Part 8: Lines 2859–3274

Therfore sir, I shal yoᶙ telle,
Howe ye mote governe yoᶙ here.
In yonde wode ye moste dwelle
Priuely in this maner,

And xij of vs shalle vs araye
In gyse of stronge marchauntes,
And fille oure somers withe fog and haye,
To passe the brigge Currauntes.

We shalle be armed vnder the cote
With goode swerdes wele I-gyrde,
We moste paye tribute, wele I wote,
And elles over we may not sterte.

But whan̄ the chaynes be lete down̄
Ouer ther for to passe,
Than wole I, þat ye come on̄,
In haste to that same place.

Whan̄ I see tyme for to come,
Than̄ shalle I my horne blowe.
Loke, ye be redy alle and some,
For that shal ye welle knowe.”

Forth thay wente in þat araye
To Mountrible, that Cite.
Alagolofur to hem̄ gan seye,
“Felawes, wheder wole ye?”

Richarde spake to the geaunte
And saide “towarde the Sowdon̄,
With dyuers chaffer as trewe marchaunte,
We purpose for to goon̄,

To shewen him of pellur and Gryse,
Orfrays of Perse Imperyalle,
We wole the yefe tribute of assaye
To passe by lycence in especyal.”

“Licence gete ye noon̄ of me,
I am charged that noone shal passe,
For x lurdeyns of Fraunce were her;
God yefe hem evell grace!

Thay passed this way to Egramour;
Thay haue done the Sowdon̄ grete tene,
Thay have wonne his toure and his tresour,
And yet holde thai it, I wene.

Wherfor, felawes, I arest yoᶙ alle,
Tille I knowe, what þat ye bene.”
Sire Focarde brayde oute his swerde witħ-alle,
Wel sore he gan to tene

And saide “fye on̄ the Sarasyne!
For alle thy grete harde hede
Shaltow never drinke water ner wyne,
By god! thou shalte be dede.”

He smote at him witħ egre chere
But he gafe thereof right nought.
“Alas” quod Richard “thou combrest vs her,
By god, that me der hatħ boghte.”

The cheynes yet wer alle faste,
The geaunte wexe nere wode,
Richard blewe his horne in haste,
That was both shrille and goode.

Kinge Charles hied him anoon̄
Towarde the brigge so longe;
The Geaunte faught with hem̄ alone,
He was so harde and stronge.

With a Clog of an̄ Oke he faugħt,
That was wele bound with stele.
He slough al þat ever he raugħt,
So stronge was his dinte to dele.

Richard raught him witħ a barr of bras,
That he caught at the gate.
He brake his legges, he cryed “alas”
And felle alle chek-mate.

Loude than̄ gan̄ he to yelle;
Thay herde him yelle througħ þat Cite,
Like the grete develle of helle,
And saide “Mahounde, nowe helpe me!”

iiij men him caught ther,
So hevy he was and longe,
And cast him ouer in-to the river.
Chese he, whither he wolde swymme or gong!

Anoon̄ thay brast the Chaynes alle,
That ouer the brigge were I-drawe.
The Saresyns ronnen̄ to the walle,
Many Cristen̄ men were ther I-slawe.

Than came forth Dam barrok, the bolde,
With a sithe large and kene,
And mewe a-down̄ as þikke as shepe in folde,
That came byforne hir by-dene.

This Barrok was a geaunesse,
And wife she was to Astragote,
She did the Cristen̄ grete distresse,
She felled downe alle þat she smote.

There durst no man hire sithe abyde,
She grenned like a develle of helle.
Kinge Charles with a quarel þat tide
Smote hir, that she lowde gan̄ yelle,

Euer the founte througħ-oute the brayn̄;
That cursede fende fille down̄ dede.
Many a man hade she there slayn̄,
Might she never aftyr ete more brede!

Charles entred in the firste warde
With xv knightis and no moo;
Of hym his oste toke no garde,
He wende his oste hade entred also.

