her salte teeres She bathed both her vysage and her heere 's O whych a pytous thynge it was to se Her sownynge her pytous voyce to here GrauÌ„t mercy lorde god thanke it you ê™ she That ye haue sailed me my chyldren dere Nowe recke I neuer to be deed ryght here SytheÌ„ I staÌ„de in your loue in your grace No force of deth ne when my spirite pace O tendre O dere O yonge chyldreÌ„ myne Your woful mother wende stedfastly That cruel houÌ„des or some foule vermyne Had eaten you but god of hys mercy And your benigne father so tenderly Hath done you kepe in that same stounde Al sodainly she swapte downe to the grouÌ„de And in her swounyng so sadly holdeth she Her chyldreÌ„ two when she gan hem enbrace That wyth great sleyght and dyfficulte The chyldreÌ„ froÌ„ her armes they gan to race O many a tere on many a pytous face Downe ran of hem that stoden there besyde Vnneth aboute her myght no man abyde walter her gladdeth her sorowe slaketh She ryseth vp al abashed from her traunce And euery wyght her ioye and feest maketh Tyl she hath caught ayen her countinaunce walter her doth so faythfully plesaunce That it was deynty to sene the chere Betwyxt hem two wheÌ„ they were met yfere These ladyes when they her tyme sey Han taken her and into chambre gon And strypen her out of her rude arrey And in a cloth of golde that bryght shone wyth a crowne of many a ryche stone Vpon her heed they her into hal brought And there she was honoured as she ought Thus hath this pytous day a blysful ende For euery man woman doth hys myght Thys daye in myrth and reuel to dyspende Tyl on the welken shone the sterres bryght For more solempne in euery mannes syght Thys feest was and greater of costage Then was the reuel of her mariage wel many a yere in hye prosperite Lyuen these two in concorde and in rest And rychely hys doughter maried he Vnto a lorde one of the worthyest Of al Itayle and then in peace and rest Hys wyues father in hys courte he kepte Tyl that hys soule out of hys body crepte Hys sonne succedeth in hys heritage In reste and peace after hys fathers day And fortunate was eke in mariage Al put he not hys wyfe in great assaye Thys worlde is not so stronge it is no naye As it hath ben in olde tymes yore And herkneth what thautour sayth therfore THis story is said not for y e wiues sholde FeloweÌ„ Grisyld in al humilite For it were importable tho they wolde But that euery wyght in hys degre Sulde be constante in al aduersite As was Grisild wherfore Petrarke writeth This story whych w t hye style he endyteth For sythe a woman was so pacient Vnto a mortal man wel more we ought Receyue al in gree that God vs sent For great skyll he preueth that he wrought But he ne tempteth no man that he bought As sayeth saynt Iame yf ye hys pystel rede He preueth folke but a daye it is no drede And suffreth vs as for our exercyse wyth sharpe scourges of aduersyte wel ofte to be beaten in sondry wyse Not for to knowe our wyl for certes he Or we were borne knewe al our frelte And for our best is al hys gouernaunce Let vs lyue then in vertuous suffraunce â–ª But one word herkneth lordynges or ye go It were ful harde to fynde now a dayes In al a countre Grisyldes thre or two For yf they were put to suche assayes The golde of hem hath so bad a layes wyth brasse for though it be fayre at eye It wolde rather braste a two then plye For which here for y e wyues loue of Bathe whose lyfe and secte myghty god mayntene In hygh maystry or els were it skathe I wyl wyth lusty herte freshe and grene Saye you a songe to glade you I wene And let vs stynte of ernest matere Herkeneth my songe y t sayth in thys manere ¶ Lenuoye de Chaucer a les mariz de nostre temps GRisylde is deed eke her pacience And both at ones buryed in Itayle For which I crye in open audience No wedded man be so hardy to assayle Hys wyues pacience in truste to fynde Grisyldes for in certayne he shal fayle ¶ O noble wyues ful of hye prudence Let no humilite your tonge nayle Ne let no clerke haue cause ne deligence To wryte of you a storye of suche maruayle As of Grisylde pacient and kynde Lest Chechiface swalow you in her entraile ¶ Foloweth Ecco that holdeth no sylence But euer answereth at the countre tayle Beth not adaffed for your innocence But sharpely taketh on you the gouernayle Enprinteth wel thys lesson in your mynde For coÌ„men profyte sythnesse it maye auayle Ne dredeth hem not doth hem no reuereÌ„ce For though thyn husbaÌ„d armed be in mayle The arrowes of thy crabbed eloquence Shal perce hys brest eke hys aduentayle In ielousye eke loke thou hym bynde And y t shal make him couch as doth a quayle Yf y u be fayre there folke bene in presence Shewe thou thy vysage thyne apparayle Yf thou be foule be fre of thy dyspence To get the frendes aye do thy trauayle Be aye of chere as lyght as lefe on lynde And let hym care wepe wrynge and wayle Ye archwyues stoÌ„deth aye at your defence Syth ye be stronge as is a great camayle Ne suffreth not that men do you offence And ye sklendre wyues feble as in batayle Beth eygre as any tygre is in Inde Aye clappeth as a myl I you counsayle ¶ Here endech the clerkes tale of Oxforde and here foloweth the wordes of our hoost This worthy clerk wheÌ„ ended was his tale Our hoost sayd and swore by cockes bones Me were leuer then a barel of ale My wyfe at home had herd this legeÌ„de ones Thys is a gentle tale for the nones As to my purpose wyste ye my wyl But thynge that wol not be let it be styl ¶ Here ende the wordes of our hoste and here foloweth the Frankeleyns prologue THese old geÌ„tyll Britons in her dayes Of dyuers auentures maden layes Rymed fyrst in her mother tonge which layes w t her instrumentes they songe Or els reden hem for her pleasaunce And one of hem haue I in remembraunce whyche I shal saye as wyllinge as I can But syrs bycause I am a borel man At my begynnynge fyrst I you beseche Haue me excused of my rude speche I lerned neuer rethorike certayne Thynge that I speke mote be bare playne I slepte neuer on the mounte of Pernaso Ne lerned neuer Marcus Tullius Cicero Coloures ne knowe I none withouteÌ„ drede But suche coloures as growen in the mede Or els suche as men dyen or paynte Coloures of rhetoryke ben to me quaynte My spirite feleth not of suche matere Thys is my tale yf ye wol it here ¶ Here endeth the Frankeleyns prologue ¶ Here begynneth the
