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Sone after þis saute, sothely to telle,
Þat the Troiens in the Temple tokyn þe qwene,
And the riches hade Robbed with relikes ynow,
Er þai tenydon hade takon & turnyt into hauyn,
The speche of hom sprange & spred into Grise,
And gret noise of þere noie naitly ouer all.
Vnto Menelay, the mene tyme, mowthly was told
Of the rape vnrightwis of his Riche qwene,
And he stythely astonyt stroke into sorowe.
Ȝit present at pilé with the proude Duke,
The pité of his pepull pricket hym so sore;
The murther of his men & his mylde qwene,
The robbyng of his Riches & his riall temple,
Of his subiectes sesit, in seruage to dwelle
ffor tene & for torfer, of his triet lady,
Þat he luffit so lelly no lesse þen hym seluyn;
Thes harmes so heterly hepit in his mynde
With sorow so sodainly, þat his sight failet;
ffainted for febull, and felle to þe ground
In a swyme & a swogh, as he swelt wold.
When he past of his payne & his pale hete,
And resort to hym selfe & his sight gate,
He plainted full pitiously, was pyn for to here,
Of the harmes & the hethyng hym Lappont to thole.
And for his worshipfull wife, that hym worst liket,
Þat faren was ouer the fome, & hir fame loste;
And other freikes shuld fonge in a fer londe
With þat semly to solas, hit sate in his hert.
And of delites full dere, þat dight were at home,
Lest hir lackit suche lustis in a londe straunge,
Þoche mones he made & mournyng ynoghe,
With wailyng & weping, wo for to here;
Þat it neght to non end þe noie þat he tholet.
Vnto Nestor anon þis naytly was tolde,
Of þe mornyng & myscheffe to Menelay was comyn;
Vnto þat worthy he went wisly anon,
With sorow for þat syre & sylyng of teris.
He comford þat kyng with his clene speche,
To sober hym somwhat & sese of his chere,
Þen hyet he with haste home to his rewme.
And Nestor anon, with a nowmber grete
Of knightes & cant men, cairyt him with
Lyuely to his londe, & leuyt hym noght;
And by assent of hym sone sent for his brother,
Agamynon þe graithe, in a gret haste,
By a message on molde þat he mekyll triste;
In his cause for to cum with counsell of wit,
As he þat was helply and highest of other.
To Pollux the proude & his pere Castor,
Þat all highit in haste, houyt no lengur;
But comyn to þe kyng, þat the care tholit,
To helpe hym in haste & here of his noye.

THE COUNSELL OF AGAMYNON TO MENELAY.

When agamynon the grete the greuaunce behelde,
And the bale of his brother, þus the buerne saide:—
“Why dreghis þou þis dole, & deris þi seluyn?
Lefe of þis Langore, as my lefe brother,
Þat puttes þe to payne and peires þi sight.
If þu has cause for to care for vnkynde werkes,
And with sykyng ouerset, & sorow at þi hert,
Hit were wit, as I wene, to were it ffro noise,
And fro knowyng of comyns & of course opun;
ffor a sorow þat is sene on a sib frynde,
Mas þe mournyng more of men þat hym luffes:
Mikull comfordes his care all his kene fos,
And engendres þaire ioy all his iuste sorow.
ffayne euer feire chere in þi felle anger.
Whan sorow is most sad, set all at litle;
Lete of it lightly, þat no lede wete,
Þi sorow & þi sikyng set all at noght.
And in maters þat meuys þe with might for to stir,
There is no worship in weping, ne in wan teres;
But desyre þi redresse all with derfe strokis:
With þi swerde is to swinke & not with swym thoghtes.
ffor in sorow may be sene who is sad wise;
ffull propurly to preue in his pale angre,
When hym comys by course contrary thinges;—
He þat opressit not with payne his prinsepall wittes,
Ne ouersettes not his saule with sorow full hoge.
Þerfore wackon þi wille into wight dedis,
And þere as sikyng & sorow slees the within,
Þat þe harme þat þou has, and hethyng with all,
Pas noght vnponisshed for pité ne other,
But þe dedes þat vs deirus be full dere boght.
