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

Whan Bochas hadde shewed his sentence,
And declared his opynyoun
Geyn hem that wer[e]n hasti off credence,
He gan anon make a digressioun
Fro that mater, and off entencioun
To serche out mo, his purpos to contune,
That were doun cast & hyndred bi Fortune.

And, as he thouhte, he sauh a cumpanye
Off many worthi, which to hym dede appeere;
And a-mong alle first he dede espie
Queen Althea, as she gan neihhe hym neere,
Al bedewed hir face and eek hir cheere
With salt[e] teris, that pite was to seene,
Which whilom was off Calidonye the queene.

She was the douhter off kyng Testius,
Weddid to Oene off Calidoyne kyng,
Off cheer and face apperyng ful pitous,
Hir her to-torn and frowardli liggyng;
And in tokne also off compleynyng,
As writ Bochas, wheroff he took [good] heed,
Blak was hir habite, and al to-rent hir weed.

A sone she hadde, Mell[e]ager he hihte;
In erthe was ther non fairere for to see,
Riht weel fauoured in eueri manys sihte;
And, as I fynde, at his natyuite
Present wern the Fatal Sustren thre
With ther rokke, and gan to spynne faste,
And took a brond and into fir it caste.

And in that hour this was her language:
“Touchyng this child, we ful accorded be,
And han disposid the terme eek off his age,

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The space concludid off his destyne,
As long[e] tyme, who-so list to see,
Til this brond among the coles rede
Be ful consumed into asshes dede.”

But whan Althea espied ther entente,
And conseyued the fyn off ther sentence,
She ros hire up, and the brond she hente
Out off the fir with gret dilligence,
Queynt anon the fires violence;
The doom off Parcas she gan thus disobeie,
The brond reseruyng vnder lok and keie.

Touchyng the fader off this Mell[e]ager,
Oeneus, off hym thus I reede,
How he wente and souhte nyh and fer
Goddis and goddessis, who-so list take heede,
In hope onli for to ha[ue] gret meede;
For to hem alle, poetis thus deuise,
Sauf to Diana, he dede sacrefise.

Wheroff she cauhte an indignacioun;
Caste she wolde on hym auengid be;
Sente a boor into his regioun,
Ful sauage and ful off cruelte,
Which deuoured the frut off many a tre
And destroied his cornys and his vynes,
That such scarsete off vitaile and off wynes

Was in his land vpon euery side,
That the peeple off necessite
Compellid wern a-mong hem to prouide
Sum mene weie to saue ther contre.
And at the laste thei condescendid be,
That Mell[e]ager, lusti off his corage,
Shold chese with hym folk fresh & yong off age,

This dreedful boor myhtili tenchace.
And foorth thei wente, echon deuoid off dreed,
With rounde speris thei gan hym to manace,
But Mell[e]ager made first his sides red,
And with a suerd[e] thanne smet off his hed;

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Wheroff the contre was ful glad & fayn,
And in this wise the tusshi boor was slayn.

Summe bookis telle off this huntyng,
That a ladi, which was born in Arge,
Callid Athalanta, douhter to the kyng,
To sle this boor took on hire the charge,
And with an arwe made his wounde large.
Eek in Ouide lik as it is founde,
Because that she gaff the firste wounde,

Mell[e]ager anon for a memorie,
As he that was hir owne chose knyht,
Gaff hir the hed in tokne off this victorie.
But his tweyne vncles, ageyn al skile & riht,
Rafft hir the hed, off verray force & myht,
Hauyng despiht that she, in ther auys,
Off this victorie sholde bere awey the prys.

With which iniurie Mell[e]ager was wroth,
And ageyn hem proudli gan disdeyne;
Pullith out a suerd and vpon hem he goth,
And thoruh his manhod slouh his vncles tweyne,
And afftir that dede his besi peyne
To take the hed, and with ful humble entente,
To Athalante ageyn it to presente.

On off his vncles was callid Flexippus,
A manli knyht, and but yong off age;
The tother brother named Thesyus.
But whan ther suster herde off this outrage,
How thei were slayn, she gan in hir visage
Wexe ded [&] pale, allas, for lak off blood,
Whan she espied the cause how it stood.

