Classic Poem

In the monethe of Maye when mirthes bene fele,
And the sesone of somere when softe bene the wedres,
Als I went to the wodde my werdes to dreghe,
Into the schawes myselfe a schotte me to gete
At ane hert or ane hynde, happen as it myghte;
And as Dryghtyn the day drove frome the heven,
Als I habade one a banke be a bryme syde,
There the gryse was grene, growen with floures,
The primrose, the pervynke, and piliole the riche,
The dewe appon dayses donkede full faire,
Burgons and blossoms and braunches full swete,
And the mery mystes full myldely gane falle;
The cukkowe, the cowschote, kene were thay bothen,
And the throstills full throly threpen in the bankes,
And iche foule in that frythe faynere than other
That the derke was done and the daye lightenede
Hertys and hyndes one hillys thay gouen,
The foxe and the filmarte thay flede to the erthe;
The hare hurkles by hawes and harde thedir dryves,
And ferkes faste to hir fourme and fatills hir to sitt.
Als I stode in that stede one stalkynge I thoghte:
Bothe my body and my bowe I buskede with leves,
And turnede towardes a tree and tariede there a while.
And als I lokede to a launde a littill me besyde,
I seghe ane hert with ane hede, ane heghe for the nones:
Alle unburneschede was the beme, full borely the mydle,
With iche feetur as thi fote, forfrayed in the greves,
With auntlers one aythere syde egheliche longe.
The ryalls full richely raughten frome the myddes,
With surryals full semely appon sydes twayne;
And he assommet and sett of six and of fyve,
And therto borely and brode and of body grete,
And a coloppe for a kynge, cache hym who myghte.
Bot there sewet hym a sorwe that servet hym full yerne,
That woke and warned hym when the wynde faylede,
That none so sleghe in his slepe with sleghte scholde hym dere,
And went the wayes hym byfore when any wothe tyde.
My lyame than full lightly lete I doun falle,
And to the bole of a birche my berselett I cowchide;
I waitted wiesly the wynde by waggynge of leves,
Stalkede full stilly no stikkes to breke,
And crepite to a crabtre and coverede me therundere.
Then I bende up my bowe and bownede me to schote,
Tighte up my tylere and taysede at the hert.
Bot the sowre that hym sewet sett up the nese,
And wayttede wittyly abowte and wyndide full yerne.
Then I moste stonde als I stode and stirre no fote ferrere,
For had I myntid or movede or made any synys,
Alle my layke hade bene loste that I hade longe wayttede.
Bot gnattes gretely me grevede and gnewen myn eghne;
And he stotayde and stelkett and starede full brode,
Bot at the laste he loutted doun and laughte till his mete,
And I hallede to the hokes and the hert smote.
And happenyd that I hitt hym byhynde the lefte scholdire,
That the blode braste owte appon bothe the sydes;
And he balkede and brayed and bruschede thurgh the greves,
As alle had hurlede one ane hepe that in the holte longede.
And sone the sowre that hym sewet resorte to his feris,
And thay, forfrayede of his fare, to the fellys thay hyen,
And I hyede to my hounde and hent hym up sone,
And louset my lyame and lete hym umbycaste.
The breris and the brakans were blody byronnen;
And he assentis to that sewte and seches hym aftire
There he was crepyde into a krage and crouschede to the erthe.
Dede als a dore-nayle doun was he fallen;
And I hym hent by the hede and heryett hym uttire,
Turned his troches and tachede thaym into the erthe,
Kest up that keuduart and kutt of his tonge,
Brayde owte his bewells my bereselet to fede.
And I slitte hym at the assaye to see how me semyde,
And he was floreschede full faire of two fyngere brede.
I chese to the chawylls chefe to begynn,
And ritte doun at a rase reghte to the tayle,
And than the herbere anone aftir I makede;
I raughte the righte legge byfore, ritt it theraftir.
And so fro legge to legge I lepe thaym aboute;
And the felle fro the fete fayre I departede,
And flewe it doun with my fiste faste to the rigge.
I tighte owte my trenchore and toke of the scholdirs,
Cuttede corbyns bone and keste it awaye.
I slitte hym full sleghely and slyppede in my fyngere,
Lesse the poynte scholde perche the pawnche or the guttys;
I soughte owte my sewet and semblete it togedire,
And pullede oute the pawnche and putt it in an hole.
I grippede owte the guttes and graythede thaym besyde,
And than the nombles anone name I thereaftire;
Rent up fro the rygge reghte to the myddis,
And then the fourches full fayre I fonge fro the sydes,
And chynede hym chefely and choppede of the nekke,
And the hede and the haulse homelyde in sondree.
The fete of the fourche I feste thurgh the sydis,
And hevede all into ane hole and hidde it with ferne,
With hethe and with horemosse hilde it about,
That no fostere of the fee scholde fynde it theraftir;
Hid the hornes and the hede in ane hologhe oke,
That no hunte scholde it hent ne have it in sighte.
I foundede faste therefro for ferde to be wryghede,
And sett me oute one a syde to see how it chevede
To wayte it frome wylde swyne that wyse bene of nesse.
And als I satte in my sette the sone was so warme,
And I for slepeles was slome and slomerde a while.
And there me dremed in that dowte a full dreghe swevynn,
And whate I seghe in my saule the sothe I schall telle.

