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For Goddes love in Trinyté
Al that ben hend herkenith to me,
I pray yow, par amoure,
What sumtyme fel beyond the see
Of two Barons of grete bounté
And men of grete honoure;
Her faders were barons hende,
Lordinges com of grete kynde
And pris men in toun and toure;
To here of these children two
How they were in wele and woo,
Ywys, it is grete doloure.
In weele and woo how they gan wynd
And how unkouth they were of kynd,
The children bold of chere,
And how they were good and hend
And how yong thei becom frend
In cort there they were,
And how they were made knyght
And how they were trouth plyght,
The children both in fere,
And in what lond thei were born
And what the childres name worn,
Herkeneth and ye mow here.
In Lumbardy, y understond,
Whilom bifel in that lond,
In romance as we reede,
Two barouns hend wonyd in lond
And had two ladyes free to fond,
That worthy were in wede;
Of her hend ladyes two
Twoo knave childre gat they thoo
That douhty were of dede,
And trew weren in al thing,
And therfore Jhesu, hevynking,
Ful wel quyted her mede.
The childrenis names, as y yow hyght,
In ryme y wol rekene ryght
And tel in my talkyng;
Both they were getyn in oo nyght
And on oo day born aplyght,
For soth, without lesyng;
That oon baroun son, ywys
Was ycleped childe Amys
At his cristenyng;
That other was clepyd Amylyoun,
That was a childe of grete renoun
And com of hyghe ofspryng.
The children gon then thryve,
Fairer were never noon on lyve,
Curtaise, hende, and good;
When they were of yeres fyve,
Alle her kyn was of hem blyth,
So mylde they were of mood;
When they were sevyn yere olde,
Grete joy every man of hem tolde
To beholde that frely foode;
When they were twel winter olde,
In al the londe was ther non hold
So faire of boon and blood.
In that tyme, y understond,
A duk wonyd in that lond,
Prys in toun and toure;
Frely he let sende his sonde,
After Erles, Barouns, fre and bond,
And ladies bryght in boure;
A ryche fest he wolde make
Al for Jhesu Cristes sake
That is oure savyoure;
Muche folk, as y yow saye,
He lete after sende that daye
With myrth and grete honoure.
Thoo Barouns twoo, that y of tolde,
And her sones feire and bolde
To court they com ful yare.
When they were samned, yong and olde,
Mony men gan hem byholde
Of lordynges that there were,
Of body how wel they were pyght,
And how feire they were of syght,
Of hyde and hew and here;
And al they seide without lesse
Fairer children than they wesse
Ne sey they never yere.
In al the court was ther no wyght,
Erl, baroun, squyer, ne knyght,
Neither lef ne loothe,
So lyche they were both of syght
And of waxing, y yow plyght,
I tel yow for soothe,
In al thing they were so lyche
Ther was neither pore ne ryche,
Who so beheld hem both,
Fader ne moder that couth say
Ne knew the hend children tway
But by the coloure of her cloth.
That riche douke his fest gan hold
With erles and with barouns bold,
As ye may listen and lithe,
Fourtennight, as me was told,
With meet and drynke, meryst on mold
To glad the bernes blithe;
Ther was mirthe and melodye
And al maner of menstracie
Her craftes for to kithe;
Opon the fiftenday ful yare
Thai token her leve forto fare
And thonked him mani a sithe.
Than the lordinges schuld forth wende,
That riche douke comly of kende
Cleped to him that tide
Tho tuay barouns, that were so hende,
And prayd hem also his frende
In court thai schuld abide,
And lete her tuay sones fre
In his servise with him to be,
Semly to fare bi his side;
And he wald dubbe hem knightes to
And susten hem for ever mo,
As lordinges proude in pride.
The riche barouns answerd ogain,
And her levedis gan to sain
To that douke ful yare
That thai were bothe glad and fain
That her levely children tuain
In servise with him ware.
Thai gave her childer her blisceing
And bisought Jhesu, heven king,
He schuld scheld hem fro care,
And oft thai thonked the douke that day
And token her leve and went oway
To her owen contres thai gun fare.
Thus war tho hende childer, ywis,
Child Amiloun and child Amis,
In court frely to fede,
To ride an hunting under riis;
Over al the lond than were thai priis
And worthliest in wede.