She hadde no mater, God wot, to be fayn,
Queen Althea, to stonden and beholde
Hir brethre tweyne off hir sone slayn
At the huntyng, off which toforn I tolde.
First thyngis too she gan peise & onfolde:

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Off hir brethre the loue and nyh kenrede,
And off hir sone the hasti cruel deede.

And remembryng, she castith in ballaunce,
Off hertli wo that she dede endure,
Thouhte yiff she dede vpon ther deth vengaunce,
To slen hir sone it were ageyn nature.
Thus in a weer longe [time] she dede endure,
Hir dedli sorwe peisyng euerideel,
Whethir she shal be tendre or cruel.

Thus tendre, I meene, hir sone for to spare,
Or punshe the deth off hir brethre tweyne.
Thus counfortles, al destitut and bare,
In langwisshyng shendureth foorth hir peyne;
And remedie can she non ordeyne,
Sauf fayn she wolde auenge hir, yiff she may,
But thanne cam nature foorth and seide nay.

It was hir sone, a-geyn al kyndli riht
On whom she caste auenged for to be:
To women alle an ougli straunge siht,
That a mooder, deuoid off al pite,
Sholde slen hir child so merciles parde.
Nay nay, nat so, nature wil nat assente;
For yiff she dede, ful sore she shal repente.

But O allas, al fatal purueiaunce
Kepith his cours, as summe clerkis seyn;
But the writyng off doctours, in substaunce,
And these dyuynes replie ther ageyn,
And afferme thoppynyoun is in veyn
Off hem that truste on fate or destyne:
For God aboue hath the souereynte,

And off Fortune the power may restreyne,
To saue and spille lik as folk disserue;
Ageyn his will thei may nothyng ordeyne
Off necessite, what cours that thei conserue.
But this mateer al hooli I reserue

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Onto deuynys to termyne and conclude,
Which apparteneth to no folkis rude.

But Althea, off Calidoyne queen,
Gan sore muse, and heeng in a ballaunce:
Hir brethre ded, whan she dede hem seen,
Thanne was she meued anon to do vengaunce
Vpon hir sone bi ful gret displesaunce;
But as poetis list for to compile,
Nature made hire withdrawe hir hand a while.

Thus atwen ire and twen affeccioun
She heeld hir longe, on nouther parti stable,
Till that she cauhte in hir opynyoun
A sodeyn rancour, which made hire be vengable;
And hasti wrathe, which is nat comendable,
Ageyn hir sone, maad hire with hir hond
Out off hire chest to take the fatal brond.

And sodenli she cast it in the fir,
And wex cruel, ageyn al womanheede,
To execute hir venymous desir.
The fatal brond among the flawmys rede
Consumed was into asshes dede;
And furiously in hir malencolie,
The vengaunce doon, thus she gan to crie:

“O ye Parchas, froward sustre thre,
Which off Ioue keepe the librarie,
And off childre at ther natyuyte
Waite his sentence, which [that] may nat varie,
Wherso it be welful or contrarie,
Vpon his doomys takyng alway heed,
How that ye shal dispose the fatal threed.

Thou Cloto first takest thi rokke on honde,
And Lachesis afftir doth begynne,

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Bi gret auys, who can vndirstonde,
The threed on lengthe to drawen & to spynne;
But whan the sperit shal fro the bodi twynne,
Thou Attropos doost thi cruel peyne
Ful frowardli to parte the threed on tweyne.

I may weel pleyne on such departisoun,
Nat for a day, but, o allas, for euere!
Ye han ontwynyd and maad dyuysioun
Off my too brethre, [and] causid hem disseuere,
That heer a-lyue I shal seen hem neuere.
And I off haste, allas, whi dede I so!
Tauenge ther deth ha[ue] slayn my sone also.

O ye thre douhtren off Herberus the felle,
Whos ougli mooder was the blake nyht,
Al your kynreede and lynage lith in helle;
And for tauenge the wrong and gret onriht
Which that I haue accomplisshid in your siht,
I will with you perpetueli compleyne,
Lich my desert endure sorwe & peyne!”