Þerfore sobbyng & sorow ses at þis tyme,
And wreke þe on weghis þat þe wrathed hase.
Yow know þat our kyngdomes are of clene strenght,
And we haue felowes full fele þat vs faith owe,
To wreike vs of wrathe & our wronge ricche.
All Grece, for þis grefe, with þere grete ostis,
Wilbe redy to ryse with a ranke pepull;—
Euery kyng for to cum with knightes enarmyt,
ffull stoutly with strenght to stir on our fos.
With a nauy full nobill, naite for þe werre,
We shall tyre vs to Troy tomly to gedur;
And if hit tyde vs our tentis tild on þere londe,
Hit shalbe hevi & harde, & happi vnlike,
Þat any frigies vs fere, or to flete dryue;
But it happon hom harder in a hond while,
And the dernyst be dede with dynte of our hondes.
Þaire pepull & hor power to pyne as vs liste,
Troy and þe tresoure take at our wille,
Bete downe the bildynges to þe bare erthe.
And paris, þat is prinsipall of our pure hate,
Iff hit happe vs to hent, hongit shalbe
As a felon falsest foundyn with thefte.
Hit is sothely to sese of sorow in mynde,
And to all the kynges by course, þat knowen are in Grece,
Dukes by dene, & other derfe Erles,
Let vs send to hom salus solemli by letre,
Praiand hom prestly with all our pure hertis,
To helpe vs in hast our harmys to venge,
And dyshonour and daunger done to our rewmes.”

When Agamynon the graithe hade geuen þus to red,
Menela mightily made for to write
To all the grete of Grece, fro Agamynon & hym,
Vnder sailes of those souerains, samyn to wend
By currouris to yche cost, kynges to warne:
And all agreit to þe gate with a gode wille.
The first of þo freikes, þat to the fight come,
Was Achilles, a choise kyng & cheuallrus in armys;
And Patroculus the proude, a prise mon of werre;
With Diomed, a doughti mon & dernist of hond,—
A stronge man in stoure & stuernist in fight.
Sone the cause was declaret with a clene wit,
Of the dede, ilke-a-dele, to þo derfe kynges;
And opunly, by one assent þai ordant hom all,
With grym ost for to go & a grete nauy,
Elan fuersly to fecche, and hor fos qwell,
And venge on þere velany & þere vile harme.
And for explait of þere spede, þai spekyn in fere
To chese hom a cheftayn to be chefe of þem all,
To be prinse in þat prise and þe prese haue;
All the ost for to honour & his hest kepe,
And be gouernett by this grete by grement of hom.
Þen by assent of þose souerans somyn, þai yode
And walit hom a wegh by wit, as hom thoght.
To Agamynon þai giffen þe gouernaunce hole,
ffor worthiest of wit þat worship to haue;
And ordant hym Emperour by opyn assent,
With power full playn þe pepull to lede,
And obey to þat bolde his biddyng to wirke.

THE DROWNYNG OF POLLUX & CASTOR.

Pollux the pert kyng and his pere Castor,
When hor sister was sesit, saies me the story,
In hope for to hent hir, highit to þe se
With a nauy full noble anon by hom seluyn;—
The Troiens to take was þere intent euyn,
And hor sister to sese, with sailyng þai wend.
Sum tellyn þis tale, & for true holdyn,
Þat þai bode not the biddyng of þe buerne Menelay;
But when tithyng was told of hor triet sister,
Þai fore to þe fome, as I before saide.
But how it tide of þat tale this is tru sothe,—
To þe water þai went, þo weghis to gedur,
Paris to pursew with prise men of Armes.
Thai sailit not sounde, sothely to telle,
Two dayes by dene, as hom dere felle,
When the heuyn in hast hepit with cloudis,
Wex merke as þe mydnight; mengit þe ayre;
No light but of Laite, þat launchet aboue;
Thunret full throly; thrappit the windes;
Sodenly þo sail[er]es were sorely bestad.
