University of Virginia Library

To the Reader.

Let pacience increase by kinde,
within thy dolefull breast:
Let that swete dame within thy bowre,
haue hir abyding neast.
Consider, viewe and vnderstande,
what liquor doth descende:
Out of hir welles, from perils great,
the same will thee defende.
The stinking bande of fowle dispaire,
thy state shall not molest:
Ne slaughter in thy gates shall not,
to strike be ready prest.
For Socrates doth playne declare,
no other good to be:
Than wrapt in woes and pinching cares,
a pacient one to see.
The saincts haue shewed what pacience is,
howe precious in Gods sight:
In stories we may reade and finde,
how much they did delight,
For to be founde in miseries,
in pacience to dwell:
Whereof to vs this story doth
most playnely shewe and tell.
What pacience had Iob I finde,
such pacience is rare:
A thousand Martirs I with him,
may very well compare.
What was the pacience of those,
whome flashing firy flames:
Bereft of life, yet coulde it not,
at all extinct their fames.
For fame for good desert doth rest,
behinde though they be gone:
Bicause we might pursue the like,
and oft thinke thervpon.
Therefore let vs pursue the same,
and then we shal be sure:
For to possesse that glorious crowne,
that lastes and shall endure,
After that earth, yea birdes and beastes,
shall be consumed to nought:
Which crowne to vs O Lord do graunt,
that with thy bloud vs bought.

The verdicte of the Booke.

The noble History of Plasidas.

Sometyme in Romane lande there was,
a king of noble fame:
Who was full faire in martiall feates,
and Trayan had to name.
Who vnder him of lusty Knightes,
did keepe a comely trayne:
And ouer them he poynted hath,
one knight as Capitaine.
This knight to name had Plasidas,
one whome the king did loue:
For martiall feates that in this knight,
did shine the rest aboue.
A wife he had of glistering hew,
of shape both faire and trim:
Of louing minde, of gladsome heart,
and trusty vnto him.
By her he had two children fayre,
surmounting Phœbus bright:
Who for their manly courage stout,
compare with him they might.
The prouerbe olde is verified,
vpon these babies twaine:
By splendent courage they assay,
their honoures to maintaine.
The father he before doth striue,
to runne a happy rase:
The manly children parent like,
do followe on apace.
And sekes for to obtayne the crowne,
of honour and of prayse:
Which to atchieue the noble hearts,
indeuour still alwayes.
They spende their tyme with ioy and blisse
their labour they imploy:
According to their parentes mindes,
their hope and perfect ioy.
Such bookes these babes did learn to reade
as present tyme did giue:
Which might their tender yeares trade vp
in Mametrie to liue.
Thus they in whom all tendernesse,
of age did still remaine:
Were taught the labour tedious,
of study to stustaine.
The parentes eke imploy their dayes,
good learning to attaine:
And now and then they finde pastime,
their griefes for to restraine.
Sometime on hunting he doth ride,
sometyme to Chesse they goe:
Sometime great doutes they do decide,
that in the Realme might growe.
This was the vse of Plasidas,
his minde to recreate:
This vsed eke his children deare,
O blessed happy fate.
The stormy winter dayes hath left,
with misly cloudes to swell:
And Phœbus bright appointed is,
more nearer vs to dwell.
And Eolus no pleasure takes,
to dim the ayre with cloudes:
And Phœbus nowe is quite deuoide,
of fogges his beames that shrowdes.
Then doth Aurora leaue the bed
of Titan, and doth bring:
Some ioyes to men, the wished day
beholding once to spring.
And trees and hearbes with ioyfull heart,
do shew their pleasaunt hew:
And Knights in Forrests bende their force
the Bucke for to subdew.
Then Plasidas with comely traine,
of knightes of royall kinde:
Do enter now the greene Forestes,
a Bucke foorth for to finde.
At lēgth he came where bucks great store,
did stande confusedly:
And ech man now doth bend him selfe,
his lusty Stede to try.
Now here and there the harmelesse Buck,
assayeth for to runne:
And Plasidas at one faire Bucke,
to ryde he hath begonne.
The other knightes amongst the Buckes,
in fieldes abrode do raunge:
But Plasidas followeth hard,
this Bucke and will not chaunge.
At length in thickst of woods I say,
the Bucke doth enter in:
And then more fiercely hir to sew,
this knight doth straight beginne.
Till at the last the Bucke had tooke,
a Mountaine huge and hye:
And there the huge and lofty Bucke,
Plasidas did discry.
But as he was addicted sore,
the Bucke with force to take:
The mighty God in Skyes aboue,
his seruaunt did him make.
And out from cloudes he called to him,
his Idolles to detest:
Which by and by fel in a swoune,
and so he left the beast.
Then there he layde his sprangling corps,
almost deuoyde of breath:
I am thy God then sayd the Lord,
which bought thee with my death.
My very bloud doth iustifie,
in me thou hast thy life:
Go wende in hast the Lorde can say,
conuert thy Heathen wife.
