The auncient historie and onely trewe and syncere cronicle of the warres betwixte the Grecians and the Troyans and subsequently of the fyrst euercyon of the auncient and famouse cytye of Troye vnder Lamedon the king, and of the laste and fynall destruction of the same vnder Pryam, wrytten by Daretus a Troyan and Dictus a Grecian both souldiours and present in all the sayde warres and digested in Latyn by the lerned Guydo de Columpnis and sythes translated in to englyshe verse by Iohn Lydgate moncke of Burye.

The thyrde boke. (Book 3)

¶Of the first battaile wherin Hector shewed hym selfe in valyauncye tofore all other. Capitulo .xxii.

WVhen Aurora with her pale lyght, Vnder y^e mantel of the mirke night. And the curtyne of her hewes fade, Yshrouded was in the derke shade, Abashed rud dy as I can defyne, Only as she that is Femynyne, For ashamed durste not tho be seyne, Bycause she had so longe a bedde leyne, With freshe Phebus her owne chosen knight. For whiche she hydde her sothly out of syght. Tyll his stede that called is Flegonte, Enhasted hym aboue oure Orizonte. And Appollo with his beames clere, Hath recomforted her oppressed chere. This to saye after the dawnynge. When Tytan was vp in East rysinge. Of his hete atempre and ryght softe, Their hemisphere for to glade a lofte. ¶The same houre the Troyan champiowne, Gouernour of werres of the towne, Worthy Hector whiche in the Cite, Nexte Pryam had of all the souereyntee, The towne to guyde by knightly excellence, For his manhode and his sapyence. Of Troyan knyghtes lorde & eke cheuetaine, Whiche hath commaunded in a large playne, To hyghe and lowe he exceptynge none, Kynges, prynces, and lordes euerychone, The same morowe for to mete yfere, In their araye to mustre and appere. Lyke as they were of name and of estate. Besyde a temple whylom consecrate, To the goddesse that called is Dyane. Moste honoured in this riche phane. There to array them in all the haste they can, Lyke the deuyse of this knyghtly man. ¶And in this playne passynge fayre to se, Was sette amydde of Troye the Cite. Smoth & right faire & full of freshe floures. Where all the worthy noble werryours, Of Troye towne togyther assembled be, And many other to beholde and se, The famous knyghtes arme them in y^t place. And some of them gan full streyte lace, Their doublettes made of lynnen clothe. A certayne folde that aboute hym goth. And some also dempte moste sureste, To arme them for batayle of areste, And dyd on fyrst after their desyres, Sabatons greues cussues with voyders, A payre brech alder fyrst of mayle, And some there were eke that ne wolde fayle, To haue of mayle a payre brase. And therwithall as the custome was, A payre gussettes on a pety coote, Garnished with golde vp vnto the throte. A paunce of plate whiche of the selfe behynde, Was shot and close and theron as I fynde, Enuyron was abordure of smalle mayle, And some chose of the newe entayle, For to be surmyd of all their foes, And hole breste plate with arere dors. Behynde shet or elles on the syde, And on his armes rynged not to wyde, There were voyders fretted in the mayle. With cordes rounde and of freshe entayle, Vambras with wynges and rerebras therto, And theron sette were besaguys also, Vpon the head a basenet of stele, That within was locked wonder wele, A craftye syght wrought in the viser, And some wolde haue of plate a bauer, That on the brest fastned be aforne, The canell pece more easy to be borne. Gloues of plate of stele forged bryght, And some for they wold armed be more light, In thicke Iackes couered with satyne. & some wolde haue of mayle wrought ful fine, An hawberion of late wrought cassade, That with weight he be not ouer lade. Hym selfe to welde lyke a lyfly man, And some wyll haue of chose geseran, On his boublet but an hawberyon. And some only but a sure gepon, Ouer his polrynges rechinge to the knee. And that the sleues eke so longe be,

That his vambras may be cured ner. A pryckynge palet of plate the couer. And some wyll haue also no vyser, To saue his face but onely an aser, And some wyll haue a payre of plates lyghte, To welde hym well whan that he shall fyght. And some wyll haue a target or a spere, And some a pauade his body for to were. And some a targe made stronge to laste, And some wyll haue dartes for to caste. Some a poilax headed of fyne stele, And pycked square for to laste wele. And some a swerde his enemye for to mete, And some wyll haue a bowe for to shete. Some an arblast to standen out a syde, ¶And some on foote and some for to ryde. Array them selfe their fomen for to sayle, And many one was busye for to nayle, His felowes harneys for to make it stronge, And to dresse it that it sette not wronge. With poyntes tasshyes & other maner thinge, That in suche case longeth to armynge. I haue no connynge euery thynge to telle, And vnto you were to longe to dwelle, Where I fayle ye mot haue me excused, For in suche crafte I am but lyttle vsed. And ignoraunce doth my pennelette, In order dewe my termes for to sette. And ofte chaūgeth suche harneys and deuyse, And ye that be therin expert and wyse, Disdeyne not that I speake in this place, Of their armynge for all is in your grace. Right at your lyst correcte it euerydell. ¶And when Hector sawe that al was well, And euery man armed and arrayed, This worthy knight no longer hath delayed, Aduysedly his wardes for to make, And prudently badde they shulden take, Their grounde in haste to put all in certayne, And stande in order endlonge on the playne. So that no man founde were recheles. ¶And the gate called Dardanydes, Without abode Hector made vnshette, And after bad that men shulde do fette, To his presence that it were done in haste, ¶Cyncynabor his brother borne in baste. And vnto hym fyrst of euerychon, ¶And to a lord that named was Glaucon, The kynges sonne of Lycye and his heire, With many baner auaunsed in the eyre, To these two Hector gaue the guarde. And gouernaunce of the fyrst warde. In which he hath a thousande knyghtes sette, With speres rounde and swordes kene whette. And on their brest full many ryche shyelde, And they were chosen out in all the fielde, Amonge the beste that endure myght. Agayne grekes manly for to fyght. And vnto them Hector bad anone, In goddes name that they shulden gone. Out at the gate sothly as I rede. ¶And lest they fyll in mischiefe or in nede, He assygned in the selfe place, With manly chere to the kynge of Trace, Wysely on hym to be awaytyng. A thousande knyghtes to haue at his ledyng. In a wynge knyghtly to abyde, To wayte on hym vpon euery syde, And with hym his sonne Archylogus, Of his age a man ryght vertuous, To fulfyll that longeth to a knyght, For both he had herte and also myght. ¶And next to them Hector gan deuyse, The next warde to the kyng of Fryse, That in his time called was zantipus. And vnto hym stronge and desyrous, He assygned to wayte on his banere, Thre thousand knight{is} armed bryght & clere. With whiche warde kyng Alcanus also, Of Hector was commaunded for to go, And to his byddyng he mekely dyd obeye, And full knyghtly taken haue their waye, Out at the gate passyngly arrayed. Towarde grekes with baners all displayed. And their penons vnrolled euerychone. ¶And Hector then assygned hath anone, To the noble yonge lusty freshe and free, His brother Troylus so goodly on to se. Whiche in knyghthode had all suffysaunce. The thirde warde to haue in gouernaunce. With thre thousand knightes yonge of age, Flourynge in force hardy of courage. Suche as he was of custome wont to lede. To whom Hector of very brotherhead, Full goodly spake and sayd at his partynge. Brother quod he my herte is so louynge, Towardes the of very kyndnesse, That though I haue in party gret gladnesse,

Of thy manhode that so ferre is kouthe, And the knyghthode of thy grene youthe. Yet doubtlesse I in my fantasye, Ful ofte a daye stande in iupardye, Of pensyfehead and in busye drede, Whan I remembre vpon thy manhead. Lest thy courage be to vyolent. Of thy lyfe to be neglygent. Thy selfe to put to ferre in aduenture, Of surquidrye so moche to assure. In thy force knightly to a sterte, Euery peryll in thy manfull herte. Hauynge regarde in suche mortall stryfe, Of wylfulnesse nouther to death nor life. Nor aduertence to thy sauacyowne But as fortune turneth vp and downe, Her whele meuable hye and after lowe. In Martes Ire as the wynde doth blowe. Whiche causeth me ful ofte syghe and thincke, And to wake whan that I shulde wynke. Reuoluynge aye thy hasty wylfulnesse. But gentyll brother for any hardynesse, Thus ylke daye vpon euery syde, I praye the so wysely to prouyde, For hate or yre thy foes pursuynge, Not to excede more than is settynge. But let prudence kepe the in a mene, And wysdome eke holde agayne the reyne. Of thy herte and thy fyerse courage, That fyred haue thy grene tendre age. Deuoyde of drede eche peryll to endure, That our ennemyes of thy mysauenture, Reioyce not myne owne brother dere. And myghty Mars I praye of herte entere, Thus euery day on the Troyans grounde, From their handes the to kepe sounde. Lyke as I wolde that he dyd do me. ¶To whom anone with all humilite, In manly wise this yonge lusty knight. This worthy Troylus in herte freshe & light, Answered agayn and sayd with glad cheare, Mine owne lorde and my brother deare, And god tofore I fully shall obeye, And all fullfyll what you lyst to seye. Now vnto me of your gentilnesse, And not decline through none recklesnesse, In any poynt from your commaundemente. But with hole herte in all my best entente, I shall take hede and playnly do none other. Than ye haue sayd mine owne lord & bother. So lothe me were offende you or greue. And in this wise he lowly toke his leue. And forth he rode so lyke a manly knyght, That to beholde it was a noble syght, Amonge his men he haueth hym so wele. Thre thousande knightes armed all in stele, Enuyron rode with Troylus into fyelde. And as that day he beareth in his shielde, Passant of golde thre Lyons rychely. The champe of asure wrought full craftly. And by the gate he yssued out anone, And with him ladde his knyghtes euerychon, To the grekes holdyng the next waye. ¶And Hector hasteth all that euer he may, Prudently his wardes to ordeyne. And to the noble worthy bretherne twayne, To kyng Hupon and Andelius. Assygned he the story telleth thus, The fourth warde to guye and to wysse. And in the lande that called was Larysse, The brethern two there had reigned longe. And this Hupon was passyngly stronge, And of stature lyke a chaumpyowne. And saue Hector in all Troye towne, Was none to hym egall as of myght. More delyuer nor a better knight. And on his foen passyng despytous. Whiche with his brother Andelyus, Foure thousande knyghtes hadde for to lede. And seuen thousande sothly as I rede, And to them lyke as wryte Guydo, Worthy Hector assygned hath also, One of his brothern called Dimarchus, A noble knight in armes ryght famous. And had in manhode passyng excellence, And of Hector they taken haue lycence, And rode their waye amonge all the prese, Through the gate of Dardanides. ¶The fyfte warde to haue at his ledyng, Was by Hector commytted to the kyng, That of Cesoyne lorde and prynce was. And to his brother called Pollidamas. These Cysones were of hye stature, And might in armes passyngly endure. Vpon whom full many man behelde. And their kyng bare nothynge in his shyelde, But a fyelde of Gules as I fynde. Of other sygne Guydo maketh no minde.

And forth he rode a full sterne pase, This noble kynge and Pollydamas, Whan they had of Hector lene take. Whiche euer in one full busye was to make, The syxth warde with all his diligence. And to the kyng called Pretemense, That was full worthy both in werre & peace, ¶And to a duke that hyght Sterepes, Whyche was also full worthy of his honde, He toke the folke of Poenye lande. Them to gouerne in the fyelde that day. The whiche people hath in custome aye, Without plate hawberion or mayle, On swyfte horse their fomen for to assayle. With mighty bowes & arrowes sharpe groūd. Through an harneys mortally to wounde. And with this folke of Hector eke also, Deyphobus assygned was to go. In the fyelde to guyde them and to lede. And on their waye they faste gan theim spede. But or they passe by Dardanydes. Full discretely Hector for them chese, Panysers cladde in mayle and plate. Them commaundyng at yssuyng of the gate, And with the archers in to fyelde to gone. And many worthy well armed euerychone, To awayte on them that they were not lore. For this folke that I of spake tofore, Of Poenye hadden none armure. But prudent Hector for to make them sure, Out of Agrest the myghty regyowne, Hath chosen out full worthy of renowne, The best knightes of them euerychon. ¶And with the kynges Esdras and Phylon, Assygned them for to taken hede. To the fotemen when that they haue nede. The whiche Phylon ordeyned full rychely, Rode in a chere all of Yuery. Of whyche the wheles wrought full curious, Were of a tree ycalled Hebanus, The whiche tree groweth ferre in Inde. Blacke of hewe and also as I fynde, When it is korne this tree wyll were anone, Of his nature harde as any stone. Whan it is graue eyther rounde or square. And of pure golde roued was this chare. Fret with perle and many ryche stones. That suche an other I trowe now there none is. In all this worlde if I shall not fayne, And it was ladde of mighty knightes twaine. Men of armes within eke and without, Armed in stele rydyng rounde aboute. These worthy kynges Esdras and Phylon, And Hector hath called to hym anone. One of his brethern what so that be falle, To be guyde and leder of them all. The name of whom was Pytagoras, ¶And to the great Troyon Eneas, Of whom tofore made is mencion, Hector by good deliberation, The seuenth warde assygned hath to kepe. And vpon stedes lusty for to lepe, Of suche as were vsed moche to ryde, Full manly knightes to haue by his syde. Whiche with Ewpheny vnto Troye towne, Come so ferre from their regyowne. To succour them and that for Hectors sake. And when they had of hym leue take, They rode full proudely forth with Eneas. Out at the gate a wonder knightly pase, The brode fyelde tyll they haue atteyned. ¶And in this whyle Hector hath ordeyned, Lyke myne auctour as I can reherse, The eyght warde of the folke of Perce. Worthy knightes manly and ryght wyse, The whiche were committed to Paryse. On him that day tawayte busyly. To whom Hector tho full beningly, Spake and saide thus at his departyng. Oh brother myne in all maner thynge, Whan thou arte passed by Dardanides, This daye to ferre put the not in prese. Amonge grekes nor in iupardye. Lest thy toen in mischyefe the espye. To whom they haue of olde and newe date, In their hertes full freshe and mortall hate. The fyre of which their brest hath so enbrased That it were harde out to be araced. Wherfore brother loke that thou euer be, In any wise not to ferre fro me. But kepe the nye that no misauenture, Fall vpon the so that I may succoure, This daye to the mine owne brother deare. To whom Parys with full humble cheare, Answered and sayd that in euery thinge, He would obeye vnto his bidding. And rode his waye anone with his meyne, Into the felde out of the Cite.

The ninth warde in ordre for to dresse, Whych he thought hym selfe for to lede, In whych he put sothly as I rede, Fiue thousand knight{is} borne of Troy towne. The worthyest and greatest of renowne. And passyngly famous in knighthode. Borne by discent on the Troians bloud. ¶And of his brethern taketh w^t hym ten, Suche as he knewe the most manly men. That were forayne from stocke of regallye, Out of the lyne borne in bastardye. Whom Hector had in great chyerte, For the knyghthod he could in theim se. And whan he had by knightly purueaunce, All his wardes set in gouernaunce, Lyke Mars him selfe fast gan him spede, Without abode for to take his stede, Whych was in bokes called Gallathe. Of all horse hauyng the soueraynte. As ferre as men ryde in any coste, Of whom Dares maketh so great a boste, Of shape of heyght and also of fayrnesse, Of strengthe of loke and of great swyftnesse, So lyke an horse perfourmed out and oute, And w^t a wyer men might him tourne about. Lyke as Dares maketh menciowne, Of whō Hector rydeth through troye towne. Armed at all that came him wonder well. From foote to head full rychly euerydele, That shone as bright as son on somers daye. And to Pryam he helde the ryght waye, And whan that he was come to the kinge, He reherseth in ordre euery thynge, How he hath done and all his ordynaunce, And lowly sayd so it be plesaunce, To your noble royall excellence, I haue chosen with busy dylygence, A thousand knightes full of suffysaunce, With fyue hundred to haue attendaunce, On your persone alway where ye be, With all footmen that be in the Cyte, That shall awayte on you euer in one. Wherfore my lorde as fast as we are gone, Lowly I praye to your worthinesse, To sewe vs by good aduysenesse. Out at the towne alway eke that ye, Togyther kepe your knightes and meyne. This I beseche with all my full myght, Within the boundes where as we shall fight. That ye suffer none of theim passe, But kepe ye hole in the selfe place, Atwyxe vs and this stronge Cyte, If we haue nede that ye maye aye se, Vs to releue kepyng you asyde, And specially there for to abyde, Where most is lyckly our partye to sustene, For euer amonge there shal men go betwene, Of our exployt the trouthe to reporte. For which parte Mars lyst the fielde to sorte. Of his power this ilke daye fatall, For ye shal be our castell and our wall, And our refuge to saue vs from all smerte, And specially one thynge ye aduerte, That no deceyt fraude nor treasowne, Compassed be behynde to the towne, Of our foen through our recklesnesse, Whyles that we don hooly our busynesse, Agaynst theim in the fielde to fight. In all wise therto haue a syght. That nothynge tourne vnto our domage, Through their engine but worke as y^e sage, With victorye that we maye conclude, So that grekes with fraude vs not delude, By no engyne of vnware vyolence. Hopyng alway that it is none offence, To your highnes that I haue here sayde. And with that worde Pryamus abrayde, Beningely of cheare and countenaunce, And sayde Hector my sothfast suffysaunce, My fynall truste and supportacion, In thy discreat disposycion, Hooly I put as thou list ordaine, For next god if I shall not fayne, My fayth my hope and all my sikernesse, And my welfare in very sothfastnesse, Committed be hole into thy hande. And gouernaunce playnly of my lande, As thou ordaynest it must nedes be, And this prayer I make nowe for the, To the goddes aboue celestyall, The to preserue in partye and in all, From eche myschiefe and aduersyte, That thou mayst home ayene to this Cite, Repaire in honour with laude and victorye, So that the praise renowne and memorye, Of thy name be put in remembraunce, Perpetually thine honour to auaunce, And fare now well mine owne sonne deare.

