5 10 15 20 25 30 35 40 45 50 55 60 65 70 75 80 85 90 95 100 105 110 115 120 125 130 135 140 145 150 155 160 165 170 175 180 185 190 195 200 205 210 215 220 225 230 235 240 245 250 255 260 265 270 275 280 285 290 295 300 305 310 315 320 325 330 335 340 345 350 355 360 365 370 375 380 385 390 395 400 405 410 415 420 425 430 435 440 445 450 455 460 465 470 475 480 485 490 495 500 505 510 515 520 525 530 535 540 545 550 555 560 565 570 575 580 585 590 595 600 605 610 615 620 625 630 635 640 645 650 655 660 665 670 675 680 685 690 695 700 705 710 715 720 725 730 735 740 745 750 755 760 765 770 775 780 785 790 795 800 805 810 815 820 825 830 835 840 845 850 855 860 865 870 875 880 885 890 895 900 905 910 915 920 925 930 935 940 945 950 955 960 965 970 975 980 985 990 995 1000 1005 1010 1015 1020 1025 1030 1035 1040 1045 1050 1055 1060 1065 1070 1075 1080 1085 1090 1095 1100 1105 1110 1115 1120 1125 1130 1135 1140 1145 1150 1155 1160 1165 1170 1175 1180 1185 1190 1195 1200 1205 1210 1215 1220 1225 1230 1235 1240 1245 1250 1255 1260 1265 1270 1275 1280 1285 1290 1295 1300 1305 1310 1315 1320 1325 1330 1335 1340 1345 1350 1355 1360 1365 1370 1375 1380 1385 1390 1395 1400 1405 1410 1415 1420 1425 1430 1435 1440 1445 1450 1455 1460 1465 1470 1475 1480 1485 1490 1495 1500 1505 1510 1515 1520 1525 1530 1535 1540 1545 1550 1555 1560 1565 1570 1575 1580 1585 1590 1595 1600 1605 1610 1615 1620 1625 1630 1635 1640 1645 1650 1655 1660 1665 1670 1675 1680 1685 1690 1695 1700 1705 1710 1715 1720 1725 1730 1735 1740 1745 1750 1755 1760 1765 1770 1775 1780 1785 1790 1795 1800 1805 1810 1815 1820 1825 1830 1835 1840 1845 1850 1855 1860 1865 1870 1875 1880 1885 1890 1895 1900 1905 1910 1915 1920 1925 1930 1935 1940 1945 1950 1955 1960 1965 1970 1975 1980 1985 1990 1995 2000 2005 2010 2015 2020 2025 2030 2035 2040 2045 2050 2055 2060 2065 2070 2075 2080 2085 2090 2095 2100 2105 2110 2115 2120 2125 2130 2135 2140 2145 2150 2155 2160 2165 2170 2175 2180 2185 2190 2195 2200 2205 2210 2215 2220 2225 2230 2235 2240 2245 2250 2255 2260 2265 2270 2275 2280 2285 2290 2295 2300 2305 2310 2315 2320 2325 2330 2335 2340 2345 2350 2355 2360 2365 2370 2375 2380 2385 2390 2395 2400 2405 2410 2415 2420 2425 2430 2435 2440 2445 2450 2455 2460 2465 2470 2475 2480 2485 2490 2495 2500 2505 2510 2515 2520 2525 2530 2535 2540 2545 2550 2555 2560 2565 2570 2575 2580 2585 2590 2595 2600 2605 2610 2615 2620 2625 2630 2635 2640 2645 2650 2655 2660 2665 2670 2675 2680 2685 2690 2695 2700 2705 2710 2715 2720 2725 2730 2735 2740 2745 2750 2755 2760 2765 2770 2775 2780 2785 2790 2795 2800 2805 2810 2815 2820 2825 2830 2835 2840 2845 2850 2855 2860 2865 2870 2875 2880 2885 2890 2895 2900 2905 2910 2915 2920 2925 2930 2935 2940 2945 2950 2955 2960 2965 2970 2975 2980 2985 2990 2995 3000 3005 3010 3015 3020 3025 3030 3035 3040 3045 3050 3055 3060 3065 3070 3075 3080 3085 3090 3095 3100 3105 3110 3115 3120 3125 3130 3135 3140 3145 3150 3155 3160 3165 3170 3175 3180 3185 3190 3195 3200 3205 3210 3215 3220 3225 3230 3235 3240 3245 3250 3255 3260 3265 3270 3275 3280 3285 3290 3295 3300 3305 3310 3315 3320 3325 3330 3335 3340 3345 3350 3355 3360 3365 3370 3375 3380 3385 3390 3395 3400 3405 3410 3415 3420 3425 3430 3435 3440 3445 3450 3455 3460 3465 3470 3475 3480 3485 3490 3495 3500 3505 3510 3515 3520 3525 3530 3535 3540 3545 3550 3555 3560 3565 3570 3575 3580 3585 3590 3595 3600 3605 3610 3615 3620 3625 3630 3635 3640 3645 3650 3655 3660 3665 3670 3675 3680 3685 3690 3695 3700 3705 3710 3715 3720 3725 3730 3735 3740 3745 3750 3755 3760 3765 3770 3775 3780 3785 3790 3795 3800 3805 3810 3815 3820 3825 3830 3835 3840 3845 3850 3855 3860 3865 3870 3875 3880 3885 3890 3895 3900 3905 3910 3915 3920 3925 3930 3935 3940 3945 3950 3955 3960 3965 3970 3975 3980 3985 3990 3995 4000 4005 4010 4015 4020 4025 4030 4035 4040 4045 4050 4055 4060 4065 4070 4075 4080 4085 4090 4095 4100 4105 4110 4115 4120 4125 4130 4135 4140 4145 4150 4155 4160 4165 4170 4175 4180 4185 4190 4195 4200 4205 4210 4215 4220 4225 4230 4235 4240 4245 4250 4255 4260 4265 4270 4275 4280 4285 4290 4295 4300 4305 4310 4315 4320 4325 4330 4335 4340 4345 4350 4355 4360 4365 4370 4375 4380 4385 4390 4395 4400 4405 4410 4415 4420 4425 4430 4435 4440 4445 4450 4455 4460 4465 4470 4475 4480 4485 4490 4495 4500 4505 4510 4515 4520 4525 4530 4535 4540 4545 4550 4555 4560 4565 4570 4575 4580 4585 4590 4595 4600 4605 4610 4615 4620 4625 4630 4635 4640 4645 4650 4655 4660 4665 4670 4675 4680 4685 4690 4695 4700 4705 4710 4715 4720 4725 4730 4735 4740 4745 4750 4755 4760 4765 4770 4775 4780 4785 4790 4795 4800 4805 4810 4815 4820 4825 4830 4835 4840 4845 4850 4855 4860 4865 4870 4875 4880 4885 4890 4895 4900 4905 4910 4915 4920 4925 4930 4935 4940 4945 4950 4955 4960 4965 4970 4975 4980 4985 4990 4995 5000 5005 5010 5015 5020 5025 5030 5035 5040 5045 5050 5055 5060 5065 5070 5075 5080 5085 5090 5095 5100 5105 5110 5115 5120 5125 5130 5135 5140 5145 5150 5155 5160 5165 5170 5175 5180 5185 5190 5195 5200 5205 5210 5215 5220 5225 5230 5235 5240 5245 5250 5255 5260 5265 5270 5275 5280 5285 5290 5295 5300 5305 5310 5315 5320 5325 5330 5335 5340 5345 5350 5355 5360 5365 5370 5375 5380 5385 5390 5395 5400 5405 5410 5415 5420 5425 5430 5435 5440 5445 5450 5455 5460 5465 5470 5475 5480 5485 5490 5495 5500 5505 5510 5515 5520 5525 5530 5535 5540 5545 5550 5555 5560 5565 5570 5575 5580 5585 5590 5595 5600 5605 5610 5615 5620 5625 5630 5635 5640 5645 5650 5655 5660 5665 5670 5675 5680 5685 5690 5695 5700 5705 5710 5715 5720 5725 5730 5735 5740 5745 5750 5755 5760 5765 5770 5775 5780 5785 5790 5795 5800 5805 5810 5815 5820 5825 5830 5835 5840 5845 5850 5855 5860 5865 5870 5875 5880 5885 5890 5895 5900 5905 5910 5915 5920 5925 5930 5935 5940 5945 5950 5955 5960 5965 5970 5975 5980 5985 5990 5995 6000 6005 6010 6015 6020 6025 6030 6035 6040 6045 6050 6055 6060 6065 6070 6075 6080 6085 6090 6095 6100 6105 6110 6115 6120 6125 6130 6135 6140 6145 6150 6155 6160 6165 6170 6175 6180 6185 6190 6195 6200 6205 6210 6215 6220 6225 6230 6235 6240 6245 6250 6255 6260 6265 6270 6275 6280 6285 6290 6295 6300 6305 6310 6315 6320 6325 6330 6335 6340 6345 6350 6355 6360 6365 6370 6375 6380 6385 6390 6395 6400 6405 6410 6415 6420 6425 6430 6435 6440 6445 6450 6455 6460 6465 6470 6475 6480 6485 6490 6495 6500 6505 6510 6515 6520 6525 6530 6535 6540 6545 6550 6555 6560 6565 6570 6575 6580 6585 6590 6595 6600 6605 6610 6615 6620 6625 6630 6635 6640 6645 6650 6655 6660 6665 6670 6675 6680 6685 6690 6695 6700 6705 6710 6715 6720 6725 6730 6735 6740 6745 6750 6755 6760 6765 6770 6775 6780 6785 6790 6795 6800 6805 6810 6815 6820 6825 6830 6835 6840 6845 6850 6855 6860 6865 6870 6875 6880 6885 6890 6895 6900 6905 6910 6915 6920 6925 6930 6935 6940 6945 6950 6955 6960 6965 6970 6975 6980 6985 6990 6995 7000 7005 7010 7015 7020 7025 7030 7035 7040 7045 7050 7055 7060 7065 7070 7075 7080 7085 7090 7095 7100 7105 7110 7115 7120 7125 7130 7135 7140 7145 7150 7155 7160 7165 7170 7175 7180 7185 7190 7195 7200 7205 7210 7215 7220 7225 7230 7235 7240

Hic incipit vita Ricardi Regis primi Lord Jhesu, kyng of glorye, Whyche grace and vyctorye Thou sente to Kyng Rychard, That nevere was founde coward! It is ful good to here in jeste Of his prowess and hys conqueste. Fele romaunces men maken newe, Of goode knyghtes, stronge and trewe. Of here dedys men rede romaunce, Both in Engeland and in Franse: Of Rowelond and of Olyver, And of every doseper; Of Alisaundre and Charlemayn, Of Kyng Arthour and of Gawayn, How they were knyghtes goode and curteys; Of Turpyn and Oger Daneys. Of Troy men rede in ryme, What werre ther was in olde tyme; Of Ector and of Achylles, What folk they slowe in that pres. In Frenssche bookys this rym is wrought, Lewede men ne knowe it nought. Lewede men cune Frensch non, Among an hondryd unnethis on; And nevertheless, with glad chere, Fele of hem that wolde here Noble jestes, I undyrstande, Of doughty knyghtes of Yngelonde. Therfore now I wole yow rede Of a kyng doughty in dede. Kyng Rychard, the werryour beste That men fynde in ony jeste. Now alle that here this talkyng, God geve hem alle good endyng!     Lordynges, herkenes before How Kyng Rychard was gete and bore. Hys fadyr hyghte Kyng Henry. In hys tyme, sykyrly, Als I fynde in my sawe, Seynt Thomas was islawe At Cauntyrbury at the awter stone. There manye myraclys are idon.     When he was twenty wyntyr olde, He was a kyng swythe bolde. He wolde no wyf, I understonde, With gret tresore though he here fonde. Nevyrtheles hys barouns hym redde That he grauntyd a wyf to wedde. Hastely, he sente hys sondes Into manye diverse londes: The feyreste wymman that wore on lyf, Men schold brynge hym to wyf. Messangeres were redy dyght, To schippe they wente that ylke nyght. Anon the sayl up thay drowgh; The wynd hem servyd wel inowgh. Whenne they come on mydde the see, No wynd onethe hadden hee. Therfore hem was swythe woo. Another schip they countryd thoo, Swylk on ne seygh they nevere non. Al it was whyt of ruel bon, And every nayl with gold begrave. Of pure gold was the stave. Here mast was yvory. Of samyte the sayl, wytterly, Here ropes were of Tuely sylk, Al so whyte as ony mylk, That noble schyp al with oute, With clothis of gold spred aboute, And here loof and here wyndas, Of asure, forsothe it was!     In that schyp ther were idyght, Knyghtes and laydyys of mekyl myght; And a lady therinne was, Bryght as the sunne thorwgh the glas. Here men aborde gunne to stande, And sesyd that other to here hande, And prayde hem for to dwelle, And here counsayl for to telle. And they grauntyd with alle skylle, For to telle al at here wylle. “Swoo wyde landes we have went, For Kyng Henry us has sent For to seke hym a qwene, The fayreste that myghte founde bene.” Up ros a kyng off a chayere, With that word they spoke there. The chayer was charbocle ston: Swylk on ne sawgh they nevere non; And two dukes hym besyde, Noble men and mekyl of pryde, And welcomed the messangers ylkone. Into that schyp they gunne gone, Thrytty knyghtes, withouten lye, For sothe, was in that cumpanye! Into that ryche schyp they went, As messangeres that weren isent. Knyghtes and ladyes come hem aghen, Sevene score and moo, I wene, Welcomyd hem alle at on wurd. They sette tresteles and layde a bord. Cloth of sylk theron was sprad, And the kyng hym selven bad requested That hys doughtyr were forth fette, And in a chayer before hym sette. Trumpes begonne for to blowe, Sche was fet forth in a throwe, With twenty knyghtes here aboute, And moo of ladyes that were stoute, Alle they gunne knele here twoo, And aske here what she wolde han doo. They eeten and drank and maden hem glade, As the kyng hym self hem bade. Whenne they hadde nygh ieete, Aventures to speke they nought forgete. The kyng hem tolde in hys resoun, It com hym thorwgh a vysyoun: In hys land that he cam froo, Into Yngelond for to goo, And hys doughtyr that was so dere, For to wende bothe in fere. “In this manere we have us dyght, Into that lond to wende ryght.” Thenne answeryd a messanger, Hys name was callyd Bernager: “Forthere wole we seke nought, To my lord sche schal be brought. When he with eyen schal sen, Fol wel payed wole he ben.”     The wynd aros out of the northeste, And servede hem right with the beste. At the Tour they gunne arryve, To londe the knyghtes wente belyve. The messangeres the kyng have told Of that lady, fayre and bold, Ther he lay in the Tour, Of that lady whyt so flour. Kyng Henry gan hym sone dyght, With erl, baroun, and manye a knyght, Agayn the lady for to wende, For he was curteys and hende. The damysele on londe was led, And clothis of gold before here spred, And here fadyr here beforn before her With a coroun of gold icorn. The messangers by ylke a syde, And menstralles with mekyl pryde. Kyng Henry lyghte in hyyng, And grette fayre that uncouth kyng. And that fayre lady alsoo: “Welcome be ye me alle too.” To Westemenstre they wente in fere, Lordyges and ladyys that ther were. Trumpes begonne for to blowe, To mete they wente in a throwe. Knyghtes served there good spede, Of what to telle it is no nede. And aftyr mete, in hyyng Spak Kyng Henry, oure kyng, To the kyng that sat in same: “Leve sere, what is thy name?” “My name,” he sayde, “is Corbaryng. Of Antyoche I am kyng.” And tolde hym in hys resoun, He cam thedyr thorwgh a vysyoun. “Forsothe, sere, I telle thee, I hadde elles brought more meyné Manye moo, withouten fayle, And moo schyppys with vytayle.” Thenne askyd he that lady bryght, “What hyghtest you, my swete wyght?” “Cassodorien, withouten lesyng.” Thus answeryd sche the kyng. “Damysele,” he seyde, “bryght and schene, Wylt thou dwelle and be my qwene?” Sche answeryd with wordys stylle, “Sere, I am at my faderys wylle.” Here fadyr grauntyd thenne ful sone, Al hys wyl scholde be done, Hastely that she were wedde As qwene unto kynges bedde. And prayed hym for hys curtesy, It moste be don prevyly.    The spousyng was idon that nyght; Theratte daunsyd many a knyght. Mekyl joye was hem among. A preest on morwe the messe song; Beforn the elevacyoun, The qwene fel in swowne adon. The folk wondryd and were adrad. Into a chambyr sche was lad, Sche seyde, “For I am thus ishent: I dar nevere see no sacrement.” Here fadyr on morwe took hys leve; No lengere wolde he there beleve.    The kyng dwellyd with hys qwene; Chyldren they hadden hem bytwene, Twoo knaves and a mayde, Forsothe, as the book us sayde. Rychard hyghte the fyrste, iwis, Of whom this romaunce imakyd is. Jhon that other forsothe was. The thrydde, hys sustyr, Topyas. Thus they dwellyd in fere To the fyftenthe yere.    On a day before the Rode, The kyng at hys masse stode. There com an erl of gret pousté power “Sere,” he sayde, “hou may this be That my lady, youre wyf, the qwene, The sacrement ne dar nought sene? Geve us leve to don here dwelle, Fro that begynnes the gospelle Tyl the messe be sungge and sayd, And you schalt se a queynte brayd.” The kyng grauntyd with good wylle, To holden here with strengthe stylle. “Neyther for wele, neyther for woo, Let here nought out fro kyrke goo.” And whene the belle began to ryng, The preest scholde make the sakeryng Out of the kyrke sche wolde away. The erl, “For Gode,” sayde “nay. Lady, you schalt here abyde For ony thyng that may betyde.” Sche took here doughtyr in here hond, And Johan her sone she wolde not wonde,1 Out of the rofe she gan her dyght, Openly, before all theyr syght. Johan fell frome her in that stonde, And brake his thygh on the grounde; And with her doughter she fled her waye, That never after she was isey.     The kynge wondred of that thynge, That she made suche an endynge. For love that he was served so, rewarded; Wolde he never after come there ne go. He let ordeyne after his endynge, His sone, Rycharde, to be kynge. Crowned after Kynge Harry, Thus was Rycharde, sykerly, That was in his fifteenth yere. He was a man of grete powere. Dedes of armes he gave hym to, As falleth for kynges and knyghtes to do. He waxed so stronge and so wyght, Ayenst hym had no man no myght. In every stede he toke honoure, As a noble kynge and conqueroure.    The fyrst yere that he was kynge, At Salysbury he made a justynge, And commaunded every man to be there, Bothe with shelde and with spere. Erles and barons, everychone, At home ne dwelled never one, On forfeyture on lyfe and londe: For nothynge that they ne wonde. This was cryed, I understond, Thorughout all Englonde. All was for to loke and se, The knyghtes that best myght be. There they came all at his wyll, His commaundement to fulfyll. The partyes were sonder set, Togyder they ran without let. Kynge Rycharde gan hym dysguyse In a full stronge queyntyse. He came out of a valaye For to se of theyr playe, As a knyght aventurous. His atyre was orgulous; All togyder cole blacke Was hys horse, without lacke. Upon his creste a raven stode That yaned as he were wode, And aboute his necke a bell, Wherfore the reason I shall you tell. The kynde of the raven is In travayll for to be, iwis. Sygnyfyaunce of the bell, With holy chyrche to dwell, And them to noy and to greve That be not in the ryght byleve. He bare a shafte that was grete and stronge. It was fourtene fote longe, And it was grete and stoute: One and twenty inches aboute. The fyrst knyght that he there mette, Full egerly he hym grette With a dente amyd the shelde. His horse he bare downe in the felde, And the knyght fell to grounde, Full nye deed in that stounde. The next that he mette thare, A grete stroke he hym bare. His gorgere with his cornell tho, His necke he brake there a two. His horse and he fell to grounde, And dyed bothe in that stounde. Kynge Rycharde harde gan hove and abyde, Yf ony mo wolde to hym ryde. Trumpettes began for to blowe, Knyghtes justed in that rowe, Another knyght, hardy and good, Sate on a stede rede as blode. He dyde hym arme and well dyght, In all that longed to suche a knyght. A shafte he toke, grete and longe, That was so hevy and stronge, And sayd he wolde to hym ryde, Yf he durste hym abyde. Trumpettes began to blowe than; Therby wyste many a man knew That they sholde juste mere, The noble knyghtes that there were. Kynge Rycharde of hym was ware, And a spere to hym he bare, And encountred hym in the felde; He bare awaye halfe his shelde, His pusen therwith gan gone, And also his brandellet bone, His vyser and his gorgere. Hym repented that he came there! Kynge Rycharde hoved and behelde, And thought to rest hym in the felde, Yf there were other knyght or swayne That wolde more ryde hym agayne. He sawe there wolde come none; On his waye he gan forth gone Into a wode out of theyr syght, And in another tyre he hym dyght. Upon a stede rede as blode, With all the tyre that on hym stode, Horse and shelde, armure and man, That no man sholde knowe hym than. Upon his creste a rede hounde: The tayle henge to the grounde. That was sygnyfycacyon The hethen folke to brynge downe, Them to slee for Goddes love, And Crysten men to brynge above. Styll he hoved and bode thore; To them he thought to ryde more. He rode the thronge all aboute, He helde within and withoute. A baron he sawe hym besyde; Towarde hym he gan ryde. To a squyer he toke his spere: To hym he wolde it not bere Forth he toke a mansell, A stroke he thought to be set well On his helme that was so stronge. Of that dente the fyre out spronge. The baron tourned hym asyde, And sayd, “Felowe, forth thou ryde, With thy peres go and playe! Come no more here, I thee praye, And sykerly, yf thou do, Thou shalte have a knocke or two.” Kynge Rycharde wondred in his thought That he set his stroke at nought, And came agayne by another waye, And thought to make a better paye. In his styrope up he stode, And smote to hym with irefull mode. He set his stroke on his yron hat, But that other in his sadell sat. Hastely, without wordes mo, His mase he toke in his honde tho That was made of yotyn bras. He wondred who that it was, Such a stroke he hym lente, That Rycharde feet out of his steropes wente. For plate, ne for acketton,2 For hawberke, ne for campeson, Suche a stroke he never had none ore That dyde him halfe so moche sore. Full swythe awaye he gan ryde, Out of the prees there besyde. To hym selfe he sayd tho: “Of suche strokes kepe I no mo!” He wente adowne to a well, And with his helme dranke his fell, And he watred his stede also.    In the thyrde atyre he let hym do,3 All his atyre whyte as mylke. His croper was of sylke. Upon his shulder a crosse rede, That betokeneth Goddes dede death With his enemyes for to fyght, To wynne the Crosse, if that he myght. Upon his heed a dove whyte, Sygnyfycacyon of the Holy Spyryte, To be bolde to wynne the pryse, And dystroye Goddes enemyes.    To the Kynge Rycharde gan hym dyght Against; Than another noble knyght. Fouke Doly was his name. The kynge hym loved for his fame. To hym a stroke he dyght, Well to paye with all his myght. He smote hym on his bassenet, A grete dente without let. It foundred to his cheke bone. Syr Fouke bad hym forth gone, That he no lenger abyde, In aventure yf ony stroke betyde. The kynge sawe he felte no sore, And thought to gyve hym more, And another stroke he hym brayde. His mase upon his heed he layde; With good wyll that stroke he set. The baron thought he wolde hym let, And with his hevy mase of stele, There he gave the kynge his dele That his helme all torove, And he over his sadell drove, And his steropes he forbare. Such a stroke had he never are. He was so astonyed of that dente, That nye he had his lyfe lente, And for that stroke that hym was gyven, He ne wyst whether it was daye or even. Tho he recovered of his swowe, To his palays he hym drowe.    Than he commaunded hastely Herodes for to make crye, And every man for to wende Home to his owne frende. The kynge anone a messengere Full prevely he sente there To Syr Thomas of Multon That was a noble baron, And to Syr Fouke Doly, That they come to hym on hye: “Let them not dwell in no manere. Bydde them come bothe in fere.” The messengere therwith wente, And sayd the kynge after them sente, Swythe for to come hym to, Without delaye that it be do. The knyghtes hyed and were blythe. To the kynge they wente swythe, And hendly they hym grette, And he them toke and by hym sette, And sayd to them wordes free: “Welcome be ye now to me!” In eythyr hond he took on, In to a chaumbyr he bad hem gon. Quod Rychard, “Leve frendes twey, Tel me the sothe, I yow prey, Of these joustes, paramours, What knyght was he that rod best cours? And whiche coulde best his crafte, For to demene well his shafte, With dentes for to fell his foos? Whiche of them wan the loos, And who the styfeste tymbyr brak?” Quod Multoun, “On in atyr blak Com preckande ovyr the falewe feld; Alle that was there tho hym beheeld, Hou he rod as he were wood. Aroume he hovyd and withstood. On hys crest sat a raven swart, And he ne heeld with neyther part. A schafte he bar, styff and strong, Of fourtene foote it was long, On and tweynty ynches aboute. He askyd at al the route, Yf ony durste come and prove A cours, for hys lemannes love, With a knyght aunterous now here. A yonge knyght, a strong bachelere, He hente a schaft and stede bystrod, And to the knyght aunterous he rod. The aunterous with hym mette, Swylke a strok on his scheld he sette That hors and man overthrewe; But there was no man that hym knewe. Trumpys blewe, herowdes gred, And alle othere of hym dred To jouste with hym eft with launse. Enauntyr hym tydde swylk a chaunce. An hardy knyght, stout and savage, Hente a schaft with gret rage. ‘Now he has on of oure felde! Wurthe we nevre for men telde, Sith he hath don us this despyte, Yif he agayn passe quyte, That he ne have fyrste a knok!’ He prykyd forth out of the flok, With a long schaft, stout and quarrey. In myd the cours thenne mette they; The aventurous smote his shelde amyddde, A wonders case our knyght betydde. The aunterous felde hym with yre, Doun off his stede and brak hys swyre. The thrydde knyght to speke bygan: “This is a devyl and no man That our folke felles and sleth! Tyde me lyf, or tyde me deth, I shal mete hym yf I may!” The aunterous with gret deray, So harde to oure knyght he droff, Hys shelde in twoo peses roff. Hys schuldre with hys schafte he brak, And bar hym over hys hors bak, That he fel doun and brak hys arme. He ne dede hym no more harme! The aunterous tho turnyd agayn, And hovyd stylle for to seyn Who durste jouste with hym more. Of hym they were adred ful sore, That non durste jouste with hym eft, Lest he hadde hem here lyf bereft; And whenne he seygh ther com no moo, He rod agayn ther he com froo.    Aftyr the blak, another come; Alle the folk good kep nome. Hys hors and al hys atyr was red; Hym semyd weel to ben a qued. A red hound on hys helme above. He comme to seke and to prove Yif ony jouste with hym dar. Whenne non wolde he was war With schaft to hym make chalenge, He rod doun ryght be the renge. The devyl hym honge where he be! I not what, devyl, him eylid at me!4 Hys schaft a squyer he betook, And behelde me with grymly look, And smot me soo with hys mase, Ne hadde be Jhesu Crystys grace, My swyre hadde gon in twey. I bad hym ryden forth hys wey, Dele with fooles as hymself was. Agayn he com be anothir pas, And gaf me a wel werse than that, But stylle in my sadyl I sat. Tho seyde many a modyr sone, ‘Allas, Ser Thomas of Multone! That he is smete with unskyl!’ My mase I hente with good wyl, I smot hym that alle folk it seyn. Doun off hys hors almost he fleygh, Whenne I hym hadde a stroke iset, And wolde have blyssyd hym bet, No moo strokes wolde he abyde; Awey swythe thenne gan he ryde.”    Whenne Multoun hadde hys tale told, Fouk Doyly, a baroun bold, Seyde to the Kyng Rychard: “The thrydde ther come aftyrward In atyr whyt as snowgh. Ther byheeld hym heyghe and lowgh. In hys scheeld a croys red as blod; A whyte culvere on hys helme stod, He hovyd and beheeld us yerne, Yif ther was ony knyght so sterne, So hardy man and strong of bones, That durste jouste with hym ones. Ther was non so stoute ne gryme, That durste jouste thoo with hym. Doun by the renge he yede doun faste, To me he com ryght at the laste. Iwis, Sere kyng,” quod Sere Fouke, “I wene that knyght was a pouke. With hys mase on my basynet, With hys ryght hand a dynt he set, With wraththe strong and egre mayn, That nygh al stonyd was my brayn. I spak to hym at wurdes fewe: ‘Ryde now forth, you wode schrewe, And pleye with hem that is thy pere. Yif you come eft in this manere, For to be wys I schal thee teche.’ Eft he gan more cunteke seche, A werre strok he gaf me yette, And with my mase I hym grette. Bothe hys styropes he forles; And stonyd he rod out of the pres, And agayn undyr wode bowgh.” Kyng Rychard sat fol stylle and lowgh, And sayde, “Frendys, sykyrly, Takes noght to greef, for it was I, Whenne ye were gaderyd alle in fere, Aunterous I com in this manere, Who so was strengest yow to asaye, And who cowde best strokes paye. Lordyngs,” he sayde, “wete ye nought What I have ordeynyd in thought? The Holy Lond to wende too, We three withoute knyghtes moo, Al in palmeres gyse, The Holy Lond for to devyse. To me, I wole that ye be swore, No man to wete that now is bore, Neyther for wele, ne for woo, Tyl that we comen and goo.” They grauntyd hym hys askyng Wythouten more a gaynsayyng, With hym to lyve and to dye, And lette nought for love ne eye. On the book they layde here hand, To that forwarde for to stand; And kyste hem thenne alle three, Trewe sworn for to bee.    Trumpes blewe and gan to cry, To mete wente they hastyly, meal And on the twentythe day at ende, They were redy for to wende With pyke and with sclavyn, As palmers weren in paynym.    Now they dyghten hem ful yare, These three knyghtes for to fare. They setten up sayl, the wynd was good: They saylyd over the salte flood Into Flaundrys, I you saye, Rychard and hys feres twaye. Forth they wente with glad chere, Thorwgh manye landes, fer and nere, Tyl they come to Braundys, That is a coost of mekyl prys. A noble schyp they founde thare, Into Cyprys redy to fare. The seyl was reysyd, the schyp was strong, And in the see they were long, And at the laste, I undyrstande, At Famagos they come to lande. There they dwellyd fourty dawes, For to lerne landes lawes; And sethen deden hem on the see5 Toward Acres, that ceté, And so forth to Massedoyne, And to the ceté of Babyloyne, And fro thennes to Cesare; Of Nynyve they were ware, And to the cyté of Jerusalem, And to the cyté of Bedlem, And to the cyté of Sudan Turry, And eke alsoo to Ebedy, And to the Castel Orglyous, And to the cyté, Aperyous, To Jaffe and to Safrane, To Taboret and Archane. Thus, they vysytyd the Holy Land, How they myghten wynne it to here hand; And seththen homward they hem dyght, To Yngelond with al here myght.    Whenne they hadde passyd the Grykys se, In Alemayne the palmeres thre, Letten or they myghten goo, That turnyd hem to mekyl woo! I schal yow telle that be here, Herkenes alle in what manere! A goos they dyghte to her dynere, In a taverne there they were. Kyng Rychard the fyr bet, Thomas to the spyte hym set, Fouk Doyly tempryd the woos, Dere aboughte they that goos! Whenne thay hadde drunken wel afyn, A mynstralle com there in, And sayde, “Goode men, wyttyrly Wole ye have ony mynstryalsy?” Rychard bad that he scholde goo, That turnyd hym to mekyl woo! The mynstralle took in mynde, And sayde, “Ye are men unkynde, And yif I may, ye schall forthynk, Ye gaf me neyther mete ne drynk! For gentylmen scholden bede To mynstrall that abouten yede Of here mete, wyn, and ale: For los ryses of mynstrale.”6 He was Ynglysch and well hem knewe, Be speche and syghte, hyde and hewe. Forthe he wente in that tyde To a castell there besyde, And tolde the kynge all and some, That thre men were to the cyté come, Strong men, bolde and fere; In the worlde is not theyr pere. Kynge Rycharde of Englonde was the one man, Fouke Doly was that other than, The thyrde, Thomas of Multon, Noble knyghtes of renowne. In palmers wede they be dyght That no man sholde knowe them ryght. To hym sayd the kynge, “Iwys, That thou haste tolde, yf it sothe is, Thou shalte have thy warysowne, And chose thy selfe a ryche towne.” The kynge commaunded hys knyghtes To arme them in all myghtes: “And go and take them all thre, And swythe brynge them to me!” Forth wente the knyghtes in fere, And toke the palmers at theyr dynere. They were brought before the kynge, And he asked them in hyenge: “Palmers,” he sayd, “Whens be ye?” “Of Englonde,” they sayd, “we be.” “What hyght thou, falowe?” sayd the kynge. “Rycharde,” he sayd, without lesynge. “What hyght thou?” he said to the elder man. “Fouke Doly,” he answered than. “And what thou,” he sayd, “gray here?” “Thomas of Multon,” he sayd there. The kynge asked them all thre, What they dyde in his countré: “I saye you, without lyes, Ye seme well to be spyes! Ye have sene my londe up and downe, I trowe ye thynke me some treasowne.7 For as moche as thou, Syr kynge, And thy barons, without lesynge, Seme not to be thus dyght, Therfore, ye shall with law and ryght, Ben put in a stonge pryson, For ye thynke to do me treason.” Kynge Rycharde sayd, “So mote I thee, Thou dooth unryght, thynketh me, Palmers that gone by the waye, Them to pryson, nyght or daye. Syr kynge, for thy courtesy, Do us palmers no vylony! For His love that we have sought, Let us go and greve us nought, For aventures that may betyde In straunge londes where thou ryde. The kynge commaunded anone, Into pryson them to done. The porter, I understonde, Toke Rycharde by the honde, And his felawes with hym tyte. Lenger had they no respyte, Tyll that other daye at pryme, The kynges sone came in evyll tyme. Wardrewe was his name: He was a knyght of grete fame. He was grete, stronge, and fere; In that londe was not his pere. “Porter,” he sayd, “I praye thee, Thy prysoners lette me see!” The porter sayd, “All at your wyll, Erly or late, loude or styll.” He brought them forth, all thre, Rycharde formest tho came he, Wardrewe spake to hym than: “Arte thou Rycharde, the stronge man, As men saye in eche londe? Darste thou stonde a buffet of my honde? And to morowe I gyve thee leve Suche another me to gyve?” Anone, Kynge Rycharde Graunted to that forwarde. The kynges sone, fyers and proute, Gave Rycharde an eere cloute: The fyre out of his eyen spronge. Rycharde thought he dyde hym wronge And sware his othe by Saynt Martyn: “Tomorowe, I shall paye myn!” Thy kynges sone with good wyll, Badde they sholde have theyr fyll, Bothe of drynke and eke of mete, The best that they wolde ete, That he myght not awyte For feblenes his dente to smyte; And in to bedde be brought to reste, To quyte his that he be preste. The kynges sone was curtese, That nyght he made hym well at ease. On the morowe whan it was daye, Rycharde rose, as I you saye. Waxe he toke, clere and bryght, And sone a fyre he hym dyght, And wexed his hondes by the fyre, Overthwarde and endlonge, be you sure, A strawes brede thycke and more, For he thought to smyte sore With his honde he hath tyght, To make the payne that he hath hyght. The kynges sone came in than To holde forwarde as a trewe man, And before Rycharde he stode, And spake to hym with irefull mode: “Smyte,” he sayd, “with thy myght, As thow art a stalworth knyght, And yf I stope or felde,8 Kepe me never to bere shelde.” Under his cheke Richarde his honde layde, He that it sawe the sothe sayd, Flesshe and skynne awaye he droughe, That he fell downe in a swoughe. In twoo he brak hys cheke bon: He fel doun ded as ony ston.    A knyght sterte to the kyng, And tolde hym this tydyng, That Rychard has hys sone islon. “Allas!” he sayde, “now have I non!” With that worde, he fyl to grounde As man that was in woo ibounde. He swownyd for sorwe at here feet, Knyghtes took hym up ful skeet, And sayde, “Sere, let be that thought, Now it is don, it helpes nought.” The kyng spak thenne an hy To the knyght that stood hym by: “Tel me swythe of this caas, In what manere he ded was.” Stylle thay stood, everylkon, For sorwe ther myghte hym telle non. With that noyse ther come the qwene. “Allas!” sche sayde, “Hou may this bene? Why is this sorwe and this fare? Who has brought yow alle in care?” “Dame,” he sayde, “wost thou nought Thy fayre sone to dethe is brought! Syththen that I was born to man, Swylke sorwe hadde I nevere nan! Alle my joye is turnyd to woo, For sorwe I wole myselven sloo!”    Whenne the qwene undyrstood, For sorwe, sertys, sche wax nygh wood. Her kerchers she drewe and heer also, “Alas,” she sayd, “what shall I do?” Sche qahchyd here self in the vysage, As a wymman that was in a rage. The fase fomyd al on blood, Sche rente the robe that sche in stood, Wrong here handes that sche was born: “In what manere is my sone ilorn?” The kyng sayde, “I telle thee, The knyght here standes, he tolde it me. Now tel thee sothe,” quod the kyng than, “In what manere this dede began; And but thou the sothe seye, An evele deth schalt thou deye.” The knyght callyd the jayler, And bad he scholde stonde ner To bere wytnesse of that sawe, In what maner that he was slawe. The jayler sayde, “Yystyrday at pryme, Youre sone com in evyl tyme To the presoun dore to me. The palmeres he wolde see, And I fette hem forth, anon. The formeste Rychard gan gon. Wardrewe askeyd withouten let Yif he durste stonde hym a buffet, And he wolde hym another stande, As he was trewe knyght in lande, And Rychard sayde, 'Be this lyght, Smyt on, sere, and doo thy myght!' Wardrewe so Rychard smette, That wel nygh he ovyrsette: 'Rychard,' he sayde, 'now bydde I thee, To morwe another now geve thou me.' They departyd in this wyse. At morwen Rychard gan aryse, And youre sone, anon he come, And Rychard agayn hym the way nome, As comenaunt was betwen hem tway. Rychard hym smot, forsothe to say, Evene in twoo hys cheke bon. He fyl doun ded as ony ston. As I am sworn unto yow here, Thus it was, and in this manere.” The kyng sayde with egre wylle: “In presoun they schal leve stylle, And fetters upon theyr fete feste For the dedes that aren unwrest. That he has my sone islawe, He schal dye be ryght lawe.” The porter yede, als he was sent, To don hys lordys comaundement. That day eete they no meete, Ne no drynk myghte they gete.    The kyngys doughtyr lay in here bour, With here maydenys of honour: Margery here name hyght; Sche lovede Rychard with al here myght. At the mydday, before the noone, To the presoun sche wente soone, And with here maydenes three. “Jayler,” sche sayde, “let me see Thy presouns now, hastyly!” “Blethely,” he sayde, “sykyrly.” Forth he fette Rychard anon ryght; Fayre he grette that lady bryght, And sayde to here with herte free, “What is thy wylle, lady, with me?” Whenne sche sawgh hym with eyen twoo, Here love sche caste upon hym thoo. And sayde, “Rycharde, save God above, Of alle thyng, most I thee love!” “Allas!” he sayde in that stounde, “With wrong am I brought to grounde! What myghte my love doo to thee? A pore presoun, as thou may see. This is that othir day igon, That meete ne drynk ne hadde I non!” The lady hadde of hym pyté, And sayde it scholde amendyd bee. Sche commaunded the jaylere, Meete and drynk to fette hym there; “And the yryns from hym take, I comaunde thee for my sake. And aftyr soper, in the evenyng, To my chaumbyr, thou hym bryng In the atyr of a squyer: My self thenne schal kepe hym ther. Be Jhesu Cryst and Seynt Symoun, Thou schalt have thy warysoun!” At even the porter forgat it nought, To here chaumbyr Richard was brought. With that lady he dwellyd stylle, And played with here al hys fylle Tyl the sevenyght day, sykyrly, He yede and com fol prevyly.    He was aspyyd of a knyght, That to here chaumbyr he com o nyght. Prevyly, he tolde the kyng Forleyn was hys doughtyr yyng. The kyng askyd ful soone, “Who thenne, hath that dede idone?” “Rychard,” he sayde, “that tretour! He has don this dyshonour. Sere, be my Crystyndam, I sawgh whenne he yede and cam.”    