I seghe thre thro men threpden full yerne,
And moted of myche-whate and maden thaym full tale.
And ye will, ledys, me listen ane hande-while,
I schall reken thaire araye redely for sothe,
And to yowe neven thaire names naytly thereaftire.
The firste was a ferse freke, fayrere than thies othire,
A bolde beryn one a blonke bownne for to ryde,
A hathelle on ane heghe horse with hauke appon hande
He was balghe in the breste and brode in the scholdirs,
His axles and his armes were iliche longe,
And in the medill als a mayden menskfully schapen,
Longe legges and large, and lele for to schewe.
He streghte hym in his sterapis and stode uprightes;
He ne hade no hode ne no hatte bot his here one,
A chaplet one his chefelere chosen for the nones,
Raylede alle with rede rose, richeste of floures,
With trayfoyles and trewloves of full triede perles,
With a chefe charebocle chosen in the myddes.
He was gerede alle in grene, alle with golde bywevede,
Enbroddirde alle with besanttes and beralles full riche;
His colere with calsydoynnes clustrede full thikke,
With many dyamandes full dere dighte one his sleves.
The semys with saphirs sett were full many,
With emeraudes and amatistes appon iche syde,
With full riche rubyes raylede by the hemmes;
The price of that perry were worthe powndes full many.
His sadill was of sykamoure that he satt inn,
His bridell alle of brente golde with silke brayden raynes,
His cropoure was of tartaryne that traylede to the erthe;
And he throly was threven of thritty yere of elde,
And therto yonge and yape, and Youthe was his name,
And the semelyeste segge that I seghe ever.

The seconde segge in his sete satte at his ese,
A renke alle in rosette that rowmly was schapyn,
In a golyone of graye girde in the myddes,
And iche bagge in his bosome bettir than othere.
One his golde and his gude gretly he mousede,
His renttes and his reches rekened he full ofte,
Of mukkyng, of marlelyng, and mendynge of howses,
Of benes of his bondemen, of benefetis many,
Of presanttes of polayle, of pufilis als;
Of purches of ploughe-londes, of parkes full faire,
Of profettis of his pasturs, that his purse mendis;
Of stiewardes, of storrours, stirkes to bye,
Of clerkes, of countours, his courtes to holde;
And alle his witt in this werlde was one his wele one.
Hym semyde for to see to of sexty yere elde,
And therfore men in his marche Medill Elde hym callede.

The thirde was a laythe lede lenyde one his syde,
A beryne bownn alle in blake with bedis in his hande,
Croked and courbede, encrampeschett for elde;
Alle disfygured was his face and fadit his hewe,
His berde and browes were blanchede full whitte,
And the hare one his hede hewede of the same.
He was ballede and blynde and alle babirlippede,
Totheles and tenefull, I tell yowe for sothe;
And ever he momelide and ment and mercy he askede,
And cried kenely one Criste and his crede sayde,
With sawtries full sere tymes to sayntes in heven;
Envyous and angrye, and Elde was his name.
I helde hym be my hopynge a hundrethe yeris of age,
And bot his cruche and his couche he carede for no more.
Now hafe I rekkende yow theire araye redely the sothe,
And also namede yow thaire names naytly thereaftire,
And now thaire carpynge I sall kythe — knowe it if yowe liste.

