Selected quad for the lemma: death_n
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A08454
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Here begynneth Octauyan the Emperoure of Rome; Octavyan the Emperoure of Rome.
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1505
(1505)
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STC 18779; ESTC S110240
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9,103
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26
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calebre answered bolde He wyst not what it ment Syr he sayde for her sake A grete fyre I shall do make This is my Iugement Whan the fyre is brounynge fast She and her chyldren to be cast To deth for to be brente The emperoure answered full sone Thy owne doughter hath this done I holde to myne assente There was dole and grete pyte A fyre they made without the cyte With brondes brennynge bryght To the fyre they layde the lady there Two squyers her chyldren dyde bere That semely were to syght In a kyrtell of scarlet reed To the fyre they led her to be deed All redy she is dyght The kynge of calebre made euyll chere For sorowe myght not staÌ„de his doughter nere There wepte bothe kynge and knyght The lady sawe no better reed But she must nedes be deed That daye in the felde With sory herte the sothe to tell Before the emperour on knees she fell And bothe her handes vp helde Graunt me lorde for Ihesus sake That I myght a prayer make To hym that all shall welde And than to do with me your wyll What deth that ye wyll put me tyll Therto I wyll me yelde The lady on her knees her sette And Ihesu cryst ofte she grete No wonder thoughe she was wo She sayd lorde and kynge of blysse This daye thou wylte me rede and wysshe And heuen quene also Mayde mary moder fre My prayer wyll I make to the For my chyldren two As thou lete them be borne of me Graunt that they may crystened be Or they to deth sholde go Kynges and quenes that aboute were And ladyes fell in sownynge there And knyghtes stode wepynge The emperoure stode her full nere The teres fell downe on his lere Full sory he dyde there stonde The emperour spake a worde of pyte Dame he sayd thy deth I wyll not se With herte ne with hande The emperour gaue her leue to go And toke her her chyldren two And badde her go out of the londe The emperoure gaue her forty pounde Of florences that were rede and rounde In geste as we nowe rede He commauded her knyghtes two Out of the londe her for to lede tho The two knyghtes her chyldren bare To what londe that she leuest were She was full sore aferde there The kynge frome the parlyament Euery lorde to his owne londe went And there dwelled with good entente For sorowe theyr hertes gan blede there That lady came in to a wyldernesse That full of wylde beestes was The woode was stronge and thycke The knyghtes toke the lady her chyldren two And toke her golde and bade her go As the waye laye full ryght They bade her holde the hye strete For drede with wylde beestes for to mete That moche were of myght Agayne the knyghtes wente with sory mode Alone the empresse forth yode As a wofull wyght She had so wepte here beforne That her ryght waye she had forlorne So moche she was in thought In a woode that was full thycke What for hylles and leues eke Her waye founde she nought In a sloughe vnder an hyll Sowne she founde a fayre well And an arbere redy wrought With olyue trees the arbere was sette The lady set her downe and wepte Ferther go she ne myght The lady by the well her sette With dolefull chere and heuy herte She myght no ferther gone Lorde she sayd of heuen blysse This daye thou me rede and wysshe God sende me some socoure sowne Mayde mary moder fre My prayer wyll I make to the To amende my sorefull mone I am full of sorowe and care And thre dayes I haue gone and more That mete had I none By that she had her chyldren dyhgt Forsothe it was full nere the nyght As she satte by the well In the arbere downe she laye Tyll it was lyght of the daye That foules gan synge and yell THere came an ape to seke his praye One of her chyldren he bare awaye Vp â—â—â—o one hye hyll No wâ—nder yf she were wo The ape bare her chylde her fro In swonynge downe she fell In all the sorowe that the lady in was There came rennynge a wylde lyonas That was in dede there In a sownynge as the lady laye Her other chylde she bare