take And of hys chylde he must present make To Mynos to saue hym or to spyll Or let his beeste deuoure him at his wyll And this hath mynos done right in dispyte To wreke his sonne was set al hys delyte And make hem of Athenes hys thral Fro yere to yere whyle he lyuen shal and whoÌ„ he sayleth whan this toun is won This wycked custome is so longe yronne Tyl of Athenes kyng Egeus Mote senden hys owne sonne Theseus Sens that the lotte is fallen him vpon To ben deuoured for grace is there non and forth is ladde this woful yonge knight vnto the couÌ„tre of king Mynos ful of might And in a prison fettred fast is he Tyl the tyme he shulde yfreten be wel maist thou wepe O woful Theseus That art a kynges sonne dampned thus Me thynketh this that thou art depe yhold To whom that saued the fro cares colde And nowe yf any woman helpe the wel oughtest thou her seruaunt for to be And ben her trewe louer yere by yere But nowe to come ayen to my matere The toure there this Theseus is throwe Downe in the bottome derke wonder low was ioynyng to the wal of a foreyne Longyng vnto the doughtren tweyne Of Mynos that in her chambres grete Dwelten aboue the maystre strete Of the towne in ioye and in solas Not I nat howe it happed par caas As Theseus complayned hym by nyght The kynges doughter that Ariadne hyght And eke her suster Phedra herden al Hys complaynte as they stode on the wal And loked vpon the bryght moone Hem lyste not to go to bedde so soone And of hys wo they had compassion A kynges sonne to be in such prison And ben deuoured thought hem great pyte Than Ariadne spake to her suster fre And sayd Phedra leue suster dere This woful lordes sonne may ye not here How pitously he complayneth hys kynne And eke hys poore estate that he is inne And gyltlesse certayne nowe it is routh And yf ye wol assent by my trouth He shal ben holpen howe so that we do Phedra answerde ywys me is as wo For hym as euer I was for any man And to hys helpe the beste rede that I can Is that we done the gayler priuely To come and speake wyth vs hastely And don thys woful maÌ„ wyth hym to come For yf he may this monster ouercome ThaÌ„ were he quyte ther is non other boote Let vs wel taste hym at hys herte roote That yf it so be that he a weapen haue where that he is lyfe dare kepe or saue Fyghten wyth thys fende and hym defende For in the prison there as he shal discende Ye wote wel that the beest is in a place That is not derke hath roÌ„me eke space To welde an axe or swerde staffe or knyfe So that me thynketh he shulde saue his life If that he be a man he shal do so And we shal make hym balles eke also Of wexe towe that whan he gapeth faste Into the beestes throte he shal hem caste To sleke his honger and encomber his teth And ryght anon whan that Theseus seth The beest acheked he shall on hym leepe To sleen him or they comen more to heepe Thys weapen shal the gayler or that tyde Ful priuely within the prison hyde And for the house is crencled to and fro And hath so queynte wayes for to go For it is shapen as the mase is wrought Therto haue I a remedye in my thought That by a clewe of twyne as he hath gone The same way he may returne anone Folowyng alway y e threde as he hath come And whan thys beest is ouercome Than may he flyen away out of this stede And eke the gayler may he wyth him lede And hym auaunce at home in hys countre Sens that so great a lordes sonne is he Thys is my rede yf that ye dare it take what shulde I lenger sermon of it make The gayler cometh and with him Theseus whan these thynges ben accorded thus Downe sate Theseus vpon hys kne The ryght lady of my lyfe ê™ he I sorouful man ydampned to the deth Fro you whyles that me lasteth breth I wol not twynne after thys auenture But in your seruyce thus I wol endure that as a wretch vnknow I woll you serue For euermore tyl that myne herte sterue Forsake I wol at home myne heritage And as I sayd bene of your courte a page If that ye vouchsafe that in thys place Ye graunt me to haue such a grace that I may haue nat but my meate drinke And for my sustynaunce yet wol I swinke Right as you lyste y t Mynos ne no wyght Sens that he saw me neuer with euen sight Ne no man els shal me espye So slyly and so wel I shal me gye And me so wel disfygure so lowe That in this worlde there shal no man me know To haue my lyfe and to haue presence Of you that none to me thys excellence And to my father shal I sende here Thys worthy man that is your gaylere And hym so guerdon that he shal wel be One of the greatest men of my countre And yf I durst sayne my lady bryght I am a kynges sonne and eke a knyght As wolde god yf that it myght be Ye weren in my countre al thre And I wyth you to beare you companye Than shulde ye sene yf that I therof lye And yf that I profer you in lowe manere To ben your page seruen you ryght here But I you serue as lowly in that place I praye to Mars to yeue me such grace That shames deth on me there mote fal And dethe and pouerte to my frendes al And that my spirite by nyght mote go After my deth and walke to and fro That I mote of traytoure haue a name For which my spirite mote go to do me shame And yf I clayme euer other degre But ye vouchsafe to yeue it me As I haue sayde of shames death I dey And mercy lady I can naught els sey A semly knyght was thys Theseus to se And yonge but of twenty yere and thre But who so had ysene hys countenaunce he wold haue wept for routh of his penauÌ„ce For which this Ariadne in thys manere Answerde to hys profer and to hys chere A kynges sonne eke a knyght ê™ she To bene my seruaunt in so lowe degree God shylde it for the shame of women al And lene me neuer such a case befal And sende you grace sleyght of herte also You to defende knyghtly to sleen your foe And leene here after I may you fynde To me and to my suster here so kynde That I ne repente nat to yeue you lyfe Yet were it better I were your wyfe Syth ye ben as gentyl borne as I And haue a realme nat but faste by Than y t I suffred youre gentyllesse to sterue Or that I let you as a page sterue It
yet In crepeth age alway as styl as stone And dethe manaseth euery age and smyte In eche estate for there escapeth none And also certayn as we knowen echone That we shul dye vncertayne we al Ben of that day that dethe shal on vs fal Accepteth than of vs the trewe entent That neuer yet refused your heste And we wol al lorde yf ye wol assent Chefe you a wyfe in shorte tyme at the lest Borne of the gentillest and of the meste Of al this londe so that it aught seme Honour to god you as nere as we caÌ„ deme Delyuer vs out of al this busy drede And take a wyfe for hye goddes sake For yf it so befel as god forbede That thorowe dethe your linage shuld slake And that a straunge successour shulde take Your heritage O wo were vs on lyue wherfore we pray you hastely to wyue ¶ Her meke prayere and her pytouse chere Made the Maikes for to haue pyte wol ye ê™ he myne owne people dere To that I neuer erst thought constrayne me I me reioyced of my lyberte That selden tyme is founde in mariage There I was free I mote ben in seruage But natheles I se your true entente And trust vpon your wytte haue done aye wherfore of my fre wyl I wol assente To wedden me as sone as euer I may But there as ye haue profred me to day To chese me a wyfe I you relese That choyce and pray you of that profer cese For god it wote that children ofte been Vnlyke her worthy elders hem before Bounte cometh al of god nat of the streen Of whiche they ben engendred and ibore I trust in goddes bounte and therfore My mariage myne estate and rest I hym be take he may don as hym lest Lette me alone in chesynge of my wyfe That charge vpon my backe I wol endure But I you pray and charge vpon your lyfe That what wyfe I take ye me ensure To worship her whiles her lyfe may