The kyng in herte sykyd sore, To hym thenne spak he no more, But swythe, withouten fayle, He sente aftyr hys counsayle, Erlys, barouns, and wyse clerkes, To telle of these wooful werkes. The messangers gunne forth gon, Hys counsaylleres, they comen anon. By that it was the fourtenthe day, The counsaylers comen, as I yow say. Al with on they gretten the kyng, The sothe to saye withouten lesyng. “Lordynges,” he sayde, “welcome alle!” They wente hem forth into an halle, Among hem the kyng hym set. And sayde to hem, withouten let, “Why I have aftyr you sent, To geve a traytour jugement That has don me gret tresoun: Kyng Rychard is in my presoun.” Alle he tolde hem in hys sawe, Hou he hadde hys sone islawe, And hys doughtyr also forlayn: “That he were ded I were ful fayn! But now it is ordeynyd soo, Men schal no kyng to deth doo.” To hym spak a bold baroun: “Hou com Kyng Rychard in presoun? He is halden so noble a kyng, To hym dar no man doo no thyng.” The kyng hym tolde in all wyse, Hou he fond hym in dysgyse, And with hym othere twoo barouns, Noble men of gret renouns. “I took him thorwgh suspeccyoun, In this manere to my presoun.” He took leve at hem ylkone, Into a chaumbyr he bad hem gone For to take here counsayle, What hem myghte best avayle. In here speche they dwellyd thare Thre dayes and sumdel mare. And stryvenn faste als they were wode, With grete erroure and egere mode; Some wolde have hym adawe And some sayde it was no lawe. In this manere, for here jangelyng, They myghte acorde for no thyng. The wyseste sayde, “Verrament We can hym geve no jugement.” Thus answeryd they the kyng, Sertaynly, withouten lesyng. A knyght spak swythe to the kyng: “Sere, greve yow no thyng. Sere Eldryd, for sothe, iwis, He can telle what best is, For he is wys man of red, Manye has he don to ded.” The kyng bad, withouten lette, That he were before hym fette. He was brought before the kyng; He askyd hym in hys sayyng: “Canst thou telle me in ony manere, Of Kyng Rychard that I vengyd were?” He answeryd with herte free: “Theron I moot avysyd be Ye weten weel, it is no lawe, A kyng to hange and to drawe. Ye schal doo be my resoun; Hastely takes youre lyoun, And withhaldes hym hys meete, Three dayes that he nought eete, And Rycharde into chaumbyr ye doo, And lete the lyoun wende hym too. In this manere he schal be slawe. Thenne dost thou nought agayn the lawe. The lyoun schal hym there sloo; Thenne art thou wroken of thy foo.” The mayde aspyyd that resoun, That he scholde dye thorwgh tresoun. And aftyr hym sone sche sente, To warne hym of that jugemente. When he to the chaumbyr com than, “Welcome,” sche sayde, “my lemman. My lord has ordeynyd thee thorwgh red, The thrydde day to be don to ded. Into a chaumbyr thou shalt be doo, A lyoun schal be late thee too, That is forhongryd swythe sore; Thanne wot I wel thou levyste no more! But, leve lemman,” thenne sayde sche, “To nyght we wole of lande flee, With golde and sylver, and gret tresore, Inowgh to have for evre more!” Rychard sayde, “I undyrstande That were agayn the lawe of land, Away to wende withouten leve: The kyng ne wole I nought so greve. Of the lyoun, ne geve I nought, Hym to sle now have I thought. Be pryme on the thrydde day, I geve thee hys herte to pray.” Kevercheves he askyd of sylk, Fourty, whyte as ony mylk: “To the presoun thou hem bryng, A lytyl before the evenyng.” Whenne it to the tyme cam, The wey to the presoun the mayden nam, And with here a noble knyght. Here soper was ful wel idyght. Rychard bad hys twoo feres, Come to hym to here soperes, “And thou, sere Porter, alsoo. The lady comaundes thee thertoo.” That nyght they were glad inowgh, And sythen to the chaumbyr they drowgh; But Rychard and that swete wyght, Dwellyd togedere al that nyght. At morwen whenne it was day, Rychard here preyde to wende here way. “Nay, “ sche sayde, “be God above, I schal dye here for thy love! Ryght now here I wole abyde, Though me scholde the deth betyde. Sertes, henne wole I nought wende: I shall take the grace that god wyll sende.” Rychard sayde, “Lady free, But yif thou wende swythe fro me, Thou schalt greve me so sore That I schal nevere love thee more.” Ther agayn sche sayde, “Nay! Lemman, have now good day. God that deyde upon the tree, Save thee yyf hys wyll bee!” The kevercheves he took on honde, Abouten hys arme he hem wonde. He thoughte with that ylke wyle, To sloo the lyoun with sum gyle, And seyngle in a kertyl he stood, Abood the lyoun, fers and wood. With that com the jaylere, And othere twoo with hym in fere, And the lyoun hem among. Hys pawes were bothe sharpe and long. The chambre dore thay hafe undo, And inn the lyoun lete hym to. Rychard cryyd, “Help, Jhesu!” The lyoun made a gret venu, And wolde have hym al torent; Kyng Rychard thenne besyde he glent, Upon the brest the lyoun he spurnyd, That al aboute the lyoun turnyd. The lyoun was hungry and megre, He beute hys tayl for to be egre, Faste aboute on the wowes. Abrod he spredde alle hys powes, And roynyd lowde and gapyd wyde. Kyng Rychard bethoughte hym that tyde, What it was best, and to hym sterte. In at hys throte hys arme he gerte, Rente out the herte with hys hand, Lungges and lyvere, and al that he fand. The lyoun fel ded to the grounde. Rychard hadde neyther wemme ne wounde. He knelyd doun in that place, And thankyd God of hys grace That hym kepte fro schame and harme. He took the herte, al so warme, And broughte it into the halle Before the kyng and hys men alle. The kyng at meete sat on des With dukes and erles, prowde in pres. The saler on the table stood. Rychard prest out al the blood, And wette the herte in the salt; The kyng and alle hys men behalt, Wythouten bred the herte he eet. The kyng wonderyd and sayde skeet: “Iwis, as I undyrstonde can, This is a devyl, and no man, That has my stronge lyoun slawe, The herte out of hys body drawe, And has it eeten with good wylle. He may be callyed, be ryght skylle, Kyng icrystenyd of most renoun, Stronge Rychard, Coer de Lyoun!”    Now of this lete we bee, And of the kyng speke we. In care and mournyng he ledes hys lyf, And often he calles hymself caytyf, Bannes the tyme that he was born, For hys sone that was forlorn, And hys doughtyr that was bylayn, And hys lyoun that was soo slayn. Erlys and barouns come hym too, And hys qwene dede alsoo, And askyd hym what hym was. “Ye weten weel,” he seyde, “my caas, And why I leve in strong dolour; For Rychard, the strounge traytour, Has me wrought so mekyl woo. I may hym nought to dethe doo; Thefore, I wole for hys sake, Raunsum for hys body take. For my doughtyr that he has schent Agayn the staat of sacrement, Of every kyrke that preest in syng, Messe is sayd, or belle in ryng, There twoo chalyses inne be, That on schal be brought to me; And yyf ther bee moo than thoo, The halvyndel schal come me too. Whenne I am servyd of that fee, Thenne schal Rychard delyveryd bee.” And my doughter for her outrage Shall forgoo her herytage. “Thus,” he sayde, “it schal be doo.” The barouns grauntyd weel thereto. Kyng Rychard they aftyr sente, For to here that ordeynemente.    Kyng Rychard com in to the halle, And grette the kyng and hys men alle. Thenne sayde the kyng: “Verrayment, We have lokyd thorwgh jugement, That thou shalt paye raunsoun, For thee and thy twoo baroun. Of every kyrke in thy land, Thou schalt doo me come to hand,9 There twoo chalys inne bee, That on schal be brought to mee; And yyf there be moo then thoo, The halvyndel schal come me too. Thorwghout thy land, wete it weel, I wole have the halvyndel. Whenne thou hast thus maad thy pay, I geve thee leve to wende thy way, And my doughtyr alsoo with thee, That I yow nevere with eyen see.” Kyng Rychard sayde, “As thou has told, To that forewarde I me hold.” Kyng Rychard, curteys and hende, Seyde, “Who wole for me wende To Engeland to my chaunceler That my raunsoun be payde her? And who so dos it, withouten fayle, I schal aquyte hym weel his travayle.” Up ther stood an hende knyght: “The message I wole doo ful ryght.” Kyng Rychard dede a lettre wryte, A noble clerk it gan adyte, And made therinne mensyoun, More and lesse of the raunsoun. “Gretes weel, as I yow say, Bothe myn erchebysschopys tway, And so ye doo the chaunceler, To serve the lettre in alle maner. In no manere thee lette fayle; Sykyrly, it schal hem avayle.” Hys seel theron he has set; The knyght it takes withouten let. Dyghtes hym and made hym yare Over the see for to fare. Whenne he was theron ibrought, To gon hys way forgat he nought; To London he hyyd hym anon. There he fond hem everylkon. He took the lettrys, as I yow say, To the erchebysschopys tway, And bad hem faste don it rede: It is don for mekyl nede. The chaunceler the wex tobrak, Sone he wyste what to spak. The lettre was rede among hem alle, What therofe scholde befalle, Hou Kyng Rychard with tresoun, In Alemayne dwelles for raunsoun. The kynges sone he has slayn, And also hys doughtyr he hath forlayn, And alsoo slayn hys lyoun: Alle these harmes he hath don. They beden clerkys forth to wende To every kyrke, fer and hende, Hastely, that it were sped, And the tresore to hym led. “Messanger,” thenne sayden hee, “Thou schalt dwelle, and have with thee, Fyve bysschopys to ryde thee by, And fyve barouns, sykyrly, And othere folk inowe with thee. In us ne schal no fawte bee. Of every kyrke, lesse and more, They gaderyd up al the tresore, And over the see thenne are they went, For to make the fayre present. Whenne they comen the cyté too, The ryche kyng they gretten thoo, And sayden as they were bethought: “Sere, thy raunsoun is here brought, Takes it al to youre wyl. Lat goo these men as it is skyl.” “Sayde the kyng, “I geve hem leve. I ne schal hem no more greve.” He took hys doughtyr by the hand, And bad here swythe devoyde his land. The qwene sawgh what scholde falle, Here doughtyr sche gan to chaumbyr calle, And sayde, “Thou schalt dwelle with me, Tyl kyng Rychard sende aftyr thee, As a kyng dos aftyr hys qwene; So I rede that it schal bene.”    Kyng Rychard and hys feres twoo Took here leve and gunne to goo Home agayn unto Yngelonde. Thankyd be Jhesu Crystys sonde, They come to Londoun, that cyté. Hys erles and hys barouns free, They thankyd God, al so blyve That they seygh here lord on lyve. Hys twoo feres wenten home, Here frendes were glad of here come. Bathid here bodyys that were sore, For the travayle that they hadde before. Thus, they dwellyd half a yer, Among here frendes of gret power, Tyl they were stalworth to fond. The kyng comaundyd thorwgh the lond, At London to make a parlement.10 Non withstonde his comaundement, As they wolden saven here lyf, And here chyldren and here wyf. To Londoun to hys somoun, Come erl, bysschop, and baroun, Abbotes, pryours, knyghtes, squyers, Burgeyses and manye bachelers, Serjauntes and every freholdande, The kynges heste to undyrstande.    Befor that tyme a gret cuntré, That was beyonde the Grykkyssche see, Acres, Surry, and fele landes, Were in Crystene mennes handes, And the croys that Cryst was on ded, That boughte us alle fro the qued; And al the cuntree of Bethleem, And the toun of Jerusalem, Of Nazareth and of Jerycho, And al Galylee alsoo. Ylke palmere and ylke pylgryme, That wolde thedyr goo that tyme, Myghte passe with good entent, Withouten ransoun and ony rent, Other of sylvyr or of golde, To every plase that he wolde. Fond he no man hym to myssay, Ne with evele hondes on hym to lay. Of Surry land, the Duke Myloun, Was lord that stounde, a wol bold baroun. Mawgré the Sawdon that lond he heeld, And weryd it weel with spere and scheeld. He and the doughty Erl Renaud, Wel often gaf hym wol hard assaut, And wol often in playn batayle, They slowe knyghtes and gret putayle Of Sarezynys that mysbelevyd: The Sawdon was sore agrevyd.    Lystenes of a tresoun strong Of the Eerl Roys, that was hem among; To whom Myloun tryste mekyl And he was traytour fals and fykyl. The Sawdon stylly to hym sente, And behyghte hym land and rente, The Crystene hoost to betrayen. Whanne he hadde wunne hem, for to payen Of gold many a thousand pounde, The eerl grauntyd hym that stounde. Another traytour, Markes Feraunt, He wyste alsoo of that comenaunt. He hadde part of the gold the eerl took, And aftyrward Crystyndom he forsook. Thus thorwgh tresoun of the Eerl Roys, Surry was lorn and the Holy Croys. The Duke Renaud was hewen smale, Al to pesys, so says oure tale. The Duke Myloun was geven hys lyf, And fleygh out of lande with hys wyf, — He was was heyr of Surry lande, Kyng Bawdewynys sone, I undyrstande — That no man wyste nevere siththe, Where he be come, ne in what kiththe: So that this los and this pyté, Sprong out thorwgh al Crystyanté.    An holy pope that hyghte Urban, Sente to eche a Crystene man, And asoylyd hem of here synne. And gaf hem paradys to wynne, Alle that wolde thedyr gon, To wreke Jhesu of his foon. The kyng of France, withouten fayle, Thedyr he wente with gret vytayle, The duke of Bloys, the duke of Burgoyne, The duke of Ostrych, and the duke of Cessoyne, And the Emperour of Alemayne, And the goode knyghtes of Bretayne, The eerl of Flaunders, the eerl of Coloyne, The eerl of Artays, the eerl of Boloyne. Mekyl folk wente thedyr before, That nygh hadde here lyf forlore, In gret hete and hongyr hard, As ye may here aftyrward.    In hervest, aftyr the nativité, Kyng Richard, with gret solempnyté, At Westemynstyr heeld a ryal feste With bysschop, eerl, baron honeste, Abbotes, knyghtes, swaynes strong. And aftyr mete, hem among The kyng stood up and gan to sayn: “My leve frendes, I wole yow prayn, Beth in pes, lystenes my tale, Erlys, barouns, grete and smale, Bysschop, Abbot, lewyd and lerde, Al Crystyndom may ben aferde! The pope, Urban, has to us sent Hys bulle and hys comaundement: How the Sawdon has fyght begunne, The toun of Acres he has wunne Thorwgh the Eerl Roys and hys trehcherye, And al the kyngdom of Surrye. Jerusalem and the Croys is lorn, And Bethleem, there Jhesu Cryst was born, The Crystene knyghtes ben hangyd and drawe; The Sarezynys have hem now islawe, Crystene men, children, wyf, and grome. Wherefore the lord, the pope of Rome, Is agrevyd and anoyyd That Crystyndom is thus destroyyd. Ilke Crystene kyng he sendes bode, And byddes, in the name of Gode, To wende thedyr with gret hoost, For to felle the Sarezynys bost. Wherefore my self, I have mente, To wende thedyr, with swerdes dent Wynne the Croys, and gete los. Now frendes, what is youre purpos? Wole ye wende? Says ye or nay!” Erles and barouns and all they Sayden: “We ben at on accord: To wende with thee, Rychard, oure lord.” Quod the kyng, “Frendes, gromercy! It is oure honour: lystenes why! Wendes and grauntes the pope hys bon,11 As other Crystene kynges have don. The kyng of Fraunce is wente forth. I rede est, west, south, and north, In Yngelonde that we do crye, And maken a playn croyserye.” Mekyl folk that the croys have nomen, To Kyng Rychard they were comen On hors and foote, wel aparaylyd. Twoo hondryd schyppys ben wel vitailid, With flour, hawberks, swerdys, and knyvys; Thrittene schyppys i-laden with hyvys Of bees, of tymbyr, grete schydys and long He leet make a tour ful strong12 That queynteyly engynours made, Therwith three schyppys were wel lade. Another schyp was laden yet, With an engine hyghte robynet. That was Rychardys o mangenel, And all the takyl that therto fel. Whenne they ware dyght al yare, Out of havene for to fare, Jhesu hem sente wynd ful good, To bere hem over the salte flood. Kyng Rychard sayde to hys schipmen: “Frendes, doth as I yow ken, And maystyr Aleyn Trenchemere, Whether ye come fer or nere, And ye meten be the see stronde, Schyppys of ony other londe, Tho Crystene men, of lyf and leme13 Looke no goodes ye hem beneme; And yyf ye ony Sarezynys mete, Loke on lyve that ye non lete! Catayl, dromoun, and galeye, Al I yow geve unto youre preye; But at the cyté of Marchylé, There, ye moot abyde awhile; Be cable and ankyr for to ryde, Me and myn hoost for to abyde. For I and my knyghtes of mayn Wole hastily wende thorwgh Alemayn To speke with Modard, the kyng, To wete why and for what thyng That he me in presoun heelde; But he my tresore agayn yelde That he of me took with falshede, I schal quyten hym hys mede.” Thus Kyng Rychard, as ye may here, Bycome Goddys owne palmere Agayns Goddys wythirhynys. The erchebysschop, Sere Bawdewynys, Before wente with knyghtys fyn Be Braundys and be Constantyn, And al ther last thenne aftyrward Thenne come the doughty Kyng Rychard. Three hoostes Kyng Richard gan make Into hethenesse, for Goddys sake: In the forme warde hym self wolde be, With hardy men of gret pousté, That other ledes Fouke Doyly, Thomas, the thrydde, sykerly. Every hoost with hym gan lede Fourty thousande goode at nede; Non therinne but man of myght That were wel provyd in werre and fyght Kyng Richard callyd hys justys: “Lokes that ye doo be my devys, My land kepes with skele and lawe: Traytours lookes ye honge and drawe. In my stede schal be here The bysschop of York, my chauncelere. I wole that ye ben at hys wylle, To wyrke aftyr ryght and skylle, That I hereaftyr here no stryf, As ye wole save youre owne lyf! And in the name of God Almyght, Ledes the pore men be ryght!” Thertoo heeld they up here hand, With ryght to lede al Yngeland. Bysschopys gaf hem here benysoun, And prayde for hem in kyrke and toun; And prayde Jhesu Cryst hem spede, In hevene to quyten hem here mede.    Now is Kyng Rychard passid the see; Sone he delte hys hoost in thre. For he wolde nought folk anoye, And here goodes nought destroye, Ne nothyng take withouten pay. The kyng comaundyd, as I yow say, Every hoost fro othir ten myle; Thus he ordeynyd that whyle, In the myddyl hoost hym self to ryde, And hys hoostes on bothe syde. Forth they wenten withouten ensoyne, To the cyté of Coloyne. The hye mayre of that cyté Comaundyd, as I schal telle thee, No man selle hem no fowayle, For no thyng that myghte avayle. The styward tolde Richard, the kyng, Sone anon of that tydyng, That he myghte no fowayle beye, Neyther for love, neyther for eye. “Thus defendes Modard, the kyng, For he hates yow ovyr alle thyng. Weel he woot that ye have swore Al that ye take to paye therfore; Ye wole take with no maystry; Therfore, he wenes, sykyrly That ye schal have mete non; Thus he thynkes youre men to slon.” Kyng Richard answerid as hym thought: “That ne schal us lette nought. Now styward, I warne thee, Bye us vessel, gret plenté, Dysschys, cuppys, and sawsers, Bolles, treyes, and plateres, Fattys, tunnes and costret, Makes oure mete withouten let, Whether ye wole sethe or brede; And the pore men also, God yow spede, That ye fynde in the toun, That they come at my somoun.” Whenne the mete was greythid and dyght, The kyng comaundyd to a knyght After the mayr for to wende, For he is curteys and hende. The mayr come, as I have sayde, Bord and cloth was redy layde. Anon they were to borde sette, And fayr servyse before hem fette. Kyng Rychard askyd in hyyng: “Sere mayr, where is thy lord, the kyng?” “Sere,” he sayde, “at Gumery, Sykyrly, withouten ly, And alsoo, my lady, the qwene. The thrydde day ye schal hem sene, And Margery, hys doughtyr free, That of youre comyng wol glad wil be.” They waschede as it was lawe of land, A messanger ther come rydand, Upon a stede whyt so mylke, Hys trappys were of tuely sylk, With fyve hondryd belles ryngande, Wel fayr of syghte, I undirstande. Doun off hys stede he lyght, And grette Kyng Rychard fayr, I plyght: “The kynges doughtyr that is so free, Sche gretes thee weel by me. With an hondryd knyghtes and moo, Sche comes ar thou to bedde goo.” Kyng Rychard answeryd in hyyng: “Welcome,” he sayde, “ovyr alle thyng!” He made at ease the messangere, With glad semblaunt and merye chere, And gaf hym a cloth of golde, For he was to hym leef iholde. They come to hym that ylke nyght, The knyghtes and the lady bryght. Whenne Kyng Rychard myghte here see, “Welcome, lemman,” sayde hee. Ayther of hem othir gan kysse, And made mekyl joye and blysse. Thenne they dwellyd tyl it were day, At morwen they wenten in here way.    At mydday, before the noon, They comen to a cyté boon, The name was callyd Marburette. There the kyng hym wolde lette. Hys marschal swythe come hym too: “Sere,” he sayde, “Hou schole we doo? Swylk fowayle as we boughte yistyrday? For no catel gete I may.” Rychard answereyd with herte free: “Of froyt here is gret plenté, Fyggys, and raysyns in frayel, And notes may serve us fol wel, And wex sumdel caste thertoo, Talwgh and grese menge alsoo; And thus ye may oure mete make, Seththen ye mowe non other take.” There they dwellyd al that nyght; On the morwe to wenden they have ityght To the cyté of Carpentras. There Kyng Modard hymself in was. Further thenne myghte he fle hym nought; Thorwgh the land he hadde hym sought. Kyng Rychard hys hostel gan take, There he gan hys ferste wrake With gret wrong agayn the ryght, For the goos that he hadde dyght.    Kyng Modard wot Rychard is come, Weel he wenes to be nome, And in presoun ay to bee, “But yyf my doughtyr helpe me!” Sche come to hym there he sat: “What now, fadyr, hou is that?” “Sertes, doughtyr, I gete blame; But yif thou helpe, I goo to schame!” “Sertes, sere,” sche sayde than, “As I am gentyl womman, Yyf ye wole be mylde of mood, Kyng Rychard wole do yow but good. But grauntes hym with good wylle, That he wil aske, and fulfylle, And dos yow al in hys mercy, Ye schole be kyssyd, be oure ledy! Ye that have ben soo wrothe, Ful fayre accordyd ye schal be bothe, And eke, alsoo my lady, the qwene, Goode frendes thenne schole ye bene.”    Sche took here fadyr and with hym yede, To Kyng Rychard, as I yow rede And alsoo erles and barouns moo, And syxty knyghtes withouten thoo. Kyng Richard sawth hou that he come, The way agayns hym he gan nom. Kyng Modard on knees hym sette, There Kyng Richard ful fayre he grette, And sayde, “Sere, I am at thy wille.” Sayde Rychard, “I wole nought but skylle.14 With so thou yelde agayn my tresore, I schal thee love for everemore, Love thee and be thy frende.” Quod Kyng Modard, “My sone hende, I wole ye swere upon a book, Redy is it I of thee took: Redy is al thy tresore, Yyf thou wylt have it and mekyl more, I schal thee geve, my pes to make.” Kyng Rychard gan hym in armes take, And kyste hym ful fele sythe: They were frendes and made hem blythe. That ylke day Kyng Modard Eet, iwis, with Kyng Rychard.    And aftyr mete, sone and swythe, Kyng Rychard spak with wordis blythe To the kyng that sat hym by: “Welcome be thou, sykyrly! Sere, of thy love, I praye thee, Of thyn help to wende with me To hethynnesse, withouten fayle, For Goddes love to geve batayle.” The kyng grauntyd al in grith, Al hys land-folk to wende hym with, “And myself to wende theretoo.” “Nay,” quod Rychard, “I wole nought soo, Thou art to old to beker in fyght, But I pray thee that thou me dyght An hondryd knyghtes, styff to stande, And the beste in al thy lande; And of vytayle, redy bon, For al a yer that it be don, And squyers that falles hem too.” The kyng grauntyd to be soo. “Another thyng I schall thee geve That may thee helpe whyl that thou leve: Twoo ryche rynges of gold, The stones thereinne be fol bold. Hennes to the lond of Ynde, Betere thenne schalt thou non fynde; For who soo has that on ston, Watyr ne schal hym drenche non. That othir ston, who so it bere, Fyr ne schal hym nevere dere. “Sere,” quod Rychard, “graunt mercy!” Hys knyghtes weren dyght al redy, Serjauntes of armes and squyers, Stedes chargyd and destrers, With armure and othir vytayle; Kyng Richard wente with hys parayle, To Marcyle they gunne ryde, And hys hoostes on bothe syde. Fouk Doyly, Thomas of Multoun, Duke, eerl, and many baroun. Rychardys maystyr, Roberd of Leycester, In al Yngelond was non his betere; And alsoo Robert Tourneham: Gret Ynglys peple with hym cam. Al redy they founde there here flete, Chargyd with armure, drynk, and mete. They schyppyd armes, man and stede, And stoor here folk al with to fede. They schyppyd al be the see stronde, To wende into the Holy Londe. The wynd was bothe good and kene, And drof hem ovyr to Messene. Before the gates of the Gryffouns, Kyng Rychard pyghte hys pavylouns. The kyng of Fraunce there he founde, In pavylouns quarre and rounde; Eyther of hem kyste othir, And becomen sworen brothir, To wenden into the Holy Londe, To wreke Jhesu, I undyrstonde.    A tresoun thoughte the kyng of Fraunce, To doo Kyng Richard, withouten destaunce. To Kyng Tanker he sente a wryt,15 That turnyd hym sythen to lytyl wyt; That Kyng Richard, with strengthe of hand, Wolde hym dryve out of hys land. Tanker kyng of Poyl was, For this wryt he sayde, “Allas!” He sente anon a messanger To hys sone that hyghte Roger, That was kyng in Sesyle land. He scholde come unto hys hand; And also aftyr hys barouns, Erles and lordes of renouns, And whenne they were icome, ylkon, The kyng sayde to hem anon, And sayde hym hou the kyng of Fraunce, Warnyd hym of a dystaunse. Hou Kyng Richard was come fro ferre, With gret strengthe on hym to werre. Kyng Roger spak fyrst above, And smot pes with hys glove: “Mercy, my fadyr, at this tyme, Kyng Richard is a pylgryme, Croysyd into the Holy Lande; That wryt lyes, I undyrstande. I dar for Kyng Rychard swere For hym ne tydes yow nevere dere; But sendes to hym a messangere, That he come unto yow here; He wil come to yow ful fawe, And that he thynkes he wil beknawe.”16 The kyng was payyd of that counsayle, And sente aftyr hym, saunt fayle. At morwen he com to hym, iwis, Into the ryche cyté of Rys. He fond Tanker in hys halle, Among hys erlys and barouns alle. Eyther othir grette ful fayre, With mylde wurdes and debonayre. Thenne sayde Tankar to Kyng Richard: “Loo, Sere kyng, be Seynt Leonard, Me it is idon to wyt Of frendes be a fol good wryt, That thou art comen with gret powere, Me to bereve my landes here. Thou were fayrere to be a pylgrym For to sloo many a paynym, Thenne for to greve a Cristene kyng That nevere mysdede thee no thyng!” Kyng Richard wax al aschamyd, became And of hys wurdes sore agramyd, And sayde, “Tanker, thou art mysthought To have on me swylke a thought, And swylke a rage upon me bere, That I thee scholde with tresoun dere, And swylke a tresoun to me sopos. Upon my flesch I bere the cros! I wole dwelle but a day; Tomorwe I wole wende my way. And I praye thee, Syr Tanker Kynge, Procure me none evyll thynge; For many men weneth to greve other, And on his heed falleth the fother; For who so wayteth me despyte, Hymselfe shall nought passe quyte.” “Syr,” quod Tanker, “Be not wrothe for this. Lo, here the letter forsothe, iwys, That the kynge of Fraunce me sente That other daye in presente.” Kynge Rycharde sawe and understode The kynge of Fraunce wolde hym no gode. Kynge Rycharde and Kynge Tanker kyste, And were frendes with the beste That myght be in ony londe, Iloved be Jhesu Crystes sonde! Kynge Rycharde wente agayne well styll, And suffred the Frensshe kynges wyll. He undyde his tresore, And bought hym bestes to his store. He let bothe salte and slene Thre thousande of oxen and kene, Swyne and shepe, so many also No man coude tell tho. Whete and benys twenty thowsande Quarters he boughte als that I fynde; And of fysshe, foules and venyson, I ne can nought account in ryght reason. The kynge of Fraunce, without wene, Lay in the cyté of Messene, And Kynge Rycharde without the wall, Under the house of the Hospytall. The Englysshe men wente into the chepynge, And ofte hente harde knockynge. The Frensshe and the Gryffons downeryghtes Slewe there our Englyssche knyghtes. Kynge Rycharde herde of that dystaunce, And playned to the kynge of Fraunce, And he answered he helde no wardes, Of the Englysshe taylardes. “Chase thy Gryffons, yf thou myght, For of my men geteth thou no ryght.” Quod Kynge Rycharde: “Syth it is so, I wote well what I have to do. I shall me of them so awreke That all the worlde therof shall speke.”    Crystmasse is a tyme full honeste. Kynge Rycharde it honoured with grete feste. All his erles and barons Were set in theyr pavylyons, And served with grete plenté Of mete and drynke and eche deynté. Than came there a knyght in grete haste; Unneth he myght drawe his blaste. He fell on knees, and thus he sayd: “Mercy, Rycharde, for Mary mayde! With the Frensshe men and the Gryffownes, My brother lyeth slayne in the townes, And with hym lyeth slayne fyftene Of thy knyghtes, good and kene. This daye and yesterdaye, I tolde arowe That syxe and thyrty they had islowe! Faste lesseth your Englysshe hepe!17 Good Syr, take good kepe, Awreke us, syr, manly, Or we shall hastely Flee peryll, I understonde, And tourne agayne to Englonde.” Kynge Rycharde was wrothe and eger of mode, And began to stare as he were wode. The table with his fote he smote, That it wente on the erth fote-hote And swore he wolde be awreked in haste. He wolde not wende for Crystes faste. The hygh daye of Crystmasse They gan them arme, more and lasse. Before wente Kynge Rycharde, The erle of Salysbury afterwarde That was called by that daye Syr Wyllyam, the Longe Spaye. The erle of Leysestre, the erle of Herdforde, Full comly folowed they theyr lorde, Erles, barons, and squyers, Bowmen and arblasteres, With Kynge Rycharde they gan reke Of Frensshe and Gryffons to be awreke. The folke of that cyté aspyed rathe That Englysshemen wolde do them skathe. They shette hastely the gate With barres that they found therate, And swythe they ranne on the wall And shotte with bowe and spryngall And called our men, saunce fayle, “Go home, dogges, with your tayle; For all your boost and your orguyle, Men shall threste in your cuyle!”18 Thus they mysdyde and myssayde; All that daye kynge Rycharde they trayde. Our kynge that daye for no nede In baytayll myght nothynge spede. On nyght, Kynge Rycharde and his barons Wente to theyr pavylyouns. Who that slepte or who that woke That nyght Kynge Rycharde no rest toke. On the morowe, he ofsente his counseyllers Of the portes, the mayster maryners. “Lordynges,” he sayd, “ye ben with me: Your counseyll ought for to be pryvé. All we sholde us venge fonde With queyntyse and with strength of honde, Of Frensshe and of Gryffons, That have dyspysed our nacyons. I have a castell, I understonde, Is made of tembre of Englonde, With syxe stages full of tourelles Well flourysshed with cornelles; Therin I and many a knyght Ayenst the Frensshe shall take the fyght. That castell shall have a surnownne: It shall hyght the mate-gryffon.19 Maryners, arme your shyppes, And holde up your manshyppes. By the water-halfe ye them assayle, And we wyll by londe, saunce fayle. For joye come never to me Tyll I of them awreked be!” Therto men myght here crye, “Helpe God and Saynt Mary!” The maryners gan to hye Bothe with shyppe and with galye, With ore, sprete, and sayle also, Towarde them they gan go. The knyghtes framed the tre castyll Before the cyté upon an hyll. All this sawe the kynge of Fraunce, And sayde: “Have ye no doutaunce Of all these Englysshe cowardes, For they ne be but mosardes. But reyse up your mangenell, And caste to theyr tre castell, And shote to them with arblast, The tayled dogges for to agast.”    Now harken of Rycharde, our kynge, How he let bere in the dawnynge, Targes and hurdis his folke all Ryght before the cyté wall. His hoost he let at ones crye, Men myght it here in the skye: “Now let come the Frensshe mosardes, And gyve batayll to the taylardes!” The Frensshe men them armed all, And ranne in hast upon the wall; And began the Englysshe for to assayle. There began a stronge batayle: The Englysshe shotte with arblast and bowe, Frensshe and Gryffons felde and slowe. The galeys came unto the cyté, And had nygh wonne entré, They hade so myned under the wall, That many Gryffons gan downe fall. With hoked arowes, and eke quarelles, Felde them out of the tourelles, And brake bothe legges and armes, And eke theyr neckes: it was none harmes! The Frensshe men came to the stoure And caste wylde fyre out of the toure; Wherwith, I wote, forsothe, iwys, They brente and slewe many Englysshe, And the Englysshe men defended them wele With good swerdes of browne stele And slewe of them so grete chepes, That there laye moche folke on hepes; And at the londe gate, Kyng Rycharde Helde his assawte lyke harde. And so manly he toke one, He lefte of his men never one. He loked besyde and sawe hove A knyght that tolde hym with a glove. Kynge Rycharde come and he hym tolde Tales in Englysshe, stoute and bolde. “A lorde,” he sayd, “I aspye now right A thynge that maketh myn herte lyght. Here,” he sayd, “is a gate one, That hath warde ryght none. The folke is gone to the water toure, For to do them theyr socoure, And there we may, without dente, Entre in now, verament.” Blythe therof was kynge Rycharde, Stoutly he wente thederwarde. Many a knyght, doughty of dede, After hym prycked upon theyr stede. Kynge Rycharde entred without drede; Hym folowed full grete felawrede. His baner upon the wall he pulte; Many a Gryffon it byhulte. As greyhoundes stryken out of lese, Kyng Rycharde threste amonge the prese. Seven chaynes with his good swerde, Our kynge forcarfe amydwarde That were drawen for grete doute, Within the gates and without. Porcules and gates up he wan, And lette come in every man. Men myghte se by strete and lane, Frensshe and Gryffons tholed schame; And some to hous ran in haste, Dores and wyndowes barred faste; Oure Englissh with grete levours Breke hem up with grete vigours. All that they founde ayenst them stonde Passed thorugh dethes honde. They brake cofers and toke tresoure: Golde and sylver and covertoure, Jewelles, stones, and spycery, All that they founde in tresoury. There was none of Englysshe blode That he ne had as moche gode As they wolde drawe or bere To shyppe or to pavylyons, I swere; And ever cryed Kynge Rycharde: “Slee downe every Frensshe cowarde And ken them in bataylles That ye have no tayles!”    The kynge of Fraunce came pryckynge Ayenst Rycharde, our kynge, And fell on knees downe of his hors And bad mercy, for Goddes corps, For the crowne and for the love Of Jhesu Cryste, kynge above, And for the vyage and for the crose, He should be in gree, and take lose; And he wolde one hande take, They sholde amende all the wrake They that had hym or his Ony thynge done amys.    Kynge Rycharde had grete pyté Of the kynge of Fraunce that sat on knee, And lyght downe, so sayth the boke, And in his armes up hym toke And said it sholde be peas styll, And yelde the towne all to hys wyll And bad hym nought greve hym tho, Though he venged hym of his fo That had his good knyghtes quelde, And eke on hym despyte itelde. The kynge of Fraunce gan to preche And bad Rycharde be his soules leche, And the tresoure yelde agayne than That he had take of every man, And elles he ne myght, in Goddes paye, To Jherusalem take the waye. Kynge Rycharde sayde, “With alle thy tresoure They myght nought amende the dyshonoure And that they have me done amys; And Syr, also thou dyde amys Whan thou sentest to Tanker, the kynge, To appayre me with thy lesynge. We have to Jherusalem the waye sworne. Who breketh our pylgrymage, he is forlorne, Or he that maketh ony medlaye Betwene us two in this way.” Whan abbated was that dystaunce, There came two justyces of Fraunce Upon two stedes ryde, And kynge Rycharde they gan chyde. That one was hyght Margaryte, That other Syr Hewe Impetyte. Swythe sore they hym trayde, Cleped hym taylarde and hym myssayde. Kynge Rycharde helde a tronchon tewe, And to them two he hym drewe. Margaryte he gave a dente than Above the eye upon the pan. The skull brake with that dente; The ryght eye flewe out quytemente, And he fell downe deed in haste. Hewe of Impetyte was agaste, And prycked away without fayle, And Rycharde was soone at his tayle. And gave hym a stroke on the molde That deed he thought be he sholde. Ternes and quernes he gave hym there And sayd, “Syr, thus thou shalte lere To myssaye thy overhedlynge. Go playne now to your Frensshe kynge!” An archebysshop came full soone; He fell on knees and badde a bone. Of Kynge Richarde he asked mercy That he wolde ther sesy, And there no more harme do, For Goddes love, the people to. Kynge Rycharde graunted hym then, And drewe to pavylyon all his men. To this daye men may here speke How the Englysshe were there awreke. All the whyle that they were there, They myght well bye theyr chafere; There was none so hardy a man That one evyll worde spake gan.    Kynge Rycharde in peas and reste, Fro Crystmasse, the hygh feste, Dwelléd there tyll after the Lente And than on his waye he wente. In Marche moneth the kynge of Fraunce Wente to shyppe without dystaunce. Whan he was gone, soone afterwarde Came the doughty Kynge Rycharde. Forth towarde Acrys wende he wolde With moche store of sylver and golde. Foure shyppes were charged, I fande, Towarde Cyprys, all saylande,    Charged with tresour every dell, And soone a sorowfull caas there fell. A grete tempest arose sodaynly That lasted fyve dayes, sykerly. It brake theyr maste and theyr ore And theyr takell, less and more, Anker, bowe spret and rother, Ropes, cordes, one and other; And were in poynt to synke adowne As they came ayenst the Lymosowne. The thre shyppes, ryght anone, All tobrake ayenst the stone. All to peces they totare; Unnethe the folke saved ware. The ferde schippe behynde duellede: Unnethes the maryners it helde; And that schippe lefte righte in the depe, That the folkes one the lande myghte wepe; For the Gryffons, with sharpe wordes, Some with axes and some with swerdes, Grete slaughter of our Englysshe maked, And spoyled the quycke all naked. Syxtene hondred they brought of lyve, And into pryson, hondredes fyve, And also naked syxty score, As they were of theyr moders bore. Of the shyppes brekynge they were blythe. The Justyces of Cyprys ran full swythe And drewe up cofers manyfolde Full of sylver and of golde, Dysshes, cuppes, broches, and rynges, Cuppes of golde, and ryche thynges. No man by south ne by north, Ne coulde account what it was worth; And all was borne, that tresour, Wheder that wolde the emperour.    The thyrde daye afterwarde, The wynde came dryvynge Kynge Rycharde With all his grete navyes, And his saylynge galyes, To a shyppe that stode in depe. The gentylmen therin dyde wepe, And whan they sawe Rycharde, the kynge, Theyr wepynge tourned all to laughynge. They welcomed hym with worshyppes, And tolde hym the brekynge of theyr shyppes, And the robbery of his tresoure, And all that other dyshonoure. Than waxed Kynge Rycharde full wrothe, And he swore a full grete othe By Jhesu Cryste, our savyoure: It sholde abye the emperoure. He cleped Syr Steven and Wyllyam, And also Roberte of Turnam, Thre gentyll barons of Englonde, Wyse of speche, doughty of honde: “Now go and saye to the emperoure That he yelde agayne my tresoure, Or I swere by Saynt Denys, I wyll have thre syth double of his; And yelde my men out of pryson, And for the deed paye raunson, Or hastely I hym warne, I wyll worke hym a harme Bothe with spere and with launce. Anone I shall take vengaunce!”    The messengers anone forth wente, To do theyr lordes commaundement, And hendly sayd theyr message. The emperoure began to rage, He grunte his tethe and faste blewe, A knyfe after Syr Roberte he threwe. He blente awaye with a lepe, And it flewe in a dore a span depe! And syth he cryed, as uncourteys: “Out, taylardes, of my paleys! Now go, and saye your tayled kynge That I owe hym no thynge! I am full gladde of his lore, I wyll hym yelde none other answore, And he shall fynde me to morowe, At the haven to do hym sorowe, And werke hym as moche wrake As his men that I have take.”    