University of Virginia Library

BOOK V. Her bigynneth þe fifft boke, & þe laste, of Troye.

Whan Eolus, which doþ þe windes rore,
Apesid was, þat he blewe no more,
—Which is of stormys gouernour & lord—
And was also fully of accord
Wiþ myȝti Iuno, lady of þe eyr,
To make þe skye and þe wedir fair,
Þat cloude noon in heuene dide appere,
And Neptunus, blaundisshing of chere,
Was of assent, þe stori seith forsoþe,
To make þe se fro tempest calm & smoþe,
With-oute boilyng or trouble of [any] wawe,—
Þe myȝti Grekis to shipward gan hem drawe
For to repeire home to her contre,
After þei had wonnen þe cite,
Put her fomen fully at þe worse.
But Fortune, ay froward and peruerse,
Hath with her myrthe meynt aduersite:
For whan þei wende ful assurid be,
And haue stonde stedefast in quiete,
Þis blinde lady falsly made flete
In-to her sugre galle of discordance,
Amonge hem silf to bring in variaunce,
And her hertis, of rancour & of pride,
Contagiously to seueryn & deuyde,
Whan þei sat hiest in her glorie,
With þe palme of conquest & victorie,
Fully reioyssinge, þoruȝ her hiȝe renoun,
Þe crowne of laurer in possessioun,
And had also at her lust al wonne,—
Whan briȝtest shon þe lusti freshe sonne
From Est to west of her worþines,
A cloudy sky vnwarly with dirknesse
Eclipsed hath a parti of her liȝt,
And diffacid þe holsom bemys briȝt
Of her welfare and prosperite,
By þenvious fals contagiouste
Of þe serpent, pompos and elat,
Amonge hem silfe to make hem at debat,
Inducinge in rancour and discord:
For or þei entre with-Inne shippes bord,
Ageyn Vlixes worþi Thelamoun,
In presence of kyng Agamenoun,
Purposed hath, pleinly, his matere
To-fore Grekis, a-noon as ȝe shal here.

How Thelamon, in presence of Kyng Agamenon, vttred his grugge agayn Kyng Vlixes.

“Sirs,” quod he, “so it ȝow nat greue,
Me semeþ iustly of resoun I may meve,
Touching þe wynnyng & geting of þis toun,
With gold, richesse, and possessioun,
Fully deliuered and taken to oure hond,
With al þe tresour founden in þe lond,—
Þe whiche, me þinkeþ in myn inward siȝt,
Ne hath nat bene departed halfe a-riȝt
Amonges vs, by iust diuisioun,
Nor be egal distribusioun—
Considred first, by title of equite,
Of euery wyȝt þestat and dignite,
Remembrid eke, in þis sharp[e] shour,
Þe worþines, [þe] merite, & labour,
And decertis in þis mortal strif,
Graunting to eueryche his prerogatif
Lik fortune as he hath disseruyd.
But þis ordre hath nat ben obserued,
Amonges vs, with-oute excepcioun,
In delyuerance of Palladioun,
Whiche Vlixes, I seie with-oute drede,
To-fore ȝou alle vniustly doth possede,
On hym vsurpinge by fals oppinioun,
By meritorie retribucioun
And apparence his title for to gronde,
Vnder pretense of colour, falsly founde,
Þat he þis relik reioisshe shulde of riȝt,
Be sleiȝte wonne raþer þan of myȝt,
And vsurpeth, be maner of avaunt,
As it were ȝoue to hym by graunt
Of ȝou echon for a chef guerdoun.
But I wil make a replicacioun,
Þat þis relik is nat to hym mete,
Whiche he shal nat reioisshe in quiete,
Ȝif þat I may disturben hym or lette:
For I it cleyme duely of dette
As for guerdoun to me conuenient;
So þat ȝe list to bene indifferent,
Of resoun only, as it doth ȝou seme,
Atwen vs two egally to deme,
Iustly, first, with euery circumstaunce,
Oure ouþer merit weied in ballaunce,
First considered—ȝif it may availle—
Mi dilligence & my gret travaille
Þat I endured forþe fro day to day
Al þe while þat þe sege lay,
Þat ȝe shulde of plente of vitaille
On no side for no meschef faille.
And ȝif I shal, with-oute avaunt, oute breke,
As of knyȝthod and armys for to speke:
In þe feld by longe contynuaunce
Of manly force and perseueraunce,
Vp-on oure foon, þat wer so fel & kene,
Day by day I was armyd clene—
It nedeth nat to make mencioun,
With my riȝt hond how I slowe Philemoun,
As ȝe wel know, which had in his keping
Þe ȝong[e] sone of Priamus þe kyng,
Freshe and lusti, and of gret fairnesse,
And with hym had infinit richesse,
Of tresour, gold passingly plente,
And euerydel was brouȝt to ȝou by me,
Ȝif ȝe remembre & list take hede,
Þat ȝe were quyte of indigence & nede
By occasioun of þat gret[e] good.
And þoruȝ my manhod shad I nat þe blood,
Merciles, in ful cruel wyse,
For ȝoure sake of þe kyng of Fryse,
And þe tresour in his cofres souȝt,
And al y-fere to þe sege y-brouȝt?
And be my knyȝthod, sith[en] go ful ȝore,
Haue I nat eke awmentid & made more
Þe Grekis lond with possessiouns,
By conquest only of two regiouns,
Þoruȝ my prudence & my labour wonne,
Siþen þat ȝe þe sege first begonne,
With provinces to Troye adiacent?—
To ȝoure encres I was so dillygent!
And with Achilles, þe worþi werrioure,
Ȝe bene expert ful wel of my labour,
Þat we wrouȝt to ȝoure avauntage!
And siþen ȝe so prudent ben & sage,
Nat forȝetil, but fully remembring,
It nedeth nat rehersen euery þing.
And to dispreve, manly as a knyȝt,
His title and cleime þat he hath no riȝt,
—Þe doom committyng to ȝoure oppiniouns—
Be rehersaille of his condic[i]ouns:
He nouþer haþ manhod nor prowes,
Force, knyȝthod, nouþer hardines,
And, at a point for to haue rewarde,
In doring do preved a coward!
Experience hath shewed ȝow, in dede,
How þat he is, whan it commeth to nede,
But word & wynd & sleiȝti compassyng,
And on falshede euere ymagynyng:
For neuere ȝit to þis day was preved,
Þat eny þing was by hym acheved
Whiche myȝt be entitled to his laude,
But þe ende medlid were with fraude.
For vnder colour he can curen al,
Pretende fair, liche a peinted wal,
Diuers hewed, þat nouþer hiȝe nor low,
Þer may no man his pleyn[e] menyng know!
And with swiche sleiȝt compassid be tresoun,
Oute of Troye he gat Palladyoun,
Whiche is gret shame & sklaunder to us alle:
For of oure conquest it is þus be-falle,
More of tresoun we haue þe cite wonne
Þanne of knyȝthod, [as] men report[e] kone.
And crop & rote, ȝif I reherse shal,
Vlixes here is grounde & cause of al,
And gynnynge first of þis vnhappi fame
Þat reboundeth to oure alder shame!
And siþ þe trouþe is platly knowe & wist,
Mi tale is ended,—demeth as ȝou list.”

How Kyng Vlixes vnderstode the maleys of Thelamon, and of þe great stryff, and [how] Aiax was slayn.

Vlixes þanne, in his aduertence
Conceived hath þe grete inpacience
Of Thelamoun, and þe grete envie,
Þe fervent rancour & malencolie,
For-bar hym first, be ful gret avis,
As he þat was ful prudent & ful wys,
And þouȝt he wolde make þer-of no Iape,
By no word for haste þat shuld eskape,
Nouþer by noon vnbridled contenaunce
Outward conceived in his dalyaunce,
And abraiding, wiþ a stable face,
“Sirs,” quod he, “so I may haue grace,
Vnder support of ȝoure hiȝe presence,
Þat my tale may haue audience,
I nouþer am in doute nor in drede,
Of equite þat I shal possede
Palladioun duringe my lives day,
Maugre þe myȝt of who[-so] þat seie nay.
For ȝif ȝe list of resoun for to se,
At þe sege leide first to þis cite
I haue my silfe in double wyse aquit,
As wel by knyȝthod, sothly, as by wit,
And þoruȝ my counseil & my besy cure
Ben oft cause of her discounfeture,
Ay dilligent to ȝoure avauntage,
Wrouȝt & compassid [vn-]to her damage,
Þat to þis day, in soth, ne hadde I be,
Þei had floured in her felicite,
In her force contuned and welfare.
And ȝif þat I þe trouþe shal nat spare,
Ȝif it be dempt & loked of resoun,
I was most cause of her confusioun,
Who-so-euere ageyn[e]s it replie!
How ofte went I on embassatrie,
With importable costis & dispense,
Þe trete ay concludinge in sentence
To þe forþering of ȝoure entencioun,
And disencrese & hindringe of þe toun!
And whan I sawe oþer mene noon,
In myn avis and wittis euerychon,
By oure force þe cite for to wynne
While þei hadde þe relik hem with-Inne,
Þer-vp-on so sotilly y wrouȝt,
Þat vn-to ȝow Palladyoun I brouȝt,—
Whiche Thelamoun, þat of malis stryveth,
Of olde hatrede vn-to my gilt ascriveþ
Hooly þis þing þat I haue for ȝow wrouȝt.
But ȝe, þat ben so prudent in ȝoure þouȝt,
Aduerteth wisly and an ende maketh,
And in ȝoure hond þis quarel fully takeþ,
Palladyoun iustly to prouyde,
And al favour late be leide a-side
Sith al þis þing ȝe platly vnderstonde,
And lete vs boþe to ȝoure demynge stonde
By oon assent, how-so þe mater wende—
Lo, here is al—my tale is at an ende.”
Þanne Thelamoun, in Ire ful feruent,
Of [inward] hate made inpacient,
And of envie inwardly amevid,
Vlixes hath [de]spitously reprevid,
Only of malis and of hiȝe disdeyn;
And Vlixes rebukyng him ageyn
Ful bitterly, with-oute abood anoon,—
And so þei tweyne made ful mortal foon
In þe presence of Agamenoun.
But furiously Aiax Thelamoun,
Of malencolie pale & no þing red,
Þratte Vlixes þat he shal be ded
Of his hondis—he shuld it nat eschewe!
And Grekes þo, al rancour to remewe,
Þis quarel putte in arbitracioun
Of Menelay and Agamenoun,
Þat caused after a ful mortal strif:
For, be sentence anoon diffinitif,
Þei putte Vlixes in possessioun
Perpetuelly of Palladyoun,
With hym confermyng to abide stable.
And cause why þei were favourable
To Vlixes, lyche as Guydo writ,
Was for þat he so goodly hath him quit
Vn-to Eleyne at getyng of þe toun,
Beynge in cause of hir saluacioun,
Dispeired and of hir lyf in drede,
Grekis willinge to haue had hir dede.
But þoruȝ his prudent mediacioun,
Maugre þe myȝt of þis Thelamoun,
He hath þe quene fro [þe] deth preservid,
Al-be þat she hadde it wel deseruyd,
As Grekis seide in þeir oppinioun.
And þus diffrauded of Palladyoun,
As ȝe haue herde, was þis worþi knyȝt,
For al his manhod & his grete myȝt;
Wher-þoruȝ þer gan in his hert[e] brede
Passinge envie & ful gret hatrede,
And þouȝt he wolde avengid be som day
Vp-on Vlixes and on Menelay,
And eke also vp-on Agamenoun;
And oute he brak like a wode lyoun,
With his knyȝtes aboute him þat wer stronge,
And seide, pleinly, of þis grete wronge,
For to be ded, he wolde avenged be,
And specially on þis ilke þre.
And þer-with-al, furious and wroth,
Tornynge his bak oute anon he goth,
In herte fret with ful mortal tene,
With many Greke his quarel to sustene,
Þat in herte sore gan disdeyne
Ageyn Vlixes and þe toþer tweyne.
But þei ful war, what-so-euere falle,
Her knyȝtes made aboute hem for to calle,
And with gret stuf, wher þei wake or slepe,
To waite on hem & manly for to kepe
With ful good wache enviroun al þe cloos.
But ful erly or þe sonne aroos,
Þis worþi Aiax in his bed vp-riȝt
I-mordrid was, þe silue same nyȝt,
And al be-bled in þe morwe founde,
On pecis hewe with many mortal wounde,—
Þat for þis þing, cruel and horrible,
To God & man lothsom & odyble,
Ful many Greke þat woful morwe wep
To sen a knyȝt so mordrid in his slep,
Þat þe cri and þe noise ran
Þoruȝ-oute þe hoste anon fro man to man.
And for constreint of þis foule dede,
Eueryche of hem felt his herte blede,
Ful desirous to make an ordinaunce
On þis mordre for to do vengaunce,
Havinge þer-of gret suspecioun
To Menelay and Agamenoun,
But to Vlixes moste in special,
By comoun vois to him arettinge al,—
Þe foule fame he myȝt[e] nat asterte.
But Pirrus moste toke þis þing at herte,
Makynge a vowe, furious and wood,
To be vengid, pleynly, on þe blood
Of Thelamoun, vp-on Vlixes hed,
Hym manascinge þat he shal be ded,
So sore on hym freting was þe sorwe.
But Vlixes erly on a morwe,
For drede of Pirrus taken hath þe se,
And with his shippes fast[e] gan to fle.
But or he went, platly, as I rede,
Palladyoun he toke to Dyomede,
Hauynge in herte a ful gret remors.
And Pirrus þanne taken hath þe cors
Of Thelamoun, for loue in special,
And dide make a flawme funeral,
Large & gret, of colis hoot & rede;
And amyddes þe feruent firy glede,
Ful many Greke stondynge to biholde,
He let hit brenne in-to asshes colde.
And, in þe story after as Is tolde,
He closed hem in an vrne of golde
Ful reuerently, & after hath it shet;
And þer-vp-on he hath þe prent [y-]set
Of his armys, coriously y-graue,
From al meschef þe asshes for to saue,
And sent hem home by gret affeccioun
To be conserued in þe regioun
Where he was kyng while he was a-lyue;
And euery þing was parformed blive,
After þe rytes in þo daies vsid.
And euere in oon Pirrus hath y-mvsid
Vp-on þe mordre traitourly y-wrouȝt,
And caste it shulde be ful dere abouȝt,
Þe pitous deth of þis Thelamoun,
Hauynge ay herte to Agamenoun,
And hadde eke suspect olde Menelay,—
Þat in a-wait eche for oþer lay,
Makynge hem silfe with her knyȝtes strong,
To trien oute who hath riȝt or wrong:
For Pirrus nolde lete it liȝtly goon.
And þus þei wern maked mortal foon,
Þis ilke þre, platly, to þe deth,
Þoruȝ false envie whiche her hertes sleth.
And while þei wern among hem silfe vntrewe,
Strif vp-on strif gan euery day renewe,
And debatis for to mvltiplie,
Til Anthenor gan þis þing espie,
And, by his wisdam, to stinten al disdeyn
Hem recounciled vn-to pes ageyn,
And caused hem to accorde in al,
And after made a feste ful royal,
Beseching hem ful lowly, alle þre,
To graunten hym þer-at for to be,
Of gentilnesse, þat Grekis myȝt echon
Outward conceive þat þei were al oon.
And to þis feste he manly made calle,
As writ Guydo, þe worþi Grekis alle—
Of hiȝe nor lowe was noon excepcioun.
But ȝif I shulde make descripcioun,
How þe lordes and estates sete,
Of sondry coursis, & þe ȝiftes grete
Þat Anthenor ȝaf on euery side,
It were to longe to ȝou for to abide,
Þer was of plente so gret suffisaunce.
And, I finde, þei fil in daliaunce,
Sittinge at mete, to speken of Enee,
Brouȝte In of hate & of enmyte,
And of disdeyn, shortly in sentence,—
Þei putte on him many grete offence,
And specially, in her hasti tene,
Whilom how he conceiled Policene,
And by his sleiȝte made hir be withdraw,
Which was in cause Achilles was slawe—
Shortly concluding, by oon oppinioun,
His final exile oute of Troie toun,
Not-with-stondinge þe graunt & liberte
Ȝoven to hym tabide in þe cyte,
Al-so longe as hym list deuise.
But Grekis han annullid his fraunchise,
Fro þe lowest vp on-to þe meste,
Þat wern present at þis hiȝe feste;
But dout[e]les I can nat wel espie
By whom was wrouȝt þis conspiracie,
In Troie boke I finde can no more,
Saue þat hym silfe witte it Anthenor—
I-liche false boþe in o degre,
As ȝe haue herd, betraisshinge þe cite,
Liche as þei hadde spronge out of o rote!
And whan he knewe þer was noon oþer bote,
Þis Eneas his dome to modifie,
He preied hem of her curtesie,
At þe lest for to graunte him grace
Foure monþes, þat he myȝt haue space
To make his stuf & his apparaille,
And hym silf to purueie of vitaille,—
Eke to graunte hym þat þei wold assent
Þilke shippes þat with Paris went
To Cytheroun, vn-to þat temple olde,
Þat wern in noumbre two & twenti tolde.
And with ful graunt of his peticioun,
He is retourned home to Troye toun,
Triste and heuy to sen & beholde
Þe waste cite with his wallis olde,
And for sorwe felt his herte blede,
With-Inne hym silfe whanne he takeþ hede
And remembrid in his aduertence
Þe false tresoun and þe grete offence
By hym compassid to þe toun a-forn,
And how þat he so sodeinly hath lorn
Þe grace of Grekes, & stood discounsolat,
Þat whilom was of so gret estate,
Now in his herte fully dissepeired,
Þat he vnwarly was so euele appaired
Vn-to Grekis behinden at his bak,
Beinge vngilti and with-outen lak;
And be whom he koude nat wel deme,
Saue be signes, as it dide seme,
Þat Anthenor was most for to wyte,
And caste pleinly þat he wolde hym quyte.

