The tail of the A runs down to the last line of this page; this letter is in red and blue paint, and is six lines high (see photo).Alle-myghty god in trinite,
Sothfaste god in persones thre,
Fadir, sone, and holi gost,
In whom is witte and myghtes most,
Be at this tale begynny[n]g
And also at the endyng!
So ende oure tale and so bygynne,
The ioye of heuene al for to wynne,
Aftir oure lyff at oure laste ende,
To ioye of heuene alle for to wende!
Many speken of men that romaunces redeErasure of two or three letters between that and romaunces, and of one letter after rede.
That were sumtyme doughti in dede,
The while that god hem lyff lente,
That now ben dede and hennes wente:
Off Bevis, Gy, and of Gauwayn,
Off kyng Richard, & of Owayn,
Off Tristram, and of Percyuale,
Off Rouland Ris, and Aglauale,
Off Archeroun, and of Octouian,
Off Charles, & of Cassibaldan,
Off Hauelok, Horne, & of Wade;—
In Romaunces that of hem ben made
That gestoures often dos of hem gestes
At Mangeres and at grete ffestes.
Here dedis ben in remembraunce
In many fair Romaunce;
But of the worthiest wyght in wede
That euere by-strod any stede,
Spekes no man, ne in romaunce redes
Off his batayle ne of his dedis.
Off that batayle spekes no man,
There alle prowes of knyghtes be-gan;
That was for-sothe of the batayle
That at Troye was saunfayle.
Off swyche a fyght as ther was one,
In al this world was neuere none,
Ne neuere schal be til domysday—
With-oute drede, I dar wel say;—
Ne neuere better men born ware,
Then were þan a-sembled thare;
Neuere was, ne neuere schal be
So many gode men at asemble—
I dar wel say, be my ffay,—
As were at that batayle of Troy.
¶ This sign is in blue paint, and so they are everywhere else in this MS.For ther were, In that on side,
Sixti kynges and dukes of pride,
And sythen mo of gret feute,
With alle thaire folk and thaire meyne;
And ther was the beste bodi in dede
That euere ȝit wered wede,
Sithen the world was made so ferre,
That was Ector, in eche a werre,
Ne that neuere sclow so many bodies—
Fyghtyng In feld with his enemyes—
Off worthi men that doughti were,
As duke Ector of Troye there;
For ther was neuere man that myght stand
A strong stroke of Ectores hand,
That he ne deyed In that stounde
With his dynt and falle to grounde,
But the strong Achilles,
That was best of alle that pres
Off the kynde of Gregeys,
As ȝe schal here how it weys.
This capital is in blue and red paint, and so they are everywhere else in the MS.HErkenes now, and ȝe may here
The werre sothe alle plenere:
What was the forme enchesoun,
The formest skyl and resoun,
That alle the kynges of Grecis formast Inued
And the Troyens so longe pursued;
And how the batayle was first be-gunnen,
And how Troye was sithen y-wonnen;
And—as the storie here beris recorde—
Alle the dedis of euery lorde,
And alle the dayes that thei faught there,
And alle the dedis as thei were
Of alle the lordes that ther faught,
And whiche of hem here dethe þer laught;
¶ And how fele termes and trewes
Where take be-twene Troyens and Gruwes,
And how longe euery trewe laste,
And how thai spedde when thei were paste;
And alle here wo and al here breste;
And how many tymes that thei reste
With-Inne ten ȝere that thei were thore,
Er that the toun distroyed wore.
¶ Dares, the heraud of Troye, sais,¶ DaresThe sign in blue, the name in red paint..
And Dites that was of the Gregeis,—
For thei were euery day in the feld
And alle here dedis thay be-held,—
And as thei were thei wreten hem bothe;
Thei nolde not lette, for leef ne lothe,
The sothe to say with-oute les
Of gode Ector and Achilles,
And of alle the gode lordes echon;
And of alle here dedis schal lakke non.
¶ And afftir hem come Maister Gy,
That was of Rome a Notary,
And fond here bokes In Athenes
Afftirwardes when it was pes,
¶ Polleus.
¶ ThesalieThe signs in blue, the names in red paint; and so always. Here the last three stand in the left margin in MS..
And turned it of Grew into Latyn,
And wrot it faire in parchemyn
In the manere as I schal telle.
Hende, now herken to my spelle!
IN the lond of Thesalye—
As telles vs the right storie—
Was sumtyme a noble kyng,
Riche of kyn and other thyng,
That het Polleus, whil he hadde lyff,¶ Rex PolleusThe signs in blue, the names in red paint; and so always. Here the last three stand in the left margin in MS..
And Tetes het the qwene his wyff.
On here gat he that doughti knyght
In wedlac, that Achilles hight,
That wondir wrought and gret meruayle
Afftirward in Troye batayle.
¶ This Polleus hadde an eldur brother,
That higthe Eson, he het non other.
Eson was so lad with elde,¶ Rex EsonThe signs in blue, the names in red paint; and so always. Here the last three stand in the left margin in MS..
That he ne myght his hondes welde:
He toke Polleus al Thesaly
With alle the Rentes and seygnory
For to gouerne and for to ȝeme,
And bad alle him serue to queme,
For thei schulde be in his pouste;
For he was blynd and myȝt nouȝt se.
That blynde kynge, that het Eson,¶ Jason ffilius EsonThe signs in blue, the names in red paint; and so always. Here the last three stand in the left margin in MS..
Hadde a sone, that het Iason,
Strong, sturne, stalworthe & stoute,
Off speche curtays, of contenaunce deuoute,
Large of ȝifftes and [ryght] ffre,
Wondur fair and ryght tempere.
Alle the lordes of that lond
Seruede that child to fote & hond
For his prowes and his noblay,
And loued him wel and quemed ay;
¶ Insula Colkos.
Thai dede him as gret reuerence
As Polleus kyng in his presence;
The lordis and alle the comunalte
Held that [child]child is not in the MS., but there is no blank either. In gret cherte.
¶ Polleus hadde wel gret envye
That men dede him suche seruagery;
He was aferd in his herte:
If that child ȝede forth In querte,
And afftirward myȝt falle gret toyle,
And of that lond he wolde him spoyle;
For he was gret of wasselage
And loued with alle his baronage.
Night and day the kyng then thought,
How he myȝt brynge that child to nought
With sum sleyȝte priuily,
That he were not schent ther-by.
¶ So longe he that a-boute soughtMS. that caste a-boute sought; perhaps caste aboute was the original, and our copyist tried to amend the rhyme aboute: thought by inserting sought, but forgot to cancel the caste; sechen about occurs again l. 1687.,
That it come thus in his thought,
Off a wondur selcouthe gile
To him by-traye that ilke while:
He thought sende that ilke childe
To Colkas,—that perilous Ilde,
That was so fer out in the est,—
To wynne that schepe, that wondur best,
That neuere man In come and ȝede a-gayn
Out of that Ile for-sothe vn-sclayn.
Therfore ther-at I most dwelle,
The manere of that Ile to telle.
BE-ȝonde the lond of Troye, gode men,—
I trowe: of Iorneys more than ten—
Ther was an Ile that het Colkos,
That alle the fyght of Troye by ros;
As I schal schewe by what skylle,
When my matere comes ther-tille.These 'signatures' are all by a later hand.
The comune sawe was thorow alle Grece:
Ther was a schepe that bar a flece
With-In that Ile, that was of gold,
That neuere man that was on mold
With strengthe, myȝte, ne with gynne
That ilke schepe myght not wynne;
That schepe was y-kepidThe k altered from l; cp. l. 743. day & nyȝt
With Marcȝ, aMS. as. god of mykel myȝt.
Who-so wolde that schepe come to,
Many thinges he most do:
He most ferst fyghte with strong nete
That were hidous & wondir grete,
And out of here mouth thei keste fir
And brende men [&] here atir;
And whan he hadde the nete ouercomen,
That thei were mate and alle be-nomen,
Ther lay a plowMS. aplow. with alle þe gere,—
And make hem drawe and that lond ere,
He moste ȝoke hem in that plow,
The bestes bolde—if that he mow—
And make hem drawe and ere that lond
And holde that plow faste with his hond,
Til it were ered thorow and thorow.
Whan he hadde turned echeeche partly erased in MS. a forow,
¶ He most fyght with a dragoun
And scle him, if he may or kun;
The dragoun was gret and meruelous,
Off sight & body ful hidous;
No man wiste non suche by north ne be southe,
He keste brondes of fir out of his mouthe,—
Ther was none suche In no land—
Ther myȝt no man his hete with-stand.
The brennyng brondes þat from him wente
Brende men In here garnement;
Off thei were armed neuere so wel,
He brend hem thorow Iren & stel.
Whan he hadde sclayn that dragoun,
Out of his hede he most takoun
Alle his tethe with his owne hond
And sowe hem in that ered lond;
Whan that thei were In that lond,
Quiklyche ther wold ther-of stond
Stalworthe men, clene armed knyȝtis,
Lyuand men at alle mennes sightis,
And fight to-gidre with brondes bryȝt,
Til echon hadde sclayn other with her myȝt.
By these periles and other mo
Sicurly by-houes him to go,
That wolde that schepe wynne or haue;
Ther was neuere non that myȝt him saue
From these bestes and fro here hete,
That he neInserted by a later hand over the line. scholde sone his lyf lete.
¶ When Pelleus was be-thought of this,
He was Ioyful and glad y-wys,
He thouȝt egge Iasoun ther-tille
Thedur to go on his fre wille;
And so myȝt he be most blameles
And of his deth be holden giltles;
For were heInserted by a later hand over the line. went þidur fro home,
He hoped neuere of his gayn-come.
PElleus kyng send fer & ner
Bothe Corour and Messanger
Thorow his lond and bad hem crie
That he wolde a Mangerie,
A riche feste and a riale,
And thedur schulde come gret & smale;
He sente his lettres and his sond
Afftir alle the grete of the lond,—
To Erle, lord, and bold baroun,—
And bad hem come to his toun,
For ther wolde he his feste holde
With ladies bryȝt and knyȝtes bolde.
Whan thei were comyn, thei were alle glad
With moche merthe that thei mad,
Til thre dayes were fulli paast,
This Mangeri then so longeso longe substituted for, and written (by the later hand) above atte; atte is crossed out. laast.
Pelleus kyng then—soth to say—
Be-fore the lordes of that contray
Spak to Iason, ther he stode
Barehed with-outen hode,—
He spak to him with fair semblaund,
With louely chere and speche smyland;
But it was fals and foule disseite,
For he him be-thouȝte thanne wel streite.
¶ He seide: 'Iason, my dere Cosyn,
Thow art the beste knyȝt of al my kyn,
The worthiest man, the beste knyȝt;
I loue the wel—and that is ryȝt—
For I am douted and eke dred
Off kyng & knyȝt and lessMS. lest. mys-bed
Be the alone and thi prowes
Then by my lond and my riches.
I haue more Ioye of thi body
Then of alle the lond of Thesaly,
For thow art knyȝt with-outen pere—
Saue Ercules, that is thi fere.—
I trowe that thow myȝt fulfille
Alle thyng that thow ȝaf the tille;
But if it were schepe ffelle!
That I haue herd men of telle
That is so hard for to wynne
In that Ile ther he is Inne!
And ȝit I hope—so haue I roo,—
If thow woldest ȝeue the ther-too
And put ther-to thi bysynes,
Thow scholde it haue with-oute distresse.
Then were thow knyȝt of worschepe most
Off alle that wones in any cost,
If þow that flees with prowesse hadde;
Then were I, Cosyn, of the gladde,
For gret honour then dedest thow to me,
And ther-by schuldest honoured be;
And my lond afftir my day
Schulde be thyn—as I say,—
And also in my lyff treuly
Thow schulde be lord as wel as I,
And haue thi wille and thi comandement
Off alle that euere to me apent.'
IAson stode In his emys halle
By-fore his Eme and lordes alle,
He herkened alle that he euereMS. he euere he. sayd,
With his wordes he was wel payd;
The wordes riȝt wel to him liked,
He wist nouȝt that he was beswiked,
He wende not the wordes that were spoken
Of him so to be a-wroken,
But for he scholde wynne gret loos
And be þe more drad of his foos.
He wiste wel if he seide 'nay'
By-fore the lordes, that he schulde ay
Holde him for a cowardMS. acoward.
And neuere-more of him take reward,
But hope it were for cowardise
That he durst not take a priseMS. aprise..
¶ Iason seide: 'so mote I thriue,
This feste schal neuere be don so blyue,
That I ne schal be redi to go
In-to that Ile, for wele or wo,
What-so-euere schal be-tyde;
I schal not longe thenne abyde,
If it be so ȝe wil me fynde
That nedeful is to mannes kynde:
¶ A strong schippeMS. schiþ., and vitayles good,
And other thynges that me by-hood,
And worthi knyȝtes In my companye,
That proued ben In chyualrie.
And I, my lord, to the schal brynge
That golden flece, that worthi thynge,
If I may wynne it with doughtinesse,
Or any man with hardinesse.'
¶ When Pelleus herde his Cosyn speke,
He wiste wel his othe he wolde not breke;
He was Ioyful in his mod,
He sais: 'Cosyn and al my blod!
As thow art, my Cosyn, thi-self alone,
Is non so strong of body ne bone;
I schal fulfille al thy lykyng
That thow hast nede In any thyng
And nedeful is in that viage;
The worthiest of my baronage
For-sothe, Cosyn, schal wende with the;
A strong schip schal ordeyned be,
It schal be mad that ȝow may bere,
That the see do ȝow no dere,
That in the water ȝe ben not spilt;
Al thyng schal be as thow wilt.'
PElleus kyng was wonder blythe.
A strong schip was mad swythe,
Strong & wyde and wondir large,
With his boot and his barge;
The schippe that he made to Iason
Afftir the wright was cleped 'Argon.'
Whan it was mad with seyl and mast,
Thei hyed hem to fille it fast,—
With Mete and drynke it is wel frauȝt,—
And worthi knyȝtes with him be-tauȝt;
To wende with him in his fere,
Many a douȝti knyȝt was there.
¶ Among whiche was Ercules,
The strongest knyȝt that euere wes,
That in that world was þanne levand;
No man myȝt his strok with-stand.
This was he that men of speke,
In erthe was non so myȝti freke,
Kyng, ne knyȝt, ne Champioun,
In Ile, ne in regioun,
That myȝt with-stande that knyȝtes strengthe
The mountans of a dayes lengthe.
¶ This was he that strong man
That al the world speke of can;
He caste alle men that he wrasteled with,
Were thei neuere so strong of lith.
And Atthenes, the gode knyȝt,
He wrasteled with him with al his myȝt,
And Hercules him so hard thrist,
That alle his ribbes al to-brast.
This was he that in his dayes
In batayles hard and gret affrayes
He sclow geauntes with-outen tale,
He wroght amonges hem gret bale;
He sclow champiouns with-outen nombre,
So manye that no man myȝt hem vmbre.
This was he that ilke knyȝt,
That was so strong & of so moche myȝt.
¶ De Iasone.
What schulde I speke more of his dedis?
Eche man that of him redis
Wot wele he was with-outen pere,
Whil that he was lyuande here;
I leue þer-fore and turne eft
A-gayn to Iason ther-as I left.
THis schippe was redi and set on-flote
With his barge & his bote;
Iason takis his leue to wende
At Pelleus & at other frende;
Hercules schal with him go.
Ther-of schal rise al this wo,
That Troie schal so foule be for-don,
As I schal telle ȝow sone.
Thei are schepped now eche a wyght,
The schip is ȝare & redi dight,
Ther sail is drawe, the[i] wende forth faste,
In-to the see thei ben forth paste.
Thei sailen many a day and nyȝt
With many stormes lyght,
Til thei were weri of the see;
Thei wolde fayn at reste be:
Vpon a day the mariner
Saw a lond that was hem ner;
Ther schip thei turned thedir prest,
For on that lond to take here rest.
Vpon that lond thei lepe vp alle,
An[d] of ther teld thei made an halle,
And ete & drank & made hem glad;
Thei were fayn that thei lond had.
The lond that thei were on lyght,
The lond of Troye that tyme hight;
Troie was not that tyme so strong,
Ne so moche, ne so long,
¶ De Rege Lamedonie Troiani.
Wyde, ne large, ne no-thyng toward,
As it was sethen afftirward
When Priamus hit made a-ȝeyn,
When Lamedon, his fadir, was sclayn.
¶ The Greges hade seten but a stounde
And made hem merie on the grounde,
Or hit were told to Lamedon
That men were lyght his lond vpon,
Stout, & fers, and full gay,
That wel be-semed of gret noblay;
Thei wende thay wold hem robbe in hast,
Or brenne that lond and leue it wast;
Thei sayde: "it were good to wete here wille,
Whether thei were comen for good or ille;"—
'And bidde hem go and rise
And voyde this lond, if thei be wyse;
Or ȝe schal hem honge and drawe,
If thei dwelle til the day dawe.
¶ Lamedon called a gret lordyng,
Wyse of speche & of beryng,
And bed him go to hem anon,
And take with him men gret won
And bidde hem wende out of his lond,
Or he wol reue hem foot and hond.
¶ This riche lord his hors hath hent
And to the Gregeys he is went,
And seyde: 'lordynges, so god me mende,
Lamedon me to ȝow sende,
Oure kyng, and seys: him meruayles
What ȝe thenken and what ȝow ayles,
Vpon his lond that ȝe aryue;
And biddes ȝow hye hennes blyue,
That ȝe be not founden here to-morwen;
For ȝif ȝe ben, ȝe be for-lorn.
He wil ȝow hewe lym and lythe,
Ȝif he to-morwe may mete ȝow withe.
Voydes this lond and dos be my red,—
Or sekirly ȝe ben alle ded!'
¶ Iason was al a-stonaid
Off that þe knyȝt thus to him said,
He turned to his felawes ward:
'This kyng sais vs an ille forward
To voyde his lond with-outen gilt,
Or we schal elles alle be spilt;
For-sothe he nys not curtays
To vncouthe men that resten in pes
In his lond vpon a brynkeMS. abrynke.,—
That non ille do, ne non harm thenke,
But reste vs here on this ryuage,—
To sende vs suche a messageMS. amessage..
But I se wel he loues vs litel
That hates vs by suche a titelMS. atitel.,
For we vpon his lond rester corrected from l.;
He loues litel an vncouthe geste.'
IAson thenne with heuy chere
Turned him to the messangere;
He sayde: 'lordying, I herde wel
Al thi message euery del.
God I drawe to oure wittenesse:
We reste here for no wickednesse,
But for to reste vs here a whileMS. awhile.;
For we haue sayled many a myleMS. amyle.
And weri ben bothe more & lesse
And resten vs here for werinesse.
But say thi lord, my leue frende,
Out of his-lond that we schal wende;
Say: "I se wel be his sonde,
He wil we reste not on his londe."
Belli inter Troianum & GrecosThis—and before it: 'Caret rubrica'—written in a very fine hand..
And say him: "ȝit may this wel be qwyt
By some that thow sest here sit." '
HErcules, that douȝti knyȝt,
At Lamedon hadde gret dispit,
He was Angered and alle a-rage
Off this kyng and his message;
Him thoughte for tene his herte to-brak
That Iason then so mekely spak,
He was not payed with his sawe
'Here now,' he says, 'felawe,
What in erthe so thow art,
Or he that sente the hidirward,
Say thi kyng: "this day thre ȝer
Or ere he schal se me her
Vpon this place and other mo.
Out of his lond wil I not go
For his biddyng, but lye here stille
Maugre his tethe, agayn his wille;
For he schal be so ouer-sette,
That we for him wol not lette
To do oure wille and oure lykyng."
Go and say thus to the kyng!
Say him: "he has be-gunnen a strif,
That he and his schal rewe his lyf";
And bidde him be sekir her-of & bold,
And say that I him thus told!'
¶ Hercules his lippes gnowe
For tene he hadde not folk y-nowe,
That he als-tide and sir Iason
Might not ffyght with Lamedon.
But a-mong hem was no merie gale
Off alle that ther were, grete & smale,
Ther was not a schip ful of men,
And thei were mo then thousandes ten
De Rege Cete in Ciuitate Ieconite.
Off bold knyȝtes hardi & kene;
What wolde thei alle to hem be sene!
Thei gadered vp alle that ther lay
And to thair schip thei toke the way
And sailed forth vpon the see,
Til thei wolde comyn ther thei wolde be
In-to that Ile that hight Colkos.
Eche a man on londe than gos,
And leyde here sail thanne by the mast
And lefft here schip teyghte fast.—
And this þe forme skyl to schewe was,
That Troie was lorn so foule a-cas,
Driuen doun and foule distroyed;
Ther-with were Troiens foule anyed,
For thei of Grece reste on here land
Fer fro the cete opon þat sand;
For sir Iason and his nauee
Sette & reste vpon the see,
When thei wente out of Grece
To wynne the schepis goldyn flece.
IN Colkos Ile a Cite was,
That men called thanne ReconitasMS. reconitas; the r quite distinct, though the rubric has Ieconite.,
Fair and mekel, large and long,
With walles heye and wondir strong,
Ful of toures and heye paleis
Off riche knyȝtes and burgeis.
A kyng that tyme, that hete Cetes,
Gouerned than that lond In pes;
With his baronage and his meyne,
Dwelleden thanne in that Cyte.
For al aboute that riche toun
Stode wodes and parkis enviroun,
That were replenysched wondirful
Off herte and hynde, bore and bul,
And other many sauage bestis;
Be-twix that wode and that forestis
Ther was large contray & playn,
Faire wodes & fair Champayn,
Ful of semely rennyng welles—
As the romaunce the sothe telles—
With-oute the cete that ther sprong;
Ther was of briddes michel sang
Thorow alle the ȝer, and mykel cry,
Off alle Ioyes gret melody.
¶ To that Cite & kyng Cetes
Ȝode Iason and Hercules
And alle the felawes that he hadde,
In clothes of gold as kynges be-cladde.
When kyng Cetes his men herde say
That Gregeys come in that aray,
In his paleis he spak hem with,
Alle in pees and loue & gryth;
He ros him vp out of his se
As curtais kyng and knyȝt so fre,
Out of his halle with mykel spede
With his men agayn hem ȝedeMS. ȝode.,
And welcomed hem with louely chere
And ledde hem bothe to-gedir in-fere
And ther other ffelawes alle
With gret worschepe In-to his halle.
He dede hem sitte opon the benk,
And bad his men bryng a drynk;
When thei hadden dronken what her wille is,
Sir Iason, the knyȝt of pris,
Tolde the cause of his comyng
On fair manere to Cetes the kyng,
And seyde "that he was comen to wynne,—
If he myght spede,—ofof is added above the line and ought to be deleted. the golden skynne.
He prayed him ther of his gode wille,
That he scholde graunte loude and stille
Holly his landes ordenaunceMS. ordenanaunce.,
If him myȝt happen suche chaunce."
¶ The kyng graunted to fulfille
His desir and alle his wille;
The kyng bad with mylde wordes:
"Anon thei scholde sette the bordes;
Tyme hit was to sopere go," he sayde;—
The bordes were set, the clothes layde.
He called to him a knyȝtMS. aknyȝt. wel hende
And him afftir his douȝter sendeMS. wende.,
And seide, sche scholde comen a-doun
To glade his gestes of gret renoun.
¶ The knyȝtOriginally knyȝtes in MS.; es erased. ȝede to the mayden ffre,
The kynges douȝter, dame Mede,
And bad here come with-outen dwellyng
With here Maydenes to the kyng.
Sche dwelled not longe—I vndirstonde:—
Whan sche hadde herd here fadir sonde,
Sche come doun vnto the table
With contenaunce good and stable,
And grette here fadir sikurly
And other knyȝtes that sete him by.
He bede here go and sitte that tyde
His vncouthe gest Iason be-syde;
And Mede dede as here fadir bad,
And of his biddynge was wel glad.
Off this Mede, this worthi may,
Sumwhat of here wol I say,
Off here wisdom and of here beryng,
Off here science & of here kunnyng:
Sche coude the science of clergy
And mochel of Nigramauncy;
De Medee Filia Regis Ceti.
In alle that lond [ne] was here pere
As wide as men gos fer or nere,
Ne that was to here half so scley
Of cours of planetes and of the sky,
Ne couthe so many enchauntement
As coude Medee, that may gent.
¶ Sche coude with coniurisouns,
With here scleyghte & oresouns,
The day that was most fair & lyght
Make as derk as any nyght;
Sche coude also In selcouth wyse
Make the wynde bothe blowe & ryse
And make him so lowde blowe
As it scholde houses ouerthrowe;
ScheMS. He. couthe turne verement
Alle wederes and the firmament,
And here liked make it reyne
And if here liked make it schyne.
Sche coude do many selcouthe thyng:
In somer when the leues spryng
Make stormes hem to driue a-way
And make trees drye as clay;
Sche wolde also the trees that ware
In wynter-tyde naked & bare
Make hem florische aȝeyn & bere,
That wynter hem myȝt not dere.
In al the world was no man
So kunnyng of wit and wisdam—
As seyn these autours and these clerkes—
As was Medee In here werkes.
MEdee sette here doun to mete
By-twene her lord and Iason to ete,
Sche cast here eye wel offte vnfold
That Ioyful knyȝt to be-hold;
So fair a knyȝt at here likyng
Sche saw neuere old ne ȝyng;
Here hadde leuere than al Assye
That he hadde ben in here baylye,
Might sche brynge to that acord
That he wolde be here lord;
Gode in erthe! thatPerhaps naught was in the original. sche desires,
But that Iason were one of heres.
Sche hadde here herte so on him set,
Here eye myȝt sche not fro him let;
Sche loued him so wondirly tho,
That sche wiste neuere what to do,
But toke here leue and be-gan to go
To the chambur that sche come fro.
¶ Vnto the chambur sche is comyn,
Loue hath here so vndir-nomyn,
That trauayles here wondir strong
With thought and sykyng euere among;
Sche thenkith bothe day & nyȝt
How sche that loue performe myȝt
With-outen schame and vylonye,
That sche were not reproued ther-by;
Fayn sche wolde haue here wille,
But sche myȝt not come ther-tille.
¶ And thus leued sche fourtene nyȝth
In gret wo as any wyȝth:
Til hit be-fel vpon a day
That kyng Cetes—soth to say—
And Iason were to-gedur set
And bad here men Medee doun fet
In-to the halle of his paleis,
To talke with the knyȝtes curteis.
Off the tydynges was Medee blithe:
To hem doun sche come swythe;
¶ De Iasone.
And he bad here sitte be Iason,—
That al here loue was vpon,—
And speke with him In fair manere,
As Mayden schulde to bachelere.
Medee did his comaundement;
But Cetes was ther-with ablent:
He wist not of Medee wille
That sche loued Iason stille.
¶ When Iason saw that worthi wyght
So sitte on benche by him right,
He was wel glad, as him gon thenk;
Ercules ros vp of the benk,
And he sat be that worthi wenche
To wete what that mayden dede thenke.
¶ Kyng Cetes with-oute doute
Spak to the knyȝtes him aboute,
Of Ercules asked tydynges,
At other knyȝtes of other thynges;
So to him ȝaf no man gome,
Knyȝt ne sqwyer, lord ne grome.
Medee say that sche was brouȝt
To telle Iason of here thouȝt
¶ With-oute heryng of any wyght:
'Sir Iason,' sche seide, 'thow art a knyȝtMS. aknyȝt.
Off whiche I haue mochel rewthe
And gret compassioun, be my trewthe!
For I se wel and haue in mynde
That thow art comen of gentil kynde,
And art a louelyMS. alouely. creature,
And art hardy with-oute mesure;
For I se wel—and sothe hit is—
That thyn heye herte and thi hardines
Hath brouȝt the fro the lond of Grece
For to wynne the golden flece,
¶ De Medee.
Thorow whiche—is a sothe thyng—
Thow schalt go to thyn endyng.
And I haue gret pyte
Off thi manhede and beute,
That thow thus foule schalt be spilt
For a schepisMS. aschepis. skyn that is ouer-gilt.
Ther-fore I ȝeue the consayle—
The beste that the may a-vayle—
That thow wende hom hole and sound,
A-ȝeyn to thi lond with-oute any wound.'
¶ Iason thanne with chere deuout
Vnto that lady gan lout
And seyde louely, curtays & fre:
'A thousand tymes I thanke it the
Of thi goodnes and thi curtasye,
That thow hast reuthe of my folie;
For ȝoure biddyng outerly
I put for-sothe al my body.'
'SWete Iason, my louely frend,'—
Saide Medee, that mayden hend,—
'Has thow not the sothe herd telle
Off that flece and the gret perille?
Or thow knowest not the sothe
That makes the so bold of othe,
Thow may ther-to make assay
And lese thi myȝt and thi noblay.
For sekurly ther was neuere knyȝt
That hadde that strengthe and that myȝt,
That myȝt with his hardinesse
That flece wynne with douȝthtinesse:
For it is keped bothe nyght and day
With oure god Mars, that alle thyng may;
For ther is no man on lyue,
Agayn oure god that may stryue.
Ther-fore I praye ȝow for loue or awe:
Fro that perile ȝow with-drawe,
That thow deye not thus sodenly
For a lytel foly!'
¶ Iason seyde: 'my lady dere,
Of this kepe I no more to here!
Wene ȝe my hert so to stere,
Or with ȝoure wordes me to dere,
That I schulde this thing for-sake
That I gan ferst vndirtake?
Me were leuere certes to deye
Than to do that vylonie!
For now I haue it be-gonne,
And I ȝede hom, or it were wonne—
Me were leuere I were vnbore
Then suche a schame were me before!
For my deth schal I not lette,—
If that I may,—that flece to fette!'
MEdee seide: 'my derlyng,
Is it thi wil for any thyng
To putte thi deth be-fore thi lyff
And to putte the to that stryff?
I haue pite of thi ded,
But I schal ȝeue the suche a redMS. ared.,
That thow schalt come a-ȝeyn ful rathe
And wynne that schepe with-outen skathe—
If it be so thow wilt fulfille
Mi desire and my wille.'
'Lady,' Iason thanne sayde,
'Of that ȝe sayn I holde me payde:
What ȝe schul in erthe ordeyne,
I schal holde it for prow or payne
The while that I am leuyng—
I drawe to witnes god, oure kyng!'
¶ Medee sayde to Iason than:
'If thow wilt be so trewe a manMS. aman.,
That thow wilt hete me to wedde,
And as thi spouse to brynge me to bedde,
And leue me neuere for wele ne wo,
And graunt me home with the to go
Out of this lond that is fair,—
Off whiche I schal be qwene and ayr,—
Vnto thi lond, to thi hous,
And wedde me there to thi spous:
I wolde make the that schepe-fel
Wynne to-morwe with-outen perel.'
IAson sayde to Medee:
'Riche bene that thow proferest to me:
Ȝoure-self to be in my bandoun
And al in my subieccioun,
That art the fairest that lyf beres
Or any clothe on erthe weres;
And also to saue me
Off alle perile that ther-Inne be,
And do me wynne that flece of golde,
That no man may do that leues on molde
With-oute ȝoure help, my derlyng!
That is to me a fair proferyng!
Body and herte to ȝow I profre,
And alle my-self to ȝow I offre:
I take ȝow here my trowthe I-plyȝtMS. I. plyȝt.,
That I schal neuere by day ne nyȝt
Do not a-ȝeyn ȝoure lykyng
Ne forthermore neuere of ȝoure byddyng!
And I schal with me ȝoure-self lede
In-to my lond—so god me rede!—
And wedde ȝow there vnto my wyff
And leue ȝow neuere whil me last lyff!'
Off that beheste was Medee fayn,
But ȝit sche wolde be more certayn
That he schulde here no-wayes be-gile
Ne holde here afftir for no vile.
Sche sayde: 'Iason, be thow not wroth!
I wole that thow me make an oth,
That thow schalt trewly & trusly holde
Of alle that thow hast sayde & tolde;
For no-wayes we may not now
Do this thyng be-twene vs two.
I wol that thow when day is gon
Come to my chambre sone anon,
When I schal sende aff[t]ir the,
That thow alway come to me;
And than schaltow make thi surment
Opon my god with sacrament,
And swere me ther by that god
Alle this to holde for euen or od.
And when thow hast thus wrouȝth & don,
Al thi wil schal I graunte son.'
¶ Iason seyde: 'my ladi fre,
As ȝe haue seyd, so schal it be!
When ȝe haue afftir me send,
Wightlyche schal I to ȝow wend.'
And thus were thei bothe at one
Vpon the benche hem-self alone
And toke leue thenne and ros;
Vnto here Chambre faste sche gos.
MEdee is vnto here chambre gone,
And here maydenes euerychone.
Here thought longe vnto nyght,
That sche myȝt speke with that knyȝt.
When nyȝt was comyn and day past,
And alle in bedde vpon sclepe fast,
Sche cleped a maydenMS. amayden. that het Ane,—
So trewe a maydenMS. amayden. hath sche nane,—
And bad here pryuili to go
AndMS. Ad. say: "Iason schuld come here to."
And Ane ȝede wel priuyli
And bad him come to here lady;
And he ros bothe blythe and glad
And dede as the mayden bad.
And whan thei were to-gedur met,
Ane that him thedur fet
Ȝede here way with-oute more
And lefft hem to-gedur thore.
¶ Whan Medee saw Iason ther-In,
Sche sperid the doris with a pyn
And bad him sitte doun vpon here bed,—
With riche clothes hit was spred.
That faire lady, that louesom brid,
A Craffty cofre sche vn-did
And toke out an ymage, frely dyght
With fele torches and mochel lyght,
ThatMS. Ther. sacrid was In Iouis name.
'Iason,' seide that faire dame,
'Thow schalt thin hond on this god lay
And thow schalt holde that I schal say:
On this ymage thow schalt swere,
Faith & treuthe thow schalt me bere,
And wedde me to thy wyff,
And leue me neuere whil I haue lyff.'
¶ Iason sayde: 'my trewthe I layd,
To do al as thow hast sayd.'
And layde his treuthe on that ymage
ToMS. And. take here the terme of his age.
When sche hadde take of him that oth,
Thei caste of hem euery cloth
¶ Iason concubuit cum Medee.
And ȝede bothe in-to a bed,—
With riche clothes hit was spred.
Alle that nyȝt to-gedur thei lay,
Til it was nere a-gayn the day.
Iason sayde: 'my derlyng dere,
It is not good to dwelle here;
But say me now, my derlyng,
Wolt thow ordeyne for me o thyng,
That I myȝt thorow thi techyng
My purpos wele to ende bryng?
For al the haste that I haue
Is, swetyng,—so god me saue—
Out of this Ile the to lede
In-to my lond with-outen drede.'
¶ Sche seyde: 'Iason, I am al ȝare,
When thow art redi, With the to fare!
Rise we now vp! I schal the kenne
With the neet that the ne brenne.
For-ȝete thow not my kennyng
For no ferdnesse of brennyng!'
¶ Iason thenne and sche vp ros;
And Medee to here forsure gos,
And drow out relikes manye & gode,
And toke Iason ther he stode
And tauȝt him how he scholde do,
When he that Ile come to,
That he were not with nete ybrend,
Ne with the dragoun y-schend.
¶ Ȝit of the forsure the lady rauȝte
A fair ymage and him by-tauȝte,
And bad him sclely with him bere,—
For sorcery schuld him not dere:
For it was alle with sorcery wroght,
Alle sorcery it brouȝte to nought.
And afftir that Medee out hente
A wel riche oynemente
And an-oynted alle his body,
Visage and alle witterly:
For hit for-did al brennyng of ffire,
Off hit brende neuere so schire.
¶ And afftirward that fair swetyng
By-tauȝt Iason a richeMS. ariche. ryng,
That alle venym for-dede & strued,—
That he schul not be venym-noyed
That bar that riche ryng on him:
For it fordede alle venym.
MEdee tok with him thanne a writ,
And him bad he schuld bere it;
And when he come with-Inne that Ile,
That he schulde with herte mylde
On his knees him doun sette,
Er he that flece ȝede to fette;
And thries he scholde hit ouer-rede;
That he ne lefft for no drede.
¶ Sche toke him thenne a richeMS. ariche. licour,—
A viole ful of gode sauour,—
And bad he schulde that lycour poure,
When he come In-to the stoure,
In the mouthes of the neete,
For hit was wondur cleuand wete;
Then scholde thei holde here mouth to-gedur
And make no more so foule a wedur:—
'For if thow konne this in here mouthe throwe,
Thei schal no more no fir blowe!'
¶ Iason seide: 'I thonk it the,
That thow hast thus ordeyned for me!
I hope, or it be euenyng,
That golden flece to the bryng.'
He toke his leue at that may,
In-to his Chambre he tok the way,
Ther-In he lay and Hercules;
Wel stille he lay doun in pes,
Til it was cler day and lyght,
That the sunne schon wel bryght:
He ros vp and come him doun,
And alle his felawes enviroun.
OVt of his bed is Iason rysen,
To wende his way he is not grysen,
To wynne the schepe,—if he haue grace,—
Now he these thinges of Medee has.
He is comyn in-to the halle
With Hercules and his men alle;
To Cetes the kyng he is forth went.
He asked anon, what it be-ment,
He asked at him and at hisen,
Whi he was so erly rysen.
'Sir,' he saide, 'be godis ore!
That I thus dwelle me rewes sore;
I wol ther-fore make asay
To wynne the flece—if I may:—
Ȝeue me leue and lete me go,
That I no lenger be ther-fro.'
¶ Cetes saide: 'I haue gret drede,
That thow be dede and not wel spede;
I schal therfore haue harm and schame,
For men wol rette on me the blame;
But that thow art of wil so bold,
That I may not at home the hold—
God, that this world made round,
Brynge the aȝeyn hol and sound!'
¶ Then was Iason wondir blythe,
He toke his armure and tyred him swythe,
¶ Qualiter Iason fecit bellum.
And ȝede forth the schepe to wynne
To that Ile that he was Inne.
When he was comen ther it was,
Ther he schulde ouer the water pas
In-to that Ile In-to a boteMS. abote.,
He kest his armes In fote hote
And rowed ouer with an ore.
When he was ouer that watur thore,
He armed him—as he coude wele—
Bothe in Iren and in stele,
And on his hed thanne sette
His trewe and trusti basenette,
And kest his scheld a-boute his hals,
And bere his spere with him als;
And ȝaf aboute him ful good kepe,
If he myȝt be war of the schepe.
And thedirward Iason him drow,
To wynne the flece—if he mow.
IAson is now on londe lyght,
Armed wel and nobly dyght.
When he was comen to that stede,
Ther he saw the schepes trede,
On the first thenne was he ware,
Where the nete were standyng thare,
Kestyng fir with-oute sese
Of her mouthe with-oute relesse,
That alle the sky with-oute doute
Was on fire alle a-boute.
But he thought then on his swetyng,
Of dame Medee and her kennyng:
Ful radly thenne the boyste he hent
That was with the oynement;
Al his visage and his face
Anoynted ther-with sone he hase.
He toke also that ymage bryȝt
That was of siluer made & dyȝt,
And hanged it aboute his hals a-boue,—
As Medee him bad do so for here loue,—
And turned it to the fir anon,
And the nete stood and loked ther-on;
And sette him doun meke & wyse
And redde his writ thanne thryse,
And when it was thries red,
To go to hem was not dred.
His perel thanne a-wey was rauȝt,
And with this nete faste he fauȝt:
The flaume of fir thenne on him caste
And brende his gode scheld on haste,
And his spere to his hond
To coles hit fel vpon the sond.
HE toke thenne that licour wete
And poured qwyk into the nete;
And when it was with-Inne therr by a later hand. lippes,
Faste to-gedur hit hem grippes,
That thei myȝt not her mouth vn-spere,
With hete Iason no more to fere.
When Iason hem thus discomfit
Thorow dame Medee that was perfit,
And saw a-boute that the aire
Was good and clene and ful fair,
And the nete myght fyght no more
Thorow here kennyng and here lore,
He toke hem be the hornes long
And here hedes a-boute wrong,
And loked, if thei were tame ynow,
And ladde hem thanne vnto the plow,
And ȝoked hem and dede hem drawe,
And turned that lond with-outen awe.
When he hadde don, he toke his way
To the dragoun ther he lay;
And the dragoun sey him ney,
He made thanne anMS. and. hidous cry,
And hissed loude, and brondes blew,
Fyr faste on Iason he threw,
And spitte venym and keste aboute;
But Iason ther-of hadde no doute:
Whan he herde that how loude he hissed,
Iason dede as he was wissed,
He toke the ryng that sche toke him
For drede of fir & of venym,—
That bare a stoneMS. astone., was fair and grene,—
And held hit sone hem be-twene,
And keste it doun be-fore his syght.
And whan the dragoun saw that lyghtMS. lyght, altered from syght.,
He lefte the fir and his brennyng
And al foule venym of his spittyng,
And loked stabli on that ston,
And he beheld euere ther-on,
And whil the dragoun ther-to ȝaff tent,
His swerd Iason out hent
And smot the hed fro the bouke,
And the ryng with him tokeMS. toke, altered from boke.
And in hold he gan hit do.
And when he hadde sclayn him so,
He wente—and so he myȝt wele—
And drow his tethe out of his chavele,
And sewe hem thanne vpon the land
That he hadde ered on that sand.
Armed men of hem ther sprong,
And echon on other faste dong,
Til alle were sclayn that were thore;
On lyue leffte there none wore.
¶ When Iason saw that ther was an ende
Off alle that wondir enchauntemende,
Toward the schepe be-gan he go
With-oute drede him to sclo:
With bothe his handes the schepe he sclow,
And fro the body the skyn he drow,
And bare with him that schepes skyn
With mochel Ioye & mochel wyn,
Til he come to his bote;
And lepe In with a merieMS. amerie. note,
And ouer to his felawes rode,
Ther Hercules him a-bode,—
Wondir blythe, Ioyful, and glad
That thei on lyue him had.
¶ Iason thenne and his Gregeis
Rode to Cetes & to his paleis;
When Cetes saw that Ioyful kyng
Iason that schepes skyn bryng,
He hadde ther gret envy
That he raff him that drury;
But euel semblant myȝt he non make
For Hercules and Iason sake,
But dede hem sitte by his side
And fair semblaunt made him that tyde.
Then come ȝong and old
The schepes skyn to be-hold,
Thei hadde of Iason gret meruayle,
How he it wan in batayle
Aȝens thair goddis wil and myȝt;
Thei hadde meruayle of suche a knyȝt.
IAson now the flece hath wonne,
The tydynges thorow the Cete is ronne,
Many a man come him to see,
Ther he was set by dame Medee.
He dwellyd ther a ful mon[i]theCf. ll. 1686 and 9407.,
And Hercules kyng Cetes withe,—
And til a tyme that he & sche,
And Hercules and his meyne,
Stale away with-Inne a nyȝt
And ȝede to schepe by sterre lyȝt;
And drow vp sail, and scheped sone,
And wente hom forth by the mone.
The wynd be-gan to rise & to blowe
And brouȝt hem home in a throwe
To the lond of Thesalye,
Iason and his companye.
¶ The word was told to Pelleus blyueb perhaps altered from v.
"That Iason was comen hom alyue,
And how he hadde brouȝt in-to Grece"—
'For-sothe' thei seyden—"the golden flece."
Wo was him of tho tythandis:
He wrong to-gedir bothe his handes
For sorwe and wo and care of herte,
That he was comen home in qwerte.
But when he saw him comande,
He wente a-ȝeyn him with fair semblande,
And welcometh him wel home,
And was glad of his come,
And thonked god that he ferd wele,
And ȝaf him the lond, eche a dele
Off Thesalye that lond aboute,
So he be-het him, or he wente oute.
¶ With this lond was he not payd;
He wolde be venged algate—he sayd—
Off Lamedone, the kyng of Troyene,
For he him dede reproue and tene.
To Hercules wel offte he spake:
"That he that charge wolde take;
¶ Hic Incipit Bellum.
For elles myȝt it not come to ende;"—
'For thow hast many a noble frende,
Many a knyȝtMS. aknyȝt., and many a kyng,
And wil be fayn at thi byddyng.'
Hercules seyde: 'ne drede the nouȝt!
Ful wel to ende it schal be brouȝt
To my worschepe, if my lyf last,
Or this ȝere be ful past.
Haue thow no care, ne make no mone!
But let me here with-al alone!
I schal so venge oure vilonye,
That thay schal ful sore abye.'
HErcules the charge hath tane;
He thenkes to be that kynges bane,
He thenkes him scle with his hond,
If he may come to his lond.
At hom is he no lengerwol he erased after lenger. abiden,
To Sportes is that knyȝt reden,—
That was a lond of Romanyealtered from Romayne.,—
Ther two bretheren werewere ought to be struck out. of chiualrye
Regned Inne by ther dayes.
Hercules ther the bretheren prayes
To wende with him ouer the see,
With armed folk a gret meyne,
To venge him on kyng Lamedon,
That kest him out and sir Iason
Off his lond, whan thai hem reste,
That dede him nother noye ne breste.
The bretheren bothe as knyȝtes hende
Thai were redi with him to wende,—
What day that he wolde assygne,—
With many worthi knyȝtes and digne.
Castor hete that on brother,
And Pollus called men that other.
Hercules toke leue at hom
And rode hym to Salom,
A lond that was to Grece longand,
That Thelaman thenne heldheld inserted by a later hand above the line. in his hand
That was kyng of gret renoun,
An hardy knyȝt, a boldMS. abold. baroun.
He prayed him that he wolde go
With him and other kynges mo,
That were of Grece, ouer the see,
Troye to brenne, that hye cete,
And venge him of that foule dispite
That Lamedon dede with gret vnriȝte—
Not long tyme sithen past,—
That he him of his lond cast.
¶ Thelaman seide: "hit schuld be don,
He was al redi at his bon
To wende with him, as good and hende,
Whan he aftir him wol sende."
Hercules thanne rode a-ȝeyn—
Off his be-heste he was ful fayn—
To Polleus kyng and bad that he
Schuld gader faste alle his meyne,
And alle that he myȝtwith written by a later hand over line between myȝt and purchase(s). purchaseMS. purchases.,
By loue, or awe, or any manaceMS. manaces..
¶ He tok him thanne the nexte way
To Pilon lond—right as I say;—
Pylon was a lond also
That longed that tyme Grece to,
And duk Nestor was lord and sireDux NestorOn the left side in MS..
Ouer al that lond and that Empire;—
And prayed him of his ffraunchessess perhaps written by the later hand.
That he wolde wende with him and hesseThe first s added by the later hand.,
To venge him on that kyng vilayn,
And helpe that he were ded and sclayn;
And reue al his bothe lyff and lym,
That wolde not soffre Iason ne hym
On day reste to take,
Nother for prayer ne for sake.
¶ Duk Nestor seide to Hercules:
'I am al ȝare with-outen les
To wende with the at thy biddyng,
And knyȝtes fele with me to bryng,
To venge the of that vilonye
And do him knowe his folye.
I schal make me and myne ȝare
With-outen dwellyng with the to fare.'
¶ Hercules was thanne wel blythe,
Aȝayn to Pelleus ȝode he swythe.
A[nd] whan he come to Thesalye,
He fonde a louelyMS. alouely. companye
Of kynges and knyȝtes to-gedur thore,
That for his help comen wore:
For thanne was comen Thelaman,
That douȝti kyng, that noble man;
And the bretheren bothe two,
Castor kyng and Pollus also,
With alle here men and here nauee
Stondyng redi on the see;
And Pelleus was al redi dyȝt
With many a bold baroun and knyȝt;
And here schippes were vitayled,
Ther mete and drynke schal non be fayled.
Consilium Grecorum contra TroianosThis line is in red paint..
Alle the kynges bene now to-gedur,
And hit was ful meri wedur:
That Marche was passed and Feuerer,
Hit was that tyme of the ȝere,
It was in-myddis of Averille;
T[h]e wedir was clere, the wynd was stille.
And alle these kynges to schip ȝedeFirst e indistinct in MS., might be o.
To taken the see with-oute drede;
Thei sayled forth day and nyȝt,
Til thei hadde of Troye a syȝtMS. asyȝt..
The sunne was set and al away doune,
Thanne thei hadde syght ferst of the toune.
Thei toke the hauen, whan it was derk,
With-outen wetyng of prest or clerk,
And kest here ankyr on that sond
And ȝede alle vpon the lond,
For ther was non that euere hem lette;
Hit was longe afftir the sonne sette,
That no man wiste of thair comyng,
Knyȝt ne sqwier, ne the kyng.
Eche man thanne his hors oute hentes,
And drow out Armure & here tentes,
Speres, dartes, helmys, and scheldes;
Thei sette here pauylons & here teldes,
And sette here wacche ouer-al abowte,
That thei myȝt reste with-oute dowte.
THe Gregeis ben londit and proud y-pyght
With gay tentis arayed aryght.
Longe ar the day be-gan to sprynge,
Pelleus sent aboute tythynge
To eche a kyng that there he lay
To come to him, or it were day.
Thei come echone to wete his wille;
When thei were comen and set doun stille,
Pelleus seide: 'my bretheren dere,
Now we ben to-gedur here,
Me thenketh it were good to speke,
How we myȝt sonest vs wreke
Off oure fomen and oure enemys,
To oure worschepe and to oure pris;
And saue vs fro perele,
How so it euere it be-fele,
And take the toun with myȝt and wyn,
And alle that euere is ther-In.'
HErcules, that douȝti man,
Be-fore alle other to speke he gan:
'Seres'—he sayde—'ȝoure skylles is good,
As ȝe haue seide, so vs be-hood.
This is myn avisement,
How thei schal sonest be schent:
Ȝiff ȝe wole alle that it be so,
That we parte oure men atwo—
Er it be day and sonne vp-rise,—
That we be seuered in alle wise:
And ȝe, sir kyng, and Thelaman,
And I also, and sir Iason,
Schal be to-gedre In that on ende;
To the toun and we schal wende,
Er it be day or any lyght,
That no man of vs haue a syght:
For we schal hide vs In the vynes,
And when the sonne is vppe and rises,
We schal holde vs stille and coy
By-side the ȝatis with-oute Troy.
And kyng Pollus, and duke Nestor,
And his brother kyng Castor,
Schal beleue here on the see
With alle here folk and here naue.
And Nestor schal ferst with hem dele
With alle his men and his eschele,
And Castor schal be my red haue
The secunde warde—so god me saue!—
And kyng Pollus schal haue the thridde
With alle the men that are him myd.
¶ And when the kyng hath tydandes,
That we are restid on his landes,
And he comes out with his baronage
To fyght with hem on this ryuage,
We schal entre in-to the toun
And breke the walles & throwe hem doun,
And scle that we ther-Inne fynde,
Honge, and brenne, and faste bynde,
And do dye that vs dosMS. do dos. dere.
Then schal we turne to were
And scle hem alle for vs & ȝow.
And thus thynketh me most for oure prow,
When thei may not fro vs fle
On no syde to no contre.'
¶ The kyng sayde: 'as haue I roo!'—
"That hit was good his rede to do,
Better red schuld thei haue non
To confounden sone here fon."
Thei parted here men In two parties;
And Hercules with his he hies
Vndir the toun In the greues
And hides him there in the leues;
And duk Nestor lefft stille thore
With alle that with him wore.
HIt is lyȝt day, the sonne is hye,
And Hercules the toun is nye
With-Inne the greues, ther leues sprynge;
And Lamedon has herd tydynge
That thay of Grece with gret feute
Bene in his hauene with gret naue.
He armed him with-outen any bode
With alle his men and to hem rode,
With scheld and spere an[d] swerd in hande;
¶ Hic veniunt ad pugnandum.
And whan Nestor saw hem comande,
He ordeyned him with-oute drede
With alle his men, and to hem ȝede;
And ther be-gan a strong cuntre,
Lamedon his dethe ther hent he;
He and his were wood opriȝt,
Or endit were that fyȝt.
LAmedon is armed wel,
His stede is trapped In iren & stel;
Out of the toun is he now ryden,
And his men, that he hath bydden
To go with him that ought were worthe,
Now are thei alle to-gedur forthe,
In-myddes the feld out of the toun
Ridyng ouer dale and doun,
Toward the see to the Gregeis
That he sei stonde in here harneis,
Redi dight with hem to ffyght
With scheldes brode and swerdes bryght.
¶ The Gregeis were not of hem dred;
Nestor that the vanwarde led,
Whan he saw hem come to him ward,
He busked to hem as hard
And toke the feld brod and large
With Many a scheldMS. ascheld., target, and targe;
And kepe him euene in the berd,
For he was nouȝt of him aferd.
A dredful dyn myȝt men thenne here,
A carful noyse, a dredfulMS. adredful. bere:
When thei were met to-gedur on hepis,
Euery man on other lepes,
And beris him doun, & throwys him vndur,
And leues himhim written by a later hand over line. dede stryken asondur;
A fel batayle was ther by-gonnen,
When thei were alle to-gedur ronnen.
The noyse was gret, the speres brake,
Whan eche man mette with his make;
Some were ded and thorow born,
And some hondes or legges lorn,
Some were wounded to the dethe,
Some myȝt not drawe her brethe;
Helmes were holed, and scheldes cloven,
With grete strokes here hedes houen.
Knyȝtes were feld, stedis strayed;
Wel bolde barons bledde and brayed,
To ther deth then were thei dyȝth
With swerdes scharpe and brondis bryȝth.
Gret sclauȝter was be-twene hem there,
When Troye and Grece to-gedur were.
But Troiens with gret multitude
At the laste hadde strokes rude,
But ȝit a-bak thei droff alle Nestor men
Ouer mose and ouer ffen.
¶ But when that noble kyng Castor
Saw how thei ferde with the duke Nestor,
And saw how he a-bak was dreuen,
And his scheld with strokes reuen,—
With alle his men thedur he hyed
And hertely the Troiens defied.
CAstor kyng, that douȝti knyȝt,
Is comen doun to that fyȝt,
To helpe Nestor, that worthi duk,
That he se Troyens so rebuk.
He sclow Troyens—as he were wode,—
He bare hem doun and schedde her blode;
So bitterly ferd he with:
Agayn hem hadde thei no gryth,
Thay myȝt no more with-stande his myght,
So he was fers, stalworthe, and wyght.
And so thei fouȝten and were wery,
Off his strokes thei were sory.
¶ But Lamedon, that douȝti kyng,
When he saw his men fleyng,
With alle the men In his warde
He ran thedur as a lyparde,
And sclow Gregeis here and there
As a lyon fers and fere.
He felde doun some, and some fflow,
And of here hors doun hem drow,
And lete hem lye, and some storuen,
Sore woundid and al for-koruen,
Many he greued and al to-hewed;
That he was knyȝt, ful wel he schewed:
He ferd with hem so sorily,
That thay discomfith were wel ny.
BVt when Pollus saw that syght,
The Gregeis were so discomfyght:
With alle his men he thedur ran
And sclow of the Troyens many a man.
Many men was be-twene hem sclayn,
When thei were alle on the playn
To-gedur mette with thaire batayles;
Eche man other ther assayles.
¶ But Lamedon saw, his men fauȝt
Ouer myȝt and out of mauȝt,—
What with loue and what with awe,—
A litel a-bak he made hem drawe
And gedered hem alle on an hepe
As a witti kyng, myȝti, and ȝepe.
¶ Duke Nestor aboue his scheld
Lamedon that tyme be-held:
He saw alle men do his byddyng,
He hoped therfore, he was here kyng.
Alle thynges lefft—to him he ȝede,
To scle him, if he myȝt spede.
¶ But Lamedon saw him comande
Towardes him with spere In hande,
He smytes his stede and slakes his rayne,
And rod to him as faste a-gayne
An[d] brak his spere in many a splentMS. asplent.
On duk Nestor In that dynt;
He harmed him nouȝt worth a thongMS. athong.,
For his Armes were so strong,
And elles hadde he ben sclayn
With Lamedon on the playn.
¶ But Nestor on an-other wyse
Smot Lamedon by-fore al hyse:
He smot him on his scheld so
That he cleue hit euen In-two,
And bare him doun to the grounde
And ȝaf him there an hidous wounde;
But he lepe vp with gret spede,
When he was born thus fro his stede,
And drow his swerd raply & smert—
As hardi man and bold of hert—
And made him romme aboute and way
To duke Nestor—the sothe to say.
A Newe-made knyȝt, that hyȝte Cedar,
Off Lamedon, his lord, was war
Among that prese faught on fote;
He thouȝthe to do ther-of gode boteb altered out of u.:
He smot Nestor on his gold plate,
That he ȝede doun in-myddes the gate;
He bar him fro his hors in fyght
By-fore his lord, in the kynges syght.
Whan Lamedon saw Nestor felde,
He thoght his strok scholde be ȝelde
That he ȝaf him at her Iustyng:
Lamedon, that worthi kyng,
He hyed him faste to Nestor tho
And ȝaf strokes y-nowe and mo,
He brak his coyfe and his ketil-hat,
That to his hed sore it sat.
He smot him so ryght in the face,
That he hath lorn his solace;
For he was ther so for-bled
And with that kyng so ouerled,
That he hadde dyed and ben for-don,
Ne hadde him come socour son.
¶ But then come to that stour
Many a GrekMS. agrek. to his socour
And fro the kyng of Troye him reffte,
And elles had he his lyff ther leffte;
Out of the pres [thei] him ladde,
For of his lyff were thei adradde.
And Lamedon, that douȝti man,
A noble stede the whiles wan
And lep vp qwyk with-oute fayle
And strok forth in that batayle.
¶ Pollus brother, kyng Castor,
Saw Cedar, that felde duke Nestor;
Wo was him for that fallyng,
He thouȝth to make of him vengyng:
He rode to him, as he were wode,
Vpon a stedeMS. astede. worth mechel gode.
¶ But ther be-fel another knyȝt,
That was of Troye, Secundam hyȝt,—
He was of Cedar blod and kyn,
He was seker his ney cosyn,—
He saw, how Castor wolde haue him smetyn
Sydlyng, or he hadde weten,
That wold he for non awȝt:
Be-twene hem the strok he cawȝt
And brast on kyng Castor his spere;
But he myȝt not him doun bere,
Castor spere was tow and strong,—
Ther was non strenger in al that throng;—
He smot Secundam in the syde
A gret wounde and a wydeMS. awyde..
WHen Cedar saw his Cosyn woundid,
He was for del al confounded:
With drawen sword—as a wode man—
Cedar thanne to Castor ran;
Cedar than in that wode brayd
On Castor so wonderly layd,
That his helm al to-roffe,
And his basenet to his hed droffe.
He wounded him in his visage
For his ffoly and his outrage,
That hit in alle his lyff was sene,—
And feld him doun vpon the grene;
And his stede from him cauȝt
And his sqwyer him by-tauȝt.
¶ Now Castor is from his hors born,
His stede was taken and fro him lorn;
Opon his fete he stode and fauȝt,
Many a strokMS. astrok. Cedar him rauȝt,
And other mo that ther dede stande.
But kyng Pollus was ner-hande
And saw, how Cedar & many other
Ferd with kyng Castor, hisMS. Castoris. brother;
Kyng Pollus then come him ney
Thedur with al his company,
He hadde with him In his eschele
Seuen hundrid knyȝtes gode and lele.
He ferde as he hadde y-raued,
So fayn he wolde his brother haue saued.
He rod thanne al aboute
To his fomen with gret route,
And amonges hem [made] ful gret pay;
To his brother he made him way,
And halp him fro his foos hondes,
And felde Troyens on the sondes,
And brouȝt to Castor the Troyes stede,
And halp him vp at his gret nede.
POlleus kyng brende as the fyr
For gret wratthe, onde & irMS. hir.,
That he had so his brother dyght
And warisched him of his myght.
He saw a knyȝt agayn him—
His name was Eliachim,
The kynges sone Sartaginis,
And Lamedon Cosyn also y-wys—
He smot the knyȝt with al his myȝt
Ryght be-fore the kynges syȝt,
That he died be-fore his eyen
With mechel wo and mechel pyn.
¶ Kyng Lamedon that be-held
His cosyn dyed In the feld,
Ȝeld the gost be-fore him there,
He wepte for him ful many a tereMS. atere..
He sette his horn to his mouthe
And blew thries, as he wel couthe;
When he hadde blowen the thridde blast,
The knyȝtes come aboute him fast,
Thei asked him, what him was;
Lamedon saide to hem: 'alas!
Se ȝe not my cosyn dere
Lye be-fore me ded here,
The kynges sone of Artage?
Pollus sclow him In his rage.
Now with alle the myght that ȝe konne
Venge now my sistir sone!'
¶ When Lamedon hadde thus spoken
Off his fomen to be wroken,
Among the Grues then he presed
And sclow many, or he sesed:
He bare kynges and lordes doun
Off gret prise and gret renoun;
The Troyens then sclow the Grues,
That thei for wo chaunged thaire hewes;
Thei were wounded and sore ybete,
For thei were so ouersete,
Thei fledde a-way and lefft here place;
The Troyens thanne hem gon chace
And droff hem to the sees bank,
And hewes of hem armes & schank.
The Gruwes for-sothe hadde deye[d] alle—
So wo that tyme hem was by-falle
With gret wo and encomberMS. encombrer.—
Ne hadde ther come a messangerMS. amessanger.
Out of Troye and brouȝt tydynges
To hem of Troye and to here kynges:
"That proude Griffons hath taken his toun
And robbed hit and caste it doun,
And sclayn alle that thei ther founde
Stark ded vpon the grounde."
And he him-self that brouȝth tythand
Might not wel on his feet stande
Ne on his hors wel ride,
For he was smetyn thorow the syde,
He myȝt not wel sitte in pese;
Troyens clepid that man Dotes,
That Lamedon tho tydynges brouȝt;
Ther lyues alle thei set at nouȝt.
WHan Lamedon these tydynges herde,
With Mechel del thenne he ferde;
Lord god! what him was wo!
For he wiste neuere wheder to go.
But at the laste his horn he blew,
And his good men that him knew
Come aboute him wondur blyue,
As faste as thei myȝt driue.
¶ As thei reden to Troye ward,
Thei saw come many a lordMS. alord.,
Many Gryffons on a ffrape
With mychel spedeMS. speche. and mychel rape.
Thay loked be-hynde hem to the see:
Off hem that fledde how it myȝt be?
He saw hem come be-hynde his bak
Afftir him a wel gode schak.
¶ Thenne hadde the Troyens wel gret awe,
For thei wist neuere whedir to drawe,
Thei were be-twene her fomen set.
Whan Hercules and thay were met,
Hit was gret del and pite
What martirdom he made to be;
For thai of Grece were mo than thay
The double-fold—sothe to say.
¶ Hercules rides oueral and rennes—
As a fulmard doth afftir the hennes—
Al forsothe that he tas he sles;
Til he haue doun, he wol not ses.
He makes aboute him styes and wayes,
His myȝt on hem he sayes.
¶ As he rode so aboute raykand,
¶ Lamedon occisus est.
Lamedon sey he fyghtande,
That many a Greu hath sclayn that day;
He rod to him—so weylaway!—
And smotMS. smot. in-two bothe nekke and bon,
And kest the hed fro him anon;
Among the horses ther thei ran.
The Troyens then no counsel can,
When thei sey here lord so dede;
Off hem-self kan thei no rede,
Alle ȝede to dethe that hem abode;
Ther were ffewe that thennes rode,
For thei myȝt no ferthere fle
To toure ne toun ne to cite.
NOw Lamedon is ded & sclayn,
And alle the knyȝtes on the playn
With-oute the toun on the wolde,
Ther ne was leefft nother ȝong ne olde.
And thei of Grece ben went to Troye
With mery herte and mechel Ioye:
Alle that thei mette ther-In,
Thei dede to dethe, er thei wolde blyn.
Thei dwelled ther a fulMS. aful. monitheThe MS. first had month, a later hand [?] made i out of t, put an e behind the h, and altered this e to t; so the MS. now reads moniht.
In gode pees and in grithe,
Til thei hadde sought the toun aboute
And robbed hit with-oute doute
Off al the good ther-Inne was,
Er thay wolde thennes pas.
And alle the Maydenes that thei myght fynde,
That comen were of gentil kynde,
That louely were, ȝong, and free,
Thei ledde with hem ouer the see;
And helde hem there in gret seruage,
That were come of gret parage.
As thei of Grece the toun sought
¶ Ciuitas Troieanus destructus est.
And mochel wo the Troyens wroght,
Thei fond a fair Mayde and a curtays
In Lamedon kynges paleis,
That was of wonder gret beute,
The fairest may that man myȝt se:
Long, and smal, and riȝth tretis
Was that mayden schapen y-wys;
That blisful, that swete wyght
Dame Oxonie forsothe sche hight;¶ Oxonia Filia L'. Regis.
Sche was the kynges douȝter TroyeneMS. troyene; the first e written by later hand over line.,
Getyn in wedlak on the qwene.
¶ Hercules toke Oxonie,
That kynges douȝter of genterie,
And ȝaf here Thelaman to mede,
In-to the toun for he furst ȝede;
For he was the furst man
That toke Troye, when thei it wan.
So weylaway! that sche was born!
So fele gode men for here were lorn
Afftirward wel many a day,
As ȝe afftirward here may;
For bi here roos al the wo,
That sixti thousand knyȝtes and mo
Deyed for her, and al here kyn,
And gode Ector, here owne Cosyn,
And gode Troyle, and Dephebus,
And here brother Priamus,
And Hectuba the gode qweneThis line stands behind the next one in MS.,
And here douȝter Pollexene;
And alle that to Troye longed
For hir rape the deth ther fonged.
Thay of Grece haue robbed the toun,
And brend houses & throwen hem doun;
Thay lefft right nouȝt that ought was worth,
That thei ne bar hit with hem forth
To ther scheppis and her naue;
And sayled hom in sauete
With alle þeOver line by later hand. riche tresor of Troye,
And leuyd ther-on with moche Ioye,
For thai were riche for eueremore
The while thei on lyue wore.
¶ But Thelaman, that worthi kyng,
Dame Oxonie, that lady ȝong,
Held alle his lyff to his leman
And nold her not to his spouse tan;
And sche was grettere than he
Or alle his kyn by suche thre;
Of her so was his lykyngA later hand has made many scrawl|ings and scribblings in this and other lines on this page.
And mo also of his ofspryngMS. osspryng..
But of here In his lechurie
WanMS. Whan. he that knyȝt of chiualrie:
Ayax Thelamonyus,
That was so bold and vigurous,
Afftirward that atOver line by later hand. Troyes batayle
Wroght many aOver line by later hand. gret meruayle.—
Thus was Troye formas lorn and wonne,—
Fille the cuppe who-so konne!
TRoye is downe and al to-rent
And lyth on the pament:
Ther nys nouȝt stondende an hous
In al the toun to hide a mousMS. amous.,
That hit isOver line by later hand. downe and ouerthrowen,
Ther may the wynd wel colde blowen.
That tyme that this chaunce be-fel
Priamus—that sothe to tel—
A noble knyȝt and a ful fair,
That was the kynges sone & his air,
Was not at home in that contre:
¶ Hic Priamus venit ad patriam suam.
He was fer out of that Cite,
A strong Castel to be-sege,
That was holden with his men lege
That were aȝeyn his fadir rebelle.
Off these tythandes herde he telle,
He laffte the sege that was be-gonne,—
And elles for-sothe it hadde be wonne
The castel certes, hadde he a-byden;
But he is thennes with his men ryden
With carful herte and sore wepyng,
Til he wiste the sothe of this tythyng.
¶ Toward Troye he toke the way
With alle his men, the next that lay;
Til he come ther he neuere belan.
Than was he a soriMS. asori. man,
When he saw al downe and brend,
And his frendes dede and schend.
He sorwede day and nyȝth,
Til he hadde ben a-wroken be his myȝth;
He leuyd euere in gret wayment,
Til he was ney-honde yblent.
¶ But at the laste his wo he leffte
And sayde, "he wolde make Troye effte
Wel stronger than it was ore,
Widdur, lengur, and mochel more."
¶ He dede seche ouer-al and sende
Afftir Masons fre and hende,
Sklatteres, Masons, and Carpenter,
And other Men of alle mister,
That schulde be-gynne to make that werk.
Priamus hath sette the merk,
How long, how brod it scholde be;
The wryghtes haue hewen many a treMS. atre.,
Postes, Pileres Many and grete;
The Masons on the stones bete,—
Bothe of Marbil white and gray,—
To make the werk as I ȝow say:
Euere was a stonMS. aston. of Marbil gray,
And another of white, of alle that lay.
Many an ymage ther was grauen,
Wel smethe were thei alle schauen,
To sette with-outen vpon the walles.
On here chambres and on here halles
Ther was wroght alle maner best,
That was walkynge In any forest,
Were koruen on the walles enviroun.
Many fair hous was in that toun.
MAny worthi paleys and heye
YmadeMS. ymade. was ther of Masonrye.
Sithen god made first the werld,
Off suche on haue ȝe not herd
That was soBy another hand over line. mechel of strengthe:
Hit was thre dayes iornes of lengthe,
And as moche it was of brede—
As men doth on boke rede.
Suche a tounMS. atoun. was neuere ȝit non,
Ne neuere schal be—by god alon!—
As longe as this world schal stande,
In cristendome ne in hethen landeMS. hande..
The wal fro the ground streygthe
Were thre hundred fete on heygthe;
The lowest cote with-Inne the close,
That was werst and lest of lose,—
Sicurly asI erased after as in MS. say alle men,—
Was foure-score fete of heygthe and ten.
With-oute the toun is mad a dike,
Ther was neuere toun that hadde it like!
Hit was diked doun plum,
That no man myȝth ther-ouer com.
And ȝit he dede a paleis make
With-oute the diche, of many a stake,
That no man schulde the diche come to
Ne no harm to the toun do.
Afftir thanne so dede he make
A paleis for his owne sake,
And a rennandMS. arennand. fair reuer.
But I wol not ther-of speke here,
For afftirward schal ȝe here and see,
How [was] that werk of gret noble.
PRiamus is lord and kyng—
Afftir Lamedons endyng—
Off Troie and many fair Cite
And of many other riche contre.
He hadde a lady to his wyff,
Hectuba, that louely lyff;
On here gat he children fyue,
The douȝtiest men that were on lyue.
¶ Gode Ector the furst hyght;¶ Ector.
God made neuere a beterMS. abeter. knyȝt
Off douȝtinesse and of chiualrie
In cristendome ne in paynie.
The secunde brother het Paris,¶ Paris.
The fairest knyȝt that lyued ywis.
The thridde name was Dephebus,¶ Dephebus.
A doughti knyȝt and vertuus;
He was wys to ȝeue consayl
Off alle that euere fel to batayl.
The fourthe hight Elenus;¶ Elenus.
The ȝongest doughti Troylus,¶ Troylus.
A doughtier man than he was on
Off hem alle was neuere non,—
Saue Ector, that was his brother,
That neuere was goten suche another,
And Elenus, that was the fourthe,
The wisest knyȝth a-boue erthe:
Off alle science of Clergye,
Retorike, and astronomye,
He was forsothe a wis manMS. wisman.,
Off alle science that any clerk can.
¶ Off Hectuba also gete he
Gentyl ladyes doughtres thre:
The eldest, Clusa, weddid was¶ ClusaOn the left side in MS..
Vnto that traytour EueasThe MS. has Eueas throughout, cf. also ll. 5521, 7647, 7650, &c.,
That afftirward trayed Troye;
God ȝeue him sorwe and neuere Ioye!
¶ The secunde was of mechel pris,
A witti womman and a wys;
Sche couthe alle the seuene science,
Men dede here gret reuerence
For here wit and here konnyng;
Cassandre thei called that may ȝyng.¶ CassandreOn the left side in MS..
The thrydde was comely on to sene;
Men clepid here dame Pollexene;¶ PollexeneOn the left side in MS..
Ther lyued non so fair a wyght
In al this world to mannes syght;
Ther fayled no vertu In here body,
Saue that god made here dedly.
And ȝit gat he on other wymmen
Thritti other doughti men,
That were euere gode knyghtes and sekir,
Bold and strong in eche bekir.
Consilium inter Troyanos ad pugnandumThis line in red paint..
WHen Troye was wroght to the ende,
Priamus thoght In his a-tende,
That he wolde make a gret feste
With alle burgeis moste and leste:
The day is set, the feste is made;
When thei hadde eten and were glade,
¶ Priamus spak to hem an hey,
With sykyng herte and heuy—
He seyde: 'lordynges ȝe ben here alle!
The moste partie to me schal falle,
And we haue set a-ȝeyn oure toun
That thei of Grece hadde cast a-doun;
Thei haue don schame and vilonye
To me and to alle my progenye,
And to ȝow, gode men, also:
What schame myȝth thei vs more do
Then scle oure kyng In oure lond,
And bere away alle that thei fond,
And robbeMS. roble, cf. 2675. oure toun and brenne,
And lede a-way wymmen and men,
And holde hem there In foule bondage
That we held here of gret parage?
That was—lo—a fouleMS. afoule. meschaunce!
It were now tyme to take vengaunce
That haue now oure frendes schent
And vs brought now in gret torment.
For we haue now a Cite strong,
Wide, brode, and wonder long,
To herbare men with-oute mesure.
For thei may not a-ȝeyns vs dure,
In oure owne lond to do vs dere—
Nought the value of a pere!
For we haue frendes gret plente,
That ben alied to ȝow and me,
That schal ben to vs in mayntenaunce
With alle her men and lyaunce,
And we ben riche and haue tresoure,
Siluer and gold with-oute mesure,
To make of vitayles purueaunce
To oure allers sustenaunce.
Ȝe wot wele, that alle Assye
Is vndir me, the moste partye;
Wherfore me thenke: by resoun and skyl
We may vs venge, if that we wyl.
But for batayles ben euere in doute,
And er that it be brouȝt aboute,
No man wote who schapis the better,
I rede that we sende oure letter
Or elles Message by som lordyng
To hem of Grece that dide this thyng,
To make a-mendes of thaire trespas
That thei vs dede In this plas,
Off that thei brende and doun threwe
That we haue made a-ȝeyn newe,
And that thei robbed so oure lond
And sclow oure frendes with here hond.
¶ And ȝif thei nyl amendes make,
Ne do so mochel for oure sake
With any other amende,
My sustir home that thei sende
That thei holde ther in hordome,
Me to vylany and to schome,—
Ȝit scholde we thole her errour
That thei haue don to vs & our,
That ther be no more ado
Be-twene hem & vs, if thei do so.
And thus me thinke we may sum-dele
Agayn men be excused wele.'
¶ Alle that euere sat and stode,
Saide, "his consail was gode;"
But thei seide, "it most be
A witti man to passe the see,
That on this Message schuld go,
That thei for wratthe dede him not sclo."
The wisest man that thei had
Was Antenor; the kyng him bad
That he schulde on that erande wende,
To wete of hem alle the ende.
¶ Antenor dede the kynges byddyng:
He dyght his schip with-oute dwellyng
And spedde him faste on his viage,
To doMS. To to do. the kynges gret messageMS. gret me message..
So longe he sayled day and nyght,
To Thesalye he come right,
Ther Pelleus kyng dwelled than
With Many a lord and many a worthiMS. aworthi. man.
¶ Hic Rex Troiani misit nuncium ad Regem GrecorumThese two lines in red paint..
ANtenor on londe is lyght,
Wel arayed and semely dyght;
To Pelleus kyng he is now went
And salued him faire verament.
And he ȝede faire to his gretyng
And asked of him, "what tithyng,
Whennes he come, and what he was,
And what made him the see to pas
In-to contrays, and what he soughte?"
And bad that he schulde gabbe noughte.
¶ Antenor saide: 'sir, by the rode!
To telle the sothe so me be-houede.
I schal ȝow telle ffor no Latyn,
Off I schal therfore be sclayn—
For I am sworen be myn othe,
To say the sothe for leeff or lothe:
¶ I come on Message fro the kyng of Troye
To ȝow, sir kyng,—so haue I ioye!
The kyng of Troye to ȝow me sende
And asketh, whether ȝe wol amendeIn the MS. line 2001 after l. 2002!
The harme, the schame, the vylony,
The Mansclaughter and the robbery
Off his fadir that ȝe sclow,
And of good that ȝe fro him drow,
And of his sustir Oxonie,
That ȝe haue here In ȝoure balye
And make that ladi an hore to be
That is gentelour, then ȝe or he
That holdes hir here on suche a manereMS. amanere.?
Sendes him home his sustir dere,
And ȝit wol he alle other trespas
For-ȝeue, when he hir at home has,
And be in qwyete and in pees,
And his fader deth relese
And alle the good that ȝe haue of his,
That no contake be-twene ȝow ris.'
WHen Pelleus kyng had herd this,
He was angered for-sothe y-wys,
With Priamus was he ful wroth;
Fro Antenor a litel he goth,
His mautalent to refrayne
That dede his herte mochel payne
For vilens wordes of Priamus.
To Antenor thanne seyde he thus:
He seyde, "he nolde ȝeue a fecche,
He holdes him certes but a wrecche"—
'And thow that hast these tythynges brouȝt:
By him that al this world hath wrouȝt!
But thow go with-oute dwellynge,
In dispite of thi lord thi kynge
I schal do the to vyle dethe
With-oute consayle or other rede!'
¶ Antenor for ferd schoke,
With-oute leue his way he toke
Toward his schip wonder faste
And sayled forth, til he were paste
Out of his lond in-to the see
Fer fro him In his contre.
And sayled forth in his way
Many a nyȝth and many a day,
Til he were comen to Salenne;
A fair Cite ther was thenne,
Ther Thelaman dwelled In
That þat Mayden held in syn.
¶ When Antenor herde that tythand,
That Theleman was kyng of that land,
Out of his schip to him he soughte;
And asked, "whether he wolde oughte
With him that he aftir spired?"
With the Troye[n]s was he a-greued,
For he wiste wel, if that thei myȝth,
Thei wolde him reue the worthi wyȝth.
¶ Antenor sayde: 'sir, herkenes now!
The kyng of Troye send me to ȝow
And bad ȝow for ȝoure curtesye
Sende him home dame Oxonye,
Out of his lond that ȝe haue led,
That neuere wolde that lady wed,
But holde hir with ȝow here
As an hore and hores fere,
That is come of more honour
Than ȝe, sir kyng, and alle ȝour.
And ȝif ȝe wole this so do,
In pees may ȝe for him be so.'
THelaman stode & these wordes herde,
He swore by him that made this werlde:
"Out of his lond but if he hied,
If he ther-Inne myght be spyed,
He wolde him brynge In-to foule endyng
For Priamus loue, that fals kyng;"—
'But say thi kyng, that me meruayles—
That nyse Cokard—what him ayles,
Off loue or pees to praye me,—
AndMS. That. alle hise, him, and the,
And alle that ben ȝow toward;
But say, that I make forward:
He schal neuere haue that blisful birde,
But he hir wynne with dynt of swerde;
[I] wan that lady Oxonye
At Troyes toun with Chiualrie.
Say thi kyng: "be no wayes
I wol not do that he me prayes."
But hye the faste out of my lond,
Or thow schalt deye with myn hond!'
ANtenor a-wey him spedde,
Off Thelaman was he a-dredde;
To his schip wel faste he ȝede
And sayled forth with gret spede,
Til he come to Acayas;
A worthi Cite thanne ther was,
Ther Castor dwelled and kyng Pollus.
When Antenor herde telle thus,
That these bretheren bothe were
In the toun to-gedur there,
He come to hem and tolde his tale
By-fore hem bothe in the sale.
But sicurly the kynges bothe,
When thei herde him speke, thei were wrothe;
In gret wratthe spak Castor
To the knyght sir Antenor,
And bad him sese of his spekyng,—
"Or he schulde deye, be heuene kyng!"
¶ He seyde: 'falawe, what-so thow art—
He that made the come hidirward,
I holde him a nyseMS. anyse. cokard,
I wot no man of him a-ferd;
A nyseMS. anyse. Iauel is he that the sendis,
That we schal make him amendis
Off alle thinges that is ydon,
Or sende him hom his suster son.
¶ What wrecche is he that biddis vs thus,
When we hate him and he hates vs?
Vs is leuere werre than pees;
We wol not, that he relees
His fader dethe ne no-thyng elles,—
As thow thi message here vs telles—
For we dede his sire neuere suche schame,
That we ne schal do to him the same!
Other amendis wil we not make;
But In his dispite and for his sake
We schul do the to dethe vyle,
Iff thow dwelle here any while!'
ANtenor for wratthe wex al pale,
With-oute leue a-way he stale,
As faste as he myȝth skippe;
He toke the way to his schippe
And sayled a-way to the see,
For ther durst he no lenger bee.
To wende for-sothe to ende his nedis,
To Pilon faste the knyght him spedis;
Ther duk Nestor the knyght be-held,
And his erand as-tyde he teld.
Duk Nestor was ful of wratthe and ire
Toward Antenor, that proudely sire,
That for tene chaunged alle his hewe:
He wex ȝolow, bloo, and blewe.
Antenor sees his colour meued,
That he come there ful sore him rewed;
He hoped neuere thenne to wende
With-outen deth and schamely ende.
Nestor sayde: 'thow seruaunt lythur,
How artow so bold these wordes wethur
To speke hem here in my presence,
In my wratthe and myn offence?
Certes! ne were my genterye,
My fredom, and my curtesye,
Thow scholdest not passe fro me on lyue:
That I schulde thi chekis on-sundir dryue,
Or I scholde In ȝoure kynges dispit
Thi bodi with hors to-drawe hit
Thorow-out my lond, and take vengeaunce
Off thi proude wordis and contenaunce.
But hye the faste of my sight,
Or—here my trowthe I the plight!—
Thow schalt deye with mechel pyne,
If thow dwelle longe in lond myne!'
Antenor stale away fro him,
He dredde to lese bothe lyff and lym;
He stale to schipe and sayled a-way,
For he dredde Nestor ay.
He sayled forthe on his iornay,
Til he come to Troie contray;
Ther he fond manye on glade,
For his come gret Ioye thei made.
ANtenor is comen to Troye,
Off his comyng thei made Ioye,
Al that lond and that Cite.
To Priamus as-tyde went he
¶ Hic Rex Troianorum iratus est.
And told "what answere that he hadde,
And how the lordis alle him badde
Out of here lond that he schulde ffle,
Or he scholde honge on a treMS. atre.,
Or al to-drawe him lym fro lym
In dispite forsothe of hym;"
'For thei seyde alle by on sawe,
Thei tolde right nauȝt of thyn awe,
For of thi loue kepe thei nought;
Thi wratthe echon thay sette at nought.
And thi sustir most be bought
Wyth dynt of swerd, or thow getest hir nought.'
WHen Priamus this vndir-stode,
Wel coldful tho was his blode,
Gret sorwe in his herte made,
Ther myght no man that day him glade.
Then was the kyng bothe wan and pale
And sat doun stille In the sale;
He was an-angred and greved,
That Antenor was so repreued
On his message a-monges the Grues;
That he come ther, wel sore him rewes,
And that thei set by him so lyght;
He thoght be wreken, if he myght,
Off here euel dedis and answeres,
And so he wol, and so he sweres.
Anon he dede afftir sende
The grete of Troye that were hende,
And spake thus to alle that wore
Comen then to-gedir thore;
He seide: 'lordynges, ȝe wot wel alle,
That ben now sembledMS. semblent. In this halle,
I sente message—as ȝe me consayled,
Ful wele I wende hit wolde avayled—
To the kynges and lordes of Grece,
That robbed ȝow and this contrece,
That Lamadon, my fader, sclow,
And ȝoure kynrade to hem drow:
If thei wolde amendes make
For curtesye and for oure sake,
That we myght In pes be so,
That ther were no more a-do;
Or if thei wold hit not amende,
That thei wolde my sustir sende,
And I and ȝe wold be In pes,
And alle oure harmes make reles.
But Antenor, oure Messager,
Is come home, as ȝe se her;
Ȝe haue alle herd of his tythynges,
And what answere fro hem he brynges:
Thei say thei haue of vs no drede,
Thei wol non amendes bede;
Ne my sustir—the sothe to say—
Fro hem wol thei not sende a-way,
But holde hir there in feble herues
In my dispite and my repreues.
Now schal alle men on vs wondur,
If we so foule schal be put vndur,
That we no-wyse dar take vengaunce
Off hem that dede vs this greuaunce,
But sendes vs word: "that hem liketh wele
Of that thei dede eche a deleMS. adele.,
And that thei greued vs neuere so sore,
That thei wole greue vs more."
Wolde it neuere god, that it were so
Al that thei say thai myght do!
For I holde vs now—be my fay!—
Better and strenger than thay,
And we ben wel kynned and fyn,
And haue a tounMS. atoun. wil vs tyn.
¶ Wherfore, lordes, me thynketh: gode wore
That we sone strengthe kyd hem thore,
That vs so foule hath reuyled.
I wolde, that thei were be-gyled,
As thei dede vs here of this toun,
Whan thei brende hit & kest it doun.
I wold, we sente ouer the see
Men of Armes gret plente,
That myght haue ryued vn-warned thore
On some of hem, or thay were wore,
And slee and robbe, brenne and reue
Alle that thei founde, and no-thyng leue;
Or if thei myght som ladi wynne,
That comen were of gentil kynne,
That we may holde in oure baylie
In-stede of dame Oxonye.'
¶ The lordes ros vp alle that there ware,
An[d] seide trewely: "thei wold not spare
Body ne good ne non other thyng,
But al schulde be at his byddyng,
His comaundement and his wille
And of his fomen to fulfille."
¶ Then was Priamus wondur blythe,
And thonked hem an hundred sythe.
Thai toke here leue hom to go
And toke hem leue on goddis half tho;
And bad hem thenke on alle thyng
To be euere redi at his sendyng.
Alle the lordes ben home gone;
Priamus is left al alone,
Saue his children and his meyne
Off that contre that were pryue.
¶ Consilium inter Regem Troianum et Filios suos.
He is anoyed and al agrised,
That thay of Grece him so dispised;
The water brast out at his eyne,
So hadde his herte mochel pyne.
He saw his children that were him by,
And spak to hem thus al an hy;
He sais: 'lordynges, be ȝe ought,
What schame these Grues haue vs wrought!
How thei sclow ȝoure gode aȝel!
And ȝet ben thei of herte so fel,
That thai ȝoure aunte foule fro ȝow holde
In hordam certes, as vs is tolde,
In schame of ȝoures and gret dispite.
Me thynketh ther-of, that with alle ȝoure myȝte,
Whil ȝe are ȝonge at ȝoure begynnyng,
That ȝe sette ther-on alle ȝoure konnyng:
Off hem, that were my [fader] bane
And haue my suster fro me tane,
To venge ȝow, ȝif that ȝe mowe;
For litel prise sette thai be ȝowe.
ANd thow, Ector, myn eldest sone,
On my blessyng and on my benysone,
Take this charge holly on the,
I praye the for the loue of me!
For I am fer passed in elde,
That I may not my-selff welde,
And thow art hardi, strong, & bolde
Be-fore alle men, and most of tolde;
Thow passes alle men of strengthe & myght,
Men knowen nowher so hardy a knyght,
That arn vnbuxom, sterne, and stought,
Thow makest hem fayn to the to lought2303-4. MS. stought for 'stout' and lought for 'lout.' These forms show that, to the scribe, gh was not guttural.;
Thi bretheren alle In hardinesse
Thow passes hem In doughtinesse.
I make the ther-fore lord and sire
Off alle my lond and myn Empire
And also of thi brotheres alle
And alle that euere vnto vs falle;
Prynce, knyȝt, duke, and kyng,
Alle schal be at thi byddyng.
And take this thyng on the be-dene,
For I make me here-of alle clene
And take hit the here In thyn hond;
For strenger than I thow art to fond
Suche lordschepe to vndirtake.
Say not nay, sone, for my sake!'
Ector sayde: 'be god almyght!
I am most holden by skyl and right
To venge the dethe of myn aȝel
In stoures stiffe and strong batayle,
For I am eldest—as ȝe haue told—
Off alle my bretheren ȝong and old;
Therfore schulde I be resoun be best
And al my wit ther-to kest.
But on thyng, fader, I pray ȝow, dere,
That ȝe wolde now me here
And haue it in gode memorie:
That ȝe be wele a-vysed and sclye,
What ende ȝe hope hit wol come to,
For if it be bygunnen so
And it come to no good ende,
Then be we schent and alle oure frende,
And schal haue a schameMS. aschame. ther-by
With-outen ende and vilony.
