you in pledge ye shall haue The meane whyle and kepe thē on your side At your choyse hostages to abyde From Troye towne of the worthiest That ye lyst chese and also of the beste So that ye shall of nothyng be in were Of all that euer that I saye you here ¶ And Achilles without wordes mo If that you lyste accorde therunto That I haue sayd thy honour to encrease To make this werre sodaynly to cease That lykly is for to laste longe Betwene Troians and the Grekes stronge Thou shalt not onely w t honour with fame Throughout the worlde winnen the a name But therwithall and that is not a lyte Thrugh thy knighthod to many man profite That fro the death shall escape alyue And to his countre hole and sounde aryue That lykly are by cruell aduenture For to be dead if the werre endure Come of therfore and let not be prolonged But let the daye atwene vs two be ioyned As I haue sayd in condiciowne If in diffence onely of this towne I haue victorye by fortune ouer the I axe not elles but anone that ye Breake vp siege and the werre lete And suffer vs to lyuen in quyete Into Grece home when ye are gone To which thinge Achilles there anone Hote in his yre and furyous also Brenning full hote for anger and for wo Assented is with a despytous cheare ¶ And gan anone to Hector dresse him nere And sayd he would delyuer him vtterly Fro poynt to poynt his axynge by and by And therin made none excepciowne But of hole herte and entencion His requeste accepted euery dell And as it semed leked it right well And for his parte he caste his gloue adowne In sygne and token of confirmaciowne For lyfe or death that he will holde this daye Agayne Hector happe what happe maye Vnto the which Hector lyfely sterte And toke it vp with as glad an herte As euer yet did any man or knyght That quarell toke with his foe to fight There can no man in sothe a ryght deuyse How glad he was of this high empryse ¶ Of whych the noyse and the great sowne Ran to the eares of kinge Agamenowne And he anone him selfe came to the tente With all the lordes of his parliament ¶ Where Achilles and Hector were yfere To wytte their will as in this mattere Where they would assenten fynally To put the quarell full in Ieopardy Of other parte atwene these knightes tweyn As ye haue herde fully to dareyne ¶ And with one voyce Grekes it denye And sayde they nolde of suche a companye Of kinges Dukes and of Lordes eke also Bothe life and death Ieoparte atwene two Nor to the course of fortune theim submitte That can all daye her face chaunge flytte And some of Troye in conclusyowne Ieoparde ne wold their liues nor their towne In the handes onely of a knight To put all in auenture of fyght ¶ Pryam except whyche sothly in this case Within him selfe fully assented was Playnly to put and sette in Ieopardye Hooly the honour of his regallye Supposynge aye as made is memorye That Hector shoulde haue had the victorye Of this empryse if he toke it on hande ¶ But for Priam might not tho withstande Agayne so many of one entencion That were contrarye to his opynion Bothe of Grekes and on Troye syde He helde his peace and let it ouer slyde And so the Grekes parted be echone ¶ And Hector is from Achilles gone Home to Troye where I him leue a whyle Whiles that I dyrecten shall my stile To tell of Troylus the lamentable wo Which that he made to parte his lady fro ALas fortune gery and vnstable And redy aye for to be chaungeable Whē folke most trust in thy stormye face Like their desyre the fully to embrace Then is thy ioye away to tourne and writhe Wpon wretches thy power for to kythe Record of Troylus y t from the whele so lowe By false enuye thou hast ouerthrowe Out of the ioye whych that he was in From his lady to make hym for to twynne When he best wende for to haue be sured And of the woe that he hath endured I muste nedely helpe hym to complayne Whych that in herte felte so great payne So inwarde wo and so great distresse More than I haue cunning to expresse When that he knewe the partynge of Creseyd Almost for wo and for payne he deyed And fully wiste that she departe shal By sentence and by iudgement fynall Of his father gyuen in parlyamente For which with wo and tourment al to rente He was in poynt to haue fallen in rage That no man might appease nor aswage The hidde paynes which in his brest gā dare For lyke a man in furye he gan fare And such sorowe daye and nyght to make In complayninge onely for her sake For when he sawe that she should aweye He leuer had playnly for to deye Than to lyue behinde in her absence For him thought without her presence He was but dead there is no more to sayne And into teares he gan to berayne With which his eyen gan for to bollen And in his brest the sighes tho vppe swollen And the sobbynge of his sorowes depe That he ne can not do but rore and wepe So sore loue his herte gan constrayne And she ne felte not a litle payne But wepte also and piteously gan crye Desyringe aye that she might do dye Rather than parte fro him out of Troye Her owne knyght her lust her lyues ioye That by her chekes the teares downe destyll And fro her eyen the teares round drops tryl That all fordewed haue her blacke wede And eke vntrussed her heyre abrode gā sprede Lyke golde wyre forrent and all to torne Yplucked of and not with sheres shorne And ouer this her freshe rosen hewe Whilom ymeynt with whyte lylyes newe With wofull wepynge pyteously disteyned And like the herbes in April all bereyned Or floures freshe with the dewes swete Right so her chekes moyste were and wete With cristall water vp ascendinge hye Out of her brest into her heauenly eye And aye amonge her lamentaciowne Full ofte sythe she fell in swowne adowne Deadly pale fordimmed in her syghte And ofte sayde alas myne owne knight Mine owne Troilus alas why shal we parte Rather let death with his spere darte Through my herte and the vaynes kerue And with his rage do me for to sterue Rather alas than fro my knight to twinne ¶ And of this wo Oh death that I am in Why nilt thou come helpe to make an ende For how shulde I out of Troye wende He abyde and I to Grekes gone There to dwell amonge my cruell fone Alas alas I wofull creature How shoulde I there in the werre endure I wretched woman but my selfe alone Amonge the men of armes euerychone Thus gan she crye all the longe daye This was her playnte with full great affray Her pyteous noyse till it drewe to night That vnto her
sodaynly they gan echone to chace At Penthens and loude agayne hym crye Repreuynge hym and the prophecye Of this father to their confusyon ¶ But oh alas the reuolucion Of ioye or wo or of felicitee For thing tofore ordeyned must nedely be The state of thynges w t fate is so englewed For that shall fall may not be eschewed Whiche caused them for tassent in one In al the hast that Parys shulde be gone Vnhappely w t hap they were enuolued ¶ And thus concluding their counsaile is dissolued But casuelly loe it befell ryght than That this aduyse vnto the ere 's ran Of Cassandra and she with great afraye Of sodayne wo gan cryen welaway ¶ Alas quod she alas what wyll ye do What and shall Parys into Grece go And with that worde she braste out to wepe Full piteously with inwarde syghes depe She gan to wayle and sowne for the payne And furyously with noyse to complayne With wofull rage and many pyteus sowne She made a mortall lamentatiowne For to be deade she might her not withholde With heare to torne and with fystes folde She sayde alas more than and hundred syth Ah stormy fortune why lyst thou to kythe Thy cruell force to oure aduersytie Vpon vs all and eke on this Citie Of mortall yre and gery violence with sword of vengeaunce worse thā pestilēce ¶ Oh Troye Troye what is the gylte alas What hast thou done what is thy trespas To be euersed and tourned into nought With wylde fyre thy synne is dere abought Ah Pryam kynge vncely is thy chaunce What hast thou gylte outher do greuaunce To thy goddes or wyrched through vnryght Them to prouoke to shewe their cruell might Vpon thy bloud alas what hast thou do Oh mother myne Oh Hecuba also What maner cryme or importable offence Hast thou cōmyt to haue such recompence The daye to abyde Oh noble worthy quene Of thy sonnes suche vengeaunce for to sene Oh wofull deth cruell and horryble Alas why are ye no more credible To my counsayle suche harmes to eschewe Your mortall purpose fully to remewe That he go not as it is ordeyned The thought of which my hart hath so cōstrained That vnneth I may this my wo endure And to her father this wofull creature Helde streight her way falleth plat to groūd And of her wepyng all in water drownde By her chekes so gan the teares rayne And as she myght for constraint of her paine Vpon hym she gan clyppen and crye Besechynge hym to shape a remedye With pyteous voyce as she y t knewe ful wele In this matter playnly euerydele What shall befall and had it full in mynde The sodeyne harmes that shal insue behynde But all her clamour was not but in vayne For that shall fall as some clerkes sayne Ne may not well of men eschewed be And eke fortune by great aduersytie Of hasty Ire furyous and wood And aye vnkynde vnto the Troyan bloud Causelesse agaynst them sore agreued And of rancour sodaynly amened With blind awaite to catche them in a traūce By vyolence of her vnhappy chaunce Hath w t a sweyght tourned her whele vnstable As she that is enuyous and mutable To hasten Troyens to theyr confusyon Of wylfulnesse and vndiscretion Agaynst grekes quarell for to make And therupon haue their counsayle take And haue achieued as ye herde deuyse Without assent of the most wyse For yf so they the diffynycyon Of Hector herde concluded in reason In this matter and of Helenus The counsayle take and to Percheus Aduerted wysely as to his sentence And without faynyng gyuen full credence To her