Yet hopit he full hertely, for his hegh prowes,
And doghtenes of dede with his dregh strokes,
If he gright with the grekes to graunt hom his helpe,
Þat þai the lond shuld leue & lightly go home.
Line 9316
Þen Achilles did cherisshe the cheftan of all.
Palomydon, the prise, by purpos of hym,
All the grete of the grekes gedrit hym somyn,
To a counsell to come for the comyn proffet.
Line 9320
When prinses & prise kynges were in pale somyn,
Among tho mighty with mouthe menit Achilles:—
"Now, fryndes faithfull, in feliship here! [folio 144a]
Kynges, & knightes, & other kyde Dukes,
Line 9324
That the charge, & the chaunse hase of þis choise wer,
Thurgh oure might & oure monhod maintene to gedur!
What whylenes, or wanspede, wryxles our mynd?
Þat for meuyng of a man, —Menelay the kyng,—
Line 9328
And the wille of a woman, as ye weton all,
Oure londes haue leuyt, & oure lefe godys,
Our childur, oure choise folke, & chefen fro hom
Vnto a cuntre vnkynd, with care at oure herttes:
Line 9332
Oure godys, oure gold vngaynly dispendit,
And oure persons be put vnto pale dethe.
Oure kynges are kyld, & oure kyd Dukes:
Oure buernes with baret britnet in feld,
Line 9336
Þat might haue leuet in hor lond, as lordes at hame.
And my selfe, sothely, suffert full hard,
Wickedly woundit, wasted my blode.
