The "Gest hystoriale" of the destruction of Troy: an alliterative romance tr. from Guido de Colonna's "Hystoria troiana." Now first ed. from the unique ms. in the Hunterian Museum, University of Glasgow, with introduction, notes, and a glossary, by ... Geo. A. Panton, and David Donaldson, esq.

The xxj Boke. Of the biij Batell: And of the Dreme of Ector wyffe.

Lengye here at a litill, lystyn my wordes, I shall tell you full tyte how hom tyde after, When thes dayes were done, & dryven to an ende, All þai fforen to þe fight, & the fild toke! Line 8424 Of Andromaca drem I dresse me to telle, How hir noyet in the night, er þai to note yode. As þis burde was in bed with hir blythe lorde, And slippit vpon slepe, slomeryng a while, Line 8428 Sho was affrayet full foule with a fuerse dreme, That she met of hir maister, & masit full euyll. At hir wakonyng ho wist, as the writ sayes, Iff the bold vnto batell busket þat day, Line 8432 He shuld doutles be dede, & drepit for euer! Andromaca for drede of her dreme felle, Miche water ho weppit, and wackont the prince. As þai bothe were in bed, þe burd to hym saide, Line 8436 And told hym by tale, as her tyde hade. Sho prayet the prinse with hir pure hert, ffor drede of hir drem, & deire þat might falle, On nowise in thys world the walles to passe, Line 8440 ffor to bowne vnto batell, ne of burghe wend. [folio 131a] Þan the worthy at his wife wrathet a litle, And blamyt the burde for hir bold speche. Hit was vnsittyng, he said, a sad man of wit, Line 8444

Line 8444 Any dremys to drede, or deme hom for trew, Syn þai feble are & faint, & falsly dissayuyn, And be-lirten yche lede, þat leuys þerapon. When the day vp droghe, & the derke voidet, Line 8448 The burd bownet fro bed, & of boure past: To his fader ho fore, & his fre moder. All ho told hom in tale, as her tyde hade, Besechis the souerain, with sykyng in hert, Line 8452 Hir lord for to let, for lure þat might happyn: On nowise þat he went, for wothe of his lyf!

When the sun vp set with his softe beames, All the batels of the burghe bownet to feld, Line 8456 Ordant of Ector efter his deuyse. Troiell, the triet knyght, toke the feld sone; Then Paris full prest put hym next aftur. Deffebus drogh furth with a derfe pepull; Line 8460 Eneas afturward auntred to feld. Polidamas, the proud knight, past on swithe; Then the fuerse kyng Forcius folowet anon; And Philmen, the freke, with a felle batell. Line 8464 Then all the kynges by course, þat comyn were to Troy, The citie to socour, with þere sute hoole, Passit furth fro Priam to þe playn feld, With leue of þe lord, þat the lond aght. Line 8468 Then Priam to þe prinse prestly can send, That he bownet to no batell, ne þe burgh past, On nowise in this world, for worship or other. Therat Ector was angry, & angardly wrothe, Line 8472 Repreuet the prinses with a pale face: With his worshipful wife wrathit hym þen. [folio 131b] Withouten leue of the lord, þat hym let wold, To his seruondes he saide in a sad haste, Line 8476 To bryng hym his bright geire, bownet to fild, And arayed for the rode with a ronke wille.

Than his wif was war of his wille sone, Myche watur ho weppit, wailyng for sorow. Line 8480 Two sonnes hade þat semly, with the sure prinse,— On Lamydon was litle, and his leue brother Astionac also, þat after was borne,— Þat were bothe at the brest of the bright norse, Line 8484 Noght put fro the pappe to no prise fode. The ton toke ho full tyte in hir true armys, To the fote of þat fre fell ho belyue: Hit was dole & deire, þat dere to be-hold! Line 8488 With myche wepyng & woo þes wordes ho said:— "A! my lord, & it like yow at this lefe tyme, I be-seche you, for my sake sober youre wille: Put of youre purpos, preses no fer, Line 8492 ffor all the loue in our lyue, þat light vs betwene!" He denyet hir anon: hir noy was the more. And sho braid with the barne to þe bare erthe, Vmbfoldyt his fete, felle vnto swone. Line 8496 And when ho wacknet of wo, thies wordes ho said:— "If ye no mercy haue on me, for mysse þat I thole, Haue pité on youre pure sonnes, þat mone payne thole! To be done to þe dethe with hor dere moder, Line 8500 Or be shot out with shame fro youre shene landes; Exiled for euermore endles to sorow, Pight vnder pouert and penaunce to lyue!" Then his moder the myld qwene, & his meke syster, Line 8504 Cassandra the clene, & clere Polexena, And honerable Elan also, with hom: Thies fellyn hym to fete with a foule chere,

