University of Virginia Library

That was Jocund and Joly and Jacomede hight,
Hit was þe souerayne Citie of the Soyle euer,
Of lenght & largenes louely to see,
Well wallit for werre, watrit aboute.
Grete toures full toure all þe toune vmbe,
Well bilde all aboute, & mony buernes In,
With proude pals of prise & palys full noble.
There was the souerayne Cytie of Shetes þe kyng,
With his baronage bolde & buernes full noble;
Mony Knightes in his courtte & company grete.
Ther were fyldes full faire fast þere besyde,
With grete medoes & grene, goodly to showe,
With all odour of herbis þat on vrthe springes;
The bourderis about abasshet with leuys,
With shotes of shire wode shene to beholde:
Grete greues full grene, grecfull of dere,
Wilde bestes to wale was þere enow:
Herdes at þe hond ay by holte sydes,
Vppon laundes þai lay likyng to see.
Vmbe the sercle of the Citie was sothely A playne,
ffull of floures fresshe fret on þe grounde,
With lefs-ales vppon lofte lustie and faire,
ffolke to refresshe for faintyng of hete,
With voiders vnder vines for violent sonnes.
There was wellit to wale water full nobill,
In yche place of the playne with plentius stremes,
With a swoughe and a swetnes sweppit on þe grounde,
And all fowles in ffether fell þere vppon,
ffor to reckon by right þat to ryuer haunttes.
Small briddes aboue in þe bright leuys
With shrikes full shrille in the shire bowes;
The noise was full noble of notes to here,
Thurgh myrth & melody made vppon lofte.
To this souerayne Citie þat yet was olofte,
Jason [a]ioynid and his iust fferis,
Steppit vp to a streite streght on his gate.
As þai past on the payment þe pepull beheld,
Haden wonder of the weghes, & wilfulde desyre
To know of þere comyng and the cause wete,
Þat were so rially arait & a rowte gay.
So faire freikes vppon fote was ferly to se,
So ȝonge and so yepe, ȝyuerus of wille,
ffolke fraynide fast at tho fre buernes,
Of what cuntre þai come & the cause why.
Was no wegh þat A word warpid hom too,
But sewid furthe to the sale of Chethes the kyng:
þai bowet to the brode yate or þai bide wold.
The Kyng of his curtessy Kayres hom vnto,
Silet furthe of his Citie seriaunttes hym with,
Mony stalworth in stoure as his astate wold;
Than he fongid þo freikes with a fine chere,
With hailsyng of hed bare, haspyng in armys,
And led hom furthe lyuely into a large halle,
Gaid vp by a grese all of gray marbill,
Into a chamber full choise (chefe) on þere way,
Þat proudly was painted with pure gold ouer,
And þan sylen to sitte vppon silke wedis,
Hadyn wyn for to wale & wordes ynow.

JASON

Then Jason to þe Just King (Joyuely) can say
All the cause of his come to Calcos was þan:
ffor the flammond fles þat fele had desyrid,
He hade wille for to wyn & away lede,
By leue of the lord þat þe lond aght.
After custome to kepe as the Kyng set,
Chethes full soberly & with sad wordes,
Has grauntid godely þat he go shuld,
Soiorne þere a season, assay when hym lyke.
Be þan burdes were bred in the brade halle,
And þo mighty to meite meuit belyue,
With all deintes on dese þat were dere holden;
Walid wyne for to wete wantid þai none,
In grete goblettes of gold yche gome hade.
The Kyng was full curtais, calt on a maiden,
Bede his doughter come downe & his dere heire,
To sit by þat semely, and solas to make.
This maiden full mylde, Medea was callid,
Whan she sought into sale salute hom all,
With loutyng full low to hir lefe fadir.
She was eldist & heire etlit to his londes,
Hym chefet thurghe chaunse childer no mo;
And she at hond for to haue husband for age,
Byg ynoghe vnto bed with a bold knight.
She was luffly of lere & of lore wise,
And kyndly hade conyng in the clene artis:
Þere was no filisofers so fyn found in þat lond,
Might approche to þat precious apoint of her wit.

THE CRAFTE OF MEDEA.