Now this gome alle in grene so gayly attyrede,
This hathelle one this heghe horse with hauke one his fiste,
He was yonge and yape and yernynge to armes,
And pleynede hym one paramours and peteuosely syghede.
He sett hym up in his sadill and seyde theis wordes:
" My lady, my leman, that I hafe luffede ever,
My wele and my wirchip in werlde where thou duellys,
My playstere of paramours, my lady with pappis full swete,
Alle my hope and my hele, myn herte es thyn ownn!
I byhete the a heste and heghely I avowe,
There schall no hode ne no hatt one my hede sitt
Till that I joyntly with a gesserante justede hafe with onere,
And done dedis for thi love, doghety in armes. "

Bot then this gome alle in graye greved with this wordes,
And sayde, " Felowe, be my faythe thou fonnes full yerne,
For alle es fantome and foly that thou with faris.
Where es the londe and the lythe that thou arte lorde over?
For alle thy ryalle araye renttis hase thou none,
Ne for thi pompe and thi pride penyes bot fewe,
For alle thi golde and thi gude gloes one thi clothes,
And thou hafe caughte thi kaple thou cares for no fothire.
Bye the stirkes with thi stede and stalles thaym make,
Thi brydell of brent golde wolde bullokes the gete,
The pryce of thi perrye wolde purches the londes,
And wonne, wy, in thi witt, for wele neghe thou spilles. "

Than the gome alle in grene greved full sore,
And sayd, " Sir, be my soule, thi counsell es feble.
Bot thi golde and thi gude thou hase no god ells;
For, be the Lorde and the laye that I leve inne,
And by the Gode that me gaffe goste and soule,
Me were levere one this launde lengen a while,
Stoken in my stele-wede one my stede bakke,
Harde haspede in my helme and in my here-wedys,
With a grym grownden glayfe graythely in myn honde,
And see a kene knyghte come and cowpe with myselven,
That I myghte halde that I hafe highte and heghely avowede,
And parfourme my profers and proven my strengthes,
Than alle the golde and the gude that thoue gatt ever,
Than alle the londe and the lythe that thoue arte lorde over;
And ryde to a revere redily thereaftir,
With haukes full hawtayne that heghe willen flye,
And when the fewlis bene founden fawkoneres hyenn
To lache oute thaire lessches and lowsen thaym sone,
And keppyn of thaire caprons and casten fro honde;
And than the hawteste in haste hyghes to the towre,
With theire bellys so brighte blethely thay ryngen,
And there they hoven appon heghte as it were heven angelles.
Then the fawkoners full fersely to floodes thay hyen,
To the revere with thaire roddes to rere up the fewles,
Sowssches thaym full serely to serven thaire hawkes.
Than tercelettes full tayttely telys doun striken;
Laners and lanerettis lightten to thes endes,
Metyn with the maulerdes and many doun striken;
Fawkons thay founden freely to lighte,
With hoo and howghe to the heron thay hitten hym full ofte,
Buffetyn hym, betyn hym, and brynges hym to sege,
And saylen hym full serely and sesyn hym thereaftire.
Then fawkoners full fersely founden tham aftire,
To helpen thaire hawkes thay hyen thaym full yerne,
For the bitt of his bill bitterly he strikes.
They knelyn doun one theire knees and krepyn full lowe,
Wynnen to his wynges and wrythen thaym togedire,
Brosten the bones and brekyn thaym in sondire,
Puttis owte with a penn the maryo one his glove,
And quopes thaym to the querrye that quelled hym to the dethe.
He quyrres thaym and quotes thaym, quyppeys full lowde,
Cheres thaym full chefely ecchekkes to leve,
Than henttis thaym one honde and hodes thaym theraftire,
Cowples up theire cowers thaire caprons to holde,
Lowppes in thaire lesses thorowe vertwells of silvere.
Than he laches to his luyre and lokes to his horse,
And lepis upe one the lefte syde als the laghe askes.
Portours full pristly putten upe the fowlis,
And taryen for theire tercelettis that tenyn thaym full ofte,
For some chosen to the echecheke thoghe some chefe bettire.
Spanyells full spedily thay spryngen abowte,
Bedagged for dowkynge when digges bene enewede;
And than kayre to the courte that I come fro,
With ladys full lovely to lappyn in myn armes,
And clyp thaym and kysse thaym and comforthe myn hert,
And than with damesels dere to daunsen in thaire chambirs,
Riche romance to rede and rekken the sothe
Of kempes and of conquerours, of kynges full noblee,
How thay wirchipe and welthe wanne in thaire lyves;
With renkes in ryotte to revelle in haulle,
With coundythes and carolles and compaynyes sere,
And chese me to the chesse that chefe es of gamnes:
And this es life for to lede while I schalle lyfe here.
And thou with wandrynge and woo schalte wake for thi gudes,
And be thou dolven and dede thi dole schall be schorte,
And he that thou leste luffes schall layke hym therewith,
And spend that thou haste longe sparede, the devyll spede hym els! "