Prayond the prinse (pitie was to se) Line 8508 To put of his pale wedis, & his pale entre; And abyde in the burgh to the bare night. He hade no ruthe of hor remyng, ne þe rank teris, [folio 132a] Ne þe prayer of þo prise persit not his hert; Line 8512 But past furth prudly his purpos to hold, And bounet toward batell, bode he no lengur. Þen Andromoca for dol drogh out of wit, Vne fore as a fole, fonnet at all; Line 8516 Past vnto Priam, þe prinsis aune fadur, With a rufull rore rent of hir clothis; Rafit þe red chekis roidly with hond, And þe hore of hir hede heterly pullit! Line 8520 So þat ffre with hir face fore at þe tyme, Þat all blod was þe bright in hir ble qwit: Ho was vnkyndly to knaw of hir kyd frendis. So disfigurt of face & febill of hew, Line 8524 To þe fete of þe fre kyng fel ho belyue, Besechond þat soueran, in a sad hast ffor to high to þat hynd, & hold hym within, Þat he fore not to fight, ne the fild toke! Line 8528 Than Priam in pure hast preset to horse, Lept vp full lyghtly, & the lede folowet: Ouertoke hym full tyte, taried hym þan, Raght to the reynes of his riche bridell: Line 8532 Vne wrothe in his wille weppit full sore, Comaundand þat comly, as his kynd fader, By all hor goddes so gret, & greuyng of hym, Þat he fare shuld ne ferre, ne the feld entre. Line 8536 At the last, þurgh the likyng of his lege kyng, And offence of his ffader, the freke agayne turnyt: Past euyn to his palais, & the place entrid. He wold put of no plate of his prise armur, Line 8540 But abode in the burgh in his bright wedis.

Then the batell was brem in the brode felde, Mony fell in the fight at the first tyme! Dyamede that duke, & the derfe Troilus, Line 8544 Evyn macchit hom to mete with two mayn speires: With all the bir in hor brest and hor byg horses, [folio 132b] So þai cast hom to caupe with a course felle, The ton hade doutles ben dede, & drepit for ay, Line 8548 Hade not Menelay mightyly met hom betwene, With a batell full big bere hom in sonder. He frunt to a fuerse kyng of frigies lond, A mon full of might, þat Meseron was cald: Line 8552 He had hym of horse, hyndward anon, And he was takon full [tite] & turnyt away. Polidamas, the prise knight, come prikond belyue With a folke þat was felle, & the fight entrid. Line 8556 He Reskewet the Renke, russhet vnfaire, And myche baret on bent to the buernes dyd: Þan the grekes agayne grippit the kyng, Wold haue [had] of his hede in a hast þere, Line 8560 But Troiell full tydely turnyt hom agaynes, Kyld doun þere knightes, and the kyng toke! He deliuert the lord, lete hym of hond; And fell of his foos fuersly þat tyme. Line 8564 Telemonius Aiax come angardly fast, With þre thowsaund þro men þrang into batell; Gird in with the grekes, & myche grym wroght, And mony tulke out of Troy tyrnit to ground. Line 8568 Þen þurghe chaunse of Achilles & his choise helpe, Þai bere the burgh-men abacke to the bare walles: Þai bounet fro batell, & the bent leuyt, ffled all in fere frikly to toune! Line 8572 Mageron the mighty macchet with Achilles,

