iLnmuMMW

Bought with the income
of the
Larned Fund
 ABO^ 

ANCIENT METRICAL ROMANCES

FROM THE

AUCHINLECK MANUSCRIPT.

THE ROMANCES

OF

ROULAND AND VERNAGU,

AND

OTUEL.

FROMTHE AUCHINLECK MANUSCRIPT.

PRINTED AT EDINBURGH
M.DCCC.XXXVL

PRESENTED

TO THE MEMBERS OF

THE ABBOTSFORD CLUB

BY

ALEXANDER NICHOLSON.

THE
ABBOTSFORD CLUB,
MDCCCXXXVI.
JOHN HOPE, Esquire.
Right Hon. The Earl op Aberdeen.
Adam Anderson, Esquire.
Charles Baxter, Esquire.
5 Robert Blackwood, Esquire.
Bindon Blood, Esquire.
Beriah Botfield, Esquire.
Hon. Henry Cockburn, Lord Cockburn.
John Payne Collier, Esquire.
10 Rev. Alexander Dyce, B. A.
John Black Gracie, Esquire.
James Ivory, Esquire.
Hon. Francis Jeffrey, Lord Jeffrey.
George Ritchie Kinloch, Esquire.
15 William Macdowall, Esquire.
John Whitefoord Mackenzie, Esquire.
James Maidment, Esquire.
Rev. James Morton.
Alexander Nicholson, Esquire.
20 Edward Piper, Esquire.
Robert Pitcairn, Esquire.
Andrew Rutherfurd, Esquire.
Andrew Shortrede, Esquire.
John Smith, Youngest, Esquire.
25 Sir Patrick Walker, Knight.
William B. D. D. Turnbull, Esquire.

PRELIMINARY REMARKS.

In the ancient volume, written on vellum, commonly known as the
Auchinleck MS. are preserved two Ancient English Romances re
lative to Charlemagne and his Peers. Of these poems, Mr. Ellis *
has given a spirited and elegant analysis, but as neither of the ro
mances has appeared in an entire shape, and as the transcripts used
by Mr. Ellis were full of mistakes, it was thought that a correct
and entire edition of these literary curiosities might not inappro
priately be offered as a contribution to the Members of the Abbots-
ford Club.
Unfortunately, both Romances are somewhat mutilated. The
first, which is termed both by Ellis and Sir Walter Scott, " Roland
and Ferragus" is defective, in a few lines at the beginning, which
have been torn out, probably for the sake of the illumination pre
fixed, the title, consequently, given by them is arbitrary, and not
warranted by the text, throughout which, the gigantic antagonist
of the gallant Orlando or Rouland, is invariably styled Vernagu.
On this account, the name affixed by these eminent Antiquaries
* Specimens of Early English Romances., vol. 2, p. 283. London, 1805. Crown, 8vo.
a

ii PRELIMINARY REMARKS.
has been rejected, and Rouland and Vernagu substituted in its
place. The illumination has been also removed from the second
poem, but the title " Otuel, a Knight," still remains. This Romance,
besides being otherwise slightly defective, wants the end.
Rouland and Vernagu, of which no other copy is known to exist
than that occurring in the Auchinleck MS. is taken from Turpin's,
or, as Ritson styles him, Tilpin's, fabulous History of Charle
magne ; and the translator has followed his original with great
minuteness. " This chronicle," observes Mr. Dunlop,# " is feigned
to be addressed from Viennes, in Dauphiny, to Leoprandus, dean
of Aquisgranensis (Aix la Chapelle), but was not written, in fact,
till the end of the eleventh or beginning of the twelfth century.
The real author seems not to be clearly ascertained, but is supposed
by some to have been a Canon of Barcelona, who attributed his
work to Turpin.
" This production, it is well known, turns on the expedition of
Charlemagne to the peninsula. Some French writers have denied
that Charlemagne ever was in Spain, but the authority of Eginhart
is sufficient to establish the fact. It seems certain, that about the
year 777, the assistance of Charlemagne was invoked by one of
those numerous sovereigns, among whom the Spanish provinces
were at that time divided ; that, on pretence of defending his ally
from the aggressions of his neighbours, he extended his conquests
over a great part of Navarre and Arragon ; and, finally, that on his
return to France he experienced a partial defeat from the treacher
ous attack of an unexpected enemy. These simple events have
given rise to the famous battle of Roncesvalles, and the other ex
travagant fictions recorded in the chronicle of Turpin."
* History of Fiction, vol. i. p. 312. Lond. 1814. Crown 8vo.

PRELIMINARY REMARKS. iii
Although the romance of Rouland and Vernagu cannot be
cited as possessing much poetical merit, it is by no means deficient
in vigour, and there is a degree of stirring interest diffused through
out, that completely removes it from the charge of tameness. The
combat is particularly good, and the theological controversy between
the combatants vastly amusing.* Ellis, has, in his Abstract, done
it every justice.f
Sir Otuel, (the nephew, as he calls himself, of " Vernagu,") is an
infinitely superior romance in every respect, and is written with great
spirit and animation. King Clarel's interview with Charlemagne
in which he taunts the ancient monarch, and the emperor's conse
quent wrath, is given with much graphic effect. The knight's con
version to Christianity is somewhat suspicious ; and it might be
suspected that the gallant bearing of Rouland, and the supposed
charms of the fair Bellisent, had more to do with it than the "white
culver" (Dove) that perched on his crest. From the loss of the con
cluding lines, we are not told whether he was finally made happy
by possession of the person of the beauteous fair, but as Charle
magne was too high-minded a person to break his word, we may
safely assume that the marriage was in due season consummated.
Mr. Ellis mentions £ a second MS. (of Otuel) in six-line stanzas,
in the possession of W .Fillingham, Esq. The style of this is repre
sented as languid and feeble. " It has, however, the merit of complet-
* Mr. Ellis was unfortunately furnished with very inaccurate transcripts, and it is not,
surprising that various mistakes occur in his admirable analysis. Thus, " Deneye'' is con
verted into " Agavie," " pusesoun" into " poisoun," &c. The orthography, too, has not been
preserved. t It must be confessed that the poet is not entitled to any other commendation than that
of being an able translator, as the reader will see upon turning ' to the Latin version of the
combat, from Turpin's History. Appendix, No. I.
X P. 313, Vol. II.

iv PRELIMINARY REMARKS.
ing the story, and of furnishing a paraphrase of Turpin's Chronicle
from the period of the death of Ferragus to the battle of Ronces-
valles." Strange to say, Otuel, in the continuation, is almost for
gotten, and is brought forward towards the end, for the purpose of
killing Perigon, King of Persia, at the battle fought by Charlemagne
at Sarragossa against the Saracen King Baligand, an atchievement
which he successfully performs.
As no mention occurs in Turpin of Sir Otuel, and as no French
romance on the subject has been traced, it is not easy to say from
whence the author drew his materials. That it is not an original
English Romance may almost be taken for granted, and perhaps
it may have been derived from the old Scandic Romance on the
exploits of Charlemagne, stated by Warton* to be in the royal
library at Stockholm, and thus described by him : — " Sagan af
Karlamagnuse of Hoppum Hans. The History of Charlemagne,
of his champions and captains, containing all his actions in several
parts. 1 . Of his birth, and coronation, and the combat of Carvetus
King of Babylon with Oddegir the Dane. 2. Of Aglandus King of
Africa, and of his son Jatmund, and their wars in Spain with Char
lemagne. 3. Of Roland, and his combat with Villaline King of
Spain. 4. Of Otuel's conversion to Christianity, and his marriage
with Charlemagne's daughter. 5. Of Hugh, King of Constantinople,
and the memorable exploits of his champions. 6. Of the wars of
Ferracute, King of Spain. 7. Of Charlemagne's atchievements in
Rouncevalles, and of his death." On the other hand, this ancient
Scandic MS. may have been a translation of, or derived from a
French Romance on the subject. Whichever may be the case,
this much is certain, that the exploits of Sir Otuel, at a very early
* History of English Poetry. New Edition. Vol. I. p. lix. London, 1824. 8vo.

PRELIMINARY REMARKS. v
period, had been engrafted on the history of Charlemagne, and if
access could be had to the Stockholm MS. it would probably turn
out that the incidents there, are pretty much the same as those re
corded in the present poem.
The onlyother English romance relating to Charlemagne, of which
the Editor is aware, is that of Sir Ferumbras, with an abridge
ment of which Mr. Ellis has favoured the public* It is professedly
translated from the French, and contains 3386 lines.f It is re
markable, that these poems are the only remains hitherto found
of early English romances relative to Charlemagne and his twelve
Peers, — a fact which seems to indicate either that there must have
been a singular fatality attending the manuscripts on this subject, or
else that it was one not very popular in England. This latter sup
position is rather supported by the fact, that although numerous an
cient romances, from time to time, issued from the presses of our
early printers, the exploits of Orlando of the " good" Ogier, or the
gallant Oliuer, the gigantic Otuel, and even the illustrious Charle
magne, were totally neglected. J
Warton|| remarks, that before the crusades, " the principal and
leading subjects of the old fablers were the atchievements of King
Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table, and of Charlemagne
and his twelve Peers. But in the romances, written after the
Holy War, a new set of conquests and of countries were intro
duced. Trebizonde took place of Rouncevalles, and Godfrey of
* Vol. II. p. 356.
t A copy was in the Library of Dr. Farmer, and a transcript made by Mr. Stevens was
presented by him to the late Mr. Douce. This was again retranscribed by Mr. Ellis.
X Caxton's History of Charlemagne, of which some account will afterwards be given, was
not properly speaking a romance, but a prose compilation from the French and Latin
Chronicles. || Vol. I. p. 112. New Edition, 1824. 8vo.

vi PRELIMINARY REMARKS.
Bulloigne, Solyman, Nouraddin, the Caliphs, the Souldans, and
the cities of iEgypt and Syria, became the favourite topics."
Upon this passage, the late Mr. Price, the editor of the last
edition of Warton has observed, that although it " has been the
subject of severe animadversion, and characterised [by Ritson] as
containing nothing but " random assertion, falsehood, and imposi
tion," there are few of its positions which a more temperate spirit
of criticism might not reconcile with truth. The popularity of
Arthur's story, anterior to the crusade, is abundantly manifested
by the language of William of Malmesbury, and Alanus de Insulis ;
who refer to it as a fable of common notoriety and general belief
among the people. Had it arisen within their own days, we may
be certain that Malmesbury, who rejected it as beneath the dignity
of history, would not have suffered an objection so well founded,
as the novelty of its appearance, to have escaped his censure ; nor
can the narrative of Alanus be reconciled with the general pro
gress of traditionary faith, — a plant of tardy growth, — if we limit
its first publicity to the period thus prescribed (1096-1142). With
regard to Charlemagne and his Peers, as their deeds were chaunted
by Talliefer, at the battle of Hastings 1066, it would be needless
to offer further demonstration of their early popularity ; nor, in
fact, does the accuracy of this part of Warton's statement appear
to be called in question by the writer in question. It would be
more difficult to define the degree in which these romances were
superseded by similar poems on the atchievements of the crusaders ;
or, to use the more cautious language of the text, how far " Tre
bizonde took place of Rouncevalles." But it will be recollected,
that in consequence of the crusades, the action of several roman
ces was transferred to the Holy Land ; — such as Sir Bevis, Sir
Guy, Sir Isumbras, the King of Tars, &c. ; and that most of these

PRELIMINARY REMARKS. vii
were " favourite topics," in high esteem, is clear, from the declara
tion of Chaucer, who catalogued them among the " Romances of
Pris." In short, if we omit the names of the Caliphs, and confine
ourselves to the Soldans, — a generic name used by our early
writers for every successive ruler of the East, and the cities of
Egypt and Syria, this rhapsody, as it has been termed, will contain
nothing which is not strictly demonstrable by historical evidence,
or the language of the old romancers."
Concurring, generally, in the soundness of this criticism, we
may, however, except to that portion of it which assumes the early
popularity "of Charlemagne and his Peers in England. It is, in
deed, true, that " a Norman called Talliefer, spurred his horse in
front, and began the song of the exploits of Charlemagne and Rol-
land, famous throughout Gaul. As he sung, he played with his
sword, throwing it up with force in the air, and receiving it again
in his right hand. The Normans joined in chorus, or cried God
be our help ! God be our help ! " * But surely all that is proved by
this, is, that the exploits of Charlemagne were popular in Gaul, and
" the song " founded on them was sung by a Norman at the battle
of Hastings ; but this is no proof that the subject was popular in
England. That the Normans,after their victory, would naturally at
tempt to introduce the songs of their country, is consistent with
probability ; but that the English would ever permanently receive
them is a very different matter. Indeed, in regard to Charle
magne and Rouland, the bitter recollection that their atchieve-
ments had been used as a means of animating their enemies at the
fatal battle of Hastings, would of itself render their very names
distasteful to the conquered. That the English deeply lamented
* Thierry's History of the Conquest of England by the Normans, Vol. I, p. 295.

viii PRELIMINARY REMARKS.
the national degradation, is a fact admitting of no dispute. Their
historians record the event " in a tone of dejection, which it is
difficult to transfuse. They call the day of the battle a day of
bitterness, — a day of death, — a day stained with the blood of the
brave. ' England, what shall I say of thee ? ' exclaims the Church
historian of Ely.' ' What shall I say of thee to our sons ? ' ' That
thou hast lost thy national King, and sinkest under the foreigner
bathed in the blood of thy defenders.' Long after the day of this
fatal conflict, patriotic superstition believed that its bloody traces
were still to be seen on the ground, which had drunk the blood of
the warriors of their country." *
That Charlemagne and his Peers formed the theme of tales re
cited in the Anglo-Norman Court, may be conceded. That poems
founded on their exploits, were sung in the halls of the Norman
Barons, may be admitted ; but that such Romances ever attained
any permanent footing in England, remains to be proved. Warton
and his editor correctly state, that the crusades afforded a source
from whence writers of fiction might draw new materials for their
fables ; and that they did so, is undeniable. Still these tales did
not supersede the old ones ; and Arthur and the Knights of the
Round Table, never for one moment lost their footing in the coun
try. In every shape their atchievements were sung, and alike
formed the subject of the bulky Romance, and the humble ballad,
— affording equal amusement to peer and peasant. National en
thusiasm kept the memory of the British hero alive, whilst, amongst
the great mass of the people, who, whether of Danish, Norman, or
Saxon ancestry, became gradually so thoroughly fused together, as to
loose all traces of their original descent, and to regard England as
* Thierry, p. 300.

PRELIMINARY REMARKS. ix
their " father land," and its heroes as theirs, no feeling of the kind
attaching to Charlemagne and his Peers, their exploits, in process
of time, would cease to be regarded with interest.
Upon the introduction of printing into England, Caxton, who
had just published the prose Romance of La Morte D' Arthur, gave
to the world a life of Charlemagne, translated from the French
Chronicles. This was a mere historical compilation, and was not
popular enough to be subsequently reprinted. The title is thus
given by Dr. Dibdin, in his new edition of the Typographical An
tiquities.* " The lyf of Charles the Great. Fynysshed in the reducyng of it
into englysshe the xviij day of Juyn, the second yere of kyng
Rychard the thyrd, and the yere of our Lord m.cccc.lxxxv, and
enprynted the fyrst day of Decembre the same yere of our Lord,
and the first yere of King Harry the seventh. Explicit per William
Caxton. Folio." Of this work the only copy known, formerly in
the King's Library, is with the rest of that magnificent collection
now in the British Museum.
The preface, which is very curious, contains the ensuing account
of the work : —
" Saynct Poul doctour of veryte sayth to vs that al thynges that
ben reduced by wrytyng, ben wryton to our doctryne. And Boece
maketh mencion that the helthe of euery persone procedeth dy-
uercely. Thenne sythe it is soo that the cristen feyth is affermed
and corroberted by the doctours of holy chyrche, neuertheles the
thynges passed dyuersly reduced to remembraunce, engendre in vs
correction of vnlawful lyf. For the werkes of the auncient and olde
peple ben for to gyue to vs ensaumple to lyue in good and vertuous
* Vol. I. p. 255. Lon. 1810. 4to.

x PRELIMINARY REMARKS.
operacions digne and worthy of helth in folowynge the good, and
eschewyng the euyl. And also in recountyng of hye hystoryes, the
comune vnderstondyng is better contente to the ymagynacion local
than to symple auctoryte,to which it is submysed. J saye this gladly,
for ofttymes J haue ben excyted of the venerable man, messire
henry bolomyer chanonne of lausanne for to reduce to his playsyr
somme hystoryes as wel in latyn & in romaunce, as in other facion
wryton, that is to say of the ryght puyssaunt, vertuous and noble
charles the grete, kyng of Frannce and emperour of Rome, sonn of
the grete Pypyn, and of his prynces & barons, as Rolland, Olyuer,
and other, touchyng somme werkes haultayne doon and comysed
by their grete strength and ryght ardaunt courage, and to the ex-
altacyon of the crysten fayth and to the confusyon of the hethen
sarazyns and myscreaunts, whiche is a werk wel contemplatyf for
to lyue wel. And by cause the sayd henry Bolomyer hath seen of
thys mater, and the hystoryes dysioyned withoute ordre, therfore
at his request after the capacyte of my lytel entendement, and
after thystoryes and mater that J haue founden J haue ordeyned
this book folowynge. And it myght soo haue ben that yf J had
been more largely enformed and al playn J had better made it,
for J haue not sayd ony matere, but J haue therof ben enformed, —
Fyrst by an autentyke book named myrrour hystoryal, as by the
canones and somme other bookes whiche make mencyon of the
werke folowyng, and by cause J may haue a lytel parte of hon
ourable foundement J shaltoucheof the first cristenkyng of fraunce,
For the moste parte of this book is made to thonour of the frenssh
men, and for prouffyte of euery man, and after the desyre of the
reder and herer, there shalle be founden in the table, all playne,
the mater of whiche the persone shal haue desyre to here or rede,
wythoute grete atedyacyon, by the playsyr of god to whome J