With a ropand rayne rugh was the se.
The wyndes full wodely wackont anon,
Rut vp the rughe se on rokkes aboute;
As hilles hit hepit in a hond while.
So þe bre and the brethe burbelit to gedur,
Þat hit spirit vp spitiously fyue speire lenght
With walter and wawes, þat þe wynd dryues
All fore as a fyre þe firmament ouer.
With an ugli noise noye for to here,
Hit sundrit þere sailes & þere sad ropis;
Cut of þere cables were caget to gedur.
All þere takyll was tynt, tylude ouer borde;
The nauy wex nakit; noy was on honde.
The shippis with shire wynd shodert in twyn,
Dryuen furth on the depe dole to be-holde.
The two brether were abidyng bothe in a shippe,
Þat was stird with the storme streght out of warde;
Rut on a Rocke, rof all to peces.
The bordes all to brast, brusshet in the water;
The Dukes were drounet, & oþer dere folke.
All the sort þat hom suet sunkyn to ground
A brode in the breme se, barges & other.
And syn the dethe was in doute of þo dere kynges,
Ne non certayn cold say, ne for sothe telle,
What worth of þo wight in the wilde se;
The gentils aiuges hom two iuste goddis,
Lyuond in the lofte with lordships in heuyn,
Tran[s]late truly into triet ioy.
And poites haue put of þo prise brethir,
Þat þai Rauichit were radly into þe red ayre,
And set in a seigne þat zodias is callid;
That demyt is to þis day duly with clerkes,
Gemini Aiugget in þere iuste artis.
ffor the sun vnder zodias settis hym to leng
Two dayes betwene, & dryues no ferre
Mo in his mouyng þen any mone other.
But, what is sothely be said of þo sure brethur,
ffor þe sute of þere sister somyn were þai drounyt.
Let Poyetis go play hom, & passe to our tale.

Here Darys in his dyting duly auisys
ffor to telle in his tale þe tulkes of Grece;
Of þere shap for to shew and þere shene colour,
Of the worthiest þere were, to wale hom be nom.
Þus he breuyt in his boke of þo breme kynges,
ffor he segh hom in sight at sembles full ofte,
(As in tymes of tru, þaire tentes with in)
And waited hom wele; for þe wegh thoght
To myn hom in makyng in maner as þai were.

THE SHAPE AND COLOUR OF THE KYNGES OF GRECE.

Agamynon þe gay was of a gode mykull;
His colour of þat kyng all of clene qwite.
He was store man of strenght, stoutest in armes,
With lymes full large; light of his will,
Meke as a maiden, mery with all;
Wode in his wrathe, wild as a lion,
He was witty þer with, & wegh hardy,
And of faciund full faire, fre of his speche.
Menelay the mighty was of meane shap,
Noght so large of his lymes as his lefe brother;
In mesure was made of a medull size,
Betwene the large & the litill; likyng of colour
Auntrus in armys, eger of wer,
A bolde man in batell, & of breme wille.
Achilles the choise was of chere faire,
Likyng & luffly, a large man with all.
Crispe herit was the kyng, colouret as gold.
Stokyn ene out stepe with a streught loke;
His loke was full louely, when ledys were opyn.
With a brest þat was brode, byg of his shulders;
Grete armys in the gripe, growen full rounde;
A large man of lenght with limis full brode.
A stythe man in stoure, storest of wille,
Was no greke on þat grounde of so great strenght,
Ay bowne vnto batell, boldist in armys,
Godely of giftes, grettist in expense,
Ay furse on his fos, and to fight Redy.
Tantelus the tore kyng was a tulke hoge,
Borly of brede, & of big strenght;
Wele colouret by course, clene of his face,
Rede roicond in white, as þe Roose fresshe;
With grete Ene & gray, gleyit a litill;
Meke of his maners, & manly in werre.
Aiax oelius was outrage grete,
Brode of his brest, byg in his armys;
A large man of lyms, lengest of stature.
