<We redyn ofte and fynde ywryte,

As clerkes don us to wyte,

The layes that ben of harpyng

Ben yfounde of frely thing.

Sum ben of wele, and sum of wo, 5

And sum of ioy and merthe also;

Sum of trechery, and sum of gyle,

And sum of happes Þat fallen by whyle;

Sum of bourdys, and sum of rybaudry,

And sum Þer ben of the feyrÉ. 10

Of alle Þing Þat men may se,

Moost o loue forsoÞe Þey be.

In Brytayn Þis layes arne ywryte,

Furst yfounde and forÞe ygete,

Of aventures Þat fillen by dayes, 15

Wherof Brytouns made her layes.

When Þey myght owher heryn

Of aventures Þat Þer weryn,

Þey toke her harpys wiÞ game,

Maden layes and ?af it name. 20

Of aventures Þat han befalle

Y can sum telle, but nou?t all.

Herken, lordyngys Þat ben trewe,

And y wol ?ou telle of Sir Orphewe.>

Orfeo was a king, 25

In Inglond an hei?e lording,

A stalworÞ man and hardi bo,

Large and curteys he was also.

His fader was comen of King Pluto,

And his moder of King Iuno, 30

Þat sum time were as godes yhold,

For auentours Þat Þai dede and told.

<Orpheo most of ony Þing

Louede Þe gle of harpyng;

Syker was euery gode harpoure 35

Of hym to haue moche honoure.

Hymself loued for to harpe,

And layde Þeron his wittes scharpe.

He lernyd so, Þer noÞing was

A better harper in no plas; 40

In Þe world was neuer man born

Þat euer Orpheo sat byforn,

And he my?t of his harpyng here,

He schulde Þinke Þat he were

In one of Þe ioys of Paradys, 45

Suche ioy and melody in his harpyng is.>

Þis king soiournd in Traciens,

Þat was a citÉ of noble defens;

For Winchester was cleped Þo

Traciens wiÞouten no. 50

Þe king hadde a quen of priis,

Þat was ycleped Dame Herodis,

Þe fairest leuedi, for Þe nones,

Þat mi?t gon on bodi and bones,

Ful of loue and of godenisse; 55

Ac no man may telle hir fairnise.

Bifel so in Þe comessing of May,

When miri and hot is Þe day,

And oway beÞ winter-schours,

And eueri feld is ful of flours, 60

And blosme breme on eueri bou?

Oueral wexeÞ miri anou?,

Þis ich quen, Dame Heurodis,

Tok to maidens of priis,

And went in an vndrentide65

To play bi an orchard side,

To se Þe floures sprede and spring,

And to here Þe foules sing.

Þai sett hem doun al Þre

Vnder a fair ympe-tre, 70

And wel sone Þis fair quene

Fel on slepe opon Þe grene.

Þe maidens durst hir nou?t awake,

Bot lete hir ligge and rest take.

So sche slepe til afternone, 75

Þat vndertide was al ydone.

Ac as sone as sche gan awake,

Sche crid and loÞli bere gan make,

Sche froted hir honden and hir fet,

And crached hir visage, it bled wete; 80

Hir riche robe hye al torett,

And was reuey<se>d out of hir witt.

Þe tvo maidens hir biside

No durst wiÞ hir no leng abide,

Bot ourn to Þe palays ful ri?t, 85

And told boÞe squier and kni?t

Þat her quen awede wold,

And bad hem go and hir athold.

Kni?tes vrn, and leuedis also,

Damisels sexti and mo, 90

In Þe orchard to Þe quen hye come,

And her vp in her armes nome,

And brou?t hir to bed atte last,

And held hir Þere fine fast;

Ac euer sche held in o cri, 95

And wold vp and owy.

When Orfeo herd Þat tiding,

Neuer him nas wers for no Þing.

He come wiÞ kni?tes tene

To chaumber ri?t bifor Þe quene,100

And biheld, and seyd wiÞ grete pitÉ:

'O lef liif, what is te,

Þat euer ?ete hast ben so stille,

And now gredest wonder schille?

Þi bodi, Þat was so white ycore, 105

WiÞ Þine nailes is al totore.

