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Lydgate's Fall of Princes

Edited by Dr. Henry Bergen ... presented to The Early English Text Society by The Carnegie Institution of Washington

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[How Albonyus was moordred by his wif / and how she aftir most vicious was moordred also.]
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[How Albonyus was moordred by his wif / and how she aftir most vicious was moordred also.]

Kyng Alboinus, as ye shal vndirstonde,
Afftir many conquest & victorie,
Which he hadde [had] both on se & londe,
To putte his name & triumphes in memorie,
Leet crie a feeste to his encres of glorie;
At which[e] feeste, solempne & princepall,
So as he sat in his estat roiall,
Parcel for pride, parcel for gladnesse,
The queen present, the said[e] Rosamounde,
Take and supprised he was with dronk[e]nesse,
Of myhti wynes which þat day did habounde,
Sent a goblet of gold, as it is founde,
Vnto the queen, with licour ful plesaunt,
Bad to hir fadir [she] sholde drynke a taunt.
She dempte it was a maner moquerie,
First hir name and worshep to confounde,
To bidde hir drynke a taunt for hir partie
To hir fadir, the said[e] Trusymounde,
Slay[e]n afforn with many bloodi wounde

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Be Albonius, thoruh his vnhappi chaunce,—
Of which rebuk she cast to do vengaunce.
She bar the rancour ful long in hir entent,
Which day be day gan renewe & encrece.
A certeyn squieer she made of hir assent,
Which tacomplisshe she wolde neuer cese.
And on another squieer she gan prese,
Callid Peredeus, accorded al in oon,
This false moordre texecute anon.
The day was set; whil he lay & sleepe
Fill upon hym with sharp suerdis grounde:
Hir lord was slayn, alas, he took no keepe!
Or he deide of Fortune he hath founde
A speris hed[e] to a tronchoun bounde,
Hymsilf defendyng in that mortal striff;
But slayn he was be tresoun of his wiff.
Aftir this moordre tescape fro daungeer,
This Rosamounde fledde awei be niht.
With hir went[e] Melchis hir squieer;
Took a ship, sailed be sterre-liht,
To Rauenne thei took the weie riht,
Lad with hem for refut & socour
Of kyng Alboyne al the hool tresour.
Aftir she was [I]weddid to Melchis,
Man of this world[e] stood most in hir grace.
Hir loue appallid, set of him no pris;
For she nat koude be content in o place.
Hir ioie was euere newe thing to purchace,
Tassaie manye, plesid neuer with oon,
Til bexperience she preuid hadde echon.
Prouost of Rauenne & cheef gouernour,
For thexcellence of hir gret beute
Aboue al women loued hir paramour,
Whan she entred first in that cite.
And thoruh hir fraude and duplicite

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She caste moordre in hir froward auys
Hir newe husbonde that callid was Melchis.
The hote somer in lusti fressh[e] May,
The same Melchis for heete & weerynesse
Hymsilff to bathe wente a certeyn day,
Kauht a gret thrust of feyntise in sothnesse.
And Rosamounde, of infernal falsnesse,
Took a goblet, with licour gret foisoun,
Gaf hym drynke wyn medlid with poisoun.
He drank up half, & therwithal he gan
Brest and beli to suelle & arise,
Intoxicat, wex dedli pale & wan;
And whan he dide hir tresoun aduertise,
He made hir drynke in the same wise,
Maugre hir wil, she myht it nat restreyne,—
Guerdoun for moordre,—thei deide bothe tweyne.
In this chapitle but litil frut I fynde,
Sauf onli this, to putte in remembraunce,
That men sholde calle ageyn to mynde,
Moordre affor God requereth ay vengaunce.
This funeral stori weied in ballaunce,
Wrouht be Melchis, compassid first & founde
Be fals tresoun of cursid Rosamounde.
Slouh first hir lord Albonivs, as I seide,
Tueyne of hir squieres did execusioun,
Out of his slepe whan he did abraide.
Lat countirpeise what was ther guerdoun:
Ech moordrid othir be drynkyng of poisoun;
Melchis drank first, & next drank Rosamounde;
At them it gan; to them it did rebounde.
Countirpeised o moordre for another:
Albonivs slayn be Rosamounde his wiff
Bassent of Melchis, & aftir ech to other
The poisoun partid; ther gan a fatal striff.
Moordre quit for moordre, thei bothe lost her lyff.
Who vseth falsnesse, ful weel afferme I dar,
Shal with falsnesse be quit or he be war.

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As thei departed, suich part ageyn þei took;
As men disserue, suich shal be ther meede.
This froward story, eende of the Eihte Book,
Of Rosamounde & Melchis wrought in deede,
For short conclusioun biddith men take heede,
Thei shal resceyue ageynward suich mesour
As thei mesure vnto ther neih[e]bour.