Lydgate's Fall of Princes :: :: University of Virginia Library

Was euer prince [that] mihte hymsilf assure
Of Fortune the fauour to restreyne?—
Lik his desir hir grace to recure
Tabide stable & stonde[n] at certeyne?
Among alle rekne Arthour of Breteyne,
Which in his tyme was holde of euery wiht
The wisest prince and the beste kniht.

To whom Bochas gan his stile dresse,
In this chapitle to remembre blyue
His grete conquest & his hih noblesse,
With synguler deedis that he wrouhte his lyue.
And first he gynneth breefli to descryue
The siht of Breteyne & of that contre,
Which is enclosed with a large se,

Set ferr westward, as ye shal vndirstond,
Hauyng Spaigne set in the opposit,
Of a smal angle callid Ing[e]lond,
Fraunce aboute hym, descryuyng thus his siht,—
With many a ryueer plesaunt of deliht,
Hote bathes [&] wellis ther be founde,
Dyuers myneres, of metallis ful habounde.

Aboute which renneth the occian,
Riht plenteuous of al maner vitaille,
The name of which at Brutis first began.
Londene hath shippis be the se to saille,
Bachus at Wynchestre gretli doth auaille,
Worcetre with frutis haboundeth at the fulle,
Herford with beestis, Cotiswold with wolle,

Bathe hote bathes, holsum for medecyne,
York mihti tymber for gret auauntage,
Cornewaile myneres in to myne,

899

Salisburie beestis ful sauage,
Whete, melk & honi, plente for eueri age,
Kent and Cauntirburi hath gret commodite
Of sondri fishes ther taken in the se.

Bochas reherseth, ther is eek in Breteyne
Found of geet a ful precious stoon,
Blak of colour & vertuous in certeyne
For siknessis many mo than oon,
Poudir of which wil discure anon,
Yif it be dronke (thouh it be secre),
Of maydenhod the broke chastite.

Ther been eke perlis founde in muskel shelles;
And thei [be] beste that haue most whitnesse.
And, as the book of Brutus also telles,
How kyng Arthour, to speke of worthynesse,
Passed al kynges in marcial prowesse;
Touchyng his lyne & his roial kynreede,
Who that list see, in Brutus he may reede.

His fadir callid Vter Pendragoun,
A manli kniht and famous of corage,
Of fals envie moordrid be poisoun;
His sone Arthour, but yong & tendre of age,
Be ful assent of al his baronage
Be successioun crownid anon riht,
Callid of Europe the moste famous kniht.

Curteis, large and manly of dispence,
Merour callid off liberalite,
Hardi, strong and of gret prouidence.
And of his knihtli magnanymyte
He droof Saxones out of his contre,
Conquered bi prowesse of his myhti hond
Orcadois, Denmark and Houlond,

Hirelond, Norway, Gaule, Scotlond & France.
As Martis sone to the werris meete,
Wrouht bi counsail, and bi the ordynaunce
Of prudent Merlyn, callid his prophete.
And, as I fynde, he leet make a seete,

900

Amon[g] his Bretouns most famous & notable,
Thoruh al the world callid the Round[e] Table.

Most worthi knihtis, preeued of ther hond,
Chose out be Arthour this ordre haue begunne;
Ther famous noblesse thoruh euery Cristen lond
Shon be report as doth the mydday sonne;
To Famys paleis the renoun is vp ronne,
Statutis set be vertuous ordenaunce,
Vndir proffessioun of marcial gouernaunce.

The firste statut in the[r] registre founde,
Fro which thei sholde nat declyne of riht,
Be ful assuraunce of oth and custum bounde,
Ay to be armyd in platis forgid briht,
Except a space to reste hem on the niht,
Seeke auentures, & ther tyme spende
Rihtful quarellis to susteene & diffende.

The feebler parti, yif he hadde riht,
To ther poweer manli to supporte,
Yif that thei wern requered of any wiht
Folk disconsolat to bern vp & conforte,
At alle tymes men may of hem reporte,
No maner wise thei do no violence
And ageyn tirauntes make knihtli resistence,

That widwes, maidnes suffre no damage
Be fals oppressioun of hatful cruelte,
Restoren childre to ther trewe heritage,
Wrongli exiled folk to ther contre,
And for hooli chirchis liberte
Reedi euere to make hemsilue strong,
Rather to deie than suffre hem [to] haue wrong.