Wold haue takon the talle kyng, & to toun led: He was a proude son of Priam, & a prise knight, And a wight man in wer, þof hym woo happnit. Line 8576 Achilles were hym full wightly, & the wegh slogh; Bare hym bak to þe bent, & the buerne deghit. Þen was clamur & crye for care of hym one, And myche dole for his dethe, þat derit hom all! Line 8580 Telamon, the toure kyng, þe Troiens pursuet; [folio 133a] Paris hym put of, & preset hym sore, With other kynges & knightes, and the kyde brether; But hom worthe to þe worse, wete ye for sothe, Line 8584 And soghtyn to the Citie in a sad hast! Than kaght þai the corse of þe kynges son, Broghtyn into burgh with baret & crye. When Ector herd of þat hynde vnhappely was dede, Line 8588 Þan fraynit þat fre, who þe freike sloghe. "Achilles the choise kyng," oon chaunsit to say, "ffell hym in fight & fele of oure knightes!" Ector, wode of his wit for woo of his brother, Line 8592 Haspit on his helme, & his horse toke; Went out wightly, vnwetyng his fader. Two Dukes full derne, he to dethe broght, And manly with mayn mellit with other; Line 8596 Kyld downe knightes, karve hom in sonder. Mony wondet the weghe, & to woo caste; Britnet hom on bent, and on bake put. The grekes, for his greffe, girdyn hym fro, Line 8600 Thay knew hym full kyndly be caupe of his sworde. Then the Troiens full tyte to the toune floghen, Issuet out egurly Ector to helpe; Gird evyn to the grekes, and hor ground toke; Line 8604 ffoghten full felly, and hor fos harmyt.

Polidamas, the pert, was presset so fast, Þat he was wonen in wer, & away led: Than Ector in yre Egerly faght, Line 8608 And the grekes in his grem gird he to dethe,— Two hundreth in hast, þat the hend led,— And deliuert the lede with his lyfe hole! This a grete of the grekes graidly beheld, Line 8612 Had meruell full mekyll, macchet hym to Ector, (Liochydes, the large, so þe lord hight): He wend, the prinse in the prese haue put out of lyue. Ector wrathit hym with, and the wegh hit, Line 8616 Þat he deghit of the dynt, er he doun fell. Achilles, this chaunse choisly beheld, [folio 133b] Þat so mony of þaire men were marrid by hym, He hopit but if happely þat hardy were slayne, Line 8620 Þat neuer greke shuld haue grace the ground for to wyn; Ne neuer Troye for to take, terme of hor lyue. He bethoght hym full thicke in his thro hert, And all soteltie soght, serchit his wit, Line 8624 On all wise in this world, þat werke for to end, And the prinse with his power put vnto dethe. As he stode þus in stid, starit hym vpon, Policenes, a pert Duke, þat in prese rode, Line 8628 Þat was chere to Achilles, cherisit with loue, And thidur soght, for his sake, his sistur to haue, A mon he was of More Ynde, mighty of godes, Þere hit auntrid full euyn, þat Ector hym met, Line 8632 And the lede with a launse out of lyue broght. Achilles the chaunse cheuit for to se: Vne wode of his wit, walt into angur. The dethe of þat Duke he dight hym to venge. Line 8636 To Ector full egurly he etlit anon: Ector keppit the kyng er he caupe might,

Drof at hym with a dart, & þe Duke hit. Hit was keruond & kene, & the kyng hurt, Line 8640 And woundit hym wickedly thurght the waist euyn, Þat he sesit of his sute, soght he no ferre.

THE DETHE OF ECTOR, BY ACHILLES TRAYTURLY SLAYN.

