¶ Kynge Rycharde cuer du lyon.
¶ The prologue.
LOrde kynge of glorye
Suche grace and suche vyctorye
Thou sendest to kynge Rychard
That neuer was founde coward
It is good to here Iestes
Of his prowesse and his conquestes
Many romayns men make newe
Of good knyghtes and of trewe
Of theyr dedes men rede romauns
Bothe in Englonde and in Fraunce
Of Rowlande and of Olyuere
And of euery defepere
Of Alysaunder and of Charlemayne
Of kynge Arthur and of Gawayne
How they were knyghtes good and curtoys
Of Turpyn and of Oger the danoys
Of troye men rede in ryme
What was by olde tyme
Of Hector and of Achylles
What folke they slewe in prees
In fraunce these rymes were wrought
Euery englysshe ne knewe it nought
Lewde man can frensshe none
Of an hondred vnneth one
Neuertheles with gladde chere
Yf that ye wyll now here
Newe Iestes I vnderstonde
Of doughty knyghtes of Englonde
Therfore now I wyll you rede
Of a kynge doughty of dede
Kynge Rycharde was the beste
That is founde in ony Ieste
Now all that here this talkynge
God gyue them good endynge
¶ Here begynneth the hystorye of Kynge Rycharde cure du lyon / and fyrst of his byrth.
LOrdes harken now beforne
How kynge Rycharde was borne
His fader was cleped kynge Harry
In his tyme sykerly
As I fynde in this sawe
Saynt Thomas was Islawe
At Caunterbury before the auter stone
There myracles be done many one
Whan he was .xx. wynter olde
He was a kynge swythe bolde
He wolde no wyfe I vnderstonde
With grete tresour thoughe they her fonde
Neuertheles his barons hym redde
That he graunted them a wyfe to wedde
Hastely he sente his sonde
In to many a dyuers londe
The fayrest woman that was on lyue
They sholde brynge hym to wyue
Messengers be redy dyght
To shyppe they wente that same nyght
And theyr sayle vp they drowe
The wynde them serued well I nowe
And they came amyddes the see
No wyndes brethe ne had he
Therfore they were swythe wo
Another shyppe they encountred tho
Suche ne sawe they neuer none
For it was so gay begone
Euery nayle with golde I graue
Of pure golde was his sklaue
Her mast was of Iuory
Of samyte her sayle wytly
Her ropes all of whyte sylke
As whyte as euer was ony mylke
The noble shyppe was without
With clothes of golde spred about
And her lofte and her wyndlace
All with golde depaynted was
In the shyppe there were dyght
Knyghtes and lordes of myght
And a lady therin was
Bryght as sonne throwe the glas
Her men abrode gan stonde
And becked them with her honde
And prayed them for to dwell
And theyr auentures to tell
They graunted all with skyll
For to tell all her wyll
To dyuerse londes do we wende
For kynge Harry hath vs sende
For to seche hym a quene
The fayrest that myght on erth bene
Vp arose a kynge of a chayre
With that worde and spake fayre
The chayre was of carbunkel stone
Suche sawe they neuer none
And other dukes hym besyde
Noble men of moche pryde
And welcomed the messengers euerychone
In to the shyppe they gan gone
Thyrty knyghtes without lye
Forsothe was in that company
In that ryche shyppe they wente
The messengers that were sente
Knyghtes and ladyes came them agayne
Seuen score as men sayne
And welcomed them at one worde
Clothes of sylke were spred on borde
The kynge than anone badde
As it is in ryme radde
That his doughter were forth fet
And in a chayre by hym set
Trumpettes began to blowe
She was set in a throwe
With .xx. knyghtes her aboute
And double so many of ladyes stoute
All they began to knele her to
For it was reason so to do
They ete and dranke & were glad
For so the ryche kynge bad
Whan they had done theyr mete
Of auentures they began to speke
The kynge them tolde in his reason
How it came hym in a vysyon
In his londe that he came fro
In to Englonde for to go
And his doughter that was hym dere
For to wende with hym in fere
And in this maner we be dyght
Vnto your londe to wende ryght
Than answered a messengere
His name was cleped Barnagere
Ferther wyll we seke nought
To my lorde she shall be brought
Whan he her with eyen doth se
Full well apayed wyll he be
The wynde rose out of the north west
And serued them with the best
At the toure they gan aryue
To londe the knyghtes wente blyue
The messengers the kynge hath tolde
Of that lady fayre and bolde
There he laye in toure
The lady that was whyte as floure
Kynge Harry gan hym soone dyght
With erles barons and many a knyght
Ayenst that lady for to wende
For he was courteys and hende
The damoysell to londe was ladde
Clothes of golde before her spradde
The messengers on eche a syde
And mynstrelles of moche pryde
Kynge Harry lyked her seynge
That fayre lady and her fader the kynge
And sayd to hym ryght so
Ye be welcome all me to
To westmynster they wente in fere
Lordes ladyes that there were
Trumpettes began for to blowe
To mete they wente in a throwe
Knyghtes there serued a good spede
Of theyr mete to tell it is no nede
And after mete in hyenge
Speketh Harry our kynge
To the kynge that sate in same
Good syr what is your name
My name he sayd is Carbarrynge
Of antyoche I am the kynge
He tolde hym his reason
How hym came in vysyon
Syr he sayd I tell the
I had brought elles more meyne
Many mo without fayle
And mo shyppes with vytayle
Yet asked he that lady bryght
What name my lady ye hyght
Cosodorean without lesynge
Thus answered she the kynge
Damoysell he sayd bryght and shene
Wyll ye dwell and be my quene
She answered with wordes styll
Syr I am at my faders wyll
Her fader graunted swythe sone
At your wyll it shall be done
Hastely that she be wedde
As a quene to a kynges bedde
And prayd hym for his courtesy
It myght be done all pryuely
The spousynge was done that nyght
Therat daunsed many a knyght
Moche Ioye was then amonge
A preest full soone the masse songe
And whan it came to the leuacyowne
In a swounynge she fell downe
The people than her sore a dradde
In to a chambre she was ladde
She sayd for I am thus hent
I dare neuer se the sacrament
Vpon the more her fader toke leue
No lenger wolde he there be leue
The kynge dwelled with his quene
Chyldren they had them bytwene
Two sones and a mayd
Forsothe as the boke vs sayd
Rycharde hyght the fyrst Iwys
Wherfore these romayns made is
And Iohan forsothe that other was
And theyr syster hyght Copyas
Thus they dwelled in fere
Tyll the .xv. yere
Vpon a daye before the rode
The kynge at his masse stode
There came an erle of grete poste
Syr he sayd how may this be
That my lady the quene
The sacrament dare not sene
Gyue vs leue to do her dwell
Fro the begynnynge of the gospell
Tyll the masse be songe and sayd
And than shall ye se a queynt brayd
The kynge graunted with good wyll
For to holde her with strength styll
Neyther for wele ne for woo
Let her not out of the chyrche goo
And whan the bell began to rynge
The preest sholde make the sakerynge
Out of the chyrche she wolde awaye
But the erle sayd soone naye
He sayd lady thou shalte abyde
For ony thynge that may betyde
She toke her doughter vpon her honde
And Iohan her sone she wolde not wonde
Out of the rofe she gan her dyght
Openly before all theyr syght
Iohan fell frome her in that stonde
And brake his thygh on the grounde
And with her doughter she fled her waye
That neuer after she was I sey
The kynge wondred of that thynge
That she made suche an endynge
For loue that she was serued so
Wolde he neuer after come there ne go
He let ordeyne after his endynge
H [...]s sone Rycharde to be kynge
Crowned after kynge Harry
Thus was Rycharde sykerly
That was in his .xv. yere
He was a man of grete powere
Dedes of armes he gaue hym to
As falleth for kynges and knyghtes to do
He waxed so stronge and so wyght
Ayenst hym had no man no myght
In euery stede he toke honoure
As a noble kynge and conqueroure
¶ How kynge Rycharde made a Iustynge.
THe fyrst yere that he was kynge
At Salysbury he made a Iustynge
And commaūded euery man to be there
Bothe with shelde and with spere
Erles and barons euerychone
At home ne dwelled neuer one
On forfeyture on lyfe and londe
For nothynge that they ne wonde
This was cryed I vnderstonde
Thorughout all Englonde
All was for to loke and se
The knyghtes that best myght be
There they came all at his wyll
His commaundement to fulfyll
The partyes were sonder set
Togyder they ran without let
Kynge Rycharde gan hym dysguyse
In a full stronge queyntyse
He came out of a valaye
For to se of theyr playe
As a knyght auenturous
His atyre was orgulous
All togyder cole blacke
Was his horse without lacke
Vpon his creste a rauen stode
That yaned as he were wode
And aboute his necke a bell
Wherfore the reason I shall you tell
The oynge of the rauen is
In trauayll for to be Iwys
Sygnyfyaunce of the bell
With holy chyrche to dwell
And them to noy and to greue
That be not in the ryght byleue
He bare a shalte that was grete and stronge
It was fourtene fote longe
And it was grete and stoute
One and twenty inches aboute
The fyrst knyght that he there mette
Full egerly he hym grette
With a dente amyd the shelde
His horse he bare downe in the felde
And the knyght fell to grounde
Full nye deed in that stounde
The nexte that he mette thare
A grete stroke he hym bare
His forgette with his cornell tho
His necke he brake there a two
His horse and he fell to grounde
And dyed bothe in that stounde
Kynge Rycharde gan houe & abyde
Yf ony mo wolde to hym ryde
Trumpettes began for to blowe
Knyghtes Iusted in that rowe
Another knyght hardy and good
Sate on a stede rede as blode
He dyde hym arme and well dyght
In all that longed to suche a knyght
A shafte he toke grete and louge
That was so heuy and stronge
And sayd he wolde to hym ryde
Yf he durste hym abyde
Trumpettes began to blowe than
Therby wyste many a man
That they sholde Iuste mere
The noble knyghtes that there were
Kynge Rycharde of hym was ware
And aspere to hym he bare
And encountred hym in the felde
He bare awaye halfe his shelde
His pusen therwith gan gone
And also his brandellet bone
His vyser and his gorgere
Hym repented that be came there
Kynge Rycharde houed and behelde
And thought to rest hym in the felde
Yf there were other knyght or swayne
That wolde more ryde hym agayne
He sawe there wolde come none
On his waye he gan forth gone
Into a wode out or theyr lyght
And in another tyre he hym dyght
Vpon a stede rede as blode
With all the tyre that on hym stode
Horse and shelde armure and man
That no man sholde knowe hym than
Vpon his creste a rede hounde
The tayle henge to the grounde
That was sygnyfycacyon
The hethen folke to brynge downe
Them to slee for goddes loue
And crysten men to brynge aboue
Styll he houed and bode yore
To them he thought to ryde more
He rode the thronge all aboute
He helde within and withoute
A baron he sawe hym besyde
Towarde hym he gan ryde
To asquyer he toke his spere
To hym he wolde it not bere
Forth he toke a mansell
A stroke he thought to be set well
On his helme that was so stronge
Of that dente the fyre out spronge
The baron tourned hym asyde
And sayd felowe forth thou ryde
With thy speres go and playe
Come no more here I the praye
And syketly yf thou do
Thou shalte haue a knocke or two
Kynge Rycharde wondred in his thought
That he set his stroke at nought
And came agayne by another waye
And thought to make a better paye
In his styrope vp he stode
And smote to hym with Ire full mode
He set his stroke on his yron hat
But that other in his sadell sat
Hastely without wordes mo
His mase he toke in his honde tho
That was made of yotyn bras
He wondred who that it was
Suche a stroke he hym lente
That Rycharde feet out of his steropes wente
For plate ne for acketton
For hawberke ne for campeson
Suche a stroke he neuer had none ore
That dyde hym halfe so moche sore
Full swythe awaye he gan ryde
Out of the prees there besyde
To hym selfe he sayd tho
Of suche strokes kepe I no mo
He wente adowne to a well
And with his helme dranke his fell
And he watred his stede also
In the thyrde atyre he let hym do
All his atyre whyte as mylke
His croper was of sylke
Vpon his shulder a crosse rede
That betokeneth goddes dede
With his enemyes for to fyght
To wynne the crosse yf that he myght
Vpon his heed a doue whyte
Sygnyfycacyon of the holy spyryte
To be bolde to wynne the pryse
And dystroye goddes enemyes
To the kynge Rycharde gan hym dyght
Than another noble knyght
Fouke doly was his name
The kynge hym loued for his fame
To hym a stroke he dyght
Well to paye with all his myght
He smote hym on his bassenet
A grete dente without let
It swouned to his cheke bone
Syr Fouke bad hym forth gone
That he no lenger abyde
In auenture yf ony stroke betyde
The kynge sawe he felte no sore
And thought to gyue hym more
And another stroke he hym brayde
His mase vpon his heed he layde
With good wyll that stroke he set
The baron thought he wolde hym let
And with his heuy mase of stele
There he gaue the kynge his dele
That his helme all to roue
And he ouer his sadell droue
And his steropes he forbare
Suche a stroke had he neuer are
He was so astonyed of that dente
That nye he had his lyfe lente
And for that stroke that hym was gyuen
He ne wyst whether it was daye or euen
Tho he recouered of his swowe
To his palays he hym drowe
Than he commaunded hastely
Herodes for to make crye
And euery man for to wende
Home to his owne frende
The kynge anone a messengere
Full preuely he sente there
To syr Thomas of multon
That was a noble baron
And to syr Fouke dely
That they come to hym on hye
Let them not dwell in no manere
Bydde them come bothe in fere
The messengers therwith wente
And sayd the kynge after them sente
Swythe for to come hym to
Without delaye that it be do
The knyghtes hyed and were blythe
To the kynge they wente swythe
And hendly they hym grette
And he them toke and by hym sette
And sayd to them wordes free
Welcome be ye now to me
In eyther honde he toke one
And in to a chambre they gone
Quod Rycharde swete frendes twaye
Tell me the sothe I you praye
What knyghtes that rode best cours
Of this Iustes paramours
And whiche coude best his crafte
For to demene well his shafte
With dentes for to fell his foos
Whiche of them wan the loos
And who styffest tymbre brake
Quod Thomas one in a tyre blake
Came pryckynge ouer falowe and felde
All that there was hym behelde
How he rode as he were wode
A rome he houed and withstode
On his creste a rauen swarte
And he ne helde with neyther parte
A shafte he bare styfe and stronge
Fourtene fote it was longe
It was bothe styffe and stoute
Anone he asked all the route
Yf ony durst come and proue
A cours for his lemmans loue
With a knyght of auenturous here
A yonge knyght a Ioly bachelere
Hente a shafte and stede bestrode
To the auenturous knyght he rode
The auenturous with hym met
Suche a stroke on his shelde he set
That horse and man ouerthrewe
There was no wyght that hym knewe
Trompettes yede herodes gaderynge
All the other knyghtes of hym had dredynge
To Iuste with hym efte with launce
The auenturous betyde so fayre chaunce
And hardy knyght stoute and sauage
Hente a shafte with stronge rage
Now hath he one of oures felde
Worth we neuer for men telde
Syth he hath done vs that dyspyte
Yf he agayne passe quyte
That fyrste he haue no knocke
He prycked forth fro all the flocke
With a shafte stoute and square
Amydde the cours than met they thare
The auenturous smote his shelde amydde
A wonders case our knyght betydde
The auenturous felde hym with Ire
Downe of his stede and brake his swyre
The thre knyghtes to speke began
This is the deuyll and no man
That our folke felleth and sleeth
Tyde me lyfe tyde me deeth
I shall mete hym yf I may
The auenturous knyght with grete deray
So harde to our knyght he droue
His shelde in two peces he cloue
His shulder with his shafte he bracke
And bare hym ouer his horse backe
That he fell downe and brake his arme
He dyde hym no more harme
The auenturous tho tourned ayene
And houed styll for to sene
Who wolde Iuste with hym more
Of hym they were adradde full sore
No man durste Iuste with hym efte
Leste he them theyr lyfe berefte
Whan he sawe there came no mo
He rode agayne there he came fro
After the blacke another came
All the folke gaue hym good name
His horse and his atyre was rede
He semed well to be a quede
A rede hounde on his helme aboue
He came to seche and to proue
Yf ony knyght Iuste with hym dare
Of no man tho was he ware
That hym made chalenge
He rode downe tho by the renge
The deuyll hym hange where euer he be
I wote not what hym ayled at me
His shafte tho his squyre he toke
And behelde me with a grym loke
And smote me so with his mase
Ne had be Ihesu crystes grace
My swyre had gone awaye
I bad hym ryde forth his waye
And dele with foles as his selfe was
Agayne he came by another pas
And gaue me a worse buffate
But styll in my sadell I sate
Than sayd many a moders sone
Alas syr Thomas of multone
That is smyten without skyll
My mase I hente with good wyll
And smote hym that all folkes saye
Downe of his horse withouten naye
Whan I had hym a stroke set
And wolde haue blyssed hym bet
No mo strokes wolde he abyde
But awaye soone he gan ryde
Whan multon had his tale tolde
Syr Fouke doly a baron bolde
Sayd to kynge Rycharde
The thyrde there came soone afterwarde
His atyre was whyte as snowe
Therof many one there lowe
In his shelde a crosse rede as blode
A whyte doue on his helme stode
He houed styll and behelde vs yerne
yf there were ony knyght so sterne
So hardy a man and stronge of bones
That durst Iuste with hym ones
There was none so stoute ne grym
That durst Iuste ones with hym
Downe by the renge he wente faste
To me he came at the laste
Forsothe syr kynge quod Fouke than
I wende he had ben a symple man
With his mase on my bassenet
A stroke vpon my helme he set
With wrathe stronge and eger mayne
That nygh all astonyed was my brayne
I spake to hym wordes fewe
And badde hym ryde worth wood shrewe
And playe with them that be thy pere
yf thou come ofte in this manere
For to be wyse I shall the teche
Efte he came agayne to seche
A worse stroke he gaue me tho
And my mase I drewe me to
And a stroke I hym set
Euen vpon his bassenet
That bothe his styropes he lese
And he hyed hym faste out of the prese
Home towarde the wodde bowe
Kynge Rycharde sate and faste lowe
And sayd frendes sykerly
Take it not in grefe for it was I
Whan ye were gadred in fere
Auenturous I came in this manere
Who was strongest you to assaye
And who that coude best strokes paye
Lordes he sayd wote ye ought
What I haue ordeyned in thought
The holy londe to wende to
We thre without ony mo
All in palmers guyse
The holy londe to deuyse
Come I wolde that ye were sworne
No man to knowe it that is borne
Neyther for wele ne for woo
Tyll that we be come and goo
They graunted hym his askynge
Without ony withsayenge
With hym to lyue and to dye
Lettynge for loue ne for enuye
On the boke they layde theyr honde
To that forwarde for to stonde
Tho they asked all thre
Trewe sworne for to be
Trompettes blewe and made crye
To mete they wente hastely
And on the .xii. daye at ende
They were redy for to wende
With pycke and with slauayne
As palmers or panayme
¶ How kynge Rycharde toke shyppynge.
NOw they dyght them full yare
These thre knyghtes for to fare
They set vp sayle ye wynde was good
And sayled ouer the salte flood
In to flaunders as I you saye
Kynge Rycharde and his feres twaye
Forth they wente with gladde chere
Thorugh many londes farre and nere
Tyll they came to blaundys
That is a coste of moche pryse
A noble shyppe they founde thare
Ouer the see for to fare
The sayle was reysed in the shyppe stronge
And in the see they were longe
There they dwelled forty dayes
For to lerne the londes layes
Syth they dyde them to the see
Towarde Acrys that ryche cyte
And so forth to masydoyne
And to the cyte of Babyloyne
And so forth to sysare
Of nynyue they were ware
And also of Iherusalem
And to the cyte of bedleem
And to the cyte of gandon turry
And also to obedy
And to the castell of orgulous
And to the cyte of apparylous
To Iaffe and to saffrayne
To bryght and to betayne
Thus they vysyted the holy londe
How they myght it wynne to theyr honde
And syth homewarde they them dyght
To englonde with all theyr myght
Whan they had passed the grekes see
In almayne the palmers thre
There they wrought or they thens myght goo
That tourned them to moche woo
I shall you tell in what manere
Now harken all that ben here
Agoos they dyght to theyr dynere
In a tauerne there they were
Kynge Rycharde the fyre fet
And Thomas to the spytte hym set
Fouke doly made the bose
Full dere bought they the gose
And as they were etynge theyr fyll
An one there came in a mynstryll
And sayd good men sykerly
Wyll ye haue ony mynstrelsy
Kynge Rycharde bad hym thens go
That tourned them to moche wo
The mynstrell toke that in mynde
And thought that they were vnkynde
And yf I may they shall forthynke
For they bad me neyther ete ne drynke
For gentylles sholde bydden
To glee men that aboute yeden
Of theyr mete wyne or ale
For lose ryseth of mynstrale
They were englysshe well he knewe
By speche and syght hyde and hewe
For he wente in that tyde
To a castell there besyde
And tolde the kynge all and some
That thre men were to the cyte come
Stronge men bolde and fere
In the worlde is not theyr pere
Kynke Rycharde of englonde was the one man
Fouke doly was that other than
The thyrde Thomas of Multon
Noble knyghtes of renowne
In palmers wede they be dyght
That no man sholde knowe them ryght
To hym sayd the kynge Iwys
That thou haste yf it sothe is
Thou shalte haue thy warysowne
And chose thy selfe a ryche towne
The kynge cōmaūded his knyghtes
To arme them in all myghtes
And go and take them all thre
And swythe brynge them to me
Forth wente the knyghtes in fere
And toke the palmers at theyr dynere
They were brought before the kynge
And he asked them in hyenge
Palmers he sayd whens be ye
Of Englonde they sayd we be
What hyght thou falowe sayd the kynge
Rycharde he sayd without lesynge
What hyght thou he sayd to the elder man
Fouke doly he answered than
And what thou he sayd gray here
Thomas of multon he sayd there
The kynge asked them all thre
What they dyde in his countre
I saye you without lyes
Ye seme well to be spyes
Ye haue sene my londe vp and downe
I trowe ye thynke me some treasowne
For as moche as thou syr kynge
And thy barons without lesynge
Seme not to be thus dyght
Therfore ye shall with law & ryght
Ben not in a stronge pryson
For ye thynke to do me treason
Kynge Rycharde sayd so mote I the
Thou dooth vnryght thynketh me
Palmers that gone by the waye
Them to pryson nyght or daye
Syr kynge for thy courtesy
Do vs palmers no vylony
For his loue that we haue songht
Let vs go and greue vs nought
For auentures that may betyde
In straunge londes where thou ryde
The kynge commaunded anone
In to pryson them to done
The porter I vnderstonde
Toke Rycharde by the honde
And his felawes with hym tyte
Lenger had they no respyte
Tyll that other daye at pryme
The kynges sone came in euyll tyme
Wardrewe was his name
He was a knyght of grete fame
He was grete stronge and fere
In that londe was not his pere
Porter he sayd I praye the
Thy prysoners lette me see
The porter sayd all at your wyll
Erly or late loude or styll
He brought them forth all thre
Rycharde formest tho came he
Wardrewe spake to hym than
Arte thou Rycharde the stronge man
As men saye in eche londe
Darste thou stonde a buffet of my honde
And to morowe I gyue the leue
Suche another me to gyue
Anone kynge Rycharde
Graunted to that forwarde
The kynges sone fyers and proute
Gaue Rycharde an eere cloute
The fyre out of his eyen spronge
Rycharde thought he dyde hym wronge
And sware his othe by saynt Martyn
To morowe I shall paye myn
The kynges sone with good wyll
Badde they sholde haue theyr fyll
Bothe of drynke and eke of mete
The best that they wolde ete
That they myght not a wyte
For feblenes his dente to smyte
And in to bedde be brought to reste
To quyte his that he be preste
The kynges sone was curtese
That nyght he made hym well at ease
On the morowe whan it was daye
Rycharde rose as I you saye
Waxe he toke clere and bryght
And sone a fyre he hym dyght
And wexed his hondes by the fyre
Ouerthwarde and endlonge be you sure
A strawes brede thycke and more
For he thought to smyte sore
With his honde he hath tyght
To make a payne that he hath hyght
The kynges sone came in than
To holde forwarde as a trewe man
And before Rycharde he stode
And spake to hym with Ire full mode
Smyte he sayd with thy myght
Thou hast I fared well this nyght
And yf I stope or felde
Kepe me neuer to bere shelde
Vnder his cheke Recharde his honde layde
He that it sawe the sothe sayd
Flesshe and skynne awaye he tare
That he fell downe in grete care
He all to brake his cheke bone
That he was deed as ony stone
A knyght sterte to the kynge
And tolde hym that tydynge
Thar Rycharde had his sone sloo
Alas he sayd how shall I doo
With that worde he fell to grounde
As a man that was in wo bounde
He foundred and lost his fete
Knyghtes toke hym vp without let [...]