dure In worde and werke here and els where As she an Emperours doughter were And furthermore thus shal ye swere y t ye Ayenst my choyce shal neuer grutch ne stryue For sythe I shal for go my lyberte At your request as euer mote I thryue There as myn hert is set there wol I wyue And but ye wol assent in suche manere I pray you speketh no more in this matere With herty wyl they sworen and assent To al this thyng there sayd no wight nay Besechyng hym of grace er they went That he wolde hem graunt a certayn day Of his spousaile as soone as euer he may For yet alway the people somwhat dredde Lest this Markes wolde no wyfe wedde He graunted hem a day suche as him lest On whiche he wolde be wedded sekerly And sayd he dyd al this at her request And they with humble entent ful buxomly Knelyng vpon her knees ful reuerently Hym thonked al and thus they han an ende Of her entent and home ayen they wende And here vpon he toke his offycers Commaundyng for the feest to puruay And to his priuy knyghtes and squyers Suche charge yaue as he lyst on hem lay And they to his coÌ„maundement obey And eche of hem dothe hys dilygence To done to the feest reuerence ¶ Explicit pars prima et incipit pars secunda NOught ferre fro thylke place honorable where as this Markes shope hys mariage There stode a thrope of syght ful delectable In whiche poore folke of that village Hadden her beestes and herâ—ygage And of her labour toke her sustenaunce After that the erthe yaue hem habundaunce AmoÌ„ge this poore folke ther dwelled a maÌ„ which that was holden poorest of hem all But hye god somtyme sende can His grace vnto a lytel oxe stall Ianycola men of that thrope hym cal A doughter had he fayre ynoughâ— to syght And Grisylde this yonge mayden hyght But for to speke of vertuous beaute Than was she one the fayrest vnder sonne And ful poorely yfostred was she No lykerouse lust was in her herte ironne wel ofter of the wel than of the tonne She dronke and for she wolde vertue plese She knewe wel laboure but not ydel ese But though this mayde were tender of age Yet in the brest of her virginite There was enclosed sadde and rype corage And in great reuerence and charyte Her olde poore father fostred she A fewe shepe spynnyng on the felde she kept She wolde not ben idel tyl she slept And whaÌ„ she homward came she wold bring wortes and herbes tymes ful ofte which she shradde sethe for her lyuyng And made her bedde ful hard nothing softe And aye she kepte her fathers lyfe on lofte with euery obeysaunce and dilygence That childe might do to the fathers reuereÌ„ce ¶ Vpon Grisylde the poore creature wel ofte hath the Markes sette his eye As he an huntyng rode parauenture And whan it fel that he myght her aspye He not with wanton lokyng of solye His eyen caste vpon her but in sadde wyse Vpon her chere he wolde him ofte auyse Commending in his herte her womaÌ„hode And eke her vertue passyng euery wyght Of so yonge age as wel in chere as in dede For though the people haue no great insyght In vertue â—he consydred ful ryght Her bounte and disposed that he wolde Her wedde yf he euer wedde shulde The day of weddyng com but no wight caÌ„ Tel what woman it shulde be For whiche maruaile wondred many a man And sayden whan they were in her priuete wol not our lorde yet leaue his vanyte wol he not wedde alas alas the whyle why wol he thus him selfe and vs begyle But nathelesse this Markes hath do make Of gemmes set in golde and in asure Broches and rynges for Grisyldes sake And of her clothyng toke he the mesure Of a mayden lyke to her statute And eke of other ornamentes al That to suche a weddyng shulde fal The tyme of vndren in the same day Approched that the weddyng shulde be And al the paleys put was in array Bothe halle and chambre eche in his degre Houses of offyces stuffed with great plente There mayste thou se of daynteous vitayle That may be founde as fer as lasteth Itayle This royal Markes rychely arayde Lordes and ladyes in his companye The which that to the feest were prayde And of his retinue the bachelery with many a sowne of sondrie melodye Vnto the village of which I tolde In this aray the right way hath holde ¶ Grisylde god wotte of this ful innocent That for her was shape al this array To fetche water at a wel went And cometh home as sone as euer she may For wel she herde say that ylke day That y e Markes shuld wedde if she might She wolde fayne seen some of that syght She thought I wold w t other maydens stoÌ„de That ben my felowes in our dâ—re and se The Markes and therto wol I fonde
by her wordes perceyue that she were chaunged but he neuer coulde fynde But euer in one ilyke sadde and kynde As glad as humble as busy in seruyse And eke in loue as she was wont to be was she to hym in euery maner wyse Ne of her doughter one worde spake she None accident for none aduersyte Was sene in her ne neuer her doghters name Nempned she for ernest ne for game ¶ Explicit tertia pars et incipit pars quarta IN thys estate passed ben foure yere Er she wyth chylde was but as god wolde A man chylde she bare by this waltere wel gracious and fayre to beholde And when folke it to the father tolde Not onely he but al the countre merye was for the chyld god they thonke herye when it was two yere olde from the brest Departed from hys noryce on a daye Thys Markes caught yet another lest To tempten hys wyfe efte sones yf he maye Onedelesse was she teÌ„pted I dare wel saye But wedded men ne conne no mesure when they fynde a pacient creature wyfe ê™ this Markes ye haue herd or this My people heuely bareth our mariage And namely sythen my sonne borne is Now is it worse then euer in our age The murmure sleeth my herte my corage For to myne eeres cometh y e voyce so smerte That it wel nye destroyed hath my herte Now say they thus wheÌ„ walter is agone Then shal the bloode of Iamcula succede And ben our lorde for other haue we none Suche wordes say my people it is no drede wel ought I of suche murmure take hede For certaynly I drede suche sentence Though they not playnly speke iÌ„ my audieÌ„ce I wolde lyue in peace yf that I myght wherfore I am dysposed vtterly As I hys syster serued by nyght Ryght so I thynke to serue hym priuely Thus warne I you that ye not sodeynly Out of your selfe for no wo shulde outraye Beth pacient and therof I you praye I haue ê™ she sayd and euer shal I wol â—yl nothynge certayne But as you lyst Nought greueth me at al Though y t my doughter my soÌ„ne be slayne At your coÌ„maundement thys is to sayne I haue had no parte of chyldren twayne But fyrst sycknesse after wo and payne Ye ben our lord doth w t your owne thyng Ryght as you lyste and taketh no rede of me For as I lefte at home my clothyng when I came fyrst to you ryght so ê™ she Lefte I my wyll and al my lyberte And toke your clothing wherfor I you pray Do your wyl I wol to it obey And certes yf I had prescience Your wyl to knowe er ye your lust me tolde I wolde it done wythout negligence But now I wote your lust what ye wolde Al your plesaunce fyrme stable I holde For wyste I y t my death wolde done you ese