Cassandra that neuer lyst to lye And by aduyse had harde the prophecye From poynt to poynt for to caste aforne In such mischief they had not tho be lorne But floured yet in theyr felycitie Without domage and aduersytie But fortune will fortholde her course alway Whose wyll abydeth who so sayth ye or nay For she it was that caused this voyage With forhead playne blandishing vysage With sugre shad and venim in the roote Bytter of taste and in shewing soote Wrynckled double like an horned snayle Fayth in her face fraud ay in her tayle To haste the Troyans to accorde into one That Parys shuld into grece gone As ye haue herde there is no more to sayne For herupon they cast theim to ordayne ¶ How Priam the king sent Paris Deiphobus and others of the worthies of Troy into Grece to aduenge the rauishinge of his syster Exion how they before their returne rauyshed the faire Heleine wife to Menelaus and brought her to Troye Ca. xiii THe time approched whē y e son shene His golden wayne whyrleth vp atwene The cleare sterres of Hyades so read Which haue theyr scyte in the Bulles head And Pleyades the seuenth sterre so bryght Of whych syxe appearen to our syght For the seuenth draweth her asyde And couertly doth her beames hide Whylom for she hath done a great offence That vnto vs causeth her absence For she dare not shewe her stremes cleare Nor with her systren openly appeare Whelom for she as with a god mortall A syn committed that was cryminall Which noysed was kouth thrughout y e heuē That she alone amonge the sistrē seuen Shroudeth to vs shamefestly her chere ¶ And when as Titan in the zodiak sphere Atwene these sterres taken had his see Of the bul in the sixtenth degre Vpon the time of Ioly grene Maye When that Flora with her hewes gaye Hath euery playne medowe hil and vale With her floures quicke nothing pale Ouer spred and clad in lyuery newe And braūches blosme with diuerse lusty hewe And byd vs fully to be glad and lyght For by assuraunce they their fruit haue hight Agayne Autumpne who so that list thē shake When on the vines ripeth euery grape For thus this season most lusty of disporte Embraseth hertes with newe recomforte Onely of hope by kinde as it is dewe That holsom fruite shall the blosmes sewe Whan time cometh by reuolucion And thus in May y e lusty freshe season Whan byrdes synge in theyr hermonye The same time out of Pannonye Repeyred be Deiphobus and Parys And with theim brought chosen by deuyse Thre thousande knightes redy for to gone With theim to grece and shippes many one Ful vitayled of all that may theim nede And of these shippes the nomber as I rede Was two and twenty like as wryte Guydo And after this without more ado The kinge commaundeth vnto Eneas To Anthenor and to Polydamas In al the haste that they theim redy make With Parys knyghtly for to vndertake As ye haue herde this Iourney to acheue And on the time whan they toke theyr leue Pryamus with shorte conclusyon Sheweth the effect of his entencion And specially they theyr deuer done For to recure his syster Exione As ye haue herde here tofore me tell What shuld I more in this matter dwell Whan they were ready without more soioure
dewe That first was grene tourned into red On eche side so many one lay deade Vpon the grounde of his life depryued ¶ But duke Nestor all sodaynly ariued With his knightes fell and full Irous And of herte right melancolious With his speres and archiers out aside He entred in sterne and full of pride With sworde are grounde sharpe and kene They ran yfere and met vpon the grene And hoked arowes alway flewe amonge And shaftes shiuer brast and tourne wronge And with their toles steled and well whet The longe daye they haue togither met And the slaughter newe alwaye began On euery halfe of many worthy man With woundes large and despytous ¶ For Prothenor and king Archelaus With swerdes stiffe among the renges kerue That many Troian made for to sterue They were that daye so passingly Irous And theim tauenge inly desyrous Neuer seasing in their pursewing ¶ And to releue theim Alagus the kinge Ylonded is and eke king Attalus Which on Troians were full enuious Brenning of ire as the fiery glede And vpon theim of very olde hatrede With their knightes sodeynly be fall And in their ire bitterer than gall Cruelly there they their foen oppresse And of assent did their businesse Maugre theim backwarde to resorte Amide the felde as I can reporte There was no choyse so they were cōstreyned Of very force and of manhode payned To withdrawe to their confusiowne But than in hast downe from Troye towne Of worthy knightes freshly armed newe With deuyses of many sondry hewe Without abode shortly to conclude There came downe so great a multitude Eche his armes depaynte vpon the shylde That in their comming glittereth al the felde Of their armure as the sonne bryght And whan that they were entred in to fight Grekes metynge felly by enuye They sette vpon fret with melancolye With such a will of herte and of courage With such furye in their mortall rage That to accorde was none other mene But slaught and death theym to go betwene Thrugh stroke of axe of dagger and of spere That of force compelled the grekes were Theim retourne backwarde to the stronde To whose rescuse anone there came to londe The king Vlixes with his hole nauye And full knightly wyth his chiualrye Towardes Troians enhasteth him anone And of one herte the grekes with him gone And theyr courage hooly they resume And gan their foen felly to consume Vnto the death their domage to reuenge That no wight may iustly theim chalenge Of manhode so well they haue theim borne To acquite again their harmes done beforne At which time like a fierse Lyowne Amonge Troians ranging vp and downe Vlixes wente with his swerde in honde He killeth sleeth and knightly gan to fonde Thilke daye like a man be founde And here there with many mortal wounde Vpon Troians he wrought all this wracke Thē bering downe on fote on horse backe In his ire his strokes were so kene ¶ At which time worthy Philomene Lorde and king of Pafflagonye Whan he behelde with his companye So many Troian of Vlixes slawe Towardes him anone he gan him drawe On horse backe and with a spere rounde Out of his sadyll bare him to the grounde But Vlixes rose vp anone right Taking his horse lyke a manly knight The which anone as Philomene hath sayne Toke eft a spere and rode to him agayne So mightely and with such violence That fynally there gayneth no diffence But that he smote him euen through y e shelde The which flewe asonder in the felde And through his plates without any fayle The spere head and rested in the mayle That forged was of stele ful shene bright Which to perce the spere head hath no might So trewly made was the haberiowne But w t that stroke Vlixes was bore downe Yet efte agayne he hasteth vp anone Ne of this stroke herme felt he none And raught a spere sharpe whet ygrounde And Philomene he gaue such a wounde With all the myght of his armes twayne Of yrous herte with so great a payne That through his sheld both y e plate maile He smote him vp through his auentayle Into the gorge that the stocke gan glyde That from his horse he fell downe asyde Full peryllously pyght vpon his head His knightes wenyng sothly he were dead Which toke him vp and layde him on a shelde And bare him home in hast out of the felde With great daunger or they might him wyn Through the grekes with their lord to twyn And for Troians supposed sykerly That Philomene withouten remedye Had be dead they were astoned all That if this case that daye ne had befall Of Phylomene grekes on the stronde Had be outrayed arruing vp to londe Through the knighthod this is doubtles Of Phylomene whom that Vlyxes Vnhorsed hath with a mortall wounde In knightly wyse Troians to confounde Wherof they were astoned euerychon ¶ But Thoas than and Agamenon Of Grekes hooste lorde and emperour Aryued is vnto theyr socoure With all his knightes and Menelaus And eke the worthy Thelamonious Called Ayax is to lande come And they at leysure haue theyr horse nome While other grekes Troians occupye Sore fighting and they gan fast hye Towardes theim making no delay All in a frushe in all the hast they may They ran yfere and their speres bracke With herte enuyous vpon horse backe There myght men the worthy knyghtes se On their stedes eche at other flee With styffe swordes shaftes great rounde With hedes square the pointes kene grounde There myght men se in their furyous tene So many knightes dead vpon the grene But most the slaughter and confusyowne Fell thilke time of theim of the towne The grekes were so myghty and so stronge And in the felde this contynueth longe ¶ Til Prothesylay the stronge mighty king Which all the daye in skarmishe and fighting Full lyke a knyght had occupyed be Againe Troians in his cruelte Of manhode onely and of worthinesse Of aduenture in his werynesse Him to refreshe and to taken eyre And to abrethe him making his repeyre To the stronde where he did aryue Where as he thought his herte gan to ryue Of cruel yre and also of pyte That he hath caught onely for to se His men slayne endlonge on the stronde And some of theim comyng vp to londe Dreynt in the sea amonge the flodes depe For whych thinge he gan anone to wepe Full pyteously all were it not aspyed Whose wofull eyen might not tho be dryed For the constreynt which sat so nygh his hert Till at the last amonge his paynes smerte So cruell yre gan his herte enbrace That sodaynly with a despytous face Without abode thought how that he Vpon theyr death would auenged be Or finally attones with theim deye And on his stede he toke the right weye Towarde his foen ful yrous in his rage And line right he holdeth his passage Swift as grayhounde y t renneth out of lese And where he sawe that