And sayd syr let be thy thought
Now it is it done helpeth nought
The kynge spake wordes on hye
To the knyghtes that stode hym bye
Tell me swythe of this cas
In what maner that it done was
Styll they stode euerychone
For sorowe myght they tell none
With that noyse came the quene
Alas she sayd how may this bene
Why is this sorowe and this fare
Who hath brought you in care
Dame he sayd wotest thou nought
Thy fayre sone to deth is brougth
Syth I was borne to man
Suche sorowe had neuer woman
All my Ioye is tourned to woo
For sorowe I wolde my selfe sloo
Whan the quene vnderstode
For grete care she waxed ny wode
Her kerchers she drewe and heer also
Alas she sayd what shall I do
She cratched her selfe in the vysage
As a woman that was in a rage
She fomed all on blode
And rente her robe that she in stode
And sayd alas that I was borne
That thus my sone haue forlorne
Lorde she sayd how may this be
These knyghtes he sayd tolde it me
Now tell the sothe the kynge sayd than
In what maner saye ye this dede began
And but ye the sothe sey
An euyll deth shall ye dey
The knyghtes called the Iaylere
And badde he sholde stonde nere
To bere wytnes of that sawe
In what maner he was slawe
The Iayler sayd yesterdaye at pryme
Your sone came in an euyll tyme
To the pryson dore to me
And the palmers he wolde se
And I fet them forth anone
Rycharde formest gan gone
Wardrewe asked without let
If he wolde stonde hym a buffet
And he hym wolde another stonde
As he was trewe knyght in londe
Rycharde sayd by this lyght
Smyte on with all thy myght
Rycharde had suche a stroke of Wardrewe
That full nygh he hym ouerthrewe
Rycharde he sayd now bydde I the
To morowe another thou gyue me
They departed in this wyse
On the morowe Rycharde began to ryse
And your sone anone came
And Rycharde ayenst hym name
As couenaunt was bytwene them twayne
Rycharde smote the sothe to sayne
Euen all a two his cheke bone
That he fell deed as ony stone
And as I am sworne to you here
Thus it was in this manere
The kynge sayd with eger wyll
In pryson they shall be styll
And fetters vpon theyr fete feste
For this dede done vnwreste
And for he hath my sone slawe
He shall dye by ryght lawe
The Iaylere yede as he was sent
To do the kynges cōmaundement
That daye ete they no mete
Nor no drynke myght they gete
The kynges doughter laye in her boure
With ladyes and maydens of honoure
Margery her name hyght
She loked Rycharde with all her myght
At the mydde daye before the none
To the pryson she wente soone
With her wente maydens thre
Porter she sayd let me se
The prysoners hastely
Blythly he sayd sykerly
He brought them forth anone ryght
Fayre they grette that lady bryght
And sayd to her with herte fre
With vs lady what wyll ye
Whan she sawe Rycharde with her eyen two
Her loue she caste vpon hym tho
She sayd Rycharde saue god aboue
Of all thynge moost I the loue
Alas quod Rycharde in that stounde
With wronge I am brought to grounde
I poore prysoner as ye may se
What may my loue do to the
This is the thyrde daye agone
That mete nor drynke had I none
The lady had of hym pyte
Certes it shall amended be
She commaunded the Iaylere
Mete and drynke to fetche them there
And the Irons frome them take
I praye the for my sake
¶ Of the loue bytwene ye kynges doughter and kynge Rycharde / and after how that kynge Rycharde slewe a lyon / and how he ete the herte of the lyon all rawe / wherfore he hadde the name / stronge kynge Rycharde cure de lyon
ANd after souper in the euenynge
To my chambre thou Rycharde brynge
In the tyre of a squyere
My selfe I shall kepe hym there
By Ihesu cryst and by saynt Symon
Thou shalte haue thy waryson
The Iayler forgate it nought
To her chambre he hym brought
With that mayde he dwelled styll
And played with her his wyll
Tyll the seuenth daye sykerly
He yede and came pryuely
He was aspyed of a knyght
That to the chambre he came ryght
Pryuely he tolde the kynge
That forlayne was his doughter yinge
The kynge asked hym soone
Who hath he sayd that dede done
Rycharde he sayd that traytour
He hath done you the dyshonour
Syr he sayd by my crystendome
I sawe whan he wente and come
The kynge in herte syghed sore
To hym spake he tho no more
But swythe without fayle
Sente after his counsayle
Erles and barons and wyse clerkes
For to counseyll hym of his werkes
The messengers gan forth gone
His counseyliours came anone
By that it was the .xiiii. daye
They were come as I you saye
All at ones they grette the kynge
Sothe to saye without lesynge
He sayd lordes welcome be ye all
He wente forth in to the hall
Amonge them the kynge hym set
I shall you tell without let
Why I haue after you sente
To gyue a traytour Iugement
That hath done grete treason
Kynge Rycharde that is in my pryson
All he them tolde in his sawe
How he had his sone I slawe
And he were deed than were I fayne
For he shall neuer home agayne
And now it is ordeyned so
Men shall no kynge to deth do
To hym spake a bolde baron
How came kynge Rycharde in your pryson
He is holden so noble a kynge
To hym dare no man do thynge
The kynge tolde hym in all wyse
How he hym founde and in what guyse
And with hym other two barons
Noble men of grete renouns
I toke them through suspeccyon
In this maner to my pryson
He toke leue of them euerychone
In to a chambre he bad them gone
For to take theyr counsayle
That them myght best auayle
In theyr speche they dwelled thore
Two dayes and somdele more
And stroue as they were wode
With grete errour & with grete mode
Some wolde hym hange and drawe
And some sayd it was no lawe
On this maner to slee a kynge
They ne myght accorde for no thynge
The wysest sayd verament
We wyll gyue hym no Iugement
Thus answered they the kynge
Syr greue you no thynge
For syr Eldrede forsothe Iwys
He can you tell what best is
For he is a wyse man of rede
That many a man hath dampned to dede
The kynge badde without lette
That he were before hym fette
He was brought before the kynge
The whiche hym axed at his comynge
Canst thou me tell in what manere
On Rycharde that I auenged were
He answered I tell the
Theron I must auyse me
Ye wote well it is no lawe
A kynge to hange ne to drawe
Therfore do by my reason
Hastely take your lyon
And with holde hym his mete
Thre dayes that he none ete
And Rycharde in a chambre do
And put the lyon than hym to
In this maner he shall be slawe
Than doost thou not ayenst the lawe
The lyon there shall hym sloo
Than arte thou awreked of thy foo
The mayde aspyed of that reasone
And than bethought her soone
And after hym soone she sent
To warne hym of that Iugement
Whan he to her chambre came than
Welcome she sayd my lemman
My lorde hath ordeyned thorugh rede
The thyrde daye thou shalte be dede
In to a chambre thou shalte be do
And a lyon shall be put the to
That shall haue honger sore
Than wote I well thou lyuest no more
But swete lemman sayd she thare
Let vs out of this londe fare
With golde and syluer & moche mony
I nought to spende than haue I
Rycharde sayd I vnderstonde
That were ayenst the lawe of londe
Awaye to wende without leue
The kynge I wyll not so greue
Of the lyon gyue I nought
Hym to slee haue I thought
By pryme vpon the thyrde daye
I wyll haue his herte to praye
Kerchers he asked of sylke
Fourty elles as whyte as mylke
In to the pryson ye them brynge
A lytell before the euenynge
Whan it to the tyme came
The mayde to pryson the way name
And with her a noble knyght
Theyr souper was redy dyght
Rycharde and his tway fere
Had y nought to theyr soupere
And the porter also
She bad he sholde so do
That nyght they were glad ynowe
Euery man syth to chambre drowe
And Rycharde and that swete wyght
Togyder dwelled all that nyght
And on the morowe whan it was daye
Rycharde badde her to wende awaye
Naye she sayd by god aboue
I shall here dye for thy loue
Ryght now here I wyll abyde
Though I sholde to deth betyde
Certes hens wyll I not wende
I shall take the grace that god wyll sende
Rycharde sayd fayre lady free
But thou wende soone frome mee
Thou shalte me greue sore
That I shall loue the no more
There ayenst she sayd naye
Lemman haue now good daye
God that dyed on the tre
Saue the yf his wyll be
The keuerthefes he toke on honde
And aboute his arme he wonde
And thought in that ylke whyle
To slee the lyon with some gyle
And syngle in a kyrtell he stode
And abode the lyon fyers and wode
With that came the Iaylere
And other men that with hym were
And the lyon them amonge
His pawes were styffe and stronge
The chambre dore they vndone
And the lyon to hym is gone
Rycharde sayd helpe lorde Ihesu
The lyon made to hym venu
And wolde hym haue all to rente
Kynge Rycharde besyde hym glente
The lyon on the breste hym spurned
That aboute he tourned
The lyon was hongry and megre
And bette his tayle to be egre
He loked aboute as he were madde
Abrode he all his pawes spradde
He cryed lowde and yaned wyde
Kynge Rycharde bethought hym that tyde
What hym was best and to hym sterte
In at the throte his honde he gerte.
And hente out the herte with his honde
Lounge and all that he there fonde
The lyon fell deed to the grounde
Rycharde felte no wem ne wounde
He fell on his knees in that place
And thanked Ihesu of his grace
That hym kepte frome shame and harme
He toke the herte also warme
And brought it forth in the hall
Before the kynge and his lordes all
The kynge at mete sate at the dese
The erles barons proude in prese
The salte on the table stode
Kynge Rycharde thryste out all the blode
And wette the herte in the salte
The kynge and his men hym behalte
Without brede he it gan ete
The kynge wondred and began to speke
Iwys as I vnderstonde can
This his the deuyll and no man
He hath my stronge lyon slawe
The herte out of the body drawe
And hath it eten with good wyll
He may be called with good skyll
Crysten kynge moost of renowne
Stronge Rycharde cure delyowne
¶ How kynge Rycharde sente for his raunsome
NNow of this lette we be
And of the kynge speke we
In care & mournynge ledeth his lyfe
And ofte calleth hymselfe caytyfe
And cursed the tyme yt he was borne
For his sone hath he forlorne
And his doughter is forlayne
And this his lyon is thus slayne
Erles and barons came hym to
And the quene dyde also
And asked what he was
ye wote he sayd all the cas
Why that I am in sorowe this houre
Hor Rycharde that stronge traytoure
He hath wrought me so moche woo
And I ne may hym to deth doo
Therfore I wyll at this sake
Raunsom for his body take
For my doughter that is I shente
Ayenst the estate of sacramente
Of euery chyrche that prestes in synge
And matyns synge and belles rynge
There that two chalys be
That one shall be brought to me
Yf there be more than two
The halfe dele shall come me to
Whan I am serued of that fe
Than shall Rycharde delyuered be
And my doughter for her outrage
Shall for goo her herytage
Thus he sayd it shall be do
The barons graunted all therto
Kynge Rycharde they after sente
For to here theyr ordaynemente
Whan he came in to the hall
He grete the kynge and his men all
The kynge sayd verament
We haue loked your Iugement
That thou shalte paye raunsones
For the and for thy barones
Of euery chyrche in thy londe
Thou shalte do come to my honde
There that two chalys in be
That one shall be brought to me
And yf there be more than two
The halfe dele shall be brought me to
Thorugh thy londe wyte it wele
I wyll haue the halfe dele
And whan thou haste made thy paye
I gyue the leue to wende thy waye
And my doughter with the also
That agayne I se her neuer mo
Kynge Rycharde sayd as thou hast tolde
To that forwarde I me holde
Kynge Rycharde curteys and hende
Sayd who shall for my raunsom wende
To Englonde to my chauncelere
That my raunsom payed were
Who that it dooth without fayle
I shall hym quyte for his trauayle
Vp there sterte an hende knyght
Thy message I wyll do full ryght
The kynge dyde a letter wryte
A good clerke dyde it endyte
And made there in mencyon
Lesse and more of that raunson
Grete well as I you saye
Myne archebysshoppes twaye
And so ye do my chauncelere
To serue this letter in all manere
For no thynge that they ne fayle
Sykerly it shall them auayle
His seale theron he hath set
The knyght it toke without let
He dyght hym and made hym yare
In to Englonde for to fare
Whan he was ouer the se brought
To go his way forgate he nought
To London he yede anone
There he founde them euerychone
He toke the letter as I you saye
To the archebysshoppes twaye
And bad them to do it rede
For it is sente for grete nede
The chaunceler the seale brake
Soone they wyste what it spake
The letter was rede amonge them all
What therof sholde befall
How kynge Rycharde with treason
In almayne dwelled for raunson
The kynges sone he hath slayne
And his douhhter eke forlayne
And also slayne his lyone
All these armes hath he done
They made clerkes for to wende
To euery chyrche fayre and hende
Hastely that it were spedde
And the treasour to hym ledde
Messenger now sayd he
Thou shalte dwell and haue with the
Fyue bysshoppes to ryde the by
And fyue barons sykerly
And other folke ynough with the
In vs no defaute shall be
Of euery chyrche lesse and more
They gadered that treasore
And ouer the see they wente
For to make that fayre presente
And whan they came the cyte to
The kynge there they founde tho
And sayd as they were bethought
Syr thy raunsom is hyther brought
Take it all at your wyll
Let go these men as it is skyll
The kynge sayd I gyue them leue
I shall them no more greue
And toke his doughter by the honde
And bad her swythe voyde the londe
The quene sawe what wolde fall
Her doughter to her she gan call
And sayd thou shalte dwell with me
Tyll Rycharde sende after the
As a kynge dooth after his quene
Thus I rede that it bene
Kynge Rycharde and his feres twaye
To Englonde toke theyr waye
Now they be come to Englonde
Blessyd be Ihesu crystes sonde
He wente to London to that cyte
His erles and his barons fre
Thanked god of his good grace
That theyr kynge was in that place
His two feres wente ryght soone home
Theyr frendes were glad that they come
They bathed theyr bodyes that were sore
For trauayll that they had had before
Thus they dwelled halfe a yere
Amonge theyr frendes of grete powere
Tyll they were able for to stonde
The kynge commaunded thorugh the londe
At London to make a parlyament
Of his comyns and lordes gent
As they wolde saue theyr lyfe
Or theyr chyldren or theyr wyfe
To London to his sommon
Came bysshoppes erles & many a baron
Abbottes pryours knyghtes & squyers
Burgeyses and many bachelers
All the best of his londe
The kynges heste to vnderstonde
Before that tyme the grete countre
That was before the grekes see
Acrys and surrey and many londes
Were in crysten mennes hondes
And the countre of Bedleem
And also Iherusalem
And Nazareth and Ieryco
And all Galyce therto
Euery palmer and pylgryme
That wolde theder go that tyme
Myght passe with good entente
Without raunsom or ony rente
Other of syluer or of golde
To euery stede where they wolde
Founde he no man to myssayne
Neyther no hondes on hym layne
Of surrey londe the duke myllon
Was lorde in that stounde a bolde baron
Maugre the sowdan the londe he helde
And kepte it well with spere and shelde
He and the doughty erle Reynawte
Full ofte gaue hym harde assawte
And full ofte in batayll
Slewe his knyghtes and pewtayll
Of sarasynes that mysbyleued
The sowdan therof was agreued
Now harken of a treason stronge
Of the erle Roys was them amonge
To whome the duke myllon trust mekle
And he was a traytour false and fekle
The sowdan styll to hym sente
And he asked hym londes and rente
The crysten hoost to betraye
Who he hath wonne hym to paye
Of golde many a thousande pounde
And he graunted hym that stounde
Another traytour Markes feraunt
He wyste also of that couenaunt
And after his crystendome forsoke
And to the deuyll hym betoke
And thorugh treason of the erle Roys
Surrey was lorne and the holy croys
The dukes rewarde was hewe smale
All to peces sayth our tale
The duke myllon was full lyfe
He fledde out of the londe with his wyfe
He was erle of surrey londe
Kynge bawdewyns sone I vnderstonde
That no man wyste neuer sythe
Where he became ne in what kythe
So this losse and this pyte
Spronge in to all crystente
An holy pope that hyght Vrban
Sente to all crystendome than
And assoyled them of theyr synne
And gaue them paradyse to wynne
All that wyll theder gone
To wreke Ihesu of his fone
The kynge of fraunce without fayle
Theder wente with moche vytayle
The duke of bloys the duke of burgon
The duke of estryche the duke of fusson
And also the Emperour of almayne
And many good knyghtes of brytayne
The erle of flaunders the erle of babelyne
The erle of arteys the erle of Colyne
Moche folke wente theder before
That nygh had theyr lyues lore
With grete warre and honger harde
As ye may here afterwarde
In haruest after the natyuyte
Kynge Rycharde with grete solempnyte
At westmynster he helde a noble feste
With bysshoppes and barons honeste
Abbottes pryours and swynes stronge
After mete yede them amonge
Kynge Rycharde stode vp and gan sayne
My selfe frendes wyll you sayne
Be in pease and harken vnto my tale
Erles barons grete and smale
Bysshops abbotte lewde and lerned
All crystendome may be afered
The pope Vrban hath vs sente
By bull and by cōmaundement
How the sowdan hath fyght begon
The towne of Acrys is I won
Thorugh the erle Roys trechery
All the kyngdome of surry
Iherusalem and the crosse is lorne
And bedleem there Ihesu was borne
Crysten knyghtes be hanged and drawe
The sarasynes hath them all slawe
Crysten men wyfe and grome
Therfore my lorde pope of Rome
Is sore agreued and anoyed
That crystendome is so dystroyed
All crystendome he hath sente and bod
And byddeth them in the name of god
To wende theder with grete hoost
For to fell the sarasynes boost
Wherfore I haue mente
To wende theder with swerdes dente
To wynne the crosse and gete the lose
Frendes what is your purpose
Wyll ye wende saye ye or nay
Erle baron knyght and all that may
They sayd we ben at one accorde
With the to wende Rycharde our lorde
Quod Rycharde frendes gramercy
It is our honour lysteneth why
The kynge of fraunce is wente forth
Ryden este and weste south and north
Thorugh Englonde we wyll do crye
And make a playne treasourye
Moche folke the crosse haue nome
And to kynge Rycharde ben come
On horse and on fote well apparaylled
Thre hondred shyppes well vytaylled
Hawberkes swerdes and knyues
Thyrty shyppes laden benlyues
Of tembre grete and sheldes longe
He let make a toure stronge
That queynte engyners made
Therwith thre shyppes were lade
Another shyppe was laden yet
With a gynne that hyght robynet
With Rycharde a mangenell
With all the takell that therto fell
Whan they were dyght and yare
Out of the heuen for to fare
Ihesu them sente wynde so goode
To bere them ouer the salte flood
Kynge Rycharde sayd to his shypmen
Frendes do as I you ken
And mayster Alyn trenchmere
Where that ye come ferre and nere
And ye mete by the see stronde
Shyppes of ony other londe
Crysten men on lyue and lymme
Loke that ye no good benymme
And yf ye the sarasyns mete
Loke on lyue that ye none lete
Catell dormonde or galaye
Also I gyue it to your praye
But at the cyte of maryle
There ye must abyde a whyle
By cable and auncker there to ryde
Me and myn hoost there to abyde
For I and my knyghtes and eke swayne
Wyll wende thorugh out all almayne
To speke with Medarde the kynge
To wote why and for what thynge
That he me in his pryson helde
And but he my treasour agayne yelde
That he toke of me with falsshede
I shall acquyte hym his mede
Now thynketh Rycharde as I wene
Or he fether goth auenged to bene
Thus kynge Rycharde as ye may here
Became goddes palmere
Ayenst his enemys
The archebysshop syr bawdemys
Before wente with knyghtes fyue
By bourdes and by constantyue
At the last there afterwarde
Came the doughty kynge Rychrde
Kynge Rycharde called his Iustyse
Lo ye do at my deuyse
My londe kepe with skyll and lawe
Traytours loke ye hange and drawe
In my stede shall ye be here
The bysshop of Yorke my chauncelere
I wyll it be at his wyll
To werke after ryght and skyll
That I here after here no stryfe
As ye wyll saue my lyfe
And in name of god almyght
I bydde you rule the poore a ryght
There they helde vp theyr honde
With ryght to rule all Englonde
The bysshop them gaue his blessynge
And bad for them in chyrche to synge
And prayed Ihesu cryste hym spede
In heuen to quyte hym his mede
Thre hoostes kynge Rycharde let make
To hethenesse for goddes sake
In the formest warde he wolde be
With hardy men of grete poste
That other ledeth Fouke doly
Thomas the thyrde certaynly
And euery hoost gan with hym lede
Fourty thousande good at nede
None therin but men of myght
That were proude in warre to fyght
Whan they were passed the se
Sone he deled his hoost in thre
For he wolde not the folke anoye
Ne theyr goodes not dystroye
Ne no thynge take without paye
The kynge cōmaunded also I saye
Euery hoost from other ten myle
Thus he ordeyned that wyle
In the myddell hym to ryde
And his hoostes abothe syde
Forth he wente with gladde chere
Thorugh londes ferre and nere
Tyll they came without ensoyne
Vnto the cyte of coloyne
The hygh mayre of that cyte
Commaunded as I tell the
That no man sholde sell hym vytayle
For no thynge that myght auayle
The stewarde tolde Rycharde the kynge
Soone anone of that tydynge
That he ne myght no vytayle bye
Neyther for loue ne for monye
Thus defended Medarde the kynge
For he the hateth ouer all thynge
And well he woteth that ye haue swore
All that ye take for to paye fore
Ye wyll take with no maystry
Therfore he weneth sykerly
That ye ne shall haue mete none
Thus he weneth thy men to stone
Kynge Rycharde sayd also hym thought
That he ne shall lette vs nought
Stewarde I commaunde the
Bye vs vessell grete plente
Dysshes cuppes and sawcers
Bolles trowes and platters
Fattes cowles and costrelles
Make our mete without les
Whether ye wyll sethe or bake brede
And to poore men so god you rede
That ye fynde in all the towne
That they come to mete at my sommowne
Whan the mete was dressed and dyght
The kynge commaunded to a knyght
After the meyre for to wende
And other barons good and hende
Anone they were to the borde set
And fayre seruyce before them fet
Kynge Rycharde asked in hyenge
Syr meyre where is thy lorde the kynge
Syr he sayd at gonorye
Sykerly without lye
And also my lady the quene
The thyrde daye ye shall them sene
And margery his doughter fre
That of thy comynge blythe wyll be
They wysshe as it is lawe in lande
A menssenger there came dryuande
Vpon a stede whyte as mylke
All I trapped in tuly sylke
With fyue hondred belles ryngynge
He came full merly syngynge
And downe of his stede he alyght
And grette kynge Rycharde aplyght
The kynges doughter that is so fre
She the greteth well by me
With an hondred knyghtes and mo
She cometh or ye to bedde go
Kynge Rycharde sayd hyenge
She is welcome ouer all thynge
He made at ease the messengere
With glad semblaunt and mery chere
And gaue hym a clothe of golde
For he was with his lady withholde
They came to hym that same nyght
The knyghtes and that lady bryght
Whan kynge Rycharde myght herse
Welcome lemman than sayd he
Eyther other began to kysse
And made moche Ioye and blysse
There they lefte tyll it was daye
On the morowe they wente theyr waye
And at myddaye before the none
They came before a cyte ryght soone
The name was hyght marburent
There the kynge Rycharde moost lent
Soone his stewarde came hym to
Syr he sayd how shall we do
Suche vytayll as I bought yesterday
For no golde gete it I ne may
Kynge Rycharde sayd with herte fre
Of fruyte here is grete plente
Fygges and reysyns in frayle
And nuttes may serue vs rather than fayle
And wexe somdele cast therto
Talowe and grece I meddled also
And thus ye may our mete make
Sythe that we may none other take
There they dwelled all that nyght
On the morowe to wende as it was ryght
Vnto the cyte of carpentras
There kynge Medarde hym selfe was
For there myght he hym flee nought
Thorugh the londe he had hym sought
The kynge wyste Rycharde was come
Well he wende to ben I none
And in pryson ay to be
But yf my doughter helpe me
She came to hym there he sat
What now fader what is that
Certes doughter I gete blame
But thou me helpe I gete shame
Certes syr she sayd than
As I am gentylwoman
Yf ye wyll be mylde of mode
Kynge Rycharde shall do you but good
But graunte me with good wyll
That he wyll saye to fulfyll
And you in his mercy dothe
And he you kysse shall without othe
And also my lady the quene
Good frendes shall ye bene
She toke her fader and with hym yede
To kynge Rycharde as I you rede
And eke erles and barons mo
And fyfty knyghtes eke also
Kynge Rycharde sawe how that he came
Fayre ayenst hym the waye he name
Kynge Medarde on knees hym sette
And kynge Rycharde there he grette
And sayd I am at thy wyll
Quod Rycharde I wyll nought but skyll
But so thou yelde agayne my tresore
I shall the loue euer more
Loue the and be thy frende
Quod kynge Medarde my sone hende
I shall the swere vpon a boke
Redy is that I of the toke
And yf thou wylte moche more
Of myne owne tresore
I wyll the gyue my peas to make
Kynge Rycharde gan hym in armes take
And kyste hym many tymes sythe
They were frendes and made blythe
That euery daye kynge Medarde
Ere with kynge Rycharde
And after mete soone and swythe
Kynge Rycharde spake with chere blythe
To the kynge that sate hym by
Welcome be ye sykerly
Syr for loue I praye the
Of thy helpe to wende with me
To hethenes without fayle
For goddes loue to gyue batayle
The kynge graunted all in gryth
And all his realme to wende hym with
And my selfe syr therto
Naye quod Rycharde I wyll not so
Thou arte to olde to beker in fyght
I praye the that thou me dyght
An hondred knyghtes styffe to stonde
Of the best in thy londe
For a yere that it be done
And of vytayll redy wone
And squyers that fall them to
The kynge graunted that to do
Another thynge I shall the gyue
That may the helpe whyle thou lyue
Two ryche rynges of golde
The stones therin ben full olde
Fro hens to the londe of ynde
Better shalte thou none fynde
For who that hath that one stone
Water ne shall hym drowne none
That other stone who so it hathe
Fyre ne shall hym do no skathe
¶ How the kynge of fraunce betrayed kynge Rycharde.
