King Horn, Floriz and Blauncheflur, The Assumption of Our Lady
General
King Horn, Floriz and Blauncheflur, The Assumption of Our Lady
English poetry -- Middle English, 1100-1500; Mary, Blessed Virgin, Saint -- Legends; Romances, English
Godmod set at borde,
ant seide þeose wordes:-- 884
[Sidenote: Cutberd says that it were shame for three Christians to fight
against one pagan, and offers to fight alone.]
“Sire ki{n}g, hit nis no riȝte,
On wiþ þ{re} to fiȝte;
Aȝe{n} one hu{n}de,
Þre c{ri}ste{n} me{n} to fonde. 888
Sire, ischal al one,
Wiþute more ymone,
Wiþ mi swerd wel eþe
Bringe hem þre to deþe.” 892
“Syre kyȝeking, hyt no ryȝcte,
On wiþ þre to fyȝcte.
[_No gap in MS._ . . . .
. . . . . . . . . .] 888
At wille ich alone,
With oute{n} ma{n}nes mone,
Mid my swerd wel heþe
Bringe{n} hem alle to deþe.” 892
“sire kyng, nis no ryhte,
on wiþ þre fyhte,
aȝeynes one hounde,
þre c{ri}stene to founde. 888
ah, kyng, y shal alone,
wiþ-oute more ymone,
wip my suerd ful eþe
bringen he{m} alle to deþe.” 892
[Headnote: _Preparations for the combat._]
[Sidenote: He arms himself,]
¶ Þe kyng aros amoreȝe,
Þ{a}t hadde muchel sorȝe;
{And} Cutb{er}d ros of bedde,
Wiþ armes he him schredde. 896
Horn his brunie gan on caste,
{And} lacede hit wel faste,
Þe kyng ros a morwe,
And hadde meche sorwe.
Cubert ros of bedde;
Wyt armes he hym schredde. 896
Hys brenye on he caste,
Lacede hyt wel faste.
þe kyng aros amorewe;
he hade muche sorewe.
godmod ros of bedde;
wiþ armes he him shredde. 896
his brunye he on caste,
{ant} knutte hit wel faste,
[Sidenote: visits the king,]
{And} ca{m} to þe ki{n}ge,
At his vp risinge. 900
“Ki{n}g,” he sede, “cu{m} to fel[de],
For to bihelde
Hu we fiȝte schulle,
{And} togare go wulle.” 904
He cam biforn þe godeking,
At hyse op rysyng. 900
He seyde, “king, com to felde,
Me for to by helde,
Hou we scholen fyȝte
And to gydere hus dyȝcte.” 904
ant com hi{m} to þe kynge,
at his vp rysynge. 900
“kyng,” quoþ he, “com to felde,
me forte byhelde,
hou we shule flyten
ant to gedere smiten.” 904
[Sidenote: and with him rides to the combat.]
Riȝt at p{ri}me tide,
Hi gu{n}ne{n} ut ride,
And fu{n}de{n} on a g{re}ne,
A geau{n}t suþe kene, 908
His fere{n} hi{m} biside,
Hore deþ to abide.
Ryȝt at p{r}ime tyde,
He go{n}ne hem out ryde.
He founden in a grene,
A geant swyþe kene, 908
Armed with swerd by side,
Þe day for to abyde.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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