Lines 1756–2187

He led hur up into the towne,
At thys burges hows he toke hur downe.
There was hur harburgerye.
On the hye deyse he hur sett,
And mete and drynke he hur sett,
Of the wyne redd as cherye.
The burges wyfe welcomed hur ofte,
Wyth mylde wordys and wyth softe,
And bad hur ofte be merye.
Tho two false wyth grete yre,
Stode and behelde her ryche atyre,
And beganne to lagh and flerye.

The burges wyfe wyste ther thoght,
And seyde in feythe we do for noght,
Yf so be that y may.
At nyght to chaumbur sche hur ledd,
And sparryd the dore and went to bedd,
All nyght togedur they laye.
Sche calde on Clarebolde hur knave,
A lytyll errande for sothe y have,
At the see so graye ;
Yf any schepe wend ovyr the streme
To the Cyte of Jerusalem,
Gode sone wytt me to saye.

Clarebalde seyde the burges tylle,
Thys nyght had we not owre wylle,
We muste caste a nodur wyle.
To the see they went in fere,
And sold her to a marynere,
Wythynne a lytyll whyle ;
On covenawnt sche ys the feyrest thynge,
That evyr ye sye olde or yynge.
And he at them can smyle.
So mekyll golde for hur he hyght.
That hyt passyd almoost hur weyght,
On eyther parte was gyle.

"Take here the golde in a bagg,
I schall hyt hynge on a knagg,
At the schypp borde ende ;
When ye have broght that clere,
Put up yowre hand and take hyt here :
Aftur her can they wende.
They seyde a schypp ys hyred to the,
That wyll to Jerusalem ovyr the see,
Sche thankyd them as sche was hende,
Sche gaf the burges wyfe hur palfray,
Wyth sadyll and brydyll, the sothe to say.
And kyste hur as hur frende.

Alther furste to the kyrke sche went,
To here a masse verament,
And preyed god of hys grace,
That he wolde bryng hur to that ryke,
That evyr more ys yoye in lyke,
Before hys worthy face ;
And or sche dyed Emere to see,
That hur own lorde schulde bee,
In Rome that ryall place.
To the schypp they went in fere,
And betoke hur to the marynere.
That lovely undur lace.

They toke the bagg, they went hyt had be golde,
And had hyt home into ther holde,
They lokyd and then hyt was ledd ;
The burges seyde to Clarebalde,
Thou haste made a sory frawde,
God gyf the schames dedd :
For certenly, wythowten wene,
Thou hast begyled a lady schene.
And made hur evyll of redd.
To the see hyed they faste,
The sayle was up unto the maste,
And remevydd was fro that stedd.

All men that to the schypp can longe.
They went Florence to leman have fonge,
Ylke oon aftur odur had done ;
But they faylyd of ther praye,
Thorow grace of god that myghtes may,
That schope bothe sonne and moone.
Sche calde on Clarebalde hur knave,
The marynere seyde, Y hope ye rave.
And tolde how he hade doone :
Sche prayde god schulde hym forgeve,
A dreryer woman myght noone leeve,
Undur hevyn trone.

The maryner set hur on hys bedd,
Sche hadd soone eftur a byttur spredd,
The schypp sayled belyve ;
He seyde, Damysell, y have the boght,
For thou art so worthely wroght,
To wedde the to my wyve.
Sche sayde, Nay that schall not bee,
Thorow helpe of hym in trynyte
That suffurde woundys fyve ;
In hys armes he can hur folde,
Hur rybbes crakyd as they breke wolde,
In struglynge can they stryve.

Sche seyde, Lady Mary free.
Now thou have mercy on me,
Thou faylyst me nevyr at nede ;
Here my errande, as thou well may,
That y take no schame to-day.
Nor lose my maydynhede.
Then beganne the storme to ryse,
And that upon a dolefull wyse,
The marynere rose and yede.
He hyed to the toppe of the maste,
They stroke the sayle, the gabuls braste,
They hyed them a bettur spede.