QVod kynge Rycharde syr gramercy
His knyghtes were all redy
Sergeauntes of armes and squyers
Stedes I charged and destrers
With armes and with other vytayle
Kynge Rycharde wente forth wt his apparayle
Towarde marcell he gan ryde
With his hoost on eyther syde
Fouke doly and Thomas of multon
With erles dukes & many a bolde baron
Rychardes mayster Roberte of leycester
In Englonde was none his better
And also syr Roberte of turname
Moche englysshe people with hym came
And redy they founde theyr flete
Charged with armure drynke and mete
They shypped armure man and stede
And other store folke to fede
They shypped all by the see stronde
To wende in to the holy londe
The wynde was bothe good and kene
And droue them ouer in to messene
Before the gates of the gryffons
Kynge Rycharde pyght his pauylyons
The kynge of fraunce there he founde
In pauylyons square and rounde
And eyther of them kyste other
And became sworne brother
To wende in to the holy londe
To wreke Ihesu I vnderstonde
A treason thought the kynge of fraunce
To do kynge Rycharde dystaunce
To kynge Tanker he sente a wrytte
That tourned hym to lytell wytte
The kynge Rycharde with strength of honde
Wolde hym haue dryuen out of his londe
Tanker kynge of puyle was
For this wryte he sayd alas
He sente anone his messenger
To his sone that hyght Roger
That was kynge of Cysyle londe
He sholde come to his honde
And sente after his barownes
Erles and lordes of renownes
And whan they were comen euerychone
The kynge sayd to them anone
And tolde how the kynge of fraunce
Had hym warned of a dystaunce
Kynge Roger spake fyrste aboue
And smote peas with his gloue
Mercy my fader at this tyme
Kynge Rycharde is a pylgryme
And crossed in to the holy londe
That wryte lyeth I vnderstonde
I dare for kynge Rycharde swere
That he neuer thought you to fere
But sende to hym a messengere
That he come vnto you here
He wyll come to you full soone
And his thought he wyll tell you anone
The kynge was glad of that counsayle
And sente after hym without fayle
On the morowe he came to hym Iwys
In to the ryche cyte of thys
And founde kynge Tanker in his hall
Amonge his erles and barons all
Eyther gret te other in fayre maner
With mylde wordes and deboner
Than sayd Tanker to kynge Rycharde
Lo syr kynge by saynt Leonarde
It is done me for to wytte
Of a frende here ryght well wrytte
That thou arte come with grete powere
For to reue me of my londes here
Thou were fayre to be a pylgrym
For to slee many a paynym
Than for to greue a crysten kynge
That neuer the mysdyde no thynge
Kynge Rycharde was sore asshamed
And also of his wordes agramd
And sayd Tanker thou arte mystought
For to haue this in thy thought
And suche a rage on me to bere
That I the sholde with armes dere
Suche a treason on me to touche
And on my flesshe I bere the crouche
I ne wyll dwell here but a daye
To morowe I wyll wende my waye
And I praye the syr Tanker kynge
Procure me none euyll thynge
For many men weneth to greue other
And on his heed falleth the fother
For who so wayteth me despyte
Hym selse shall nought passe quyte
Syr quod Tanker be not wrothe for this
Lo here are the letter forsothe Iwys
That the kynge of fraunce me sente
That other daye in presente
K [...]nge Rycharde sawe & vnderstode
The kynge of fraunce wolde hym no gode
Kynge Rycharde and kynge Tanker kyste
And were frendes with the beste
That myght be in ony londe
I loued be Ihesu crystes sonde
Kynge Rycharde wente agayne well styll
And suffred the frensshe kynges wyll
He vndyde his tresore
And bought hym bestes to his store
He let bothe salte and slene
Thre thousande of oxen and kene
Swyne and shepe so many also
No man coude tell tho
And of fysshe foules and venyson
I ne can nought acccount in ryght reason
The kynge of fraunce without wene
Laye in the cyte of messene
And kynge Rycharde without the wall
Vnder the house of the hospytall
The englysshe men wente to shyppynge
And ofte hente harde knockynge
The frensshe and gryffons downe ryghtes
Slewe there our englysshe knyghtes
Kynke Rycharde herde of that dystaunce
And playned to the kynge of fraunce
And he answered he had no wardes
Of the englysshe taylardes
Chase thy gryffons yf thou myght
For of my men getest thou no ryght
Quod kynge Rycharde syth it is so
I wote well what I haue to do
I shall me of them so a wreke
That all the worlde therof shall speke
Crystmasse is a tyme full honeste
Kynge Rycharde it honoured with grete faste
All his clerkes and barons
Were set in theyr pauylyons
And serued with grete plente
Of mete and drynke and eche deynte
Than came there a knyght in grete haste
Vnneth he myght drawe his blaste
He fell on knees and thus he sayd
Mercy Rycharde for Mary mayde
With the frensshe men and the gryffownes
My brother lyeth slayne in the townes
And with hym lyeth slayne fyftene
Of thy knyghtes good and kene
This daye and yesterdaye I tolde arowe
That syxe and thyrty they had I slowe
Faste lesseth your englysshe hepe
Good syr take good kepe
A wreke vs syr manly
Or we shall hastely
Flee peryll I vnderstonde
And tourne agayne to englonde
Kynge Rycharde was wrothe & eger of mode
And began to stare as he were wode
The table with his fote he smote
That it wente on the erth fote hote
And swore he wolde be awreked in haste
He wolde not wende for crystes faste
The hygh daye of crystmasse
They gan them arme more and lasse
Before wente kynge Rycharde
The erle of salysbury afterwarde
That was called by that daye
Syr Wyllyam the longe spaye
The erle of leysestre the erle of herdforde
Fulll comly folowed they theyr lorde
Erles barons and squyers
Bowmen and arblasteres
With kynge Rycharde they gan reke
Of frensshe and gryffons to be awreke
The folke of that cyte aspyed rathe
That englysshe men wolde do them skathe
They shette hastely the gate
With barres that they founde therate
And swythe they ranne on the wall
And shotte with bowe and spryngall
And called our men saunce fayle
Awaye dogges with your tayle
For all your boost and your orguyle
Men shall threste in your cuyle
Thus they mysdyde and myssayde
All that daye kynge Rycharde they trayde
Our kynge that daye for no nede
In batayll myght no thynge spede
On a nyght kynge Rycharde & his barons
Wente to theyr pauylyous
Who that slepte or who that woke
That nyght kynge Rycharde no rest toke
On the morowe he of sente his counseyllers
Of the portes the mayster maryners
Lordynges he sayd ye ben with me
Your counseyll ought for to be pryue
All we sholde vs venge fonde
With queyntyse and with strength of honde
Of frensshe and of gryffons
That haue dyspysed our nacyons
I haue a castell I vnderstonde
Is made of tembre of Englonde
With syxe stages full of tourelles
Well flourysshed with cornelles
Therin I and many a knyght
Ayenst the frensshe shall take the fyght
That castell shall haue a sory nom
It shall hyght the mate gryffon
Maryners arme your shyppes
And do vp your manshyppes
By the water halfe ye them assayle
And we wyll by londe saunce fayle
For come ye neuer to me
Tyll I of them a wreked be
Therto men myght here crye
Helpe god and saynt Mary
The maryners gan to hye
Bothe with shyppe and with galye
Syth ore spredde and sayle also
Towarde them they gan go
The knyghtes framed the tre castyll
Before the cyte vpon an hyll
All this sawe the kynge fraunce
And sayd haue ye no doutaunce
Of all these englysshe cowardes
For they ne be but losardes
But reyse vp your mangenell
And caste to theyr tre castell
And shote to them with arblast
The tayled dogges for to agast
Now harken of Rycharde our kynge
How he let bere in the dawnynge
Terges and hardes his folke all
Ryght before the cyte wall
His hoost he let at ones crye
Men myght it here in the skye
Now let come the frensshe losardes
And gyue batayll to the taylardes
ye frensshe men them armed all
And ranne on fast vpon the wall
And began the englysshe for to assayle
There began a stronge batayle
The englysshe shotte with arblast & bowe
Frensshe and gryffons felde and slowe
The galeys came vnto the cyte
And had nygh wonne entre
And harde myned vnder the wall
That many gryffons gan downe fall
With hoked arowes and eke quarelles
Helde them out of the tourelles
And brake bothe legges and armes
And eke theyr neckes it was none harmes
The frensshe men came to the stoure
And caste wylde fyre out of the toure
Wherwith I wote forsothe Iwys
They brente and slewe many englysshe
And the englysshe men defended them welee
With good swerdes of browne stele
And slewe of them so grete chepes
That there laye moche folke on hepes
And at the londe gate kynge Rycharde
Helde his assawte lyke harde
And so manly he toke one
He lefte of his men neuer one
He loked besyde and sawe houe
A knyght that tolde hym with a gloue
Kynge Rycharde and he hym tolde
Tales in Englysshe stoute and bolde
A lorde he sayd I aspye now ryght
A thynge that maketh myn herte lyght
Here he sayd is a gate one
That hath warde ryght none
The folke is gone to the water toure
For to do them theyr socoure
And there we may without dente
Entre in now verament
Blyche therof was kynge Rycharde
Stoutly he wente thederwarde
Many a knyght doughty of dede
After prycked vpon theyr stede
Kynge Rycharde entred without drede
Hym folowed full grete ferhede
His baner vpon the wall he pulte
Many a gryffon it byhulte
As greyhoundes stryken out of lese
Kynge Ryeharde threste amonge the prese
Seuen chaynes with his good swerde
Our kynge for carfe a mydwarde
That were drawen for grete doute
Within the gates and without
Porcules and gates vp he wan
And lette come in euery man
Men myght se by strete and lane
Frensshe and gryffons gaue bane
And some to horse ran in haste
Dores and wyndowes barred faste
And euer men bare them vp with leuours
And slewe them with grete vygours
All that they founde ayenst them stonde
Passed thorugh dethes honde
They brake cofers and toke tresours
Golde and syluer and countours
Iewelles stones and spycery
All that they founde in tresoury
There was none of englylshe blode
That he ne had as moche gode
As they wolde drawe or bere
To shyppe or to pauylyons I swere
And euer cryed kynge Rycharde
Slee downe euery frensshe cowarde
And ken them in bataylles
That ye haue no tayles
The kynge of fraunce came pryckynge
Ayenst Rycharde our kynge
And fell on knees downe of his hors
And bad mercy for goddes corps
For the crowne and for the loue
Of Ihesu cryste kynge aboue
And for the vyage and for the crose
He sholde be in gree and take lose
And he wolde haue honde take
They sholde amende all the wrake
They that had hym or his
Ony thynge done amys
Kynge Rycharde had grete pyte
Of the kynge of fraunce that sat on kene
And lyght downe so sayth the boke
And in his armes vp hym toke
And sayd it sholde be peas styll
And yelde the twone all to his wyll
And bad hym nought greue hym tho
Though he venged hym of his fo
That had his good knyghtes quelde
And eke on hym despyte I telde
The kynge of fraunce gan to preche
And bad Rycharde be his soules leche
And the tresoure yelde agayne than
That he had take of euery man
And elles he ne myght in goddes paye
To Iherusalem take the waye
Kynge Rycharde sayd with theyr tresoure
They myght nought amende the dyshonoure
And that they haue done me or this
And syr also thou dyde amys
Whan thou sentest to Tanker the kynge
To appayre me with thy lesynge
We haue to Iherusalem the waye sworne
Who breketh our pylgrymage he is forlorne
Or he that maketh ony medlaye
Bytwene vs two in this waye
Whan abbated was that dystaunce
There came two Iustyces of fraunce
Vpon two stedes ryde
And kynge Rycharde they ganchyde
That one was hyght Margaryte
That other syr Hewe Impetyte
Swythe sore they hym trayde
Cleped taylarde and myssayde
Kynge Rycharde helde a tronchon tewe
And to them two he hym drewe
Margaryte he gaue a dente than
Aboue the eye vpon the pan
The skull brake with that dente
The ryght eye flewe out quytemente
And he fell downe deed in haste
Hewe of Impetyte was a gaste
And prycked awaye without fayle
And Rycharde was soone at his tayle
And gaue hym a stroke on the molde
That deed he thought be he sholde
Ternes and quernes he gaue hym there
And sayd syr thus thou shalte lere
To myssaye thy ouerhedlynge
Go playne now to your frensshe kynge
An archebysshop came full soone
He fell on knees and badde a bone
Of kynge Rycharde he had his grace
That he wolde leue his stryfe in that place
And there no more harme do
For goddes loue the people to
Kynge Rycharde graunted then
And drewe to pauylyon all his men
To this daye men may here speke
How the englysshe were there awreke
All the whyle that they were there
They myght well bye theyr chafere
There was none so hardy a man
That one euyll worde spake gan
¶ How thre of kynge Rychardes shyppes were perysshed in the see / and how the emperour put his men in pryson
KYnge Rycharde in peas and reste
Fro crystmasse the hygh feste
Dwelled there tyll after the lente
And than on his waye he wente
In marche moneth the kynge of fraunce
Wente to shyppe without dystaunce
Whan he was gone soone afterwarde
Came the doughty kynge Rycharde
Forth towarde Acrys wende he wolde
With moche store of syluer and golde
Foure shyppes were charged I fande
Towarde Cyprys all saylande
Charged with tresour euery dell
And soone a sorowfull caas there fell
A grete tempest arose sondaynly
That lasted fyue dayes sykerly
It brake theyr maste and theyr ore
And theyr takell lesse and more
Anker bothe sprette and rother
Ropes cordes one and other
And were in poynt to synke a downe
As they came ayenst the lymosowne
The thre shyppes ryght anone
All to brake ayenst the stone
All to peces they to tare
Vnneth the folke saued ware
The maryners vnneth it with helde
That shyppe lefte in the shelde
For the pryffons with sharpe wordes
Some with axes and some with swerdes
Grete slaughter of our englysshe maked
And spoyled the quycke all naked
Syxtene hondred they brought on lyue
And in to pryson hondredes fyue
And also naked syxty score
As they were of theyr moders bore
Of the shyppes brekynge they were blythe
The Iustyces of Cyprys ran full swythe
And drewe vp cofers many folde
Full of syluer and of golde
Dysshes cuppes broches and rynges
Cuppes of golde and ryche thynges
No man by south ne by north
Ne coude account what it was worth
And all was lorne that tresour
Wheder that wolde the emperour
The thyrde daye afterwarde
The wynde came dryuynge kynge Rycharde
With all his grete nauyes
And his sayiynge galyes
To a shyppe that stode in depe
The gentylmen therin dyde wepe
And whan they sawe Rycharde the kynge
Theyr wepynge tourned all to laughynge
They welcomed hym with worshyppes
And tolde hym the brekynge of theyr shyppes
And the robbery of his tresoure
And all that other byshonoure
Than waxed kynge Rycharde full wrothe
And he swore a full grete othe
By Ihesu cryste our sauyoure
It sholde abye the emperoure
He cleped syr Steuen and Wyllyam
And also Roberte of turnam
Thre gentyll barons of englonde
Wyse of speche doughty of honde
Now go and saye to the emperoure
That he yelde agayne my tresoure
Or I swere by saynt Denys
I wyll haue thre syth bouble of his
And yelde my men out of pryson
And for the deed paye raunson
Or hasteyl I hym warne
I wyll worke hym a harme
Bothe with spere and with launce
Anone I shall take vengaunce
The messengers anone forth wente
To do theyr lordes cōmaundement
And hendly sayd theyr message
The emperoure began to rage
He grunte his tethe and faste blewe
A knyfe after syr Roberte he threwe
He blente awaye with a lepe
And it flewe in a dore a span depe
And syth he cryed as vncourteys
Out taylardes of my paleys
Now go and saye your tayled kynge
That I owe hym no thynge
I am full gladde of his lore
I wyll hym yelde none other answore
And he shall fynde me to morowe
At the hauen to do hym sorowe
And werke hym as moche wrake
As his men that I haue take
The messengers wente out full swythe
Of theyr ascapynge they were blythe
The emperours stewarde with honoure
Sayd thus vnto the emperoure
Syr he sayd thou hast vnryght
Thou haddest almoost slayne a knyght
That is messenger vnto a kynge
The best vnder the sonne shynynge
Thou hast thy selfe tresour grete plente
Yf thou it withhelde it were grete pyte
For he is crossed and pylgrym
And all his men that ben with hym
Lette hym do his pylgrymage
And kepe thy selfe trome domage
The eyen twynkled of the emperoure
And smyled as an euyll traytoure
His knyfe he drewe out of his shethe
Therwith to do the stewarde scathe
And called hym without fayle
And sayd he wolde hym accounsayle
The stewarde on knees hym set a downe
With the emperour for to rowne
And the emperour of euyll truste
Carued of his nose by the gruste
And sayd traytour thefe stewarde
Go playne to englysshe taylarde
And yf he come on my londe
I shall hym do suche a shonde
Hym and all his men quycke flayne
But he in haste tourne agayne
The stewarde his nose hente
Iwys his vysage was I shente
Quyckely out of the castellran
Leue he ne toke of no man
The messengers mercy he cryed
For Maryes loue in that tyde
They sholde tell to theyr lorde
Of the dyshonour ende and worde
And haste you agayne to londe
And I shall sese in to your houde
The keyes of euery toure
That oweth that fals emperoure
And I shall brynge hym this nyght
The emperours doughter bryghe
And also an hondred knyghtes
Stoute in batayll stronge in fyghtes
Ayenst that fals emperoure
That hath done vo this dyshonoure
The messengers them hyed harde
Tyll they came to kynge Rycharde
They founde kynge Rycharde playe
At the chesse in his galaye
The erle of rychemonde with hym played
And Rycharde wan all that he layed
The messengers tolde all the dyshonour
That them dyde the emperour
And the despyte he dyde his stewarde
In the despyte of kynge Rycharde
And the stewarde presentynge
His byhest and his helpynge
Than answered kynge Rycharde
In dede lyon in thought lybarde
Of your sawes I am blythe
Anone set vs to londe swythe
A grete crye arose fote hote
Out was shotte many a bote
The bowe men and eke the arblasters
Armed them at all auenters
And shotte quarelles and eke flone
As thycke as the hayle stone
The folke of the countre gan renne
And were fayne to voyde and fleune
The barons and good knyghtes
After came anone ryghtes
With theyr lorde kynge Rycharde
That neuer was founde no cowarde
¶ How kynge Rycharde gaue batayll to the emperour / & How ye emperour fledde awaye for fere that he had / & there was slayne many of the emperours folke / and after that he wente streyght to Acrys
KYnge Rycharde I vnderstonde
Or he wente out of Englonde
Let hym make an axe for the nones
To breke therwith ye sarasyns bones
The heed was wrought ryght wele
Therin was twenty pounde of stele
And whan he came in to Cyprys londe
The axe toke in his honde
All that he hytte he all to frapped
The gryffons awaye faste rapped
Neuertheles many one he claued
And theyr vnthonkes therby leued
And the pryson whan he came to
With his axe he smote ryght tho
Dores berres and Iren chaynes
And delyuered his men out of paynes
He let them all delyuer cloth
For theyr despyte he was wroth
And swore by Ihesu our sauyoure
He sholde abye that fals emperoure
All the bourgeyses of the towne
Kynge Rycharde let slee without raunsowne
Theyr tresour and theyr meles
He toke to his owne deles
Tydynges came to the emperour
Kynge Rycharde was in lymasour
And had his burgeyses to deth I do
No wonder though hym were wo
He sente anone without fayle
After all his counsayle
That they came to hym on hye
To wreke hym of his enemye
His hoost was come by mydnyght
And redy on the morowe for to fyght
Herken now of the stewarde
He came at nyght to kynge Rycharde
And the emperours doughter hym with
She grette kynge Rycharde in peas & gryth
She fell on knees and gan to wepe
And sayd kynge Rycharde god the kepe
The stewarde sayd I am shente for the
Gentyll lorde awreke thou me
The emperours doughter bryght
I the betake gentyll knyght
The keyes also in batayll here
Of euery castell in his powere
