University of Virginia Library

Envy, þat Euermore ertis to skathe,
Ryxles full Ryfe in her ranke hertes.
This forward was festynit with a felle wille,
And all the purpos plainly with pouer to wende.
Hit betid þus in tyme, as I telle shall,
When sit was [the] Sun þese signes betwene,
Entred in yades, efter as it fell;
And the planet of pliades, with his playn course,
Into taure was turnyt as the tyme asket.
In the moneth of May, when medoes bene grene,
And all florisshet with floures þe fildes aboute;
Burions of bowes brethit full swete,
fflorisshet full faire; frutes were kuyt;
Greuys were grene, & þe ground hilde;
Hit was likyng in Laundys ledys to walke;
Parys the pert knight, And his pure brother,
Comyn vnto courtte with company grete,
Of thre thowsaund þro knightes, þriuand in Armys;
The pruddist of payone, prise men of honde.
Shippes were shot furth on the shyre water,
All boune on the brode see, with botys amonge.
To nem you the mowmber naytely be tale,
There were twenty and too, to twyn hom in sonder,
Stithe shippes & stoure stuffet with vitell,
All full vpon flote with fyne pepull in.
The kyng comaund to come, & cald hym anon,
Antenor alstite, and Aunteros Eneas,
And Polidamos prist,—a full pert knight,
Antenor Aune son, aldist of yeris;
Bade hom buske & be boun & no bode make,
To pas furthe with parys & hor prise knightes,
Bowne on hor best wise in hor bright wedis.
And þai grauntid the grete with a glad chere,
And shope hom to ship in a sharpe haste.
All the pepull to appere Pryam comaundit,
That were purpast to pas on the pale stremys,
And wightly thies wordes warpit hom to,
With a Sembland full sad, er he ses wold:—
“Hit nedys not now our noyes to telle,
Ne mony wordes to warpe, for it is well knowen.
All wete ye my wille why ye wend shall,
The Grekes for to grefe, if your grace happe,
And harme with your hond, þat our hede slogh;
To venge of our velany, & our vile grem
And hardlaike we hade of hom in þis londe:
And most is my mynde, & I might haue,
My Sister Exiona fro seruage to brynge.
That shalbe choisly your charge: chefe & ye may
With all your mightes to mene, & most to pursew
On hom þat hir holdis, & vs harme dyd.
Wetys hit all wele: with outen any cause
Þat þe dayens you derit, & to drede broght;
And for Redur & ranke harme of vnright dedis,
We may tyre vs with truthe to tene hom agayne,
And wreke vs of wrathe & wranges before.
I bid you now barly with besines at all,
Þat ye set you most souerainly my suster to gete.
Now is tyme most tore to tente þere aboute,
And to aunter on our Enmys with armes in werre,
Our Knighthode to Kythe, & our clene strenght;
And mene vs with monhode maistry to wyn.
Wetis all wele: & you wont oght,
Or any case to you come comford to haue,
To be suppoueld by selfe & my sad helpe.
And if it falle you be fortune to forther your wille,
My Syster to sese, or any sure lady,
Ye haue shall my helpe & my hole strenght,
To pas with a power to þaire playne londys,
Þat all the dayens vs doute shall for our derfe strokes,
And be war vs to wrathe to þe worldes end.
Prinse of þis pouer Parys shalbe,
And leder of these ledys & the lefe pepull;
And Deffebus, my dere son, I dem hym þe next;
With counsell & comford of clene men of wit,—
Of Antenor, & Eneas, & other full noble,
Þat fare shall in fere & feliship to gedur.”
When the Kyng hade declarit all his clene wille,
Than entrid the oste evyn into shippe.
Paris with pyne, & his pure brother,
Toke leue at þere lege with loutyng & teris;
Shot into ship with shene men of Armys;
Lauset loupis fro the le; lachyn in Ancres;
Brode sailes vp braid; bonkis þai leuyt.
With Jono, the Juste god Joynet to þe see,
And Venus the worthy, þat hom well plesit,
Thay sailed furth soundly with seasonable wyndes,
Tyll þai comyn of the cost of Caucleda in spase:—
Of the regione of Rene, & rode þere in havyn.
Gayn vnto Grese on þe gray water,
By the Regions of Rene rode þai ferre,
Streit by the stremys of the stithe londys;
Ay boun to the banke, when hom best thoght,
ffor to light on þe londe, & leng on hor ese.
Now it felle hom by fortune, as þai fere so,
Monolay for to mete, the mightiest of Grese,
Come sayland by syde & the see held;
Purpost vnto Pyle by prayer of Nestor,
To solas hym a season, & soiourne with the Duke.