Costius clothyng ay þe kyng weiret;
Noght lowrand with laithe chere lese for to speike.
Telamon truly was a tulke full faire,
Blake horit, aboue breghis and other
Serklyt of hom seluyn, semly with all.
A Sotell man of song with mony sere notys,
And mellit hym with musike & myrthes also.
He was doughty of dedys, derfe of his hond;
Pompe and proude wordis ay þe prinse hated.
Ulexes the lefe kyng was loueliest of other,
He was the fairest by ferre of all the felle grekes,
And falsest in his fare, and full of disseit.
Vndertaker of treyne, of talkyng but litill,
Neuer myrth in his mouthe meuyt with tong:
Sad of his semblaundes, sober of chere.
And of facound fairest with a fre speche,
He hade no make of þo men in meuyng of wordys.
Dyamede þe doughty was a dere kyng,
Stronge of his stature, stithe in his armys,
Brode in his brest, byg in his shulders,
With a loke þat was laithe like out of wit.
ffals of his forward, felle of his hond,
A derffe man in dede, dyssirus of batell.
Vnsober with seruaundes, sorofull in hert,
Dredfull in dole for dissait þat he vsit.
Lusty to lechery, vnlell of his trouthe,
And mony harmes hepit for hete of his loue.
Off Duke Nestor to deme, doughty in werre,
He was long & large, with lemys full grete.
A ffreike þat was fre, and a feire speiker,
Wise in his wordys, witté of counsaille;
Tru of his trowthe, tristy to loue,
Meke of his maners malise to pese;
And if he walte into wrathe, wode as a lyon,
But he lengit not long in his lothe hate;
ffaithfull of frendship to frekys þat he louyt,
The hertist to helpe of all the high kynges.
Protheselus the pert kyng was of pure shap,
Semely for sothe, & of Syse faire.
Doughty of dedis, derfe of his hondes,
None wighter in werre, ne of wille bettur.
Neptolon nobill was non of þe lest:
A store man of stature, stabill of chere.
His here was hard blake, on his hede stode.
Grete Ene and gray, with a grym loke.
Rounde sydes for sothe, sober of wille;
His shulders were shapon of a clene brede.
Bytell browet was the buerne, þat aboue met;
And stutid full stithly, þat stynt hym to speke;
But he was lernyd of þe lawe, & in his londe wise;
ffor to comyn in a case hade a clere wit.
Palomydon the pure, he was prinse faire;
Naulus son þe nobill kyng, & his next childe.
Vne made of a mene in the medyll shap,
Large of a lenght, lyuely & small,
Noght borely ne brode, but as hym best semyt.
A stythe man of his stature, stirond of wille,
Menyt hym to mony thinges, & of mynde gode;
Nobill talker with tales, tretable alse,
Curtas & kynde, curious of honde.
Polidarius was pluccid as a porke fat,
ffull grete in the grippe, all of grese hoge.
So bolnet was his body, þat burthen hade ynoghe
The fete of þat freke to ferke hym aboute,
Or stond vppo streght for his strong charge.
Aparty was he proude, presit after seruys,
He wold not gladly be glad, ne glide into myrthe;
But euermore ymaginand & entrond in thoghtes.
Machaon the mody kyng was of a mene stature,
Noght to long ne to litle, lusty to se,
Proude & presumptius, prouyt of wille,
Ballit was the buerne with a brode face;
Neuer slept þat slegh for slouthe vppon day.
Dares in his dytyng duly þus tellus,
Þat for the helpe of these hende, & hertely of oþer,
Of Perse come the proude kyng with pepull full mony,
And a company of knightes comly to se,
Þat tellis his Atyre & his triet strenght.
He was large, & long, & of lene shap,
With a face somwhat fat, fellist of colour.
The here of þat hathell was huet as þe fire,
Bothe o berde & aboue all of bright rede.

Of the tulkes of Troy telle we now ferre,
Bothe of mesure & mykyll whille I mynde haue,
As breuyt is in boke and aboue set,
ffull duly by Dares endited of olde.