An hondred knyghtes I you behyght
Lo them here redy in all ryght
That shall you lede and socoure
Ayenst that fals emperoure
Thou shalte be bothe lorde and syre
Or to morowe of his empyre
And swete syr without fayle
Yet the behoueth my counsayle
I shall the lede by a coost
Pryuely vpon his hoost
In his pauylyon ye shall hym take
Than thynke vpon the moche wrake
That he hath done the or this
Though ye hym slee no force it is
Moche thanked kynge Rycharde
Of the counseyll the stewarde
And swore by god our sauyoure
His nose sholde be bought well soure
Ten hondred stedes good and sure
Kynge Rycharde let araye in trappure
On eueryche lepte an englysshe knyght
Well armed in armure bryght
And as the stewarde applyght
Ladde them by the mone lyght
So nygh the emperours pauylywne
Of the turmppettes he herde swone
It was before the dawynynge
The stewarde sayd to Rycharde the kynge
Lette se Rycharde assayle yerne
The pauylyon with the golden her ne
Therin lyeth the emperour
Awreke thou this dyshonour
Than was Rycharde as fresshe to fyght
As euer was foule to the flyght
He prycked forth vpon his stede
Hym folowed full grete ferrede
His axe he helde in honde I drawe
Many gryffons he hath I slawe
The waytes of that hoost that dyde aspye
And full loude began they for to crye
We betrayed and I nome
Horse and harneys lordes all and some
In an euyll tyme our emperour
Robbed kynge Rycharde of his tresour
For he is here amonge vs
And sleeth downe ryght by Ihesus
The englysshe knyghtes for the nones
All to hewed the gryffons bodyes & bones
They smote the cordes and fell downe
Of many a ryche pauylyowne
And euer cryed squyer and knyght
Smyte lay on slee downe ryght
yelde the tresour ayenwarde
That ye toke from kynge Rycharde
ye ben worthy to haue suche mede
With many woundes to lye and blede
In the emperours pauylyon kynge Rycharde
Alyght so dyde the stewarde
And the emperour was fledde awaye
Hym selfe alone or it was daye
Flowen was that fals cowarde
Narowe hym sought kynge Rycharde
Longe or the daye began to dawe
Twenty thousande gryffons were I slawe
Of sylke sendell and syclaton
Was the emperours pauylyon
In the worlde neuer none syche
Ne by moche thynge so ryche
Kynge Rycharde wan the grete worshyp
And bad they sholde be lad to shyp
Suche at Acrys was there none founde
Pauylyons of so moche mounde
Cuppes of golde grete and smale
He wan there without tale
Many cofers small and grete
He founde there full I bere
Two stedes founde the kynge Rycharde
That one hygh fauell and that other lyarde
In the worlde was not theyr pere
Dromedary nor destrere
Stede rabyte ne camayle
That ran so swyfte without fayle
For a thousande pounde I tolde
Sholde not that one be solde
All that his men before had lore
Seuen double they had therfore
Tydynges to the emperour was come
That his doughter was I nome
And how that his hygh stewarde
Her had delyuered to kynge Rycharde
By that he wyste well I wys
That he had done amys
Two messengers he clyped anone
And bad them to kynge Rycharde gone
And saye your emperour and your kynge
That I hym sende goddes gretynge
Homage by yere I wyll hym gyue & yelde
And all my londe I wyll of hym helde
So that he wyll for charyte
In peas here after leue me
The messengers anone forth wente
And sayd theyr lordes cōmaundemente
Kynge Rycharde answered therto
I graunte well that it be so
Go and sayd your emperour
That he dyde grete dyshonour
Whan he robbed pylgrymes
That were goynge to the paynymes
Let hym yelde me my tresour euery dele
Yf he wyll be my specyele
And all that saye your emperour
That he amende that dyshonour
That he dyde to his stewarde
In despyte of kynge Rycharde
And that he come erly to morowe
And crye me mercy with sorowe
Homage by yere me to bere
And elles by my crowne I swere
He shall not haue a fote of londe
Neuer more but of my honde
The messengers by one accorde
Tolde this the emperour theyr lorde
Than the emperour was full wo
That he this dyde sholde do
To kynge Rycharde he came on the morowe
In his herte he had moche sorowe
He sell on knees so sayth the boke
Kynge Rycharde by bothe the fete he toke
And cryed mercy with good entent
And he forgaue hym his maltalent
Fewte he dyde hym and homage
Before all his baronage
That daye they were at one accorde
And in same dyde ete at one borde
Grete solace and moche playe
Togyder they were all that daye
And whan it drewe towarde the eue
The emperour toke his leue
And wente towarde his hostell
In herte hym was nothynge well
He helde hym selfe a foule cowarde
That he dyde homage to kynge Rycharde
And thought how he hym awreke myght
Forth he rode anone ryght
To a cyte that hyght boffenent
He came by daye verament
There he founde many a grete syre
The rychest men of his empyre
To them playned the emperour
Of the shame and of the dyshonour
That hym dyde kynge Rycharde
Thorugh the helpe of his stewarde
Vp there stode a noble barowne
Ryche of castell and of towne
The stewardes eme he was
That the emperour had shente his fas
Syr he sayd thou arte mystaught
Thou arte all aboute naught
Without encheson and Iugement
Thy good stewarde thou haste I shent
That sholde as he well couthe
Vs haue holpe and saued nouthe
Thorugh thy wyll malycyous
Ryght so thou woldest serue vs
And I saye the wordes bolde
With suche a lorde kepe I not holde
To fyght ayenst Rycharde the kynge
The best vnder the sonne shynynge
Ne none of all my baronage
Ne shall the neuer do homage
All the other sayd at one worde
That Rycharde was theyr kynde lorde
And the emperour for his vylanye
Was well worthy for to abye
The emperour sawe and vnderstode
His barons wolde hym no gode
To another towne he wente & helde hym thare
In his herte he had moche care
That same tyme the hygh stewarde
Counseylled with kynge Rycharde
He sayd that hym forthought sore
That the emperour was so forlore
They sought hym in all wyse
And founde hym in a cyte of pryse
And certaynly kynge Rycharde
Wolde no loue to hym warde
For he had broken his treuth
Of hym had he no reuth
But let a sergeaunt hym bynde
His hondes soone hym behynde
And caste hym in to a galey
And ledde hym in to surrey
And swore by Ihesu that made mone & sterre
Ayenst the sarasynes he sholde lerne to werre
Whan all this warre abated was
Kynge Rycharde set that londe in peas
The elre of leycestre full truly
Thorugh counseyll of his barony
He made hym stewarde of that londe
To kepe his realme to his honde
Grete feest they helde afterwarde
His shyppes let dyght kynge Rycharde
Forth towarde Acrys he wolde
With moche store of syluer and golde
With two hondred shyppes I fynde
Saylynge forwarde with the wynde
And afterwarde fyfty galyes
For to warde his nauyes
And as the doughty kynge Rycharde
Came saylynge to Acrys warde
And had sayled with wynde at wyll
Ten dayes fayre and styll
The alleuenth daye they sayled in tempest
That nyght ne daye had they no rest
And as they were in auenture
They a sawe dromonde without mesure
The dromonde was so heuy of fraught
Vnneth myght it sayle aught
He was towarde the sarasynes
Charged with corne and with wynes
With wylde fyre and other vytayle
Kynge Rycharde them sawe without fayle
He bad one haast trenchmere
And in a galey to wende them nere
And axe whens that they were
And what they haue in chafere
Alyn quyckly and men I nowe
To the dromonde gan rowe
And asked whens they were
And what they had in chafere
Aborde stode vp theyr latemere
And answered alyn trenchemere
With the kynge of fraunce we be saunce fayle
Frome poyle we brynge this vytayle
A moneth we haue lyen in the see
Towarde Acrys now wende we
Wynde vp sayle quod alyn trenchemere
And sayle we forth the wynde is clere
Nay syr he sayd also I fynde
We must nedes come behynde
For we be so heuy I fraught
Vnneth may we sayle naught
Than sayd alyn soone anone
I ne here of you speke but one
But stonde ye vp all in fere
That we myght mo of you here
And knowe your token after than
For we wyll not leue one man
Certes quod the latemere
With no mo spekest thou here
They were to nyght in grete tempest
And now they lye and take theyr rest
Certes quod trenchemere alayne
To kynge Rycharde than wyll I sayne
That ye be all sarasynes
Charged with golde and with wynes
The sarasynes sterte vp all prest
And sayd felowe go do thy best
For kynge Rycharde and his galyes
We wyll not gyue two flyes
The trenchemere began to rowe harde
Tyll he came to kynge Rycharde
And swore to hym by saynt Ihone
It were sarasynes euerychone
That sayd our kynge of grete reuowne
That hyght Rycharde cure de lyowne
Of your sawes I am blythe
Let eche man arme them swythe
Stere thou thy galey trenchemere
I wyll assayle that pantenere
With myn axe I wyll them assayle
Of sarasynes I wyll not fayle
Anone his axe was to hym brought
His other armes forgate he nought
To hym came maryners I nowe
Kynge Rycharde bad them fast rowe
Now rowe on fast and who is faynte
In euyll water mote he be draynte
They rowed faste and layde to
And songe heuenhowe rombylo
The galey yede as fast
As quarelles out of arblast
And as the dromonde with the wynde
A galey came saylynge behynde
And smote hym swythe fast
That the sterne all to brast
The sarasynes were armed wele
Bothe in Iren and in stele
And stode aborde and fought harde
Ayenst the doughty kynge Rycharde
Kynge Rycharde and his knyghtes
Slewe the sarasynes downe ryghtes
And they began to wroke them wo
Alwaye there stode vp mo and mo
And rapped on them for the nones
Stronge strokes for with harde stones
Out of the toppe castell on hye
That neuer was Rycharde his deth so nye
Than came seuen galeys behynde
To that dormonde faste saylynde
Tho stode aborde baron and knyght
To helpe kynge Rycharde for to fyght
A stronge batayll there began then
Bytwene them and the hethen men
With swerdes speres and dartes kene
Flones quarelles flewe bytwene
As thycke without ony stynte
As hayle after thunder dynte
And in the bekerynge that was so harde
In to the dromonde came kynge Rycharde
Whan he was therin with grete haste
He dressed his backe to the maste
With his axe all that he raught
Hastely the deth they caught
Some he hytte on the bassyn
That they all claue to the chyn
And some to the gyrdell stede
And some the to shyppes brede
Some on the necke so hytte he
That they flewe in ro these
For none armure withstode his axe
No more than a knyfe doth the waxe
The sarasynes as I you tell
Sayd he was the deuyll of hell
And ouer borde than lepte they
And drowned them selfe I you sey
Syxtene hondred there were quelde
But thyrty sarasynes he at helde
That they sholde bere wytnes
Of that batayll at Acrys
Kynge Rycharde founde therin faunce fayle
Moche store and grete vytayle
Many bartelles of fyre gregeys
And many a thousande of bowes turkeys
Hoked arowes and quarelles
He founde there full many barelles
And of whete grete plente
Golde and syluer and eche deynte
Of the tresour had he nought the mounde
That in the dormonde was founde
For it was drowned in the flode
Or halfe vncharged was the gode
Auaunced had ben all crystente
Had the dormonde passed the see
And came to Acrys from kynge Rycharde
An hondred wynter there afterwarde
For all the crysten men vnder the sonne
Ne had not Acrys ben I wonne
And thus kynge Rycharde wan the dormonde
Thorugh goddes helpe and saynt Edmonde
¶ How kynge Rycharde cutte a two a grete chayne / & how an archebysshop tolde hym the sorowe that they had suffre afore.
KYnge Rycharde after anone ryght
Towarde Acrys gan hym dyght
And as he sayled towarde surrye
He was warned of a spye
How the folke of the hethen lawe
A grete chayne they had I drawe
Ouer the hauen of Acrys fers
Was fastened to two pyllers
That no shyppe sholde in wynne
Ne tho out that were there in
Therfore seuen yere and more
All crysten kynges laye thore
And with hongre suffre payne
For lettynge of that same chayne
Whan kynge Rycharde herde that tydynge
For Ioye his herte beg [...]n to sprynge
And swore and sayd in his thought
All that ne sholde them kepe nought
Aswyfte stronge galey he toke
Trenchemere so sayth the boke
And stered the galey ryght euen
All mydwarde the hauen
Were the maryners neuer so wrothe
He made them rowe and sayle bothe
The galey yede as swyfte
As ony foule by the lyfte
And kynge Rycharde that was so good
With his axe afore the shyppe stode
And whan he came to the chayne
With his axe he smote it atwayne
That all the barons verament
Sayd it was a noble dente
And for Ioye of that dede
The cuppes faste aboute yede
With good wyne pyment and clare
And sayled towarde Acrys cyre
Kynge Rycharde out of his galye
Let cast wylde fyre in to the skye
And the fyrst grekes in to the se
All on a fyre were the
His trumppettes yede in his galye
Men myght it here in to the skye
Trompettes hornes and shalmyse
The see brente all of fyre grekes
Gynnes he had of wonder wyse
Mangenelles of grete quyentyse
Arblast bowe made with gynne
The holy londe therwith to wynne
Ouer all other vtterly
He had a myle of grete maystry
In the myddes of a shyppe to stonde
Suche ne sawe they neuer in no londe
Foure sayles were therto all newe
Yelowe and grene rede and blewe
With canuas I layde all aboute
Full costly within and without
And all within full of fyre
Of torches made of wexe clere
Ouerthwarte and endlonge
With spryngelles of fyre they dyde honde
Grounde they neyther corne ne good
But robbed as they were wood
Out of theyr eyen came rede blode
Before the trough one there stode
That all in blode was begone
Suche another was neuer none
And hornes he had vpon his hede
The sarasynes of hym had grete drede
For the robbynge of the stones
They wende it had ben mennes bones
For it was within the nyght
They were a grysed of that syght
And sayd he was the deuyll of hell
That was come them to quell
A lytell before the lyght of the daye
Clenly they were done awaye
Kynge Rycharde after the meruayle
Wente quyckly to londe faunce fayle
The kynge of fraunce ayenst hym came
And in his harneys he hym name
Rycharde kyssed hym with grete honour
So dyde euery kynge and emperour
All the kynges of crystente
That had there longe be
And longe had layne in dolour
Vnderfonde Rycharde with honour
An archebysshop of grete pryse
Dyde kynge Rycharde his seruyce
And syth ledde hym as ye may se
In to a pauylyon of preuyte
And tolde hym there a dolefull tale
Of a shrewde many and fale
Now he sayd kynge Rycharde I here
This syege hath lasted seuen yere
It may not be let for thy
Moche sorowe haue we suffred sykerly
For he had no castell
That vs of ony warde fell
But a wyde dyche and a depe
We made vs within to kepe
With barbycanes for the nones
Hye I wrought with harde stones
Whan the dyche was I made
Salandyn the sowdan was glade
And came on vs with grete route
And beset vs all aboute
And with hym markys feraunt
That lyueth on mahowne and termagaunt
He was a crysten kynge some whyle
He hath done vs more shame & gyle
Than the sowdan and his hoost
The fader and sone and holy goost
Graunte hym grace of worldes shame
Markys feraunt by his name
Our fyrst batayll sekerly
That was stronge and deedly
Well fought our crysten knyghtes
And slewe the sarasynes downe ryghtes
Our crysten had the maystry
The sarasynes fledde with sory crye
We slewe many of them tho
And they of vs many also
I shall tell you of what case
To many a man it fell alas
As we dyde sarasynes to dede
It befell a noble stede
Out raged fro a paynym
The crysten fast folowed hym
The sarasynes sawe where we came
And fledde asyde all than
And came ayenst vs with stronge fyght
And slewe many a crysten knyght
And there we lost or we wyste
The best bodyes vnder cryste
The erle feres of Englonde
There was neuer doughtyer of honde
And the emperour of almayne
And Ianyn the erle of spayne
Twelue thousande of our meyne
There was slayne with grete pyte
Therof was the sowdan glade
On the morowe a newe sawte he made
And he let take all the cors
Bothe of deed men and of hors
And cast them in to our well
Vs to poyson and to quell
Dyde he neuer a worse dede
To crysten men for no nede
For that poyson and that brethe
Fourty thousande toke theyr dethe
Soone after it was not to hyde
The thyrde case vs gan betyde
A shyppe came saylynge on the see
Charged with whete grete plente
And wylde fyre and armure bryght
To helpe the sarasynes to fyght
Our crysten toke the rede saunce fayle
That they wolde the shyppe assayle
And so we dyde to our domage
The wynde blewe fast with grete rage
The sarasynes drewe vp theyr sayle
And ouersayled vs without fayle
There we lost fourty score
That hath vs greued swythe sore
On saynt Iames euyn verament
The sarasynes out of Acrys went
And pyght pauylyons grete and wynde
For to haue begyled vs that tyde
Our crysten men were wyght
Erle baron squyer and knyght
Sawe the sarasynes had ryches
And we of all good destres
We thought to wyn to our pay
Of that tresour yf that we may
Fyfty thousande them armed wele
Bothe in Iron and in stele
And wente forth to batayllynge
The sarasynes sawe theyr comynge
And fledde asyde swythe faste
And our meyne came after in haste
And gan ryde with grete randon
Tyll they came to theyr pauylyon
They founde there felowe rede
Tho we wende they fledde for drede
We founde therin brede and wyne
Golde and syluer and bawdekyne
Vessell of syluer ouppes of golde
More than we take wolde
Some stode some sate downe
And ete and dranke grete foysowne
After mete pauylyons newe
Were with swerdes all to hewe
And charged horses with vytayle
As nyse men sholde without fayle
Golde and syluer they put in males
And bounde them faste with gyrdelles
Whan eche man had his charge
Home ehey wente with spere and targe
The sarasynes sawe theyr wendynge
And came after faste slyngynge
At shorte wordes a grete route
Had beset vs all aboute
Soone the male were downe caste
Ayenst the sarasynes they fought faste
There we loste thousandes fyftene
Noble men hardy and kene
This greued vs ryght sore
For we wende all to be lore
But god almyghty heuen kynge
He sente vs soone socourynge
The doughty erle of champayne
And good knyghtes of brytayne
And randulfe the gamyles
Iohan neuell and his brother myles
And Bawdewyne a clerke full mery
The archebysshop of Caunterbury
And with them came his neuewe
A noble baron of grete vertewe
Roberte gaunter of englonde
Ayenst the sarasynes for to stonde
And many knyghtes of hongery
And other noble cheuallery
Than helde we a grete batayle
But a harde case befell vs without fayle
At myghelmasse it must be tolde
The weder began to wexe colde
Tho fell bothe rayne and hayle
And snowe fyue fote witdout fayle
Thonder lyghtnynge & weder toughe
For honger therwith our men it sloughe
For honger we lost and colde wyndes
Of our solke thre score thousandes
Than we our good hors slowe
Soden and eten the guttes towe
The flesshe was deled for grete deynte
Therof had no man plente
But we ete it without brede
To peces we carued the hede
In water we boyled the blode
That vs thought mete full gode
A quarter of whete men vs solde
For thre pounde of floraunce tolde
For fourty pounde men solde an axe
Though it were but lytell I waxe
A swyne for an hondred floryne
A gose for halfe a marke of golde fyne
And for an henne to syke thynges
Men gaue fyue shelynges
And for an egge pens alleuen
And for a pere syxe or seuen
For an appell men gaue pens syxe
And thus our folke vnblythe wyxe
And dyed for honger and for wo
The ryche men toke to rede tho
Aryche dole for to dyght
To barons and to many a poore knyght
Twelue pens men eueryche
And syxe to poore that were not ryche
And foure to euery small wyght
Thus the ryche the poore dyght
Therwith the more and the lasse
Bought them flesshe of horse and asse
They myght none other thynge gete
They thought it full good mete
I haue the tolde kynge Rycharde here
Of our folke theyr lere
And the domage of Acrys hoost
But blessyd be the holy goost
And Mary that bare Ihesus
That thou arte amonge vs
Thorugh thy helpe I hope well
The sarasynes downe to fell
¶ How kynge Rycharde wan the cyte of Acrys.