This Menelay, þat I mene, the mighty before,
To Agamenon the graithe was a gay brother;
And had weddit, I wis, & to wif held
Elan, þat afturward angert hym sore.
Of hir feirehede & feturs is ferly to here,
I shall telle you, when I tyme haue, tomly heraftur.
Ho was suster for sothe, as I said ere,
To Pollux the pert kyng, & his pere Castor,
Þat soiournet the same tyme at the Cite Emscor,
As legis in hor owne londes, a louely hom with,—
Ermonia, a Maydon þat þai moche louyt,—
A doghter full dere of dame Elan the quene.
When the Grekes se the grete nauy, þai girdon o rowme,
And meuyt fro þere metyng at the mene tyme.
Nawther company by course hade Kennyng of other,
But past to þere purpos & no prise made,
And sailet vpon syde vnto sere costys.
Parys and his pepull past by the stremys,
Hadyn wynd at hor wille, & the wedur calme,
And sailet to Sithera, and set into hauyn;
A ground of the Grekes, as hom grase felle,
And now cald is, by course, of hom þat costes hauntyn,
Sytrinos forsothe, with Sailers to nome.
There arofe all the rowte, as þai rede toke,
And halit into hauyn, & houyt full stille;
Caste ancres full kene with cables to grounde;
ffestonit the flete, as hom fayre thoght;
Buskys into botys, were borne to þe lond,
To solas hom a season, as hom selfe liked;
And waited vppon hor wirdes for wynnyng of godys.
In Sythera, for sothe, was a solempne tempull,
Of Venus, I wis, þat worthy was holdyn,
ffoundet before, fele yeres past,
And enabit of old þere auntres were sene.
With Riches full Rife & myche Ranke godys,
The yle well enabit & onest with in,
And lyuet after law of þe lell gentils,
Þat Venus the worthy worshippit for god,
And most honouret of other with onesté þere.
There auntered hom oft, onsware to haue,
When þai put hom with prayer þat prise for to seche.
Thus tyd hit þat tyme, as I telle wille,
Þat the principall & prise fest of þere pure goddys
Was holdyn þo high dayes with hom þat þere dwelt;
And other folke vpon fer fell thedur thicke,
With mykull prese of pepull of prouynce aboute,
Soght to þat solenité sacrifis to make.
Worthy wemen to wale, wete ye forsothe,
Þat prist are of pilgrymes to pas ouer lond
To waite after wondres, & wilfull desyre
More Janglyng of Japes þen any Juste werkes,
And for solas & sight þen sacrifice to do.
When parys persayuit had the pepull anon,
He cacchis a compony clenely arayed,
And to the tempull full tyte toke he þe gate.
ffull mylde on his maner meuit within.
On a side he hym set, as semyt for a straungior,
In prayers full prist the pepull beheld.
He offert onestly in honour of Venus,
A gobet of gold, þat gyngys might se;
And sylid for-sothe on the same wise,
ffor solempnite of sacrifice in sight of þe pepull.
Paris was pure faire, & plesaund in sight,
A store man & a stoute, full stithe hym be semyt;
ffairest be ferre of his fre buernes,
Wemen waited hym well, hade wondur of hym one,
That of shap for to shew was shene to beholde,
And clad as a kyng in clothys full fyne.
He was louyt with ladys, lappit in hert.
As course is of kynd & comyn dessire,
Ich on fraynet at his fere þe frekys to know,
Of what lond were þo louely hit list hom to wete,
And prinsipall of Parys the pepull dessiret,
Of þat comly to Ken, & his cause here.
And o sithen it was said, & for sothe tolde,
That Parys was Pryam son, þat prinse is of Troy,
By comaundement of his kyng comyn into Grese,
With a company clene his cosyn to gete.
Exiona sothely he soght for to haue,
That Telamon hade takon & with tene held,
And set vnder seruage þat hom sore greuyt.
This speche furth sprede & sprange vppo ferre,
Ouer all into yles, so aunter befelle,
Into the Eres of Elan hit entrid belyue.
The prishede of parys was praisit so mekyll,
With ferly of his fairnes, & his fre buernes,
Sho was lappit in longyng þat louely to se,
And to wete of þat worthy with wilfull desyre.
As wemen are wount in Wantonhede yet,
With a likyng full light in loue for to falle,
That hetys into hertys and hurtes sone after;
So longid this lady with lust to the Temple,
With Sacrafice solempne to seche vnto Venus.
This ho tolde hir entent, as þe tyme asket,
And to stare o þo stoute, & hir astate shewe
To the folke of the frigie with a ffrike wille:
Holdur þen holynes happont so then.