I haue herd say and red in boke,
That a wis manMS. wisman. schal not loke
Afftir a thing that is atte begynnyng,
But euere-more afftir the endyng;
For many thynges begynnes wele
And in the ende fares amys euery dele.
Wyte ȝe not, that alle Aufrik
And al Europe euery stik
Is vndirput to hem of Grece?
How riche thei ben of rentes and fece?
And how the lond is ful of knyȝtes
That doughti ben and strong of fyghtes?
Thay ben richer for-sothe then we,
And mo als by thousandis thre!
For Oxonye is not so good,
That ȝe, fader, and alle oure blood
For hir scholde to vile deth be brouȝt;
Here ramsoun were to dere bouȝt.
Sche may deye with-Inne a throwe,
And sche is old—alle men knowe;—
Leue therfore that ȝe haue thoght,
That ȝe ne turne ȝoure wil to noght!
Ne thenk not, fader,—I ȝow pray—
That I thes wordes vnto ȝow say
For drede of herte ne cowardyse!
By god of my myȝt and seynt Denyse!
But for I wold, thorow prosperite
Ȝoure gret worschepe and dignite
Lasted euere In reste and pes,
And that ȝoure honour schulde neuere sese.
¶ But certes, fadur, I me drede,
If ȝe folyly this werre lede,
That ȝe begynne a newe debate;
Ȝe schal lese for euere-more oure state
And oure worschepe and oure name,
And wynne vs schenschepe and schame.'
PAris sat and held his pes;
He herkenes al that Ector seys.
Whan he saw Ector sitte in pes,
Paris ros vp fro the des
And spak on hye, herande hem alle
That stode or sat In that halle;
He seyth: 'my lord, er ȝe wende,
I schal ȝow telle of a good ende
That we schal haue of oure batayle,
If we the Grues wol assayle.
How scholde we by skyl be a-ferd?
Suche a toun is non [on] mydlerd,
As is this toun is nowher non;
Ther is no man with fleche ne bon,
That in oure toun may vs confounde;
It is so strong of walle and grounde.
Sende ȝoure men and ȝoure naue
Boldely, sir, ouer the see!
And als god ȝow mote amende,
Loke that ȝe me with hem sende;
For I wot wel: it is my chaunce
To do the Gregeys gret greuaunce,
And oute of Grece to ȝow brynge
A gentil lady fair and ȝynge,
That is comen of gentil blode,
As fair and as gode
And as gret of genterye
As ȝoure suster Oxonye.
And if ȝe aske how I wot this,
I schal ȝow telle—so haue I blis:—
¶ The noble god Mercurius
In my sclepyng he told me thus;
How, and wenne, and in what wyse,—
I schal ȝow telle, or ȝe aryse.
This endir day, whan I was sent
At ȝoure biddyng and comaundement
¶ Hic Paris Filius Regis Troiani narrauit patri suo de sompno suo.
To the lond of lytel Inde,
I ȝede to hunte theMS. to the. hert & hynde.
Whan I was comen to the forest,
Off al that day fond I no best,
Til it was passed ouer the none.
By him that sittes in trone!
Then was I war of a gret hert,
Fair, and gret, and ful smert,
That ȝede on land and was to leyne;
Then was I glad and wondur fayne,
I folwed him, til hit was nyght,
And til of him I loste the syght
Thorow derknesse of the leues
That growed vpon the greues.
I was weri of hunted & chased,
So hadde I that proude hert trased;
My hors forsothe was ondeles
For rennyng and for werines;
My felawes hadde I alle lorn,
That tyme with me was no wyght born.
I layd me doun vpon the playn
And tyed myn hors be the rayn;
Whan I was leyd, er I toke kepe
For werinesse I fel on sclepe.
As I lay on my sclepyng,
Me thoght I saw a wondir thyng:
I saw a godMS. agod. bryghter then the glemyng
Come to me in my dremyng,
And in his hond brouȝt goddis thre,
And alle were faire on to se.
That on goddes of the thre was
—As he me sayde—goddesse Pallas;
The secunde was also
A louely lady, dame Iuno;
The thridde goddesse was dame Venus
That come with god Mercurius.
Mercurius sayde: "loke vp, Paris,
So haue thow Ioye In erthe or blis!
By-holde Right wel these thre goddesse,
For thei ben alle in gret distresse,
For a stryff is be-twene hem raysed;
But thorow the it schal be pesed,
For þei haue put hem in thi dome.
Loke therfore, thow ȝyue gode gome,
That thow ȝeue now rightful Iugement
Afftir thi sight and thin entent.
THese thre goddesse this endur day
Sat at the feste of gret noblay;
An Appul was to hem ybroght,
A wondur fair and qweyntly wroght.
That appul is with-oute doute
With lettres of gold wreten aboute:
That it scholde trewly ȝeuen be
To the ffairest of the thre.
Iff that thow wol so moche do
That thow ȝeue it dame Iuno,
So worthi a man In al this world
Is non leuyng—as man has herd,—
As sche treuly schal the make
For that semely appul sake.
And if thow ȝeue it goddes Pallas,
Sche schal the ȝeue, or thow pas,
Wit, and wisdam schaltow haue
More than thow woldest craue.
And ȝif thow ȝeue it to dame Venus,
Sche bad, I scholde telle the thus:
The ffairest wiff that is in Grece
To thi merite therfore sche bese.
Now loke wele, how thow demes,
Whiche of these best besemes."
I vysed longe these ladyes thre,
Me thoghte hem alle of gret beute;
But I saw hem alle In suche a poynt,
That thei were naked In ilke a Ioynt;
Thei seyde: thai nolde not for me spare;
Thei stode be-fore me naked and bare.
¶ To me Venus the fairest semed,
For-whi to hir the appul I demed;
And sche ther-of was fayn y-now
And smoterly on me sche low,
And hight me, or sche fro me ȝede,
That I scholde haue to my mede
The fairest wyff of Grece land
In my bandounMS. landoun. and In my band.
And I am ther-of sekir and trayst,
That ȝe no-thyng be ther-of a-baist
To lete me pas the Greckis see;
For it is certes my destanee
To harme Gregeys & greue hem sore,
When I am come to hem thore;
For ȝe wot wele, and I wot als,
That goddis beheste is not ffals.'
When he hadde seyde, he spak no more,
But sette him doun as he sat ore.
BVt sir Dephebus ros vp than,
And his reson thus be-gan
And seide: 'lordynges, if it were so,
Off eche a thyng that men schulde do,
If thei caste that noght be-falle,
Nis no manMS. noman. of vs nowher, bonde ne thralle,
That any-thyng scholde be-gynne, fro drede
That he scholde fayle or euel spede.
¶ Adhuc consilium inter Regem Troianum et Filios suos.
But dyght ȝoure schippes and ȝoure meyne,
And sende Paris with hem and me;
And if it be so that we may wynne
Any lady of gentil kynne,
Thei schal be glad a chaungeMS. achaunge. to make
And qwite ȝoure suster for hir sake.
And so may we our chalange werke,
For alle men schame now of vs speke.'
Elenus, the brother fourthe,
Ros and stood vpon the erthe
And seyde: 'fader, loke ȝe be war,
And alle that in this paleis ar!
Ȝe wot wele alle, I haue ben ay
Lered wele and can sothe say
Off euery a thyng that is to come;
And that wot ȝe bothe alle and some,
That I seide neuere ȝit prophecie,
That it ne was sothe with-oute lye.
¶ And I telle ȝow that ben here,
And namely ȝow, my fader dere,
That, if ȝe sende my brother Paris
To the lond of Grece y-wis
To Robbe, to reue, or harme to do,
Alle we schal dye, and ȝe also,
And my Moder, ȝoure wyff, the qwene,
And alle ȝoure sones, and Pollexene;
And al this toun schal turne to nauȝt,
If ȝe fulfille that ȝe haue thouȝt:
For sikurly hit schal be brent,
I-throwen doun, and al to-rent.'
When Elenus hadde told his tale,
The kyng fro drede gan wexe pale,
Off his wordes was he a-ferd sore,
And so were alle that there wore.
His wordes thenne alle gon a-fere,
For thei wiste wele he lyed neuere;
Ther was no man In that paleis
Amonges hem alle ther o word seys;
But sat alle stille euerychon,
As who hadde schauen hem a crounMS. acroun..
TRoylus saw, thei sat al stille;
That knyght thoght ther-at ille,
Vpon his feet he start vp blyue
And seide: 'lordynges, so mote ȝe thryue!
What may this be that ȝow now ayles?
For a caytiff herte ffayles,
Haue ȝe ther-of alle suche wondur?
Off men sought amonges a hundur,
A ffebler herte schulde ȝe not ffynde
Thow ȝe sought henne in-to Inde;
Ȝe ȝeues him alle to clergie,
For he is ferd of Chiualrie.
Lete him go, if he be aferd,
To the temple, and schaue his berd,
And helpe the Clerkes belles to rynge,
And make him a prestMS. aprest. a masseMS. amasse. to synge!
And that haue schame and drede
Off vilonye that men him bede,
Lete him go venge here mortel foos,
And fle reproues and wyn hem loos!
He is a foleMS. afole. that wolde trowe,
That any man on erthe knowe
Off thing that is to come the sothe,
For suche is non, with-outen othe!
For chiualry wel sore he hates,
He wol neuere-more were yren plates.
Wherfore, sir kyng, are ȝe frayed
And of his wordes euel payed?
¶ Hic concordati sunt de consilio eorum.
Dightes ȝoure schipes and sende ȝoure men
To gret Grece by thousandes and ten,
And venge ȝow on ȝoure enemys,
And turne ȝoure schame to lose and pris!'
When he hadde sayd, he sat him doun,
And alle that were of that toun
Blessed him for his manhede
And seide: "he was wise and good of rede."
Thai seyde echon with-outen fayle:
"Thei wolde do Troylus consayle;"
Thei bad the kyng: "how so it fare,
He scholde dyght his men al ȝare;
No lengur thei wolde abyde
In-to Grece alle for to ryde."
NOw ben thei alle at on acorde,
Kyng and prince, duke and lorde,
In-to Grece for to go,
Be hit to wele or to wo.
¶ Priamus called with-oute more
His sone Paris to him thore,
And Dephebus, the brother thridde,
And bad him go hem mydde.
He bede hem go to Pauonye
And gadur ther her gret chyualrye,
Knyghtes fele of gret feute,
To wende with hem ouer the see.
¶ And thei anon with-oute abode
Toke ther leue and thedur rode.
When thei were come to that prouynce,
Thai told here erand to the prynce;
Here askyng was not of him werned,
At his power he dede here herend.
¶ The morwe sone, whan it was day,
Priamus sente by euery a wayMS. away.
¶ Hic Rex mandauit post Magnatos Troianos.
His Messangeres of Troye to crye,
That euery lord scholde faste hye
To his paleis with-oute dwellyng,
To here a-monges hem his tellyng.
Thei sped hem faste and ȝede anon;
When thei were comyn euerychon,
Kyng Priamus to hem thus sais:
'My trewe lordes, my trewe burgeis!
To ȝow alle it is right couthe,
How we ben in euery mannes mouthe
For the schame and vilonye,
The Mansclauȝter and the robberye,
That Gregeis dede sumtyme to oure.
I wolde ther-fore by consayl ȝoure
Venge vs alle, if we myght,
Off oure enemys, and that is right.
I thenke to sende Paris my sone,
To venge vs, if he conne.
But for I nolde noght aȝeyns ȝoure wil
Do no-thyng, and that is skyl,
I wol not do with-oute ȝoure assent,
And therfore afftir ȝow I sent.
Say me now ȝoure owne lykyng:
How lykes ȝow my begynnyng?'
Ther was a knyȝt, het Partheus,—
His fader hight Euforbius,—
He seyde: 'my lord, my dere kyng!
I am ȝoure knyght and ȝoure vndirlyng,
Ȝoure lordschepe to knowe and reuerence:
I hadde a fadir of gret science,
Ther was not In Europe ne in Assye
So wyse a man of Philosophye;
He tolde me offte—so god me spede!—
That, if Paris to Grece ȝede,
A wyff with fors for to wynne,
That ȝe ther-by and alle ȝoure kynne
Schamely schul dye, and this fair toun
Schal be brend and thrawen doun.
¶ Therfore, my lord, my kyng dere,
Venge the not In suche manere
That ȝe and ȝoures be alle for-don!
Leue ȝoure purpos and turne it son!
And if ȝe wol algates wende,
The Gregeis to qwelle and to schende,
Let another then Paris go,
Or elles we gon alle to wo,
And alle kyn and al oure lynage
Schal turne to nought; and this vilage,
That is so noble, strong, and gay,
Schal be brend with ffir a-way.'
GRete noyse and mochel cry
WasMS. was. among the lordes witterly
In the halle, when he thus sayde;
Thei were echon with him euel I-payde,
Thei [bad] him of his wordes sese
And holde him stille and be in pese;
Thei held al fals that he tolde,
Thei sayde: "he raued, for he was olde;"
Thei seyde echon by on speche,
That Paris schold go to take wreche.—
But when this word was told to Cassandre,
That thei wold sende Alysandre
In-to Grece to brenne and robbe,
Sche by-gan to syke and sobbeMS. soble, cf. l. 1915..
¶ Sche seyde: 'alas, that fair Cite!
Noble Troye, thi destene
Is hard and wicke, that the schal falle!
Tour and bour and other houses alle
With-Inne a while it schal be doun thrawen,
And alle schal be brend, with ffir sclawen.'
¶ Afftir then seide sche thus:
'Alas, thow gode kyng Priamus!
What is thi synne that thow hast don,
That thow and thyne schal dye thus son?
And thow, my fadurRead modur?, what is thi synne,
That thow art woundenMS. wounded. and lapped Inne?
And alle that euere thow hast born,
Schaltow se before the lorn.
Whi let ȝe now Paris wende
In-to Grece, that vs schal schende?'
¶ Sche ran doun thenne in-to the halle,
And on her knes be-gan to falle,
And seyde: 'lord kyng, I praye the:
Rewe on thi-selff, thi wiff, and me,
And on thi sones faire and bolde!
For if it be—as men me tolde—
Iff that Paris to Grece schal wende,
Ther is no manMS. noman. that schal defende,
That we ne schal dye with-Inne a whileMS. awhile.
Schenful dethe forsothe and vile.'
¶ He bad hir go to hir chambur
And folde hir kercheues of silk & lambur.
So weylaway that it was so,
That he nolde afftir hir do!
For hadde he don afftir hir rede,
Hadde he not so sone ben dede,
Ne the Cite not be brent,
Ne alle hir kyn so foule be schent.
In al the world suche a CiteMS. In al the world was suche a Cite.
Neuere was ne neuere schal be.
HIt was afftir vpon a day
In the monthe certes of May,
Hic venit Paris ad Insulam Thitharie.
When Paris come froMS. to. Pauonye
And broght with him gret chiualrye;
Thre thousand knyȝtes that were assayed
Broght with him wel arayed;
And alle here schippis were redy dyght
And fraught with vitayles and wel pight.
¶ And Priamus bad Polimodas,
Antenor, and Eueas,
That thei with Paris to Grece schulde wende,
To brynge this thyng to an ende.
Thei toke leue as-tyde and ȝede
To here schippis with mechel spede.
Thei sayled euere bothe day and nyght,
Til thei hadde of Grece a syght;
Thei saw an Ile of Gregeis land—
Het Thitharie, I vndir-stand;—
Toward that Ile drow thei faste.
When thei come there, anker thei caste,
And tyed here schippis in that porte
And ȝede to londe to take disporte.
IN that Ile of Thitharie
Was a temple of Auncetrie
Set In honoure of Veneris,
Ther sche hadde mochel worschepe ywis;
For alle the men of that land
Make to here gret offerand
Off siluer, gold, and tresour;
Ther was richesse with-oute mesour.
For thei truste alle and vndirstode,
That no man myght do but gode,
The whil thei hadde help of here
Many a lond and many a schire.
For then held thei an hye feste-day
Off that goddesse with gret noblay:
On here manere and there a-vise
Thei made to here gret sacrifice
Off Bolles, Bores, and other bestes.
When Paris herde of these festes,
¶ He wente to that solennite,
The temple and that Ioye to se;
And his ffelawys with [him] ȝede,
Semely dyght in golden wede,
And offered there, as other dede,
And his felawes forth myde.
¶ He was apparayled as a kyng;
Alle men seide, bothe old and ȝyng:
"So fair a man saw thei neuere non,
Made in erthe of blod ne bon."
Men askede alle: "what he myght be,
And when he was, and of what contre,
And what he did in that lond thore?"
Men spak of him bothe lasse & more,
Off his beute spak ȝonge and olde.
At the laste the word was tolde
¶ To qwene Eleyne, that was fair and milde,
That dwellid a litel with-oute the Ilde
In a castel gret & strong.
The los of Paris so wide sprong
Off his noblay and beute,
That Elene saide: "sche wolde him se."
Sche did hir dight an hors of pris,
And toke with hir other ladies,
And ȝede thedir with hir comperes,
And in the temple made hir preyeres
To the goddesse that ther sat,
And made hir offryng afftir that.
Whan Paris herde of hir telle,
To the temple ȝede he snelle,
Gloriously and richely dight,
And stode euene In hir syght;
For he hadde many a long day
Be-fore herd telle of hir & say,
"That sche was the fairest wiff
Off alle wymmen that euere bar lyff."
PAris thenne with meke mode
Aȝeyn the qwene he ȝode and stode,
And loked on hir euere in on;
A bryghter brid of blod ne bon
Thoght him neuere that he hadde sen,
Sithe in this world he hadde ben.
Alle his hert was on hir set,
For that thei were to-gedir met;
And when sche hadde of him a syght,
Hir thoght him the fayrest knyght
That sche hadde sene In al hir lyue;
Sche wolde wel fayn haue ben his wyue.
¶ Sche loked on him, and he on hir;
Eyther other now desir,
How thei myght theire loue fulfille,
Ne how to schewe here herte wille.
But atte laste thei drowe hem nere
And spak to-gedir so In-fere,
That, er that thei thennes wente,
Thei were bothe at on assente.
He toke then leue at qwene Eleyne,
Off here spekyng he was fayne;
To his schippis he him hied,
Ther thei stode faste tied.
He did a-non to him calle
His felawes and his meyne alle;
When thei were comen to him thore,
He seide: 'lordynges, lesse and more!
Ȝe wote wel whi we come hidur,
And what ȝe wolde, and also whedur.
¶ The principal cause of oure comyng
Is to aryue on Thelamon, the kyng,
Our kynges suster for to wynne
With fight of sword or other gynne.
But sekirly that may we not!
We may not do that we haue thoght,
For he is strong and hath gode frende;
We gete hir not out of his bende,
Ne we ben not of pouste
Vnto hadde ne to take the Cite.
Wherfore, my dere lordynges,
That I telle ȝow now this tythynges:
IN this Ile is now a qwene,
The fairest lady that man may sene,
That comen is of gret kynrede,
That Menelaus kynge has wede.
And in the temple—ȝe wot wel alle—
Arne clothes fele of gold and palle,
Ther [is] of gold gret plente,
Off siluer also gret quantite,
Siluer vessel ther is ynow.
Hit is a stede for oure prow;
We may be riche, if we wille,
And if ȝe wole assente ther-tille.
¶ I rede, that we to-nyght echon,
When nyght is comen & day gon,
That we do on oure basynettis bryght,
And when we be armed and dight,
That we go robbe the temple sone
With-outen lyght of sonne or mone;
And al that we fynde ther-Inne,
Bere it away, or we be-lynne,
¶ Hic Paris cepit Insulam cum Castello.
To oure schippis and leue it thore,
And make vs riche for euermore;
And al menMS. almen. that we ther fynde,
And wymmen also of gentil kynde
Lede we to oure contreis—
Gret worschepe hit were by alle weyes—
And specially that lady fre,
Quene Eleyne, if it may be.
Iff we may hir home brynge
To oure contreis, and tythyng sprynge
A-monges the Grues, that sche is tan,
And Menelaus fynde hir gan,
He schal be fayn a chaunge to make
Off Oxonye, I vndirtake.
¶ Lete se now, what ȝe say?
Er nyght be gon and comen day,
I rede that we now take oure grace,
That god sende vs, whil we haue space.'
Some assented wel ther-to,
And some seyn "it is noght to do;"
But thei acorded atte laste,
When the day was gon and paste,
And the sonne was went adoun,
And alle men on slepe In the toun,
To harme hem, whan it was late,
And to the temple toke here gate,
And robbed & reued alle that thei fond,
And ledde with hem In-to the lond:
NIght is comen, and day is went,
The Troyens haue here armour hent,
To the temple ben thei gon,
Paris and his men echon.
Alle that thei founden thei robbed & refft;
That ought was, no thyng wasA word has been erased here, and this second was is written upon the erasure. lefft.
Alle that in the temple was founden,
Was to-geder lapped and wounden
And born in coffres to the see
And herbard ther-Inne in here naue.
And Paris toke that lady swete
And led hir to his schippis schete,
And lefft hir there In the same kepyng
And other fele with hir wepyng.
¶ When Paris hadde on this wise done,
He ȝede aȝeyn thedur sone
And toke echon to his seruage,
Man and womman, wiff and Page,
Ther was of this a wondir cry.
Ther stode a Castel a litel ther-by,
Gret, and stiff, and ful strong,
With dyche and walles wide and long;
Men of armes that Castel ȝemed.
Whan that thei herd wymmen so remed,
Thei hadde meruayle what it myght be;
Thei resen vp, the sothe to se.
But of tythandes when thei herde,
How thei of Troie with hem ferde,
Thei armed hem with mochel haste;
But sekirly it was but waste,
¶ For thei of Troye were mo than thai,—
The furthe dowble, I dar wel say—
And sclow hem foule, when thei were met;
Thei were with hem so ouer-set,
That thei myȝth not fro hem fle
Ne at here ȝates take entre;
Thei folwed hem só, that thei myght not pas.
And al the riches that ther was,
That thei myght fynde, that ought was worth,
Thei of Troye bar with hem forth.
¶ Hic Paris rapuit Elenam vxorem Menelan. [sic] Regis.
And eche man than with his god schippes
And alle here good thedur skippes,
And drow vp sayl and hyed hem ffaste
In-to the see, that thei were paste.
PAris hath now Eleyne wonne;
To take the see thei haue by-gonne,
Thei sayled alle on a rawe,
Til thei were come ther thei were knawe,
The lond of Troye, Then were thei glad.
When thei were comen & the lond had,
Thei were glad ther-of echone;
Saue Eleyne thenne made moche mone,
Fro hir lond that sche hath lorn,
And hir doughter that sche hadde born,
And fro the kynges hir bretheren bothe.
But Paris therfore was ful wrothe,
He comforted hir and. bad hir ses,
Leue hir sorwe and be In pes.
He called to him his Messanger
And bad him take a good Courser
And [ride] to Priamus, the kyng,
And telle him this tydyng:
"That he was comen to Thenedoun
Saue and sound, with many a moun
ThatMS. And that. he hath wonnen with his hond
To be In seruage In his lond,
And that he hath broght so fair a lady,
To be In stede of Oxonye,
Off the gentillest kyn and blode,
That was be-ȝonde the Grekis flode."
The Messager as-tyde forth rode
To Priamus with-outen abode,
He tolde him tydynges of Paris:
"How he was comen home y-wys,
And how he hadde by-ȝonde ywroght,
And of the qwene that he hom broght."
WHen Priamus herde these tythand,
He myght vnnethe for Ioye stand
Opon his fete, so was he glad;
Alle the grete of Troye he bad
Come to him, tythandes to here.
And when his court was al plenere,
He bad him do his message
To alle the lordes that there werePerhaps we ought to alter the last three words to: & baronage..
And he tolde hit al an hye,
That alle myght here that stood nye;
¶ Then were Ioyful the Troyens,
And gret Ioye made the citeseyns.
The morwe folwyng, whan it was lyght,
Paris dede Eleyne wel dyght
Richely In gay wede,
And broght to hir a noble stede,
And he sette hir ther-on
And rode thenne fro Thenedon
Toward Troye a wel soffte pas.
And his prisoneres he has
Sent by-fore vpon a route
With men and knyȝtes alle aboute;
He made hem wende a litel before,
And he him-self and Antenore,
Dephebus and Eueas,
And also Polidonias,
Come afftirward with qwene Eleyne,
Rydyng soffte vpon the pleyne,
Til thei come at Troye ney-hande.
But out of the toun come ridande
¶ Kyng Priamus with his baronage
And salute hem alle with good visage,
¶ Hic Paris desponsauit Elenam Reginam.
And afftirward ȝede to the qwene
And profered hir his owne to bene.
And so rode thay alle to Troye;
The folk ther-Inne made mochel Ioye,
Ther was gadered alle the toun
With mochel Ioye and processioun,
With alle Musik and menstrasye,
To kepe the qwene of genterye.
¶ Priamus lyght of his palfray
At the ȝates In-myddes the way,
And toke him-self qwene Eleyne
Amongis hem alle by the rayne,
And lad hir him-self alweys
Thorow the toun to his paleys.
¶ Then on the morwe, when thei saw tyme,
A litel while be-fore the prime,
Ȝede lady Eleyne and sir Paris
Vnto the temple Palladis
And weddid hem to-gedir thore.
For afftirward it rewed hem ful sore,
And alle the gladnesse that thei hadde tho,
Turned hem to sorwe and to wo.
NOw hath Paris weddid Eleyne;
Troyens ben ther-of wel fayne,
Mochel murthe and festes thei make
For sir Paris and Eleyn sake.
This riche feste lastis al-wayes
Til hit were xviij dayes,
And alle the men of the Cite
Tentid to noght but to gamen and to gle.
But when Cassandre herde that tale,
That thei hadde mad a newe bridale
Off qwene Eleyne and Alisaundre,
Mechel dole made thenne Cassaundre.
Sche cried, sche wepid, and so ferde,
That alle the Paleis here noyse herde.
To the temple sche hir hyed,
And on the Troyens loude sche cried;
Sche seide: 'alas, vnwitti men,
Caytiff Troyens, and wymmen!
Whi make ȝe alle this Ioye and song?
Sicurly ȝe haue gret wrong
To make suche Ioye of here wedlak,
For it schal greue ȝow alle the pak,
For ȝe schul se ȝoure children sclayn
For weddynge of dame Eleyn,
And ȝe ȝoure-self Caytyves schal dye
For mochel wo and turmentrye.
¶ A noble Troye! that art so hye,
This weddyng schaltow dere abye!
Thow schalt be throwen doun in haste
For this weddyng, and lefft al waste!
A Hectuba, gentil qwene!
Whi tholed thow alle that wo and tene
In thi noble children burthe,
When this vnsely caytyff murthe
Schal reue the alle thi sones here,
And Polexene, that is the dere;
And thow thi-selff schal dye ther-by,
And thi lord also witterly!
Wiste ȝe, what her-of wolde be-falle,
Ȝe wolde lette this weddyng alle
And sende hir home ouer the see
To him that schulde hir lord be.
A Eleyne, thow wicked best!
Wo worth thi bones and thi fair fest!
So mychel wo, or long be gon,
As thow schalt make to vs echon!
Suche sorwe sche made, and many mo
Cassandre made among hem tho.
But Priamus bad hir sitte stille,
For alle the toun thoght ther-of ille.
For sche nolde do his byddyng
For wele ne wo ne other thyng,
Then putte thei here in distresse
For here crying and hir wodnesse.
ELeyne is weddid to Paris
With mochel murthe and Ioye y-wys;
Eche man ther-of Ioye has,
Thei ledyn here lyff In gret solas.
But when the kyng Menelans
Herde telle of this chauns,
That thei of Troye hadde lad away
Quene Eleyne vnto here pray,—
That was his owne gentil wiff,
That he loued as his lyff,—
Suche a sorwe to him he cauȝte,
That his deth almost he lauȝte:
He lay in swone longe, or he spak ought,
So was he so ney the dethe broght;
But whan he reuerted and ros aȝeyn,
'Alas,' he seyde, 'thow faire Eleyn!'
He made for hir gret waymentynge,
He myȝth not se for his gretynge.
¶ Duke Nestor come and herde
How that Menelaus ferde,
And comforted him with al his myght,
When he saw him in suche a plyght.
But he no-wise myght comfort haue,
For he ferde as he scholde raue;
He toke his hors with-oute abode
And to his lond wel faste he rode;
And duke Nestor with him ȝede,—
He wolde not leue him In that nede;—
For whan Troyens dede this trespas,
Menelaus at home not was,
He was with duke Nestor, that sire,
At his Cite that men called Pire.
Whan he was to his lond y-come,
His men were glad alle and some;
Vn-to his brother a lettreMS. alr¯e¯. he lete dyght,
That Agamenon that tyme hyght,
And to Pollus, and to kyng Castor,—
That I haue spoken of be-fore,—
That were his wyues bretheren bothe:
He prayed hem for leue or for lothe,
That thei scholde come with-outen dwellyng
And speke with him for any-thyng.
TO him ȝede these thre kynges,
When thei herde telle of these tydynges.
When Agamenon kyng was ware
That his brother was so ful of care,
He seyde: 'brother, for heuene kyng!
Whi makestow al this waymentyng?
Iff thow haue cause suche dole to make,
Lete it passe and ouer-slake!
For in sorwe and dele-makyng
Lenges non honour ne wynnyng.
The more sorwe thow mase,
Thi fomen gladdur is.
Thow greues alle that ben thi frende;
Leue ther-fore and make an ende,
And seke vengaunce of this ilke dede!
And that is worschepe and manhede;
The maner is of euery good knyght,
Off wrong, of schame, and of dispite
That him is don, vengaunce to take
And not to wepe ne sorwe make.
¶ Leue brother! wostow euery dele,
That alle the kynges wele
Ben oure ffelawes and oure ffrende
And wol with vs In oure help wende,
Off this Mescheff and this myschaunce
Off hem of Troye to take vengaunce?
Ther nys no kyng, and we him pray
To wende with vs, wol not say 'nay';
To alle the kynges of that land
And we schal do hem to vndirstand,
How thei the lond haue robbed and brend,
And sclayn thi men and foule hem schend,
And led away Eleyn, thi wyff,
And lefft thi-selff in wo and striff,
In dispite and In gret Ire
Off alle the kynges of Grece empire,
For the schame that thei dede hem,
Thei haue on vs venged hem.
And when thei heere of this tythandes,
Ther is no kyng of Grece landes,
That thei wol come with grete meyne
And wende with vs ouer the see,
And venge vs of the vylony
That we haue for dame Oxony,
And wynne aȝeyn thi wiff Eleyne,
Maugre ther tethe, be thow certeyne!'
MEnelaus held his pees,
Off his sorwe he gan to sees;
At his biddyng and his counsayle
Thenne by-gan this clerkes to tayle
Parchemyn and lettres dite,
And many another affter to write.
¶ Hic Agamenon ffrater Menelaij misit literas suas ad Reges Grecorum.
Thei made lettres to kynges and prince,
To eche a lond and prouynce
That GregeysMS. Gregeyns. hadde in seygnorye:
To venge hem of that vilonye
That thei haue taken of Troyens,
And foule haue sclayn ther citeseyns,
And led a-way Eleyne, the qwene,
To Menelaus gret wratthe and tene.
But sykurly to seye the sothe:
Bothe here bretheren were so wrothe,
¶ Whan thei herde telle of this
That here suster ferd amys,—
Thei nolde a-byde for no flot,
But toke ther men and schippus ful hot
And ȝede als faste In-to the see
With thaire men and here naue;
For thei wende wele hem ouer-tane
Paris sone, and bene his bane.
But sykurly thei sayled not longe,
On In the see the wedur spronge,
That thei were drowned bothe two
And alle here men with hem also.
Hit was not fully two dayes past,
That thei were drowned bothe schip and mast,
And leffte here lyues ther to-gedur
In that tempest and that wedur.
AGamenon and his brother
To Thelaman and many other
Kyng and duke ther lettres sente,
To alle that dwelled fer or hente,
To the lond of Grece that langed;
And thei here lettres gladly fanged,
And whan thei hadde here lettres red,
Eueryche a kyng to hem thanne sped
¶ Hic Reges Grecorum elegerunt Agamenon Imperatorem.
And come to hem many a myle,
So that thei were with-Inne a while
Mo then sixti kynges thore,
That alle to Grece langed wore.
When thei were comen alle in present,
And non of hem was absent,
¶ Menelaus told his cas:
"How he his wiff lorn has,
And how thei brende also his tounes
In dispite of alle the Gryffounes."
When alle the kynges herde this tale
How Troyens hadde don hem bale,
And hadde these grete playntes,—
Thei made a vowe to god and to his seyntes:
"That thei schuld gadre her naue
And wende with him ouer the see,
And with alle here men & here retenu
WynneMS. And wynne. aȝen Eleyne his dru,
And throwe doun Troye and al to-brenne,
And venge hem on here fomene.
¶ But it was good"—the lordes seyde alle—
"For thynges that myght befalle,
That thei chese hem an Emperour
To be alther gouernour,
That were amonges hem most of myght,
And ouer-se hem alle with his syght;"—
'To rewle vs alle and to gouerne,
Erly and late, loude and derne;
And that eche man do his biddyng,
Duke and prince, lord and kyng.'
THei ȝede thanne to her parlement
And seide be dome and right Iugement,
That Agemenon was worthi
By-fore alle other sikurly
To bere the state and to be Emperour,
For he was wise and good gyour.
Thei sayden alle with-outen les,
That to the hauen of Athenes
Was good to do her naue come,
For ther myght thei alle stonde In romme,
To alle the lordes that there were
Were redy dyght and samed there
With ther meyne, to passe the flood
Toward Troye, when thei seyen good.—
And whan thei hadde ordeyned this,
Thei toke ther leue In Ioye and blis;
And Agamenon and his brother
And echon partyd tho fro other;
And ȝede eche a man to his contre,
And gadered men and his naue,
And spede hem faste to Athenes
With gret naue and moche pres.
Alle men, beth now blythe!
Herkenes now to me and lythe!
Herkenes now! and ȝe may here
Meruayles many In my matere:
In this talkyng may ȝe here telle
Off ferly fyght, ffele and felle,
Of comely kynges corouned and kene,
That Troye distroyed alle be-dene,
And brende her houses on a blase;
And how that strong knyghtes here lyff lase.
Ther was the worthiest wyght In wede
That euer by-strode palfray or stede,
A bolder burneMS. burde. was neuere non born—
Alas that he was lyghtly for-lorn!—
Ther was no man so strong of myght,
As was Ector, that gentil knyght.
Was non so proud proued his pere,
The whiles he was on lyue here;
For I ffynde In prose and ryme,
Was non so strong In that tyme.
He dede x thousand bakkes bende;
Men spekes of him In euery londe,
For he was strong In doughtynes,
Mighty in strengthe and hardynes.
Of myght I may him not discryue,
Ther lyues non suche here on lyue,
As Ector was, that strong knyght;
For he passed al other of myght.
Som[what] wol I of him telle
And of other knyghtes felle,
Off him and of Troyle, his brother,
And of strong knyghtes many other:
¶ How that batayle of Troye be-gan,
And how thai sythen the toun wan;
And how thei gadered here meyne
With al here store and there naue
In-to Athenes alle to-gedur,
And passed the see, when thei hadde wedur,
To Thenedoun, and dwelled ther lange,
Er thei durste to Troye gange,—
For drede thei hadde of gode Ectore,
Off whom I haue spoken of before;—
And how thei sythen thenne paste
And come to Troye atte laste,
And lay ten ȝere be-fore the toun,
Er thei it wan and keste it doun;
And how Gregeis and Troyens thore
Faught ten ȝere and more;
And how thei of Grece were conqueroures
And brente Troye with alle the toures.
¶ Hic Greci congregati sunt.
Herkenes now, both grete and smale!
For now be-gynnes al this tale:
How thei dede, and how thei faught,
And what and how ther dethe thei caught.
HIt was a day off Feuerer,
That kynges, dukes, and Mariner
With here naue vpon a res
Were Gadered alle to Athenes,
With honour forth right
With Priamus and hese to fyght.
So fele knyghtes of gret renoun,
Ne so fele kynges corouned with croun,
Were neuere ȝit at on semble,
Off on purpos, ne neuere schal be;
Ne so fele schippis In on hauen,
Ne so fele with swordes and stauen,
Was neuere sene for-sothe ne herde,
Sithen god made man first In this worlde.
¶ Dares telles in His scripture
Off eche a kyng and his stature,
And here names and her makyng,
And discreues hem in alle thyng,
And the nombre that euery kyng broght,
And the wondres that thei wroght;
Gret tariyng it is to telle
That Dares makes vpon his spelle.
But sicurly with-oute lesyng:
Sithen that god made al thyng,
Suche a peple was neuere y-sene—
Off alle the tyme that hath bene—
To-geder broght at o samyng
Off kynges and knyghtes old and ȝyng,
And so fele schippis on o fflete,
Sethen shippus ȝede with sail or sprete.
¶ Hic est numerus Grecorum vz. lxviij. Reges & duces. et de militibus hominibus ad Arma. viij C. Ml.
For sicurli with-oute lye
Ther was vpon the o partye
Sixti kynges and dukes also
And .viij. sikerly with-outen mo.
Fonde ȝe euere in any story
To-geder suche a company
Off kynges, dukes, and of princes,
That comen were fro here prouynces?
And so fele men broght on hepe,
That hardi were, doughti, and ȝepe?
¶ For whan thei were with-oute les
Gadered alle in Athenes,
Thei nombred—I vndirstonde—
Mo than .xviij. C. thousande,
And mo by hundredes .xviij. or .xix;
And so fele men—I dar wel sene—
Off men of Armes—permafay!—
To-gedre at onesMS. atones. sene was neuere on o day,
Sithen that god this world bygan,
Ne neuere, sithen that batel bylan;
Ne neuere man in erthe schal se,—
As longe as erthe sene schal be,—
Ne so fele schippus to-gedur y-set,
As ther were thenne to-gedur met,
¶ With doughti men gadered so.
Alas, Paris, what hastow do,
When thow leddest away Eleyne!
So many gode knyghtes for hir schul be sclayne,
And alle thi kyn to dethe was brought.
Alas, Ector! he rewys my thoght,
That he schulde dye for his disert!
So strong he was In armes apert,
Ne neuere wrong he wolde do.
Alas, that thi god Appollo
Ne haddehe added above line, doubtful if by same or another hand. throwe the In the salt-flom,
Er thow haddist broght hir hom!
By Ihesu Crist of Nazareth!
I wolde, thow haddist taken the dethe,
When thow wentist to Tytharie,
To here and se that melodye!
¶ Alas, me rewes of Priamus,
Off Hectuba, and gode Troylus,
Off Pollexene, and Andromede!
That Paris made brend In a glede,
Whan thow leddest away Eleyne
Out of the temple of dame Vyane!
¶ A noble Troye, that was rial,
A-doun is throwen with ston an[d] wal;
That made Paris and his euel wit.
And elles hit scholde haue stonde ȝit
As longe as Ierusalem,
Ne hadde Paris ben and his fals drem.
Now artow doun, and thi toures hye,
For Paris ffals a-voutrye!
Afftirward vpon a day,
When alle these kynges of gret noblay
And the dukes were gadered thore,
Princes and Erles that worthi wore,
Agamenon, the Emperour,
Bad vnto his banyour:
"Thorow the toun that he schulde crye,
That euery lord scholde faste hye
With-oute the toun In-to the playn;
For ther he wolde In certayn
Holde with hem a parlement."
When these lordes were afftir sent,
Then dwelled thei not longe,
When thei wiste whedur to gonge.
Agamenon dede thanne fette
Formes and stoles hem on to sette.
When thei were setyn alle a-doun
In that playn with-oute the toun,
AGamenon seyde: 'lordynges,
Dukes, Princes, and corouned kynges,
Beth alle in pes—I ȝow pray—
And herkenes me, what I say:
¶ Sithen god Adam and Eue wroght
And alle this world made of noght,
Saw I neuere suche peple samen—
Nother in ernest ne in gamen—
Off worthi lordis to-gedur infere,
As we ben now to-gedur here
Vpon o kyng to ȝeue a-saute.
Loke, what schame the deuel him augthte,
That to him-self hath suche bale brewed,
That hath vs alle aȝeyn him meued!
How scholde he now with-stande
Vs alle that ben here sittande,
Whan fyue of oure with lasse emprise
Sclow his fadir and alle hise,
WanMS. When. his toun with-Inne a throwe
And sette his paleis on a lowe?
But wete ȝe wel and beth siker,
That thei of Troye wote of this byker
That we on hem thenke to be-gynne
And here Cite with fors wynne,
And are aboute bothe nyght and day
To gete hem help alle that thai may,
To withstonde alle oure myght.
Wherfore I rede, if ȝe thenke right,
That we sende som messanger
To Delos Ile that is here ner,
¶ Hic Greci mandauerunt Achillem ad Appollum deum Grecorum.
—A litel fro Gregeis landes,
Ther god Appollo ther-Inne standes—
And wete of him his gode consayl:
"What schal be-tyde of this batayl
Off oure proues and oure afere,
And what schal falle, whil we are there?" '
The lordes seyde also: 'so god vs spede!—
It were good Achilles ȝede
Vpon that erande, if it lykes him,
And Padrodus that is his cosyn.'
Thei prayed him alle that viage to take,
To do so moche for her sake;
And he graunted as sone here bone.
He toke a schip and wente sone
To the see and sayled faste,
Til thei were comen atte laste
To the temple of Apollo,
And Patrodus with him also.
When thei were comen, thei wente to lande
And made to him a riche offerande,
And offered to him a gret quantite
Off riche gold and of her mone,
And kneled doun and him be-soght,
That he wolde layne it noght,
But say the sothe: "what scholde be-tyde
Off his Gregeis, if thei ride?"
APollo sayde: 'Achilles, ffrend,
To thi GrikesMS. grikes, altered from grues. aȝeyn thow wend!
And say, that thei be not agast,
But treuly be syker and stedefast!
Or this x ȝere go fully out,
Ȝe schal Troyens with-oute dout
Scle echon in fyght & stoures,
And ȝe of Grece be conqueroures.'
A wondir cas that tyme be-felle
In the temple—soth to telle,—
When Achilles his answere had,
And Appollo go thenne him bad
AndMS. And his. to theMS. to the inserted above the line by another hand. GrikesMS. grikes, altered from grues. telle his answere,
What scholde be-tyde of ther werre:
A noble Clerk, that het Calcas,—
Off hem of Troye bysshop was,—
In that Ile on londe lyght,
And to Appollo he him dyght
And ȝaff him ȝiftes grete and fele,
And bad him that he scholde not hele,
But say him soth and sicurly:
"Who scholde haue the victory,
And whether schulde Mayster be,
Thei of Grece or Troye Cite?"
¶ Appollo seyde: 'Calcas, be ware
That thow a-ȝeyn to Troye not ffare!
For sicurly I telle it the:
Or .x. ȝer passe, thou schat se
The kyng off Troye be lorn and schent,
And his toun be taken and be brent.
But ffelawe the with wordes mylde
With Achilles In this Il[d]e,
And wende with him to his Gregeis
And dwelle with him, ther is pais;
For thow schalt haue to hem gret nede.
Be my counseyl, to hem thow spede!'
CAlcas was a-Grised sore
Of these wordes that he herde thore;
But whan he wiste and hadde knowyng,
That it was sir Achilles ȝyng
That In the temple by-fore him stode,
Wel curtesly to him he ȝode
And profered him to his seruise
And euere to be on of hyse;
And seyde: "that god Appollo
Bad that he scholde do so."
Achilles seyde on fair manere:
"He was to him leue and dere;"
¶ He was glad of his contenaunce
And made him gret daliaunce.
And ȝede bothe in-fere to the see
And toke here schippis and here meyne,
And sayled faste fro the cost,
Til thei come to the Gregeys ost.
And broght Calcas by-fore the kyng
And tolde hem alle of tho tithyng:
"What Answere that thei bothe hadde."
Then were the Gregeis wondir gladde;
Euery lord his feste made,
For Ioye and murthe thei were glade.
¶ When thei herde these tithandis,
Then thei held vp bothe here handis
And thanked her goddis of here wille,
That thei wold hem not spille.
Thei ȝaff Calcas many a ȝiffte,
And swor alle by ther thriffte:
"That he scholde euere be on of thaires,
And him avaunce and alle his aires
Off riche londis, rentis, and fece,
In the londe for-sothe of Grece."
And alle the lordes of here ost
Loued him bothe lest and most.
ON the morwe, whan it was prime,
When Sir Achilles saw his tyme,
He and Calcas to-gedur wente
Vn-to Gamenouns tente.
¶ Hic Achilles & Calcas ibant ad tentorium Imperatoris.
Ther alle the lordes of Grece were than
To-geder there with many a man;
The lordis welcomed hem alle
And sette hem doun in the halle.
A-Mong the lordes and other kynges
Calcas seyde: 'herkenes, lordynges,
Kynges and dukes that now are here,
Princes and Erles to-gedur in-fere!
Ne was ȝoure entensioun,
When ȝe come furst to this toun,
With ȝoure naue to Troye to wende,
Ȝoure enemys to qwelle and to schende?
Whi lye ȝe here In pes so longe?
Hope ȝe not, here ȝow amonge
That Priamus has here many spies,
That ȝoure consayl to him [un-]wries
And telle hem alle that ȝe say?
Somer is passed ner-honde a-way;
Ȝe do not elles but makes hem bolde
The toun aȝeyn ȝow for to holde,
And steris the toun bothe nyght and day,
And geten hem help alle that thei may;
For thei holde ȝow so sore agast,
That ȝe dar not with hem wrast:
For it passes more than a ȝere,
Sithen alle the lordes that are here
Were gadered here to-gedur,
And haue had right fair wedur,
And durst neuere passe the see.
What may thei wene, but it be
For cowardise and gret ferdnesse,
For feblenesse and arwenesse?
Let sette ȝoure schippis forth on flote,
Dromond, Caryke, barge, and bote,
¶ Hic nauigant versus Troianos.
And sayle forth with-outen dwellyng,
So helpe ȝow god at ȝoure endyng!
Ne tarieth not In ȝoure goddys beheste!
I warne ȝow bothe most and leste,
That ȝoure fals hertes and faynt byleue
May ȝoure goddis so moche greue,
That thei may bothe ȝow turne and lette
Off that thei haue ȝow hette.
Therfore to-morwe, whan it dawes,
I rede ȝe take the wawes,
Whil ȝe haue wedur at wille,
That wyntir-wedur ȝow ne spille.'
Alle the lordes that were thore
A-lowedMS. A lowel. riȝth wel his lore:—
"And it was profitable,
And the tyme was fair and able
To take the tyme with-oute drede;
Hit was schame—so god me spede—
That thei hadde dwelled so longe ther."
Agamenon bad alle that ther wer,
Lord and prince, Duke and kyng:
"That thei made hem redy In the euenyng,
That thei were redi erly at morwen,—
When thei herde him blowe his horne,—
With schip and sail, spret and ore;
For ther wolde thei dwelle no more."
NIght is gon, the Cok hath crowen,
Agamenon hath his horn blowen;
And alle men thenne here schippis vnbonde,
And here Ankeres alle In-wonde,
And leffte the hauen and toke the see
With alle here schippis and here naue.
Thei drow ther sayl vnto the top;
Here schippis sayled gay and prop,
In thei were comen in-to Troye listes.—
AMS. A., Priamus, if that thow wistes
The sorwe that comes to the and thine
Off noble Troye the gret ruyne!
Haddest thow don be Ectores rede,
Then haddest thow not be dede.
Now comes thi sorwe and thi wo,
Alas, thi Ioye schal ouer-go!—
¶ These Gregeis saylen vpon a ras
Toward Troy with gret manas;
The wynd was good to ther byhoue,
Thei sailed on brod and gon by-loue,
Til thei come to Troye land.
Thei saw an hauen by-fore ham stand
With a Castel wondir strong,
With walles hye and dikes long.
Al that flote thedur drow,
For it was gret and mochel y-now
To herbare alle here schippis In;
Til thei come ther, thei noldeMS. wolde. blyn.
¶ The men that in the castel were,
When thei saw Gregeis there,
Out of the Castel faste thei ran,
Armed wel euery man;
To the see thei wolde wende,
That the Gregeis wolde defende,
That thei nedes mot on lande lyght;
For therto dede thei al here myght.
But thei were foles—that was sene,—
For thei lefft not on of Troyene,
That thei ne bere doun and sclow hem alle;
Afftir mercy myght thei not calle,
For of hem hadde thei no pite,
Thei brende her toun, bothe tymber and tre,
¶ Hic Greci destruxerunt Insulam Thenodonis & ceperunt Castellum.
And Toke here castel and threwe it doun
With alle the dyches enviroun.
And when thei hadde thus y-wroght
And the castel to grounde y-broght,
Thei ȝode to schip euery man
And sayled forth toMS. fro. Thenedam
That was fro Troye but six mile.
When thei were comen In-to that Ile,
Thei lete doun saile and ankeres caste
And bounden here schippis ther wel faste,
And Armed hem and ȝede to londe
And sclow and robbed al that thei fonde.
AT Thenedoun a Castel stode,
Strong & styff, gret and gode,
With walles wroght wondir hye,
And dikes doluen depe and drye;
So strong was non in that contre
Saue Troye self, that riche Cite.
It was ful of gret riches
Off alle the contre more and les;
Thei dede here goodes thedur brynge,
When men tolde of Grues comynge,
And left hem ther for sekurnes;
And many a lady with hem is.
¶ The Gregeis ben alande alle went,
Thei haue the toun taken and brent;
Vnto the Castel ar thei gon
And beseged it anon:
Thei sette engynes al aboute,
And grete stones thei did In route,
And som sette laddres to the walle.
But thei with-Inne gert hem alle:
Thei brak here neckis right on-sunder,
Thei sclow of Grece mo than an hunder.
With-Inne a while at that assaut
That thei with-Inne so longe han faut
And were so chaufed In here Armure,
That thei myght not for feble dure,
Ne on ther feet on the wal stande,
Ne holde her wepen In her hande.
¶ Then ȝede to dethe many Troyanes;
And ȝit mo died of Gryffones,
For thei with-Inne greves hem sore,
Als feble as thei wore:
Thei bare Gregeis doun fro the walles
With grete speres and ledon balles,
And lefft hem lyinge in the dikes;
Echon of hem at other strykes,
Thei with-Inn and thei with-oute.
But then come efft a newe route
Off Gryffons felle, that hem assayled
And hem with-Inne so trauayled,
That thei moste dye or elles hem ȝelde;
For thei myght not hem-self welde
For long fyghtyng and werynes,
Ne hem defende for feblenes.
THen clombe the Gregeis on the walles,
And some ȝede In at the wyndowes;
Then were Troyens In mochel drede,
And some out ouer the walles ȝede;
For-sothe thei flow alle that ther ware.
Wiff ne childe nolde thei non spare,
Knyght ne squier, knaue ne boy,
Ne non that longed [vn-]to Troy.
Alle the goodis that there wore
Thei bare to schippis thore,
And brende the Castel and threwe it doun,
That men myght se to Troye toun
Ouer alle the hillis that were hye,
Off Thenedoun the Gret Cite.
¶ Thenedoun is doun and take;
It liggis doun in the lake;
That stod so stronge and so hye ore,
Now is it on the grounde thore.
The Gregeys were mery and glad
Off the Castel that thei had.
¶ Agamenon dede comaunde:
"That alle the Gregis In a laund
Schuld come and with him brynge
Catel, goodes, and alle other thynge,
That thei hadde wonnen at here pray
Off that Castel that ilke day;
That no thyng schulde be with-holden,
Don a-way, ne fro him stolen—
As thei wolde haue lyff and lym!—
But al to-gedur brynge to hym."
And so thei dyd ilke a man:
Alle the good, that euere thei wan
Off the castel and of the toun,
Thei broght with hem and laide adoun.
¶ And he delte hit aboute him thore
To hem that most worthi wore
And most hadde put her lyff In werre
And ffauȝt fastest with her powerre,
The castel for to gete and wynne
And the godis that were ther-Inne.
¶ "The morwe afftir at the sonne rysyng"—
He bad—"that euery lord and kyng
In that lond with him schulde be
With-oute drede, for ther wolde he
Holde a parlement general
With alle the lordis gret and smal."
¶ Consilium Grecorum.
¶ The morwe afftir In the dawenynge,
Er the sonne be-gan to sprynge,
Were comen to him—or it was day—
Alle the lordes that ther lay.
When thei were to-gedir met,
And echon doun by other set,
AGamenon seyde: 'lordynges,
Princes, dukes, and kynges!
Alle this world bothe ffer and ner
Spekes moche of oure Power
And wot, that we are mochel of myght,
That no man may vs greue be ryght,
But we of hem vengaunce take.
But herkenes now alle for my sake!
I holde that power good euery tyde
That is with-oute the vice of pride,
For offte it falles many to wo.
And oure goddis hates hit also:
He that loues pride, or hit haunte,
Ther-with wol thei not graunte.—
I wolde ther-fore, that no man sayde,
Ne that it come vs In vmbrayde,
That we pride In oure doyng,
Ne we with pride be-gon this thyng.
¶ Ȝe wot alle wel, whi we are comen
And oure way hedur has nomen:
To venge vs on kyng Priamus
Off the schame that he dede vs.
I wot also, how we haue brent
His castelles and his tounes schent.
Wherfore, if he were oure fo oreMS. ore, altered from ere.,
He hatis vs now wel more
And wolde now fayner take vengaunce,
If god ȝaue him suche a chaunce.
And thei haue geten hem gret pouste
And wote wel, that theire Cite
Is bothe styff, stalworthe, and strong,
Gret and mochel, large and long,
And ful of men and gode verroures,
That bold and hardy bene in stoures.
And thei that were lesse then we,
Thei are at home In here contre,
And that is tyme—so mote I thryue—
A wondir gret prerogatyue:
For offte men In theire owne contre
Scholde spede ȝow, ther were les then we;
That is, men,—as mot I thriue—
A wonder gret prerogatyue.
But thenk not, that I say this
For drede ne ffer—so haue I blis—
That we may the Troyens spille
And take the toun aȝeyn ther wille:
For ther nys no kyng so strong,
Ne no toun so large ne long,
That we ne may hem confounde
And keste his Cite to the grounde.
¶ But sikurly and be my fay!
Herfore it is, that I say:
If pride be non in oure nede,
We schal be worthi mochel mede.
Ȝe wote alle wele that ben here,
That Priamus sent his messangere
And prayed vs alle curtesly,
To sende him home dame Oxony;
And we with pride seyde "nay."
That hem mysliked permafay!
And hadde we thenne his suster send
Home to him with-oute amend,
¶ Hic miserunt nuncios suos ad Regem Troianum.
Off al the harme that we him dud
Hadde now not this harme tud,
That thei dede vs in Thitarie;
Thei hadde not made suche robrie,
Ne qwene Eleyne fro thenne led
Fro the kyng that here hadde wed.
I wot neuere what wol be-falle;
I rede ther-fore, if ȝe rede alle,
That we sende oure Messager,
Wise and ȝepe, on fair maner,
And bid him wende to Troye Cite
To Priamus and his meyne,
And bidde the kyng: "sende vs a-ȝeyn
With-oute dwellyng the quene Eleyn
And make amendes of that Paris
In Thitarie dede amys."
And if it be that he thus do,
Oure worschepe is certis saued so;
And we may home with-oute more wende,
For we haue made a worthi ende:
We may no more aske by skyl,
If thei wil alle this fulfil.
And if it be that thei wol noght
Do that we haue hem be-soght,
And elles we wil with hem fyght
With alle oure power and oure myght;
And men schal blame her wodnes
And [praysen] ws fforMS. ws and ff on erasure; behind ffor a word like seche seems to have stood. oure meknes.
And therfore, lordes, say me now:
Off this consail what thynke ȝow?'
Some assented wel ther-to
And sayde, "it was wel to do;"
And some helde it for a cowardyse,
To make a pees In suche a wyse;
¶ Hic ueniunt duo Reges Grecorum ad Regem Troianum.
But atte laste thei alle assent.
And on this erand two kynges went,
That noble kyng Diomedes,
And his felawe, sir VlixesV put before l by a later hand; cf. 3847..
TO Troye ben come these kynges
To Priamus with here tydynges
In-to his halle, ther he was set;
But non of hem thei ones gret,
But sette hem doun with semblaunt store
A-ȝeyn the kynges in-myddis the flore.
LixesLixes; cf. note I. sais: 'haue ȝe no meruayle,
That we, sir kyng, the nothyng hayle!
For we knowe wel the for oure enemy,
And we be thin sicurly.
But herkenes, what we wol say,
And late vs wende on oure way:
¶ Agamenon, oure Emperour,
That is kyng of gret fauour,
Sendes the word and biddis the
By this kyng & also by me:
"Sende to him Eleyne the quene,
If thow wilt be with-outen tene,
And make amendes to him holy
Off the schame and vylony,
That Paris dede to his brother,
To him also, and to many other."
And but if thow wil, he sendet the word:
"That thow schalt dye with spere and sword,
And alle thi folk and thi meyne;
And riche Troye, thi faire Cite,
Schal be brent and doun ytrowe,
And thow and thyne be broght wel lowe." '
PRiamus was with hem y-tened,
Whan he saw what thei mened.
With-oute consail he answerde—
For here wordes him sore derede—
He seyde: 'what deuel may this be,
That ȝe amendes aske of me,
That haue my fader fro me sclayn,
And don my-self mychel payn,
And my suster fro me refft,
And my men in seruage lefft?
¶ By him that al this world wroght!
Me thinketh, that ȝe ȝoure-selff ought
Make amendis to me and myne,
That ȝe haue do so moche pyne!
But wendes out swithe of my sight,
For of ȝoure wordes haue I dispit!
Ne were that ȝe come in message,
Veleyns dethe schulde be ȝoure wage;
For I am not with-oute Ire,
Whil I se ȝow, be my swyre!'
Dyomedes sat and smyled,
When Priamus hem so reuyled;
He seyde: 'sir kyng, so mote I the!
If thow haue tene of him and me.
Thow schalt be more in doute
To bere thi lyff with the aboute;
For thow schalt se vnto the come
An .C. Ml. on a throme
Off men of Armes wel y-dight,
With the, kyng, and thyne to fight.
For whan thow may not the defende,
And thei haue the and thi toun brende,
That the schal sle and thyne also,
Iff that thow anger at vs two.'
¶ Many Troien that ther stode
For tene and angur were ner wode,
That Dyomedes, the Gregeys,
Vn-to the kyng In his Paleys
Spake thus foule and vilously.
Many a Troien drow hem ney,
With drawen swordes vengaunce to take
Off him for his wordes sake.
¶ But Priamus him-self vp ros,
And to his men wel sone he gos
And bad hem alle on lyff and lym,
Not so hardy to greue him.
Eueas, that by the kyng sat,
Was an-angered sore for that;
He saide: 'sir, if it were thi wille,
Me thenke that it were gret skille,
That he his wordes dere aboght,
That ȝow and vs hath set at noght;
And ne were it drede of ȝow,
He scholde this wordis abye now.'
Dyomedes ȝaf no tale
Off alle that sat there In that sale,
He sayde to Eueas al on hye:
'Thow that sittes the kyng so neye,
God ȝif grace, that I the mete
With-oute the toun by stye or strete!
I schal the qwite wel thi mede
Off thi gode wordes, so god me spede!'
¶ But his felawe Vlixes
Bad him: "be stille and holde his pees
And leue his fare and his Iangelyng;"
Vlixes saith thenne to the kyng:
'We haue herd al that thow sais;
We wol now wende to oure Gregeis,
And tydynges to hem fro ȝow bere
Off thi saynge and thin answere.'
¶ Hic Greci tenuerunt magnum consilium.
Thei toke here horses sone anon,
And to the Gregeis gan thei gon
Ouer downe and ouer dike,
As faste as thei myght prike,
Til thei come to Thenedoun.
Thei sayde to Agamenoun
AndMS. That. alle the lordes that ther wore,
What answere that thei ȝaff hem thore.
¶ The Gregeis were merueyled,
What myght it be that hem ayled,
In wham thei hadde so moche trayst,
That thei were right not a-bayst.
Many a counsayl then thei sought,
How thei myght brynge hem to noght.
GRet consail and parlementes
Thei made offte In her tentes:
How thei scholde do, and how to fete,
For Troye to wynne for that grete hete;
And how thei scholde lyue, whil thei were thore,
And w[h]ere thei scholde haue her store.—
Vpon a day that emperour
AlleMS. And alle. the lordes of that honour
In-to a playn dede clepe and calle;
When thei were comen to him alle,
¶ He seide: 'lordynges, se ȝe alle wele:
The Troyens ȝeue of vs no dele;
With fairnes wil thei not loute,
Thei ben of herte so stoute.
With myght and strengthe we mot conquere
Alle that in the toun are there,—
And long also ben ȝeres ten,—
For thei ben alle doughti men;
And we may hem not assaile,
But if vs come offte vitayle.
¶ Hic incipit bellum per Grecos contra Regem Cesile.
Here is a lond with-Inne the see,
Off alle manere of good that is plente;
I wene, men calle hit Cecyle.
If that it be ȝoure alleres wille,
I rede: sende thedur oure sonde
To the kyng of that londe,
And bidde him, that he wol puruay
Mete and drynke by nyght and day
And sende vs ouer with pees & reste;
And thus me thinket, it were beste.'
When Agamenon hadde sayde thus,
Achilles and sir Thelaphus—
That was Ercules owen sone—
Were chosen be eleccione,
To do this erande and wende ther way;
And nother of hem seide 'nay.'
Thei toke with hem, to passe the see,
Off doughti knyghtes thousandes thre,
And sayled faste vnto that land
And lete here schippus In hauen stand,
And drow out horses and stedes
And here strong Iren wedes.
WHen Theman kyng herd say,
That thei of Grece In suche aray
Were opon his lond alyght,
He made him redi with hem to fyght;
He broght with him to that batayle
Off men of Armes and other pedayle
Thousandes fele and hundres als,
With swerdes and scheldes aboute here hals.
And whan Gregeis saw hem comande,
To putte hem thus out of that lande,
Opon a res thei to him rode,
And thei to him with-outen abode.
A gret batayle was be-twene hem tho,
For her enemys were wel the mo,
For sicur thei were suche thre
Then Achilles & his meyne.
On euery side thei fel thikke doun,
Some alle dede, and som in swoun.
Off hem of Grece ther died gret won,
And of that other many on.
The Gregeis were of gret power,
Thei ne hadde endured in no maner,
Ne hadde Achilles I-bene
Agayn her foos—and that was sene.—
He saw many that him assayled
And his men wel thikke fayled;
He loked wel faste In here fyghtyng,
Where he myght se her kyng;
Where he faught, he was wel war,
And Gregeis faste to erthe he bar.
AChilles then vnto him prykes,
And many a strok to him he strikes,
And threwe him doun to the grounde
With many delful hidous wounde;
He thoght the kyng right ther sclo,
Or he wolde fro him go.
¶ But Thelaphus that be-held
And kept that strok vpon his scheld,
He seide: 'Achilles, leue sire,
For goddis loue, leue thin Ire!
I pray ȝow for goddis ore,
That ȝe to him do harme no more;
But ȝeues me this curtais knyght,
That ȝe haue ouercome in fyght.'
¶ Achilles sayde: 'what may this be?
Thelaphus, what eyles the,
Off me to craue and aske mercy
Off him that is thin enemy?'
Thelaphus seide: 'sire, be my fay!
Al the sothe I schal ȝow say,
Now ar ȝe hennes wende:
This man was my fadir frende,
And gret worschepe to me hath done;
By him, that made sonne & mone,
For him therfore mercy I craue,
The knyȝtes body of the to haue.'
¶ 'Thelaphus,' he seyde, 'take him the,
I ȝeue him the al clene fro me;
Do with him al thi wille,
Whether thow wil saue him or spille.'
Thelaphus toke vp thenne Theman,—
For bledynge he was blo and wan,—
And sente him home to his dwellyng;
Off here fyght made thei endyng.
But Theman prayed sir Achilles
And Thelaphus with-outen les:
"That thei wolde home with him wende,
For he was ney at his ende;
And Thelaphus wolde he kyng make
And his reme to him take,
For of his body hadde he non air,
To kepe that lond that was so fair."
¶ To-geder bothe with him thei wente,
Whan the batayle was thus ente.
Whan thei come to his forselet,
And he was layde, and thay doun set,
He sente affter his baronage,
And dede hemMS. hem, altered from him. make to him omage
And corouned him by-forn hem alle,
To be here kyng, right In that halle.
And thus Thelaphus is mad her kyng
And has that lond in gouernyng,
For Theman dyed in that stede
And beryed he was with mochel pride.
THelaphus is now lord and sire
Off al that lond and that empire
And alle the goodes that Theman hadde,
And alle ben hise, for so he badde;
For he is ded and richely graven.
And Achilles is In the haven,
And his schippus are richely fraught
With flesshe and fysche and other aught,
With corne and mele and tonnes of flour
And gentil wynes of good odour;
And maketh him redi forward to fare,
And Thelaphus makes him al ȝare
With him a-ȝeyn to the Gregeis go,
To Thenedoun that he come fro.
¶ But Achilles to him says,
"That he scholde dwelle ther In pais
And puruay vitayles and store,
That thei may lyue, whil that thei ben thore."
And Thelaphus dwellid stille
At his byddyng aȝeyns his wille,
And Achilles toke the see
With his vitayles and his naue;
And sayled forth to Thenedoun,
Ther he fond Agamenoun
And alle the lordis of that ost
Dwellynge stille in that cost.
¶ And when thei herde of his comyng,
To him thei ran bothe lord and kyng
And welcomed him deuotly,
Of his comyng glad were thei.
"How he hadde sped," he tolde hem alle,
"And of Thelaphus how it was falle,
And dwelled ther stille and be lord and kyng
And puruay hem vitayles of alle thyng;"
He schewed the vitayles that thei hadde brought
With him to londe, he heled it noght.
Then were the Gregeis Proude and fayn,
That thei herde the certayn,
That he was lord of that kyndome
Fro whethen alle that riches is come.
Thei bad god ȝeue him blis,
That so wisly him dud I-wys;
For now drede thei no-thyng,
Nother of mete ne of drynk,
¶ Now hath Achilles hem vitayles brought.
Agamenon is In moche thoght,
How thei schul Troye be-sege best;
Many a wyle and wit the[i] kest,
Whether thei wente by day or by nyght
And take the land with-oute syght,
Whil thei of Troye were alle on sclepe
And to hem wolde take no kepe;
But thei were ferd, if that thei went
By nyghtes tyme, lest thei were yschent
And breke her schippus on cragges and stones,
And lost hem selff al at ones.
And so dwelled the Gregeys thore
A ful twelue monthe and more,
That thei to Troye toke non hede;
So hadde thei alle of hem suche drede.
But Stace telles vs and says,
That thei lye so long in pays
For drede thei hadde of Ector knyght,
So mochel thei dredde of his myght.
Then seyde Diomedes:
'How longe schal we lye her In pes,
Gode men, kynges and dukes?
Drede of herte vs alle rebukes!
We ben so ferd of oure enemys,
That thei bere vs to no prys;
We haue now leyne and rest vs here—
Ȝe wot alle wel—more than a ȝere,
That we durst neuere be water ne londe
Se ones Troye right at honde.
What may they wene but cowardise
Off vs for-sothe and gret ffayntise,
That we ben so of hem a-dred,
That we for drede ben al mad?
¶ Alas that we so longe a-byden,
That we ne hadde rather to hem reden
And the toun myghtily assayled,
Sicurly it hadde vs a-vayled!
For now drede thei vs right noght,
For we haue noght to hem wroght,
But spend oure good and oure vitayle;
And that doth vs noght a-vayle.
And thei hem gete lordes kene,
A-ȝeyns vs hem to mayntene;
For we haue sene, sethen we come hidur,
Many kynges comen thedur
With gret meyne and chiualrie,
To helpe wel her partie.
¶ Gret schame it is—as hit is sene—
That we durst neuere Troye mene,
Ne neuere durst we hit ones se,
Kyng Priamus and his Cite!
Whi dwelle we thus In suche manere?
I rede, dwelle we no lenger here,
Hic Imperator et omnes Reges Grecorum nauigant versus Troianum.
Be it to wele or to wo—
I rede, that we hennes go,
¶ Ryse erly, when the day dawes,
Put vs forth among the wawes,
With alle oure schippus with mochel Ioye
Wende we to the Cite of Troye;
For we schal neuere other-wyse
Opon the Troyens lond arise.'
The kynges assented wel ther-to,
Thei sayde thei myght no betre do;
Thei let crie al on hye,
That euery knyght were thenne redy,
That thei were redy In the dawenyng
To wende forth with-oute dwellyng.
NIght is went and gon a-way,
Day is dawed and is day,
It was a louely morn,
And Agamenon blew his horn.
Anon the lordes of the flete
Out with here schippis thei dede schete
Out of the hauenes in-to the see,
With al here men and ther naue.
And ther ordeyned that Emperour
AndMS. That. alle the lordes of gret honour,
Whiche of the schippis schal go by-fore,
And how fele hundres and score,
And whiche schal wende afftirward,
And whiche in the mydward.
So that he ordeyned thus,
That the kyng Protheselus,
That was a kyng of gret noblay,
The hauen schulde furst asay
With an hundred schippis grete;
And he ther byddyng wold not lete.
¶ He gadered his schippus on a route,
And bad hem gadere him a-boute
And sayle besyde him euer nye,
And drawe her sayl wel on hye,
And sette here baneres on the mast;
And sayle forth were thei not agast
Toward Troye a wel gode pas.
And alle these other vpon a ras,
Euery lord—as he was boden,—
Now are thei toward Troye reden
With gret thretyng and manas hard.
Prothesely hath the vanward,
The lond of Troye for to take;
But furst schal he and alle hese qwake
For drede of deth, or thei take reste;
Er schal thei suffre mochel breste,
Or thei take bank or brynke;
Thei tolde it not as thei thynke.
GRegeis ben alle graythed ȝare
To the toun of Troye to fare;
Thei ar comen so ney her wones,
That thei se bothe toures and stones
And the subbarbes al aboute;
But thei hadde so moche doute,
How thei scholde on londe lyght
For hem of Troye whan thei hadde a syght;
For many a Troyen sen thei stonde
Armed wel opon the londe,
To put hem fro the water bankes,
That thei ne tok lond but ther vnthankes.
¶ But sicurly when thei of Troye,
Kyng and quene, knyght and boye,
Say the Gregeys sayles long and large,
Eche man hente bothe sword and targe
And drow forth hors and gret cou[r]ser,
And rode and ran to the ryuer
With-oute heste of here kyng
Or with-outen Ectoris wetyng;
That Gregeys scholde no lond take
With-oute bale and mochel wrake.
¶ But Prothesaly the formast was
Off alle the schippis In that ras,
Saw he not no better to do
Ne on no wise to come to,
But thorow strokes and fyght.
He sayled forthe to hem streyght
With alle the schippis In his ledyng;
But gret foly dede ther that kyng,
For he sayled In with a feble sayl
And þat was him to wrotherhayl:
For the wynd was hard and store
And so faste him to the lond bore,
¶ Aȝeyns the bank hem so droff,
That many a chippeMS. chipp. ther al to-roff,
And the men fel out and sank
Dede and drowned by the bank.
And tho that on the lond dede lepe
The Troyens leyde vpon an hepe,
Thei bare hem doun and sclow al-weyes
Doun to grounde the Gregeis;
To scle hem the Troyens not belened,
In-to the sky the strokes dened.
¶ The Gregeys ȝolled and cried loude,
It was a-bouen hem lyke a cloude,
So fley the arwes to and fro
That the Gregeis dyed with mechel wo.
Lond and water was al rede
Off hem that were sclayn and dede.
Sithen schippis ȝodeMS. ȝowe. furst with sayl and wynd,
Might neuere man In book fynd,
With so gret wo to gete land,
As the Gregeys dede, I vndirstand.
PRothesaly hath his naue
Neyhondes lorn and his meyne
Thorow his outrage and his vn-wit,
Opon the lond so harde he hit.
But than come sayland opon a rowe
Afftirward with sayles lowe
An hundrid schippis gret and stronge
With semely mastes fair and longe
In-to that hauen war and wisly,—
Ther other men were wel grisly,
In the water swam and flotered,
And there schippis a-boute totered;
And to the lond so sofft thei sette,
That thei were nothyng lette
With bank ne cragge ne with ston.
But thenne come Troiens many on
To the bank to hem ful blyue,
Fro the lond hem to dryue.
But in the schippis were goode archeres
With dartes and gonnes & Arb[l]asteres;
The Gregeis thenne her bowes bent
And many an arwe thei hem sent,
Many a darte was ther cast and schotyn,
And many a bodi ouer-floten.
The Gregeis were apert and quyk,
That arwes on londe thei dede styk,
That many of Troye to dethe fell
With dynt of Arwe and of qwarell;
Thei drow a-bak—so were thei hurt.—
The Gregeis on the lond sturt
And faught boldely and at devis
Opon the lond with here enemys;
Thei helden Troyens hard and stale,
But scholde thei neuere of bote herd bale,
Ne hadde ben Prothesaly,
T[h]e noble kyng of Filaundry.
HE sclow that tyme with-outen vmbre
Mo Troyens than I can numbreMS. humbre.;
Nadde he ben and his noblay,
Hadde neuere Gregeys passed a-way;
For sicurly his doughtynes,
Alone his myȝth and his prowes,
Saued alle the Grwes that ther were
Fyghtyng in feld tho there.
But for alle his mythMS. myth. that he haddeThe last four words by another hand, myth on erasure.
The Gregeis were so harde be-stadde,
That many onMS. manyon. on grounde lay,
For tho of Troye were mo than thay.
Hem were leuere dye than fflee,
And to be drowned in the see;
To theire schippis hadde thei no teynt,
Thei were so for-foghten and almost faynt.
The Troyens droff hem bak-ward
With harde strokes the see toward,
Than were thei dreven to the bank,
That many fel In the see and sank.
¶ But thenne come many a gret karik,
Ful of knyghtes wel ydyght;
Kyng Procenor and Archelaus
Come then to helpe Prothesalaus;
With alle ther men on londe thei wente,
With hardi herte and good entente
To socour her frendes: that was hem leff,
In dout of dethe that was In myscheff.
¶ But alle thei were In drede of dedeMS. The last two· letters of dede by a later hand on erasure.;
Schuld thei neuere haue eten brede,
Not for hem alle ne Procenor,
Ne hadde not come the duke Nestor:
But he come then to the batayle,
As faste as he myght sayle,
With many a schip and many a floyne;
For him and his schippis fil fair fortune,
And louely grace god to him sende,
That he and hise sauely des[c]endeMS. defende.
Opon that lond with-oute hurtyng,
With-oute harme or schipeMS. schip. brekyng.
¶ Then myght men se speres schake,
And many a man for drede qwake;
Here swordeso corrected from e. thriffly to-gedur rang,
Eche a man on other dang;
The arwes ȝede so thikke on hye,
That no man myght for hem se the skye;
Arwes and quareles thikke flewe,
Euery man on other hewe;
Thei fel doun ded on euery halue,
That neuere myght be heled with oyment ne salue.
THen come a-londe kyng Alacris,
And Askalus with alle his,
With doughti knyghtes gode and fresche,
With grete speres of Oke and asche.
Thei wounden the Troyens thikke,
And faught with hem wel quykke,
And thei of Troye bakward drowe;
And many fel ded In sowe.
¶ But fele Troyens stode be-syde,
That hadde not meved of alle that tyde,
Ne neuere ȝaff stroke of al that day,
But by-held the batayle ay.
¶ Hic venit ad bellum cum magno suo vlixes.
But whan thei sey her men hadde nede,
Thei come doun wel good spede;
Thei socoured here felawes egrely
And sclow the Gregeys bitterly;
Thei wounded many in that poynt,
Ther was lorn many a Ioynt,
Many a leg and many a thye,
Many an hond and many a kne;
Some loste his nase and his lyppis.
Thei droff hem bacward to here schippis,
For drede of dethe and myghtles
Thei were brouȝt al in distres,
That thei hadde dyed with swerdes orde
Or drouned vndir schippis borde,
Ne hadde Vlixes comen then
With many a knyght and doughti men.
THe Gregeis myght hem not defende,
But Vlixes was then ner-hende
And toke the londe, and ȝede forth streyght
With alle his men to the fyght.
The Grues toke herte In his comyng,
That thei that were be-fore fleyng,
Turned a-ȝeyn, and hertely ran
On her fomen, and offte hem wan
Off hem of Troye, be his helpyng.
Vlixes then began to spryng
¶ A-mong Troyens anon,
In many stedis bare he hem don,
And hurt hem sore and lefft hem bledande
With a spere he bar In hande,
And wounded many gode Troyene.
And that beheld kyng Phylomene,
How he bare Troyens to the grounde,
Wondir many In a stounde;
Him thoght In-sonder his hert gnowe,
That he dede Troyens so doun drowe;
He thoght to him for to ride,
To se if he him wolde abyde
And made him of his dedis sese.
Philomene rode to Vlixes
And ȝaff him certes suche a poppe,
That he fel ouer his hors croppe.
¶ But Vlixes anon vp ros,
And to the kyng a-ȝeyn he gos
Off that strok to take vengaunce;
He smot Philomene with his launce
Ryght euen In-myddis his scheld,
That it flow out In the feld;
He brast his Pisan and his coloret
And claff his vayn In his goriet:
Vlixes ȝaff him suche a wounde,
That he fel dede almost to grounde;
Alle the Troyens that ther wore
Wende, he scholde haue dyed thore.
¶ A gret wayment and hidous cry
Might men here then witterly,
That the Troyens made y-wys
For the wounde of Philomenys.
Thei drow him fro his hors fete
And leyde him sofftly and swete
Opon his scheld with gret wepyng,
As he hadde ben sclepyng,
And bare him faire of that stede,
That men ne hors scholde on him trede.
¶ That fel faire for men of Grece,
Thei hadde elles dyed euery pece;
For certes ne hadde ben that combraunce,
That ne hadde fallen that myschaunce,
¶ Hic venit Imperator & omnes alij Reges Grecorum ad prelium.
The Gregeis hadde neuere passed that place,
But thei had dyed,—suche was here grace.
PHilomene was wounded ille.
TheMS. That. Gregeis were In poynt to spille;
Thei nyste what thei schulde haue don,
Ne hadde ben the kyng hurt so sone;
Thei hadde ben hewen euery a schrede,
But hem come help In that nede:
¶ For then come the kyng Thoas
With alle the naue that his was,
And the doughti Thelamanyous,
And with his schippis Menelaus,
¶ And the Emperour Agamenon;
Euery man the lond lepe on
And toke her hors and theder rode
With baneres blauwande bright and brode,
And the Gregeis were rescued,
And many a Troyen ther thei bowed,
And bare hem doun opon the grounde,
With speres scharpe and with hidous wounde.
¶ The noble kyng Prothesaly,
That alle that day so nobly
Hadde foughten ther In armes prest,
Sete be-syde to take his rest,
Ther the batayle was ffurst by-gunne;
He saw the place was al by-ronne,
Spred with blod and dede bodyes,
That ther lay sclayn that hadde ben hes;
He saw hem sclayn and ligge ther,
He wepit for hem many a ter.
¶ He toke his stede by the rayne,
To the fight he ȝede a-ȝayne,
Ful of woundes and of Ire;
He brende for wo as any fire
For his gode men that were sclayn
And al to-hewenMS. alto hewen. body and brayn.
He thoght, her dethe wolde he venge,
He sought the batayle euery renge;
Off strong ne feble toke he no kepe,
He sclow hem doun, as it were schepe,
Many gode Troyen that tyde
Sclow that kyng with woundes wyde
In his outrage and his wodnes;
The Troyens were then myghtles.
¶ Vnto her help and here refute
A worthi kyng and ful deuoute,
The noble kyng of Ethiope;
Then was ther many a blodes drope.
When comen Ethiopenes,
Gret hardines toke the Troyens,
Thei Turned aȝeyn on ther fomen
And sclow hem doun by nyne and ten,
And droff hem to the water efft.
Ther schulde no Gregeis on lyue haue lefft,
Ne hadde comen Palamydes
With many a scheld, with bond and fes;
With hors and man was he thanne boun,
To that batayle he come soun
And bar doun men as he were wode,
And spilled faste the Troyens blode.
¶ A doughti Troyen he by-helde,
That many a Gregeis In that felde
Hadde sclayn that day, sir Sygamon,
The kynges brother gode Mennon.
With a spere—was scharp y-grounde,
Better was non amonges hem all yfounde,—
Palamydes to him rode,
That thorow his sydes bothe it glode,
¶ Hic venit Ector cum populo suo ad prelium.
That Segamon his liff for-ȝede
And fel doun ded by his stede.
He rod forth & lefft him lygand,
To the batayle faste smytand;
¶ He sclow the Troyens—as he were wod—
And schedde wel mochel of here blod,
That thei myght suffre no lenger;
Tho were the Grues wel the strenger,
On euery a syde the Troiens flede;
Then thei were hard be-stede,
With mochel noye and wo thei fauȝt.
The Gregeis then toke a drauȝt
Toward the toun ney halff a myle,
Many a Troyen died that while.
¶ The noyse was moche & gret clamour;
Ector herde hem make sorow,
For tene his herte began to bollen,
And bothe his chekes gret swollen;
He toke his armes and his atyre,
That were as bryght as siluer wyre;
A better man was neuere on molde,
He bar a scheld of rede golde,
With thre lyons paynted ther-In;
A delful note he thoght be-gyn.
ECtorMS. EEtor. is armed, his stede be-strode,
He rod forth with-oute a-bode,
Toward his men gan he gange,
Him thoght he dwelled ther to longe.
He saw the Troyens faste fleand,
He rod to hem faste criand
And bad: "thei scholde a-ȝeyn turne,"—
'Drede ȝow not ȝoure enemys sturne!'
Ihesu lord! what thei were glad,
When thei here noble leder had!
¶ Hic Ector occidit Prothesalium Regem.
Was non so feble his voyce here,
But it amendid herte and chere,
And turned a-ȝeyn with hardi herte
A-ȝeyn here enemys wonder smerte.
¶ Ector rode In that batayle,
Armes myght him non a-vayle;
Wo was him that he ful hit,
For of his lyff was he quyt.
He partid the Gregeis host in-sundir,
Eche man of him hadde wondir;
Off suche a man haue ȝe non herd!
Alle that he hitte, to dethe thei ferd.
¶ As he rodeto inserted over line between rode and Gregeis. Gregeis thus sleande,
Aȝeyns him mette he comande
A doughti kyng, Prothesalye,
That many of Troye that day dede dye;
He smot him offte with his swerd naked,
That many Gregeis afftir qwaked;
With his swerd Ector him smot,
That he fel doun anon fot hot;
He cleff the body euen In halff,
As it hadde ben a clouen calff.
WAs non so bold, durst by him pas;
Eche man asked, "what he was?"
Thei fled fro him as fro the ded;
Whom that he hitte, ete neuere bred.
The Gregeis pride Ector abasched,
He sclow so fele, er he sesed,
That alle were ferd that on him loked;
He maymed many, and made hem croked
Off legge, of arme, of fote, or too;
But ȝit sclow he of hem wel moo.
Alle made him way and lete him ride,
Was non so bold durst him a-byde.
The sonne goth doun, it is ney euen,
Many a stroke hath Ector ȝeuen,
He was weri of men scleyng,
Off ffyghtyng, and of strokes ȝeuyng,
For he sesid neuere with-oute fayle,—
And that was certes moche meruayle!—
Fro the tyme that he by-gan,
Off al that day he neuere belan.
¶ Gregeis be-gan for to fle,
And Ector rod to his Cite
And leffte that other ther ffyghtande.
Achilles cam thenne faste saylande
With alle his gode Mirmydanes;
With sword and spere and gret burdones
Vnto that batayle he him hyed,
The Gregeis thenne a-ȝeyn relyed;
Thei hadde comfort of his comyng,
On hem of Troye theiMS. i inserted by a later hand. gonne thryng.
AChilles be-gan Troyens to felle,
Some to wounde, and some to quelle;
Thei died faste on bothe parties,
He made aboutes him wayes and sties.
Achilles brouȝt with him ridand
Off men of Armes thre thousand;
Then hadde the Troyens ful gret doute
Thei fel doun dede ouer-al a-boute;
For then were Gregeis alle on londe,
With swordes and speres & staff in honde,
Fyghtand faste In that assaut;
The Troyens faste ther dethe laut,
For Achilles wodely
Sclow hem doun ful delfoly;
Thei myght no lenger him with-stande,
Thei turned the bak faste fleande,
Toward Troye to saue here lyues.
But Achilles afftir dryues,
He felde hem doun on euery sideThe last two words of this line, and the last three of the next, by a later hand, partially on erasure.
And lefft hem liyng with woundes wide.
¶ Thei ffolwede hem to Troyes ȝate;
Wo was hem that come to late,
For he was sclayn with-oute pite,
That ther by tyme hadde non entre.
It was hidous and right grisly
Off Troiens thenne to heere her cry,
The fadres saw here children bold
Lye ded In the strete ColdMS. wol Cold, a letter (probably d) being erased behind wol, and Cold added by a later hand.,
Then was ther dele with-oute lauȝter;
The Gregeis made of hem gret slauȝter,
And wounded hem in here fleyng.
But thei were lettid of her entryng:
¶ For then come ride the gode Troylus,
And his brother Dephebus,
And droff a-ȝeyn the ffel Gregis
With strokes sadde and mechel vnpes;
Hit was derk nyght by thenne y-wys,
Achilles ȝede with mochel blys,
With mochel Ioye and gret preysyng,
With his Gregeis to here restyng;
And thei of Troye with barre & haspe
Spered the ȝates with many a claspe,
That thei with-oute come not In
With-Inne the nyght with scleyght ne with gyn.
AGamenon lokes on euery syde
A place couenable on toMS. onto. abyde;
He bad hem alle, her tentis sette;
Thei swore alle, "thei wold not letteMS. Icche lette, Icche being crossed by a later hand, and lette added by the same.;"
Thei sayde, "thei wolde neuere that place letMS. fyt, but inserted by a later hand on erasure.,
Or Troye were clene doune ybet."
¶ Stedis was delyuered to euery a lord,
Thei ran alle to reste and cord,
To sette vp tentis, Pauylons to bylde;
Thei reysed vp bothe halle and tylde,
That riche were and mochel preysed;
Many a tent was ther vp-reysed,
Long, and round, and eke sqware,
Semely dyght & faire to her sight thare,
With eglis faire and riche In syght,
Off riche gold and mechel of wyght,
With pomeles bright—with-oute fable—
Brode baneres on euery gable.
¶ Opon her tentis thei dede en-haunse
Euery lord his contenaunce;
And thei that hadde no teld ne tent,
Scheldes and bowes faste thei bent
And be-gonnen a-boute hem bygge,
That thei myght ther-Inne lygge.
To thaire schippis ffaste thei ȝede
And drow out vitayles good spede,
¶ Thei drow out larder of venyson,
Salt beff, and salt bacon,
And other fflesch bothe fresche and salt,
Cornes, wynes, mele, and malt,
Grete tonnes ful of flour;
Riche Armor of riche a-tour,
Coffres grete with stele barrelles,
That were ful of gode quarelles,
And other armes in gret tonnes,
Scheldes, helmes, dartes, & gonnes,
And many other grete engynes;
And tyed her schippis with ropes & lynes,
And Ankeres grete kest on the sond,
That non of hem scholde wond.
Mules & hors bene put to cracche,
And afftir that thei sette here wacche
With sicur men that wolde not slepe,
On euery a side that ost to kepe;
Thei dede falle bothe oke and plane
And made fir In euery a lane,
That men myght se bothe ner and ferre
Ouer-al a-boute In eueryche a corner;
¶ The fires ȝeuen a gret lyght,
As of hit hadde ben day-lyght.
Mynstralles her pipes hente
And alle other of Instrumente,
Thei nakered, piped, and blew,
Vnto that the Cokkes crew.