And Hector tho with full humble cheare, His leue toke and forth he rode anone, Amonge his lordes & knyghtes euerychone, As he that was the roote of noblesse. Of knyghthode groūd of strengthe & hardy∣nesse The very stocke and therto inuincyble, For as muche as it was possyble. That nature myght to him graunt or kynde, Touchyng manhode in bokes as I fynde, He hadde in him soueraygne excellence, And gouernaunce medled with prudence. That nought asterte he was so wyse & ware, And in his shelde I fynde that he bare, Vpon his brest this Troian champyon, The chyefe of golde of gowlys a lyon, Depeynt therin and in his baner bete, The selfe same and so amydde the strete, He toke the waye to Dardanydes, That to beholde huge was the prese, Noyse of trumpettes and of claryons, Baners vnrolled and longe freshe penons, Of red and whyte grene blewe and blacke, And in this wyse Hector hath ytake, The felde wythout w^t herte and hole entente, As Mars him selfe had tho be presente. And they that he as Guydo maketh mynde, Rode with in warde that lefte was behinde, Of his manhode he would not abyde, But smote his stede sharply in the syde, Of fell courage he hath his horse so payned, The fyrste warde that he hath atayned. By vale and hylle tofore in the frounteres. Not astoned of the fell cheares, Of the grekes nor platly not aferde, But lyke a knyght euen afore theyr berde, He gan prease in as theyr foo mortall. ¶And in this whyle vpon Troye wall, In sondry places on the hygh toures, As freshe besene as May is with his floures, The ladyes be ascended of the towne. So fayre so yonge standinge enuyrowne, The quene Heleyne passyng fayre to sene, The kinges doughters & goodly Pollycene, And many other whych of womanheade, In herte weren full of busy dreade, Inly agaste and of feare afrayde, Whan they behelde in the fyelde displayde, The brode baners that some of tendernesse, Some of loue and some of kyndnesse. Pale and dreadfull for theyr lordes were. And some theyr faces hyden eke for feare, That were not bolde to lyfte vp theyr syghte, For to heholde the armure cleare and bryght, So glytterynge aye agayne the sonne shene, Theyr hertes tender myght not sustene, And in theyr dreade thus I lette theim dwel.

ANd of grekes forth I shall you tell. Yf so be ye list abyde but a whyle, For now must I my fordulled style, Agayne dyrect to Agamenon. Well maye I make an exclamacion, On ignoraunce that staunt so in my lyght. Which causeth me with a full cloudy syght, In my makynge to speken of the werre. For lacke of tearmes I must nedely erre, Conningly my wardes for sette, Cruell Alecto is busy me to lette, The nyghtes doughter blynded by derknesse, By crafte of armes the trouthe to expresse, In ordre dewe a felde to descryue. And Chauncer nowe alas is not alyue. Me to refourme or to be my rede, For lacke of whom slower is my spede, The noble Rethor that all did excelle, For in making he dranke so of the welle, Vnder Pernaso that the muses kepe, On which hylle I neuer yet might slepe, Vnneth slombre for whych alas I playne. But for all this there is no more to sayne, Though my wede be not pollymyte, As of coloures forth I wyll endyte, As it cometh euen to my thought, Playnly to write how y^e kinge hath wrought, The manly knight the great Agamenon. Lyke as the latyn maketh mencion. ¶What trowen ye that he in his entente, Was founde slowe other neclygente, On grekes halfe his wardes for to make, Nay nay not so for him lyst to wake, That tyme more sothly than to slepe, For lyke a kinge that daye the felde to kepe, No neclygence myght his herte fade, For in that daye I fynde that he made, Syxe and twenty wardes by and by, So well deuysed and so prudently, That no man might amende his ordynaūce. And of the fyrst he gaue gouernaunce.

To the manfull noble Patroclus, That w^t him ladde myn auctour telleth thus, Myrmydones so myghty and so stronge, With all the folke that to Achilles longe. Besyde thylke that were of his meyne, Whych that he brought out of his countre, At his cominge to the siege of Troye, And he rode forth with theim on his waye. Into the syelde and made no delaye. Now fell it so on the same daye, That Achilles kept him in his tente, And for sycknesse that daye out ne wente. For his lechesse made him to abstene, For his woundes freshe were and grene. That he caught on the daye tofore, Whych for to heale of theyr akyng sore, He by counsayle kept him selfe close, And from his bedde that daye not ne rose. In hope onely the better to endure, Whan that he was restored vnto cure, But all his men he toke to Patroclus, Which was in armes passyngly famous. And by discent come of great kynrede. And was also of hym as I reade, Hoboundaunt of golde and of rychesse. And ferre commēded for his gentilnesse, And had a name of hygh dyscrecion, ¶Now were they aye of suche affection, Of entyre loue trouthe and faythfulnesse, So great desyre and inwarde kyndenesse, Busy thynkyng and so great feruence, So much frendship w^t thoughtful aduertēce, So huge brennyng so passyng amerous, Betwyxt Achilles and this Patroclus. That theyr hertes were locked in a cheyne, And what soeuer if I shall not fayne, The tone hath wrought as brother vnto bro∣ther, In herte it was confermed of the other. For wyll and goodes weren both commune, And to the death they euer so contune, Without chaunge theyr loue so abode. ¶And Patroclus forth anone rode, Into the fyelde with Myrmydones, And in his tente abydeth Achilles. ¶The secounde warde to kinge Menon, Assygned was by Agamenon. ¶And to the worthy kinge Ydumenee, And to a Duke called Menestee, Thre thousand knightes in stele armed clene, Wyth all the folke that comen from Athene, Assygned were wyth theim for to go. ¶The thyrde warde to king Ascalapho. And to his sone that hyght Phylomene, With the knightes that came from Cumane, ¶The fourth warde without more lettynge, To Archelaus the noble worthy kynge, To Prothenor and to Securydan, Whych in his dayes was so stronge a man, Assygned was holly to these three, And all the knyghtes with theim for to be, Of Boece the myghty lande famous. ¶The fyfth warde to kinge Menelaus, With all the folke of the regyowne, Called Spertence of full high renowne, And of yles that were adiacent. All these with the baner wente, ¶Of Menelay freshe and couragyous, The .vi. warde to kynge Epystrophus, Was assygned and to the kinge Gelyde, With many worthy rydyng by his syde, Of the prouynce and the famous yle, That called is in Guydo Fordesyle. ¶The seuenth warde to Thelamonius, Called Ayax the great kynge famous, Was assygned shortly to termyne, With the folkes that from Salomyne, He with him brought and many another mo. And foure Earles with hym went also, ¶Theseus and eke Amphymacus, And the thyrde that called was Doxus, And the fourth named Polyxarye. The .viii. warde if I shall not tarye, By good aduyse that daye assygned was, Vnto the kinge that called was Thoas, ¶Ayax Cileus the .ix. warde tho ladde, And the tenth king Philoctetes hadde, ¶And to the kinge the .xi. he did assigne, That sothly was both of byrth and lyne, So renowmed and of so great encrease, The mighty kynge called Pallamides, Kinge Naulus son highest borne of blode, And Duke Nestor full famous in knighthod, The .xii. warde ladde on grekes syde. Melancolyke and surquedous of pryde. And kinge Honux son of one Maberte, Into the fyelde by hym selfe aparte, In ordre hadde of wardes the thyrtene, Proudly musterynge endlonge on the grene.

Agayne Troians redy for to fyght. ¶And eke the kinge that Vlyxes hight, Ladde with him the fourtene as I rede, ¶And eke Humelius the kinge did lede, The fiftenth mine auctour writeth thus. ¶And a Duke called Curibulus, The sixtenth had in gouernaunce that daye, In which the knightes of king Prothesylay, Assygned were by great ordinaunce, To enforce theim to do vengeaunce, Vpon the death of their worthy kinge. By Hector slayne at grekes ariuinge. ¶And kinge Rodus ladde the seuentene, And he that was the kinge of Occymene. ¶The eyghtenth warde had at his ledinge, He zantipus that was of Lyde kinge. Had to kepe committed to his garde, On grekes syde the .xix. warde. ¶And the twenty mine auctour lerneth vs, Had the kinge called Amphimacus. Like a kinge to guyde theim and to wysse. And Philoctetes that kinge was of Larysse, The one and twenty ladde eke as I reade, The two & twenty hadde king Diomede. ¶And Eneus kinge of Cyparye, That was whylom so noble and so worthy, The thre and twenty had in gouernayle. And the Troians proudly for tassayle, The .xxiiii. with swerde spere and shelde, ¶King Prothecatus lad into the felde. ¶And Carpenor of Carpedye the kinge, In werre expert and right wise in workynge, The fiue and twenty riche and well besayne, On grekes syde brought into the playne, ¶The syxe and twenty sothly and the laste, As he that could se afore and caste, Euerye thinge by good inspection, The wise kinge the great Agamenon, Had with him this prudent werriour, As he that was ordayned Emperour, Of grekes hoost as wysest of echone. ¶And in this wise forth the grekes gone, In the felde with pompe full royall, With thensignes and tokens marcyall. Haue take their grounde passingly araied, And on theyr standerdes richly tho displayed. Brode baners and many freshe penowne, Againe the winde y^e made an hidous sowne. And right dredfull playnly for to heare, And there men sawe many cristes cleare, And many tufte of golde and syluer shene, Meynt with fethers red, whyte, and grene. And deuises wonder meruaylous, And such of folkes as weren amerous. The tokens borne to shewe openly, How they in loue brent inwardly. Some high empryse that daye to fulfylle, And there were herde the loude noyses shryle, Ferre in the felde and the dreadfull sownes, Both of trumpettes and of claryownes, That kalendes bin of sheding out of blode, And with the noise almoste for rage wood, The fomy bridelles and the mouthes blede. And furious neyhing of many bastarde stede. ¶Praunsyng of horse vpon eyther syde, With the ensygnes that might be of pryde. On grekes partye and on Troye also, In knightly wise for to haue ado. Euery warde standing in his place. ¶The first asunder but a lytell space, Began to approche with all their ful entent, And Hector tho ful vnpacient, Formest of all on the syde of Troye, The yre of whom no man might accoye. But lyke a Lion in his hungry rage, Yssued out furyous of vysage, Towarde grekes on his mighty stede, That with his sporres made his sides blede. His knightly herte so inly was toforne, Of mortall yre and as he rode forne, Brenning full hote in his melancolye, The whych thinge whan grekes gan espye, ¶Patroclus then withouten more abode, Of surquedrye afore the wardes rode. Out all toforne in both hoostes syght. For to encountre playnly if he might, With worthy Hector whan he him sawe a fer, And as lyne right as is Dyameterre, Rode vnto him in his hatefull tene, And with a spere sharpe grounde and kene, Throughout his shelde tho of enuyous rage, He smote Hector without more domage. Except onely that the head of stele, That was afore whet and forged wele. Through plate & mayle mightly gan to glace But to the skinne for nothing might it race. Albe it came w^t passing violence, Yet to Hector it done hath none offence,

Out of his saddell ones him to flytte. For though that he sturdely him hitte, He might not backward bēd or bow his chine Nor on no partye make him to encline. ¶But fatally to his confusyon, This mighty man this Troian champion, In his Ire aye brenning more and more, Vpon him the hate aye fret so sore, Left his spere mine Auctour wryteth thus, And with a sworde rode to Patroclus, Auysed fully that he shall be dead, And furiously gan aymen at his head, And roue him downe there was no maner let Into the brest through his bassenet, As sayth Guydo with so great a payne, That with his stroke he parted him ī twayne His mortall swerde whetted was so kene. That Patroclus myght not sustene, Vpon his horse but fell downe to grounde, As he that caught his last fatall wounde. ¶Beyng present his knyghtes euerychon, And delyuerly vpon him anone, Worthy Hector from his stede adowne, Descended is like a wood Lyowne, Of hatefull yre brenning as the fyre, Hauing in hert inly great desyre, To spoyle him of his armure there anone. In which there was full many riche stone, Both of rubies and of Saphyres ynde, For that dayes playnly as I finde, Kinges lordes and knightes this no naye, To battayle went in their best araye. And sothly Hector whan he first gan se, The multitude of stones and perre, On Patroclus so oryent and sheyne, Vpon his arme he hinge his horse reyne, The meane while while he of hole entente, To catche his praye was so diligent. Of couetise in theyr alder syghtes. ¶Tyll king Menō w^t thre thousād knigh{is}, Armed in stele rounde about him all, Is sodaynly vpon Hector fall, The dead corps of Patroclus to saue. That his purpose Hector may not haue. At lybertye the riche kinge to spoyle, Which caused hym in angre for to boyle, To whom the king that called is Menon, Irous and wood sayde amonge echon, Oh gredy Liowne Oh wolfe most rauinous, Oh hatefull Tygre passing enuyous, Of aueryce Oh beast insaturable, And of desyre sothly vnstaunchable. ¶Vpon this praye thou shalt not now y^e fede. Go elles where to sewen for thy mede. For trusteth well in conclusyon, Fyfty thousande to thy destruction, Of one entent playnly will not fayle, Thine hatefull pryde attones for to assayle. And sodeynly with speres sharpe whet, On euery halfe they gan him besette. Maugre his force his might & his manhode. Enforsyng theim to reue him of his stede. That sothfastly of great violence, He was constrayned for all his strong defēce, As sayth Guydo to fall vpon his kne. But through his might and magnanimite. He of manhode hath his horse recured, And maugre grekes is so ferre assured, In his strengthe and in his great might, That he recured like a worthy knight, His stede agayne amiddes of all his foen, And right as lyne he rode to kinge Menon. Full desyrous on him auenged be. In his furye of hasty cruelte. For therupon was set his hole delyte, That in his mortall cruell appetite, In very sothe he had him slayne anone, Saue that the kinge that called was Glacō, Came him to rescue with kinge Theseus. And his sone that hight Archilogus. As I haue tolde Menon to reskewe. And thre thousande knightes gan him sewe, Full assented attones in battayle, For life or death Hector to assayle. In awayte vnware on him to set. But al this whyle with whō that euer he met, With his sworde he killed and bare downe. That fynally there gayneth no raunsowne, For any greke that durste with him mete, But or he went he felt it full vnswete, ¶He made a waye aboute him euery where, That they him fledde as the death for feare. For where he rode he made a patth ful plaine And as I reade to Patroclus agayne, He is repeyred to spoyle him if he might. Amid the felde in the grekes syght. As he that would his praye not lightly lete. Till Idume the mighty king of Crete,

With two thousande cladde in plate & mayle, Worthy knightes Hector to assayle, Whiles that he was so inly desyrous, As I haue tolde to spoyle Patroclus, And newe agayne to his confusion, Like as I finde came king Merion, And or Hector might of theim take hede, They of force reft him of hys stede. That sothly he there was none other boote, Compelled was for to fight on foote. And of knighthod his herte he resumeth, And w^t his swerde about him he consumeth, All that withstande both the horse and man. And furyously this Troian knight began, Armes legges and shoulders by the bone, To hewe of amid his mortall fone. That grekes might afore him not sustene, And as I reade that he slewe fiftene, Of theim that were busy him to take. And such a slaught he gan among thē make, That they ne durst abyde afore his face. ¶And Merion in the selfe place, This meane while toke vp Patroclus, With heuy cheare and face full piteous. And on his stede he layd it him beforne. And to his tente anone he hath it borne. Alway grekes in their cruell mode, About Hector furyous and wode, Felly abode fyghting vpon fote, Of which some felt it full vnsote. That presumed vpon him to presse. But of manhode they ne woulden cesse, Him to beset rounde on euery side. Hauing a trust in their great pride, Fynally at mischiefe him to take. For they dempt he might not escape, Their handes shortly by none aduenture, Nor his stede by lyklyhede recure, For of force they casten him to let. And all attones gan on him to set. And specially amonge theim euerichone, I finde in sothe how that there was one, A grekishe knight of right worthy fame, ¶And Carion playnly was his name, That him enforced Hector to oppresse, Whan he was most in mischiefe and distresse. Beset with grekes him enuyroning, Tyll of fortune aye on him awaytinge, The longe daye in that fell fight, To his rescuse there came a Troian knighte. Midde of grekes whan he was beset, And hent two dartes sharpe and kene whet, And furiously fyrst he shoke the toen, And through y^e herte he smote this Carion, That the darte into the felde gan glide. By playte & mayle throughout outher side. That fatally of that deadly wounde, This Caryon glode anone togrounde. Amonge an hundred knightes of his ferys. Afore conspyred with their fell chearis. To haue slayne Hector by some maner waye. But eft agayne this yonge knight of Troye, Full delyuer raughte another spere, And cast at one that he sawe yfere, Auaunce him selfe on Hector in the felde And through his plates playnly & his shelde, Line right that he ne should asterte, Of very might roue him through the herte. ¶And after that in all the hast he coude, Vpon Troians he gan to crye aloude, To enhaste theim knightly to succoure, Worthy Hector that stode in aduenture, Amonge grekes hauing no refute, Sole he him selfe of helpe destitute. At whych crye on grekes all vnware, ¶Fyrst of all came worthy Cincibare. That brother was to Hector borne in baste, Ridinge him selfe tofore in all haste. And y^e knightes of whom he tho was guyde, Wonder proudly pricking by his syde. Sodaynly together one and all, In a froshe be on the grekes fall, That had Hector rounde beset aboute. And through manhode of this great route, That be enbushed on theim at the backe. Thre hondred knightes of which y^t I spacke, For astoned gan theim to withdrawe. But thurty first cruelly were slawe. And maugre theim Hector of manhede, Amid the felde taken hath his stede, And entred is in amonge the prees, As he that daye of knighthode pereles. While he helde his blody sworde in hande, All tho that there in felde agayne him stande, There was no helpe playnly nor no rede, But that he brake and karfe a two the threde, And the knotte of cruell Attropos. Onely for he was let of his purpose,

At his leyser to spoylen Patroclus. Therfore in Ire wood and furious, Full cruelly grekes quytte he their mede. Whiche from his face faste gan them spede. Whose sharpe sworde bathed in theyr bloud, Was dyed red for it dyd hym good, Vpon them tho auenged for to be. For that daye a Lyon played he, Vpon grekes his manhode for to haunte. For he their pryde so mortally gan daunte, That they hym fledde where so that he rode, Makyng all hote the streintes of their bloud, Endlonge to renne and shede vpon y^e grene. ¶Tyll the tyme the duke of great Athene, That called was whylom Menesteus, With thre thousande knyghtes full famous, Of whom he was both lorde and guyde, The fyelde hath take vpon the lefte syde. For a deceyte in full secrete wyse. ¶Where Troylus was with y^e folke of Frise. Whiche hath that daye who so lyste to seke, By his knighthode kylled many greke. Lyke a Tygre gredy on his praye. Troylus bare hym all the longe daye, Sleynge of grekes many worthy knyght, And whyle that he was busyest in fyght, ¶Agayne his foen with kyng Antipus, And the kynge that hyght Alchanus, Vpon grekes ylyche freshe and newe, Making their sides all of blody hewe. By one assent these thre through their māhed, And specially vpon his bay stede, Where so euer that this Troylus rode, Euery greke that his sworde abode, Sodaynly he made for to sterue. Through their plates he gan so depe kerue. ¶And this continued tyll duke Meneste, Of Troylus sawe the great cruelte. And the slaughter that he of grekes made, Of hasty yre with face pale and fade, ¶Hent a spere and threwe it in the rest. And Troylus smytte euen amydde the brest, So sternely that maugre his renowne, To the earth anone he bare him downe. In the myddes of his mortall foen, That cruelly hym besette anone, And hym to treyne layde out hoke and lase, Rounde about in maner of compase. With spere & darte and swordes forged bright But he hym selfe deffendeth lyke a knight. With great manhode his honour to auaunce, Albe his lyfe was hanged in balaunce. Where he stode and felte full vnswete. In poynt of deth amonge the horse fete, With great awayte of duke Meneste, Howe this Troylus myght haue take be. Of mortall hate castynge in his thought, At myschyefe take that he escape nought. On euery halfe he was so besette, With sworde & spere kene grounde & whette. Alone alas mortally bestadde, They seased hym & forth they haue him ladde. Tyll Mesers a worthy knight of Troye, Gan to crye as he stode in the waye, Sore abashed in ryght furyous wyse, Oh ye noble worthy men of Fryse, Manly knightes aye preued in the fyelde, Moste renowmed both with spere and shielde Consyder now vnto your hyghe fame, And aduert the glorye of your name. How this daye throughe your neclygence, By the power and myghty vyolence, Of the grekes Troylus is ytake. Sool in the fyelde for ye haue hym forsake. That shall rebounde to your alder shame. For ye in soth greatly are to blame, If he that is of worthynesse the floure, Betake of grekes for lacke of your succoure. That but yf ye taken hasty wreche, Shameful reporte your honour shall apeche, Perpetually and saye therof amys, In your defaute that Troylus taken is. Whiche named be so worthy and famous, And with that worde the kyng Alcamus, Of melancolye felte his herte ryue. And in his yre hente a spere blyue, And pryckyng after enchasteth what he might Tyll he of them playnly had a syght. That busy were Troylus for to lede. And he full knyghtly syttyng on his stede, Ran one through that he fell downe dead, And efte agayne pale and nothyng redde, In his rancour no longer wolde he lette, But a greke the fyrste that he mette, Through the body smet he with a spere. That men myght se therof the poynt a fere. By brest and plate through the shulder bone, That to the ground he fel downe dead anone.

