Part II: Stanzas 41–78

Forthe sche browght a whyt sted,
As whyt as the flowyr in~ med,
Ys fytte blac ase slon.
‘Leman~, haue here thys fole,
That dethe ys dynt schalt þou not thole,
Whyƚƚ thow settyste hyme appon~,
And yf thow had persewyd be
And hadyst ned fore to fle,
Fast for to gone.
The kyng of Nazareth sent hym me,
Torrent, I wet-saffe hym on the,
For better love may I none.’

Aftyr-ward vppon a tyd,
Ase the went be the watyres syd,
The kyng and yong Torrent,
The kyng wold fayne, that he ded wer~,
And he wyst, in~ what maner~,
How he schuld be schent;
A false lettyr mad the kyng
And dyd messengyres forthe yt bryng,
On the Rever~, ase they went,
To Torrent, that was trew ase styƚƚ,
Yf he love Desoneƚƚ wyƚƚ,
Get her a facon~ jent.

Torrent the letter be-gan~ to Red,
The kyng lestyned & nere yed,
Ase he yt nevyr ad sene.
‘Syr,’ he seyd, ‘what may thys be,
Loo, lord, come ner~ and see,
A-bowght a facon~ schene?
I ne wot, so god me sped,
In what lond that they bred.’
The kyng answerd: ‘I wene,
In the forrest of Mavdeleyn~,
Ther be hawkes, ase I herd seyne,
That byn of lenage clen~.’

And than seyd the kyng on-trew:
‘Yf thow get hawkys of gret valew,
Bryng on of them to me!’
Torrent Seyd: ‘So god me saue,
Yf yt be-tyd, that I may haue,
At yowr wyƚƚ they schal be.’
Hys squyere bode he thar~,
Aftyr hys armor~ for to far~,
In the fyld byddythe he.
They armyd hym in~ hys wed,
Tho he be-strod a noble sted,
And forthe than Rod hee.

Torrent toke the wey a-geyn~
In to the forest of Mawdleyn~,
In the wyld-some way;
Berys and apes there founde he,
And wylde bestys great plente,
And lyons where they lay.
In a wod that wase tyght,
Yt Drew nere-hand nyght
By dymmynge of the Day,
Harkyn, lordes, to them came wo,
He and hys squyer~ partyd in two,
Carfuƚƚ men then were they.

At the schedyng of a Rome
Eche partyd other frome,
For sothe, ase I vndyrstond.
Torrent toke a dulful wey
Downe in~ a depe valey
Be-syd a weƚƚ strong.
A lytyƚƚ be fore mydnyght
Of a dragon he had syght,
That grysly wase to fond;
He had hym nowght to were,
But hys schyld and hys spere,
That wase in~ hys squyeres hond.

Torrent knelyd on hys kne,
To Iesu Cryst prayd he:
‘Lord, mykyƚƚ of myght,
Syne I wase in~ meche care,
Let me nevuyr~ owt of thys world far~,
Tyƚƚ I haue take order of knyght.
Ase I ame falsely hether~ sent,
Wyld-som weyes haue I went,
With fyndes for to fyght.
Now, Iesu, for thy holy name,
Ase I ame but man~ a-lone,
Than~ be my helpe to nyght!’

Ase Torrent Iesu gan~ pray,
He herd the dragon~, ther he lay
Vndyr-nethe a clow;
Of and on he wase stronge,
Hys tayle wase VII yerdes long,
That aftyr hyme he drowe;
Hys wyngges wase long and wyght,
To the chyld he toke a flyght
With an howge swowe;
Had he nether~ schyld ne spere,
But prayd to god, he schold hyme were,
For he wase in dred i-nowe.

On the tayle an hed ther~ wase,
That byrnyd Bryght as anny glase,
In fyer whan yt was dyght;
A-bowght the schyld he lappyd yt ther~,
Torrent the bowght a-sondyr schere
Thurrow the grace of god almyght.
As the boke of Rome tellys,
Of hys taylle he cut IIII elles
With hys swerd so bryght.
Than cryed the lothely thyng,
That aƚƚ the daƚƚ be-gan to Ryng,
That hard the gyant wyght.

The gyant seyd: ‘I vndyrstond,
There ys sum crystyn~ man~ nere hond,
My dragon here I cry.
By hym, that schope bothe watyr~ and lond,
Aƚƚ that I can se be-fore me stond,
Dere schaƚƚ they a-bye!
Me thynkythe, I here my dragon~ schowt,
I deme, ther be svme dowghtty man~ hym a-bowght,
I trow, to long I ly.
Yf I dweƚƚ in my pyƚƚ of ston~,
And my cheff-foster were gone,
A false mayster were I!’

