quhare sum fled and thare hors can faill—
Forout lesing to say schortly,
Gif he avowit hes foly,
Thocht sum men say his vndertaking
May nocht fulfillit be in all thing,
At the last for the best doere
Men suld him hald baith far and neir,
For sen that God first Adame wrocht,
In all this warld ane knycht was nocht
That anerly at ane Iourne
Aucht sa auansit for to be.
Suith it is gude Hector was wicht
And out of mesure mekill of mycht,
For, as the poyet beris witnessing,
Quhen Menelayus the mychty King
Assegit in Troy the King Priant
For Elene, that was sa plesant,
That Parys forrow that semble
Reuisit for hir fyne beaute,
Hector on him the gouerning
Tuke of the toun, and the leding.
Into the half thrid ȝeir all anerly

403

That he loued throw cheualry,
Of crouned Kingis he slew nynetene
But dukes and erlis, as I wene,
That was sa fell it is ferly;
Syne Achilles slew him tressonabilly.
Gude Alexander, that sa large was,
That wan Daurus and Nicholas
And slew in Inde the great vermyne,
(Babylon he conquered syne,
Quhare he deit throw poysoning),
Rang seuin ȝeir as nobill King,
Wan all this warld vnder the firmament;
Than on ane day, in plane parliament
He said he had in all-kin thing
Our lytill land to his leding!
Cesar alsua, that Ingland wan,
All that was callit Bertane than,
To thame of Rome maid vnder-lout
Cassabylon, the King sa stout.
In Grece alsua discumfit he
Pompeyus, his mauch, ik sic plenty
Of men that neuer ȝit quhare
War sene sa mony as thay ware;
Syne Alexander, the great Citte,
Affrik and Asia als, wan he,
Egypt alsua and Syrie
And mony vther fare countre,
And the yles of the sey all hale,
That war sa mony withouttin fale.
Thir war Paganes that I of tald,
And I dar suere, and for suith hald,
That better than thay war neuer borne,

404

Efter that tyme na ȝit beforne.

Of thir thre Iowes we find it writ,
The auld Testament witnesis it,
Thay did sa mekle that commonly
All men thame lufis generally,
And, as I trow, sall lufe thame ay,
Euermare quhill domisday.
Iosua suld first named be,
That was ane man of great pouste.
The flum Iordane partit he euin in tua
Throw his wisdome and prayers alsua,
And stude on ilk syde as ane wall
Quhill his men our passed all.
Towart the south he waryed lang,
Quhare tuelfe Kingis wan he, styth and strang,
And destroyit thame velanusly,
And reft thame thare landis halely;
Thay turned to his commandement,
And to him war thay obedient.
Dauid slew Golyath with strenth,
That seuin halfe ellis had of lenth,
And mony ane fell pagan he brocht,
Maugre thairis, all to nocht,
And was ouer all sa wele doand
That he was neuer recryand,
Bot in battell stout and hardy.
Men may say of him tantingly [OMITTED]
Iudas Machabeus, I hecht,
Was of sik vertew and sik micht
That, thoch thay all that lyfe micht lede
Come shorand him as for the dede,

405

Armit all for cruell battale,
He wald not fle, forouttin faill,
Quhill he with him of alkin men
Micht be ay ane aganes ten.
That Iudas that I heir of tell
Slew Antiochus the fell,
And Appollonius alsua,
Nicanor als and mony ma.
Of thir thre christin men I can tell heir
That neuer na better in warld weir.
Arthur, that held Britane the grant,
Slew Rostrik, that stark gyant,
That was sa stark and stout in deid
That of Kingis beirdis he maid ane weid,
The quhilk Kingis alluterly
War obeysant to his will all halely;
He wald haue had Arthouris beird,
And failȝeit, for he it richt weill weird.
On mount Michaell slew he ane,
That sik ane freik was neuer nane,
And ma gyantis in vther places sua,
Bot gif the story gabbing ma.
Charles of France slew Agoment,
And wan Spane to his commandement,
And slew the duke of Pauy,
And wan the Saxones halely,
Throw great battell and hard fechting,
That thay war all at his bidding;
And quhair God deit for our sauetie,
He put the haill christintie.
Men aucht to lufe him commonly
Baith in peirt and priuaty!

406

Godefray the Bullony throw cheualry
Into the plane of Romany
Wincust the michty Salamant,
And, before Anthioche, Corborant,
Quhen the King Sardanus was slane;
Than was he King, him-self allane,
Of Ierusalem syne ane ȝeir and mare.
Thir ar the nyne best that armes bare,
I haue deuysit ȝow ordourly,
That leuit weill and cheualrusly;
Bot neuer thair lyfetyme on ane day
Tholit thay sik pyne and sik affray
As Porrus, that sa haltanly
Avowit had throw cheualry,
Amang the ladeis that war fre,
Quhen the poun to deid brocht he.

Thvsgatis Porrus, as I haue tald,
That styth and stout was, stark and bald,
Was fechtand in that staluart stour,
Quhare mony men war of valour;
And thare he hewit, dang and smait.
All that he met into his gait
War dichtand for him ilka deill,
Sua suappit he with suerd of steill.
His men war alsua in trauell
To sla the King; fast thay did assale,
Sa that thay that maist restit war
Wer bathit in sueit baith heir and thare;
Bot the nobill renonit King,
That weill with suerd couth suap and suyng,
He leit nane of thame neich him neir,
Bot with the brand bricht and cleir

407

He straik and hewit on ilk syde,
And raucht about him routis ryde;
His defendours about him war,
Strykand richt fast with wapnis bare.
Sa hard the steill on helmys styntis
That fyre and low flew fra thare dyntis.
At sic mischeif war erlis and knychtis,
That for thare lordis faucht with all thare michtis.
Trumpetis, hornis and tauburn
Soundit hie with mare ydurn,
And mare horribill out alway,
Than thay did ony tyme all day.
The gentill-hertit gude fechters,
To quhom that nakin radnes deres,
Haistaly hidderwart thay socht
(For na radour sparit thay nocht)
Quhare thay haue sene the horribell stour
Of Alexander the empriour,
Sum to help and sum to sla.
Was na battale, I vnder-ta,
In all the feild nouthir heir nor thare
Na thai sone assemblit wair.
It was neir-hand none of the day;
For Alexander pressit thay,
That with leill hart lufit, and trew,
Hidderwart to his banare drew,
Quhare he on fute was in the thrang
And routis royd about him dang.
To him thare come Antigorus,
Tholomere, Dauclene and Caulus,
Betys alsua and Perdicas;
And Marcian, that worthy was,

