University of Virginia Library

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,
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
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,
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;
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,
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,
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!”