rewth or any grace Alas alas why wyll ye besy be Ye wofull wretches shet in this Cite With the grekes for to seken peace Or the sworde of vengeaunce mercyles On hygh and lowe do execuciowne And or this noble worthy royall towne Euersed be and ybrought to nought Why lyst ye not consyder in your thought How the Modres with their children smale In stretes shall with face dead and pale Lye murdred there through grekes cruelte And yonge maydens in captiuite Be wepe shall in myserye and wo. Their seruitute and this towne also So famous ryche alas it is pyte With grekes fyre shall destroyed be In shorte tyme sothly this no were Heleyne of vs alas is bought to dere Syth for her sake we shall euerychone Poore and ryche exceptyng neuer one An ende make wofull and pyteous The yre of them shal be so furious Vpon vs all there is none other meane Saue onely death vs to go betwene ¶ This was the noise and the pyteons crye Of Cassandra that so dredefully She gan to make aboute in euery strete Through y e towne whom euer she might mete Lyke as she had be out of her mynde Tyll Pryamus faste made her bynde And shytte vp it as the more routhe She was not harde albe she sayd trouth ¶ For neyther wysedome nor discrecion Counsayle nor wyt prudence nor reason Trouth nor rede withouten any lye Nor the spirite of trewe prophecye Auayleth not nor all suche sapyence In place where there is no audyence For be a man inly neuer so wyse In counsaylyng or in hyghe deuyse In workyng outher or in eloquence Eche thynge to se in his aduertence Or it be falle afore in his reason Amyd the eye of his discrecion Yet for all this it is the more dole Without fauour he holden is a fole For vnfauoured wisedome vayleth nought Neyther trouth how dere that it be bought As Cassandra for all her wyse rede Dispysed was and taken of no hede Of them of Troye to their confusyon But cruelly ythrowen in pryson Where as a whyle I wyll lette her dwelle And of grekes forth I wyll you telle ANd fyrst of all how Pallamydes Gan to grutche agaynst them y t chese He beyng absent kyng Agamenon To haue lordshyp or domynacyon On them all namely syth that he Was not worthy to suche dignite For to gouerne so great a myghty hoste Throughout the world come from euery cost Of kynges prynces so worthy of renowne For he therof had indignaciowne ¶ And sayd himselfe was of more poustee Amonge grekes and greater of degree Concludyng that by no maner weye To his power he ne wolde obeye In peace and werre as by subiection Syth he ne was at his election Platly affyrmyng how there were but thre Whan he was chose kynges of degre Where as thurty were that tyme absent For whiche he swore it was not his entent Nor accordyng with his opynyon ¶ In any wyse that Agamenon Of grekes shulde haue suche gouernaunce ¶ Lo what myschyefe lyeth in varyaunce Amonge lordes whan they not accorde For to drawe fully by one corde Enuye is cause of suche dyuysyon And couetyse of domynacyon That eueryche wolde surmounten his felowe This cursed vyse often hath withdrawe Hap and grace in many regyon For whan discorde and false discencion Allyed ben in hertes for to stryue Among lordes that kingdom may not thriue Tyll they reformed be agayne to peace Amonge them selfe playnely this no lease Of whyche thinge grekes token hede And thought not good ferther to procede In the matter that Pallamydes Ymeued had amonges all the prese And through their wyt they set all in quyete And made him his rancour for to lete And to accorde fully in his herte But nowe must I my style agayne dyuerte Vnto the werre and telle on the maner After the trewes how they mette yfeare LYke as the storye maketh mencion The worthy kyng the great Agamenon When the trewes were passed and ygone In all haste he gan ordeyne anone With all myght and waker dylygence Deuoyde of slouthe and all neclygence To sette his wardes full auysely ¶ And to Achylle he full prudently The fyrste warde cōmytteth for to lede And the seconde vnto Diomede The thyrde also to kyng Menelay And the fourth on the same daye ¶ He had Meneste the duke of Athene At his lodyng in stele armed clene And other wardes folowyng by and by Agamenon the kyng full manfully Ordeyned hath how they shall procede As he that was in all his worke and dede Full circumspect both in werre and peace ¶ And worthy Hector was not reckles To sette his wardes of them of the towne In knightly wyse of discreciowne And to Troylus so yonge freshe and lyght The fyrst warde with many lusty knyght He hath assygned and other wardes set So prudently they ne myght be no bet And forth in hast hym lyste no longer byde With many worthy rydyng by his syde Out at the gates he went of the towne Towarde grekes this Troyan champiowne And fyrst whan he sawe the fyerse Achylle He ne coulde no lenger kepe hym styll But smote his horse felly in the syde And towarde hym cruelly gan ryde The whiche thynge with a dispyteous eye Whan Achylles sothly gan espye Agayne Hector of manfull hardynesse With herte enuyous gan his stede dresse And in the fyelde together as they mette With rounde speres the poyntes kene whette At the encountryng of knightly excellence Eueryche other through great vyolence By very force bare other vnto grounde As full ofte it happeth and is founde Whan stronge doth mete with his peregall There is no more but eueryche had a fall But Hector fyrst of strength most assured His stede agayne hath anone recured And lefte Achylle tho of gentilnesse And in great hast forth he gan hym dresse Amonge grekes and where so that he rode He kylled and slewe all that hym with stode For w t his sworde he made their woūdes wide And through the brest some through the side He perced hath and waged them for euer And sheltroūs brake made them to disseuer For in his herte him thought it did him good To hath his sworde in the grekes bloud And this continued tyll that Achylles Caught his stede agayne amonge the prese And entred in amonges them of Troye And with his swerde he made large weye Sleeth and bare downe whom y t euer he met For there was none hardy hym to lette Tyll it befell in his melancolye ¶ Hector he mette rydyng sodainly And when they sawe eche other come a ferre Without abode eueryche caught a spere And ran together there was no more a reste ¶ But Hector fyrst smette him in the brest That his spere playnely this no tale All to shyuered into peces smale That Achilles of necessyte To grounde goth it wolde none other be And vnhorsed at the earth laye And Hector then in all the haste he may Enforced hym for to catche his stede
ouerflowe with a freshe deluge The winde also so sternly gan to blowe That their tentes standing on a rowe Forpossid were and ybeten downe And furyously to their confusyowne The flodê raught theÌ„ from their staÌ„ding place And bare theim forth froÌ„ thens a large space Wherof in myschyefe and in great distresse In great laboure and hertye heauynesse The grekes bydde all the same nyght What for the tempest and for lacke of lyghte Tyll the floude gan agayne withdrawe The wynde to appease and the day gan dawe And the heauen gan agayne to clere Without cloudes freshly to appere And Phebus eke with a feruent hete Had on the soyle dryed vp the wete And the moysture enuyrowne on the playne And grekes had their tentes sette agayne And were adawed of their nyghtes sorowe Through the apering of the glade morowe They them arayed nothynge for the peace And into fyelde fyrst went Achylles As ye shall here of entencyowne That daye to fyght w t them of Troye towne VVhan dryed was the lusty large playne w t Phebê° bemes as ye haue hard me sain The troian knightes full worthy of renowne Descended be and ycomen downe And in the fyelde toke their fyghtyng place But Achylles to mete them in the face Tofore went out lyke as I you tolde With his lordes and his knightes bolde And fyrst I fynde without more abode Vnto Hupon furyously he rode I meane Hupon that was of his stature Lyke a Gyaunt as bokes vs assure Whom Achylles with his sharpe spere Through the body perced him so fere That he fylle dead his wounde was so kene And after this the kynge Octamene As he fyersly on Hector wolde haue gone Without abode Hector hath slaine anone And cruelly quytte him his fatall mede And sodaynely agaynst Diomede ¶ As zantipus the worthy kyng gan drawe Full pyteously he of hym was slawe And ryght anone the kyng Epystrophus And eke the kyng that hyght Cedius Of one assent proudly in battayle Begonne Hector mortally tassayle And with a spere fyrst Epystrophus Ran at hym with herte despyteous And as Guydo also doth deuyse Rebuked him in vngoodly wyse At hym so sore in herte he was a meued Wherof Hector furyously agreued Hath mortally his wounde made so large That hym ne geyneth plate shelde nor targe For he fell dead amonge his men echone To whom Hector bad he shulde be gone And to the Furyes depe downe in helle Suche proude wordes amonges them to tell For here quod he men take of them no hede And thus whan he was waged for his mede ¶ Anone his brother called Cedyus Suche sorowe made for Epystrophus So hertye dole and so wofull chere That pytie was for to se and here So inwardely on his death he thought And with a thousande knightê y t he brought To be auenged by manhode of them all Despyteously on Hector he is fall Where he hym founde fyghtyng w t his foen That through the force of thâ—m euerycone So sore enuyrowne they haue him beset That froÌ„ his stede downe they haue him smit ¶ Whom Cedyus aye in his cruell rage Whan that he sawe to his ouauntage Hector vnhorsed and he on his stede His sworde he lefte of inwardly hatred Markynge at hym with so great a payne With all the force of his armes twayne Fully in purpose withouten more delaye To slea Hector playnly if he maye But or his stroke descende myght downe Hector of hate and