¶ And thus was thanne the sege be-gonne,
That laste ten ȝer, or Troye was wonne;
Ȝit was it neuere wonne with fyght,
With the Gregeis, ne with ther myght;
Hit was be-trayed falsly—Alas!—
With Antenor and Eueas.
HIt is day, the Cok hath crowen,
Many an horn thanne was blowen,
Many an horn and many a pipe;
Thei be-gan her Armure gripe
Bothe In feld and In toun;
Thei rered many a gomfanoun,
Baneres brode of fyne asure,
Grene, and white, of purpur pure,
Some were rede as vermyloun,
With pelotes, daunse, and Cheueroun,
Some with sauters engrele,
And some with bastoun wouerle,
Off sable some, of siluer fyn,
And some of hem be-gan to schyn.
¶ Hic Ector ordinat prelium suum.
¶ Ector bad his men ilkon,
That his meyne schold [brynge] echon
In-myddes Troie in a playn
Be-fore the temple in a champayn.
His batayles ther Ector arayed,
With many gode knyȝtes wel assayed;
He ordeyned themMS. then. in batayles nyne
With gode knyghtes & eke fyne,
And set aboue hem gouernoures,
Hardy knyȝtes and gode gyoures.
THe furst ost lad sir Glauntoun,
A kyng sone of gret renoun;
And Theseus, kyng of TrasMS. Tars.;
And Archilogo, that his sone was;
Two thousand knyȝtes gode and lele
Lad thei in that eschele.
'I ȝeue ȝow leue,' saide Ector, 'with this,
To go & come with mochel blis:
To ȝoure Enemys now ȝe hye,
And come a-ȝeyn with victorye!'
The ȝate was open on a rees,
Thei passed forth out of that prees.
The secunde batayle lede Alkan,
The kyng Antipe, that doughti man,
A douȝti knyȝt, a noble kyng;
The[i] hadde with hem in here ledyng
Thre thousand knyghtes gode & strong;
Thei rode alle forth In that throng,
With many doughti man hem myd.
He ordeyned then the batayle thrid,
Thre thousand of douȝti knyȝtes,
That were hardy at alle ryȝtes,
And called gode Troyle, and to him spak
And seyde: 'brother, I the be-tak
¶ Hic Ector et alii Reges Troiani ibant ad prelium.
These gode men In thi kepyng,
I praye oure goddis, a-ȝeyn ȝow bryng!
But I praye the, my broderMS. moder. dere,
By-fore these kyng[es]MS. kyng. & knyȝtes here,
That thow be wyse and not sauage;
Ȝif the not to outrage!
I drede me sore, thi hastines,
Thi noble herte, and thi hardines
Schal make the bold and vs schent,
But thow take gode avisement:
Vnto thi-self to-day take hede!
I pray oure goddis, that wel ȝow spede!'
TRoyle sayde in fair manere:
'Ȝif my god me helpe, that is me dere,
Ne haue ȝe of me no doute,
I schal do ȝow ther aloute,
And do alle ȝoure comaundement,
And kepe ȝoure heste in good entent.'
He toke his leue as curtais and hende,
To his Enemys he gan wende;
His armes were gode and newe,
His scheld was of Asure blewe,
With thre lyons of gold schynand;
Out of that ȝate he ȝede passand.
¶ Aboute these batayles Ector him paynes,
The fourthe batayleMS. batayles. he ordeynes
Of th[r]e thousand and hundres seuene,
Off knyȝtes gode—by god of heuene!—
With many a-nother douȝti man,
Vndir that douȝti kyng Vpan;
He was the strongest of that parti
Saue Ector him-self, but Dares ly.
¶ The ffyfft batayle then Ector made
Off stronge knyȝtes and eke sade,
Off doughti men with-oute ensoygne,
That comen were out of Cesoygne;
Thes ilke men were wonder stronge,
As geauntes mochel and longe;
The kynges armes were blewe and blo,
With-oute other signes mo.
¶ He called to him Polimodas,
A douȝti kyng, that hardi was;
He made him lord and her leder,
And prayed god be her speder.
¶ The sixte batayle with-oute les
Ledes Prosemen and Sterepes;
Thei fauȝt vn-armed in here atyres
With longe Arwes and scharpe vires.
He cleped Dephebus that folk to lede,
And bad to hem to take good hede.
He bad also to kyng Esdras,
Opon his heued his helm to las;
¶ Kyng Esdras and kyng Philon
Bothe thei dede her helmes on,
And wende to that batayle rude
With grete folk and multitude.
Kyng Philon a noble cart,
A wonder werk, made hade gart:
It was clene and al yvore
Bothe be-hynde and eke be-fore,
Siluer and gold on aythe[r] whele
Was layd aboute fair an[d] wele;
Al was be-gon, syde and hemmes,
Ful of riche precious gemmes;
Suche a cart ne precious
Saw neuere man, ne so gracious.
That batayle lad Piktagorasen,
With kyng Philon and kyng Esdrasen.
The seuenthe batayle led Eueas,
A strong kyng In euery plas,
With a noble Amerale,
That hete Eufen—so sayth the tale.—
¶ The .viii. batayle led Paris,
That Alysaundre het also y-wys,
With the noble kyng of Perse,
As Dares telles In his verse.
Ector sayde to Alysaundre:
'Off the come al this foule sclaundre,
For thi wyffes foule rape;
I rede that thow wysly scape,
That thow of hem be not dispised;
Come not among hem vn-avised,
Lete thyn ost be euer the by,
That thi fomen come the not ny!'
Paris seyde thenne: 'so god me rede,
I schal do, as ȝe haue seyde;
I schal be euere at thin heste.'
Thei ride forth with many a crest,
With many a baner by the wynde,
Some of sable, som of Inde.
¶ Ector called to him blyue
Off hardy knyȝtes thosandes fyue,
The stalworthest In Troye born;
When thei come him byforn
He made of hem the .ix. batayle.
As Ector coude, he arayes hem wele,
He bad hem be at his ledyng,
Thei were wel glad of that biddyng.
Ten of his brether that were hardye,
He dede In that companye;
Him-selfMS. selt. was armed In helme & bryny,
His stede by-gan wel loude to hyny.
Gret Ioye was of Ector ffayrnes,
Off his strengthe and his goodnes.
Dars the heraud—I the be-hote—
Many meruayles of him he wrote.
ECtor sat on Galathea,
The swyfftest hors that myght ga;
To his ffader Priamus
Rode he thenne, and seyde thus:
'My lord, my fader leue and dere,
A thousand knyghtes I leue ȝow here
With alle the pedel better and werre,
That the Gregeis vs not sterre,
To take oure toun with arte and scleght,
The while we In feld feght.
Ȝe ben wyse, good, and able,
Loke ȝe be gode and defensable!
I schal ȝow sende with knyȝtes and knapes,
How the batayle with vs scapes;
And afftir that I sende ȝow sonde,
Wele helpe ȝe vs, if nede be-stonde.'
¶ Kyng Priamus aȝeyn answeres:
'I prey god, that alle thyng weres,
Saue the this day fro dedly wounde
And sende the aȝeyn hole and sounde!
God sende me gode tythandes & blys,
For in the now al myn hope is,
In thi wit and thi connyng,
In thi strengthe and thi gouernyng.'
At his fadur leue he toke,
And with his batayle forth he schoke.
ECtor rode forth In gode vertuus,
Strong knyȝt, hardy and prus,
So hardy knyȝt was non a-losed;
Wel offte was he harde be-closed,
Hic veniunt Greci ad Prelium.
With the Gregeis alle vmbygon,
That of his men hadde he not on;
With hundres fele and thousandes bothe
Thei swore his deth with many an othe.
And he on fote, when his hors was sclayn,—
Ȝit dar I for-sothe sayn,
That non durst on him hond lay,
Ne non so bold come In his way.
His armes were faire and bryȝt of hewe,
His scheld was of Asure blewe,
In-myddes his scheld a lyon stode,
As rede as any blode.
¶ He markys him bothe body and brest
With Appolyn that was to him trest.
At his wendyng þan was he last,
Alle his batayles sone he past,
Til he was formest of hem alle.
The ladyes ȝede opon the walle,
Ther myȝt thei se on euery syde,
How the batayle scholde betyde.
¶ Ther was Eleyne, the faire qwene,
Hectuba and Pollexene,
And hir sustir Cassaunder;
Opon the walles thei gan wander,
For to se and to be-holde,
How thei fauȝt opon the wolde.
AGame[n]on In his de-vyseMS. de-gyse.
Hadde ordeyned wel alle hise;
He hadde on horse, with pedales,
Six & twenti grete batayles.
The formast warde ledde Patrodus,
A riche duk and a glorious;
When he that batayle toke to kepe,
Him hadde be betre layn to sclepe.
He was Achilles alyaunce,
And dede him gret greuaunce,
For he was his sworen brother,
So was that on to that other.
¶ The secunde ledde Diodemes,
Kyng Menon, and Menescens.
The thridde, the furthe, and eke the fifft
Lad many a kyng that neuere hadde schrifft;
Alle thei were dede, bothe duk and kyng;
To telle her names were gret tariyng.
¶ Then come Nestor duk, and kyng Makaon;
The laste of alle come Agemenon,
Off ther ost as an Emperour
And ther alther gouernour.
¶ Achilles bar non Armes thatMS. thar. day,
In his tent at home he lay
For a wounde, In strong aray
That he hadde cauȝt that other day.
¶ Now haue thei take the feld large
With helme, sword, and many targe,
Lased streyȝt in cote-Armures,
Y-heledMS. y heled. with riche covertoures,
Opon her stedes gaye trapped,
With yren and stele that were wel clapped
For dyntes of Arwes and schotyng;
Many man dyed at that metyng.
¶ Many a baner was displayed,
And many a stede aboute strayed
Among that ost Maystirles,
That ther lay ded, lyffles.
Ther were schankes al to-schiuered,
And many of his lyff delyuered,
Bakkes broken, bones brosten,
Many of here hors casten,
¶ Magnum bellum.
Many a cote on erthe trayled,
Many a wyff her lord ther wayled,
When thei alle to-gedir mette,
The archeres faste a-boute hem schotte,
Thei sclow and wounded many a score.
Ector rod his men be-fore
And Priked his stede, as he were wode,
That alle his sides ran on blode;
So ful of yre as Ector was,
When he saw so many come a-pas
Off so many Gregeis in his syght,
He wondred swythe, and so he myght.
PAtrodus, a kyng gaylard,
Was ledere of the vanward;
Ector come as a lyoun,
And Patrodus on a stede broun
Vnto Ector be-fore his men,
He strok his stede and dede him ren;
He bar Ector thorow the scheld,
But Ector faste his sadel held,
In-to the flesche he him smot,
And Ector to him [went] foot hot.
¶ He wex thenne wood and wroth I-now,
Out of his schethe his sword he drow,
He smot Patrodus on the hed,
Styff ded he him leued.
His strok with-stode no basenet,
His strong helme, ne his palet,
He cleff his heued atwo,
And bad him smyte no more so.
Doun on the grounde Patrodus fley
Off his hors, that many it sey.
¶ Ector saw his Armes schon
Off many a perle and riche ston;
Doun of his stede Ector lyght
That gode Armes to him dyght;
He held his stede be the rayne,
To spoyle the knyght that he hadde sclayne.
¶ Mennon led the ward the secunde,
He saw Patrodus on the grounde,
He saw Ector him wolde dispoyle,
But rather him thouthe with him toyle;
For Mennon to him ryght
With thre thousand knyghtis bryght;
Er he myght that body dispoyly,
Michel wo was sikurly!
MEnnon rode to Ector right euene
And him myssayd with loude steuene,
He spak to him wordes vnlede
And seyde: 'thow wolff, thow art wel grede!
Wenestow wynne that wyght rauyne,
Certes his harneys schal neuere be thyne;
Off this pray schaltow not tast,
For thow schalt se comande in hast
Fyffti thousand the to distroye,
And alle thei thenke the to noye.'
¶ When Mennon hadde him myssayde,
Alle the hepe on him layde,
Thei thoght his stede fro him reue,
And him to scle and ded leue;
¶ Thei ȝaff him many a stroke to holde,
Thei made his knes vndir him ffolde,
With fyne fors thei made him knele;
Ector tho loked as a deuele:
Maugre her tethe vp he ros
Aȝeyn the wille of alle his fos,
He cleue hem with his swordis egge,
As man doth the tre with wegge.
Many a bale he al to-ritMS. alto rit.,
Many aboute kyng Menon flit;
He toke his stede maugre her chekes,
And afftir hem he sekes,
Opon his heued a strok to wynde,
A-mong his men ȝif he him fynde;
In that prese hadde he him sene,
He hadde on him venged bene.
¶ But then come kyng Theseus,
And his sone Archilogus,
And thre thousand knyghtes with bren bryght,
And Ector thei felle on right;
But he that formast to him ran,
For-sothe he was a fey man:
¶ Ector sclow him hastyly,
And alle other that come him by;
The Troyens fauȝt with gret force.
Ector rod to the ded cors,
That he furst sclow, that het Cartays,
To reue him his harneys;
The kyng of Grece,—I vndirstonde—
Come with knyghtes two thousande
Aȝeyn Ector, and bad him let be:
'Thow schalt not haue his Armes with the.'
¶ Kyng Mennon come with moche route
And be-sette Ector al aboute,
Thei putte him certes fro his thoght,
The harneys of him nedeth him noght;
Loke afftir that, was it no bote.
Ector whan he was on fote
With many thousandes vmbyset,
An hondrid Gregeis on him bet,
As fele as myght him reche,
But Ector toke euere on hem wreche:
In many syde his swerd bared,
And many an hed he of pared,
He was so laid with armes and legges
Als thikke as mire with segges,
He smot of and maymed thore;
He was be-set with Gregeis sore.
¶ Mennon tokeMS. to̓ke. that ded body
And lyfft it fro the erthe an hy,
And bad his men be-fore him lay;
And ther-with thei ride a-way
And bare it home to his tent,
For Ector scholde not haue his garnement.
ECtor was strongly assayled,
But al therfore nought availed;
He wende he scholde not fro hem scape,
But of his swerd euere thei lape.
Ther was a knyȝt, sir Gorioun,
A stalworthe knyght, with sir Menoun;
An hundrid were at his assent,
To scle Ector, that was his entent,
And fro him toke with-oute ȝifft
His noble stede that was so swyfft.
But Ector sclow of hem ffyfftene
With-Inne a while with his swerd kene,
He defended him douȝhtily
A-ȝeyn hem alle ful myȝthly.
¶ A Troyen stode be-syde lokande,
He hadde two speres In his hande;
And sone he caste that on,
That hitte that kyng sir Gorioun,
That fro his body ȝede the soule;
Delfully then gan he ȝoule.
¶ Another was on Ector brym,
That other spere cast he at him,
Thorow-out his Armure gert he it flye;
Then thei of Troye be-gan to crye,
To held Ector he cried and grad
For thatMS. For In that. perel that he was In stad.
¶ When Senabor, his brother, herde
That Ector thus In batayle ferde,
He hied faste In al his myght
With al his ost In-to that fyght;
Thorow hem alle he to hem presed
And of that perel him relesed.
Off his strong men that were myghti
At his comyng were sclayn thritti,
Off hem that hadde him vmbecast
Thritti were ded, er thei past.
¶ Then delt Ector dyntes a-riȝt,
Alle ȝede to dethe that come in his sight;
He wolde not longe dwelle In here dette,
He sclow doun right alle that he mette.
Alle ȝede to dethe afftir that tyde,
That were so bold his strok to abyde;
He was with Ire so chaufed and het,
His armes were al blod & al wet;
He dalte aboute him large lyuere,
Of his strokes was he so fre,
That alle toke part that come him ner,
Erle, duke, knyȝt, & sqwyer.
¶ Many a riche amerayle
Broght he that day to wrotherhayle
And al his dole, many a knyght
Toke her dethe with-oute respit.
He fond no man wel many sithe,
On wham he myȝt his wratthe kythe.
TRoyle was on that other syde
And ȝaf the Gregeis woundes wyde,
He smot hem on that yren hat,
That ney the heued ofte it sat.
¶ Then come to batayle Menescene,
The noble duk of gode Athene;
Thre thousand knyghtes were with him,
Sturne knyghtes and grym.
He saw Troyle fel hem of Grece,
He rafft hem hondes, legges, and nece,
He ȝaff hem many an euel pat,
Menescen hadde dispite of that.
¶ He rode to him and hitte him lowe,
And bare him ouer his sadel-bowe,
That to the grounde doun of his stede
—Nolde or wolde—Troyle ȝede,
And for-stonet and wolde swouny.
Menescen made him þo besy
With alle his men and his power,
Troyle to haue to his presoner;
He put ther-to suche bysynes,
That Troyle, that lay in duysenes,
Was drawen out of hors trede,
And Menescen forth-with him lede
With mechel folk toward his prisoun;
He wende, for him to haue raunsoun.
THer was a kyng—het Meseres—
Saw the duk of Athenes
Hath take Troyle, the kynges sone:
"Helpe him now, if that thei konne;
Ȝiff thei her leder refuse,
Iff he be taken In suche gyse."
Echon loked thedirward,
Thei saw thei ledde Troyle thenward;
With loude voyce thei hem a-scryed,
And duk Mescene, he hem defyed.
He rode to him that Troyle hath sayled,
And with his spere to him taled:
He bare him thorow lyuere and longe,
He spak neuere afftir with tonge.
¶ The kyng Antipe smot duk Mescene;
Nadde his armes the strenger bene,
Ne scholde he neuere haue spoken word,
Ne bred eten at no bord.
Thes kynges two with her power
Delyuered Troyle of that daunger,
Thei sclow of hem a gret parti;
And Troyle was horsed with gret hy,
He dede him horse amonges hem alleThis line follows the next one in MS..
Then be-gan Mescene to calle
Afftir help to Gregeis stale;
But ther-of Troyle ȝaff no tale,
But fro his power is he refft,
Ther to come thenk he not efft.
I dar sothe say with-oute borwe:
Menescen hath then gret sorwe.
When he has thus his presoner lorn,
To his mouthe he sette his horn;
¶ In his horn blew he a blaste,
His men assemblent aboute him faste;
He prayed hem wel hertely:
"That thei schuld him helpe stalworthly,
To venge him on the kyng Troyene,
He hadde don him schame and tene."
He strok forth as a dragoun
And felde Troyens be-fore him doun;
As he rode In his wode res,
He met aȝeyn him Meseres,
The knyght that made him Troyle tyne,
On him wodly he rolled his eyne.
He felde him with a spere of Mapul
Among the feet of many capul,
He preked forth and lefft him thore,
For he myght harme him no more.
Vnto another he tho turned,
That of his hors sone he fondred.
¶ Then come he to helpe stalward
With alle his men the toun toward,
With alle his feloun Oripisus;
A-ȝeyn hem come Archilaus
With the kyng Procenore—
Off wham I haue told of byfore;—
Hard batayle ther was sene
Off ffoure kynges hem be-twene.
POllymodas with-oute dwellyng
With alle the men of his ledyng
Afftir thatMS. tho that. come out of Troye,
With mechel ffairnes and mochel Ioye,
With many an hors and on fote,
Some to sclynge and som to schote.
Afftir that come kyng Remus,
A-ȝeyn him come kyng Menelaus;
Kyng Remus brought thousandes thre
Knyȝtes gode to that semble,
¶ Menelaus brought suche two
And many man on fote also.
These kynges two to-gedur rode
With kene speres with-oute abode,
Vp ȝede thair feet & heued doun,
To the grounde ȝede the croun.
¶ Pollimodas rod to Merenes,
With his spere he him scles;
He was of elde of twenti ȝere,
And Eleyne Cosyn leue and dere,
In his ȝouthehed and his floures,
Hardi, styf, and strong In stoures.
¶ Menelaus saw that he was ded;
It was to him a carful red,
In his grete tene he smot Remus;
Opon his hed he smot him thus,
That thorow his helme he cleue his veyne;
His men wende, he hadde ben sclayne,
He was smeten to the eye,
His men wende, he schuld dye;
Thei toke here red then to fle
And wente her way and let him be.
¶ Polymodas hem made abyde,
He bad: "thei scholde aȝeynward ryde;"
He seyde: 'it is ȝoure vylony,
Fle ffro ȝoure lord so schamfully!'
Thei turned aȝeyn at his byddyng,
Thei wolde haue ben wel Iangelyng
At home with strokes seuene or eygte
Then ben there among that fighte.
A-mong the horses ther lord thei found
With mochel sorwe and hard stounde;
Men helde him ouerthwert,
For he was brosed hed & hert;
Some toke abouen and some benethen,
Wel seke and sore bere thei him thethen.
THere was a kyng—het Cilydis—
The fairest man that lyued y-wys,
So fair a man was non on lyue;
His fairnes myght no man discryue,
No man myght his fairnes say,
Ne with no colour hit portray.
Celidis smot Polimodas,
That Antenores sone was:
¶ Adhuc magnum bellum.
He rode to him to his vnprowe
With a spere stalwo[r]the and towe,
¶ Polidomas to the erthe he bare
Off his hors, er he were ware;
Polidomas ful wroth vp-sterte,
He pulled him by the skirthe,
He sette a strok vnder his choke,
That he myght neuere afftir loke;
For men myght se his tethe al white.
He lay ther ded as a kyte.
Ector ffel[d] the while and sclow
Alle that euere aboute him drow,
He felde and sclow the Gregeis euere,
Off al that day he sesed neuere;
He sesed neuere sethen he began,
He rod a-boute fro man to man.
If I durst say: the Gregeis blod,
That he hadde sclayn, a-boute him stod
In eche a batayle that he rod thorow,
As wynter water doth in forow.
¶ Ther come a kyng ridynge a-cost
In help of Grece with alle his ost,
With many a knyȝt hard & smert;
He toke Ector at discouert
With a spere, was not lyght,
That made his mayles vnright,
It roff In-two and brast In-sonder;
It was a strok lyke a thonder.
That yren was scharp and stalworthe,
With that strok Ector hurte he.
¶ Ector loked on him wrothly,
He cried afftirMS. afftir afftir. him hertly:
'A-byde, thow coward kyng Tentan,
For the loveMS. lowe. of thi lemman!
A-byde and stond a strok of me,
As I haue don of the!'
Tentan was so sore aferd,
He nolde abyde for al mydelherd,
He prekyd away ouer the valowe
As swyfft as any swalowe.
¶ As he rod affter walopande,
In his way mette he comande
A riche lord, an Amerayle;
Ector him felde—the sothe to tale—
He cleue his bodi In parties,
That ded of his [hors] he syes.
¶ The Gregeis then sprede Ector wyde,
Fyue thousand on euery syde,
Thei thoght him take or to sle,
Thei Iuged him alle quyk to fle;
But he ȝaff not a flax-bete
Off alle her bost ne thaire threte;
With him was non that to him longed.
Many a strok thei of him fonged,
Many a body he cleff also,
And many made he hedles ther-to.
THeseus was a kyng of Grece,
In euery syde Ector he sece
Alle with Gregeis stoute;
He bad him: "of that presse go oute;"
He bad him with wordes hende:
'I warne the as thi ffrende,—
That the mys-falle non euel hap,'—
"Ne that he fel In that trap,
It were a los to alle that were,
Ȝiff that þat knyȝht mys-ffere."
¶ Ector him thonked with mylde mode,
For he was kyng curteis and gode,
He thonked him of his gode wille;
Ector loked his men tille,
He saw the kyng Menelaus
And the kyng Thelamanyus
A-semble to Palodomas,
That in the prese fer fro him was;
He herde mochel noyse & cry,
Ector wiste wel ther-by,
Polydomas was feld and taken;
He stroke his stede ouer the laken,
Er he come ther, wold he not lette.
With the Gregeis wel sone he mette,
Polidomas thei were a-boute,
He ȝaff hem many a sore cloute.
¶ He sclow ffyfftyMS. ffyffty. with-Inne a throwe,
He ffelde hem ded as foules of snowe;
Thei ffled away that Power hadde,
For fere of him thei were al madde;
¶ Polidomas thei lete quyte go,
Off his takyng schope hem gret wo.
THen come the kyng Episcrepus
With alle his men, and Menelaus,—
Thelamonius before is named,—
Alle her men thei haue a-samed;
With harde strokes thei hem assayled,
The Troyens ther her myght fayled;
The saut was hard and so dredful,
The Troyens saw it was nedful:
For then thei fle and lefft the feld,
Or elles be dede ther vndir scheld.
¶ Then anon with-oute dwellyng
Thei turned a-way alle fleyng,
Thei ne myght with-stonde that sauȝt.
Ector him-self a-ȝeyn hem fauȝt;
Hic Ector fecit magnum bellumMS. This line in black, not in red; in the right corner, not in the middle; very small..
The Gregeis cam thenne enviroun,
¶ Ector ffauȝt as [a] lyoun,
Alle the hepe to him a-croched.
For ther was non that him aproched,
For who-so come with-Inne his swerde,
Sodan deth was his werde.
Off alle the Gregeis that pursued first
Was non so bold, that ones durst
Ones opon him hondes lay;
Alle his men were fled a-way;
¶ Thei hadde sclayn his stede him vnder.
I dar wel say: he sclow an hundred,
He reffte many bothe legges and thies,
Hed and schuldres, armes & knees;
Ther lay aboute him hondes & knokeles
As thikke as any honysocles,
That In somer stondes In grene medes;
Many a wyff made he wedewes,
Many a lady lordles;
He fauȝt with more and eke with les,
¶ But he was euere liche ffresche.
Alle at ones thei on him thresche,
Dartes kest and put with speres,
But Ector euere his bodi weres;
Was non so bold, durst come him nere,
The whiles he myght his armes stere.
FAls Gregeis, to ȝow I speke:
If ȝe ben ought, now ȝow a-wreke!
Now may ȝe ȝoure strengthe kythe
On him that greues ȝow offte sithe!
He is on fote, his stede is sclayn,
On fote he wil not fle aȝeyn,
For al the gold of Galilee
He wol not ffro ȝow fflee.
Ȝe ben aboute him ten thousand,
How may ȝe for schame lete him stand?
A-ȝeyn ȝow alle on creature!
Hit is ȝowre schame, ȝe lete him endure!
¶ Ȝe swore his deth at Thenedoun,
Now is he amonges ȝow gon,
Fyghtyng amonges ȝow alle;
I pray god, that ȝow foule falle,
That may not don vnto him on!
Gret schame is, if he thus gon!
¶ Alas Achilles, that wicked dede,
That sclow himMS. him very small over line. so in vnmanhede!
It was certes non honour,
But reproue and gret clamour,
That ten thosand myȝt him not falle,
Ther he stode amonges hem alle.
¶ The Troyens were fro Ector fled,
His bretheren faste afftir him gred,
Among her men faste him sought,
But thei con fynde him nought.
A-mong the Gregeys thei him fond
Be-set with mo then .x. thousand,
That wold him take or elles qwelle;
But Alle thei myght him not felle.
¶ A-mong Gregeys the prese thei brake,
Many an hed ther gan thei crake;
His on brother Damaderoun
Rode to a duk Polirasoun,
That rod on a stede mechel & strong;
Damaderoun vnto him sprong,
He ȝaff the duk a cruste of brede,
That he fel doun and lefft his stede.
Damaderoun was not ydel,
He toke the stede by the brydel,
Ther-with faste he him spede,
And to Ector he him ledde.
ECtor lepe on his stede ronke,
And seyde: 'brother, I can the thonke.'
Dephebus come to that saut
With alle the men him was be-taut,
With arwes brode, bowe and qwyuere;
With him come many a man delyuereMS. & delyuere..
To that saut thei were wel rakel,
Eche man made redi his takel,
Bende her bowes and set her flone;
Among the Gregeis thei gert hem gone.
¶ Many a Gregey was euel atyred,
With brodeMS. browe. arwes al to-viredMS. alto vired.;
Thei wounded hem with arwes brode.
The Troyens then forth rode
With gret comforth vnto that fyght,
That wel-ney before were discomfyght.
¶ Dephebus wounded kyng Thentan
In his visage, that it wex wan;
Dephebus wounded him so sore,
That he ther-on thought euere-more.
¶ Whyntelle and kyng Moderne
Theseus kyng sey fro ferre,
Woundyng Troyens and sore bete,
And many on her lyff lete;
Bothe thei swore with grete stryff,
Thei wolde reue Theseus his lyff.
The ton rod to him with maltalent,
That of his hors doun he went;
He fel doun, and thei him toke,
Thei thoght him scle with grymly loke.
But Ector bad: "thei schold late be,"—
'Lete him go qwite he dede for me!'
¶ Hic Cassibalanus Filius Regis Troiani occisus est.
Theseus was neuere so glad,
As when Ector his men bad;
He thonked him an hundred sithe,
To his Gregeis he rode blyue.
T has been washed out, but is distinctly legible.THen come thedir kyng Thoas,
I-armed brightMS. br̓ight. as any glas;
Fyue thousande knyghtes com with him wyght
Off bolde Gregeis In-to that ffyght,
With sword and spere, gauelok and staff.
Many a strok Gregeis ther ȝaff;
Thoas smot Cassibalanes,
That he fel doun opon the danes.
¶ Ector was [right] sori than,
When he sei ded Cassibalan;
He was his brother borne abast,
He saw him lye & had lost his tast.
Might Ector Thoas haue reched,
Schuld neuere man haue him teched,
Not Ypocras with alle his scleyght;
But Thoas fledeMS. felde. with al his [myght].
Ector sorow myght no man sclekke,
He smot In-two many a nekke.
¶ Then come Nestor with thousandes ffyue,—
As faste as he myȝt dryue,—
Off hardi knyȝtes gode and bolde;
Amonges hem alle was non suche holde,
HisMS. He is. hore for elde waxen was gray;
But he come thedur In good aray.
¶ Aȝeyn him come kyng Esdras,
Kyng Philon, and ReconitasMS. reconitas, r quite dis|tinct, but cp. l. 5511, and the note on l. 530 (p. 16).;
When thei to-gedur were then met,
Many on was to grounde bet,
Thei died faste on bothe sydes;
But Philon thenne a-mong hem rides
With his swerd In honde drawen,
Many Gregeis did he on dawen.
The Gregeis vmbikest his cart
With many a knyȝt hardi and smart,
Thei toke Philon, his helm vnlased,
The gold was of his cart defased
With grete strokes set ther-on,
Thei hasted faste to scle Philon.
¶ IecomytasI quite distinct in MS., but cf. l. 5498. was ful of wo,
That Philon scholde with Gregeis go;
He saith: 'Esdras, for him vs wroght!
How thei of Grece—ne sese thow noght—
Haue take Philon and led a-way?
Helpe we him, if that we may!'
¶ The Troyens thanne at here callyng
Among Gregeis made gret hurlyng,
Thei delt strokes for her frendes
And refft Philon of her bendes.
EVeas come with alle his folk,
With spere and swerd and gauelok,
With alle his knyȝtes and his men,
And her leder, duke Eufren.
¶ Ayax rode to Eueas,
And he to him a gret pas,
As harde as thei may ride;
Wolde nother of hem lenger abide.
Thei stroke to-gedir with so gret myght,
That bothe vpon here pol lyght.
¶ Ector toke to Eueas hede,
And saw he hadde lorn his stede;
He rod to him faste prikande
With his drawen swerd in hande,
He dede Eueas his swerd take,
And sclow the Gregeis for Ayax sake.
Here armes vayled not an hoppe,
He smot In-two bothe chanel and choppe;
He sclow an hundrid then and mo,
Thei were so ferd, that alle tho
Be-gan bacward to fle,
Thei durst not ones with eye him se.
¶ Ayax thoght, he was be-swyked,
When his men a-way priked;
In his hert hadde he gret wo,
He wiste not what for to do;
He loked on bak toward here stale.
So mery was neuere Nightyngale
Syngand In no hasel-crop,
Ne no child playing with his topMS. thop.,
As Ayax was that ilke tyde,
When he hadde loked him be-syde:
¶ He saw be-hynde him stondyng right
A ffresche Gregey, that was neuere aflyght
Out of that stede, toward that fyght
With twenti thousand rekened aryght;
Ther was the flour of chiualrye
Off Grece certes and Thesalye.
Vnto that batayle come thei hard
With baneres brode and here standard;
Ayax schewed his men that sight
And bad hem for schame fyght.
THe kyng come then of Cassedone,
To helpe Ayax with-oute essoyne;
He broght with him to that poyne
Off gode knyghtes thousandes tweyne.
¶ The same tyme come thedur also
With bothe her ostes kynges two,
With hem come thousandes seuene;
Ȝet leffte be-hynde twyes eleuene
That al the day thenne hadde rest;
Off hem of Grece were thei the best.
¶ Then were the Troyens wel weri,
Thei myght notMS. now. for weri hem steri,
Thei were so for-fouȝten, that hem was wo;
Thei thoght alle aweyward go.
¶ But Paris come thenne with his tropelMS. torpel.,
With alle his knyghtes hardi and fel.
Kyng Philicais Ector a-vised,
How he Gregeis sclow & bursed;
He rode to him with tene & hate,
To dere Ector come he to late;
To Ector with his spere he soughte,
But Philicais that strok boughte,
Ector rod to him aȝeyn
And smot him thorow the bak and brayn,
That he neuere afftir grunt;
He was ded afftir that dunt.
THen come [to] the batayle kyng HumereMS. humore, but cf. ll. 5705, 5709, 5718, 11391.
With many a cheld and brod banere,
With alle his knyȝtes, and Vlixes
That alle that day hadde rest in pes,
So did the kyng sir Humelyne;
With him come many dredful hyne.
Kyng Pollidari and Macheroun,
With alle his ost Agamenoun,
¶ The kyng of Cypre, kyng Rody,
Come with many a man þat was mody;
To ffyght come kyng Henes,
With alle his men Philotenes,
¶ Kyng Hencus and many other,
Diodemes with his brother,—
Al that day stode as oxe in stalle,—
Now be thei comen to batayle alle.
Agamenon he was the laste;
Now ben thei alle to batayle paste.
But Ector helpe, the Troyens ben spilt—
I telle hem,—elles alle be kylt,
But doughti Ector hem rescowe;
Many of her bakkes now schal bowe,
For sixti thousand ther ben or moMS. or now mo.
Off ffresche Gregeis to batayle ago.
PAris smot the kyng of Frese,
With alle his mayles he gan lese;
He smot him with a spere off beche,
That he fel doun with-oute speche.
Ther was del with-oute play,
Mechel cry and weylaway,
The Gregeis were for him ful wo;
Vlixes thrette Paris to sclo—
The kyng of Frese was his cosyn,
He was of Vlixes kyn,—
He rode to him with gret envye,
To take on Paris Maystrye:
He sclow his hors, he fel to grounde,
That was better than an hundrid pounde.
¶ Troyle saw Paris feld,
In poynt of dethe, or elles him ȝeld;
In his front he him smot,
The blod start out fot hot,
He set on him a foule seme;
By his face ran doun the strem
Off rede blode, but not-for-that
Vlixes In his sadel sat,
Of his hors fel he not doun,
He smot to Troyle with gret randoun,
And In his visage he him smyt,
A wicked strok—he him hit.
Ector rode euere to and fro,
He made Gregeis blak and blo;
Alle that day aboute he rode
Fro ost to ost, he neuere abode;
He loked to his owne eschele,
He saw the Gregeis with him dele,
¶ He saw hem dreuen out of that place.
Ector seyde tho: 'Alace!'
Al that day hadde thei ther ben,
Might thei her mayster not sen,
Out of the feld gan thei hem dresse,
Thei hadde so fouȝten, thei were mygh[t]les.
Whether he were wroth, myght no man aske;
He rode to hem bothe wode & thraske,
He spak to hem wordes mylde:
'Louely lordes, god it schilde,
Fer to ffle; what haue ȝe thoght?
Haue ȝe for-ȝete, ne thenke ȝe noght,
What schame the Gregeis haue ȝow don?
Helpes now alle quyk & sounMS. som.,
Turnes aȝeyn boldely with me!
I schal ȝow venge, so mote I the!
I schal a-saye—be seynt Loye,—
Thei nede neuere so moche Ioye.'
And whan here lord was to hem come,
Thei wende wel rather to be for-nome,
Thei swore to him that—so helpe hem god—
Thei schal neuere [fle] for euene ne for od.
ECtor brew the Gregeys bale,
He ledde his men doun by a vale
A-gayn quayntly to the batayle;
Thei be-gan the Gregeis to assayle;
To þe Gregeis ffresche and so quykly,
That thei died thanne thikly;
For Ector thenne euere hem to dethe wounded,
With-outen ende he hem confounded.
Thoas, that sclow Cassibalan,
Among the TroyensMS. gregeis. he rode and ran,
As hundes doth vpon his pray,
He did gret harm opon hem that day.
¶ Qwyntelyne hadde him aspied,
Loude to his bretheren he cried:
'That is the theff, oure brother sclow,
Scle him anon amonges ȝow now!
Let him not go now al quyt
With-oute dethe or som dispyt!'
¶ Thei rod alle to kyng Thoas,
Hem was ful loth to lete him pas;
Thei bare him doun, his swerd was broken,
As he amonges hem was loken;
His hed was bare, his helme was rached,
Thei scholde for euere him haue tached,
Ne hadde ben duk Menescene;
He halp him, and that was wel y-sene:
¶ He smot Qwyntelyne opon the hat,
His hors bak he loste with that,
Aboute Thoas for he was most;
HeMS. A. felde another with-oute bost.
PAris than be-gan to hale
A strong arwe vp to the vale,
To Menescen he drow that flot,
In-myddis his ribbes wel sore he smot.
Duk Menescen therfore ne lefft,
Til he hadde Thoas fro hem reff[t],
With many woundes and many a clyt
Ther the bretheres hadde him hyt.
¶ Kyng Humere was almost wode,
That Ector spilt so moche blode;
¶ Hic venit Priamus Rex ad prelium.
He cleff Gregeis as men do swyn,
He made of hem gret moryn.
¶ HumeresMS. Humer. bowe was redy bent,
Him hadde ben better, it hadde ben brent;
A scharp Arwe ther-Inne he set
And so to Ector he hit schet,
He hitte him euene In his visage;
But Ector quyt him his wage,
He hitte him on his helme aboue,
Hit roff to-gederes as a gloue;
The strok ȝede to his herte colke,
Humere fel doun a-monges his folke,
He bente neuere affter arblast ne bowe,
To schete ouer hilles ne ouer lowe.
¶ The Gregeis hadde gret angryng,
That thei myght not himMS. hem. to dethe bryng,
With her men so foule he ferd;
Thei hadde him offt amonges hem spered,
Ther were knyȝtes aboute him kene
Hundres mo then ffyfftene;
But he was not of hem abast,
Opon him-selff mechel he trast,
To make him way who-so nolde,
And wende away euere whan he wolde.
ECtor lefft ffyghtyng al to-gedur
And wente hom to his fadur,
And bad: "he scholde with-oute distaunce
Come with alle his puruyaunce,
That were leff[t] with-Inne the walles."
Priamus then his men calles,
He brought thre thousand fresch & rested,
Among the Gregeis In thei thrested;
Thei sclow ther many a gret sire,
When thei were comen In that toptyre.
Ayax rod to Ector fast,
That bothe his speres In-sonder brast,
Ther hors fel doun and thei ȝede ouer,
Bothe were besy up to couer.
¶ Menelaus sclow that tyde
AnMS. And. Emerayl on Troyens syde;
Ector brother Celydonias
Sclow the kynges sone Thoas;
His half-brother Madoun of Clare
Smot kyng Ced opon the bare,
He smot him so opon the snoute,
That bothe his eyen wenten oute.
¶ His other half-brother, Sir Sadolle,
A riche Gregay smot In that soille,
That his harneis & his haterell
Opon the grounde al blody fell.
Another of hem, Margaritoun,
Felde the while sir Thelamoun;
But Thelaman at that Iustyng
Made the blode out of him spryng.
¶ Famel bare Procenor doune,
He hitte him sore vpon the croune.
¶ Duglas ran to Menescen
With gret envye and Mechel ten,
He hitte him with a stalworthe spere,
But he myȝt him not doun bere;
Menescen smot a-ȝein Duglas
With his swerd In-myddes the fas,—
His viser vayled not worth a pese,—
He wounded him in-myddes the nese.
¶ Diamor saw his brother blede,
He thoght quyte Menescen his mede,
He smot him vndir his hors bely;
Then he was ferd, hit was no ferly:
For then come the brother thridde;
Menescen hadde than mys-be-tydde,
Ne hadde Tentan come to his socouryng,
He hadde be brouȝt to his endyng.
¶ Menescen was feld, but op he ros,
He faught faste aȝeyn his fos,
He fauȝt aȝeyn hem alle thre,
But myght it not so longe be,
For on his scheld was many an hole,
He myȝt not longe that trauayle thole.
¶ Tentan saw his grete myscheue,
He was In poynt of euel preue,
Menescen myght was almost wast,
Tentan rod to him In hast
And halp Manascen, that fauȝt sore,
Aȝeyn Duglas and Diamore.
ECtor saw, that Tentan was
Comen to helpe a-ȝeyn Duglas,
He thought hem bothe to encombre;
Him hadde ben better In-myddes Humbre,
Then he hadde it at his wille,
Thei myȝt haue rongen here soule-knylle.
¶ Ector was with him ful wroth;
Thei hadde dyed for-sothe both,
Ne hadde y-come Ayax;
And In his hond he brouȝt an ax,
The schafft was bounden, long was the bit,
Many a strok smot he ther-myt.
¶ A Thousand knyghtes alle at ones
Fel on Ector as bryddes in gronesMS. groues (?).,
To saue Menescen and kyng Tentan;
For that sauyng died many a man.
¶ Ector him hew as fflesch to pot,
The Gregeis died as schep In rot.
¶ Hic Ector occidit Regem Merionem.
He was Iustice, deth was her dome,
Ector made aboute him rome,
Then fel gret encombraunce
For Tentan kyng delyueraunce.
¶ The Gregeis turned and fro him fledde,
Thei were so sore of him aferde,
Thei myght no-thyng a-ȝeyn him stonde;
He sclow that tyme a ful thousande.
MerionCp. l. 4997 sqq., where his name is Mennon. kyng come In his way,
Ector him smyte he thoughte asay,
For he bar Patrodus him fro,
His lyff he dede ther for-go.
ECtor saw, that it was he,
He swor by his godis dygnite:
"He schuld neuere afftir him chide,
He schal a-bye his foule Pride!"
'Say, thow fals faytour,
Thow losenger, thow fals traytour!
Now is comen thin endyng-day,
Thow that bar Patrodus a-way!'
He rod to him and made him stoupe,
He bar him ouer his hors croupe.
¶ Ector lyght a-doun In hy
And smot his hed fro the body;
He saw his armes delytable,
Fair, and clene, and amyable,
Ector stod and hem vndid,—
Sixti thousand, & he In-myd
Duk Menescen ther-of was war,
How he Merioun dispoyled thar;
He rode to him and smot him depe,—
For Ector toke to him no kepe,—
With a spere he him trauersed,
That alle his armes thorow he persed;
He ȝaff Ector an hidous sore,
Menescen fley ther-fore,
He nolde not Ector longe abyde,
Away he gan faste ryde.
ECtor wiste him hurt he feled,
He rod on-syde and him keled;
So wisly his wounde he bond,
That no blode ther-of wonde.
He rode a-ȝeyn to that baret,
And many a man to dethe he bet.
¶ For Dares telles In his bokes,
As man may se that ther-In lokes:
Or euere he belan affter the wounde,
He sclow of knyȝtes In a stounde
Passyng mo than ten hunder;
Off man was neuere so moche wounder.
¶ The Gregeis were so for-dalled,
So for-fouȝten, and so for-palled,
Thei hadde no wil hem to defende,
To dye echon ful wel thei wende.
The Gregeis flow vnto here tentis,
Mochel sorwe and wo thei hentes,
For Troyens hem folwed thorow tent & hale
And bare a-wey harneys and male.
¶ Thei robbed clene al that thei founde
And sente To Troye many fair sonde
Off gold, siluer, & riche druri,
That thei fond In coffres and ty;
Thei leffte ther nother pot ne panne,
Dische ne dobler, cuppe ne kanne,
Pece ne Maser, ne riche Mesures,
Thei fond ther wel riche armures;
¶ Thei myght onethes a-wey wagge
With siluer and gold, walet & bagge,
¶ Hic Greci ffugerunt Ectorem.
With riche gold and other vessel,
A-wey thei bere hit euerydel.
Thei sette ffir In schip and fflune;
The Gregeis made a rewful dune.
That day the Troyens were glad,
Lord! the Ioye that thei mad!
¶ But Ector was that day vnblessed,
Off grace certes that day he myssed,
He myght that day the batayl haue ent
And alle the Gregeis clene haue schent,
That thei schulde neuere haue passed the see
With lyff ne lym to here contre;
But destene, that fortune ledes,
When he beholdis that men best spedis
With sicur traist of wel spedyng,
He makes hem leue somtyme a thyng
That he may haue at his wille,
That he schal neuere come ther-tille.
ME rewes of Ector namely,
That myght that day wel sicurly
Haue sclayn alle his enemys,
And hem scomfited at [d]euys,
And al on-hapMS. op hap. haue put a-way
Fro him and his, euere and ay;
For I haue herd offte say,
That he that wil not whan he may,
When he wolde, he getis it noght,
Then hit were ful faire be-sought,
Som tyme, as good hap nere,
That comes not ones In seuene ȝere.
¶ Ector forsoke this grace also,
Ne myght he neuere come ther-to;
But fortune is fficul and frele,¶ ExemplaThe sign in blue, the word in red paint, in MS. in the left margin..
He is a fole that hath hir lele;
Many a body hath sche a-mayed
And many a man hath sche be-trayed.
I holde it certes a gret folye
To truste on here trecherie,
For sche is wonder variable,
Sche was neuere to no man stable;
The man that sche somtyme most likes,
Alther-sonnest sche be-swykes.
¶ With Alisaunder how dede sche,¶ AlixanderThe signs in blue, the words in red paint..
Whan he was most In maieste?
Al this world did sche him wynne,
And alle the kynges that were ther-Inne;
Sche hated him and thoght tresoun,
And ȝaff him drynke foule poysoun;
And sche that kyng loued mechel,
Loke, how fals sche is and ffykel!
¶ Iulius Cesar, that so was douted,¶ Julius CesarThe signs in blue, the words in red paint..
That al the world to him louted,—
When he his trust opon hir hadde,
Sche sclow him foule with a ladde.
¶ How did sche sithen with kyng Arthure?¶ ArthureThe signs in blue, the words in red paint..
Sche was to him bothe sicur and sure,
Sche made him wynne In-to his hand
Northway, Wales, and Scotland,
Irlond, Denmark, and al Burgoyne,
And ouercome hem of Saxsoygne,
Bretayne, Gaskoyne, and al Fraunce,
And al hath thorow hir gode chaunce;
Sche halpe him wel with Real & Rok,
And at the Castel of Bestok,
¶ When he fauȝt with douȝti Frolle,
Ther he smot on-two his polle.
And the Romayce senatore,
Tyberius, kyng of gret valoure,
Thorow here sclow he Romayns.
Som-tyme sche loues, & somtyme refrayns:
Off the kyng then sche filled,
Wel foule then the knyȝt sche spilled,
His sustersone sche made his bane,
When sche hadde a-ȝeyn him tane.
¶ Thus hath sche do with many mo,
For certeyn sothe with alle tho
That euere sche loued or euere schal;
Sche turnes & trendeles as doth a bal.
¶ With Ector certes fel hit right so:
He myght neuere afftir come ther-to,
That he that day myght haue don;
Fortune turned fro him thus son,
For he that day his hap refused;
He was afftir therfore arused.
AS he rode chasynge hem of Grece,
And myght haue hewen hem to pece,
And saued him fro alle perel
That him and his ther-afftir fel,
He met aȝeyn him comyng right
His Aunte sone, that Ayax hight.
In the tyme of Lamedon
His Aunte was rauysched with Thelamon;
He held here longe In payrement
And gat sir Ayax verament.
He knewe Ector, and Ector him,
He hadde elles for-gon his beste lym.
¶ Ector seyde: 'my dere cosyn,
Come to Troye and se thi kyn:
Kyng Priamus, that is thin em,
And his Baronage, and his barnetem.
Gret worschepe—so god me saue!—
Shaltow In Troye amo[n]ges hem haue.'
¶ Hic Ector concedit Ayax [sic] peticionem suam.
Ther-with-al seyde Ayax: 'nay!
But, dere Cosyn, I the pray,—
As thow me louest and art curtais,—
No more harme do thes Gregeis!
But let hem be this day in pes,
And bid thin men that thei wol ces!'
¶ Ector thanne with mochel vnsele
Graunted his askyng euery dele:
Ector bar a litel ruet,
Vnto his mouth his horn he set,
Twyes or thries ther-In he blew;
Wo were his men, when thei hit knewe,
Thei leff[t] her chase and schippis brennyng,
And come to him faste rennyng
With sorwe & kare and mochel wo,
That thei ne myght the Gregeis sclo.
¶ Thei rode the Cite than tille,
And sikurly this was the skille,
The victorie that thei for-ȝede
And myght neuere afftir so wel spede;
Ne hadde he graunted Ayax prayere,
Schuld neuere Gregeis hadde powere,
Off he were comen of his blod,
That euere he wolde be so wod.
TRoyens hadde here ȝates stoken,
With barre and bolt wel y-loken,
Wel sekur arre thei wel kept,
That, when men were In bedde and sclept,
The Gregeis scholde hem not brest
And wake hem so of her rest.
In here bed sclept thei not longe,
The Troyens, when the day spronge,
Were Armed alle and redy dight,
To wende aȝeyn to that fyght.
But Gregeis hadde ther-to no nede,
Thei sent to Troye & asked and bede,
If that her consail wolde hit loke,
Treus to haue an .viij. woke.
¶ Priamus and his consayl
Graunted the treus with-oute fayle,
And swor to holde hit stable and ferme
The treus in pes lastyng the terme.
Gregeis were fayn of that grauntyng,
For thei hadde nede of soiornyng;
When thei hadde treuse, thei sought the feld,
Ther thei hadde foughten; thei be-held
The bodyesMS. boydies. that ther ded lay,
That hadde be sclayn In fight that day;
Ther come of hem a foul sauour
And smot to hem a gret rancour.
But thei did wele and wrought wisly
Off the bodyes that were grisly,
Thei wroght best to here be-houe,
Tho that thei wolde thei toke and groue,
And alle the other with fyr thei brent;
Many a man his frend be-ment.
AChilles made both euen & morwe
For Patrodus wel mochel sorwe,
But it was longe, or his del sclaked;
A riche tombe for him thei maked,
And layde ther-on that cors present
With gret wepe and waymentThe last four letters added by another hand; the careless copyist saw the rhyme-words of the next lines and wrote way only..
Thei made also of Marbul gray
Another tombe, ther-on to lay
¶ The doughti kyng Prothesalye,
That Ector sclow In his folye;
With gret worschepe and reuerence
Thei made aboute him gret dispence.
¶ And thei of Troye that wounded wore,
Thei heled woundes lesse and more,
The while the trewe be-twene hem last,
Thei toke medecyn and heled hem fast;
By that the treus were al gon,
Thei were amended euerychon.
¶ But Priamus myght not drynke ne ete,
For he myght not for-gete
Off his sone Cassibalane,
He cursed faste that was his bane;
He dede make a tombe I-wys
In the temple of Veneris,
Crafftly coruen and wel endentMS. ed inserted after endent, very dim and indistinct, as if blotted out at once after writing.,
And layd him In that monument
With carful herte and sore mornyng;
Hit refft him many a nyghtes sclepyng.
THe terme is gon now of treus,
Some it likes and some it reus;
Thei ben bothe y-dyght In feld & toun
With helm and scheld and haberioun,
To the fight a-ȝeyn to fare;
Off bothe parties thei ben thare.
Agamenon was gretly carked
In his office, his men he ȝarked
Euerychon vnto that fyght,
Thei ben alle armed & redy dight.
¶ The ffirst batayle lad Achilles,
The secunde Diodemes,
Menelaus lad the thridde
With many douȝti men him mydde,
The furthe batayle lad Menesenes
That was lord of riche Athenes,
And that other he wel ordeyned
And with his goddis he hem sayned,
And bad hem gon In here name,
Here foos to schenschip and to schame.
ECtor was besy and tentyff,
To ordeyne hise, to saue her lyff:
The furst batayle In kepyng hadde
Doughti Troyle, so Ector badde;
In alle that other gouernayle
Ordeyned he, as most myght avayle.
With his goddis he hem merked,
And alle his men he forward ferked
Out of the toun toward that place,
Ther thei scholde fight with sword & mace.
The Gregeis were with-oute the dikes,
With swerd and staff [&] with pikes;
Achilles led the formast warde,
As is als it were a lyparde.
Ayther of hem knewe other wele;
Thei rodeMS. Theirode. to-gyder as men vnsele,
Thei were bothe mychel and strong of myȝt;
Thei rod to-gederes at all riȝt
With kene speres and wel y-grounde,
That bothe thei fel on the londe.
But Ector start vp anon
And to his sadel he gan gon,
¶ Ector lepe on his hors bak,
He hadde vertues with-oute lak;
He sclow of the Gregeis many a score,
As he hadde ydon before,
He woundes and sles & maymes many,
Vnnethes he leues stondyng any
In any stide ther he may mete;
Thei caste at him and arwes schete,
A thousand men on him smyte,
But sword on him wol non bite:
Fro stide to stide aboute he wynces,
He slees kynges, dukes, & princes;
Thei ffle fro him as ffox to hole,
No man may his strokes thole;
He is so wete with blode of men,
That no man may his armes ken.
AChilles ros vp afftirward,
He toke his hors & lepe vpward,
To hem of Troye gan he gange,
Him thoght gret schame he lay so lange;
Among Troiens did he gret harm,
He wounded hem in body and arm,
He ran amonges hem as a roo,
He sclow manye & wounded moo,
He hurt hem som & nolde not spare.
As he rod thus, he was ware
How E tor ferde with his Gregeis,
He woundedMS. wonuded. hem and sclow al weys;
¶ He thoght he wold efft with him Iuste,
He hadde to Ector a ful gret luste.
But Ector ȝaff him suche a but,
And fro his hors Ector him put,
That he fel to the grounde as a cat,
Wel euen vpon his ketil-hat.
¶ Ector wolde his hors haue sesed,
But so fele men aboute him presed,
Ther were so many his hors to defende,
That Ector myght not come ther hende.
¶ Achilles ros and gret dele made,
For he his hors lorn hadde;
His men his stede to him broght,
Ne hadde thei y-be, he ne hadde him noght;
He taketh him and on him lepes,
And sprong aȝein among the hepes
¶ Hic Ector et Achilles pugnauerunt.
Off his Gregeis, ther Ector stode;
Fauȝt so faste, that stremes of blode
Ran in forwes ther of leyes,
Many a man be-fore him dyes.
With alle the myght that euere he wan
Achilles smot to Ector than,
With bothe his handes, with sword naked,
He smot Ector, that his hed craked,
That with the strok Ector enchyned;
But Ector not his stiropes tyned,
Noght In his sadel ones Icched,
Noght for that ones he quycched.
¶ His hert gret angur surmounted,
That Achilles was remounted,
And suche a strok sithen him ȝaue;
He thoght he scholde another haue:
He turned his hors wel smartly
And smot to him wel hertly,
He smot him on his hed on hy,
The blod ran doun by his eye;
He brak his helm and his hed als,
The stremes of blode ran by his hals.
¶ Ayther on other began to hewe,
Here strong myght on other to schewe;
A delful fight was ther by-gonne,
Hadde thei hadde rome, thei hadde not belonne,
Vnto thei bothe, or that on,
Hadde ben hewed as fflesche and bon;
Hadde no man comen hem be-twene,
Then scholde men the better haue sene.
But then come thedur Diodemes
And saw that no man myght hem ces;
With alle his men he neuere bylynned,
Til he hadde hem a-twynnedMS. at twynned..
Certes I holde he did synne,
That he hem parted so atwynne,
Vnto the ton hadde the gre,
When thei were bothe In her pouste,
And that men myght haue sey in doute,
Whether scholde of hem to other loute.
¶ But Diomedes was ful sicur,
Hadde he Achilles leff[t] In that beker,
That he scholde haue had no pouste,
Ne qwik with lyff ne grace hadde be.
THen come thedur ridyng Troyle,
A-mong Gregeis he gan to royle,
When he com, he did meruayles.
Diomedes him assayles,
And Troylus him assayled also,
Litel loue was be-twene hem two;
Thei reden to-gedur with speres so faste,
That bothe were doun of hors caste;
Vnto Troyle faste he ȝede,
Ther he sat opon his stede.
¶ He smot to Troyle opon his fote,
But Troylus did ther-In bote,
He smot his stede thorow the haunche,
He myght no more afftir launche;
His stede fel doun, and he him by,
Thei fauȝt to-geder with envy,
But thei were horsed a-ȝeyn vp bothe;
Not-for-thi thei were so wrothe,
That eyther of hem to other sought,
When thei were on horse broght;
Many a strok was be-twene hem cast,
But Diomedes atte last
Troylus toke with gret violence;
But many of Troye In his defence
¶ Hic Ector occidit Beotem & Archilogum.
At that tyme ful smartly stryues
In gret aventure and drede of here lyues,
And delyuered Troyle out of his hand,
Thei come strikand on the sond.
¶ To that batayle come Menelaus,
Kyng Henes, and Theseus;
Aȝeyn hem come of Troye Paris
With other kynges and alle his.
At that batayle died mechel folk,
Eche stede stod ful, bothe plasch & polk,
Of mennes blode that died there.
Ful sicurly Ector lefft neuere
To sclo Gregeis, and hem confounde,
Thei fled fro him as hares fro the hounde.
That saw an hardy newe-made knyȝt
Off hem of Grece, Boetes hyȝt,
That no man myght make Ector leue;
This Boetes thoght, he wolde that reue
With a spere stalworthe and towe,
But [Ector] at that strok lowe
And seyde to him: 'what hastow don?
Wolde thow wynne on me thi schon?'
He ȝaff no more of his smytyng
Then of a fflyes bytyng,
But he smot him aȝeyn so sore,
That fro his heued doun to his schore
He cleue him doun by the chyn,
As it hadde ben a lard swyn;
¶ He sent his stede Into his In.
Archilogus was of his kyn;
When he his cosyn ded saw,
Him lyked noght with Ector plaw,
He thoght him venge, if he moght,
He drank ful ille, and that was noght;
Him hadde ben better, he hadde ben than,
When he Ector smyte be-gan,
For him saued not his riche croun;
He carf a-two bothe flesche and bon,
He culpunte himh altered from b in MS. as heMS. here. were an ele,
. . . . .No gap in MS.
¶ He smote euen In-two his myddel
Ryght euen at his gerdul,
That half fel doun, and half sat stille,
His armes myght not do ther-tille.
Hit was a wondir sight to se,
When þe hors be-gan to fle,
A-mong the prese whan he ran,
Op-on his bak with half a man.
PRocenor was that kynges Cosyn;
When he saw his witer-wyn
Hadde himMS. by. sclawe, sore him rewed,
For-sothe ther-fore his bale he brewed,—
The body was ther freli kut,—
And smot to Ector so ful butb altered from h in MS.,—
He rode to him euen sydilyng—
Vn-til grounde he him bryng;
He smot him euene vndir the cheke,
That he made him the ground to seke.
Off him was not Ector perceyued,
He was of him wel sore disceyued;
¶ Opon his hors lepe tite Ector,
He ouer-toke kyng Procenor,
He set a strok vpon his heued,
That he ete no more bred,
He cleff him euene in two parties;
On eyther syde his hors he lyes,
As it hadde ben two clouen stikkes,
Or of a swyn two clouen flikkes.
Hic Ector occidit Procenorem RegemThis line in red paint ought to be the head-line, cp. special note. The head-line is erased..
AChilles saw his strokes echon,
In his herte made he gret mon,
Procenor was of his lynage,
A riche kyng of gret parage;
He saw alle dye, bothe duk and kyng,
That come or ȝede In Ector goyng.
¶ Achilles seyde: 'if he lyue longe,
Here is non of vs so stronge,
That euere schal wynne fro him lyueMS. on lyue.;
Ther bees sat neuere so thikke on hyue,
Ne corn In lond isMS. In his lond. thikker sawen,
That he ne scles oure men and ouer-throwen.'
¶ Achilles maketh alle his men redy,
And kynges to of his contrey,
And seide: 'se ȝeMS. ȝe se. not, lordynges,
How Ector here to dethe brynges
Alle that cometh vndir his hand?
I se no manMS. noman. his strok with-stand!
If he laste longe In his outrage,
He sclees vs alle bothe lord and page.
¶ But of this world if we mowe
Deliuere him! but I not howe:
Iff we myght be so quaynte and scly,
That we vn-armed come him by.
For iff he take vntil vs hede,
I wot wel we schal neuere spede;
Go we alle vpon a ffrusche,
Opon the erthe we schal him crusche,
We schal him scle and al to-colpen;
But we do thus, we ben not holpen.'
¶ Thanne strok to Ector alle that rabel,
But he ȝaff nouȝt ther-of a babel,
For he was war of hem comyng
And of here malice and here thynkyng.
¶ Hic Achilles & alij Reges Grecorum ffugierunt.
Thei smot on him, as thei were wode,
But Ector euere here strokes stode,
He smot of heuedes with basenettis,
Ther is no bote, ther he his strok settis.
¶ Achilles fley with alle his ffrape,
He was ffayn that he myght scape,
He thoght wel longe he dwelled there,
He wolde haue ben he roght neuere where.
For Alle Achilles trecherie
Thei wolde not sen his ffisnamye,
But fled a-way to her tentis,
For many of hem ther her hed of-hentis;
¶ For Ector euere hem schased,
Helm and Coyffe he of-rased,
And sclow hem bothe ȝonge and olde,
As wolues don schep that ben In folde.
Hadde thei had dayes lyght,—
But sicurly it was nyght,—
That non of hem myght other chese;
Ne Ector wolde not his men lese,
¶ Affter his men he be-gan to blowe,
For non of hem myght other knowe;
And that fel faire for the Gregeis—
What-so-euere any man seis—
Thei hadde elles ben bounden In thral,
Or thei scholde haue dyed al.
¶ For witnes beres her-off Dares,
And Tites also with-oute les,
On ayther syde were thei heraudes,
In wham myȝt be no fraudes;
Thei were ther bothe euen & mo[r]ne.
Dares was of Troye borne,
Kyng Troyen and kyng Frigais,
Tites of Grece, and kyng Danais;
Thei were with hem euere In the feld,
Whan thei stode and whan thei fled.
So saith the noble Clerk Cuydo,
He fond her bokes bothe two
With-oute lesyng or variaunce
In siker proses and no romaunce,
And he translated wel and fyne
Bothe her bokes In-to Latyne,
Bothe of Gru and Troye langage;
Heuene be his heritage!
HIt was nyght, the sterres gan schyne,
The Gregeis made gret dele and dyne
For her ffrendes that were sclayn,
And was be-reued blode and brayn;
For her frendes that died that day
Ther was cry and weylawey.
Thei swore by god In firmament:
'If Ector lyue, we are alle y-schent;
Schal non of vs aȝeyn him pas,
Kyng ne knyȝt, more ne las.
Waried worth hem vs hedir broght!
For here we lese, and wynne noght;
Ȝit schal we lese and drye more
Oure lyues alle by goddis ore.'
¶ Agame[n]on herde that playnt,
He saw his men were alle ataynt,
For her frendes thei made care,
Thei seyde: "thei scholde alle to deth fare";
Thei cried and seyde euerychone:
"That he him-self sclow mo alone
Than alle that other of his parti";—
'Who may with-stonde suche An enemyMS. Anenemy.?
¶ It was neuere man ȝaffMS. thaff. suche strokes;
Off a man were mad of okes,
Off Marbil gray and grete stones,
And yren and stele were alle his bones,
He wolde hem al to-cleueMS. alto cleue.—
By him that made Adam and Eue!'
¶ Agamenon with care was cold,
He wiste neuere, how Gregeis to hold,
That thei a-ȝeyn to Grece ne ferde;
Whan he that playnt a-monges hem herde,
In his herte he then kest,
To sle Ector, how myght he best.
A-non he sende his sonde
To alle the kynges vpon that stronde,
As thei loued here lyues dere,
And prayed him in alle manere,
That thei wolde come for his loue alle
With-oute dwellyng In-to his halle.
¶ These lordes qwyk with-oute dwellyng
Come to him In that euenyng,
Thei come to his pauyloun,
Duk, prince and kynges with croun;
Thei set hem doun vpon the des,
Thei hoped wel with-oute les,
Whi that thei were afftir send;
Hit was for-sothe right, as thei wend.
AGamenon seide: 'lordyngis,
This man Ector to schame vs brynges,
Ther is of him gret noyse and cry,
Ȝe here it wel, and so do I;
Iff he lyue longe and goth forth thus,
He wol scle oure men and alle vs,
He schal not leue with-Inne two ȝere
Off vs lyuande that now is here;
Ȝe se wel alle, how he fares,
He chases vs as hound doth hares;
¶ Hic Greci tenuerunt consilium ad occidendum Ectorem.
How hath he smetyn thes kynges and schorne!
But he be ded, we ben alle lorne,
Off we be fele, and thei ffewe;
We schal neuere no maystrye schewe
Off hem of Troye, ne Troye wynne,
The while that he this world is Inne.
¶ Him-selff alone hem alle saues,
Kyng and knyȝt, sqwyeres and knaues,
And he vs alle him ones greues.
By him that In oure god leues!
But we scle him with som quayntise,
We schal neuere In other wyse
Off hem of Troye oure Iornay spede,
But we myght qwyte him his mede!'
NOw are these kynges In a-visement,
And eche man seith his Iugement,
Many a resoun is ther y-schewed,
Bothe of lered and of lewed;
Eche man telles his reson
Afftir his beste discrecion.
Now sitte thei alle, and taken here rede,
Now the Emperour vnto hem sede:
¶ 'Alas, that ȝe were mad knyȝtes!
Ȝe scholde sitte and wake nyghtes,
As hauke on perche that sittes in mewe;
A knyȝtes deth ȝe can rewe.
Now are the knyȝtes hardi and strong,
And euery day he is ȝow among;
Whi ne scle ȝe him, and make him die
With som tresoun and ffelonye?'
¶ A Ector, thin ere auȝt to glowe,
For thow hast now fouȝten y-nowe;
Wold god, Ector, hit were the sayd
How thei haue thi deth purvayd!
Thow scholde be saffe at devys,
Iff that thow wolde be war and wys
And kepe the fro alle her gyn,
Thow woldest be war to come ther-In.
¶ Thes lordes ben alle In gret stody,
Some are pale, and some rody,
And some sittes in a dwale,
For pure angur thei wax al pale;
Alle haue at Ector dispyte,
That he were ded with-oute refyte.
¶ Thei prayed Achilles for her sake:
"That he wolde that charge take,
For ther was non so wele couthe
In al the world by northe ne southe,
Ne non that myght stonde strokes thre
In al this world of him but he;"
¶ 'For-thi we pray the with herte large,
On the thow woldest take that charge,
And the owe best this nedis to do;
For if he leue and come the to
And dele with at his layser,
Ther saues the nother kyng ne kayser,
That thow ne schalt thy lyff for-go,
For he the hatis and thenkes slo.
¶ Fro him ful wel war the ought,
Opon thi strengthe truste thow nought,
But on thi wit and on thi scleyght,
And holde the euere fro him on heyght;
Whan thow him sees in a myscheef,
Than schaltow him dedly greef
By thi strengthe and thi wit;
So schal we of him be qwit,
And alle these other schal we kylle,
Scle and take at oure wille.'
And thus haue thei her consayl ent,
And eche man is hamward went,
To ete and drynke and take her rest,
And to sclepe, whan hem likes best.
HIt is now day, thei haue sclepen,
The Troyens risen & tok her wepen,
Her armes al byfore hem fecched,
Some ben gode, and som ben wrecched,
For many an hole and many a clyfft
The day be-fore on hem was lefft;
And dede on helm and basenettes,
Plates and mayle with gode horetes,
Mayle of bras, and goode colersMS. coters.,
Aketones and genuleres;
Thei ordeyned hem and made hem graythe,
And thret Gregeis with wordes laythe.
¶ Now the sonne is vp rysen,
Thei brought forth bothe Mule and Fryson,
Hoby, stede, and gode rounsi;
Thei alle ben goynge and alle redi
Toward the Gregeis with-oute the ȝates,
For thei wolde haue the fight al-gates.
¶ Ector was be-fore al-weyes,
He belan neuere to scle the Gregeis,
He cleues hem, and thorow strikes,
And throwes hem In clyf and dikes,
He makes here hedes naked and bare,
The bodyes cleue In-to the schare,
He drow here scheldes fro here nekkes,
Ther aketons ferd as toren sekkes;
Off his scheld made he present
To alle that wolde ȝeue strok or hent;
His sword was wel with alle a-kuoyntMS. a knoynt.
With kyng, and duke, and prince anoynt;
Hic Greci et Troiani ffecerunt magnum bellum.
Men were alle ferd of his lokyng.
Men wolde seye "hit were lesyng,"
Iff that a man the sothe sayde,
What men that day to grounde layde.
¶ Achilles holdes him euere asyde,
He maketh him redi to wayte his tyde;
As ffische is dreven to the bayte,
So waytes he him at som defaute;
T[h]er-vpon he euere duelles,
For he atentis to no-thyng elles,
For whan he may his tyme se
Opon Ector venged to be.
PAris come with hem of Perse,
With many a baner diuerse,
With bowys gode wel y-strenged;
A-mong Gregeis whan thei were menged,
Thei schotte many thorow bak and brest,
That neuere spak afftir with prest.
¶ Agamenon on syde houed,
With gode Armes and wel y-gloued;
He saw Paris was thedur y-comen,
That fro his brother his wiff hadde y-nomen;
He was to him wel greuous,
For he hadde wedded his brother spous,
Him were leuer than alle Lorynge,
That he myght his brother venge;
¶ He come to him ful wel batayled,
And with his ost Paris assayled.
Ector saw that Emperour
Was comen doun In-to that stour,
He lefft alle other and rod to him,
And ȝaff him certes woundes grym,
He smot him thorow his gode hauberk,
Thorow his scheld and his serke,
In-to the body and threwe him ouer;
Hit was gret wonder he myght couer.
¶ But Achilles was In a-gayt,
He come anon bothe stout and st[r]ayt,
With many a lord and many a knyȝt,
When he saw him In suche a plyȝt.
Ector was his men with-oute,
Achilles closed him al aboute,
That non of his scholde to him come;
But he ȝaff not ther-of a throme,
He layde opon hem dyntes grete,
That sicurly thei made him swete;
Thei were many and held him hote,
Wherfore he ran al on swote.
¶ Then come Troyle and Eueas
With [sword] & scheld and gode anlas,
Dryuand doun to helpe Ector;
Achilles was wel wroth ther-for.
¶ When Diomedes saw Eueas,
A stalworthe spere to him he tas,
Wel ney his flanke his strok he tecles,
And strikes him with spere and pricles,
And he ran forth as foule that flyes.
But Eueas be war, he abyes
The bolde wordes that dede sclyng,
'When that thow sittes by the kyng';
For he reuyled him so vylenslye,—
He thoght right wel, he scholde abye,—
When he was sent In message;
But he be war, he getis his wage.
So soffte sailes nother schip ne bote,
As he rod thedur and to him smote;
He ȝaff Eueas a grisly wounde,
And bare him doun to the grounde;
Out of his sadel he him sclong
Vilonsly among the throng,
¶ And seide vnto him his gole:
'Welcome be thow hedir to me!
Thow art the kynges conselerLast e altered from a in MS.;
Iff I may mete the efft her,
And thow this batayle efft haunte,
I schal the teche for to chaunte,
I schal the teche bothe burdoun and mene,
Ne be thow neuere so wroth ne wrene!'
AChilles fauȝt with Ector ȝet
With-oute wordes & with-oute flit,
Ther were douȝti dyntes deled
With al the myght that thei weled,
Ayther of hem on other layd;
Ther men myȝt se wel hard brayd
Be-twene two knyȝtes of hardi mode,
Thei fauȝt to-gedur as thei were wode;
Strongur was neuere be-twene two knyȝtes.
Ector sore Achilles dightes,
Opon his helme is many a score,
Many an hole, and many a bore;
So ney the deth Ector him dryues,
That his vertu fast vnthryues,
For sorily hadde he him dight;
Ther myȝt men se bothe her myght.
¶ Ector was for-fouȝten al day,
And he dede not but wayted him ay,
To stele on him as a theff,
When he fond him at myscheff.
He wende then haue don him of dawe
And his lymes al to-draweMS. alto drawe.,
But for al his quaynt thoght
He was almost brought to nought;
¶ Adhuc Bellum.
His myght was al-most y-don,
Nadde him come help son,
Ector hadde y-taken him elles;
In many a stid his blod out quelles.
¶ Him to helpe come Theseus kyng,
A strong knyȝt In alle thyng
Als come thedur pricande sone;
He swore by him that sat in throne:
"That him were leuere be al quyk fflayn,
Then Achilles were take or sclayn."
¶ Diomedes saw also,
That Achilles myȝt not do;
Ector was on him so hidous,
So ful of wrathe and greuous,
That he was dryuen so ney the prikke,
That he myght not his lippis likke.
¶ Thes kynges thanne to Ector goth,
And swor his deth, as thei were wroth,
And layd on bothe halues tho,
And ȝaff him strokes y-nowe & mo.
But Theseus son to him lepe,
As knyȝt that was good and ȝepe,
And ȝaff Ector a stroke vnride,
That the blod be-gan out glide;
The strok was huge and gret,
Men myght ther-with haue sclayn a net;
The strok was smetyn with gret folye,
He barst of his mayle thre & thrittye,
¶ He barst of hem mo than an hundur,
And persed his Armure, that hit was vndur;
Al he to-rent his armure,
That it come to his fflesche pure;
Afftir the strok the blode out sprong,
He hadde a strok a schafftmon long.
But Ector ȝaff ther-of but lytel:
Diomedes he ȝaff a titel,
And with his swerd a comyssioun,
That of his stede he fel a-doun,
That men myȝt se his yren breche;
He ȝaff not of hem a leke.
¶ Then come theder Menelaus,
Vlixes kyng, and Theseus,
The duȝti kyng Palamydes,
Ermules, and Polymetes,
Neoptolomus, and kyng Schelene,
The noble douȝti duk Menescene,
Duk Nestor, and kyng Thoas,
With alle his men Philocoas;
¶ The kynges alle with here Meyne
Come doun alle to that semble,
With knyȝtes, squier, Erle and swayn,
Was non be-hynde—soth to sayn;—
That were tho that strong be-sted,
The blod was mochel that ther was bled.
THe Troiens saw hem come doun alle,
Opon her men then gon thei falle,
Than seyde the Troyens: 'go we echon,
Go we to hem, go we gon!
We schal of hem to grounde warpeMS. wrape.
With swordes bryght and speres scharpe.'
Than was ther a woful metyng:
Many a wyff made thei wepyng,
Many a gaylard knyȝt and gay—
When thei were met—dyed that day.
¶ I Trowe, sythen men couthe wepyn bere,
And hors bere sadel and other gere,
Herde neuere man telle In boke ne rede
So manye at ones lye dede,
At on Iornay lye and deye.
Some were smeten thorow the eye,
Some to the brayn vn-to the crawe,
Some In-to the body, and some In-to the mawe,
Some the schuldres, & som the mylte,
Off bothe the parties were many on spilte.
Eche man on other schetis,
As thikke as heryng fletis;
¶ Many a legge lay on that sond,
Many on loste bothe arme & hond,
Many an hed was smeten of thore;
Thei cried and ȝelled as boles rore,
Men myght here the cry a myle
Off hem that dyed ther that while.
The brethe thei blew stode lyke a smoke,
Hit ros ouer hem as the rokeMS. reke.,
Hit ferd a-boute hem as a myst.
Many man to grounde ther dist
With mouthe and nase, al her vnthonkes;
Ector hewes of legges and schankes,
Many a man doth he to dethe,
He seses neuere, whil he hath brethe.
Off alle the men that euere god wroght
I haue most meruayle In my thoght
Off Ector certis and of his dedes,
And so haue alle that of him redes:
Ther dar non stonde of him a box,
Thei fle fro him, as hen doth fro the fox.
¶ I trowe, god made neuere suche a knyȝt,
Ne ȝaf neuere man suche a myȝt,
That euere was borne In toun or port,
But it were only to Sampsoun fort,
For he [was] seker with-oute pere
Off alle the men that euere were.
Off Sampson hadde ben ther that tyde
And al that day hadde reden him be-syde,
He ne myȝt haue don no more then he
For al his myȝt and his pouste.
Red I neuere of knyȝt ne man,
That born was of wommanIn the margin, by another hand, much faded, very indistinct: 'Driuyng hour (?) I pray the to . . . my well ordered.',
That dede the dedis that Ector did;
Alas, that euere him mys-be-tid!
AGamenon and kyng Pandale
Thei rode to-gedur in that dale,
Ayther of hem made other tumble
Bothe on fyngur & on thumbe.
Menelaus saw Paris;
Off him wold he not mys;
His spere was strong, the hed wel steled,
He smot Paris, that he doun reled
Ouer & ouer, as were a snayl;
He bare him ouer his hors tayl.
¶ Paris ther-of gret schame thoght,
That he to grounde so sone was broght;
He ros vp ful pale and wan.
For schame he hadde of fair Eleyn,
He was ther-of wel sore aschamed,
That he of Eleyne schulde be blamed,
That sche saw so foule a falle,
Ther sche was set In castel walle.
¶ Vlixes rod to kyng Arastre,
Thei fauȝt to-gedur In that plastre,
Strong batayle was be-twix hem two,
But atte laste be-tyd hem so,
That kyng Arastre so sore was priked,
That his eres the grounde likked;
¶ Vlixes toke the stede by the rest,
And sende him hom, he dede the best.
¶ Polidomes and kyng Hupoun
Eyther of hem barst other vpon,
That bothe here sperisMS. stedis. barst,
That kyng Hupoun was ded doun cast;
Afftir that strok his tonge neuere wawed,
Hit was with him wel euel dawed.
Hupoun was a man of elde,
Palamydes that strok be-held,
He saw the kyng ligge & dye
Right ther be-fore his eye.
SAyd the kyng Palamydes:
'Thow schalt abye, Palidomes!'
He strok him so sore sidlynge,
That of his hors fel that kynge,
As it were a clewe of thred;
Ne ete he neuere afftir bred.
Now lyest thow ther on thi syde,
The deuel made the a stede be-stride,
For litel myght is In thi lymes.
Palamydes Hupoun vp nymes,
And sent him to his Pauyloun
With mychel lamentac[i]oun.
¶ Afftir that Neoptolomus
Rod to kyng Archilogus,
Ayther ȝaff other suche a kayl,
That thei fflowen ouer the hors tayl
Opon that playn, as it were two rattes,
Thei lay ston-stille as two cattes.
¶ Carras rod to kyng ScheleneMS. schenele.,
Him hadde be beter at home to bene,
For Schelene ȝaff him suche a balle,
That of his stede he made him falle,
He ȝaff him suche a benedicite,
That he fel dede opon the ble.
¶ Afftir that kyng Philomene
Fel to ride to kyng Mescene,
But Mescene rod ouer his cropere
And lefft his stede, that was him dere;
Philomene sende him vnto hise,
For he him [wan] with valyauntise.
¶ Philocoas and kyng Remus
Rod to-gedur wel irus,
That to the grounde rode bothe kynges,
As euen as thei were drawen with strenges.
CAriolus, a kyng corouned,
And Theseus kyng to-geder routed
With speres scharpe, that men myȝt here;
When thei to-geder met In-fere,
Here speres brast al In-sunder,
As it were a blast of thonder;
The strokes were strong, here bakkes bent,
Ne hadde the speres a-sonder went,
Thei schuld haue dyed at my wenyng
Bothe to-geder at that metyng.
Here mayles barst, her aketons rofe,
The yren In-to the fflesch drofe,
The blod gerd out, as were a gote,
Thei tombled ouer bothe hed and throte;
Thei lay ston-stille In that plot,
As it hadde ben an erthe-clot.
¶ Ector bretheren were mechel to prayse,
Many a doughti man thei reyse
Out of here sadles and bere hem bak,
And lefft hem ligge as a sak
With grisly wounde and al ded leffte,
That thei come neuere to batayle effte.
¶ The doughti kyng sir Thelamon
Saw ther a kyng,—het sir Padon,—
To him he wolde [faste] ride,
He smot his hors and made him glide
Ouer forow and ouer falow
As swyff[t] as any swalow,
Til he him met atte speres ende;
Sir Pedoun a-ȝeyn him gan wende:
'Thow semest,'—he sayde,—'no lyuande creature,
In my god I the coniure!
And if thow be the deuel Sathanas,
I schal the mete In this plas.'
Thei riden to-gedur with-oute fayle,
That thei fel doun top ouer tayle;
Thei mette so wel, that nother fayled,
That the blod fro hem rayled;
Thei fel doun vpon the grene,
That men wende ded thei hadde bene.
ABoute Ector euere thei rayled;
The Gregeis euel he assayled,
He hewys hem offte alle to grotes,
He falles hem thikker, than the motes
In somer-tide fflyen In the sonne,
He spares nother qwik ne donne,
Lord ne lady, riche ne pore,
Strong ne feble, stiff ne store.
¶ Achilles clepes to him Thoas,
A douȝti kyng,—his cosyn was,—
He sayde: 'Cosyn, I haue meruayle,
We are not worth a scnayle
A-ȝeyn that man, that ȝonde fyghtes
Vndir vs alle with myght & scleghtes;
He sles oure men by fyue and six,
He countes hem as thei were a kex;
He weries not, ne belynnes nere,
But lastes euere In his wode gere,
Ryght as it were enchauntement;
Many a knyȝt hath he schent.
Go we to him on a closter,
Oure myght on him let vs now muster!
For now I hope and wot right wele,
His myght be passed som dele;
I trowe now wel, he be myghtles,
Or oure godis be not rightwes,
And he of myȝt is more than thay.
Go we and loke, what we do may!
And so schal we on him be wroken!'
When Achilles hadde thus spoken,
THese kynges two with-oute abode
As-tide thei to Ector rode,
And layde on him as lyther hynesMS. lytherhynes, but the down-stroke of the second h is crossed.
Many a strok the two cosynes,
Achilles and kyng Thoas;
Thei roffe his helme In that cas,
That hadde ben made of tre or lether,
Hit greued not him of a feder;
Thei brast his helme In many a stede,
And made his blode aboute him sprede.
¶ Thei did bothe certis ther myght,
To him sle or take In that fyght
With many a knyght bothe fat & megre.
But kyng Toas was on him egre,
Off Ector heued his helme he drow;
But Ector ȝaff him strokes y-now,
With tene smot he that lorer,
That he brast helme and his viser,
And halff his nase he did of-kerue,
Off suche a seruice he did him serue;
Thoas fel to grounde thore,
For he was wounded swythe sore.
ECtor brether come then alle,
Thei saw Thoas by Ector falle,
Thei ride to him and alle that other
And help right wel Ector, her brother;
Thei fauȝt with Gregeis meru[el]ously
And bare hem doun dispitously;
¶ Achilles wolde no lengur abyde.
Thei toke Thoas In al his pride
And ladde him to Troie to here prisoun,
Thei caste him In a depe dongoun,
Thei thrat him alle, tho he was tan,
For ther brother Cassibalan,
That he hadde sclayn with glad spede,
Thei him be-hight In alle mede.
¶ Antenor and Dephebus
Lad him to Troye ful greuous
Of his woundes and his takyng,
And also of his presonyng;
Thei lefft him ther In sicur warde,
And went aȝeyn to her standarde.
¶ Kyng Thelaman at that rescous
Was born to grounde as a mous,
The bretheren him threw to grounde tho,
For he assayled Ector also
With kyng Thoas and Achilles;
Him hadde ben better haue ben in pes,
For suche a wounde thei him be-tauȝt,
That he leffte bothe mayn and mauȝt.
Thei bare him to his Pauyloun,
Til he come ther In a ded swoun.
Menelaus kest al his wit,
How he myȝt Paris best hit;
¶ Paris saw wel his waytyng,
He was war of his laykyng,
Off his euel wil was Paris war;
His bowe he bente al redi thar,
He set ther-In a kene beket
And to Menelaus he hit schet;
That hed was mad with foule venym.
Paris wel euene schot at him,
And he fel doun, as he scholde dye,
The blod ran out of his eye.
¶ Paris at him euel taysed;
Fro the grounde his men him raysed,
And bare him home to his hale,
And laide him doun In-myddes the sale.
To him come sithen surgiens
And other noble ficisiens;
His wounde ful wisly then he soghte,
When thei were to him broghte.
¶ Thei ȝaf him drynke & gode medecynes,
And slaked him then of his pynes,
Thei schof aboute wel soffte his flesche,
With good wateres thei him weche,
Thei greythed him gode oynement.
When he was dyght, his stede he hent,
And rod aȝeyn to that stour,
And sought Paris with semblant sour;
¶ He swor by goddis dyng[ne]te,
He schuld on him wel venged be.
When Paris hadde with him thus toyled,
Off his Armes he him dispoyled,
He cast of al his armure,
And fauȝt with him In cors pure,
With bowe and arwe fedred with po,
He wroght amonges hem mechel wo.
¶ Menelaus was wel war,
That Paris thenne non armes bar,
But was al naked In his clothes;
He swor his dethe with gret othes,
A stalworth spere to him he kipped
With stelen hed that wel was tipped.
I hope wel Paris ded hadde ben,
Ne hadde Eueas gon be-twen,
That he myght not Paris come to,
For no-thyng that thei myȝt do.
¶ Eueas thanne hath led hom Paris
With mochel folk to Troye y-wis,
That Menelaus met him not with,
For he nas y-armed nother lym ne lyth.
ECtor saw al that fare,
How he was lad to Troye al bare.
To Menelaus ȝaff he tent,
To scle his brother how he hadde ment;
Ector therfore was sore greued,
Ther-fore his helme In-two he cleued,
Thorow his coyfe his gode swerd bot;
Menelaus ther-fore not flote,
Ne hadde no wordes him to speke,
Ne hadde no myȝt him-self to wreke.
¶ Ector wolde haue taken him fayn,
He put ther-to myȝt and mayn;
But ther come many a moder barne,
Duk and kyng,—I the warne,—
With alle her knyȝtes, him to rescowe,
For he lay stille as a sowe;
Ther come mo knyghtes to his defence
Than ben now In alle Tarence.
¶ On Ector alle thei gan leye,
Many a body he did ther dye,
Many a man to dethe gos,
For thei lette him of his purpos;
¶ Hic Greci ffugerunt.
He sclees hem & falles that he reches,
Delful strokes he hem be-teches,
He maymed hem and ouer-al slees,
That he hadde neuere more pees,
Many a man he ther spilles;
The Gregeys ffleis ouer dales & hilles,
As faste as thei may ride,
Toward her tentis on eche a side.
ECtor affter euere chases,
At eche a lepe his stede vnbrasis,
Thei fledde him as hare doth hound;
Men myȝt haue filled a gret dromound
With bodijs that he sclow chasand,
And euere he folowed manassand.
He swar here deth by bok and belle,
He nolde neuere sese hem to qwelle;
Scholde neuere man ne creature
Haue went froMS. for. that batel sure,
¶ Hadde thei of Troye had day-lyght,—
So were thei ferd and discomfyght;—
But sterres ros vpon the sky,
Ector lefft his chase for-thi
And turned hem to his Cite,
With kyng, duk, and his meyne;
And did sone off hem her harneys
& set hem doun on benche & deysThis line written in the margin very neatly, but by the same hand.—The last line of this MS. page (not printed here) is repeated there on the back of the leaf as first line.,
And made her bones nesche and souple,
For ther was many a worthi couple,
For gret trauayle that thei hadde had
Off thaire restyng were thei glad.