Priam þe prise kyng was of pure shap,
A large man & a longe, liuely & small.
A faire man in feturs & hade of furse steuyn.
Wight in his werkes & of wit redy;
Delited to the deuer on dayes be tyme.
Noght ferfull, ne furse, faueret full wele,
Louet he no lede þat lustide in wrange;
He rulet hym by Reason & the right spake.
Songis of solemnite and songes of myrthe
He wold herkon full hertely in his high wit.
Was neuer kyng vnder cloude his knightes more louet,
Ne gretter of giftes to his goode men,
Ne lellier louyt ledys of his aune,
Ne with Riches so Rife rewardet his pepull.
Of all his sones for sothe, þat semely were holdyn,
Non was so noble, ne of nait strenght,
As Ector, þe eldist, & aire to hym seluyn.
He was truly in his tyme tristiest of other
Þat leuit in any londe, & a litle he stotid.
This prinse with his pure strenght plainly auercome
All Auntres in Armys, þat he euer raght:
Non so stuerne þat withstode a stroke of his honde.
He was massy & mekull, made for þe nonest,
Neuer Troy no tyme soche a tulke bred,
So graithe, ne so good, ne of so gret myght.
Ruly & rightwise, a roghe man of hors,
He spake neuer dispituosly, ne spiset no man;
Ne warpit neuer worde of wrang with his mowthe.
Ne sagh, þat was vnsemond, slipped hym fro,
But ay meke as a maydon, & mylde of his speche.
Neuer hatfull to hym to hygh into batell,
Neuer wery of þat werke, ne of wegh fferde,
He swat neuer for þat swynke, ne in swayme felle.
Was neuer red in no Romanse of Renke vpon erthe
So well louyt with all ledys, þat in his lond dwelt.
Parys was pure faire, and a pert knighte;
Here huet on his hede as haspis of silke,
And in sighkyng it shone as the shyre golde.
He was bowman O þe best, bolde with a speire,
A wilde man to wale, wode on his fos;
ffull siker at asaye, & a sad knight,
Of hunters he was hede, & hauntyd it ofte.
Deffebus was doughty & derfe of his hond,
The þrid son of þe sute, & his sure brother
Elenus, the eldist euyn after hym.
Þo freikes were fourmet of feturs [a]like,
Bothe of hyde & of hew to hede of a mykell;
ffor, to loke on þe ledys with a light egh,
The ton fro þe tother was tore for to ken
In sight at þat sodan, somyn & þai were.
The fourme of þo freikes was, faithfully to se,
Right suche as the syre, þat I said first;
Vndifferent to deme fro þere dere fader,
Saue Priam the prise was past into eld,
And þai of yeris full yong, ȝeuerus of wille.
The ton was a triet knight, tristy in armys,
A wight man for to wale, & wise of his dedis;
The tother, sotele of syense to seke in a lond,
And a corius clerke with a clene wit.
Troilus þe tru was full tore mekull,
ffull massely made, & of mayn strenght;
And yet hoger of hert & of her wille,
He demenyt well his maners, & be mesure wroght.
Amirous vnto Maidens, & mony hym louyt,
And delited hym in dole with damsels ofte;
But he mesuret his maners, þof he þe myrth vsid,
Þat it impairyt not his person, ne his purpos lettid.
In strenght ne in stryfe þere strokes were delte,
He was Ector eftsones, or ellis soche another.
In all the kyngdome & cuntre, þat to þe coron longit,
Was no yong man so ȝepe, ne ȝenerus of dedis,
Ne so hardy of hond holdyn in his tyme.
Eneas was euermore eger of wille,
Brode in his brest, & of body litill.
Wise in his werkes, & of wordys sober,
A faire speiker in a spede, speciall of wit,
A clene man of counsell, with a cloise hert,
Of litterure & langage lurnyt ynoghe.
A man full of mekenes & mery of his chere.
ffaire Ene hade þe freike, & of fyn colour,
Glemyt as þe glasse and gliet a little.
