Here begynnethe the boke calledde Iohn bochas descriuinge the falle of princis princessis [and] other nobles tra[n]slated i[n]to englissh by Iohn ludgate mo[n]ke of the monastery of seint edmu[n]des Bury ...

Howe Atreus kynge of messene wrought ayenst his brother Thiestes slewe his thre chyldren dis∣mēbryd them pecys made Thieftes to ete of their flessh and drynke of their blode

bOchas the poete auctour of this boke Him purposynge to gydre and compyle Dyuers stories anon his pen he toke Him remembrynge within a lytyll whyle In this chapitle began direct his style To wryte the storye and hye compendious A forne all other of duke theseus

Lorde of athenys a famous great cite Right stronge and mighty on euery syde But at his backe bochas dyd one se Which cryed loude and bad he shulde abyde Bochas quod he fro the me lyst not hyde My wofull case ne in no wise spare My pitous compleynt to the to declare

I am thiestes besprent all with wepynge Drounyd in teers as thou maist well see Sometyme sonne of the mighty kynge Philistines and born also parde Of quene pellop••a excellent of beute And for thou art desirous to endite Of people vnhappy and their wo to wryte

My wyll is this anon that thou procede Turne thy style and take thy pen blyue Leue theseus and take of him non hede But first my tragedie that thou discryue For I suppose that in all thy lyue That thou sawe neuir a thinge more dolorous More vnhappy more frowerde ne pitous

Than is alas my mortall auenture Incomperable the sorowe surmountynge Of quene iocasta moste wofull criature Or of edippus his faat euyr complaynynge For my complaynt hath none endynge But lastith euer and berith me witnesse No wo resemblyth vnto my heuinesse

And with that worde iohn bochas styll stode Full soberly to yeue him audience And in the place demurely abood To here the substaunce of his mortall offence Which thus bigan to shewe the sentence O iohn qd he I pray the take gode hede My wo to wryte that men may it rede

Alas my brother rote of vnkyndnesse Attreus callyd of reason sours and well And fynder oute of treason and falsenesse And all other in fraude he doth precelle Whos couert hate is more than I can tell I supposynge of verry innocence In him no malice disceit nor none offence

But as brother shulde a brother trust I trustyd him of hert wil and thought By apparen••e none other cause I wiste For in his persone I supposyd nought That euer he coude so false a thinge haue wrought But who may sūner another man disceyue Than he in whome no malice men conceyue

I demyd of him as of my true brother w••••ynge he had feythfull ben to me I sawe no signe ne I knewe none other In him supposynge no duplicite But wo alas who myght it euer be Or who dyd euer in any story fynde Blood vnto blode to be so vnkynde

I woll passe ouer to tell the worthynesse Touchinge the estatys of oure progenytours Of oure kynred & the greate nobl••sse I tell no thinge neyther of our predecessours Neither of my youth howe passyd ben the floures I l••ue all this and vnto mynde call The wretchidnesse that I am in fall

My brother fonde a fals occasion Ayenst me and bigan a cause feyne To banysshe me oute of oure region And bigan at me of hatred so disdeyne Vpon me affermynge in certeyne In oure kyngdome which callyd is myssene I shulde haue leyen by his wife the quene

This he compassyd full falsly of malice Him self wele knowynge that it was nat so Euer founde vnkynde and his auyse Nat lyke my brother but like my dedely foo And to encrese greate percell of my woo By longe processe in his entencion He ymagenyd my distruction

Wherof the people were full glad and light Thurghout myssene that myghty region At my resortynge fyndynge euery wyght Nedy of hert and hole affection Me to resort into that noble toun And none so redy by signes oute shewynge To make me chere in soth as was the kynge

There is no damage in com{per}yson That may be lykenyd by no resemblaunce To feyned truth and simulacion Whan fraude is hyd with a faire countenaunce Pretendynge truth outwarde by disseyuaunce And vnderneth of moost false entent Of doublenesse darith the serpent

As vnder floures is shrowdyd the dragon For to betraisshe by sodeyne violence Such folke as haue no suspeccion But truly mene in their pure innocence Tyll they be caught dispurueyed of diffence As a fisshe with bayte of fals plesaunce The hoke nat seen to brynge him to myschaunce

Thus semblably at my home comynge I was resceyuyd with euery circumstaunce Lyke as half heire and brother to the kynge And he pretendynge as by coūtenaunce That he had so inly gretly plesaunce Of my repaire of truth he tolde so For reioysinge saide he wolde go

And his cheif cause was fals couetise Touchyng this thinge which he dyd on me feyne And yit this kyngdome truly to deuyse Shuld haue be de{per}tyd of right betwene vs tweyne But ayenst truth he dyd so ordeyne Me to besile out of that region Him self alone to haue possession

