Part 5: Lines 1635–2042

But woolde god of myghtes moost,
The Sowdon̄ wolde let vs oute goon̄,
We to fight witħ alle his Ooste,
To be slayn̄ in feelde anoon̄.

To murthir men̄ for defaute of mete,
It is grete shame tille a kinge;
For every man most nedes ete,
Or ellis may he do no thinge.”

Tho saide Floripe with wordes mylde,
“I wolde fayne, ye were now here,
From harme skatħ I wole you shelde,
And gife you mete with right gode cher.”

A rope to hem she lete down̄ goon̄,
That aboven̄ was teyde faste.
She and hir maydyns drewe þer vppon̄,
Tille vp thay hadde hem at the last.

She led hem into here chambir dere,
That arrayed for hem was rigħt wele,
Both Roulande and Olyvere,
And gafe hem̄ there a right gode mele.

And whan thay hadde eten̄ alle her fille,
A batħ for hem was redy there,
Ther-to thay went ful fayre and stille,
And aftyr to bedde with right gode cher.

Now Floripas chamber is here prisone,
Withouten̄ wetinge of the Sowdon̄;
Thai were ful mery in that Dongeon̄,
For of hem̄ wiste man̄ never oone.

Now lete we hem be and mery make,
Tille god sende hem gode delyueraunce.
Aftir the tyme, þat thay were take,
What did Charles, the kinge of Fraunce,

Ther-of wole we speke nowe,
Howe he cleped forth Sir Gy
And saide “on my message shaltowe,
Therfore make the faste redy,

To bidde the Sowden̄ sende me my Nevewes botħ
And the Releqes also of Rome;
Or I shal make him so wrotħ,
He shal not wete what to done.

And by þat god, þat hath me wroght,
I shal him leve Towre ner Town̄.
This bargan̄ shal so dere be bought
In dispite of his god Mahoun̄.”

DUKE Neymes of Bauer vp stert than̄
And saide “Sir, hastowe no mynde,
How the cursed Sowdan̄ Laban
Alle messengeris doth he shende?

Ye haue lost inowe, lese no mo
Onworthily Olyuer and Roulande.”
“By god, and thou shalt with him go,
For al thy grete brode londe.”

THO Ogere Danoys, þat worthy man̄,
“Sir” he saide “be not wrotħ!
For he saitħ soutħ.”—“go thoᶙ than̄!
By Gode thou shalte, be thoᶙ never so loth.”

“A Sire” quod Bery Lardeneys,
“Thoᶙ shalte hem se never more.”—
“Go thou forth in this same rees,
Or it shalle the repente ful sore.”

FOLK Baliante saide to the kinge,
“Liste ye youre Barons to lese?”—
“Certis, this is a wondir thinge!
Go thou also, thoᶙ shalte not chese!”

ALEROYSE rose vp anone
And to the kinge þan gan̄ he speke
And saide “what thinke ye, sir, to done?”—
“Dresse the forth witħ hem̄ eke!”

MIRON of Brabane spake an worde
And saide “Sir, thou maiste do þy wille.
Knowist thou not that cruel lorde,
How he wole thy Barons spille?”—

“Trusse the forth eke, sir Dasaberde,
Or I shalle the sone make!
For of all thinge thou arte aferde,
Yet arte thoᶙ neyther hurte ner take.”

BISSHOPE Turpyn̄ kneled adown̄
And saide “lege lorde, mercy!”
The kinge him swore by seynt Symon̄:
“Thou goist eke, make the in hast redye!”

BERNARDE of Spruwse, þat worthy knygħt,
Saide “sir, avyse yoᶙ bette,
Set not of youre Barons so ligħt,
Thou maiste haue nede to hem̄ yette.”—

“Thou shalte goon̄ eke for alle thy boost,
Haue done and make the fast yare!
Of my nede gyfe thoᶙ no coost,
Ther-of haue thou right no care!”

BRYER of Mounteȝ, þat marqwyȝ bolde,
Was not aferde to him to speke.
To the kinge sharply he tolde,
His witte was not worth a leke:

“Woltowe for Angre thy Barons sende
To þat Tiraunte, þat alle men sleitħ?
Or thou doist for þat ende,
To bringe thy xij peres to the detħ.”