PRELIMINARY REMARKS. xi
submytte al myn entente to write no thyng that ought to be blam
ed, ne but that it be to the helthe & sauacion of euery persone.
" Thenne for as moche J late had fynysshed in enprynte the
book of the noble and vyctoryous kyng Arthur fyrst of the thre
mooste noble & worthy of crysten kynges, and also tofore had re
duced in to englisshe the noble hystory & lyf of Godefroy of boloyn
kyng of Jherusalem, last of the said iij worthys, somme persones
of noble estate and degree haue desyred me to reduce thystorye,
and lyf of the noble and crysten prynce Charles the grete kyng of
fraunce & emperour of Rome, the second of the thre wrorthy, to
thende that thystoryes, actes, and lyues may be had in our maternal
tongue lyke as they be in latyn or in frensshe. For the moost
quantyte of the people vnderstonde not latyn ne Frensshe, here in
this noble royame of England. And for to satysfye the desyre &
requeste of my good synguler lordes & specyal maysters and frendes
J haue enprysed and concluded in my self to reduce this sayd book
in to our englysshe, as all alonge and playnely ye may rede, here,
and see in thys book here followyng, besechyng al them that shal
fynde faute in the same to correcte and amende it. And also to
pardone me of the rude & symple reducyng, and though so be there
be no gaye termes, ne subtyl ne new eloquence, yet J hope that it
shal be vnderstonden & to that entente J haue specyally reduced
it, after the symple connyng that god hath lente to me, whereof J
humbly & wyth al my herte thanke hym, & also am bounden to
pray for my fader and moders soules, that in my youthe sette me
to scole, by whyche by the suffraunce of god J gete my lyuynge J
hope truly. And that J may so do & contynue J byseche hym to
graunte me of his grace, and so to laboure and occupy e my self ver-
tuously that J may come oute of dette & dedely synne, that after

xn PRELIMINARY REMARKS.
this lyf J may come to hys blysse in heuen AMEN." On the next
leaf begins a table of contents, which takes up three leaves.
At the end is this additional declaration : —
" And by cause J William Caxton was desyred & requyred by a
good and singuler frende of myn, Maister William daubeney, one
of the tresorers of the Jewellys of the noble & moost crysten kyng,
our naturel and souerayn lord late of noble memorye kyng Edward
the fourth on whos soule Jhesu haue mercy, to reduce all these
sayd hystoryes in to our englysshe tongue J haue put me in deuoyr
to translate thys sayd book as ye here to fore may see al a longe
and playn, prayeng all them that shal rede, see or here it, to par
don me of thys symple & rude translacyon and reducyng, bysech-
yng thym that shal fynde faute to correcte it, & in so doyng they
shal deserue thankynges, & J shal praye god for them, who bring
them and me after this short and transytory lyf to euerlasting
blysse, Amen : the whiche werke was fynysshed in the reducyng of
it to englysshe the xviij. of Juyn the second yere of kyng Ry chard
the thyrd. And the yere of our lord m cccc lxxxv. And en-
prynted the fyrst day of decembre the same yere of our lord & the
fyrst yere of kyng Harry the seventh. Explicit per William
Caxton." Caxton's declaration, that he had translated the life of Charle
magne to the end, " that the historie, acts, and lives may be had
in our maternal tongue," like as " they be in Latin or in French,"
may be referred to, as also supporting the assumption, that
Charlemagne and his Peers had long antecedently ceased to be
popular ; and that this was an attempt to bring them again into
notice, an object which could not be attained, so long as the ori
ginals were permitted to remain in Latin or French, neither of

PRELIMINARY REMARKS. xiii
which languages " the most quantitie of the people" " in this noble
royame of England" understood.
The Editor is, therefore, on the whole, very much inclined to
think, that whatever attractions the romances founded on the
atchievements of Charlemagne and his gallant supporters may have
possessed, either in the Anglo-Norman Court or amongst its follow
ers, they never obtained any permanent popularity in this country,
and that when the different races inhabiting England came to be
blended together, and all distinction of origin lost sight of, Arthur
and his knights of the Round Table fairly drove Charlemagne and
his " duzze Peers" out of the field. In France, on the other hand,
Charlemagne and his warriors had no rivals, and their memory
was too firmly rooted, to be affected by fictions, either ancient or
modern. It is, perhaps, hardly necessary to remind our readers,
that in Italy, Ariosto and Boiardo have made the name of Orlando*
immortal. Before concluding these somewhat desultory observations, it
is proper to mention, that in the original MS. various slight
errors occur. Thus, one of the Saracen warriors is called " Tura-
beles," " and some lines afterwards, we find him figuring as Cura-
beles." As it was by no means certain which of the two words
was the correct one, the variety of spelling was retained. Indeed,
in no instance has the Editor ventured to interfere with the text ;
and the very few corrections he has made, have all been carefully
pointed out by being enclosed in brackets.
Sir Otuel terminates, as before mentioned, abruptly, and the
next page commences with a fragment of the Romance of Alex-
* Need we mention, that the conqueror of Vernagu, and the lover of Angelica, are the same
persons ? The epitaph upon his death, occuring in Turpin, is No. II. of the Appendix.

xiv PRELIMINARY REMARKS.
ander. As it is very short, and has not been hitherto printed, it
has been inserted in the Appendix to these Remarks.*
Of the MS. volume in which the two romances are to be found,
the reader will find an account in the Appendix to Sir Walter
Scott's Introduction to Sir Tristrem, as well as a catalogue of its
contents.f It was presented to the Faculty of Advocates in 1744,
by Alexander Boswell of Auchinleck, one of the Lords of Council
and Session in Scotland, and father of the biographer of Johnson.
Of its former history, nothing is known. Whoever may have been
the compiler, it is evident, that the very curious and valuable
poetical remains which it records are exclusively English.
To Charles Kirkpatrick Sharpe, Esq. many thanks are due for
his extreme kindness in furnishing the spirited etchings, which
have been prefixed to each of these Romances.
* No. III.
t Scott's Poetical Works, vol. 5, p. 107, new edition, 12mo.

APPENDIX.

1.— DE BELLO FERRACUTI GIGANTIS, ET DE OPTIMA
DISPUTATIONE ROLANDI.*
Statimque nunciatum eft Carolo, quod apud Nageram, Gigas quidam nomine Ferra-
cutus de genere Goliad aduenerat, de oris Syriae, quem cum viginti millibus Turcorum
Babylonia Admiraldus ad bellandum Carolum regem miferat. Hie vero lanceam aut
fagittam non formidabat, vim quadraginta fortium pofiidebat. Quapropter Carolus ilico
Nageram adiit. Mox vt eius aduentum Ferracutus agnouit, egreflus ab vrbe, fingulare
certamen, fcilicet vnum militem contra alterum, petiit. Tunc mittitur ei primum a.
Carolo Ogerius Dacus : quem mox vt Gigas folum in campo afpexit, fuauiter iuxta
ilium vadit, et ilico eum brachio dextro cum omnibus amicis fuis amplexatus eft, et de-
portans ilium, cunftis videntibus, in oppidum fuum leuiter, quafi eflet vna mitiffima ouis.
Erat enim ftatura eius quafi cubiti duodecim, et facies eius longa quafi vnius cubiti, et
nafus vnius palmi menfurati, et brachia et crura eius quatuor cubiti erant, et digiti tribus
palmis. Deinde mifit ad eum caufa belli Carolus, Rainaldum de Alba Spina, et detulit
ilium folo brachio ilico in carcerem oppidi fui. Deinde mittitur Conftantinus rex Ro-
manus et Oellus comes, et ipfos, fimul vnum ad dexteram, et alium ad lseuam, carcere re-
trufit. Deinde mittuntur viginti pugnatores, fcilicet duo infimul feparatim, et illos
fimiliter carcere mancipauit. His itaque infpe&is, Carolus, cuncTis infuper admirantibus,
neminem poftea aufus eft mittere ad expugnandum eum. Rolandus tamen vix impetrata
licentia a rege, acceffit ad Gigantem bellaturus. At ille Gigas ilico rapuit eum fola
manu dextera, et mifit eum ante fe fuper equum fuum. • Cumque ilium portaret verfus
oppidum, refumptis viribus fuis, in Domino confifus arripuit eum per mentum, et ftatim
euertit eum retro fuper equum, et ceciderunt ambo fimul de equo proftrati folo : ftatim-
* Voterum Scriptorum, qui Caesarum et Imperatorum Germanicorum res per aliquot Secula Gestas, Uteris man-
darunt, Tomus unus. Hanoviee, 1619, folio, p. 75.

xvi DE BELLO FERRACUTI GIGANTIS,
que eleuantur a terra ambo pariter, et afcenderunt equos. Ilico Rolandus, fpatha pro
pria euaginata, Gigantem occidere putans, equum eius folo iftu per medium trucidauit.
Cumque Ferracutus pedes eflet, fpathamque euaginatam manu tenens ei nimias minas
intulifiet, Rolandus fua fpatha in brachio, quo fpatham fuam Gigas tenebat, ilium per
cuffit, et minime eum leefit, fed fpatham eius e manu excuffit. Tunc Ferracutus gladio
amiflo, percutere putans pugno claufo Rolandum, eius equum in frontem percuffit, et laefit,
et ftatim equus obiit. Denique fine gladiis pedites vfque ad nonam pugnis et lapidibus
debellarunt. Die aduefperante impetrabat treugas Ferracutus a Rolando vfque in craf-
tinum. Tunc difpofuerunt inter fe, vt die craftina in bello fine equis et lanceis ambo
conuenirent, et concefia pugna ex vtraque parte, vnufquifque ad proprium remeauit hof-
pitium. Craftina vero die, fummo diluculo feparatim venerunt pedites in campo belli, ficut
difpofitum fuerat : Ferracutus tamen fecum attulit fpatham, fed nihil ei valuit, quia Rolandus
baculum quendam retortum et longum fecum detulit, cum quo, tota die ilium percuffit, et
minime laefit eum. Percuffit eum cum magnis et rotundis lapidibus, quibus campus abun-
danter erat, vfque ad meridiem, illo tempore confentiente, fed eum nullo modo laedere po-
tuit. Tunc impetratis a Rolando treugis, Ferracutus fomno praegrauatus ccepit dormire :
Rolandus vero, vt erat iuuenis alacer, mifit lapidem ad caput eius, vt libentius dormiret.
Nullus enim Chriftianorum ilium tunc occidere audebat, nee ipfe Rolandus, nam talis erat
inter eos inftitutio : quod fi Chriftianus Saraceno, vel Saracenus Chriftiano daret treugas,
nullus ei iniuriam faceret ; et fi aliquis treugam datam ante diffidentiam frangeret, ftatim
interficeretur. Ferracutus itaque poftquam fatis dormiuit, euigilauit, et fedit iuxta eum
Rolandus, et ccepit eum interrogare, qualiter ita fortiffimus et dui-iffimus habebatur, quam
vt gladium aut lapidem aut baculum non formidabat. Vulnerari, inquit Gigas, non pofium
nifi per vmbilicum. Loquebatur ipfe lingua Hifpanica, quam Rolandus fatis intelligebat.
Tunc Gigas ccepit Rolandum adfpicere et interrogare eum, dicens : Tu autem quomodo
vocaris ? Rolandus, inquit, vocor. Cuius generis, inquit Gigas, es, qui fortiter me ex-
pugnas ? Francorum genere oriundus, inquit Rolandus, fum. At Ferracutus ait : Cuius
legis funt Franci ? Et Rolandus : Chriftianae legis Dei gratia fumus, et Chrifti imperiis
fubiacemus, et pro eius fide in quantum poffumus, decertamus. Tunc paganus audito
Chrifti nomine ait : Quis eft ille Chriftus, in quem credis ? Et Rolandus, Filius Dei
Patris, inquit, qui ex virgine nafcitur, cruce patitur, fepulchro fepelitur, et ab inferis
tertia die refufcitatur, et ad Dei Patris dexteram fuper ccelos regreditur. Tunc Fer
racutus, Nos credimus, inquit, quia creator cceli et terras vnus eft Deus, nee filium ha-
buit nee patrem : fed ficut a nullo generatus eft, ita neminem genuit : Ergo vnus eft
Deus, non trinus. Verum dicis, inquit Rolandus, quia vnus eft : fed cum dicis, Trinus
non eft, in fide claudicas. Si credis in Patrem, crede in Filio eius, et Spiritu fanfto

ET DE OPTIMA DISPUTATIONE ROLANDI. xvii
Ipse enim Deus Pater eft, Filius, et Spiritus fandtus eft, vnus Deus permanens in tribus
perfonis. Si Patrem, inquit Ferracutus, dicis efie Deum, Filium Deum, Spiritum fandtum
Deum : ergo tres Dii funt, quod abfit, et non vnus Deus. Nequaquam, inquit Rolandus, fed
vnum Deum et trinum praedico tibi, et vnus eft, et trinus eft. Tota? tres perfonae coaeter-
nae fibi funt et coaequales. Qualis Pater, talis Filius, talis Spiritus fandtus ; in perfonis
eft proprietas, in eflentia vnitas, et in maieftate adoratur asqualitas. Trinum Deum et
vnum angeli adorant in ccelis. Et Abraham tres vidit, et vnum adorauit. Hoc oftende,
inquit Gigas, qualiter tria vnum fint. Oftendam etiam tibi, inquit Rolandus, per hu-
manas creaturas : Sicut in cithara, cum fonat, tria funt, ars fcilicet, chordae, et manus,
et vna cithara eft ; fie in Deo tria funt, Pater, et Filius, et Spiritus fandtus, et vnus eft
Deus. Et ficut in amygdala tria funt, corium fcilicet, nucleus, et tefta, et vna tamen
amygdala eft : fie tres perfonae in Deo funt, et vnus Deus eft. In fole tria funt, candor,
fplendor, et calor, et tamen vnus fol eft. In rota plauftri tria funt, modius fcilicet, bra-
chia, et circulus, et tamen vna rota eft. In temetipfo tria funt, corpus fcilicet, membra,
et anima, et tamen vnus homo es. Sic in Deo et vnitas et trinitas efle perhibetur. Nunc
Ferracutus inquit, trinum Deum et vnum efie intelligo : fed qualiter Pater Filium ge-
nuit, ignore Credo, inquit Rolandus, quod Deus Adam fecit. Credo, inquit Gigas.
Quemadmodum, inquit Rolandus, Adam a nullo generatus eft, et tamen filios genuit :
fie Deus Pater a. nullo generatus eft, et tamen Filium ineifabiliter ante omnia tempora
diuinitus, prout voluit, genuit a femetipfo. Et Gigas, Placent, inquit, mihi quas dicis,
fed qualiter homo effedhis eft qui Deus erat, penitus ignoro. Ille, inquit Rolandus,
qui ccelum et terram et omnia creauit ex nihilo, ipfe fecit humanari Filium in virgine
fine femine humano, fed fpiratnine facro fuo. In hoc, inquit Gigas, laboro et qualiter
fine humano femine, vt afleris, nafcitur de virginis vtero. Et Rolandus ait : Deus qui
Adam fine femine alterius formauit, ipfe Filium fuum fine femine hominis de virgine
nafci fecit, et ficut de Deo Patre nafcitur fine matre, fie ex matre nafcitur fine homine
patre. Talis enim decet partus Deum. Valde, inquit Gigas, erubefco, quomodo vir-
go fine homine genuit. Ille, inquit Rolandus, qui fabae gurgulionem et arbori et glifci
facit gignere vermem, et multos pifces et vultures, et apes et ferpentes, fine mafculo fe
mine facit parere prolem, ipfe virginem intadtam abfque virili femine facit gignere
Deum et hominem. Qui primum hominem fine alterius femine, vt dixi, fecit, facile
potuit facere, vt Deus homo fadhis de virgine fine mafculo concubitu nafceretur. Bene,
inquit Ferracutus, poteft efle, quia de virgine natus fuit : fed fi Filius Dei fuit, nullate-
nus vt afleris, in cruce mori potuit. Nafci, vt dicis, potuit, fed fi Deus fuit, nequaquam
mori potuit ; Deus enim nunquam moritur. Bene, inquit Rolandus, dixifti, quia de vir
gine nafci potuit, ecce quia vt homo natus fuit. Si natus eft vt homo, igitur mortuus eft
c