408

For to help Porrus thidder ran,
And with him mony a mychty man.
Thare was sa mony a fare baneir,
Sa mony schynand scheild and speir,
And sa mony helmys on hede,
And sa mony gude knychtis deid,
That, sen that Cayan slew Abell,
Was neuer battall sene sa fell.
The feild [was] couerit with blude and brane
And [thay] that faucht with moid and mane,
That woundit war, gaif cryis and granis,
Trumpits and hornis blew at anis.
Porrus had na mening than
Of freindis, na father, na vthir man,
Bot set in intent baith strenth and mycht,
With all his thocht and all his slicht,
Body and hart, curage and will,
His outraieous vow for to fulfill.
Throw the thikkest of rankis he raid
Porrus, that sa great martirdome maid
That mony great man to ground is gane,
For of fechting he was neuer fane;
With suerd and . . . and arme all hale
Amang thame maid he sik a dale,
Sum he woundit and sum he slew,
And sum doun to the erd he drew;
Sic ferlyis wrocht he him alane
That, sen the tyme that Troy was tane,
Was neuer nane sene of sik couyne,
Sa fare, sa worthy, na sa fyne,
Out throw the Grecians, thocht thay had suorne,
He raid richt to ane hathorne

409

Neir the kirnalis, quhare Fesonas
Said to hir fallow Ideas,
“Dam, be the treuth that I trow in,
And be our Goddis mare and myn,
Ane better than he that rydis thare
Mycht neuer be, na sall neuer mair
Play with lady vnder courtyne!
Suld nane him call knycht of kytchyne!
Seis thow nocht gude Ferand, the stede
That he, throw douchtynes of deid,
Hes reft tuys fra Emynedoun,
And Alexander, for all his croun,
Wnto the erd gart ly flat braid,
And sic martyr on thame hes maid
That mony ane madin but held salbe?”
“Fare he thus lang, my hart,” sais she,
“The outrageous hardement that he hecht,
To discumfit throw force in fecht
This mekill battell that we se,
Sall in schort tyme escheuit be!”

The quhyle that Dam Fesonas
Sic speke of douchty Porrus mais,
He plungit in the thikkest pres,
Quhare sa vndemous sorrow wes.
Porrus met first with Lycanore,
And smait him, in the front before,
Sa roud ane rout that helme of steill
He gart to-frushe euer ilk deill.
He had bene deid, na war the brand
Turnit ane lytill in his hand,
Quhilk sauit him that he was nocht slane,
Bot nocht-for-thy with sik mane

410

He raucht that vndemus dynt
That baith his sterapis hes he tynt,
And gruflingis to the eard he glaid.
Porrus on hors attour him raid,
And strakes of strenth vpon the laue;
That he ourtuke, all doun he draue.
On fute ȝit was the nobill King,
Bot Tholomeir can to him thring,
With ane stede arrayit rychely;
And he lap on delyuerly,
And towart Porrus can he ga.
Quhen Marciane saw him horsit sa,
To him leit he his men.
Alexander and his battell then
Sterit to thame richt eirnistly;
Porrus and his men hardely
In middes the visage met thame thare,
The mischeif vox ay mare and mare:
Quha preis befoir thair fallowis wald,
For cowartis sould na man thame hald;
Thay hewit on helmes with brandis bricht,
And speirs throw staluart strakes tycht;
Thare fell full mony that rais nocht sin;
The feild that thay war fechtand in
Of rede blude was bludy than,
That heir and thare in stremis ran.
Porrus, that menit on his skaith
And on his avow bethocht him raith,
Said to his men, “it salbe sene
Quha knicht is, in this battell kene!
Cassamus hes my father slane;
I wate he may nocht leif agane.

411

God gif all that helpis me
To his slauchter, vengit be!”
With that, he bradit out his brand
And smait ane Grecian, I tak on hand,
Quhill shulder and arme flew him fra,
And he doun to the erd can ga.
Porrus dushit, with that, fer by
Amang the laif richt sturdely
That it semit tempest fers and fell.
Lordingis, quhat sall I to ȝow tell?
All dang he doun that he ourtuke;
Quhare he past, the renkis shuke,
To say the suith, sa mony he fellit
That nane is leuand that may tell it.
He socht Cassamus quhill he him fand,
Outwith the battell him restand.

Porrvs was glaid quhen he had sene
Auld Cassamus, for in that tene
He thocht to tak in that steid
Ane reuenge of his fatheris deid.
He said, “cairll with thy syde beird,
Throw quhom our folke ar all affeird,
That ane part fleis, ane vther part slane,
The thrid in perrell or in pane,
Thow leuis nocht lang, wit thow weill!
This sword, that sherand is of steill,
Sall in thy body bathit be!”
Said Cassamus, “(sa mot I the!)
Thy mannace dreid I nocht ane dait.
Do furth thy best, for weill I wait
That of that craft sum deill I can!
For I it leirit sen I was man,

412

Quhairthrow the war end salbe thyne!”
Efter this speich, but mair carpyne,
Togidder thay rushit sa velanusly,
And dang on vther sa egerly,
That with-in ane lytill space
The feild with mailȝeis strowit was.
Scheildis war hewin and helmes bare,
And, with thair swordis that sharply share,
Thay shure the fleshe out quhill it bled.
The heit withall sa hard thame led
That, or ony of tha tua
Had anes time thair end to ta,
Thair lynning claithis with blude and sueit,
Wit ȝe weill, war all maid weit,
That quha sa had flungin thame in to Sane;
Thus war thay baith in mekill pane.