Thy children eke let them be taught,
one God to honour pure:
Then thou my kingdome shalt possesse,
hereof thou mayst be sure.
Where thou shalt liue eternally,
if thou this life detest:
And shalt if thou fight manfully,
for aye with me be blest.
Arise therfore go wende in hast,
this life is but as grasse:
To day full faire (hir glistring hew,)
to morow quite is past.
Those stocks & stones the which thou doest
as Goddes adorne with prayse:
Are in my sight Idolatrous,
therefore eschewe those wayes.
Arise I say and get thee hence,
make hast thee to baptise:
And see thou do conuert thy wife,
I say in any wise.
Apalled sore with feare and dreade,
the Knight straight wayes did say:
Haue mercy Lord, and me forgiue,
I hartly do thee pray.
Stand vp thou knight then sayd the Lord,
thy sinnes remitted be:
Do thou not feare for Sathan will,
thee plague with misery.
Then downe he sat with stretched handes
to God he gaue the prayse:
And sayde, to thee that sittes on hye,
be honour due alwayes.
That hast vouchsafe this day to call,
thy seruaunt gone astray:
Euen as a sheepe by fortune strayed,
out of the herde away.
I do confesse thou onely arte,
my comfort and my trust:
And eke my God, and thy promyse,
thou kepest true and iust.
No part thereof thou violatest,
thou art both God and man:
These stockes, these stones be Diuels yll,
do vs no good they can.
Thee therefore I do worship still,
thou madest the worlde of naught:
And I the Image of thy grace,
that thou of earth hast wrought.
I do confesse my heauenly king,
that no good is in me:
But that the goodnesse which I haue,
doth all discende from thee.
Without thy grace and goodnesse, I
no day at all can say:
But that I should be ouerthrowen,
and brought to deathes decay.
But thou O God art my defence,
my aide, my hope, and trust:
Thou art my king, my God, my Lord,
my sauiour true and iust.
O Lord I know that Sathan will,
with cares my soule molest:
But thou O Lord in pacience,
defende my carefull brest.
Let me with pacience still abide,
thy gracious laysure good:
And graunt also to me full hope,
in thy most precious bloud.
That what so euer illes do hap,
vnto thy seruaunt here:
With willing minde the burden huge,
with pacience I may bere.
Graunt also that dispayre do not,
molest my quiet state:
Ne that I should in any wise,
incurre thy heauy hate.
But giue me Lord a minde alwayes,
obedient for to bee:
Unto thy hest, and to submit
my will alwayes to thee.
So shall I be a most fitte braunch,
ingraffed in the tree:
Of liuing dayes, and at the last,
shall euer raigne with thee.
To whome be prayse eternally,
both now and euer more:
One onely God though persons three,
as I haue sayd before.
Then at the last this noble knight,
from Forrest made returne:
And thought within his hunting race,
no longer to soiourne.
But home he commes in posting wise,
The knightes they after hye:
And some the chase will follow on,
the ende thereof to trye.
The mighty Buckes lye dead on launde.
the Palfrayes they do sweate:
And from their frothy mouthes they breath
the inward partching heate.
Now here now there with launce in hand,
the marshall knightes do runne:
And at the last they haue espyed,
how Plasidas did come.
From out the groues so greene which was
beset with many a tree:
With heauy chere much like vnto,
a man in miserie.
When they perceyued well that he,
with sorrow was infect:
They mused much, yet of that hapte,
they nothing did suspect.
Then home they go and some doe lade,
the pray that they haue slaine:
And other some for their repastes,
in Forrestes do remaine.
At length Plasidas doth ariue,
before his Castle gate:
His wife to welcome home hir Loue,
is ready sone thereat.
From gate to Hall they do ascende,
and there the bourdes be spred:
The sunne is downe, and time it is,
for men to goe to bed.
The chamberlaynes the bed downe lay,
and fier in chamber make:
And nowe Plasidas he is come,
his corporall rest to take.
When he in bed had layne a while,
great griefes he did sustayne:
And so at length his minde to breake,
he purposeth certaine.
At length his wife perceyuing that,
no rest her Mate could finde:
She did procure him for to shewe,
what dreade was in his minde.
At length he sayde, oh louing mate,
the cause sith thou wouldest know:
Of these my cares so huge and fell,
to thee them I will showe.
This day (quoth he) as I abrode
in Forrest thicke did runne:
A mighty Bucke his race to take,
before me hath begunne.
At whom I sued with all my might,
and force that I could make:
At length the Bucke for his defence,
the densid woodes doth take.
And there the Bucke I do pursue,
on loftie steede amaine:
Till that the toppe of one great hill,
he seketh to attaine.
And there from out the skyes did breake,
a voyce like thunders cry:
For feare wherof almost my breath,
to Skyes away did fly.
Quoth he I am thy very God,
ne made but being still:
Both heauen and earth, yea Skyes and al
obeyes vnto my will.
I made them all, and thee O man,
as Lorde of earth to bee:
The fishe, the foules, the birdes, the beast,
shall all obey to thee.