Howe Eneas, beyng still in Troy, councelled the Troyans to sende for A[n]thenor, and to make hym their kyng.

And þoruȝ þe toun he made sende blive
For þilke fewe þat were lefte a-lyve,
Comynge anoon at his commaundement;
And whan þei wern euerychon present:
“Sirs,” quod he, “ȝe sen how þat Fortune
Towardis me gynneth discontune,
Ay vnstable with hir eyen blynde,
As ȝe expert in ȝoure silfe now fynde,
Whilom froward, now turned in-to werse,
Þat of clerkis called is aduerse,
Whan hir list hir cruelte to shewe.
Now it stant so: ȝe be her but a fewe,
And I mvt parte, and ȝe stille abide;
But it so be þat ȝe wil prouide,
Stondynge allone deuoide of al socour,
Amonge ȝour silf to make a gouernour,
I can nat se but ȝe shal be acloied
On euery parte, & finally distroied,
A[s] sely shepe, þat ne can no rede,
Al disparpiled, whiche stond in grete drede.
Wherfore, best is, in þis dredful þing,
By oon assent to chese ȝow a kyng;
And most able þestat to occupie,
From al assaut manly ȝow to guye
Is Anthenor, of knyȝthod & renoun,—
Ȝif it accorde with ȝoure oppinioun.
Wherfore in haste, vn-to þis entent,
With-oute abood late hym fore be sent;
And, at his comynge, pleinly, in-to towne,
Vp-on his hed lat be set a crowne,
Grauntynge to hym scepter and regally,
By his wysdam þat he may ȝou guy
From al assaūt of any perturbaunce,
By his knyȝthod and prudent gouernaunce.”
And þei assent, makynge no delay;
Þer was neuer oon þat likeþ to seie nay,
But wer riȝt glad in al manere þinge,
As ȝe han herde, for to make him kyng.
But þei ful litel, sothly, in her sonde,
Of Eneas þe menynge vndirstonde,
For he ne ment but tresoun & falsehede,
How at his ent[e]ringe he shal be dede—
Ful traitourly in a-wait liggynge
To slen hym falsly at his [in-]comynge.
But Anthenor, of al þis no þing war,
Disarmyd cam & no wepne bar;
And Eneas with an huge route
With swerdis drawe set hym rounde aboute,
Til þei of Troie, boþe ȝonge & olde,
Ran a-twen & manly hym with-holde,
And on her knees fil[le] mekely doun,
Besechinge hym to haue compassioun,
Of worþines & also of manhede,
Liche as a knyȝt for to taken hede
How þei were lefte but of peple bare,
Besechinge him his dredful swerd to spare,
And his rancour & his Ire leve,
List þe slauȝter wolde hem alle greve,
And on þe comoun þei besouȝt him rewe.
Quod Eneas, “is he nat vntrewe?
Is he nat double, traitour, & eke fals,
Worþi to bene honged by þe hals,
Of al deceit & of fraude welle,
Amonge no comoun worþi for to dwelle?
Hath he nat be chef occasioun
Of ȝoure vndoynge & destruccioun?
And of newe, þis serpent which her goth,
Vndisservid made þe Grekis wroth
Ageyn[e]s me, by false collusioun,
And myn exile conspired fro þe toun,
Whiche may nat be repellid nor withdrawe!
But with my swerd first he shal be slawe,
Þat his falshede may finally be dauntid,
Riȝt as he haþ me traitourly supplauntid,
Þe Grekis mevyng, fer oute of þis Ile,
By his engyn me, pleinly, to exile,
Where-as I caste, ȝif it myȝt haue be,
Boþe in Ioie and in aduersite
To haue had my part, what[-so] had[de] falle,
Duringe my lyf, her amonge ȝou alle.
But he, þoruȝ whom al is wronge & kourbid,
Of my desire hath þe fyn perturbid,
Whiche in myn herte abideþ alwey grene.
Was he nat cause eke þat Pollicene
I-slawe was at Achilles graue?—
And for al þis, ȝit ȝe wolde hym save!
But outterly þer shal no mene geyne,
Who-so-euere þer ageyn[e]s pleyne,
Þat he, whos hert al tresoun haþ compiled,
Perpetuelly shal now ben exiled
Oute of þis toun—þer shal hit no man lette!”
And by assent þei his tyme sette,
Whiche he shold for no raunsom passe:
Þis was þe fyn, he get noon oþer grace.
Þus boþe fals, as broþer like to broþer,
Eueryche of hem haþ exiled oþer,
Traitours boþe to Troye þe cite,
Þis Anthenor & with hym eke Enee.
But Anthenor gan hym redy make,
And in al haste hath þe see y-take
With many Troian in gret apparaille.
Þe wynde was good, & he gan to saille
By many cost & many sondry yles—
It nedeth nat rehersen alle þe myles,
Nor þe perelles, pleinly, whiche þat he
At gret meschef eskaped in þe se,—
I haue no Ioie þer-vppon to dwelle,
His auentures by & by to telle.
But, shortly, he in a litel while
Arived vp at a noble Ile
Þat whilom was Corbodya y-called,
Where he bilt a cite strongly walled,
As writ Guydo, large, wide, & longe,
Vp-on a roche, which passingly [was] stronge,
Whiche had enviroun, as myn auctour tellis,
Wodis, rivers, and many lusty welles,
And had plente of al maner þing.
And Thetides called was þe kyng
Þat helde in pes his scepter & his crowne,
On whom Fortune list nat for to frowne,
But fauourable fully to his wille,
Conseruynge hym in pes & [in] tranquille,
With-oute trouble many [a] day a-for,—
To whom accepted was þis Anthenor,
And riȝt welcome, as þe story seith,
And vn-to hym confederat by feith,
Fully assured, be-cam his lige man,
Whom Thetides in al þat euere he can,
Þis worþi kyng, dide magnefie.
And from Troye gret noumbre of his allie
Þer cam in soth to visite hym and se,
And tenhabite þis myȝti stronge cite,
Ful coriously bilt of lym and stoon,
In þilke daies called Menelon,—
To whiche he dide gret riches acroche
—Be-side þe se set vp-on a roche—
And besi was with plente it tastore.
Of þis traitour what shuld I write more?
With his name my penne is so accloyed,
By whos falshed Troye was distroied,
As in þe story ȝe haue rad & seyn.
But now most I pleinly resort ageyn,
And to reherse do my besi cure,
How Cassandra told euery auenture
Þat to þe Grekis after shuld[e] falle;
And how þat she told amonge hem alle,
As she þat was prudent & vertuous,
Þat traitourly with-Inne his owne hous
Agamenoun shulde mordrid be:
Þat fatal ende for no þing myȝt he fle.
Lat hym be war, & prudently prouide;
For in þis lyf he shal nat longe abide,
Ageyn his fate was noon oþer red.
Eke Guydo writ, whan Thelamoun was ded
By fals mordre (as ȝe han herd to-forn),
Two sonis he had of sondri wyves born,
Þat wer comitted to be [in] kepynge
With worþi Theutre, a ful manly kyng,
Þat norisshed hem, þe stori seith for soþe,
Til þei after were worþi knyȝtes boþe:
Þe ton of hem called Anthenicus,
And þe toþer hiȝt Antyssacus,
Of shap ful semly & wonder fair of face.
And shortly here Guydo doth forþe pase,
And list of hem no lenger processe make,
But bringeþ in, how Menelay haþ take
His leue of Grekis, with Agamenoun,
Eueryche to saille to his regioun,
With many a Greke in her companye.
And þouȝ Grekis first gan hem denye,
At þe last with instaunce and peyne
Þei had leue to seille boþe tweyne.
And to þe se þei faste gan hem hiȝe,
Mid of autumpne, whiche is cold & drye,
Melencolyk of compleccioun,—
Whan Phebus is passed þe Lyoun,
Þe heuenly beste, þe beste moste royal,
And half y-ronne þe signe virginal,
Whiche after somer is naked & bareyn,
Whan Ceres hath ful riped euery greyne,
Þe tyme of ȝere ful straunge & [ful] diuers,—
And sondri floures, rede, white, & pers,
Þe whiche in May so lusti wern & glade,
Vp-on her stalke gynne droupe & fade,
And enclyne her freshe lusty cheris
At goynge oute of þe caniculeris,—
Whan wykked humours inwardly habounde,
With sodeyn fevere folkis to confounde,
To maken hem in an accesse shake;
And of custom wyndes gynne wake,
Boþe bowe & leef causing for to falle,
On þe tyme whan folk to Bachus calle
From storme & reyn her grapis to conserue,
Þat hidous tempest make hem nat to sterue,
Nor no duresse of fretinge of no frost,
Where-þoruȝ ful ofte moche fruit is lost,
And also eke with þondringe & with levene,
Whiche vnwarly smyte fro þe heuene,—
Þe se ful ofte with swiche wedris kene
Boilyng vp with many wawes grene,
Roringe & rowȝe, & froward to manace,
And passingly perlous by to passe,
Al-be þat it be blandyssinge a while,
Þe dredful calm, þouȝ it be smoþe & smile,
Þer is no trust þat it will long abide.