And whil she gan thus with hirself[e] stryue
Vpon hir sorwes, that were eend[e]les,
She made a suerd thoruhout hir herte ryue,
Off hir liff heer she was to rech[e]les.
And Bochas affter, amonges al the pres,
Sauh, as hym thouhte, with a ful hidous cheer,
Ded off visage, Hercules appeere,

Whos fader was Iubiter the grete,
His mooder douhter off kyng Amphitrion,
Callid Alcumena, whilom born in Crete.
And as poetis rehersyn oon bi oon,
So excellent was ther neuer noon,

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To speke off conquest, [of] victorie and [of] fame,
Heer in this world that hadde so gret a name.

Dreedful of look he was, and riht terrible,
His berd eek blak, which heeng ful lowe doun,
And al his her as bristlis wer horrible,
His robe also, ful merueilous off facioun,
Was off the skyn off a fers leoun,
Which [from his bake] of verray force he rente,
With-in a forest alone whan he wente.

In his hand he bar a maas off steel,
Which to beholde was wonder large & huge
Bi apperence, as Bochas felte weel;
Dempte off resoun, as a rihtful iuge,
That Hercules hadde to his refuge
Wisdam with force, for tencrece his fame,
Alle beestis wilde for to make hem tame.

And onto Bochas he gan loude crie,
“Tak riht good heed[e], for it is no fable,
I for my meritis, to speke off cheualrie
And noble triumphes, am most comendable,
To be preferrid most worthi and most hable,
Which haue accomplisshid al that may excelle
Thoruh hih prowesse, that any tunge can telle.

Eek off my berthe, in heuene ful yore ago
Fulli conceyued my constellacioun,
Mihti Ioue saide onto Iuno,
On such a day, in such a regioun,
Oon shal be born, most myhti off renoun,
Noblest off nobles bothe in werre and pes,
Off whom the name shal be Hercules.

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The which[e] doom whan Iuno vndirstood,
Off Iubiter conceyuyng the entente,
And knew my fate sholde be so good,
To Lucynya hir messager she sente.” . . .
But summe seyn, how doun hirselff she wente
To this goddesse, goddesse off childyng,
And hir besouhte to graunte hire hir askyng:

That she wolde from Hercules translate
The influence off his natyuyte,
Helpe to reuerse his fame and eek his fate,
And graunte it hooli to yong Euristee;
And that Lucynya present wolde be
The same hour bi Iubiter prouyded,
It to posseede al hool and ondeuyded.

Thus to the mooder off [this] Euristee,
Iuno the goddesse grauntid hir fauour,
Therbi disposyng that he sholde be
Mihti off puissaunce lik an emperour;
But off his noblesse the conquest & labour,
And off his manhod the prowesse and pursut
Bi Hercules was fully execut.

Thus Hercules hadde the trauaile,
And Euristeus bar awey the name;
Eek Hercules fauht in plate & maile,
And hih emprises proudli dede attame:
But the report off his noble fame
To Euristeus was fynali ascryued;
Thus off his thank was Hercules depryued.

Ful offte in armys sum man doth riht weel,
And offte causith that the feeld is wonne;
And off a-nother that dede neueradeel,
The price out-spredith lich a sheene sonne.
And offte it happith, that he that best hath ronne
Doth nat the spere lich his desert posseede,
Wher fals fauour yeueth eueri man his meede.

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Fame in hir paleis hath trumpes mo than oon,
Summe off gold that yeuen a ful fressh soun;
Sum man hath laude, that deserueth non,
And summe ha[ue] been ful worthi off renoun,
Nothyng preferrid bi comendacioun,
As bi report off statis hih and lowe,
So frowardli Famys trumpe hath blowe.

Touchyng armys, the poore nor the riche
Be nat echon off herte coragous;
Nor alle men may nat been iliche,
Nor off ther name egal nor gracious.
And thouh the poore ha[ue] be victorious,
Off auenture to do ful weel sum day,
Other ha[ue] pynchid to take his thank away.

Oon sleth the deer with an hokid arwe,
Whos part is non yit off the venysoun;
Oon bet the bussh, another hath the sparwe,
And alle the birdis in his possessioun;
Oon draweth his nettis in ryuers vp & doun,
With sundri baitis cast out lyne and hook,
And hath no part off al that euer he took.