NOw is Ector comen to halle,
And the stedis stabeled alle,
Thei ar vndight and set In stable;
Then was reysed many a table,
The bordes were layd, the clothes spredThis line is in the MS. a repetition of the last line of the preceding page, where only leyd is written instead of layd. See footnote 2 on preceding page.,
And thei are set and richely fed
With mete and drynke, gret plente,
With vernage, Cret, and clarre,
With other drynkes and riche metes.
¶ But Priamus no-thyng for-ȝetes
To make thaire ȝates fast—
He was of the Gregeis so sore agast,—
With many bare and many a croke,
And men y-nowe the ȝates to loke,
That alle men that were trauayled
Schulde, when Gregeis hem assayled
With noyse or cry or any affray,
In thaire bed [be] ther thei lay.
¶ The ȝates he keped, and thei ben sere
To ete and drynke and make gode chere,
To ete & drynke can thei not sese,
Thei were serued with many a messe,
With many noble diuers rost,
With mete bakyn, sothen, and tost.
THe clothes were drawen, when þei had eten;
Kyng and duk and alle that ther seten,
LaydMS. layd. be-side hem bothe gerdel and pouche,
And wente than alle to thaire couche,
And held hem vnder couertoure,
And sclepte wel a gode mesure,—
Til nyght was gon, and sonne schon wyde,
That men myȝt se on eche a syde.
¶ With mechel noyse thei hem atyred,
Thei hadde long sclept and were en-yred,
And as thei her armure held In hande,
Kyng Priamus sente his tithande,
That thei schulde be that day In pees
And make hem alle wele at es.
¶ Priamus sende his messageres,
And afftir his priue counseleres,
To kyng and duk and to Ector,
And afftir Troyle and Antenor,
Til Dephebus and Eueas,
Paris and Polamydes,
That thei scholde come to his Paleis,
To here his consayl ther alweis.
¶ Thei spedde hem faste euerychon:
Thedir is comen kyng Monnon,
Gode Ector, and many another,
Troylus, and Dephebus his brother,
To Priamus that were priue,
What he wolde, to here and se.
When thei were y-comen alle
To Ylion In-to the halle,
Thei sat hem doun on that days,
Thei were stille and held her pays;
Saue Priamus, that kyng corouned,
Was non of hem that o word souned.
HE spak to hem with glad chere
And seyde: 'lordynges, ȝe are me dere;
With-oute ȝoure wil and ȝoure assent
Wol I not do, so haue I ment.
I schal ȝow telle myn herte wille,
What is my resoun and my skylle,
Whi I haue sent afftir ȝow;
Sittes stille and herkenes now!
¶ Me thinketh oure goddis speciale
And haue vs ȝeuen gret riale,
For vs haue thei mechel wrought;
To honour hem ful wel we ought.
Thei loue vs wel specially,
And worchin for vs rially,
Ther-fore schal we on alle wyse
Do to oure goddis sacrifise
With riche offerand and gret dispense,
And hem worschepe and do reuerence.
¶ We mot nede hem glorifye,
That hath vs sent oure enemye
And schamely lyght In oure prisoun,
That vs hath don gret tresoun
With force and armes and cruelte,
That wolde sle bothe ȝow and me,
To robbe oure goddis, and oure Cite brenne,
And oure wyues ledde henne,
And make oure childer thral and cherles,
That schulde be kynges, dukes, and Erles;
And we hem ones greued,
By alle the gode non ther leued!
¶ Me thinketh by resoun, and ȝow thynk als,
That this freke and traytour fals
Be ȝoure consayl and Iugement
With-oute the toun be ybrent,
Or fle him quyk al by the lawe,
Or with wilde hors him to-drawe,
Or elles hong him on galowe-tre,
That wolde distroye ȝoure Cite;
And so schal alle these other drede.
What sey ȝe now, what ȝe rede?
¶ Lete se now, what dethe demes,
Wheche deth of thes him best semes?
Schal he be qwarteredMS. qwarteler. with a knyff?
To se him ded, were al my lyff!'
Ther was no kyng that croune bered,
That Priamus that tyme answered
With word, whan he was demand;
But sat stille as dere on the land,
But were of that strong stonayd,
Of hem alle no word thei sayd.
Eueas was wis, witti, and lered,
To speke than was he not fered,
He saw the kyng hadde wratthe I-tane
For the dethe of Cassibalane,
The kynges sone, he loued best;
For wratthe him thoght his herte brast.
¶ By-fore the kyng Eueas stode,
And spak to him with milde mode,
And sayde to him as the wyse:
'Nolde god, that any of thise
Schamful dethe that to him deme!
Hit is wel better that ȝe him ȝeme
Hole and sound In gode sauete,
For we wot neuere,—no more wot ȝe,—
What may be-falle som tyme to ȝoure,
How it wol schape to vs and oure.
¶ The doughtiest man that euere was born
May falle, be tan, or elles lorn
Among his fos be chaunce and happe.
God made neuere so douȝti a schappe,
That was so michel of strengthe & myght,
Geaunt, champioun, ne other knyght,
He mot be take In batayle;
Al day we sene it, no meruayle!
¶ Ther-fore, sire, I do not rede
That ȝe do thus Thoas to dede,
For ȝe wot wel, my lord the kyng,
That kyng Toas and his ospryng
Is comen of alle the beste lynage
Off hem of Grece that ben of age;
Alle the gret blod of Grece
Ben some his Emes, and some his nece,
Alle of his kyn, and to him longe,
Ther is non gretter hem amonge.
So thei wolde do to oure frende,
Iff any come In here bende,
And ȝiff vs the same Iugement,
The beste of vs if thei mowe hent;
Off som of oure hit myght be-tyde,
Ȝe wold not for al the world wyde
Se him haue suche a chaunce
For al þe lond of Spayne & FraunceThis line inserted in the margin, like l. 7024..
¶ I rede therfore, kyng Thoas saue;
The same a-ȝeyn ȝe mowe it haue,
Ȝe may ȝit kyng Thoas chaunge
For on of oure or for som strange.
Ther-fore, lord, if I durst it say,
I wolde ȝow rede and also pray,
That ȝe wolde kepe kyng Thoas wele;
Hit may be-quyt ȝow euery dele.
¶ Gode Ector, assente ther-to
And rede thi fader, to do right so!'
He radde his ffader "that consail holde
That Eueas hadde ther tolde";—
'I holde his consail gode and trewe.
Iff ȝe him scle, hit may ȝow rewe;
For if any of ȝoure be y-take,
We may him chaunge and so pees make.'
PRiamus held him not payde,
That Ector thus to him sayde;
In his entent ȝet he leffte
And sayde to Ector wrothely effte:
'And if we do with Thoas thus,—
What schal oure enemys saye of vs,
That we haue of hem suche awe,
That we dar not do the lawe?
. . . . .No gap in MS.
And therto amonges hem be wel ffaweThe last word, ffawe, on erasure.;
Thei schal drede vs the lesse
And holde vs ferd and hertlesse.
But not-for-thi! a-ȝeyn my wille,
I schal assente ȝoure consail tille."
And so was Thoas saued fro ded
Thorow gode Ector and Eueas red.
And Eueas ȝede to Eleyne, to se
That curtays quene of gret bewte.
Kyng Thoas herte be-gan to qwake,
He wende to be hanged al nake;
But Ector wolde he were saued.
Priamus wolde that Troye hadde be paued
With hethen hond and euery a membre;
That he hadde bended or Septembre,
If he myȝt haue had his wille;
But Ector wold not lete him spille,
And thus hadde thei that conseil ent.
The nyght is comen, the day is went,
¶ Euery man to his In owe,
The wayte be-gan nyght to blowe.
Mone ne sterre saw man non,
The cloudes haue hem ouer-gon;
It wex al dym with derk cloude,
The wynde be-gan to blowe loude,
The wynd turned In-to the west,
Hit made a wonder gret tempest.
Among Gregeis blew many a blast
And alle ther tentis to grounde cast;
So wonderly the wynd it blewe,
That alle here tentis ouer-threwe;
Al ȝede to grounde bothe tent and hale,
Here ropes vayled not of a schale.
Wo is hem In hereMS. hem. sclepes,
The wynd brast bothe tre and ropes,
Ther was no stake that fast held,
Nother of Pauyloun ne of teld.
Hit was as derk as helle,
Might no man se—the sothe to telle,—
To set a-ȝeyn teld ne tent;
Thei were almost with wedir schent.
¶ It be-gan dredly to thunder;
Thei hadde nouȝt to hele hem vnder.
Hit blew, it rayned, and eke snewe,
Thei turned for cold bothe hide & hewe;
It thundred loude, it ffres, hit hayled,
Michel wo that nyght hem ayled;
It lygthned vp In the firmament,
As al the world hadde y-brent;
Hem thought, the sky had y-brend al opon,
In-to the erthe thei wolde haue cropon
For sorwe, and wo, and gret turmentes
That thei hadde of the elementes.
Affter that be-gan it rayne,
As al the world scholde be sclayne;
As water rennes In a goute,
The sky gan falle hem aboute.
Vp In the sky thei it hadde lade,
Men myght with-Inne a wyle wade
A-mong the hors vp to the hamme,
Than lefte no man synge his gamme;
¶ Thei were a-ferd of Noye flode
Hadde comen a-ȝeyn, thei vndirstode.
Al was fir in the firmament,
As it scholde the world haue brent;
The stedes starte out of here stalle
And ran aboute faste with-alle,
Men wende, that thei hadden ben wode;
The sky was as red as any blode.
Hem selff to helpe thai ne myȝt,
I-wis thei hadde a vile nyȝt;
It myȝt haue ben no worse wedur,
Off heuene & erthe hadde gon to-gedur.
¶ Thei banned & cursed alle tho,
That made thedur hem for to go
Fro thayre gode and fro ther wiff,
To lede ther so karful lyff.
Lord, the sorwe that hem was with!
That nyȝt hadde thei non other grith,
Thei quok for cold, thei were al wete,
Thei longed sore afftir hete.
IN sorwe and wo the Gregeis are,
For drede of dethe thei droupe & dare;
That thei come ther ful ofte thei playn,
Thei hopeth ful wel to be a-tayn
To neuere se thing that thei owe,
Wiff ne child, moder ne mowe.
Thei sorwe thus, til hit be day;
"And her ffrendes"— thei seyde ay—
"That lay ther dede, and som were roten,
Some smetyn, & some were schoten;"—
¶ 'Alas!' thei seyde, 'this foul vnwit,
We were with sorwe so combred and knyt!
Whan that we passed the Grekysche see,
We knewe ful lytel Ector poustee;
Hadde we knowen,—as we do now,—
Than hadde we wrought afftir oure prow,
And saued vs, and we dispende;
For now may vs no man amende,
Thes wederes done vs mechel tene.
What wonder is, of we vs mene?
We leue oure lord and oure frende,
And we ligge here in stormes and schende;
Er we wende hen, we schal be sclayn;
Litel wondir is, of we vs playn.
A, Ector, that we ne hadde knowen
Thi douȝtines, er we hadde sowen!
Schulde neuere kyng ne Emperour,
Duke ne knyȝt, ne vauesour,
Haue made vs passe the salte strem
For alle the gode of Ierusalem!'
Thei made gret del and playnyng;
But it be-gan to leue raynyng,
¶ The wynd sesid the gret blast,
The snewyng then no lenger last,
The tempest then be-gan to sese,
The thonder slaked & held her pese.
Thei were glad of the sesed tempest,
Thei were ful glad to cacche rest.
¶ The nyȝt is gon, the cloudes with-drawe,
The day be-gan for to dawe,
The sonne schon, the wedir cleres;
The Troyens then with brode baneres
¶ Were redi armed In the feld,
On stedes stronge, with spere and scheld;
The ȝates were open, and thei rod out.
The Gregeis of hem hadde gret dout,
But not-for-thi thei hadde no nede,
Thei armed hem with mechel spede,
And made hem redi to the fight—
With alle her power and here myght—
¶ A-ȝeyn Ector, that thei drede sore,
With alle here men bothe lasse and more
Here strengthe to kythe, her myȝt to proue
Off hem of Troye that thei saw houe
In-myddes the feld, and hem abode.
When bothe parties to-gedur rode,
¶ Hic Rex Hupon Troianus mortuus est.
Delful dyntes thei deled and dalt;
Many in his armes swalt,
Er euen come and day was gon.
Suche batayle was ther neuere non
Betwene two kynges on lande ne se,
Neuere was, ne neuere schal be.
BOthe parties ben y-dyght,
With scheld and spere and brynes bryȝt,
In playn feld on gode aray;
Ther is no speche of no loue-day,
For eche man wol on other be wreke,—
What bote is than of loue to speke?
Achilles with his Murmindones
Passed ouer dales and dounes;
He rides ouer dounes and dales
With alle his men out of his hales,
With baneres brode and many a sygne,
With many a worthi knyȝt and digne.
¶ The furst batayle sir Achilles
To lede that day for-sothe ches;
Out of his tent he is now yssed,
To kyng Hupoun was he wel wyssed,
A douȝti knyȝt of gret a-fere;
But him thoght euel that he come there:
Hupoun was michel and long,
Hey and brod, mechel & strong,
He was mechel as a geaunt;
But him hadde ben better to haue ben at Gaunt
Or haue leyn seke in his bed,
Then he that day batayle hadde led.
¶ Achilles smot him with a spere,
That al his Armes gan to-tere,
He smot him thorow bothe flesch & bone
And thorow his armes euerychone;
Thoow he were mechel and long,
Out of his sadel he him sclong.
¶ To Ector rod kyng Octomene
With hate and moche tene,
He come to Ector faste fleande
With a stalworthe spere In hande,
He smot Ector, that his spere barst.
'The deuel the honge hard and fast!'
Seide Ector, 'what eyles the?
Whi hastow thus smetyn me?'
¶ Ector was with him ful wrothe,
He drow his swerd and to him gothe,
And smytes him on a-nother manere;
Of his scheld a ful quartere
He carff a-wey at that strikyng;
The stroke was smyten at his lykyng,
He smote him doun vnto his chyn,
That men myȝt se the tethe with-In.
DIodemes and kyng Antipe,
With-oute trompe or pipe
Or any other Melodye,
Thei redyn to-geder with gret envye;
Here speres brast In splentes,
But thei fel not with here dentes,
With that Iustyng ne that Iornay.
But thei ȝede not quyte a-way:
¶ Thei drow here swerdes of here scauberkis
And smot on scheldes and hauberkes,
The rynges barst, the nayles out,
Thei were strawed al a-bout;
Her woundes bledde, her flesch was tamet,
The holest of hem ful sore was lamet.
But at the laste be-tydde it so,
That Diodemes smot In-two
Thorow douȝtines duk Antipe gorge,
With his swerd—was fair of forge,—
That he fel ded on gresse and rote,
Off that wounde he hadde no bote.
GLorious kyng lord Ihesu!
Who-so hadde sen Ector vertu,
How he the Gregeis ther reuercedMS. reuerted.,
Helmes and hauberk how he persed,
How he hem sclow by two and on,—
He wolde haue sworn by Peter and Ion,
By Marie bryȝt and persones thre:
That god that is In vnite
Made neuere man that was so goode,
Ne so many schedde of mannes blode,
Ne non so strong as Ector was.
By him myȝt no man pas,
That he myȝt take or hent,
That the lyff a-way ne went.
Ector slees the men of Grece,
Thei dyed thikkere then men dryues gece
To chepyng-toun for to selle;
It is a wondur for to telle,
What men he sclow In felde,
A-mong his foos how he him welde.
THer come two kynges In that batayle,
That saw Ector aboute rayle,
As faucoun flees afftir drake,
A-mong Gregeis gret murdir make;
He made hem fle for drede a-ferd,
As hound dos dere of his herd.
That on was kyng Episcropus,
That other his brother Cedyus;
Thei rod to Ector bothe at ones,
For to cleue him bothe flesch and bones.
But Ector ȝaff off hem riȝt nouȝt,
Thei fond bothe that thei hadde souȝt;
Episcropus, that ape and owle,
Spak to Ector wordes foule,
He called him "fitz-a-putaynMS. fitz aputayn.,"
And seyth: "he was a cherl velayn."
¶ Than seide Ector: 'as I am knyȝt,
Thow schalt of me haue a foul dispit,
Of me, thow kyng Episcropus,—
Thow hast defouled me thus!'
EPiscropus Ector defies.
'Fals ataynted traytour, thow lyes;'
Saide Ector, 'I was neuere thral,
I am fre, and my kynde al;
In al my kyn is no throle,
But kyng and duk, knyȝt & erle;
My ffader is a gentil kyng,
Suche is non In thyn ospreyng!
¶ Fyfftene kynges, genteler than thow,
Doth him omage and fewte now;
And I, his sone, knyȝt, and Air,
Vndir me is man and mair,
Duke and Prince, and knyȝtes strong,
And alle that euere to him long.
My moder is a gentil quene,
A trewe lady, and euere hath bene;
¶ Sche did her lord neuere falshede,
But euere was trewe In word and dede.
It semes wel thanne, that I am fre,
I may be skyl no cherl be!
And that thow schalt wite, if I the take,
Thi proude wordes schal I slake.
I drede neuere man of thi nacioun,
Whi scholde I now fle a glotoun,
¶ Hic Ector occidit Episcropum Regem et Cedium Regem.
Suche a caytyff, suche a wrecche!
I holde the not worth a fecche!'
¶ Then was wroth Episcropus
That Ector spake to him so spitous;
Dispitusly Ector he myssayde,
And sadly to him he layde
With al his strengthe and al his myght,
With Ector sone he gan to fyght.
Episcropus that schrewe vnorne
Might not his word performe;
¶ Ector sone to him gan take,
He thoght him venge of that wrake;
Ector bare his sword on hye,—
For he hadde no spere him bye,—
He ȝaff the kyng Episcropus
Suche a recumbentibus,
He smot In-two bothe helme & mayle,
Coleret and the ventayle;
He carff him doun In-to his vent,
That to the deth sone he went.
¶ 'Thow art now dede and ouer-throwen,
Thi bostful wordes that thow blowen,
Velenly thow hast thi mede;
To myssay thow efft take hede!'
CEdius saw his brother sclayn,
The swot ran doun—so doth the rayn—
And of his eye doun by his lere,
For his brother that was him dere.
'Alas,' seide he, 'that euere I was born!
I se my brother In-sonder schorn,
I schal him venge—what-so be-tydes—
Thoow my hert brest out at my sydes.'
A thousand knyghtes that douȝti were
Cedius hadde with him there;
Alle he called to him tho,
And many other Gregeis mo;
And asked him: "what was his wille?
Whi he so called and cried him tille?"
¶ Thei asked of him: "what him ayled?"
And he seide: "his lyff him ffayled,
No-thyng In erthe myght do him bote,
Er he saw Ector on his fote,"—
'For he hath sclayn my dere brother,
Episcropus, and many other;
And him folwe I thus aboute,
To seche Ector among the route,
And leue him not, vnto he be founde,
Ded or sclayn, or cast to grounde.'
¶ Cedius then with-oute lesyng
Souȝt Ector faste with gret sikyng;
A thousand knyȝtes rod with him than
With many another douȝti man,
To scle Ector and him wounde.
Thei ȝede him to seke & sone him founde,
And of his stede thei bare him doun,
And ȝede to Ector alle en-viroun;
And that me thenke no meruayle,
For he wist not of here consayle.
ECtor was to grounde I-bet,
A thousand knyȝtes thei on him set,
To scle him ther thei all hadde thoght,
For her euel wil ful thei boght.
Cedius strok to him wel offte;
Ector saw his arme on loffte
Al redi him for to strike,
Then gan Ector sore myslyke;
¶ Than seide Ector to Cedyus:
'Wenestow to sle me thus?
I sette at nouȝt alle thi Coueye,
Whil I may se ȝow with myn eye!'
¶ Ector ȝaff kyng Cedius on
And cleff a-two his schuldir-bon,
That hond & arme bothe fley a-way;
The kyng fel a-doun, and ther he lay.
THen come thedir Menelaus,
And also the stronge Archilaus,
And also the stronge Thelamon
With many a knyȝt, & kyng Makaron,
The noble kyng Diodemes
With many a thousand, & Vlixes;
Ther come also the riche Athene,
The noble man Duk Mescene.
The riche kyng ther Emperour,
That was her alther gouernour,
He come doun with the rerwarde
Strong and yrus as any lyparde.
¶ These kynges comes with here batayles,
Eche man thanne Ector assayles;
Thei died faste on euery syde.
Alas now! how schal Ector abyde
These kynges alle and her power,
Whan hem come socour fer and ner?
¶ Prime was past, hit was Midday,
And ney-honde none—as I ȝow say.
Whan alle that armes bere myght—
Off hem of Grece thei fayled lyght—
Were comen doun to that batayle
With men & hors and pedayle,
With bowe and Arwe and alblast;
Then were the Troyens sore agast,
For thei hadde fouȝten for the best
Al the day with-outen rest.
¶ Hic Achilles interficit Phillum Regem.
For then were comen the kynges alle
And begonne on hem to falle,
Thei were ffresch, these other wery.
Then were the Troyens al sory;
Thei keped the Gregeys not-for-thi
And stode a-ȝeyn strongfully;
But thei myȝt not endure so longe,
The Gregeis were that tyme so stronge,
That thei be-gan so to fle.
It myght with hem no better be,
So weri thei ben and ouer-charged,
Here socour foule fro hem targed.
¶ Achilles folwed and alle hise,
He ouer-toke the kyng Philluse;
Phillus turned and with him fauȝt,
But suche a stroke Achilles him rauȝt
With his hondes sicurly,
That he fel dede ther sodanly.
ECtor saw that Phillus was ded,
'Alas'—seide he—'that I ete bred
That euere was mad of corn of whete,
That I schulde se my men so bete!
I may not longe it suffry
Off that Achilles with his sculkery.'
He turned and loked his men toward:
Thei flowe the while faste a-weyward,
Thei wolde not bide be doune ne dale,
For that the Gregeis were so fale.
¶ Then myȝt men se the Gregeis ride,
Thei closed Ector on eche a side,
Some be-hynde and some be-fore.
Ther was a kyng—het Alpenore—
Another also het Doryus,
Thei were to Ector envyous;
On eche a side Doryus him strikes,
With his spere ful harde he prikes;
Ector deled aboute lyueray
To alle that euere come In his way.
¶ Then men myȝt se swordes drawe—
Thikkere then trees by wode-schawe—
A-boute Ector, to bere him doun;
Thei thoght he scholde neuere come to toun,
But leue ther as a caytyff
Clene ded with-oute lyff.
A Thousand swerdes aboute him clatered,—
As Masons hadde on stones batered,—
But al was nouȝt thei were aboute,
For hem alle hadde he no doute:
He deled a-boute him suche strokes,
That he carf bothe hed and chokes,
Hond and foot & haterelle;
Many on ded to grounde felle.
He sclow for-sothe the kynges two,
And many a-nother knyȝt also.
¶ To scle the Gregeis hadde he neuere pees;
He cried and seyde to Achilles:
'Thow sclow long er a kyng of myne,
Now haue I sclawe two of thyne.
Come thi-selff to venge hem;
I ȝeue of the right nouȝt certeyn!'
¶ The Troiens thanne that were fled,
When thei sey how Ector sped,
How he him-self that stour mayntened,
With hem-selff ful sore thei tened;
When he hadde sclayn the kynges bothe,
With hem-selff thei were wrothe,
Thei turned a-ȝeyn on thaire enemys,
And died faste on bothe partiesBelow the last line, upside down and very badly written, are the words: 'paphylun was an vter man bothe of leȝing & dissiuing' [? desseiesing]..
¶ Hic Amphimates Rex Interfectus est.
AVeas thanne his sword out-drow,
A kyng of Grece ther-with he sclow;
Amphimates his name was kyd
That Eveas ther to dethe dyd.
¶ The Troiens keuered a-ȝeyn the feld,
Aȝeyn the Gregeis fast thei held.
Ther was a duk of gret emprise,
That saw Ector hem alle to-brise
Alle tho of Grece that he myȝt reche;
Ful ffayn wold he take wreche.
¶ He swore by him that sit in trone
And made bothe sonne and Mone:
"He wolde him lette of his doyng,
Off his slawȝt and his quellyng."
Wel boldely to him he Ioyned,
And with his spere faste ffoyned,
That his mayles barst in-sonder,—
That thoght Ector moche wonder;—
He drow his sword and hoved stille
And fauȝt with Ector al his fille.
¶ Gret myȝt the duke schewed thore,
He layde on Ector strokes sore,
He lettid him moche of his prowes,
Off his scleyng and his rebelnes.
¶ Ector was with-al anoyed:
'Now is my myȝt strongly distroyed,'
Ector sayde, 'whan I schal thole
Off on that is not worth a cole
Suche vilony and suche repruse.
I may wel say, I am refuyse
Off alle the kynges sones of Troye,
When that I suffre of suche a boye
Suche vilonye to me be done,—
Ne se I neuere sonne ne mone!
¶ Hic venit sagittarius.
But thow schalt dere thi strokes a-bye,
Thi hardines and thi folye!
I schal kembeMS. kemble. thi ȝelowe lokke!'
He ȝaff the duk suche a knokke,
That helm and coyfe In-sunder ȝede;
He cleue him doun vnto his stede,
That he fel doun on that other side.
'Now wil thow ȝiff me leue for to ride,
Where that I loue & thow not me lette!
Now hastow that I the be-hette!'
NOw cometh a-nother kyng Episcropus
With many a knyȝt a-venterus,
Out of Troie comes he ridande
With men of Armes thre thousande.
¶ With him come A quaynte Archer,
That mad is on suche a maner:
He is halff hors and halff man.
With hem of Troye thedir he ran;
This archer ran to fight al naked.
Herkenes now, how he was maked!
Fro his nauel dounward
He was hors, and man vpward;
As a hors hadde he foure fete
That he ran on, whan he schete;
Bak and bely of hors & tayle,
Thus was he maked saunfayle;
¶ His [s]kyn was hard and no-thyng thenne,
His pyntel was of hors-kynne.
And al that was fro the nauel aboue,
Al was man—for goddis loue:—
Sides and ribbes, hed and hals,
Bak and brest, & visage als,
Armes, scholdres, chekes, & eres,—
Al was of man that he op weres.
Saue that he hadde of man no voyce,—
As an hors made he the noyce,
As it were an hors—for-sothe—he neyed.—
Many a man thorow him ther dyed!—
Tethe and gomes and mannes mouth—
Now lyues no man by north ne south,
That euere saw suche a best
In feld ne toun ne in no forest!
¶ Al was of man bothe nese & throte,
And fyngres als for his schote;
But alle his membris lasse and more
Were al be-growen with hors-hore,
Bak and bely, & legge and nase,
Brest, Armes, & his visage;
As he were a hors, he neyes & ondesLine 7729 after 7730 in MS..
His eyen were lyke to brennande brondes;
He fferd, as he scholde men haue brent
With spark of fire that fro him glent;
His vice was red as any fir.
Bowe and arwe was his atir.
WHan he was comen, he bent his bowe;
Alle that euere him sawe
Were ferd of him and strongly wondred;
The horses snored, as it hadde thondred—
So were thei of him agrysed,
So brend his eyen and dredful glysed.
Ther durst not on loke to him ward,
Here hors turned aweyward;
¶ Thei wolde haue fled out of the feld,
But eche a man his hors held:
With mochel wo thei hem resteyed,
To make hem dwelle thei offte assayed;
Thei held hem stille with bridel & reyne,
With mechel wo and mechel peyne.
THis Archer schotes & sendes Arwes,
He slees the Gregeis, as men take sparwes
With lym or net or lymȝerdes,
Hors & man that Archer ferdes;
And Ector slees al that he hittes.
Ther is no man that on hors sittes
Off hem of Grece, that may restay
Ther hors lenger, but fled a-way;
Ther is no man that ther abydes,
But eche man aweyward rydes
To here tentis & Pauelons.
Achilles with his MurmondonsMS. Murmondous.
Vnto his strengthe a-weyward prikes;
Ector faste afftir him strikes
With hem of Troie; and that archer,
He schet aboute him fer & ner
With arwes that were wel I-hededLine 7765 after 7766 in MS.;
The Gregeis offte In-sunder hem scheded.
¶ A wonder chaunce he did hem thore:
When thei of Grece discomfited wore
And to ther tentis a-weyward fledde,
Her Archer faste Afftir hem spedde;
The Archer hadde so smartly ronnen,
That he hadde lond of hem wonnen.
As he thus ran aboute schetande,
He saw aȝein him come prikande
Diomedes vnto his tentis;
The archer thenne an Arwe out-hentis,
He smot at him—so was he thare—
Diomedes was wel ware,
¶ To schote at him so was he prest;
He wiste neuere, whedir he myȝt best
To his pauyloun for to ride,
For he most ride that Archer be-side,—
¶ Hic Diomedes occidit sagittarium.
Or if he turned a-weyward,—
His enemys come on him bakward:
For if he come a-monges her hondes,
For al the godis of Gregeis londes
Wold thei not lette the kyng quyk go,
With lyff and lym hem go fro.
¶ He was In gret a-visement,
How he myght passe and be not schent;
He saw be-fore him that foule best,
The Troyens afftir him with many a crest.
¶ The Archer was the kyng so hende,
To scle that kyng wel he wende:
To that kyng he gan to hale,
And drow an Arwe vp to the vale;
And as he was In his losyng,
Diomedes, that douȝti kyng,
Hadde his sword al redi drawe,
That many of Troie hadde done of dawe.
¶ He strok his stede & to him rode,
Ar euere arwe fro him glode:
He smot the best vpon the bak
And ȝaff him right an euel knak;
He smot his bak [right] in-sunder,
That he fel doun his hors fete vnder.
NOw are the Gregeis fayn and bolde,
The Archer lyes vpon the wolde
Sclayn and dede, as men telles;
None is ther that langer dwelles,
Thei turned a-ȝeyn and toke the feld,
Thei droff Troians fro tent to teld.
¶ To Ector rennes Achilles,—
But [of] him ȝeues he not two strees,
He kepte him and not for-soke.
A stalworthe spere to him he toke
And smot Ector with myght and mayn,
And he smot him for-sothe a-ȝeyn,
That eyther fel doun, er euere thei wiste,
That bothe her eres the grounde kiste.
¶ But Ector was hurt the sorrour,
For he come doun fro the fferour
As he had ben a man [a-]rage.
He toke Ector at his a-vauntage,
Wher-by Ector In his ffallynge
Toke wel more the brussynge,
And lenger lay his hors beside
Then Achilles dede that tide.
¶ Achilles ros op witterly
And lepe on hors sicurly,
He layde his hond on Ector stede
And went a-way wel gode spede.
ECtor was risen and vp-stode,
He loked aboute as he were wode,
And swor I-tenedMS. & tened. and he sporles,
The blod ran out at his nase-throlles;
When he fro him his hors saw lede,
Mouthe & nase began to blede,
For tene & wo his hew chaunged.
Ector afftir Achilles sewed,
¶ Opon his feet faste he hyes,—
To his men faste he cryes:
'Se ȝe not, how myn enemy
Ledes a-way my hors ȝow by?
Iff he him lede thus fro ȝow alle,
Foule reproues ȝow schal be-falle!
But ȝe him sonner ouertake,
Ȝe bene not alle worthi an hake!'
¶ Eche man than afftir rides,
Is none lengur that then a-bydes,
¶ Hic Greci tenuerunt Antynorem Regem.
Eche man afftir rides & rennes.
AchillesMS. Ector. thenne for tene brennes,
Maugre his tethe the stede he lefft,
For Ector brother ffro him it refft;
He myȝt no ferther for him go,
Therfore for-sothe he was ful wo.
¶ Lord! so Ector thanne was fayn,
Whan he his gode stede hadde aȝeyn,
He wold not for his weyȝht of gold,
That Achilles it hadde hold.
Many of Grece bowte his takyng,
Men myȝt se thenne speres schakyng:
¶ Ector sclees and Ector felles;
His hors takyng dere he selles;
He riues helmes and cleues hedes;
Ther is no Gregeis that himMS. that thei him. [ne] dredes.
Ther died for him on that sond
Sixti that neuere layde on him hond.
ANtenor rode aboute strikande,—
Fro Ector was he fer fyghtande
On that other half of that batayle,
And that was him to wrothe-haile:
For thei of Grece opon him throng
And him be-closed hem among;
His men bacward fro him frusched,
And many of hem to grounde crusched.
¶ Antenor did that In him was,
But he myght not fro hem pas,
For thei of Grece were more then he:
Thei toke him at that semble
And sent him to herMS. his. pauylons
With-outen any hauylons,
And held him In her prisoun.
Polydomas of gret renoun
Therfore was he ful sori,—At the head of this page, not very distinctly: Aynesworth.
That was his sone, was him bi:
His hert forsothe wex al cold,
When the tydandes were y-told.
¶ Gret meruayles tho in hem he wrouȝt,
Off his lyff as he nad rouȝt,
But he ne hade no space at his lykyng,
For it was thenne ney euenyng;
¶ The day was gon, thei hadde no lyght,
For it was wel with-Inne nyght.
To dwelle lengerwas erased between lenger and thenne. thenne was not gode,
The[i] leue ffyghtyng, as hem be-hode,
And turned hom with weri bones,—
Eche man to his owne wones,—
Vn-Armed hem, and wente to reste;
To house come many a weri geste.
¶ Thei layde borde & clothe & ȝede to mete.
Polidomas myȝt not for-ȝete
Off al that nyȝt for no thyng
His dere fader takyng:
Ful litel he drank and les ete,
The teres fel to his fete.
¶ Off alle that nyȝt myȝt he not slepe,
Al that nyȝt he lay and wepe,
Til hit was day, the sonne gan schyne,
Euermore dured his pyne.
Then he ros vp, as most nede,
To arme him, his men to lede,
Aȝeyn Gregais to fight to-morn.
Wo was him, that he was born,
For sorwe and care and mornyng
That he toke for his lordis takyng.
¶ The nyght is passed, hit is day,
The sonne hath dreuen the sterres away,
Ther is no sterre opon the sky;
The sonne is resen & schynes on hy,
Fair & bryȝt he schewes his bemes.
Thei risen vp of here dremes,
Off Troie and Grece [the knyȝtes] bothe;
Many of hem schal be wrothe:
¶ Hadde thei of here sweuen taken tent,
That thei hade wyten, what it hade ment,
When hardi thynges thei did mete,
Tho that schold her lyf for-lete!
But ther-of toke thei kepe no-thyng,
But busked hem In the dawyng,
And Armed hem In sail & schip;
And than thei ȝede and toke a sop,
Thei ete a sop, and afftir dranke,
For In batayle thei wolde be strang.
¶ When thei wente out of here hale,
Many drank nother wyn ne ale
Affter that, ne ete, ne drank,
But layen ded & foule stank!
Eche man sclow other & felle doun,
Many of hem come neuere to toun
Hole aȝeyn, as thei ȝede out;
Some lefft his hed, and som his snout,
Some to-hewen and foule ferd with;
Some les his lyff, and som his lyth.
WHan bothe parties to-gedir wore,
Thei smetyn to-gedur strokys sore:
When thei were comen out of her hales,
And thei of Troye out of here sales
And passed her ȝates & here dikes,
Eche man at other strikes;
He drow his swerd, and he his bowe,
Mechel sorwe ther was y-sowe:
He anon, his knyff he drawes,
—And he is ded,—and ouer-thrawes,
He schakes his spere, he rides owerre,
And he fel doun I-hurtMS. and hurt. wel sorre,
He is ded, and he is sclayn,
And he is born thorow the brayn,
He ses his lyuer and his entrelles;
Michel is the wo that hem ayles.
ANd thus ferde thei fro that thei ros
Til the day a-weyward gos,
And nyght was comen, and lyght was fayled.
Ector euere aboute rayled,
AsMS. And. faucoun doth opon his pray;
The bodyes thikke aboute him lay,
That ther lay with dethis wounde;
Many a knyȝt fel to the grounde.
Ful sorily he hem ransaked
Fro that morwe that he waked
Til euen-tide that home he ȝede,
For he hadde neuere so moche nede
To help and socour his meygne,
As he hadde at that Iorne.
¶ For Gregeis were so styff and stronge,
That thei his men doun sclow & sclonge,
As thei of hem hadde ȝeue right nouȝt;
But euere among thei it dere bouȝt:
For Ector sclow hem al a-boute,
Many Gregeis made he loute;
¶ Ector hem sclow, as it were mys,
Thei died faste on bothe parties
Off hem of Troye & of Gregeis,
Thei lefft liggyng many karkeis.
Echon wolde other sclo,
Off Grece died fele, of Troye wel mo.
Glad was he that ther ascaped.
The better side the Gregeis schaped
As for that day—as I herde telle.
With hem of Troye so it be-felle:
Ne hadde douȝti Ector ben,
Thei hadde not lefft a cyteseyn
With him In the feld, that thei nad fled;
So were the Troiens sore adred,
For thei of Grece were so strongful,
That thei vnnethe stode hem a pulMS. apul..
BVt Ector mayntened his syde
For al here strengthe and here pride,
He brekes her hedes, her helmes & scheldes,
Ful nobly his men he ledes.
And thus he heldis with gret labour
Aȝeyn Gregeis al day that stour,
Til nyȝt was comen and day gon,
And thei departid euerychon
On bothe parties more and les,
For it was so gret derknes.
¶ Thei ȝede euen home to her hous,
Thei fond ther many a sori spous,
That sori were for here husbondis;
Some lay dede on the sondes:
¶ The wyues of Troye made gret mornyng;
Amonges the Gregeis was gret roryng,
Thei blew and cried—as wilde bere brayes—
For her frendes that died tho dayes;
Thei wende neuere that day abyde,
That thei scholde hom with her lyff ride,
To passe ouer the Grekissh wawes.
Thei hadde In honde wel carful sawes
A-mong the grete and the smale,
Al nyȝt ther-of thei hadde here tale.
¶ That Agamenon was vp rysen,
That hadde Antenor In his prison;
When he saw it was day cler,
He sent out his Messanger
To Priamus and to his baronage,
Trewes to aske and trewes to wage,—
Off thre monthes thei him besought,
Til the dedMS. he did. to erthe was brought.
DIomedes and Vlixes
To Priamus were sent in pees,
To aske this trewe, and make it stable
On bothe parties with-oute fable:
That non of hem schuld other dere
With non harm In maner of were
Lastyng the terme of that trewe,
And who-so did, it scholde him rewe;
Thei be Iugement const[r]eyned
To suffre therfore that men ordeyned.
¶ These kynges to here hors take,—
Wel richely dyght ffor worschepe sake:
Thei dede on robes that hem best payes,
Off riche gold were alle the rayes,
Off riche scarlet were bothe here champes,
Poudred ful of golden lampes,
With lilye-leues and fflour-delys;
The robes were of mochel prys,
¶ Thei were parted with riche palle.
The knyghtes were fair & clene with-alle,
Here hodes dyght with gold ribanes,—
Better weres non among the Danes;—
Thei were with gold wel I-fret,
The ffloures of gold on hem set,
With wilde bestes and fflyande ffoules,
Liouns, lipardes, ernes, and owles
Off riche gold that louely schon;
In hem stode many a riche ston,
Saphur riche, and selidone,
Erbe-de-bothe, & Cassidone,
And euere among the dyamaund,
Sewed wel with gode orfoyle-suand;
¶ The frette of gold was like a belle,
So were thei gret & horrible;
Worth michel gode thei were apraysed,
Thei were so couched and hye vp-raysed.
¶ Thei rode to-geder with-oute debate;
Thei are now comen to Troye ȝate,
In forme of pes thei aske entre:
"To lete hem In for charite,
That thei myȝt wende with-out outrage
To Priamus on here message."
THe ȝates are opened and vndon,
The kyng[es] were leten In son,
Thei were I-kept with curtesye.
Ther was a knyȝt of genterye,
A riche man, that het Delon,
A gret courser sat he vpon;
He was In Troye bothe geten & born,
He saw the kynges come him be-forn.
¶ On his hors that he be-strode
Aȝeyn tho kynges he thenne rode,
And kept hem faire as knyȝt curtays,
And led hem In-to the kynges palays;
He led hem bothe In-to the halle:
The kynges were at the mete alle,
¶ Priamus and his knyȝtes of myȝt;
Ther-Inne was a louely sight.
When Delon broght thes messageres
To the kyng and his consaleres,
To speke with him, her erand to schewe,—
Off his consayl were ther but fewe.
¶ Delon broght hem to the bordis,
Thei gret the kyng with louely wordis,
Thei told her erand and asked respit:
"That alle myȝt reste, bothe knaue & knyȝt,
On bothe parties monthes thre
By siker hostage & gode surte."
With louely wordes and faire spekynges
Kyng Priamus answered the kynges:
¶ 'I holde him certes with-oute manhede,
That loueth wrong or any falshede;
I dar of trewe make myn avaunt:
I schal helde siker that I graunt,
I schal holde trewes I vndirtake;
I schal hem helde and siker make,
That non of myne schal do ȝow skathe,
Nother late, erly, ne rathe
Lastyng the trewe; and ȝe also
The same a-ȝeyn to me schal ȝe do.
¶ But ȝe wot wel: It is not skylle,
That I assente the trewes tille
With-oute red of my consayle,
Off my baronage, & myn avayle
That ar with me In myn enprise.
But I for ȝow now schal arise
And herkyn, what my consayl sais;
So longe ȝe schal dwelle In peis.
Iff thei assent, I graunt for me:
What thei wol say, ȝe schal sone se.'
PRiamus wol no lengur ete,
He settis a-way drynke & mete,
For curtasie of his two gestis
He settis a-way borde and trestis.
He wolde thei were sone answerd,
That ther drecchyng hem not dered.
¶ Priamus did to him calle
Kynges and dukes and lordes alle;
Thei stode aboute him on a rowe,
He spak to hem with wordes lowe:
'Wol ȝe thus longe trewes fulfille?'
Sayde Priamus—'say me ȝoure wille:
What schal I tilleMS. telle. hem now say?
Schal I seye: "ȝe," or: "nay"?
¶ Avise ȝow now alle In-fere,
Now ȝe ben to-geder here:
What is ȝoure wit? how thenke ȝow?
Hope ȝe hit be for oure prow
To graunt this trewe? wol ȝe assente?
Telle me ȝoure best a-visemente!'
THe kyng[es] sayde by on name:
"To graunt trewe, it was no schame,"—
'Sithen thei it aske at oure request,
Hit is worschepe to oure behest;
And we may reste vs the whiles,
For we ben ful of woundes and biles,
That ben ful of quytour & wores;
We may the while hele oure sores.
We wol the trewe graunte and hauen,
Sithen thei comen hit to crauen.'
¶ Ther was no lordyng In that halle,
That thei ne graunte the trewes alle
And wel apayed—saue Ector one;
Ther-to spak he wordes none;
He saw what thei alle thought,
Therfore wolde he say right nought;
He saw it was al therMS. alther. lykyng
To be In pes and haue restyng;
¶ Hic Greci pecierunt pacem.
And not-for-thi hit liked him ille,
That thei schuld ligge so longe stille,
And for he was not al wel payd,
To hem thus mechel Ector sayd:
¶ 'The Gregeis haue the trewes craue,
For thei wolde her ded men graue;
I dar wel say: hit is not so.
But I wol not the trewes vndo,
Sethen ȝe alle the trewes wol holde;
I wole it be as ȝe haue tolde;
But I dar say that thei thenke falsnesseMS. salsnesse distinctly.,
Thei are purvayd of gret queyntenesse.
¶ I wot ful wel, her mete hem fayles,
Thei haue defaut of here vitayles;
Thei may not fyght, for strengthe hem fayles.
Thei schal the whiles puruay vitayles,
Off corn, wyne, and other store,
And be better thanne thei were ore.
And we that while oure good schal waste,
Hit wol vs faile now In haste;
Thei wol mis-ledeMS. vs lede. vs with a trayn.
What good be-houes vs to sustayn
¶ The folk that is with vs her-In?
Where schul we the godis wyn,
To mayntene vs and holde oure lyues?
I trowe that roste schal oure knyues,
When we haue no bred for to kerue;
I not wher-of thei schal vs serue,
We may be serued with-outen brede.
But now ȝe haue graunted to take hede
THis trewes to holde, I say for me:
I wole right wel thei holden be;
For I schal neuere aȝeyn calle
That thyng that ȝe assenten alle.
I wol ȝoure hele and ȝoure wel-fare;
Ȝif ȝe mys-ferde, it were my care;
I wole right wel that we vs reste,
Then may we be bothe tacte & preste
Aȝeyns the terme the trewe comes out,
We may be thenne bothe styff and stout.
I holde me payd of ȝoure Iugement,
I wol not fro ȝow disasent.'
¶ Then were theMS. we. Troiens mury & glad,
When thei leue of Ector had,
That thei scholde reste so longe;
Many man for Ioye songe.
Hit was gret murthe & Ioye
To hem of Grece and eke of Troye,
That trewe is tane and last so longe;
That thei myght bothe ride & gonge
To take her murthe and her solace,
Eche man is glad In that place.
THese lordes toke leue of the kyng
And wente hom al hying;
And to the Gregais hom he brynges
Off his trewis gode tydynges,
That thei of Troie hath graunt the trewes.
Then myȝt men here many glewes,
Pipe and Trompe, and many nakeres,
Synfan, lute, and Citoleres;
Ther was so many a daunce.
Thei made tho gret puruyaunce
Off corn and hay, of wyn and otes,
And thei songen wel merie notes;
Thei hele her woundes In gret quiete,
With mochel Ioye thei dronke and ete.
And thei of Troye were as fayn
Off here reste, bothe knyȝt & swayn,
And hele her woundes at here layser,—
Kyng[es] and knyȝt[es] & kayser.
And al the while the trewes held,
The[i] speke to-geder In toune & ffeld;
And that riche kyng Thoas,
That with Ector takyn was,
Scholde go quyte to his Pauyloun,
And Antenor home to Troye toun.
¶ Ayther of hem the prisons hom sendes
With-oute raunsoun & with-oute amendes,
For that on that other is gre;
And so schal thei quyte be.
THe trewes is graunt & schal be holden:
Riche robes were then vnfolden:
Many a coffre was vnstoken,
To drawe out robes that were y-loken;
Eche man his coffer vnsperes
And takes gerdeles of riche barres
With bokeles of gold and fair pendaunt,
Wel anamayled with the mordaunt;
¶ Many a broche and many an oche,
To stike on hede and on pouche.
Thei toke out rynges and made hem gay,
Thei leued In Ioye & mechel play,
The whiles the trewes last;
But al was lefft, when that past.
Whil it was trewes, was many hode
Gayli wered with mochel gode;
¶ When thei were gon, thei layde hem doun
And toke the stelen haberioun,
The ketil-hattes and stelen hure,
And layd away the gay pelure;
Thei toke her spores with kene roweles,
And leyde a-way the riche jeuelesMS. reueles..
¶ Hic. Ector ibat ad Reges Grecorum in tempore pacis.
HIt was a day lastyng the trewes,
And eche a lord his clothyng newes;
Ector was ffair and semely dyght.
The day was fair, the sonne was bryght,
Merye synges the nyghtyngale,
The throstil, and the wilde wode-wale;
It is gret Ioye to here the larke
In toun and feld, fforest and parke.
¶ Ector sayde: "that he wolde go
Achilles to se and other mo;
He wolde with him haue daliaunce,
To se her hertes and her contenaunce."
He rod him out of his Cite,
The lordes of Grece for to se;
¶ With him ȝede many a riche lordyng,
Many a duke, and many a kyng.
He was welcomed with gret honour
To Agamenoun her Emperhour,
The kynges did him worschepe alle;
Achilles bed him to his halle,
Ful Inwardly he him be-sought:
"That he fro him departid noght,
Til thei to-gedir In his tent
Hadde dronken vernage and pyment,
And that thei myȝt to-gedur carpe;—
Hit were him leuere then note of harpe."
¶ Ector graunted alle his prayeres,
He ȝede with him and alle his feres.
When thei were comen and alle doun set,
The wyn was asked and forth y-fet;
At here comyng thei made fair wedur
And spak of many thynges to-gedur.
Achilles euere Ector be-holdes,
His legges anon on crosse he foldes,
For he was naked, he was fayn.
He myȝt not his tong constrayn,
He most nedes say out his wille,For the disorder of the MS. from here to line 9124 consult the Intro|duction, and my paper in the Engl. Stud. 29, p. 390 sqq.
He myȝt not holde his tonge stille;
And that was mochel his vilony,
He sayde to Ector al an hy:
¶ 'Sithen I se the, I haue desired
To se the, Ector, vn-atired;
And now hastow me Ioyful maked,
Now I se the vn-dight and naked.
And I hadde sclayn the,
Then wolde I fayn be;
And I haue offte assayed my myȝt,
When we haue met to-gedur In fight;
Ful sorefully hastow me gret,
When that thow with me has metR iiij below this line in the right corner of the page.,
Mi blod thowMS. that thow. hast offte y-tamed,
I haue of the wel offte be lamed,
Many a strok has thow me payed;
By thi strokes haue I assayed
That thow art stalworth and strong;
Thoow I the hate, I do the no wrong,
¶ I am ȝit hurt of thi strykyng.
Hit were therfore al my lykyng,
That I myȝt scle the with my hond:
I hate the mochel, for my frende might be o.
That thow sclow the formast day
In thi wodenes and thi deray.
Patrodus kyng I loued wele;
Many sore mete and mele
Hastow made me for to ete,
¶ His dethe may I not ffor-ȝete.
But if I leue fully a ȝere,
His dethe schaltow bye wel dere,
With my hond schal I the sclo,
That hath brouȝt me In this wo;
For me to sclo euere thow thenkes,
And ther-a-boute faste thow swynkes.'
ECtor sat & held his pes,
That herkenes alle that he seis,
Til he hadde saide his gret gole:
'Hastow no more to say to me?
Hastow sayde what thow wilt?
Thow puttist vpon me gret gilt
But me thynke it is no curtesye,
But vnmanhede & vylonye!
Thow bad me come to thi pauylons,
To drynke with the Murmindons;
Thow prayes my knyȝtes and my burgeis,
To drynke here with thi Gregeis;
¶ Hic Ector respondit AchillemThis rubric is head-line of lf. 133..
For vylonye I trowe thow lettes,
That me among thy men thow threttes.
Sicurly I schal thurste sore,
Or I drynke with the efft more!
Thow schalt here me no more chide,
I ȝeue [riȝt] not of thi pride:
¶ By him that made al mydelerd!
I am of the no-thyng aferd,
I ȝeue not a threden lace
Off thyn euel wil and thi manace!
Wel I wot and am certayn,
Thow wolde be glad, hadde thow me sclayn;
Offt hastow me assayled,
When thi wille hath not a-vayled.
¶ Ther was neuere theff In no hostage,
That wayted better his a-vauntage,
To do his stelthe and his robrye,
Than thow waytest me In skolkerye;
But thow hast ben glad al-wey, to ride
With broken hede and blody syde.
SIr Achilles, thow art wilful'
—Sayde Ector—'and vnskylful;
No meruayle is—so god me saue!—
Thoow I to the gret herte haue.
Sicurly I haue no wrong,
Afftir thi dethe thoow me long;
¶ Thow hates me with-oute desert,
And that is knowen and apert.
Me & myne thow wolde distroye,
And art aboute me to noye
In al that euere thow mayt,
And waytes me with dissait
With alle thi men bothe day & nyȝt,
For to scle me, ȝiff thow myȝt.
It were therfore a-ȝeyns kynde,
In my herte if thow schold fynde
In any wyse to loue the,
That to the dethe hates me:
And if I may, I schal not sclepe
For thi proude wordes, or many wepe;
Iff I may leue two ȝer to the ende,
Wel ffewe of ȝow schal hennes wende.
¶ I hope riȝt wel and me affye,
That thorow my strengthe alle ȝe schal dye,
Thow and alle the lordes of Grece;
I schal ȝow hewe al to pece.
¶ And sythen thow [be] of such mode
That thow fyndis thyn herte gode,
That thow thi-selffMS. thi felff distinctly. wil with me fight
And ther thow wolde do thi myght,—
Do, that vche a kyng and lord
Off hem of Grece to this a-cord:
That thow and I to-geder don be
To-morwe erly, that men may se,
In feld ffyghtyng with-outen respite,
Til thow or I be discomfite.
¶ And if I falle In thi daungere
With any vn-hap or noun-powere,
That thi god suche grace the sende
That I fro the not defende:
I schal the swere good sothnesse
Opon my goddis more and lesse;
And ȝit schal I the borwes ffynde,
That fader and Moder and al my kynde
Schal go a-way with-oute dwellynge
Or with-oute godis sellynge,
And leue the al with thyne and the,
And thei and I schal hennes fle.
And ȝit may thow almes the wynne,—
For we do euel and mychel synne,
Off mannes blod that we don spille,—
Iff that thow wol holde ther-tille.
¶ Iff happe so with me schape
That thow may no wyse askape
Fro me with-oute discomfiture,
Make thi Gregeis make me sure
By borow and book and sikur bandMS. sikurband.,
That thei schal wende out of this land,
And vs be her In gode quyete.
And but thow do, so thow be-hete,
I prayse the lasse than I dede ore;
Iff that oure men schal fyght more.
But lete it be on vs y-done
To-morwe be tyme, or hit be none!
And wyn worschepe who that may!
God for-bede that thow say "nay"!'
AChilles was gretly aschamed
That Ector thus foule him defamed,
He was a-schamed many-folde
That he so litel by him tolde
Among his men ther In his halle,
That he asked him fight amonges hem alle
Be-twene hem two with-outen mo.
He was Angwysched so for wo,
That of his forhede barst the swote,
That al his face ther-of was wote;
He ferde as he hadde ben araged,
That Ector him that batayle waged,
And seyde to him as man that yred:
'Thow schalt haue that thow hast desired!
I se riȝt wel thi couetise:
Thow settes on me In alle wyse,
¶ Hic Achilles iurauit & optulit cirotecas suas ad pugnandum cum EctoreThis rubric is head-line of lf. 134, bk..
To fight with me In feld alone;
I ȝeue not of the a bone!
¶ But here my trowthe to the I plyght
To-morwe erly with the to fight,
And therto here I ȝeue the þe gloue,
Be-twene vs two alone to proue
With strengthe or myȝt, whether thow or I
In fight schal haue the victory;
And therto here my gloue I bede,
In trewe forward to holde this dede.'
'And I hit take,' gode Ector sayde;
'For I was neuere so wele apayde,
In-to this world sithen I was brouȝt—
By him that al this world hath wrouȝt!'
¶ Ther is no man that spekes with tonge
In al this world, old ne ȝonge,
Lered ne lewedMS. lewel, cf. l. 3578., lord ne lad,
May telle the Ioye that Ector had,
Ne foule with his mury song,
As Ector hath his gloue to fong.
But that thyng myȝt not be hid:
Among the Gregeis it was kyd,
That Achilles hadde take on hande,
The next day afftir ffolwande
¶ To ffight with Ector man for man.
This thing wel swithe a-boute ran
Fro kyng to kyng, fro halle to boure:
So it was seyde to the Emperoure
And alle that other kynges be-dene,
How ffight was taken hem be-twene,
¶ And no man myȝt here ire a-swage
And thei hadde ȝeuen to-gedur wage:
And if it schape be-twene hem thore
That Ector discomfit wore,
Catel, godes, and the land
Schal be-leue In Gregeis hand;
And if it happe with Ector so
That Achilles he myȝt sclo,
That he and his schul dwelle in pees,
And alle the Gregeis on a res
Out of that lond thei schul wende,
And ther no lenger schold thei lende.
THes thinges were y-told and brouȝt,
The Gregeis wondred In here thouȝt,
Hem wondred of Achilles,
That he on that wyse graunted pes,
To ffight with Ector al alone;
Ther-fore thei maked moche mone,
Off that couenaund that hem was told;
The kynges seyde: "thei wolde not hold";
¶ Kynges and dukes and lordes alleFor the disorder of the MS. at this place cf. Introduction.
Seide: "thei wolde aȝeyn that calle,
Thei wolde for-sake it euery a dele,
Thei nold not so put her quarele
In a-venture ne In Iopardie."
Thei seyde: "it was but folye";
Thei seyde: "it was not so done."
Thei made hem redi alle & some,
¶ Alle the lordes that ther ware,
To Achilles for to fare;
Thei hyed faste, wold thei not blynne,
Er thei come to his Inne,
Ther thei bothe to-geder stode.
These lordes alle to hem ȝode,
¶ Achilles his wordis alle with-sayde,
Ther-with were thei euel ypayde
Off his profre ne of his a-vaunt;
That he hem bad, wold thei not graunt:
Thei wolde neyther putte lyff ne lym
A-ȝeyn Ector for-sothe In hym;
Thei seyde: "it was not equyte,
That lyff & lym schuld so put be"—
'Off so fele kynges as are now here
Be-twene ȝow In such manere.'
TRoiens come thedir gret won,
The lordes of Grece ben ther echon;
Ther standes a-boute hem many hundre
To parte the knyȝtes two In-sundre;
Thei seyde echon at on assent:
"Thei wolde not holde that Iugement."
¶ Ector myȝt not the batayle haue,
He myȝt no more ther-of craue,
For thei of Grece with-sayd it alle,
Kyng & knyȝt, bothe fre and thralle.
Hit was no bote hem to greue,
Off hem of Grece toke he his leue,
¶ Opon his hors vpward he lyghtes
And wente to Troie with alle his knyȝtes,
An-angered sore and alle his.
Thei of Grece toke ther-of no pris,
Hem angered sore that he come thore;
Achilles schold abye hit sore.
Thei wolde his hond were an harowe-tynde,
His herte a mylleston for to grynde,
His flesche & bon as assches smale,
Ther-of wolde thei ȝeue no tale.
ALas Ector, what was the schaped,
When he fro the so skaped!
Fals fortune was not thi ffrend,
Whan sche delyuered him fro hir bend;
Sche made the Gregais alle say "nay,"
For sche hadde cast his endyng-day.
Kyng Priamus, where was thi grace?
Thi happe was take fro the, alas!—
When thei of Grece that feyth vndid;
Hit hadde the vayled, hadde it be-tid,
AndMS. That. Hectuba, thi worthi quene,
And thi douȝter Pollexene,
And also to Andromede,
Nadde no man no fight for-bede.
Alas! that it was so for-bed!
Elles schold ȝe ful wele haue sped.
¶ Hic Ector ibat ad TroianumThis rubric is head-line of lf. 127..
A noble Troye, thow fair Cite,
Hit hadde a-vayled alle thin and the,
¶ Thi toures hye and thi faire walles,
Thi ladyes alle with golden palles,
And alle that woned with-Inne the,
Iff that batayle hadde y-be!
Fortune hated the so sore
And alle that In thi Cite wore,
That he wolde not lette it be so,
But sche wolde the and thine for-do;
And ther-fore letted sche that batayle,
And elles not, I say saunce-ffayle.
ECtor is comen to Ilyoune,
Fro hem of Grece vnto his toune;
In-to that worthly halle he gose,
The ladyes alle a-ȝeyn him rose,
Thei kept him alle with gret honour,
Lord and lady and vauesour;
Thei loued him alle with herte and mouth,
That any good or loue couth.
For he on defendet hem alle,
That no harm hem did be-falle:
¶ The while that he was lyuande,
Thei were sicur of his hande,
Thei hadde gret trist In his dede;
The while he leuedFirst e corrected from o by the scribe himself., thei hadde no drede.
When he was ded, than ros here bale;
Alle thei died by oure tale,
¶ Alle were dede and put to prisons
And put In gret subieccions,—
Saue Eueas and Antenor,
Goddis curs haue thei ther-for!
Thei were saued and alle theires,
Seruaunt, mayden, wiff, and Ayres.
For thei dissayued her lige lord,
The deuel hem honge vpon a cord!
Haue thei neuere so good pardoun,
For thei wrouȝt suche a gret tresoun!
HIt drawes faste toward the day,
The trewes wendes faste a-way;
Ther is no man that lengur lotes
Off these gay golden cotes;
Thei garnysched here swerdes, speres, & clubbes,
Eche man now his harneis rubbes,
That thei be clene and Parisaunt;
Now is besy eche good seruaunt,
Ther is no man that now is ydel:
Some make redi sadel & bridel,
Some her horses thei let scho;
Eche man lokes what is to do.
¶ Now eche man to fyght him ȝares,
Now euery wiff ffor hir lord cares
A-ȝeyn that nexte semble,
For no man wot how it schal be,—
When thei gon out at morwen-tyde,
Who schal dye, and who schal abyde?
Alle curses that ilke man,
On hem the werre furst by-gan,
Fader and Moder and alle his kyn
For sorwe and wo that thei ben In.
¶ Thre monthes the trewes was tan,
Now are thei passed, and no day wan;
And thei of Troye ben ȝarked ȝare
Out of Troye for to fare;
What folk he hath Ector assays,
With-Inne the walles he hem arays;
Thei were arayed, er hit were prime.
Dares says: he hadde that tyme
¶ Hic ordinant prelium Magnum.
Off knyȝtes strong an hundred thousand
That douȝti were and wel fightand,
With-outen ȝemen and sqwyeres,
With-outen bribours and arblasteres,
With-outen men that were on fote—
So god do my soule bote!
ECtor then partied his men:
To Troyle he tauȝt thousandes ten
Off douȝti knyȝtes In his ledyng;
He prayed: 'his god be his spedyng,
And be his help and his gouernayle,
And spede hem wel in that batayle,
That him that day be-tyd not mys!'
¶ He called to him then Paris,
With louely wordes he him be-tauȝt
Alle that coude on bowe-drauȝt,
And alle that bare arwe or bire
Be-tauȝt he hem In here A-tire;
Thre thousand knyȝtes that mechel were worth
Off douȝti men called he forth,
Armed wel opon here stedes,
To be with hem In al here nedes,
Fro men of armes hem to rescouere,
For thei were most with-oute Armure.
¶ Then come Dephebus and Eueas,
Ayther of hem her batayle has:
Thre thousand knyȝtes Dephebus ledis,
Armed wele In iren wedes;
But Eueas brynges with him wel mo;
Than be-gan thei for to go.
¶ Ector has with him ffyftene
Thousandes knyȝtes gode and clene,
To him-seluen that were reserued;
Euery an ost is dight and serued;
With his batayle passed the ȝates,
Assayle he[m] furst he wole algates.
AWorthi kyng of Grece, Phillus,
Was In the feld redy by this,
With many a man on horse and fote,—
To telle the nombre it is no bote;—
The ffersteMS. ferthe. batayle that day he ledde,
Him hadde be better that he ne hadde.
Menelaus come afftir that
With spere & scheld and many a bat,
Douȝti knyȝtes thousandes seuene—
Here names alle can I not neuene:
¶ Thei toke the feld and passed the boundes
On stedes that were worth many poundes.
Diomedes with as fele
Knyȝtes of worschepe and of wele
Ȝede forth afftir to that stour;
Hem liked wel her gouernour.
¶ Now goth to ffyght Diomedes,
And afftir him comes sir Achilles
With douȝti knyȝtes seuen thousand,
With briȝt bryneis fair schynand.
Thei rode to-gedur wel sare,
Many a stalworthe knyȝt thare.
Affter him come Xancipus,
And Ayax Thelamanyus,
Agamenon with alle his ost,
With many a knyȝt ridande a-cost;
The nombre was gret that come with him
Off hardy knyȝtes stoute and grym;
Ther was many on that Ector thret,
That bouȝt thei sore, when thei met.
¶ The sonne schynes on euery a tre,
Hit is a fair matyne:
ECtor is out of Troie reden,
The Gregeis longe hath he a-byden,
Affter hem on horse he houe:
Who-so-euer come furst, he wolde aproue.
Many an ost saw he comyng,
Rydande faste whil thei may fflyng,
With baneres brode and gold-be-gon;
The sonne on hem wel faire schon.
And many an armes was ther reuersed;
Iff on bare sable hit was diuersed:
¶ He bar of gold and of goules,
He bare bestes and he bare foules,
He bare apes and he bar cheuronneMS. chueronne.,
And he of siluer with a cloue chestone,
He bare a bend and he an horne,
He bare his corneres gerone,
He beres grene and he asure,
Engreled with a fair bordure,
¶ He beres an egle and he merelettisMS. more lectis; but it seems to be the earlier form of 'martlets.',
And he a daunce and he pelettisMS. perelectis; the stroke through the tail of p seems to be a scribal error.,
And he hath rose & he has molettis,
And he hermyn and he croselettis.
And thus haue thei her armes schiffted,
Ther baneres are wel hye lyffted;
Euery a lord his baneroure
Biddis him go be-fore the stoure.
NOw are the Gregeis and alle of Troye
Arayed In the feld and haldes hem coye;
The formast ost assembled ner
A wonder noyse that men may her
Off staves & swordes and speres brekyng
With-oute wordes or any spekyng.
A-ȝeyn Ector and his Troiance
Ther were In the feld that tyme of DanesSignature in the right corner: R.,
¶ Hic Ector occidit Phillum RegemThis rubric is the head-line of lf. 129, bk..
Off men of Grece knyȝtes bold
Horsed mo then the double-fold.
Phillis spredis bank and hirste,
With mochel folk come he doun ffirste:
¶ The Troiens first Phillus assayled,
But with Ector euel he was hayled:
Ector loked and saw Phillis
Come ridande before alle his,
Armed wel and gloriosly;
He rod to him dispitosly,
He smot him thorow his doublet,
Ryght as it hadde ben an net;
He hadde non Armes non so gode,
That his stroke that tyme with-stode:
He bare him thorow bak and bely,
Ther-of hadde many a man sely;
Phillis fel to grounde al flat
As a ded body, when he hadde that.
¶ Off Phillis deth was michel cry,
Many a sword was houen an hy,
Off Phillis deth thei toke veniaunce:
Ther was broken many a launce,
Many an hed was thanne y-craked,
And many a scheld al to-schaked,
Schankes to-schyuered, bones y-broken,
On Ector wolde thei fayn be wroken.
¶ When Xancipus that noyse herde,
He wist wel that som mysferde
Off hem of Grece that were fyghtand,
With alle his men thedir drawand
. . . . .A line is wanting here, but no room left; but see note 2.
And as he come thedirward,
A wounded knyȝ brouȝt him tythand,
That Phillus was ded of Ector handHic caret ℣ (i.e. hic caret versus) is inserted under this line in the margin by another hand; cf. note 1. Space is left for a line..
¶ Hic Ector occidit Xancipum Regem.
¶ Phillus was that kynges Eme:
He stode as he hadde ben In dreme,
He honged his heued as he hadde dremed,
As he hadde died for sorwe hit semed;
He made for him gret wayment,
He rod forth ful of mautalent
To that batayle on his stede,
To venge his deth, if he myght spede.
¶ He felde Troyens at his comyng
And sclow hem doun old and ȝyng,
He ferde as man that hadde ben wode,
So he distroyed the Troyens blode;
To seche Ector wold he not blynne,
Til he him fond, he is vnwynne;
He fond Ector among the pres:
To scle the Gregais wold he not ses,
As hongreMS. honger. lyoun bestes vories;
Ther nis no tre so thikke of chiries,
As Gregeis ligge aboute him couched,
All ȝede to grounde that he out touched.
WHen Xancipus of him hadde sight,
He wende he scholde haue made him lyght:
He toke to him a stalworthe spere,
Ector vnwarned doun to bere;
But sicurliche he myȝt nouȝt:
Xancipus that strok a-bouȝt.
¶ Ector to him was wrothe y-now,
To Xancipus a strok he drow
In his wodenes & In his wratthe,
That he fel ded doun In that patthe;
His hed ȝede doun, & vp his breke,
The grounde sone gan he seke.
Thei toke him vp & went homward
With gret care and sikyng hardSignature in the right corner: R..
¶ Achilles come thenne ffast ridande
As a deuel with foule semblande,
With alle the knyȝtes that he ledde
A-boute Ector he hem spredde:
Ther was gret noyse and clamour,
The Gregeis for tene turned colour,
That he was ded so reufully;
Thei sclow thenne Troyens carefully.
¶ Troyens be-gan to faile faste,
Thei myȝt not wel lengur laste,
So were Gregeis manye and stronge,
The Troyens than a-bacward thei thronge.
BVt Ector stode a-mong hem alle:
He sclow Gregeis and made hem to falle,
He droff a-bak bothe ȝonge & olde,
And made the Troiens her place to holde.
Troiens abode In gret perel,
In many stedis to dethe thei fel,
So thei werei thei be-gan to go.
Achilles thanne be-gan to sclo
The Troiens, faste he hem rebukes,
He sclow of Troiens two gode dukes:
¶ That on was duke Euforbius,
A noble knyȝt and a vertuus;
That other hight duk Lataoun,
A gentil lord, a stalworth man.
Thei were men of gret vertuse,
Doughti, strong, and [of] prouese.
It was wonder thei myȝt a-byde,
The Troiens were so fewe that tyde,
That thei nade ben alle quelled,
Hit was gret wonder how thei dwelled.
¶ But Ector held euere the felde,
He ȝaff of hem alle nouȝt a neldeMS. nouȝt alle anelde.;
The while that he hadde his hele,
Ther he sclow Gregeys as vn-vele,
And Mayntend wel that stour
With gret trauayle and labour.
THe stour was strong, thei blew & blustred,
A-boute Ector the Gregeis clustred
Ryght as thei drow aboute a swarm,
He toke of hem that tyme gret harm:
Some dartes at him sclong,
Some with swordes at him flong,
Thei ȝede him a-boute and made hote,
Many a man on him ther smot;
And he ȝaff hem aȝeyn suche pattis,
That thei fel doun as dede cattis.
¶ But not-for-thi so it be-fell,
That he was hurt at that turpell,
But he wiste neuere vnnethe of wham,
Ne how, ne whenne that it cam?
In his visage was he smetyn—
As I fynde of him ywreten,—
That blod ran out gret plente,
That hit was meruayle for to se:
It bled faste as it were wode,
Vnto the ground ran the blode,
Ouer his eyen the blod so ran,
That he myȝt knowe wel no man.
¶ The Troiens then that gan se,
A-weyward faste gan thei fle;
Thei were a-ferd and discomfit,
When thei saw Ector so dyght.
Ector was ful lothe to fle,
Iff it myȝt any other be;
But he was dreven bacward streght,
For he myȝt not se to ffyghtIn the right corner the signature: R.:
Hadde not his visage ben reuen,
He nad not ben bakward dreuen;
He fauȝt a-ȝeyn with mychel pyne,
But whan he lyfft vpward his eyne
Toward Troye and se ther stande
Opon the walles to hem lokande
¶ Hectuba that gentil quene,
And his suster Pollexene,
And his wiff dame Andromede,
And hende Eleyn so fair In wede,
And saw Gregeis him bakward dryue:
'Alas!' he sayde, 'I am on lyue!
I wolde I were with-outen lyff!
I se be-fore me stonde my wiff
And alle these other faire ladyes,
And beholden bothe parties
And haue be-holded alle oure dedes;
And for my visage a littil bledes,
¶ Thei se now me on bak be-set,
Mi vylony it wol be ret.
What may thei wene but I be faynt,
Fals of herte, and a-taynt,
Or of the dethe that I haue drede,
That I thus fle for that I blede?
But be him that made alle thyng,
Tre to growe and gras to spryng!
I schal hem quyte her trauayle,
Iff that I be hole and hayle.
¶ Out of this ffeld I schal not wende,
Or I be venged with my hendeMS. honde.
Off this schame and vilonye,
For therfore schal many dye.'
Ther is no man that euere was wroght
May say that schame that Ector thoght,
When he vpon the ladyes loked;
It was meruayle so his body croked,
He swat for tene, for wratthe he schoke,
That he that schame be-fore hem toke;
Some of hem her deth schal take,
Er it be nyȝt, for that wounde sake.
¶ Ector be-held how kyng Mennon
How the Troiens fast vpon,
As man that were out of his wit;
He vowed to god: "it scholde be quyt
Alle the harm that he hadde don
To him and his, er it were non."
'Thow hast,' he seide, 'my men defouled,
Me and myne bakward retroyled;
¶ Sithen thow dos harm, thow schalt haue some:
Were the fro me, for now I come!'
Ector rod to Mennon than
And brake his hede and his pan,
That of [his] hede ran blod y-wys,—
That were euel for Mennon this:
A man schuld not so sone say "trayse,"For disorder of MS. at this place of. Introduction.
As he fel ded & held his payse,
That neuere so moche that he ones quycched
Ne his lymes ones clecched.
¶ Achilles hadde than sorwe y-now,
When he saw how Ector sclow
The kyng Mennon, his cosyn dere;
A lothely cry men myȝt then here
That thei of Grece among hem made,
When thei saw Mennon ded & fade.
His tethe for tene Achilles gnastrid:
'Many a gode,' he sayde, 'hastow maystrid
And ouercomen with thi prowesse,
And sclayn fele In thi wodenesse.
¶ Ther may no-thyng me to Ioye brynge,
Til I se the at thyn endynge.'
A stalworth spere off wonder tre—
That was gretter than other thre—
Achilles toke to him tho,
For he thoght Ector to sclo:
¶ He smot Ector with al his mayn,
For he wolde him fayn haue slayn;
Thorow his scheld his spere droffMS. to roff.,
That his hauberk al to-roff,
And depe In-to his fflesch it ran,
That the blod fast out span.
¶ But ȝet he bar not Ector doun
For his prise and his renoun,
Ȝet he hadde no spere that tyde
That he myght aȝeyn him ride.
Achilles spere in-sonder barst,
But Ector was not doun castIn the right corner the signature: Q.:
¶ Hic Ector & Achilles pugnaueruntThis rubric is head-line of lf. 123, bk..
He held his hors & sat ston-stille,—
Achilles myȝt [him] not kylle,—
That strok abode he hertly
And smot to him a-ȝeyn smartly:
¶ Opon his hed he leyde suche dyntes,
That helm and Coyfe brast al In splyntes,
The blod brast out at his eris.
Hadde he laste longe In his wode geris,
Achilles hadde ȝeuen vp his dische,
Hadde he neuere eten flesche ne fische
He myȝt not the strokes susteyne,
But held his hors with mechel payne,
That he fel not doun at ilke a braid,
With euery strok that Ector layd
Opon his hede, so sete thai sore,
With mechel strengthe his myȝt thai wore.
¶ On euery a side Achilles schakes
With euery a strok that he ther takes,
Now be-fore and now be-hynde,
As levis wagges with the wynde.
ECtor saw Achilles wagge
As with the wynd doth the flagge,
On euery a side he louted lowe,
He was In poynt to ouer-throwe
With eche a strok that he ther toke,
Out of his sadel almost he schoke,
He myȝt not sitte stille In pes.
Then seyde Ector: 'Achilles!MS. Achilles Achilles.
Achilles!' Ector seyde he,
¶ 'Whi coueytes thow to fight with me?
When thow sese tyme, on me thow sekes.
I trowe right wel that thi hed akes;
I schal the sclo, hadde I layser;
Ne scholde of thin ost kyng ne Cayser
¶ Ad huc bellumThis rubric is head-line of lf. 124..
By heuen tyde thi lyff scholde saue,
That thow of me thi deth schuld haue.'
¶ Achilles myght him not answere,
For thenne come Troyle with many spere,
With many spere and many a darte,
And made him and Ector departe:
Troyle rod euen be-twene hem two,
For he Achilles thought for-do.
A wonder stoure ther was by-gonnen,
Er man myȝt a forlong haue ronnen,
¶ Ther were ffyue hundred knyȝtes sclayn
Off hem of Grece opon the playn;
Thei hadde but litel to-geder streuen,
Er thei of Grece were bacward dreuen.
But Menelaus, when he beheld
How thei of Grece had lorn the feld,
Opon his stede the kyng him dresses,
To Troiens euen he him gesses;
He lased his helm, his spere he riȝtes,
And rides thedir with alle his knyȝtes.
HE halp hem wel and wan hem erthe,
He felde the thridde & sclow the ferthe;
He and his bare Troiens ouer,
And hem of Grece made hem couer
And tok the feld the Troiens opon.
But then come thedir kyng Odemon
Out of Troye with mechel ffolk,
He spared neyther the appul ne the colk,
Vn-til he come to [the] Melle:
Many a man then myȝt thei se
¶ Set vp the fet and doun the hed,
And many lefft among hem ded.
To Menelaus Odomoun rode,
And Menelaus him abodeIn the right corner of this page is the signature: Q iiij.;
But Odemoun, that doughti kyng,
Toke Menelaus In that swyng
And him bare ouer his hors tayl:
He ȝaff him there suche a wassail,
That he lay longe In colde swot;
Odemoun on his face smot
And wounded him among alle hyse,
That he myȝt not wel vp aryse.
ODemoun ffelle Menelaus,
And that be-held douȝti Troylus:
He saw the kyng on grounde lyand,
Troyle come faste thedur ridand,
He wolde him take wonder ffayn,
That he myȝt haue lad him to Elayn;
He departid alle the route,
He and Odemoun were aboute
To take the kyng, and so the[i] did.
But not[-for-]thi it so be-tid,
That thei that tyme so wel not sped,
Out of that pres thei him not led:
¶ For ther was then so mychel pres—
For-thi be-gan than to encres,—
So fele batayles a-boute him spred,
That thei were sone with hem so sted,
Thei myȝt not lede fro hem not ferre
For al here myȝt and her powere.
¶ For than come Diomedes doun
With many a worthi bold baroun
And many a knyȝt douȝti In dede:
When thei saw Troyle a-weyward lede
Menelaus her ost outward,
Thei hyed hem faste thedirward.
Whan he come ner, he stroke his stede,
That he made bothe his sides blede:
I trowe ther was neuere wilde ro
That ran faster then his stede tho.
¶ He strok Troiluslus on erasure. so wonder sore,
That fro his hors fel he doun thore;
And ther-fore was it no pris:
He hadde a spere at his deuys,
And Troyle that tyme hadde non;
Thoow he hadde broke bak and bon,
Me thynke it hadde ben litel wonder,
Off Troyle lay his hors fete vnder.
He toke his hors and lad a-way,
He sente it to the semely may,
¶ Vn-til Cresseide, þatVn—þat on erasure by another hand. fair womman,
That sumtyme was Troyle lemman:
A bischopis douȝter that het Calcas,
That sumtyme byschop In Troye was,
Her mayster-byschop of the lawe;
But he was ferd of that sawe,
That ther god saynt Appollo
In Delos yle had sayd him toMS. so.:
HE sayde: "that Troye scholde be distroyed."
He was therfore ful soreMS. fulsore. anoyed,
He durst not wende to Troye aȝeyn
For fferd he scholde haue ben sclayn:
He dwelled stille with the Gregeis
A-mong her ost—as Dares sais,—
Or elles to lese his lyff he wende.
Afftir his doughter theder he sende:
¶ He prayed the kyng Diomedes
In here Message and Vlixes,
When thei delyuered the kyng Thoas
For the ffader of Polydamas,
That thei wolde preye kyng Priamus
To sende hir him ffro sir Troylus:
¶ Priamus graunted her prayeres
And sent hir hom with-oute dangeres.
And Diomedes loued here sithen;
In hir loue was he so writhen,
That he myght not his wille refrayn
And suffred for hir sithen payn.
To hir therfore Troylus stede he send
In token of loue and to presend.
OPon the grounde ther he lay,
His stede was taken & lad away;
Wo was him that it was so!
But he ne myȝt not do ther-to:
But he ros vp and drow his blade
And rome aboute him he made,
¶ He sclow Gregeis with al his myȝt.
Ector ȝaff to him wel gode syȝt,
He saw him wel to grounde go,
His stede ytaken and lad him fro;
He was ney wod for ire and tene:
He wolde meruayle, that had sene
What wonder that Ector wroght!
Many a man that stede dere boght;
¶ He drow hem doun, as men doth dere
In wilde wodis to lordis lardere:
Thei fled away, as thei were wode;
Ther was no man that lenger stode,
Off here lyues hadde theiMS. thei no. gret doute.
Achilles fledde with alle his route,
And so did alle these other Gregais,
Than folued Ector and his Frigais:
¶ But Ector euere afftir dryues,
Many of hem he reues the lyues,
He droff hem home riȝt to here hales
And sclow hem ther riȝt In her sales;
He smot of bothe hondes & nayles,
Ne durst no man aske "what him ayles,"
Ne speke with him In that Ire
For al the gode of here Empire!
He hadde be ded and vndoyng,
Hadde thei sayd any thyng.
The Grekes were in point of vndoyngThis whole line by another hand on erasure.:For disorder of MS. cf. Introduction.
Ne hadde ther comen ther riche kyng,
That riche kyng her Emperour,
Agamenon, to here socour,—
Schuld neuere haue passed no Dane,
Ne haue ben lengur in þatin þat inserted over line by another hand. wane.
The peple was gret he with him brouȝt,
On hem of Troye ful harde thei souȝt;
¶ Thei were ffresche and al day rested,
Thei drow here swerdes; whan thei brested
Here stalworthe speres opon the Troians,
Thei droff a-bakMS. a blak. the Dordanes
With strengthe of men vnto her dikes.
Ector thenne aboute ffrikes,
Ther were thikkere aboute him men
Then bestis In somer liggis In fen;
He smytes of legges and lendis.
Vnnethe ther is any manMS. men. defendis,
That thei nere sclayn and ouercomen
For Gregeis that ouer hem were ronnen.
But then come thedur Polydomas,
That ȝit In Troye al ffresch was,
With wonder mychel quantite
Off knyȝtes, of men of gret surte.
POlydomas a spere hath lauȝt
With al the ost him was be-tauȝt
Out of Troye is he no ryden:
His men hath he prayed & bidden
To help wel Ector In that stoure,
That thei myȝt haue for here labour
Off Ector bothe loue and thonk;
He rides forth by brynke & bonk
To assaut with that abuschement.
Now are thei alle out of Troye went
And comen alle to that semble
With stour sembland & gret ferte:
Thei bresten here speres and drow her swerdes
And beten on hem, as don herdes
On weri bestis that drow In the plow;
Ther was amonges hem sorwe ynow.
¶ But Diomedes he beholdes
Polydomas, how that he boldesThe last four letters by another hand on erasure.
ThemMS. Then. of Troye with his sokeryng,
And deres Gregeis with his fyghtyng
And the feld make hem lese:
A stalworth spere to him doth chese
Polydomas ouer to bere,
That the Gregeis schuld not dere.
¶ Polydomas was wel perceyued
Off his comyng, he him wayued
And toke a spere stalworth & strong
And met him so In that forlong,
¶ Ad huc magnum bellum.
That he ȝede doun & his hors bothe,
Were he ther-of neuere so wrothe.
¶ Diomedes ful sore was hurt,
But his stede ros, and he vp stert;
Polydomas ther-of was fayn,
He toke the stede by the rayn,
A-boute his hand the brydel he knyt
And ȝaff him Troyle, ther he fauȝt ȝit
Opon his feet with his enmys;
Ther was no foule so merye on ris,
¶ Then Troilus was when he hors hadde;
Lord In heuene, what he was gladde!
He takes that stede and sone on lepes,
And sclow the Gregeis doun on hepes.
BVt Achilles loked to Troyle,
And saw how he be-gan to royle,
When he hadde hors, a-monges Gregeis:
'This is no gamen,' Achilles seis;
Achilles rod to him sone,
For he wende wele he hadde done.
¶ But Troyle was war of his comyng,
He ȝaff riȝt not of his thretyng:
A stalworthe spere he to him sesed,
And smot his hors and him so fesed,
He bar Achilles quyte and clene
Out of his sadel vpon the grene;
He made Achilles to reste thore,
So was he wounded wonder sore,
¶ He made his eres the grounde likke.
But he ros vp stoutly and quykke,
As he no harm hadde y-lacched;
Troyle wold with more haue macched,
He wolde haue hurt him fayn sarror,
But the Gregeis held him then forror,
To Achilles he myȝt come noght,
For-sothe to him, as he hadde thoght.
AChilles is vpward cropen,
Opon his hors he is lopen:
Him were leuere than al Lubik,
That he myȝt Troyle to dethe strike;
He and his smot at him alle,
As men smeten atte balle.
¶ But Ector was ther-of war,
How thei be-gan with Troyle to fare;
He hied him thedir wonder swythe,
When Troyle saw him, he was blythe:
He ȝaff Achilles suche a dasche,
That al his helm be-gan to crasche,
He smot In-to his serkelet.
Now are thei to-geder met
Among her men hem two alone,
Thei delen dyntis wel gode wone;
Be-twene hem two was gret hate,
Thei haue be-gonnen a gret bate:
¶ Eyther on other be-gan to hewe,
Here strengthe to kythe, her myȝt to schewe,
Dredful dyntis be-twene hem dele;
He is a fole, with hem wol mele!
Thei are now bothe on hors-backis,
Ether of hem on other hackis
With swerdes scharpe opon her scheld;
A strong batayle was ther In feld.
¶ Here Aketouns roff as hadde ben pokes,
Ayther of hem on other strokis,
And tar here armes that were newe,
A wicked brotthe thei ther brewe;
With swerdes gode that were trenchaunt
Fauȝt thei to-gedur by that hil pendaunt.The E in blue paint.
ECtor fightes with Achilles,
He hewys his mayles res by res,
He hewys hem alle In taterwagges,
His hauberk heng alle In ragges;
And he ȝeues him a-ȝeyn good pay,
The grettest strokes that he may.
¶ But Ector ȝaff Achilles one
And claff his flesch on-to the bone,
Hit barst his helme & his coyfe eke,
And it made him the grounde seke:
The stroke was gret—as I ȝow tolde,—
Achilles myȝt not his sadel holde,
Opon his hors myȝt he not sitte,
When sir Ector hadde him so hitte.
¶ He lefft his hors and fel to grounde
And swoned sore In that stounde;
Top ouer tayl he gan loute.
The Gregeis gadered him aboute,
His Murmidones were alle agast
He hadde be sclayn, for he was cast;
Thei stode aboute him alle fyghtande,
For Ector scholde not come him hande,
Til he were rysen & vpward couered:
Many a man aboute him houered,
His body al for to fende,
That Ector schold not come him hende.
¶ Then myȝt men se strokes ride,
Gregeis feld on eche a syde
That thedir come In his defence,
For thei made ther thanne resistence
A-ȝeyns Ector & his Troians:
He sclow that tyme a thousand Danes
That then defended sir Achilles,
Many on swalt In his owne gres.
¶ Ector wolde Achilles take,
And the Gregeis defence did make:
Thei wolde rather dye right ther,
Then Achilles I-take wer.
Achilles stode on fote & fauȝt,
Til he was almost out of mauȝt:
¶ He was careful and wel drery,
For that he was so wery,
He myȝt not wel his scheld vp bere,
He myȝt not him fro Ector were,
He myȝt not wel his breth blowe,
He was In poynt to ouer-throwe;
His vertu hadde he clene lore,
But Ector wolde not lette ther-fore.
¶ But than come thedir Thelamon,
With alle his men Agamenon,
And the douȝti Menescens:
That halp him wel a-ȝeyn Troyens,
With mychel wo and gret trauayle
Halp thei him In that batayle.
¶ Thei brouȝt him hors, and brouȝt him vp,
He hadde lauȝt many a pop,
For ther was many a strok ȝeuen;—
But it was welney euen.
ECtor was sori that it was nyȝt,
Er thei of Grece were discomfit:
For hadde thei had the lyght of day,
Achilles hadde not went a-way
To [be] taken then vnto his teld,
But hadde died In that feld.
Thei departid on bothe side—
For it was nyȝt and derk that tyde,—
¶ Ector to Troye ouer the downes,
And Gregeis to here Pauylones.
The clothis were layd, and thei doun lyght:
To soper were thei alle dyght,
Thei sette hem doun and ete & drank;
Many hadde his clothis al blank
Off blod that thei hadde bled.
Thei ete and drank & ȝede to bed,
And rested hem, til the sonne vp ros:
To Arme him there eche man gos,
¶ The stour a-ȝeyn wolde thei be-gynne,
For good on erthe wol thei not blynne;
Her hors are brouȝt, and thei vp lepe,
Thei ren to-gedre on an hepe,
As thei hadde don that day be-fore;
Ther died be-twene hem many a score.
BOthe parties In the feld were prest,
In pees wol thei neuere rest;
Eche man rides vnto his macche,
Many a man here deth there lacche.
Whan thei to-gedre were met with speres,
Many on other ouer beres;
Thei drow here swerdes of good metal;
Er it be nyȝt, manye dye schal.
