Lydgate's Fall of Princes :: :: University of Virginia Library

Who can reherse or telle the ground of werris,
The firste cause of such mortal outrage—
Wher it began bynfluence of sterris
Tween man and man, or of wilful rage,
As atween Romeyns & folkis of Cartage,
To gret hyndryng, considered the maneere,
Of bothe parties, as bookis doth us lere.

Italiens therwith wer greued ofte,
Namli whan Fortune was ther aduersarie.
And Affrican[e]s felte ful vnsofte,
Whan she to them list to be contrarie,—
Whos cours of custum stoundemeel doth varie,
Bexperience it hath be preued weel,
In the ouerwhelmyng of hir vntrusti wheel.

The moste worthi & the moste famous,
Afforn remembrid upon ech partie,
Fortune to-day made hem victorious,
And to-morwe she dede ther myht deffie.
Now up, now doun; al stood in iupartie,
Lik as she list them fauoure, nih or ferre,
Ther losse, ther wynnyng callid fortune of werre.

To summe weelwillid, happi & eurous,
To summe also ful straunge of aqueyntaunce;
Rekne among othir Marcus Regulus,
On Romeyn parti a prince of gret substaunce,
To be preferrid & put in remembraunce,
Oon the most worthi & trewe founde in deede
Of knihtli policie that I can of reede.

To comoun proffit was ay his aduertence,
Tween loue & hate stondyng so vpriht,
To nouther side declyned the ballaunce
Of his doomys, for fauour of no wiht,
Til that the eie off his inward siht
Conceyued hadde wher the trouthe stood:
Than gaff he sentence; & theron he abood.

598

In al this world ther was no bettir kniht,
Bettir named & born of good lynage,
A semli persone, delyuer & of gret myht,
Hardi as leoun, riht manli off visage,
Wal of the Romeyns, sharp yerd to Cartage,
Demure, nat hasti, seyng al thyng toforn;
And in Papynia I fynde that he was born.

And for he hadde so gret discrecioun,
This worthi kniht, this Marcus Regulus,
Chosen he was a consul of the toun,
And hadde a felawe callid Manlius,
In armys manli, wis and vertuous.
Which for ther expert notable hih constaunce
Of Romeyn werris hadde the gouernaunce.

Ther shippis stuffed, maad a gret arme,
Ful prudentli with knihtli apparaille
Thes princis tweyne taken han the se;
First with Sicilians hadde a gret bataille,
Discounfited hem, & at ther arryuaille
Outraied Amulchar, the stori is no fable,
That was of Affrik capteyn & constable.

Gat in that contre castellis many on,
Took prisoneres, stuff & gret richesse;
And al that pray to Roome he sente anon
Bi Manlius, the stori berth witnesse.
And the Romeyns for his worthynesse,
Alle of assent, because he was so wis,
Prolongid han the terme off his offis.

Off knihtli noblesse was non onto hym lik,
Nouthir in armys nor politik ordenaunce;
And for the conquest off Cartage & Affrik,
To hym thei gaff of bothe the gouernaunce.
Brouht citees, toun[e]s to the obeissaunce
Of the Romeyns, this noble worthi kniht,
Wher-euer he rood, maugre ther foos myht.

Be his feithful laborious dilligence
Gat al the contres to Cartage toun,

599

Til tidyngis cam vnto his presence,
Beside a ryuer ther was a gret dragoun,
So horrible, as maad is mencioun,
That al the contre of hym stood in such doute,
No man durste neihhe hym ferre aboute.

An hundred feet & tueyne was his lengthe,
Lik as writeth Titus Lyuyus.
Was non so hardi, nor no man of such strengthe
That durste approche; he was so venymous.
But bi the manhod of Marchus Regulus
Islay[e]n was this monstruous serpent,
And for a merueil the skyn to Rome sent.

Thus in conquest whil he dede his peyne
To gete castellis & myhti stronge touns,
Geyn hym wer sent Astruballis tweyne,
Callid of Affrik the hardi champiouns,
With al the poweer of ther regiouns.
But as the stori maketh rehersaile,
Thei wer discounfited bothen in bataile.

Amulchar aftir cam with spere & sheeld
In diffence of Affrik & Cartage;
And he was also distrussed in the feeld
With al his host[e], maugre his visage.
Thus Marchus hadde alway thauauntage,
Makyng the Romeyns, this kniht most vertuous,
Thoruh hih prowesse to be victorious.