awaye Her dyscomforte was the more The lady was full heuy there For the wylde beestes awaye her chyldren bere For sorowe her herte gan blede To Ihesu cryste she made her mone And syghynge forth she yode There came a foule fayre of flyght A gryffon he was called hy ryght Ouer the hylles hore The foule was so moche of myght That he wolde well bere a knyght All armed yf he were The lyonesse and the chylde vp toke he And flewe in to an yle of the se Bothe with hym he bare The chylde slepte in the lyonesse mouth Of wele or wo it ne cowth But god kepe it frome care Whan the lyonesse had fote on londe Stowtely she can vp stonde As beest that was stronge and wylde Thoroughe goddes grace the gryffon she slewe And of his flesshe ete ynoughe And layde her by the chylde The chylde souked the lyones As it goddes wyll was And the pappes gan to welde The lyones gan of the chylde moche make And all for her whelpes sake She was therwith full mylde With her fote she scraped a den And brought the yonge chylde therin And kepte it daye and nyght Whan the lyones hongred sore She ete of the gryffon euermore That was so stronge and wyght And as it was goddes wyll The lyones loued the chylde full well That was so sayre and bryght The lady set her on a stone To Ihefu cryste she made her mone As a wofull wyght Ihesu cryste kynge of blysse This daye thou me rede and wysshe Of all kynges thou arte floure As I was kynges doughter and quene And empresse of Rome hath bene And of many a ryche toure Through this treason that on me is wrought To moche sorowe I am brought And out of my honoure This wordes lyfe I haue forlorne And my two chyldren frome me borne This lyfe I maye endure A lorde the sorowe that I am in well I wote it is for my synne welcome be all thy sonde To the worlde I wyll me neuer gyue But serue the lorde whyles I lyue Receyue me with thy honde Downe by a hyll the waye she founde And to the greke see she came And wente by the stronde Before her an hauen she sawe And a cyte with toures gaye The redy waye she founde whiche brought her to the towne A shyppe she founde redy bowne with pylgrymes for to fare She bad the shypmen golde and fe with that she myght therin be If that thery wyll were A bote the set vpon the flode And rowed to the londe there the lady stode A wyght man in he bare By the mast they bade her sytte Of her wo no man myght wyte But euer she wepte full sore The shypmen fayled by an yle syde The
¶ Here begynneth Octauyan the Emperoure of Rome ¶ Here begynneth the hystory of Octauyan Emperour of Rome LYsteÌ„ lordyÌ„ges both olde yinge And heckeÌ„ to my swete talkyÌ„ge Of whome I wyll you lythe Ihesu that is our heuen kynge Gyue vs all his dere blessynge And make vs gladde blythe Trewe tales I wyll you saye How it befell vpon a daye And ye wyll lysten and lythe In bokes of Rome as it is tolde How it befell amonge our elders olde Ofte and fell sythe Somtyme there was an emperour In rome of grete honoure In romayns as men can rede That man was of grete honour He lyued in Ioye and fauoure As a doughty man of dede In tournement and in fyght In the worlde was none so wyght As he was vnder wede Octauyan the emperour hyght Of all the worlde he was the noblest knyght And a noble man of dede An empresse he hadde to his wyfe One of the fayrest that euer bare lyfe Thus say clerkes vs vnto Seuen yere they hadde togyder ben With Ioye and myrthe theÌ„ betwene As hyt befell tho The emperour vpon a daye In his chumbre gan sporte and playe With his empresse bryght He behelpe her fayre chere That was as whyte as blossome on brerâ— And semely was on syght A sorowe to his herte come That he myght haue chyldren none Theyr londes to welde by ryght By his lady he hym sette For vpon her his mynde was knette He was so kynde a knyght Whan the lady gan it se She chaunged all her fayreble And syghed wonder sore She fell on knees her lorde agayne And of his sorowe gan hym frayne And of his grete care Good lorde yf it were youre wyll Your counseyll that you wolde brynge me tyll And of your lyues fare Your counseyll to me that ye dyscouer And for me hit shall neuer forther I shall it kepe whyles I maye dure And in his armes he gan ger folde And all his counseyll to her tolde How his hert was ybounde We haue seuen yere togyder bene And haue no chyldren vs betwene We shall lyue bothe but a stouÌ„de I ne wote how my sone shall fare