[Cresus.]
This riche Cresus / whilom kyng of Lyde [¶ Cresus]
Of which Cresus / Cirus soore hym dradde
Yet was he caught/ amyddes al his pryde
And to be brent/ men to the fyr hym ladde
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But swich a reyn / doun fro the welkne shadde
That slow the fyr / and made hym to escape
But to be war / no grace yet he hadde
Til ffortune / on the galwes / made hym gape
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Whanne he escaped was / he kan nat stente
ffor to bigynne / a newe werre agayn
He wende wel / for þat ffortune hym sente
Swich hape / that he escaped thurgh the rayn
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That of hise foos / he myghte nat be slayn
And eek a sweuene / vp-on a nyght he mette
Of which / he was so proud / and eek so fayn
That in vengeance / he al his herte sette
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