University of Virginia Library

Search this document 
Lydgate's Troy Book

A.D. 1412-1420. Edited from the best manuscripts with introduction, notes, and glossary by Henry Bergen

collapse section 
expand section 



III. PART III. BOOKS IV AND V, COMPLETING THE TEXT.


563

BOOK IV. Her bygynneth the fourte boke of Troyee.

Howe Kynge Agamenoun and alle the princes of Grece reioyssede the dethe of worthy Ectore, and howe thay sent to Kenge Priamus for to have a trews of two monethes, whil Achilles were made hole of his woundys, and other princes.

Hector þus ded, as ȝe han herd me seid,
And Achilles in his tent I-leied,
With his woundis mortal, freshe, & grene,
Vp-on a morwe, whan þe sonne shene
Enchasid had a-way þe dirke nyȝt,
Agamenoun, þe wyse worþi knyȝt,
In his werkis passingly prudent,
Hath in al haste for his lordis sent;
And whan þei wern assemblid euerychon
With-Inne his tent, to hem he seid anoon:
“Sirs,” quod he, “and lordis þat ben here,
Kynges, princes, and dukis eke yfere,
Ȝif ȝe aduerte by clere inspectioun,
Ȝe owe echon with hiȝe deuocioun,
Hooly of herte oure goddis for to herye,
And inwardly for to be riȝt merye,
Ȝif ȝe considre and wysly taken hed
Þat oure enmy Hector is now ded,
Þat whilom was berer-vp of Troye,
Her ful[le] trust, her honour and her Ioye,

564

Her hool diffence and protectioun,
And vn-to vs deth and confusioun—
Vnlikly euere vs to han had victorie
Whiles þat he floured in his glorie,
Ageyn whos swerd we myȝt[e] not availe.
For slowe he not at oure aryvaile,
Ȝif ȝe remembre, on þe firste day
Þe noble kyng callyd Protheselay?
And after next, ȝif I shal nat feyne,
Patroclus he parted euene on tweyne
In þe felde amonge vs euerychon:
Slowe he nat [eke] þe worþi kyng Menoun,
Archilagus, and also Prothenor,
And eke þe kyng þat hiȝt[e] Alphinor,
Phillis also, and Epistrophus?
And to his ende he brouȝt[e] Ȝantipus;
And Meryon, þe myȝti stronge kyng,
In his weie as he cam ridynge
He slay[e]n hath, and oþer kynges two,
Cedius and Drodius,—also
Polycenes and stronge Polybete,
Letaboma, and þe kyng Philete,
Þe manly knyȝt, þe kyng Isydius,
And eke þe kyng þat hiȝt[e] Hvmerus:
For in his Ire and his cruel tene,
Of worþi kynges he slayn hath eiȝtene,
Whiche hider cam oute of Grekes lond,
By þe power of his myȝti hond.
Now laude and honour to þe goddis alle,
Whiche causid han þat it is be-falle
Þat he is ded, to oure encres of Ioie,
And to discres of oure foon in Troye,
As þei shal fynde in experience,
And laude also, pris, and reuerence
Be to Fortune þat vs hath holp[e] wele
With þe turnynge of hir double whele,

565

To hiȝe comfort and consolacioun
Of vs echon sittynge inviroun,
Þat stande now in parfit sikernes
Þoruȝ deth of hym þat dide vs so oppresse.
And what may þei now waiten of þe toun
But after deth and destructioun,
And hastily for to ende in wo,
Now þat her trust, Hector, is a-go,
With-oute whom þei may not long endure.
Wherfore we may fully vs assure
Oure purpos hool þat we shal acheve,
And finally daunte hem so and greve
Þat vn-to hem it shal be importable,
Of oon assent ȝif we stonde stable:
For her party turneth on þe wrak,
And her hope is fully put a-bak
And dispeired in noon-surete.
For outterly þei and her cyte
Shal mor & mor in were of deth depende;
And we, in soth, shal day be day amende,
With helpe of God, boþe on se and lond:
For now victorie is redy to oure hond,
Voide platly of ambiguyte,
And excludid, at eye as ȝe may se,
Boþe of wantrust & of foreyn drede.
But I counsaille, or þat we procede
Any ferþer vp-on oure foon to ryde,
Prudently a while to abide
And kepe vs clos for to passe oure boundis
Til Achilles be helid of his woundis,
And þan echon, be myȝty violence,
Oppresse hem, whan þei haue no diffence,
As I haue seide, þoruȝ helpe of Achilles.
And lat [vs] now sendyn for a pes

566

For two monþes to kyng Priamus,
Ȝif it so be he list to graunte it vs,
As it is likly, pleinly, þat he shal.
And þei þer-while with flawme funeral
Consvme may þe dede bodies pale
Þat lyen a-brod on euery hil and vale,
Whiche by report of hem þat han repeire,
Fro day to day infecten so þe eyre,
Þoruȝ þe feld engendringe pestilence,
Of stinke þer is so gret a violence;
And we þer-while may in ese and reste
Oure woundis cure, me semeþ for þe beste.”
And þei assent her-to euerychon.
And vn-to Troye þe messageres ar goon,
And han þe trewe graunted of þe kyng,
And be repeired, with-oute more tariyng,
And þer-of made ful relacioun
To þe Grekis a-fore Agamenoun.
And after þat, whan al was at an ende,
Home to his tent euery lord doth wende.

Howe Kynge Palamydes of newe laborde to haue Agamenoun deposyde of þe governance of þe Grekys.

And while þe trewe endureth & þe pes,
Amonge Grekis kyng Pallamydes
Compleineth sore of Agamenoun,
Þat he so hadde domynacioun
Aboue hem alle, havyng þer-at envie.
And on a day in his malencolie,
Of hiȝe despit and indignacioun,
Ful inly fret with Irous passioun,
He gan breke oute, & his rancour shewe
By certeyn signes, þouȝ he spak but fewe.

567

Til on a day wyse Agamenoun
Conceyued hath of hiȝe discrecioun
Hooly þis þing, þouȝt he nold[e] spare
From point to point him silve to declare,
Whan his lordis to-gidre were present,
To-forn hem alle in his owne tent,
As he þat was (þis noble worþi kynge)
Ful circumspect in euery maner þinge—
Nouȝt to racul nor malencolius,
But be atemperance inly vertuous,
Wel avised & wonderly prudent.
Whan þat he knewe þe menynge & þentent
And þe conceit of þis Pallamydes,
He nat to hasti nor to rek[e]les,
But longe abiding, þoruȝ prudence & resoun,
With-Inne þe boundis of discrecioun—
Whos tonge was only of sapience
So restreyned þat no necligence
Of hasti speche, sothly, for no rape
Miȝt make a word his lippes to eskape,
Vn-avised for no þing hym asterte,
But it were first examynd in his herte;
For ay his speche in so þrifty wyse
Conveied was, by doctrine of þe wyse,
Vnder þe rene of wit and hiȝe prudence.
And after þat, by forme of elloquence
Alweye so seide þat resoun went a-forn,
So þat no word was in his tale lorn.
And in þis wyse shewynge his sentence
To-forn alle in open audience,
Seide euene þus, whan þat al was pes,
Vn-to þe kyng callid Pallamydes:

How Agamenon ful worshipfully replyede agaynste the obieccyons of Palamydes, notwithstondynge he resyngned the Empire of þe Grekes to ther owne eleccyoun, as folowthe.


568

“Sothly,” quod he, “ȝif ȝe taken hede,
Me semeth, pleinly, [þat] it were no nede
—Avisely ȝif ȝe list aduerte—
To mvse so nor grucchen in ȝoure herte,
Of al þis hoste þat I haue gouernance—
Wisly considered euery circumstaunce,
How I þe-stat (whiche no man may denye)
Wolde in no maner never occupie
By oþer title þan fre elleccioun,
Nat interrupt by mediacioun
Of brocage, roted vp-on mede,
Ay vnder-meynt with fauour or falshede,
Depict with colour of trewe entencioun
To support swiche false ambicioun:—
Of whiche þing here I wil me quyte
To-fore ȝow alle, þat I am not to wyte
In any wyse of so hiȝe offence,
But stonde clere in my conscience,
With-oute spot of any swiche veyn-glorie
Touchinge þestat whiche is transitorie;
Ȝet neuer-þeles, I haue do my cure,
With al my wit to helpen & procure
Þat euery þing touching þe commovnte
Perseuere myȝt in prosperite,
Havyng þe eye of myn inward siȝt
Vn-to þe estat of euery maner wyȝt
Þat were committed to my gouernance,
With gret labour and besy attendaunce,
Indifferent vn-to hiȝe and lowe,
To helpe and fostre, wher I coude knowe
Þat any stood in meschef or in nede—
Day and nyȝt for to taken hede,
As I best koude, by avisenesse,
Ay dillygent þat nat felle in distresse.
For, sothfastly, who-so loke a-riȝt,

569

Mi daies þinkyng & my wache a-niȝt,
And of myn hert þinly aduertence,
With-oute fraude, slouth, or necligence,
Was feithfully, with al my ful[le] myȝt,
Me to aquyte to euery maner wiȝt
Liche his estat, with-oute excepcioun;
So þat no man iustly of resoun,
Greke nor oþer þat is now a-lyve,
Vn-to my gilt may dew[e]ly ascrive
Any falsehed, engyn, or trecherie
Of loue or hate, favour or flaterie,
In any cause named in special,
But þat I haue ben eliche egal
To oon and alle, with al my besy peyne,
Þat no man hath mater to compleyne
For his party, of hiȝe nor lowe estat.
And to deuoide al rancour and debat
Amongis ȝow, I haue do my dever
In general þing and particuler,
Þat her-toward no þing hath mescheued.
And, God wot wel, it shuld[e] nat agrevid
To my herte taset at any prys,
Ȝow tachose by ȝoure discret avis
Som oþer to þis domynacioun,
And I to haue ben in subieccioun
With ese of herte and tranquillite
Liche oþer lordis here of my degre,
And in my wil fully han obeied—
Like on of ȝow outterly to haue deyed
In þe quarel þat we han vndirtake,
Ȝif destine had it so y-shape,
I seie, in soth, me is ful loth to feyne.
And ouermore, also, wher ȝe pleyne
Þat I was chose with-oute ȝour assent,

570

Merueileþ nat, sith ȝe ne were present;
Nor longe after, ȝif ȝe remembre a-riȝt,
Toward Troye ȝour weie was nat diȝt—
Ȝif ȝe considre, it was after ner,
Or þat ȝe cam, passed ful two ȝer:
And so longe tabide ȝoure commynge,
It hadde ben to Grekis gret hyndrynge,
Passynge harme, and ful gret damage,
And huge lettynge vn-to oure viage.
For ȝif we had, with-outen any wene,
On ȝour comynge taried at Athene,
It likly is—ȝe can nat wel seie nay—
To haue be þere ȝit in-to þis day.
And where as ȝe, þouȝ it be nat credible,
Affermen eke for an impossible,
Þat Grekis shuld in any maner wyse
Dor take on hem any gret emprise
In ȝoure abscence manly to achewe,
It is but wynde, no þinge for to leue:
For so it be to ȝou noon offence,
Þe Grekis han, with-oute ȝoure presence,
Þoruȝ her force on water and on lond
Ful many þing parformed with her hond,
And acheved þoruȝ her worþines.
And of o þing þat in me ȝe gesse,
Þis to seyne, þat of my degre
I shulde in herte so reioisshe me
Of þis lordshipe and þis grete estat,
Þe more to be pompos and elat
In chere or port þat I it occupie—
But me to aquite trewly, & nat lye,
And to deuoide al suspecioun,
I wil make a resignacioun
To-fore ȝow alle, for to excuse me.

571

Now beth avised discretly for to se
Whom ȝe list han ageyn to-morwe prime,
With-oute settynge of any lenger tyme,
Prolonging forþe, or any more delay.”
And þus þei made an ende of þat day,
And went her weye only for þat nyȝt,
Til on þe morwe, þat Titan shadde his liȝt,
At whiche tyme a conseil general
Þe Grekis hilde; but moste in special
Of lordis was þer congregacioun,
As I haue tolde, for þe eleccioun.
And whan þei were al[le] met I-fere,
Agamenoun anoon, as ȝe shal here,
Seide evene þus, with sadde countenaunce:
“Lo, sirs,” quod he, “touchynge gouernaunce
Þat I haue had, and domynacioun,
I haue her-to with hool affeccioun
And clene entent do my besynes
Þat euery þing miȝt in welfulnes
To ȝoure encres perseueren and contvne,
Recorde I take of God and Fortune,
Whiche han conservid, & þe cause be
Ȝou for to floure in felicite,
Þat ȝoure honour and [ȝour] hiȝe noblesse
Stant hool and sounde ȝit in sikirnes.
And while ȝour fame is most in flouringe,
As semeth me, it is riȝt wel sittinge
Myne estat fully to resygne,
Specially while fortune is benygne;
For of so many þat be now present,
I am allone insufficient
With-oute helpe for to bere þe charge—
Men with to moche may ouer-lade a barge,
And nam[e]ly in tempest and in rage—
And sith ȝe bene so discret and sage,

572

Of my berþene late me be releued,
So þat no man þer-with be a-grevid;
But late vs alle of oon entencioun,
With-oute strife or dissencioun,
Chesen swiche oon þat be most acceptable
To ȝow echon, and most couenable,
Ȝow to gouerne by discressioun.”
And þei echon with hool affeccioun
Assentid ben. To speke in general,
Here men may se how it is natural
Men to delite in þing[e] þat is newe:
Þe trust of peple is feint and vntrewe,
Ay vndiscrete & ful of doubilnes,
And variable of hir sikernesse;
Ay awaitynge in her oppinioun
After chaunge and transmutacioun,
Selde or neuer stondyng hool in oon
—To-day þei loue, to-morwe it is gon—
In whom ful selde is any sikernes.
For only now of newfongilnes
Þat hath enbracid her affeccioun,
Þei haue in stede of Agamenoun
Of newe chose, only of fauour,
Pallamydes to ben her gouernour,
And of Grece, liche as þei desyre,
To haue þe septre of þe hool empire,
And to be called, [aboute] in euery cost,
Emperour of þe Grekis host,
Riȝt as to-forn was Agamenoun.
And þis was fyn and conclusioun
For þilke day of her parlement.
And after þat, euery man is went
To his loggynge, home þe riȝt[e] wey.

How Achylles grochyde Agayne the eleccyoun Of Pallamydes, concydred þe wysdam of Agamenoun.


573

But in his tent, wounded as he lay,
Þe hardy knyȝt, þe cruel Achilles,
Whan þat he herd of Pallamydes
Fro point to point, & of þe elleccioun,
He was displesed in his oppinioun,
And pleinly þouȝt, as to his avys,
Agamenoun was passingly more wys
And more discret vn-to gouernaunce
Þan þe toþer, as to his plesaunce,
And seide it was noon eleccioun,
But a maner subrogacioun,
Be-cause hym silfe in þe parlement
At þe chesyng was nat þere present;
Arrettinge it passing gret offence
Þat þe choys was made in his absence,
Wher-with he was of herte inly wroth.
But wher so be þat he be lef or loth,
Þer is no more; but in conclusioun,
In his strengþe stood þe eleccioun.

Howe Kynge Pryamus, with al the worthy of Troyans partye, kame to the felde in his owne parsone to revenge the dethe of worthy Ector, And that same day wrought mervaylis with his swerde.

The trews passid and y-werid oute,
Þe wounded eke recurid al a-boute,
Þe nexte morwe after, Priamus
In his herte was inly desirous
With þe Grekis manly for to fiȝt,
Hectoris deth tavengen ȝif he myȝt—
Þis olde Priam, knyȝtly in þe felde.
Þat whan Troyens in hem silf behilde
Þe grete wille and þe hiȝe corage

574

Of hym þat was so fer ronne in age,
Þei gan reioysshe & pluk vp her herte,
And specially whan þei gan aduerte
His grete manhod and his worþines,
His liflyhed and his hie prowes.
And for his sake euery maner man
Gan armyn hym in al þe hast þei can,
With Priamus þat day to lyve or deye.
And in-to þe felde þei proudly hym conveie
—An hundrid þousand & fyfty of þe toun,
Like as Dares maketh mencioun,
And worþi knyȝtes þei wern euerychon,
With-oute oþer þat with Priam goon—
And al to-forn went[e] Dephebus,
And Parys next, and þanne Priamus,
Menon þe kyng, and worþi Eneas,
And alderlast cam Pollydamas.
And, as I fynde, sterne & ful of pride,
Pallamydes cam on þe toþer side
In-to þe felde with many stronge bataille.
And first whan eche oþer gan assaille,
Kyng Priamus knyȝtly his weye ches
Þoruȝ þe wardis to Pallamydes,
And hym vnhorseth þoruȝ his hiȝe renoun;
And lyke a knyȝt he kylleþ & bereþ doun
Þe proude Grekis, where-so þat he rood—
Was noon so hardi þat his swerd abod:
For so narwe he gan hem to coharte,
Þat her wardis he made a-sondre parte,
On hem he was so fel and furious;
For he þat day dedis meruelous
In armys wrouȝt, þat wonder was to sene,
And a merueille how he may sustene,
Of so gret age, in þe felde tendure;
For incredible was, I ȝou ensure,

575

To sen how he, þoruȝ his grete myȝt,
Þe Grekis put proudly to þe fliȝt.
And Dephebus was also nat behynde
Ageyn his foon knyȝtly, as I fynde,
Taquite hym silfe, & make hem to go bak.
And Sarpedoun, in whom eke was no lak,
I-fallyn is on Neptolonius,
Þe proudest Greke, & most surquedous,
And most famus as of strengþe & myȝt;
Þe whiche ageynward rod ful lyn[e] riȝt
To Sarpedoun, with a spere rounde,
And deliuerly smot hym to þe grounde.
But Sarpedoun, ful Irous in his herte,
With-oute abode on his fet vp-sterte,
And Neptalonye, in his Ire al hoot,
Þoruȝ-out þe þiȝe with his swerd he smot.
And þanne anon þe kyng of Perce lond,
Þat was so worþi & famus of his hond,
Of Sarpedoun whan he taketh hede,
Knyȝtly to hym restorid hath his stede,
Nat-with-stondynge þat Menelaus
Was vp-on hym passinge dispitous,
And with hym eke þe duke of Athenes
Enclosid han amonge þe grete pres
Þe kyng of Perce—allas! it shulde falle!—
And slay[e]n hym, as he amonge hem alle
Ful knyȝtly fauȝt, like a champioun,
With multitude enclosid enviroun—
And he hym silf but allone, allas!
Al destitut in þis mortal cas.
Þoruȝ whos meschef þei of Troye toun
Gan to with-drawe; til þat Sarpedoun
Hath holpen hem to recure her lond,
Ful many Greke kyllyng with his hond.
And kyng Priam, so manly founde at al,
With his sonys called natural,

576

Which vp-on hym, wher-so þat he rood,
Þe longe day manfully abood,
Partyng nat, pleynly, fro his syde—
And as þe kyng and þei to-gidre ryde,
Ful mortally þe Grekis þei confounde;
For Priamus, with many cruel wounde,
Hath slayn of hem many worþi man,
On hors[e]-bak amonge hem as he ran:
For þer was noon þat day, ȝonge nor olde,
Of Troye toun so hardy nor so bolde,
Of noon estat, þat haþ so wel him quitte,
Amongis Grekis wher-so þat he ritte,
Fro point to point to rekne euery þinge,
As hath Priam, þe noble worþi kyng.
For he allone was confusioun
To þe Grekis, and destruccioun,
Her outter meschef and discounfeture,
A-fore whos face þei myȝt[e] not endure;
For þinges two, in his mortal Ire,
Inwardly setten hym a-fyre:
Þe hertly hate þat he bare of old
Vn-to Grekis, doublid many fold,
With þe deth, had in remembraunce,
Of worþi Hector, by contynuaunce,
Þe whiche, platly, þoruȝ his worþines,
With his swerd he shope hym to redresse.
For fret of hate & constreint of his peyne
Wer verraily þilke þinges tweyne
By whiche þat day, who-so loke a-riȝt,
His force was doublid, and his myȝt.
Where-þoruȝ he toke so cruel hiȝe vengaunce,
Þat he þe Grekis brouȝte to outtraunce,
And þoruȝ his knyȝthod put hem to þe fliȝt.
But Grekis þan attonys dide her myȝt,
By assent to assemblen in-to on;
And for a sleiȝte a-syden oute þei gon
In-to a plein, large & fair to se,

577

Betwene Priam and Troye þe cite,
To fyn only in her entencioun
Hym to debarre þe entre of þe toun:
For euery weie þe Grekis han with-set,
Þat þei of Troye hadde þo be let
At her repeire, þe stori telleþ þus,
Nadde þe manhod ben of Priamus,
Þe whiche anon, as eny lyoun stronge,
With his swerd gan riden hem amonge,
And seuered hem, with large woundis wyde,
And slowe al þo þat wold his swerd abide,
Euery-where, endelonge þe pleyn.
And Paris eke hath hem so be-leyn
With myȝti shot of his stronge archeris,
And with þe pursut of his arblasteris,
Þat þei ne myȝt of þe shot so kene
Þe mortal harme abide nor sustene,
But gan anoon [to] flen oute of þe place.
And kyng Priam so narwe gan hem chace,
Þat of nede and necessite,
Þoruȝ þe slauȝter and þe cruelte
Of his swerd, sharpe whet & grounde,
Þer was no Greke in þe feld y-founde
But fled aweye, eueryche to his tent;
And þei of Troye be to her cite went
Be-cause it drowe fast[e] toward nyȝt,
For Phebus had be-reved hem his liȝt.
And so þe honour of þis hiȝe victorie,
Þe worship eke, þe laude & memorie,
Perpetuelly, and þe palme also
Priam þe kyng hath wonnen & no mo
For þilke day, in reles of his sorwe.

Howe Priamus sent to þe Grekes for a trewe, & in þe mene tyme ordeynd þe Cors of þe Kenge of Perce to be burede.


578

And, as I rede, on þe next[e] morwe
He hath y-sent oute of Troye toun
For a trew to Agamenoun,
Whiche granted was þe silve day at prime,
—Al-be þer-of rehersid be no tyme
How longe it last, in þe boke expresse—
Duryng þe whiche þei dide her besynes,
Hertly labour, and inward dilligence
For to ordeyne with gret[e] reuerence
How þat þe cors of þe worþi kyng
Of Perce lond, with-oute more tariyng,
With kyngly honour oute of Troye toun
Shal caried ben in-to his regioun
To be buried with his predessessours,
With oþer kynges, his progenitours.
Þe whiche þing was complet be þavis
Of Alysaunder, þat called was Parys.
And first þe cors, enbawmed richely,
Conveied was ful sollempnely,
As writ Guydo, with an huge route
Of his knyȝtes rydyng him aboute,
Trist and hevy, clad in blak echon.
And with þe char þe riȝt[e] weie þei gon
Toward Perce, ledyng of þis kyng
Þe dede cors toward his buriyng,
Whiche halwed was, lyche his estat royal.
And in þis while þe fest[e] funeral
Was holde also with gret deuocioun
Of worþi Hector with-Inne Troye toun,
Liche þe custom vsed in þo dawes
And þe ritys of her paynym lawes.
Þe whiche fest, as made is mencioun,
Fro ȝer to ȝer by reuolucioun
I-halwed was þe space of fourte-nyȝt,
With many flawme and many hydous liȝt

579

Þat brent enviroun in þe seintuarye,
And called was þe Anyuersarye,
For þat it cam aboute ȝer by ȝer
A certeyn day in her kalender.
In whiche of custom for a remembraunce
Þe peple shulde by contunvance
Pleyne and wepe, & also preie and rede
For her frendis þat a-forn were dede,
Ful pitously with her heer [to-]torn,
Mornyng in blak & knelynge ay a-forn
Þe dede cors of þis worþi knyȝt,
Whiche in his tyme passing was of myȝt.
And þis was doon while þe trew[e]s dure,
So þat Grekis trustly myȝt assure
Whan þat hem list, at good liberte,
With-oute daunger entre þe cyte
Day be day; and Troyens myȝt also
Vn-to þe Grekis frely come and go.
At whiche tyme, with ful gret delyt,
Hath Achilles cauȝt an appetit
To entre and se þe maner of þe toun,
With-oute wisdam or discrecioun,
For to behold, pleinly, and to se
Hooly þe maner of þis solempnyte.

How Achilles first, in the Tempele of Apollo, was smyte with Cupidys darte, in lovynge of Polycyne.

And forþe he went on a certein day
Toward Troye, in al þe hast he may,
Vnarmyd, soth[ly], as myn auctor seith,
With-oute assuraunce or any oþer feith
Excepte þe trew, who-so be lefe or loth.
And first of al to þe temple he goth
Of Appollo: halwed was þe feste

580

Þoruȝ-oute þe toun, doun vn-to þe lest,
Þat clepid was þe Anyuersarie,
As ȝe han herde,—what shuld I lenger tarie?—
And many worþi present was þer-at,
Amyd þe temple, of hiȝe and lowe estat—
Lordis and ladyes, of affeccioun,
From euery part gadred of þe toun.
Now was the cors of þis worþi knyþt
As freshe of colour kepte vn-to þe siȝt,
As lifly eke, and as quik of hewe
To be-holde as any rose newe,
Þoruȝ vertu only of þe gommys swete
And þe bawme þat gan aboute flete
To euery Ioynt and eche extremyte.
And at þis feste and solempnyte
Was Eccuba and ȝonge Polycene,
So wommanly and goodly on to sene,
With many oþer of hiȝe estat and lowe,
To-fore þe cors sittynge on a rowe
With heer vntressid, clad in wedis blake,
Þat euere in on swich a sorwe make
Þat routh[e] was and pite for to sene
How þei pleyne & þe deth be-mene
Of worþi Hector, of knyȝthod grounde & welle.
But trowe ȝe (as Guydo list to telle)
Þat Polycene, in al hir woful rage
I-chaungid hath vp-on hir visage
Hir natif colour, as fresche to þe siȝt
As is þe rose or þe lillye whiȝt?
Ouþer þe freshenes of hir lippes rede,
For al þe terys þat she gan to shede
On hir chekis, as any cristal clere?—
Hir heer also, resemblyng to gold wyre,
Whiche lay abrood like vn-to þe siȝt
[Of] Phebus bemys in his spere briȝt,

581

When he to vs doth his liȝt avale.
And ay she rent with hir fyngeris smale
Hir golden here on hir blake wede,
Of whiche þing Achilles toke good hede,
And gan merueille gretly in his þouȝt
How God or Kynde euer myȝt haue wrouȝt
In her werkis so fair a creature:
For he þouȝt he myȝt[e] nat endure
To beholde þe briȝtnes of hir face;
For he felt þoruȝ his herte pace
Þe percyng stremys of hir eyen two,
Cupides brond hath hym markid so,
For loue of hir, þat in his desire
He brent as hoote, in soth, as any fire,
And after sone with sodeyn colde he quoke,
And alweye fix on hir he hadde his loke,
So þat þe arwe of þe god Cupide
Percid hym evene þoruȝ þe syde
To þe herte, & ȝaf hym swiche a wounde
Þat neuere was lykly for to sounde.
And ay in oon his loke on hir he caste,
As he durste, and gan to presse faste
Toward hir, namly, with his eye,
Þat hym þouȝt he most nedis deye,
But ȝif þat he founde in hir some grace—
Þer was no geyn: for pleinly in þat place
Of newe he was kauȝt in lovis snare,
Þat of helth and of al welfare
He was dispeired in his herte so,
Þat he ne knew what was best to do.
Eche oþer þing, I do ȝow wel assure,
He set at nouȝt, and toke of hit no cure;
His þouȝt was hool on hir & on no mo;
Þe longe day þus went he to and fro,
Til Phebus char lowe gan declyne

582

His golden axtre, þat so cler doth shine,
—Þis to seyne, þe sonne went[e] doun—
Whan Eccuba, quene of Troye toun,
And hir dauȝter Pollycene, also,
Oute of þe temple to þe paleis go;
And ay Achilles on hir hadde a siȝt
While he myȝt, til for lak of liȝt
He may no more haue leyser oportune
To loke on hir, cursed be fortune.

Achilles, in the syght of Polycene, kaght his dethe, and so went oute of þe Tempyle to his Tente.

For whiche in haste he makid haþe his went
With his knyȝtes home vn-to his tent,
Wher he anon, with-oute more tariyng,
To bedde goth, ful trist in compleyning,
Ay in hym silf casting vp and doun,
In his mynde, and eke in his resoun,
From hed to foot hir bewte euerydel.
And in his hert he felt & knewe ful wel
Þat final cause of his languysshinge
Was Polycene, of bewte most passinge:
For loue of whom so moche peine he felte,
Þat with þe hete he þouȝt his hert[e] melte—
Ay on his bedde walwyng to & fro
For þe constreint of his hidde wo,
For whiche almost him þouȝt[e] þat he deide,
And to him silfe even þus he seide:
“Allas,” quod he, “how me is wo be-goon,
Þat of my sorwe know[e] ende noon;
For I suppose, sith þe world be-gan
Ne was þer neuere a wofuller man:
For I þat whilom was of so gret myȝt,
So renomed of euery maner wyȝt

583

Þoruȝ-oute þe world, boþe of hiȝe & lowe—
For þer was noon, in soþe, þat koude knowe
A man in armys þat was more famus,
Nor I-holde more victorius,
To-fore þis tyme remembrid be no stile
In-to þis day—allas, þe harde while!—
Nouþer Hector, pleinly, nor noon oþer,
Of Polycene þat was þe worþi broþer,
Þat power had whan þei with me mette,
For al her myȝt, me to ouer-sette,
Nor in þe felde my force for to daunte,
Here priuely as I me dar avaunte!
But now, allas, a mayde of tender age
Hath sodeinly me brouȝt in swiche a rage,
Þat with þe stremys of hir eyen tweyne
She percid hath and corve[n] euery veyne
Of myn hert, þat I may nat asterte
For to be ded, þoruȝ constreint of my smerte!
For who shal now wissen me or teche,
Or who, allas, shal now be my leche,
Or who shal now helpe me or saue?—
Þer is but deth, and after þat my graue,
For oþer hope, pleinly, is þer noon
Saue in hir mercy, allas, & þat is goon!—
For nouþer prayer, tresour, nor richesse,
Force nor myȝt, nouþer hiȝe prowesse,
Hiȝnes of blood, birþe nor kynrede
May availle [n]or helpen in þis nede
To meven hir, nor my sadde trouþe,
Vp-on my wo euere to haue rouþe!
What newe furie or importune rage
Hath brought myn herte in-to swyche outrage,
Ageyn[e]s whiche I can not debate—
To loue hir best þat dedly doth me hate!—
And, in good feith, who wisly list aduerte,

584

Litel wonder þouȝ she me hate of herte,
Sith I am come hyder fro so ferre
On hir kynrede for to make werre,
In þe whiche, to my confusioun,
Hir knyȝtly broþer, most worþi of renoun,
Haue fatally with myn hondis slawe,
Whiche in þis worlde had[de] no felawe
Of worþinesse nor of manlyhede!
Allas! allas! now may I quake and drede,
And of my lyf fallen in dispeire:
For how shuld I be bold to haue repeire,
Or dorn, allas, comen in hir siȝt?—
I woful wreche! I vnhappy wyȝt!
Or how shal I ben hardy to appere
In þe presence of hir eyen clere?
Certys, I se non oþer mene weye
But finally þat I must[e] deye—
So dispeired I stonde on euery syde,
Of oþer helpe I can me nat prouyde.”
And riȝt anoon, with profounde siȝes depe,
Þis Achilles brast oute for to wepe,
With dedly chere, pale and funeral,
And with his face turned to þe wal,
Þat rouþe was and pite for to sene
Þe hertly furie of his peynes kene.
For so oppressed he was in his þouȝt,
Of lyf nor deth þat he rouȝt[e] nouȝt;
And þis contvneth til it drow to nyȝt,
Þat Titan haþ withdrawe his clere liȝt.

Howe Achilles sent his messanger to quene Eccuba for to have Polycene: wherfor he wolde set þe Troyans and þe Grekes at finale pece.

And euere in oon lith þis woful man
I-liche sike, of colour pale and wan,
With-oute slepe, so fretyng was his sorwe,

585

Til Lucifer, on þe nexte morwe,
To-fore þe sonne, with his bemys clere,
Ful lustely gan for to appere
In þe orient, whan þis Achilles,
Vnpacient, with-oute reste or pes,
Quakynge euere in his feuere newe,
As it was sene, pleinly, in his hewe—
Til he abreide of anguysshe sodeynly,
And called oon þat was with hym prevy,
And of counseil whom he tristeþ wel;
And vn-to hym he telleþ euerydel
From point to point with him how it stood,
And sent him forþe, be-cause he koude his god,
On his message streiȝt to Troye toun
With ful avis and informacioun
Of þis mater to Eccuba þe quene,
Þoruȝ his wisdam for to ben a mene,
Ȝif he myȝt, by his discrecioun,
Fynde any waye of sauacioun
Vn-to his lord, þat he louyd so.
And to þe quene anon he is go,
And his mater wysly gan conveie
To-forn or he of grace wolde preie
Þat she enioieth to ȝeue hym audience:
For in his tale þer was noon offence—
He was no fool, nor newe for to lere.
Wherfore, þe quene goodly gan hym here
Of al þat euere hym likeþ for to seyn—
Þer was no worde y-lost nor spoke in veyn,
For his tale no man koude amende.
[And] Craftely he gan to discende
To þe substaunce, and tolde clerly out,
With premisses ful wel brouȝt about,
Þat finally, in conclusioun,
Þe chefe, he seide, of his entencioun,
Effectuelly, ȝif it wolde be,

586

Was for to make pes and vnite
Atwene Grekis & þe folke of Troye,
To whiche þing he knew no better woye
Þan of þe werre, for her alder ese,
By his wit prudently tapese
Þe mortal strife and þe bitter rage
By allyaunce only of mariage,
Ȝif þat hir liste, þis wyse, worþi quene,
Þat hir douȝter, faire Pollycene,
May weddid be vn-to Achilles,
Wher-þoruȝ þer myȝt be a final pes—
Ȝif Eccuba, by hir discresioun,
Þoruȝ hir wit and mediacioun,
And hir prudence myȝt aboute brynge
Þat Priamus were fully assentynge,
Þat Achilles myȝt his douȝter wyve,
So þat it myȝt parformyd ben as blyue
(Lyke as I haue made mencioun),
By couenaunt only, and condicioun
Þat þe Grekis shal her werre lete,
And suffre him to lyuen in quyete—
Ȝif þe mariage of þis ilke tweyne
Parformed be, and knyt up in a cheyne.

Of the answere of Eccuba, and howe she exortede Kynge Pryamus to þe same entent.

And whan þe quene hath knowen his entent,
Ful sobirly, by good avysement,
To-forn or þat any word asterte,
Ful pitously she syȝed in hir herte;
And, at þe laste, with a sobir chere,
She seide þus to þe messager:
“My frend,” quod she, “touching þi request,
I can no more make þe beheste,

587

But at þe leste I wil condiscende
What lyth in me to bringe to an ende
Þi lordis wil, with al myn herte entere.
But here-vp-on, I muste firste requere
Þe kynges wil, ȝif he wil ȝeue assent
To þe purpos [for] whiche þou art sent;
And, ouermore, I muste wyte also
Ȝif þat Parys be willyng eke þer-to—
Of whiche þing, with euery circumstaunce,
I wil my silfe maken enqueraunce
Ful feithfully of Priam and Parys,
Þe mene whyle, what is her avys,
With-oute more, with-Inne dayes þre,
At whiche tyme come ageyn to me
From Achilles, ȝif he wil þe sende,
And finally þou shalt knowe an ende
Of þis mater, and an answere pleyn.”
And home he goth to Achilles ageyn
With ful glad chere, his lord þe mor to plese;
And for to sette his hert[e] bet at ese,
Avisely, of hiȝe discrecioun,
He hath so made his relacioun,
And told his tale in so þrifti wyse,
As he þat koude his wordis so deuyse
To bringe in hope [in-]to his lordis herte,
With ful reles of his peynes smert,
Wher-by he made his sorwe to withdrawe.
And þus while hope gan [for] to a-dawe
Amyd his brest, Eccuba þe quene
To Priam spak of þis Polycene,
Touchinge þe sonde of þis Achilles,
And of his profre for to make a pes—
She tolde hym al, & for-gat no þinge.

Howe Priamus disclosyde the privite of his conseyte and gruchinge to be allyed with Achilles.


588

Wher-of astonyd, Priamus þe kyng
Spak nat a word half an oures space,
But in hym silfe gan for to compasse
Ful prudently what it myȝt[e] mene,
Þat Achilles wolde haue Polycene
Vn-to his wyf, ay wondring mor & more;
And at þe last, siȝynge wonder sore,
He discloseth þe conceit of his herte,
And seide, “allas! how sore it doth me smerte
To remembre þat I may haue no pes—
Þe grete offence of þis Achilles
Towardis me, pleinly, whan þat he
Slowe worþi Hector, þoru his cruelte,
Þat hooly was vp-on euery side
Þassuraunce, gouernour, and guyde
Of me and myn, platly, for to seyne,
And, þer-with-al, of myn eyen tweyne
He was allone þe verray sothfast lyȝt,
Shelde & protectour þoruȝ his gret[e] myȝt
And his manhod ageyn þe mortal rage
Of Grekis werre in my croked age!
But now, allas, to my confusioun
He slawen is, so worþi of renoun,
Be Achilles, whiche may not out of mynde—
Þat in myn hert I can neuere fynde
To ben allyed with my mortal foo,
Rote & grounde of al my sorwe & wo!
It were ful harde myn hert[e] to apese
To loven hym þat causeþ myn vnese
On euery half, wher-þoruȝ my cruel foon,
Þe proude Grekis, hertid ben echon
Ageyn[e]s me, now fortune is contrarie,
Torned of newe my quarel to apaire—
Þat causeth Grekis, wood and furious,
On me, allas, to be presumptuous,
Only for Hector is me berafte away.

589

But sithen I noon oþer chese may,
Ageyn[e]s herte, þouȝ it for anger ryve,
In þis mater assay I shal to strive,
Þouȝ me be loth, & sitteth me ful sore—
Ȝit to eschewe harmys þat ben more,
Whiche likly ben here-after for to falle,
And for to saue myn oþer sonys alle,
I wil concent þat þis Achilles,
So þat he make a trewe final pes
Atwene Grekis and also þis cite,
With-oute more, pleinly, how þat he
Haue vn-to wyfe my douȝter Polycene.
But list þat he any tresoun mene,
My wil is, first, how-so þat it wende,
Of his beheste þat he make an ende,
Wiþ-oute fraude: þis is myn avis.”
To whiche conseil assenteth eke Parys,
And more rathe, in conclusioun,
For þer was made noon excepcioun
In þis trete of þe quene Eleyne,
Þat Menelaye euere shulde atteyne
Hir to recure ageyn vn-to his wyf—
For whiche Paris, with-oute noise or strife,
Or grucchinge ouþer, vn-to þis entent
With-Inne hym silf was fully of assent,
Þer-by hopynge, with-oute fere or drede,
Perpetuelly Eleyn[e] to possede
Riȝt at his lust, & no man shal seie nay.
And after þis, vppon þe þrid[de] day
Achilles hath, to wyte of þis mater,
To Eccuba sent his Messanger;
And she tolde hym þe answere of þe kyng,
Ceriously gynnynge and endynge,
And how þat he assenteth wel þer-to,
And Paris eke, & she hir silfe also,
Ȝif it so were, pleynly, she hym tolde,

590

Touchinge þe pes þat þe purpos holde,
And firste þat he his heste bring aboute
Þat þei be sure: þanne him dar not doute
Þat he shal haue his purpos euerydel,
Ȝif þat he wirke prudently and wel.
And here-vp-on, with informacioun
Þis messanger, oute of Troye toun,
With-oute abood, in al þe haste he may,
To Achilles helde þe riȝt[e] way,
And tolde him hool þeffect of þis mater.
And he alweie feruent and entere,
In herte brent hoot as any glede,
And saw þer was no waye for to spede
But only pes, as ȝe han herd me telle;
And ay his brest with siȝes gan to swelle
For þe loue of þis Polycene,
And cast a[l]way, a-monge his peines kene,
To his purpos a weie for to fynde.
And whiles he was besy in his mynde
How he shuld his purpos bringe a-boute,
And in hym silf cast[e] many a doute,
Anoon Dispeir in a rage vp-sterte
And cruelly cauȝte hym by þe herte,
Whiche hath hym þrowe in-to swiche a were,
Þat hym þouȝte it nas in his power
His beheste to fulfille in dede,
Excepte he hadde wel þe lasse drede
Euery þing to putte[n] in certeyn,
Wenyng no Greke wolde his lust withseyn,
From his desire to be variable.
And to hym silf þus was he fauourable
For to parforme, and no þing denye—
Al þat was lusty to his fantasye—
As is þe maner of louers euerychon,
Þat þei suppose to acheue anon

591

What þing it be þat þei take on honde,
In what disioint þat þe mater stonde,
Al-þeiȝ it be a verray impossible—
In her foly þei ben [ay] so credible.
And so Achilles trusteth finally
To fulfille his hestes outterly,
Supposyng ay, for his worþines,
For his manhod and his hiȝe prowes,
In whiche he dide hym silfe glorifie
Somwhat of pride and of surquedie,
How þe Grekis shulde be dispeired
Boþe of her trust & her myȝt apeired,
Vp-on Troyens to wynnen any londe,
Ȝif it so were he with-drowe his honde
To helpen hem, and þer-with-al also
Home in-to Grece þat þei wolde go
From þe sege, only for his sake,
And her quarel outterly forsake,—
But it so were þis hardy ferse Achille
With hem abood þe cite for to spille.
For whiche þing þe lordis by assent
Assemblid wern to heren þe entent
Amonge hem alle of þis Achilles,
By þe biddynge of Pallamydes.

Howe Achilles, for the love of Polycene, exortede instantly the Grekis for to take A parpetuale pece with the Troyans, þe which pece he mevyde by many a sotele mene.

And whan þei wern gadrid alle I-fere,
To-forn hem alle, like as ȝe shal here,
Þis Achilles hath his tale gonne,
And seide: “sirs, þat so moche konne
Boþe of wisdam and of hiȝe prudence,
So renomed eke of sapience

592

Þoruȝ-oute þe worlde, and of discrecioun,
And ben so worþi also of renoun,
Kynges, dukis, of whom þe rial name
From est to west floureþ ȝit þe fame,
Boþe of knyȝthod and of manlihede,
To þat I seie, I praye ȝou takeþ hede:
Þis to seyne, ȝif þat ȝe considere
Þe pleyn entent of oure comynge hider,
By good avis and discrecioun,
Had no grounde founded on resoun
Nor cause roted on no titel of riȝt,
Ȝif it so be, þat ȝe lifte vp ȝoure siȝt
And aduerten clerly in ȝoure mynde:
Ful fer abak wit was sette be-hynde,
Prudent lokynge, and avisenesse;
For first whan we, of foly hastynesse,
Toke vp-on vs to come fro so ferre
Ageyn[e]s Troyens for to gynne a werre,
And to iuparde oure lyves euerychon
For þe loue of o man allone—
Ȝe weten alle, I trow[e], whom I mene:
Kynge Menelay, defrauded of his quene—
To telle trouþe, me list nat for to feyne;
For ȝe wel wite, only þat Eleyne
Was grounde & gynnynge of al þis debate,
For whom so many worþi of estate,
Recurles of any remedye,
Life and good han putte in iupartie—
Oure londis left and oure regiouns,
Oure cites eke & oure riche tounes,
Whiche by oure absence stond[e] desolat—
Wives and childer eke disconsolat,
In wo abide, mournynge, & distresse,
Whiles þat we, þe sothe to expresse,
Fro day to day, be-set on euery syde,

593

Lyn in þe felde, and oure deth abide
In sorwe & care, in labour and in wo.
And, with al þis, ȝe wete wel also,
Siþen tyme þat þe werre be-gan,
Of oure Grekis how many worþi man
Hath loste his lyf þoruȝ deþis fatal wounde,
Þat myȝt her-to haue lyued & be sounde
At home in Grece assured wel in Ioye,
Ȝif þei ne hadde comen vn-to Troye—
Þat to remembre it is ful gret pite.
And, ouer þis, I seie also for me,
Amonge Troyens in her cruel mood,
I haue y-lost so moche of my blood,
Þat hath ful ofte made me pale of hewe;—
Þis oþer day, also, grene and newe,
I hadde of Hector swiche a mortal wounde,
With a quarel sharpe whet & grounde,
Aboue þe þiȝe, so kene was þe hed
—Þe same day a-forn þat he was ded,
Of verray hap as it was y-shape,—
Þat fro þe deth vnneþe I myȝte eskape.
Whiche [ȝit] al freshe is vppon me sene,
Large and wyde, and as ȝit but grene,
Þe smert of whiche sore ȝit I pleyne.
And, in good feith, me semeth þat Eleyne,
Ȝif ȝe aduerte wysly in ȝour þouȝt,
With swiche a pris shuld[e] nat be bouȝt,
Wher-þoruȝ oure lyf and oure good y-fere,
And oure honour arn y-put in were,
And dredfully hangen in ballaunce.
For ȝif þat ȝe in ȝoure remembraunce
Conceyve a-riȝt and cast[en] vp & doun
Þe sodeyn chaunge and reuolucioun
Þat fallen hath sith þe werre gan,
Þe slauȝter & deth of many worþi man

594

Þat for hir sake hath here lost his lyf,—
Ȝet þe werst of þis mortal strif
Doth most rebounde [in-]to oure damage,
To disencres and eke disavauntage,
And likly is to encrese more
Ȝif ordynaunce be nat made þer-fore,
And remedie shape on ouþer side,
By fyn only þat Eleyne abide
With hem of Troye, stille here in þe toun.
And late vs cast, by good inspeccioun,
For oure ese som oþer mene way,
So þat þe kyng called Menelay
Chese hym a wyf in som oþer lond,
Lyk his estat be suraunce or be bonde,
Vnder wedlok confermed vp of newe,
Þat vn-to hym wole be founde trewe,
Siþen þat he, with-oute gilte or synne,
May be þe law from Eleyn[e] twynne:
For of dyvos causis ben y-nowe,
Þoruȝ-oute þe worlde of euery wiȝt [I-]knowe,
Of avoutri for þe foule vice.
For to lawe is no preiudice,
Þouȝ Menelay iustly hir for-sake,
Whan so hym list, and anoþer take
Þat shal him bet boþe queme & plese.
And so to vs it shal be ful gret ese,
Whan þe werre is brouȝt to an ende,
Whiche likly is many man to shende,
Ȝif it so be þat it forþe contvne.
Þe grete labour is so inportune,
Þat we ne shal no while mowe sustene:
For þis is soth, with-outen any wene,
Troyens ȝit ben flourynge in her myȝt,
And with hem han ful many worþi knyȝt
To helpen hem, of hiȝe & lowe degre;

595

And þer-with-al, so stronge is her cyte
On euery parte, with-outen & with-Inne,
Þat we ar nat likly for to wynne
In oure purpos, þouȝ we euere abide.
Wherfore, be wisdam lete vs voide pride
And wilfulnes, only of prudence
To han þe eye of oure aduertence
To oure profyt more þan to veyn-glorie,
And while oure honour shyneþ by victorie,
A wysdam is to withdrawe oure hond,
Sith we may nat constreyne by no bond
Fortunys whele for to abide stable.
Wherfor, I rede, or she be mutable,
Þis gery goddes with hir double cher,
Lat vs ȝeve vp swiche þing as liþe in wer
Whiles þat we mow oure worship saue:
For of þe werre þe laude ȝit we haue,
Considered wel how by oure manlyhede
Oure most[e] fo, Hector, is now dede;
And while þat we in oure honour floure,
My counseil is, or Fortune loure,
As I seide er, to chaunge hir briȝt[e] face,
While þat best we stonde in hir grace,
By on assent and oon oppinioun,
With-outen any contradiccioun,
Of hert & wil, boþe of on and alle,
Or oure honour on any party palle,
In-to Grece þat we home retourne.
For ȝif þat we lenger here soiourne
On þe quarel þat we haue longe swed,
Dout[e]les—it may nat bene eschewed—
Ful gret damage—þis with-oute faile—
Or we haue don, shal folwen at þe taile,
Wherfore, best is oure foly vp resigne.
And while oure hap is welful & benygne,

596

Most blaundisshinge, and of face faire,
Þe tyme is best to maken oure repeire,
While þat we stonde, in party & in al,
With oure enemyes in honour perigal
And fer aboue, pleinly, ȝif þat we
Koude han an eye to oure felicite,
While þat is in his ascenceoun.
But list som man wil make obieccioun
Þat we may nat [so] oure honour saue,
To repeire, pleynly, but we haue
Eleyne ageyn, þat is cause of al:—
To whiche þing anoon answer I shal,
Ȝif any man in his fantasie,
To dishonour or to vyllenye
Arrette wolde, in any maner kynde,
We to gon hom & leven hir be-hynde,
Shortly to seyn, I holde it be no shame,
Sith þat we han on as gret of name
As is Eleyne, and of berthe as good,
Amongis vs y-come of kynges blood,
Suster to Priam, lord of Troye toun,
Exyona, whom þat Thelamoun
In kepyng haþ, ȝif I shal nat feyne,
In Troye toun as Paris haþ Eleyne.
And sithe now it may bene noon oþer,
Lete þe ton be sette ageyn þe toþer;
And þe surplus of olde enmyte
Betwyxen vs and Troye þe cite,
My conseil is, for oure boþen ese,
By on assent wysly to appese—
Þis al and som—& þat we hen[ne]s wende.
I can no more; my tale is at an ende.”

Howe Kynge Menelaus, Heleyn-is husbonde, replyede agayns the exortacyons of Achilles.


597

To whom anoon kyng Menelaus,
For verray Ire wood and furious,
And kyng Thoas, þe duke eke of Athene,
As þei þat myȝt no lenger hym sustene,
—To suffren hym þei were so rek[e]les—
Spak alle attonis vn-to Achilles,
Nat only þei, but, þoruȝ inpacience,
Þe court parturbid, with-oute prouidence
With tumult gonne to repreue
Þis Achilles, and proudly hem commeve
Ageyn[e]s hym and hys oppinioun.
And seide shortly, in conclusioun,
Vn-to his reed þei nold[e] neuere assent
Nor condescende to no þing þat he ment,
To be gouerned by hym in þis cas!
For whiche þing anoon Achilles was
So full of Ire and rancour in his hert,
Þat sodeinly from his se he sterte,
And went his way, as he were in a rage,
Triste and pale, and a wood visage,
And shortly seide, for hym list nat feyne,
Þat he ne wolde lenger don his peyne
To helpen hem, how-so þat þei spede,
Ageyn[e]s Troyens, for no maner nede;
And bad anon, þis hardy Achilles,
To his knyȝtes, called Mirundones,
Þat þei no more with spere nor with shelde
To helpe Grekis entren in-to felde,
But kepe hem clos at home with-Inne her tent.
Þus in his Ire he ȝaf commaundement
To alle his men, as ȝe han herd deuise,
Hem to withdrawe at euery hyȝe emprise,
Whan-so-euere þei goon in-to bataille.
And in þis while skarsenes of vitaille

598

Fil in þe hoste of fleshe, bred, & wyn,
Þat many Greke brouȝt vn-to his fyn;
For þei ne myȝt endure for distresse,
Constreint of hunger dide hem so oppresse,
Til at the last kyng Pallamydes,
As he þat was in no þing rek[e]les,
Hath þer-vp-on maked purviaunce,
Remedie, and redy ordinaunce.
And by assent & counseil of echon,
He haþ y-sent wyse Agamenoun,
Þe worþi kyng, to Messa þere beside,
A litel Ile, only to prouide
For þe Grekis, ȝif he myȝt[e] spede
Hem to releue in þis grete nede.
And Thelephus, kyng of þilke lond,
Of gentilnes hath put to his hond,
As he þat was large & wonder fre,
And renomyd of humanite,
To socour hem, commaundinge anoon
His puruyours in al haste to goon
From euery party abouten enviroun
Þoruȝ alle þe boundis of his regioun,
And feithfully to cerchyn euery coste
To take up vitaille for þe Grekis host.
And after þat, ful hastely he made
To stuffe her shippes, pleinly, & to lade
With euery þing þat was necessarie
To þe Grekis, and be water carie,
At request of Agamenoun,
With-oute tariynge or dilacioun.
And so þe kyng, with plente of vitaille
Frauȝt and y-lade, gan anon to saille
Toward þe sege, he & his meyne,
Ay costeiynge by þe Grekysshe se.
Þe wynde was good, & þe kyng as blyve

599

With his navie at Troye dide aryve
In fewe dayes; and Grekis anon riȝt
Of his repeire were ful glad & lyȝt,
Of his expleit and his gode speed,
Þat he so wel hath born hym in þis nede.
And after þis, Pallamydes anoon,
As seith Guydo, is to his shippes goon
For to considre and loken al aboute
Wher nede was, with-Inne & with-oute,
Any of hem to [a]mendyn or repare,
As he þat list for no cost to spare,
In euery þing, with-oute necligence,
Touching his charge to don his dilligence,
Til þe trews fully wern oute ronne,
And þe werris new ageyn be-gonne,
Whiche many man, sothly, dere abouȝt.
And ceriously to write how þei wrouȝt,
My purpose is, pleinly, in sentence,
Vnder support of ȝoure pacience.

Of the dethe of Dephebus, sclayne by the hondys of Kynge Pallamydes with a spere.

Dvring in oon þe dedly cruel hate,
Þat stynte may nor cesse by no date
Atwyxe Grekis and hem of þe toun,
To grete damage and destruccioun
On ouþer part, felyng ful vnswete,—
Til on a day þei caste for to mete,
As þei wer wont, proudly with spere & sheld,
With her wardis entryng in-to felde,
Armyd ful briȝt vp-on ouþer syde,
And embatailled stoute, & ful of pride,
Ful knyȝtly han chose her grounde, & take
Her large baners, with þe wynde y-shake,

600

Til þei to-gidre sodeinly han met.
And alderfirst, Dephebus hath set,
Freshe & lusty, and of herte Irous,
Vp-on a kyng called Cresevs;
And of envie, þe story telleþ þan,
On hors[e]-bake as þei to-gidre ran,
Dephebus first with his spere as bliue
Þoruȝ-oute þe brest euene dide him ryve
Vn-to þe herte, þat he spake no more.
Þe deth of whom Grekis pleine sore,
And for his loue swiche a wo þei make,
Þat al astonied þei han þe feld forsake,
And gan anon vn-to her tentis fle.
Þe whiche, in soth, whan þei of Troye se,
Vp-on þe chas fast[e] gan hem spede,
Vn-to þe tyme þat worþi Dyomede,
And wiþ him eke þe kyng Pallamydes,
Of hiȝe dispit, cruel and merciles,
With twenty þousand worþi knyȝtes alle,
Vp-on Troyens sodeynly arn falle,
And mortally made hem lese her woye,
And to resorte hom ageyn to Troye.
And eke with Grekis, fel & furious,
Þe same tyme cam Thelamonyvs,
Þat hiȝt Aiax, þe stronge knyȝtly man;
And like a lyoun amonge hem as he ran
Vp-on Troyens and hem ouer-sette,
Casuelly in his weye he mette
Cecylyen, lusty, freshe, and liȝt,
And of his tyme a wonder manly knyȝt,
And sone was to Priam, as I rede,
Whom Thelamoun, prikyng on his stede,
Slowe cruelly with his swerde anoon,
Racynge his arme fro þe sholder bon,
Þat he, allas! fil ded in þe feld.
Þe deth of whom whan Dephebus behelde,

601

Woder anon þan tigre or lyoun,
With a spere ran to Thelamoun,
And smet hym so þoruȝ his platis briȝt,
Of verray force þat he made hym liȝt,
And lese his sadel, be-set amonge þe pres.
Þe whiche strok, whan Pallamydes
Behelde & sawe, & clerly gan aduerte,
Irous & wood, with a furious herte
Caste hym anoon tavenge Thelamoun
On Dephebus, ful worþi of renoun,
And mortally his guerdoun hym to quyte;
And with a spere, grounde for to byte,
Sharpe & kene, large, rounde, & square,
Ful cruelly, or þat he was ware,
Þoruȝ his harneis, with-oute more arest,
Dephebus he smote so in þe brest,
Þat with þe strok he brake þe shafte a-two,
So þat þe tronchoun & þe hed also
Left in his brest, þat þer was no weye,
Finally, but þat he muste deye—
Þer was noon helpe nor remedie at al;
Þe wounde was so cruel and mortal,
Þat with þe lyf he myȝt[e] nat abyde.
And in þis while, Parys cam be-side,
Of auenture, while þis Dephebus
Was of his wounde so inly anguysshous,
And gan in hast for taprochen ner,
With face pale and [riȝt] an heuy cher,
And for distresse wepte pitously,
And his knyȝtes commandid hastily,
His wounded broþer oute a-syde fere
In al haste þat þei shulde bere,
Oute of þe wardis fro þe grete pres,
Vn-to his peyne for to do reles,
For tabreþe hym at leyser, or tavente
In open eyr. & þei vn-to hym wente,

602

Maugre þe Grekis, wher he wounded was,
And bare hym oute a ful esy pace
Toward þe wallis, fast[e] by þe toun,
And with gret dool and lamentacioun
Ful soft[e]ly on þe grounde hym layde,
Til at the laste þis dedly man abreyde,
With mortal loke and face funeral,
And chere pitous, so þat eche bal
Gan turnen vp of his dedly eye,
And euene þus to Paris he gan seie:

Dephebus requirede his brother Parys to revenge his deth vpone Kynge Pallamydes.

“O broþer myn, whom þat I louede so,
Haue now pite & rewe vp-on my wo
Of kyndenes and of broþerhede,
And to my wordis of rouþe take now hede,
Sith we be deth muste asonder twynne;
For Antropos shal no lenger spynne
My lyues þrede, but þe knot[te] breke.
Wherfor, broþer, I praye þe be wreke
Vp-on my deth, or I hen[ne]s pace,
Ȝif þat þou list [to] do me swiche a grace
Of kyndenes, ȝet or I be ded,—
Out of my brest or þis speris hed
Be rent a-wey, þat þou avenged be
Vp-on my fo, as I trust in þe,
Þat I may wyte he be ded or I,
And þat his spirit passe finally,
And first descende depe doun in helle,
Eternally with Pluto for to dwelle,
Mid his boundis, þat dirke ben & lowe.
For, finally, so þat I may knowe
Þat he be ded—þer is no more to seie,
I gif no fors how sone þat I deie.”

