University of Virginia Library

Thys ylke tyme of the toile, tellis the story,
There wont a kyng on the coste, in a cuntre of grece,
Hight Naulus to nome, an old man of age.
He hade londes full long, & of leue brede,
And the grettist of Grise, of gronnde & of pepull.
After a syde of the sea, sothely to telle,
Was a-party a prouynse, pight full of hilles,
With roches full rogh, ragget with stones,
At the full of the flode flet all aboue,
By the bourdurs aboute, bret full of rokkes.
This noble kyng Nawlé hade naite sons two
At Troy in the toile the toune for to wynne,
Comyn in company of the kyde grekes,
And fuerse men in fight, fell of hor dynttes.
The first of þo fuerse, and his fre ayre,
Was Palomydon þe pert, a prise mon in were:
And the yonger of yeres yepely was calde
Othe with all men, abill of dedis.
Palomydon the pure, a prise mon of armys,
With a nauy full noble fro Naulus his ffader,
Past with a pepull prowde of aray,
And turnyt vnto Tenydon, as I told haue.
The grekes, for his gretnes & his grym knightes,
Ordant hym Emperour by opon assent,
And Agamynon degrated of his degre þan,
Þat charget was for cheftan of þo chere all.
Þan Palomydon with Paris put was to dethe
With the birre of his bow, as I aboue rede,
(But ay ledis with lesyng louys to noy,
In baret to bring, & buernis to hyndur:
So happit hit here), þat harmyt the grekes,
And mony doghty with dole vnto dethe broght.
To this noble kyng Naule naitly was told
Þat Palomydon, his prise son, put was to dethe
Vntruly by treason of his trist fryndes,
And noght in batell on bent as a buerne noble.
Thai said Diamede the Duke hade don hym of lyue,
By ordinaunse of Vlixes, to vtterauns for euer.
Thus lytherly þo lyghers lappit þere tales,
And forget a faint tale vnder fals colour.
Thai said Agamynon with gawdes, & þe gay Dyamede,
Menelay with malis, & mighty Vlixes,
Thies ffoure in hor falshode had forget a lie,
And writen hit in wordes by þere will all.
The tenure to telle truly was þis;—
‘Þat Palomydon the pure had purpost an end,
ffor to treite with the troiens in trayn of þe grekes,
Þat no whe shuld hit wete till hom wo happit;
ffor a gobet of gold, to gripe of þe Cité,
All the Grekes to be-gyle, & to ground bring.
Thies letturs þo ledis lete forto bynd
To a buerne on the bent, in batell was slayne.
Þan Vlixes the lord,’ licherly þai saide,
‘Preset to a pure mon of Palamydon the kyng,
And of gold he hym gaf a full grete soume,
ffor to wirke o this wise, as the wegh bad:
Þat he wold bogh to the bed of the bold kyng,
And hade at his hede, þat he haue shuld.
Þan he fot hom of florens a full fuerse soume:
The gome grippet the gold, & his gate held;
Turnyt to the tent of his tru lord;
Presit to þe pelow, & put hit euyn under.
Þan the freike, in his fare, fore to Vlixes,
And said, all duly was done as the Duke bad.
Þan Vlixes, with vtteraunse, vne at the tyme,
Gert britten þe buerne with a bare sword,
Þat he no talis shuld tell of treson was cast.
Þen þe letters on þe laund, to þe led boundyn,
Were foundyn with a freke of þe fyn grekis,
And red to þe rynkis, as þe roll saide,
Of þe cast by þe kyng, & knawen with all.
Þen þe grete of þe grekis, & þe gay kynges,
ffull heghly in hate hadyn þe prinse.
Wightly þo wale kynges wan to his tent,
ffund a bag full bret, all of bright gold,
Happit at þe hede of his hegh bed.
Vne the selfe and the same sowmet before,
As the ledis, in the lettur on the lande, fond.
Þan þai presit Palomydon with a proude fare,
As a traytor vntrew, þat treason had wroght:
But the freike hym defendit with a fyn chere
With batell on bent, barly hym-seluon,
To trye out the truthe with his trist hond,
On what buerne so was bold þe batell to take.
And when no freike was furse to fight with hym one,
Of all the grekes so grym thurgh the gret oste,
Þan Vlixes the lord, with his lefe wordes,
Askewset the skathe & sklaunder with all:
He plesit the prince, & purgit his fame,
And the folke with his flatery falsly dissayuit.’
Yet thies lyghers vnlell, with hor laith speche,
Saidon the same kyng sone after þis;—
‘Þat Dyamede þe derfe, & doghty Vlixes,
To Palomydon in priuete presit to-gedur:
Þai toldyn hym full truly, in hor trayn feble,
Þat, doune in the dongyn of a dry pit,
Was a gobet full grete, all of gold, hid,
Of tresoure of the toune, for takyng with fos.
Yf hym-self wold assent þe soume forto gete,
In priuete to part, þat no prise wyst;
Onon, at þe nyght, þo nobill,’ þai saidyn,
‘Wold boune to þe bonke barly hom-seluyn,
All þe gold forto gripe, if hym gode likid.
Þen þe soueran assentid with a sad will;
Dred no dyssait of his dere kynges.
Past furth to þe pit priuely all,
Vne aboue to þe bordur, & bodyn þere all.
Þen þai fraynet qwiche freke, þat schuld first enter:
And Palamydon, þe prise kyng, put hym þerto;
Cast of his clothis cantly & wele,
And his hose in hast, highit hym doun.
When þe prinse was past to þe pit bothum,
Þe buernes on þe bonk bet hym with stonys,
And euyn dang hym to deth in þe derk hole,
Left hym þer lyond, & lurkit to þaire tentis.’