Efter thir tua I tell of heir,
That war togidder peir and peir,
The battell was full cruell,
Hard, hiddeous, forsy and fell.
Weill far fra thame ane stane-cast neir,
Was Marciane and his baneir,
Alexander and his xii douzepeirs,
That in the stour thame stythlie steirs.
Thare men micht felloun fechting se
And knichtis bla of blude and ble,
And blude brist out of woundis wyde;
Thay cryit thair ensenȝeis on ilk syde,
The woundit gaue cryis and granes,
Trumpettis and hornis blew atanes,
It semit all the countre quoke.
Bot, quha-sa heir thairto wald luke,

413

It lykit nathing to Porrus
Na to his fallow Cassamus,
For smertly ilkane vther seruit
With strakes that thare armour keruit.
Porrus heued his brand on he,
And smait Cassamus quhill he micht dre;
With sic vertew that straik he gaue
That hart and body and all the laue
He put togidder, that helme of steill
Na basnet helpit neuer a deill,
And with the suord, richt to the chin
Baith helme and hede he claue in tuin;
He rushit doun of blude all rede.
Quhen Porrus sawe that he was dede,
Forouttin dout he was full blyth,
And ane thing he said him suyth:
“Here mon thow duell, thow hare auld gray,
And keip this land quhill domisday!
Althocht thow hes my father slane,
And thow thairfore hes tholed sic pane,
I the forgeue for euermare,
Thow sall be blamed neuer are
To ioys lufe of lady fre,
Na lede maydin maryit to be!”

Efter this speich, but langer baid
In the thikkest renk he raid;
Thare micht men se him suap on hicht
His byrnist brand, that was sa bricht.
Thare dang he doun schir Tholomere
Sa dyffie that he deit nere;
Syne gaif he Betys sic ane dynt;
Bot the helme the straik can stynt,

414

Ȝit hors and he ȝeid doun bedene.
The folk of Grece men micht haue sene
Gangand bak toward the toun,
Quhare Fesonas with the fare fassoun
Micht se thare dedes ilka deill;
It bird lyke hir ane party weill
To se hir lemmen that sho lufit,
In sic ane stour sa weill be prufit.
Than thay of Inde hes rasit the scry,
That thay war woxin sa hardy
That nane dedenȝeit to be rad.
The great vertew that Porrus had
Confortit thame sa fellonly
That all the cowartis commonly
Wald throw sembland formest be;
Sa hapned thay in his pouste.
Thay of Grece hes left the feild,
And ill affrayit, quha weill beheld;
And Porrus followit with arme straucht,
And Marciane, that was mekill of maucht.
The folk of Inde sa weill thame bare,
And sa worthy in were thay ware,
That, mekill and lyttill, to the citte
Thay rushit the King and his menȝe.
Thare men micht here sum cry, sum rare,
And sum mannance and sum mare,
And men woundit with wapones sere,
Quhare mony ane knycht was brocht on bere.

The battell hard and hiddeous was,
Quhare thay of Grece deuoyded the plas.
For to restore schir Tholomere
Come Cliton, for thay fallowes were,

415

And to Betys come Predicas;
Throw thame and tharis sik bargane was
That horsit war thay knychtis baith,
Albeit thay of Ynd war wraith.
Bot tharefore ceisit nocht the dyn;
Ilkane dang vthir that to mycht wyn.
In the planis vnder Effezoun,
Quhare mony ane wicht and hardy barroun
Dang on vthir with wapnis seir,
Eftir none rais sic dyn and beir
That tua myle than it mycht be hard.
Quha had sene how Porrus ferd,
Deir God! how he abandonit ware,
His bodye, his armis, with brand all bare!
It was na neid to bid him strike;
He sparit nothir pouer nor rike,
That thare is nane that thare had bene
And had his mekill worship sene,
Na thay wald say that he suld be
Ane King of mekill ryalte.

[415a]

As Porrus prikked throw the stour,
Fechtand as man of great valour,
Sum dingand and sum woundand,
And helmes of hedes arrysand,
Scheildis rugand fra shulders raith,
Dingand doun knychtis and steids baith,
Thare is na leuand man on leid
That in the stour had sene his deid,
His countenance and his worsheip,
How he couth baith assail and keip,
Bot he wald baith say and suere
That ane better nor he bare neuer spere!

416

And of all thame that faucht that day
On baith the halfis, I dar wele say,
But outtaking of ony man,
He was the best that thare was than.
Sa come the duke Emynedoun,
Prekand ane steid in ane randoun,
Sadillit new and gayly dicht;
Ane speir in hand he had, I hecht,
Short, sharpe and wele sherand.
Sory for he had tynt Ferrand,
He preked to Porrus, all wraith in hart,
And he him tuke at the outwart,
And Ferrand wery was and lamit,
Thocht that he not his hede had tamit;
He bare all doun, baith hors and man,
On sic maner that Porrus than
Was all to-frushit of that fall,
And beneth the kne, alsua with all
About thre finger braid or sua,
His shanke-bane brak euin in tua.
Throw this straik was his avowing
Brocht to nane vther encheuing,
And nocht-for-thy he held his hecht,
For he avowit, gif God of micht
Him saued that day fra encumring,
Fra mischeif and fra lymmes breking,
For to vincus the great battale.
Now may he nouther fend nor fale;
Thairof his euill-willeris war full glad,
And thay of Inde war full mad,
And sa discumfist that they fled,
Gaue hale thare bakis and left the sted;

417

The folk of Grece amang thame raid,
And sic ane marterdome hes maid,
Quhair all the feild was couerit haill.
Quhairto sould I mak lang my taill?
The folk of Inde war sa at vnder,
That nane abaid it was na wonder.
Sa chaissand thusgait to and fra,
Floridas can Marciane ta;
And the gude Emynedus,
Richt quhare he lay, hes tane Porrus
And offred him to the King, I hecht,
Sa mate, sa mad and sa euill dicht,
That he of him-selfe na power had
To stand vp richt, sa was he stad.