Of nygramansi ynogh to note when she liket,
And all the fetes full faire in a few yeres.
Wyndis at hir wille to wakyn in the aire,
Gret showres to shede & shynyng agayne,
Haile from the heuyn in a hond while,
And the light make les as hir lefe thought;
Merke at the mydday & the mone chaunge,
To clere Sune into Clippis & the cloudes dym;
The Elementes ouerturne & the erthe qwake,
fflodes with forse flow agayne the hilles;
Bowes for to beire in the bare winttur,
ffor to florisshe faire & þe frute bryng;
Yong men yepely yarke into Elde,
And the course agayne calle into clere youthe.
All thies Japes ho enioynit as Gentils beleued,
All thies maistres & mo she made in hir tyme,
Als put is in poisé and prikkit be Ouyd,
Þat feynit in his fablis & other fele stories.
Hit ys lelly not like, ne oure belefe askys,
Þat suche ferlies shuld fall in a frale woman;
But only gouernaunse of God þat þe ground wroght,
And ilke a planet hase put in a plaine course,
Þat turnys as þere tyme comys, trist ye non other.
As he formed hom first flitton þai neuer;
Ne the clere Sune neuer clippit out of course yet,
But whan Criste on the crosse for our care deghit;
Than it lost hade the light as our lord wold,
Erthe dymmed by dene, ded men Roose,
The gret tempull top terned to ground.
This Medea the maiden, þat I mynt first,
Þat gay was in garmentes & of good chere,
And als wemen haue wille in þere wilde youthe,
To fret hom with fyn perle, & þaire face paint,
With pelur and pall & mony proude rynges,
Euyn set to þe sight and to seme faire:
This gentill by Jason ioinet was to sit,
As be comaundement in courtte of hir kynd fader.
Hit is wonder of the wit of this wise kyng,
Wold assent to þat sytting þat hym sewet after,
And his doughter to dresse in daunger of loue,
To sit with þat semely in solas at þe meite.
Syn wemen are wilfull & þere wit chaunges,
And so likrus of loue in likyng of yowthe,
Þis vnwarnes of wit wrixlis hys mynd.
What forthers þi fare and þi false goddes,
And Mars the mighty þat þu mykill trist?
Agayne þe wyles of wemen to wer is no bote.

THE SODEN HOTE LOUE OF MEDEA.

When this mylde in hir maner was at þe meite set
Betwene hir fader and þe freke, þat I first ment,
Hir shire fface all for shame shot into rede,
And a likyng of loue light in her hert;
Hir Ene as a trendull turned full rounde,
ffirst on hir fader, for feare þat she hade,
And sethyn on þat semely with a sad wille;
Smale likyng of loue lurkit in hir mynde,
And she light on þat lede with a loue egh;
ffirst on his face fresshe to beholde,
And his lookes full louely lemond as gold,
And all ffeturs to ffynd fourmed o right.
The sight of þat semely sanke in hir herte,
And rauysshed hir radly þe rest of hir sawle,
Sho hade no deintithe to dele with no deire meite,
And hir talent was taken for tastyng of wyne.
Soche likyng of loue lappit hir with in,
That euyn full was þat fre and no fode touchet
And þat keppit she close in hir clene hert,
That no wegh þat hir waited wist of hir thought;
But hir semblaund so sad was semond to hom.
Mony thoughtes full thro thrange in hir brest,
And þus sho spake in hir sprete if ho spede myght:
“I wold yonder worthy weddit me hade,
Bothe to burde & to bede blessid were I:
So comly, so cleane to clippe vpon nightes,
So hardy, so hynd in hall for to se,
So luffly, so lykyng with lapping in armys;
Well were that woman might weld hym for euer.”
Dissyring full depely in her derne hert,
As maner is of maydons þat maynot for shame,
ffor to languysshe in loue till þere lere chaunge:
Shentyng for shame to shew furth þere ernd,
As þai wylne to be woghit þere worship to saue.
Mony burdys bene broght to þaire bare dethe,
Þat wondyn for wonderfful þaire wille for to shewe.
Whan þe fest and þe fare was faren to the ende,
And burdes borne downe, burnes on fote,
Medea myldly mevet to chaumber
Be leue of þe lordes and þe ledys all.
The Knightes at the Kyng cachyn þere leue,
Intill a chaumber full choise chosen þere way
Be comaundement of þe Kyng, & þe courtte voidet.
Medea the mylde, þat I ment first,
Wox pale for pyne in hir priuy chamber,
In a longyng of loue as the lowe hote,
With a Sykyng vnsounde, þat souet to hir hert;
She compast kenly in hir clene wit
ffor to bring it aboute & hir bale voide.
Thus sho drof forth hir dayes in hir depe thoght,
With weping and wo all the woke ouer,
Till it fell hir by fortune, as I fynd here,
On a day, as the Dukes were ouer des set,
And comynd with the Kyng of Knighthode in Armys,
Chethes for þat semly sent into chamber,
Bade his doughter come doune to hir dere fader:
And sho obeit his bone, & of boure come
In clothes as be-come for a kynges doughter,
And obeit the bolde, and bowet hir fader;
And he assignet hir a seite, þat hir-selfe liket,
With chere for cherys the chiualrus Knightes,
As maner was of Maidones, with hir myld chere.
His comaundment to kepe sho hir course held,
And Joynet by Jason iustly to sit;
And he welcomed þat worthy as he well kouthe:
A litill set hym on syde, & a seet leuet,
ffor to mele with þat maidyn & hir mode here.
The Kyng with other knightes hade comford to speike
Ercules of armes, & auntres to telle
Of chiualry & chaunce, þat cheuyt hym before,
Þat no lede was lelly þo louers betwene,
But þai might say by hom-self all þere sad wille.