And for the loue which I thee bare,
my Image I thee made:
A liuing soule the life wherof,
away shall neuer fade.
Thus art thou now my Image pure,
and I thy Lorde and king:
Thou art the shepe whom I do loue,
aboue all earthly thing.
By this my loue I did declare,
when thou wast vtterly:
Condemned for thy wickednesse,
eternally to dye.
I loued thee so that I did take,
a seruaunts shape on me:
For to be slaine euen as a sheepe,
at Sacrifice we see.
And thou vnkinde forgetting quite,
what I for thee haue done:
Hast made thee Goddes, and of vile earth,
a God is now become.
Yet I bicause I tender thee,
And rewe thy heauy fall:
Uouchsafe againe thee to the folde,
once more from sinne to call.
Repent therefore and learne to knowe,
thy God, thy Lord, and King:
So shalt thou with him eterne liue,
where Angels holy sing.
Forsake thy Idolles and become,
a Christian now at last:
And Ile remitte and quite forgiue,
thy wickednesse forepaste.
Arise therefore go wende in hast,
make speede for to conuert:
Thy gentle wife, that honour shee,
may me with all hir heart.
O Lord (quoth I) if Sathan do,
with care my corps molest:
Be thou my ayde, let pacience still,
abide within my brest.
Do thou defende our sinfull corps,
O Lorde we thee desire:
That by thy death vnto the crowne
of life we may asspire.
Then sayd the Lorde with troubles great,
Sathan shall thee anoye:
By fraude in frendship such as erst,
with thee were wont to toye.
And speake thee faire, with cap and knee,
at euery worde do make:
Now in thy fall and miserie,
their flattering leaues shall take.
And not content with rayling voice,
reprochfull wordes to say:
But eke are bent to spoyle thy Tent,
thy goodes to beare away.
Which thou shalt by my grace diuine,
with pacience beare thy losse:
And at the length when I see time,
Ile take away this crosse.
And will againe in former state,
thee place with ioy and blesse:
With double folde, and shalt againe
possesse thy lost rychesse.
Then downe I fell in swouning there,
and loud and shirle I cryed:
Oh Lord thy seruaunt will I be,
hap me what will betide.
These were the wordes when sacred tops,
of mountaines great and tall:
He left, O Plasidas go home,
thy wife see that thou call.
Then sayd his wife, my louing Lord,
O Plasidas so true:
He is the God of heauen and earth,
that did appeare to you.
For yester night as I did lye,
in bed with heauy minde:
Me thought before me one most faire,
in chamber I did finde.
Appalled sore twixt feare and dreade,
at length to me he spake:
And sayd, O Theapis from slepe,
and drousinesse awake.
To morrow shall thy husbande dere,
what I am well perceaue:
I am thy Christ and went his way,
and thus he tooke his leaue.
This for to shewe my louing Lord,
I durst no whit to thee:
Least happely thou mightst haue thought,
in me some iniury.
But now I knowe and well perceyue,
that that was Christ in deede:
He is of God coequall mate,
and eke of Dauids seede.
To him therfore with thankes giuing,
on Flutes and Pypes full shrill:
Our Sacrifices vnto him,
on Aultars will we kill.
This is the Prophet which to vs,
full long was prophecied:
This is the very sonne of him,
who Starres in Skyes doth guide.
Therefore my Lord if that thee please,
of baptisme let vs take:
The sacrament, and then let vs,
our Country soyle forsake.
Then sayd the knight, faire dame at hand,
doth rest a clarke of fame:
A Minister of sacred rightes,
who Buno hath to name.
A comely man, of fayth most pure,
to him straight we will wende:
For rightes of Baptisme to receyue,
I verily do pretend.
Our children eke he baptise shall,
according vnto right:
And thus to him they went in hast,
in middest of the night.
And when they baptisme had receyued,
as now the maner is:
Plasidas, Eustas had to name,
his wife is Theapis.
His children eke whom nature made,
of beauty passing faire:
Were tender ones, thone Agapite,
Theospite was the heyre.
Thus baptisme done vnto their house,
agayne they do repaire:
And there in peace a while they liue,
both honestly and faire.
At length the sturdy boystrous blastes,
of Sathan gins to rore:
Euen as the water from a hyll,
or as a myghty Bore.
Which of some wight receyued hath,
a wound both huge and great:
Or as the flashing waues of floudes,
that craggie rockes doth beate.
With hurling here and there hir streames,
indeuoring for to weare:
The ragged bankes which of their floudes,
the crabbyd rage doth beare.
Much like vnto a battayle made,
a Citie for to get:
And munition with burning strokes,
to sacke the walles is set.
And breach is made, and houses burne,
and souldiers nowe beginne:
For ioy of spoyle, by vitall breath
not for to set a pinne.
Or else when as a Lion great,
doth range with angry moode:
With hungrie chawes amid the woods,
doth seeke to haue his foode.
And he that first within his sight,
appeares that he may see:
With gasping mouth on him he runnes,
deuoured for to bee.