And tho forthwith the worthy Fryses all, Came flokmele downe and on the grekes fal, So myghtely that maugre their diffence, They sette vpon with so great vyolence, That Troylus is from all daunger free. And through their knightly magnanimyte, They maden hym there to recure his stede. And specially helpyng in this nede, Was zantipus the stronge manly kyng. Whiche of disdaine at his commyng, On Meneste he gan his spere grate. And through his shielde mayle & thicke plate, So sore he smote that this Meneste, Had be dead ne had his armour be. Whiche for Ire gan tremble tho and shake, That Troylus was from his handes take, And escaped to be prysoner. Dispyte his berde and maugre his power. Wherfore he gan of hasty hote enuye, On his knyghtes furyously to crye, That were so mighty renowmed and stronge, To payne them for to venge his wronge, Vpon Troyans to mete them in the face. ¶And they in hast gan mightely enbrace, Their sharpe speres grounde for to byte, And felly foyne and together smytte. ¶For tho began the great mortall werre, The fyre brast out shene as any sterre. On basenettes and their plates bryght, That through y^e fielde flaumeth y^e fereful light To lyfe nor death they toke tho no hede. And downe the plaine both in length & bredth The wardes gan proudly to auale. And with lokes ryght enuyously pale, They aproche and assemble yfere. In hate brennyng that no man may stere. And gan hurte with spere sworde and darte, And mortally vpon euery parte, The slaughter gan greatly for to rewe, And ylyche alwaye newe and newe, Hector grekes through his worthynesse, Where he rode manly dyd oppresse, And mercylesse slowe them and bare downe, Now here now there without excepciowne, So furyously that routhe was to see. ¶And then of new duke Meneste, Repayred is with full enuyous herte, From his hondes that Troylus so a sterte, And for the slaughter eke of his meyne, That where he rode busy was to slee. The troian people whan he myght them mete For him tauenge for nothyng wolde he lete. Tyll casually amonges all the prese, ¶A knight he mette that hyght Myseres. Whyche in dispyte of this Meneste, Had at the rescuse of worthy Troylus be. And maugre him put hym from his praye, And so befell on the selfe daye, As they mete agayne of aduenture, That Meneste by his cote armure, Marked hym by armes that he bare. And sodeynly or that he was ware, And or that he might taken any hede, Furiously on his mightye stede, And with a spere amyd the renges all, Bare hym ouer and made hym for to fall. Mauger his might to the earth adowne. ¶And than I fynde howe the kynge Hupon, Descended is the storye lyste not lye, Two thousande knyghtes in his companye, Whiche on grekes felly gan to sette. And in y^e berde kynge Prothenor them mette. And Archelaus the noble werryour, Of Boece the lorde and gouernour. With helpe onely of this Prothenor, Lyke to a Tygre or a wood Bore, Gan Troyans assaylen to the deth. And many one him selfe that daye he sleeth. But kyng Hupon through his chyualrye, Full fell that tyme in his melancolye, Full many greke gaue his dethes wounde. And thus they gan eche other to confounde. Such mortall hate amonges them there was Tyll of fortune a knyght Pollydamas, ¶On Troye syde sonne of Anthenor, With his knightes and hym selfe tofore, Is on grekes right enuious of pryde, Amyd their wardes fallen in a syde, And gan them breke & knightly to disseuer, Againe whose sword they might not perseuer, He was on them so inly furyous. ¶And him to helpe came the kyng Remus, With a wynge on that other parte, Breakyng in with many spere and darte, Agayne grekes with thre thousand knightes, That to beholde how felly that he fyghtes, It was in sothe vnto them of Troye, A very luste and heauenly aioye.

To see how grekes brake there asondre, That the noyse loude as any thonder, In the fyelde of strokes gan aryse. ¶And while Remus as ye haue herde deuise Vpon grekes was so enuyous, Into the fyelde came Menelaus, With his worthy knightes of Spartense, Agayne Remus to maken resystence. And full proudely makyng no delaye, This worthy Remus and kynge Menelaye, On horse backe with sharpe speres whette, Amydde the fielde byn together mette. And through their manly prowesse & renown, From horsebacke eche bare other downe. For none the stroke of other tho might shone. And in that whyle of Anthenor the sonne, Pollydamas lusty freshe and lyght, As he that was in his delyuer myght, And desyrous to honour to attayne, Mette in the fielde the neuewe of Heleyne, The mighty duke called Mereus. Flouringe in youthe and ryght vertuous. Freshe armed newe and lusty of courage, And was in sothe but twenty yere of age. Whyche of so yonge was a noble knight. Right renoumed bothe of herte and might. But of fortune it befell alas, The Troian knight Dan Pollidamas, With a spere throughe shelde maile and plate, Hytte hym so that by cruell fate, Amonge grekes that he fallen is downe dead Of whiche thyng when Menelaye toke hede, And sawe hym lye slayne on the grene, In his herte remembrynge on the quene, The quene Heleine to whom he neuewe was. For dole of which a full delyuer pas, To Remus rode in his cruelte, Also ferre as he might him se. And full knightly mette him in the berde, And smytte at him with his sharpe swerde, Vpon the head in his hatefull tene, That on his stede he might not sustene. His wounde was so passingly mortall, That with the stroke and the perillous fall, His knightes wende dead that he had be. ¶And hent him vp and began to fle, To Troye warde with him a great pase. ¶But it befell that Pollidamas, The maner of theim when that he behelde, Made theim repayre knightly into felde, Except that some as they in bidding hadde, Worthy Remus home to Troye ladde. Pale and dead with his woundes wide, And tho came in on the grekes syde, ¶Celydys the lusty freshe kinge. Of whom Dares sayeth in his wrytinge, And for a sothe in his boke lyst tell, How Celydys all other did excell, Both in beaute and in semelyheade. Of shape of porte and of goodlyheade, Surmounting all as Dares list descriue. As in fayrnesse all tho that time alyue, All his limmes compact were so clene. And as I rede the yonge freshe quene, Of feminye which was of beaute floure, Kinge Celidys loued as paramoure. That vpon him was hooly her plesaunce. He was so printed in her remembraunce. For chiefe resorte sothly of her herte, Was vpon him eche houre to aduerte. For fynally he departed nought, Day nor night nor houre from her thoughte. For he was fully all her owne knight. ¶But of fortune he lusty freshe and light, Smote his stede sharply in the syde, Of surquedrye and proudly gan to ryde, Of mortall hate a full furyous pase, Right as lyne to Pollidamas. And with a spere made him for to flytte, From his sadell in which he tho did sytte, He marked him with so great a might. And eft ayene this noble troian knight, Pollydamas with a despitous face, Or Celidys departed fro the place, With a swerde so smyt him on the heade, From his stede that he fell downe deade, Which to grekes was great confusion. And all this tune fierser than a Lyon, Hector grekes knightly gan enchase, And oft made theim for to lese their place. Where euer he rode of necessyte. Afore his swerde he made theim for so fle, Suche vengeaunce he hath on theim take. That they the felde were fayne to forsake, And to pursewe would he neuer fyne, Till amonge the people of Salomine, Hector met the worthy kinge famous, That was their lorde and hight Thesalus,

That many Troian that daye had yslawe. And as Hector towardes him gan drawe, Kynge Tenter eke that was of grece also, A manly knight and prudent both two, Raught a spere in all the haste he can, And at vnwares he to Hector ran, And through his shelde plate & mayle of stele, The speare head forged was so wele, So sharpe square and so kene ygrounde, That he to Hector gaue a perillous wounde. But as Hector tournen gan his stede, Proude Center to aquite his mede, He full wysely in all the haste he myght, Was ryght ferre seuered from his syght. Wherof Hector melancoleous, And of herte wood and furyous, For the akynge of the wounde grene, In haste tauenge the constraynte of his tene, What greke after shortly that he mette, That was so bolde his waye to with sette, Without mercy he was his death anone. And as I read he encountred one, Whiche of pryde his purpose wolde diuerte Whom with his sworde he roue to the herte, Through his herneys of melancolye. The whiche stroke whan grekes gan espye, They astoned of one entencyon, Peryllously be sette hym enuyron, And suche assaute gan aboute hym make, Though their manhod if they might him take And of accorde with great multitude, Cruelly they gan him to include, By lykelyhode in that mortall stryfe. He myght not escapen with the lyfe, On hym they were so fell and enuyous. Tyll that a kynge whiche hyght Theseus, On grekes syde onely of gentylnesse, Suche routhe caught vpon his dystresse, To se hym stande so nye vpon the wrake, Thus vnto hym of manly pety spake.

OH flour of knyghthode rote of hardynes, Welle of manhode stoke of worthynes, Whylyst ye not to haue none aduertence, Thy lyfe to saue of knyghtly prouydence. But wylfully where most is to drede, Thy lyfe Iupardest and take lyste no hede, In mortall peryll howe thou art besette, Amonge so many closed and yshette. Alone alas deuoyde of all socoure, And to thy selfe wylte do no fauoure, But as fortune lyketh to ordayne, That euery wyght ought to complayne, To beholde that suche a worthy knyght, Whiche through the world cast so clere a lyght In worthinesse and wyll him not withdrawe, Reklesly this day thus to be slawe, So pyteously thy persone for to lese, Withdrawe thy hande yet syth y^u mayst chese, Thy hygh prowesse compelleth me to preye, At suche myschefe that thou not ne deye. ¶And whan Hector of hym gan take hede, He thanked hym of his goodly hede, And maugre sothly the power and the myght, He from the grekes lyke a worthy knight, Eft scaped is mydde of all his foen. And went his way through them euerichone. His blody sworde alway in his honde, And in his waye Pollydamas he fonde, Full lyke a man with all his busy payne, Defende him selfe agayne the kinges twaine, Menelay and Thelamonius. Which vpon him were full furyous. And w^t a spere this greke this Thelamowne, Pollydamas smote to the earthe adowne. Compellyng him there was none other bote, Agayne theim two to fyght eu on his fote. Assented fully on him to be wroke. And fyrst they haue hewen and to broke, The mighty charnelle of his bassenet, And whan his vyser after was of smet, And his face naked was and bare, They fell on hym in that mortall snare, And haue him take the storye can deuyse, And sent him forth in full cruell wyse, Towarde grekes with many worthy knyght. But whan Hector therof had a syght, And sawe the myschefe of Pollydamas, He caste fully to socoure in this case, And prycked after wooder than Lyon, And where he rode aboute hym enuyron, With his swerde he made a large space, Tyll that he came to the selfe place, Amonges grekes furyous and wood, Pollydamas the selfe tyme stode, Socourles deuoyde of remedye, Tyll that he on Hector caste his eye, That grekes made hastely withdrawe,

And thirty fyrst of them hath he slawe. And seuered them maugre all their pryde, Tofore his sworde they durste not abyde. Agaynst hym nor make none obstacle. But of knighthode by very hyghe myracle, Pollydamas in myschyefe fyrste awhaped, From grekeshe hande frely is escaped. ¶But freshly tho the kynge Epystrophus, Menelay and Thelamonyus, With all their knyghtes togyther hole & close, Agayne Troyans to getten them alose, Be of new entred in battayle. With great strength and passynge apparayle, That mightely Troyans they compell, In their waye that they dare not dwelle. Notwithstandyng their great worthynesse. Nor of Hector the knightly hygh prowesse. That fought so manly that tyme as I read, But cowardly they haue slayne his stede, That he constrayned was to fyght on fote. That many greke felte full vnsote. For there was none that aboute hym stode, With his swerde that he ne shadde his bloud. Though he so thycke about was be layne. He voyded them and made a space playne. In compasse rounde behynde and eke afore, And on his fete so well he hath hym bore, That day. that greke was none certayne, That hardy was hande on hym to layne. He was so stronge and sturdy as a wall. And whan his brothern called naturall, Sawe hym a fote amyd of all his foen, On a frushe they fell in euerychon, And founden hym the story maketh mynde, Deffende him selfe as Tygre doth in Inde. And him to helpe through their high renown, They fallen fyrst on kyng Thelamowne. For he on Hector was so cruell founde. They gaue to hym many blouddy wounde. Tyll one of them named Dyndaron, Hath so ferre amonge the renges gone, And bore hym so only of manhead, That he hath wonne a passyng myghty stede. ¶And brought to Hector sothly there he stode Amonge grekes all bathed in their bloud. The whiche in haste ful knightly he be strode, And thē amonge lyke Mars himselfe he rode. Full many greke makyng for to sterue. And with this sworde whetted for to karue, He daunted hath their enuious pryde. Tyll Deyphobus entred in a syde, Into the fyelde with a knightly chere, And with hym brought many good archer, Of Boeme whiche with their arrowes kene, And with fethers of Pecock freshe and shene, Vpon grekes haue the fyelde recured. In their shotte they were so muche assured. That through mayle and thicke plate of stele, They perced haue their harneys euery dele. ¶And Deiphobus full lyke a manly man, To kynge Tentran on horse backe tho ran. And furyously gan his swerde enbrace. And wounded hym euen amyd the face. Through the vyser in his felle tene. On horse backe that he myght not sustene, And thus on grekes the Troyans are yron, That they agayne hath the fielde ywonne. They were on them so yrons and so wood, But Theseus full knightly them withstode, With the knightes that he with him ladde, ¶And as I read Hector a brother hadde, The story sayth that hyght Quintilene, Yonge freshe and lusty armed bryght & shene, Whiche with the kinge called Modernus, Is proudely falle vpon Theseus, And these twayne togither of assent, Be falle on hym with great aduisement, That fynally to his vnhappy chaunce, With their knyghthode broughte hym to out∣traunce, And cast shortly that he shalbe dead. Of whose purpose as Hector gan take hede, He vnto them of very gentery, With all his myght loude gan to crye, Besechyng them for nothyng that he deye. And lowely they his byddyng dyd obeye. And them withdrewe for to do vengeaunce, For Hector had fully remembraunce, Now Theseus the same daye tofore, Towarde hym so goodly had hym bore, Whan he hym sawe in mischyefe and dystresse, And knightly thought quyte his gentilnesse. Lyke as it longeth to euery gentylman. ¶And Theseus full lowly tho began, To thanke Hector that he was escaped. ¶But kyng Thoas tho hath faste yraped, Into the fyelde with other knightes many, And specyally with them of Calydony, ¶Came Phyloctetes the myghty kinge also,

Agayne the Troyans for to haue ado, And fyrst Thoas with a spere ran, ¶Furyously to Cassybellan, One of the sonnes of kynge Pryamus. And gaue hym tho a wounde so greuous, Without recure that he fell downe dead. Of whiche stroke when Hector gan take hede In his herte gan his death complayne, And in all haste dyd his busy payne, On his brother auenge him if he myght, And many one he made to a lyght, Through his knighthod from his horse backe That sothfastly all went to wrake, On grekes syde what came in his waye. So worthely he bare hym all that daye. ¶Tyll duke Nestor is entred in to fyght, With fyue thousande in stele armed bryght, Agayne the Troyans grekes to socoure, And with hym mette of very auenture, ¶The kynge Esdras so mighty and so bolde, And kyng Phylon in his chare of golde, With all the worthy noble chyualrye, That from Agresta came with Iaconye, The kynges sonne of the same lande, Full renowmed and worthy of his hande. And as they semble and together ran, The same tyme many worthy man, Hath loste his lyfe vpon eyther syde. And of the slaught with large woundes wyde All the soyle of bodyes that laye dead, Lyke a ryuer ran with streames red. With their cheres grysely pale and fade, That in the bloud men might go and wade, To the ancle the slaughter was so huge. ¶And kyng Phylon socour and refuge, Vnto Troyans so bare hym in that stryfe, That many greke he made lese his lyfe, The same day so well his sworde was whette. But he vnwarely was so sore besette, With multytude of grekes rounde aboute, That of his lyfe he playnly stode in doubte. For lykely was he myght not escape, And of grekes he shulde anone be take, Ne had the helpe be of worthy Iaconye, That to Esdras loude gan to crye, Alas quod he of routhe and pyte, ¶Worthy Phylon the kyng shall taken be. Amonge grekes through your necligence, But in all haste ye do your diligence, For to rescue this noble worthy kynge. And all attones without more taryinge, Maugre all tho that maden resystence, From grekes swerde by myghty vyolence, They haue rescued the noble kyng Phylon. And at his large with them he is gone. Of his escape wonder gladde and lyght. ¶And Hector than with many lusty knight, Retourned is and Deiphobus also, Pollydamas and many an other mo, Of Troyan knightes that desyre newe, To causen grekes sore for to rewe. For of assent they fully them purpose, In suche mischiefe grekes to enclose, That if they might fewe shulde escape. And therupon knightly they them shape, And them began freshely for to assayle, That in the fielde grekes gan to faile, Of their power and to lese their lande. That fynally through the mighty hande, And the force of the Troyan knightes, The grekes had maugre all their mightes Be brought that day to confusyowne. ¶But Menelay and kyng Thelamowne, When they them sawe febly and apeyre, They of knyghthode made them to repeyre, And so lyke men they haue thē selfe deffended, Tyll Eneas from Troye is descended. With Ewfremus the duke the manly man, And with their knightes of newe they began, Efte agayne grekes to oppresse. And Hector aye through his worthynesse, Lyke a Lyon with a sterne face, Euer in one so gan them to enchace, That compelled of great necessytye, They were echone afore his sworde to fle. And constrayned ryght of very nede. Of whiche thynge when Ayax gan take hede, He had in herte great compassyon, To se the slaughter and confusyon, On grekes syde Guydo maketh mynde. And gan to loke at his backe behynde, And sawe where many warde stode abrode, And many baner and penowne that abode, Amyd the fielde hole and not for broke, That redy were attones to be wroke, If nede were on them of Troye towne, In whiche wardes without excepciowne, Was hole the floure of grekes chyualrye.