THE POIET.

Hit is wondur to wit of wemen dissyre,
Þat shunt not for shame to shake ouer lande,
To glogh vppon gomes at gedering of folke,
And prese vnto playes pepull to beholde,
Þat ledis vnto loue with lustes þat folowes.
Yong men & yepe, yenerus in hert,
Rauisshe hom Radly & þaire rede turnys;
Puttes hom to purpos þat pynes hom after.
Soche stirrynges ger stumble, þat stidfast wold be.
With sight at assemblis, & sythen with speche,
With flatery, & faire wordys fallyn to gedur,
Acoyntyng hom with kissyng & clippyng in Armes,
With Sossyngs, & Sotelte, Settyng of cases,
The willes of wemen wightly þai chaunge,
To falle vpon foly & hor fame lose:
Now fey be þe freike þat it first ordant.
Soche Riot & Revell so ryuely to haunt,
Of yonge men & yenerus, þat yurnes to gaumes
To daunse amonge damsels; drawing of glovis,
With comonyng in company, þat comes but to harme,
Gers maidnes be mart, mariage for done;
Brynges wyues into wondur þaire worship to lose;
And ertes ay to euyll ende & ernyst by the last.
Throgh whiche treason betydes, & ternys vmqwhile
Bolde men to batell and biker with hond:
Þat draghes vnto dethe, & deris full mony.
Therfore saintes to seche and to sere halowes,
And turne vnto Templis atyrit with pride,
Þof it be laifull to ladys and oþer les wemen,
Ȝet it ledis vnto laithnes and vnlefe werkes;
And shotis into shame as shene has ben ofte.
But þou Elan, þat haldyn was hede of all ladys,
And the fairest of feturs formyt in erthe,
What wrixlit þi wit & þi wille chaunget,
In absens of þi souerayne, for saghes of pepull,
To pas of þi palays & þi prise chamber,
To loke on any lede of a londe straunge?
Þat might faire haue refraynit with þi fre wille;
Haue sauyt thy septur & þi selfe alse.
Hade þou holdyn þe at home, hedit þin astate,
And not cayret fro court þere company was gedurt,
To waite aftur wondurs for a worde light.
Hit were sittyng for sothe, & semly for wemen,
Þaire houses to haunt & holde hom with in;
Kepe hom from company & comonyng of folke;
And, ouer all, þere onesty attell to saue,
Whethir a ship, þat is shot on þe shire wawes,
Shuld drowne in the depe, & it drye stode,
Halyt into havyn, harlit with ropes.
Ne a woman, I wis, þat wisely will gouerne,
Shall not into fame but of hir fre wille.
Thou dissyret full depely, dame Elan, þi seluon
To pas fro þi palis & þi priuey chamber,
And seche to Sytheria with solempne Avowe;
In colour of þi cause þou couet to se
Þat straunge, þat was stoute & stare hym vppon;
So þou light in vnlefulnes, þat lefully semyt,
Thurgh þi Licrus lust þat Lurkit in þi hert.
ffor þe sight of þat semely, sotheli, was venum,
Þat enfecte þi faire loue to þe fairist of Grise,
And mony Greke with grem vnto grounde broght
All the frigies vnfaire vnder fight endit.
Now furder how it felle I will faire telle.—

Sho assemblid hir seruandes with a sad wille,
Hade hom radly arayed for þe rode furth;
Bryng horses to grounde and hernes anon,
To seche to Sitheria for solempne avowe;
And Venus to worship, as hir wele awe,
As ho heghly hade het for helping before.
This Sitheria, for sothe, from þe same yle
Of Menelay þe mighty was but a mene spas,
And he souerain hym selfe & þe soile aght.
Tite, with outyn tariyng, atirit were all,
Horses in haste & to hond brought;
The lady full louely was lifte vppon on,
A palfray of prise, prudly atyrit,
And glod on full gayly, þe gaynist to the bonke.
There light þai full lyfely, lept into bote,
And were set ouer soundly into the same yle
Right with a Rother, and Rayket to bonke.
In hir atire to þe tempull tomly ho yode,
Þere onestly sho offert, honourt hir goddes
With giftes of golde & of gode stones;
Tariet in the tempull, tentit to goumes;
Ho segh not þat semly, þen set hir to ground
And proffert hir prayers to þe prise goddes.
These tythandes full titely told were to Parys,
Þat honerable elan was entrid in þe tempull,—
Menelay mody wife þat he most louyt.
He araiet hym full riolly with a route noble,
And past thurgh þe prese into þe proud tempull.
He was enformyt before of þat fre lady,
Þat ho to Castor þe kyng accounttid was euon,
And to Pollux: pure suster pristly to bothe.
Of hir fairehede feltymes hade þe freike herd.
ffro he þe semly hade sene he set so his egh,
He proffert no prayer to no prise goddis,
Ne hedyt noght hertely but þe hend lady;
Ne no lede on to loke saue lelly hir one.

THE FAIRNES OF ELAN.