Þus told was þe tale, & full tru made,
To þe nobill kyng Nawle, of his nayt sone,—
Lappit with a ligher in his laith hate,
Þat derit mony dughti, & drepit for ay.
Naule þen onon, for noy of þis tale,
With Othé his othir son, ordant belyue
Þe grekis for to greue, & to ground bryng,
ffor þe sake of his sone, vppon sum wise.
Hit was told hym for tru, in tyme of þe wynter,
Þe grekis with hor grym ost were gon to þe se,
In sound for to saile, & seche to þaire londis,
With all þe tresour of troy, & þe toune leuyt:
Be any wise in þis world, wend hom behode
By þe cost in þe cuntre þer kyng dwellit.
Þen þe kyng, thurgh þe kyth, comand his men
ffaire fyris & furse to ferke vppon hillis,
By a side of þe se, þere þai saile most,
On þe mowntans mony in þe myrk nyght.
When þis done was in-dede, as þe duk bad,
Þe grete nauy in þe nyght come onon after;
Segh þe fires so faire fast at here honde;
Euyn bounet to þe bonke barges & othir,
fforto rest in þe rode of þe rugh ythis;
Letyn sailes doune slide sleghli & faire,
Rut euyn to þe rokkis with a rank will,
Þer were spandit & spilt in a spase litill,
Two hundreth hede schippis in a hond qwile;—
All drownet with dole, dukis & othir,
With all þe gold & þe godes, þat þai getyn hade.
Þe remnond, þat rode by þe rugh bonkis,
Herd þe rurde & þe ryfte of þe rank schippis,
Þe frusshe & þe fare of folke þat were drounet,
And held hom on hofe in the hegh sea:
All the skathes thai skepe of þo skire hylles.
Among whiche menye, to myn hom by nome,
There was Agamynon the gret, & the good Dyamede,
Menelay the mighty, & mony other kynges;
Thies passet the perellis of the pale ythes,
Houit on the hegh sea, held hom o ferre.

This Othe, I er said, the od sun of Naule,
Dissiret the dethe of the derf kynges,—
Agamynon to grefe, & the gay Dyamede,—
And to hyndur hom in hast, & hit hap might,
And þai past to þere prouyns & no payn þole.
This Othe, with ournyng, ordant belyue
Letturs, by a lede þat he leell trist,
To Agamynon gay wif, gert hym to beire,
Þat Clunestra was callid, as the clause tellus.
To hir he certifiet sothely in his sad lettur,
Þat Agamynon had goten to his gay spouse,
Of Priam a prise doghter, prayset full mekull:
Hir he broght in his barge to his burgh hom,
Þat faire forto feffe in his fre londes:
And ho mvn douteles be dede, & done fro hir right.
Þan he counseld Clunestra, er þat cas fell
To be war of þat wegh, & wait on hir-seluyn.
The lady leuit the lettur þat the lede sent,
And þonkit hym þroly with þonks in hir hert:
She compast by course, in hir clene wit,
How this vilany to venge, & voide of hir harme.

OFF THE DETHE OF AGAMYNON AND ÞE EXILE OF DYAMEDE BY ÞERE WYUYS, FFOR THIS LETTUR.