The Sarysyns ronne to the gate,
And shet it wonder faste.
Charles men̄ come to late;
Tho was Charles sore agaste.

Betwene two wardes he was shit,
Defende he him if he can̄!
The Sarysyns with him thay mette,
Grete parel was he in than̄.

Tho Genelyne saie, the kinge was inne
And the yates faste I-stoke,
Ther myght no man̄ to him wynne,
So was he faste witħ-inne I-loke,

To his frendes he gan speke
And saide “the kinge is dede,
And alle xij peres eke.
On peyne” said he “to lese myn hede,

Let vs hye to Fraunce warde!
For I wele be crownede kinge,
I shalle yoᶙ alle wele rewarde,
For I wole spare for no thinge.”

Anoon̄ thay assented to Genelyne,
Thay saugh, ther was no better rede.
The Frenssh men̄ drewe hem̄ al ayene,
Thay wende the kinge hade bene dedde.

Tho Ferumbras witħ his meyne than̄
Came for to seke the kinge,
And saugh hem turne euery man̄;
Him thought, it was a wondir thing.

“Where is the kinge?” quod Ferumbras.
Quod Genelyne “with-in the walle,
Shaltowe neuer more seen̄ his face!”
“God gyf the an̄ yvel falle!

Turne agayne, thoᶙ traytoure!
And helpe to reskowe thy lorde.
And ye, sires, alle for your honour!”
Thay turned agayne with that worde.

Ferumbras with axe in honde,
Myghtyly brake up the gate,
Ther myght laste him noon̄ yron̄ bonde,
He hade ner-honde I-come to late.

The kinge hadde fought so longe witħ-ynne,
That onnethe myght he no more.
Many ther were abouten̄ him,
His men̄ were wounded ful sore.

Ferumbras came with gode spede,
He made the Sarasyns to fle.
He reskowed the kinge at his nede,
XL Sarasyns sone killed he.

Thai ronnen a-weye by every side,
Thai durste nowher rowte.
In shorte tyme was falled her pride,
Thay caught many a sore cloute.

That Cite was wonne that same daye,
And every tour ther-ynne
Of Mountreble, þat was so gaye,
For alle her soubtile gynne,

Fulle of tresour and richesse,
Of Siluer and goolde and perr,
And clothes of goolde, wroght of Saresynes,
Of riche aray and roialte.

Richarde, Duke of Normandy,
Founde ij Children of .vij. monþes oolde,
xiiij fote longe wer thay,
Thay wer Barrakes sonnes so boolde;

Bygote thay wer of Astragot.
Grete joye the kinge of hem hade.
Hethen̄ thay wer botħ, wele I wote,
Therfore hem̄ to be cristenede he bade.

He called þat one of hem Roulande,
And that other he cleped Olyuer:
“For thai shalle be myghty men of honde.”
To kepen̄ hem, he was fulle chere.

Thay myght not leve, her Dam was dede;
Thai coude not kepe hem fortħ.
Thai wolde neyþer ete butter nere brede,
Ner no men̄ was to hem worthe.

Her Dammes mylke they lakked ther,
Thay deyden for defaute of here dam.
Kinge Charles made hevy cher,
And a sory man̄ was than.

The kinge lete ordeyne anoon̄,
The Cite to be gouerned
Of the worthyest of hem̄ ychon̄,
That weren of werr best lerned.

Duke Richarde of Normandy,
He was made chief gouernour;
And ij C with him in hys company
To kepe the brigge and tour.

Fortħ he rode to laban̄ than̄,
With his Ooste and Sir Ferumbras.
A spye to the Sowdon̄ fast ran
And tolde him al that cas,

How Charles was come with his ost,
And Mountrible hade he wonne,
“Alagolofur slayn̄ is for alle his bost,
This game was evel begon̄.”

Whane laban herde of his comynge,
Him thought his herte gan breke.
“Shalle I never be withoute moornynge,
Tille I of him be wreke.”

