O Satan envious! since thilkë day That thou wert chased from our heritage, Well knowest thou to woman th’ oldë way. Thou madest Eve to bring us in serváge: Thou wilt fordo this Christian marriáge: Thine instrument so (well-away the while!) Mak’st thou of women when thou wilt beguile.
This Soudaness, whom I thus blame and warray, Let privily her council go their way: Why should I in this talë longer tarry? She rode unto the Soudan on a day, And said him, that she would reny her lay, And Christendom of priestës’ handës fong, Repenting her she heathen was so long;
Beseeching him to do her that honour, That she might have the Christian folk to feast: “To pleasë them I will do my laboúr.” The Soudan said, “I will do at your hest,” And kneeling, thanked her for that request; So glad he was, he wist not what to say. She kiss’d her son, and home she went her way.
Arrived be these Christian folk to land In Syria, with a great solemnë rout, And hastily this Soudan sent his sond, First to his mother, and all the realm about, And said, his wife was comen out of doubt, And pray’d them for to ride again the queen, The honour of his regnë to sustene.
Great was the press, and rich was the array Of Syrians and Romans met in fere. The mother of the Soudan rich and gay Received her with all so glad a cheer As any mother might her daughter dear: And to the nextë city there beside A softë pace solemnely they ride.
Nought, trow I, the triúmph of Julius Of which that Lucan maketh such a boast, Was royaller, or morë curious, Than was th’ assembly of this blissful host: But O this scorpion, this wicked ghost, The Soudaness, for all her flattering Cast under this full mortally to sting.
The Soudan came himself soon after this, So royally, that wonder is to tell, And welcomed her with all joy and bliss. And thus in mirth and joy I