Sir Triamore
Low Iesus christ, o heauen King!
grant you all his deare blessing,
& his heauen for to win!
if you will a stond lay to yo u r eare,
of adventures you shall heare
tha t wilbe to yo u r liking,
of a K ing & of a queene
tha t had great Ioy them betweene;
S i r Arradas was his name;
he had a queene named Margarett,
shee was as true as steele, & sweet,
& full false brought in fame
by the K ing s steward tha t Marrocke hight,
a traitor & a false knight:
herafter yee will say all the same.
hee looued well tha t Ladye gent;
& for shee wold not w i th him consent,
he did tha t good Q ueene much shame.
this K ing loued well his Queene
because shee was comlye to be seene,
& as true as the turtle on tree.
either to other made great Moane,
for children together had they none
begotten on their bodye;
therfore the K ing , I vnderstand,
made a vow to goe to the holy land,
there for to fight & for to slay;
& praid god tha t he wold send him tho
grace to gett a child be-tweene them tow,
tha t the right heire might bee.
for his vow he did there make,
& of the pope the Crosse he did take,
for to seek the land were god him bought
the night of his dep ar ting, on the Ladye Mild,
as god it wold, hee gott a child;
but they both wist itt naught.
& on the morrow when it was day
the K ing hyed on his Tourney;
for to tarry, he it not thought.
then the Q ueene began to mourne
because her Lo rd wold noe longer soiourne;
shee sighed full sore, & sobbed oft.
the K ing & his men armed them right,
both Lo rd s, Barrons, & many a knight,
w i th him for to goe.
then betweene her & the King
was much sorrow & mourninge
when thé shold dep ar t in too.
he kissed & tooke his leaue of the Q ueene ,
& other Ladies bright & sheene,
& of Marrocke his steward alsoe;
the K ing com m anded him on paine of his life
for to keepe well his queene & wiffe
both in weale & woe.
now is the K ing forth gone
to the place where god was on the crosse done,
& warreth there a while.
then bethought this false steward—
as yee shall here after [ward,]—
his lord & K ing to beguile;
he wooed the Q ueene day & night
for to lye w i th her, & he might;
he dread no creature thoe
ffull fayre hee did tha t Lady speake,
tha t he might in bed w i th tha t Ladye sleepe;
thus full oft he prayed her thoe.
but shee was stedfast in her thought,
& heard them speake, & said nought
till hee all his case had told.
then shee said, “Marrocke, hast thou not thought
all tha t th ou speakeest is ffor nought?
I trow not tha t thou wold;
“for well my Lo rd did trust thee,
when hee to you deliu er ed mee
to haue me vnder the hold;
& [thou] woldest full faine
to doe thy Lord shame!
traitor, thou art to bold!”
then said Marrocke vnto tha t Ladye,
“my Lord is gone now verelye
against gods foes to ffight;
&, w i thout the more wonder bee,
hee shall come noe more att thee,
as I am a true knight.
“& Madam, wee will worke soe priuilye,
tha t wethere he doe liue or dye,
for of this shall witt noe wight.”
then waxed the Queene wonderous [wroth,]
& swore many a great othe
as shee was a true woman,
shee said, “traitor! if eu er thou be soe hardiye
to show me of such villanye,
on a gallow tree I will thee hange!
if I may know after this
tha t thou tice me, I-wis
thou shalt haue the law of the land.”
S ir Marroccke said, “Ladye, mercye!
I said itt for noe villainé,
by Iesu, heauen Kinge!
but only for to proue yo u r will,
whether tha t you were good or ill,
& for noe other thinge;
“but now, Madam, I may well see
you are as true as turtle on the tree
vnto my Lord the King;
& itt is to me both glad & leefe;
therfore take it not into greefe
for noe manner of thinge.”
& soe the traitor excused him thoe,
the Lady wend itt had beene soe
as the steward had said
he went forth, & held him still,
& thought he cold not haue his will;
therfore hee was euill apayd
soe w i th treason & trecherye
he thought to doe her villanye;
thus to himselfe he said.
night & day hee laboured then
for to betray tha t good woman;
soe att the last he her betraid.
now of this good Queene leaue wee,
& by the grace of the holy trinitye
full great w i th child did shee gone.
now of K ing Arradas speake wee,
tha t soe farr in heathinnesse is hee
to fight against gods fone;
there w i th his army & all his might
slew many a sarrazen in fight.
great words of them there rose
in the heathen Land, & alsoe in Pagainé;
& in eu er ye other Land that they come bye,
there sprang of him great losse.
when [he] had done his pilgrimage,
& labored all tha t great voyage
w i th all his good will & lybertye,—
att fflome Iorden & att Bethlem,
& att Caluarye beside Ierusalem,
in all the places was hee;—
then he longed to come home
to see his Ladye tha t liued at one;
he thought eu er on her greatlye.
soe long thé sealed on the fome
till att the last they came home;
he arriued ou er the Last strond.
the shippes did strike their sayles eche one,
the men were glad the K ing came home
vnto his owne Land
there was both mirth & game,
the Q ueene of his cominge was glad & faine,
Eche of them told other tydand
the K ing at last his Queene beheld,
& saw heer goe great w i th childe:
[&] hee wondred att that thinge.
many a time he did her kisse,
& made great ioy w i thout misse;
his hart made great reioceinge.
soone after the K ing hard tydinges newe
by Marroccke: tha t false knight vntrue
w i th reason his lord gan fraine,
“my lord,” he sayd, “for gods byne!
for of tha t childe tha t neu er was thine,
why art thow soe fayne?
“you wend tha t itt yo u r owne bee;
but,” he said, “S i r, ffor certaintye
yo u r Q ueene hath you betraine;
another K nigh t, soe god me speed,
begott this child sith you yeed,
& hath thy Q ueene forlaine.”
“Alas!” said the K ing , “how may this bee?
for I betooke her vnto thee,
her to keepe in waile & woe;
& vnder thy keeping how fortuned this
tha t thou suffered her doe amisse?
alas, Marroccke! why did thou soe?”
“S i r,” said the steward, “blame not me;
for much mone shee made for thee,
as though shee had loued noe more;
“I trowed on her noe villanye
till I saw one lye her by,
as the Mele had wrought.
to him I came w i th Egar mood,
& slew the traitor as he stood;
full sore itt [me] forethought.
“then shee trowed shee shold be shent,
& p ro mised me both Land & rent;
soe fayre shee me besought
to doe w i th her all my will
if tha t I wold [keepe] me still,
& tell you naught.”
“of this,” said the K ing , “I haue great wonder;
for sorrow my hart will breake assunder!
why hath shee done amisse?
alas! to whome shall I me mone,
sith I haue lost my comlye Queene
tha t I was wont to kisse?”
the K ing said, “Marroccke, what is thy read?
it is best to turne to dead
my ladye tha t hath done me this;
now because tha t shee is false to mee,
I will neu er more her see,
nor deale w i th her, I-wisse.”
the steward said, “L ord , doe not soe;
thou shalt neither burne ne sloe,
but doe as I you shall you tell.”
Marroccke sayd, “this councell I:
banish her out of yo u r Land priuilye,
far into exile.
“deliuer her an ambling steede,
& an old K nigh t to her lead;
thus by my councell see yee doe;
& giue them some spending money
tha t may them out of the land bring;
I wold noe better then soe.
“& an other mans child shalbe you heyre,
itt were neither good nor fayre
but if itt were of yo u r kin.”
then said the K ing , “soe mote I thee,
right as thou sayest, soe shall it bee,
& erst will I neu er blin.”
Loe, now is exiled tha t good Queene;
but shee wist not what it did meane,
nor what made him to begin.
to speake to her he nay wold;
tha t made the Queenes hart full cold,
& tha t was great pittye & sin.
he did her cloth in purple weede,
& set her on an old steed
tha t was both crooked & almost blinde;
he tooke her an old Knight,
kine to the Queene, S i r Rodger hight,
tha t was both curteous & kind.
3 dayes he gaue them leaue to passe,
& after tha t day sett was,
if men might them find,
the Queene shold burned be starke dead
in a ffyer w i th flames redd:
this came of the stewards mind.
40 florences for their expence
the K ing did giue them in his p re sence,
& coma n nded them to goe.
the Ladye mourned as shee shold dye;
for all this shee wist not whye
hee fared w i th her soe.
tha t good K nigh t comforted the Queene,
& said, “att gods will all must beene;
therfore, Madam, mourne you noe more.”
S i r Rodger for her hath much care,
[For ofte she mourned as she dyd fare,]
& cryed & sighed full sore;
Lords, Knights, & ladyes gent
mourned for her when shee went,
& be-wayled her tha t season.
the Queene began to make sorrow & care
when shee from the K ing shold fare
w i th wrong, against all reason.
forth they went, in number 3,
S i r Rodger, the Queene, & his greyhound trulye;
ah! o worth wicked treason!
then thought the steward trulye
to doe the Queene a villanye,
& to worke w i th her his will.
he ordained him a companye
of his owne men priuilye
tha t wold assent him till;
all vnder a Wood side they did lye
wheras the Queene shold passe by,
& held them wonderous still;
& there he thought verelye
his good Queene for to lye by,
his lusts for to fulfill.
& when hee came into the wood,
S i r Rodger & the Queene soe good,
& there to passe w i th-out doubt;
w i th tha t they were ware of the steward,
how hee was coming to them ward
w i th a ffull great rout.
“heere is treason!” then said the Queene.
“alas!” said Roger, “what may this meane?
w i th foes wee be sett round about.”
the K nigh t sayd, “heere will wee dwell;
Our liffe wee shall full deere sell,
be they neu er soe stout.
“Madam,” he sayd, “be not affrayd,
for I thinke heere w i th this sword
tha t I shall make them lowte.”
then cryed the steward to S i r Rodger on hye,
& said, “Lo rd , traitor! thou shalt dye!
for tha t I goe about.”
S i r Rodger said, “not for thee!
my death shalt thou deare abye;
for w i th thee will I fight.”
he went to him shortlye,
& old S i r Rodger bare him manfullye
like a full hardye Knight;
he hewed on them boldlye;
there was none of tha t companye
soe hardye nor sow wight.
S i r Rodger hitt one on the head
tha t to the girdle the sword yeed,
then was hee of them quitte;
he smote a stroke w i th a sword good
tha t all about them ran the blood,
soe sore he did them smite;
trulye-hee, his greyhound tha t was soo good,
did helpe his m aster , & by him stood,
& bitterlye can hee byte.
then tha t Lady, tha t fayre foode,
she feared Marrocke in her mood;
shee light on foote, & left her steede,
& ran fast, & wold not leaue,
& hid her vnder a greene greaue,
for shee was in great dread.
S i r Rodger then the Q ueene can behold,
& of his liffe he did nothing hold;
his good grayhound did help him indeed,
&, as itt is in the romans told,
14 he slew of yeomen bold;
soe he quitted him in tha t steade.
if hee had beene armed, I-wisse
all the Masterye had been his;
alas hee lacked weed.
as good S i r Rodger gaue a stroake,
behind him came S i r Marroccke,—
tha t euill might he speed,—
he smote S i r Rodger w i th a speare,
& to the ground he did him beare,
& fast tha t K nigh t did bleed.
S i r Marroccke gaue him such a wound
that he dyed there on ground,
& tha t was a sinfull deede.
now is Rodger slaine c er tainlye.
he rode forth & let him Lye,
& sought after the Queene.
fast hee rode, & sought eu er ye way,
yet wist he not where the Queene Laye
then said the traitor teene;
ou er all the wood hee her sought;
but as god wold, he found her nought.
then waxed he wrath, I weene,
& held his Iourney euill besett,
tha t w i th the Queene had not mett
to haue had his pleasure, the traitor keene.
& when he cold not the lady finde,
homeward they began to wend,
hard by where S i r Rodger Lay.
the steward him thrust throughout,
for of his death he had noe doubt,
& this the storye doth say.
& when the traitor had done soe,
he let him lye & went him froe,
& tooke noe thought tha t day;
yett all his companye was nye gone,
14 he left there dead for one;
there passed but 4 away.
then the Queene was ffull woe,
And shee saw tha t they were goe,
shee made sorrow & crye.
then shee rose & went againe
to S i r Rodger, & found him slaine;
his grey-hound by his feet did lye.