The messengers wente out full swythe, Of theyr ascapynge they were blythe. The emperours stewarde, with honoure, Sayde thus unto the emperoure: “Syr,” he sayd, “thou hast unryght! Thou haddest almoost slayne a knyght That is messenger unto a kynge, The best under the sonne shynynge. Thou hast thy selfe tresoure enoghe. Yelde hym his tresour or thou getis grete woghe; For he is crossed and pylgrym, And all his men that ben with hym. Lette hym do his pylgrymage, And kepe thy selfe frome domage.” The eyen twynkled of the emperoure And smyled as an evyll traytoure. His knyfe he drewe out of his shethe Therwith to do the stewarde scathe, And called hym, without fayle, And seid he wolde tellene hym a consaile. The stewarde on knees hym set a downe With the emperour for to rowne, And the emperour of evyll truste Carved of his nose by the gruste And sayd, “Traytour, thefe, stewarde, Go playne to Englysshe taylarde! And yf he come on my londe, I shall hym do such a shonde — Hym and all his men quycke slayne — But he in haste tourne agayne!”    The stewarde his nose hente — Iwys, his vysage was ishente — Quyckely out of the castell ran: Leve he ne toke of no man! The messengers mercy he cryed, For Maryes love in that tyde, They sholde tell to theyr lorde Of the dyshonour, ende and worde: “And haste you agayne to londe, And I shall sese into your honde The keyes of every toure That oweth that fals emperoure; And I shall brynge hym this nyght The emperours doughter bryght And also an hondred knyghtes, Stoute in batayll, stronge in fyghtes, Ayenst that fals emperoure That hath done us this dyshonoure.”    The messengers them hyed harde Tyll they came to Kynge Rycharde. They founde kynge Richarde playe At the chesse in his galaye. The erle of Rychemonde with hym played, And Rycharde wan all that he layed. The messengers tolde all the dyshonour That them dyde the emperour; And the despyte he dyde his stewarde In despyte of kynge Rycharde And the stewarde presentynge His byhest and his helpynge. Than answered Kynge Rycharde, In dede lyon, in thought, lybarde: “Of your sawes, I am blythe! Anone set us to londe swythe!”    A grete crye arose fote-hote: Out was shotte many a bote. The bowe men and eke the arblasters Armed them at all aventers And shotte quarelles, and eke flone As thycke as the hayle stone. The folke of the countré gan renne And were fayne to voyde and flenne. The barons and good knyghtes After came anone ryghtes With theyr lorde, Kynge Rycharde, That never was founde no cowarde.    Kynge Rycharde, I understonde, Or he wente out of Englonde, Let hym make an axe for the nones,20 To breke therwith the Sarasyns bones. The heed was wrought ryght wele: Therin was twenty pounde of stele; And whan he came into Cyprys londe, The axe he toke in his honde. All that he hytte he all tofrapped. The Gryffons a waye faste rapped; Nevertheles, many one he cleved, And theyr unthonkes therby leved! And the pryson whan he came to With his axe he smote ryght tho Dores, berres, and iren chaynes, And delyvered his men out of paynes. He let them all delyver cloth; For theyr despyte he was wroth And swore by Jhesu, our savyoure, He sholde abye, that fals emperoure. All the bourgeyses of the towne, Kynge Rycharde let slee without raunsowne. Theyr tresour and theyr jewells He sesyde als his owne catells.    Tydynges came to the emperour, Kynge Rycharde was in Lymasour And had his burgeyses to deth ido. No wonder though hym were wo! He sente anone, without fayle, After all his counsayle, That they came to hym on hye To wreke hym of his enemye. His hoost was come by mydnyght, And redy on the morowe for to fyght.    Herken now of the stewarde! He came at nyght to Kynge Rycharde, And the emperours doughter hym with. She grette Kynge Rycharde in pease and gryth. He fell on knees and gan to wepe And sayd, “Kynge Rycharde, God thee kepe!” The stewarde sayd, “I am shente for thee! Gentyll lorde, awreke thou me! The emperours doughter bryght, I thee betake, gentyll knyght, The keyes also I betake thee here Of every castell in his powere. An hondred knyghtes I you behyght, Lo them here, redy in all ryght. That shall you lede and socoure Ayenst that fals emperoure! Thou shalte be bothe lorde and syre, Or to morowe of his empyre, And swete syr, without fayle, Yet thee behoveth my counsayle. I shall thee lede by a coost Pryvely upon his hoost. In his pavylyon ye shall hym take; Than thynke upon thee moche wrake That he hath done thee or this! Though ye hym slee, no force it is!” Moche thanked Kynge Rycharde Of the counseyll the stewarde, And swore by God, our savyoure, His nose sholde be bought well soure.    Ten hondred stedes, good and sure, Kynge Rycharde let araye in trappure. On everyche lepte an Englysshe knyght, Stowte in armes and stronge in fighte, And as the stewarde, applyght, Ladde them by the mone lyght So nygh the emperours pavylyoune, Of the trompis he herde the sowne — It was before the dawynynge — The stewarde sayd to Rycharde, the kynge: “Lette se, Rycharde, assayle yerne The pavylyon with the golden herne. Therin lyeth the emperour. Awreke thou this dyshonour!” Than was Rycharde as fresshe to fyght As ever was foule to the flyght. He prycked forth upon his stede, Hym folowed full grete ferrede. His axe he helde in honde idrawe; Many Gryffons he hath islawe. The waytes of that hoost that dyde aspye And full loude began they for to crye: “As armes lordynges, alle and some: We bene betrayed and inome! In an evyll tyme our emperour Robbed Kynge Rycharde of his tresour, For he is here amonge us And sleeth downe-ryght, by Jhesus!”    The Englysshe knyghtes, for the nones, All tohewed the Gryffons bodyes and bones. They smote the cordes and felled downe Of many a ryche pavylyowne; And ever cryed squyer and knyght: “Smyte! Lay on! Slee downe-ryght! Yelde the tresour ayenwarde That ye toke from Kynge Rycharde! Ye ben worthy to have suche mede, With many woundes to lye and blede!” In the emperours pavylyon, Kynge Rycharde Alyght, so dyde the stewarde; And the emperour was fledde awaye Hymselfe alone, or it was daye: Flowen was that fals coward. Narowe hym sought Kynge Rycharde. He fande his clothis and his tresoure, Bot he was fled, that vile traytoure. Longe or the daye began to dawe, Twenty thousande Gryffons were islawe. Of sylke, sendell, and syclaton21 Was the emperours pavylyon: In the worlde never non syche, Ne by moche thynge so ryche. Kynge Rycharde wan the grete worshyp, And bad they sholde be lad to shyp: Such at Acrys was there none founde, Pavylyons of so moche mounde. Cuppes of golde, grete and smale, He wan there without tale. Many cofers small and grete He founde there full ibete. Two stedes founde the Kynge Rycharde, That one hyght Favell and that other Lyarde. In the worlde was not theyr pere, Dromedary nor destrere, Camel; Stede rabyte, ne camayle, That ran so swyfte, without fayle. For a thousande pounde itolde Sholde not that one be solde. All that his men before had lore, Seven double they had therfore.    Tydynges to the emperour was come That his doughter was inome, And how that his hygh stewarde Her had delyvered to Kynge Rycharde. By that he wyst well, iwys. That he had done amys. Two messengers he clyped anone, And bad them to Kynge Rycharde gone, “And saye your emperour and your kynge, That I hym sende Goddes gretynge. Homage by yere I wyll hym gyve and yelde And all my londe I wyll of hym helde, So that he wyll, for charyté, In peas hereafter let me be.”    The messengers anone forth wente And sayd theyr lordes commaundemente. Kynge Rycharde answered therto: “I graunte well that it be so. Goth and seithe your emperour That he dyde grete dyshonour Whan he robbed pylgrymes That were goynge to the paynymes. Let hym yelde me my tresour, every dele, Yf he wyll be my specyele, And also saye your emperour That he amende that dyshonour That he dyde to his stewarde In despyte of Kynge Rycharde; And that he come erly tomorowe And crye me mercy with sorowe, Homage by yere me to bere, And elles, by my crowne I swere, He shall not have a fote of londe Never more out of my honde.”    The messengers by one accorde Tolde this the emperour, theyr lorde. Than the emperour was full wo That he this dyde sholde do. To Kynge Rycharde he came on the morowe; In his herte he had moche sorowe. He fell on knees, so sayth the boke, Kynge Rycharde by bothe the fete he toke And cryed mercy with good entent, And he forgave hym his maltalent. Fewté he dyde hym, and homage, Before all his baronage. That daye they were at one accorde, And in same dyde ete at one borde; In grete solace and moche playe, Togyder they were all that daye, And whan it drew towarde the eve, The emperour toke his leve And wente towarde his hostell: In herte hym was nothynge well. He helde hymslelfe a foule cowarde That he dyde homage to Kynge Rycharde, And thought how he hym awreke myght. Forth he rode anone ryght To a cyté that hyght Bonevent. He came by daye, verament. There he founde many a grete syre, The rychest men of his empyre. To them playned the emperour Of the shame and of the dyshonour That hym dyde Kynge Rycharde Thorugh the helpe of his stewarde. Up there stode a noble barowne, Ryche of castell and of towne, The stewardes eme he was, That the emperour had shente his fas. “Syr,” he sayd, “thou arte mystaught; Thou arte all aboute naught. Without encheson and jugement Thy good stewarde thou haste ishent That sholde, as he well couthe, Us have holpe and saved nouthe! Thorugh thy wyll malycyous, Ryght so thou woldest serve us; And I saye the wordes bolde: With suche a lorde kepe I not holde To fyght ayenst Rycharde, the kynge, The best under the sonne shynynge. Ne none of all my baronage, Ne shall thee never do homage.”    All the other sayd at one worde That Rycharde was theyr kynde lorde, And the emperour, for his vylanye, Was well worthy for to dy. The emperour sawe and understode His barons wolde hym no gode: To another towne he wente and helde hym thare. In his herte he had moche care. That same tyme the hygh stewarde Counseylled with Kynge Rycharde. He sayd that hym forthought sore That the emperour was so forlore. They sought hym in all wyse, And founde hym in the cyté of Pyse. And certaynly, Kynge Rycharde Wolde not loke to hym warde; For he had broken his treuth. Of hym had he no reuth, But let a sergeaunt hym bynde His hondes soone hym behynde, And caste hym into a galey, And ledde hym into Surrey, And swore by Hym that made mone and sterre, Ayenst the Sarasynes he sholde lerne to werre.    Whan all this warre abated was, Kynge Rycharde set that londe in peas. The Erle of Leycestre, full truly, Thorugh counseyll of his barony, He made hym stewarde of that londe, To kepe his realme to his honde; Grete feest they helde afterwarde. His shyppes let dyght Kynge Rycharde: Forth towarde Acrys he wolde With moche store of sylver and golde, With two hondred shyppes, I fynde, Saylynge forwarde with the wynde, And afterwarde fyfty galyes For to warde his navyes. And as the doughty Kynge Rycharde Came saylynge to Acrys warde And had sayled with wynde at wyll, Ten dayes fayre and styll, The unleventhe day thay saylyd in tempest. That nyght ne day hadde they no rest. And as they were in gret aventure, They sawgh a drowmound out of mesure. The drowmound was so hevy fraughte That unethe myghte it sayle aught. It was toward the Sarezynys Chargyd with corn and with wynys, With wylde fyre and other vytayle.    Kyng Richard saygh the drowmound, saun faile; He callyd in haste Aleyn Trenchemer, And bad hym to wende hem neer, And aske whens that they ware And what they hadden in chaffare. Aleyn quyk and men inowe To that drowmound begunne to rowe, And askyd with whom that they ware, And what they hadden in chaffare. Anon stood up here latymer And answeryd Aleyn Trenchemer: “With the kyng of Fraunce, saun faile; Fro Poyl we brynge this vytaile. A monith we haven leyen in the see, Toward Acres wolde wee.” “Wynde up sayl,” quod Aleyn swythe, “And sayle we forth with wyndes lythe!” “Nay! be Seynt Thomas of Ynde, Us moste nedes come behynde! For we ben so hevy fraught, Unethis may we saylen aught.” Thenne sayde Alayn sone anon: “I here of yow speke but on. Let stande up alle in fere, That we now myghte moo here And knowe youre tungge aftyr than; For we wole nought leve oo man.” “Sertes,” quod the latymere, “With no moo men spekys thou here. They were this nyght in tempeste; They lyggen alle and take here reste.” “Sertes,” sayde thenne goode Aleyn, “To Kyng Rychard I wole seyn, That ye aren alle Sarezynes, Chargyed with cornes and with wynes!” The Sarezynes sterten up al preste, And sayden, “Felawe, goo doo thy beste! For Kyng Richard and hys galyes, We wolde nought geve twoo flyes!”    Tho Trenchemer gan rowen hard, Tyl he come to Kyng Richard, And swor to hym be Seynt Jhon, That they were Sarezynes everylkon. Thenne sayde oure kyng of renoun That hyghte Richard Coer de Lyoun: “Of youre sawes, I am blythe; Lat see arme you now swythe! Stere thou my galye, Trenchemer, I wole asaye that pawtener. With myn ax I schal hem frape; Ther schal no Sarezyn me ascape!” Als tyte hys ax was to hym brought; Hys othir armure forgat he nought. To hym comen maryners inowe. Kyng Richard bad hem faste rowe: “Rowes on faste! Who that is feynt, In evel water moot he be dreynt!” They roweden harde and sunggen thertoo With “hevelow” and “rummeloo.”    The galeye wente alsoo fast, As quarel dos of the arweblast; And as the drowmund come with the wynde, A large quarter out behynde The galey rente with the bronde Into the see, I undyrstonde. Thenne were the Sarezynys armyd wel Bothe in yryn and in steel; And stood on borde and foughten hard Agayn the doughty Kyng Richard; And Kyng Richard and his knyghtes Slowen the Sarezynes doun ryghtes, And as they gunne to wyrke hem woo Evere there stood up moo and moo, And rappyd hem on, for the nones, Sterne strokes with harde stones Out of the topcastel an hygh, That Richard was nevere his deth so nygh.    Thenne comen sevene galyes behynde To that drowmound quyk saylynde, And stood on borde, baroun and knyght, To helpe Kyng Richard for to fyght. A strong batayle there began, Betwene the hethene men and tham, With swerdes, speres, dartes kene, Arwes and quarelles fleygh between Also thykke, withouten stynt, As hayl aftyr thondyr dynt. And in the bykyr that was so hard, Into the drowmound come Kyng Richard. Whenne he was comen in on haste, He dressyd hys bak unto the maste. With his ax that he ovyrraughte, Hastely hys deth he caughte. Some he hytte on the bacyn That he clef hym to the chyn. And some to the gyrdyl-stede, And some unto the schyppes brede. Some in the hals so hytte hee That hed and helme fleygh into the see. For non armour withstood hys ax, No more than a knyf dos in the wax. The Sarezynes, as I yow telle, Sayden he was a devyl of helle; And ovyr the bord lopen thay And drownyd hem in the see that day. Syxtene hundryd be aqueled, Save thrytty Sarezynes the kyng leet held, That they scholden bere wytnes Of this batayle at Acres. The kyng fond in the drowmound, saun fayle, Mekyl stor and gret vytayle, Many barel ful of fyr Gregeys, And many a thousand bowe Turkeys. Hokyd arewes and quarelles. They fond there ful manye barelles Of whete and wyn gret plenté, Gold and sylver, and ylke deynté. Of tresour, he hadde nought half the mounde That in the drowmounde was ifound; For it drownyd in the flood, Ar half unchargyd were that good. Avaunsyd was al Crystyanté; For hadde the drowmound ipassed the see, And comen to Acres fro Kyng Richard, An hondryd wyntyr aftyrward, For alle Crystene men undyr sunne, Hadde nought Acres ben iwunne! Thus Kyng Richard wan the drowmound, Thorwgh Goddes help and Seynt Edmound.   Kyng Richard aftyr anon ryght Toward Acres gan hym dyght; And as he saylyd toward Surrye, He was warnyd of a spye, Hou the folk of the hethene lawe A gret cheyne hadden idrawe Ovyr the havene of Acres fers, And was festnyd to twoo pelers That no schyp ne scholde in wynne: Ne they nought out that were withinne. Therfore, sevene yer and more, Alle Crystene kynges leyen thore, And with gret hongyr suffryd payne For lettyng of that ylke chayne. Kyng Richard herde that tydynge, For joye his herte began to sprynge. And swor and sayde in hys thought, That ylke chayne scholde helpe hem nought. A swythe strong galey he took And Trenchemer, so says the book, Steryd the galey ryght fol evene Ryght in the myddes of the havene. Were the maryners saughte or wrothe, He made hem saylle and rowe bothe. The galey yede as swyfte, As ony foule by the lyfte, And Kyng Richard that was so good, With hys ax in foreschyp stood; And whan he came to the chayne, With his axe he smote it atwayne, That alle the barouns, verrayment, Sayden it was a noble dent, And for joye of this dede, The cuppes faste abouten yede, With good wyn, pyement and clarré, And sayllyd toward Acres cyté. Kyng Richard out of hys galye Caste wylde fyre into the skye, And fyr Gregeys into the see, As al on fyre weren hee. Trumpes yeden in hys galeye, Men myghten it here into the skye, Taboures and hornes Sarezyneys. The see brente al of fyr Gregeys.    Gunnes he hadde on wondyr wyse,22 Magneles of gret queyntyse, Arweblast, bowe, and with gynne, The Holy Lond for to wynne. Ovyr al othere wyttyrly, A melle he made of gret maystry,23 In myddes a schyp for to stande Swylke on sawgh nevere man in lande. Foure sayles were thertoo, Yelew and grene, rede and bloo, With canevas layd wel al aboute, Ful schyr withinne and eke withoute, Al within ful of feer Of torches maad with wex ful cleer; Ovyrtwart and endelang, With strenges of wyr the stones hang, Stones that deden nevere note: Grounde they nevere whete no grote, But rubbyd als they were wood. Out of the eye ran red blood Before the trowgh ther stood on, Al in blood he was begon, And hornes grete upon hys hede: Sarezynes therof hadden grete drede. For it was within the nyght They were agrysed of that syght, For the rubbyyng of the stones, They wende it hadde ben mennes bones. And sayd he was the devyll of hell, That was come them to quell. A lytyl before the lyght of day, Clenly they were don away.    Kyng Rychard aftyr that mervayle, Wente to the lond, saun fayle. The kyng of Fraunce agayn hym come, And in hys armes he hym nome, And kyste hym with gret honour, And so dede many an emperour. Alle the kynges of Crystyanté That there hadden longe tyme ibee, And leyn there sevene yer in dolour, Resseyvyd Kyng Richard with honour.    The archebysschop of Pyse Dede Kyng Richard his servyse, And ledden hym, as ye may see, Into a pavyloun in pryvyté, And tolde hym a doolful tale Of schrewede aventures, manye and fale: “Kynge Richard,” he sayde, “now here! This sege has lastyd sevene yere. It may nought fro thee be holde, Mekyl sorwe have we tholde! For we ne hadde no castel That us of ony warde fel, But a wyde dyke and a depe We made withinne us for to kepe With barbycanes, for the nones, Heyghe wrought of harde stones. And whenne that oure dyke was made, Saladyn the Sawdon was glade, And come on us with gret route, And besette us al aboute, And with hym Markes Manferaunt, That leves on Mahoun and Termagaunt.24 He was a Crystene kyng sumwhyle; He dos us schame and moche gyle deceit Thenne the Sawdon and al hys hoost. Fadyr and Sone and Holy Gost, Graunte hym grace of worldis schame, Markys Feraunt be hys name! Oure ferst bataylle, sykyrly, Was ful strong and ful deedly, Weel foughten oure Crystene knyghtes, And slowen the Sarezynes doun ryghtes. Oure Crystene hadden the maystry; The Sarezynes flowen with woo and cry. We slowe of hem manye thoo, And they of us manye alsoo; And I schal telle thorwgh what cas It fyl to many a man, allas! As we dede Sarezynys to dede, Befel that a noble stede Outrayyd fro a paynym. Oure Crystene men faste folewyd hym. The Sarezynes seyghen that they come, And fleygh asyde, alle and some. And come on us with gret fyght, And slowgh many a Crystene doun right, That there we loste ar we it wyste, The beste bodyes undyr Cryste. The Erl of Ferrers of Yngeland, Ther was no doughtyere man of hand; And the Emperour of Alemayne, And Janyn, the Eerl of Playn Spayne. Onlevene thousand of oure meyné There were slayn withouten pyté!    Therofe was the Sawdon glade, On morwen a newe sawt he made. He leet taken alle the cors Of the men and of the hors, And caste into the watyr of oure welle Us to poysoun and to quelle; Dede he nevere a wers dede To Crystene men for no nede. Thorwgh that poysoun and that brethe, Fourty thousand toke theyr dethe.    Sone aftyr newe yer, is nought to hyde, The thrydde caas us gan betyde. A schyp come saylande in the see Chargyd with whete gret plenté, With wylde fyr and armes bryght, To helpe the Sarezynes for to fyght. The Crystene token to red, saun fayle, They wolde the schyp for to assayle, And so they dede to oure damage! The wynd blew with gret rage; The Sarezynes drowgh up here sayl, And ovyrsayleyd oure folk, saun fayl, That there were lost syxty score Of the beste bodyes that weren bore! This was the begynnyng of oure care That we have had this sevene yare, And yit, sere kyng, thou schalt here more That has grevyd us ful sore.    On Seynt Jamys even, verrayment, The Sarezynes out of Acres went, Weel a myle us besyde, And pyght up pavylouns round and wyde, And sojournyd there a long whyle, And alle it was us to begyle. Oure Crystene men that were wyght, Erl, baroun, squyer, and knyght, Seyghen the Sarezynes have ryhchesse, And we of alle good dystresse, And thoughte to wynne to oure pray Of that tresore and that noblay. Fyfty thousynd hem armyd weel, Bothe in yren and in steel, And wenten forth to batayllyng. The Sarezynes sawgh here comyng, And flowen asyde swythe faste, And oure men comen aftyr in haste, And gunnen to ryde swythe gret raundoun Tyl they come to here pavyloun. They founde therinne no ferede: They wende they hadde ben flowen for drede. They founden there whyt bred and wynes, Gold, sylvyr and bawdekynes: Vessel of sylvyr, coupes of golde, More thenne they take scholde. Some stood and some sat doun, And eet and drank gret foysoun; And aftyr mete the pavylouns newe, With there swerdes doun thay hewe, And chargyd hors with vytayle, As nyse men scholde, saun fayle! Gold and sylvyr in males they pytte, And with here gerdeles they hem knytte. Whenne that ylke man hadde his charge, Home they wolden, withouten targe. The Sarezynes seygh wel here wendyng And comen aftyr faste flyngyng: At schorte wurdes, a gret route, And besette oure hoost aboute. There here males doun they caste, Agayn the Sarezynes they foughten faste; And there were lost thousandes fyftene, Noble men, hardy and kene. This caas grevyd us so sore That we wende have ben forlore; And God Almyghty, hevene kyng, Sente us sone socouryng. The doughty eerl of Champayne, And goode knyghtes of Bretayne, And Randulf, the Glamvyles. And Jhon the Neel and hys brother Myles, And Bawdewyne, a clerk ful mery, The Erchebysschop of Cauntyrbery, And with hym come hys nevewe, A baroun of gret vertewe, Huberd Gawter of Yngelande, Agayn the Sarezynes for to stande; And manye knyghtes of Hongry, And mekyl othir chevalry. Thenne heeld we strong bataylle, But an hard caas us fel, saun faylle.    At Myghhylmasse, it moste be told, The wedyr gan to wexe cold. Than fel bothe rayn and hayl And snowgh fyve foote deep, saun fayle. Thondyr, lyghtnyng, wedyr towgh, For hungyr oure folk it slowgh;25 For hungyr we loste, and colde wyndes, Of our folk sixty thousyndes! Thenne oure goode hors we slowe, Dede sethe and eete the guttys towe. The flesch was delyd with deynté: Therofe had no man plenté. Al to peses we carf the hede, And on the coles we gan it brede, In watyr we boylyd the blood: That us thoughte was mete ful good! A quarter of whete men us solde For syxty pound of floryns tolde! For fourty pound men solde an oxe, Though it were byt lytyl woxe. A swyn for an hundryd floryn, A goos for half mark of gold fyn, And for an hen, to syke thynges, Men gaf of penyes, fyftene schillinges, For an hen ay, penyes unlevene, And for a pere, syxe or sevene, And for an appyl, penyes sexe; And thus began oure folk unwexe, And dyede for hungyr and for woo.    The ryche men token to rede thoo A ryche dole for to dyghte To barouns and to pore knyghte. Twelve penyes men gaf to everyche, And syxe to othere that were nought ryche, And foure to the smale wyghtes; Thus, the ryche here dole dyghtes. Therwith the more and lasse, Boughte hem flesch of hors and asse. They myghte have non othir thyng, For whyt tourneys, ne for sterlyng. I have thee told, sere kyng, here Of oure men al the lere, And the damage of Acres hoost. But blessyd be the Holy Goost, And Marye that bar Jhesus, That thou art comen among us! Thorwgh thyn help we hopen snelle The Sarezynes hoost doun to felle!”    Kyng Richard wepte with hys eyen bothe, And thus he sayde to hym, forsothe: “Sere bysschop, bydde thou for us, That myght me sende swete Jhesus, Hys foos alle to destroye, That they no more us anoye!” Kyng Richard took leve and leep on stede, And pryckyd out of that felawred. He rod aboute the clos dyke Toward Acres, sykyrlyke, Tyl he come to the hospytale Of Seynt John, as I fynde in tale. There leet he pyghte hys pavyloun, And arerede hys mate-gryffoun, That was a tree castell ful fyne To assaute with many Sarezyn, That he myghte into Acres seen.    He hadde thryttene shyppes full of been. Whenne the castel was framyd wel. They sette therinne a magnel, And commandyd hys men belyve, To brynge up many a bee-hyve, And beet on tabours and trumpes to blowe, And made a sawt al in a throwe.26 Kyng Richard into Acres cyté Leet keste the hyves gret plenté. It was hoot in the someres tyde. The bees bursten out on every side That were anoyyd and ful of grame; They dede the Sarezynes ful gret schame, For they hem stungge in the vysage, That alle they gunne for to rage, And hydde hem in a deep selere, That non of hem durste come nere; And sayden kyng Richard was ful fel, Whenne hys flyes byten so wel!   &nsbp;Anothir gyn Kyng Richard upsette, That was callyd Robynette, A strong gyn for the nones, And caste into Acres harde stones. Kyng Richard, the conquerour, Callyd in haste hys mynour, And bad hym myne up to the tour That is callyd Maudyt Colour. And swoor hys oth be Seynt Symoun, But yif it were ibrought a doun unless Be noon the uttermeste wal, He scholde hym hewe to peses smal. The mynours gunne to myne faste; The gynours ben and stones cast. The Sarezynes hem armyd alle, And runne anon unto the walle. In whyte schetys they gunne hem wryen, For the bytyng of hys flyen, And sayde, “This man dos us strong pyne, Whenne he wole bothe throwe and myne. We sawe nevere kyng so begynne: It is gret doute he schal us wynne!27 Kyng Richard stood in his mate-griffoun, And sawgh here dedes in the toun: And whedyrwardes the Sarazenes flowen, Archers seygh and to hem drowen, And arweblasters with quarell smerte, Thorwgh legges and armes, hed and herte. The Frenssche men with gret noblay, Halp to myne that ylke day That outemeste wal was doun caste, And many a Sarezyn slayn in haste. That day Kyng Richard spedde so thor That he was holden a conqueror: For betere he spedde that day or noon Then the othre in the sevene yer hadde don.    The Sarezynys myghten nought doure: They flowen into the heyghe toure, And lyghten torches abouten the wal, Men myghte it sen ovyr al. The torchys caste a gret lyght That betokenyd a newe fyght That was comen fro Yngelonde, Where thorwgh they myghte nought withstonde,28 But yf Saladyn, the Sawdan, Come to helpe with many a man. Saladyn was ten myle thenne, And seygh the torches lyghtly brenne. They gaderede here folk togedere, As thykke as rayn falles in wedere. They assemblyd on a playn Besyde Acres, on a mountayn. Syxty thousand footmen, I fynde, Knehches of hay he made hem bynde, To goo before hastelyke To fylle ful the Crystene dyke. Soo they have taken here red, To doo the Crystene men to ded. Aftyr comen barouns and knyghtes, An hundryd thousand stronge in fyghtes. Be ordre they comen in here maners,29 Of red sendel were here baners, With thre gryffouns depayntyd weel, And of asure a fayr bendel. Sone theraftyr come rydande as fele Of bolde barouns by gentyl stele. Here gonfanouns and here penseles, Were weel wrought of grene sendeles, And on everylkon, a dragoun As he faught with a lyoun. The fyrste were rede, and thyse were grene. Thenne come the thrydde bataylle bedene: Fyve and syxty thousand knyghtes, In ynde armyd to all ryghtes.30 Aftyr come, whyte as the snow, Fyfty thousand in a rowe. Ther among was Sere Saladyn, And hys nevewe, Myrayn-Momelyn. Here baner whyt, withouten fable, With thre Sarezynes hedes of sable That were schapen noble and large; Of balayn, bothe scheeld and targe. No man cowde telle the route: They besette the Crystene al aboute.    The footmen kast in knehches of hay To make the horsmen in redy way, And fylde the dyke ful upryghte, That al the hoost entre in myghte. The Sarezynys hadden entry negh, But God Almyghty thertoo segh. The cry aros into the Crystene hoost, “Susé seynours, has armes tost!31 But we have the betere socour, We beth forlore be Seynt Savour!” Thoo myghte men see many wyght man, Hasteyly to hys armes ran And wenten quykly to the dyke, And defendyd hem hastelyke. There was many gentyl heved Quykly fro the body weved; Scheldes, many schorn in twoo, And many stede stykyd alsoo. And many a knyghte loste his armys, And many a stede drewe theyr tharmes, And manye a doughty man, saun faylle, There was slayn in that bataylle.    Kyng Richard was syke thoo, Al Crystyndom to mekyl woo! He myghte hym nought of hys bed stere, Though his pavyloun hadde ben on fere. Therfore the kyng of Fraunce leet crye Among the Crystene cumpanye That no man scholde, for dedes doute, Passe the clos dyke withoute; But holde them all within That the Sarasynes sholde them not wyn; And thoo that were in icomen Of the Saryzynes that were inomen, Fol hastyly were they don to dede: For them yede no raunsoun to mede!    Why Kyng Richard so syke lay The resoun I yow telle may: For the travaylle of the see And strong eyr of that cuntree, And unkynde cold and hete, And mete and drynk that is nought sete To hys body that he there fonde, As he dede here in Yngelonde. Rychard bad hys men seche For some wys clerk and sertayn leche, Crystyn othir Sarezyn For to loken hys uryn. And every man sayde hys avys, But ther was no man so wys That myghte don his sorwe sese, Ne of hys paynes hym relese. Sory were the folk Englysch, For here lorde laye in grete anguysch; So was the Crystene hoost eke, For Rychard lay so sore seke. On knees prayden the Cristene hoost, To the Fadyr, and Sone, and Holy Goost, Be nyght and day with good entent: “Geve Kyng Richard amendement!” For love of his modyr dere, Here Sone grauntyd her prayere. Thorwgh hys grace and his vertu, He turnyd out of hys agu.    To mete hadde he no savour, To wyn, ne watyr, ne no lycour, But aftyr pork he was alongyd; But though his men scholde be hongyd, They ne myghte in that cuntree, For gold, ne sylver, ne no moné, No pork fynde, take, ne gete, That Kyng Richard myghte ought of eete.    An old knyght was with Richard Kyng; Whenne he wyste of that tydyng, That the kynges maners were swyche, To the styward he spak, prevylyche: “Oure lord kyng sore is syke, iwis, Aftyr pork he alongyd is; And ye may non fynde to selle. No man be hardy hym so to telle! Yif ye dede, he myghte deye! Yow behoves to don als I schal seye, That he wete nought of that. Takes a Sarezyn, yonge and fat; In haste that the thef be slayn, Openyd, and hys hyde of flayn, And soden ful hastyly, With powdyr and with spysory, And with saffron of good colour. Whenne the kyng feles therof savour, Out of agu, yif he be went, He schal have thertoo good talent. Whenne he has a good tast, And eeten weel a good repast, And soupyd of the broweys a sope, Slept aftyr, and swet a drope, Thorwgh Goddes myght and my counsayl, Sone he schal be fresch and hayl.”    The sothe to saye at wyrdes fewe, Slayn and soden was the hethene schrewe; Before the kyng it was forth brought. Quod hys men: “Lord, we have pork sought: Etes and soupes of the broweys swote. Thorwgh grace of God it schal be youre boote.” Before Kyng Rychard karf a knyghte; He eet fastere than he kerve myghte. The kyng eet the flesch and gnew the bones, And drank wel aftyr, for the nones; And whenne he hadde eeten inowgh, Hys folk hem turnyd away and lowgh. He lay stylle and drowgh in hys arme, Hys chaumbyrlayn hym wappyd warme. He lay, and slepte, and swette a stounde And become hool and sounde. Kyng Richard cladde hym and aros, And walkyd abouten in the clos; To alle folk he hym schewyd, Glad was bothe leryd and lewyd, And thankyd Jhesu and Marye That he was out of his maladye.    The Sarezynes spedde day and nyght The dyke to wynne with here myght. The barbycanes they felden a doun And had nygh entred an in icome. Whenne Kyng Richard therof herde, As a wood man he spak and ferde: “Armes me in myn armure, For love of Cryst, oure creature! To fyghte I have gret delyte With houndes that wil us do despyte. Now I me fynde hool and lyght. This day schal I prove my myght Yif I be strong as I was wone, And yif I strokes dele cone, As I was wunt in Yngeland. Have I myn ax in myn hand, Al that I mete schal me fele, And swylk dole I schal hem dele torment; That evere for love of here Mahoun, They schole have here warysoun.” He was armyd to alle ryghtes, And hys footemen, squyers and knyghtes, And the Crystene alle bedene. Wondyr was that hoost to sene! The sothe to say, and nought to hele, The hethene were twoo so fele.    Before wente his Templers, His Gascoynes and his Ospytalers; Oure kyng among the Sarezynes ryt And some to the sadyl he slyt. A kyng he hytte above the scheeld, That hed and helm fleygh into the feeld. Another he has a strok ibrought, That al hys armure halp hym nought. Into the sadyl he clef the ferthe:, Al that he smot it fleygh to the erthe. Blythe was the Crystene felawrede Of Kyng Richard and of hys dede; For non armour withstood hys ax No more than a knyf dos in the wax. Whenne the Sawdon seygh hym so strong, He sayde the devyl was hem among; For Kyng Richard ryght doun slowgh. With al hys hoost he hym withdrowgh, And fleygh quyk with hys barounnage Into a toun men calles Gage. But sertes, al the rerewarde Was islayn with Kyng Rycharde.    The Sarezynys that in Acres ware, Were anoyyd and ful of care Whenne they seyghen the Sawdon flee, And Kyng Richard dounryght slee. Thus al the day tyl it was nyght, They and the Crystene heeld the fyght. At even whenne the sunne was set, Every man drowgh to hys recet. The Crystene, bothe pore and ryche, Wente withinne the clos dyche To reste, for they were wery. Kyng Richard leet make a cry, Trusty folk that nyght the paleys to kepe, Whyl that othere lay and slepe.    The Sarezynys that were withouten, Of Kyng Richard so sore hem douten, For he hadde the prys iwunne. Away thay ryden and swythe runne, That nyght to fle and to hyde, That non of hem durste hym abyde The mountenaunce of ten myle.    When Kyng Richard hadde restyd a whyle, A knyght hys armes gan unlace. Hym to counforte and solace, Hym was brought a sop in wyn: “The hed of that ylke swyn That I of eet,” — the cook he bad, — “For feble I am, feynt and mad. Of myn evyl now I am fere; Serve me therwith at my sopere!” Quod the cook, “That hed I ne have.” Thenne sayde the kyng, “So God me save, But I see the hed of that swyn, For sothe, thou schalt lese thyn!” The cook seygh non othir may bee, He fette the hed and leet hym see. He fel on knees and made a cry, “Loo, here the hed, my lord, mercy!” Hys swarte vys whenne the kyng seeth, Hys blake berd and hys whyte teeth, Hou hys lyppys grennyd wyde: “What devyl is this?” the kyng cryde, And gan to lawghe as he were wood. “What? Is Sarezynys flesch thus good, And nevere erst I nought wyste? By Goddys deth and Hys upryste, Schole we nevere dye for defawte Whyl we may in any assawte Slee Sarezynys, the flesch mowe taken, Sethen and roste hem and doo hem baken, Gnawen here flesche to the bones. Now I have it provyd ones, For hungyr, ar I be woo, I and my folk schole eete moo!”    On the morwe, withouten fayle, The cyté they gunne for to assayle. The Sarezynes myght nought endour; They fledde into the heyghe tour, And cryeden trewes and parlement To Kyng Richard that was so gent, And alsoo to the kyng of Fraunce, And bad mercy without dystaunse. Anon stood up here latymer, And cryede lowde with voys cler: “Heris,” he sayde, “gentyl lordynges,” I yow brynge goode tydynges That Saladyn yow sent by me. He wole that Acres yolden bee And Jerusalem into youre hand, And of Surry, all the land To flum Jordan, the water clere, For ten thousand besauntes be yere; And yif that ye wole noght soo, Ye schole have pes for everemoo, So that ye make kyng of Surry Markes Feraunt, of gret maystry; For he is strengeste man, iwis, Of Crystyndom and of Hethenys.”    Thenne answeryd Kyng Richard: “Thou lyes,” he sayde, “fyle coward! In ylke gaderyng and in ylke a pres, Markes is fals traytour and les. He has whytyd Saladynys hand To be kyng of Surrye-land, And, be the King in Trynyté, That traytour schal it nevere bee! He was Crystene be my fadyr day, And siththen he has renayyd his lay And is becomen a Sarezyn: That God geve hym wol evele fyn!32 He is wurs than an hound! He robbyd syxty thousand pound Out of the Hospytelers hand That my fadyr sente into this land, That was callyd Kyng Henry, Crystene men to governy. I hote hym goo out of this hoost,33 For I swere be the Holy Gost And be Marye that bar Jhesus: Fynde I that traytour among us, Other be nyght, other be dawe, With wylde hors he schal be drawe.”    Thenne answeryd the kyng of Fraunce To Kyng Richard withoute destaunce: “A sufre, sere, bele amys, Thou hast wrong, sere, be Seynt Denys, That thou thretyst that markis That thee nevere yit dede amis. Yif he have ony thyng don ylle, He schal amende it at thy wylle. I am hys borwgh: Loo, here the glove! Tak it, leve sere, for my love!” “Nay,” quod kyng Richard, “be God, my Lord, Ne schal I nevere with hym acord! Ne hadde nevere be lost Acres toun, Ne hadde ben thorwgh hys tresoun. Yif he yelde agayn my faderis tresour, And Jerusalem with gret honour, Thenne my wraththe I hym forgeve, And nevere ellys whyl that I leve.”    