KYnge Rycharde wepte wt his eyen bothe
And syth sayd he thus forsothe
Syr bysshop I beseche you praye for vs
That vs myght sende swete Ihesus
His fone all for to dystroye
That they no more vs anoye
Thus Rycharde toke loue & keped his stede
And prycked out that felowrede
He rode aboute the close dyche
Towarde Acrys sykerlyche
Tyll he came co the hospytale
Of saynt Iohan as I tell by tale
There he let pytche his pauylyon
And let arere vp his matgryffon
That was a tree castell fyne
To gyue assawte to many a sarasyne
That he myght in to Acrys sene
He had .xiii. shyppes full of bene
Whan the castell was framed well
He lette therin a mangenell
He cōmaunded his men blyue
To fetche vp been hyue
And byd taberrars & trompettes blowe
To sawte the cyte on a throwe
Kynge Rycharde in Acyrs cyte
Let cast the hyues grete plente
The wheder was hote in somer tyde
The beest brake out on euery syde
They were agreued full of grame
And dyde the sarasynes moche shame
For they stynged them in the vysage
That they began for to rage
And hydde them in a depe sellere
For they durste not come them nere
They sawe kynge Rycharde was full fell
Whan his flyen bytte so well
Another vp Rycharde gan set
That was cleped Robynet
A stronge gynne for the nones
That cast in to Acrys grete stones
The kynge Rycharde the conquerour
Cleped to hym anone his mynour
And them mynde in to the toure
That is cleped mawndytcoloure
He sware his othe by his crowne
But it were brought downe
By none the vttermest wall
He sholde be hewen in peces small
The mynours myned faste
And gonners bente and stones caste
The syrasynes began to arme them all
And ranne in haast vnto the wall
In whyte shetes they gan them wrythen
For bytynge of kynge Rychardes flyen
They sayd this man doth vs grete payne
For he doth bothe throwe and mayne
We sawe neuer kynge thus begynne
It is grete doute leste he vs wynne
Kynge Rycharde stode in his matgryffowne
And sawe there dedes in the towne
Whederwarde the sarasynes drewe
And arowes englysshe to them slewe
Out of arblastes arowes smerte
Thorugh lunge leuer arme & herte
The frensshe men with grete noblay
Helped to myne full well that daye
The vttermost wall that daye was downe cast
And many sarasynes slayue at last
That daye Rycharde so well spedde thore
That he was holden for a conquerore
For better he spedde that daye or none
Than all the other in seuen yere had done
The sarasynes myght not endoure
They fledde in to that hye toure
They lyght torches aboute the wall
Men myght se it ouer all
The torches caste grete lyght
That betokened a newe fyght
That was come fro Englonde
There thorugh they myght not stonde
But yf Salandyn the sowdan
Came to them with men anone
Salandyn was ten myle then
And sawe the torches lyght bren
He let gader his folke togyder
As thycke as snowe falleth in wynter
They assembled vpon a playne
Besyde Acrys vpon a mountayne
Syxty thousande men I fynde
Cockes of heye he made them bynde
To go before hastelyche
To fyll the crysten dyche
To rescowe Acrys they haue rede
And to do the crysten men to dede
After came barons and knyghtes
Stronge in armes stoute in fyghtes
By order they came in theyr manere
Of rede sendell was theyr banere
With thre gryffons depaynted well
And of asure a fayre bendell
Soone after there came as many mo
Barons rydynge and knyghtes also
Theyr gomfanon and theyr pensell
Was wrought of good sendell
As he faught with a lyon
And in surrey with a dragon
The fyrst were rede and grene
Than came the thyrde by dene
With syxty thousande knyghtes
In ynde I armed to all ryghtes
After came whyte as ony snowe
Fyfty thousande on a rowe
There amonge was Salandyn
And his neuewe myrry molendyn
Theyr baners whyte without fable
With thre sarasynes hedes of sable
That were shapen noble and large
Of balyn bothe shelde and targe
No man coude tell the route
They beset the crysten aboute
The fore men cast theyr cothes of heye
To make the hors men redy weye
And fylled the dyche full vpryght
That all the hoost well entred myght
The sarasynes had entred nye
But god almyghty therto sye
The crye arose thorugh the crysten hoost
Soyes seygnyours for the holy goost
But we haue the better socoure
We be forlorne by saynt sauyoure
There ye myght se many a wyght man
That quyckly to his armure ran
And wente anone in to the dyche
And defended it hastelyche
There was many a gentyll hewed
Quykly from the body take the hewed
Sheldes fell clouen a two
And many a stede stycked also
Many a knyght lost his harnes
And many a stede drewe theyr tharnes
And many a doughty man saunce fayle
Was slayne in that batayle
But Rycharde our kynge was seke tho
All crystendome to moche wo
He myght not his body stere
Though his pauylyon had ben in fyre
Therfore the kynge of fraunce made a crye
Amonge the crysten company
That they ne sholde for dethes doute
Not passe theyr close dyche aboute
But holde them all within
That the sarasynes sholde them not wyn
And tho that were in I come
Of sarasynes they were I nome
And hastely done to dede
For them yede no raunson to mede
Whyle kynge Rycharde so syke lay
The reason I you tell may
For the trauayll of these
And stronge ayre of that countre
And for vnkynde stynke and hete
And mete and drynke was not swete
To his body that he there fonde
As it was in englonde
Kynge Rycharde his men bad seche
For some wyse clerke and certayne leche
Crysten or elles sarasyne
For to loke his bryne
And eueryche sayd his aduyse
But there was none of them wyse
That myght his sorowe sese
Or of his payne hym relese
Sory was the folke englysshe
For theyr lorde laye in grete anguysshe
For kynge Rycharde laye so sore syke
All aboute they gan seke
On knees prayed the crysten hoost
To the fader and sone and holy goost
Nyght and daye with good entent
That Rycharde myght haue amendement
Thorugh the byddynge of our lady dere
Her blessyd sone herde her prayere
Thorugh his grace and vertue
He tourned out of his ague
To mete had he no sauour
To wyne ne water ne to no lycour
But after porke he was a longed
Though all his men sholde be honged
They ne myght in that countree
Neyther for golde nor for fee
No porke fynde take ne gete
That kynge Rycharde myght ete
A noble knyght was with our kynge
Whan he wyst of that tydynge
That Rychardes maners were syche
To the stewarde he sayd pryuelyche
Our lorde lyeth sore seke I wys
After porke he alonged is
And ye ne may none fynde to sell
No man be so hardy to tell
And yf he do he may dye
Ye must as I you saye
That he knowe not of that
Take a sarasyne yonge and fat
And in haste that deed be slawe
And his heed of hym be fawe
And soben full hastely
With good pouder and spycery
And with good saffron of good colour
Whan kynge Rycharde feleth the sauour
Out of the ague yf he be wente
He shall haue therto good talente
Whan he hath therof a taste
And eten a good repaste
And supped of the brothe a sope
And slepe therafter and swete a drope
Thorugh goddes helpe and my counsayle
Soone he shall be hole without fayle
The sothe to saye at wordes fewe
Slayne and soden was that shrewe
Before Rycharde it was brought
Quod his folke we haue porke sought
Aryse and suppe of the brothe sote
Thorugh goddes myght it shall be bote
Before the kynge kerued a knyght
He ete faster than he kerue myght
Kynge Rycharde knewe the fiesshe fro ye bones
And dranke ryght well after for the nones
And whan he had eten I nowe
He laye styll and drewe in his arme
His chamberlayne couered hym warme
He laye and slepte and swette a stounde
Soone he became hole and sounde
Whan he awoke he arose
And romed aboute in the close
And all the folke hym shewed
Glad was bothe lerned and lewed
And thanked Ihesu and Mary
That he was out of his malady
The sarasynes spedde with all theyr myght
The dyche to wynne with all theyr myght
The barbycanes they felde downe
And had nygh entred and in I come
Whan kynge Rycharde that tydynges herde
As a wdde man tho he sterre ferde
And he armed hym in his armour
For loue of cryst our sauyour
To fyght I haue grete delyte
With houndes that wylleth vs despyte
Now I me fele hole and lyght
This daye shall I preue my myght
Yf I am stronge as I was before
And yf I can dele strokes grete store
All that I mete I shall fele
Suche a dose I shall them dele
That for the loue of theyr mahon
They shall haue theyr waryson
He was armed to all ryghtes
With hym his fote men squyers & knyghtes
And the crysten all by dene
Wonder it was that hoost to sene
The sothe to saye and not to lye
Of sarasynes were twyes so manye
Before wente his templers
His gascoynes and his ospytalers
Our kynge amonge the sarasynes rode
To some he gaue full grete lode
A kynge he hyt aboue the shelde
That helme & heed flowe in the felde
Another he hath a stroke I raught
All his harneys halpe hym naught
To the sadyll he clefte the ferth
All that he smote it wente to erth
Blythe was the crysten fela wrede
Of kynge Rycharde and of his dede
For none armure withstode his axe
No more than a knyfe doth the waxe
Whan the sowdan sawe them so stronge
He sayd the deuyll was them amonge
For downe ryght there he slewe
With all his hoost he hym withdrewe
And fledde with all his baronage
In to towne men call it cage
And certes all the rerewarde
Were slayne by kynge Rycharde
The sarasynes that in Acrys ware
Were anoyed and full of care
Whan they sawe the sowdan flee
And kynge Rycharde downe ryght slee
Thus all daye tyll it was nyght
They and the crysten kepte fyght
At euen whan the sonne was set
Euery man drewe to his reset
The crysten bothe poore and ryche
Wente within theyr close dyche
To reste them for they were wery
And kynge Rycharde let make a crye
Trusty folke that myght the pales kepe
Whyle that other lye and slepe
The sarasynes that were withoute
Of kynge Rycharde they had grete doute
For he had the pryse I wonne
Awaye they rode and swythe ronne
That myght flee and them hyde
There they durste not abyde
Of the space of ten englysshe myle
Whan Rycharde had rested a whyle
A knyght his harneys gan vnlace
Hym to comforte and to solace
Hym was brought a soppe in wyne
The heed of the wylde swyne
He sayd fayne I wolde I had
For I am feble feynt and mad
Of myn euyll I am fere
Therwith serue me at my soupere
Quod the coke the heed I ne haue
Than sayd Rycharde so god me saue
But I se the heed of the swyne
Forsoth thou shalte soone lese thyne
The coke sawe none other myght be
He fet the heed and let hym se
He fell on knees and made a crye
Lo the heed here Rycharde mercy
The blacke vysage whan Rycharde sawe
His blacke berde his tethe whyte as snawe
He began to laugh as he were wood
What is sarasynes flesshe so good
And neuer before I it wyste
By goddes deth and his vpryste
Shall we neuer dye for defaute
Whyle we may in assawte
Slee sarasynes and the flesshe take
Wesshe sethe them and bake
Gnawe the flesshe fro the bones
Now I haue assayed them ones
For honger or we be to woo
I and my folke shall ete moo
On the morowe without fayle
The cyte he began to assayle
The sarasynes myght not endoure
They fledde in to the hye toure
And cryed trews and plement
To kynge Rycharde that was so gent
And also to the kynge of fraunce
And bad mercy without dystaunce
Anone stode vp syr latemere
And cryed lowde with voyce clere
He sayd here good lordynges
For I you brynge good tydynges
That syr Salandyn sente by me
He wolde that Acrys yelded be
And Iherusalem in to your honde
And surrey all the londe
To flomiordan the water clere
For two thousande besauntes by yere
And yf ye wyll not so nore
Ye shall haue peas for euermore
So that ye make the kynge of surrye
Markys feraunt of grete maystrye
For he is the strongest man Iwys
Of crystendome or of hethenys
Than answered kynge Rycharde
Thou lyeth he sayd false cowarde
In euery gaderynge a prese
Markys is a false traytour and a lese
He hath whyted Salandynes honde
To be kynge of surrey londe
And by the kynge in trynyte
That traytour shall it neuer be
He was crysten by my faders dayes
And syth he hath renyed his layes
And is become a sarasyne
God gyue hym well euyll pyne
He is worse than an hounde
He robbed syxty thousande pounde
Out of the holy hospytallers honde
That my fader sente in to this londe
That men cleped kynge Harry
Crysten men to gouerne by
I byd hym hye out of this hoost
For I swere by the holy goost
And by Mary that bare Ihesus
Fynd: I that traytour amonge vs
Other by nyght or by daye
With horse he shall be drawe I saye
Than answered the kynge of fraunce
To kynge Rycharde without dystaunce
O suffre syr beus amys
Thou doost wronge by saynt denys
That thou thretenest that markys
That neuer dyde the amys
Yf he haue done ony thynge yll
He shall amende it at thy wyll
I am his borowe so here my gloue
Receyue it for my loue
Nay quod Rycharde by god my lorde
I shall neuer with hym accorde
Had neuer ben lost Acrys towne
Ne had ben thorugh his tresowne
He yelde agayne my faders tresone
And Iherusalem with grete honour
And than my wrathe I hym forgyue
And neuer elles whyle I lyue
The kynge of fraunce was wo therfore
And he ne durst speke no more
For euer he douted dentes harde
To vnderfonge of kynge Rycharde
Whan the latemere herde this
That kynge myght not be syr markys
He sayd here good lordynges
For I haue brought you other tydynges
That moche more is to your wyll
Yf ye wyll let our people passe styll
With lyfe and lymbe honde and arme
Without dente and without harme
We shall yelde you the towne
And the holy crosse with grete renowne
And syxty thousande prysoners therto
And an hondred thousande besauntes & mo
And haue ye shall also therin
Ryche tresour and moche wyne
Helmes hawberkes syxty thousande & mo
And other ryches ye may fynde also
Where I nowe and other tresore
For your hoost seuen yere and more
And yf that ye wyll not th [...]s fonge
We may holde you out longe
And euer to fynde one of our
For to slee ten of your
For we haue without fable
Syxty thousande men defensable
And we beseche you for the loue of god
That ye wyll take your bode
That ye the tresour more and lasse
And let vs quykly awaye passe
Than answered kynge Rycharde
In my halfe I graunte that forwarde
With that ye wyll vs quykly in late
It shall be done they sayd by yate
They let hym in soone anone
And kynge Rycharde toke them euerychone
And to pryson put them thore
yonge and olde lesse and more
There myght none out of Acrys towne
Tyll payed was that raunsowne
And the holy crosse therwith
Or they must haue peas and gryth
There was founde many hordes
That was departed amonge lordes
Stryfe there was at theyr comynge
But the best tresour had our kynge
The crysten prysoners of Acrys towne
Kynge Rycharde gaue clothe grete foysowne
Mete and drynke and armes bryght
And made them full fresshe in fyght
And toke them to his partyse
To auenge god of his enemyse
Kynge Rycharde in Acrys had nome
Of sarasynes that theder were come
That were goddes enemyse
Hardy knyghtes of grete pryse
Of hethenes of grete lordynges
Dukes prynces sones of kynges
And admyralles and many a noble man
Theyr names I ne tell can
In pryson they lay bounde faste
To the sowdan they sente in haste
And sayd we bere so many chaynes
And these men done vs so many paynes
We may neyther syt nor lye
But ye vs out of pryson bye
And with raunsom helpe and borowe
We shall dye or the thyrde morowe
The ryche sowdan was wo therfor
Knyghtes prynces well two score
Many an admyrall and many a lorde
Sayd we rede that ye make accorde
With kynge Rycharde that is stronge
To delyuer our chyldren out of wronge
That they ne be hanged ne drawe
Of tresour Rycharde wyll be full fawe
That our chyldren may come home all
Charge mewles horses by your counsall
Of bryght golde and of bawdkyne
For our eyres to make fyne
Men saye englysshe men loue gyftes
Of golde well thyrty mennes lyftes
Were layde on mewles and on rabyte
Thyrty erles clothed in samyte
That were well auysed of tonge
To kynge Rycharde that tresour bronge
All to Acrys they it brought
On knees of grace they besought
Our sowdan sendeth the this tresore
And wyll be thy frende euer more
For the prysoners that thou hast nyme
And let them go with lyfe and lyme
Out of thy pryson thou them lete
That no man slee them ne bete
For all they ben doughty vassalles
Kynges sones and admyralles
The best doynge at this tyme
That now ben in all sarasyne
And our hoost moost strusteth to
And Salandyn loueth them also
Not for a thousande pounde of golde
None of them he lese wolde
Kynge Rycharde spake wordes mylde
That golde to take cryste me shylde
Amonge you parte euery dele I charge
For I brought in shyppes and in barge
More golde and syluer with me
Than your lorde and suche thre
Of his trelour I haue no nede
But for my loue I you bede
To mete with me that ye dwell
And afterwarde I shall you tell
Thorugh counseyll I shall gyue answere
What worde ye shall to your lorde bere
They graunted hym with good wyll
Kynge Rycharde cleped his marysshall styll
And toke hym to counseyll alone
I shall the tell what thou shalte done
Pryuely go vnto the prysowne
Take the sarasynes of grete renowne
And tho that ben of rychest kyn
Pryuely slee them therin
And or the hedes be of smyten
Loke euery name be wryten
Vpon a score of parchemyn
Than bere the hedes to the kechyn
In to a caudron let them be caste
And byd the coke sethe them faste
And loke that he the here of stryppe
Of heed and berde and of lyppe
Whan we be set and sholde ete
Loke that ye not forgete
Serue them in this maner
To lye euery heed in a platter
And brynge them forth in your honde
The vysage vpwarde the tethe greuonde
And loke they be no thynge rawe
His name fastened aboute the brawe
What he hyght and of what kyn I bore
And an hote heed brynge me before
As I were well apayed withall
Faste therof ete I shall
As it were of tender chyke
For to se how the sarasynes it lyke
The marysshall so sayth our geste
Anone dyde kynge Rychardes heste
Anone the waytes to mete blewe
The messengers no thynge knewe
Of Rychardes lawe ne of his custome
Quod he frendes ye be welcome
To them he was well compenable
They were set at hye table
Salte was set but no brede
Neyther wyne whyte nor rede
The sarasynes gan faste stare
And thought how shall we fare
Kynge Rycharde was set on the dese
With dukes erles proude in prese
Fro kechyn came the fyrste course
With trumppettes pypes and tabours
The stewarde to well good yeme
To serue kynge Rycharde well to queme
Leste after mete tyde ony harme
A sarasynes heed anone all warme
He brought to kynge Rycharde not cleuede
The name I wryten on the forhede
Alwaye an heed bytwene two
The messengers were serued tho
In the foreheed wryten the name
Therof they had all grame
But whan the names they seen
The teres ran out of theyr eyen
Whan they the letters radde
For to be slayne they were adradde
Kynge Rycharde his eyen to them drewe
And sawe how they chaunged hewe
For theyr frendes they syghed sore
That they had lost for euermore
Of theyr kynne and blode they were
Tho that myght euyll forbere
Made well sory chere
And rewed the tyme that they came there
Kynge Rycharde behelde them well
How that they ete no morcell
The knyght that sholde Rycharde serue
With a knyfe he gan the heed carue
Kynge Rycharde ete with herte good
The sarasynes wende that he were wood
Eucryche sate styll and plucked other
And sayd this is the deuylles brother
That sleeth our men and thus eteth
But kynge Rycharde not forgeteth
Aboute hym he loked yerne
With wrothe semblaunt and with sterne
The messengers tho he badde
For my loue be you gladde
And loke ye be well at ease set
Why kerue ye not of your mete
And ete faste as I do
Tell me why ye loure so
The messengers sore quoke
They ne durst speke ne loke
In to the erthe they wolde haue cropen
For to haue ben slayne they hopen
They answered hym neuer a worde
Quod Rycharde bere fro the borde
The mete that ye before them set
And other mete ye them fet
Men brought brede without boost
Venyson cranes and roost
Pyment clare and drynke of the best
Kynge Rycharde bad be mery his gest
There was none of them that ete lyste
Kynge Rycharde theyr thought well wyste
And sayd frendes be not squemous
This is the maner of my hous
To be serued fyrst god it wote
With a sarasynes heed all hote
But your maner not I knewe
As I am a kynge crysten and trewe
But ye shall be in certayne
All safe to wende home agayne
For I ne wolde for no thynge
That worde of me sholde sprynge
That I were so vylayne of maners
For to mysdo messengers
Tho they had eten and cloth folde
Kynge Rycharde gan them to beholde
On knees they asked leue to gone
That on message theder come
I dare well saye by saynt Iohn̄
They had leuer haue ben at home
With wyfe chylde and theyr kynde
Than all the good that was in ynde
Kynge Rycharde spake to an olde man
Wende home and tell thy sowdan
His malyncoly that he abbate
And also saye ye come to late
To slowly was the message gessed
Or that ye came the flesshe was dressed
That men sholde therwith serue me
Thus at none and all my meyne
And saye hym it shall not auayle
Ayenst vs to gyue batayle
Brede wyne flesshe fysshe and kunger
We wyll neuer dye for hunger
Whyle that we may wende to fyght
And slee the sarasynes downe ryght
Wasshe the flesshe sethe and brethyn
With one sarasyne I may well fedyn
Well an nyne or an ten
Of my good englysshe men
Kynge Rycharde sayd I you wraunt
There is no flesshe so nouryssaunt
To none englysshe crysten man
Partryche heron fesaunt neswan
Cowe ne oxe shepe ne swyne
Than is the slesshe of a sarasyne
For they ben bothe fat and tender
And my men lene and sclender
But whyle that ony sarasynes be
Alyue in this countree
For mete wyll we not care
Aboute shall we faste fare
And euery daye we wyll ete
As many as we may gete
In to Englonde wyll we not gone
Tyll they be eten euerychone
The messengers home dyde tourne
Before the sowdan they dyde mourne
The elder knyght tolde the sowdan
That kynge Rycharde was a noble man
And sayd lorde I the warne
In the worlde is none so sterne
On knees we tolde hym our tale
But it vs ne auayled no gale
Of our golde wolde he none
He sware he had better wone
Of ryche tresour than hast thou
To vs sayd I gyue it you
Tresour golde cloth of pall
Parte it amonge you all
To mete badde vs abyde
We were set at a borde hym besyde
That stode Rychardes table nygh
But none of vs before hym sygh
No brede whyte ne soure
But salte and none other lycoure
What mese fyrst before hym came
Well I behelde the seruyse than
A knyght brought fro the kechyn
An heed soden of a sarasyn
Without here in a platter brode
His name before his heed stode
Was wryten aboute his eyen
Me nedeth not for to lyen
What heed it was my felawe dyde aske
It was the sowdan sone of damaske
And lorde as we sete in fere
We were I serued in manere
Euer an heed bytwene twaye
Forsothe than wende we to dye
There came bytwene my felowe & me
The kynges sone of rube
His of peres that sate me by
The thyrde was of samary
The fourth was of aufryke
For sorowe tho gan we syke
Our hertes tho brake nye asonder
Lorde yet mayst thou here mo wonder
Before kynge Rycharde a knyght in haste
Carued hym of the heed and he ete faste
With his tethe he grynded flesshe harde
And as a wood man tho he farde
With his eyen stepe and grym
He spake and we behelde hym
He sayd we sholde go safe and quyte
For no man shall do you dyspyte
He the sendeth redy answere
Or that we myght come there
Men of our kynde were I slawe
And gyneth not though thou ware drawe
And hyde thy store frome his hoost
For he sayth his men make theyr boost
That he ne shall let one a lyue
In all his londe chylde ne wyue
But slee all that he may fynde
Sethe the flesshe & with tethe grynde
Hunger shall them none ayle
In to englonde wyll they not sayle
Tyll they haue made playne warke
His clothes of golde and his sarke
Salandyn rent tho with Ire
Kynges prynces and many a syre
Sayd alas that they were borne
For now we be all forlorne
For they were wyght men and stronge
Well alwaye we lyue to longe
Alas that we thus be begone
Now that Rycharde hath Acrys wonne
He hath ment yf he go forth
To wynne eest west south and north
And ete our chyldren and vs
Lorde Salandyn what redest thou vs
Sende to hym and beseche them efte
For them that ben on lyue lefte
To let them go yf that he wolde
Gyue hym suche for he wyll no golde
Ryche medes for the nones
Of good perles and precyous stones
Charged full many a cofer
Yf that he wyll than hym profer
For to forsake Ihesu and Mary
Thou whyte hym gyue londe a grete party
To be in peas and let be warre
Syth he is come so farre
Thou wylte not that he his trauayll lese
Graunte hym selfe to come and chese
Tho londes that hym lyketh beste
And make hym sowdan after heste
After thy selfe and rycheste kynge
Conferme it hym and his of prynge
And yf it be that he wyll so
Swythe in peas he come the to
And thou shalte forgyue hym thy malatent
Though he haue thy folke shent
And as thy broder thou loue and kyse
In warre to be bolde and wyse
Of all the worlde to wynne the pryse
And so shall ye leue and be frendes
With Ioye to your lyues endes
Salandyn by his sergeauntes
Sente kynge Rycharde his presauntes
And be sought hym for shame
That he hath to estage tame
And yf he wolde his god forsake
And mahowne to his lorde take
Of surrey he wyll make the kynge
And of egypte that ryche thynge
Of darres and of babyloyne
Of arres and of susoyne
Of aufryke and of vogye
Of all the londes of alyxsaundrye
Of grece and eke of tyre
And of many an other empyre
And make he wyll the sowdan anone
Of all ynde to prester Iohan
Kynge Rycharde answered the messengers
Fye on you foule losengers
You and Salandyn your lorde
The deuyll you hange with a corde
Go swythe and saye Salandyne
That he make to morowe a fyne
For all his dogges in hostage
Or they shall dye on euyll rage
And yf I may haue a fewe yere
Of all the londes that ye reken here
I shall not leue halfe a fote
So god do my foule bote
I wyll not leue my lordes lawe
Of all the londes vnder heuen ahawe
And but I haue the rode to morowe
His men shall dye with sorowe
They answered at the forme
They wyste not where it was become
Quod kynge Rycharde syth it is so
I wote well what I haue to do
Your sowdan is not so slye
So queyntly to blere myn eye
He cleped his knyghtes anone
And bad them to Acrys gone
And take of sarasynes syxty thousandes
And knytte behynde them theyr hondes
And lede them out of the cyte
And smyte of theyr hedes without pyte
And saye I shall teche Salandyn
To praye me to lyue on oppolyn
They were brought out of the towne
Saue twenty he helde at raunsowne
They were brought in to a place euen
Than harde Rycharde an aungell of heuen
That sayd seygnyours tues tues
Spare them nought behede all these
Kynge Rycharde herde the aungelles voys [...]
He thanked god and the holy croyse
They were beheded hastelyche
And I caste in to a dyche
Thus kynge Rycharde wan Acrys
God graunte vs all his swete blys
His doughty dedes who wyll here
Lysten now to me with good chere
¶ Yet of an other batayll / and how kynge Rycharde wan it / & also wan the cyte of arsour.
IT was before saynt Iames tyde
Whan the foules began to chyde
Kynge Rycharde wente forth a pace
Towarde the cyte of cayface
Euer forth by the maryne
By the ryuer of chaylyne
Salandyn that herde tell
And came pryckynge after snell
With syxty thousande sarasynes stronge
And thought to do the crysten wronge
He ouertoke the rerewarde
And there began a batayll harde
Hastely swerdes they drewe
And many a crysten they slewe
Vnarmed was the rerewarde
And fledde in haast to kynge Rycharde
Whan kynge Rycharde herde this
That the sarasynes slewe men of his
On fauell of sypres he sate falowe
That was swyfte as ony swalowe
The kynges baner was on felde
The sarasynes theron behelde
Whan they the baner myght see
All they began for to flee
Kynge Rycharde after gan ryde
And they tourned at that tyde
And smote togyder with grete randowne
As the worlde sholde fall downe
Kynge Rycharde before smote
With his axe that bytter bote
He them to hewed and to carfe
Many a sarasyn vnder his honde starfe
And many one I tell you syker
Hente theyr dethe in that beker
Thorugh a carte of Hoberte ganter
That was set in the myre
The carter lost his honde ryght
There was slayne many a knyght
For that harneys kepte men fourty
And therof was slayne thyrty
For Salandynes sones theder came
And the harneys them bename
Kynge Rycharde hyed hym thederwarde
To rescowe his rerewarde
Yet almoost he came to late
And that was sene therate
In honde he helde his axe good
Many a sarasyn he let blode
There was none armure verament
That mygh withstonde his dente
And the longe spaye that tyde
Faught ryght well on euery syde
That downe it wente all that he smot [...]