He commaunded to blowe his Claryons
To assemble alle his Ooste.
His counsaile to him he lete calle
And tolde, how kinge Charles was in þat coost,

Hadde wonne Mountrible and slayn̄ his men
“And dishirytħ to disheryte me,
And proudely manessith me to fleen̄,
Or drive me oute of this contre.

Me mervaylythe moch of his pride.
By Mahounde, moost of mygħt!
Ye and my sone withe him doth ride,
To the develle I hem bedigħt.

But I be venget of hem both
And honge hem̄ on a tree,
To myghty Mahounde I make myne othe,
Shalle I never Joyfulle be.

Therfore I charge yoᶙ in alle wyse
That thay be taken or slayn̄.
Thane shalle I pynne heme at my gyse
And don̄ hem alle qwike be flayn̄.”

On the morowe, whan it was day,
Kinge Charles was in the felde,
Byfore Agremour in riche aray
On stede witħ sper and sheelde.

Floripe lay on the tour on̄ hye
And knewe the baner of Fraunce.
To Roulande she gan faste crye
Tidynges of goode chaunce:

“Kinge Charles is comen and Ferumbras,
Here baners botħ I do see,
With alle her oste yonder in þat place;
Welcome to vs thay alle be.”

Roulande and Olyuere
Arayed hem for to ride;
And here felawes alle in fer,
To Charles thay gon̄ that tyde.

Laban come forth with his mayne,
Saresyns, that were ful felle,
Turkes, Indens, and Arabye
Ye and of the Ethiopes like the develes of helle.

There were stronge wardes sette
By ordynaunce of dyuers batayle.
Whan thay to geder were met,
Eythir othir sore gan̄ assayle.

Ther were Saresyns al to-hewe;
Roulande sloughe many one.
Thay lay so thikke dede on rewe,
That onneþe myghte men ride or goon̄.

Kinge Charles met with Laban̄
And bare him down̄ of his stede,
He lighted down̄ and ceased him than̄,
He thought to qwite him his mede.

He brayde oute Mown̄joye wytħ gode wille
And wolde have smeten of his hede,
Ferumbras prayde him to abyde stille,
To crysten̄ him, er he wer dede.

The Saresyns saughe Laban take,
Thay fledden̄ away fulle faste.
Lenger durste thay no maistryes make,
Thai were so sore agaste.

The Cristen̄ hem chased to and fro,
As a grehounde doth the hare.
.iij. c. ascaped with moche woo,
To Belmore gan thay far.

Kinge Charles ladde Laban̄
In-to Agremour Cite.
And whan̄ þat he ther came
A ful sory man was he.

His doghter welcomed him
With right gode cher.
He loked on hir al grymme,
As he wode wroth wer,

And saide “fye on the, stronge hore,
Mahounde confounde the!”
Charles saide “here-of no more,
But let us nowe mery be!”—

“Sir” she saide thanne,
“Welcome ye be into this tour!
Here I presente to you, as I can,
Relikes of grete honour,

That were at Rome I-wonnen̄
And broght into this halle.
That game was evel bygonnen̄,
It sithen rewed us alle.”

Kinge Charles kneled adown̄
To kisse the Relikes so goode,
And badde ther an̄ oryson̄
To that lorde, þat deyde on̄ rode.

And þanked Floripe witħ al his herte,
That she hade saued his meyne
And holpe hem oute of peynes smerte
And kepte the Relekes so fre.

Kinge Charles did calle bisshope Turpyn̄
And bade him ordeyne a grete fat,
To baptyse the Sowdon̄ yne;
“And loke what he shalle hat.

Unarme him faste and bringe him ner,
I shal his godfader be.
Fille it fulle of water cler,
For Baptysed shalle he be.

Make him naked as a Childe,
He moste plunge ther-inne.
For now most he be meke and mylde,
And I-wassh awaye his synne.”

Turpyn toke him by the honde
And ladde him to the fonte.
He smote the bisshope witħ a bronde
And gaf him an evel bronte.