Kyng Phylyp was woo therfore, But he durste speke no more: For evere he dredde of dentys hard To underfonge of Kynge Richard; And whenne the latymer herde this, That kynge myght not be Syr Markys, “Heres,” he sayde, “goode lordynges, I yow brynge othir tydynges, That mekyl more is to youre wylle: That oure folk may passe stylle, With lyf and leme, hand and arme, Without dente and without harme, And we wole yelde yow this toun, And the holy croys with gret renoun, And syxty thousand presons, thertoo, And an hundrid thousand besauntes and moo, And have ye schole alsoo herinne Ryche tresore and mekyl wynne, Helmes and hawberks, syxty thousynde, And other ryhchesse ye may fynde; Whete inowgh and othir tresore, To al youre hoost sevene yer and more, And yif ye wole nought this fonge, We may kepe yow out ful longe, And evere to fynde on of oures For to slen ten of youres. For we have herinnne, withouten fable, Syxty thousand men defensable; And we praye, for the love of God, That ye wolden taken oure bode. Takes the tresore, more and lasse, And lat us quyt awey passe!”    Thenne answeryd Kyng Richard: “In myn half, I graunte thee forward, So that ye lete us in come, It schal be don, al and some.” They leten hem in come anon, They token hem into hostage ylkon, And into presoun put them thore. Olde and yonge, lesse and mare, Moste non out of Acres toun Tyl that payde were here raunsoun, And the Holy Croys therwith, Ar they moste have pes or grith.34 There was founde catel strong That was delyd the knyghtes among. Cuntek was at the in-coming; The best tresore hadde Richard, oure kyng. Crystene presouns in Acres toun, He gaf hem clothis gret foysoun, Mete and drynk and armes bryghte, And made hem fel for to fyghte, And took hem into hys partyes To venge God of hys enemyes.    Kyng Richard in Acres hadde nome Of Sarezynys that were thedir icome, That were hys strengeste enemys, Hardy knyghtes and of most prys, Of hethenesse chef lordynges, Prynces, dukes sones, and kynges, Amyrallys and many sawdan: Here names nought telle I can; In presoun they lay bounden faste. To the Sawdon they sente in haste: “We bere so manye grete cheynes, And there men do us so grete peynes, That we may neyther sytte ne lye; But ye us out of presoun bye, And with raunsoun us helpe and borwe, We schole dye or the thrydde morwe.”    The ryche Sawdon was woo therfore; Prynces, eerles, weel twoo score, Amyrall, sawdon, and many lord, Seyden: “We rede make acord With Kyng Richard that is so stoute, For to delyvere oure chyldren oute, That they ne be hongyd, ne todrawe. Of tresore Kyng Richard wole be fawe, That oure chyldren may come hom hayl. Charges mules and hors, be oure counsayl, Of brende gold and of bawdekyn, For oure heyres to make fyn. Men saye Englyssche love weel gyfte.” Of gold, weel twenty mennys lyfte, Were layd on mule and rabyte, Ten eerles alle clad in samyte, Alle olde, hore, and nought yungge, That were weel avysy of tungge, To Kyng Richard the tresore broughte. On knees of grace hym besoughte: “Our Sawdon sendith thee this tresore, And wole be thy frend ever more, For the prisouns that thou dest neme. Let hem goo with lyf and leme! Out of prisoun that thou hem lete, That no man hem slee ne bete; For alle they are doughty vassales, Kynges sones and amyrales. At this tyme the beste doande That be in alle Sarezyn lande, And oure hoost most trustes too. Saladyn loves hem wel alsoo; Lese non of hem he wolde, Nought for a thousand pound of golde.”    Kyng Richard spak with wurdys mylde, “The gold to take God me schylde: Among yow partes every charge. I brought in schyppes and in barge, More gold and sylvyr with me Then has youre lord and swylke three. To hys tresore have I no nede; But, for my love, I yow bede To mete with me that ye dwelle, And aftyrward I schal yow telle, Thorwgh counsayl, I schal yow answere What bode ye schal youre lord bere.”    They grauntyd hym with good wylle, Kyng Rychard callyd hys marchal stylle, And in counsayl took hym alone: “I schal thee telle what thou schalt don, Pryvely, goo thou to the presoun; The Sarezynys of most renoun, That be comen of the ryhcheste kynne, Pryvely slee hem therynne; And ar the hedes off thou smyte, Looke every mannys name thou wryte, Upon a scrowe of parchemyn. And bere the hedes to the kechyn, And in a cawdroun thou hem caste, And bydde the cook sethe hem faste. And loke that he the her off stryppe Of hed, of berd, and eke of lyppe. Whenne we scholde sytte and eete, Loke that ye nought forgete To serve hem herewith in this manere: Lay every hed on a platere; Bryng it hoot forth al in thyn hand, Upward hys vys, the teeth grennand And loke that they be nought rowe. Hys name faste above hys browe, What he hyghte and of what kyn born. An hoot hed bryng me beforn; As I were weel apayde withal, Faste therof ete I shall, As it were a tendyr chyke, To se hou the othere wyl lyke.”     The styward, so says the jeste, Anon dede the kynges byheste. At noon, “a laver,” the waytes blewe,35 The messangerys nought ne knewe Rychardis lawe ne hys custome. Sayde the kyng, “Frendes, ye are welcome!” To hem he was cumpanyable. They were set a syde-table, Salt was set on, but no bred, Ne watyr, ne wyn, whyt ne red. The Sarezynes saten and gunne to stare, And thoughten, “Allas, hou schal we fare?” Kyng Richard was set on des dais With dukes and eerles, prowde in pres. Fro kechene com the fyrste cours, With pypes and trumpes and tabours. The styward took ryght good yeme To serve Kyng Richard to queme, Lest aftyr mete hym tydde harm. A Sarezynys hed, also warme, He broughte oure kyng — was it nought leued! His name was wreten in hys forheved! The messaungerys were servyd soo, Evere an hed betwyxe twoo. In the forehed wreten hys name: Therof they had all grame! What they were whenne they seyen, The teres ran out of here eyen; And whenne they the lettre redde, To be slayn ful sore they dredde.    Kyng Richard hys eyen on hem threwe, Hou they begunne to chaunge here hewe. Fore here frendes they syghyd sore, That they hadde lost forevere more. Of here kynde blood they were. Thenne they myghte weel forbere For to pleye and for to leyghe! Non of hem wolde hys mes neyghe, Ne therof eeten on morsel. The kyng sat and beheeld fol wel. The knyght that scholde the kyng serve, With a scharp knyf the hed gan kerve. Kyng Richard eet with herte good: The Sarezynes wenden he hadde be wood. Every man sat stylle and pokyd othir; They sayden, “This is the develys brothir That sles oure men and thus hem eetes!” Kyng Richard thoo nought forgetes; Abouten hym gan loke ful yerne With wrathful semblaunt and eyen sterne. The messangers thoo he bad: “For my love bes alle glad, And lokes ye be weel at eese! Why kerve ye nought off youre mese, And eetes faste as I doo? Tel me why ye louren soo?” They seten stylle and sore quook; They durste neyther speke ne look. In the erthe they wolde have crope, To be slayn fol weel they hope; There was non answeryd a word. Quod Kyng Richard: “Beres fro the bord The mete that ye before hem sette, And other mete before hem fette.” Men broughten bred, withouten bost, Venysoun, cranes, and good rost, Pyment, clarré, and drynkes lythe. Kyng Richard bad hem alle be blythe. Was non of hem that eete lyste,36 Kyng Richard here thoughte wel wyste, And sayde: “Frendes, beth nought squoymous, This is the maner of myn hous, To be servyd ferst, God it woot, With a Sarezynys hede al hoot; But youre maner, I ne knewe! As I am kyng, Crysten and trewe, Ye schole be therof sertayn, In saf condyt to wende agayn; For I ne wolde, for no thyng, That wurd of me in the world scholde spryng, That I were so vylayne of maners For to mysdoo messangeres.”    Whenne they hadde eeten, the cloth was folde, Kyng Richard gan hem to beholde: On knees they askyd leve to gon, But of hem alle was ther nought on That in message was thedyr come, That hym hadde levere have ben at home,37 With wyf, frendes, and here kynde, Thenne al the good that was in Ynde!    Kyng Rychard spak to an old man: “Wendes hom and tell thy Sowdan, Hys malycoly that he abate, And says that ye come to late. To slowghly was youre terme igesseyd,38 Or ye come the flesch was dressyd That men scholden serve with me Thus at noon and my meyné. Say hym it schal hym nought avayle Though he forbarre oure vytayle, Brede, wyne, flesshe, fysshe and kunger, Of us non schal dye for hungyr, Whyle that we may wenden to fyght, And slee the Sarezynes dounryght, Wassche the flesche and roste the hede. With oo Sarwzyn I may wel fede, one; Wel a nyne or a ten, Of my goode, Crystene men.” Kyng Richard sayd: “I you waraunt, Ther is no flesch so norysshaunt, Unto an Ynglyssche Crysten man, Partryk, plover, heroun, ne swan, Cow, ne oxe, scheep, ne swyn,    As is the flessh of a Saryzyne! There he is fat and therto tendre, And my men are lene and sclendre. Whyl any Sarezyn quyk bee Lyvande now in this cuntree, For mete wole we nothyng care: Aboute faste we schole fare, And every day we schole eete Al so manye as we may gete. To Yngelond wole we nought gon, Tyl they be eeten, everylkon.”    The messangerys agayn hom tournyd, Before the lord they comen and mournyd. The eldeste tolde the Sawdan Kyng Richard was a noble man, And sayde, “Lord, I thee werne, In this world is non so sterne! On knees we tolde hym oure tale, But us ne gaynyd no gale. Of thy gold wolde he non; He swor he hadde betere won Of ryche tresore thenne hast thou. To us he sayde, ‘I geve it yow, Tresore of sylvyr, gold, and palle, Deles it among yow alle.’ To mete he bad us abyde, We were set at bord hym besyde, That stood Rychardes table negh; But non of us before hym segh, No bred brought forth, whyt ne sour, But salt, and non othir lycour. What mes fyrst before hym come, Weel I beheld, good keep I nome, A knyght broughte fro the kechyn An hed soden of a Sarezyn! Withouten her, on a a plater brode, Hys name beforn hys hed-schode, Was iwreten aboven hys yghe. Me standes non awe for to lye, Whos hed it was, my feres aske, It was the Sawdones sone of Damaske! At borde as we sate in fere, We were servyd in this manere: Evere an hed betwen tweye. For sorwe we wende for to deye! Ther come before my felaw and me The kynges sone of Nynyve. Hys of Perce hym that sat me by; The thrydde, hys of Samary; The ferthe, hys of Egypte: Thoo ylkon of us hys eyen wypte!39 The fyfthe, hys of Auffryke, For sorwe thoo we gan to syke, Us thoughte oure herte barst ryght insundyr! Lord, yit thou myght here a wundyr. Before the kyng a knyght in haste, Karf off the hed, and he eet faste. With teeth he gnew the flesch ful harde, As a wood lyoun he farde, With hys eyen stepe and grym, He spak and we behelde hym. For drede we wende for to sterve. He bad us that we scholde kerve Oure mes and eeten as he dede. To Mahoun we boden oure bede, Fro deth that he be oure waraunt! He segh oos make soure semblaunt, For drede hou we begunne to quake! Oure mes he bad hys men uptake, And othir mete thoo us fette, Hoot whyte bred before us sette, Gees, swannes, cranes, venysoun, And other wylde foul gret foysoun, Whyte wyn and red, pyment and clarré, And sayde: ‘Ye be welcome to me. Bes blythe, yif it be youre wylle; Dos gladly and lykes nought ylle, For I knew nought nothyng youre gyse. In my court, this is the servyse: Be servyd ferst, I and myn hynys, With hedes hote of Sarezynys.’ Of hym and hys we stoden swylk eye, For drede and dool we wende to deye. Non of us eet morsel of bred, Ne drank of wyn, whyt ne red, Ne eete of flesche, baken ne brede, So sory were we thenne for drede. Aftyr mete we gunne take leve, He spak to us wordes breve: ‘Ye schole gon in saf coundyte. No man schal do yow dysspyte.’ He sente thee certayn answere: Or that we myghte come there, Men of ryhcheste kyn were slawe, He geves ryght nought though thou withdrawe40 And hyde stor al fro hys hoost. He says, and hys men make boost: He schal nought lete on lyve In al thy land, chyld, ne wyve, But slee alle that he may fynde, And sethe the flesch and with teeth grynde: Hungyr schal hem nevere eyle! Into Yngelond wole he nought seyle Tyl he have maad al playn werk!”    His clothis of gold unto his scherk Saladyn began torase for yre. Kynges, prynces, and many a syre Seyden allas that they hadden lorn Here gentyl heyres of here bodies born, That were so wyghte men and stronge. “Weylaway!” they sayden, “We leve to longe. Herde we nevere swylke mervayle! It is a devyl, withouten fayle. Allas, this werre was begunne! Now Richard has Acres wunne. He has ment, yif he may go forth To wynne est, west, south, and north, And ete oure chyldren and us! Lord Saladyn, we rede thus: Sende to hym, and beseke hym eft, For hem that ben on lyve left. Lete hem goo, yif so he wolde, Geve hym, siththe he wole no golde, Goode males, for the nones, Ful of ryche, precyouse stones, Chargyd in harneys and in coffre. Soo that he wole, thou hym profere, To lete Jhesu and Mary, To geve hym land a gret party That he be in pes, and lete the werre. For he is comen from so ferre, Wylt thou noghte that he his travayle lese. Graunte hym come hym self and chese The landes that hym thynkith best, And make hym Sawdon heyest Aftyr thyself, and ryhcheste kyng; Conferme it hym and hys ospryng. Yif he be payed so to doo, Swythe in pes he come thee to. Thowgh he have thy folk ischent, Thou schalt forgeve thy maltalent. As thy brothir love hym and kysse, And he schal thee teche and wysse In werre to ben bold and wys, Of al the world to wynne the prys. And so shall ye leve and be frendes With joye to your lyves endes.”    Saladyn by hys serjauntes Sende Kyng Richard these presauntes, And besoughte hym of hys men That he hadde in hostage then, And yif he wolde Jhesu forsake, And Mahowne to lord take, Of Surrye he wolde make hym kyng, And of Egipte, that ryche thyng, Of Darras, and of Babyloyne, Of Arabye and of Cessoyne, Of Affryk, and of Bogye, And of the lond of Alysaundrye, Of grete Grece, and of Tyre, And of many a ryche empyre, And make hym he wolde Sawdoun anon Of al Ynde unto Preter Jhon.”41 Kyng Richard answeryd the messangeres: “Fy upon yow losyngeres, On yow and Saladyn, youre lorde! The devyl hange yow be a corde! Gos and says to Saladyn That he make to morwe fyn For alle hys dogges in hostage, Or they schole dye in evyl rage! And yif I mowe leve a fewe yere, Of alle the landes ye have nempnid here, I schal hym lete nought half foote So God do my soule boote! I wolde nought lese my lordes love For al the londes under heven above. And but I have the croys to morwe, They schole dye with mekyl sorwe.”    They answered at the frome, They nyste where the croys was become. Quod Kyng Rychard: “Siththen it is soo, I wot weel what I have to doo. Youre Sawdon is nought so slye, So queyntyly to blere myn yghe.” He callyd his knyghtes sone anon, And bad hem into Acres gon, “And taken Sarezynes syxty thousandes And knytte behynde hem here handes, And ledes hem out of the cyté, And hedes hem withouten pyté And so schal I telle Saladyn To pray me leve on Appolyn!”    They were brought out of the toun, Save twenty he heeld to raunsoun. They were led into the place ful evene; There they herden an aungell of hevene, That seyde, “Seygnyours, tues, tues, Spares hem nought — behedith these!” Kyng Richard herde the aungelys voys, And thankyd God and the Holy Croys. There were they behedyd hastelyke, And casten into a foul dyke; Thus Kyng Richard wan Acrys. God geve hys soule moche blys! Hys doughty dedes, who so wyl lere, Herkenes now, and ye mowe here.    Merye is in the tyme of May Whenne foules synge in here lay. Floures on appyl trees and perye, Smale foules synge merye, Ladyes strowen here boures With rede roses and lylye floures. Gret joye is in frith and lake, Beste and bryd plays with his make. The damyseles lede daunse; Knyghtes playe with scheld and launse In joustes and turnementes they ryde, Many a caas hem betyde, Many chaunces and strokes hard! So befel to Kyng Richard, Kyng Richard Phelyp to feste bad; Aftyr mete, thoo they were glad, Rychard gaf gyftes gret wones, Gold and sylvyr and precyouse stones; To herawdes and to dysours, To tabourrers and to trumpours Hors and robes to bere his los; Thorwgh here cry his renoun ros, Hou he was curteys and free. Ful noble was that ensemblé! Kyng Richard gaf castelles and tounnes To hys eerlys and to barounnes, To have therinne here sustenaunce. Kyng Richard bad the kyng of Fraunce: “Geve of thy gold and of thy purchase To erl, baroun, knyght and serjaunt of mace! Frely aquyte thou hem here travaylle; They swonke for thee in bataylle. Yif thou have eft with hym to done, They wole be the gladdere eftsone To helpe thee at thy nede.” Kyng Phelyp took therof non hede, But layde thertoo a def eere And gaf hym ryght non answere: Kyng Richardes wordes he took in vayn. Richard began unto hym sayn: “Among us be pes and acord; Graced be Jhesu Cryst, oure Lord, That gaf us myght this toun to wynne! To ryde forth lat us begynne Saladyn the Sawdon to anoye And fonde hym for to destroye. Yif he scounfyte us in bekyr, Yif nede be, we mowe be sekyr, Yif God us have lyf ischape, And we may hedyr ascape, And come quyk withinne the walle, For Saladyn and hys folk alle, And the gates be weel ischet, We be sekyr of strong recet.”  '  Kyng Richard gan Phelyp to telle: “I rede we here no lengere dwelle. Ryde we forth the cuntré to seche, And Phelyp, doo as I thee teche. Myn hoost I schal parte on three, And Kyng Phelyp, tak thy meyné, Departe hem in hostes tweye, And looke thou doo as I thee seye. Toun, cytee, and castel, yif thou wynne, Slee alle the folk that be therinne. In Goddes name, I thee forbede, For gold, sylvyr, ne for no mede, That they may profere and geven, Ryche ne pore, lat non leven, Hosebonde ne wyf, mayde ne grome, But yif he wole take Crystyndome!”    Phelyp the wurdes undyrstood. Anon he gan to chaunge mood That kyng Richard at hys devys, Sette hym and hese at so lytyl prys.42 Phelyp to hym was cumpanyable; He gan to glose and make fable, And thankyd hym with glad semblaunt, And sayde, “Brothir, I thee graunt, To doo as thou sayst, sekyrly, For thou art wysere man than I, And of werre canst wel more.” Netheles, he was agrevyd sore. For drede, he and hys men so dede As Kyng Richard hadde hem bede, In aventure that he hente knokkes. Hys men he delyd in twoo flokkes; Richard, with hys hoost, wente hys way, And fro hym to wynne pray. With love they departyd asundyr, But now ye may here a wundyr.    Frenssche men arn arwe and feynte, And Sarezynys be war and queynte, And of here dedes engynous; The Frenssche men ben covaytous. Whenne they sytten at the taverne, There they ben stoute and sterne, Bostfyl wurdes for to crake, And of here dedes, yelpyng to make. Lytyl wurth they are and misprowde; Fyghte they cunne with wurdes lowde, And telle no man is here pere; But whene they comen to the mystere, And see men begynne strokes dele, Anon they gynne to turne here hele, And gynne to drawe in here hornes43 As a snayl among the thornes. Slake a bore of here boost!    Kyng Phelyp anon with hys hoost, A strong cyté he besette That was callyd Taburette. With hys hoost he layde it aboute; The Sarezynes myghte neyther in ne oute, Lest they scholden be tohewe. On the walles armyd they hem schewe, Out of toureles and of kyrnelles, Sette up baners and penselles, And manly gan hem to defende. There to dye the Frenssche wende. Trumpes lowde for bost they blowe, But durste they neyther schete ne throwe With bowe, slynge ne arweblast To make the Sarezynes with agast; Ne the cyté for to assayle. But of the toun the chef amyrayle, Hys name was callyd Terryabaute: “Lord, ar thou geve us assaute, Alle the folk of this toun Profere hem to knele a doun, And rewefully with oo cry, To seke thee myldely of mercy; And the toun they wolen unto thee yelde, And alle the goodes that they welde. Man, wumman, every Sarezyn, Grauntith thee with herte fyn Every man to paye a besaunt. Sere, on swylk a comenaunt, That thou graunte that they crave: Here lyves and lemes for to have, Bestes, catel, and tresore, And that they wole for everemore Of thyn heyres holden this toun.” Phelyp of hem took raunsoun: For mede he sparede hys foon. Thus with hem he was at on, And bad hys folk, up lyf and leme, No good fro hem to beneme, Meete ne drynk, catel ne cloth. Alle they sworen hym hool oth To ben hys men that were there; And hys baner they uprere On a schaft in the heyeste tour With flour delys of gold and asour.    Thoo they hadde this iwunne, To breke sege thenne they begunne. They chargyd in waynes and in cartes, Swerdes and speres, scheeldes and dartes. Kyng, eerles, barouns, knyghtes and squyers, Ryden ryally on trappyd destrers, The foote men yeden on here feete; Ryght soo they helden the heyghe strete, That they turne nought, ne outraye. They trumpyd, and here baners dysplaye Of sylk, sendel, and many a fane: Ful ryghte way wenten to Archane. Phelyp of hem took raunsoun, Ryght as he dede at the othir toun, And leet hem leve forth in pes, But for the lesse, the more he les.    Kyng Richard with hys hoost gan ryde, And wente be anothir syde, With many an eerl and baroun Iborn of Ynglyssche nacyoun: All hardy men and stronge of bones, And weel armyd for the nones. They seten on stedes, goode and stronge, Many Gascoyn was hem among, And so ther were of Lumbardy, Wol goode knyghtes, and hardy, And folk off the coost of Alemayn, And hys eme, Henry of Chaumpayn, And hys maystyr, Robert of Leycetere, Among hem alle was non hys betere. Fouk Doyly and Thomas Multone That evere yit was here wone In fyght fyrst for to bede, To helpe here kyng weel to spede. Off the coost of Braundys with hym nam, A noble baroun that hyghte Bertram, And hys clergy, and hys freres, And Templeres, and hys Hospytaleres. The numbre was by ryght assent Of hors-men an hondryd thousend, And of foote men, swylke ten, Garscoynes, Lumbardes, and Englyssche men. Al becoveryd were feeldes and pleynes With knyghtes, footmen and with sweynes.    Kyng Richard hovyd and beheeld, And devysyd hys hoost in the feeld, And to hys hoost he sayde thus: “Folk inowe we have with us. I rede we departe hem in three, That on part schal wende with me; That othir, certayn for alle cas, Schal lede of Multoun, Sere Thomas, And Fouke Doyly schal lede the thrydde. On lyf and leme, now I yow bydde, Toun, cyté, castel, yif that ye wynne, Spares non that is therinne. Sleys hem alle and takes here good; But yif they graunte with mylde mood To be baptyzed in fount-ston: Elles on lyve loke ye lete non!”    Kyng Rychard with hys cumpany Wenten to Sudan Turry; Thomas, a knyght engynous, Wente with hys hoost to Orglyous; And Sere Fouke, the Doyly, Wente to the cyté of Ebedy. Every man belayde hys toun aboute. No Sarazyn durste come withoute, For the sege was so strong and hard. But speke we now of Kyng Richard That Sudan Turry has belayd. The Sarezynes at the fyrste brayd, Here brygges wounden up in haste, And here gates barryd faste; Hem to defende they gunne asaye. Kyng Richard hys baner leet dysplaye. Whenne Sarezynys saygh it arerde, Of hym they were sore aferde; For drede they begunne to quake. Here wardayn has hys counsayl take; He was callyd Grandary. In the cyté, he leet make a cry: Ilke a man that myghte armes bere, Goo to the wal the toun to were. The Sarezynes armyd forth lepe Upon the walles the toun to kepe, Stout in touret and in hurdys. Richard bente an arweblast of vys, And schotte it to a tour ful evene, And it smot thorwgh Sarezynes sevene. Ded fyl the dogges vyle, But lystenes of a queynte gyle! Kyng Richard leet hys folk apparayle, On that on half the toun to assayle. The toun folk drowgh to that on syde, Kyng Richard sente of hys men that tyde, On heyghe laddres for to gon in That weren iwrought of queynte gyn. With yrene hokes, goode and stronge, On the walles they gunne hem honge. Sevene men myghten gon in on brede; Thus men ovyr the walles yede, Three thousande or the Sarezynes wende, So they gan the toun defende. The Crystene comen in or they weten; They schotten to hem and harde smeten, Gret peple of hem doun felle, But thoo the cunstable herde telle That the Crystene were in comen, Ten thousand he has i-nomen; The othere, he leet kepe the toun. “For these,” he sayde, “gos no raunsoun. Thar hem no mercy crave! Kyng Richard schal hem nevere save; Anon-ryght they schole deye!”    Whenne Kyng Richard herde hem so seye, For scorn he gan to lawghe schrylle, And bad hys men be of good wylle, “And prove we this toun to wynne, Rescue this folk that be withinne.” The Sarezynes kydden here myght The Crystene to sle doun-ryght That were comen ovyr the walle. Oure folk togedere heeld hem alle; Arwes and quarelles to hem drowen: Alle that thay hytten anon thay slowen. With egre mayn gaf hem bekyr. Of good help for they were sekyr Of Kyng Richard that was withouten. Oure Crystene men ran abouten, And some to the gates they sterte, Alle that they founden thorwgh they gerte. And threwen hem out of the tour, And cryeden: “Sere kyng, do us socour! Savely thou schalt in come, In lytyl whyle, it schal be nome!” Thus they gunne Kyng Richard grete, And the brygges doun thay lete, And setten the gates up on brode. Kyng Richard was the fyrste that in rode. And next hym, Roberd Touneham, Robert of Leycetre and Sere Bertram. These reden in the vawmewarde; To slee the houndes, non ne sparde. Kyng Richard, hys ax in hond he hente, And payde Sarezynys here rente! Swylke levery he hem delte, Al that he hytte, anon they swelte. They slowe every Sarezyn, And took the temple of Appolyn. They felden it doun and brende Mahoun; And al the tresore of the toun He gaf to knyght, squyer and knave, Al so mekyl as they wolde have. Sarezynes none on lyve he lafte; But in a tour on an hygh schafte, Kyng Richard sette up hys baner, And wan the toun on this maner.    Now beth in pes, lystenes apas! I schal yow telle of Sere Thomas, The noble baroun of Multone, That lay with many a modyr sone44 At Orglyous, a strong castel Lystenes now what chaunce befel! The Sarezynes for felonye, Soone senten out a spyye That hadde ben Crystene in hys youthe. Many an evyl wrenche he couthe! He come to Thomas and thus sayde, And thoughte to have hym betrayde: “Sere, I am a Crystene man. I brak presoun and out I wan. Truste ryght wel to my speche. Yif thou wylt doo as I thee teche, Thou schalt wynne hem in a whyle. In al the toun ther is no gyle; The sothe to thee, I am beknowe.” Quod Thomas: “Byndes hym in a throwe! Al is les that the thef saith; He is at the Sarezynes faith. He was sent us to beswyke. Hys comyng schal hym evele lyke; Therfore, he schal anon dyen. So schal men teche hym to lyen! And hys eeren in twoo slyttes, And to hys feet a strong roop knyttes, And hanges hym up tyl he dye.” Quod the renay: “Mercy I crye! To no vyle deeth ye me dooth! Al that I can, I schal seye soth. Yif ye me fynde in falshede, Other in wurd, other in dede, That ye mowe evere see or wryten, Anon myn hed ye ofsmyten! I was sent to betraye yow; I schal yow telle: herkenes how!    Before the gate is a brygge — Lestnes weel what I schall sygge — Undyr the bryggge ther is a swyke Coverde clos, joynande queyntelyke,45 And undyrnethe is an hasp Schet with a stapyl and a clasp; And in that hasp a pyn is pylt. Thou myght bewar, yif thou wylt — Me were wol loth that thou mystydde — Though thou and thy folk were in the mydde, And the pyn smeten out were, Doun ye scholden fallen there In a pyt syxty fadme deep; Therfore, bewar and tak good keep. At the passyng ovyr the trappe, Many on has had ful evyl happe. Be peays it closes togedere aghen; Where it is no man may seen.” “Now, Sarezyn, anon me rede, Hou we schole doo at this nede?” “Thou has horsmen and putaylle; Er thanne thou the toun assaylle, Ye have with yow goode engynes, Swylke knowen but fewe Sarezynes. A mangenel thou doo arere, And soo thou schalt hem weel afere. Into the toun thou slynge a ston grete, And also, swythe thou me lete Passe into the toun aghen; And also soone thou schalt seen The toun they schole yelde soone; But I bydde thee a bone: Yif I doo thee wynne this toun, That thou geve me my warysoun.” Quod Thomas: “Thertoo I graunte.” They departyd with that comenaunte.    The engyne was bent and set al preste; A gret ston into the toun was keste. They slowe men and houses doun bare Or ony man of hem was ware. “We be ded! Help, Mahoun!” they cryede; In every syde, away they hyede To hyden hem for woo and drede. The renay into the toun yede And sayde to the wardayn, Orgayl: “We be dede, withouten fayl! He that the ston to yow threwe, Al youre tresoun fol wel he knew: How youre brygges gos insundyr, And al the tresoun that is therundyr, And hou it gos aghen be peys. Bes war, barounnes and burgeys! It helpes yow nought youre gates to schette Hym and hys men out for to lette. Yif ye fyghte and yow defende, Moo stones he wole yow sende, Schende yow and the toun doun bete. Stondynge hous wil he non lete; It is betere let hym in stylle Than hereinne that he yow spylle; Thenne we may be trust to leve.” But whenne he hadde this counseil geve, As he hem redde, they deden anon. “Mercy, Thomas!” they cryeden echon. “Have here the keyes of this cyté; Doo therwith what thy wylle bee, Yif soo thou graunte us oure lyves, And oure chyldren, and our wyves.”    Thomas of Multoun the keyes fong, And another ston inslong To Sere Mahouns habitacle, And smot out a gret pynacle. Out com the warden, Orgayl, And an hundryd knyghts in his parayle: Barfoot, ungyrt, withouten hood. “Mercy, Thomas! Spylle nought oure blood! Tak thee alle the goodes that we have. With that thou wylt oure lyves save, Lat us passe awey al nakyd.” “Brekes the brygge,” quod Thomas, “that ye han makyd, And lyme and ston throwes in the pyt, Or, be Jhesu that in hevene syt, Alle therinne, ye schole brenne, That non schal goo, ne out renne, Of yow alle, pore ne ryche, But yif ye fylle weel the dyche To the banke, al in a resse, That we anon may faste in presse.”    The amyral therof was blythe, And brak the brygges al soo swythe, And lym and ston keste in the pytte. Anon it was feld and fordytte Up to the banke, maad al playn In lengthe and brede, ful trust, certayn That twenty men, othir besyde, On armyd stedes myghten inryde, Withoute drede have entree; Thus, they come to that cytee. The toun folk comen, alle and some, And fayre hym they gunne welcome, Cryede mercy with lowde stevene. Agayn on Crystene man they were sevene In that cyté of Sarezynes. Gold and sylvyr and bawdekynes To Sere Thomas anon they profere, And with good wyl to hym ofere Landes, houses, and tresore, Of hym to holde for evere more.    Before Thomas com the renay, “Mercy, Lord, thynk, I thee pray, For this toun what thou me hyghte As thou were a gentyl knyghte. No more wole I that thou me geve, But mete and drynk whyl that I leve. For wollewarde on my bare feet,46 I schal walken in snowgh and sleet, Me to amende of my synne, The joye of hevene for to wynne!” To a preest, he schroof hym clene. The comenaunt that was hem betwene, Thomas grauntyd with good wylle; Thus with hym he lefte stylle, In werre and pes whan he gan wende, Evere unto hys lyves ende.    Lordyngs, heres to my pleynte! Ye schal here of a tresoun queynte, Hou the Sarezynes have bespoken Of Crystene men to ben awroken; Hou the amyral hem redde: “Whenne the Crystene be to bedde, And they ben in here fyrste sleepe, We schole come armyd, on an hepe. On schal dwelle the clos withinne, The gate to unschette and unpynne, And stylly to unschette the lok. We schole come prevyly in a flok, And slee Thomas of Multone, And with hym, every modyr sone That he has with hym brought.” Therof Sere Thomas wyste right nought. They soden flesch, rost and brede, And to the soper faste they yede. Plenté ther was of bred and wyn, Pyment, clarry, good and fyn: Of cranes, swannes, and venysoun, Partryhches, plovers, and heroun, Of larkes, and smale volatyle. The Sarezynes, al for a gyle, Of strengeste wyn gaf hem to drynke. They were wery, and lest weel wynke; They slepte faste, and gunne to route. The Sarezynes, they were alle withoute, And comen armyd to the gate. The renay stood redy therate. They knokkede on the wyket; He leet it stande stylle ischet, And tolde Thomas that he herde, Al togeder hou it ferde. Sere Thomas no bost gan make; Anon hys folk he gan to awake. “For Goddys love,” he hem bed, Dyghte yow tyt or ye ben ded!” They styrten up and were afrayde For that he hadde to hem sayde. They armyd hem swythe yerne, And wenten out by a posterne Er thenne the Sarezynys wyste; That whyle they hovyd and gunne to presten, With strengthe wolde in have wunnen, The Crystene to the gatys runnen, And schetten faste with the kaye. By that began to sprynge the daye. Bowe and arweblast the Cristene bente, Thorwghout every stret they wente, And schotten arwes and quarel; Many Sarezyn ded doun fel. They ne lefte, be way ne hous, No man levande in Orglyous, Burgeys, ne wyf, ne children ying.    Whenne they had maad this rekenyng, He gaf hys men, withouten othis, All the tresore and the clothis, Sylvyr and gold, every grot, Every man hadden hys lot. Ther was non soo lytyl page That ne hadde to hys wage Of gold and sylvyr and gret tresore To be ryche for everemore. Thomas leet, or he wente then, Out of presoun the Crystene men, Every pylgrym and palmere, Gaf hem rente and hous there, With hem stabled the toun aghen; Who so com ther myghte weel seen, In ylke an hygh chef touret, Kyng Richardes armes were upset.    Lordynges, now ye have herd Of these townes, hou it ferd; Hou kyng Richard with hys maystry Wan the toun of Sudan Turry; Orglyous wan Thomas Multone, And slowgh every modyr sone. Of Ebedy we schal speke, That faste now hath here gate steke, Whenne Fouke Doyly it bylay, That entre in nought he may. The cyté was strong and stoute; Sevene myle it was aboute. Thrytty pryse toures be tale, In every tour, a cheef amyrale. Folk of armes, by ryght ascent, Numbre ther were fyfty thousend. With other smal putayle That there come in to the batayle, That ne cowde no man acounte To how manye they wolde amounte. Sere Fouke broughte goode engynes, Swylke knewe but fewe Sarezynes. In every half he leet hem arere, His enemyes a newe play to lere. A mangenel he leet bende, To the prys-tour a ston gan sende; That ston whanne it out fleygh, The Sarezynes that it seygh, “Allas!” they cryeden, and hadden wondyr, “It routes as it were a thondyr!” On the tour the ston so hytte, That twenty feet awey it smytte. To another a ston he threwe, For to make hem game newe. Al that on syde he smot away, And slowgh dogges of fals fay. They beet doun the toures all In the toun and on the walle. A prys tour stood ovyr the gate; He bente hys engyne and threwe therate A gret ston that harde drof, That the tour al torof, The barre, and the hurdys, The gate barst, and the portecolys. Therto he gaf anothir strook To breke the bemes alle of ook, And slowgh the folk that therinne stood. The othere fledden, and were nygh wood, And sayden it was the develys dent. “Allas, Mahoun! What has he ment, This Ynglyssche dogge that hyghte Fouke? He is no man: he is a pouke That out of helle is istole! An evyl deth moot he thole For us beseges faste. Yif he moo stones to us caste, Al this toun wole be doun bete. Stondande hous wole he non lete!”    Sere Fouke gan hym apparaylle, With his folk the toun to assaylle. Or he the toun with strengthe wan, There was slayn many a man! The toun dykes on every syde, They were depe and ful wyde. Ful of grut no man myghte swymme, The wal stood faste upon the brymme. Betwen hem myghte no man stande. The archers al of this lande Schotten in with arewes smale; The toun folk ne gaf no tale. The Sarezynes wenten up on the walles, And schotten with areweblast and spryngalles, And with quarelles they gunne hem stonye. Of oure folk, they slowen monye: Envenymyd here takyl was. But whenne Fouke Doyly seygh that caas, That hys men scholde be slawe, He bad hem to withdrawe: “And brynges trees, and manye a bowgh.” To don hys wylle folk come inowgh. Crystene men maden hem a targe Of dores and of wyndowes large. Some caughten a bord and some an hach, And broughten to tymbyr, and thach, And grete schydes, and the wode, And slunge it into the mode, And the thach above theron, That Crystene men myghte on gon To the wal, and stonde sekyr, And hand be hand to geve bekyr: A sory beverage there was browen! Quarellys and arweys thykke flowen; The Ynglyssche slowen that they oftoke. Durste no man over the walles loke, That the Crystene hem ovyrthrewe. And wylde fyr ovyr the walles they blewe: Many an hous, anon ryght, Bycome upon a fayr lyght, Many a lane and many a strete. The Sarezynes, thoo, for hete, Drowgh out godes, and faste gan flye: “Allas!” and “Help!” lowde gan they crye. The Ynglyssche men herden the cry, They were stronge and wel hardy; To wynne the toun weel they wende. They withinne weel hem defende. Though it were soo that on doun falle, Another styrte upon the walle In the stede there he stood, And weryd it weel with herte good.    Among the toun folk was no game; To counseyl they gaderyd hem insame. Thenne sayde the chef amyrale: “Lordynges, lystnes to my tale! This sege is gret, thys fyr is stronge; Thus may we nought dure longe. To slen us they have gret desyre, They have set oure toun afyre! Pes of hym tydes us no graunt, But it be at swylke a comenaunt That we oure god, Mahoun, forsake, And Crystyndom undyrtake, And trowe in Jhesu and Mary. Despyt it wore, and velony47 That we scholde leve on fals lay! So arme hym, every man that may, That strong is wepene for to bere, And fonde we this toun to were! Of hoost, we have swylke ten As he has of Crystene men To fyghte with us now hedyr brought. Bes bold and doutes hym ryght nought! Betere it is that we outrenne Thenne as wrehches in hous to brenne, And frye in oure owne gres! Englyssche be feynte and herteles: Of mete and drynk they have defawte. We scholen hem slee alle in asawte, And fellen hem alle in the feelde. Hangyd be he that this toun yelde To Crystene men whyl he may leve!” But whenne he hadde this counseyl geve, Every man hys armes on keste, And to hym they come alle preste; For to fyghte they were ful fel. To here temple they wente ful snell; Ylke a man armyd in hys queyntyse, And made there here sacrefyse To Mahoun and to Jubiterre, That he hem helpe in here werre: “We hadde nevere nede or now, And here we make hym oure avow: The prys this day yif that we wynne, That we schole nevere blynne For to fyghte with Crystene schrewe Tyl that they ben al tohewe.” In foure partyes they delte here route, And at the foure gates they issuyd oute.    