Than this renke alle in rosett rothelede thies wordes:
He sayde, " Thryfte and thou have threpid this thirtene wynter;
I seghe wele samples bene sothe that sayde bene yore:
Fole es that with foles delys; flyte we no lengare. "

Than this beryn alle in blake bownnes hym to speke,
And sayde, " Sirres, by my soule, sottes bene ye bothe!
Bot will ye hendely me herken ane hande-while,
And I schalle stynte your stryffe and stillen your threpe.
I sett ensample bi myselfe and sekis it no forthire:
While I was yonge in my youthe and yape of my dedys,
I was als everrous in armes as outher of youreselven,
And as styffe in a stourre one my stede bake,
And as gaye in my gere als any gome ells,
And as lelly byluffede with ladyse and maydens.
My likame was lovely, es lothe nowe to schewe,
And as myche wirchip I wane, iwis, as ye bothen.
And aftir irkede me with this and ese was me levere,
Als man in his medill elde his makande wolde have.
Than I mukkede and marlede and made up my howses,
And purcheste me ploughe-londes and pastures full noble,
Gatte gude and golde full gaynly to honde,
Reches and renttes were ryfe to myselven.
Bot Elde undireyode me are I laste wiste,
And alle disfegurede my face and fadide my hewe;
Bothe my browes and my berde blawnchede full whitte,
And when he sotted my syghte than sowed myn hert,
Croked me, cowrbed me, encrampeschet myn hondes,
That I ne may hefe tham to my hede ne noghte helpe myselven,
Ne stale stonden one my fete bot I my staffe have.
Makes youre mirrours bi me, men, bi youre trouthe:
This schadowe in my schewere schunte ye no while.
And now es dethe at my dore that I drede moste;
I ne wot wiche day ne when ne whate tyme he comes,
Ne whedirwardes, ne whare, ne whatte to do aftire.
Bot many modyere than I, men one this molde,
Hafe passed the pase that I schall passe sone,
And I schall neven yow the names of nyne of the beste
That ever wy in this werlde wiste appon erthe,
That were conquerours full kene and kiddeste of other.

The firste was Sir Ector and aldeste of tyme,
When Troygens of Troye were tried to fighte
With Menylawse the mody kynge and men out of Grece,
That thaire cite assegede and sayled it full yerne,
For Elayne his ownn quene that thereinn was halden,
That Paresche the proude knyghte paramours lovede.
Sir Ectore was everous als the storye telles,
And als clerkes in the cronycle cownten the sothe:
Nowmbron thaym to nynetene and nyne mo by tale
Of kynges with crounes he killede with his handes,
And full fele other folke, als ferly were ellis.
Then Achilles his adversarye undide with his werkes,
With wyles and no wirchipe woundede hym to dethe
Als he tentid to a tulke that he tuke of were.
And he was slayne for that slaughte sleghely theraftir
With the wyles of a woman as he had wroghte byfore.
Than Menylawse the mody kynge hade myrthe at his hert,
That Ectore hys enymy siche auntoure hade fallen,
And with the Gregeis of Grece he girde over the walles,
The prowde paleys dide he pulle doun to the erthe,
That was rialeste of araye and rycheste undir the heven.
And then the Trogens of Troye teneden full sore,
And semblen thaym full serely and sadly thay foughten.
Bot the lure at the laste lighte appon Troye,
For there Sir Priamus the prynce put was to dethe,
And Pantasilia the quene paste hym byfore.
Sir Troylus, a trewe knyghte that tristyly hade foghten,
Neptolemus, a noble knyghte at nede that wolde noghte fayle,
Palamedes, a prise knyghte and preved in armes,
Ulixes and Ercules, that full everrous were bothe,
And other fele of that ferde fared of the same,
As Dittes and Dares demeden togedir.