An euidence heeroff ye may see,
Ful notable to be put in memorie,
Off Hercules and [of] Euristee;
For Hercules gat ay the victorie,
And Euristeus receyued hath the glorie.
Thus ther palme partid was on tweyne;
The ton reioisshid, the tother bar the peyne.

Euristeus was a prynce off Athene,
Sone and hair be discent off lyne
Onto the kyng that callid was Stillene,
Vnder whos myht, as Bochas doth termyne,
Hercules thoruh knyhtli disciplyne
Profitid so, most manli and most wis,
That from all othre he bar awey the pris.

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But O allas, that euer it sholde fall,
So noble a knyht, so manli, so notable,
That any spotte sholde his pris appall
Or cause his corage for to been onstable,
Which is a thyng doolful and lamentable,
From his knyhthod, which is a thyng to straunge,
That euer a woman sholde his herte chaunge!

I will excuse hem, because ther nature
Ys to chaungen hertis and corages;
A-geyn ther power no force may endure,
For ther flatrie and sugrid fair language,
Lich Sirenes, fressh off ther visage,
For tenchaunge off pryncis the noblesse,
Mo than Hercules can bern heeroff witnesse.

Thus Hercules, astoned and ashamed,
Onto Bochas shewed his presence,
Seide, “allas! my knyhthod is diffamed
Bi a ful fals amerous pestilence,
So sore constreyned bi mortal violence,
Wherbi, allas, my manhod was applied,
Be sleihte off women oppressid & maistried,

To take ther habite & clothe me in ther weede,
To shaue my berd and farse my visage
With oynementis, ageyn[es] al manheede,
To make it souple, & chaungid my language;
And to compleyne mor off myn outrage,
Vpon my fyngris, fyue twies told,
I hadde ryngis richeli wrouht off gold.

Thus was my corage chaungid femynyne
For loue off oon callid Yole,
Off condiciouns thouh she were serpentyne,
Me thouhte she was so fair vpon to see,
That al my ioie was with hire to be;
And that non sholde apparceyue my trespace,
I chaungid bothe habite, look and face,

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And was a woman outward in apparence,
Off entent to haue mor liberte
To vse my lustis, and haue experience
Off appetitis which that onleefful be.
Wheroff the sclaundre reboundeth onto me,
That I dar seyn, myn outragous trespace
Doth al my knyhthod & my prowesse difface.

Wherfore, O Bochas, I pray the tak good heede
For to descryue in termys pleyn and cleer
Myn infortunye, riht as it was in deede,
That whan other conceyue the maneer
Off myn onhappis, contagious for to heer,
Thei may bexaumple off me doon ther peyne,
From vicious liff ther hertis to restreyne.

For these foolis that al wisdam despise,
And be contrarie to vertuous disciplyne,
May yiue exaumple to folkis that be wise,
And been to hem a lanterne off doctryne,
Vices teschewe and prudentli declyne
Fro flesshli lustis; for it is tauht in scoolis,
That wise men been alday war be foolis.”

Whan Bochas hadde conceyued the compleynt
Off Hercules in his appeeryng,
And how his noblesse bi women was atteynt
Thoruh his pitous disordynat lyuyng,
He thouhte anon, hymselue remembryng,
It hadde be routhe for taput in mynde
His vicis alle, and vertues lefft behynde.

Considred also it was inpertynent,
Outher bi language to write, ageyn al riht,
Any thyng that sholde in sentement
The fame amenuse off so noble a knyht,
Or to discrece in ony manys siht
His glorious prowesse, sith poetes for his werris
Reisen his renoun so hih aboue the sterris.

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For he was bothe knyht and philisophre,
And for his strengthe callid a geaunt;
For comoun profit he proudli gan eek profre,
Off manli corage yaff therto ful graunt,
Tentre in Egipt & slen ther the tiraunt
Callid Busiris, which off ful fals entente
Slouh all straungers that thoruh his kyngdam wente.

For vnder a colour off liberalite,
To his paleis he gladli wolde calle
Straungers echon that cam thoruh his contre,
And sollempneli receyue hem oon and alle,
And lich a kyng, bothe in chaumbre and halle
Make hem such cheer in alle maner thyng,
As appertened onto a worthi kyng.