The fyrste hoost Sere Arcade ledde, All aboute on brede they spredde. Sere Cudary ledde that othir, And with hym, Orphias, hys brothir. The thrydde hoost with hym gan lede Sere Materbe, wyght in wede; Sere Gargoyle ledde the ferthe. There they rede, al the erthe Undyr the hors feet it quook. Sere Fouke beheeld and gan to look. Here folk were rengyd in that playn, Foure score thousand, for sothe to sayn, Of footmen, knyghtes, and squyers, And of lordes with baners. Ther were syxty amyrales, The soth to say, in sertayn tales. On stedes weel trappyd, armyd they ryden, Redy batayle to abyden.    Sere Fouke gan hys folk ordeyne, As they scholden hem demeyne. Formeste he sette hys arweblasteres, And aftyr that, hys gode archeres, And aftyr, hys staff slyngeres, And othere with scheeldes and with speres. He devysyd the ferthe part With swerd and ax, knyf and dart. The men of armes com al the last. Quod Fouke: “Seres, beth nought agast, Though that they ben moo than wee!” They blyssyd hem and fel on kne: “Fadyr, and Sone, and Holy Gost,” Quod Fouke, “Kepe the Crystene hoost! Mary milde oure erande bede! Thy Chyld us helpe at our nede, And kepe oure honour, we thee preye! Prest we ben for thee to deye, And for Hys love that deyde on roode!”    The Sarezynes with egre mode, Here wepenes begunne for to grype. They trumpyd anon and gunne to pype. To fyghte the Crystene were ful swyft; Ylke a lord hys baner gan uplyft, Of kynde armes of hys owen,48 That his men scholde hym knowen, And to folewe hym that tyde In the bataylle where they gan ryde. Sarazynes comen with gret wylle When the Crystene myghte drawe hem tylle. To schete the arweblasteres hem dresse, And the archeres to hem gesse. Sere Fouke leet sette up a standard With armes of the Kyng Richard. Whenne the Sarezynes it sen, They wende Richard hadde there iben. Among hem alle in bataylle thore, Of hym they were adred ful sore. Knyghtes and amyralles prowde, “Kylles doun ryght,” they cryeden lowde. “Brynges the cyté out of cares! Hangyd be he that hys foo spares!”    Sere Archade took a gret launse, And come prykande with bobaunce. To Fouke Doyly he gan it bere, And with anothir, Fouke mette hym there. Ryght in pleyn cours in the feelde, He hytte hym upon the scheelde. Ryght thorwghout the herte it karff: The mysbelevyd paynym starff.    With bost come Sere Cudary Agayn a Crystene knyght hardy. With a fawchoun he gan hym smyte; Sekyrly, it wolde weel byte. In the nekke he hytte hym withal, That the hed trendelyd off as a bal. On a rabyte com Orphias, For bost he prekyd a gret pas. A gret fawchoun in hand he bar: “Come fyght with me now hoo that dar!” Sir John Doyly, Sir Foukes nevew, A yonge knyghte of gret vertew, In hande he took a spere long: The schafte that was bothe styfe and strong, And on hys scheeld, he smot hym soo That it cleved evenen in twoo, And slewe hym there sekyrly, And sayde, “Dogge, there thou ly And reste thee there tyl domysday, For thou art payyd of thy pay!”    Togedere whenne the hoostes mete, The archers myghten no more schete. Men of armes, the swerdes out breyden, Balles out of hoodes soone ther pleyden.49 Swylke strokes they hem geven, That helme and bacynet al toreven, That on the schuldre fel the brayn; The Crystene men slowen hem with mayn. The foote folk and sympyl knaves, In hande they henten ful goode staves. Ther was no Sarezyn in that flok That, yif that he hadde had a knok With a staff wel iset On helm other on bacynet, That he ne yede doun, saun fayle, Off hys hors top over taylle. Sone withinne a lytyl stounde, The moste party yede to grounde. The lordes saygh hou that they spedde; Anon hastyly they fledde: Into the toun they wolde agayn.    Sere Fouke and hys men therof were fayn eager The paas to kepe and to lette; On every half they hem withsette, That non of hem ne myghte ascape. The Crystene on hem gan faste to frape. Whenne the foot folk weren islawe, Grete lordynges doun they drawe Of stedes and rabytes trappyd; Anon here hedes were of clappyd. That Jhesu hem helpyd it was wel sene; The Sarezynes weren islayn alle clene, Strypyd hem nakyd to the serke; But whene they hadde maad al pleyn werk, Sere Fouk, that noble man and wyse, With trumpes he leet blowe the prys. No man woulde tho dogges berye: Crystene men resten and maden hem merye. Of good wyn ylke man drank a draught, And whenne that they herte hadde caughte,50 Colyd hem, and keveryd here state, Anon they broken the toun gate. Syre Fouk with his men inrode, No Sarezyn there hym abode. Every Sarezyn that they mette, With swyche wessayl they hem grette For the love of here Mahoun, That by the schuldre they schoof the croun. The footemen come behynde, And slowgh alle that they myghte fynde. Man, wumman, al yede to swerde, Bothe in hous and eke in yerde. The Crystene men the fyr gan quenche; There was more good than man myghte thenche Of sylvyr and gold in that cyté, The Crystene men hadde gret plenté. Ful curteysely seyde Sere Fouke, “Every man hys wynnyng brouke Amonges yow alle to dele and dyghte.” For good was no nede to fyghte. Crystene men Sere Fouke lete, In every lane and every strete, To take keep and to wake, By nyght and day warde to make, For to save weel afyn Fro the Sawdon Saladyn. On the toun wal, on every corner, He leet sette up a baner Upon schaft brode dysplayde, With Kyng Richardes armes portrayde, In sygne, to bere record That Kyng Richard was here ovyrlord.    Whenne he hadde stabelyd the toun, With hys hoost he wente boun To Orglyous to Sere Thomas. Forth they wenten a gret pas To Kyng Rychard to Sudan Turry, And he hem took and sette hym by. Every man tolde other is chaunce. To hem come the kyng of Fraunce. Unto Acres they gan turne, Aftyr swynk there to sojurne, To dwelle and reste hem a stounde, To hele hem that hadde gret wounde. Upon a day aftyrward, Kyng Phelyp eet with kyng Richard, Dukes, eerles, and barouns, Men of Fraunce of most renouns; With hem alle, the knyghtes free That they broughten fro beyunde the see. Thomas of Multone, Fouke Doyly, Erles and barouns, sekyrly, Of Yngelond, Gascoyne, and of Spayne, Of Lumbardy, Gyan, and Alemayne. Trumpes blewen, tabours dasschen, Mete was greythid, they gunne to wasschen. They were set doun at a table, And weel iservyd, withouten fable, To here talent of flesch and fysch, Frenssche men, Lumbardes, Gascoynes, Ynglysch. Of ryche wyn ther was plenté, Pyment and ryche clarré. Aftyr mete the cloth was drawe; Of here comynge, Rychard was fawe.    Aftyr mete they maden game; They begynne to speke insame. Quod kyng Richard: “Every man telle Hou he has don, hou hym befelle. Whoo has ben in most dystresse, And who has don the moste prowesse.” Quod Rychard: “I myself wan Sudan Turry, Of the folk hadde I no mercy. Alle tha that ther wore, I and myn hoost slowgh, And wunne therinne tresore inowgh; Crystene men therinne wone.” Thomas gan hys dedes mone: “And I wan Castel Orglyous; Maydyn and grome, hosebonde and spous, Myn hoost slowgh, and non ovyrhaf, Al the tresore that hem I gaf.” Thoo tolde Fouke Doyly: “And I wan the cyté of Ebedy, Gaynyd hem no mercy to crye: What scholde dogges doo but dye? Al the flok hoppyd hedeles! In this manere I made pes: Destroyyd alle hethene blood. To Crystene men al the good I gaf that I therinne fond, And stablyd it into Crystene hond.” Quod Phelyp: “And I dede nought soo, Taburet and Archane I wente too. The folk come of bothe cytees, Cryde mercy, and fylle on knees. For every hed I took raunsoun; They yolde to me every toun, And up thay sette my baner: We weren at on in this maner. To sloo men was me nevere leeff.”51    Kyng Richard took it to greff, And on hym gan to loke rowe: “Cursyd be he that thy werk alowe! Thou were weel wurthy mawgrý to have, Sarezynes that thou woldyst save! For to graunte hem lyf for mede, Thou dost God a gret falshede! Thou hast don us gret schame: Thou were wurthy to have blame! Alle swylke werkes I refuse, And thou, sere kyng, yif thou it use, Thou dedyst nought as I thee bad! Yif thou be eft in fyght bestad, Thou schalt fynde hem, everylkon, They schole ben thy moste foon. Yif thou haddyst hem alle slayn, Thenne myghtyst thou have ben fayn, And wunnen al the good therinne. Now is it eft newe to begynne, And that thyself now schalt sen.” Quod Phelyp: “I wole wende aghen For to prove yif it be soth. Whether the folk me gyle doth, Be aboute me to anoye, I schal hem brenne, sloo, and stroye! They schole nevere have grith!” Quod Richard: “Yif I wende thee with, The betere hap thee may betyde.” On morwen they begunne to ryde With here hoost to Taburet. The folk withinne the gatys schet; They callyd, “Phelyp, feynte coward! False wrehche, thou broke foreward! Thou gaf us lyf for raunsoun. Thee tydes no more of this toun Henne to the worldes ende!” Quod Kyng Rychard: “Phelyp, tak in mende I sayde thee soth — now may thou wete!” Anon hys baner doun they smete, And brak it up in gret despyt, Twoo peces brak it also tyt, And out into the dyke it throwen, And setten up on of here owen, And bad hym: “Now doo thy beste!” Quod Richard: “Frendes, haves no reste! This toun assayle we now swythe. Every man hys strengthe kythe On these dogges to ben wroken!”    Whenne kyng Richard thus hadde spoken, The Crystene men gunne make a scryke. Anon they wunne ovyr the dyke. The folk on the walles above To defende faste they prove, In al that they may and cunne.52 Stones and stokkes they threwen dounne; Summe of the Crystene they herte. For drede, archeres abak they sterte. The Sarezynys they gunne grete: Arwys, qwarellys, thykke they schete, And slowen that they ovyrtoke. Ovyr the walles durste no man loke. The Crystene the walles undyrmyn. Quod Richard: “I schal nevere syne Sytte on grounde, drynke, ne eeten, Tyl I have this toun igeten.” In the dyke the wal ovyrthrewe; The hoost wan in, and on hem hewe With swerdes, axes, and kene knyves, And slowen men, chyldren, and wyves. The hoost wolde no lengere be thare; Toward Archane gunne they fare. The folk of the toun the gatys schet, Kyng Phelyp out for to let, And sayden: “Coward, goo thy way! Here hast thou lost thy pray. Thou gaf us lyf for tresore: Of this toun tydes thee no more. Al at ones thy pay thou grepe; Here hast thou lost thy lordschepe. Thou art a fals, faynt wrehche! Hangyd be he that of thee rehche! Al that thou may doo us, thou doo!” For that they despysyd hym soo,53 Kyng Richard swoor and was agrevyd: “The Sarezynnes therinne that misbelevyd, Schal non of hem be savyd quykke!” Arwes, quarelles flowen thykke; The Crystene men the gates brente, They broke the walles, and in they wente. The Sarezynes fledden, awey gunne fyken, The Crystene folwen, slen, and styken, And gaf alle here folk here bane; Thus Kyng Phelyp wan Archane.    Quod Richard: “Phelyp, tak to thee The goodes of ayther cyté; Thus thou myghtyst have don or this. Certes, Phelyp, thou art nought wys. Thee be forgeven the fyrste gylt: Thou may bewar, yif that thou wylt. Now be we frendes bothe, But, sykyrly, we schole be wrothe, Swylke folyes, yif thou haunte, Sarezynys lyf, yif thou graunte. Bewar, though thou gold coveyte: In this land, do us no dysseyte! Yif thou be eft founden with gyle Wherethorwgh we fallen in peryle, Be thee chyld in oure lady barme, Goo schalt thou nought withouten harme! Of gold schalt thou have thy fylle!” He gan to moorne, and heeld hym stylle; He glouryd, and gan to syke, With Kyng Richard gan hym evyl lyke, For wordes he gan to hym deyl. Kyng Richard gan hym to counseyl: “Be trewe, doo as I thee teche. Goo we forth this cuntré to seche, To sloo oure foos and wynne the croys!” Kyng Phelyp withouten noys Sayde: “In me schal be no delay To helpe thertoo, that I may.” Kyng Richard and Phelyp with here hoost Wenten forth be the see coost. Ageynes hem comen here naveye, Cogges, drowmoundes, many galeye, Barges, schoutes, crayeres fele That were chargyd with all wele, With armure, and with othir vytaylle, That nothyng in the hoost scholde fayle.    It was before Seynt James tyde, Whenne foules begunne merye to chyde, Kynge Richard turnde his ost to pas Toward the cyté of Cayphas, Evere forth be the maryn, By the rever of Chalyn. Saladyn it herde telle And come flyngande aftyr snelle, With syxty thousand Sarezynes kene, And thoughte to doo Crystene men tene; And ovyrtooke the rerewarde, And begunne to bekyr harde. Hastely swerdes they drowen, And many a Crystene man they slowen. Unarmyd was the rerewarde, They fledde in haste to Kyng Richarde. Whenne Kyng Richard wyste this, The Sawdon slowgh hys men iwis, On Favel of Cypre he sat, falewe, Also swyft as ony swalewe. In this world at grete nede Was nevere founde a better stede. Hys baner anon was unfolde; The Sarezynes anon it gan beholde. Thoo that myght the baner see, Alle they gunne for to flee. Kyng Richard aftyr hem gan ryde, And they withturnyd hem that tyde, And smot togedere with swylke raundoun As yif al the world scholde fall doun. Kyng Richard before smot With hys ax that byttyrly boot He them tohewed and tocarfe: Manye undyr his hand gan sterve. Never was man in erthe ryght That better with hem gon fyght, And manye Crystene, I telle yow sekyr, Hente here deth in that bekyr Thorwgh a carte that was Hubertes Gawtyr, That was set al in a myr. For Saladynes sones theder came And the harneys them bename. The cartere les his hand ryght; There was slayn many a knyght. For the harneys kepyd fourty, And therof were islayn thrytty. Kyng Richard hyyd thedyr with thate;    Yet almoost he came to late! In honde he helde his axe good, Many Sarezyn he leet blood! Ther was non armure, varrayment, So good that myghte withstande his dent. And the Longe Spay that tyde, Layde on be every syde, That doun it wente al that he smot With hys fawchoun that byttyr bot; And the batayle was dotous, And to his folk wol perylous, For the hete was so strong, And the dust ros hem among, And forstoppyd the Crystene onde, That they fylle ded upon the sonde. Moo dyede for hete, at schorte wurdes, Thenne for dent of spere or swordes. Kyng Richard was al most ateynt, And in the pouder nygh adreynt. On hys knees he gan doun falle, Help to Jhesu he gan calle, For love of His modyr, Mary; And as I fynde in hys story, He seygh come Seynt George, the knyght, Upon a stede, good and lyght, In armes whyte as the flour With a croys of red colour. Al that he mette in that stounde, Horse and man he felde to grounde, And the wynd gan wexe lythe; Sterne strokes they gynne to kythe. Whenne Kyng Richard seygh that syght, In herte he was glad and lyght, And egyrly, withouen fayle, The Sarezynes he gan assayle. Bertram Braundys, the goode Lumbard, Robert Tourneham, and Kyng Richard, Alle that agayn hem gan dryve, Soone they refte hem of here lyve. The Sarezynes fledden to recet To the mount of Nazareth, withoute let. They were so hyyd at the spore, That mekyl of here folk was lore. Kyng Richard wente a gret pas Toward the cyté of Cayphas, And thankyd Jhesu, Kyng of glorye, And Marye, his modyr, of that victorie. Alle they maden gret solas For the wynnyng of Cayphas.    At morwen, kyng Richard leet crye Among hys hoost that they scholde hye Ever more forth be the maryn To the cyté of Palestyn. There here pavylouns they telte, And al to longe there they dwelte, For to abyde here vytayle That comen by watyr, saun fayle. Certes, that was the werste dwellyng That evere dwellyd Richard, oure kyng! That whyle the Sawdon Saladyn, Sente many a Sarezyn To bete adoun manye castelles, Cytees, tounes, and tourelles. Fyrst they bete doun the castele That was callyd Myrabele; And aftyr the castel Calaphyne That was ful of good engyne. Of Sessarye they fellyd the wal, And the tour of Arsour al. Jaffe castel they bete adoun, And the goode castel Touroun. Castel Pylgrym they felden there, And the goode castel La Fere; The castel of Seynt George Dereyn, They felde doun and made al pleyn, The walles they felde of Jerusalem, And eke the walles of Bedlem, Maydenes castel they lete stande, And the castel of Aukes land. Be that coost were no moo leten, But they were feld and doun beten; And this he dede withouten lette, For Richard scholde have no recette.    Whenne he hadde thus idoo, Kyng Richard he sente untoo, And seyde he wolde the nexte morwe Mete hym in the feld with sorwe, And with a launce to hym ryde, Yif that he durste hym abyde. Undyr the forest of Arsour, He wolde asaye hys valour. Kyng Richard made it nought towgh, But for that tydyng faste he lowgh, Hee leet crye in hys hoost In the name of the Holy Gost That they scholden, with vygour, That nyght reste before Arsour, And dyghten hem al redy than, At morwen to fyghte with the Sawdan. On Seynt Marye even, the natyvyté, This ylke bataylle scholde be. Many was the hethene man With Saladyn that come than: Of Inde, of Perse, of Babyloyne, Of Arabye and of Cessoyne, Of Aufryk and of Bogye, Of al the lond of Alysaundrye, Of grete Grece and of Tyre, And of many another empire; Of moo landes than ony can telle, Save He that made hevene and helle. That nyght was Kyng Richard before Arsour, Undyr the forest of Lysour. With hym ther were of Yngeland Wyse knyghtes, doughty of hand; Manye Frensche folk and Templers, Gascoynes and Hospytaleres, Of Provynce, a fayr cumpanye, Of Poyle and of Lumbardye, Of Gene, of Sesyle, and of Tuskayn; There was many a doughty man Of Ostrych and of Alemayn That weel cowde fyghte in the playn. Of Crystene knyghtes that were hende The fayreste hoost to the worldes ende. And ye schal here as it is wrete, Hou the batayle was ismete.    Saladyn come be a mountayn, And ovyrspradde hyl and playn, Syxty thousand sayde the spye, Was in the fyrste cumpanye, With longe speres on heye stedes. Of gold and asure were here wedes. Syxty thousynd comen aftyrward Of Sarezynes stoute and hard, With many a pensel of sykelatoun, And of sendel grene and broun, Almost come fyve and fyfty thousinde With Saladyn that comen behynde; They comen alle stylle nought fer behende, Here armure ferde al as it brende. Thre thousand Turkes comen at the laste, With bowe Turkeys and arweblaste. A thousand taboures and yit moo, Alle at ones they smeten thoo: Al the erthe donyd hem undyr. There myght men see a syghte of wundir.    Now speke we of Richard, oure kyng, Hou he com to batayle with hys gyng. He was armyd in splentes of steel, And sat upon his hors, Favel. Weel hym lovede baroun and knyght, For he cowde weel araye a fyght! The fyrste batayle to the Templeres He gaf, and to the Hospytaleres, And bad hem goo in Goddes name, The feend to schentschepe and to schame. Jakes Deneys and Jhon de Neles, Before they wenten in that pres. In this world thenne were there No betere knyghtes thenne they were. Forth they prekyd, as I fynde, With knyghtes fully twenty thousynde, And the Sarezynes they mette, With grymly launse they hem grette. Many Sarezyn hadden here fyn, And wenten to Mahoun and Appolyn; And tho that caughten deth of oure, Wenten to Cryst, oure Saveoure.    Jakes Deneys was a noble knyght; To slee paynymys he ded hys myght. He prekyd before his folk to rathe With hys twoo sones, and that was scathe, Thre thousand Turkes comen with boost, Betwen Jakes and hys hoost, That non help myghte come hym too, For no thynge that they cowde doo. Ne he ne myghte hym withdrawe, For the folk of hethene lawe. It was gret scathe, by Jhesu Cryste; Kyng Richard therof nought ne wyste, For he was yit al behynde To ordeyne othir twenty thousynde Thoo scholde the Duke of Burgoyne Lede, and the Eerl of Boloyne. These comen and deden here devers Agayn the hethene pawteners; And Jakes and hys sones twoo Almost weren islayn thoo. He layde on every syde ryght, And steryd hym as noble knyght. Twenty he slowgh, and ayther sone ten Of the vyle, hethene men. And nyne sethyn hys hors was felde, And evere he coveryd hym with his schelde. He had non help of Templere, Ne of non othir Hospytalere. Nevertheles doughtely he faught: The Sarazynes yet felde hym naught. He layde on with his sworde, And evere he sayde, “Jhesu, Lord, I schal dye for Thy love: Resseyve my soule to hevene above!” The Sarezynes layde on with mace And al tofrusschyd hym in the place, Hym and hys sones bothe; Therfore Kyng Richard was ful wrothe. Whenne Kyng Richard wyste this, That ded was Jakes Denys, “Allas!” he sayde, “that is wronge! Behynde I dwellyd al to longe!” He smot Favel with spores of golde, Sewe hym that sewe wolde! A launse in hys hand he heelde; He smot an amyral in the scheelde. The dynt smot thorwgh the hethene herte: I undyrstande it gan hym smerte! Kyng Richard hys honde withdrowgh: With that launse a kyng he slowgh. So he dede an amyrayle, And fyve dukes withouten fayle. With that ylke launse selve Kyng Richard slowgh kynges twelve. The thryttenethe to the chyn he kerff; The launse barste, the Sarezyn sterff. Hys ax on his fore arsoun hyng: Anon it took Richard, oure kyng. On he hytte on the schuldyr bon And karf hym to the sadyl anon! And of som he pared so the croune That helme and hed fel adoun! Non armure iwrought with hand Myghte Kyng Richardes ax withstande. Of my tale bes nought awundryd: The Frenssche says he slowgh an hundrid, Whereof is maad this Ynglyssche sawe, Or he reste hym ony thrawe. Hym folewyd many an Ynglyssche knyght, That egyrly halp hym for to fyght, And layden on as they were woode Tyl valeys runnen al on bloode. The Sarezynes sayden in here pavylouns, The Crystene ferden as wylde lyouns; And that Rycharde with theyr folke fares As hende grehoundes do with hares. Upon here steedes, manly they lepen; Swerdes and speres, manly the grepen. Manye man there slowgh othir; Many a Sarezyn loste there his brothir, And manye of the hethene houndes, With here teeth gnowgh on the groundes. Be the blood upon the gras, Men myghte see where Richard was! Brayn and blood he schadde inowgh; Many an hors hys guttes drowgh. There was a manye an empty sadyl, That it bewepte the chyld in the cradyl. He thoughte rescue Jakes Denayn, And ar he come, he was islayn. For he and hys sones anon Were tofrusschyd, flesch and bon. He ledde hym to hys pavyloun, In despyt of here god Mahoun. Thoo delte Richard on ylke a syde, The Sarezynes durste no lengere abyde. Syxe thousand and sevene score, At onys he drof hym before Up agayn an hygh cleve. They fledde as deer that hadde ben dreve; And for the drede of Kyng Richard, Off the clyff they fell dounward, And al tobarste, hors and men, That nevere non com to lyve than. That seygh the Sawdon, Saladyn: He was ful sekyr hys lyf to tyn. He lefte hys pavylouns and hys tente, And fledde away verramente. Whenne Kyng Richard seygh hym fleande, He sewyd aftyr, faste flyngande. To sloo the Sawdon was hys thought, But, for he myghte hym overtake nought, Of a footman a bowe he took, He drowgh an arwe up to the hook, And sente it to the Sawdon anon, And smot hym thorwgh schuldyr bon; Thus, the Sawdon with dolour, Fledde fro the batayle of Arsour. Syxty thousand there were slawe, Sarezynys of hethene lawe, And of Crystene but ten score: Blyssyd be Jhesu Cryst, therfore!    Kyng Richard took the pavylouns Of cendeles and of sykelatouns. They were schape of casteles, Of gold and sylvyr were the penseles. Manye were the noble geste Theron were wryten of wylde beste: Tygrys, dragouns, leouns, lupard, Al this wan the kyng Richard. Bounden coffres and grete males He hadde there withouten tales. Of tresore they hadde so mekyl wone, They wyste nowher where here goodes to done. Kyng Richard wente with honour, Into the cyté of Arsour, And rested hym there all nyght, And thanked Jhesu ful of myght. On the morowe Kynge Rycharde arose; Hys dedes were riche and his los. Of Naples he callyd Sere Gawter That was his maystyr Hospitaler. He bad hym take with hym knyghtes, Stronge in armes, stoute in fyghtes, And agayn to the feelde tee There the batayle hadde ibee, And lede Jakes, the noble baroun, Into Jerusalem toun, And berye his body there in erthe, For he was man that was wel werthe. Al was don withoute cheste, Hastyly Kyng Richardes heste. Thus, Kyng Richard wan Arsour, God graunte hys soule mekyl honour!    At morwen he sente to the kyng of Fraunce, And sayde to hym withoute bobaunce: “Wende we to Nynyvé That is a swythe strong cyté. For hadde we that toun iwunne, Thenne were oure game fayre begunne. Hadde we that and Massedoyne, We scholde wende to Babyloyne. Thenne myghte we safly ryde An hundryd myle by ylke a syde.” Richard and Phylyp in Arsour lay. A messanger thenne come to say That the Sarezynes wolde abyde And in batayle to hem ryde. In the pleyn Odok, sothe to seye, There they wele leve or deye. Kyng Richard hem answerid anon: “I schal yow telle, be Seynt Jhon! And I wiste what day it wore, I scholde mete with hym thore!” The messanger sayde, by his lay, That it scholde be on the sevenyght day. That tyme come, as he telde, The Sarezynes comen into the feelde With syxty thousand and weel moo. Kyng Richard come ageynes hem thoo. Hys hoost he delte in foure manere, As they sayde that ther were: Fouke Doyly be that on syde; Thomas be that othir to abyde, Kyng Phelyp, the thrydde part, And the forthe, Kynge Richard. Thus they besette hem withoute54 The Sarezynes that were bolde and stoute. In every hoost Crystene men, Sarezynes baners outputte then. The Sarezynes wenden thenne anon, They hadde ben Sarezynes, everylkon. Soone so Richard seygh this, That the Sarezynys hoost beclosyd is, His owne baner was soone arerde. Thenne were the Sarezynes sore aferde, And abaschyd hem in a thowe. The Crystene gan the baner to knowe, They smeten on in that stounde, And slowgh many an hethyn hounde. Kyng Richard upon Favel gan ryde, And slowgh dounryght on ylke a syde, And alle his folk dede alsoo, Alle foure hostes layden too, Many Sarezyn they schente. Allas, an hoost from hem wente; By the kyngys syde of Fraunce, The hoost passyd by a chaunce, Into Nynyvé agayn thoo; Therfore was kyng Richard woo. The Sarezynys that they founde thore, They yeden to dethe, lesse and more, The numbre that there to dethe yede, Fyftene thousand as I yow rede. Kyng Richard wente with his meyné Toward the cyté of Nynyvé. Kyng Phelyp wente hym by With a gret hoost, sykyrly, Tyl they come to Nynyvé, And tylde here pavylouns besyde the cyté. Kyng Richard on morwen whenne it was day, To armes he comaundyd alle that may, And hastyly, withoue pytee, To assayle that cyté With arweblast and with other gynne, Yif they myghte the cyté wynne. Alle the folk withouten chydyng, Deden Kyng Richardys byddyng. The gynours mangeneles bente, And stones to the cyté they sente. Harde stones in they threwe: The Sarezynes that wel knewe! Arweblast of vys with quarel, With staff slynges that smyte wel, With trepeiettes they slungen alsoo, That wroughte hem fol mekyl woo, And blew wylde fyr in trumpes of gynne, To mekyl sorewe to hem withinne.    Now seygh the Sarezynes, ylkone, That they scholde to deth gone. A messanger anon they sente; To Kyng Richard forth he wente. And prayed, yif hys wille be, Of batayle betwen thre. Three of hem, and three of hys, Whether of hem that wynne the prys And who that haves the heyere hand Have the cyté and al here land, And have it for evere more. Kyng Richard grauntyd hem thore, And bad hem come hastyly. The messanger wente in on hy, And sayde to the amyrayle, That Kyng Richard, withouten faylle, Weel armyd with spere and scheelde, Wolde mete hem in the feelde, And with hym othere twoo barouns, Noble men of gret renouns, For to fyghte with swylke three As ye wole sende of this cytee. Thenne on rabytes were they dyght,55 Three amyralles, bolde and wyght. Here names I schal yow telle anon, What they hyghten, everylkon.    Sere Archolyn in fyrst rod, Coudyrbras hovyd and abode, Sere Galabre hovyd stylle To see who wolde ryde hym tylle. Kyng Richard, the noble knyght, Agayn Sere Archolyn hym dyght. They smete togedere dyntys sare, He ne schal kevere nevere mare! And he gaf Richard a sory flat That foundryd bacynet and hat.56 Kyng Richard was agrevyd sore For the strok that he hadde thore. King Richard took his ax ful strong, And on the Sarezyn fast he dong On the helm above the crown: He clef hym to the sadyl arsoun. Hys lyf, for sothe, nought longe leste, For Kyng Richard was his preeste. Sere Cowderbras forth gan ryde; Sere Thomas thoughte hym to abyde. They reden togedere, as we rede, That bothe to the erthe they yede. Up they styrten in that stounde, And smeten togedere with grym wounde. They foughten ful sore with fawchouns kene; Strong batayle was hem bytwene. Cowderbras, for felonye, Smot Sere Thomas, withouten lye, On hys spawdeler of his scheelde, That it fleygh into the feelde. Thomas was agrevyd sore, And thoughte to anoye hym more. He took to hys mase of bras That fayleyd hym nevere in no cas, And gaf hym a sory wefe That his helme al toclefe. And al tobrosyd his herne panne; Kyd he was a doughty manne. Out of hys sadyl he hym glente, And with the rabyte forth he wente.    Sere Galabre hovyd stylle To see who wolde ryde hym tylle. He nyste whethir hym was most gayn57 For to fyghte or turne agayn. Sere Fouke Doyly weel it say: Loth hym were he scapyd away. To hym he prekyd upon a stede, Agayn hym that othir yede. With egyr ire togedere rode That eyther stede to grounde glode, And brak here nekkes in that stounde, That they lay ded upon the grounde. Here speres scheveryd in the feeldes, So eythir hytte othir in the scheeldes. Eyther gaf othir strokes felle: Dere they gunne here lyves selle.58    Galabre was stout and wyght, That Fouke ne myghte hym hytte nought ryght, But at the laste he gaf hym on That he brak his schuldre bon And hys on arme thertoo: Thenne was hys fyghtyng doo. On knees he fyl doun and cryde: “Creaunt, For Mahoun and Termagaunt!” But Sere Fouke wolde nought soo: The hed he smot the body froo. The lordynges of that cyté Agayn hem comen and fellen on kne, And the keyes with hem they broughte. Of mercy Kyng Richard besoughte: Yif he wolde save here lyff, They wolde be crystenyd, man and wyff, And wenden with hym, withouten fayle, In the brest of every bataylle, And of hym, holden that cyté. Kyng Richard grauntyd with herte free. A bysschop he leet come anon, And dede hem crystene, everylkon, Lytyl, mekyl, lasse and more, In that tyme crystynyd wore. Kyng Richard a whyle there lefte stylle; The comounners servyd hym at wylle. Of alle that he with hym broughte, Betere myghte thay serve hym noughte.    The chef Sawdon of Hethenysse To Babyloyne was flowen, iwisse. His counseyl he ofsente that tyme, There semblyd many a bold paynyme. Syxty thousand there were telde Of gylte spores in the feelde, Withouten footmen and putayle That ther come in to batayle. As he sayde that was the spye That tolde the folk on bothe partye, Twoo hundryd thousand of hethene men To batayle hadde the Sawden.    Lystnys lordes, yungge and olde, For His love that Judas solde. The men that love treweth and ryght, Evere he sendes hem strengthe and myght: That was there ful weel sene. Oure Crystene hoost, withoute wene, Was, as we in booke fynde, No more but foure score thousynde. Kyng Richard thrytty thousand ladde, For Phelyp and hys men were badde. Fyfty thousand hadde hee, By that on syde of that cytee That kepte withinne Sarezynes stoute: Was non so bold to passen oute, And Kyng Richard on that othir syde lay, On batayll redy every daye With mangenels and with spryngeles, With manye arewes and quarelles. Was no Sarezyn so stoute Ovyr the walles to loken oute. The cyté was so ful strong withinne, That no man myghte unto hem wynne. Oure stronge engynes, for the nones, Broken here walles with harde stones, Here gatys and here barbycan. Be ye sekyr, the hethene man Gaf the encountre hard and strong That manye a man was slayn among. For hadde Phelyp trewe bee At that sege of that cytee, Hadde ther non iscapyd than, Hethene kyng, ne Sawdan, That they ne hadde be slayn dounryght: For Kyng Richard ever upon the nyght, Whenne the sunne was gon to reste, With hys hoost he wolde be prest, Gaf the bataylle hard and smerte, That no paynym myghte withsterte, And slowgh hem doun gret plenté, And wylde fyr caste in to the cytee.    The Sarazynes defendyd hem faste With bowe Turkeys and arweblaste. Hard fyght was hem bytwene: So sayde thay that it sene. Quarellys, arwes, al so thykke flye As it were thondyr in the skye, And wylde fyr the folk to brenne. A counsayl took the hethene menne To fyghte with hem in the feelde: They wolde nought the cyté yelde. Of Kyng Richard myghte they nought spede To take trewes for no mede. “For no thyng,” sayde Richard than, “Tyl I have slawe the Sawdan, And brend that is in the cytee!” The latemere tho turnyd aghee To that other syde of the toun, And cryeden “Trewes!” with gret soun To the false kyng of Fraunce; And he hem grauntyd with a myschaunse For a porcyoun of golde.    Ellys hadde the toun ben yolde, And the Sarezynes islayn; But the Sowdan was full fayne, And alle here folk on Richard felle, For that othir syde was stylle. Kyng Richard wende that Phelip foughte, And he and hys men dede ryght noughte, But maden hem merye al that nyghte, And were traytours in that fyghte. He lovyd nought crownes for to crake, But doo tresoun and tresore take.    Tho Kyng Phelyp to Richard sende, Hou he myght him no lenger defende: For hungyr, he and his men alsoo Moste breke sege and goo. Woo was kyng Richard than And sayde, “Traytour, false man! For covaytyse of tresour He dos hymself gret dyshonour That he schal Sarezynys respyt gyve. It is harme that swylke men lyve!” He brekes sege and gynnes to withdrawe: Thenne were the Sarezynes wundyr fawe; Gret joye made hem among, Carollyd, trumpyd, and merye song.    The nexte day aftyr than, Messangeres comen fro the Sawdan, And grette Richard in fayr manere, And sayden: “Sere, yif thy wyl were, My lord, the Sawdon to thee sente, Yif thou wylt graunte in presente: Thou art strong in flesch and bones, And he doughty for the nones, Thou doost hym gret harme, he says, And destroyyst hys countrays, Slees hys men and eetes among. Al that thou werres, it is with wrong. Thou cravyst herytage in this lande, And he dos thee weel to undyrstande That thou hast thertoo no ryght! Thou sayst thy God is ful of myght: Wylt thou graunte with spere and scheelde, To deraye the ryght in the felde, With helme, hawberk, and brondes bryght, On stronge stedes, goode and lyght, Whether is of more power, Jhesu or Jubyter? And he sente thee to say this: Yif thou wylt have an hors of his? In all the landes there thou hast gon, Swylk on say thou nevere non! Fauvel of Cypre, ne Lyard of prys, Are nought at nede as that he is;59 And yif thou wylt, this selve day, It schal be brought thee to asay.” Quod kyng Richard: “Thou sayst weel! Swylke an hors, be Seynt Mychel, I wolde have to ryden upon, For myn are wery and forgon; And I schal, for my Lordes love, That syttes heyghe in hevene above, And hys owne hors be good, With a spere schede hys blood. Yif that he wole graunte and holde In this manere that thou hast tolde, As I moste, God my soule yelde, I schal hym meten in the feelde. Bydde hym sende that hors to me; I schal asaye what that he bee. Yif he be trusty, without fayle, I kepe non othir into batayle.”    The messanger thenne hom wente, And tolde the Sawdon in presente, Hou Kyng Richard wolde hym mete; The ryche Sawdon also skete, A noble clerk he sente fore then, A maystyr nigromacien. That conjuryd, as I yow telle, Thorwgh the feendes craft of helle, Twoo stronge feendes of the eyr In lyknesse of twoo stedes feyr, Lyke bothe of hewe and here. As thay sayde that were there, Nevere was ther sen non slyke. That on was a mere lyke, That other, a colt, a noble stede. Where he were in ony nede, Was nevere kyng ne knyght so bolde That whenne the dame neyghe wolde, Scholde hym holde agayn his wylle,60 That he ne wolde renne here tylle, And knele adoun and souke hys dame: That whyle the Sawdon with schame Scholde Kyng Richard soone aquelle.    Al thus an aungyl gan hym telle That come to hym aftyr mydnyght, And sayde: “Awake thou, Goddes knyght! My Lord dos thee to undyrstande That thee schal come an horse to hande. Fayre he is, of body pyghte, To betraye thee yif the Sawdon myghte. On hym to ryde have thou no drede: He schal thee helpe at thy nede. Purveye a tree, styf and strong, Though it be fourty foote long, And trusse it ovyrthwert his mane: Alle that he metes schal have his bane; With that tree he schal doun felle. It is a feend as I thee telle. Ryde upon hym in Goddes name, For he may doo thee no schame. Tak a brydyl,” the aungyl seyde, “And mak it fast upon hys hede, And be the brydyl in his mouth, Thou schalt turne hym north and south. He schal thee serve al to thy wylle, When the Sawdon rydes thee tylle. Have here a spere hed of steel: He has non armure iwrought soo weel That it ne wole perce be thou bolde!” But whenne he hadde thus itolde, Agayn to hevene he is wente.    At morwen hys hors was to hym sente. Kyng Richard of the horse was blythe, And dyghte hym a sadyl al soo swythe. Both his arsouns weren of yren, For they scholde be stronge and dyren. With a cheyne they gyrde hym faste.61 The brydyl upon his hed he caste As the aungyl hadde hym taught. Twoo goode hokes forgat he naught In hys arsoun he sette before. With wax he stoppyd his eeres thore, And sayde, “Be the aposteles twelve, Though thou be the devyl hym selve, Thou schalt me serve at this nede! He that on the Roode gan blede, And sufryd grymly woundes fyve, And siththen ros from deth to lyve, And boughte mankynde out of helle, And siththen the fendes pousté gan felle,62 And aftyr steygh up into hevene, Now God, for his names sevene, That is on God in trynité, In his name, I comaunde thee That thou serve me at wylle!” He schook his hed and stood ful stylle.    At morwe, as soone as it was lyght, And Kyng Richard was thus dyght, Syxe Sawdones with gret route Of the cytee comen oute, And batayllyd hem on a ryver. With brode scheeldes and helmes cler. That day was told, withoute lesynges, Of sawdons and of hethene kynges, An hondryd and yit wel moo, The leste brought with hym thoo Twenty thousand and yit ten. Agayn on of oure Crystene men, There were a doseyn, be the leste: As men myghten se in here foreste Of Sarezynes, so ferde the hoost: Weel a ten myle of a coost! They made scheltroun and batayle byde; Messangerys betwen gan ryde To Kynge Phelyp and to Kyng Richard, Yif they wolde holde foreward That they made the day before. The Sarezynes ful redy wore: Three hundryd thousand and moo ther bee. Kyng Richard lokyd and gan to see, As snowgh lygges on the mountaynes, Behelyd were hylles and playnes With hawberkes bryghte and helmes clere. Of trumpes and of tabourere, To here the noyse it was wundyr. As though the world above and undyr Sholde falle, so ferde the soun.    