MEDEA.

The woman was war þat no wegh herd,
And vnder shadow of shame shewid forth hir ernd,
With a compas of clennes to colour hir speche.
In sauyng hir-seluen and serche of his wille,
“Now frynd,” quod þat faire, “as ye bene fre holden,
Will ye suffer me to say, and the sothe telle?
Voidis me noght of vitius, [ne] vilaus of tunge;
Ne deme no dishonesty in your derfe hert,
Þof I put me þus pertly my purpos to shewe.
Hit sittes, me semeth, to a sure knyghte,
Þat ayres into vnkoth lond auntres to seche,
To be counseld in case to comfford hym-seluyn,
Of sum fre þat hym faith awe, & þe fete knoweth;
This curtysy he claymes as for clere det,
And be chaunce may chere hym & cheue to þe bettur.
I wot ssir, ye are wight & a wegh nobill,
Auntrus in armes, & able of person;
A storre man of strenght & of stuerne will,
That wilnes for to wyn this wethur of gold,
And puttes you to perell in pointis of armes,
And likly for litle your lyffe for to tyne.
I haue pittye of your person & your pert face,
And ȝeuernes of ȝowthe, þat ȝomers in my hert,
Þat causes me with counsell to caste for your helpe,
And put you in plite your purpos to wyn,
In sound for to saile home & your sute all,
Both the whethir & þe wolle a-way for to lede,
On a forward before, þat ȝe me faith make,
In dede for to do as I desyre wille,
And my wille for to wirke, if I wele serue.”

TH[E] ONSUARE OF JASON TO MEDEA.

Jason was full ioly of hir iuste wordys,
And þat comly can clip in his close armes.
He onswared hir onest[l]y opynond his hert,—
“Now louely and leell, for your lefe speche
I thanke you a thowsaund tymes in my thro hert,
Þat ye kythe me suche kyndnes withouten cause why;
And here I put me full plainly in your pure wille,
To do with me, damsell, as your desyre thynke,
ffor this gloriose graunt glades me mekyll.”

MEDEA.

Than saide þat semely to þe sure knyght,—
“Sir, wete ye not the wochis þat this wethir ȝemes,
The keping in case is vnknowen to yowe,
And the truthe of the tale vntold to your ere?
The perlouse pointtes þat passe you behoues,
Hit is vnlike any lede with his liffe pas,
Syn it is gate with a gode & no gome ellis,
And ye may strive with no stuerne but of your strenght nobill.
Wo shuld pas out of perell fro þo proude exin,
Þat with flamys of fyre han so furse hete?
Woso bydis þere bir is brent into askys.
Or þat dragon so derfe, as þe deuyll felle?
There is no gome vnder gode, þat hym greue may.
And if ye highly haue het in your hote yowthe,
And folily be ffaryn out of fer londes,
Ȝet turne your entent, & betyme leue;
Wirkes as a wise man, & your wille chaunge,
ffor þere is doutles no dede but þe dethe thole.”