Echon onMS. or. other ffaste doth bete,
Ryght as threscheres doth on whete;
On smytes his felawe thorow the pap,
And he ȝeues him a sori wap.
¶ Thei sclow or euen a thousand knyghtes,
Men saw neuere suche other fyghtes—
Sithen In erthe god made man,—
That of so litel thing be-gan!
Ne so fele lordes with-outen fayle
Were neuere sclayn at on batayle,
Ne men of Armes and also naked,
As were at Troye—sithen man was maked!
¶ Hic pugnant .xxx. dies absque respectu.
Some were smyten of by the knes,
Some thorow-out bothe thies,
Some lay dede, & som cast doun,
And some lay wounded and brostoun;
Some In his body bar a tronchoun,
As it were put In with a ponchoun.
The while thei myghten endure,
Thei threw doun men—I telle ȝow sure,—
Thei smyten hors and helmes barst,
The while the brethe wold hem last.
MIchel sorwe hem was a-mong;
Sicurly hit were to long
Me to telle, and ȝow to here,
How thei ffauȝt echon In-fere,
I may not al the dedis devyse;
Ther wolde no boke it al suffise
Alle here dedis for to holde,
Iff thai schulde alle be y-tolde,
And I schulde alle here dedis say,
How thei fauȝt to-geder euery day.
The bible ne no Missale,
The legende ne no Iornale,
The Grael ne the Tropere,
Schold not holde here dedis plenere.
¶ For .xxx.ti dayes with-outen pes
Thei fauȝt to-gedur with-outen ses,
Al was sprad bothe diche and bank
With dede bodies that lay & stank.
Men redes In gestes of douȝti men,
How thei fouȝten to-geder dayes ten,—
Euery day with-outen rest,—
To se whiche of hem were best;
Men tellen of Ywayn and Wade
In gestes that of hem ben made,
How thei fauȝt a day or two,
And afftir that more than so:
Thei ffauȝt ffourtene nyght,
And that was kampiouns right.
¶ But I say: Ector and his feris,
Achilles als & his comperis,
Thei fauȝt to-geder dayes thre,
And wold thei not in pes be;
Thei fauȝt to-gedir fourtene nyght,
And that was the Troiens right;
With-outen rest thei fauȝt al-weyes,
Til thei hadden fouȝten .xxx.ti dayes—
Euery day til it was nyȝt,
That neuere be-lan whil thei hadde lyght.
¶ Now wol I of this thing telle,
I may not alle here dedis melle;
For mochel wo be-twene hem wex:
Off Ector brethere were sclayn sex
With-In the dayes that thei so fauȝt,
And Ector also a sore wounde lauȝt
In his visage on of that day,
Wherby Ector In his bed lay
In Ylion a ful gret stounde,
Er he were hol of that wounde.
THretti dayes when he hadde foughten
With-outen reste bothe euen & oughten,
Priamus sente to the Gregeis
Kynges two that were curtays,
And other lordes mo wente hem with,
Trewe to aske a six monyth.
And thei it graunte al at her wille,
Thei were fayn to holde hem stille
And rest In pes al that terme;
The trewes is graunt and holden ferme,
¶ Hic ceperunt pacem ad inuicem per vj. Menses.
And therto haue thei trowthes plyght:
"That nother of hem be dayes ne nyght
Lastynge the trewes schal other wayte
With vilonye ne other desayte;
And if any man be gylti founden,
Hand and fote schal he be bounden,
On galowe-tre to honge hye
For his ffalshede and his folye."
¶ The trewes be graunt a ful half ȝere
Be-twene kynges, dukes, & bachelere,
Alle that on bothe sides wore:
Now euery man helis his sore,
Alle taken medycine that myster hade,
To reste that while alle were glade.
And Ector is to Ilion brouȝt,
A riche bed ffor him was wrouȝt,
He was leyd In that paleis,
That was of riche werk Sarsaneis;
¶ His bed was made In that riche halle
And y-couered with many riche palle:
To him come fycisiens,
The beste of alle Troyens,
And soughte his woundes on eche halue,
And leyde ther-to plastres & salue,
And ȝaff him herbes & gode raysyns,
And heled him vp with gode medysyns.
IN Ilyon Ector was layd
In that riche halle—as I sayd;—
For alle these lordes & the ladyes,
That were of worschepe and of pris,
Scholde him comforte In his penaunce
And with the speche do him legaunce
And of his Angwis and his sekenesse,
To come to him bothe more & lesse.
Hit was an halle of gret noblay, AulaIn red paint..
The halle ther-as Ector lay;
The toures were of out-done hight,
I-made with wonder art and slight.
If thow wolt that halle discryue,
Sicurly ȝe wolde not leue
The wonder werk of the Pyleres;
Men wolde holde hem grete lyeres,
Man wolde wene that men did lye,
And holde it alle for fairie.
¶ But man wolde wene In his thoght,
That suche werk myght neuere be wroght;
For now is non so glorious,
Ne non In this world so vertuous,
As Ilion was the while it stode,
I-set ful of stones and perles gode;
Rofe and wal and euery a gable,
Dore and wyndowe, trestles and table,
Courbel, beme, and euery a ston,
With riche gold was vmbygon.
¶ Alle the walles of that wones
Were thikke y-set with precious stones;
A thousand rubies on a rowe
Were set a-bouen on the wowe.
Ther stode a-long & eke a-crois
Many a riche erbe-debois;
The matistre and a riche saphur,
And other stones many & sur;
Ther stode many a charbocle-ston,
That as bryȝt aboute hem schon
In that halle aboute mydnyght,
As doth the somerday lyght.
That halle was brode & long,
Off semely werk sicur & strong,
¶ Qualiter palacium Regis Troiani factum est.
Two hundred fet was it be-met.
On stones twelue was hit al set
Off Alabaster that wele were wrouȝt,
It was gret meruayle how thei were bouȝt
Vnto that werk to rayse that ground,
It was meruayle where men thei found.
¶ He was worthi be called a clerk,
That of twelue stones made suche a werk.
The halle flore was paued al
Thorowout with clene cristal;
In euery a hirne was set a post
Off worthi werk with mychel cost;
On euery a post stode an ymage
As he hadde ben In fauntel-age;
Alle were wrouȝt of gold ffyn,
Hede, body, visage, and eyn.
¶ Ther was no manMS. noman. In al that land
That he ne wende thei hadde ben lyuand:
So vereili thei loked and smyled,
Many a man ther-with was giled;
Off here makyng and of here lokes
Many meruayles In his bokis.
DAres wrot—I telle it ȝow,—
That I wol not speke of now:
"The walles of that halle streyȝt
Were two thousand fet of heyȝt,¶ Altitudo MurorumIn one line, sign blue, words red; but on the left side in MS..
And ȝit ther-to ffyue hundrid als,"—
As Dares seis that neuere was fals.
¶ Dares seis: "the toures were so hy,
That thei wente to the sky,
So ney were thei the firmament
A-boue the cloudes verament,
A man that stode with-oute doute
On hem, myȝt se al the lond aboute,
And other londes a-cost also
On euery a side, that marches ther-to."
¶ Then were thei hye verament,
Thei hadde nede of a good fundement;
Euery a ston of Marbil was
As smethe as any glas,
Euery a ston was smethe schauen.
The walles were with bestes grauen,
Ther was no best In wildernes,
Forest, ne feld, more ne les,
That thei ne were ther wele entayled,
Wilde ne tame non ther fayled.
BEfore the dore was set a tre,¶ Arbor ad hostiumSign in blue, words in red (in two lines thus)..
That fair and semely was to se:
The tre was al of riche gold
Fro the grounde vnto the mold,
And alle the bowes of that erberye
Were siluer & gold with-outen lye;
For euere was on of siluer bryȝt,
A-nother of gold that was so lyȝt.
¶ Ther was neuere fruyt that euere grewe
That thei ne hongen ther In here hewe,
But al wasMS. But al that was. siluer and gold with-Inne.
This werk was mad with quaynte gynne.
In that halle ende was mad his dese,
Richeli made it was alweyes:
¶ Ther was a bord of gret richesse,
In al this world such another ther nesseMS. wesse..
In that other ende of that riche halle,
Wel fair vpright aȝeyn the walle,
He let make a riche auter,
But ther-on was neuere seid no sauter.
And afftir that he sette In that ende
His god Iouys, he held his frende;
For whan he wolde his help craued,
He wende he myȝt him haue saued.
¶ A ffair ymage that kyng did make
Off ffyn gold ffor his goddis sake;
On that auter did he sette hit,
Off pure gold was hit I-bet;
Hit was .xv. cubitis long.
He sette hit there with mochel song,
With ffythel, harpe, and mynstrasie,
With mychel merthe and melodye.
¶ He spende on him gret tresoure,
Certes he loste al his laboure.
He made to him a redy way
Off twenti grecis of marbil gray,
That he & other myȝt come him to,
When that thei wolde him worschepe do.
And thus was maked that riche halle,
As I haue told to ȝow alle.
ECtor liggis In Ilioun;
At his hed sat kyng Menoun
And Hectuba, his Moder, the quene,
So did Eleyne and Pollexene;
That louely lyff dame Andromede
To Ector takes sche gode hede:
Wel tenderly the knyȝt sche ȝemed,
That fair lady that wel be-semed.
¶ Kynges fele a-boute come
And comfort him alle & some
Off his hurtyng & malady,
For his sorwe were thei drery.
Kyng Priamus let bery
With careful herte and no-thyng mury
His sixe sones that died tho dayes,
Euerychon be-sydes other he layes.
¶ Hic Ector sanatus est.
He bad that echon schuld haue
By him-self a riche graue:
Here graues were sone y-made
Bothe with schouele & with spade;
And leyd hem ther-In bothe body & bones,
And heled a-bouen with riche stones.
And so was grauen eche a brother,
A litel echon fro other.
¶ Thei of Grece her riche kynges
Graued also, here lordynges;
And tho that were of lasse renoun
Thei gadered to hepes with-oute the toun
And brende her bodyes alle by-dene,
And made the feld of hem ful clene,
That no stynk of hem schulde rise,
Hem to dere on no wyse.
ECtor heles and coueres faste,
His Angwys almost a-way is paste,
He may bothe go & stande,
In that halle is he walkande;
And alle these other ben ner-honde heled.
Delful dyntis were ther deled,
When thei were heled and comen samen;
Ther by-gynne a grisly gamen:
Many on schal to the dethe wende,
Er thei efft-sones make an ende.
¶ For Ector was fful sore a-greued
That his visage was so cleued;
He het his men for euene or od,
That ther hors be faste y-schod,
And her harneis redi dight,
Her aketoun strong, her brynys bryght;
'That hors ne harneis ȝow not faile
A-ȝeyn the tyme of oure batayle.'
WInter is went—as I wene—
The leues growen In greues grene,
The ffloures sprede & spedly sprynge,
The thrustil sittes & mury synge,
The sonne is hote, the terme goth out.
The Troiens are bothe stiff & stout,
And so ar Danes and eke Gregeis:
Alle ȝare thei ben In here harneis
For to fare & that stoure mayntene,
But thei schal passe with moche tene.
¶ The trewes is passed and alle termened,
And alle ben redy & haue dyned,
Many an helme is set on hede
That long er nyght schal ligge dede;
The ladyes for her lordes caren,
For thei wot neuere how thei schal faren;
Thei made gret mornyng a-mong,
Thei tare hir heer, hir handis wrong.
¶ The lordes hem busked & toke here caples,
Men brynge hem speres of gode maples,
And scheldes stronge thei brynge als,
To honge semely a-boute her hals.
¶ Ector bad thei schulde ride,
Thei wol not lenger here abyde:
Thei riden forth out of the toun
With scheld and spere & gonfanoun.
And thei of Grece were gadered alle
With-oute the diche be-fore the walle,
In-myddis the feld ther standis her stale.
And thei of Troye riden doun a dale,
Til thei mete to-geder bothe;
Two hundred thousand schal be wrothe
Er thei do parte fro her frende,
That schal be sclayn, er thei thennes wende.
NOw are thei bothe In the feld arayed,Adhuc bellumIn the top right corner, in a very fine hand..
Baneres brode ther ben displayed;
On nother side was non so bold
That thei ne be-gynne sone to cold,
Whan thei schal mete thore:
The beste of hem a-bached wore,
Saue Ector on that neuere was ferd;
He ȝeues of hem not a ȝerd,
Off alle her fare, of thai were mo,
For he blan neuere to wende and sclo
¶ Alle he myght mete with & ouer-take;
He be-gynnes a-boute him to make
Wayes to driue In bothe cart & wayn.
Many Gregeis other gan frayn:
"How thei myȝt sclo him ther he rode?"
But ther was non that him a-bode:
He ȝede doun or lost his lyff.
He sclow a thousand In that stryff,
When bothe parties to-gedur were;
Many a man died there.
¶ Ther was gret del to se hem mete,
So fele fel doun vndir hors fete,
That neuere myȝt afftirward arise,
Thei made a schrewed marchaundise:
Eche slo other, as thei were wode,
Thei made no ruthe of mannes blode;
Some is cloven In-to the shere,
Some has lorn bothe cheke & ere,
Some hath lorn lyuer & gut,
Was many man ded doun put,
Many hath lorn eye & browe;
Euerychon wolde his frend rescowe,
Than comes he & he also
And girdes his bak euen a-two.
And thus ferd thei fro that thei met,
Til the sonne was doun setMS. pet.;
Thei blan neuere to smyte ne slo,
Many a bak thei made al blo.
ECtor fyghtes with his enemys,
Thorow here ost he rod thris,
Fro man to man a-boute he skyppis,
Thei fel afftir him as hit were shepis:
For siker, sithe erthe by-gan,
Was not made a better man,
That so stronge dedes In Armes did;
Alas that euere him mys-be-tid!
¶ Off man was neuere so moche reuthe,
For he was good & loued trewthe;
Ther was no man that did suche dedis
Off alle the knyȝtes that men of redis,
Ther was neuere man his strok myȝt stande,
That toke a ful stroke of his hande,—
Saue Achilles that strong knyȝt,
For he was man of moche myȝt.—
Ther was no side of al that ost
That he ne rode thorow ffor alle her bost.
¶ He sclow to grounde al that he toke,
The beste of hem for drede quoke,
Thei were alle aferd of that on knyȝt,
For he was man of moche myȝt.
The Gregeis alle his sword knewe,
Many a man to grounde he hewe;
And tho he bar doun or ouer,
Ful ffewe a-ȝeyn ne myght couer,—
Vn-til that lyff so sore he smot.
The sonne schon bryȝt, the day was hot.
¶ Hit greued hem sore of Grece,
Thei sat toterynge as it were gece—
What for the strokes & the hete!
The Gregeis wel sore he gan bete,
He made of hem gret martirdam:
I trowe, sithen god made Adam,
Dud neuere man so gret meruayles,
In fightes fele and gret batayles
He sclow so many grete of renoun,
Armed with helme and hauberioun,
As Ector did his owne hand,
The while he was In erthe lyvand.
¶ Gret voyce was tho hem among,
Swerdis ther on helmes rong,
Many an helme was ther clatered,
And many hede al to-bateredMS. alto batered..
Ector makes of hem grete hepes,
Fro man to man a-boute he lepis;
As thik as leue on the tre
He sles hem doun by two or thre.
Thorow the feld hit is wel sene
In euery stede ther he hath bene,
For it is layd with dede bodies
Thikkere than trees ar set In ris.
¶ He makes a-boute him roume & way.
Achilles wot not what to say,
Offte hath he that day him met,
But he myȝt neuere his proues bet,
Ne he durst not for ferd of gyle
Dele with him that ilke whyle,
And if he scholde not haue grace,
To parte with him out of that place.
THe Gregeis saw this fare was nouȝt
A-ȝeyn the dedis that Ector wrouȝt,
Thei myȝt not y-wis lenger endure,
Thei swalt almost In her Armure;
¶ Hic Greci ffugerunt.
Thei fled euerychon, and that was best,—
The sonne was drawen to his rest,
And that was fair to here be-houe,—
For thei hadde elles euel proue.
The Gregeis fled with michel hast;
Wo was hem that was the last,—
Ector sclow hem In that chace.
Men myȝt ffolwe hem by the trace
Off dede bodyes he lefft ligande,
The Gregeis he sclow fleande.
¶ Achilles was not then the laste,
That he were then he hyed faste;
And Ector faste afftir him prikes,
He drof him home vn-to his dikes
And turned a-ȝeyn—for it was nyȝt,—
He fauȝt lenger than he hadde syȝt:
He rod to Troye with his prisonnes
And lefft hem In her pauylonnes.
ECtor is to Troy riden,
Priamus him hath abiden.
Off his mete and his sopere,
Thei are now set to-geder In-fere,
Thei are wel serued with many metis,
With murthe & play thei sitte In setis:
His fader him makes mochel Ioye,
And so did alle that were In Troye.
¶ The fader blessed offte his sone;
He hadde ther many a benysone
Off lordis faire & fre ladyse,
Of knyȝtes kene and men of pryse.
For ther died mo at that semble,
That Ector sclow at that Iorne
With his hand—as thei seyde alle—
Then alle that euere fre and thralle.
So fele men died then In o day
Off no mannes hond—I dar wel say—
In hard batayle that Armed. were,
As Ector sclow with his hand there;—
He was wel serued, honourd & kepe.
When thei hadde souped, thei wente to slepe
And rest hem, til the sonne vp rose:
Eche man then to arme him gose,
¶ Thei toke her horses & here a-tyre
With swerdes gode aboute here swire,
And ryden forth vpon a res.
Ȝit wol thai not be In pes,
Ten thousand schal her lyff for-sake,
Er thei thenke reste to take.
NOw haue thei taken the feld bothe,
Ful Irrous & Inly wrothe.
Thei are nowMS. not. to-geder met,
Her speres ar broken, and arwes schet,
Thei drowe her swordes of here scauberkes,
Ther cleue scheldes & hauberkes,
The riche armure thei al to-kerue;
Ther schal a thousand er euen sterue:
Echon other al to-drawes,
Thei cutte In-two bothe lyuer & mawes,
¶ Hand & hede, lunge & mylte;
Many a gode man was ther spilte.
Whil thei hadde day & myȝt out se,
Wolde thei neuere In pes be.
Thei fauȝt thus clene dayes twelue,
Til thei hadde nede here dede men delue,
And thei of Grece mouth not ordayn
To fyght for-sothe no more sustayn;
So were thei ouercomen & taken
And with Ector holden wakenAt the foot of the page are some scribblings upside down.,
That thei most rest or elles dye.
It was past afftir the Maye,
The weder was hot, the sonne schon,
The Gregeis made ther-fore gret mone:
For thorow ffight and the hete
Many on lefft that day the swete.
TWelff dayes fauȝt thei to-geder
With-outen rest In that hote weder;
Be-twene hem died many a lord,
Whil thei were at that discord;
Many a lord on ayther syde
Were ded In tho twelue dayes tyde.
The Gregeis myȝt fyght no more,
Thei asked trewes with sikyng sore,
¶ Off xxxti dayes thei faire be-souȝt,
Til the dede were In the erthe brouȝt,
And til that hete were al doun;
For elles hadde thei ben ded echoun:
So gret was thanne the hete In feld,
Thei myȝt not lyue In tent & teld
That wounded were or hurtyng hadde.
A, Priamus! that thow was madde,
When thow the trewes so lyȝtly graunted!
For haddes thow thenne that batayle haunted,
Thei schulde haue died with gret vilte,
With swerd at that gret mortalite!
¶ But ffortune was thi foo mortel
And schop thi wo perpetuel;
And for sche wolde thi blysse were doun,
Sche made the graunte the trewes soun.
For sicur I wot with-outen drede:
The formast day the trewes out ȝede,
That thei to-geder In feld were met,
Her blis & Ioye for euere was let.
¶ Hic Priamus concedit pacem xxx. dies.
PRiamus hath graunted the trewe:
The Gregeis maken murthe & glewe,
Thei were neuere of trewe so blythe;
Thei thanked her god fele sithe,
For thei saued hem by her pauste
Fro that gret mortalite;
Thei maken to him gret offeryng
With many broche & many ryng,
And thanked hem of here dede,
For thei wende efft better spede.
¶ Thei were ful fayn thei were at rest,
For thei ther-of hadde mychel brest,
Thei heled her woundes lesse & more,
That woundes haue or any sore.
So were thei hole or thritti day,
For thenne was the grette hete away,
And thei were styff & stout
To renne & ride al a-bout,
And do al thyng that mister was,
Thei dredde not the Troyens a gras.
¶ Thritti dayes are now ful-filled,
Alas! noble Troye, thow schalt be spilled,
Thrawen doun & ligge al wast,
For thow schalt lese thi lord In hast!
This is the day of thin vnwyn,
Alle may wepe that the ben In,
Kyng and quene that to the longe;
Wele may thow wepe & leue thi songe!
Alle Troiens may say: weylaway!
That euere come this Ilke day!
¶ Alas thi chambres & thi boures,
Thi faire hall and thi toures,
Thi semely ȝates & thi faire walles,
And alle thi crafftly corven balles!
¶ Lamentacio super Troianos.
¶ Fair Ilyon that stondes so hye,
So lowe as thow schalt sone lye!
Suche a Cite was neuere non wrouȝt,
Al schal sone turne to nouȝt;
But thow may say as gode Iob sayde,
When he with sorwe was be-layde:
He cursed the day that he was borne
For wo that was leyd him be-forne,
He bad it turne to derknes
And euere be as thesternes.
¶ And so may thow that day banne,
That the batayle furst be-ganne,
Afftir the trewes was y-past:
Alas, that ne hit hadde lenger last
For Troye that was wel mayntened!
Hadde he that day him abstened,
He scholde haue ben conquerour
Off his enemys with gret honour!
PRiamus, this is the day
That thow schalt lese thi noblay,
Thi mayntenaunce and thi defence,
Thyn honour & thi reuerence!
This day thow leses thi seygnorie,
For gode Ector this day schal dye,
That the defended and thi kynrede,
Thi landes & thi manhede.
¶ Now artow lord of thi landis,
Many a duk byfore the standis,
The hodes offeMS. offte. & bare the heued,—
Sone schal it fro the be reued!
That now bene thyne be trouthe y-plyȝt,
Schal lete of the wel sone ful lyȝt!
The auȝt euere to curse that day,
That fals god now the helpe ne may;
At this nede may he not helpe
No more then may a dogge whelpeMS. wlelpe..
Mochel sorwe was the toward,
When thei of Troye ride out-ward;
And so was also thi faire wyff,
Wherfore scho afftir lase hir lyff;
And Pollexene with-outen gilt
Afftirward therfore was spilt.
¶ A, douȝti Troyle, at euery a dede,
Vn-to that day that thow take hede!
What harme that day to the be-felle!
Thow may telle of thi tenselle,
And say, if thow be riȝt be halwed,
Alas, that euere that day be-dawed—
For to lese that the was leue & dere!
For if he hadde lyued thre ȝere,
Thow haddest ben kyng of many a land
Thorow strengthe of thi brother hand;
For whan he died, ȝe died alle;
Suche hap was to ȝow be-falle.
Allas, lady dame Andromede,
This is the day that thow may drede,
This is the day of thi gret wo,
For thow schal now thi lord for-go!
Thow schal lese the worthiest knyȝt
That euere was wedded to any wyȝt;
For hadde he lyued, thow hadde be quene
Off many a land—& that was sene,—
Thow haddest ben quene of Troye & dame.
But now schal it turne al to schame,
For thow scha[l]t falle In suche maystry,
That the schal lede In vylony,
In sclaunder and In foule schendyng,
Al thi lyff to thyn endyng.
Knyȝtes kene that ben of Troye,
Now make murthe and mochel Ioye;
¶ Alle Are ȝe bold for Ector sake,
Gret is the murthe that ȝe may make,
Ȝe drede no leuynge creature,
So ar ȝe sicur of him & sure.
But ȝit schal ȝe, or sonne go doun,
Alle that are In feld & toun
Sey "alas!" for sorwe & care,
"That day that euere ȝoure moder ȝow bare!"
A, Curteis Citeseyns,
Trewe & triste gode Troiens,
Herde I neuere of no burgeis
That were so hende & so curteis.
Alas! me rewes ȝoure destene,—
That were of ȝoure ȝifftes so fre,
Off noble blod & genterye,
Off gret manhede & curtesye,—
¶ That ȝoure noblay & ȝoure largesse,
Ȝoure curtesye & ȝoure richesse
Schal turne to nouȝt, and ȝe also!
Fals fortune wol ȝow for-do,
For deth has sche y-schaped,
Sche wil no wyse that he be skaped.
And he be ded & fro ȝow gon,
Ȝe ben dede euerychon!
Ȝoure brochis brode & al ȝoure byes
That now ligges In ȝoure tyes,
¶ Ȝoure tresoure & ȝoure florayns
Wol sche dele to knyȝtis & swayns
Off hem of Grece that are ȝoure foos.
This is the day that all goos,
Ȝoure gret noblay & ȝoure seygnorye
Schal turne to dele & waymentrye.
¶ Hic Andromeda vxor Ectoris sompniauit de morte ipsius.
THat louely lyff dame Andromede
The laste nyȝt the trewes out-ȝede,—
That thei schulde ffight afftir the day,—
By her lord In hir bed sche lay:
A dredful dreme that lady dremed,
That In hir sclepe sche cried & scremed.
¶ The while sche was In hir sclepe,
Ector ȝaff to hir good kepe,
Sche was sore & sche was dredful,
To wakyn hir it was nedful;
He waked hir & seide: 'swetyng,
Thow art ful ferd In thi sclepyng.
Whi fares thow thus? what ayles the?
Whi art thow ferd? what may this be?'
'Alas!' seyde sche, 'my gentil lord!
But thow wil do be myn acord,
Sicurly thow ne art but dede,—
But thow wil do afftir my rede,—
And I am lorn for euere also,
And thi louely children two!
For I am sicur be my dreme,
That I am lorn, and thi barne-teme;
And thow art ded with-outen fayle,
If thow this day go to batayle.
¶ For I wot be my drem to-nyȝt:
If thow to-morne gos to fyȝt,
With-oute the deth may thow not passe;
Then may I say for the "alas!
That I was borne!" for care & sorwe.
Be-leue at hom, my lord, to-morwe
And come not there,—I the be-seche!—
To my prayeres thow be my leche,
Be at home, til al be done!
For goddis loue here my bone!'
'FI a deblesMS. b, distinctly, not v; cf. l. 10746.!' seyde the knyȝt,
'Thow art drecched with som euel wyȝt;
Hit is foly and vnsemyng
A man to leue onMS. or. fals dremyng:
Offt are men thorow hem be-swiked,
And so was thow, whan thow scryked.
A man that liggis In sclepe & dremes,
It is not as hit thenne semes
Off alle that euere he sclepande thought;
When he is wakyng, it is nought.
He is a fole that In hem leues
Or any faith vnto hem ȝeues.
¶ Leue thi wordes & thy wepyng
And holde thi pes, hit was sclepyng!
A thousand dremes men may dreme,
And ȝiff he ȝeue to hem gode ȝeme,
He schal not fynde what on be-menes,
For no-thyng falles as it schewes.'
¶ The nyȝt is went, the day dawes:
Ector is wroth with his wyues sawes,
His wyues wordes Ector dispises;
He toke his clothes and vpward rises,
He is wel wroth toward his wiff,
He biddis here vpon hir lyff
"Hir wepyng leue, hir wordes holde,
That sche no more be so bolde
To crye ne wepe ne tales telle
Off thynges that is not worth a schelle."
¶ Gret is the sorwe that sche makes,
Sche wrynges hir hondes, hir hede schakes,
As wyght that was with wo y-wounden
And In bales was sche bounden;
Sche drow hir heer & scratte hir face,
Sche weped & cried and seyde "alace!
That euere schuld sche abide the day!"
Sche wente as sche were wod a-way.
¶ To Hectuba, his moder, sche ran,—
As sche hadde ben a wod womman,—
And to hir suster Pollexene;
Thei wende that sche wod hadde bene,
Thei asked "whi that sche so ferde?"
'For tydandes that I haue herde
And sene also slepyng to-nyȝt,'
Saide Andromede, that bridde bryȝt,
'A dreme for-sothe that not lyes,
That thus mechel signifies:
That, If my lord this day out gange,
On lyue lyues he not lange;
If he this day to batayle go,
His enemys schal or euen him sclo.
A-ȝeyn comes he on lyue no more,
If he go out—be goddis ore!
¶ But thow that bare him of thi sidis
And has for-don the Gregeis pridis—
Off Chiualrie he is the flour,
And thi defence & thi socour,
That saues the & thi housbonde,
Thi tounes, thi toures, & thi londe,
Thi sones & alle thi doughtres als,—
Let him neuere dye of no wyk-hals!
Make him at hom this day to be,
That he come not at that semble!
For be he ded & fro vs went,—
That we were borne schal vs repent!'
HEctuba for ferd & drede
Was ner wod, when Andromede
These tydandes whan sche hir tolde,
For sche wiste neuere, how him to holde,
¶ Hic Andromeda narrauit Regi & Regine.
That he come not at that assaut;
Sche hadde for him ful mychel aut,
Gret sorwe then made the quene;
And so hadde als dame Pollexene.
¶ 'Go we,' sche sayde, 'to the kyng
And telle we him of this tythyng!
For ther is non that so wel may
Make him to be at home to-day.'
These ladyes thenne fair and fre
To Priamus ȝede then alle thre
And grete the kyng—as thei wel couthe—
With louely wordes of thaire mouthe:
'HErkene, sir,' seyde Andromede,
'Mi louely lord, my dreme thow rede!
As I to-nyȝt by my lord lay,
A litel be-fore the spryng of the day
A wonder drem gan I mete,
That doth me thus to me to wete,—
I se qwat it sygnifieth erased after the last word of this line.,—
And do ther-to som remedie,
To make my lord that he go noght
To that stede that he hath thoght.
¶ For sikur! if that he go,
He is lorne, and we also!
Thow schalt [him] neuere with eyen se
Come a-ȝeyn on lyue to the,
For my drem—that is hidous—
Openly be-menes thus:
That if he to-day to batayle ride,
He schal be ded by euen-tyde.'
¶ When Priamus that drem hadde herd,
As he schulde dye, for-sothe he ferd;
The water brast out at his eyen,
Him thoght he myȝt for sorwe dyen,
Him thoght his herte gan to breke;
He stode longe, or he myght speke,
For sorwe & care that he hadde hent,
When he wiste what the dreme ment.
'Whether I schal,' he sayde, 'alas!
Lese my Ioye & my solas,
Mi defence & my socour,
And lede my liff In dishonour,
In wo, & drede, & paynes strong,
And alle that euere vn-to me long,
¶ Scholde I now lese my gode sone?
I schal him helpe, if I cone,
That he this day go not to fyght
On hors ne fote,—by god al-myght!—
That he die neuere for vnhap.
For if he may this on day sckap,
Wele wot I that he schal schende
Alle his fos & saue his frende.
¶ For may he passe his destane,
Conquerour then schal he be
Off his fo-men, thei schal hem ȝelde
To him & his and fle the felde.'
THe sonne be-gynnes on hye to schyne,
Troiens ar alle set to dyne,
Thei ben serued with many a coupe;
Euel schal thei or euen droupe,
For thei schal se or euen ded
The beste body that euere ete bred.
¶ Ector ordeynes his batayles alle,
He biddis hem Troyle to him calle;
And he come to him faste ridande,
With helme on hed & spere In hande,
Armed wel In iren wede.
Ector bad that he scholde lede
¶ Hic incipit Bellum in quo Ector Interfectus fuit.
The formast warde, the furste eschele,
And come a-ȝeyn with Ioye and hele.
¶ He called to him Paris, his brother,
And bad that he scholde lede that other.
Afftir that he called Eueas,—
And he come a ful gode pas,—
He seis: 'Eueas, I the bidde
That thow lede the batayle thridde;
And thow the ferthe, Polydomas,
To helpe him when he nede has.'
¶ The ffiffthe batayle Ector be-tauȝt—
With alle the men that he ther auȝt—
To Sarpedoun, that douȝti kyng,
And other mo In his ledyng.
¶ The sixte ledde kyng Episcropus,
A noble kyng and curtayus,
With many a douȝti bacheler.
Ector bad hem come him ner
A douȝti kyng with visage grym.
The eyght batayle be-tauȝt he him:
He hete Forcius—I vndirstande,—
He bad him lede the ward eyghtande.
¶ The ix. batayle—as I wene—
Be-tauȝt Ector to PhilomeneMS. Pollexene..
A douȝti kyng of gret pouste,
Hardi of hert and gret bounte,
And other kynges that comen wore
In help of Troye, that were thore.
PRyamus the kyng [hem] seygned,
When Ector hadde hem thus ordeyned;
He ȝaff echon to that batayle
Leue to wende, her fos to assayle;
For thei of Grece were comen be than
With-oute her diches, eueryche man,
And redi dight, & hem abode;
And thei of Troye vnto hem rode.
But he bad Ector al on hye,
Heryng alleMS. a̓lle, probably meant for Alle. that were him nye:
"That he ne scholde that day armes bere
Ne entermete him of that were,
But be at hom with him that day—
On his blessyng, & say not nay."
¶ Lord! so he wex wod wroth
Toward his wyff, purful & loth!
When his ffader Priamus
Be-fore hem Alle hadde bidden him thus:
Ful vilensly his wyff he chidde
For that schame that sche him didde;
But he wold not do his biddyng,
He bade his men vnto him bryng
His hauberioun and his target,
His Aketoun and his basenet.
¶ His men did as he hem bad.
When Andromede saw hir lord had
His Armure In hand to Arme him with,
Sche cried out on kyn & kyth,
That sche was brouȝt In-to this world.
When Hectuba this word herd,
¶ Sche ran thedir as sche were wod
Be-ffore Ector ther he stod;
Vpon hir knes tho fel the quene,
And his suster Pollexene,
And Andromede kneled also
And broght with hir hir childur two:
That on of hem was ȝit so ȝongMS. ȝoug.
That he ne coude speke with tong,
He coude ete no bred of whete,
He soukede then his moder tete.
¶ Hic rogauerunt Ectorem quod non ibat ad prelium illo die.
¶ The Moder spak to hir child
With herte fre & wordes my[l]d:
'Sone,' sche seyde, 'loke the be-forn!
I am thi Moder that the hath born;
Fourty wekes ȝede I with the
With paynes stronge, rewe now on me
For alle that wo & al that pyne
I suffred for the and brether thyne.
With-say not here my beheste,
My comaundement, ne my requeste!
Vn-Arme the at my prayere,
As thow louest me & thi wyff here!'
POllexene & quene Elayne
Prayed him also,—al was In vayne.
When Andromede saw al that,
How his Moder ther on knes sat,
Vpon hir knes sore wepande,
And quene Eleyne loude cryande,
His sustres alle with sore chere,
And [he] wolde hem not here:—
¶ Sche toke the child In her lap
That was soukyng at her pap,
By-fore his feet fel sche doun
For sorwe & care In a ded sowne.
When sche was rysen & sat on knes:
'This is thi sone that thow here ses,'
Seyde Andromede, '& I thi wiff.
For him that made bothe deth and lyff!
Beleue at hom this day with me
And go not out to this semble!
¶ And if thin [mod] be now so hard
That thow of me haue no reward,
Rewe opon this ȝonge thyng,
Thi sones bothe that I here bryng!
That I ne dye neuere ne thei euel ded,
Ne go so pore to begge oure bred
In straunge land & In exile,
Saue me & hem fro deth vile!
And lete vs now thin Armes of take
For thi louely childer sake!
And leue her-Inne this day alone
That thow this day bere Armes none!'
¶ The ladies hadde gret pyne,
The water ran out of here eyȝene,
That it wet that louely lere;
Ȝit wolde he not hir prayeres here.
His wiff wepes with reuful chere,
The teres fallen on hir lere,
Off hir eyen hit rennes out,
Thei wete hir chekes al a-bout,
Sche ffalles offte In ded sownyng:
But he ȝaff of hem no thyng,
¶ But Armed him & toke his stede,
And lep vp sone & fro hem ȝede;
Toward the feld he hyed him faste
Fro the ladies, that he were paste.
WHen Andromede saw hir lord go,
Lord god! what hir was wo!
Sche skrat hir face—as sche were wod—
Til it was ronnen al on blod,
Sche rente hir clothes & hir heer tare;
Mechel sorwe made sche thare,
Sche was almost of hir wit.
The lady thanne hir clothes vp knyt,
¶ Sche ran to kyng Priamus,
As sche that was ful angwisusMS. ful of angwisus..
So was sche blod and al for-scrat,
That kyng ne none that by him sat
Wiste In erthe what sche was.
When thei hir knew, thei seyde: 'alas!'—
'What ayles the, my derlyng?'
To hir seyde Priamus, the kyng.
Er sche myȝt speke, sche swoned ther,
Alle hadde reuthe aboute hir wer;
¶ Thei were alle so sore meruayled,
What that louely lady ayled.
When sche was rysen, sche sat on knes,
Hir heer was rent & torne In pes;
Sche cried loude and seide alweyes,
"Sche myght for no thyng be In pes."
Sche seyde: 'sir kyng, whi sittes thow here?
Wol thow now lese thi sone dere?
Thow scholde haue ȝeuen to him entent!
For riȝt to batayle he is went;
Now is he gon & fforward reden;
His stede Armed he is be-striden,
Vn-to the batayle for to gange;
Iff thow fro him dwelle out lange,
That he fro the thedir may wende,
Thow art for-done, & alle thi frende;
¶ Thow schalt him neuere se more on lyue,
But thow ouertake him swythe.
For be it so that he come thore,
On lyue ne sese thow him no more!'
The kyng anon with-oute abode
To his hors that he on rode,
And lepe vp sone with-outen tariyng
And rod afftir him with herte sikyng:
¶ He priked his hors on the pament,
That afftir his feet the fir out glent;
For no thyng wolde the kyng abide,
Or he sey him where he gan ride.
¶ Adhuc Magnum bellum.
He rode and toke him by the rayne,
And pulled his stede wrothely a-ȝayne,
And seyde: 'Ector, thow art to blame!
I comaunde the In my goddis name,—
In him that is so ful of myȝt
And maked bothe day & nyȝt,—
That thow no further go fro me,
But turne a-ȝeyn to thi Cite!
As thow art treuly my sone,
In my blessyng & benysone!'
ECtor offte his fader with-sayd,
But he his stede to him brayd,
And brouȝt him thanne a-ȝeyns his wille,
With his praieres, the Cite tille.
In the paleys Ector doun lyght,
But he wolde not him vndyght
¶ Off his armure & his a-tire;
He lefft at home with moche ire,
That he was not at that sauȝt.
The Gregeis with the Troyens fauȝt
With hardi herte and gret reddure:
Ther was be-twene hem a grisly stoure,
Many a knyȝt on grounde ther lay,
And many an hors ther wente a-way,—
Her guttes trayled on the grounde,—
That neuere afftir her maystres founde.
¶ Troylus woundes Gregeis and sles,
And he by-holdes wel Diomedes,
He hadde to him wel gret envy:
He thought to do with him Maystry,—
That him were leuere then gret catel,—
That he myght scle him In that batel;
He hated him for his lemman,
CresseidaCress, possibly by same hand, on erasure., that fair womman.
He toke a spere stalworth and strong,
To bere doun Troyle a-mong the throng;
But Troyle saw him come ridande
And toke a stalworth spere In hande,
And rode to him with myȝt and mayn,
[And Diomedes him aȝeyn,]No gap in MS.
That thei fel bothe opon the grene:
And toke here stedis as knyȝtes kene,
¶ And bothe her swordis out thei drow
And ffauȝt to-geder long y-now,
Til thei were stoned hede and brayn.
That on that other wolde haue sclayn,
Ne hadde than comen Menelaus
With al his ost opon Troylus;
For he come thenne with gret meyne
And made these knyȝtes departye.
And elles I trowe with-outen les
Troyle hadde sclayn Diomedes!
MEnelaus is comen doun
With many knyȝt and bold baroun:
When his men with here Ioyned,
Many a man was ther assoyned
Off ther lyff ther at her mote,
That neuere afftirward come to bote.
¶ When Menelaus was In that presse,
He saw a kyng—het Messeres,—
He smot that kyng vpon the scheld,
That he fel doun opon the feld.
When the Gregeis saw him falle,
Thei gadered a-boute him alle:
¶ Messeres wolde defende his cors,
But sicurly he hadde no fors;
Thei made a serkel al a-boute,
That he myȝt not go with-oute.
Thei toke that kyng a-mong hem a-none
And with him gan a-wey gone,
To lede him to here pauylouns
And put him with ther other prisouns.
But Troyle by-gan theder to loke
And say, how thay of Grece him toke:
He vowed to god, "he scholde be wo,
Or thei that kyng with hem lete go."
¶ He rode thedir with-oute dwellyng
And be-lan neuere of men fellyng,
Til he hadde take him fro her hondis
And delyuered him out of his bondis.
The Gregeis saw that thei mowȝt nouȝt
Lede him a-way, as thei hadde thouȝt:
Thei thoght his hede of for to strike
And leue him liggand vpon the dike,
¶ But come Troyle, the douȝti knyȝt,
And many of hem sclow In here fyȝt
And made that kyng a-way to scape
For al that ost & alle that frape;
ThenMS. But then. were Troyens bold and Ioyus.
But than come doun Thelamanyus
With thre thousand of douȝti knyȝtes,
To helpe Gregeis with al her myȝtes;
On that side come he doun ridande,
Ther Polidomas was ffyghtande.
¶ Thelamanyus with a spere
To Polidomas rode with were
And bar him doun, er he was war,
And with that Iustus he smot him sar
And threw him doun ouer his hors ers,
That long afftirward he was the wers.
He was In poynt tho him to ȝelde,
But then come Troyle to that felde
And Thelamon myȝtily assayled
And so hertly on him trauayled,
That on hors brouȝt he Polidomas
Swyfliche as he rather was.
PAris hath his men araied,
His baner is before disp[l]ayed,
He gaderes his men aboute him nowe
And biddis that thei schal him folowe:
To that assaut wil he now wende,
His men echon her bowes thei bende,
And sette In takel long and brode;
To that assaut thei with him rode
And schotte Gregeis & did him skathe.
But Achilles was al to rathe,—
Armed wel & redi dight,—
To come then with many a knyȝt:
With al his ost come he doun tho,
The Troiens faste be-gan to sclo.
¶ He hem sles & doun hem kest,
Scheldes ryued, & helmes berst;
His men were euere more him ner
And halp him wel at his mestier:
Thei leyd on Troiens strokes large,
And so thei gan hem ouer-charge
With stalworth strokes of her hand,
That thei myȝt no lenger stand.
¶ The Troiens thanne be-gan to fle,
Faste ridande to here Cite,
As faste as thei myght prike;
Thei spared nother doun ne dike,
Til thei come at here cite ȝates.
Achilles folwed hem algates
Ouer dales & ouer dounes
With his Gregeis & Murmidounes;
He sclow of hem that tyme gret won,
Thei fled a-way fro him echon.
This line in red paint at this very place.Hic Achilles occidit Margariton filius [sic!] Regis Troiani.
THe kynges sone Margariton
Saw he come hem vpon,
And sclow his men—as lyoun bestis
That is for-hungred In wilde forestis;—
He myȝt him no lenger suffer In no wyse
For al the gode that was In prise:
He turned his stede vn-to him son,
To fyght with him was he bon,
He smot vnto him strokes thore
As breme as any bore.
¶ He made Achilles leue his chace,
That he no lenger mordur mace;
Off his chasyng he him restayed:
Many a strok ther was payed,
He lent him fele and him qwyt;
But Margaritoun was so hit,
Er he partid fro his handes,
That he fel ded vpon the sandis.
The Troiens made an hidous cri,
When he was ded so sodanly.
The douȝti Thelamanyus
To hem of Troye was envious,
He chased the Troiens & thret
And many of hem to grounde bet.
¶ But Paris harde his men defendis,
Many an arwe he hem sendis;
But for auȝt that he myȝt do,
And al his ost with also,
Thei were put vnto flyȝt,
Wenkyst foule, & discomfiȝt.
Thei token the toun with mychel spede—¶ Troiani fugeruntIn one line in MS.; the sign in blue, the words in red paint..
To saue her lyues for thei hadde nede,—
And brouȝt with hem that ded body,
And ȝede ther-with by strete & sty,
Til thei come at Ilion
And leyde ther doun Margariton
Vpon the grounde al bledande:
Many on for him was wepande.
ECtor saw his brother slayn,—
And for him wepes knyȝt & swayn,—
His colour chaunged, his herte ros,
For tene Ector he wode gos:
He rolled his eyen as best ramage,
As he hadde fallen In a rage;
He lased his helme & toke his stede,
'Tel me,' he sayde, 'who dede that dede?
¶ What is he that my brother sclow?
I schal him venge, if I mow!'
Thei seide: 'it was sir Achilles
That sclow him with-oute les,
And put vs to discomfiture,
For we myȝt him not endure;
A-ȝeyn him may we make no defence
With-oute ȝoure help & ȝoure presence.'
¶ Ector thanne with wrothful herte
Vpon his hors lepe vp smerte,
He strok his stede so with his spores
That he lepe ouer lond & forwes;
He spared no ston ne cause,
Til he mette with his meyne.
¶ Right at the ȝatis met he his men,
Fleande be twelue & ten;
To hem wold he speke wordis non,
But to his enemys ȝede he alon:
His fomen were sone of him dred,
And thei wex bold that furst were fled,
¶ Hic Ector ibat ad prelium.
For whan thei hadde of him a syght,
Thei were not ferd of kyng ne knyȝt.
ECtor is of Troye y-went,
He brak his fader comaundement,
He thoght not on his benysoun
That douȝti knyȝt of gret renoun:
He schal lese his lyff or euen MS. euel.-tyde,
Aȝeyn to Troie schal he not ride.
With his lyff hit rewes me sore,
That he that day come thore!
¶ Allas! that day he hadde no grace
To be at home, as him radde wace;
But sicurly he myght not fle
On no manere his destane:
His ffader wist not of his wendyng,
He ȝede ther-fore to his endyng.
He sclow Gregeis and kest hem doun
And droff hem alle out of the toun;
¶ The rayn fel neuere so thike on rise
As Ector sclow his enemys;
Was non so stiff hem among
That he ne sclow hem or doun sclong,
That he myȝt take or ouer-reche.
Off Margaritoun toke he wreche,
He venged him with dynt of sword,
He sclow that day many a lord.
Alle that feld was vmbesprade
Off dede knyȝtes that lay & bledde:
For sicurly he was so wroth,
That wham he hit to dethe he goth;
¶ Among Gregeis he rayked, treled,
With his swerd that wel was steled,
Was non so strong that him sittis
The strong strokes that he hem hittis.
He sclow alle tho & felldeMS. fell do. riȝt
With dynt of sword that he reche myȝt.
¶ Achilles then, that lordly sire,
Wolde not abide him In his Ire,
But euere [held] fro him alone,
Euere til Ector were gone.
Hadde he a-biden him In his wratthe,
He scholde haue had an euel batthe,
He scholde haue bathed In his blode.
Was none so strong that him with-stode,
That he ne lay ded vpon the sondes
With stalworth strokes of his hondes.
If a man hadde with him ben
A-mong Troiens, and hadde sen
Alle the meruayles that he wrouȝt,
He wolde euere haue In his thouȝt
Off his endyng and his myschaunce,
And of his foule encombraunce
As he hadde of his lyue.
He sclow of hem hundres fyue
And ten ther-toMS. ȝer to., er he wolde sese;
He droff a-ȝeyn-ward alle the prese,
He droff hem alle a-ȝeyn bacward
For drede of dethe her tentis toward.
ECtor fightes vpon that hethe,
Many a man doth he to dethe:
Was non so bold that durst him mete,
That he ne fel doun In the strete;
He deled a-boute him euel knockis,
Her armure ferde as it were frockis.
Al that euere stode In his way
He felde hem doun as clottis of clay,
He smot a man som-tyme on-two,
And som-tyme man & hors also;
He sclow and wounded ȝong and olde,
Aȝeyn his strok myȝt no stel holde.
¶ Hit was a wonder for to se,
What men he sclow at that Iorne;
To se the syght hit was delful,
How euery plud of blod stode fulMS. stodeful.
Off men that he ther slees & felles,
The blod ran doun as water of welles.
¶ He barst her mayles and al to-tatred,
The scheldis of hem he al to-clatered.
Thei knewe wel sone that it was he,
And fro his strokes gan [t]he[i] fle;
He sclow of hem many a score.
His men that were y-fledMS. yfeld. be-fore,
He turned a-ȝeyn In that assaut,
And bitterly with hem he faut.
ADouȝti duke, Euripolus,
An[d] an other, Hastidius,
He saw how Ector scheldes roff
And al that ost a-ȝeyn-ward droff:
He ffauȝt his on a-ȝeyn alle,
He sclow her men and made hem falle,
The blod of men a-boute him flowed.
Vnto her goddis thei bothe a-vowed
"For al his fare he scholde beb altered from h. met,
And of his dedis he scholde be let."
¶ When these dukes hadde bothe y-sworn,
With alle her men thei wente be-forn
And layd opon him strokes faste,
And al a-boute him thei be-caste.
But I wot neuere, what it a-vayled?
For whan he was with hem assayled,
He sclow hem bothe In-myddes the ost
For al here Iangelynge and her bost;
And many an-other moder sone
He brak of bothe the scheltrone:
Thei fled a-way as thei myȝt go,—
For thei saw heMS. he saw thei. wolde hemMS. him. slo,—
Thei durst therfore no lenger dwelle,
But fled fro him—the sothe to telle.
¶ The stoure was gret and perilous,
The noyse was gret & hidous:
Troiens were than a-ȝeyn turned,
That furst for drede her fomen scorned;
Opon her foos ȝede thei hedelynge
And wounded sore bothe knyȝtes & kynge.
But thei of Grece Polidomas toke
And faste a-weyward with him schoke,
¶ Thei wende haue had him prisoner,
But thei be-fel foule encomberMS. encombranser. The scribe first wrote encombranse, and then forgot to strike out the rans, when he altered it to encomber; cf. l. 1617.
Off his takyng & his ledyng:
Thei myȝt him not to her tentis bryng,
As thei wende to haue y-done,
For Ector come to hem sone.
¶ Whan he was war of his takyng,
He come to him faste schakyng;
Among that hepe strok he his stede
Polidomas that then wolde lede,
And dalt ther strokes on eche a side
To his fomen that were vnride.
He bar here feet ouer thaire hede,
Many of hem did he to dede;
He sclow that tyme two hundred & mo
With his hond for-sothe tho.
POlidomas that thenne led,
Thei lete him go, and fro him fled.
He made a-mong hem suche debate,
That thei were ferd of him & mate;
Thei lete go quyte Polidomas,
And seide euerychon that while 'alas!'
Hem Angered sore, whan he was tan.
For he was two hundred mennes ban
Or it was passed myd-ouer-none;
Hadde him last lyff, he hadde for-done
The Gregeis alle with-oute lye,
But he most nede that day dye;
For destane ches his chaunce so,
That he most nede that day go to,
That day forsothe, or it were euen—
As Andromede saw In here sweuen.
¶ Herkenes! as ȝe schal here,
How he died & In what manere:
For ther byfore long y-gon
He fauȝt with Gregeis many on,
He fauȝt somtyme with ten thousand,
Ȝit myȝt thei not his strokes with-stand;
Was non so strong on Gregeis side,
That durst him In his yre a-byde.
Achilles met neuere with him ȝit,
That he ne ȝaf him an euel fit;
For al his myȝt & his prowes
He partied neuere fro him harmles,
That he ne was wounded & euel dyght
For all that he was so hardy a knyght.
ECtor hath quyt Polidomas
And brouȝt him out of al that cas,
He rightes his helm & wele amendes,
And to his meyne he him sendes,
And askes of hem: "whether that thei slepe,
Whi thei the lord no better kepe?"
¶ He turned him then to hem of Grece
And hewes her bodies al to pece;
Thei falle afftir him as doth the leues
In wynter-tyme that growes on greues;
He layde hem doun alle be-dene
And made the way of hem ful clene.
Ther myȝt non stande that he smot;
The Gregeis made a sore lot
And seyde: "but god did bote,
Thei were euerychon vndir his fote."
¶ Ther was o Grece an Ameral,
That saw how Ector wrouȝt bale
A-mong Gregeis, how he hem ȝeled,
And with his swerd he hem steked:
He felde hem doun as hadde ben tres.
The duk men cleped Leochynes;
Him thoght for sorwe his herte bledis,
Ful faste to Ector he him spedis
And stroke him with al his myȝt,
For he him fond In suche a plyȝt
That he wende for-sothe certayn
That he scholde him haue sclayn.
¶ But hit was noght as he supposed,
Thow he were duk & knyȝt a-losed,
Thow he were duk & knyȝt a-pert
And fond him thenne at discouert:
He sclow him not, but hurt him so
That helm & coyfe cleue In-two,
And carf of him bothe heer & hide,
And ȝaff Ector a wounde vnride.
¶ But Ector stille on his hors sat,
That he fel not to grounde with that;
But whan he felte that he was smetyn,—
As men fynde of him y-wreten,—
He was so wroth, & wex ner wode,
That he of him hadde so rauȝt blode:
¶ Hic Ector occidit leochiden.
¶ Then he smot him vpon the hede,
That he ete neuere afftir brede;
He smot him vpon his croune,
That to his hors he cleue him doune;
He cleue him euen in-two amyddes—
'Go on deblisCf. note to l. 10027, p. 296.!' he him biddes,
'Ho made the,' he sayde, 'so bold
To smyte me thus, and not me told?'
¶ The duk hade of him suche houselle,
On bothe the sides his hors he felle;
As he hadde ben a clouen hogge,
The duke hanged as a frogge.
For wratthe & tene that Ector was hirt,
Many ffro her lyues sterst;
He made suche hepes of dede bodies
Off douȝti knyȝtes that were of pris,
That non durst him than a-byde
Ne In his way not ones ryde.
AChilles houes euere atrayn
And saw what lordes he hadde sclayn,
Lordes and knyȝtes In his wodnesse,
Mo then he coude nombre or gesse.
Achilles than In his herte thoght:
"But if Ector were to dethe broght
Hastily with som qweyntyse,
Or scleght, by som skynnes wyse,
The Gregeis scholde neuere day y-se
That thei of Troye schuld Maystered be;
For no strengthe myȝt a-vayle,
For nouȝt that he coude assayle."
He ceste therfore In his wit,
How thei myȝt of him be qwit
With som quayntyse that he myȝt do,
That he were the deth sone brouȝt to.
Many a sleght & many a compas
Achilles In his hert cast,
How he myȝt Ector ful-fille
His strong compas & alle his wille.
Whil Achilles him be-thoght
How Ector scholde to dethe be brouȝt,
¶ Ector saw a duk ridande
Among that prese with sword In hande,
He felde Troiens In many stedes,
And on her bodies rides & tredes.
The duk was cleped Polynetes,
He come thedir for Achilles
At him his sustur for to craue,
For he wolde hir to his wiff haue;
¶ He was a man of moche hauyng,
Ther was non richer knyȝt ne kyng
A-mong hem alle In that route
Then was that duk with-oute doute;
Fro the ferthest side of Inde
Come he thedir, so was he kynde
To Achilles for his suster sake,
For he wolde hir haue to his make.
As he rode thus a-boute r[a]ykande,
With hem of Troye thus laykande,
He met Ector right In his way;
That Angred him sone—I dar wel say:
Ector saw how that he sclow
His men of Troye wel y-now,
He felde hem doun & hurt hem ofte:
He spake to him nother loude ne soffte,
¶ He layd at him with gret dispite,
He asked not ones what he hite,
But lete a strok to him fle
Opon his hed a-bouen his eye;
¶ Hic Ector occidit Polyneten.
He cleue his helm & scheld eke,
He cleue him doun In-to the breke.
The Gregeis than be-gan to daren,
When thei the duk say so faren;
Ther were none armes that him with-stode,—
Were thei maked neuere so gode,—
A-ȝeyn the strok that he smot,
That thei [ne brast] a-none fot hot.
¶ Thei seyde: "he was the deuel of helle,
And thei were foles ther lengur to dwelle,
Aȝeyn him fight lengur to holde;
Ne were thei knyȝtes neuere so bolde"—
'He cleues oure men as him-self lykes,
He kylles oure men & to dethe strikes.'
Thei seyde: "the deuel of helle pit!
Out of here land myght thei not flit,
Aȝeyn Ector batayle to rayse,
So wele as thei were alle at ayse
At home vche-onon over line, but by the same hand. In thaire contre;
The deuel hem made to passe the se,
To ligge ther ded vpon the sondes
I-sclaweMS. I. sclawe. with the Troyens handes."
THatMS. WHat. duk was clouen In two parties,
On eyther halff his hors he lyes;
Hit was ruthe se how he honged,
A-boute the sadel the hors him flonged,
Til he him ouer his sadel cast
Vndir hors feet at the last.
¶ To se that duke was it lothely;
Achilles loked then wrothely
Vpon Ector with-outen les,
For he hadde sclayn Polynetes.
He swere "he scholde venge that knyȝt,
If his god wolde, with al his myȝt."
¶ Achilles than to Ector rennes,—
As lyoun doth out of her dennes,
When thei are hungred, afftir bestes
That thei se walke In wilde forestes:—
He wende haue smeten Ector sore;
But he was hurt, or he come thore,
For Ector was war of him wel,
He wiste his purpos euery del,
He wiste wel al that he ment.
A darte to him Ector sent,
And at Achilles he it threw,
That he hit wele, he knew;
Thorow his scheld a dart he droff,
That scheld and hauberk al to-roff;
Thorow his Aketoun & his hide
He smot him eueli thorow his side.
¶ Achilles saw that he was hurt,
Off his purpos was he lurt;
He saw he hadde euere the werre,
He held his hors & wolde no ferre,
But rod him to his Pauyloun,
And kest of helme and aketoun,
And bond his hed & wel stopped;
His herte for Anger ffaste hopped,
That he toke of him suche dispit.
He byndes his woundes & wel ditCf. note to ll. 2303-4.,
And kest vpon him newe a-tire,
And rides a-ȝeyn In mochel Ire
And thenkes that he schal Ector sclo,
Thoow he ther to dethe go.
AChilles now his stede be-strides,
To fight a-ȝeyn faste he rides;
His wounde is wel & wisly boundoun,
HeMS. To. take a spere was kyndely groundoun.
The spere was tow & long,
Gret, & styff, & wonder strong,
Off two thousand was hit the best,
For it scholde not on him berst
By no manere In his strikynge,
Hit was a spere at his lykynge;
He thouthe to sle Ector with-al—
Alas the while! for he so schal!
ECtor rides & raykes a-boute,
Off no man hadde he no doute,
Off no mannes pride he ne thouȝte,
Off no mannes leuyng told he nouȝt,
To kyng ne knyȝt ȝaff he no tent;
That gode body ther-fore was schent,
He fauȝt euere-more In one,
He leues stondyng be-fore him none,
He is to hem an euel gest,
He fightes euere with-outen rest:
He sclow two thousand, er he be-lan;
Thei seyde he was non erthely man.
¶ Ther was a duk of gret astate,
Aȝeyn Ector held debate,
Among Troiens faste he skayred,
And hurt him sore, & euel hem payed.
Ector loked toward that duke
And saw his men of him rebuke,
He hied him thedur with mychel hast,
And quyk be-gan him for to cast:
¶ Ector him droff so with his myȝt,
That he defende him ne myȝt,
He ȝeld his swerd & his knyff
And bad Ector saue his lyff.
And Ector sayde: "he wolde him saue,
But he wolde him prisoner haue."
¶ Hic Achilles occidit Ectorem.
¶ Ector was thanne faste a-boute
Off that prece to haue him outeMS. sute.;
But men stode so on euery a side,
That he myȝt not out with him ride:
To haue him out was he not ethe,
He put his swerd In his schethe,
He kest his scheld on his bak,
To saue the kyng fro alle his pak;
To other ȝaf he no tent,
But he were with-oute, as he hadde ment.
AChilles held him euere a-rome,
And saw that Ector ȝaff no gome
To no man thenne but for to bryng
Out of that prece that riche kyng:
He hadde that tyme no spere In hand
Ther-with to dere no man lyuand,
His swerd was put In his skauberke,
He was al bare but his hauberke
On his brest & his stomak,
His scheld was casten on his bak.
¶ Achilles ther-to toke good hede
And thoght, "but he that tyme spede,
That he scholde neuere to dethe him do,
But he myȝt that tyme come ther-to."
He stroke his stede & helde him faste,
And to[k] his spere that wel wolde laste,
And rod to him, er he were war,
And thorow the bodi he him bar:
¶ Thorow the bodi he him thrist,
Er he were war & er he wyst;
He bar him doun vpon the grounde
Fro his hors with dethes wounde.
ODemon saw Ector was dede,
He saw his blod aboute sprede;
The deth of him sore he rewed.
Whan that he saw he not remeued,
Whan he saw him ligge so In pees,
He stale be-hynde Achilles
And smot him with a pollax sore,
That of his hors he fel thore:
He fel ouer his sadel bowe
And lay In swoun a long throwe.
And Odemoun flees a-weyward faste,
Many a dart thei afftir him caste;
To the Troyens he gan him spede,
That was his best, for he hadde nede.
¶ Thei toke Achilles of that throng,
That he died not here hors a-mong,
And layde him soffte vpon his scheld
And lad him hom to his teld;
And he myȝt nother ride ne go,
So was he sore smyten tho.
And thei of Troye Ector out drow
For drede of hors, with sorwe y-now,
And lad him hom to his paleis.
And thus died Ector—as Dares sais.
¶ That batayle that day thus gan to ende,
Bothe the ostes hamward gan wende:
Thei of Grece with Achilles,
Ioyful and glad for his res;
And thei of Troie with Ector the gode,
Al ded In his owne blode.
LOrd, the Ioye that Gregeis made!
Thei ete & drank & made him glade
With pipes & daunces & Iolyffte;
Gret Ioye it was her murthe to se.
Achilles thei dede alle glade,
Mechel murthe thei him made,
And dight him gode fisiciens,
With leche-crafft thes surgiens;
Alle the helpe that thei myght
Thei it dede be day & nyght.
And thonked here godis In that place
That hadde sent hem som grace,
To scle him that hadde hem most anoyed
And her Gregeis so foule distroied.
NOw is he ded, that gode knyȝt,
That no man myȝt with-stande In fight!
Now is sclay[n] that gode body
That men tolde so moche by!
That was so moche with alle men dred,
Now liggis he ded and for-bled!
In Troie was neuere so gode knyȝt born,
As thei of Troie hadde than for-lorn!
A better knyȝt of chiualrie
Was neuere born In Asye!
Ne neuere was, ne neuere schal be
A better knyȝt In armes than was he!
¶ A dethe! that thow art quaynt!
Thi myght may no man speke ne playnt!
So doughti a knyȝt was neuere none
In erthe made of flesch ne bone,
That euere myght stonde of the a brayde,
Whan thow thi hand on him has layde.
Thow art scharp as any bristeles,—
Wo is him that with the wrasteles!
For sicurly he goth the with,
Or thow him brekes lym or lyth,
That he may not a-ȝeyn vp-rise
For myȝt ne strengthe In no wyse;
For he schal dye In this world,—
So did this knyȝt, that ȝe haue herd.
¶ Lamentacio Troianorum pro morte Ectoris.
Be he neuere so strong ne bold,
He is for-ȝeten & nouȝt of told,
When he is ded & hennes past;
In erthe is none that euere may last.
ECtor is ded & brouȝt to Troye,
With sore wepyng & no Ioye
Eche man ouer other cryed;
Wiff and man to hem thei hyed,
To wete what sorwe was.
Euery man thanne cried 'alas!'
Alle come thedir, ȝong and old,
That ded bodi to be-hold:
Ouer-al thenMS. thei. myȝt men here
AnMS. And. hidous noyse, a delful bere,
That ther was made of man & wyff,
Whan thei saw him with-outen lyff.
¶ Ther was many 'weylaway,'
'Harrow,' 'alas,' and 'out ay'—
"That euere were thei of moder born!
For now schal thei be schent & lorn,
Sithe he was ded that hem Alle saued."
Thei ferde alle as thei hadde raued
For dele that thei a-boute him made,
Thei wepe alle and were fade:
Ther was wryngynge of handes,
When thei herde of that tythandes,
For thei sette nouȝt by here lyues.
¶ The sorwe was gret among wyues,
The maydenes wepe with reuful teres,
Thei rent here clothes and tar her heres;
The burgeis & the Citeseyns,
The gentil men of riche Troiens,
Thei wepe wel sore & gredde,
Many dayes suche lyff ledde.
The kynges rente here clothes & tare,
And cracched her hedes naked & bare;
¶ Alle the kynges that ther ware,
And alle the ladies lasse & mare
That were of TroyeMS. of Troye of Troie. with-Inne the toun,
In here Manere made processioun
And brouȝt him to the kynges halle
And leyde him on a clothe of palle
With careful herte & sore wepynge.
Ther was sone a delful metynge
Be-twene the fader and the sone,
Whan he was brouȝte to Ileone;
The fader fel the sone vpon,
And almost wod gan he gon.
WHen Priamus saw Ector was ded
And be-spred with blod so red,
His visage was blak & wan,
Suche a sorwe toke he him than
That he lese al his myȝt & fors
And fel on swoun opon the cors:
And lay ther ded al In a swow,
Til men him fro the bodi drow;
And nade thei him drawen a-way,
He hadde mad ther his endyng-day.
¶ Lord! what sorwe [made] Troyle his brother,
Dephebus, & alle these other,
And his sistur Cassandur,
And hisMS. And of his. brother Alysandur!
Sicurly thei hadde suche care,
That thei wolde that thei dede ware.
What may I say thanne by the quene,
And by his suster Pollexene?
By Andromede, that frely fode,
Whan sche saw ded Ector the gode
That was hir lord & hir husband,
The duȝhtiest knyȝt that lyued In land?
No man myȝt that sorwe telle,
Ther-a-boute wol I not dwelle;
But sicurly with-outen doute
It were longe to be ther-a-boute:
Ther was neuere erthely creature
That myȝt more sorwe endure,
For sche hadde as moche wo
And peynes stronge In herte tho,
As herte may thenke & tonge speke,
And hit made nere hir herte breke.
NOw is he ded—as I tolde;—
Men myȝt not longe his bodi holde
A-boue erthe with-oute sauour,
Thoow he were man of gret honour.
For ȝe wot wele—as alle men fynde,—
Hit is thing a-ȝeyns man kynde
A man to holde saue & sound,
When he is ded & a-boue ground.
But not-for-thi kyng Priamus
[Thought] "wherMS. Wher. hit myght wele be thus,
Where he myght saue Ector his sone
Vngrauen with-oute corrupcione."
¶ He sente afftir with reuerence
The maystres of alle the science,
And alle that couthe of barberie
Or knew vertu of spicerie;
Afftir alle the grametenes,
Dioletikes and Astronomynes;
And asked hem wel curtesly:
"Whether thei were alle so sly
To saue Ector with-oute poudre,
With-oute sauour or foule odoure,
¶ Qualiter faciunt Ectorem quando mortuus fuerat.
That he were not grauen In the molde."
Thei seyde "thei hoped that thei scholde."
Thei told a-monges hem consayle,
How thei myȝt best this entayle.
Thei Asked him "where he scholde ligge?
Where thei scholde his berying bigge?"
¶ He says "he scholde ligge y-wys
In the temple of Appolynys."
The maystres thanne In-myddis the quere,
Ryght be-fore the hey autere,
A tabernacle ther thei wrouȝte,
A crafftly werk, when it was brouȝte
Til ende and to perfeccioun.
Clene it was al enviroun,
¶ Ther werk was al of gold pure,
Ther thei made his sepulture.
But he was mad, he schold not greue a grot,
He was mad so he myȝt not rot,
Thei held him hole & alle entere
In his colour fair & clere,
As he hadde ben a lyues man.
Thei were wise that suche skyl can,
A dede body that so gan dyght.
As he lyued—til alle mennes sight—
In hide, In hew, In flesch, In fel
Sat Ector ther with-oute smel,
As I schal say ȝow blyue—
But I schal furst the werk discryue.
THese Maystres and these riche clerkes
That witti were of craffty werkes,
That this thyng schold vndirtake
And that crafft-werk to make,
Off brede [&] lengthe toke thei met,
Or it were raysed or vp-set.
Thei set it alle In foure pilers
Off pure gold at foure corneres,
The pilers alle of red gold
From a-boue to the mold;
On eche a pilere stod an ymage
With louely chere & fair visage,
With fair semblaunt & louely eyen,
That alle were wroght of gold fyne,
As euerychon hadde ben an aungel bryȝt
Lokande faire on euery a wyght.
¶ And certes so was alle the rove
Off massi gold alle a-bove;
And it was fair a-boute entent
With precious stones verament,
Hit stode ful of precious stones
That were ther set for the nones;
Alle manere stones that euere men knew,
That were of force or any vertu,
On that roff aboue were set,—
Were thei neuere so fer y-fet:
THer were stones of alle kynde,
Grene, rede, blewe, and Inde;
Ther stood many a riche ston
That as bryȝt a-boute hem schon,
As doth In somer the sonne bem;
A man may se to sowe a sem
¶ In the furthest of the chirche
A-boute mydnyght that thanne wold wirche.
Al was wrought of balewerie
Opon the erthe al vpon hye,
And men clombe op on greces smale
That were wroght of clene cristale.
The maystres that were wise & slye
Thei sette an y-mage al vp onMS. vpon. hye
¶ Qualiter faciuntMS. faciut, the stroke over the u is erased. tabernaculum Ectoris.
Off gold fair, of his gretnesse,
Off his entayl and his liknesse,
With Ector sword y-drawe In hande
The Gregeis alle manassande.
The ymage was maked at de-vyce:
To hem of Grece he turned his vyce
As he hadde stonden hem thretand
With wrothely loke & fair semblaunt.
¶ Many a proude pight pynacle
Stode a-boute that tabernacle;
And many crafft[l]y coruen croketMS. croked.
Off massi gold that were y-bet
Were grauen ther with leues diuerse:
Al can I not reherse,—
But ther was corue & semeli schorn
The leues of Oke & of hawethorn,
The louely leues of the vyne,
And many then I can not devyne:
¶ The vyne-braunche with alle here grapes,
And many other skynnes Iapes,
Many a pomel wel enbosed,
Hit was wroght & wel engrosed
With ffloures & leues wel en-leued.
Now haue IMS. I. In. this werk discreued,
Off that tabernacle that riche bothe;
Now wol I telle ȝow al the sothe,
How it was dight wel & fair,
That he myght neuere rote ne pair:
WHen thei haue maked this al,—
This Tabernacle that was rial,—
Off gold made thei a riche cheyere
And sette it In that faire celere,
The tabernacle stode hit y-myd,
And gode Ector ther-In thei did.
Ector sat vpon that dese
As he hadde lyued—with-oute les,—
He sat pertly bolde vp-right
As man that hadde ben In his myght;
So priueli was he ther tyed,
That he toward no syde wryed.
He hadde vpon him his garnement
That he In erthe on lyue [In] went,
In his owne clothes was he clad—
For Priamus the kyng so bad.
BVt herkenes now her ordinaunce:
What was the Maystres puruyaunce,
What was her sleyght and her cure,
That theiMS. thei thei. him saued with-oute blemure
Off fflesch or bon, of hyde or hewe,
But held him euere y-liche newe?
Thei made an hole In his haterel
& setMS. Y set. ther-In a fair vessel
That was ful of riche bavme,—
The some ther-of can I not avme;—
And other thyng ther was with melled,
That was noble & wel smelled.
Hit ran so doun to his foreheued,
That no colour him was by-reued;
For thanne ran it doun to his eyen
And saued the liddis and [the] brienMS. vrien, distinctly.,
And so be-gan him for to lese
Vnto his thrillis of his nese;
And afftirward faste it sekes,
Til it come doun to his chekes,
And kepes his gomes & rennes so liteMS. solite.,
And his tethe makes faire & white,
And al the face with the her
Was hole and sound, whil he sette ther.
That licour ran so to his hals,
To his scholdres and his brest als;
¶ Ther is no Ioynt aboute his tharmes,
It rennes so doun by his Armes,
And by his hond it so doun wendes,
Til it come at his ffyngur endes.
And gret ffusoun ther doun rides
Ful wonderly by bothe his sydes,
So ffaste that licour dounward droppes,
That no thyng his rennyng stoppes,
Til it were comen In-to his theis
And so ȝede doun In-to his kneis;
So it ran wonder schete,
Til it come doun to his fete.
¶ Another vessel thenne ther stode,
Ful of baume ffrescheMS. ff'resche. & gode,
And kest vpward his gode reles
And keped him so In flesche & gres.
That on ȝede vp, that other doun,
Fro his ffete to the croun;
When it aboue with that was met,
Bothe his feet ther-Inne was set.
Thei ȝaff In him suche odour,
That he was saff with-oute sauour:
Thus thei him made with here myȝt
And keped him bothe day & nyȝt.
WHen this werk was thus be-went,
Thei made foure morteres þat euere brent;
Thei brenned nyght, thei brenned day,
With-outen sese thei brenned ay.
Thei were alle mad of gold schire,
On hem stode euere a flaume of fire,
That neyther water of broke ne of bek
Ne nothyng In erthe thei myȝt slek.
Thei made afftir a parclos
That al a-boute that fair werk gos,
With Gemewes folden on euery a side
That bothe myȝt spere and open wyde,
That Ector schewed & seen myȝt be
To euery man that him wolde se.
NOw of Ector lete we be,
And of Achilles speke we!
Off that strong knyght—as I sayde,
How Gregeis In his bed him layde;
His woundes greues him so sore,
That al his myȝt hath he for-lore;
He may wel euel ete or drynke,
Off merthe ne play may he non thinke.
¶ His grete woundes him greues sore,
That he dredde to lyue no more.
The leches him comfortes wonder wele
And leues that he lyue schele,
And makes him couere more & more
And by her power heled his sore,
So that he may somdel ete
And haue sauour vnto his mete.
AGamenon the Emperour
Sendes Messanger & corour,
That thei scholde bidde the kynges alle
ToMS. And. speke with him In his halle,
And alle the lordes grete & smale
To holde a counsel generale.
¶ The Messangeres also swythe
Thei fond the lordes glad and blithe
Off Ector and his myschaunce,—
Thei were so fayn of his lyueraunce,—
The Messageres bad alle & some:
"To Agamenon thei scholde come;
¶ Hic Greci tenuerunt consilium.
Schold non be-leue that corovne beres,
Ne sercle of gold that on hede weres,
That thei ne schul come to his hale,
Kyng & duk and Amerale."
AGamenoun ful hendeli
Kepis hem alle ful curtaysli,
And did hem sitte more and lesse,
Euerychon afftir his state[l]i[ne]sse.
Agamenoun the Emperour
Spake to him with honour,
He sette his speche fair & hende
And seyde: 'lordynges, my dere frende,
Wel auȝt vs to glorifie
Oure goddis that ȝeuen vs the Maystrie
Off oure enemy that we haue sclayn;
Ther-of we ben alle fayn
And gret worschepe & honour do,
For elles hadde we neuere comen ther-to,
¶ Whil he hadde leued, to oure purpos.
But now may we wel suppos,
Sithen he is ded that hem defende,
That thei haue alle theire endyng ende,
And we schal lordis & maystres be
Off here godis & here Cite.
For whil he leued, myȝt we not spede,
So was he douȝti In his dede;
Vs myȝt no grace for him by-falle,
For he on vndid vs alle.
¶ We hadde no let but him alone,
But now is he ded & from vs gone,
We schal that Cite lyghtly wynne
And alle that ben hit with-Inne;
For thei are now of no power
To kepe hem fro oure daunger,
Sithen he is ded & fro hem went
That vs al day so foule schent.
It is to vs wel more a-vauntage
That he is ded & loken In cage,
Then we hadde sclayn In fight felle
Halff the men that with him dwelle.
¶ For he sclow mo him-selff alone
Then alle that other did euerychone,
And we ben now—I vnderstande—
Mo then sixtiti over the line, inserted by another hand. hundred thousande
Off Mennes bodies gode and able,
That ben a-pert and defendable.
THe dedis of Ector ben wide y-kyd,
That thei may not wel be hid:
How fele kynges sclow he of oure
With his myȝt & his vigoure!
How he sclow In his reuery
The douȝti kyng Prothesaly!
¶ Patrodus also, Achilles cosyn,
In his strengthe sclow he him!
¶ How sclow he In his gret Ire
Kyng Mennon, that lordly sire!
We were echon of him a-dred.
How sclow he the gode kyng Ced!
So did he kyng Polenete.
He fond no man that to him was mete.
He sclow also kyng Alphynor,
And so he did kyng Prouenor
That was a kyng of gret genterie,
Off douȝtines and chiualrie.
¶ How sclow he with his force
The myghti kyng of douȝti Corce!
He died with dynt: so he gart
The noble kyng Piloȝenart.
¶ He sclow also the kyng Yside.
No man durst him a-byde.
He did also to dethe sone
The douȝti kyng Letabone.
Ne sclow he not the kyng Humere?
I wist neuere man that was his pere.
¶ He sclow oure kyng Archilogus,
And the kyng also Episcropus;
And so he did kyng Archomene,
And the hardy kyng Palymene.
Ne sclow he not the kyng Antipe?
And so he did kyng Sanxipe.
¶ He did vs moche sorwe and tene:
He sclow the gode kyng Philoxene;
He smot to dethe vndir his fete
The noble kyng Polibete,
Kyng Phiebete, and kyng Leankes,
Alle he sclow oure gret vnthankes,
He smot her bodyes euen In-two;
So did he other mo also.
We auȝt wele his bodi wary!
¶ He sclow kyng Fume & kyng Dary,
And Many duk and Amerelles;
He sclow oure lordes & robbed oure halles,
And bar a-wey coffre & chest.
He that him sclow mot be blest!
For now—I hope—he is ded
That did vs schame and qued,
That oure men so foule sclow,
And we hem alle schal Maystre now
With-Inne a while at oure wille.
But herkenes now! this is my skylle:
¶ Thoow it be so that he be slayn,
Hap of ffyght is no certayn;n is struck out after ma.
¶ No man wot how it schal schape,
Who schal dye & who schal skape.
Wherfore I say: sithe it so is
That by Achilles douȝtines
We are now brouȝt to oure aboue,
Me thinke it were to oure behoue
That we In feld fight no more,
Vn-til Achilles heled wore;
For we ar noght alle sure & sekir
With-oute him to wynne this bekir.
With-oute him & his pouste
In certayn hope we may not be
To haue of hem the victorie,
Thoow thei for Ector be sorie.
¶ Wherfore this is my menyng:
That it were good, at my wetyng,
That we sende by kyng or knyȝt
To Priamus, to aske respit,
That we .viij. wekes the pees may haunte,
If thei the trewes so longe wol graunte,
And the dedes were enseled.
By than may Achilles be heled,
And we may make oure-self clene
Off sore woundes that doth vs tene.'
WHen Agamenoun thus hadde sayd,
The lordis were alle wel a-payd:
Thei held his conseyl good & lele,
To haue the pees til he hadde hele;
Thei held it alle wel y-do,
Thei graunted echon his conseyl to;
This lordes alle ȝaue ther assent
To his counseyl & Iugement:
That with-oute him and his absence
Wold thei not fight in ther presence.
¶ Hic Greci pecierunt pacem TroianorumMS. Troian᷒. per .viij. septimanas.
¶ The messageres were rapely dyght
Opon her erande to wende right,
Thei busked hem & maked ȝare
Opon her erande for to fare:
Riche robes on hem are done,
Thei toke her hors & ȝede sone—
As kynges gode, kene, and wraske—
The treus of hem of Troye to aske.
¶ When thei were comen to her Cite,
In forme of pes thei asked entre;
Thei fond no man that hem werned.
To Priamus told thei that erand:
"Two Monthes to haue [respit] ent[e]reMS. . . .to haue entre; entre from l. 11464.—
For thei were comen as Messangere—
Pees & trues, that thei myȝt reste;
For thei ther-of hadde gret breste,
For thei myȝt not the stenche sustayn
Off dede bodies that were ther selayn;
Thei wolde haue space ther bodyes brenne."
Priamus the treus graunt thenne
By assent of his consayl;
Thei hadde no wil to haue batayl
So sone afftir his sones ded;
For he was heuyer then the led,
For Ector was so sclayn him fro,
That he sayde not to hem ones 'no.'
THese Messageres haue sone y-sped,
Off no manMS. noman. ar thei now a-dred;
Thei ride hamward muri siggandeMS. siggᷤande.
And tolde her men of this tydande:
"How thei haue graunted thair grithe
To be In pes two monethe."
Thei were alle glad of her sawes,
Thei ȝaff hem alle to gamen & playes.
¶ Hic Palamides Rex iratus fuit cum ImperatoreThe sign in blue, the words in red..
Saue the kyng Palamides—
He was neuere no tyme In pes,
He playned him of his Emperour
That was her alther gouernour,
And seyde: "he was not worthi
To haue of hem suche seruageri;
Ther were other better then he
To haue forsothe that dignite."
¶ Vpon a day it so befel:
Agamenoun—the sothe to tel—
Hadde sent afftir the lordes alle
"Thei scholde come In-to his halle";
And as thei sete at most spekyng
"How thei scholde to ende bryng
Ther purpos & her gode espleyt,"
Palamides be-thouȝt him streyt
To put him out of his office:
And ther-of did he as the vn-wyse.
¶ Hit was aȝeyn his genterie
To haue to him so foule envye
With-oute disertMS. dishert. or any mysdede;
But not-for-thi so longe he ȝede:
At the laste was he remeued,
And another mad & newed.
PAlamydes as he sat there,
Off his spekyng coude blynne neuere,
To Agamenoun offte he flote
And made to him wordes hote;
He seyde: "it was a-ȝeyn resoun
That he hadde ben alle sesoun
So longe vndir his gouernayle;
Ther were other that coude more a-vayle
And were more profitable,
For he was not—he sayde—able
Suche a state to reioye."
Agamenoun sat wel stille & coye,
When he hadde sayd his gret gole;
Agamenoun ful entempre
Answered him soburly,—
For he was euere wis & sly,—
¶ He seyde: 'Palamides,
I haue gret wondir thow can not sese
Off thi wordes & thi carpyng,
Whan we be thus In oure gaderyng.
Hopes thow, sire, I haue desire
To be ouer ȝow other lord or sire?
Nay certes, I desire it not!
Ne neuere with word ther-fore be-souȝt
To kyng ne knyȝt, sir, by my thrift!—
Ne neuere ther-fore ȝit ȝaff ȝift.
¶ For I hadde neuere vauntage ther-In,
But gret trauayle & mychel vn-wyn,
And of my body mychel vnrest
To ordayne ȝow wel, & kest
That alle thes folk were saueli led,
And how we myȝt sonnest be-sped.
I was chosen by comune assent,
By playn counseyl In parlement
Off alle the lordes that ther were,
Saue ȝe alone that was not there.
¶ We hadde ben ȝit In Athenes,
Hadde we not a-biden the, Palamydes;
For we dwelled ther two ȝer and more,
Or thow to vs comen wore.
I hadde ther-fore not thin acord,
When I was chosen ȝoure Aleres lord;
For thow was not tho present,
But afftir longe fro vs absent.
¶ But, Palamydes, thow myȝt not say
That euere fel vs by nyȝt or day
—I thanked it god—oure spedyng
By myn vn-wit or mysledyng;
And also I am redi now & ay,
For-whi it be,—ȝow to pay—
Off myn office to be deposed,
For I wold not ȝe supposed
No pride In me—nother sibbe ne frende,—
I wold fayn of this office wende.
And chese another—where ȝe lyke—
To haue my state—by heuene ryke!—
And I wol be vndir his byddyng
As other kynges of this gaderyng.'
THese lordes were alle gretly dered,
Ther was non that answered;
But bad hem: "be In pees bothe,
For thei wold not that thei were wrothe";
Thei bad hem alle: "thei scholde not greue,"
And ros vp alle and toke here leue;
Thei wente alle hamwardMS. hamward. sone,
Off that was ther no more to done.
But sone aȝeyn euen-tyde
Agamenoun wold not abyde,
¶ Thorow alle that ost he did him crye:
"That eche a man,—bothe lowe and hye,
Kyng & duk and amerale,
And alle the lordes gret & smale,
And alle that hadde tent or teld,
Or any that was knyȝt of any scheld,—
Schuld be at morwe next folwande,—
When it was day, the sonne schynande,—
At Agamenoun riche tent
To holde a solenne parlement,
Off certayn thynges to entrete;
And that thei scholde on no wise lete,
For thei most nede hit alle I-here—
Kyng, duk, & bachelere,
And that were of that ost
Bothe the leste & the most."
THe day is comen, the nyght is gon;
The lordes arysen euerychon,
To Agamenoun Ar thei went,
To wete whi he afftir hem sent.
When thei were comen & set doun alle
By Agamenoun In his halle,
¶ Agamenoun to hem sayde
"Off Palamydes and his vpbrayde,
That be-gan so vpon him playne
That he was made her souerayne,"—
'And is ful wroth with my persone
And for my rial eleccione,
And says "that I can not ȝow lede."
That dignite ther-fore I bede
To him or other, whan ȝe wol chese,
For I wol fayn this honour lese.
¶ And not-for-thi, my bretherenAltered from brotheren. dere,
Kynges & dukes that now be here,—
Sithen we come fro Athenes,
That ȝe ȝoure souerayne ther me ches,
And come thenne hidur In bote & barge,
Haue I among ȝow born charge
Off alle oure ost & oure meygne
In mechel thoght—and that wot ȝe.
¶ Gret besynes of ȝoure kepyng
Hath refft me many nyȝt slepyng,
To saue this ost fro perelle,
That scathe ne harm to ȝow non felle.
¶ Hic Agamenoun mutatur de officio suo. & Palamides electus est ad officium Imperatoris.
And ȝet haue ȝe so wele be kept,
Whether that ȝe woke or slept,
That we ar comen to oure aboue;
¶ Suche a chaunce is fallen to oure byhoue
Vndir me & my ledyng.
But I wol, som other kyng,
Duk, prince, whether thei wil,
Haue now the charge—& that is skyl:
For I haue nede to be In pes.
I wol therfore this state reles
And be with other an vndirlyng,
To haue my reste and my likyng.'
Alle that were there In the halle,
Kynges & dukes and Ameralle,
Drow hem out vpon a rowe
By-side the tent vnder the wowe,
To take her avisement:
Thei haue alle ȝeuen here Iugement,
That thei wole him remewe
And haue another of hem newe.
¶ The Iugement is ȝeuen & taken:
Agamenoun is for-saken,
He is put out of his office;
Palamydes is chosen y-wys
To be here alther emperour
And here alther comaundour.
¶ This conseil is fully ent,
And euery lord is home went
To here tentis & pauylounes.
Her-of spake the Murmidones
And told this tydynges to Achilles
Off that newe lord Palamydes:
"How he was chosen here alther lord
By the lordis comune acorde."
When Achilles herde this tydandis,
Out of his bed sclong he his handes,
As he that was euel payde
Off these tythandis that him were sayde;
His woundes bledde for-sothe & brake.
With so gret herte Achilles spak
To alle that stode aboute his bed,
And seyde: "that this was euel y-red
To make among hem suche a chaunge"—
'Now hope I that alle thei caunge!
¶ For of vs alle—so mot I the!—
Was ther non so wys as he,
Ne non that coude so lede oure ost
With witt and skylle, with-outen bost.
But I wol not be occasioun
To vndo ȝoure eleccioun;
Sithe he is chosen, I holde it gode.'
And her eleccioun thus so stode,
And he belefft here Emperour
As he was chosen with honour.
THe two Monthes are past,
Bothe the parties dight hem fast,
Bothe the Troyens and the Grues;
Her day is comen out of her trues.
Kyng Priamus wolde be venged fayn
His sones deth that was sclayn,
He seide: "he wolde him go
To fight that day to venge his fo."
