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

Whan Bochas hadde rehersid of poetis,
Ther straunge studie & ther soleyn writyngis,
And ther desirs of solitarie seetis,
In plesaunt placis to make ther duellyngis,
Beside ryuers & holsum welle spryngis,
Which acomplisshed, he gan his penne auaunce,
Pryncis off Affrik to putte in remembraunce.

And whil he dede his besi dilligence
Ther pitous fallis to putte in memorie,
First ther cam tweyne vnto his presence,
Ther old noblesse appallid & ther glorie,
Which, as hym sempte, withyne a teritorie
O[f] Affrik boundis, longyng to Cartage,
Dide first appeere, most dedli of visage.

The ton of hem was named Malleus,
Duk of Cartage, of Affrik lord and sire.
His sone also callid Cartalus,
Whilom cheef prince & bisshop eek of Tire.
But Malleus, which heeld the gret empire
Of al Affrik, for his pompous outrage
Exilled was for euere out of Cartage.

Which caused hym in herte he was nat murye,
But ay remembrid upon his fel banshyng,
Gadred his peeple withynne the lond of Surrye,
And in the feeld, whil he lay hosteieng,
Cast hym fulli to make no tarieng,
But in al haste, of knihtli fel corage,
Maugre his enmyes resorte onto Cartage.

438

Tauenge his exil his herte was set affire,
And his entent[e] mor to fortefie,
He sente in haste his lettres doun to Tire,
To Cartalus, that he sholde hym hie,
And brynge with hym al the cheualrie
Of his cite, in steel armyd cleene,
His fadres parti to holde up and susteene.

But whan this bisshop knew hooli the maneer
Of this purpos, which ye han herd deuise,
He considred how that tyme of the yeer
Ordeyned was to do sacrefise,
Aftir the rihtis of ther paynym wise,
To Hercules, which in that cite
Aboue al goddis hadde the souereynte.

Whos feeste was holde space of certeyn daies,
Which for to halwe he needis must entende,
And bi the custum make no dellaies,
But that he muste therto condescende.
And leuer he hadde his fader to offende,
As in swich caas, than thoruh neccligence
Vnto his goddis for to doon offence.

Wherof his fader hadde indignacioun,
The caas arettyng to vnkyndenesse,
And therof kauhte a gret occasioun
Ageyn his sone, of froward wilfulnesse:
For princis ofte, of furious hastynesse,
Wil cachche a qu[a]rel, causeles in sentence,
Ageyn folk absent, thouh ther be non offence.

And summe tunges venymous of nature,
Whan thei parceyue that a prince is mevid,
Tagregge his ire do ther besi cure,
With fals langage to maken hym mor grevid.
But ther is no poisoun so weel expert nor previd
As is of tunges the hatful violence,
Namli whan princis list yiue hem audience.

The feeste acomplisshed of myhti Hercules,
Al innocent of double or fals meenyng,
The said[e] bisshop, of wil nat rek[e]les,

439

Kam to his fader withoute mor tarieng,
Chaungid nouther habit nor clothyng,
With al thensignes, & in the same wise
As he toforn hadde doon his sacrefise.

Anon his fader made no delay,
Withoute excus, it wolde be no bet,
Of hasti rancour, the silue same day
Maad hym been hangid upon an hih gibet.
Lawe an[d] iustise wer bothe aside set,
And tiranye, most furious & wood,
To do vengaunce in trouthis place stood.

Who can or may tirauntes wil descryue,
Whos marcial suerdis be whet ay for vengaunce?
Ther bloodi thrustis doth thoruh ther hertes ryue,
Ther eris ay open to heere of sum myschaunce,
Ther furious merthe, ther mortal wood plesaunce,
Ther pale smylyng, ther lauhtre of fals hatreede,
Concludeth euere upon sum cruel deede.

Thei been mynistris to Parchas sustren thre,
Tuntwyne the threedis of folkis heer mortall,
And verray cosyns, thoruh hasti cruelte,
Vnto the woode Furies infernall,
Children to Pluto, of vengaunce marciall,
Which for ther vices, but thei bere hem weel,
Shal tourne in helle on Ixiones wheel.

Thus Malleus, fader most vnkynde,
Lik swich a tirant shad out his cruelte,
As ye han herd; and aftir, as I fynde,
Of furious herte and of old enmyte,
Be force is entrid Cartage the cite,
And slouh al tho in his hatful ire,
That hym afforn had exiled into Tire.

Wrouhte aftir wil and nothyng aftir riht,
Gan robbe and spoille that noble famous toun,
Which made hym hatid in the peeplis siht
For his outrage and gret extorsioun,
Hauyng no ioie nor consolacioun

440

Withynne his herte, pleynli, nor gladnesse,
Sauf lik a tiraunt the peeple to oppresse.

The peeple of Cartage sore gan to pleyne
Vpon ther mischeeff and desolacioun.
And Bochas writ, rehersyng in certeyne,
Wil is a stepmooder of witt & of resoun;
And wher that princis ha[ue] domynacioun,
And bi fals pillage to richesse clymbe up faste,—
Trusteth riht weel, ther lordshipe may nat laste.

Ther grete poweer of worldli excellence,
Nor ther acrochyng of temporal richesse,
Whan thei be tirauntes, may stonde in no diffence,
And froward wil[le] reuleth ther hihnesse.
For what is lordshipe, pleynli to expresse,
In this world heer, yif it be discernid?—
Loue of the peeple whan thei be weel gouernid.

For tirannye and fals oppressioun
Causeth princis to stonde in gret hatreede.
And what is worth ther domynacioun,
Withoute loue lat preue it at a neede?
Men for a tyme may suffre hem weel & dreede;
But whan that dreed constreyned is & goone,
Than is a prince but a man allone.

Seeth an exaumple how Malleus of Cartage,
For al his castellis & tour[e]s maad of stonis,
For his oppressioun, vengaunce and outrage,
The peeple of Affrik ros on hym al attonys,
And hew assonder his flessh & eek his bonys,
Caste hem pleynli, on hym thei wer so wood,
Vnto ther goddis to offren up his blood.

The peeple dempte, of mortal cruelte,
Ther was non offryng so plesaunt nor couenable
Vnto ther goddis to plese ther deite,
As blood of tirantes, which that be vengable.
Thus cruel princis make the peeple vnstable
Of necessite, which ouhte be compleyned,
To wreke ther wrongis that thei be constreyned.

441

Loo, heer the eende of Malleus the tiraunt,
Which doth to princis ful weel exemplefie,
To God aboue how it is nat plesaunt
Them to delite in no swich robberie,
Nor pile the peeple be no fals tirannye,
Nor for no talis be hasti of vengaunce;
For al swich thyng to God is displesaunce.