xviii DE BELLO FERRACUTI GIGANTIS,&c.
vt homo, quia omnis qui nafcitur, moritur. Si credendum eft natiuitati, igitur creden
dum eft paffioni, fimul et refurredtioni. Quomodo, inquit Ferracutus, credendum eft
refurredtioni ? Quia, inquit Rolandus, is qui nafcitur, moritur ; et qui moritur, tertia
die viuificatur. Tunc Gigas, audito verbo, miratus eft multum, dixitque ei, Rolande
cur tot verba inania profers ? Impoffibile eft, vt homo mortuus, denuo ad vitam refur-
gat. Non folum, inquit Rolandus, Dei filius a mortuis refurrexit, verum etiam omnes
homines qui fuere ab initio vfque ad finem, funt refurredturi ante eius tribunal et accep-
turi meritorum fuorum ftipendia, prout geffit vnufquifque fiue bonum, fiue malum.
Ipfe Deus qui modicam arborem in fublime crefcere fecit, et granum frumenti mor-
tuum in terra putrefadtum reuiuifcere, crefcere ac frudtificare facit, ille cundtos pro
pria carne et fpiritu de morte ad vitam refufcitabit in die nouifiimo. Leonis myfticam
tibi afiume. Si die tertia leo catulos fuos mortuos anhelitu fuo viuificat, quid mirum fi
Deus Pater, Filium fuum die tertia a mortuis refufcitauit ? nee nouum tibi debet videri,
fi Dei Filius ad vitam rediit, cum multi mortui ante eius refurredtionem ad vitam re-
dierint. Si Helias et Elifaeus facile defundtos refufcitarunt, facilius Deus Pater ilium re
fufcitauit : facile a mortuis refurrexit, a. morte nullatenus teneri potuit, ante cuius con-
fpedtum mors ipfa fugit, ad cuius vocem mortuorum phalanx refurrexit Tunc Ferra
cutus, fatis, inquit, cerno quae dicis, fed qualiter ccelos penetrauit, vt dixifti, prorfus
ignoro. Ille, inquit Rolandus, qui de ccelis defcendit, polos facile afcendit : qui facile
per femetipfum refurrexit, facile polos penetrauit. Exempla multarum rerum tibi
fume : vides rotam molendini quantum ad ima de fuperis defcendit, tantum de infimis
ad fublimia afcendit. Auis volans in aere quantum defcendit, tantum afcendit. Tu
ipfe, fi forte de quodam defcendifti monte, bene potes iterum redire vnde defcendifti.
Sol ab Oriente heri furrexit, et ad Occidentem occubuit, et hodie fimiliter in eodem loco
furrexit. Vnde ergo filius Dei venit, illuc rediit. Tali igitur padto, inquit Ferracutus,
tecum pugnabo ; quod fi vera eft haec fides quam afleris, ego vidtus fim ; et fi mendax
eft, tu vidtus fis ; et fit genti vidtae iugiter approbrium, vidtori autem laus et decus in
aeuum. Fiat, inquit Rolandus, idcirco bellum ex vtroque corroboratur, et ilico Rolan
dus paganum aggreditur. Tunc Ferracutus eiecit idtum fpatha fua fuper Rolandum, fed
ipfe Rolandus fubfiliit ad laeuam, et accepit idtum fpathae in baculo fuo. Interea abfciflb
baculo Rolandi, irruit in eum et ipfe Gigas, et ilium arripiens leuiter inclinauit fubter fe
ad terram. Statim agnouit Rolandus, quod tunc nullo modo euadere poterat, ccepit
igitur implorare auxilium filii beatas Marias virginis, et erexit fe Deo iuuante paulatim, et
reuoluit eum fubter fe, et adiunxit manum fuam ad mucronem eius, et punxit eius parum-
per vmbilicum, et euafit. Tunc alta voce ccepit Deum fuum Gigas inuocare, dicens :
Mahumeth, Mahumeth, Deus meus, fuccurre mihi, quia iam morior. Et ftatim ad hanc

DE NOBILITATE ET MORIBUS ROLANDI. xix
vocem accurrentes Saraceni fuftulerunt eum,portantes manibus verfus oppidum. Rolandus
vero iam incolumis ad fuos redierat, et ftatim Chriftiani vna cum Saracenis qui Ferra-
cutum deferebant in oppidum, vrbem violento impetu ingrediuntur. Sicque Gigante
perempto, vrbs et caftra capiuntur, et pugnatores a carcere eripiuntur.

II.— DE NOBILITATE ET MORIBUS ROLANDI. *

Non decet hunc igitur vacuis deflere querelis,
Quem laetum fummi nunc tenet aula poli.
Nobilis antiqua decurrens prole parentum,
Nobilior geftis nunc fuper aftra manet.
Egregius, nulli de nobilitate fecundus,
Moribus excellens, culmine primus erat.
Templorum cultor, recreans modulamine ciues,
Vulneribus patrias fida medela fuit.
Spes cleri, tutor viduarum, panis egentum,
Largus pauperibus, prodigus hofpitibus.
Sic venerabilibus templis, fie fudit egenis,
Mitteret vt ccelis quas fequeretur opes.
Dogmata corde tenens plenus velut area libellus,
Quifquis quid voluit fonte fluente bibit.
Confilio fapiens, animo pius, ore ferenus,
Omnibus vt populis eflet amore parens.
Culmen honoratum, decus almum, lumen opimum,
Laudibus in cuius militet omne decus.
Pro tantis meritis hunc ad cceleftia vedtum,
Non premit vrna rogi, fed tenet aula Dei.
* Veterura Seriptorum, qui Caesarum et Imperatorum Germanicorum res per aliquot Secula Gestas, literas tnan-
darunt, Tomus unus. Hanoviae, 1619, folio, p. 84.

xx FRAGMENT OF THE

III— FRAGMENT OF THE ROMANCE OF ALEXANDER.

Kandidus wroth went oway,
And no com ogain nought manie aday.
Tho the cloth was y-drawe,
The waite gan aflegel blawe.
Alefaunder and Candace,
To chaumber token her pas.
So we finden on the boke,
That night the king his leue toke.
He went to Ynde to his barouns,
Bi wodes, bi dales, and bi tounes ;
Leue he had with morninge,
And went forth in the daweinge,
Bi an heghe way that he kneu,
Til that he com to Tholomeu.
He was welcome mani lithe,
Alle his oft was wel blithe,
Tho thai hadde of him fight.
No bileued he bot onight,
Amorwe he went with outen afoigne,
To the gret Babilonie.
Antiogus hadde the form gard,
Tholomeu the rereward,
And Alifander, that riche fire,
Pafleth Perce and ek Affire,
To Babiloine ; for men teld,
Darries trefour was therin held,
Membrot firft a geaunt fel,
Made Babiloine, and ek Babel :
Ac he no might for God Almight,
Fullich out it dight.
For ther fel firft for his vtrage,
Lxii diuers language :

ROMANCE OF ALEXANDER. xxi
Seththen a leuedi Amiramis,
Alayd his boft and al his pris,
And wan the cite with al the honour.
And xv kingriches tut entour.
The cite is, fo figgeth men,
Bitven Tigre and Affraten,
An hundred pas is heighe the wal,
And an hundred gates al of metal.
Alifaunder of his regioun,
Thought ther make the maifter toun :
Into alle the warld he fent menage,
And doth arere newe tallage.
On kinges, doukes, princes, erls,
On barouns, knightes, fquiers, and cherls,
And doth gader oft fo gret,
Seththen was neuer non fwiche yet.
For he thought to Aufrike wende,
After in the fomer hende.
Ac him was y-fent a fond.
Of amftife of his lond :
Antipater was his name,
Mani man he hadde do fchame,
The lond folk beden the kinge,
Of him make remuuinge.
The king him dede quic depofe,
With harm to his owen nofe,
For Antipater is to court y-fent,
Now hereth the kinges encumbrement.
In this warld falleth mani cas,
Gidi blefTand fchort folas !
Ypomodon and Pallidamas,
And Abfalon that fo fair was,
Thai liueden here a litel ras,
Ac fone for yeten ich fo was.
The leuedis fchene, al fo the glas,
And thes maidens, with rudi fas,

xxii FRAGMENT OF THE
Pafleth fone, fo flour in gras !
So ftrong no fair ner non nas,
That he no fchal pafle with alias !
Anentour fo hath turned his pas,
Ogaines the king and rered mas,
That vnder ftondeth Olimpias,
And fendeth to Alifaunder bi has,
That he him war in all wife,
Fram Antipater his juftife.
And Antipater vnder ftondeth wel,
The king is feloun and cruwel,
Adred he is, he is wode neighe,
Ac gif he is of art fleighe.
Hou fo it euer be,
The king it fchal abigge, or he.
Venim he tempreth with win,
The win hete Eleborin ;
In this warld abouen erthe,
Nis win of fo miche werthe.
To the king he it hath y-fent,
The king afketh drink of that prefent,
Men brought it him in a coupe of gold,
The king drank other than he fchold.
Oway he threwe that gold red,
" Alias, Alias, Icham dede,
Drink no fchal neuer eft more,
Don to this warld fo michel fore,
So this drink hath y-do ;
Alias, Alias, what me is wo,
For mi moder Olimpias,
And for mi fofter that fo fair was,
And for mi barouns, al thing aboue,
That Ich meft in hert loue,
Thai be lordles, and Icham ded,
Thurch a traitour fals red.
What helpeth it lenger y-teld,
The theues prefent me hath aqueld,

ROMANCE OF ALEXANDER. xxiii
No man that wil this day pafle,
No drink ther of more no lafle."
With that word he gan to fwough,
About him com barouns anough,
And token him vp in her arm,
And biwepen fore his harm.
Ther men might reuthe y-fen,
Mani baroun her here to ten.
Mani feft y-wrong and hant,
And mani riche robe rant.
Much el defray, muchel gredeing,
Michel wope, michel 'wailing ;
Oft bimene his pruefle,
His yingthe and his hardinifle,
His gentilirs, his curteifie,
Al thai gunnen aloude crie,
Opon Alifaunder, that nam that was,
Crid mani " alias, alias."
Riche and pouer, lefle and more,
Wrong honden and wepe fore.
To mile abouten, men mighten here,
Of gentil men that rewely here.
The king reuerted in this gredeinge,
And gaf hem al comfortinge,
And feyd, " bringeth me to bed mine,
And er Ich in this warld fine,
Ichil biquethe mi guide,
To alle tho that han ben me mide,"
He was y-brought to bed anon,
The barouns ftoden about him ichon.
" Lordinges," he feyd, " of this cuntray,
Of Tyre, of Mede, and Sydoney,
That han wide y-ferued me,
And for me in miche wo be,
Rentes, londes, fo Ich founde,
Ogain Ich you yeld hole and founde,

xxiv FRAGMENT OF THE
And Ich a thoufand pounde and more,
Your harmes for to aftore.
O bele ami, fir Perdicas,
For mi loue in mani cas
Thou haft y-thold, and mani ftriif,
And trewe ben in al thi liif,
Y the biquethe Grece, min hiritage,
Corinthe, Mafidoine, and Cartage,
Tebes and al tho other londes,
Kepe mi moder and awreke mi fchond.
Tholomeu mi marchal,
Thou fchalt haue Portugal,
And Egypt to Flimuordon,
For better baroun no Hues non.
Antioge oftage bi dome,
Thou fchalt haue riche Rome,
And al Romaine and Lombardie ;
For thou hem cauft as baroun gye.
Aymes of Archade, fo God me afoile,
Thou fchalt haue Calabre and Poile,
And the riche lond of Labour,
And be Antioge neigh ebour.
Tiberie, with flefche hardi,
Thou fchalt haue the lond of Sulie,
Acres, Japhes, and Jerufalem,
And Nazaret and Bedelem,
And al the lond of Galile,
Quicliche bi quethe y the.
Marke of Rome, bel ami,
Efclauoie that is fo fri,
Thou fchalt haue, and Coftentine noble,
And Limochious that lond fo noble,
And Griffaine that riche pece,
That lith to the lond of Grece.
Philot thou fchalt haue Caucafus,
And alle the lond to Mallenus,
And al the lond of Cafpias,
To the riche cite of Baudas,

ROMANCE OF ALEXANDER. xxv
And alle the idles of Taproban,
That Ich of Porrus the king wan.
Samfon of Emufe for min amour,
Thou haft y-thold mani dolour.
Thou fchalt haue al Albienne,
And Armenie in to the fenne,
And Orcanie and newe Alifaunder,
Mi riche cite and newe of fclaunder.
Salome, feththen, Darri was ded,
Thou haft me ferued in mani red,
In ich feruife wel redi,
Trewe in bataile and hardy,
Thou fchalt haue Perce and Mede,
And Babiloine that riche thede.
Darries blod for thou art next,
Wight and gentil and ek heigheft.
Darries air, Y make the,
And fefe the with al his fe.
This venim crepeth vnder mi ribbe,
No may Ich no lenger libbe"
In al this ich gret dolour,
He dede feche al his trefour,
And gaue to knight, fwain, and knaue,
So michel fo thai wolden haue,
Of hors, of clothes, of filuer wone,
He made hem riche euerichon.
And right alfo he hadde y-do,
The liif he lete of bodi go,
Ac no man in foth treuthe,
No feighe neuer fo michel reuthe,
Of wope, of cri, of hond wringing,
So was for Alifaunder the king.
Now the king is out of this Hue,
Quic arifeth wel gret ftriue,
For the bodis biriinge,
After the forwe and criing.

XXVI

FRAGMENT OF THE

Salome feith with al fare
He wil his bodi biri thare.
Ac haue him wold thedouke Samfoun,
To Alifaunder his riche toun.
Philote alfo y finde,
Him chalanges in to Ynde.

" barouns lete
And doth Godes heft beliue,
Of his biriing no think no redeth,
Ac in to Egypt him ledeth,
Into Alifaunder that cite apert,
That he made in defert,
Tho he deftroid the vermine,
Quic doth heft mine."

So the foule went of fight,
The barouns dede fo it hight,
That bodi richeliche thai kept,
And ledden it in to Egypt,
And laiden him in gold fin,
In a temple of Apolin,
Nift men neuer hethen king,
Haue fo riche biriing.
Tholomeu hath the faifin,
God ous leue with to fin.
Tho the king was bi delue,
Ich douke went to him felue,

ROMANCE OF ALEXANDER. xxvii
And maden wo and contek anough.
Ich of hem neighe other flough,
For to haue the kinges guide,
Michel batail was hem midde.
Thus it farth in the midlerd,
Among the lewed and lerd,
When that heued is y-falle,
Acombred beth the membres alle,
Thus endeth Alifaunder the king,
God ous graunt his blufeing. Amen.

See Weber's Metrical Romances, Vol. I. Edin. 1810. Crown 8vo, P. 316, for another Version of
this Poem.

©)£ Romance ot

mottlanU ana WLtm&m-

ROULAND AND VERNAGU.

For he it feighe with fight,
Now bigin ichil of him,
Of Charls that was flout and grim,
And tel you al that right.
An hundred winter it was and thre,
Sethen God dyed opon the tre,
That Charls the King
Had al Fraunce in his hond,
Danmark and Inglond,
Withouten ani lefing,
Lorein and Lombardye,
Gascoun, Bayoun, and Pikardye,
Was til his bidding ;
And emperour he was of Rome,
And lord of al Chriftendome,
Than was he an heighe lording.

2 ROULAND AND VERNAGU.
In that time he was an emperour
In Coftentin of gret honour,
Conftanfious he hight ;
God he loued and alle his,
And hated hem that dede amis,
With al his might.
In Speyn, tho ther was a king,
A stern man withouten lefing,
That werred ogain the right,
Ebrahim was his name,
Wide sprong his riche fame,
He was a doughti knight.
Alle that leued in Godes lawe,
He lete hem bothe hong and drawe,
Tho that he might of take ;
And the patriark of Ierufalem
Out of lond he dede him flem,
Al for Godes fake.
The patriarke was ful wiis,
And to themperour he went Y wis,
His mone for to make,
Hou the king Ebrahim
Out of lond exiled him,
With michel wer and wrake.
King Costance themperour
Made fwithe gret dolour
For this tidinges,
Ihefu Chrift bifought he,
Almighti God in trinite,
King of al kinges,

ROULAND AND VERNAGU. 3
He fende him grace him to flo,
That had y-wrought fo michel wo,
And flawe Godes ginges,
And fone fo he had the bon y-bede,
An angel light doune in that ftede,
And this bode him bringes.
The angel feyd to themperour,
Wele the greteth thi saueour
Ihesu, ful of might,
And bit the fende with michel anour,
After Charls the conquerour,
He is a douhti knight.
He fchal the help in batayl,
And fie the farrazin withouten fail,
That doth ogain the right.
Themperour was glad and blithe,
And thonked God fele fithe,
His hert nas neuer fo light.
Four the beft he fent of hem,
That on hight Dauid of Ierufalem,
And Samuel also,
Ion of Naples was another,
Ysac hight the ferth brother,
Thider he gan go.
He went to the palais of Rome,
And bifor fir Charli come
And told him of her wo ;
Thai toke him the letter and kift his hand,
Swiche was the lawe of the land,
And fchal ben euer mo.

