tene Therfore to Appollo she myght vp offred be By sacryfyce to please his deyte With deth agayne to make recompence Right as by deth firste was the offence This grekes muste vtterly fulfyll If they desyre for to haue at wyll The large see to sayle in quyete And Pyrus tho in a Furyous hete Gan enquere aboute of euery man For Polycene but no wyght tell can Of hir a worde nor shortly where she was Saufe some sayde how that Eneas And Anthornor hadde hyd hir pryuely Wherof there rose amonge them sodaynely Suche a grutchynge of grekes all aboute Of theyr lyfe that they were in doute So inwardly this thynge they toke at grefe Tyll Anthenor god gyue hym euyll prefe That may of treason as wardeyne bere the keye To shewe out his malys euery weye So longe hath sought tyll in a chaumbre olde He hath hir founde and the grekes tolde And brought hir forth vnto theyr presence By cruell force and hatefull vyolence Without pyte or compassion And hir delyueryd to Agamenon And he alas by hasty Iugement Without respyte or auysement Shortly hath dempte that she shal be dede That was flourynge in hir maydenhede And for to do excepcyon She was assygned by Agamenon Vnto Pyrrus and he of Tyrannye Ladde hir forth and fast gan hym hye To the place where she shulde deye Great was the prease that in the weye Gan Croude and shoue to beholde and sene This yonge mayde fayre Polycene That for hir beaute and hir semlynesse Hir womanhede and excellent fayrenesse Of all yfere whan they toke hede They hadde routhe that she shal be dede Without gylte or any more trespace Where men may se vpon many face The salte terys faste fall downe Of very pyte and compasâ—yowne For man nor childe was none so harde of herte But he felte for hir sake smerte Hir goodly face whan they beholde and se And fayne wolde if it myght haue be Delyuered hir of very force anone From Pyrrus hoÌ„de but for they wende echone Without hir deth neuer to haue repayre Into Grece nor the weder fayre As Calchas hadde made suggestyon And brought them all in oppynyon And at the laste whan this Polycene Of dede and wyll a very mayde clene Was to the graue of Achylles brought She kneleth downe with an humble thought Caste vp hir Eye and gan syghe ofte And to the goddes humbly and softe With dredfull herte and deuocyon Made in this wyse hir lamentacyon OYe almyghty that in this worlde gouerne And euery thynge consydre discerne By whom this worlde so huge large rounde Bothe eyer and see heuen and eke the grounde At your deuyse with a worde was wrought And soth fastly knowe euery thought Right as it is of euery maner wyght Without lettynge so persynge is your syght That no thynge is concelyd nor ywrye From the beholdynge of your eternall eye And euery thynge may attones se Vpon my soule haue mercy and pyte And of your grace and benygne cure Vpon my woo and pyteous auenture Haue some routhe now that I shall deye My wofull spirite to lede and conueye Where as you lyste nowe that I shall pace For vnto you in this selfe place I me confesse with all humylyte That hethertowarde I haue in chastyte Lade all my lyfe and kept my maydenhede In your seruyse bothe in thought and dede In porte in chere and in countenaunce Or for feture of any dalyaunce With one mysloke I neuer yet abrayde So that in sothe I dye shall a mayde As ye well knowe of synne all innocent Though I be nowe dempt by Iugement For to be deed without gylte at all Wytnesse on you that be inmortall Clene of entent of that I am accusyd And yet alas I may nat be excusyd But that the swerde of vengeaunce mustebyte Routheles whiche am no thynge to wyte But stonde clere and pure of all offence And discharged in my conscyence I dare afferme and fully gylteles Touchynge the murdre of worthy Achylles Whiche slewe my brother and after louyd me And is nowe cause of myne aduersyte And yet in wyll dede worde nor thought Vnto his deth assentaunt was right nought But therof was right sory in my herte Albe that I may nat now asterte For to be deed oonly for his sake On me alone vengeaunce shal be take Without mercy in full cruell wyse With my blode to make sacryfyâ—e To the goddes theyr wrathe for to queme O people blynde in sothe amys ye deme Agaynst me your herte is so cruell To mercyles to Yrous and to fell Without routhe to mykell Indurate To slee a mayde alone desolate Out of your herte alas pyte is gone Harder in trouthe than outher stocke or stone And more cruell in your oppynyon Forlacke of pyte than Tygre or Lyon Certes ye be greatly for to blame And oughte therof for to haue great shame To assent to so foule a dede To slee a mayde quakynge in hir drede And graunte hir none oportunyte For to be wepe hir virgynyte That of this cruell this pyteous wreche My blode your gylte hereafter shall apeche And accuse also your great enuye To the goddes that shall iustefye Euery vnright bothe of hye and lowe