University of Virginia Library

Some woundede, some slew, & some kane ta,
Ande spullede þare goodes alsua.
But frome þe hondes at þe last
He has chapede, & so long past
Thrught þe wylde sees wauerandly,
Whill he was commyne happely
Of þat ilk provynce of one place
That Gerbyndya callit was:
Inne-to þe which o kyng was þane
That was ane goode & rythtwiss mane
And to hys name hate Tytydes,
Ande helde þat provynce ine gret pres.
Inne-to þis kynges londe for-thy
Anthenore with smalle companye
Aryvede and toke londe þat tyde,
Whar hye brayes one ilk syde
Was lyande both one lenth & breide;
The which brayes endlonge he ȝheide.
Thus as they hye brayes he sought,
He fonde a fayre pleyne, wher he thought

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The Camb. Univ. Lib. Ms. ends here.

Was awenande a towne to set;
And þan withoutine longer let
He foundit ane gret cite thore
With þe troyans þat with him wore,
And quhene þat It was foundit all,
Corthire Melone gart It call.
The quhilk in-to schort tyme was made
With sikker walles, hie & braide,
And mony towres and turet,
About vpone þe walles set.
And quhene þat It was knawine to tho
That in Troy gane duelling mo,
That he had gart ane cite stabile
And to so awenand place & abile:
The most part of þaime come but baid
To hime; quhar-throw þe towne was maid,
Quhat of þaime & of vþeris seire,
Richt populus one gret manere.
Than to þe said kynge Tytides
Was tolde, of quhois provynce wes
That towne, þat Anthenor was in þane,
A richt-wyss, discrete, worthy mane;
So þat throw sic relacioune
The kinge in gret effectioune
Resavit hime in speciall grace,
And all þe troyans, with him was.
Quharfor gretlie he Is maid blyth
Of þe kyngis loue, and alswyth
Throw his wit and governynge
He Is secund best nixt þe kinge. —
Cassandra, quhilk þat ȝit remanys
In Troy, with mony bitter panes,
Of stanynge of hire moder schene
And of hire sistere Polexene,
And ȝet out teres in fussioune
With angry lamentacioune.
Bot at þe last hire rany teres
Dryed a litill, and hire feres
Sobrand, þocht sche had nocht maid ende,
The grekes tuke purposs to wende
Fro Troye and prayit hire to tell þaime some
Of thingis þat ware to þame to cume.
Quhom-to Cassandra said: þat þai
Suld haue gret Ill be mony way,
Or þat þai come in þare cuntre;
And to Agamenone said: þat he
Suld be slane with þe folk þat were
Ine-to his houss famyliere.
And as It eftir to þaime fell,
Richt as Cassandra gane þaime tell,
The present story sall declaire,
Quho list to luke It forthiremare. —
Kyng Thelamone þat richt pryvely
Was slane, as before talde I,
Hade two sonnes with-outine mo,
Gottine vpone his wyffes two:
Of þe quhilkis first Ermeydes
One Glausta þe quene gottine wes,
The toþir Antissatus allswa
Gottyne one þe queyne Thimissa.
And þire two sonnes, quhene þai ware ȝinge,
War gevine ine tutory and kepinge
To kinge Teuteus, to kepe and weilde,
Quhill þai ware cummyne to parfyte elde
And quhill þai ware abile to bere
Armes and tuke knychthed in were. —
Agamenone and Menelay
At grekes askit leif þat þai
Mycht pass home in þare awne lande.
And þe grekes þat was bydande
At Troye, walde scantly gif þaime leve,
For þai had þame in-to misleve
And suspecte In-to mekile thinge
Of Thelamonyus murtheringe —
Quhill Vlixes stall thiftuisly
Away, as grauntande hime gilty —
For qulk þai war suspecte þe less;
And at þe last þaime grauntede wes
Half gruchandly, to go þar way.
And passand one frome Troy sone þai
Enterede in schippis, he & he,
And þaime committed to þe se.—
