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Lydgate's Troy Book

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

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

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,

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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,

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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,

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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

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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,

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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.