603

To whos requeste Paris toke good hede,
And in þe feld fast[e] gan hym spede,
For þouȝt & wo pitously wepynge,
While his broþer lay þer languysshinge,
Nat awayting but only after deth,
Vp-on þe point to ȝelden vp þe breth.
And with his knyȝtes Paris vp & doun
Þe wardis souȝt aboute[n] enviroun,
Til at þe last Pallamydes he fond
With Sarpedoun fiȝtynge hond of hond.
Now was þis kyng, þis worþi Sarpedoun,
Come in diffence of hem of Troye toun,
Whiche of his hond was a noble knyȝt.
And while þat he with al his ful[le] myȝt
Most besy was Pallamydes topresse,
Liche a lyoun whetted wiþ woodnes,
Pallamydes, in hert[e] nat aferd,
Lete fleen at hym with his sharpe swerd
So myȝtely, þat it was a wonder;
For he his þiȝe partid hath a-sonder,
And smote it of by þe harde boon,
Þat Sarpedoun fil doun ded anoon—
So þat Troyens, whan þat he was slawe,
Were compelled of force hem to with-drawe,
Þoruȝ þe pursut of kyng Pallamydes
Whiche vp-on hem was so mercyles,
And as cruel as a wood lyoun,
After þe deth of worþi Sarpedoun.
Þe whiche, allas, whan Paris did espie,
He markid hym with a cruel eye,
And hent a bowe þat passingly was stronge,
And with an arwe to his tiler longe,
Entoxycat with venym in þe hed,
Þat whom he smot þer-with was but ded,
And hitte hym so in þe aventaille,

604

Þoruȝ-oute þe stuf and þe þikke maylle
In-to his þrote þat it gan þoruȝ pace,
Þat he fil ded in þe silve place,
Pallamydes, þis manful worþi knyȝt.
Wher-þoruȝ Grekis toke hem to þe fliȝt,
And made a noyse and a woful crye,
Þe deth compleynyng wonder pitously
Of her lord and myȝty gouernour,
But late chose to ben Emperour,
Her chefe socour and souereyn refut.
But now, allas! þei stonde destitut
Of gouernaunce, broke & disaraied,
With-oute guyde, riȝt as shepe dismayed,
Disconsolat & confortles y-shent,
Þat eche of hem fleth vn-to his tent.
And þei of Troye suede on þe chas
On hors[e]-bak a wonder huge pas,
And mercyles slowe þem as þei fle,
On euery side, þat rouþe was to se,
With-oute pite or any oþer grace:
For lyke lyouns þei gan hem enchase
Til þei, compelled of necessite,
Constreyned wern þoruȝ her cruelte
To turne ageyn & hem silfe defende.
And þei of Troye doun anoon descende
Of hors[e]-bak, euene vp-on þe pleyn;
And alle attonys—þer was non oþer geyn—
Þei gan þe Grekis proudly to outraye,
And cruelly so to dis[a]maye,
Þat finally þer geyneth no diffence,
So mortal was þe myȝti violence
Of Troyens, þat Grekis so diffoille;
And aldirlast at leiser þei dispoille
Þe Grekis tentis of gold and richesse.
At whiche tyme Troylus gan hym dresse,
And Parys eke doun to her navie
With þritty þousand in her companye,

605

Kyllynge alle þo, pleynly, þat þei mette,
And on her schippes wylde fire þei sette,
Þat to þe wallis of Troye þe cyte
Men myȝt[e] [wel] þe hydous flawme se.
And all hadde gon to destruccioun,
Nadde Aiax, y-called Thelamoun,
Þoruȝ his manhod and knyȝtly excellence
Come anon and maked resistence
Of þe Grekis, with many worþi knyȝt.
And þo of newe be-gan þe mortal fiȝt
A-twen Troyens and þe Grekis stoute,
Þe rede blood raylyng al aboute
Vp-on þe pleyn, so hydous[ly] þei blede;
And here & þere, boþe in lengþe & brede,
Ded & maymed, and ful pale of siȝt,
Vp-on þe soyle lay many noble knyȝt,
Atwixen hem so cruel was þe hate:
For in her fiȝt to-gidre þei debate
As wylde boris, evene so þei fare,
For non of hem list oþer for to spare.
And in þe felde worþi Thelamoun
Þoruȝ his knyȝthod & his hiȝe renoun
So manly bare hym Grekis to diffende,
Þat no man myȝt in manhod him amende,
Þoruȝ al þe worlde þouȝ men had[de] souȝt;
For he þat day in his person hath wrouȝt
Merueille in armys, þoruȝ his gret[e] myȝt,
Þat, in sothnes, Grekis anoon riȝt
With-outen hym hadde finally be shent,
And her shippes attonys lost & brent,
Þoruȝ þe pursut of Paris þilke day,
And worþi Troylus, þat made swiche affray
Amonge[s] hem þoruȝ his hiȝe prowes,

606

Þat fifty shippes, Guydo doth expresse,
Wer lost & brent or þat Thelamoun
To reskuse cam with his knyȝtes doun
Vn-to þe se, þe remenaunt for to save.
But for al þat, Troyens þat day haue
Þe hiȝer hond of þis mortal fiȝt,
Þoruȝ þe force and þe grete myȝt
Of Troylus only, whiche hath so many slayn
Of þe Grekis, in soþ, þat þei were fayn
Hem to withdraw, and þe felde to lete,
For in abidyng þei fond ful vnswete.

Howe þe Kynge of Trace kam to þe tente of Achile, and exortyd hym to take the felde.

Wherfore, þei gan for to lese her place,
Amonge whiche þe kynges sone of Trace,
Þat Heber hiȝte, wounded to þe deth,
Þat he myȝt vnneþe drawe his breth,
With a spere in his brest stikynge,
To Achilles he cam in compleynyng
Vn-to his tent, euene þere he lay,
Whiche in þe feld was nat al þat day
For the sake only of Polycene,
Þe love of whom was so sharpe & kene,
Ay at his hert, y-liche grene and newe.
To whom Heber, with a mortal hewe,
Compleyneth sore, arettynge cowardyse,
And in manhod a verray trowandyse,
Þat he þat day myȝt[e] so—for shame!—
Withdrawen him, in hyndering of his name,
Out of þe feld, to hym ful gret repref,
Of þe Grekys seyng þe meschef
Þat þei wern In, and confusioun,
Vp-on þe brinke of her perdicioun—

607

Abrod þe feld to sen hem so lye dede,
And list not onys for to taken hede
Of his knyȝthod Grekis to releue.
And while Heber gan hym þus repreve,
And þe spere whiche in his body was
Al sodeynly was drawen oute; allas!
With eye vp-cast in rancour and in Ire,
Ful pitously Heber dide expire
In þe presence of þis Achilles.
And þer-with cam in a sodeyn res
In-to his tent a certeyn knyȝt of his,
Of whom Achilles axeþ how it is
Amonge Grekis, & clerly how it stood.
And he answered, ful Irous in his mood:
“Certis,” quod he, “ful vnhappily;
For þei of Troye han so cruelly
Oure Grekis alle þis day in her fiȝt
Ful shamefully put vn-to þe fliȝt,
So many slayn—allas & wellawaye!—
Þat vnneþe noon ne went away
Vn-hurt-maymed, or with-oute wounde,
So fel on vs Troyens were y-founde.
And of hem eke was swiche a multitude,
Þat I suppose, shortly to conclude,
Þis day þer nas, to myn oppinioun,
Nat left a man with-Inne Troye toun
Þat able was to stonden in bataille,
With spere or swerd his enmy to assaille,
I wene, in soth, but þei comen oute
With vs to fiȝt,—þer was so huge a route
Þat we ne myȝt of force take on honde
In þe feld ageyn[e]s hem to stonde.
But now, my lord, it draweþ vn-to nyȝt,
Þat þei be feynt any more to fiȝt,—
Ȝif it were plesyng to ȝour worþines,
To ȝour manhod & ȝoure hiȝe noblesse

608

To take on ȝou to ȝoure encres of fame,
For euere-more to ȝete ȝou a name,
And þer-with-al for ȝoure owne glorie,
Perpetuelly to ben in memorie,
To rysen vp and arme ȝow anoon,
And sodeinly [vp-]on hem to goon,
Feble and weyke to make resistence
Ageyn ȝoure manly famous excellence,—
Þer wer no more, but we wer victours
For euere-more, and verray conquerours,
Durynge þe world to ben in remembraunce,
And þei for euere brouȝt vn-to outra[u]nce—
In sothfastnes, I haue of hit no drede.”
But Achilles toke of hym noon hede,
Nor to Heber þat lay aforn hym ded,
Ful colde and starke, of colour like to led,
Nor onys list to ȝeve hym audience,
Nor vn-to hym han his aduertence—
Þer may no word in his hert[e] myne
To þat he seide to maken him enclyne:
For, outerly, evene like he ferde,
As þouȝe he no maner worde ne herde;
For þoruȝ his eris it passed as a soun.
Lo, here þe maner and condicioun,
Þe verray custom & þe pleyn vsaunce
Of þis loveris, hangyng in a trance:—
Honour, worship, manhod, & prowes,
Strengþe, myȝt, fame, and hardines,
Encres of name, vertu, and victorie,
Knyȝthod, noblesse, and in armys glorie—
Alle þese can Loue leyn a-syde:
Swiche is þe myȝt of þe god Cupide,
Whiche hertis hiȝe with his hok can sese—

609

So loth þei arne, pleynly, to displese
Ouþer in cher or in contenaunce,
In wil or dede or disobeisaunce
To hir þat is her souereyn lady dere.
For, with a loke of hir eyen clere,
She can ful wel daunte[n] al her pride:
For Venus sone so felly can prouyde
His arwys kene to perce nerf & veyne,
And hem enlacen in his firy cheyne,
Þat only þoruȝ his importable charge
Þei ben restreyned for to gon at large;
Whiche cause was þis day, dout[e]les,
Þat þis noble hardy Achilles
Wolde nat, with-outen any wene,
Come in þe feld, for drede of Polycene,
List þat she were offendid in hir herte
Ȝif any þing eskaped or asterte
Þis Achilles, þoruȝ mysgouernaunce.
And whiles he henge þus in balaunce,
Þe Grekis fauȝt with hem of þe toun
Til briȝt Phebus was at goynge doun,
Þat Troyens, of necessite,
For lak of lyȝt entre þe cyte.
And while þat þei homward be repeired,
Lay Dephebus, of his lyf dispeired,
Compleynynge ay on his dedly wounde.
And whan Paris & Troylus han hym founde
In þat meschef, þei gan wepe & crye,
As þei wolde for verray rouþe dye,
With woful noyse and with pitous soun:
Þe salt[e] teris gan to renne doun
On her chekis vp-on ouþer syde;
And whiles þei vppon hym abide,
Þis wounded man gan drawe to his ende,

610

Whos spirit was redy for to wende
Out of his brest, & his wery gost,
Ful hastely in-to an oþer coste,
With dedly eyen turned vp-so-doun.
Whan þat he knewe by relacioun
Þat Paris hath Pallamydes y-slawe,
Anoon he bad þat þei shulde out drawe
Þe large tronchoun with þe stelen hed;
And þer-with-al anoon he fil doun ded.
And with þe cors þei gan hem fast[e] spede
Toward þe toun: but for it is no nede
Þe dool to write and lamentacioun
Þat maked was for hym and Sarpedoun
Þoruȝ þe cite, &, namly, of þe king
And of þe quene, euere in on wepynge,
Of his breþren and his sustres dere,
It were but veyne to rehersen here.

How Priamus burede Dephebus and Sarpedone, and howe the Grekes choyes Agamenon Emperoure.

But Priam hath with gret[e] dilligence
Twey tombes made, of royal excellence,
For Dephebus and kyng Sarpedoun,
With many ymage graven inviroun,
And many knotte korven here & ȝonder,
And buried hem but a litel assounder,
Lyke þe custom of her rites olde.
And whiles þei þe feste halwe & holde
Þat called is þe feste funeral,
Þe Grekis han do made in special
A riche tombe to þe worþi kyng
Pallamydes, and for his buriyng
Solempnely maked ordynaunce
Amonges hem, as it was vsaunce;
And with gret dool & pitous heuynes

611

Þei han þis kyng of gret worþines
Rially brouȝt to his sepulture.
And for þei myȝt longe nat endure
With-oute an hed and a gouernour,
Þei chosen han to her Emperour,
By on assent and affeccioun,
Þe worþi kyng, wyse Agamenoun.
And after [þat] þei made no lettynge,
—Þei of Troye—þe nexte day suynge,
With her wardis in-to þe feld to goon,
Fully purposed to fiȝt[e] with her foon;
And Grekis manly in þe face hem mette.
But worþi Troylus so hem ouersette,
Þat Greke was noon, shortly for to telle,
Þilke day a-forn hym myȝt[e] dwelle,
So cruelly he gan hem for to chase:
For where he cam or rode in any place,
Þei fled his swerd, of her lif in doute,
His ȝonge knyȝtes rydynge hym aboute,
Swyche as he was vsant for to lede;
And euere in oon þe Grekis blod þei shede,
Whiche lyke a streme disteyned al þe pleyn.
And al þis while was so huge a reyne,
Þe same day, and so huge a myst,
Þat euery man hath his felawe myst,
Specially vp-on þe Grekis syde:
Þat for þe storme and her woundes wide,
And for þe manhod of þis Troyan knyȝt,
Worþi Troylus, so ȝong, so freshe & lyȝt,
Þei were coact, þoruȝ his cruelte,
Maugre her myȝt, for drede of deth to fle
To her tentis socour for to fynde,
Troyens ay pursuyng be-hynde
Ful mortally, with a sterne pas;
But for þe storme þei cessen of þe chas,

612

And home repeire to her cyte strong.
Til on þe morwe, þat þe larke songe,
Þat Troylus eft, most manly in bataille,
Þe Grekis new cast hym for tassaille;
And Guydo writ, þis ȝonge champioun,
Þilke day as he rod vp and doun
Amonge his foon, þoru his hiȝe renoun—
Þat þere nas kyng, duke, erle nor baroun,
With his swerd, where-so þat he wende,
Þat of her lyf he made a mortal ende,
Al þe while þat Phebus gaf his lyȝt;
Til at þe laste þat it drowe to nyȝt,
Þat he to Troye repeireth manfully.
And sevene dayes, suynge by and by,
Þis lif he ladde, with his knyȝtes felle,
Vp-on Grekis, as Guydo can ȝow telle;
Ay newe & newe he gan hem so confounde,
His cruel swerd was so kene grounde,
Þat þei ne myȝt in his mortal tene
Aforn his siȝt abide nor sustene,
Nor þe vengaunce þat he on hem toke:
For where he rod þe weye þei forsoke,
In his traas þe rengis were so rede
Of hem, in soth, þat in þe feld lay dede.
For whiche slauȝter and confusioun,
Þe Grekis newe sent[e] to þe toun
For a trew to Priamus þe kyng;
And he anoon graunted her axyng
For two monþes, fully be thassent
Of alle þe lordis of his parlement.
Wher-of þei made ful relacioun—
Thenbassatours—to Agamenoun;
And to her loggyng after furþe þei went.
But how þat he vn-to Achilles sent
Þe mene while his messageris wyse,
So as I can, I shal anoon deuyse.

613

Achilles kept his Tent, and in no wyes wolde fight agayns þe Troians, for þe love of Polycene; for the which, Agamenon, with þe princes of Grece, kam to viset hym in his tent.

Agamenoun, as Guydo list endyte,
His lordis sent Achilles to visite
For certeyn causes, like as ȝe shal here,
Whiche in þe story be rehersid here.
And with Vlixes and worþi Diomede,
Duke Nestor went, pleynly, as I rede,
To fyn only, by her conseillynge
In-to his hert þat þei myȝt[e] bringe
And induce hym to han a fantasie
To be willy, þoruȝ his chiualrie,
With hem to stonde as he haþ do to-forn,
Þat han so many of her men y-lorn
For lake only of his [hiȝe] presence.
And Achilles with digne reuerence
Reseyved hem, & with riȝt knyȝtly chere.
And after þat, whan þei wer set y-fere
Like her degre anoon in audience,
Wyse Vlixes, ful of elloquence,
Gan his tale prudently deuyse,
To Achilles seyinge in þis wyse:

Vlixes taile to Achile.

“Sir Achilles, most renomed of glorie,
Þoruȝ-oute þe world to ben in memorie,
And of knyȝthod verray sours & welle,
Displese it nat, now þat I shal telle
To ȝoure noble famous excellence,
Nor to ȝour eris late be noon offence
Þat I shal seyn, but of goodlyhede,

614

Paciently þat ȝe wil take hede
To my wordes, seide of hert and þouȝt,
I ȝow ensure, for I feyne nouȝt;
Þis to seyn, ȝif ȝe remembre wel,
Þe first[e] cause and purpos euerydel
Of þe Grekis—ȝif ȝe haue mencioun—
Was fully set by oon entencioun,
As wel of ȝow as of vs, parde,
Whan we cam firste to þis cite,
Kynges, princes, I excepte noon,
—Of whiche, in soth, to rekne euerychon,
Ȝoure-silf[e] was, to speke in special,
On of þe first & most principal—
Assentid ful how Troye þe cite
Þoruȝ oure manhod distroied shuld[e] be—
Perpetuelly brouȝt vn-to ruyne.
But now of new, I not what doth enclyne
Ȝoure worþines sodeinly to varie,
An[d] to oure purpos for to be contrarie:
Considerid first of ȝow þat ben so sage
Þe wronges done & þe gret damage
In Grekis lond of hem of þe toun,
Conspirynge ay to oure distruccioun
—Ȝif ȝe aduerte wysly in ȝoure þouȝt—
Þat slay[e]n han and to an ende brouȝt
Ful many worþi, siþen go ful ȝore,
And of tresour, þat no man may restore,
Dispoiled vs, & brouȝt in gret distresse,
Oure goodes rauȝt, oure gold & oure richesse,
Oure shippes brent, þoruȝ her cruelte!
And to al þis, allas, ȝe list nat se,
Now þat þei ben (whiche may not be delaied)
Þoruȝ ȝour manhod finally outtraied,
Sith ȝe han slayn her hope, her suffisance,
Hector, in whom was al her affiaunce,
Fully her trust and diffence also,

615

And Dephebus also is ago,
And likly arn more to ben appaired
Fro day to day, and finally dispeired,
So frowardly Fortune on hem lowreth:
And now ȝoure honour & ȝour fame floureth
In his worship, and ȝoure hiȝe renoun
Atteyned hath the exaltacioun
And hiȝest prikke of Fortunys whele,
It were gret wronge, and ȝe loke wele,
Of wilfullnes for to ben vnkynde
To hir þat ȝe so frendly to ȝou fynde,
Or to be froward while she is benygne,
By influence graciously tassygne
Hir spokes meue vn-to ȝoure plesaunce,
And hap to tourne with plente on ȝour chaunce,
After whos help ȝou nedeþ nat to calle.
Wherfore, allas, whi wil ȝe suffer passe
Ȝoure noble fame, of verray wilfulnes,
While it is hiest in his worþines?
Ȝoure knyȝtly prudence it shold not asterte!
Of whiche þing euery gentil herte
Sholde haue rouþe and compassioun.
Wherfore we praie, of discrecioun,
Þat ȝe ȝou shape þis purpos to amende,
And þat ȝe wolde of hert[e] condescende
With vs to stonde knyȝtly in þis werre,
By ȝoure manhod, þat is spoke of so ferre,
Þat ȝour renoun to þe worldis ende
Reported be, wher-so þat men wende,
Perpetuelly, by freshnes of hewe
Day by day to encrese newe,
Þat þe triumphe of þis hiȝe victorie
Be put in story and eke in memorie,
And so enprented, þat forȝetilnes
No power haue by malis to oppresse

616

Ȝoure fame in knyȝthod, dirken or difface,
Þat shyneth ȝit so clere in many place
With-oute eclipsynge, sothly, þis no les—
Whiche to conserve ȝe be now rek[e]les,
Of wilfulnes to cloude so þe lyȝt
Of ȝoure renoun þat whilom shon so briȝt,
Ȝoure myȝty hond of manhood to withdrawe.
Considred first how Grekis arn y-slawe
To-fore ȝoure tent, with mortal woundis wide,
Þoruȝ-oute þe feld vp-on euery side,
And haue disdeyn, only for lak of rouþe,
—Allas þe while!—for a litel slouþe
To leie to hond in her meschef at al,
Þat whilom wern her stronge myȝty wal,
Her chef diffence and her champioun,
Souereyn helpe and proteccioun,
For whom ȝe han so ofte shad ȝoure blood,
Ageyn her foon with hem whan ȝe stood,
Ful myȝtely her enmyes to assaille,
With-oute whom þei litel may availle,
In verray soth,—ne noon of vs echon,
But ȝe of knyȝthod list with vs to goon
Ageyn Troyens as ȝe wer wont to do,
As is oure trust and final hope also,
Þat ȝe shal helpe and oure socoure be.
And her-vppon, we praie now þat ȝe
Seye ȝoure avis and ȝoure fulle wille.”

The answer of feres Achile to the mocyoun of wies Vlixes and othere princes of Grece.

And þan anon, þe hardy ferse Achille,

617

Whanne Vlixes concludid hadde his tale,
With a face for anger ded and pale
Seide euene þus, al openly and pleyn:
“Sir Vlixes, ȝif so be as ȝe seyn,
And han declared, in conclusioun,
Þat oure purpos and entencioun
Was finally to brennen and distroye
Þis royal cite þat is called Troye,
I holde, in soth, (me liketh nat to lye)
Þat oure entent was grounded on folye—
To putte vs alle þoruȝ indiscrecioun,
Of rekleshed and hasty mocyoun,
Of lyfe and deth in swyche Iupartye.
And specially alle þe cheualrye
Of Grekis lond, for so smal a þing—
So many prince & many worþi kyng,
Þat han iupartid her body & her good,
I-lost her lyf, and I-spent her blood,
Whiche myȝt haue ben ful wel at home in pes.
And is nat now þe kyng Pallamydes
I-slawe also, as who seiþ but of newe,
Þat was so wis, so manly and so trewe,—
Of whom þe lyf was of more pris allone
Þan þe cause for whiche þat we echone
Be gadred here, who-so loke a-riȝt.
And of Grekis many a noble knyȝt
Þat haue be slayn, boþe of þe worþiest,
Þe world to seke, and þe manlyest:
For oute of euery lond and regioun,
On Grekis party, & with hem of þe toun,
Of chiualrie and of knyȝthod floure,
To wynne in armys worship & honour,

618

Assemblid ben, and come fro so ferre,—
Of whiche, in soth, by dures of þis werre
Ful many oon in þe felde is ded;
And, verraily, wiþ-outen any dred,
Þer shal wel more ȝif þe werre last:
For euery day þe noumbre lasseth fast
Of worþi knyȝtes, ded with-oute rouþe,
Þat I dar seyn & conclude of trouþe,
In þis rage, furious and wood,
Ful likly is þat al þe gentil blood
Þoruȝ-out þe world shal distroied be;
And rual folke—and þat wer gret pite—
Shal han lordshipe & holy gouernaunce,
And cherles eke, with sorwe & meschaunce,
In euery lond shal lordis ben allone,
When gentil-men slay[e]n bene echone.
Is nat Hector, þat was so noble a knyȝt,
Þat was þis worldis verray sonne & liȝt,
Of manhood flour, slay[e]n pitously
In þis werre?—in soth, and so myȝt I,
Par auenture, whiche may nat atteyne
To his noblesse, ȝif I shal nat feyne.
For be what way shal we þe deth eschewe,
With al oure myȝt ȝif we it purswe
Fro day to day while þat we lyn here?
Þerfore, shortly, me for to requere,
Touching þe werre, ouþer for to praye,
Is but [in] veyn. & herkene what I seye:
I nat purpose in þis werre or strif
For to iuparte any more my lif,
For leuer I haue þat palled be my name
Þan to be slayn, & han an Idel fame;
For worþines, after deth I-blowe,

619

Is but a wynde, & lasteth but a þrowe;
For þouȝ renoun & pris be blowe wyde,
Forȝetilnes leith it ofte a-syde
By lengþe of ȝeris and obliuioun,
Þoruȝ envie and fals collucioun.
Þe laude of knyȝthod & of worþines,
Of wysdam eke, & of gentilnes,
Fredam, bounte, vertu, & swiche grace,
Forȝetilnes can dirken and difface;
And, þer-with-al, malys and envie
I-serid hath þe palme of chiualrie
By fals report. Wherfore, I seie, for me,
I wil of wisdam swiche foly lete be,
And in quiete forþe my lyf now lede;
And ouer þis, to ȝou þre I rede
To seke pes with Troyens ȝif ȝe may,
In hasty wyse, wiþ-oute more delay.
Þis is my conseil, platly, to ȝow alle,
Or þat meschef of deth vp-on ȝow falle;
It were wel don þat ȝe token hede,
Boþe Vlixes and þou Dyomede,
And Nestor eke, siþen ȝe be wyse,
To werke, pleynly, lyke as I deuyse.
Þis is þe somme & fyn of myn entent,
And so reporteþ to hym þat haþ ȝou sent.”
And þei anoon, with short conclusioun,
Repeired ben to Agamenoun
With swiche answer as ȝe han herd me seyn,
It nedeth nat to write it new ageyn.
And her-vppon kyng Agamenoun
Lete make anoon a convocacioun
Of his lordis; &, in her presence,
Fro point to point, sothly, in sentence
He hath reheresed how þat Achilles
Was desirous for to han a pes

620

With hem of Troye, and platly how þat he
For no praier wil in no degre
Ageyn Troyens, with spere no[r] with shelde,
In helpe of Grekis ben armyd in þe feld.
Wherfore, þe kyng, as he þat was ful wys,
Her-vppon axed her avys,
And what hem þouȝte was best for to do
In þis mater, siþen it stood so.
And first of alle spekeþ Menelay,
With angry chere, & seyde, platly, nay,
To han a pes it was nat his entent,
Ne þat he wolde þer-to be of assent,
Siþen þe cite, in conclusioun,
Stood on þe prikke of his distruccioun,
Now þat Hector & Dephebus were dede
Þat whilom wern her trust in euery nede
And her diffence; but now þei arn a-goo—
Fare wel her trust & her hope also,
With-oute more, and al her olde pride,
Þei may nat now but after deþ abide:
“And trusteþ wel, with-oute[n] any les,
Þouȝ it so be þat þis Achilles
Ne helpe vs nat toward oure emprise,
We dar nat drede, in no maner wyse,
With-outen hym [for] to han victorie
By oure manhood & oure owne glorie,—
I am ful sure her-of and certeyn.”
But Vlixes gan replie ageyn;
Nestor also, of sodeyn mocioun,
Contrarie was to his oppinioun,
Affermynge, platly, þat no wonder was
Þouȝ Menelay, sothly, in þis cas
Vn-to [þe] pes wolde nat assent;
For openly þei wiste what he ment,

621

For he was grounde & rote of al þe werre
And cause also þei comen were so ferre
Oute of her lond,—he & þe quene Eleyne.
And for þe sake only of hem tweyne,
Þe Grekis alle, whiche no man may denye,
Her lyves putte in swiche Iupartye,
For hym & hir, ȝif þe grounde be souȝt;
For wel þei wiste þat he rouȝt[e] nouȝt,
Þis Menelay, what wo þei endure,
So he his wyf myȝt ageyn recure.
And wher he seiþ þat Hector is ded,
He hath an eyr, to speke of manlihed
And of knyȝthod, as it wil be fonde,
And called is Hector þe secounde,—
Worþi Troylus, whiche þat is his broþer;
In al this world is not swiche anoþer
Of worþines, for to reknen al:
For he of Troye is þe myȝti wal
And diffence, now Hector is [a-]goon;—
Ȝe knowen it wel ȝoure silven euerychon,
Ȝif it so be þat ȝe list take hede,—
Whos sharp[e] swerde sore doth vs blede
Euery day in his furious hete,
Amyd þe feld whan we with him mete.
And in stede of worþi Dephebus,
Whiche in his tyme was wonderly famus,
His broþer Paris is now founde at al
In worþines of knyȝthod perigal,
So þat of hem we han non avauntage
In-to þis hour, but raþer gret damage,
To reknen al, siþen we be-gonne:
Þis verray soth, we haue but litel wonne,
But we ar lykly alwey more to lese
Ȝif we contune; but siþe we may chese,

622

It wer holsom to lyven in quiete,
To han a pes, and þis werre lete,
By oon assent, siþen ȝe be wyse.”

Howe the Grekes had broke ther sege, ne had þe exortacyon ybe of þe Troyan traytour Calchas.

And with þat word, Calchas gan to rise,
Þe Troyan traytour, with a pale chere
For verray Ire, & seide as ȝe shal here:
“A, worþi princes, what þinke ȝe to done,
To chaunge so, lyk as doth þe mone,
Ȝoure olde purpos & ȝour first entent,
Ageyn ȝe wil and comaundement
Of þe goddis, þat euery þing gouerne
By purviaunce, who-so can discerne.
Allas, allas, whi nyl ȝe at þe leste
Credence and feith ȝeven to her heste,
Whiche in no wyse may nat be fallible:
For, in soth, it wer an impossible,
Outterly, but Troye þe cite
Of ordinaunce and necessite,
Mut be distroied hen[ne]s but a lyte,
Ȝif ȝoure slouþe be it nat to wyte,
So þat victorie, worship, and honour,
And final palme eke of þis labour,
To be reported on water & on lond,
Reserued ben hooly to ȝoure hond,
In ȝoure purpos ȝif ȝe forþe contune,
And hindre nat of foly ȝoure fortune.
Þis is in soth, I dar it wel conclude,
And perllous is þe goddis to illude
Of necligence or slouþe wilfully.
Wherfore, I rede þat now manfully,
Of herte & þouȝt, & of ful vnite,

623

Platly deuoidynge al ambyguyte,
To sette vppon, & knyȝtly to reswme
Ȝoure force ageyn, fully to conswme
Ȝoure cruel foon; & late be shet with-oute
Wanhope & drede, dispeir & euery doute,
Castynge of peril, slouþe & cowardyse;
And lete manhod outterly dispise
Al drede of deth, þat causeþ hertis feinte
With cowardyse for to ben atteynte,
Þat finally, as goddis han be-hiȝt
Þoruȝ prescience of her eternal myȝt,
To victorie þat ȝe shal atteyne
Lyke ȝoure desyre,—þer is no more to seyne.”
And whan Calchas, in conclusioun,
Þis fals[e] traytour vn-to Troye toun,
Þe Grekis had þoruȝ his wordis faire,
Touching þe werre, put out of dispaire,
Of hert al oon [þei] caste hem to fulfille
Hooly his counseil, þouȝ so be þat Achille
Be froward [ay] to helpe hem in her nede—
Þei ȝaf no force, & toke of it non hede;
But euerychon þei hem redy make,
As ȝe shal here, þe feld in hast to take.

Aftir the trewes, the Troyans and þe Grekes resumede the felde, in þe which the Grekis might not susteyne against þe swerde of Troylus; for þe which Agamenon sent for a trewe of vj monethes.

The trew[e]s passid of þe monþes tweyne,
In-to þe feld þe Grekis hem ordeyne;
And þei of Troye ageyn hem issen oute.
And worþi Troylus with an huge route
Þe Grekis gan alderfirst assaille;
And with his swerd he made first to raile
Þe rede blod þoruȝ her harnes briȝt,
Þat as þe deth þei fled[de] fro his siȝt:

624

For he þat day þoruȝ his cruelte
Cast hym fully avenged for to be
Vp-on þe deth of Hector, outterly.
And as Dares reherseth specially,
A þousand knyȝtes þis Troyan champioun
Þat day hath slayn, ridyng vp & doun,
As myn auctor, Guydo, list endite—
Saue after hym I can no ferþer write,
In his boke he ȝeveth him swiche a name—
Þat by his manhod & his knyȝtly fame
Þe Grekis alle wer put vn-to þe fliȝt
Al þilke day, til it drowe to nyȝt.
And on the morwe in þe daw[en]ynge,
Þe Grekis han, at Phebus vp-rysynge,
I-armed hem with gret dilligence,
Ageyn Troyens to stonden at diffence.
Amonges whom þat day, as I rede,
So wel hym bar worþi Diomede,
Þat many Troyan þoruȝ his cruelte
Hath loste his lyf, til Troilus gan to se
Þis Diomede in þe feld ridyng,
To whom anoon, with-oute more lettyng,
With his spere þrowe in-to þe reste,
Þis Troilus rod, & hit hym oon the breste
So myȝtely, þat of verray nede
Doun of his hors he smet Dyomede,
Al-be of wounde he had[de] no damage.
And furiously Troilus in his rage,
Of envie gan hym to abreide,
Whan he was doun, þe love of Cryseide,
Of his deceit and his trecherie.
And Grekis þan fast[e] gan hem hye,
Amonge the hors in meschef where he lay,
To drawe him oute in al þe hast þei may;
And on a sheld, brosed & affraied,
Þei bare him hom, so he was dismaied

625

Of þe stroke, home vn-to his tent.
And Menelay þe same while haþ hent
A myȝty spere tavenge Dyomede,
And to Troilus fast[e] gan hym spede,
Fully avysed to vnhorsen hym anon.
But Troylus first made his stede goon
So swyfte a course toward Menelay,
Þat he anoon at þe erþe lay,—
So myȝtely he hit hym with his spere,
Þat shelde & plate myȝt[e] hym nat were,
To sauen hym from a mortal wounde.
But his knyȝtes, anon as þei him founde,
Oute of þe pres whan þei had hym rent,
Þei bar hym hom to his owne tent,
Þe Grekis ay stondyng in distresse
Þoruȝ þe knyȝthod & þe hiȝe prowes
Of þis Troylus, whiche haþ hem so beleyn,
On euery part, where he rod on þe pleyn,
Til vn-to tyme þat Agamenoun
In-to þe felde is avaled doun
With many worþi abouten his baner,
Þat shon ful shene ageyn þe sonne cler.
And with his knyȝtes [hym] ridyng enviroun
He sore enchased hem of Troye toun,
Woundeth & sleth & put hem to þe fliȝt,
Hym silfe aquytynge lik a manly knyȝt;
But for al þat, with-oute more abood,
Amongis Troyens fersely as he rood,
Þis worþi kyng, grete Agamenoun,
With a spere Troylus smet hym doun
Maugre his Grekis—þer geineþ no socour.
And whan þei sawe her lord, her gouernour

626

In swyche meschef at þe grounde lyende,
Þei hent hym vp, & made hym to ascende,
Þoruȝ her manhod, on his stronge stede.
And he of wyt gan to taken hede,
And consider wysly in his þouȝt
In what disioynt Troylus had hem brouȝt,
And how his Grekis, for al her gret[e] pride,
To-forn his swerde myȝt[e] nat abide—
He prudently, of hiȝe discrecioun,
Þis noble knyȝt, kyng Agamenoun,
As he þat hadde ay his aduertence
On gouernaunce, þoruȝ his prouidence,
Whanne he sawe his Grekis gonne faille
And wexe feble to stonden in bataille
For lak of stuf þat shulde hem recounforte,
Ful prudently he made hem to resorte,
Eueryche of hem, to his owne tent.
And after þat he hath to Priam sent
For a trew, to Troye þe cite,
For sixe monþes, ȝif it myȝt[e] be.
And by his conseil, Priamus þe kyng,
With-oute abood granted his axyng,
Al-be þat somme, as Guydo list endite,
Were euel apaied so longe to respite
Her mortal fon, in any maner wyse;
But ȝit his graunt, as ȝe han herd deuise,
Stood in his strengþe fully, as I rede.

Howe doubyle Cresseyd, agayns the wylle of here Fader, went to vyset Dyomede in his Tente.

In whiche tyme, of verray womanhede,
Cryseyde list no lenger for to tarie,
Þouȝ hir fader wer þer-to contrarie,
For to visite, and to han a siȝt
Of Diomede, þat was be-come hir knyȝt,

627

Whiche had of Troylus late kouȝt a wounde.
And in his tent whanne she haþ hym founde,
Benignely, vp-on his beddis syde
She set hir doun, in þe silve tyde,
And platly cast in hir owne þouȝt,
Touchinge Troylus, þat it was for nouȝt
To lyue in hope of any more recure,
And þouȝt she wolde for no þing be vnsure
Of puruyaunce, nor with-oute stoor:—
She ȝaf anoon, with-outen any mor,
Hooly hir herte vn-to Diomede.
Loo! what pite is in wommanhede,
What mercy eke & benygne routhe—
Þat newly can al her olde trouthe,
Of nature, late slyppe a-syde
Raþer þanne þei shulde se abide
Any man in meschef for hir sake!
Þe change is nat so redy for to make
In Lombard Strete of crowne nor doket—
Al paie is good, be so þe prente be set:
Her lettre of change doth no man abide!
So þat þe wynde be redy and þe tyde,
Passage is ay, who-so list to passe!
No man is lost þat list to seke grace—
Daunger is noon but counterfet disdeyn;
Þe se is calme and fro rokkis pleyn:
For mercyles neuer man ne deide
Þat souȝt[e] grace!—recorde of Cryseyde,
Whiche finally hath ȝoven al hir herte
To Diomede in reles of his smerte,
And praide hym to be riȝt glad & liȝt,
And called hym hir owne man, hir knyȝt,
And hym behiȝt, raþer þan he deie,
In euery þing how she wolde obeye,
Þat were honest, hym to do plesaunce:

628

For leuere she had chaunge & variaunce
Were founde in hir þanne lak of pite,
As sittyng is to femynyte,
Of nature nat [to] be vengable,
For feith nor oþe, but raþer mercyable
Of mannys lyf stondyng in distresse.
Her-of no more; for now I wil me dresse
To telle forþe in my translacioun
Ceriously how Agamenoun
Duryng þe trewe & þe tyme of pes
Hym siluen went vn-to Achilles,
Besechynge hym som rewarde to haue,
Of his knyȝthod Grekis for to saue,
And his presence no more to withdraw,
To suffren hem so mortally be slawe
Of her enmyes, pompos and elat.
But Achilles, alweye indurat,
I-liche newe, boþe in herte & þouȝt,
From his purpos platly chaungeþ nouȝt,
Fully enclyned for to han a pes.
But for-as-moche as þis Achilles
Of enternes and affeccioun
So lovynge was to Agamenoun,
He vn-to hym graunted at þe leste
A gret parcel touchinge his request:
Þis to seyn, þat þis Achilles
Granteth to hym hys Mirundones,
Ful knyȝtly men, only in his absence
With [þe] Grekis to make resistence
In þe felde ageyn hem of þe toun.
For whiche grant, kyng Agamenoun
And duke Nestor þankyd hym of herte.
But he, alweye contunyng in his smerte
For þe loue of feire Polycene,
Ne knewe no geyn to his woundis grene,

629

But dispeired, languyssheþ euer in oon.
And whan þe trews passed wern & gon,
Vp-on a day, þe morwe, ful benygne,
Achilles his knyȝtes dide assigne
Þe feld to take with Agamenoun;
And, as þe story makeþ mencioun,
He ȝaf to hem bendys fresche of red,
Þat men may knowe by her manlyhed
With whom þei wern with-holde in special.
And lyke a man dedly and mortal,
In his tent Achilles abood,
In-to þe feld from hym whan þei rood,
Only for dool þei shuld[e] from him twynne,
In his absence a werre to be-gynne
Maugre his wille ageyn hem of þe toun;
But forþe þei went with Agamenoun
Vp-on Troyens, sterne and ful of pride.
But with hem mette on þe toþer syde
Þe manly knyȝtes of Troyanyshe blod,
Whiche wern on hem so furious and wod,
Þat cruelly þe Grekis þei oppresse,
So þat abak for fere þei gan hem dresse—
Þei wern on hem so inly fel & kene—
Til þat þe duke þat lord was of Atthene
Entrid in þe Grekis to diffende.
But vp-on hym, vnwarly, or he wende,
Cam myȝty Troylus lyk a wod lyoun,
And from his stede anoon he bar him doun;
And, after þat, he put hym so in pres,
Til he mette with Mirundones,
And of hem slowe þat day ful many on.
And so fer in Troylus is y-goon,
Þat he Grekis putte outterly to fliȝt
Þoruȝ his knyȝthod, til hit drow to nyȝt:
For from his swerd no ransoun myȝt hem borwe.
And Guydo writ, þat on þe nexte morwe
Ful mortal was þe slauȝter on owþer syde,

630

Amyd þe feld as þei to-gyder ryde,
Of manly knyȝtes, þat wonder was to sene.
And, as þei fauȝt, þe kyng Philymene
With helpe only of Pallydamas
Taken hath þe worþi kyng Thoas,
And gan hym lede toward Troye toun;
But Mirundones on hym come doun
Wonder proudly, & after gan to swe,
And þoruȝ her myȝt Thoas þei reskwe,
And hym delyuere, for þei wer so stronge.
But Troylus þan hurtled hem amonge
Furiously, lyke a champioun,—
Now her, now þer, cast & þrewe hem doun:
Somme he slowe, & somme he made blede,
Til cruelly þei slow his myȝty stede
Whiche he sat on; and ȝit, neuerþeles,
He fauȝt on fote ageyn Mirundones,
Þat had caste Troylus to haue take.
But Parys tho gan hem so awake,
With his breþer þat a-boute hym rood,
Þat in þe place where as Troylus stood
Vp-on his fet, but hym silfe allone,
Of Mirundones þei slow many one,—
Þat of knyȝthod, þoruȝ her manlyhede
Þei vn-to hym brouȝt anoþer stede,
Amyd his foon, and made hym to ascende.
And he ful knyȝtly gan hym silfe diffende,
Beset with Grekis in þe silfe stounde,
Þat neuere ȝit a better knyȝt was fonde:
Þei felt it wel, þei þat wer his foon.
But þanne his broþer, called Emergaron,
So as he fauȝt, puttynge him silfe in pres,
Was slayn, allas! amonge Mirundones.
Þe deth of whom, in a cruel ire,

631

Troylus with anger newe set a-fire,
Pleynly purposeth tavenge ȝif he may;
And with his swerd he gan to make way,
And Parys ay fast[e] by rydynge,
And alle his breþer vp-on him awaitynge,—
Whiche alle I-fere wer so mercyles,
As I fynde, vp-on Mirundones,
Þat of force and necessite
Þei wer compelled pleynly for to fle,
Troylus on hem was so furious,
So vengable eke and so dispitous,
Þat he hem ȝaf many mortal wounde.
And ȝit, in soth, þat day þei wer founde
Noble knyȝtes, & quit hem wonder wel:
For þei þe crafte knewe[n] euerydel
Longynge to armys, of hem as I rede.
But for al þat, he made her sydes blede
Þoruȝ þe maille & her plates shene,
Þat þei ne myȝt, pleynly, nat sustene
Þe swerd of Troylus, hem chasyng oueral,
Al-be þei kepte hem clos as any wal—
Hool to-gidre, and went nat asounder.
But Troylus ay hem chaseth her & ȝonder,
And seuered hem maugre al her myȝt.
Til in-to feld with many worþi knyȝt
Cam Menelay and kyng Agamenoun,
Vlixes eke, and cruel Thelamoun,
And Diomede, whiche of his woundis grene
Recured was, as seiþ myn auctor clene;—
And on Troyens sodeinly þei falle
With her wardis and her knyȝtes alle:
And þo began þe fiȝt[e] to renewe
On euery half, þat with blody hewe
Þe platis briȝt wern of newe steyned;
And þei of Troye so manly han hem peyned

632

Ageyn her foon in þis myȝty stryf,
Þat many Greke was berafte his lyf;
And where þei wern most myȝti in batail,
Troylus cam in, & gan hem to assail
On euery parte, with many blody wounde,
And by his knyȝthod gan hem so confounde
Þat ay þei fled, so þei wern aferd
Þe mortal strokis of his sharpe swerd,
Her dedly foo and destruccioun.
And þis contuneth til kyng Thelamoun,
By his manhod, whan þat he beheld,
Þe Grekis made recure ageyn þe felde,
And gan Troyens assaille wonder sore.
And þo be-gan þe slauȝter more & more
On eche-a-side, til Troylus newe ageyn
Þe Grekis hath so fersly ouerleyn,
Mirundones and hem euerychon,
Aforn his swerd þat he made hem goon
To her tentis, and þe feld forsake.
And with his hond þat day he haþ take
An hundrid knyȝtes þat cam in his woye,
Þoruȝ his prowesse, & sent hem in-to Troye.
And euere in on gan so to enchase
Mirundones, þat þei lost her place,
And to Achille, liggynge in his tent,
Þei repeire, for-wounded & to-rent,
Her harneis broke, boþe plate & maille.
And of noumbre, I fynde, þat þei faille
An hundrid knyȝtes, slayn & ded, allas,
Þat after wer y-founde in þe taas
Amyd þe feld, þoruȝ girt with many wounde
Of Troylus swerd,—Hector þe secounde.
Wher-of Achille, whan he had a siȝt,
So hevy was al þe next[e] nyȝt,

633

In his bed walwynge to and fro,
Deuoide of slepe for constreint of his wo,—
At his hert his wounde was so kene,
What for his men & faire Polycene,
Wetyng wel, ȝif he dide his peyne
To be vengid, he shulde nat atteyne
In no wyse vn-to his desire.
And þus he brent in a double fyre
Of loue and Ire, þat made him siȝe sore;
But for cause loue was þe more,
He was a-ferd ageyn hem of þe toun
In his persone to done offencioun,
List Priamus and Eccuba þe quene
Offendid wern, & namly Pollycene.
And þus he stood in a double wer,
Þat at his hert sat hym wonder ner,
With many wonder diuerse fantasie,
As haue louers þat be in point to dye:
Riȝt euene-so fareth þis woful man,
For verray wo þat no red ne can,
So entriked þat he wende dye,
Of his recure he knewe no better weye.
And while he laie þus in his þrowes white
(Liche as Guydo pleinly list endite,
And þe story makeþ mencioun),
Þat dayes seuene þei of Troye toun,
To encres & awgment of her sorwe,
With þe Grekis metten euery morwe:
Þat þoruȝ þe force of her boþer myȝt,
On ouþer part was slay[e]n many knyȝt.
And al þis while lay þis Achilles,
Of Grekis deth y-liche rec[e]les,
For loue only, & toke no maner hede
Who-so were hool or mortally doth blede,

634

Or who þat pleyneth with his woundis large—
Hym þouȝt it was no parcel of his charge,
So moche he haþ on oþer þing to þenke,
Þat ofte he waketh whan he sholde winke,
Þouȝtful ay and ymagynatyf,
And verray wery of his owne lyf.
Til on a day, kyng Agamenoun,
Seynge þe deth and destruccioun
On Grekis halfe, with-oute remedie,
To Troye sent by enbassatrye
For a trewe certeyn dayes space,
But he myȝt þer-of haue no grace
Lenger tyme, platly, to endure,
Þan for leyser of þe sepulture
Of worþi knyȝtes þat wer ded to-forn,
In þe feld on ouþer part y-lorn,
Which in þe taas ful besely þei souȝt.
And after þis, pleynly, how þei wrouȝt
Duryng þe sege with gret violence,
I shal discrive with ȝoure pacience.

Howe the Troyans, the trewes endede, made so mortale were vpone the Grekes that, thorght the manhode and the blody swerde of Troylus, the Grekes wer brought ful nygh to outterance.

The cruel force & þe mortal Ire
Of Martis myȝt, alweie set a-fire
With newe envie, gonne of old hatrede,
Brennynge in hertis hoot as any glede,
Atwixe Grekis and Troye þe cyte,
Whiche likly is nat staunched for to be
Til deth consume with his mortal darte
Ful many worþi vp-on ouþer parte,
Texecute, allas! by fynal fate

635

Eche on oþer þenvious dedly hate,
Whiche þei ne myȝt by destyne remewe
Nor for parchas at liberte eschewe:
For Antropos wil suffre it be noon oþer,
Þat is maistresse & guyer of þe rother
Of Dethis ship, til al go vn-to wrak!
And Fortune gan turne hir face bake
Of hiȝe disdeyn fro Troye þe cite,
As in þis story riȝt sone ȝe shal se.
For whan þe trews þat þei had[de] take
Wer werid oute, þei gan [hem] redy make
—Þe proude Grekis,—& in-to felde þei gon
Vp-on a morwe, whan Phebus briȝt[e] shon,
Armyd ful shene, eueryche at his devis.
And Menelay first mette with Parys,
Þilke day, in story as I rede,
And eche of hem smet oþer of his stede;
At whyche tyme, daunȝ Pallydamas
To Vlixes rod a sterne pas,
And eche at oþer, of cruel enmyte,
With stiffe swerdis gan to-gidre fle,
Þat nouþer was of manhod for to wyte.
And with a spere, squared for to byte,
Þe myȝty duke, called Meneste,
Rood lyne riȝt, þat alle myȝt[e] se,
To Anthenor, þe Troyan ful of pride,
And from his sadel cast hym doun a-side,
In his furie & his hatful tene.
And þo in al haste cam kyng Phylymene,
Only in helpe of hem of þe toun,
And gan assaille kyng Agamenoun
Þoruȝ his knyȝthod & his hardynes,
Þat he him had brouȝt in gret distresse,
To outter meschef and confusioun,
Nadde only be þat kyng Thelamoun

636

Ful proudly cam hym [for] to reskewe,
And after sore gan for to purswe
With a spere vp-on Philomene,
And from his horse he leide hym on þe grene,
Maugre his force, þe story telleþ þus,
For he to hym was mortally Irous.
And after þat, ȝonge Archilogus
A mortal cours ran vn-to Brumvs,
Oon of þe sonys of Priamus þe kyng,
Ȝonge and delyuer, & best in his lykyng;
But he hym smet with so gret a myȝt
Þat he fil ded, þis freshe lusty knyȝt:
Þe deth of whom, whan þei of Troye espie,
Þei made a shouȝt, & pitously gan crye
Of woful routh, & his deth compleyne,
Til þe noise gan outterly atteyne
To Troylus eris, platly, where he rood.
And he no lenger after þat abood,
But to þe place felly gan aproche,
And with his swerd for to sette a-broche,
With-oute rouþe, þe Grekis hatful blood,
And, mercyles, al þat hym with-stood
He slowe þat day, by cruel auenture,
Þat Greke was noon, þe whiche myȝt endure
To-forn his swerd—he gan hem so oppresse:
For of knyȝthod and [of] hiȝe prowesse
He hadde hem putte outterly to flyȝt,
Nad[de] ben þe manhod & þe myȝt
Of Mirundones, whiche al þat day
By oon assent vp-on Troylus lay,
Wher-of he was ful malencolius;
And of corage & manhod most famus,
He ne list no lenger for to lette,
B[ut] al attonys vp-on hem he sette,

637

And furiously gan amonge hem ryde.
And somme he smet euene þoruȝ þe syde,
Þoruȝ the body, & some þoruȝ þe herte;
And with his swerd þoruȝ doublet & sherte,
Þoruȝ sheld and plate, & þoruȝ haberioun
He percid hath, and like a wood lyoun
He slow þat day of hem many oon,
Þat maugre hem þei fledden euerychon,
With þe Grekis, eueryche to his tent.
And þei of Troye after hem be went
Swyftly on horse, til þei han hem take;
And swiche a morder of Grekis þer þei make,
Þat finally þer was no bet reskus
But only deth, so passyngly confus
Þe Grekis wern at meschef desolat,—
Troilus so narwe brouȝt hem to chek-maat,
Þat þei koude no better remedie
But hidously for to wayle and crye,
To deth forwounded, with a grisly chere.

Howe Achilles for-gat the love of Polycene when he sawe the Grekis at þe poynt of confusyon.

Þat Achilles, whan he gan first here
Þe dredful noise and þe woful soun,
Þat caused was by refleccioun
Of eir a-ȝen—who-so koude it knowe—
In rochis harde and kauernys lowe,
Lyke as it wer o word spoke of two,
Þat men ar wont to callen an Ecko—
So confus was þe lamentacioun
On Grekis side;—of whiche þe dedly soun
So pitously to Achilles is ronne,
Of hem þat laye ageyn þe hote sonne,
With mortal woundes ȝeldinge vp þe breþe,

638

With rowmble & swowe resownyng in-to deþe—
Swiche a noise Grekis made þere.
And what it mente Achilles dide enquere,
And what þe cause was of her clamour;
And þei tolde hym, for lak of socour
Þe Grekis wern eche in his tentorie
Of Troylus slayn, so þat þe victorie
Goth finally with hem of Troye toun
For euere-more, in conclusioun:
So many Greke lay slay[e]n in his tent,
Gaping vpward, þat haþ his blood y-spent,
Þoruȝ þe constreynt of his woundes smerte.
And while Achilles þis meschef gan aduerte,
Ful sodeinly þer cam to hym a man,
Þe whiche his tale euene þus be-gan:
“Allas,” quod he, “how many ȝe sustene
To sen ȝour men her vp-on þe grene
A-fore ȝoure face slayn & ly[e]n dede,
And liste nat onys for to taken hede,
But stonde stille, pensif in ȝoure tent,
Vp-on þe point ȝoure silfe to be shent
In hasty hour, ȝif ȝe here abide:
For fifty þousand knyȝtes here be-side,
Redy armyd in platis and in maille,
Cast hem pleinly attonys ȝou tassaille—
Þis no doute—vn-armyd as ȝe stonde,
But ȝe of knyȝthod manly take on honde
To resiste in þis silfe place,
And like a man to mete hem in þe face.”
For whiche anon, in a cruel mood,
Þis Achilles, like as he were wood,
Armed hym, fomynge as a boor;—
Fare-wel his loue! he set of it no stoor;
Of hasty hete his Ire was so kene
Þat he forgat faire Polycene
And hir bewte, þat whilom made him smerte.

639

And in a rage vp anoon he sterte,
And toke his stede, as any lyoun wroþe
Ageyns Troyens, & in-to feld he goth:
Lyche a wolfe þat is with hunger gnawe,
Riȝt so gan he ageyn his foon to drawe;
And where he rood, with-oute excepcioun,
He woundeþ, sleþ, kylleþ, & bereth doun—
Now here, now þere—in a lytel þrowe,
Þat þei of Troye gan his swerd [to] knowe,
Whiche was infect of newe with her blood:
For þer was noon as ȝit þat hym with-stood,
So mortally he gan aboute hym leyn
Þe dede bodies endelong þe pleyn.
Til casuelly Troylus gan espie
Þis Achilles, as he caste an eye,
And gan his hors with spores to constreyne,
And rood at hym with al his myȝt & peyne;
But Achilles, of hym war also,
Smette eke his stede & made hym for to go
Toward Troylus in þe silfe tyde.
And with ful cours as þei to-gider ride
Ful lyne riȝt, her speres sharpe whet,
With swiche a myȝt þei han to-gider met,
Of hiȝe disdeyn—þer is no more to seyn,—
Þat to þe grounde þei fel boþe tweyne;
But Achilles kauȝte swiche a wounde
In his body, so depe and so profounde,
Þat long he lay (myn auctour seiþ certeyn)
Or he to helþe restored was ageyn.
And Troilus eke, þoruȝ platis, mail, and al
(As writ Guydo) had a wounde smal,
Whiche vn-to hym dide no greuaunce.
And þus þat day by contynuaunce,
And dayes sixe, swynge by and by,

640

Þe proude Grekis mette cruelly
Amyd þe feld hem of Troye toun,
To gret damage and confusioun
Of ouþer party, pleinly, þis no nay:
For many worþi was slayn day by day
In her rancour & hertly hoot envie,
—Al-be Guydo doth nat specefye
Noon of her names, pleinly, in his boke,
As ȝe shal fynde ȝif ȝe list to loke.
And al þis while, for þis sodeyn þing
Pensyf & trist was Priamus þe kyng,
Þat Achilles torned hath so clene
His hert away fro ȝonge Polycene,
And for þis chaunge, so sodeyn & so newe,
Þouȝt his behestis wer[e] nat al trewe,
But on deceit and on doubilnes,
On fraude falsly, & newfongilnes,
On sleȝty tresoun and on couert gile,
Or rage of loue, þat lasteth but a while,
Was outterly founded his beheste:
For like a wynde, þat no man may areste,
Fareth a word, discordaunt to þe dede,
Of whiche a wysman take shal noon hede,
But lete passe, as he were rek[e]les.
For, al-be-it þat þis Achilles
Was whilom cauȝt with-in Louys snare,
Hym lyst nat now onys for to spare
Of hyȝe rancour his lady to offende—
It was nat lyche as þei of Troye wende,
Eccuba nouþer Pollycene.
Wher-of Priam spak vn-to þe quene
In an anger, and gan hir to abreide
Þat she hir trust so enterely leyde
On Achilles, þat can so falsly mene;
Wherof ful trist was þis Polycene,

641

Þat was inclined, with hir eyen clere,
By þe counseil of hir moder dere
To haue be wedded to þis Achilles,
To fyn only þer shuld haue ben a pes
Atwen Grekis and hem of Troye toun.

Howe the next morowe Achilles resumede the sprete of rankoure and envye, and there-vpon, agayns the ordure of knyghthode, proditoriously compassede þe dethe of worthy Troylus.