So wele tho children loved hem tho,
Nas never children loved hem so,
Noither in word no in dede;
Bituix hem tuai, of blod and bon,
Trewer love nas never non,
In gest as so we rede.
On a day the childer, war and wight,
Trewethes togider thai gun plight,
While thai might live and stond
That bothe bi day and bi night,
In wele and wo, in wrong and right,
That thai schuld frely fond
To hold togider at everi nede,
In word, in werk, in wille, in dede,
Where that thai were in lond,
Fro that day forward never mo
Failen other for wele no wo:
Therto thai held up her hond.
Thus in gest as ye may here,
Tho hende childer in cuntré were
With that douke for to abide;
The douke was blithe and glad of chere,
Thai were him bothe leve and dere,
Semly to fare bi his side.
Tho thai were fiften winter old,
He dubbed bothe tho bernes bold
To knightes in that tide,
And fond hem al that hem was nede,
Hors and wepen and worthly wede,
As princes prout in pride.
That riche douke, he loved hem so,
Al that thai wald he fond hem tho,
Bothe stedes white and broun,
That in what stede thai gun go,
Alle the lond spac of hem tho,
Bothe in tour and toun;
In to what stede that thai went,
To justes other to turnament,
Sir Amis and Sir Amiloun,
For douhtiest in everi dede,
With scheld and spere to ride on stede,
Thai gat hem gret renoun.
That riche douke hadde of hem pris,
For that thai were so war and wiis
And holden of gret bounté.
Sir Amiloun and Sir Amis,
He sett hem bothe in gret office,
In his court for to be;
Sir Amis, as ye may here,
He made his chef botelere,
For he was hend and fre,
And Sir Amiloun of hem alle
He made chef steward in halle,
To dight al his meine.
In to her servise when thai were brought,
To geten hem los tham spared nought,
Wel hendeliche thai bigan;
With riche and pover so wele thai wrought,
Al that hem seighe, with word and thought,
Hem loved mani a man;
For thai were so blithe of chere,
Over al the lond fer and nere
The los of love thai wan,
And the riche douke, withouten les,
Of all the men that olive wes
Mest he loved hem than.
Than hadde the douke, ich understond,
A chef steward of alle his lond,
A douhti knight at crie,
That ever he proved with nithe and ond
For to have brought hem bothe to schond
With gile and trecherie.
For thai were so gode and hende,
And for the douke was so wele her frende,
He hadde therof gret envie;
To the douke with wordes grame
Ever he proved to don hem schame
With wel gret felonie.
So within tho yeres to
A messanger ther com tho
To Sir Amiloun, hende on hond,
And seyd hou deth hadde fet him fro
His fader and his moder also
Thurch the grace of Godes sond.
Than was that knight a careful man,
To that douke he went him than
And dede him to understond
His fader and his moder hende
War ded, and he most hom wende,
For to resaive his lond.
That riche douke, comly of kende,
Answerd ogain with wordes hende
And seyd, "So God me spede,
Sir Amiloun, now thou schalt wende
Me nas never so wo for frende
That of mi court out yede.
Ac yif ever it befalle so
That thou art in wer and wo
And of min help hast nede,
Saveliche com or send thi sond,
And with al mi powere of mi lond
Y schal wreke the of that dede."
Than was Sir Amiloun ferli wo
For to wende Sir Amis fro,
On him was al his thought.
To a goldsmithe he gan go
And lete make gold coupes to,
For thre hundred pounde he hem bought,
That bothe were of o wight,
And bothe of o michel, yplight;
Ful richeliche thai were wrought,
And bothe thai weren as liche, ywis,
As was Sir Amiloun and Sir Amis,
Ther no failed right nought.
When that Sir Amiloun was al yare,
He tok his leve for to fare,
To wende in his jorné.
Sir Amis was so ful of care,
For sorwe and wo and sikeing sare,
Almest swoned that fre.
To the douke he went with dreri mode
And praid him fair, ther he stode,
And seyd, "Sir, par charité,
Yif me leve to wend the fro,
Bot yif y may with mi brother go,
Mine hert, it breketh of thre!"
That riche douke, comly of kende,
Answerd ogain with wordes hende
And seyd withouten delay,
"Sir Amis, mi gode frende,
Wold ye bothe now fro me wende?"