ROULAND AND VERNAGU.
Charls wepe for that dede,
When he herd the letter rede,
And hete an heigheing,
Al that might armes bere,
Kniif or fcheld, fwerd or fpere,
Men fhuld bifor him bring.
Thai bulked hem and made hem yare,
To Coftentin for to fare,
Withouten any lefing.
Themperour was glad Y wis,
And vnderfenge with miche blis,
Sir Charls the king.
Riche iuels withouten lefing,
Sir Coftance the king
Bifor Sir Charls he brought ;
Sauage beftes for the nones,
Gold and filuer, and rich ftones,
Ac therof nold he nought.
He bifought him of more honour,
Of Ihefu our faueour,
That al this warld hath wrought,
That he on fuffred paffioun,
Of the croice and of the croun,
Therof he him bifought.
Themperour his wil dede,
And ladde him to the holy fbede,
There the relikes ware ;
Ther com fwiche a fwete odour,
That neuer yete fo fwete fauour,
No feld thai neuer are ;

ROULAND AND VERNAGU.
Of the final that was fo fwote,
Thre hundred like hadde her bote, .
And caft were out of care.
Than brought thai forth the holy croun,
And the arme of feyn Simoun,
Biforn hem alle thare.
And a parti of the holy crofs,
That in a cryftal was don in clos,
And Godes clotheing.
Our leuedi fmok that hye had on,
And the yerd of Araon,
Forth thai gun bring,
And a fpere long and fmert,
That Longys put to Godes hert,
He gaf Charls the king ;
And a nail long and gret
That was y-driue thurch Godes fet,
Withouten ani lefing.
When Charls had refeiued that thing,
He bifought Ihefu, heuen king,
To fend him might and fpace,
For to wite the fothe there,
Yif the relikes verray were,
Er he thennes pafe.
Than decended a lightneffe,
Doun rightes fram the heuen blis,
In that ich place,
That thai wenden alle Y wis,
Thai hadde ben in Paradys,
So ful it was of grace.

6 ROULAND AND VERNAGU.
Thai tok leue at themperour,
And thonked him of gret honour,
And to Aife in Gafcoyn went ;
Ther he duelled fiker aplight,
So he biheld opon a night,
Vp to the firmament,
A way of fterres he feighe Y wis,
Out of Spaine into Galis,
As red as brond that brent.
He bifought God in trinite
To fende him grace wite wat it be,
With wel gode entent.
And in the thought that he was in,
Ther com a voice, and fpac to him,
With a mild fteuen,
lames the apostel bi Crist,
Iones brother, the wangelift,
Godes deciple of heuen,
That God bad prechy on the fe,
F or thi Herodes lete me fie,
Therof Y the neuen,
Mi body lith in Galis,
Biyond Speyne for foothe Y wis,
Jurnays mo than feuen.
For thi me wondreth withouten fail,
That thou comeft nought to do batayl,
That lond for to winne,
And gif thou winnes that lond Y wis,
Y fchal the bring in to that blis,
Ther Ich woni inne.

ROULAND AND VERNAGU.
Al that me feketh more and lefle,
Schal haue foryeuenes
Of her dedeli finne.
Now wende and do as Y the fede,
And in batayl thou fchalt fpede,
When thou it will biginne.
The way of fterres bitokneth Y wis,
That of Spaine and of Galis
Thou fhalt be conquerer ;
Lorain and, Lombardye,
Gafcoyne, Bayoun, and Pikardye,
Schal be in thi pouwer.
Thus com the Apoftel lames,
Thries to Charls, and feyd this,
That was fo ftoute and fer.
Now wendeth Charls with his oft
Into Speyne with michel bost,
As ye may forward here.
The firft cite was Pampiloun,
That was a fwithe noble toun,
That Charls gan afayl ;
And fax monethes he it bilay aplight,
That nothing winne he it no might,
For al his batayle.
For the walles fo ftrong were,
He no might haue non entre there
Withouten ani fayl,
Ther were mani ftrong gines,
And fele thoufand of farazines,
Swithe heyghe of parail.

8 ROULAND AND VERNAGU.
Than praid Charls to God of heuen,
Lord, he feyd, here mi fteuen,
Aftow art ful of might,
Sende me grace this cite to winne,
And fie the farrazins her inne,
That don ogain the right.
Tho felle the walles of the cite,
Charls entred with his meyne,
Als a douhti knight,
And thurch the miracle that was there,
Ten thousand farrazins criftned were,
In that ich night.
And tho that nold nought cristned be,
He lete hem hong opon a tre,
Er he thennes pafe.
Thus Charls thurch Spayn gan gon,
And wan the cites euerichon,
Al thurch Godes grace.
Where he com in ani erd,
Ich man was of him aferd,
That loked on his face.
The names of eueri cite
That he wan, Y fchal tel ye
Er Ich hennes pafe.
Vifim, Lameche, and Sumy,
Colomuber, Luche, and Vrry,
Brakare and Vimaraile,
Compoftel, a cite grete,
Aurelian and Tullet,
That ftrong is to afayl ;

ROULAND AND VERNAGU. 9
Golddelfagar and Salamencha,
Vline, Canayls, Madris, alfwa
Calatorie and Leftoyl,
Medinacel, an heighe cite,
Segouus the grete, and Salamenche,
Gramie and Sturgel,
Godian and Emerite,
Bours in Spaine, that nis nought lite,
A fwithe noble toun ;
Nafers and Mathed,
Carion and Vrpaled,
And Oche of gret renoun ;
Burbagalle, a caftel also,
Coftant, Petros, and other mo,
Bayet and Pampiloun,
Ventos in the grenn vale,
Caparre, Euftorge, and Entale,
Gafcoine and Bayoun,
Toutor, a ftrong caftel,
Landulif and Portingal,
Burnam and Saragouns,
Granad and Satyne,
Coftaunce and Deine,
Teragon and Valouns,
Leride, Acoun, and Siuile,
Charls wan in a while,
Agabie and Vrens,
Quaramelide, Gibalderie,
Barbafter, Vice, and Almarie,
Agavie and Sifens.

10 ROULAND AND VERNAGU.
Acoun, that Y fpak of ere,
Seyn lames deciple lith there,
That hat feyn Torquas ;
A fwithe fair oliif tre
Befide his toumbe men may fe,
That fpringeth thurch Godes grace ;
Opon his feft in midmay,
Ther on is front of gret noblay,
Bothe more and laffe ;
And who that feketh hem verrament,
At the day of iuggement,
Schal fe Godes face.
Alle the londes that were in Spayne,
With dint of fwerd wan Charlmain,
Portingale and Lauers ;
Landuluf and Chattel,
Bigaires, Bastles, and londes fele,
Moys and Nauers.
Alle the londes he wan yern,
Til he com to Lucern,
So flout he was and fers,
And tvelmoneth he it bilay aplight,
And nothing win he it might,
For al his duffe pers.
Tho preyd Charls to God abone,
That he him fent grace fone,
The cite for to winne.
Tho fel the walles adoun rightes,
King Charls entred with his knightes,
Thurch that ich ginne ;

ROULAND AND VERNAGU. 11
Charls accurfed that cite,
And Ventos, and Caparre, and Deneye,
For her dedelie finne ;
Deferd thai were after than,
That neuer feththen no Criften man,
No durfl com ther inne.
For Charls curfsed tho Lucern,
Alfo tite the toun ganbern,
And fchal don ever mo ;
And of the fmot of that toun,
Mani taketh ther of pufefoun,
And dyeth in michel wo :
And ther the other thre cites ftode,
Beth waters red of helle node,
And fifches therin al bio ;
And who that wil nought leue me,
In Spaine men may the fothe y-fe,
Who that wil thider go.
And while Charls was in that ftede,
A fair miracle God for him dede,
Er he gan thennes wende ;
Braunches of vines Charls sett,
In Marche moneth withouten lett,
As was the right kende ;
And amorwe grapes thai bere,
Red and ripe to kerne there,
For paners thai gun fende ;
And for paners thai crid tho,
Yet men clepeth the cite so,
And fchal to the warldes ende.

12 ROULAND AND VERNAGU.
Clodonius the first Cristen king,
And Clotayrs withouten lesing,
King Dagabers and Pipin,
Won mani tounes in Spaine,
Ac the gode Charlmain,
Wan it al with gin :
Alle the maumetes in Spaine were,
That were the Sarrazins leue and dere,
King Charls and Turpin,
Thai deftroyd thurch Godes might,
Sum thurch miracle and fum thurch fight,
So feyt the Latin.
And an image of gret poufte,
Stode on a roche bi the fe,
In the gilden lond ;
His name was Salanicodus,
As a man y-fchapen he wes,
And helde a glaive an hond,
Mahoun maked him with gin,
And dede mani fendes ther in,
As Ich vnderftond,
For to fuften the ymage,
And fett him on heighe ftage,
For no man nold he wond.
The face of him was turned fouthe right,
In her lay the Sarrazins founde aplight
Of Iubiter and Mahoun ;
That when y-born were the king,
That fchuld Spaine to Criflen bring,
The ymage fchuld falle adoun ;

ROULAND AND VERNAGU. 13
Charls dede that ymage falle,
And wan in Spaine the cites alle,
Bothe tour and toun ;
And with the trefor that he wan there,
Mani a chirche he lete arere,
That was of gret renoun.
The firft chirche for foth Y wis,
Was feyn lames in Galis,
That he lete arere,
With an hundred chanouns and her priour,
Of feynt Yfador the confeflbur,
For to ferui there :
And in Aife a chapel,
Of lim and fton y- wrought ful wel,
Of werk riche and dere,
And feyn lames at Burdewes,
And on at Tolous, another at Anevaus,
And mo as ye may here.
Charls duelled fiker aplight,
Thre mones and fourten night,
In Bayoun with his oft,
Ther fel a miracle of a knight,
Wiche that was to deth y-dight,
Thurch the holy gost ;
Sir Romain for fothe he hight,
Er he dyd he hadde his right,
Withouten ani boft ;
On of his frendes he cleped him to,
Y fchal dye it is fo,
Ful wele thou it woft.

14 ROULAND AND VERNAGU.
Mine clothes that Ichaue,
Ther with that Y be brought in graue,
With mete and drink and light,
And fel min hors on heigheing,
Pouer clerkes fauters to fing,
Ther to that it be dight ;
And when he hadde y-feyd thus ftille,
Alfo it was Godes wille,
Than died the knight,
The hors was feld withouten duelinges,
For to hundred fchillinges,
And put it up aplight.
And at the nende of thritti night,
To his feketour com the ded knight,
And feyd in this maner,
Mi foule is in heuen blis,
For the loue of min almis,
That Y sett here ;
And for thou haft at hold min,
Thritti days Ichaue ben in pin,
That wel ftrong were,
Paradis is graunted me,
And in that pain thou fchalt be,
That Ich was in ere.
The ded thus in his way went,
And he awaked verrament,
And wonder hadde aplight ;
And amorwe his fweuen he told,
To erls and to barouns bold,
To fquiers and to knight,

ROULAND AND VERNAGU. 15
And amonges hem alle,
As thai floden in the halle,
Ther com a windes flight,
And fele fendes that were fwift,
And beren him vp in to the lift,
And held him there four night.
Seriaunce the bodi fought,
Ac thai no might it finde nought,
Four dayes no more.
Fro Bayoun he went with his oft,
And thurch Nauern with miche bofl,
The bodi thai founde thore,
Ther the fendes had let him felle,
And bere his foule in to helle,
To hard paines fore.
So fchal eueri sekatour,
The dedes gode abigge wel four,
That hye binimeth the pore.
No late we be of this thing,
And fpeke of Charles the king,
That michel was of might,
Of his lengthe and of his brede,
As the Latin ous fede,
Ichil you rede aright ;
Tventie fete he was o lengthe,
And alfo of gret ftrengthe,
And of a flern fight,
Blac of here and rede of face,
Whare he com in ani place,
He was a douhti knight.

16 ROULAND AND VERNAGU-
Four times in the yere,
On his heued he bere,
The holy croun of thorn,
At Efter, at Wiflentide,
And at feyn lames day with pride,
And in Yole as God was born.
And atte the mete in the halle,
Among his knightes alle,
A drawe fwerd him biforn,
This was the maner ay,
And fchal be til domesday,
Of emperour y-corn.
And whare he flepe anight,
Wel wile he was and wight,
And douted of trefoun,
An hundred knightes him kept,
That non of hem no flept,
That were of gret renoun,
And eueri dughti knight
Held a torche light,
And a naked fauchoun.
Thus king Charls lay,
With his oft mani a dai,
In the cite of Pampiloun.
And on a day com tiding,
Vnto Charls the king,
Al of a doughti knight,
Was comen to Nafers :
Stout he was and fers,
Vernagu he hight ;

ROULAND AND VERNAGU. 17
Of Babiloun the soudan
Thider him fende gan,
With king Charls to fight,
So hard he was to fond,
That no dint of brond,
No greued him aplight.
He hadde tventi men ftrengthe,
And fourti fet of lengthe,
Thilke panim hede,
And four fet in the face,
Y-meten in the place,
And fiften in brede,
His nofe was a fot and more,
His browe as breftles wore,
He that it feighe it fede,
He loked lotheliche,
And was fwart as piche,
Of him men might adrede.
Charls com to Nafers
With his duffe pers,
To fe that painim.
He afked withouten fayl,
Of king Charls batayl,
To fight againes him :
Charles wonderd tho,
When he feighe him go,
He biheld him ich alim,
For feththen he was y-bore,
He no hadde y-fen bifore,
Non that was fo grim.

18 ROULAND AND VERNAGU.
Sir Oger the Danais,
A knight ful curtays,
To him firft was y-fent ;
And at his coming,
Vernagu an heygheing,
Vnder his arm him hent,
Y-armed as he was,
He toke him in the plas,
And to the caftel he went :
Sir Oger fchamed fore,
Him o thought that com thore,
And held him foule y-fchent.
Reynald de Aubethpine
Was fent to that farrazin,
He ferued him alfo ;
And feyd to Charlmain,
Sir, tho thou won Spain,
Hadeftow non better tho,
So Mahoun me yine reft,
O yam ten fwiche the beft,
To fight Ich wold go.
Sir Coftentin of Rome,
And therl of Nauntes come,
To fight with bothe to,
And Vernagu bar bothe,
No were thai neuer fo wrothe,
To Naffer's caftel,
Vnder aither arm on,
As ftille as ani fton,
Might thai nought with him mele.

ROULAND AND VERNAGU. 19
Tho Charls fent ten,
Also he ferued his men,
Might no man with him dele.
Charls bithought tho,
Yif he fent mo,
It were him wrother hele.
Roland the gode knight,
Tho bad leue to fight,
Ogain that painim,
King Charls feyd nay,
Thou no fhalt nought bi this day,
He is to flout and grim.
So long he him bad,
That leue of him he hadde,
Rouland armed him,
And com anon right
Into the feld, to fight
Ogain that farrazin.
And at his coming thare,
Sir Vernagu was ware,
And tok him vnder his hond,
Out of his fadel he gan him bere,
And on his hors fwere,
He fet Roulond,
And Rouland fmot him fo,
That Vernagu tho,
Vnto the grounde wond,
And when the criften feighe this,
That Vernagu fallen is,
Thai thonked Godes sond.

20 ROULAND AND VERNAGU.
Thai lopen opon her ftede,
And fwerdes out thai brede,
And fight thai gun tho,
Rouland with Durindale,
Brewe him miche bale,
And carf his hors ato :
When Vernagu was o fot,
He no couthe no better, bot
To Rouland he gan go,
In the heued he fmot his ftede,
That ded to grounde he yede,
O fot than were thai bo.
A fot thai tok the fight,
And Vernagu anon right,
His fwerd he had y-lore,
Rouland with al his might,
He ftired him as a knight,
And yaf him dintes fore,
Til it was ogain the none,
Thus thai layd opon,
Ay til thai weri wore :
Douk Rouland fone he fond,
That with no dint of brond,
He flough him neuer more.
When it com to the neue,
Vernagu bad leue,
To reften of that fight :
Rouland him trewthe yaf,
So he moft bring a ftaf,
After his wil y-dight ;

ROULAND AND VERNAGU. 21
Vernagu graunted wel,
And went to her hoftel
When that was night.
Amorwe withouten fail,
Thai com to the batayl,
Aither as doughti knight.
Sir Rouland brought a ftaf
That king Charls him yaf,
That was long and newe,
The bodi of a yong oke,
To yif ther with a ftroke,
He was tough and trewe.
And with that gode ftaf,
Wel mani dintes he yaf,
Vernagu the fchrewe,
And at the non aplight,
Thai gun another fight,
And ftones togider threwe.
Gode rappes for the nones,
Thai yauen with the ftones,
That fete fwithe fore ;
That helme and heye targe,
Thurch her ftrokes large,
Ther with thai broken wore.
And Vernagu at that cas,
So fore afleped was,
He no might fight no more
At Rouland leue he toke,
That time fo feyt the boke,
For to flepe thore.

22 ROULAND AND VERNAGU.
Roland yaf leue him,
For to flepe wele afin,
And reft him in that flounde,
And feyd that he nold,
For the cite ful of gold
Be ther with y-founde,
Slepeand to flen a knight,
Thei that he had in fight,
Yif him dethes wounde,
Tho Vernagu lay adoun,
To flepe he was boun,
There opon the grounde.
And Vernagu rout thore,
As a wild bore,
Tho he on flepe was :
To him Rouland gan gon,
And tok the greteft fton
That lay in that place,
He leyd vnder his heued y-wis
For him thought it lay amis,
To lowe at that cas.
And Vernagu vp flode,
He ftard as he were wode,
When he awaked was,
Vernagu afked anon,
Who leyd this gret fton,
Vnder min heued fo,
It no might neur be,
Bot yif he were a knight fre,
Wift Ich who it were,

ROULAND AND VERNAGU. 23
He fchuld be me leue and dere,
Thei that he were mi fo.
Quath Rouland fikerly,
Certes it was Y,
For that thou rot fo,
And when tho me loueft miche,
Now tel me fikerliche,
Whi thou art fo hard,
That no thing may the dere,
Knif, no ax, no fpere,
No, no dint of fward :
Quath Vernagu fikerly,
No man is harder than Y,
Fram the nauel vpward,
For thi Y com hider Y wis,
To fight with king Charlis,
With the hore bard.
Vernagu to Rouland fede,
Also thi God the fpede,
Whare were thou y-born ?
In Fraunce be feynt Auftin,
King Charls cofyn,
Our kinde lord y-corn,
We leueth opon Ihefu,
That is ful of vertu,
That bare the croun of thorn,
And ye leueth in the fende,
For thi withouten ende,
Ye fchul be forlorn.