“alas,” shee said, “ tha t I was borne!
my trew K nigh t tha t I hane lorne,
they haue him there slaine!”
full pitteouslye shee mad her moane,
& said, “now must I goe alone!”
the grey-hound shee wold haue had full faine;
the hound still by his M aster did lye,
he licked his wounds, & did whine & crye.
this to see the Queene had paine,
& said, “S i r Roger, this hast thou for me!
alas tha t [it] shold eu er bee!”
her hayre shee tare in twayne;
& then shee went & tooke her steed,
& wold noe longer there abyde
lest men shold find her there.
shee said, “S i r Roger, now tho u art dead,
who will the right way now me lead?
for now thow mayst speake noe more.”
right on the ground there as he lay dead,
shee kist him or shee from him yead
god wott her hart was sore!
what for sorrow & dread,
fast away shee can her speede,
shee wist not wither nor where.
the good grayhound for waile & woe
from the K nigh t hee wold not goe,
but Lay & licked his wound;
he waite to haue healed them againe,
& therto he did his paine:
loe, such loue is in a hound!
this knight lay till he did stinke;
the greayhound he began to thinke,
& scraped a pitt anon;
therin he drew the dead corse,
& cou er ed itt w i th earth & Mosse,
& from him he wold not gone.
the grayhound lay still there;
this Q ueene gan forth to fare
for dread of her fone;
shee had great sorrow in her hart,
the thornes pricked her wonderous smart,
shee wist not wither to goe.
this lady forth fast can hye
into the land of Hugarye;
thither came shee w i th great woe.
at last shee came to a wood side,
but then cold shee noe further ryde,
her paynes tooke her soe.
shee lighted downe in tha t tyde,
for there shee did her trauncell abyde;
god wold tha t it shold be soe.
then shee w i th much paine
tyed her horsse by the rayne,
& rested her there till her paynes were goe.
shee was deliu er ed of a manchild sweete;
& when it began to crye & weepe,
it ioyed her hart greatlye.
soone after, when shee might stirr,
shee tooke her child to her full neere,
And wrapt itt full softlye.
What for wearye & for woe,
they fell a-sleepe both towe;
her steed stood her behind.
then came a K nigh t rydand there,
& found this ladye soe louelye of cheere
as hee hunted after the hind.
the K nigh t hight Bernard Mowswinge,
tha t found the Q ueene sleepinge,
vnder the greenwoode lyande.
softlye he went neere & neere;
he went on foot, & beheld her cheere,
as a K nigh t curteous & kind.
he awaked tha t ladye of beawtye;
shee looked on him pitteouslee,
& was affrayd full sore
he said, “what doe you here, Madame?
of whence be you, or whats y ou r name?
haue you yo u r men forlorne?”
“S i r,” shee sayd, “if you will witt,
my name is called Margerett;
in Arragon I was borne;
heere I sufferd much greefe;
helpe me, S i r, out of this Mischeefe!
att some towne tha t I were.”
the K nigh t beheld the Ladye good;
hee thought shee was of gentle blood
tha t was soe hard bestead;
he tooke her vp curteouslye,
& the child that lay her bye;
them both w i th him he led,
& made her haue a woman att will,
tendinge of her, as itt was skill,
all for to bring her a-bedd.
whatsoeu er shee wold haue,
shee needed itt not long to craue,
her speech was right soone sped.
thé christened the child w i th great hono u r,
& named him S i r T RYAMORE .
then they were of him glad;
great gifts to him was giuen
of Lo rd s & ladyes by-deene,
in bookes as I read.
there dwelled tha t Ladye longe
w i th much Ioy them amonge;
of her thé were neu er wearye.
the child was taught great nurterye;
a M aste r had him vnder his care,
& taught him curtesie
this child waxed wonderous well,
of great stature both of fleshe & fell;
eu er ye man loued him trulye,
of his companye all folke were glad;
indeed, noe other cause they had,
the child was gentle & bold.
Now of the Q ueene let wee bee,
& of the grayhound speake wee
tha t I erst of told.
long 7 yeeres, soe god me saue,
he did keepe his M asters graue,
till tha t hee waxed old;
this Gray-hound S i r Roger kept long,
& brought him vp sith he was younge,
in story as it is told;
therfore he kept soe there
for the space of 7 yeere,
& goe from him he ne wold.
eu er vpon his M aster s graue he lay,
there might noe man haue him away
for heat neither for cold,
w i thout it were once a day
he ran about to gett his prey
of beasts that were bold,
conyes, when he can them gett;
thus wold he labor for his meate,
yett great hungar he had in how.
& 7 yeeres he dwelled there,
till itt beffell on tha t yeere,
euen on christmasse day,
the gray-hound (as the story sayes)
came to the K ing s palace
without any delay.
when they Lor ds were sett at meate, soone
the grayhound into the hall runn
amonge the knights gay;
all about he can behold,
but he see not what hee wold;
then went he his way full right
when he had sought & cold not find;
ffull gentlye he did his kind,
speed better when he might.
the grayhound ran forth his way
till he came where his M aster Lay,
as fast as eu er he mought
the king marueiled at tha t deed,
from whence he went, & whither he yeed,
or who him thither brought.
the K ing thought he had seene him ere,
but he wist not well where,
therfor he said right nought.
soone he bethought him then
tha t he did him erst ken,
& still stayd in tha t thought.
the other day, in the same wise,
when the K ing shold from his meate rise,
the Grayhound came in thoe;
all about there he sought,
but the steward found he nought;
then againe he began to goe.
the[n] sayd the K ing in tha t stond,
“methinkes it is S i r Rogers hound
tha t went forth with the Queene;
I trow they be come againe to this land.
L o r d s, all this I vnderstand,
it may right well soe bee;
“if tha t they be into this Land come,
we shall haue word therof soone
& w i thin short space;
for neu er since thé went I-wisse
I saw not the gray hound ere this;
it is a marueilous case!
“when he cometh againe, follow him,
fo[r] eu er more he will run
to his M aster s dwelling place;
run & goe, looke ye not spare,
till tha t yee come there
to S i r Rodger & my Queene.”
then the 3 day, amonge them all
the grayhound came into the hall,
to meate ere thé were sett.
Marrocke the steward was w i thin,
the grayhound thought he wold not blin
till he w i th him had mett;
he tooke the steward by the throte,
& assunder he it bote;
but then he wold not byde,
for to his graue he rann.
there follolwed him many a man,
some on horsse, some beside;
& when he came where his M aster was,
he Layd him downe beside the grasse
And barked at the men againe.
there might noe man him from the place gett,
& yett w i th staues thé did him beate,
tha t he was almost slaine.
& when the men saw noe better boote,
then the men yeed home on horsse & foote,
w i th great wonder, I weene.
the K ing said, “by gods paine,
I trow S i r Marrocke hath S i r Rodger slaine,
& w i th treason famed my Queene.
“goe yee & seeke there againe;
for the hounds M aster there is slaine,
some treason there hath beene.”
thither they went, soe god me saue,
& found S i r Roger in his graue,
for tha t was soone seene:
& there they looked him there vpon,
for he was hole both flesh & bone,
& to the court his body they brought.
for when the K ing did him see,
the teares ran downe from his eye,
full sore itt him forethought.
the grayhound he wold not from his course fare:
then was the K ing cast in care,
& said, “Marroccke hath done me teene;
slaine he hath a curteous K nigh t,
& fained my Q ueene w i th great vnright,
as a traitor keene.”
the K ing let draw anon-right
the stewards bodye, tha t false K nigh t,
w i th horsse through the towne;
then he hanged him on a tree,
tha t all men might his body see,
tha t he had done treason.
S i r Rogers Body the next day
the K ing buryed in good array,
w i th many a bold baron.
the Grayhound was neu er away
by night nor yet by day,
but on the ground he did dye
the K ing did send his messengere
in eu er ye place far & neere
after the Queene to spye;
but for ought he cold enquire,
he cold of tha t Ladye nothing heare;
therfore the K ing was sorrye
the K ing sayd, “I trow noe reed,
for well I wott tha t shee is dead;
for sorrowe now shall I dye!
alas, tha t eu er shee from mee went!
this false steward hath me shent
throughe his false treacherye.”
this K ing liued in great sorrow
both euening & morrow
till tha t hee were brought to ground.
he liued thus many a yeere
w i th mourning & w i th euill cheere,
his sorrowes lasted long:
& eu er it did him great paine
when hee did thinke how S i r Roger was slaine,
& how helped him his hound;
& of his Q ueene tha t was soe Mylde,
how shee went from him great w i th child;
for woe then did hee sound.
long time thus liued the K ing
in great sorrow & Mourning,
& oftentime did weepe;
he tooke great thought more & more,
It made his hart verrye sore,
his sighs were sett soe deepe.
now of the K ing wee will bline,
& of the Queene let vs begin,
& S i r Tryamore;
for when he was 14 yeere old,
there was noe man soe bold
durst doe him dishonor;
in eu er ye time both stout & stronge,
& in stature large & longe,
comlye of hye color;
all tha t eu er he dwelled amonge,
he neu er did none of them wronge,
the more tha t was his honor.
in tha t time sikerlye
dyed the K ing of Hungarye
tha t was of great age I-wiss;
he had no heire his land to hold
but a daughter was 14 yeers old;
faire [Hellen] shee named is.
shee was as white as lilye flower,
& comely, of gay color,
the fairest of any towne or tower;
shee was well shapen of foote & hand,
peere shee had none in noe land,
shee was soe fresh & soe amorous.
for when her father was dead,
great warr began to spread
in tha t land about;
then the Ladyes councell gan her reade,
‘gett her a lord her land to lead,
to rule the realme w i thout doubt;
some mightye prince tha t well might
rule her land w i th reason & right,
tha t all men to him might Lout.’
& when her councell had sayd soe,
for great need shee had therto,
shee graunted them w i thout Lye:
the Lady said, “I will not feare
but he [be] prince or princes peere,
& cheefe of all chiualrye”
therto shee did consent,
& gaue her Lords com m andement
a great Iusting for to crye;
& at the Iustine, shold soe bee,
what man tha t shold win the degree,
shold win tha t Ladye trulye.
the day of Iusting then was sett,
halfe a yeere w i thout lett,
w i thout any more delay,
because thé might haue good space,
Lords, k nigh ts, dukes, in eu er ye place,
for to be there tha t day.
Lords, the best in eu er ye Land,
hard tell of tha t rydand,
& made them readye full gay;
of eu er ye land there was the best,
of the States tha t were honest
attyred many a Lady gay.
great was tha t chiualrye
tha t came tha t time to H UNGARYE ,
there for to Iust w i th might
at last T RIAMORE hard tyding
that there shold be a Iusting;
thither wold he wend.
if he wist tha t he might gaine
w i th all his might, he wold be faine
tha t gay Ladye for to win;
hee had noe horsse nay noe other geere,
Nor noe weapon w i th him to beare;
tha t brake his hart in twaine.
he thought both euen & morrow
where he might some armour borrowe,
therof wold hee be faine
to S i r Barnard then he can wend,
tha t he wold armour lend
to iust against the knights amaine.
then said S i r Barnard, “what hast thou thought?
p ar dew! of iusting thou canst nought!
for yee bee not able wepon to weld”
“S i r,” said T RIAMORE , “what wott yee
of what strenght tha t I bee
till I haue assayd in feeld?”
then S i r Barnard tha t was full hend,
said, “T RIAMOR ”, if thow wilt wend,
thou shalt lacke noe weed;
I will lend thee all my geere,
horsse & harneis, sheild & spere,
thou art nothing to dread;
“alsoe thither w i th thee will I ryde,
& eu er nye be by thy side
to helpe thee if thou haue need;
all things tha t thow wilt haue,
gold & siluer, if thow wilt craue,
thy Iourney for to speed.”
then was T RIAMORE glad & light,
& thanked Barnard w i th all his might
of his great p ro feringe
tha t day the Iusting shold bee,
T RIAMORE sett him on his knee
& asked his mother blessinge.
at home shee wold haue kept him faine;
but all her labor was in vaine,
there might be noe letting.
shee saw it wold noe better bee,
her blessing shee gaue him verelye
w[i]th full sore weepinge.
& when it was on the Morrow day,
T RIAMORE was in good array,
armed & well dight;
when he was sett on his steed,
he was a man both lenght & bread,
& goodlye in mans sight.
then T RIAMORE to the feeld can ryde,
& S i r Barnard by his side;
they were Iocund & light;
there was none in all the feild
tha t was more seemlye vnder sheild;
he rode full like a knight.
then was the faire Lady sett
full hye vppon a turrett,
for to behold tha t play;
there was many a seemlye K night ,
princes, Lords, & dukes of Might,
themselues for to assay,
w i th helme on theire heads bright
tha t all the feelds shone w i th light,
they were soe stout & gay:
then S i r TRIAMORE & S i r B ARNARD
thé pressed them into the feeld forward,
there durst noe man say nay.
there was much price & pride
when eu er ye man to other can ryde,
& lords of great renowne;
it beffell TRIAMORE tha t tyde
for to be on his fathers side,
the King of Arragon.
the first tha t rode forth certainlye
was a great Lord of Lumbardye,
a wonderfull bold Barron.
T RIAMOR rode him againe:
for all tha t lord had Might & maine,
the child bare him downe.
then cryed S i r Barnard w i th honor,
“A TRIAMOR , a TRIAMOR !”
for men shold him ken.
Mayd Hellen tha t was soe mild,
more shee beheld TRIAMORE the child
then all the other men.
then the K ing s sonne of Nauarine
wold not his body warne;
he pricked forth on the plaine.
then young Triamore tha t was stout,
turned himselfe round about,
& fast rode him againe;
soe neither of them were to ground cast,
they sate soe wonderous fast,
like men of much might
then came forth a Bachelour,
a prince proud w i thout peere;
S i r Iames, forsooth, he hight;
he was the Emperours sonne of Almaigne;
he rode S i r TRIAMORE againe,
w i th hard strenght to fight
S i r Iames had such a stroake indeed
tha t he was tumbled from his steed;
then failed all his might.
there men might see swords brast,
helmes ne sheilds might not last;
& thus it dured till night;
but when the sun drew neere west,
and all the Lords went to rerst,
[Not so the maide Elyne]
the K nigh ts attired them in good arraye,
on steeds great, w i th trappers gaye,
before the sun can shine;
then to the feeld thé pricked prest,
& e ue rye man thought himselfe best
[As the mayden faire they paste.]
then they feirclye ran together,
great speres in peeces did shim m er,
their timber might not last.