Gladly wolde I suffre it you to please Death may make no comparisoun Vnto your loue And wheÌ„ thys Markes say The constauÌ„ce of hys wyfe he cast adoun Hys eyen two and wondred how she may In suche pacience suffreth al thys array And forth he goeth wyth drery countenauÌ„ce But to hys herte it was ful great pleasauÌ„ce Thys eygre sergeant in the same wyse That he her doughter caught ryght so he Or worse yf he coulde werse deuyse Hath hente her sonne y t was ful of beaute And euer in one so pacient was she That she no chere made of heuynesse But kysseth her chylde after gan him blesse Saue thys she prayd him yf that he might Her lytel sonne he wolde in erth graue Hys tendre lymmes delycate to syght Fro foules and fro beastes to saue But she none answere of hym myght haue He went hys waye as he nothynge rought But to Boleyne he tenderly it brought This Markes woÌ„dred euer leÌ„ger y e more Vpon her pacience and yf that he Ne had sothely knowen there before That parfytly her chyldren loued she He wolde haue wende y t for some subtelte And of malyce or cruel corage That she had suffred thys w t sadde vysage But he knewe wel y t next hym selfe certayne She loued her chyldren best in euery wyse But now of women wolde I aske fayne Yf these assayes mayght not suffyse what coulde a sturdy husbonde more deuyse To preue her wyfehode her stedfastnesse But be contynuynge euer in sturdynesse But there be folke of suche condicion That wheÌ„ they han a certayne purpose take They couth not stynte of her entencion But as they were bounden to a stake They wol not of that purpose slake Ryght so thys Markes hath fully purposed To teÌ„pte hys wyfe as he was fyrst dysposed He wayteth yf by wordes or couÌ„tenaunce She were to hym chaunged of corage But neuer coulde he fynde variaunce She was aye in one herte and vysage And euer the further that she was in age The more truer yf it were possible She was to hym in loue and more penyble For whych it semeth thus that of hem two There nas but one wyl for as walter lest The same lust was her pleasaunce also And god be thanked al fel for the beste She shewed wel for no worldly vnreste A wyfe as for her selfe nothynge sholde wyllen in effecte but as her husbonde wolde The sclauÌ„der of walter woÌ„der wyde sprad That of cruel herte ful wretchedly For he a poore woman wedded had Hath murdred both hys chyldren priuely which murmure was amonge hem comenly No wonder was for to the peoples ere Ther caÌ„e no word but y t they murdred were For whych there as hys people ther before had loued him wel disclauÌ„dred of his defame Made hem that they hated hym therfore To ben a murtherer is an hateful name But nathelesse for ernest ne for game He of hys cruel purpose wolde not stent To tempt hys wyfe was al hys entent when y t hys doughter .xii. yere was of age He to the court of Rome in subtel wyse Enfourmed of hys wyl sent hys message CoÌ„maundyng hem suche bylles to deuyse As to hys cruel purpose may suffyse Howe that the pope for hys peoples reste Bade hym wedde another yf that hym leste I saye he bade they shulde countrefete The popes bulle makynge mencion That he hath leue hys fyrst wyfe to lete As by the popes dyspensacion To stynte rancoure and dyscencion Betwyxt hys people him thus spake y t bul The whych they han publyshed at the full The rude people as no wonder nys wenden ful wel it had ben ryght so But when these tydynges come to Grisyldes I deme that her herte was ful wo But she was lyche sadde euermo Dysposed was thys humble creature The aduersite of fortune to endure Abydynge euer hys luste hys pleasauÌ„te To whome she was yeuen herte and all As to her worldly suffysaunce But certaynly yf I thys storie tel shal Thys Markes ywritten hath in special A letter in whych he shewed hys entent And
Dorigen his wyfe In souerayne blysse leden forthe her lyfe Neuer after was there anger hem bytwene He cherished her as though she were a quene And she was to him trewe for euermore Of these two folkes ye get of me nomore Aurelius that his coste hath al forlorne Curseth the tyme that euer he was borne Alas ê™ he alas that euer I beheyght Of pured golde a thousand pouÌ„de of wright Vnto this philosopher howe shal I do I se no more but that I am for do Myne heritage more I nedes sel And ben a begger here may I no leÌ„ger dwel And shame al my kynrede in this place But I of hym may get better grace But nathelesse I wol of hym assay At certayne dayes yere by yere to pay And thonke hym of hys great curtesye My trouthe wol I kepe I wol not lye With herte â—ore he gothe vnto his cofer And brought golde vnto this phylosopher The value of fyne hundred pouÌ„de as I gesse And hym besecheth of hys gentylnesse To graunt him dayes of the remenaunt And sayd mayster I dare wel make auaunt I fayled neuer of my trouthe as yet For sykerly my hette shal be quyt Towardes you howe that euer I fare To gon a beggyng in my kyrtel bare But wolde ye vouchesafe vpon suerte Two yere or thre for to respyte me Than were I wel for els mot I sel Myne heritage there is no more to tel This philosopher soberly answerde And sayd thus whan he this worde herde Haue I not holde couenaunt vnto the Yes certes wel and truely ê™ he Haste thou not had thy lady as the lyketh No no ê™ he and sorily he syketh what was the cause tel me yf that thou can Aurelius anon his tale began And tolde hym al as ye han herde byfore It nedeth not to reherce it any more He sayd Arueragus of gentylnesse Had leuer dye in sorowe and in distresse Than his wyfe were of her trouthe fals The sorowe of Dorigene he tolde hym al 's Howe lothe she was to ben a wycked wyfe And that she had leuer haue loste her lyfe And y t her trouth she swore throug innoceÌ„ce She neuer erste herde speke of apparence That made me haue of her so great pyte And right as frely as he sent her to me As frely sent I her to hym agayne This is al some there nys no more to same The philosopher answerde leue brother Eueriche of you dyd gentilly to other Thou arte a squier and he is a knyght But god forbyd for his blisful myght But yf a clerke coulde done a gentyl dede As wel as any of you it is do drede Syr I relese the thy thousande pounde As now thou were crope out of the grounde Ne neuer er nowe haddest thou knowen me For syr I wol not taken a peny of the For al my crafte ne nought for my trauayle Thou haste â—payed right wel for my vitayle It is ynough and farwel haue good day And toke his horse rode forthe on his way Lordynges this question wold I aske now whiche was the moste fre as thynketh you Nowe telleth me er that I ferther wende I can no more my tale is at an ende ¶ Here endeth the Frankeleyns tale and begynneth the seconde nonnes prologue THe mynistre the norice vnto vyces Which that men clepen in englishe idlenesse That is porter of the yate of delyces To eschue by her contrarie her oppresse That is to sayne by leful besynesse wel ought we to don your entent Leste that the fende through idlenesse vs heÌ„t For he that with his thousande cordes slye Contynually vs wayteth to be clappe whan he may man