With his swerde that bytter bote
And the batayll was doutous
And to our men full peryllous
For the hete was so stronge
And the dust rose them amonge
And haue set the crysten honde
That they fell deed on the sonde
Mo dyed for here at shorte wordes
Than for dente of spere and swerdes
Kynge Rycharde was almoost arteynt
And in the pouder well nygh adreynt
Vpon his knees he gan downe fall
Helpe of Ihesu he gan for to call
For loue of his moder marye
And as I fynde in his storye
He sawe come saynt George the knyght
Vpon a stede was good and lyght
In armes that were whyte as floure
With a crosse of reed coloure
All that he mette in that stounde
Hors and man he felde to grounde
Anone the wynde gan wexe lyght
And sterne strokes he gan dyght
Whan kynge Rycharde sawe that syght
In his herte he wexed good and lyght
And egerly as a lyon without fayle
The sarasynes he began to assayle
And than braundys the lumbarde
Roberte turnam and kynge Rycharde
All tho that ayenst them gan dryue
Soone they berefte them theyr lyue
The sarasynes fledde to reseth
To the mount of Nazareth
They were so hyed at the spore
That moche of theyr folke they lore
And kynge Rycharde wente a pace
Vnto the cyte of cayface
And thanked the kynge of glorye
Of that grace and of that vyctorye
And all they made grete solace
For the wynnynge of cayface
Now as this was a gracyous dede
Lysten now how I shall you rede
Soone on the morowe he let crye
That all his hoost sholde hye
Towarde the cyte of palestyne
Euer forth by the maryne
Theyr pauylyons gan they tell
And to longe there dyde they dwell
For to abyde theyr vytayle
That came by water saunce fayle
Certes that was the worste dwellynge
That euer dwelled Rycharde our kynge
Therwhyles the sowdan Salandyne
Sente after many a sarasyne
To bete downe the castell
That was cleped meruell
And the castell calafyn
That was made of good engyn
Of sezary they felde the wall
And toure of arsoure all
Iaffe castell they bette a downe
And the good castell torowne
Castell pylgrym they felde there
And the good castell laffere
The castell of saynt George derayne
They bette downe and made all playne
The walles they felde of Iherusalem
And eke the walles of Bedlem
Maydens castell they let stonde
And the castell of aukes londe
By tho costes no more they let
For Rycharde sholde haue no reset
And whan they had thus I do
Kynge Rycharde they sente vnto
And sayd they wolde the nexte morowe
Mete hym in the felde with sorowe
The sowdan sayd he wolde to hym redy
Yf he durste hym abyde
Vnder the forest of arsoure
He wolde assayle his valoure
Kynge Rycharde made it not tough
Of that tydynges full loude he lough
Kynge Rycharde let crye in his hoost
In the name of the holy goost
That they sholde with vygoure
Reste that nyght in arsoure
And dyght them all redy than
On the morowe to fyght with the sowdan
On saynt Maryes euen the natyuyte
Thus same batayll sholde be
There was many an hethen man
That with the Salandyn came than
Ofynde of perse of babyloyne
Of araby and of susoyne
Of aufryke and of voyge
Of all the londe of alysaundre
Of grete grece and of tyre
Of many an other ryche empyre
Of mo londes than ony man can tell
Saue he that made bothe heuen and hell
That nyght was Rycharde before arsoure
Vnder the forest of lysoure
With hym there were of Englonde
Wyght knyghtes doughty of honde
Moche frensshe folke and templers
Gascoynes and eke hospytalers
Of pronaunce a fayre company
Of poyle and of lumbardy
Of gene of sysyle and of costan
There was many a doughty man
Of estryche and of almayne
That well coude fyght in a playne
Of crysten knyghtes that were hende
The fayres hoost to the worldes ende
And ye shall here as it is wryten
How that the batayll was I smyten
Salandyn came by a mountayne
And ouerspradde hyll and playne
Syxty thousande sayd the spye
Came in the fyrste company
With longe speres and hye stedes
Of golde and syluer was theyr wedes
Fyfty thousande came afterwarde
Of sarasynes stoute and harde
With many a pensell and sylklatowne
And of sendell bryght and browne
After came fyue and fyfty thousonde
With Salandyn on stedes rounde
They came armed from fote to hede
In full good harnes as I rede
Thre thousande turkoys came at the last
With bowe turkeys and arblast
A thousande tabourers and mo
All at ones they smote tho
That all the erth quaked vnder
There men myght se grete wonder
Now speke we of Recharde our kynge
How he came with his gynnes to batayllynge
He was armed in spentes of stele
And sate vpon his good stede fauele
Well hym loued baron and knyght
For he coude well ordayne a fyght
The fyrst batayle to the templers
He gaue oute the hospytalers
And he bad them go out in goddes name
The deuyll to shenshyp and to shame
Iakes denys and Iohn̄ denes
Before wente in that pres
In the worlde there ne were
Better knyghtes than they were
Forth they prycked full hardyly
With knyghtes thousandes twenty
And they sarasynes soone they mette
With grymly launces they them grette
Many a sarasyne had theyr fyn
That wente to theyr god appolyn
And tho that were slayne of our
Wente to Ihesu cryst our sauyour
Iakes denys was a good knyght
To slee the sarasynes he dyde his myght
He prycked before his folke to rathe
With his two sones that was skathe
Thre thousande turkes come with boost
Bytwene Iakes and his hoost
There myght no knyght come hym to
For no thynge that they myght do
Neyther he myght not withdrawe
For the people of the hethen lawe
It was scathe by Ihesu cryste
That kynge Rycharde therof not wyste
For he was yet all behynde
For to ordeyne twenty thousande
Tho sholde the duke of burgoyne
Lede and the erle of coloyne
Thus they came and dyde theyr deuere
Ayenst the hethen pantenere
And Iakes and his sones two
Almoost were slayne tho
They layde on euery syde ryght
And slewe the sarasynes with myght
Twenty Iakes slewe & eyther of his sones ten
Of the crewell hethen men
Ten syth his hors was felde
And euer he couered hym with his shelde
He had no helpe of his templers
Nor of none of his hospytalers
Neuertheles doughtely he faught
The sarasynes yet felde hym naught
Well he layde on with sworde
And euer he cryed Ihesu lorde
I shall dye for thy loue
Receyue my soule to heuen aboue
The sarasyne layde on with theyr mase
And all to frusshed hym in the face
Hym and his two sones bothe
Kynge Rycharde therfore was wrothe
But whan kynge Rycharde herde this
That deed was Iakes denys
Alas he sayd this is wronge
That I haue byd behynde so longe
He smote fauell with spores of golde
Come after hym who so wolde
A launce in his honde he helde
Therwith he smote an admyrall in the shelde
The dente smote thorugh the hethen harte
I vnderstande he gan to smarte
Kynge Rycharde his honde withdrewe
And with his launce a kynge he slewe
And so he dyde an admyrayle
And fyue dukes without fayle
All that he raught with his launce selue
Kynge Rycharde therwith slewe kynges twelue
The .xiii. knyght vnto the chynne he kerfe
The launce brake the sarasyne sterfe
His axe frome the arson he drewe
And many a sarasyne therwith he slewe
He smote some on the shulder bone
And carued them to the sadell anone
And some he pared the crowne
That they ne helped mahowne
There was no armure made with honde
That myght Rychardes axe withstonde
Of my tale be not awondred
The frensshe sayd he slewe an hondred
Wherof is made this englysshe sawe
Or he rested hym ony thrawe
Hym folowed many an englysshe knyght
That egerly helped hym to fyght
And layde on as they were wode
Tyll valeys ranne all on blode
The sarasynes sayd in theyr pauylyons
That the crysten fared as lyons
And that Rycharde with theyr folke fares
As hende grehoundes do with hares
Vpon theyr stedes tho they lepte
Swardes and speres to them they grepte
Many a man there slee other
And many a sarasyne his brother
And many of the hethen houndes
With theyr tethe gnewe the groundes
And by the blode vpon the gras
Men myght se where Rycharde was
Brayne and blode he shedde I nowe
Many an hors his guttes drowe
There was many an emty sadell
It bewepte the chylde in the cradell
He thought to rescowe Iakes denayne
But or he came he was slayne
For he and his sones anone
Were all to frusshe flesshe and bone
Yet had he them to his pauylyowne
In despyte of theyr god mahowne
Tho fought Rycharde on euery syde
The sarasynes durst hym not abyde
Syxty thousande and seuen score
At ones Rycharde droue hym before
Vp ayenst an hye clyue
They fledde as dere were dryue
And for the drede of kynge Rycharde
Of the clefe they fell downe warde
And all to brake hors and man
That neuer came to lyue ayan
That sawe the sowdan Salandyne
He was syker his lyfe to tyne
He lefte his pauylyon and his tent
And fledde awaye verament
Than kynge Rycharde sawe hym fleande
He sewed after [...]aste slyngande
To slee the sowdan he had thought
And for he myght ouertake hym nought
And of a foteman a bowe he toke
And drewe it vp to the hoke
And shotte it to the sowdan anone
And smote hym thorugh the shulder bone
Thus the sowdan with doloure
Fledde frome the batayll of arsure
Syxty thousande there were slawe
Sarasynes of the hethen lawe
And of crysten but ten score
Blessyd be Ihesu cryste therfore
Kynge Rycharde toke his pauylyons
Of sendell and of sylke latons
They were shapen with caruelles
Of golde and syluer were theyr penselle [...]
Many was the noble Ieste
Was theron paynted of wylde beste
Tygres dragons lyons and lybarde
And this wonne good kynge Rycharde
Bounde in cofers and grete males
He gate therwith out tales
Florynes besauntes and whyte torneys
Sylke samyte and eke sarsyneys
Of tresour they had so moche wonne
That they ne wyste where it to done
Kynge Rycharde with grete honour
Wente to the cyte of arsoure
And rested hym there all nyght
And thanke Ihesu crystes myght
On the morowe kynge Rycharde arose
His dedes were ryche and his lose
Of naples he cleped syr ganter
That was his mayster hospytaler
And bad hym take with hym knyghtes
Stoute in armes stronge in fyghtes
And go ye the flede to
There the batayll had ben do
And lede Iakes the barowne
In to Iherusalem towne
And bury hym in the erth rychely
For he was a man full worthy
Anone it was done without cheste
Hastely kynge Rychardes heste
And thus kynge Rycharde wan arsour
God gyue his soule grete honour
Fro thens he wente ryght sone
Towarde the cyte of babylone
¶ How kynge Rycharde asseyged the cyte of babyloyne and how he wan it / & of two deuylles / that one in lykenes of mare / & that other in lykenes of a colte / wherof ye sowd an sente the colte to kȳge Rycharde.
THe chefe sowdan of hethenys
To babyloyne he was flowen Iwys
After his counseyll he sente that tyme
That theder came many a paynym
An hondred thousande that day was telde
Of spores of golde in the felde
Without all that other putayle
That theder came without fayle
For so he sayd that was the spye
That tolde folke on bothe partye
Foure hondred thousande of hethen men
To batayll had the sowden
Now herken and it be your wyll
The wordes that I shall saye you tyll
There men loueth trouth and ryght
Euer god sendeth strength and myght
That was there full well sene
Of our crysten men I wene
There was no mo in boke I founde
In all but foure score thousande
Kynge Rycharde .xxx. thousande ladde
For Phelyp of fraunce & his men were badd
Fyfty thousande ledde he
By the one syde of that cyte
To kepe with the sarasynes stoute
Was none so bolde that durst come out
For Rycharde on that other syde laye
On batayll redy euery daye
With spryngelles and with mangenelles
With many arowes and quarelles
Faste they slange harde stones
Bekerynge with them for the nones
There was no sarasyne so stoute
That ones the wall durst loke out
The cyte was so stronge within
That no man myght to them wyn
The stronge gynnes for the nones
To breke the walles with the stones
Theyr gates and theyr barbycan
And be ye sure many a hethen man
Made them counter harde and stronge
And many a man was slayne amonge
Of the crysten was many slayne
But on the frensshe fell the moost payne
For had kynge Phylyp trewe be
All the syege of that cyte
The [...]e ne had scaped no man
He [...]hen kynge ne sowdan
That ne had be slayne downe ryght
For Rycharde euer vpon the nyght
Whan they were gone to theyr reste
With his men he was full preste
And gaue them batayll full smarte
That no man myght haue starte
And slewe them downe grete plente
And wylde fyre they caste in to the cyte
The sarasynes defended them faste
With bowe turkeys and with arblaste
Full harde fyght was them bytwene
So they sayd that dyde it sene
Quarelles and arowes so thycke dyde flye
As doth the rayne that falleth fro the skye
And the wylde fyre the folke gan bren
A counseyll toke the hethen men
To fyght with them vpon the felde
They wolde not the cyte yelde
Vp stode theyr latemere on the wall
And cryed vnto the folke all
And asked trues of Rycharde there
But he wolde not graunt in no manere
And with hym myght he not spede
To take trues for no nede
Naye certes sayd Rycharde than
Tyll I haue slayne the sowdan
And all that ben in that cyte
The latemere tho tourned his eye
To that other syde of the towne
And cryed trues with grete sowne
To the ryche kynge of fraunce
And he graunted with myschaunce
For a porcyon of golde
And elles had the cyte be yolde
And the sarasynes all I slayne
But the sowdan was full fayne
And all his folke on Rycharde fyll
For that other syde was all styll
Rycharde wende Phylyp had fought
And he and his men dyde nought
But made mery all that nyght
And were traytours in that fyght
For he loued no crownes to crake
But to do treason and tresour take
The kynge of fraunce to Rycharde sende
That they myght them no lenger defende
For hunger of hym and his men also
He must breke syege and awaye go
Full wrothe was kynge Rycharde than
And sayd to that cursed false man
For couetyse and for tresoure
He doth hym selfe dyshonoure
That he shall sarasynes respyte gyue
It is harme that suche men lyue
He brake syege and dyde withdrawe
Of tresour and ryches he was fawe
Grete Ioye the sarasynes made amonge
With claryons trumpettes & mery songe
The nexte daye after than
Messengers came fro the sowdan
And grette kynge Rycharde in this manere
And sayd yf thy wyll it were
My lorde the sowdan to the sente
Yf thou wylte graunte in presente
Thou arte stronge of flesshe and bones
And he is doughty for the nones
Thou dost hym grete harme he sayes
And dystroyest all his countrayes
And sleest his men and etest amonge
All that thou doost is wronge
And thou crauest herytage in this londe
But he doth the to vnderstonde
That thou therto haste no ryght
Thou fayest thy god is full of myght
Wylte thou graunte with spere and shelde
To detreyue the ryght in the felde
With helme hauberke and brondes bryght
On stronge stedes good and lyght
Whether ben of more power
Thy god almyghty or Iupyter
And he me sente to saye this
Yf thou wylte haue an hors of his
In all the londes that thou hast gone
Suche ne sawest thou neuer none
Fauell of sypres ne lyarde of prys
Ben not at nede as he is
And yf thou wylet this same daye
He shall be brought the to assaye
Rycharde answered thou sayest well
Suche an hors by saynt Myghell
I wolde haue to ryde vpon
For myn ben wery and forgon
And I shall for my lordes loue
That sytteth on hye in heuen aboue
And his owne hors be good
With a spere to shede his blood
Yf that he wyll I graunte and holde
In that maner that thou hast tolde
As I must to god my soule yelde
I shall mete hym in the felde
Bydde hym sende that hors to me
And I shall assaye what he be
Yf he be trusty without fayle
I kepe none other to me in batayle
The messengers tho home wente
And tolde the sowdan in presente
That Rycharde in ye felde wolde come hym to
The ryche sowdan badde to come hym vnto
A noble clerke that coude well conioure
That was a mayster nygromansoure
He commaunded as I you tell
Thorugh the fendes myght of hell
Two stronge fendes of the ayre
In lykenes of two stedes fayre
Bothe lyke of hewe and here
As men sayd that there were
No man sawe neuer none syche
That one was a mare I lyche
That other a colte a noble stede
Where that he were in ony mede
Were the knyght neuer so bolde
Whan the mare nye wolde
That sholde hym holde ayenst his wyll
But soone he wolde go her tyll
And knele downe and souke his dame
Therwhyle the sowdan with shame
Sholde kynge Rycharde quell
All this an aungell gan hym tell
That to hym came aboute mydnyght
Awake he sayd goddes knyghtes
My lorde doth the to vnderstonde
That the shall come on hors to londe
Fayre it is of body I pyght
To betraye the yf the sowdan myght
On hym to ryde haue thou no drede
For he the helpe shall at nede
Purney the a tree grete and stronge
Though it be fourty fote longe
And trusse it ouerthwarte his mane
All that he meteth shall haue theyr bane
With that tree he shall downe fell
It is a fende as I the tell
Ryde on hym in goddes name
For he may do the no shame
Take a brydell sayd the aungell
And make it fast on his mussell
And be the brydell in his mouth
Ryde eest weste north and south
He shall the serue at thy wyll
Whan the sowdan shall ryde the tyll
Take here a spere heed of stele
He hath none armure wrought so wele
But it be perysshed be thou bolde
Whan the aungell had thus I tolde
In to heuen agayne he wente
On the morowe the hors was to hym sente
Kynge Rycharde of that hors was blythe
He let hym dyght a sadell swythe
Bothe his arsones were of Iren
Bycause they sholde well duren
With a chayne togyder faste
The brydell vpon the heed he caste
As the aungell had hym taught
Two good hokes forgate he naught
In his arson he set before
With waxe he stopped his eres thore
And sayd by the apostelles twelue
Though thou be the deuyll hym selue
Thou shalte me helpe at this nede
Now he that on the rode gan blede
And suffred grymly woundes fyue
And syth he rose from deth to lyue
And after wente to hell
And the fendes myght gan fell
And afterwarde styed in to heuen
God for his names seuen
One god in persones thre
In his name I coniure the
That thou me serue at my wyll
He shoke his heed and stode styll
Kynge Rycharde made hym redy that nyght
On the morowe whan it was lyght
Seuen sowdans with grete route
Of that cyte were sente oute
And bataylled them in theyr araye
Of grete meruayll I wyll you saye
That daye was tolde without lesynge
Of sowdans and of hygh kynges
There were fourty and mo
The leest brought with hym tho
Twenty thousande and ten
Ayenst our good crysten men
And euer was twelue of them
Ayenst one of our crysten men
Well twelue myle a coost
Laye the sarasynes hoost
The grounde myght vnneth be sene
For bryght armure and speres kene
They made sheltron & batayll abyde
Messengers bytwene dyde ryde
To kynge Phelyp & kynge Rycharde
Yf they wolde holde forwarde
That they made the daye before
The sarasynes ben redy lesse & more
Foure hondred thousande there bene
Kynge Rycharde gan loke and sene
Lyke as snowe lyeth on the mountaynes
So were full fylled hylles and playnes
With hawberkes bryght & harneys clere
Of trumpettes and of tabourere
To here the noyse it was grete wonder
As the worlde aboue and vnder
Sholde haue fallen so fared the sowne
Our crysten hoost made them bowne
Kynge Rycharde nothynge them a dradde
To his folke hors and harnes he gradde
He sayd felawes for the rood
Loke ye be of comforte good
For we gete the pryce this daye
Of hethenes all the noblaye
For euermore we haue wonne
But he that made mone and sonne
Bur helpe and gyue vs myght
Beholde how that I shall fyght
With swerde spere and axe of stele
But I this daye mete hym wele
Euer more fro hens forwarde
Holde me for a feynt cowarde
But euery crysten man and page
Haue to nyght to his wage
An heed of a blacke sarasyne
Thorugh goddes helpe and myne
Suche worke I wyll amonge them make
Of tho that I may ouertake
That fro this tyme to domes daye
They shall speke of my paye
Euery crysten man was armed wele
Bothe in Iren and eke in stele
The kynge of fraunce with his batayll
Was redy the sarasynes to assayll
And aboue the sarasynes they rode
Sheltrons pyght and batayll abode
And for stopped the londe weyes
That they myght not flee the countreyes
Neyther no socoure to them come
But they were slayne or nome
The frensshe men dyde boost make
To slee sarasynes and crownes crake
But in Iestes as it is tolde
There was none of them so bolde
To nygh the sarasynes sheltrone
Tyll kynge Rycharde was I come
Now cometh Rycharde with his hoost
And c [...]ed them by an other coost
Bytwene them and the cyte
That none of them myght flee
But they wolde to the ryuer gone
Or elles the crysten sholde them slone
Than had Rycharde hoostes thre
That one gaue assaute to the cyte
The seconde with hym he ladde
To brynge his hors he badde
That the sowdan had hym sente
He sayd with his owne presente
I shall hym mete longe or nyght
He lepte on hors whan it was lyght
Or he in his sadell dyde lepe
Of many thynges he toke kepe
He lacked nought that he ne had
His men brought hym that he bad
A square tree of fourty fete
Before his sadell anone he it sete
Faste that they sholde it brase
That it fayled for no case
And so they dyde with hokes of Iren
And good rynges that wolde duren
Other fastenynge none there was
But Iren chaynes for all that cas
And they were wrought full well
Bothe his gyrthes and his ptytrell
And a queyntyse of the kynges owne
Vpon his hors was throwne
Before his arson an axe of stele
And on that other syde a maswele
Hymselfe was rychely begone
Frome the creste ryght to the tone
He was couered wondersly wele
All with splentes of good stele
And there aboue an hauberke
A shafte he had of trusty werke
Vpon his shulder a shelde of stele
With thre lyardes depaynted wele
And helme he had of ryche entayle
Trusty and trewe was his ventayle
Vpon his creste a doue whyte
Sygnyfyaunce of the holy spyryte
Vpon a crosse the doue stode
Of golde I wrought ryche and good
God hym selfe Mary and Iohn̄
As he was done the rode vpon
In sygnyfyaunce for whome he faught
The spere heed forgate he naught
Vpon his shafte he wolde it haue
Goddes name theron was graue
Now herken what othe he sware
Or they to the batayll wente thare
Yf it were so that Rycharde myght
Slee the sowdan in felde with fyght
At our wyll euerychone
He and his sholde gone
In to the cyte of babyloyne
And the kynge of masydoyne
He sholde haue vnder his honde
And yf the sowdan of that londe
Myght slee Rycharde in the felde
With swerde or spere vnder shelde
That crysten men sholde go
Out of that londe for euer mo
And the sarasynes theyr wyll in wolde
Quod kynge Rycharde therto I holde
Therto my gloue as I am knyght
They be armed and redy dyght
Kynge Rycharde to his sadell dyde lepe
Certes who that wolde take kepe
To se that syght it were fayre
Theyr stedes ranne with grete ayre
Also harde as they myght dyre
After theyr fete sprange out fyre
Tabours and trumpettes gan blowe
There men myght se in a throwe
How kynge Rycharde that noble man
Encountred with the sowdan
The chefe was tolde of damas
His truste vpon his mare was
And therfore as the boke vs telles
His crouper henge full of belles
And his peytrell and his arsowne
Thre myle men myght here the sowne
His mare nyghed his belles dyde rynge
For grete pryde without lesynge
Afaucon brode in honde he bare
For he thought he wolde thare
Haue slayne Rycharde with treasowne
Whan his colte sholde knele downe
As a colte sholde souke his dame
And he was ware of that shame
His eres with wexe were stopped faste
Therfore Rycharde was not agaste
He stroke the fende that vnder hym wente
And gaue the sowdan his deth with a dente
In his shelde verament
Was paynted a serpent
With the spere that Rycharde helde
He bare hym thorugh vnder his shelde
None of his armure myght hym laste
Brydell and peytrell all to braste
His gyrthes and his steropes also
His mare to grounde wente tho
Maugre her heed he made her seche
The grounde without more speche
His fete towarde the fyrmament
Behynde hym the spere out went
There he fell deed on the grene
Rycharde smote the fende with spores kene
And in the name of the holy goost
He dryueth in to the hethen hoost
And as soone as he was come
Asonder he brake the sheltrone
And all that euer afore hym stode
Hors and man to the grounde yode
Twenty fote on eyther syde
All that he ouertoke that tyde
On lyue was there lefte none
Thorugh out he made his hors gone
As bees swarme out of hyues
The crysten men hym after dryues
And cryed than slee downe ryght
Bothe sowdans kynges and knyght
Whan the kynge of fraunce wyste & his men
That the maystry had the crysten
They wexed bolde and good herte toke
Stedes bestrode and shaftes shoke
The kynge of fraunce with a spere
An hethen kynge gan downe bere
And other erles and barownes
Noble men of grete renownes
Slewe the sarasynes downe ryght
Of englonde many a noble knyght
Wrought full well that daye
Of salysbury the longe spaye
To grounde he felde with his bronde
And tho that he before fonde
Nexte kynge Rycharde euer he was
And of multon syr Thomas
Fouke doly Roberte of leycester
In the worlde was not theyr better
Where that ony of them come
They spared nother swayne ne grome
That they ne felde all a downe
The sarasynes sledde in to the towne
For grete sorowe that they seen
The teres ranne out of theyr eyen
And swythe mercy they cryde
And soone they opened the gates wyde
And let them in at theyr wyll come
The crysten than the cyte nome
Anone hastely therwithall
They set baners on the wall
The kynges armes of englonde
Whan Salandyn gan to vnderstonde
That the cyte yelded was
He gan to crye and sayd alas
The pryse of hethenes is I done
And tho began to flee full soone
With hym many a baron and knyght
But kynge Rycharde that was wyght
Whan he sawe the sowdan flye
Abyde cowarde he sayd on hye
And I shall the preue false
And thy cursed goddes alse
Kynge Rycharde dryued after hym faste
The sowdan was sore agaste
A grete wood before hym he sawe
Theder in a grete haste he flawe
Rycharde wente the wood nere
He douted of encombrere
He myght not in for his tre
Sone he tourned his horse eye
With that he mette a hethen kynge
His axe he drewe out of his rynge
And he hytte hym on the creste
That his lyfe no lenger laste
Another he raught vpon the shelde
The heed flewe in to the felde
Syxe he slewe of bethen kynges
To tell the sothe in all thynges
In his geste as I fynde
More than twenty thousynde
Of emty stedes aboute yode
Vp to the fote lakes in blode
All a straye aboute they yede
What man wolde myght ryde
That batayll lasted tyll it was nyght
But whan they had slayne downe ryght
The sarasynes that they myght take
Grete Ioye the crysten dyde make
They kneled and thanked god in heuen
And worshypped his names seuen
On bothe sydes were folkes Islawe
But the nombre of the hethen lawe
That laye deed vpon the felde
To god they gan theyr soules yelde
There were slayne hondredes thre
And of the sarasynes more plente
An hondred thousande and yet mo
Lo suche grace god sente tho
The crysten in to the cyte gone
Of golde & syluer & precyous stone
They founde Inowe without fayle
Mete and drynke and other vytayle
On the morowe whan the kynge arose
His dedes were ryche and his lose
The sarasynes before hym come
And asked hym crystendome
There were crysted as I fynde
More than twenty thousynde
Chyrches he let make of crystes lawe
And theyr maumettes all to drawe
And tho that wolde not crysten become
They were slayne all and some
And departed that tresour
Amonge crysten with honour
Erle baron knyght and knaue
Had as moche as they wolde haue
Whan this was done I you saye
He let his colte vanysshee awaye
¶ How kynge Rycharde and the kynge of fraunce were wrothe togyder / and how ye kynge of fraū wente home to his londe.