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,
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,
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.

How Kyng Naulus by treason was caused to sett vpon the Grekes nauye, & draue þem vppon Rokkes.

In Grece whilom was a worþi kyng,
Manly & riche, & prudent of living,
And had, in soth, lik as writ Guydo,
In his tyme worþi sonys two:
Pallamydes was þe eldest broþer,
And Oetes called was þe toþer,
Boþe tweyne of o moder borne.
And as þe stori rehersed hath to-forne,
Pallamydes was a noble knyȝt,
Ful famous eke of power & of myȝt,
And fer spoke of in many sondri cost,
And hadde also of al þe Grekis host
For his wisdam whilom gouernaille;
But he, allas! was slay[e]n in bataille,
Þoruȝ vnhap of Martis cruel tene,
Whanne þe sonne shon most briȝt & shene
Of his knyȝthod & his worþines,
Lik as to-forn þe stori bereth witnes,
And of his deth doth pleinly specefie.
But now, of malys, hatrede, & envie,
Of swiche as haue tonges infortunat,
To make [only] kyng Naulus at debat
With þe Grekes, contrived was of newe
An hiȝe tresoun, fals & ful vntrewe,
Þe whiche, in soth, was neuer don ne wrouȝt,
Nor, in effect, ymagined nor þouȝt,
But a fals þing [y-]feyned of malis:—
Þat þis kyng, so manly & so wys,
And so prudent, þis Pallamydes,
Shuld of envie, God wot, causeles,
At þe sege of Troye þe cite,
Vp-on a nyȝt falsly mordred be,—
So þat þis slauȝter & þis lothsom dede
By Vlixes & by Dyomede
Wer fully wrouȝt, as ȝe han herd deuise,
Whiche euery hert ouȝt[e] to a-grise.
Þis fals also, þat þis tale han feyned,
To kyng Naulus han traitourly compleined
—Al-be in dede it was neuere ment—
Þat Grekis wern also of assent
To þis mordre and conspiracioun,
Boþe Menelay and Agamenoun—
Al-be, in soth, þat euerydel was false!
—Þat hanged be þei hiȝe be þe halse,
Þat can talis so forgen & contrive,
To make frendes causeles to strive!—
For þei þoruȝ fraude of fals collusioun
Kyng Naulus putte in suspecioun,
Þat Grekis had conspired, dout[e]les,
Vp-on þe mordre of Pallamydes,
Making her ground, whiche þei dide feyne,
Þat fro Troye wer sent lettris tweyne
To Pallamydes, in-mediately direct,
Whiche concluded tresoun in effect:
How þat he was, for al his hiȝe estat,
Falsly allied and confederat
To hem of Troye for a somme of gold,
(Al þis þei han feyned and y-told)
And how he had oute of þe cite
Of gold resseyved huge quantite,
To fyn only Grekes to be-traye,
And to prolonge hem, platly, and delay
At þe sege in getynge of þe toun,
By his engyn and mediacioun.
And to conferme al þis in sentence,
To make Naulus ȝeue ful credence,
Þei seide pleinly, in conclusioun,
Þe lettres which wer sent fro þe toun
I-fonde wern enclosed in a sheld
Vp-on a knyȝt y-slawen in þe feld,
Comprehendynge hool þe trecherie,
Þe tresoun ful, and confederacie
Atwene þe toun and Pallamydes,—
Verraily, þouȝ he were gilt[e]les.
And to ȝeuen more open euydence,
To make a pref of þis grete offence,
Þei seide Vlixes—affermynge in certeyn,—
Accorded was with a chaumberleyn
Þat was in offis with Pallamydes,
Wondre secre & no þing rekkeles,
For to assent to þis conspiracie,
Wrongly compassid of brennyng hot envie,
Behotynge hym guerdoun & gret mede,
Like his devis texecute in dede:
To take a tresour & a somme of good,
Ful secrely, & knyt it in an hood,
And hyden it, whan voided was þe pres,
Vnder þe bedde of Pallamydes.
And more to putte Grekis in surete,
Þe tresour was þe same of quantite,
—Þat it ne myȝt after be denyed,—
Liche as þe lettris had[de] specified.
And whan al þis founde was & knowe,
Þoruȝ-oute þe hoste noised & y-blowe,
Boþe of þe lettris & þe gold also,
Fro point to point according boþe two,
Whiche þat þis kyng, assentyng to tresoun,
Receyved hadde oute of Troye toun,
To be assentid (as ȝe han herd me telle),
Þe Grekes þo no lenger wold[e] dwelle,
But shop hem forþe, alle of on entent,
And in al haste cam in-to þe tent
Of þis kyng, ful Innocent & clene,
Þat litel knewe what þei wolde mene,
But vp-on hym, ful knyȝtly as he stood,
In her Ire furious and wood,
To be vengid loude gan to crie—
Þer may no man her malys modefie,
Þei wern on hym so merciles at al.
And, as I fynde, most in special,
Kyng Menelay and Agamenoun,
Only meved of indignacioun,
Wolde haue proceded vn-to Iugement,
Of hasty rancour with-oute auysement
On þis tresoun avenged for to be,
Nat-with-stondynge al his hiȝe degre;
But, in sothnes, whan þis worþi kyng
Conceyued hath þis malis in werkyng,
First astonid in his inward siȝt,
Al sodeynly stirt vp lik a knyȝt,
Þis wyse worþi, þis Pallamydes,
Hardy as lyoun amyd al þe pres,
No þing agast, him knyȝtly gan excuse,
And pleinly seide he wolde nat refuse
Taquite hym silf of þis orrible cas,
Nat excepting þat he so worþi was
Of birþe & blood & of hiȝe kynrede,
Al þis devoidinge, of knyȝthod & manhede,
As he þat gaf of lif nor deth no fors,
To-forn hem alle to iuparte his cors
With-Inne a feld, wher hem list ordeyne,
Lyk as a knyȝt his quarel to darreyne
With who þat list or durst it vndirtake,
Excepcioun hym liked noon to make
Of hiȝe nor lowe, who þat were so bolde
To preue þe tresoun, þat I haue ȝow tolde,
Besechinge hem to make no delay
Nor prolonge hym, but þe same day
Manly requeringe it may be don in hast.
But þei þat had falsly þis þing compast,
Of his answer astonyd wern echon
In al þe host þat þer was nat oon
Þat hardy was, ȝif I shal nat feyne,
In chaumclos þis quarel to darreyne—
Nouþer Vlixes, nouþer Dyomede,
Chef werkers of þis foule dede.
But Vlixes, as he was customable,
In euery þing to be deceyuable,
Double in his werk & ful ay of deceit,
Liche a serpent þat lyth in a-wait,
Whiche vnder floures can so glide & trace,—
Riȝt so Vlixes, with a feyned face,
Whan þat he sawe þe knyȝtly hiȝe prowesse,
Þe manly cher, and þe hardynesse
And hiȝe renoun of þis Pallamydes,
Anoon of falshede put hym silf in pres,
And liche a frende þat ment[e] nat but wel,
Brotel as glas, pretendinge outward stel,
With oon þe first gan [him] to excuse,
Hem conseillinge no lenger for to muse
On þis mater, for her alder ese,
And by craft gan hem so appese,
Touching þe rumour of þis hiȝe tresoun,
Þat he hath voided al suspecioun
Oute of her hertis,—concludynge, in certeyn,
Þis accusynge made was in veyn,
And conspired only of hatrede—
Al-be hym silf was rote of al þis dede.
But whanne he saw he myȝt[e] nat acheve,
As ȝe han herd, þis worþi kyng to greue,
Som spot of tresoun on hym for to leye,
He hath anon founde anoþer weye
By thassent fully of Diomede:
Vnder pretence, pleinly, of frendlyhede
Comynge to hym ageyn a certeyn nyȝt,
Vnder surance, as he was trewe knyȝt,
Counseil to kepe, ouþer for sote or sour,
Enformyng hym of a grete tresour
Of gold & good and infinit richesse
To hem discured vnder secrenesse,
Þe whiche, sothly, no man dide knowe,
Hid & enclosid in a welle lowe
With-Inne a feld a litel þer be-side,
Þe whiche hem list fro hym nat to hyde,
But of trust vn-to hym discure,
So he wolde done his besy cure
Þe same nyȝt with hem for to go
Vn-to þe welle—þei þre & no mo—
To fet a-way þat grete some of good.
And he, in soth, þat no þing vndirstood
What þei ment, assentid was anoon;
And so þei þre be to-gidre goon
Vn-to þe welle, lik as I haue told,
And for þat he most manly was & bold,
Pallamydes, liche as þei hym telle,
Descended is lowe in-to þe welle,
Supposinge to haue a tresour founde.
But þei, allas! hym falsly to confounde,
Han mordrid hym with stonys gret & huge,
He in þe botme havynge no refuge;
And whan þei had acomplished þer entent,
Þei be repeired eueryche to his tent.
Þis þe tale, þe stori telleth vs,
Þat feyned was to þe kyng Naulus,
Tochinge þe deth of Pallamydes,
Hem to disclaundre þat were gilt[e]les!
For Vlixes, & with hym Diomede
Were Innocent, platly, as I rede,
And Grekis alle, boþe nyȝe & ferre:
For he was slayn knyȝtly in þe werre,
Duringe þe sege, of Paris with an arwe.
But who is fals, feyne can ful narwe
To fynde a tale þat neuere ȝit was þouȝt!
And of þe tresoun þat shuld haue be wrouȝt
Touchynge þe lettris sent oute of þe toun,
Þer was no swiche conspiracioun
By Grekis wrouȝt, but a fable vnsoth,
Falsly feyned to make Naulus wroth
With Vlixes and Diomede also,
Agamenoun, and oþer Grekis mo,
To letten hem homward in her weye,
And hyndre also—þer is no more to seie—
As þei repeire to her regiouns.
And Naulus þanne by þis occasiouns,
And Oetes his sone, a manly man,
Accorded ben, in what þei may or can,
Be oon assent tavenge merciles
Þe cruel mordre of Pallamydes,
And to ordeyne at her hom passage
To werke fully in-to her damage,
For Grekes moste of necessite
Homward saille for-by his contre.
Wherfore þis kyng shapen hath a wyle:
On hilles hiȝe, by a lytel yle,
In wynter sesoun euery maner nyȝt
To make fires and to sette vp lyȝt,
To causen hem on þe se to erre.
For, as Grekis sawe þe fire a-ferre,
Vnwar of harme, cast hem for to londe,
As þei þat coude no pereil vndirstonde,
But shopen hem with al her ful[le] myȝt
For to arive fast[e] by þe liȝt,
Wher-with two hundrid of her shippes brak
Amonge rokkes, and fully go to wrak,
Þat þer was drowned many worþi man.
And þus þe vengaunce alderfirst be-gan
Þat kyng Naulus hath on Grekis take
Of dedly hate for his sonis sake,
To gret mischef and confusioun
Of Grekis navie; but Agamenoun
With gret pereil is þe deth eskaped,
Þat had almost among hem be beiapid:
For erlys, dukis, & worþi kynges crowned,
Þoruȝ þis treyne in þe se wer drowned.
But Menelay and also Diomede
Eskapeden þis meschef, as I rede.
And when þei wern from al daunger goon,
Þis Oetes, wood for Ire, anoon
In his herte shope anoþer wyle,
And þouȝt he wold Agamenoun be-gyle,
Compassinge a ful mortal strif,
Leet send a lettre anon to þe wyf
Of þis myȝti grete Agamenoun,
In whiche þer was included fals tresoun;
For evene lik, ȝif I shal nat lye,
Þus in effect þei dide specefie:
First, how hir lord Agamenoun þe kyng
Hadde at þe sege wrouȝt a wonder þing
In preiudyse and sclaunder of hir name,
Al-be in hir was no maner blame,
(Liche as he wrot) platly, nor trespace
His kyngly honour of foly to difface;—
Þis to seyn, Guydo telleth þus,
He loued a douȝter of kyng Priamus,
And for bewte had hir to wyve take,
And hir in herte finally for-sake,
Þis worþi quene, whilom of so gret fame;—
And Clemestra sothly was hir name,
Wonder semly and riȝt fair with-al,
And be descent borne of þe stook royal,—
Hir tellynge eke, for al hir excellence,
Al-be þat she neuere dide offence,—
Ȝet hir lord of newfangilnesse
Toke anoþer, þe lettres dide expresse,
Fully in purpos anoon at his repeire,
Þouȝ Clemestra wer boþe good & fayre,
Al sodeynly hir[e] to exile
Oute of his lond many þousand myle,
Warnyng hir þat she be prudent.
Þis was þe substaunce, as in sentament,
Þat Oetes wrote vn-to þis quene,
Al-be þe kyng was Innocent & clene,
And was to hir in al his forn lyvynge
Lovynge and trewe in al maner þing,
And hir to plese passinge ententif
In word and dede duryng al his lyf,
As fer as ouȝt of resoun be desyred.
But þe letteris, þat falsly were conspired,
Þei han hir put, par cas of Innocence,
For to ȝeven to hastily credence,
Þankynge first Oetes for his trouþe,
Þat so goodly hym list to haue rouþe
Vp-on hir wronge of hiȝe compassioun.
(And ȝet þe story makeþ mencioun
Here-afterward, as I shal descrive,
Þat she was þe falsest oon alyve
Vn-to hir lord in his longe absence.)
And in al hast she made strong diffence
Ageyn þis kyng, & gan hir to purueie
Be swiche fraude þat she shal nat deie;
But of hir werk, in soth, she was to wyte,
Þe whiche, allas! I must anoon endite,
As þe story, platly, doth me lere,
Whiche doolful is & mortal for to here!