So Sathan now in roring wise,
on Plasidas doth runne:
His sheepe and cattell for to slay,
already hath begunne.
Then Plasidas to pouertie,
is brought the ready way:
And eke when that his fayned friendes,
perceyued his decay,
They runne his house to spoyle and sacke,
his goodes they beare away:
Euen those whome he had feasted earst,
before his great decay.
These pampered churles that sit all day,
at tables dayntie fed:
Who by all mischieuous crabbed guiles,
with stinking heart is led.
Whome neyther loue ne hate can driue,
from out the Castell dore:
They learned haue so for to rowe,
with the Athenien oare.
I may such persones well compare,
vnto a pype or tonne:
That hath good wine to outwarde sight,
in which there is poyson.
For they themselues so beautifie,
their wordes in inwarde showe:
But poyson much is hyd therein,
as afterwardes we knowe.
Thus Plasidas from great renoume,
to pouertie is brought:
And where he was a royall Knight,
nowe is he worse than nought.
Thus then when shame had ouertoke,
this worthy knight, then loe:
In midst of all the darkesome night,
from house and friends they goe.
To water side, and there doe wayte,
when lofty ship shall glyde:
On foming seas, the winde is good,
for them on seas to ryde.
They do inquire if any ship,
to countrey farre will wende:
To whome the Master aunswere made,
that straight they did intende,
To hoyse their sayles and to departe,
to Egipt in all hast:
Agreed they are, they hoyse their sayles,
to sayle away at last.
The lande they leaue, into the deepe,
they launce with winde at will:
The mighty shippe the hollowe waues,
at euery surge doth fill.
The night is gone and day is come,
wherein eche thing doth ioy:
And here the lusty fish begin,
at paynted pupe to toy.
With fetching frischoes here and there,
with spready finne in sea:
And seemeth who fastest should swimme,
some wager for to lay.
They sayled haue and now at length,
neere Egipt they ariue:
The Master of the ship doth like,
the beautie of the wife,
Of Plasidas, and doth delight,
his wauering wanton minde:
With rolling in his diuelish brayne,
the beautie of hir kinde.
She pleased hath his lothfull eyes,
with beauties shining beames:
Fro whence sometime did yssue out,
of teares abundant streames.
Then at the last when vnto land,
they drewe, and playne did see:
The touret tops, and knewe full well,
how far from lande they be.
The Master of the ship did say,
yon passangers we see:
That nere to land our ship is come,
therefore nowe ready be.
For that you haue your fraught to pay,
as due it is by right:
Come on sir boy, launce out this boate,
the towne is here in sight.
The anker then through flashing floud,
a way doth make for holde:
And there to ryde from daungers great,
the Master is full bolde.
The Master and the Mariners guide,
the cocke boate vnto lande:
Then he his fraight for to receiue,
he stretcheth forth his hande.
Yet nought at all from Plasidas,
might hap in any wayes:
For all was gone, and naught was left,
before he toke the seas.
Why Plasidas the Master sayd,
thy wife Ile haue away:
If that thou wilt not out of hand,
my duetie to me pay.
Then out of hande he toke his wife,
Plasidas being on shoare:
And sayd, yu friend thou shuldst haue sought
thy frayght to pay before.
Therefore I say thy wife with me,
away from hence shall wende:
With whome Plasidas all in vayne,
did labour and contende,
To kepe hir still, the Master straight,
his Mariners bad to bring:
Plasidas loe in midst of seas,
by furious force to fling.
So that his wife the Master he,
at will might then possesse:
His wilfulnesse brought him his death,
in thende as I doe gesse.
Well Plasidas must needes departe,
whether he will or nay:
For money none at all he had,
as then, the frayght to pay.
But from the shoares of surging seas,
with heauy minde doth wende:
And for to liue in Egipt lande,
he verily doth intende.
With his two babes of tender yeares,
so faire in natures grace:
The one on fathers armes hanging,
doth followe on a pace,
The other he doth runne afore,
with euery grasse to play:
His father mery for to make,
all meanes he doth assay.
At length wher flashing streames of flouds,
the shoares doth cleane deuide:
They are ariued, and there they stande,
the maner to decide,
How for to passe those troublesome waues
for needes that way he must:
Unto the towne, O Fortune thou
to good men neuer iust,
Who earst a loft in chaire of state,
was wonte in peace to syt:
Is now in floudes of miserie,
and thou not leauing it,
Doest adde more care vnto his payne,
thy fashion it is so:
Bycause thou wouldest that all men shuld
take thee for friend nor foe.
What mourning makes ye wight good lord
whome wife is borne fro:
And taking vp his yongest sonne,
from dolefull shoares doth go.
To thother side where woodes and trees,
on fertile ground doth stande:
He is ariued, and there doth set,
his tender childe on lande.
And entring nowe the rushing waues,
that soundes with noyse so shrill:
He doth approch the hollow waues,
in myddest thereof to fill.