24 ROULAND AND VERNAGU.
And when that Vernagu
Y-herd fpeke of Ihefu,
He afked wat man he was.
Sir Rouland feyd, he is
The king of paradys,
And lord ful of gras,
In a maiden he was bore,
To bigge that was forlore,
As fonne paffeth thurch the glas,
And dyed opon the rod,
For our alder gode,
And nought for his guilt it nas,
And fufFred woundes fiue,
And ros fram ded to liue,
Than thridde day ;
And fet out Adam and Eue,
And" mo that were him leue,
Fram helle for fothe to fay,
And fitt in Trinite,
O God in perfones thre,
Swiche is our lay.
Vernagu feyd tho,
It no might neuer be fo,
Ther of I figge nay,
How might it euer be,
That he were on and thre,
Tel me now the fkille.
Rouland than fede,
Al fo God me fpede,
Tis with a gode wille,

ROULAND AND VERNAGU. 25
As the harp has thre thinges,
Wode and fonn and ftrenges,
And mirthe is ther tille,
So is God perfones thre,
And holeliche on in vnite,
Al thing to ful fille.
And as the fonne hath thinges thre,
Hete and white on to fe,
And is ful of light,
So is God in trinite,
Vnite and magefte,
And lord ful of might.
Quath Vernagu, now Y fe,
Hou he is God in perfones thre,
Now Ich wot that right,
Ac hou that he bicom man,
The lord that this world wan,
Therof no haue Y no fight.
Quath Rouland, he that ous bought,
And al thing maked of nought,
Wele might he be fo hende,
That he wald fende his fone,
In a maiden for to wone,
Withouten mannes kende.
Quath Vernagu, faunfayl,
Therof Ichaue gret meruail,
Hou might he fram hir wende,
Hou might he of hir be bore,
That was a maiden bifore,
Y no may nought haue in mende. D

26 ROULAND AND VERNAGU.
Rouland feyd to Vernagu,
Mi lordes fader Ihefu,
Is fo michel of might,
That he made fonne and fe,
And fifches in the flod to be,
Bothe daye and night,
Wele may he than as Y the er feyd,
Ben y-bore of a maide,
Withouten wem aplight.
Quath Vernagu, it may wele be,
Ac hou he dyed Y no can nought fe,
Tel me now that right,
For I-nift neuer no man,
That aros after than,
When that he ded was,
And yif he Godes fone were,
He no might nought dye there,
Tel me now that cas.
Quath Rouland, I fchal tel the,
His bodi flepe upon the tre,
And the thridde day aras,
His Godhed waked euer and ay,
And to helle tok the way,
And bond Satanas.
So fchal we al arife,
And of the dome agrife,
Atte day of iuggement,
And anfwerey for our dede,
The gode and the quede,
Hou we our liif haue fpent.

ROULAND AND VERNAGU. 27
Quath Vernagu, now Ich ot wel,
Hou he aros ichadel,
And haue in min entent,
Ac hou he flegghe to heuen,
Y no can nought neuen,
No wite verrament.
Than feyd Rouland,
O Vernagu vnderftand,
Herken how to me,
That ich lord that with his might,
In a maiden a light,
Y-born for to be,
As the fonne aros in the eft,
And decended in the weft,
Aftow might now fe,
Right fo dede God almight,
Mounted in to heuen light,
And fit in trinite.
Quath Vernagu, now Ich wot,
Your- criften lawe eueri grot,
Now we wil fight,
Whether lawe better be,
Sone we fchul y-fe,
Long ar it be night.
Rouland a dint him gaf,
With his gode ftaf,
That he kneled aplight,
And Vernagu to him fmot,
And carf his ftaf fot hot,
Euen ato aright.

28 ROULAND AND VERNAGU.
Tho Rouland kneld adoun,
And maked an orifoun,
To God in heuen light,
And feyd Lord vnderftond,
Y no fight for no lond,
Bot for to faue thi right,
Send me now might and grace,
Here in this ich place,
To fle that foule wight.
An angel com ful fone,
And feyd herd is thi bone,
Arife Rouland and fight,
And fched the fchrewes blod,
For he nas neuer gode,
Bi lond no bi fe,
Thei alle prechours aliue,
To chriften wald him fchriue,
Gode nold be neuer be.
When Rouland herd that fteuen,
He flirt him vp ful euen,
And faught with hert fre ;
Strokes bi fex and feuen,
Togider this knightes geuen,
That mani man might y-fe.
Rouland withouten dueling,
Thurch might of heuen king,
Vernagu he fmot,
That the left arm, and the fcheld
Fel forth into the feld,
Fram that painim fot hot :

ROULAND AND VERNAGU. 29
His arm tho he had lore,
Swithe wo him was ther fore,
And faft he faught Y wot.
He fmot Rouland on the croun,
A ftrok with his fauchoun,
That thurch the helm it bot.
No hadde ben the bacinet,
That the ftrok with fett,
Rouland hadde ben aqueld.
The farrazin fayd afwithe,
Smite Ich eft on fithe
Thi liif is bought and feld.
Rouland anfwerd nay,
Mine worth the rather pay,
Bi God that al thing weld,
And with a ftrok ful large,
He clef the farrazins targe,
That half fel in the feld.
And at another venov,
Roland fmot Vernagu,
That he fel doun to grounde,
And Rouland with Durindale
Gaf him ftrokes fale,
And his dethes wounde.
The paynem crid help Mahoun,
And Iubiter of gret renoun,
That beth fo michel of mounde,
As ye beth might ful helpeth me,
That Ich might y-venged me
Of this criften hounde.

30 ROULAND AND VERNAGU.
Rouland lough for that cri,
And fyd Mahoun fikerly,
No may the help nought :
No Iubiter, no Apolin,
No is worth the brufl of a fwin,
In hert no in thought.
His ventail he gan vnlace,
And fmot of his heued in the place,
And to Charls it brought :
Tho thonked he God in heuen,
And Mari with milde fteuen,
That he so hadde y-wrought.
And al the folk of the lond,
For onour of Roulond,
Thonked God old and yong :
And yede a procefioun,
With croice and gomfaynoun,
And fame miri fong,
Bothe widowe and wiif in place,
Thus thonked Godes grace,
Alle tho that fpeke with tong,
To Otuel also yern,
That was a farrazin flern,
Ful fone this word fprong.

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fitntl*

OTUEL, A KNIGHT.

Herkneth bothe yinge and olde,
That willen heren of bataiUes bolde,
And ye wolle a while duelle,
Of bolde bataiUes Ich wole you telle,
That was fumtime bitwene,
Crifline men and farrazins kene.
There was fumtime a king in Fraunce,
A doughty man with fpere and launce,
And made farazins ful tame,
•King Charles was his name,
And was born in feynt Denys,
Nought bote a litel fram Parys,
And was a wol treu knight,
And meintenede Criftendom aright.
In his time, a king ther was,
An hethene that vncriftned was,
That was king of Lumbardie,
And was y-hoten king Garfie.

32 OTUEL, A KNIGHT.
Marfile was his alfo,
And manie other londes mo.
A fwithe gret lord he was,
In his time non fuych ther nas,
On Ihefu Crift ne leuede he nought,
That him hadde fo dere a-bought.
He leuede al in maumettrie,
And forfok God and feinte Marie.
In alle londes there he wente,
He flough al that euere he hente,
That wolde on Ihefu Crift bileue,
And tok the lond to his byheue :
Night and day it was his thought,
To bring Criftendom to nought.
In hetheneffe ther nas no king,
That ne hel of him fum thing,
Or dude him omage or feute,
Suich a mighty king was he,
Alle thei fcholden to him bouwe.
He was lord of londes ynowe,
And yit he thoughte wit maiftrie,
Habben al Criftendom to gye,
Al Criftendom more and laffe,
He thoughte to maken hethenneffe.
Whan he wolde hauen a parlement,
There com to his comaundement,
To helpen hym wit alle thinges,
Fyftene hethene kinges :
And alle thei were togidere fworn,
That Criftendom fcholde be lorn,
And maden alle here ordenaunce,
To werren uppon the king of France,

OTUEL, A KNIGHT. 33
For thei herden alle tidinges,
That he was chef of Criftene gynges,
And the king wifte it wel.
Nou fchulle ye here hou it bifel,
Hit was on ChildermafTe day,
Soth to fegge withouten nay,
That king Charles of fein Denys,
Wente him toward Parys.
Hife duzze peres wit him he nam,
And muche poeple to him kam,
And token alle here confail thare,
That thei wolden with alle fare,
Into Marfile riden and gon,
And werren there with Godes foon,
And hadden fet a certein day,
To wenden thider withouten delay:
Bote ar thei thiderward ferden,
Suiche tydings thei herden,
Of a farafin doughti and good,
That a-moeuede al here blod.
There com a farazin ful of rage,
Fram king Garfie in meffage,
Into Paris the wei he nam,
And to the kinges paleis he kam.
Otuwel his name was,
Of no man afered he nas,
Into the paleis tho he cam,
A fkwier be the hon he nam,
And feide Ich am comen her,
Kyng Garfies meffager,
To fpeke with Charles king of this lond,
And with a knight that heet Roulond,
And another hatte Oliuer, E

34 OTUEL, A KNIGHT.
Knightes holden withouten peer,
Thofe thre Ich bifeche the,
That thou telle me which thei be.
The fkwier thoughte wel by fight,
That Otuwel was a doughti knight,
And for he was in meffage come,
Bi the hond he haueth him nome,
And ladde him in to the halle,
Among the grete lordes alle,
And there thei ftoden oppon her feet,
He fchewede him where the king feet,
And taughte him hou he fcholde knowe,
There thei feten oppon a rowe,
Roulond and Olyuer,
And the godde knight Ogger.
Anon as Otuwel hadde a fight,
Of Charles that was king and knight,
For eye of no man he ne leet,
Bote went to him there he feet,
Hit was the boldeft farazin,
That euere thorte drinke win,
And that was fene withoute lefing,
Tho he fpak with Charles the king.
He feide to him amydde bis halle,
Sire king, foule mote the falle,
Thou art aboute for to greue,
Mahoun that we onne byleue,
There fore haue thou maugre,
So ye greteth Garfie bi me,
That me haueth in meffage fent,
To feggen his commandement.
And thou Roulond that art his knight,
Non Iche knowe the be fight,

OTUEL, A KNIGHT.

35

May Iche mete the in the feeld,
With thi fpere and with thi fcheld,
Iche wole wyte fo mote Ich the
Right bytwene me and te.

That thou makeft offe this bofl,
Tel me nou yef thou woft.
Quath Otuwel fo mote Ich the
I nelle nought hele for eie of the.
It was oppon a Weddenefdai,
In Aueril before the May,
King Garfie the weie nam,
To the cite of Rome he cam,
Twentie thoufende was the fawe,
That were thare of farazin lawe,
Corfoufe m . . . . harde fel,
And bot there Freinche flechs fol wel.
Eftught of Leggers, a Freinfhe knight,
He flette op anon right,
And kypte anon in his hond
A gret muche fir bronde,
And to Otuwel a ftrok hadde ment,
And Rouland bynam him the dent.
Thaune feide Charles the king,
Ich forbede oppon alle thing,
That no man be fo wood,

36 OTUEL, A KNIGHT.
For to don hym other than good,
A kinges meflager for he is,
He ne fhal habbe non harm I wis.
Sire king, quath Otuwel, be me blod,
And ani of hem be fo wod,
To drawe to me fwerd or knif,
Certes he fchal lefen his lif.
The kinges knightes hadden tene,
Of Otuwel wordes kene,
With that worde anon right,
Op flarte a Freinfche knight,
Bihenden Otuwel he cam,
And be the hod Otuwel nam,
And braid with fo gret might,
And braid adon that hethene knight,
And anon out with a knif,
And wolde haue reued him his lif,
And that farazin Otuwel,
Was i-armed fwithe wel,
That he ne dede him nought bote good,
Ne drough of his bodi no blood.
He flarte op and was wroth,
To ligge longe him was loth,
And Corfouze his brond he drough,
And the kinges knight he flough,
And amang hem alle he flood,
And lokete as he were wood.
The kinges knightes were agramed,
And fumme of hem were afchamed,
That Otuwel in the halle,
Slough a knight among hem alle,
And bi gunnen op to ftonden,
And thoughte to leggen on him honden.

OTUEL, A KNIGHT.
Otuwel ther of was war,
And in his herte it him bar,
That thei nere aboute no good,
And feide to hem there he ftod,
Bi the louerd fire Mahoun,
Knightes I rede ye fitten adoun,
For yef ani of you fo hardi be,
That any ftrok munteth to me,
Mahoun mi God Ich here forfake,
Yef he ffchal euere ordres take,
Of ani other biffchopes hond,
Bot of Corfouze mi gode brond.
Thei behelden Otuwel alle,
Knightes and fkwieres in the halle,
Ther nas non that there flood,
That ne wende Otuel were wod,
And euerehe held his fwerd y-drawe,
And gaf nought of hem alle an hawe.
King Charles flood vpright,
And comaundede anon right,
That no man ffcholde be fo wod,
To do the meffager nought bote good.
Knightes and fweines in the halle,
Were wol glade therof alle,
That the king fo bad,
For mani of hem was fore adrad,
And thei withdrowen hem echone,
And euere ftod Otuwel alone,
And biheld hem as thei yede,
Yef ani him wolde ftroke dede.
Thanne feide Charles the king
Bi God that made all thing
Sarafin nere thou meffager,

38 OTUEL, A KNIGHT.
Wrother hele come thou her,
I rede you yeld op thi brond,
And taket out of thin hond.
Quath Otuwel, that Sarazin
Bi Mahoun that is louerd myn,
I nelle take it out of min hond.
To no man of al thi lond,
That is ther inne geten and bore,
That wind thou haueft i-lore.
Sarafin, quath Roulond
Take me thi fwerd in myn hond,
And Iche wole faue the bi mi blod,
Schal no man do the nought bote good,
And whan thou art redi to fare
For fothe thi fwerd ffchal be yare.
Quath Otuwel the farazin,
Bi Mahoun that is louerd min,
Thaugh Ich hadde fkwieres twelue,
Ich wole bere myn fwerd mi felue,
Holte o roum, Ich wolde rede,
And thanne doflou a god dede.
Sarazin, quath Charles the king
Let ben al thi thretning.
Tel me nou alle and fome
In what meffage artou come.
Otuwel, that noble knight
Anfwerede anon right,
Hider me fente king Garfie,
Spaine is his, and Lumbardie,
An manye londes name couthe,
That I ne mai nemne with mouthe ;
Bi me he fente the to fegge,
Thou ffcoldeft Criftendom alegge,

OTUEL, A KNIGHT. 39
And maken thine men in eche toun,
For to leuen on fire Mahoun,
And you and alle thine barons bolde,
Of him ye ffchulle youre londes holde ,
Thanne mightou amenden yif thou wilt,
That thou haueft Mahoun agult,
And certes bot it fo befalle,
Garfie wele giue thine londes alle,
To Olecent of Efclauenge,
The kinges fone of Ermenie,
That hauethhis o doughter to wif,
That he loueth as his lif,
Thous ffchall all thi. murthe adoun,
Bote thon leue on fire Mahoun.
The duzze pieres anfwerede, tho
Certes while we moun ride and go,
Fraunfe ffchal he neuere giue,
To no man while we moun Hue,
Sire king, his wille nou thou woft,
Let affemblen al thin oft,
And let vs upon Garfie wenden,
Alle his londes for to ffchenden,
Of wordes that he haueth I fpeke,
For fothe we reden you be awreke.
Certes fire king, quoth Otuwel,
Thine Freinche knightes kune yelpe wel,
And when thei beth to werre i-br ought,
Thanne be thei right nought,
Thaugh you bringe with ffcheld and fpere,
Al that euere may wepene bere,
To werren vpon king Garfie,
Certes alle thei ffcholden deie.
And thou art king, and old knight,

40 OTUEL, A KNIGHT.
And haueft i-loren al thi might,
And in thi yinkthe tak god hede,
Thou nere neuere doughti of dede.
Tho was the king was agramed,
And alle hife duzze peres affchamed,
That Otuwel, that hethene knight,
Told of hem alle fo light.
Roulond bi the king flood,
And ameuede al his blod,
And feide in wraththe anon right,
To Otuwel that hethene knight,
To werren on Garfie yef we fare,
In bataille, and I mete the thare,
And I may mete the aright,
Bi Ihefu that is ful of might,
Thou ne fchalt neuere after that day,
Defpice Freinchs man, yef Ich may.
Ough, quath Otuwel and lough,
Wherto makeflou it fo tough,
To threte me in another lond,
Nam Ich here at thin hond,
Yef thou haueft will to fighte,
Whan euere thou wolt let the dighte,
And thou fchalt finde me redi dight,
In the feld to bide fight.
Bi God, quath Roulond, Ich wolde be yare
Whan Ich wifle to finde the thare,
And euele mote he thriue and the,
That ferft failleth of me and te.
Ye leue ya, quath Otuwel tho,
Whether fo failleth of us two,
Ich wole finde Mahoun to borwe,
Ich wile be redi erliche tomorwe.