But al was fals, in conclusioun;
In þe fyn was þe trouþe sene:
For whanne Achilles of his woundes grene
Was fully curid, by a certeyn day,
He gan compasse, in al þat euere he may,
And ymagyne in his envious herte
To be venged of his woundis smerte
Vp-on Troylus, þat stak ay in his mynde,
At avauntage ȝif he myȝt hym fynde
—To hym he bar so passyngly hatrede,
In his herte brennynge as the glede,
Whiche day nor nyȝt may in no degre
Fully be queynt til he avenged be,
Þe hote rancour gan so on hym gnawe—
Avised platly þat he shal be slawe
Of his hondis, whan-so þat it falle.
And on a day to hym he gan calle
Mirundones, his knyȝtes euerychon,
Vp-on a morwe whan þe Grekis gon
To-fore þe toun, in stel armyd briȝt,
Ageyns Troyens in purpos for to fiȝt;
And þei wer come proudly in-to felde
In thoposit, with many riche shelde,
Newly depeynt with colours freshe & fyne,
Vp-on whiche ful briȝt[e] gan to shyne

642

Firy Titan, gold-tressed in his spere,
At his vprist with his bemys clere,
—Whan þis felle envious Achilles
To his knyȝtes, called Mirundones,
Vp-on Troylus gan hym to compleyne,
Besechynge hem for to done her peyne
Ageyn þis Troylus in þe feld þat day,
To cachen hym at meschef ȝif þei may,
And besely to done her dilligence
On hym to han her ful aduertence,
By oon assent, wher-so þat he ride—
Al oþer þing for to sette a-syde,
And of nouȝt ellis for to taken hede,
Sauf finally ageyn hym to procede
Ȝif þei myȝt cacche hym in a trappe—
With-Inne hem silf Troilus for to clap,
To enclose and sette hym rounde aboute
In al wyse þat he go nat oute.
And whan he were be-set amonge hem alle,
Nat to slen hym, what-so-euere falle,
But þoruȝ her myȝt manly hym conserue
Til he hym silfe come & make hym sterve,
With his swerd, he & noon oþer wyȝt.
Lo! here a manhod for to preise a-riȝt!
Vengaunce of deth, of rancour, & of pride,
Compassid tresoun, knyȝthod leyde a-side!
Worþines be envie slawe,
Falshed alofte, trouþe a-bak y-drawe!
Allas! in armys þat it shulde falle,
Of trecherie þat þe bitter galle
Shuld in þis world in any knyȝt be founde,
Þat be to trouþe of her order bounde!
Allas, allas! for now þis Achilles
Conspired haþ with his Mirundones
Þe deth of oon þe worþiest[e] wyȝt
Þat euere was, and þe beste knyȝt!

643

Allas! for wo myn herte I fele blede
For his sake, þis story whan I rede.
But whan Fortune haþ a þing ordeyned,
Þouȝ it be euere wailled and compleined,
Þer is no geyn nor no remedie
Þouȝ men on it galen ay & crye
—I can no more touchinge þis matere,
But write forþe, lik as ȝe shal here,
How Mirundones han her lord be-hiȝt,
With al her power & her ful[le] myȝt
To fulfillen his comaundement;
And in-to feld with Grekis þei be went.

Howe Mirmidones grauntede Achilles to vmbilap Troilus, wherthorgh he myght the esylyer scle hym.

But Troylus first, in þe opposit,
Of verray knyȝthood haþ so grete delit
With-oute abood manly hem to mete
—He was y-brent with so feruent hete
Of hardines and [of] hiȝe corage,
Of worþines and of vasselage,
Þat hym ne list no lenger to abide,
But with his folk in be-gan to ride
Amonge Grekis, þis stok of hiȝe renoun.
And with his swerd he woundeþ & bereþ doun,
Sleþ and kylleþ, vp-on euery halfe
So mortally, þat þer may no salue
Her sores sounde; for þer was but deth,
Wher-so he rood, and ȝelding vp þe breth,
So furiously he gan hem enchase;
And made hem lese in a litel space
Her lond echon, and a-forn hym fle:
In Troylus swerd þer was swiche cruelte,
Þat maugre hem he þe feld haþ wonne.

644

Þe same tyme whan þe briȝt[e] sonne
Hiȝe in þe south at mydday-marke shon,
Euene at þe hour whan it drowe to noon,
Whan Mirundones, gadred alle in oon,
In compasse wyse rounde aboute hym gon,
And furiously, of oon entencioun,
Þei made a cercle aboute hym enviroun,
Whan þei sawe him of help[e] desolaat.
But he of hert nat disconsolat,
Vp-on no side, þoruȝ his manlyhede
Lik a lyoun toke of hem noon hede,
But þoruȝ his famus knyȝtly excellence
As a tigre stondeth at diffence,
And manfully gan hem to encombre,
And [gan] to lasse & discres her noumbre.
And somme he maymeþ & woundeþ to þe deþ,
And somme he made to ȝelden vp þe breþ,
And somme he laide to þe erthe lowe,
And somme he made for to ouer-þrowe,
With his swerd of her blood al wet,
At gret meschef under his horse fet;—
Vp-on his stede sturdy as a wal,
Þis worthy knyȝt, þis man most marcial,
Pleyeth his pley amonge Mirundones,
Hym silf, God wote, allone al help[e]les.

How worth[y] Troylus was besett with iij. thousande Knyghtes; and how knyghtly he defendid him.

But þo, allas! what myȝt his force avail
Whan þre þousand knyȝtes hym assail,
On euery part, boþe in lengþe and brede!
And cowardly first þei slow his stede
With her speris, sharpe & square [y-]grounde:
For whiche, allas! he stont now on þe grounde
With-oute reskus, refut, or socour,
Þat was þat day of chiualrie flour.

645

But, weillawey, þei han hym so be-set,
Þat from his hed þei smet his basenet,
And brak his harneis, as þei hym assaille,
And seuere of stele þe myȝti strong[e] maille.
He was disarmyd, boþe nekke and hed,
Allas þe whyle! & no wiȝt toke noon hede
Of alle his knyȝtes longynge to þe toun;
And ȝit alweye þis Troyan champioun
In knyȝtly wyse, naked as he was,
Hym silfe diffendeth, til Achilles, allas!
Cam ridynge in, furious and wood.

How worthy Troylus was cowardly slayn by Achilles.

And whan he sawe how Troilus nakid stod,
Of longe fiȝtyng awaped and amaat,
And from his folke allone disolat,
Sool by hym silf at meschef pitously,
Þis Achilles wonder cruelly,
Be-hynde vnwarly, or þat he toke hed,
With his swerd smyteþ of his hed,
And cast it forþe of cursed cruel herte,—
And þouȝt[e] platly, it shuld him nat asterte
To shewe his malys, þis wolfe vnmerciable!
Ful vnknyȝtly to be more vengable
Vp-on þe body þat lay ded and colde
—Allas, þat euer it shuld of knyȝt be tolde,
Wryte, or rehersed, to do so foule a dede,
Or in a boke, allas, þat men shuld rede
Of any knyȝt a story so horrible,
Vn-to þe eris passingly odible:—
For þis Achille of cruelte, allas!
Þe dede cors toke oute of þe taas,
And vengably bond it, as I fynde,

646

At þe taille of his hors be-hynde,
And hatfully, þat euery wyȝt behilde,
Drowe it hym silf en[de]longe þe feld
Þoruȝ þe rengis and þe wardis alle.

How the translater compleyneth of Achilles for his treson, and deth of worthy Troylus.

But, o allas! þat euere it shulde falle
A knyȝt to bene in herte so cruel,
Or of hatred so dispitous fel
To drawe a man after he were ded!
O þou, Omer, for shame be now red,
And be astonyd, þat haldest þi silfe so wyse,
On Achilles to setten swiche a pris!
In þi bokes for his chiualrie
Above echon dost hym magnyfye,
Þat was so sleiȝty & so ful of fraude!
Whi ȝevest þou hym so hiȝe a pris & laude?
Certis, Omer, for al þin excellence
Of rethoryk and of eloquence,
Þi lusty songes and þi dites swete,
Þin hony mouþe þat doth with sugre flete—
Ȝet in o þing þou gretly art to blame:
Causeles to ȝeue hym swiche a name,
With a title of triumphe and glorie
So passingly putte hym in memorie,
In þi bokes to seyn and write so,
Þoruȝ his knyȝthod he slowe Hectoris two:
First hym þat was lik [vn-]to noon oþer,
And Troilus after, þat was his owne broþer!
Ȝif þou arte meved of affeccioun,
Whiche þat þou hast to Grekis nacioun,
To preise hym so, for þou canst endite,
Þou shuldest ay, for any favour, write

647

þe trouþe pleinly, & ben indifferent,
And seie þe soþe clerly of entent.
For whan he slowe Hector in þe felde,
He was a-forn disarmyd of his shelde
And besy eke in spoylyng of a kyng:
For ȝif he had be war of his comyng,
He had hym quytte, þoruȝ his chiualrie,
His fals deceit and his trecherie,
Þat he ne had so liȝtly from hym gon.
Troilus also was naked & allone,
Amyd foure þousand closed & be-shet
Whan Achilles haþ his hed of smet,
At his bak of ful cruel herte,
Whan he no þing his tresoun dide aduerte.
Was þat a dede of a manly knyȝt?—
To slen a man forweried in fiȝt,
Feynt of travail, al þe longe day
Amonge so many stondyng at abay,
A kynges sone, and so hiȝe born,
Naked þe hed, his armure al to-torn,
Euene at þe deth on þe silfe point,
At disavauntage, & pleinly oute of Ioynt,
Of his lyf stondyng on þe wrak—
Whan Achilles cam falsly at þe bak,
Assaillynge hym whan he was half ded,
And lyk a coward smot of þanne his hed,
Þat was to-forn hurte & wounded sore!
Wherfor, Omer, preise hym now no more.
Lat nat his pris þi rial boke difface,
But in al haste his renoun oute [a]race:
For his name whan I here nevene,
Verrailly vp vn-to þe heuene
(As semeth me) infect is þe Eyr,
Þe sown þer-of so foule is & vnfair!

648

For ȝif þat he had hadde his aduertence,
Ouþer þe eye of his prouidence
Vn-to knyȝthod or to worþines,
Ouþer to manhod or to gentilnes,
Or to þe renoun of his owne name,
Or to þe report of his knyȝtly fame,
In any wyse to haue taken hede,
He hadde neuer don so foule a dede:
So vengably [for] to haue y-drawe
A kynges sone after he was slawe!
And namly hym, þat was so gode a knyȝt,
Whiche in his tyme, who-so loke a-riȝt,
Passed Achille, I dar it wel expresse,
Boþe of manhod and of gentilnes.
But for al þat, he is now ded, allas!
Þe deth of whom whan Pallydamas
And Paris eke dide first espie,
Þei ferde, in soth, as þei wolde deye.
And specially, with face ded and fade,
Paris, allas, swiche a sorwe made
For þe constreint of his dedly wo,
Whan he sawe [þat] Troylus was a-go,
And þat he shal neuer a-lyue hym se.
Swiche sorwe also þe Troyan daunȝ Enee
For hym hath made, & many a-noþer mo.
And alle attonys þei to-gidre go,
Þe dede cors to recure ȝif þei maye;
But Grekis wern so fel on hem þat day
Þat her labour was outterly in veyn,
In any wyse þe cors to gete agey[n],
Til þat Menoun, þe noble worþi kyng,
Whiche loued Troilus ouer al[le] þing,
Cauȝt swiche routhe of affeccioun,
Þat he in haste, ferser þanne lyoun,
On his deth caste hym to be wreke.
And first for Ire þus he gan to speke

649

To Achilles for his hiȝe tresoun:
“O þou traitour! o þou scorpioun!
O þou serpent, ful of trecherie!
Whiche in dishonour of al chiualrie,
Þoruȝ fals engyn hast þis day [y-]slawe
Oon of þe best, þat hadde no felaw
Whan he deide, in þis world a-lyve!
Allas, allas! who may ariȝt discrive
Þi venym hid, þi malis & vntrouþe,
With-oute pite or, vnknyȝtly, rouþe—
To drawe a knyȝt, so gentil & so good,
A kynges sone of so worþi blood,
Þoruȝ-oute þe feld þin horse tail behinde,
Þat after euer [it] schal ben in mynde,
Þis cruel dede and vngentilnes!”
And with þat word, Menoun gan him dresse
Toward Achille, with-oute more arest;
And with a spere smet hym in þe brest,
Enviously of so grete hatrede,
Þat he vnneþe kepte hym on his stede.
And Menoun after pulled oute a swerde,
And cast hym manly to [mete] hym in þe berde,
And rood to hym, fully deuoide of drede,
And swiche a wounde ȝaf him on þe hede,
Þat maugre hym, in many mannys siȝt,
To þe erthe he made hym to aliȝt,
For al his pride, in a mortal traunce:
For of þat wounde he felt[e] swiche greuaunce,
Þat at þe deth he lay an huge whyle,
In a swowe þe space of halfe a myle,
Til Mirundones, assemblid in-to oon,
With gret labour hent hym vp a-noon,
Ful dedly pale, so he gan to blede.
But for al þat, þei sette him on his stede,
And at þe last his hert he kauȝt ageyn,
And smet his horse, of hate & hiȝe disdeyn,

650

And toward Menoun faste gan hym hiȝe.
But whan þat he his comynge dide espie,
Ful lyke a knyȝt list nat to a-bide,
But hit his horse sharply in þe side
And mette Achilles proudly on þe plein;
And with her swerdis þei to-gidre leyn,
And gan to hurtle on horse-bak I-fere,
With hert envious and dispitous chere.
But kyng Menoun was at avauntage
Of Achilles, for al his wode rage,
In poynt tabrouȝt hym to confusioun,
Til þe wardis of newe come doun
On ouþer part, boþe here & ȝonder,
Whiche sodeinly seuered hem a-sonder.
And as þe story telleth pleinly, þanne
Be-gan þe slauȝter of many manly man:
For nouþer party þe felde nolde leue
Of verray pride, til it drow to eve,
Þat Phebus gan aswagen of his hete,
And gan to baþen, in þe wawes wete,
His briȝt[e] bemys, of þe occian,
Þat fro þe feld hom goth euery man
To her loggyng; & after, seuene daies
Þei fauȝt y-fere, & made no delaies,
Ful mortally, by cruel auenture,
While Achilles besy was to cure
His woundes grene, & his soris sounde.
And þanne he hath a newe tresoun founde,
To be venged vp-on kyng Menon:
For al his wit he sette þer-vppon.
And so þis cruel envious Achilles
I-charged hath his Mirundones
Worthy Menon amonge hem to embrace,
Ȝif þei hym founde in oportune place,

651

With al her myȝt and her besy þouȝt—
From her hondis þat he eskape nouȝt
Til he hym silfe avenged on hym be.
And so bifel, as þei Menon se,
Þe nexte morwe like a manly knyȝt
Ageyn þe Grekis armyd for to fiȝt
On Troye side as he was wont to do—
Of auenture þat day it fil so,
Þat Achilles and þis Menon mette:
And eche of hem gan on oþer sette
On horse-bak, of ful gret envie;
And so longe in her malencolye,
Myn auctor writ, þei to-gidre fiȝt,
Þat eche made oþer of force to aliȝt.
And whan Menon stood vpon þe grounde,
Mirundones went aboute hym rounde,
As þei wer charged of þe ferse Achille—
Whan he, allas! with-oute Goddes wille,
Disseuered was from his knyȝtes alle.
And at meschef þei vp-on hym falle,
Destitut, allone, and help[e]les,
And in swiche point slowe hym Achilles.
But in þe story like as it is founde,
Þis Menon first ȝaf hym swiche a wounde,
To-forn his deth in al þis felle strif,
Þat he dispeired was, pleinly, of his lyf—
Þis Achilles, for al his false tresoun.
Take hede, Omer, & deme in þi resoun
Þe false fraude and þe sleiȝti gyle,
Þe tresoun caste to-forn with many wyle
Of Achilles; and Iuge now a-riȝt,
Ȝif euere he slowe any worþi knyȝt,
But it were by prodicioun—
Record I take of þe kyng Menoun:
So þat þe title of his laude, allas,

652

Entriked is with fraude & with fallas,
Þat þou, Omer, maist with no colour,
Þouȝ þou peinte with gold & with aȝour,
In þi writyng his venym nat enclose;
But as þe þorn hid vnder þe rose,
Whos malys ay dareth by þe rote,
Þouȝ þe flour a-boue be fayr & sote,
Þat men þe fraude vnder may nat se—
Of his tresoun ȝe gete no more of me.

The missauenture and discomforde that came amonges the Trogians after the deth of Troylus.

But I wil telle how Grekis do þat day,
—How Meneste and kyng Menelay,
Dyomede and Thelamonyus
On Troyens wern passyng dispitous:
For cruelly with her wardis alle,
In her meschef ben vp-on hem falle,
And made hem fle hom vn-to þe toun.
For whilom Troylus, þat was her champioun,
Is ded, allas! & hath hem now forsake.
Of whom þei haue þe ded[e] body take
Þe same day, wiþ gret diffyculte,
And dolfully in-to þe cyte
Þei han it brouȝt, criyng ofte “allas!”
And for his deth swiche a wo þer was,
Þat I trowe þer is no man a-lyue
Whiche koude ariȝt haluendel discryue
Her pitous wo nor lamentacioun:
Certis not Boys, þat had[de] swiche renoun,
With drery wordis to be-wepe and crye
In compleynynge to philosophie,
Þoruȝ his boke accusynge ay Fortune,
Þat seld or nouȝt can in oon contune—
She is so ful of transmutacioun.

653

O Stace of Thebes, make no bost nor soun
Of drerinesse for to write at al,
Nouþer of deth nor festis funeral,
Of makyng sorwe nor aduersite;
Late be þi wepynge, o þou Nyobe,
Ȝe suster also of Melleager,
Þat custom han for to fle so fer,
From ȝer to ȝere ȝoure broþer to compleyne;
And þou þat weptist oute þin eyen tweyne,
Edippus, kyng of Thebes þe cyte,
Þou woful Mirre, and Calixtone,
Þat so wel can in rage ȝou be-mene,
And Dido eke, of Cartage quene,—
Lat be ȝoure dool and contricioun!
And Philis eke, for þi Demephoun,
And Echcho eke, þat now dost be-gynne
To crie & waille, & also þou Corrynne,
Þat whilom were in so gret affray
For deth only of þi popyngay,
As in his boke telleþ vs Ouyde,—
Late al þis wo now be leide a-side,
And make of hit no comparisoun
Vn-to þe wo þat was in Troye toun
For deth only of þis worþi knyȝt!
For loue of whom, euery maner wiȝt,
Hiȝe & lowe, olde & ȝonge of age,
Are falle of newe in-to swiche a rage
Þat þei coude of her wo noon ende;
Whos salt[e] teris wil her eyen shende,
So pitous was þe lamentacioun
In euery strete þoruȝ-oute al þe toun.
Allas! who koude al her sorwes telle?—
I trowe, certis, Pluto depe in helle,
For al his torment & his peynes kene—

654

Nouþer she, Proserpina his quene,
Nouþer þe wery wode Tycyus,
Ixioun, nor hungri Tantalus
Ne coude nat, for al her bitter peyne,
So furiously wepen & compleyne
As don Troyens, Troylus, for þi sake.
For who can now swiche a sorwe make,
Or who can wepe as kyng Priamus?
Who wepeth now, with face ful pitous,
Or maketh sorwe but Eccuba þe quene?
Who wepeth now but faire Polycene?
Who wepeth now but Paris & Eleyne?
Who can now wepe or in-to teris reyne
As do Troyens, with dedly swolle chere?
It neded hem no wepers for to here,—
Þei hadde I-nowe of her owne stoor,
Allas, for now þei ben for euermor
Of helpe al sool, of counfort destitut.
For who shal now ben to hem refut,
Now þat Hector and also Dephebus
And Troylus eke, þat was so vertuous,
Be dede, allas!—who shal her socour be,
Or sustene þe werre of her cyte?
Þer is no more, in conclusioun,
But after deth fully destruccioun
Of her touris and her wallis stronge.
In þis mater what shulde I pleyne longe?—
It vailleth nat alweye so to mourne,
Wherfore, I wil new ageyn retourne
To my mater, and telle how þe kynge
To Grekis haþ, with-oute more tariynge,
For a trewe and a pes y-sent,
A certeyn tyme, by gret avisement,
Whiche graunted was of Agamenoun.
And whan þei were repeired to þe toun,

655

Kyng Priamvs dide his besy cure
For to make a riche sepulture
For Troylus cors, ful noble and rial,
As seith Guydo, of stonys & metal,
And hym enclosed, of gret affectioun.
And nyȝe beside was þe kyng Menoun
Solemnely buried and y-graue.
And after þat, day by day þei haue,
Lyke þe custom, of festis funeral
And oþer ritys Ceremonyal,
For hem boþe, with due obseruaunce,
Seruyse doon by contynuaunce
In her temple, lyk as was þe gyse,
Whiche were to longe me [for] to deuyse,
And tedius eke for ȝou to dwelle.

How Achilles was slayne by Paris in the Temple of Apollo, by the deuice [of] Eccuba þe quene.

But I purpose ceriously to telle
How Eccuba, as I can endyte,
Hir caste fully Achilles to quyte
His tyranny, sothly, ȝif she may.
And vn-to hir she calleth on a day
Alysaundre, in ful secre wyse,
And vn-to hym, as I shal deuyse,
With wepynge eyen & ful heuy chere
Seide euene þus, lyk as ȝe shal here:
“Parys,” quod she, “allas, sauf Goddis wille,
Þou knowest wel how þe ferse Achille
My sonys hath slay[e]n nyȝe echon—
Þer is non lefte but þi silf allone:
He hath me made (allas, þer is no geyn)
Ful cowardly, of children now bareyn—
Boþe of Hector & Troylus eke þer-to,
Whiche were to me in euery trouble & wo

656

Fully counfort, plesaunce, and solace.
Wherfore, I caste pleynly to compasse,
By som engyn his deth to ordeyne;
And lyke as he by tresoun dide his peyne,
Traytourly with his swerd to smyte,
Riȝt so, I þink, with tresoun hym to quyte,
As sittyng is of riȝt and equyte.
And sith þou wost pleynly how þat he
Hath sette his herte & his loue clene
On my douȝter, ȝonge Polycene,
To fyn only to hauen hir to wyve—
For whiche I caste to hym sende blyve
For to come and trete of þat mater
In þe temple of Appollo here—
In þe temple, most chef of þis cite.
Whiche tyme, my wil is þat þou be
Þi siluen armyd þer ful priuely,
With certeyn knyȝtes in þi company,
Armyd also ageyn þe same day,
Þat in no wyse he skape nat a-way
From ȝour hondis, but þat he be ded,
As I haue seid; and þerfor take good hed
Vn-to þis þing, with al myn herte, I praie,
Fro point to point my biddyng to abeie.”
And he assenteþ with al his hool[e] herte,
Behotyng hir he shulde nat asterte.
And with hym toke twenty & no mo
Of manly men, þat wel durste do;
And in þe temple, by ful good avys,
Þei wern y-hyd by byddyng of Paris,
While Eccuba, couert in hir entent,
Hir Messager to Achilles hathe sent,
As ȝe han herde, in conclusioun,
To come in haste vn-to Troye toun
After þeffect was of hir message,

657

Only to trete for a mariage.
And he in haste cometh at hir sonde,
As he þat koude no þing vndirstonde
Hir tresoun hid, nor pleinly it aduerte:
He was so hote marked in his herte
With Louys brond & his firy glede,
Of lyf nor deth þat he toke noon hede,
But sette a-side wit and al resoun,
To caste a-forn by gode discrecioun
What was to do, with lokyng ful prudent.
But he, in soth, was with love blent,
In-to Troye w[h]an he shulde goon,
Lyke as it fareth of lovers euerychon:
Whanne þei haue kauȝt in herte a fantasie,
For no pereil, þouȝ þei shuld[e] deye,
Þei haue no myȝt nor power to be ware,
Til þei vnwarly be trapped in þe snare,
Her maladie is so furious.
And þus Achilles and Anthilogus,
Nestoris sone, han þe weye nome
Toward þe toun, & ben to-gidre come
In-to [þe] temple, as ȝe han herd me telle.
And Paris þo list no lenger duelle,
But, vnwarly, with his knyȝtes alle
On Achilles is at meschef falle,
Eueryche of hem with a swerd ful briȝt.
And somme bokis seyn it was by nyȝt,
Whan his deth, longe a-forn desired,
By Eccuba & Paris was conspired.
But Achilles in þis mortal caas,
Amonge hem alle, naked as he was,
Hent oute a swerde in þe silve steuene,
And like a knyȝt he slow of hem seuene
Of verray force, maugre al her myȝt.
But whan Paris þer-of hadde a siȝt,
Þre dartes rauȝt þat were kene & square,
And sodeinly, or þat he was ware,

658

Ful secrely hid vnder þe shade,
Markyng at hym, & no noyse made,
Caste at hym euene as euere he can,
Þat hed & shafte þoruȝ his body ran;
And þer-with[-al] knyȝtes nat a fewe
With sharp[e] swerdis gan vp-on him hewe,
And left hym nat til he lay at grounde
Ful pale ded, with many mortal wounde.
And riȝtfully, of resoun as it sit,
Þus was þe fraude & þe falshede quit
Of Achilles, for his hiȝe tresoun:
As deth for deth is skilfully guerdoun
And egal mede, with-outen any fable,
To hem þat be merciles vengable.
For þilke day, Guydo writeþ þus,
Þat Achilles and Anthilogus
Of Paris wern in þe temple slawe;
And afterward þe body was out drawe
Of Achille fro þe holy boundis,
And cruelly þrowen vn-to houndis
To be deuourid in þe brode strete,
Þe canel rennynge with his wawes wete—
With-oute pite or any maner routhe.
Loo! here þe ende of falshed & vntrouþe,
Loo! here þe fyn of swiche trecherie,
Of fals deceit compassid by envie!
Loo! here þe knot and conclusioun,
How God quyt ay slauȝter by tresoun!
Loo! here þe guerdoun & þe final mede
Of hem þat so deliten in falsehede:
For euery þing, platly for to seyne,
Like as it is, his guerdoun doth atteyne,
As ȝe may se of þis Achilles,
Whiche on a nyȝt in þe temple les
His lyf; for he was ay customable
By fraude & tresoun for to be vengable.
But it befel, at request of Eleyne,
Þat þe bodies of þis ilke tweyne

659

Conservid wern from þe hungri rage
Of best and foule, gredy & ramage.
And ȝit þe[i] laie amyddes þe cite
Ful openly, þat men myȝt [hem] se,
To gret[e] gladnes to hem of þe toun,
In-to tyme þat Agamenoun
To kyng Priam sent his massageris
To haue licence to fet hem hom on beris;
By graunt of whom þei han þe corsis take.
For whom Grekis swiche a sorwe make,
Þat pite was and routhe for to here.
And eueryche spake þus vn-to his fere:
“Fare wel oure trust, now Achilles is dede!
Fare wel oure hope, & holly al our spede!
Fare wel oure Ioye, & oure chef diffence,
Þat had in manhod so gret excellence!
Fare wel, allas! oure souereyn assuraunce!
Fare wel in knyȝthod al oure suffisaunce,
For now, allas! vnlikly is þat we
Shal euere wynne or geten þis cite—
To vs, allas, so frowarde is fortune!”
But for þat þei myȝt[e] nat contune
Alweye in wo, nor in peyne endure,
Þei maked han a riche sepulture
To Achilles of stonys precious,
And a-noþer to Anthilogus.
What shuld I now any lenger dwelle
Ceriously þe rytis for to telle
Of her buriyng?—nor what wo þei make?—
Her wepyng al, nor of her cloþes blake,
Nor how somme louren in her hood,
And how somme go with mylke & blood,
With doolful herte, & in-to fire it shede?—
And how oþer caste gommys swete

660

Amyd þe grete flawme funeral,
Nor of þe pleies called palestral,
Nor þe wrastelyng þat was at þe wake?—
It were but vein me to vndirtake
To tellen al; wher-fore I lete be,
Fully in purpos, like as ȝe shal se,
To resorte, in conclusioun,
To telle how þe grete Agamenoun
For his lordis in al hast haþ sent.
And whan þei wern assemblid in his tent,
Ful prudently þis kyng, þis manly man
Wiþ gret avis þus his tale began:

How the Grekes, after that Achilles was slayne, toke their councell to fecche Pirrus his son.

“Sirs,” quod he, “Fortunys variaunce,
Hir cher fraward & dowble countenaunce,
And sodeyn torn of hir false visage
Ȝoure hertis-hath putte in swich a rage
For þe mordre, to God & man odible,
Of Achilles, cruel and orible,
By compassyng of Eccuba þe quene.
Now semeth me þat it shal be sene
Ȝif any manhod in ȝoure hertis be,
Or knyȝtly force, in aduersite
For tendure by vertu of sufferaunce,
Til of his deth ȝe take may vengaunce,
And manly quyte þis outragous offence,
Whan tyme cometh to make recompence.
But sith þat ȝe be manly and prudent,
I wolde first se þe pleyn entent
In þis mater of ȝow þat be so wyse,
Here-vppon what is ȝoure a-vyse,
By oon assent & voys in comwne:

661

Wher þat ȝe wil þe werre forþe contune,
And þe sege [y-]gonne vppon þis toun,
Til þei be brouȝt to confusioun,—
Or in-to Grece now resorte ageyn
For cause only [þat] Achilles is slayn,
Þat whilom was ȝoure stronge champioun,
Ȝoure diffence and proteccioun,—
But finally now þat he is dede:
Here-vppon, late se what is ȝoure rede—
Seith openly, and no lenger tarie.”
And somme anon gonne for to varie
And to grucche, castynge to and fro,
Stondynge in doute what wer best to do.
And some seide, on þe toþer syde,
For lyf or deth þei wolde an ende abide.
And somme of hem þat of wit were rude,
For her party gonne to conclude,
Þat þei wold home ageyn retourne.
And oþer seide þat þei wil soiorne
Stille at þe sege, hap what hap[pe] may.
And þus þei treten al þe longe day,
Euery man like his oppinioun,
Til at þe laste, in conclusioun,
Þei ben accorded fully in-to oon,
Fro þe sege neuer for to goon
Vn-to þe tyme þei haue of þe toun
Þoruȝ her knyȝthod ful possessioun,
At her fre wil to spillen and to saue,
Al-be Achilles was buried & y-graue.
For þe trust of euery worþi knyȝt
Was finally, as goddes han be-hiȝt,
Þat þei in hast shal þe toun possede:
Þis was hir hope, fully deuoide of drede,
Vndispeired in ther oppinioun.
And þanne anoon Aiax Thelamoun,
A worþi knyȝt, & famus of his hond
Among alle þo of þe Grekis lond,

662

Seide euene þus, pleinly in sentence:
“Sirs,” quod he, “þat ben here in presence,
My counseille is, platly, & my red,
Now it stant so þat Achilles is ded,
For his sone in al haste to sende
Heder to come for to sen an ende
Of þe sege, and helpe vs in þis nede,
Whiche now abit with kyng Lycomede,
His bisaiel; and named is Pirrus.
And some hym calle Neptolonyus,
Riȝt lusty, fresshe, &, by liklynes,
Able to atteyne to gret worþines,
As þe report & þe fame is kouthe,
Ȝif he him drawe to armys in his ȝouþe.
And sothfastly, but if bokes lye,
As I have red & herd by prophesye,
Þat finally Troye þe cyte
With-outen hym shal neuere wonne be—
Þus bokes seyn, þat ben of olde memorie—
And how Grekis shal haue no victorie
Til he come, þis sone of Achilles:
Wherfore, in haste, & beth nat rek[e]les,
Sendeth for hym, þat it be don anon.”
And þei commende his conseil euerychon,
And to his red fully hem assent.
And by avys ful prudently þei sent
In al haste on þis embassiat
Þe wyse kyng, ful famus of estat,—
I mene [þe] prudent noble Menelay.
And forþe he goth þe silfe same day,
And on his Iourne gan him fast[e] spede
Til þat he cam vn-to Lycomede,
Þe olde kyng, as ȝe han herd me telle,
Wher for a tyme I wil leue him dwelle,
And to Grekis in þe mene whyle,
So as I can, directe ageyn my stile.

663

How the Grekes held a great batayle agay[n]st the Troyans; and how duke Meneste slew Polidamas, a troyen knyght; and how Paris slew kynge Thelamon with an arowe.

The tyme of ȝer whan þe shene sonne
In þe Crabbe had his cours I-ronne
To þe hiȝest of his ascencioun,
Whiche called is þe somer stacioun,
Whan þe vertu oute of euery rote
Is drawen vp, and þe bawme soote
In-to þe croppe; & þe freshe floure
Moste lusty is of hewe & of coloure,
Til Phebus chare, in his discencioun,
Oute of þe Crabbe toward þe Lyoun
Holdeth his course in þe firmament—
I mene whan he is retrogradient,
And drieþ vp þe moysture & þe weete
Of herbe & floure with his feruent hete;
And al þat ver a-forn him made grene,
To whyte he turneth with his bemys shene—
Boþe seed and greyn be decoccioun:
For naturelly by digestioun,
Þat first was raw in fruitis & in flouris,
And watrie eke be plente of humours,
He drieth vp and ripeth at þe fulle
With his feruence, þat men may hem pulle,
Eche in his kynde, after þe sesoun,
Fro ȝer to ȝer by reuolucioun,
On her braunchis freshely as þei sprede:
Whan þat cheries plowbly ben & rede,
First in Iune, þat sweth after May,
Whan þe hote mery somers day
No dwery is, but like a geant longe—
Þe same tyme, þe Grekis, stoute & stronge,
With rancour brent of her envious hete,

664

Hath shapen hem with her foon to mete;
And briȝt armed in-to þe feld þei go.
And þei of Troye oute of þe toun also,
With her wardis ordeyned euerychon,
Þe feld haue take to mete with her foon,
And gan tassemble vp-on ouþer syde.
But Thelamoun, of foly and of pride,
Þe same day (of hym as I rede),
As he þat had of his deth no drede,
Disarmed was for batail of a-reste,
Of mail and plate bare vp-on þe brest:
For of foly and surquedous outrage,
Bare his hed, and bare eke his visage,
And bare also, with-oute basenet,
And naked eke of viser and palet
He rood alday, of no þing afferd,
Havyng no wepene but a naked swerd.
For wilfully he left at home his shelde
And his spere whan he toke þe feld,
Ful lyk a knyȝt sittynge on his stede.
And after hym folweth Dyomede,
Like Mars hym silfe, aboute him his meyne,
And faste by cam duke Meneste,
Kyng Vlixes, and Agamenoun.
And Priamus with hem of Troye toun
Toke eke þe feld, with a ful hevy chere:
For he was boþe ferful & in were,
In gret dispeire and inly ful of drede
To issen out, now Hector was dede—
Worþi Troylus and also Dephebus—
For in hym silfe he dempte pleynly þus:
Þat he was febled gretly of his myȝt
With-oute hem with Grekis for to fiȝt;
But oute he goth, hap what hap[pe] may,
And Parys eke, ful knyȝtly of array,

665

Kyng Philymene and Pollydamas,
Worþi Esdre, and with hym Eneas—
By oon assent, þer is no more to seie,
Þe same day, knyȝtly to lyue or deye
In her diffence, and outerly iuparte,
As goddes list, þe felde to departe.
And proudly first þe Grekes þei gan perce;
And Paris þo, with hem þat wern of Perce,
Fil in a-side wiþ þe sonne shene;
And his archeris with arowes square & kene
Þe Grekis gan assondre to disseuere:
For in þe feld þei myȝt[e] not perseuere,
Only for shot of þe strong archeris
Of Perce lond, and þe arblasteris,
Whiche made hem fle, riȝt of verray nede,
In-to þe tyme þat proude Diomede,
Whan he of Grekis saw þe sodeyn fliȝt,
Hem to releue, lyk a manly knyȝt
Is come vppon felly in his tene.
And first of al he sette on Phylymene,
A worþi kyng, þat cam on Troye syde;
Þe whiche ageyn gan at hym [to] ride,
Þat Diomede hath but litel wonne,
With swerdis stif as þei to-geder ronne—
Þat to behold it was a noble siȝt,
How eche of hem quyt hym like a knyȝt,
As þei to-gider ran on horse-bak,
Þat no man koude in nouþer se no lak.
But euere in on Troyens were so felle
Vp-on Grekis, þat þei ne myȝt[e] dwelle
To kepe her lond, so þei made hem blede,
Maugre þe force of þis Diomede.
Þe slauȝter was so hidous & so strong,
Þat þoruȝ þe feld þe woful noyse rong,

666

And mortal cry of wounded folke þat lay
Slayn on þe soyl, endelong þe way,—
Til Meneste, sittynge on his stede,
Þe worþi duke, gan to taken hede
In what meschef Grekis were be-set,
And hent anoon a spere sharp[e] whet,
Smytynge hys hors felly in þe side;
And þoruȝ þe rengis knyȝtly he gan ride,
And stint[e] nat, so furious he was,
Til þat he mette with Pollydamas,
A Troyan knyȝt and a manly man;
And vnwarly, at hym as he ran,
He hitte hym so, in many mannes siȝt,
To þe erþe þat he made hym a-liȝt;
And with a swirde, at grounde whan he lay,
He hadde him slawe þe silfe same day
In his rage and his cruel tene,
Nadde only be þat kyng Phylymene
Had hym reskwed in þis auenture,
Which so frendly for hym dide his cure,
Maugre þe myȝt of þis Meneste,
From his hondis þat he went[e] fre,
Al forbaþed & be-spreint with blood.
And al þis while Aiax proudly rood,
Of surquedie and of wilfulnes,
Of foly rage and foule hardynes,
Naked his body, hed, and euerydel,
Amyd his foon armed briȝt in stele,
And of Troyens swiche a slauȝter made
Þat þei lay dede, boþe in sonne & shade,
Þoroȝ-oute þe feld, where þis Thelamoun
Amonge hem rod woder þan lyoun—
Þat Troyen noon myȝt[e] hym withstonde
While þat he held his blodi swerd in hond,

667

Þat wonder was, naked as he rood,
With-oute wounde þat he so longe a-bood.
And, as Guydo makeþ rehersaille,
And writeþ eke for a gret mervaille,
Þat he vnslayn myȝt[e] so contune:
But whan a þing is shapen of Fortune,
It mote be-falle, what-euere þing it be,
In wele or wo, Ioye or aduersite—
Whan oon shal deye or whan he shal eskape.
But she, allas! can alder-best be-iape,
And bring a man vnwarly to meschaunce
Whan he best weneth to han assuraunce
In þis lady of transmutacioun,
Lik as it fil of worþi Thelamoun
Þis same day, whiche of foly pride
Amonge his foon gan so fer to ride,
I-liche freshe, riȝt as he be-gan,
And slowe of Perce many manly man,
And of hym silfe toke no maner hede,
His knyȝtly hert so voyde was of drede.
Til Paris sawe his gret[e] hardines,
And how þat he his knyȝtes dide oppresse,
Enchasyng hem so mortally & narwe:
With-oute abood anon he toke an arwe,
Entoxicat, sharpe, & venemous,
And in his Ire fel and despitous,
And shet at hym in þe silfe tyde,
As seith Guydo, and smet hym þoruȝ þe side,
Þat of þat hurte—þer is no more to seie—
He felte wel þat he muste deye.
And whan he sawe noon oþer remedie,
Forþe he rood, supprised with envie,
Þoruȝ-oute þe pres, his swerd ay in his hond,
In-to tyme þat he Paris fonde,
And vn-to hym, with a pale chere,
He seide þus, anon as ȝe shal here:

668

How Kyng Thelamon, after that he had his dethes wounde of Paris, Slew Paris after, with a sworde.

“Parys,” quod he, “as þis mortal wounde
Of þin arwe, sharpe & square y-grounde,
Hath finally my lyf put in dispeire,
Neuere in-to Grece for to han repeire,
Riȝt so shal I, be short conclusioun,
A weye shape, þat in-to Troye toun
With þi lyf þou entre shalt no more,
At myn hert þe venym bit so sore,
Þat oþer geyn is þer noon but deth.
But ȝit to-forn or I ȝelde vp þe breth,
Trust me riȝt wel, þer may be no socour,
Þat þou shalt first be my predecessour
And gon a-forn, depe doun in helle,
Þer with Pluto eternally to dwelle,
So as of riȝt it is necessarie:
Þe tyme is set, whiche may nat tarie,
And my trouþe for morgage in depos,
Þat in al haste I shal make a dyvos
Atwixe þe and þe quene Eleyne,
And twynne assonder eke þe false cheyne
Whiche lynked was by colour of wedlok,
And hath so longe be shet vnder loke
Only by fraude & false engyn also.
But now þe knot shal be broke a-two,
With my riȝt hond, þe trouþe to darreyne;
For þoruȝ cause only of ȝow tweyne,
In þis werre many worþi knyȝt
His lyf hath lost, & many an-oþer wyȝt,
On ouþer side, for ȝoure boþe sake.
But of al þis I shal an ende make—
Of ȝoure loue & foule avoutr[i]e:
For, finally, Paris, þou shalt dye

669

Of myn hondis, as it is þi chaunce!”
And with þat word his swerd he gan enhaunce
A-boue his hed, & smet hym in þe face,
Þat he fil ded in þe silve place;
For his hed he parted hath on tweyne.
And riȝt furþe-with, þer is no more to seyne,
Aiax, allas, of his mortal wounde
Fil ded also, gruf vn-to þe grounde
Ful pitously; & þanne þei of Troye
Han Paris take vp oute of þe woye,
And bare hym hom in-to her cite.
But Diomede & duke Meneste,
With many Greke ridynge enviroun,
Swen þe chaas euene to þe toun;
But for cause Titan gan to lowe,
Doun by þe arche of his daies bowe
Fer in-to weste, vnder þe rowes rede,
And Espirus gan his liȝt to shede
—Þis to seyn, for it drowe to nyȝt,—
Þe Grekis ben repeired anoon riȝt,
Eueryche of hem to his loggynge place
To take her reste al þat nyȝtes space—
Saue, as I rede, þat Agamenoun
Þe Grekis made fast[e] by þe toun
To sette her tentis and papillyouns,
Habitacles, and newe mansiouns,
Of verray pride faste by þe wal.
And þei of Troye, dispeired oueral,
No refut koude Grekis for to lette,
But of assent fast her gates shette,
And al þe nyȝt on þe wallis wake,
And ouere þis, swiche a wo þei make
Þoruȝ þe cite, þat Paris was so ded;
For, finally, now þei can no red,
But wepe & crye & sorwern euere in oon,

670

Now alle þe sonys of Priamus wer goon!
Fortune, allas! hath hem so appeired,
Þat of her lyf þei ben dis[es]peired,
Of al hope and of good welfare—
Perpetuelly for to lyue in care
Vn-to her deth; and þat was fast[e] by:
For now þer is no maner remedie
Vp-on no syde, nor refut noon at al,
But hem to kepe clos with-Inne wal,
Þat for to sen it was a pitous þing.
And swiche a wo makeþ now þe kyng
For Paris deth, þat for dedly smerte
Hym þouȝt[e] platly þat his sorful herte
Recurles wold[e] riue a-tw[e]yne;
And in-to terys he gan stille and reyne,
As he wolde for verray sorwe deye.
And of þe quene, allas! what shal I seye,
Eccuba his owne moder dere,
Þat crieth, wepeth with a woful chere—
Of Polycene, þat was so wo-be-goon,
And of his sustren also euerychoon,
Þat han her heer & her cloþes torn,
As þei had her owne deth [y-]sworn,
For drery wo, and for pitous peyne.
But for-by alle, þe faire quene Eleyne
Wailleth, crieth wiþ a dedly chere,
Þat her eyen, whiche whilom wer so clere,
For-dirked wern with doolful teris smerte.
And to þe cors sodeynly she sterte,
And clippid it in hir armys tweyne,
And pitously enbrace it and restreyne,
Like as she wolde with hym dye anoon;

671

For stille she lay, dowmbe as any stoon,
As marbil cold, hir lymys cravmpisshing,
Redy at al toward hir buriynge,
Til men by force from þe cors hir hente;
And she hir heer & hir chekes rente,
As she wer fallen in a rage,
Þat changed was, allas! in hir visage
Hir natif colour and hir rody hewe,
Whilom as fresche as any rose newe:
Now is she like vn-to asshes colde;
And with hir hondis, ay to-gider folde,
Hir silfe she smot on hir pale face;
And euere amonge þe cors she dide enbrace,
In hir swowes as she fil to grounde,
Twenty tyme, and wepte ful his wounde.
With wo she was so waped and amaat,
Of al counfort, allas! disconsolat,
In herte beyng inly desirous,
Þoruȝ hir rage passyng furious,
To deye attonys with hir owne knyȝt;
And toward deth enclosid was hir siȝt,
As she þat lyst to lyve now no more.
I trow[e] þat neuer man be-fore
No woman sawe falle in swiche distresse,
In swiche disioint of dedly hevynes,
Nor for no wo so pitously raue:
Nat Cleopatre goynge to hir graue,
Nor woful Tesbe, þat fro þe kave sterte,
Whan she hir silfe smote vn-to þe herte,
Nor þe feithful trewe Orestille,
Whan þat she sawe hir lord ageyn hir wille,
Marcus Plancus, vn-to shipe goon,
And for his love fil doun ded anon,
Nor þe sorwe of trewe Iulya,
Nor þe feruence of feithful Porcia,

672

Of whiche þe ton fil ded sodeynly,
For she sawe blood spreint so cruelly
On hir lordis dredful garnement,
And Porcia, so trewe in hir entent,
Whan þat hir lord Brutus lost his lyf,
For be-cause she myȝt haue no knyfe,
Wiþ colys rede slowe hir silfe, allas!
Was nat also in þe silfe caas
Arthemysya, quene of Tarse lond?—
Of Mausolus þe graue whan she fond,
Hir owne knyȝt, of whos bonis smale,
Ful wofully, & with a cher riȝt pale,
She powder made, & drank it euery morwe.
But al þe wo and þe furious sorwe
Of þese echon ȝet may nat atteyne
Vn-to þe sorwe of þe quene Eleyne,
Þat finally wil hir silfe for-do
For Paris sake, whom she loued so:
For after hym she wil nat lyve a day,
But ben awreke, pleynly, ȝif she may,
Vp-on hir lyf rather þanne disseuere.
And þus in wo ay she doth perseuere,
In hir hert Paris sat so depe.
Allas! who seith wommen can nat wepe!—
Ȝet dout[e]les þei haue it of nature,
Þouȝ it so be þat þei no wo endure,
Ȝit can þei feyne and salt[e] teris fynde,
Plente y-nowe, of her owne kynde,
And sorweles mornen and compleyne.
I seie nat þis for þe quene Eleyne,
Þat was with wo wounded to þe herte,
Þat fro þe deth she wend[e] nat a-sterte;
For deþis darte hir herte made ryve,
And ȝit she roos ageyn fro deth to lyve,

673

Only by grace, for al hir fel[le] rage:
For euery wo by processe muste aswage,
And ouergon and wasten by myracle;
For eche venym maked is triacle,
And euery wo hath his remedie.
For þouȝ Eleyne fayn[e] wolde die,
Hir kynde nolde assent[e] ȝet þer-to,
So sodeinly to slen hir silfe for wo:
She was a womman, no man shuld her wyte!
Me liste no more of hir wo endite,
List vn-to ȝou þat it were tedious
To heren alle hir peynes furious,
Hir cruel wo and lamentacioun,
Whiche wold[e] meve to compassioun,
In verray soth—to writen euerydel—
Any herte þouȝ it were made of stel.
For kyng Priam and þe quene also
Hadden swiche routh of her pitous wo,
To sene hir so wepen and compleyne,
Þat for hir þei felt as moche peyne
As þei dide al-most for Paris.
Her-of no more: for Priam by devys,
After þis rage and þis mortal wo,
Amyd þe temple sacrid to Iuno
Ordeyned hath, wiþ ful besy cure,
For þe cors a riche sepulture,
And in al haste þer-in made it shette,
Þat in sothnes ȝiffe I shulde lette
To tellen al þe ritis and þe guyse
Þat þer wer made in her peynym wyse,
And þe costis of his buriynge,
It shuld[e] be to longe a tariynge,
Ceriously þer-on to abyde,
Wherfore, as now I lete ouerslyde
Her peynym ritys supersticious.

674

How Kyng Pryam kepte the Citee of Troye, And durste no lengere holde Batayle agaynst the Grekes; and how the quene of Amaȝonis came, with other of her ladies, to helpe the Troyans.

And telle I wil how kyng Priamus
Commaunded haþ, of meschef & of nede,
Þoruȝ Troye toun, only of verray drede,
To shette her gatis strongly as þei may,
And þer-vppon, boþe nyȝt and day
To kepe wache: for, shortly, þei of Troye,
Disconsolat of al her olde Ioye,
Can no refut, but wepe and sorwe make;
For þei ne durst no more vndirtake
Ageyn Grekis in-to feld to goon.
Til on a day kyng Agamenoun
His messager by good avisement
To Priamus in-to Troye hath sent,
Requeryng hym, of manhod like a knyȝt,
To issen oute with Grekis for to fiȝt,
As he was wont, with his chiualrie.
But kyng Priam his axyng gan denye,
And shortly seide to hym þat was sent,
Þat he ne wolde at his assygnement
Nat onys passe þe gatis of þe toun,
But at his owne fre eleccioun,
Whan-euere hym list, with outen compellyng.
And ȝit, in soth, cause of his tariynge
Was for þe hardy quene of Femynye
Toward Troye faste gan hir hiȝe
Oute of hir lond, a litel regioun,
Þe whiche, as bokis make mencioun,
After þe syyt of þe firmament
Is in þe plage of þe orient,
And called is þe regne of Amaȝonys,

675

Of whiche þe custom[e] & þe wone ys,
Þat only wommen þer-in shal abide:
And þei ar wont armyd for to ryde,
And han in armys gret experience;
For her labour & her dilligence
Is finally to hauen excersyce
Fro day to day in Martis hiȝe seruyse.
And ouer-more, her custom and vsaunce,
As to þis day is maked remembraunce,
Is þat no man shal hem nyȝe ner,
But ȝif it be þre monþes in þe ȝer:
Þis to seyn, In Iune, April, & May;
And þan þe wommen han in custom ay
Vn-to an yle a litel þer be-syde,
Wher as þe men by hem silfe abide
Fro ȝere to ȝere to-gidre euerychon,
Vn-to þe men oute of her lond to gon,
And þere abide in þat regioun
Til tyme cometh of concepcioun,
With-oute tariynge any lenger while;
For þanne anoon home vn-to her Ile
Þei repeire oute of þat contre
Vn-to tyme þat þei delyuered be.
And as faste as þe childe is born,
For lak of kepynge þat it be nat lorn,
He fostrid is, til þre ȝere be a-goon,
Amonge þe wommen; & þanne riȝt anon
To þe Ile besiden adiacent,
Vn-to þe men þe childe in haste is sent,
Ȝif þat it be of kynde masculyn.
And ȝif it falle þat it be femynyn,
With þe wommen abide stille it shal
Til þat it be in actis marcial
Ful wel experte, & þat she can eke knowe
To handle a spere or to drawe a bowe,
Lyke þe statutis of þat regioun,

676

Þe whiche, as bokes make mencioun,
Is set be-twene Ewrope & Asya.
And of þis lond was Pantysyllya
Whilom lady and gouerneresse,
Ful renomed of strengþe & hardynes
Þoruȝ-oute þe world, boþe in lengþe & brede;
And ȝit, in soth, to speke of wommanhede,
For al her myȝt she had an huge pris,
For boþe she was vertuous and wys,
Wonder discret, & had an honest name,
Nat-withstondynge þe excelle of fame
Of hir renoun in armys and þe glorie:
For of conquest and of hiȝe victorie
She was most surmovntyng, out of drede,
Of any womman þat I can of rede;
And, sothly, ȝit bokes bere witnesse,
Of wommanhede and of gentilnesse
She kepte hir so þat no þinge hir a-sterte.
Þe whiche loued with al hir hool[e] herte
Worþi Hector, and with al her myȝt,
Only for he was so noble a knyȝt,
Þat hir Ioye & worldly plesaunce,
Hir hertly ese & souereyne soffisaunce,
In verray soth, where she wake or winke,
Was euere in oon vp-on hym to þinke,
Of verray feith, with-outen any slouþe.
And vn-to hym she was be bond of trouþe,
Confederat of olde affeccioun,
Þat whan she herd how þat Troye toun
Besegid was of þe Grekis felle,
Þis hardy quene liste no lenger dwelle,
But hasteth hir, as fast as euere she may,
Toward Troye in ful good array
With alle þe worþi wommen of hir londe,
Ful wel expert & preved of her honde,
Wel horsed eke, and armed richely.

677

And, as I fynde, in her company,
A þousand maidenes ridinge by her side,
Þis worþi quene, þat durst[e] wel abide,
She with hir brouȝt, in steel armyd briȝt,
For loue of Hector, hir owne trewe knyȝt.
And on hir weie fast she gan hir spede
To helpen hym ȝif she seie nede:
For in no þinge she koude hir more delite
Þanne towarde hym feithfully hir quyte,
For þat was al hir lust & hertis Ioye.
But whan þat she comen was to Troye,
And herde telle by relacioun
Þat he was ded, most worþi of renoun,
To whom she was so lovinge & so trewe,
Anoon she gan to chaungen cher and hewe,
And pitously for to wepe & crye,
And ferd in soth as she wold[e] deye
For verray wo and hertly hevynes,
And þouȝt she wold þoruȝ hir worþines
Avenge his deth, platly, ȝif she may,
On þe Grekis; and so vppon a day
She preieth Priam, with gret affeccioun,
For to oppene þe gatis of þe toun,
And to gon oute with Grekis for to fiȝt
Þat þei may knowe & be expert ariȝt
Of þis womman þe grete worþines,
And of þis quene þe famous hardines.
And so þe kyng, hopynge for þe beste,
With-oute abood graunted hir requeste
Þe nexte morwe, whan Phebus shon ful shene;
And al to-forn out goth Phylymene,
Þe noble kyng, with hem of Paffaganye;
And after hym oþer knyȝtes manye
Folwed after with worþi Eneas,
Þe Troyan eke, daunȝ Pallydamas.

678

And þanne þe quene Pantasyllya
By þe gate called Dardanyca
Toward Grekis proudly Issed oute,
With hir wommen ridyng hir aboute.
Þe whiche anoon whan Grekis dide espie,
In-to þe felde gan hem faste hiȝe:
And first of alle worþi Meneste,
Pantasillia whanne he dide se,
With his sporis made his stede gon;
And with a spere rood to hir anoon,
Of whom þe quene astonyd neuer-adel,
Cauȝt eke a spere þat was squarid wel,
Ro[u]nde þe shafte, and þe hed wel grounde,
Whiche as þei coupe smet him doun to grounde,
And maugre hym reved him his stede.
But þanne in haste in cam Diomede,
And cruelly to þe quene gan ride;
And she as faste on þe toþer side
Rood eke to hym, in platis briȝt & shene;
And as þei mette with her speris kene,
She hitte so þis felle Diomede,
For al his myȝt and his manlyhede,
Þat she hym made his sadel for to lese
—Þer is no more, he myȝt[e] þo nat chese.
And in dispite of his men echon,
She hath his sheld hym beraft anoon,
And it delyuereth, proudly as she rood,
To a maide þat vppon hir abood.

How Pantasilia toke Thelamon prisoner.

And like a tigre in his gredinesse,
Or like, in soth, to a lyounesse,
Þat day she ferde, ridynge vp & doun
Amonge þe Grekis, til þat Thelamoun
Gan beholde þe slauȝter [þat] she made,
—Of hiȝe dispit and rancour ouerlade,

679

As he þat myȝt for Ire not sustene,
Gan ren his hors to falle vppon þis quene.
But whan þat she his comynge dide espie,
She fil on hym in hir malencolye
So mortally, maugre his knyȝtes alle,
Þat to þe grounde she made him for to falle,
And Grekis put in so grete dis[a]ray,
Wher-euere she rood al þat ilke day;
For þei myȝt a-forn hir nat sustene.
And þoruȝ þe helpe of kyng Philymene,
As myn auctor recordeth in his boke,
Amyd þe feld Thelamoun she toke,
And sent hym forþe þoruȝ her hiȝe renoun
As prisoner toward Troye toun.
Til vn-to rescus cam cruel Diomede,
And cruelly on hem þat gan him lede
He fil vnwarly, with an huge route
Of his knyȝtes ridynge hym aboute,
And from her hondis, maugre al her myȝt,
He hym deliuereth like a manly knyȝt.
At whiche tyme, þis hardy quene anon,
With hir wommen aboute hir euerychon,
Þe Grekis hath a-forn hir on þe pleyn
(As writ Guydo) so mortally be-leyn,
Þat she hem made of necessite
Oute of þe feld with her swerd to fle,
Þat verrayly it was incredible,
And to leve a maner impossible,
To sene þe wommen Grekis so enchase,
Whiche myȝt[e] nat abide a-forn her face,
Nor in þe feld in any wyse stonde:
For þei hem dryve to þe silfe stronde,
Doun to þe clyf of þe salt[e] se,
And slowe of hem so huge gret plente,
Þat finally þei had[de] be distroyed
For euere-more, and outterly accloied,

680

Nadde Diomede stonde[n] at diffence,
And of knyȝthod maked resistence:
For he þat day, in parti and in al,
For Grekis stood as a sturdy wal,
And was allone her helpe & chef socour.
But for al þat, with worship & honour,
Pantasillya, as made is memorie,
Repeired is wiþ conquest and victorie,
With alle hir wommen in-to Troye toun
Vp-on þe hour of Phebus goynge doun.
And by þe side of þis hardy quene,
Armyd in stel, rood kyng Phylymene,
Whom Priamus hath with gret reuerence
Knyȝtly reseved, & dide his dilligence
Hem to refreshe with euery maner þing
Þat myȝt[e] be vn-to her likyng,
As her hertis koude best deuyse.
And after þis, in ful goodly wyse,
He þanked hath þe noble hardy quene,
Of hir goodnes þat hir lyste to sene
To helpyn hym in his grete nede,
And offrid hir (in Guydo as I rede)
Al þat he hath, tresour and richesse,
Hopynge fully þoruȝ hir worþines
Vp-on Grekis avengid for to be,
And for to kepe hym and his cite
Maugre Grekis, whiche of hem seye nay.
For, as I rede, after day be day
She stint[e] nat proudly hem tassaile,
Ageyn whos swerd þei myȝt[e] nat availe,
So mortally she made her sides blede.

How Pirrus, the son of Achilles, was Receyuyd of Kyng myrundones.