But whil his gestis lay a-nyht and sleep,
This fals[e] tiraunt, in ful cruel wise,
Moordred hem echon or thei toke keep;
And afftir that—this was eek his gise—
With ther blood to make a sacrefise
To Iubiter, god off that contre,
Off hool entent to plese his deite,

That in his kyngdam, on frutis & on greyn
The land tencrece bi gret[e] habundaunce,
Doun from heuene he wolde sende hem reyn.
This mene he made and this fals cheuysaunce,
To moordre and slen he hadde so gret plesaunce;
For off alle thynge hym thouhte it dede him good
To slayen straungers and to sheede ther blood.

But whan this moordre off Busiris was kouth,
That no straunger myht passe his lond in pes,
This manli knyht, yit flouryng in his youth,
This noble famous, this worthi Hercules,
Amonges other put hymsilff in pres,
And lich a gest outward in shewyng
Cam to the paleis off Busiris the kyng,

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Rebuked hym off his gret outrage
Doon to his gestis bi cruel violence.
And for to make pesible that passage,
And for to auenge his inportable offence,
And off his moordre to make recompence,
This Hercules slouh Busiris in deede,
And took the blood which he dede bleede,

Offrid it vp Iubiter to plese,
For this victorie hym to magnefie;
And al Egipt thus was set in ese:
Ther lond, ther frutis gan also multeplie,
Ther greyn encrece a-boute on ech partie
And to habounde bi influence off reyn,
Which affortyme off vitaile was bareyn.

Another geaunt callid Antheus,
Kyng off Libie, and gouerned al that lond,
Whom Hercules, most strong & coraious,
Whilom outraied [&] slouh hym with his hond;
For as thei wrastlid, bexperience he fond,
Touchyng therthe this geaunt, it is trewe,
His force, his myht dede alwey renewe.

But whan Hercules the maner dede espie,
How his strengthe renewed ageyn so offte,
Ther ageyns he shoop a remedie:
Hie in the hair he reised hym vp a-loffte;
And with his armys, hard & nothyng soffte,
Bak and bonys so sore he dede enbrace,
That he fill ded toforn hym in the place.

But summe bookis off this geaunt telle,
Withynne his kyngdam who dede hym assaile,
He wolde off newe his cheualrie compelle
Efft ageyn to meete hym in bataile;
And in this wise ful seelde he dede faile
Tafforce off newe, as folk shal vndirstonde,
His strengthe, his myht al enmyes to withstonde.

But Hercules off hih discrecioun,
The feeld on hym manli to recure,
Hadde hym be sleihte out off his regioun;
And as thei mette theer off auenture,
The said Antheus myht[e] nat endure,

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But was disconfited bi Hercules anon,
Maugre his myht, he and his men echon.

Afftir this conquest Hercules is gon,
For exercise his prowesse for to vse,
Ageyn the myhti stronge Gerion,
Kyng off Spaigne, off Malliagre & Ebuse,
The which[e] tirant myhte hym nat excuse,
That al his labour, as poetis do compile,
Was fro these rewmys his peeple to exile.

His tirannye ne myht nat longe endure;
For Hercules, the noble worthi knyht,
Made vpon hym a gret disconfiture,
And slouh the tirant as thei mette in fiht.
And afftir that, he, thoruh his grete myht,
Off his prowesse and magnanymyte
Slouh Cerberus with his hedis thre.

The famous boole off the lond off Crete,
Which that destroied al that regioun,
He slouh also whan thei dede meete;
And in Nemea he slouh a fers leoun,
And for a record off his hih renoun,
Off manli force his skyn away he took,
And to his bodi a coote theroff he shoop:

To all his enmyes to shewe hym mor dreedful,
Therfore he werid that hidous garnement.
And for in armys he neuer was founde dull,
But euer ilich[e] fressh in his entent,
Into a mounteyn he made anon his went,
Callid Erimantus; and ther in his passage
He slouh a boor, most wilde & most sauage.

Beside a ryuer callid Stiphalus,
Off furious birdis he slouh a gret[e] noumbre;
Withynne the kyngdam off kyng Fyneus
Al the contre for thei dede encoumbre:
For with ther shadwe & outraious oumbre,
On seed or frutis whereuer thei aliht,
Al was deuoured in eueri manys siht.