When he in myddest was thereof,
there came a Woulfe and tooke:
The tender childe who late before,
was borne ouer the brooke,
And bare away, but God who made,
the heauen, the earth and all:
Did so prouide that once no hurt,
vnto it should befall.
He seeing then his childe was gone,
with dolefull minde he cride:
Oh wicked wretch and miser vile,
what shall of me betide?
And comming nowe to the other side,
his eldest sonne to catch:
A Lion huge from wood doth come,
and thother vp doth snatch.
Which straight doth trudge from thence away,
vnto the wood agayne:
A heauy sight for Plasidas,
in this his dolefull payne.
But Plasidas pore soule doth striue,
his childe to get agayne:
But he pore wretch of very truth,
laboureth all in vayne.
When that he sawe no helpe there was,
good Lorde he doth lament:
But mighty God the childe to saue,
hath rescue ready sent.
The countrey men that were as then,
a plowing in the fielde:
The heard men eke that sheepe did kepe,
did stand and all behelde.
Where as a Lion huge did runne,
and eke with him did beare:
A manly childe, and loked as though,
in pieces he would teare.
Then out they sent their hungry dogs,
the Lion to ouertake.
And so at length the Lion he,
the childe did quite forsake.
The Woulfe likewise to beare the childe,
already hath begunne:
Through mydst of the plow men there,
and they at him do runne
With battes and staues, the praye he left,
and there the childe they founde:
A comely wight, no hurt he had,
But was both whole and sounde.
The plowe men and the heard men both,
are ioyous of this thing:
That chaunced hath, and to the towne,
the children both they bring.
There they declare how that they toke,
these tender babes of age:
From beasts ful fierce, & how they brought
them home to their village.
These men they were both of one towne,
and set the babes to schole:
To learne such things as after they,
thereby their life might rule.
Nowe leaue we here a while and stay,
and let vs furder heare:
Of Plasidas how he doth range,
in dolefull heauy cheare.
He passed is the watrie streames,
of that vnhappy shoare:
With sobbes and teares his cares & smart,
increaseth more and more.
And then at last vpon the ground,
prostrate on face he lies:
Haue mercy Lord on me vile wretch,
continually he cries.
Thou god that madest both heauen & erth,
the sea and eke eche thing:
Which al the windes from out their caues,
and hollowe rockes dost bring.
That madest the world and eke eche beast,
that liueth now therein:
Who makest pore, and eke dost cause,
of pore to ryse a King.
Who made the Sea, the fish, the foule,
that flies vnder the Skies:
Who rules the very iawes of beastes,
in whome all force now lies.
Who placed first the heauenly throne,
of thy Godhead diuine:
Who eke hath made within the world,
both houres, dayes and time.
Thou that didst make the firmament,
with Stars shining so bright:
Thou that for day didst make the Sunne,
mens steps to guide aright.
Thou that hast made the planets seauen,
in spheares to runne their race:
Thou that next to the croked Moone,
the burning flame doest place.
And next to it a vacant place,
where aire doth all abounde:
The water eke which compasse doth,
the heauy massiue grounde.
That hast to man such power giuen,
thy noble workes to knowe:
And yet on him of thy good grace,
dost dayly more bestowe.
Graunt vnto me thy seruaunt here,
one sparke of thy good grace:
That in this land I may now finde,
some ioyfull resting place.
Euen I that wretch who is deuoyde,
of wife and children twaine:
Giue pacience Lord, to me pore wretch,
though languished in payne.
Haue mercy on my children deare,
where so their corps shall lie:
Haue mercy on their parent eke,
who liues in miserie.
This sayde, vnto the towne he goeth,
and ceasseth not to weepe:
For children twaine, at last he commeth,
in middest of the streate.
And there the men of that same towne,
do Plasidas desire:
To kepe their sheepe, and so he should,
of them receyue his hire.
Agreed they are, and Plasidas,
his sheepe full well doth knowe:
And now forthwith vnto the fieldes,
his sheepe and he do goe.
Now leaue we heare of Plasidas,
in shepheardes weede for gayne:
Sometime he was a noble Lorde,
but now more pore certayne.
But now we forth will shewe the meane,
how God did all prouide:
For mother and the children eke,
as it may well be spide
In ende, for loe, the fatall wretch,
hath his rewarde with gayne:
His great desire was once the cause,
why that his corps was slayne.
For when on lofty roaring waues,
he was with winde at will:
He then in hast would strayght assay,
his lust for to fulfill.
But as he would by force of armes,
haue wrought the deedely acte:
The mighty God with death repayde,
this his purposed facte.
And there in shippe all deade he lies,
whose lust did cause his woe:
The mariners lament this case,
and eke to lande they goe.
With hir, on shoare to set, and eke
more victuals for to buy:
When winde is faire to cuntry soyle,
agayne that they may hye.
And much they prayse hir constancie,
hir beautie and hir grace:
Hir faithfulnesse vnto hir Loue,
in this hir heauie case.
The Lorde they praise and honor him,
with all their might they haue:
That so of his benignitie,
his blessed flocke can saue.