¶ His batayles alle him-self ordeynes,
With his right hond he hem ensaynes
And ȝeuet hem leue forth to wende;
He prayes hem alle to venge her frende,
Her Prince that was & gouernour,
That som tyme was ther sauyour.
¶ Hic Incipit bellum.
Twenti thousandis knyȝtis fre
In his batayle than hadde he,
I dar right wel & boldely say
That ȝede to fyȝt with him that day
An hundrid & ffyffti thousand
Off myghti men on hors ridand.
DEphebus ferst with his batayle
Ȝede the GrekysMS. grekys on erasure, by another hand. for to Assayle;
Afftir him ȝede thanne Paris,
With the kyng of Perce y-wys,
And alle his men that he loued wele—
With-outen Iren, with-outen stele,—
Bowes & arwes the Persays hadde,
Thei wente forth sore a-dradde.
Priamus lad him-selff the thridde
With xxti thousand knyȝtis him amydde;
He bad Eueas scholde lede the fourthe
And leue him not for gode In erthe.
¶ The ffyffthe lad kyng Mennon;
And thus were thei In-sunder gon.
The sixte lad Polidomas.
And other lordes, as her wille was,
Ladd all that other, as he hem bad.
Thei rode forth with semblaunt sad
To hem of Grece that thei aȝeyn stand
Al redy dight with spere In hand
That thanne abode and here comyng:
Hit was gret at her metyng.
¶ Euerychon of hem on other renne,
Thei ferde as it had ben wod menne,
Thei thrilled scheldes & speres brast,
Some were sclayn, & som doun cast
Opon the grounde & lay flat,
Thei ȝaff be-twene hem many a sqwat.
Hic Priamus. Rex. et Palamides pugnauerunt r.
PRiamus saw Palamydes
The Gregeis to her newe lord ches;
He rod to him with mychel strengthe
And bare him ouer his speres lengthe:
So Priamus bar Palamydes
And bad him reste ther In pes.
Among Gregeis stroke he his stede,
The strongest of hem to grounde ȝede
That he mette with In his gret Ire.
The Gregeis alle be-gan to spire
What he was that him so bare,
Among hem alle that made suche fare:
¶ He sclow hem so & bare hem doun,
He wan that day ful gret renoun;
Moche prise & mochel los
Wan he that day among his fos.
To eche a man his scheld he bedis,
Alle men spake ther of his dedis:
He bare him so at that semble
That alle the los of that iourneMS. io͛ne.
Be-lefft with him of more [&] lesse,
Off his gode dedis and his prowesse.
For Achilles myȝt not ȝit ride,
Therfore at home he most abide;
But hadde he ben ther with-oute drede,
He wolde haue tauȝt him for to rede
And to synge a sori sang,
Hadde he ben hem among.
¶ Dephebus folwes his fader,
He sclow doun Gregeis al to-gader;
And then come Paris with his bowes
And castes men doun and ouer-throwes,
With hem of Perce and her Turkes,
And schot Arwes among the Grues.
But thanne come thedir sikerly
The stalworthest man of Grece party,
¶ Neoptolamus was his name;
Kyng Sarpedoun thoght he to lame:
He ȝaff him certes suche a dynt
That Sarpedoun his stiropes tynt,
He made him bacward so stoupe
That he fel ouer his hors croupe.
But Sarpedoun was not sore hurt,
But hastly vpward stirt,
As wrogheThe e on erasure. as he myȝt be,
And smot the kyng vpon the ye,
¶ That he cleue his nase In two pese.
Then come thedur many of Grece
And leyde on him on euery a side;
He most nede on fote abyde,
For he myȝt not his hors come to
For no thyng that he myȝt do,
He was for-sothe In gret perel,
For ffele Gregeis opon him ffel.
THe kyng of Perse, when he was war
How Sarpedoun on fote fauȝt thar,
And thei of Grece stode enviroun,—
With alle his men come he thanne doun,
And Sarpedoun his hors did take
For al that euere thei coude make.
¶ And that saw duk Athenes,
And the noble knyȝt Menescenes,
He bad his men him folwe than,
An hard werre he ther by-gan.
Menelaus als aboute his hals
Kest his scheld and ȝede doun als,
And bad that al his retenaunce
Schold him sewe with spere & launce.
Euery a burne him busked ȝare
To that assaut for to fare,
To that torpelMS. terpel. come alle that route
And be-kest that place aboute:
¶ The kyng of Perce stode & fauȝt,
Thei slow him certes at that assaut,
And al his men on bak thei schoff,
And with force aȝeyn hem droff.
But Sarpedoun hem with-stode
The proude Gregeis with hardi mode,
¶ Him was ful loth thenne to fle,
Gret meruayle that tyme did he.
But thei of Grece were so assamed,
That thei of Troie no-thyng gamed:
Wolde or nolde, on bak thei ȝede,
For sikerli thei most nede.
BVt Priamus, that kyng of age,
As wood was as a best sauage:
When his men hadde lorn that place,
The swot brast out at his face;
He rod thedur with-oute dwellyng,
Ther was noyse & gret ȝellyng.
¶ Priamus rod to and fro,
He thoght on hem to venge his wo;
Off slauȝter certis neuere he blynnes,
He cleues hem doun by the chynnes.
But the Gregeis euere stille stode
And fauȝt aȝeyn as thei were wode,
Many of Troie that tyme thei perced,
And many man to grounde reuersed.
¶ The Gregeis then aboute be-held,
Ther thei fauȝt In the feld;
Thei saw hem fro the toun proloigned,
And thei with hem so foule regroyned.
¶ Magnum Bellum.
Thei toke conseil hem be-twene,
How thei myȝt hem traye and tene;
Thei were be-thoght of sleght & art,
Thei seyde: "thei wolde here folk depart
Be-twene the toun & hem to wende,
And so schold thei hem sonest schende."
Thei rode ouer dale and doune
To go be-twene hem & the toune.
¶ But Priamus fful wel perceued
How thei wolde haue him disceyued,
With his men sclely he turned
And that way ful sone he werned.
With-outen dwellyng or any abode
With his ffolk he thedur rode,
Ther thei wolde haue had entre
Be-twene hem & her Cite.
He brouȝt with him gret multitude
And laide vpon him strokes vnrude;
He droff hem doun a-ȝeyns her wille,
Maugre her tethe be-twene the hille.
¶ Gret defence the kyng made hath,
Thei toke not of him that path;
The Gregeis wolde the pase haue had.
The Troiens lente hem strokes sad,
The Gregeis laid on faste ynow,
Many of Troye ther thei sclow.
A thousand were with blode be-ronnen,
For thei that pase wolde haue wonnen;
Thei defende & thei assayle,
Ther was be-twene hem a strong batayle.
BVt Paris com thanne on trauerse
With men of Armes and hem of Perse,
He come thedur with his buschement,
With bolde bowes redy bentSome indistinct scribblings at the foot of the page.:
Thei come sidelynge & ouer-twert,
The Gregeis so foule offte thei hert.
But then come thedur Menelaus,
With alle his folk he come thus:
Gret was the sauȝt ther was be-gunnen,
But tho thei lakked lyght of sonne.
Many dede bodies lay ther on grounde
And lite went ther hole & sounde;
¶ For hadde thei had lyght of sonne,
The Gregeis the pase thenne had wonne.
But thei departed for faute of lyght
And riden home with al her myght;
The Troiens riden to the toun,
And the Gregeis to ther pauyloun.
THe Troiens now her sorwe reherse
For the kynges deth of Perse:
Ther was non that longed to Troie,
Kyng ne knyȝt, sqwyer ne boye,
That thei [ne] made gret del & sorwe
Bothe an euen and on morwe.
Was non that made such wayment
As did Paris verament:
He sorwed day & also nyght,
For he him loued with al his myght.
¶ This was ther-fore Paris rede:
"To boyle him and put him In lede,
And lede him hom to his contre
With taper & torche & gret rialte,
With gret plente of fele candeles;
That he myght haue his burieles
And ligge among his antecessoures,
The riche kynges, his predecessoures,
And be ther grauen honorably
By-fore his sones that dwelles ther-by,
¶ Hic pecierunt pacem ad inuicem per magnum tempus.
In his londis that kynges schal be
Afftir him In gret pouste."
NIght is comen, & day is gon,
The[i] gon to bedde & slepen euerychon.
On morwe when it was day lyght,
The sonne was resen & schon bryght,
Kyng Priamus sente doun his sonde
To alle the Gregeis liggand on the stronde,
To Aske the trues—as Dares sais—
A certeyn tyme to ben In pais.
But it is In his bokes wane
How longe the trues were tane;
How long that thei schold holde,
Dites ne Dares non ther tolde.
But thei haue graunt & surte foundenThis line on erasure, but by the same hand.,
Many a rop was thanne vn-wounden,
Many a cope & many an hode
That were praysed worthe mechel gode,
Off gold, of silk, and som of say,
For then was Ector put a-way,
That thei scholde holde riche festis—
As I fynde In here gestes.
NOw Ector Menyng-day schal be holden:
In Troye bene robis riche vnfolden
That were layd vp be-fore the dayes,
With silke y-filed and riche arais,
And other newe lordis did make
For honour of that festis sake.
Thorow the toun was hit done cry:
"That riche & poure, lowe & hy,
That euere longed In-to Troye,
Off ffyftene dayes schuld make no ioye,
But lyue In wepyng & gret sorwe
The .xv. dayes euen & morwe,
With-oute karole, with-oute daunce,
In gode Ector remembraunce."
¶ In his remembraunce & his mynde
Ther was that heuynesse—as I fynde—
Off Priamus and of riche kynges
And of other grete lordynges;—
"And whan the ffyfftene dayes of wo
Were fulfilled and a-go,
Thei scholde make rialte,
Mechel daunce & mechel gle."
THe while the festes thus endured,
And eueryche were to other ensured,
Thei of Troye hadde here comyng
To hem of Grece & here spekyng;
And Gregeis come In-to the toun
And where thei wolde vp & doun,
Saue & sound where so hem liked;
Thei fond no man that hem be-swiked.
¶ Achilles wolde that tyme gange
To se her festes and here sange,
He thoght algates he wolde se
In Troye gret solennite.
Here contenaunce & here porture,
Here myght, here sorwe, & here voysure,
Here doyng of there chere deuout,
And how thei did Ector about.
¶ Achilles made him redi swithe,
In-to the toun wente he blyue,
And to the temple Apolynys
Ȝede he to se, what Ioye & blis
Aboute Ector Troyens made:
He fond ther non that was glade,
But makyng dele & gret wepyng;
Be-fore Ector saw he sittyng
¶ Ectuba, the semely quene,
And hir douȝter Pollexene;
And fele ladies of gret genterie
Here ther In that companye.
Thair heer faire a-boute hem spred,
On eyther halff hit was fair sched,
Hit henged doun by-nethe her pappes,
By-nethe here mydeles, by-nethe here lappes.
¶ Thei made gret del & sykyng,
Thei were echon In euel lykyng,
Mechel del & mechel mone
A-boute Ector made thei echone.
Ector ȝit sat als entere
And so fair In his solere,
As he was furst ther ordeyned;
The baume so his body susteyned
Fro al appayryng & alle sauour,
And ffro chaungyng of his colour.
THe tabernacle on eche a syde
Was vn-done and opened wyde,
That eche man, bothe ȝong & old,
On eche a syde Ector behold.
¶ Achilles loked on that werk faste;
As he his eyen aboute him caste,
So was he war of Pollexene
Faste sittynge by the quene,
He loked vpon the damysele
And saw the teres fro hir fele.
But thoow that lady fair & swete
Wonder sore & hertly grete,
¶ Not-for-thi for alle hir payne
Sche wex nother pale ne wayne,
Sche lost not of her fayrnesse,
Off hir beaute ne hir swetnesse.
¶ Hic Achilles Amat Pollexenam Filiam Regis TroianiMS. Troian..
Al hir wo ne al hir pyne
Made hir not hur fayrnes tyne,
The teres that so fro hur ran
Made hir nother blo ne wan;
Hit for-did no-thyng hir sight,
Hir eyen were euere clere and bryght,
For alle here wepyng were thei not dym,
Ne sche not apayred In neuereMS. neuere y. a lym.
Ther is no man that is on lyue,
Hir fairnesse that myght discryue—
For siker sche was as fair a woman
As man scholde sette his eyen vpan.
AChilles loked euere In on;
So ffair a thyng as sche was on
Saw he neuere In al his lyue—
Widwe, ne mayden, ne non wyue.
As he loked In hir vysage,
His herte torned & his corage,
Him hadde leuere than any thyng
He hadde ben siker of that swetyng:
Alle his herte and his delite
Was to haue of hure a sight,
He loked on hir as he were mad.
The more lokyng to hir he had,
¶ His long lokyng hir louely sight
Be-rafft him clene of his myght;
But he myght not his lokyng leue,
That thoght myght no man him byreue:
He loked to hir the while he myght,
Til the day was gon, & hit was nyght.
Off alle thinges that euere was wroght
Was non so mochel In his thoght;
Him thoght it ȝede thorow his hert,
So sore sche made him ake and smert.
WHen it was nyȝt, the quene vp ros,
And Pollexene home with here gos;
Achilles loked afftir that wenche
With more longyng than man may thenche,
Til sche out of the temple was went.
Achilles In hir loue then brent;
And this was al the bygynnyng
Off his sekenes and his lyggyng,
That he afftir In his bed lay
For loue & longyng of that may.
¶ When he myght hir no lenger se,
His herte for sorwe brast on thre,
He turned him hom to his tent
And In his bed as-tite he went.
That nyght for-sothe litel he scleped,
He turned him offte & sore weped;
Hir loue hade wounded him so depe,
That he myght not that nyght slepe.
He saw hir loue on him was gret,
Al his body brast on swete,
He tholed for hir gret penaunce,
He waried thanne that foule myschaunce:
¶ 'Alas,' seide he, 'that I was born!
That I am now thus foule lorn
Thorow a mayden that is so tendre,
With-oute myȝt, feble, & sklendre.
And he that was so mychel of myght,
The strengest that was In any fyght,
Ector of Troye, that doughti man,
That price & honour of alle men wan,—
That alle the men that stalworthe wore
He ouercome with strokes sore,
Alle that were styff & strong
That doughti knyȝt to dethe throng;
¶ Lamentacio amoris Achillis.
I knewe neuere non that hadde that myght,—
That was so strong ne douȝtiMS. strong douȝti ne. wyght,—
Aȝeyn him that myȝt stonde,
Whil he leued In this londe—
And ȝit he with alle his fforce
Ne myȝt ouercome my carful corse!
And now am I thus ouercomen,
That al my myght is fro me nomen
¶ Thorow a mayden feble & frele!
How schal I come to my hele?
Ho schal do me any medecyn?
Sche hatis me & al my kyn
For hir brother that I slow;
I may not keuere,—I wot neuere how?
For I may not vnto me drawe
Her hert for-sothe for loue ne awe!
Ne with prayeres may I not spede;
I may not toMS. so. hir my loue bede,
¶ I may not so of loue hir pray,
I may not so that lady assay.
Ne my richesse ne my gret ȝiffte
May not hir hert to me lyffte,
For sche is richer for-sothe then I;
I wot neuere how to come hir by?
Ne—I wote wele—I may not spede
Thorow my strengthe & my kynrede,
¶ For thoow my kyn be gentil & gode,
Sche is comen of genteler blode
Then I or any of my lynage.
How schal I my sorwe aswage,
When I no wise, no way can fynde
By strengthe, richesse, ne by kynde,
Ne with prayers hir loue to wynne?
The wo is gret that I am Inne
¶ Hic Achilles mandat nuncium ad Reginam.
In gret wodnes am I now broght!
Alas! how com I in-to this thoght!
I can not wete—so god me saue!—
How that I here loue schal haue?'
He leued that nyȝt In that gret sorwe;
The sonne was risen faire at morwe,
A carful nyȝt he thenne hadde lede,
Til he was risen vp of his bede.
AT morwe whan he was rysen,
Off him selff was he a-grysen,
Off his sorwe so strong In myȝt
That he hadde al that long nyȝt.
He called to him a siker man,
Al his consayl him telle bygan
And sayde: 'if thow wol trewe be,
Ful riche ȝifftes ȝeue I the;
For-sothe schal I faile the neuere,
I schal the make riche for euere.
¶ Go to Hectuba, the quene,
And say: "I loue so Pollexene,
That I schal falle for-sothe In rage,
But I haue hir In mariage."
Bid hir sicurly my wordes byleue,
And if sche wol me hir doghter ȝeue
To me hastly In wedlak,
That I schal remewe al this pak:
The Gregeis alle schal I make go
To the lond that I come fro.
¶ Al this ost schal I remewe—
As I am a knyȝt trewe!—
Kynges & dukes, lord & sires,—
To gret honour to hire & hires
With couenaunt & condicioune,
Iff sche wol haue me to hir sone.
Ne thei schal neuere amendes make,
Harme ne schame ne sclaunder take,
For alle the harme & vylony,
Slauȝt of men, ne robrySome indistinct scribblings under br.
To hem of Grece that thei haue done—
By him that made sonne & mone!—
Ne for the quene dame Eleyne rape—
If my couenaunt wille skape,—
But Paris schal hir stille holde
Vnto his wyff, be he right bolde.'
¶ This man was trewe as any stele,
He vndirstode his erand wele,
He wiste wel what he scholde say:
He hyed him faste vpon his way,
As faste as he myȝt gone;
To Hectuba he come anone,
He tolde hir al his mayster thoght,
Word by word for-ȝate he noght.
HEctuba, the quene of pris,
Was ful witti & ful wis,
Sche seyde to him as lufly hende:
'Abyde me here, my louely frende!
This thyng may not be ent
With-outen my lord kyng assent.
I schal ther-fore vn-til him gange,
Sicurly I dwelle not lange.
What he wol say, I wol the telle;
Ful longe schal I not fro the dwelle.'
¶ Vnto the kyng the quene hir hyed,
To him this consayl sche discryed:
"What Achilles to him bed,
For-whi his doughter he most wed;
How he scholde alle the Gregeis gare
In-to ther contre for to fare,
¶ Hic Priamus miratus est.
And remewe & leue the sege,
And be-come his man lege,
And Elayn leue with Alysaundre
With-outen amendis, with-oute slaundre."
PRyamus chaunged al his blod,
When he al this vndirstod;
Al his blod be-gan to colde,
When Hectuba thes wordes tolde;
In his herte ran many a thoght,
That he the quene hadde be-soght.
An hundrid sithe sore he siked,
When he thoght how he be-swiked
His sone Ector that he sclow;
At his herte was care y-now,
He thoght on his deth so fast,
The water of his eyen out-brast.
'Alas, the while!'—the kyng seyde tho—
'To graunte this thyng that me is wo!
How scholde I fynde In my wil
His askyng now to fulfil?
How scholde I loue In body or gost
Thing In erthe I hate most?
That refft me al my worldis Ioye,
That slow my sone, Ector of Troye!—
But for to eschewe al other perrel,
That more harm not to vs fel,
Aȝeyn this thyng may I not stryue;
That I may haue myne other on lyue,
Myne other sones to haue lyuand,
I graunt his bone myn vn-willand:
So that he do furst alle these thynges
That he sente hidur In tydynges,
That we be [be-]trayed noght,
When we haue graunted al his thoght.'
¶ Hic Priamus concedit Pollexenam Achilli.
Hectuba, worthi In wede,
To the Messanger a-ȝeyn ȝede:
'I haue'—sche seide—'thin erand sayd
To Priamus, that wel is payd
Off his askyng; so is Paris:
Bothe are thei payde of his y-wys.
And I for-sothe anendis me
¶ Schal do his wille, that schal he se;
So that no thyng be broght to ende,
Or euere my doghter fro me wende.'
The Messager held vp his hondes
And thonked hir of tho tythandes;
When he hadde graunt of his askyng,
On his way ȝede he syngyng:
He toke his leue, for he was blythe.
Ham-ward wente he thanne swithe,
He made his lord bothe blythe & glad,
He tolde him what answere he had
Off Priamus, and of Hectuba,
And of Paris; he seyde alsa:
"How thei hadde alle graunt his bone"—
'Alle thi wille for-sothe schal be done;
Iff ȝe wol do that ȝe haue hete,
Al schal be done with-oute lete.'
IN somer was neuere no nyghtyngale,
The throstel ne no wodewale,
The throche ne the lauerok,
The papeiay ne the throstel-cok
So mery syngand In thaire note,
As he be-gan thanne to lote;
When that he was of here assured,
Ne hadde not elles his wo endured.
But than be-gan he for to kest,
How he myght do this thing best.
¶ Hic Achilles mandauit post Reges Grecorum.
That he be-het to the quene
For hir douȝter Pollexene
By his man, his Messager;
For hit was not In his power
To remewe that company.
He thoght he hadde done foly,
That he hadde hight hem suche a thyng
That he myght not to ende bryng.
¶ But not-for-thi, what vp so doun,
He traist so mechel In his renoun,
In his grete dedes & his chyua[l]rie
That he hadde done be-fore here eye,
That ifif inserted over line. he leffte hem In that byker,
In his herte was he sekir
That thei scholde leue al her querel,
For drede of harm & perel
That hem schulde falle In that stour,
Iff thei for-ȝede his socour.
HIt was a day whil trewes last,
Achilles In his hert cast
That he wolde make the lordes alle
That were of Grece come to his halle:
His Messager anon he sende
To alle the lordes that were him hende,
And bad hem come al at ones
To speke with him In his wones.
¶ Ther was no lord that with-stode,
That ne thei als sone to him ȝode.
When thei were comen thedur euerychon,
Thei sat as stille as any ston;
Achilles sayde: 'lordynges, my peres,
Herkenes now to me and heres,
Why that I sende afftir ȝow
For thing that is for ȝowre prow.
I haue meruayle what vs ayled
That we the kyng of TroyeMS. Troyl, the l only badly altered to e. assayled,
Whi that we this werre be-gan
For the loue of a womman?
We haue by-gonne folily this striff
For Menelaus the kynges wiff.
¶ What deuel ayled us to leue oure londes
In other straunge mennes hondes?
As thoght we roght not of oure lyuesIn the MS. l. 12279 is following l. 12280.
Off oure childryn & oure wyues
At home that we behynde vs leffte;
An aunter were we schal se hem effte.
And we ar here at gret dispence
To make of this werre defence;
Oure goodis fast begynnes to waste,
We may be beggeres alle In haste.
¶ We suffur wo of oure bodyes
As men—me thynke—that are vn-wyse;
We take here not but woundes
And ligge In dikes as dede houndes.
Ne here is non a-monges vs alle
That wot w[h]at wol him by-falle;
For the beste of vs echon
May haue harm, and thei non,
In woundes sore & gret brosures.
He is a fole that him ensures
In his strengthe & In his myght,
For I my-selff haue ben euel dyght:
¶ Many a wounde haue I here tholed,
My body hath ben y-holed.
Was I not hurt so sore now last
That I wende neuere to haue I-past?
I was for-sothe the deth so hende,
That non of ȝow my lyff ne wende.
¶ Hic consiluit eos ad reuertendum ad patriam.
— —No gap in MS., but the copyist seems to have dropt some lines. With sorwe but ligge and dethe a-bide—
Off oure liggyng may not be-tyde
But gret periles & drede of deth.
We take to vs an euel breth,
¶ When we be-gonne furst this batayle,
And lefft oure contre euery dele,
And come her to gete batayle
On stronge men & hem assayle;
So fele gode as we ther-by
Haue lorn of oures dispitously
That haue here ben a-mong vs slayn,
And al for the loue of dame Elayn!
By him that me to man has wroght!
We haue to dere hir lyff aboght,
And many good men has sche mad sterue.
Another womman may we serue
Menelaus for to haue
To his wyff,—so god me saue!—
That schal be genteler than was sche,
In many landes & many contre.
¶ And we may remewe by skyl
With-oute blame, when so we wil;
For we haue take shenful vengaunce
Off the wrong and of the greuaunce,
Off the schame & of the slaunder
That to vs did Alysaunder:
For we haue sclayn the douȝtiest man
That lyued In erthe, sithen we be-gan—
¶ Ector that we haue don to dede,
He was alther lord and hede,
He was alther mayntenour.
Off his dedis with gret honour
Now haue we wonne suche worschepe,
That we may wel with-oute schenchipe
¶ Hic omnes Reges contradixerunt eum.
And with-outen any schame,
With-oute reproues or any blame,
When so we wil, hamward wende
To oure contre & oure frende.
And sicurly I rede also
With-oute dwellyng that we go.'
ANon that riche kyng Thoas,
That Achilles Cosyn was,
And the duk Menescene
With-sayde him with mychel tene
And seyde: 'Achilles, wold neuere god
That we scholde now for euene or od
Leue the sege we haue by-gonnen,
Er we this Cite hadde y-wonnen,
Sithen he is ded, roten & graven
That the toun & hem did sauen!
Iff we leue it In suche a wyse,
Hit scholde be holden for cowardise;
Men wolde holde vs recreaunt.
God for-bede we to this graunt!'
¶ Achilles was wonder wrothe;
Be-fore hem alle he made his othe:
"That he scholde neuere day ne nyȝt
Helpe hem more with his myȝt;
He nolde no thyng do for hem alle
For no thing that myȝt be-falle!
¶ But thei wolde saue thaire lyf or lym;
And as thei loued derly him,
That thei scholde helpe no more Gregeis,
But holde hem stille & be In pays,
And let hem do echon her best,
For he & alle his wolde be In rest."
¶ And thus partid thei ful hirously,
Thei hadde meruayle how-gatis & whi
That he was broght In suche a wille;
But thei sayde not, but helde hem stille.
Achilles was euel apayed
That thei his wille so with-sayd,
To helpe hem more has he not ment,
He sayde: "thei schal sore repent
That thei haue aȝeyn him spoken";
He thoght on hem wel be wroken,
He wolde no more ȝiff tent to thaym
Thenne he haddeMS. halde. neuere ben on of hem.
¶ In this tyme her mete hem fayles,
Thei haue gret faute of her vitayles:
HemMS. Thei. fayles fiche, hem lakkes fflesche,
Thei haue no corn for to thresche,
Thei haue but litel mete or drynke,
Ne other vitayles but litel thinke.
¶ Palamydes, her Emperour,
Hadde ther-of gret hydour;
He toke consayl among his peres:
"Who scholde be here messageres
To wende to feche hem drynk or mete,
That thei hadde somdel to ete,
That thei died not for defaute?
Vnnethe myȝt thei for feble maute."
¶ Kyng & duk & euery a lord
Were echon at his acord,
That Agamenon thei wolde charge
Ther-fore to wende with bote & barge,
To brynge hem som refeccioun,
Corn, & wyn, & venysoun,
Mele, & salt, & other store,
And vitayle hem—as thei were ore—
Vn-to the kyng sir Thelaphus,
For his land was plenteuous
¶ Hic Imperator misit Agamenon ad Thelaphum Regem.
Off corn, of best, of alle manere goode
That was to mannes note & foode.
AGamenon with gode entent
Did his Princes comaundement,
With many schippes forth he ȝede;
Thei sayled forth with gode spede,
The wynde was good & eke schrille,
Hit blew wel sone the lond vn-tille.
When thei hadde the lond y-lauȝt,
Her schippes were sone vitayled & frauȝt.
¶ Thelapus was of hem ful glad:
What-so thei wolde of him thei had,
He frauȝt he[r] schippes & here Coggis
With salt beffe & fat hoggis,
With many a bole & wilde bore,
Vnto her schippes myȝt holde no more
Off corn, of flour, & gentil wynes,
Off seynt-pro-seynt, and maluesynes
As gode as come of grapes.
Agamenoun faste him rapes
With alle his schippis to take the se,
For he was frauȝt as he wolde be;
¶ The wynd was to hem good y-now,
Thei turned ster, and sail vp drow,
And sayled forth all by the wynde—
Some be-fore & some be-hynde—
With alle her schippes & dromondes
To Troy aȝeyn to here bondes.
With mychel Ioye were thei keped ther,
Ful fayn the Gregais of hem were,
For thei haue ben ful euel at ese,
For honger thei were ful mys-ese.
Thei grond the corn as sone & boke;
Tho myȝt thei speke & eke loke,
When thei were sikur of gode vitayle.
Palamydes lete reparayle
Alle the schippes that ther stode
With-Inne the hauen In the flode;
He did hem alle ful wel amende,
When thei hadde nede efft to wende,
When thei of vitayles hadde nedeIn the MS. l. 12447 is following l. 12448.,
Off corn & wyn hem al to fede.
PAlamydes arayes his naue,
Off vitayles haue thei plente;
The lowest of hem was fat & strong,
Thei ben echon bothe wilde & wlong.
And day is went out of her trewes,
Michel bale among hem brewes;
Eche man lokes now al his gere,
That it be stiff & strong to were,
That no thyng wante of hem ne fayle,
That thei may helpe with clowe or mayle.
¶ Thei are now redi In her armures
And heled aboute with couertoures
Off siluer & gold, riche & dere,
Eche a man In his armure,
Thei of Troye & Grefounes.
But thei hadde the Murondones;
But thei therfore leuen now In pes
With hem that tyme with Achilles.
Troiens thoght hem ded & foy,
Sithen thei hadde sclayn Ector of Troy;
But ȝit fond thei, when thei were met,
Off her purpos wo that hem let,
And did gret schame & vylony
To alle the grete company.
IN fel[d] ben thei now prest & proude,
Thei blew her hornes schrille & loude,
¶ Incipit Bellum.
The batayles faste to-gedir drow,
The baneres with the wynd blew.
These ostes were bothe long & brod:
When thei with spere to-gedir rod,
On ayther syde faste thei die;
Her horsesMS. sorses. snoure wel faste & nye,
On eche a syde thei strike & wynse.
Thei sclow ther many a prinse,
Many a gentil Erl & knyȝt,
Kynges, dukes of mechel myȝt.
¶ The furst batayle led Dephebus,
Aȝeyn him come kyng Croseus;
The two men to-gedur samen—
Al on ernest & not on gamen—
Thei lete her brideles alle a-bandoun
And ran to-gedir with gret randoun,
That bothe her speres In-sunder brast.
But Croseus was to grounde cast,
That he myght neuere vp arise;
He died anon In that ilke wyse.
¶ Ther was noyse and eke cry
Amonges the Gregeis witterly,
When thei saw him his lymes out-streke,
And that he myȝt no more speke.
Tho layd thei on as thei were wode:
Many walowed In his blode,
Thei sclow ther Troyens that it was wonder;
Ther was sclayn many an hunder
For the dethdeth inserted by another hand over line. of the riche kyng,
Many a Troyen toke ther his endyng.
BVt then come thedir Palamydes,
Her Emperour, & Diamedes,
With twenti thousand gode knyȝtes
Armed wel at alle riȝtes.
¶ Hic Palamides occidit Dephebum.
Thelamaneus come with himThis word in the MS. is very indistinctly written, and looks more like han than him. als,
With his sword aboute his hals,
With alle his men of gode assise
Come he doun to that porprise.
Thelaman rode to sir Sisene,
A noble knyȝt, a good Troyene,
The kynges sone y-bore on bast:
Thelamon rod to him In hast
He smot him so—with-oute fable,—
To fyght was he euere vn-able;
Afftirward In al his lyff
Might sir Cisene neuere thriff.
¶ When Dephebus saw the wounde,
And his brother falle to grounde,
Wel sore him greued In his red blod:
He rod to Thelaman as he were wod,
He smot him with so gret affray,
He bar him fro his hors a-way;
Wel sore he fel vpon the grounde
With a wide grysly wounde.
PAlamydes saw that he was douneMS. done, the v inserted by another hand.,
His feet hiere than his croune;
He swor he scholde that strok venge,
Er that he went out of that renge.
He toke to him a stalworthe spere,
To Dephebus he gan it bere;
To Iuste with him he him biddes,
He bare him thorow the scheld ymyddes,
Thorow his plates In-to his brest;
Opon the grounde ful stille he rest,
For In his body lefft the stompe,
That he fel doun as it were a lompe.
¶ Sir Paris saw Dephebus falland,
For he was him ner-hand;
He weped for him with bothe his eye,
He wiste wel he scholde deye:
He drow him froMS. for. the horses fete
With michel care & herte grete,
He bare him ney vn-to the toun
Liggande ther In a ded swoun;
Thei leyde him doun vnder the walles,
And Paris fast opoun himMS. his. falles:
¶ His eyen be-gan he than to open
That were faste to-geder stoken,
He loked vp vpon Paris,
He sayde: 'Paris, thow art not wys.'
He seyde: 'Paris, my brother dere,
Whi stondis thow by me here?
Wolde thow suffer me to tyne
My lyff, Paris, my brother myne,
Er I be venged on my bane?
Out of my brest schal neuere be tane
The spere, til I haue herd tythandes
That he be ded of thy two handes.
As I haue loued the, Paris, brother,
In al my lyff be-fore alle other—
Go aȝeyn & worche wisly,
That he be ded rather than I!'
PAris sone did him to gone
With carful herte & mochel mone,
He hadde of him gret compassioun,
That al-most he fel a-doun:
In-to that fight ȝede he wepande,
And lefft his brother ther lygande.
When he come ther, a bowe he hente
That was strong & wel y-bente;
He kest aboute In al his wit
Where he myȝt that kyng best hit,
¶ Hic Paris occidit Palamidem Imperatorem.
So that he myȝt him sone sclo,
That he on lyff went him not fro.
He soght afftir Palamydes,
Were he myght fynde him In that pres;
He was war, where he stode
Fyghtand fast as he were wode
A-ȝeyn the gode kyng SarpedounMS. Sarpedon.,
And he toke gode kepe ther-on.
¶ Sarpedon hadde he assayled,
That the blod fro him doun rayled;
But that kyng Palamydes
Lefft Sarpedoun not so In pes:
Opon his hede smote he him so,
That he cleue it euen at-two;
And he fel doun vpon the grounde
And died with-Inne a litel stounde.
When Paris saw what harm he did,
What gret sorwe ther was be-tid,
He toke an arwe that was entouched
With foule venym—as alle men souched:—
¶ His bowe was bent, his takel redy,
And of his schot he was spedy:
Paris neuere be-lan for to wayte,
Til he hadde dreuen him to a bayte:
When he saw him, at him he schet
And hitte him In his gorget,
That it ȝede thorow his pesayn
And cut In-two his mayster-veyn,
And smot him thorow-out his gorge
That he fel ded—by seynt Iorge!
DElful cri & hidous,
A gret noyse & a meruelous
Among Gregais was vp raysed;
He myȝt not a-monges hem be pesed.
Thei hadde suche del of here gyour,
That he was dede so In that stour:
Afftir Paris thei folowed faste;
But he was tho ful sore a-gaste,
He smot his stede and hamward rode,
For drede of hem no lenger a-bode.
¶ The Gregeis turned to her tent,
The Emperour was sore bement.
The Troyens sone that aspied,
And to the Gregeis thei soneMS. fone. relied:
Thei folwed hem with bryght swordis,
As bestis gone be-fore the herdis—
For-sothe at my discrecioun:
The Gregeis fley to her pauyloun.
But whan thei come to here hales,
Ther the Gregeis made here stales,
Off her hors thei gon descende
And here dikes thei gan defende.
¶ When thei of Troye were y-war
What arest thei made thar,
Doun of her hors echone thei lyght,—
Kyng & squyer, duk & knyȝt,—
And sette her fet aȝeyn the dykes,
And euery man at other strikes.
Thei entred In at the laste;
Tho were the Gregeis sore a-gaste,
For her dikes thei hadde wonne
And In here Pauylons thei were ronne.
Thei robbed & refft alle that thei founde,
Thei sente to Troye many a fair sonde:
Coupes of gold, siluer vesseles,
Clothes of gold, and other Iuweles,
And al other thing that thei myght lacche:
Broches, rynges, what thei myght cacche.
PAris thenne &MS. to. Troylus ȝede
To the se with mochel spede
With xxxti thousand strong men,
The Gregeis schippes for to bren;
Thei kest wildfir In here schippes,
Fro schip to schip aboute it hippes.
The schippes were sone on a blase,
Thei brende bothe mast & wynlase,
Sterne & stere, ore & spretes,
The schipmen In the water fletes.
Ther ros a-boute hem many a spark,
For the wynd was sumdel stark
And made the lowe rise on hey,
That it be-fflaumed al the sky;
Thei myght it se wel In-to Troye,
Thei hadde ther-fore mychel Ioye.
¶ But then come Thelamanyus,
That noble knyȝt & vigorous,
And duk Nestor, that noble knyght,
With Men of Grece, with mochel myght:
When thei come to-gedir & met,
Troyle bad faste the fir be bet,
But Thelamon bad his men hit slek
With water of broke or of bek.
Gret was the assaut that thei be-gonne,
Euery man on other ronne;
¶ Hedes reled aboute ouer-al,
As men playe at the fote-bal;
Thei lay a-boute hem wonder thikke.
The fight was lyther & eke wikke,
Hit was gret ruthe for to se
What men died at that medle!
Sicurly the sothe it is:
Ne hadde it be Ayax prowes,
And Nestor, the duk, that with him went—
Alle her schippes hadde ben brent,
That thei made brenne al to coles,
With mochel wo that day thei tholes.
¶ The Gregeis were wel foule to-hewe,
Off hem vn-hurt were ther but fewe,
For al the gras that was so grene
It was for-bled with knyghtes kene;
For thei myght not endure
For gret hete In thaire armure:
Many drow out of that batayle
And kest of helm & her ventayle;
To cacche the wynd thei were fayn,
And went to batayle sone a-ȝeyn.
THe kynges sone of Trase, Heber,
He rod doun by her tentes ther,
He was wounded with a spere
Thorow his body In that were,
Hede & tre lefft bothe In him;
His eyen be-gan to waxe dym,
For sicurly his lyff was ent.
Vntil Achilles Heber went,
ThatMS. Thei. dwelled at home with mochel tene
For the loue of Pollexene;
He In his herte Gregeis defied,
To wende with hem he denyed.
¶ The kynges sone that so was lamed,
Achilles strongly he tho blamed:
"That he that day at hom him held
With alle his men—so hit is teld,—
And lete ther naue so be brend,
And Gregays foule slayn & schend";
'And thow myght saue hem fro this wo,
Iff thow wolde to fight go,
¶ Hic Heber mortuus est.
With thi strengthe & thi myght,
Iff thow hadde ben to-day at fight.
Hit comes the of euel wil,
That thow schalt holde the thus stil
And wol not helpe thi contre-men,
Thow hast lorn of hem M ten.'
¶ Thus Heber foule Achilles myssayd
And of vnkyndenes him foule vmbrayd;
'How myght thow'—he sayde—'In herte fynde
To thi peple be so vn-kynde,
And wold not haue of hem mercy?
It is so sothe thi vilony!
Men wol say opon the tresoun,
Sithen thow leuest with-oute resoun.'
¶ Heber bad that men scholde drawe
The spere that sat thorow his mawe;
Achilles men that spere out-drow,
And he fel doun ther In a swow:
He died by-fore Achilles eyene
With mochel wo & mychel pyne.
Alitel while—as I ȝow telle—
Herkenes now, how it be-felle!
Achilles cleped him to a seruant,
A strong man, a gode seriaunt,—
At that batayle hadde y-bene,
That hadde the slauȝt of Gregeis sene,
How thei died & how thei fore;—
He come then ridand In at the dore,
Ther his lord Achilles standes.
Achilles asked: 'what tydandes?
How done the Gregeis, by thi fayth?
What was that noyse that was so layth?
Is any lord of oures sclayn?
Loke the sothe thow not layn!'
¶ Hic vnus homo narrauit Achillem de prelio.
The seriaunt seide: 'I was, lord, thare;
I schal ȝow telle how thei fare:
Thei may say the wrother-hayle
That thei this day ȝede to batayle;
For sicurly: but better schape,
I trowe non of hem skape
With-oute deth or dethes woundes.
Thei haue brent many of oure dromondes
And many schippes & cogges,
And sclayn oure men as frogges;
¶ Some are ded, & some home fle.
Ther is suche novmbre & plente,
My lord, for-sothe of hem of Troye:
I trowe forsothe, not a boye,
Ne man that may his heued were,
Swerd or staff to batayle bere
For-sothe with-Inne the Cite walle,
That thei ne are come to batayle alle.
And Palamydes, oure Emperour,
He is sclayn In that stour;
For that he sclow Dephebus,
Paris hath him sclayn thus.
But wold ȝe, lord, do my rede,
Ȝe scholde do a worschip-dede,
¶ Iff I durst hit to ȝow speke:
Ȝe myȝt now on hem be wreke,
Ȝe myght now take suche vengaunce,
For euere ȝe scholde ȝoure los enhaunce;
The Troiens alle ȝe may now schende
And wynne ȝowre los with-outen ende.
I can ȝow schewe to batayle nowe,
Ȝe may se In batayle, howe
The Troyens ar so for-fouȝten & weri;
Thei schal be ferd and so dreri,
And thei saw ȝow thedur ride,
Thei durst not on of hem abide
For al the good of mydelerd;
Thei scholde of ȝow be so aferd,
And thei hadde ones of the a sight.
For thei ben now al out of myght,
Thei may hem not defende longe;
And thei dreden ȝow, for ȝe ben stronge.
¶ Thorow al this world scholde it be spoken,
How ȝe haue ȝow of hem wroken,—
And say that ȝoure selff alone
Discomfited hem of Troye euerychone,
And that ȝoure selff In ȝoure persone
Did more then kynges and kynges sone,
And more than al the men of Grece;
To ȝoure honour gretly it lyse.
ȜeMS. ȝe. schal sle hem as ratons and mys,
And wyn gret los for euere & prys.'
AChilles stode as he were founden;
Wel stronge he was In loue bounden,
That maketh a man to morne & pyne,
And makes hem offte his worschipe tyne,
Hit makes men leue her honour,
And makes hem take gret dishonour.
And so ferd it with-oute les
By the lord sir Achilles:
He herkenes al that euere this man
Off the batayle telle can,
¶ But he wolde not for his prechyng,
Ne for al his sermonyng,
Ne for no gode knyghtes dede
Turne his herte & do his rede;
For he loued so dame Pollex[e]ne,
And he was ferd he scholde her tene;
And leuere him was his los for-go
Then for to falle In suche a wo.
Loue hath broght him In hir chare,
On his bak derne loue he bare;
Fals fortune of him now filles,
He put him riȝt In hir thilles,
And sche be-lan neuere that knyȝt to chase,
Til he by hir his lyff lase.
¶ The fight was sesed of that day,
Thei wente homward In aray;
It was nyȝt, the sonne wente doun,
Troyle & Paris ȝede to toun,
And thei of Grece went al at onesMS. atones.
To her tentis with weri bones.
¶ Dephebus was ȝit on lyue,
When Paris come be-fore him blyue,
And Troyle, his brother, sore wepand;
Dephebus was ȝit lyuand.
Thei wepe & crye as bestes braye,
Thei wolde her lyff hadde ben a-waye;
For his deth were thei so wrothe,
Thei wolde ther die with him bothe.
DEphebus lyfft vp his eye-lid,
And asked his brether what thei did;
Than Dephebus to Paris saythe:
'Telle me, Paris, by thi faythe,
My dere brother, if that thow wot:
Where he be ded that me thus smot?'
¶ Paris saide: 'my brother hende,
God let me neuere my bowe bende
Ne drawe tacle of Aspyn wandis,
But I sclow him with my handis!'
He bad hem than that stode him next,
Draw the spere out of his brest;
¶ Dephebus mortuus est.
Thei drow hit out byfore his eyen,
Anon Dephebus gan to dyen.
Thei wepe In Troye for his deth,
Thei spilled for him meche breth.
Bothe Priamus and Hectuba,
Polexene & Cassandra,
¶ Paris als and douȝti Troyle,
Thei prayed her god his soule assoyle;
And the Citesens & ladies alle
That were tho In that halle.
But what scholde I longer dwelle,
What del thei made ȝow to telle?
I myȝt not to-day ne to-morwe
Telle for-sothe her grete sorwe!
PRiamus let make a molde
Off Iasper-stones & riche golde,
And layd ther-In his sone so dere
With sore wepyng & heuy chere.
Another tombe dede he also make
For Sarpedoun the kynges sake,
And led him by his sone there
With wepyng sore of many a tere.
For sicurly kyng Sarpedoun
Was In his tyme a stalworth man,
A noble knyȝt of vasselage,
Hardi, & bold, and right sauage.
¶ Among the Gregeis with-oute wenyng
Was mychel del & mornyng
For that kyng Palamydes.
A newe leder the Gregeis ches,
For thei myght not be with-oute
An Emperour for that were doute.
Thei toke consayle, wham thei wolde haue
That best coude ordeyne hem & saue;
¶ Hic Agamenoun electus est ad officium Imperatoris.
Agamenon aȝeyn thei chase;
The elecciounThe second c may be a t. of hem alle he hase;
And that was most by duk Nestor,
For he spak most ther-for.
AGamenoun is now Emperour
I-mad a-ȝeyn with honour;
Alle the lordes he comaundes,
That thei be redy In the landes
Erly at morwe, whan it was day;
For ȝit wol thei efft assay,
How thei may spede a-ȝeyn Dardanes,
And venge hem on tho fel Troianes
That haue thus slayn the douȝhti kyng
Dispitously with thair schotyng.
¶ The sterres passen and alle the cloudes,
The day dawes, the Crowe croudes,
The larkis synge, the cokkes crowe,
The waytes faste her pipes blowe:
The Gregeis risen vp of her couches
With many woundes & many bocches,
But thei let not ther-fore to go
Vnto the fyght that thei come fro.
The sqwyers toke her harneis,
Her knaues ordeyned her palfreys,
Thei[r] sadel-stedis & her cou[r]seres;
And rides forth knyȝtes & sqwyers.
¶ Agamenoun In that matyne
Ordaynet hem as thei schold bene.
And thei of Troye by than were ȝare
Toward Gregeis for to fare.
With-Inne a while come thei to-gedur;
But it made tho a lothely wedur,
Hit raynes faste, thondres, & blowes,
That wel was him that was with-Inne wowes.
But for al that wedur & the rayn
Many a gode man ther was sclayn,
Many a knyȝt was ouer-throwen,
Her bodies lay thik sawen.
¶ Off Troye died many, but mo Griffons.
Troyle come ouer the dounes,
With hardy hert & gret fferte
Come he thedur to that poygne.
When he was comen a-mong that pres,
The Gregeis faste to dethe he sles;
Thei were In poynt to lese the plase;
But then come—as thei hadde grace—
The gode douȝti Diomedes
With his felawe Vlixes,
With twenti thousand doughti In place;
The proude TroyensMS. Gregeis. thei gone to chace.
¶ Gret slauȝt was on bothe side;
But thei myȝt not longe abide,
The thonder & lyghtyng was so strong,
That gret sorwe hit wrouȝt hem among:
Thei with-drow hem sone for that wedur,
And toke her conseyl al to-gedur
To go home for that gret tempest,
For hem thoght hit was the best;
For so faste doun the water ȝet,
That thei were alle thorow wet.
NOw are thei alle herbared & housed
Al be-rayned and be-toused,
Thei did of armes & ded on clothes;
Many of hem her lyff loses
For the wo that thei are Inne.
I holde: he hadde gret synne
That furst the were of hem by-gan,
For he was bane of many a man.
¶ When thei were comen, thei ȝede & souped,
And many on for his frend drouped
And for hem-selff thei seide 'alas'
Thei wende neuere to passe that plas;
And ȝit were thei so envious,
So ful of Pride and meruelous,
That hem was leuere echon to dye
Than any of other mercy to crye.
When thei hadde souped, thei ȝede & sleped,
And many a wydwe thanne weped,
And made gret del & sikyng sore
For her ffrendes thei hadde lore.
WHen thei hadde scleped & saw tyme,
Thei ros vp be-fore the prime
And tok her hors & her atyres,
Swerd, bowes, and heded vires,
And ȝede aȝeyn In-to the ffeldes
Out of her toun & here teldis,
And mete to-gedur with strokes hard.
Amonges hem alle was no coward,
Echon other to sle coueytes,
And alle men to sle waytes:
Many a man to grounde was feld;
But ther was non that euere him ȝeld,
Whil thei myght hold swerd In honde,
Or on her feet whil thei myȝt stonde.
¶ But Troile come thanne with his couyne;
He bar a scheld of asure fyne,
A lyoun of gold ther-on was paynt.
When he was comen to that prasaynt
Ther TroyeMS. Troyl. & Grece to-gedur ware,
Many a man to grounde he bare,
Many a lord that day he slow
And fro her horsis doun hem drow.
¶ Then come thedir Diomedes,
And his falawe Vlixes,
And the gode Thelamanyus,
A strong knyȝt & a vigorous,
Duk Menescene, and kyng Thoas;
Thei made ther sone a ferly chas.
And Agamenoun, her Emperour,
Come to that peple In that stour.
Lord! the Peple that ther was ded!
Thei smot of many Troyen hed,
¶ The Peple lay as thikke as strawe,
Or the corn whan it was sawe.
Thei held to-gedur fight mortel
Seuen dayes continuel;
They fauȝt to-gedir seuen dayes
With-outen rest, with-oute delayes,
Til al the feld ouer-al a-boute
Was be-sprad—euery a cloute—
Off gode bodies that lay ded
Off Troye & Grece—so god me red!
Seuen dayes to-gedir thei fauȝt,
That thei rest neuere but the nauȝt.
When thei hadde fouȝten a ful seuen nyght,
The Gregeis asked then respit,
Thei asked trewes & gryt[h]e
To haue reste a two monethe,
Til the dede men were leyd in graue;
No ·lenger wolde thei then craue.
THei sent her men to Priamus,
Ful witti men, & seyde thus:
"That al the feld lay be-throng
With dede bodyes with sauour strong";
Thei asked the trewes wekes eyȝte,
For elles myght thei not fyȝte;
¶ Hic ceperunt pacem ad inuicem .viijto. septimanas.
Til alle the bodyes were y-graue,
So long wolde thei the trewes haue.
The kyng hem graunted by a-visement
And ther-to made he his surment
To holde hem stable, and thei also,
And no dissait ther-In do.
THe while that the trues last,
Agamenon In his herte cast,
How he myȝt best Achilles brynge
With hem aȝeyn to here fyghtynge.
He sente afftir Diomedes,
Duk Nestor, and Vlixes;
When thei were comen, he bad hem tho:
"That thei scholde to Achilles go,
And thei scholde him by-seke
With faire wordes and with meke,
That he wolde come with hem to fyght";
'Now,' seyde he, 'kythe ȝoure slyght!
¶ Let se now ȝoure qwayntyse,
That he ne late vs In no wyse!'
Thei did her princes comaundement,¶ Hic miserunt ad AchillemOn the left side in MS..
To Achilles alle thei went;
Off her comyng was he glad,
The lordis to sitte by him he bad;
Thei sette hem doun—as he hem bade,—
Thei dronken the wyn and made hem glade.
ULixes, that most was wis,—
Coude non so wel say his devys,—
He seyde: 'Achilles, be ȝoure leue!
That I schal say, take it not on greue:
I haue meruayle with-oute any othe,
Whi ȝe be with vs so wrothe?
That ȝe of vs on this wise fille,
And haue turned ȝoure hert & wille
Aȝeyn vs alle and ȝoure owne dede,
And ȝe ben not with vs at rede.
That ȝe of vs on wyse ffille,
And haue turned ȝoure herte & wille
Aȝeyn vs alle & ȝoure oune dede,
That ȝe ben not with vs a redell. 13055-8 are an almost word-by-word repetition of ll. 13051-4..
Lete vs not dye In deth cruel!
For-sothe ȝe may helpe vs wel!
¶This sign almost blotted away. Was it not furst ȝoure oune entent,
And alle the lordes that with ȝow went,
Kynges, & princes off gret power,
And alle the lordes that now ligge her,—
Oure owne londis for to leue
And Priamus his landis be-reue?
To sle alle his and exile,
And do him-self to dethe vile?
This riche Cite to ouerthrowe,
The gaye toures to ligge lowe?
How may this be ȝe ben thus straunge
That aȝeyn vs thi hert chaunge?
That ȝe haue now on newe taken,
And ȝoure furst wil forsaken
Afftir the grete harme that thei haue done,
And ȝit are redi to do alsone?
Thei haue sclayn many kynges of oures,
And wounded ȝow, & sclayn of ȝoures;
¶ Thei haue vs offte foule y-toyled,
Oure Pauylons foule dispoyled,
Robbed oure godis & fro vs refft,
Litel haue thei with vs lefft;
Oure schippis haue thei many brent
And many tyme In poynt to be schent.
For ȝe haue with ȝoure strengthe & myght
Slayn that stalworth man In fyght,
That al her socour & trust was In;
We are now hem In poynt to wyn
And for to sle eueryche a man,
Iff ȝe helpe vs, as ȝe by-gan.
And also Dephebus is now ded,
And thei are alle with-outen red;
Were ȝe sen Armed In the felde,
Thei schal for drede of ȝow hem ȝelde.
AChilles sir, for him ȝow wroght!
Haue ȝe for-ȝeten, ne thenke ȝe noght,
What los & worschepe ȝe haue wonne
With dedes that ȝe haue her bygonne?
Ȝe haue done dedis In this stour,
Ȝe haue wonne ȝow gret honour;
In al the world, brode ne lang,
Is non so douȝti ne so strang—
I holde certes—as ȝe are now,
Sithen ȝe doghti Ector sclow!
¶ Haue ȝe no thoght, sir, & mynde
That ȝoure los thus schal be tyned?
And suffre ȝoure kynges and ȝoure Gregeis
Be sclayn & storuen In this mareis,
That ȝe haue saued noble & kept
With myȝt & strengthe eueryche a step?
Michel blode haue ȝe dispende,
To saue vs alle and to defende.
¶ We pray ȝow, sir, for goddis sake,
That ȝe to ȝowre furst wil take?
That ȝe lese not thus sone ȝoure los,
Ne lete vs not dye of oure fos,
And help vs & saue vs also!
For we may not with-oute ȝow do.
Oure Emperour—the sothe to say—
Sente vs hidur ȝow to pray,
¶ Hic Achilles contradixerunt eos.
That ȝe scholde vs In no wise ffayle,
But be with vs at the nexte batayle
To ffyght aȝeyn oure wicked enemys;
That we by ȝow may wynne the pris,
And than schal we haue the victori,
And but thow do thus, we ben sori.'
AChilles seyde to Ulixes:
'Certis, sir, it is no les!
Alle that ȝe say, I knowe it wel;
But that was foly euery a del:
That when we were In suche a-tent,
I say that we were fouly blent.
Hit was open surfetrie,
And on gret pride & folye,
¶ When alle these kynges scholde leue here londis
For-sothe In vncouthe mennes hondis—
Her rentes faire & gret Cites,—
To com & werre In straunge contres.
And al for loue of a womman
This perelous werre we by-gan,
And alle these kynges haue [ben] sclayn
For the loue of dame Elayn.
¶ Say me now, sir Vlixes,
The noble kyng, Palamydes,
Hadde him not betterMS. be better. ben—I say—
Died at hom In his contray,
Then haue died In this prouince?
Him and euery another prince
That haue died here thus wickedly?
And al for loue of that lady!
¶ Also the man that most was bold
Off stalworthnes, & most of told,—
Ector of Troie with-oute pere—
Died he not In foule manere?
I se therfore: so mote I
Lese my lyff so witterly!
I warne ȝow ther-fore, lordynges,
To me speke ȝe not of suche thynges,
No more therfore ȝe me say!
Off suche thynges ȝe may not pray,
Aȝeyn Troyens to ȝeue batayle—
For hit is but lorn trauayle!
ME is leuere lese my name,
Alle my los, & my gode fame,
Then here to dye In wo & pyne
And lye here stynkyng as a swyne.'
¶ Nestor duk and Diomedes
Thei prayed bothe sir Achilles
And seyde: "her Emperour him be-soght,
That he wolde leue that wil & thoght
That he was In, and Armes bere,
And help hem to mayntene the werre."
But alle her prayer and her sawe
Were not that tyme worth an hawe.
¶ Her fair speche myȝt him not brynge,
Ne prayer nother of duk ne of kynge
Put of his herte & his purpos,
For noght that euere thei myght glos,
Ne her alther Emperour.
But sayde "that it was more honour
At Priamus to aske the pes,
Then be to-hewen as other wes."
¶ The kynges saw thei myght not spede,
Thei toke her leue and home ȝede;
Thei fond her Emperour In his halle,
Wel curteysly thei gret him alle.
He asked hem: "how thei hadde sped"—
'What hath Achilles to ȝow seyd?
¶ Consilium Grecorum ad reuertendum ad patriam suam.
Haue ȝe geten any grace?'
Thei seyde be-fore godis face,
Thei tolde him al her answere:
"How he nolde Troiens dere,
Ne come "—he sayde—" In batayle mortel";
But seyde: "if that we wold do wel,
We scholde aske pes at Priamus,
And schold we neuere saue vs."
'GOd that made bothe lond & se,'—¶ Hic Agamenon timuit.
Seide Agamenoun—'what may this be,
That this gode knyȝt sir Achilles
Longeth thus sore afftir the pees?
I wot neuere what it may be-mene.'
He bad the kynges alle be-dene,
All that euere were In that ost
Schold come bothe lest & most,
And alle these other lordes also,
For thynges he wolde say hem to.
With-Inne a while were thei alle met
Ther to-geder and doun set.
¶ Agamenoun tolde his tale
To alle the lordis In that sale:
"How he hadde sent Diomedes,
Duk Nestor, and Vlixes,
To pray Achilles for charite,"—
'And for the loue of ȝow and me,
That he wolde vs helpe In oure werre.
And we of him be neuere the nerre,
For he swore gret othes to hem thore,
He scholde bere armes neuere more
¶ Kyng Priamus to distroye,
Ne non of his to anoye,—
For nouȝt that we may do or bidde.
He wold not die as other didde.
And this [is] al the skyl whi
That I for ȝow sende witterly,
To here ȝoure alther a-visement,
OfMS. To. euer[y]che a man his Iugement.
Telles here now ȝoure best consayl:
What schal we do of this batayl?'
MEnelaus rose vp now anon
And seyde: "he held him no wyse man
Vn-to that pes that wolde assent;
For the batayle was as good as ent,
Sithen thei hadde sclayn the knyght vigorous,
Sir Ector, and Dephebus";
'Thes other are ether to ouercome,
Thei schal alle dye on a throme.
And thoow it be that Achilles
Help vs not, but holde his pees,—
With-oute his help & his vertu
We schal these other sone vencu.'
¶ But then ros vp Duk Nestor
That I spak of right now be-forAfter this last word n is erased.,
And the wise knyȝt sir Vlixes
That sat to-gedir on the des;
Thei seyde: 'it is no wonder, sir,
Thoow thow batayle more desir.
Al ffor the & for thi wiff
These gode lordes haue lost her lyff,
And so may we lyghtly do,
But we wil not that itMS. is. be so.
¶ For thi wyff this werre be-gan,
We ȝeue it vp here euery a man;
For hir haue we done here gret perel,
But we forsake here oure querel;¶ Hic nolunt pug|nare vlteriusIn the left margin in MS..
We wol haue the pes euerychon,
Ther-aȝeyn of vs is non;
¶ Consilium Grecorum ad reuertendum ad patriam suamThis rubric is just the same as that on lf. 195..
For we haue lyued her many ȝeres.'
When sir Calcas that conseil heres,—
When these kynges were at that acorde,
And dukes also and many a lorde,
To lete the werre and haue the pees,—
He bad hem alle lete that res;
¶ He cried loude as he were wod
Among the Gregeis ther thei stod,
He sayde: 'alas, that ȝe ben mased!
ȜoureMS. ȝoure. wit is lorn and ful dased!
Hope ȝe, lordynges, it is not ille
To do aȝeyn ȝoure godis wille,
That he wol do ȝow alle him dispise?
God· for-sakes him & hise.
God hath ȝow for-sothe be-hight
The victorye—my treuthe I plyght!—
Off alle ȝoure enemys & ȝoure fos;
My-selff hit herde of god·In Delos
That he the mastry ȝow be-het.
ȜoureMS. ȝoure. herte crafftly ther-on ȝe set,
¶ Traystes wel In his prowesse!
For I herd it & bere witnesse,
For I it herde In that Il[d]e:
"That ȝe scholde be lordes with herte mylde,
And that ȝe scholde haue al the maystrye."
Loke ȝe be bold ther-fore for-thi,
Beth right bold, & trust In god!
And leues hem not for euen ne od,
Til ȝe haue wonnen the victory—
As god be-het ȝow trustely!'
WHen this Clerk, sir Calcas,—
In Troye sumtyme bysshop was—
Hadde sayde these wordes amonges hem alle,
Fro her purpos be-gan thei falle
And toke aȝeyn her herte & wille,
And made a vow her god vn-tille:
"Thei wold neuere passe of ther marches,
Til proud Ilyon and alle his arches
Were cast doun, and Priamus,
And that douȝti knyȝt Troylus,
And fair Paris that was his sone,
Were foule slayn with-oute raunsone.
¶ Thoow Achilles helpe hem noght,
Thei vowed to god that thei ne roght;
Thow Achilles hem for-soke,
Her godis scholde vn-to hem loke.
Iff he be ferd of any chaunce,
Lete him sitte & rede romaunce!"
¶ Now are the kynges all at red:
Out of the place, for drede of ded,
To her contres wil thei not wende,
Til thei haue broght that fyght to ende.
Off no thyng are thei a-bayst,
In her goddis haue thei suche traist;
With-oute Achilles ar thei bold
The fyght aȝeyn to take & hold.
He is for-ȝeten with feble & strong,
As thoow he hadde not ben hem among.
Thei wente alle hom to here ostel,
Thei daunsed & sang & made revel.
The terme is went & passed a-way,
The morwe next schal be her day
That thei schal fyght to-gedur In feld,
Ther schal be reuen many a scheld,
Many a bryght basenet
Schal be with blod foule y-wet.
DAy is went out of the trewes,
Ther is gret noyse among the Grwes,
¶ Hic faciebant Magnum Bellum.
Thei Arme hem faste at that tyde,
To hem of Troye thei faste ride,
Armed wel In her harneis.
Now gon to-gedur Troiens & Gregeis:
The vanwardis met with gret hidoure,
Thei rod to-gedur with gret vigoure;
¶ A thousand speres brast In-sonder,
Ther died knyȝtes many hunder.
When thei to-gedir with speres rides,
Many on the dethe ther abydes;
Thei toke ther many an euel garter,
Some loste al his on quarter,
Some his hede, & som his guttis;
Eche man other doun puttis.
¶ The stour was strong & perilous,
The day was hote, the men yrous:
Thei schotte arwes & keste gauelokkis,
Thei dyght foule her paltokkis;
Knyghtes falle, and stedis stray,
The dede bodyes on hepe lay.
BVt then come theder douȝti Troyle
And be-gan amonges hem royle,
Among Gregeis be-gan he pugne,
That thei made many a lothely groyne.
For his brother that thei sclow
He did hem sorwe & wo y-now;
His brother deth he hadde In mynde,—
As thei of Grece fforsothe fynde,—
Ful shrewedly hem dyghtes,
He slow that day many knyghtes.
¶ Then come Menelaus ride
With men of Armes And mychel pride,
And the doghti Diomedes
With mychel peple to that pres,
With many knyghtes stronge & gode;
Thei sclow Troiens as thei were wode,
And felde hem thikke vpon the grounde.
Ther died of hem many thousonde,
On bothe halff thei scle men faste
Al the day, til euen laste.
For hit was nyght, the sonne goth west,
Thei drow hem homward to her rest,
Thei parted so fro that fyght
And ȝede hom alle, for it was nyght.
THei of Troie are In the toun,
And Gregeis In her pauyloun;
Euery man goth to his rescet,
Her mete is dyght and to hem fet,
Thei sitte alle for to soupe
With many a lyuer, longe, & croupe;
Many a man among hem drouped
And ȝede to bedde, whan thei hadde souped,
And rest hem til hit was day,
That thei myȝt make a foule deray.
¶ For thei of Grece were sore a-gramed
And gretly tened and sore a-schamed
Off hem of Troye for that day be-forn,
For her gode men thei hadde lorn:
Thei samed hem alle on an hepe,
Thei toke her hors & vpward lepe,
Thei rod so forth vpon a renge,
For thei wolde hem fayn venge;
¶ Thei alle are went of here hales,
Thei passe her piles & her pales.
Wel hard thei to-geder rode
With baneres faire & eke brode,
Som of sandel, som of ynde,
To-geder betande with the wynde.
The Gregeis toke thenne the feld;
And thei of Troye that be-held
That thei were so to hem comande,
Thei ȝede a-ȝeyns hem faste ridande
Off gode aray & gode manere,
With many a spere and brod banere.
When thei come ner, to-gedur thei ran,
And sclow be-twene hem many a man;
Scheldes and helmes ȝede al to dust,
Thei toke ther many a sori crust.
BVt the douȝti Diomedes
Ful wondirly the Troiens sles:
He smot of hondis with alle the nayles,
He made hem greued—it was meruayles,—
He pared her chekes al aboute,
That al here tethe fellen oute.
He sclow and woundid & bar to erthe
Two & thre and so the fferthe,
¶ He smot of hedes, leg, & arme;
That day did he moche harme
To hem of Troye & her meygne.
Troyle knewe, that it was he
That did his men that vilony;
He vowed to god: "he scholde a-by;
Iff he myȝt ride as he hath ment,
On of hem scholde haue a dent."
¶ Diomedes he ascried,
And afftirward he him defied:
'War the wel'—seyde he—'fro me!
For thi dedis I defye the!'
'And I the!' seyde the knyght,
'Her my treuthe to the I plyght:
I wol the not certis refuse,
Ne thow schalt the fro me ascuse.'
Thei to-gedur as ffaucouns fflyes,
For-sothe that on of hem a-byes:
Diomedes brast his spere,
But he did Troyle no-thyng dere;
¶ But Troyle smot him with al his mayn
That ney-hande he hadde ben sclayn,
He fel him fro his hors swonande
Among her hors ded neyhande.
When he was thus on grounde y-laydMS. A second thus between grounde and y-layd in MS.,
Troyle ful foule him missayd
For Brixaida that was his leff,
He reuyled him as he were a theff.
But his men were for him dred:
Thei drow him fro her hors tred,
Thei leyd him on his scheld soffte
And led him hom vn-to his loffte;
Wel sore y-hurt, In a swone,
Thei bare him to his Pauylone.
¶ When Menelaus that was him by
Saw Troyle that knyght so sturdy
For that wounde that Diomedes laught,
He hadde ther-fore wel mechel aught,
He wyste ful wel that he was hurt.
Menelaus to Troyle sturt,
He by-gan sir Troyle ban[n]e
For him & rode to him thanne
To venge the kyng Diomedes;
For or thei parted, he bouȝt that res:
¶ Troylus spere was with-outen brekyng
As he felde with that other kyng;
To Menelaus Troylus whirled
That scheld and hauberk bothe thrilled,
He bare him vndir his hors fete,
Off his blod he was al wete.
His men then qwyk him drow,—
For him thei hadde sorwe y-now,—
Thei toke & layde him on his scheld
And bare him home vn-to his teld.
WHan Agamenoun, her Emperour,
Saw his men so fare In that stour,—
Thei were almost with-oute myght,
Thei were ney-hande put to flyght,—
He gadered his men to-gedur samen,
And than be-gan a newe gamen;
Then come thedur VlixesSomething erased after 'Vlixes.'
With men of armes, a huge pres,
¶ And the gode kyng Thoas
That sori was ffor that kynges cas,
And the gode kyng Thelamaneus,
And the gode kyng Menesceus.
Lord, the sorwe that ther by-gan!
Ther was slayn many a man,
Many a man and many a knyght
Was sclayn that day In that fight.
Thei sclow Troyens doun to grounde,
And many flowe with hidous wounde.
¶ Thelameneus tok a spere
And to Troyle began it bere:
He ȝaff Troyle suche a weshayle
That he flow ouer his hors tayle,
And ȝaff him a wounde bitter and sore
That on his scheld he was hom bore;
His hors was eke tho y-slawe,
Out of that batayle he was drawe.
¶ Paris ferd as he were wod,
Many a Grew ther lost his blod;
Thei leyde hem faste to grounde
With many an hidous wounde.
Gret was the slauȝt and the wo
That among the Gregeis was tho.
¶ Agamenoun, her Emperour,
Was sore hurt In that stour,
And so was many a gode knyȝt
Dede & wounded In that fyght.
The stour was gret, the fyght plener,
But Gregeis were of nonMS. nom. power
Aȝeyn hem lengur to holde fight;
And eke it was ney the nyght,
For to her Pauyloun anon he went;
For hadde thei abeden, thei hadde ben schent.
¶ Thei fledde echone with-Inne the diches
With gret sorwe and sore sikes,
The Troyens ffolwed with her myght;
But it was tho al at nyght:
Thei wente hom to her Cite
With her knyȝtes & her meygne.
AGamenoun coude no gale,
He hadde y-bled, he was pale;
He saw what wo & perel
To him & his that day befel,
How Diomedes, that doughti kyng,
Was hurt so sore at that Iustyng,
And he myȝt not him selff helpe;
His sorwe coude he to no man ȝelpe.
And MenelausMS. Meñelaus., his brother, eke
He was so hurt that he lay seke.
Bothe thes kynges In bed lay
For harm thei toke of Troyle that day;
Wonder sore and delfully
He was hurt & greuously,
He dredde him sore to ffyght lengur,
Til thei & he myght be strengur;
¶ Hic ceperunt Pacem ad inuicem per .vj. menses.
For if he did, he hoped wele
Off his men to lese gret dele.
He sente ther-fore to Priamus,
To Paris, and to sir Troylus,
To haue a trewe a six moneth,
That thei myght rest In pes & grith.
¶ Priamus and his consayle
Graunte trewes with-oute fayle.
And that was certis aȝeyn her wille
Off many of tho that longed him tille;
Thei seyde: "it was foly strong
To graunte Gregeis a trewe so long."
But wham it likes & wam it rewes,
On bothe parties ben graunted trewes.
BRyxeida that louely was,—
The Biscop[es] doghter Calcas,
That fair louely womman,
That sumtyme was sir Troyle lemman,—
When the tydandes to hir was seyde
That Diomedes In bed was layde,
Aȝeyn hir fadur comaundement
To vysite him ful offte sche went;
For sche wiste he toke the falle
Off Troyle that was hir specialle.
¶ Sche wiste wel In hir thoght
Off Troyle scholde sche neuere haue noght;
Sche hoped neuere of him mariage;
Sche chaunged her wil & corage:
Doghti Troyle sche gan forsake,
To Diomedes sche gan hir take:
Sche sayde sche wolde with him dele
For any man, whan he hadde hele;
For to him sche ȝaff al hir talent,
For he hadde mechel on hir y-spent,
And loued hir wel, and sche him als—
As wymmen doth that offten ben fals.
hAlfh inserted by later hand, erasure of some three or four letters after lf; the first writing seems to have been Affter. a ȝer may thei now reste,
The trewe is so be-twene hem feste;
Thei may hele wele the whiles
Alle her bocchis & her biles,
Thei may hem hele In here soiornyng.
But it be In mys-kepyng,
Thei are mury In alle her woundes,
Thei go & hunte with her grehoundes,
With hauke, brache, & with kenetesAlteredffrom kenetf for the sake of the rhyme.,
Thei hunte conynges with here ffirettes.
¶ But Agamenoun hadde gret care
That the Gregeis scholde In fyght mysfare,
But if thei myght Achilles pray
That he wolde helpe another Iornay.
He sent affter by a knyght
Afftir duk Nestor, that man of myght;
He come to him at his sendyng,
And he was fayn of his comyng.
To Achilles bothe thai ȝede
To loke if that thei may spede;
¶ Agamenoun his wil assayed,
Ful ffaire Achilles he ther prayed:
"That he wolde turne his herte & wil
And let the Gregeis so not spil,
And come with hem In her batayle
And at her nede no more hem fayle."
But for al that thei be-souȝt,
Ne myȝt thei him chaunge right nouȝt;
He swore his othe & made a vow;
'I wol no more helpe ȝow!
But this wol I for thi loue do,
And for thin, Nestor, also:
Alle my men I wol ȝow graunte
That ben so stronge and vaylaunte,
I wol that ȝe tho with ȝow haue
For ȝoure loue—so god me saue!
But non Armes my-selff wil bere,
Non of Troye to do no dere.'
Thei were bothe fayn—by seynt Cristofore!—
Off his gode wil & profre,
¶ Thei thonked him an hundred sithe:
"That he hadde mad hem so blythe,
That thei myght haue the Murmidones
To go to fyght with here Gryffones,
For thei were styff & eke stalworth."
Thei toke her leue and went forth
Bothe to-gedur In to her hales,
Thei tolde the kynges this Ioyful tales:
"How of his men thei hadde grauntise
But thei myght not gete him in no wyse."
¶ The kynges were fayn and wonder glad
That thei graunt of his men had,
But hem were leuere haue had him-selff
Then of his men hundres twelff.
WHenThe capital W is somewhat blotted. it come ner the half ȝereBetween the and ȝere, laste is cancelled, and half inserted over line by another hand. ende
That the trues scholde out-wende,
And it nyed ner the day
That the trewes passed away,
The Gregeis made her harneis clene
And grond her speres scharp & kene;
And thei of Troye did the same,
For ayther thoght do other schame.
¶ When day was comen out of her trewes,
AgamenounMS. Agamenon. bad the Grwes:
"To Arme hem and dight hem faste,
For it was tyme that thei were paste
¶ Aliud Bellum.
In-to the feld a-ȝeyn her fos."
Eche man to Arme him gos.
Ther was thanne a semely syght
Off many a gentil man & knyght
That semely set vpon her stedis;
. . . . .No gap in MS.
Many a sadel was ouergiltis,
Many a sword with golden hiltis.
Many baner blew a-boute,
Ful loude the wynd hem made route.
¶ Achilles gadered his knyghtes alle
Aboute him thanne In-to his halle,
He bad thei scholde her Armes take
For Agamenoun loueMS. lone. and his sake;
To alle his men worthi & digne
Delyuered he a newe signe
As red as any blod,
And ȝaff hem leue with heuy mode
To wende forthe to her batayle,
Here foos boldly to assayle.
AChilles weped an hundred teres
At her wendyng vpon his leres;
His men echon forthe stalked;
Vnto the folk ful soffte thei walked.
Ther was by-gonne wel that tyme,
For it was thanne half way Prime:
¶ The Troyens felde & slow Gregeis
Ful wonderly—as Dares says;—
Troyle falles al that he hittes,
Many of hem her hert-blod spittes.
And thei of Troye died faste
As thikke as men myght caste
. . . . .No gap in MS.
The Gregeis hem cleuen alle doun
And bere hem ouer her hors arsoun
That men myght here a perlusoun.
¶ Duk Menescene defendis his folk,
He smot many In the nekke holk;
And duk Nestor him wele halpe:
Thei ȝaff the Troyens many a talpe;
On ayther syde thei fel to grounde
With many a grym hidous wounde.
¶ Thei fauȝt al day whil the sonne schyned,
Fro the morwe that thei hadde dyned
Vntil thei hadde of day no lyght;
Thei ȝede home for defaute of syght,
And euery man wente to his Inne—
Til thei myȝt efft her note by-gynne.
DAy is comen, & nyght is gone,
The Gregeis are vppe & dyght echone,
And thei of Troye are comen doun,
Armed wel, out of the toun.
Thei ran to-geder as wode thinges,
Echon other al to-diggis;
Many of hem ligge In a dwale,
May no man make acorde fynale.
¶ In erthe was neuere suche a semble:
And that may alle men here & se
That romaunce may vndirstonde & rede,
Other therto wol take hede.
In alle the bokes that men haue sene
Off douȝti men that haue bene,
When thei are thorow soght,
Sicurly ne fynde men noght
That suche a fyght In erthe befel,
Sithe Eue bare Caym and gode Abel;
¶ That so fele kynges, dukes, and lordes
Were gadered to-gedur for on discordes.
Hit was neuere, lord! In geste ne sang
Off werre In erthe that last so lang,
Ne that so many men to dethe wente
As did ther, or the batayle ente;—
Ne neuere of sege that so longe lay,
Ne neuere schal to domysday;—
Ne men that myght so longe endure
To fight euery day In her Armure
With-oute reste and with-oute sese,
That thei toke neuere trewe ne pese.
¶ Ne held thei not sumtyme assaut,
Day be day to-gedur thei faut,
That thei rest neuere ful doughtyly
A ful monethe contynuely.
But men may se ther-by that can,
What strengthe & myȝt ther hadde a man;
¶ For now lyues nother man ne knyȝt
That if thei were put to that fyȝt,
That thei ne scholde be for-done,
Long tyme or it were none;
And thei be-gan at sonne rysyng.
But that liggis not In my spekyng,
I wol speke ther-of no more,
But turne a-ȝeyn ther I was ore.
THe stoure haue thei of Troye be-gonne,
And thei of Grece ben to hem ronne
And made In her armure many a brek,
Many a man lay slawe ded sterk.
A riche kyng was called Philomene,
A worthi knyȝt, a kynde Troiene,
And also sir Palidomas,—
Thei two to-gedir met kyng Thoas:
¶ Thei layd vpon him bothe at ones,
Thei brosed his flesch and eke his bones;
His myght vayled him not of two lekes,
Thei toke him maugre his chekes.
Off that prese drow thei him out,
And drow him forth fro alle his rout.
¶ But that saw thenne the Murmydones,
How he was lad ffro his Gryffones;
But thei wolde him not so lete passe,
Thei gadered alle a-boute Thoas:
Thei tere for him many a ribbe
Off many lord & many sibbe,
And many an hed thei al to-schyuered,
And fro her hand thei him delyuered.
THo was Troyle ful sore tened:
That he was so dyght sore he mened,
He swor by god & by his swyre:
"Thei scholde abye that dyntes dere."
He strok his stede amonges hem alle,
Some he sclow & some mad falle,
He brak her hedes vnder her hode.
But thei manly a-ȝeyn him stode,
¶ Thei sclow vndir him his stede
That Troylus doun to grounde ȝede—
As he most nede—when his hors fayled.
But he lepe vp & hem assayled,
Gret defence gan he make;
But thei were besy him to take,
But he was closed him-self alone
Amonges hem on fote echone.
¶ But Paris thanne—whan he it wiste—
Amonges the Gregeis In he thriste;
His halff-brother with-al him with,
And many another of that kyth:
Thei brak with force her scheltroun,
And sclow ther many a Murmidoun.
Another hors to Troyle was broght,
And he lepe vp—as he neuere roght
Off no lyues man that was his foo—
He lepe vp sone as a roo.
For sir Troyle delyueraunce
An hard batayle & gret distaunce
Be-gan Paris & hem be-twene,
For Murimdones hadde mochel tene,
Gret Angwys, & mochel wo
That Troylus scholde so qwit go:
Thei leyde thanne Troiens hard vpon,
Thei sclow that tyme Margariton,
That was sir Troylus half-brother;
Ther died of Troyens many anMS. &. other
For the delyueraunce of sir Troyle,
Many a Troien to dethe did royle.
TRoyle was horsed atte devise
Vpon a stede of moche prise.
He thoght thei scholde not pas qwite;
He thoght to venge that foule dispite
And vilony that thei hadde tan,
Off hem that were his brothr ban:
He wounded hem, he felde & sclow,
And of her horses doun hem drow;
But thei were wyse of werre & sclye,
Styff & strong, & ful douȝtye:
¶ Thei saw thei were In gret perel,
Thei drow hem alle on a roundel
And of hem-selff made thei castel.
But that vayled hem not a wastel—
For Troyle was euere on hem so asper,
That many a riche ston of Iasper
Smot he a-way vpon her crestes,
And sclow hem as thei hadde ben bestes;
Thei lafft the feld & fledde hamward.
Then was comynge thedirward
The Emperour Agamenon
And The duk Thelamon,
With alle here men Vlixes,
So did the gentil Diomedes;
Menelaus come with hem thanne
With many a thousand armed menne:
The Murimdones thanne wel reschewed,
To the Troyens than no game growed,
For thei were some I-bore to grounde,
And many ther dede In that stounde.
But when Troyle saw hem come socour
And sclow his men so In that stour,
¶ No lenger thanne sir Troyle abode'Hic deficit' written in the margin by another hand.,
In-to that Cite sone he rode
Ther his men were most trauayled,
And he the lordis alle assayled:
He sclow her men & fouly fouled,
With hem so Troylus toyled,
That only thorow sir Troylus myght
So were the Gregeis al discomfyght
And flende faste as thei were wod,
That Troyle reved many his blod.
BVtMS. BVut. Ayax Thelamaneus,
That noble knyȝt & vigorous,
Come than doun with many a spere
The Troyens alle for to dere.
Duk Nestor with alle his myȝt
Come theder tho with many a knyȝt,
And the noble kyng Thoas.
Tho by-gan a grisly cas:
Thei that fledde turned aȝeyn,
Thei sclow the Troyens with myȝt & mayn;
¶ The Gregeis wan a-ȝeyn the feld
And droff hem than fro her tent & teld,
¶ Hic Achilles Interrogauit de hominibus suisque nouA.
And droff hem thanne a-ȝeyn her wil
With gret sorwe that place vn-til.
But for Troyle & al his myght
The Troyens were y-put to flyght,
The Gregeys folewes & made hem falle,
Thei flow to Troye the Troyens alle.
The day was gon, the nyght was comen,
The Gregeis went hom al & somen,
Thei wente home al vpon a rase
With her prisouns & her purchase.
THe Gregeis were fayn that it was nyȝt,
For thei hadde trauayled a-ȝeyn her myȝt;
For if the sonne had lenger schyned,
Off her folk schold thei haue tyned.
The Murimdones to-gedur alle
Ȝede to her lordes halle,
Alle for-wounded & for-bled.
He asked hem: "how thei hadde sped."
¶ Thei made to him a lothely playnt
And seyde: "thei were alle a-taynt
For gret angwys of that Iornay
That thei hadde suffred In fight that day."
Thei seyde also: "that many of his
Were sclayn at that gret appris."
He made hem come before him than
And tolde the bodyes of euery a man:
¶ When thei were rekened & told be tale
Be-fore Achilles In his hale,
He fond a thousand of hem fayled
Off knyȝtes that were y-rolled & tayled.
When thei were soght & alle ded founden,
He seyde: 'alas, that I was bounden
In womannes loue & womannes bounde!'
Whan so many were ded founde,
He siked sore for hem & drouped.
Ful litel mete that nyght he souped,
To his bed Achilles went
With carful herte & gret torment:
He wolde him-self hadde ben ded,
He wist neuere what was his red,
Whether he myght to batayle wende
To venge his men or eke his frende,
Or he scholde ȝit abyde
To wete wat grace myȝt be-tyde.
He thoght al nyght so faste & wepe,
That he myght for no thyng slepe:
¶ He thoght he wolde go at morne
And venge his men that were y-lorne,
That thei of Troye hadde foule sclayn;
But then thoght he aȝeyn
That if he [to] batayle ȝede,
Off his erand he scholde not spede,
Ne haue that louely to his wiff
That he loued more than his lyff:
That kynges douȝter Pollexene—
For he hadde het trewely the quene
¶ That he scholde neuere helpe Gregeis,
But lete hem worthe & holde his pays.
And if he ȝede tho & bikerd
Aȝeyn the trouthe that he hadde sikerd,
He myght lyghtly that louely [greue],
And thei scholde him no more leue,
But sey it were a fals couyne—
And so scholde he that lady tyne;
And leuer were him his lyff to-gang,
Er he for-ȝede hir loue out lang.
MAny dayes lyued he so lange
In these paynes styff & strange,
With-oute murthe and eke Ioye,
Til thei of Grece & thei of Troye
Scholde assemble to-gedur efft,
For that wolde thei for no thyng were lefft.
Til that on part Maystres were,
Wold thei not leue her werre there.
¶ But it were ouer-gret takyng,
And wel gret the makyng,—
To telle the fightis that thei fauȝt
And alle her dedis at alle her sauȝt,
To telle here dedis and here fyght
Be-twene Troy & Grece—by goddis myght!
Alle her dedis may I not telle,
For ther-vpon I wol not dwelle.
THe day is comen thei schul mete;
That foule baret wolde thei not lete,
Thei hadde to-geder so gret envy
That thei wold not leue her foly.
BotheBothe over But inserted by another hand. parties were redi dight,
Thei wente to-geder with al her myght:
And whan thei were to-geder met,
Echon of hem on other schet—
As thei hadde ben wode & mad.
Ther died many a lord & lad,
Many knyght & eke baroun,
And many other proude Gryffoun.
¶ Many a lord & gentil man
Was ded ther, er thei be-lan,
Many a kynges sone of kynde—
I may not make of alle mynde.
But seuen dayes with-oute les
Fauȝt thei to-geder with outen pes,
Day be day with-oute trewes,
Til thei hadde lorn many of the Grwes.
¶ Achilles euere In pes him held,
That he bar neuere helme ne scheld
Off al that while a-ȝeyn Troiens,
To dere none of here Citesens.
The Grewes by-gan faste to fayle,
The Emperour seyde thanne: 'hylhayle!
We may now sone be al for-done,
But if this lord helpe vs sone;
But Achilles on vs rewe,
Ther schal not skape of vs a Grewe!'
WHen thei hadde fouȝten seuen dayes,
Agamenon Priamus prayes
To graunte a trewes by othe & treuthe;
For it to se hit was moche reuthe,
How alle the feld lay ful of men
And lay & stank In that fen.
Trewes longe wolde thei haue had,
For Agamenon was sore a-drad
That he scholde many of his men lese
With hem of Troye & of Frese,
Iff thei mayntened lenger that stour;
Thei asked therfore a long soiour.
¶ But the Troyens seyde: "thei scholde non haue
But that thei myght her dede men graue;"
Thei wold no lenger the trewes graunte,
Thei held hem alle recreaunt.
And that rewed Agamenon sore
And alle the Gregeis that with him wore,
Thei myȝt no lenger the trewes haue;
That rewed hem sore—so god me saue!—
For thei were wounded and al to-bete,
And hadde biles and bocches grete
For strokes thei ȝaff & eke toke,
Whil thei to-gedur ffauȝt that woke.
But ȝit were thei of that trewe fayn
That thei myȝt bery that thei hadde sclayn,
Thei gadered alle the bodyes colde
That lay ther ded vpon the wolde;
And did alle the bodyes be brende,
Or the trewes was fully ende,—
Longe or the trewes was comen to ende,
That thei scholde efft to batayle wende.
THe trewes ar went that thei had set,
The day is comen of her baret:
Thei toke ther many a strok & ffylche,
Thei tare her plates and her pilche,
When bothe the parties to-geder were comen;
Many AneMS. Aue. his lyff was him be-nomen,
When bothe parties were met thare,
And to that batayle were alle ȝare.
¶ Sir Menelaus Paris sawe,
To him he thoght for to drawe;
He hadde gret wil & couetyse
To se sir Paris feet a-ryse.
He strok his stede & to him ran
For the loue of his lemman,
To grounde were thei y-bore bothe,—
The knyȝtes were that tyme so wrothe.
¶ Polidamas, Antenor sone,
With gret envy & gret raundone
For alle the men and al the pres
With his swerd he smot Vlixes;
But he ȝaff not ther-of an hawe,
For he him held with swerd y-drawe.
The noble vaylaunt Menescene
Smot Antenor—& that was sene,—
He ȝaff him suche a romelowe,
That he wente ouer his sadil-bowe;
¶ Hic Archilogus interfecit Gryme Gwynel.
He layde him as brod & flat
As is a pike when he is splat.
¶ Then come ridande Philomene,
A doghti kyng, a knyght Troyene:
Agamenon he assayled
That the blod of him doun rayled.
Philomene, of so gret myght,
Wolde ful euel haue him dyght,—
But that him come socour sone,
I trowe his dayes hadde ben done.
¶ But Thelameus to him toke hede
And saw that he of help hadde nede,
He toke a spere that was stalworthe,
And turned his hors & rod forthe:
To Agamenon he him hyed
And smot Philomene that he doun syed
FroMS. ffor. his hors for his labour,
For he wolde for to her Emperour.