¶To whom anone Ayax gan him hye, As he that was in herte sore agreued, And with his crye he hath thē so commened, That they in haste theim comen to reskuse, Amonges whom was there no reffuse, And as fast as they gan assemble, Of noyse of horse the earthe gan to tremble, Furyously as they together flynge. There might men the strokes heren ringe, Of speres sharpe through the harneys borne, And through sheldes wrought of stele & horn Into the brest sturdy square and brode. ¶And there I fynde how that Ayax rode, ¶To Eneas and he to him also, So great enuye was atwyxe theim two, That not but death might their ire apease. For in herte nother might haue ease, Tyll with speres sharpe ground and whette, On horse backe they togyther mette, And at copyng so sore haue they hytte, That eueryche other to the earth smytte. That to beholde was a knightly syght. And after they bothe on foote fyght, By lyklyhead tho in theyr wood rage, Other to fall in full great domage, Amonge the horse bycause that they stode, Vpon the soyle all ouer spredde with blode. ¶But Phyloctetes is to Ayax come, And hath him vp amonge the horse ynome, That knightly fought as made is memorye, For sothly elles Troians with victorye, Had had the fyelde playnly for to sayne. Tyll Philoctetes with his wardes twayne, Euen in the face manly theim withstode. And with a spere he fyrst to Hector rode. And vpon him the shafte I fynde he brake, But sothly he vpon his horse bake, Kept him so well for all that fell stroke, Remeuinge not but sturdy as an oke, Sat in his sadell vpryght with his chine, And wyth a spere ryght as any lyne, Into the body depe through the shyelde, Philoctetes he smote into the fielde, That of his lyfe hys knightes were in doubt. ¶But tho came in with so great a route, ¶Kynge Humerus and Vlixes eke, And with them brought many worthy greke. Ten thousād knightes manly men echone, That gan Troians for to assayle anone. And cruelly on euery halfe certayne, With multytude they haue theim so belayne, That dispayred and disconsolate, And of longe fyght a waped and a mate, Gan withdrawe faynted in battayle, And eke theyr horse sothly gan to fayle, That on theyr syde all went vp so downe. ¶But Parys tho with them of Troy towne, Is entred in in ful manly wyse, And fyrst he mette with the kynge of Fryse. That to Vlyxes nye was of allye, Whom Parys smote with so great enuye, That he hym slewe wherof grekes were, Sore abashed and after wyth a spere, ¶Vlyxes rode to auenge him if he might. And fyrst when he of Parys had a syght, Into the brest he gan his spere throwe, That fynally for he bare to lowe, Fayling of Parys sothely as I reade, Vnder him he slewe his mighty stede. That maugre him he to grounde is gone. And he on him would haue fall anone, ¶But Troilus tho mette him in the berde, And furyously with his sharpe swerde, He smote Vlyxes throughout his viser. That lyke a condyte or a small ryuer, Downe by his face of bloud the streames ran. But Vlyxes tho lyke a manly man, Of that stroke astoned not at all, But on his stede stiffe as any wall, With his swerde so mightely gan race, Through the vmber into Troylus face. That he him gaue a large mortall wounde, Of which stroke passingly ioycounde, The grekes were supposing in theyr thought, How Troians fynally were brought, Vnto outtraunce and sothly so they hadde, Saue that Hector w^t knightes which he lad, And with him Parys and Deiphobus, And al his brethern ī knighthod most famous Troylus also for all his laste wounde, That was alway so noble knight yfounde. All at ones be ioyned into one, And vpon grekes sodaynly be gone. ¶And worthy Hector alder fyrst began, Grekes to enchase that afore him ran, Like as beastes that fledde fro the death, And euer in one thus he killeth and sleyeth, Whom he mette or durst his stroke abyde.

And on his foen with freshe woundes wyde, The slaught he made alway to renewe, And thylke daye in blody rosen hewe, He hath theyr plates & their harneys steined, And thought it had bloud from heauē rained. The soyle redder might not tho a ben, And aye ylyche as a swarme of been, The grekes flockmele fledde out of his way. And Guydo sayth that all that ylke daye, Hector had formest on the playne, In the frounter of the grekes layne. That behynde the knyghtes of his garde, For lacke of hym were all out of warde. Wherfore when he had sought full longe, And grekes sawe of new wexen stronge, To his knyghtes he is agayne repeyred. Whych in theim selfe greatly were dispayred, For his absence. but tho when they him se, Full inwardly recomforted they be, And with glad hert haue theyr lorde receiued. And theyr gladnesse when he hath perceyued, ¶Spake vnto theim full affectiously. And lykewyse prayed theim full beningly, To remembre knyghtly in their herte, And consyder wysely and aduerte, First the wronges that grekes haue them do. Of yore ago and ouermore also, If grekes had that daye the victorye, Farewell for aye the honour and glorye, Of Troyan bloud in conclusyowne. For fynally we and eke our towne, Shall mortally tournen to ruyne. And our honour that was wont to shyne, Throughout the world and our worthinesse, Eclipse shall and tournen to dercknesse. But ye this daye lyke as men you quyte. Wherfore I praye that no man ne atwyte, Your hygh renowne of any cowardise, To sette vpon in full manly wise, And not to spare for dread of death I praye. ¶And they echone full lowly gan obeye, To his desyre withouten longer tale. And entryng in by a certayne vale, Vpon grekes these worthy knyghtes all, Folowing Hector sodaynly be fall, Full mortally or that they were ware. And Hector tho no greke would spare, But euery where to theyr confusyon, He killed and slewe aboute him enuyron. And his knyghtes riding by his side, Made theyr foen maugre all their pryde, To lese their lande & flewe out of their sighte. ¶Tyll that the kinge which y^e Thoas hight, On grekes syde inwarde gan him dresse, And of newe fulll knyghtly gan oppresse, Them of Troye this knight this manly mā. ¶That had afore slayn Cassybellan, One of the sonnes of king Pryamus. But as he rode of fortune it fell thus, That all the brethren on a frushe he mette, Which of assent enuyron him besette, And from his sadell that many greke beheld, Amonge the horse smyt him into felde. And of they rente first his basenet, And cruelly they had his head of smet. For he vnarmed all at myschief stode. ¶Saue that the Duke furyous and wood, Of Athenes riding tho a great pase, Reskued him in this mortall case, With his knightes that about him rode. And him to helpe without more abode, With a spere sharpe whet and kene. ¶Fyrst of all he fell on Quintiline, That busy was Thoas to haue slawe. And the bretherene made also withdrawe, Whan Quintiline of his horse was throwe. ¶But Parys thē drewe vp his mighty bow, And to this Duke let an arowe glyde. And through his plates hit him in the side, Vpon a rybbe that made him sore to blede. Of whych stroke he ne toke no hede, Bycause onely that he so feruent was, Amid his foen to helpe thus kinge Thoas, Amonge the horse that was bore to grounde, In poynt of death with many mortall woūd. Onely for he was naked on the head. But this Duke fully deuoyde of dread, Of his knighthod in this perillous case, Amid his foen hath holpe the king Thoas, And with his lyfe made him scapen fre. And Hector aye of cruell enmitee, Iliche freshe for nothing would leue, Vpon grekes his manhode for to preue. Enforsing him to their destructiowne. ¶And as he rode amonge theim vp & down, ¶Kinge Humerus hath a bowe take, And to shote gan him redy make. And hatefully therin set an arowe,

And to Hector he marked hath so narowe, That he smote him euen amid the face. But or he might any ferther pace, Hector smyt him with so great a payne, That w^t his swerd he roue his head atwayn. ¶The death of whō when the grekes know. Mine auctour saith they haue an horn yblow That vnwarely with that dreadfull sowne, Seuē thousād knight{is} came at ones adowne About Hector without more abode. But of force through theim all he rode. Maugre theyr might that him tho withsette. And slowe all tho that his way lette. And would do stynt playnly tyll he came, To his father the worthy kinge Pryam. With many worthy full famous of renowne, That wyth his knyghtes fast by the towne, Laye all the daye with men on horse & foote, As he that was of knighthod crop and roote, And kept him close in full high prudence, Tyll Hector came vnto his presence, And him besought in this great nede, With thre thousand that he would him spede, Vpon grekes in theyr full rage, To fall on theim at most auauntage.

ANd thē in haste this worthy Priamus, With his knightes freshe & desyrous, Towarde grekes hath the waye ytake, And such a mordre gan vpon theim make, That many grekes laye dead on the playne. For Pryamus hath theim so sore belayne. On euery halfe through his great might, That they full fast fledde out of his syght. So sore of newe he vpon theim sette. ¶And as I fynde they tohether mette, ¶Hector and Ayax of cruell auenture. And on their stedes stronge and wonder sure, The storye sayth in all the haste they konne, Lyke wood Lyons they together ronne. With so great might y^t were they lefe or lothe, Vpon the playne they were vnhorsed bothe. ¶And in this whyle Menelay the kinge, Sodaynly as he camen ridinge, He slewe of Troye a worthy admyrall. And thus the slaughter passingly mortall, Renewed aye for that Celidonas, The neuewe slewe of the kinge Thoas. And Madā met mine auctour writeth thus, A grekyshe kinge called Cedeus. Which w^t his swerde such a stroke him sette, That through y^e vmber out his eye he smette. ¶And Sardellus that was of Troye eke, The same whyle slewe a worthy greke, A lorde of name and of high prowesse, Although Guido his name doth not expresse. ¶And then also came Margaryton, On Troye side agayne Thelamon, And both two inly set a fyre, Of high disdayne and of hatefull yre. As they met on horse backe both yfere, Kinge Thelamon sothly as I lere, Gaue vnto him a deadly wounde cruell. ¶But tho came in the Troian Phanuell. And Prothenor smote downe of his stede, And thus the sones playnly as I reade, Of Pryamus nothing nat dismayde, The grekes haue on euery parte outrayed. And so knightly all the daye theim borne, That many greke fatally hath lorne, His life in sothe of hate and enmyte. And kinge Anglas is fall on Meneste, Of Athenes Duke and gouernoure, And with a spere of yre and olde rancoure, He ran and smet him tho amyd the shyelde. But for al that his sadell yet he helde. ¶And for that the Duke spere had none, He with a swerde to Anglas rode anone, And through y^t owmber roue of nigh his nase That he astoned stode as in a mase, When that he sawe the condyte of his blode, So streame out but for all that he rode, Out asyde fully deuoyde of feare, Vnto the time that he staunched were. ¶But Deamor his owne brother deare, When he behelde his mortall blody cheare. ¶Of high disdayne he rode to Meneste, And him vnhorseth but vp anone sterte he, And or he might fully vp aryse, Another brother in full creuell wyse, Is fall on him so that of them thre, Attones weten vpon Meneste, Fully in purpose he shall lese his lyfe. But he so knightly bare him in that stryfe, Agaynst theim that wonder was to se. And vpon him most cruell of theim thre, Was one Thoas eldest of echone. Which him to sleye was busy euer in one.

For all to broke they haue his basenet, ¶But when that Tenter sawe him so beset, A grekishe kinge as made is mencion, Had in his herte great compassyon, And thought playnly of manhode him releue And if he might his fomen for to greue. But all for nought was his busy payne, For Hector tho fallen is on both twayne, ¶Vpon Tenter and on Meneste, ¶And had theim slayne ne had Ayax be. Which vnto Hector faste gan him hye, A thousande knightes in his companye, Him to withstande and Meneste to saue. From his handes if he might him haue. ¶But Parys tho and the king of Perce, With fiue thousande as I can reherse, Of worthy knightes and many troian mo, Be vnto Hector all at ones ygo. In thryfty wise cydyng on a rowe, For Parys made a trumpet to be blowe, At whych there came knightly enbattayled, Many Troian full well apparayled, Whych in the fielde of Hector were conueyed. For of one herte they fully haue obeyed, Vnto the bydding of this Troian knight, All freshe and newe to begyn a fyght, Vpon grekes as ferre forth as they can. Of whom was slayne many manly man. And aye the slaughter pyteously reneweth, That many greke sore in herte reweth, Theyr great losse and destructiowne, Wrought vpon thē by theim of Troye towne. And specially of Hector as I finde. Whych on that day as Dares maketh minde, With his hande a thousande knightes slowe. That neuer were adawed of their sowe, For greke none dare in his waye dwell. For w^t his swerde he coud theim so compell, To lese theyr grounde of necessyte, And lyke as shepe afore the wolfe to fle. ¶And as I reade amiddes this victorye, Hector hath met vnder a Tentoree, ¶Amonges grekes Mereon the kinge. To whom he spake without more tarying. Oh thou tratoure thy houre aprocheth faste, For thou art come sothly to thy laste, Thy fatall daye hath his course yronne, For truste well or westrynge of the sonne, I caste platly to quyten the thy mede. And with my swerd in haste thy bloud to shed. For thou so bolde were on me to daye, Me to disturben of my ryche praye, At the spoylyng of kinge Patroclus. That for cause thou were presumptious, Me to disturbe thou shalt anone be deade. And downe he sterte & smote of first his head. ¶And him to spoyle also gan him haste. ¶But Meneste came on him as faste, Whan he behelde trauerse at his backe, And w^t a spere in which was no lacke, Smote him in with so great violence, Without syght or any aduertence, Of worthy Hector or any takyng hede, The wound of whom sore gan to blede. But out he went and made it faste bynde. ¶And Meneste stale away behinde, Not in purpose sothly if he maye, To mete Hector of all that ylke daye. ¶But when that he was ybounde sore, His wound to staunche that it blede no more, More furyous than he was erst tofore, Repeyred is with angre al to tore, So aye the yre on his herte fret. That he bare downe all that euer he met. Slayth and kylleth he was so mercyles, All tho that put theim selfe in the prease, Or hardy were wyth hym for to mete. For in his boke lyke as wryte Darete, For very sothe and in the storye sayth, If it be so that men may gyuen fayth, And full credence of possybylyte, As in Guydo clearly ye may se, After that he caught his latter wounde, Fynally the grekes to confounde, So as it is affermed in certayne, A thousand knight{is} w^t his hande were slayn, Without theim tho that I spake of rathe. And newe alway he gan his swerde to bathe, In grekes bloud that sodaynly they be, So ouerlayne through his cruelte, That greke was none of high nor low estate, That he ne was awhaped and amate, Of his knighthod and manly excellence. For there was none to maken resystence, Nor vtterly that durste take on hande, Of all that daye Hector to wythstande. ¶And as is made also mencion, Thylke daye kyng Agamenon,

As sayth Guydo came not into felde, For causes great his presence he withhelde, On grekes syde that al goeth vp so downe, Hector on them so playeth the wood Liowne. That to theyr tentes they fledde for socours, And they of Troye proudly as victours. Sewed after theim by traces of theyr bloud, And there they wan treasour and great good. And spoyled theim in full great dystresse, Of their armure and of theyr richesse, And fell on theim or that they were ware, And home to Troye all that good they bare. For fynally that daye wyth myschaunce, Grekes had be brought vnto outraunce, Without recure in sothe for euermore, On euery parte they were belayde so sore, Through the manhode of Hector & y^e mighte, With helpe of many other worthy knyght, That so felly agayne the grekes wrought, For to such mischief playnly they thē brought, That ne had be theyr owne pyteous slouthe, Of pryde onely and of folye routhe, They had of theim at theyr volunte, That daye for euer had the soneraynte. And recured through theyr hygh renowne, Lordshyppe of theim and dominacyowne, Whych shoulde haue laste and be continuall, Victoryously and perpetuall. Haue endured saue that cruell fate, Is redy aye with fortune to debate, Agayne thynges that gynne in wilfulnesse. To make theim fine aye in wretchednesse. Through theyr enuyous disposytion, Of sodayne chaunce and reuolucion, And vnware tourning of her false whele, That wyll not byde when a thinge is wele. Alas freyle deuoyde of sykernesse, The cause was dimmed so with dercknesse, That hath troians through false opynyon, Yblinded so in theyr discrescion. And specially fordercked so the syght, Of worthy Hector the prudēt manly knyght. To se afore what shulde after sewe, By good aduyse the mischyefe to eschewe. That folowed theim at the backe behinde. Alas they were wilfully made blynde. The same daye when they sytten softe, By victorye on the hill alofte. That they ne could of neclygence not se, The after fall of theyr felycite. So put abacke was theyr aduertence. For lacke of reason and of high prudence. For they their hap haue voided & theyr grace, That presently were set afore theyr face. For in a man it is not commendable, If fortune be to him fauorable, And blandeshing with a forhead cleare, To smyle on him with a plesaunt cheare, Onely of fauoure for to helpe him oute, When he in myschyefe is beset aboute, If he refuse his hap of wylfulnesse, Fortune auoyding through vnkindnesse, Whan she ministreth to him of her grace, Another tyme he shall not her embrace. Whan he hath nede to her helpe at all, To succour him or he catche a fall. But rather then for his ingratitude, Frowardly with mowes him delude, Whan he best weneth to stande in sikernesse. Fortune is aye so full of brotilnesse, Remouable and ready for to flytte. ¶Her welfull houre y^t who lyst not admytte, With her fauour for to be allyed, Another time it shall be denied, When he were leuest finde her fauorable. For in some houre sothly this no fable, Vnto some man she graunteth his desyres, That will not after in a thousande yeares. Peraunter ones condescende, Vnto his will nor his lust him sende. ¶As it hath fall this daye vnhappely, To worthy Hector that so wilfully, Wrought of head grekes for to spare, Fatally when they were in snare. For he of theim lyke a conquerour, With victorye tryumphe and honour, Might haue brought thrugh his hye renown The palme of conquest into Troye towne. Which he that daye refused folylye. ¶For as he rode this Hector cruelly, Amonges grekes slowe and bare all downe, Casually he mette Thelamowne, I meane Ayax nygh of his allye, That of hate and cruel hote enuye, To Hector rode lyke as he were wood, Albe to him he was full nygh of bloud. Yet for all that this yonge lusty knight,

Dyd his power and his full myght, Without fayning to haue borne hym downe. Whose father hyght also Thelamowne, That hym begat the storye telleth vs, Of Eryon syster to Pryamus. And this Ayax flourynge in yonge age, Freshe and delyuer and of great courage, Sette on Hector of knyghtly hygh prowesse. And as they met both in theyr woodnesse, On theyr stedes these manly champyons, Eueryche on other lyke Tygres or Lions, Began to fall and proudly to assayle, And furyously seuere plate and mayle. First with speres longe large and rounde, And afterwarde with swerdes kene ygroūde. And fyghtyng thus longe they do contune, Tyll it befell of case or of fortune, Token or sygne or some apparence, Or by natures kyndly influence, Whych into hertes doth full depe myne, Namely of theym that borne be of one lyne. Whych cause was peraunter of these twane. Naturally theyr rancour to restrayne, And theyr yre for to modefye, Onely for they so nygh were of allye, Vnwyst of other and therof vnsure, Tyll they were taught onely of nature. For naturally bloud wyll aye of kynde, Drawe vnto bloud where he may it fynde. Whych made Hector kyndely to aduerte, To be meued and stered in his herte, Both of knyghthod and of gentilnesse, Whan he of Ayax sawe the worthynesse, ¶Spake vnto him full beningnely. And sayd Cosyn I saye the trewly, If thou lyst grekes here forsake, And come to Troye I dare the vndertake, To thyne allyes and to thy kynrede, Thou shalt be there withouten any dreade, Full well receyued in partye and in all, Of theim that be of the blode royall, Sothly decended and hyghest of degre. That it of ryght shall suffyse vnto the, And kyndely be to the great plesaunce, For to repayre vnto thyne allyaunce, Of gentyll herte sythe nothyng is so good, As be confedered with his owne bloud. For I conceyue by thy worthynesse, Whych nature doth kyndly in the impresse, Of Troian bloud that thou art descended. Whych of grekes longe hath be offended. Wherfore I reade to leue theim vtterly, And he aunswered agayne full humbly, That sythen he of byrthe was a greke, And was of youthe among them fostred eke, From the tyme of his natiuitye, And taken had the ordre and degre, Of knighthod eke amonges theim aforne, And ouer this bounde was and sworne, To be trewe as to theyr nacion. Making of bloud none excepcion, He swore he would conserue his beheste. And to Hector he made this requeste, That if that he of manfull gentilnesse, Would of knyghthod and of worthinesse, Shewe vnto hym so great affectiowne, To make theim that were of Troye towne, Onely withdrawe grekes to pursewe, And for theyr tentes make theim to remewe, And resorte agayne vnto the towne. Of knighthode routhe and compassyowne, Without assaylynge or anye more affraye, Made on the grekes for that ilke day, Sythe vnto theim ought ynoughe suffyse, That of the fielde in so knightly wyse, They were of manhead fully possessours, And of theyr fomen fynally victours, Like as tofore fully is defyned. To whose request Hector is enclyned. Alas the while of hasty wilfulnesse, And made anone without auysenesse, Amydde the fielde trumpet for to blowe, Wherby Troians fully mighten knowe, His wil was that they shulde thē withdrawe, After custome playnely and the lawe, And the vsaunce both of nyghe and ferre. Amonges them that be experte in werre. Whan they were moste feruent for to fyght, Vpon grekes for to preue their might. And had them chaced lowe to the stronde, That they were weake of power to withstāde For they of Troye all of one desyre, Gan sette on with shotte of wylde fyre, To brenne their shyppes & of high mischaūce, Fynally to put them at outtraunce. ¶And so they had this the very trouth, Ne had Hector had vpon them routh, Makyng Troyans repayre ayene to towne,

Vngraciously to their confusyowne. As the story shall after specifye, For tho he put alas in iupardye, Lyfe & death whiche elles might haue be sure, And whiche againe they shall neuer recure.