Full egally and make to be knowe The trouthe playnely spare and no degree But make open that is now secree I saye nat this nor my selfe complayne To haue reders of my fatall payne For deth is now more welcome vnto me Than is my lyfe and more I take at gree Sythen my brether most worthy of renowne Be slayne all and buryed in this towne My Fader deed in his vn weldy age And I alone lefte in all this rage And haue abyde pyteously to se Fynall ruyne now of this Cyte Whiche at my herte sytteth now so sore That leuer I haue than to wepe more Dye attones in reles of my woo Sythe all my kynne is passed and agoo Longer to lyue were to me a deth For better is here to yelde vp the breth Than to be lad out of this Cyte Amonge straungers to lyue in pouerte O Deth welcome and longer lette Thy dredefull darte to fyle to whette My tendre herte therwith all to ryue Agayne thy myght I shall neuer stryue Now is tyme to kythe thy powere On me that am of wyll and herte entere A clene mayde so as I began Without touche of any maner man In all my lyfe to this same day This lytell auaunt make yet I may In myn ende to the goddes alle After whose helpe now I clyppe and calle And to theyr mercy mekely I coÌ„mende My wofull spirite pray them that they sende To euery mayde better happe and grace Than I haue nowe and a longer space In hertely ioye and honour to contune Without assaute of any infortune To lede theyr lyfe in prosperyte And all maydens remembreth vpon me To take exaumple how ye shall you kepe And that ye wolde a fewe terys wepe Whan
Whiche all this whyle was inly coryous With all his myght and his besy cure To ordayne for the sepulture Of his sones that afore were dede And all that tyme syke lay Dyomede With loues darte wounded to the herte As he that felte inwardly smerte Of wofull syghes whiche in his breste abreyde Full ofte a daye for loue of Cryseyde For he was shake with a feuer newe That caused hym to be full pale of hewe And to wexe bothe megre and lene For pyteously he gan hym to abstene Fro mete and drynke and from all solace As it was sene in his dedely face And ofte a day to hir he wolde playne Of his dissease and his mortall payne Prayinge of grace that she wolde se Vpon his woo for to haue pyte And of mercy for to take hede Of hir seruaunt oonly of womanhede Or planely ellys there is no more to seye For hir sake he sayde he wolde deye But cunnyngly and in full sleyghty wyse To kepe hym lowe vnder hir seruyse With delayes she helde hym forth on honde And made hym in a weer to stonde Full vnsure betwene hope and dispayre And whan that grace shulde haue had repayre To put hym out of all heuynesse Daunger of newe brought hym in distresse And with a disdayne to encrease his payne Of double weer she brought hȳ in a trayne As women can holde a man full narowe Whan he is hurte with Cupydes arowe To sette on hym many felle assayes Day by day to put hym in delayes To stonde vnsure betwyxe hope and drede Right as Cryseyde left Dyomede Of entent to sette hym more a fyre As this women kyndely desyre Whan they a man haue brought in a traunce Vneuenly to hange hym in balaunce Of hope and drede to lynke hym in a chayne And of the fyne vnsure of both twayne To dryue hym forth yeres them to serue And do no force where he lyue or sterue This is the fyne of loues fyry rage And for she wolde haue hym inseruage She locked hym vnder suche a keye That he wote nat where to lyue or deye And in doute thus I lette hym dwelle And forth I wyll of the storye telle And to my matere eke resorte agayne And as myn Auctour recordeth in certayne After the trewes were wered out and gone Twelue dayes suynge all in one The grekes faught with them of the towne To great damage and confusyowne Of outher partye and aduersyte And in this whyle a great mortalyte Bothe of swerde and of pestylence Amonge grekes by fatall influence Of noyous hete and of corrupt eyre Engendryd was that in great dispeyre Of theyr lyfe in the felde they leye For day by day sodaynely they deye And theyr nombre faste gan discrece And whan they sawe that it ne wolde sece By theyr aduyse the kynge Agamenowne For a trewes sent to the towne For thurty dayes and Pryamus the kynge Without more graunted his axynge ¶ Howe Andronomecha Ectors wyfe hadde a vysyon in hir slepe that hir housbonde fought on the morowe that he shuld be slayne the whiche wold not byleue hir nouther Fader nor moder And how Achylles slewe hym Ca. xxvij WHan the moreyne and the wofull rage Of Pestylence began for to aswage And the trewes were wered out goon The grekes caste to mete with theyr foon Vpon a day in plates armed clene Whan Phebus rose with his bemys shene Full plesauntly and gan to shede his lyght But as I fynde tofore the selfe nyght Andronomecha the faythfull trewe wyfe Of worthy Ector hym louynge as hir lyfe By whom he hadde gete children two Wonder