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.

How quene Egra, the wyff of Dyomede, exilede hym when he wolde have reparyde to his owne kyngdam fro Troye, by the fals ymaginacyoun of Oetes, Palamydes brothere.

In Grece was a kyngdam wyde & large,
Coniunct in oon, Calydonye & Arge,
Ful abundaunt of riches and of rent,
Of whiche þe kyng called was Pollent,
A worþi man & of a noble fame,
And had a son—Assandrus was his name—
And a douȝter passing fair of siȝte,
And, sothly, Egra I fynde þat she hiȝte.
And for hir fader, lik as writ Guydo,
Had no mo but þese children two,
For hem he haþ of wisdam so prouyded,
Þis myȝti regne for to be deuided
Atwene hem two after his disses,
Eche with his part for to liven in pes,
Texcluden hem fro indigence or nede.
And she was wyf vn-to Diomede,—
Al-be to-forn þe story of hym saide
Þat he whilom loued wel Cressaide—
I can nat seine wher it was doubilnesse,
But wel wot I, Guydo bereth witnesse
And in his book, sothly, seith non oþer,—
And how Assandrus, his owne wyves broþer,
Ful lusti, fresshe, & ful of manlihede
To Troie went wiþ þis Diomede;
But in þe se for-driven vp-so-doun,
Þei ryved vp in þe regioun
Called Boece, al discounsolat,
With tempest drive, wery & ful maat,
Hem to refresshe & for non oþer þing;
In whiche lond Thelephus was kyng.
Of whos rivaille whan he herd[e] seyn,
In his herte he hadde hiȝe disdeyn
Þat þei wer bold to don so gret offence,
Tentre his grounde havinge no licence;
And ȝit, in soth, þei dide no damage
To hiȝe nor lowe of no maner age,
Nor toke nat þat myȝt disavaille
Vn-to þat lond, but it were vitaille,
For whiche þei paied iustly at þe fyn,
For flesshe & fysshe & for bred & wyn.
Ȝit for al þat, of indignacioun
Kyng Thelephus is descended doun
With gret array, to harme hem ȝif he myȝt;
And so þei gan to bikeren & to fiȝt.
And Assandrus, ful of hiȝe prowesse,
Liche a lioun his fomen gan oppresse,
And wonder knyȝtly þe feld vp-on hem wan,
And slow þat day many worþi man,
Of hiȝe corage and of manly pride.
And whan þe kyng, whiche þat stod a-side,
Sawe his men slawe on euery part,
Of hiȝe disdeyn hent anon a dart
And cast at hym, allas, þe mortal fate!
And percid hath þoruȝ mailles & plate
Of Assandrus, þat he fil doun ded,
Þe soil aboute of his blood al red,
His dedly wounde so be-gan to blede.
And wod as tigre þo cam Diomede,
And hym to avenge bar hym lik a knyȝt,
Sleþ and kylleþ, & putte hem to þe fliȝt,
And after þat swiche sorwe gan to make
Of knyȝtly rouþe for his broþer sake,
Þat he ne wist what was best to do.
But, as I fynde, myd of al his wo,
Fro best & foule þe dede cors to save,
Liche his estat he lete make a graue
And buried hym after rytes olde.
But Oetes to his sister tolde
Þat he was slayn by fraude of Diomede,
To fyn þat he myȝt[e] [ful] possede
Þe regne of Arge hool, with-oute strif,
With þe purpa[r]ti annexid to his wif;
For by his deth he myȝt[e] sesoun take:
And told [hir] eke þat she was for-sake,
Þis faire Egra, for al hir wommanhede,
Of hir lord called Diomede.
All þis he told (in helle be he cheyned!).
And, ouermore, he forged haþ & feyned
How of envie Assandrus lost his lyf;
And how hir lord haþ take a-noþer wif,
Þat was to hir dishonour & shame,
And passingly gret sclaunder to hir name
In preiudise doon to hir estat.
Al þis he tolde to make hem at debate,
Liche as he wrot, in conclusioun,
To Clemestra of Agamenoun,
Whiche hir herte made sore greve:
For he putte hir fully in byleve
Of al þe tresoun, ȝe haue herde me told,
Þat for Ire she wexe pale and cold,
Vnkyndenesse so hir herte sleth,
And hevinesse of hir broþer deth.
For neuer ȝit, Guydo doth assure,
No womman louede bet a creature
Þan she louede hym, in no manere age:
[For] First at nouȝt she sette hir heritage
In comparisoun of hir broþer lyf—
Lo, how Oetes made a newe strif,
As ȝe han herde in þe story rede!—
Þat gilt[e]les worþi Diomede,
Whan he haþ long at þe sege leyn,
And to his kyngdam wolde han comme ageyn,
By myȝti hond of þis worþi quene,
And hir liges þat assented bene,
He was exiled oute of þat regioun,—
Þer may be made no mediacioun.
Þus, in hym silfe maat & dis[es]peired,
Discounsolat he is ageyn repeired
To Salerne, a lond of gret richesse,
Wher þat Teuter þoruȝ his worþinesse
With crowne and scepter had[de] regned longe
With his liges and his knyȝtes stronge,
And broþer was to Aiax Thelamoun,
Mordred to-forn, as made is mencioun.
And Diomede, pore and destitut,
May in Salerne fynde no refut:
For whan Teuter first gan hym espie,
He suede after by ful gret envie,
Havynge to hym ay suspecioun
Touching þe deth of kyng Thelamoun.
But Diomede on a certeyn nyȝt
Ful secrely hath taken hym to fliȝt,
And fro Salerne fast[e] gan hym hiȝe
In hope to fynde better remedie,
Helpe or socour in som oþer place,
Ȝif fortune wolde graunt hym grace.
For of hym silf ashamed & confus,
As man forsake, abiect, and refus,
Riȝt so ferde he, wandring to & fro,
As he þat nist what was best to do.
But, I fynde, þe Troyan Eneas,
Þat al þis while stille at Troye was,
Only of rouþe and compassioun
To supporte hem þat wer left of þe toun,
Beynge alweye of her lyf in doute,
Of her fomen rounde be-set aboute,
As þei þat lyvede for lak of an hed
Continuelly in meschef and in dred,
Knowynge no refut nor counfort in þis cas,—
Til by counseil of þis Eneas,
To support hem in þis gret[e] nede
Þei sent in haste for þis Diomede,
Knowynge ful wel his desolacioun,
How he was proscript fro his regioun—
Besechinge hym, of manhod & of rouþe,
Hym to enhaste, with-outen any slouþe,
With al þe stuf þat he gete can,
And sowden vp euery manly man
With-oute abood & to Troie hem lede,
To socour hem in þis grete nede.
And Diomede cam, & tarieth nouȝt,
At her request, as he was be-souȝt,
To releue hem in þis sharp[e] shour,
And with hym brouȝt many soudiour.
And Eneas on þe weie hym mette
In frendely wyse, & in-to toun hym fette,
And to hym made passingly gret chere.
And þer þei gan to comwne y-fere
Her auentures boþe on lond and se,
Entermedlyd wiþ gret aduersite,
Þat no man may deuoide nor eschewe,
But take his part, as it to hym is dwe,
As sort or hap doth his bridel lede.
And in þis story shortly to procede,
Cely Troiens, þat almost were shent
With her fomen of Iles adiacent
Þat hem be-set abouten enviroun,—
[But] Þoruȝ þe manhod and þe hiȝe renoun
Of Diomede and his sowdiours
And oþer knyȝtes, noble werriours,
Þei wer reskued & holpen outterly;
And foure daies þei fauȝt by and by,
In knyȝtly wyse deffendinge þe cite;
And þoruȝ þe prowesse also of Enee
Þei slen and take al þat hem with-stood,
And in diffense of Troianyshe blood,
Swiche as þei founde to þe cite fals,
Þei henge hem vp hiȝe by þe hals,
And punyshe[d] hem for her gret[e] wrong.
And Diomede þus gan wexe stronge
By longe processe, as made is mencioun,
Chef protector now of Troie toun,
Þat enmy noon by a large space
Durst abide, but he hadde grace,
To his ligaunce so he made hem loute.
And þus his name sprede gan aboute,
Þat of his fame þe gret oppinioun
Dilated is vn-to þe Regioun,
By swift report, of Calydonye & Arge,
Whiche þe quene gretly gan to charge;
And astonyd, whan she takeþ hede,
His power gan & his myȝt to drede,
List he wolde hir lond vp-on hir wynne,
And of knyȝthod a werre newe be-gynne.
And secrely gan mvsen on þis þing,
Þat hir lord & hir myȝti kyng,
Late exiled & [y-]putte to fliȝt,
Hath grace founde in Fortunys siȝt,
And is remounted to so hiȝe estat.
Wherof she was in hir self chek-maat,
And weyes cast, as she þat was prudent,
By hool avis of hir parlement,
With-oute grucchinge or rebellioun,
Hym to reuoke to his Regioun;
And þer-vppon to hym louly sent.
And with lettres þe messager forþe went,
Þe cause anullynge for whiche he was exiled,
And how he was fully reconsiled
By hool assent of his liges alle,
And ful louly, euerychon, þei calle,
For her offence & [for] her trespace,
With-oute rigour for to don hem grace.
And he anoon, liche a manly knyȝt,
Mor of mercy, sothly, þanne of riȝt,
Whan he hath her sond[e] wel conceived
And her menynge fully apparceived,
To stint al strif þouȝt[e] for þe beste
In goodly wyse to graunte her requeste;
And to his regne with-Inne a certeyn day
He is repeired in ful riche array.
Of whos commyng ful glad his liges ben;
And recouncyled boþe he & quene,
And al rancour of any old offence
Only of wysdam þei put in suspence;
And of oon hert a blisful lyf þei lede—
In Troie boke no more of him I rede,
But late him lyve in felicite!
Ageyn resortynge to tellen of Enee,
After how he hath his tyme spent,
Whiche is fro Troie with many Troyan went.
His shippes stuffed, he & his meyne
Be seiled forþe by many straunge se,
Many daunger & many streit passage,
To-forn or he arived in Cartage,
Ledyng wiþ hym his fader Anchises,—
Þat, be þe waye, I fynde þat he les
His wyf Crewsa by fatal auenture;—
But al þe wo þat he dide endure,
Who-so list ceriously to sene,—
And how þat he falsede þe quene,
I mene Dido, of wommanhede flour,
Þat gaf to hym [hir] richesse & tresour,
Iowelys & gold, & al þat myȝt hym plese,
And euery þing þat myȝt[e] do hym ese,
But for al þat, how he was vnkynde,—
Rede Eneydos, & þer ȝe shal it fynde:—
And how þat he falsly stale away
By nyȝter tyme while she a-bedde lay,
And of his conquest also in Yta[i]lle,
Where he had many stronge bataille,
His auentures and his werkes alle,
And of þe fyn þat is to hym falle,—
Ȝe may al seen, by ful souereyn style
From point to point compiled in Virgile,
Written & made siþen go ful ȝore;
For Troie boke spekeþ of hym no more,
But procedeth, as I shal endite,
How Horrestes cast hym for to quyte
His fadres deth, pleinly, & nat spare,
Ȝif ȝe list here as Guydo shal declare.

Howe Horrestes was commawnded by the goddis, that he shulde repayre to his kyngdam, and Cruelly, without pite, scle his moder Clemestra, for the mordere of his Fader, Agamenoun.