in ydlenesse espye He can so lightly catche him in his trappe Tyl that a man be hente right by the lappe He nis not ware the fende hath him in honde wel ought vs werche ydlenesse witstonde And though men dredden neuer for to dye Yet se men wel by reson doutles That ydlenesse is rote of slogardye Of which there cometh neuer no good encres And sythnes that slouth holdeth heÌ„ in a lees Only to slepe and for to eate and drynke And to deuouren al that other swynke And for to put vs from suche ydelnesse That cause is of so great confusyon I haue here done my faythful besynesse After the legende in translacion Right of thy glorious lyfe and passyon Thou w t thy garloÌ„de wrought w t rose lely The mene I mayd and marter seynt Cecely ¶ And thou that arte floure of virgins all Of whom that Bernarde lyst so wel to write To the at my begynnyng fyrst I cal Thou comforte of vs wretches do me endyte Thy maydeÌ„s deth y t wan thorow her merite The eternal lyfe and of the fende victorie As men may after rede in her storie Thou maydeÌ„ mother doughter of thy soÌ„ne Thou wel of mercy synful soules cure In whom that god of bouÌ„te chese for to woÌ„ne Thou humble and hye ouer euery ceature Thou noblest so farre ouer nature That no disdayne the maker had of kynde His soÌ„ne in bloode fleshe to clothe wynde Whiche in the cloystre of thy blisful sydis Toke mannes shappe the eterne loue pees That of the true compas lorde gyde is whom heuen erthe and see withouten les Aye heryen and thou virgyne wemles Bare of thy body dweldest mayden pure The creatour of euery creature Assembled is in the magnifycence with mercy goodnesse and with suche pyt That thou arte the sonne of excellence Not onely that helpest hem that prayenth But often tyme of thy benignyte Ful frely or that men thyne helpe beseche Thou goest beforne and arte her lyues leche Now helpe thou blisful meke fayre mayde Me flemed wretche in this deserte of gal Thynke on the woman of Canane that sayd That whelpes eaten some of y e croÌ„mes smal That from her lordes table ben isal And though y t I vnworthy doughter of Eue Be synful yet accepteth my beleue And for y e fayth is deed withouten werkis So for to werche yeue me wytte and space That I be quyt from y e place y t most derke is O thou that arte so fayre and ful of grace Be myne aduocate in that hye place There as without ende is songe Osanna Thou Christes mother doughter of Anna And of thy light my soule in prison lyght That troubled is by the contagyon Of my body and also by the wyght Of erthly luste and also false affection O hauen O refute O saluacion Of hem that ben in sorowe and distresse Now helpe for to my werke I wol me dresse Yet I pray you that reden that I write Foryeueth me that I do no dyligence This ylke storie subtelly to endyte For bothe haue I the wordes the sentence Of hym that at the sayntes reuerence The storie wrote and folowen her legende And pray you that ye wol my werke amende ¶ Fyrst wol I you the name of seynt
I woÌ„der this tyme of the yere whence that this sote sauoure cometh so Of roses and lylyes that I smel here For though I had hem in myne hondes two The sauour might in me no deper go The swete smel that in my herte I fynde Hath chaunged me al in another kynde ¶ Valeryan sayd two crownes haue we Snowe whyte rose reed that shyneth clere which that thyne eyen han no might to se And as thou smellest hem thrugh my prayere So shalt thou seen hem my leue brother dere If it so be that thou wylte without slouthe Byleue a right and knowe the very trouthe ¶ Tyburce answerd sayest thou this to me In sothnesse or in dreme herken I this In dremes ê™ Valerian han we be Vnto this tyme brother myne iwys But nowe at erst our dwellyng in trouthe is Howe wost thou quod Tyburce in what wyse Quod Valeryan that I shal the deuyse The angel of god hath me y e trouth itaught which thou shalt seen thou wilt reney The ydols and be clene and els naught And of the myracles of these crownes twey Saynt Ambrose in his preface luste to sey Solempnly this noble doctour dere CoÌ„mendeth it and saythe in this manere ¶ The palme of martyrdom for to receyue Seynt Cecile fulfylled of goddes yefte The world eke her chambre gan she weyuâ— witnesse Tyburce and Cecyles shrifte To which god of his bounte wolde shyfte Crownes two of floures wel smellyng And made the angel heÌ„ tho Crownes bryng The mayde hath brought hem to blisse aboue The world hath wist what it is worth certal Deuotion and chastyte wel for to loue Tho shewed him Cecyle al open and playn That al ydolles ben but thynges in vayne For they ben dombe therto they ben defe And charged hym hys ydoles for to lefe Who that troweth not this a beest he is Quod this Tyburce yf that I shal not lye She kyssed his brest whan she herde this And was ful glad he couthe trouthe espye This day take I the for myne allye Sayd this blisful mayden fayre and dere For after that she sayd as ye may here ¶ Lo right so as the loue of Christ ê™ she Made me thy brothers wyfe right in y t wyse Anon for myn alye here take I the SytheÌ„s that thou wolte thyn ydoles dispyse Go with thy brother nowe the baptyse And make the clene so y t thou mayst beholde The angels face of whiche thy brother tolde Tyburce answerd and said brother dere Fyrst tel me whyther I shal to what maâ— To whom he sayd come forth w t good chere I wol the lede vnto the pope Vrban To Vrban brother myne Valeryan ê™ this Tyburce wylt thou me thyder lede Me thynketh that it were a wonder dede Ne menest thou Not Vrban ê™ he tho That is so ofte dampned to be deed And wonneth in halkes to and fro And dare not ones put forthe his heed Men shulde him brenne in a fyre so reed If he were founde and men might hym spye And we also that bere him companye And whyles we seken thylke diuinite That is yhidde in heuen priuely Algate ybrent in this worlde shulde we be To whom Cecile answerde boldely Men might drede wel and skylfully This lyfe to lese myne owne dere brother If this were lyuing only and non other But there is better lyuyng in other place That neuer shal be loste ne drede the nought which goddes soÌ„ne vs told through his grace That fathers sonne hath al thyng wrought And al y e wrought is with a skilful thought The goste that from the father gan procede Hath souled hym without any drede By worde and by myracle lo goddes soune whan he was in this worlde declared here That there is other lyfe ther men may woÌ„ne To whom answerde Tyburce O suster dere Ne saydest thou right nowe in this manere There nas but one god lord in sothfastnesse And nowe of thre howe may y u bere witnesse ¶ That shal I tel ê™ she or that I go Right as a man hath sapyences thre Memorye engyne and intellecte also So in suche beyng of diuinite Thre persons may there right wel be Tho gan she there ful besily hym preche Of Christes sonne and of his paynes teche And many poyntes of his passyon Howe goddes sonne in thys worlde was witholde To do mankynde playne remyssyon That was bounde in synnes cares colde Al these thynges she vnto Tyburce tolde And after this Tyburce in good entent