University of Virginia Library

[T]he answere of Ector [t]o his faders demannde.

“Myn owne lord, and my fader dere,
Benignely ȝif ȝe list [to] here,
After þe force and þe grete myȝt,
And þe somme of naturis riȝt,
Whiche euery þing by kynde doth constreyne
In þe boundis of hir large cheyne,
It fittyng is, as sche doth enspire,
And acordyng þat euery man desyre
Of wrongis don to han amendement,
And to hir law riȝt conuenient;
Namly to swiche þat with nobilite
Kynd hath endewed, & set in hiȝe degre;
For to swiche, gret repref is and schame,
Whan any wrong be do vn-to her name;
For eche trespas mote consydered be,
Iustly mesurid after þe qualite
Of hym þat is offendid, and also,
After þe persone by whom þe wrong is do;
Be it in werre, in contek, or debate:
For gretter gref is to hiȝe estate
To suffre an harme, of cas or auenture,
Or any wrong vniustly to endure,
Or Iniuries compassed of malys,
Is more offence, by discret avys,
To hem þat ben famous in manhod,
Renomed, & born of gentyl blood,
Þan to swiche on þat holde is but a wreche.
Wherfore, we most [gretly] charge and reche,
Only of knyȝthod oure worschip for to eke,
Of wrongis don amendis for to seke,
Oure staat consydered & oure hiȝe noblesse,
And in what plyte we stonde of worþines,
Whan þat bestis, of resoun rude and blinde,
Desire þe same by instynt of kynde.
And for my part, trusteþ in certeyn,
Ȝe haue no sone þat wolde halfe so feyn
Vp-on Grekis avenged ben as I:
For here my trouth, I seye ȝow feithfully,
For Ire of hem I brenne as doþ þe glede;
I thurst her blood more þan other mede;
For riȝt as I eldest am of age
Among ȝour sonys, so am I most with rage
I-fret with-Inne, iustly of knyȝthood,
With my riȝt hond to schede þe Grekys blod,
As þei schal fynd, paraunter or þei wene,
Whan tyme cometh, þe soþe schal be sene.
But first I rede, wysely in ȝour mynde
To cast aforn and leue nat be-hynde,
Or ȝe be-gynne, discretly to aduerte
And prudently consyderen in ȝour herte
Al, only nat þe gynnyng but þe ende,
And þe myddes, what weie þei wil wende,
And to what fyn Fortune wil hem lede—
Ȝif ȝe þus don, amys ȝe may nat spede.
For þat counseil, in myn oppinioun,
Is worþi litel, by discrecioun,
To haue a pris, þat cast nat by and by
Þe course of þinges by ordre ceryously,
What weye þei trace to wo or to delite;
For þouȝ a gynnyng haue his appetite,
Ȝet in þe ende, pleynly þis no fable,
Þer may þing folwe, whiche is nat commendable.
For what is worþe a gynnyng fortunat,
Þat causeth after strif and gret debat?
Wherfor, in soþe, principles are to drede,
But men wel knowe what fyn schal succede;
For a gynnyng with grace is wel fortunyd,
Whan ende and myddes aliche ben contunyd.
But whan þat it in wele ne may contene,
It is wel bet by-tymes to abstene
Þan put in doute þat stant in surete;
For who-so doth hath ofte aduersite.
But humblely to ȝour estat royal,
Of hert I praye, lat nat offende at al,
Þat I am bolde to seie my mocioun;
For in good feith, of noon entencioun,
I no þing mene ȝow to don offence;
But only þis, þat ȝour magnificence
Procede nat of hede wilfully,
Ne þat no spirit ȝou meue folyly
To gynne þing þat after wil ȝou schende,
For lak þat ȝe se nat to þe ende,
Nor taken hede in ȝoure aduertence,
To consydere by good prouidence,
How Grekis han in her subieccioun
Europ & Aufrik, with many regioun,
Ful large & wyde, of knyȝthod most famus,
And of riches wonder plentevous,
Riȝt renomed also of worþines.
With ȝour support þat I dar wel expresse,
Ful perlous is displese hem or disturbe;
For ȝif þat we oure quiete now pertourbe,
Whiche stant in pes, gretly is to drede;
For þouȝ al Asye help vs in our nede,
Ȝif it be lokid on euery part ariȝt,
Þei be nat egal vn-to Grekis myȝt;
And þouȝ also myn aunte Exioun
Ageyn al riȝt be holde of Thelamoun,
It is nat good for hir redempcioun,
To putte vs alle to destruccioun.
I rede nat to bien hir half so dere;
For many of vs, in hap þat sitten here,
And oþer mo, myȝten for hir sake
Deth vnderfonge, & an ende make;
Whiche were no wisdam, liche as semeþ me.
And it may happen also how þat sche
In schort tyme hir fatal cours schal fyne,
Whan Antropos þe þrede a-two schal twyne.
What had we wonne þanne & sche wer go,
But enmyte, þouȝt, sorow, & wo,
Slauȝter of oure men, deth & confusioun!
Wherfore I rede, by dissymulacioun,
With-oute more þat we oure wo endure—
And nat to putte oure silf in auenture—
Þis hold I best—& wirkyn as þe wyse.
But dout[e]les, for no cowardyse
I seie nat þis in ȝoure hiȝe presence,
But for cause I hold it no prudence,
To Fortune, ful of doubilnes—
Sith we be sure—to putte oure sikernes:
Þis al & som, þeffect of al my wille.”
And with þat worde Hector held hym stille.