All the feturs of þat fre was fourmyt so well,
And ho of fairnes so fele was ferly to se.
The here of hir hede, huyt as the gold,
Bost out vppon brede bright on to loke:
The shede þurghe the shyre here shone as þe lilly,
Streght as a strike, straght þurgh the myddes,
Depertid the proudfall pertly in two,
Atiret in tressis trusset full faire.
Hir forhed full fresshe & fre to be-holde,
Quitter to qweme þen þe white snaw,
Nouþer lynes ne lerkes but full lell streght;
With browes full brent, brightist of hewe,
Semyt as þai set were sotely with honde,
Comyng in Compas, & in course Rounde,
ffull metly made & mesured betwene,
Bright as the brent gold enbowet þai were.
Hir ene wull full onest euyn of a mesure,
Shynyng full shene as þe shire sternys,
Or any staring stone þat stithe is of vertue;
ffull sutelly set, Serklyt with heris
On the browes so bryght, borduret full clene,
Stondyng full stepe and stable of chere.
Hir nose for the nonest was nobly shapyn,
Stondyng full streght & not of stor lenght,
Ne to short for to shew in a shene mesure;
Noght growen to grete ne to grefe smalle;
With thrilles noght thrat but thriftily made,—
Nawther to wyde ne to wan, but as hom well semyt.
Hir chekes full choise, as the chalke white,
As the rose, was the rud þat raiked hom in,—
Mengit with mesure in hir mylde face
To the lippus full luffly, as by lyn wroght,
Made of a meane vmb þe mowthe swete,
As it were coruyn by crafte, colourd with honde,
Proporcionet pertly with painteres deuyse.
To telle of hir tethe þat tryetly were set,
Alse qwyte & qwem as any qwalle bon;
Wele cumpast in cours & clenly to gedur
By rule in þe rede gomys, as a rose faire,
Þat with lefes of þe lylly were lappit by twene.
Hir chyn full choise was the chekys benethe,
With a dympull full derne, daynté to se.
In the hew of þat hend was a hegh ioye
Of faiernes so fele in hir face shewide.
The slote of hir slegh brest sleght for to showe,
As any cristall clere, þat clene was of hewe,
Shene for to shew & of shap noble.
With a necke for þe nonest of naturs deuyse,
Glissonand as the glemes þat glenttes of þe snaw;
Nawþer fulsom, ne fat, but fetis & round,
ffull metely made of a meane lenght.
With shulders full shaply, shenest of hewe,
ffull pleasaund & playn, with a plase lawe
Goyng downe as a goter fro the gorge euyn.
Hir armys were auenaund & abill of shap,
Large of a lenght, louely to shewe.
Hir hondes fetis & faire, with fingurs full small,
With nailes at the neþer endes as a nepe white.
The brede of hir brest, bright on to loke,
Was pleasaund & playne pluttide a litull,
ffresshe and of fyne hew as þe fome clere:
With two propur pappes, as a peire rounde,
ffetis and faire, of fauour full swete.
Hir corse [was] comly & of clene shap,
Euyn metely made of a medill deuyse,
As nobly to þe nethur-most as nature cold shape.
Parys stode in a stody & streght on hir lokit,
ffaste by þat fre fresshe of araye;
Beheld hir full hertely, hade no rewarde
To prayer, ne pepull, ne prayer within.
So he hedit þat hynde, & ho hym agayne
With a lokyng on lenght in hor loue ene,
Þat Paris ho pryset in hir pure mynde,
Of feturs & fourme fairer by myche,
Þan he vppon hir hertely couthe fynde:
And thus ho thought full thrange in hir thro hert,
Þat so semely a sight ho se neuer before,
Ne so comly a creature to hir clene wit,
Ne no lede to hir lykyng halfe so luff-able.
Ho tentit not in Tempull to no tall prayers,
Ne no melody of mouthe made at þe tyme,
Ne speche of no spiritualtie, with speciall ne other;
But ay staryt O þat stoute with hire stepe Ene.
There most was hir mynd in þat mene qwhile;
And Parys perceyuit the print of hir sight,
And lokit on þat louely with a light chere,
Till aither sight was sadly set vppon other.
So be lokyng of lenght with a loue chere,
Ayther kyndly by course knew oþer wille.
Then Parys pertly proffert a seigne,
ffor to telle his entent yf ho tome hade;
And ho onswaret þat Abill after agayne,
By seignes on the same wise soburly to come;
And beckonet hym boldly, when bourdys were thicke,
And pepull in play, his place to Remeve.
Parys listinet lyuely, let for no shame,
But drogh to þat dere & dressit to sitte,
And softly by him selfe said what him liket.
While oþer tentid in the temple tomly to playes,
And noght hedit þat hynde hertely in loue,
And þai hade laisure at lust þere likyng to say,
And wrixle þere wit & þere wille shewe:
Ayther vnto oþer arghit hom noght.
Þai were assentid full sone sittyng to gedur,
And festoned þere forward how þai fare sholde.
Þan pertid þai priuely, Paris toke leue,
And loutid þat louely, & ho hur luf kyste.
The knight with his company kayred fro þe tempull,
And sho beheld to þat hynd houyng full stille,
Lokyng on lenght with a loue ee,
Ay folowyng on fer till he was forthe past.

THE RAUYSHYNG OF ELANE.