Oure Crystene men make hem boun. Kyng Richard hem no thyng ne dradde, To his men, “Has armes!” he gradde. And sayde, “Felawes, for love of the roode, Looke ye ben of coumfort good! And yif we gete the prys this day, Of hethenesse al the nobelay For evere more we have wunne. For He that made mone and sunne, Be oure help and oure myght! Beholdes hou my self schal fyghte With spere, swerd, ax of steel, But I this day note hem weel, Evermore fro henne forward Holdes me a feynt coward But every Crystene man and page, Have this nyght unto his wage An hed of a Sarezyn Thorwgh Goddes help and alsoo myn! Swylk werk I schal among hem make Of tho that I may ovyrtake, That fro this to domysday, They schole speke of my pay!”    Oure Crystene men ben armyd weel, Bothe in yryn and in steel. The kyng of Fraunce with his batayle Is redy the Sarezynes to asayle. Above the Sarezynes they ryden, And scheltroun pyghten and batayle abyden,63 And forstoppyd the lande wayes: They myghte nought flee into the cuntrayes, Ne no socour to hem come, But yif they were slayn or nome! The Frenssche gunne blowe bost and make To sloo Sarezynes and crownes crake, But in jeste as it is tolde, Non of hem was so bolde For to breke the Sarezynes scheltrome Tyl kyng Richard hym self come.    Now sewyd Richard with his hoost, And closyd hem in be anothir coost, Betwyxen hem and the cyté, That no Sarezyn myghte flee. Thenne hadde Richard hoostes three: That on gaf asawt to the cytee, The othere twoo with hym he ladde. To bryngen hym his hors he badde That the Sawdon hadde hym sent. He sayde, “With hys owne present I schal hym mete longe or nyght.” To lepe to horse tho was he dyght; Into the sadyl or he leep, Of manye thynges he took keep. Hym lakkyd nought but he it hadde; Hys men hym broughte al that he badde. A quarry tree of fourty foote, Before his sadyl anon dede hote Faste that men scholde it brase, That it fayleyd for no case: So they dede with hookes of yren And good rynges that wolde duren. Other festnynge non ther was Then yryne cheynes for alle cas, And they were iwrought ful weel. Bothe in gerthes and in peytrel, A queyntyse of the kynges owen, Upon hys horse was ithrowen. Before hys arsoun, his ax of steel, By that other syde, his masuel. Hymself was richely begoo From the crest unto the too. He was armyd wondyr weel, And al with plates of good steel, And ther above an hawberk; A schaft wrought of trusty werk; On hys schuldre a scheeld of steel With three lupardes wrought ful weel. An helme he hadde of ryche entayle; Trysty and trewe his ventayle. On his crest a douve whyte, Sygnificacyoun of the Holy Speryte. Upon a croys the douve stood, Of gold wrought riche and good. God hymself, Marye, and Jhon, As he was nayleyd the roode upon, In signe of hym for whom he faught. The spere hed forgat he naught: Upon his spere he wolde it have, Goddes hyghe name theron was grave.    Now herkenes what oth they swore Ar they to the batayle wore. Yif it were soo that Richard myghte Sloo the Sawdon in feeld with fyghte, Hee and alle hese scholde gon At here wylle everylkon Into the cyté of Babyloyne And the kyngdome of Massedoyne He scholde have undyr his hand; And yif the Sawdon of that land Myghte sloo Richard in that feeld, With sweerd or spere undyr scheeld, That Crystene men scholden goo Out of that land for everemoo, And Sarezynes haven here wylle in wolde. Quod Kyng Richard: “Therto, I holde, Thertoo, my glove, as I am knyght!”    They ben armyd and weel adyght; Kyng Richard into the sadyl leep. Whoo that wolde therof took keep, To se that syghte was ful fayr. The stedes ran ryght with gret ayr, Al so harde as they myghte dure. Aftyr here feet sprong the fure. Tabours beten and trumpes blowe. There myghte men see in a throwe How Kyng Richard, the noble man, Encountryd with the Sawdan, That cheef was told of Damas. Hys trust upon his mere was. Therfore, as the book telles, Hys crouper heeng al ful of belles And hys peytrel and his arsoun: Three myle myghten men here the soun! The mere gan nyghe, here belles to ryng, For gret pryde, withouten lesyng. A brod fawchoun to hym he bar; For he thoughte that he wolde thar Have slayn Kyng Richard with tresoun Whenne his horse hadde knelyd doun As a colt that scholde souke; And he was war of that pouke. Hys eeres with wex were stoppyd faste, Therfore was Richard nought agaste. He strok the feend that undyr hym yede, And gaf the Sawdon a dynt of dede. In hys blasoun, verrayment, Was ipayntyd a serpent. With the spere that Richard heeld, He bar hym thorwgh undyr the scheeld.64 None of hys armes myghte laste: Brydyl and paytrel al tobraste; Hys gerth and hys styropes alsoo; The mere to the grounde gan goo. Mawgrý hym, he garte hym stoupe65 Bakward ovyr his meres croupe, His feet toward the fyrmamente; Behynde the Sawdon the spere outwente. He leet hym lye upon the grene. He smote the feend with spores kene; In the name of the Holy Gost, He dryves into the hethene hoost, And also soone as he was come, He brak asyndry the scheltrome. For al that evere before hym stode,66 Horse and man to erthe yode, Twenty foote on every syde. Whom that he overraughte that tyde, Of lyf ne was here waraunt non! Thorwghout he made hys hors to gon. As bees swarmen in the hyves, Crystene men in aftyr dryves, Stryke thorwgh that doun they lygges, Thorwgh the myddyl and the rygges.    Whenne they of Fraunce wysten That the maystry hadde the Crysten, They were bolde, here herte they took, Stedes prekyd, schaftes schook. The Kyng Phelyp with a spere, An hethene kyng gan doun bere; And othere eerles and barouns, Stronge men of grete renouns, Slowen the Sarezynes dounryght. Of Yngelond, many a noble knyght Wroughte weel there that day. Of Salysbury, that Longespay To grounde he feelde with his brond Alle that he before hym fond. Next Kyng Richard evere he was, And the noble baroun, Sere Thomas, Fouk Doyly, Robert Leycetre: In Crystenedom, ther were non betre. Where that ony of hem come, They sparyd neyther lord ne grome, That they ne dreven alle adoun. That Sarezynes that weren withinne the toun, For gret sorwe that they sen, They wepte with bothe here eyen, And “Mercy!” lowde thenne they cryde. They wolden kaste up the gates wyde, And lete hem at here wyl in come.    The Crystene have the cyté nome. Anon hastely withalle, They setten baners upon the walle, The kynges armes of Yngelande. Whenne Saladyn gan undyrstande That the cyté yolden was, He gan to crye, “Allas, allas! The prys of hethenesse is done,67 And gan to flee also soone, And fayn alle thoo that myghte. And Kyng Richard, that noble knyghte, Whenne he seygh the Sawdon fleygh, “Abyde, coward!” he cryede on heygh, “And I schal thee proven fals, And thy cursede goddes als.” Kyng Richard dryves aftyr fast; The Sawdon was ful sore agast. A gret wode before hym he sees, Thedyr in wol faste he flees. Kyng Richard neyghyd the wode nere, He doutyd for encumbrere: He myghte nought in for his tree. His horse agayn soone tournyd hee And mette with an hethene kyng. He took his ax out of the ryng, And hytte hym on hygh upon the crest And clef hym doun unto the brest. Anothir he raughte upon the scheeld That helme and hed fleygh into the feeld Syxe he slowgh of hethene kynges, To telle the sothe in alle thynges.    In the jeste, as we fynde, That moo than syxty thousynde Of empty stedes aboute yede, Up to the feetlakkes in the bloode, Astray they yeden with grete pride; The man that wolde myght ryde. The batayle laste tyl it was nyght, But whenne thay weren islayn dounryght The Sarezynes that they myghte ovyrtake, Gret joye gan the Crystene make, Knelyd and thankyd God of hevene, Wurschepyd hym and hys names sevene. On bothe sydes were folk slawe. The numbre of the Crystene lawe That lay ded in the feelde, To God they gunne the soules yelde: There were slawen hundredes three; Of Sarezynes was ther more plenté, Syxty thousand and yit moo. Loo, swylke grace God sente thoo!    The Crystene to the cyté gon; Of gold and sylvyr and precyous ston, They founde inowgh, withouten fayle, Mete and drynk and othir vytayle. At morwen whenne Kyng Richard aros, Hys dedes were noble, and his los. Sarezynes before hym came, And askyd hym Crystyndame. There were crystenyd, as I fynde, More than fourty thousynde. Kyrkes they maden of Crystene lawe, And here Mawmettes leet doun drawe.68 And that wolden nought Crystene become, Richard leet slen hem, alle and some. They departyd the grete tresour Among the Crystene with honour, Erl, baroun, knyght, and knave, As mekyl as they wolde have.    There they sojournyd fourtene nyght. On a day they have hem dyght: Toward Jerusalem gunne they ryde. Kyng Phelyp spak a wurd of pryde: “Kyng Richard, lystene to me, Jerusalem, that ryche cyté, Though thou it wynne, it schal be myn.” “Be God,” quod Richard, “and Seynt Austyn, And as God doo my soule boote, Of my wynnyng noghte half a foote Thou ne schalt have of no lande! I doo thee weel to undyrstande! And yif thou wylt have it,” he seyde then, “Goo and gete it with thy men! Myn offeryng,” quod Richard, “loo it here, I wyl come the cyté no nere!” An arweblast of vys he bente, A floryng to the cyté he sente That was in signifyaunce Of Jhesu Crystys honouraunce.    For yre become syke the kyng of Fraunce; The leche sayde withouten dotaunce, That he myghte nought hool ben But he to Fraunce wolde tourne ayen. The kyng hys counsayl undyrstood And sayd it was trewe and good. His schyppes he leet dyghte, more and lesse, And wente home at Alhalewe-messe. King Richard on hym gan crye, And sayde he dede gret velonye To wende hom for maladye Out of the lond of Surrye To don were Goddes servyse, For lyf or deth in ony wyse. The kyng of Fraunce wolde hym nought here, But departyd in this manere; And aftyr that partyng, for sothe, Evere yit they were wrothe.    Kyng Richard withouten bost, To Jaffe wente with his hoost. The kynges pavyloun fair and fyne, He leete tylde in on gardyn. Othere lordes gan aboute sprede, Here pavyloun in a fayr mede. Kyng Richard with hys meyné alle, Of the cyté leet make the walle, That nevere was non in Sarezyneys So strong wrought and of gret ryhcheys. That castel was strong and ryche, In the world was non it lyche. Theder myght come by the see, Of every good gret plenté. He made here warde of noble knyghtes, Stoute in armes, stronge in fyghtes. Inowe men myghte wende aboute, Manye mile withouten doute. Kyng Richard dwellyd with honure Tyl that Jaffe was maad al sure.    Fro thennes to Chaloyn they wente, And fond the walles al torente. Large and fayr was that cyté: Kyng Richard therof hadde pyté. He besoughte the lordes alle, Of the cyté to make the walle; And the lordes, everylkon, Grauntyd hym hys askyng anon, Save the Duke of Ostryke: Kyng Richard he thoughte to beswyke. Kyng Richard gan to travayle Aboute the walles, saunfayle, So they dede, on and othir. Fadyr and sone, eme and brothir Made morter and layde ston With here myght, everylkon. Every kyng and emperere, Bare stones or mortere, Save the duke; ful of prede, He ne wolde hem helpe for no nede.    On a day, Kyng Richard hym mette, And hendely the kyng hym grette, And bad hym, for hys curteysye, Make of the walles hys partye; And he answeryd in this manere: “My fadyr nas masoun ne carpentere, And though youre walles scholde al toschake, I schal nevere helpe hem to make!” Kyng Richard pykkyd gret errour; Wraththe dede hym chaunge colour. The duke with hys foot he smot Agayn the brest, God it wot, That on a ston he ovyrthrewe. It was evyl don, be Seynt Mathewe! “Fy! a debles, vyle coward! In helle be thou hangyd hard! Goo quykly out of oure hoost! Curs hast thou of the Holy Goost! By the sydes of swete Jhesus, Fynde I thee, traytour among us, Ovyr this ylke dayes thre, My self schal thy bane bee. Traytour, we travayle day and nyght, In werre, in wakyng, and in fyght, And thou lys as a vyl glotoun, And restes in thy pavyloun, And drynkes the wyn, good and strong, And slepes al the nyght long. I schal breke thy banere And slynge it into the revere!” Home wente the duke ful wroth, Hys owne lyf hym wax loth. Of that despyte, he was unblythe And trussyd hys harneys al so swythe, And swor by Jhesu in Trynyté, And he myghte evere his tyme see, Of Richard scholde he be so awreke That al the world scholde therof speke. He heeld hym al to weel foreward: In helle moot he be hangyd hard! For thorwgh hys tresoun and trehcherye, And thorwgh the waytyng of hys aspye, Kyng Richard he dede gret schame That turnyd al Yngelond to grame. A lytyl lengere hadde he most Have levyd, for the Holy Gost, Ovyr kyng, duke, and emperour, He hadde be lord and conquerour. Al Crystyanté and al Paynym Scholde have holden undyr hym.    The Duke of Ostrych hyyd hym faste Away with his meyné in haste. With hym the duke of Burgoyne, The folk of Fraunce and the eerl of Boloyne. Kyng Richard brak the dukes baner, And keste it into the rever, And cryyd on hym with voys ful stepe, “Home, schrewe! Coward! and slepe! Come no more in no wyse, Nevere eft in Goddes servyse!” The duke awey prekyd thenne. For yre his herte began to brenne. Kyng Richard lefte with hys Englys, Tuskaynes, Lumbardes, Gascoynes, iwis, Scottes, Yrysch, folk of Bretayne, Gennayes, Bascles, and of Spayne, And made the wal day and nyght Tyl it were maad strong, aplyght.    Than Kynge Rycharde with grete pyne Had made the walles of Chalyne, All his hoost with hym he taas, And wente forth a grete paas. The fyrst nyght in the name of Marye, He laye at a towne that hyght Famelye. On the morowe he let hym arme wele Bothe in yryn and in steel; Be the maryn forth he wente To Albary, a castel gente That was a castel of Sarezynesse Ful of stor and gret ryhchesse: Bothe fat flesch and lene, Whete and ooten, pesen and bene. Kyng Richard it wan, and sojournyd there Thre monethis al plenere; And sente spyes every wayes For to aspye the cuntrayes.    Of castel Daroun, Kyng Richard herde Al togedere hou it ferde. Al was it ful of Sarezynes That were Goddes wytherwynes. Kyng Richard hyyd thedyr faste, The Sarezynes for to make agaste. So longe he wente by hys journay, He come thedyr be Seynt James day. He besegyd castel Daroun To take the castel and the toun. The castel was maad of swylke ston That they doutyd sawt ryght non. Aboute the castel was a dyke: They hadde nevere isen non slyke The Sarezynes cryyd in here langage: “Crystene houndes of evyl rage! But ye wenden swythe home, Here have ye fet youre dome!” Whenne Kyng Richard herde that cry, He swor hys oth be Seynte Mary, The Sarezynes scholde be hangyd alle, Or swylke a cas hem scholde befalle. The Crystene asaylyd and they defendyd: Many quarel out they sendyd. Al that day and al that nyght, They and the Crystene heeld the fyght. The Crystene sen thay myghte nought spede; Kyng Richard took an othir rede. Kyng Richard garte alle the Englys, Schere ryssthys in the marys To fylle the dykes of Daroun, To take the castel and the toun. Twoo grete gynnes for the nones, Kynge Richard sente for to caste stones. By water they were ibrought anon; The mate gryffoun was that on That was set upon an hel To breke doun tour and castel. That othir hyghte Robynet, That on an othir hyl was set. Kyng Richard keste a mangenel That threw to an other tourel. Kyng Richard dede the ryssches faste Bynden, and into the dyke caste, And al playne the dykes made. The Sarezynes therof hadde no drade, For wylde fyr theron they caste, The ryssches be comen on fyre in haste, And brenden ryght to the grounde, Ryght withinne a lytyl stounde. Of oure Crystene, many an hundryd Were therof gretly awundryd. The mangeneles threw alway, And brak the walles nyght and day. The robynet and the mate gryffoun, Al that they hytte wente adoun, So that withinne a lytyl stounde, The outemeste wal was layde to grounde, And fyllyd ful the grete dyke, And oure men entryd hastelyke. Tho oure Crystene men myghten wel Entren into Dareyn Castel. The eerl of Leyceterre, Sere Roberd, The treweste knyght in myddylerd, He was the fyrste, withoute fayle, That Daroun Castel gan assayle. Up he lyfte hys banere, And smot upon hys destrere.    The Sarezynes, with mysaventoure, Fledde up into the heyeste toure; And manye of hem stoden withoute, And foughten faste in gret doute. Agayn the Eerl, Sere Robard, They gave many a dynt ful hard. Many an helme was there ofwevyd, And many a bacynet was clevede. Scheeldes fele schorn in twoo; Many stede stekyd alsoo. Robert Tourneham with hys fawchoun, There he crakyd many a croun. The Longespay, the Eerl of Rychemeound, Wolde spare non hethene hound. Among hem come Kyng Richarde, To fyghte weel no thyng he sparde. Many on in a lytyl stounde With his ax he felde to grounde. Al on foote he gan fyghte. Whenne the Sarezynes hadden syghte Hou plenteuous was hys payment, Non there durste abyde hys dent. They wenten quyk, withoute fable, And slowe here stedes in here stable, The fayreste destreres and stedes, That myght bere knyght in ony nedes. Whete and flour, flesche and lardere, Al togedere they sette on fere. They hadden levere to don soo Thenne with here vytaylles helpe here foo. By the brethe Richard aspyde, And slowgh dounright on ylke a syde Alle that he myghte ovyrtake, None amendes must they make. He gunne asayle the heye tour With wyghte men of gret valour. The Sarezynnes in the tour on hygh, Seygh here endynge day was nygh. Wylde fyr swythe in haste Among the Crystene men they caste. That fyr fleygh aboute so smerte That manye Crystene men it herte. They myghte nought longe suffre that thrawe; Anon they gunnen hem withdrawe A myle fro Daroun Castel. They caste abrode many fyr-barel,69 Soone withinne a lytyl spase, Thorwgh the help of Goddes grace, The castel become on afyr al Fro the tour to the outemeste wal. Here houses brende and here hurdys, Gret smoke ther arose, iwis.    The Sarezynes in the heyghe tour Were in swyche strong dolour. In the hete, they were almost ateynt, And in the smoke, nygh adreynt. Ten ther cryd at on word: “Mercy, Kyng Richard, leve lord! Let us goo out of this tour, And thou schalt have gret tresour! With lyf and leme thou lete us goo, A thousand pound we geve thee too.” “Nay!” quod Richard, “Be Jhesu Cryst, By hys deth and hys upryst, Ye schole nevere come adoun Tyl payed be youre raunsoun, And yit her aftyr be at my wylle, Whether I wole yow save or spylle, Or elles ye schole here ryght sterve.” “Lord,” they sayde, “we schole thee serve. At thy wylle with us thou doo, With that we may come thee too. To honge or drawe, brenne or sle Our fredome, lorde, is in thee.” Kynge Richard grauntyd than, And comaundyd every Crystene man Lete the Sarezynys to borwe70 Tyl the sunne ros on morwe. It was so don, as I fynde. Kynge Rycharde let them faste bynde, Upon a playn besyde the walle, Kyng Richard bad lat brynge hem alle; And he that payde a thousand pound For hys hed myghte goo sound. And that wolde so mekyl geve Tyl a certayn tyme, he leet hem leve; And he that payde no raunsoun, Als tyt the hed was stryken doun; And thus Kyng Richard wan Daroun. God geve us alle hys benysoun!    Aftyr the wynnyng of Daroun, Kyng Richard wente to another toun, To Gatrys with fayr meyné To besege that cyté. Now herkenes hou he it wan, And ye shall here of a doughty man, A stout werreour and a queynte And nevere founden in herte feynte. He that was lord of Gatris Hadde ben a man of mekyl prys, And fel to fyght ageyns hys foo; But that ylke tyme he was nought soo, For he was fallen into elde, That he myghte non armes welde. But as he dede a fayr queyntyse, Herkenes now al in what wyse! In myddes the toun upon a stage, He leet make a marbyl ymage, And corownyd hym as a kyng, And bad his folk, olde and ying, That they scholde nevere be aknowe To Crystene man, hygh ne lowe, That they hadde no lord of dygnyté But that ymage in that cyté.    Kyng Richard, the werreour kene, There assaute he began bydene. Anon, his mangeneles were bente, And stones to the cyté he sente. The Sarezynes “Mercy!” cryede: They wolde kaste up the gates wyde, Yif it were Richardes wylle That he wolde nought here peple spylle. Kyng Richard grauntyd, withoute les, And they hadde entré al in pes. Kyng Richard askyd at a word Of that cyté where was the lord, And they answerde to the kyng That they hadde non othir lordyng But that ymage of marbyl fyn, And Mahoun, here god, and Appolyn. Kynge Rycharde stode, so sayth the boke, And on the ymage he gan for to loke, How hewge he was wrought and sterne, And sayd to them all yerne: “O, Sarezynes,” sayde Richard, withouten fayle, “Of youre lord I have mervayle! Yif I may, thorwgh my Lord so goode, That boughte us alle upon the rode, With a schaft breke his nekke asundir, And ye may see that grete wundyr. Wole ye leve alle upon my Lord?” “Ye!” thay sayden at on word. Kyng Richard leet dyghte hym a schaft Of trusty tree and kynde craft; And for it scholde be stronge and laste, He leet bynde thertoo ful faste, Foure yerdes of steel and yre; And Kyng Richard, the grete syre, Leet sette theron a corounnal kene. Whenne it was redy on tosene, Fauvel of Cypre was forth fette; And in the sadyl he hym sette. He rode the cours to the stage, And in the face he smot the ymage. That the hede flowe fro the body insundyr, And slowgh fyve Sarezynes therundyr. Alle the othere seyde than He was an aungyl and no man; And alle becomen Crystene thore, Olde and ying, lesse and more, And hastely, withouten lessyng, Here olde lord they leet forth bryng And tolde hys compassement. Kyng Richard lowgh with good entent, And gaf hym the cyté with wynne to welde, Though he levyd Adammis elde.    To Chaloyn Kyng Richard wente agayn, Al be the maryn, soth to sayn. There he sojournyd fourtenyght With many a noble and doughty knyght. They pyght pavylyons fayre and well To besege a strong castel That was a lytyl besyde hym, Thre myle fro Castel Pylgrym, With thykke walles and toures of pryde, That was callyd Lefruyde. The Sarezynes seygh the kyng come, Weel they wende to be benome. Theyr hertes were full of wo All by nyght awaye they flo The gates they unschette ful yerne, And fledden awey by a posterne. For al this wyde myddyl erde, Durste they nought abyde Kyng Richerde. The noble castel, verrayment, Kyng Richard wan withoute dent. Fro thennes he wente to Gybelyn; Ther the Hospytaleres hadde wonyd in, And Templeres bothe in fere, And kepten the cyté many a yere. Whenne Bawdewyn was slayn with bronde, Saladyn took that toun on honde. In that cyté was Seynt Anne ibore, That Oure Lady was of core. There they pyghte here pavyloun, And with gret fors they wunne the toun. And slowgh the Sarezynes all insame That wolde nought leve in Crysteys name.    Thenne ther come most wykke tydyng, To Quer de Lyoun, Richard, oure kyng: Hou of Yngelond hys brothir Jhon, That was the fendes flesshe and bon, Thorwgh help of the barouns some, The chaunceler they hadde inome, And wolde with maystry of hand, Be corownyd kyng in Yngeland At Estyr day aftyrward. Thenne answerde Kyng Richard: “What devyl!” he sayde, “Hou gos this? Telles Jhon of me no more prys,71 He wenes that I wil nought leve longe; Therfore, he wyl doo me wronge, And yif he wende I were on lyve, He wolde nought with me stryve. I wole me of hym so bewreke,72 That al the world therof schal speke! And Jhon hym corowne at Estyr-tyde, Where wole he thenne me abyde? There is no kyng in Crystyanté, Sertys, that schal his waraunt bee. I ne may leve it for no nede That Jhon, my brother, wil do this dede.” “Yis, certes,” quod the messangere, He wyl do soo, be Seynt Rychere.”    Kyng Richard al this tydyng In herte heeld but as lesyng. Fro Gybelyn forth thenne he wente, To Bethanye, a castel gente. And slowgh there many an hethene man, And the noble cyté wan. Ther come othere messangers That tolde Kyng Richard, stout and fers, That Jhon, hys brothir, wolde bere Corowne at Estren, he wolde swere. Richard was loth withdrawe his hand Tyl he hadde wunne the Holy Land, And slayn the sawdon with dynt of sword, And avengyd Jhesu, oure Lord; But he bethoughte hym aftyr then, That he wolde leve there alle his men, And with hys prevy meyné Into Yngelond thenne wolde hee, And asesse the werre anon, Betwyxe hym and hys borther Jhon, And come agayn in hyyng, To fulfylle hys begynnyng.    And as he thoughte in hys herte, A stout Sarezyn gan in sterte That oughte Kyng Richard raunsoun For the wynnyng of Daroun. He spak to the kyng apertelyche, Among the peple, pore and ryche: “Sere, thou schalt aquyte me here,73 And alle oure other hostagere: Thorwgh my queyntyse and my gynne, I schal doo thee gret tresore wynne. More then an hundryd thousand pounde Of floryns, both rede and sounde, Of Saladynes cheef tresore, And mekyl ryhchesse of here store. Therto I laye in hostage my lyff, And my chyldre and my wyff: But yif I doo thee to wynne that preye, On evele deth do me to deye!” Quod Richard: “Thou myscreaunt, So as thou bylevest on Termagaunt, Tel me now what folk it is, I wene it is but al feyntys.” “Thoo that lede the tresore, saunt fayle, Sere, they are thre thousand chamayle, And fyve hundryd ther are alsoo Of asses and mules, and yit moo That leden gold to Saladyn, Tryyd sylvyr, and tresore fyn, Flour of whete and spysory, Clothis of sylk and gold therby.” Sayde Kyng Richard: “So God thee deme, Is ther mekyl peple the tresore to yeme?” “Yé, Sere,” he sayde, “ther are before Knyghtes rydande syxty score, And aftyrward, thousandes ten Of swythe stronge, hethene men. I herde hem speke in rownyng, They were aferyd of thee, Sere Kyng.” Quod Kyng Richard: “They schal it fynde, Thowgh ther were syxty thousynde, And I were but myself alone, I wolde mete hem, everylkone. Doo now, say me anon ryght, Where may I fynde hem this nyght?” The Sarezyn sayde: “I thee telle Where thou wylt abyde and dwelle. Here be southe, mylys ten, Thou may fynde the hethene men. There they wole resten and abyde Tyl more folk come ther ryde.” The kyng hym graythid, and wente anon, Hys barouns aftyr, everylkon. Al that nyght with fayr covey They rede forth by the wey. Thenne sayde the spye to the kyng: “Sere, make here thy restyng. They are loggyd in this toun: I wyl goo and aspye ther roun. Anon, I wole to hem goo, And brewe hem a drynk of woo, And saye to hem that Kyng Richard Is at Jaffe to Yngeland ward. They wole leve me with the beste, Thenne wole they gon to reste. Thenne may thou to hem wende, And slou hem alle faste slepende. “Fy a debles,” quod the kyng, “God geve thee now an evyl endyng! I am no traytour, tak thou kepe, To sloo men whyl they slepe; And ryght now here I wole abyde, Tyl I see the Sarezynes come ryde. Be cleer day upon the feeldes, They schole see cloven helmes and scheldes. Be they dukes, prynces, or kynges, Here schole they make here endynges.” The Sarezyn the kyng answerde: “Thy pere is nought in myddyl erde, Ne non so mekyl of renoun. Weel may thou hote Coer de Lyoun! Therfore, I wole it nought hele, Ther are of Sarezynes twoo so fele As thou hast folk in this cuntree, Certaynly, I telle thee.” Quod kyng Richard: “God geve thee care! Therfore is nought myn herte sare; For on of my Crystene men Is wurth Sarezynes nyne or ten. The moo ther be, the moo I schal sloo, And wreke Jhesu of hys foo.” Forth wente the spye with then To aspye the hethene men. Al he spyyd here compassyng plotting And tolde it Richard, oure kyng. He gan crye, “Az armes, yare! Coer de Lyoun! Loo now they fare!” Anon leep Kyng Richard Upon hys goode stede, Lyard; And hys Ynglyssch and his Templers Lyghtly lopen on here destrers, And flynges into the hethene hoost, In the name of the Holy Goost.    As the Sarezynes with here nobelay To the Sawdon were in here way, Kyng Richard smot hem among; There aros no blysseful song, But to Termagaunt and Mahoun They cryede faste, and to Plotoun. Kyng Richard a kyng gan bere Thorwgh the herte with a spere. Aftyrward hys ax he drowgh, And many an hethyn hound he slowgh. Some he clevyd into the sadyl: It bewepte the chyld al in the cradyl. A kyng he clef unto the arsoun, That hym halp nought hys God, Mahoun. Many an hethene Sarezyne He sente there to helle pyne. The Templers and the Hospytalers Wunne there manye fayre destrers. So longe they foughte, so says the story, That Kyng Richard hadde the vyctory Thorwgh help of hys gode knyghtys, Stoute in armes and stronge in fyghgtes; And manye scapyd with dedly wounde, That ne levyd nought no stounde. They wolde aftyr no more mete Kyng Richard be wey ne strete.    Now may ye here the wynnyng That ther wan Richard, oure kyng. Hors of prys and gret camayle, Fyve hundryd and ten, saun fayle. Syxe hundryd hors of grete coursours Chargyd al with riche tresours, That were in cofres bounden ferlye, With fyn sylvyr and gold ful trye. Ther were thre hundryd mules and moo That penyys and spyses boren thoo. Ther aftyr fyftene hyndryd asse Bar wyn and oyle, more and lasse. And als manye with whete brede. It was to Richard a gracyous dede! When he al this tresore wan, Home he wente to hys men than, Into the cyté off Bethany the noble, With that tresore and the moble. He gaf the ryche and the lowe Of his purchas good inowe. He gaf hem destrers and coursours, And delte among hem his tresours. So Richard partyd hys purchas, Of al Crystyndom belovyd he was.    Theraftyr, in a lytyl stounde, Comen messaungerys of mekyl mounde: The Bysschop of Chestyr was that on, That othir, the abbot of Seynt Albon, That brought hym lettres speciele, Aselyd with the barouns sele, That tolde hym his brothir, Jhon, Wolde doo corowne hym anon, At the Pask, be comen dome, But he the rathir wolde come home,74 For the kyng of Fraunce with envye Hath aryvyd in Normandye.    Quod Kyng Richard: “Be Goddes payne, The devyl has to mekyl mayne! Al here bost and here deray, They schal abeye it sum day!” And there he dwellyd tyl Halewemes, And thenne he passyd to Jaffes. For sevene yer and yit more, The castel he gan astore. Fyftene thousand, I fynde in boke, He lefte that cyté for to loke, For to kepe weel that land Out of Saladynys hand Tyl he agayn come myghte Frome Yngelond, as he had tyghte; And thenne he wente to Acres ward, The doughty body, Kyng Richard.    Now of Saladyn speke we, What dool he made and pyté, Whenne he wyste of that caas, That hys tresore robbyd was, And for hys men that were slawe, He waryyd hys god, and cursyd his lawe, And swor he wolde awroken be, Myghte he evere hys tyme isee. Soo that tyme a spye come in, And sayde thus to Saladyn: “Lord,” he sayde, “be blythe of mode. For I thee brynge tydynges goode, To thyn herte a blythe present. Kyng Richard is to Acres went: For ovyr he wole to Yngelonde. For hym is come swylke a sonde That Jhon, hys brother, I thee swere, Wole elles hys corowne bere. Jaffes he hath stored a ryght, With many a baroun and gentyl knyght. Fyftene thousand, I wot ful weel, Schal kepen wel that castel. Yif he may so weel spede, Tyl he come from his thede. But see, Lord, withouten fayle, Fro his body kyttes the tayle.”75 Ofte was Saladyn wel and woo, But nevere soo glad as he was thoo. The spye he gaf an hundrid besauntes That broughte hym that presauntes, And also a fayr destrere, And a robe ifurryd with blaundenere. Thenne wolde he no lengere abyde; He sente aboute on ylke a syde, Upon leyme and upon lyff, Upon chyldryn and upon wyff, That they come to hym belyve To helpe hym out of londe dryve Kyng Richard with hys grete tayle. To hym come many an amyrayle, Many a duke, and many a kyng, And many ful gret lordyng Of Egypte and of Arabye, Of Capados and of Barbarye, Of Europ and of Asclanoyne, Of Ynde and of Babyloyne, Of grete Grece and Tyre alsoo, Of empyres and kyngdomes manye moo, Of alle hethene land, I fynde, Fo the Grekyssche see to grete Ynde.    Charles Kyng ne Alysaundre, Of whom has ben so gret sclaundre, He hadde nevere swylke an hoost. In the cuntré ther he lay acoost, Fyve myle it was of brede And more, I wene, so God me rede,76 Twenty myle it was of lengthe: It was an hoost of gret strengthe. To Jaffe cyté they comen skete; The Crystene men the gates dede schete. Ther was withinne a lytyl thrawe, On bothe half, many man slawe. So strong and hard was that batayle That it ferde withouten fayle, As it hadde ben fro hevene lyght, Among the swerdes that were so bryght, And evere the Crystene ful weel faught, And slowen Sarezynes, but it servyd naught; For it ferde thar, no man axen,77 As they out of the ground were waxen, That no slaughtyr of swerdes kene Myghte there nothyng be sene.    The Crystene fledde into the castel, And kepten the gatys swyth wel. The Sarasynes the cyté nome To theyr will and to theyr dome. Thenne began the Sarezynes Undyr the wal to make mynes. The Crystene men, for the nones, Al tofrusschyd hem with stones. The Sarezynys yede aboute the wal, And threwe and schotten in ovyr al; Many a brennande, scharp quarel They schotten into Jaffe castel. They soughten where they myghten beste Oure Crystene men agreve meste. At the laste a gate they founde, Nought faste schet at that stounde. There they fond strong metyng With swerdes and speres ful grevyng. To wedde they lefte a thousynd men, And of the Crystene were slayn ten. The Sarezynes, though they were stoute, At the gate men putte hem oute. The Sarezynes, for no nede, That day ne myghte they nought spede.    At nyght be the mone cler, The Crystene sente a messanger To Kyng Richard to Acres cyté, And prayde the kyng for Goddes pyté, That he scholde to hem come Or elles they were al inome. They tolden hym the harde caas Of the Sawdonys hoost, hou it was, And but he come to hem anon, They were forlorn, everylkon. Kyng Richard answeryd anon ryght: “Weel I knowe the Sawdonys fyght; He wole make a lytyl deray, And al so tyt he wole hys way, I nele for hym to hem wende, But soone I wyll hem socour sende.” He callyd to hym hys nevew, A baroun of ryght gret vertew That hyghte Henry of Champayn, And bad hym wende to Jaffe playn. “Tak,” he sayde, “with thee thyn hoost, And abate the Sawdonys boost. Az armys!” anon he gan crye Among hys hoost: they scholde hyghe With Sere Henry for to wende, Jaffe to socoure and to defende Agayn the Sawdon, Saladyn, And many a cursyd Sarezyn.    On morwen wente there with Sere Henry Many a baroun and knyght hardy, Gascoynes, Spaynardes and Lumbarde. For the byddyng of Kyng Richard, They wente forth be the maryn Tyl they comen to Palestyn. Of Saladynys hoost they seye then Al the cuntré coveryd with hethene men; And whenne the Sawdon of hem herde, Swythe towarde them he ferde, And whenne the Duke Henry it wiste, He fledde ayen, be Jhesu Cryste, That he made no taryyng Tyl he come to Richard, oure kyng, And seyde he ne seygh nevere, ne herde In al this wyde myddyl erde Halvyn-del the peple of men, That Saladyn has be doune and den. “No tungge,” he seyde, “may hem telle: I wene they comen out of helle.” Thenne answerde Kyng Richard: “Fy a debles, vyle coward! Schal I nevere, be God above, Trustene unto Frenssche mannes love! My men that in Jaffe beth, They may wyte thee of theyr deth; For thy defawte, I am adred, My goode barouns beth harde bested. Now, for the love of Seynte Marye, Schewe me quykly my galye! Now to schyp, on and othir, Fadyr and sone, eme and brothir, Alle that evere love me, Now to schyppe, pour charyté!” Alle that wepne bere myghte, They wente to schyppe anon ryghte, And wente agayn to Jaffe ward With the noble kyng Richard.    Now herkenes to my tale soth, Thowgh I swere yow none oth! I wole rede romaunce non Of Partinope, ne of Ypomadon, Of Alisaunder, ne of Charlemayn, Of Arthour, ne of Sere Gawayn, Ne of Sere Launcelet de Lake, Of Beffs, ne Gy, ne Sere Vrrake, Ne of Ury, ne of Octavyan, Ne of Hector, the stronge man, Ne of Jason, ne of Hercules, Ne of Eneas, ne of Achylles. I wene nevere, par ma fay, That in the tyme of here day, Dede ony of hem so doughty dede Of strong batayle and gret wyghthede, As dede Kyng Rychard, saun fayle, At Jaffe in that batayle, With hys ax and hys sword: His soule have Jhesu, oure Lord!    It was before the heyghe myd nyght, The mone and the sterres schon ful bryght. Kyng Richard unto Jaffe was come With hys galeyes, alle and some. They lokyd up to the castel: They herde no pype ne flagel. They drowgh hem nygh to the lande, Yif they myghte undyrstande, And they ne cowde nought aspye, Be no voys of menstralsye, That quyk man in the castel ware. Kyng Richard thenne become ful of care. “Allas!” he sayde, “that I was born: My goode barouns ben forlorn. Slayn is Roberd of Leycestre That was myn owne curteys meystre. Ylke leme of hym was wurth a knyght! And Robert Tourneham that was so wyght, And Sere Bertram, and Sere Pypard, In batayle that were wys and hard; And alsoo myn other barouns, The best in all regyouns. They ben slayne and all totore, Hou may I lengere leve therfore? Hadde I betyme comen hedyr, I myghte have savyd al togedyr! Tyl I be wreken of Saladyne, Certys, my joye schal I tyne!”    Thus waylyd Kyng Richard ay Tyl it were spryng al of the day. A wayte ther com in a kernel,78 And a pypyd a moot in a flagel. He ne pypyd but on sythe, He made many an herte blythe. He lokyd doun and seygh the galey Of Kyng Richard and his navey. Schyppys and galeyes wel he knew, Thenne a meryere note he blew, And pypyd, “Seynyours! or suis! or sus! Kyng Richard is icomen to us!”    But whenne the Crystene herde this, In herte they hadde gret joye, iwis, Erl, baroun, squyer, and knyght, To the walles they sterten anon ryght, And seygh Kyng Richard, here owne lord. They cryede to hym with mylde word: “Welcome, lord, in Goddes name! Oure care is turnyd al to game!” Kyng Richard hadde nevere, iwis, Halvyn-del so mekyl joye and blys. “Az armes!” he cryede, “Makes yow yare!” To hem that with hym comen ware: “We ne have lyfe but one: Sell we it dere, bothe flesshe and bone. For to cleyme oure herytage, Slee we the houndes ful of rage! Who so doutes for here manace, Have he nevere syghte of Goddys face! Take me myn axe in myn honde That was made in Ingelonde. Here armure no more I ne doute Thenne I doo a pylche cloute! Thorwgh grace of God in Trynyté, This day men schal the sothe isee!”    