THere they dwelled fourtenyght
And afterwarde they them nyght
Towarde Iherusalem they gan ryde
Kynge Phelyp spake a worde of pry [...]e
Iherusalem that fayre cyte
That is so fayre and so fre
Though thou it wynne it shall be myn
By god sayd Rycharde & by saynt martyn
And as god do my so [...]ue bore
Of my wynnynge not halfe a fote
I ne shall gyue the no londe
I do the well to vnderstonde
If thou wylte it haue he sayd then
Go now forth & wynne it with thy men
Myn offrynge quod Rycharde lo it he [...]
I wyll come Iherusalem no nere
And in an arblaste of vyse he ben [...]
A floryn towarde the cyte he sense
And that was sygnyfyaunce
Ihesu cryste to honouraunce
For wrathe became seke the kynge of fraunce
His leches he sente after without dystaunce
And they sayd neuer he sholde hole ben
But he in to fraunce retourned ayen
Than his counseyll vnderstode
And sayd it was trewe and good
Theyr shyppes they dyght more & las [...]
And wente home at alhalowmasse
Kynge Rycharde gan to hym crye
And sayd he dyde grete vylanye
To wende home for maladly
Out of the londe of Surry
Tyll done was goddes seruyse
For lyfe or deth in ony wyse
The kynge of fraunce none other wolde do
But in that maner departed so
And after that departynge forsoth
Euer after they were wrothe
¶ How kynge Rycharde and his men made the walles of a cyte whiche hyght chalens / and how the duke of astryche departed frome hym / bycause of ye rebuke he gaue hym bycause he wolde not doo as he dyde / and how kynge Rycharde wan the castell of daron.
NOw herken of Rycharde the kynge
How he wrought with his gynge
Kynge Rycharde wente his hoost
To Iaffe without ony boost
The kynges pauylyon good and fyne
They gan dyght with a gryffyne
Other lordes gan aboute sprede
Theyr pauylyons in fayre mede
Kynge Rycharde with his men all
Of the cyte let make the wall
That neuer was no sarasynes
So stronge wrought with byches
That castell was stronge and ryche
In the worlde was none hym lyche
Theder myght come by the see
Of all maner goodes grete plente
He set euery warde with good knyghtes
Stoute in armes stronge in fyghtes
Men myght wende the cyte aboute
Many myle without doute
Kynge Rycharde dewelled with honour
Tyll Iaffe were made and the toure
Frome thens to chalens he wente
And founde the walles all to rente
Grete and fayre was the cyte
Kynge Ryeharde therof had pyte
Kynge Rycharde besought the lordes all
Of that cyte to helpe to make the wall
And all the lordes euerychone
Graunted hym his askynge anone
Saue the duke of esteryche
Kynge Rycharde thought to be quycke
Kynge Rycharde began to trauayle
Aboute the walles without fayle
So there dyde many an other
Fader and sone eme and brother
Made moter and layde stone
With theyr myght euerychone
Euery kynge and euery emperour
Stones bare and mortour
Saue the duke that was full of pryde
He ne wolde them helpe at no tyde
Vpon a daye kynge Rytharde hym mette
And hendly kynge Rycharde hym grette
He badde the duke of his courtesye
To make of the wall his partye
And he answered in his maner
My fader was nother mason nor carpenter
And though your wall all to shake
I shall them neuer helpe to make
Kynge Rycharde was in grete erroure
Wrathe made hym to chaunge coloure
The duke with his fote he smote
Ayenst the breste god it wote
That on a stone he ouerthrewe
It was mysdome by saynt Mathewe
Fye on the deuylles thou foule cowarde
In hell be thou hanged harde
Go quyckely out of this hoost
The curse haue thou of the holy goost
By the sydes of cryste Ihesus
Fynde I the traytour amonge vs
Ouer this same dayes thre
My selfe shall thy bane be
Traytour we trauayle daye & nyght
In ware and wrake and in fyght
And thou lyest as foule gloton
And slepest in thy pauylyon
Thou drynkest wyne good & stronge
And slepest all the daye longe
I shall take frome the thy baner
And caste it in to the ryuer
Home wente the duke full wrothe
His owne stryfe was hym lothe
Of that despyte he was vnblythe
He trussed his harneys as swythe
And sware by Ihesu in trynyte
Yf he myght euer his tymese
He sholde of Rycharde hym so awreke
That all the worlde therof shall speke
He helde hym all to well forwarde
In hell be he hanged harde
Thorugh his treason and his trechery
And thorugh the waytynge of a spye
He dyde kynge Rycharde grete shame
That tourned all englonde to grame
A lytell lenger and he moost
And had his lyfe by the holy goost
Of euery duke kynge and emperous
He had ben lorde and conquerour
All crysten and eke panym
Solde all holde of hym
The duke of estryche hyed faste
Awaye with his meyne in haste
And with hym the duke of burgoyne
The folke of fraunce & the erle of coloyne
Kynge Rycharde let breke his baner
And caste it in to the ryuer
And cryed on hym with voyce stepe
Home shrewed cowarde and go slepe
Come no more in no wyse
Neuer efte in goddes seruyse
The duke of estryche prycked then
For wrathe his herte gan bren
Kynge Rycharde lefte with his englysshe
Tuscanes gascoynes lumbardes Iwas
Skottes Irysshe and folke of brytayne
Geneuoys baskes and men of spayne
And made the walles daye and nyght
Tyll they were stronge pyght
Than kynge Rycharde with grete pyne
Had made the walles of chalyne
All his hoost with hym he taas
And wente forth a grete paas
The fyrst nyght in the name of Marye
He laye at a towne that hyght famelye
On the morowe he let hym arme wele
Bothe in Iren and eke in stele
By the maryne forth he wente
To abbare a cyte full gente
That was a castell of sarasynes
Full of stones and of ryches
Bothe of fatte flesshe and of lene
Whete otes pesyn and bene
Kynge Rycharde it wan & soiourned there
Nyne dayes all planere
And sente spyes by eche wayes
For to aspye the countrayes
Of castell daron kynge Rycharde herde
All togyder how it ferde
For it was full of sarasynes
That were goddes enemyes
Kynge Rycharde wente theder in haste
The sarasynes for to agaste
So he wente on his Iournaye
He came theder by saynt Iames daye
They besyeged the daron
To wynne the castell and the towne
The castell was made of suche stone
That it dredde assaute ryght none
Aboute the walles was I dyght
They ne had neuer sene no syght
The sarasynes cryed in theyr langage
Crysten houndes of euyll rage
Here ye haue fet your dome
But ye the sooner tourne home
Whan kynge Rycharde herde that crye
He sware his othe by saynt Marye
The sarasynes sholde be hanged all
Or suche a case sholde befall
The crysten assayled & they defended
And many a quarell they sended
All that daye and all that nyght
They and the crysten kepte fyght
Kynge Rycharde sawe he myght not spede
Than he bethought hym of an other rede
Kynge Rycharde toke all his englysshe
And dyde repe russhes in a marysshe
To fyll withall the dyche of darowne
To wynne the castell and the towne
Twenty grete gynnes for the nones
Kynge Rycharde sente after to cast stones
By water they were brought anone
The matgryffon was that one
That was set vpon an hyll
To breke the walles of the castyll
That other gynne hyght robynet
That on an other syde was set
Rycharde fet an other mangenell
That caste towarde an other tourell
Kynge Rycharde dyde bynde the russhes faste
And in to the dyche dyde them caste
And all playne the dyche made
The sarasynes no warde they hade
Wylde fyre theron they caste
The russhes were on fyre in haste
And brenned ryght to the grounde
Soone within a lytell stounde
Of the crysten many an hondred
Therof gretely were awondred
The mangenelles threwe alwayes
And brake the walles nyght and daye
The robynet and the matgryffowne
And that they hytte they caste downe
So within a lytell stounde
The nexte wall was caste to grounde
And fylled full the grete dyche
Efte with russhes hastelyche
Tho myght our knyghtes well
Entre in to daron castell
The erle of leycester syr Roberth
The trustyest body of myddell erth
He was the fyrst without fayle
The castell daron to assayle
Vp he lefte his banere
And smote on the destrere
The sarasynes with mysauentoure
Fledde in to the hygh toure
That was bothe stronge and starke
All of the sarasynes warke
And many stode withoute
And fought faste without doute
Ayenst the erle syr Robarde
They gaue many a dente harde
Many a helme there was weued
And many a bassenet all to cleued
Sheldes clouen fyll a two
And many a stede stycked also
Roberte turnam with his faucowne
Gan there to cracke many a crowne
The longe spaye the erle of rychemonde
Slewe many an hethen hounde
All that theyr swerdes araught
It fell at the fyrst draught
There dyed many crysten men
But of hethen suche ten
Amonge them came kynge Rycharde
To fyght well he nothynge sparde
Many one in a lytell stounde
With his axe he layde to grounde
All on fote he gan to fyght
The sarasynes of hym had a syght
How plenteuous was his payment
None ne myght withstonde his dent
They wente quykly without fable
And slewe theyr stedes in the stable
The fayrest hors and stede
That euer bare knyght at nede
Flesshe whete floure and larder
All togyder they set on fyer
They had leuer to do so
Than with theyr vytayll to helpe theyr fo
By the brethe kynge Rycharde aspyde
He slewe downe ryght on euery syde
All that he myght ouertake
None amendes must they make
He began to assayle the hye toure
With wyght men of grete valoure
The sarasynes in the toure on hye
Saynge theyr endynge daye was nye
Wylde fyre soone in haste
Amonge the crysten it was caste
The wylde fyre flowe aboute so smarte
That many a crysten man it harte
They myght no lenger suffre that thrawe
Anone they began them to withdrawe
A myle frome daron castell
They caste abrode many a fyre barell
And soone after in a lytell space
Thorugh the helpe of goddes grace
The castell fell on fyre all
Fro the toure to the vttermost wall
The houses brente and the burdys
Gr [...]te smoke there arose Iwys
The sarasynes were almoost attaynt
And in the smoke well nygh adraynt
Ten hondred there cryed at one worde
Mercy kynge Rycharde good lorde
Let vs go out of this toure
And thou shalte haue a grete tresoure
With lyfe and lymbe let vs go
A thousande we gyue the to
Nay quod Rycharde by Ihesu cryste
By his dethe and by his vpryste
Ye shall neuer downe come
Tyll payed be that raunsome
And yet therafter be at my wyll
Whether I wyll you saue or spyll
Or ye shall ryght there sterue
Alorde they sayd we shall the serue
At thy wyll we wyll vs do
With that we must come the to
To honge or drawe brenne or sle
Our fredome lorde is in the
Kynge Rycharde graunted them than
And commaunded the crysten man
That the sarasynes be kepte with sorowe
For to the sonne aryse on the morowe
It was done as I in boke fynde
Kynge Rycharde let them faste bynde
Vpon a playne before the wall
Kynge Rycharde let them lede all
And he that payed a thousande pounde
For his heed he myght passe sounde
He that wolde so moche gyue
To a certayne daye he let hym lyue
And he that payed no raunsowne
As quycke his heed was smyten downe
Thus kynge Rycharde wan daron
God gyue vs all his benyson
And his soule reste and ro
And ours whan it cometh therto
¶ How kynge Rycharde smote downe an ymage of marble / and how he slewe fyue sarasynes that were within ye sayd ymage and of many other maters.
AFter the wynnynge of darowne
The kynge wente to an other towne
To gatrys with a fayre meyne
For to besyege that cyte
Now herken how he it wan
And ye shall here of a doughty man
A stoute warryour and a queynte
That neuer was founde in herte feynte
He that was lorde of Catrys
Had ben a man of prys
And fell to fyght ayenst his fo
That same tyme it was not so
For he was so fallen in elde
That he myght none armes welde
Bus as he dyde after queyntyse
Herken nowe in whiche wyse
Amyddes the towne vpon a stage
He let make a marble ymage
I crowned stoutly as a kynge
And badde his folke olde and yinge
That they sholde neuer ben a knowe
To crysten men hygh ne lowe
That they had no lordynge of dygnyte
But that ymage in that cyte
Kynge Rycharde the warryour kene
There assaute he began by dene
Spryngelles and mangenelles he bente
And stones to the cyte sente
The sarasynes mercy cryde
They wolde caste pv the gates wyde
If it were kynge Rychardes wyll
That he wolde not the people spyll
And he graunted without les
They had entre all in peas
Kynge Rycharde asked at the fyrst worde
Of the cyte where was the lorde
They answered Rycharde the kynge
That they ne had no lordynge
But the ymage of marble fyne
And mahowne and theyr god appolyne
Kynge Rycharde stode so sayth the boke
And on the ymage he gan for to loke
How hewge he was wrought and sterne
And sayd to them all yerne
O sarasynes without fayle
Of your lorde I haue meruayle
Yf I may thorugh helpe of my lorde god
That bought vs all with his blode
With a shafte smyte his necke asonder
And ye shall se that wonder
Wyll ye byleue all vpon my lorde
Ye than they sayd all at one worde
Than kynge Rycharde let hym dyght a shafte
Of a trusty tree and of kynde crafte
And for it sholde ben stronge and laste
He let bynde therto well faste
Endlonge foure yerdes of yre
And syth Rycharde the grete syre
Let set theron a crownall kene
Whan it was redy on to sene
Fauell of Cypres was forth fet
And in the sadell he hym set
And rode his course to the stage
And in the face smote the ymage
The heed tho flowe the body asonder
And slewe fyue sarasynes there vnder
The sarasynes sayd than
He was a deuyll and no man
And all became crysten thore
yonge and olde lesse and more
And hastely without lesynge
Theyr olde lorde they gan forth brynge
And tolde all his compasement
Kynge Rycharde lough with good entent
And gaue hym the cyte to welde
Though he leued adamas helde
To chalyns he wente agayne
Forth by the maryne soth to sayne
There he soiourned seuen nyght
With many a doughty knyght
They pyght pauylyons fayre and well
For to besyege a stronge castell
That was a myle besyde lyem
Thre myle frome castell pylgrem
With thycke walles & tourelles of pryde
The castell was cleped lefryde
The sarasynes sawe the kynge was come
For drede they wende to ben I nome
Theyr hertes were full of wo
All by nyght awaye they flo
The gate they vnshette full yerne
And flowe awaye by a posterne
For all this myddell erth
They ne durst abyde kynge Rycharde
This noble castell verament
Kynge Rycharde wan without dent
Fro thens he wente to gebolyn
That hospytalers had dwelled therin
And templers bothe in fere
And kepte the cyte many a yere
Whan Bawdewyn was slayne with bronde
Salandyn toke the towne in honde
In that cyte was saynt Anne I bore
That our lady was of I bore
They pyght the kynges pauylyownes
With force within the townes
And slewe the sarasynes all and same
That wolde not leue on crystes name
There came the fyrst wycked tydynge
To cure delyon Rycharde our kynge
Of englonde his brother Iohn̄
That was the fendes flesshe and bone
Thorugh helpe of the barones sone
The chaunceler had I nome
And wolde be with maystry of honde
Crowned kynge of englonde
At estertyde there afterwarde
Than answered kynge Rycharde
What deuyll he sayd how is this
Telleth Iohn̄ no more prys
He weneth that I lyue to longe
Therfore he wyll do me wronge
And yf he knewe I were on lyue
He wolde not with me stryue
I shall me so of hym awreke
That all the worlde therof shall speke
If Iohn̄ hym crowne that ester tyde
Where wyll he me than abyde
There is no kynge in crystente
Certes that shall his waraunt be
I ne may byleue for no nede
That my brother wyll do this dede
Yes certes sayd the messengere
He wyll so do by saynt rychere
Kynge Rycharde all this tydynge
Helde in herte but lesynge
Fro gebolyne forth he wente
To betanye a castell gente
And slewe theyr many an hethen man
And that noble cyte he wan
There come other messengers
That tolde Rycharde stoute and fyers
That Iohn̄ his brother wolde bere
Crowne at ester he gan to swere
The kynge was lothe to withdrawe his honde
Tyll he had I wonne the holy londe
And slewe the sowdan with dente of sworde
And auenged Ihesu our lorde
And he bethought hym after then
He wolde leue there his men
And with a preuy meyne
In to englonde wolde he
And apease that warre anone
Bytwene hym and his brother Iohn̄
And came agayne in hyenge
For to fulfyll his begynnynge
And also he thought in his herte
A stoute sarasyne gan in sterte
That ought kynge Rycharde raunson
For the wynnynge of daron
He spake to Rycharde apartylyche
Amonge his people that were ryche
Syr kynge thou shalte me quyte skere
And all thyn other hostagere
Thorugh thy queyntyse and thy gyn
I shall the do grete tresour wyn
More than an hondred thousande pounde
Florence of golde hole and sounde
Of the sarasynes tresore
And moche more other store
Therto I laye to hostage my lyfe
And my chyldren and my wyfe
But I do the wynne that praye
On an euyll dethe must I daye
Kynge Rycharde sayd thou mystruaunt
So as thou byleuest on termagaunt
Tell me now what folke there is
I byleue it is full fayntyse Iwys
That ledeth so tresour without iayles
Syr there ben fyue hondred camayles
And fyue thousande there ben & mo
Asses and grete mules also
That ledeth golde to Salandyn
Of grete tresour and of fyne
Of whete and of spycerye
Of sylke and sendell grete plentye
Rycharde sayd so god me deme
Is there moche folke that to yeme
Ye syr he sayd there ben before
Knyghtes rydynge syxty score
And after cometh suche ten
Of doughty hethen men
I herde them speke in theyr rounynge
They were aferde of the englysshe kynge
Kynge Rycharde sayd that they sholde fynde
Though there were twenty thousynde
I wolde them mete euerychone
Though I were my selfe alone
Without helpe of ony man
I wolde them flee or quycke tan
Do saye me anone ryght
Where shall I fynde them to nyght
Here besyde myles ten
Thou myght fynde the hethen men
There they wyll reste and abyde
Tyll more folke comeryde
Hors and harneys he cryed anone
Cure delyon now is tyme to gone
Before wente his templers
His gascoyens and his hospytalers
Hors and men were cryed in hyenge
And wente forth with Rycharde our kynge
Than sayd the longe spaye vnto the kynge
Syr make here thy dwellynge
They ben lodged in the towne
I wyll go and aspye theyr rowne
And brewe them a drynke with wo
Now I wyll to them go
And tell them that kynge Rycharde
Is faste in to englondewarde
They wyll me leue with the best
And they wyll than go to theyr rest
And than syr may ye wende
And take them all slepende
Fye a deuyll sayd the kynge
God gyue the euyll endynge
I am no traytour take good kepe
To sle men whan they slepe
By clere daye vpon the feldes
Thou shalte se speres and sheldes
Be it erles barons or kynges
All they shall haue theyr endynges
The sarasyne our kynge Rycharde answereth
There is no man in the myddell erth
Duke baron ne knyght
Is none so hardy ne so wyght
Ne none so moche of renowne
Well mayst yu be hyght Rycharde cure delyon
Therfore I wyll not it forhele
There ben of sarasynes twyes so fele
As thou hast folke in this countre
Sertaynly I warne the
Rycharde sayd god gyue me shame
Therfore and my herte be lame
For one of my crysten men
Is worth of sarasynes nyne or ten
The more there ben the more shall we slo
And awreke Ihesu cryste of his fo
Forth wente there a spye after then
And aspyed the hethen men
He aspyed theyr compassynge
And tolde it Rycharde our kynge
He cryed hors and harneys thare
And dyght them and made them yare
Anone lepte the kynge Rycharde
On his stede that hyght lyarde
His englysshe and his templers
They lepte anone on theyr destrers
And wente in to the hethen hoost
In the name of the holy goost
All the sarasynes with one noblaye
To the sowdan wolde theyr waye
Kynge Rycharde smote them amonge
There began a blysfull songe
But to term agaunt and to mahowne
They cryed helpe to syr plutowne
Kynge Rycharde gan downe bere
Them thorugh the herte with a spere
And so he serued an admyrayle
And fyue dukes without fayle
Afterwarde his axe he drewe
Many an hethen man he slewe
Some he cloue vnto the sadell ryght
And slewe bothe swayne and knyght
A kynge he cloue vnto the arsowne
There halpe hym nought mahowne
An erle he smote on the yren hode
That at the breste the axe withstode
There was full many a sarasyne
That he sente to hell pyne
They destroyed many a stede
So swyftely they gan spede
His templers and his hospytalers
Came there on fayre destrers
So longe they fought sayth the storye
That they had the vyctorye
Thorugh helpe of his crysten knyghtes
Styffe in armes stronge in fyghtes
And as many he slewe alone
As they dyde euerychone
And many escaped with dethes wounde
That lyued after but a stounde
They wolde hym no more mete
Rycharde by the waye ne by strete
Now may ye here of the wynnynge
That wanne Rycharde our kynge
Hors of pryce and many a camayle
Fyue thousande & fyue hondred saunce fayle
Syxe hondred hors of grete coursers
All charged with ryche tresers
That were in cofers faste I bounde
With fyne syluer and golde full rounde
Mules he had thre thousande and mo
That pannes and spyces bare tho
And fyue hondred of asse
Bare wyne and oyle more & lasse
And also many of whete rede
There Rycharde dyde a noble dede
Whan he all that tresour wan
He wente home to his man
In to betanye that cyte noble
With that treasour and with that moble
He gaue to hygh and to lowe
Of his purches good ynowe
He gaue them stedes and coursers
So Rycharde parted his purches in fyers
Hym betydde a well fayre case
Of all crystendome lorde he was
Soone after in a lytell stounde
There came two messengers of mounde
The bysshop of chester was that one
That other the abbot of saynt albone
And brought letters specyell
I sealed with the barons seell
They hym tolde that kynge Iohn̄
Wolde do hym the crowne vpon
At eester by the comyn dome
But ye the rather come home
For the kynge of fraunce with enuye
Was rysen in normandye
Than sayd Rycharde by goddes payne
The deuyll hath now to moche mayne
For all theyr boost and theyr deraye
Yet they shall bowe some daye
There they dwelled tyll halowmasse
And than he gan to Iaffe passe
For seuen yere and for more
He gan the castell to astore
Fyue thousande I fynde in boke
He let there that castell loke
For to kepe well that londe
Out of Salandynes honde