And wher that he in his tendre age
List to laboure & tile his owne lond,
For exercise & vertuous auauntage
To holde the plouh & leede it with his hond,
Auoidyng slouthe, as ye shal vndirstond,—
Now thoruh al Affrik with many worthi kniht
He rideth armed in steel & mailles briht.

600

This noble Mark, what-euer he hadde ado,
He was in armys soueryn synguleer;
And in the temple at Rome of Appollo
For hym was kept a crowne of fressh laureer,
Forgid of gold, fret ful of stonis cleer:
And in the temple of Iouis was reserued
A robe of victorie, which he hath disserued.

To these goddis, who can considre weel,
Of old custum ther rihtis to meynteene,
As for a thyng beyng perpetuel,
Which fadeth neuere of nature, thus I meene,
Isacrid is the fressh[e] laureer greene:
For causis tweyne grauntid to conquerours,
In marcial actis bi conquest maad victours.

For the noblesse of this tre dyuyne
Sheweth [bi] his odour in wisdam excellence;
Bi the grennesse, which neuer doth declyne,
Long abidyng of vertuous prudence;
The rounde crowne betokneth prouidence,
In signe onli, al knihtli gouernaunce
Taketh his guerdoun of long contynuaunce.

Ther strengthe onli graunteth hem nat the crowne,
Nor a proud gynnyng stablissheth nat þer glorie,
But perseueraunce, who list muse or rowne,
Graunteth to them & putteth in memorie
The triumphe & palme of ther victorie,
The crowne of laureer, in stori it is told,
And of Iubiter the riche robe of gold.

Who can disserne, of alle thes giftes thre,
Most apparteneth onto cheualrie,
Manli prowesse, wisdam, anon lat see,
Strengthe, hardynesse, conquest, policie?—
For the Romeyns kauhte a fantasie,
For his meritis notable & glorious
To magnefie this Marcus Regulus.

601

For this Marcus duryng his lusti yeeris
Prynce of the werris geyn Affrik & Cartage,
Took alle ther yonge knihtis prisoneeris,
Sent hem to Rome for comoun auauntage.
But O, alas! whan he was falle in age,
The geri goddesse, among hir chaunges alle,
Ageyn this prince hir fauour made appalle.

For to withstonde the prowesse of this kniht,
In helpe of Affrik, as maad is mencioun,
Cam Zantipus, of whom I spak now riht,
A myhti duk, the which[e] was sent doun
Fro Lacedemoyn; which thoruh his hih renoun,
Whan the poweer of Marchus gan to faille,
His mene slay[e]n, took hym in bataille,—

Into Cartage sent hym prisoneer;
And ther he lay in stronge cheynys bounde.
Loo, how Fortune chaunge can hir cheer,
Falsest of trust whan she is most iocounde;
First fauourable, aftir froward founde:
This hir maner with hir double face,
Folk that sit hiest to chaunge hem fro ther place.

For he that whilom hadde in subieccioun
Almost al Affrik, & Cartage the cite,
Now lith he bounde & fetrid in prisoun,
Whilom in glorie, now in aduersite,
Cast in miserie from hih prosperite.
Fortunis fauours be maad, who looke weel,
Of brotel glas rather than of steel.

This manli kniht, al-be that he lay cheyned,
Which had brouht Rome to so hih encres,
That thei of Affrik & Cartage wer constreyned
Vnto the Romeyns to pursue for a pes;
And for tacomplisshe this mateer dout[e]les,
Vndir assuraunce made in Cartage toun,
Thei took[e] Marcus anon out of prisoun.

Bounde bi his oth, ther is no mor to seyn,
He to be chaungid for Affrik prisoneris;
Ther for tabide, & thei to come ageyn,
The yonge knihtis, fressh lusti of ther cheeris.

602

So that Marchus, feeble & old of yeeris,
Bi Affrican[e]s was to Rome sent,
Bi oth assured, tacomplisshe ther entent.

For the Romeyns hadde in such deynte
This noble Mark for manhod & prudence,
And for the foorthryng of ther comounte,
Thei hadde his persone for wisdam in reuerence,
Cald of that toun ther wal & ther diffence,
Hadde in mor cheerte for knyhthod in that age
Than al ther prisoneris of Affrik & Cartage.

