University of Virginia Library

In Grece whilom weren brethren two,
Of whiche that oon was called Danao,
That many a sone hath of his body wonne,
As swiche false lovers ofte conne.
Among his sones alle there was oon
That aldermost he lovede of everychoon.
And whan this child was born, this Danao
Shop hym a name and callede hym Lyno.
That other brother called was Egiste,
That was of love as fals as evere hym liste,
And many a doughter gat he in his lyf;
Of whiche he gat upon his ryghte wyf
A doughter dere, and dide hire for to calle
Ypermystra, yongeste of hem alle.
The whiche child of hire natyvyte
To alle thewes goode yborn was she,
As likede to the goddes er she was born,
That of the shef she sholde be the corn.
The Wirdes, that we clepen Destine,
Hath shapen hire that she mot nedes be
Pyëtous, sad, wis, and trewe as stel,
As to these wemen it acordeth wel.
For thogh that Venus yaf hire gret beaute,
With Jupiter compouned so was she
That conscience, trouthe, and drede of shame,
And of hyre wifhod for to kepe hire name,
This, thoughte hire, was felycite as here.
The rede Mars was that tyme of the yeere
So feble that his malyce is hym raft;
Repressed hath Venus his crewel craft,
That, what with Venus and other oppressioun
Of houses, Mars his venim is adoun,
That Ypermystra dar nat handle a knyf
In malyce, thogh she shulde lese hire lyf.
But natheles, as hevene gan tho turne,
To badde aspectes hath she of Saturne,
That made hire for to deyen in prisoun,
As I shal after make mencioun.

To Danao and Egistes also,
Althogh so be that they were brethren two —
For thilke tyme was spared no lynage —
It lykede hem to make a maryage
Bytwixen Ypermystre and hym Lyno,
And casten swich a day it shal he so,
And ful acorded was it utterly;
The aray is wrought, the tyme is faste by.
And thus Lyno hath of his faders brother
The doughter wedded, and ech of hem hath other.
The torches brennen, and the laumpes bryghte;
The sacryfices ben ful redy dighte;
Th'encens out of the fyre reketh sote;
The flour, the lef is rent up by the rote
To maken garlondes and crounes hye.
Ful is the place of soun of minstralsye,
Of songes amorous of maryage,
As thylke tyme was the pleyne usage.
And this was in the paleys of Egiste,
That in his hous was lord, ryght as hym lyste.
And thus the day they dryve to an ende;
The frendes taken leve, and hom they wende;
The nyght is come, the bryd shal go to bedde.
Egistus to his chamber faste hym spedde,
And prively he let his doughter calle.
Whan that the hous was voyded of hem alle,
He loketh on his doughter with glad chere
And to hire spak, as ye shal after here:
"My ryghte doughter, tresor of myn herte,
Syn fyrst that day that shapen was my sherte,
Or by the fatal systren had my dom,
So nygh myn herte nevere thyng ne com
As thow, myn Ypermystre, doughter dere.
Tak hed what I, thy fader, seye the here,
And werk after thy wiser evere mo.
For alderfirst, doughter, I love the so
That al the world to me nis half so lef;
Ne I nolde rede the to thy myschef
For al the good under the colde mone.
And what I mene, it shal he seyd right sone,
With protestacioun, as in this wyse,
That, but thow do as I shal the devyse,
Thow shalt be ded, by hym that al hath wrought!
At shorte wordes, thow ne scapest nought
Out of my paleys or that thow he ded,
But thow consente and werke after my red;
Tak this to thee for ful conclusioun."

This Ypermystre caste hire eyen doun,
And quok as doth the lef of aspe grene.
Ded wex hire hew, and lyk an ash to sene,
And seyde, "Lord and fader, al youre wille,
After my myght, God wot, I shal fulfille,
So it to me be no confusioun."
"I nele," quod he, "have non excepcioun";
And out he caught a knyf, as rasour kene.
"Hyd this," quod he, "that it be nat ysene;
And whan thyn hushonde is to bedde go,
Whil that he slepeth, kit his throte atwo.
For in my dremes it is warned me
How that my nevew shal my bane he,
But which I noot, wherfore I wol be siker.
If thow sey nay, we two shul have a biker,
As I have seyd, by hym that I have sworn!"

This Ipermystre hath nygh hire wit forlorn;
And, for to passen harmles of that place,
She graunteth hym; ther is non other grace.
And therwithal a costret taketh he,
And seyde, "Herof a draught, or two, or thre,
Yif hym to drynke, whan he goth to reste,
And he shal slepe as longe as evere thee leste,
The narcotyks and opies ben so stronge.
And go thy wey, lest that him thynke longe."
Out cometh the bryd, and with ful sobre cheere,
As is of maydens ofte the manere,
To chaumbre is brought with revel and with song.
And shortly, lest this tale be to long,
This Lyno and she hen brought to bedde,
And every wight out at the dore hym spedde.

The nyght is wasted, and he fyl aslepe.
Ful tenderly begynneth she to wepe;
She rist hire up, and dredfully she quaketh,
As doth the braunche that Zepherus shaketh,
And hust were alle in Argon that cite.
As cold as any frost now waxeth she;
For pite by the herte hire streyneth so,
And drede of deth doth hire so moche wo,
That thryes doun she fyl in swich a were.
She rist yit up, and stakereth her and there,
And on hire hondes faste loketh she.
"Allas! and shal myne hondes blody be?
I am a mayde, and, as by my nature,
And bi my semblaunt and by my vesture,
Myne handes ben nat shapen for a knyf,
As for to reve no man fro his lyf.
What devel have I with the knyf to do?
And shal I have my throte korve a-two?
Thanne shal I blede, allas, and me beshende!
And nedes-cost this thyng moste have an ende;
Or he or I mot nedes lese oure lyf.
Now certes," quod she, "syn I am his wif,
And hath my feyth, yit is it bet for me
For to be ded in wifly honeste
Than ben a traytour lyvynge in my shame.
Be as he may, for ernest or for game,
He shal awake, and ryse, and gon his way,
Out at this goter, or that it he day" —
And wep ful tenderly upon his face,
And in hyre armes gan hym to enbrace,
And hym she roggeth and awaketh softe.
And at a wyndow lep he fro the lofte,
Whan she hath warned hym, and don hym bote.
This Lyno swift was, and lyght of fote,
And from his wif he ran a ful good pas.
This sely woman is so weik — Allas! —
And helples, so that or that she fer wente,
Hire crewel fader dide hire for to hente.
Allas, Lyno, whi art thow so unkynde?
Why ne haddest thow remembred in thy mynde
To taken hire, and lad hire forth with the?
For whan she saw that gon awey was he,
And that she myghte nat so faste go,
Ne folwen hym, she sat hire doun ryght tho,
Til she was caught and fetered in prysoun.
This tale is seyd for this conclusioun —