semely and inly fayre also And Lamedoute called was the tone So yonge the tother that it ne myght gone And Astronanta I rede that he hyghte Fetured well and passynge fayre of syghte And as Guydo lysteth to endyte Of his moder at the pappes whyte For very yonge that tyme was soukynge And with his arme hir brestys embrasynge And she that nyght as made is mencyon Hadde in hir slepe a wonder vysyon I note in sothe what I may it neuene Outher a dreme or veryly a sweuene Or fro aboue a reuelacyon As whylom hadde the kynge Scipyon Or a shewynge outher an Oracle Or of goddes a warnynge by myracle For in sothenesse slepynge as she lay Hir thoughte playnely if the next day Ector went his fomen for to assayle As he was wonte armed in batayle That hene shulde escape vtterly In fatys hondes to falle fynally And ouer more Antropos shall fyne For euermore his lyues threde to twyne And shewe the force of hir fell myght Whan the Parodye of this worthy knyght A proche shall without wordes mo Into the felde playnely if he go Of whiche astonyd streyght and short of breth Where as she lay abrayde vp on the deth And with a syghe stynte for to slepe And pyteously braste out for to wepe For the constraynte of hir hertely sorowe And specyally on the wofull morowe Whan that she sawe this stocke of worthynesse As he was wonte manfully hym dresse To arme hym in stele borned bryght This troyan wall Ector this worthy knyght She can no more but at his fete felle downe Lowly declarynge hir a vysyowne With quakynge herte of very womanhede Wherof god wote he toke lytell hede But therof hadde indygnacyon Platly affermynge that no discrecyon Was to truste in suche fantasyes In dremes shewed gladly meynt with lyes Full of Iapes and illusyons Of whiche playnely the conclusyons Benat ellys but folkes to delude Albe it so that these people rude Therin some whyle haue affeccyon To iuge and deme in theyr oppynyon Dyuersly what they may pretende And ofte falle and happen as they wende And foloweth lyke in conclusyon For drede of whiche the Lamentacyon Encrease gan of Andronomecha And in hir swowne firste she cryed A Sayeng alas myn owne lorde so dere Your trewe wyfe alas why ne wyll ye here Whiche of so faythfull hoole affeccyon Desyreth aye your sauacyon And vp she rose dedely of vysage And lyke a woman caught with sodayne rage To kynge Pryam and Eccuba the quene In haste she wente hir selfe to be mene And of hir wyfely herte trewe as stele Ceryously declared euery dele Hir pyteous dreme whiche thorugh myracle To hir oonly by deuyne oracle I shewed was thorugh goddes purueaunce And tolde them eke the fynall ordynaunce Of Fortunes false disposycyon Fully purueyed to destruccyon Of hir lorde without more delay Into the felde if he go that day ¶ Wherfore she prayeth with a dedely hewe Vnto the kynge of meccy for to rewe Vpon hir wo to haue compassyon For to ordayne by discrecyon Of his lordshyp and of soueraynte That hir lorde nat destroyed be Of reckeleshede nor of wylfulnesse And with that worde of very kyndenesse In whom was aye somoche loue founde Tofore the quene in a swowne fell to grounde And sayde alas with a full pale chere Helpe in this case myn owne moder dere Of womanhede and routhe
prudently That she auoyded by discrecion All fantasye and suspeccion That no man coude of hir workynge deme No thynge but well for as it dyde seme By porte and chere there was no cause why And so by processe she drewe hir pryuely Towarde Iason for she was nat to lere And secretly badde hym in his ere In alwyse that he nat ne leue To hir chambre for to come at eue For mater they hadde for to trete Which he shal know at leyser whan they mete And so anone whan entred was the nyght Sool by hym selfe without torche or lyght To Medea he hath the way take And she abode slepeles for his sake Wonder deuoutly desyrynge as I gesse With hym to trete of some holynesse Touchynge materes of contemplacion For she was smytte with a deuocion Of freshe Venus to holde a memorye With hym alone in hir oratorye Nat openly as ypocrytes praye In dyuers angles ioynge on the waye Of the people for to be comended But they nat so hath the nyght dispended For vayneglorye nor none other laude But by themselfe thynkyng on no fraude Secretly this ylke twayne alone Without lyght outher of sonne or mone The longe nyght haue ladde without reste For as them thought it was nat for the beste To speke of slepe tyll that it was pryme For they them caste to lese as tho no tyme And thus the nyght togyder they dispende That I am dull for to comprehende The obseruaunces of suche relygyous Prolix in werkynge and compendyous Deme your selfe ye gete nomore of me For well ye wote in euery faculte Who hath knowynge and experyence Men wyll to hym rather gyue credence Wherfore I saye ye that be wyse and can Axe nat me whiche am so rude a man To deme a thynge and namely