Achilles for the chop cherit hym not litle, Braid out of batell, bound vp his wounde, Line 8644 Stoppit the stremys stithly agayne; Lep vp full lyuely, launchit on swithe, To þat entent, truly, as the trety sais, To deire Ector with dethe, or degh þere hym seluyn. Line 8648 As Ector faght in the fild fell of the grekes, He caupit with a kyng, caght hym anon; Puld hym, as a prisoner of prise for to wyn, With strenght thurgh the stoure, as the story tellus. [folio 134a] Line 8652 His sheld on his shulders shot was behynd, And his brest left bare, so the buerne Rode, To weld hym more winly þat worthy to lede. Achilles grippit a gret speire with a grym wille, Line 8656 Vnpersayuit of the prince prikit hym to, Woundit hym wickedly, as he away loked, Thurgh the body with the bit of the bright end, That he gird to þe ground, & the gost yald. Line 8660 This Sedymon segh, þat soght out of Troy: Evyn wode for þat worthy was of lyue done, He cheuet to Achilles with a chop felle, Þat he braid to the bent with a brem wound; Line 8664 And for ded of þat dynt the Duke þere hym leuit. The Myrmaidons, his men, þaire maistur can take, Bere hym on his brode sheld to his big tent, There left hym as lyueles, laid hym besyde: Line 8668 But yet deghit not the Duke, þof hym dere tholit.

Then the Troiens with tene turnyt them backe, Soghten to þe Citie with sorow in hert, Entrid all somyn angardly fast, Line 8672 And the body of the bold prinse broghtyn hom with.

When the corse of þat comly comyn was to toun, Miche dole & dyn was dole [for] to here, With Sobbyng þro the Cité, & Syling of teris, Line 8676 With gawlyng & grete the grettist among. All the Citiesyns, for sothe, for sorow of the prinse, Miche water þai weppit, wringyng of hond: The dit & the dyn was dole to be-hold! Line 8680 All the wemen of wit thurgh the wale toune, Wyfes, & wedowes, & worshipfull maidnes, Within houses & hallis hard was þere chere. Wyth myche dole vppon dayes & on derke nightes, [folio 134b] Line 8684 Sum walt into wodenes, & of wit past: The petie & the playnt was pyn for to here! Euer thai said in hor sagh, as þai so might, Þai had no hope of þere heale, ne þere hede children, Line 8688 All hor trust þan was tynt, truly þai said, Thurgh the dethe of þat dere, & done out of hope! "Alasse, the losse and the lure of oure lefe prinse! Now sesit be oure Citie with oure sad fos; Line 8692 Our husbandes to hard dethe, & our hede slayne; We set vnder seruage, in sorow to abyde!" On this wise all the weke, woke þai within, With Remyng & rauthe, Renkes to be-hold. Line 8696

Line 8696

The body of þat bold was broght to his fader, With all the kynges full clene, & þe kid Dukes. With myche care & crie þai comyn hym with, Rent of þere riche clothes, ryuyn þere chekes, Line 8700 And setton hym full sorily þat souerain before. When Priam, the prise kyng, on the prinse loked, Suche a sorow full sodenly sanke in his hert, Þat he fainted for feble fell on his corse Line 8704 In a swone & a swogh, as he swelt wold. He was ded, as to deme, þat day mony tymes, ffor the dole & the deire of his dere sone. Ne hade the buerne from the body bigly ben draghen, Line 8708 He hade doutles be dede, & his day comyn. Miche bale hade his brether, and his blithe sister: Hom hade leuer then the lond out of lyue be. What of Ecuba the honerable, þat was his aune moder? Line 8712 The sorow þat ho suffert were solly to here; & the dole of Andromaca, þat was his dere wife, What blod & bright watur on hir brest light! & the sobbyng & the sorow, þat sought hir within, Line 8716 Hit were tore any tunge tell hit with mouthe! [folio 135a] The dole for þat doghty of his dere fryndes, Of wepyng, & wayle, & wryngyng of hondes, Clamur & crie, crakkyng of fyngurs, Line 8720 Of þo ledis þat hym louyt, no lettur might tell! The body of this bold, þat barely is ded, Most follow by fourme the freeltie of man: Hit may not long vpon loft ly vncorruppit, Line 8724 Ne be keppit thurgh kynd for vnclene ayre. Then Priam the prise kyng, prestly gert come Maisturs full mony, & men þat were wise.

