To Achilles he myȝt come noght, [folio 136b]
Line 9211
For-sothe to him, as he hadde thoght.
Line 9212
AChilles is vpward cropen,
Opon his hors he is lopen:
Him were leuere than al Lubik,
That he myȝt Troyle to dethe strike;
Line 9216
He and his smot at him alle,
As men smeten atte balle.
¶ But Ector was ther-of war,
How thei be-gan with Troyle to fare;
Line 9220
He hied him thedir wonder swythe,
When Troyle saw him, he was blythe:
He ȝaff Achilles suche a dasche,
That al his helm be-gan to crasche,
Line 9224
He smot In-to his serkelet.
Now are thei to-geder met
Among her men hem two alone,
Thei delen dyntis wel gode wone;
Line 9228
Be-twene hem two was gret hate,
Thei haue be-gonnen a gret bate:
¶ Eyther on other be-gan to hewe,
Here strengthe to kythe, her myȝt to schewe,
Line 9232
Dredful dyntis be-twene hem dele;
He is a fole, with hem wol mele!
Thei are now bothe on hors-backis,
Ether of hem on other hackis
Line 9236
With swerdes scharpe opon her scheld;
A strong batayle was ther In feld.
¶ Here Aketouns roff as hadde ben pokes,
Ayther of hem on other strokis,
Line 9240
And tar here armes that were newe,
A wicked brotthe thei ther brewe;
With swerdes gode that were trenchaunt
Line 9243
Fauȝt thei to-gedur by that hil pendaunt. [The E in blue paint.]