The great battell hes tane ending;
Porrus is presentit to the King,
Sa bludie, sa euill dicht and sa met,
That all his geir of blude was wet.
Alexander callit him quhen he was
Vnarmit and set in middes the place,
Veary, forbled, euill hewit and paill.
The King than to him said, “Vassaill,
Thow hes vs done to day great pane,
Defoulit our men, rushit and slane!
Throw thy worship and bountie,
I was in poynt for to die,
Defoulit and shamit for euer mare.
In euill tyme neir thy avowis ware
Maid, quhare thow this hynder day
Avowit, quhair thow in presoun lay,
To disconfit the great battale,
Quhair thow [sa] strykin hes, but fale,

418

That thow of baith halfis hes the pryse.
Now is me hapned on sik wyse
That God hes wrocht with the sa weill,
All haue I tynt of men great deill
That I may do of the my will,
To leif or die, to spare or spill.
Bot, be the Goddis that I honour,
Thow sall haue na dishonour
Na euill of na maner for me,
Bot heir I do the sik bounte,
For thy great hardiment and renoun,
That thow sall quyte gang of presoun
And haue conduct at thy deuyse.
And quhen thow in thy countre is,
Than sall thow vmbethink the
Quhether thow my freind or fa wilbe.
Or, gif it be thy will, beaushyre,
To put it melancholy away and yre,
Beleue with me; I sall the geif
Landis anew quhill thow may leif,
And to thy airis efter the;
And thow also sall mareit be,
Sa hely that thow salbe blyth,
For I knaw weill, thocht thow na kyth,
Thy hart, and quhair thow luifis perfay,
And quhy thy avow this hynder day
Ouer outtrageous vnmesurit was!
Dame Fesonas, the fair of face,
Is enchesoun of our mis-fair!
Throw hir my steidis hals lang are
War strykin in tua quyte and clene,
And I fell flatlingis on the grene!

419

Now ar we cummin to that, I wis,
That all that now forgeuin is.
Tak that fare vnto thy wyfe,
And put away all weir and stryfe.
Forȝet thy Father and thy brether baith.
Of Cassamus thocht it be skaith,
The fede salbe stanchit syne.
And the Bauderane, thy cousine,
Throw quhome this day my burnist brand
Was, maugre myne, tane of my hand,
Sall haue dame Ideas the fre;
Sa sall ȝe mare at lyking be.
Do this and myne helping haif,
Gaudefeir, Betys and all the laif
And me, gif ȝe stryfe ha,
Aganes all that on erd may ga.
Bot I will that thow be my man.
Now haue I said the that I can,
And thow may ansuer sone thairtill,
To do or leaue vndone, quhether thow will.”

Qvhen Porrus, that was sa gude,
The mekill meiknes vnderstude
Of the nobill renouned King
That had him at his lyking,
He was abasit full fellonly.
Pryde, Dispyte, Schame and Inuy,
Said in his eir that shame was great
That he sould, outher for lufe or threat,
Forȝet his fatheris deid sa sone,
Bot gang hame suyth forouttin hone
Sen he is lousit of the King.

420

And gadder his hoste but mare duelling,
And menteme weir, quha euer be wraith,
Quhill he be vengit of his skaith.
Amour vpon the tother party,
Schot speiris at him hastelly:
Sueit sembland and courtas talking,
With mony ane maner of vther thing,
And franchis is the first speir,
Quhairthrow luffaris beginnis to leir
To lufe weill and perfytely
But ony thinking of velany,
And to the quent, clene and ioly,
Of lytill ruse, wicht and hardy,
Large, courtas and ioyous,
Mery, glaid and vertuous,
And of sik abstinence alsa,
That all velany sould be put him fra.
Thir fyue vertewis him counsallis ay
To put all sucquedry away,
And do sa that [he of] the King
May haue franship and weill willing,
Tak Fesonas, the fair and bricht,
With hir Venus, throw quhais micht
Danger, radnes, shame alsua,
Ar put on bak, thocht thay war ma,
And ioyis amouris, that succouris ay
All thame that leuis in his lay.
Quhen that Porrus had thocht ane thraw
Of thir thochtis that I ȝow shaw,
Sichand, he dressit vp his wais,
And to the King of great prais
He said, “it is suith, gentill King,

421

That thow me hes at thy lyking
And may do all thy will with me;
Bot pitie sa supprysit the
That thow hes richt debonarly
Put to my chois all halely
Quhidder I will be freind or fa;
And foly war the warst to ta;
Thairfoir I say but langer rede,
How euer my father hes bene dede
And my freinds chaist and slane,
My-selfe throw force in battale tane,
Lat quick to quick and deid to deid!
Fra this day furth (sa God me reid!)
Ȝour liege man becum I sall
And hald of ȝow my landis all,
With-thy Marciane and the Bauderane
Be quyte of presoun and of pane,
And my vther freindis alsua
May quyte hame but ransoun ga.”
Than the gentill renouned King,
That courtes was attour all thing,
Ansuered, lauchand, “shir, grant mercyis!
All salbe done at ȝour deuys.”
With thir wordis, come Gaudefeir,
Betys and vii. C. weill neir,
That weill assembled to battell bricht
And men that had assailȝeit thair micht,
For thay na sheildis had, na thay war
In sheuers hurlit heir and thair;
With great sloppis and dyntis of speiris,
Thair helmes war hewin about thair earis.
Thair haubrekis into sindrie place

422

War hewin, and to-brokin was;
Thair hors into four places or fyue
War woundit neirhand out of lyue,
Thame-selfe halit in blude and sueit,
Euill hewit, pale, werie and weit;
Thay lychted befoir the empriour,
That thay had socht throw all the stour,
And, with thame, als nyne or ten
Of thair nerrest preuie men.
Thay halsit the King, and he can cry,
Lauchand on thame full lufsumly,
“Welcum mote my freindis be,
That with great pane hes helpit me!”

