TROISIÈME CHANT

And there he restyd verrament,

At his owne will whilys that it was And shipped thanne in good entent, And at Dovorr landyd y ges ;

To Caunterbury full fair he past, And offered at seynt Thomas shryne ; Fro thens #one he rod in hast,

The eari of Saynys with alt his gent, Tue carl of Grawnte that without delay, And afso the archbishop of Sens,

The lord Raufermont was nought absent, Tbe lord Daufy, so Goû me speed,

The lord Philip Daufy of Amiens,

And the lord Amerey to ground is yeld, Tüe lord Robart ffret afl in that tide, The lord Warren was slain in that battle, Tbe lord Gremernn in that retayite,

The lord Valen hewed that was s0 stout, The lord Mantance laid down the selle Aa they lord Gonszg for ail his rought The lord Gonderet Gmttonyd lont,

The lord Denggardin'that was so gay, The lord Wénrys tiét was 50 stout,

To Eltham he cam in good tyme.

Wot ge right well, etc.

The mayr of London was redy bown,

With alle the craftes of that cite,

Alle clothyd in red thorugh ont the town, ]

The lord Mount-(royl, he sootb to say, The lord Quenys, as I you tell,

With the lurd Dampoth was siain that day And the lord Gengerct of Dalfour,

The duke of Orleans that was fall wo, That day he was taken prisoner

The duke of Braband siain was there, The duke of Bar fast him lle,

The duke of Atenson went never far, Ne the earl of Nevers certainly.

Sir Bursygand began yield.

And thus our king conqmered the 8e, Throagh the grace of Goë otmnipotent, He took bis prisoners, y oung and olé, And to Celais full foir be went.

À sémely sight it was to se :

To thé Black heth thanne rod hé, And spredde the way on every syde :

XX M! men myght well se,

Our comely kyng for to abyde.

Wot ye right well, ete.

The kyng from Bliham sonc he cem, Hyse presenors with bym dede brynge And t the Black heth fal sone he can, He saw London withoughte lesynge :

Heill, ryall London, seyde oure kyng, Crist the kepe evere from care ;

And thanne gaf it his blessyng,

And praied to Crist that it well fare.

The Mair hym mette with moche [honour,] With all tbe aldermen without lesyng; Heil, seyde the Mair, the conquerour, The grace of God with the doth spryng; Heiïl dak, heil Prynce, heil comely [kyog,] Most worthiest Lord undir Crist ryall, Heil rulere of Remes withoute lettyng, Heil flour of knyghts now over all.

Here is come your citee all, Yow to worchepe and to magnyfye, To welcome yow, bothe gret and small, With yow everemore t lyve and dye.

Graunt mercy Sires, oure kyng gan BAY ; And toward London he gan ride:

This was upon seynt Clementys day, They welcomed hym on every syde.

The iordes of Freunce, thei gan saÿ [then,]

Ingelond is nought as we wen,

It farith be these Englisshmen,

As it doth be a swarim ef ben ;

Ingland is like an hive withinne,

There fleeres mokith us fall evell to [wryng,]

Thoben there arrowes sharpeand kene,

Thorughoureharneys they do usstyng.

To London brigge, thanne rood ours [kyng}, The processions there they mette hym [ryght,] ‘Ave Rex Anglor thei gan syng ‘Flosmandi’ theiseyde, Goddyskayght To London brigge whan he com ryght, Upon the gate ther stode on hy, À gyaunt that wes full grym of syghi, To teche the Frensshmen curtesye.

Andatthodrawebrigge, thatisfasteby,

To toures there were upright ;

An antelope and a Lyon stondyng hym

[by;]

Above them seynt George oure lady [knyght,]

Besyde bym many an angell bright,

‘Benedictus’ thei gan synge,

‘Qui venit in nomine domin’ goddes [knyghi,]

“Gracia Dei’ with yow deth sprynge.

Into London thanne rood oure kyng, Full goodly there thei gonnen hym (grete ;]

Thorugh out the town tbanne gonne

[they syng,] For joy and merthe y yow behete ; Men and women for joye they alle, Of his comyng thei weren so fayn.

ThattheCondydbothegreteandsmalle, Ran wyn ich on as y herbe sayn.

The tour of Cornhill that is so shene,

[ may well say now as y knowe,

It was full of Patriarkes alle be dene,

“Cantate’ thei songe upon a rowe ;

There bryddes thei gon down throwe,

An hundred there flewe aboughte oure [kyng,]

‘“Laus ejus’ bothe hyghe and lowe

‘In ecclesia sanctorum’ thei dyd syng.

Unto the Chepe thanne rood oure kyng;

To the Condyt whanne he com tho,

The xij apostelys thei gon syng,

‘Benedict anima domino.’

XII kynges there were on a rowe,

They knelyd doun be on asent,

And obles aboughte oure kyng gan [throwe, |

And wolcomyd hym with good entent.

The cros in Chepe verrament,

Ît was gret joy it for to beholde :

Ît was araied full reverent,

With a castell right as God wolde, With baners brighte beten with gold.

And angelys senssyd hym that tyde, With besaunts riche many a fold, They strowed ourekyng onevery syde.

Virgynes out of the castell gon glyde, For joye of hym they were daunsyng, They knelyd a doun alle in that tyde, ‘Nowell’ Nowell’ alle thei gon syng, Unto Poules thanne rood oure kyng, XIIITbysshopeshym mette there right, The grete bellys thanne did they ryng, Upon his feet full faire he light.

And to the heighe auter he went right, Te deum for joye thanne thei gon syng:

And there he offred to God almyght, And thanne to Westminster he wente

[withoute dwellyng.] In XV wokes forsothe, he wrought al

[this,]

Conquered Harfleu and Agincourt ; Crist brynge there soules all to blys, That in that day were mort.

Christ that is oure hevene kyng,

His body and soule save and se ;

Now all Ingelond may say and syng,

« Blyssyd mote be the Trinite. »

This jornay have ye herd now alle be [dene,]

The date of Crist I wot is was,

À thousand foure hundred and fyftene.

Gloria tin Trinuas !