indignaciowne With his sworde that was full sharpe whet From his shoulder hath his arme of smet And after that he reuyd hym his lyfe Than Eneas amyddes all this stryfe Came rydyng in ryght wood and furious And as he mette the kyng Amphymacus He fell on him and slewe hym in his rage And from the grekes holdyng their passage ¶ There be discended fyrst Menelaus ¶ And after him kynge Thelamonius ¶ The great duke also of Athene In whom there was so moche manhode sene Vlixes eke and cruell Diomede And eke also to helpe them in their nede There came with them the kyng Machaon And alderlast the great Agamenon With all their wardes and fell in sodeynly Vpon Troyans and they full manfully Diffende them selfe agayne the grekes proude And put them of full knightly as they coude And eche on other sothly as they mette With spere and sworde enuyously they sette So mortall hate there was them betwene And whan the sonne was merydyen In mydday angell passyng hote and shene The grekes gan felly in their tene So myghtely to falle on them of Troye That they them made for to geuen weye Of very force and necessytye ¶ And Achylles so full of cruelte Amonge the renges as he gan hym drawe The kyng Phylem enuyously hath slawe ¶ And amyd of grekes the same time Hector Maugre them all slewe kyng Alphenor ¶ And eke the kynge called Dorius On them he was so cruell and Irous That through vertue of his knyghtly honde Troyans wonne haue agayne their londe Vpon grekes and made them for to flee ¶ And thylke houre from Troye the Cite Epystrophus full of manlynesse The felde haue take through his worthinesse And on grekes proudely for the nones With his knightes he fauleth all attones And seuered them made them for to twinne And gan the fyelde fast vpon them wynne ¶ Hauyng that tyme in his companye Amonges other that he tho dyd guye ¶ A certayne archer the whiche as I fynde Was monstruous and wonderfull of kynde For from the myddell vp vnto the crowne He was a man and the remnaunt downe Bare of an horse lykenesse and fygure And horses heire this monstre in nature Had on his skynne growyng enuyrowne Full rough and thycke of his voice y e sowne Was lyke the neyhynge of an horse I reade And though his face both in length and brede Of shape were mannyshe yet in sothfastnesse His colour was semblable in lykenesse Vnto the fyry hoote brennyng glede Whose cyen eke flawmyng also reade As the blase is of an ouen mouthe And for he was in syghte so vnkouth Where soeuer he was met in the berde Both man and horse sore were a ferde His face was so hatefull and so odyble And his loke so hydous and horrible And aye he had in custome and vsaunce As in bokes is made remembraunce For to go vnarmed into fyelde Without sworde spere axe or shielde For he nothyng coulde of that myster But as I fynde he was a good archer And bare a bowe styffe and wonder stronge And for he was also of tyller longe His arrowes were lyke to his tyller In a bushment trussed wonder ner By his syde aye ready to his hande Where so he were outher on sea and lande And as I fynde how that none armure Agayne his shot playnly myght endure And there was horse stede nor couser That durst abyde nouther fer nor ner But fledde anone with all their full myght As fast as they of hym had a syght To them
to debate ¶ And Pryamus sothly to the gate Conueyed them at theyr out goynge And set their wardes this noble worthy king Full prudently through his sapyence And after gaue them congee and lycence Vpon grekes for to proue their myght Agaynst whom full redy for to fyght Their fomen were with royall apparayle Amyd the fyelde abydyng the battayle ¶ But Pryamus in the meane whyle Lyke as Guydo remembreth in his style For thylke fyne that ye haue herde me sayne To whothy Hector repayred is agayne Hym contermaundyng that he ne shuld gone Thilke day to fyght agayne their foen For whyche thynge of hygh despyte he brent Whan that he sawe other lordes went Out at the gate and he alone abode For whiche he wexed furyous and wood Hooly the cause arettynge to his wyfe That was of cheietie so tender of his lyfe Puttyng on her fully the occasyowne Of his abydynge that day in the towne In preiudyce of his worthynesse And disencrease of his hygh prowesse And leest through tongues to his hygh estate Through false reporte it were derogate He caste anone of a full knightly herte For lyfe nor death it shulde hym not asterte Within the fyelde that daye to be founde Though it so were w t many mortall wounde He shulde on peces hewen be a sonder Vpon the playne dismembred here yonder So hole in manhod was his herte sette That he anone without longer lette Agayne to arme hym was full dyligent Agayne the precept and commaundemente Of his father and rode on his waye For feare of whyche anone as she would deye His wife of newe crye gan and shoute And with her papes also hangynge oute Her lytell chylde in her armes twayne Tofore her lorde gan to wepe and playne Besechynge him of routhe and pyte If so he would vnto her sorowe se At the least for her wyfely trouthe That he of manhode haue in herte routhe Vpon his childe and vpon her also Whych that she bare in her armes two And not might him from criynge kepe Whan he sawe his wofull mother wepe And knelynge downe vnto him she sayde In her sobbynge as she might abrayde Mine owne lorde haue mercy now on me And on this lytell chylde whych that ye se So pyteously afore you wepe and crye Haue mercy lorde on vs or that we dye Haue mercy eke vpon this Cite Myne owne lorde haue mercy or that we By cruell death passe shall echone For lacke of helpe alas when ye are gone ¶ This was the crye of Andromecha With whom was eke her syster Cassandra ¶ Hecuba and fayre Pollycene And Heleyne eke the lusty freshe quene Which all atones fell him beforne With heyr vntrussed and weping all to torne And loude gan to crye in the place Besechynge him of mercy and of grace For thilke daye to abyde in the towne And in his hert to haue compassyowne On her complaynte and her wofull mone Sith all the truste of the towne alone In him abode and all the resystence Agaynst death he was their chiefe defēce And in him onely was their affiaunce Their suerte and their suffysaunce In eche thinge that theim might greue ¶ And yet all this ne might his herte meue For to abyde yet of goodlyheade They him besought to their womanheade He would encline his herded herte of stele That they might a lytell droppe fele Onely of pyte on their woo to rewe That lykly was to more and renewe Fynally to their destructiowne For of the Cite and lykewyse the towne His death in soth shulde fully be ruyne But yet all this might not him enclyne That he ne would out in conclusyon As indurate and harted as a Lyon He was alwaye continuinge in his rage Whose herte might as often nor aswage Nother prayer nor lamantacion Him to restrayne from his opinion For euery peryll he layde hath asyde And on his waye gan anone to ryde Where through his wife none other bote can But in her rage to the kinge she ran So amased in her mortall wo That she vnneth might speake him to So diffaced and rewefull of her sight That by her hewe knoweth her no wight For loste she had bothe might and strengthe And plat she fell to the grounde at length Tofore the kynge that routhe was to sene ¶ Besechinge him of entente full clene That he of grace consider wolde her wo For but he helpe Hector was ago And he seynge her faythfull womanhead At her request raughte anone his stede And pricked after onely for her sake In so great haste that he hath ouertake Worthy Hector within the Cite And hent his reyne with great difficulte And maugre him made him tourne agayne In suche wise he durst it not with sayne Albe that he was full lothe therto So that by prayer and by force also From his stede he made him to alyghte The areste of whom eschewe he ne myght For he ne would agayne his father striue Albe that he felte his herte ryue Of melancolye and of hertye yre And of disdayne newe set a fyre So inwardly stered was his blode That lyke a Tygre or a Lyon wood That were depriued newly of her praye Right so he fared all that ylke daye Or lyke a bore that his tuskes whette Whyle the Grekes and they of Troye mette Furyously walkynge vp and downe And in diffence sothly of the towne Troylus fyrste on his baye stede Of aduenture mette with Diomede And eche at other surquedous of pryde With sharpe speres gan togyther ryde And Guydo sayth without any dreade One or bothe had anone be deade Ne had Menelay knightly go betwene And after that in a furyous tene He smette his horse in full knyghtly wyse ¶ And Mereon the mighty kinge of Fryse Menelaus marked hath full well And wyth his swerde ful sharp groūd of stele Vnhorsed him and threwe hym on the grene For he the stroke might not tho sustene This Menelay was on him so wood That it was lykly euen there he stode With his lyfe he shoulde not thense eskape For the Grekes ful hastely theim shape This Meryon as ye haue herde me sayne For to be sette rounde vpon the playne And to cesse him by the auentayle On euery parte and cruelly to assayle All destytute in this wofull case ¶ But him to helpe came Pollydamas With his knightes and gan to nighe nere When he him sawe taken prysonere And maugre all that there vpon him sette From theyr handes Pollydamas him fette At whose reskues there was so great a strife That many one therfore loste his lyfe For Grekes rather then he shoulde escape From their handes in that hasty rape Caste theym playnly that he shoulde be dead Fully in purpose to haue hadde his head He stode of mischyefe in so great disioynt But him to selpe euen vpon the poynt ¶ Came Troylus in most knightly of arraye And of his manhod made suche affraye Amōges them in reskuse of this kinge That maugre theim at his in