Til Menelay fro kyng Lycomede
Repeired is wiþ Neptolonyus,

681

Whiche is in bokes called eke Pirrus,
Whilom þe sone of cruel Achilles,
Whom for to sen ful huge was þe pres
Of þe Grekis goynge enviroun.
And for he was by successioun
Born to ben eyer of þis Achilles,
He was resseyued of Mirundones
With grete honour & gret solempnite,
So glad were þei her ȝong[e] lord to se,
To whom echon þei maden affiaunce,
And wern eke sworn by bonde & assurance
For lyf or deth to hym to be trewe,
As his liges, and chaunge for no newe—
To obeie his lust in al maner þing.
And after þis, Agamenoun þe kyng
Made hym knyȝt; and Thelamonivs
With a swerde girte a-noon Pirrus,
Seiynge to hym in þe silve place,
With þe baudrik whan he him dide enbrace:
“Take hede,” quod he, “myn owne cosyn dere,
To resemble in manhod & in chere,
In knyȝthod eke, and in worþinesse
To þi fader, whiche in sothfastnesse
In his tyme was so noble a knyȝt;
And ouermore, with al þi ful[le] myȝt
Tavenge his deth þat þou do þi peyne.”
And þanne of Grekis worþi dukes tweyne
Ful humblely gonne doun to knele,
And sette a spore vp-on ouþer hele,
As was þe maner, of gold bornid briȝt.
And in þis wyse Pirrus was made knyȝt,
As ȝe han herde, in ful hiȝe presence,
With gret honour and due reuerence,
Like þe custom of þe Grekis lawes
And þe rytis vsede in þo dawes.
And þanne anoon hath Agamenoun,
With ful glad chere and gret affeccioun,

682

Delyuered hym fully by sentence
Þe armys hool, with-outen difference,
Whiche Achilles be his lyve bar—
His worþi fader—on his sholdris squar,
As for next eyr of lyn[e] by discent;
And al þe tresour also & his tent,
Armvre & al, deliuered wern anoon
Vn-to Pirrus; and Grekis euerychon
Eyȝte dayes, swyng by and by,
Þoruȝ-oute þe oste, ful solempnely
Þei halwe in honour of þis ȝong[e] knyȝt.

How Pantasillia the quene and her wemen and the Troyens obtaynede a great felde agaynst the Grekys, and putt them to flyght: wich felde endured the space of iiij wekes & more.

Til on [a] morwe [whan] Phebus shoon ful briȝt,
Whiche with his liȝt þat shyneþ fro so ferre
Diffacid haþ þe stremys of þe sterre
Lucifer, þe daies Messanger,
Whan Grekis gan in platis briȝt & cler
Enarmen hem þat day, for sour or swete,
Fully in purpos with her foon to mete;
And manfully oute of her tentis wyde
Ageyn Troyens þei be-gan to ryde,
Warde after warde, proudly in-to feld.
And Pirrus bar þat day vp-on his shelde
His fadris armys, like as seit[h] Guydo;
And of þe same he hadde vp-on also
A cote armvre þat by-cam hym wel;
And forþe he rood, armed briȝt in stel,
And casuelly, formest as he was,
He mette first with Pollydamas,
A knyȝt of Troye, a ful manly man:
And furiously Pirrus to hym ran
On horse-bak, with a myȝti swerde,

683

And gan to hurtle with him in þe berde
So myȝtely, in þis hatful strif,
Pollydamas had[de] loste his lyf
Nad reskus be, with-oute more tariynge,
Of Phylymene, þe noble worþi kyng,
Only of knyȝthod & of worþines.
To whom Pirrus faste gan him dresse
With his swerd, & smet hym in þe siyȝt,
Þat from his horse he made him to a-liȝt;
For he þe strok myȝt[e] nat sustene.
And sothfastly þis worþi Philymene
Of Pirrus had y-take be anoon,
Save his knyȝtes, assemblid in-to on,
Of Pafagonye, cam hym to reskwe:
But Pirrus ay so fersly gan purswe
Vp-on þis kyng with Mirundones,
Beset in meschef amonge þe grete pres,
Þat many knyȝt of þis noble kyng
I-slay[e]n was at his reskwyng—
He stood of deth in so streit a caas.
Til of fortune cam Pollydamas
To his reskus, and dide his ful[le] myȝt
Hym to deliuere, & quyt hym lyke a knyȝt;
But, in sothnes, þere was swiche resistence
Of Pirrus knyȝtes, stondynge at diffence,
Þat ay in meschef stood kyng Philymene,
Til Pantasillya, of Femenye [þe] quene,
Wiþ hir wommen a gret companye,
Gan þis þinge of auenture espie,—
Whiche wern echon, for þe more delyt,
On her armvre þat day clad in whyt,
Þat verrayly þer was no lylye flour
Nor snowe þat flakeþ fro Iubiteris tour
Of whitnes fressher on to sene,
Þanne in þe feld was þis hardy quene,
Whiche first of alle amonge [þe] Grekes ches

684

Proudly to falle on Mirundones.
Amonges whom ridyng vp & doun,
She hem vnhorseth þoruȝ her hiȝe renoun,
And slowe of hem vp-on euery syde,
Makynge her rengis for to seuere wyde,
Til Thelamoun in a furious hete
With a spere vnwarly dide hir mete,
And in a rage smot hir to þe pleyn.
But she anoon ful lyfly roos ageyn,
And with hir swerd so marked Thelamoun,
Þat from his hors she made hym lyȝt[e] doun,
Plat to þe grounde on his hondis tweyne.
And þanne hir wommen dide her besy peyne
To make her quene hir stede to recure.
And al þis while stood in auenture
Of his lyf worþi Philymene,
Pirrus knyȝtes wern on hym so kene,
Maugre his men þat þei han hym take
—It geyneth nat diffense for to make,
Þe Grekis han so strongly hym be-set;—
And forþe þei lad him, it myȝt[e] be no bet,
Toward her tentis, þoruȝ-oute al þe feld.
Þe whiche þing whan þe quene behyld,
With hir wommen þat a-boute hir rood
Pursued after, with-oute more abood,
Þat finally þei han so after swed,
Þoruȝ her force þat he was reskwed,
Maugre þe manhood of Mirundones.
And Pantasillia was so mercyles
Vp-on Grekis, þat of necessite,
Þoruȝ hir force and hir cruelte,
Aforn hir swerd þei durst[e] nat abide.
But whan Pirrus sawe hir gret[e] pride,
To his knyȝtes lowde he gan to crye,
And seide it was shame & villenye,
For þe wommen so to lese her lond

685

And to be sleyn so felly of her hond:
“Wherfore echon ȝoure hertis doth resvme,
And of assent late vs now conswme
Þe pride of hem, þat noon awey eskape;
For, but ȝif we som remedie shape
Þis ilke day her force to confounde,
Shamful report to vs shal rebounde
Perpetuelly, wher we slepe or wake!”
And as Pirrus gan his swerde to take,
Furiously and with a knyȝtly chere,
Þis hardy quene happed for to here
Al þat Pirrus to his knyȝtes spak—
Hir liste nat onys for to tourne bake,
Nor of his thret for to taken hede;
For platly she hade of hym no drede,
But riȝt proudly gan to neiȝen nere,
And to hym seide anoon, as ȝe shal here:
“O þou Pirre, sone of Achilles,
Þat slowe Hector, in knyȝthod per[e]les,
Þoruȝ his treynes & his trecherie,
By malys only and by fals envie,
Vnwar, whan he no þinge dide aduerte!
Þe whiche neuere may oute of myn herte,
So grene it stikeþ in my remembraunce,
Vp-on his deth for to do vengaunce!
And it sit wel, as semeth vn-to me,
Þat his deth be venged vppon the
First of al, and on þi fadres blod,
For loue of hym, so gentil & so good—
Þe deth of whom shuld al þe worlde compleyne.
Nat only men done her besy peyne
To quyte his deth, but wommen eke also
With al her myȝt helpen eke þer-to,
As riȝt requereth, with-oute excepcioun,
Þer-on to done ful execucioun;

686

“And I now stonde in þe same plite.
And for þou hast vs wommen in dispit,
Of oure power, shortly in sentence,
Þow shalt in haste haue experience
And knowe oure force, sothly, euerydel,
Riȝt in short tyme, truste me riȝt wel,
Here in þis feld, in shedynge of þi blood!”
Wher-of Pirrus wexen gan as wood
As any tigre, boor, or wood lyoun—
So frat þe colre in his complexioun.
And in his Ire fel and dispitous,
He hent a spere, pale and furious,
And ran at hir with al his myȝt & peyne;
And a-geynward, as she þat list nat feyne,
Encontrid hym al deuoide of fere.
But Pirrus firste brak on hir his spere,
Al-be þat he myȝt hir nat remeve
In hir sadel, nor but litel greue.
But she ageyn so sore gan him hitte,
On his stede þat he may nat sitte,
But descendeth endelonge þe pleyn;
And vp he ros with ful gret disdeyn,
And hent a swerd in his hond anoon,
And made his stede lyne riȝt to goon
Vp-on þis quene of passyng worþines,
And inwardly of hate & of wodnes
In herte y-fret, smet at hir many stroke.
But euere she sat stille as any oke;
And of force in hir Ire pale,
Efte ageyn she made hym to avale
To þe erþe, maugre al his peyne.
And þus þe fiȝt lasteþ of hem tweyne
A large whyle, til Mirundones
Han take her lord by force oute of þe pres,

687

And maked hym his hors recure ageyn.
And in þis tyme on þe silve pleyn
With his baner is descendid doun
Þe worþi kyng, grete Agamenoun,
With kynges, dukes, endelonge þe grene,
With her wardis, þat wonder was to sene,
So prudently in þe feld batailled,
Þat han Troyens mortally assailled.
But þo in hast þe kyng Phylymene,
As ȝe han herde, reskwed by þe quene,
Whan he hath þankyd to hir worþines,
With his knyȝtes in he gan him dresse,
And Pantasillya, assembled boþe in oon,
Vp-on Grekis gonne for to goon,
Where men may se, with speris sharpe grounde
Eueryche oþer beren vn-to þe grounde.
Þer men may sen, proudly, with-oute lak,
Þe manly knyȝtes ren on horse-bake;
And þe wommen mortally oppresse
Þe felle Grekis þoruȝ her hardyines,
Only þoruȝ force of þe myȝty quene,
Þat ded þei lay, curynge al þe grene.
Wher-with cam in daunȝ Pollydamas,
Fro deth reskued, & with hym Eneas,
Kyng Esdras eke, of Troye þe cite.
And þo þe wardis gan to-gidre fle
On ouþer party, fel and furious;
But moste of alle Neptolonivs,
Þat Pirrus hiȝte, þe Grekis champioun,
Irous & wood on hem of Troye toun,
Made his swerde in her fleshe to byte.
And Pantasillya, proudly hir to quyte,
Ne spareth nat with mortal woundis wyde
Grekis to sleen vp-on euery side—
Now here, now þer, to her confusioun.
And Pirrus þanne is fallen on Glaucoun,
Þe halfe broþer to Pollydamas,

688

—For Anthenor eke his fader was—
And Pirrus so, in a cruel Ire,
With malencolye newe sette a-fyre,
Smot Glaucoun so, or þat he toke hede,
Amonge þe pres þat he fil doun ded.
And Pantasillya from hir wommen alle
Þe same tyme is on Pirrus falle;
And he, of hir whan he hadde a siȝt,
Rood vn-to hir lyke a manly knyȝt:
And as þei hurtle on hors[e]-bak I-fere,
Of auenture with swerdis stif & clere,
Eueryche made oþer to a-lyȝt;
And hatfully on fote so þei fiȝt
Longe or ouþer myȝt of oþer wynne,
Til þei were made of force for to twynne
By þe wardys þat went hem a-twene—
I mene Pirrus & þis hardy quene.
And al þis tyme daunȝ Pollydamas
So wood for Ire in his herte was,
Amyd Grekis, for his broþer deth,
Þat whom he mette for his loue he sleth,
With-oute mercy, in his hatful tene,
Þat he allone and þis hardy quene
Swyche [a] slauȝter on þe Grekis make,
Þat þei þe feld outterly for-sake,
And gan to flen to her tentis doun,
Til Diomede & Aiax Thelamoun
And Pirrus eke made hem turne a-geyn;
But þei, in soth, wer so ouer-leyn
Þat þei ne myȝte al þat day releve.
And þus þei fauȝt til it drowe to eve
—Þe moste damage on þe Grekis syde,—
Til Phebus gan his briȝt[e] chare to hide
Lowe in þe west & to sh[r]oude his lyȝt
Vnder cou[r]tyn of þe blake nyȝt,
Þat ouþer parte þouȝt[e] for þe beste

689

To departe and drawe to [her] reste,
And toke her ese þat nyȝt as þei may.
And al þe monþe, swynge day by day,
With-outen any interupcioun
Þei fauȝte I-fere, al-be no mencioun
Be made þer-of nor wryte in special
Of no persone, but in general:
Who þat euere dide evele or wel,
In Troye boke I fynde neuere-a-del,
Saue þe quene, like as writ Guydo,
Of hir wommen an hundrid hath for-go,
Þat slay[e]n wern þilke moneth day.
Þe deth of whom, pleynly, ȝif she may,
Shal wel be quyt, ȝif so þat Fortune
Be fauourable frendly to contune
Þat hir face chaunge nat contrarie.
But she þat can euery day so varie,
Allas þe while! & selde in oon soiourne,
Gan fro þis quene hir loke aweie to turne,
To enhaste þoruȝ hir vngoodlyhede
Antropos to breke hir lyves threde,
As þe story pleynly shal ȝou lere,
Benygnely ȝif ȝe list to here.

[How Penthesilea, the Queen of the Amazons, was cruelly slain by Pyrrhus, the son of Achilles; and how the Greeks slew ten thousand of the Trojans, and pursued them to the gates of their city.]

The fatal hour, harde for to remewe,
Of cruel deþ, which no man may eschewe
Nor in þis lyfe finally eskape,
Specially whan parchas han it shape,
Aproche gan—it may noon oþer bene,
Allas þe while!—of þis hardy quene,
Whiche on a day, furious and wroth,

690

In-to þe feld oute of Troye goth,
And gan on Grekis proudly for to sette.
And alderfirst Pirrus with hir mette
Of mortal hate and indignacioun;
And she in haste by þe rengis doun
Rood vn-to hym swiftly on hir stede,
Whos sporis sharpe made his sides blede.
And as þei mette, her speris in þe rest,
Þei bare so evene, markyng at þe brest,
Þat her shaftis, sothly þis no tale,
Gan to shyuere alle on pecis smale,
With-oute bowynge ouþer bak or chyne:
For nouþer made oþer to enclyne—
Saue þe hed, forged harde of steel,
Of Pantasillya, þat was grounde wel,
In Pirrus brest percid hath so depe
Þat plate, in soth, nor mail[le] myȝt hym kepe,
But þe sharpnes of þe speris hede
Was of his blod in party died rede.
Þe whiche strok whan Grekis dide espie,
For-astonyd loude gan to crye,
And alle attonys for þe noise & soun
Vp-on þis quene in þe feld cam doun,
In compas wyse goynge enviroun.
But þoruȝ hir prowesse & hir hiȝe renoun
She hir diffendeth, þat it was mervaille;
But þei, allas! so sore hir gan assaille,
Þat al to-hewe þei han hir basenet,
Amyd Grekis so þikke she was beset—
Þat with axes and her swerdis square
Hir hed in soth maked was al bare,
And hir shuldris were nakid eke, allas!—
Þe maille hewe of and þe rerebras.
And Pirrus þan, lyke as it is founde,
For anguyshe only of his grene wounde,

691

In doute pleynly wher he shulde eskape,
Toward þis quene faste gan hym rape
To be avengid, what-so-euere falle,
Amyd þe feld amonge [þe] Grekis alle.
And whan she sawe þat he cam so faste,
Of force only to mete him ȝit she cast,
And with hir swerd first gan hym assaille;
But of hir strok it happed hir to faille,
Amonge þe pres so narwe she was beset.
And Pirrus swerd was so sharp[e] whet,
Þat sodeinly of hir arme he smette—
Allas! þer was non armour hym to lette,
But raceth þoruȝ al þe shulder bon,
So þat þis quene fil doun ded anon.
And of malys for to venge hym more,
At his hert þe Ire frat so sore,
Þat with a chere of verray angir pale
He hath hir hewe al on pecis smale,
Þe whiche was to foule a cruel dede!
But euere in on Pirrus so gan blede,
Niȝe to þe deth, of his mortal wounde,
For lak of blod þat he fil to grounde—
In a trawnce ful longe gruf he lay,
Til his knyȝtes, in al þe haste þei may,
Han take hym vp & leide him on a sheld;
And doolfully home oute of þe feld
Þei han hym born, wounded as he was.
And þe wommen of þe quene, allas!
For verray sorwe & inward dedly wo,
Whan þei sawe her lady was a-go,
For to be ded þei were so desirous,
Þat in al haste, wood and furious,
In a rage, with-oute gouernaile,
Grekis þei gan of newe for to assaille
—Tavenge her quene þei wer so hertly kynde—
Þat þei slowe, sothly, as I fynde,

692

Two þousand Grekes—on hem þei wer so wod.
But, o allas! in gret disioint þei stood,
Only for lak þei haue no gouernour;
For she was goon þat was her chef socour,
Whiche was also, to speke of hardynes,
Of wommen alle lady and maistresse,
As of hir hond—þat I can of rede.
O ȝe Troyens! ȝe stonden in gret drede,
Amyd þe feld al oute of gouernaunce!
Þe day is come of ȝoure vnhappi chaunce:
For now haue ȝe leder noon nor gyde—
Far wel ȝoure trust now on euery side!
And Grekes ben vp-on ȝou so stronge
Þat ȝe þe feld may nat kepe longe;
For þei cast hem fully ȝou to quyte
Þis same day, as Dares list endite:
For, as he writ, homward as þei drawe,
Ten þousand Troiens wern of Grekis slawe.
For alle her wardis cam attonys doun,
And mortally, with-oute excepcioun,
Þei kille and sle al þat hem withstood;
And moste þei wern on þe wommen wood
To be avenged, pleinly, as I rede,
On euery halfe, & her blood to shede
With-oute mercy or remyssioun,
Chasyng Troiens home in-to þe toun
Oute of þe felde; for þer was noon abod,—
So pitously þo with hem it stood
Þat þei ne can noon oþer recure caste,
But kepe her toun & shet her gatis faste,
For al her hope clene was agoon
Any more to fiȝte wiþ her foon.
For now her trust of knyȝthod was a-way,
Her worþi men slay[e]n, weillaway!
Refut was noon, but in her cyte
To kepe hem clos—it may noon oþer be:

693

For hem þouȝt þei myȝt it kepe longe,
Her walles wern so myȝti & so stronge,
Ȝif þei had plente of vitaille;
Þouȝ all þe world attonis hem assaille,
Þei may be sure while þei kepe hem In,
For euere-more þat no man shall hem wynne.
Ȝet neuer-þeles, erly and eke late
Þe Grekes made to-forn euery gate
Ful myȝti wache & a-wait ful stronge,
Wiþ pryvy spies goynge in amonge,
Þat of her foon noon eskape away
By noon engyn, as ferforthe as þei may.

[The sorrow of the Trojans for the death of Penthesilea; and how the Greeks cast her dead corse in a lake.]

And, in þis while, with-Inne Troie toun,
More þan I can make descripcioun,
For þe quene þer was so gret a sorwe
Of euery whiȝt, boþe at eve & morwe,
Þat she, allas! was slay[e]n for her mede,
Whiche cam so fer to helpe hem in her nede;
And aldermost for þei ne myȝt[e] haue
Þe dede cors, to burie [it] and to graue
With reuerence and wiþ honour dwe,
For whiche þei gan to þe Grekis swe
With gret praier and gret[e] besynes.
But al in veyn and in ydelnesse
Was her requeste—þe Grekis wer so wroþe.
And finally, with many sondry oþe,
Only of malys and of hoot envie,
Þe dede cors to hem þei denye,
And shortly seide, of mortal enmyte,
Þat of houndis it shal deuoured be—
Þer was no geyn—her rancour to compesse.

694

But Pirrus þanne of verray gentilnesse
Nolde assent to so foule a dede;
But, wood and wroþe, cruel Diomede
Seide openly, how it was fittynge
Þat she faile of hir buriynge,
Þat slay[e]n hadde so many worþi man.
And þus þe strif amonge þe Grekis gan,
With grete rumour and altercacioun,
Til at þe laste vnder Troye toun
Of hir þei han þe dede cors y-take,
And cruelly in a profounde lake
Þei han it cast, where I lete hir lye,
And vn-to Troie ageyn I wil me hye
To telle forþe howe þei lyve in pyne.

[How the translator complaineth of Mars for his cruelty to the Trojans; and of the treason of Anchises, Æneas, and Anthenor.]

O cruel Mars, þat hast made for to fyne
Þoruȝ þin Ire al þe worþi blood
Of Troie, allas! why hastow ben so wood
Ageyn[e]s hem, to slen her knyȝtes alle?
Why hastow lete þi bitter venym falle
On hem, allas, þou sterre infortunat!—
With al þe world to make hem at debat,
O hatful sterre, hoot, combust, and drye,
Fyry, Irous, grounde of al envie,
Hasty euere, ful of discencioun,
And col[e]rik of þi complexioun!
In mordre and deth ay is þi delit,
In takyng vengaunce most þin appetit,
First meuer of anger and of hate,
Rote of contek, causynge to debate!
In strif and murmur most is þi desyre,

695

Ferful of loke as any wylde fyre,
And gastful euere of þi wode siȝt!
As any levene so flawmynge is þi liȝt,
Liche in twynklynge to þe sparkis rede
In grete fyres þat abrod so sprede,
Conswmynge ay be malencolye
Hertis þat ben enbracid wiþ envie,
Þi wrath is ay so fretynge & so kene!
And causest men to be longe & lene,
Consumpt, sklendre, broun & citryn hewed,
Vnmerciable & riȝt evele thewed,
Wounder sleiȝty and Engynyous,
Compassynge and suspecious,
Trist and soleyn, & ful of hevines,
And assentynge to al cursidnes—
To awaitynge, deth, and robberie,
To mordre also, and to trecherie,
Wiþ-oute remors of any conscience,
So venymous is þin influence!—
And helper art vn-to fals tresoun,—
Þe hous of whom is þe Scorpioun,
And crowned art in þe Capricorn,
But in þe Bole is þi kyngdam lorn;
For þer-in is þi deieccioun,
Þi power lost and domynacioun.
And hast also in þi subieccioun
Exile, werre, cheynes, and presoun,
Proscripcioun and captiuite,—
Þat for þi malys on Troye þe cite,
So wolde God, I koude chide a-riȝt,
Þat hast on hem kyd þi felle myȝt,
Of þi rancour hooly þe outtraunce:
First on hem [for] to do vengaunce
With speris sharp & swerdes kene whet,
An[d] now in prisoun tenclosen hem & shet,
So vengably þat þei dar nat oute,

696

Þe Grekis felle ay liggynge hem aboute.
Þei be nat holde in no maner wyse
In þi temple to do sacrifyse,
Nouþer with boles nor with bores wylde,
Nor with bestis þat euere ben vnmylde,
As tigres, beris, nor þe wood lyoun,
Of whiche þou art souereyn and patroun.
Þei ar nat holde to do þe brynston smoke
On þin auteris, whiche art so felly wroke
On hem, allas! & now ȝit, werst of alle,
Þou hast shad out chef of al þi galle,
Amonge hem silfe to bringe in tresoun,
Feyned trouþe and symulacioun,
To maken hertis amonge hem silfe devide!
Lo, how þe serpent of discord can glyde
Ful slyȝly in til he haue cauȝt a place
To voide away boþe hap and grace
With his venym of dissencioun,
Whan it is sprad in any regioun,
In any comoun, borwe, [toun], or cite,
Amongis men of hiȝe or lowe degre!
For whan hertis in loue ben nat oon,
Fare wel Fortune, her grace is clene a-goon:
For wher Discord holdeth residence,
It is wel wers þan swerd or pestilence!
For what is worse, ouþer fer or nere,
Þan a foo þat is famylyer?—
For who may more harmen, ȝif hym liste,
Þan an enmye vp-on whom men triste?
Þat to discryve, shortly in a clause,
Þe verray rote and þe trewe cause
Of al meschef and confusioun
In euery lond is dissencioun,
And more perlous ȝif it be preve.
Recorde I take on Troye þe cyte,

697

Þat fond Fortune frendly ay at nede,
Til longe hid hate gan a-brood to sprede.
For prudence, sothly, hath prouyded
Þat a regne in hit silfe deuided
Shal recurles tourne wilde and wast,
And þe dwellers desolat in hast:
For Mars þat is of envie lord
Amonge hem silfe sowen hath discord,
Ageyn þe whiche may no socour be—
For wers þan werre, sothly, semeth me
Tresoun cured vnder a feyned pes.
And rote of al was olde Anchyses,
With his sone called Eneas,
Daunȝ Anthenor, and Pollydamas,
Þat han contreued amonge hem outterly,
And vnder veil concelyd secrely,
Ȝiffe it falle þat Grekis Troye haue,
First how þei may her owne lyves save
By som e[n]gyn, sleiȝtis or trete.
And ȝif so wer þat it may nat be
As þei caste, by no maner woye,
Þei wold[e] raþer traitours be to Troye,
Priuely, so it wer nat espied,
And couertly with Grekis ben allyed,
Þan stonden hool with þe toun of trouþe,
And wilfully, of necligence & slouþe,
Suraunce & oþe of old made to þe toun
Refuse pleinly, in conclusioun,
And allyaunce lete slake and slyde,
And her lygaunce sette also a-syde,
In her avys þei þouȝt[e] for þe beste.
For þei hem caste [for] to lyve at reste,
And meryer eke, for ernest or for game,
To saue her lyf & wander forþe in shame
Þan wilfully dyen at meschef.

698

To traisshe her toun þei hild it no repref,
So þei myȝt eskape hem silfe a-lyve,
Hem list no þinge for þe toun to stryue;
Þei souȝte, in soth, for sour or for swete,
A mene weie to lyven in quiete.
And here-vp-on þei han her weie nome
Vn-to þe kyng; & whan þat þei wer come
To his presence, in ful couert wyse,
Vnder colour þei be-gan deuyse
To telle her tale, so þat finally
Her counseil was, þat Priam outterly
In no maner be nat rekkeles
To purswe to Grekis for a pes,
—Ȝif it so be þat he it geten may—
And ȝelde ageyn to kyng Menelay,
With-oute strife, þe freshe quene Eleyne,
And, ouermore, þat he nat disdeyne
Þe harmys don by Paris gon ful ȝore
In Citheroun iustly to restore.
But, o allas! of fals iniquite
Þis counseil roos; for vndre in secre
Þe venym was, as sugre vnder galle:
For wel þei wist þat þe Grekis alle
Nolde acorde, in conclusioun,
To haue a pes with hem of Troye toun
Whiles þei wern to swiche meschef brouȝt—
To trete þer-of, in soth, it was for nouȝt.
For Priam þanne, and Eccuba þe quene,
With his sones, and wiþ Polycene,
Þat ȝit were lefte with hym in þe toun,
Miȝt haue regned by longe succession,
Ȝif þat Grekis ful (and nat repented)
Vn-to a pes hooly hadde assentid.
But þat conseil ȝoue was to late,
Syþen Grekes of wel elder date
Hadde profrid first at Thenedoun

699

By thavys of kyng Agamenoun
A fynal pes, shortly for to seyn,
So he wolde restore ageyn Eleyn
Wiþ amendis, requerid of resoun,
Of damages wrouȝt at Cytheroun,
His messageris first whan þat he sent
To Priamus, þat wold[e] nat assent
To þe requeste iustly þat þei brouȝt:
For of pes þe menes þat þei souȝt
Of verray pride wern to hem denyed,
By wylfulnes, allas, so wer þei guyed,
For lak only of wyt & of prudence.
But now þei han with cost & gret dispence,
With slauȝter of men and many grete damage,
Þe sharpe shoures & þe cruel rage
Abiden fully of þis mortal werre;
It is ful sure þat þei wil nat differre
Þe tyme forþe to trete for a pes,
Hem list no þing to be so rekkeles,
Nor vn-avysed what hem ouȝt to do.
Trowe ȝe þei wil so lyȝtly go
Home in-to Grece with-outen recompense?—
Þei wold[e] seme it were a necligence.
Speke nat þer-of, for it wil nat be,
Specialy now Troye þe cite
In meschef stant vp-on þe final fate.
Þis remedie shape was to late!
For Grekis þouȝt [riȝt] of verray trust,
Þat þei of Troye stoden at her lust,
Holdynge hem silfe verrayly victours,
And of her foon fully conquerours,
Wiþ-oute doute or ambiguyte.
For þe counseil of þis ilke Enee,
Of Anthenor and þis Anchises,
As ȝe han herd, to trete for a pes,
Ne roos in soth but of doubilnes,

700

Only of tresoun & of hiȝe falsenes,
As Priamus conceyueþ by her chere,
Lyke in þis boke as ȝe shal after here.

How Kynge Priamus and his son Amphimacus helde a great councell amonges the Troyens, as concernyng the pece betwene them and the Grekes, att the concell of Anthenour, wherof he made delay.

For on a day whan þat Priamus
With his sone called Amphymacus
A conseil helde, with oþer of þe toun,
Þis þre han made a suggestioun
Vn-to þe kyng touchynge þe trete;
But he anon, discret and avisee,
Prudently, or he wolde assent,
Gan vndergrope, pleinly, what þei ment,
Only of witte and discrecioun,
Or he it putte in execucioun,
Makynge þer-of a maner of delay.
But proudly þanne, stondynge at a-bay,
Þis Anthenor wiþ-oute reuerence
Spak to þe kyng in open audience,
And shortly seide with a sterne chere:
“Ȝif þou liste oure counseil for to here
And do þer-after, platly, þou maist chese,
And but þou wilt, wher þou wynne or lese,
Þis is þe fyn, þou gest no more of me,
Werke after hem þat of þi counseil be.”

The wise and discrete answere that Kyng Priamus made vnto Anthanor.

To whom þe kyng wonder soberly
Answered ageyn ful benygnely:
“Sir Anthenor, ȝe ouȝte ȝou nat to greue,

701

For myn entent is nat to repreue
Ȝoure wyse conseil nor ȝour prudent rede,
Ȝif it conclude to þe comoun spede
Of my peple and sauacioun;
But wete riȝt wel, iustly of resoun,
Vnder sugre ȝif þer be cured galle,
In preiudice of my liges alle,
Causyng hem in meschef for to fyne,
I wil þer-from outterly declyne,
As riȝt requereth, for oure alder ese.
And, me semeth, þis shold[e] not displese
To þi conceit, nor do þe noon offence:
For euery man is holden of prudence
Þe wers to leue and þe better take,
Wysdam to swe and foly to forsake,
And remedie to seke for his sore.”

The Replicacion of Anthenor and Enee to the ansswere of Kyng Priamus.

And with þat word, þe Troyan Anthenor
Of sodeyn Ire gan to chaunge his blod,
And, abreidynge, on his feet he stood,
And ful felly seide vn-to þe kyng:
“Now, sekerly, þis is a wonder þing,
How ȝour wisdam & avisenesse
Ar blinded so of verray wilfulnesse,
Þat ȝe may nat on no side se
Þe grete meschef nor aduersite
Þat we are In, vp-on euery side;
For we may nat dyssymvle nor hide
In what disioint, pleinly, þat we stonde.
Be nat oure foon also here at honde,
And han be-set oure walles rounde aboute?—
And we for fer dar nat issen oute,
Nor be so bolde to vndone a gate,
Wiþ hem to fiȝt þat vs dedly hate,—

702

We be so feble, & þei are so stronge.
For, sothly ȝit, þei han hem amonge
Fifty kynges worþi of renoun,
Confederat to oure destruccioun,
And þer-vp-on, platly, wil abide,
Whiche vowed han in her grete pride,
Neuere to parte hen[ne]s fro þe toun
Til þe walles be turned vp-so-doun.
Ȝoure worþi sonys also be now dede,
Þat ȝow were wont to helpen in ȝour nede;
Ȝoure manly knyȝtes slay[e]n euerychon,
Þat vs to saue remedie is noon!
It is in veyn to treten of diffence.
Wherfor, I rede, of resoun & prudence,
Or we be slayn and oure cite lese,
Of tweyne harmys þe lasse for to chese:
Þis to seyn, þat in oure entent,
As fittynge is and expedient,
We trete of pes and no lenger feyne,
And her-wiþ-al restore ageyn Eleyne,
For loue of whom many worþi man
Hath lost his lif sithen þe werre gan—
For now Paris is vnder stoon y-grave—
Þe beste rede, in soth, þat ȝe may have,
To sende hir home ageyn to Menelay,
And to profre, as ferforthe as ȝe may,
To restore with-Inne a litel while
Þe harmys done by Parys in þe Ile
Whiche men are wont Cithera to calle.
Þis is my rede here a-fore ȝou alle.”
And with þat word vp roos Amphymacus,
To þis counseil ful contrarius,
And shortly seide [þat] it shal nat be

703

As Anthenor haþ raad, in no degre;
And evene þus, with-oute more respit,
He spak to hym of verray hiȝe dispit:
“Þou Anthenor, I haue espied wel,
We may truste in þe neueradel
Wiþ vs to stonde in oure gret[e] nede:
For trouþe & faiþe in þe be now dede,
Falshed hath slayn in þe stabilnes;
And in stede of þi sikernes
We fynde in þe, sothly, varyaunce.
Wher is be-come þe feith of þi lygaunce,
Þin hestis made to stonde with þi kyng?
Where ben þin oþes, so double in menynge?
Wher is now hid þin olde assuraunce?
Where is be-come þi feyned fals constance?—
In stede of whiche, mvtabilite
Hath take his place, like as we may se,
With new[e] chaunge. Þou art so rem[e]vable,
Vp-on no grounde þou maist nat stonde stable;
Þi trouþe is goon, of old affeccioun,
Þat þou shuldist han to stonde with þe toun,
Of feith with vs for to lyve or deye:
For trust & hope exiled bene a-weye
In þi persone, shortly for to wryte,
Þat besi arte þe kyng to excite,
In disencres of his estat royal,
Vn-to Grekis now to be so thral
To seke a pes, as it were for drede!
Þou shuldest rather of þi manlyhede
Haue profrid hym þe cite to diffende,
Þer-on þi life at outtraunce to dispende!
Wherfore, in sothe, here I þe assure,
Raþer þan we shulde þis endure,
Twenty þousand shal with spere & sheld
Vp-on a day be slay[e]n in þe feld.
Þi worde I holde for no prophesie,
For it procedeth of verray trecherie,

704

Of doubilnes & of false tresoun,
Vndirmynynge with prodicioun—
Þouȝ þat þou outward shewe faire,
Þe venym hid þi tale doth empaire,
Liche a serpent stinginge vndir floures—
Þer be to fele of swiche conseillours!”
And in þis wyse with wordis dispitous
Ful bytyngly hath Amphymacus
Al openly Anthenor repreved,
With his counseil so he was agreved,
Seynge þe tresoun þat he wolde mene,
Til Eneas gan to goon be-twene
With florisshed speche ful of flaterie,
And gan his tale so to modifie
Like as he ment trouþe in his entent;
But þer-in was double intendement:
He spak but oon, & ȝit he ment[e] tweyne,
Amphymacus only to refreyne,
Tatempren hym of his malencolye,
Only til he myȝt a tyme espie,
Liche his purpos þat he may procede
To execute it fully vp in dede.
And whan þat he founden had a space,
Vnder pretens of a trewe face
With his tale he gan to breken oute,
Many Troyan stondynge him aboute,
And shortly seide, for conclusioun,
Touching diffence, pleinly, of þe toun,
How þat it hinge hooly in ballaunce,—
“For boþen hope, truste, and assuraunce
Of þe cite taken han her fliȝt;
For finally oure manhod & oure myȝt
And oure knyȝthod to-gidre ben a-goo,
With þe Grekis more to haue a-do.
And þei ben redy vppon vs to sette;
And we dar nat oure gatis more vnshet,

705

We ben, allas! supprised so wiþ drede.
Þan, semeth me, how it wer gret nede
By good avys for to seke a mene
In þis meschef how we shal vs demene.
And, for my parte, sothfastly I seie,
I know as now noon so redy weie
As prudently for a pes to trete.”
But Priam þanne, in a sodeyn hete,
Wiþ-oute abood, of chere and face pale,
Of rancour gan interrupte his tale;
For he attempre myȝt[e] nat his herte,
So fretingly þe tresoun made hym smerte.
And for he myȝt him silfe nat restreyne,
Þus he seide vn-to boþe tweyne,
To Anthenor and also to Enee:
“I wonder gretly þat ȝe hardy be
In ȝoure trouþe, for shame! so to varie,
And þat ȝe ben so rebel & contrarie
To me, only of false collusioun
Vs to bringe in disperacioun—
Me and my liges, ȝif I shal nat feyne,
Of false entent to cacche vs in a trayne!
Allas! how may ȝe in ȝour hert[e] fynde
Ageyn Nature for to ben vnkynde,
Þat whylom wern of my counseil chef
Of euery þing or it was brouȝt to pref;
For ȝe absent, I koude no þing fyne.
And now, allas! ȝe cast[e] to declyne
Away fro me, bareyne lefte and sool,
Þat to remembre it is to gret a dool,—
How any wyȝt, allas! so chaunge can!
For who shal more trusten any man,
Whan ȝe be founde double of entent?
Can ȝe nat þinke, how by ȝour assent,
By ȝoure conseil and by ȝoure avys,
Whilom how I sent[e] forþe Paris

706

In-to Grece, of ful ȝore a-goo?
And, Anthenor, þou wost þi silfe also,
How þou were first made embassatour,
And þer-vppon chevest conseillour
Touchinge þe sonde made for Exioun;
And, after þat, cause and mocioun
Þou were in soth þat Paris shuld[e] go
In-to Grece,—þou wost wel it is so!
For I ne durst, of presumpcioun,
Haue sent Paris vn-to Cytheroun
Wiþ-oute avis and auctorite
Of Eneas, pleinly, and of þe—
Vp-on Grekis a werre to haue gonne.
I trowe in soth þat ȝe nouþer konne
Excuse hym silfe, and ȝe ben avised;
For euery þing wrouȝt was & deuised
And execut by conseil of ȝou tweyne:
For whan Paris wente for Eleyne,
Grounde & rote, to speke in special,
Were þou, Enee, and cause principal,
Present also whan euery þinge was wrouȝt,
Oute of Grece whan she was heder brouȝt.
For þis þe soþe, oute of þat regioun
She neuere hadde comen to þis toun
Ȝif þou haddest be þer-to contrayre,
Al-be þou woldest with þi wordes faire
Þi silfe excuse here in audience,
As þou knewe nouȝt of þat offence,
But fully were vnwytinge of þe dede.
And now my sones euerychon be dede,
And ȝe me sen allone, destitut,
Ȝoure conseil is, as for chef refut,
Me to purswe to Grekis for a pes,
As I were forȝetel, rekkeles
To remembre þe infinit outtrages,
Þe mortal werre, slauȝter, & damages,

707

Þe cruelte and distruccioun
Þat þei han wrouȝt here vp-on þis toun,
Þat, verraily, whan I al recorde,
For to be ded, I can nat acorde
With hem to trete, like as ȝe deuise.
For I espie in many sondri wyse
In ȝoure entent a riȝt perlous snare,
So couertly vnder falshed dare,
Þat it wil be to my confusioun
Ȝif ȝe acheve ȝoure entencioun
Finally as ȝe haue it shape.
For impossible it were to eskape
Shamefully at meschef me to dye,
With-oute recure of any remedie:
For þis þe fyn, I knowe it oute of doute,
Of þe trete þat ȝe ben a-boute!”
And riȝt anoon þe Troyan Eneas
Of Ire & rancour so [a]meved was
Ageyn þe kyng, with a swollen herte,
Þat sodeynly oute at þe dore he sterte,
After he hadde, for to ben a-wroke,
Ful many worde ageyn þe kyng y-spoke—
He went his way and Anthenor also.
And Priamus of verray Ire and wo
Sodeinly braste oute for to wepe,
—He myȝt hym silf nat for anguysh kepe,
Þe anger frat vp-on hym so sore—
With-Inne hym silfe conceivynge more & more,
By evidence of discrecioun,
Þe couert gyle and þe false tresoun
Þat þei for hym and [for] his cite
I-shapen han, but he avised be—
Dredynge ay þat þese ilke tweyne
Be som engyn or conspired treyne
To þe Grekes wolden hym be-tray.

708

How Kyng Priamus, with his son Amphimacus, deuysed to bryng Eneas and Anthanour to deth.

Wherfore, þe kyng cast & wolde saie
Shape a wei her malis to with-stonde,
So þe tresoun þat þei toke on honde,
Only of riȝt, in dede, or it were founde,
Vp-on hem silfe myȝt ageyn rebounde,
Þat þe fulle execusioun
Of her contrived conspiracioun
Resorte ageyn, in ful due wyse,
Only on hem þat gan it first deuyse.
Tresoun for tresoun is conuenient:
For to falshede þe guerdoun pertynent
Is shameful deth, and þe final mede.
Wherfore, to shape in þis grete nede
A remedie, þis olde Priamvs
Calleth to hym his sone Amphimacus,
And pitously, allone but þei tweyne,
In teris drownid gan to hym compleyne
On Anthenor and on þis Eneas,
And seide: “sone, take hede in þis caas,
And þinke how I am þi fader dere,
And how þer be now no more in fere
Of my sonys lefte with me a-lyve
But þou allone; & þerfore as blyve,
Touchynge þe tresoun conspired & y-sworn,
What-euere falle, lat vs be to-forn
Only of wysdam a weie for to make,
Þat we may first in þe trappe hem take,
And to purveie for hem evenelyche,
Þat iustly þei may fallen in þe diche
Whiche þei han made & for vs y-treyned.
And in al hast late so be ordeyned

709

Þat þis mater cloos be kepte in mewe,
To fyn only þat þei nat eschewe
For to be slayn, of equyte and riȝt,
In þis place evene toward nyȝt.
For I purpose, pleinly, for her sake,
A-geyn þat hour a counseil for to make,
And, vnder coloure, make hem boþe calle,
And þou vnwarly shalt vp-on hem falle
With knyȝtes sworne [vn-]to þe and me,
In þis mater for to ben secre.”
And riȝt anoon þis Amphymacus
Assentid is vn-to Priamus,
To acomplishe in ful secre wyse
Fro point to point, as ȝe han herde deuise.
But soth is seid of ful ȝore a-goon
Of olde wyse, þat counseil is þer noon
In al þis wor[l]d so priuely y-cast
Þat it wil oute, platly, at þe last.
For þe peple which þat is rual
Seith þat secres, whiche be nat kouþe at al,
Þe erthe wil, as þei make mynde,
Discuren hem of his owne kynde,
And of nature vp casten & disclose
Þe þing þat men ar wont in it to close.
Late euery man be war, as it is good,
Or his counseil go to fer a-brood;
And specialy lordes han grete nede:
Of alle men þei stonde most in drede,
So gret a-wait is vp-on hem laide,
Þat whan it happeþ [þat] a þing be seide
Or onys spoke of a lordis mouþe,
It falleth ofte þat it is ful kouþe,
And reported & y-sprad ful wyde
In many cost by hem þat stonde a-side,
Or he be ware, by sodeyn auenture.

710

For somme, in hap, in whom he doth assure,
Wil first of al hym report amys;
Þerfore, in soth, best for hem is this:
For to be war and to kepe her tonge.
A purpose cast shuld[e] nat be ronge
Nor spoke a-brood amonges folkes rude;
For gladly ay þe werst[e] þei conclude
Of euery þing, while þat it is newe,
In report variaunt and vntrewe.
For after resoun no þing þei expowne,
But after wil, þe folke þat ben of tovne,
Like þe purpos whiche þei desire;
For þei faren as a wisp a-fire:
Whanne it brenneþ briȝtest in his blase,
Sodeinly it wasteþ as a mase.
On swiche folke, platly, is no trist,
Þat fire & water holden in her fist,
Beinge with boþe y-liche indifferent,
Now hoot, now colde;—liche as þere entent
Of newe changeþ, so, in her corage,
After þe calm folweth sodeyn rage:
To-day þei loue [&] to-morwe hate,
To trust a comovn lasteþ by no date—
Late nat a lord make hem to secre!
For now þe conseil is ronne to Enee,
Þat Priam wend had[de] ben ful cloos:
For þe rumour & þe wynde a-roos
By false report, and so fer is blowe,
Þat Eneas & Anthenor well knowe
Ende & gynnynge, & euery maner þing,
And hool þe conseil of Priamus þe kyng.
And boþe two, ful of oon entent,
Wiþ oþer [eke] þat wern of her assent
Conspired ben and to-gidre sworne,
And couertly caste a weie a-forne,

711

Þat finally Troye þe cite
By her engyn shal distroied be,
And of accorde caste pleinly þus:
Ȝif it hap þat kyng Priamus
Sende for hem, shortly to conclude,
Þei wolde com with swiche a multitude
Of armed men, ȝif þei seie nede,
Þat of hym þei shulde no þing drede.
For Eneas was in þat cite
Of gret power and auctorite,
Boþe of blood & of kynrede allied,
And for his gold gretly magnyfied
Þoruȝ þe cite most in special,
Þat he in myȝt & power perigal
(As seith Guydo) was vn-to þe kyng.
And Anthenor almoste in euery þing
Was vn-to hym egal of power.
And boþe tweyne of oon herte entere
Conspired han in soth ageyn þe toun,
Finally to þis conclusioun,
Þat þei of Grekis myȝt haue surete,
With her tresour to goon at liberte,
With her allies borne of Troye toun,
Whanne al wer brouȝt to distruccioun—
With lif & good, sauf, with-oute mor.

How Eneas & A[n]thanour Vnderstode how the Kyng had conspired their deth, came to þe kyng with a grete multitude, & seide

At whiche tyme for daunȝ Anthenor
And Eneas Priamus hath sent,
To a-complishe þe fyn of hys entent.
And þei in haste with so gret a route
Cam of knyȝtes stuffed hem aboute,
Þat þer-of was astonyd Priamus,
And made sende for Amphymacus,

712

Commaundinge him to chaunge his purpos;
For wel he wist his counseil was nat clos,
And be signes gan wel vndirstonde
Þat þe mater whiche þei had on honde
Discured was, to his confusioun:
Boþe þe mordre and conspiracioun,
A-parceivynge in his inward siȝt
Þe grete power of þis Troian knyȝt,
And þe fauour of þis Eneas,
And of þe comoun how he fostred was.
Þe whiche prowdly in open audience
To-fore þe kyng declareth his sentence,
Fully concludinge, maugre who seith nay,
How þat þer was noon oþer mene way,
Refut nor geyn, nor oþer remedie
But only pes, who-so it denye—
Oþer eskapynge, pleinly, was þer noon.
And þer-vppon þe comouns euerychon
With o vois gan to gale and crye,
And his conseil gretly magnefie,
Al-be þe kyng was þer-to contrarie.
But Eneas list no lenger tarie
Nor differre þe fyn of his purpos,
But wonder Irous from his se he ros,
And ful vngoodly spak vn-to þe kyng,
And shortly seide, with-oute more tariyng:
“Wher-so be-falle þou be lefe or lothe,
Or wiþ þis purpos plesid ouþer wroþe,
Þou maiste wel truste it shal noon oþer be:
For finally, herkene þis of me!
Maugre þi wille & also [al] þi myȝt,
Þis same day, ȝit or it be nyȝt,
For a pes wiþ Grekis we shal trete!”
And whanne þe kyng sawe þe feruent hete
Boþe of þe comoun and of Eneas,
He gan anoon dissymulen in þis cas;
For of prudence he clerly gan to se,

713

For þat tyme it may non oþer be.
Wherfore, sith he myȝt it not a-mende,
He wysly gan for to condecende
To þe purpos, platly, of Enee,
And seide he wolde goodly take at gre
And accepte what hym list ordeyne.
And so þe kyng lerned for to feyne
Ageyn þe conceit, platly, of his herte;
For oþer wyse he koude nat asterte,
Coact of force and of violence.
And whan he sawe in his aduertence
Þat he myȝt diuerten on no side
From þe fraude, þat sowe was so wide,
With-oute grucching he fully ȝaf assent,
Þat Anthenor shulde forþe be sent
By comoun choys to trete for þe toun—
Whiche was to-forn, in conclusioun,
With [þe] Grekis acorded finally,
Touchinge theffect of his embassatry,
Fro point to point, wher he wolde stonde
Variaunt fro þat he toke on honde.
And for þei had a-forn hym ful conceived,
With better chere he was of hem received.
And in þis while þat Anthenor was oute
For to trete with þe Grekis stoute,
As ȝe han herde, for a pes final,
In þe toun aboute on euery wal
Þei of Troie gan ascende blyve
With þe braunchis of many freshe olive,
In tokne of pes; & Grekes eke ageyn
Amyd þe feld, endelonge þe pleyn,
Shewed hem, þat alle myȝt[e] sene,
Eke of olyue lusti bowes grene.
And to conferme þis fro point to point,
And þat no þing stood in no disioint,
Þe worþi kyng, grete Agamenoun,

714

Committed hath of hiȝe discrecioun
Fully power and auctorite
For þe Grekis, pleinly, vn-to þre,
First of al for a pes to trete:
Vn-to þe wyse worþi kyng of Crete,
To Vlixes and to Diomede—
To chese mo hem þouȝt it was no nede;
For what þei do þei wil holde stable,
And finally nat be variable
From þe ende, platly, þat þei make.
And here-vppon was assurance take
Of ouþer part by bonde of sacrament.
And so þei be with Anthenor y-went
Oute a-side, þese worþi lordes þre.
And whanne þei wern at her liberte,
From al tvmulte allone prively,
Þis Anthenor, ful of trecchery,
Replet of falsehod & of doubilnesse,
Gan his purpos vn-to hem expresse,
Byhotynge hem to traisshe þe cite,
So þei wolde make hym surete,
Þat first hym silfe & with hym Eneas
Shal fredam han in euery maner caas,
Wiþ her allies and goodis euerychon,
Wher þat hem list at large for to goon,
At her chois, or dwellen in þe toun,
With her richesse and posessioun,
With-outen harme or any more damage,
Liche as þei se it be to avauntage
Of her personys, to voiden or abide.
And þei wer sworn on þe Grekis side
Couenaunt to holde in parti and in al,
As was rehersid a-forn in special,
And as þei werne by her oþes bounde,
So þat þer be no variaunce founde

715

On ouþer parti, platly, nor no strif,
And þei be-hiȝte vp pereil of her lyf.
And whan he had assuraunce of hem þre,
He charged hem to kepen in secre
Al þat was seid, þat no þing be discured
Vn-to tyme þat þei were assured
Of þe ende, grocid vp in dede:
For it were good þat þei toke hede
List her purpos perturbed were or shent
By commvnynge, wiþ-oute avisement,
Of þis tongis, þat be so longe & large.
Wherfore he gan coniuren hem & charge,
In al[le] wyse for to bene preue,
So þat no wyȝt but he and þei þre,
Of noon estat, nowþer hiȝe nor lowe,
Fully þe fyn of her entent ne knowe.
“And couertly oure purpos for to hide,”
Quod Anthenor, “vp-on euery side
To voide a-weie al suspecioun,
Þis myn avys: þat to Troye toun
Þe wyse kyng called Taltibyvs
Shal go with me to kyng Priamus,
For he is hoor and y-ronne in age,
Coy of his port, sleiȝti & riȝt sage,
And þer-with-al sadde, demwr, & stille.
Of whom Troyens no þing shal mysille,
But þat he come to tretyn for a pes,
To ben assured and witen dout[e]les
Wher þe Troiens agreen wil þer-to,
In euery þing finally to do
As Anthenor þe Grekis hath be-hiȝt.
Þus shal þei ben devoided anoon riȝt
Þoruȝ his comynge from al suspecioun,
Til þat we han oure conclusioun,

716

As ȝe han herde, parformed euerydel.”
Of whiche þing þe Grekis like wel,
And ben apointed vp-on euery þing
What þei wil do, & how þis olde kyng
Wiþ Anthenor shal to Troye goo.
And after þis, he axede eke also
Of Pantasile þe body for to haue,
In þe cite þat men myȝt it graue
With due honour longynge to hir estat,
To voide aweie suspecioun and debat.
And Anthenor (for it drowe to eve)
Of þe Grekis taken hath his leue,
And with þis kyng repeireþ in-to toun.
Where-of was made anoon relacioun
To kyng Priam, with-oute more delay.
And he in hast vp-on þe nexte day
Made assemble alle his Citeȝeyns,
Secrely deuoidyng alle foreyns,
Where Anthenor in open audience,
Þoruȝ þe halle whan maked was silence,
His tale gan with sugred wordis swete,
Makyng þe bawme outward for to flete
Of rethorik and of elloquence,
Of cher nor word þat þer was noon offence,
In shewynge oute so circumspect he was,
Þat no man koude, in no maner cas,
Be signe outward nor by countenaunce
Parceive in hym any variance
—So harde it was his tresoun to espie—
Theffect declaringe of his embassatrie,
With cler report of his answer ageyn,
In his menyng þouȝ he wer nat pleyn:
For vnder-neþe he was with fraude frauȝt,
Þis sleiȝti wolfe, til he his pray haþ kauȝt:
For he was clos and couert in his speche

717

As a serpent, til he may do wreche,
Hydinge his venym vnder floures longe;
And as a be, þat stingeþ wiþ þe tonge
Whan he haþ shad oute his hony sote,
—Sugre in þe crop, venym in þe rote—
Riȝt so, in soth, with tonge of scorpioun
Þis Anthenor, rote of al tresoun,
His tale tolde wiþ a face pleyn,
Liche þe sonne þat shyneþ in þe reyn,
Þat fair[e] sheweþ þouȝ þe weder be
Wonder diuers & troubly for to se.
So þis tigre, ful of doubilnesse,
So couertly his tresoun dide expresse,
As he nat ment but trouþe to þe toun,
Fully affermyng, in conclusioun,
How þe Grekis myȝti were and stronge,
And likly eke to abide longe,
Day be day redy hem tassaille,
And hadde also plente of vitaille—
Concludynge ay þer was no remedie
Ageyn[e]s hem to holde champartie
Nor with hem any more to stryue.
For (he seide) þei had ȝet a-lyve
Her worþi knyȝtes, hardy as lyouns,
Her manly men and her champiouns,
Whiche, here lyves, platly, to iuparte,
From þe cite caste hem nat departe
Til her purpos acheued be in al:
“For finally nouþer tour nor wal,
Nor ȝoure gatis of Iren þouȝ ȝe shette,
Þe Grekis shal on no side lette,
But þat þei wiln vs wynne at þe laste!
Wherfor, it nedeth a mene weie to caste,
Siþen of myȝt nor fauour of fortune
We may nat longe ageyn[es] hem contwne.
Wherfore,” qoud he, “so ȝe condescende,
I can riȝt wel al þis þing amende,
Remedien, so þat ȝe nat varie

718

To þat I seie for to be contrarie—
Þis to mene, shortly out of doute,
Embassatour whan [þat] I was oute
Wiþ þe Grekis last whan ȝe me sent,
Þei seide goodly, how þei wold assent
Vn-to a pes by þis condicioun:
Þat ȝe wil make restitucioun
Of þe harmys and þe violencis,
Þe wrongis done, and also þe offencis
By Paris wrouȝt in Grece at Citheroun,
As it is riȝt, me semeth, of resoun.
For her request is meint with equite,
And we be driven of necessite
Vn-to her lust iustly to enclyne,
Maugre oure wil þe werre for to fyn;
For al is now in her elleccioun,
We may nat make no rebellioun,
Now þe mater is so fer y-brouȝt,
To strive a-ȝeyn, in soth, it helpith nouȝt,
It may apeire but no þing availle!
Therfore þe beste þat I can consaille,
As in prouerbe it hath be seied of ȝore,
Þat ȝif a man be constreyned sore,
And may nat fle, to fallen in a treyne,
Lete hym chese þe lasse harme of tweyne,
And þe gretter prudently eschewe.
And lete oure gold, þat is kepte in mewe,
To saue oure lif make redempcioun:
For better it is, demeth of resoun,
Spoiled to ben only of richesse,
Þan wilfully deyen in distresse:
Þe lyf is bet þan gold or any good—
Set all at nouȝt in saving of ȝour blood!
For foly is a man for his welfare
Þoruȝ couetyse any gold to spare!

719

And now oure lyf dependeþ in balaunce,
Late gold fare wel & goon with meschaunce,
We may here-after, by sort or auenture,
Gold by grace and good ynowȝ recure!
And sithen we, as I haue ȝow tolde,
May byen [a] pes finally for golde,
And with oure tresour stinten eke þe werre,
It were foly, pleinly, to differre
With þe Grekis outterly tacorde:
For ȝif so be I to hem recorde
Þat ȝe assent, with-outen variaunce,
Þer may of pes be no parturbaunce—
It is so lyȝt now to be recured!
For as sone as þei ben assured,
By iust report, of ȝoure entenciouns,
Þei wil do write obligaciouns
Of couenauntis, þat nat be byhynde;
And þat ȝe shal in hem no faute fynde,
Whan assuraunce from ouþer parte is hadde,
Þer-vppon endenturis shal be made,
So þat of feith ȝe mow hem nat repreue.
And for þat þei fully trust and leue,
With-oute fraude, my relacioun,
I wil now make no dilacioun
To signefie to hem, in certeyn,
Hooly þeffect of þat ȝe wil seien.”

How that A[n]thanor, Enee, and Taltibus were made Imbassators to the Grekes, to trete for A pece; and of the Answer of Kynge Vlixes, Diomede, and the King of Crete, and of theire demaund.