¶How the grekes through their suite optey∣ned of kyng Pryam a trewce for eyght wekes and of their battayles after the trewce ended. Capitulo .xxiii.

THey haue matter to complaynen sore, For fro that daye farewell for euermore, Laude victory and fro them of the towne, To them denyed by disposyowne, Of mortall fate whiche contrarye, In this matter me lyste no lenger tarye. For they of Troye be entred their Citie, And shet their gates for more suretie, For of that daye lyke as made is mynde, Thus was the ende in Guydo as I fynde, They wende haue done peraunter for the best. ¶And when the sonne was ygo to rest, They toke their ease all that ylke night, Tyll on the morowe Tytan clere and bryght, Shadde his beames on their hemispherye, Makyng the daye for to shewe merye. At whiche tyme Troyans anone right, They that were hole and lusty for to fyght, Gan arme theim in purpose full that daye, Their foen to mete platly if they maye. For that was hole their wyll & playne entent. And eke they had in commaundement, Tofore of Hector redy them to make. Out of their slepe a morowe whan they wake Of whiche thynge they were not neclygent, But to Pryam the grekes haue ysent, There messangers the same day or pryme, To take trewce onely for the tyme, Of eyght wekes the whiche Pryamus, With Hectors wyll the story telleth thus, Hath graunted them and by auctoritye, Of all the wyse that were in the Citie. In whiche tyme whyle they leyser haue, The grekes gan to burye and to graue, The bodyes that afore weren slawe, Lyke their rytes in their paynem lawe. With all their might and their busy cure, For some brent and some by sepulture, Enclosed were lyke their estate in all, And thus they helde the feast funerall, Fro day to day duryng aye the peace. ¶In whiche space I fynde how Achelles, Of Patroclus the death hath sore playned. As he that was with teares all be rayned, So inwardly he loued hym in herte. That for the anguyshe and the cruell smerte, He longe abode in lamentacion, And dyd make by great affection, A large toumbe for a remembraunce, Myd the fielde as tho was the vsaunce, Amonge grekes with great reuerence. Lyke the honour and the excellence, ¶Of royall burying. so this Patroclus, Ygraue was and Protheselaus, In their toumbes korue of marbyll graye. And nye together in a playne they laye. The werke about them rychly was ywrought And to the earth they were together brought. Solempnely lyke the obseruaunces, Of their rytes with the circumstaunces, Of grekes vsed sothly in tho dayes. Fro poynt to poynt as longeth to their layes. Of suche as weren of estate royall, So holden was the feast funerall, Of these two whyles the trewse doth laste. ¶And they of Troye busyed them full faste, With all their might and their bufy eure, The grene hurtes and woundes for to cure. By their aduyse that were in surgerye, Full well experte to shapen remedye, Their swolle sores to soften of their payne. That in the space of these monthes twayne, They were restored to helth in euery thynge, In whiche time Priamus the kinge. ¶Suche sorowe made for Cassybellan, In his herte that no wyght ne can, Hym recomforte of his heuinesse. For day by day of inwarde tendernesse. Full pyteously he gan to sobbe and wepe. ¶And the body he made for to kepe, Aboue the earth for a certayne space, Tyll he had chosen out some worthy place, To his burying and his sepulture, And as Guydo vs fully doth assure, ¶In Venus temple ryche as any shryne, He made his men a toumbe for to myne, In marbell greye and metall rychely,

In whiche he put full solempnely, The dead corps of this Cassybellan. Beinge present full many manly man. In the phane of Cytherea. The whiche thynge when that Cassandra, Within her selfe consydered and behelde, And sawe vp offred his helme & eke his shelde, His sworde also and vnto Mars his stede, Of inwarde wo she felte her herte blede. Heryng the noyse and the pyteous crye, The tender wepynge and sorowyng vtterly, Of them of Troye and lamentaciowne, Which for their frend{is} throughout al y^e towne, They gan to make that were slawe afore. With sodeyne rage her herte was all to tore. So inwardely she might her not restrayne, Furyously to crye and to complayne, And sayde alas full ofte and welawaye. ¶Oh wofull wretches that ye be this daye, Vnhappy eke and graceles also, Infortunate and inly wo bego. How ye may suffre the great harmes kene, Whiche ye are lykely hereafter to sustene, Duryng the syege in this towne belocke, Seynge your foen redy to be wroke, Aboute you beset on euery syde. To be venged on your great pryde. I wote ryght well ye may them not eschewe. That they ne shall vnto the death pursewe, You euerychone besyeged in this place. Without mercy rewth or any grace. Alas alas why wyll ye besy be, Ye wofull wretches shet in this Cite. With the grekes for to seken peace, Or the sworde of vengeaunce mercyles. On hygh and lowe do execuciowne, And or this noble worthy royall towne, Euersed be and ybrought to nought. Why lyst ye not consyder in your thought, How the Modres with their children smale, In stretes shall with face dead and pale, Lye murdred there through grekes cruelte, And yonge maydens in captiuite, Be wepe shall in myserye and wo. Their seruitute and this towne also. So famous ryche alas it is pyte, With grekes fyre shall destroyed be. In shorte tyme sothly this no were. Heleyne of vs alas is bought to dere. Syth for her sake we shall euerychone, Poore and ryche exceptyng neuer one, An ende make wofull and pyteous. The yre of them shalbe so furious. Vpon vs all there is none other meane, Saue onely death vs to go betwene. ¶This was the noise and the pyteons crye, Of Cassandra that so dredefully, She gan to make aboute in euery strete. Through y^e towne whom euer she might mete Lyke as she had be out of her mynde, Tyll Pryamus faste made her bynde, And shytte vp it as the more routhe, She was not harde albe she sayd trouth. ¶For neyther wysedome nor discrecion, Counsayle nor wyt prudence nor reason, Trouth nor rede withouten any lye, Nor the spirite of trewe prophecye. Auayleth not nor all suche sapyence, In place where there is no audyence. For be a man inly neuer so wyse, In counsaylyng or in hyghe deuyse, In workyng outher or in eloquence, Eche thynge to se in his aduertence, Or it be falle afore in his reason, Amyd the eye of his discrecion. Yet for all this it is the more dole, Without fauour he holden is a fole. For vnfauoured wisedome vayleth nought, Neyther trouth how dere that it be bought. As Cassandra for all her wyse rede, Dispysed was and taken of no hede. Of them of Troye to their confusyon, But cruelly ythrowen in pryson, Where as a whyle I wyll lette her dwelle. And of grekes forth I wyll you telle.

ANd fyrst of all how Pallamydes, Gan to grutche agaynst them y^t chese, He beyng absent kyng Agamenon, To haue lordshyp or domynacyon, On them all namely syth that he, Was not worthy to suche dignite, For to gouerne so great a myghty hoste. Throughout the world come from euery cost, Of kynges, prynces, so worthy of renowne. For he therof had indignaciowne. ¶And sayd himselfe was of more poustee, Amonge grekes and greater of degree,

Concludyng that by no maner weye, To his power he ne wolde obeye. In peace and werre as by subiection. Syth he ne was at his election. Platly affyrmyng how there were but thre, Whan he was chose kynges of degre, Where as thurty were that tyme absent, For whiche he swore it was not his entent, Nor accordyng with his opynyon. ¶In any wyse that Agamenon, Of grekes shulde haue suche gouernaunce. ¶Lo what myschyefe lyeth in varyaunce. Amonge lordes whan they not accorde. For to drawe fully by one corde. Enuye is cause of suche dyuysyon, And couetyse of domynacyon. That eueryche wolde surmounten his felowe, This cursed vyse often hath withdrawe, Hap and grace in many regyon. For whan discorde and false discencion, Allyed ben in hertes for to stryue, Among lordes that kingdom may not thriue. Tyll they reformed be agayne to peace. Amonge them selfe playnely this no lease. Of whyche thinge grekes token hede, And thought not good ferther to procede, In the matter that Pallamydes, Ymeued had amonges all the prese. And through their wyt they set all in quyete, And made him his rancour for to lete. And to accorde fully in his herte. But nowe must I my style agayne dyuerte, Vnto the werre and telle on the maner, After the trewes how they mette yfeare.

LYke as the storye maketh mencion. The worthy kyng the great Agamenon, When the trewes were passed and ygone, In all haste he gan ordeyne anone, With all myght and waker dylygence, Deuoyde of slouthe and all neclygence, To sette his wardes full auysely. ¶And to Achylle he full prudently, The fyrste warde cōmytteth for to lede, And the seconde vnto Diomede. The thyrde also to kyng Menelay, And the fourth on the same daye. ¶He had Meneste the duke of Athene, At his lodyng in stele armed clene. And other wardes folowyng by and by, Agamenon the kyng full manfully, Ordeyned hath how they shall procede, As he that was in all his worke and dede, Full circumspect both in werre and peace. ¶And worthy Hector was not reckles, To sette his wardes of them of the towne. In knightly wyse of discreciowne, And to Troylus so yonge freshe and lyght, The fyrst warde with many lusty knyght, He hath assygned and other wardes set, So prudently they ne myght be no bet. And forth in hast hym lyste no longer byde, With many worthy rydyng by his syde. Out at the gates he went of the towne, Towarde grekes this Troyan champiowne. And fyrst whan he sawe the fyerse Achylle, He ne coulde no lenger kepe hym styll, But smote his horse felly in the syde, And towarde hym cruelly gan ryde. The whiche thynge with a dispyteous eye, Whan Achylles sothly gan espye, Agayne Hector of manfull hardynesse, With herte enuyous gan his stede dresse. And in the fyelde together as they mette, With rounde speres the poyntes kene whette, At the encountryng of knightly excellence, Eueryche other through great vyolence, By very force bare other vnto grounde. As full ofte it happeth and is founde, Whan stronge doth mete with his peregall. There is no more but eueryche had a fall. But Hector fyrst of strength most assured, His stede agayne hath anone recured. And lefte Achylle tho of gentilnesse, And in great hast forth he gan hym dresse, Amonge grekes and where so that he rode, He kylled and slewe all that hym with stode. For w^t his sworde he made their woūdes wide And through the brest & some through the side, He perced hath and waged them for euer, And sheltroūs brake & made them to disseuer. For in his herte him thought it did him good, To hath his sworde in the grekes bloud. And this continued tyll that Achylles, Caught his stede agayne amonge the prese. And entred in amonges them of Troye, And with his swerde he made large weye. Sleeth and bare downe whom y^t euer he met,

For there was none hardy hym to lette. Tyll it befell in his melancolye. ¶Hector he mette rydyng sodainly, And when they sawe eche other come a ferre, Without abode eueryche caught a spere, And ran together there was no more a reste. ¶But Hector fyrst smette him in the brest, That his spere playnely this no tale, All to shyuered into peces smale. That Achilles of necessyte, To grounde goth it wolde none other be. And vnhorsed at the earth laye. And Hector then in all the haste he may, Enforced hym for to catche his stede. But many a greke in this great nede, Came to rescues of this Achylles. And for his loue put them selfe in prese. Thrugh help of whō his horse he doth attaine Enhastyng him with al his might & payne, To be auenged of his great iniurye. And sodeynly in his wood furye, With a sworde ful sharpe ground and whette, ¶He smote Hector vpon the basenet, That from his sadell he made hym to remewe The whiche stroke he might not eschewe, But for all that this noble worthy knight, Of very force through his great myght, Maugre his foen his sadell hath recured. As he that was in manhode most assured. And sodeynly in herte he wexed so wroth, That in arage to Achylles he goth, And with his sworde so smyt him on the head, Through the basenet that the bloud all red, By his face gan to ronnen downe, Lyke a ryuer his chekes enuyrowne. But he hym selfe deffendeth as a knyght, And tho of newe began the cruell fyght. Atwene them two to se that it was wonder. For euery stroke great as dent of thonder, Range in the eyre for none wolde other spare. And this the soth in their fyght they fare, Lyke wood Tygres or Bores in their rage, Or sterne Bulles whan they be sauage. That it semyd in very sothfastnesse, If these two so full of worthynesse, Contune longe in fyghtynge and endure. The tone or both of cruell aduenture, Must haue be dead of necessyte. The whiche thyng had great petye be. Bycause they weren worthy knyghtes bothe. But whyle that they in fyghtyng fell & wroth, Most busy were the grekes tho begyn, With their wardes for to entre in. And they of Troye the storye maketh mynde, On their partye lefte not behynde, But in the fyelde enhaste them euerychone. In knightly wyse to mete with their fone, That with the prease here and also yonder, The knyghtes two seuered were a sonder. ¶And tho came in sterne Dyomede. With the knyghtes whiche he there dyd lede, Full lustly and in the selue place, With whom hath mette proudly in the face, Worthy Troylus on his horsebacke. That neuer had yet in manhode lacke. And as they countre the storye doth vs lere, Eueryche vnhorsed knightly hath his feare. ¶But fyrst his horse recureth Dyomede, And in all haste gan him for to spede, Tassayle Troylus stondyng vpon foote. And when he sawe there was none other bote And knightly yet as dyd erst any man. Agaynst hym to deffende tho he began. But Dyomede hote as any fyre, Wonder enuyous and hatefull of desyre, With his sworde of rancour for the nones, The ryche Cercle full of Inde stones, That was that tyme on Troylus basenet, Full cruelly hath raced of and smet. But Troilus nolde for that him w^tdrawe, For hym deffendynge he hath the stede slawe, On whiche sat that tyme Dyomede. That mauger him he must alyght nede. And whan they were on fote both twayne, They dyd their myght and their cruell payne, Eueryche of them other to assayle. With swordes sharpe so that plate and mayle, They gan to seuere and a sonder race. As wood Lyons with mortall chere and face, Tyll the Grekes stronge stoute and felle, As myne auctour in his boke can telle, Haue through their might caused Dyomede, All sodeynly to recure his stede. And Troyan knightes on the tother syde, Haue Troylus brought a stede for to ryde. ¶And when they were horsed both two, Without more they efte togyther go. With stronge foynes and yfeare ran,

Eche at other as felly as they can. Tyll at the laste cruell Dyomede, Lyke as ye may in myne auctour rede, Were it by case hap or aduenture, In whiche no man fully may assure, Or by fortune with her false vysage, Had that tyme of Troylous avauntage. For he on hym was fallen at myschyefe, The whiche thynge to hym was no reprefe, Though he him toke amonge so great aroute On euery halfe with grekes set aboute. Syth doubtous euer is the fyne of fyght. Now vp, now down, now derk, & after bright, For no wyght may be aye vyctoryous, In peace nor werre nor ylyche eurous. Let euery man syth hap it sette in doute, Take his tourne as it commeth aboute. Though troylus now was take of Diomede, An other tyme he shall him quite his mede. For as the storye telleth in this place, This Dyomede but a lyttell space, Troylus ladde forth as prysoner, That to reskewes in stele armed clere, Many Troyan came pryckynge in this nede, That maugre all the myght of Dyomede. They Troylus haue from his handes take, And tho began the slaughter for his sake, On euery halfe that wonder is to telle, Of the Troyans and the grekes felle. ¶Than into fyelde is entred Menelay, Whiche on Troyans all that ylke daye, Full busy was auenged for to be. To them he had so cruell enmyte. ¶And whan Parys sawe hym in the fyelde, Towardes hym the ryght waye he helde. And of purpose they their wardes sette, Eche on other tyll they together mette. And tho the skyrmyshe & the slaughter gan, On outher parte of many manly man. ¶And all this whyle Hector ne wolde cease, Amonge grekes cruelly to prease. And new and new of hym as I read, Alyke freshe the bloud of them to shede. For of his sworde the traces were ysene, That the grekes ne myghten not sustene, To resyste nor stande afore his face. But where he rode aye they gaue him place. ¶Tyll that a knyght whiche Boetes hyghte, Yonge of age whan he had a syght, How Hector slewe the grekes mortally, On euery syde hauynge no mercy. He preased in to encrease his name. Perpetually to purchase him a fame. And furiously in herte not aferde, He caste platly to mete him in the berde. The whiche thynge when Hector gan aduert, So hyghe rancour enbraced hath his herte, That with his sworde of indignaciowne, He rofe hym euen to the nauell downe. Fro the crowne with so great a payne, That in the fyelde he parted laye in twayne. And Hector tho assygned hath his stede, To a squyer and bad he shulde it lede, To Troye towne without more abode. And all this while furyously he rode, Amonge grekes and euer mercilese, He slewe all tho that put them selfe in prese. And shedde their bloud of herte despiteous. The whiche thynge when kyng Archylogus, Rydyng besyde sawe and gan espye, How Boetes his cosyn and allye, So cruelly was of Hector slawe, Towardes him in hast he gan him drawe. Vpon his death auenged for to be. And rode at him with great cruelte, Fully in purpose Hector for to quyte. And sodeynly as he gan at hym smyte, Hector vnwarely hyt him on the head, So myghtly that he fell downe dead. Parted on two by cruell aduenture. Notwithstanding his mighty stronge armure Agayne his stroke it was of no deffence, For it was geuen with suche violence, That it holpe hym in no maner thynge. ¶And then anone Prothenor the kynge, Of hatefull yre and fole hardynesse, Of surquedye and of hastinesse, Of melancolye and indignacion, Caught in his herte a presumpcion, To assayle Hector of in warde folyshe pryde, And goth to him attrauerse on the syde, Furyously with a dispiteous herte. That his commonge he might not aduerte, Onely for he came at his backe behynde. And vnwarely in Guydo as I fynde. And Hector smote from his horse to grounde, In whom there was so muche manhod foūde That he anone with a knightly herte,

Without abode into his sadell sterte, And ryght fyersely Prothenor purseweth, That fynally his hande he not escheweth, For with his sworde he marked hym so wele, Through the basenet by his breste of stele, That into twayne without any fayle, He roue him downe into his paunce of mayle. And he fell downe in full pyteous wise. Of whych stroke the grekes sore agryse. ¶And specially the hardy fierse Achille, When he behelde lyked it full yll. ¶For Prothenor was nygh his cosyne, And descended of the same lyne, For death of whom he hath such heuynesse, So inwarde thought and so great distresse, In all this worlde he ne wyst what to do. For him he had so much payne and wo. And for the death of him Archilogus, To be auenge he was full desyrous. And in his herte many waye he caste, And in the wardes gan to seke faste, With many greke on Hector to haue fall. Conspyred fully in sothe amonge theim all, Of one entente Hector to assayle. But all for nought it would not auayle, He was that daye so cruell in his rage, They might of him haue none auauntage. And Troian knightes by fauour of Fortune, Vpon grekes so mightely contune, Thrugh conueyeng of Hector and his might, That they anone haue put theim to flyght. And to theyr tentes maugre who that stryue, In their pursuite forwoūded they them driue. That here and there they laye as in a swowe, And many a greke merciles they slowe. The longe daye till it drewe to nyght. And sothly then for very lacke of lyght, These troians knight{is} ful worthy of renowne Aboute Hector repayren to the towne. And entre in with honour and with glorye, That daye of grekes hauing the victorye. And thus I leue theim in their towne within, And forth of grekes to tel I will begyn.