hertes may not lightly staunshed be The Etike draweth by so great distresse That it defaceth the high worthynesse Full ofte sythe of these conqueroures And of theyr fame rente away the floures Desyre of hauynge in a gredy thuoght To hygh noblesse sothly longeth nought Nor suche pylfre spoylynge nor robberye Appartayne not to worthy chyualrye For couetyse and knighthod as I lere In one chayne maye not be knet yfere For kouthe it is that ofte suche rauyne Hath cause be and roote of ruyne Of many worthy who so lyst take hede Lyke as ye maye nowe of Hector reade That sodaynly was brought to his endynge Onely for spoylynge of this ryche kinge For of desyre to him that he hadde On horse backe out whan he him ladde Reklesly the storye maketh mynde He caste his shelde at his backe behynde To welde him selfe at more lyberte And for to haue oportunyte To spoyle him and for no wyght spare So that hys brest disarmed was and bare Except his plates there was no diffence Agayne the stroke to maken resistence Alas why was he tho so reckles This floure of knighthod of maÌ„hode pereles When that his foo all that ylke daye For him alone in awayte so laye If in mischiefe of hate or of enuye In the fielde he might him ought espye This Achilles cruell and venymous Of hertye moste melancolius Whych couertly houing him beside When that he sawe Hector disarmed ryde He hente a spere sharpe grounde and kene And of yre in his hatefull tene All vnwarely or Hector might aduerte ¶ Alas the while he smote him to the herte Throughout y e brest that dead he fel adowne Vnto the earthe this Troian champyowne Through neclygence onely of his shelde The death of whom when Odemon behelde The worthy kinge might hym not refrayne ¶ But to Achilles rode with all his payne And hit him so amyd of all the prese Maugre the might of his Myrmydones That for dead Guydo sayth certayne Of that wounde fel grofeling on y e playne But his knightes on a shelde alofte The ylayde him and caryed him full softe Vnto his tente in all the haste he can And there I leue this deadly wounded man Full sore sycke tyll he maye releue And after that when it drewe to eue They of Troye with great reuerence Did their laboure and theyr diligence The dead corps to carye into towne Of worthy Hector wheÌ„ Titan went adowne And to the temple dolefully they wende And of that daye this was the wofull ende I can no more but thus the longe night In heauinesse as it is skill and ryght I will theim leue and agayne retourne To my matter to helpe theym for to mourne ¶ The complaynte of Lydgate for the death of Hector Ca. xxviii BVt nowe alas how shal I forth procede In the storye that for wo and dreade Fele my hande bothe tremble and eke quake Oh worthy Hector onely for thy sake Of thy deathe I am so lothe to wryte Oh who shall now helpe me to endite Or vnto whom shall I clepe or call Certys to none amonge the muses all That by accorde singen euer in one On Pernasus besyde Helycon So aungelyke in theyr hermonye That tunge is none that may specifye The great swetenesse of theyr goodly songe For no discorde is founde theim amonge In theyr minsyke they be entuned so It sytte theim nought for to helpe in wo Nor in maters y t be with mourninge shente As tragydyes all to tore and rente In camplayninge pyteously in rage In the Theatre with a dead vysage To theim alas I clepe dare nor crye My troubled penne of grace for to guye Nother to Clyo nor to Callyope ¶ But to Alecto and to Thesyphone And to Megera that euer doth complayne As they that lyue aye in wo and payne Eternally and in torment dwell With Cerberus depe downe in hell Whom I must praye to be gratious To my matter which is so furyous For to a wyght that is comlaplayninge A drery feare is ryght well syttinge And to a matter meynt with heuynesse Accordeth well a cheare of drerynesse To be allyed as by vnyte ¶ Wherfore helpe nowe thou wofull Nyobe Some drery teare in all thy piteous payne Into my penne dolefully to rayne ¶ And helpe also thou cruelly Yxione And Belydes that dothe the bokette gone And with thy stone helpe thou Secyphus And in thy ryuer helpe eke Tantalus That for hunger haste so huge pyne This wofull playute helpe me for to fyne Me to further do your busynesse For now the stocke and roote of worthynesse Of knighthod grouÌ„d of maÌ„hod soures well That tofore all bare away the bell Of derrynge do this floure of high prowesse And was exaumple also of gentilnesse That neuer could do amisse or seye ¶ Alas Hector alas why shuldest thou deye Oh cruell Parchas why toke ye no hede So cruelly to twine his fatall threde Ye were to hasty alas why were ye so And namely when the threde ye brake a two Thou Attropos which thrugh thy gret enuye Oh Troye alas well mayst thou wepe crye And make a wofull lamentacion Whych haste of newe to thy confusyon Loste thy diffence and thy stronge wall Thy berer vp thy suertie royall By whom thy honour chiefely was begonne Alas alas for now thy bryght sonne Eclipsed is now standest thou desolate Of all comforte and disconsolate Thy lyght is loste and thou in dercknesse Yplounged arte for in sothefastnesse Of all worthy thou haste the worthyest This daye yloste and the knightlyest That is or was or shall I the ensure Be euer borne whylse the worlde may dure No wonder is though thou be wale sore And daye by daye complayne for euermore That was thy shelde bothe in ioye and wo Whom thou were wonte for to loue so So tenderly with all thy hole herte That it maye not lyghtly the asterte To haue him euer in thy remembraunce Which was in sothe fully thy suffysaunce ¶ For as Guydo maketh mencion There was no man dwellinge in the towne That he ne hadde of very kindenesse For loue of him as he lyste expresse His childe more lefe to haue dyed in this case Other his heyre so well beloued he was If the goddes fate or destyne Disposed had that it might haue be Women also of euery maner age Be for his deathe fall in suche a rage Through the Cite aboute in euery strete That with sobbinge and with salte tearê wete And heyre to rente for their deadly wo Furyously they ronnen to and fro So mortall was their aduersyte That to beholde alas it was pyte Yonge maydes and lykewyse matrones olde Sobbe and syghe and their fystes folde And loude crye and sayde fynally Alas nowe shall our fathers cruelly In our syght be slayne day by day Alas the while and no man shal say nay Farewell our helpe nowe Hector is ygone That in the surenesse of vs euerychone Was wonte to reste now is he dead alas ¶ Of
downe The wardes sought about enuyrowne ¶ Tyll at the laste Pallamydes he fonde With Sarpedon fyghtyng hande of hande Now was this king this worthi Sarpedown Come in defence of them of Troye towne Whiche of his hande was a noble knight And whyle that he with all his full myght ¶ Moste busy was Pallamydes to presse Lyke a Lyon whetted with woodnesse Pallamydes in herte not a ferde Let flye at hym with his sharpe sworde So myghtely that it was a wonder For he his thygh parted hath a sonder And smote of by the herde bone ¶ That Sarpedon fyll downe dead anone So that Troyans whan that he was slawe Were compelled of force them to withdrawe Through the pursuite of kyng Pallamydes Whiche vpon them was so merciles And as cruell as a wood Lyon ¶ After the death of kyng Sarpedon The whiche alas whan Parys dyd espye He marked hym with a cruell eye And hente a bowe that passyngly was strong And with an arowe to his tyller longe Entoxycat with venym in the head That whom he smote therwith was but dead And hytte hym so in the auentayle Throughout the stuffe and the thicke mayle Into the throte that it gan through pace That he fell dead in the selfe place ¶ Pallamydes this manfull worthy knight Where through Grekê toke them to the flight And made a noyse and a wofull crye The death complaynyng wonder piteouslye Of their lorde and myghty gouernour But late chose to be their Emperour Their chiefe socour and soueraine refute But now alas they stonde destitute Of gouernaunce broke and disarayed Without guyde ryght as shepe dismayed Disconsolate and comfortlesse yshent That eche of them flyeth vnto his tente And they of Troye sued on the chace On horsebacke a wonder huge pace And merciles slewe them as they fle On euery syde that pyte was to se Without mercy or any other grace For lyke the Lyons they gan them enchace Tyll they compelled of necessyte Constrayned were through their cruelte To tourne agayne and them selfe diffende And they of Troye downe anone discende Of horsebacke euen vpon the playne And attones there was none other gayne They gan the grekes proudely to outraye And cruelly do them so disamaye That fynally there gayneth no diffence So mortall was the mighty violence Of Troyans that Grekes so diffoyle And alderfyrste at leyser they dispoyle The grekes tentes of golde and rychesse At whiche time Troylus gan him dresse And Parys eke downe to their nauye With thirtye thousande in their companye Kyllyng all tho playnly that they mette And on their shyppes wylde fyre they sette That to the wall of Troye the Cyte Men myght well the hydous flawme se ¶ And all had gone to destruction Ne had Ayax ycalled Thelamon Through his manhode knyghtly excellence Come anone and made resystence Of the grekes with many worthy knyght And tho of new began the mortall fyght Atwene Troyans and the grekes stoute The red bloud raylyng all aboute Vpon the playne so hydously they blede And here and there both in length and brede Dead and maymed and full pale of syght Vpon the soyle full many noble knyght Atwyxe them so cruell was the hate For in their fyght togyther they debate As wylde bores euen so they fare For none of them lyste other for to spare And in the fyelde worthy Thelamowne Through his knyghthod his high renowne So manly bare hym grekes to deffende That no maÌ„ might in manhode