Aftir this Sir Alysaunder alle the worlde wanne,
Bothe the see and the sonde and the sadde erthe,
The iles of the Oryent to Ercules boundes —
Ther Ely and Ennoke ever hafe bene sythen,
And to the come of Antecriste unclosede be thay never —
And conquered Calcas knyghtly theraftire,
Ther jentille Jazon the Grewe wane the flese of golde.
Then grathede he hym to Gadres the gates full righte,
And there Sir Gadyfere the gude the Gaderayns assemblet,
And rode oute full ryally to rescowe the praye;
And than Emenyduse hym mete and made hym full tame,
And girdes Gadyfere to the grounde, gronande full sore,
And there that doughty was dede and mekill dole makede.
Then Alixander the Emperour, that athell kynge hymselven,
Arayed hym for to ryde with the renkes that he hade:
Ther was the mody Meneduse, a mane of Artage —
He was Duke of that douth and a dussypere —
Sir Filot and Sir Florydase, full ferse men of armes,
Sir Clyton and Sir Caulus, knyghtis full noble,
And Sir Garsyene the gaye, a gude man of armes,
And Sir Lyncamoure thaym ledys with a lighte will.
And than Sir Cassamus thaym kepide, and the kyng prayede
To fare into Fesome his frendis to helpe;
For one Carrus the kynge was comen owte of Inde,
And hade Fozome affrayede and Fozayne asegede
For Dame Fozonase the faire that he of lufe bysoughte.
The kynge agreed hym to goo and graythed hym sone,
In mendys of Amenyduse that he hade mysdone.
Then ferde he towarde Facron and by the flode abydes,
And there he tighte up his tentis and taried there a while.
There knyghtis full kenely caughten theire leve
To fare into Fozayne Dame Fozonase to see,
And Idores and Edease all bydene;
And there Sir Porus and his prynces to the poo avowede.
Was never speche byfore spoken sped bettir aftir,
For als thay demden to doo thay deden full even.
For there Sir Porus the prynce into the prese thrynges,
And bare the batelle one bake and abaschede thaym swythe.
And than the bolde Bawderayne bowes to the kyng,
And brayde owte the brighte brande owt of the kynges hande,
And Florydase full freschely foundes hym aftir,
And hent the helme of his hede and the halse crakede.
Than Sir Gadefere the gude gripis his axe,
And into the Indyans ofte auntirs hym sone,
And thaire stiffe standerte to stikkes he hewes.
And than Sir Cassamus the kene Carrus releves:
When he was fallen appon fote he fet hym his stede.
And aftyr that Sir Cassamus Sir Carus he drepitt,
And for that poynte Sir Porus perset hym to dethe.
And than the Indyans ofte uttire tham droghen,
And fledden faste of the felde and Alexandere suede.
When thay were skaterede and skayled and skyftede in sondere,
Alyxandere oure athell kyng ames hym to lenge,
And fares into Fozayne festes to make,
And weddis wy unto wy that wilnede togedire.
Sir Porus the pryce knyghte moste praysed of othere
Fonge Fozonase to fere, and fayne were thay bothe,
The bolde Bawderayne of Baderose, Sir Cassayle hymselven,
Bele Edyas the faire birde bade he no nother;
And Sir Betys the beryne the beste of his tyme,
Idores his awnn lufe aughte he hymselven;
Then iche lede hade the love that he hade longe yernede.
Sir Alixander oure Emperour ames hym to ryde,
And bewes towardes Babyloyne with the beryns that were levede,
Bycause of Dame Candace that comforthed hym moste;
And that cite he bysegede and assayllede it aftire,
While hym the gatis were yete and yolden the keyes.
And there that pereles prynce was puysonede to dede,
Thare he was dede of a drynke, as dole es to here,
That the curssede Cassander in a cowpe hym broghte.
He conquered with conqueste kyngdomes twelve,
And dalte thaym to his dussypers when he the dethe tholede;
And thus the worthieste of this werlde went to his ende.

Thane Sir Sezere hymselven, that Julyus was hatten,
Alle Inglande he aughte at his awnn will,
When the Bruyte in his booke Bretayne it callede.
The trewe toure of Londone in his tyme he makede,
And craftely the condithe he compaste thereaftire,
And then he droghe hym to Dovire and duellyde there a while,
And closede ther a castelle with cornells full heghe,
Warnestorede it full wiesely, als witnesses the sothe,
For there es hony in that holde holden sythen his tyme.
Than rode he into Romayne and rawnsede it sone,
And Cassabalount the kynge conquerede thereaftire.
Then graythed he hym into Grece and gete hym belyve;
The semely cite Alexaunder seside he theraftire;
Affrike and Arraby and Egipt the noble,
Surry and Sessoyne sessede he togedir,
With alle the iles of the see appon iche a syde
Thies thre were paynymes full priste and passed alle othire.