Yit in his hert he cast another wyle To my vndoynge and disolacion To the place where he dyde me exile Vnder a shadowe of fals collusion To make a maner reuocacion Of bretherhede shewynge a pretence Me to resorte ayen to his presence

To be acceptyd as a brother shulde With full accoorde styll with him forto abyde All iniures of which afore I tolde On either {per}tye foryete and set a syde That no thinge after shulde oure loue deuyde But of one wyll and one entencion Lede all oure life withoute diuision

Vnto his goddes to do sum obseruaunce For this accord and humble sacrifise Made his ministres with feithfull attendaunce To waite on me in all their best wise It nedith nat to tell ne diuyse Neither by writynge in bokes for to set Halfe the ioye he made whan we met

First howe frendly he dyd me enbrace Of hertely gladnesse within his armes tweyne And howe for ioye the terys on his face Full enteerly gan distyll and reyne That for my {per}tye he ••oude nat me restreyne But that I must of frendship fraternall Wepe as dyd he in his estate riall

The wily wolfe that cast him to deuoure The sely lambe which can no diffence Ne none helpe him self to socoure So feble he is to make resistence Which demyth truth of fals apparence What wondre is it the fraude nat conceyuyd Though such lambys vnwarely be disceyuyd

Though that roses at mydsomer be full sote Yit vnderneth is hyd a full sharpe spyne Sum fressh floures haue a full bytter rote And lothsum gall can also sugre vndermyne In dredfull stormes the sūne amonge doth shyne And wnder a shadowe of feyned frenlihede There is no frendship so perilous to drede

Thus remembrynge the feithfull wordes stable Of my brother shewyd vnto me At oure metynge the kyssynge amyable The assuryd couenauntes at oure fraternyte But oft tyme men may beholde and se That lilyes growen amonge these netles thicke And floure delice in myddes these wedys wicke

Thus while I restyd in the kynges hous No thinge aduertynge his dedely crueltie His olde hatred was so venymous And so odyble to distroye me Him self to auenge he toke my children ••hree And sikerly is it nat a wonder He cut their throtes with a knyfe a sundre

For he thought that it dyd him good Theym to dismembre into pecis smale And in a vessell for to gadre their blode While they lay styll and lokyd on him pale This was his dede in a desert vale Withinne a caue that no man shulde aspye Treason conspired of his fals tirannye

This was the substaunce of his sacrifise ••o sle my children and make their hertis blede I trowe the goddes therof dyde agrise Of his fals offringe whan they toke hede He dyd their membres after roste and sede And with this viande moost abhominable He made me to be seruyd at the table

In couert cruses also thus it stode To staunche my thrust thrugh his cruel vēgeaūce He made me vnknowe drynke their blode Was nat this thinge to goddes displesaunce Yis I dare say for by demonstraunce Vpon this dede withoute more obstacle The sonne in heuyn shewyd a myracle

Which sore agrysyd myght nat beholde With his bemys theron to cast his sight For displesaunce his cleernes began witholde And for vengeaunce to withdrawe his light The day tournynge for horrour into nyght Whan he shone brightest in his mydday spere Shroudyd his face and wold nat appere

But I alas vpon this caas horrible That coude nat ymagyne neyther thynke On any mater that was so odible Get their flessh th••••r blode also dyde I drynke Which so sore doth to myn herte synke That I may nat touchinge this auenture The circumstaunce for constreynt discure

It nedith nat me to make rehersaile Touchynge myn exyll of all maner thynges Of diuers sorowes that me dyde assayle My wofull sighes ne my greuous wepynges Neyther vpon nyghtes my dolorous wakinges My pouert neyther howe I stode in drede To lese my lyfe wherof bochas take hede

And remembre all the cyrcumstaunce If euer thou sawe of highe or lowe degre More contrarie / or more vnhappy chauncis Than thou herde remembred here of me Weye in balauncis / my sorowes let se If any sorowe or myscheef vnrecuryd May countirpeyce to that I haue enduryd

Myn enfortunes I fonde theym ay so fell Without fauour and socour dispurueyed My brother on me euer so cruell That I full oft desired to haue dyed For to this day my sprite hath be conueyed With sorowe and woo deuoide of all refuge Wherfore I praye / o bochas be my iuge

And in thy wrytynge leue nat me behynde Neyther in thy book / that thou nat disdeyne Amonge the folke / that thou haue me in mynde Which that for sorowe wepe / weyle / and pleyn And thus T••estes rehersynge all his peyne Like as he wolde him self on pecis rende Made vnto bochas of his tale an ende