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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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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.