Of thre Jewes full gentill jugge we aftir,
In the Olde Testament as the storye tellis,
In a booke of the Bible that breves of kynges,
And renkes that rede kane Regum it callen.
The firste was gentill Josue that was a Jewe noble,
Was heryet for his holynes into hevenriche.
When Pharaoo had flayede the folkes of Israelle,
Thay ranne into the Rede See for radde of hymselven,
And than Josue the Jewe Jhesu he prayed
That the peple myghte passe unpereschede that tyme.
And than the see sett up appon sydes twayne,
In manere of a mode walle that made were with hondes,
And thay soughten over the see sownnde alle togedir.
And Pharaoo full fersely folowede thaym aftire,
And efte Josue the Jewe Jhesus he prayede,
And the see sattillede agayne and sanke thaym thereinn —
A soppe for the Sathanas; unsele have theire bones!
And aftire Josue the Jewe full gentilly hym bere,
And conquerede kynges and kyngdomes twelve,
And was a conqueroure full kene and moste kyd in his tyme.

Than David the doughty thurghe Drightynes sonde
Was caughte from kepyng of schepe and a kyng made.
The grete grym Golyas he to grounde broghte
And sloughe hym with his slynge and with no sleghte ells.
The stone thurghe his stele helme stong into his brayne,
And he was dede of that dynt — the Devyll hafe that reche!
And than was David full dere to Drightyn hymselven,
And was a prophete of pryse and praysed full ofte.
Bot yit greved he his God gretely theraftire,
For Urye his awnn knyghte in aventure he wysede
There he was dede at that dede, as dole es to here;
For Bersabee his awnn birde was alle that bale rerede.

The gentill Judas Machabee was a Jewe kene,
And thereto worthy in were and wyse of his dedis.
Antiochus and Appolyne aythere he drepide,
And Nychanore, another kynge, full naytly thereaftire,
And was a conquerour kydde and knawen with the beste.
Thies thre were Jewes full joly and justers full noble,
That full loughe have bene layde sythen gane full longe tyme:
Of siche doughety doers looke what es worthen.
Of the thre Cristen to carpe couthely thereaftir,
That were conquerours full kene and kyngdomes wonnen,
Areste was Sir Arthure and eldeste of tyme,
For alle Inglande he aughte at his awnn will,
And was kynge of this kythe and the crowne hade.
His courte was at Carlele comonly holden,
With renkes full ryalle of his Rownnde Table,
That Merlyn with his maystries made in his tyme,
And sett the Sege Perilous so semely one highte,
There no segge scholde sitt bot hym scholde schame tyde,
Owthir dethe withinn the thirde daye demed to hymselven,
Bot Sir Galade the gude that the gree wanne.
There was Sir Launcelot de Lake full lusty in armes,
And Sir Gawayne the gude that never gome harmede,
Sir Askanore, Sir Ewayne, Sir Errake Fytz Lake,
And Sir Kay the kene and kyd of his dedis,
Sir Percevalle de Galeys that preved had bene ofte,
Mordrede and Bedwere, men of mekyll myghte,
And othere fele of that ferde, folke of the beste.
Then Roystone the riche kyng, full rakill of his werkes,
He made a blyot to his bride of the berdes of kynges,
And aughtilde Sir Arthures berde one scholde be;
Bot Arthure oure athell kynge another he thynkes,
And faughte with hym in the felde till he was fey worthen.
And than Sir Arthure oure kyng ames hym to ryde;
Uppon Sayn Michaells Mounte mervaylles he wroghte,
There a dragone he dreped that drede was full sore.
And than he sayled over the see into sere londes,
Whils alle the beryns of Bretayne bewede hym to fote.
Gascoyne and Gyane gatt he thereaftir,
And conquered kyngdomes and contrees full fele.
Than ames he into Inglonde into his awnn kythe;
The gates towardes Glassthenbery full graythely he rydes.
And ther Sir Mordrede hym mett by a more syde,
And faughte with hym in the felde to alle were fey worthen,
Bot Arthur oure athell kyng and Wawayne his knyghte.
And when the felde was flowen and fey bot thaymselven,
Than Arthure Sir Wawayne athes by his trouthe
That he swiftely his swerde scholde swynge in the mere,
And whatt selcouthes he see the sothe scholde he telle.
And Sir Wawayne swith to the swerde and swange it in the mere,
And ane hande by the hiltys hastely it grippes,
And brawndeschet that brighte swerde and bere it awaye.
And Wawayne wondres of this werke, and wendes bylyve
To his lorde there he hym lefte, and lokes abowte,
And he ne wiste in alle this werlde where he was bycomen.
And then he hyghes hym in haste and hedis to the mere,
And seghe a bote from the banke and beryns thereinn.
Thereinn was Sir Arthure and othire of his ferys,
And also Morgn la Faye that myche couthe of sleghte.
And there ayther segge seghe othir laste, for sawe he hym no more.