& at tha t time there did run
the K ing Arradas of Arragon:
his sonne Triiamore mett him in tha t tyde,
& gaue his father such a rebound
tha t harse & man fell to the ground,
soe stoutlye gan he ryde.
then the next K nigh t tha t hee mett
was S i r Iames; & such a stroake him sett
vpon the sheild ther on the plaine
tha t the blood brast out at his nose & eares,
his steed vnto the ground him beares;
then was S i r Barnard faine.
tha t Maid of great honor
sett her loue on younge TRIAMORE
tha t fought alwayes as a feirce Lyon.
speres tha t day many were spent,
& w i th swords there was many a stripe lent,
till the[re] failed light of the sunn.
on the Morrow all they were faine
for to come into the feild againe
w i th great spere & sheild.
then the Duke of Siuille, S i r Phylar,
tha t was a doughtye knight in eu er ye warr,
he rode first into the feild;
& Triamore tooke his spere,
against the Duke he can it beare,
& smote him in the sheild;
a-sunder in 2 peeces it went;
& then many a louelye Lady gent,
full well they him beheld.
then came forth a K nigh t tha t hight Terrey,
hee was a great Lo rd of Surrey,
he thought Noble T RIAMORE to assayle;
& T RIAMORE rode to him blithe
in all the strenght tha t he might driue,
he thought he wold not fayle;
he smote him soe in tha t stond
tha t horsse & man fell to the ground,
soe sore his stroke he sett.
then durst noe man att TRIAMORE [ride,]
for fortune held all on his side
all those dayes 3
S i r Iames, sonne vnto the Emperour,
had enuye to S i r Triamore,
and laid wait for him priuilye.
att the last T RIAMORE came ryding bye.
S i r Iames said, “Triamore! thou shalt dye,
for thou hast done me shame”
he rode to Triamore w i th a spere,
& thorrow the thigh he can him beare;
he had almost him slaine.
but Tryamore hitt him in the head
tha t he fell downe starke dead.
then was all his men woe;
then wold they haue slaine Tryamore
w i thout he had had great succour;
they purposed to doe soe.
w i th tha t came K ing Arradas then,
& reschued Tryamore w i th all his men,
tha t stood in great doubt.
then S i r Barnard was full woe
tha t Tryamore was hurt soe;
then to his owne house he him brought.
but when the Mother saw her sonns wound,
shee fell downe for sorrow to the ground,
& after a Leeche shee sent.
of this, all the Lords tha t were Iustinge,
to the pallace made highinge,
& to tha t Ladye went
truly, as the story sayes,
thé pricked forth to the pallace
the Ladyes will to heare,
Bachelours & k nigh ts prest,
tha t shee might choose of them the best
w hi ch to her faynest were.
the Ladye beheld all tha t fayre Meanye,
but Tryamore shee cold not see:
tho chaunged all her cheere,
then shee sayd “Lo rd , where is hee
tha t eu er ye day wan the degree?
I chuse him to my peere.”
al about thé Tryamore sought;
he was ryddn home; thé found him nought;
then was tha t Ladye woe.
the K nigh ts were afore her brought,
& of respite shee them besought,
a yeare & noe more:
shee said, “Lords, soe god me saue!
he tha t wan me, he shall me haue;
ye wot well tha t my cry was soe.”
thé all consented her vntill,
for shee said Nothing ill,
thé said it shold be soe.
for when they had all sayd,
then answered tha t fayre Mayd,
“I will haue none but Tryamore.”
then all the Lo rd s tha t were p re sent
tooke their Leaue, & home went;
there wan thé litle honor.
S i r Iames men were nothing faine
because their M aster , he was slaine,
That was soe stout in stowre;
in chaire his body thé Layd,
& led him home, as I haue sayd,
vnto his father the Emperour;
& when tha t hee his sonne gan see,
a sorrye man then was hee,
& asked ‘who had done tha t dishonor?’
thé sayd “wee [ne] wott who it is I-wisse,
but S i r Tryamore he named is,
soe thé called him in the crye;
“the K ing of Arragon alsoe,
he helped thy sonne to sloe,
w i th all his companye.”
they said, “thé be good warryoirs;
they byte vs w i th sharpe showers
w i th great villanye.”
“Alas!” said the Emperour,
“till I be reuenged on tha t traytour,
now shall I neu er cease!
thé shall haue many a sharpe shower,
both the K ing & Tryamore,
they shall neu er haue peace!”
the Emperour sayd thé shold repent;
& after great companye he sent
of princes bold in presse,
Dukes, Earles, & lords of price.
w i th a great armye, the Duke sayes,
thé yeed to Arragon w i thout lesse.
K ing Arradas was a-dread
for the Emperour such power had,
tha t battell hee wold him bid;
he saw his land nye ou er -gon,
& to a castle hee fledd anon,
& victualls it for dread.
the Emperour was bold & stout,
& beseeged the castle about;
his banner he began to spread,
& arrayd his host full well & wiselye,
w i th wepons strong & mightye
he thought to make them dread.
the Emperour was bold & stout,
& beseeged the castle about,
& his banner he gan to spread;
he gaue assault to the hold.
K ing Arradas was stout & bold,
ordayned him full well.
w i th gunes & great stones round
were throwne downe to the ground,
& on the men were cast;
they brake many backes & bones,
tha t they fought eu er ye[day] ones
while 7 weekes did last.
the Emperour was hurt ill therfore,
his men were hurt sore,
all his Ioy was past.
K ing Arradas thought full longe
tha t hee was beseeged soe stronge,
w i th soe much might & maine:
2 Lords forth a Message he sent,
& straight to the Emperour thé went
soe when they cold him see,
of peace they can him pray,
to take truce till a certaine day.
thé kneeled downe on their knee,
& said, “our K ing sendeth word to thee
tha t he neu er yo u r sonne did slay,
soe he wold quitt him faine;
he was not then p re sent,
nor did noe wise consent
tha t yo u r sonne was slaine.
That [he] will proue, if you will soe,
yo u r selfe and he betweene you tow,
if you will it sayne;
“or else take yo u r selfe a K nigh t,
& he will gett another to fight
on a certaine day:
if tha t yo u r K nigh t hap soe
ours for to discomfort or sloe,
as by fortune itt may,
our K ing then will doe yo u r will,
be att yo u r bidding lowde & still
w i thout more delay;
“& alsoe if it you betyde
tha t yo u r k nigh t on yo u r syde
be slaine by Mischance,
My Lord shall make yo u r warr to cease,
[and we shall after be at pease,]
w i thout any distance.”
the Emperour said w i thout fayle
“sett a day of Battell
by assent of the K ing of france;”
for he had a great Campiowne,
in eu er ye realme he wan renowne;
soe the Emperour ceased his distance.
when peace was made, & truce came,
then K ing Arradas were a Ioyfull man,
& trusted vnto Tryamore.
Soe after him he went w i thout fayle,
for to doe the great battelle
to his helpe & succour.
his Messengers were come & gone,
tydings of him hard thé none.
the K ing Arradas thought him long,
“& he be dead, I may say alas!
who shall then fight w i th Marradais
tha t is soe stout & stronge?”
when Tryamore was whole & sound,
& well healed of his wound,
he busked him for to fare;
he sayd, “mother,” w i th mild cheere,
“& I wist what my father were,
the lesse were my care”
“sonne,” shee said, “thou shalt witt;
when thou hast Marryed tha t Ladye sweet,
thy father thou shalt ken”
“mother,” he said, “if you will [soe,]
haue good day, for now I goe
to doe my Masteryes if I can”
then rode he ou er dale & downe
vntill he came to Arragon,
ou er many a weary way.
aduentures many him befell,
& all he scaped full well,
in all his great Iourney.
he saw many a wild beast
both in heath & in forrest;
he had good grey-hounds 3;
then to a hart he let them run
till 14 fosters spyed him soone,
soe threatened him greatlye;
they yeede to him w i th weapons on eu er ye side;
it was noe boote to bid them byde;
Tryamore was loth to flye,
& said vnto them, “Lo rd s, I you pray,
lett me in peace wend my way
to seeke my grayhounds 3.”
then said Tryamore as in this time,
“gold & siluer, take all mine
if tha t I haue tresspassed ought.”
Thé said, “wee will meete w i th thy anon,
there shall noe gold borrow thee soone,
but in prison thou shalt be brought,
Such is the law of the ground;
Whosoeu er therin may be found,
other way goe thé nought.”
then S i r Tryamore was full woe
tha t to prison he shold goe;
hee thought the flesh to deare bought.
there was no more to say,
the fosters att him gan lay
w i th strokes sterne and stout.
there Tryamore w i th them fought;
some to the ground be brought;
he made them lowe to looke;
some of them fast gan pray,
the other fled fast away
w i th wounds wyde tha t they sought.
Tryamore sought & found his gray-hounds;
he hear[k]ned to their yerning sounds,
& thought not for to leaue them soe.
at last he came to a water side;
there he saw the beast abyde
tha t had slaine 2 of his grayhounds;
the 3 full sore troubled the hind,
& he hurt him w i th his trinde;
then was Tryamore woe.
if the battaile had lasted a while,
the hart wold the hound beguile,
& take his life for eu er more.
Tryamore smote att the deere,
and to the hart went the spere;
then his horne he blew full sore.
the K ing Lay there beside
at Manno u r tha t same tide;
he hard a horne blowe;
they had great wonder in hall,
both K nigh ts, Squiers, & all,
for noe man cold it know
w i th tha t ran in a foster
into the hall w i th euill cheere,
& was full sorry, I trow.
the K ing of tydings gan him fraine;
he answered, “S i r K ing , yo u r Keepers be slaine,
and lye dead on a rowe
there came a k nigh t tha t was mightye,
he let 3 grayhounds tha t were wightye,
& laid my fellowes full lowe:”
he sayd, it was full true
tha t the same tha t the horne blew
tha t all this sorrow hath wrought.
King Arradas said then,
“I haue great need of such of a man;
god hath him hither brought.”
the K ing com m anded K nigh ts 3,
he said, “goe feitch yond gentleman to me
tha t is now at his play;
looke noe ill words w i th him yee breake,
but pray him w i th me for to speake;
I trow he will not say nay.”
Eu er ye knight his steed hent,
& lightlye to the wood thé went
to seeke Tryamore tha t child.
thé found him by a water side
where he brake the beast tha t tyde,
tha t hart tha t was soe wylde.
thé said, “S i r! god be at yo u r game!”
he answered them euen the same;
then was he frayd of guile.
“S i r K nigh t!” they said, “is itt yo u r will
to come & speake our K ing vntill
w i th word[e]s meeke & mylde?”
Tryamore asked shortlye,
“what hight yo u r K ing , tell yee mee,
tha t is lord of this land?”
“this Land hight Arragon,
& our K ing , Arradas, w i th crowne;
his place his heire att hand.”
Tryamore went vnto the K[ ing ,]
& he was glad of his cominge,
he knew him att first sight;
the K ing tooke him by the hand,
& said, “welcome into this land!”
& asked him what he hight.
“S i r, my name is Tryamore;
once you helpt me in a stowre
as a noble man of might;
& now I am here in thy Land;
soe was I neu er erst, as I vnderstand,
by god full of might.”
when the K ing wist it was hee,
his hart reioced greatlye;
3 times he did downe fall,
& [said] “Tryamore, welcome to me!
great sorrowe & care I haue had for thee;”
and he told him al;
“w i th the Emperour I tooke a day
[to] defend me if tha t I may;
to Iesu I will call;
for I neu er his sonne slew;
god he knoweth I speake but true,
& helpe me I trust he shall!”
then said Tryamore thoe, [“I am fulle woe]
tha t you for me haue beene greeued soe,
if I might it amend;
& att the day of battell
I trust to proue my might as well,
if god will grace me send.”
then was K ing Arradas very glad,
and of Marradas was not adread:
when he to the batteile shold wend,
he ioyed tha t he shold well speed,
for Tryamore was warry at neede
against his enemye to defend.
there Tryamore dwelled w i th the K ing
many a weeke w i thout lettinge;
he lacked right nought.
& when the day of battayle was came,
the Emperour w i th his men hasted full soone,
& manye wonder thought;
he brought thither both K ing & K nigh t;
& Marradas, tha t was of might,
to batteille he him brought.
there was many a seemelye man,
moe then I tell you can;
of them all he ne wrought.
both p ar tyes tha t ilke day
into the feeld tooke the way,
they were already dight.
the K ing there kissed Tryamore,
& sayd, “I make thee mine [heyre] this hower,
& dubb thee a k nigh t.”
“S i r,” said Tryamore, “take no dread;
I trust Iesus will me speede,
for you be in the right;
therfore through gods grace
I will fight for you in this place
w i th the helpe of our Lords might!”
both p ar tyes were full swore
to hold the p ro mise tha t was made before;
to Iesus can hee call.