Then when to shore their boate was come,
she there hir leaue doth take:
And willingly not with them any
longer soiorne to make.
Doth wende vnto a towne thereby,
intending there to liue:
Untill that God shall see his tyme,
hir from hir cares to meue.
Thus fiftene yeares all desolate,
she liues in widdowes ray:
Hir honest life not one there is,
in all that towne that may
Distaine. And loe it so befell,
since Plasidas was gone:
That enimies the Romane lande,
do vexe and warre vpon.
At whome the King enuying sore,
doth warre on them beginne:
But all in vaine his trauell was,
he lost, and nought could winne.
Then of his Knight good Plasidas
to thinke he doth beginne:
And wishing alwayes that he were,
in Romane land with him.
At length the King doth sende abrode,
through many a place and towne:
His lusty Knightes in hast to seeke,
Plasidas of renowme.
And bring him home to Romane lande.
where earst he was the Knight:
That did most harme vnto his foes,
by mortall dint of fight.
And who that findes the same in ende,
the king would honour giue:
With riches eke in honour great,
all dayes of life to liue.
Within the armie of the King,
two Knightes there were certayne:
Who euer vnder Plasidas,
in warres did much remayne.
They into Egipt land do goe,
some newes for to heare tell:
Of Plasidas, and loe they chaunce,
in streate where he doth dwell.
And Plasidas from field doth come,
as they were entred in:
Then to inquire of Plasidas,
the Knightes doe now begin.
If that he knewe not one, within
that towne that had to name:
Plasidas, who of chiualrie,
did beare away the fame.
He aunswered them, and sayd forsooth,
no such man I doe knowe:
But yet he doth the Knightes desire,
vnto his house to goe.
And take such things as he poore soule,
vnto them then might giue:
Which might their weary faynting lims,
from wearinesse relieue.
With whom they went with al their harts
and their repastes did take:
With such small cheere as he good man,
at that time could them make.
But when he did reuolue in minde,
the state that he was in:
Sometime with them, good Lord therefore,
to weepe he doth begin.
Then went he out from chamber where,
the Knightes did then remaine:
To wash his face, and afterwardes,
returne to them againe.
But whilest he was from them a time,
they thought that it was he:
Whome they appoynted were to seeke,
and so agreed they be,
At his retourne for to demaund,
some licence and some leaue:
To see a wounde which sometime he,
in battayle did receaue.
At length he commes, and they to him,
with gentle wordes doe speake:
Good sir sayd they, much like thou arte,
to him whome we doe seeke.
Therefore of thee we do desire,
this one thing for to loke
Upon thy head, for such a wounde,
that he in battayle toke.
They then behelde the wound, and knewe,
full well that it was he:
No tong can then expresse their ioy,
fulfilled so they be.
With stretched armes they him embrace,
desiring him to tell:
Where that his children are become,
and where his wife doth dwell.
Then aunswered he and sayd his sonnes,
were refte of vitall breath:
And as he thought, his wife likewise,
tasted of cruell death.
And howe the Master had his wife,
vnto the Knightes he tolde:
And how by force of armes from him,
his wife he did with holde.
This done, in hast throughout the land,
reporte doth blowe this thing:
The neyghboures then do hast vnto,
Plasidas pore lodging.
With maruelling, much like vnto
a swarme of bees they goe:
About the house and there the knightes,
their message forth do shew.
And then they ray sir Plasidas,
with vestementes of price:
Then from their seates to walke a while,
the lusty Knightes arise.
In hast they leaue that ioyfull soyle,
and homewarde do they wende:
They are ariued in Romane lande,
ere fyftene dayes were ende.
The Emperour then when that he heard,
that Eustas was at hande:
Doth ioy that God hath sent this Knight,
agayne vnto his lande.
Now Trayan he doth ryde in hast,
Plasidas for to meete:
And ioyfull Trayan Plasidas,
his louing friend doth greete.
Then Trayan with Plasidas,
vnto his court doth goe:
With great frequent of people that,
behind them did followe.
When he came there, of al his happes,
he doth declare and tell:
Of all the woes and miseries,
that vnto hym befell.
How his wife was taken him fro,
how children both were slayne:
And how himselfe nowe fyftene yeares,
did liue in dolefull payne.
From thence they goe to banketting,
to reuels and to play:
In dauncing and in minstrelsie,
they spend that lucky day.
And Plasidas is made I say,
Lieutenant of the bande:
And all the ordering of the warres,
is put into his hande.
He then before him calles the Knightes,
and doth their number take:
Intending vp an armie great,
in hast forthwith to make.
And doth commaund that strayght,
eche towne to him should sende:
Two lusty men with Plasidas,
vnto the warres to wende.
It happened so that that same towne,
two souldiers forth must make:
Which from the Lion and the Woulfe,
those tender babes did take.
At length the townes men do agree,
that both these children should:
Goe with the Knight with willing mindes
and heartes, euen so they would.
The countrie men these souldiers twayne,
did bring vnto the Knight:
Their maners and their comelie shape,
did much his minde delight.
