And than wol I—so haue I blis!— [folio 226a]
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In the temple of Apolynys
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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!—
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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
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Off ȝoure biddyng & ȝoure consayl;
Hit schal be done with-oute fayl.'
On morwe erly, whan it was day,
Paris thanne with-oute delay
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Wente to the temple, and ther him hid
With twenti armed knyȝtes myd
That were hardy & wondir strong,
To scle Achilles hem among.
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¶ The sonne schon, the day was cler,
Hectuba sente hir Messanger
Afftir that knyȝt, sir Achilles,
And bad him faire: "whil it was pes,
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Come swithe home to hir house,
And he scholde haue to his spouse
Pollexene, that semely may,
That he so moche loued ay."
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¶ 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
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An hundrid thousand pounde,
He hadde not ben so glad that stounde
As he was thanne—I vndirstande,—
When he herde this tythande.
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