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.

[volume]

[The Buik of Alexander]

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

[section]

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

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

[section]

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

[section]

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

[section]

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

[prologue]

Heir beginnys the Avous.

[section]

[epilogue]

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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.