whan that it Passeth my knowynge also and my wit For dulled is myn ymagenatyfe To deme in practyke or in speculatyfe Wherfore I passe and lete it ouer slyde And forthe I thynke if ye lyste abyde Playnely to tell of Iason and Meâ—ee The whiche accorded and assented be That she with hym shall into grece wende Whan that he gothe shortly this the ende Vnwyste hir fader and euery other wyght Saue he alone that hath his trouthe plyght For to be trewe bothe in well and woo â–ª Vnto his laste to hir and to no moo ⸫ ⸫ ⸫ ¶ Howe Iason toke shyppynge with his loue Medea and sayled awaye with hir Ca. vij ANd whan Iason after his Iournee Full rychely lyke to his degree Refresshed was in Colchos of the kynge Withall that myght be to his lykynge And amoneth passed was and gone He with his Grekes assented into one Purposed hath shortly if he myght With Medea to stele awaye by nyght That moche treasour and the ryche flees And full accorde also of Herculees But O Medea thou hastest all to faste Thou were to slowe wysely for to caste What shulde falle whan thou thy iourney toke For how that he in myscheif the forsoke And how that he was false and eke vnkynde For all his othes to the as I fynde And how that thou bothe at eue morowe Thy fatall chaunce and thy pytous sorowe By weptest after and gan thy selfe to rende Tyll dethe of all made a wofull ende It were but vayne to make rehersayle I wote no thynge that it myght auayle Nor how Iason vnkynde for the nones Receyued hath penam talliones Of the goddes for his disnaturelnesse For he in myscheif and in wretchednesse Made eke an ende thorugh the cruell hate Of felle Mars loo here the mortall fate Of these twayne that made theyr ende so But as I trowe lyke as wryte Guydo For theyr gynnynge was nat vertuous An ende foloweth full contagyous Alas if they hadde take hede aforne Than had they nat in myscheif be lorne But who wyll nat afore his myscheif se May nat eschewe to haue aduersyte In the ende platly to deuyne For euen lyke ryght as a medecyne Auayleth nat whan the syke is deed For what may helpe the stomake or the heed Letuarye emplaystre or pocyon Or any resseyt or confeccyon Herbe or stone or that leches knowe Whan that the corps is layde in erthe lowe ¶ Or whan a beest is tourned to careyne Myne Auctor sayth that it is but veyne For his recure vpon any halowe To his ere for to leyne a salowe For veryly after his fantasye It helpeth nat nor doth no remedye For thynge parfourmed in his due date More vertue hath than whan it cometh to late Rightsom case veryly semblable Of worldly truste false and full mutable Who caste no peryll tyll that it be falle In stede of sugre ofte casteth galle Blended with luste whiche that is present Of the future slouthe and neclygent That them ne lyste afore no myscheif caste Tyll in the snare they be englued faste For to prouyde they be graceles Full vnprudent and wylfull recheles To caste peryll or that it be tyde They sewe theyr luste their reason goth asyde As it befelle whylom of this two Of Medea and of Iason also ¶ But how so euer of Iason that it be I â—ynde playnly the harme alone had she The great damage and the fynall smerte For lacke of wysdome yâ— she ne wolde aduerte What shulde falle whan she hir iourney toke And hir fader folyly forsoke But sythe she wrought oonly of wylfulnesse Without counsayle or auysenesse Me lyste no more hir harmes to bewayle For lytell or nought it myght now auayle Lete hir alone complayne hir damage For well I wote touchynge hir passage It was nat take in good plyte of the moone Of hastynesse she began to soone Chesynge an houre that was nat fortunat For she alone of frendes desolat Colchos forsoke and is to shyp gon And in all haste be byddynge of Iason Hercules and all his companye That with hym came out of Thesalye Without taryeng at ones at a worde Yentred ben within shyppes borde Oonly for cause that the wynde was gode And euery thynge at theyr luste tho stode And so by assent they stale awaye by nyght With all the treasoure that they catche myght And with them ladde plente of vytayle And forthe anone they began to sayle By many coste and many sondry I le Towardes Grece and all this mene whyle Was Medea glad and of good chere She and Iason syttynge bothe yfere And Hercules of very gentylnesse Her to comforte dyde his besynesse All faynyngly for the maner sake As these louers full queynte can it make Tyll they haue hadde hooly theyr pleasaunce Theyr luste fulfylled than vttreth varyaunce As it was preued by Iason vtterly That hath forsake full vnkyndely This Medea in payne sorowe and wo Of hir Guydo ne wryte no wordes mo Nor maketh of hir none other mencyon Bycause I trowe in myn opynyon That hir sorowes ende and euery dele Rehersed be full openly and we le Methamorphoseos wryte there full playne Where as Naso recordeth in certayne Hir deth