It is requerid of equite & riȝt,
Of þilke Iuge þat is most of myȝt
And egally holdeth his balaunce,
On deth conspired for to do vengaunce:
Þe vois of blood doth so ay contune
To crye wreche with clamoure importune
On hem, in soth, þat it iniustly shede;
For mordre wrouȝt wil han his egal mede
And his guerdoun, as he hath disservid.
Þei may nat fle þe Iugement reservid
Of hym þat sitte hiȝest in his throne,
And al beholdeth by hym silf allone,
Ful riȝtfully, þe noble myȝti Kyng;
For þouȝ he suffre, he forȝet no þing,
But al considereth in his inspeccioun.
And for þe mordre of Agamenoun,
Þe myȝti Lord, whiche is most souereyn God,
Made his mynystre of þe same blood,
Ȝonge Horrestes, ful of hiȝe prowesse,
Texecute his dome of riȝtwisnesse,
And gaf to hym power, grace, & myȝt.
And he anoon toke þe ordre of knyȝt
Of Ydumeus, liche as it is tolde,
Whan he was foure & twenti wynter olde,
Fresshe and lusty, & wonderly prudent,
And inwardly desirous of entent,
Ȝif fortune wolde hym nat wyth-seyn,
His heritage to recure ageyn
Whiche Egistus falsly hym denyeth,
And þe crowne iniustly occupieth
By fals title of hir þat was his wyf.
But Horrestes wil iupart his lif,
And aventure, while him lasteth breth:
First to be venged on his fadris deth
Vp-on hem þo þat þe tresoun wrouȝt.
And alderfirst ful louly he be-souȝt
Kyng Ydumee of his goodlyhede
To forþeren hym in þis gret[e] nede;
And þe kyng benignely anoon
Assigned hath with hym for to goon
A þousand knyȝtes, manly & riȝt stronge,
To redresse þe grete horrible wronge
Of Egistus wrouȝt by violence.
And by his wysdam & his dilligence,
Þis Horrestes gan hym so purueie,
With-Inne a while, þer is no more to seie,
Þat he hym gat (þe story wil nat lye)
A-noþer þousand in his companye
Of worþi knyȝtes, alle of oon accorde
To go with hym, as with her souereyn lord,
In euery þing his biddyng to obeie,
As ȝe han herde, Egistus to werreye.
And þus Horrestes, in ful riche array,
Gan hosteye & made no delay,
And his loggynge aldirfirst gan chese
In a cite þat called was Troeȝe,
Received þere with grete reuerence
Of þe kyng, þat named was Forence,
A manly knyȝt, as bokes specefie,
And bare in herte passing gret envie
To Egistus, by double occasioun:
First, for þe deth of Agamenoun,
And eke for he hadde a douȝter dere
Þat was to hym inwardly entere,
Boþe good & fair, & but ȝonge of age,
Þat whilom was ȝoven in mariage
To Egistus; but he of doubilnesse,
Of fals tresoun & newfongilnesse
Þe kynges douȝter haþ outterly for-sake,
And in al haste dide a lybel make,
And forge a writ of repulsioun,
Al-be he hadde no trewe occasioun,
Þis Egistus, þat he hir for-soke,
Saue þat he falsly to wyve toke
Þe quene Clemestra, a-geyn al [riȝt and] lawe,
Whanne by assent þei mordred han & slawe
Agamenoun, as it to-forn is tolde,
Þat whilom was so myȝti & so boold.
And for þe hatful fals conspiracie,
As wel of mordre as [of] avoutrie,
To venge boþe by due recompense,
Þe worþi knyȝt, þe myȝti kyng Forrense
Offred Horestes for to make hym stronge
And go with hym to helpe venge his wrong,
And with hym ladde, armed briȝt in steel,
Foure hundrid knyȝtes, horsed wonder wel,
Takynge þe feld with a manly chere.
And so Horestes and þe kyng y-fere
Be riden forþe with many manly man.
But Horestes, or [he] þis werre gan,
Whan briȝt[e] Phebus in þe Bole shoon,
To þe temple is ful lowly goon,
And to þe goddis in his best[e] wyse
With humble herte dide sacrifise,
Fully in hope þe better for to fare:
Wher he was bode, for lif nor deth to spare,
With-oute merci or remissioun,
Þe deth to venge of Agamenoun
On Clemestra, þat was most to wyte,
And þat he make first his swerd to bite
On his moder, with his hondis tweyne,
And ouermore to done his besy peyne,
With-oute pite, & no merci shewe,
On smale pecis til she be to-hewe
And dismembrid assondre Ioint fro Ioint,
And eke þat he forȝete nauȝt a point,
Iustly to punyshe by rigour & by riȝt
Egistus eke, þe fals vntrewe knyȝt,
And þat he be nat slowe nor necligent
To execute þe commaundement
Of þe goddes, list what after falle.
And þanne Horestes with his knyȝtes alle,
And Forense þe myȝti kyng also,
Of oon herte be to þe sege go
Of þe cite þat called was Methene,
With-Inne whiche was þe fals[e] quene
Clemestra,—God ȝif hir harde grace!
And whanne Horestes seged haþ þe place,
With his knyȝtes set it rounde aboute,
False Egistus was y-riden oute
To gadre men and to ben awreke,
And falle vppon & þe sege breke
Ȝif he myȝt, on eny maner side;
And with gret stuf þus he gan to ride,
Takyng vp men fro euery cost,
Til he hym made a ful myȝti host.
But Horestes, whiche at þe sege lay,
His gouernaunce espieth day be day,
And sent oute men, as he þat was ful sage,
To stoppe weies & lettyn his passage,
And made knyȝtes, a ful huge route,
To pursewe hym euery cost aboute.
And of þe sege, manfully be-gonne,
By assaute he hath þe toun y-wonne,
And entrid in on a nyȝt ful late,
And set[te] wardis stronge at euery gate.
And in [a] dongoun, moste stronge & principal,
Þat was of bildynge myȝti and royal,
Þis Horestes first his moder fond,
Þe quene Clemestra, lady of þat lond,
Whiche for drede sore gan to quake;
But merciles anoon he made hir take
And putte in cheynes til þe next[e] morwe.
And Egistus,—God ȝif hym euele sorwe!—
With al þe stuf þat he myȝt acroche,
Toward þe toun fast[e] gan a-proche
In purpos ful Horestes for to greve,
And hem with-Inne sodeynly releve.
But al, in soth, myȝt[e] nat availle;
For or þat he þe cite myȝt availle,
Horestes knyȝtes vnwarly han hym met,
And alle attonis proudly on hym set:
First slayn his men & putte hem to þe fliȝt,
And taken hym, maugre al his myȝt,
And with cheynes, lik as þei hym finde,
Merciles ful fast[e] þei hym binde,
And shet hym vp, fetrid in prisoun.
And alle fals founden in þe toun,
Þat wer assentid, willy, or helpynge
To þe mordre of þe worþi kyng,
Grete werkers and conspiratours,
Ageyn her lord rysing as traitours,—
Alle were take and bounde be rigour
Þe same nyȝt, & shet vp in a tour,
Til on þe morwe, lik as þe lot be drawe,
Eueryche of hem vndirfonge his lawe
Liche his decert,—excepcioun was noon.
And whanne þe nyȝt passed was & goon,
And Phebus ros estwarde in his spere
And on þe toures shon ful briȝt & clere,
Whanne Clemestra, rote of al falshede,
Was brouȝt forþe, quakyng in her drede,
Beforn Horestes to Iugement I-fet,
He, with a swerde, sharpe and kene whet,
Liche as þe goddes chargid hym to-forn,
On pecis smale he hath hir al to-shorn,
And made hir bern oute of þe tovnis boundis
To be vowrid of bestis & of houndis:—
Pite was noon in his brest reseruyd,
But quitte hir fully as she haþ disservid
Fro point to point, & forgat riȝt nouȝt.
And þanne cheyned Egistus was forþe brouȝt,
And iustly dempt by rigour of þe lawe
On an hirdel naked to be drawe
Þoruȝ-oute þe toun, þat alle myȝt[e] se,
And after hiȝe [en]hangid on a tre,
For to rote & drye ageyn þe sonne.
Lo, how mordre haþ his guerdoun wonne!
Lo, how falshede his maister can awake!
And alle þe traitours in þe toun y-take
Wern on galwes enhonged euerychon,
Til þei were seuered asonder bon fro bon,
Hiȝe on an hil ageyn þe sterres shene.
Þus was þe toun fro tresoun purged clene,
And with trouþe awmentid & y-morid;
And to his regne Horestes ful restorid,
As þe story suynge shal expowne,
And of þe day whan he toke his crowne.

Howe kynge Menelay, brother to Agamenon, set a parlement at Athenes, wher he entendyde to haue deprivede Horrestes of his kyngdam, for þe dethe of his moder; bot Horrestes was crownyde.

And whan þe myst & euery cloudy skye
Of fals tresoun and conspiracie
Were tried oute, vp-on euery side,
Þat falshed had no place to abide,
Þe story seith, in ordre rehersynge,
Þe same tyme Menelay þe kyng,
Oute of þe se ful of wawys wete,
Fro Troie-ward arived was in Crete,
Frely eskapid many drede and peyne,
With his quene, þe goodly freshe Eleyne.
And for cause she was so famous fair,
Gret was þe pres & merveilous repaire
Fro euery part hir bewte to beholde,
For whom Troie, with wallis not ful olde,
Destroied was, þe noble royal toun;
And many man, ful worþi of renoun,
Haþ lost his lyf—þer may no man seie nay—
Al for Eleyne, wyf to Menelay:
Whan þing is doon, it may be noon oþer.
But whan þis kyng knewe fully of his broþer
Agamenoun mordre and euerydel,
He was ful trist, & liked no þing wel,
But inwardly felt[e] ful grete smerte;
And his nevew he hadde also at herte—
I mene Horestes—þat so merciles,
Liche a tyraunte þat were graceles,
His moder slowe, and had[de] no pite,
Of mortal Ire in his cruelte,—
And fully cast þat he wolde blive
Of scepter & crowne, platly, hym deprive,
Fully affermynge, for þis hatful cas
By al lawe þat he vnworþi was
His fadris regne as eyr to possede,
Iustly considrid his horrible dede.
And al attonis, furious and wroth,
With-oute abood vn-to ship he goth,
Malencolyk in his grete tene,
Oute of Crete seiling to Athene,
And toke þe lond oute of shipes bord
Where duke Nestor was gouernour & lord,
Whiche hym receiveth, like a gentil knyȝt,
With al his power, dilligence, and myȝt.
But Menelay, of rancour and gret hete
Gan with þe duke secrely to trete
To fynde a mene in his inwarde siȝt
For to deprive Horestes of his riȝt.
And þer-vp-on to haue a iugement,
At Athenes was holde a parlement
Of þe lordis of þat regioun,
To ȝeve þer-on a diffinicioun,
In whiche was shewed, openly y-nowe,
How Horestes his owne modir slowe,
And þe maner of his grete offence,
Hym silf[e] þo beyng in presence.
And whan þis þing he fully dide espie,
For his party he gan ageyn replie,
As he þat felte hym frely at his large,
For hym alleggynge þat he had in charge
Of þe goddis, shortly to declare,
His mortal swerde þat he nat ne spare
Vp-on Clemestra, rote of false tresoun,
Þat slowe hir lord, kyng Agamenoun,
And þe mordre þoruȝ hir malis wrouȝt.
Wherfore Horestes humblely besouȝt
Þe lordes alle, with a manly herte,
Of equite considren and aduerte,
For no malis, rancour, nor for rage
Hym to deprive of his heritage,
Siþen he was sone of Agamenoun,
Borne to ben eyr of þe Regioun,
As ȝe han herd, þat called was Methene,
Al-be his moder, Clemestra þe quene,
Compassid had his destructioun.
But duke Nestor, ymeved of resoun,
In sustenyng of Horestes riȝt,
Roos vp anoon lyk a manly knyȝt,
Offringe him silf proudly for his sake
Þis hiȝe quarel for to vndirtake,
With his body to þe deth darreyne
Wiþ whom þat list his title to with-seyne.
But þer was noon in al þat companye
Þat durste a word a-geyn[e]s him replye,
So hool he stood in his oppinioun.
And by his knyȝtly mediacioun
He bar hym so, feynyng in no þing,
Þat Horestes was [y-]crowned kyng
Of Methene, alle beyng of assent.
And whan dissoluyd was þe parlement,
Þis Horestes of his liges trewe
Resseyved was with a crowne newe,
And by trete of lordis many oon
Kyng Menelay & he wer made at oon,
And gan her Ire & her rancour lete.
And Ydumee, þe myȝty kyng of Crete,
So prudently gouerneth þis matere,
Þat Hermyone, þe ȝong[e] douȝter dere
Of Menelay and þe quene Eleyne,
So ȝong, so freshe, of bewte souereyn,
I-wedded was with-oute more tariyng
To Horestes, þe newe lusty kyng.
And by cause of þis allyaunce
Devoided was al rancour and distaunce
Atwene þe kynges, Menelay þe olde
And Horestes, of whom riȝt now I tolde.
Þus leue I hem, as it was þe beste,
Eche in his regne lyve in pes & reste;
For al strif was cessid in þis cas.
But Erygona, þat þe douȝter was
Of Egistus, as ȝe han herd me telle,
For sorwe & drede list no lenger dwelle,
But toke a rope, & liste no þing to spare,
And þer-with-al gan hir silf to gnare,
Þe story seith, hiȝe vp-on a tre:
Þis was hir fyn,—ȝe gete no more of me—
But I wil forþe ceriously entrete
Of þe story to tellen ȝow þe grete.

The wonderfule eskaipis of Vlixes aftire þat he departede fro Troy; and howe he made a soroweful compleynte against fortune to the worshipful kynge, called Ydumye.