"Certes," he seyd, "nay!
Were ye bothe went me fro,
Than schuld me waken al mi wo,
Mi joie were went oway.
Thi brother schal in to his cuntré;
Wende with him in his jurné
And com ogain this day!"
When thai were redi forto ride,
Tho bold bernes for to abide
Busked hem redy boun.
Hende, herkneth! Is nought to hide,
So douhti knightes, in that tide
That ferd out of that toun,
Al that day as thai rade
Gret morning bothe thai made,
Sir Amis and Amiloun,
And when thai schuld wende otuain,
Wel fair togider opon a plain
Of hors thai light adoun.
When thai were bothe afot light,
Sir Amiloun, that hendi knight,
Was rightwise man of rede
And seyd to Sir Amis ful right,
"Brother, as we er trewthe plight
Bothe with word and dede,
Fro this day forward never mo
To faile other for wele no wo,
To help him at his nede,
Brother, be now trewe to me,
And y schal ben as trewe to the,
Also God me spede!
Ac brother, ich warn the biforn,
For His love that bar the croun of thorn
To save al mankende,
Be nought ogain thi lord forsworn,
And yif thou dost, thou art forlorn
Ever more withouten ende.
Bot ever do trewthe and no tresoun
And thenk on me, Sir Amiloun,
Now we asondri schal wende.
And, brother, yete y the forbede
The fals steward felawerede;
Certes, he wil the schende!"
As thai stode so, tho bretheren bold,
Sir Amiloun drought forth tuay coupes of gold,
Ware liche in al thing,
And bad sir Amis that he schold
Chese whether he have wold,
Withouten more duelling,
And seyd to him, "Mi leve brother,
Kepe thou that on and y that other,
For Godes love, heven king;
Lete never this coupe fro the,
Bot loke heron and thenk on me,
It tokneth our parting."
Gret sorwe thai made at her parting
And kisten hem with eighen wepeing,
Tho knightes hende and fre.
Aither bitaught other heven king,
And on her stedes thai gun spring
And went in her jurné.
Sir Amiloun went hom to his lond
And sesed it al in to his hond,
That his elders hadde be,
And spoused a levedy bright in bour
And brought hir hom with gret honour
And miche solempneté.
Lete we Sir Amiloun stille be
With his wiif in his cuntré -
God leve hem wele to fare -
And of Sir Amis telle we;
When he com hom to court oye,
Ful blithe of him thai ware;
For that he was so hende and gode,
Men blisced him, bothe bon and blod,
That ever him gat and bare,
Save the steward of that lond;
Ever he proved with nithe and ond
To bring him into care.
Than on a day bifel it so
With the steward he met tho,
Ful fair he gret that fre.
"Sir Amis," he seyd, "the is ful wo
For that thi brother is went the fro,
And, certes, so is me.
Ac of his wendeing have thou no care,
Yif thou wilt leve opon mi lare,
And lete thi morning be,
And thou wil be to me kende,
Y schal the be a better frende
Than ever yete was he.
"Sir Amis," he seyd, "do bi mi red,
And swere ous bothe brotherhed
And plight we our trewthes to;
Be trewe to me in word and dede,
And y schal to the, so God me spede,
Be trewe to the also."
Sir Amis answerd, "Mi treuthe y plight
To Sir Amiloun, the gentil knight,
Thei he be went me fro.
Whiles that y may gon and speke,
Y no schal never mi treuthe breke,
Noither for wele no wo.
For bi the treuthe that God me sende,
Ichave him founde so gode and kende,
Seththen that y first him knewe,
For ones y plight him treuthe, that hende,
Where so he in warld wende,
Y schal be to him trewe;
And yif y were now forsworn
And breke mi treuthe, y were forlorn,
Wel sore it schuld me rewe.
Gete me frendes whare y may,
Y no schal never bi night no day
Chaunge him for no newe."
The steward than was egre of mode,
Almest for wrethe he wex ner wode
And seyd, withouten delay,
And swore bi Him that dyed on Rode:
"Thou traitour, unkinde blod,
Thou schalt abigge this nay.
Y warn the wele," he seyd than,
"That y schal be thi strong foman
Ever after this day!"
Sir Amis answerd tho,
"Sir, therof give y nought a slo;
Do al that thou may!"