Al ther ferst on lande he leep, Of a dozeyn, he made an heep. He gan to crye with voys ful cler, “Where are these hethene pawtener That have the cyté of Jaffe inome? With my pollaxe I am come To waraunte that I have idoo,79 Wesseyl I schal drynke yow too!” He leyde on ylke a syde ryght, And slowgh the Sarezynes, aplyghte. The Sarezynes fledde and were al mate, With sorwe, they runne out of the gate. In here herte they were so yarwe, Alle here gates hem thoughte to narwe. To the walles they fledden of the toun: On every syde they fellen adoun. Summe of hem broken here swere, Legges and armes al in fere; And ylkon cryede in this manere As ye schal aftyrrward here: “Malcan staran nair arbru; Lor fermoir toir me moru.” This is to seye in Englys, “The Englyssche devyl icome is; Yif he us mete, we schal deye! Flee we faste out of hys weye!” Out of the toun they fledden ylkone, That ther lefte never one, But foure hyndryd or fyve That Richard broughte out of lyve. At the gate he sette porters, And stablede up hys destrers. He leep upon his stede, Favel, Weel armyd in yryn and in steel. The folk hem armyd alle in fere That out of the galeys comen were, And manye comen out of the castel That were armyd wundyr wel.    Kyng Richard rod out at the gate; Twoo kynges he mette therate, With syxty thousand Sarezynes fers, With armes bryghte and brode baners. That on upon the hood he hytte That to the sadyl he hym slytte. That othir he hytte upon the hood, That at the gyrdylstede it stood; And hys Templers and hys barouns, Fared ryght lyke wood lyouns, They slowen Sarezynes also swythe As gres fallith fro the sythe. The Sarezynes seyghen no betere won But flowen awaye everylkon, Unto Saladynes grete hoost That fyftene myle lay acoost. Twoo and thrytty thousand, forsothe to say, The Sowdan loste that same daye, For theyr armure fared as waxe Ayenst Kynge Rychardes axe. Many a Sarazyne and hygh lordynge Yelded them to Rycharde, our kynge. Rycharde put them in hostage tho: There were a thousande prysoners and mo. The chase lasted swythe longe, Tyll the tyme of evensonge. Richard rode after tyll it was nyght, So many of them to deth he dyght, That no nombre it may accounte. How many of them it wolde amounte. Rycharde lefte without the towne, And pyght there his pavylyowne; And that nyght with mylde herte, He comforted his barons smarte. And ye shall here on the morowe, How there was a daye of sorowe; For the gretest batayll, I understonde, That ever was in ony londe. And ye that this batayll wyll lere, Herken now, and ye shall here!    As Kynge Rycharde sate at his soupere, And gladded his barons with mylde chere, And comforted them with good wyne, Two messengers came frome Saladyn, And stode Kynge Rycharde before, With longe berdes and with hore. Of two mules they were alyght; In golde and sylke they were idyght. Eyther helde other by the honde And sayd, “Kynge Rycharde, now understonde Our lorde, Saladyn, the hygh kynge, Hath thee sente this askynge: If that thou were so hardy a knyght, That thou durste hym abyde in fyght, Tyll to morwe that it daye ware, Of blysse thou sholde ben all bare; For thy life and for thy barons He wyll not gyve two skalons! He wyll thee take with strength of hondes, For he hath folke of many londes, Egyens, and of Turkye, Of Moryens, and of Arabye, Basyles, and Embosyens, Well eger knyghtes of defens, Egypcyens, and of Surrye, Of Ynde Maior and of Capadocye, Of Medes, and of Asclamoyne, Of Samarye, and of Babyloyne, Two hondred knyghtes without fayle, Fyve hondred of amarayle; The grounde ne may them unneth bere, The folke that cometh thee to dere. By our rede, do ryght well, And tourne agayne to Jaffe Castell. In safe warde thou myght there be Tyll thou have sente after thy meyné, And yf thou se thou may not stonde, Tourne agayne to thyn owne londe.” In anger Rycharde toke up a lofe, And in his hondes it all torofe, And sayd to that Sarasyne: “God gyve thee well evyll fyne, And Saladyn, your lorde, The devyll hym hange with a corde! For your counseyll and your tydynge, God gyve you well evyll endynge! Now go and saye to Saladyn, In despyte of his God, Appolyn, I wyll abyde hym betyme, Though he come to morowe or pryme, And though I were but my selfe alone, I would abyde them everychone; And yf the dogge wyll come to me, My pollaxe shall his bane be! And saye that I hym defye And all his cursed company in fere. Go now and saye to hym thus: The curse have he of swete Jhesus!”    The messengers wente to Saladyn, And told the Sowdane worde and ende. Saladyn mervayled than And sayde it was none erthly man: “He is a devyll or a saynt. His myght founde I never faynt.” Anone he made his ordeynynge, For to take Rycharde the kynge. Therof Rycharde toke no kepe, But all nyght lay and slepe Tyll ayenst the dawnynge; Than herde he a shyll cryenge. Thorugh Goddes grace, an aungell of heven Tho seyd to hym, with mylde steven: “Aryse, and lepe on thy good stede, Favell, And tourne agayne to Jaffe Castell. Thou haste slepte longe inough! Thou shalte it fynde harde and tough Or thou come to that cyté, Thou shalte be wrapped and thy meyné. After the bataile do by myne hees, With the Sowdan thou make thy peas. Take trues and let thy baronage Unto the flome do theyr pilgrimage, To Nazareth and the Bedlem, To Calvarye and to Jherusalem, And let them wende hom after then, And come thou after with thy shypmen, For enemyes thou haste, I understonde, Here and in thyne owne londe. “Up!” sayd the aungell, “and well thee spede, Thou ne haddest never more nede!”    Rycharde arose as he wolde wede, And lepte on Favell, his good stede, And sayd: “Lordynges, Or sus! Or sus! Thus hath us warned swete Jhesus! “As armes,” he cryed thare, Ayenst the Sarasynes for to fare; But Saladyn and his tem Was bytwene Jaffe and them. That was to Rycharde moche payne, That he ne myght his hoost ordayne, But prekyd forth upon Favel, And garte hys launse byte fol wel. Therwith he slowgh withouten doute, Three kynges of the Sawdones route. Hys steed was strong, hymselven good, Hors no man hym non withstood. He hew upon the hethene cors, That unto grounde fel here hors. Who so hadde seen hys cuntynaunse, Wolde evere had hym in remembraunce. They gunne on hym als thykke to fleen,80 As out of the hyve doth the been; And with hys ax doun he sweepe Of the Sarezynys as bere doth scheepe. Ynglyssche and Frenssche gunne aftir ryde, To fyghte they were ful fressche that tyde; Upon the Sarasynes faste they donge beat; With swerdes and with sperys, And layden on with al here myght, And slowen the Sarezynes dounryght; But therof was but lytyl keepe: So many ther were upon an hepe That no slaughtyr in that batayle Myghte be sene, withoute fayle.    A myr ther was withouten Jaffes, A myle brod withouten les. Mawgré the Sarazynes, Richard the syre, Three thousand Sarezynys drof into the myre. Thoo myghte men se the hethene men Lyggen and bathen hem in the fen! And thoo that wolden have come uppe, They drank of Kyng Richardis cuppe. What there were drowenyd, and what were slawe, The Sawdon loste of the hethene lawe, Syxty thousand in lytyl stounde, As it is in Frensch ifounde. Kyng Richard wente again To helpe hys hoost with myght and mayn; Now was there, now was here, To governe hys hoost with hys powere. Seygh nevere man I have herd telle, One man so many to grounde quelle; And the moste peryle of the batayle Kyng Richard seygh, withouten fayle; Hys eme, Sere Henry of Champayn, Feld off hys horse doun on the playn. The Sarezynys hadde hym undyr honde, To slen hym ful faste they fonde. It hadde ben hys day laste, Ne hadde Kyng Richard comen in haste. Kyng Richard cryede with lowde voys: “Help, God and the holy croys! This ylke day myn eme thou schylde Fro deth of these doggys wylde! Lordynges,” he sayde, “lays upon! Letes of these houndes ascape non! And I my self schal prove to smyte, Yif my polax can ought byte.” Men myghten see hym with myghte and mayne, Schede the Sarezynys blood and brayn. Upon the place that grene was, Many soule wente to Sathanas. Be the dymmyng of the more, Men myghte see where Richard fore. The Templers comen hym to socour; There began a strong stour. Thay layden on as they were wood, Tyl valeys runnen al on blood. The Longespay was a noble knyghte; As a lyoun he gan to fyghte. The Eerl of Leycetre, Sere Robard, The Eerl of Rychemound, and Kyng Richard, Many Sarezyn they slowgh, saun fayle. Soo layde they on in that batayle, There these ylke knyghtes rod, There was slayn a way so brod That foure waynes myghte on mete — So manye Sarezynes les the swete — On bothe half was many body Slayn, strong, bold, and hardy; And at the laste, with gret payne, Kyng Richard wan the Eerl of Champayne, And sette hym upon a stede That swythe good was at nede, And bad hym wenden by hys syde, And nought a foote fro hym ryde.    With that came a messenger reke With kynge Rycharde for to speke, And sayde, “Sere, pour charyté, Turne agayn to Jaffe cytee! Helyd is bothe mount and playn. Kyng Alisaundyr, ne Charlemayn, Hadde nevere swylk a route As is the cyté now aboute! The gates ben on fyre set, Ryght of Jaffe castellet: Thy men may nether in ne oute. Lord, of thee I have gret doute, For ye may nought to the cyté ryde, In felde what aventure yow betyde! And I yow warne, withouten fayle, Mekyl apayryd is youre batayle. The patryark itaken is, And Jhon the Neel is slayn, iwis. William Arsour, and Sere Gerard, Bertram Braundys, thy goode Lumbard, All these ben slayne and many mo!” Kyng Richard bethoughte hym thoo, And gan to crye, “Turne arere, Every man with his banere!” And many thousand before hym schete With swerdes and with launses grete, With fauchouns and with maces bothe; Kyng Richard they made ful wrothe; They slowen Fauvel undyr hym: Thenne was Kyng Richard wroth and grym. Hys ax fro hys arsoun he drowgh; That ylke Sarezyn sone he slowgh That stekyd undyr hym his stede; Therfore, he loste hys lyf to mede. On foote he was, and he on leyde: Manye undyr hys hand ther deyde. Alle that hys ax areche myghte, Hors and man he slowgh dounryghte: What before and what behynde. A thousand and moo, as I fynde, He slowgh whyl he was on foote; That hem come nevere help ne boote.81    Saladynes twoo sones come ryde, Ten thousand Sarezynes by here syde, And gan to crye to Kyng Richard: “Yelde thee, thef, traytour, coward, Or I schal sloo thee in this place!” “Nay!” quod Richard, “be Goddes grace!” And with hys ax he smot hym soo, That hys myddyl flowgh in twoo. The half the body fel adoun, And that othir half lefte in the arsoun. “Of thee,” quod Kyng Richard, “I am sekyr!” Hys brothir com to that bekyr Upon a stede with gret raundoun. He thoughte to bere Kyng Richard doun, And gaf hym a wounde thorwgh the arme That dede oure kyng mekyl harme: Upon the spere hed was venym. And Kyng Rychard stoutly smot hym That man and hors fyl ded to grounde. “Lygge there,” he sayde, “thou hethene hounde! Schalt thou nevere telle Saladyne That thou madyst me my lyf to tyne!” With that, fyve dukes of hethenys Come with here hoost, withouten mis, Bysette aboute Richard, oure kyng, And thoughten hym to dethe bryng. Kyng Richard in a lytyl thrawe, The fyve dukes hadde islawe, And fele hyndryd aftyr then Of stronge, hethene men. And at the laste, though it were late, Rycharde wanne to Jaffe gate. Thenne were oure Crystene men ful sekyr That they scholden overcome the bekyr.    The Eerl of Leycestre, Sere Robard, Broughte oure kyng hys stede, Lyard. Kyng Richard into the sadyl leep, Thenne fledde the Sarezynes as they were scheep. Oure kyng rode aftyr tyl it was nyghte, And slowgh of hem that he take myghte. There were slayn in playn and den, Ten hundryd thousand hethene men That nyght withouten les. Kynge Richard wan into Jaffes, And thankyd Jhesu, kyng of glorye, And hys modyr of that victorye: For siththen the world was ferst begunne, A fayrere batayle was nevere iwunne.    At morwen he sente Robert Sabuyle And Sere Wyllyam Watevyle, Huberd and Robert Tourneham, Gawter, Gyffard, and Jhon Seynt Jhan, And bad hem seye to the Sawden That hym self agayn fyve and twenty men In wylde feeld wolde fyght To derayne Goddes ryghte; Yif he it wynne, to have the land Evere in Crystene mennys hand; And yif the Sarezynes myghte hym slee, The land scholde evere the Sawdonys bee. And yif he wole nought here hys sawes, “Says three yer, three monethis, and thre dawes, I aske trewes of the Sawdan To wenden home and come agayn than.” The messangerys gunne to wende, And tolde the Sawdon wurd and ende, He wolde nought consente to that batayle: Fyve hundryd agayn Richard, saun fayle! At morwen, yif he wolde come, The trewes scholde ben inome, Thus he tolde the messangers, And they it tolde Richard, the fers, The nexte day he made foreward Of trewes to the Kyng Richard. Thorugh all the londe to the flome Fro Acres that wolde come. Thoo aftyrward all the thre yere Crystene men bothe fer and nere, Yeden the way to Jerusalem, To the Sepulcre and to Bedlem, To Olyvete and to Nazarel, To Jaffe and to Mayden Castell, And to alle othere pylgrymage, Withote harme or damage.    Thus Kynge Rycharde, the doughty man, Peas made with the Sowdan, And syth he came, I unerstonde, The waye towarde Englonde; And thorugh treason was shotte, alas, At Castell Gaylarde there he was. The Duke of Estryche in the castell With his hoost was dyght full well. Rycharde thought there to abyde; The weder was hote in somer tyde. At Gaylarde under the castell, He wende he myght have keled hym well.82 His helme he abbated thare, And made his vysage all bare. A spye there was in the castell That espyed Rycharde ryght well, And toke an arblaste swythe stronge, And a quarell that was well longe, And smote kynge Rycharde in tene In the heed, without wene. Rycharde let his helme downe fall, And badde his men dyght them all, And swore by the see and the sonne, Tyll the castell were iwonne Ne sholde neyther mete ne drynke Never into his body synke. He let up robynet that tyde Upon the castelles syde; And on that other halfe the one, He set up the matgryffone. To the castell he threwe stones, And brake the walles, for the nones, And so within a lytell tyde, Into the castell they gan ryde, And slewe before and behynde All tho that they myght ayenst them fynde; And ever was the quarell by the lede, Stycked styll in Rychardes hede. And whan it was drawen out, He dyed soone, without doute, And he commaunded in all thynge, To his fader men sholde hym brynge. That they ne let, for nesshe ne harde, Tyll he were at the Font Everarde. At Font Everarde, wytterly, His bones lye his fader by. Kynge Harry, forsothe, he hyght: All Englonde he helde to ryght. Kynge Rycharde was a conquerour. God gyve his soule moche honour! No more of hym in Englysshe is wrought, But Jhesu that us dere bought, Graunte his soule rest and ro, And ours whan it cometh therto, And that it may so be, Saye all amen for charyté.

Here begins the life of King Richard I; (see note) (see note); (t-note) What [remarkable] hear in tales (storied exploits); (see note) Many; compose; (see note) their (see note) (see note) every [one of the] twelve peers; (see note) (see note) (see note) courteous (see note) war (see note) killled in that struggle (battle) verse narrative; (see note) Uneducated; (see note) men do not know any French scarcely one; (t-note) Many of them who would hear (t-note) valiant tell hear; tale end of life hearken to an earlier time; (see note) was named; (see note) certainly As; account slain; (see note) altar slab Where; performed (Henry); years extremely wanted; (see note) Though he found her with great treasure counseled him That he should consent to wed a woman envoys; (t-note) (t-note) fairest woman alive marry; (t-note) promptly prepared same At once; drew enough in the middle of scarcely had they sorely distressed encountered then; (see note) Such a one saw they never not one All of it was white as narwhal tusks; (see note) engraved prow rich silk cloth, utterly; (see note) silk from Toulouse; (see note) As white in outward appearance; (see note) spar; winch; (see note) lapus lazuli, truly arranged much power (wealth) Fair Their; at the side of the ship seized entreated them to remain their plan And they consented with all tact their Such vast; traveled carbuncle stone; (see note) Such one saw great each one went Thirty came toward them believe in unison placed a board [on them] fetched brought forth quickly more; noble did kneel to her wished to have done pleased themselves nearly [finished] eating Marvelous tales account (tale) came to him; (see note) to travel; together prepared ourselves travel straight eyes shall see satisfied Tower [of London]; (see note) disembark; promptly noble Where as flower did soon prepare himself Toward; walk (proceed) courteous and noble pure gold on every side great splendor; (see note) descended in haste greeted graciously; unknown (strange) together; (see note) To eat; in a short time great abundance food, in haste same [place] Dear (see note) (see note) account troops (retainers) victuals are you named; creature; (see note) lying; (see note) fair and beautiful remain meek under; control consented right away (t-note) (t-note) without pomp (discreetly) wedding in the morning sang the mass elevation [of the host]; (see note) frightened disgraced (injured) remain (see note) was named composed (written) (see note) together (see note) Cross celebrated mass power (authority) Sire (Sir) dare not witness to make her remain From [the time] an unusual occurrence consented prosperity; woe church consecration of bread and wine; (see note) wished to leave In spite of; happen forsake (abandon); (t-note) took herself moment seen (t-note) death (see note); (t-note) truly (indeed) devoted himself As is appropriate brave place; received homage (allegiance) victor arranged a tournament; (see note) every one not one On penalty of losing Not for anything that they be absent announced set apart without delay heavy armor (t-note) martial play knight errant arrogantly splendid (see note) without flaw (see note) gaped; mad disposition; (t-note) (see note) remain to harm and to harass faith struck; (t-note) blow in the middle of overthrew moment thrust His gorget with his lance point then; (see note); (t-note) moment close by did linger and wait company arrayed himself well was appropriate dared to wait for him utterly knocked gorget (throat armor); did go; (see note) shoulder armor (see note) He regretted; (t-note) lingered retainer also attire; dressed trappings (see note) (see note) lingered; waited there; (t-note) Against them observed entrusted Against him [Richard] mace helmet blow peers; (t-note) assuredly reprisal against him; mood then cast (molded) (see note) before Very swiftly then receive fill (see note) crupper; (see note) (service; heroic achievement) (see note) (see note) did betake himself; (t-note) Then (see note) delivered to repay (strike) helmet; (see note) delay penetrated; (t-note) On the chance that any blow should befall [him] dealt him stop portion So that; shattered relinquished before stunned lost did not know When; swoon travelled Heralds; (see note) travel comrade (ally) at once Very discreetly (see note) (t-note) at once delay Ask; together in response; (t-note) Promptly be done travelled quickly; joyful quickly courteously received them kind one them Said; Dear; two dear friends; (see note) charge (passage at arms) who knew; (t-note) use prize One galloping then mad At a distance he waited and held fast dark (black) did not support either side One of all the company dared; try lover’s knight-errant seized; mounted Such fell down heralds; cried feared again Lest such a fate should happen to him bold Seized; fierceness one of ours; felled We shall never be judged to be men insult unharmed Unless galloped; troop sturdy (t-note) errant knight; fury neck; (t-note) (see note) Who Let me live, or let me die ferocity drove (hit) split; (t-note) then remained dared extremely afterwards Lest he should deprive them of their lives saw paid close attention (see note) He seemed genuinely to be a devil; (t-note) ring; (see note) Let the devil entrusted to fierce Had it not been for Jesus Christ's grace neck a much worse blow smote wrongfully seized readily so that flew struck struck him better wait for quickly cross dove; (t-note) tarried; keenly nor fierce went Certainly I believed that knight was a devil (evil spirit); (see note); (t-note) rage; fierce strength dazed mad rogue (devil) a second time A second time he sought to engage in more combat more severe; anyway greeted lost (t-note) laughed Do not take offense all together to test know you not decided to travel pilgrims'; (see note) inspect wish; be sworn To inform no man who now is born request objection delay; fear (see note) agreement be bound (see note) (t-note) began to resound With spiked staff and pilgrim’s cloak; (see note) As pilgrims wear in heathen lands prepared themselves thoroughly; (see note) travel Flanders; (see note) two companions Brindisi; (see note) shore (region) of great excellence (renown) Cyprus Famagusta; (see note) days customs Acre; (see note) Macedonia; (see note) Cairo Caesarea; (see note) Nineveh; (see note) Bethlehem Sidon-Tyre; (see note) Ebren; (see note) Castle of Pride; (see note) Piraeus; (see note) Jaffa; Safoire; (see note) Tiberias; Archas; (see note) afterward; betook themselves Greek sea; (see note) Germany Lingered before they were able to depart brought them prepared; their; (see note) kindled spit mixed the sauce Dearly thoroughly Good men, indeed music (singing) (t-note) took into his memory regret offer travel about; (t-note) (see note) (t-note) skin and complexion time; (t-note); (t-note) one and all proud (fierce) peer (equal) clothing; dressed truly Indeed What reward (see note) in haste What are you called truly thus [as a king and nobles] dressed (t-note) (see note) As I may prosper an illegal act, it seems to me In the event that hazards may happen gatekeeper (guard) quickly consideration (see note) happened upon an unlucky time; (see note) (t-note) fierce (proud) under all circumstances first then came Dare you; blow agreement proud and haughty (valiant and noble) a box on the ear eyes (see note); (t-note) That he might not blame On account of feebleness his blow to strike repay; ready courteous prepared Crosswise and lengthwise breadth grievously prepared punishment; vowed To keep the agreement fiercely (t-note)  (see note) (t-note) swoon; (t-note) rushed slain; (see note) (t-note) overcome by woe their; (t-note) very quickly in a loud voice died every one behavior “Lady,” he said, “don’t you know Since Never had I not any such sorrow slay nearly became mad scarves (kerchiefs); tore; (t-note) (t-note) scratched; face; (t-note) (t-note) gushed with Wrung lost Unless (t-note) (t-note) statement (report) prison brought them; (t-note) did go without delay; (t-note) do your utmost smote; (t-note) prevailed morning took the position against him covenant Completely angrily; (t-note) prison; remain yet (t-note) depraved (wicked) Since; (t-note) in accord with the law went as chamber was called ninth canonical hour (3:00 pm) without delay; (t-note) prisoners Happily; surely fair (beautiful) gladly gave to him then taken (captured) accomplish for you prisoner second irons (shackles) Dressed as a squire; (see note) guard (confine) (see note) reward for service remained secretly heart’s desire Until the same day a week later He went and came in complete secrecy Seduced; young (t-note) (see note) Christian faith; (see note) moaned (sighed) deeply; (t-note) council went forth; (t-note) All as one without lying (t-note) himself sat without delay report (speech) seduced well pleased (satisfied) commanded (decreed) (see note) came regarded in every particular reputations suspicion each one best help them remained somewhat more quarrelled; (t-note) confusion and angrily put to death against the law because of their quarrelling agree Assuredly decision (punishment) right away truly, indeed judgment (counsel) death ordered; without delay Upon King Rychard that I might be avenged willingly hang; disembowel and dismember; (see note) act by my counsel (see note) withhold bring go to him nothing avenged upon proceeding; (see note) came then lover sentenced (judged); council; (t-note) brought turned loose upon you starving very severely will live dear love flee from the kingdom permission; (see note) I pay no heed second canonical hour (6:00 am) as plunder Kerchiefs (scarves) (see note) took Their; prepared afterward; withdrew creature Richard pleaded with her to depart Though death should be my fate from this place; (t-note); (see note) (t-note) noble Unless anger me so severely wrapped very device (strategy) guile without armor in a cloak Waited; mad (t-note) (t-note) attack torn him all to pieces moved quickly to the side kicked enfeebled beat walls roared rushed cast Tore found injury indeed (very) dais; (see note) splendid in the throng saltcellar dipped beheld (see note) quickly Certainly (see note) slain readily for good reason Christian (see note) wretch Curses lost seduced; (t-note) in the way described was the matter with him know grievous (fierce); (see note) (see note) dishonored (ruined); (see note) state of being married church (t-note) one those half (t-note) (t-note) assented heartily decision ordained through decree Where (t-note) know it well half So that spoken To that agreement I hold myself noble (see note) So that; here I shall repay him well [for] his effort; (t-note) noble in full compose did write it Altogether Greet well two archbishops; (see note) help them (see note) without delay Prepares himself; ready into that place [England] brought hurried at once broke apart the [seal’s] wax knew what to say (t-note) occur directed; to travel far and near Hastily, so that it would be accomplished taken (brought) [the chancellor] linger (remain) assuredly enough On account of us no neglect in duty will be smaller and greater; (see note) have departed then as they planned (were resolved) to your satisfaction right (fitting) leave happen So I counsel started to go grace noble happy alive arrival (t-note) to be found strong (see note) None refused (resisted) at his summons Sergeants; freeholder; (see note) command Greek Sea; (see note) Acre; Syria; many killed upon; (see note) redeemed; devil will Either wished slander (insult) Syria; (see note); (t-note) at that time; a very Against the Sultan protected; (t-note) (see note) very hard assault many foot soldiers (infantry) held a false religious belief; (see note) Sultan; grievously troubled; (see note) vile (see note) had much faith in deceitful secretly promised army conquered them gave his consent at that time (see note) knew; agreement (plot) (see note) (see note) lost hewn to bits flew heir of Syria; (t-note) (see note) knew afterward country (region) loss; sorrow (distress) Became known was named; (see note) each [leader] absolved them; (see note) to earn to that place avenge; foes provisions Burgundy; (see note) Austria; Soissons; (see note) Germany Brittany (see note) Artois; (see note) Many royal feast; (see note); (t-note) noble soldiers below the rank of knight (see note) the unletttered and the learned; (see note) fearful (see note) Syria Cross where women, and young men; (see note) Each; word requests travel; army to overcome; pride intended with sword’s blow fame intention one Said; many thanks I counsel (exhort) announce summon a true crusade take the cross; (see note); (t-note) equipped stocked hives; (see note) great shides (planks) (see note) engineers skillfully made supplied in addition named; (see note) one (only) mangonel; (see note) equipment thoroughly prepared harbor sailors instruct (see note) shore (t-note) See to it that you let none live (see note) as your booty Marseille; (see note) must By household (retinue) Germany (see note) To find out Unless pay him his due pilgrim; (see note) enemies (see note) Brindisi; Constantinople finally armies (divisions) appointed; (see note); (t-note) [To go] into heathen territory vanguard strength second capable in time of need justices Take care that you perform my order reason and justice (see note) (see note) command justice and fairness blessing aid them To give them their reward in heaven divided away from the other during that time without delay (t-note) fowl be profitable (see note) fear forbids knows; sworn; (t-note) force hopes slay not hinder us at all exhort tableware Vats, casks, and flasks Prepare our meal; hesitation (delay) boil or roast may God aid you meal; cooked and ready mayor; (t-note) came Table table seated brought; (see note) at once Worms very glad washed; customary; (t-note) (t-note) as ornamental gear; crimson Very pleasing to see I assure you more before at once comfortable; (t-note) (t-note) held dear very Each of them on their way ninth canonical hour (3 pm) good city (see note) insisted that he would remain swiftly came to him proceed [With] Such fowl livestock generous fruit (crops) Figs; basket nuts And throw a little wax in there Tallow; mix in Since resolved to travel (see note) (t-note) might he not retreat took his lodging to avenge his cruelty prepared knows always Unless will suffer disgrace grant to him That which And put yourself completely at his mercy (see note) angry reconciled likewise went as I tell you in addition, then toward; did take under your control (t-note) Provided that peace (reconciliation) very many times for your love, I beseech you travel heathen territory friendship his countrymen contend; (t-note) render me stalwart all prepared For an entire year are joined to them live splendid (powerful); (see note) [magically] unthwartable From here; India than one stone drown (t-note) injure many thanks (see note) Horses loaded; warhorses provisions war equipment Marseille (see note) (see note) High ranking; (t-note) (see note) Loaded; food And provisions to feed all their people boarded; shore strong Messina Greeks; (see note); (see note) pitched [Philip II] square To avenge (see note) without delay  (see note) Apulia was named Sicily each one told him [Roger] trouble from far away against him called for silence by And striking with his glove (see note) Having become a crusader into the Holy Land I believe would swear on behalf of Because of him harm never befalls you very gladly well pleased without fail Riace (Reggio); (see note); (t-note) and gracious It comes to pass for me to learn by a legitimate document deprive more esteemed In order (see note) bitterly vexed think wrongly such injure suspect (t-note) Bring upon me no harmful thing hope to injure; (t-note) burden does me injury not go unharmed Behold; (t-note) in this place intended Praised be Jesus Christ's ordering of events very peaceably beasts for his stores He gave up both salted and slain livestock (cows) count at that time (t-note) (see note); (t-note) (t-note) doubt outside (see note) market; (t-note) received hard blows outright; (see note) conflict; (t-note) guards (keepers); (t-note) Of the tailed Englishmen ; (see note) Greeks justice Since I shall myself so avenge them worthy of respect celebration; (t-note) (t-note) delicacy Barely might he drawe his breath maid Mary brave counted one by one Avenge furious; fierce of mood mad (see note) immediately speedily not set out because of Christ’s fast; (see note) the greater and the smaller (everyone) (see note) Longsword splendidly; (t-note) crossbowmen went quickly Upon; to be avenged quickly harm catapult without fail (t-note) pride  (t-note) mistreated; slandered vexed on no account achieve (t-note) sent for (see note) you are secret We should all strive to avenge ourselves With strategy insulted our people (see note) timber six stories; turrets; (t-note) decorated; embrasures (openings for weapons) distinguishing name; (t-note)   (see note) (t-note) And raise up (maintain) your spirits; (see note); (t-note) by the water side (t-note) travelled quickly pole; (t-note) siege tower (t-note) fear (t-note) wretches (dolts); (t-note) raise; catapult; (t-note) terrify; (see note) How he caused to bear in the dawning Shields and bulwarks; (t-note) He ordered at once his army to cry dolts; (t-note) tailed ones speedily; (t-note) crossbow and bow dropped (wounded) and slew (t-note) crossbow bolts dropped; (t-note) no loss conflict (see note) With which, I know, truly, indeed burnt themselves well; (t-note) shining (polished) steel so great a number (see note) Performed; equally took command He abandoned of his men not one raised up (hoisted) beckoned (t-note) Claims (assertions) valiant (see note) guard give assistance dint (blow) (t-note) armed troop placed; (t-note) beheld it; (see note) rush released from a leash struck; press [of combat] truly cut in two midway for great fear Portcullis; pulled; (see note) suffered; (t-note) (t-note) crowbars; (t-note) strength (resolve); (t-note) coffers (chests); (t-note) quilt (garment); (t-note) spices as merchandise goods (wealth) tow And again and again teach galloping Toward body crown [of thorns] journey (crusade); (see note) agreement; the honor (t-note) injury (t-note) (see note) peaceful from this time forward [Richard would] yield; (t-note) then avenged himself killed disparaged him; (t-note) speak physician; (see note) relinquish back then might not be able, with God’s approval [French and Greek] treasure; (t-note) wrong slander; lying violates (interferes with); is damned quarrel that disagreement (strife) was ended (see note) (t-note) Very harshly they vexed him Called him tailed one and slandered him; (t-note) tough (strong) truncheon took himself then head quickly rear; (see note) the top of the head Triples and quadruples; (see note) learn slander your superior complain pleaded for a favor (t-note) cease; (t-note) gave his consent; (t-note) avenged goods did speak (see note); (t-note) without delay  travel (see note); (t-note) loaded; I found (discovered) completely; (see note) event (see note); (t-note) truly rigging bowsprit and rudder; (t-note) toward; Limassol (a port in Cyprus) immediately broke apart broke apart With difficulty fourth; (t-note) restrained it; (t-note) (t-note) (t-note) (t-note) (see note) stripped the living killed; (t-note) swift And hauled up coffers in large numbers carried; (t-note) To whatever place the emperor wished ships with respect (high honor) (t-note) cost; dearly (see note) (see note) three times double; (t-note) (t-note) courteously gnashed his teeth; breathed fast moved away suddenly hand’s breadth And afterwards; just as rudely palace loss harbor destruction very quickly (see note) you are wrong (t-note) injury; (t-note) taken the cross; (see note) harm (see note) injury a secret matter; (t-note) to converse faithless emperor off; gristle complain dishonor Him and all his living men slay Unless; turn back seized face was ruined Permission beginning and end yield That that false emperor possesses (t-note) (t-note) hastened chess (see note) wagered That the emperor did to them injury (humiliation) In order to spite pledge; assistance leopard; (see note) words suddenly bolt of a crossbow Armed themselves for every possibility arrows (see note) fled eager to depart and flee; (t-note) (see note) Before (t-note) beat all to pieces hurried split apart; (t-note) thereby their resentment ended; (t-note) right then bars imprisonment commanded; clothing humiliation be punished citizens (freemen) ordered slain (t-note) as his own property (treasure); (t-note) Limassol (a port in Cyprus) put to death No wonder if he were grieved at once avenge in amity and accord (t-note) disfigured (shamed); on account of fair (beautiful); (see note) I deliver to you (t-note) promised Behold; prepared in the best manner aid in battle Before Still you need my counsel coast (shore) consider for yourself what great injury before this it does not matter King Richard greatly thanked be avenged very fully sturdy directed to be equipped in armor (t-note) in faith (t-note) (t-note) Look here, Richard, forcefully assail heron troop drawn watchmen To arms; (t-note) are betrayed and captured; (t-note) outright Cut all to pieces brought down; (t-note) again and again Do battle! Inflict blows! Slay outright! back again requital (reward) Dismounted before Fled Fiercely (t-note) (t-note) In the world never [was] any such thing Not so rich by a considerable extent gained the great honor brought excellence without number chests precisely decorated (see note); (t-note) war-horse Arabian steed counted out lost Sevenfold; in return taken (see note) he knew, certainly called at once (see note) hold from him On condition that (t-note) (t-note) retainer (t-note) beg me for pardon; remorse acknowledge Or else (t-note) very distressed deed (see note) will hostility (ill will) Fealty; (see note) in the same [place]; ate; table (t-note) lodging might avenge himself Buffavento; (t-note) in truth lord Mighty uncle mutilated misinformed concerned with nothing grounds for conviction and verdict shamed Who would, as he well knew now Just so I will not maintain service Neither Nor in unison (t-note) wished him remained it grieved him keenly dishonored ways (t-note) not endeavour to protect him; (t-note) his oath of fealty; (see note) pity Syria (t-note) ended (t-note) governor; (see note) (t-note) ordered his ships prepared I read behind protect his fleet stronghold (direction) free of storms (quiet) eleventh jeopardy an immense dromond (ship); (see note) loaded with difficulty; at all on the way to Loaded with grain; wine provisions; (see note) (see note) to sail them near from what place in goods (merchandise) enough  their translator Apulia light (see note) It is very necessary for us to come behind loaded Hardly may we sail by any means one together So that; hear more your language; after that For we will not believe one man interpreter lie at ease grain ready every single one was named Of your words; happy Let us see you arm quickly test; scoundrel strike them Right away enough timid (lacking in courage) may he be drowned [sailors’ cries] just as quickly As does a bolt out of the crossbow A large piece from the rear tore; beak; (see note) onboard; (t-note) inflict misery upon them more and more rained blows on them, indeed on high them arrows from crossbows Just as; ceasing hail; a thunder clap battle placed his back against whom he reached he received basinet (helmet) So that; cleaved the waist ship’s plank the neck flew (see note); (t-note) jumped overboard drowned themselves killed ordered to be held So that Abundant provisions; stocks of food Greek fire; (see note) Turkish bows; (see note) Barbed arrowheads every delicacy riches the