Be the gyant wase Redy dyght,
Torrent had slayne the dragon~ Ryght;
Thus gan god hyme scheld.
To the mownteyne he toke the wey
To Rest hyme, aƚƚ that day,
He had myster, to be kyld.
Tyƚƚ the day be-gan to spryng,
Fowllys gan myrre to syng
Bothe in~ frethe and in feld.
Leve we now of Torrent thore
And speke we of thys squyer~ more:
Iesu hys sole fro heƚƚ shyld!

Hys squyer~ Rod aƚƚ nyght
In a wod, that wase fuƚƚ tyght,
With meche care and gret fare,
For to seke hys lord Torrent,
That wyghtly wase frome hyme sent,
And he wyst nevyr~ whethyr ne whar~.
He Durst neuyr~ cry ne schuot,
For wyld bestes were hym a-bowght
In~ the holttes hare;
A lytyl whyƚƚ be-fore the day
He toke in~ to a Ryde-wey
Hyme self to meche care.

Forthe he Rod, I vndyrstond,
Tyƚƚ he an hey wey fond,
With-owtyn~ any Delite,
Also fast ase he myght fare,
Fore berrys and apys, þat ther ware,
Lest they wold hym byght.
The sone a-Rose and schone bryght,
Of a castyƚƚ he had a syght,
That wase bothe feyer~ and whyte . . . .

The gyant him se, & ny yed,
And seyd: ‘Fellow, so god me sped,
Thow art welcom to me:
What dost thow here in my forest?’
‘Lord, to seke an hawkys nest,
Yff yt yowr wyl be.’
‘The be-hovythe to ley a wede.’
To an oke he hym led:
Gret Ruthe yt wase to se.
In IIII quarteres he hym drowe,
And euery quarter vppon a bowe;
Lord, soche weys toke hee!

Ase Torrent in~ the movnteyn~ dyd ly,
Hym thowght, he hard a Reufuƚƚ cry;
Gret fere ther hyme thowght.
‘Seynt Marre,’ seyd the chyld so fre,
‘Wher euyr~ my jentyƚƚ squyer~ myght be,
That I with me to wod browght?
On he dyd hys harnes a-geyne
And worthe on hys sted, serteyne,
And thetherward he sowght.
And wot yow wyƚƚ, I vndyrstond,
In fowre quartyres he hym fownd,
For other wyse wase yt nowght.

The gyant lenyd to a tre
And be-hyld Torrent so free,
For sothe, ase I yow seye.
Thys fend wase ferly to fyght,
Rochense, seythe the boke, he hyght,
Ther wase a dredfuƚƚ fraye.
To the chyld than~ gan he smyght:
‘A theff, yeld the asttyt,
As fast as thow may!’
‘What,’ seyd Torrent, ‘art thow wood?
God, that Dyed on the Rood,
Geff the evyƚƚ happe thys day!’

He Rawght Torrent soche a Rowght,
Hys steddes brayne he smot owte,
So mykyƚƚ he be-gan~.
Torrent tho a good sped
Ase fast a-bowte an eche yede;
Ase swefte ase he myght, he Ran.
He gathyred svm of hys gere,
Bothe hys schyld and hys spere;
Nere hym yod he than~.
Bacward than be a browȝ
Twenty fote he gard hyme goo,
Thus erthe on hym he wane.

Yt solasyd Torrant then~,
When he sawe hyme bacward ren
Downe be a movnteyn~ of Perowne,
Stomlyng thurrow frythe and fen~,
Tyƚƚ he com to a depe glen,
Ther myght non hym stere.
Torrent wase glad and folowyd fast,
And hys spere on hyme he brast,
Good Adyloke yed hyme nere.
The fynd in~ the watyr stod,
He fawte a-geyn, ase he were wod,
Aƚƚ þe day in~ fere.

Tho nere hond wase the day gone,
Torrent wase so werry than~
That on hys kne he kneld:
‘Helpe, god, that aƚƚ may!
Desoneƚƚ, haue good day!’
Fro hym he cest hys schyld.
Iesu wold not, he were slayne,
To hym he sent a schowyr~ of Rayne,
Torrent fuƚƚ wyƚƚ yt keld.
The fynd saw, he wase ny mate,
Owt of the watyr he toke the gate,
He thowght to wyne the fyld.