with Valeryan to pope Vrban went That thonked god with glad hert light He christned him and made him in that place Perfyte in his lernyng goddes knyght And after this Tiburce gate suche grace That euery day he sawe in tyme and space The aungel of god and euery maner boone That he god asked it was sped ful soone ¶ It were ful harde by order for to sayne How many wonders Iesu for him wrought But at the laste to tel shorte and playne The sergeaunt of the towne hem sought And hem byfore Almache y e preuost brought whiche hem aposed knewe al her entent And to the ymage of Iupiter hem sent And sayd who so wol do no sacrifyce Swappe of his heed this is my senteÌ„ce here Anon these martyrs that I you deuyse One Maximus that was an officere Of the prefectes and his councelere Hem hent whaÌ„ he forth the sayntes ladde Hym selfe he wept for pyte that he had whan Maximus had herde this sayntes lore He gate hem of the turmentours leue And had hem to hys house withouten more And with her prechyng er that it were eue They gonne from the turmentour reue And from Maximus from hys folke echon The false faythe to trowen in god alone ¶ Cecyle came whan it was woxen nyght with preestes that hem christened al in fere And afterward whan day was woxen light Cecile hem sayd with a sober chere Nowe Christes owne knyghtes leue dere Casteth al away the werkes of derknesse And armeth you in armoure of brightnesse Ye han for sothe ydone a great batayle Your cours is don your fayth hath you conserued Gothe to y e crowne of life that may not fayle The rightful iudge which ye han serued Shal yeue it you as ye it deserued And whan this thing was sayd as I deuyse Men ladde hem forth to done the sacrifyse But whaÌ„ they were vnto the place ibrought To tel shortly the conclusyoun They nold ensence ne sacrifyce right nought But on her knees they saten hem adoun with humble herte and sadde deuocioun And losten bothe her heedes in the place Her soules went to the kyng of grace ¶ This Maximus y t saw this thyng betyde with pytouse teres tolde it anon right That he her soules sawe to heuen glyde with aungels ful of clerenesse and of lyght And with his word coÌ„uerted many a wight For which Almachius dyd hym so to bete with whyppes of leede
was so narowe ymasked and yknette That is vndon on any maner syde That nyll nat ben for ought y t maye betyde And by the honde full oft he wolde take This Pandarus and into garden lede And suche a feaste and such a processe make Hym of Creseyde and of her womanheed And of her beautie that withouten drede It was an heuen his wordes for to here And than he wolde synge in this manere Loue that of erth see hath gouernauÌ„ce Loue that his heestes hath in heuen hye Loue that with an holesome alyaunce Halt people ioyned as hym lyst hem gye Loue that knytteth lawe and company And couples doth in vertue for to dwell Bynde this accorde y t I haue tolde tell That y t the world w t faith which y t is stable Dyuerseth so his stoundes accordyng That elementes that beth so discordable Holden abonde perpetually duryng That Phebus mote his rosy day forth briÌ„g And y t the mone hath lordship ouer y e niÈtes Al this doth loueaye heried be his mightes That y t the see that gredy is to flowen Constrayneth to a certayne ende so His floudes that so fersly they ne growen To drenchen erth and all for euermo And yf that loue ought let his brydle go All that now loueth asondre shulde lepe And lost wer al y t loue halt nowe to hepe So wolde to god that authour is of kynde That with his bonde loue of his vertu lyst To serchen hertes al and fast bynde That froÌ„ his boÌ„d no wight y e wey out wyst And hertes colde hem wold I y t hem twyst To make hem loue that hem lyst aye rew On hertes sore kepe hem that ben trewe In all nedes for the townes werre He was and aye the fyrst in armes dyght And certaynly but yf that bokes erre Haue Hector moost ydradde of any wyght And this encrease of hardynesse and myght Com hym of loue his ladyes thank to wyn That altered his spyrite so within In tyme of truce on hauking wolde he ryde Or els hunt bore beare or lyoun The small beestes let he gon besyde And whan y t he come rydyng into y e towne Full oft his lady from her window downe As fresh as faucon comen out of mue Full redy was hym goodly to salue And moost of loue vertue was his speche And in despyte had al wretchednesse And doutlesse no nede was hym beseche To honouren hem that had worthynesse And easen hem that weren in distresse And glad was he yf any wight wel ferde That louer was whan he it wyst or herde For soth to sayne he loste held euery wiÈt But yf he were in loues hygh seruyce I meane folke that ought it ben of ryght And ouer all this so wel coulde he deuyse Of sentement and in so vncouth wyse All his aray that euery louer thought That all was well what so he sayde or wrought And though that he be come of bloud royal Hym lyst of pryde at no wyght for to chace Benigne he was to eche in generall For which he gat him thaÌ„ke in euery place Thus wolde loue yhered be his grace That pryde and yre enuy and auaryce He gan to flye and euery other vyce Thou lady bright the doughter of Diane Thy blynde winged son eke Dan Cupide Ye sustren nyne eke that by Helicâ—ne In hyl Pernaso lysten fyr to abyde That ye thus ferre han deyned me to gyde I can nomore but syns that ye woll wende Ye heryed ben for aye withouten ende Through you haue I sayd fully in my soÌ„ge Theffect and ioye of Troylus seruyce All be it there was some disease amonge As myne auctour lysteth to deuyse My thyrde boke nowe ende I in this wyse And Troylus in lust and in quyete Is with Creseyde his owne hert swete ¶ Explicit liber tertius BVt all to lytle welaway the whyle Lasteth suche ioy ythonked be fortune That semeth trewest whan she woll begyle And can to fooles so her songe entune That she hem hent y e bleÌ„t traytour coÌ„mune And whaÌ„ a wight is froÌ„ her whele ythrow ThaÌ„ laugheth she maketh hym the mow From Troylus she gan her bryght face Away to wryth and toke of hym none hede And cast hym clene out of his ladyes grace And on her whele she set vp Diomede For which myn hert riÈt now gyueth blede And now my pen alas w t which I wryte Quaketh for drede of that I muste endyte For how Creseyde Troylus forsoke Or at the leste howe that she was vnkynde Mote hence forthe ben mater of my boke As writeÌ„ folke through which it is in mynde Alas that they shulde euer cause fynde To speke her harme yf they on her lye Iwys hem selfe shulde haue the vilanye O ye Herynes nyghtes doughters thre That endlesse complayne euer in payne Megera Alleâ—to and eke Tesiphonee Thou cruell Mars eke father of Quiryne This ylke Fourth boke helpe me to fyne So that the loos and loue and lyfe yfere Of Troylus be fully shewed here ¶ Incipit liber Quartus LIgging in host as I haue sayd er this The grekes stroÌ„g aboute Troy toun Byfell that whan that Phebus shynyng is Vpon the brest of Hercules Lyon That Hector with many a bolde baron Caste on a day with grekes for to fyght As he was wont to greue heÌ„ what he might Not I