And eke vntrussed hir heer a brodegan sprede Lyke to golde wyre for rent and all to torne Yplucked of and nat with sherys shorne And ouer this hir fresshe rosen hewe Whylom ymeynt with whyte lylyes newe With wofull wepynge pyteously disteyned And lyke Erbys in Apryll all be reyned Or floures fresshe with the dewes swete Right so hir chekes moyste were and wete With crystall water vp ascendynge hye Out of hir breste into hir heuenly eye And aye amonge hir lamentaeyowne Ofte sythe she fyll in a swowne downe Dedely pale for dymmed in hir syght And ofte sayde alas myn owne knyght Myn owne Troylous alas why shall we ê‘te Rather let deth with his spere darte Thorugh my herte and the vaynes kerue And with his rage do me for to stryue Rather alas than fro my knyght to twynne And of this wo O deth that I am inne Why ne wylt thou come helpe make an ende For how shulde I out of Troye wende He abyde and I to grekes goon There to dwelle amonge my cruell foon Alas alas I wofull creature How shulde 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 day This was hir complaynte with full great afray Hir pyteous noyse tyll it drewe to nyght That vnto hir hir owne trewe knyght Full tryste and heuy came agaynes eue If he myght hir comforte or leue But he in sothe hath Cryseyde founde All in a swowne lyinge on the grounde And pyteously vnto hir he went With wofull chere and hir in armes hent And toke hir vp and than atwene them two Began of newe suche a dedely wo That it was routhe and pyte for to sene For she of chere pale was and grene And he of coloure lyke to asshes dede And fro hir face was gone all the rede And in his chekes deuoyded was the blode So wofully atwene them two it stode For she ne myght nat a worde Yspeke And he was redy with deth to be wreke Vpon hym selfe his naked swerde besyde And she full ofte gan to grounde glyde Out of his armes as she fylle a swowne And he hym selfe gan in terys drowne She was as stylle and dumbe as any stone He had a mouthe but wordes had he none The wery spyryte flyckered in hir breste And of deth stode vnder a reste Withoute menprys sothely as of lyfe And thus there was as it semed a stryfe Whiche of them two shulde firste ypasse For deth portrayed in herte outher face With suche coloure as men go to theyr graue And thus in wo they gan togydre raue Disconsolate all the longe nyght That in good fayth if I shulde a ryght The processe hole of theyr bothe sorowe That they made tyll the next morowe Fro poynt to poynt it to specefye It wolde me full longe occupye Of euery thynge to make mencyon And tarye me in my translacyon If I shulde in hir wo procede But me semeth that it is no nede Syth my mayster Chaucer here afore In this mater hath so well hym bore In his boke of Troylus and Cryseyde Whiche he made longe or that he deyde Rehersynge first how Troylus was contrayre For to ascende vp on loues stayre And how that he for all his surquedye After became one of the companye Of loues folke for all his olde game Whan Cupyde made hym full tame And brought hym lowe to his subieccyowne In a temple as he walked vp and downe Whan he his gynnes and his hookes leyde Amyd the Eyen cerclyd of Cryseyde Whiche on that day he myght nat asterte For thorugh his breste percyd and his herte He wente hym home pale syke and wan And in this wyse Troylus firste began To be a seruaunt my mayster telleth thus Tyll he was holpe after of Pandarus Thorugh whose comforte and medyacyon As in his boke is made mencyon With great laboure firste he came to grace And so contynueth by certayne yeres space Tyll fortune gan vpon hym frowne That she fro hym must go out of towne All sodaynely and neuer hym after se Lo here the ende of false Felycyte Lo here the ende of wordely brotylnesse Of flesshely luste lo here the vnstablenesse Lo here the double varyacyon Of worldly blysse and transmutacyon This daye in myrthe and in wo to morowe For aye the fyne alas of ioye is sorowe For now Cryseyde with the kynge Thoas For Anthenor shall go forth alas Vnto Grekes and euer with them dwelle The hole storye ChauÌ„cer can you telle If that ye lyste no man better a lyue Nor the processe halfe so well descryue For he our englysshe gylte with his sayes Rude and boystous firste by olde dayes That was full fer from all parfeccyon And but of lytell reputacyon Tyll that he came and thorugh his poetrye Gan our tunge firste to magnefye And adourne it with his eloquence To whom honoure laude and reuerence Thorugh out this lande gyuen be and songe So that the laurer of our englysshe tonge Be to hym gyuen for his excellence Right as whylom by full hye sentence Perpetuelly for a memoryall Of Columpna by the Cardynall To Petrark Fraunceyse was gyuen in Ytayle That the reporte neuer after fayle Nor the honour dyrked of his name To be regystred in the hous of fame Amonge other in the hyest sete My mayster Galfryde as for