And þe peple loude gan to crye
Alle with o vois, and to magnyfie
Al þat euere Anthenor hath seide;
And vp-on hym þei han þe charge leide

720

Of her answere and entent final,
And by record to reporten al,
Þat no þing be forȝeten in þis cas.
Þei han assigned also Eneas
Wiþ hym to goon for þe same þing,
In þe presence of þe olde kyng
Taltibivs, whiche also of entent
With Anthenor was to Troye sent:
Þe whiche þre han pleinly vndirtake,
As ȝe han herde, a final pes to make,
Al-be þat þei in couert tresoun ment.
And on her weie forþe anoon þei went,
With pleyn power committed of þe toun.
But kyng Priam hath ay suspecioun
To Anthenor and also to Enee,
How þat þei shal distroyen his cite;
And to hym silfe, trist of hertly wo,
He seide: “allas! what is best to do
In þis meschef þat I am in falle!—
And ȝit is þis to me werst of alle,
Þat I am now þoruȝ myn aduersite
Bounde & compelled of necessite,
Maugre myn hed, in maner of ransoun
For my lyf, to make redempcioun
Vn-to my foon þat I haue most at herte.
I se riȝt wel I may it nat asterte:
For I mote paye—þer geyneth no socour—
My good, my gold, richesse & tresour
To my most foon, and dar it nat denye!
And ȝit I stonde of lif in iupartie,
With-oute refut hanginge in ballaunce,
Allas! constreyned þoruȝ my woful chaunce
Tobeie her lust, þat mortally me hate,
Driven þer-to of birþe þoruȝ my fate,
So parchas han my destine y-shape,

721

By noon engyn I may it nat eskape!”
And while Priam gan þus [to] compleyne,
To Anthenor cam þe quene Eleyne,
Beseching hym in his embassatrie
Of gentilnesse for to specefie,
Þoruȝ his prudent mediacioun,
To fynd a waie in conseruacioun
Of hir estat, finally þat she
To Menelay may reconcyled be,
—Ȝif so falle þat þe trete holde—
So þat hir lord of his grace wolde
Restoren hir vn-to hir degre,
Only of mercy and of hiȝe pite.
And Anthenor vn-to hir requeste
Ȝaf audience, makynge a beheste
How he wolde, with al his herte entere,
Be dilligent to trete of þis matere;
And þer-with-al of hym she toke hir leve.
And þis was done on þe same Eue
Þat Anthenor (I pray God ȝif him sorwe!)
To Grekis went on þe nexte morwe,
Only to trete for a pes final.
And in þis while þe feste funeral
Was holde in Troye, myn auctor writeþ þus,
Of a lorde þat called was Glaucus,
A manly knyȝt to-forn in his lyvinge,
And sone was to Priamus þe kyng.
And ouer þis, liche as seith Guydo,
Þat kyng Priam besi[e]de hym also,
Of Pantasillya how þe body myȝt
Be conseruid freshely to þe siȝt;
And, for loue of þis worþi quene,
Of purid golde & of stonys shene
He lete make a vessel ful royal,
And filde it ful of bawme natural

722

To kepe þe cors fro corrupcioun
Til þe werre of Grekis & þe toun
Þoruȝ þe trete wer y-stynted clene:
So þat þe kyng callid Philymene
Þis dede quene myȝt of affeccioun
Carye it home in-to hir regioun,
With hir auncetris buried for to be,
Liche þe maner of old antiquite,
And þe custom vsid in þat tyme—
It wer in veyn mor þer-of to ryme;
I passe ouere vn-to þe trete
A-twene Grekis and Troye þe cite.
And for þe parti of Grekis, as I rede,
First Vlixes, and with hym Diomede,
Assigned wern, and þe kyng of Crete,
With Anthenor and Eneas to mete.
And alle y-fere, shortly in sentence,
By conduit first, and after by licence
Of þe noble wyse Agamenoun,
Þei entred ben in-to Troye toun
By conveiynge of þis Eneas.
Of whos commynge swiche a Ioye þer was
Of þe comowns, whiche in þinges newe
Reioyshen ay, after þouȝ þei rewe,
Wenynge ful wel in her oppinioun,
Þat by þe good[e] mediacioun
Of Vlixes and þe kyng of Crete,
And Diomede, þat cam eke to trete,—
Þat þese þre shulde make as fast
A final pes, euere for to last,
And a ful ende of her alder sorwe.
And þer-vppon, erly þe nexte morwe
Priam lete make a convocacioun
Of alle þe worþi with-Inne Troye toun.
And whan þei were assemblid alle in oon,
Þe wyse Vlixes roos hym vp anoon,

723

And his tale gan in swiche a wyse,
So prudently his wordis to deuyse,
Þat to herkene euery man hath Ioye,
And specially þei þat werne of Troye,
Þat of his inward menynge fraudelent
Ful litel wiste, nor of his entent,
To her plesaunce so he koude feyne.
And first he axeþ of hem þinges tweyne.
Þe ton was þis: þat of þe cite
He wolde haue gold an huge quantite
In recompense of harmys þat wer do;
A-noþer þing he axede eke also:
With-oute abood þat Amphymacus,
Þat sone was to kyng Priamvs,
Perpetuelly þat he exiled be,
Neuere to entre Troye þe cite,
For gold, praier, nor for no ransoun.

How A[n]thenor is confederate with the Grekes, and of his grete dissimulacion agaynst his prince, kynge Priamus. And of the suspectioun of a great noyse of Armure herd in Troy by nyght.

And þis was doon by sugestioun
Of Anthenor, fals and malicious,
Only for he was contrarious
Þat he shold[e] treten for a pes,
And for þat he was nat rek[e]les
To seyn a trouþe—þis Amphymacus.
Þerfore, in soth, þis serpent envious,
Now he hath founde a tyme for to byte,
He þouȝt he wold cruelly hym quyte
For trouþe only þat was in his entent.
Þerfore it is ful expedient,
Of prudence euery man to charge,
Þat his tonge be nat ouer-large:
Trouþes alle be nat for to seyn;

724

For wisdam is, som tyme for to feyne
And dissymule in aduersite,
Specially whan men in trouble be,
And sene her speche may hem nat availle:
Better is þanne þat her tonge faille,
Þan folily to her damage speke.
Men most amonge cure and ouerreke
Þe trouþe of þinges, only of prudence,
And humblely suffre in pacience
For fals report of folkes envious.
Who can so done, I holde hym vertuous:
For bet it is a whyle to abide
Þan seyn al oute of rancour & of pride.
Silence, in soth, hath ofte in hasty strif
Hadde of victorie a prerogatyf,
And þe palme of debatis wonne,
Þat wel are þei þat so suffre konne,
And bene of speche nat presumptuous.
For, as I tolde, þis Amphymacus,
Not-wiþstondynge þat he trouþe ment,
Ȝit for a worde he [in-]to exile went,
Al-be þat God ful iustly afterwarde
Hath Anthenor quyt for his rewarde;
For with þe same he was after hit
For his falshede, duely as it sit:
Þis to seyn, for his iniquite
He was to exile and captiuite
For-iuged after, in-to proscripcioun,
And relegat oute of Troye toun
Perpetuelly by þe procuringe
Of Eneas. Lo! how þe riȝtful kynge,
Þat al may sene in his prouidence,
Ful iustly can maken recompence
Of doubilnes and simulacioun,
And of al swiche contrived fals tresoun:
For who avengeþ with falshed for his part,
He shal ben hit wiþ þe same dart;
He skapeþ nat for to haue a wonde.

725

For falshede ay wil ageyn rebounde
Where it roos first, to his original
Resorte ageyn, riȝt as doth a bal.
For, who for fraude euere doth him caste,
Truste riȝt wel, it wil out at þe laste;
And who supplaunteþ shal supplaunted be,
By good example, as ȝe shal after se,
Of Anthenor þe story ȝif ȝe rede.
And whiles þei treten and procede
Touchinge þe exile and proscripcioun,
Captiuite and relygacioun
Þat þei caste for Amphymacus,
Þer was herde a noyse merveilous,
A gret tumulte and a wounder soun,
Like as it were a lamentacioun
Of sondri folke pleynyng in distresse
For hetly wo and inward heuynesse.
Oute of þe trete evene whan þei gon,
Þis confus cry after gan anoon,
Where-of Vlixes and eke Diomede
Sodeinly fillen in a drede,
Supposynge in her oppinioun
Þat som rumour was fallen in þe toun,
Amonge þe peple and þe commovnte
Of hasty rancour avenged for to be
For þe loue of Amphymacus,
Þat causeles was exiled þus
Of volunte, ageyn al trouþe & riȝt.
Wherfor þei drad, whan it drow to nyȝt
To be mordrid of comouns of þe toun
For þe fraude and conspiracioun
Falsly compassid of old enmyte
By Anthenor and by fals Enee.
And, sothly ȝit, þer was no maner man
Þat koude wyte where-of it be-gan,
Nor espie first where it aroos,
In al þe paleis nor þoruȝ-oute þe cloos:

726

Þei herde it wel, but þei seie nouȝt.
Wher-of þei werne astonyd in her þouȝt,
And affraied of verray sodein drede,
Vlixes moste, and also Diomede,
Liste wiþ commovns þei had be byset.
But Anthenor, with-oute lenger let,
To make hem sure, from al tvmulte & cry
Þe Grekes hath conveied secrely.
And whan þei wern assured of her place,
Vlixes first, with a chaunged face,
Gan pynche sore in þe selfe while
At Anthenor of tresoun and of gyle,
Þat with his hestis so fro day to day,
Of verray sleiȝte, putte hem in delay,
Semynge fully, for ou[ȝ]te he koude espie,
Þer was deceit, fraude, or trecherie
In þe covenauntis þat he hath be-hiȝt.
To whom anoon, þis fals[e] Troyan knyȝt,
With sadde chere & sobre contenaunce,
Wel avised in his dalyaunce,
Answered ageyn, & pleinly dide expresse:
“I-wys,” quod he, “I take vn-to witnesse
Þe hiȝe goddes, þat euery þing may se,
With-oute feynynge þat I haue besy be
Fro point to point ȝour purpos to acheue;
But finally, so it ȝow nat greve,
And paciently þat ȝe list to here,
Þer is o þing perturbeth þis mater,
Whiche þat I shal, so it be noon offence,
Pleinly remembre here in ȝoure presence:
Þis to seyn, of olde antiquite,
First at þe bildyng of Troye þe cite,
Þat whilom was y-called Yllyoun,
—For cause only at his fundacioun,
Kyng Ylyvs, sith[en] go ful longe,

727

Þe founder was of þe walles stronge,
After whom, as made is mencioun,
It called was and named Ylyoun,—
In þe whiche, with grete & besy charge,
In Pallas name he made a temple large,
Þat passyngly was hadde in reuerence.
And whan þis phane of most excellence
Parformed was by masounri ful wel,
And, saue þe rofe, complet euerydel,
Of myȝti stoon þe bildynge wel assured—
But or it was with led & tymber cured,
Ageyn[es] tempest for to bene obstacle,
Þer fil a wounder only by myracle,
Þat I dar wel afferme in certeyn,
Swiche a-noþer was þere neuere seyn
—Who-so list se and considren al—
Þis merveil was so celestial:
For þer cam doun from þe hiȝe heuene,
By Pliades and þe sterris seuene,
And þoruȝ þe eyr holdyng his passage,
Like a fairy a merueillous ymage,
Þat in þis world þouȝ men had[de] souȝt,
Ne was þer noon halfe so wel [y-]wrouȝt.
For, as it is trewly to suppose,
Pigmalyon, remembrid in þe Rose,
In his tyme hadde no konnyng
To graue or peint so corious a þing:
For it was wrouȝt wiþ dilligent labour
By hond of aungil in þe heuenly tour,
Þoruȝ Goddes myȝt & devyn ordinaunce,
And hider sent þoruȝ his puruyaunce,
For a relik, only of his grace,
And prouided to þe same place,
Þer tabide for a proteccioun,
For a diffence and saluacioun,

728

Perpetuelly whil þe world may dure,
Ageyn al meschef and mysauenture,
Euery trouble and tribulacioun,
In sustenynge and reuelacioun,
And souereyn helpe eke of þis cite.
Þe whiche neuer may distroyed be,
By noon engyn þat men may purchase:
Þe goddes han graunted swiche a grace,
And swiche vertu annexed eke þer-to,
Þat Troye in soth may neuer be for-do
Til þis relik stole be a-way.
And ȝit, in soth, þer is no man þat may
From þe place stere it nor remewe,
But þe prest to whom it is dwe
Only of offys to touche it with his hond.
So myȝtely conseruyd is þe bond,
Þat who attempteth, in conclusioun,
It to remewe of presumpcioun,
At þe fyn, platly, he shal fayle:
For force noon may him nat availle;
For it in soth wil nat remeved be
Excepte of hym to whom of duete
It aparteneth, as ȝe han herde to-forn.
And, ouermore, þer is no man ȝit born,
Þat rede can, nor telle in no degre,
Verraily, wher it be stoon or tre,
Nor how it was deuysed nor y-wrouȝt—
Þer is no wyȝt so sotil in his þouȝt
Ceriously to tellen þe manere.
For Minerua, þat is so freshe & clere,
Þe sterne goddesse, þoruȝ hir gret[e] myȝt,
Þat is so dredful boþe of loke & siȝt,
Whiche on hir brest haueth of cristal

729

Hir shilde Egys—þis goddesse inmortal—
I-graunted hath, in bokes as I lerne,
Þoruȝ hir power whiche [þat] is eterne,
Þis holy relik for a memorial
To hir temple of bildyng most royal,
It to conserue from al assaut of drede,
And to socour in euery maner nede
Ageyn her foon vn-to Troye toun,
While it is kept with deuocioun:
So þat alweye by successioun,
From kyng to kyng in þe lyne doun,
By iust title lyneally succede,
Here-to annexed þat þei taken hede,
Prudently avoidynge necligence,
It to conserue with due reuerence,
As þei are bounde & y-holde of riȝt.
Þanne shal noon enmy power haue nor myȝt
To do damage in hyndrynge of þe toun.
And whi it is called Palladyoun,
Like as clerkis write of it and seyn,
Is, for Pallas, to make hir toun certeyn,
Þis relyke sent fro þe heuene doun.
And to conclude shortly my resoun,
Þis is þe cause oure purpos is so let.”
“Þan,” quod Vlixes, “sith it may be no bet,
Oure labour is in ydel and in veyn,
With-oute recure, ȝif it be certeyn,
As þou hast seyd, þis toun in no degre
Þoruȝ þis relyk may not distroied be:
It was foly þe to vndirtake
Vn-to Grekis beheste for to make,
With-oute þis, þou haddest be ful sure.”
Quod Anthenor, “ȝit þer is recure:
As I haue hiȝt, ȝe shal haue þe toun,

730

Al-þeiȝ þer be a dilacioun;
And þe maner anoon I shal telle,
Ȝif it so be ȝe list a whyle dwelle
With-oute noyse ouþe[r] perturbaunce.
Þe prest, þe whiche hath þe gouernaunce
Of þis relyk, shal be spoke vn-to,
By good avys, and y-treted so,
Þat he shal be ful of oure assent;
For he with gold & tresour shal be blent,
Þat he accorde shal to oure purpos,
To bringe þe relike, whiche is kept so clos,
To what place þat ȝe list assigne.
Beth stille of port, goodly, & benigne
In ȝoure werkis til I haue brouȝt aboute
Fully þis þing, and beth no þing in doute,
I dar my silfe take it wel on honde.”
And whan þei had his menyng vndirstonde,
Þei toke leue & wente oute of þe toun.
But first to voide al suspecioun,
At her goynge Anthenor hath hiȝt
How þat he wold goon þe same nyȝt
To Priamus, “to maken ordinaunce
How þe bondis and þe assuraunce
Of þe pes shulde y-maked be,
And for to knowe eke þe quantite
Of þe gold þat ȝe shal receyve:
Þus shal I best þe purpos aparceyve
Of þe kyng to knowe it euerydel.”
And þei concent, & like wonder wel
Euery þing þat Anthenor hath seide;
And so þei parte, glad & wel apaide,
And wente her way & made no tariyng.
And Anthenor goth vn-to þe kyng,
Hym counseillynge, he make no delay
To calle his lordis ageyn þe next[e] day,
And his liges to assemble y-fere,

731

Finally tengrosse þis matere,
As it was sittinge and expedient.
And whanne þe kyng in open parlement
Crowned sat in his regalie,
Þis Anthenor gan to specefie
In audience, þat men myȝt[e] knowe,
To eche estat, boþe hiȝe and lowe,
Þe Grekis wille, ȝif þei agre þer-to,
And what þe some was of gold also
Whiche þei axe, ȝif þe pes shal stonde:
Twenti þousand marke to haue in honde
Of pured gold, whiche most anon be paid,
And of siluer, þat may nat be delaied,
Þei most eke han þe same quantite;
And ouer þis, as þei accorded be,
Certeyn mesours be couenaunt also haue
Of whete & flour, her lyues for to saue
In her repeire by þe large se,
Whan þei saille home to her contre,—
And þat þe collect maked be anoon,
By good avis of hem euerychoon,
Þat al be redy be a certeyn day.
Þer was no man þat durst þo seie nay
Nor contrarie þat Anthenor haþ seide,
Wher-so þei wer wel or evele apaide,
But ful assent, in conclusioun.
And in al haste, þoruȝ-oute al þe toun,
Þe colytours gadrid vp þe gold,
Like þe somme þat I haue ȝou told,—
Of pore and riche þer wer spared noon.
Þe whiche tyme Anthenor is goon
Vn-to þe prest þat called was Thonaunte,
Ȝif he myȝt in any wyse hym daunte:
To make his herte fully to enclyne,
Ful craftely he leyde oute hoke & lyne,

732

With lusty bait of fals[e] couetyse,
Excitynge hym in ful secre wyse,
Þat he wold[e] ben of his assent,
And condescende vn-to his entent,
To putten hym in pocessioun
Of þe relik called Palladioun,
With-oute abood it may delyuered be;
And ȝaf hym gold an huge quantite,
And hym to blende moche more him [be-]hyȝt,
—And þis was don ful preuely by nyȝt,—
Shortly concludynge, ȝif he condescende,
Þat he wolde his estat amende
So passyngly, þat for euermore
He and his heires shulde haue gold in store,
Plente y-nowe, þat noon indigence
Shulde haue power him to done offence.
“For vn-to þe, þis a-vow I make,”
Quod Anthenor, “and platly vndirtake,
Of gold & good þou shalt haue suffisance,
And of tresour passinge habundaunce,
Þat þou shalt, in verray sikernesse,
Al þi kyn excellen in richesse,
Ȝif þou delyuere, like to myn axynge,
Palladioun, whiche is in þi kepynge.
And I be-hote—þou maist trest[e] me—
By bond of feiþ it shal be secre,
List it were hindringe to þi name:
For ȝif so be, þat þou drede shame,
To be esclaundrid of so foule a dede,
I shape shal þat þe thar nat drede
Nor ben agast in no maner wyse;
For swiche a way, in soth, I shal deuise,
Þat no man shal be suspecious
To þi persone, nor engynyous

733

To deme amys, how þis mater goth.
For be wel ware, þat me were as loth
To be diffamed of so false a þing,
To knowe þer-of, or be assentynge
In any maner, þat þei of þe toun
Sholde to me haue suspecioun,—
Lat be, lat be,—leuere I hadde deie!
We shal þer-for cast a-noþer weie,
Oure honour saue, so þat þou & I
Shal goon al quyte—I seie þe outterly,
Þat nouþer shal be hold[e] partener
Of þis thefte, but stond[e] hool & cler
What-euere falle, with-outen any shame:
For Vlixes shal beren al þe blame
Of þis dede and þis þefte also;
For men shall sein, whan [þat] it is go,
By his engyn & his sleiȝti wyle,
Þoruȝ his treynes & his false gyle,
Þat he hath stole aweie Palladioun
From þe temple, in lesyng of þe toun—
Þat, finally, duringe al his lyve
Men shal to hym þis falshed ascryve,
And al þe gilt arretten his offence!
Þat þou and I, only of Innocence,
Þoruȝ-oute þe world of þis iniquite
Shal be excused, platly, & go fre.
It nedeth not tarie in þis matere,
Come of attonys! lo, þi gold is here!
For þou ne shalt lenger delaied be.
And sith þou seste þat no difficulte
Is on no part, pereil nor repref,
Shame nor drede, sclaunder nor meschef,
Delaie nat to take þis þing on honde!”
And first þis prest gan hym to with-stonde

734

Ful myȝtely, and seide, for no þinge,
Nouþer for praier nor for manacinge,
For gold nor good, ne no maner mede
He nolde assent to so foule a dede!
(Þus he answered at þe prime face.)
But ofte sithe it happeth men purchase
By ȝifte of good, to speke in wordis pleyn,
Þat trouþe in pouert myȝt neuer atteyne:
For mede more by falshede may conquere
Þan title of riȝt, þat men in trouþe lere;
And ȝiftes grete hertis can encline;
And gold, þat may in stele & marbil myne,
Þis prestis hert hath so depe graue,
Þat Anthenor shal his purpos haue,
For to possede þe Palladioun,
Þoruȝ false engyn and conspiracioun
Of þis prest, þat called was Tonaunt,
Whiche of falshede myȝt hym best avaunte,
Þat þis relik fro þe temple rent.
And to Vlixes Anthenor it sent,
Oute of þe toun, in al þe haste he myȝt,
By a seruaunt secrely by nyȝt:
Wher-of Troyens mortally dismaied,
And þoruȝ tresoun finally outtraied,
Wrouȝt by þis prest with couetise blent,
False Anthenor beynge of assent.

How the translatour compleyneth hym of the transmutacioun and couetousnes of priestes.

O Troye, allas! wel maistow mourne & wepe,
In compleynynge with hertly siȝes depe,
Falsly defraudid of Palladioun,
And putte for euere oute of pocessioun.
O myȝti goddes, þat þe world gouerne,

735

And euery þing þoruȝ ȝour myȝt concerne,
Riȝt as it is, of ȝoure deite,
And trouþe & falshed may to-gedre se
In euery herte þoruȝ ȝoure puruyaunce,
Whi toke ȝe nat on þis prest vengaunce?—
Þat traitourly, þoruȝ his iniquite,
For gold and good be-traisshed þe cite
Of Troye, allas! with-oute more recure.
Who shal emforþe any more be sure,
Or any place stonde in sikerte,
Sith holynesse of so hiȝe degre
May bene infect & corrupt wiþ mede?
Euery hert ouȝte quake and drede
To sene, allas! by false ypocrisye,
Prestis, þat shulde þe worlde exemplifie
With good[e] doctrine of perfeccioun,
To make so sone a transmutacioun,
Of double entent sodeinly to varie!
For dout[e]les, ȝif þe seintuarie
Be pollut founde in conuersacioun,
Naked and bare of deuocioun,
And þat þe shynyng of her parfit liȝt
I-turned be by derknes vn-to nyȝt,
Vn-to what place shal men ferþer go
To take ensaumple what hem ouȝt[e] do?
Certis, þe rote & grounde of euerydel
Is couetise—who-so loke wel,—
Of whiche þe greyne is so fer y-sowe,
Þat who-so list auarice knowe,
Amonge prestis he shal it rathest fynde;
For þer-with-al þei be maked blynde
To her estat, þat þei may nat se.
For, in sothnes, þer is no degre

736

Gredier nor more ravynous
Of worldly good, nor more coueitous
Þan prestis ben to cacche what þei may:
For it is goon sithen many day,
Þat in her brest ficched was þe rote
Of couetise, whiche sit so sote
Þat no man may arrace him nor remewe;
For at her tail euere it doth hem swe,
Þis false werme, moder & norice
Of al meschef and of euery vice.
For gold is now so shynyng & so briȝt,
So percinge eke, & so clere of lyȝt,
Þat prestis ben with his stremys blent:
For, in sothnes, þei ben in her entent
Of couetise verray receptacle,
And to possede eke þe tabernacle.
Her hert is ay so gredy to embrace,
Þat auarice haþ his loggyng place
Mid of her breste, þis vice of vices alle!
Þat causeþ vertu raþest for to falle,
Wher he abit, so he can supplaunte.
Recorde I take of þe preste Tonaunte,
Þat for tresour to Anthenor haþ sold
Þe riche relik þat he had in hold,
Palladioun, while þei of Troye toun
Han gadrid vp abouten enviroun,
Of riche and pore þoruȝ[-out] þe cite,
Gold and siluer an huge quantite,
Flour & whete to paien her raunsoun.
Þe whiche somme of entencioun
Þei made kepe wysly and conserve
In þe temple þat longeþ to Minerve,
Purposynge after, of oon affeccioun,
—Þe citeȝens þoruȝ-oute al þe toun,
Hopynge þer-by for to fare þe bet—
Vp-on a day, assigned and y-set,

737

To Appollo in her paynym wyse
Solempnely make a sacrifise,
With slauȝter of bestis, with encence & blood.

Off the Meruelous obstacle and wondre perceyued in makyng of their sacrifice to Appollo; and how an Egle dyd bere away their sacrifice.

On whiche day, whan þe prestis stood
In compas rounde abouten þe autere,
And gan to kyndle þe coles briȝt & clere
Vp-on þe are, pleinly, as I rede,
To offren vp þe bestis þat were dede,
In þe flawme and þe grete levene,
To Appollo stellefied in heuene,—
Whan þei to offre wer most laborious,
Þer be-fil two þinges merueilous:
Þe first[e] was, þat þe sacrid fire
Ne wolde brenne like to her desire,
Nor þe flawme vp ascende alofte,
Al-be þat þei assai[e]den ful ofte,
More þanne ten tyme, & ȝit it nolde be;
For ay it queinte, þat þei ne myȝt[e] se
Nouȝt but smoky resoluciouns,
Horrible and blak, like exalac[i]ouns
Of newe lyme whan þat it is meint
Wiþ water colde & of his hete queynt,—
Þat þei myȝte in no maner wyse,
For lak of fir, don her sacrifise;
For ay þei fonde a wonderful obstacle!
And þe nexte was a mor miracle:
On her auter whan þei gan to sprede
Þe entrailles of bestis þat were dede,
To queme Appollo with flawmys [briȝt and] faire,
Þer cam anon doun oute of þe ayre
A royal egle, ful percinge of his loke,

738

And in his clees þe offringe vp he toke
And þe entreylles liggynge enviroun,
In his discence makynge swiche a soun,
Þat noon so hardy of herte nor manhod,
But þat he was astonied þer he stood,
And supprised þoruȝ nerf and euery veyne
Of þis merueile and þis cas sodeyne.
But þe egle, abidinge þer no more,
Ouer þe toun ful hiȝe gan to sore,
Toward Grekis enhastinge what he myȝt,
And on her shipes sodeynly a-liȝt,
And þe entrailles of þe bestis alle
Þis egle lete from his clees falle:
Wher-of Troyens, whan þei token hede,
Dis[a]maied wiþ a mortal drede,
By signes han clerly comprehendid
Þat her goddes gretly wer offendid
Ageyn þe toun, whan þe fire went oute;
And for þei wold be putte oute of doute,
To be sure what þis merveile ment,
To Cassandra in al haste þei went,
Fully to han declaracioun,
And þer-vp-on plein exposicioun.

How Appollo, their god, by many signes and tokynges shewing vn[to] them, perceyuid he was sore displesid for the polucioun of his temple with the blode of Achilles, wich by treason was slayne in the temple.

And she tolde hem, platly, oute of drede,
Þat þe quenchinge of her fires rede
Was vn-to hem a demonstracioun
Boþe of Ire and indignacioun
Þat Appollo hath to Troye bore,
For þe blood þat was shad be-fore
Of Achilles, in his temple slawe,
Vengably mordrid and y-drawe,

739

With-outen any maner reuerence
Or honour done to þe excellence
Of Appollo, beynge þer present,
Þat þe phane and placis adiacent
Wern defouled and pollut with [þe] blood.
Wherfore, she seid[e] shortly, it was good
Þat þei went on processioun,
With herte contrit and deuocioun,
To þe toumbe of Achilles at nyȝt,
Only to fette on her tapris liȝt
Sacrid fire, brennynge at þe wake,
Fully in purpos by assent to make
For his mordre satisfaccioun,—
“Þe whiche fire be noon occasioun
Shal nat quenche, but his flawmys holde,
Þoruȝ noon assaut of stormy wyndes colde;
Þe sacrifise vp-on þe autere
To-forn Appollo brenne shal so clere.”
And þei of Troye wrouȝt[e] by her rede.
But of þe egle she bad hem taken hede,
[Þat] No þinge was but tokne of tresoun,
Pronostik and declaracioun,
Finally how Troye and Yllyoun
Shal turne in haste to destruccioun:
For þe fleynge of þis foule royal
Ouer þe toun and þe myȝti wal,
With his fethres mailed, briȝt, & shene,
And þe entreylles in his clees kene,
To Troye was a final demonstraunce,
Sothfast shewynge & signeficaunce,
Þat grace and ewre [and hap] of olde fortune
Be lyklyhed myȝt[e] nat contvne
Nor perseuere in her first[e] lyȝt;
For alle attonys þei haue take her fliȝt,—
Palladioun myȝt hem nat wiþ-holde,

740

Þat stole was, like as I ȝow tolde;
For no man may his fatal chaunce refuse.
And Grekis eke faste gan to mvse,
And inwardly in her wittes souȝte
Of þe entrailles þat þe egle brouȝte,
And þer-vp-on gan to-gider rowne,
Til þat Calchas dide euery þing expowne,
And vn-to hem fully gan assure
Þat þe fyn of þis aventure
Conclude shulde vppon her welfare,
And bad also, for no cost þei spare
To perseuere and ben of herte stable,
By fortune hem silfe to enable,
Hem counseillynge to do her besy peyne,
Solempnely in haste to ordeyne
A certeyn offringe, born oute of þe felde,
To faire Pallas with hir cristal shelde,
And to hir make a riche sacrifise,
As þe story by ordre shal deuyse.

How the Traytor Bysshop Calcas ymagined a large horse of brasse, wherin was a Ml. knyghtes, fainyng a sacrifice to be done to Paullas.

Bysshop Calchas, with his lokkes hore,
Traitour forsworn siþen go ful ȝore,
Þat falsid haþ trouþe & his lygaunce,
Whom clerkis han putte in remembraunce
In her bokis, wiþ lettris, olde and newe,
To exemplifie no man be vntrewe:
For þauȝ ȝeris passe faste a-weye,
Ruste of sclaundir liȝtly wil nat deye;
Þe fret þer-of is so corosif,
Þat it lasteþ many mannys lyf,

741

And is ful hard to arrace away;
Of whos venym ful selde is made alay—
Reporte þer-of blowen is so wyde,
Perpetuelly þat it wil abide,
Remembrid new & freshly had in mynde.
Recorde of hym þat koude a weye fynde:
Olde Calchas, evele mote he sterue!—
Vnder colour of offringe to Mynerue,
To make Grekes entren in-to toun,
Þis sleiȝti serpent, fader & patroun
And fynder-vp of tresoun and of gyle,
Compassid hath and y-founde a wyle,
How Grekis shal þe cite wynne & take,
Pretendynge hem sacrifise to make
Vn-to Pallas, as I shal expresse:
For þis traitour, merour of falsnesse,
Þe Grekis bad for to do her peyne
To Minerva an off[e]ringe to feyne,
And in al haste þat þei shuld hem spede.
And of assent þei dide make a stede,
Large and wyde, of coper & of bras,
By crafte of Synoun, þat contrived was
Þat it myȝt resseive large and wel
A þousand knyȝtes armed briȝt in stel,—
Þoruȝ þe sleiȝte and þe compassynge,
Þe sotil wit & merveillous werchinge
Of þis wyse and crafty Greke Synoun,—
Whiche, þoruȝ his castynge and discrecioun,
Parformed haþ þis riche stede of bras,
As ȝe han herd, be biddinge of Calchas,
And by thavys of Appivs þe wyse,
Þat halpe also þe stede to deuyse,
To fyn only þat of deuocioun
Grekis myȝt requeren of þe toun—

742

Whan it were made—to graunt[e] hem licence
It to present in þe reuerence
Of myȝti Pallas, in stele armyd briȝt,
Amyd hir temple, large & ful of liȝt,—
By þe offringe to fynde occasioun
To haue entre frely in-to toun,
By pilgrimage her vowes to fulfille:
In whiche stede daren shal ful stille
A þousand knyȝtes, as Calchas be devis
Ordeyned haþ, þat was so sliȝe & wys.
By crafte of Synoun and of Appivs,
Þis large stede, of makynge merveillous,
Vnder pretence of oblacioun,
Was complet ful to his perfeccioun
Of werkemanshipe, as I tolde a-fore,
Þe same ȝere þat Troye was for-lore,
Whan þe sege, sothly, gan to fyne,
And þe cite was brouȝt to ruyne
Þoruȝ Grekis myȝt; & þe walles stronge
Were bete doun, large, þikke, and longe;—
Þe whiche ȝere, as made is mencioun,
A lite a-forn takynge of þe toun,
Kynges echon þat come fro so ferre,
A-lyve lefte after þe mortal werre,
Whan þei saw how Priam be couenaunte
Vn-to Grekis haþ outterly made graunte
Al hast possible to paien his ransoun,
Þei toke leve, and went oute of þe toun.
And first, I fynde, how kyng Philymene
With hym ladde þe body of þe quene
Pantasillya home to hir contre,
Ful richely þer to buried be;
And of two þousand knyȝtes þat þis kyng
Brouȝt vn-to Troye first at his comyng,

743

No mo þan fifty home with hym he ladde.
And of wommen þat þe quene eke hadde,
Of a þousand, þe story seith certeyn,
But foure hundrid repeired hom ageyn.
And þus whan alle were fro Troie gon,
Þe morwe next Priamus anon
With his lordis rood oute of þe toun,
As was þacord for confirmacioun
Of pes final vp-on ouþer syde.
And in þe feld Grekis hym abide;
And, on relikes openly y-born,
Þer þei wern on ouþer parti sworn,
On þe forme to ȝow a-fore recorded,
As Anthenor with Grekis was accorded.
And for Grekis firste swore Diomede,
Þei of Troie takynge lytel hede
How þe oþe was in condicioun,
Cured a-bove vnder false tresoun,
Siþen Grekis þo in her sweryng
Ne bounde hem silfe to no manere þing
To stonde to, as in special,
But for to holde & kepe in general
Þe poyntes hool engrosid, and no mor,
In þilke trete þat daunȝ Anthenor
With Grekis helde, þis traytour fraudelent!
In whiche þei werne ful double of entent
—Meint with tresoun, as ȝe han herd to-forn,—
Whiche to obserue only þei wer sworn,
By fraude of oþe, & nat by wordis pleyne,
Her aduersaries to taken in a treyne,
Excludyng hem fro her menyng ferre,
Pes in þe face, but in þe herte werre,
Al openly confermyd with her hond,
Inly to tresoun, by assurance of bond.

744

But þouȝ þe venym was closid with a wal,
It was nat hid from him þat knoweþ al:
For, certeynly, so as clerkes teche,
Who þat swereth falsly in his speche,
Florisshinge outward by a fair colour
For to desseive his trewe neȝ[e]bour,
He is forsworn, what-so-euere he be!
Þe tresoun hid þouȝ men may nat se,
How-so þe word be a-way [y-]born:
Who swereþ by craft is by craft for-sworn;
Þer may be made noon excusacioun.
For God þat knoweþ þe entencioun,
Demeth þe herte, & þe word riȝt nouȝt;
For he þe wil knoweþ and þe þouȝt
Of euery man, nyȝe and eke a-fere:
Þerfore be war, no man him for-swere,
As Grekis dide Troiens to deceyve,
Þat þe fraude koude nat conceyve,
Supposinge þat þe Grekis hadde be
Feithful and trewe of her surete—
But no þing oon þei in herte þouȝt,—
Whiche in þe ende þei ful dere abouȝt,
Whan þei founde fully þe reuers,
And to her speche þe dede so diuers.
It were but veyn by & by to write
Her feyned oþes, nor her wordis whyte,
Nor þe cheris þat þei koude feyne.
But, to conclude with, þe quene Eleyne,
Duri[n]ge þe trete, vp-on þe same day
Delyuered was to kyng Menelay;
And after þat, was payed þe raunsoun,
Grauntid to-forn and gadrid in þe toun:
Gold & siluer, whete & also flour;
And to her shippes with dilligent labour,

745

In ful gret hast euery þing was brouȝt,
Wher-þoruȝ þe cite after cam to nouȝt.
And Grekis þanne, by symulacioun,
Makyng a colour of deuocioun,
Þoruȝ holynes, vnder ypocrosye,
Falsly feyned by fraude & flaterie,
Þe kyng han preied to han liberte
Frely to entre in-to þe cite,
To make a-seth by oblacioun
For þe þefte of Palladioun,
And offren vp þe riche stede of bras
To þe goddes þat called is Pallas,
—Whan kyng Priam likeþ to assigne—
Þat she to hem be willy & benygne
In her repeire seilynge be þe se
Home in-to Grece toward her contre,
Whan she is quemed with þis large stede.
Of whiche, allas! Priam toke noon hede;
Þe tresoun hidde he koude nat aduerte,
But graunted hem with al his hole herte,
Whan þat hem list to bringe it in-to toun,—
By false entising and suggestioun
Of Anthenor and also of Enee,
Havynge no drede nor ambyguyte
In his entent, nor suspecioun
Nouþer of feynyng nor of fals tresoun,
But, riȝt frendly, liche to his beheste,
Condescendeth vn-to her requeste,
Her avowes þat þei myȝt obserue,
To offren vp þis hors vn-to Minerue.
And Grekis þo, with gret[e] dilligence,
Ful gret honour and huge reuerence
Han shapen hem with processioun
To bringe þe stede in-to Troie toun,
Þe men of armys being ay þer-Inne,
By whom þei cast Troie for to wynne
In short tyme, for it stood on þe date.

746

How the Grekes had licens to breke the walle of Troy, to brynge in their large stede of brasse, to Offer vnto Pallas in sacrifice; & how the knyghtes came oute in the nyght, & betrayde þe citie.

And whan þis hors brouȝt was to þe gate,
It was so narwe þat þer was no space
For þe stede in-to þe toun to passe,
Al-be þat þei assaied oueral.
Wherfore Priam bete adoun þe wal
To make it large, riȝt at her devys,
In whiche þing, allas! he was vnwis:
For cause chef of his confusioun
Was þat þis hors cam in-to þe toun.
But humblely forþe þei gan procede
To þe temple wiþ þis large stede;
And to Pallas mekely doun knelynge,
Alle attonis þei made her off[e]ringe,
With feyned chere and fals deuocioun.
Wherof in herte glad was al þe toun,
And specially þei þat wern of Troye.
But soth is seid, þat ay þe fyn of Ioye
Wo occupieth, as men ful ofte se:
For vnwarly cometh aduersite
After gladnes, and mysaventure,
Whan men best wene for to stonde sure.
In worldly blis is noon affiaunce,
So diuers is his vnhappi chaunce—
Ful of deceit, euere meint with trouble,
And for to triste variaunt and double,
And selde in oon abidinge eny þrowe.
For worldly lust, þouȝ it be now blowe
With pompe and pride, & with bost & soun,
Anon it passeth: record of Troie toun,
Þat wende wel, by þis riche stede

747

To haue be sure & deuoide of drede
Perpetuelly, as I haue told to-fore.
But whan Grekis han þis hors y-bore
To-fore Pallas, as ȝe haue herde me telle,
Hem liketh nat lenger for to dwelle
In þe boundis of þis myȝti toun;
But of purpos to þe Greke Synoun
Þei haue committed hool þe gouernaille
Of þis stede, [þe] whiche wil nat faile,
Whan he seth best oportunyte,
By his engyn to traisshe þe cite.
And Grekis han in þis while founde
A newe sleiȝte hem fully to confounde:
Þis to seyn, þei haue made her sonde
To kyng Priam, þei wold[e] go fro londe
Vn-to þe see toward Tenedoun,
And þedir seille, for þis conclusioun:
For þat Eleyne, by good avysement,
In secre wyse þedir shal be sent;
For þei dradde ȝif vppon þe londe
She were delyuered, shortly, to her honde,
Grekis wold of malys done her peyne,
Þe more parti to sleen þe quene Eleyne:
For she was grounde & gynnynge of her wo,
Þe verray rote and þe cause also
Of þe slauȝtre of many worþi man,
Siþen þe tyme þe sege first be-gan.
Wherfore, (þei seide) for to stinte al strif,
And to be sure for to saue hir lyf,
Þe beste was to send hir oute of siȝt,
Secrely to Tenedoun be nyȝt.
Þus þei feyned of ful false tresoun,
Priam to putte from al suspecioun,
Askauns þei wolde neuere after her lyve
Resorte ageyn with Troye for to strive

748

—Þus þei made Priam for to wene;—
But in þe hond he was deceived clene,
Of her deceit knowynge neuere-a-del;
For in his herte he þouȝt[e] nat but wel,
Grauntinge hem al þat myȝt hem plese.

How the Grekes spoyled and burned the citie of Troy, and after toke shipping; and of their misauenture on þe see.

And whanne þei had at leiser & good ese
Fro Troye seiled vn-to Tenedoun
With her navie, þe false Greke Synoun
In Troie waker gan to take kepe
Þe hour whan men wern in her first slepe;
And, in al haste, wiþ his sleiȝty gyn,
Many vys and many sotyl pyn
In þe stede he made aboute goon,
Þe crafty lokkes vndoynge euerychon;
And oute [he] goth, & gan anoon to calle
With-Inne þe hors þe worþi knyȝtes alle,
So secrely no man myȝt espie;
And traitourly he gan hym for to hiȝe
Vp-on þe walles, þe silfe same nyȝt,
And toward Grekis gan [to] shewe a lyȝt,
Where as þei leye to-fore Tenedoun,
Redy armyd to falle vppon þe toun.
And whan þei hadde þe sodein liȝt espied,
On hors[e]-bak anoon þei han hem hyȝed
Toward Troy, armed clene at al;
And in þei went by þe same wal
Whiche for þe hors was but late broke;
And mortally, for to ben a-wroke,
Þe knyȝtes eke in þe stede of bras
Han with hem mette, a ful sterne pas,
And gan anoon þoruȝ-oute þe cite

749

On euery half for to kylle & slee,
With blody swerd vp-on euery side,
And made her wondes brode, large, & wyde
—While þei, allas! no þing aduertinge,
At mydnyȝt hour a-bedde laie slepynge,
Ful Innocent and þouȝt[e] nouȝt but good—
Al for-baþed in her owne blood,
Boþe man & childe, with-oute excepcioun,
Þe Grekis sparinge no condicioun
Of old nor ȝong, womman, wif, nor maide—
Þat with þe cry Priamus abraide
Oute of his slepe, & sodeynly a-woke,
Whiche laye al nyȝt & noon hede [ne] toke
Of þe slauȝter and mordre in þe toun;
But þo he wist þat þer was tresoun
Falsly compassid vn-to his cite
By Anthenor and also by Enee,
Of whos malis he was no mor in doute:
For þe venym was now broken oute,
And now þe galle of conspirac[i]oun,
Þat vnder sugre of symulacioun
Hath so longe closid ben and hidde,
In dede is now execut and kyd.
And now þe fraude fully of tresoun,
Þe cast also of false collusioun
Be raked oute, and abrood y-blowe,
And þe autours openly y-knowe.
Now hath envie and contrived hate
Of her engyn set a-brood þe gate;
Now hath deceit & olde conspiracie
And feyned oþes, alle of oon allie,
Openly shewed her falsnesse,
And disclosid al hir doubilnesse
So fer a-brod, þat now is þer no geyn!
For now, allas! þe wilde fire is seyn

750

In touris hiȝe with þe wynde y-blasid,
Wherof Priam, astonyd & amasid,
Al awaped sterte oute of his bedde,
And counfortles to þe temple is fledde
Of Appollo, to saue hym ȝif he myȝt.
And ay þe flawme of þe fires briȝt
Brent in þe toun, & conswmeth al
Þe riche bildinge, whilom so royal,
Þat þe walles with her roves huge,
Couered with leed for a chef refuge,
Were now, allas! bare & bareyne maked.
Þe Grekis ay wiþ her swerdes naked
Mordre and sle where-so þat þei go,
Þat twenti þousand, þilke nyȝt, & mo
Þei kylled han, longe or it was day;
And in þis slauȝter & þis grete affray
Spoile & robbe, & take what þei fynde,
Tresour & good, and left[e] nat bi-hinde,
Be myȝti hond & sturdi violence.
And þe temples, wiþ-oute reuerence
Þei han dispoilled þoruȝ-oute al þe toun,
And gredely rent and racid doun
Of golde & siluer þe ornementes alle
To-fore þe goddes—foule mote hem falle!—
Kyng Priam ay with a dedly chere
To Appollo makyng his praiere
Furiously, þis hertly woful man,
As he, in soth, þat no red ne can
But waite his deth & his fatal ewre.
And Cassandra, þat holy creature,
Of inward wo desirous to sterve,
Compleynynge ran vn-to Minerve,
Makynge to hir a lamentacioun
With oþer gentil-wommen of þe toun.

751

And þer, allas! as þei wolde dye,
Ful pitously þei sobbe, wepe, and crie.
And in her dool þer y lete hem dwelle;
For alle her sorwes ȝif I shulde telle
In þis story, and her wo descrive,
Mi penne shuld of verray routhe rive,—
Rehersinge eke how in euery strete,
Her cloþes blake, rodi, moiste, and wete,
As þei, allas! bothen oon and alle,
On her lordes doun a-swone falle,
With her blod be-dewed & y-spreint,—
Wher men may seen þe cristal teris meynt
Of her wepinge in þer woundes grene,
Þat lay and bledde ageyn þe sonne shene,
With dedly eyen castinge vp þe whyte:
It were but veyne al her wo to write,
Nor þe maner of her mortal sorwe.
But Guydo writ, þat þe same morwe,
How Anthenor, and with hym [fals] Enee,
Conveied han þoruȝ-oute þe cite
Þe myȝti Grekis vn-to Ylyoun,
Þe royal tour and riche mancioun
Þat whilom was of most excellence;
In þe whiche þei founde no diffense
Of hiȝe nor lowe, nor of noon estat,
For it was left allone dissolat,
With al þe gold and richesse of þe toun
Shet & closed in þe chefe dongoun.
But for þer was no man þat with-stood,
Þei brake þe lokkes & rauȝt [away] þe good
And þe tresour þat was shet with-Inne,
Eche for his part[y] þat he myȝt[e] wynne:
Þei ȝaf no fors who was lef or loth.
And Pirrus after to þe temple goth

752

Of Appollo by gret cruelte,
And fil on Priam knelynge on his kne,
And wiþ his swerd, furious and wood,
To-fore þe autere shad[de] þere his blood,
Þat þe stremys of his woundys rede
So hiȝe rauȝt, boþe in lengþe and brede,
Þat þe statue of gold bornyd briȝt
Of þis Appollo, for al his grete myȝt,
For al his power and his sterne face,
Defouled was, and pollut al þe place—
Only by deth of þis worþi kynge
By Pirrus slayn while he lay knelynge,
Of olde hatrede & envious pride,
While Anthenor and Enee stod be-side—
Þat routhe was and pite to beholde,
To sen hym lyn on þe stonys colde,
So pitously to-forn þe auter blede.
Where-of, allas! whan Eccuba toke hede,
And hir douȝter, faire Polycene,
With here to-rent, as any gold wyr shene,
Inly supprised wiþ sorwe to þe herte,
Whan þei began considren and aduerte
Þe noble kyng, [with] blody stremys rede
Al fordrowned, his eyen dirke & dede,
Wiþ Pirrus swerd girt þoruȝ ouþer side,—
For mortal fere þei durst[e] nat abide;
But inwardly þoruȝ-darted with þe siȝt,
Al in a rage toke hem to þe fliȝt.
And ȝit, in soth, þoruȝ-oute þe cite
Þei wist[e] neuer whiderward to fle,
Reskus was noon nor no remedie
Of kyn nor frend, nor of noon allie;
With Grekis swerd þe toun was so be-set.

753

And, in her fliȝt, þis woful quen haþ met
Eneas, causer of al þis wrak,
Vn-to whom, rebukynge, þus she spak:
“O þou traitour, most malicious!
Þou false serpent, adder envious!
Crop and rote, fynder of falsnesse,
Sours and welle of vnkyndenesse,
How myȝtestow in þin herte fynde
Vn-to þi kyng to be so vnkynde?—
Gynner and ground, exaumple of tresoun,
And final cause of oure destruccioun!
How myȝt[e]stow, devoide of al pite,
Be hold, allas! þoruȝ þi cruelte
Of þi kyng to shede so þe blood,
Þat euere haþ ben so gentil & so good,
So gracious lord, specialy to the!
And, ouermore, þoruȝ his hiȝe bounte
The honoured and y-magnified
Al his lyve—it may nat be denyed—
Þat liþ now ded in þe temple, allas!
Þou wer nat only traitour in þis cas,
But to his deth conspiryng & vnkynde,
Pirrus conveiyng where he shuld h[i]m finde,
To-forn Appollo myd of þis cite,
Where þou sholdest of verray duete
Raþer haue ben his protectioun,
His myȝti sheld and sauacioun—
Þat hast þis cite & þis toun y-lorn
In whiche þou were fostrid & y-born,
On þe gretest of reputacioun
Of alle þe lordis dwellyng in þis toun,
In whiche þou haddest whilom most plesaunce!

754

But al is now oute of remembraunce!
Ȝit in þin herte ȝif any drope be
Of gentilnesse, merci, or pite,
In þis dedly rage ful of tene,
Rewe on my douȝter, ȝong[e] Polycene,
From Grekis swerd hir ȝouþe for to save,
—Ȝif þin herte may eny rouþe haue,—
Of manly pite on hir maydenhede
Diffende hir now & kepe hir oute of drede,
Ȝif þou canst fynde any weye,
In any wyse þat she may nat deye,
Þat her-after, whan men sen and rede
Þe false tresoun and þe foule dede
Þat þou hast don vn-to Troye toun,
It may in parti be proteccioun
To þi fame, þe venym to allaye
Of þis tresoun;—whan men wiln assaie
By iust report þi name to accuse,
Þis dede may [þe] helpen to excuse
Ageyns tonges þat speken of Enee:
Þan wiln þei seyn, þou haddist ȝit pite
On Polycene, only of gentilnes,—
Þer-with to sugre al þe bitternesse
Of þi decert, blowe forþe by fame,
By rehersaille of þe foule blame
Þat shal of þe þoruȝ þe world be born,
With sclaunder infect whan þou art al to-torn,
Þat þou ne shalt þe shame mowe sustene!—
Þan shal my douȝter faire Polycene
Be þi defence ageyns swiche famus strif,
Ȝif it so be now þou saue hir lyf—
Of me no fors—þouȝ þou make as blive
Þe swerde of Grekis þoruȝ myn hert[e] rive.”
And so by praier of þis woful quene,
Þis Eneas toke to hym Polycene,

755

Whos traitour hert, for al his cruelte,
On hir ȝouþe was mevid of pite,
Only of rouþe þat in his brest aros,
And secrely putte hir vp in clos,
List þat Grekis founde occasioun
Ageyn[e]s hym. & Aiax Thelamoun
Toke to his warde Andronemecha,
Ectoris wyf, and wyse Cassandra
Oute of þe temple longinge to Minerue,
From Grekis swerd her lyves to conserue.
And Menelay toke þe quene Eleyne
In-to his garde, for whom so grete a peyne
Bood in his hert many day to-forn,
By whom, allas! þe cite is now lorn.
And Grekes ay were besy in her Ire
To sleen and kylle, & cruelly to fire
On euery side and to bete doun
Palais & house & walles of þe toun:
Þei spare nouȝt, for al goth to þe fire,
So feruent hate brent in her desire
Of olde envie avenged for to be,
Þat þei ne lefte with-Inne þe cite
No þing vnbrent; and also Ylyoun
Was in þis rage turned vp-so-doun.
Þer maked wern noon excepciouns,
Only outake þe possessiouns
Of Anthenor (evele mote he fare)
And Eneas, whom þe Grekis spare,
As þei to hem were bounde by her oþe.
And þus þe Grekis, furious & wroþe,
Han al þat day robbed and y-brent,
Til þat þe kyng Agamenoun haþ sent
For his lordis to assemble I-fere
In Pallas temple, only for to here
Her wyse avis vppon þinges tweyne:

756

First, ȝif þei wolde holde, & nat feyne,
Holy her feith, with-oute excepcioun,
To hem by whom þei wan first þe toun?
And, ouermore, he axed hem also,
Touching þe goodis, what þei wold[e] do
With gold, tresour, and possessioun
Þat þei haue wonne þoruȝ her hiȝe renoun?
And þei answerid, with-oute more tariyng,
Þei wolde her feith kepe in euery þing
As þei wer sworn, & her hestis holde;
And, ouer þis, þei seide [how] þei wold
Þat gold, tresour, and good of þe cite,
As riȝt requereth and also equyte,
Be iustly partid by diuisioun,
To euery wyȝt made distribucioun
Liche his merit, of hiȝe & lowe degre;
And þat þe kyng eke of resoun se
Eche to rewarde after his labour,
So as it longeth to a conquerour,
Þat no man haue mater to compleyne.
And so þei fil in spekynge of Eleyne,
Eueryche after his oppinioun;
And to-forne alle Aiax Thelamoun
Shortly seide she haþ deserued deth,
For whom so many haþ ȝolden vp þe breth,
Pleinly affermynge þer in parlament,
Of riȝtwisnesse and trewe iugement
She shulde nat eskape with þe lyf,
Þat gynnyng was & cause of al her strif,
Rote and grounde of al her sorwe & wo;
And so seide eke many a-noþer mo.
And for þe noyse and þe grete affraye,
Agamenoun nor kyng Menelay
Ne durste a worde for her parti meve
To saue þe quene, list Grekis wold hem greve,

757

Ageyn[e]s hem þer was so gret rumour.
Til Vlixes, chefly hir socour,
Þoruȝ his wit and his elloquence,
His deuer dide and his dilligence
To saue hir lyf, and fully to purchace
Of þe Grekis for to gete hir grace.
And, as Guydo also doth vs lere,
Agamenoun gan Grekis to [r]equere
To graunten hym, for a chef guerdoun,
Of Cassandra to han possessioun,
Al her lyve wiþ hym to abide.
Eke Eneas & Anthenor beside
Of Elenus to þe Grekis tolde,
How to þe werre he neuere assent[e] wolde,
And how þat he, prudent & vertuous,
In counseillyng was contrarius
To alle þo, of hiȝe and lowe estat,
In Troye first þat be-gan debate
A-twixe Grekis and þis myȝti toun;
Eke by his helpe and mediacioun
Achilles was buried and y-graue,
Þe dede cors from houndes for to saue,
Whan he was slayn in ful cruel wyse
By nyȝter tyme, as ȝe han herd deuise:
For, sothly, he and Cassandra boþe
Of þis mordre in herte were ful wroþe
And sory eke of many anoþer þing
Wrouȝt in þe toun with-oute her wytinge.
And for þei wer of malys Innocent,
Þe Grekis han fully by assent
Graunted to hem a prerogatif
By parlement for to han her lyf.
But Elenus, first in teris drowned,
To-fore þe kyng pitously haþ swowned,

758

And abraidinge, with a dedly face,
In humble wyse besouȝt him of his grace,
Of knyȝtly pite to haue his aduertence
To spare his swerde fro blood of Innocence,
And of merci þat he nat disdeyne
To graunt[e] lyf to þe sones tweyne
Of worþi Hector, his broþer moste entere,
And eke to rewe on her moder dere,
Only of grace, þat she be nat ded,—
A wido lefte, allone, and can no red,
And wot not whider þat she may diuerte.
And so þe kyng, ameved in his herte
Of his wordis and his woful chere,
Benignely graunted his praiere,
And ȝaf eke lyf & fredam for to go
To þe moder and hir childer two;
And to þe ladies & gentil-wommen alle
Þat for mercy to his grace calle,
He graunted eke of compassioun
A saufconduit and a fre pardoun,
Where þat hem list in þe toun abide,
Or in þe contre adiacent beside—
He put it hool in her eleccioun.
And, þankyng hym, þei fel on knees doun
With many tere dewed in þe face;
And so þe kyng parteth fro þe place.
And after þat, Grekis riȝt a-noon
Fully purpos to schip[pe] for to goon,
In haste to seile toward her contre.
But swiche a tempest roos vp in þe see,
Of wawe & wynde & of cloudes blake,
Al a moneth þat þei dar nat take
Þe water salt, for drede þat Neptunus
Of verray Ire, and also Eolus

759

Was vn-to hem in euery þing contrarie,
Þat on þe lond made hem longe tarie—
Þe se was ay so fel and boilynge:
Til þat Grekis of Calchas enqueringe
By on assent, what it myȝt[e] be,
Þat euere in oon so diuers was þe se
In his rage boþe at eve and morwe?—
And he answered (God ȝeve hym evele sorwe,
Þis olde shrewe, with al his prophesie,
Þat can so wel whan him list to lye!)
How þis tempest caused was at al
By þe goddes and furies infernal,
Þat neuere wolde apese nor be stille
Til þe mordre, platly, of Achille
Avenged be, & shedynge of his blood.
For whiche (he seide) Appollo was eke wood,
For his temple to hym consecrat
Was þoruȝ his deth in Troye violat:
Wherfore þer muste þoruȝ redempcioun
By blood ageyn be made satisfaccioun
Of hir þat was rote in special,
Þoruȝ hir bewte, and original,
Cause of his deth—ȝonge Polycene—
And gynnynge first of his mortal tene;
Þerfore to Appollo she mut [vp] offrid be,
By sacrifice to queme his deiete,
With deth ageyn to make recompense,
Riȝt as by deth first was thoffense:
Þis Grekis muste outterly fulfille,
Ȝif þei desire for to han at wille
Þe large se to seillen in quiete.
And Pirrus þo, in a furious hete,
Gan enquere aboute of euery man
For Polycene; but no wyȝt telle can
Of hir a word, nor, shortly, wher she was,

760

Sauf some seide how þat Eneas
And Anthenor hadde hid hir preuely,
Wher-of þer ros amonge hem sodeynly
Swiche a grucchinge of Grekis al aboute,
Of her lyf þat þei wern in doute,
So inwardly þis þing þei toke at gref.
Til Anthenor (God ȝeue him euele pref!
Þat may of tresoun as wardein ber þe keie),
To shewen oute his malis euery weie,
So longe hath souȝt, til in a chaumbre olde
He hath hir founde, and þe Grekis tolde,
And brouȝt hir forþe vn-to her presence,
By cruel force & hatful violence,
With-oute pite or compassioun,
And hir deliuered to Agamenoun.
And he, allas! by hasti Iugement,
With-oute respit or avisement,
Shortly hath dempte þat she shal be ded,
Þat was flouringe in hir maidenhed.
And for to don execusioun,
She was assigned by Agamenoun
Vn-to Pirrus; & he of tyranye
Ladde hir forþe, & fast[e] gan hym hiȝe
To þe place where she shulde deye.
Gret was þe pres, þat in al þe weye
Gan crowde & shoue to beholde & sene
Þis ȝonge maide, faire Polycene,
Þat for hir bewte & hir semlynesse,
Hir wommanhed and excellent fairnesse—
Of al y-fere whan þei token hed—
Þei hadden rouþe þat she shulde be ded,
With-oute gilt or any more trespas,—
Where men may sen vppon many face
Þe salt[e] teris faste falle doun,
Of verray pite and compassioun.

761

For man nor child was noon so harde of herte,
But he felt for hir sake smerte,
Hir goodly face whan þei beholde & se,
And fayn[e] wolde, ȝif it myȝt haue be,
Delyuered hir of verray force anoon
From Pirrus hond, but for þei wende echon
With-oute hir deth neuer to han repeir
In-to Grece, nor þe wedir fair,
As Calchas had made suggestioun
And brouȝt hem alle in oppinioun.
And at þe last, whan þis Polycene,
Of dede & wil a verray maide clene,
Was to þe graue of Achilles brouȝt,
She kneleth doun, & with an humble þouȝt
Caste vp hir eye & gan siȝen ofte,
And to þe goddes, humblely & softe,
With dredful herte and deuocioun,
Made in þis wyse hir lamentacioun.