This tyme, quhene þat herwist hade
In law places his coursses maide
And was passede vttraly,
And wyntir, his nixt nychtboure by,
Throw-out þe warlde ine syndry placis
Command with strenth of his slaw paces;
And had þe treis dispulȝeit
Of þare faire flouris and disfulȝeit
And had gevine scilence alss, but weire,
To þe swete sang of foules seire,
And with his austrene wyndis blast
Richt bustuously blawande and fast
Was cummand frome his lurkand laire
With his rigoure, þe plesand aire
Puttand away frome all brichtness,
With clowdy gaddering of myrkness
Clethande hime, In-to copye
Of schouris, þat giffis ythandly
Encressing helpe and nurisinge
To fludes In-to mekile thinge
And frome hicht of þe sumiteis
Descendand amongis þe waleis
With his richt coursses þe waleis mais
All wete and scowres all þe brais:
In þis same tyme, þat grekes was
Ameved throw so gret lichtness
Throw a blynd fulische desyre
That þare hartis as birnand fyre
Ameved, to pass In-to þare lande,
With eger willis and scaldande,
Strenȝeand þare thocht so þat quhile
That þai thocht one no parrile,
Nouþir þe tempest of þe seis
Ne of þe tyme þe qualiteis,
Bot gaif þaime to þat ȝarnande gate. —
For quhilk It happinnis oft, god wate,
And is richt suth withoutine dreid
That of fule haist cummis no speid;
For quho so haistis hime richt folely
To pass a gait oure-hastely,
He sall haue let and perchaunce he
Sall neuir cume quhare he wolde be. —
Thus quhene throw suche desyre birnande
The grekes had tone vpone hande
In þare awne cuntre for to torne
Frome Troye, withoutine more sudiorne,
Thai passit to þare schippis ine hy,
Quhare þare was ritches gret copy
That þai had wonnyne Ine-to þe towne.
Thus to þe se þai maid þaime bowne,
In-to þe holl of wyntir richt
Vpone a soft day and a bricht
Thai put þaime out ine þe depe se
And halit wp þare salis hie,
That bowsummit with þe wyndis blast.
So happely foure dayis þai past
And foure nycht þar-to but hone.
Bot one þe fift day ewyne at none,
As þai war throw þe se passand,
Of þe soft aire richt blyth beand,
Thinkand þaime ine full sikerness:
All sodanely þe soft aire wes
Oure-coverit with cluddis blak,
That cane a suddane myrkness mak,
Qutȝettand sic copy of rayne,
And of thondere sic noyes agayne
And of fyre-flaucht sic flawis fleand
That It signifyed þe se birnand,
Betuix þe mirkness and þe licht
That It semed quhilis day, quhylis nycht;
Eurus, Nothus and Affricus,
Loussede and sende frome Eolus,
Ourtirvis þe depe se in wallis,
That now as hillis hie It schawis
Now set laich with ane noþir skift,
That þai may se nocht bot þe lift;
And þarwith raynand euir in one.
So þat þe grekes schippes Ilkone,
Throw þe fell tempest nocht togiddir,
Bot dryvand thiddir quhylis and hiddir,
That þai mycht halde no certane traid,
Bot rewyne all þar salis braid —
For noþir takile, rape nor mast
In-to þat fell tempest mycht last —
Thus all þe day continuede owt.
Bot at þe nycht þe tempestis stout
Dowblede and worthit ay more & more,
So þat þe schippes, þat scaled wore,
Draif ine one heipe, dyngande one vþir,
Nouþir sparand for schip nor ruthire;
And þarwith all þe fell fyre-flaucht
Come frome þe hewine with so gret maucht,
That It kendillit fyre naturaly
And of þare schippes brint mony;
And þai disparit and all hope tynt —
So mony with þe fyre ware brynt,
And mony drownede ine þe se,
So þat þai had no savite.
Thare was full mony grekes drownede;
And mony gret ritches renownede
That out of Troy þai with þaime had,
That gredy flude swelled but baide.