He weped for him with bothe his eye, [folio 185b]
Line 12543
He wiste wel he scholde deye:
Line 12544
He drow him fro [MS. for.] the horses fete
With michel care & herte grete,
He bare him ney vn-to the toun
Liggande ther In a ded swoun;
Line 12548
Thei leyde him doun vnder the walles,
And Paris fast opoun him [MS. his.] falles:
¶ His eyen be-gan he than to open
That were faste to-geder stoken,
Line 12552
He loked vp vpon Paris,
He sayde: 'Paris, thow art not wys.'
He seyde: 'Paris, my brother dere,
Whi stondis thow by me here?
Line 12556
Wolde thow suffer me to tyne
My lyff, Paris, my brother myne,
Er I be venged on my bane?
Out of my brest schal neuere be tane
Line 12560
The spere, til I haue herd tythandes
That he be ded of thy two handes.
As I haue loued the, Paris, brother,
In al my lyff be-fore alle other—
Line 12564
Go aȝeyn & worche wisly,
That he be ded rather than I!'
PAris sone did him to gone
With carful herte & mochel mone,
Line 12568
He hadde of him gret compassioun,
That al-most he fel a-doun:
In-to that fight ȝede he wepande,
And lefft his brother ther lygande.
Line 12572
When he come ther, a bowe he hente
That was strong & wel y-bente;
He kest aboute In al his wit
Where he myȝt that kyng best hit,
Line 12576