TH[E] ONSUARE OF JASON TO MEDEA.

The wegh at hir wordes wrathit a litill,
And Swiftly to þat swete swagit his yre.
“A! damsell full dere, with your derffe wordys,
What lure is of my lyfe & I lyffe here:
I hope ye found me to fere & my faith breike;
And if destyny me demys, hit is dere welcum
Or it were knowen in my contry & costis aboute,
That I faintly shuld fle and þe fight leue;
Among knightes accounted coward for euer,
Me were leuer here lefe & my life tyne,
Þan as a lurker to lyue in (ylka) lond after.
I wole put me to perell and my payne thole,
Do my deuer yf I dar, & for no dethe wonde.
ffor yche wise man of wit, þat wilfully hetis
Any dede for to do, and dernly avowes,
Shuld chose hym by chaunce to chaunge out of lyue,
Ere he fayne any faintes & be fals holdyn.”

MEDEA.

Medea full myldly vnto þe mon said:—
“It is playnly your purpos to put you to dethe,
With suche fyndes to fight till ye fay worthe:
I haue pitie full playn of your proude wille,
And I shall fonge you to forther, & my faith holde.
I will shunt for no shame of my shene fader,
Ne no hede to my heale, þat I thee helpe shall;
But this forward to fille, first ye me sweire,
And with no gaudys me begyle, ne to grem brynge;
But in dede for to do, as I desyre wille.”

JASON.

“Moste worshipfull woman, wisest on erthe,
What-euer ye deme me to do, & my days laste,
I hete you full highly with hert to fulfille,
And your wille for to wirke: wittenes our goddes.”

MEDEA.

Þen Medea with mowthe motys þus agayne:—
“And ye wede me with worship & to wiffe holde,
Lede me with likyng into your lond home;
No gatis me begyle, ne to grem brynge,
I hete you full hertely, þat I you helpe shall
The flese for to fecche, and ferke it away;
And withstond all the stoure þat it strait yemys;
Ouercome hom by crafte, and no care thole.
I haue only þat aunter of all þat are quycke,
The mightes of Mars make to distroy,
And hir keping by crafte out of cours bryng.”

JASON.

“Ah! this glorius gyste & this grete mede,
That ye hete me so hyndly to haue at my wille!
(Your-selfe, þat is sothely the semliest on lyue,
And þe fresshist and fairest fed vpon erthe;
As the Roose in his Radness is Richest of floures,
In the moneth of May when medowes are grene,
So passis þi propurty perte wemen all)
And help me to haue þat I hidur seche;
Out of daunger & drede deliuer me too:
I wot me vnworthy þis wirdis to ffall.
He þat sadly for-soke soche a sure proffer,
And so gracius a gyste, þat me is graunt here,
He might faithly for-fonnet be a fole holdyn.
Wherfore I beqwethe me to your qweme spouse,
To lyue with in lykyng to my lyfes ende;
As wyfe for to wede in worship and Joye:
And þis forward, in faith, I festyn with hond.”

MEDEA.

Medea was mery at this mene graunt,
And to þat souerayn full soberly said o this wise:—
“ffrynd, I am ffayne of þis faire heste,
And wele I hoope þu will holde þat þu here said:
More suerty, for sothe, yet I sue fore;—
Yow swiftly shall sweire vppon swete goddes,
This couenaunt to kepe & for no case chaunge.
But this tyme is so tore & we no tome haue,
We will seasse till, now sone, the sun be at rest,
All buernes into bede on hor best wise,
And yche lede, as hym list, lullit on slepe.
I wull send to you sone by a sure maydon:
Bes wakond and warly; wyn to my chamber,
Þere swiftly to sweire vpon swete (haloghes),
All this forward to fulfill ye fest with your hond:
So may ye surely & sounde to my-selfe come,
With daliaunce to dele as your dere wyffe.
I will you faithfully enforme how ye fare shall,
Your worship to wyn and þe wethur haue:
All your gate and your gouernaunse graidly to telle.”

JASON.

The Knight was curtas, & kendly he saide:—
“Most louesom lady, your lykyng be done!
As ye wilne for to wirke & your wille folowe,
In dede be it done, as ye deuysede haue.”
The lady with loutyng þen hir leue tase,
ffirst at hir fadir and other fre buernes,
Past to hir priue chamber: & here a pas endis.