Then Parys forthe past proude at his hert,
Wele laburt with loue longit full sore;
Evyn shoke to his shippes þere shene men were in,
And gedurt all the great greidly anon,
And said hom full soberly, er he sese wolde,
Thes wordys I wis, as ye wete shalle:—
“Now faithfull felowes, & my fre buernes!
Hit is knowen to you kendly þe cause of our iourney,
Why Pryam has put vs þes partis vnto.
This was truly his entent, & takon vs in charge,
His sister Exiona to sese & we might,
By any Way in this worlde & Wirdis vs demyt:
And if vs happynt not hir to haue at our wille,
The Grekes for to greue on sum gret wise,
With all þe might þat we may our malice to kythe.
And O nowise may we wyn þat woman to gete,
Withouten batell full bigge & a breme oste.
Telamon, the tore kyng, tentes hir so wele,
And is fuerser of folke by a felle nowmber,
And lappis in hir loue, þat leue hir he nyll
But with strenght of strokys, or with store fight;
And we ledis to lyte þat lady to wyn,
Or any Cité to sese by a sawte now,
Þere pepull are so plaintiose, & placis of strenght.
And, sers, syn he so is be souerans of goddis,
Vs may falle here by fortune a fulfaire gifte,
Þat shuld lelly be laght, as me leue thinke.
Here is a tempull atyret all with triet godys,
And the grettist of Grise gedrit þerin,
As of wemen to wale, worthy & nobill,
And prise of þis prouynse are in yond proude yle.
The most of tho mighty is menelai wife,
Lady of þis lond, full louely to shew,
The grettist of grese and a gai qwhene.
Yf we take this full tite, & tary no lengur,
Bothe pepull & pilage, & put into ship,
Hit is a proffitable pray of persons me thinke,
And godis full grete of gold & of syluer;
ffor the tempull is atyret all with tryet clothes,
Bassons of bright gold, & oþer brode vessell,
Chaundelers full chefe, & charbokill stones,
And other Riches full Rife þat we may rad haue:
What fairer shuld vs falle and we fer soght.
Yf ye deme it to do be deuyse of you all,
Hit sittes, me semes, sone in the night
We arme vs at all peces, & aunter þere on
The temple to take and all the triet ladys.
Golde and oþer goodes gripe it by dene,
And shote into our shippes, shake on our way:
And Elan of all thing we aunter vs to take.
Yf we þat luffly may lacche & lede vnto troy,
Priam, our prise kyng, may prestly suppose
His suster to sese, sent by eschaunge,
And his couetyng to cacche because of þat bright.
Lokys now lyuely! what list you to do?
To melle in þis mater, or to meue ferre?
And assai if we suffise our seluyn of might,
Yf we put vs to pillage, er we pyne þole.”
At þe last, when the lede hade left of his speche,
ffele of þe folke febull it thughten;
But yche lede by the last aliet þerto,
And assentid to his saw, & suet his rede.
When counsell was kaght of knightes & oþer,
And all things examynt, so aunter befell,
The neght drow negh anon vppon þis,
And the mone in the merke myghtely shone,
As come it by course, & cast a gret light.
Þai armyt hom at all peces abill to werre;
To the tempull full tite token þere gate,
Prayen & piken all the pure godes;
Affrayet the folke fuersly by dene,
Sesit & slogh, slongen to ground;
Grippit the godys and the gay ladys,
And all the company clene closit hom within.
Parys þen presit to þe proude qwene,
And sesit hir sone, as hir assent was;
Led hir furth lyuely, lefte hir in shippe
Vnder sight of sure men set hir to kepe:
And to the tempull full tyte turnyt agayne,
To rob of þe Riches, and Renkes to helpe.
Clamour & crie was Comyns amonge,
Hoge noise for þe nonest in night for to here;
Lelly of the ladies, þat leuer were degh
Þan be led out of lande, lowde was þe noise.
The noise vpponone neghit to þe Eris
Of Soudiours besyde in a sure castell,
That the tempull was taken & tulkes þerin,
And sum þat were slayne & slungen to ground.
By frekys þat fled for ferd to þe holde,
Distracte were þai stithly, & stonyt by dene,
And braid to þere bright gere, buskit hom furthe:
The soudiours by assent soghten to þe tempull.
In the castell were a cumpany, kyd men of Armys,
Þat enfourmet were of fyght, & the fet couthe;
Þai turnyt to the troiens, tarit hom longe,
ffoghten with hom felly, frusshit hom abake;
Hopit with hondis to hew hom to dethe,
Prisoners to pike, & the pray lyuer.
ffell was þe fight þo fuerse men betwene,
Mony derfe þere deghit, & dungen to ground;
But the Troiens were Torer & tentymes moo,
And greuit the Grekes gretly with strokys;
Oppressit hom with pyne, put hom to flight,
ffolowed hom fuersly, felle hom with swerdys,
Till þai come to þere castell & caght hade þere strenght.

