Part 1: Lines 1–410

GOD in glorye of myghteste moost,
That al thinge made in sapience
By vertue of woorde and holy goost,
Gyvinge to man grete excellence,

And alle, þat is in erthe, wroght
Subiecte to man and man̄ to the,
That he shoulde witħ herte and thought
To loue and serve, and nooɳ but the:

For ȝyfe man̄ kepte thy commaundemente
In al thinge and loued the welle
And hadde synnede in his entente,
Thaɳ shulde he fully thy grace fele;

But for the offences to God I-doon
Many vengeaunces haue be-falle.
Where-of I wole yoᶙ telle of ooɳ,
It were to mocħ to telle of alle.

While þat Rome was in excellence
Of alle Realmes in dignite,
And howe it felle for his offence,
Listinythe a while and ye shal see,

Howe it was woneɳ and brente
Of a Sowdoɳ, that heatheɳ was,
And for synne howe it was shente;
As Kinge Lowes witnessith þat cas,

As it is wryten in Romaunce
And founden in bokes of Antiquyte
At Seinte Denyse Abbey in Fraunce,
There as Cronycles remembrede be,

Howe Laban, the kinge of hie degre,
And syr and Sowdoɳ of hie Babiloɳ,
Conquerede grete parte of Christiante,
That was born in Askaloɳ.

And in the Cite of Agremare
Vppon̄ the Rivere of Flagote
At þat tyme he soiorned ther
Fulle roially, wel I wote,

With kinges xij and Admyralles xiiij,
With many a Baron̄ & Kniȝtis ful boold,
That roialle were and semly to sene;
Here worþynesse al may not be told.

Hit bifelle by-twyxte March and Maye,
Whan kynde corage begynneth to pryke,
Whan̄ ffritħ and felde wexen gaye,
And every wight desirith his like,

Whan̄ lovers slepen̄ withe opyn̄ yȝe,
As Nightyngalis on grene tre,
And sore desire þat thai cowde flye,
That thay myghte withe here louere be:

This worthy Sowdon̄ in this seson̄
Shope him to grene woode to goon̄,
To chase the Bore or the Veneson̄,
The Wolfe, the Bere and the Bawson.

He roode tho vppon̄ a fforeste stronde
With grete rowte and roialte,
The fairest, þat was in alle þat londe,
With Alauntes, Lymmeris and Racches free.

His huntes to chace he commaunde,
Here Bugles boldely for to blowe,
To fere the beestis in þat launde.
The Sowdon̄ woxe wery I-nowe;

He rested him vndere an holme tre
Sittynge vppon̄ a grene sete
Seynge a Dromonde com seilyng in þe see
Anone he charged to bekyn̄ him with honde

To here of him tidinges newe.
The maister sende a man to londe,
Of diuers langages was gode and trewe,
And saide “lorde, this Dromonde

Fro Babyloyne comen̄ is,
That was worþe thousande poundis,
As it mete with shrewes I-wis,
Charged with perle and precious stones

And riche pelure and spicerye,
With oyle and bras qweynte for the nones
To presente yow, my lorde worthy.
A drift of wedir vs droffe to Rome,

The Romaynes robbed vs anone;
Of vs thai slowgh ful many one.
With sorwe and care we be bygone.
Whereof, lorde, remedye

Ye ordeyne by youre Barons boolde,
To wreke the of this vilane;
Or certes oure blis is coolde.”
The Soudon hirynge this tyþinge,

With egre chere he made a vowe
To Mahounde and to Appolyne,
That thai shulde by it dere I-nowe,
Er that he wente fro theyme.

“Where be ye, my kinges boolde,
My Barons and my Admyral?
Thes tidinges make myn herte coolde,
But I be venged, dyen I shalle.

Sire Ferumbras, my sone so dere,
Ye muste me comforte in this case;
My ioye is alle in the nowe here
And in my Doghter Dame Florypas.