How Cruele Pirrus, tavenge þe dethe of his fadire, dismembred yonge Pollycene, and threwe here blode abowt his fadirs grave. And of þe sorwful lamentacyon þat she made to the goddys.

Oȝe almyȝti, þat þis world gouerne,
And euery þing considren & discerne,
By whom þis world, so huge, large, & rounde,
Boþe eyr & see, heuene & eke þe grounde
At ȝoure devis with a word was wrouȝt,
And sothfastly knowen euery þouȝt,
Riȝt as it is, of euery maner wyȝt,
With-oute lettinge, so percynge is ȝoure siȝt,
Þat no þing is conseled nor y-wrye
From þe beholdyng of ȝoure eternal eye,
And euery þing may attonis se,—
Vp-on my soule hath merci and pite!

762

And of ȝoure grace & benigne cure,
Vp-on my wo and pitous auenture
Haueth som rouþe, now þat I shal dye,
My woful spirit to leden & conveye
Where as ȝow list, now þat I shal pace!
For vn-to ȝou, in þis silfe place,
I me confesse with al humylyte,
Þat heder-towarde I haue in chastite
Lad al my lyf, & kept my maydenhede
In ȝoure seruyse, boþe in þouȝt & dede,
—In port and chere, and in countenaunce,
Of forfeture of any dalyaunce,
With o mysloke I neuer ȝit a-breide,
So þat in soth I deye shal a mayde,
As ȝe wel knowe, of synne al Innocent,
Þouȝ I be now dempte by Iugement
For to be ded, with-oute gilt at al
—Witnesse of ȝou þat ben inmortal,—
Clene of entent of þat I am accused!
And ȝit, allas! I may nat be excused,
But þat þe swerd of vengaunce mote byte,
Routheles, whiche am no þing to wyte,
But stonde clere & pure of al offence,
And dischargid in my conscience,
I dar afferme, and fully gilt[e]les
Touchinge þe mordre of worþi Achilles,
Whiche slowe my broþer, & after loued me,
And is now cause of myn aduersite:
And ȝit, in wil, dede, word, nor þouȝt,
Vn-to his deth assentid was riȝt nouȝt,
But þer-of was riȝt sory in myn herte,
Al-be þat I may nat now asterte
For to be ded, only for his sake.
On me allone vengaunce shal be take,

763

With-oute merci, in ful cruel wyse
With my blood to make sacrifice
To þe goddis, her wrathe for to queme!
O peple blinde! in soth amys ȝe deme,
Ageyn[e]s me ȝoure herte is to cruel,
To merciles, to Irous, and to fel,
With-oute rouþe, to mykel indurat,
To sleen a maide, allone disolat!
Oute of ȝoure herte, allas, pite is gon!
Harder, in trouþe, þan ouþer stok or stoon,
And more cruel in ȝoure oppinioun,
For lak of pite, þan tigre or lyoun.
Certis, ȝe ben gretly for to blame,
And ouȝte her-of for to haue gret shame
To assent to so foule a dede,
To slen a maide, quakyng in her drede,
And graunte hir noon oportunyte
For to be-wepe hir virginite:
Þat of þis cruel and [þis] pitous wreche
My blood ȝoure gilt her-after shal apeche,
And accuse also ȝoure grete envie
To þe goddes, þat shal iustefie
Euery vnriȝt, boþe of hiȝe and lowe,
Ful egally, and make to be knowe
Þe trouþe plein, & spare no degre,
But maken open þat is nowe secre.
I seie nat þis, nor my silfe compleyne
To haue redres of my fatal peyne,
For deth is now more welcom [vn-]to me
Þan is my lyf, and more I-take at gre,
Siþen my breþere, most worþi of renoun,
Be slay[e]n alle and buried in þis toun:
My fader ded in his vnweldy age,
And I allone lefte in al þis rage,
And haue abide pitously to se
Fynal ruyne now of þis cite,

764

Whiche at myn herte sitteþ now so sore,
Þat leuere I haue þanne to wepe more
Deye attonis in reles of my wo,
Siþ al my kyn is passed & a-go,—
Lenger to lyve were to me a deth.
For bet is here to ȝelden vp þe breth
Þan to be ladde oute of þis cite,
Amonge straungeris to live in pouerte!
O deth, welcome! & no lenger lette
Þi dredful dart to filen and to whette,
My tendre hert þer-wiþ-al to ryve;
Ageyn þi myȝt I shal neuer striue.
Now is tyme to kyþe þi power
On me þat am of wil & herte entere
A clene maide, so as I be-gan,
With-oute touche of eny maner man
In al my lyf to þis same day—
Þis lite avaunte make ȝit I may,
In myn ende, to [þe] goddes alle,
After whos helpe now I clepe & calle.
And to her merci mekely I commende
My woful spirit, & praie hem þat þei sende
To euery maide better happe and grace
Þan I haue now, and a lenger space
In hertly Ioie and honour to contvne,
With-oute assaut of any infortwne
To lede her lyf in prosperite!
And alle maidenes, remembreþ vp-on me
To take exaumple how ȝe shal ȝow kepe,
And þat ȝe wolde a fewe teris wepe
Whan þat ȝe þinke vppon Polycene,
Þat was of age and of ȝeris grene
Whan she was slayn by cruel auenture.
And to þe goddes, for to han in cure,
My dredful goost hooly I betake,
Eternally; and þus an ende I make.”
And with þat word hir hed she gan enclyne
Ful humblely, whan she shulde fyne,

765

And of hir eyen helde þe lydes down.
And Pirrus þanne, woder þan lyoun,
Dismembrid haþ with his sharpe swerde
Þis maide ȝonge, dredful & a-ferd;
And, ouermore, his cruelte to shewe,
On pecis smale he haþ hir al to-hewe
End[e]long his fadris sepulture.
Allas! how myȝt his cruel herte endure,
Merciles to done so foule a dede!
I am astonid, sothly, whan I rede,
After hir deth, how it dide hym good,
Like a tiraunte to cast abrood hir blood,
Or a tigre, þat can no routhe haue,
Rounde enviroun aboute his fadris graue
He spreint of hate and of cruelte.
O þou Pirrus! þou maist [ful] wel [y-]be
Achilles sone by lyneal discent;
For like to hym of herte & of entent
Þou wer, in soth, deuoide of al pite,
And wers þan he ȝit in o degre:
For of þi fader in al his lyvynge
Ne redde I neuere ȝit so foule a þing
—Þouȝ I wold of hatrede hym abraide—
For no rancour þat euere he slow a maide!
I fynd[e] wel þat he hadde his part
Whilom in loue of Cupides dart,
Þat made hym sore in his lyue smerte,
Whan þat he was wounded to þe hert
With þe castyng only of an eye,
Wenynge þer-by wistly for to deye—
He myȝt[e] nat þe sodeyn stroke eskape;
And afterward, as his fate hath shape,
He mordrid was for loue of Polycene,
Whom þou hast sleyn in þi cruel tene,
Furiously, with-oute routhe or shame:
For whiche þing þe foule hatful fame

766

Þoruȝ al þe world her-after shal be sprad,
Whan þis story rehersid is and rad;
Þan shal be seide, how Pirrus rouþeles
Slowe in his Ire a maide gilt[e]les,
And warie shal þi name most odible
For þis dede passingly horrible,
For loue only of faire Polycene.
Þe deth of whom whan Eccuba þe quene
Hath seyn, allas! as she be-side stood,
For verray wo gan to wexe wood,
And for sorwe oute of hir wit she went,
And hir cloþes & hir heer she rent
Al in [a] rage, and wot nat what she doth,
But gan anoon with hondis & with toþe
In her furie cracchen and eke byte,
Stonys caste, and with fistes smyte
Whom she mette; til Grekis made her binde,
And sent hir forþe, also, as I fynde,
In-to an Ile to Troye pertenent,
Wher she was slayn only by Iugement
Of þe Grekis, and stonyd to þe deth.
And whan she had ȝolden vp þe breth,
Þis woful quene, by cruel auenture,
Þe Grekis dide make a sepulture
Coriously of metal and of stoon,
And toke þe cors and buried it anoon
With gret honour and solempnite,
Þat longe after men þer myȝt[e] se
Þe riche toumbe, costful and royal,
Þere set and made for a memorial
Of Eccuba, whilom of gret[e] fame;
And after ȝaf to þat place a name,
And called it, to be long in mynde,
Locus infestus, in Guydo as I fynde.
And þus þe quene, only for sorwe wood,

767

Whan hir douȝter had[de] shad hir blood,
Of Grekis stonyd dide hir ende make,
As ȝe han herde, pleinly, for þe sake
Of Polycene, whilom by Calchas
Vn-to Appollo falsly offrid was,
By Pirrus swerd Achilles avengynge,
To make þe se calm & blawndisshinge,
Þat þe goddes take no vengaunce
Vp-on Grekis. Þat an evele chaunce
Come [to] þeis false goddes euerychoon!
And her statues of stokkes & of stoon,
In whiche þe serpent & þe olde snake,
Sathan hym silf, gan his dwellinge make;
And fraudently folkes to illude,
Ful sotilly kan hym silfe include
In ymagis, for to make his hold,
Þat forged bene of siluer & of gold,—
Þat by errour of false illusioun,
He hath y-brouȝt to confusioun,
Þoruȝ myscreaunce, þe worþi kynde of man,
Siþen tyme þat aldirfirst be-gan
Þe false honour of ydolatrie
And þe worship [vn-]to mawmetrie,
By sacrifice of bestis and of blood,
Tapesen hem whan þat þei are wood,
And to queme, boþe at eve and morwe.
I praie to God, ȝeue hem alle sorwe,
Wher-so þei ben, with-Inne or with-oute!
I noon excepte of þe false route,—
Satorn nor Mars, Pallas nor Iuno,
Iubiter, Mercurius, nor Pluto,
Nouþer Flora, þat doth þe floures sprede,

768

Nouþer Bachus, with grapis whyte & rede,
Nor Cupido, with his eyen blinde,
Nouþer Daphne, closed vnder rinde,
Þoruȝ Tellus myȝt, of þe laurer tre,
Nor þou Diane, with þi chastite,
Miȝti Venus, nor Cytherea,
With þi dartis, nor Proserpyna,
Þat lady art depe doun in helle,
Nor Belides þat draweþ at þe welle,
Ixyoun, nor þou Ȝeȝiphus,
Nor with þin appil, þou cruel Tantalus,
Nor þe furies þat bene infernal,
Nor ȝe þat spynne þe lives þrede fatal
Vp-on þe rokke of euery maner man,
Nor þe mvses þat so singen can
Atwen þe coppis of Nysus & Cirra,
Vp-on þe hil be-side Cirrea,
Nor þe, Cibeles, nor Ceres with þi corn,
Nor Eolus, of whom þe dredful horn
Is herde so fer, whan þou list to blowe,
Nor Ianus Bifrons, with bak corbed lowe,
Nor Priapis, nor Genyvs þe prest,
Þat curseth ay, with candel in his fist,
Hem þo echon þat froward be to Kynde,
Nor Imenevs, whos power is to bynde
Hertis þat ben coniunct in mariage,
Til þe goddesse of discorde and rage
Disceuereth hem by diuisioun,
Nouþer Manes, þat han her mansioun
Mid þe erþe in derknesse and in wo,
Nor þeis elves, þat are wont to go
In vndermeles, whan Phebus is most shene,
Nouþer fauni, in tender grevis grene,
Water-nymphes, nor þis nay[a]des,

769

Satiry, nouþer driades,
Þat goddesse bene of wode & wildernes,
Nor oþer goddes,—nouþer more ne lesse,—
As Morpheus þat is [þe] god of slepe,—
I holde hym wood þat takeþ any kepe
To done to hem any obseruaunce:
He may nat faille for to haue meschaunce
At þe ende, pleinly, for his mede!
For al swiche feined falsnes, oute of drede,
Roos of þe deuel, and first by his engyn,
And of his sleiȝti treynes serpentyn,
Only mankynde whane he made loute
To false ydoles; þe whiche, oute of doute,
Are but deuelis, Dauid bereþ witnesse
In þe Sauter, where he writ expresse,
And confermeth þer as he endites,
How þe goddes of paganysme rytes,
On & alle—he excepteth noon—
Be made of gold, of siluer, and of stoon,
Forged of bras, of metal and of tre,
And eyen han, and ȝit þei maye nat se,—
And alle are fendes, so as Dauid seith.
Þat who in hem haueth any feith,
Hope, credence, or in hem delite,
It is no drede, þat þei wil hym quyte
With swiche guerdoun as þe soule sleth
Perpetuelly, so þat þe fyn is deth
Of her seruise, whan men hen[ne]s passe,
And in her lyf vnhap and evele grace,
Meschef and wo, and confusioun,
As men may sene example be þis toun,
Þat wende wel assured for ta be,
And to haue stonde in longe prosperite
Ageyn her fon þoruȝ helpe of Appollo,
Of Venus eke, and favour of Iuno,
Þoruȝ Pallas myȝt, Diane and Minerue,

770

Whom þei wer wont to honour & to serue
With Cerymonyes & with sacrifise,
As ȝe to-forn han herde me deuise,
Þat hem han brouȝt now vn-to ruyne,
By cruel deth maked hem to fyne.
Here may ȝe sen how þe venym bites,
At þe ende, of swiche olde rytes,
By evidence of þis noble toun.
What may availle now Palladioun?
What may now helpe her frauded fantasie
Of al her olde false ydolatrie?
Allas, [allas!] þei bouȝt it al to sore.
Now fare wel Troye, farwel for euere-more!
Farwel, allas! to cruel was þi fal!
Of þe no more now I write shal.
For þi sake, in soþe, whan I take hede,
Of inward wo myn herte I fele blede;
And whan þat I remembre in my þouȝt,
By ruyne how þou art brouȝt to nouȝt,
Þat whilom were so noble & so riche,
Þat in þis world I trowe noon was liche
Nor perigal, to speken of fairnesse,
To speke of knyȝthod and of worþinesse,
As clerkis seien þat þi bildyng knewe,
Þat al þe world ouȝt[e] for to rewe
On þi pitous waste walles wylde,
Whilom so rial whan men gan to bilde
Þin touris hiȝe, & kyng Priamus
Þe first be-gan, most riche & glorious,
And sette his se in noble Ylyoun.
O, who can write a lamentacioun
Conuenient, o Troye, for þi sake!
Or who can now wepe or sorwe make,
Þi gret[e] meschef to compleyne & crie?

771

Certis, I trowe nat olde Ieremye,
Þat so be-wepte þe captiuite
Of þilke noble rial chefe cite
Ierusalem, and his destruccioun,
With al þe hole transmygracioun
Of þe Iewes; nor þou Eȝechiel,
Þat were þat tyme þat þe meschef fel
Vn-to þe kyng y-called Sedechie,
In Ba[b]ilon, & for þi prophesie
With stonys were cruelly y-slawe;
Nor he þat was departed with a sawe,—
Ȝe boþe two, þat koude so compleyne,—
Nor Danyel þat felt so gret[e] peyne
For þe kynges transmutacioun
In-to a beste, til þoruȝ þe orisoun
Of Daniel he restored was
To mynde ageyn, & ete no more no gras:—
Ȝet verrailly, þouȝ ȝe alle þre
With ȝoure weping had alive be
And present eke at þe destruccioun
Of þis noble worþi royal toun,
To haue beweiled þe meschef & þe wo,
And þe slauȝter at þe sege do
On ouþer party in ful cruel wyse,—
Alle ȝoure teris myȝt[e] nat suffise
To haue be-wepte her sorwes euerychon,
Be tresoun wrouȝt, as wel as be her foon!
Here-of no more; for it may nat availle.
But like as he þat gynneth for to saille
Ageyn þe wynde, whan þe mast doþ rive,
Riȝt so it were but in veyn to strive
Ageyn þe fate, bitterer þanne galle,
By hiȝe vengaunce vp-on Troye falle,
Nor to presvme her furies, sharpe whette,
Ceriously in þis boke to sette:
So gret a þing I dar nat vndirtake,

772

But evene here a pitous ende I make
Of þe sege, after my symplesse;
And þouȝ my stile, blottid with rudenes,
As of metre, be rusty and vnfiled,
Þis ferþe boke, þat I haue compiled
With humble hond, of fer þat doth me quake,
Vn-to ȝoure grace holy I betake,
Of ȝoure merci no þing in dispeir,
So as I can, makyng my repeir
To þe Grekis, & no lenger dwelle,
Her aventures of þe se to telle,
In þer resort home to her contre;
And how [þat] þei þere received be,—
Only of support, so ȝe not dispise,—
Þe fi[f]the boke shortly shal deuise.
[Explicit liber Quartus Incipit liber quintus & vltimus]

773

BOOK V. Her bigynneth þe fifft boke, & þe laste, of Troye.

Whan Eolus, which doþ þe windes rore,
Apesid was, þat he blewe no more,
—Which is of stormys gouernour & lord—
And was also fully of accord
Wiþ myȝti Iuno, lady of þe eyr,
To make þe skye and þe wedir fair,
Þat cloude noon in heuene dide appere,
And Neptunus, blaundisshing of chere,
Was of assent, þe stori seith forsoþe,
To make þe se fro tempest calm & smoþe,
With-oute boilyng or trouble of [any] wawe,—
Þe myȝti Grekis to shipward gan hem drawe
For to repeire home to her contre,
After þei had wonnen þe cite,
Put her fomen fully at þe worse.
But Fortune, ay froward and peruerse,
Hath with her myrthe meynt aduersite:
For whan þei wende ful assurid be,
And haue stonde stedefast in quiete,
Þis blinde lady falsly made flete
In-to her sugre galle of discordance,
Amonge hem silf to bring in variaunce,
And her hertis, of rancour & of pride,
Contagiously to seueryn & deuyde,
Whan þei sat hiest in her glorie,
With þe palme of conquest & victorie,
Fully reioyssinge, þoruȝ her hiȝe renoun,
Þe crowne of laurer in possessioun,

774

And had also at her lust al wonne,—
Whan briȝtest shon þe lusti freshe sonne
From Est to west of her worþines,
A cloudy sky vnwarly with dirknesse
Eclipsed hath a parti of her liȝt,
And diffacid þe holsom bemys briȝt
Of her welfare and prosperite,
By þenvious fals contagiouste
Of þe serpent, pompos and elat,
Amonge hem silfe to make hem at debat,
Inducinge in rancour and discord:
For or þei entre with-Inne shippes bord,
Ageyn Vlixes worþi Thelamoun,
In presence of kyng Agamenoun,
Purposed hath, pleinly, his matere
To-fore Grekis, a-noon as ȝe shal here.

How Thelamon, in presence of Kyng Agamenon, vttred his grugge agayn Kyng Vlixes.

“Sirs,” quod he, “so it ȝow nat greue,
Me semeþ iustly of resoun I may meve,
Touching þe wynnyng & geting of þis toun,
With gold, richesse, and possessioun,
Fully deliuered and taken to oure hond,
With al þe tresour founden in þe lond,—
Þe whiche, me þinkeþ in myn inward siȝt,
Ne hath nat bene departed halfe a-riȝt
Amonges vs, by iust diuisioun,
Nor be egal distribusioun—
Considred first, by title of equite,
Of euery wyȝt þestat and dignite,
Remembrid eke, in þis sharp[e] shour,
Þe worþines, [þe] merite, & labour,
And decertis in þis mortal strif,
Graunting to eueryche his prerogatif
Lik fortune as he hath disseruyd.

775

But þis ordre hath nat ben obserued,
Amonges vs, with-oute excepcioun,
In delyuerance of Palladioun,
Whiche Vlixes, I seie with-oute drede,
To-fore ȝou alle vniustly doth possede,
On hym vsurpinge by fals oppinioun,
By meritorie retribucioun
And apparence his title for to gronde,
Vnder pretense of colour, falsly founde,
Þat he þis relik reioisshe shulde of riȝt,
Be sleiȝte wonne raþer þan of myȝt,
And vsurpeth, be maner of avaunt,
As it were ȝoue to hym by graunt
Of ȝou echon for a chef guerdoun.
But I wil make a replicacioun,
Þat þis relik is nat to hym mete,
Whiche he shal nat reioisshe in quiete,
Ȝif þat I may disturben hym or lette:
For I it cleyme duely of dette
As for guerdoun to me conuenient;
So þat ȝe list to bene indifferent,
Of resoun only, as it doth ȝou seme,
Atwen vs two egally to deme,
Iustly, first, with euery circumstaunce,
Oure ouþer merit weied in ballaunce,
First considered—ȝif it may availle—
Mi dilligence & my gret travaille
Þat I endured forþe fro day to day
Al þe while þat þe sege lay,
Þat ȝe shulde of plente of vitaille
On no side for no meschef faille.
And ȝif I shal, with-oute avaunt, oute breke,
As of knyȝthod and armys for to speke:
In þe feld by longe contynuaunce
Of manly force and perseueraunce,
Vp-on oure foon, þat wer so fel & kene,
Day by day I was armyd clene—

776

It nedeth nat to make mencioun,
With my riȝt hond how I slowe Philemoun,
As ȝe wel know, which had in his keping
Þe ȝong[e] sone of Priamus þe kyng,
Freshe and lusti, and of gret fairnesse,
And with hym had infinit richesse,
Of tresour, gold passingly plente,
And euerydel was brouȝt to ȝou by me,
Ȝif ȝe remembre & list take hede,
Þat ȝe were quyte of indigence & nede
By occasioun of þat gret[e] good.
And þoruȝ my manhod shad I nat þe blood,
Merciles, in ful cruel wyse,
For ȝoure sake of þe kyng of Fryse,
And þe tresour in his cofres souȝt,
And al y-fere to þe sege y-brouȝt?
And be my knyȝthod, sith[en] go ful ȝore,
Haue I nat eke awmentid & made more
Þe Grekis lond with possessiouns,
By conquest only of two regiouns,
Þoruȝ my prudence & my labour wonne,
Siþen þat ȝe þe sege first begonne,
With provinces to Troye adiacent?—
To ȝoure encres I was so dillygent!
And with Achilles, þe worþi werrioure,
Ȝe bene expert ful wel of my labour,
Þat we wrouȝt to ȝoure avauntage!
And siþen ȝe so prudent ben & sage,
Nat forȝetil, but fully remembring,
It nedeth nat rehersen euery þing.
And to dispreve, manly as a knyȝt,
His title and cleime þat he hath no riȝt,
—Þe doom committyng to ȝoure oppiniouns—
Be rehersaille of his condic[i]ouns:
He nouþer haþ manhod nor prowes,

777

Force, knyȝthod, nouþer hardines,
And, at a point for to haue rewarde,
In doring do preved a coward!
Experience hath shewed ȝow, in dede,
How þat he is, whan it commeth to nede,
But word & wynd & sleiȝti compassyng,
And on falshede euere ymagynyng:
For neuere ȝit to þis day was preved,
Þat eny þing was by hym acheved
Whiche myȝt be entitled to his laude,
But þe ende medlid were with fraude.
For vnder colour he can curen al,
Pretende fair, liche a peinted wal,
Diuers hewed, þat nouþer hiȝe nor low,
Þer may no man his pleyn[e] menyng know!
And with swiche sleiȝt compassid be tresoun,
Oute of Troye he gat Palladyoun,
Whiche is gret shame & sklaunder to us alle:
For of oure conquest it is þus be-falle,
More of tresoun we haue þe cite wonne
Þanne of knyȝthod, [as] men report[e] kone.
And crop & rote, ȝif I reherse shal,
Vlixes here is grounde & cause of al,
And gynnynge first of þis vnhappi fame
Þat reboundeth to oure alder shame!
And siþ þe trouþe is platly knowe & wist,
Mi tale is ended,—demeth as ȝou list.”

How Kyng Vlixes vnderstode the maleys of Thelamon, and of þe great stryff, and [how] Aiax was slayn.

Vlixes þanne, in his aduertence
Conceived hath þe grete inpacience
Of Thelamoun, and þe grete envie,
Þe fervent rancour & malencolie,

778

For-bar hym first, be ful gret avis,
As he þat was ful prudent & ful wys,
And þouȝt he wolde make þer-of no Iape,
By no word for haste þat shuld eskape,
Nouþer by noon vnbridled contenaunce
Outward conceived in his dalyaunce,
And abraiding, wiþ a stable face,
“Sirs,” quod he, “so I may haue grace,
Vnder support of ȝoure hiȝe presence,
Þat my tale may haue audience,
I nouþer am in doute nor in drede,
Of equite þat I shal possede
Palladioun duringe my lives day,
Maugre þe myȝt of who[-so] þat seie nay.
For ȝif ȝe list of resoun for to se,
At þe sege leide first to þis cite
I haue my silfe in double wyse aquit,
As wel by knyȝthod, sothly, as by wit,
And þoruȝ my counseil & my besy cure
Ben oft cause of her discounfeture,
Ay dilligent to ȝoure avauntage,
Wrouȝt & compassid [vn-]to her damage,
Þat to þis day, in soth, ne hadde I be,
Þei had floured in her felicite,
In her force contuned and welfare.
And ȝif þat I þe trouþe shal nat spare,
Ȝif it be dempt & loked of resoun,
I was most cause of her confusioun,
Who-so-euere ageyn[e]s it replie!
How ofte went I on embassatrie,
With importable costis & dispense,
Þe trete ay concludinge in sentence
To þe forþering of ȝoure entencioun,
And disencrese & hindringe of þe toun!
And whan I sawe oþer mene noon,
In myn avis and wittis euerychon,
By oure force þe cite for to wynne

779

While þei hadde þe relik hem with-Inne,
Þer-vp-on so sotilly y wrouȝt,
Þat vn-to ȝow Palladyoun I brouȝt,—
Whiche Thelamoun, þat of malis stryveth,
Of olde hatrede vn-to my gilt ascriveþ
Hooly þis þing þat I haue for ȝow wrouȝt.
But ȝe, þat ben so prudent in ȝoure þouȝt,
Aduerteth wisly and an ende maketh,
And in ȝoure hond þis quarel fully takeþ,
Palladyoun iustly to prouyde,
And al favour late be leide a-side
Sith al þis þing ȝe platly vnderstonde,
And lete vs boþe to ȝoure demynge stonde
By oon assent, how-so þe mater wende—
Lo, here is al—my tale is at an ende.”
Þanne Thelamoun, in Ire ful feruent,
Of [inward] hate made inpacient,
And of envie inwardly amevid,
Vlixes hath [de]spitously reprevid,
Only of malis and of hiȝe disdeyn;
And Vlixes rebukyng him ageyn
Ful bitterly, with-oute abood anoon,—
And so þei tweyne made ful mortal foon
In þe presence of Agamenoun.
But furiously Aiax Thelamoun,
Of malencolie pale & no þing red,
Þratte Vlixes þat he shal be ded
Of his hondis—he shuld it nat eschewe!
And Grekes þo, al rancour to remewe,
Þis quarel putte in arbitracioun
Of Menelay and Agamenoun,
Þat caused after a ful mortal strif:
For, be sentence anoon diffinitif,
Þei putte Vlixes in possessioun
Perpetuelly of Palladyoun,
With hym confermyng to abide stable.
And cause why þei were favourable

780

To Vlixes, lyche as Guydo writ,
Was for þat he so goodly hath him quit
Vn-to Eleyne at getyng of þe toun,
Beynge in cause of hir saluacioun,
Dispeired and of hir lyf in drede,
Grekis willinge to haue had hir dede.
But þoruȝ his prudent mediacioun,
Maugre þe myȝt of þis Thelamoun,
He hath þe quene fro [þe] deth preservid,
Al-be þat she hadde it wel deseruyd,
As Grekis seide in þeir oppinioun.
And þus diffrauded of Palladyoun,
As ȝe haue herde, was þis worþi knyȝt,
For al his manhod & his grete myȝt;
Wher-þoruȝ þer gan in his hert[e] brede
Passinge envie & ful gret hatrede,
And þouȝt he wolde avengid be som day
Vp-on Vlixes and on Menelay,
And eke also vp-on Agamenoun;
And oute he brak like a wode lyoun,
With his knyȝtes aboute him þat wer stronge,
And seide, pleinly, of þis grete wronge,
For to be ded, he wolde avenged be,
And specially on þis ilke þre.
And þer-with-al, furious and wroth,
Tornynge his bak oute anon he goth,
In herte fret with ful mortal tene,
With many Greke his quarel to sustene,
Þat in herte sore gan disdeyne
Ageyn Vlixes and þe toþer tweyne.
But þei ful war, what-so-euere falle,
Her knyȝtes made aboute hem for to calle,
And with gret stuf, wher þei wake or slepe,
To waite on hem & manly for to kepe
With ful good wache enviroun al þe cloos.
But ful erly or þe sonne aroos,

781

Þis worþi Aiax in his bed vp-riȝt
I-mordrid was, þe silue same nyȝt,
And al be-bled in þe morwe founde,
On pecis hewe with many mortal wounde,—
Þat for þis þing, cruel and horrible,
To God & man lothsom & odyble,
Ful many Greke þat woful morwe wep
To sen a knyȝt so mordrid in his slep,
Þat þe cri and þe noise ran
Þoruȝ-oute þe hoste anon fro man to man.
And for constreint of þis foule dede,
Eueryche of hem felt his herte blede,
Ful desirous to make an ordinaunce
On þis mordre for to do vengaunce,
Havinge þer-of gret suspecioun
To Menelay and Agamenoun,
But to Vlixes moste in special,
By comoun vois to him arettinge al,—
Þe foule fame he myȝt[e] nat asterte.
But Pirrus moste toke þis þing at herte,
Makynge a vowe, furious and wood,
To be vengid, pleynly, on þe blood
Of Thelamoun, vp-on Vlixes hed,
Hym manascinge þat he shal be ded,
So sore on hym freting was þe sorwe.
But Vlixes erly on a morwe,
For drede of Pirrus taken hath þe se,
And with his shippes fast[e] gan to fle.
But or he went, platly, as I rede,
Palladyoun he toke to Dyomede,
Hauynge in herte a ful gret remors.
And Pirrus þanne taken hath þe cors
Of Thelamoun, for loue in special,
And dide make a flawme funeral,
Large & gret, of colis hoot & rede;
And amyddes þe feruent firy glede,
Ful many Greke stondynge to biholde,

782

He let hit brenne in-to asshes colde.
And, in þe story after as Is tolde,
He closed hem in an vrne of golde
Ful reuerently, & after hath it shet;
And þer-vp-on he hath þe prent [y-]set
Of his armys, coriously y-graue,
From al meschef þe asshes for to saue,
And sent hem home by gret affeccioun
To be conserued in þe regioun
Where he was kyng while he was a-lyue;
And euery þing was parformed blive,
After þe rytes in þo daies vsid.
And euere in oon Pirrus hath y-mvsid
Vp-on þe mordre traitourly y-wrouȝt,
And caste it shulde be ful dere abouȝt,
Þe pitous deth of þis Thelamoun,
Hauynge ay herte to Agamenoun,
And hadde eke suspect olde Menelay,—
Þat in a-wait eche for oþer lay,
Makynge hem silfe with her knyȝtes strong,
To trien oute who hath riȝt or wrong:
For Pirrus nolde lete it liȝtly goon.
And þus þei wern maked mortal foon,
Þis ilke þre, platly, to þe deth,
Þoruȝ false envie whiche her hertes sleth.
And while þei wern among hem silfe vntrewe,
Strif vp-on strif gan euery day renewe,
And debatis for to mvltiplie,
Til Anthenor gan þis þing espie,
And, by his wisdam, to stinten al disdeyn
Hem recounciled vn-to pes ageyn,
And caused hem to accorde in al,
And after made a feste ful royal,
Beseching hem ful lowly, alle þre,
To graunten hym þer-at for to be,
Of gentilnesse, þat Grekis myȝt echon

783

Outward conceive þat þei were al oon.
And to þis feste he manly made calle,
As writ Guydo, þe worþi Grekis alle—
Of hiȝe nor lowe was noon excepcioun.
But ȝif I shulde make descripcioun,
How þe lordes and estates sete,
Of sondry coursis, & þe ȝiftes grete
Þat Anthenor ȝaf on euery side,
It were to longe to ȝou for to abide,
Þer was of plente so gret suffisaunce.
And, I finde, þei fil in daliaunce,
Sittinge at mete, to speken of Enee,
Brouȝte In of hate & of enmyte,
And of disdeyn, shortly in sentence,—
Þei putte on him many grete offence,
And specially, in her hasti tene,
Whilom how he conceiled Policene,
And by his sleiȝte made hir be withdraw,
Which was in cause Achilles was slawe—
Shortly concluding, by oon oppinioun,
His final exile oute of Troie toun,
Not-with-stondinge þe graunt & liberte
Ȝoven to hym tabide in þe cyte,
Al-so longe as hym list deuise.
But Grekis han annullid his fraunchise,
Fro þe lowest vp on-to þe meste,
Þat wern present at þis hiȝe feste;
But dout[e]les I can nat wel espie
By whom was wrouȝt þis conspiracie,
In Troie boke I finde can no more,
Saue þat hym silfe witte it Anthenor—
I-liche false boþe in o degre,
As ȝe haue herd, betraisshinge þe cite,
Liche as þei hadde spronge out of o rote!
And whan he knewe þer was noon oþer bote,
Þis Eneas his dome to modifie,

784

He preied hem of her curtesie,
At þe lest for to graunte him grace
Foure monþes, þat he myȝt haue space
To make his stuf & his apparaille,
And hym silf to purueie of vitaille,—
Eke to graunte hym þat þei wold assent
Þilke shippes þat with Paris went
To Cytheroun, vn-to þat temple olde,
Þat wern in noumbre two & twenti tolde.
And with ful graunt of his peticioun,
He is retourned home to Troye toun,
Triste and heuy to sen & beholde
Þe waste cite with his wallis olde,
And for sorwe felt his herte blede,
With-Inne hym silfe whanne he takeþ hede
And remembrid in his aduertence
Þe false tresoun and þe grete offence
By hym compassid to þe toun a-forn,
And how þat he so sodeinly hath lorn
Þe grace of Grekes, & stood discounsolat,
Þat whilom was of so gret estate,
Now in his herte fully dissepeired,
Þat he vnwarly was so euele appaired
Vn-to Grekis behinden at his bak,
Beinge vngilti and with-outen lak;
And be whom he koude nat wel deme,
Saue be signes, as it dide seme,
Þat Anthenor was most for to wyte,
And caste pleinly þat he wolde hym quyte.

Howe Eneas, beyng still in Troy, councelled the Troyans to sende for A[n]thenor, and to make hym their kyng.

And þoruȝ þe toun he made sende blive
For þilke fewe þat were lefte a-lyve,

785

Comynge anoon at his commaundement;
And whan þei wern euerychon present:
“Sirs,” quod he, “ȝe sen how þat Fortune
Towardis me gynneth discontune,
Ay vnstable with hir eyen blynde,
As ȝe expert in ȝoure silfe now fynde,
Whilom froward, now turned in-to werse,
Þat of clerkis called is aduerse,
Whan hir list hir cruelte to shewe.
Now it stant so: ȝe be her but a fewe,
And I mvt parte, and ȝe stille abide;
But it so be þat ȝe wil prouide,
Stondynge allone deuoide of al socour,
Amonge ȝour silf to make a gouernour,
I can nat se but ȝe shal be acloied
On euery parte, & finally distroied,
A[s] sely shepe, þat ne can no rede,
Al disparpiled, whiche stond in grete drede.
Wherfore, best is, in þis dredful þing,
By oon assent to chese ȝow a kyng;
And most able þestat to occupie,
From al assaut manly ȝow to guye
Is Anthenor, of knyȝthod & renoun,—
Ȝif it accorde with ȝoure oppinioun.
Wherfore in haste, vn-to þis entent,
With-oute abood late hym fore be sent;
And, at his comynge, pleinly, in-to towne,
Vp-on his hed lat be set a crowne,
Grauntynge to hym scepter and regally,
By his wysdam þat he may ȝou guy
From al assaūt of any perturbaunce,
By his knyȝthod and prudent gouernaunce.”
And þei assent, makynge no delay;
Þer was neuer oon þat likeþ to seie nay,
But wer riȝt glad in al manere þinge,

786

As ȝe han herde, for to make him kyng.
But þei ful litel, sothly, in her sonde,
Of Eneas þe menynge vndirstonde,
For he ne ment but tresoun & falsehede,
How at his ent[e]ringe he shal be dede—
Ful traitourly in a-wait liggynge
To slen hym falsly at his [in-]comynge.
But Anthenor, of al þis no þing war,
Disarmyd cam & no wepne bar;
And Eneas with an huge route
With swerdis drawe set hym rounde aboute,
Til þei of Troie, boþe ȝonge & olde,
Ran a-twen & manly hym with-holde,
And on her knees fil[le] mekely doun,
Besechinge hym to haue compassioun,
Of worþines & also of manhede,
Liche as a knyȝt for to taken hede
How þei were lefte but of peple bare,
Besechinge him his dredful swerd to spare,
And his rancour & his Ire leve,
List þe slauȝter wolde hem alle greve,
And on þe comoun þei besouȝt him rewe.
Quod Eneas, “is he nat vntrewe?
Is he nat double, traitour, & eke fals,
Worþi to bene honged by þe hals,
Of al deceit & of fraude welle,
Amonge no comoun worþi for to dwelle?
Hath he nat be chef occasioun
Of ȝoure vndoynge & destruccioun?
And of newe, þis serpent which her goth,
Vndisservid made þe Grekis wroth
Ageyn[e]s me, by false collusioun,
And myn exile conspired fro þe toun,
Whiche may nat be repellid nor withdrawe!
But with my swerd first he shal be slawe,
Þat his falshede may finally be dauntid,

787

Riȝt as he haþ me traitourly supplauntid,
Þe Grekis mevyng, fer oute of þis Ile,
By his engyn me, pleinly, to exile,
Where-as I caste, ȝif it myȝt haue be,
Boþe in Ioie and in aduersite
To haue had my part, what[-so] had[de] falle,
Duringe my lyf, her amonge ȝou alle.
But he, þoruȝ whom al is wronge & kourbid,
Of my desire hath þe fyn perturbid,
Whiche in myn herte abideþ alwey grene.
Was he nat cause eke þat Pollicene
I-slawe was at Achilles graue?—
And for al þis, ȝit ȝe wolde hym save!
But outterly þer shal no mene geyne,
Who-so-euere þer ageyn[e]s pleyne,
Þat he, whos hert al tresoun haþ compiled,
Perpetuelly shal now ben exiled
Oute of þis toun—þer shal hit no man lette!”
And by assent þei his tyme sette,
Whiche he shold for no raunsom passe:
Þis was þe fyn, he get noon oþer grace.
Þus boþe fals, as broþer like to broþer,
Eueryche of hem haþ exiled oþer,
Traitours boþe to Troye þe cite,
Þis Anthenor & with hym eke Enee.
But Anthenor gan hym redy make,
And in al haste hath þe see y-take
With many Troian in gret apparaille.
Þe wynde was good, & he gan to saille
By many cost & many sondry yles—
It nedeth nat rehersen alle þe myles,
Nor þe perelles, pleinly, whiche þat he
At gret meschef eskaped in þe se,—
I haue no Ioie þer-vppon to dwelle,
His auentures by & by to telle.
But, shortly, he in a litel while
Arived vp at a noble Ile

788

Þat whilom was Corbodya y-called,
Where he bilt a cite strongly walled,
As writ Guydo, large, wide, & longe,
Vp-on a roche, which passingly [was] stronge,
Whiche had enviroun, as myn auctour tellis,
Wodis, rivers, and many lusty welles,
And had plente of al maner þing.
And Thetides called was þe kyng
Þat helde in pes his scepter & his crowne,
On whom Fortune list nat for to frowne,
But fauourable fully to his wille,
Conseruynge hym in pes & [in] tranquille,
With-oute trouble many [a] day a-for,—
To whom accepted was þis Anthenor,
And riȝt welcome, as þe story seith,
And vn-to hym confederat by feith,
Fully assured, be-cam his lige man,
Whom Thetides in al þat euere he can,
Þis worþi kyng, dide magnefie.
And from Troye gret noumbre of his allie
Þer cam in soth to visite hym and se,
And tenhabite þis myȝti stronge cite,
Ful coriously bilt of lym and stoon,
In þilke daies called Menelon,—
To whiche he dide gret riches acroche
—Be-side þe se set vp-on a roche—
And besi was with plente it tastore.
Of þis traitour what shuld I write more?
With his name my penne is so accloyed,
By whos falshed Troye was distroied,
As in þe story ȝe haue rad & seyn.
But now most I pleinly resort ageyn,
And to reherse do my besi cure,
How Cassandra told euery auenture
Þat to þe Grekis after shuld[e] falle;
And how þat she told amonge hem alle,

789

As she þat was prudent & vertuous,
Þat traitourly with-Inne his owne hous
Agamenoun shulde mordrid be:
Þat fatal ende for no þing myȝt he fle.
Lat hym be war, & prudently prouide;
For in þis lyf he shal nat longe abide,
Ageyn his fate was noon oþer red.
Eke Guydo writ, whan Thelamoun was ded
By fals mordre (as ȝe han herd to-forn),
Two sonis he had of sondri wyves born,
Þat wer comitted to be [in] kepynge
With worþi Theutre, a ful manly kyng,
Þat norisshed hem, þe stori seith for soþe,
Til þei after were worþi knyȝtes boþe:
Þe ton of hem called Anthenicus,
And þe toþer hiȝt Antyssacus,
Of shap ful semly & wonder fair of face.
And shortly here Guydo doth forþe pase,
And list of hem no lenger processe make,
But bringeþ in, how Menelay haþ take
His leue of Grekis, with Agamenoun,
Eueryche to saille to his regioun,
With many a Greke in her companye.
And þouȝ Grekis first gan hem denye,
At þe last with instaunce and peyne
Þei had leue to seille boþe tweyne.
And to þe se þei faste gan hem hiȝe,
Mid of autumpne, whiche is cold & drye,
Melencolyk of compleccioun,—
Whan Phebus is passed þe Lyoun,
Þe heuenly beste, þe beste moste royal,
And half y-ronne þe signe virginal,
Whiche after somer is naked & bareyn,
Whan Ceres hath ful riped euery greyne,
Þe tyme of ȝere ful straunge & [ful] diuers,—
And sondri floures, rede, white, & pers,

790

Þe whiche in May so lusti wern & glade,
Vp-on her stalke gynne droupe & fade,
And enclyne her freshe lusty cheris
At goynge oute of þe caniculeris,—
Whan wykked humours inwardly habounde,
With sodeyn fevere folkis to confounde,
To maken hem in an accesse shake;
And of custom wyndes gynne wake,
Boþe bowe & leef causing for to falle,
On þe tyme whan folk to Bachus calle
From storme & reyn her grapis to conserue,
Þat hidous tempest make hem nat to sterue,
Nor no duresse of fretinge of no frost,
Where-þoruȝ ful ofte moche fruit is lost,
And also eke with þondringe & with levene,
Whiche vnwarly smyte fro þe heuene,—
Þe se ful ofte with swiche wedris kene
Boilyng vp with many wawes grene,
Roringe & rowȝe, & froward to manace,
And passingly perlous by to passe,
Al-be þat it be blandyssinge a while,
Þe dredful calm, þouȝ it be smoþe & smile,
Þer is no trust þat it will long abide.

Off A grete tempest of thonder & lytenynge that came to the nauye of Greekes, that brente and drowned .ccxxij. of their Shippes.

Recorde of Grekis, þat swiche a lusty tide
Þe se han take & be-gan to saille
With al her stuf and her apparaille
Home in-to Grece, ful many lusti man,
With al þe gold & tresour þat þei wan
At þe sege, and infinit richesse.
And daies þre, devoide of al distresse,
Þe se obeyed fully to her wille,

791

Devoide of trouble and of wedris ille:
For þei [ful] lusti with-Inne shippes bord,
Þe foure wyndes beinge of accord
Hem to conveie to euery maner cost.
But gladly euere whan men trust[e] most
Vn-to Fortune to stonden in her grace,
She sodeinly change can her face,
Smyle a-forn & mowen at þe bak;
For she vnwarly turned al to wrak,
Þis chaunteresse & þis stormy quene:
For whan Grekis effectuously best wene
In her passage fully assured be
Vp-on þe se þat called was Egee,
Þis false goddesse he[m] anoon forsoke;
And Boreas, þe felle wynde, a-woke,
And with his hidous dredful noise & soun
He turned al her quiete vp-so-doun,
And made þe wowes grisly to arise.
And, as þe story shortly doth deuyse,
Þe briȝt[e] day was turned in-to nyȝt,
Þe heuene dirk, except þe dredful liȝt
Of þe leuene, whiche made hem sore agast;
And þe þondre, þat seuerede seil & mast,
Her toppes smet in-to peces smale,
And in-to water made hem lowe avale;
And fir of liȝtnynge sodeinly þere-wiþ,
Þat Wolcanus forgeth on his stith,
Hath bord fro bord with þe flawme rent,
And two & twenti of her shipes brent,
Wiþ-oute eschape, platly, or refuge,
Þoruȝ þe rage of þis fel deluge.
For al to wrak þis woful navie goth,
Whilom with Grekes Minerva was so wroth,
For þei dide hir no reuerence;
And specially for þe grete offence
Þat spitfully Cylleus Aiax wrouȝt,

792

Whiche in þis tempest he ful dere abouȝt:
For whan [h]is shippes wer almost [y-]drowned,
Þis goddesse haþ so on him frowned,
And of vengaunce so felly hym awaked,
Þat he was fayn for to swymme naked,
As seith myn auctour, at meschef to þe lond.
And þer he was fonden on þe sonde,
Al-most at deth, with-oute remedie,
To hym Minerva hath so gret envie;
For he so woodly to hir temple went,
And Cassandra to-fore hir auter hent
By cruel force & hatful violence.
Lo, what pereil is to don offence
Of hiȝe dispit to any hooly place!
I doute nat, he shal faile grace,—
Who-so-euere vseth hit in dede,
At þe last God wil quyte his mede
[And] Rewarde hym lyk as he disserveth.
And for swiche þing many Greke now sterveþ,
Be-cause only of swiche occasioun,—
Texemplefie, for no presumpcioun
Folily tatame, as I haue tolde:
For ageyn God who-so be to bolde
Shal repent sonner þan he weneth;
And many man þat noon harme [ne] meneth
Suffreþ vengance for trespas of oon;—
Þe first auctor goth not quite allone,
But many oþer his offence abeith.
For ceriously Guydo writ & seith,
Suynge in ordre þe woful auenture
Þat euery Greke homward did endure,
Of hiȝe and lowe sparinge noon estat:
How some welful & some infortunat,
Boþe of her wo & [of] her welfare,
Riȝt as it fil þe stori shal declare.

793

How Kyng Naulus by treason was caused to sett vpon the Grekes nauye, & draue þem vppon Rokkes.

In Grece whilom was a worþi kyng,
Manly & riche, & prudent of living,
And had, in soth, lik as writ Guydo,
In his tyme worþi sonys two:
Pallamydes was þe eldest broþer,
And Oetes called was þe toþer,
Boþe tweyne of o moder borne.
And as þe stori rehersed hath to-forne,
Pallamydes was a noble knyȝt,
Ful famous eke of power & of myȝt,
And fer spoke of in many sondri cost,
And hadde also of al þe Grekis host
For his wisdam whilom gouernaille;
But he, allas! was slay[e]n in bataille,
Þoruȝ vnhap of Martis cruel tene,
Whanne þe sonne shon most briȝt & shene
Of his knyȝthod & his worþines,
Lik as to-forn þe stori bereth witnes,
And of his deth doth pleinly specefie.
But now, of malys, hatrede, & envie,
Of swiche as haue tonges infortunat,
To make [only] kyng Naulus at debat
With þe Grekes, contrived was of newe
An hiȝe tresoun, fals & ful vntrewe,
Þe whiche, in soth, was neuer don ne wrouȝt,
Nor, in effect, ymagined nor þouȝt,
But a fals þing [y-]feyned of malis:—
Þat þis kyng, so manly & so wys,
And so prudent, þis Pallamydes,
Shuld of envie, God wot, causeles,
At þe sege of Troye þe cite,

794

Vp-on a nyȝt falsly mordred be,—
So þat þis slauȝter & þis lothsom dede
By Vlixes & by Dyomede
Wer fully wrouȝt, as ȝe han herd deuise,
Whiche euery hert ouȝt[e] to a-grise.
Þis fals also, þat þis tale han feyned,
To kyng Naulus han traitourly compleined
—Al-be in dede it was neuere ment—
Þat Grekis wern also of assent
To þis mordre and conspiracioun,
Boþe Menelay and Agamenoun—
Al-be, in soth, þat euerydel was false!
—Þat hanged be þei hiȝe be þe halse,
Þat can talis so forgen & contrive,
To make frendes causeles to strive!—
For þei þoruȝ fraude of fals collusioun
Kyng Naulus putte in suspecioun,
Þat Grekis had conspired, dout[e]les,
Vp-on þe mordre of Pallamydes,
Making her ground, whiche þei dide feyne,
Þat fro Troye wer sent lettris tweyne
To Pallamydes, in-mediately direct,
Whiche concluded tresoun in effect:
How þat he was, for al his hiȝe estat,
Falsly allied and confederat
To hem of Troye for a somme of gold,
(Al þis þei han feyned and y-told)
And how he had oute of þe cite
Of gold resseyved huge quantite,
To fyn only Grekes to be-traye,
And to prolonge hem, platly, and delay
At þe sege in getynge of þe toun,
By his engyn and mediacioun.
And to conferme al þis in sentence,
To make Naulus ȝeue ful credence,
Þei seide pleinly, in conclusioun,

795

Þe lettres which wer sent fro þe toun
I-fonde wern enclosed in a sheld
Vp-on a knyȝt y-slawen in þe feld,
Comprehendynge hool þe trecherie,
Þe tresoun ful, and confederacie
Atwene þe toun and Pallamydes,—
Verraily, þouȝ he were gilt[e]les.
And to ȝeuen more open euydence,
To make a pref of þis grete offence,
Þei seide Vlixes—affermynge in certeyn,—
Accorded was with a chaumberleyn
Þat was in offis with Pallamydes,
Wondre secre & no þing rekkeles,
For to assent to þis conspiracie,
Wrongly compassid of brennyng hot envie,
Behotynge hym guerdoun & gret mede,
Like his devis texecute in dede:
To take a tresour & a somme of good,
Ful secrely, & knyt it in an hood,
And hyden it, whan voided was þe pres,
Vnder þe bedde of Pallamydes.
And more to putte Grekis in surete,
Þe tresour was þe same of quantite,
—Þat it ne myȝt after be denyed,—
Liche as þe lettris had[de] specified.
And whan al þis founde was & knowe,
Þoruȝ-oute þe hoste noised & y-blowe,
Boþe of þe lettris & þe gold also,
Fro point to point according boþe two,
Whiche þat þis kyng, assentyng to tresoun,
Receyved hadde oute of Troye toun,
To be assentid (as ȝe han herd me telle),
Þe Grekes þo no lenger wold[e] dwelle,
But shop hem forþe, alle of on entent,
And in al haste cam in-to þe tent
Of þis kyng, ful Innocent & clene,
Þat litel knewe what þei wolde mene,

796

But vp-on hym, ful knyȝtly as he stood,
In her Ire furious and wood,
To be vengid loude gan to crie—
Þer may no man her malys modefie,
Þei wern on hym so merciles at al.
And, as I fynde, most in special,
Kyng Menelay and Agamenoun,
Only meved of indignacioun,
Wolde haue proceded vn-to Iugement,
Of hasty rancour with-oute auysement
On þis tresoun avenged for to be,
Nat-with-stondynge al his hiȝe degre;
But, in sothnes, whan þis worþi kyng
Conceyued hath þis malis in werkyng,
First astonid in his inward siȝt,
Al sodeynly stirt vp lik a knyȝt,
Þis wyse worþi, þis Pallamydes,
Hardy as lyoun amyd al þe pres,
No þing agast, him knyȝtly gan excuse,
And pleinly seide he wolde nat refuse
Taquite hym silf of þis orrible cas,
Nat excepting þat he so worþi was
Of birþe & blood & of hiȝe kynrede,
Al þis devoidinge, of knyȝthod & manhede,
As he þat gaf of lif nor deth no fors,
To-forn hem alle to iuparte his cors
With-Inne a feld, wher hem list ordeyne,
Lyk as a knyȝt his quarel to darreyne
With who þat list or durst it vndirtake,
Excepcioun hym liked noon to make
Of hiȝe nor lowe, who þat were so bolde
To preue þe tresoun, þat I haue ȝow tolde,
Besechinge hem to make no delay
Nor prolonge hym, but þe same day
Manly requeringe it may be don in hast.
But þei þat had falsly þis þing compast,

797

Of his answer astonyd wern echon
In al þe host þat þer was nat oon
Þat hardy was, ȝif I shal nat feyne,
In chaumclos þis quarel to darreyne—
Nouþer Vlixes, nouþer Dyomede,
Chef werkers of þis foule dede.
But Vlixes, as he was customable,
In euery þing to be deceyuable,
Double in his werk & ful ay of deceit,
Liche a serpent þat lyth in a-wait,
Whiche vnder floures can so glide & trace,—
Riȝt so Vlixes, with a feyned face,
Whan þat he sawe þe knyȝtly hiȝe prowesse,
Þe manly cher, and þe hardynesse
And hiȝe renoun of þis Pallamydes,
Anoon of falshede put hym silf in pres,
And liche a frende þat ment[e] nat but wel,
Brotel as glas, pretendinge outward stel,
With oon þe first gan [him] to excuse,
Hem conseillinge no lenger for to muse
On þis mater, for her alder ese,
And by craft gan hem so appese,
Touching þe rumour of þis hiȝe tresoun,
Þat he hath voided al suspecioun
Oute of her hertis,—concludynge, in certeyn,
Þis accusynge made was in veyn,
And conspired only of hatrede—
Al-be hym silf was rote of al þis dede.
But whanne he saw he myȝt[e] nat acheve,
As ȝe han herd, þis worþi kyng to greue,
Som spot of tresoun on hym for to leye,
He hath anon founde anoþer weye
By thassent fully of Diomede:
Vnder pretence, pleinly, of frendlyhede
Comynge to hym ageyn a certeyn nyȝt,
Vnder surance, as he was trewe knyȝt,
Counseil to kepe, ouþer for sote or sour,
Enformyng hym of a grete tresour

798

Of gold & good and infinit richesse
To hem discured vnder secrenesse,
Þe whiche, sothly, no man dide knowe,
Hid & enclosid in a welle lowe
With-Inne a feld a litel þer be-side,
Þe whiche hem list fro hym nat to hyde,
But of trust vn-to hym discure,
So he wolde done his besy cure
Þe same nyȝt with hem for to go
Vn-to þe welle—þei þre & no mo—
To fet a-way þat grete some of good.
And he, in soth, þat no þing vndirstood
What þei ment, assentid was anoon;
And so þei þre be to-gidre goon
Vn-to þe welle, lik as I haue told,
And for þat he most manly was & bold,
Pallamydes, liche as þei hym telle,
Descended is lowe in-to þe welle,
Supposinge to haue a tresour founde.
But þei, allas! hym falsly to confounde,
Han mordrid hym with stonys gret & huge,
He in þe botme havynge no refuge;
And whan þei had acomplished þer entent,
Þei be repeired eueryche to his tent.
Þis þe tale, þe stori telleth vs,
Þat feyned was to þe kyng Naulus,
Tochinge þe deth of Pallamydes,
Hem to disclaundre þat were gilt[e]les!
For Vlixes, & with hym Diomede
Were Innocent, platly, as I rede,
And Grekis alle, boþe nyȝe & ferre:
For he was slayn knyȝtly in þe werre,
Duringe þe sege, of Paris with an arwe.
But who is fals, feyne can ful narwe
To fynde a tale þat neuere ȝit was þouȝt!
And of þe tresoun þat shuld haue be wrouȝt

799

Touchynge þe lettris sent oute of þe toun,
Þer was no swiche conspiracioun
By Grekis wrouȝt, but a fable vnsoth,
Falsly feyned to make Naulus wroth
With Vlixes and Diomede also,
Agamenoun, and oþer Grekis mo,
To letten hem homward in her weye,
And hyndre also—þer is no more to seie—
As þei repeire to her regiouns.
And Naulus þanne by þis occasiouns,
And Oetes his sone, a manly man,
Accorded ben, in what þei may or can,
Be oon assent tavenge merciles
Þe cruel mordre of Pallamydes,
And to ordeyne at her hom passage
To werke fully in-to her damage,
For Grekes moste of necessite
Homward saille for-by his contre.
Wherfore þis kyng shapen hath a wyle:
On hilles hiȝe, by a lytel yle,
In wynter sesoun euery maner nyȝt
To make fires and to sette vp lyȝt,
To causen hem on þe se to erre.
For, as Grekis sawe þe fire a-ferre,
Vnwar of harme, cast hem for to londe,
As þei þat coude no pereil vndirstonde,
But shopen hem with al her ful[le] myȝt
For to arive fast[e] by þe liȝt,
Wher-with two hundrid of her shippes brak
Amonge rokkes, and fully go to wrak,
Þat þer was drowned many worþi man.
And þus þe vengaunce alderfirst be-gan
Þat kyng Naulus hath on Grekis take
Of dedly hate for his sonis sake,
To gret mischef and confusioun
Of Grekis navie; but Agamenoun

800

With gret pereil is þe deth eskaped,
Þat had almost among hem be beiapid:
For erlys, dukis, & worþi kynges crowned,
Þoruȝ þis treyne in þe se wer drowned.
But Menelay and also Diomede
Eskapeden þis meschef, as I rede.
And when þei wern from al daunger goon,
Þis Oetes, wood for Ire, anoon
In his herte shope anoþer wyle,
And þouȝt he wold Agamenoun be-gyle,
Compassinge a ful mortal strif,
Leet send a lettre anon to þe wyf
Of þis myȝti grete Agamenoun,
In whiche þer was included fals tresoun;
For evene lik, ȝif I shal nat lye,
Þus in effect þei dide specefie:
First, how hir lord Agamenoun þe kyng
Hadde at þe sege wrouȝt a wonder þing
In preiudyse and sclaunder of hir name,
Al-be in hir was no maner blame,
(Liche as he wrot) platly, nor trespace
His kyngly honour of foly to difface;—
Þis to seyn, Guydo telleth þus,
He loued a douȝter of kyng Priamus,
And for bewte had hir to wyve take,
And hir in herte finally for-sake,
Þis worþi quene, whilom of so gret fame;—
And Clemestra sothly was hir name,
Wonder semly and riȝt fair with-al,
And be descent borne of þe stook royal,—
Hir tellynge eke, for al hir excellence,
Al-be þat she neuere dide offence,—
Ȝet hir lord of newfangilnesse
Toke anoþer, þe lettres dide expresse,
Fully in purpos anoon at his repeire,
Þouȝ Clemestra wer boþe good & fayre,

801

Al sodeynly hir[e] to exile
Oute of his lond many þousand myle,
Warnyng hir þat she be prudent.
Þis was þe substaunce, as in sentament,
Þat Oetes wrote vn-to þis quene,
Al-be þe kyng was Innocent & clene,
And was to hir in al his forn lyvynge
Lovynge and trewe in al maner þing,
And hir to plese passinge ententif
In word and dede duryng al his lyf,
As fer as ouȝt of resoun be desyred.
But þe letteris, þat falsly were conspired,
Þei han hir put, par cas of Innocence,
For to ȝeven to hastily credence,
Þankynge first Oetes for his trouþe,
Þat so goodly hym list to haue rouþe
Vp-on hir wronge of hiȝe compassioun.
(And ȝet þe story makeþ mencioun
Here-afterward, as I shal descrive,
Þat she was þe falsest oon alyve
Vn-to hir lord in his longe absence.)
And in al hast she made strong diffence
Ageyn þis kyng, & gan hir to purueie
Be swiche fraude þat she shal nat deie;
But of hir werk, in soth, she was to wyte,
Þe whiche, allas! I must anoon endite,
As þe story, platly, doth me lere,
Whiche doolful is & mortal for to here!