Thoo wase Torrent ffresse and good;
Nere the fynd sore he stod,
Cryst hym saue and see!
The fynd fawt with an yron~ staff,
The fyrst stroke, to hym he gaffe,
He brast hys schyld on thre.
Torrent vndyr hys staff Rane,
To the hart he baryd hym than~,
And lothely cry gane he.
To the grownd he feƚƚ ase tyght,
And Torrent gan hys hed of-smyght,
And thus he wynnythe the gre.

Torrent knelyd on the grownd
And thankyd god þat ylke stownd,
That soche grace hyme send.
Thus II journeys in thys woo
With hys handes slow he gyantys too,
That meny a man~ hathe schent.
Torrent forthe frome hyme þan yod,
And met hyme XXIIII fotte,
Ther he lay on the bent.
Hedles he left hym there,
Howt of the fyld the hed he bare
And to the casteƚƚ he went.

To thys casteƚƚ he gan far~;
Ther fond he armor~ and other~ gare,
A swerd, that wase bryght.
To the towre he toke the wey,
Ther the gyantes bed lay,
That Rychyly wase dyght.
At the beddes hed he fond
A swerd, worthe an Erllys lond,
That meche wase of myght.
On the pomeƚƚ yt wase wret,
Fro a prynce yt wase get,
Mownpolyardnus he hyght.

The sarten to sey with-owt lese,
A scheff-chambyr~ he hym ches,
Tyƚƚ on the morrow day.
To the stabuƚƚ tho he yed,
There he fond a nobyƚƚ sted,
Wase comely whyt and grey.
The gyanttes hed gan he take,
And the dragonnys wold he not forsake,
And went forthe on hys wey.
He left mor~ good in that sale
Than wase with in~ aƚƚ Portynggaƚƚ,
Ther ase the gyant laye.

Tho he Rod bothe Day and nyght,
Tyƚƚ he come to a casteƚƚ bryght,
Ther ys lord gan dweƚƚ.
The kyng ys gone to the gate,
Torrent on kne he fond ther at,
Schort taƚƚ for to teƚƚ.
‘Haue thow thys in~ thyn~ hond:
No nother hawkys ther I fond
At Mawdlenys weƚƚ.’
The kyng quod: ‘Ase so haue I blyse,
Torrent, I trow, sybbe ys
To the deweƚƚ of heƚƚ! . . . .

‘Here be syd dwellythe won on lond,
Ther ys no knyght, hys dynt may stond,
So stronge he ys in dede!’
‘Syr~,’ he sayd, ‘fore sen Iame,
What ys the gyantes name,
So Euyr good me sped?’
‘Syr~,’ he seyd, ‘so mvt I the,
Slogus of Fuolles, thus hyte hee,
That wyt ys vndyr wede.’ . . . . . .

Lytyƚƚ and mykyƚƚ, lese and more,
Wondyr on the heddes thore,
That Torrent had browght whome.
The Lordes seyd ‘Be sen Myheƚƚ!
Syr kyng, but ye love hyme wyƚƚ,
To yow yt ys gret schame!’
Torent ordeynyd prystes fyve,
To syng for hys squyerys lyve,
And menythe hym by name.
Therfor~ the lady whyt ase swane
To Torrant, here lord, sche went than~,
Here hert wase to hyme tane.

Lettyrres come ther withalle
To the kyng of Portynggaƚƚ,
To ax hys dowghttyr Derre,
Fro the kyng of Eragon~,
To wed her~ to hys yongeest son~,
The lady, that ys so clere.
For Torrent schuld not her~ haue,
For hyme fyrst he here gafe,
To the messenger~,
And hys way fast ageyn dyd pase,
Whyle Torrent an huntyng wase,
Ther of schuld he not be were.

On a mornyng, ther ase he lay,
The kyng to the quene gan sey:
‘Madame, for cherryte,
Thow art oftyn~ hold wyse;
Now woƚƚ ye teƚƚ me yowr deuyce,
How I may governe me:
The Ryche kyng hathe to me sent,
For to aske my dowghttyr gente
That ys so feyer~ and fre.’
‘Syr,’ sche Seyd, ‘so god me saue,
I Red yow let Torent her haue,
For best worthy ys he.’

He sayd: ‘Madame, were that feyer~,
To make an erlles sone myn Eyer~?
I wiƚƚ not, by sen Iame!
There he hathe done maystres thre,
Yt ys hys swerd, yt ys not he,
For Hatheloke ys ys name.’
‘Lord, he myght fuƚƚ wyƚƚ sped,
A knyghtes dowghttyr wase hyme bed,
Ase whyt ase walles bane;
And yf ye warne hyme Desoneƚƚ,
All that ther of here teƚƚ,
Ther of wyƚƚ speke schame.’