Sir Godfraye de Bolenn siche grace of God hade
That alle Romanye he rode and rawnnsunte it sone;
The Amorelle of Antyoche aftire he drepit,
That was called Corborant, kiluarde of dedis;
And aftir he was callede kynge and the crownn hade
Of Jerasalem and of the Jewes gentill togedir,
And with the wirchipe of this werlde he went to his ende.

Than was Sir Cherlemayne chosen chefe kynge of Fraunce,
With his doghty doussypers, to do als hym lykede;
Sir Rowlande the riche and Duke Raynere of Jene,
Olyver and Aubrye and Ogere Deauneys,
And Sir Naymes at the nede that never wolde fayle,
Turpyn and Terry, two full tryed lordes,
And Sir Sampsone hymselfe of the Mounte Ryalle,
Sir Berarde de Moundres, a bolde beryn in armes,
And gud Sir Gy de Burgoyne, full gracyous of dedis;
The katur fitz Emowntez were kydde knyghtes alle,
And other moo than I may myne or any man elles.
And then Sir Cherlles the chefe ches for to ryde,
And paste towardes Polborne to proven his strenghte;
Salamadyne the Sowdane he sloghe with his handis,
And that cite he bysegede and saylede it full ofte,
While hym his yernynge was yett and the gates opynede;
And Witthyne thaire waryed kynge wolde nott abyde,
Bot soghte into Sessoyne socoure hym to gete;
And Cherlemayne oure chefe kynge cheses into the burgh,
And Dame Nioles anone he name to hymselven,
And maried hir to Maundevyle that scho hade myche lovede;
And spedd hym into he hyn Spayne spedely thereaftire,
And fittilled hym by Flagott faire for to loge.
There Olyver the everous aunterde hymselven,
And faughte with Sir Ferambrace and fonge hym one were;
And than they fologhed hym in a fonte and Florence hym callede.
And than moved he hym to Mawltryple Sir Balame to seche,
And that Emperour at Egremorte aftir he takes,
And wolde hafe made Sir Balame a man of oure faythe,
And garte feche forthe a founte by-fore-with his eghne,
And he dispysede it and spitte and spournede it to the erthe,
And one swyftely with a swerde swapped of his hede.
And Dame Floripe the faire was cristened thereaftire,
And kende thaym to the corownne that Criste had one hede,
And the nayles anone nayttly thereaftire,
When he with passyoun and pyne was naylede one the rode.
And than those relikes so riche redely he takes,
And at Sayne Denys he thaym dide, and duellyd there forever.
And than bodworde unto Merchill full boldly he sendys,
And bade hym Cristyne bycome and one Criste leve,
Or he scholde bette doun his borowes and brenn hym thereinn;
And garte Genyone goo that erande that grevede thaym alle.
Thane rode he to Rowncyvale, that rewed hym aftire,
There Sir Rowlande the ryche Duke refte was his lyfe,
And Olyver his awnn fere that ay had bene trewe,
And Sir Turpyn the trewe that full triste was at nede,
And full fele othir folke, als ferly were elles.
Then suede he the Sarazenes seven yere and more,
And the Sowdane at Saragose full sothely he fyndis,
And there he bett downn the burghe and Sir Merchill he tuke,
And that daye he dide hym to the dethe als he had wele servede.
Bot by than his wyes were wery and woundede full many,
And he fared into France to fongen thaire riste,
And neghede towarde Nerbone, that noyede thaym full sore.
And that cite he asseggede appone sere halfves,
While hym the gates were yette and yolden the keyes,
And Emorye made Emperour even at that tyme,
To have and to holde it to hym and to his ayers.
And then thay ferden into Fraunce to fongen thaire ese,
And at Sayn Denys he dyede at his dayes tyme.
Now hafe I nevened yow the names of nyne of the beste
That ever were in this werlde wiste appon erthe,
And the doghtyeste of dedis in thaire dayes tyme,
Bot doghetynes when dede comes ne dare noghte habyde.

