University of Virginia Library

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,
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?
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,
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.
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
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,
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.