STrong was the stour, perelous, & fel;
Ther was a knyȝt, het Gryme Gwynel,
He was on of Priamus sones—
As I fynde In thes Canones—
That he hadde geten In his purchase,
In his murthe & his solace.
Duk Nestor hadde a sone also,
A doghti knyght, Archilogo;
Thei mette to-geder, he & Gryme,—
A gret vn-hap! a foule fortune!
¶ Archilogus bare sir Gryme thorowe,
And lefft him ded In a forwe.
The Troyens made gret del ther-fore,
Ther died for him mo thenne foure score;
For when that tale to Troyle was told,
He myȝt not for him fro wepyng hold,
For he loued him with al his myght
For that he was so doghti a knyght.
Troylus eyen be-gan to slyse,
The Gregeis sone he gan dispyse:
Many for him he be-hedit,
Echon fro other he sone schedit;
Thei fled echon sir Troylus fro,
Thei made him way & lete him go;
He droff hem faste ouer doune & dale,
Among hem wroght he suche bale.
¶ Thei were ney dreven to her Pauylons,
Ne hadde thanne comen the Murondons;
But the[i] styffly aȝeyn him stode,
But Troylus ferd as he were wode:
Whan he saw hem aȝeyn him stande,
He rod to hem faste manassande;
Vpon her hedes sette he suche dyntes,
The fyr fley out as it were of fflyntes.
¶ He was so sore with hem greued,
That many an hed he ther to-cleued,
Here scheldes fro her scho[l]dres racched;
Ful many a Gregeis he ther atacched,
He bete hem so and so defouled,
That thei with blod were al be-stouled,
As thei were paynt with rede coloures;
He made hem like tormentoures,
Thei toke of him many a cloute.
Tho with al the haste that thei moute
¶ Thei turned the bak and fro him ȝede,—
On rounsi prekand, and on stede,—
Til thei were comen to her hales,
To saue her lyff ther In her sales.
But Troyle & his afftir hem sted,
Thei sclow many of hem that fled;
¶ Hic fugerunt ad tentorias suas.
To her tentis he hem droff.
But ther turned thei a-ȝeyn & stroff,
For thei of Troye her dyche wolde wynne,
But thei wolde not that thei come Inne:
¶ Thei gadered alle vpon a route,
To holde the Troyens tho with-oute;
But Troyens doun of her hors lyght,
And than be-gan the perilous fyght:
For Troyens be-gan foule to fare;
Than by-gan Gregeis kare,
The Troyens felde hem In her dike;
Tho by-gan thei sore to sike;
¶ Her myȝt was nouȝt a-ȝeyn Troiens.
Troylus then, & Philomens,
And kyng Mennon made thanne entre
And made hem fro her men to fle;
Thei flowe alle In-to her tentis,
Many of the Gregeis her deth hentes:
THei made of hem gret tormentry,
Ther was an hidous noyse & cry,
Thei sclow hem In her pauylons;
Wel delful was of hem the sounes,
So wonderful and meruelous
That hit was dredful & hidous:
Hit ferde as hit hadde thondrid,
Achilles was ther-of a-wondrid
¶ Off wham he herde that delful cry,
He saw men come prikande him by
That flede fro that scomfiture,
Makynge sorwe with-oute mesure.
Thei seyde: "alas that thei come thore,
For thei were lorn for euere-more!"
With-out his tent smartly sterte he,
To se what dele that myght be.
AChilles was gretly meruayled
What hem of Grece ayled.
He asked hem: "whi thei so ferde?
And what was the noyse that he herde?"—
'How dos oure kynges, and oure Gregeis?
How bere thei hem a-ȝeyn the Frigais?'
¶ 'Louely lord'—sayde thei that ffledde—
'We are so hurt and so for-bledde,
That we Are alle of nompower
Aȝeyn hem to fyght any lenger.
Iff ȝe wol off vs tydandis here,
Carful tydandes may ȝe lere;
¶ Herkenes now of oure tythandes!
Sicurly, lord, now vndirstandes:
Ȝe schal neuere on lyue se Gryffons,
Ne non of alle ȝoure Murimdons.
We telle ȝow, lord, that thei of Grece
Schal sone be hewen al to pece,
For thei are alle discomfit
And alle haue taken the flyt;
¶ Thei are alle fled In-to her tentis,
Ther many of hem the dethe hentis.
Thei defended here entres,
But thei felde doun bothe cordes & tres,
And sclow oure Gregeis cruelly,
Woundes & stikes with-oute mercy.
Hem fayles now the grete socour,
And this is, lord, the grete clamour
Off hem that dye, that grysly bray,—
That ȝe haue herd and ȝit may.
¶ Thei schal alle dye, er that thei sese;
And ȝe that wene to stonde In pese,
Ȝe schal se sone on ȝow comande
Mo then ffyue & ffyffty thousande
Hic Achilles Iratus est.
Off armed men & armed knyȝtes
That haue sclayn ȝoure men now rightes,—
For thei haue slayn of ȝoure gode men,
Er we come thedir, thousandes ten,
¶ And ȝet to scle thei not be-lyn;—
And iff thai fynde the her-In
In ȝoure tent naked stondande,
Thei leue the not on lyue lyuande;
For al the gold of hethen Spayne
Leue ȝe not here vnsclayne,
For thei hate ȝow ouer alle thyng.
For Ector deth—by heuene kyng!—
That were, lord, her herte wil,
Might thei, lord, thi body spil.'
AChilles chaunged al his mode,
He loked aboute as he were wode
When he herde this tydynges:
He clapped his hondes, and alle his rynges
Sicurly In-sonder brast;
To and fro his armes he cast,
As he hadde ben a wod man;
Wel harde to swete he be-gan.
¶ Achilles seyde on that wolde
To him that these tydandes tolde:
'Is ouȝt Troyle In that place,
That makes oure men thus to chase?'
He sayde: 'lord, ther he is,
And alle oure men he dos amys;
For his wodnesse & his deray
Alle oure men ben fled a-way;
¶ For he is so strong In his myght,
Ther may non a-byde him In fight.'
'Alas!' he seyde, 'that euere Moder me bar!
Whi ne were I right now thar?
¶ Hic Achilles Iratus est.
Alas that euere me Moder bounde
Or euere InMS. Or euere me In. cradel me be-wounde!
That I scholde for a wommanes sake
Let my enemys suche murther make
Off my Men and of my kyn,
And do ther-of no medicyn!'
¶ He was so fulMS. sul. of tene & ire
That he bad fecche his atire;
He for-ȝate ther Polexene
And al that he be-het the qwene.
His stede was sone jMS. ɉ.-dight
With clene harneis & bridel bryght,
He lepe vp anon vpon his stede
And sprang forth as spark of glede.
AChilles rides as a man mad,
For his men was he not glad;
He myght that tene no lenger thole,
He brende In yre as any cole;
When he herde hem so grysly grone,
For hem he made moche mone:
As lyoun rampyng forth he went,
Wel Armed, out of his tent,
To socoure his men and helpe his Danes.
When he hem mette a-mong the Troyanes,
He sclow hem faste as a tyraunt,
Many a man made he criaunt;
¶ He slees & felles al that he metes,
Thei falle thikkere than heryng fletes
In-myddes the se In here scole.
Alle men, thei knewe by his tole:
His sword was other halff fote brode;
Thorow the Troyens bodyis it glode.
Thei knewe him that smot so sore,
Alle were a-drad that were thore,
¶ Hic Achilles pugnauit cum Troianis.
Whan thei saw that he cam.
Off hem made he gret Marterdam:
Euery forow Achilles filled,
With dede bodies the erthe he hilled
That he hadde sclayn In that stour,
Sithe he was comen, In litel hour.
¶ Ther was kyng ne knyȝt so gode,
That thei ne fled as thei were wode;
His noble sword, his bryght bronde,
Was blody doun to his honde
For men that he hadde ther sclawe,
Off many a knyght broght he of dawe.
He fferde as it were a deuel of helle,
Lord! the peple that he gan qwelle!
Thei flow tho ffro her tent & hale,
In the diches thei hadde mochel bale.
The Murimdones come anon,
Now many Troyen to dethe gon;
Thei sorwed & cried as thei were wode,
Many walwes In his blode.
THe Gregeis tho were glad & blythe
And thonked her goddis offte sythe,
That he was comen to that batayl.
Troylus then gan him meruayl:
"What deuel In helle hit myȝt be
That made the Troyens so to fle?"
By his swerd he him ches,
He wiste ther-by hit was Achilles
That made his Troyens so to fle;
Wod & wrothe thanne gan he be,
Durste no man aske whi he were wroth,
When he bare armes aȝeyn his oth.
¶ As a lyoun rores, to him he cried,
With hardy herte he him defied:
¶ Hic Achilles wlneratus est.
'In helle'—seyde he—'mot thow be loken!
Hastow now thin owne othe broken?
Thow hast euere ben a fals faytour,
A losenger, a fals traytour!
Were the fro me, I the defy,
For if I may, thow schalt a-by!'
He let his stede to him flyng
Als harde as he myght slyng;
And he to him with al his myght,
For he at him hadde gret dispit
¶ For his wordes & his reueri
Bothe of falsnes & losengeri
That he on him bare; that he wolde proue:
And ther-to he profered forth his gloue.
Him hadde leuere than al that I can telle,
That he myȝt Troyle qwelle.
STrong & stiff & hardi bothe
Were the knyghtes that were wrothe:
Eyther on other her speres poygned,
Wel hard to-geder tho thei Ioyned,
Her scheldis roff, here speres brast,
The knyghtes bothe to grounde were cast,
That nother of hem with-oute wounde
Thei myght not rise nother hol ne sounde.
¶ Achilles for-sothe was euel hurt,
Vpon his feet wel sone he sturt
And drow his swerd as man of myght,
And wolde haue sclawe that gentil knyght.
But alle the Troyens on an hepe
By-fore him than wel sone gan lepe,
And doghti Troyle so thei defende
That Achilles myght not come him hende,
And ladde him home out of that place.
Tho was it tyme to leue the chace,
For hit was al atte nyght,
And thei were weri of that fyght,
That hem lust to take her rest;
For that were thanne alther best.
Achilles gan faste hamward gange;
Many day afftir & lange
Lay he seke In his bed;
Off his wounde was he sore dred,
For hit greued him so sore,
He thoght to venge him efft ther-fore.
THe Troyens thanne toMS. of. Troye ȝede alle
And Troylus to his fader halle,
He tolde him of the deth of Brunes;
Then were mad hidus tuynes
Off many a gentil damysel
For the deth of Gryme Gwynel.
He tolde him also of the Iornay:
"How thei hadde fouȝten to-gedur that day,
And how Gregeis were discomfith
And foule put to the flyȝt;
And how thei felde her Pauylons,
And scholde haue sclayn alle the Gryffons
¶ Er euen-tyde at his hopyng,
Hadde thei had no socoryng
Off doghti sir Achilles,
That foule ferde among her pres;"—
'That Ilke knyght him-selff alone
Maked oure men to fle echone
For any thyng that we coude do,
And made vs lese oure worschepe so.'
¶ When Priamus herde these tydandis—
That Achilles aȝeyn couenandis
That he hadde made & hem be-het
At thatMS. And at that. Cf. l. 14313 & note. Iorne hem hadde let
And at thatMS. At that. Cf. l. 14312 & note. semble sclayn his folk,—
His herte for tene be-gan to bolk;
Off tho tythandes was he not payde,
His wiff ful foule he myssayde:
'Certis, I was'—he seyde—'ful wrecched
That I scholde by the so be drecched,
Vn-to thi wordes that I ȝaff ffayth!'—
Priamus to his wiff sayth—
¶ 'This falsMS. sals. traytour has vs by-swyked,
For my doghter vnto him lyked;
He dede it certes for oure ille,
For he of here wolde haue his wille
And holde hir In lecherie
With his scleyȝt & trecherie,
And do vs alle a foule repreue
As a fals for-sworen theffe.
¶ And that semes by his falshede:
ForMS. for. now he may not of hir spede
At his wille by his dissayte;
He be-thenkes him now ful strayte,
How he may best schende me & myne;
That myght thow se with thin eyne.
And elles hadde he holde couenaunt,—
But he is fals & euel thynkand
And doth alle thyng with gylerye,
With no manhed ne chyualrie.'
HEctuba was sore aschamed
Off here lord that sche was blamed,
Hir Angred sore that euere spak sche
Ther-of wordes two or thre;
Sche cursed offte his wickednesse,
His gylrie and his falsnesse.
And that mayden Pollexene
Ther-of was offte blo & grene,
Hit Angerd hir sore & displesed,
Whan that hir loue hade soMS. hade him so. spysed
That he be-het hir moder & here;
Gret othes he made & by god swere,
That he ne scholde helpe Gregeis more
The while that thei dwelled thore.
¶ Sche chaunged chere & eke corage,
For sche wolde fayn the mariage.
The kyng & quene were euel lykyng
For that dede,—by heuene kyng!
Thei sette trestles & layde bordes
With litel Ioye of any wordes;
When thei hadde souped, thei wente to bedde,
Thei swor he scholde hir neuere wedde.
THe Gregeis hem Armed, when it was day;
Saue Achilles In his bed lay,
For his woundes he myȝt not ryse
For alle the gode In that emprise.
When Troyens herde the waytes horn,
Thei ros vp erly on the morn;
¶ Eche man thanne his armes craues,
Thei bad her ȝomen and her knaues
Dight her hors & sadel hem faste.
TheMS. Thei. sadeles on hem sone were caste
With double gerth as thei most nede,
To make hem strong thei toke hede;
Many a stede broght thei forthe
That gret tresour & mechel were worthe;
¶ Her helmes were on her ventayles sperde.
Thei lepe vp & forward ferde
With-oute the toun vpon a renge.
By dere god! hit was elenge
Eche a day se hem so fare,
How echon other al to-tare!
¶ Hic ibant ad prelium & pugnauerunt .vijtem. dies.
When thei were met, ther was no laughter,
But moche wo & gret sclaughter.
THe Troyens had take the Champayn,
Thei are batayled In-myddis the playn.
And thei of Grece when thei beheld
How thei of Troy hadde taken the feld,
Thei sente to hem her vanwarde
With brode baneres & hye standarde;
And thei come afftir with many a knyȝt,
With kynges & dukes of moche myȝt,
With many a louely fair pensel
Off gold, of Inde, of fair sandel.
Thei ran to-gedir, when thei a-proched,
Euery man thorow-out other broched;
With speres, swerdes, & knyues
EchonMS. Echon on. other al to-ryues.
¶ But I may not her dedis alle sigge,
Therfore mote I my boke a-bregge;
For to telle al that thei did thereMS. thore.
Til ende scholde I com nere.
But .vij. dayes fro thei be-gan,
Thei fauȝt to-geder & neuere blan,
Til thei myȝt for wery no more,—
Her bodyes & bones were so sore,
And alle her bones ful sore aked,
And thei were wery & for-waked;
And al the feld was be-sprad
With dede bodyes,—who myght be glad?
Off bothe parties were many dede,
The nombre of hem coude I not rede.
¶ Seuen dayes fauȝt thei to-gedre,
And al that while was mury wedre.
For whan thei hadde fouȝten .vij. dayes
With-oute rest to-gedur al-weyes,
¶ Hic Greci miserunt nuncios suos ad Troianum.
¶ Agamenoun thenne assayed,
Wh[er]e that fight myȝt be delayed,
Vntil Achilles couered woreo altered from e.
Off his sekenesse & of his sore;
For th[e]i were not at no defence,
But he were ther In presence.
He sente to Troye his messageres,
That were wel gode latymeres,
That coude wele say her Message
And vndirstande many langage.
¶ He bad hem wende to Priamus,
To Paris, & to gode Troylus,
And pray hem ffor her goddis sake:
"Be-twene vs a trewe to make
A six monethe & no day wane,—
For dede men are oure alther bane,
We may for hem be lyghtly schent,
But if thei be the sonner brent.
Ȝeue vs leue her bodies brenne,
And hele the while oure seke menne,—
And thei may haue the same merit
Thorow the trewe & this respit."
THe gode kyng Vlixes,
And his felawe Diomedes,
To do this erande thei ben chosed:
Thei did on robes wel a-losed
And furred wel with riche Ermyn,
As kynges that were of gentil kyn;
Thei were richly apparayled
With riche gerdeles wel Anamayled,
Thei drow riche hodes of ther pile
That alle were sewed with riche orivile;
Thei wente to Troye In gode aray,—
How richeli dyght, can I not say.
When thei of Troye sei hem come naked,
Thei hoped a trewe scholde be maked
Be-twene hem and Grece kyng;
Glad were thei In here thingkyng.
¶ Aȝeyns the kynges was done vp the ȝate,
The kynges reden In ther-ate;
Thei ride hem forth hand In hand
With louely chere & fair semblaunt:
Thei wente In-to that riche palais
And grete the kyng with wordes curteis;
And he ȝeld sone her metyng
And thanked sone her wel-comyng,
And sayde "thei were wel-come him to,"
And asked "what thei wolde haue do?"
ULixes kyng & his ffelawe
By-fore the kyng a gode thrawe
Stode spekand & told her tale
Be-fore the Troyens In that sale;
He seyse: 'sir, and ȝoure wille were,
Herkenes now vnto me here!
And I schal telle, sir kyng, to ȝow
Whi we are comen hidur now:
¶ Agamenoun, oure Emperour,
That is oure a[l]ther gouernour,
Bad vs two hedur go
To ȝow, sir kyng, with-outen mo
To aske a trewe, if ȝe assent
With ȝoure consail & parlement.
It is long tyme sithen we vs rest,
Off medecyne haue we mechel brest;
¶ We haue fouȝten dayes many,
That vnnethes of vs is any
That we [n]are wounded or vnhesed,
Strongly hurt or envysed,
¶ Hic pecierunt pacem per .vj. Menses.
Or bitterly beten with bitter strokes;
We wolde ther-fore haue help of leches
To hele oure woundes, er we fauȝt efft.
We may wilne that it were lefft,
Til weMS. he. be hole-he bad vs say,—
A six moneth euery day.
¶ He wolde the trewe were be-twene vs fest,
Til we were heled In the best,
And ȝe ȝoure-selff to reste haue nede
To hele ȝoure sores—so god me spede!
For I trowe ȝe haue som part—
Off spere or sword or of dart—
Off som brysure or som wounde,
Ȝe are not al hol ne sounde.
I wil therfore ȝow not fode,
We mot be-twene vs bere euen lode:
Ȝiff ȝe the trewes assente to,
Ȝe may hele ȝow, and we also.'
PRiamus seyde: 'iff my consayle
These couenandes wil entayle,
I schal acorde to here Iugement
By gode a-surte and sacrament.'
He wente fro hem out of that halle
And called his men abouten him alle.
¶ He seide: 'lordynges, ȝe ben alle here,
Ȝe are of my counseyl al plenere,
And ȝe haue herd what these men aske.
Telles me now sone In haste:
Hope ȝe hit be oure profite
To take suche trewe & respit?
What schal I say to thes lordynges,
These Messageres, these riche kynges?
Wol ȝe the trewe? what is ȝoure wit?
Are ȝe wele avised ȝit?
Avise ȝow wel, ar ȝe hem graunt,
That ȝe be not afftir repentaunt.'
Thei seyde alle: 'sir, we be a-vysed:
Thei haue the trewe wel devysed,
We graunte the trewes aȝeyns vs.'
'And I for me'—seyde Priamus.
¶ Priamus ran to halle a-valed,
Ther these kynges to-gedur taled;
He sayde: "that he and his baronage
Wolde graunte the terme by gode ostage
A six monethe til thei were heled,
By siker dedes wel asseled."
He bad hem go sauely aȝeyn
And holde the trewes for-sothe certayn,—
¶ "For he & his scholde by her othe
Holde hem stable for leue or lothe;"
And bad: "that thei scholde do so als,
That thei were not founden fals;
And that euery man with-oute debate
Scholde gon & come erly and late
With-outen robbyng or reuyng,
With-oute any debate-makyng."
These kynges swor bothe this—
"So god ȝeue hem Ioye and blis."
Priamus ȝaff hem gode conge,
To wende her way and wel be.
NOw ride these kynges murily,
To-gedir rydande Ioyfully;
Thei are ful fayn that thei haue sped,
Off no-thyng now are thei adrad.
Vnto her tentis are thei reden;
Thei haue ther not longe abyden,
Thei hied hem to her Emperour,
Ther he sat vndir his couertour.
In his teldis thei him fond,
Thei seyde: "thei hadde ben on his sond,
And that thei hadde wele done his nedis."
And [he] hem blessed for her dedis;
He asked: "whether thei treweus hadde
A six monethe, as he hem badde?"
And thei sayde: 'ȝe, sir, sicurly!
Thei schal be holden treuly
¶ The trewes stable a six monethe,
On payne to lese bothe lym & lythe;
And ther-to haue we hondes holden
And truthisMS. thruthis. plyȝt & fyngres folden.'
The tydandes ran fro halle to halle,
Eche man tolde other this tale:
"How here kynges haue ben at Troye
And brouȝt tydandes of moche Ioye,
How thei scholde reste a wel gode while."
Eche man thanne be-gan to smyle.
AGamenoun than was wel glad,
And so was euery lord & lad,
And euery a knyght that vndirstandis
The right sothe of these tythandes.
Now euery man helis his soris,
Euery man his tentis restoris
Off mete & drynke & other store,
Wel better than thei were ore.
¶ Thei were fayn of that grace
Off her trewe so long a space,
Vntil Achilles were y-couered.
Many a lord ouer him houered
Eche day him to solace;
He gan Troyle faste manace.
¶ He seyde: "when he hadde hele,
That he wolde with Troy[l]e dele,
He wolde not lette for al Fraunce
But he tok of him vengaunce."
Thei sayde: "that Troyens were dissayued,
And that thei nere not persayued
To graunte the trewes when thei it asked,
For thei scholde now be euel a-tasted,
Thei graunt the trewes In the dismole.
For were it so that he were hole,
He scholde scle Troyle and alle thos other,
As he hadde done Ector, his brother."
WEle was hem thei scholde soiorne,
It was for hem a noble turne:
Thei gadered grases on eche halue,
And made plastres & eke salue,
Thei dyght here woundes that sore gored.
Off mete & drynke thei ben wel stored,
Thei played at the chesse & tables,
And ete & drank and tolde fables.
And alle the leches that crafftly were
In al the ost that tyme there,
¶ Alle that coude of surgerye,
Off Plasteres and of herberye,—
Hadde Achilles In that cure
To hele his woundes & his visure:
Thei ȝaff to him wel gode kepyng
To brynge him to his right slepyng,
Thei made him drynkes of gode licour
And broght a-ȝeyn his fair colour;
¶ Thei ȝaff him drynke many skyns,
And heled him vp with medycyns,
That he was hole, stalworthe, & fere
In his strengthe & playn power,
Er euere the trewes come fully out.
Then were the Gregeis bolde & stout,
¶ Hic Troiani ordinauerunt magnum Bellum.
Whan he was hole & ȝede on fete.
For tene his herte wex grete,
That Troyle did him the vilony;
He hadde to him gret envy,
He swore by god that dwelled In heuene
He scholde him scle for odde or euene.
AChilles is hol & clene In myȝt,
Bold and strong, semely In syȝt,
For he is hol In flesch & fel,
And as hole as any pykerel.
Hit drawes faste vnto that day,
That thei most nede leue her play
And bygynne aȝeyn the werre,
For no man may ther-fro hem sterre;
Vntil that on for ay & euere
Be al for-done, thei blyn neuere.
¶ Euery man ordeynes now his gere,
Sadel, & bridel, & stalworthe spere,
Fresche atyre, wel gode newe helmes,
And made hem gode staues of oke & elmes
Ful of warres and of knottis,
Piked staues with heuy bottis.
Achilles thinkes day & nyghtis,
How he may sle douȝti knyȝtis;
He nolde it lette for non auȝt
That any man him ȝeue mauȝt.
WHen the trewes were alle gone,
And th[e]i were heled euerychone,
And day was comen thei scholde fyght,
And thei were rysen & redy dight,—
Eche man In his armure
On gode stedis, be ȝe sure!—
The Troyens ride to Ilyon;
Kyng Philomene & Mennon,
Odeman & Eueas,
Antenor and Palamydas,
And eche a lord ȝede with his ost;
And alle men houed then a-cost
¶ Aboute Ilyon, that riche palais,
To here what Troyle to hem says:
"How he here batayles wolde devise,
In what manere and what wyse;
Ho schal haue the vaunwarde,
Who the myddel, and ho the rerewarde?"
So were thei redi In that mornyng,
Al redi dyght by sone rysyng.
DOghti Troyle faste him payned
That thei were wel ordeyned;
When thei were ordeyned wele & clene,
He bad hem go forth al be-dene,
Euery lord with his Eschele,
And come aȝeyn with Ioye & hele.
The ȝate was than vndone & opone
That we by-fore hadde of y-spoken,
That ȝate was cleped Dardanydes:
Ther was of knyȝtes mechel pres,
¶ At the ȝates thei outward issed,
As doughti Troyle hem hadde wissed;
Thei ride to-gedir vpon a rase
Toward Gregeis a gode pase,
Til thei were comen nye here lystes.
Thei houed stille at here tristes,
Til thei se Gregeis oute comande
With brode baneres a-boute wayvande.
¶ Troyle now rides and his Troyanes
With his burgeis & Citeȝaynes
Out off Troye—alas the wo!
For he schal dye, er he then come ffro.
Alas Troye! what is thi grace?
To the fel neuere gode trace,
To the fel neuere gode chaunce,
Ne non of alle thi retenaunce!
Thoow thow be gay & glorious,
Thow were euereSome letters erased between were and euere. on-gracious!
Off thow hede of Cites were,
Blysful hap to the fel neuere!
For better men were neuere lyuand,
Than were that tyme to the longand;
And ȝit was it here alther schap,
That thei died alle by myshap.
¶ Ther-fore I trowe In my thoght:
Aȝens godis wille so were theiMS. we. wroght.
Hadde destyne ben Ector frende,
Or doghti Troylus that was so hende,
The Gregeis nad not hem sclayn;
But destene turned hem aȝeyn,
Destyne was here enemy
And sclow hem bothe vnhappily.
And also died alle that other kynde
Off gode men that were In mynde.
THe Gregeis saw the Troiens come
Out of Troye alle on a throme,
Armed wel In her maneres,
With faire penseles & brode baneres.
The wannward than to hem thei sende,
The MiddelwardMS. Mildelward. come afterhendeMS. asterhende.,
The rerwarde dwelled lange.
But when Achilles scholde out gange,
¶ He gart his men vnto him calle;
And when thei stode aboute him alle,
He sayde to hem with glad chere:
'Ȝe ar my frendes leue & dere,
¶ Hic ibant ad prelium.
I wot wel ȝe loue me mechel
With trewe herte & no-thyng fikel,
And to do my byddyng are ȝe meke;
Now for my loue I ȝow be-seke:
To my sawe ȝe ȝeue good tent,
And beth to me obedient.
¶ Ȝe wot wel what affray
I toke of Troyle that other day,
Wiche an harm and a wounde;
And how I fel vpon the grounde;
Bode I neuere scuche a dispit.
Now helpis me that it were qwit;
But I be venged of that boy,
In myn herte gete I neuere Ioy.
THer-fore for my loue I ȝow pray
That ȝe do as I ȝow say:
That ȝe this day ȝeue no gome
To kyng ne knyȝtMS. knytt, but the scribe has tried to alter the first t to ȝ. ne to grome,
Man to sle ne to take,
Ne non assaut to non make,—
But beth besi on alle thing,
How ȝe may him among ȝow bryng!
¶ When ȝe thedir comen are
And ȝe of him may be ware,
Be-closes him al a-boute
That he fro ȝow go not oute,
And stondis a-boute him on a throme
That non of his may to him come
Him to defende fro myn hond.
Ful stille aboute ȝit ȝe stond,
And lete vs two oure myght schewe;
And I schal that boy al to-hewe.
But loke that no man to vs come,
That fro my hand that he be nome;
¶ Hic preliauerunt.
I schal him ful wel qwite
That his spere did on me bite,
And thus may I haue my wille
That foule boy for to spille.
¶ Ther-fore I pray ȝow alle—
For any thyng that may be-falle,
And as I am ȝoure a[l]ther lord—
That ȝe be alle at this acord
And ȝif to no-thyng elles kepe.'
And with that word Achilles wepe,—
So wolde he fayn on him be venged.
The batayles ben to-gedir renged,
Thei of Troye & thei of Grece;
Thei hewe here bodies al to pece,
Thei did gret sorwe & mechel wo,
Whan thei gan to-gedir go.
THe stoure is styff & strong be-gonnen,
Euery man on other is ronnen,
Thei haue her speres brosten & broken,
Ful ffewe wordes ther were spoken;
At that tyme were many kastoun
A-ȝeyn the grounde that al to-brastoun,
Ther died many at that torpel.
But then come Troyle, y-armed wel,
With mechel peple of Armed knyȝtes
Come he thedir at that riȝtes;
With scheld enbrased & spere enbossed
A-mong the Gregeis he ran & pressed:
That he to ran, dethe was his dome;
Wel euel was he thedir wel-come.
¶ When Troyle hadde broken his spere,
He toke his swerd that wel coude schere,
It was trenchaund & wel poynted,
With Gregeis blod it was anoynted
Fro the poynt to the hilte,
Ful many Gregeis hadde it spilte.
He rased scheldes ffro here neckes,
He teres the mayles as it were sekkes,
¶ He bare hem doun to grounde al fflat,
He ȝaff hem many a sori sqwatMS. sq᷉wat.;
He droff doun alle that come him by,
As doth bestes that ben hungry.
Thei were noght to him worth a schelle,
He blan neuere to scle & felle
Fro he come thedir to the mydday,
That thei fro him ffled a-way;
Thei fled echon by on red,
And elles thei hadde ben alle ded.
HIt was a litel be-fore the none,
A-boute mydday, that this was done
That thei of Grece ffro Troyle fled,
So were thei of his strokes dred.
But Achilles ne none of hese
Were comen not to that purprese;
But when he herde hem criande,
He loked & sey hem fleande,
He saw hem flee fro that purprise,
He bad his men be war & wyse.
He was y-armed at alle rightes,
Strong & hole In alle his myghtes;
¶ He tok his swerd that was so gode,
Hit wolde bite as it were wode,
Ther was none suche hard ne towe;
Many a Troyen ther-with he sclowe.
He bad his men: "so mote thei thee"—
'Socoures now hem that now dothe fle!
Helpis now, for thei haue nede!'
Achilles than to hem ȝede,
¶ He bad his men thenk on his spellis
And attende to [no] man ellis;
And thei bad him be not abayst,—
"But on him he scholde trayst."
He passed forth with his meyne
And socoured hem that he saw fle,
Thei mette the Troyens In her wyse
Thei bare hem doun at the burdise.
¶ Achilles and his Murimdones
Socoured alle her Gryffones;
For by her help and her comyng
Thei were tho lettid In her chasyng,
And Gregis keuered a-ȝeyn the feld
And made good visage with spere & scheld
To her enemys ful boldely
And fauȝt with hem apertlyt very indistinctly inserted over line..
GRegais turned and gete the place,
For Troyens were let of here chace.
The Murimdones for-ȝete no-thyng
What was her lordes faire praying:
Among Troyens bothe ner & fer
Thei loked aboute In euery corner
Off that batayle afftir sir Troyle,
Iff thei saw owqher that knyȝt royle.
So were Thei war where he stode
Scleande Gregeis as he were wode:
¶ He was that tyme hi[m]-selff alone,
Off hyse that tyme with him were none;
Him faste ffyghtand alone thei founde
Opon the Gregais In that stounde.
Thanne wente aboute him alle that frape,
That he myȝt no-wayes skape,
And made a scheltrone him aboute
And spered him fro alle his route.
¶ Hic Achilles occidit Troylum.
Off Gryffons come ther many a knyȝt
And halp the Murimdones with her myȝt.
¶ Achilles—lord! that he was glad!
Off alle the world no more he bad!
He come ridande on his stede,
Off sir Troyle toke he gode hede
How he sclow doun right his men
That thei lay dede In the fen.
'Turne the'—he seyde—'fals gadelyng!
Thow schalt now dye—by heuene kyng!
My dispite schaltow sore abigge!
Kepe the fro me! I the sigge.'
¶ Thei drow her swerdes that were gode
And hew to-gedir as thei were wode,
The rede blod ran by here side,
Thei made hem woundes longe & wyde:
Achilles hewys In-two his mayles,
The rede blod afftir rayles;
He hew the helme al of his hede,
His scheld sone he him be-reued.
But Troyle defendis him by his myȝt
With al his strengthe, that gentil knyȝt.
BVt Achilles was so strong
That he myȝt not endure long,—
No man myght to him come
For Murimdones that stode athrome,
The Gregeis also with al here myght[es]
Passyng twenty thousand knyghtes.
¶ Troyle was weryy seems to be corrected from i., he myght not sitte,
He was al faynt & out of witte
For the blod that he gan blede,
Tho fel he doun of his stede.
Achilles tho lyght glad ynow
And his noble swerd out-drow
¶ Lamentacio Troianorum.
And smot his hed fro the body
And throwMS. drow. it away dispitously;
He tyed his body at his hors tayl
And drow him tho thorow the batayl.
¶ Achilles has sir Troyle sclayn,
And ther-of he is wonder fayn;
Michel schame & vylony
Did he tho that dede body:
He tied him at his hors ers
And drow him ouer myre & Mers,
Thorow her ost & her batayle
He drow him at his hors tayle—
As he hadde ben a cut-purs,
Ne myȝt he him haue don no wors.
¶ When it was told sir Palidomasidomas written by another hand on erasure.,
Antenor, & sir Eueas,—
And his brother sir Paris
When he herde telle of this,
He myght not speke noMS. speken o. word, but swoun,
Among hem alle tho fel he doun.
¶ The Troyens than hadde sorwe y-now,
When thei saw how he him drow,
Thei ran on the Grues alle on a res
To reue sir Troyle ffro Achilles.
But thei of Grece so with-stode
With egre wil & sturdy mode,
That thei myght not the Gregeis twyn
Ne that body fro hem wyn.
A wonder stoure and a cruel
Be-gan thei thanne & a mortel,
For alle the Troyens ther-aboute
Gadered hem vpon a route,
The ded body fro him to reue;
But Gregeis wolde it not leue.
Achilles cleues alle her bones,
For sorwe thei crye & bitterly grones.
¶ But when Mennon, that noble kyng,
Off Troyle herde this tydyng,
Whan he wyste that he was sclayn
And thorow that ost so foule drawyn,—
An hundrid sithe he seyde 'alas!'
So was him wo that he ded was:
"Alas!"—seyde he that tyme & tyde—
"That euere scholde he that day a-byde
To se so noble a doghti knyght
Be so distroyed & foule dyght!'
With sore herte thorow alle that prese
Cried Mennon to Achilles,
¶ When he was comyn to him neye;
He sayde: 'traytour, I the defye!
To thiMS. his. hors tayl that knyght to bynde,
In thi foule herte how myght thow fynde?
And drawe him thorow bekke & broke
That gentil knyȝt that thow so toke,
That was so gode of vasselageMS. basselage.,
Off douȝtines & of corage!
Ware the, traytour, now for me!
By him that made leff on tre:
Thow schalt him no further drawe
With-oute harm for loue ne awe!'
LOrd, that Achilles was wode!
That alle tho chaunged his blode!
That he sette him so at noght,
He thoght it scholde be dere a-boght;
He smot tho kyng Mennon a-ȝeyn
With al his power & his mayn,
And kyng Mennon to him with that;
But Achilles In his sadel sat.
But thorow his scheld & Aketoun
He smot Achilles In that raundoun;
¶ Achilles was sore aschamed
And of that dede foule a-gramed,
Opon his swerd his hond he layde
And swere by othe and seyde:
"That he scholde doun for leue or lothe!"—
And therto Achilles swor his othe.
¶ Achilles smot that knyȝt sore,
That he fel doun of his hors thore
Opon the grounde In a ded swone,
And of his hors he fel a-doune.
The Troyens than fro him wan;
But ȝit ther died many a man
With dynt of sword In that batayle,
Thei suffred ther ful mechel trauayle.
THe while thei were at this fight,
The Troyens with strengthe & myght
Troylus body a-way thei stale
As faste as thei myght hale,
Til it was stolen out of that ost,
Vndir a dike layde a-cost.
Than gan these ostis parte atwynne,
For of that fyghtyng wold thei blynneMS. thei not blynne.;
And kyng Mennon a hors was brouȝt,
But arst with Troyens was hit ful touȝt.
¶ But it was euen, they myȝt not dwelle,
Thei departed, as I ȝow telle:
Hit was ney the euenyng,
The sonne was ney at his settyng;
And bothe parties hamward drow,
For thei hadde foghten long y-now.
The Gregeis ȝede to here tentis;
And Paris vp that body hentes,
And a-none hamward gan royle,
And ledde with him the body of Troyle.
THei haue her fyght for this day ent;
And thei of Troy hamward went,
The dede body with hem thei ledde,
Al of blod it is be-bled.
At euery temple the belles ronge,
Euery man wepe, and no man songe;
And ther-by wiste alle tho of Troye
That some of heres were dede & foye.
Philomene & kyng Mennon
That body bar to Ylion,
And alle the Troyens on a rowe
With loude criyng and moche harrowe.
¶ When thei of Troye hadde herd that cry,
Thei asked "how?"—the chesoun whi
Thei cried so and wepe so sore—
"And what he was that thei bare thore?
Iff he were lord of gret renoun?
Or any kyng of any regioun?"
And thei answered & seyde a-ȝeyn:
"That it was Troyle that ther was sclayn."
¶ When thei of Troye the sothe wiste,
Ther was wrongen many a ffiste.
'Alas'—thei seide—'now he is ded,
Now are we alle with-outen red!'
Thei wyste tho to lese her lyues,
Bothe here children & here wyues,
And alle the godis euere thei aught;
Off here lyues tho rouȝte thei naught.
¶ The sorwe that the fadir made!
Ther was no man that him myght glade.
Out off sorwe was not the quene,
Ne his suster Pollexene.
Sche made for him sorwe y-now,
For dele hir body al to-drow,
Hir louely heer sche al to-rent,
Sche cracched hir face & al to-schent,—
That it was ruthe & gret pite
So fair a lyff so dyght to se.
¶ In gret mornyng was dame Heleyn,
When sche wiste sir Troyle sclayn;
And his brother, sir Paris,
Gret sorwe made he y-wis:
He sorwed bothe day & nyȝt.
And so did euery lord & knyȝt,
And alle that euere were In the toun;
For thei seide alle: "thei were a-doun,"—
And al the nyght til the morwe
Lyued thei In gret sorwe.
¶ But the Gregeis were wel glad;
Lord, the Ioye that thei mad
That her strong fo was sclayn!
Lord, that thei therfore were fayn!
Thei sclepe al nyȝt and made blythe,
And thonked her god offte sithe,
And solaced Achilles thei also
For that prowesse that he hadde y-do.
¶ When day was comen, and nyȝt gon,
Thei toke her hors euerychonchon on erasure, but by the same hand.
And rod aȝeyn In-to the feldis,
Out of the toun & of the teldis;
And be-gan a newe assaut,
Til hit was fer with-Inne the naut.
WHen it was day, & thei sei lyght,
And thei were armed & redi dyght,
Out of Troye rod the Troyanes;
A-ȝeyn hem come alle the Danes,
¶ Hic Pugnabant per vijtem dies.
Wel arayed on horse rydande,
With fair scheld & spere In hande.
Many a man ther strokes toke,
That many of hem her lyff for-soke;
Many a body was ther to-koruen,
And many gode knyȝt was ther storuen.
¶ And thus ferde thay til it was nyght,
That thei of sonne had no syght,
That thei most nede take her rest.
On morwe were thei al prest
That ffyght aȝeyn to be-gynne;
For that wolde thei neuere blynne,
Vnto that on were for-done,—
And that scholde now be sone.
¶ And thus ffauȝt thei to-gedur samen—
Alle on ernest & not on gamen—
With-oute rest dayes seuene;
But alle her dedis may no man neuene,
For that wolde be to longe dwellyng,
To moche werk of my tellyng:
For who-so wolde aboute that dwelle
Alle her dedis for to telle,
Many bokes myght men make;
I wol not now vndirtake.—
¶ But seuene dayes with-outen pes,
With-oute rest—so saith Dares—
Fauȝt thei to-gedir day for day,
Saue Achilles In his bed lay
To hele the woundes that he hadde cauȝt,
When he & Mennon to-gedir fauȝt
Off that fyght that thei hadde meled.
The seuenthe day whan he was heled
Off his woundes wel & fyn,
Off his Angwys & his pyn,
¶ Incipit bellum In die septimo.
He Armed him as other did,
To go & fyght the Gregeis myd.
¶ Then were the Gregeis bold & glad;
Alle his men tho faire he badSome letters erased after bad.,
That when thei come to that batayle,
That thei scholde alle Mennon assayle
And close him alle envyroun,
That him myght helpe no man;
And ȝiff to no man elles entent,
But that he were amonges hem hent,
That he myght do hem wreche,
And sle him for hiss on erasure. last speche,
And for he woundid him so sore—
He swore: "he scholde do so na moreMS. namore.."
¶ And therfore he bad his men not fayle
To helpe him wele In that batayle;
Thei bad him holde him stille,
Hit scholde be done at his wille.
HIT was opon the day seuend,
Achilles thoght he wolde be euend
Vpon the doghti kyng Mennoun.
He bad her kynges & Agamenoun:
"That he scholde the Gregeis aray,
To se that day qwat thei do may?"—
'For I my-selff that day schal lede
The formast warde, so god me spede!'
¶ Agamenoun tho hem arayed,—
With baneres brode alle displayed,—
And bad echon thei scholde hem hye
Forward with her companye,
For thei of Troye were comen alle
And with-outen her Cite walle
In-to the feld, to take her stale,
With many riche amerale.
¶ Kyng Mennoun the vamwarde ledis,
Vnto Achilles he him spedis;
When he saw him be-fore comande,
He hied to him faste ridande:
Rode thei to-gedir with gret envy
As faste as thei myght fly,
Ayther smot other In-myddes the scheld,
That bothe fley on the feld
Fro her horses to the grounde,
That nother was with-outen wounde.
¶ But thei lepe vp & fauȝt on fote,
For tho was hem no more bote:
But Mennon was his men with-oute,
Here horses ran fro hem a-boute;
Ther was no man to him ȝaff gome,
Kyng ne sqwyer, knyȝt ne grome.
TRoyens mette & the Gryffons
With sword & spere & gret burdons,
With piked staues wel y-wrythen.
Ther was a fyght strong y-ȝeuen:
On bothe parties thei died thikke,
But thei schal leue non qwyk,
Many a schanke brake thei In-sonder,
And many lay his hors fet vnder;
Ech-on other smot & quelled
That thikke to grounde ded thei felled.
¶ Many an hed was al to-squatMS. alto squat.,
And many ded on his hors sat;
Some loste nose, & some her tonges,
Som her lyuer, & som her longes.
The Murimdones when thei were ware
Off kyng Mennon & his fare
A-ȝeyn her lord, thei hadde gret tene,
Thei closed him tho hem by-twene
¶ Hic Achilles occidit Mennonem Regem.
That no help myght he haue
Off no Troiene—so god me saue!
Thei holde hem oute with gret fyght
And sclow the Troiens doun right.
¶ Achilles and Mennoun fauȝt In-fere,
The strokes myght men fer here;
The knyghtes were bothe gode & strong,
But her fyght myght not dure long:
But Mennoun woundes Achilles sore,
But Achilles did him wel more,
Thei fauȝt to-gedir as thei were wode,
Bothe thei ran al on blode.
¶ Mennon scheld is al to-hewe,
He cutte his mayles rewe on rewe,
With his blod-brode bronde
He hewe his scheld to his honde:
Mennon was faynt for many wounde,
Achilles smot him doun to grounde,
He cleue his hede to his brest,
He bad him lye ther & rest.
MEnnoun is ded, and that is harm;
He lithe ded In his blod warm.
Troyens bere him a-way thore,
Thei were tho agast sore.
But then come doun to that semble
Menelaus with his meyne;
And so did duk Menescenes,
And Ayax Thelamens,
And Diomedes with his peres,
With his gode men & comperes:
And hem ofof inserted by the same hand over line. Troye so schent & donge
And so stoutly among hem thronge,
That thei made hem the feld for-sake
And to the flyght for-sothe hem take.
¶ The Troyens fledde, for thei hadde nede;
Thei were echon In gret drede
For tho that Gregeis ouer-toke,
Afftir lyff myght thei not loke.
Thei sclow the Troyens many on
And wounded also gret won;
But alle that hadde space to fle
Flow In-to Troye, the strong Cite,
And spered the ȝates with keye & lokke
To kepe out the Gregeis folke.
¶ The Cite ȝates are sperd & stoken,
That thei be not on hem broken;
And thei wente alle In-to her Innes.
But Hectuba, the quene, not blynnes
Reuful sorwe & dele to make
For doghti Troyle, her sones, sake;
For ȝit he liggis vpon molde,
I-buried In clothes of golde.
PRiamus wepis and makes mone,
And so do alle the lordes echone,
Paris wepis for him sore,
And so did his suster wel more,
That faire mayden Pollexene,
And Eche burgeis & Citeȝene.
For eche man cares now for his lyff,
For his children, & for his wiff.
For Mennoun kyng were thei sori,
Ther was non that he ne was drery.
¶ Now is Ector ded, and Dephebus,
Troyle also the vigorous,
And sir Mennoun, the doghti kyng.
"Alas, Alas!" thei gan to syng,
For hem is lefft none but Paris,
Now of Troye is litel Prys.The rubricator forgot to paint over the small p.
¶ Hic Troiani pecierunt pacem ad sepiliendum Troyllum & Mennonem RegesOne line in MS..
PRyamus calles his conseleres,
And biddes hem chese two Messageres
That ben witti and curtays,
That may wende on Message to the Gregays;
He bede hem riche robis done on
And wende to kyng AgamenounMS. Agamenon..
¶ The Messageres to Gregays wende,
The knyȝtes curteys, gode, and hende,
A trewe to aske—as here kyng sayde;—
And thei hem graunt and are wel payde.
And thei come a-ȝeyn ridande
To telle him of her tydande,
And seyde: 'the trewes are ferme & stable,
Sicurly with-outen ffable.'
¶ The Troyens haue at Gregays ben,
And trewe is taken hem be-twen.
A precious tombe for Troyle was wroght,
And his body ther-In was broght;
And leyde him ther-In bischopis thre
With wonder gret solempnite:
Ther was for him a riche offerynges
Off Erles, Dukes, and of kynges.
¶In the MS. the next line (15254) is standing here, after this sign. And Priamus made also
Another tombe Menoun vnto,
And did his men ther-Inne him brynge
With fair seruice & gret offrynge.
And whan that seruice was al y-done,
To her mete thei wente sone,
Thei dight hem to her mete.
But Hectuba has not for-ȝete
Off Troyle deth, that doughti knyȝt,
That sche loued with al her myȝt:
Many a way that lady soght
And wel narwe sche hir be-thoght,
¶ Lamentacio Hectube.
How sche myght venge hir on that swayn
That hadde hir two sones sclayn.
Sche called to hire hur sone Paris
And seyde to him wepande y-wys:
¶ 'Paris'—sche seyde—'thow wost wele
Off this Achilles euery dele.
This wicked theff Achilles
Thi bretheren hath sclayn with-oute les
With his falshede & his quayntise,
Ther-fore I wolde on alle wise
Be venged on that wicked fode;
Me were it leuer than any gode!
I pray the: do thing that I bidde,
That my consayl be not kidde.'
Paris swor bothe loude & stille:
"Alle her wil he wolde fulfille;
What thyng that sche wolde haue doneMS. dou; the scribe is very inconsistent in the endings on and ou, he even rhymes on and ou sometimes, as here, and leaves the reader to decide which is right.,
Hit scholde be done swithe sone."
HEctuba with drery mode
Seide to Paris ther he stode:
'This wicked man, this losengere
In al this batayle hath no pere;
He wol vs alle distroye,
But we the rather may him anoye.
This Achilles, wham I mene,
Loues thi suster Pollexene,
And has offte sent his message
Hir to haue In mariage;
¶ He wolde neuere of sendyng blyn,
Til he of me answere myȝt wyn.
I wol therfore—so god me a-mende!—
To-morwe erly afftir him sende
And bid him derely: "come me tille,
And he of hir schal haue his wille."
And than wol I—so haue I blis!—
In the temple of Apolynys
That thow be hid with certayn knyȝtis,
Armed wel at alle rightes;
And when he comes a-mong ȝow alle,
That he be sclayn,—what so be-falle!—
That he no wyse passe quyk,
For that were then to vs ful wik.'
PAris than answered & sayde:
'Mi dere Moder, I holde me payde
Off ȝoure biddyng & ȝoure consayl;
Hit schal be done with-oute fayl.'
On morwe erly, whan it was day,
Paris thanne with-oute delay
Wente to the temple, and ther him hid
With twenti armed knyȝtes myd
That were hardy & wondir strong,
To scle Achilles hem among.
¶ The sonne schon, the day was cler,
Hectuba sente hir Messanger
Afftir that knyȝt, sir Achilles,
And bad him faire: "whil it was pes,
Come swithe home to hir house,
And he scholde haue to his spouse
Pollexene, that semely may,
That he so moche loued ay."
¶ When Achilles these tydynges herde,
With mochel Ioye & murthe he ferde,
For he was so with hir loue bounden:
Thoow he hadde of rede gold founden
An hundrid thousand pounde,
He hadde not ben so glad that stounde
As he was thanne—I vndirstande,—
When he herde this tythande.
¶ Qualiter Achilles fuit occisus.
¶ He called as sone vnto him tho
Duk Nestor soneMS. Nestorsone. with-outen mo,
A doghti knyȝt, sir Archilogus,
And seide anon to him thus:
'Archilogus, my trusti frend,
I pray the now: with me thow wende;
On the is now my most trayst,
Ther-fore I am not a-bayst
The to telle my priuete:
I wol wende to that Cite,
I schal haste me thedir now;
Schal no man wyte but only thow.
¶ For I haue then suche tythandes had
That I am bothe mury & glad:
For I schal wende vn-to my wyff
That I loue more than my lyff;
I schal wedde that mayden clene,
The kynges doghter, Pollexene,
That is whitter then Blauncheflour;
And I haue loued hir per amour
And suffred for hir moche pyne,
But now is sche on of myne.
¶ I wol therfore to hir me spede,
That sche delaye no more this dede.'
AChilles than & his ffelawe
Rode so forth with mochel plawe,
With mury herte & mochel Ioye
Rode Achilles In-to Troye.
¶ When thei were comen to Troye ȝate,
The porter was redi ther-ate,
And lete hem In with fair semblaunt,
And thei to Ylion rod syggand
With mury herte & louely chere,
And that aboute thei ful dere:
For whan thei comen at that palays,
Thei fonde ther knyȝtes curtays
Vnto the temple that hem ledde,
Ther thei leideThe MS. has leff, but crossed out, and leide inserted by another hand over line. her lyff to wedde.
In-to the chirche when thei were gon,
Thei spered the dores euerychon;
And Paris thanne & his comperes
Come walkyng out of here soleres
Ther thei hadde ben In a-wayt,
To brynge Achilles to his dissait.
¶ Achilles thei alle tho discried,
And he hem alle boldely defied:
Tho twenti knyghtes on a rowte
By-sette Achilles al abowte,
And euery man his sword out-drowe
And seyde: 'Achilles, defende the nowe!
For thow schalt for thi vilonye,
For thi falshede & cowardye
That thow sir Troyle so foule slowe,
Die this day, yff that we mowe.'
AChilles saw he was dissayued:
Fro his necke his mantel he wayued,
And a-boute his Arme he caste,
And with his hond he held it faste;
And smot a knyght amonges hem alle
And made him his swerd to falle.
His felawe was sclayn lyghtly,
But Achilles tho fauȝt myghtly,
And ten of tho that him assayled
He sclow, er his herte fayled.
¶ But Paris stod fro his meyne,
And In his hond held dartes thre
And kest hem at Achilles
Ther he fauȝt In-myddes the pres,
¶ Hic Achilles Interfectus fuit.
And wounded him, as he fauȝt thore,
In his body with hem ful sore.
And nad Paris so him wounded,
Alle his knyghtes hadde he comfonded
With his manhoudWith on erasure, but by the same hand; in manhoud something has been altered, it seems to have been like . . . hond., & thorow his myȝtes
He hadde sclayn the .xxti. knyȝtes.
But he hadde than many a wounde,
Tho fel he ded vpon the grounde.
¶ Whan he was ded, thei him to-coruen;
When Paris saw that he was storuen,
He bad hem take him by the leggis
And throwe him ouer In-to the seggis
And let him ligge to roke & rauen;
He swor: "he scholde neuere be grauen,
But he scholde to houndes mete,
And rokis & rauenys him scholde ete."
BVt when that the quene Helayn
Wyste that thei were so slayn,
Sche come rennande thedir blyue
And sir Paris sche gan to schryue;
Sche prayed for loue & curtasye:
"He scholde not do that vylonye
To that knyȝt that was alosed."
So sche spak & so sche glosed,
That he bad men scholde him lay
Somwhere In Troye In an hye way,
That euery man that likyng hadde
Might hem be-holden & be gladde,
¶ Whan thei saw ded that ilke body
That was that mortel enemy.
In Troye tho was mochel Ioye
Among alle burgeis of Troye,
When thei saw him ded & sclayn thore
That thei be-fore hadde dred so sore.
Thei sayde tho: "thei hadde no drede
Off the Gregays ne of her dede,
For thei scholde neuere the Cite wynne,
Sithe he was ded her trust was Inne."
¶ And thus was Achilles done to ded
Thorow a wicked woman red,
Thorow her sleght & consayl
Died the knyght with-oute fayl.
And so hath many a-nother man
Died thorow red of a womman:
That neuere were so gode knyghtes
Off ffairnes, of connyng, ne of myghtes,
¶ The beste body that euere ete bred
Thorow fals wymmen haue ben ded.
And so did Achilles, the strong knyght,
Thorow a womman lost al his myght;
And sche ther-afftir sclayn was
For the deth of Achilles.
AChilles ligges In gret wondryng
Ded In Troye In gret wowenyng;
Among the burgeis of the tounMS. ton . . . dou, see note on p. 450.
The word goth bothe vp & dounMS. ton . . . dou, see note on p. 450..
So fer the tythandis were told,
That duk Nestor, the knyȝt so old,
And alle the Gruwes gret & smale
Hadde yherd that sori tale.
¶ T[h]er was tho a delful cry & gale& gale inserted later, but by the same hand.
Among the Gregeis gret & smale,
Thei wepyn for him more & les;
Thei seyde: "thei were al redeles,
Tho thei coude no more red,"—
But seyde echon: 'now he is ded
That al oure los & worschip wan!'
Ther wepte for him many a man.
¶ Hic Imperator Grecorum pecijt corpora Militum.
Thei swor alle by her god lege,
That thei wolde alle byleue that sege,
Thei wolde no lenger holde it forth;
Thei held hem no-thyng worth:
Gret sorwe made thei al day,
That he was ded—I dar wel say.
AGamenoun, her Emperour,
He sente to Troye a procuratour,
Lordis, knyȝtis, & squyeres,
And bad the kyng, for her prayeres,
And also to sir Paris,
To graunte hem tho two bodyes
To grauen hem the moldes vndir,
That men on hem no more wondir.
¶ Priamus graunt the kynges bone
And seyde: "her wil scholde be done,"
And escused him of that dede,
Bothe of assent and of rede;
He bad thei scholde hem hom lede.
Thei toke hem tho bothe InMS. In bothe. her wedede by another hand on erasure.
As blody as thei wore;
For Achilles thei wepyn sore
And ledes hem home to here Grues,
But euery a man his sorwe newes,
Off no Ioye thei ne rought,
When he was so ded homo altered from e. brought.
AChilles is to Gregais broght;
Priamus then thei be-soght:
"That he wolde to hem graunte
That knyȝt that was vayllaunte
In that toun to grauen somwher,
Wher he ordaynet for hem ther."
¶ Priamus wolde not werne,
He bad hem graue them In an herne
In som ȝate of that Cite,
As hem thoght best, In that entre.
The Gregais than a-non did make
A tombe of Marbil gray & blake,
Off Alabaster as white as mylke;
¶ In al this world is non silke,
So noble werk, ne so riche;
Ther is no tombe In erthe it lyche,
So craffteli coruen, ne so precious,
With gold be-gon, ne so glorious,
With gold & gemmes so y-dyght,
And schon a-nyȝt as bryght;
That ȝaff so bryght a gleme,
As it hadde ben the sonne beme;
Men seide: "ther was non suche y-wroght
As wyde as men hadde erthe y-soght."
THese knyȝtes are layd In monument,
And alle these lordes hom ben went
Vnto her tentis & here hales.
Ther were amonges hem many tales:
Some bad pul vp rope & stake,
For thei wolde hamward schake;
And some bad dyght schip & ore,
For thei wolde dwelle ther no more.
"Thei wolde wende"—thei sayde—"In hast,
To dwelle lengur it were but wast,
When he was ded, that gentil knyȝt,
That hadde her strengthe & her myȝt."
¶ Agamenoun, her Emperour,
Herde this cry and clamour;
He made anon a bedel crye
Thorow that ost al on hye:
"That eche a lord by on assent
Scholde come to a parlement."
¶ Consilium inter Reges Grecorum.
Ther was no lord that herde that word,
That thei ne ros fro table & bord
And come to him ridande alle,
And sette hem doun In his halle
To wete of him: "what he be-ment
That thei were alle afftir sent?
And whi he afftir hem sent so sone?"
'To wete'—he sayde—'what is to done,
NOw are ȝe alle to-gedir here,
Kyng & duk alle In-fere:
Hit is me told a newe tythyng,
That In this ost is gret gronyng
For this knyȝt that thus is ded;
Here are manye at suche a red—
As I here say—to leue this place
And take the see opoun a race,
To wende hamward to here contre,—
For here wol thei no lenger be,
Sithe he is ded that thei on traist,—
To dwelle lenger thei ben a-baist.
Tel me ther-fore ȝoure Iugement—
Whil ȝe are here alle in presentThis line, signed +, inserted by another hand in the left margin; cf. note 3.—
Whether wil ȝe duelle or wende?
Telle me the sothe, let here an ende!'
¶ When Agamenoun his tale hath ent
Be-fore the lordes that were present,
Eche man telles his resounMS. reson. . .discreciou, see note on p. 450.
Afftir his owne discreciounMS. reson. . .discreciou, see note on p. 450.;
Some sayde: "thei held it best
To make hem redi & prest
To passe the see to here contre,"—
'For ȝonder Cite neuere gete we
With non of vs that here are now,
Now he is ded & lith In throwThe last line of this page, following this one, runs thus: Therfore to wende henne is for oure prow; it is struck out by the same hand probably which wrote line 15558, and put 'vacat' before pointing to line 15558.
By wham we oure worschip wan;
To dwelle lenger is no wis-dam.'
And some seyde: 'nay, it is not gode
To leue the sege & passe the flode,
For we are ner now oure honour,
We schal scle hem In fight, In stour,
Or thei schal fayn this Cite ȝelde,
Er we haue holden a ȝer this felde.
¶ To wynne the toun is now but hende:
Ther nys no man may hem defende,
Sithen thei Ector for-ȝede,
And Troyle that was doughti In dede,
And Dephebus, & kyng Mennoun.
Hit were schame to take so vpoun
To leue the toun In suche a plyt,
When thei ben so ney discomfyt.'
Eche man afftir his herte wille
Seide his resoun & his skylle,
¶ Some wolde hom, & some dwelle:
But at the laste—the sothe to telle—
Thei were alle at this acord,
Kynges, duk, and euery a lord,
Þat þeyThese two first words on erasure. the sege wolde holde stille
Til thei myȝt hem of Troyel seems to be erased between y and e. spille.
Thei swor echon that place to holde,
And not remewe for hote ne colde,
Til thei of Troye were alle sclayn,
And wonne a-ȝeyn quene Helayn.
¶ For thei seide alle: "thoow it so were
That thei Achilles hadde not there,
Thoow thei for-ȝede him & his help,
Off her goddis myȝt made thei ȝelp."
Alle here hertis were trustely set
In here goddis that hem be-hetA later hand made two lines full of scrib|blings, quite indistinct, and blotted out at once by the finger.:
'The Cite'—he sayde—'ȝe schal gete';—
Ther-fore the sege wolde thei not lete.
Off here godis thei toke hede
That hem be-het: "thei scholde spede
That thei scholde wynne hit In a throwe
And alle toures doun throwe,"
As here goddes by-fore hadde told.
"Thei myȝt ther-fore be sur & bold
To scle the kyng & brenne Ilyoun,"—
'As oure eldres did Lamedoun.'
Alouely knyght, that het Ayax,—
With lokkis faire, ȝelow as wax,
Hongyng side aboute his swyre—
A kyng of Grece, a wel gret sire,—
Stode vp thenne & tolde this tale
To alle the lordes In that sale,
And seyde: 'sithe he is take vs fro
In wham oure help is thus for-go,
Off this gode kyng, sir Achilles,—
Sende we to kyng Lycomedes
Afftir Achilles sone, sir Pirrus,
And bid him: "that he come now to vs
To venge him on his fader bane,
When he the ordre of knyȝt hath tane."
¶ For I haue herd offten say
That we schal neuere by nyȝt ne day
With-oute him wynne this Cite,
For thus say thay of oure destane;
And he schal venge his fader dede
And gete the toun & do hem quede.
I rede therfore: do be my consayle,
I trowe it schal vs alle a-vayle!'
Thei seyde tho alle: "thei vndirstode
That his consayl was to hem gode."
¶ Thei saide echon: "it was to done."
Thei toke consayl among hem sone:
"Wo scholde afftir Pirrus sende?
And who myȝt best Afftir him wende
Off kynges alle of that baronage,
To wende for him In this message?"
¶ Menelaus thei chese tho
Afftir Pirrus for to go
Ther Lycomedes dwelled at,—
To fecche that child that Pirrus hat
To helpe hem to wynne the toun
And gete him los and gret renoun,
As his fader be-fore him did,
And be a knyȝt of worschepe kid.
Off this is now no more to carpe,
For now ben speres grounden scharpe,
And euery man lokes his atyres,
Some to arwes, som to vires.
Some now ben went al out of the trewes
Be-twix the Troyens & the Gruwes;
And day of fyght now is taken,—
Nother side wol it for-saken,—
¶ The sixte day for-sothe of Iune,
As chaunce hem schop & fals fortune:
When the day is alther lengest,
And the hete of the sonne is strengest,
Aboute mydsomer—as ȝe wele wote—
The day is long, the sonne is hote:—
The Gregays were alle arayed In the feld,
Couered with helm & with scheld,
¶ To begynne al newe the stour;
Eche lord with his baneour,
Armed wel with alle her myȝt,
Wel y-harneyst & wel y-dyȝt,—
Saue Ayax that dud folye,
Gret out-rage, & surfetrye:
Armes wold he bere none
To saue him fro woundis flesche ne bone,
But al vn-armed on his stede
With-oute scheld to batayle he ȝedeMS. ȝode.,
Vpon his hede bare he no helme,
Ne spere of asche ne of Elme,
Ne on his bak non haberioun,
Platis, pysane, ne aketoun;
But al naked saue his sword
Went forth that douȝti burd.
PRyamus also made his men
Hye hem ouer more & fen,
With her enemys for to mete.
The Archeres alle that wel coude schete
To sir Paris were thei be-tauȝt,
To wende with him In that assauȝt;
The furst batayle that day he ledde,
Sore wepyng & sore adredde:
¶ He wepis ful sore vndir his hatir
Many a tere of salt watir
For alle his brether that hadde ben souerayn,
Be-fore him were thei alle sclayn.
Afftir him wente Polidomas
With his batayle, and then Esdras,
And then come afftir him [&] alle his
The noble kyng Philomenys;
Eueas then with his batayle,—
The leste ost hadde he saunfayle.
¶ When thei were alle with-oute the ȝatis,
And sey that thei most fyght algatis,
And thei ned nother one nor other,
Gode Ector, ne Troyle his brother,
¶ Hic Incipit Bellum Magnum.
Ne Dephebus that was so wys,
Thei tolde of hem but litel pris:
'Alas!'—thei seide—'that we were born!
Oure gode lordes that we haue lorn!'
¶ The Troyens then to batayle ȝede
With sori herte & mochel drede,
And bende her alblastes & her bowes,
And rayed hem on renge & rowes,
With baneres brode blawande a-boute.
Ther was tho an hidous schoute:
When thei were met with speres,
Eche man other ouer-beres.
Many a Grew to dethe was schet,
When Paris men & thei were met;
¶ For Paris & his gode Archeres,
His bowemen, & his Alblasteres
Sclow hem thikkere with her arwes
Than tyndes of tre stondis In harwes.
The stour was strong, the cry was gret,
Thei rored grisly as it hadde ben net.
Many a man with moche stryff
Loste that day bothe child & wyff,
A thousand died for-sothe & mo
Er euen-tyde with moche wo.
¶ The day was hote, the wedur warme,
On bothe parties was gret harme:
The fyght was sterne and wyk,
The peple died wondir thik;
When thei were alle to-gedir samed,
Many a man ther was lamed,
And some be-gan donward to loute.
And Diomedes loked aboute
And saw kyng Philomenys
Play with the Gregays al on mys:
He toke a spere & ran him to,
And Philomene another also;
Thei brak here speres & drow her brondis
And fauȝt to-gedir on the sondis;
Thei smot to-gedir many a dynt
And sturdy strokes, er thei wolde stynt.
¶ But Philomenys & his men
Hadde slaw of Gregais sixti & ten,
Thei ferde the Gregais so foule with
That thei droff hem out of the frith;
Diomedes made he fle
For drede of him & his meyne,
For he myght not In no manere
With-stonde that kyng & his power.
PHilomene hath the better syde:
He made the Gregays on-bak to ride,
TheiMS. And. ȝede bacward a gode space,
And thei of Troye Grewes chace.
And that be-held duk Menescene,
And therfore hadde he gret tene:
¶ He rode to sir Palidamas
With a spere that stalworthe waswas inserted with another paint.,
And smot him so that he ȝede doun,
Op his fet & doun his croun,
And lay ther vndir his hors fete
Sore wounded opon the grete.
Menescene drow his sword tho,
Polidamas thoght he to sclo;
And sicurly so he hadde done,
Ne hadde come him socour sone:
¶ But when that doghti Philomene
Polidamas so falle hadde sene,
And Menescene, that noble duk,
So vilensly him rebuk,
He wente ridande to him anon
As faste as he myght gon,
And socoured him In that gret nede
And made him lepe opon his stede;
And he fyghtande for him standes,
Til he was brouȝt out of her handes.
And elles for-sothe he hadde ben ded,
Menescene elles had hadde his hed.
THe stour is styff, the ffight mortel,
The knyghtes are kene & cruel.
Ayax—that I be-fore of told—
Was fol-hardi, & ouer-bold:
He rod al day with-oute Armure,
And neuere tok harm ne blemure
Off his bodi In that batayle;
And that—thinketh me—was meruayle,
That he vnarmed scholde so ride
Fro morwe erly vn-to that tyde
With-oute harm of his body;
Hit was a wonder sicurly.
¶ He rod the batayle thorow-out
And ȝaff that tyme many a clout,
Vntil he come to Paris ffolk:
Many made he herehere inserted over line. blod to bolk,
Many of hem reffte he the lyue,
He sclow of hem .xx. & fyue;
Thoow he vn-armed were & naked,
Gret martirdom of hem he maked.
¶ But sir Paris ther-with was wrothe
And with gret tene swore his othe:
That [he] or euen scholde him sclo,
On lyue scholde he not fro him go.
The stalwortheste bowe that Paris hadde,
Off noble tre sicur & sadde,
He toke to him that rapely bent,
And an Arowe to him sent
That [was] venymed hede & vale,
That was forsothe that knyghtes bale:
In-myddes the ribbes he him hit,
That his herte blod he spit.¶ Hic Paris occidit AyaxOn the left side in MS.; signs blue, words red.
Ayax hadde his deth than;
To chaunge colour he be-gan,
He wiste ther was non other red,
He saw that he was tho but ded.
He thoght ther was no other bane
Off wham the deth he hade tane;
¶ He called loude & saide: 'Paris,
Thow hast me rafft this worldis blis!
Sicurli thow hast me sclayn
With thin Arowe & thi flayn!
And I schal on the be a-wreke,
The wile I may go & speke;
It is gode skyl that thow for-gange
That loue that thow hast loued so lange
With mochel wrong & gret vn-right.
Many a doghti kyng & knyȝt
Hath ben sclayn In this ten ȝere,
And that schalt thow bye so dere!
I telle the, Paris, witterly
That thow schalt dye ere then I!'
Ayax smot thanne Paris so,
That bothe his chekes he cleue atwo;
In-to the baly the gode sword sprong,
And he fel dede among the throng.¶ Hic Ayax occi|dit ParisOn the left side in MS.; signs blue, words red.
And Ayax fer not fro him ȝede,
Er he fel ded doun of his stede;
And so lay ded vpon the sand
Side by syde, of aytheres hand.
THe Troyens saw Paris ded falle;
Sori men than were thei alle,
Whan he was ded of that wounde.
Thei lyfft him vp opon the grounde
And fled away to that Cite
As faste as thei myght fle.
The Gregeis folewed afftir faste,
Wo was hem that was the laste!
I wote thei sclow at that flyghtes
Mo then a thousand knyghtes,
With-outen squyeres & fotemen
That leffte dede ther In the fen.
¶ Thei bare that day ded & foy
Fro strete to strete thorow-out Troy,
Vntil thei come to Ilyoun;
Kyng Philomene & Odemoun
Thei leyde Paris In that fair hous
By-fore Helayne, the quene, his spous;
Whan sche saw him ded ligge therThis line inserted by another hand in the right margin, a cross standing in the left one between ll. 15860 and 15862. Cf. note 3.,
Sche scratte her face & tare hir heer
As wight that was with wo by-gon,
For him sche siked & sore gangan inserted by another hand over line. gron;
Sche was so ful of sorwe & care,
Sche seyde: 'alas, that moder me bare,
Or fader me get In this world!'
Hit was del se, how sche ferd
Whan sche saw him ded In his blod,
Sche ferde as womman that were wod.
¶ His fader als for him weped sore;
And so did alle that In Troy wore,
Euery man of his lyff dispairesBetween ll. 15873 and 15874 the following line is standing which is crossed out (cf. note 1): 'Off his catel & sore payres.'
And sori is of his wiff & his ayres,
Thei leue to lese here heritage,
Here godis, & alle here lynage.
¶ Hic Paris sepultus est.
Off hem-selff coude thei no rede,
Now alle the kynges sones be dede.
But In that sorwe & that wepyng,
The while he was In kepyng,
A tombe was made of precious stones,—
To lay him In, bothe body & bones,—
Off riche werk, of fair facture:
Off saphires, gold, & riche asure;
¶ Hit was richer then other fyue;
I may not al the werk discryue,
Ne halff the richesse that ther was on
Off riche gold & precious ston;
Hit were long tellyng,
Ther-on make I no dwellyng.
But when that seruice for him was seyde,
And his body In tombe layd,
Euery man wente to his In,
For sorwe coude thei neuere blyn.
PAris is dede & doluen depe,
Night & day for him thei wepe,
With-outen reste thei wepe ay,
Thei are In mornyng nyght & day:
Echon to other of sorwe telles,
Thei tende to sorwe & nothyng elles,
Ther is non for wele ne wo
That dar with-oute the ȝatis go.
¶ Agamenon remues his place
And ner the toun his stede he tace,
He bad euery lord with tent & hale
With-oute dwellyng remue here sale,
And bad hem sette ner the toun
Hale & tent and Pauyloun.
To Priamus, the kyng, he sende
And bad "that he scholde him defende
¶ Hic Troiani clauserunt Ianua sua per .ij. menses.
Aȝeyns the Gregeis, his enemys,
As a kyng of mochel pris";
And bad him "come with his meygne
With-oute the ȝates of that Cite,
That he the batayle to him nome
Til that on of hem be ouercome,
¶ As he was man of gret renoun
Or kyng worthi to bere croun;
For suche a kyng schulde euere dispice,
For that was token of cowardise;
And ligge not ther as an hog In sty,
For that was to him a vilony."
BVt Priamus with that seyde "nay,"
Hem thurt no more of that play;
That wolde he no wyse graunte,
To sende out knyȝt ne sergaunte
To fight with hem with-oute the walles,
For no-thing that ther be-falles.
With-Inne the toun whil thei dwelle stille
For fferd of more perel & ille,
For he was ferd his men to tyne
And die him-selff with moche pyne.
¶ To fight with hem the Gregais assayed
Aud therto wel offte thei prayed;
But al was noght that thei coude do,
For he wolde not assente ther-to,
Thei dwelled so forthe In the toun,
And walked vp the toun & doun,
And kepte the ȝates and the walles
With alblasteres, bowes, & qwarelles,
With many an armed knyght & man,
That thei with-outen the toun not wan.
Thei helde so Troye a ful .ij. monethe,
That thei fauȝt neuere her fomen with,
But kepte the toun so al aboute
For ferd of hem that were with-oute.
Two Monethes the ȝates were stoken
That thei were neuere vnloken,
Vntil a quene gentil & ffre
Come hem to helpe fro fer contre.
The quene was called Pantasaley,
A noble womman of Chyualry,
Sche was quene of Amazone;
For hir was furst the ȝates vndone:
Sche come thedir with a thousande
Off hardi maydenes wel fyghtande,
To helpe Troyens, tho hir was tolde
That the Gryffons proude & bolde
With mechel ffolk & gret aray
Aboute the toun of Troye lay
And seged hem that were with-Inne,
To scle the kyng, the toun to wynne.
BVt herkenes now of the quene,
And of hir maydenes bolde & kene!
I wol ȝow telle, if ȝe wol here,
Off here lond the right manere;
Where it is, and what lande,
The manere schal ȝe vndirstande.
And elles wol ȝe haue meruayle—
That wommen scholde go to batayle,
Armed as men vpon her stedes,
And be so doghti In her dedes.
IN the est-ende of alle the world—¶ De Insula AmazoneOn the left side in MS..
As I In bokes haue I-herd—
Is a lond, a louely Ilde,
That wymmen dwelle In, wonder wilde,
Off grete renoun and prowesse,
That Amazone y-called is;
Wymmen dwelle ther-Inne alone,
Men with hem wol thei haue none.
¶ Off these wymmen the stori spekes
And seythe: thei are strong frekes,
Styff, & strong, stalworthe In werre
Strokes to ȝeue and to berre,
Armes to bere In many a stoure,
To wynne hem los and gret honoure;
For alle here herte & couetyse
Is to be of gret empryse.
¶ Be-syde that Ile another Ile was,
Long & large, brode In compas,
Wonder fayr and delitable,
Plenteuous and amyable,—
And telles vs the right story,
That men with-oute company
Off womman-kynde dwelles ther-In.
To telle ȝow wol I begyn:
What vse thei haue, & what custome,
And how thei to-gedir come?
THese wyse clerkes for-sothe telle,
That these wommen that so alon dwelle
In the lond of Amazone,
Comen to the lond ther men In wone
Sicurly thries In the ȝere,
And dwellen to-geder ther In-fere
To haue her murthes & delite
And do here wille day & nyȝte.
¶ These clerkes say and Philoȝoferus:
The womman to the man hir proferus,
For thei are also styff & strong
That no man dar come hem among
In-to her lond aȝeyn here leue,
For men hem schulde no-thyng greue
Ne nothyng done aȝeyn her wille.
In her lond holde thei hem stille,
Til tyme of ȝer that thei come doun
And dwelled with hem In tour & toun,
And take her solace & here play—
That is In Iune, Aueril, & MayMS. That is Jn. June. Aueril. & May..
¶ Euery ȝer these thre Monethe
Come thei to dwelle ther-In withe,
And wende aȝeyn than to her Il[d]e.
Iff it be so thei be with childe,
And it be ought of womman-kynde,
Among the wymmen—thei it fynde—
In her lond ther stille it dwelles
Among hem euere—as my boke telles.
¶ Iff it be man, thei brynge it forth
Til it be so moche worth,
That it can go and be so bold
That it be fully thre ȝer old;
And whan it is of thre ȝer elde
That it may it-selff welde,
To that Ilde that is hem hende
Ther men dwelle, the childer thei sende
To the fader and to his kyn,
To dwelle with hem the lond with-In.
THat tyme—godemen!—of that prouynce¶ De Pantasa|lia ReginaOn the left side in MS..
Pantasalye was quene & prince,
A doghti Mayden & sterne,
That loued Ector wel longe derne
For his prowesse & his noblay
That sche herde of him offten say.
When that quene, that frely fode
Off Amazone, so vndirstode
That thei of Grece were passed the see
And Priamus and his Cite
Hadde be-seged him & his londes wasted,
Pantasalye to him sche hasted
And toke with here Maydenes x. hundre
That echon were hir baner vndre,
To helpe the kyng for Ector sake
And do the Gregais mochel wrake.
But sche wiste not of Ector ded,
To wende to Troye tho sche toke red;
Sche wiste right not, til sche come thore.
When that sche wiste, sche weped wel sore;
Sche hadde for him gret wo & payn,
When sche wiste that he was sclayn.
PAntasalye, that worthi wyght,
Is comen to Troye with-oute knyght,
With-outen knyȝtes or any men,
But fair companye of hir wymmen
That are hardi as men In dede,
Off lyues man haue thei no drede.
But than hadde sche care In thoght,
When Ector was to dethe y-brought;
¶ At hem of Grece hadde sche gret Ire,
Sche prayed the kyng for the loue of hire,
That he wolde then the ȝates vndo
That sche myȝt wende the Gregais to,
For sche scholde so do,—sche him be-hight,—
That a mayden was worth a knyght
And as strong and as ȝepe,
When thei were met on an hepe.
¶ So longe prayed sche, he graunt hir bone;
He bad a ȝate scholde be vn-done,
He bad opon Dardanides;
But him hadde leuere haue ben In pes,
For he was ferd what scholde be-tyde,
When he saw hem of Troye out-ride.
¶ Hic Priamus ordinat Prelium magnum.
¶ Dardanides that ȝate dos opon,
Pantasalye on horse is lopon
With hem of Troye and with alle hires,
Armed wel In al here tyres.
PRiamus his men araied
As that lady him praied;
Sche was that day here souerayn,
Here ledere, & here cheuayntayn.
Pantasalye that ȝate rod oute
With-outen ferefere inserted by another hand over line. & with-oute doute
Off hir enemys or of hir fos,
Ful hardeli to hem sche gos,
With hir Maydenes ridande be-syde
That wolde with hir In stour abyde.
¶ Kyng Philomene and Eueas,
And afftir that Polidomas,
Come with here batayles on a rowe,
And thei of Perse with qwyuer & bowe—
That Paris was wont to lede—
Forth to ffyght with hem thaiMS. that. ȝede.
¶ When thei of Grece saw hem come out
So proudely praunsande & so stout,
Thei were echon gretly meruayled
What it myght be that hem ayled
That thei come out so proude & gay,
And ther-byfore not many a day
With-oute her ȝates durst thei not passe?
Thei hadde meruayle how it was?
But when thei saw hem out comande,
Eche man toke his harneis In hande
And hyed hem that thei were clad,
For of here werrewerre inserted over line by another hand. were thei glad.
¶ Thei lepe on horse with moche rape
And rod out vpon a frape,
¶ Hic venerunt omnes ad Bellum.
With manye brode gomfanoun,
As lordis of gret renoun.
When thei were comen to-gedir there,
A wonder noyse men myȝt here
Off speres that thei brak & barst,
Off knyȝtes that were to grounde cast.
Echon on other wolde be wroken,
Ther were many bones broken,
Hedis corven, heeres schorne,
Scheldes reven, armes torne.
¶ But herkenes now, my louely frende,
Off Pantasalye, that mayden hende,
And hire hardi damyseles
That come with hure & with hure penseles
How sche bare hir In that pres
With hir Maydenes that sche ches;
How sche bare that day the pris
Off alle that fauȝt In that [emp]ris;
How sche made hem to flee,
And how sche hem droff In-to the see;
How sche hem felled & wounded,
And scholde hem alle [haue] confounded,
Ne hadde y-ben withouten les
The doghti kyng Diomedes.
NOw ar thei alle to-gedere on hepis,
Now euery man on other lepis,
Scheldis ryue, & speres crake,
Eche man fightis with his make,
Fotemen falle, stedis straye,
Knyȝtes wounded ligge & braye.
The dust ros so thikke on hye,
That men myȝt not se the skye.
¶ Pantasalye, that douȝti quene,
Hatis Gregais—and that is sene:—
¶ Hic Pantasalia Regina pugnauit cum Regibus Grecorum.
That douȝti quene ful wel hem knowes,
Sche keste hem doun & ouerthrowes;
With-Inne a while so fele sche hath sclawe,
That thei fro hir a-weyward drawe;
Thei knewe ful sone al hir strengthe,
Thei fled fro hir on brede & lengthe.
MEnelaus hadde grete envy
Off that quene Pantasaly,
That sche the Gregais so defouledo corrected from e.;
On hir that tyme ful foule he schouled
And seyde: "that he wolde to hir ride
To se whether sche wolde him abyde."
He rode to hir with mochel Ire,
And sche was war & keped that sire
And smot him euene In-myddes the scheld,
That he fley out In-myddes that feld;
Among her horses stille he lay,
Til that he was drawen a-way.
By the rayne his stede sche cauȝt
And to a mayden sche him be-tauȝt.
¶ Diomedes, that douȝti kyng,
By-held that tyme that Iustyng,
He saw the kyng falle a-doun,
Vp the fete & doun the croun;
His hors was lorn, & he on fote,
He seyde: "ther-on he scholde do bote,
That sturdy strok scholde sche abye."
He rode thanne to Pantasalye
With al the myght that euere he hadde,
But sche was not of him a-dradde:
Sche cauȝt a spere, when sche was war
That þat kyng to hir was war;
A sterne strok was hem by-twene,
But on hir hors sat the quene
That bridel ne stirop sche ne tynt,
But he was feld doun at that dynt;
Fro his nekke toke she his scheld
And toke hir mayden for to weld,
And bad: "that sche scholde it bere
Euery day ther In that were,
In vilonye and In dispit
Off him that it auȝt, what so he hit."
Kyng Thelaman stode euere alone
And saw the dedis that sche had done,
He saw hir felle that douȝti kyng,
And his scheld take with-oute lesyng
Fro his nekke his vnthankes,
And felde him doun at his hors schankes;
And he was feld opon the grounde,
And sche sat stille hol and soundell. 16197-8 are following ll. 16201-2 in MS., and are crossed out several times..
He herde neuere speke of suche a woman
That feld In fyght so gode a man.
¶ Gret envy hadde he ther-ate,
Opon hysy and s on erasure. hors ther hes seems to be erased before he. sate;
He wex for tene blak as Cole,
That schame myght he no lengur thole
That sche hadde done the kynges two,
He wolde assaye what he myght do:
¶ He toke a spere of stalworthe tre,—
For he on hir wolde venged be,—
And rode to hir with gret herte;
And sche him kepis rapely & smerte,
Sche smot him euen In-myddis the scheld
That he fley out In-myddes the feld.
So sore to grounde the knyght sche puttis,
That he wende he hadde to-brosten his guttis;
And sche gurd forth among the GrewesMS. gregais.
And mochel bale among hem brewesMS. brennes.:
Sche turned a-ȝeyn to Thelaman
And sturdi strokes laid him an,
Sche bete that kyng for-sothe so sore
That sche of force toke him thore;
With the help of Philomene
Sche did to him that day gret tene,
Sche toke the kyng to hir meygne
To lede him to Troye Cite.
¶ But Diomedes, when he was resen,
Saw Thelaman was taken to prison,
Toward the toun he saw him go,—
Lord god, that him was wo!
He blewe his horn & samed his men,
Ther come aboute him thousand ten
Off doughti knyȝtes swithe proude,
And asked: "whi he blew so loude?
What it be-mente? what it myght be?"
He seyde: 'felawes, may ȝe not se
How Thelaman, that doghti knyȝt,
With hem of Troye is discomfyȝt?
¶ Lo! where thei lede him toward toun
Ouer dale and ouer doun!
But sicurly, if I may spede,
Thei schal him not to Troye lede.
I ȝow be-seke, falawes myne alle,
For any-thing that may be-falle:
In this gret nede fayle me not,
Til I haue him fro hem y-brouȝt!'
WHen he these wordes to hem hadde sayd,
On his scholdur his spere he layd:
He ran to hem that Thelaman ledde,
And thei of him were sore a-dredde,—
Some heMS. by. hurt & some by-heded,
With stalworthe strokes he hem schedid.
To lete him go thei were fayn,
That thei of him were not sclayn.
¶ ThelamanMS. Diomedes. fro hem he toke
And faste aweyward with him schoke.
When the quene herde it say
How he from hem was led away,
For wratthe sche wax ner wode,—
So sterne sche was In hir mode.
That ladi thanne, Pantasalye,
To hir Maydenes by-gan to crye
And gadered hem vpon a route;
When thei were comen hir aboute,
Sche bad that thei scholde kythe here myght
Bothe on kyng & eke on knyght.
PAntasalye, that Damysele,
When sche herde telle how it felle
That Thelaman was fro hem twyght
Thorow Diomedes, that gentil knyȝt,
Sche swor an othe ther: "for his sake
Sche wolde scle that sche myght take."
Hir maydenes to-geder tho samed,
Sche seyde: 'are ȝe not aschamed
That this kyng is take fro ȝow?
Felawes myn, I pray ȝow now:
For so haue I euere gode chaunce,
Thei schal bye his lyueraunce.'
¶ Sche strok hir stede with hir spores,
Ouer falow & ouer forwes
Among the Gregais sche ther rennes—
As dos the fulmard among the hennes.—
Many a scheld that lady rofe,
And many a basenet sche al to-drofeMS. alto drofe.,
Many a bak that day sche bowed,
For Thelaman was so rescowed.
Sche wounded & sclow & droff doun
The men that most were of renoun,
Sche barst gerthes, paytrel, & pole;
The gentil quene delis hir dole
Here & thore as sche hem takes,
Gret ma[r]tirdome of hem sche makes;
Vn-til here tentis sche hem reuersed,
In euery a side that ost sche persed.
WAs non of hem that tyme so bolde
Durst fyght with hir opon the wolde,
Not Diomedes, that vigorus,
Ne Ayax Thelamanyus,
Ne that sturne knyȝt Menescene
Durst not byde hir In here tene,
Ne Agamenon, here Emperour,
Ne thei that were of most valour
Not ones loke to hir wardMS. hirward.;
But alle thei flow aweyward,
Vntil thei come to her tentis.
Many a man her dethe ther hentis,
¶ For sche hem chased with swerd In hande,
With loude vois hem manassande,
And droff hem ouer doune & dale,
And fro her tentis & fro here hale,
Vntil thei come vnto the see
That thei no wyse myght fer flee.
Tho turned thei aȝeyn and fauȝt,
As thei that tyme nede mauȝt,
Or haue ben draynt In the see.
So that quene by-gan to slee,
¶ Thei hadde died tho with gret trosture,
Ne hadde tho y-comen socoure:
For tho come than with-oute les
The noble kyng Diomedes
And made of the Greces resistens
A-ȝeyn the quene & hir defens,
And mayntened the fight tho
Aȝeyn Troyens with mochel wo,
Til it was nyght & day gone.
Thei departed sone anone,
For hadde thei had day at wille,
Many a Grew hadde thei don spille.
¶ Thei of Troye rode to the toun,
And Gregais to here Pauyloun;
And set hem doun In tent and hale,
Wel sore & dreri, wan & pale
For werinesse of that Iornay,
That it myght no better be that day.
To dight here mete her men thei bad,
To comforte hem for nede thei had,
And ete & drank as thei myght,
And sone to reste thei hem dight;
For werinesse off that Iornee
Nede to reste tho haued hee.