Vpon the mounteyn callid Auentyne,
Which is nat ferr fro Rome the cite,
Ther is a wode, as cronycles determyne,

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Riht fressh off siht and goodli on to see.
And Hercules passyng bi that contre,
Fro Spayneward goyng be Ytaile,
Cachus the geaunt dede hym ther assaile.

Whil Hercules among the leues greene
Leide hym to slepe, off sodeyn auenture,
And his beestis ageyn the sonne sheene,
Whil that he slepte, wente in ther pasture,
Cam Cachus foorth, ful hidous off stature,
Thouhte he wolde these beestis with hym haue,
Stal hem echon and hid hem in a caue.

And lik a theeff he made hem go bakward,
That no man sholde the tracis off hem knowe,
Nor off ther passage haue no reward;
For bi ther tailis he ladde hem on a rowe
Into his caue, which that stood ful lowe.
And for thei wern off excellent fairnesse,
To keepe hem cloos he dede his besynesse.

Out off his slep whan Hercules awook
And aparceyued his oxes were away,
He roos hym up, and caste aboute his look,
Gan tespie in al the haste he may
To what parti the tracis off hem lay.
And whil he stood thus musyng in the shade,
[He] herde lowyng that his oxes made.

And bi ther lowyng he gan anon approche
Toward the parti wher thei were kept ful cloos,
Fond the caue vndir a myhti roche;
And proude Cachus, which hadde hem in depoos,
Geyn Hercules he sturdili aroos:
But for al that, he myht hymsilff nat saue,
For he hym slouh at thentre off the caue.

And thus his beestis he hath ageyn recurid,
That sempte afforn irrecuperable.
Afftir the mounteyn be force he hath assurid,

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Which for brigantis aforn was ful doutable;
But bi his manhod it was maad habitable,
That men myhte, for dreed off any fo,
Whan euer thei wolde freli come or go.

Touchyng his conquest vpon Femynye,
Geyn Amazones with Theseus he wente,
The queen Ypolita thoruh his cheualrie,
For his parti anon to hym he hente.
And Ypolita off ful trewe entente
Gaff onto hym in tokne off victorie
Off gold a girdil to haue hir in memorie.

Afftir to Affrik he wente a ful gret pas,
Onli off purpos the gardeyn for to see,
Which appertened to [the] kyng Athlas,
That brothir was to kyng Promothe,
In astrologie ful weel expert was he.
And in this gardeyn, off which I ha[ue] you told,
The riche braunchis and applis were off gold,

Thoruh magik maad bi gret auisement,
Ful streihtly kept and closid enviroun,
And Iwachchid with a fell serpent,
That no man entred that riche mansioun.
But Hercules, most myhti off renoun,
The serpent slouh throuh his manli pursuit,
And fro that gardeyn he bar awey the fruit.

This seid Athlas, as bookis specefie,
And poetis eek off hym endite,
He was ful cunnyng in astronomie
And theryn dede ful gretli hym delite;
And many a book he made & dede write
With gret labour and gret[e] dilligence
In his tyme vpon that science,

The which[e] wern mor precious than gold,
And mor riche in his opynyoun.
But Hercules, in soth as it is told,

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Gat alle the bookis thoruh his hih renoun,
Bar hem bi force out off that regioun;
And into Grece, lich a conquerour,
With hym he brouhte for a gret tresour.

Off Trace he slouh the tirant outraious
That whilom was callid Diomede,
Which moordred al that cam in[to] his hous,
And with ther flessh his hors he dede feede.
And thoruh his witt, labour and manheede,
Off Achelaus, which was a gret[e] wonder,
He made the stremys for to parte assonder;

And bi his wisdam dede hem so deuide,
In too parties disseueryng his passage:
For tofortyme no man myhte abide
Off his cours the furious fell outrage;
For in contrees it dede so gret damage,
Turnyng vpward, ther was noon othir boote,
Where it flowed, off trees cropp and roote.