When this worthy of wothe wan to his reame,
Out of perell and pyne of the pale ythes,
Clunestra, that clere, come hym agayne,
His worshipfull wife, with a wale chere;
Resayuit hym with Reuerence, as Renke to his owne,
With a faynond fare vndur fals thoght.
This Clunestra the clere, as the clause tellus,
ffor lacke of hir lord laiked besyde.
Whille he faryn was to fight in a fer lond,
Sho spilt hade hir spousaile, sparit ho noght:
And lodly in hir law the lady hade synnet.
Engest, with his Japis, hade Justilet hir with,
And getyn in his gamyn on the gay lady,
A doghter þat was dere, in hor derne play.
Nawther comyn was þat kyde mon of no kyng riche,
Ne duke þat was doghty, ne no derfe erle;
Yet ho heght hym to haue, holé at his wille,
All the Rioll rewme with renttes ynow.
This Clunestra vnclene cast with hir loue,
By assent of hom-selfe, sone at þe night,
The bold kyng in his bed britton to dethe:
All Slepond to Sle with sleght of hom bothe.
And so fell hit by falshode, fer in the night,
When the bold in his bed was broght vppon slepe,
Þan entrid this Engist, euyn as hym list,
And, with a thricche in the throte, throtlet the kyng.
When this Duke was dede, & done unto graue,
Clunestra at kirke couplit onone
This Engest, with Jolite to hir iuste spouse:
Of Mechenas she made hym maistur & syre.
This Agamynon the gret hade a gay sone,
Consayuit of Clunestra, þat cald was Oresties:
He was yong & yepe, of yeris but lyte.
Kyng Taltill hym toke for trist of his lyue,
And send hym full sone to a sure frynd,
Ydimius, for doute lest the derfe qwene
Mortheret hym with malice in the meane tyme.
He was keppit full close, & with cleane hert,
And worshippit on all wise as þere wale son,
Ayre to þere herytage aftur hom-seluyn.

This Othe, I ere said, od son of Naule,
To Egea, afturward egurly send,
The dere wife of Dyamede, dernly a lettur:
Gert the lady beleue on a laithe wise,
He hade puruait a prowde wife of Priames doghter.
This Egea, the gest sais, was a iust lady,
To Polence, the prise kyng, vne a pure doghter,
(Kyng of Argonen cald in cuntres aboute)
And hade a brother full bold, & barly no moo.
ffaire on hir fader syde, as fell hom by chaunse,
All the londes full large of the lefe kyng,
Polence of price, þat was hir pure fadur,
Lefte to þo litle, as his leue heires.
Þan partid was prestly the prise Rewme of Argon,
Betwene Assandrus for-sothe, & his suster Egea.
This Egea ajoinet to hir iust spouse,
Dyomede the dughty, with hir due part.
Assandrus, for-sothe, sais me the lettur,
With Dyomed dernly dressit to wend
To the terage of Troy with a tore ost;
And er þai comyn to the company of þe clene grekes,
There all semblet were sothely at þe same tyme,
Þai past by a perty of þe prouyns of Boys,
There Thelafus þat tyme was a tore kyng.
There þai bowet fro þe barge to þe banke syde,
To solas hom a season with sum of hor pepull.
Thelaphus with tene toke hit to hert,
Þat þai light on his londe, & no leue hade:
He fore to þat folke with a fell chere,
With a company clene, kyde men of armys.
There faght þai in fere with a felle wille,
And kild of þere knightes to þe cold erthe.
This Assandrus, I said you, with a sad weppyn
Mony dong to the dethe of his derf knightes:
There-at Thelaphus hade tene, & turnet belyue,
Caght to a kene spere, cuttyng before,
Caupit euyn with the knight; kyld hym to dethe.
Þan Dyomede with dole drogh hym vp sone,
Hade hym fro horse fet with helpe of his knightes;
And myche water, I-wis, weppit þerfore.
This was clerely the cause of þat knightes dethe,
Yet his suster, þat I said, sothely was told,
Þat Diamede with dethe had done hym away,
ffor to wyn by his wyff all the wale rewme.
The lady for the losse of hir leue brother,
Myche mournyng ho made in hir mynd þan:
Hir hade leuer haue lost all hir lond hole,
Þan hir brother ho best louet of buernes olyue.
Thus heuet þat hynd to hir hede lord,
ffor tithinges hor tolde were of hir tru brother,
And the lettur with the lesyng, þat the lede send,
(Naulus the noble, by his naite sun)
Ho assemblit hir suremen in a sad oste,
And warnet hom wightly the mater to kepe,
And Diamede on þe depe dryue from þe lond.
Thus the bold kyng was banisshet fro his big yle,
All will of his wone his werdis to laite.
And Sythen, vnto Salerne he soght on his way,
There Teucro, the tall kyng, tan was for lorde,
Þat was Brother of birthe to þe bold Thelamon.
To Teucro was told of Thelamons dethe,
That Dyamede, the Duke, had dernly conspiret
With Vlixes the lorde, þat hym of lyue broght,
Gert take hym full tite in his tore angur:
But he stale fro þat stithe stilly by night,
Wan into watur, & away past.
Demaphus the du kyng, & dughty Athamas,
On suche wise, with þere wiues, were wernet þere londes.
Þan come þai to Cartage, with care at þere hertes,
There the noble Duke Nestor naitly hom toke,
And welcomyt tho worthy on a wise faire,
With all hor company clene, as þere kyd ffrynd.
There purpost þo prise men, with a prowde oste,
Thaire owne londes to lacche, & the ledes qwell:
But the noble Duke Nestor onon to hom said:—
“Ames you of malice but a mene qwile;
Sendis fro youre-seluyn to your syde londis;
Tretis hom truly all with tried wordes;
Hetis hom hertely to haue all hor hert wille,
Of ffredom, & ffranches; fret with hom so,
And all your will shall ye wyn, & no wegh harme.”
So hit happit þo hynd in a hond qwile,
To com to hor kyngdomes & hor kyth home,
With fauour and frendship of freikes with-in,
And were welcome, I-wis, to wyues & other.