THat worthi wyght, that fair lady,
That doghti quene, Pantasaly,
With hir Maydenes is comen to Troye
With mochel murthe & mochel Ioye,
For gret worschepe & los sche wan
Off many knyȝt & many man
For dedis that day that sche hadde done.
The tydandes come to Priamus sone,
At hure Innes that sche was lyght
With hir Maydenes stalworthe & wyght.
¶ When Priamus, the kyng, herde say
That the worthi gentil may
Was I-comen to hir Inne,—
Til he come ther wolde he not blynne,
That noble quene toMS. he to. thanke & se
That so hadde meyntened that melle
For him al dayMS. alday. to his honour;
Ȝit hoped he to be conquerour
By that quene of alle his foos.
Kyng Priamus to hir vp goos
With mury herte & glad chere,
And thanked hir on his manere
Off hir godenesse & noblay
That sche for him hadde done that day.
KYng Priamus to hir him profered
And al his goodis to hir he offred,
And ȝaff hir ȝifftis many & fele,
Many worthi riche Iuele;
Many a noble riche present
The kyng to hir that euenyng sent:
Clothes of gold of mochel pride,
And stedes stronge vpon to ride,
And gode Armure of gode a-tyre
Sent Priamus that nyght to hire.
¶ He was so fayn of hir prowesse,
That he wende by hir doghtinesse
Off al his bale to haue bote.
But he was—lord!—ȝit vndirfote,
Er that ȝer was al out-paste;
That fair Palais was ouercaste
And distroyed, and al his kyn,—
Wyff, & child, & cosyn,—
And alle the kynrede that he hadde;
And that was ruthe, by seynt Chadde!
¶ Ther was gret Ioye & solace
That euery a burgeis now hace
Off that noble doghti quene
And of hir Maydenes gode & kene.
Thei lyued ere In sykyng sore
And In gret mornyng wore,
Thei make gret Ioye & melody
That thei haue hir In company,
On euery part In that Cite,
When thei herde of hir pouste.
For ȝit hope thei sche schal relesse
Hem of that wo, and sitte In pece
Thorow hir gret myȝt & hir dede,
Iff sche may leue & rightfully spede.
¶ Sche called styward and boteler,
Sergaunt, coke, & hir sqwyer,
And bad thei scholde her soper dyght,
For it was wel with-Inne nyght.
The bordes were layd, the clothes spred,
And thei were set & richely fed.
Than afftirward thei gon to rest,
Eche bodi his clothes of-kest,
And ȝede to bedde & weleThe first e altered from o. hem wrapped;
When thei were layd, sone thei napped
AL the nyȝt, til it was morn.
Than was blowen many an horn,
Many an horn & many a beme,—
Iff thei of Grece to hem toke ȝeme.
Thei ride al forth with-oute the ȝatis,
The quene by-fore rydyng algatis
Opon a stede strong & store,
With spere In hande & gilden spore.
And thei of Grece be that were ȝare
Aȝeyn Troyens for to fare,
That thei se comande on a routeMS. aroute.;
And not-for-thi thei were In doute
To mete with hem an hundrid score
For that day that was be-fore;
But ther lay non other amende,
ButThe capital B is altered from V by the same hand. nedes most thei here lyff defende.
NOw thei mete with spere & scheld,
Bothe parties In-mydde the feld
By-twene the hales and the toun;
Thei ride to-gedir with gret randoun,
Euery man now hath of other envy;
Ther was a carful company,
When thei were to-gedre met:
Echon other al to-bet,
Sclow, & wounded, & thorow-bare;
Non of hem wolde other spare.
And thus ferde thei that neuere blonne
Al that day, whil thei hadde sonne,—
That thei most part fro that fyght
For wantyng of that dayes lyght.
¶ And thus mette thei to-gedre efft
Many a day or thei lefft,
Til thei most the feld make clene
Off men that were sclayn hem be-twene,
And thei hem-selff so weri woreo altered from e.
That thei myght fyght no more.
Tho toke thei be-twene hem grithe
To be In pes a two monethe,
To reste her bones that were weri
By assent of bothe parti.
¶ The trewes was take monethes two,
That non of hem schal other mysdo
Lastande the trewes a nedle worth:
The relykes are y-broght forth,
And thei are sworne & made ther othe,
Thei schal hem hadde for leue or lothe.
¶ The Gregais alle toke consayl to wende,
That thei wolde afftir Pirrus sende
¶ Hic Greci mandauerunt post Pirrum ffilium Achillis.
To the kyng sir Lycomede,
To help hem In that gret nede,—
That was so tyff & strong In stoure.
Agamenoun, here Emperoure,
Bad than his brother Menelaus
With his meygne wende afftir Pirrus;
And he as sone wente to the see
With his men & his naue,
And sayled forth with mochel spede
Vn-to that lord Lycomede.
¶ When he was comen In-to that hauen,
He bad sqwyeres, ȝomen, & knauen
Lede out here hors opon the sonde;
And he lepe vp & rode to londe,
With Lycomede til he was met:
With curtais wordis he him gret
And welcomed him with loueli chere,
And sette hem doun to-gedir In-fere
In his hye halle opon the dese.
Then seyde the kyng Lycomedes:
'SIr kyng, to me welcome thow art!
But me meruayles what [t]he has gart
Come fro thi Grues thus fer to me?
And what thow wole In this contre?
What tydandes haue ȝe broght hidur?
And what thow wol with the haue thidur?
For wele I wot: with-oute skille
Art thow not comen this lond tille.'
¶ Menelaus to him then sayde:
'Sir Licomede, so thow be payde!
I schal the telle myn erande, whi
That I come hedir sicurly:
The kynges of Grece alle In-fere
The gretes wele, as thow seis here,
Bothe by mouthe & eke by letter,
And sayn that it were moche better,
Child Pirrus, that thow holdest here
In vn-manhed & foule manere,
To send to hem & to his kynMS. And to hem & to his kyn.,
And loos & worschipe to wyn,
¶ To venge his fader on his Enemys,
When he were man of loos & pris;
And be his fader fomen bane,
The order of knyȝt when he hadde tane,
And not to ligge thus In scolcurye.
Hit is, sir kyng, a vylonye
To the, sir, and to him bothe,
The kynges of Grece with the are wrothe;
And thow him holdis as brid In cage,
That he wynnes him no vasselage,
But leses his time & his loos,
And helpis hem not aȝeyn here foos,
As him by skyl auȝt for to do.
And thus bad thei me say the to.'
LIcomede wex blo of blod,
When he these wordes vndirstod;
'Off god'—sayde he—'I take witnesse,
On no wise long on me non isse
That he hath dwelled so longe fro ȝow:
For I wiste neuere whi ne how
I myght him sende, ne by what man;
Ne he him-selff the way ne can.
¶ But sithen the kynges for him haue sent,
And thow thi-selff [art] here present,
Child Pirrus, I the be-teche
Thi fader deth to gete wreche.
He[r] by the hand I the him bede,
Ouer the see with the to lede
¶ Hic venit Pirrus ad Grecos.
Vnto the lordis & kynges alle.
I pray to god, that fair mot ȝow falle.'
MEnelaus when he herde that,
He was Ioyful ther he sat;
Him thoght his herte wel hesed,
Whan he of him was feffed & sesed.
He thoght no lenger ther to dwelle,
He hadde no tale lenger to telle;
He toke his leue at him to go
To hem of Grece that he come fro.
¶ He bad god that made sonne & mone,
Brynge hem thedir sound & sone;
And thei to-gedir verament
Vn-to the see thei ben y-went.
When thei were comen to her schippis,
Eche man afftir other In hippis;
And drow vp Anker & her ropes,
And caste on hem cloke & copes
To saue hem fro the salt water,
That it be-sprenged not her hater.
¶ Thei sayled bothe day & nyght
With spede & haste that thei myght
Ouer strem & ouer wawe,
Vn-til thei stonde before hem sawe
Off trusti Troye the hye walles,
Here gaye toures, & her halles;
On hem schon the sonne bem.
Thei sayled forth ouer that strem,
Til thei were come to here flote;
Thei wente to londe tho by her bote,
¶ Thei leue her schippis & gon to londe
And riden to-gedir hond In honde,
Til thei come to here Pauylons
Among the Grues and the Gryffons.
AMong the Gregais Pirrus is lyght
A fair man, hardi, & wyght;
Many a lord Pirrus by-held,
Whan he was broght to that teld:
Thei were echon for him ful glad,
Hem thoght that thei his fader had
With hem a-ȝeyn, so was he lyche
To his fader—by heuene ryche!
¶ Agamenoun, her Emperour,
And alle the lordis did him honour,
And did him worschepe ther he stode,
And welcomed him with chere gode.
The Murundones come to him than,
And welcomed him, euery man;
Ioyful & glad thei with him wore,
That he hem was comen thore.
¶ Agamenoun as sone gan brynge
Al his fader richesse & rynge:
Pauelons, tentis, & his teldis,
Stedis, speres, helmys, & scheldis,
And al his gode fair Armure,
And clothes of gold, fyne & pure,
Off say, of silk, bothe red & grene,—
And ȝaff hem Pirrus al be-dene.
The morwe Afftir thei made him knyȝt,
Richely was he dubbed & dyȝt.
¶ Ayax Thelamaneus
Off hem was most glorious,
He gyrd his sword aboute his swire
And sayde to him: 'Pirrus, leue sire!
I gird the with thi sword, take hede
To venge thi fader as thow most nede.
And moche Ioye haue thow of thin ordur of knyȝt,
As thi fader hadde that venged vs In fyȝt.'
Two lordes of Grece, princes, skete
Set his spores on his fete,
That were of gold, pure & ffyn.
Then myȝt men here a mechel dyn
Off Trompes, pipes, & other glues
Among the Gregais & the Grues.
Gret was the murthe & the melody
That ther was of Menstralcy;
¶ The Grues held gret feste & strong
Many dayes afftir and long,
And made gret Ioye & solacece very small on erasure.
In worschipe of him that newe knyȝt was.
PIrrus is knyght gode & gay,
Off ffair porture, of gode aray,
Off wel riche apparayle,
Off gentil blod, of fair entayle;
He prayes tho his Murundones
That thei go sette here Pauylones,
As thei were wont to stande
The while his fader was lyuande.
And thei on to-geder went
And did her lordes comandement;
And his tentis tho thei maked,
Faste & sekirly thei hem staked
In-to the erthe with lyne & cordes;
And sette his tentis by other lordes.
¶ And whiles the trues last
A-qwynted with the knyȝtes fast,
In fair manere & gode beryng
He was a-qweynt with euery kyng,
Er euere the trewes was fully ent;
But it is ney verament,
Ȝe that thei be-twene hem set
The trewes to holde as thei be-het.
THe trewes are past with-oute faile,
And day is comen of here batayle:
Thei buske hem faste & bowes bende,
Vnto the fyght aȝeyn to wende.
Pirrus In his fader wede
That vaunwarde that day he dos lede,
¶ He hath his batayle wel arayed
Off men byfore offte assayed;
He is wel dight & horsed als,
His fader scheld aboute his hals
And Achilles swerd also,—
Many man to dethe ther-with was do,—
¶ His armes Are stronge & sicur.
And he with that rides In-to that bicur,
He passes forth ouer the dikes
With his men that wel him likes,
And takes the fel[d] brod & large
Couered vndir helmMS. him. & targe.
And euery a-nother kyng
With alle her men In her ledyng,
Knyght & sqwyer, erle & swayn,
Rode & ȝede vn-to that playn
Ther thei were wont for to fyght,
With thosandes sixti two & eyght.
¶ Ther was the duk Menescene
With alle his men, & kyng Chelene,
So was the kyng Menelaus,
And Ayax Thelemaneus,
Dux Nestor, & Vlixes,
And the doghti Diomedes,
Theseus kyng, & Thelamon,
And the Emperour Agameon,
Polinytes, & kyng Thoas:
Tho rod thei forth on a pas,
Euery a lord with his ost,
Proudly pyght lest and most.
¶ And thei of Troye were comen out
With-oute drede or any dout,
Off here enemys hadde thei no drede.
Bothe the parties to-gedur ȝede,
A wicked werre thei ther by-gan,
Thei sclow ten thousand, er thei blan.
NOw are thei to-gedir samen,
Alle on ernest & not on gamen;
Now are thei to-gedir broght,
A woful day schal ther be wroght:
The speremen ride, the bowemen schote,
Thei fel faste ded at horses fote,
The swordmen smyte & strokes ȝeue,
Helmes breke, & scheldes cleue.
¶ Lordes & laddes lesen her lyues,
Echon other rendis & ryues;
A bitter bale haue thei be-gonne,
Now this folk to-gedir is ronne.
Ther were bowes al to-brokenMS. alto broken.,
Stedis stiked & thorow-stoken,
Helmes holed, & heuedis houen,
Knees & cropes with knyues clouen,
Schonkes schyuered, schuldres schorne,
Blodi burnes In bostis borne;
With ferli fare tho freykes ferde,
Off suche an hepe neuere I herde.
¶ Pirrus prikes aboute & praunses,
Fro man to man aboute he launses
Al his strengthe for to assay,
He dud gret harm on hem that day;
His fader Armes that day he bare.
Off Palamides so was he ware
A-ȝeyn the Gryffons fyghtyng faste,
Grues & Gregais doun he caste.
¶ He turned his stede to him sone,
He thoght on him to wynne his schone:
He rode to him with so gret haste
That al his spere In-sunder braste,
That he fel doun opon the grounde
And hadde a wel greuous wounde.
His gode sword sone he drow,
He wol him take if he mow,
Or of his hand ther be sclayn;
Ther-to putte he al his mayn.
¶ But that be-held kyng Philomene,
He saw the fyght hem be-twene;
He saw the knyȝt Palamydese seems to be altered to a.
In gret perel of Pirrus was,
For that newe knyȝt Pirrus
Was with him ful noyus,
For he thoght him so mate & make,
That he scholde scle him or take.
But Philomene hit myght not thole:
To Pirrus turned he his fole,
And led with him al his meyne—
Two thousandes knyȝtes & hundres thre,—
And put Pirrus fro his euel wille,
That he ne scholde his falawe spille
Ne that tyme him not dere,
For no-thyng that he myght swere.
PIrrus for-sothe hadde gret dispit
That he fro him scholde be quyt,
With Philomene was he wrothe:
He leues that other and to him gothe,
With tene of herte kepte he that kyng,
And toke him thanne In suche a swyng
That he bar him tayl ouer top,
That he lay ther as a sop.
¶ Then myȝt men here a wondir cry
Off alle his men stode him by,
For Pirrus wolde her lord haue,
And thei wolde him fayn saue:
Thei wol ther her lyues stende,
But thei may here lord defende;
Thei put hem certes In gret perel
To saue her lord In that torpel.
But al was not that thei coude do,
For thei no-wyse myght come him to,
For Murundones were so wode
That thei her strengthe styffly with-stode.
PAlidomas come thanne rennande,
And al his ost with wepen in hande,
To socoure & helpe kyng Philomene,
As he did him In his gret tene;
But he myght not ffor that he couthe,
For al that he was knyȝt In his ȝouthe,
He myght not saue him fro her handis,
That thei ne him toke & putte In bandis
To lede him to Pirrus tent.
But of her purpos were thei rent,
For that louely lady fre
Qwit him out of here pouste.
¶ The stour was fel & strong,
The hilles of here strokes rong:
Pantasalye come thedur than
With many hardy kene womman,
A sterne stede the quene be-strode,
Among the Gregays that lady rode;
Sche sclow & felde many & fele,—
The sothe to say and not to hele.
Hir armes were white as swannes flawe;
The Grues hir dredde whan thei hir sawe,
For sche on hem gret Angur did
And sche to hem hir strengthe so kid.
¶ Thelamanyus Ayax was war
That sche to grounde Gregais bar,
In his herte hadde he gret Ire:
He toke a spere & rode to hire
And bar that ladi fro hur stede,
Vn-warned or sche toke hede.
But sche lepe vp as myghti quene,
Hardi & bold, doghti & kene,
Opon hir feet with-oute dwellyng,
And swor that he schold thatMS. bye that. fellyng
In that day wel sore a-bye:
Sche lete a stroke vpon him flye,
¶ Sche ȝaff him certis suche a pat
That doun to grounde he fel flat;
Sche toke hir hors & lepe vp tite—
Maugre hir foos that stode be-syde—
And rod hir thanne among the Grues
And mechel bale amonges hem breues,
Sche wroght hem wo In hir wode res,
And many sche slees er sche hadde pes.
PAntasalye hir stede by-strides,
Among Gregais & Grues rides;
Tydynges were that ladi tolde
That sir Pirrus, that newe knyȝt bolde,
Hadde Philomene, that kyng, tan
And swor that heMS. she. scholde be his ban.
That bold mayden meved hir blod,
When sche tho tydandes vndirstode;
¶ Sche vowes to god & alle his halowes:
"He scholde not lede him ouer the ffalowes
To tent ne Pauyloun that he hadde."
Alle hir Maydenes than sche badde
To folwe hir where sche ȝede,
And leue hir not for no nede.
¶ With-oute mo wordes went sche forth,
With alle hir maydenes that mechel were worth,
To Pirrus & to his Murundones
That with the help of her Gryffones
Hadde taken that kyng Philomene.
Harde strokes gan sche hem lene,
¶ The Murundones sche sondres & schedes,
And fele of hem sche maymes & hedes;
Many a baly scho ther rittes
And many a scheld sche al to-sclittesMS. alto sclittes.;
Many a knyȝt les his entrayles.
So harde the quene hem assayles.
UHen Pirrus saw that mescheff—
Sche felde his men at gret repreue,
How thei were hurt and euel dyght,
Wounded euele and discomfyght
With that quene Pantasalye,—
Opon his men be-gan he crye
And sayde: 'men, for him ȝow boght!
What do ȝe? ne schame ȝe noght
To dye so foule of feble thinges?
A few wommen to dethe ȝow brynges?
¶ But turnes aȝeyn & folowes me,
And thei schal sone discomfit be!
Ther schal but fewe—so mote I thryue!—
Off hem passe away on lyue!'
He let thenne go kyng Philomene
From him & hise qwite and clene
With-oute ramsoun or any mede,
For he myght him not thennes lede.
PAntasalye herde his speche,
On him sche thoght to take wreche:
Sche drow toward him ner
And seyde to him, that he myght her:
'Off thi proude wordes ne of thi sawe
Ne of thi-selff I ȝeue not an hawe!
By him that made al mydelerde!
Off the am I not a-ferde,
But now and euere I the dispise
For thi fader cowardise,
That he falsly sclow that knyght
That passed al other In strengthe & myght,
¶ In doghtinesse & In valoure,—
Off Chiualrie he was the floure,—
The worthi knyȝt Ector the gode!
Alle the men of gentil blode
Aught to venge his deth by skylle
On the & alle that longeth the tille!
And not only al gentil men,
But we that are here wymmen
Are comen to venge with oure myght
The deth of that gentil knyght!
¶ For ȝit I hope that I & myne
Schal venge his dethe on the & thine,
For that fals traytour coward, thi sire!
His soule mot brenne In helle fire!'
At hir wordes Pirrus not smyled,
When he herde him so reuyled:
With-oute worde & mochel tene
Rode sir Pirrus to the quene,
To venge him if that he myght;
And whan sche saw come that knyght,
Sche slaked hir bridel & rayne
And ran to him with al hir mayne,
¶ Hic Pirrus pugnauit cum Pantasalie Regina.
AndAnd, though the catch-word on lf. 248, bk. is Sche. kept that knyght In hir rennyng.
In his grete tene and herte-brennyng
¶ Pirrus smot Pantasalye
Opon the scheld so an hye,
That al his spere In-sunder brast;
But sche was not doun cast.
But sche smot him wers than so,
Sche brast hir spere on him In-two
And bare him ouer the sadel y-wis,
That he hadde leue the grounde to kys.
But sicurli he ros vp sone,
To venge that schame that sche had done
Vn to him by-fore his folke,
For tene his herte began to bolke:
¶ Stalworthe strokes sadde & sore
Pirrus strok at hir thore,
Thei made tho so gode pay
That al her harneis was of blod ray;
Al on blod was her harneis.
But thenne come many proude Gregeis
And partid hem sone a-twynne,
And of her baret made hem blynne,
And broght Pirrus a stede strong
And horsed him hem among.
PIrrus now & Pantasalie
Bene partid with gret envie;
Pan[ta]salye hir men relies,
Philomene to hir he hyes
And thanked hir of his lyueraunce,
And prayes god: "ȝeue hir gode chaunce;
For sicurly nadde sche bene,
His lyff hadde ben lorn clene."
¶ Agamenoun, her Emperour,
Come then doun vnto that stour,
With Alle his men Diomedes;
So did the duk of Athenes,
And alle thes other kynges euerychone
With bowe, alblaster, and flone.
¶ The quene with hir men asamed,
With the Gregeis was sche gramed,
And the gode kyng Philomenys
Relyed aȝeyn to hir al his;
And then come thedir a gode pas
Kyng Remus, & Eueas,
To socour hem with her meyne.
Sicurly then myght men se
A wonder stour a-ȝeyn be-gynne,
To se who scholde the felde wynne.
¶ When ayther of hem were so refresched,
Echon on other dong & thresched,
That thei fel doun as water fro yse;
Many a worthi man of prise
Be-twene hem tho her liff thei tynte,
Off that assaut er thei wolde stynte.
Pirrus rode among the Troiens,
He bete doun of her Citesens
And sclow right fele,—as Dares sais,—
He halp wel that day Gregais.
PIrrus rode to sir GlamicounMS. . . . ou . . . son; see note on p. 450.,
A knyght that was Antenor soneMS. . . . ou . . . son; see note on p. 450.,
Palidomas was his half-brother,
On lyue that tyme hadde he non other,—
Off Another moder born;
His lyff for-sothe has he lorn:
For sir Pirrus In his wode layke,
In his rydynge & In his rayke,
With his sword smot he so sore,
That he among hem died thore.
¶ Hic Pirrus occidit Glamiconem.
¶ Pantasalye by-fore hir eyne
Saw Glamicoun die with pyne,
Sche saw him die bothe blak & blo;
For him sche was In herte wo,
And for-fouȝten as sche was
Sche come fro hir meygne a-pas
And rod to him ouer-twert.
And Pirrus it saw with Irus hert,
And saw that quene to him ride
As faste as sche myȝt glide:
He cauȝte a spere—I the be-hete—
Strong & styff, that quene to mete;
¶ He stroke his stede & mette the quene,
And so did sche him, & that was sene!
Ayther other so assayled,
That neyther of other fayled;
Thei mette so that bothe ȝede doun
Fro her hors opounMS. perhaps opon. her croun.
¶ But sone & smert bothe vp ros,
And ayther of hem to hors gos,
And lepe vp with mochel spede;
And eyther of hem to other ȝede,
And fauȝt to-gedur harde & longe,
Til thei were partid with that thronge.
Or elles longe or it hadde be nyght,
That on hadde be foule discomfight.
POlidomas when he herde say
His brother had mad his endyng-day,
Wo was him whan he hit wiste:
Among the Gregais he him thruste,
He sclow & faste leyde to grounde,
He ȝaff the Gregais many a wounde,
And sclow hem doun as he were wood;
Thei lay & sprauled In her blood.
And the quene Pantasalye—
Thorow hir many doth dye:
So thorow here bothe myghtMS. myghtes.
The Gregais were sone discomfightMS. discomfightes.
And fledde away & lefft her place,
And thei hem folwed a long pace.
¶ But Diomedes, and sir Pirrus,
And the doghti Thelamenyus,
These thre thanne hur chase with-stode
And thei no further bacward ȝode,
But turned aȝeyn & lefft here fyght,
For it was ner-hond the nyght:
The sonne was went In-to the west,
Hit was ney set & gon to restScribblings in the margin, but blotted and therefore indistinct.;
And thei departed with weri bones
And ȝede alle hom to her wones,—
¶ Some to tentis & some to toun,—
Did of her Armes & set hem doun,
Ete & drank and ȝede to bedde,
Whan thei were alle wel y-fedde,—
And ros a-ȝeyn when thei myght se,
For thei wol not lete it so be,
Vn-to that on were vndirlyng,
And that other lord &MS. α. kyng.
NIght is went with his merke cloude,
The waites blew, the Cokkes croude,
The sonne is rysen & schynes bryght,
And thei are vppe & redi dyght
Vnto her note aȝeyn to go,
Ther thei the nyght be-fore come fro.
Thei are horsed & Armed redi to fare,
Thei are aȝeyn to-gedir thare,
Ther are thei to-gedir met;
Iff any lefft In other det,
Thei thenke hit schal be wel quyt.
Thei fare as theithei twice in MS. were out of wyt,
¶ So betis & lais echon on other
Stalworth strokes as a ffother,
Ryues, & rendes, and doun beres,
Woundes, & slees, & al to-teres,—
Fro morwe erly that thei hadde sonne
Til it was nyght thei neuere blonne,
And thus ferde thei with-outen les
Many a day, er thei hadde pes.
¶ But by him that schope book & belle!
Alle here dedis may I not telle,
How thei fauȝt to-geder euery day;
Alle here dedis may I not say.
For sicurly with-oute fayle—
As was wreten of that batayle:—
THei fauȝt to-geder a ful foure woke
That thei neuere reste ne toke,
Day by day to lande & forow;
And alle the foldMS. folk. thorow & thorow
Lay sprad with dede bodies,
As it hadde ben rattis or mys.
For sicurly by-twene hem was sclayn
With-Inne the dayes In that champayn
¶ —As Dares seis—thousandes ten
Off men of Armes & doghti men,
With-oute comune & other pedale,—
That was wel mo with-oute fayle.
And the quene Pantasalie
Off hir Maydenes a gret partie
Hadde tynt with-Inne a while && is somewhat blotted. lorn,
That lay ther ded al to-schorn.
Viij & xxti dayes plener
Held thei the fight al entierMS. entrer.
¶ Hic ceperunt pacem inter e os ad sepelliendum corpora mortuorum.
Day by day vpon the wold,
That thei reste neuere—as I ȝow told—
Til al that place & al that feld,
Ther the fyght [was] be-twene hem held,
Was spred ful of dede bodies
As thei myght ligge y-wis.
And than was take another trewes
Be-twix the Troyens & the Grwes,
That thei myȝt make clene the feld;
That ligge so ded vndir her scheld,
That thei with hem efft were not let,
When thei were efft-sones y-met.
THe trewes ar take & almost past,
And sicurly these arn the last
That euere schal Troyens or Grues take;
For now schal thei an ende make;
The next batayle schal be her ende;
For than schal Troye to schame wende,
And so schal alle the riche Troyens,
For thei schal lese that hem mayntens.
¶ Schal neuere the kyng ne non of hise
For al his noble & his vpprise
A-ȝeyn Gregeis mayntene more stoure,
For now lesen thei her mayntenoure
And alle the gode that thei owe,
And here houses brende on a lowe;
And thei schal go to dethe vile,
Euerychon with-Inne a while.
¶ But that schal be by fals tresoun;
God ȝeue hem his malesoun
ThatMS. And. the tresoun schope & wroght
And that hit so aboute broght!
That was Antenor & Eueas—
God ȝeue hem an euel gras!
Come thei neuere In heuene riche,
That thei wolde so her lord be-swyke
And al that gentil nacioun!
Schal be put In-to dampnacioun!
TErme is went out of the trewe,
And that may men of Troye rewe:
For if thei wiste what wolde be-tyde,
Thei wolde not out of Troye ride.
But now ben thei of Troye out-gon,
Wel on horse is euerychone;
¶ In-to the feld are thei alle went,
With scharp sword & bowe bent
For to schete & smyte In haste;
And thei of Grece ben comyng faste.
Ful wel are thei now batayled,
And echon other faste assayled
With swordes & speres scharpe;
Off alle her dedis may I not carpe.
¶ But Pirrus saw Pantasaly;
Be-twene hem two was gret envy:
He rode to hir, & sche to him,
Ayther was on other brym;
Pirrus smot that ladi so,
That he to-barst his spere In-two
And thrilled thorow-out hir scheld.
But that quene hir sadel held
That sche fel not with his smytyng,
But sche smot him with-oute flytyng
And ȝaff him on vn-to his mede,
That hir spere In-sunder ȝede;
But he fel not ther-with to grounde,
But sche ȝaff him an hidous wounde
That of hir spere a gret parti
Lefft stone-stille In his bodi.
¶ Hic Pirrus occidit Pantasaliam Reginam.
PIrrus is smeten & euel dyght,
His blod ran out with mochel myght;
For him was made a gret cry
Off alle the Grues that were him by;
For thei were alle In mochel doute
How the spere-hed scholde gon oute
With-oute lesyng of his lyff.
Then be-gan a delful stryff
To hem of Troye ther thei stode:
For alle the Grues were ney wode
That sche smot him so greuously;
Thei cried on hir dispitously,
¶ Thei vowed to god thei scholde hir sclo.
Many a Grewe & Gregais tho
Ȝede aboute that douȝti quene
And did hir mochel wo & tene,
Thei brak hir helm & hir hauberk
And made al blod hir white scherk,
Thei brast on-sonder many a mayle,
The stalworthe lace of hir ventayle,
Sicurly In-to her hare
Thei maken hir hed naked & bare.
¶ When Pirrus saw hir hed al naked,
In his body thoow he were staked
With his spere-hede, to hir he soght
As he of his lyff not roght;
Off lyff ne deth ȝaff he no tale,
But that he myȝt brewe hir bale
When he saw hir In suche a poynt:
He smot hir euene In the Ioynt
Be-twene the sholder & the scheld,
That hir lefft arme fflow In the feld,
And sche fel ded & stille lay
Among hir horses as clot ofMS. In. clay;
And Pirrus In his greuaunce
Toke on hir a foule vengaunce,
For he lefft not of hir a spot
That he ne hit hewe as flesch to pot.
And he him-selff wex than so wan
For blod that out of his wounde ran,
That he amonges hem fel ther doun
Fro his hors In a dede swoun;
¶ But his gode menMS. godemen. lyff[t] him on loffte
And on his scheld laide him soffte
And bare him hom to his tentis,
And did of alle his garnementis
And laide him faire vpon his bed,
For he was feble and al by-bled.
PAntasalie is ded & sclayn,
And thei of Grece are ther-of ffayn;
But hir maydenes haue sorwe y-now,
Many a Grewe that tyme thei sclow.
Thei were so for the quene en-yred,
To dye ther thei desired:
Troyens thanne & tho wymmen
Sclow two thousand doghti men.
¶ But what myght that a-vayle,
Whil ther were ȝit with-oute fayle
Thre hundrid thousand of Gregais knyghtes,
Off bold men & stronge In fyghtes,
And of sqwyers gret multitude?
And ȝaff thanne strokes wel vnrude,
And sclow the Troyens as thei were wode,
That men myght haue bathed In here blode:
¶ Dares seith "thei sclow that tyde
Ten thousand men of TroiansTroians by another hand on erasure. syde."
Wherfore alle that myght ffle
Fled away to hir Cite
And spered the ȝates wel and faste
With many a spire that wel wolde laste,
With lokke & keye, haspe & pyn;
And held hem alle the toun with-In,
For of the Gregais hadde thei suche doute
That thei wolde no more passe oute:
¶ The Troyens wol no more out-wende,
For now is broght the fight to ende;
Thei ȝeue no tent to no-thyng elles—
Non that In the toun dwelles—
But her walles for to wayte,
That thei with-oute with no dissayte,
With no qwayntiseMS. qwanytise., ne with no wile
By day ne nyȝt hem t[h]o by-gyle.
For thei are sicur y-now & traist,
That thei ne thar no-thyng be a-baist;
For thei wot wel thei are so hye,
That no-thyng In erthe but foule that flye
May come hem to, for out thei do eyȝt,
But if it were with tresoun or sleȝt.
THe waytes is set, the toun kept,
That thei wele & sicurly slept.
But thei of Grece haue hem be-cast
With the sege wele & faste
On euery a side ouer-al aboute,
That thei may not for hem come oute.
But ther-of haue thei no drede,
But if thei haue of vitayles nede;
¶ For thei may leue & wele fare
With-Inne the toun for euer-mare,
But it be so that hem fayle
Corn, or wyn, or other vytayle.
The Troyens make gret del echone,
Gret mornyng, & mochel mone;
Alle that euere to Troye out long
Maken gret dele and sorwe strong,—
¶ Kyng & knyȝt,—whan thei hem thenche
Off that worthi doughti wenche,
That noble quene Pantasalie,
That hem defended so nobly.
The sorwe is gret that thei alle make
For hir dethe & for hir sake,
That thei may not hir bodi haue—
As hem wel auȝt—In erthe to graue.
¶ The Gregais wol not hir bodi grauen,
But let hit ligge to roke & rauen;
But sir Pirrus with that seyde: 'nay!
Hit is no skyl'—he sayde—'parfay!
That so douȝti a body as sche
A-bouen erthe vn-grauen be,
Ne be with best ne foule y-schent!
But fair be layd In monument!'
¶ But Diomedes verament
With-sayde sir Pirrus Iugement,
He seyde for-sothe "that hir bodi
To ligge In erthe is not worthi."
But ther-to come it at the laste
That In a lake that quene was caste,
For thei seyde "thei wolde hir not brynge
To sepulcre ne to bureyng."
PAntasalye liggis In a pole;
The Troyens make moche doleMS. dele, but the first e seems to be corrected to o.,
Thei make sorwe that sche is ded;
For now are thei with-outen red,
Thei haue no hope to noMS. to no so. socour;
With-Inne the toun make thei soiour,
For thei se wel: hem is no bote
A-ȝeyn Gregays more to mote.
Anchises, that waried wyght,
That AncienMS. Amicien; cf. l. 17838. schrewe, that olde knyght,—
And his sone, fals Eueas,—
And Antenor—thes thre, alas!—
And his sone Palidamas—
These foure be-gan the compas:
How thei myght best saue her lyues
And alle her godis & here wyues:
¶ Thei toke amonges hem many consayle,
What myght best to hem a-vayle?
But at the laste, thus thei ent,
That thei were alle at this assent:
"That if thei were dryuen ther-to
That thei myght no more do,
Thei scholde the kyng & his be-swyke,
To saue hem foure and that hem lyke,
Alle here kynrede & here frende,—
And Priamus & his to schende."
¶ So sayde thei be-twene hem thore:
To consayle the kyng that it gode wore
A fynal pees of Grues to craue,
For so myght he his lyff saue;
And that he wolde take a-ȝeyn
To Menelaus the quene Eleyn,
And make amendes of that Paris
Hadde done to hem & heris amys,
And do restore that he & hise
Hadde born fro hem In any wyse.
¶ But who myght leue that any lord
Off hem of Grece that wold acord?
To graunte the pees to hem so sone
Afftir the harm that thei hadde done,
And greued hem sore & offte anoyed,
And so fele lordes of hem distroyed;
¶ Qualiter Priamus & omnes alij. Troiani decepti fuerunt.
And thei haue hope the toun to wynne,
And alle the godis that ben ther-Inne;
For In the toun so bold none was,
With-oute the ȝates that durst pas.
But sicurly ther myght men se
That it myȝt not but tresoun be,
Openly & discouert,
And it was tresoun riȝt apert.
But thei myght speke of a pees,
Thei myght not elles speke with Gregais,
For to telle hem of here wille,
How the toun wolde thei tresoun & spille.
THese traytoures that this toun wol traye,
Thei are went her erande to saye
To the kyng In the sale:
Boldely thei telle bothe her tale
Be-fore the kyng & lordes fele;
But her tresoun thei wol slely hele,
Thei wil not telle what thei thenke—
The deuel hem mot In helle senke!
¶ When Priamus saw of pees thei touched,
Off here wordes no gode he souched:
Him thoght it was no gode tokenyng
That thei of pes made procuryng
Afftir the harm that he hadde tan
Off hem that were his sones ban,
Him thoght it souned to no gode
That thei of pees hadde turned her mode;
¶ He saw right wele here two assent,
To traye the toun that thei haue ment,
And not-for-thi he held him stille
And lete him speke & say here wille,
For he wolde not lette hem perceyue
That he saw thei wolde him disceyue.
¶ Hic Antenor & Eueas loquitur de pace In decepcione Regis.
He spak to hem & seide: 'lordynges!
I wil a-vise me of thes thynges;
I wol not ȝeue her-of Iugement
With-oute consayl & avisement.'
¶ Fals Eueas scornfulli be-gan
Vn-to the kyng speke than,
He seyde: 'and thow wol consayle take,
I rede that thow oures not for-sake.
If the hit like, the ne thar non other;
Iff thow dost not, thow may take other.'
¶ The kyng answered with wordes meke·:
'Lordynges!'—he sais—'I ȝow be-seke
That with my wordes ȝe wrathe ȝow not!
For ȝe wot wele—by him vs bouȝt!—
That I haue done ȝoure consayl here,
In al my lyff I wayved hit neuere.
And ȝe say now: "I holde it gode."
But if it were I vndirstode
A-nother were more vn-to oure prow,
Me thenke it scholde not greue ȝow
Thoow I lefft ȝoure & let it be,
And toke that wolde helpe ȝow & me.'
ANtenor ros fro the des
And seide: 'sir kyng! to speke of pes
It is not euel—I vndirstonde,—
But good to ȝow and alle ȝoure londe;
For ȝe wot wel what noye & care
That ȝe & ȝoures now Inne are:
¶ Be-fore ȝoure ȝatis ligge ffyffty kynges
That wil not parte for no thynges,
Til thei may this toun ouer-throwe
And alle the houses sette on a lowe,
And sle, sir kyng, ȝow & ȝoure
And vs also and alle oure.
Ne ȝe may not with-stonde her myȝt,
Ne ȝe dar not with hem fyȝt,
And ȝe ar now of nom-power,
Ne vs comes no help fer ne ner.
¶ For-whi I say: better hit is
Off two harmes to chose the les:
Better is vs & ȝow also
That ȝe sende the Gregais to,
To loke if thei wil graunt ȝow grith
Off a ffynal pes, lyff and lyth;—
And ȝeue a-ȝeyn Eleyne, the quene,
For wham fele lordis haue ded bene;—
And alle the godis a-ȝeyn restore—
And, if thei wil, ȝet somdel more,—
That Paris In his robbery
Toke fro hem In Thesaly.'
AMphimacus to speke hadde haste,
On of the kynges sones a-baste;
He ros vp thanne with teneful herte
And seide to him wordes smerte,
Herynge alle thatthat twice in MS. set on benche:
'Thi wyles ben wicked, so ben thi wrenche!'
He seide: 'gode menMS. godemen., opon my treuthe!
Thow art fals, and that is reuthe!
Thi herte is turned, & so it semes,
That thi kyng & vs thus demes!
In the for-sothe is now no trayst,
When thow these wordes vn-to vs sayst!
¶ For thi kyng scholde thow suffre mescheff,
Er thow saw him falle In any repreff,
And thow now procurest him vylonye!
Erst scholdestow with him die!
Wele may men se: thi herte is chaunged!
For we are not ȝit so mys-kannged,
That er schal twenti thousand men
Die ther-to and thousandes ten.'
Ful wylusly he him with-sayde,
For he was no-thyng with him payde.
¶ But Eueas thanne his wordes pesed,
With faire wordes his herte he sesed;
HeMS. Thei. seyde vnto him at the laste:
'The Gregeis haue vs vmbe-caste,
That we dar no more fyght with hem,
Ne open oure ȝates for drede of hem;
A-nother way—if we be sly—
By-houes vs seke to haue vs by,
And sicurly it is non other
Then bye the pes, my leue brother!'
FOr alle the good of hethen Spayne
Myght the kyng him [not] refrayne,
He was so ful of care & wo;
Vnto the traytoures seide he tho:
'Certes'—he seyde—'ȝe are to blame!
Ȝe were worthi to suffre schame!
In ȝoure herte how myght ȝe ffynde
A-ȝeyn me now to be vnkynde?
In my gret elde to waxe vn-trewe
That euere ȝit haue ben me drewe?
¶ And nother of ȝow may certes say
That I did neuere be nyght ne day
Any-thyng a-ȝeyn Gregays
In tyme of werre ne of pays
That harmed hem an heryng-tayle,
That it ne was by ȝoure consayle.
And thow, Eueas, was cheff consaylour
To Paris, my sone, In his labour
To rawische Heleyne & lede hir away;
Thow may not say ther-of "nay":
Ne hadde, Eueas, thi conseyl bene,
Eleyne ne hadde this toun sene.
And now afftir my sones ded
I se ȝow two at otheres red
To consail me, to lese my name
And falle for euere In foule schame,
That I scholde now me meke
The Gregais mercy to be-seke
That haue alle my sones sclayn
And done me wo & mechel payn;
And ȝit scholde I hem merci crye
And pes & loue of hem byeOrder in MS., 17418, 17417.?
¶ Hit were a schame to alle my kynde
That I scholde me to hem bynde,—
So haue I of my bodi hele!
This consayl is nother good ne lele,
But waried worthe the tonge it tolde!
For I drede we ben alle solde,
For we ben lorn maugre oure tethe,
Ryght noght it is—& that we sethe.'
¶ Eueas thanne was wonder wrothe,
He ros vp & thenne gothe;
He was Angred with that sawe,
Off his kyng stode him none awe.
Wordes fele of gret outrage,—
Herande alle the baronage,—
SPake he thanne vn-to the kyng,
That were veleyns wordes & vn-sittyng.
He gos hamward vnto his halle
With-oute leue of hem alle,
He wolde no leue at hem nym.
But Antenor ȝede home with hym;
Thei are bothe hom to-gedur went.
By him that made bothe Twede & Trent!
¶ Hic Priamus flebat.
Iff the kyng hadde wist here consayl,
It hadde ben to hem to wrother-hayl!
PRyamus ryses and sore wepis
That al his brest the water wetis,
For he parseyued apertly
That his deth for-sothe is ney;
The kynges herte ful sore tendres.
The kyng thanne sone sendes
Afftir his soone Amphimacus,
And seis ful rewfully to him thus,
Sore wepyng and bitterly:
'I am thi fader, sone, witterly;
We are bothe of on blod & flesche,
Holde we to-gedur for hard or nesche!
¶ Lete vs with-stonde whil that we may
The two traitoures, sone, I the pray!
I se thei haue to-gedir spoken
That thei myȝt on vs be wroken;
Thei thenke the Grues schal sle me
And to haue this riche Cite.
I wolde fayn do bote ther-In,
Iff that I myght with any gyn:
¶ To-morwe next I wol thow be
With priue folk of oure meygne
Armed wele, when ȝe haue dyne;
That no man wite of ȝoure couyne,
Vn-til we haue al fully ent
Oure consayl & oure parlement.
And whan it is comen to euen-tyde
That thei bothe schal hamwardis ride,
I wol that thow & thine out-wende
And bothe the traytours al to-rende.'
¶ Amphimacus seide: "it scholde be done,
By him that made bothe sonne & mone!"
But al this myght not hem a-vayle:
I wot neuere how that here consayle
Was told [anon] to Eueas,
That he scholde dye for his trespas
That he hadde wratthed that day the kyng
And Antenor with his spekyng.
ENeasN altered from U by another hand. thanne was wroth y-now:
To alle his goddis he made a vow
That he wolde on him be wreke,
Iff that he myȝt go or speke.
He sente as sone his messager
Afftir Antenor, his comper;
And he come sone at his sonde
And him al redi ther he fonde.
Eneasn by another hand on erasure. told him tydande
Off the kyng & his couenande,
And "how he wolde sle hem bothe,
So was he to hem wrothe."
¶ Thes two to-gedir swere:
"That thei scholde fight to-geder there,
The toun to traye and tho ther-In,
And do sle hem & alle her kyn;
Thei schal not lette for leue ne lothe."
And ther-to haue thei sworn her othe:—
'And if so to-morweto by another hand on erasure. itit inserted by another hand over line. be-tide
ÞatAnd crossed out at this place in the MS., þt inserted by another hand in the margin. he wol vs at home abide,
We schal come on suche parayle
That if he thenke vs assayle,
¶ Off his purpos schal he be rent:
He schal not do as he hath ment.
I ȝeue right not of alle his tene,
Not the value of a bene;
For I wot wele: we schal be war
Off him, er we come thar.'
ERly on morwe whan it was tyme—
I trowe a litel afftir the Prime—
Priamus kyng sent his message
To alle the lordes of his vilage,
To Antenor & Eueas,
And bad hem come an hasti pas
To Ylion vn-to that kyng,
That thei ne made no dwellyng;
¶ And thei bad hem aȝeyn gone,
For thei wolde come a-none.
Thei armed hem at alle rightes
And toke with hem noble knyghtes,
And come for-sothe to the palais,
Armed wel In her harneis.
The kyng of hem was sore affrayed,
For he saw thanne he was be-wrayed;
The kyng thanne to his sone gos
And biddis him lette of his purpos,
He seyde: 'sone, leue this thyng!
We ben be-wreyed—by heuene kyng!'
¶ When these lordes were comen alle,
Thei sette hem doun In that halle,
And thei be-gan to-geder trete.
Eueas wolde his wil not lete,
He stode vp thanne & boldely spak
To hem of Troye, & bad hem mak
Be-twene hem of Grece—iff thei mostee inserted later, but by the same hand.—
A fynal pes, what-so it coste;—
¶ 'But ȝe done, ȝe bene alle lorn
For defaute of wyn & corn;
Ȝoure vitayles may not longe laste
That ne som-tyme thei wil be paste,
Then schal ȝe be wel euel at ayseMS. atayse.
And dye afftir that gret myssayse.
¶ Therfore lettes for no man
To make a pees—if ȝe can,—
And come at one sone with the Grues!'
But Priamus that saiyng refuces,
He him with-sais In fair manere;
But ther was non that wold him here,
Thei seyde echon: "thei vndirstode
The pees ffor hem was fair & gode
At suche a plyght as thei were at."
And thus sayde alle that ther sat;
¶ Saue Priamus with-seide it ay,
For he was ferd thei wolde him tray.
But Eueas In his wickednesse
Seide to him In gret felnesse:
'Wherto, sir kyng, makestow it so?
Wenes thow oure wille for-do
By thi Powere & thi maystrie?
Wil thow, nele thow—the pees schal be!'
PRyamus tho held him stille,
For he most nede suffre her wille;
He seyde: 'lordynges, now ȝe it say
That it is gode the Grues to pray
That thei wol graunte vs, for of oure,
A fynal pees to here honoure,—
Sithen ȝe it say, I wol also
Aȝeyn my wille—so haue I ro!
For I am ferd hit schal vs rewe
A pees to praye of any Grewe!'
The Troyens then Antenor chese
To do her erande to gete hem pese,
Off a fynal pes if thei myght spede
For siluer, gold, or any mede.
THei ȝede with braunches of Olyue-tre
Opon the walles, that thei myȝt se,
¶ Hic miserunt nuncios ad Grecos.
In tokene of pees & saue condit.
Whan thei of Grece hadde sen that sight,
The same tokene made thei a-ȝeyn.
The Troyens ther-of were ful fayn,
Thei lete Antenor a-non doun
By the wal out of the toun;
And whan he was on grounde set,
He ȝede to Grues with-oute let.
Whan he was comen to here hales,
Her Emperour told he his tales:
"How he was comen fro her kyng
To make by-twene hem sauȝtlyng."
¶ The Emperour sente afftir other kynges,
To here the sothe of these tydynges;
When thei were alle to-gedere thore,
He saide "that thre men, if it wore,
That wolde be trewe & trusti frende,
To brynge this thyng to an ende."
Thei chose thre men tho for hem alle:
"That what-so-euere scholde ther-of be-falle,
Thei scholde holde her ordinaunce
With tresoun or with disceyuaunce"
¶ And ther mademade twice in MS., the second one crossed out. thei alle her othes
By boke & belle & holy clothes
That longed to her sacrament:
"Thei scholde holde her surment."
THat one of hem was kyng of Grete,
The Gregais all by him wel lete;
That other was Diomedes,
The thridde of hem was Vlixes.
These thre the Gregais for hem toke
That what-soeuere thei wolde loke,
Thei wolde holde ferme & stable
With-oute dissayte or any fable.
¶ Consilium inter Antenorem. & Reges Grecorum.
¶ Thei asked him: "what was the thynges
That he to hem tydandes brynges?"
He seyde: 'lordynges, I wol ȝow telle:
My thinges that I wol ȝow of melle,
I wolde that no man here but I
And ȝe thre kynges witterly
That chosen were of euery lord,
To loke if we foure may a-cord.
¶ For if I tolde hit al on hye
That men myȝt here it openlye,
Hit myȝt be wist In other place,
And I be schent ther-by by cace
And lese my trauayle & lese my way
And gete me harm ther-by parfay.
I wol therfore that ȝe thre
Come here by-syde and speke with me,
That this thing may be priuay,
Iff that it be vnto ȝoure pay.'
THese thre kynges And Antenore
Fro the ffolk thei ȝede a-fore;
Antenor thanne, that lyther schrewe,
Be-gan his falshede to hem schewe:
He tolde hem of his tresoun
That he wolde do In schort sesoun,
"How he wolde by-traye the toun
And putte it al In her bandoun. . . .
Thus mechel to say to this couenande,
That thei alle thre holde vp her hande
And swere by him In heuene was:
'Thei scholde saue him & Eueas,
And alle her godis & her houses,
Here kynrede & al here spouses,
And her frendes that thei wolde chese
That thei ofof inserted over line. heres scholde not lese."'
¶ The sothe to say the kynges were glad,
Whan thei of him this tydandes had
That thei the toun so sone myght wynne
And haue the godis that were ther-Inne,
Kyng, & quene, and al his fe.
The kynges swore all thre
By him that made bothe erthe & heuene:
"Thei scholde hem saue, thoow ther were suche seuene";
And ther-to her trewthes thei plyght.
And he hem treuly be-hight
That he wolde couenande holde
To be-traye Troye, that Cite bolde,
For-whi that thei [hit] holde priue,
That non it wiste but thei & he.
NOw hath this traytour be-trayed Troye,—
These kynges maken moche Ioye,—
For him & Eueas it is solde.
God wolde it were the burgeis tolde!
For he wolde his tresoun hide:
He bad a kyng scholde with him ride
In-to the toun out of the feld,
Taltibeus, a kyng of eld;
And that thei myght credence of him ȝeue
And the more him leue.
¶ He asked eke for curtesye
Ȝeue him the quene Pantasalye,
That thei myght that cors entere.
But that with-sayde alle that were there,
For thei hir hated In certayn;
For afftir thei graunted [hit] withMS. with him. payn.
¶ He toke his leue & went his way,
And Taltibyus with him parfay;
And thei of Troye opened the ȝatis,
And thei rode In ful faire al-gatis
And sente the kyng word of her come,
And rod forth vn-to him home.
THe morwe afftir the kyng did sende
Afftir his burgeis gode & hende,
Alle that euere were In the toun.
When thei were come, thei sete doun;
He bad Antenor by his Omage:
"How he hadde sped In his message,
That he scholde ther seysey inserted by another hand over line. In presence
And In here alther Audience."
¶ The fals traytour—the deuel him cheke!—
To hem gan he sclely speke,
He schewed to hem but flaterye,
For he wolde hele his traytourie,
But tolde a prologe mochel & long;
He seide: 'gode men, the Grues are strong,
Off gret power and wasselage,
Off curtesie & gret parage
Off kynges & lordes & of her men lege,
Longe y-now to holde the sege,
Hardy y-now to fyght & bekir,
Knyghtes trewe & wondir sekir.
¶ By-holdes now a-boute & loke:
Thei breke neuere trewes that euere thei toke;
And we are so dryuen to noght,
Al to wrecches we are broght,
To care & wo & mochel sorwe,
Night & day, euen & morwe.
Wherfore, gode men, hit were wisdam
That ȝe consayl amonges ȝow nam:
By what way that ȝoure wayment
Might come to ende & best be ent?
¶ But therto certis schal ȝe not come
With-oute tresor a gret somme:
I rede euery man bothe more & lesse
That is of myȝt and of richesse,
And specially vnto oure kyng,
That he be helpande vn-to this thyng;
For we no-wyse In pes may be.
With-oute tresor gret quantite.
For better is vs oure gode for-go
Thanne euere to leue In noye & wo!'
Lo! how slely he hem blente
With his sleyght & his Argument!
¶ Then did the traytour more quayntise,
For he wolde In no wyse
His ffals tresoun that thei perceyue,
And for he wolde hem clene disceyue;
He sayde also In that throwe:
'The Gregais wil may I not knowe;
I rede that Eueas with me wende
To brynge this thyng better to ende.'
¶ The Troyens alle his sawe alowed,
Thei seyde: "he scholde be wele aprowed
By Eueasu might be n; cf. note to l. 17489.—so haue thei reste!;—
That he with ȝede that was beste."
Wherfore thei Iugged euerychone
That thei two to Grues scholde gone.
THei haue now done her parlement,
And alle the lordes benben inserted over line by the same hand, hom crossed out before it, and repeated behind it. hom went,
Priamus, the Troyane kyng,
In-to his Chambre goth wepyng,
He scrat his hede & tare his heer,
Out of his eyen fel many a teer;
He saw wele here sotilnesse,
Here ffalshede, & her lithernesse,
He cursed that tyme that he was born,
So doghty sones as he hadde lorn!
"And now to leue of her batayle,
Most he ȝeue al his catayle
That he hadde geten by olde dayes!
And ende his lyff In gret affrayes";—
'Wolde god I were now certayn
To haue my lyff & be not sclayn!
Ȝet wolde I thanne haue some Ioye.
But er y trowe the toun of Troye
Schal be by-traied & go to pyne,
And I schal dye & alle myne.'
ANtenor and fals Eueasu might be n; cf. note to 17489.—
Se thei neuere god In the fas!—
Thei are bothe went to hem of Grece,
To saue her bodyes & here fece,
And priueli to traye the toun,
To brenne Ylioun & caste it doun.
When thei hadde spoken a ful gode while
How thei myght Troyens best by-gyle,
¶ The Gregais bad "that Vlixes
And his felawe Diomedes
With Antenor and his comperes
To Troye scholde wende alle In-feres,
To wite of hem what thei wolde ȝeue
That thei scholde hem no lenger greue,
And for to telle hem what thei craue
Iff thei scholde hem let pes haue."
Thei ȝede alle forth here way snel
To the toun with-oute dwel;
¶ To Priamus when thei were comen,
He did his men as sone somen
Bidde his lordis & his burgeis,
To-morwe to come to his paleis.
When thei were comen & al dounMS. aldoun. set
And thei were alle to-gedir y-met,
Vlixes stode & tolde his erande:
'This thyng may not be wernade;
Iff ȝe wil haue the sauȝtlyng,
Ȝe most graunte her askyng.'
¶ He saide: 'the Grues asken thynges two:
That on is that ȝe most do
Out of this toun & this Ile
Amphimacus vntil exile,
That he come neuere a-ȝeyn on lyue';—
And this the Troyens graunte blyue;—
¶ 'That other is that ȝe do fet—
For to ȝeue hem to here profet—
Off gold & corn so gret porcioun
Vnto here a[l]ther reffeccioun,
That euery a man haue so gode store
To haue y-now for euere more.'
GRet meruayle among hem alle
In his spekyng fel In that halle:
A wonder noyse amonges hem thore
Was tho y-herd of hem that wore.
What that myȝt be thei were ameruayled;
The kynges wende men hadde hem assayled;
Some men wende the noyce thei herde
Hadde ben the kynges childres so ferde
For her brother Amphimacus,
For herMS. his. fadir Priamus
And for herMS. his. brother schulde be exiled,
With Antenor that so was be-gyled.
¶ Eche man loked what hit was,
But ther was non In al that plas
Ne in that hye Cite
That coude wete what it myȝt be,
Ne whethen that it come, ne how.
Eueryche a lord hamward hem drow,
¶ Hic Antenor narrauit Regibus Grecorum de reliqu[i]o Palladij.
And ent here consayl tho alle sone,
And went home when thei hadde done.
ANtenor him hamward spedde,
The kynges two with him ledde
In-to a wondir priue place,
Ther thei to speke hadde good space.
¶ To Antenor seyde Vlixes
That sat by him vpon the des:
'I haue meruayle whi thow delayes
These thynges for vs so many dayes,
That thow ne brynges hit to no purpos.
Loke that thow vs no-thyng glos
And brynge vs slely In a bek,
For thow brynges hit to non affek.'
¶ Antenor swor & sayde "nay,
Bothe he & Eueas nyȝt and day,
So helpe him god"—'we were ther-aboute';—
"But onMS. no. thing broght hem In doute";—
'I wol ȝow telle, what thing hit is
That bryngis vs In gret gastnes:
¶ The sothe is this: that kyng Ylus,—
As oure bokes telles vs,—
A worthi knyȝt, a kyng Troyen,
Off long tyme and AncienMS. Amycien; cf. l. 17238.,
That Ilyon did sette & dyght—
And Ilyon afftir him hit hight,— —
With-Inne this toun this kyng did make
For her goddis Pallus sake
A riche temple, fair & long,
Brod & wide & wonder strong.
¶ When it was made al, aboute the roue
That scholde be set the temple aboue
A wonder thing out of the sky
Off goddis grace fel fro an hy,
That did the harde wow cleueMS. clene. & bende
Ryght at the hye-auter ende;
And In the wow him-selff hit sette,
As faste as hit were ȝette
With sement or with any glewe,
That no man may hit thenne remeweThe second e altered to o in MS.
Saue the prestes that hit kepe,
Be thei wakyng or a-slepe,—
And thei hit kepe & al dayMS. alday. se.
Men say that hit is most of tre,
¶ But "what tre" can no man knowe
Off alle the kernesMS. kerues. that it owe,
Ne what forme, ne what hewe;
But hit is thyng of suche vertue:
The while hit is the toun with-Inne,
May non the toun with tresoun wynne.
¶ Palladin that thing called is
Afftir Pallas—the sothe hit is;—
Fro hir It come also, I wene.
Now haue I told ȝow al be dene—
So helpe me god & my long way!
That maketh al oure let & oure delay.'
DIomedes thanne answered:
'Sithen we ther-with so moche are deredMS. dared.
That hit one the toun may saue,
That we ne may by no way haue
For no thyng that may be-falle,
The while hit is with-Inne the walle—
¶ Then thenkes me, sir, witterly,
That we do alle a gret foly
That we do noght with-oute fayle,
But lese oure speche & oure trauayle.'
Antenor seyde: 'by heuene kyng!
Iff ȝe haue wonder of oure tarying,
This is the cause & the resoun
And alle the verray enchesoun,
That ȝe & we are thus delayed.
But al this while haue I assayed,
And offte haue I be-soght the prest
That kepis this thyng & hit is next,
And haue by-het him gret tresour
To haue certis for his labour—
¶ And so haue I the prest be-soght,
That In certayn haue I him broght
That he som nyght schal go with me
For gret tresor & mychel fe,
And then schal I sende to ȝow
And ende this thing to ȝoure prow.'
And thanne thei partid & toke her leue;
That god him ȝeue an euel preue!
NOw haue thei lefft alle her tales,
And the kynges gon to her sales.
And Antenor anon he wente
To Priamus that he hadde blente;
He bad him anon sende vp & doun
To alle the burgeis of the toun
That were with-Inne the Cite ȝatis,
That thei scholde come to him al-gatis.
¶ And whan thei herde of this tydandes,
Is non that lenger sittis ne standes,
That thei ne ȝede alle or rode
To his Palais with-oute abode:
When thei were comen & set on rowe,
Echon by other—as hem owe,—
Antenor ros & seyde: 'lordyngis!
I wol telle ȝow of oure spekyngis,
What the Grues & I haue spokyn,
What thei wol haue, or elles be wroken.
This is the somme that Gregays aske,
That thei wole haue vnto her taske:
Ten hundrid thousand pound of golde;—
Ther is no man is maked of molde
That may ther-of vs alegge,
For thei wol not ther-of abregge;—
And as moche of siluer bryghtee added afterwards.
Ȝe mot hem ȝeue with-oute respite;
An hundrid charge also of whete.
And tho bad thei me with hem trete,
¶ For sicurly thei wol no lasse.
Therfore, gode menMS. godemen., if [be] ȝoure ese
To haue the lyff & fle the ded,
Than is this forsothe my red:
That ȝe ȝeue hem this two her wage
And let go caste a taylage
A-mong the riche & the pore,—
To pese her wratthe for euere more,—
And gadir hit faste on gret hepis,
For thei wol haue shippes ȝepis.'
NOw is the taylage cast & layde,
That somme was sone y-puruayde,
The while it was In gaderyng.
Antenor, that lyther thyng,
Spake to the prest of the lawe
That what with ȝefftis & with awe,
What for drede, what for mede,
That he the prest so ouer ȝede,
That he bad him at euen come,
And he scholde haue Palladone.
¶ Antenor come thenne on a nyght,
And that prest, that wicked wyght,
Ȝaff him that relike that was so riche,—
In al Assye was ther non liche;
And he sende it to Vlixes,
And to his felawe Diomedes.
The Troyens gadered the gold & corn
Erly at euen and on morn;
Thei leyde that good & that fee
In the temple of Menerue.
¶ Then seyde the riche Citesenes
And alle these other pore Troyenes,
That thei wolde make a sacrifice
To her godis of gret aprice,
To thanke hem of grace that thei sende
That her batayle is thus at ende.
THei broght tho many boles & bores,
With lowyng & with loude rores;
But ther be-tydde tho two miracles
That were to hem gret obstacles:
When be-fore the Auteres were layd the bestis,—
As was that tyme that lawe hestis—
That were doun come thedir, & renne
To sette In fir, and do hit brenne,
Thei did brynge the kiddis drye—
For hit scholde brenne clere & hye,—
And colis also In bollis & wyndel:
Thei myght no fir make ther-on kyndel,
For noght that thei coude blowe
Not ones sette hit on a lowe.
¶ The Troyens were tho vn-blythe,
Thei tende hire fir more than ten sithe,
But it ȝede out by on & on,
That sacrifice myght thei make non.
¶ That other wonder, gode men, y-wis
That hem be-fel that tyme, was this:
Ther come fleynge that tyme an Erne
Vn-to the temple, fleande sterne,
And al the entrayle, as hit lay
Off her bestis, bare he hit a-way;
Be-twene here clauwes sche hem kyppis,
And beres hem to the Gregais schippis.
Alle the Troyens that ther wore,
Off this two thinges abaist hem sore,
For thei se by here tokenynges bothe
That here godis with hem were wrothe;
But whi it was, wiste thei neuere,
But alle ther-of affrayed were.
THe Gregais were slely by-thoght,
A wonder werk hadde thei wroght:
Thei did make an hors of bras,
Suche a-nother neuere sene was;
A thousand knyghtes myght ther-Inne;
Ther-on was many a selcouthe gynne:
Dores brode that opened wyde,
A thousand men ther myght a-byde,
But no man was of eye so bryght
That myght with-oute of hem se sight.
¶ The kynges alle that comen wore
To Priamus to socoure thore,
When hit was done hem to vndirstonde
That Priamus so foule a couenande
Hadde mad to Grues to ben at one,
Thei toke her leue at him echone,
To wende hom to her contrese,
And leffte him ther, & hem of Grece.
¶ Kyng Philomene had two thousand knyghtes
That come with him, thei worthi wyghtes
Ledde hem aȝeyn to his lande
But two hundrid & ffyffti of hem lyuande;
He ledde with him Pantasalye,
The worthi body of that ladye,
¶ Hic rogauit ad pacem & concordiam.
And foure hundrid of damyseles
That lyued afftir that turpeles,
Vn-to the land of Amazone,
To berye hir ther sche bar croune.
HIt was a day, that lyther fende,
Antenor, wolde his tresoun ende,
Whan Palladin was y-stolne;
And ȝit was hit fro Troyens holne;
And thei of Grece her hors hadde ent.
To sette a day was here entent,
That Priamus & his Troyanes,
Alle the Grues & the Danes,
With-oute the toun, opoun the wolde,
Be-twene hem that loueday schal holde.
¶ Priamus is comen oute,
And mechel folk him aboute;
And thei of Grece sicurly,
Lordes & kynges ther redi.
Thei did the relikes brynge,
Her messe-bok that thei on synge,
Here saynteuariusMS. sayntenarius. with al her gere,
That bothe the parties on scholde swere.
¶ Diomedes was ffurst that swore,
And made his othe vpon the flore;
He swor by al here sayntwaries,
And by him that al this world gyes,
Off heuene & erthe al-myghti god:
That he scholde neuere, for euene ne od,
Breke the couenandes that he made
With Antenor, so worth he glade.
¶ And so swor alle these other kynges
That were of Grece gret lordynges.
Off thai that toun afftir did for-lorn,
Ȝit thei seyde thei were not for-sworn,
For thei swore bothe to traye the toun
With-oute mercy or any pardoun.
But Priamus & alle hyes
Made her othe on an-other wyes:
¶ Thei swor to holde the pees treuly,
With-oute desert, parfitly;
Thei were ther-with foule by-gyled
And afftirward foule dispoyled,
For thei wiste not of here fallas;
Therfore here lyff thei lore, allas!
WHan thei hadde sworn & mad surte,
Kyng Priamus with herte fre
Made men go afftir quene Helayne;
And he ȝaff hem that lady aȝeyne,
And prayed hem for his loue sake:
That sche of hem non harm scholde take,
Vilony, ne no maugre,
For that sche was In that contre;
And thei seyde "nay" with ficul thoght.
But Priamus thei hadde be-soght:
"That he wol graunte hem alle a bone,
That for here loue it myght be done."
¶ Thei saide: "thei hadde an hors done make
For her godes Pallas sake,
For that thei stale out of here chirche
PalladineOr Palladium? MS. . . .in or . . . iu., whan it was derke;"—
'And we are ferd alle for hir vengaunce;
Hit is therfore oure ordinaunce,
In hir cherche-ȝerd to do hit sette
An hors of bras that we haue gette
In hir honour—we telle it ȝow—
For that is, sir, oure alther a-vow.
¶ We praye ȝow therfore: werne vs not
That it may now to hir be broght.'
Priamus stode as he were dased,
He was for meruayle al a-mased,
When he herde the Gregays say
That thei that relike hadde away;
He hadde meruayle how hit myght be,
Who hadde done him that blynde bounte?
But sicurly the blame was layde
On Vlixes, for it was seyde
"That he stale hit with Nigramancye,
Fo[r] he was connynge of gret fayrye."
PRyamus stode as stille as ston,
Word to hem spake he non,
He Answered not to here askyng,
Better ne wors, ne non skynnes thyng.
But Antenor & Eueas
That bothe were ther In that plas,
Thei seide: "It was wel to do,
Thei did the toun a worschepe tho,
It was a presaunt fair & hende
Vn-to the toun with-outen ende."
¶ Priamus graunt hem tho her wille,
For he saw nede he moste ther-tille.
The Gregeis thanne, bothe gret & smale
And alle that dwelled In tent & hale,
Ȝede with gret processioun
And with mochel deuoc[i]oun
This brasen hors for to hale
Ouer doune & ouer dale;
Thei drow hit ouer leye & falowe,
To offer hit to that carful halowe.
¶ When thei were comen to Troye ȝate,
Tho wolde it not In ther-ate:
Hit was so brod, gret, and hye,
It myght not In ther sicurly.
Tho most thei the walles breke,
Iff that hors scholde ther-In reke;
Thei breke ther-of a gret pece
Off brede, of heyghte, that thei of Grece
That her hors thei myght In-drawe;
The Troyens lowe, whan thei it sawe.
¶ Thei halpe hit In with mochel sang,
Sicurly tho did thei wrang
To make ther-fore Ioye & play,
Hem oght better sey: "waylaway!
That euere it come with-Inne the diches!"
But euery a Troyen now it lykes,
But hit schal turne to mochel care
To alle the Troyens that ther ware.
THe hors is now with-Inne the toun.
Ther was a knyght that het Symoun
That thei of Grece hadde put ther-In,
A worthi knyȝt of gentil kyn;
A thousand knyghtes were put with himThe order in MS. is 18139, 18138.
And was charged on lyff and lym
That thei scholde holde hem stille & coy,
That thei perceyued not of Troy;
Til hit be wele with-Inne the nyght,
That thei of Troye to bedde be dyght.
¶ Thei bad thanne his dores vn-do
And come than out, & his also,
And of stre gete him a wase
And make on the walles ther-of a blase,
That thei myght wele & worldly kenne
By that fir that so scholde brenne,
Whan thei scholde come In that euenyng,
And knowe also by that tokenyng,
When thei of Troye were alle on slepe
That thei ȝaff to hem no kepe,
¶ Hic Greci receperunt pecuniam.
That thei myght sle hem In her bed,
That thei no wise fro hem fled.
¶ The Gregeis asked thanne her fret,
The somme of corn that hem was het,
The somme of siluer & of gold
That thei of hem haue schold;
Priamus baddeMS. hadde. tho his meygne
That it scholde quyk delyuered be.
The Gregais toke that riche tresore
And drowe it alle with-oute dore
Off the temple of Menerue,
And by her men sende hom that fe
Vn-to her tentis & Pauylons,
To dele amonges the riche Gryffons;
The corn bare thei vnto the see
And charged ther-with alle her nauee.
And when thei hadde al this ent,
To Priamus thei message sent
And seyde "that thei wolde hamward wende
Out of his lond vnto here frende";
He bad hem "go In godis name
And god schilde hem fro schame!"
THei losed bothe Anker & cordes,¶ Hic Greci vadunt ad Mare.
And drow vp tentis of kynges & lordes,
Thei gone to schippes & to bote
That longe hadde stonden ther In flote;
Thei drow here sayles that alle myght se
That were In Troye, that riche Cite.
Thei were wel fayn when thei saw go
That hadde done hem so mochel wo,
Thei wende thei hadde ben al quyt;
But hem scholde falle gret wo ȝit,
For thei schal dye In gret affray,
Twenti thousand, er hit be day.
¶ Hic Greci exierunt de Caballo & occiderunt Troianos.
¶ Pryamus wendes to Ilioun,
And Gregais sayles to Thenedoun;
The wynd is swyfft, the schippis dryued,
At Thenadoun were thei aryued;
Er the sonne was go to reste,
Thei hadde souped of the beste,
With mochel murthe, play, & Ioye,
For thei were siker tho of Troye.
HIt is forth nyghtes, the sterres ben rysen,
The sely caytyues Troyens not wysen,
Thei ȝede to sclepe alle In bedde,
Off no-thing were thei a-dredde;
Thei wende thei hadde ben saue & sure,
With-oute dissait or foule aventure.
¶ The knyghtes that were In that hors stopped,
Thei were nother mased ne mopped;
When Troyens were In bed on sclepe,
Out of the hors echon thei crepe,
Thei gete than a gret wase,
Opon the walles thei made a blase:
Alle the Gregeis tho come to toun
And ther thei hadde the wal cast doun
That day be-fore, a wel gret gappe,
Thei come alle In to gret vn-happe.
¶ Thei brast vp dores with Iren y-bounde,
Thei sclow al that thei ther founde,
Man & womman & also childe,
Stoute & sterne, meke and mylde,
Wiff & mayden, ȝong & old;
On lyue wolde thei non hold.
Thei hadde no mercy ne no pite
Off ȝongeMS. ȝouge. children, ne ladijs fre;
Thei robbed & rafft alle that thei founde,
To lede with hem In-to her londe.
Mochel blod that nyght thei schedde,
It was no wonder of thei dredde,
To crye mercy was hem no bote,
Thoow thei fellen vnto here fote;
The cry was gret & fer herd
Off hem that thus to dethe ferd.
PRyamus herde In-to his toure
That delful noyse & clamoure,
He was sori & eke a-baist,
He wiste wele thanne he was be-traist
With Antenor and Eueas;
Gret was the sorwe that he thanne mas:
Out of his bed anon he ros
And to his temple faste he gos
By-fore his god Appolynes,
Thedir he dight him faste y-wys;
By-fore his god vpon the grees
He sette him doun onon inserted over line. his knees,
His deth bodily to a-byde;
For he ne myght him fro hem hide,
For he was man with-oute drede—
In eche a romaunce as I rede.—
¶ Temple & chirche, boure and halle,
The Gregeis dispoyled and robbed alle;
The riche vessel of gold y-wroght,
Off siluer also, for-ȝate thei noght.
Prest, ne clerk, ne sextayn
Leffte the Gregais non vn-sclayn;
Twenti thosand Citeseyns,
Off knyghtes & lordis, gode Troiens,
Were sclayn ther, er day spronge,
With hidous cry & sorwe stronge.
¶ The kynges doghter, wise Cassandre,
Sche nyst In erthe whedir to wandre,
But at the laste alone fled sche
In-to the temple of Menerue,
And seide wel offte: 'alas, alas!
That euere that fight be-gonne was!'
¶ Ector wyff, dame Andromede,
Sche ran faste fro strete to strete
With hir two children In hir armes;
For drede of here gret harmes
Sche nyste In erthe whedir to fare,
But as scho ran, so was sche ware
Where Cassandre be-fore hir ȝede
In-to the temple with gode spede,
And sche afftir hir gan go
In-to the temple with mechel wo.
Mechel was the sorwe thei two made,
Ther was no thyng that hem myght glade.
TOward the day faste it drawes,
The nyght is gon, the day dawes;
Antenor and Eueas—
In helle thei wone with Sathanas!—
Thai ledde tho sir Pirrus
To the Castel of Priamus.
Whan Pirrus with the Gregais
Was y-comen to that Palais,
Thei brast vp dores with gret engyn,
And afftirward thei wente In.
¶ Alle that thei fond doun thei sclow
With-oute mercy, with sorwe y-now;
Many a curtais ladi swete
In that Palais to dethe thai bete
That comen were of hye lynage,
Off kynges blod In mariage;
Thei lefft nother lowe ne hye.
Thei robbed al his tresor that thei sye;
¶ Hic ffugarunt bona palacii Regis.
Thei smot alle that for-set,
Halle, & boure, & hye toret.
¶ Pirrus soght afftir the kyng,
Fro hous to hous, In his byggyng;
And afftir that to the temple he ran,
And ther fond he that carful man:
Pirrus tho was glad y-now,
His swerd sone out he drow
And al to-hewe him euery bone,¶ Rex occi|ditur.
Ryght be-fore the auter-stone,
That al the Auter was al by-bled
With his blod that ther was sched.
HEctuba, that louely quene,
And hir doghter Pollexene,
Thei were so frayed & ferd,¶ Regina
That thei ran out of that ȝerd;¶ ffugit.
Thei were aferd the Gregais to mete,
Thei ran aboute fro strete to strete.
As thei ran, wiste thei not whedir,
Thei mette Eueas bothe to-gedir:
¶ When Hectuba on him hath sight,
Sche myssayde him anon right,
Off tresoun sche him sone vmbraide:
'Fals traytour!'—to him sche sayde,—
'How myght thow, for soule synne,
So ffals a tresoun to be-gynne?
How myght thow In thi fals herte fynde,
Fals traytour, to be so vnkynde
To do thi lord suche schenschip,
That hadde done alle thi worschip?
¶ He ȝaff the his doghter to wyue
Be-ffore alle men that were on lyue,
He worschepid the & loued the ay,
In the was al his trust & ffay,
And thow hast made him sclayn & hise
For his godenesse & ffraunchise!
How myght thow, man, this tresoun thenke,
For ferd In helle leste thow synke?
But sithen thow hast doneMS. dou. al this wrake,
Do on me mercy for goddis sake,
That thow myght take sum merite:
Saue vs two to-day fro dispite
Fro alle Gregais on godis name,
That thei do vs two no schame!'
¶ Eueas hadde of hir pite,
He seyde: 'comes bothe & folewes me!'
He ledde hem to an old place,
An old tour that for-saken was
Off long tyme, that hadde ben wast;
He hyed hem with mechel hast
For drede lest thei were y-wraied,
And lefft hem there sore affrayed.
¶ As thei the toun thus a-boght soght,
Ayax Thelamenyus was broght
In-to the temple of Menerue,
With many Gregais comen is he:
Ther fond he sitte Ector wyff
That was ful sori of hir lyff,
And wise Cassandre that mochel was worth;
He broght hem bothe to-gedir forth,
The ladyes bothe with him he ledde
Ful sore wepyng & sore a-dredde.
Kyng Priamus is ded & sclayn,
Lord & lady, knyght & swayn,
And al that euere In Ilyon was,
By these fals traytoures compas,
By Antenor and Eueas;
In helle mot be her wonyng-plas!
¶ Hic villa Troiani destruitur.
¶ When thei had sclayn al that ther wore,
Ȝit wolde thei do malice more:
Thei caste al doun thes worthi wones,
Led & tyle, sclat & stones,
Halles, Chamberes, & toures,
Vowes, walles, & alle her boures;
The glorious halle so richely dyght
Thei threwe it doun In gret dispit;
¶ The Pilers pight with marbil gray
Thei pulled doun & caste a-way,
Thei caste doun chambres hye & base.
Tho by-gan many a blase
To sette fir on that Cite,
That many a myle men myght hit se.
The toures brennen, the reke vp ros,
The toun of tounes to noght gos;
The sparkes sprongen In-to the aire,
Thei brenned the schireues & the mayre
And eche a lordes riche tenement,
Til al the toun was lorn & brent;
¶ Alle saue the traytoures mansions
And alle her kynnes possessions
That the toun so foule be-swyked,—
For on her houses thei hadde stiked
Certayn signes that wele were knowen;
Thei were not therfore ouer-throwen,
As couenand was be-twixen hem ent,
Therfore her houses was not brent.
TRoye is doune & ouer-throwen,
Tour & bour, walle & wowen;
Thei are alle dede & foule schent,
And the toun is doune & brent.
¶ AgamenounMS. . . . on. did do then crye,
That euery a kyng scholde hem hye
¶ Hic partita sunt bona inter Reges.
In-to the temple of Menerue,
And euery a lord with his meyne;
And brynge with hem al that thei wan
With-Inne the toun of any man,
To dele as best wolde by-falle
In comune sight be-fore hem alle.
And thei did alle as he hem bad,
Thei broght with hem that thei had;
And so was hit deled verament
By gode resoun & Iugement
To euery a lord & knyght
Afftir his state & his myght.
AGamenoun, here Emperour,¶ Hic Agamenon petit Cassandram pro labore suoOn the left side in MS..
By-soght hem, for his labour
For to ȝeue him to his mede,
For al his trauayle & his dele,
The kynges doghter, Cassandre the wyse,
That sche myght be on of hise.
¶ The tonge of no man may telle,
What godis to euery lord felle;
For sicur ther ne was no kyng,
That he ne hadde as moche thing
Off riche gold & precious stones
To lede with hem to her wones,
As thei wolde desire & haue
Or with her tonge on any wyse craue;
And so hadde dukes & eke knyȝtes,
Sqwyeres, ȝemen, & other wyghtes.
¶ Here schippes myght not lede her tresour
That euery man hadde for his labour,
And ȝit thei lefft mochel more,
Gold, & siluer, & other tresore,
That no man wolde hond ther-on set,
Ne here schippes no more ffret,
For thei hadde filled bothe schip & barge
Al the while thei durst hem charge.
ANtenor & Eueas
Be-soght the lordes of her grace:
"To graunte Heleyne hir lyff
And Andromede, Ectoris wyff,
For thei hadde ben al-weys
To hem bothe hende & curteys;"
'And whan Paris hadde Achilles sclayn
And let him ligge so foule be-sclayn
In-myddes the strete to rauen & rokes,—
Scholde haue to-drawen him with her crokes,—
¶ These two ffor him thei be-soght
That he myght to burieles be broght.
Wherfore it is worthi,
That ȝe here lyues to hem graunty.'
The kynges it graunt by comune assent,
And seyde it was gode Iugement.
HeleyneMS. Helenus. & Andromede
Bede tho alle those lordes swete
Off here mercy and thaire good wille,
That thei wolde not hir children spille.
¶ The kynges hadde of hem gret ruthe,
Thei swor alle by her treuthe
That thei scholde hem non harm do;
And thus saued thei the childryn two:
And sithen was on a kyng In Grece,
Off riche londes & riche fece,
Off alle the londes kyng Pirrus
And of the londes of kyng Pelleus.
¶ Thei ordeyned a-monges hem as blyue,
That alle that were lefft on lyue
Off ladyes, comen of genterye,
With-oute schame or vylonye
Scholde go & come & no-thing lese,
Or dwelle ther stille, whether thei wolde chese.
¶ Thei ordeyned also thei wolde hom wende,
Euery man vnto his frende.
But that myght not that tyme be
For gret tempest on the see;
Thei dwelled so ther alle to-gedir
A ful Monethe for that euel wedir,
Thei were echon ther-of euel tened,
Thei asked Calcas: "what it be-mened
That thei no wyse the see myght pas
In-to here londes, as here wille was?"
¶ That gret Clerk Calcas tho seyde:
'For thei of helle are with ȝow euel payde;
It is the wodenesse'—he sayde—'of helle
That makes vs here so longe dwelle,
For ȝe forsothe haue venged noght
Achilles deth, as ȝe wel oght;
Ȝit haue ȝe lefft on lyue & vn-tane
Sche that was Achilles bane,—
And yff ȝe wol passe of londe,
Off hir ȝe mot make him offrande
For sicur: but sche to dethe gange,
Ȝe may dwelle here wel lange.'
PIrrus was of this an-yred,
Afftir Pollexene he enspired
And asked what was of hir be-tyd;
He seide for-sothe that sche was hid,
For sche was nowher ded ne tane,
And al men wiste, that sche was wane;
And al that ost seyde sicurly,
That sche was lyuande witterly.
¶ The kynges alle were wroth ther-fore
And sent afftir sir Antenore,
And asked at him: "where sche was done?"
Thei bad "that he scholde telle sone,
Where thei hadde hid Dame Pollexene
And Hectuba, the qwene?"
¶ He swor by god & by his face:
"That he ne wiste where sche wace;
He wyst neuere, where thei were be-comen
Sithen the tyme that thei were y-nomen."
But thei bare him stiffly an hande,
That he wiste where thei were dwellande.
ANtenor was sore a-greued
That the Gregais him not leued,
He sette his wit and al his tent
To wete than where the ladies lent.
So longe he soght fro day to day,
Strete by strete, & way be way,
And sente a-boute oueral his sonde,
That at the laste thei hem fonde:
Bothe were In a depe bour,
That was vnder an old tour.
¶ When he of hir hadde a sight,
He drow out thanne that worthi wyght,
And to AgamenounThe MS. has ou very distinctly here, not on. with hir he wente
And made to him of hir a presente;
And he sent hir to sir Pirrus,
That of hir comyng was Ioyus.
¶ Pollexene is taken & founden,
As a theff thei haue hir bounden:
Pirrus bad "sche scholde be sent
To his ffadres monument,
For he wolde that sche scholde haue
Hir deth vpon his fader graue."
Thei ledde hir forth by the hand
To hir deth, wel sore wepand.
¶ The kynges of Grece herd say
"That thei hadde take that worthi may
Thorow Calcas the prestes rede,
And that thei haue hir to the dede";
The kynges ran hir to se,
And alle that other comunalte.
¶ When thei saw hir, thei seyde: "alas!
That suche a ladi as sche was
Off schap, of hede, & of bewte,
Scholde so vile ther ded be
With-oute desert or any gilt,
That suche a bodi scholde be spilt."
Many a lord & many a kyng
Wepe wel so[re] for that swetyng.
BE-fore that tombe that mayden stondesThe abbreviations here are not ꝭ, but ʅ.,
Wryngyng bother hir white hondesThe abbreviations here are not ꝭ, but ʅ.,
Wel reufully that lady gretis,
That al hir brest that water wetis.
Sche seide: 'lordynges, by god al-myght!
Ȝe do me scle with mochel vn-right!
For—by that god that maked pes!—
Off that knyghtes deth am I giltles;
For I was neuere occasioun
Off his dethe ne enchesoun,
Ne neuere ȝit was at that assent
That he that tyme to dethe went;
¶ But Angured me sore of his schedyng,—
So helpe me god at myn endyng!
Not-for-thi theIn the MS. to is crossed out here, and the inserted over line. deth I ne drede,
Thus carefully, so Crist me spede!
For me is leuere In my contre
Be sclayn In my virginite,
That I falle not In ȝoure handis,
ÞanÞan inserted by another hand to the left, And being crossed out. go with ȝow In-to ȝoure landis
¶ Hic Pirrus Interfecit Pollexenam.
And be ther defouled & for-layn
With ȝow that haue my fader sclayn.
Lette come the deth when ȝe wille,
For I am redi now ther-tille!'
¶ Pirrus thanne his swerd out-drow
And that ladi sone he sclow,
And hewe to gobetis al hir flesch,
And with hir blod the tombe wesch.
When Hectuba, that gentil quene,
Saw ded hir doghter Pollexene,
And saw hir spraulen In hir blode,
¶ The quene for-sothe wex ner wode,
And felde men with stones & smot,
And as an hound hem gnow & bot,
And tare here clothes & on hem spit,—
So was sche wode & out of wit.
When thei saw hir for wode so wilde,
Thei did lede hir to an Ilde¶ Hic Regina mortua est.
With-oute the toun—het Aulidis,—
And stoned hir to dethe y-wis.
¶ And made ther a tombe fair & hye,
And leyde ther-Inne that quenes bodye;
That standes ȝit vnto this day,
As sais tho men that wenden that way;
And beres that stede ȝit the name,
That thei for hir ȝaff the name.
THe quene is ded by these traytours falsMS. has a small cross at this place; cf. note on p. 548.,
And Pollexene, hir doghter, als,
And alle hir sones that oght were worth
Are sclayn & dede & passed forth;
And Priamus, hir lord, the kyng,
Is ded also, & his hous gyng;
He is ded and his kynred,
And alle his frendis & his manred;
Is non on lyue lyuande ffre
Saue thes traytours & her meyne.
¶ And ȝit afftirward hit schop so
That the traytoures bothe two
For here ffalsnesse were afftir demed
To be exiled & afftir flemed—
With al here kyn & here lynage—
For her wickednesse & her outrage;
Afftir the Gregais were I-went,
Wel foule were thei afftir schent.
¶ But al the while that thei were thare,
Thei did the Cite moche care
And halp the Gregeis to distroye
And alle the folk foule annoye.
NOw ben the Grues wonder bolde
And bene alle lordes,—as I ȝow tolde;—
And al this is at here wille
That thei wolde haue, bothe loude & stille.
Agamenoun let crye
Thorow alle that companye,
In tour & toun, by way & strete:
"That no man scholde for no man lete,
That thei alle at morwe be tyme,
Be-twix sonne risyng & the prime,
Were al redi at here naue
To passe forth ouer the see,
With alle her godis & her thing
That thei wole to schipe bryngThe MS. has another small cross at this place; cf. note on p. 547.."
¶ The nyght was gon, the sonne a-ros,
Fro the lond the schippes gos;
With alle her meyne that with hem was
To schipe thei wente a gode pas,
And drow vp sayl to the top;
And sayled homward alle on a throp,
Euery lord to his contre,
With Ioye & blysse & mechel gle,
And tresour I-nowMS. I. now. for euere-mo:
Kyngis & knyghtes, & sqwyers also,
And alle other hadde gret store,
Gold & siluer for euere-more.
¶ And thus was Troye dryuen doun
And y-lore thorow strong tresoun,
And alle the gode lordis dede,—
As In this romaunce men may rede;
And thus the Grues were conquerours
And wel riche with here tresoures,
And hadde y-now for euere-more
Alle that at that batayle wore.
¶ And thus endis this strong batayle
That was of Troye saunfayle,
That dured ten ȝere euery day,—
As the romaunce ther-of doth say,—
Off Troye batayle, that fair cyte.
Now god that died vpon the tre,
That schede ther his swete blode
Opon that blisful croys, that rode,
For synful mannes saluacioun,
Graunt vs alle his benysoun,
Gode lyff and gode endyng,
A gode soule to heuene bryng,
And graunte vs of his swete grace
Ther-In to haue a swete place!
¶ And he that this romaunce wroght & made,
Lord In heuene, thow him glade,
And gode lyff In erthe to lede,
And heuene blysse vnto his mede;
And graunte hit mot so be!
Sayeth alle Amen, for charite!On lf. 275, bk. is written by the same hand the rubric: Hic Bellum de Troye ffinit Et Greci tran|sierunt versus Patriam suam. Some scribbling follows. See description of MS. in the Introduction.