sea Before half that property was unloaded (see note) Acre would not have been regained (see note) immediately went (betook himself) Syria by a spy Across the harbor of great Acre fastened to two pillars gain entry remained there On account of the hindrance of that very chain to himself directly Whether the mariners were at peace or angry (t-note) air; (t-note) front of the ship (see note); (t-note) (t-note) So that; truly stroke went spiced wine; clary; (see note) As if; they [sea and sky] sang Military drums and Saracen horns (see note); (t-note) ingenuity skill Surpassing all others skillfully (clearly)  (see note) Such a one never saw man in the world canvas Very bright fire Crosswise; lengthwise strings of wire; hung never performed work wheat nor hulled grain as; mad eye (hole in a millstone) trough (grain hopper in a mill); one covered (t-note) frightened; (t-note) believed (see note); (t-note) (t-note) Thoroughly; driven away toward took him [Richard] been remained; suffering Pisa; (see note) Pledged; service (feudal allegiance) (t-note) sorrowful Of deadly deeds; hard (dangerous) (see note) defended suffered That allotted to us any protection barbicans (outer fortifications) Made high moat (defensive ditch) (see note) company Marquis (Conrad of) Montferrat; (see note) (see note) formerly Than public disapproval (t-note) victory fled then what fate Happened put; to death It happened; (see note) Dashed out saw And moved swiflty came; fighting power before we knew it armed might Germany; (see note) (see note) Eleven thousand; army assault He ordered all the corpses [to be] taken; (see note) kill on no account stench; (t-note) (t-note) [there] is nothing to conceal The third predicament afflicted us sailing Loaded abundantly with wheat agreed (t-note) overwhelmed our folk So that; sixty score (twelve hundred) were born; (t-note) grief (hardship) eve (24 July); (see note); (t-note) Fully a mile pitched (set) (t-note) brave Saw; riches And we of all prosperity [have] scarcity booty wealth armed themselves fully combat their moved aside very fast with great speed armed troop believed; put to flight Oriental silk cloths (brocade) could take great abundance (t-note) loaded provisions (food) As foolish in bags; shoved their belts they fastened them each man had his cargo (burden) delay their movement came fast rushing in short; a great crowd surrounded our army bags considered ourselves to be lost Unless assistance; (see note) (see note) (see note) (see note) Baldwin; (t-note) nephew (see note) Hungary nobles situation befell us Michaelmas [29 September]; (see note) severe Did boil and eat the tough guts divided with dignity coals; cooked food (see note) florins; counted out (see note) grown (see note) pure gold; (see note) two (see note) hen’s egg; eleven pear to decline misery agreed then A rich share (portion) to allot everyone common men persons of higher and of lower station bought themselves; donkey Not for French or English currency; (see note) story (t-note) swiftly after that plead So that sweet Jesus might dispatch me foes leaped onto rode; body of knights; (t-note) around the moat came in [the] narrative; (t-note) There he ordered his pavilion to be pitched And erected (raised) his mate-gryphon; (see note) siege tower very fine; (t-note) bees; (see note); (t-note) well constructed mangonel; (see note) without delay drums Ordered the hives cast in great number anger face cellar very crafty (fierce) engine; erected miner; (see note) oath By; outermost bees; (t-note) immediately sheets; took cover flying insects pain (injury) In whatever direction; fled; (t-note) Archers saw and to them drew (shot) nobleness So that triumphed so there considered; (t-note) before endure high [So that] Unless thence (from that place) saw; burn radiantly adverse weather Bunches So they have agreed sendal (costly fabric) (see note) azure; ornamental band as many with noble armor pennons; company standards sendal (linen) (see note) battalion all together (t-note) (see note) without lie black; (see note) whalebone (baleen); light shield count; host of soldiers bunches;(see note) nearly Yet; saw; (t-note) (see note); (t-note) Unless; [spiritual] assistance lost; [we swear] by Christ many [a] brave man defended themselves head severed stabbed (t-note) dragged their entrails; (t-note) (t-note) ill then; (see note); (see note) [was brought] into great woe stir (move) Even if; fire for death’s fear Pass beyond the moat on the other side (t-note) So that; defeat them; (t-note) And those that had come in that were captured put to death no ransom did any good as fee; (t-note) exertion of the journey unnatural (unwholesome) wholesome search trustworthy physician or examine; (see note) opinion make; cease Or such anguish; (t-note) (t-note) will (spiritual attitude) recovery (relief) their; (t-note) acute fever He had no appetite for food was craving; (see note) by any means (see note) report conditions; such indeed is craving for sale; (t-note) Let no man have the audacity to tell him so You need to do as I shall say So that; know nothing (see note) Make sure the wretch be slain in haste skin flayed boiled very quickly seasoning; spices; (see note) smells the odor Out of his fever, if he is passed appetite And drunk of the broth (stew) a mouthful; (t-note) sweat a drop vigorous; healthy boiled; rogue (devil) gone and gotten Eat and drink of the sweet broth remedy; (t-note) carved gnawed (see note) turned themselves; laugh; (t-note) drew wrapped a while dressed himself; (t-note) enclosed area showed himself the learned; the unlettered (see note) hastened; (see note); (t-note) outer fortifications (t-note) mad man; behaved creator (see note)  I find myself healthy; relieved of illness accustomed to be am able to deliver strokes accustomed (see note) I shall vanquish deliver to them Muhammad reward fittingly Christians all together truth; conceal twice as many (see note); (t-note) (t-note) rode split cleaved (split) the fourth flew company (see note) fled (see note) rear guard by King Richard were troubled slay [Saracens] outright (see note); (t-note) shelter command guard were so afraid of King Richard victory swiftly dared to permit him (wait for him) time needed to travel ten miles morsel of bread [dipped] same giddy Of my sickness I am now afraid Unless  discerned that he had no other choice brought (see note) When the king sees his swarthy (black) face (t-note) And never before did I know it resurrection for lack [of food] As long as [we] may take the flesh Boil tested; once before; wretched did assail called for a true parley; (see note) high born (noble) delay; (t-note) translator Hear; (t-note) He wishes that Acre be yielded the river Jordan bexants (gold coins); (see note) Provided that power (status, skill) vile In this gathering and in every battle (army) faithless; (see note) whitened [with silver, i.e., bribed] by in my father’s time (reign) after that; forsaken his religion (see note) to protect command him [the Marquis]; army Either by; or by (see note) without delay Be patient, Sire, good friend You act unjustly; (see note) threaten; marquis guarantor; (see note) become reconciled (see note) had it not been (see note) dignity (reverence) more distressed feared hard blows to be subjected to from; (t-note) (t-note) much more; satisfaction in peace limb (t-note) (see note) captives bezants booty coats of mail (t-note) not accept this one armed men (capable of fighting); (t-note) offer And allow us to get completely away grant to you the agreement; (see note); (t-note) Provided entirely every one; (see note) (t-note) None must leave out of Acre livestock divided up Controversy; entering captives [in] great abundance Nourishment; shining arms keen armies (see note); (t-note) had captured in Acre greatest of most nobility Of heathendom’s lords of highest rank Emirs Unless you liberate (free) us from prison free (rescue) before the third day counsel; an agreement dismembered joyful (fain) So that; healthy Pack mules pure (refined); rich cloth (brocade) heirs; payment nearly twenty men’s loads Arabian horse gray-haired well learned of language (t-note) (t-note) the captives; seized May you let them out of prison So that; nor beat them the most valiant ones; (see note) And most trustworthy to our army God prevents me divide every cargo three others such as him request That you remain to dine with me message (offer); (t-note) consented to him; (see note) marshal; privately; (see note) (t-note) Secretly; (t-note) before See to it that you write every [man's] name scroll of parchment kitchen; (see note) cauldron boil them well removes the hair; (see note) See to it (see note) hot face; grinning raw (uncooked); (t-note) fix was named As if I were completely well satisfied (t-note) chicken story commandment knew not at all genial at a table apart; (see note) set out (placed); (see note) (raised platform) noble among the crowd paid great heed properly (at his pleasure) harm should befall him (see note) unlettered; (t-note) on his forehead in this way From that they received every sorrow (rage); (t-note) When they saw who they were eyes violently (cruelly) deeply kindred abstain laugh dish draw near one with great enjoyment believed; had gone mad (see note) forgets nothing very intently countenance then; requested may you be And see to it you be well at ease food vigorously look so dejected (frightened) trembled severely crawled fully expected bring without arrogance (meekly) Spiced wine, clary; pleasant knew squeamish God knows it (t-note) In safe-conduct to return again; (t-note) ill-bred of manners (ill-mannered); (t-note) harm; (t-note) tablecloth not even one But that on a mission came there kindred (kinfolk) wealth Travel; (t-note) So that he lessen his sorrow; (t-note) came Before; prepared household (retinue) block our food supplies conger eel; (t-note) go; (t-note) outright fully feed No less than (see note); (t-note) nourishing; (t-note) (t-note) Partridge (t-note) As long as; be alive Living; (t-note) stoutly (vigorously); proceed Just as go every single one (t-note) mourned; (t-note) mighty; (t-note) assure you fierce But talking did not benefit us (t-note) fine cloth Divide dinner; stay table (t-note) before himself saw; (t-note) leavened; (see note) drink dish (course of food) paid close attention boiled head hair crown of head eye I have no fear so as to lie companions ask; (t-note) Sultan of Damascus's son together two expected to die; (t-note) (t-note) His [the king’s son] of Persia Samaria Africa then; to sigh burst apart immediately Carved from; ate vigorously gnawed; (t-note) mad; carried on; (see note) glaring and fierce (t-note) expected to die; (t-note) Muhammad; offered our prayer protector; (t-note) saw us make an agonized (fearful) expression; (t-note) take up our course food then to go and get abundance do not be displeased custom provision of food (sequence of dishes) household; (t-note) stood in such terror From fear and grief we expected to die (t-note) baked or roasted distressed few words safe conduct; (see note) injury Before slain provisions spare one life woman boil never afflict them smooth as finished stone (level, flat) undergarment; (see note); (t-note) to tear from anger lord Their noble heirs; (t-note) valiant live (see note); (t-note) planned; advance; (t-note) (see note) (t-note) advise; (see note) Dispatch [a mission] and beg him once more remain alive (t-note) since he desires no gold bags, for the occasion Loaded in saddle packs and treasure chests you proffer to him To forsake a great deal So that; give up (abandon); war (t-note) choose most powerful Ratify it [by charter] to him and his offspring; (see note) Quickly in peace that he arrives and departs; (t-note) killed; (t-note) ill will; (t-note) teach; guide preeminence (distinction); (t-note) (t-note) (t-note) sergeants (officers) Sent begged him for; (t-note) (see note) Muhammad; (t-note) Dara(?) (a fortress on the Persian front); (see note); (see note) Cesson (Kesoun) (a bishropic east of Edessa); (see note) the Buqaia(?); (see note) (see note) Fie upon you rascals make payment might live mentioned leave (allow) him  help my soul; (t-note) (t-note) (t-note) Unless at once; (t-note) knew not; (see note) know crafty; (t-note) In this way cunningly to hoodwink me (t-note) commanded them to go (see note) secure their hands behind them behead answer believe in Apollo; (see note) all the way (see note); (t-note) Lords, kill, kill; (t-note) learn (see note); (t-note)  song pear bestrew; chambers woodland meadow mate predicament invited in great abundance heralds; minstrels drummers his praise; (t-note) (see note); (t-note) generous gathering support gain (see note) Generously reward them their service toiled If you have dealings with him again the next time deaf absolutely no seek defeat; in battle must be secure If God ordains us to have life to this place [Acre] escape From fastened sure of strong shelter army; divide in three troops Divide; two armies (see note) not under any inducement offer let none live young man receive Christianity Because King Richard in his judgment genial He used fair words and told untruths; (see note) bearing know considerably more asked them In fear that he would receive blows squadrons booty are timid and weak shrewd and crafty military actions ingenious greedy brave and daring speak boasting haughty (arrogant) are able proclaim; equal time of peril (show-down); (see note) deliver Scare off a boar by their boast; (see note) besieged Mount Tabor; (see note) surrounded it cut to pieces are seen turrets; embrasures standards themselves expected shoot terrified chief emir before Offer; kneel themselves one possess true bezant covenant request limbs For your heirs For reward; foes in agreement upon life and limb goods; take away solemn raise up fleur-de-lis; azure; (see note) Though To end the siege They loaded in wagons Rode regally on well-equipped steeds went Just so they followed the main road nor became disorderly standard (flag) Arqah (Arka, Archas?) depart out Except for the poor, the rich he set free way Nobly (doughty) Germany nephew; (see note) (see note) custom; (t-note) request prosper well; (t-note) From; took was named; (see note) monks (comrades) (see note) mutual agreement ten times as many soldiers below the rank of knight waited arrayed (made ready) enough advise; divide them one certainly, in all events On [penalty of]; command Unless; consent baptismal font Otherwise, see to it that you let none live Sidon and/or Tyre; (see note) skillful (see note) encircled besieged assault To defend themselves they strove raised warden (governor) Great Honor; (see note) Any man defend guard hurdles (palisades) drew back an arbalest; (see note) fully all the way pierced through fell heed; strategem make preparations other side of one of clever invention across went before; knew before; knew hastened; struck Many But when; constable taken guard Of these let them not beg mercy Immediately In scorn strive exercised their power outright pressed them hard in battle Arrows and bolts shot at them With fierce strength attacked them certain From hastened stabbed help us In safety taken lowered wide open immediately after rode; vanguard nor spared any took rent (tribute) Such blows Whoever; immediately they perished burned as much listen closely (see note) trick; knew escaped treachery known quickly lies; thief under deceive His arrival shall distress him ears; split open apostate know (am able) Either in word confirm cut off say trap (t-note) fastening Closed pin; placed fare badly If knocked out fathoms Many a person By [counter]weight (t-note) at once advise me peril footsoldiers; (t-note) Before the time Such [machinery] machine for hurling stones terrify swiftly request; favor reward agreement made all ready bore (thrust) down Before hurried apostate (traitor); went bridges works by a counterweight shut out To defeat allow peaceably (meekly) lay waste (kill) expect to survive Hardly had he this counsel given advised; at once If as a result seized cast dwelling (settlement) knocked down; turret clothing (attire) not wearing armor spare mortar burn Unless at once enter filled up; covered flat completely sound, indeed one and all graciously voice one precious silks (brocades) apostate promised (see note) ;(t-note) absolved him fully covenant treated peaceably (left alone) listen; charge (grievance) spoken out Upon; avenged advised together (as a group) One shall remain within the stronghold secretly troop boiled; roasted and fried bird crafty trick very much wanted sleep snore small door (window) what how things went Prepare yourselves quickly On account of what very quickly side door waited and gathered together crossbow dead by street or living young; (t-note) settled this account assuredly every bit released; before he departed income brought order to; again on high raised power Thomas Multon defeated Orglyous securely; locked up splendid towers by count foot soldiers On every side game to teach great tower resounds brought destruction faith struck broke into pieces barrier; bulwark (palisade) portcullis oak fiend; (see note) came stealthily may he suffer By permit prepare himself moats mud brink; (see note) paid no attention catapults did inflict pain on them Poisoned their weapons (arrows) were branch shield gate thatch beams; the wood mud safely battle Great harm was there inflicted; (see note) apprehended Lest; cast them down (destroy) Became thereafter a fair (bright) light fire (heat) expected defended themselves well; (t-note) one jumped place defended well mirth gathered themselves all together speech (argument) It happens to us that he will not grant peace Unless Muhammad believe; false religion strive; to defend Of the army; ten times hither fear him not at all engage [in battle]; (t-note) burn up; grease faint and cowardly lack assault threw on ready very spirited (fierce) very swiftly battle trappings (see note) before victory cease slain army (see note) far and wide valiant in armor Where they rode shook arrayed tallies await put in order conduct themselves [soldiers armed with] staff and slings arrayed (made ready) afraid blessed themselves Guard deliver our own message Prepared (t-note) Until; reach them; (t-note) shoot; took up position; (t-note) aimed at them; (t-note) believed outright pride (fierceness) did it bear full charge unbelieving heathen died Violently falchion; (see note) indeed rolled down Arabian steed Through pride; galloped at great speed; (t-note) (t-note) who; (t-note) (t-note); (see note) (t-note) (t-note) (t-note) wages (t-note) brandished shattered vigor Who went down head over heels part fell fared road; guard; hinder movement side; blocked them strike From; Arabian horses caparisoned struck off (t-note) shirt unornamented; (t-note) sound the call [that the game is taken] bury waited for him toast [of death]; (see note) shaved off the head went goods; think (see note) keep distribute goods Sir Fouke caused Christian men observe; remain awake watch defend completely to show (to testify) brought order to armed (prepared) placed him beside his exploits After toil in battle there to lodge Gascony Aquitaine; Germany roll Food; prepared appetite joyful together All those remain did speak of his deeds boys (youth) spared Then spoke To cry mercy availed them not were beheaded settled did came out of yielded thus in unison took it amiss angrily (violently) to be reproached wickedness permit it again beset in fight chief enemies  it is once again a new undertaking If; deceive me Strive to offend me mercy fortune agreement This town is obliged to you no more From now take in mind know knocked defiance To; right away one exercise (exert) be avenged battle cry strove timbers hurt backed away did challenge (attack) reached commit a sin; again; (t-note) Until; conquered overturned proceeded in women leave booty (prize) you get nothing else All at once you obtained your payment that cares for (heeds) you hold false beliefs None of them shall save their lives retreated quickly followed, slew, and stabbed death before this transgression engage in such folly (impudence) deceit again; falseness (deceit) Through which we should come into peril Were you a child on our lady’s breast He was troubled and remained silent glowered; sighed With King Richard he became upset uttered invade without quarrel Toward (see note) wealth (goods) be lacking 25 July; (t-note): (see note) twitter (t-note) Haifa sea-coast rushing; quickly harm rear guard learned brownish yellow [colored horse] Just as; swallow (t-note) place; (t-note) Those who And they turned around at that time so much speed (violence) (t-note) struck first (in front) slashed (bit) cut (dismembered); cut to pieces; (t-note) died (t-note) (t-note) Received On account of; cart; (see note) all fixed; mire (bog) (t-note) fighting gear (armor and weapons) they seized; (t-note) lost fighting gear protected hastened; on account of that (t-note) bore; (t-note) he bled (wounded) armor, truly stroke [William] Longespée Delivered blows fiercely struck (bit) uncertain very (t-note) smothered; breathing (life) in short Than by overcome dust; suffocated; (t-note) (see note) (see note) swift (nimble) cross place (t-note) grew gentle delivered brave against them charged released them refuge without delay hurried; spur (at full speed) at great speed Haifa rejoiced greatly hurry Henceforth onward by the coast (see note) pitched await; provisions During that time raze (level); (see note) (see note) (see note) Caesarea; (see note); (t-note) Arsuf; (see note) Jaffa; razed Castle Toron (Le Toron des Chevaliers); (see note) Castle Pilgrim (Chateau Pelerin); (see note) (see note); (t-note) St. George LaBane (the defender), possibly Lydda; (see note) (see note) Bethlehem; (see note) (see note) Perverse Land; (see note) spared razed without interruption In order that; refuge anger dared face him test not difficult resolve (determination) (see note) very (see note) Cesson (Kesoun) North Africa; the Buqaia(?); (see note) (t-note) (t-note) strong of hand Provence; sizable (excellent) Apulia Genoa; Sicily; Tuscany (t-note) Austria; Germany nearby; (t-note) written fought battle gear (see note) sendal continually Their armor appeared as if it burned (see note) drums; even more struck then resounded troop plates Well baron and knight loved him prepare a fight confound (see note) In front rode; read deadly their end Muhammad and Apollo And those of ours who received death did all he could to provoke; (t-note) was a pity arrogance (threats) (t-note) On account of misfortune; (t-note) nothing knew make ready Whom duty scoundrels then conducted himself each son And nine after (t-note) (t-note) (t-note) crushed him Follow after him who would follow did cause him pain (t-note) very same lance pierced died front saddlebow; hung One (t-note) (t-note) astonished (see note) narrative (history, poem) rested hymself; at all said behaved (t-note) (t-note) (see note) bit the dust (died) dragged his guts empty; (t-note) So that the child in the cradle mourned it; (t-note) crushed betook himself to his [Saladin’s?] In defiance of their god, Mahoun; (t-note) [blows] on every side once cliff driven (t-note) (t-note) burst apart after; (t-note) certain; lose (t-note) fleeing; (t-note) followed; galloping since barb pennons; (t-note) splendid narrative; (see note); (t-note) (t-note) without number much seized their plunder to store (t-note) (t-note) (t-note) admirable; praise (see note) go Where strife command (see note) arrogance Nineveh; (see note) auspiciously Macedonia Egypt; (see note) in every direction stand their ground (halt) immediately If I knew what day [the battle] would be then law seventh considerably more divided in four ways one Then raised Saracen banners believed then As soon as surrounded And became afraid in a moment recognized battled on on every side killed by a favorable circumstance suffered death; the poor and the rich went recount to you army travelled with him pitched siege machine quarrelling operators of siege engines drew back bolt slings attached to staffs trebuchet; (see note) tubes of clever design great agony (grief) victory victory agreed; then on high valiant were named lingered and waited remained motionless ride towards him readied himself painful blows recover ever again painful blow greatly annoyed vigorously dealt blows saddlebow lasted not at all long (see note) combat fierce blow sharp daggers ruthlessness shoulder-armor; away from his shield; (see note) fell grasped painful blow helmet split in two And completely shattered his brainpan Made known; [Thomas] betook himself departed remained still; (t-note) towards him turn back saw He did not wish for him to escape galloped went fierce fury fell shattered So greatly fierce valiant one next to it done I submit (surrender); (see note) For the sake of [Nineveh] Before him came and kneeled begged King Richard for mercy (see note) woman go to fight front agreed willingly remained quietly Muslim territory; (see note); (see note) had fled sent for assembled counted gilded spurs (knights) foot soldiers counted; sides very well seen without doubt (see note) than eighty thousand worthless [Saladin] one While (t-note) make [his] way to them fortified gate or bridge Be assured Waged the combat honorable then Who would not; killed outright at all times ready; (t-note) swiftly mount resistence strongly flew as thick a thunderstorm burn A decision made against them From; succeed no (any) price; (see note) burned those who are translator; then turned back; (t-note) ill fortune surrendered very joyful; (t-note) descended upon (engaged with) hoped And yet he [Philip]; nothing must end the siege happy Danced; merrily (see note) If you will permit, at present slay and eat his men; (see note) wage war on; wickedly sovereignty vindicate; claim; (t-note) swords swift Which; (see note) dispatched you (see note) Such [a] one you never saw not one of great value same test (see note) all exhausted Even if [Saladin’s] promise and perform release I shall ascertain what sort that he be take (desire) at once fierce necromancer; (see note) Both of like color and hair none such like a mare in any trouble mother constrain him (the horse) run towards her suckle his mother; (see note) At that time kill (see note) A horse shall be made available to you; (t-note) well built (t-note) Obtain; (see note) And fasten it crosswise over his mane destruction (death) vanquish cause you at you you may be sure; (t-note) departed prepared himself saddlebows lasting not On his saddelbow he placed (see note) (see note) after that ascended; (see note) the horse at my command [The horse] rigged (prepared) a large company lined up in formation gleaming counted even considerably more least [powerful] in addition ten one at least appeared a side; (t-note) battle formation; awaited (t-note) keep the pledge lies Covered ready feared them not at all “To arms!”; called out; (t-note) See that you are of good comfort prize (victory); (t-note) All the valor of the Muslim world will have conquered Unless; use from this time But rather for his effort Such Doomsday reprisal battalion rode blocked; routes the open country Nor any help Unless; captured bragged loudly and pretended heads split chronicle; (see note) battle formation went encircled; side one assaulted requested before sturdy did command Securely; fasten failed for no reason They did so links; (t-note) binding (t-note) upon girths; breastplate; (see note) An ornament; (see note) put saddlebow mace ornamented top of the helmet; toe lance leopards; fashioned lavish ornamentation (see note) (see note) (see note) engraved Before his [men] Cairo Macedonia Those have their will far and wide (see note) well equipped straight; vigor; (t-note) as hard; endure fire; (see note) moment was held to be from Damascus (see note) crupper breastplate neigh deceitfulness suckle But; evil spirit fearful heroic blow On his shield, truly (see note) (see note) breastplate [for a horse]; broke all apart went hindquarters (t-note) At the backside of spurred; (t-note) shattered; formation went caught In that place was no safeguarding of life To every part backs knew; (t-note) victory; Christian; (t-note) regained courage overthrew Performed sword Nearest to retainer (youth) Lest they not strike all down Those at that time happy [were] Stay; in loud voice drew close to the wood was fearful because of encumbrance struck wandered fetlocks (t-note) (t-note) outright (t-note) (see note) provisions fame (see note) And requested of him the Christian faith Churches (see note) those Richard commanded that they be slain divided (see note) (see note) St. Augustine help my soul (t-note) see it here (see note) (see note) florin (a gold coin) was a sign physician; doubt be healthy Unless (t-note) ordered made ready the festival of All Saints; (see note) King Richard cried out against him Until God's service was finished Ever from that time (see note) (t-note) He caused to be pitched in a garden; (t-note) retinue in Saracen territory; (see note) of great opulence; (t-note) (t-note) guard Enough; roam about (t-note) secure; (t-note) Ascalon; (see note) destroyed Austria deceive worked; (see note) So they did, one and another uncle (nephew) pride reason graciously share was not; (see note) break apart became greatly enraged; (t-note) Anger made him God knows it fell unluckily done; (see note) Fie a devil (t-note) maintaining a watch parasite; (see note) (see note) hurl His own life grew unpleasant to him insult; unhappy loaded; armor and weapons If avenged He kept the pledge all too well; (see note) may covert watch; spying grief been permitted to Heathendom (t-note) against him; loud again galloped away burn Genoese; Basques in faith When; (t-note) Ascalon takes Famiya(?)(a Syrian town); (see note) sea-coast; (t-note) splendid of Heathendom provisions oats; peas Three months in full every direction countryside (see note); (see note) adversaries 25 July; (see note) did not fear an assault never seen such Unless; travel received your condemnation Before; such a fate attain success course of action caused To cut rushes in the marshes machines (see note); (t-note) one hill placed turret level; (t-note) fear rushes a short time astonished continually outermost Then on this earth; (see note) did attack spurred; war-horse with misfortune stoutly; fear (t-note) struck off basinet (under helmet); split apart; (t-note) stabbed (t-note) saw abundant; (t-note) dared wait for slew difficult situations salted meat fire They preferred smoke; (t-note) those; (t-note) (t-note) (t-note) brave Saw greatly fiercely pain in a little while burned; their hurdles very great agony overcome suffocated in unison (t-note) limb resurrection slay perish right here (t-note) (t-note) consented then (t-note) (see note) unharmed And those who would so much give to depart (live) Right away blessing (see note) (t-note) skillful worth fierce old age ingenious ruse statue acknowledge (reveal) high rank immediately; (t-note) kill without lie in short order ruler their (t-note) (t-note) massive; (t-note) (t-note) I wonder greatly about your lord redeemed to pieces believe in unison a shaft made ready for himself native skill poles; iron sharp spear-head to look upon brought forth seated himself in two pieces; (t-note) angel (devil); (see note) there caused to be brought forth scheming cheerfully with joy to govern Even if he lived as long as Adam did by the sea-coast set up; (t-note) a little way from him (see note) (see note) saw They very much expected to be taken (t-note) fled; (t-note) opened very quickly a side gate (secret door) confront without a blow (see note) Where; dwelled in both together held (defended) sword; (see note) under his control born; (see note) Who was chosen [to bear] by Our Lady; (see note) all together have faith in distressing report Coeur (see note); (t-note) had seized; (see note) dominance of armed might supposes; live believed; alive quarrel If face me in battle protector believe; any reason (see note) lying (see note) armed might decided afterwards band of retainers put an end to in haste To complete (see note); (t-note) rushed in owed openly hostages skill; ingenuity cause pure; unimpaired To that, I pledge my life as security Unless; booty (t-note) company (group) deceit camels Refined spices may judge you protect riding in whispers (private) tell me right now wait and linger southward equipped himself company around believe me completely slay peer (equal) Nor none so great be named conceal as worthy distress saddened (t-note) And avenge with that To arms, make ready Lo; go rushes wealth on their way struck among them (see note) did pierce The child in the cradle grieved over it saddlebow the torment of hell not long the booty of worth mighty chargers Loaded all wonderfully refined coins just as fortunate (see note); (t-note) movable goods gain; goods (wealth) enough divided Thus (After); distributed; goods great nobility Chester; (see note) (see note); (t-note) Sealed Would give himself the crown soon Easter, by unanimous judgment (see note); enmity too much power outcry pay a high price All Saints’ Day (1 November) stocked with provisions watch over intended; (t-note) suffering; grief found out (see note) slain spoke impiously to After happy in spirits gone will cross over such a message Will otherwise (t-note) defend return; realm (see note) happy and sorrowful then bezants proposal ermine? On limb and on life without delay (see note) Cappodocia; Barbary; (see note) (t-note) (see note) Charlemagne; Alexander the Great fame so great an army where; nearby in breadth swiftly while slain proceeded (seemed) the light of heaven; (t-note) provided no benefit were growing out of the ground sharp defended the gates (t-note) command; (t-note) Utterly crushed burning, sharp bolt most time combat very punishing They left dead on no account; (t-note) (t-note) captured; (t-note) circumstances completely lost at once prowess attack And right away he will [go] his way I will not on account of him go to them; (t-note) help; (t-note) nephew valor (see note) And diminish the Sultan’s pride To arms hurry (t-note) sea-coast saw (t-note) knew it away; (see note) delay Half the troops (forces) by hill and dale count them believe Fie on devils (t-note) blame you for their death; (t-note) failure beset (pressed) uncle (nephew) for the sake of might bear weapon (see note) (t-note) wish to (will) read (relate) Partonope; Ipomedon; (see note) (t-note) Bevis (of Hampton); Guy (of Warwick); (see note) Urré; (t-note) (t-note) (t-note) Aeneas judge (believe); by my faith (honor) bravery (t-note) May Jesus, our Lord, keep his soul (t-note) flageolet (a flute-like instrument) musical instrument (music) living master (high official) Each limb valiant destroyed; (t-note) live early enough avenged I shall forfeit unceasingly fully dawn of the day (see note) but one time joyful Lords, arise now! Up now! (t-note) certainly rushed immediately distress; joy Half so much To arms; yourselves ready (t-note) (t-note) Whosoever fears because of their threat May he never (t-note) (t-note) fear; (t-note) ragged coat First of all of them pile of corpses scoundrels (t-note) (see note); (t-note) (see note) He delivered blows on every side in faith checkmated (put to shame) distress (grief) eager too narrow neck all together each one (see note) (see note) remained not one Other than of life (killed) gatekeepers all together (t-note) fierce one; hood So that at the waist it came to a stop crazed; (t-note) as fast grass; scythe saw; choice (t-note) nearby (t-note); (t-note) themselves the sixth canonical hour (sunset) he put to death remained (stopped) outside pitched bold (t-note) learn about encouraged (t-note) (t-note) gray hair were dismounted adorned (t-note) petition dare to face him deprived scallions (see note) Moors; (see note) (see note) Cappadocia; (see note) (see note) Samaria; Egypt scarcely bear them injure counsel endure Go back again; (t-note) loaf of bread broke it all apart wretched end (death); (t-note) (t-note) May God give you an entirely wretched end In contempt await; in due time before prime (6:00–9:00a.m.) face them in combat (t-note) challenge (declare war on); (t-note) together (see note) beginning; (see note); (t-note) (t-note) (see note) preparation for battle paid no attention about melodious (loud) (see note) voice (t-note) surrounded (entrapped) command; (t-note) Make truce; (see note) [Go] to the river; (t-note) go mad Arise now To arms; (t-note) troop; (t-note) command (t-note) prepared his lance to pierce troop Horse nor man, none withstood him cut into; (t-note) bodies; (t-note) behavior (appearance) bees mowes down bear; sheep (t-note) (t-note) service (protection) in great quantity swamp lying In spite of Then Lying and wallowing in the marsh (see note) (see note) ability (vigor) (t-note) nephew; (see note) captive endeavored protect deliver blows try to strike can at all bite (t-note) Satan By the darkening of the marshland attacked combat Where a path so wide four carts might pass lost the lifeblood rescued travel quickly; (t-note) (t-note) Covered an army set on fire On the right side fear danger may befall you reduced; army patriarch; (see note) (see note) (see note) (see note) (t-note) devised a plan Turn to the rear rushed before him (see note) angry and fierce saddlebow same killed as recompense delivered blows Those; those (t-note) thief waist; flew From you; secure with great speed overthrow poison So that to lose unquestionably little time many succeeded in passing to; (t-note) fully assured withstand (win); encounter plain and valley; (t-note) (t-note) attained For since more fortunate (just) (see note) uncultivated To vindicate God’s just cause proposals Designate; (see note) demand truce then beginning and end; (see note) be received (established) noble The next day he made an agreement Of truce with King Richard Throughout all the land to the sea; (t-note) Who [Richard] would come away from Acre (see note) Mount of Olives; Nazareth; (see note) (see note); (t-note) (see note); (t-note) (see note) Austria cast (threw) down wrongfully without doubt arrow [from a crossbow]; leaden tip soft Fontevraud; (see note) peace