S i r Tryamore & S i r Marradas
both well armed was
amonge the Lords all;
eche of them were sett on steede;
all men of Tryamore had dreede,
tha t was soe hind in all
Marradas was stiffe & sure,
their might noe man his stroake endure,
But tha t he made them fall.
then rode they together full right;
w i th sharpe speres & swords bright
they smote together sore;
thé spent speres & brake sheelds,
thé busled fowle in middest the feelds,
either fomed as doth a bore.
all th é wondred tha t beheld
how thé fought in the feeld;
there was but a liffe.
Marradas fared fyer wood
because Tryamore soe long stood;
sore gan hee smite.
S i r Tryamore fayled of Marradas,
tha t sword lighted vpon his horsse,
the sword to ground gan light.
Marradas said, “it is great shame
on a steed to wreake his game!
thou sholdest rather smite mee!”
Tryamore swore, by gods might
I had leuer it had on thee light!
then I wold not be sorye;
“but here I giue thee steede mine
because I haue slaine thine;
by my will it shalbe soe.”
Marradas sayd, “I will [him] nought
till I haue him with stroakes bought,”
[and won him from my foe.]
& Tryamore lighted from his horsse,
& to Marradas straight he goes,
for both on foote they did light.
S i r Tryamore spared him nought,
[But evyr in his hert he thoght]
“this day was I made a K nigh t!”
& thought tha t hee himselfe wold be slaine soone,
“or else of him I will win my shoone
throughe gods might.”
thé laid eche at other w i th good will
w i th sharpe swords made of steele;
tha t saw many a knight.
great wonder it was to behold
the stroakes tha t was betwixt them soe bold;
all men might it see.
thé were weary, & had soe greatlye bled;
Marradas was sore adread,
he fainted then greatlye;
& tha t Tryamore lightlye beheld,
& fought feerclye in the feeld;
he stroke Marradas soe sore
tha t the sword through the body ran.
then was the Emperour a sorry man;
he made thenn peace for eu er -more;
he kissed the K ing , & was his freind,
& tooke his leauee homewards to wend;
noe longer there dwell wold hee.
then K ing Arradas & Tryamore
went to the palace w i th great honor,
into tha t rych citye.
there was ioy w i thout care,
& all they had great welfare,
there might no better bee;
they hunted & rode many a where,
full great pleasure they had there.
among the knights of price
the K ing p ro fered him full fayre,
& sayd, “Tryamore, Ile make thee mine heyre,
for thou art strong & wise.”
S i r Tryamore said, “S i r, trulye
into other countryes goe will I;
I desire of you but a steed,
& to other lands will I goe
some great aduentures for to doe,
thus will I my liffe lead.”
the K ing was verry sorry tho;
when tha t hee wold from him goe,
he gaue him a sure weede,
& plenty of siluer & gold,
& a steed as hee wold,
tha t nothing wold feare
hee tooke his leaue of the King,
And mourned at his dep ar ting,
then hasted he him there;
the K ing sayd, “Tryamor! tha t is mine,
when thou list it shall be thine,
all my kingdome lesse & more”
Now is Tryamore forth goe;
Lords & ladyes were full woe,
eu er ye man loued him there.
Tryamore rode in hast trulye
into the Land of Hungarye,
aduentures for to seeke.
betweene 2 mountaines, the sooth to say,
he rode forth on his way;
w i th a palmer he did meete;
he asked almes for gods sake,
& Tryamore him not forgate,
he gaue him w i th words sweete.
the palmer said, “turne yee againe,
or else I feare you wilbe slaine;
you may not passe but you be beat”
Tryamore asked “why soe?”
“S i r,” he said, “there be brethren towe
tha t on the mountaine dwells.”
“faith,” said Tryamore, “if there be no more,
I trust in god tha t way to goe,
if this be true tha t thou tells.”
he bade the palmer good day,
& rode forth on his way
ou er heath & feelds;
the palmer prayed to him full fast,
Tryamore was not agast,
he blew his horne full shrill.
he had not rydden but a while,
not the Mountenance of a mile,
2 k nigh ts he saw on a hill:
the one of them to him gan ryde,
they other still gan abyde
a litle there beside.
& when thé did Tryamore spye,
thé said, “turne thee traytor, or thou shalt dye,
therfore stand & abyde!”
either againe other gan ryd fast,
theire strokes mad their speres to brast,
& made them wounds full wyde.
the other k nigh t tha t houed soe,
wondred tha t Tryamore dared soe:
he rode to them tha t tyde
& dep ar ted them in twaine,
& to speake fayre he began to fraine
w i th words tha t sounded well:
to Tryamore he sayd anon,
“a doughtyer K nigh t I neu er saw none!
thy name tha t thou vs tell.”
Tryamore said, “first will I wett
why tha t you doe keepe this street,
& where tha t you doe dwell.”
thé said, “wee had a brother hight Marradas,
w i th the Emperour forsooth he was,
a stronge man well I-know,
in Arragon, before the Emperour,
a k nigh t called S i r Tryamore
in battel there him slew;
“& alsoe wee say another,
Burlong our elder brother,
as a man of much might;
he hath beseeged soothlye
the K ing s daughter of H UNGARVE ;
to wed her he hath height;
“& soe well hee hath sped
tha t hee shall tha t Lady wedd
but shee may find a K nigh t
tha t B URLONGE ou er come may;
to tha t they haue tooke a day,
wage battel & fight;
“for tha t same Tryamore
loued tha t Ladye paramoure,
as it is before told;
if he will to Hungarye,
needs must he come vs by;
to meete w i th him wee wold.”
Tryamore said, “I say not nay,
but my name I will tell this day,
in faith I will not Laine:
thinke yo u r Iourney well besett,
for w i th Tryamore you haue mett
tha t yo u r brother hath slaine.”
“welcome!” thé said, “Tryamore!
his death shalt thou repent sore;
thy sorrow shall begin
yeeld thee to vs anon,
for thou shalt not from vs gone
by noe manner of gin.”
thé smote feircly att him tho,
& Tryamore against them 2
w i thout more delay.
S i r Tryamore proued him full prest,
he brake their spere on their brest,
hee had such assay;
his sheeld was broken in peeces 3,
his horsse was smitten on his knee,
soe hard att him thé thrust.
S i r Tryamore was then right wood,
& slew the one there as he stood
w i th his sword full prest.
tha t other rode his way,
his hart was in great affray,
yet he turned againe tha t tide,—
when Tryamore had slaine his brother,
a sorry man then was the other,—
& straight againe to him did rydde;
then they 2 sore foughte
tha t the other to the ground was brought
then were thé both slaine.
tho the Ladye on Tryamore thought,
for of him shee knew right nought,
shee wist not what to say.
the day was come tha t was sett,
the Lords assembled w i thout lett,
all in good array.
Burlonge was redye dight,
he bade the Lady send the K nigh t
shee answered “I ne may:”
for in tha t castle shee had hight
to keepe her w i th all her might,
as the story doth say.
thé said, “if Tryamore be aliue,
hither will hee come blithe;
god send vs good grace to speed!”
w i th tha t came in S i r Tryamore
in the thickest of tha t stower,
into the feild w i thout dread.
he asked ‘what all tha t did meane’
the people shewed tha t a battel there shold beene
for the loue of tha t Ladye.
he saw B URLONG on his steede,
& straight to him he yeede;
tha t Ladye challengeth hee.
Burlong asked him if he wold fight.
Tryamore said, “w i th all [my] might
to slay thee, or thou me.”
anon thé made them readye,
& none there knew him sikerlye,
thé wondred what he shold bee.
high on a tower stood tha t good Ladye;
shee knew not what K nigh t verelye
tha t w i th Burlong did fight
fast shee asked of her men
‘if tha t K nigh t they cold ken
tha t to battell was dight;
‘a griffon he beareth all of blew.’
a herald of armes soone him knew,
& said anon-right,
“Madame! god hath sent you succor;
for yonder is Tryamore
That w i th Burlong will fight”
to Iesus gan the Ladye pray
for to speed him on his Iourney
that hee about yeed.
then those K nigh ts ran together,
the speres in peeces gan shiuer,
thé fought full sore indeed;
there was noe man in the feild tho
who shold haue the better of them tow,
soe mightilye they did them beare.
the Battel lasted wonderous long;
though Burlong was neu er soe stronge,
there found he his peere.
Tryamore a stroke to him mint,
his sword fell downe at tha t dint
out of his hand him froe.
then was Burlong verry glad,
& the Ladye was verry sad,
& many more full woe.
Tryamore asked his sword againe,
but Burlong gan him fraine
to know first his name;
& said, “tell me first what thou hight,
& why thou challengeth the Ladye bright,
then shalt thou haue thy sword againe.”
Tryamore sayd, “soe mote I thee,
My name I will tell trulye,
therof I will not doubt;
men call me S i r Tryamore,
I wan this Ladye in a stowre
among Barrons stout.”
then said Burlong, “thou it was
tha t slew my brother Marradas!
a faire hap thee befell!”
S i r Tryamore sayd to him tho,
“soe haue I done thy Brethren
tha t on the Mountaines did dwell.”
Burlong said, “woe may thou bee,
for thou hast slaine my brethren 3!
sorrow hast thou sought!
thy sword getts thou neu er againe
till I be avenged, & thou slaine;
now I am well bethought!”
S i r Tryamore sayd, “noe force tho,
thou shalt repent it ere thou goe;
doe forth! I dread thee nought!”
Burlong to smite was readye bowne,
his feete slipt, & hee fell downe,
& Tryamore right well nought,
his sword lightlye he vp hent,
& to Burlonge fast he went;
for nothing wold he flee;
& as he wold haue risen againe,
he smote his leggs euen in twaine
hard fast by the knee.
Tryamore bade him “stand vpright,
& all men may see now in fight
wee beene meete of a size.”
S i r Tryamore suffered him
to take another weapon,
as a knight of much prize.
Burlong on his stumpes stood
as a man tha t was nye wood,
& fought wonderous hard
& S i r Tryamore strake stroakes sure,
for he cold well endure;
of him hee was not affrayd,
& vnder his ventale
his head he smote of w i thout fayle;
w i th tha t in peeces his sword brast.
Now is Burlong slaine,
& Triamore w i th maine
into the Castle went,
to the Ladye tha t was full bright;
& att the gates shee mett the K nigh t,
& in her armes shee him hent.
Shee said, “welcome s i r Tryamore!
for you haue bought my loue full deere,
my hart is on you lent!”
then said all the Barrons bold,
“of him wee will our lands hold;”
& therto they did assent.
there is noe more to say,
but they haue taken a certaine day
tha t they both shalbe wed.
S i r Tryamore for his mother sent,
a Messenger for her went,
& into the castle he[r] led.
Tryamore to his mother gan saine,
“my father I wold know faine,
sith I haue soe well sped.”
shee said, “K ing Arraydas of Arragon,
is thy father, & thou his owne sonne;
I was his wedded Queene;
“a leasing was borne me in hand,
& falsely fleamed me out of his land
by a traitor Keene,
S i r Marrockee thé hight: he did me woe,
& S i r Rodger my knight he did sloe,
tha t my guide shold haue beene.”
& when tha t Tryamore all heard,
& how his mother shee had sayd,
letters he made & wrought;
he prayd K ing Arradas to come him till,
if tha t it were his will,
thus he him besought:
‘if hee will come into H UNGARYE
for his Manhood & his Masterye,
& tha t he wold fayle in nought.’
then was K ing Arradas verry glad;
the Messengers great guifts had
for they tydings tha t they brought.
the day was come tha t was sett,
the L ord s came thither w i thout let,
& ladyes of great pryde;
then wold they noe longer lett;
shortlye after they are fett,
w i th 2 dukes on eu er ye side;
they lady to the church thé led;
a Bishopp them together did wed,
in full great hast thé hyed.
soone after tha t weddinge
S i r Tryamore was crowned K ing ,
they wold noe longer abyde.
the Q ueene , his mother Margarett,
before the K ing shee was sett
in a goodlye cheare
K ing Arradas beheld his Queene,
him thought tha t hee had her seenc,
shee was a ladye fayre;
the K ing said, “it is yo u r will
yo u r name me for to tell,
I pray you w i th words fayre.”
“my Lord,” sayd [she,] “I was yo u r Queene;
yo u r steward did me ill teene;
tha t euill might him befalle!”
the K ing spake noe more words
till the clothes were drawen from the bords,
& men rose in the hall.
& by the hand he tooke the Q ueene gent;
soe in the chamber forth he went,
& there shee told him all.
then was there great Ioy & blisse!
when they together gan kisse,
then all they companye made Ioy enough.
the younge Queene [was] full glad
tha t shee a K ing s sonne to her Lord had,
shee was glad, I trowe;
in Ioy together lead their liffe
all their dayes w i thout striffe,
& liued many a fayre yeere.
Then king Arradas & his Queene
had ioy enough them betweene,
& merrilye liued together.
& thus wee leaue of Tryamore
tha t liued long in great honor
with the fayre H ELLENE
I pray god giue their soules good rest,
& all tha t haue heard this litle Iest,
highe heauen for to win!
god grant vs all to haue tha t grace,
him for to see in the celestyall place!