Al thus the wrake gan biginne,
And with wrethe thai went atuinne,
Tho bold bernes to.
The steward nold never blinne
To schende that douhti knight of kinne,
Ever he proved tho.
Thus in court togider thai were
With wrethe and with loureand chere
Wele half a yere and mo,
And afterward opon a while
The steward with tresoun and gile
Wrought him ful michel wo.
So in a time, as we tel in gest,
The riche douke lete make a fest
Semly in somers tide;
Ther was mani a gentil gest
With mete and drink ful onest
To servi by ich a side.
Miche semly folk was samned thare,
Erls, barouns, lasse and mare,
And levedis proude in pride.
More joie no might be non
Than ther was in that worthly won,
With blisse in borwe to bide.
That riche douke, that y of told,
He hadde a douhter fair and bold,
Curteise, hende and fre.
When sche was fiften winter old,
In al that lond nas ther non yhold
So semly on to se,
For sche was gentil and avenaunt,
Hir name was cleped Belisaunt,
As ye may lithe at me.
With levedis and maidens bright in bour
Kept sche was with honour
And gret solempnité.
That fest lasted fourten night
Of barouns and of birddes bright
And lordinges mani and fale.
Ther was mani a gentil knight
And mani a serjaunt, wise and wight,
To serve tho hende in halle.
Than was the boteler, Sir Amis,
Over al yholden flour and priis,
Trewely to telle in tale,
And douhtiest in everi dede
And worthliest in ich a wede
And semliest in sale.
Than the lordinges schulden al gon
And wende out of that worthli won,
In boke as so we rede,
That mirie maide gan aske anon
Of her maidens everichon
And seyd, "So God you spede,
Who was hold the doughtiest knight
And semlyest in ich a sight
And worthliest in wede,
And who was the fairest man
That was yholden in lond than,
And doughtiest of dede?"
Her maidens gan answere ogain
And seyd, "Madame, we schul the sain
That sothe bi Seyn Savour:
Of erls, barouns, knight and swain
The fairest man and mest of main
And man of mest honour,
It is Sir Amis, the kinges boteler;
In al this warld nis his per,
Noither in toun no tour;
He is douhtiest in dede
And worthliest in everi wede
And chosen for priis and flour."
Belisaunt, that birdde bright,
When thai hadde thus seyd, yplight,
As ye may listen and lithe,
On Sir Amis, that gentil knight,
Ywis, hir love was al alight,
That no man might it kithe.
Wher that sche seighe him ride or go,
Hir thought hir hert brac atuo,
That hye no spac nought with that blithe;
For hye no might night no day
Speke with him, that fair may,
Sche wepe wel mani a sithe.
Thus that miri maiden ying
Lay in care and lovemorning
Bothe bi night and day;
As y you tel in mi talking,
For sorwe sche spac with him no thing,
Sike in bed sche lay.
Hir moder com to hir tho
And gan to frain hir of hir wo,
Help hir yif hye may;
And sche answerd withouten wrong,
Hir pines were so hard and strong,
Sche wald be loken in clay.
That riche douke in o morning
And with him mani a gret lording,
As prince prout in pride,
Thai dight him withouten dueling,
For to wende on dere hunting,
And busked hem for to ride.
When the lordinges everichon
Were went out of that worthli won -
In herd is nought to hide -
Sir Amis, withouten les,
For a malady that on him wes,
At hom he gan to abide.
When tho lordinges were out ywent
With her men hende and bowes bent,
To hunte on holtes hare,
Than Sir Amis, verrament,
He bileft at hom in present,
To kepe al that ther ware.
That hendi knight bithought him tho,
Into the gardin he wold go,
For to solas him thare.
Under a bough as he gan bide,
To here the foules song that tide,
Him thought a blisseful fare.
Now, hende, herkneth, and ye may here
Hou that the doukes douhter dere
Sike in hir bed lay.
Hir moder com with diolful chere
And al the levedis that ther were,
For to solas that may:
"Arise up," sche seyd, "douhter min,
And go play the in to the gardin
This semly somers day;
Ther may thou here the foules song
With joie and miche blis among,
Thi care schal wende oway."
Up hir ros that swete wight.
Into the gardine sche went ful right
With maidens hende and fre.
The somers day was fair and b |