Allas! Þi rode, Þat was so red,

Is al wan as Þou were ded;

And also Þine fingres smale

BeÞ al blodi and al pale. 110

Allas! Þi louesom ey?en to

LokeÞ so man doÞ on his fo.

A! dame, ich biseche merci.

Lete ben al Þis reweful cri,

And tel me what Þe is, and hou, 115

And what Þing may Þe help now.'

Þo lay sche stille atte last,

And gan to wepe swiÞe fast,

And seyd Þus Þe king to:

'Allas! mi lord, Sir Orfeo, 120

SeÞÞen we first togider were,

Ones wroÞ neuer we nere,

Bot euer ich haue yloued Þe

As mi liif, and so Þou me.

Ac now we mot delen ato; 125

Do Þi best, for y mot go.'

'Allas!' quaÞ he, 'forlorn icham.

Whider wiltow go, and to wham?

Whider Þou gost, ichil wiÞ Þe,

And whider y go, Þou schalt wiÞ me.' 130

'Nay, nay, sir, Þat nou?t nis;

Ichil Þe telle al hou it is:

As ich lay Þis vndertide,

And slepe vnder our orchard-side,

Þer come to me to fair kni?tes 135

Wele y-armed al to ri?tes,

And bad me comen an hei?ing,

And speke wiÞ her lord Þe king.

And ich answerd at wordes bold,

Y durst nou?t, no y nold. 140

Þai priked o?ain as Þai mi?t driue;

Þo com her king also bliue,

WiÞ an hundred kni?tes and mo,

And damisels an hundred also,

Al on snowe-white stedes; 145

As white as milke were her wedes:

Y no sei?e neuer ?ete bifore

So fair creatours ycore.

Þe king hadde a croun on hed,

It nas of siluer, no of gold red, 150

Ac it was of a precious ston,

As bri?t as Þe sonne it schon.

And as son as he to me cam,

Wold ich, nold ich, he me nam,

And made me wiÞ him ride 155

Opon a palfray, bi his side,

And brou?t me to his palays,

Wele atird in ich ways,

And schewed me castels and tours,

Riuers, forestes, friÞ wiÞ flours, 160

And his riche stedes ichon;

And seÞÞen me brou?t o?ain hom

Into our owhen orchard,

And said to me Þus afterward:

"Loke, dame, to-morwe Þatow be 165

Ri?t here vnder Þis ympe-tre,

And Þan Þou schalt wiÞ ous go,

And liue wiÞ ous euermo;

And ?if Þou makest ous ylet,

Whar Þou be, Þou worst yfet, 170

And totore Þine limes al,

Þat noÞing help Þe no schal;

And Þei Þou best so totorn,

?ete Þou worst wiÞ ous yborn."'

When King Orfeo herd Þis cas, 175

'O we!' quaÞ he, 'allas, allas!

Leuer me were to lete mi liif,

Þan Þus to lese Þe quen mi wiif!'

He asked conseyl at ich man,

Ac no man him help no can. 180

Amorwe Þe vndertide is come,

And Orfeo haÞ his armes ynome,

And wele ten hundred kni?tes wiÞ him

Ich y-armed stout and grim;

And wiÞ Þe quen wenten he 185

Ri?t vnto Þat ympe-tre.

Þai made scheltrom in ich a side,

And sayd Þai wold Þere abide,

And dye Þer euerichon,

Er Þe quen schuld fram hem gon. 190

Ac ?ete amiddes hem ful ri?t

Þe quen was oway ytui?t,

WiÞ fairi forÞ ynome;

Men wist neuer wher sche was bicome.

Þo was Þer criing, wepe and wo. 195

Þe king into his chaumber is go,

And oft swoned opon Þe ston,

And made swiche diol and swiche mon

Þat nei?e his liif was yspent:

Þer was non amendement.200

He cleped togider his barouns,

Erls, lordes of renouns;

And when Þai al ycomen were,

'Lordinges,' he said, 'bifor ?ou here

Ich ordainy min hei?e steward 205

To wite mi kingdom afterward;

In mi stede ben he schal,

To kepe mi londes ouer al.