him amende Thrugh all y e world though men had sought For he that day in his person hath wroughte Meruailes in armes thrugh his great might That in sothnesse Grekes anone ryght Without hym had fynally be shent And their shyppes attones loste and brent Through the pursuite of Parys that day ¶ And worthy Troilus y t made such affraye Amonges them through hygh prowesse That fyfty shyypes Guydo doth expresse Were loste and brent or that Thelamowne To reskus came with his knightes downe Vnto the sea the remenaunt for to saue But for all that Troyans that daye haue The hygher hande of this mortall fyght Through the force and the great myght Of Troylus only which hath so many slaine Of the grekes in soth that they were fayne Them to withdrawe and the fielde to lete For in abydyng they fonde full vnswete Wherfore they gan for to lese their place ¶ Amonge which the kinges sonne of Trace That Heber hyght wounded to the death That he ne myght vnneth drawe his breth With a spere in his breste styckynge ¶ To Achylles he came in complaynyng Vnto his tent euen there he laye Whiche in the fyelde was not all that daye ¶ For the sake onely of Pollycene The loue of whom was so sharpe and kene Aye at his herte ylyke grene and newe To whom Heber with a mortall hewe Complayneth sore arrettyng cowardyse And in manhode a very trewandyse That he that day myght so for shame Withdrawe him selfe in hindring of his name Out of the fyelde to hym full great reprefe Of the grekes seynge the mischiefe That they were in and confusyon Vpon the brinke of their destruction Abrode the fielde to se them so lye deade And lyste not ones for to take hede Of his knyghthode grekes to releue ¶ And whyle Heber gan hym thus repreue And the spere whiche in his body was All sodaynly was drawen out alas With Eye vp caste in rancoure and in yre Full pyteously Heber dyd expyre ¶ In the presence of this Achylles And therwith came in a sodayne res Into his tente a certayne knyght of his ¶ Of whom Achylles axeth how it is Amonge the grekes and clerely how it stode And he answered full Irours in his mode Certes quod he full vnhappely For they of Troye haue so cruelly Our grekes all this daye in their fyght Full shamefully put vnto the flyghte So many slayne alas and welawaye That vnneth none escape myght awaye Vnhurte maymed or withouten wounde So fell on vs Troyans were yfounde And of them eke was suche multitude That I suppose shortely to conclude This daye there was to my opynyowne Not lefte a man within Troye towne That able was to stande in battayle With spere or sworde his enmye to assayle I Wene in soth but they byn come out With vs to fyght there was so huge a route That we ne myght of force take on hande In the fyelde agaynst them for to stande ¶ But nowe my lorde it draweth vnto night That they be faynte any more to fyght If it were pleasyng to your worthynesse To your manhode and your hygh noblesse To take on you to your encrese of fame For euermore to getten you a name And there withall for your owne glorye Perpetually to be in memorye To ryse vp and arme you anone And sodaynely vpon them to gone Feble and weake to make resystence Agaynst your manly famous excellence There were no more but we were victours For eâ—er more and very conquerours Duryng the worlde to
death and destruction On grekes halfe withouten remedye To Troye sent by enbassadrye For a trewse certayne dayes space But he myght therof haue no grace Lenger tyme platly to endure Then for leyser of the sepulture Of worthy knyghtes that were dead aforne In the fyelde on outher party lorne Whiche in the Taas full busyly they soughte And after this plainly how they wrought Durynge the syege with great vyolence I shall descryuen with your pacyence ¶ Howe Achylles slewe the worthy Troylus vnknyghtly after trayled his body through the fyelde tyed to his horse Cap. xxxi THe cruell force and mortall yre Of martyrs myght alway set a fyre With newe enuye gonne of olde hatrede Brennyng in hertes hole as any glede Atwyxe grekes and them of Troye cytye Whiche lykely is not staunched for to be Tyll deth consume with mortall darte Full many worthy vpon outher parte To execute alas by fynall fate On eyther parte the enuious deadly hate Whiche they ne myght by destyne remewe For it was set it nedely must insewe And Attropos wyll suffer it none other That maystresse is guyder of the rother Of deathes shyp tyll all goth vnto wrake And fortune gan tourne her face abake Of highe disdayne fro Troye the cytye As in this story shortly ye shall se For whan the trewse that they had ytake Were wered out they gan them redy make The proude grekes and into fyelde they gone Vpon a morowe whan Phebus bright shone Armed full shene eueryche at his deuyse ¶ And Menelay hath first met with Paris That day in storye as I read And eche of them smytte other of his stede At whiche tyme Dan Pollydamas ¶ To Vlixes rode a sterne pase And eche at other of cruell enmyte With styffe swordes gan together flee That nouther was of manhode for to wyte And with a spere squared for to byte ¶ The myghty Duke called Meneste Rode lyne ryght that all myght it se To Anthenor the Troyan full of pryde And from his sadell caste hym downe asyde In his furye and his hatefull tene And tho in haste come kyng Phylomene Only in helpe of them of the towne And gan assayle kyng Agamenowne Through his knyghthode and his hardinesse That he hym had brought in great distresse To vtter myschyefe and confusyon ¶ Ne had be only that kyng Thelamon Full proudely came hym for to reskewe And after sore gan for to pursewe With a spere vpon Phelomene And for his horse he layde hym on the grene Maugre his force the story telleth thus For he to hym was mortally yrous And after that yonge Archylogus A mortall course ran vnto Brumius One of the sonnes of Pryamus the kynge Yonge and delyuer and beste in lykyng But he hym smytte with so great a myght That he fell dead this freshe lusty knyght The death of whom whā they of Troy espye They made a shoute and pyteously gan crye Of wofull routhe and his death complayne Tyll the noyse gan vtterly attayne To Troylus eares platly where he rode And he no lenger after that abode But to the place felly gan approche And with his sworde for to sette a broche Without routhe the grekes hatefull bloud And mercyles all that hym withstode He slewe that daye by cruell auenture That greke was none y t which might endure Tofore his sworde he gan them so oppresse For of knyghthode and of hygh prowesse He had them put vtterly to flyght Ne had byn the manhode and the myght ¶ Of Myrmydones which al that longe day By one assent vpon Troylus lay Wherof he was full melancolyus And of courage and manhode moste famous He ne lyste no longer for to lette But all attones vpon them he sette And furyously gan amonge thē ryde And some he smote euen through the syde Through the body and some through y e herte And w t his sworde thrugh doublet the shert Through shelde plate and thrugh haberion He perccd hath and lyke a wood lyon He slewe that day of them many one That maugre them they fledde eueryche With the grekes eueryche to his tent ¶ And they of Troy after them he went Swyftly on horse tyll they haue them take And such a slaught of grekes ther they make That fynally there was a bette reskuse But only death so passyngly confuse The grekes were at myschyefe desolate Troylus so narowe brought thē to chekmate That they coulde tho no better remedye But hydously for to wayle and crye To death forwounded with a grisely chere ¶ That Achylles whan he gan fyrst to here The dredefull noyse and the wofull sowne That caused was by reflectiowne Of eyre agayne who so coulde it knowe In rochys harde and in kauernes lowe Lyke as it were one worde spoke of two That men are wont to callen an Ecco So confuse was the lamentaciowne On grekes syde of whiche the deadly sowne So pyteously to Achylles is ronne Of them that lay agayne the hote sonne With mortall woundes yeldyng vp the breth With roumble swowhe resownyng into deth Such a noyse grekes maden there And what it ment Achylles dyd enquere And what the cause was of their clamour And they him tolde for lacke of socour The grekes were eche in his tentorye ¶ Of Troylus slayne so that the victorye Goth fynally with them of Troye towne For euermore in conclusyowne So many greke slayne laye in his tent Gapynge vpwarde w t his bloud yspent Through the constreynt of his wounde smert ¶ And whyle Achilles gan their case aduerte Full sodaynely there came to hym a man The whiche his tale euen thus began Alas quod he how may ye thus sustene To se your men hereupon the grene Afore your face slayne and lye deade And lyste not ones for to take hede But stande styll pensyfe in your tent Vpon the poynt your selfe to be shent In hasty houre yf ye here abyde For fyfty thousande knyghtes here besyde Redy armed in plates and in mayle Caste them playnly you for to assayle This no doubte vnarmed as ye stande But ye of knyghthode manly take on hande Them to resyste in this selfe place And lyke a man to meten in the face ¶ For whiche anone in a cruell mode This Achylles lyke as he were woode Hath armed hym fomyng as a bore Farewell his loue he sette of it no store Of hasty hete his yre was so kene ¶ That he forgat fayre Pollycene And her beaute y t whylom made him smert And in a rage vp anone he starte And toke his stede as any Lyon wroth Agayne Troyans and into fyelde he goth Lyke a wolfe that is with hunger gnawe Ryght so gan he agayne his foen to drawe And where he rode without excepciowne He woundeth sleeth killeth and bereth downe Now here now there in a lyttle throwe That they of Troy gan his sworde to knowe Whiche was infecte of newe with their bloud For there was none as yet y t him withstode So mortally he gan