For comoun proffit, as chose champiouns,
Pro republica defendyng ther contre,
Shewe ay themsilff[e] hardi as leouns,
Honoure tencrece, chastise dishoneste,
Releue al them that suffre aduersite,
Religious folk, haue hem in reuerence,
Pilgrymes resceyue that faille of þer dispence.

Callid in armys seuene deedis of mercy,
Burie soudiours that faile sepulture,

901

Folk in prisoun delyuere hem graciousli,
Swich as be poore, ther raunsoun to recure.
Woundid peeple that languisshe & endure,
Which pro republica manli spent her blood,—
The statut bond to do suich folkis good.

To putte hemsilff neuer in auenture
But for mateeres that wer iust & trewe,
Afforn prouided that thei stood[e] sure,
The ground weel knowe, wer it of old or newe.
And aftir that the mateer whan thei knewe,
To proceede knihtli & nat feyne,
As riht requereth, ther quarelis to darreyne.

A clerk ther was to cronicle al ther deedis,
Bi pursyuauntis maad to hym report
Of ther expleit and ther goode speedis,
Rad & songe, to folk gaff gret confort.
Thes famous knihtis makyng ther resort
At hih[e] feestis, euerich took his seete
Lik ther estat, as was to them meete.

Oon was voide callid the se pereilous,
As Sang Real doth pleynli determyne,
Noon to entre but the most vertuous,
Of God prouided to been a pure virgyne,
Born bi discent tacomplisshe & to fyne,
He allone, as cheeff and souereyne,
Al auentures of Walis & Breteyne.

Among al kynges renommed & famous,
As a briht sonne set amyd the sterris,
So stood Arthour notable & glorious,
Lik fresh[e] Phebus castyng his liht aferris.
In pes lik Argus; most marcial in þe werris;
As Ector hardi, lik Vlixes tretable,
Callid among Cristene, kyng most honourable.

His roial court he did[e] so ordeyne,
Thoruh ech contre so ferr sprad out þe liht,
Who that euer thidir cam to pleyne,

902

Be wrong oppressid, & requered of riht,
In his diffence he sholde fynde a kniht
To hym assigned, fynalli tatende
Be marcial doom his quarel to diffende.

Yif it fill soo that any straunge kniht
Souht auentures, and thidir cam fro ferre
To doon armys, his request maad of riht,
His chalenge seyn, wer it of pes or werre,
Was accepted, to the court cam nerre,
Lik as he cam with many or allone,
Thei wer delyuered; forsake was neuer one.

Ther was the scoole of marcial doctrine
For yonge knihtes to lernen al the guise,
In tendre age to haue ful disciplyne
On hors or foote be notable excersise;
Thyng take in youthe doth help in many wise,
And Idilnesse in greene yeeris gonne
Of al vertu clipseth the sheene sonne.

Widwes, maidnes, oppressid folk also,
Of extort wronges wrouht be tirannye,
In that court, what nacioun cam therto,
Resceyuid wer; ther list no man denie.
Of ther compleyntis fond reedy remedie,
Maad no delay, but foorth anon[e] riht
Them to diffende asigned was a kniht.

Eek bi ther ordre thei bounde wer of trouthe,
Be assuraunce & be oth Isworn,
In ther emprises, and lette for no slouthe,
Pleynli to telle how thei haue hem born,
Ther auentures of thynges do beforn,
Riht as it fill, spare in no maneere
To telle ech thyng onto ther registreer.

Thyng openli doon or thyng that was secre,
Of auentures as betwixe tweyne,
Or any quarel take of volunte
Treuly reporte, and platli nat to feyne,
Them to be sworn, the statut did ordeyne,
No[uh]t conselid of worshep nor of shame,
To be registred reporte the silue same.

903

And to conclude, the statutis han vs lered,
Eueri quarel groundid on honeste,
In that court what kniht was requerid,
In the diffence of trouthe and equite,
Falshod excludid and duplicite,
Shal ay be reedi to susteene that partie,
His lyff, his bodi to putte in iupartie.