OTUEL, A KNIGHT. 41
Quath Roulond, thar he ftod on grounde,
Selpe me Gode feere i-founde
Right before the kinges eien,
That alle the kinges knightes feien,
Either other his trewthe plighte,
Vppon morwen for to fighte.
King Charles ftod al ftille,
And biheld his gode wille,
And feide, it is harm I wis,
That thou noft what follaut is,
Yef thou woldes follaut take,
And thine falfe godes forfake,
Iche wolle make the fo mote Ich the,
And tou wille bleue with me,
A riche man in mi lond,
That Ich wille fikere the oh hond.
Otuwel, that hardi knight,
Anfwerede anon right,
Criftes cors vppon his heued,
That me radde fuch a red,
To forfake mi god Mahun,
1 nelle nought leue thi falfe farmon.
Thaugh Otuwel fpeke outrage,
For he was comen on meffage,
King Charles that was heende and god,
Nolde foffre him habbe nought bote god,
Bote feide to him anon right,
Be thou fkwier, be thou knight,
Tel me yef thi confeil is nome,
Of what linage thou art come.
Otuwel anfwerede this,
A kinges fone Ich am, I wis,
Soth to fegge and nought to lye,

42 OTUEL, A KNIGHT.
Ich am the kinges cofin Garfie,
Fernagu myn eem was,
That neuere ouer comen nas,
Sir Roulond thi cofin him flough,
Therefore wole rife wo inough,
Therefore Ich defire fo moche,
To fighte with Roulond fikerliche,
Ich wille tomorewen in the day,
Awreken his deth yef Ich may,
Nou he haueth i-feid his fawe,
That he ne mai him nought withdrawe,
That we fchule bothe fighten ifeere,
Nou Ich wille that thou it here,
Min emes deth Ich awreke,
Or min herte ffchal to breke.
King Charle gan to meuen his blod,
Bot natheles he was hende and good,
And nolde for his wordes heghe,
Don Otuel no vileinie.
Bote comaundede anon a fwein,
Gon fechen him his chaumberlein,
A ying knight ant nought old,
That was wel norffched and bold,
And feide to him, fire Reiner,
Tak here this meffeger,
And to his in faueliche him lede,
That for no word ne for no dede,
That he haueth don and faid,
That non hond be on him leid ;
And loke that he be wel i-dight,
And onoured als a knight.
The chamberlein anon dede,
i\ls the king him hadde i-bede,

OTUEL, A KNIGHT. 43
And ladde him hom to his in,
And whan he was i-comen in,
He tok his leue the chamberlein,
And wente to the king agein.
Littel flep the king that night,
For ferd of Roulant that gode knight,
Of the bataille he hadde i-nome,
Lefle he were ouer come,
For the king hadde fein ful wel,
The kuntenaunfe of Otuel :
The king wifte wel afin,
Hit was a bold farazin,
For he faugh hit wel by fight,
Tho he faugh him flen his knight.
On morwe tho the dai sprong,
And the larke bigan hire fong,
King Charles wente to cherche,
Godes werkes for to werche.
Roulond his cofin with him yede,
Of Godes help that hadde nede,
Thei wenten anon to here maffe,
For here finnen ffcholde be the laffe.
Tho the maffe was i-feid,
And the weftement doun i-leid,
The king and Roulond ifere,
Wente forth as ye moun here,
Right to the paleis gate,
And founde houinge ther ate,
Otuel armed and i-dight,
Al redi to bide fight.
Tho feide that farazin,
Sire king, were is thi cofin,
Roulond that his truthe plighte,

44 OTUEL, A KNIGHT.
That he wolde with me fighte,
He was tho fol heie of mod,
Is he nou i-lete blod.
Roulond ftod al and herde,
Hou Otuel" toward him ferde,
And anfwerede anon right,
By Ihefu, that is fol of might,
Thin heued ffchal fele vnder thin hood,
That I nam nought laten blood.
Welcome be thou, quath Otuwel tho,
And turnde his ftede and made him go,
And to the place tho rod he,
There the bataille ffcholde be,
Al aboute the water ran,
Ther nas nother man ne wimman,
That mighte in riden no gon,
At no ftede bote at on ;
And there Otuwel in rood,
No lengere he ne abood.
Roulond that doughti knight,
Was fol hafteliche i-dight,
And his ftede he biftrod,
And no lengere he ne abood,
Er the dai i-don it were,
Ther thei ffchollen lighten ifere.
Anon als Roulond be heeld,
Otuwel houede in the feel[d],
Roulond was fo egre to fighte,
That for al the world he ne mighte,
Abide to riden in at the gate,
There Otuwel rod in ate,
He thoute the nekfte weie to ride,
And no lengere he nolde abide,

OTUEL, A KNIGHT. 45
He fmot his ftede with fpores brighte,
And with help of Godes mighte,
Ouer the water the ftede fwam,
And to londe faf he cam.
Anon right als Roulond
Hadde i-kaught the druthe lond,
Gret enuye was hem betwene,
Thei riden togidere with fperes kene,
That were fteue and nought longe,
And the knightes were both ftronge,
And fmyten either in otheres ffcheld,
That bothe hors fellen in the feld,
And rifen agein op from the grounde,
And bothe knightes were hole and founde.
Tho the fledes were rifen bothe,
The knightes woxen both fol wrothe,
And drowen fwerdes ate lafle,
And either hugh on other fafle.
Roulond to Otuwel fmot
A ftrok, that fol fore bot,
He wolde haue fmiten Otuwel,
And he blenkte fwithe wel,
And Roulond fmot the ftede broun,
And clef the heued al adoun,
And the ftede fel to grounde,
Bot Otuwel was hoi and founde.
Roulond was hende and good of wille,
And houede oppon his ftede ftille,
To fmiten made he femblant non,
Er Otuwel was rifen and gon.
Roulond, quath Otuwel, what was the,
Art tou blynd, mightou nought fe
Wil Ich oppon mi ftede fat,

46 OTUEL, A KNIGHT.
Whi ffcholde mi ftede habbe that,
It hadde be more honour to the,
Forfothe to habbe i-fmite me.
Ough, quath Roulond, blame me nought,
Bifengeme, Ich habbe i-fought,
Otuwel, Ich hadde y-ment,
That thou ffcholdeft haue i-feled that dent.
Ich hadde wel leuere fo mote Ich the,
Otuwel habbe gouen it the.
Otuwel was wroth his ftede was flawe,
And with his fwerd he bar i-draue,
He fmot to Rolond with good wille,
That ouede oppon his ftede ftille,
That he hadde Roulond ment,
And he failede of his dent,
And fmot Roulondes gode ftede,
That neuere eft on erthe he ne yede.
Otuwel thoute on errore deede,
Tho he hadde flawe his ftede,
Hou Roulond houede ftille as fton,
Til he was rifen and gon,
And he ftod al ftille,
And leet Roulond rifen at wille,
And feide, Roulond, fo mote Ich the,
That ftrok Ich mente to the,
And nou it is on thi ftede i-ftunt,
Let nou ftonde dunt for dunt.
Tho thei fien non other bote,
Thi wenten togidere al on fote,
And ftrokes yeden bitwene ham fo kene,
That the fer fprong out bitwene.
King Charles with his knightes bolde,
Was come the bataille to biholde,

OTUEL, A KNIGHT. 47
And bifought God fol of might,
He ffcholde faue Roulond his knight.
Bothe knights were gode and ftronge,
And foughten togidere fwithe longe,
Roulond was a hende knight,
And feled that Otuwel fmot aright,
And that might was in his arm,
And thoute to fauen him from harm,
And feide, Otuwel, let thi fight,
And leue on Ihefu ful of might,
And Ich wele ben at acent,
That thou ffchalt wedde Belecent,
The kinges doughter, mi nefe that is,
I rede Otuwel that thou do this.
Quath Otuwel to Roulond,
Whil mi fwerd is in min hond,
Al thi preching is for nought,
Hit ne cam neuere in my thout,
Me ne ftant nought of the fwich awe,
That thou ffchalt make me reneie mi lawe,
For to wedde Belecent,
So nis nought mi wille I went.
Tho thei ne might nought acente,
Agein to bataille thei wente,
And foughten harde togidere beie,
Neueron of other ne ftod eie.
Rouland bigan to meuen his blood,
That Otuwel fo longe flood,
And for tene vp with the brond,
That he bar in his hond,
And in the heued he thoute to redde
Otuwel, bote nought he ne fpedde.
Otuwel flarte ofide,

48 OTUEL, A KNIGHT.
And let the fwerd bi him glide,
And Roulond with the fwerdes ende,
Reighte Otuwel oppon the lende,
Als he wolde the dent fle,
Otuwel fel on kne.
Otuwel affchamed was,
That he knelede oppon the gras,
And for anger his herte gan ffwelle,
And thoughte Roulond for to quelle,
In the heued he hadde him ment,
Bote Roulond bleinte for the dent,
As fwete Ihefu Chrift wolde,
That Roulond there deie ne ffcholde.
Befide the heued the dent wente,
And the hauberk he to rente,
Fram the hepebon an heigh,
That alle the pece out fleigh.
King Charles faugh there he flood,
And was fol dreri in his mood,
And was fwithe fore afright,
To lefe Roulond his gode knight,
For Otuwel fmot fo hertliche,
The king wende fikerliche,
That Roulond ffcholde been y-lore,
And was a fori man there fore.
As the king ftode in doute,
He fpak to his folk aboute,
And feide to alle that there were,
Lordinges, doth as Ich wou lere,
Sitte eche man oppon his kne,
And biddeth to God in Trinite,
For his grace and for his mightes,
Sende feightneffe bitwene tho knightes,

OTUEL, A KNIGHT. 49
And giue Otuwel wille to day,
For to reneien his lay.
Euerichone thei token here red,
And deden as the king ham bed,
To Ihefu Crift thei deden here bone,
And fwete Ihefu herde ham fone,
A whit coluere ther cam fle,
That al the peple mighten fe,
On Otuweles heued he lighte,
Thoru the uertu of Godes mighte,
And Otuwel that doughti knight,
Withdrough him anoon right
Fram Roulond, and ftod al ftille,
To fighte more he ne hadde wille,
And feide, Roulond thou fmiteft fol fore,
With drau thin hond and fmight na more,
Yef thou wolt holden that thou me bet,
That I ffchal wedde that maiden fwet,
The kinges doughter Belefent,
For fothe, than is mi wille went,
Yef I ffchal wedden that faire may,
Ich wille bileuen oppon thi lay,
And alle myne godes forfake,
And to youre God, Iche wille take.
Roulond likete that word fol wel,
And anfwerede Otuwel,
I thonke it Ihefu ful of might,
Thorou wham that grace is in the light.
Otuel cafte of his hond,
Corfoufe, his gode brond,
And Roulond his alfo,
And togidere thei gune go,
Eyther forgaf other his loth, G

50 OTUEL, A KNIGHT.
Nas non of hem with other wroth,
Bote clippe and kuffe ethther other,
As either hedde been otheres brother.
King Charles rood thidere anon,
And knightes with him many on,
Anon as he thider cam,
Bi the hon Roulond he nam,
And feide, Roulond, for Godes erthe,
Hou is the and this man i-wurthe,
So harde ftrokes as ye habben giue,
Hit is wunder that ye Hue.
Sire, quath Roulond, we beth al founde,
Nother of vs ne haueth wounde,
Otuwel haueth his confeil nome,
That he wile Criftene bycome,
And Ich habbe granted bi youre acent,
That he ffchal wedde Belecent.
Certes, quath Charles tho,
Nou thou wolt that it be fo,
I graunte wel that it fo be,
For whi that he wille dwelle with me :
Thanne hadde Ich the and Oliuer,
Otuwel, and gode Ogger,
In all the world in lenkye aud brede,
Ther nis king that nolde me drede.
The king took Otuwel anon,
And to his paleis made him gon,
And makeden murthe and melondie,
Of alle maner of meneftraufie,
For the miracle that was wrought,
That Otuwel hadde i-turned his thought.
On moruen tho the day was bright,
Thei ladden to churche that noble knight,

OTUEL, A KNIGHT. 51
Biffchop Turpin was biffchop tho,
He follede him that day and nam mo.
Tho Otuwel hadde follaught nome,
And to the kingges pees was come,
The king beed him his doughter anon,
And feire londes mani on.
Otuwel to the king faide,
Sire, keep me wel that maide,
For fothe Ich nele hire neuere wedde,
No neuere with hire go to bedde,
Er thi werre to the ende be brought,
And fum what of thi wille wrought,
Whan king Garfie is flawe or take,
Thanne is time mariage to make.
Quath king Charles to Otuwel,
Nou I fe thou loueft me wel,
And yef I leue fo mote I the,
Thou ne ffchalt nought lefe thi loue on me.
Tho leet the king afemblen anon,
Alle hife duzze peres echon,
Lordinges, he feide, what is youre red,
King Garfie feith, I ffchal be ded,
And as ye habbeth i-herd fegge,
He thenketh Criftendam to legge,
Whether wole we wenden oppon him anon,
Other abide til winter be gon.
The duzze peres acentenden therto,
To bide til winter were i-do,
And alle winter the king of Fraunce,
Lette maken his purueianfe,
Al that winter at hom he bod,
And in fomer to werre he rod.
Lordinges bothe yinge and olde,

52 OTUEL, A KNIGHT.
Her[k]neth as we formeft tolde,
Hou the werre was fol hyghe,
Bitwene king Charles and king Garfie.
Anon as winter was y-gon,
The king afemblede his hoft anon,
And mochel peple cam to his hond
Out of mani diuerfe lond.
Aueril was comen and winter gon,
And Charles tok the weie anon,
And drough him toward Lumbardie,
To werren oppon king Garfie.
There was fet withouten faille
Certein day of bataille :
Anoon as Charles was i-come,
Nigh honde thar the bataille was nome,
In a mede anon right.
The kinges pauilons were i-pight,
Vnder an hul befides a riuere,
And bifel as ye moun here ;
Fol nygh the water the king lay,
Of bataille for to abide his day,
And vppon that other fide,
He mighte seen hife enemis ride,
And there nas brugge ne ford non,
That man mighte ouer riden ne gon.
King Charles that gode knight,
Tok carpenters anon right,
And lette make a brugge anon,
That men mighten ouer gon,
Tho the brugge was al yare,
That men mighten ouer fare.
Hit bitidde vppon a day,
Wil Charles in his bed lay,

OTUEL, A KNIGHT. 53
That Roulond an Oliuer,
And the gode knight Oger,
Ouer the brugge thei wenten ifeere,
Auntres for to fen and here,
And tho thei ouer paffed were,
Suche auntres thei funden there,
For al the good vnder fonne,
Thei nolde habben the gamen bi gonne.
Of Garsies oft four hethene kinges,
Wenten for to here tidinges,
For alle cas that mighte bitide,
Wel i-armed bataille to bide.
Here foure names ye moun wite,
As we finden in romaunfe write,
Turabeles hatte the to king,
A flout farazin, withouten lefing,
That other Balfamun het,
A werfe man yede non on fet,
Aftaward was the thriddes name,
He louede werre and hatede game,
The ferthe king highte Clarel,
That neuere yite ne dede wel.
As thei riden alle y-fere,
That on feide as ye moun here,
Mahoun leeue ous yit abide,
Into Fraunce that we moun ride,
And Ich mighte Roulond mete,
Al with wraththe Ich wolde him grete :
That traitour he flough mi brother,
Ne gete Ich neue eft fuch a nother.
Roulond herde and Oliuer,
And the gode knight Ogger,
Hou thei fpeken hare wordes highe,

54 OTUEL, A KNIGHT.
And thratten Roulond to die,
And Roulond was fo nygh,
That alle foure kinges he fygh.
Felawes, quath Roulond anon,
Ich am war of oure fon,
Thei beth foure, and we bote thre,
Dathett habbe that hem fle,
Nou we habben fonnden game,
Gawe to hem a Godefname.
Anon as Clarel ham fygh,
He feide, oure enemys beth nygh,
Ich fe bi here cuntenaunfe,
Thei beth Criftene men of Fraunce,
Charles oft lith here bi fide,
In pauilons bataille to bide,
And thefe beth of hife men I wis,
Therfore mi reed iftis,
That we hafteliche to ham ride,
And loke whether thei wole abide.
With that word the kinges anon,
Touchede here ftedes and made hem gon,
And toward the Criftene knightes thei riden,
And thei doughtiliche abiden.
Aftaward with Roulond mette,
Nought he ne fpak, ne him ne grette,
Bot fmot him with his fpere anon,
Thorou the ffcheld he made hit gon,
And Roulondes fpere Y wis,
Was wel betere than was his,
To Aftawardes herte hit yede,
And cafle him doun of his ftede,
Aris, quath Roulond, and tak the bet,
At this time thou art i-let.