He seyde but yf thys storme blynne,
All mun be drowned that be hereynne,
Then was that lady fayne ;
Sche had levyr to have be dedd
Then there to have loste hur maydynhedd,
Or he had hur by layne.
Then the schypp clave in sondur,
All that was yn hyt soone went undur,
And drowned both man and swayne.
The yonge lady in that tyde,
Fleytyd forthe on the schypp syde,
Unto a roche ungayne ;

The marynere sat upon an are,
But nodur wyste of odur fare,
The todur were drowned perde.
The lady steppyd to a ston,
Sche fonde a tredd and forthe ys gon,
Loudyng the trynyte,
To a noonre men calle Beverfayre,
That stondyth on the watur of Botayre,
That rennyth into the Grekys see.
A stepull then the lady sye,
Sche thoght the wey thedur full drye,
And thereat wolde sche bee.

Syr Lucyus Ibarnyus was fownder there,
An hundurd nonnes theryn were,
Of ladyes wele lykeande.
When that sche came nere the place,
The bellys range thorow godys grace,
Wythowten helpe of hande.
Of seynt Hyllary the churche ys,
The twenty day of yowle y wys,
As ye may undurstande.
They lokyd and sawe no levyng wyght,
But the lady feyre and bryght
Can in the cloystur stande.

The abbas be the honde hur toke,
And ladd hur forthe, so seyth the boke,
Sche was redd for ronne.
Sche knelyd downe before the crosse,
And looveyd god wyth mylde voyce,
That sche was thedur wonne.
They askyd hur yf sche had ony fere.
Sche seyde, Nay, now noon here
Leveyng undur the sonne.
Sche askyd an hows for charyte,
They broght an habyte to that fre,
And there sche was made nonne.

The lady that was bothe gode and feyre,
Dwellyd as nonne in Beverfayre,
Loveyng god of hys loone,
And hys modur, Mary bryght,
That safe and sownde broght her ryght
Unto the roche of stone.
A systur of the hows was seke,
Of the gowte, and odur evyls eke,
Sche myght not speke nor goon ;
Florence vysyted hur on a day,
And helyd hur or sche went away,
Sche wolde ther had wytten thereof none.

The abbas, and odur nonnes by,
Tolde hyt full openlye,
That hyt was so verraye,
Ther was noon syke nor sare,
That come there the lady ware,
But they went sownde away.
The worde sprang in mony a cuntre,
And into Rome the ryche cyte.
There hur lorde in laye,
Whych had an evyll in hys hevedd,
That all hys yoye was fro hym revedd,
Bothe be nyght and daye.

He was so tuggelde in a toyle,
For he werryd on the kyng of Poyle,
And he on hym agayne ;
And as he schulde hys helme avente,
A quarell smote hym verament,
Thorowowt bothe bonne and brayne.
The leche had helyd hyt ovyr tyte,
And hyt was festurd wythowte delyte,
Theryn he had grete payne ;
He had levyr then all hys golde,
That he had ben undur the molde,
Or slyly had be slayne.

He calde Egravayne hym too.
And seyde, What ys beste to do ?
Myn evyll encreaseth yerne,
"Syr, at Beverfayre dwellyth a nonne,
The weyes thedur we ne conne,
But we schall spyr and lerne."
Mekyll golde wyth them they toke,
And wente forthe, so seyth the boke,
Prevely and deme ;
And yyt for all ther mekyll tare,
Hyt was a grete whyle or they came thare,
Thogh all they hastyd yerne.

The emperowre toke hys ynne thereby,
Alther next the nonnery,
For there then wolde he dwelle ;
And Mylys hys brodur, that graceles fole,
Dwellyd wyth oon Gyllam of Pole,
And was woxyn a fowle meselle.
He harde telle of that lady lele,
And thedur was comyn to seeke hys hele,
The certen sothe to telle ;
He harberde hym far therefro
All behynde men, y telle yow soo,
Hys sekenes was so felle

And Machary was comyn alse,
Agenste the lady that was so false,
That slewe Betres and put hyt hur too,
God had sende on hym a wrake,
That in the palsye can he schake,
And was crompylde and crokyd therto.
He had geten syr Tyrry thedur,
And hys wyfe bothe togedur,
Dame Eglantyne hyght schoo,
The holy nonne for to praye,
For to hele hym and sche maye,
That oght sche evyll to doo.