Then turnyt the Troiens, tariet no lengur,
And went vnto water with þere wale godys:
Lefte noght vnlaght þat lykyng was in.
Myche Riches full Rife and relikes ynow,
Þai shot into shippe: the sheltrun to-gedur,
Þat fild were with folke & fyne gold to wale,
Sesit vp þere sailes, set hom to wyndes.
Cairet on the colde ythes cogges & other,
Aght dayes be-dene & the derke nightes,
Till þai comyn by course to the cuntre of Troy;
Hit hom into hauyn, as hom hap shope,
At the castell, þat cald was kyndly by name,
Tenydon, and tomly tariet þere in;
Þat sothely was sex myle fro the cité euyn.
There arofe all the Rowte & restid a whyle,
And were welcom, I wis, as weghes to þere owne;
Honourt with all men, as þere astate wolde.
Parys full pristly puruait a message,
And sent to his souerain in a sad haste,
Of thies tithandes to telle how hom tyde hade.
The messanger maynly meuyt to the kyng
To Troy, or he turne wolde, and told hym in haste,
Þat his sons were in sound & hor sute holl
At Tenydon; and told how hom tyde hade,
As hym seluyn hade sene, þat sothely was þere.
Pryam was proude of these pert dedis,—
The fainest freike in faithe þat on fote yode,—
And gedrit with gamyn the grettist of Troye,
And sum of the Citizens assemblit with all;
ffestid hom faire frely with hym,
And tolde hom þose tythinges tomly to end:
All maden þai mery & mekyll ioye haden.
As Parys and his pepull were in hor pride samyn,
At Tenydon þat tyme talkyng to gedur,
Hit Auntrid þat Elan, with other of hir lede
Þat were takon in the tempull, as I tolde first,
Were sorowfull sobbyng with syling of Teres;
All tourniet with tene, tremblit in hert,
Wailyng & weping, wringyng of hondys.
Hit was pité to the pepull the pyn þat ho þolet,
And said in hir sikyng with a softe speche:—
“A! my husband full hynd, & my hede brother!
My Doughter, my Derlynge, & my dere rewme!
Whethur I se you in solas or in sound euer.”

TO LATE.

Þus bemournet full mekull & no meite toke,
But with care & complaint,—comford away.
Parys hade pyté hir payne for to se,
On þat lady, his loue, with langour & wo.
He kairet to þat comly with comfortable wordys,
And menyt hir in maner hir mournyng to voide;
Yet sesit not hir sorow for solas of hym.
Ne noght glad of þat geste, but greatly anoyet,
Paris greuit at þat grete & gird out in yre;
Saide hir full soberly sittyng these wordes:—
“What lyffe is þis, lady, to lede on þis wise?
Noght sesyng of sorow, & sobbyng vnfaire
On dayes to Endure, with drouping on nightes.
Who sothely might suffer þe sorow þat þou mase,
With care & with complaint comynly ay:
Lamentacoun & langour the long night ouer?
Thus tourment with tene, & tides non end,
Ne hopis þou not it harmys, & thy hew chaunges;
And enpaires thy person, & proffettes no more?”

THE WORDES BETWENE PARYS & ELAN AT TENYDON IN THE CASTELL.