Of all the tulkes of Troy, to telle þem by name,
Was non so riche of Renttes, ne of renke godes,
Of castels full close, & mony clene tounes.
Antenor also was abill man of wit,
Long man & large, lyuely & small.
Mony wordys hade the wegh, wise of his dedis,
In fele thinges forwise, & a fer caster.
Wele louyt of his lege, delited hym in myrthe,
Bourdfull among buernes, blithe of his wordis,
Hethyngfull to hathels, but it harmyt not.
Polidamas þe pert þat was his prise son,
ffull ȝener and ȝepe, and a yong knight,
ffaire man of fassure, & of fyn strenght,
Worshipfull in wer, wise of his dedis;
A large man of lenght, delyuer, & small,
Euyn fourmyt as his fader of feturs & other.
A full strong man in stoure, sturnyst in Armys,
Wrothe with a worde & away sone:
His colour blent was in blake, with a blithe chere.
Merion the mighty kyng was massely shapen,
A faire man of fourme, & a fre knight.
Grete sydes to gripe growen full sad,
Brode shulders aboue, big of his armys,
A hard brest hade þe buerne, & his back sware.
Crispe heris & clene, all in cours yelowe,
All the borders blake of his bright ene.
A felle man in fight, fuerse on his enimys,
And in batell full bigge, & myche bale wroght:
Grete worship he wan while the wer laste.
Ecuba, the onest & onerable qwene,
Was shewyng in shap of a shene brede,
Massily made as a man lyke.
She hade a wonderfull wit a woman to bene,
Alse sad in þe syens as semyt for a lady
Wele norisshed þerwith; wise of hir dedis,
Meke of hir maners, myldest of chere;
Onest ouerall, as aght hir astate,
An delited hir deply in dedis of charité.
Andromaca, auenonde abill of person,
Worthy Ector wyfe, was a we faire.
Long body hade the burdde, bright of hir colour.
Ho was mesurably made, as þe mylke white.
Hir ene flamyng fresshe, as any fyne stones.
Rud as þe Roose roikede in hir chekes.
Hir lippes were louely littid with rede.
Gilde hores hade þat gay, godely to se.
Most onest of other euer in hir tyme,
And all hir dedis full duly done by a mesure.
Cassandra the clere was a Clene Maydon,
Semely of a Sise, as the silke white,
Womonly wroght, waike of hir colour,
Godely of gouernaunce, and gleyit a litle.
Of wemen werkes wilnet ho none,
Most was hir mynde hir maidonhede to kepe.
Mony cas for to cum ho be course wiste,
By artys of astronomy, & ame of hir wit,—
By staryng on the sternys thurgh hir stithe lore.
Polexena the pert was prise of all other,
Of feturs & fourme the fairest on lyue;
ffull tendur of hir tyme, triet of hewe.
Of hir fairnes fele may no freike telle,
Ne no wegh has wit ne wordys þerfore,
ffor to labur so longe of hir lefe shap;
But truly I telle as þe text sais,
Ho was of bewte aboue all borne in hir tyme,
To wale þurgh the world of wemen bydene,
Alse noble for þe nonest as natur cold deuyse,
To paint in yche place thurgh his pure study,
(Þat errit not in anythyng of abilté þer,
Saue he demyt hir dedly, when hir day come.)
And ay cheriste hir chastité with a choise wille,
To þat abundaunse of bewte ho was best norisshed.
Witté to wale, wantid no thewes;
Voidet all vanities, & virtus dissyret.
Þus Dares in his dyting deuyses þe shap
Of þese freikes in fere, þat I before tolde;
Of kynges & knightes & oþer clene ladies;
Of Dukes by-dene, þat were dere holden;
Of the gretist of Grece, & of gret Troy,
Þat he hade comyng with in company, & knew well þe persons,
As the worthiest to wale & wildest in Armys.
Of these nomly to neuyn, & nobill men other,
How þai bere hom in batell, I buske me to say;
And telle how hom tyde, whill I tyme haue.—
Stir fuorth to our story, & stynt here a while.