The kinge was wrotħ and swore in halle
By him, þat boght him witħ his blode:
“On my messange shall ye gon̄ alle!
Be ye never so wrotħ or wode.”

Thay toke here lefe and fortħ thay yede,
It availed not agayne him to sayne.
I pray, god gif hem gode spede!
Ful harde it was to comen̄ agayn̄.

NOWE let hem passe in goddis name,
And speke we of the Sowdon̄,
Howe he complayned him of his grame,
And what that he myght beste done.

“Sortybraunnce and Bronlande” seyde he,
“Of counsail ye be fulle wyse.
How shal I do to avenge me
Of kinge Charles, and in what wyse?

He brennyth my Toures and my Citees,
And Burges he levethe me never oon̄.
He stroieth my men̄, my londe, my fees.
Thus shalle it not longe goon̄.

And yet me greveth most of alle,
He hath made Ferumbras renay his laye.
Therfore my counselors I calle,
To remedy this, howe thay best maye.

For me were lever that he were slayn̄,
Thane he a Cristen̄ hounde shulde be,
Or witħ Wolfes be rente and slayn̄,
By Mahounde mygħty of dignyte.”

To answerde Sortybraunce and Broulande
And saide “gode counsaile we shal yoᶙ gyfen̄,
If thoue wilte do aftyr covenaunte,
It shal yoᶙ profit, while yoᶙ lyven̄.

Take xij knightis of worthy dede
And sende hem to Charles on message nowe.
A-raye hem welle in roial wede,
For thȳ honour and for thy prowe.

Bidde Charles sende thy sone to the
And voyde thy londe in alle haste,
Or ellis thou shalt him honge on a tre,
As hye, as any shippes maste.”

“Nowe by Mahounde” quod Laban,
“This counseil is both trewe and goode,
I shalle him leve for no man̄
To parforme this, though he wer woode.”

He did his lettris write in haste,
The knightes were called to goo þerwitħ,
That thay hyȝe hem̄ to Charles faste
And charke hym̄ vppon̄ life and lithe.

Fortħ thai ride towarde Mantrible þan̄,
In a medowe, was fayre and grene,
Thai mette witħ Charles messageris ten̄.
Duke Neymes axed hem̄, what thai wolde mene,

And saide “Lordynges, whens come ye?
And whider ye are mente, telle vs this tyde.”
“From̄ the worthy Sowdon̄” than̄ saide he,
“To Charles on message shalle we ride,

Euel tithyngges we shalle him telle,
Fro Laban, that is lorde of Spayne.
Farewele, felowes, we may not dwelle.”
“A-byde” quod Gy “and turne agayne,

We wole speke with yoᶙ, er ye goon̄,
For we be messengeris of his.
Ye shal aby everichone,
So God brynge me to blis.”

Anoon̄ here swerdes oute thay brayde
And smoten̄ down̄ right al a-boute.
Tille the hethen̄ were down̄ layde,
Thai reseyued many a sore cloute.

Thai smyten̄ of here hedes alle,
Eche man̄ toke one in his lappe.
Fal what so euer byfalle,
To the Soudon̄ wole they trappe.

Tille thai come to Egremoure,
Thai stynte for no worldes thinge;
Anone thai fonde the Sawdan̄ thore,
At his mete proudely sittynge,

And þat maide fair Dame Floripas
And xiiij princes of grete price
And kinge Lukafer of Baldas,
Thas was both bolde, hardy and wyse.

Doughty Duke Neymes of Bauer
To the Sowdone his message tolde
And saide “god, þat made heven̄ so cler,
He saue kinge Charles so bolde

And confounde Laban̄ and all his men̄,
That on Mahounde byleved
And gife hem evel endinge! amen̄.
To morue, longe er it be even̄,

He commaundith the vppon̄ thy life
His Nevewes home to him sende,
And the Religes of Rome withoute strife;
And ellis getist thou an evel ende!

xij lurdeynes mette vs on the waye;
Thai saide, thay come streight fro the.
Thai made it botħ stoute and gay;
Here hedis here maistowe see.

Thai saide, thai wolde to Charles goon̄,
Evel tidingges him to telle.
Loo here here heddis euerychone,
Here soulis bene in helle.”