I pray you all to say Amen!
grant you all his deare blessing,
& his heauen for to win!
if you will a stond lay to yo u r eare,
of adventures you shall heare
tha t wilbe to yo u r liking,
of a K ing & of a queene
tha t had great Ioy them betweene;
S i r Arradas was his name;
he had a queene named Margarett,
shee was as true as steele, & sweet,
& full false brought in fame
by the K ing s steward tha t Marrocke hight,
a traitor & a false knight:
herafter yee will say all the same.
hee looued well tha t Ladye gent;
& for shee wold not w i th him consent,
he did tha t good Q ueene much shame.
this K ing loued well his Queene
because shee was comlye to be seene,
& as true as the turtle on tree.
either to other made great Moane,
for children together had they none
begotten on their bodye;
therfore the K ing , I vnderstand,
made a vow to goe to the holy land,
there for to fight & for to slay;
& praid god tha t he wold send him tho
grace to gett a child be-tweene them tow,
tha t the right heire might bee.
for his vow he did there make,
& of the pope the Crosse he did take,
for to seek the land were god him bought
the night of his dep ar ting, on the Ladye Mild,
as god it wold, hee gott a child;
but they both wist itt naught.
& on the morrow when it was day
the K ing hyed on his Tourney;
for to tarry, he it not thought.
then the Q ueene began to mourne
because her Lo rd wold noe longer soiourne;
shee sighed full sore, & sobbed oft.
the K ing & his men armed them right,
both Lo rd s, Barrons, & many a knight,
w i th him for to goe.
then betweene her & the King
was much sorrow & mourninge
when thé shold dep ar t in too.
he kissed & tooke his leaue of the Q ueene ,
& other Ladies bright & sheene,
& of Marrocke his steward alsoe;
the K ing com m anded him on paine of his life
for to keepe well his queene & wiffe
both in weale & woe.
now is the K ing forth gone
to the place where god was on the crosse done,
& warreth there a while.
then bethought this false steward—
as yee shall here after [ward,]—
his lord & K ing to beguile;
he wooed the Q ueene day & night
for to lye w i th her, & he might;
he dread no creature thoe
ffull fayre hee did tha t Lady speake,
tha t he might in bed w i th tha t Ladye sleepe;
thus full oft he prayed her thoe.
but shee was stedfast in her thought,
& heard them speake, & said nought
till hee all his case had told.
then shee said, “Marrocke, hast thou not thought
all tha t th ou speakeest is ffor nought?
I trow not tha t thou wold;
“for well my Lo rd did trust thee,
when hee to you deliu er ed mee
to haue me vnder the hold;
& [thou] woldest full faine
to doe thy Lord shame!
traitor, thou art to bold!”
then said Marrocke vnto tha t Ladye,
“my Lord is gone now verelye
against gods foes to ffight;
&, w i thout the more wonder bee,
hee shall come noe more att thee,
as I am a true knight.
“& Madam, wee will worke soe priuilye,
tha t wethere he doe liue or dye,
for of this shall witt noe wight.”
then waxed the Queene wonderous [wroth,]
& swore many a great othe
as shee was a true woman,
shee said, “traitor! if eu er thou be soe hardiye
to show me of such villanye,
on a gallow tree I will thee hange!
if I may know after this
tha t thou tice me, I-wis
thou shalt haue the law of the land.”
S ir Marroccke said, “Ladye, mercye!
I said itt for noe villainé,
by Iesu, heauen Kinge!
but only for to proue yo u r will,
whether tha t you were good or ill,
& for noe other thinge;
“but now, Madam, I may well see
you are as true as turtle on the tree
vnto my Lord the King;
& itt is to me both glad & leefe;
therfore take it not into greefe
for noe manner of thinge.”
& soe the traitor excused him thoe,
the Lady wend itt had beene soe
as the steward had said
he went forth, & held him still,
& thought he cold not haue his will;
therfore hee was euill apayd
soe w i th treason & trecherye
he thought to doe her villanye;
thus to himselfe he said.
night & day hee laboured then
for to betray tha t good woman;
soe att the last he her betraid.
now of this good Queene leaue wee,
& by the grace of the holy trinitye
full great w i th child did shee gone.
now of K ing Arradas speake wee,
tha t soe farr in heathinnesse is hee
to fight against gods fone;
there w i th his army & all his might
slew many a sarrazen in fight.
great words of them there rose
in the heathen Land, & alsoe in Pagainé;
& in eu er ye other Land that they come bye,
there sprang of him great losse.
when [he] had done his pilgrimage,
& labored all tha t great voyage
w i th all his good will & lybertye,—
att fflome Iorden & att Bethlem,
& att Caluarye beside Ierusalem,
in all the places was hee;—
then he longed to come home
to see his Ladye tha t liued at one;
he thought eu er on her greatlye.
soe long thé sealed on the fome
till att the last they came home;
he arriued ou er the Last strond.
the shippes did strike their sayles eche one,
the men were glad the K ing came home
vnto his owne Land
there was both mirth & game,
the Q ueene of his cominge was glad & faine,
Eche of them told other tydand
the K ing at last his Queene beheld,
& saw heer goe great w i th childe:
[&] hee wondred att that thinge.
many a time he did her kisse,
& made great ioy w i thout misse;
his hart made great reioceinge.
soone after the K ing hard tydinges newe
by Marroccke: tha t false knight vntrue
w i th reason his lord gan fraine,
“my lord,” he sayd, “for gods byne!
for of tha t childe tha t neu er was thine,
why art thow soe fayne?
“you wend tha t itt yo u r owne bee;
but,” he said, “S i r, ffor certaintye
yo u r Q ueene hath you betraine;
another K nigh t, soe god me speed,
begott this child sith you yeed,
& hath thy Q ueene forlaine.”
“Alas!” said the K ing , “how may this bee?
for I betooke her vnto thee,
her to keepe in waile & woe;
& vnder thy keeping how fortuned this
tha t thou suffered her doe amisse?
alas, Marroccke! why did thou soe?”
“S i r,” said the steward, “blame not me;
for much mone shee made for thee,
as though shee had loued noe more;
“I trowed on her noe villanye
till I saw one lye her by,
as the Mele had wrought.
to him I came w i th Egar mood,
& slew the traitor as he stood;
full sore itt [me] forethought.
“then shee trowed shee shold be shent,
& p ro mised me both Land & rent;
soe fayre shee me besought
to doe w i th her all my will
if tha t I wold [keepe] me still,
& tell you naught.”
“of this,” said the K ing , “I haue great wonder;
for sorrow my hart will breake assunder!
why hath shee done amisse?
alas! to whome shall I me mone,
sith I haue lost my comlye Queene
tha t I was wont to kisse?”
the K ing said, “Marroccke, what is thy read?
it is best to turne to dead
my ladye tha t hath done me this;
now because tha t shee is false to mee,
I will neu er more her see,
nor deale w i th her, I-wisse.”
the steward said, “L ord , doe not soe;
thou shalt neither burne ne sloe,
but doe as I you shall you tell.”
Marroccke sayd, “this councell I:
banish her out of yo u r Land priuilye,
far into exile.
“deliuer her an ambling steede,
& an old K nigh t to her lead;
thus by my councell see yee doe;
& giue them some spending money
tha t may them out of the land bring;
I wold noe better then soe.
“& an other mans child shalbe you heyre,
itt were neither good nor fayre
but if itt were of yo u r kin.”
then said the K ing , “soe mote I thee,
right as thou sayest, soe shall it bee,
& erst will I neu er blin.”
Loe, now is exiled tha t good Queene;
but shee wist not what it did meane,
nor what made him to begin.
to speake to her he nay wold;
tha t made the Queenes hart full cold,
& tha t was great pittye & sin.
he did her cloth in purple weede,
& set her on an old steed
tha t was both crooked & almost blinde;
he tooke her an old Knight,
kine to the Queene, S i r Rodger hight,
tha t was both curteous & kind.
3 dayes he gaue them leaue to passe,
& after tha t day sett was,
if men might them find,
the Queene shold burned be starke dead
in a ffyer w i th flames redd:
this came of the stewards mind.
40 florences for their expence
the K ing did giue them in his p re sence,
& coma n nded them to goe.
the Ladye mourned as shee shold dye;
for all this shee wist not whye
hee fared w i th her soe.
tha t good K nigh t comforted the Queene,
& said, “att gods will all must beene;
therfore, Madam, mourne you noe more.”
S i r Rodger for her hath much care,
[For ofte she mourned as she dyd fare,]
& cryed & sighed full sore;
Lords, Knights, & ladyes gent
mourned for her when shee went,
& be-wayled her tha t season.
the Queene began to make sorrow & care
when shee from the K ing shold fare
w i th wrong, against all reason.
forth they went, in number 3,
S i r Rodger, the Queene, & his greyhound trulye;
ah! o worth wicked treason!
then thought the steward trulye
to doe the Queene a villanye,
& to worke w i th her his will.
he ordained him a companye
of his owne men priuilye
tha t wold assent him till;
all vnder a Wood side they did lye
wheras the Queene shold passe by,
& held them wonderous still;
& there he thought verelye
his good Queene for to lye by,
his lusts for to fulfill.
& when hee came into the wood,
S i r Rodger & the Queene soe good,
& there to passe w i th-out doubt;
w i th tha t they were ware of the steward,
how hee was coming to them ward
w i th a ffull great rout.
“heere is treason!” then said the Queene.
“alas!” said Roger, “what may this meane?
w i th foes wee be sett round about.”
the K nigh t sayd, “heere will wee dwell;
Our liffe wee shall full deere sell,
be they neu er soe stout.
“Madam,” he sayd, “be not affrayd,
for I thinke heere w i th this sword
tha t I shall make them lowte.”
then cryed the steward to S i r Rodger on hye,
& said, “Lo rd , traitor! thou shalt dye!
for tha t I goe about.”
S i r Rodger said, “not for thee!
my death shalt thou deare abye;
for w i th thee will I fight.”
he went to him shortlye,
& old S i r Rodger bare him manfullye
like a full hardye Knight;
he hewed on them boldlye;
there was none of tha t companye
soe hardye nor sow wight.
S i r Rodger hitt one on the head
tha t to the girdle the sword yeed,
then was hee of them quitte;
he smote a stroke w i th a sword good
tha t all about them ran the blood,
soe sore he did them smite;
trulye-hee, his greyhound tha t was soo good,
did helpe his m aster , & by him stood,
& bitterlye can hee byte.
then tha t Lady, tha t fayre foode,
she feared Marrocke in her mood;
shee light on foote, & left her steede,
& ran fast, & wold not leaue,
& hid her vnder a greene greaue,
for shee was in great dread.
S i r Rodger then the Q ueene can behold,
& of his liffe he did nothing hold;
his good grayhound did help him indeed,
&, as itt is in the romans told,
14 he slew of yeomen bold;
soe he quitted him in tha t steade.
if hee had beene armed, I-wisse
all the Masterye had been his;
alas hee lacked weed.
as good S i r Rodger gaue a stroake,
behind him came S i r Marroccke,—
tha t euill might he speed,—
he smote S i r Rodger w i th a speare,
& to the ground he did him beare,
& fast tha t K nigh t did bleed.
S i r Marroccke gaue him such a wound
that he dyed there on ground,
& tha t was a sinfull deede.
now is Rodger slaine c er tainlye.
he rode forth & let him Lye,
& sought after the Queene.
fast hee rode, & sought eu er ye way,
yet wist he not where the Queene Laye
then said the traitor teene;
ou er all the wood hee her sought;
but as god wold, he found her nought.
then waxed he wrath, I weene,
& held his Iourney euill besett,
tha t w i th the Queene had not mett
to haue had his pleasure, the traitor keene.
& when he cold not the lady finde,
homeward they began to wend,
hard by where S i r Rodger Lay.
the steward him thrust throughout,
for of his death he had noe doubt,
& this the storye doth say.
& when the traitor had done soe,
he let him lye & went him froe,
& tooke noe thought tha t day;
yett all his companye was nye gone,
14 he left there dead for one;
there passed but 4 away.
then the Queene was ffull woe,
And shee saw tha t they were goe,
shee made sorrow & crye.
then shee rose & went againe
to S i r Rodger, & found him slaine;
his grey-hound by his feet did lye.
