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Nas sche bot a litel fram him gon,
That sche ne fel adoun anon,

Now swoneth that fre.
Knightes hir to chaunber ledde,
When fche lay opon hir bedde,

Sche seyd, Clepe Hatherof to me.'

Knightes, goth into halle swithe,
And bid the kinges make hem blithe,

That y wold wel fein ;
Hatherof, go into the erber swithe,
And geder parvink and ive,

Greses that ben of main.
Certeynli, as y you fay,
Horn is in this halle to day,

Y wende he hadde ben lain, Mojoun king schal never spede, For to have mi maidenhede,

Now Horn is comen oyain.

Hatherof, go into halle and fe,
In seli pover wede is he,

Y pray the knowe him right,
Say him, Treuthe-plight er we,
Bid him, sche seyd, as he is fre,

Hold that he bihiht.
Bidd him go, and me abide
Right under yon wode-side,

As he is trewe knight;
When al this folk is gon to play,
He and y schal stele oway,

Bituene the day and the night.

Hatherof into halle yode,
For to bihald that frely fade,

Fule wele he knewe his viis,
Opon his fot hard he ftode,
Horn thought the tokening gode,

Up he gan to arise,
Forth thai yede tho knightes bold,
Hatherof the maidens erand told,

Of trewe love Horn was wiis : “ Y schal com into the feld with pride, An hundred knightes bi mi side,

Milke white is mi queintise.

Bot, Hatherof, thou most me fchawe, Wharbi y schal Wikard knawe,

His buffeyt schal be bought.” “ He hath queintise white so snawe, With foules blac as ani crawe,

With silke werk it is wrought. Mojoun queintise 'is' yalu and wan, Sett with pekok and with swan,

That he with him hath brought ;, « Wikeles queintise is yalu and grene, Floure de liis sett bituene,

Him foryete thou nought."

Now is Hatherof comen oyain,
And seyd he hath Horn fain,

And what folk he hath brought,
And after 6 wisarmes' he gan frain,
Was never Rimnild ere fo fain,

In hert, no in thought.

“ Hatherof, go into halle swithe, And bid mi fader make him blithe,

And say icham fike nought. Wikard that is leve to smité, Horn schal him his dettes quite,

To night it schal be bought.”

When thai hadde eten than were thai boun,
With spere oloft and gonfainoun,

Al armed were tho bold;
With trump and tabourun out of tour,
Thus thai redde. the right roun,

Ich man as he wold.
An erl out of Cornwayle
Oyain Mojoun saun faile, ,

The turnament schal hold,
And Horn com into the feld with pride,
An hundred knightes bi his side,

In rime as it is told.

Horn of coming was wel wise,
And knewe hem bi her queyntise,

Anon thai counterd tho.
Mojoun king hath tint the priis,
Under his hors fete he liis,

Horn wald him noght no.
To fir Wigard his swerd he weved,
Even atuo he cleve his heved,

His box he yalt him tho.
Out he smot Wigles eighe,
Traitours that er leve to lighe
Men schal hem ken so.


That day Horn the turnament wan, ', Fro Mojoun and mani a man,

With knightes stithe on stede,
He toke the gre, that was a swan,
And sent to Rimnild his leman,

To hir riche mede.
To Houlac king Horn gan wende,
And thonked him as his frende,

Of his gode dede : ". Thou feddest me, and forsterd to man:" He maked Wikel telle out than

His lessinges, and his falshed.

Mojoun king is ivel dight, , '
Tint he hath that swete wight,

And wold ben oway, ..
Horn, that hadde hir treuthe-plight,
Wedded hir that ich night,

And al opon a day.
Now is Rimnild tuiis wedde,
Horn brought hir to his bedde,

Houlac king gan say,
Half mi lond ichil the yive.
With mi doughter while y live,

And al after mi day.

Five days sat her fest,
With mete and drink riche and onest,

In boke as we rede;
Forth, as we telle in gest,
Horn lete sende est and west,

His folk to batayle bede;

Into Northhumberland for to fare,
To winne that his fader ware,

With knightes stithe on stede,
With erl, baroun, and with swain,
To winne his fader lond oyain,

Yif Crist him wold fpede.

Michel frely folk was thare,
Into Northhuinberland to fare,

With stedes wite and broun;
Horn wald for no man spare
To winne al that his fader ware,

Bothe tour and toun.
When Thorbrond herd this,
That Horn to lond ycomen is,

(The rest is wanting.)


This pious legend is takeën out of an immense folio in the Bodleian library, known by the title of Manua Script Vernon, being a present from Edward Vernon esquire, formerly of Trinity-college, who commanded a company for the king in the civil wars, and in whose family it appears to have been for many years. The writeing is, apparently, of the fourteenth century. The th is uniformly writen with the Saxon P (not b), and z generally use'd for y at the begining of a sylla. ble, or for gh in the middle of one.

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