He fraynet at þo fre, with a fyn wille, Line 8728 How the korse might be keppit in his kynd holl, ffresshe, vndefacede, & in fyne hew, As a lede vpon lyue, likyng to se; And not orible, ne vgly of odir to fele. Line 8732 Then þo maisturs gert make a meruelous toumbe, Honerable & auonand, in Apolyn temple, At the prayer of Priam, of a prise werke, Beside Tiberian, þat in Troy was a triet yate, Line 8736 ffoundit full faire fele yeres past. There set was full solenly besyde the high aulter, A tabernacle triet & tristyly wroght, Of foure pillers vp pight all of pure gold: Line 8740 Like ymages were all, abill of shap, Lokend full lyuely as any light angels, ffro aboue to þe base bright to be-hold, With full corius korse, & craftely grauen. Line 8744 Hit was atiryt vmb the top all with triet stones, Of all kyndes to ken, þat clerkes cold deuyse. Þai lemet so light, þat ledes might se Aboute midnyght merke as with mayn torches; Line 8748 And on dayes to deme, as by due sight, As beamys of bright sun, þat braunchis olofte, [folio 135b] This tabernacle tristy was tyrit on hegh, Vpon cristall full clere, clustrit with greses, Line 8752 As a gate fro the ground to the gay herse: Þat weghes might walke & waite þerapon. Aboue on þis bright, as the boke sayes, Thos maisturs gert make a meruelous ymage, Line 8756 All grauen of gold, a gret & a longe, Amyt after Ector, abill of shap, With a noble sword & a nait naked in his hond, Vp holdand on high as he þat wold stryke: Line 8760 Turnyt to the tenttes of the tore grekes,

With a lyuely loke, ledis to be-hold: The same fawchon full fell, þat þe freke bere, Þat had greuit mony grekes, & to ground broght, Line 8764 Hit was burnisshed full bright & of blade kene; And in mynd of þat man for manas was holdyn. The body of þat bolde, as buerne vppon lyue, Was full solemly set in a seate vnder, Line 8768 Ymydward the mayne towmbe with maistres deuyse. All the feturs of þat fre, fresshe to be-hold, Iche lede on to loke, lemys & other All set for to se, saue the fete one, Line 8772 In soche apparell full pure, as the prince vsit. Þan þo maisturs gert make, amyddes his hede, A hole þurgh his herne-pon hertely by craft; There-in put was a pipe, with a prise oyntment Line 8776 Of bavme & of balsamom, þat brethede full swete, With oþer maters mynget, þat most were of strenght,— Conseruatours by craft, þat cointly were made. The bavme þurghe his brayn all on brod ran, Line 8780 And the forhed before fresshly within; So hit entrid to þe Ene, & evyn to his nase, And so be craft & by course come to his chekes, Goyng to his gomys and the ground of his tethe, [folio 136a] Line 8784 Þat keppit hom be crafte all in clene vertue. So the face of þat freike was fresshe to be-hold, With the here on his hede, þat hogely was mekyll, And grew fro the ground, þat gomys might know, Line 8788 As a lede vpon lyue; lefe if ye will! ffro thethen the lycour belyue launchit doun evyn, Thurgh the goters of his gorge, & the grete pype, To the brest of the buerne and the bare shulders; Line 8792

Line 8792 And past so by proces to his prise armys, Bret thurgh the bones and the big senowis, Euer folowand the fell to þe fyngur endys. So hit soght to the sydes & serchit with-in, Line 8796 And keppit hom full cleane in hor kynd hew, Þat as a lede vpon lyue to loke on þai ware. Þen hit sewit furth soberly, & sanke fro aboue, By the lyndes of the lede, to the leell theghes, Line 8800 Passond by poris into þe pure legges; And so, be corse of the craft, com to his fete. In whiche fete þere was formyt fresshly another, ffull of bawme þat was bright, & of brethe noble. Line 8804 Thus keppit was this corse of the clene prinse, As a lede vpon lyue a full long tyme. Þen þos maisters gert make, all with mayn crafte, ffovre lampis full light, ledis to beholde, Line 8808 Þat gay were & grete, all of gold fyne; ffild vp with fyre, þat fynet not to bren; Þat no watur þen wete in world might hom let, Ne the light make lesse ne the low fade. Line 8812 When this taburnacle atyrit was tally to end, Thai closit hit full clanly, all with clene ambur, Vmbe the borders aboue, þat no buerne entrid, With a dore þat was derne, all for dere fryndes Line 8816 ffor to loke on þat lede, when hom lefe þought, Or þat soght hym to se in his sete holl. Then Priam, the prise kyng, puruait to leng [folio 136b] Mony seruondis full solemne in the same temple,— Line 8820 Of prestes to pray, and pure men of lyffe, With worship to wale goddis, & wakyng on nightes. He gafe Renttes full Rife, & myche Ranke godis, All þo ledis on to lyf, þat longit þerto, Line 8824 Bothe prestes and prise clerkes prudly to fynd.