Of wyghes that were wyseste will ye now here,
And I schall schortly yow schewe and schutt me ful sone.
Arestotle he was arste in Alexander tyme,
And was a fyne philozophire and a fynour noble,
The grete Alexander to graythe and gete golde when hym liste,
And multiplye metalles with mercurye watirs,
And with his ewe ardaunt and arsneke pouders,
With salpetir and sal-jeme and siche many othire,
And menge his metalles and make fyne silvere,
And was a blaunchere of the beste thurgh blaste of his fyre.
Then Virgill thurgh his vertus verrayle he maket
Bodyes of brighte brasse full boldely to speke,
To telle whate betydde had and whate betyde scholde,
When Dioclesyane was dighte to be dere Emperour;
Of Rome and of Romanye the rygalte he hade.

Than Sir Salomon hymselfe sett hym by hym one;
His bookes in the Bible bothe bene togedirs.
That one of wisdome and of witt wondirfully teches;
His sampills and his sawes bene sett in the tother:
And he was the wyseste in witt that ever wonnede in erthe,
And his techynges will bene trowede whills the werlde standes,
Bothe with kynges and knyghtis and kaysers therinn.

Merlyn was a mervayllous man and made many thynges,
And naymely nygromancye nayttede he ofte,
And graythed Galyan a boure to kepe hyr therin,
That no wy scholde hir wielde ne wynne from hymselven.
Theis were the wyseste in the worlde of witt that ever yitt were,
Bot dethe wondes for no witt to wende were hym lykes.

Now of the prowdeste in presse that paramoures loveden
I schalle titly yow telle and tary yow no lengere.
Amadase and Edoyne in erthe are thay bothe,
That in golde and in grene were gaye in thaire tyme;
And Sir Sampsone hymselfe full savage of his dedys,
And Dalyda his derelynge, now dethe has tham bothe.
Sir Ypomadonn de Poele full priste in his armes,
The faire Fere de Calabre, now faren are they bothe.
Generides the gentill full joly in his tyme,
And Clarionas that was so clere, are bothe nowe bot erthe.
Sir Eglamour of Artas full everous in armes,
And Cristabelle the clere maye es crept in hir grave,
And Sir Tristrem the trewe, full triste of hymselven,
And Ysoute his awnn lufe, in erthe are thay bothe.
Whare es now Dame Dido was qwene of Cartage?
Dame Candace the comly was called quene of Babyloyne?
Penelopie that was price and passed alle othere,
And Dame Gaynore the gaye, nowe graven are thay bothen,
And othere moo than I may mene or any man elles.

Sythen doughtynes when dede comes ne dare noghte habyde,
Ne dethe wondes for no witt to wende where hym lykes,
And therto paramours and pride puttes he full lowe,
Ne there es reches ne rent may rawnsone your lyves,
Ne noghte es sekire to youreselfe in certayne bot dethe,
And he es so uncertayne that sodaynly he comes,
Me thynke the wele of this werlde worthes to noghte.
Ecclesiastes the clerke declares in his booke
Vanitas vanitatum et omnia vanitas,
That alle es vayne and vanytes and vanyte es alle.
Forthi amendes youre mysse whills ye are men here,
Quia in inferno nulla est redempcio —
For in Helle es no helpe, I hete yow for sothe.
Als God in his gospelle graythely yow teches,
Ite ostendite vos sacerdotibus,
To schryve yow full schirle and schewe yow to prestis.
Et ecce omnia munda sunt vobis,
And ye that wronge wroghte schall worthen full clene.
Thou man in thi medill elde hafe mynde whate I saye!
I am thi sire and thou my sone, the sothe for to telle,
And he the sone of thiselfe, that sittis one the stede,
For Elde es sire of Midill Elde, and Midill Elde of Youthe.
And haves gud daye, for now I go — to grave moste me wende.
Dethe dynges one my dore, I dare no lengare byde. "

When I had lenged and layne a full longe while,
I herde a bogle one a bonke be blowen full lowde.
And I wakkened therwith and waytted me umbe.
Than the sone was sett and syled full loughe,
And I founded appon fote and ferkede towarde townn.
And in the monethe of Maye thies mirthes me tydde,
Als I schurtted me in a schelfe in the schawes faire,
And belde me in the birches with bewes full smale,
And lugede me in the leves that lighte were and grene.
There dere Drightyne this daye dele us of thi blysse,
And Marie that es mylde qwene amende us of synn. Amen Amen.