Wherefore with first at table he,
hath placed the same to be:
Bycause in them such noblenesse,
of maners he did see.
The day is come, to battayle they,
must wende euen out of hand:
And now they must the great assault,
of cruell foes withstande.
The battayles great on eyther part,
the flames do reach the Skie:
The roaring sound of Canons shot,
the force of walles doth trie.
The Knightes with launce in hand I say,
do pearce throughout the throng:
The souldier doth assay to lay,
his enimie all along.
The battayle standes in doubt of truth,
which side shall other beate:
Here martch they on amayne and there,
they blowe agayne retreate.
Here all along on ground they lie,
and here from tourets hie:
The deadly shaft through misley cloudes,
aloft in Skies doe flie.
And here in flesh it lightes full deepe,
and giues a deadly wound:
And in an other parte there is,
a thousand brought to ground.
Here fighteth Plasidas full harde,
in midst of all the throng:
And here the children parent like,
slay enimies along.
They forwarde doe retire in hast,
and men afore do lacke:
And Plasidas assayles his foes,
behinde vpon their backe.
The wings that were the ayde and helpe,
of foote men, goe their way:
The battayles lost, all through defacde,
of keping their aray.
The wings are fled, and battayle must
by footemen stand a while:
The battayls great, but at the length,
they are brought to exile.
The enimies flie from fielde amaine,
and Romanes followe styll:
Upon the chase, for they did minde,
their cruell foes to kyll.
Retreate is blowen, and home agayne,
to campe the souldiers hie:
That willing were, eyther their foes,
or they in chase to die.
The towne is made full strong and sure,
with rampiers for shotte:
And eke eche syde of all the towne,
with munition is hotte.
The scaling lathers downe to throwe,
they haue their iron staues:
They haue their hatchets for to cut,
in sunder all their raues.
Some stand with slings from far to strike,
the Romane armies great:
Some stand with billes those that assault,
with furious force to beate:
The pike men they on walles doe stande,
their towne for to defende:
And some from towre with bow in hande,
the graygoose wing do sende.
The labourers do mende the walles,
with gonshot all to shake:
The townes men all within the towne,
do seeke defence to make.
And sluises al are opened,
to stop the enimies way:
Least that to scale their walles by night,
the enimie doe assay.
The night is come, and it doth parte
the armies for that time:
The watch man he aloft in towre,
beginneth for to clime.
The warde at gate is kept all night,
the souldiers stand in ray:
That when the onset shall be giuen,
resist their foes they may.
The night is gone, and breake of day,
beginneth to drawe nie:
By which the watch man in the towre,
the armie may discrie.
And see from farre howe Plasidas,
doth order all his bande:
How that he telleth them the way,
their foes for to withstande.
He doth declare, as he can deeme,
what number that they be:
And doth espie if any troupe,
of horse men he may see.
That doth aproch vnto the towne,
for to increase their feare:
Plasidas sent horse men forth,
to range both here and there.
To see if that they enter would,
from towne, and would descend:
In open fielde by force of armes,
their citie to defende.
But they within did kepe themselues,
in order for to fight:
Then had the day quite droue away,
the lothsome mystes of nyght.
And Plasidas his comely trayne,
vnto the walles doth bring:
The which the watch man well perceyued,
and al arme out doth ring.
To walles they goe both tagge and ragge,
their Citie to defende:
And euery man his businesse,
doth duely nowe intende.
The pushing pikes stand next the walles,
their enimies downe to fling:
The stelly boyes the heauy earth,
on shoulders thither bring.
The sunne from depth of Occean sea,
did scarce himselfe areare:
When as the Romane armie did,
before the towne appeare.
And then the gonnes the way doe make,
through walles of stone and bricke:
And eke the flames of fiers do,
the tops of houses licke.
The Romanes, they bring to the walles,
their scaling lathers hie:
With iron hookes, vnto the tops
of houses for to tie.
Now all the walles of Romanes stout,
is filled to the ende:
And more and more continually,
vpon the walles ascende.
The towne is wonne, and Plasidas
in midst thereof is set:
And all their labour is as nowe,
the spoyle thereof to get.
The towne to dust is quite consumde,
and burnt with scorching fire:
The trumpets sound triumphantly,
to cause their men retire.
Then after when the towne is wonne,
and all was brought to ground:
A resting place for all his bande,
there in a towne he found.
In which his wife did dwell, and kept
a house for hostage there:
To whome hir sonnes for harbor then,
vnto hir do repaire,
Not knowing what she was, in deede,
they there their restes doe take:
And for their noble victories,
great ioy they oft do make.
At last the yonger doth desire,
the elder for to tell:
His yong estate, and what to him,
in childehode oft befell.
Whose talke the silly mother oft,
did listen much to knowe:
Some newes by warriers stoutly done,
and afterwardes might showe.
The same vnto hir friendes that list,
oft times of warres to talke:
Therefore full oft I say she doth,
before the chamber walke.