OTUEL, A KNIGHT. 55
Curabeles ne lengere ne abood,
To god Ogger anon he rod,
Ogger was a ftrong knight,
< And rod to him with gret might,
And bar adon horfe and pak,
And the farazins nekke to brak.
Balfamum and Oliuer,
Eyther neighede other ner,
Tho Balfamum bigan to ride,
Oliuer nolde no lengere abide,
He pingde his ftede with fpores kene,
And fmot a ftrok that was fene,
Hene ne mighte tho no bette do,
Bote gurde the nekke bon otwo.
Thus Roulond and Oliuer,
And the gode knight Ogger,
Slouwen the hethene kinges thre,
And yet nolde nought Clarel fle :
To the duk Roulond he rood,
And Roulond his ftrok abod,
For wraththe hife felaus were i-flein,
He rood to Roulond with gret mayn,
And bar a fpere greet and long,
And the farazin was ftrong,
And in the fadel fat fafte,
And Roulond to grounde he kafte,
With the fal the fleede anoon,
To barft that a ffchanke bon,
Roulond vppon his feet flood,
And ne hadde nought bote good.
Ogger faugh fol wel tho,
That Roulondes hors was ago,
Ogger that was dougthi of dede,

56 OTUEL, A KNIGHT.
Smot doun Clarel of his ftede.
Oliuer tok the ftede andn,
And to Roulond he gan gon.
Roulond haue this, quath Oliuer,
This the fente good Ogger,
And Clarel he haueth to grounde i-throwe,
For he broughte the fo lowe.
Rouland that hadde his ftede i-lore,
Thonkede hem bothe therefore,
And was the gladdefle man vnder fonne,
That he hadde an hors i-wonne.
Clarel vppon his feet flood,
And faught as he were wood,
On none manner he nolde fle,
Bot faught agein hem alle thre.
The thre knightes were fol ftronge,
He ne mighte nought dure agein ham longe,
And feide to hem alle thre,
Lordinges, let me oliue be,
To you it were lutel honour,
To fleme that nabbe no focour.
To fighte more he for fook,
And Roulond his fwerd tok,
Roulond was hende and noght forfok,
And of Clarel his fwerd he tok.
King Clarel, quath Ogger,
Worth vp bi hinden me her.
Tho was king Clarel glad,
For to do that Ogger bad,
And was flaleworthe and light,
And lep vt anon right,
Tho wenten thei forth withouten targing,
And thoute prefente Charles the king,

OTUEL, A KNIGHT. 57
With Clarel that thei hadden i-nome,
And hopeden to ben welcome.
And of here weie thei were let,
And fwithe harde thei were met,
Thei fien of Garfies men a feerd,
Bothe with fpere and with fwerd,
Bitwen hem and the pauiloun,
There thei ffcholden wenden adoun,
Thei ore mighte fkapen in neuere a fide,
Thoru out hem thei moften ride.
Felawes, quath Ogger tho,
To Roulond and Oliuer bo,
Iche wene er we hom come,
Clarel ous worth bynome,
Lordinges, what is nou youre red,
Wole we fmiten of his hed ?
Quath Roulond, fo mote Ich the,
At that red nel Ich nought be.
No Ich nother, quat Oliuer,
Bi the louerd fein Richer,
On Hue I rede we leten him go,
And ne do we him nan more wo.
Such cas may fallen in fum neede,
He mai quiten vs oure mede.
Bi God, quath Ogger, that is foth,
And where he do, or he ne doth,
Hit were ffchame to ous I wis,
To fflen a man that yolden him is :
I rede we leten him gon his wey,
For we moten tenden to a nother pley.
Alle thre thei were at on,
And leten Clarel on Hue gon.
Clarel nolde no lengere abide, H

58 OTUEL, A KNIGHT.
He ne aflcede non hors onne to ride,
Bote on fote dede him go,
And leuede hem thare in muchel wo.
Now lordinges, quath Ogger,
To Roulond and to Oliuer,
Ich wole trifle to my ffwerd,
And fonde for to paffe this ferd ;
Ich hope, thoru help of Godes might,
To fe mi lord Charles this night ;
Yef ani farazin with eie,
Cometh to lette me of mi weie,
Selpme God and this day,
He ffchal abugge, yef Ich may.
Nou, quath Roulond, that doughti knight,
And Ich wille help the bi mi might,
I nele to day bi fein Martin,
Yild me to no farazin.
Quath Oliuer, fo mote Ich the,
In mani peril, Ich habbe i-be,
And yef Ich faille at this nede,
God ne lete me neuere eft fpede ;
I nele yef God halt me found,
To day yelde me to non hound.
Thei markeden hem alle thre,
To him that tholede deth on tre,
And no lengere thei ne abiden,
Anon in to the ferde thei riden.
A farazin with Roulond mette,
And of his weie, Roulond lette,
He cam out of al the here,
And bar to Roulond a gret fpere.
A bold knight that hatte Byoun,
An Roulond bar him adoun.

OTUEL, A KNIGHT. 59
Oliuer that was his brother,
He mette with another,
A doughti knight an hethene man,
A ftrong thef that heet Baffan.
Oliuer was horfed wel,
And bar a fpere kene and fel,
And fmot him right vnder the ffcheld,
That there he lay amidde the feld.
And the gode knight Ogger,
Mette with on, that heet Moter,
And wolde him habbe doun i-bore,
And Ogger was wroth thar fore,
And fmot the farazin fo fore,
That he ne fpak neuere more.
Oliuer, Ogger, and Roulond,
Among the farazins ftureden here hond,
Thoru help of God that is aboue,
That ham hadde that grace i-goue :
Thorou the ferd as thei riden,
Alle that here ftrokes abiden,
Thei were maimed for euere more,
The doughti knightes thei fmiten fo fore.
That with inne a litel ftounde,
The felden mani on to grounde.
Tho cam a foudan, flout and firs,
On of Garfies duzze peers,
That hatte Karmel of Tabarie,
Oppon the Sarafins, he gan crie,
Recreiede knightes, whi nele ye fighte,
Traitours, theues, where youre mighte ?
It is ffchame bi God Mahon,
That oure folk goon thus adoun.
With this worde, Carmel anon,

60 OTUEL, A KNIGHT.
Ringde his ftede and made him gon,
And rood to Ogger in that hete,
And thoute he ffchold his lif for lete,
And was ftronge, and ful of tene,
And fmot fore, and that was fene,
He fmot Ogger in the ffcheld,
That Ogger lay amidde the feld,
Sore he fel oppon the grounde,
And hadde a fol luther wonde.
The duk Roulond that feygh,
For wraththe he was wod wel nygh,
And for wraththe fmot him fo fore,
That he ne fpak neuere eft more.
Tho cam Anwe of Nubie,
On of kinges knightes Garfie,
And feide Oliuer to grounde,
Bote he ne gaf him neuere a wounde.
Roulond was fol wroth with alle,
Tho he faugh Oliuer falle,
And Anawe of Nubie he fmot,
That neuere eft croufle he ne bot.
Oliuer ros vp fram the grounde,
Al hoi withouten wonde,
And anon his ftede he nam,
And to Roulond fone he cam.
Tho was Roulond fol fawe,
That Oliuer was nought i-fflauwe,
Tho rei [thei ?] were togidere i-met,
Tho were thei harde bifet,
Amang farafins that were kene,
And thei fmiten fore for tene.
Whil Roulond faught and Oliuer,
Heuere ftode the gode Ogger,

OTUEL, A KNIGHT. 61
And hadde lorn his gode ftede,
And his wounde gan fafte blede,
And yit he faught there he ftod,
And leide on as he were wod.
Whil Ogger that doughti knight,
Agenes farazins ftod in fight,
Oppon a ftede Clarel com driue,
That Ogger halp to fauen o Hue,
Thorou cunfeil of Roulond and Oliuer,
And anon he knugh Ogger,
Ogger, he feide, hit is mi red,
Yilte come ore thou art ded,
Thou holpe to faue mi lif a day,
Ich wole fauen thin, yef I may.
Ogger faugh wel with his eye,
That he was in point to deye,
And to Clarel he gan gon,
And tok him his fwerd anon.
Clarel nas no wedded man,
Clarel hadde a fair lemman,
That was hoten Aufanye,
And was born in Ermenie.
Clarel, anon rightes,
Clepede to him two knightes,
And feide to hem anon,
To mi lemman ye fchulle gon,
And fegge that Ich fente hire this knight,
And that his wounde be heled aright ;
And god hede to him nome,
To fauen him til mi to come.
The knightes deden as he hem bad,
To his lemman he was lad,
That was hoten Aufanye,

62 OTUEL, A KNIGHT.
That was kinges doughter Garfie,
And yo was glad of that prefent,
To do Clareles comaundement.
Roulond and Oliuer foughten,
That of here Hues nought ne roughten,
Thei hadden foughten ouer myghte,
Thei ne mighte no lengere dure to fighte,
An anon turnden here fteeden,
And flowen for thi ne myghten nought fpeden.
To Otuwel it was told,
That Roulond that was bold,
Oliuer and Ogger bo,
Were ouer the water go.
Otuwel anon rightes,
Leet armen him, and alle his knightes,
Tho he was armed and wel i-dight,
He wente to the king anon right,
And feide, fire, I dwelle to longe,
Rouland, Oliuer, and Ogger the ftronge,
Oue the water alle thre,
Beth went for envie of me,
To loke wher thei mighten spede,
To don any doughti deede,
Among the farizins bolde :
And I ffcholde be couward hoolde,
Ther fore I nele no lengere abide,
To fechen hem Ich wole ride.
Thaugh thei habben envie to me,
Ich wille for the loue of the,
Fonden whother I mighte comen,
Ye helpen hem ar thei weren i-nomen.
And yif hem any harm bytit,
Let ham witen hare oune wit.

OTUEL, A KNIGHT. 63
Quath the king, par Charite,
Otuwel, Ich bifeche the,
For Godes loue highe the bliue,
And fonde to fauen hem oliue,
Er thei be flawe or nome,
And ye ffchal fone focour come.
Otuwel no lengere ne abood,
Anon his ftede he bi ftrood,
And alle hife knightes bi his fide,
And toward the ferd he gan to ride.
And as Otuwel was goon,
The king leet dighte his hoft anon,
After Otuwel to wende,
As a god king and hende.
As Otuwel bigan to ride,
He lokede abouten in eche fide,
And he faugh ate lafle,
Where Roulond fleygh, and Oliuer fafte.
Otuwel touchede his ftedes fide,
And agein hem he gan ride,
And feide, turneth agein anon,
And helpeth to wreke you on youre fon,
Thei ffchulle abugge fo mote Ich the,
That maketh you fo fafte fle.
Tho thei herden Otuwel fpeken,
That thei ffcholden ben awreken,
Tho were thei ferchs to fighte,
And tournden agein and were fol lighte.
Lordinges, quath Otuwel tho,
Whuder is god Ogger go ?
And thei anfwereden fikinge fore,
For fothe, we ne fien him nought yore,
We ne witen where he is by come,

64 OTUEL, A KNIGHT
Whether he is i-flawe other nome.
Alias ! alias ! quath Otuwel,
This tiding liketh me nout wel,
Sire Charles, my lord the king,
Wole be fori for this tiding :
For Godes loue, hie we bliue,
And loke we whother Ogger be aliue.
Otuwel and Oliuer,
And Roulond that doughti bacheler,
With a feir compaignye,
Thei bigunnen for to hie,
Toward king Garfies hoft,
For to abaten of hare boft,
There was a farazin ftrong,
That bar a brod fwerd and a long,
And was hoten Encumbrer,
And bigan to neighen hem ner,
Oppon a muche blak ftede,
And Otuwel took of him hede,
And of his armes hadde a fight,
And knugh him anon right :
And no lengere he ne abod,
Otuwel to him rood,
And bar him doun hors and man,
Thus Otuwel gamen bigan.
Eftught of Legers, a noble knight,
That with Otuwel cam to fight,
Bar a fpere of tre, fol fin,
And fmot a bold farazin,
Into the bodi thoru the ffcheld,
And there he lay det in the feld.
Oliuer ho flough another,
And the ferthe Roulond his brother.

OTUEL, A KNIGHT. 65
Tho the Freinche knightes feien,
The faratins fallen with hare eien,
Thei nolden tho no lengere abide,
Thei fmiten to in eche fide,
And felden farazins fafte,
And thei flowen ate lafte.
King Clarel made hem torne agein,
Oppon Criftene men to lein,
And he leide on fafte,
And the thef ate lafte,
Slou Dromer of Alemaine,
That reu fol fore the king Charlemaine.
Erpater, king of Ynde, was,
He cam with a mafe of bras,
And Otuwel on the helm he reighte,
So harde that- al the heued to queighte.
Quath Otuwel, fo mote Y the,
Ich ne thoute naught boruwe that ftrok of the ;
Bi min heued vnder myn hat,
I nele nought longe ouwe the that.
Otuwel, with a fauchoun,
Cleef him al the heued adoun,
And he fil vnder his horfe feet.
Quath Otuwel, that Ich the bi heet.
Tho was Otuwel fol of mood,
And faught as he were wood.
Al the kinges oft anon,
Foleuweden Otuwel echon,
Roulond and Oliuer,
And maden a foul larder.
The knightes leiden on fo fafte.
The farazins flouwen ate lafte.
Tho neighede it toward eue, i

66 OTUEL, A KNIGHT.
Tho mofte the oft bileue,
And dwellen there al that night,
Til on morwe the dai was bright.
Tho the oft was withdrawe,
To reflen hem, as is the lawe,
King Clarel kam in fourme of pees,
With tweie felawes mo ne lees,
Toward Charles oft, the king,
For to wyten a tiding :
And Otuwel agein him wente,
To wite who him thidere fente.
Thanne feide king Clarel,
To the doughti Otuwel,
Knight, he feide, fo mote thou the,
Tel me what thi name be,
Thou art fo doughti man of dede,
And mani a knight haueft maked blede,
Ich wolde fol fain bi myn eye,
Bring thi name to the king Garfie.
Bi God, felawe, quath Otuwel,
Er this thou kneuwe my name fol wel.
So God ffchilde me fram ffchame,
Otuel is my Criftine name :
Mahoun, Ich habbe forfake,
And to Ihefu, Ich habbe me take.
Alias ! quath Clarel, whi deflou fo,
So wrecheliche haueftou do,
Yit I rere thou turne thi mood,
And leef on Mahoun ore thou art wod,
And Ich wole pefe yef thou wilt,
That thou haueft Garfie a gult.
Figh, quath Otuel tho,
On Mahoun and on Garfie bo,

OTUEL, A KNIGHT. 67
Bi him that maude Adam and Eue,
Y nele neuere oppon you leue,
Bi Ihefu, that is fol of might,
And Ich may mete him aright,
There ffchal no farazin fkape oliue,
That Ich may hente, fo mote Ich thriue.
Otuwel, quath Clarel tho,
Were we fumware, bitwene vs two,
Bi Mahoun, that Ich onne bileue,
Oppon thi bodi Ich wolde preue,
That Mahoun may mo miracles make,
Than he that thou art to i-take :
He nis nought half, bi mi croun,
So mighty, as is fire Mahoun.
Quath Otuwel, bi Godes mighte,
Clarel, mi truthe Ich the plighte,
Whan euere thou wolt, hit fchal be,
Euele mote he thriue that fle.
Quath Clarel, anon right,
Bi Mahoun, that is fol of might,
Woltou fikere me on hond,
That no man of king Charles lond,
Schal do me no vileynie,
By the death that I ffchal deye,
Mi confeil is anon i-nome,
Tomorue erliche, Ich wille come.
Quath Otuwel, ne doute the nought,
Bi God, that al the world haueth wrought,
And the deth that I fchal deie,
Thou ne ffchalt hente no vileinie,
Of no man of king Charles lond,
Bote right of myn oune hond :
Bi him, that made leef and bough,

68 OTUEL, A KNIGHT.
Ther offe ye ffchall thinken y-nough.
Quath Clarel, tho do thi best,
To-morwe thou ffchalt finde me prefl.
Thus the were there bothe at on,
Er thei wolden otwinne gon.
Eyther other his trewthe plight,
Oppon morwen for to fighte.
On moruwen tho the day sprong,
Clarel the king, thoughte long,
To the pauiloun til he cam,
To holde the day, that he nam :
Uppon a ftede wel i-dight,
He came fol redi to bide fight.
King Charles with hife knightes bolde,
Comen out Clarel to biholde,
Hou he com al redi dight,
Boldeliche to bide fight.
Clarel was bold on his bond,
For [OJtuwel fikerede him on hond,
That no man of flechs and blood,
Ne ffcholde doon him nought bote good,
But hem felue tweien fighte,
And habbe the maiftrie who fo mighte.
Tho was Clarel fol trift,
For to fegge, what him luft.
King Charles was an old man,
And Clarel hede ther offe nam,
And feide, Charles thou art old,
Who made the nou fo bold,
To werren oppon king Garfie,
That is cheef of al Painie,
Al Paynime he haued in wold,
Thou doteft, for thou art fo hold.