“O” quod Lavane “what may this be,
To suffr this amonge my knightes alle?
To be rebuked thus here of the
At mete in myn owen̄ halle!

To Mahounde myghty I make a vowe,
Ye shall be hanged alle ten,
Anoon as I have eten̄ I-nowe,
In presence of alle my men̄.”

Maide Floripas answered tho
And saide “my derworth Fadir der!
By my counsaile ye shal not so,
Tille ye haue your Barons alle in fer,

That thai may se what is the best,
For to delyuere my brother Sir Ferumbras.
And aftirward, if þat ye liste,
Ye may gife hem ful evel grace.”

“Gramercy, doghter, thou saieste welle,
Take hem alle into thy warde.
Do feter hem faste in Iren̄ and stele
And set hem in strayȝte garde.

Thus was I neuer rebukede er nowe;
Mahounde myghty gyfe hem̄ sorowe!
Thay shalle be flayn and honged on a bowe,
Longe ere tyme to morowe.”

Florip̄ toke these messangeris
And ladde hem vp in-to here tour,
There thai founde two of here feris.
Thay thanked thereof god of honoure.

Tho sayde Duke Neymys of Bauer:
“Gladde men we be nowe here,
To fynde Roulande and Olyuer
In helthe of bodye and of goode cher.”

Thai kissed eche other with herte gladde
And thanked god of his grace;
And eche toolde othir, howe thay sped hadde,
And howe thay come in-to that place

By helpe of mayde Florip̄ hire self,
“God kepe hir in honoure!
For thus hath she brought vs hider alle twelfe,
To dwelle in hir owen̄ boure.”

Tho thay wessh and wente to mete,
And were served welle and fyne
Of suche goode, as she myght gete,
Of Venyson̄, brede and gode wyne.

There thai were gladde and wel at ease;
The Soudon̄ ne wist it noght.
Aftyr thay slepe and toke her ese,
Of no man than̄ thay ne roght.

On the morowe Florip̄, that mayde fre,
To Duke Neymes spake in game:
“Sir gentil knigħt,” tho saide she,
“Telle me, what is your name.”

“Whi axe ye, my lady dere,
My name here to knowe alle?”
“For he spake with so bolde chere
To my Fadir yestirdaye in his halle.

Be not ye the Duke of Burgoyne, sir Gȳ,
Nevewe unto the kinge Charles so fre?”
“Noe, certes, lady, it is not I,
It is yondir knight, þat ye may see.”

“A, him have I loved many a day;
And yet knowe I him noght.
For his loue I do alle that I maye,
To chere yoᶙ witħ dede and thought.

For his love wille I cristenede be
And lefe Mahoundes laye.
Spekith to him nowe for me,
As I yoᶙ truste maye;

And but he wole graunte me his loue,
Of yoᶙ askape shalle none here.
By him, þat is almyghty aboue,
Ye shalle abye it ellis ful dere.”

Tho wente Duke Neymes to Sir Gye
And saide “This ladye lovetħ the,
For thy loue she maketħ us alle merye,
And Baptizede wole she be.

Ye shalle hir take to your wedded wife,
For alle vs she may saue.”
“By God” quod Gye “þat gafe me life,
Hire wole I never haue,

Wyle I neuer take hire ner no woman̄,
But Charles the kinge hir me gife.
I hight him, as I was trewe man̄,
To holden̄ it, while I lyve.”

Tho spake Roulande and Olyuer,
Certyfyinge him of her myschefe,
Tellinge him of the parelles, þat þay in wer,
For to take this lady to his wedded wife.

“But thoᶙ helpe in this nede,
We be here in grete doute.
Almyghty god shalle quyte thy mede,
Elles come we nevere hennys oute.”

Thus thay treted him to and fro;
At the laste he sayde, he wolde.
Floripas thay cleped fortħ tho;
And brought fourth a Cuppe of golde,

Ful of noble myghty wyne,
And saide “my loue and my lorde,
Myn herte, my body, my goode is thyn̄,”
And kissed him witħ that worde,

And “sir” she saide “drinke to me,
As the Gyse is of my londe;
And I shalle drinke agayn̄ to the,
As to my worthy hosbonde.”

Thay clipped and kissed botħ in fere
And made grete Joye and game,
And so did alle, that were ther,
Thai made ful mery alle in same.