How kynge Agamenon, by treason of Oetes aforesaide, by his owne quene Clemestra was slayne in his bedde; and how she maried Egistus.

Ovnsur trust of al worldly glorie,
With sodeyn chaunge put oute of memorie!
O Ioie vnstable of veyn ambicioun,

802

With vnwar torn reuersed vp-so-doun!
O ydel fame, blowe up to þe skye,
Ouer-whelmyd with twyncling of an eye!
O pompe, o bost of tryumphe & victorie,
Liche a shadewe wast & transitorie!
O Fortune, fals and vnassured,
Þat [to] no man was neuer fully lured,
To hiȝe nor lowe of no maner estat,
With bond of feith to be confederat;
Ageyn whos myȝt no man may him diffende,
But at his torne þat he shal descende
Whan he sit hiȝest on þin vnstable whele,—
Þi brotel fauour, forgid not of stele,
Meynt and allaied with mutabilite:
For welfulnesse and fals felicite
With sodeyn swiȝ froward þou canst avale!
Now freshe of chere, now for anger pale,
Of hiȝe disdeyn þou sparest no degre;
For princes, dukes, hiȝest in her se,
Miȝti kynges & worþi Emperours
Þat richest regne in her royal floures,
With sceptre & crowne þou canst pulle doun!
I take witnesse of Agamenoun,
Þat was so noble & myȝti in his lyve,
As sondry auctours his hiȝe renoun discrive;
But, sothfastly, for al his excellence,
He myȝt[e] nat make no diffence,
With alle þe kynges þat his baner swe,
Conspired mordre to voiden & eschewe.
Reskus was noon þat he koude make!
For whiche, allas! my penne I fele quake,
Þat doth myn ynke blotten on my boke.
O myȝti God, þat with þin inward loke
Sest euery þing þoruȝ þin eternal myȝt,
Whi wiltow nat of equite and riȝt
Punishe & chastise so horrible a þing,
And specialy þe mordre of a kyng?

803

Allas! þe peyne of Yxyoun in helle,
Or of Manes þat with Sathan dwelle,
Were nat egal nor equipolent
To venge mordre, nor sufficient:
For it excedeth in comparisoun
Al felonye, falshede, and tresoun.
Wherfor, o Lord, þat sest & knowest al
Þoruȝ þi power þat is eternal,
Suffre non swiche to live vp-on þe grounde—
Wers þan tigre or Cerberus þe hounde,
Þat cheyned lyth, bounde at helle gate;
Whiche, of malis pleinly þouȝ he hate,
He berkeþ first or he do offence:
But mordre gladly is wrouȝt in silence
Or men aduerte or taken any kepe.
Allas! a prince to slen hym in his slepe,
On his pilwe whanne he slepeth softe,
Þat crieth wreche to hiȝe God alofte
And axeþ vengaunce to be take as faste:
Þouȝ it abide it wil oute at þe laste!
Allas! a kyng, spoken of so ferre,
Þat was so worþi outeward in þe werre!
His cruel fate, passinge odious,
Disposed hath in his owne hous
His mortal ende to ben execute,
Ageyn[e]s whiche þer was no refute.
For riȝt as he his ship to lond[e] sette,
Þe quene Clemestra on þe strond [him] met
With humble chere & loke ful benigne,
And shewed oute many feithful signe
Of wifly trouþe in hir countenaunce,
Al-be in herte þer was variaunce,
Nat parceived pleinly in her face.
Whom þe kyng goodly dide embrace,
As he in soth þat but trouþe ment;
And to his paleis þe hiȝe weie he went,

804

Nat aduerting þe tresoun þat was shape,
Þe whiche, allas! he myȝt[e] nat eskape—
Of þe falshede he koude no þing fele.
But I ne may no lenger it concele,
Ageyn hir lord how Clemestra wrouȝt;
For on hir bond of wedlok she ne þouȝt;
Þe trewe lok, sothly, of spousaille
Ageyn hir malis lite myȝt availle
Vn-to hir lord hir trouþe to conserue.
Newfangilnesse causede to sterve
Hir olde feith and hir assuraunce.
Hir loue abood on a fikel chaunce;
Longe absence had hir hert appalled.
She loued oon þat was Egistus called,
Whiche a-forn alle in hir grace stood,
Þat nouþer was of birþe nor of blood
Litel or nouȝt of reputacioun,
Nor renomed of manhod nor renoun,
Nor of knyȝthod nor of hiȝe prowesse,
But for his labour & his besynesse
And good await [vp-]on hir be nyȝt.
Þerfor he was best forþered in hir siȝt,
Suche drede hadde she for to lyn allone,
Sorweles so wel she koude grone.
I can nat seyn what lif þat þei ladde,
Except þat she by hym a douȝter hadde;
And Erigona Guydo seith she hyȝt.
And vn-to hym Clemestra behiȝt,
Assurynge hym vp peyne of hir hed,
He sholde regne whan hir lorde wer ded;
And to enhaste þis conclusioun,
Hir worþi lord, kyng Agamenoun,
Þe next[e] nyȝt was mordred & I-slayn
By fals Egistus: & þe quene ful fayn
No lenger bood, þe story can ȝou lere,
But in al hast þei wedded wern I-fere.

805

And by hir false & sleiȝti compassyng
Of Messene she made hym crowned kyng,
And putte hym ful in possessioun.
Allas! þat synne hath domynacioun
To forþer wronge and abate riȝt!
For in þis worlde falshed hath more myȝt
Ful ofte sithe þan haþ riȝtwisnesse,
And in þestat set of worþinesse.
Lo, how þe synne of avouterye
Brouȝt in mordre by conspiracie!
Synne vp-on synne lynked boþe tweyne,
And, enbracid in þe fendis cheyne,
Perpetuelly in helle to endure!
Allas! who shal hym silfe ful assure
Fro cruel mordre his body to withdrawe,
Whan þat kynges in her bed are slawe?—
Whiche bringeth in alyenacioun,
By extort title fals successioun;—
Þer may colour of pretense seme,
But ful streitly God shal after deme
And iustly venge with due recompense
Intrusioun brouȝt in by violence,
And felly quite swiche horrible þinges
As sodeyn slauȝter, specially of kynges,
Gretly to drede in euery regioun.
And, as I finde, þat Agamenoun
By Clemestra, þe false double quene,
Hadde a sone passing fair to sene,
Riȝt gracious in euery mannys siȝt;
And Horestes þe bok seith þat he hiȝt,
Wonder semly & but ȝong of age.
And for gret fer in þis mortal rage
List he wer slayn, as it was to drede,
Tanulle his title þat he nat succede,
Hym to preserue þat he wer nat shent,
Kyng Taltibus with power haþ hym sent

806

Ful secrely oute of þat cuntre
Vn-to a kyng called Ydumee,
Þat held his sceptre & his royal sete
Ful myȝtely in þe lond of Crete.
And Carkasis named was þe quene,
Þat hadde a douȝter called [eke] Clymene,
Born to ben eir of þat regioun.
And, as it is made eke mencioun,
Þis Horestes, to reknen al[le] þing,
Was with þe quene and also with þe kyng
Cherisshed as wel, þe story can ȝou lere,
As Clymena hir owne douȝter dere,
And was eke kept and hadde in cherte
Fro point to point, liche to his degre,
With attendaunce convenient & due
To his estat, þat euere vp-on hym sue,
Of swiche as wern most expert & sage
To gouerne hym til he com to age,
To reioishe, ȝif God ȝaf hym myȝt,
His heritage to whiche he hadde riȝt
By clere discent, ȝif happi were his chaunce.
Þus leue I hym vnder gouernaunce,
Þe ȝonge sone of Agamenoun.
For I mvt make a digressioun
Fro þis mater, and telle of Diomede
Þe auentures, in Guydo as I rede,—
His woful fate & his peynes smerte,
Þe whiche, allas! he myȝt[e] nat asterte,
As is remembrid pleinly in writing,
Þat Oetes, sone of þe riche kyng
Called Naulus, as ȝe han herd to-forn,
Swiche hevines in his herte haþt born
Vn-to Grekis repeiring home fro Troye,
Þat his lust & his inwarde Ioie
Was hem to hindre, boþe hiȝe & lowe;
And cause whi to ȝou is nat vnknowe:
To hem he was so passing envious,

807

In wil and þouȝt yliche desirous
Ȝif he myȝt, sothly þis no lees,
Þe deth tavenge of Pallamydes,
Liche as to-forn þe story can deuise
To ȝou þat ben so prudent & so wyse.
And how Oetes now of malis wrouȝt,
And traitourly newe menys souȝt
Ȝif he myȝt be any maner weye
Diomedes vnwarly distroye,—
Of al þis þing I cast[e] nat to faile
Ceriously to make rehersaille.

How quene Egra, the wyff of Dyomede, exilede hym when he wolde have reparyde to his owne kyngdam fro Troye, by the fals ymaginacyoun of Oetes, Palamydes brothere.

In Grece was a kyngdam wyde & large,
Coniunct in oon, Calydonye & Arge,
Ful abundaunt of riches and of rent,
Of whiche þe kyng called was Pollent,
A worþi man & of a noble fame,
And had a son—Assandrus was his name—
And a douȝter passing fair of siȝte,
And, sothly, Egra I fynde þat she hiȝte.
And for hir fader, lik as writ Guydo,
Had no mo but þese children two,
For hem he haþ of wisdam so prouyded,
Þis myȝti regne for to be deuided
Atwene hem two after his disses,
Eche with his part for to liven in pes,
Texcluden hem fro indigence or nede.
And she was wyf vn-to Diomede,—
Al-be to-forn þe story of hym saide

808

Þat he whilom loued wel Cressaide—
I can nat seine wher it was doubilnesse,
But wel wot I, Guydo bereth witnesse
And in his book, sothly, seith non oþer,—
And how Assandrus, his owne wyves broþer,
Ful lusti, fresshe, & ful of manlihede
To Troie went wiþ þis Diomede;
But in þe se for-driven vp-so-doun,
Þei ryved vp in þe regioun
Called Boece, al discounsolat,
With tempest drive, wery & ful maat,
Hem to refresshe & for non oþer þing;
In whiche lond Thelephus was kyng.
Of whos rivaille whan he herd[e] seyn,
In his herte he hadde hiȝe disdeyn
Þat þei wer bold to don so gret offence,
Tentre his grounde havinge no licence;
And ȝit, in soth, þei dide no damage
To hiȝe nor lowe of no maner age,
Nor toke nat þat myȝt disavaille
Vn-to þat lond, but it were vitaille,
For whiche þei paied iustly at þe fyn,
For flesshe & fysshe & for bred & wyn.
Ȝit for al þat, of indignacioun
Kyng Thelephus is descended doun
With gret array, to harme hem ȝif he myȝt;
And so þei gan to bikeren & to fiȝt.
And Assandrus, ful of hiȝe prowesse,
Liche a lioun his fomen gan oppresse,
And wonder knyȝtly þe feld vp-on hem wan,
And slow þat day many worþi man,
Of hiȝe corage and of manly pride.
And whan þe kyng, whiche þat stod a-side,
Sawe his men slawe on euery part,
Of hiȝe disdeyn hent anon a dart

809

And cast at hym, allas, þe mortal fate!
And percid hath þoruȝ mailles & plate
Of Assandrus, þat he fil doun ded,
Þe soil aboute of his blood al red,
His dedly wounde so be-gan to blede.
And wod as tigre þo cam Diomede,
And hym to avenge bar hym lik a knyȝt,
Sleþ and kylleþ, & putte hem to þe fliȝt,
And after þat swiche sorwe gan to make
Of knyȝtly rouþe for his broþer sake,
Þat he ne wist what was best to do.
But, as I fynde, myd of al his wo,
Fro best & foule þe dede cors to save,
Liche his estat he lete make a graue
And buried hym after rytes olde.
But Oetes to his sister tolde
Þat he was slayn by fraude of Diomede,
To fyn þat he myȝt[e] [ful] possede
Þe regne of Arge hool, with-oute strif,
With þe purpa[r]ti annexid to his wif;
For by his deth he myȝt[e] sesoun take:
And told [hir] eke þat she was for-sake,
Þis faire Egra, for al hir wommanhede,
Of hir lord called Diomede.
All þis he told (in helle be he cheyned!).
And, ouermore, he forged haþ & feyned
How of envie Assandrus lost his lyf;
And how hir lord haþ take a-noþer wif,
Þat was to hir dishonour & shame,
And passingly gret sclaunder to hir name
In preiudise doon to hir estat.
Al þis he tolde to make hem at debate,
Liche as he wrot, in conclusioun,
To Clemestra of Agamenoun,

810

Whiche hir herte made sore greve:
For he putte hir fully in byleve
Of al þe tresoun, ȝe haue herde me told,
Þat for Ire she wexe pale and cold,
Vnkyndenesse so hir herte sleth,
And hevinesse of hir broþer deth.
For neuer ȝit, Guydo doth assure,
No womman louede bet a creature
Þan she louede hym, in no manere age:
[For] First at nouȝt she sette hir heritage
In comparisoun of hir broþer lyf—
Lo, how Oetes made a newe strif,
As ȝe han herde in þe story rede!—
Þat gilt[e]les worþi Diomede,
Whan he haþ long at þe sege leyn,
And to his kyngdam wolde han comme ageyn,
By myȝti hond of þis worþi quene,
And hir liges þat assented bene,
He was exiled oute of þat regioun,—
Þer may be made no mediacioun.
Þus, in hym silfe maat & dis[es]peired,
Discounsolat he is ageyn repeired
To Salerne, a lond of gret richesse,
Wher þat Teuter þoruȝ his worþinesse
With crowne and scepter had[de] regned longe
With his liges and his knyȝtes stronge,
And broþer was to Aiax Thelamoun,
Mordred to-forn, as made is mencioun.
And Diomede, pore and destitut,
May in Salerne fynde no refut:
For whan Teuter first gan hym espie,
He suede after by ful gret envie,
Havynge to hym ay suspecioun
Touching þe deth of kyng Thelamoun.
But Diomede on a certeyn nyȝt
Ful secrely hath taken hym to fliȝt,

811

And fro Salerne fast[e] gan hym hiȝe
In hope to fynde better remedie,
Helpe or socour in som oþer place,
Ȝif fortune wolde graunt hym grace.
For of hym silf ashamed & confus,
As man forsake, abiect, and refus,
Riȝt so ferde he, wandring to & fro,
As he þat nist what was best to do.
But, I fynde, þe Troyan Eneas,
Þat al þis while stille at Troye was,
Only of rouþe and compassioun
To supporte hem þat wer left of þe toun,
Beynge alweye of her lyf in doute,
Of her fomen rounde be-set aboute,
As þei þat lyvede for lak of an hed
Continuelly in meschef and in dred,
Knowynge no refut nor counfort in þis cas,—
Til by counseil of þis Eneas,
To support hem in þis gret[e] nede
Þei sent in haste for þis Diomede,
Knowynge ful wel his desolacioun,
How he was proscript fro his regioun—
Besechinge hym, of manhod & of rouþe,
Hym to enhaste, with-outen any slouþe,
With al þe stuf þat he gete can,
And sowden vp euery manly man
With-oute abood & to Troie hem lede,
To socour hem in þis grete nede.
And Diomede cam, & tarieth nouȝt,
At her request, as he was be-souȝt,
To releue hem in þis sharp[e] shour,
And with hym brouȝt many soudiour.
And Eneas on þe weie hym mette
In frendely wyse, & in-to toun hym fette,
And to hym made passingly gret chere.
And þer þei gan to comwne y-fere

812

Her auentures boþe on lond and se,
Entermedlyd wiþ gret aduersite,
Þat no man may deuoide nor eschewe,
But take his part, as it to hym is dwe,
As sort or hap doth his bridel lede.
And in þis story shortly to procede,
Cely Troiens, þat almost were shent
With her fomen of Iles adiacent
Þat hem be-set abouten enviroun,—
[But] Þoruȝ þe manhod and þe hiȝe renoun
Of Diomede and his sowdiours
And oþer knyȝtes, noble werriours,
Þei wer reskued & holpen outterly;
And foure daies þei fauȝt by and by,
In knyȝtly wyse deffendinge þe cite;
And þoruȝ þe prowesse also of Enee
Þei slen and take al þat hem with-stood,
And in diffense of Troianyshe blood,
Swiche as þei founde to þe cite fals,
Þei henge hem vp hiȝe by þe hals,
And punyshe[d] hem for her gret[e] wrong.
And Diomede þus gan wexe stronge
By longe processe, as made is mencioun,
Chef protector now of Troie toun,
Þat enmy noon by a large space
Durst abide, but he hadde grace,
To his ligaunce so he made hem loute.
And þus his name sprede gan aboute,
Þat of his fame þe gret oppinioun
Dilated is vn-to þe Regioun,
By swift report, of Calydonye & Arge,
Whiche þe quene gretly gan to charge;
And astonyd, whan she takeþ hede,
His power gan & his myȝt to drede,
List he wolde hir lond vp-on hir wynne,
And of knyȝthod a werre newe be-gynne.
And secrely gan mvsen on þis þing,
Þat hir lord & hir myȝti kyng,

813

Late exiled & [y-]putte to fliȝt,
Hath grace founde in Fortunys siȝt,
And is remounted to so hiȝe estat.
Wherof she was in hir self chek-maat,
And weyes cast, as she þat was prudent,
By hool avis of hir parlement,
With-oute grucchinge or rebellioun,
Hym to reuoke to his Regioun;
And þer-vppon to hym louly sent.
And with lettres þe messager forþe went,
Þe cause anullynge for whiche he was exiled,
And how he was fully reconsiled
By hool assent of his liges alle,
And ful louly, euerychon, þei calle,
For her offence & [for] her trespace,
With-oute rigour for to don hem grace.
And he anoon, liche a manly knyȝt,
Mor of mercy, sothly, þanne of riȝt,
Whan he hath her sond[e] wel conceived
And her menynge fully apparceived,
To stint al strif þouȝt[e] for þe beste
In goodly wyse to graunte her requeste;
And to his regne with-Inne a certeyn day
He is repeired in ful riche array.
Of whos commyng ful glad his liges ben;
And recouncyled boþe he & quene,
And al rancour of any old offence
Only of wysdam þei put in suspence;
And of oon hert a blisful lyf þei lede—
In Troie boke no more of him I rede,
But late him lyve in felicite!
Ageyn resortynge to tellen of Enee,
After how he hath his tyme spent,
Whiche is fro Troie with many Troyan went.
His shippes stuffed, he & his meyne
Be seiled forþe by many straunge se,

814

Many daunger & many streit passage,
To-forn or he arived in Cartage,
Ledyng wiþ hym his fader Anchises,—
Þat, be þe waye, I fynde þat he les
His wyf Crewsa by fatal auenture;—
But al þe wo þat he dide endure,
Who-so list ceriously to sene,—
And how þat he falsede þe quene,
I mene Dido, of wommanhede flour,
Þat gaf to hym [hir] richesse & tresour,
Iowelys & gold, & al þat myȝt hym plese,
And euery þing þat myȝt[e] do hym ese,
But for al þat, how he was vnkynde,—
Rede Eneydos, & þer ȝe shal it fynde:—
And how þat he falsly stale away
By nyȝter tyme while she a-bedde lay,
And of his conquest also in Yta[i]lle,
Where he had many stronge bataille,
His auentures and his werkes alle,
And of þe fyn þat is to hym falle,—
Ȝe may al seen, by ful souereyn style
From point to point compiled in Virgile,
Written & made siþen go ful ȝore;
For Troie boke spekeþ of hym no more,
But procedeth, as I shal endite,
How Horrestes cast hym for to quyte
His fadres deth, pleinly, & nat spare,
Ȝif ȝe list here as Guydo shal declare.

Howe Horrestes was commawnded by the goddis, that he shulde repayre to his kyngdam, and Cruelly, without pite, scle his moder Clemestra, for the mordere of his Fader, Agamenoun.

It is requerid of equite & riȝt,
Of þilke Iuge þat is most of myȝt
And egally holdeth his balaunce,
On deth conspired for to do vengaunce:

815

Þe vois of blood doth so ay contune
To crye wreche with clamoure importune
On hem, in soth, þat it iniustly shede;
For mordre wrouȝt wil han his egal mede
And his guerdoun, as he hath disservid.
Þei may nat fle þe Iugement reservid
Of hym þat sitte hiȝest in his throne,
And al beholdeth by hym silf allone,
Ful riȝtfully, þe noble myȝti Kyng;
For þouȝ he suffre, he forȝet no þing,
But al considereth in his inspeccioun.
And for þe mordre of Agamenoun,
Þe myȝti Lord, whiche is most souereyn God,
Made his mynystre of þe same blood,
Ȝonge Horrestes, ful of hiȝe prowesse,
Texecute his dome of riȝtwisnesse,
And gaf to hym power, grace, & myȝt.
And he anoon toke þe ordre of knyȝt
Of Ydumeus, liche as it is tolde,
Whan he was foure & twenti wynter olde,
Fresshe and lusty, & wonderly prudent,
And inwardly desirous of entent,
Ȝif fortune wolde hym nat wyth-seyn,
His heritage to recure ageyn
Whiche Egistus falsly hym denyeth,
And þe crowne iniustly occupieth
By fals title of hir þat was his wyf.
But Horrestes wil iupart his lif,
And aventure, while him lasteth breth:
First to be venged on his fadris deth
Vp-on hem þo þat þe tresoun wrouȝt.
And alderfirst ful louly he be-souȝt
Kyng Ydumee of his goodlyhede
To forþeren hym in þis gret[e] nede;
And þe kyng benignely anoon
Assigned hath with hym for to goon

816

A þousand knyȝtes, manly & riȝt stronge,
To redresse þe grete horrible wronge
Of Egistus wrouȝt by violence.
And by his wysdam & his dilligence,
Þis Horrestes gan hym so purueie,
With-Inne a while, þer is no more to seie,
Þat he hym gat (þe story wil nat lye)
A-noþer þousand in his companye
Of worþi knyȝtes, alle of oon accorde
To go with hym, as with her souereyn lord,
In euery þing his biddyng to obeie,
As ȝe han herde, Egistus to werreye.
And þus Horrestes, in ful riche array,
Gan hosteye & made no delay,
And his loggynge aldirfirst gan chese
In a cite þat called was Troeȝe,
Received þere with grete reuerence
Of þe kyng, þat named was Forence,
A manly knyȝt, as bokes specefie,
And bare in herte passing gret envie
To Egistus, by double occasioun:
First, for þe deth of Agamenoun,
And eke for he hadde a douȝter dere
Þat was to hym inwardly entere,
Boþe good & fair, & but ȝonge of age,
Þat whilom was ȝoven in mariage
To Egistus; but he of doubilnesse,
Of fals tresoun & newfongilnesse
Þe kynges douȝter haþ outterly for-sake,
And in al haste dide a lybel make,
And forge a writ of repulsioun,
Al-be he hadde no trewe occasioun,
Þis Egistus, þat he hir for-soke,
Saue þat he falsly to wyve toke
Þe quene Clemestra, a-geyn al [riȝt and] lawe,

817

Whanne by assent þei mordred han & slawe
Agamenoun, as it to-forn is tolde,
Þat whilom was so myȝti & so boold.
And for þe hatful fals conspiracie,
As wel of mordre as [of] avoutrie,
To venge boþe by due recompense,
Þe worþi knyȝt, þe myȝti kyng Forrense
Offred Horestes for to make hym stronge
And go with hym to helpe venge his wrong,
And with hym ladde, armed briȝt in steel,
Foure hundrid knyȝtes, horsed wonder wel,
Takynge þe feld with a manly chere.
And so Horestes and þe kyng y-fere
Be riden forþe with many manly man.
But Horestes, or [he] þis werre gan,
Whan briȝt[e] Phebus in þe Bole shoon,
To þe temple is ful lowly goon,
And to þe goddis in his best[e] wyse
With humble herte dide sacrifise,
Fully in hope þe better for to fare:
Wher he was bode, for lif nor deth to spare,
With-oute merci or remissioun,
Þe deth to venge of Agamenoun
On Clemestra, þat was most to wyte,
And þat he make first his swerd to bite
On his moder, with his hondis tweyne,
And ouermore to done his besy peyne,
With-oute pite, & no merci shewe,
On smale pecis til she be to-hewe
And dismembrid assondre Ioint fro Ioint,
And eke þat he forȝete nauȝt a point,
Iustly to punyshe by rigour & by riȝt
Egistus eke, þe fals vntrewe knyȝt,
And þat he be nat slowe nor necligent
To execute þe commaundement
Of þe goddes, list what after falle.

818

And þanne Horestes with his knyȝtes alle,
And Forense þe myȝti kyng also,
Of oon herte be to þe sege go
Of þe cite þat called was Methene,
With-Inne whiche was þe fals[e] quene
Clemestra,—God ȝif hir harde grace!
And whanne Horestes seged haþ þe place,
With his knyȝtes set it rounde aboute,
False Egistus was y-riden oute
To gadre men and to ben awreke,
And falle vppon & þe sege breke
Ȝif he myȝt, on eny maner side;
And with gret stuf þus he gan to ride,
Takyng vp men fro euery cost,
Til he hym made a ful myȝti host.
But Horestes, whiche at þe sege lay,
His gouernaunce espieth day be day,
And sent oute men, as he þat was ful sage,
To stoppe weies & lettyn his passage,
And made knyȝtes, a ful huge route,
To pursewe hym euery cost aboute.
And of þe sege, manfully be-gonne,
By assaute he hath þe toun y-wonne,
And entrid in on a nyȝt ful late,
And set[te] wardis stronge at euery gate.
And in [a] dongoun, moste stronge & principal,
Þat was of bildynge myȝti and royal,
Þis Horestes first his moder fond,
Þe quene Clemestra, lady of þat lond,
Whiche for drede sore gan to quake;
But merciles anoon he made hir take
And putte in cheynes til þe next[e] morwe.
And Egistus,—God ȝif hym euele sorwe!—
With al þe stuf þat he myȝt acroche,
Toward þe toun fast[e] gan a-proche
In purpos ful Horestes for to greve,
And hem with-Inne sodeynly releve.

819

But al, in soth, myȝt[e] nat availle;
For or þat he þe cite myȝt availle,
Horestes knyȝtes vnwarly han hym met,
And alle attonis proudly on hym set:
First slayn his men & putte hem to þe fliȝt,
And taken hym, maugre al his myȝt,
And with cheynes, lik as þei hym finde,
Merciles ful fast[e] þei hym binde,
And shet hym vp, fetrid in prisoun.
And alle fals founden in þe toun,
Þat wer assentid, willy, or helpynge
To þe mordre of þe worþi kyng,
Grete werkers and conspiratours,
Ageyn her lord rysing as traitours,—
Alle were take and bounde be rigour
Þe same nyȝt, & shet vp in a tour,
Til on þe morwe, lik as þe lot be drawe,
Eueryche of hem vndirfonge his lawe
Liche his decert,—excepcioun was noon.
And whanne þe nyȝt passed was & goon,
And Phebus ros estwarde in his spere
And on þe toures shon ful briȝt & clere,
Whanne Clemestra, rote of al falshede,
Was brouȝt forþe, quakyng in her drede,
Beforn Horestes to Iugement I-fet,
He, with a swerde, sharpe and kene whet,
Liche as þe goddes chargid hym to-forn,
On pecis smale he hath hir al to-shorn,
And made hir bern oute of þe tovnis boundis
To be vowrid of bestis & of houndis:—
Pite was noon in his brest reseruyd,
But quitte hir fully as she haþ disservid
Fro point to point, & forgat riȝt nouȝt.
And þanne cheyned Egistus was forþe brouȝt,
And iustly dempt by rigour of þe lawe

820

On an hirdel naked to be drawe
Þoruȝ-oute þe toun, þat alle myȝt[e] se,
And after hiȝe [en]hangid on a tre,
For to rote & drye ageyn þe sonne.
Lo, how mordre haþ his guerdoun wonne!
Lo, how falshede his maister can awake!
And alle þe traitours in þe toun y-take
Wern on galwes enhonged euerychon,
Til þei were seuered asonder bon fro bon,
Hiȝe on an hil ageyn þe sterres shene.
Þus was þe toun fro tresoun purged clene,
And with trouþe awmentid & y-morid;
And to his regne Horestes ful restorid,
As þe story suynge shal expowne,
And of þe day whan he toke his crowne.

Howe kynge Menelay, brother to Agamenon, set a parlement at Athenes, wher he entendyde to haue deprivede Horrestes of his kyngdam, for þe dethe of his moder; bot Horrestes was crownyde.

And whan þe myst & euery cloudy skye
Of fals tresoun and conspiracie
Were tried oute, vp-on euery side,
Þat falshed had no place to abide,
Þe story seith, in ordre rehersynge,
Þe same tyme Menelay þe kyng,
Oute of þe se ful of wawys wete,
Fro Troie-ward arived was in Crete,
Frely eskapid many drede and peyne,
With his quene, þe goodly freshe Eleyne.
And for cause she was so famous fair,
Gret was þe pres & merveilous repaire
Fro euery part hir bewte to beholde,
For whom Troie, with wallis not ful olde,
Destroied was, þe noble royal toun;

821

And many man, ful worþi of renoun,
Haþ lost his lyf—þer may no man seie nay—
Al for Eleyne, wyf to Menelay:
Whan þing is doon, it may be noon oþer.
But whan þis kyng knewe fully of his broþer
Agamenoun mordre and euerydel,
He was ful trist, & liked no þing wel,
But inwardly felt[e] ful grete smerte;
And his nevew he hadde also at herte—
I mene Horestes—þat so merciles,
Liche a tyraunte þat were graceles,
His moder slowe, and had[de] no pite,
Of mortal Ire in his cruelte,—
And fully cast þat he wolde blive
Of scepter & crowne, platly, hym deprive,
Fully affermynge, for þis hatful cas
By al lawe þat he vnworþi was
His fadris regne as eyr to possede,
Iustly considrid his horrible dede.
And al attonis, furious and wroth,
With-oute abood vn-to ship he goth,
Malencolyk in his grete tene,
Oute of Crete seiling to Athene,
And toke þe lond oute of shipes bord
Where duke Nestor was gouernour & lord,
Whiche hym receiveth, like a gentil knyȝt,
With al his power, dilligence, and myȝt.
But Menelay, of rancour and gret hete
Gan with þe duke secrely to trete
To fynde a mene in his inwarde siȝt
For to deprive Horestes of his riȝt.
And þer-vp-on to haue a iugement,
At Athenes was holde a parlement
Of þe lordis of þat regioun,
To ȝeve þer-on a diffinicioun,
In whiche was shewed, openly y-nowe,
How Horestes his owne modir slowe,

822

And þe maner of his grete offence,
Hym silf[e] þo beyng in presence.
And whan þis þing he fully dide espie,
For his party he gan ageyn replie,
As he þat felte hym frely at his large,
For hym alleggynge þat he had in charge
Of þe goddis, shortly to declare,
His mortal swerde þat he nat ne spare
Vp-on Clemestra, rote of false tresoun,
Þat slowe hir lord, kyng Agamenoun,
And þe mordre þoruȝ hir malis wrouȝt.
Wherfore Horestes humblely besouȝt
Þe lordes alle, with a manly herte,
Of equite considren and aduerte,
For no malis, rancour, nor for rage
Hym to deprive of his heritage,
Siþen he was sone of Agamenoun,
Borne to ben eyr of þe Regioun,
As ȝe han herd, þat called was Methene,
Al-be his moder, Clemestra þe quene,
Compassid had his destructioun.
But duke Nestor, ymeved of resoun,
In sustenyng of Horestes riȝt,
Roos vp anoon lyk a manly knyȝt,
Offringe him silf proudly for his sake
Þis hiȝe quarel for to vndirtake,
With his body to þe deth darreyne
Wiþ whom þat list his title to with-seyne.
But þer was noon in al þat companye
Þat durste a word a-geyn[e]s him replye,
So hool he stood in his oppinioun.
And by his knyȝtly mediacioun
He bar hym so, feynyng in no þing,
Þat Horestes was [y-]crowned kyng
Of Methene, alle beyng of assent.
And whan dissoluyd was þe parlement,
Þis Horestes of his liges trewe

823

Resseyved was with a crowne newe,
And by trete of lordis many oon
Kyng Menelay & he wer made at oon,
And gan her Ire & her rancour lete.
And Ydumee, þe myȝty kyng of Crete,
So prudently gouerneth þis matere,
Þat Hermyone, þe ȝong[e] douȝter dere
Of Menelay and þe quene Eleyne,
So ȝong, so freshe, of bewte souereyn,
I-wedded was with-oute more tariyng
To Horestes, þe newe lusty kyng.
And by cause of þis allyaunce
Devoided was al rancour and distaunce
Atwene þe kynges, Menelay þe olde
And Horestes, of whom riȝt now I tolde.
Þus leue I hem, as it was þe beste,
Eche in his regne lyve in pes & reste;
For al strif was cessid in þis cas.
But Erygona, þat þe douȝter was
Of Egistus, as ȝe han herd me telle,
For sorwe & drede list no lenger dwelle,
But toke a rope, & liste no þing to spare,
And þer-with-al gan hir silf to gnare,
Þe story seith, hiȝe vp-on a tre:
Þis was hir fyn,—ȝe gete no more of me—
But I wil forþe ceriously entrete
Of þe story to tellen ȝow þe grete.

The wonderfule eskaipis of Vlixes aftire þat he departede fro Troy; and howe he made a soroweful compleynte against fortune to the worshipful kynge, called Ydumye.

O Vlixes, by ordre in my writyng,
Þin aventures commen on þe ring,
Ful wonderful boþe on lond and se,
Entermedlid with grete aduersite!

824

For Guydo, first discrivinge þi repeire,
Seith how þou founde weder foule & faire,
Now agreable, now þe thounder sowne,
Now stille and smothe, now with clowdis frowne,
And seith also, þat þou dedist ordeyne
To þi passage myȝty shippes tweyne,
Apparailled al for marchaundise,
Þat þou myȝtest in most secre wyse
Euery meschef of þe se eskape.
But for al þat þou haddist a fel iape:
For as þis auctor þi resort doþ wryte,
He seith Vlixes, for al his wordis white,
I-robbed was of riches and of good,
Contrarious wynde so a-geyn him stood
Þat he was drive, to his confusioun,
In-to þe myȝty stronge regioun
Where Thelamoun regned by his lyve;
And þere he was hent & take blyve,
Be myȝti hond sesid by þe brest,
And merciles put vnder arest;
For þei him had suspect in werkyng,
Touching þe mordre of þe same kyng.
But he so wrouȝt by his sleiȝti wyle,
And his tale sette in swiche a stile,
Þat hem alle he [pleinly] hath be-iaped,
And fro her hond frely is eskaped—
Except þat he, for al his queynt[e] fare,
Of his tresour was [y-]made ful bare;
And for his passage was to him vnkouþe,
He fil a-geyn in-to þe wolves mouþe:
For, verraily, as it is specified,
Kyng Naulus men han hym eft espied,
Take & bounde & cheyned mercyles,
For þe mordre of kyng Pallamydes.
But þe story reherseth in certeyn,
By his prudence he eskaped is a-geyn,
—For he was boþe expert, wys, & olde—

825

Al-þei þe maner be not fully tolde
Of his eskape, þoruȝ his besy peyne,
Out of daunger of þese kynges tweyne—
Til þoruȝ fortune he cam fro meschef fre
To þe presence of kyng Ydumee
In symple array and torne apparaile.
Wher-of þe kyng gretly gan mervaile
To sen his pouert in so lowe maner;
But for al þat he maked him good cher,—
Þouȝ þilke tyme he were Infortunat,
He hym resseiveth liche to his estat.
And whan þei wern boþe tweyne allone,
In compleynyng Vlixes made his mone
Vn-to þe kyng, as he þat was ful sage,
Ceriously þe sort of his passage,
With face sad and a sobre chere,
Fro point to point, anon as ȝe shal here.
“My lord,” quod he, “shortly to expresse,
Of trust I haue in ȝoure gentilnes,
I shal to ȝow myn aventures alle
Rehersyn her, riȝt as it is falle:
First, whan þat I Troye lond forsook
And þe water with my shippes took,
I was a-noon with wynde pesible blowe
To an yle whiche was to me vnknowe,
Callid Mirma, of gret haboundance;
And al[le] þing þat was to my plesaunce,
Þat may for siluer or for gold be bouȝt,
I redy fonde, & wantid riȝt nouȝt,
And þer abood ful long[e] while in Ioie
With þe tresour þat I gat at Troye,—
My shippes stuffed, my men hool & sounde,
And for commodite of þat ilk[e] grounde,
We lyked so þe contre enviroun,
Þat, for disport and recreacioun,
Oure tariyng þer we þouȝt not longe,

826

For no man dide vn-to vs no wronge.
Til on a day þat þe eyr was stille,
Þe wynde also fully at oure wille,
We seyled forþe in quiete and in pes
Vn-to a port called Clanstafages,
Wher with my meyne long & many day
I fond al þing according to my pay,
—Þe wedir lusty, agreable, and feir—
But who may trust ouþer in wynde or eyr!—
For vp-on feith of þe smoþe skye
Ageyn to ship fast I gan me hye,
Taried nouȝt, but tok anoon þe see,
Smoþe & calm enduring daies þre,
Þat in þe wedir founde was no lak.
But sodeynly þe heuene turned blak,
Þe hydous tempest & þe wawes grene
Oute of hope han me dispeired clene,
Troublid my spirit & made me [so] pensif,
With-oute refut teskape with þe lyf,
Possid & drive by many sondri yle,
Til at þe last, cast vp at Cecyle,
Recuryng lond with gret annoy & peyne,
Wher þilke tyme regned kynges tweyne.
And as I can remembre douteles,
Þe ton of hem called Sorigenes,
Whiche vn-to me ful contrarious was,
And þe toþer named Coclopas,—
Breþren of birþe, and, in conclusioun,
I-lyche cruel of condicioun:
For þouȝ my sort had shape for þe nonys,
Boþe tweyne fil on me attonys,
Oppressing me in ful gret distresse,
Spoiled my shipes of tresour & richesse,
And for no pite liked not to spare,
Til I was left destitut and bare
Of al my good, allas, my mortal chaunce!

827

And most of al was to me grevaunce,
Whan of my gold þei myȝt no more restreyne,
Þei sent doun her myȝti sonys tweyne:
Alipham, þat was ful large & long,
And Polipheme þe myȝti geaunt strong,
Whiche on my men tavenge hem wer so fayn,
Þat þei of hem han an hundred slayn,
Disaraied to stonden at diffence.
And of malys, with sodeyn violence
Þei token me, for meschef almost lorn,
And Alphenor, myn owne broþer sworn,
And hatfully, as þei han vs founde,
In cheynes cast and in stokkys bounde,
And after þat ylokked in presoun.
And for to make platly mencioun,
Þis myȝti man, þis gret[e] Polypheme,
A suster had, shortly for to deme,
Oon þe fairest þat euer ȝit was born—
She myȝt in bewte so be set a-forn,
Nature hir gaf swiche a prerogatyf—
A clene mayde, sothly, & no wyf,
Flouryng boþe in fairnes & bounte,
Whom Alphenor whan he dide se,
Al-be he was fetrid in prisoun,
For loue he lost wit & eke resoun,
And wex al mad, so na[r]we she dide him binde,
—Saue [vp-]on hir alwey was his mynde,
And closid ay was his perlous wounde.
And sixe monþes þus we leie bo[u]nde,
Boþe he & I, to seyn þe plat[te] trouþe,
Til Polypheme had vp-on vs rouþe;
And þoruȝ his grace and mediacioun
He quyt vs fre out of þat prisoun,
And shewed vs, of mercy and pite,
After oure sorwe gret humanite.
But Alphenor, yliche of oon entent,

828

Was with þe brond of Cupide brent,
And felt his part with many mortal fyt,
Til he so wrouȝt by his sotil wyt,
Þat on a nyȝt, who was lef or loþe,
He stale þis mayde, & his weye he goþe,
Þoruȝ help of men with him at þat tyme.
But on þe morwe at þe hour of pryme
Poliphemus gan vs for to sewe,
Whos myȝti hond we myȝt[e] nat eschewe;
And swiche a-saut on vs þei gan make,
Þat of force þei han þe mayde take
From Alphenor, maugre al his rage.
And Polypheme vn-to my damage
With his knyȝtes so sore vp-on me lay,
Þat I myȝt vnneþe eskape a-way
To saue my lyf, compassid enviroun,
To deth purswyd of þat champioun.
But whan I sawe þer was non oþer geyn,
To fle þe deth, shortly for to seyn,
While þis geaunt most fersly on me sette
With my swerd oute his eye I smette;
And vn-to ship with my companye
I fledde in haste, þat no man myȝt espie
Where I be-cam, nor Alphenor my fere.
And whan þe wawes gon[ne] for to clere,
And gracious wynd gan to vs awake,
Þilk contre we han anoon forsake—
It was nat holsom for vs to abide.”
—But of þis man like as writ Ovide,
Poliphemus þe geaunt, out of drede,
Had an eye mydde of his forhede,
Whiche Vlixes smot out at a stroke;
And like þe bowes of a braunchid oke
Was al his heer & his longe berde,—
On whom to loke childer were a-ferd.
And whan þat he had[de] lost his siȝt,
A-monge þe hilles he renneth day & nyȝt,

829

In a rage, to fynde hym som refuge,
Cast[e] roches and grete stones huge
On euery part enviroun þe contre,
On Vlixes avenged for to be.
Þus seith Ovide, in conclusioun,
In his boke of transformacioun—
Methamorphoseos—þer ȝe may it se,
Whan-so-euere þat ȝour leyser be
Ceriously þe story for to rede.
And in writinge forþe I wil procede,
How Vlixes, with face ded and pale,
To Ydumee told[e] forþe his tale,
Rehersyng þus, supprised & a-wapid:
“Fro Polipheme whan we wern eskaped,
Þoruȝ oure vnhap and infelicyte
In-to an yle myddes of þe see
We were dryve, whan it gan to nyȝte;
And Elodium þat litel kyngdam hyȝte,
Wher þat Circes, þe gret enchaunteresse,
Þilke tyme was lady and goddesse,
Þat koude hir craft so wonderly performe,
Al sodeynly a man for to transforme
To haue þe liknes (& lesen his resoun)
Of hors or bere, tigre or lyoun,
Wolf or fox, or what hir list deuise—
Hir dredful craft was shapen in swiche wise,
So myȝti wern hir straunge pociouns,
Her letuarye[s] and confecciouns.
And she also so fair vp-on to se,
Þat fro hir power to man myȝt[e] fle.
For be þe werke of þis sorceresse,
I was so fonned vppon hir fairnesse,
Þat finally þus with me it stood:
Þat al a ȝere I with hir [a]bood,
And pleynly had power noon ne myȝt
For to depart, nouþer day ne nyȝt,

830

So lusti was þe lyf þat I ladde,—
In whiche tyme by me a child she hadde,
Riȝt inly fair & goodly to þe siȝt.”
—And Thelagonivs in sothnes he hiȝt,
Whiche afterward, I [wel] reherse can,
By processe wex a manly man.—
“And be my sotil secre prouidence,
Of hir craft I hadde experience,
Þat maugre hir enchauntementes olde,
I stale a-way—she myȝt[e] me nat holde.
And finally my fate to conclude,
With my konnyng hir craft I gan delude,
Þat with my men I skaped fro her hond
And went at large fre out of hir lond.
But al þis þing me litel dide availe;
For on my way as I gan to saile,
For al my sleiȝt, in a litel while
I blowe was vp in-to an yle
Wher Calypha, suster to Circes,
Was crowned quene, & held her scepter in pes;
Whos craftis wern so myȝty & so strong,
Maugre my wil she held me þer ful long.
But she, in soþe, to speke of wommanhed,
Of bounte, fredam, and of goodlyhed,
Surly had so souereyn excellence,
Þat myn abood to me was noon offence.
But who-so-euere þer-at crye or clappe,
At þe last I skaped fro hir trappe
And cam to an yle, riȝt as any lyne,
Whiche specialy þoruȝ hiȝ power devyne
Ordeyned is of ȝore be myracle,
As it were, a spiritual oracle—
A man to haue in a temple þere
Sodeyn answere of what him list enquere,
Of questiouns and demaundes alle,
And of soule[s] what shal eke be-falle

831

Whan men ar dede & graven vnder stoon.
And I gan axe in þe temple anoon
Myn aventures þat shuld after swe,
And wher a man myȝt his fate eschewe;
And of al þis, lyk to myn entent,
I had answere ful conuenient—
Saue what befalleth whan a soule is goon,
Diffynycioun vn-to me was noon,
Swiche þing tasoile acordeþ nat to riȝt:
It is reserued vn-to Goddes myȝt,
And excedeth resoun & wit of man.
And fro þens forþe to seile I gan,
Dreven with wynde, & no part socoured,
Wher I was lyk to haue be deuourid
Of Caribdis, with his profounde welle,
Where Sirenes, Meremaydnes, dwelle,
Þat fro þe brest, with skalis siluer shene,
Ben of her shap fysches freshe & clene,
And vpper-more, Kynde doth compasse
Hem to apere femynyn of face,
Lyk virgines þat were of nature
With-oute spot, vndefouled pure.
And of custom, in wawis as þei flete,
Þe song of hem is so heuenly swete,
So angelik and ful of armonye,
Þat verrailly þe sugred melodie
Ravisshe wolde any man a-lyve,
Of inly Ioie almost his hert[e] ryue—
Make a man, of sodeyn hiȝe plesaunce,
Forȝete hym silf & lese his remembraunce,
Devoide hym clene from his owne þouȝt,
Til vnwarly he be to meschef brouȝt.
And with her song, or he take kepe,
He shal be brouȝt in a mortal slepe;
And þei anoon—it may not be withdrawe—
Wil drenche his ship lowe vnder þe wawe!

832

Þus þe swetnes of her heuenly soun
Bringeth a man to confusioun—
Who-so-euere by her boundis pace.
But with þe lif I eskaped by grace:
For myn erys with wex & gommys clere
Were stoppid so, þat I ne myȝt[e] here
Touche nor werble of her instrumentis,
Wher-by þe resoun of [a] man y-blent is.
And, finally, þoruȝ my sotilte,
I and my men ben eskapid fre,
Seiling forþe, al mat of werynesse,
Til we cam vp, with ful gret distresse,
At Phenyce, & toke a-noon þe lond,
Cast anker, and oure shippes bond.
But, sothly, þer it fil vs ful vnfaire;
For þe peple, cruel and contraire,
Only of malis fil on me anoon,
And slowe my men almost euerychon;
Tresour & good, litel þat I hadde,
Was me by-raft; and al with hem þei ladde;
And fewe of hem þat wer left alive,
Þei token hem & put in prisoun blyve.
Þus haþ Fortune lad me on her daunce
With litel Ioie and plente of meschaunce,
Of whos daunger lerned and expert,
I am falle in meschef and pouert;
And with gret dool & sorwe ful my brest,
On se and londe, by souþe & nat by est
I am com vn-to ȝoure presence,
And haue declared pleinly in sentence
Myn auentures to ȝoure worþinesse,
Of trust only and of feithfulnesse
Þat I haue to ȝow in special.
And now I haue rehersid & told al
To ȝoure hiȝnesse in my best[e] wyse,
With-oute more—to me it doth suffise.”

833

Of þe grete comforte that kynge Ydumeus shewed to Vlyxes; and howe kynge Alpheon, for his grete wysdam, ressavyd hym worshipfully, and conveyed hym to his kyngdam.

And þauȝ in hert he was constreyned sore,
Þilk[e] tyme Vlixes spak no more,
But held his pes, ful hevy in lokyng.
And Ydumeus lik a gentil kyng
Counforted hym al þat euere he myȝt,
And besy was his hert[e] for to liȝt,
And hym besouȝt his heuynes[se] lete,
And as long as hym list in Crete
With hym abide,—he made hym surete
He shuld[e] faren also wel as he,
And nat want of what may do him ese.
And whan his sorwe som-what gan apese,
Þat his rage drow vn-to an ende,
Leue he toke, & seide he wolde wende
Oute of þat londe home to his contre.
But first þe kyng, of fredam & bounte,
Ȝaf vn-to hym gret riches and array,
And what-so-euere was vn-to his pay,
Gold, tresour, & many oþer þinges;
And at þe partynge of þese tweyne kynges
Þere wer shippes whan him list to saile,
Redy stuffid with meyne and vitaile.
And þus Vlixes gan hym redy make;
And whan he haþe his leue fully take,
He hasted hym & toke anoon þe se,
And gan saile toward his contre.
But first he went to kyng Alphenoun,
Whiche passingly hadde affeccioun
To sen Vlixes at his home-comyng,
And desirous ouer al[le] thing
To han of hym newly aqueyntaunce:

834

For vn-to hym was inly gret plesaunce
To here hym talke, for his elloquence,
For his wysdam & his hiȝe prudence
And þer he was, after al his smert,
Receyved pleinly with a[s] glad [an] hert
As euere ȝit was any maner man
Siþen tyme þat þe world be-gan;
And to encres of his Felicite,
Þer herd he first of Penolope,
His trewe wyf, with-oute spot or blame,
Of whom ȝit grene is þe noble fame,
Whiche from hir lord, for al his long absence,
In þouȝt nor dede nevir dide offence,
But sothly was, boþe in chere & dede,
Þoruȝ-oute Grece example of wommanhede.
And ȝit was she, as bokes list expresse,
Þoruȝ-oute þe world merour of fairnes,
And among Grekis born of hiȝest blood,
Called of auctours boþe fair and good;
And ȝit seyn bokes of hir, douteles,
Was neuer noon þat had so gret pres,
But she hir kepte, chaunging for no newe,
Vn-to hir lord euere I-liche trewe,
Of hert [ay] oon, nat partid in-to tweyne,
Þat she is called quene & souereyne
Of wyfly trouþe in þis bokis olde.
And oft, I fynde, hir hert[e] wold[e] colde,
She turne pale for hir lord so ferre,
In hir closet to heren of þe werre,
Of drede she had, & for fere eke quake,
Of fantasies for hir lordes sake;
For his absence, boþe eve & morwe,

835

Was deth to hir & importable sorwe.
And ay, in sothe, for Ioie or any game,
Whan it fel she herd Hectoris name,
In any place anoon she fil a-swowne,
And gan hir silf al in teris drowne,
Of wommanhed so she was a-ferde
To here þe slauȝter of his mortal swerde,
List hir lord, of knyȝtly surquedie,
Hadde of fortune falle in iupartye,
Of hap or sort tamet þat worþi knyȝt,
Þat selde or neuer she felt hir hert[e] liȝt.
And many a dreme a-nyȝtes dide hir gaste,
Al þe while þat þe sege laste;
And euery play was venym in hir siȝt,
Whan þat she was from hir owne knyȝt:
For in þis world she had Ioie noon
Of hiȝe nor lowe, pleinly, but of oon,
For whos sake al myrþe she refuseth.
And who-so be þat in his hert[e] museth
Of any womman any þing but good,
Of malencolye mevid in his blood,
Lat hym aduerte of wisdam and [y-]se,
And remembre on Penolope,
For his decert list þat he be blamyd!
And, o Guydo, þou shuldest ben ashamed
To seyn of wyves any þing but wele:
For, in good feith, as fer as I can fele,
Þouȝ oon or two do among offence,
She þat is good þoruȝ hir prouidence
Is þer-of no þing for to wyte.
And þouȝ Guydo in his boke endite
Þe variaunce of Eleyne or Cryseyde,
Or Medea, þat for sorwe deyde,
Lete þer ageyn, of riȝt and equite,
Þe wyfly trowþe of Penolope,
Þe maydenhed of ȝong[e] Policene,

836

And þe goodnes of Eccuba þe quene,
Of Cassandra eke þe stedfastnes,—
And with al þis, take þe kyndenes
Of Pantasile, with-oute variaunce,
And put al þis to-gidre in balaunce,
And ȝe shal fynde, ȝif ȝe list acounte,
Maugre who grucchiþ, trouth[e] shal surmounte,—
I dar aferme—& bere a-weye þe pris:
Þer wil no man replie þat is wys,—
He were to feble in his oppinioun!
And while Vlixes was with Alphenoun,
It was to hym made relacioun
Of an hatful conspiracioun,
Þat certeyn lordis enviroun his contre
Ravisshe wolde his quene Penolope,
Maugre alle þo þat were þer ageyn,
Al-be þat she was euere I-like pleyn,
In hir trouþe stidefast as a wal.
Ȝet þei haue cast, pleynly, þat she shal
Be take of force, it may nat be eschewed,
But it so be in haste she be reskewed:
For þei hem cast þe tyme nat aiourne;
For day and nyȝt with hir [þei] soiourne,
Inly in herte for loue disamaied.
But of wisdam she haþe hem so delaied,
Þat þer was noon so manly nor so sage,
Þat koude of hir geten avauntage,
So avise she was in hir wirkyng.
And whan Vlixes conceyved al þis þing,
And fully knewe by open evidence,
And also [had] in special credence
Sent vn-to hym fro Penolope,
Þe mater hool declaringe in secre,
His owne sone Thelamonevs,
He wexe in herte wood and furious,

837

And wolde make no delacioun,
But in al haste besouȝte Alphenoun,
Þe myȝti kyng, of his hiȝ bounte
To releue hym in his aduersite,
And þat he wold þoruȝ his myȝti hond
Of gentilnes conveye hym to his lond.
He graunteþ hym & seiþ nat onys nay;
And boþe two in ful gret array
Taken þe se whan þe wynd was good;
Wel fortuned, for no þing hem with-stood,
Þei be arived & hadde no lettyng,
Wher Vlixes, as ȝe han herd, was kyng.
And secrely a-nyȝt þei wer conveied
To hem þat han his ligaunce disobeied;
And merciles, or þei myȝt a-wake,
In her beddes þei han hem alle take,
Makyng noon prolongyng til þe morwe,
But in al hast, for no wyȝt durst hem borwe,
Smet of her hedes by iugement final
And set hem vp on þe castel wal,
Eueryche by oþer endelong þe rowe,
Vp-on þe hour whan þe cok gan crowe.
And þus al nyȝt þei kept hem silf[e] cloos,
Til þat Phebus meryly aroos
In þe orient, whan þe larke song;
And þo þis kynges with her meyne strong,
Freshely beseyn, entre þe cite.
Who was þo glad but Penolope!
Who made Ioie but þis goodly quene,
Ful desirous hir owne lorde to sene!
But ȝif I shulde al in ordre sette,
Þe grete myrþe þei made whan þei mette,—
Make rehersaile of compleintes olde,
And how þei gan her hertes to vnfolde
Eche to oþer, and list no þing concele,

838

And þe gladnes þat þei inly fele,—
Ȝif I shulde put al in memorie,
Þe reioisshinge and þe hertly glorie
Þat his liges made at his comynge,
Þe costis eke þei hadde at his metynge,
Þe ȝiftes grete and presentis riche,
—In al þis world, I trow[e], noon I-liche—
It were to long tariyng for my boke!—
And how þat he newe assuraunce toke
Of his lordis and his liges alle,
And how þat þei to his grace falle,
Þe chere he made eke to Alphenoun
Of gentilnes þoruȝ his hiȝe renoun,
And how þe douȝter, inly debonaire,
Of Alphenoun, Nausia þe faire,
By Vlixes mediacioun
I-wedded was vn-to Thelamoun,
Born by discent—þer may no man say nay—
To reioisshe his crowne after his day:
And þus cam in by his purviaunce
Of two regnes þe myȝti alliaunce,—
And how al þis brouȝt was to þe knotte,
Men wolde deme me pleinly to sotte,
To presume of oppinioun
For to delate a descripcioun,
Siþen Guydo, touching but þe chef
In þis mater, of stile was but bref,
Shortly rehersing how kyng Alphenoun
Repeired is hom to his regioun,
And Vlixes in his chefe cite
Abood stille with Penolope,
Where I hym leue in Ioie and in solace
Til Antropos likeþ to purchace
For to ficche finally þe date,
Þe thred [to] vntwyne of his lyues fate.

839

Howe Pirrus, the sonn of Achilles, scleughe Menalippus and Polistines, sonnes to Atastus, which kept kenge Pelle out of his kyngdam, to þe which Pirrus restoryd him ageyne.