Romeyns gretli reioisshed of his comyng,
And specialli for his delyueraunce;
Alle attonis, of herte & trewe menyng,
Saide, “wolcom hom, our ioie, our suffisaunce,
Wolcome, merour of knihtli gouernaunce!”
This was ther vois & this was ther langage
At his repair from Affrik & Cartage.

And thus resceyued lik to his estat
And conveied thoruh al the cite,
Nobli presentid up to the senat,
Began his tale, anon as ye shal see,
As he that hadde mor in cheer[i]te
The comoun proffit than his delyueraunce,
Saide onto them these woordes in substaunce:

“Sires, be thauys of you echon present,
First bi thestatis, next bi the comounte,
As prince & consul to Affrik I was sent;
And, as ye knowe, seuene yeer I haue ther be
To chastise rebellis of that contre,
And bi the fauour & helpe of Goddis myht,
To your cite aquit me lik a kniht.

In this mateer it needeth nat to tarie,
Ye knowe yoursilff I am now wexen old,
And Fortune is to me contrarie,
Wherbi your enmyes in Affrik be maad bold.
And thei desire me for to be sold
In eschaung, bi short conclusioun,
For prisoneres which ye haue in the toun.

603

And bi the fauour of goddis hih in heuene,
And bi my felawes wis mediacioun,
Contrees, provynces, mo than sixe or seuene
I haue in Affrik maad subiect to this toun,
Maugre ther myht & ther rebellioun,
And them constreyned, lik as ye desire,
For tobeie vnto your empire.

To make your lordship mor statli glorious,
And tencrece the boundis of your cite,
Whilom bi grace I was victorious,
Venquisshed your enmyes wher-euer I dede hem see;
Now thoruh Fortunis mutabilite
Maad vnhappi & desolat of cheer,—
Sumtyme a prince & now a prisoneer.

Afforn, my poweer bi Fortune was fraunchised,
Now am I thrall & fetrid in prisoun;
Myn olde triumphes be neweli now disguised,
And [my] victories oppressid & bor doun.
With this considered the transmutacioun
Of youthe passid & myn vnweeldi age,
Litil wonder thouh dul be my corage.

Yit ther is a thyng that draweth along my lyff,
Which in myn herte hath sette gret gladnesse:
To your encres how in this mortal striff
Bi my labour & knihtli bisynesse
The marcial princis, famous in worthynesse,
With al the knihtis most soueryn of renoun
Souht thoruh Affrik, be now in your prisoun.

Bi whos absence feeblid is Cartage;
The contre porisshed, brouht to disencres.
Seyng that I am dul and falle in age
Geyn Affricans to put my-silff in pres,
Causyng your enmyes [to] pursue for the pes
Beschaung of me, that may but smal auaile,
For Affrik knihtis most expert in bataille.

604

Thei stonde in hope of ther delyueraunce
Beschaung of me, now sent out of prisoun,
Of entent tencrecen ther puissaunce,
Of newe to gynne a werre upon your toun.
Now taketh good heed, & of discrecioun
Peiseth of prudence this thyng that I haue told,
Ther youthe considred, & I am feeble & old.

I am consumyd & wered in the werris;
Fortune contrarie, I feeble to bere armure:
Thei lusti fressh, ther name spredde ful ferr is,
And in the feeld thei able to endure.
I vnweldi, & lik a creature
Mor sembl[abl]e to drawe hom to my graue,
Than to be armyd this cite for to saue.

And in effect, I haue mor cheer[i]te,
Of verray feith withoute variaunce,
Vnto the proffit of your comounte
Than to the mateer of my delyueraunce;
Too thynges peised & weied in ballaunce:
Of Affrik knyhtis thexpert worthynesse,
In me the constreynt off agis feebilnesse.

And to conclude upon this mateer,
I myhte neuere, as semeth onto me,
As of knihthod disseruen the laureer
Nor the tryumphe in this famous cite,
Bet than deie tencrece the comounte,
And thus auised, of herte & hool corage
Yeld up the sperit of myn vnweeldi age.”

In this purpos, he, stedfast as a wall,
Of o will and oon perseueraunce,
Hymsilff comendyng to goddis inmortall,
Ches for to deie off politik constaunce,
And to preferre bi notable purueyaunce
The comoun proffit: this was his motiff,—
Set aside good, tresour and his lyff.