‘Madam, vnto thys tyd
There lythe a gyant here be-syd,
That many a man~ hathe slayne.
I schaƚƚ hyght hym my dowghttyr~ dere,
To fyght with that fyndes fere,
Thus he holdythe hyme in~ trayne.
But I schaƚƚ make myn commnant so,
That there schaƚƚ non with hyme go,
Neyther squyer~ ne swayne.’
‘Syr~,’ sche seyd, ‘so mvt I the,
So sore be-stad hathe he be,
And wyƚƚ commyn~ a-geyne!’

Tho the belles be-gan to Ryng,
Vpe Rose that Ryche kyng,
And the lady so fre,
And aftyr-ward they went to mase,
Ase the law of holy chyrge wase,
With notes and solemnyte.
Trompettys on the waƚƚ gan blowe,
Knyghtes semlyd on a Rowe,
Gret joy wase to see.
Torrent a syd bord began~,
The squyeres nexte hym than,
That good knyghtes schuld be.

Ase they sat a-myddes the mete,
The kyng wold not foreget;
To Torrent the kyng gan sey,
He seyd: ‘Torrent, so god me saue,
Thow woldes fayne my dowghttyr haue
And hast lovyd her~ many a day.’
‘Ye, be trouthe,’ seyd Torrent than~,
‘And yf þat I were a Ryche man~,
Ryght gladly, par ma fay!’
‘Yf thow durst for her sake
A poynt of armys vndyrtake,
Thow broke her~ weƚƚ fore ay!’

‘Ye,’ seyd Torrent, ‘ar I ga,
Sekyrnes ye schaƚƚ me ma
Of yowr dowghttyr hend,
And aftyrward my ryghtys,
Be-fore XXVII knyghtes.’ . . . . . .
And aƚƚ were Torrentes frende.
‘Now, good seris,’ gan Torrant sey,
‘Bere wittnes her of som Daye,
A-geyne yf god me send!’

Torrent seyd: ‘So mvt I the
Wyst I, where my jorney schold be,
Thether I wolde me dyght.’
The kyng gaff hyme an answere:
‘In the lond of Calabur ther~
Wonnythe a gyant wyhte,
And he ys bothe strong and bold,
Slochys he hyght, I the told,
God send the that waye Ryght!’
Than quod Torrent: ‘Haue good day,
And, or I come a-geyn~, I schaƚƚ asay,
Whether the fynd can fyght.’

Tho wold he no lenger~ a-byde,
He toke ys wey for to Ryde
On a sted of gret valewe.
In to a chambyr~ he gas,
Hys leue of Desoneƚƚ he tas,
Sche wepte, aƚƚ men myght Rewe;
He seyd: ‘Lady, be styƚƚ!
I schaƚƚ come a-geyn the tyƚƚ,
Thurrow helpe of Marry trewe.’
Thus he worthe on a stede.
In hys wey Cryst hyme sped,
Fore he yt no thyng knewe!

He toke hym a Redy wey,
Thurrow Pervyns he toke the wey,
As hys Iorney feƚƚ.
Tyƚƚ the casteƚƚ Be the See,
An hy stret heldythe hee,
Ther the kyng dyd dwelle.
To the porter he gan seye:
‘Wynd in~, fellow, I the pray,
And thy lord than teƚƚ,
Pray hym, on won nyght in~ hys sale
To harburrow Torrent of Portynggaƚƚ,
Yf yt Bee ys wiƚƚ!’

The porter~ Dyd hys commandment,
To the kynge he ys wente
And knelyd vppon~ ys kne:
‘God blyse þe, lord, In thy sale!
Torrent of Portynggale
Thus sendythe me to the;
He praythe yow, yf ye myght,
To harburrow hym thys won~ nyght,
Yf yowr wiƚƚ yt bee.’
The kyng swere be hym, þat dyed on tre:
‘There ys no man~ in~ crystyante
More welcome to me!’

The kyng a-Rose and to the gat yod,
Lordes and other~ knyghtes good,
That were glad of hys commyng.
In to the hale he hyme browght,
Ryche met spare they nowght,
Be-fore Torrent fore to bryng.
‘Syr,’ sayd the kyng, ‘I pray the,
Where be thy men off armys free,
That with the schuld leng?’
‘Syr, to a lord I mvst Ryde,
My squyer hongythe be my syde,
No man schaƚƚ with me wend.’