O Vlixes, by ordre in my writyng,
Þin aventures commen on þe ring,
Ful wonderful boþe on lond and se,
Entermedlid with grete aduersite!
For Guydo, first discrivinge þi repeire,
Seith how þou founde weder foule & faire,
Now agreable, now þe thounder sowne,
Now stille and smothe, now with clowdis frowne,
And seith also, þat þou dedist ordeyne
To þi passage myȝty shippes tweyne,
Apparailled al for marchaundise,
Þat þou myȝtest in most secre wyse
Euery meschef of þe se eskape.
But for al þat þou haddist a fel iape:
For as þis auctor þi resort doþ wryte,
He seith Vlixes, for al his wordis white,
I-robbed was of riches and of good,
Contrarious wynde so a-geyn him stood
Þat he was drive, to his confusioun,
In-to þe myȝty stronge regioun
Where Thelamoun regned by his lyve;
And þere he was hent & take blyve,
Be myȝti hond sesid by þe brest,
And merciles put vnder arest;
For þei him had suspect in werkyng,
Touching þe mordre of þe same kyng.
But he so wrouȝt by his sleiȝti wyle,
And his tale sette in swiche a stile,
Þat hem alle he [pleinly] hath be-iaped,
And fro her hond frely is eskaped—
Except þat he, for al his queynt[e] fare,
Of his tresour was [y-]made ful bare;
And for his passage was to him vnkouþe,
He fil a-geyn in-to þe wolves mouþe:
For, verraily, as it is specified,
Kyng Naulus men han hym eft espied,
Take & bounde & cheyned mercyles,
For þe mordre of kyng Pallamydes.
But þe story reherseth in certeyn,
By his prudence he eskaped is a-geyn,
—For he was boþe expert, wys, & olde—
Al-þei þe maner be not fully tolde
Of his eskape, þoruȝ his besy peyne,
Out of daunger of þese kynges tweyne—
Til þoruȝ fortune he cam fro meschef fre
To þe presence of kyng Ydumee
In symple array and torne apparaile.
Wher-of þe kyng gretly gan mervaile
To sen his pouert in so lowe maner;
But for al þat he maked him good cher,—
Þouȝ þilke tyme he were Infortunat,
He hym resseiveth liche to his estat.
And whan þei wern boþe tweyne allone,
In compleynyng Vlixes made his mone
Vn-to þe kyng, as he þat was ful sage,
Ceriously þe sort of his passage,
With face sad and a sobre chere,
Fro point to point, anon as ȝe shal here.
“My lord,” quod he, “shortly to expresse,
Of trust I haue in ȝoure gentilnes,
I shal to ȝow myn aventures alle
Rehersyn her, riȝt as it is falle:
First, whan þat I Troye lond forsook
And þe water with my shippes took,
I was a-noon with wynde pesible blowe
To an yle whiche was to me vnknowe,
Callid Mirma, of gret haboundance;
And al[le] þing þat was to my plesaunce,
Þat may for siluer or for gold be bouȝt,
I redy fonde, & wantid riȝt nouȝt,
And þer abood ful long[e] while in Ioie
With þe tresour þat I gat at Troye,—
My shippes stuffed, my men hool & sounde,
And for commodite of þat ilk[e] grounde,
We lyked so þe contre enviroun,
Þat, for disport and recreacioun,
Oure tariyng þer we þouȝt not longe,
For no man dide vn-to vs no wronge.
Til on a day þat þe eyr was stille,
Þe wynde also fully at oure wille,
We seyled forþe in quiete and in pes
Vn-to a port called Clanstafages,
Wher with my meyne long & many day
I fond al þing according to my pay,
—Þe wedir lusty, agreable, and feir—
But who may trust ouþer in wynde or eyr!—
For vp-on feith of þe smoþe skye
Ageyn to ship fast I gan me hye,
Taried nouȝt, but tok anoon þe see,
Smoþe & calm enduring daies þre,
Þat in þe wedir founde was no lak.
But sodeynly þe heuene turned blak,
Þe hydous tempest & þe wawes grene
Oute of hope han me dispeired clene,
Troublid my spirit & made me [so] pensif,
With-oute refut teskape with þe lyf,
Possid & drive by many sondri yle,
Til at þe last, cast vp at Cecyle,
Recuryng lond with gret annoy & peyne,
Wher þilke tyme regned kynges tweyne.
And as I can remembre douteles,
Þe ton of hem called Sorigenes,
Whiche vn-to me ful contrarious was,
And þe toþer named Coclopas,—
Breþren of birþe, and, in conclusioun,
I-lyche cruel of condicioun:
For þouȝ my sort had shape for þe nonys,
Boþe tweyne fil on me attonys,
Oppressing me in ful gret distresse,
Spoiled my shipes of tresour & richesse,
And for no pite liked not to spare,
Til I was left destitut and bare
Of al my good, allas, my mortal chaunce!
And most of al was to me grevaunce,
Whan of my gold þei myȝt no more restreyne,
Þei sent doun her myȝti sonys tweyne:
Alipham, þat was ful large & long,
And Polipheme þe myȝti geaunt strong,
Whiche on my men tavenge hem wer so fayn,
Þat þei of hem han an hundred slayn,
Disaraied to stonden at diffence.
And of malys, with sodeyn violence
Þei token me, for meschef almost lorn,
And Alphenor, myn owne broþer sworn,
And hatfully, as þei han vs founde,
In cheynes cast and in stokkys bounde,
And after þat ylokked in presoun.
And for to make platly mencioun,
Þis myȝti man, þis gret[e] Polypheme,
A suster had, shortly for to deme,
Oon þe fairest þat euer ȝit was born—
She myȝt in bewte so be set a-forn,
Nature hir gaf swiche a prerogatyf—
A clene mayde, sothly, & no wyf,
Flouryng boþe in fairnes & bounte,
Whom Alphenor whan he dide se,
Al-be he was fetrid in prisoun,
For loue he lost wit & eke resoun,
And wex al mad, so na[r]we she dide him binde,
—Saue [vp-]on hir alwey was his mynde,
And closid ay was his perlous wounde.
And sixe monþes þus we leie bo[u]nde,
Boþe he & I, to seyn þe plat[te] trouþe,
Til Polypheme had vp-on vs rouþe;
And þoruȝ his grace and mediacioun
He quyt vs fre out of þat prisoun,
And shewed vs, of mercy and pite,
After oure sorwe gret humanite.
But Alphenor, yliche of oon entent,
Was with þe brond of Cupide brent,
And felt his part with many mortal fyt,
Til he so wrouȝt by his sotil wyt,
Þat on a nyȝt, who was lef or loþe,
He stale þis mayde, & his weye he goþe,
Þoruȝ help of men with him at þat tyme.
But on þe morwe at þe hour of pryme
Poliphemus gan vs for to sewe,
Whos myȝti hond we myȝt[e] nat eschewe;
And swiche a-saut on vs þei gan make,
Þat of force þei han þe mayde take
From Alphenor, maugre al his rage.
And Polypheme vn-to my damage
With his knyȝtes so sore vp-on me lay,
Þat I myȝt vnneþe eskape a-way
To saue my lyf, compassid enviroun,
To deth purswyd of þat champioun.
But whan I sawe þer was non oþer geyn,
To fle þe deth, shortly for to seyn,
While þis geaunt most fersly on me sette
With my swerd oute his eye I smette;
And vn-to ship with my companye
I fledde in haste, þat no man myȝt espie
Where I be-cam, nor Alphenor my fere.
And whan þe wawes gon[ne] for to clere,
And gracious wynd gan to vs awake,
Þilk contre we han anoon forsake—
It was nat holsom for vs to abide.”
—But of þis man like as writ Ovide,
Poliphemus þe geaunt, out of drede,
Had an eye mydde of his forhede,
Whiche Vlixes smot out at a stroke;
And like þe bowes of a braunchid oke
Was al his heer & his longe berde,—
On whom to loke childer were a-ferd.
And whan þat he had[de] lost his siȝt,
A-monge þe hilles he renneth day & nyȝt,
In a rage, to fynde hym som refuge,
Cast[e] roches and grete stones huge
On euery part enviroun þe contre,
On Vlixes avenged for to be.
Þus seith Ovide, in conclusioun,
In his boke of transformacioun—
Methamorphoseos—þer ȝe may it se,
Whan-so-euere þat ȝour leyser be
Ceriously þe story for to rede.
And in writinge forþe I wil procede,
How Vlixes, with face ded and pale,
To Ydumee told[e] forþe his tale,
Rehersyng þus, supprised & a-wapid:
“Fro Polipheme whan we wern eskaped,
Þoruȝ oure vnhap and infelicyte
In-to an yle myddes of þe see
We were dryve, whan it gan to nyȝte;
And Elodium þat litel kyngdam hyȝte,
Wher þat Circes, þe gret enchaunteresse,
Þilke tyme was lady and goddesse,
Þat koude hir craft so wonderly performe,
Al sodeynly a man for to transforme
To haue þe liknes (& lesen his resoun)
Of hors or bere, tigre or lyoun,
Wolf or fox, or what hir list deuise—
Hir dredful craft was shapen in swiche wise,
So myȝti wern hir straunge pociouns,
Her letuarye[s] and confecciouns.
And she also so fair vp-on to se,
Þat fro hir power to man myȝt[e] fle.
For be þe werke of þis sorceresse,
I was so fonned vppon hir fairnesse,
Þat finally þus with me it stood:
Þat al a ȝere I with hir [a]bood,
And pleynly had power noon ne myȝt
For to depart, nouþer day ne nyȝt,
So lusti was þe lyf þat I ladde,—
In whiche tyme by me a child she hadde,
Riȝt inly fair & goodly to þe siȝt.”
—And Thelagonivs in sothnes he hiȝt,
Whiche afterward, I [wel] reherse can,
By processe wex a manly man.—
“And be my sotil secre prouidence,
Of hir craft I hadde experience,
Þat maugre hir enchauntementes olde,
I stale a-way—she myȝt[e] me nat holde.
And finally my fate to conclude,
With my konnyng hir craft I gan delude,
Þat with my men I skaped fro her hond
And went at large fre out of hir lond.
But al þis þing me litel dide availe;
For on my way as I gan to saile,
For al my sleiȝt, in a litel while
I blowe was vp in-to an yle
Wher Calypha, suster to Circes,
Was crowned quene, & held her scepter in pes;
Whos craftis wern so myȝty & so strong,
Maugre my wil she held me þer ful long.
But she, in soþe, to speke of wommanhed,
Of bounte, fredam, and of goodlyhed,
Surly had so souereyn excellence,
Þat myn abood to me was noon offence.
But who-so-euere þer-at crye or clappe,
At þe last I skaped fro hir trappe
And cam to an yle, riȝt as any lyne,
Whiche specialy þoruȝ hiȝ power devyne
Ordeyned is of ȝore be myracle,
As it were, a spiritual oracle—
A man to haue in a temple þere
Sodeyn answere of what him list enquere,
Of questiouns and demaundes alle,
And of soule[s] what shal eke be-falle
Whan men ar dede & graven vnder stoon.
And I gan axe in þe temple anoon
Myn aventures þat shuld after swe,
And wher a man myȝt his fate eschewe;
And of al þis, lyk to myn entent,
I had answere ful conuenient—
Saue what befalleth whan a soule is goon,
Diffynycioun vn-to me was noon,
Swiche þing tasoile acordeþ nat to riȝt:
It is reserued vn-to Goddes myȝt,
And excedeth resoun & wit of man.
And fro þens forþe to seile I gan,
Dreven with wynde, & no part socoured,
Wher I was lyk to haue be deuourid
Of Caribdis, with his profounde welle,
Where Sirenes, Meremaydnes, dwelle,
Þat fro þe brest, with skalis siluer shene,
Ben of her shap fysches freshe & clene,
And vpper-more, Kynde doth compasse
Hem to apere femynyn of face,
Lyk virgines þat were of nature
With-oute spot, vndefouled pure.
And of custom, in wawis as þei flete,
Þe song of hem is so heuenly swete,
So angelik and ful of armonye,
Þat verrailly þe sugred melodie
Ravisshe wolde any man a-lyve,
Of inly Ioie almost his hert[e] ryue—
Make a man, of sodeyn hiȝe plesaunce,
Forȝete hym silf & lese his remembraunce,
Devoide hym clene from his owne þouȝt,
Til vnwarly he be to meschef brouȝt.
And with her song, or he take kepe,
He shal be brouȝt in a mortal slepe;
And þei anoon—it may not be withdrawe—
Wil drenche his ship lowe vnder þe wawe!
Þus þe swetnes of her heuenly soun
Bringeth a man to confusioun—
Who-so-euere by her boundis pace.
But with þe lif I eskaped by grace:
For myn erys with wex & gommys clere
Were stoppid so, þat I ne myȝt[e] here
Touche nor werble of her instrumentis,
Wher-by þe resoun of [a] man y-blent is.
And, finally, þoruȝ my sotilte,
I and my men ben eskapid fre,
Seiling forþe, al mat of werynesse,
Til we cam vp, with ful gret distresse,
At Phenyce, & toke a-noon þe lond,
Cast anker, and oure shippes bond.
But, sothly, þer it fil vs ful vnfaire;
For þe peple, cruel and contraire,
Only of malis fil on me anoon,
And slowe my men almost euerychon;
Tresour & good, litel þat I hadde,
Was me by-raft; and al with hem þei ladde;
And fewe of hem þat wer left alive,
Þei token hem & put in prisoun blyve.
Þus haþ Fortune lad me on her daunce
With litel Ioie and plente of meschaunce,
Of whos daunger lerned and expert,
I am falle in meschef and pouert;
And with gret dool & sorwe ful my brest,
On se and londe, by souþe & nat by est
I am com vn-to ȝoure presence,
And haue declared pleinly in sentence
Myn auentures to ȝoure worþinesse,
Of trust only and of feithfulnesse
Þat I haue to ȝow in special.
And now I haue rehersid & told al
To ȝoure hiȝnesse in my best[e] wyse,
With-oute more—to me it doth suffise.”