Thus in Breteyne shon the cleer[e] liht
Of cheualrye and of hih prowesse,
Which thoruh the world[e] shadde his bemys briht,
Welle of worshep, conduit of al noblesse,
Imperial court al wrongis to redresse,
Hedspryng of honour, of largesse cheef cisterne,
Merour of manhod, of noblesse the lanterne.

Yit was ther neuer seyn so briht a sonne,
The someres day in the mydday speere
So fress[h]li shyne, but sum skies donne
Mihte percas courtyne his bemys cleere;
Oft it fallith, whan Fortune makth best cheere
And falsli smylith in hir double weede,
Folk seyn expert, than is she most to dreede.

Thus whan the name of this worthi kyng
Was ferthest sprad be report & memorye,
In eueri rewm his noblesse most shynyng,
Al his emprises concludyng with victorie,
This double goddesse envied at his glorie
And caste menys be sum maner treyne
To clipse the liht of knihthod in Breteyne.

Thus whil Arthour stood most honourable
In his estat, flouryng in lusti age,
Among his knihtis of the round[e] table,
Hiest of princis on Fortunis stage,
The Romeyns sente to hym for truage,
Gan make a cleym froward & outraious,
Takyng ther title of Cesar Iulivs.

The same tyme, this myhti kyng Arthour
Conquered hadde Gaule & also Fraunce,

904

Outraied Frolle, and lik a conquerour
Brouhte Parys vndir obeissaunce,
Took hem to grace, & with his ordenaunce
Gat al Aungoie, Aungerys & Gascoyne,
Peitow, Nauerne, Berry & Burgoyne.

Cessed nat, but ded his besi peyne,
Most lik a kniht heeld forth his passage,
Gat al the lond of Peiteres & Towreyne,
Ther cites yolde, to hym thei did homage;
To be rebell thei fond non auauntage,
Soiourned in France, as seith the cronicleer,
Heeld pocessioun the space of nyne yeer.

Heeld a feeste ful solempne at Parys,—
Al the contres which he gat in Fraunce,
Lik a prince ful prouident & wis,
Which hadde of fredam most roial suffisaunce,
Of al his conquest the contres in substaunce,
For his princis and barouns so prouided,
Lik ther desertis he hath hem deuided.

To his senescall that was callid Kay
Aungoye & Meyn he gaff al that partie;
To his botleer, was maad[e] no delay,
Callid Bedewar, he gaf Normandie;
To a baroun, nih cosyn of allie,
A manli kniht which namyd was Berell,
Gaff the duchie of Burgoyne euerydeell.

Thus he departid lordships of that lond,
Wher he thouhte was most expedient;
Summe he reserued in his owne hond,
Ageyn to Breteyne retournid of entent,
Sent out writtes, heeld a gret parlement,
Afftir which he made a feeste anon
In the contre Icallid Gloumorgon,

At a gret cite namyd Carlioun,
As [it] is remembrid be writyngis,
Cam many prince and many fressh baroun,
In noumbre, I fynde, that ther wer ten kynges,
Reedi tobeie Arthour in alle thynges;

905

Present also, as it was weel seene,
Ther wer of erlis reknid ful thretteene.

Al the knihtes of the rounde table,
Feste of Pentecost, a feeste princepal,
Many estatis famous & honourable
Of princis, barouns born of the blood roial
Wer ther present, and in especial
Al tho that wern be oth & promys bounde
To brothirhede of the table rounde.

And it fill so, whil that kyng Arthour
As appartened sat in his estat,
Ther cam tuelue sent doun be gret labour
Of olde mene chose [out] of the Senat,
Sad of ther port, demvre & temporat,
Richeli clad, of look and off visage,
Greihored [echon], sempte of riht gret age.

First cunnyngli, as thei thouht it due,
Cause of ther comyng & pleynli what thei mente,—
First of assent the kyng thei gan salue,
Next aftir that thei tolde who them sente,
And ther lettres meekli thei presente,
Concludyng thus, to speke in breef langage,
How the Romeyns axe of hym truage.

Custumyd of old sith go many [a] day,
Whan that Cesar conquered first Breteyne,
The kyng requeryng to make hem no delay.
Arthour abood, list nothyng to seyne;
But al the court gan at hem disdeyne;
The proude Bretouns of cruel hasti blood
Wolde hem haue slay[e]n euene ther thei stood.