For, now ichaue mi quen ylore,

Þe fairest leuedi Þat euer was bore, 210

Neuer eft y nil no woman se.

Into wildernes ichil te,

And liue Þer euermore

WiÞ wilde bestes in holtes hore.

And when ?e vnderstond Þat y be spent, 215

Make ?ou Þan a parlement,

And chese ?ou a newe king.

Now doÞ ?our best wiÞ al mi Þing.'

Þo was Þer wepeing in Þe halle,

And grete cri among hem alle; 220

VnneÞe mi?t old or ?ong

For wepeing speke a word wiÞ tong.

Þai kneled adoun al yfere,

And praid him, ?if his wille were,

Þat he no schuld nou?t fram hem go. 225

'Do way!' quaÞ he, 'it schal be so.'

Al his kingdom he forsoke;

Bot a sclauin on him he toke;

He no hadde kirtel no hode,

Schert, <no> no noÞer gode.230

Bot his harp he tok algate,

And dede him barfot out atte ?ate;

No man most wiÞ him go.

O way! what Þer was wepe and wo,

When he, Þat hadde ben king wiÞ croun, 235

Went so pouerlich out of toun!

Þurch wode and ouer heÞ

Into Þe wildernes he geÞ.

NoÞing he fint Þat him is ays,

Bot euer he liueÞ in gret malais. 240

He Þat hadde ywerd Þe fowe and griis,

And on bed Þe purper biis,

Now on hard heÞe he liÞ,

WiÞ leues and gresse he him wriÞ.

He Þat hadde had castels and tours, 245

Riuer, forest, friÞ wiÞ flours,

Now, Þei it comenci to snewe and frese,

Þis king mot make his bed in mese.

He Þat had yhad kni?tes of priis

Bifor him kneland, and leuedis, 250

Now seÞ he noÞing Þat him likeÞ,

Bot wilde wormes bi him strikeÞ.

He Þat had yhad plentÉ

Of mete and drink, of ich deyntÉ,

Now may he al day digge and wrote 255

Er he finde his fille of rote.

In somer he liueÞ bi wild frut

And berien bot gode lite;

In winter may he noÞing finde

Bot rote, grases, and Þe rinde. 260

Al his bodi was oway duine

For missays, and al tochine.

Lord! who may telle Þe sore

Þis king sufferd ten ?ere and more?

His here of his berd, blac and rowe, 265

To his girdelstede was growe.

His harp, whereon was al his gle,

He hidde in an holwe tre;

And, when Þe weder was clere and bri?t,

He toke his harp to him wel ri?t, 270

And harped at his owhen wille.

Into alle Þe wode Þe soun gan schille,

Þat alle Þe wilde bestes Þat Þer beÞ

For ioie abouten him Þai teÞ;

And alle Þe foules Þat Þer were 275

Come and sete on ich a brere,

To here his harping afine,

So miche melody was Þerin;

And when he his harping lete wold,

No best bi him abide nold. 280

He mi?t se him bisides

Oft in hot vndertides

Þe king o fairy wiÞ his rout

Com to hunt him al about,

WiÞ dim cri and bloweing; 285

And houndes also wiÞ him berking;

Ac no best Þai no nome,

No neuer he nist whider Þai bicome.

And oÞer while he mi?t him se

As a gret ost bi him te 290

Wele atourned ten hundred kni?tes,

Ich y-armed to his ri?tes,

Of cuntenaunce stout and fers,

WiÞ mani desplaid baners,

And ich his swerd ydrawe hold, 295

Ac neuer he nist whider Þai wold.

And oÞer while he sei?e oÞer Þing:

Kni?tes and leuedis com daunceing

In queynt atire, gisely,

Queynt pas and softly; 300

Tabours and trunpes ?ede hem bi,

And al maner menstraci.

And on a day he sei?e him biside

Sexti leuedis on hors ride,

Gentil and iolif as brid on ris,— 305

Nou?t o man amonges hem Þer nis.

And ich a faucoun on hond bere,

And riden on haukin bi o riuere.

Of game Þai founde wel gode haunt,

Maulardes, hayroun, and cormeraunt; 310

Þe foules of Þe water ariseÞ,

Þe faucouns hem wele deuiseÞ;

Ich faucoun his pray slou?.