“alas,” shee said, “ tha t I was borne!
my trew K nigh t tha t I hane lorne,
they haue him there slaine!”
full pitteouslye shee mad her moane,
& said, “now must I goe alone!”
the grey-hound shee wold haue had full faine;
the hound still by his M aster did lye,
he licked his wounds, & did whine & crye.
this to see the Queene had paine,
& said, “S i r Roger, this hast thou for me!
alas tha t [it] shold eu er bee!”
her hayre shee tare in twayne;
& then shee went & tooke her steed,
& wold noe longer there abyde
lest men shold find her there.
shee said, “S i r Roger, now tho u art dead,
who will the right way now me lead?
for now thow mayst speake noe more.”
right on the ground there as he lay dead,
shee kist him or shee from him yead
god wott her hart was sore!
what for sorrow & dread,
fast away shee can her speede,
shee wist not wither nor where.
the good grayhound for waile & woe
from the K nigh t hee wold not goe,
but Lay & licked his wound;
he waite to haue healed them againe,
& therto he did his paine:
loe, such loue is in a hound!
this knight lay till he did stinke;
the greayhound he began to thinke,
& scraped a pitt anon;
therin he drew the dead corse,
& cou er ed itt w i th earth & Mosse,
& from him he wold not gone.
the grayhound lay still there;
this Q ueene gan forth to fare
for dread of her fone;
shee had great sorrow in her hart,
the thornes pricked her wonderous smart,
shee wist not wither to goe.
this lady forth fast can hye
into the land of Hugarye;
thither came shee w i th great woe.
at last shee came to a wood side,
but then cold shee noe further ryde,
her paynes tooke her soe.
shee lighted downe in tha t tyde,
for there shee did her trauncell abyde;
god wold tha t it shold be soe.
then shee w i th much paine
tyed her horsse by the rayne,
& rested her there till her paynes were goe.
shee was deliu er ed of a manchild sweete;
& when it began to crye & weepe,
it ioyed her hart greatlye.
soone after, when shee might stirr,
shee tooke her child to her full neere,
And wrapt itt full softlye.
What for wearye & for woe,
they fell a-sleepe both towe;
her steed stood her behind.
then came a K nigh t rydand there,
& found this ladye soe louelye of cheere
as hee hunted after the hind.
the K nigh t hight Bernard Mowswinge,
tha t found the Q ueene sleepinge,
vnder the greenwoode lyande.
softlye he went neere & neere;
he went on foot, & beheld her cheere,
as a K nigh t curteous & kind.
he awaked tha t ladye of beawtye;
shee looked on him pitteouslee,
& was affrayd full sore
he said, “what doe you here, Madame?
of whence be you, or whats y ou r name?
haue you yo u r men forlorne?”
“S i r,” shee sayd, “if you will witt,
my name is called Margerett;
in Arragon I was borne;
heere I sufferd much greefe;
helpe me, S i r, out of this Mischeefe!
att some towne tha t I were.”
the K nigh t beheld the Ladye good;
hee thought shee was of gentle blood
tha t was soe hard bestead;
he tooke her vp curteouslye,
& the child that lay her bye;
them both w i th him he led,
& made her haue a woman att will,
tendinge of her, as itt was skill,
all for to bring her a-bedd.
whatsoeu er shee wold haue,
shee needed itt not long to craue,
her speech was right soone sped.
thé christened the child w i th great hono u r,
& named him S i r T RYAMORE .
then they were of him glad;
great gifts to him was giuen
of Lo rd s & ladyes by-deene,
in bookes as I read.
there dwelled tha t Ladye longe
w i th much Ioy them amonge;
of her thé were neu er wearye.
the child was taught great nurterye;
a M aste r had him vnder his care,
& taught him curtesie
this child waxed wonderous well,
of great stature both of fleshe & fell;
eu er ye man loued him trulye,
of his companye all folke were glad;
indeed, noe other cause they had,
the child was gentle & bold.
Now of the Q ueene let wee bee,
& of the grayhound speake wee
tha t I erst of told.
long 7 yeeres, soe god me saue,
he did keepe his M asters graue,
till tha t hee waxed old;
this Gray-hound S i r Roger kept long,
& brought him vp sith he was younge,
in story as it is told;
therfore he kept soe there
for the space of 7 yeere,
& goe from him he ne wold.
eu er vpon his M aster s graue he lay,
there might noe man haue him away
for heat neither for cold,
w i thout it were once a day
he ran about to gett his prey
of beasts that were bold,
conyes, when he can them gett;
thus wold he labor for his meate,
yett great hungar he had in how.
& 7 yeeres he dwelled there,
till itt beffell on tha t yeere,
euen on christmasse day,
the gray-hound (as the story sayes)
came to the K ing s palace
without any delay.
when they Lor ds were sett at meate, soone
the grayhound into the hall runn
amonge the knights gay;
all about he can behold,
but he see not what hee wold;
then went he his way full right
when he had sought & cold not find;
ffull gentlye he did his kind,
speed better when he might.
the grayhound ran forth his way
till he came where his M aster Lay,
as fast as eu er he mought
the king marueiled at tha t deed,
from whence he went, & whither he yeed,
or who him thither brought.
the K ing thought he had seene him ere,
but he wist not well where,
therfor he said right nought.
soone he bethought him then
tha t he did him erst ken,
& still stayd in tha t thought.
the other day, in the same wise,
when the K ing shold from his meate rise,
the Grayhound came in thoe;
all about there he sought,
but the steward found he nought;
then againe he began to goe.
the[n] sayd the K ing in tha t stond,
“methinkes it is S i r Rogers hound
tha t went forth with the Queene;
I trow they be come againe to this land.
L o r d s, all this I vnderstand,
it may right well soe bee;
“if tha t they be into this Land come,
we shall haue word therof soone
& w i thin short space;
for neu er since thé went I-wisse
I saw not the gray hound ere this;
it is a marueilous case!
“when he cometh againe, follow him,
fo[r] eu er more he will run
to his M aster s dwelling place;
run & goe, looke ye not spare,
till tha t yee come there
to S i r Rodger & my Queene.”
then the 3 day, amonge them all
the grayhound came into the hall,
to meate ere thé were sett.
Marrocke the steward was w i thin,
the grayhound thought he wold not blin
till he w i th him had mett;
he tooke the steward by the throte,
& assunder he it bote;
but then he wold not byde,
for to his graue he rann.
there follolwed him many a man,
some on horsse, some beside;
& when he came where his M aster was,
he Layd him downe beside the grasse
And barked at the men againe.
there might noe man him from the place gett,
& yett w i th staues thé did him beate,
tha t he was almost slaine.
& when the men saw noe better boote,
then the men yeed home on horsse & foote,
w i th great wonder, I weene.
the K ing said, “by gods paine,
I trow S i r Marrocke hath S i r Rodger slaine,
& w i th treason famed my Queene.
“goe yee & seeke there againe;
for the hounds M aster there is slaine,
some treason there hath beene.”
thither they went, soe god me saue,
& found S i r Roger in his graue,
for tha t was soone seene:
& there they looked him there vpon,
for he was hole both flesh & bone,
& to the court his body they brought.
for when the K ing did him see,
the teares ran downe from his eye,
full sore itt him forethought.
the grayhound he wold not from his course fare:
then was the K ing cast in care,
& said, “Marroccke hath done me teene;
slaine he hath a curteous K nigh t,
& fained my Q ueene w i th great vnright,
as a traitor keene.”
the K ing let draw anon-right
the stewards bodye, tha t false K nigh t,
w i th horsse through the towne;
then he hanged him on a tree,
tha t all men might his body see,
tha t he had done treason.
S i r Rogers Body the next day
the K ing buryed in good array,
w i th many a bold baron.
the Grayhound was neu er away
by night nor yet by day,
but on the ground he did dye
the K ing did send his messengere
in eu er ye place far & neere
after the Queene to spye;
but for ought he cold enquire,
he cold of tha t Ladye nothing heare;
therfore the K ing was sorrye
the K ing sayd, “I trow noe reed,
for well I wott tha t shee is dead;
for sorrowe now shall I dye!
alas, tha t eu er shee from mee went!
this false steward hath me shent
throughe his false treacherye.”
this K ing liued in great sorrow
both euening & morrow
till tha t hee were brought to ground.
he liued thus many a yeere
w i th mourning & w i th euill cheere,
his sorrowes lasted long:
& eu er it did him great paine
when hee did thinke how S i r Roger was slaine,
& how helped him his hound;
& of his Q ueene tha t was soe Mylde,
how shee went from him great w i th child;
for woe then did hee sound.
long time thus liued the K ing
in great sorrow & Mourning,
& oftentime did weepe;
he tooke great thought more & more,
It made his hart verrye sore,
his sighs were sett soe deepe.
now of the K ing wee will bline,
& of the Queene let vs begin,
& S i r Tryamore;
for when he was 14 yeere old,
there was noe man soe bold
durst doe him dishonor;
in eu er ye time both stout & stronge,
& in stature large & longe,
comlye of hye color;
all tha t eu er he dwelled amonge,
he neu er did none of them wronge,
the more tha t was his honor.
in tha t time sikerlye
dyed the K ing of Hungarye
tha t was of great age I-wiss;
he had no heire his land to hold
but a daughter was 14 yeers old;
faire [Hellen] shee named is.
shee was as white as lilye flower,
& comely, of gay color,
the fairest of any towne or tower;
shee was well shapen of foote & hand,
peere shee had none in noe land,
shee was soe fresh & soe amorous.
for when her father was dead,
great warr began to spread
in tha t land about;
then the Ladyes councell gan her reade,
‘gett her a lord her land to lead,
to rule the realme w i thout doubt;
some mightye prince tha t well might
rule her land w i th reason & right,
tha t all men to him might Lout.’
& when her councell had sayd soe,
for great need shee had therto,
shee graunted them w i thout Lye:
the Lady said, “I will not feare
but he [be] prince or princes peere,
& cheefe of all chiualrye”
therto shee did consent,
& gaue her Lords com m andement
a great Iusting for to crye;
& at the Iustine, shold soe bee,
what man tha t shold win the degree,
shold win tha t Ladye trulye.
the day of Iusting then was sett,
halfe a yeere w i thout lett,
w i thout any more delay,
because thé might haue good space,
Lords, k nigh ts, dukes, in eu er ye place,
for to be there tha t day.
Lords, the best in eu er ye Land,
hard tell of tha t rydand,
& made them readye full gay;
of eu er ye land there was the best,
of the States tha t were honest
attyred many a Lady gay.
great was tha t chiualrye
tha t came tha t time to H UNGARYE ,
there for to Iust w i th might
at last T RIAMORE hard tyding
that there shold be a Iusting;
thither wold he wend.
if he wist tha t he might gaine
w i th all his might, he wold be faine
tha t gay Ladye for to win;
hee had noe horsse nay noe other geere,
Nor noe weapon w i th him to beare;
tha t brake his hart in twaine.
he thought both euen & morrow
where he might some armour borrowe,
therof wold hee be faine
to S i r Barnard then he can wend,
tha t he wold armour lend
to iust against the knights amaine.
then said S i r Barnard, “what hast thou thought?
p ar dew! of iusting thou canst nought!
for yee bee not able wepon to weld”
“S i r,” said T RIAMORE , “what wott yee
of what strenght tha t I bee
till I haue assayd in feeld?”
then S i r Barnard tha t was full hend,
said, “T RIAMOR ”, if thow wilt wend,
thou shalt lacke noe weed;
I will lend thee all my geere,
horsse & harneis, sheild & spere,
thou art nothing to dread;
“alsoe thither w i th thee will I ryde,
& eu er nye be by thy side
to helpe thee if thou haue need;
all things tha t thow wilt haue,
gold & siluer, if thow wilt craue,
thy Iourney for to speed.”
then was T RIAMORE glad & light,
& thanked Barnard w i th all his might
of his great p ro feringe
tha t day the Iusting shold bee,
T RIAMORE sett him on his knee
& asked his mother blessinge.
at home shee wold haue kept him faine;
but all her labor was in vaine,
there might be noe letting.
shee saw it wold noe better bee,
her blessing shee gaue him verelye
w[i]th full sore weepinge.
& when it was on the Morrow day,
T RIAMORE was in good array,
armed & well dight;
when he was sett on his steed,
he was a man both lenght & bread,
& goodlye in mans sight.
then T RIAMORE to the feeld can ryde,
& S i r Barnard by his side;
they were Iocund & light;
there was none in all the feild
tha t was more seemlye vnder sheild;
he rode full like a knight.
then was the faire Lady sett
full hye vppon a turrett,
for to behold tha t play;
there was many a seemlye K night ,
princes, Lords, & dukes of Might,
themselues for to assay,
w i th helme on theire heads bright
tha t all the feelds shone w i th light,
they were soe stout & gay:
then S i r TRIAMORE & S i r B ARNARD
thé pressed them into the feeld forward,
there durst noe man say nay.
there was much price & pride
when eu er ye man to other can ryde,
& lords of great renowne;
it beffell TRIAMORE tha t tyde
for to be on his fathers side,
the King of Arragon.
the first tha t rode forth certainlye
was a great Lord of Lumbardye,
a wonderfull bold Barron.
T RIAMOR rode him againe:
for all tha t lord had Might & maine,
the child bare him downe.
then cryed S i r Barnard w i th honor,
“A TRIAMOR , a TRIAMOR !”
for men shold him ken.
Mayd Hellen tha t was soe mild,
more shee beheld TRIAMORE the child
then all the other men.
then the K ing s sonne of Nauarine
wold not his body warne;
he pricked forth on the plaine.
then young Triamore tha t was stout,
turned himselfe round about,
& fast rode him againe;
soe neither of them were to ground cast,
they sate soe wonderous fast,
like men of much might
then came forth a Bachelour,
a prince proud w i thout peere;
S i r Iames, forsooth, he hight;
he was the Emperours sonne of Almaigne;
he rode S i r TRIAMORE againe,
w i th hard strenght to fight
S i r Iames had such a stroake indeed
tha t he was tumbled from his steed;
then failed all his might.
there men might see swords brast,
helmes ne sheilds might not last;
& thus it dured till night;
but when the sun drew neere west,
and all the Lords went to rerst,
[Not so the maide Elyne]
the K nigh ts attired them in good arraye,
on steeds great, w i th trappers gaye,
before the sun can shine;
then to the feeld thé pricked prest,
& e ue rye man thought himselfe best
[As the mayden faire they paste.]
then they feirclye ran together,
great speres in peeces did shim m er,
their timber might not last.