how longe or shorte it was bytwene This purpose that day they fyghteÌ„ mente But on a day wel armed bright and shene Hector and many a worthy knight out wente with speare in hond and bygge bowes bente And in the berde withouten lenger lette Her fomen in the felde anon hem mette The longe day w t speares sharpe ygrouÌ„de with arowes dartes swerdes maces fell They fight bringen horse man to grouÌ„de And with her axes out the braynes quell But in the laste shoure sothe to tell The folke of Troye hem seluen so misledden That with y e worse at night hom they fleddeÌ„ At wyche day was taken Anthenor Maugre Polymydas or Monesteo Xantyppe Sarpedon Palestynor Polyte or eke the Troyan dan Rupheo And other lasse folke as Phebuseo So that for harme y e day the folke of Troye Dredden to lese a great parte of her ioye Of Priamus was yeue at grekes requeste A tyme of truce and tho they gonnen trete Her Prisoners to chaungen moste and leste And for the surplus yeuen sommes grete This thyng anon was couthe in euery strete Both in thassege in towne and euery where And with the fyrst it came to Calkas eere whan Calkas knew this tretyse shulde hold In consystorie amonge the grekes sone He gan in thring forthe with lordes olde And set hym there as he was wonte to done And with a chaunged face hem bade aboue For loue of god to done that reuerence To stynten noyse yeue him audyence Than sayd he thus lo lordes myne I was Troyan as it is knowen out of
holy on him ley And sens he best to loue is and moste meke what nedeth fayned loues for to seke Lo here of paynems cursed olde rytes Lo here what al her goddes may auayle Lo here thys wretched worldes appetytes Lo here the fyne and guerdon for trauayle Of Ioue Apollo of Mars such raskayle Lo here the forme of olde clerkes speche In poetrye yf ye her bokes seche O moral Gower thys boke I directe To the and to the Philosophical Strode To vouchsafe there nede is to correcte Of your benignityes and zeles goode and to that sothfast Christ y t starfe on roode wythal myne herte of mercy euer I pray And to the lorde aright thus I speake say Thou one two and thre eterne on lyue That raignest aye in thre two and one Vncircumscript all mayst circumscryue Vs from visible and inuisible fone Defende and to thy mercy euerychone So make vs Iesus to thy mercy digne For loue of mayde mother thyne benigne ¶ Thus endeth the fyfth boke and last of Troylus and here foloweth the pyteful and dolorous testament of fayre Creseyde The testament of Creseyde ADolye seasonne tyll a careful dyte Shulde coresponde and be equiuolent Right so it was whaÌ„ I began to write Thys tragedy y t weder ryght feruent whan Aries in myddes of the lent showres of hayle can fro the north descende that scantly fro the colde I miÈt me defende Yet neuertheles wythin myne orature I stode whaÌ„ Titan had his beames bright withdrawen downe and scyled vnder cure And fayre Venus the beautye of the nyght Vprayse and set vnto the west ful ryght Her golden face in oppositiowne Of god Phebus directe discendinge downe ThrouÈout y e glasse her bemes brast so fayre That I might se on euery syde me by The northern wynde had purifyed the ayre And shedde his mysty cloudes fro the skye The froste fresed the blastes bytterly Fro pole Artike come whisking loud shyll And caused me remoue ayenst my wyll For I trusted that Venus loues quene To whom somtyme I hyght obedience My saded hert of loue she wold make grene And therupon with humble reuerence I thought to pray her hye magnifycence But for great colde as than I letted was And in my chambre to the fyre can pas Though loue be hote yet in a man of age It kyndleth nat so soone as in youtheed Of whom the blode is flowyng in a rage And in the olde the corage dul and deed Of which the fyre outward is beest remeed To helpe by phisyke where y e nature fayled I am experte for both I haue assayed I made the fyre and beaked me about Than toke I drinke my spirites to conforte And armed me wel fro the colde therout To cut the wynter night and make it shorte I toke a queare and lefte al other sporte written by worthy Chaucer glorious Of fayre Creseyde and lusty Troylus And there I founde after that Diomede Receyued had that lady bryght of hewe How Troylus nere out of his wytte abrede And wepte sore wyth visage pale of hewe For which wanhope his teares gan renewe whyle esperous reioysed him agayne Thus while in ioy he liued while in paine Of her behest he had great comfortynge Trusting to Troy y t she wolde make retour which he desyred most of al erthly thynge For why she was his onely paramoure But whan he saw passed both day hour Of her gayncome in sorowe can oppresse His woful herte in care and heuynesse Of his distresse me nedeth not reherse For worthy Chaucer in that same boke In goodly termes and in ioly verse Compyled hath his cares who wyl loke To breake my slepe another queare I toke In whych I founde the fatal desteny Of fayre Creseyde which ended wretchedly who wote if al that Chaucer wrote be trew Nor I wotte not yf this narration Be authoryzed or forged of the newe Of some poete by hys inuention Made to reporte the lamentation And woful ende of thys lusty Creseyde And what distresse she was in or she deyde whan Diomede had al his appetyte And more fulfylled of thys fayre lady Vpon another sette was al his delyte And sende to her a lybel repudy And her excluded fro his company Than desolate she walked vp and downe As some men saine in the courte as comune O fayre Creseyde the floure and a per se Of Troy Grece how were thou fortunate To chaunge in fylth al thy femynite And be with fleshly luste so maculate And go among the grekes early and late So giglotlyke taking thy soule pleasaunce I haue pyte the shulde fal such mischaunce Yet neuerthelesse what euer meÌ„ deme or say In scornful langage of thy brutelnesse I shal excuse as ferforth as I may Thy womanheed thy wisedome fayrnesse The which fortune hath put to such distresse As her pleased nothing through the gylte Of the through wicked langage to be spilte Thys fayre lady on thys wise destitute Of al comforte and consolation Right priuely wythout felowshyp or refute Disheuelde passed out of the town A myle or two vnto a mansioun Bylded ful gay where her father Calcas which thaÌ„ amoÌ„ge the grekes dwelling was whan he her sawe the cause he can enquyre Of her coÌ„myng she sayd syghyng ful sore Fro Diomede had goten his desyre He wore wery and wolde of me no more ê™ Calcas doughter wepe thou not therfore Parauenture al cometh for the best welcome to me thou arte ful dere a gest Thys olde Calcas after the lawe was tho was keper of the temple as a preest In which Venus and her sonne Cupido were honoured and hys chambre was nest To which Creseyde w t bale enewed in brest Vsed to passe her prayers for to say whyle at the last vpon a solempne day As custome was the people ferre and nere Before the noone vnto the temple went with sacrifyce deuoute in theyr manere But styl Creseyde heuy in her entent In to the church wolde not her selfe present For gyuyng the people any demyng Of her expulse fro Diomede the kyng But passed in to asecrete oratore where she myght wepe her woful desteny Behynde her backe she closed fast the dore And on her knees bare fel downe in hye Vpon Venus and Cupide angerly She cryed out and sayd in thys wyse Alas that euer I made you sacrifyce Ye gaue me ones a diuyne responsayle That I shulde be the floure of loue in Troy Now am I made an vnworthy outwayle And al in care translated is my ioye who shal me gyde who shal me now coÌ„uoy Syth I fro Diomede and noble Troylus Am clene excluded as abiecte odious O false Cupyde none is to wyte but thou And thy mother of loue that blynd goddace Ye caused me vnderstande alway and trow The seede of loue was sowem on my face aye grewe grene throuÈ your souple grace But nowe alas y t seed wyth frost is slayne And I