Alssone as Gaudefeir and Betys
War cummin befoir the King of prys
And thay had left thair halsing,
To thame carpit the nobill King;
He said, “chylder, lang is syne
Sen I send furriouris of myne
And Emynedus with seuin hunder neir,
Armit on thair best maneir,
Vnto Gaderis to the Forray,
Quhair thay sesit sone the pray.
Thay had brocht it to the hoste but let,
Na war duke Betys, that thame met
With threttie thousand men and mare.
The myscheif was full mekill thare,
For Sampsoun and Sabalore
War slane richt in the feild before,
And Pyrrus alsua thair was slane,
The laif in perrell and in pane.
I was at hame, makand gude cheir,

423

With me Dauclene and Tholomere,
Quhen Arreste me tald this taill,
Sa wery, woundit and sa paill
That his bowellis on his arsoun
Lay, in the skirt of his habersoun.
On hors he tald me all his fare,
And I richt than withouttin mare
Gart arme my men delyuerly,
And prikked to battale haistelly.
Toward thame we raid sa fast
That we ouertuke thame at the last,
And reskewit thame [that] had mister;
In short tyme thay sa coniured wer
That maugre thairis thay left the pray,
And thay that micht fle, fled away.

[423a]

Emynedus slew, at thair parting,
Ȝour father at ane burne passing.
That was great skaith, for better than he
Micht neuer of woman borne be;
That skaith, lordingis, amendit is,
As I trow, at ȝour awin deuyce.
Now pray I ȝow, gif ȝour willis be,
That in samekill ȝe honour me
That ȝe and Porrus freindship mak,
And syne Fezonas he sall tak,
And the Bauderane sall maryet be
With Ydeas that is sa fre,
And Betys Ydorus sall haue,
For vther wayis (sa God me saue!)
This peace can I nocht better ma.
Syne efter that sone will I ga
To Babilone my croune to beir.”

424

The childer ansuerit with fere affere,
“Gude King, cumand vs ȝour will,
And forsuith we sall it fulfill
At all our micht.” Than said the King,
“I thank ȝow, lordingis, in mekill thing.
Now haiffis Porrus to the paleis!
Quhill he be helit, weill I wis,
And I will soiurne amang ȝow heir.”
And with that word, Gaudefeir
Gart bring ane schyar and him lede.
The King departit from that stede,
And turnit the banare to that toune.
For thare victorie mony barone
Mycht ȝe heir sing richt Ioifully,
And myrth of sikkin menstraly.
The maidnes, that saw thame fro the wall
Come doune fra the kirnalis all,
Dansand, and caraland alsua,
Agane thame glaidship for to ma;
Thare myrth sa lang thay makit thare
Quhill in the toun thay enterit war.
The King went in the paleis then,
And to vnarme him ran his men.
Quhen vnarmyt was the King
And he was cled in rich clething,
To Venus Chalmer the way he tuke.
A God! how mony ane riche duke
Him fallowit and mony ane prince in pane.
The maidinnis ar agane him gane,
And ressauit with ferly fare.
And the King baith heir and thare
Profferrit richt of his seruice.

425

To Fesonas, the fair of face,
He ȝeid, and said, “fair maydin fre,
Ane husband haue I gottin the,
Sa hardy and sa curageous,
Sa worthy and sa vertuous,
That men ma say, and forsuith sueir,
Ane better micht neuer armes beir;
That is gude Porrus, the worthy,
That avowit sa haltandly,
And followit it till neir we ware
Defoulit and shamit for euer mare!
For, fra we met, he preuit sua
That, quhidder we war weill or wa,
He reft Emynedus his steid,
And me throw douchtynes of deid
He laid at eard in sik ane thrang
That nane micht endure it lang!
Ane lytill thing hes hurt Porrus!

[425a]

His fatheris deid, and Cassamus,
Baith thair deidis (sa mot I the!)
Behuifis forȝettin for to be!
I sall gif dame Ideas
To him that can my suord arrais
Out of my hand to-day airly;
He is the Bauderane, lord of Medy.
Of him dar I hardely say,
Ane better saw I nocht this mony day!
Idorus, Betys is thy leif,
That into mony great mischeif
Hes seruit the into battale!
Now mon thow quyte him his trauale;
To weddit wyfe he sall haue the!

426

I will neidlingis that it sa be.”
The maydinnes kneled and thankit him sone,
And said, “ȝour will, lord, salbe done!”
With that, the men hes brocht hame Porrus;
The maydinnes of the chalmer Venus
Halsit him; and he [that] hard thame weill,
Ȝeild thame thair halsing ilka deill.

The maydinnis hes done Porrus
Be brocht into chalmer Venus,
Couerit in ane coueratour;
Fesonas changit of colour.
Quhen that thay saw him sa bludy,
Ane leich thay brocht him haistely,
That was borne into mekill Ind;
He was the best that men micht find;
He saw his woundis and tentit all,
And said, “gif God will, he sall
Into seuin dayes be haill and feir.”
The King to paleis Iupiteir,
With that, is went, quhair mony ane man
Weill arrayit him kepit than.
The madinnis with Porrus left allane
To short him fra the King is gane,
And to him maid sik cumpany
As behuifis to sa worthy.
Gaudefeir and Betys his brother,
And thair men, baith ane and vther,
Cummin ȝit fra the feild war nocht.
Cassamus thairin thay socht
With sorroufull hart; full weill thay wist
That he of deid had tholit the thrist.

427

Thay socht him all day to the nicht,
And fand him with the euin licht.
Than was thair nane but thay tua;
With greting to him can thay ga.
Gaudefeir him regratit raith,
Calland him “lord” and “eme” baith;
Syne said the chylde, “he that the slew
Set angeris at my hart anew,
Bot (sa God my sytis ceis!)
Thow suld be vengit, na war the peis!”
Than to the tempill gart thay bring
His corpis, and auld Clarus the King,
Caleos and Salphadyne,
Caneus, and vther syne
That slane into the battell ware.
That nicht thay gart walk thame thare;
The laif in pittis eardit thay,
For to haue the stink away.
Thay tuke thair way syne to the toun.
Quhen thay war cummin to Effesoun,
At the fute of the mekill tour
Thay lichted, vnder ane siccamour.
Besyde the palace in the plane,
Lichted baith lord and chalmerlane,
And to ane chalmer by the hall
Thay ȝeid, and thame vnarmit all
And in feir cleithing cled thame syne.
Quhen Alexander wist of thair cummyn,
Into the palace is he gane,
Quhair of gude men thair was gude wane,
Throw quhome mony countre he wan.
The King sa thame comfortit than,