THE COUNSAILL OF AGAMINON AFTER THE DEATHE OF ECTOR.

When Ector done was to dethe, & his day past, Achilles woundit full wothely in were of his lyffe, All the grete of the grekes gedrit were sone, Line 8828 By ordinaunce of the Emperoure, þat after hom sent. Thus he spake for his spede his specials vnto:— "Now fryndes, in faith, vs is faire happont, And þroly, me thinke, we thanke shuld oure goddes, Line 8832 Þat hase grauntid vs þat grace of þe gome Ector, To be drepit to dethe thurgh dughty Achilles. ffor, while the lede was on lyf, & his lymes holl, We hade hertely no hope here for to spede, Line 8836 Yonder toun for to take, ne tene hom within, Ne in this lond, at our lust, lykyng to haue. ffor he hase kyld of our kynges, to count hom by nome, Prothesselon, Patroculun, & Policene als; Line 8840 Myrion the mighty, & the mayn Sedymon; Prothenor the pert, & the prinse Xancipun. Alphenor the fuerse flung he to dethe; Archillagon the choise choppit to ground; Line 8844 Domen the doughty, & derf Polexenas; Isum, also, abill of his dedys. Polipheten, a prise mon, he put out of lyue; Letabion on the laund þere left he for ded; Line 8848 And mony grete of our grekes he to ground broght. Syn he be destany is dede, what dem þar vs ellus, But the Citie to sese, & slyng it to ground; All the pepull to pyne put, and dethe at oure lust? [folio 137a] Line 8852

Line 8852 And þat shall douteles be done in dayes a few. And syn vs botis notto batell but vs bale worthe, Withoutyn the helpe and the hondes of herty Achilles, Hit is best þat we byde, barly, me thinke, Line 8856 Tyll he be hole of his hurt, hast we no ferre. Let vs puruay to Priam prise men of wit, ffor to trete of a tru in trist of the bettur, Till two monethes & more be meuit to end, Line 8860 ffor to bery þies bodies, þat brittnet are to dethe, That storis vs with stynke, & our state harmys; And our hurtmen to hele, þat harmys haue kaght." When his speche was spokyn, & sped to þe last, Line 8864 All the lordes hit alowet, & lowten þerto. Then sent were þere sone soundismen two, To Priam, the prise kyng, purpos to hold; And he grauntid vngright with a good chere, Line 8868 And affirmet hit with faith to þe frekis all. Within the tyme of þis tru, as the trety sais, Palomydon the proud kyng playnet hym ofte, Of Agamynons gouernaunce in a grete yre. Line 8872 And as hit tid on a tyme, þes triet kynges hoole Were somyn at a semly the souerain before, Palomydon put hym full prestly to say, And meuit of his mater, þat I mynnet are. Line 8876 Þan Agamynon, full godely, agayn to hym said, Before þo kynges in comyn on a cleane wise:— "Now Palomydon, pure ffrende, pertly I aske, Whethur þou hope it in hert, or hold in þi mynd, Line 8880 That I am glad of þis gouernaunce, to be gyde here: Syn I with prayer, ne with pursuet, preset not þeraftur, Ne desyret hit in dede þe dayes of my liffe. Ne neuer fortherit me a ferthing to fylsy my goodes; Line 8884