Riht weel cheerid, stable of his visage,
Of parfit loue he hadde onto the toun,
He is repaired ageyn onto Cartage,

605

Tharticles kept and the condicioun
At the departyng from Affrik regioun:
This to seyne, texpleite ther lust certeyne,
Or prisoneer he to resorte ageyn.

At his departyng the Romeyn senatours
Gan wexe pale off compassioun,
To seen the pauys of al ther old socours
As prisoneer departe out of the toun.
Princessis, ladies fill a-swowne doun;
Childre wepte & cried for pite,
“Farweel upholdere, cheeff wal of our cite!”

Was euer founde any trewer kniht?
Which of his owne feithful mocioun,
Wher he was free, & poweer hadde & myht,
Taue stonde at large bi his eleccioun,
To keepe his promis repaired to prisoun!
What shal I write of his noblesse or shewe?—
To fynde oon lik hym, I reede but of a fewe!

And whan he cam ageyn with his massage,
Knowyng thentent of this worthi knyht,
Most furiousli the peeple of Cartage,
In the presence of euery maner wiht,
Ordeyned han a torment anon riht.
First the liddis of his eien tweyne,
Thei kutte hem of to encrece his peyne,

That he nat sholde slepen in prisoun,
But euer wachche with peyne intollerable,
And for the constreynt of his passioun
Crie & compleyne with sihhis lamentable.
And aftir this, thei token a pleyn table,
Fret ful of nailles sharp[e] whet & grounde,
And therupon naked thei hym bounde.

Another table thei leide on hym aloffte,
Nailed also; and atween thes tweyne
Thei couchid hym; his bed was ful vnsoffte,
Most importable, so hidous was the peyne;
The blood ran out of eueri senew & veyne.
This was his torment, alas, a cruel deth!—
Of worthi Marchus til he yald up the breth.

606

Who radde in bookes or euer dede see
Of any princis so stedfast & so stable
As whilom wern in Rome the cite,
Or in ther conquest so longe perdurable,
On vertu foundid, of corage vnchaungable!
Rekne up alle that euer wer in that toun,
And to this Marchus mak no comparisoun.

Rekne Kamylles, Papires, Scipiouns,
Notable worthi for many gret victorie;
Rekne up alle ther othir champiouns,
Cursius, Fabricus famous of memorie.
But this Regulus eclipseth al ther glorie
And surmounteth, bi report of renoun,
Al thes forsaide in comparisoun.

Rekne up the foure that whilom wer so riche,
The firste of them callid Lucius,
Other tweyne of condicioun liche,
As was Scavrus & Gayus Delius;
And forget nat the grete Emelius,—
But for al ther gret pocessioun,
Make to Marchus no comparisoun.

Remembre on Crassus, of whom it is told,
The Assiriens to staunche his couetise
Pored in his throte, strangled hym with gold;
So he deide, the stori doth deuise.
And thouh thes foure wendyn ha be wise,
Gretli comendid thoruh fals oppynyoun,
Of them to Marchus mak no comparisoun.

Touchyng this Mark, lat men beholde & see:
He leffte his tresour, his fredam & richesse,
And for the proffit of the comounte
Forsook his freendis, Bochas berth witnesse;
To foorthre his toun deied in distresse,
To keepe his feith resorted to prisoun,—
Mak of non othir to hym comparisoun.

607

Myn auctour heer put in remembraunce
Summe that hadde gold, stonis & perre,
Summe that hadde of richesse habundaunce,
And of othir that stood in dignite,
And summe that hadde worldli prosperite,—
Set al aside, & conclude on resoun,
Tween them & Marchus is no comparisoun.

Princis may lyue aftir ther ententis,
Aftir ther lustis, after ther delices,
Of gold & purpure were riche garnementis,
Aftir ther poweer frowardli in vices,
Graunte ther mynistris in cites gret offices,—
Tween al ther pompe & veyn ambicioun
And atween Mark mak no comparisoun.

Alle these thynges remembred in certeyn,
Weel considred & Iput in mynde,
Ther wer in Rome but fewe such[e] seyn,
To comoun proffit that founde wer so kynde.
And, til I may such another fynde
In al this book[e], turnyng up-so-doun,
I will to hym make no comparisoun.