428

And sa great glaidship to thame gaif,
All war thay mirrie, knicht and knaif.
All war thay wilfull to mak gude cheir,
And gude King Alexander de Leir
Come to the brether and askit sone
Quhat thay thair but sa lang had done.
Said Gaudefeir, “for to enter
Thame that slane in the battell wer.
Forout great lordis that we fand deid,
We gart thame bring to ane steid,
Tempill Diane for to wake,
Quhill men to-morne seruice make.
Thair is of Inde auld Clarus,
And my eme alsua, Cassamus,
And of Clarus sonnes thre,
And of vther ane great menȝe.”
“That was weill done,” said the King,
“For quha menskis vther in ony thing,
Himselfe na misdois he nocht!”
With that, the water furth thay brocht,
The lordis was set, the meit was ȝare,
And all thingis at thair lyking ware.
At thair weshing spak the King,
And said to Gaudefeir the ȝing,
“I pray the for the lufe of me
That the Bauderane delyuerit be,
And Marciane, out of presoun,
As lautie will and gude ressoun,
Sen endit is the mekill weir.”
“It salbe done!” said Gaudefeir.
Than he gart fetche thame in the hall,

429

(Than he gart fetche thame in the hall)
Weill cled in pillour and in pall.
Alssone as thay the King haue sene,
Thay halsit him forouttin wene,
And changit hewis at thair halsing,
Me think sa great barganing,
Efter the weir, is endit weill!
The King then tald thame ilka deill
How he and Porrus peax can ma,
And how his leg was broking in tua,
“Bot he sall varist be sone in hy.
Becummis my men now specially!
Of me now sall ȝe hald ȝour feis,
Castellis, tounis and great citteis,
And of myne I sall ȝow geif!”
Said Marciane, “quhill that we leif,
This great bountie may nocht be quyt,
God grant that we may deserue it!”
And thay become his men richt thare;
Thus mak thay peax quhair weir was air,
Syne ȝeid thay halely to meit;
The King of Grece was vmest set,
The Bauderane syne and Ideas,
Syne Marciane and Fesonas,
Gaudefeir and his brother Betys,
And Idorus the fare of face.
On ather halfe thair men micht find
Thame intermelleit of Grece and Inde,
As brether richt gude cheir makand,
All war thay seruit, I tak on hand,
Sa weill that thay wantit nocht,
Thay sat and eit quhill thay gude thocht,

430

Thay sat sa lang quhill it was nicht,
Than seruantis can grit torchis licht;
All at thair weshing claithis drew,
Than menstrallis changit thame notes new;
All maid gude cheir that thair was.
The gude King rais, that wan Damas,
To Fesonas said he priualy,
“Dame, be ȝour Goddis halely,
I sall soiurne heir sa lang
Quhill that Porrus may ryde and gang
Than may we all at laser ma
The mariage, and the feist alsua;
And, be the honour that I leif in,
I sall ȝow gif samekill of mine
That baith ȝour hartes reioysit salbe!”
“Lord, God forȝeild ȝow!” said the fre,
“And quyte ȝow, for I na may.”
And with that word, departit thay
And ȝeid to bed to sleip that nicht,
And rest quhill morne that day was licht.
Vpon the morne quhen it was day,
All rais thay that in the palace lay,
Gaudefeir and Betys alsua,
And the maydinnis with vther ma;
Thay halsit the King with full gude speid,
Out of the palace syne thay ȝeid.
On hors thay went euer ilkane,
And past than to tempill Diane,
Lichtit and beheld thame that war deid,
That folk had walkit it in that steid.
Bot thay knew nocht the King Clarus,

431

Na his thre sonnes, bot Cassamus
Thay knew richt weill; than war thay wa
It was na ferly thocht thay war sa!
And quhen the duke Emynedus,
Saw forrow him ly slane Cassamus,
He said, makand euill cheir,
“Quhat sall word of vs, Drychtin deir?
Quha sall vs now gif counsall,
Or quha sall help vs in battall!
Now is heir, with worship, deid
Bounte, largenes and manhede,
And all gude sikkerly alsua!”
Quhen his fallowis hard him sic dule ma,
Thay menit him full tenderly,
And said amang thame communly
That neuer mare salbe
Ane man fulfilled of sik bounte.
Of all the maidinnis, Fesonas
Into hir hart great anger has,
That said, sichand, “I can na rede
Bot die, fare eme, sen ȝe ar dede!”
Bot the King hir confortis fast,
And to his barrounis at the last
He said, and to the maydinnis fre,
“I pray ȝow do samekill for me
That ȝe mak gude cheir, euerilkane
For to mak dule thair winnis nane,
And quha haldis in him wraith or yre,
It birnis himself lyke ony fyre,
And destroyis himself and slais.”
Richt as the King his sermone mais,
Syne come the Clarkis of thair lay,

432

For to eird thame that thair deid lay,
Ilkane of thame had ane riche beir,
Ordaned weill with claspis seir.
Sone as the Sacrifice was done,
Thay deid corps war erdit sone.
Vpon Clarus toumbe thay wrait
His lyfe, his power and his stait,
And how he lufit dame Fesonas,
That was sa fare of fax and face;
On vther halfe his sonnes lay,
And Cassamus als eardit thay.
Quhen this was done, thay ȝeid thair gait,
And to thair hors thay come full hait,
And lap on and to the palace raid,
And lichted thair but langar baid.

[432a]

The King is entred in Effesoun,
And at the palace lichted doun,
With princes and dukes mony ane;
Thair hors than hes thair knaiffis tane.
Thair followit the King Emynedus,
Gaudefeir, Arreste and Caulus.
The maydinnis ar agane him went,
For thay set haly thair entent
To gar Porrus mak gude cheir.
Said Ideas with colour cleir,
“How fair ȝe, shir?”—“richt wounder weil!
Weill neir I may na sairnes feill,
For, with the harm that I haue had,
(Louit be Marcus!) I am stad
Heir into this cumpany
That I lufe ouer all thing soueranly.”
“Ȝe haue na wrang,” said Ideas.