Syr Tyrrye the chastlayne
Harbarde the emperowre full gayne,
On the todur syde of the strete ;
And the marynere that hur boght,
That wolde have had hur hys leman to a wroght,
That on the ore can flete,
He came thedur wyth an evyll
Hyppyng on two stavys lyke the devyll,
Wyth woundys wanne and wete ;
And Clarebalde, that was the thefe,
Came wyth an evyll that dud hym grefe ;
Thes four there all can mete.

The emperowre to the church went,
To here a masse in gode entent,
Hende, as ye may here ;
When that the masse was done,
The abbas came and haylesyd hym soone,
On hur beste manere,
The emperowre seyde, Well thou bee,
The holy nonne wolde y see,
That makyth the syke thus fere ;
An evyll in my hedd smetyn ys,
That y have loste all odur blys ;
They sente after that clere.

At hur preyers there as sche ware,
When sche sawe hur owne lorde thare,
Sche knewe hym wele ynogh :
So dud he hur he wolde not so saye,
Abowte the cloystur goon are thay,
Spekynge of hys woghe.
Then was sche warre of the four thare,
That had kyndylde all hur care,
Nere to them sche droghe.
They knew hur not be no kyns thynge,
Thereof thankyd sche hevyn kynge,
And lyghtly at them loghe,

Mylys that hur aweye ledd,
He was the fowlest mesell bredd,
Of pokkys and bleynes bloo ;
And Machary, that wolde hur have slayne,
He stode schakyng, the sothe to sayne,
Crokyd and crachyd thertoo.
The maryner, that wolde have layne hur by,
Hys yen stode owte a strote for thy,
Hys lymmes were roten hym froo.
They put Clarebalde in a whelebarowe,
That strond thefe, be stretys narowe,
Had no fote on to goo,

Sche seyde, Ye that wyll be hale,
And holly broght owt of yowre bale
Of that ye are ynne.
Ye must schryve yow openlye,
And that wyth a full lowde crye,
To all that be here bothe more and mynne.
That they thoght full lothe to doo,
Mylys seyde, Syth hyt muste be soo,
Soone schall y begynne.
I lykyd never wele, day nor nyght,
Syth y ledd awey a lady bryght,
From kythe and all hur kynne.

Then he seyde to them verament,
How he the lady wolde have schent,
And tolde them to the laste ;
And that he wolde have be emperowre,
And weddyd the lady whyte as flowre.
And all hys false caste ;
And sythe awey he can hur lede,
For y wolde have refte fro hur hur maydynhede.
That sche defendyd faste.
I had never wyth hur to doo,
For y myght not wynne hur to,
But clene fro me sche paste :"

And sythyn he tolde them of the barley bredd,
And how he brent the armyte to dedd,
And hangyd hur up be the hare :
" Then y sye men and howndys bathe,
And to the wode y went for wrathe."
There Tyrry gaf answare :
Then came y and toke hur downe.
And had hur wyth me unto the towne,
And that rewyd me full sare ;
Sche slewe Betres my doghter schene,
That schulde my ryght heyre have bene,
And yyt let y hur fare.

For she was so bryght of blee.
And so semely on to see,
Therfore let y hur goo.
Then Machary, for he muste nede,
" Sche dyd me oonys an evyll dede,
My harte was wondur throo.
When y wolde have leyn hur by,
My for tethe smote sche owt for thy,
That wakenyd all my woo ;
I slewe Betres wyth a knyfe,
For y wolde sche had loste hur lyfe,
Trewly hyt was soo."