Þat sei?e Orfeo, and lou?:

'Parfay!' quaÞ he, 'Þer is fair game, 315

Þider ichil, bi Godes name!

Ich was ywon swiche werk to se.'

He aros, and Þider gan te.

To a leuedi he was ycome,

Biheld, and haÞ wele vndernome, 320

And seÞ bi al Þing Þat it is

His owhen quen, Dam Heurodis.

?ern he biheld hir, and sche him eke,

Ac noiÞer to oÞer a word no speke.

For messais Þat sche on him sei?e, 325

Þat had ben so riche and so hei?e,

Þe teres fel out of her ei?e.

Þe oÞer leuedis Þis ysei?e,

And maked hir oway to ride,

Sche most wiÞ him no lenger abide. 330

'Allas!' quaÞ he, 'now me is wo.

Whi nil deÞ now me slo?

Allas! wreche, Þat y no mi?t

Dye now after Þis si?t!

Allas! to long last mi liif, 335

When y no dar nou?t wiÞ mi wiif,

No hye to me, o word speke.

Allas! whi nil min hert breke?

Parfay!' quaÞ he, 'tide wat bitide,

Whider so Þis leuedis ride, 340

Þe selue way ichil streche;

Of liif no deÞ me no reche.'

His sclauain he dede on also spac,

And henge his harp opon his bac,

And had wel gode wil to gon,— 345

He no spard noiÞer stub no ston.

In at a roche Þe leuedis rideÞ,

And he after, and nou?t abideÞ.

When he was in Þe roche ygo

Wele Þre mile oÞer mo, 350

He com into a fair cuntray,

As bri?t so sonne on somers day,

SmoÞe and plain and al grene,

Hille no dale nas Þer non ysene.

Amidde Þe lond a castel he si?e, 355

Riche and real, and wonder hei?e.

Al Þe vtmast wal

Was clere and schine as cristal;

An hundred tours Þer were about,

Degiselich, and bataild stout; 360

Þe butras com out of Þe diche,

Of rede gold y-arched riche;

Þe vousour was anow<rn>ed al

Of ich maner diuers animal.

WiÞin Þer wer wide wones 365

Al of precious stones.

Þe werst piler on to biholde

Was al of burnist gold.

Al Þat lond was euer li?t,

For when it schuld be Þerk and ni?t, 370

Þe riche stones li?t gonne,

As bri?t as doÞ at none Þe sonne.

No man may telle, no Þenche in Þou?t,

Þe riche werk Þat Þer was wrou?t;

Bi al Þing him Þink Þat it is 375

Þe proude court of Paradis.

In Þis castel Þe leuedis ali?t;

He wold in after, ?if he mi?t.

Orfeo knokkeÞ atte gate,

Þe porter was redi Þerate, 380

And asked what he wold haue ydo.

'Parfay!' quaÞ he, 'icham a minstrel, lo!

To solas Þi lord wiÞ mi gle,

?if his swete wille be.'

Þe porter vndede Þe ?ate anon, 385

And lete him into Þe castel gon.

Þan he gan bihold about al,

And sei?e †ful† liggeand wiÞin Þe wal

Of folk Þat were Þider ybrou?t,

And Þou?t dede, and nare nou?t. 390

Sum stode wiÞouten hade,

And sum non armes nade,

And sum Þurch Þe bodi hadde wounde,

And sum lay wode, ybounde,

And sum armed on hors sete, 395

And sum astrangled as Þai ete,

And sum were in water adreynt,

And sum wiÞ fire al forschreynt

Wiues Þer lay on childbedde,

Sum ded, and sum awedde; 400

And wonder fele Þer lay bisides,

Ri?t as Þai slepe her vndertides.

Eche was Þus in Þis warld ynome,

WiÞ fairi Þider ycome.

Þer he sei?e his owhen wiif, 405

Dame Heurodis, his lef liif,

Slepe vnder an ympe-tre:

Bi her cloÞes he knewe Þat it was he.