But lyue in sorowe and in care Whan I am to bedde brought I slepe full yll / vnsunde on nyght Thenne answered that lady bryght Syr I can tell you I haue bethought A ryche abbaye we wyll make For our dere ladyes sake And londes gyue there tyll We wyll praye her sonne so fayre That we may gette a good ayre Our londe to welde at wyll They lete make an abbaye tho The lady wexte with chyldren two As hyt was goddes wyll fre At the last hit befell tho The lady was delyuered of of chyldren two That semely was to se Tythynges came to the emperoure There he laye in his toure A gladde man was he Two ladyes brought hym worde They had gyftes that were good The had bothe golde and fe The emperoure rose with mylde mode To his chapell there he you de He thanked god of his sonde Erly or ony daye dyde sprynge He made a prest masse to synge His moder ther he founde Sone she sayd I am full blythe That the empresse shall haue her lyue And lyue with vs in londe But moche sorowe dredeth me That Rome shall wronge arayed be And in straugne mennes honde Moder he sayde why saye ye so Nowe I haue men chyldren two I thanke god of his sonde Naye she sayd sone myne Well I wote they are not thyne It lyketh me full yll in londe For thou myghtest no chyldren haue Thy wyfe hath taken a cokes knaue I wyll hyt proue by skyll A sorowe to the emperours herte came That worde myght he speke none She yede away full styll To her chambre forthe she yode The emperour styll at masse stode As a man that was in care The emperours moder called a knaue And hyght hym gyftes for to haue A.C. pounde and more To thempeoours cambre the knaue take the waye There the empres in chyldebed laye Aslepe was she there For why she had waked so longe In payne and in care stronge Or she delyuered were Hast the with all thy myght Preuely that thou were vndyght And that thou be vncladde Softely by her thou in crepe That she wake not of her slepe Full seke she is bestadde Hastely was the knaue vncladde And in he wente as she hym badde In to the ryche bede But euer the knaue drewe hym awaye Of the ryches that on hym laye He was full sore adradde To the emperour sowne she wente And bad hym come in good entent At the masse there he stode Sone yf thou beleue not me The sothe mayste thou now se To the chambre with her he yode Whan he sawe the syght than A sorowe to his herte ranne That well nere he wexed wode The grome he sawe in the bedde The ryche clothes were ouer hym spredde Of that gylte he thought not good The lady laye fast on slepe A dolefull dreme gan she mete That was so lyght a wyght She thought that she was in a wyldernesse In sorowe and in grete heuynesse That she myght haue no syght She thought there came fleynge A dragon with the fyre brennynge That all the worlde was lyght And in his paues brunnynge blowe Vp he toke her chyldren two And awaye toke his flyght Therwith the lady began to wake A doulefull gronynge gan she make And she syghed full sore The emperour sterte to the grome The here in honde he hent anone The heed he smete of there In he keste it to the bedde The ryche clothes were all to bledde Of ryche golde thoughe it were The grete treason that there was wrought The lady slepte and knewe it nought Her dyscomfort was the more Worde of this they spake no mo Tyll the empresse to chyrche sholde go As the lawe was in that lede The emperoure made a feest I vnderstande To kynges that were in dyuers londe Of many alonde of far stede The kynge of Calebre without las That the empresse father was Theder gan hym bede All they sembled vpon a daye With Ioye and game and moche playe To the chyrche the lady yode The kynges dwellyde there in same There was bothe Ioye and game At that ryche dynere with good metes and drynkes amonge Of harpe lute and good songe Lute and good sautre Tyll the seuen dayes weee all gone with all welthes in that wone And myrâ—h of mynstreâ—sy There was neuer so ryche a gaderynge That had so sory a departynge I shall tell you why Grete dole it was to tell Vpon a daye howe it befell Herken and ye maye here The emperour to his chambre yode And his knyghtes aboute hym stode With a full gladde chere The emperour sayd I vnderstonde Suche auenture was in that londe By a lady as ye shall here All that treason he tolde them sone And asked what Iugement shoulde be done And what she worthy were Whan the emperour had his tale tolde The kynge of