Then Tyrry farde as he wolde wede,
And seyde, False traytur, dyd thou that dede ?
Then wepyd dame Eglantyne,
And seyde, Alas that we came here,
Thys false traytur for to fere,
That wroght us all thys pyne,
Yyt y am warse for that feyre maye
That was so unfrendely flemed away,
And was gyltles therynne.
Clarebalde seyde, Sche came be me,
I stode undur a galowe tree,
And a rope abowte hals myne ;

Fro the galowse sche borowed me.
For y schulde hur knave have bee,
And serve hur to hur paye.
We were togedur but oon nyght.
At the see y solde that bryght,
On the seconde day.
Then spake the marynere that hur boght,
When y wolde hur to wyfe have wroght
Soone sche seyde me naye ;
Sche brake my schypp wyth a tempeste,
Sche fletyd sowthe and y north-weste,
And syth ye sawe y never that maye.

Upon an ore to londe y wanne,
And ever syth have be a drery man,
And nevyr had happe to hele ;
And syth y have be in sorowe and syte,
Me thynkyth we four be in febull plyte,
That cawsyd hur to wante hur wylle.
She handylde them wyth hur hande,
Then were they hoole, y understande,
And odur folke full feele.
Hur own lorde, alther laste,
The venom owt of hys hedd braste,
Thus can sche wyth them dele ;

The venome braste owt of hys ere.
He seyde, Y fynd yow four in fere.
Hys herte was full throo.
He made to make a grete fyre.
And caste them yn wyth all ther tyre,
Then was the lady woo.
The emperowre took dame Eglantyne,
Tyrrye, and Florence, feyre and fyne,
And to the halle can goo,
They looveyd god, lesse and more,
That they had fownde the lady thore.
That longe had be them froo.

Such a feste as there was oon,
In that lande was never noon,
They gaf the nonnes rente,
And all ther golde, wythowt lesynge,
But unnethys that that myght them home brynge.
And thankyd them for that gente.
Florence seyde, Syr, wyth yowre leeve,
Tyrrye some thynge muste yow geve,
That me my lyfe hath lente.
He gaf hym the cyte of Florawnce.
And bad hym holde hyt wythout dystawnce
They toke ther leve and wente.

Tyrrye wente home to hys cuntre,
And the Emperowr to Rome hys ryche cyte,
As faste as evyr they maye.
When the pope harde telle of ther comyng,
He went agayne them wythowt lesynge,
In full ryall arraye,
Cardynals were somned be ther names,
And come syngyng Te deum laudamus,
The certen sothe to saye
They loovyd god bothe more and lesse,
That they had getyn the emperes,
That longe had been awaye.

Soche a brydale as there was oon
In that lande was nevyr noon,
To wytt wythowten wene ;
There was grete myrthe of mynstrals stevyn,
And nobull gyftys also gevyn,
Bothe golde and robys schene ;
Soone aftur, on the fowretenyth day,
They toke ther leve and went ther way,
And thankyd kynge and quene.
They loovyd god wyth myght and mayne
That the lady was comyn agayne,
And kept hur chaste and clene.

They gate a chylde the furste nyght,
A sone that syr Otes hyght,
As the boke makyth mynde ;
A nobull knyght, and stronge in stowre,
That after hym was emperowre,
As hyt was full gode kynde.
Then the emperowre and hys wyfe,
In yoye and blysse they lad ther lyfe,
That were comyn of gentyl strynde.
Pope Symonde thys story wrate,
In the cronykyls of Rome ys the date,
Who sekyth there he may hyt fynde.

For thy schulde men and women als
Them bethynke or they be false,
Hyt makyth so fowle an ende.
Be hyt nevyr so slylye caste,
Yyt hyt schamyth the maystyr at the laste,
In what londe that ever they lende.
I meene be thes four fekyll,
That harmed feyre Florence so mykyll,
The trewest that men kende :
And thus endyth thys romance gode.
Jhesu, that boght us on the rode,
Unto hys blysse us sonde.