At last the eldest sayd, good friend,
I doe remember well:
Howe that my father rulde the Knightes,
of Rome that did excell.
And eke a Lady faire I had,
to mother well I knowe:
Two children eke they had full fayre,
I well remember so.
My yonger brother was full faire,
surmounting in degree:
All other men, so rich he was,
with giftes of dame beautie.
Long did they liue in ioy and blisse,
within that lande I know:
But yet by night he toke a shippe,
and from that lande did goe.
Unto a countrey not farre thence,
the name I doe not knowe:
The shippe is come vnto the porte,
and then to land we goe.
My mother she behinde was left,
but howe I can not say:
But as I iudge, the Master he,
my mother there did stay.
And then from thence we did depart,
vnto a towne thereby:
With heauy minde, vntill he came,
vnto a great ferry.
And there he set me downe on ground,
and ouer strayght he bore:
His yonger sonne ouer the floud,
vnto the other shore.
And entring now the floud agayne,
me thither for to fetch:
A cruel Woulfe my brother yong,
vp in his mouth doth catch.
And wendes his way vnto the wood,
my brother loud doth cry:
My father still he striued harde,
agayne to me to hie.
But out alas, a Lion huge,
came from the wood amaine:
And snaccht vp me, and to the wood
he did returne agayne.
But when the Lion great and tall,
the heard men they doe see:
Their dogs they set vpon the beast,
and so they saued me.
The yonger sayd, my brother deare,
euen as I heard it tolde:
The plowmen toke me from a Woulfe,
which had me in his holde.
By that thou saydst, coniecture I,
thy brother that I am:
Loe happy day they both doe say,
that vnto warres we came.
The ioy that they doe make forsoth,
no tong can it expresse:
No heart can thinke, no eye hath seene,
such blessed ioyfulnesse.
The mother then hath heard their talke,
and ponder it well doth she:
And doth reuolue within hir minde,
if that hir babes they be.
Then vnto Plasidas she goeth,
and doth desire him sone:
That he would let hir goe with him,
for she was borne at Rome.
And as to him these wordes she spake,
in sounding she oft fell:
And cried at length, O Plasidas,
I knowe thee very well.
I am thy wife pore Theopis,
which taken was thee fro:
In midst of floudes, when thou from ship,
vnto the land didst goe.
The mighty God of heauen and earth,
for thee hath kept me cleane:
The Master he for his deserte,
By darte of death is slayne.
Then Plasidas doth well perceyue,
his wife, his loue and make:
His heart, his life, and vnto him,
in armes he doth hir take.
What ioy was there I can not tell,
my fingers weary be:
To write the same, my eyes like that,
in world did neuer see.
The wife the husband doth embrace,
the man the wife likewise:
The ioy to shewe, the teares doe gushe,
like streames from out their eyes.
And in their ioy, the wife demaundes,
where that hir children be:
Then he did say, my louing wife,
their deaths my selfe did see.
Two cruel beastes with foming mouthes,
our children both hath slayne:
Then sayd his wife be of good cheere,
aliue they both remaine.
For loe, the God which vnto vs,
this ioyfull meeting gaue:
By his good grace and power diuine,
did both our children saue.
Then him she tolde how souldiers twaine,
their infancie did showe:
And strayght he sent for those yong men,
the truth of them to knowe.
The children both vnto him come,
and eche of them doth tell:
His infancie, by which he knoweth,
they be hys sonnes full well,
He then doth kisse and eke embrace,
those tender babes of his:
The armie then for newes hereof,
in heart right ioyfull is.
They spende those dayes in ioy and blisse,
and after do intende:
To Romane lande triumphantly,
his hoste and he to wende.
But whilest in warres he did abyde,
good Trayan was deade:
And Adrian in the Empire,
succeeded in his steade.
Who in all mischieues did abounde,
as stories vs doe tell:
For persecuting of the truth,
he did the rest excell.
When Plasidas to Rome was come,
and did a time soiourne:
Then Adrian did him commaund,
his Idols to adourne.
For that the Romanes did possesse,
so great a victorie:
But Plasidas would not so doe,
he playnely did deny,
That they were Gods, and vnto him,
they nought at all could giue:
He sayd by Christ, in Christ it was,
that he in world did liue.
Then Adrian commaunded that,
deuoured they should be:
Of a Lion in Church, whereas
his Goddes the facte might see.
And so it was as he commaunde,
perfourmed eke and done:
The Lion he most ioyfully,
vnto their feete doth come.
And there doth lie much like a dogge,
cum caude that doth play:
And from their feete no man ywis,
can get the beast away.
But there he lies and mery makes,
he doth no hurt at all:
Then Adrian doth strayght commaunde,
his men them forth to call,
And doth commaund that they be put,
in Oxe of brasse to die:
But nought they care, in Iesus Christ
they had their trust wholly.
The Oxe with flame is thorow hote,
and they are put therein:
And ioyfully in Christ they all,
to sing do then beginne.
Thus ended they their mortall race,
their life was at an ende:
That we may so indure good Lorde,
to vs thy mercy sende.