In faithe the burde fell of falling of terys.—
“And þou drunkyn hade dewly as mony du sopis,
As shottes of shire water has shot fro þin ene,
Thou faithfully were fillid vnto þi faire swyre.
Therefore, lady, & it like you, lighten your chere;
Comford you kyndly, kacches sum rest;
ffor in this riall Reme of my riche fader,
Ne faute shall ye ffynde, ne your fre buernes.
Tho truly þat are takon and temyn to you,
Shalbe plesit with plenty at þere playne wille,
And haue riches full ryfe: red ye non oþer.
And ye sothely, your selfe, souerain of all,
Shalbe worshipped worthely & your wille haue,
And honouret of all men as your astate shuld;
To be gouernet in your grettenes, most godely of other,
All daintes to you dight, þat are dere holdyn,
Plaintiouse in yche place, as a prise qwene;
And all your ledys deliuert and lose out of bandys;
At your comaundement clene all your choise pepull;
And lyue in þis lond with lustes at ease,
Alse syker and sure als þai set were at home.”
Þen onswared Elan easely agayne,
And driet the dropis of hir dregh teris:—
“I wot, sir, witterly, will I or noght,
Your wille I moste wirke, waite I non other;
Syn weikenes of wemen may not wele stryve,
Ne haue no might tawardes men maistries to fend:
And nomely in an unkythe lond nedys hom so.
And what daunger or dysese þat done is vs here,
Auther me or to myne at this myschefe,
Hit may happon you in haste haue suche another.
Thurgh giftes of our goddys, þat vs grace leuys,
We most suffer all hor senndes, & soberly take.”
Than Parys with plesaunce apperit agayne:—
“Dere lady full leell! your lykyng to do,
And all your wille forto wirke, yche wegh shall.”
Þen he hent hir by the hond hastely there,
And a littyll agayne lust lifte hir vp swithe;
Silet furth with þat semly & hir sute leuyt,
Into a place well appareld all with prise clothes,
And moche onestly ordainit for esmint of hir:
Þat þo souerains by hom selfe might say what hom liket,
Aither vnto other as onesty wolde.
Þen Parys to þat pure pertly can say:—
“Hope ye now, hynde Lady, þat your hegh goddis
Haue put you to þis prouynse pyne for to thole;
And let you be led vnto this lond hydur,
Þat suche a chaunge shuld you chefe to a choise febill;
And don fro delites depely to angur,
Noght abundonet in blis ne blithe in your hert?
Trowe ye not Troy is tore of all godis,
As plaintiouse in yche place as þe prouynse of Achaia,
At is doublit of delitis & druris at all?
Ne trawes not, tru lady, þat I take wolde
Thy ladyship to losse, ne in lust holde.
Thou shalt haue riches more Rife, & Ranker of godis,
Þan any lady in þi land, leue me for sothe;
And more likandly lyf & þi lust haue,
Bothe in weile & in worship, as a wee noble.
And me, þat am mete & of more power
Þen hym þat þou hade and held for þi lorde,
Wyuly to weld; & I the wed shall,
To lede with þi lyf as a leale spouse.
This I purpos me plainly in pleasauns of goddes,
Vnder Sacramen solempne, your souerain to be;
And so lede þe with likyng to my lyues end.
Suppos not þi seluyn, ne for sothe holde,
Þof þou left haue a litle lond lightly at home,
Þat þou ne hertely shall haue here a well larger,
And þi chaunge to chefe choisly the bettur;
Syn Asia is auenond of yles ynow,
Þat are attendant to Troy with tresour ynogh,
Þat obey þe shall bainly, & bow to þi wille.
Ne for þe mysse of þi maister make þou no sorow,
That neuer yet of nobley An euenyng to me,
Ne of dedis so doughti þe dayes in his lyue,
Ne so luffly to a lady with lokyng at egh.
And I in longing am Laght & Lappit full sore
With hete of þi hegh loue, þat my hert warmys;
And of hym, þat þou hopis most hertely þe louys,
Wete þou full wele most worshipfull to haue.
Ses now of scrowe, sobur þi chere,
Wond of þi weping, whipe vp þi teris;
Mene þe to myrthe, & mournyng for-sake,
Cast þe to comford, keuer þi wille:
This I pray þe full prestly with all my pure hert,
Þat þou hede me with heryng, & my hest kepe.”

ELAN.

Than answared þat honerable onestly agayne:—
“Who might stithly absteyne, or stable of teris,
Þat prestly were pricket with paynes so fele,
And with sorow ouerset sothely as I?
But syn hit now bes non other nomly of me,
I shall appres me with pyne your prayer to here;
Syn me botis not barly your biddyng with stonde,
Ne of power to put of, ne of playn strenght.”
Þen ho sesit of sykyng, sobirt hir chere,
At the prayer of Parys and his prise wordys.
When þat semely was sesit & sorow for-yetyn,
The lorde toke leue with full lowe speche,
And went fro þat worthy his weghis vntill.
When yt seyit to Sopertyme he seruyt hir well
With all daintes on dese & drynkes ynow,
And cherisshed hir full choisly with chere of hym seluyn.
When the derke was done, & the day comyn,
Parys full pristly with preciouse araye,
Worshippit þat worthy in wedys full riche,
As qwemet for a qwene & qwaintly atyret,
Þat Priam hade purueit & to þe place sent.
He broght furth þat bright with buernys full nobill.
To a palfray of prise full prudly arayet;
Set hir in a sadill serklyt with golde,
ffret ouer with fyne perle fresshist of hew,
With a bridell full bright, bothe of a sewte.
Other tulkes, þat were takyn, atiret were alse
Hastely on horses, as hor astate askit,
A company clene of knightes hom with;
And Paris full priste on a proude stede,
Deffebus dight on a dere horse,
Antenor, Eneas, all other grete,
Polidamas þe pert, & payones ynow,
All arayet in a Rowte ryden to þe qwene;
Worshippit þat worthy & wenton all samyn.
Turnet fro tenydon, taryt no lengur,
Soberly a soft pas samyn þai rode,
Euyn takand to Troy tomly o þere way.
And er þai comyn to courte þis cumpany faire,
Priam full prudly with mony pert knightes,
To welcom to þat worthy went on þere gate,
And fonget full feire all hir fre buernes.
To þe lady, þat lege kyng, with a light wille,
Past full pertly all with prise wordys;
Obeit þat bright all with blithe chere;
With worship & wyn welcomyt þe grete;
And somyn to þe Cité softly þai rode.
At the burghe were abyding withoute the brode ȝete
Gret plenty of pepull,—all the place full,—
So mony on molde was meruell to se;
With synging, & solas, and sitals amonge;
With myrthes of mynstralsy, musike with all;
Daunsyng of Damsele, Dynnyng of trumpys,
With A ledy full lusti & lykyng to here.