mansyons And they of Troye dyspeyred ouer all No refute could Grekes for to let But of assent fast theyr gates shette And all the nyght on the walles wake And ouer this suche a wo they make Through the Cyte that Parys was so dead For fynally nowe they can no reade But wepe and crye and sorowe euer in one NOwe al y e sonnes of Priamê° were gone Fortune alas hath theim so appeyred That of theyr lyfe they be nowe dyspeyred Of all hope and of good welfare Perpetually for to lyue in care Vnto the death and that was faste bye For nowe there is no maner remedye Vpon no syde nor refute none at all But theym to kepe close wythin the wall That for to se it was a pyteous thynge ¶ And suche a wo maketh now the kynge ¶ For Parys death that for deadly smerte Hym thought platly that his wofull herte Recureles would brast and ryue a tweyne And into teares he gan dystylle and reyne As he would tho for very sorowe deye ¶ And of the quene alas what shall I seye ¶ Hecuba his owne mother deare That crieth wepeth with a woful cheare ¶ Of Pollycene that was so wo begone And of his systren also euerychone That haue theyr heir theyr clothes torne As yf they had theyr owne death ysworne For drery wo and for pyteous peyne ¶ But for by all the fayre quene Heleyne Wayleth cryeth with a deadly cheare That her eyen whych whylom were so cleare Forderked were with dolefull teares smerte And to the corps sodaynly she sterte And clypped yt in her armes twayne And pyteously embrace it and restrayne Lyke as she would with him dye anone For styll she laye dombe as any stone As marbyll colde her lymmes craumpishing Redy at all towarde her buryinge Tyll men by force from the corps her hent And she her heyr and her chekes rente As tho she had be fallen in a rage That chaunged was alas in her vysage Her natyfe coloure and her rody hewe Whylom as freshe as any rose newe Nowe is she lyke vnto ashes colde And wyth her handes aye togyther folde Her selfe she smote on her pale face And euer amonge the corps she did embrace In her swownes as she fell to grounde Twenty tymes and wept full his wounde Wyth wo she was awhaped and amate Of all comforte alas disconsolate In herte beynge inly desyrous Through her rage passynge furyous To dye attones with her owne knyght For towarde death enclosed was her syght As she that lyst to lyue nowe no more ¶ And as I trowe that neuer man before No woman sawe fall in suche distresse In suche disioynt of deadly heuynesse Nor for no wo so pyteously yraue Not Cleopatre goynge to her graue Nor wofull Tesbe that fro the kaue sterte Whan she her selfe smote vnto the herte ¶ Nor the faythfull trewe Orestylle When that she sawe her lord agayne her will ¶ Marcus Prolancus vnto shyppe gone And for his loue fell downe dead anone ¶ Nor the sorowe of trewe Iulia ¶ Nor the feruence of faythfull Porcia Of whych the one fell dead sodaynly For she sawe bloud spent so cruelly On her lordes dredfull gardment ¶ And Portia so trewe in her entent When that her lorde Brutus lost his lyfe For bycause she myght haue no knyfe Wyth rolys red slewe her selfe alas Was not also in the selfe case ¶ Arthemysya quene of Tarse londe Of Mausalus the graue whan she foude Her owne knyght of whose bones smale Full wofully and wyth a cheare pale She poudre made dranke it euery morowe ¶ But all the wo and the furyous sorowe Of these echone yet may not atteyne ¶ Vnto the sorowe of the quene Heleyne That fynally wyll her selfe fordo For Parys sake whom she loued so For after him she wyll not lyue a daye But be awreke playnly yf she maye Vpon her lyfe rather than dysseuere And thus in wo aye she doth perseuere In her herte Parys sat so depe ¶ Alas who sayth that women can not wepe Yes doubtles they haue it of nature Though it so be that they no wo endure Yet can they fayne and salte teares fynde Plenty ynough of thryr owne kynde And sorowles morne and compleyne ¶ I saye not this for the quene Heleyne That was wyth wo wounded to the herte That fro the death she wende not sterte For deathes darte her herte made ryue And yet she rose agayne fro death to lyue Onely by grace for all her fell rage For euery wo by processe must aswage And ouer gone and wasted by myracle For eche venym made is some Tryacle And euery wo hath his remedye ¶ For though Heleyne as tho fayn wold dye Her kynde ne would assent yet therto So sodaynly to slea her selfe for wo. She was a woman no man shulde her wyte Me lyste no more of her wo endyte Lest vnto you that it were tedyous To heren all her paynes furyous Her cruell wo and lamentacion Whych would meue to compassyon In very sothe to wryte euerydele Any herte though it were made of stele ¶ For kynge Pryam and the quene also Had suche routhe of her pyteous wo To se her wepe and furyously complayne That they of her felte as much payne ¶ As they dyd almost for hym Parys ¶ Herof no more for Pryam by deuyse After this rage and this mortall wo Amyd the Temple sacred to Iuno Ordayned hath with full busy cure For the corps a ryche sepulture And in all haste therin made it shette That in sothenesse if I should not lette To tell all the rytes and the gyse That there were made in theyr paynim wise And the costes of his buryinge It should be all to longe a taryinge Ceryously theron to abyde Wherfore as nowe I let ouerslyde Their paynim rites supersticious ¶ Howe Pantisilia quene of Amazonis comming in ayde of the Troians was slayne by Pyrrhus Achylles sonne Ca. xxxiiii ANd telle I wyll how kyng Priamus CoÌ„mauÌ„ded hath of mischyefe of nede Through Troye towne onely of very drede To shytte theyr gates strongly as they maye And therupon both by nyght and daye To kepe watche for shortly they of Troye Dysconsolate of all theyr olde ioye Can no refute but wepe and sorowe make For they ne durst no more vndertake Agayne Grekes into felde to gone ¶ Tyll on a daye kynge Agamenon His messager by good auisement To Pryamus into Troye hath sent Requyrynge him of manhode lyke a knyghte To yssue out wyth Grekes for to fyght As he was wonte wyth his chyualrye ¶ But kynge Pryam his axinge gan denye And shortly sayd to him that was sent That he ne would at his assignement Not ones passe the gates of the towne But at his owne free electiowne Whan euer him lyst without compellynge ¶ And yet in sothe cause of his taryinge ¶ Was for the hardy quene of Femynye Towarde Troye that fast gan her hye Out of her lande and lyttell regyon The whych as bokes
knyghtes all So secretly no man myght espye And trayterously he gan hym for to hye Vpon the walles the selfe same nyght And towarde grekes gan to shewe a lyght Where as they laye tofore Tenedowne Redy armed to falle vpon the towne And whan they had this sodayne light espyed On horse backe anone they haue them hyed Towarde Troye armed clene at all And in they went by the same walle Whyche for the horse was but late broke And mortally for to be a wroke The knyghtes eke in the stede of brasse Haue with them met a full sterne pace And gan anone throughout the Citye On euery halfe for to kylle and slea With bloudy sworde vpon euery syde And made their woundes brode large wide Whyle they alas no thinge aduertynge At mydnight houre abedde lay slepynge Full innocent and thought not be good All forbathed in their owne bloude Bothe man and childe without exception The grekes sparynge no condicyon Of olde nor yonge woman wyfe nor mayde ¶ That with the crye Pryamus abrayde Out of his slepe and sodeynely awoke Whiche laye all nyght and no hede ne toke Of the slaughter nor murther in the towne ¶ But tho he wiste that there was treasowne Falsely compassed vnto his cytee By Anthenor and also by Enee Of whose malys he was no more in doubte For the venym was now taken oute And now the galle of conspyracion That vnder sugre of symulacion Hath so longe closed be and hyd In dede is nowe execute and kyd And nowe the fraude fully of treason The castes also of false collusyon Be raked out and abrode yblowe And the auctours openly yknowe ¶ Now hath enuye and contryued hate Of their engyne sette abrode the gate Now hate deceyte and olde conspyracye And fayned othes all of one allye All openly shewed theyr falsenesse And disclosed all their doublenesse So farre abrode that nowe is there no geyne For nowe alas the wylde fyre is seyne In towers hye with the wynde yblased Wherof Pryam astoned and amased All awaped sterte out of his bedde And comfortelesse to the temple is fledde Of Apollo to saue hym yf he myght And aye the flawme of the fyres bryght Brent in the towne and consumeth all The ryche byldynge whylom so royall That the walles with the rofes huge Couered with lede for a chyefe refuge Were now alas bare and bareyne makyd The grekes aye with their swordes naked Murdre and slea where so that they go That twenty thousande they y t nyght and mo There kylled haue longe or it was day And in this slaughter and this great affraye Spoyle and robbe and take what they finde Treasour and good and lefte not behynde By myghty hande and sturdy vyolence And the temples without reuerence They haue despoiled throughout al the town And gredely rent and raced downe Of golde and syluer the ornamentes all Tofore the goddes foule mote them fall ¶ Kynge Pryam aye with a deadly chere To Apollo makyng his prayer Furyously this deadly wofull man As he in soth that no reade ne can BVt wayte his death his fatall eure And Cassandra that holy creature Of inwarde wo desyrous to sterue Complaynynge hyed vnto Mynerue Makynge to her a lamentaciowne With other gentyll women of the towne And there alas as they wolden dye Full pyteously they sobbe wepe and crye And in their dole there I lette them dwelle For all there sorowes if I shulde do telle In this storye and theyr wo discryue My dulled penne of ruthe shulde also rite riue ¶ Rehersynge eke howe in euery strete Their clothes