Sortybraunce, my Counselere,
Lete clepe him forthe to counsaile me,
And Oliborne, my Chauncelere
And noble Clerke of hie degre,

And Espiarde, my messangere,
To goon to Assye and to Aufrike,
To kinges, princes ferr and ner,
Barons, Admyralls and Dukes frike,

Comaundinge hem vppon̄ her legeaunce
To come in al hast vnto me,
Wel Armed with shelde and launse,
To Egremoure þon̄ riche Cite.”

In shorte tyme this message was wroghte
An hundred thouusande on a rowte
That robbery was righte dere boght,
Was never none derrer withouten douȝte.

The kinge of Baldas, sir Lukafer,
Of Aufryke lorde and governoure,
Spake to the Sowdon̄, that men myghte here,
And saide “sir, for thyn honour,

Do sende for shippes both fer and nere.”
Carrikes, Galeis and shippes shene,
vij hundred were gadered al in fere
And a Dromonde for the Sowden̄ kene.

Sir Ferumbras of Alisaundre
In the Dromonde with him was,
Of Assy the kinge of Chaunder,
And his faire dogħter Floripas.

Two maistres were in the Dromounde,
Two goddes on hye seten̄ thore
In the maister toppe, withe macis rounde,
To manace with the Cristen̄ lore.

The sailes were of rede Sendelle,
Embrowdred witħ riche araye,
With beestes and breddes every dele,
That was right curious and gaye;

The Armes displaied of Laban
Of Asure and foure lions of goolde.
Of Babiloyne the riche Sowdon̄,
Moost myghty man he was of moolde,

He made a vowe to Termagaunte,
Whan Rome were distroied & hade myschaunce,
He woolde turne ayen erraunte
And distroye Charles the kinge of Fraunce.

Fortħ thai sailed on the flode,
Tille thai come to the haven of Rome:
The wynde hem served, it was ful goode.
Ther londed many a grymlye gome.

Thai brente and slowen, þat Cristen were,
Town̄, Abbey and holy chirche.
The hethen hade such power there,
That moche woo gan thai there wircħ.

Tidinggis came to Rome anone
Unto the Pope, that þt tyme was,
That the heþen came to bren and slone.
This was to hem a sory cas.

He lete cal his counsaile to-geder
To wete, what was beste to don̄.
Anone as thai were come þeder,
He asked of hem al ful sone:

“Lordinges, it is vnknowne to you,
That this cursed hathen Sowdon̄
Brennyth and stroyeth oure pepul nowe,
Alive he leveth vnneth not one.

Seint Petir be oure governoure
And save this worthi Cite of Rome,
And Seinte Poule be oure gydoure
From this cursed hethen̄ houne!”

Ifreȝ he bispake him than̄,
Of Rome he was a Senatoure,
And saide “senditħ some worthy man
To Charles kinge of hye honoure.

He wolde you helpe with al his mygħte,
That noble kinge of Dowse Fraunce.”
“Certes” quod Savaris “þat weren no rigħte,
It were right a foule myschaunce,

To sende to þat worthy kinge.
We have oure hedes yet al hole,
Oure sheldes be not broke no-thinge,
Hawberke, spere, ner poleyne, ner pole.

Where-of shul we playn̄ to him,
That no thinge yet have assaide?
Mecħ uylanye we myght wynne,
That for noght were so sone afrayed.

Ten thousande men delyuere me tyte
Tomorue next in-to the feelde,
And I shall prove with al my myghte
To breke there bothe spere and shelde.”

Vnto the Senatours it semed welle,
His counsaile goode and honurable.
This worthi Duke was armed in stele
In armes goode and profitable;

He bare a Chek of goulis clere,
An Egle of goolde abrode displayed.
With him many a bolde Bachelere
Tho spake Savaryȝ witħ wordes on hye

And saide “my felowes alle,
This daie prove you men̄ worthy,
And faire you al shal befalle.
Thenke yat Criste is more myghty
Than here fals goddis alle;
And he shal geve vs the victorie,
And foule shal hem this day bifalle.”

