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OCTOUIAN IMPERATOR.

OCTOUIAN IMPERATOR.

JESU, that was with spere y-stoyuge,
And for vs hard and sore y swounge,
Glady both old and younge

With wytte honest,

That wylled a whyle ster her tounge,
And herkeny gest!

But fele men be of swyche manère,
Goodnesse when hy scholden here,
Hy n'ylled naght lesste with her ere

To lerny wyt;

But, as a swyn, with lowryng chere
All
gronne he syyte.

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And fele of hem casted a cry

Of thyng that fallyd to rybasdy,

That noon of hem that sytte hym by
May haue no lest.

God schylde all this company

Fram swych a gest,

And yeue vs grace goodnesse to lere
Of ham that before vs were,
Crystendom how they gonne arere
Tho hyt began!

Of oon the best ye mowne a-here
That hyght Ottouyan.

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Emperour he was yerys fyve,

Ayen hys foon, with fyght and stryfe ;
In all that tyme he hadde noo wyfe
To getyn hym an eyr.

Hys barouns seyde, that swyche lyf

Was not fayr.

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They seyde: "Syr, the Kyng of Fraunce

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And preyde the kyng with mylde chere,

Yf that hyt hys wyll were,

To yeue hym hys dowghter dere

To emperesse :

The kyng hym grauntede hys prayere,

And gan hym kesse.

No man may telle yn tale

The peple that was at that bredale :

Of kyngys, dukes, and prynces fale,

Erlles and baroun,

In Parys was y-feld ech a sale

Into all the toun.

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