chefe Poete That euer was yet in our langage The name of whom shall pallen in none age But euer ylyche without eclypsynge shyne And for my parte I wyll neuer fyne So as I can hym to magnefye In my wrytynge playnely tyll I dye And god I praye his soule brynge in ioye And where I lefte I wyll agayne of troye The storye telle and firste how that Guydo Within his boke speketh Troylus to Rebukynge hym full vncurteysly That he so sette his herte folyly Vpon Cryseyde full of doubylnesse For in his boke as Guydolyste expresse That hir terys and hir complaynynge Hir wordes whyte softe and blandysshynge Were meynt with faynynge with flaterye And outwarde farsed with many a false lye For vnderhyd was all the varyaunce Curyd aboue with fayned countenaunce As women can falsely terys borowe In theyr herte though there be no sorowe Lyke as they wolde of very trouthe deye They can thynke on and a nother seye As a serpent vnder floures fayre His venym hydeth where he doth repayre The sugre afore the galle hydde behynde As appropryd is vnto theyr kynde To be dyuerse and double of nature Rathest deceyuynge whan men moste assure For vnder coloure euery thynge they werke The fayre aboue the foule in the derke They hydde so that no man may espye And though so be that with a wofull Eye They can outwarde wepe pyteously The tother eye can laffe couertly Whose sorowes all are tempryd with allyes And theyr coloure euer is meynt with rayes For vpon chaunge and mutabylyte Stande hole theyr truste and theyr suerte So that they
Greke brought vnto his fyne For they ne myght endure for distresse Constreynt of hunger dyde them so oppresse Tyll at the laste kynge Pallamydes As he that was in no thynge reckeles Hath therupon made purueaunce Remedye and redy ordynaunce And by assent and counsayle of echon He hath sent wyse Agamenon The worthy kynge to Messa there besyde A â—yâ—ell I le oonly to prouyde For the Grekes if he myght spede Them to releue in this great nede And Telephus kynge of that londe Of gentyllesse hath put to his honde As he that was large and wonder free And renowmed of humanyte To socoure them coÌ„maundynge anone His purueours in all haste to gone From euery party aboute enuyron Thorugh all the landes of his regyon And faythfully to serche euery coost To take vp vytayle for the grekes hoost And after that full hastely he made To stuffe theyr shyppes playnely and to lade With euery thynge that was necessarye To the grekes and by water carye At requeste of Agamenon Without tariynge or delacyon And so the kynge with plente of vytayle Fraute and YÌ„lade gan anone to sayle Towarde the sege he and his meynee Aye costynge by the Grekysshe see The wynde was good the kynge as blyue With his nauye at Troye dyde aryue In fewe dayes and Grekes anone ryght Of his repeyre were full glad and lyght Of his expleyt and his good spede That he so well hath borne hym in this nede And after this Pallamydes anone As sayth Guydo is to his shyppes gone For to consydre and loke all aboute Where nede was within and withoute Any of them to amende or repare As he that lyst for no coste to spare In euery thynge without neclygence Touchynge his charge to do his dylygence Tyll the Trewes fully were out ronne And the werres newe agayne begonne Whiche many man sothly dere aboughte And ceryously to wryte howe they wroughte My purpose is playnely in sentence Vnder supporte of your pacyence DVrynge in one the dedely cruell hate That stynte maye nor cesse by no date Atwyxe Grekes and them of the towne To great damage and destruccyowne On outher parte felynge full vnswete Tyll on a daye they caste for to mete As they were wonte proudely with spere shelde With theyr wardes entrynge into felde Armyd full bryght vpon outher syde And enbatayled stoute and full of pryde Full knyghtly haue chose theyr grouÌ„de take Theyr large baners with the wynde yshake Tyll they togydre sodaynely haue mette And alderfirste Dephebus hath sette Fresshe and lusty and of herte yrous Vpon a kynge called Creseous And of enuye the storye telleth than On hors backe as they togydre ran Dephebus firste with his spere as blyue Thorughout the breste euen dyde hym ryue Vnto the herte that he spake no more The deth of whom Grekes playne sore And for his loue suche a woo they make That all astoned they haue the felde forsake And gan anone vnto theyr tentes flee The whiche in sothe whan they of Troye se Vpon the chase faste gan them spede Vnto tyme that worthy Dyomede And with hym eke the kynge Pallamydes Of hye despyte cruell and mercyles With twenty thousande worthy knyghtes alle Vpon Troyans sodaynely are falle And mortally made them lese theyr weye And to resorte home agayne to Troye And eke with grekes felle and furyous The same tyme came Thelamonyus That hyght Ayax the stronge knyghtly man And lyke a Lyon amonge them as he ran Vpon Troyans and them