433

As he and sho this carpand was,
Come Marciane and the Bauderane.
Quhen Porrus saw thame cumming in plane,
He weilcumit thame richt glaidfully.
Thay helsit him and sat him by,
And besyde thame dam Ydorus;
Lang quhyle amang thame spak thay thus.

[433a]

In Venus Chalmer ar thay set,
And tald Porrus foroutin let
The franshis and the honoring
That thay fand with the nobill king,
And how that thay delyuerit ar:
“The Kingis men becumming we ar!”
Thus held thay lang quhyle carping,
Quhill men callit thame to the King
To ete, and to the hall thay went,
With thame the madinnis that war gent.

[433b]

The King than wosch and ȝeid to meit,
The madinnis amang the laif war set;
Thay maid thame mekill feste and fare,
Great honour ilkane vthir bare,
Of courtas speke bot velany,
Ilkane seruit vthir commounly.
Thare meissis to tell war our lang baid;
Ȝe may weill wit yneuch [thay haid]
Wyne and pymente but sparing,
Menstraly, myrth and singing.
That day thay vsit in gaming and play;
At euin to thare bed ȝeid thay.
Wpon the morne the King vp rais,
And soiornit thare quhil Porrus was
Of his woundis helit weill,

434

And recouerit his mychtis Ilka deill,
This was ane day in the morning,
That rissin was the nobill King;
His duzeperis with him war,
That ane gude quhyle had soiornit thare.
Porrus come furth, that lang had lyne,
With him Marciane his cousine;
The Bauderane can the madynis lede,
And sa before the King thay ȝeid,
And helsit him with courtasy;
The King thame honorit gretumly.
Wpone ane carpet, thare was spred,
Thay sat doun by the Kingis bed,
Gaudefeir was thare and Betys;
And Alexander the King of prys,
Than devysed the Mariage;
To stanshe thare weir, thare ire to suage,
Sa sall he lufe in thocht and deid:
“And gif it failȝeis (as God forbeid!)
Gif ony wrangis ȝow, lat me wit
And, gif God will, I sall mend it.”
Than thay thankit the King haly.
Our all the land thay gart cry
That all suld cum foroutin thra;
Knichtis and ladeis come alsa,
Gaudefeir gart sone stentit be
Pauillonis quhare thay mire menȝe
May all assembill in the planis,
For thay may nocht ete all atanis,

[434a]

At the citie of Effezoun,
Quhat out-with and within the toun,
Thare was ane full great assemble

435

Of knichtis about all the cuntre;
Of maydinnis and of ladyes great deill
Assembled war, riche and weill.
Thair was mony pauillioun
Stentit thair without the toun,
Thair was the Kingis awin tent,
Sa fair, I trow, na ȝit sa gent
Saw neuer ȝit na wyfis sone;
The postis war of Euory fyne,
The rapes of silk euery deill;
Thair was ryches and mony ioweill.
The King of the palyce ȝeid,
The ladyes with him gart he leid;
The gude Porrus of Inde thair was,
And the Bauderane with him gais,
With thame Marciane thair cousine;
Gaudefeir and Betys was thair syne,
Arreste and Emynedus,
Perdicas, Lyoun and Caulus,
Lycanor, Festioun and Floridas,
And mony vther of Tyre thair was.
Than callit the gude King on Porrus
Be name, and to him said he thus:
“This gift, beaushire, ressaue heir,
Of Fesonas, the fare and cleir!
Ȝe lufe baith vther, as I heir say.
For hir the avowis this hinder day
Was maid with sa great hardement
Quhairthrow we almaist had bene shent!”
Than Porrus all ashamed was,
And spak na word ane full great space,
Quhen he had thocht, he said, “shir King,

436

I thank ȝow of it in mekill thing,
Bot of the dedis that passit ere,
That ȝe maid mening of lang ere,
Is me falling nathing bot dishonour.”
“Ȝit, perfay,” said the Empriour,
“I warne ȝow weill I say nathing
Bot of ȝour gude deid, be heuinis King!
And, be the faith I aw to beir
To Neptune, Mars, and Iupiteir,
Thocht I my chois had of thame all
That euer had lyfe, or euer leif sall,
For to beir my gumfyoun,
To keip my mensk and my renoun
In hard battell and great melle,
I wald na persoun cheis but the!”
Now vnderstude and persauit Porrus
That the King was couatous
To haue honour with laute.
Than sueitly to him said he,
“Quhill I leif, I salbe fane
To win ȝour lufe with all my mane,
And, be the Goddis that I in trow,
War I sik as ȝe say now,
I suld win mare in seuin ȝeir
Than Pryam tynt in all maneir,
Sa that my freindis suld better be.”
“I gif the now,” said the King, “parde.”
To Fesonas with colour cleir
He said, “my sueit, ressauis heir
The body of the nobillest knicht
That euer bare brand or byrnie bricht,
For he is sikker, wyse and hardy,

437

And dois his deid auysitly.
He hes great vndertane for ȝow;
It is tyme that ȝe quyte him now!”

The venche was baith courtas and wyse,
And richt weill spokin at all deuyce,
With hair as gold and cullour cleir,
With lauchand ene on gude maneir,
With rede lippis and teith quhyt.
To the King sho said als tyte:
“I am wilfull to do ȝour will
Euer mair baith loud and still,
And I auouit this hinder day
That, for nocht that men mycht say,
But ȝour assent I sould neuer maryet be!”
“Faith,” said the King, “that lykis me,
And thairfore sall ȝow nathing tyne,
Bot beir ane croun of gold full fyne!”
Porrus was weddit but mare letting
And him thay crounit as nobill King.
He gaif him haly the les Ynde
In heritage; thare men mycht find
Woddis, feildis and plenteous land,
Castelis and touns weill standand,
Weill neir the west thare nane may wyn
For serpentis and heit of the son,
Leopardis, tygris and lyonis,
Beris, vnicornis and griffonis;
Thare cummis the watter fra parradyce;
Thare men findis Sapheris and rubys,
Carbuklis and dyamontis alsua.
Our all that land King can he ma
Gude Porrus, the new maid King,

438

That wourthy was in to all thing.