A gret emprise he dede eek vndirtake,
Whan that the [wor]mees, hidous & horrible,
Aryued up off Archadie in the lake
Callid Lerne, the beestis ful odible,
Which with ther teeth & mouthes ful terrible
Frut, greyn and corn dede mortali deuoure;
But Hercules, the contre to socoure,

Cam lik a knyht ther malice for to lette;
And bi his prudence destroied hem euerichon.
Withynne the lake the wermys up he shette,
Sauff among alle behynde was lefft on;
And ageyn hym this Hercules anon
Off knyhthod cauhte so gret auauntage,
That to the contre he dede no mor damage.

Thus al that euere may rehersed be
Touchyng knyhthod, prowesse or prudence,
Glorious fame or long felicite,
This knyhtli man hadde most excellence,
And in armys lengest experience.

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For his tryumphes and actis marciall
Sette up pilers for a memoriall,

Which remembrid his conquestis most notable,
And his deedis bi grauyng dede expresse—
Beyonde which no lond is habitable,
So ferr abrod spradde his hih noblesse.
But as the sonne lesith his brihtnesse
Sumwhile whan he is fresshest in his speer,
With onwar cloudis that sodenli appeer,

Semblabli the noblesse and the glory
Off Hercules in this onstable liff
Eclipsid was and shadwid his memory
Bi Deianira, that whilom was his wiff:
For bi hir fraude cam in the mortal striff,
As ye shal heere the maner and the cas,
Wherbi that he loste his liff, allas.

Yit for hir sake, this most manli man
Fauht, as I fynde, a synguler bataile
With Achelous, sone off the occian,
Lik as poetis make rehersaile.
And as ech other proudli dede assaile,
This Hercules, off knyhthod souereyne,
Rente from his hed oon off his hornys tweyne.

Off kyng Oene she was the douhter deere,
To Hercules ioyned in mariage;
And as thei cam to a gret ryuere
With sturdi wawes, wher was no passage,
Nessus, the geaunt, ougli off visage,
To Hercules profred his seruise,
And ful falsli ageyn hym gan deuise.

Made his promys to Hercules in deede,
To putte his liff in gret auenture,
Ouer the strem Deianire to leede,
Because he was large off his stature.
And for she was a riht fair creature,
Whan thei were passid and Icome to londe,
Nessus falsli wolde vpon the stronde

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Ha[ue] knowe hir flesshli, lik as writ Ouide,
Hercules hauyng theroff a siht,
As he abood vpon the tother side.
And for tauenge hym off his grete onriht,
Took his bowe and bente it anon riht,
And with an arwe, filid sharp & grounde,
Gaff to Nessus his dedli fatal wounde.

Lich a conduit gusshed out the blood,
And whan he sauh that he muste deie,
To Deianire afforn hym ther she stood,
With al his herte hire he gan to preie,
That in o thyng his lust she wolde obeie,
To take his sherte, and be nat rech[e]les,
With blood disteyned, and sende it Hercules,

Therwith to hym to be reconcilid.
And she the sherte to hym anon hath sent,
Thoruh whos venym, allas, he was begilid!
For what be touchyng, & what benchauntement,
His flessh, his bonys furiousli were brent,
And among his dedli peynes alle,
Into a rage he sodenli is falle.

[And] as a beeste furiousli he ran
On valis, hillis among the craggi stonys,
Semblabli as doth a wood[e] man,
Pullid up trees & rootis al attonys,
Brak beestis hornys, & al tognew ther bonys.
Was it nat pite that a knyht so good
Sholde among beestis renne sauagyne & wood!

Thus ouerwhelmyd was al his worthynesse,
And to declyn wente his prosperite.
And cause & roote off al his wrechidnesse,
Was for that he sette his felicite
To truste so moche the mutabilite
Off these women, which erli, late & soone
Off ther nature braide vpon the moone.

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Allas, allas! al noblesse & prudence,
Prowesse off armys, force & cheualrie,
Forsihte off wisdam, discrecioun & science,
Vertuous studie, profityng in clergie,
And the cleer shynyng off philosophie,
Hath thoruh fals lustis been heeraforn manacid,
Be sleihte off women dirkid and diffacid!

O Hercules, my penne I feele quake,
Myn ynke fulfillid off bittir teris salte,
Thi[s] pitous tragedie to write for thi sake,
Whom alle poetis glorefie and exalte;
But fraude off women made thi renoun halte,
And froward muses thi tryumphes al toreende,
For to descryue, allas, thi fatal eende.