ouer sette Casuelly in his waye he mette Cecylyen lusty fresshe and lyght And of his tyme a wonder manly knyght And sone was to Pryam as I rede Whom Thelamon pryckynge on his stede Slowe cruelly with his swerde anone Rasynge his arme from the shuldre bone That heallas fyll dede in the felde The deth of whom whan Dephebus behelde Wodder anone than Tygre or lyon With a spere ran to Thelamon And smette hym so thorugh his plates bryght Of very force that he made hym lyght And lese his sadell be sete amonge the prees The whiche stroke whan Pallamydes Behelde and sawe and clerely gan aduerte Irous and wood with a furyous herte Caste hym anone to auenge Thelamowne On Dephebus full worthy of renowne And mortally his guerdon hym to quyte And with a spere grounde for to byte Sharpe and kene large rounde and square Full cruelly or that he was ware Thorugh his harneys without more areste Dephebus he smote so in the breste That with the stroke he brake the shafte a two So that the tronchone and the hede also Lefte in his breste that there was no weye Fynally but that he muste deye There was none helpe nor remedye at all The wounde was so cruell and mortall That with the lyfe he myght nat abyde And in this whyle Parys came besyde Of auenture whyle this Dephebus Was of his wounde so inly anguysshous And gan in haste for to aproche nere With face pale and right an heuy chere And for his distresse wepte pyteously And his knyghtes coÌ„maunded hastely His wounded brother out asyde fere In all haste that they shulde bere Out of the wardes fro the great prees Vnto his payne for to do relees For to a brethe hym at leyser or to auente In open eyre and they vnto hym wente Maugre the Grekes where he wounded was And bare hym out a full easy pas Towarde the walle faste by the towne And with great dole and lamentacyowne Full softely on the grounde hym layde Tyll at the laste this dedely man abrayde With mortall loke and face funerall And chere pyteous so that eche ball Gan tourne vp of his deedly eye And euen thus to Parys he gan seye O brother myn whom that I loued so Haue now pyte and rewe vpon my wo Of kyndenesse and of brotherhede And to my wordes of routhe take now hede Syth we by deth muste a sondre twynne For Antropose shall no lenger spynne My lyues threde but the knotte breke Wherfore brother I praye the be wreke Vpon my deth or I hense pace It that thou lyste to do me suche a grace Of kyndenesse yet or I be dede Out of my breste or this sperys hede Be rent away that thou auengyd be Vpon my foo as I truste in the That I may wyt he be deed or I And that his spirite it passe fynally And firste descende depe downe in helle Eternally with Pluto for to dwelle Myd his boundes that dyrke ben and lowe For fynally so that I may knowe That he be deed there is no more to seye I gyue no forse how soone that I deye To whose requeste Parys toke good hede And into felde faste gan hym spede For thought and woo pyteously wepynge Whyle his brother lay there languysshynge Nat awaytynge but oonly after deth Vpon the poynt to yelde vp the breth And with his knyghtes Parys vp downe The wardes soughte aboute enuyrowne Tyll at the laste Pallamydes he fonde With Sarpedon fyghtynge
come downe On outher parte bothe here and yonder Whiche sodaynely seuered them a sonder And as the storye telleth playnely than Began the slaughter of many manly man For nouther party the felde ne wolde leue Of very pryde tyll it drewe to eue That Phebus gan asswage of his hete And gan to bathe in the wawes wete His bryght bemys of the Occyan That fro the felde home goth euery man To theyr lodgynge and after seuen dayes They faughte yfere and made no delayes Full mortall by cruell aduenture Whyle Achylles besy was to cure His woundes grene and his sores sounde And than he hath a newe treson founde To be vengyd vpon kynge Menon For all his wytte he set therupon And so this cruell enuyous Achylles I charged hath his Myrundones Worthy Menon amonge them to enbrace If they hym founde in opportune place With all theyr myght and theyr besy thought From theyr hondes that he escape nought Tyll he hym selfe auengyd on hym be And so befell as they Menon se The nexte morowe lyke a manly knyght Agayne the Grekes armed for to fyght On Troye syde as he was wonte to do Of auenture that day it fylle so That Achylles and this Menon mette And eche of them gan on other sette On horse backe of full great enuye And so longe in theyr melancolye Myn Auctor wryt they togydre fyght That eche made other of force to a lyght And whan Menon stode vpon the grounde Myrundones wente abounte hym rounde As they were charged of the fyerse Achylle Whan he allas without goddes wylle Dysseuered was from his knyghtes alle And at myschefe they vpon hym falle Destytute alone and helples And in suche poynt slewe hym Achylles But in the storye lyke as it is founde This Menon