& at tha t time there did run
the K ing Arradas of Arragon:
his sonne Triiamore mett him in tha t tyde,
& gaue his father such a rebound
tha t harse & man fell to the ground,
soe stoutlye gan he ryde.
then the next K nigh t tha t hee mett
was S i r Iames; & such a stroake him sett
vpon the sheild ther on the plaine
tha t the blood brast out at his nose & eares,
his steed vnto the ground him beares;
then was S i r Barnard faine.
tha t Maid of great honor
sett her loue on younge TRIAMORE
tha t fought alwayes as a feirce Lyon.
speres tha t day many were spent,
& w i th swords there was many a stripe lent,
till the[re] failed light of the sunn.
on the Morrow all they were faine
for to come into the feild againe
w i th great spere & sheild.
then the Duke of Siuille, S i r Phylar,
tha t was a doughtye knight in eu er ye warr,
he rode first into the feild;
& Triamore tooke his spere,
against the Duke he can it beare,
& smote him in the sheild;
a-sunder in 2 peeces it went;
& then many a louelye Lady gent,
full well they him beheld.
then came forth a K nigh t tha t hight Terrey,
hee was a great Lo rd of Surrey,
he thought Noble T RIAMORE to assayle;
& T RIAMORE rode to him blithe
in all the strenght tha t he might driue,
he thought he wold not fayle;
he smote him soe in tha t stond
tha t horsse & man fell to the ground,
soe sore his stroke he sett.
then durst noe man att TRIAMORE [ride,]
for fortune held all on his side
all those dayes 3
S i r Iames, sonne vnto the Emperour,
had enuye to S i r Triamore,
and laid wait for him priuilye.
att the last T RIAMORE came ryding bye.
S i r Iames said, “Triamore! thou shalt dye,
for thou hast done me shame”
he rode to Triamore w i th a spere,
& thorrow the thigh he can him beare;
he had almost him slaine.
but Tryamore hitt him in the head
tha t he fell downe starke dead.
then was all his men woe;
then wold they haue slaine Tryamore
w i thout he had had great succour;
they purposed to doe soe.
w i th tha t came K ing Arradas then,
& reschued Tryamore w i th all his men,
tha t stood in great doubt.
then S i r Barnard was full woe
tha t Tryamore was hurt soe;
then to his owne house he him brought.
but when the Mother saw her sonns wound,
shee fell downe for sorrow to the ground,
& after a Leeche shee sent.
of this, all the Lords tha t were Iustinge,
to the pallace made highinge,
& to tha t Ladye went
truly, as the story sayes,
thé pricked forth to the pallace
the Ladyes will to heare,
Bachelours & k nigh ts prest,
tha t shee might choose of them the best
w hi ch to her faynest were.
the Ladye beheld all tha t fayre Meanye,
but Tryamore shee cold not see:
tho chaunged all her cheere,
then shee sayd “Lo rd , where is hee
tha t eu er ye day wan the degree?
I chuse him to my peere.”
al about thé Tryamore sought;
he was ryddn home; thé found him nought;
then was tha t Ladye woe.
the K nigh ts were afore her brought,
& of respite shee them besought,
a yeare & noe more:
shee said, “Lords, soe god me saue!
he tha t wan me, he shall me haue;
ye wot well tha t my cry was soe.”
thé all consented her vntill,
for shee said Nothing ill,
thé said it shold be soe.
for when they had all sayd,
then answered tha t fayre Mayd,
“I will haue none but Tryamore.”
then all the Lo rd s tha t were p re sent
tooke their Leaue, & home went;
there wan thé litle honor.
S i r Iames men were nothing faine
because their M aster , he was slaine,
That was soe stout in stowre;
in chaire his body thé Layd,
& led him home, as I haue sayd,
vnto his father the Emperour;
& when tha t hee his sonne gan see,
a sorrye man then was hee,
& asked ‘who had done tha t dishonor?’
thé sayd “wee [ne] wott who it is I-wisse,
but S i r Tryamore he named is,
soe thé called him in the crye;
“the K ing of Arragon alsoe,
he helped thy sonne to sloe,
w i th all his companye.”
they said, “thé be good warryoirs;
they byte vs w i th sharpe showers
w i th great villanye.”
“Alas!” said the Emperour,
“till I be reuenged on tha t traytour,
now shall I neu er cease!
thé shall haue many a sharpe shower,
both the K ing & Tryamore,
they shall neu er haue peace!”
the Emperour sayd thé shold repent;
& after great companye he sent
of princes bold in presse,
Dukes, Earles, & lords of price.
w i th a great armye, the Duke sayes,
thé yeed to Arragon w i thout lesse.
K ing Arradas was a-dread
for the Emperour such power had,
tha t battell hee wold him bid;
he saw his land nye ou er -gon,
& to a castle hee fledd anon,
& victualls it for dread.
the Emperour was bold & stout,
& beseeged the castle about;
his banner he began to spread,
& arrayd his host full well & wiselye,
w i th wepons strong & mightye
he thought to make them dread.
the Emperour was bold & stout,
& beseeged the castle about,
& his banner he gan to spread;
he gaue assault to the hold.
K ing Arradas was stout & bold,
ordayned him full well.
w i th gunes & great stones round
were throwne downe to the ground,
& on the men were cast;
they brake many backes & bones,
tha t they fought eu er ye[day] ones
while 7 weekes did last.
the Emperour was hurt ill therfore,
his men were hurt sore,
all his Ioy was past.
K ing Arradas thought full longe
tha t hee was beseeged soe stronge,
w i th soe much might & maine:
2 Lords forth a Message he sent,
& straight to the Emperour thé went
soe when they cold him see,
of peace they can him pray,
to take truce till a certaine day.
thé kneeled downe on their knee,
& said, “our K ing sendeth word to thee
tha t he neu er yo u r sonne did slay,
soe he wold quitt him faine;
he was not then p re sent,
nor did noe wise consent
tha t yo u r sonne was slaine.
That [he] will proue, if you will soe,
yo u r selfe and he betweene you tow,
if you will it sayne;
“or else take yo u r selfe a K nigh t,
& he will gett another to fight
on a certaine day:
if tha t yo u r K nigh t hap soe
ours for to discomfort or sloe,
as by fortune itt may,
our K ing then will doe yo u r will,
be att yo u r bidding lowde & still
w i thout more delay;
“& alsoe if it you betyde
tha t yo u r k nigh t on yo u r syde
be slaine by Mischance,
My Lord shall make yo u r warr to cease,
[and we shall after be at pease,]
w i thout any distance.”
the Emperour said w i thout fayle
“sett a day of Battell
by assent of the K ing of france;”
for he had a great Campiowne,
in eu er ye realme he wan renowne;
soe the Emperour ceased his distance.
when peace was made, & truce came,
then K ing Arradas were a Ioyfull man,
& trusted vnto Tryamore.
Soe after him he went w i thout fayle,
for to doe the great battelle
to his helpe & succour.
his Messengers were come & gone,
tydings of him hard thé none.
the K ing Arradas thought him long,
“& he be dead, I may say alas!
who shall then fight w i th Marradais
tha t is soe stout & stronge?”
when Tryamore was whole & sound,
& well healed of his wound,
he busked him for to fare;
he sayd, “mother,” w i th mild cheere,
“& I wist what my father were,
the lesse were my care”
“sonne,” shee said, “thou shalt witt;
when thou hast Marryed tha t Ladye sweet,
thy father thou shalt ken”
“mother,” he said, “if you will [soe,]
haue good day, for now I goe
to doe my Masteryes if I can”
then rode he ou er dale & downe
vntill he came to Arragon,
ou er many a weary way.
aduentures many him befell,
& all he scaped full well,
in all his great Iourney.
he saw many a wild beast
both in heath & in forrest;
he had good grey-hounds 3;
then to a hart he let them run
till 14 fosters spyed him soone,
soe threatened him greatlye;
they yeede to him w i th weapons on eu er ye side;
it was noe boote to bid them byde;
Tryamore was loth to flye,
& said vnto them, “Lo rd s, I you pray,
lett me in peace wend my way
to seeke my grayhounds 3.”
then said Tryamore as in this time,
“gold & siluer, take all mine
if tha t I haue tresspassed ought.”
Thé said, “wee will meete w i th thy anon,
there shall noe gold borrow thee soone,
but in prison thou shalt be brought,
Such is the law of the ground;
Whosoeu er therin may be found,
other way goe thé nought.”
then S i r Tryamore was full woe
tha t to prison he shold goe;
hee thought the flesh to deare bought.
there was no more to say,
the fosters att him gan lay
w i th strokes sterne and stout.
there Tryamore w i th them fought;
some to the ground be brought;
he made them lowe to looke;
some of them fast gan pray,
the other fled fast away
w i th wounds wyde tha t they sought.
Tryamore sought & found his gray-hounds;
he hear[k]ned to their yerning sounds,
& thought not for to leaue them soe.
at last he came to a water side;
there he saw the beast abyde
tha t had slaine 2 of his grayhounds;
the 3 full sore troubled the hind,
& he hurt him w i th his trinde;
then was Tryamore woe.
if the battaile had lasted a while,
the hart wold the hound beguile,
& take his life for eu er more.
Tryamore smote att the deere,
and to the hart went the spere;
then his horne he blew full sore.
the K ing Lay there beside
at Manno u r tha t same tide;
he hard a horne blowe;
they had great wonder in hall,
both K nigh ts, Squiers, & all,
for noe man cold it know
w i th tha t ran in a foster
into the hall w i th euill cheere,
& was full sorry, I trow.
the K ing of tydings gan him fraine;
he answered, “S i r K ing , yo u r Keepers be slaine,
and lye dead on a rowe
there came a k nigh t tha t was mightye,
he let 3 grayhounds tha t were wightye,
& laid my fellowes full lowe:”
he sayd, it was full true
tha t the same tha t the horne blew
tha t all this sorrow hath wrought.
King Arradas said then,
“I haue great need of such of a man;
god hath him hither brought.”
the K ing com m anded K nigh ts 3,
he said, “goe feitch yond gentleman to me
tha t is now at his play;
looke noe ill words w i th him yee breake,
but pray him w i th me for to speake;
I trow he will not say nay.”
Eu er ye knight his steed hent,
& lightlye to the wood thé went
to seeke Tryamore tha t child.
thé found him by a water side
where he brake the beast tha t tyde,
tha t hart tha t was soe wylde.
thé said, “S i r! god be at yo u r game!”
he answered them euen the same;
then was he frayd of guile.
“S i r K nigh t!” they said, “is itt yo u r will
to come & speake our K ing vntill
w i th word[e]s meeke & mylde?”
Tryamore asked shortlye,
“what hight yo u r K ing , tell yee mee,
tha t is lord of this land?”
“this Land hight Arragon,
& our K ing , Arradas, w i th crowne;
his place his heire att hand.”
Tryamore went vnto the K[ ing ,]
& he was glad of his cominge,
he knew him att first sight;
the K ing tooke him by the hand,
& said, “welcome into this land!”
& asked him what he hight.
“S i r, my name is Tryamore;
once you helpt me in a stowre
as a noble man of might;
& now I am here in thy Land;
soe was I neu er erst, as I vnderstand,
by god full of might.”
when the K ing wist it was hee,
his hart reioced greatlye;
3 times he did downe fall,
& [said] “Tryamore, welcome to me!
great sorrowe & care I haue had for thee;”
and he told him al;
“w i th the Emperour I tooke a day
[to] defend me if tha t I may;
to Iesu I will call;
for I neu er his sonne slew;
god he knoweth I speake but true,
& helpe me I trust he shall!”
then said Tryamore thoe, [“I am fulle woe]
tha t you for me haue beene greeued soe,
if I might it amend;
& att the day of battell
I trust to proue my might as well,
if god will grace me send.”
then was K ing Arradas very glad,
and of Marradas was not adread:
when he to the batteile shold wend,
he ioyed tha t he shold well speed,
for Tryamore was warry at neede
against his enemye to defend.
there Tryamore dwelled w i th the K ing
many a weeke w i thout lettinge;
he lacked right nought.
& when the day of battayle was came,
the Emperour w i th his men hasted full soone,
& manye wonder thought;
he brought thither both K ing & K nigh t;
& Marradas, tha t was of might,
to batteille he him brought.
there was many a seemelye man,
moe then I tell you can;
of them all he ne wrought.
both p ar tyes tha t ilke day
into the feeld tooke the way,
they were already dight.
the K ing there kissed Tryamore,
& sayd, “I make thee mine [heyre] this hower,
& dubb thee a k nigh t.”
“S i r,” said Tryamore, “take no dread;
I trust Iesus will me speede,
for you be in the right;
therfore through gods grace
I will fight for you in this place
w i th the helpe of our Lords might!”
both p ar tyes were full swore
to hold the p ro mise tha t was made before;
to Iesus can hee call.