And when he hadde bihold Þis meruails alle,

He went into Þe kinges halle. 410

Þan sei?e he Þer a semly si?t,

A tabernacle blisseful and bri?t,

Þerin her maister king sete,

And her quen fair and swete.

Her crounes, her cloÞes, schine so bri?t, 415

Þat vnneÞe bihold he hem mi?t.

When he hadde biholden al Þat Þing,

He kneled adoun bifor Þe king.

'O lord,' he seyd, '?if it Þi wille were,

Mi menstraci Þou schust yhere.' 420

Þe king answerd: 'What man artow,

Þat art hider ycomen now?

Ich, no non Þat is wiÞ me,

No sent neuer after Þe;

SeÞÞen Þat ich here regni gan, 425

Y no fond neuer so folehardi man

Þat hider to ous durst wende,

Bot Þat ichim wald ofsende.'

'Lord,' quaÞ he, 'trowe ful wel,

Y nam bot a pouer menstrel; 430

And, sir, it is Þe maner of ous

To seche mani a lordes hous;

Þei we nou?t welcom no be,

?ete we mot proferi forÞ our gle.'

Bifor Þe king he sat adoun,435

And tok his harp so miri of soun,

And tempreÞ his harp, as he wele can,

And blisseful notes he Þer gan,

Þat al Þat in Þe palays were

Com to him for to here, 440

And liggeÞ adoun to his fete,

Hem ÞenkeÞ his melody so swete.

Þe king herkneÞ and sitt ful stille,

To here his gle he haÞ gode wille;

Gode bourde he hadde of his gle, 445

Þe riche quen also hadde he.

When he hadde stint his harping,

Þan seyd to him Þe king:

'Menstrel, me likeÞ wele Þi gle.

Now aske of me what it be, 450

Largelich ichil Þe pay.

Now speke, and tow mi?t asay.'

'Sir,' he seyd, 'ich biseche Þe

Þatow woldest ?iue me

Þat ich leuedi, bri?t on ble, 455

Þat slepeÞ vnder Þe ympe-tre.'

'Nay,' quaÞ Þe king, 'Þat nou?t nere!

A sori couple of ?ou it were,

For Þou art lene, rowe, and blac,

And sche is louesum, wiÞouten lac; 460

A loÞlich Þing it were forÞi

To sen hir in Þi compayni.'

'O sir,' he seyd, 'gentil king,

?ete were it a wele fouler Þing

To here a lesing of Þi mouÞe, 465

So, sir, as ?e seyd nouÞe,

What ich wold aski, haue y schold,

And nedes Þou most Þi word hold.'

Þe king seyd: 'SeÞÞen it is so,

Take hir bi Þe hond, and go; 470

Of hir ichil Þatow be bliÞe.'

He kneled adoun, and Þonked him swiÞe;

His wiif he tok bi Þe hond,

And dede him swiÞe out of Þat lond,

And went him out of Þat Þede,— 475

Ri?t as he come Þe way he ?ede.

So long he haÞ Þe way ynome,

To Winchester he is ycome,

Þat was his owhen citÉ;

Ac no man knewe Þat it was he. 480

No forÞer Þan Þe tounes ende

For knoweleche <he> no durst wende,

Bot wiÞ a begger y<n> bilt ful narwe,

Þer he tok his herbarwe,

To him and to his owhen wiif, 485

As a minstrel of pouer liif,

And asked tidinges of Þat lond,

And who Þe kingdom held in hond.

Þe pouer begger in his cote

Told him euerich a grot: 490

Hou her quen was stole owy

Ten ?er gon wiÞ fairy;

And hou her king en exile ?ede,

Bot no man nist in wiche Þede;

And hou Þe steward Þe lond gan hold; 495

And oÞer mani Þinges him told.

Amorwe, o?ain nonetide,

He maked his wiif Þer abide;

Þe beggers cloÞes he borwed anon,

And heng his harp his rigge opon, 500

And went him into Þat citÉ,

Þat men mi?t him bihold and se.

Erls and barouns bold,

Buriays and leuedis him gun bihold.

'Lo,' Þai seyd, 'swiche a man! 505

Hou long Þe here hongeÞ him opan!

Lo, hou his berd hongeÞ to his kne!