HERE HE DO TIDE!

Priam, the prise kyng, prestly down light,
And was first vpon fote of all of his fresshe knightes.
He raght to the reynes of þe riche qwene,
And led furth þat louely long vpon fote,
Softe into þe Cité hym seluyn with honde
On a worshipfull wyse, with mony wegh noble,
Vnto the palaies of price, þere pepull full fele;
And led hir vnlight into a large halle,
Vp into ylion with honour ynogh;
And toke hir full tite into a triet chamber,
Þere seruaundes full subiecte assingnet hir to:
And noblay ynogh, was nothyng to laite.
In the Cité forsothe was solempnite made,
With myrthes, & melody, & mony gret feste,
ffor ioy of þis iornay and þis gentill lady;
And þat Parys in point repairit was home
With his felowes in fere, fayne was þe pepull,
And lyuys in hor lykyng þe long night ouer.
The secund day suyng, sais me the lyne,
All the grete were gedret, as hom grase felle:
Paris with pride and his prise lady,
At Appolynes owne tempull after were weddit.
Þere made was þat mariage with myrthes ynow,
With solempnite & sacrafice þe Cite thurghe out;
And double fest þat day derely was holdyn,
With all þe reuell & riolté þat Renkes couthe deuise,
Þat enduret by-dene with daintes at wille,
Aght dayes ouer all after the dede.
When Cassandra hade knowyng how þe case stode,
Þat the mariage was made þo mighty betwene,
She brast out in a birre, bale to be-holde.
With a mighty noise, noye for to here,
Playnond with pytie, no pleasurance at all,
With sykyng & sorow said on this wise:—
“A! fonnet folke, why fare ye thus now,
With solas full sore, and sanges of myrthe,
At the weddyng of the weghes, þat shall to wo turne.
With hardlayke & harme, þat happyn shall after,
Ye dowtles mun degh for dedes of þo two;
And your fryndes full fey fallyn to ground,
Your sonys be slayne in sight of your ene;
Your husbandes hewen with hondys in pesis,
Wyues made wedowys, & wayling for euer.
A! Troy, þat is tore with toures full hegh,
Myche baret shall þou bide, & betyn to ground,
And be stithly destroyet, & þi strenght lost!
A! Modris so mylde, what myschefe is to you!
Moche care is to come to your cold hertys;
Moche baret on your birthe you bese for to se;—
Dyssmembrit as marters, & murtheret to dethe,
And the bowels out braide of hire bare sydes.
A! Ecuba, þat euermore easely hase leuyt,
What gretyng & gremþ growes vnto þe?
To se þi sones be slayne in sight of þin ene,
And the blode of þo blithe blent with the erthe!
A! balefull buernes, & full blynd pepull,
The hard dethe is you dight, þat ye doute litle!
Why wrought ye so wantonly in your wilde yre?
fforto rauysshe vnrightwisely þis riche out of Grece,
ffro a man þat neuer mys did to þis mene lond.
Why haste ye not heturly to haue hir agayne,
And restore hir stithly to hir strenght hom,
To hir lorde þat is lell & no lede harmys?
Venions and vile dethe to voide fro þis Rewme,
Er ye with swerdis in swym be swongon to ground.
Hope ye Parys, playn þefte vnponysshet wilbe,
Withouten sorow & sourgrem sewyng þerafter;
And you angur for euer en[d]les to worche?
A! Elan, vnhappy, hardist of chaunse!
Soche sorow & sikyng þi seluyn vs bringes;
Myschaunse & euyll chefe þi childur shalbe!
A! Sory Sytizins, sendis you fro
The smoke & smorther, þat smytes to dethe,
Qwyle ye lawfully lefe may & your lyf haue;
Þoche dole ho dregh with mony depe terys!”
With pyté & complaint, þat pyne was to here,
Þat Priam out of pes put ay anone,
And neuer sesit of saghis & sorowfull wordys.
The kyng þen comaund to cacche hir belyue,
And fetur hir fast in a fre prisoune,—
A stithe house of stone,—to still hir of noise.
Hit said was for sothe, ho sate þere full longe,
And suffert moche sorow for hir sothe tales.
Þus kept the kyng vnkyndly his doughter;—
ffor hir tales of truthe teghit her in yernes.
But, hade þai herkont þat hynde, & in hert keppit,
Troy hade bene truly out of tene yet;
And þere fortune full felle faire ouer-paste,
Þat all the world hade warnyng of þere wo sythen;
And euer mynde wulbe made of þaire myshap,
Enduryng till domysday for doole þat þere was.
Now, what felle of hor foly faire will I tell;
And ye hastely shall here, and ye houe stille.