S i r Tryamore & S i r Marradas
both well armed was
amonge the Lords all;
eche of them were sett on steede;
all men of Tryamore had dreede,
tha t was soe hind in all
Marradas was stiffe & sure,
their might noe man his stroake endure,
But tha t he made them fall.
then rode they together full right;
w i th sharpe speres & swords bright
they smote together sore;
thé spent speres & brake sheelds,
thé busled fowle in middest the feelds,
either fomed as doth a bore.
all th é wondred tha t beheld
how thé fought in the feeld;
there was but a liffe.
Marradas fared fyer wood
because Tryamore soe long stood;
sore gan hee smite.
S i r Tryamore fayled of Marradas,
tha t sword lighted vpon his horsse,
the sword to ground gan light.
Marradas said, “it is great shame
on a steed to wreake his game!
thou sholdest rather smite mee!”
Tryamore swore, by gods might
I had leuer it had on thee light!
then I wold not be sorye;
“but here I giue thee steede mine
because I haue slaine thine;
by my will it shalbe soe.”
Marradas sayd, “I will [him] nought
till I haue him with stroakes bought,”
[and won him from my foe.]
& Tryamore lighted from his horsse,
& to Marradas straight he goes,
for both on foote they did light.
S i r Tryamore spared him nought,
[But evyr in his hert he thoght]
“this day was I made a K nigh t!”
& thought tha t hee himselfe wold be slaine soone,
“or else of him I will win my shoone
throughe gods might.”
thé laid eche at other w i th good will
w i th sharpe swords made of steele;
tha t saw many a knight.
great wonder it was to behold
the stroakes tha t was betwixt them soe bold;
all men might it see.
thé were weary, & had soe greatlye bled;
Marradas was sore adread,
he fainted then greatlye;
& tha t Tryamore lightlye beheld,
& fought feerclye in the feeld;
he stroke Marradas soe sore
tha t the sword through the body ran.
then was the Emperour a sorry man;
he made thenn peace for eu er -more;
he kissed the K ing , & was his freind,
& tooke his leauee homewards to wend;
noe longer there dwell wold hee.
then K ing Arradas & Tryamore
went to the palace w i th great honor,
into tha t rych citye.
there was ioy w i thout care,
& all they had great welfare,
there might no better bee;
they hunted & rode many a where,
full great pleasure they had there.
among the knights of price
the K ing p ro fered him full fayre,
& sayd, “Tryamore, Ile make thee mine heyre,
for thou art strong & wise.”
S i r Tryamore said, “S i r, trulye
into other countryes goe will I;
I desire of you but a steed,
& to other lands will I goe
some great aduentures for to doe,
thus will I my liffe lead.”
the K ing was verry sorry tho;
when tha t hee wold from him goe,
he gaue him a sure weede,
& plenty of siluer & gold,
& a steed as hee wold,
tha t nothing wold feare
hee tooke his leaue of the King,
And mourned at his dep ar ting,
then hasted he him there;
the K ing sayd, “Tryamor! tha t is mine,
when thou list it shall be thine,
all my kingdome lesse & more”
Now is Tryamore forth goe;
Lords & ladyes were full woe,
eu er ye man loued him there.
Tryamore rode in hast trulye
into the Land of Hungarye,
aduentures for to seeke.
betweene 2 mountaines, the sooth to say,
he rode forth on his way;
w i th a palmer he did meete;
he asked almes for gods sake,
& Tryamore him not forgate,
he gaue him w i th words sweete.
the palmer said, “turne yee againe,
or else I feare you wilbe slaine;
you may not passe but you be beat”
Tryamore asked “why soe?”
“S i r,” he said, “there be brethren towe
tha t on the mountaine dwells.”
“faith,” said Tryamore, “if there be no more,
I trust in god tha t way to goe,
if this be true tha t thou tells.”
he bade the palmer good day,
& rode forth on his way
ou er heath & feelds;
the palmer prayed to him full fast,
Tryamore was not agast,
he blew his horne full shrill.
he had not rydden but a while,
not the Mountenance of a mile,
2 k nigh ts he saw on a hill:
the one of them to him gan ryde,
they other still gan abyde
a litle there beside.
& when thé did Tryamore spye,
thé said, “turne thee traytor, or thou shalt dye,
therfore stand & abyde!”
either againe other gan ryd fast,
theire strokes mad their speres to brast,
& made them wounds full wyde.
the other k nigh t tha t houed soe,
wondred tha t Tryamore dared soe:
he rode to them tha t tyde
& dep ar ted them in twaine,
& to speake fayre he began to fraine
w i th words tha t sounded well:
to Tryamore he sayd anon,
“a doughtyer K nigh t I neu er saw none!
thy name tha t thou vs tell.”
Tryamore said, “first will I wett
why tha t you doe keepe this street,
& where tha t you doe dwell.”
thé said, “wee had a brother hight Marradas,
w i th the Emperour forsooth he was,
a stronge man well I-know,
in Arragon, before the Emperour,
a k nigh t called S i r Tryamore
in battel there him slew;
“& alsoe wee say another,
Burlong our elder brother,
as a man of much might;
he hath beseeged soothlye
the K ing s daughter of H UNGARVE ;
to wed her he hath height;
“& soe well hee hath sped
tha t hee shall tha t Lady wedd
but shee may find a K nigh t
tha t B URLONGE ou er come may;
to tha t they haue tooke a day,
wage battel & fight;
“for tha t same Tryamore
loued tha t Ladye paramoure,
as it is before told;
if he will to Hungarye,
needs must he come vs by;
to meete w i th him wee wold.”
Tryamore said, “I say not nay,
but my name I will tell this day,
in faith I will not Laine:
thinke yo u r Iourney well besett,
for w i th Tryamore you haue mett
tha t yo u r brother hath slaine.”
“welcome!” thé said, “Tryamore!
his death shalt thou repent sore;
thy sorrow shall begin
yeeld thee to vs anon,
for thou shalt not from vs gone
by noe manner of gin.”
thé smote feircly att him tho,
& Tryamore against them 2
w i thout more delay.
S i r Tryamore proued him full prest,
he brake their spere on their brest,
hee had such assay;
his sheeld was broken in peeces 3,
his horsse was smitten on his knee,
soe hard att him thé thrust.
S i r Tryamore was then right wood,
& slew the one there as he stood
w i th his sword full prest.
tha t other rode his way,
his hart was in great affray,
yet he turned againe tha t tide,—
when Tryamore had slaine his brother,
a sorry man then was the other,—
& straight againe to him did rydde;
then they 2 sore foughte
tha t the other to the ground was brought
then were thé both slaine.
tho the Ladye on Tryamore thought,
for of him shee knew right nought,
shee wist not what to say.
the day was come tha t was sett,
the Lords assembled w i thout lett,
all in good array.
Burlonge was redye dight,
he bade the Lady send the K nigh t
shee answered “I ne may:”
for in tha t castle shee had hight
to keepe her w i th all her might,
as the story doth say.
thé said, “if Tryamore be aliue,
hither will hee come blithe;
god send vs good grace to speed!”
w i th tha t came in S i r Tryamore
in the thickest of tha t stower,
into the feild w i thout dread.
he asked ‘what all tha t did meane’
the people shewed tha t a battel there shold beene
for the loue of tha t Ladye.
he saw B URLONG on his steede,
& straight to him he yeede;
tha t Ladye challengeth hee.
Burlong asked him if he wold fight.
Tryamore said, “w i th all [my] might
to slay thee, or thou me.”
anon thé made them readye,
& none there knew him sikerlye,
thé wondred what he shold bee.
high on a tower stood tha t good Ladye;
shee knew not what K nigh t verelye
tha t w i th Burlong did fight
fast shee asked of her men
‘if tha t K nigh t they cold ken
tha t to battell was dight;
‘a griffon he beareth all of blew.’
a herald of armes soone him knew,
& said anon-right,
“Madame! god hath sent you succor;
for yonder is Tryamore
That w i th Burlong will fight”
to Iesus gan the Ladye pray
for to speed him on his Iourney
that hee about yeed.
then those K nigh ts ran together,
the speres in peeces gan shiuer,
thé fought full sore indeed;
there was noe man in the feild tho
who shold haue the better of them tow,
soe mightilye they did them beare.
the Battel lasted wonderous long;
though Burlong was neu er soe stronge,
there found he his peere.
Tryamore a stroke to him mint,
his sword fell downe at tha t dint
out of his hand him froe.
then was Burlong verry glad,
& the Ladye was verry sad,
& many more full woe.
Tryamore asked his sword againe,
but Burlong gan him fraine
to know first his name;
& said, “tell me first what thou hight,
& why thou challengeth the Ladye bright,
then shalt thou haue thy sword againe.”
Tryamore sayd, “soe mote I thee,
My name I will tell trulye,
therof I will not doubt;
men call me S i r Tryamore,
I wan this Ladye in a stowre
among Barrons stout.”
then said Burlong, “thou it was
tha t slew my brother Marradas!
a faire hap thee befell!”
S i r Tryamore sayd to him tho,
“soe haue I done thy Brethren
tha t on the Mountaines did dwell.”
Burlong said, “woe may thou bee,
for thou hast slaine my brethren 3!
sorrow hast thou sought!
thy sword getts thou neu er againe
till I be avenged, & thou slaine;
now I am well bethought!”
S i r Tryamore sayd, “noe force tho,
thou shalt repent it ere thou goe;
doe forth! I dread thee nought!”
Burlong to smite was readye bowne,
his feete slipt, & hee fell downe,
& Tryamore right well nought,
his sword lightlye he vp hent,
& to Burlonge fast he went;
for nothing wold he flee;
& as he wold haue risen againe,
he smote his leggs euen in twaine
hard fast by the knee.
Tryamore bade him “stand vpright,
& all men may see now in fight
wee beene meete of a size.”
S i r Tryamore suffered him
to take another weapon,
as a knight of much prize.
Burlong on his stumpes stood
as a man tha t was nye wood,
& fought wonderous hard
& S i r Tryamore strake stroakes sure,
for he cold well endure;
of him hee was not affrayd,
& vnder his ventale
his head he smote of w i thout fayle;
w i th tha t in peeces his sword brast.
Now is Burlong slaine,
& Triamore w i th maine
into the Castle went,
to the Ladye tha t was full bright;
& att the gates shee mett the K nigh t,
& in her armes shee him hent.
Shee said, “welcome s i r Tryamore!
for you haue bought my loue full deere,
my hart is on you lent!”
then said all the Barrons bold,
“of him wee will our lands hold;”
& therto they did assent.
there is noe more to say,
but they haue taken a certaine day
tha t they both shalbe wed.
S i r Tryamore for his mother sent,
a Messenger for her went,
& into the castle he[r] led.
Tryamore to his mother gan saine,
“my father I wold know faine,
sith I haue soe well sped.”
shee said, “K ing Arraydas of Arragon,
is thy father, & thou his owne sonne;
I was his wedded Queene;
“a leasing was borne me in hand,
& falsely fleamed me out of his land
by a traitor Keene,
S i r Marrockee thé hight: he did me woe,
& S i r Rodger my knight he did sloe,
tha t my guide shold haue beene.”
& when tha t Tryamore all heard,
& how his mother shee had sayd,
letters he made & wrought;
he prayd K ing Arradas to come him till,
if tha t it were his will,
thus he him besought:
‘if hee will come into H UNGARYE
for his Manhood & his Masterye,
& tha t he wold fayle in nought.’
then was K ing Arradas verry glad;
the Messengers great guifts had
for they tydings tha t they brought.
the day was come tha t was sett,
the L ord s came thither w i thout let,
& ladyes of great pryde;
then wold they noe longer lett;
shortlye after they are fett,
w i th 2 dukes on eu er ye side;
they lady to the church thé led;
a Bishopp them together did wed,
in full great hast thé hyed.
soone after tha t weddinge
S i r Tryamore was crowned K ing ,
they wold noe longer abyde.
the Q ueene , his mother Margarett,
before the K ing shee was sett
in a goodlye cheare
K ing Arradas beheld his Queene,
him thought tha t hee had her seenc,
shee was a ladye fayre;
the K ing said, “it is yo u r will
yo u r name me for to tell,
I pray you w i th words fayre.”
“my Lord,” sayd [she,] “I was yo u r Queene;
yo u r steward did me ill teene;
tha t euill might him befalle!”
the K ing spake noe more words
till the clothes were drawen from the bords,
& men rose in the hall.
& by the hand he tooke the Q ueene gent;
soe in the chamber forth he went,
& there shee told him all.
then was there great Ioy & blisse!
when they together gan kisse,
then all they companye made Ioy enough.
the younge Queene [was] full glad
tha t shee a K ing s sonne to her Lord had,
shee was glad, I trowe;
in Ioy together lead their liffe
all their dayes w i thout striffe,
& liued many a fayre yeere.
Then king Arradas & his Queene
had ioy enough them betweene,
& merrilye liued together.
& thus wee leaue of Tryamore
tha t liued long in great honor
with the fayre H ELLENE
I pray god giue their soules good rest,
& all tha t haue heard this litle Iest,
highe heauen for to win!
god grant vs all to haue tha t grace,
him for to see in the celestyall place!
I pray you all to say Amen!
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