VVhan Hesperus the faire bright sterre, Agaynst eue hath caste his streames fer, And in the west rathest gan appeare, Whan the twylight with a pale cheare, In maner morneth thabsence of the sonne. And night aprocheth with his coopes dunne. The same time when Titan toke his leue, That clerkes call Crepusculum at eue, Whych is not elles but the meane lyght, Of Phebus absence and the dercke night. And twylight hatte for it is a meane, Of daye and night departing theim betwene. Fully nother but of both ymeynt, Or the heauen be clustered and depeynt, With bryght sterres in the eueninge.

AT whyche tyme Agamenon the kinge, For his lordes sodaynly hath sente, To come echone anone into his tente. And when they were assembled all yfeare, Tryst and heuy with a ruthfull cheare, They gan y^e slaught of Hector to complayne. Affirming playnly they ne maye attayne, Vnto victorye while he were alyue. Wherfore they gan to conspyre blyue, The death of him in many sondry weye. Echone concludynge whyle he were in Troy, It was not lykely grekes for to wynne. For he alone of them that were within, Was chiefe deffence and protectiowne. And soueraynly vpholder of the towne. Their mighty Castell and their stronge wall, And vnto grekes deadly foe mortall. For they ne myght his great force endure, Nor neuer aryght agayne their foes be sure. He standyng hole they sayde in no degre, Nor whyle he floureth in felycitye. Wherfore echone of one entencion, They condiscende to this conclusyon. That by some slyght of awayte lyinge, Whan he were moste busy in fyghtynge, Amonge them in myschyfe or distresse, That Achylles do his busynesse, With all his might vnwarely hym to assayle. That hym to slea for nothynge that he fayle. ¶And grekes all gan their prayer make, To Achilles for to vndertake. Of this Empresse fynally the suite. Through his manhode that it be execute, The hasty deth of their mortall foe, And Achylles without wordes mo, Their request assenteth to perfourme. And to their luste gan hooly hym confourme. From that tyme lett hym beware I reade,

To be to hasty this iourney for to spede, Vpon Hector his power for to kythe. Lest fortune awronge her face wrythe, To loke on him wyth a frowarde cheare, Him to brynge vnto his handes nere. Through sorte or hap of Hector folylye, To put his lyfe of death in Ieopartye. Lest vnto him it happe euen lyche, To fall him selfe in the same dyche, That he for Hector compassed hath & shape, For it is wonder if that he escape. Sith Hector had without any dreade, As brennyng yre and as great hatrede, To Achilles his death for to puruey, If he hym founde or in any place to saye, Conuenyent for execucion. I trowe there should gayne him no raunson, Nor other mede his herte to quyete, But onely death when so that they mete. This the ende and fyne of my mattere, As in this boke after ye shall heare. And thus Grekes made haue an ende, Of theyr counsayle and anone they wende, Eueryche of theim home to theyr lodgynge, And toke theyr resten till in the morninge.

¶Howe the troians toke kinge Thoas pry∣soner and led him captiue to Troie. Ca. xxiiii.

VVhan Aurora the syluer droppes shene, Her teares shad vpon the freshe grene, Complayning aye in weping & in sorow, Her chyldrens death euery somer morowe, That is to saye when the dewe so soote. Enbawmed hath the floure and eke the roote With lusty lycoure in Aprill and in Maye, When that the larke messenger of daye, Of custome aye Aurora doth salue, With sundrye notys her sorow to transmewe. Or Phebus ryse with ioye and gladnesse, Through hermonye to leue her heuynesse, Taking her leue with sainct Iohn to borow, The same time Grekes by the morowe, With lusty herte early did aryse, And armed theim in all theyr best wise. For they theim caste that daye for to gone, Into the felde to mete with their fone. ¶And Hector hath the same morowe also, I cast him fully with Grekes haue ado. And yssued is knightly out of Troye, In herte he hath so great desyre and ioye, The same daye with grekes for to fyght, And wyth him ladde many lusty knyght, Of such as were of the Cyte borne, And forthe he rode him selfe all aforne, ¶And Eneas with many a worthy, Folowed after wonder fast by. ¶And Paris thē and next him Deiphobus, ¶And syth Troylus that was coragious, With all the wardes made of Troye towne, In which as Dares maketh menciowne, Within his boke there were on Troye syde, Of fighting men y^t went and that did ryde, And hundred thousande armed for to go, Into the felde and fyfty thousande mo. Which haue theim cast that daye or at eue, Of one entent Grekes for to greue. ¶And so they mette strongly on other syde, And gan assemble and together ryde, Full cruelly and with great hatrede. And with theim tho that Paris had to lede, He entred in full mighty stronge archeres, Of Perce lande with many Arbalasters, That with theyr arowes filed sharp & roūde, And w^t quarelles square whette and ground, Full many greke hath reued of his lyfe. And amiddes of this mortall stryfe, ¶Agamenon into the felde is come. Towardes whom Hector hath ynome, The right way & threwe him from his stede, Amonge his knightes that he there did lede. He spared nought for all the great prese. ¶And therwithall anone came Achilles, That in awayte of Hector tho had layne, And sodaynly with all his might and payne, ¶Hector he smote on the head so sore, That w^t y^e stroke mine auctour sayth no more His basenet was bowed and ycrased. ¶Of which stroke Hector not amased, On Achilles shuld anone yfall, Ne had Eneas with his knightes all, And worthy Troylus come and go betwene. The which twayne with their swerdes kene, Gan Achilles felly for to assale. To hewe his playtes and to perse his mayle. And tho began the slaught on euery syde, Of men of foote and of theim that ryde. ¶Like a condyte their woundes gā to blede,

And in this whyle cruell Dyomede, Were it by hap aduenture or case, So as he rode mette wyth Eneas, And ryght anone as he had him founde, He smet at hym and gaue him such a wound, That lykly was he should it not recure, But if therto be do the better cure. ¶And therupon full despyteously, Thys Diomede in his melancolye, Repreued hath this Troian knight Enee, And sayd to him all hayle for thou art he, That whylom gaue to Pryamus the kinge, A fell counsayle hasty and bytynge, Me to haue slayne by sodayne violence, When I was last at Troye in his presence. That trust me wel and haue it well in minde, Amyd the fyelde if I the eft fynde, Thou shalt thy counsayle mortally repente. If that fortune hereafter will assent, To brynge the aryght vnto my hande, At good leyser here in thine owne londe, ¶I am full sette thy laboure for to quyte. & here my trouth this swerde shal kerue & bite So kenely thy Troian bloud to shede, That fynally death shall be thy mede, The which I beare atwene my hād{is} twayne And w^t that word he might him not restrayn, This Diomede but rode all sodaynly, Vpon Enee and tho so furyously, He smote at him this hardy cruell knight, With such a payne and so great a myght, That from his horse he made him for to fall. Maugre the myght of his knightes all. The which stroke he lyked but full yll. ¶And in this while Hector hath Achylle, Assayled so that through his basenet, He perced hath and with his swerde him smet And hath so narowe brought him to y^e poynt, Of hye mychefe and in suche disioynt, Constrayned hym that of necessite, He had hym take ne had only be, Sodayne rescues of thys chyualrous. ¶That called is the sonne of Tydyus, I meane the fell fyrse Dyomede. Which Achilles hath holpen in his nede. For he through force of his armes twayne, Smote Hector tho with so great a payne, That he him gaue a wounde full greuous. But he nothyng mine auctour wryteth thus, Astoned was this knight this manly man, But with his swerde in all the haste he can, Smote Diomede so furyous and wrothe, That from his horse to the earth he gothe. For all his pryde and his surquidrye. ¶The which anone as Troylus did espye, Without abode downe of his stede alyght, With Dyomede a foote for to fyght. And eche of theim in sothfastnesse than, Aquyte him selfe lyke a manly man. That nother was in muche nor in lyte, In no degre of manhode for to wyte. ¶And while they fought, Hector & Achilles, Togyther mette agayne amonge the prees. And ran yfeare fyersly in theyr rage, As wood Lyons when they be ramage. Right so in sothe they faired in their fighting. And in that tyme Menelay the kinge, Full proudly shope him Troians for to mete, ¶Vlyxes eke and also Pollymete, And after him came Neptolonyus, ¶Pallamides and eke Scelemus. ¶Duke Meneste, Nestor and Thoas, ¶Currynulus and Phyloctheas. ¶And Theseus as it is made mynde, With his knyghtes proudly came behinde. ¶And on the partye of theim of the towne, Came all the kinges without excepciowne, That were assembled into their d••ffence, Agayne Grekes to maken resystence. Except the knightes which y^t Hector ladde, And the wardes that he made hadde, The same daye as sayeth the Latin boke, In knightly wyse the fyelde when y^t he toke. And tho began the fell mortall fyght, In which that daye ful many worthy knight. In fates handes fynally are fall. And of fortune amonge the wardes all. ¶Agamenon the noble mighty kynge, All sodaynly as he came rydynge, ¶Pantysylaus in his waye he mette, Agaynst whom anone his horse he sette, And he to him full knyghtly rode agayne. And as they mette there is no more to sayne, On horse backe whiles they weren wrothe, Of violence they were vnhorsed bothe. ¶And Menelay Parys mette of newe, The whych two well togyther knewe, Full desyrous eche other for to dere.

¶But Menelay caught fyrst a spere, And hytte Parys wyth all his busy cure. But for surenesse of his stronge armure, And mighty plates his woūde was but small. Which in effect greued not at all. But with that stroke vnto grounde he gothe. Of whych fall Parys wexed wrothe, Wonder confuse and also red for shame, Lest the reporte in hinderyng of his name, Came to the eares of quene Heleyne, How he that daye might not atteyne, With Menelay to holde chaumpartye, Lykly to sowne vnto his vilanye. The whych at herte greued him full sore. And Adrastus the kinge withouten more, So as he rode the kinge Vlyxes fonde, And knightly both they fought hōde to hōde, And as they fought downe to the earth lowe, From his horse Vlyxes hath him throwe. And ful proudly in sygne of his victorye, He sente his horse home to his Tentorye. ¶And in that tyme amonges all the prese, ¶Full sodaynly kynge Pallamydes, Is fall on Hupon with his lockes hore, And in his yre wounden him so sore, That he fell dead and grouelyng to y^e groūd. His mortall swerde was so kene ygrounde. Besyde whom Neptolonius, Assayled hath kinge Archylogus, The whych him selfe manly gan defende, But as they faught and many strokes spēde, In their diffence it would be none other. Eueryche of theim hath vnhorsed other. ¶And tho came in riding on his stede, ¶Pollidamas and gan to taken hede, Amonge the renges a lytell him besyde, Where as the kinge Pollamides doth ryde. And fiersely tho full lyke a manly man. He smote his stede and to him he ran. And maugre his might and his worthinesse, As the storye playnly beareth wytnesse. Onely to venge the death of kinge Hupowne, From his stede he proudly bare him downe. And in his rancoure and his cruell hete, Of that despyte gan him to rehete, ¶And tho besyde the kynge Scelenus, Of deadly hate and herte full yrous, With kinge Carras by aduenture hath met, And furyously from his stede hym smet. ¶And then also the kinge Philomene, Is on the Duke fall of Athene. That maugre both his manhode & his might He hath his horse berafte him in this fyght, And lad with him proudly by his syde, Where as him lyst that it shoulde abyde. ¶And Philoctetes the worthy kinge also, The selfe tyme with Remus had ado. And euery other sothly as I reade, His felowe made to voiden from his stede. ¶And Theseus the king that was so strong, Amid the fyelde so as he rode amonge, In great prese hathe met Curyalus. The worthy king of knighthod most famous And both two in armes wonder stronge, By theim selfe fought at leyser longe, Til eche other with woundes freshe & grene, His felowe threwe from horsback on y^e grene. And afterwarde I fynde how they two, Vpon foote knightly had ado. They were in armes so inly desyrous. And of manhode passyngly famous. ¶And all this whyle the sonnes naturell, Of Pryamus bare theim wonder well, Amonge Grekes vp and downe ryding, And prudently together abydynge, Made a slaught of grekes full pyteous. Of kinges, dukes and lordes right famous. And as I reade how worthy Thelamowne, That tyme mette kynge Sarpedowne, And with theyr speres squared full sharply, Eueryche hath wounded other mortally, Through shelde & plate & haberion of mayle. That as the storye maketh rehersayle, How their harneys wexed of bloud red, And how they fell almost bothe dead. At great myschyefe amonge the horse fete. Of whose bleding the soyle gan wexe wete, Through theyr harneys as it gan destylle Whiles kinge Thoas and the fyerse Achille, As they that were of kynne and allyed. ¶Amyd the fyelde Hector haue espyed, Where as he faught beset amyd his foen, And vpon him of one accorde they gone, And mortally if that it would auayle, On euery halfe they gan him newe assayle. And of hate in herte borne of yore, They haue beset this Troian knight so sore. That they alas from his head hath smet, By violence his ryche basenet,

And wounded him felly on the head. But for all that he ne toke none hede, This worthy man floure of chyualrye, But him defending tho so myghtely, ¶Kynge Thoas smet him in the face so, That wyth a stroke he rafte his nose a two. And shorted it by the halfe dele. To whych stroke the brother naturele, Of manly Hector fast gan theym hye, To succoure him when they first espye, His great myschyefe and at theyr in coming, They so manly bare theim in fightyng, ¶Agayne Grekes y^e Thoas they haue take, And Thelamon so they made a wake. With newe assaute of sharpe woundes kene. That he was take and lefte vpon the grene. And of his men borne home to his tente. ¶And kinge Thoas home to Troye is wēt, Maugre grekes which may hī helpe no more For Deiphobus and also Anthenore, Haue sent him forth to Troye the Cyte. ¶And Menelay tho began to se, ¶So as he rode Parys stande asyde, And shope him shorty of hate & cruell pryde. If it would fallon on his chaunce, Sodainly to giuen him mischaunce. ¶But he was ware & kept him self so narow ¶That Menelay he marked with an arowe, The head of which w^t venym was enoint, Intoxycate at the square poynt, That the king of that dreadfull wounde, All dispayred of his men was founde. Whych in great haste bare him to his tent. And he anone for surgyens hath sente, Which fyrst the head toke out of his wounde, Albe it was yperced full profounde, Through his harneys depe into the bone. But cunningly they did theyr craft echone, To drawe it out with their instrumentes, And subtylly with certayne oyntmentes. They serched haue the wounde enuyron. To make it cleane from corrupcion. And prudently first they token hede, That the venum further nat procede. Rounde in compasse clensed it aboute, And after that bounde it sure without, And defensyues made on euery syde. And Menelay no longer would abyde, And bad in haste to bryngen forth his stede, ¶In purpose full Parys to quite his mede, If he him finde the selfe same daye, Him lyst no longer put it in delaye, What euer fall of his grene wounde. And forth he rode tyll he hath him founde, By aduenture vnarmed in the fyelde, Without swerde pollax spere or shelde, Or bowe in hande were it of recklysnesse, Or to refreshe him after werynesse. ¶And Menelay a spere anone hath take, And in his yre felly gan it shake, Towarde Parys by great auysenesse. And shoulde haue slayne him as by lyklinesse, Ne had Eneas whych all this thinge beheld, Bore of the stocke with his stronge shelde, To defende him in this auenture, Destytute and naked of armure. ¶Parys that tyme in suche peryll was, Wherfore in haste hath this Eneas, Ordayned knightes armed bryght in stele, ¶Aboute Parys for to kepe him wele, From all myschyefe and confusyowne, Hym to conueye vnto Troye towne, Right in despyte of kinge Menelay, Which in awayte so for Parys laye. ¶Whom Hector had ytaken sodaynly, And vnto Troye ladde hym vtterly. Ne had Grekes come in his defence, Agaynst him to maken resystence. ¶Of which Hector as they came in his weye, Full many Greke made for to deye. And the remnaunt put vnto the flyght, That through his māhode y^t day & his might, Troians made the Grekes for to fle, Vnto their tentes of necessytee. And theim to sewe ne would neuer leue, But slee and kill tyll it drewe to eue. That Phebus gan faste for to weste, To drawe thē home they thought for the best. For Tytan was at his goyng downe, Whan they gan entre into Troye towne. Their gat{is} shet they to their lodging wende. And of this daye thus they made an ende. Tyll on the morowe that the rowes red, Of Phebus carte gan to ouer sprede. Afore his vpryste in the Oryent. At which tyme king Pryamus hath sent, For such as were wyth him most pryue. And of his counsayle inwardly secre.