Of þe grete comforte that kynge Ydumeus shewed to Vlyxes; and howe kynge Alpheon, for his grete wysdam, ressavyd hym worshipfully, and conveyed hym to his kyngdam.

And þauȝ in hert he was constreyned sore,
Þilk[e] tyme Vlixes spak no more,
But held his pes, ful hevy in lokyng.
And Ydumeus lik a gentil kyng
Counforted hym al þat euere he myȝt,
And besy was his hert[e] for to liȝt,
And hym besouȝt his heuynes[se] lete,
And as long as hym list in Crete
With hym abide,—he made hym surete
He shuld[e] faren also wel as he,
And nat want of what may do him ese.
And whan his sorwe som-what gan apese,
Þat his rage drow vn-to an ende,
Leue he toke, & seide he wolde wende
Oute of þat londe home to his contre.
But first þe kyng, of fredam & bounte,
Ȝaf vn-to hym gret riches and array,
And what-so-euere was vn-to his pay,
Gold, tresour, & many oþer þinges;
And at þe partynge of þese tweyne kynges
Þere wer shippes whan him list to saile,
Redy stuffid with meyne and vitaile.
And þus Vlixes gan hym redy make;
And whan he haþe his leue fully take,
He hasted hym & toke anoon þe se,
And gan saile toward his contre.
But first he went to kyng Alphenoun,
Whiche passingly hadde affeccioun
To sen Vlixes at his home-comyng,
And desirous ouer al[le] thing
To han of hym newly aqueyntaunce:
For vn-to hym was inly gret plesaunce
To here hym talke, for his elloquence,
For his wysdam & his hiȝe prudence
And þer he was, after al his smert,
Receyved pleinly with a[s] glad [an] hert
As euere ȝit was any maner man
Siþen tyme þat þe world be-gan;
And to encres of his Felicite,
Þer herd he first of Penolope,
His trewe wyf, with-oute spot or blame,
Of whom ȝit grene is þe noble fame,
Whiche from hir lord, for al his long absence,
In þouȝt nor dede nevir dide offence,
But sothly was, boþe in chere & dede,
Þoruȝ-oute Grece example of wommanhede.
And ȝit was she, as bokes list expresse,
Þoruȝ-oute þe world merour of fairnes,
And among Grekis born of hiȝest blood,
Called of auctours boþe fair and good;
And ȝit seyn bokes of hir, douteles,
Was neuer noon þat had so gret pres,
But she hir kepte, chaunging for no newe,
Vn-to hir lord euere I-liche trewe,
Of hert [ay] oon, nat partid in-to tweyne,
Þat she is called quene & souereyne
Of wyfly trouþe in þis bokis olde.
And oft, I fynde, hir hert[e] wold[e] colde,
She turne pale for hir lord so ferre,
In hir closet to heren of þe werre,
Of drede she had, & for fere eke quake,
Of fantasies for hir lordes sake;
For his absence, boþe eve & morwe,
Was deth to hir & importable sorwe.
And ay, in sothe, for Ioie or any game,
Whan it fel she herd Hectoris name,
In any place anoon she fil a-swowne,
And gan hir silf al in teris drowne,
Of wommanhed so she was a-ferde
To here þe slauȝter of his mortal swerde,
List hir lord, of knyȝtly surquedie,
Hadde of fortune falle in iupartye,
Of hap or sort tamet þat worþi knyȝt,
Þat selde or neuer she felt hir hert[e] liȝt.
And many a dreme a-nyȝtes dide hir gaste,
Al þe while þat þe sege laste;
And euery play was venym in hir siȝt,
Whan þat she was from hir owne knyȝt:
For in þis world she had Ioie noon
Of hiȝe nor lowe, pleinly, but of oon,
For whos sake al myrþe she refuseth.
And who-so be þat in his hert[e] museth
Of any womman any þing but good,
Of malencolye mevid in his blood,
Lat hym aduerte of wisdam and [y-]se,
And remembre on Penolope,
For his decert list þat he be blamyd!
And, o Guydo, þou shuldest ben ashamed
To seyn of wyves any þing but wele:
For, in good feith, as fer as I can fele,
Þouȝ oon or two do among offence,
She þat is good þoruȝ hir prouidence
Is þer-of no þing for to wyte.
And þouȝ Guydo in his boke endite
Þe variaunce of Eleyne or Cryseyde,
Or Medea, þat for sorwe deyde,
Lete þer ageyn, of riȝt and equite,
Þe wyfly trowþe of Penolope,
Þe maydenhed of ȝong[e] Policene,
And þe goodnes of Eccuba þe quene,
Of Cassandra eke þe stedfastnes,—
And with al þis, take þe kyndenes
Of Pantasile, with-oute variaunce,
And put al þis to-gidre in balaunce,
And ȝe shal fynde, ȝif ȝe list acounte,
Maugre who grucchiþ, trouth[e] shal surmounte,—
I dar aferme—& bere a-weye þe pris:
Þer wil no man replie þat is wys,—
He were to feble in his oppinioun!
And while Vlixes was with Alphenoun,
It was to hym made relacioun
Of an hatful conspiracioun,
Þat certeyn lordis enviroun his contre
Ravisshe wolde his quene Penolope,
Maugre alle þo þat were þer ageyn,
Al-be þat she was euere I-like pleyn,
In hir trouþe stidefast as a wal.
Ȝet þei haue cast, pleynly, þat she shal
Be take of force, it may nat be eschewed,
But it so be in haste she be reskewed:
For þei hem cast þe tyme nat aiourne;
For day and nyȝt with hir [þei] soiourne,
Inly in herte for loue disamaied.
But of wisdam she haþe hem so delaied,
Þat þer was noon so manly nor so sage,
Þat koude of hir geten avauntage,
So avise she was in hir wirkyng.
And whan Vlixes conceyved al þis þing,
And fully knewe by open evidence,
And also [had] in special credence
Sent vn-to hym fro Penolope,
Þe mater hool declaringe in secre,
His owne sone Thelamonevs,
He wexe in herte wood and furious,
And wolde make no delacioun,
But in al haste besouȝte Alphenoun,
Þe myȝti kyng, of his hiȝ bounte
To releue hym in his aduersite,
And þat he wold þoruȝ his myȝti hond
Of gentilnes conveye hym to his lond.
He graunteþ hym & seiþ nat onys nay;
And boþe two in ful gret array
Taken þe se whan þe wynd was good;
Wel fortuned, for no þing hem with-stood,
Þei be arived & hadde no lettyng,
Wher Vlixes, as ȝe han herd, was kyng.
And secrely a-nyȝt þei wer conveied
To hem þat han his ligaunce disobeied;
And merciles, or þei myȝt a-wake,
In her beddes þei han hem alle take,
Makyng noon prolongyng til þe morwe,
But in al hast, for no wyȝt durst hem borwe,
Smet of her hedes by iugement final
And set hem vp on þe castel wal,
Eueryche by oþer endelong þe rowe,
Vp-on þe hour whan þe cok gan crowe.
And þus al nyȝt þei kept hem silf[e] cloos,
Til þat Phebus meryly aroos
In þe orient, whan þe larke song;
And þo þis kynges with her meyne strong,
Freshely beseyn, entre þe cite.
Who was þo glad but Penolope!
Who made Ioie but þis goodly quene,
Ful desirous hir owne lorde to sene!
But ȝif I shulde al in ordre sette,
Þe grete myrþe þei made whan þei mette,—
Make rehersaile of compleintes olde,
And how þei gan her hertes to vnfolde
Eche to oþer, and list no þing concele,
And þe gladnes þat þei inly fele,—
Ȝif I shulde put al in memorie,
Þe reioisshinge and þe hertly glorie
Þat his liges made at his comynge,
Þe costis eke þei hadde at his metynge,
Þe ȝiftes grete and presentis riche,
—In al þis world, I trow[e], noon I-liche—
It were to long tariyng for my boke!—
And how þat he newe assuraunce toke
Of his lordis and his liges alle,
And how þat þei to his grace falle,
Þe chere he made eke to Alphenoun
Of gentilnes þoruȝ his hiȝe renoun,
And how þe douȝter, inly debonaire,
Of Alphenoun, Nausia þe faire,
By Vlixes mediacioun
I-wedded was vn-to Thelamoun,
Born by discent—þer may no man say nay—
To reioisshe his crowne after his day:
And þus cam in by his purviaunce
Of two regnes þe myȝti alliaunce,—
And how al þis brouȝt was to þe knotte,
Men wolde deme me pleinly to sotte,
To presume of oppinioun
For to delate a descripcioun,
Siþen Guydo, touching but þe chef
In þis mater, of stile was but bref,
Shortly rehersing how kyng Alphenoun
Repeired is hom to his regioun,
And Vlixes in his chefe cite
Abood stille with Penolope,
Where I hym leue in Ioie and in solace
Til Antropos likeþ to purchace
For to ficche finally þe date,
Þe thred [to] vntwyne of his lyues fate.

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!”

Howe Atastus enquyred of Pirrus if he knewe ought of Pirrus governance, and Pirrus made him a synge to þe Cave wher Pelle was, to thentent to scley hym in lokenge thidere.

Atastus þo, of entencioun,
After many oþer questioun,
Enquered of hym in his daliaunce,
Ȝif he knewe ouȝt of Pirrus gouernaunce,
Or ȝif þat he koude ouȝt vnderstonde
Wher he hym kepte sith he cam to londe.
“I-wis,” quod he, “ȝif ȝe list hym haue,
He kepiþ hym cloos in þe ȝonder cave
Amonge bruskaile with a shrouded face,”—
Makyng a signe to þe same place.
And al was doon for an ydel maȝe:
For while þe kyng þedirward gan gaȝe,
Hasti Pirrus gan his swerd oute drawe
In purpos ful Atastus to haue slawe;
But wonderly, þe story can ȝow lere,
Quene Thetides dide anoon appere,
Al be-reyned with terys on hir face,
And gan þe swerd of Pirrus to embrace,
Preiyng him his dedly hond restreyne.
“Hastow nat slayn my ȝong[e] breþer tweyne?—
And now, allas! my fader, hoor and gray,
Merciles fro me wilt take a-way?
Put vp þi swerde! & no blood ne shede!
And haue pite vp-on þi kynrede,
And aduerte clerly to þe fyn,
How þou art come of þe same lyne,
And hatful is, who-so loke a-riȝt,
Vnkynde blood in euery mannys siȝt.”
And Pirrus þo, as any tigre wroþe,
Gan afferme, with many ful gret oþe,
Þat who-so grucche or a-geyn[e]s pleyne,
He shal hym sleen with his hondis tweyne:
“For hath nat he be fals extorcioun
Put Pelleus oute of his regioun,
Whiche is ȝour lord, & ȝe his trewe wif?—
Þat finally he shal lese his lyf,
And here anoon of myn hondis deye;—
In þis mater þer is no more to seye.”
But Pelleus, darynge in þe cave,
Of grace only list his lif to saue—
Al oþer help platly is for nouȝt.
And Pelleus was anoon forþe brouȝt,
Croked & olde, vnweldy eke to se,
And to-fore Pirrus fil doun on his kne,
Beseching hym with a pitous face
At his request taken hym to grace,
And þat he wold in his manly herte
Goodly considre þe dedly wo & smerte
Of Atastus, and þe mortal peyne
Þat he hadde for his sonys tweyne,
Whiche laie ded to-forn hym on þe grene,
“Slayn with ȝour swerde þat is so sharp & kene,
Whiche he ne may recuren in no wyse,
Þe sorwe of whiche ouȝt I-now suffyse,
Þouȝ ȝe on hym do no more vengaunce:
Al þis peised iustly in balaunce;
Sith he is hooly submitted to ȝour myȝt,
Takeþ now hym to merci anoon riȝt,
And late ȝoure swerd his age not consume—
Þis my request, as I dar presume.”
And þanne Pirrus, shortly for to seyn,
Whan he hadde put vp his swerd ageyn,
Seynge merci myȝt[e] most availe,
With-oute wordis or any rehersaile,
First of al, to-forn hem euerychon,
Þe kynges made accorden in-to oon,
By his wisdam, concluding vp in dede,
Þat eche of hem shulde his riȝt possede
In Thesalye, parted in-to tweyne,
Þat nouþer hadde mater to compleyne,
Eueryche to regne in his dewe se.
And while þei were to-gidre alle þre,
Oute of presence of any oþer man,
Atastus first þus his tale gan:

Howe Atastus resygnede his parte of the kyngdam of Thesalye to his cosyne Pirrus.