Line 8884 But oft wandrit, & woke, & in my wit caste; And my person enpayret, pynet me sore, [folio 137b] ffor thes lordes þat I lede, and the ledis all, And my suete all somyn, sound for to kepe Line 8888 Out of daunger and dole, & fro dethe holde. And yf this power be putto any prise kyng, Or any lord in oure land, hit likes me full well His biddyng to obey, and his bone here; Line 8892 And be gouernyt by that graithe, as his degre askes. Wele I hope in my hert, & heghly Suppose, I haue not errit in anythyng of all my tyme yet, In any cas to acount, þat comyn is before, Line 8896 Þat hase skapet vs to skathe, ne to skyre harme. Syn me to chose as for cheftan þou no charge hade, Meruell the not mekell, ne in mynd haue; ffor þou apperit not in presens, ne preuyt not þi wit, Line 8900 Ne entrid not the ost till after two yeres. If we barly hade abiden with oure buernes hole, We hade ass[em]eld ben at Attens, all oure ost Somen, And not past out of port, ne oure purpos haldyn. Line 8904 Ne, non hertly shalle hope þat I am here fayn, Of his gouernaunce be glad, ne haue gret Joye; ffor hit is lykyng, by my lyf, & lusty for me, To chose another cheftan by charge of vs all; Line 8908 And his alligiaunce lelly I will loute to, With all the might þat I may to maintene our werre. Ne, þi self may not say, ne for sothe telle, Without assent of all somyn, sothely till now, Line 8912 Þat any dede has be don, or to dom past, But þou in person aprevit, & all oure prise kynges,

And by agrement of the gret, & þe graunt hoole." When the souerain hade said, þen he sest here; Line 8916 And of this mater no more was menyt at þat tyme.

The same day, Sothely, sais me the lyne, At euensangtyme afterward, Agamynon hym seluyn Somond all þo souerains somyn to appere, Line 8920 And the knightes by course, Comyns & other, [folio 138a] In presens of þat prinse with þere pure wittes. The secund day sewyng, before hym-self euyn, Þen gedret were the grete with þere gyng all, Line 8924 Comyn to þe kyng and þere course held. Þen þe worthy þes wordes warpit hom too:— "Now, fryndes & ffelowes, fayrly to þis, I haue ben chargit as cheftain, be chaunse of our goddes; Line 8928 And haue traueld with tene, oft turnyt my wit, All oure wayes to wale, þat worship might folow; Þat the grete on this ground, & þaire gomys hole, Might suerly be sauyt, & þaire sute haue. Line 8932 Hit has happont me hiderward, thurgh help of our goddes, Þat all oure fare & oure fortune hath fallyn to þe best. Syn hit is Reason & right, þat renkes so mony, Noght ay obaye to on buerne, ne his bone kepe, Line 8936 Þat are so mony, & mighty, & more of astate; Now is tyme in this tru, or any toile rise, To discharge me as cheftain, & chaunge my lif, That have maintenede with monhode mony yere past. Line 8940 Let sum kyng of oure company, or sum clene prinse,

By assent of all somyn, set hym þerto, And gouerne vs with graithnes & with gret wit, To be charget as cheftain by choise of vs all." Line 8944 Þen assentid full sone souerain & other, And were glad of þe graunt, þat the grete said; ffor hit is couyt by a comyn, by corse of þere wit, Ay hor cheftain to chaunge, þof hit chefe wors; Line 8948 And ay fayne of the freike in his first tyme, Þof hit worthe to þe worse: wete ye for sothe. Þan þes lordys to Election lyuely þai went, To chese hom a cheftan with charge of hom all, Line 8952 Who shuld falle it by fortune of the fre kynges. Palomydon for prise the pert kynges toke, And ordant hym Emperour by oppyn assent, The ost for to honour, & agh hym as lord: [folio 138b] Line 8956 And his alligiaunce to loute liked hom all. When cause of thies kynges was comyn to an end, All turnyt to þere tenttes, when the tyme asket. Then hit chaunsit þat Achilles of þe choise herd, Line 8960 That Palomydon was prinse, & put doun the tother: Hit heuet hym hogely of þat hard chaunce. Hit was vnfittyng, he said, þere souerain to voide; ffor the graithnes of Agamynon, & the gret wit, Line 8964 Was passand Palomydon & the prinses all; And a choise shuld in chaunge be chosen for the bettur. But it comyn was be course of comyn assent, And confirmit by the kynges, he keppit hit for goode: Line 8968 No more in the mater mellit hym as then, But past furth to his pale, & here a pase endis.