Tyll that come agayne he myght
Frome englonde god it dyght
And than he thought to Acrys warde
That doughty body kynge Rycharde
Of Salandyn now begyn I geste
That maketh noyse and grete heste
Wrothe he was and full sore amoued
For his tresour was thus robbed
And for his men were thus I slayne
Therfore was hym nothynge fayne
And sayd he wolde awreked be
Whan he myght his tyme se
So that tyme came a spye in
And tolde thus to Salandyn
A lorde be now blythe of mode
I the brynge tydynges gode
To thy herte a blythe presente
Kynge Rycharde is to Acrys wente
For ouer he wyll to englonde
Hym is I come suche a sonde
That Ihon̄ his brother I the swere
Wyll his crowne bere
Iaffe he hath stored a ryght
With many a baron & hardy knyght
Fyftene thousande I wote well
That shall kepe the towne & the castell
If he may so well spede
Tyll he come frome his stede
Salandyn was ofre in wele and wo
But neuer so mery as he was tho
The spye he gaue an hondred besauntes
That the tydynges brought to presauntes
And a ryght fayre destrere
And robe furred with blaundemere
Than wolde he no lenger abyde
He sente aboute on euery syde
Vpon lymbe and vpon lyfe
Vpon chyldren and vpon wyfe
That they come to hym belyue
To helpe hym out of londe dryue
Kynge Rycharde and his tayle
To hym came an admyrayle
Many a duke and many a kynge
And many an other grete lordynge
Of egypte and of arabye
Of capadose and of barbarye
Of cyre and of asclomoyne
Of ynde and of babyloyne
Of grete grece and tyre also
Of many empyres & kyngdomes to
Of all the hethen kynges that I fynde
Frome the grekes see vnto ynde
Charles the kynge ne Alysaunder
Of whome was made moche sclaunder
Ne had neuer halfe the hoost
As in the countre laye in coost
Fyue myle it laye in brede
And more I wene so god me rede
And twenty it was of length
This was an hoost of grete strength
There men myght se grete wonder
Of people that were without nombre
Iaffe they haue aboute I set
Many a crysten man to let
There were in a lytell thrawe
On bothe partyes moche folke I slawe
So stoute and harde was the batayle
That it fared without fayle
As it had ben frome heuen lyght
So clere it was of swerdes bryght
The crysten men well fought
To slee the sarasynes they had in thought
They fared as of the erth they spronge
So many there were of olde and yonge
That no slaughter of swerdes kene
In that batayll myght ben sene
Tho the crysten fledde in to the castell
And kepte the gates swythe well
The sarasynes the cyte nome
To theyr well and to theyr dome
Than began many a sarasyne
The castell wall to vndermyne
And the crysten for the nones
To frusshe them bothe body and bones
The sarasynes yode aboute the wall
And shotte in ouer all
And our men to them as swythe
Many of them they made vnblythe
They sought where they myght best
Greue the crysten men mest
At the laste a gate they fonde
Not faste shotte in they sonde
There they founde a stronge metynge
Of launces and swerdes caruynge
To grounde they layde a thousande men
Of ours there were slayne but ten
Thoughe they were neuer so stoute
At the gate they put them oute
That daye myght they not spede
The sarasynes for no nede
A knyght by the mone clere
The crysten sente a messengere
To kynge Rycharde to Acrys cyte
And badde hym for goddes pyte
That he sholde to helpe come
And elles they were all I nome
They tolde hym all the harde cas
Of the sowdan how it was
And but ye come to them anone
They ben but deed euerychone
Rycharde answered tho a plyght
Full well knowe I the sowdans fyght
He wyll make but a deraye
At the walles and go his waye
I wyll not for hym to them wende
But soone I wyll them socour sende
He cleped to hym his neuewe
A baron of grete vertewe
That hyght Harry of champayne
And bad hym wende to Iaffe playne
And sayd take with the this hoost
And abbate the sowdans boost
Hors and harneys he gan crye
Amonge the hoost they sholde hye
And with syr Harry for to wende
And Iaffe helpe to desende
Ayenst the cursed Salandyne
And awreke you of the sarasyne
On the morowe wente syr Harry
And many a good knyght hardy
Gascoynes spanyardes and lumbarde
For the byddynge of kynge Rycharde
They wente forth by the maryne
Tyll they came to palastryne
The sarasynes hoost there they sene
All the countre full I wene
Of theyr comynge the sawdan herde
Swythe towarde them he ferde
Whan duke Harry this wyste
He fledde agayne by Ihesu cryste
And he made no tarynge
Tyll he came to Rycharde our kynge
And sayd he neuer sawe ne herde
In all this wyde myddell erde
Not halfe dele the people of men
That Salandyn hath by downe & den
No tonge he sayd may them tell
I wene they come out of hell
Than answered kynge Rycharde
Fye a deuylles thou foule cowarde
He shall I neuer by god aboue
Truste to frensshe mannes loue
The crysten men that in Iaffe beth
They may wyte the of theyr deth
Thorugh thy defaude I am a dradde
My good barons ben bestadde
Now for the loue of saynt Marye
Swythe shewe me my galye
All tho that euer loue me
To shyppe nowe for charyte
All that euer wepen bere myght
To shyppe the wente anone ryght
And hyed them to Iaffe warde
With the doughty kynge Rycharde
Herken now how my tale goth
Though I swere to you none othe
I wyll you rede romayns none
Of pertenope ne of yponydone
Ne of Alysaunder ne of Charlemayne
Ne of Arthur ne of Gawayne
Ne of Launcelot de lake
Ne of Beuys ne Guy of Sydrake
Ne of Vry ne of Octauyan
Ne of Hector the stronge man
Ne of Iason neyther of Hercules
Ne of Eneas neyther of Achylles
They ne wanne neuer parmafaye
In theyr tyme by theyr daye
And anone of them so doughty dede
Ne so stronge batayll ne of felowrede
As dyde kynge Rycharde without fayle
At Iaffe at that stronge batayle
With his axe and his swerde
Assoyle his soule Ihesu lorde
It was before mydnyght
Mone and sterre shone well bryght
Rycharde was to Iaffe come
With his galayes all and some
And herkened towarde the castell
If he myght here taboure or flagell
And he nought coude aspye
By voyce ne by mynstrelsye
What quycke man in the castell ware
Tho became his herte full of care
Well sore than wepte kynge Rycharde
Wronge his hondes and tare his barde
A Ihesu now thy socour
To longe I haue made soiour
Now slayne is Roberte mortemere
That was erle of leycestere
Euery here of hym was worth a knyght
And Roberte turnam that was so wyght
And syr Brandys and syr Pyttarde
That in batayll was wyse and harde
And all my good barons
The best of all my regyons
They ben slayne and all to tore
How myght I lenger lyue therfore
I myght haue saued all myne
If I had comen betyme
Certes I shall neuer be blythe man
Tyll I be awreked on the sowdan
Thus syghed kynge Rycharde aye
Tyll it came ayenst the daye
A wayte there stode at a cornell
And pyped a note with a flagell
He ne pyped but one sythe
Many an herte he made blythe
He loked downe and sawe galyes
Kynge Rycharde and his nauyes
Shyppe and sayle well he knewe
A mery note than he blewe
And cryed seygnyours or sus sus
Kynge Rycharde is come amonge vs
Whan the crysten herde this
Theyr hertes became lyght I wys
Erles barons squyers and knyght
To the walles ranne ryght
And sawe kynge Rycharde theyr lorde
And welcomed hym with blythe worde
And sayd lorde welcome in goddes name
All our sorowe is tourned to game
Rycharde had neuer in herte Iwys
Halfe dele so moche blys
Hors and harneys he cryed thare
Ayenst the sarasynes for to fare
We ne haue lyfe but one
Sell we it dere bothe flesshe & bonē
For to chalenge our herytage
Slee we the sarasynes on euyll rage
Who so hym douteth for menace
Ne se he neuer in goddes face
Take me myn axe in myn honde
It was made in englonde
No more theyr armure I ne doute
Than it were a pylche cloute
The sothe to saye men shall se
Thorugh goddes helpe in trynyte
He was the fyrst that on londe dyde lepe
Of a dosyn he made an hepe
He gan to crye with voyce clere
Where ben these hethen pantenere
That haue the cyte of Iaffe I nome
With my pollaxe I am come
For to waraunt that I haue do
Wassayll he sayd I drynke you to
He layde on I saye you a plyght
And slewe the sarasynes downe ryght
The sarasynes fledde and wente mate
Full faste out at the castell gate
In herte they were full of sorowe
That them thought the gate to narowe
And ranne to the walles of the towne
By euery syde they lepte downe
And eueryche cryed in this manere
Herken now and ye shall here
Malkan sterran nayre arbru
Loyre fermoyre touz memoru
That is for to saye in englysshe
The englysshe deuyll I come is
And but we flee out of his waye
An euyll deth shall we dye to daye
They fledde out of the towne anone
Therin abode not so moche as one
But foure hondred or fyue
They were soone brought out of lyue
They lepte on theyr destreres
And at the gate set porters
Kynge Rycharde lepte on fauell
Well armed in yren and in stele
And rode hym out at the gate
The kynge of egypte he mette therate
With syxty thousande of sarasynes fers
With armes bryght and brode baners
Rycharde a duke on the helme hytte
Downe to the grounde he hym slytte
Another he smote on the yren hode
That at his breste his swerde stode
His templers and his barons
Fared ryght lyke wood lyons
And slewe the sarasynes swythe
As grasse falleth before the sythe
The sarasynes sawe no better wone
But fledde awaye euerychone
To Salandynes grete hoost
That fyftene myle laye in coost
Syxty thousande as I you saye
The sowdan loste that same daye
For theyr armure fared as waxe
Ayenst kynge Rychardes axe
Many a sarasyne & hygh lordynge
Yelded them to Rycharde our kynge
Rycharde put them in hostage tho
There were a thousande prysoners & mo
The chase lasted swythe longe
Tyll the tyme of euensonge
Rycharde rode after tyll it was nyght
So many of them to deth he dyght
That no nombre it may accounte
How many of them it wolde amounte
Rycharde lefte without the towne
And pyght there his pauylyowne
And that nyght with mylde herte
He comforted his barons smarte
And ye shall here on the morowe
How there was a daye of sorowe
For the gretest batayll I vnderstonde
That neuer was in ony londe
And ye that this batayll wyll lere
Herken now and ye shall here
As kynge Rycharde sate at his soupere
And gladded his barons with mylde chere
And comforted them with ale and wyne
Two messengers came frome Salandyn
And stode kynge Rycharde before
With longe berdes and with hore
Of two mules they were a lyght
In golde and sylke they were I dyght
Eyther helde other by the honde
And sayd kynge Rycharde now vnderstonde
Our lorde Salandyn the hygh kynge
Hath the sente this askynge
If that thou were so hardy a knyght
That thou durste hym abyde in fyght
Tyll to morowe that it daye ware
Of blysse thou sholde ben all bare
For thy lyfe and for thy barons
He wyll not gyue two skalons
He wyll the take with strength of hondes
For he hath folke of many londes
Egyens and of turkye
Of moryens and of arabye
Basyles and embosyens
Well eger knyghtes of defens
Egypcyens and of surrye
Of ynde moror and of capadocye
Of medes and of asclamoyne
Of samarye and of babyloyne
Two hondred knyghtes without fayle
Fyue hondred of amarayle
The grounde ne may them vnneth bere
The folke that cometh the to dere
By our rede do ryght well
And tourne agayne to Iaffe castell
In safe warde thou myght there be
Tyll thou haue sente after thy meyne
And yf thou se thou may not stonde
Tourne agayne to thyn owne londe
In anger Rycharde toke vp a lofe
And in his hondes it all to rofe
And sayd to that sarasyne
God gyue the well euyll pyne
And Salandyn your lorde
The deuyll hym hange with a corde
For your counseyll and your tydynge
God gyue you well euyll endynge
Now go and saye to Salandyn
In despyte of his god appolyn
I wyll abyde hym betyme
Though he come to morowe or pryme
And though I were but my selfe alone
I wolde abyde them euerychone
And yf the dogge wyll come to me
My bollaxe shall his bane be
And saye that I hym desyre
And all his cursed company in fere
Go now and saye to hym thus
The curse haue he of swete Ihesus
The menssengers wente to Salandyn
And all the begynnynge tolde hym
Salandyn meruayled than
And sayd it was none erthly man
He is a deuyll or a saynt
His myght founde I neuer faynt
Anone he made his ordeynynge
For to take Rycharde the kynge
Therof Rycharde toke no kepe
But all nyght laye and slepe
Tyll ayenst the dawnynge
Than herde he a shyll cryenge
Thorugh goddes grace an aungell of heuen
Tho sayd to hym with mylde steuen
Aryse and lepe on thy good stede fauell
And tourne agayne to Iaffe castell
Thou haste slepte longe I nough
Thou shalte fynde harde and tough
Or thou come to that cyte
Thou shalte be wrapped & thy meyne
After the batayll without leas
With the sowdan thou make thy peas
Take trues and let thy baronage
Vnto the flome do theyr vyage
To Nazareth and to Bedlem
To Caluarye and to Iherusalem
And let them wende after then
And come thou after with thy shypmen
For enemyes thou haste I vnderstonde
There in thyne owne londe
Vp sayd the aungell & well the spede
Thou ne haddest neuer more nede
Rycharde arose as he wolde wede
And lepte on fauell his good stede
And sayd lordynges or sus or sus
Thus hath vs warned swete Ihesus
On armes he let crye thare
Ayenst the sarasynes for to fare
But Salandyn and his tem
Was bytwene Iaffe and them
That was to Rycharde moche payne
That he ne myght his hoost ordayne
Before he prycked on fauell
His spere dyde byte full well
Therwith he slewe without doute
Thre kynges of the sowdans route
His hors was styffe hymselfe was good
Hors ne man hym nought withstood
For to hewe many an hethen cors
He dyde his myght and his hors
He that had seen his countenaunce
Wolde hym haue had in remembraunce
They gan on hym as faste dryue
As bees done from the hony hyue
Whome that he hytte with his sworde
Neuer after ne spake he worde
The englysshe and frensshe gan after ryde
To fyght they were fresshe that tyde
Vpon the sarasynes faste they donge
With swerdes and with launces stronge
And smote harde with theyr myght
And slewe the sarasynes downe ryght
And there was full lytell kepe
So many of them were layde on slepe
That no slaughter without fayle
Ne myght ben seen in that batayle
A myre there was without Iaffe
A myle longe without lasse
Maugre them kynge Rycharde that syre
Thre thousande droue in to the myre
The foule cursed hethen men
Lye and bathe them in the fen
And tho that wolde come vp
Dranke of Rychardes owne cup
What adreynt and what I slawe
The sowdan lost of the hethen lawe
Syxty thousande in a lytell stounde
In the frensshe it is I founde
Tho kynge Rycharde wente ayen
To recomforte hym with his men
Now he was here now he was there
To helpe them with his powere
Ne sawe men neuer as I you tell
One man so many to grounde fell
And in the moost peryll of the batayle
Kynge Rycharde sawe without fayle
His eem syr Harry of champayne
Felde downe of his hors in the playne
The sarasynes had hym vnder honde
To slee hym faste they gan fonde
It had ben his daye laste
Had not Rycharde comen in haste
Rycharde cryed with an hye voyse
A helpe god and the holy croyse
Myn eem to daye fro shame thou shylde
Frome deth of these dogges wylde
Lordynges he sayd laye on
Ne let these dogges escape non
I my selfe shall proue to smyte
If my pollaxe wyll ought byte
Tho men myght se with mayne
How he shedde blode and brayne
Vpon the place that grene was
Many a soule wente to sathanas
The templers came to socoure
There began an harde shoure
They layde on as they were wode
The valeys ranne all on blode
The longe spaye was a doughty knyght
As he were wode he gan to fyght
The kynge of martok he mette in the felde
With a spere he smote hym in the shelde
That he tombled without fayle
Toppe sayle ouer his hors tayle
That on his heed he lyght
And brake his necke I you plyght
The erle of leycester syr Robarde
The erle of rychemonde & kynge Rycharde
There as these thre knyghtes rode
That daye was the waye all brode
That foure carters myght mete
So many of them there lost the swete
On bothe partyes was many a body
Slayne that was full hardy
At the laste with grete payne
They wanne the erle of champayne
And brought hym vpon his stede
That swythe good was at nede
And bad he sholde by hym ryde
Ryght by his owne syde
With that came a messenger reke
With kynge Rycharde for to speke
And sayd syr for charyte
Tourne agayne to Iaffe cyte
Couered is bothe mount and playne
Kynge Alysaunder ne Charlemayne
Ne had neuer halfe the route
As is the cyte now aboute
Ye may in to the cyte ryde
In felde what happe so euer betyde
And I you warne without fayle
That moche is payred of your batayle
The patryarke I taken is
And Iohn̄ neuell I slayne Iwys
Wyllyam of Arasyn and Gerarde
And bartram the braundys the good lumbarde
All these ben slayne and many mo
Kynge Rycharde bethought hym tho
And began to crye tourne arere
Euery man with his banere
And of sarasynes thousandes many one
To hym gadered euerychone
And slewe fauell vnder hym
Tho was Rycharde wroth & grym
His axe from the arson he drewe
The sarasynes therwith he slewe
That had stycked vnder hym his stede
Therfore they lost theyr hedes to mede
On fote he was and on fote he layed
Many an hondred vnder hym dayed
All that his axe take myght
Downe he slewe anone ryght
What before and what behynde
A thousande sarasynes in boke I fynde
He slewe whan he was on fote
That came there neuer none to bote
Salandynes two sones came ryde
And ten thousande sarasynes by theyr syde
And began to crye to kynge Rycharde
Yelde the traytour thou foule cowarde
Or we shall the slee in this place
Thou lyest quod Rycharde by goddes grace
And with his axe he smote hym so
That his myddell he carued in two
There halfe the body fell downe
And that other halfe abode in the arsowne
Of the sayd Rycharde I am syker
His broder came to that byker
Vpon a stede with grete raundowne
As though the worlde sholde fall downe
And gaue Rycharde a woūde thorugh the arme
That dyde Rycharde moche harme
For on the spere heed was venym
And Rycharde stoutely smote to hym
That hors and man he felde to grounde
Lye there quod Rycharde hethen hounde
Ne shalte thou neuer tell Salandyne
That thou dydest me my lyfe to tyne
Than fyue dukes of hethenesse
Came with theyr hoost more and lesse
And beset aboute Rycharde our kynge
And thought all to deth hym brynge
But Rycharde within a lytell thrawe
The fyue dukes he hath I slawe
And many an hondred after then
All swythe doughty hethen men
At the last though it were late
Rycharde wanne to Iaffe gate
Tho were our crysten well syker
That they sholde wynne that byker
The erle of leycester syr Robarde
Brought hym his stede lyarde
Kynge Rycharde in the sadell dyde lepe
Tho fledde the sarasynes ryght as shepe
Rycharde rode after tyll it was nyght
And slewe all that he take myght
There was slayne in playne and den
Ten hondred thousande hethen men
Tho myght Rycharde without leas
Wende to the cyte of Iaffe in peas
Tho he thanked the kynge of glorye
And Marye of that vyctorye
For syth the worlde was begonne
A fayrer batayle was neuer wonne
On the morowe he sente syr Sabeuyle
And syr Roberte of waturuyle
Huberte and Roberte of turnam
Ganter offorte and Iohn̄ the saynt Iohn̄
That hymselfe and fyue of his men
Wolde fyght ayenst fyue hondred & ten
In wylde felde they wolde fyght
And gouerne theyr goodes ryght
And yf they wynne thus that londe
Euer in to crysten mennes honde
If the sarasynes myght them sle
The londe sholde euer theyr owne be
And yf they wyll not theyr owne sayes
Saye that thre yere and thre dayes
I aske termes of the sowden
To wende to my londe and come ayen
The messengers forth gan wende
And tolde the tale worde and ende
And the sowdan wolde graunte the batayle
Fyue hondred ayenst Rycharde saunce fayle
On the morowe yf he wolde come
The trues sholde ben I nome
And thus tolde the messengers
To kynge Rycharde that was so fers
The nexte daye the sowdan made forwarde
Trues to take with kynge Rycharde
Thorugh all the londe to the flome
To Acrys that wolde come
All the same thre yere
Crysten men ferre ne nere
Myght go to Iherusalem
To the sepulture and to bedlem
To olyuete and to nazarell
To Iaffe and to mayden castell
And to all other pylgrymages
Without harme or domages
¶ How kynge Rycharde was slayne before the castell gaylarde / and how the castell was wonne / and all were slayne that were therin.
THus kynge Rycharde ye doughty man
Peas made with the sowdan
And syth he came I vnderstonde
The waye towarde englonde
And thorugh treason was shotte alas
At castell gaylarde there he was
The duke of estryche in the castell
With his hoost was dyght full well
Rycharde thought there to abyde
The weder was hote in somer tyde
At gaylarde vnder the castell
He wende he myght haue keled hym well
His helme he abbated thare
And made his vysage all bare
A spye there was in the castell
That espyed Rycharde ryght well
And toke an arblaste swythe stronge
And a quarell that was well longe
And smote kynge Rycharde in tene
In the heed without wene
Rycharde let his helme downe fall
And badde his men dyght them all
And swore by the see and the sonne
Tyll the castell were I wonne
Ne sholde neyther mete ne drynke
Neuer in to his body synke
He set vp robynet that tyde
Vpon the castelles syde
And on that other halfe the one
He set vp the matgryffone
To the castell he threwe stones
And brake the walles for the nones
And so within a lytell tyde
In to the castell they gan ryde
And slewe before and behynde
All tho that they myght ayenst them fynde
And euer was the quarell by the lede
Stycked styll in Rychardes hede
And whan it was drawen out
He dyed soone without doute
And he cōmaunded in all thynge
To his fader men sholde hym brynge
That they ne let for nesshe ne harde
Tyll he were at the font euerarde
At font euerarde wytterly
His bones lye his fader by
Kynge Harry forsothe he hyght
All englonde he helde to ryght
Kynge Rycharde was a conquerour
God gyue his soule moche honour
No more of hym in englysshe is wrought
But Ihesu that vs dere bought
Graunte his soule rest and ro
And ours whan it cometh therto
And that it may so be
Saye all amen for charyte