Fortħ than rode þat faire Ooste
With right goode chere and randon̄,
Tille than come ful nyȝe the cooste.
Of the Sowdons Pavylon̄

Ferumbras was of hem ware
And sprange out as a sparkil of glede;
Of Armes bright a sheelde he bare,
A Doughty man̄ he was of dede.

xv thousande came oute there
With him at þat same tyde,
Ayen the Romaynes for to were,
Witħ bobaunce, booste and grete pride.

The stoure was stronge, enduryng longe:
The Romaynes hade there the feelde;
The Sarysyns thai slougħ amonge,
Ten thousand and mo with spere and sheelde.

Sauariz was wise and ware
And drowe towards þat Citee.
His baner displaied witħ him he bare
To releve with his meyne.

The Pope with his Senatours
Thanked god þat tyme of glorie,
That gafe hem þat day grete honours,
Of hethen that dai to have the victorie.

Lukafere, kinge of Baldas,
The countrey hade serchid and sought,
Ten thousande maidyns faire of face
Vnto the Sowdan hath he broghte.

The Sowdon̄ commanded hem anone,
That thai shulde al be slayn̄.
Martires thai were euerychon̄,
And therof were thai al ful fayne.

He saide “my peple nowe ne shalle
With hem noughte defouled be,
But I wole distroie ouer all
The sede over alle Cristiante.”

Tho spake lukefere the kinge,
That hethen̄ hounde Baldas,
And saide “Sir Sowdan̄, graunte me one thinge,
Thi doghter Dame Floripas.

The kinge of Fraunce I shal the bringe
And the xij dosipers alle in fere.”
The Sowdan saide in þat tokenyng,
“I graunte the here, that is so dere.”

Tho sayde Floripe “sire, noon̄ haste,
He hath note done as he hath saide.
I trowe, he speketh these wordes in waste,
He wole make bute an easy brayde.

Whan he bryngith home Charles the kinge
And the xij dosipers alle,
I graunte to be his derlynge
What so evere therof by-falle.

Than on the morowe the Sowdan̄
Callid to him Lukafer of Baldas,
To assaile the Cite anone:
“And loke thou tary not in this cas!

Thritty thousande of my menie,
Of Gallopes, Ethiopes and Aufricanes,
Take hem to the walles witħ the.
Betitħ down̄ wallis, towris and stones.”

Lukafer blewe his clarion̄
To Assemble the Sarasyns þat tide,
Where-of thai knewe right welle the soune,
Thai made hem redy for to ride,

But whan thai come to the yate,
The Dikes were so develye depe,
Thai helde hem selfe Chek-mate;
Ouer cowde thai nothir goo nor crepe.

Lukafer in al the haste
Turned to the Sowdan agayn̄
And saide “sir, it is alle in waste,
We laboure nowe alle in vayne.

To depe and brode the Dikes bene,
The Towres so stronge be witħ alle,
That by Mahounde I can note seen̄,
How that we shulde wyne ther to the walle.”

Who was woode but the Sowdon̄?
He reneyed his goddis alle.
He clepede his Engynour sir mavone,
To counsaile he did him faste calle.

He tolde him the case of þat myschefe,
How it stode at that ilke tyde.
Mavon Gafe him counsel in breefe
To fille the Dikes þat were depe.

Every man to woode shal goon̄,
Fagotis to hewe and faste bynde,
And fille the Dikes faste anoon̄
With alle, that we may ther fynde.

“Gramercy, Mavon̄,” quod Laban than̄,
“Mahoundis benysone thou shalt haue,
Of alle myn Ooste the wiseste man,
With counsaile men for to saue.”

Alle this was done the seconde daye,
Men myght go even to the walle;
On every party the ooste laye,
Thai made assaite then generalle.

The Romaynes ronnen̄ to the toures,
Thai were in ful grete dowte;
Thai hade many sharpe shoures,
Thai were assailed sore a-bowte.

Wifis and maidyns stones thai bare
To the walles than ful faste,
Thai were in grete drede and care;
The men over the wallis did caste.

