University of Virginia Library

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.