Eneas, þat afterward auntred to leng
In Troy for a tyme, as I told haue,
His gold & his godis to gedur into ship,
And his fraght on the flode fully to make,—
Ofte faght þat freike & folke of the Cité,
With Enmys enerdande in ylis aboute.
When the toun was takon & turnyt to ground,
The kyng & his knightes kild to the dethe,
There come out of castels & of cloise townes
ffro the bowerdurs aboute, þat hom bale wroght,
Pilours and plodders, piked þere goodes,
Kyld of þe comyns, & myche care did.
Eneas þan afturwarde egurly counseld,
Syn he was banysshed fro the burgh, & bode þere no lengur,
Þat þe pepull by purpos prestly shuld send
ffor Dyamed the dughty, with his du helpe,
To fight with hor fo-men & forther þe lond.
The troiens full tite token his rede,
Sendon for the sure kyng in a sad hast,
Where the fre might be foundyn, & fet hym to Troy:
And he come to þat cuntre with a cant wille.
All the ledys of the lond lyuely were fayn,
Þat were helples & hard stad, & þere hede lost,
Þat Eneas was also euyn in the toune,
Noght faryn with his flete, ne the flode takyn.
Þan þai busket to batell, þo bold men in fere,
Armet at all pes, with abell to werre,
Þat were left vppon lyue, logget within.
Seuyn days, sothely, sais me the lettur,
Þai faght in the ffild with þere fuerse enmyes.
Dyamed full dughtilé did with his hondes,
And mony britnet on the bent of hor breme fos:
Mony toke he þat tyme and to toune led,
And hongit hom in hast vpon high galowes.
The fyfte day of þe fight so fuersly he wroght,
Þat no buerne was so bold his birre to with-stond,
But all fled of the feld, & fongit were many;
And ay hongit þo harlottes, as þai hent were,
Bothe on galous full grym, & on gret trees,
Þat none left were on lyue in the lond sone.
Owther captains of castels, or kepars of tounes,
Herd suche hardship happyn to falle
Of freikes vnfayre, that fore to þe Cité,
And all the costes full clene keppit hom away,
And neuer did hom no deyre, ne no dole after.

Whan Ené hade all thing ordant at wille,
His Shippes on the shyre water shot full of goodes,
Relikes full ryfe, & myche red gold,
With Anchises his choise (fader) chefe into flete,
And halit furth hastely to þe high see,
As hym demyt was by dome by dukes before.
He not wist, in this world, what wayes to hold,
Ne, what cost, ne cuntre, come vnto laund.
At the last, as our lord wold, he light into hauyn,
After in Itaile, as aunter befell,
Tegh vnto Tuskan, & turnyt to londe.
Now what worthe of þat whe, & his wale godis,
ffro he Tuskan had takyn, tellis hit not here.
Of his wondurfull werkes who wilnes to know,
Go loke at the lede, þat his lyfe wroght.
Virgell, full verely, þos vertus can tell,
In a boke þat buerne of þat bold made,
Þat Enyodos, with noble men, is to nome cald.
The Dere wife of Dyamede of his dethe herd,
How he turnyt vnto troy, & the toune keppit
Of his ffrikenes in fight & his fyne strenght:
Ho dout hir full deply, for drede of þe kyng,
Lest he raght to his rewme with a roid fare,
Kyld all hir knightes & comyns by-dene,
And hir-seluyn ouerset, & sesit the londe.
Þan Egea, full iointly, with hir ioly knightes
Toke counsell in the case, & comynt to-gedur.
The lady by lettur þan louely send
ffor Dyamede þe derfe, þat was hir du lorde:
Þan he turnyt fro Troy to his triet Rewme.
With myche worship his wife welcomyt hym home,
And his Arguens also, all were þai fayn.
Othir kynges of þe kith, þat comyn fro troy,
Þat were put fro þere prouyns, Repairet agayne,
Recounseld to þere cuntre, comyns & other,
And were welcom, I-wis, to wyuis & all.
Þan þai Byld vp hor Burghes & hor big tounes,
Þat were enfeblet before for faute of þaire hedes,
With the Tresors of Troy, & the tore Relikes,
And other Riches full rife, and restid hom þan.