“Nay,” quod Arthour to al his officeeres,
“Withynne our court thei shal haue no damage;
Thei entred been and kome as massageris,
And men also gretli falle in age.
Let make hem cheer[e] with a glad visage.”
Took his counsail of suich as wer most wise,
With this ansuere seid in curteis wise:

906

“Your lettres rad and pleynli vndirstonde,
The teneur hool rehersid in this place,
Touching the charge which ye haue tak on honde,
To yiue ansuere rehersid in short space,
Be woord & writyng ye gretli me manace,
How ye purpose with many strong bataille
Passe the mounteyns me felli for tassaille.

It nedeth nat suich conquest to a-legge
Ageyn[es] Bretouns of non old truage,
Of comyng doun your weie I shal abregge,
With Goddis grace shorte your passage.
Mak no delay, but with my barounage
Passe the se withoute long tarieng
To meete Romeyns at ther doun komyng.”

This was the ansuere youe to the massagers.
At ther departy[n]g bar with hem gret richesse,
The kyng bad so vnto his officeeres.
Ageyn to Roome in haste thei gan hem dresse,
Pleynli reportyng the bounteuous largesse
Of worthi Arthour, considred all[e] thynges,
Of Cristendom he passed all othir kynges.

Arthuris court was the sours and well
Of marcial power, to Lucyvs thei tolde,
And how that he all othir did excell
In chuialrie, with whom ther wer withholde
The chose knihtis, bothe yong & olde,
In al Europe, who can considre ariht,
Of al noblesse the torchis be ther liht.

He cast hym nat to paien no truage,
Seide of the Romeyns [how] he heeld no lond,
Which to diffende he wil make his passage,
“Of your cleymys to breke atoo the bond;”
And knihtli preeue [it] with his [owne] hond,
“Ye haue no title, ye nor your cite,
Ageyn the Bretouns, which euer haue stonde free.”

907

With al the kyngdames soget to Rome toun,
Kynges, princis aboff the hih mounteyns,
With Lucyus thei be descendid doun
To meete Bretouns upon the large pleyns.
Arthour[i]s comyng gretli he disdeyns,
Because he hadde, pleynli to descryue,
In multitude of peeple swich[e] fyue.

At Southhamptoun Arthour took the se
With al his knihtis of the Rounde Table,
Behynde he leffte to gouerne the contre
His cosyn Modred, vntrusti & vnstable,
And, at a preef, fals & deceyuable,
To whom Arthour of trust took al the lond,
The crowne except, which he kept in his hond.

Fro Southhamptoun Arthour gan to saile
With al the worthi lordis of Breteyne,
At Barbeflu fond good arryuaile;
He and his princis ther passage did ordeyne
Thoruh Normandie, France & eek Burgeyne
Vp to a cite callid Augustence,
Wher he first fond of Lucyus the presence.

So large a feeld nor suich a multitude
Of men of armys assemblid on a pleyn
Vpon a day, shortli to conclude,
Togidre assemblid afforn wer neuer seyn.
Lucivs hadde on his partie certeyn
Estward the world[e] al the cheualrie
Brouht be the mounteyns doun toward Germanye.

Ther wardis sett, in ech a gret bataile,
With ther capteyns to gouerne hem & guye,
Arture with Bretouns the Romeins gan assaile,
Fond many Sarsyns vpon that partie.
The Bretoun Gaufride doth pleynli specefie,
As he of Arthure þe prowesse doth descryue,
He slouh that day of Sarsyns kynges fyue.

908

The grete slauhtre, theffusioun of blood
That was that day vpon outher side,
Ech ageyn othir so furious was & wood,
Lik for the feeld as Fortune list prouide,
That yiff I sholde theron longe abide
To write the deth, the slauhtre & the maneere,
Touchyng the feeld wer tedious for to heere.

To conclude & leue the surplusage,
In that bataile ded was many a kniht,
The consul Lucyus slay[e]n in that rage,
The proude Romeyns be force put to fliht.
Of gentilesse Arthour anon riht
Leet the bodi of Lucyus be caried
Ageyn to Roome; it was no lenger taried.