He is yclongen also a tre!'

And as he ?ede in Þe strete,

WiÞ his steward he gan mete, 510

And loude he sett on him a crie:

'Sir steward,' he seyd, 'merci!

Icham an harpour of heÞenisse;

Help me now in Þis destresse!'

Þe steward seyd: 'Com wiÞ me, come; 515

Of Þat ichaue Þou schalt haue some.

Euerich gode harpour is welcom me to,

For mi lordes loue Sir Orfeo.'

In Þe castel Þe steward sat atte mete,

And mani lording was bi him sete. 520

Þer were trompour<s> and tabourers,

Harpours fele, and crouders.

Miche melody Þai maked alle,

And Orfeo sat stille in Þe halle,

And herkneÞ. When Þai ben al stille, 525

He toke his harp and tempred schille,

Þe bli<sse>fulest notes he harped Þere

Þat euer ani man yherd wiÞ ere;

Ich man liked wele his gle.

Þe steward biheld and gan yse, 530

And knewe Þe harp als bliue.

'Menstrel,' he seyd, 'so mot Þou Þriue,

Where hadestow Þis harp, and hou?

Y pray Þat Þou me telle now.'

'Lord,' quaÞ he, 'in vncouÞe Þede, 535

Þurch a wildernes as y ?ede,

Þer y founde in a dale

WiÞ lyouns a man totorn smale,

And wolues him frete wiÞ teÞ so scharp.

Bi him y fond Þis ich harp; 540

Wele ten ?ere it is ygo.'

'O,' quaÞ Þe steward, 'now me is wo!

Þat was mi lord Sir Orfeo.

Allas! wreche, what schal y do,

Þat haue swiche a lord ylore? 545

A way! Þat ich was ybore!

Þat him was so hard grace y?arked,

And so vile deÞ ymarked!'

Adoun he fel aswon to grounde.

His barouns him tok vp in Þat stounde, 550

And telleÞ him hou it geÞ—

It nis no bot of manes deÞ.

King Orfeo knewe wele bi Þan

His steward was a trewe man

And loued him as he au?t to do, 555

And stont vp and seyt Þus: 'Lo,

Steward, herkne now Þis Þing:

?if ich were Orfeo Þe king,

And hadde ysuffred ful ?ore

In wildernisse miche sore, 560

And hadde ywon mi quen owy

Out of Þe lond of fairy,

And hadde ybrou?t Þe leuedi hende

Ri?t here to Þe tounes ende,

And wiÞ a begger her in ynome, 565

And were miself hider ycome

Pouerlich to Þe, Þus stille,

For to asay Þi gode wille,

And ich founde Þe Þus trewe,

Þou no schust it neuer rewe: 570

Sikerlich, for loue or

Þou schust be king after mi day.

And ?if Þou of mi deÞ hadest ben bliÞe,

Þou schust haue voided also swiÞe.'

Þo al Þo Þat Þerin sete 575

Þat it was King Orfeo vnder?ete,

And Þe steward him wele knewe;

Ouer and ouer Þe bord he Þrewe,

And fel adoun to his fet;

So dede euerich lord Þat Þer sete, 580

And al Þai seyd at o criing:

'?e beÞ our lord, sir, and our king!'

Glad Þai were of his liue.

To chaumber Þai ladde him als biliue,

And baÞed him, and schaued his berd, 585

And tired him as a king apert.

And seÞÞen wiÞ gret processioun

Þai brou?t Þe quen into Þe toun,

WiÞ al maner menstraci.

Lord! Þer was grete melody! 590

For ioie Þai wepe wiÞ her ei?e

Þat hem so sounde ycomen sei?e.

Now King Orfeo newe coround is,

And his quen Dame Heurodis,

And liued long afterward; 595

And seÞÞen was king Þe steward.

Harpours in Bretaine after Þan

Herd hou Þis meruaile bigan,

And made herof a lay of gode likeing,

And nempned it after Þe king; 600

Þat lay 'Orfeo' is yhote,

Gode is Þe lay, swete is Þe note.

Þus com Sir Orfeo out of his care.

God graunt ous alle wele to fare.