¶And specially he sent for by name, ¶For worthy Hector y^e greatest was of fame ¶For Parys eke and for Deiphobus, ¶And for Troylus freshe and desyrous. ¶For Anthenor and for Pollidamas, ¶And for the Troian called Eneas. For he that daye cast him not to gone, Into the felde to mete with his foen. And when they were to his paleys come, These lordes haue the right waye ynome, Vnto the kinge within his closet. And when the vssher had the dores shet, And eueryche had lyke to his degre, His place take and his dewe see, This worthy kinge as made is mencion, Gan to declare his hertes mocion, And his meninge afore theim specifye, And sayd syres in whom I most affye, ¶To you is knowē how y^e king Thoas here, Is in this Cite taken prisonere. And is as yet belocked in prisowne, Whych euer hath be vnto Troye towne, An enemye great vnto his power. And vs offended aye both ferre and nere. In many wise albe we lytell retche, As ferre as he his force might do stretche. And now w^t Grek{is} came to besiege our town, As he that willeth our destructiowne. And therupon hath do his busynesse, Wherfore of dome and of rightwysnesse, Both of reason and of equite, I saye playnly as semeth vnto me, So that it be to you acceptable, And that ye thynke my counsayle cōmēdable, Like as he hath cast our death and shape, I holde it rightfull that he not escape. But that by death he receyue his guerdon. For ryght requireth and also good reason, That death for death is skilful guerdonning. Vnto my witte and right well syttyng. ¶Say your aduise now playnly in this case, ¶And fyrst of all tho spake this Eneas, And sayd lorde so it be none offence, To your highnesse to gyue me audyence, Thrugh support here of thē that be full wyse, I shall reherse playnly my deuise, What is to worke as in this mattere. Me semeth fyrst my lyege lorde so deare, That your noble royall excellence, Consydre shoulde with full high prudence, In euery worke and operacion, To caste afore in conclusyon, The fynall ende that may after sewe. For to a wyse man onely is not dewe, To se the gynning and the ende nought. But both attones peysen in his thought, And weye theim so iustly in balaunce, That of the fine ensewe no repentaunce. Why I saye this and platly why I meane, Is for that ye ought for to sene, How kinge Thoas one of the pryncipall, Amonge the grekes is and of y^t bloud royall. If ye consydre descended as by lyne. Wherfore if he haue thus foule a fyne, As to be slayne whyle he is in pryson, It happen might as in conclusyon, That ye and yours that therto assente, Here afterwarde shoulde it sore repent. ¶I preue it thus that by aduenture, Of fortunes rule that no man may assure, Some of your lordes were another daye, Of grekes take as it happe maye. Or of your sonnes full worthy of renowne, Or of kinges that here be in this towne. Trusteth me well that suche lyke gentylnesse, As ye to theim shewen in their distresse, They will you quyte when in case semblable, Fortune to theim they fynde fauorable. The which no man constrayne may or binde Wherfore my lord haueth this thing in mind. ¶For yf Thoas of shorte auysemente, Shall now be dead through hasty iudgemēt, Another daye Grekes wyll vs acquyte, And for rygour make their malyce byte, On some of yours who euer that it be. And nother spare high nor lowe degre. Though he were peraunter of your bloud. The which thinge for all this worldes good, It might fall that ye ne would se. Wherfore I reade to let kinge Thoas be, Honestly kept in your presowne, Like his estate still here in this towne, Lest as I sayd that another daye, Some lorde of yours as it happe maye, Casuelly were take of auenture, By his eschaunge ye might best recure, Without stryfe your owne man agayne, In this matter I can no more sayne,

But fynally this is my full rede. ¶To which counsayl Hector toke good hede, And for it was according to reason, He it commendeth in his opynion. ¶But Pryam euer of one entencion, Stode alway fixe to this conclusion. Playnly affirminge if greks may espye, That we this kinge spare of gentrye, They will arrecte it cowardyse anone, That we dare not venge vs of our foen, For very dread hauynge none hardynesse, Nor herte nother to do rightwisenesse. Yet neuerthelesse after your assente, That he shall lyue I wyll in myne entente, To your desyre fully condescende. ¶And of this counsayle so they made an end, Without more. saue Eneas is ygo, ¶And Troylus eke and Anthenor also, Into an hall excelling of beaute, The quene Heleyne of purpose for to se. With whom was eke Hecuba the quene, And other ladyes goodly on to sene, And many mayde that yonge & lusty was. And worthy Troylus with this Eneas, Did their labour and their busy payne, For to comforte the fayre quene Heleyne, As she that stode for the werre in dreade. But for all that of very womanheade, Thilke time with all her herte entere, As she well could made to theim good chere. Hauinge of conninge iuly suffysannce, Both of cheare and of dalyaunce. And Hecuba beyng in this hall, Very example vnto women all, Of bounte hauinge soueraygne excellence, In wisedome eke and in eloquence, Besought theim tho wonder womanly, And counsayled eke full prudently, For any haste both of nigh and ferre, Auysely to kepe theim in the werre, And not ieoparte theyr bodies folyly, But to aduerte and caste prudently, In diffence knightlyy of the towne, Theim to gouerne by discresciowne. She spake of fayth & could nothing feyne, And then of her and after of Heleyne, They toke leue and no longer dwell, But went their waye & forth I will you tell, ¶How the Grekes on the same morowe, Amonge thē selfe complayne & makē sorowe, Their harmes great in murmur and in rage, The losse the costes and the great domage, That they haue there endured folylye. Lastynge the werre and wisten neuer whye. The death & slaught of many worthy man, That there were dead sith y^t the werre began. Hunger and thurst watche and colde also, Full great vnreste sorowe, thought, and wo, And all together for a thinge of nought. In sothfastnesse if the grounde be sought. This was the noyse & rumour eke that ran, Throughout y^e hoost y^t day from man to mā. And most amonge the pore souldiours. Which bare the bronte euer of such shoures. And the mischiefe of werre comonly, And though they plain they haue no remedy. Of sondry thinges which sit theim full vnsoft. And thus grekes complayned haue full ofte. Of many mischief that hath on theim fall, The which they might haue eschewed all, If they ne had of foly gonne a werre. Out of Grece nat come halfe so ferre, To their mischief and confusyon. This was that daye their lamentacion. ¶Which to encrease the same nexte night, So derked was without sterre light, So cloudy blacke and so thicke of ayre, Dimmed with skyes foule and nothing fair, So windy eke with tempest all belayne, Almost for drenched with the smoky rayne. And in the felde astoned here and yonder, With sodayne stroke of the dreadfull thonder, And with opening of the hidous leuene, That it semed in the high heauen, The Cataractes hadden be vndo. For both the cloudes and the skyes two, Sodainly wexen were so blake, Like as the goddes would haue takē wrake, And had of newe assented be in one, The lande to drenche of Deucalyon. And all this world without more refuge, To ouerflowe with a freshe deluge. The winde also so sternly gan to blowe, That their tentes standing on a rowe, Forpossid were and ybeten downe. And furyously to their confusyowne, The flod{is} raught thē from their stāding place And bare theim forth frō thens a large space.

Wherof in myschyefe and in great distresse, In great laboure and hertye heauynesse, The grekes bydde all the same nyght. What for the tempest and for lacke of lyghte, Tyll the floude gan agayne withdrawe, The wynde to appease and the day gan dawe, And the heauen gan agayne to clere, Without cloudes freshly to appere, And Phebus eke with a feruent hete, Had on the soyle dryed vp the wete. And the moysture enuyrowne on the playne, And grekes had their tentes sette agayne, And were adawed of their nyghtes sorowe, Through the apering of the glade morowe. They them arayed nothynge for the peace, And into fyelde fyrst went Achylles, As ye shall here of entencyowne, That daye to fyght w^t them of Troye towne.

VVhan dryed was the lusty large playne, w^t Pheb{us} bemes as ye haue hard me sain The troian knightes full worthy of renowne, Descended be and ycomen downe. And in the fyelde toke their fyghtyng place, But Achylles to mete them in the face, Tofore went out lyke as I you tolde, With his lordes and his knightes bolde, And fyrst I fynde without more abode, Vnto Hupon furyously he rode. I meane Hupon that was of his stature, Lyke a Gyaunt as bokes vs assure. Whom Achylles with his sharpe spere, Through the body perced him so fere, That he fylle dead his wounde was so kene. And after this the kynge Octamene, As he fyersly on Hector wolde haue gone, Without abode Hector hath slaine anone, And cruelly quytte him his fatall mede. And sodaynely agaynst Diomede, ¶As zantipus the worthy kyng gan drawe, Full pyteously he of hym was slawe. And ryght anone the kyng Epystrophus, And eke the kyng that hyght Cedius, Of one assent proudly in battayle, Begonne Hector mortally tassayle. And with a spere fyrst Epystrophus, Ran at hym with herte despyteous, And as Guydo also doth deuyse. Rebuked him in vngoodly wyse. At hym so sore in herte he was a meued. Wherof Hector furyously agreued, Hath mortally his wounde made so large, That hym ne geyneth plate shelde nor targe. For he fell dead amonge his men echone. To whom Hector bad he shulde be gone, And to the Furyes depe downe in helle, Suche proude wordes amonges them to tell, For here quod he men take of them no hede. And thus whan he was waged for his mede, ¶Anone his brother called Cedyus, Suche sorowe made for Epystrophus, So hertye dole and so wofull chere, That pytie was for to se and here. So inwardely on his death he thought, And with a thousande knight{is} y^t he brought, To be auenged by manhode of them all. Despyteously on Hector he is fall. Where he hym founde fyghtyng w^t his foen, That through the force of th••m euerycone, So sore enuyrowne they haue him beset, That frō his stede downe they haue him smit. ¶Whom Cedyus aye in his cruell rage, Whan that he sawe to his ouauntage, Hector vnhorsed and he on his stede, His sworde he lefte of inwardly hatred, Markynge at hym with so great a payne, With all the force of his armes twayne, Fully in purpose withouten more delaye. To slea Hector playnly if he maye. But or his stroke descende myght downe, Hector of hate and indignaciowne With his sworde that was full sharpe whet, From his shoulder hath his arme of smet. And after that he reuyd hym his lyfe. Than Eneas amyddes all this stryfe, Came rydyng in ryght wood and furious. And as he mette the kyng Amphymacus, He fell on him and slewe hym in his rage. And from the grekes holdyng their passage. ¶There be discended fyrst Menelaus. ¶And after him kynge Thelamonius. ¶The great duke also of Athene, In whom there was so moche manhode sene. Vlixes eke and cruell Diomede. And eke also to helpe them in their nede, There came with them the kyng Machaon, And alderlast the great Agamenon. With all their wardes and fell in sodeynly,

Vpon Troyans and they full manfully, Diffende them selfe agayne the grekes proude And put them of full knightly as they coude. And eche on other sothly as they mette, With spere and sworde enuyously they sette, So mortall hate there was them betwene, And whan the sonne was merydyen, In mydday angell passyng hote and shene, The grekes gan felly in their tene, So myghtely to falle on them of Troye, That they them made for to geuen weye, Of very force and necessytye. ¶And Achylles so full of cruelte, Amonge the renges as he gan hym drawe, The kyng Phylem enuyously hath slawe. ¶And amyd of grekes the same time Hector, Maugre them all slewe kyng Alphenor. ¶And eke the kynge called Dorius, On them he was so cruell and Irous. That through vertue of his knyghtly honde, Troyans wonne haue agayne their londe, Vpon grekes and made them for to flee. ¶And thylke houre from Troye the Cite, Epystrophus full of manlynesse, The felde haue take through his worthinesse. And on grekes proudely for the nones, With his knightes he fauleth all attones, And seuered them & made them for to twinne, And gan the fyelde fast vpon them wynne. ¶Hauyng that tyme in his companye, Amonges other that he tho dyd guye, ¶A certayne archer the whiche as I fynde, Was monstruous and wonderfull of kynde. For from the myddell vp vnto the crowne, He was a man and the remnaunt downe, Bare of an horse lykenesse and fygure. And horses heire this monstre in nature, Had on his skynne growyng enuyrowne. Full rough and thycke & of his voice y^e sowne, Was lyke the neyhynge of an horse I reade. And though his face both in length and brede, Of shape were mannyshe yet in sothfastnesse, His colour was semblable in lykenesse, Vnto the fyry hoote brennyng glede. Whose cyen eke flawmyng also reade, As the blase is of an ouen mouthe. And for he was in syghte so vnkouth, Where soeuer he was met in the berde, Both man and horse sore were a ferde, His face was so hatefull and so odyble. And his loke so hydous and horrible. And aye he had in custome and vsaunce, As in bokes is made remembraunce, For to go vnarmed into fyelde. Without sworde, spere, axe, or shielde. For he nothyng coulde of that myster. But as I fynde he was a good archer. And bare a bowe styffe and wonder stronge, And for he was also of tyller longe, His arrowes were lyke to his tyller. In a bushment trussed wonder ner, By his syde aye ready to his hande. Where so he were outher on sea and lande. And as I fynde how that none armure, Agayne his shot playnly myght endure. And there was horse stede nor couser, That durst abyde nouther fer nor ner, But fledde anone with all their full myght, As fast as they of hym had a syght. To them he was so passynge odyous. So lyke a deuyll and so monstruous. And there was founde none so hardy a knight On horsebacke that had force or might, To holde his horse whan they myght hym se, But that anone a backe he wolde do flee. And of this archer I fynde wryten eke, That he that day slewe full many greke. And wounded them with his arrowes kene, Throughout y^e plates forged bryght & shene. For there was none afore hym that abode, But to their tentes faste away they rode, They myght not his hydous loke endure. Tyll there befell a wonder aduerture, Whyle they of Troye by helpe of this archer, Sewe on the chase to their lodgyng ner, And slewe of them in mischiefe and in dreade, ¶Besyde a Tent mette hym Dyomede, With this archer of necessyte. For it stode so that he ne myght hym flee. No maner way nor a backe remewe, For lyfe nor deth he myght hym not eschewe. So many Troyan was tho at his backe. That in his flyinge he had go to wracke. ¶Wherfore anone this worthy Dyomede, With cruell herte faste gan hym spede, And towarde him proudely for to dreffe, But this archer by great aduysenesse, Fyrst with an arrowe smytte Dyomede,

Thrugh his harneys that he made him blede, Of whiche stroke he wexed so wood & wroth, That to this monstre so hydous and so loth, He went a pase and hym vnarmed fonde. And with y^t sworde that he helde in his honde, He gaue to hym his laste fattall wounde. That he fell dead grouelynge vnto y^e ground. The death of whom grekes reioysynge, And in all haste their hertes resumynge, Began them selfe for to recomforte. And into fyelde proudely they resorte. ¶By conueyinge of Policenare, The worthy Duke that so well hym bare, Vpon Troyans that day in the fyelde. But whan Hector the slaught of him behelde, Vpon this Duke anone he gan to sette. And on their stedes fyersly as they mette, ¶Hector hym slewe of full great hatrede, And after that on Gallathe his stede, So as he rode forth amonge the prese, Or he was ware he mette with Achylles, And with their speres longe large and round, In purpose fully eche other to confounde, They ran yfeare yrous and right wrothe. That with the stroke they were vnhorsed both ¶But Achylles with a dispyteous herte, Fyrst as I reade into his sadell sterte, And busy was with all his inwarde peyne, Gallathe to taken by the reyne, Therof for euer Hector to depryue. And bad his men to lede it home as blyue. So that Hector there was none other bote, Full lyke a man faught standyng on his fote. Amonges the grekes and his fomen all. And to his knightes loude he gan to call, For his stede that they shulden sewe, And they in haste his horse to rescue. Ben attones fallen vpon Achylle. ¶And maugre him of force agayne his will, They haue from hym berafte it on the plaine, And vnto Hector restored it agayne. Which in knighthod so moche him self assureth In their dispyte his sadell he recureth, Whiche afterwarde full dere they aboughte. For lyke a lyon all that day he wrought. Amonges them rydyng here and there, And as the death they fled his sword for fere, Through whose manhod troians efte begyn, Vpon grekes the fielde agayne to wyn. ¶But it befell amyd their great fyght, That Anthenor a certayne Troyan knight, Amonge the prese is so fer ygone, That of grekes he was take anone. And to their tentes sent in haste he was, Albe his sonne called Pollydamas, To rescue hym dyd his dylygence. So manfully that no neclygence, Was founde in hym who so lyste to seke. And that full dere a bought many greke, The same day through his worthynesse. But for cause onely of derckenesse, And for that it gan drawe towarde nyght. They made an ende onely for lacke of lyghte. And grekes went home to their lodgyng, And eke Troyans tyll on the mornyng, ¶That Pheb{us} gan his bryght beames shew. And Aurora newe gan to dewe. The herbes sote and the grene leues, Both on hayes and in freshe greues. Syluer bryght with rounde perles fyne. That so clerely agayne the sonne shyne, And shewe them selfe so oryent and shene, On hylle and vale and on euery grene, The rody morowe tyll the hote beames, Of bryght Phebus with his fyry stemes, Vapoureth vp their moysture into ayre. The wether cleare agreable and fayre, And attempre also of his hete. Whan the Troians caste them for to mete, With their fomen platly if they maye. And out they went in their beste arraye, With their wardes into fyelde by rowe. ¶Agaynst whom grekes were not slowe, But shope them forth without longer lette, Tyll they togyther manfully haue mette. And with their speres and their swordes clere They ran together with a dispyteous chere, Tyll shyuered was a sonder many spere. On sheldes stronge them selfe for to were, And ryuen was on peces many targe, And with axes rounde brode and large, On basenettes as they tho smyte and shrede, Full many knyght mortally gan blede. In sothfastnesse and as I tell can, The same day was slayne many a man, On outher parte but most of Troye towne. Albe Guydo maketh no mencyowne. Of no person as in specyall.