blacke redy moyste and wete As they alas both in one and all On their lordes downe aswone fall With their bloude be dewed and ysprent Where men may see the crystall teares meynt Of their wepynge in their woundes grene That laye and blede agayne the sonne shene With deadly eyen castynge vp the whyte It were but vayne their wofull case to wryte Nor the maner of their mortall sorowe ¶ But Guydo wryt that the same morowe How Anthenor and with him false Euee Conueyed haue throughout the cyte The myghty Grekes vnto Ilyon The royall toure and ryche mansyon That whylom was of most excellence In the whiche they founde as tho no dyffence Of hyghe nor lowe nor of none estate For it was lefte alone all desolate With all the golde and rychesse of the towne Shet and enclosed in the chyefe dongeowne But there was no man that withstode They brake the lockes raught away y e good And the treasure that was shet within Eche for his partie that he might wyn They gaue no force who was lyfe or loth ¶ And Pirrhus after to the temple goth Of Appollo by great cruelte And fell on Pryam knelyng on his kne And with his sworde furyously and wood Tofore the aulter shadde there his bloud So hye raught both in length and brede What the streames of his woundes redde That the statute of golde borned bryght Of this Apollo for all his great might For all his power and his sterne face Defouled was and pollut all the place Onely by death of this worthy kynge By Pirrhus slaine while he lay knelynge Of olde hatred and olde enuyous pryde Whyle Anthenor and Enee stode besyde That routhe was and pytye to beholde To se him lye on the stones colde So pyteously tofore the aulter blede Wherof alas when Hecuba toke hede And her fayre doughter Polycene With heire to rent as any golde wyer shene Inly supprysed with sorowe to the herte When they began consider and aduerte The noble kinge with bloudy streames red All for drowned his eyen derke and dead With Pirrhus sword girte thrugh outher side For mortall feare they durst not abyde But inwardly through darted with the sight All in a rage toke them to the flyghte And yet in so the through out the Cite They wyste neuer whytherwarde to flee Rescuse was none nor no remedye Of kynne nor friende nor of none allye With grekes sworde the towne was so be sette And in her flight this wofull quene hath met Eneas causer of all this wrake Vnto whom rebukynge thus he spake Oh thou traytour most malycious Thou false serpent adder enuyous Croppe and roote fynder of falsenesse Soures and well of vnkyndenesse How myghtest thou in thy hande fynde Vnto thy kynge to be so vnkynde Gynner and grounde example of treason And fynall cause of our destruction How myghtest thou deuoyde of all pytye Beholdynge alas through thy cruelte Of the kynge shedde so the bloude That euer hath byn so gentyll and so good So gracious lorde specially to the. And ouermore throughe his highe bounte They honoured and ymagnefyed All his lyfe it may not be denyed That lyeth now dead in the temple alas Thou were not onely traytour in this case But to his death conspyrynge and vnkynde Pirrhus conueying where he shuld him finde Tofore Apollo myddes of this cyte Where thou shuldest of very duetye Rather haue byn his
the prise There will no man replye that is wise He were to feble in his opynion ¶ And while Vlixes was with Alphenon It was to him made relacyon Of an hatefull conspiratyon That certayne lordes enuyron his countre Rauishe would his quene Penolope Maugre all tho that were there agayne Albe that she was euer ylyke playne In her trouthe stedfaste as a wall Yet they haue caste platly that she shall Be take of force it maye not be eschewed But it so be in haste she be reskued For they them caste the time not aiourne For daye and nighte with her they soiourne Inly in herte for loue disamayde But of wisedome she hath theim so belayde There was none so manly nor so sage That could of her get auauntage So aduyse s he was in her workynge And when Vlixes conceyueth all this thinge And fully knewe by open euydence And had also in specyall credence ¶ Sente vnto him fro Penolope The matter hole declarynge in secretee ¶ His owne sonne Thelamonius He wexe in herte wood and furyous And would make no dylacyon ¶ But in all haste besoughte Alphenon The mighty kinge of his high bounte To releue him in his aduersyte And that he would through his mighty hāde Of gentillesse conueye him to his lande He graunteth him and saye not ones naye And both two in ful great araye Toke the sea when the winde was good Well fortuned for nothinge theim withstode They be ariued and had no lettynge Where Vlixes as ye haue herde was kinge And secretly in a night they were conueyed To them that haue his ligaunce disobeyed And mercyles or they might awake In theyr beddes they haue theim all take Makynge no prolongyng tyll on the morowe But in all haste for no wight durst thē borow Smet of theyr heades by iudgement fynall And set theim vpon the castell wall Eueriche by other endlonge the rowe Vpon the toure when the cocke gan crowe And thus all nyght they kept theim selfe close Till that Phebus meryly arose In the Orient when the larke songe And tho these kinges w t theyr meyne strōge Freshly besene entre the cetee Who was so glad but Penolope Who made ioye but this goodly quene Full desyrous her owne lorde to sene ¶ But if I should all in ordre sette The great myrthe they made when they met Make rehersayle of complayntes olde And how they gan theyr hertes to vnfolde Eche to other and lyst nothinge concele And the gladnesse that they inly fele If I shulde put all in memorye The reioysynge and the hertye glorye That his lyeges made at his comynge The coste eke they had at his metynge The giftes great and presentes ryche In all this worlde I trowe none ylyche It were to longe taryinge for my boke And how that he newe assuraunce toke Of his lordes and lyeges all And how that they to his grace fall The cheare he made eke to Alphenowne Of gentylnesse through his high renowne And how the doughter inly debonayre Of Alphenon Nausica the fayre By Vlixes medyacyon Ywedded was vnto Thelamon Borne by discent there may no man saye nay To reioyce his crowne after his daye And thus came in by his purueyaunce Of two reygnes the myghty allyaunce And how all this brought was to the knotte Men would deme playnly me to sotte To presume of opynyon For to delate a descripcyon Sythen Guydo touchinge but the chyefe In this matter of stile was but brefe ¶ Shortly rehersynge how kinge Alphenon Repeyred is home to his regyon And Vlixes in his chiefe cyte Abode styll with Penolope Where I him leue in ioye and in solace Till Attropos liketh to purchase For to fyche fynally the date The threde to vntwine of his liues fate ¶ How the translatour wryteth the stocke of Pirrhus by lyneall dyscent and how his father hight Pelleus and his graundmother called Thetydes Ca. xxxviii NOw must I full busy be a while To directe the traces of my stile In discriuinge shortly of entente The stocke of Pirrhus by lyneall discente Myn Auctour folowe and be compendious ¶ Whos 's olde father hyght Pelleus His graundmother called Thetydes Of whych two came worthy Achilles That at Troye by treason lost his lyfe And Dardanica called was his wife ¶ Pirrhus mother and doughter as I reade Vnto the kynge called Lychomede ¶ Hauinge a father that Atastus hight Whych in sothnesse all that euer he myght ¶ Bare heauy herte to kinge Pelleus To Achilles and also to Pirrhus To all the kyn playnly on that side And of malyce rancour and of pryde And of enuye in an hatefull rage ¶ When Pelleus fall was in age He berafte him both sceptre and crowne And from his see lowe alight him downe And into exyle auayle maye no stryfe He made him go with Thetydes his wyfe Of high disdayne gayne maye no grace And in his herte gan daye and night cōpace The death of Pyrrhus kepe him if ye can And therupon maliciously began To shape a waye by awayte lyinge Him for to sley at his home comynge But this Pyrrhus from his treynes free Many daunger escaped of the sea Many wawe and many tempest wood With great losse both of men and good At Malasus alderfyrst gan londe A stronge Cyte a lytell from the stronde Where that he was refreshed wonder wele And there he knewe grounde and euery dele Fyrste of Thexyle lyke as men him tolde ¶ Of Thetides and Pelleus the olde And how Atastus bare to him hatrede Vnto the death wherof he gan drede And thought he would as he y t was right wise By some engyne eschewe his malyce And therupon do his busy payne ¶ Now had Atastus other sonnes twayne ¶ Menalippus and Polistenes And a doughter ycalled Thetydes And all this whyle wofull Pelleus In a castell olde and ruynous With Thetydes full of sorowe and care For dread of death daye and night gan dare Dispeyred in his vnweldy age Recure to fynde of this mortall rage Except that he had an hope of yore That Pyrrhus shoulde helpe him and restore At his repeyre when so that it fall After whose comynge often he gan call The tyme curse that he so longe abode But when Pyrrhus all this vnderstode At Malasus by relacyowne Ful faste he gan haste out of the towne Toke the sea and fast gan him hye Towarde the lande called Thesalye Of entent to make ordynaunce On Atastus for to do vengeaunce But alder fyrste this Pyrrhus ful prudent Espyes twayne he tofore hath sent To Thesalye forth togyther gone ¶ And Crilippus named was the tone And Adrastus named was his fere They were expert theim nedeth not to lere In whose exployte to more auauntage ¶ This Pyrrhus hath dyrecte his message Of Thesalye to a cytezyne Called Assandrus a maner chamberlayne With Pelleus and whilom ful secree While he was flourynge in felycytee And when Pyrrhus in conclusyon Knewe all the sothe by relacyon On sea nor lande hym ne lyst to