Ful of folke of whych ful many one Is wounded sore and sicke and wo begone And they haue at the seige longe ylayne Behynde him came a wynd and eke a raine that shofe so sore hys sayle myght nat stoÌ„de Him were leuer than al the worlde alonde So hunteth hym the tempest to and fro So derke it was he coulde no where go And wyth a waue brusten was hys stere Hys ship was rente so lowe in such manere That carpenter coulde it not amende The see by nyght as any torche brende For woode and posseth hym vp and downe Tyl Neptune hath of him compassioun And Thetis Chorus Tryton and they al And maden hym vp on londe to fal wherof that Phillis lady was and quene Lycurgus doughter fayrer vnto sene Than is the floure agayne the bright sonne Vnneth is Demophon to londe ywonne weake eke wery and hys folke forpyned Of werynesse and also enfamyned And to the deth he was almost ydryuen His wyse folke counsayle haue him yeuen To seken helpe and socour of the quene And loken what hys grace myght bene And maken in that lande some cheuesaunce And kepen hym fro wo and fro mischaunce For sycke he was and almost at the dethe Vnneth myght he speke or drawe brethe And lythe in Rodopeya him for to rest whaÌ„ he may walke hym thouÈt it was best Vnto the countre to seken for socour Men knewe hym well and dyd him honour For at Athenes duke and lorde was he As Theseus hys father hath ybe That in hys tyme was great of renoun No man so great in al hys regioun And lyke hys father of face and of stature And false of loue it came hym of nature As doth the foxe Renarde the foxes sonne Of kynd he coulde his olde fathers wonne wythout lore as can a drake swymme whan it is caught caryed to the brymme this honorable quene phillis doth him chere Her lyketh wel hys sporte and hys manere But I am agroted here beforne To write of hem y t in loue bene forsworne And eke to hast me in my legende which to performe god me grace sende Therfore I passe shortly in thys wyse Ye haue wel herde of Theseus the gyse In the betrayeng of fayre Adriane That of her pyte kept hym fro hys bane At shorte wordes ryght so Demophon The same way the same pathe hath gone That dyd hys false father Theseus For vnto Phillis hath he sworne thus To wedden her and her hys trouth plyght And pyked of her al the good he myght whaÌ„ he was hole sounde and had his rest And doth wyth Phillis what so y t hym lest As wel I coulde yf that me lyst so Tellen al hys doyng to and fro He sayd to hys countrey mote he sayle For there he wolde her weddyng apparayle As fyl to her honoure and hys also And openly he toke hys leaue tho And to her swore he wolde not soiourne But in a moneth agayne he wolde retourne And in that lande let make hys ordynaunce As very lorde and toke the obeysaunce wel and humbly and hys shyppes dyght And home he goth the next way he myght For vnto Philles yet came he nought And that hath she so hard and sore ybought Alas as the storye doth vs recorde She was her owne deth wyth a corde whan she sawe that Demophon her trayed but fyrst wrote she to him fast him prayed He wolde come and delyuer her of payne As I reherce shal a worde or twayne Me lyst nat vouchsafe on hym to swynke Dispenden on hym a penne ful of ynke For false in loue was he ryght as his syre The dyuel sette her soules both on a fyre But of the letter of Phylles wol I write A word or twayne althouÈ it be but lyte Thyn hostesse ê™ she O Demophon Thy Phillis which that is so wo begon Of Rhodopeye vpon you mote complayne Ouer the terme sette betwyxt vs twayne That ye ne holden forwarde as ye sayde Your ancre whych ye in our hauen layde Hyght vs that ye wolde comen out of dout Or that the moone ones went about But tymes foure y e mone hath hyde her face Sens thylke daye ye wente fro thys place And foure tymes lyght the worlde agayne But for all that yet shall I sothly sayne Yet hath the streme of Scython not brought From Athenes the shyp yet came it nought And yf that ye the terme reken wolde As I or other trewe louers do sholde I playne not god wote beforne my day But all her letter wrytten I ne may By order for it were to me a charge Her letter was ryght longe and therto large But here and there in ryme I haue it layde There as me thought that she hath wel sayd She sayd the sayles cometh not agayne Ne to the worde there nys no fey certayne But I wote why ye come not quod she For I was of my loue to you so fre And of the goddes that ye haue swore That her vengeaunce fall on you therfore Ye be not suffysaunt to beare the payne To moche trusted I well may I sayne Vpon your lynage and your fayre tonge And on your teeres falsly out wronge Howe coude ye wepe so by crafte quod she Maye there suche teeres fayned be Nowe certes yf ye wold haue in memorie It ought be to you but lytell glorie Ta haue a sely mayde thus betrayde To god ê™ she pray I and ofte haue prayde That it be nowe the greatest pryce of all And moste honour that euer you shal befall And when thyne olde aunceters paynted be In whych men may her worthynesse se Then praye I god thou paynted be also That folke may reden forth by as they go Lo thys is he that wyth hys flatterye Betrayed hath and done her villanye That was hys trew loue in thought dede But sothly of o poynt yet maye they rede That ye ben lyke your father as in thys For he begyled Ariadne ywys wyth such an arte and suche subtelte As thou thy seluen haste begyled me As in that poynt all though it be not feyre Thou folowest certayne and arte his heyre But sens thus synfulfy ye me begyle My body mote ye sene wythin a whyle Ryght in the hauen of Athenes fletynge wythouten sepulture and buryenge Though ye ben harder then is any stone And wheÌ„ thys letter was forth sent anone And knewe how brotel how false he was She for dyspayre fordyd her selfe alas Such sorowe hath she for she beset her so Beware ye women of your subtyll foe Sens yet thys daye men maye ensample se And trusteth nowe in loue no man but me Here endeth the legende of Phillis and here foloweth the legende of Hipermester IN Grece whylom weren brethren two Of whych that one was called Danao That many a sonne hath of hys body wonne As such fals louers oft coÌ„ Amonge hys sonnes all there was one That aldermoste he loued of euerychone And wheÌ„ this chyld