firste gaue hym suche a wouÌ„de Tofore his deth in all this felle stryfe That he dispeyred was playnely of his lyfe This Achylles for all his false treson Take hede Omer and deme in thy reson The false fraude and the sleyghty gyle The treson caste afore with many wyle Of Achylles and Iuge now a ryght If euer he slewe any worthy knyght But it were by prodycyon Recorde I take of the kynge Menon So that the tytyle of his laude alas Entryked is with fraude and with fallas That thou Omer mayste with no coloure Though thou paynte with gold with asoure In thy wrytynge his venym nat enclose But as the thorne hyd vnder the rose Whose malys aye dareth by the rote Though the floure aboue fayre and sote That men the fraude vnder may nat se Of his treson ye gette no more of me BUt I wyll tell how grekes do that day How Meneste and kynge Menelay Dyomede and Thelamonyus On Troyans were passynge despytous For cruelly with theyr wardes alle In theyr myschefe be vpon them falle And made them flee home vnto the towne For whylom troylus yâ— was their chaÌ„pyowne Is dede alas and hath them now forsake Of whom they haue the dede body take The same day with great diffyculte And dolefully into the Cyte They haue it brought cryeng oft alas And for his deth suche a woo there was That I trowe there is no man a lyue Whiche coude a right halfdele descryue Theyr pyteous wo nor lamentacyowne Certeyse nat Boys that had suche renowne With drery wordes to be wepe and crye In complaynynge to Phylosophye Thorugh his boke accusynge aye Fortune That selde or nought can in one contune She is so full of transmutacyowne O stace of Thebes make no boste nor sowne Of drerynesse for to wryte at all Nouther of deth nor festes funerall Of makynge sorowe nor aduersyte Let be thy wepynge o thou Nyobe ¶ Yâ—e suster also of Mellenger That custome haue for to fle so fer Fro yere to yere your brother to complayne And thou that weptest out thyn Eyen twayne Edippus kynge of Thebes the Cyte Thou wofull Myrre and Calixtone That so well can in rage you bemene And Dydo eke of Cartage quene Lette be your dole and contrycyon And Phyllys eke for thy Demophon And Ecto eke that newe dost begynne To crye and wayle and also thou Corynne That whylom were in so great affray For deth oonly of thy Popyngay As in his boke telleth vs Duyde Let all this woo now be layde asyde And make of it no comparysowne Vnto the woo that was in Troye towne For deth oonly of this worthy knyght For loue of whom euery maner wyght Hye and lowe olde and yonge of age Are falle of newe into suche a rage That they coude of theyr wo none ende Whose salte terys wyll theyr eyen shende So pyteous was the lamentacyowne In euery strete thorugh out all the towne Alas who coude all theyr sorowes telle I trowe certeys Pluto depe in helle For all his tourment and his paynes kene Nouther she Proserpyna his quene Nouther the wery woode Tycyus Ixyon nor hungry Tantalus Ne coude nat for all theyr bytter payne So furyously wepe and complayne As do troyans Troylus for thy sake For who can now suche a sorowe make Or who can wepe as kynge Pryamus Who wepeth nowe with face full pyteous Or maketh sorowe but Eccuba the quene ¶ Who wepeth nowe but fayre Polycene Who wepeth nowe but Parys and Eleyne Who can nowe wepe or vnto terys reyne As do Troyans with dedely swolle chere It neded them no wepers for to here They hadde ynough of theyr owne store Alas for nowe they be for euermore Of helpe all sole of comforte destytute For who shall nowe be to them refute Nowe that Ector and also Dephebus And troylus eke that was so vertuous Be dede alas who shall theyr socoure be Or sustene the werre of theyr Cyte There is no more in conclusyon But after deth fully destruccyon Of theyr toures and theyr walles stronge In this mater what shulde I playne longe It vayleth nat alway so to morne Wherfore I wyll now agayne retorne To my mater and telle how the kynge To grekes hath without more tariynge For a trewes and a peas Ysent A certayne tyme by great auysement Whiche graunted was of Agamenowne And whaÌ„ they anone were repeyred to yâ— towne ¶ Howe Parys slewe Achylles in the Temple of Appollo and Anthylogus duke Nestors sone Capitulo xxxij BYnge Pryamus dyde his besy cure For to make a ryche sepulture For Troylus corps full noble and ryall As sayth Guydo of stones and metall And hym enclosed of great affeccyon And nye besyde was the kynge Menon Solempnely buryed and ygraue And after that day by day they haue Lyke the custome of Festes funerall And other Rytis cerymonyall For them bothe with dewe obseruaunce Seruyse done by contynuaunce In theyr Temple lyke as was the guyse Whiche were to longe me for to deuyse And Tedyus eke for you to dwelle But I purpose ceryously to telle Howe Eccuba as I can endyte Hir caste fully Achylles to quyte His Tyrannye sothely if she may And vnto hir she calleth