Thai slowen many a Sarasyn̄,
x thousande pepul of hem̄ and moo.
The daie passed to the fyne,
The hethen withdrowe hem tho.

Whan these tidinges came to laban,
His goddes he gan chide.
He waxe both blake, pale and wan,
He was nyȝe woode þat same tyde.

Tho Lukafer comfortede him welle
And saide “sir, be not dismayed,
For I have aspied everydele,
Howe thai shalle alle be betrayede.

Sauariz wole to morowe witħ us fighte,
His baner knowe I ful welle;
I shal have an othere, I yoᶙ plighte,
Like to this every dele.

Whan he is moste besy in bataile,
Than wole I with banere displaiede
Ride in to Rome without faile,
Thus shal thai al be betrayede.”

The Sowdan̄ was glad of this tidinge,
Hopinge it shulde be so;
And even as it was in purposynge,
Right so was it aftir I-do.

Wenynge it hade be Sauarye,
Relevinge fro the hethen stour,
Wenynge doth ofte harme withoute lye,
He entred to the maister Toure.

The firste warde thus thay wonne
By this fals contrevede engyne.
Thus was moche sorowe bygon̄,
Thai slougħ all, that were ther-Inne.

Whan̄ Sauariz saugħ this discomfitur
Of the Romaynes in that tyme,
And howe harde than̄ was here aventur,
Of sorowe þat myghte he ryme

Of x thousande men̄ lefte no moo
But sexty men̄ and twelfe,
And whan he sawe this myschief tho,
He turned homewarde agayn him selue.

By than̄ he founde the gate shite
With Sarisyns, that hade it wone;
And Estragot with him he mette
With bores hede, blake and donne.

For as a bore an hede hadde
And a grete mace stronge as stele.
He smote Sauaryz as he were madde,
That dede to grounde he felle.

This Astrogot of Ethiop,
He was a kinge of grete strengtħ;
Ther was none suche in Europe
So stronge and so longe in lengtħ.

I trowe, he were a develes sone,
Of Belsabubbis lyne,
For ever he was thereto I-wone,
To do Cristen̄ men grete pyne.

Whan tidinggis came to the Pope,
That Duke Sauaryz was dede slayn̄,
Than̄ to woo turned alle his hope;
He dide calle than̄ to counsaile

Alle the Senatouris of Rome,
What þinge þat myght hem most availe,
And what were beste to done.
Tho by-spake a worthy man of counsaile,

An Erille of the Senatouris:
“The best counsaile, þat I can
Sending vnto Charles the kinge

Certifiynge him by your myssangeris
The myschief þat ye are Inne,
That he come with his Dosyperys
To reskue Cristiante fro this heþen.”

All thai assentede anone therto;
The lettres were made in haste.
Thre messageres we ordeyn̄ therto,
That went forthe at the laste.

At a posterne thai wente oute
Pryvely aboute mydnygħt,
And passed through alle the route.
Of hem was war no wigħt.

BVT let we nowe the messangeris goon̄,
And speke we of Laban̄,
Howe he dide saile the Cite anoon̄,
And commaundid, þat every man

Shulde withe Pikeys or witħ bille
The Wallis over throwe,
That he myght the Romaynes kille,
Playnly on a rowe,

By water he ordeynede the shippes goon̄,
The bootis bownden to the maste,
That thai myght fight with hem anoon̄,
Honde of honde, þat was here caste.

To the Toure a bastile stode,
An engyne was I-throwe—
That was to the Cite ful goode—
And brake down̄ towres both hie and lowe.

Tho sorowede alle the Citesyns
And were ful hevy than̄.
Tho wox prowde the Sarasyns,
And than bispake sire laban

And saide “yolde youe here to me,
Ye may not longe endure,
Or ellis shall ye al slayn̄ be,
By mahounde I you ensure.”

A Romayne drife a darte him to
And smote him on the breste plate,
Ne hadde his hawberke lasted tho,
Mahounde had come to late.