Now hes he weddit Fezonas
To wyfe, that was sa fare of face;
Betys was blyth and Gaudefeir.
And the gude King Alexander de Lere,
Than said he to Ydeas the fre,
“Damysell, I will gif the
To sik that the bird nocht forsaik,
For he is douchty, I vnder-taik,
And of stedfast hart and fyne;
My suord he reft me maugre myne;
Bot he it vowit this hinder day
And weill fulfillit it perfay.
To husband now thow sall him haue,
I can nocht gif (sa God me saue!)
The to ane better nowthir-quhare!”
The madin greatly him thankit thare.
The King said to the Bauderane,
“Cum furth, schir! for Goddis pane,
Fulfill sum thing of ȝour ȝarning.”
Than weddit he that sueit thing
With the best and of maist bounte,
And said, “gif it thy villis be!”
The King gaif thame Gaderis all;
The Bauderane at his feit can fall,
And thankit him full courtasly.
The King him rasit haistaly.

Now is the Bauderane all at eis,
Ane wyfe he hes that may him pleis.
Than Alexander the nobill King.
Callit Ydorus that sueit thing,
And said, “gif it thy willis be,

439

Ta the best and of maist bounte
That may be leuand of his eild,
For he is bot ane ȝong child.”
“Schir,” said Ydorus, “at ȝour lyking
I will be euer attour all thing,
And for to haue sik ane as he
Me bourd baith glaid and Ioyfull be!”
Betys is weddit than wilfully;
The King than gaif thame haistely
Threttie Castellis and citeis thre,
And vther landis of great plente.
To erd thay fell and thankit thame baith;
And [he] fra erd thame rasit raith.

[439a]

Thir seuin ar at thair lyking stad,
Riches and land yneuch thay had.
King Porrus bare that day the croun,
Sa did the quene, as was resoun.
I warne ȝow weill the feist was great;
Men mycht heir trumpetis and taburnis baith.
That day men maid thame all myrrie,
And buirdis thay set all delyuerly.
The King woshe first, the ladeis syne,
In basingis maid of siluer fyne.
The Kingis war set to the meit,
And the ladeis thare war fete,
The Bauderane als with ferly fare.
Before the King war seruandis thare
Gaudefeir and his brothir Betys.
The douzeperis that war to prys,
War set richt weill and honorabilly,
And seruit richt weill and richely.
I can nocht tell quhat meit thay had.

440

All war thay myrrie, blyth and glaid.

At meit thay sat, all that was thair,
Baith ane and vther maid gude scheir.
Quhen thay had etin and wyschin baith
Pypis, fistulis soundit raith,
That all was baith myrrie and moy.
Quhen nicht was cuming, than doubillit the Ioy
Of thame that newlingis mareit war,
For thay had all thare lyking thare.
Quhill on the morne thay restit all,
That all was rissin, great and small.
Quhy suld I tell to lang my taill?
Thay soiornit fyfteine dayes haill,
Menstralis had all at thare lyking
Baith gold, siluer and clething.
Than said the King to Gaudefeir,
“Beaushir, I forgif the heir
That thow hecht to gang with me
Quhill Babylone conquerit be.
That is the toun I couet maist,
Bot I sall haue my will in haist,
Or ellis full deir it bocht sall be.
For-thy, this word I schew to the,
Of before in priuate,
For I will that thow wit, parde,
That it mislyke the in na thing;
And als I pray Porrus the King
That he gang in his awin countrie,
Tak with him Fezonas the fre,
And the Bauderane to Gaderis ga,
Tak with him Ydeas alsa.
I pray ȝow all for cherite,
Gif that me fallis ocht suddanlye,

441

Quhairthrow my men aggreuit be,
That ȝe cum sone and succour me.
I sall do ȝow that ilk, perfay!”
Quhen the barrounis hard him sa say,
Thay ansuered all: “quhill deid thame take,
His bidding sall thay neuer forsake!”
The King to God betaucht thame than,
And thay loutit euer ilk man.
He kyssed the ladeis ilkane seir,
And tuke his leif on gude maneir.
To Babylon the hoste can ryde,
That conuoyit him on ilka syde,
And all with him furth thay fare;
The King thame leuit, baith les and mare.
To Babylon syne can he ga.
Allace! allace! quhy did he sa?
He deit thare throw poysoning;
It was great harme of sik ane thing,
For neuer mare sik ane lord as he
Sall in this warld recouerit be.

To short thame that na Romanes can,
This buke to translait I began,
And as I can, I maid ending,
Bot thocht I failȝeit of ryming
Or meter or sentence, for the rude,
Forgif me, for my will was gude
To follow that in franche I fand writtin!
Bot thocht that I seuin ȝeir had sittin,
To mak it on sa gude manere,
Sa oppin sentence and sa clere,
As is the frenche, I micht haue failȝeit.
For-thy my wit was nocht traualit

442

To mak it sa, for I na couth,
Bot said furth as me come to mouth.
And as I said, richt sa I wrait.
Thairfoir richt wonder weill I wait
At it hes faltis mony-fald,
Quhairfoir I pray baith ȝoung and ald
That ȝarnis this romanis for to reid,
For to amend quhair I mysȝeid!

Ze that haue hard this romanis heir
May sumdeill by exampill leir
To lufe vertew attour all thing,
And preis ȝow ay for to win louing,
That ȝour name may for ȝour bounte
Amang men of gude menit be.
For quhen ȝe lawe ar laid in lame,
Than leuis thair nathing bot ane name,
As ȝe deserued, gud or ill;
And ȝe may alsweill, gif ȝe will,
Do the gude and haue louing
As quhylum did this nobill King,
That ȝit is prysed for his bounte,
The quhether thre hundreth ȝeir was he
Before the tyme that God was borne
To saue our saullis, that was forlorne.
Sensyne is past ane thousand ȝeir,
Four hundreth and threttie thair-to neir,
And aucht and sumdele mare, I wis.
God bring vs to his mekill blis,
That ringis ane in trinitie.
Amen, amen for cheritie!

FINIS.