Tho spake Floripas to the Barons boolde
And saide “I haue armur I-nowe;
Therfore I tel yoᶙ, what I wolde,
And þat ye dide for your prowe.

To morue, whan̄ my Fadir is at his souper,
Ye shalle come in alle attonys;
Loke ye spare for no fere,
Sle down̄ and breke botħ bake and bones;

Kithe yoᶙ knightis of hardynesse!
Ther is none helpe, but in this wyse,
Then moste ye shewen̄ youre prowes,
And wynne this Castel in this guyse.”

Thai sayden alle, it was welle saide,
And gladde thay were of this counsaile.
Here armur was fortħ layde,
At souper the Sowdon̄ to assaile.

Kinge Lucafere prayde the Sawdon̄,
That he wolde gif him lysence,
To the prisoners for to goon̄,
To see the maner of her presence.

He gafe him lefe, and forth he wente
Vp vnto Floripas Toure.
To asspie the maner was his entent,
Hem̄ to accuse agayne honoure.

Whan̄ he come, he founde the dore fast I-stoke,
He smote there-on with his fist,
That the barr began̄ to broke.
To make debate, wel him list.

“Who artowe” quod Floripas
“Þat maketh her sucħ araye?”
“I am kinge Lucafere of Baldas,
The Sowdon̄ sente me hidir in faye;

To seen̄ his prisoneris is my desire
And speke with hem everychon̄,
To talke with hem by the fire
And speke of dedis of Armes amonge.”

Tho saide Duke Neymes “welcome be ye
To us prisoners here!
What is your wille, nowe telle ye;
For we be men̄ of feble chere.”

“I woolde wete of Charles the kinge,
What man̄ he is in his contre,
And what meyne he hatħ, and of what thinge
He rekyneth moost his dignyte.”

Duke Neymes saide “an Emperoure
And kinge he is of many a londe,
Of Citeis, Castels, and many a Toure,
Dukes, Erles, Barons bowynge to his honde.”

“But saye me, felowe, what is your vse,
To do in contr aftyr the none.
And what is the custome of your hous,
Tille men̄ to souper shalle gone?”

“Sir, somme men̄ iouste witħ sper and shelde,
And somme men̄ Carol and singe gode songes,
Some shote with dartis in the feelde,
And somme play at Chesse amonge.”

“Ye bene but foulis of gode dissporte;
I wole yoᶙ tech a newe play.
Sitte down̄ here by one assorte,
And better myrthe never ye saye.”

He teyde a tredde on a pole
With an nedil ther-on I-fest,
And ther vppon̄ a qwik cole.
He bade every man blowe his blast.

Duke Neymes hade a long berde,
Kinge Lucafer blewe even̄ to hym̄,
That game hade he never before lered.
He brent the her of Neymes berde to the skyne.

Duke Neymes than̄ gan wex wrotħ,
For he hade brente his berde so white
To the Chymneye forth he goth
And caught a bronde him witħ to smyte.

Witħ a goode wille he him smote,
That both his eyen̄ bresten̄ oute.
He caste him in the fire al hote;
For sothe he hadde a rigħt gode cloute.

And with a fyre forke he helde him doune,
Tille he were rosted to colis ilkadele.
His soule hade his god Mahoun̄.
Florip̄ bade him̄ warme him wele.

“Sires” tho saide Floripas,
“Entendith nowe al to me!
This Lucafer of Baldas
Was a lorde of grete mayne.

My Fadir hade him euer yn cher
I telle you for sothe everydele,
He wolde anoon̄ aftyr him enquer,
And therefore loke, ye arme you wel!”

Florip wente in, as the maner was,
To here Fadir at souper tyme.
No man spake worde of kinge Baldas,
Ner no man knewe of his sharp pyne.

The xij peris armed hem wel and fyne
With swerdes drawe and egr chere.
While thay mery drinkyng the wyne
And sittinge alle at here souper.

Thai reheted the Sowdon̄ and his Barons alle
And maden̄ orders wondir fast,
Thai slowe down̄ alle, þat were in the halle,
And made hem wondirly sore a-gast.

Olyvere egerly sued Laban̄
With swerd I-drawe in his honde.
Oute at the wyndowe lepte he þan̄
Vppon̄ the salte see stronde,