And taste my flankys with hur honde, That ys fo feyre y undurftonde, Yn bedde be me to byde. Sche fchall me bothe hodur and happe, Bothe evyn and morne tyde; Byd hur fadur fende hur to me, Or y fchall dystroye hym and hys cytè, A prowde garfon that hyght Acwrye, The emperowre aftur hym fende; "And, fay hym as my frende, That y grete wele fir Otes the graunt, And byd hym fende me his doghter avenaunt, That ys curtes and hende. 110 120 He cawfyd them to hye as they were wode, 130 Wyth schyppes foone into the flode, They rechyd ovyr the depe; Spaynyfch ftedys with them they ledd, And clothys of golde for back and hedd, Aye the wynde was in the fayle, That folke them feyre can kepe. Soon ther trefowre up they drowe, And ther fstedys strong ynowe, And made ther schyppys tome; They lefte a burges feyre and wheme, All ther schyppys for to yeme, Unto ther gayne-come. They passed thorow Pole and Chawmpayn, Evyr fperyng ther gatys gane Unto the cyté of Rome; They entyrde yn at the yatys wyde, Full ryally thorow the cyté they ryde, And dredyd no wrang dome. The fourti mesfengerys, as y yow fay, Ther fadyls fchone full bryght; 140 150 Ther brydyls glyteryng all of golde, Ther was never frescher upon molde, Made be day nor nyght. A stede of Spayne, y undurstande, Bothe full preft and wyght; All was covyrde wyth redd fendell, Thorow the towne the knyghtes fange, Lordys and ladyes of grete aftate, And odur many, well y wate, At wyndows owt can lye; And ever the formast speryd the wayes Unto the emperowrs paleys, Full ryall was that crye;» Feyre they were resfeyvyd thore Wyth him that was full wyfe of lore, Hys doghtur fate hym bye. In a robe ryght ryall bowne, Of a redd fyclatowne, Be hur fadur fyde; 160 170 180 A coronell on hur hedd fett, Hur clothys wyth beftes and byrdes wer bete, All abowte for pryde. The lyghtnes of hur ryche perrè, And the bryghtnes of hur blee, Schone full wondur wyde. There were kynges in that halle, Erlys and dewkys, who rekenyth all, Thes fourti mesfengerys at ones And came into the halle: Syr Acwrye haylfed the emperowre, That feyreft was of all. He afkyd of whens that they myght bee. "Of Coftantyne the nobull are we." "Feyre, fyrrys, mote yow befalle." "A prefent we have broght in hye, Fro owre emperowre, fyr Garcy, Stedys into thy ftalle, And fourty horfys chargyd ryght, Wyth clothys of golde, and befawntes bryght, Into thy trefory. 190 200 He byddyth, wythowte avyfement, That thy doghtur be to hym fent, For to lygg hym by; Hys body ys brefyd, hys bones are olde, Have done now hastelye. In comely clothyng sche fchall be cledd, Sche ys a feyre lady: And yf thou fende hur not soone, Then ryfeth ther a stryfe: And feche hur as hys wyfe. 210 He wyll dystroye thy bygly landys, 220 And flee all that before hym ftandys, And lofe full many a lyfe. Have done, he feyde, haftelye in hye, At home when we can ryve.” The emperowre feyde, as a man hende, |