The worthi princis and lordes that wer dede,
And manli knihtis abidyng with Arthour,
Lik a kyng solempneli took heed
That thei wer buried be dilligent labour.
And in this while, lik a fals tretour,
His cosyn Modred did his besi peyne
To take fro hym the kyngdam of Breteyne.

So as the stori pleynli maketh mynde,
Modred falsli, to his auauntage,
Entreted hem that wer lefft behynde,
Vnder colour of fraudulent langage,
Gaff hem gret fredam; & þei did hym homage,
That be his fals[e] conspiracioun
Brouht al Breteyne into rebellioun.

Be faire behestis & many freendli signe
Drouh the peeple to hym in sondri wise,
Shewed hym outward goodli & benigne,
Gaf libertes & graunted gret fraunchise
To make Bretouns ther souereyn lord despise.
And purueyaunce he gan ordeyne blyue
To keepe the portes, he shold[e] nat aryue.

Whan kyng Arthour hadde knouleching
Of this fals tresoun and al the purueiaunce
That Modred made, he, lik a manli kyng,

909

Lefte Burgoyne & al the lond of France,
Cast on Modred for to do vengaunce;
Took the se, [&] with gret apparaile
Cast at Sandwich to make his arrivaile.

Modred was reedi with knihtis a gret noumbre,
Made a strong feeld to meete hym on the pleyn,
In purpos fulli Arthour to encoumbre,
At which aryuaile slay[e]n was Gawayn,
Cosyn to Arthour, a noble kniht certayn;
Eek Aunguisel was slay[e]n on the stronde,
Kyng of Scottes, or he myhte londe.

Maugre Modred Arthour did aryue,
The ground recurid lik a manli kniht
(For feer of whom, anon aftir blyue
The seid[e] Modred took hym to the fliht),
Toward Londene took his weie riht,
The gatis shet, & kept was the cite
Ageyn Modred; he myhte haue non entre.

In al haste to Cornewaile he fledde,
The suerd of Arthure he durste nat abide,
List he shold[e] leyn his lyff to wedde;
Yit for hymsilff[e] thus he gan prouide,
With multitude gadrid on his side
Put lyf and deth that day in auenture,
That day to deie or the feeld recure.

In Fortune ther may be no certayn,
Vpon whos wheel al brotilnesse is foundid:
Moodred that day in the feeld was slayn
And noble Arthour to the deth was woundid.
Be which the feeld of Bretouns was confoundid,
Of so gret slauhtre & goode knihtis lorn
Vpon oo day, men haue nat herde toforn.

Afftir the bataile Arthour for a while
To staunche his woundis & hurtis to recure,
Bor[n] in a liteer cam into an Ile
Callid Aualoun; and ther of auenture,
As seid Gaufrid recordeth be scripture,
How kyng Arthour, flour of cheualrie,
Rit with his knihtis & lyueth in Fairye.

910

Thus of Breteyne translatid was þe sunne
Vp to the riche sterri briht dongoun,—
Astronomeeres weel reherse kunne,—
Callid Arthuris constellacioun,
Wher he sit crownid in the heuenl[y] mansioun
Amyd the paleis of stonis cristallyne,
Told among Cristen first of þe worthi nyne.

This errour yit abit among Bretouns,
Which foundid is vpon the prophecie
Of olde Merlyn, lik ther oppynyouns:
He as a kyng is crownid in Fairie,
With sceptre and suerd, & with his regalie
Shal resorte as lord and souereyne
Out of Fairye & regne in Breteyne,

And repaire ageyn the Rounde Table;
Be prophecie Merlyn set the date,
Among[es] princis kyng incomparable,
His seete ageyn to Carlioun translate.
The Parchas sustren sponne so his fate;
His epitaphie recordeth so certeyn:
Heer lith kyng Arthour, which shal regne ageyn.

Vnto Bochas I wil ageyn retourne,
Afforn rehersid parcel of his prowesse,
Theron tabide me list no mor soiourne,
But to remembre the gret vnkynd[e]nesse,
The conspiracioun, þe tresoun, the falsnesse
Doon to kyng Arthour be his cosyn Modrede,
Make a Lenvoye, that al men may it reede.