He spitted in the water cler
And cryed oute on hem alle,
And defied alle þat cristen̄ wer.
That foule mote him by-falle!

“Ye and thoᶙ, hore serpentyne,
And that fals cursed Ferumbras,
Mahounde gyfe hem botħ evel endyng,
And almyghty Sathanas!

By you came all my sorowe,
And al my tresure for-lorne.
Honged be ye both er tomorowe!
In cursed tyme were ye born̄.”

Ferumbras saide to the kinge,
“Sir, ye see, it wole not be,
Lete him take his endynge,
For he loueth not Cristyante.”

“Duke Neymes” quod Charles tho,
“Loke þat execucion̄ be don̄,
Smyte of his hedde! god gyfe him woo!
And goo we to mete anoone.”

It was done as the kinge commaunde,
His soule was fet to helle,
To daunse in þat sory lande
With develes, þat wer ful felle.

Dame Florip was Baptysed than̄
And here maydyns alle,
And to Sir Gye I-maryed.
The Barons honoured hir alle.

Alle the londe of Spayne
Kinge Charles gyfe hem̄ two,
To departe bitwyxt hem twayne,
Ferumbras and Gȳ also.

And so thay livede in ioye and game,
And brethern̄ both thay wer,
In pees and werr both I-same,
Ther durste no man̄ hem der.

Kinge Charles turned home agayn̄
Towarde his contre,
He charged Sir Bryer of Bretayne
His tresourer for to be:

To kepe the Relikes of grete pris
And his other tresour,
And bringe hem safe to Parys,
There to a-bide in store.

He saide “farewell, Sir Ferumbras,
Ye and Gye, my dere frende!
And thy wyf Dame Floripas!
For to Fraunce nowe wole I wende.

Be ye togeder as brethern̄ botħ!
No man̄ ye neditħ to drede,
Be ye nevere to-gedere wrotħ,
But eyther helpe othir at his nede.

Vysityth me, whan̄ ye haue space;
In-to Fraunce makitħ your disporte,
God wole you sende the better grace,
In age to do me comforte.”

Thai toke leve of the kinge,
With ful hevy cher,
And turned agayn̄ botħ mornynge,
With wepynge water cler.

Kinge Charles with the victory
Sailed to Mounpeleres,
And thanked almyghty god in glorye,
That he hade saued his Dosiperes,

And fende him of the Saresynes
The hyer honde to have,
For alle here strenghe and her Engynes
The Relikes of Rome to saue.

At oure lady of Parys
He offred the Crosse so fre;
The Crown̄ he offred at seynte Denyse,
At Boloyne the nayles thre.

Alle his Barons of him wer gladd,
Thai gafe him grete presente.
For he so wele hade I-spedde,
Thay did him grete reuerence.

The kinge hade wel in mynde
The tresone of Genelyne,
Anoon̄ for him he dide sende
To yefe him an evel fyne:

“Thou traitour unkynde” quod the kynge,
“Remembrist thoᶙ not how ofte
Thou hast me betrayed, þou fals Genelyne?
Therfore thoue shalt be honged on lofte!—

Loke that the execucion̄ be don̄,
That throgh Parys he be drawe,
And honged on hye on mount Fawcon̄,
As longeth to traytoures by lawe;

That alle men shall take hede,
What deth traytourys shal fele,
That assente to such falshede,
Howe the wynde here bodyes shal kele.”

Thus Charles conquered Laban̄,
The Sowdon̄ of Babyloyne,
That riche Rome stroyed and wan̄
And alle the brode londe of Spayn̄.

. . . . . .and of his Barons
. . . . . . .his pride
. . . . . . . .eligons
. . . . . . . .þat tyde

. . . . . . .on Charles soule
. . . . . . .s also
. . . . . . .Peter and Poule
God lete hem never wete of woo!

But brynge here soules to goode reste!
That were so worthy in dede.
And gyf vs ioye of the beste,
That of here gestes rede!