Now mvste I ful besy ben a whyle,
To directe þe tracis of my stile
In discryving, shortly of entent,
Þe stok of Pirrus by lyneal discent,
Myn auctor folwe & be compendious—
Whos olde fader hiȝte Pelleus,
His granmoder called Thetides,
Of whiche two cam worþi Achilles,
Þat at Troye by tresoun lost his lyf;
And Dardanya called was his wyf,
Pirrus moder, & douȝter, as I rede,
Vn-to þe kyng called Lycomede,
Havyng a fader þat Atastus hiȝte,
Whiche, in sothnes, al þat euere he myȝt
Bare heuy herte to kyng Pelleus,
To Achilles and also to Pirrus,—
To al þe kyn, pleinly, on þat side.
And of malis, rancour, & of pride,
And of envie in an hatful rage,
Whan Pelleus falle was in age
He beraft hym boþe septer and crowne,
And from his se lowe aliȝte him downe;
And in-to exile, availle may no stryf,
He made hym go with Thetides his wif,
Of hiȝe disdeyn,—geyne may no grace,—
And in his hert gan day & nyȝt compasse
Þe deth of Pirrus,—kepe him ȝif he can!—
And þer-vp-on maliciously began
To shape a way, by await liggynge
Hym for to slen at his home comynge.
But þis Pirrus, from his treynes fre,
Many daunger eskaped of þe se,

840

Many wawe and many tempest wood,
With gret[e] los boþe of men and good,
At Malasus aldirfirst gan londe,
A strong cite a litel fro þe stronde,
Wher þat he was refreshed wonder wel.
And þer he knewe grounde & euerydel,
First of þe exile, like as men hym tolde,
Of Thetides and Pelleus þe olde,
And how Atastus bar to hym hatrede
Vn-to þe deth; wher-of he gan drede,
And þouȝt he wolde, as he þat was riȝt wys,
Be som engyn eschewen his malys,
And þer-vp-on don his besy peyne.
Now hadde Atastus oþer sonys tweyne,
Menalippus and Polistenes,
And a douȝter called Thetides.
And al þis while woful Pelleus,
In a castel olde and ruynous,
With Thetides, ful of sorwe and care,
For drede of deth day & nyȝt gan dare,
Dis[es]peired in his vnweldy age
Recur to finde of þis mortal rage,
Except þat he had an hope of ȝore
Þat Pirrus shuld help him and restore
At his repeir, whan-so þat it falle—
After whos comyng often he gan calle,
Þe tyme curse þat he so long abood.
But whan Pirrus al þis vndirstood
At Malasus by relacioun,
Ful faste he gan haste oute of þe toun,
Toke þe se and faste gan hym hyȝe
Toward þe lond called Thesalye,
Of entent to maken ordinaunce
On Atastus for to do vengaunce.
But aldirfirst, þis Pirrus ful prudent,
Espies tweyne he to-forn hath sent

841

To Thesalye forþe to-gidre goon;
And Crilippus called was þe ton,
And Adrastus named was his fere—
Þei wern expert, hem nedeth nat to lere.
In whos expleit, to more avauntage,
Þis Pirrus haþe direct his message
Of Thesalye to a citeȝeyn
Called Assandrus, a maner chamberleyn
With Pelleus, and whilom ful secre
While he was flouringe in felicite.
And whan Pirrus, in conclusioun,
Knewe al þe sothe by relacioun,
On se nor lond hym ne list to tarie,
Al-be þat he fond þe wynde contrarie;
But he, eskaped many dredful stoundis,
Of Thesalye aprocheþ to þe boundis:
For Eolus hath his lust obeied,
And, of fortune wonderly conveied,
He driven was, as it wer, by grace
To ariven in þe same place
Wher Pelleus in a doolful cave
For drede of deth lay hym silf to saue,
Soule saue his wyf, with-outen any feris,
Al enclosed with busshes and with breris.
And Pirrus þer went vp first to londe,
Sool by hym silf walkyng on þe stronde,
Pensif and trist, and his weye toke
Where Pelleus in þe caue quoke,
Hauyng with hym þo noon oþer guyde
Saue his swerd hangynge by his syde.
And vnwarly, with a dredful hert,
Pelleus oute of þe caue sterte
Disamayed, of his lyf in doute,
Whan he behelde a knyȝt þere walke aboute,
And astonyd abood & stood ful stille,
Imaginynge þat he sawe Achille,
By þis Pirrus stondyng in þe place,

842

By alle þe signes shewid in his face:
For nature, with-oute variaunce,
Made hem so lik of chere & contenaunce,
Of forme, of shap, and lymys euerychon,
Þat difference in effect was noon.
And Pelleus, with-oute lenger space,
Gan anoon Pirrus to enbrace,
And abraide oute of his dedly þouȝt,
And for Ioie sette al his sorwe at nouȝt;
And gan to hym by & by declare
Boþe his exile and his euele fare,
His pitous lyf, his pouert & meschaunce,
And Fortunys fals[e] variaunce,
And of Adastus þe feruent hoot envie,
Þe cruelte and þe tyranye—
Ceriously he told Pirrus al.
And he, ful sobre, stood stille as a wal.
With face pale and in hert[e] wroth,
Specheles to ship a-geyn he gooth;
And þer [he] was informed, dout[e]les,
Þat Menalippus and Polistenes
And Adastus, to-gidre alle þre,
With huge array and a gret meyne
Þe same day, ful surquedous of pride,
Hunte a forest, a litel þere beside.
And whan Pirrus þer-of toke good hede,
With-oute a-bood chaunge gan his wede,
Ful porely, rent, and disarayed,
—Liche a man þat were for þouȝt dismaied—
Girt with his swerde, made no delay,
But to þe forest toke þe ryȝt[e] way,
Sool by hym silf, with-oute companye,
So secrely þat no man myȝt espie.
And as he drewe many diuers boundis,
He herd[e] hornes & vncouplyng of houndis;

843

And, like a man þat list make his mone
Fro siȝt of folke, he drewe him ay allone.
And, casuely disseuered fro þe pres,
First he mette with Polistenes,
Menalippus ridyng by his side;
And boþe two on Pirrus gan abide,
And boistously of hym to enquere
Fro whens he cam & also what he were,
So febly clad and of so pore estate,
Walkyng þere as he were disolat.
And lowly he of chere & contenaunce,
Stille and humble in his dalliaunce,
Answerid ageyn, & seyde how þat he
Fordriven was with meschef of þe se,
And affermyd, pale & no þing red,
His felaship drowned was and ded—
Fyve hundrid—þe wawes were so rage—
Of olde & ȝonge and of mydel age—
And he eskaped—þe tempest was so rif,
As he hem tolde,—vnneþe with þe lyf.
And, ouer-more, he tolde hem platly eke,
Towching his birþe, þat he was a Greke,
And went[e] þer, destitut of Ioie,
Late comen fro þe sege of Troye,
And besouȝt hem toward his lyving
To helpen hym with som refreshing,
As hym þat had catel loste and good,
Like as þei sawe naked how he stood,
Praiyng also, in hope it shulde availe,
Hym to releue with cloþing or vitaile,
To his refut sumwat to prouide.
And þei bad hym þat he shuld abide;
For þei wil wit, pleynly, what he can.
And þilk[e] whyle be-sides hem þer ran
A ful gret hert doun by þe riuer;
And Menalippus priked his courser,

844

As hym sempte it was to hym dewe,
Þoruȝ þinne & þikke only to purswe
He spareth nat, but alweye after rood;
And his broþer with Pirrus stille abood—
Polistenes—and toke of it noon hede,
But in al haste a-liȝte fro his stede,
On þe grene to reste hym þer beside,
As he þat was wery for to ryde,
With-oute meyne beyng hym silf[e] sool,
Lestynge of Pirrus þe compleint & þe dool.
But sodeynly, or he myȝt aduerte,
Cruel Pirrus ran hym to þe herte,
And left hym ded, lyggynge on þe plein.
Whan Menalippus repeired was ageyn,
Seynge his broþer baskyng in his blood,
And Pirrus eft, furious and wood,
With a face of colour pale and wan,
To Menalippus in his ire ran,
And slowe hym eke, or þat he toke hede.
And þus þei laie on þe grounde & blede,
Þe breþer two, with Pirrus swerd I-slawe.
And he anon aside gan hym drawe,
Metyng a knyȝt, wer it of sort or cas,
As seith þe story, called Cynaras,
Of whom Pirrus gan in hast enquere,
Whos man he was or what he dide [t]here;
And he answered, & made no tariynge,
He was servaunte with þe myȝti kyng
Called Atastus, lord of þat contre.
And Pirrus þo, of dedly enmyte,
With cruel swerde, al freshe & red of blod,
Ran hym þoruȝ-oute, as any lyoun wood.
And after þat þe forest he forsoke,
And in al hast þe riȝt[e] weye he toke
To ship ageyn, pale & blak of hewe,

845

And gan anon to araie hym newe,
Al in purpil, whiche, as clerkes telles,
Is for kynges & for no wyȝt elles.
And þanne Pirrus, freshe & wel be-seyn,
To þe forest repeired is ageyn,
Wher sodeynly of hap in his walkyng
In short while he mette with þe kyng,
Old Atastus, þat asked of Pirrus,
“What man art þou, [þat] be þi silf[e] þus
Walkest þus [here] al day to and fro?”
“Certes,” quod Pirrus, “ful of sorwe & wo,
Inly supprisid of hertly compleynyng,
Oon of þe sonys of Priamus þe kyng
I was whilom, put oute of memorie,
Whan þat Troye floured in his glorie,
Now refutles, in-to meschef brouȝt,
I walke sool, ful of care & þouȝt,
Fer in exile oute of Troie toun,
With cruel Pirrus to lyven in presoun,
Bounde vn-to hym, þouȝ me be ful loth,
Myn hond assured with many ful gret oth
Tobeye his lust in captiuite—
Lo, here is al,—þus it stant with me!”

Howe Atastus enquyred of Pirrus if he knewe ought of Pirrus governance, and Pirrus made him a synge to þe Cave wher Pelle was, to thentent to scley hym in lokenge thidere.

Atastus þo, of entencioun,
After many oþer questioun,
Enquered of hym in his daliaunce,
Ȝif he knewe ouȝt of Pirrus gouernaunce,
Or ȝif þat he koude ouȝt vnderstonde
Wher he hym kepte sith he cam to londe.
“I-wis,” quod he, “ȝif ȝe list hym haue,

846

He kepiþ hym cloos in þe ȝonder cave
Amonge bruskaile with a shrouded face,”—
Makyng a signe to þe same place.
And al was doon for an ydel maȝe:
For while þe kyng þedirward gan gaȝe,
Hasti Pirrus gan his swerd oute drawe
In purpos ful Atastus to haue slawe;
But wonderly, þe story can ȝow lere,
Quene Thetides dide anoon appere,
Al be-reyned with terys on hir face,
And gan þe swerd of Pirrus to embrace,
Preiyng him his dedly hond restreyne.
“Hastow nat slayn my ȝong[e] breþer tweyne?—
And now, allas! my fader, hoor and gray,
Merciles fro me wilt take a-way?
Put vp þi swerde! & no blood ne shede!
And haue pite vp-on þi kynrede,
And aduerte clerly to þe fyn,
How þou art come of þe same lyne,
And hatful is, who-so loke a-riȝt,
Vnkynde blood in euery mannys siȝt.”
And Pirrus þo, as any tigre wroþe,
Gan afferme, with many ful gret oþe,
Þat who-so grucche or a-geyn[e]s pleyne,
He shal hym sleen with his hondis tweyne:
“For hath nat he be fals extorcioun
Put Pelleus oute of his regioun,
Whiche is ȝour lord, & ȝe his trewe wif?—
Þat finally he shal lese his lyf,
And here anoon of myn hondis deye;—
In þis mater þer is no more to seye.”
But Pelleus, darynge in þe cave,
Of grace only list his lif to saue—
Al oþer help platly is for nouȝt.
And Pelleus was anoon forþe brouȝt,
Croked & olde, vnweldy eke to se,
And to-fore Pirrus fil doun on his kne,

847

Beseching hym with a pitous face
At his request taken hym to grace,
And þat he wold in his manly herte
Goodly considre þe dedly wo & smerte
Of Atastus, and þe mortal peyne
Þat he hadde for his sonys tweyne,
Whiche laie ded to-forn hym on þe grene,
“Slayn with ȝour swerde þat is so sharp & kene,
Whiche he ne may recuren in no wyse,
Þe sorwe of whiche ouȝt I-now suffyse,
Þouȝ ȝe on hym do no more vengaunce:
Al þis peised iustly in balaunce;
Sith he is hooly submitted to ȝour myȝt,
Takeþ now hym to merci anoon riȝt,
And late ȝoure swerd his age not consume—
Þis my request, as I dar presume.”
And þanne Pirrus, shortly for to seyn,
Whan he hadde put vp his swerd ageyn,
Seynge merci myȝt[e] most availe,
With-oute wordis or any rehersaile,
First of al, to-forn hem euerychon,
Þe kynges made accorden in-to oon,
By his wisdam, concluding vp in dede,
Þat eche of hem shulde his riȝt possede
In Thesalye, parted in-to tweyne,
Þat nouþer hadde mater to compleyne,
Eueryche to regne in his dewe se.
And while þei were to-gidre alle þre,
Oute of presence of any oþer man,
Atastus first þus his tale gan:

Howe Atastus resygnede his parte of the kyngdam of Thesalye to his cosyne Pirrus.

“Sirs,” quod he, “to ȝow is nat vnknowe
How þoruȝ age now I am brouȝt lowe,

848

And þoruȝ naturis kyndly mocyoun
Am wexe feble of wyt and [of] resoun,
Beyng vnweldy of my lymes alle
—So many ȝeris arn vp-on me falle—
And can vneþe any þing discerne,
To feble, in soth, a kyngdam to gouerne,
Of lyf nor deth takyng now noon hede,
Sith my sonys slay[e]n ben and dede,
And sool am left now with-oute eyr,
Of worldly lust fully in dispeir,
Þe tyme passed of my felicite.
Fortunys turne with mvtabilite
Hath tauȝt me, pleinly, I dar it wel expresse,
In worldly Ioie is no sikernesse,
Nor verray trust no while to abide;
But I wil now for my silf prouide,
And in al hast, by prudent puruyaunce,
Me discharge of al gouernaunce—
Ageyn my sort me list not maligne;
But septer & crowne frely I resigne,
Of Thesalye lordshipe & eke lond
Of my fre wil hool in-to þin hond,—
Þer schal no man reclayme nor seye nay,
Interupte nor make no delay
Touching þis þing, by no collusioun,
For I þe putte in pocessioun.”
And, here-vp-on, of al þat euere he seide
Makyng ful feith, his hond in his he leide,
Quene Thetides sittyng þere present.
And Pelleus, of þe same entent,
Vn-to Pirrus for his purpa[r]tye
Resigned eke þe riȝt of Thesalye,
Fully affermyng þat of ȝore a-go
His ful desire and his Ioie also
Was euere in oon his nevew to succede,
As riȝtful eyr his kyngdam to possede,

849

“And outerly, with-oute repentaunce,
Al þat longeþ [vn-]to my lig[e]aunce,
Septer & swerd, crowne & diademe,
So as a kyng lyf and deth to deme,
In-to þin hond, with-oute lenger date,
Þis same houre hooly I translate.”
And whan þe knotte of þis conuencioun
Was fully brouȝt to conclusioun,
Parformyd vp hool þe vnite
For euermore, atwen þese kynges þre,
Atastus knyȝtes, disseuered enviroun,
Oute of þe forest be descended doun,
And be bidding, platly, of her lord
Þei were echon sworn to þis acord.
And attonis þis lusti companye
To Thesalye fast[e] gan hem hiȝe;
And Pirrus folke, ligginge on þe se,
Be seiled forþe, streit to þe cite.
And Atastus doth sette a parlement,
Where openly he gaf commaundement
Þat alle his liges, of hiȝe or lowe estat,
With-oute strif or any more debate,
Specially of gentil blod y-born,
Þe same day to Pirrus to be sworn
Like her degres in þe royal halle,
To perseuere his trew[e] liges alle
Durynge her lyf, for ernest or for game.
And Pelleus commaunded haþe þe same
For his parti, with-outen any fraude.
And þus with Ioie & solemne laude,
Pirrus was of euery maner age
Gladly accepted to his heritage.
And on a day fortunat and good,
With glad aspectus whan þe heuene stood,
Wel according to swiche maner þing,
Worþi Pirrus was y-crowned kyng

850

Of Thesalye, þe riche regioun—
It were but veyn to make mencioun
Of her reuel ne her gret array,
Nor of þe fest made þe same day,
Eke in þe story I fynde it nat, in soth.
I wyl passe ouer as myn auctor doth—
Saue in his boke it is specefied
Þat þe kyngdam was fer magnified
Of Thesalye by þe grete myȝt
Of þis Pirrus, whilom so good a knyȝt,
Where I leue hym in his royal se,
Tournyng agayn to kyng Ydumee,
Whiche in þis while was graue vnder stoon.
And after hym, his sone Mereoun,
Þe story seith, was crownyd king of Crete;
But a while regnyng in quyete,
He deide also—it wold[e] be noon oþer.
And þanne anon Leorica, his broþer,
As riȝtful eyr be successioun
Was crowned kyng of þat regioun,
In whiche tyme Atastus, out of drede,
By þassent of Pirrus, as I rede,
Ful besi was to make in special
A riche toumbe, passyngly royal,
Where buried wern with ful huge pres
Menalippus and Polistenes,
Boþe two in þe forest slawe
Þoruȝ Pirrus swerde, be ful cruel lawe—
Of hem can I noon oþer processe make,
But euene her fully my leve I take
Of hem boþe, and also eke yfere
Of Atastus, her owne fader dere,
Of whom, sothly, for al his lokkes hore,
In Troye boke rede I can no more.
But now mvst I ageyn to Pirrus wende,
To write of hym þe sory woful ende,

851

Whiche, whan he sat hiȝest in his se,
Made ful blind with veyn prosperite,
Gouernyng þe lond of Thesalye,
He falsly fil in-to a fantasie
To sette his loue on Hermyon þe quene,
Horestes wyf, regnynge in Methene,
For whom he brent hoot as any fyre.
And in fulfillyng of his foule desire,
His purpos hool þus he brouȝt aboute:
Hir rauyssynge whil hir lord was oute,
Lad hir hoom & hilde hir as his wyf,
Semyng to hym it was a blisful lyf
And ful reles of his peynes smerte.
Of whiche Horestes bar ful hevy herte,
And cast hym pleynly avengid for to be
Whan he may haue opportunyte;
For þilk[e] tyme, þouȝ he had[de] wrong,
He was to feble & Pirrus was to strong.
Whiche held also, in stori it is tolde,
Andronomeca with hym in housholde,
Hectoris wyf, by whom whylom she had
A litel child, whiche with hir she lad—
Þe sege complet and destruccioun—
Whan she was brouȝt out of Troye toun:
Lamedonta, I fynde, was his name,
Encresyng after to ful worþi fame.
And by Pirrus she had a sone also
Called Achilleydos, so as writ Guydo;
And þis wommen, for al hir gret estate,
Atwen hem silf amonge wern at debate:
And Hermonye, in hir Ire al hoot,
In compleynyng to hir fader wrot
Þat hir fere, for al hir hiȝe degre,
Andronomeca was cherisshed bet þan she
Of kyng Pirrus, besechyng Menelay
Tenhasten hym, in al þat euere he may,
Come hym silf anoon þat it were do,

852

To sle þis woman & hir childe also.
And he bood nat, but faste gan him hiȝe,
In an hete, towarde Thesalye
To be venged with his swerde of stele
Vp-on hir þat trespasseþ neuer-a-dele.
But maugre hym, in al his cruelte,
She was reskewed myd of þe cite.
It is a þing whiche haþ nat ben herd:
To a womman a kyng to drawe his swerd—
I wil no more in þis mater dwelle,
In maner shamed it to write or telle.

How Cruelly kynge Horrestes, in the Tempylle of Appollo within the Ille of Delos, scleugh Pirrus, for that he had ravisshede quene Hermone, his wyff, and here kept in avoutreye.

But þis was doon while Pirrus of corage
To Delos was goon on pilgrymage,
Havyng with hym but a litel rout,
To Appollo to knelen & to loute,
For þe soule to preyen of Achille,
And his avowes also to fulfille,
And þanken hym with humble affeccioun
Of good expleit he had at Troye toun,
And for wreche, also, þat was take
At þe cite for his faderis sake.
But al þis þing here y-specified
Kyng Horestes warly hath espied,
And to Delos gan hasten him ful riȝt,
Ledyng with hym many lusty knyȝt;
And vnwarly he with Pirrus mette,
And vengably vp-on hym he sette,
Þat finally in þat straunge londe
Horestes slow hym with his owne hond.

853

I fynde, in soth, he made no diffence,
So sodeyn was þe mortal violence
Of his enmy, he koude nat asterte:
For or þat he myȝt his swerd aduerte,
He was on hym enviroun al be-set,
Þilke tyme it myȝt[e] be no bet;
For þer was nouþer socour nor declyn.
Þus was Pirrus brouȝt vn-to his fyn,
Late crowned kyng of Thesalye.
Lo, here þe guerdoun of avout[e]rie!
Lo, how þe mede and reward is ful rif,
To mysuse anoþer mannys wyf!
It is no drede, folowe shal vengaunce,
Sodeyn deth, or vnwar meschaunce,
Whiche euery man gretly ouȝte charge.
And in Delos in a temple large
Kyng Pirrus was lokked vnder stoon;
And Horestes forthe his weie is goon,
And by force gat his wyf ageyn—
Þer was no wyȝt durste hym þo with-seyn—
And to Methene proudly is repeired.
And Thesalye, pitously dispeired,
Destitut, as þei þat can no red,
Whan þei wist her worþi kyng was ded—
And eyr was noon, by successioun
To gouerne þat noble regioun
Saue Achilleydos, þat but litel a-forn
In Pirrus abscence was in Grece born,
Fully of age nat a quarter clene:
Þe ȝouþe of whom, sothly, was to grene,
Who liste considre, & to tendre of myȝt,
Ful many day, to reioishe his riȝt,
And to gouerne with septer in his hond
Þe large boundis of so gret a lond.
And ȝit þis child, likly and riȝt faire,
In verray soth was born to ben eyre

854

After Pirrus: þis is þe trouth[e] pleyn—
Þer was no man þat list it with-seyn.
But, I fynde, whan he cam to age
He resigned hool his herytage
To his broþer frely and his riȝt—
Lamedonte, a wonder manly knyȝt,
Þat was discendid of Troianysshe blood,
Doun fro þe stook of hym þat was so good,
Flour of knyȝthod, diffence of Frigia,
Þat hym begat on Andronomeca—
Ordeyned now, who-so gruche or frowne,
Of Thesalye for to bere þe crowne.
And whan he was made lord of þat lond,
And al was frely resigned to his hond,
He hath comaunded, no man dar replie,
Þoruȝ þe kyngdam of al Thesalye,
Þat alle þat wern in captiuite
Or prisoners of Troye þe cite,
For loue or hate, excepcioun was noon,
Þat alle shulde at her large goon,
By ful assent of Achilleydos;
And swiche as wern eke in presoun cloos,
With-oute raunsoun shal deliuered be,
And reioisshe þe fulle liberte
By custom vsid, boþe in borwe & toun,
Of þe liges of þat regioun.
And þus þe folke þat cam þral fro Troye
Restored ben sodeinly to Ioie
By Lamedonte, and I-maked fre.
And he eke regned in his royal se
Ful myȝtely, as I haue made mynde;—
In Troye boke no more of hym I finde,
Nor of Pirrus, nor of his kynred.
Fro hens forþe I can no processe rede,
But incidentes þat bere no substaunce,
Whiche were but veyn to put in remembrance,

855

—Except myn auctor, I not to what entent,
Here Impeth in a litel incident
I-wrouȝt & doon of ful ȝore a-goon,
Touching þe deth of þe kyng Menon,
Whiche be envie of cruel Achilles
Was slawe, in soth, among Mirundones,
Only for he proudly gan purswe
Vp-on Achilles Troylus to reskwe.
Whom kyng Priam made buried be
Beside Troylus in Troye þe cite,
In a temple y-bilt of marbil olde.

Howe quene Menone, longe aftire that she dyed, kam to þe towmbe of here husbonde, & karide away his bones.

And to what fyn [þat] þis tale is tolde,
In þis chapitle I shal reherse anoon:
Þe noble quene of þis kyng Menon,
After þe tyme long & many day
Þat she was ded & grauen vnder clay,
At hys toumbe heuenly gan appere
Al be-set with briȝt[e] sterris clere,
Whos similitude, for to rekne al,
Was lyke a þing þat were immortal,
Þat no man myȝt outterly sustene
To beholde,—of lok she was so shene,—
Doun discendyng fro þe firmament,
Ful many man being þere present,
Clad in a mantel ful celestial,
And of hir port passingly royal,
With swet[e]nes freshe as any rose,—
Made in al haste þe toumbe to vnclose
Of hir lord, & takeþ oute þe bonys,
And in a cheste made of gold & stonys

856

She couched hem, as fast as euer she may,
Disapered, & wente anoon hir way.
And to-for þat nor after, in certeyn,
In þilke place she was neuer seyn.
Somme affermyng, as by liklynes,
She was ouþer aungel or goddes,
Þe soule or fate of þe same kyng—
I can not deme in swiche heuenly þing,
Nor þer-in holde noon oppinioun,
For it transcendeth, shortly, my resoun.
And me list nat in swiche mater diffyne,
But resort riȝt as any lyne
To Vlixes, & a while dwelle,
Of his ende þe surplus for to telle,
And how þat he myȝt[e] nat eskape
Þe parodye, þat was for hym shap;
For Parchas han his laste terme set,
And Antropos mesured oute & met
His lyues þrede, on þe rokke sponne.
Defende þi silf, Vlixes, ȝif þou konne!
Shewe þi manhod, & be nat afferde,
And be wel war of þi sonys swerde!
For I shal now, lyk as I am wont,
Sharpen my penne, boþe rude & blont,
To descryue þe fyn of þi soiour,
Vp-on þe boundis set of my labour:
For almost wery, feint & waike I-now
Be þe bestes & oxes of my plow,
Þe longe day ageyn þe hil to wende.
But almost now at þe londes ende
Of Troye boke, ficche I wil a stake,
Saue I mote spende a fewe lines blake
Þe laste chapitle shortly to translate
Of al þis werke, and ympen in þe date
Of þilke day deth sette on hym arest,
Ful execute by hym he louede best.

857

Of A wonderful dreme that kynge Vlyxes had, and þe last in his days, which was a[ss]ingede by his clerkes, that one next of his blode shulde gyve hym his dethes wounde.

Lowe on my knees now I muste loute
To þilk[e] god þat makeþ men to route,
And causeth folke to haue glad[e] swevenes,
Boþe at morwe & on lusti evenes,
Whan Morpheus, with his slepi wond,
Whiche þat he holdeth alweie in his hond,
Hath marked hem a-geyn þe dirke nyȝt,
To maken men boþe mery and lyȝt,
And somwhile for to han gladnes,
And sodeynly to falle in hevynes,
Lik as to hem he ȝeveth euydence
By sondry signes in his apparence.
Vn-to þat lord now moste I mekely preie,
At þis tyme my stile to conveye
Of Vlixes þe dreme to discrive,
Þe laste of alle he hadde be his lyue,
Declaryng hym be tokenes ful notable
And by signes verray demonstrable,
As he slepte ageyn þe pale mone,
His fatal day þat shulde folwe sone.
For it fel þus: as he a-bedde lay,
After mydnyȝt, to-fore þe morwe gray,
Hym þouȝt he sawe appere a creature
To his siȝt celestial of figure—
Noon erthely þing, but verraily devyne,
Of port, of chere wonder femynyne,
And, as hym sempte in his fantasye,
Like a þing sent oute of fair[i]e;
For þe bewte of hir goodly face
Recounforted, pleynly, al þe place,
Moste surmountynge & most souereyne;
And þe clernes of hir eyne tweyne,

858

Al sodeynli, or men myȝt aduerte,
Perce wolde euene to þe herte—
Diffence noon myȝt[e] be devysed.
And Vlixes, with hir loke supprysed,
Gan hir beholde al-weie more & more,
And in his slep for to siȝe sore,
Presyng ay with ful besy peyne
Hir tenbracen in his armys tweyne;
But ay þe more he presed hir to se,
Ay þe more from hym [she] gan to fle;
And ay þe more [þat] he gan purswe,
She ageynwarde gan hym to eschwe,
So contrarie to hym was fortune!
And whan she sawe he was importune,
She axed hym, shortly, what he wolde;
And he to hir þe plat[te] trouþe tolde:
“Certis,” quod he, “my lyues emperesse,
Wher þat ȝe ben woman or goddes
I can not deme nor Iugen half ariȝt,
I am so dirked and blendid in my siȝt;
But I dar wel affermyn in þis place,
My lyf, my deth stant hooly in ȝour grace,
More of merci requiryng þanne of riȝt
To rewe on me, whiche am ȝour owne knyȝt,
And of pite and compassioun
Goodly to sen to myn sauacioun:
For my desire but I may fulfille,
Þis silf[e] nyȝt to haue of ȝow my wille,
To my recure I can no remedie,
For lak of rouþe but I most[e] dye.
Now haue I al, a-twexe hope & drede,
My silf declared to ȝoure wommanhede.”
And after þat she kepte hir clos a while,

859

And ful sadly gan on hym to smyle,
And, as it is put in remembraunce,
Seyde vn-to hym, with sobre countenaunce:
“Sothly,” quod she, “þin affeccioun
Wolde fully turne to confusioun
Of vs boþe, it is so perillous,
So inly mortal and contagious,
Þat outterly, þer geyn[e] may no red,
But oon of vs moste anoon be ded—
Þis is þe fyn of þe hatful chaunce
Þat shulde folwe after oure plesaunce.”
And as Vlixes gan to neyȝe nere,
Beholdyng ay on hir heuenly cher,
Where-as she stood vpriȝt on þe grounde,
He sawe hir holde a spere longe & rounde,
Þe hed þer-of al of burned stele,
Forged new & grounde wonder wele;
And þer-vppon in his avisioun
He sawe a baner blased vp & doun,
Þe felde þer-of al [of] colour ynde,
Ful of fysshes betyn, as I fynde,
And in som bokys like as it is tolde,
In þe myddes a large crowne of golde.
And or þat she turne gan hir face,
Likly anoon to parte oute of þe place,
She spak to hym, & seyde in wordes pleyn:
“Þis ful tokene of partyng of vs tweyn
For euere-more, nowþer for sour nor swete,
After þis day neuer ageyn to mete!”
And, disapering, anoon hir leue she toke.
And after þat he sodeynly a-woke,
And gan to mvse in his fantasie
What þing þis dreme myȝt[e] sygnyfie;
But wher it ment owþer euel or good,
Þe secrenes he nat vndirstood,
For it surmountid, sothly, his resoun.

860

Þer-fore he sent þoruȝ his regioun
For swiche as wern sotil expositours
Of fate or sort, or crafti devinours,
For alle þe clerkis soget to his crowne,
Tassemble in oon his sweuene to expowne.
And whan þei knewe be informacioun
Þe maner hool of his avisioun,
Þei conclude, accordynge in-to oon,
Þe tyme aprocheþ & shal come anoon
Þat oon þat is nexte of his kynrede
With a spere shuld[e] make hym blede.
—Lat se wher he his fate can remewe!
Siþ it is hard destyne to eschewe,
As seyn þo folke in þer oppinioun,
Þat werke & truste on constellacioun.—
And Vlixes, mvsyng on þis tale,
Chaungeth colour & gan wexe pale,
Wonder dredful & ful of fantasies,
Gan in hym-silf seke remedyes
To voide a-weie þing þat wil nat be—
He stareth brode, but he may nat se,
His inward loke was with a cloude shent;
But wenyng he to haue be prudent,
Made calle his sone Thelamoun,
And to be take & shette vp in presoun,
He supposyng fully in his wit
Fro alle meschef þer-by to go quyte—
He nat aduerteth nor ne toke noon hede
To þe sharpnes of [þe] speris hed,
Nor to þe fysshes in þe baner bete,
Nor to þe se, wher þei swymme & flete,
Nor of þe quene þat called is Circes,
Þat signes brouȝt of werre & nat of pes,
Nor of þe crowne, tokene of dignite
Of oon þat shal holde his royal se,
Mid þe wawes, boþe fel & wood,

861

Amonge þe fysshes in þe large flood;—
And he shal make þe devisioun,
To-forne remembrid in thavisioun,
Ageyn his wil, of verray ignoraunce,
And execute þe fatal purueiaunce
Vp of þe dreme with his spere of stele,
Whiche Vlixes considereth neuere-a-dele,
Nor to no wyȝt hath suspecioun
But to his sone called Thelamoun,
Þat is closed & shet vp in a tour.
And Vlixes, with coste & gret labour,
Fro day to day doth his besynes
For hym-silf to make a forterresse,
Bilt on a roche, of lym & square stonys,
Depe diched aboute for þe nonys,
Þat no man may entre on no side,
Where he casteþ al his lyue tabide
With certeyn men chose in special,
Niȝt & day to wache on þe wal
Þat no wyȝt shulde haue [noon] entre,
But it so falle þat he be secre,
Knowe of olde, and to counceil sworne.
Now, as þe story rehersed hath to-forne,
Þe olde fool, þis dotard Vlixes,
A sone hadde be-geten on Circes—
Freshe & lusti, ȝonge and coraious;
And he was called Thelagonyus,
Born in þe se amonge þe flodis rage,
Þat was also, [for] to rekne his age,
Fyue & twenti ȝere or þere a-boute;
But of his fader he was ay in doute
What man he was or who it myȝt[e] be,
Beinge þere-of in noon-surete.
Til on a day he, desirous to knowe,
To his moder fil on knees lowe,
Beseching hir, goodly (& nat spare)
Of his fader þe trouþe to declare;

862

What he was, & where he shulde dwelle,
He besouȝt þat she wolde telle.
But, sothly, she long and many daies
Of prudence put hym in delayes,
Til þat she sawe she myȝt haue no reste,
So inportune he was in his requeste;
And whanne she knewe þer was non oþer bote,
Fro point to point she tolde hym crop & rote
Of Vlixes, & where þat he was kyng.
And he anoon made no lettyng,
But toke leve—it may no better be—
And seide pleinly he wolde his fader se;
Wher-of þe quene gan in herte colde.
But whan she sawe she myȝt him nat with-holde,
She hym besouȝt, with chere debonaire,
Þat he wolde sone ageyn repeire.
And forthe he seileth onward on his wey,
With-oute abood, þe silf[e] same day,
By many port and many fer contre,
Til he was brouȝt þere he wolde be—
To Achaia, a lond of gret renoun.
And he gan cerche þoruȝ þe regioun
After þe place and paleis principal
Where-as þe kyng helde his se royal;
And he so long in þe contre rood,
Til he was tauȝt where þe kyng abood,
Þer Vlixes was shet vp in mewe,
To whiche place in haste he gan purswe,
A gret party releued of his sorwe.
And on a Monday, erly be þe morwe,
Vn-to þe brigge þe riȝt[e] weie he toke,
And fond a porter deynous of his loke;
And lowly first he gan hym to preie
Þat he wold goodly hym conveie
In-to þe courte, & make no tariyng,
For a message he hadde to þe kyng.
But proudly he denyed hym þe gate,

863

And shortly seide þat he cam to late
To entre þere in any maner wyse,
And vngoodly gan hym to dispise,
Frowarde of speche and malicious.
But in al haste Thelagonyus,
As he þat was in herte nat afferde,
Þe proude porter hent[e] be þe berde,
And with his fyste brast his chawle boon,
Þat he fil ded, mvet as a stoon;
And oþer eke þat hym þo with-stood
He made proudly to lepe in-to [þe] flood;
And whan mo cam to make resistence,
He hent a swerde, be manly violence,
And furiously in his Irous tene
(Þe story seith) he slowe of hem fiftene,
Hym-silfe al-moste wounded to þe deth,
And gan, for-wery, sothly, faile breth.
And Vlixes, what for noise & soun,
To þe brigge is descendid doun,
Findinge his men at entre of þe gate
Ded & slayn be ful mortal hate;
And he ful Irous hent anoon a darte,
Of auenture stonding þo a-parte,
And cruelly caste at Thelagoun.
But þe stroke, as in conclusioun,
Damageth nat, for it glood a-side;
And he for haste no lenger wolde abide,
Hent vp þe darte, with-oute more areste,
And smot þe kyng lowe vnder þe breste
Þoruȝ þe ribbes, shortly for to seie,
[Þat] Of þe wounde he moste [nedis] deie,—
Having þo noon oppinioun
Þat he was kyng, nor suspecioun,
Nor þat he had his owne fader slawe.
Whiche faste gan to his ende drawe;
His wounde was so dedly & so kene

864

Þat he myȝt him silve nat sustene,
But pale & wan to þe grounde gan glide,
His men aboute vp-on euery side,
Þat besy wern to help hym and releue.
But his sore gan so ake and greve
Þat he wel felte þat he mvste be ded;
But abrayding, as he lifte vp his hed,
Havyng as ȝit mynde & good resoun,
Remembre gan on his avisioun,
And how it was tolde him, oute of drede,
Þat oon þat was nexte of hys kynrede,
Descendid doun from his owne lyne,
His sweuene shal parforme to þe fyne
And a-complisshe with a dart of stele.
And for he coude nat conceyve wele
What þat he was, nor who it shulde be,
He bad anoon vn-to his meyne,
With-oute harme or any violence
Fette anoon vn-to his presence
Þe ȝonge man whiche at þe gate stood,
Þat hath þat day shad so moche blood.
And whan he was a-forn Vlixes brouȝt,
Of hym he hath enquered oute & souȝt,
Firste of his kyn and nexte of his contre:
“Certis,” quod he, “I was born in þe se,
Amonge fysshes myd þe wawes grene,”—
And seide also his moder was a quene
Called Circes, of whom þe name is kouþe
Boþe Est & west, and riȝt fer be souþe,
And tolde also his fader was a kyng,
Þat hym begat at his home-comyng
Fro Troye toun, toward his contre;—
“And as my moder Circes tolde me
Secrely, þat he Vlixes hiȝte,
Of wham desirous for to han a siȝte,
I entred am þis myȝti regioun,
And haue pursuyd vn-to þis dongoun

865

Only in hope my fader to haue seyn;
But I se wel my labour is in veyn.
And sith, in soth, loste is my traueyl,
And þat it may on no side aveyle,
It were foly lenger here to dwelle:
Lo, here is al þat I can ȝou telle
Of my kynred; axeth me no more.”
With þat Vlixes gan to syȝe sore,
For lak of blood, as he þat was ful pale,
And seide anoon, whan he herde his tale:
“Now wote I wel my woful destine
Fulfilled is—it may noon oþer be!—
Now wote I wel þat it is to late
To grucche or strive ageyn my pitous fate;
For my sone, as clerkes whylom tolde,
Hath made an ende of my daies olde,
Þer-on expectant, with peynes ful greuous!”
And, with þat word, Thelagonyus,
Whan he wist ageyn natures lawe
Þat he, allas! hadde his fader slawe,
Whiche in þat lond long[e] bar his crowne,
With-oute abood he fil anoon a-swo[w]ne,
His cloþes rent, his ȝolwe here to-torn:
“Allas!” quod he, “þat euere was I born!
For cursid is my woful destine
And my fortune, whiche I may nat fle!
Cursid my sort, cursid myn auenture!
And I, refus of euery creature,
Forwaried eke my disposicioun,
And cursid is my constellacioun—
Cursed also and infortunat
Þe hour in whiche my fader me [be]gat!
So wolde God, with-oute lenger red,
—Taquiten hym anoon—þat I were ded,
To leie my lif for his deth to borwe!”
And whan þe kyng sawe his gret[e] sorwe,

866

And wist he was his sone of Circes born,
By many signe rehersed here-to-forn,
He vn-to hym anoon for-gaf his deth,
As he myȝt for want & lak of breth,
So importable was his passioun.
And his sone ycalled Thelamoun,
Whiche haþ in presoun so many day be shet,
To his presence in al haste was fet;
Whiche, whan he saw his fader in swiche point,
Vp-on þe deth stondyng in disioint,
And knewe also, & þe trouþe [haþ] founde
By whom he had his laste dedly wounde,
A swerd he hent, &, mortally Irous,
And wolde haue ronne on Thelagonivs,
Of hiȝe dispit avenged for to be.
But Vlixes of faderly pite
Made his men hold hym & restreyne;
And amyd of al his greuous peyne,
By his prudence—& þat was don anoon—
He made his sones for to be al oon;
And gaf in charge vn-to Thelamoun,
Of enternes and affeccioun,
And of hool herte, feyned neuer-adel,
Al his lyue to loue his broþer wel,
To parte with hym tresour, gold, & good,
As to þe nexte born of al his blood.
And þo, in soth, was no lenger taried,
Þat Vlixes rially was caried
Of Achaya to þe chefe cite;
And after þat lyued daies þre,
With-oute more, & þo gaf vp þe gost.
I can nat seyn, pleynly, to what cost,
After þis lyf þat his soule is goon,

867

But in a towmbe of metal & of stoon
Þe body was closed and yshet;
And after þat maked was no let,
Þat Thelamoun, with gret sollennite,
I-crowned was in his fadres see,
Swerd & septer deliuered to his hond
Of Achaya, a ful worþi lond,
Riȝt abundaunt of tresour & of good.
And Thelagoun with hym þer abood
A ȝere complet, wel cherisshed in his siȝt,
And of his broþer toke þe ordre of knyȝt;
And for hym list no lenger þer abide,
Þe kyng for hym wysly gan prouide,
Þat he with gold, gret tresour, & plente
Repeired is home to his contre;
And his moder, of age wex[e] sad,
Of [his] repeire passingly was glad,
As she þat sawe be hir sorserie
He skaped was many iupartie,
Many pereil, & many gret distresse.
And after þat, she fil in-to seknesse,
And hir dette ȝalde vn-to nature,
Whiche eskape may no creature
In al þis world þat is here lyuyng.
After whos deth hir sone was made kyng
Of Aulydos, þe merueillous contre,
As I haue tolde, enclosed with a see,
Amonge rokkes, wher many shippes drowne;
And sixti ȝere þer he bar his crowne,
Þis manly man, [þis] Thelagonyus.
And his brother, Thelamonyus,
Regned also in his regioun
Seuenti wynter, as made is mencioun.
And after þat, þei made a royal ende,
And boþe two to Iubiter þei wende,

868

To regne þere among þe sterris briȝt.
But now þe lanter and þe clere liȝt
Is wastid oute of Frigius Darete,
Whilom of Troye wryter & poete,
Guyde haue I noon, forþe for to passe:
For euene here in þe silf[e] place
He ficched hath þe boundis of his stile,
At þe sege he present al þe while,
And ay in oon with hem dide abide—
Dites þe Greke on þe toþer side.
And boþe two as in her writyng
Ne varie nat but in litel þing
Touching mater, as in special,
Þat is notable or historial:
I do no fors of incidentes smale,
Of whiche, in soth, it is but litel tale.
Saue þis Dites maketh mencioun
Of þe noumbre slay[e]n at þe toun
Lastinge þe sege, affermyng, out of drede,
Eyȝte hundrid þousand & sixe wer þer dede
On Grekis side, vpriȝt in þe felde;
And as Dares also þere behelde,
On Troye party in þe werre kene
Six hundrid þousand seuenti & sixtene
Were slay[e]n þere—in Guydo ȝe may se—
With hem þat cam to help[e] þe cite
Fro many coost & many regioun,
In diffence & reskus of þe toun.
And ful ten ȝere, so as I can caste,
And sixe monþes þe myȝti sege laste,
Or it was gete,—Dares writ hym silve—
And, ouermore, complet dayes twelve
Or Grekis hadde ful pocessioun,
By fals engyn of þe Greke Synoun,

869

Like as to-forn rehersid was but late.
I haue no more [of] latyn to translate
After Dites, Dares, nor Guydo,
And me to adden any more þer-to
Þan myn auctours specefie & seyn,
Þe occupacioun, sothly, wer but veyn,
Lik a maner of presumpcioun.
And tyme complet of þis translacioun,
By iust[e] rekenyng & accountis clere,
Was a þousand & foure hundrid ȝere,
And twenti ner,—I knowe it out of drede—
After þat Crist resseyved oure manhede
Of hir þat was Emperesse and quene
Of heuene & helle, and [a] maide clene—
Þe eyȝte ȝere, by computacioun,
Suynge after þe coronacioun
Of hym þat is most gracious in werkyng,
Herry þe Fyfþe, þe noble worþi kyng
And protector of Brutis Albyoun—
And called is, þoruȝ his hiȝe renoun,
Þoruȝ his prowes & his chiualrie,
Also fer as passeþ clowde or skye,
Of Normaundie þe myȝti conquerour:
For þoruȝ his knyȝthod & diligent labour,
Maugre alle þo þat list hym [to] with-seyn,
He hath conquered his herytage ageyn,
And by his myȝti prudent gouernaunce
Recured eke his trewe title of Fraunce;
Þat who-so liste loken and vnfolde
Þe pe-de-Grew of cronycles olde,
And cerchen bokes y-write longe a-forn,
He shal fynde þat he is iustly born
To regne in Fraunce by lyneal discent.
And onward now he is made regent
Of þilke lond durynge his fader lyf,

870

Of his goodnes to voide werre & stryf,—
He to reioisshe, with-oute more delay,
Septer & crowne after þe kynges day,
As it is clerly, in conclusioun,
Enrolled vp in þe conuencioun.
And þanne I hope þe tyme fortunat,
Of þe olde worlde called aureat,
Resorte shal, by influence of grace,
Þat cruel Mars shal no more manace
With his lokis furious and wood,
By false aspectus for to shede blood
A-twene þe folkes of þis rewmys tweyne,
Whiche euery wyȝt ouȝt[e] to compleyne.
But, as I trust in myn oppinioun,
Þis worþi kyng of wisdam & resoun
And of knyȝthod shal so doon his peyne
To maken oon þat longe hath be tweyne:
I mene þus, þat Yngelond and Fraunce
May be al oon, with-oute variaunce,
Oute of hertis old rancour to enchase
By influence of his myȝti grace,
Þat called is of clerkis, dout[e]les,
Þe souereyn lord and þe prince of pes.
And I hope his grace shal now reyne,
To sette reste atwene þis rewmys tweyne:
For in his power, sothly, stondeth al;
And alliaunce of þe blod royal,
Þat is knet vp by bonde of mariage,
Of werre shal voide aweie þe rage,
To make pes with briȝt[e] bemys shyne.
And on þat is called Kateryne,
And namyd is riȝt good & faire also,
Shal be mene a-twixe boþe two,
Of grace enprentid in hir wommanhede,
Þat to compleyne we shal haue no nede.
And I hope hir gracious arryvaille

871

In-to þis lond shal so moche availle,
Þat Ioie, honour, and prosperite,
With-oute trouble of al aduersite,
Repeire shal, & al hertly plesaunce,
Plente, welfare, & fulsom abundaunce,
Pes & quiete, boþe nyȝe and ferre,
With-oute strife, debat, or any werre,
Meschef, pouert, nede, or indygence,
With ful ceessyng of deth & pestilence—
Sothly, al þis I hope ȝe shal sen
Come in-to lond with þis noble quene,
Þat we shal seyn of hert, & feyne nouȝt:
Blessed be she þat al þis hath vs brouȝt!
—And he þat haþ þoruȝ myȝt of his werkyng,
Of his knyȝthod concluded al þis þing,
And swiche mervailles in armis don & wrouȝt,
And his purpos fully aboute brouȝt
Of hiȝe wisdam set in his inward siȝt,
Reioisshynge al þat longeth to his riȝt,
And hiȝest sit of worþinesse in glorie
With þe scepter of conquest and victorie—
I praie to God only for his beste,
Whan he hath al set in pes and reste,
And is ful put in clere pocessioun
Of al þat longeth to his subieccioun,
To sende hym home with as gret honour
As euere ȝit hadde any conquerour,
Longe after, in Ioie and in quyete
For to regnen in his royal sete!
Þus shal I ay—þer is no more to seye—
Day & nyȝt for his expleit y-preye
Of feythful herte & of hool entent,
Þat whylom gaf me in commaundement,
Nat ȝore a-go, in his faderes tyme,
Þe sege of Troye on my maner to ryme,

872

Moste for his sake, to speke in special.
Al-þouȝ þat I be boistous and rual,
He gaf me charge þis story to translate,
Rude of konnynge, called Iohn Lydgate,
Monke of Burie be professioun,
Vsynge an habite of perfeccioun,
Al-be my lyf acorde nat þer-to—
I feyne nat; I wote wel it is so—
It nedeth nat witnesse for to calle,
Record I take of my brethren alle,
Þat wil nat faille at so gret a nede.
And al þat shal þis noble story rede
I be-seche of support and of grace,
Þer I offende in any maner place,
Or wher-so-euere þat þei fynde errour,
Of gentilnesse to shewe þis fauour:
Benygnely for to done her peyne
To correcte, raþer þan disdeyne.
For wel wot I moche þing is wrong,
Falsly metrid, boþe of short & long;
And, ȝif þei shuld han of al disdeyn,
It is no drede, my labour wer in veyn.
Late ignoraunce & rudnesse me excuse:
For ȝif þat ȝe, platly, al refuse,
For certeyn fautes whiche ȝe shal fynde,
I doute nat, my þank is set be-hynde;
For in metring þouȝ þer be ignoraunce,
Ȝet in þe story ȝe may fynde plesaunce
Touching substaunce of [þat] myn auctour wryt.
And þouȝe so be þat any word myssit,
Amendeth it, with chere debonaire;
For an errour to hyndren & appaire,
Þat is nat seide of purpos nor malys,
It is no worshippe to hym þat is wys;
And no wyȝt gladly so sone ȝeveþ [a] lak
(Specialy be-hynden at þe bake),

873

As he, in sothe, þat can no skyl at al—
He goth ful hool þat neuer had[de] fal!
And I nat fynde, of newe nor of olde,
For to deme þer is noon so bolde,
As he þat is blent with vnkonnyng:
For blind Baiard cast pereil of no þing,
Til he stumble myddes of þe lake!
And noon so redy for to vndir-take
Þan he, in soth, nor bolder to seie wers,
Þat can no skyl on prose nor on vers;
Of alle swiche þat can nat be stille,
Litel forse, wher þei seie good or ille!
For vn-to hem my boke is nat direct,
But to swiche as hauen, in effect,
On symple folke ful compassioun,
Þat goodly can by correccioun
Amende a þing, & hindre neuere-adel,
Of custom ay redy to seie wel:
For he þat was gronde of wel-seying,
In al hys lyf hyndred no makyng,
My maister Chaucer, þat founde ful many spot—
Hym liste nat pinche nor gruche at euery blot,
Nor meue hym silf to parturbe his reste
(I haue herde telle), but seide alweie þe best,
Suffring goodly of his gentilnes
Ful many þing enbracid with rudnes.
And ȝif I shal shortly hym discryve,
Was neuer noon to þis day alyue,
To rekne alle, boþe ȝonge & olde,
Þat worþi was his ynkhorn for to holde.
And in þis lond ȝif þer any be,
In borwe or toun, village or cite,
Þat konnyng haþ his tracis for to swe,
Wher he go brood or be shet in mwe—
To hym I make a direccioun
Of þis boke to han inspeccioun,

874

Besechyng hem, with her prudent loke,
To race & skrape þoruȝ-oute al my boke,
Voide & adde wher hem semeth nede;
And þouȝ so be þat þei nat ne rede
In al þis boke no rethorikes newe,
Ȝit I hope þei shal fynde trewe
Þe story pleyn, chefly in substaunce.
And who-so liste to se variaunce,
Or worldly þing wrouȝt be daies olde,
In þis boke he may ful wel beholde
Chaunge of Fortune, in hir cours mutable,
Selde or nat feithful ouþer stable,
Lordes, princes from her royalte
Sodeinly brouȝt in aduersite,
And kynges eke plounged in pouert,
And for drede darynge in desert,—
Vnwar slauȝter compassed of envie,
Mordre execut by conspirasie,
Await[e] liggyng falshede and tresoun,
And of kyngdammys sodeyn euersioun,—
Rauysshyng of wommen for delyt,
Rote of þe werre & of mortal despit,
Fals mayntenaunce of avout[e]rye,
Many worþi causyng for to dye,
Synne ay concludynge, who-so takeþ hede,
Vengaunce vnwar for his final mede—
To declare, þat in al worldly lust,
Who loke ariȝt, is but litel trust,
As in þis boke exaumple ȝe shal fynde,
Ȝif þat ȝe list enprente it in ȝour mynde—
How al passeth & halt here no soiour,
Wastyng a-way as doth a somer flour,
Riche & pore, of euery maner age:
For oure lyf here is but a pilgrymage,
Meynt with labour & with moche wo,
Þat ȝif men wolde taken hede þer-to
And to-forn prudently aduerte,

875

Litel Ioie þei shuld han in her herte
To sette her trust in any worldly þing;
For þer is nouþer prince, lord, nor kyng,
Be exaumple of Troye, like as ȝe may se,
Þat in þis lif may haue ful surete.
Þerfore, to hym þat starf vppon þe rode,
Suffringe deth for oure alder goode,
Lyfte vp ȝoure hertis & þinke on him among:
For be ȝe neuere so myȝti nor so strong,
With-oute hym al may nat availle;
For he can ȝif victorie in bataille
And holde a felde, shortly to conclude,
With a fewe ageyn gret multitude.
And be grace he makeþ princes stronge,
And worþi kynges for to regne longe,
And tirauntis sodeynly oppresse,
Þrowe hem doun, for al her gret richesse;
And in his hond power he reserueth
Eche man taquite liche as he disserueth—
To whom I preie with deuocioun,
With al myn herte & hool affeccioun,
Þat he list graunt longe contenuance,
Prosperite, and good perseueraunce,
Helþe, welfare, victorie, and honour
Vn-to þat noble myȝti conquerour,
Herry þe Fyfþe, to-forn y-specefied,
So þat his name may be magnified
Here in þis lyf vp to þe sterres clere,
And afterward, aboue þe nynþe spere,
Whan he is ded, for to han a place!
Þis praie I God for to send hym grace,
At whos biddynge, as I tolde late,
First I be-gan þe sege to translate.
And now I haue hooly in his honour
Executed þe fyn of my labour.
Vn-to alle þat shal þis story se,

876

With humble herte and al humylite
Þis litel boke lowly I be-take,
It to supporte—and þus an ende I make.
Explicit liber quintus et Vltimus.

LENVOYE.

Most worþi prince, of knyȝthod sours & welle,
Whos hiȝe renoun þoruȝ þe world doþ shine,
And alle oþer in manhood dost excelle,
Of merit egal to þe worþi nyne,
And born also by discent of lyne
As riȝtful eyr by title to atteyne,
To bere a crowne of worþi rewmys tweyne!
And also fer as Phebus in his spere
From est to west shedeþ his bemys briȝt,
And Lucyna, with a shrowdid chere,
Goth compas rounde with hir pale liȝt,
Þou art [y-]rekned for þe best[e] knyȝt,
To be registred worþi as of name
In þe hiȝest place of þe hous of fame,
To holde a palme of knyȝthod in þin hond,
For worþines and for hiȝe victorie,
As þou þat art drad on se & lond,
And euermore with laude, honour, & glorie,
For iust conquest to be put in memorie,
With a crowne made of laurer grene
Vp-on þin hed, to-fore þat famus quene—
Whilom ordeyned only for conquerours,
Stable of herte, with longe perseueraunce,
And gaf nat vp til þei wer victours,
Emprises take for no sodeyn chaunce,

877

Whos name ay floureþ with newe remembraunce
And fadeth nat of ȝeris ȝore a-goon,
Amonge whiche þou maist be set for oon:
For þoruȝ þe world in euery regioun
Reportid is with fame þat fleth wyde,
Þat naturelly þi condicioun
On þing be-gonne is knyȝtly to abide,
And for þe tyme manly sette a-side
Reste and ese, what cost þer-on be spent,
Til þou haue cheved þe fyn of þin entent.
Most circumspect and passinge avysee,
Al þi werkes conveied with prudence,
Saad & demvre, like to Iosue,
Ageyn whos swerd is no resistence,
And hast also heuenly influence,
With Salomon, wysly to discerne,
Only be grace þi peple to gouerne—
Mercy eke meynt with þi magnificence,
On alle oppressed for to haue pite,
And of rebelles be manly violence
Abate canst þe grete cruelte;
And so with Dauid þou hast kyngly pite,
And hiȝe prowes with Sesar Iulius,
In his tyme most victorius.
And manly holdest in þin hondes two
—Who can beholde by clere inspeccioun—
Þe swerd of knyȝthod & þe scepter also:
The ton to bring to subieccioun
Hertes made proude by fals rebellioun,
And with þe scepter to rewle at þe beste
Þi pore liges, þat wolde live at reste.
Now, þou þat haste manhod, vertu, & grace,
Attemperaunce, fredam, & bounte,
Lowly I praie, with a dredful face,
Disdeyne nat benyng[e]ly to se

878

Vp-on þis boke rudly made by me,
To fyn only to agreen þin hiȝnesse—
And rewe of merci vp-on my symplesse,
And [eke] in þi knyȝtly aduertence
Considre & se, my souereyn lord most dere,
Of þi Innat famous sapience,
Þat Crist Iesus received with good chere
Þe twey Mynutes ȝoue of herte entere
By þe wydowe, whiche of wille & þouȝt
Gaf al hir good, & kepte hir silf riȝt nouȝt.
By whiche ensample, so þat it nat offende
Þoruȝ myn vnkonnynge to þin hiȝe noblesse,
Late good wil my litel gift amende,
And of þi mercy & renomed goodnesse
Haue no disdeyn of my bareyn rudnesse,
And, in makyng þouȝ I haue no mvse,
Late trewe menyng þe surplus [al] excuse.
More þan good hert hath no maner wyȝt
To presente nouþer to God nor man,
And for my part to þe, as it is riȝt,
Þat gyf I hool as ferforþe as I can,
Ay to perseuere, fro tyme þat I gan,
With wil & þouȝt for þin estate to preie,
Whiche to conserue, þus finally I seie:
First of al, Almyȝti God to queme
With al þat may be to his plesaunce,
And to þi crowne and þi diademe
Grace & good eure with long continuaunce,
Of þi liges feithful obeisaunce,
And eche vertu þat man may specefie,
I praye God graunte vn-to þi regalye!

879

Verba translatoris ad librum suum.

Go, litel bok, & put þe in þe grace
Of hym þat is most of excellence;
And be nat hardy to apperen in no place
With-oute support of his magnificence:
And who-so-euere in þe fynde offence,
Be nat to bold for no presumpcioun—
Þi silfe enarme ay in pacience,
And þe submitte to her correccioun.
And for þou art enlumined with no floures
Of rethorik, but with white & blak,
Þerfore þou most abide alle showres
Of hem þat list sette on þe a lak;
And whan þou art most likly go to wrak,
Ageyn[e]s hem þin errour nat diffende,
But humblely with-drawe & go a-bak,
Requerynge hem al þat is mys to amende.
Amen Amen