OTUEL, A KNIGHT. 69
King Charles warythede anon right,
That Clarel tolde of him fo light,
And hadde i-ment tho fol wel,
To habben i-foughten with Clarel :
And bad fetten his armure bright,
And wolde armen him anon right ;
And feide in wraththe, by Godes mighte,
Ich mi felf wole with him fighte.
Roulond bi the king flood,
And bigan to meuen his mood,
And fede to the king anon,
Thou haueft, fire king, mani on,
Gode doughti knightes of deede,
To fighte thi felf thou ne haueft no nede.
God ffchilde, fire, quath Oliuer,
Hit ffcholde fpringe fer or ner,
To putte thin oune bodi to fight,
And haueft fo mani a doughti knight.
King Charles fwor his oth,
And bigan to wexe wroth,
And feide, for ought that man may fpeke,
Mifelf, Ich wile ben on him wreke.
A ! fire, quath Otuwel tho,
For Godes loue fei nought fo,
Ich and he beth truthe plighte,
That we ffchalde togidere fighte,
And Ich wole telle the, withoute faille,
Where fore we habbe taken bataille.
He wolde habbe maked me yufterday,
To habbe reneied my lay,
And feide, that Ich was i-lore,
And God was nought of Marie bore :
And feide, algate he wolde preue,

70 OTUEL, A KNIGHT.
That Ich am in mifbeleue :
There fore he profreth him to fight,
To wite whether is more of might,
Ihefu, that is louerd min,
Or Mahoun and Apolyn.
Thous we habbeth the bataille i-nome,
And bothe we beth i-fwore to come.
Quath the king Charles tho,
Otuwel, whan it is fo,
Tak the bataille a Gofles name,
And Ihefu fchilde the fram ffchame.
Otuwel, that noble knight,
Lette armen him anon right,
And his gode ftede biftrod,
And no lengere he ne abood,
Bote to the ftede he rood fol right,
There Clarel houede to bide fight.
Anon as Otuwel was i-come,
Here confeil was anon i-nome,
No lengere thei ne abiden,
Anon right togidere thei riden,
Noon other nas ham bitwene,
Bote gode ftronge fperes and kene :
Nas neuer nother of other agaft,
And either fat in his fadel faft,
That bothe ftedes yeden to grounde,
And the knightes weren al founde ;
And bothe ftedes wenten forth,
That on fouth, that other north ;
The knightes on fote togidere yede,
An drowen hare fwerdes gode at nede,
No fparede thei nought the fwerdes egge,
Eyther on other bigan to legge.

OTUEL, A KNIGHT. 71
Thei were bothe fwithe ftronge,
And foughten togidere fwithe longe.
King Clarel was wel negh wood,
That Otuwel fo longe flood :
In gret wraththe, Otuwel he fmot,
And his fwerd felliche bot,
And than the fwerd neuere fo good,
The gode helm it withftood.
Bote Otuwel afloneied was,
There he flood vp on the gras.
Quath Otuwel, fo mote Ich go,
He ne louede me nought, that fmot me fo,
Ich warne the wel, fo mote Iche the,
Thou ffchalt habbe as good of me.
Otuwel, for wraththe, anon
Areighte him on the cheke bon ;
Al the fel of that was thare,
And made his teth al bare.
Tho. Otuwel faugh is cheke bon,
He gaf Clarel a fkorn anon,
And feide, Clarel, fo mote thou the,
Whi fcheuweflou the teth to me,
I nam no toth drawere,
Thou ne feft me no cheine bere.
Clarel felede him wounded fore,
And was maimed for euere more,
And fmot to Otuwel with al his might,
And Otuwel, that doughti knight,
With his fwerd kepte the dent,
That Clarel him hadde i-ment,
And yit the dent glood adoun,
And fmot Otuwel oppon the croun.
Quath Otuwel, bi Godes ore,

72 OTUEL, A KNIGHT.
Sarazin thou fmiteft fol fore,
Suthen thi berd was i-fchaue,
Thou art woxen a ftrong knaue.
Otuwel fmot Clarel tho,
O ftrok and na mo,
That neuer eft word he ne fpak,
And fo Otuwel his tene wrak.
Tho was Charles glad y-nough,
That Otuwel king Clarel flough,
And geif Otuwel, that doughti knight,
A god Erldam that felue night.
Al that in the oft was,
Maden murthe and folas,
That Otuwel hadde fo bigunne,
And hadde fo the maiftri wonne,
Al that might ouer al the oft,
Thei maden al ther ioye moft.
Ther cam a meffager and browghte tiding,
To Garfie that riche king,
That Otuwel, his coufin in lawe,
Hadde king Clarel i-flawe.
Tho Garfie it vnder yat,
He was fwithe fori for that.
And for wraththe there he flood,
Corfede hife Godes, as he were wood,
And feide, alias and walawo !
Nou is gode Clarel go.
Certes myn herte it wile to breke,
Bote Ich mowe Clarel awreke.
Tho lette Garfie afemlen anon,
Alle hife farazins echon,
And thoughte thoru out alle thing,
To ben a-wreken on Charles king,

OTUEL, A KNIGHT. 73
And on his cofin Otuwel,
And on him felf the wreche fel.
King Charles herde be a fpye,
That Garfie thratte him to die,
And he afemblede his knightes echon,
And fede to hem alle anon,
Lordinges, Garfie thinketh to ride,
For fothe I nele no lengere abide.
The king armede him anon,
And alle hife knightes echon,
The king gurde him with his fwerd,
And wente himfelf with his ferd.
The king cam ftilleliche with his oft,
And Garfie cam with gret boft,
Tho the oftes neigheden niegh,
That either oft, other fiegh.
Out of Garfies oft cam ride,
A Turkein that was ful of pride ;
Roulond was good and hende,
And agenes him gan wende,
The Tourkein no lengere nabod,
To Roulond anon he rood,
And gurde Roulond with a fpere,
That wel couthe a ftrok bere ;
And as doughte as he was,
His o ftirop he las,
Roulond was afchamed tharfore,
That he hadde his ftirop lore,
And with Dorendal, that was good,
He fmot the Tourkein oppon the hood,
And he feydoun of his ftede,
So Roulond quitte him his mede.
Quath Roulond, that Ich the biheet, K

74 OTUEL, A KNIGHT.
Thou nult na more ftenden on thi feet ;
Mine o ftirop thou madeft me tine,
Nou haueftou lofe bothe thine.
Ther cam a nother flout farazin,
That was armed wel a fin,
That highte Myafle of Bagounde,
And with a litel ftounde,
He made his ftede fwithe to goon,
And fmot Oliuer anoon,
Thorou out al his armure bright,
He woundede fore that gode knight.
Roulond faugh be contenaunfe,
His brother was hurt with le launce,
His wardecors anon he fond,
And tok a fpere out of his hond,
And made his hors make a fturt,
To him that hadde his brother hurt ;
And touchede him with the fperes ord,
That neuere eft he ne fpak word,
And tok Myafles ftede anon,
And fette Oliuer ther on.
There was a noble farazin,
A king that heet Galatyn,
And cam with a companie,
And bigan fafte to hie.
Otuwel was war of that,
Oppon his ftede there he fat,
Hou king Galatin cam with wille,
Criftene men for to fpille.
With the fpores the ftede he nam,
To Galatyn the king, he kam.
Thorou the bodi he him bar,
And bad he fcholde eft be war,

OTUEL, A KNIGHT. 75
Of fuch a ftrok, whan it kam.
Non other hede of him he ne nam,
Bote rood forth oppon his ftede,
And leet the farazin ligge and blede.
Tho fmiten tho oftes togidere anon,
And foughten fafte and good won :
And to dafchten many a fcheld,
Mani a bodi lay in the feld.
Tho cam ouer the donne ride,
An hethene king, fol of pride,
And browghte with him al ferche tho,
A thoufende farazins and mo,
And foughten fafte a good ftounde,
And felden Criflenemen to grounde.
A doughti bacheler cam ride,
Oppon king Charles fide,
A yong knight, that fprong furft herd,
Of no man he nas aferd,
Fiue hundred men with him he broughte,
That of hare lif, litel thei roughte :
Nas non twenti winter old,
And echon was doughti man and bold :
He hadde i-chofen hem fol wide,
Bolde men bataille to bide.
Thei foughten fafte withinne a ftounde,
And broughten farafins to grounde :
Thei were bolde and foughten fafte,
The farazins flouwen ate lafte.
Roulond and Oliuer hulpen wel,
And the doughty Otuwel.
Courfabex the king, cam tho,
And mette fleinde a thoufend and mo,
Traitours, quath Courfabex the king,

76 OTUEL, A KNIGHT.
Certes this is a foul thing,
That ye fchule fle for ferd :
Traitours, tourneth agein the berd,
Tourneth agein alle with me,
And we wole make the Frenche fle.
Thous Courfabex him felf allone,
Made tourne hem agein echone.
The yinge knight that was fo bold,
Right nou that Ich offe habbe told,
With Courfabex, wel fone he mette,
And with his fwerd anon he fette,
Such a ftrok oppon his croun,
That of his ftede he fel adoun.
The yinge knight to him cam,
And Courfabex oliue nam,
And fente him Charles the king.
Tho was he glad of that tiding.
Tho the Tourkeins fein alle,
That Courfabex was falle,
And Criflenemen finite fore,
Thei flouwen and nolde figte na more.
And the gode yinge knight,
Suwede and leidon doun right.
There ne halp nough fire Mahoun,
The Tourkeins yeden fafte a doun.
Tho cam Poidras of Barbarin,
And with him mani a farazin,
Poidras, oppon the yinge knight,
Leid on, with al his might,
And here men togidere huwen,
And hethene homes fafte blewen;
Poidras and the yinge knight,
Bitwene hem was ftrong fight,

OTUEL, A KNIGHT. 77
Poidras hadde the more mayn,
And hadde wel neigh the knight flain.
Otuwel, that doughti knight,
Was war of that anon right,
Otuwel no lengere nabood,
To Poidras, anoon he rood,
And fmot Poidras of Barbarin,
That there he lay as a ftiked fwin.
Otuwel rood in to the feerd,
And leide on fafte, mid his fwerd.
Rouland and Oliuer,
Ne yeden Otuwel ner,
And the berdles knight,
And flowen farazins adonn right.
King Garfie herde withinne a ftounde,
Hou hife men yeden to grounde :
King Garfie hadde a confeiler,
And anon he took him neer,
And feide to him, fire Arperaunt,
Agenes Otuwel myn herte ftant,
That thous haueth reneid his lay,
And fleth mine men night and day.
Sire Arperant, what is thi reed,
That the thef trattour nere ded,
Certes Fraunce hadde be wonnen,
Ne hadde his trefoun be bigunnen.
King Garfie, quath Arperaunt,
Bi Mahoun that yonder ftant,
Al the while that Roulond,
Mai bere Durendal in his hond,
And Oliuer rit by his fide,
For no thing that may betide,
Thou ne fchalt neuere Otuwell winne,

78 OTUEL, A KNIGHT.
For nought that euer thou kans biginne.
Tho was Garfie wel nygh wood,
For wraththe on molde there he ftood.
There was an Affrikan gent,
That hatte Baldolf of Aquilent,
King Garfie feide to him anoon,
Certes Baldoff, thou moft goon,
And take with the, knight and fwein,
And tourne the Criftene men ageine ;
And Ich mi felf wole after come,
And helpe that Otuwel were nome.
Quath Baldolf, bi fire Mahun,
Louerd we wole don what we moun,
And com thou after and tak hede,
Wuche maner that we fpede,
And yef thou feft that nede be,
Com and help us er we fle,
For whan an oft to flight is went,
Bote focour come, it is fchent.
Baldolf took his compainie,
And to the bataille he gan heye,
And with inne a litel ftounde,
Hard bataille thei habben i-founde.
Otuwel, doughti of dede,
Where thei comen he took hede,
And no lengere he ne bood,
Bote hafteliche to ham he rood.
Roulond and Oliuer,
Neigheden Otuwel ner,
And the gode yinge knight,
That was fo doughti man in fight,
Tho thei foure weren ifere,
Tho mighte men feen and here,

OTUEL, A KNIGHT. 79
Harde ftrokes dele and dighte,
And with farazins boldeliche fighte.
Ther cam out of Garfies oft,
A man that made muche boft,
A king that hatte Karnifees,
And muchel onour there he les.
Ther cam a knight of Agineis,
A bold man, and a courteis,
And with Carnifees he mette,
And wende Carnifees to lette :
King Karnifees him haueth i-ftunt,
And flough him ate forme dunt.
Though Karnifees hadde thous do,
He wende to feruen ham alle fo ;
Otuwel no lengere nabood,
To Karnifees anon he rood ;
Karnifees knugh Otuwel,
By hife armes fwithe wel,
And feide, to the gode gome,
Forfworne thef, artou come.
Bi Mahoun, quath Karnifees,
Thou fchalt hoppen heuedles.
Otuwel, withoute targing,
Anfwerede Karnifees the King,
Bi feingeme, Ich ne habbe nought munt,
Tha thou fchalt giue me that dunt.
Thei nolden no lengere abide,
Anon togidere thei gunde ride :
Karnifees fmot Otuwel,
Bifide the heued the ftrok fel,
A corner of Otuweles fcheld,
He gurde out, amidde the feide.
Quath Otuwel, good it wite,

80 OTUEL, A KNIGHT.
That ftrok was wel i-fmite,
Nou thou fchalt bi feint Martvn,
Preuen a ftrok of myn.
Otuwel, Karnifees fmot,
With Corfoufe that wel boot,
That Karnifees fought the ground,
Ros he neuere eft, hoi ne found.
Tho the farazins wiflen alle,
That Karnifees was i-falle,
And that he nolde na more arife,
Tho bigan ham alle to agrife :
For in al Garfies feerd,
Nas fuch a man, to handle a fwerd.
Tho tournede thei to flight,
The farazins anon right.
Thous, the gode Otuwel,
And Roulond that was good and fnel,
Thoru the help of Godes might,
Maden the farazins tourne to flight,
Throu fwete Ihefu Criftes grace,
And thei fuweden fafte the chaffe.
The farazins were fo adredde,
Into the water manye fledde,
Summe fmumme and fumme funke,
And coold water ynough thei drunke,
Til Roulond and Oliuer the gode,
In mananie harde floures flode.
Godde Ogger in prifoun lay,
Bothe bi night, and eke be day,
Herkneth, what hede good to him nam,
And hou he out of prifoun kam.
Seuene hethene knightes bolde,
Ogger was bitaken to holde,

OTUEL, A KNIGHT. 81
And the foure, Ogger flough,
And yit he fkapede wel inough.
There was a noble fkuier,
That with queintize, halp Ogger,
Swithe priueliche and ftille,
He broughte Ogger, to his wille,
His fwerd and his armure bright,
And Ogger armede him anon right.
The he hadde on his gode wede,
The fquier broughte him a gode ftede.
Ogger no lengere ne abood,
The goodde ftede he biftrood,
The fquier was armed, and wel i-dight,
And hadde a good hors and a light,
And alfo ftille as a fton
The fquier lep to horfe anon,
And to the porteres windou he cam,
And in his hond his mafe he nam,
And oppon the windou he fchof,
That the windou al to drof.
Hit was abouten midnight,
And the porter was afright,
And afked anon, who was thare,
And who makede al that fare ?
Porter, quath the fquier, tho,
Vndo the gate and let us go,
We here tellen, bi fire Mahoun,
That Criftene men, goon alle adoun,
And Ich and mi felawes I wis,
We wole witen hou it ife,
And yef we ani good winne,
For fothe, thou fchalt parten ther inne.
And he dude op the gate wide, L

82 OTUEL, A KNIGHT.
And lette ham bothe out ride,
And fleek agein the gate fail,
And there thei fien Ogger laft.
Ogger rood al that night,
Til on the morewen the day was bright ;
That neuere his feet comen on grounde,
Er he hadde his felawes founde :
Tho Roulond and Oliuer
Weren war of gode Ogger,
Thei were fol glad of that, fight,
And thonkeden Ihefu fol of might.
Tho Roulond and Oliuer,
Adden i-met with gode [Ogger ?]
Thei were al fo fous to fight,
As euere was a foul to flight ;
And wenten into the bataille anon,
And foughten fafte and good won,
And made the Sarazins agafle,
And Otuwel was nought the lafte.
Tho alle four weren ifere,
There nere none ftrokes dere,
Tho doughti knightes fmiten fo fore,
As thaugh thei ne hadden nought foughten yore,
That withinne a litel ftounde,
Sarazins yeden alle to grounde.
King Garfie toke god hede,
Hou his folk to grounde yede,
And no lengere he ne abood,
Toward his pauilons he rood.
And Otuwel anoon byheld,
There he rod in the feld,
And warende fore anon tho,
Roulond and Oliuer bo,

OTUEL, A KNIGHT. 83
And Ogger that doughty knight,
That king Garfie was tornd to flight.
Tho Roulond and Oliuer,
And the gode knight Ogger,
Sien where king Garfie rood,
Ther nas non that lengere a-bood,
Hafteliche the wey thei nomen,
And to king Garfie thei comen.
King Garfie was afered to deye,
And bigan merfi to crie,
And feide, for fothe that he wolde
Of king Charles, his lond holde,
And ben at eche parlement,
Redi at his comaundement.
King Garfie feide this,
For his loue that youre good is,
Taketh me on Hue, and fle me nought,
Leet mi lif be for bought,
And let me as a prifoner goon,
Bi fore king Charles anoon,
And don him omage with myn hon[d],
To holden of him al mi lond.
Thanne feide Otuwel,
That was doughti knight and fnel,
To Roulond and to Oliuer,
And to the gode knight Ogger,
Nou he haueth this gift i-giue,
I rede, that we laten him Hue.
Bifore the king he fchall be brought,
For Gode, we nulle flen him nought,
An thei acenteden therto,
And feiden, it wile be wel i-do,
And withouten any targing,

84 OTUEL, A KNIGHT.
Thei ladden him bifore the king.
Thanne feide Otuwel, that gode knight,
To king Charles anon right,
Sire, he feide, her is Garfie,
That sumtime thratte the to die,
He wile nou, yif thi wille be,
Do the omage and feaute,
And ben at thi comaundement,
And at eche parlement,
Al redi at thin hond,
And holden of the al his lond,
And for his lond rente giue,
With the none he mote Hue.

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