“Sirs,” quod he, “to ȝow is nat vnknowe
How þoruȝ age now I am brouȝt lowe,
And þoruȝ naturis kyndly mocyoun
Am wexe feble of wyt and [of] resoun,
Beyng vnweldy of my lymes alle
—So many ȝeris arn vp-on me falle—
And can vneþe any þing discerne,
To feble, in soth, a kyngdam to gouerne,
Of lyf nor deth takyng now noon hede,
Sith my sonys slay[e]n ben and dede,
And sool am left now with-oute eyr,
Of worldly lust fully in dispeir,
Þe tyme passed of my felicite.
Fortunys turne with mvtabilite
Hath tauȝt me, pleinly, I dar it wel expresse,
In worldly Ioie is no sikernesse,
Nor verray trust no while to abide;
But I wil now for my silf prouide,
And in al hast, by prudent puruyaunce,
Me discharge of al gouernaunce—
Ageyn my sort me list not maligne;
But septer & crowne frely I resigne,
Of Thesalye lordshipe & eke lond
Of my fre wil hool in-to þin hond,—
Þer schal no man reclayme nor seye nay,
Interupte nor make no delay
Touching þis þing, by no collusioun,
For I þe putte in pocessioun.”
And, here-vp-on, of al þat euere he seide
Makyng ful feith, his hond in his he leide,
Quene Thetides sittyng þere present.
And Pelleus, of þe same entent,
Vn-to Pirrus for his purpa[r]tye
Resigned eke þe riȝt of Thesalye,
Fully affermyng þat of ȝore a-go
His ful desire and his Ioie also
Was euere in oon his nevew to succede,
As riȝtful eyr his kyngdam to possede,
“And outerly, with-oute repentaunce,
Al þat longeþ [vn-]to my lig[e]aunce,
Septer & swerd, crowne & diademe,
So as a kyng lyf and deth to deme,
In-to þin hond, with-oute lenger date,
Þis same houre hooly I translate.”
And whan þe knotte of þis conuencioun
Was fully brouȝt to conclusioun,
Parformyd vp hool þe vnite
For euermore, atwen þese kynges þre,
Atastus knyȝtes, disseuered enviroun,
Oute of þe forest be descended doun,
And be bidding, platly, of her lord
Þei were echon sworn to þis acord.
And attonis þis lusti companye
To Thesalye fast[e] gan hem hiȝe;
And Pirrus folke, ligginge on þe se,
Be seiled forþe, streit to þe cite.
And Atastus doth sette a parlement,
Where openly he gaf commaundement
Þat alle his liges, of hiȝe or lowe estat,
With-oute strif or any more debate,
Specially of gentil blod y-born,
Þe same day to Pirrus to be sworn
Like her degres in þe royal halle,
To perseuere his trew[e] liges alle
Durynge her lyf, for ernest or for game.
And Pelleus commaunded haþe þe same
For his parti, with-outen any fraude.
And þus with Ioie & solemne laude,
Pirrus was of euery maner age
Gladly accepted to his heritage.
And on a day fortunat and good,
With glad aspectus whan þe heuene stood,
Wel according to swiche maner þing,
Worþi Pirrus was y-crowned kyng
Of Thesalye, þe riche regioun—
It were but veyn to make mencioun
Of her reuel ne her gret array,
Nor of þe fest made þe same day,
Eke in þe story I fynde it nat, in soth.
I wyl passe ouer as myn auctor doth—
Saue in his boke it is specefied
Þat þe kyngdam was fer magnified
Of Thesalye by þe grete myȝt
Of þis Pirrus, whilom so good a knyȝt,
Where I leue hym in his royal se,
Tournyng agayn to kyng Ydumee,
Whiche in þis while was graue vnder stoon.
And after hym, his sone Mereoun,
Þe story seith, was crownyd king of Crete;
But a while regnyng in quyete,
He deide also—it wold[e] be noon oþer.
And þanne anon Leorica, his broþer,
As riȝtful eyr be successioun
Was crowned kyng of þat regioun,
In whiche tyme Atastus, out of drede,
By þassent of Pirrus, as I rede,
Ful besi was to make in special
A riche toumbe, passyngly royal,
Where buried wern with ful huge pres
Menalippus and Polistenes,
Boþe two in þe forest slawe
Þoruȝ Pirrus swerde, be ful cruel lawe—
Of hem can I noon oþer processe make,
But euene her fully my leve I take
Of hem boþe, and also eke yfere
Of Atastus, her owne fader dere,
Of whom, sothly, for al his lokkes hore,
In Troye boke rede I can no more.
But now mvst I ageyn to Pirrus wende,
To write of hym þe sory woful ende,
Whiche, whan he sat hiȝest in his se,
Made ful blind with veyn prosperite,
Gouernyng þe lond of Thesalye,
He falsly fil in-to a fantasie
To sette his loue on Hermyon þe quene,
Horestes wyf, regnynge in Methene,
For whom he brent hoot as any fyre.
And in fulfillyng of his foule desire,
His purpos hool þus he brouȝt aboute:
Hir rauyssynge whil hir lord was oute,
Lad hir hoom & hilde hir as his wyf,
Semyng to hym it was a blisful lyf
And ful reles of his peynes smerte.
Of whiche Horestes bar ful hevy herte,
And cast hym pleynly avengid for to be
Whan he may haue opportunyte;
For þilk[e] tyme, þouȝ he had[de] wrong,
He was to feble & Pirrus was to strong.
Whiche held also, in stori it is tolde,
Andronomeca with hym in housholde,
Hectoris wyf, by whom whylom she had
A litel child, whiche with hir she lad—
Þe sege complet and destruccioun—
Whan she was brouȝt out of Troye toun:
Lamedonta, I fynde, was his name,
Encresyng after to ful worþi fame.
And by Pirrus she had a sone also
Called Achilleydos, so as writ Guydo;
And þis wommen, for al hir gret estate,
Atwen hem silf amonge wern at debate:
And Hermonye, in hir Ire al hoot,
In compleynyng to hir fader wrot
Þat hir fere, for al hir hiȝe degre,
Andronomeca was cherisshed bet þan she
Of kyng Pirrus, besechyng Menelay
Tenhasten hym, in al þat euere he may,
Come hym silf anoon þat it were do,
To sle þis woman & hir childe also.
And he bood nat, but faste gan him hiȝe,
In an hete, towarde Thesalye
To be venged with his swerde of stele
Vp-on hir þat trespasseþ neuer-a-dele.
But maugre hym, in al his cruelte,
She was reskewed myd of þe cite.
It is a þing whiche haþ nat ben herd:
To a womman a kyng to drawe his swerd—
I wil no more in þis mater dwelle,
In maner shamed it to write or telle.

How Cruelly kynge Horrestes, in the Tempylle of Appollo within the Ille of Delos, scleugh Pirrus, for that he had ravisshede quene Hermone, his wyff, and here kept in avoutreye.

But þis was doon while Pirrus of corage
To Delos was goon on pilgrymage,
Havyng with hym but a litel rout,
To Appollo to knelen & to loute,
For þe soule to preyen of Achille,
And his avowes also to fulfille,
And þanken hym with humble affeccioun
Of good expleit he had at Troye toun,
And for wreche, also, þat was take
At þe cite for his faderis sake.
But al þis þing here y-specified
Kyng Horestes warly hath espied,
And to Delos gan hasten him ful riȝt,
Ledyng with hym many lusty knyȝt;
And vnwarly he with Pirrus mette,
And vengably vp-on hym he sette,
Þat finally in þat straunge londe
Horestes slow hym with his owne hond.
I fynde, in soth, he made no diffence,
So sodeyn was þe mortal violence
Of his enmy, he koude nat asterte:
For or þat he myȝt his swerd aduerte,
He was on hym enviroun al be-set,
Þilke tyme it myȝt[e] be no bet;
For þer was nouþer socour nor declyn.
Þus was Pirrus brouȝt vn-to his fyn,
Late crowned kyng of Thesalye.
Lo, here þe guerdoun of avout[e]rie!
Lo, how þe mede and reward is ful rif,
To mysuse anoþer mannys wyf!
It is no drede, folowe shal vengaunce,
Sodeyn deth, or vnwar meschaunce,
Whiche euery man gretly ouȝte charge.
And in Delos in a temple large
Kyng Pirrus was lokked vnder stoon;
And Horestes forthe his weie is goon,
And by force gat his wyf ageyn—
Þer was no wyȝt durste hym þo with-seyn—
And to Methene proudly is repeired.
And Thesalye, pitously dispeired,
Destitut, as þei þat can no red,
Whan þei wist her worþi kyng was ded—
And eyr was noon, by successioun
To gouerne þat noble regioun
Saue Achilleydos, þat but litel a-forn
In Pirrus abscence was in Grece born,
Fully of age nat a quarter clene:
Þe ȝouþe of whom, sothly, was to grene,
Who liste considre, & to tendre of myȝt,
Ful many day, to reioishe his riȝt,
And to gouerne with septer in his hond
Þe large boundis of so gret a lond.
And ȝit þis child, likly and riȝt faire,
In verray soth was born to ben eyre
After Pirrus: þis is þe trouth[e] pleyn—
Þer was no man þat list it with-seyn.
But, I fynde, whan he cam to age
He resigned hool his herytage
To his broþer frely and his riȝt—
Lamedonte, a wonder manly knyȝt,
Þat was discendid of Troianysshe blood,
Doun fro þe stook of hym þat was so good,
Flour of knyȝthod, diffence of Frigia,
Þat hym begat on Andronomeca—
Ordeyned now, who-so gruche or frowne,
Of Thesalye for to bere þe crowne.
And whan he was made lord of þat lond,
And al was frely resigned to his hond,
He hath comaunded, no man dar replie,
Þoruȝ þe kyngdam of al Thesalye,
Þat alle þat wern in captiuite
Or prisoners of Troye þe cite,
For loue or hate, excepcioun was noon,
Þat alle shulde at her large goon,
By ful assent of Achilleydos;
And swiche as wern eke in presoun cloos,
With-oute raunsoun shal deliuered be,
And reioisshe þe fulle liberte
By custom vsid, boþe in borwe & toun,
Of þe liges of þat regioun.
And þus þe folke þat cam þral fro Troye
Restored ben sodeinly to Ioie
By Lamedonte, and I-maked fre.
And he eke regned in his royal se
Ful myȝtely, as I haue made mynde;—
In Troye boke no more of hym I finde,
Nor of Pirrus, nor of his kynred.
Fro hens forþe I can no processe rede,
But incidentes þat bere no substaunce,
Whiche were but veyn to put in remembrance,
—Except myn auctor, I not to what entent,
Here Impeth in a litel incident
I-wrouȝt & doon of ful ȝore a-goon,
Touching þe deth of þe kyng Menon,
Whiche be envie of cruel Achilles
Was slawe, in soth, among Mirundones,
Only for he proudly gan purswe
Vp-on Achilles Troylus to reskwe.
Whom kyng Priam made buried be
Beside Troylus in Troye þe cite,
In a temple y-bilt of marbil olde.

Howe quene Menone, longe aftire that she dyed, kam to þe towmbe of here husbonde, & karide away his bones.

And to what fyn [þat] þis tale is tolde,
In þis chapitle I shal reherse anoon:
Þe noble quene of þis kyng Menon,
After þe tyme long & many day
Þat she was ded & grauen vnder clay,
At hys toumbe heuenly gan appere
Al be-set with briȝt[e] sterris clere,
Whos similitude, for to rekne al,
Was lyke a þing þat were immortal,
Þat no man myȝt outterly sustene
To beholde,—of lok she was so shene,—
Doun discendyng fro þe firmament,
Ful many man being þere present,
Clad in a mantel ful celestial,
And of hir port passingly royal,
With swet[e]nes freshe as any rose,—
Made in al haste þe toumbe to vnclose
Of hir lord, & takeþ oute þe bonys,
And in a cheste made of gold & stonys
She couched hem, as fast as euer she may,
Disapered, & wente anoon hir way.
And to-for þat nor after, in certeyn,
In þilke place she was neuer seyn.
Somme affermyng, as by liklynes,
She was ouþer aungel or goddes,
Þe soule or fate of þe same kyng—
I can not deme in swiche heuenly þing,
Nor þer-in holde noon oppinioun,
For it transcendeth, shortly, my resoun.
And me list nat in swiche mater diffyne,
But resort riȝt as any lyne
To Vlixes, & a while dwelle,
Of his ende þe surplus for to telle,
And how þat he myȝt[e] nat eskape
Þe parodye, þat was for hym shap;
For Parchas han his laste terme set,
And Antropos mesured oute & met
His lyues þrede, on þe rokke sponne.
Defende þi silf, Vlixes, ȝif þou konne!
Shewe þi manhod, & be nat afferde,
And be wel war of þi sonys swerde!
For I shal now, lyk as I am wont,
Sharpen my penne, boþe rude & blont,
To descryue þe fyn of þi soiour,
Vp-on þe boundis set of my labour:
For almost wery, feint & waike I-now
Be þe bestes & oxes of my plow,
Þe longe day ageyn þe hil to wende.
But almost now at þe londes ende
Of Troye boke, ficche I wil a stake,
Saue I mote spende a fewe lines blake
Þe laste chapitle shortly to translate
Of al þis werke, and ympen in þe date
Of þilke day deth sette on hym arest,
Ful execute by hym he louede best.

Of A wonderful dreme that kynge Vlyxes had, and þe last in his days, which was a[ss]ingede by his clerkes, that one next of his blode shulde gyve hym his dethes wounde.