On nouther syde but in generall, Saue he concludeth playnely that this fyght, Lasted fro morowe tyl that it was nyght. The which Troyans haue ful dere abought. For that day fortune holpe them nought, But tourned hole to their confusyowne, And so they be repeyred to the towne. And to their tentes grekes fast them spede. ¶Till on the morowe they senten Dyomede, With Vlixes to Troye the cytie, For a trewes onely for monthes thre. If kyng Pryam therto wolde assente. And as they two on this message wente, A certayne knyght borne of Troye towne, That hyght Dolon of great discreciowne, And also was ryght famous of rychesse, Of curtesy and of gentylnesse, His deuer dyd and his diligence, Them to conueye vnto the presence, ¶Of Pryamus in his paleys royall. And in his sea most chyefe and pryncipall. Where as he satte his lordes enuirowne, With many knyght full worthy of renowne. They gan to hym fyrst to specyfye, Hooly the substaunce of their embassadrye. And of the trewes theyr entent they tolde. If it so were that he assent wolde. And the kyng benyngnely them herde, And by aduyse prudently answerde, That thervpon his honour for to saue, At good leyser he wolde a counsayle haue. With his lordes and fully hym gouerne, In this matter lyke as they discerne. ¶And to conclude shortly euerychone, Assented be except Hector alone, Vnto the trewes and wolde it not denye. But Hector sayde that of trecherye, Onely of slaughter and false treason, Their axynge was vnder occasyon, Fyrste to burye grekes that weren dead, And vnder coloure therof out of dread, Afterwarde them selfe to vyttayle. For he well knewe that their stuffe gan fayle. And enfamyned leste they shulden dye, They sought a space them selfe to purueye. By outwarde sygnes that he dyd espye. Wherfore quod he me lyketh not to lye, By apparaunce as I dare presume, Whyles that we waste thus and consume, Oure stuffe within as it is to dreade, They wyll prouyde of what y^t they haue nede, For all that is to them auauntage, Myght be to vs hyndryng and damage. And whyles that they encreasen and amende, We shall our store discrease and dispende. Yet neuerthelesse how euer that it be, Touchyng this trewes as for monthes thre, Sythen ye all assent and it accorde, From your sentence I will not discorde. In no wyse as to be varyaunt. And thus the trewes confirmed was by graūt On outher syde they thought for the beste. Bycause they shulde in quyet and in reste, The meane whyle ease them and releue. And they that felte their woundes sore greue, Myght leyser haue their sores to recure. And in y^t meane while trewes did thus endure They fell in treatee and in communyng, ¶Of Anthenor and of Thoas the kyng. That Anthenor delyuered shulde be, For kyng Thoas to Troye the cyte. ¶And Thoas shuld to grekes home againe, By this enchaunge as ye haue herd me saine, One for an other as it accorded was. ¶And in this while y^e troian byshop Calchas, Remembred hym vpon his doughter dere, Called Cryseyde with her eyen clere, Whom in Troye he had lefte behynde, Whē he went thense as bokes maken mynde: For whom he felte passyngly great smerte, So tenderly she was sette at his herte. And enprented both at eue and morowe, And chiefe cause and grounde of al his sorowe For she was lefte behynde him in the towne. Without comforte or consolaciowne. As he caste sothly in his absence. And specially for his great offence, That he hath wrought agaynst thē of Troye, And as hym thought he shuld neuer haue ioye Tyll he his doughter recured hath agayne. ¶Wherfore Calchas the story sayth certaine, In his wyttes many wayes caste, How he best might while the trewes doth last, Recure his doughter by some maner waye. And as I fynde vpon a certayne daye, In his porte wonder humbly, With wepyng eye wente full pyteously, In his complaynyng of teares albe reyned.

Whose inwarde wo sothly was not feyned, And on his knees anone he falleth downe, Tofore the great kyng Agamenowne, Besechynge hym with all humilite, Of very mercy and of hyghe pyte, With other kynges syttyng in the place, To haue routhe and for to do hym grace, And on his wo to haue compassyon. That he maye haue restitucion, Of his doughter whom he loued so. Praying them all their deuer for to do, That through their prudent mediacyon, For Anthenor that was in their pryson, With kyng Thoas she myght eschaunged be. If that them lyste of their benignite. To his requeste goodly to assent. And they him graunt & forth anone they sent, To kyng Pryam for to haue Creseyde, For Calchas sake and therwith al they leyde, The charge for her wonder specially, On them that went for this embassadrye. ¶To Troye towne and to kynge Pryamus, To whom Calchas was so odyus, So hatefull eke throughout all the towne, That this reporte was of him vp and downe, That he a treatour was and also false, Worthy to be enhonged by the halse. For his treason and his doublenesse. And euermore they sayd eke expresse, That he deserued hath by ryght of lawe, Shamefully fyrste for to be drawe, And afterwarde the moste horryble death, That he may haue to yelden vp the breth, Lyke as a treatour in as dyspyteous wyse, As any herte can thyncke or deuyse. Eueryche affyrmyng as by iudgement, That death was none fully equypollent, To his deserte nor to his falsenesse, As yonge and olde playnely bare wytnesse. Concludyng eke for his iniquyte, That they wolde assent in no degree, Vnto nothyng that myght his herte please. Nor of Creseyde for to do hym ease. They caste not to make delyueraunce. Leuer they had to gyuen hym mischaunce, If they hym myght haue as at good large. ¶But fynally the effect of all this charge, Is so ferforth dryuen to an ende, That Priamus hath graūted she shal wende, With kyng Thoas shortly there no more, Vnto her father for Dan Anthenore. Who euer grutche the kyng in parlement, Hath thervpon geuen iudgement, So vtterly it may not be repealed, For with his worde the sentence was assealed That she must parte with her eyen glade. And of the sorowe playnely that she made, At his departynge hereafter ye shall here, Whan it agayne cometh to my matere.

¶How duryng a trewes of .iii. monthes Hoc∣tor walked into the grekes hooste, and of the talke hadde betwyxte Achylles and hym. Capitulo .xxv.

THe truse affyrmed as ye haue herd deuise On outher syde of them y^t were full wise, And full assented of them euerychone, Tyll three monthes comen be and gone. Lyke as I reade on a certayne daye, Whan agreable was the morowe graye, Blandyshyng and pleasaunt of delyte, Hector in harte caught an appetyte, Lyke as Guydo lyketh for to wryte, The same daye he wolde grekes vysyte, Full well besene and wonder rychely. With many worthy in his companye. Of suche as he for the nones chese, And to the tent fyrst of Achylles, I fynde in soth that this Troyan knyght, Vpon his stede hath take the weye ryght. Full lyke a man as made is mencion. ¶Nowe had Achylles great affection, In his herte both by daye and nyght, Of worthy Hector for to haue a syght. For neuer yet by none occasyon, He myght of hym haue full inspection, Nor hym beholde at good lyberte. For vnarmed he myght hym neuer se. But wonder knightly aswell in porte & chere. They had them both as they mette yfere, And ryght manly in their countenaunce, And at the laste they fell in dalyaunce. ¶But Achylles fyrst began abreyde, And vnto hym euen thus he sayde. Hector quod he full pleasynge is to me, That I at leyser naked may the se. Syth I of the neuer myght haue syght,

But whan thou were armed as a knyght. And now to me it shalbe full greuous, Whiche am to the so inly enuyous, But thou of me there is no more to sayne, Be slayne anone with my handes twayne. For this in soth were hooly my pleasaunce. By cruell death to take on the vengeaunce. For I full ofte in werre and eke in fyght, Haue felte the vertue and the great myght, Of thy force. through many woundes kene, That vpon me full freshe byn and grene, In many place by shedyng of my bloud. Thou were on me so furyous and wood, Aye compassynge to my destructiowne, For many a mayle of myne haberiowne, Thy sharpe swerde racyd hath a sonder. And cruelly seuered here and yonder. And mortally as I can sygnes shewe, My plates stronge persed and yhewe, And my harneys forged bryght of stele, Myght neuer yet assured be so wele, In thyne yre whan thou lyste to smyte, That thy sworde ne wolde them kerne & byte, Into my fleshe full depe and full profounde. As sheweth yet by many mortall wounde, On my body large longe and wyde, That yet appere vpon euery syde, And day by day full sore ake and smerte. For whiche thynge me semeth that my herte, Enbolleneth newe nowe whan I the see. Of hyghe despyte auenged for to be. So am I fret of olde enuious rage, That it may neuer in my brest aswage, Tyll the vengeaunce and the fatall sute, Of cruell death be on the execute. ¶And of one thyng most is my greuaunce, That whan I haue fully remembraunce, And in my mynde consyder vp and downe, Howe thou hast made fynall deuysyowne, ¶Of me alas and of hym Patroclus, So yonge, so manly, and so vertuous. Whom I loued as it was skylle and ryght, Euen as my selfe with all my full myght. With as hoole herte and inly kyndnesse, As an tongue may telle or expresse. Now hast thou made a departisyon, Of vs that were by hole affection, Yknyt in one of hertie allyaunce. Without partyng or disseueraunce. So entyerly our faythfull hertes twayne, Ylaced were and locked in a chayne, Whiche myght not for none aduersyte, Of lyfe nor death a sonder twynned be. Tyll cruelly thou madest vs departe. Which thrugh my hert so inwardly doth darte That it wyll neuer in soth out of my thought. And trusteth well ful dere shalbe bought. The death of hym and be nothyng in were, Perauenture or ended be this yere. For vpon the onely for his sake, Of cruell deth vengeaunce shalbe take, I the ensure without other bonde. If I may lyue with myne owne hande, I shall of death do execucyon. Without abode or longe delacyon. For ryght requireth without any dreade, Death for death for his fynall mede. For I my selfe theron shall be wroke. That through y^e world hereafter shalbe spoke How Achylles was venged on his soe, ¶For Patroclus that he loued so. And though that I be to the enuyous, And of thy death inly desyrous, Ne wete me not nor put on me no blame. For well I wotte thou arte to me the same. And hast my death many day desyred, And thervpon inwardly conspyred, And thus shortely as atwene vs two, There is but death without wordes mo. Whan fortune lyst the tyme thereto shape. I hope fully thou shalte not escape, Truste none other I saye the vtterly. ¶To whom Hector not to hastely, Answerde againe with sober countenaunce, Auysed well in all his dalyaunce, As he that was in nothyng rekles, ¶And euen thus he spake to Achylles. Syr Achylles without any fayle, Thou ne oughtest greatly to meruayle, Though with my power and my full myghte, With herte and will of very dewe ryght, Day by day I thy death conspyre. And euer in one it compasse and desyre. And do my laboure early and eke late, It to pursue by full cruell hate, Thou oughtest not to wonder in no wyse. But fully knowe by sentence of the wyse, In no maner who so taketh hede,

Of ryghtwysenesse it may not then procede, That other I or any other wyght, Should do him loue that with al his myght, My death purseweth and destruction. And ouer this to more confusyon, Hath layde a syege aboute this Cyte. On my kinrede and also vpon me. And thervpon felly doth presume, With mortall hate of werre to consume, Vs euerychone ywysse I can not fynde, In my herte as by lawe of kynde, Suche one to loue of ryght nor equyte. Nor haue him chere sothly in no degre. For of werre may no frendlyhead, Nor of debate loue aryght procede. ¶For sothly loue most in speciall, Of faythfulnesse hath the orygenall. In hertes ioyned by conuenyence, Of one accorde whom no difference, Of doubylnesse may in no degre, Nother in ioye nor in aduersyte, For lyfe nor death asunder nor disseuer. For where loue is it contuneth euer. ¶But of hate all is the contrarye. Of whych sothly from hert{is} when they varye Procedeth rancoure at eye as men maye se, Debate, enuye, stryfe and enmyte, Mortall slaughter both to nygh and ferre. Mother of whyche in sothfastnes is werre. The fyne wherof longe or it be do, Seuereth hertes and frendship cutte atwo. And causeth loue to be leyde full lowe. ¶But for all this I wil that thou knowe, Thy proude wordes in herte nor in thoughte, In very sothe agasten me ryght nought. And if I shall furthermore out breake, Without auaunt the trouthe for to speake, I saye the playnly hense or two yeare, If I maye lyue in the werres here, And my swerde of knighthod forthe acheue, I hope in sothe so mortally to greue, The Grekes all when I with thē maye mete That they and thou shall fele it full vnswete. If ye contynue and the werres haunte. I shal your pryde and surquedrye adaunte, In suche a wise with my handes two, That or the werre fully be ado, Well many greke full sore shall it rewe. For well I wote of olde and not of newe, That the grekes gathered here in one, Of surquedrye are founde euerychone, Onely for lacke of discrescion, To vndertake of presumpcion, So highe a thinge a syege for to layne. And your selfe to ouer charge in vayne. With empryses withouten any fable, That byn to you of weyght importable. And the peys of so great heuynesse, That fynally it will you all oppresse, And your pride auale and lowe enclyne. Which burthē shall enbowe backe and chyne, And vnwarely causen you to fall. Or ye haue done I saye to one and all. ¶And ouer more be full in suerte, ¶Thou Achilles I speake this vnto the. That fatall deathe first shall the assayle, Tofore thy swerde in any thynge auayle. Agaynst me for all thy worthynesse. ¶And if so be that so great hardynesse, Courage of wyll, vygour force or myght, Meue thy herte by manhode as a knyght, To take on the as in derryng do, For to darreyne here betwene vs two, Thilke quarell how so that befall, For the whych that we stryue all. I wyll assent playnly to ieoparde, Tyll that the death one of vs departe, There is no more but that these lordes here, Kinges and prynces wyll accorde yfere, That it be do fully by one assent. And holde stable of herte and of entente, So that the felde onely by vs tweyne, As I haue sayde this quarell may darreyne, And ended be by this condiciowne That if it happe through thy highe renowue, Me to venquishe or dryue to outtraunce, I will you make fully assuraunce, That fyrst my lorde Priamus the kinge, Shall vnto grekes in all maner thinge, With crowne and sceptre holy him submitte, And in a poynt varye nother flytte, Fully to yelde to our subiectiowne, All his lordship within Troye towne. ¶And his lyeges in captyuytye. Shall go theyr waye out of this cyte. And leue it quyte as to your gouernaunce, Without stryfe or any varyaunce, And thervpon to make securyte,

To deuoyde all ambyguyte, Tofore the goddes by othe of sacrament, We shall be swore in full good entente. And ouermore our fayth also to saue, To assure you in pledge ye shall haue, The meane whyle and kepe thē on your side, At your choyse hostages to abyde. From Troye towne of the worthiest, That ye lyst chese and also of the beste. So that ye shall of nothyng be in were, Of all that euer that I saye you here. ¶And Achilles without wordes mo, If that you lyste accorde therunto, That I haue sayd thy honour to encrease, To make this werre sodaynly to cease, That lykly is for to laste longe, Betwene Troians and the Grekes stronge, Thou shalt not onely w^t honour & with fame, Throughout the worlde winnen the a name, But therwithall and that is not a lyte, Thrugh thy knighthod to many man profite, That fro the death shall escape alyue. And to his countre hole and sounde aryue. That lykly are by cruell aduenture, For to be dead if the werre endure. Come of therfore and let not be prolonged, But let the daye atwene vs two be ioyned. As I haue sayd in condiciowne, If in diffence onely of this towne, I haue victorye by fortune ouer the, I axe not elles but anone that ye, Breake vp siege and the werre lete, And suffer vs to lyuen in quyete, Into Grece home when ye are gone. To which thinge Achilles there anone, Hote in his yre and furyous also, Brenning full hote for anger and for wo, Assented is with a despytous cheare. ¶And gan anone to Hector dresse him nere, And sayd he would delyuer him vtterly, Fro poynt to poynt his axynge by and by, And therin made none excepciowne, But of hole herte and entencion. His requeste accepted euery dell. And as it semed leked it right well. And for his parte he caste his gloue adowne, In sygne and token of confirmaciowne, For lyfe or death that he will holde this daye, Agayne Hector happe what happe maye. Vnto the which Hector lyfely sterte, And toke it vp with as glad an herte, As euer yet did any man or knyght, That quarell toke with his foe to fight. There can no man in sothe a ryght deuyse, How glad he was of this high empryse. ¶Of whych the noyse and the great sowne, Ran to the eares of kinge Agamenowne. And he anone him selfe came to the tente, With all the lordes of his parliament, ¶Where Achilles and Hector were yfere, To wytte their will as in this mattere, Where they would assenten fynally, To put the quarell full in Ieopardy, Of other parte atwene these knightes tweyn As ye haue herde fully to dareyne. ¶And with one voyce Grekes it denye, And sayde they nolde of suche a companye. Of kinges, Dukes, and of Lordes eke also, Bothe life and death Ieoparte atwene two. Nor to the course of fortune theim submitte, That can all daye her face chaunge & flytte. And some of Troye in conclusyowne, Ieoparde ne wold their liues nor their towne In the handes onely of a knight, To put all in auenture of fyght. ¶Pryam except whyche sothly in this case, Within him selfe fully assented was, Playnly to put and sette in Ieopardye, Hooly the honour of his regallye. Supposynge aye as made is memorye, That Hector shoulde haue had the victorye, Of this empryse if he toke it on hande. ¶But for Priam might not tho withstande, Agayne so many of one entencion, That were contrarye to his opynion, Bothe of Grekes and on Troye syde, He helde his peace and let it ouer slyde, And so the Grekes parted be echone. ¶And Hector is from Achilles gone, Home to Troye where I him leue a whyle, Whiles that I dyrecten shall my stile, To tell of Troylus the lamentable wo, Which that he made to parte his lady fro.

ALas fortune gery and vnstable, And redy aye for to be chaungeable, Whē folke most trust in thy stormye face, Like their desyre the fully to embrace,

Then is thy ioye away to tourne and writhe, Wpon wretches thy power for to kythe. Record of Troylus y^t from the whele so lowe, By false enuye thou hast ouerthrowe. Out of the ioye whych that he was in, From his lady to make hym for to twynne. When he best wende for to haue be sured, And of the woe that he hath endured, I muste nedely helpe hym to complayne. Whych that in herte felte so great payne, So inwarde wo and so great distresse, More than I haue cunning to expresse, When that he knewe the partynge of Creseyd Almost for wo and for payne he deyed. And fully wiste that she departe shal, By sentence and by iudgement fynall, Of his father gyuen in parlyamente, For which with wo and tourment al to rente, He was in poynt to haue fallen in rage, That no man might appease nor aswage, The hidde paynes which in his brest gā dare. For lyke a man in furye he gan fare, And such sorowe daye and nyght to make, In complayninge onely for her sake. For when he sawe that she should aweye, He leuer had playnly for to deye, Than to lyue behinde in her absence. For him thought without her presence He was but dead there is no more to sayne. And into teares he gan to berayne, With which his eyen gan for to bollen, And in his brest the sighes tho vppe swollen, And the sobbynge of his sorowes depe, That he ne can not do but rore and wepe, So sore loue his herte gan constrayne. And she ne felte not a litle payne, But wepte also and piteously gan crye, Desyringe aye that she might do dye, Rather than parte fro him out of Troye. Her owne knyght her lust her lyues ioye. That by her chekes the teares downe destyll, And fro her eyen the teares round drops tryl That all fordewed haue her blacke wede, And eke vntrussed her heyre abrode gā sprede Lyke golde wyre forrent and all to torne, Yplucked of and not with sheres shorne. And ouer this her freshe rosen hewe, Whilom ymeynt with whyte lylyes newe, With wofull wepynge pyteously disteyned, And like the herbes in April all bereyned, Or floures freshe with the dewes swete, Right so her chekes moyste were and wete. With cristall water vp ascendinge hye, Out of her brest into her heauenly eye, And aye amonge her lamentaciowne, Full ofte sythe she fell in swowne adowne, Deadly pale fordimmed in her syghte, And ofte sayde alas myne owne knight, Mine owne Troilus alas why shal we parte Rather let death with his spere darte, Through my herte and the vaynes kerue, And with his rage do me for to sterue, Rather alas than fro my knight to twinne. ¶And of this wo Oh death that I am in, Why nilt thou come & helpe to make an ende, For how shulde I out of Troye wende, He abyde and I to Grekes gone, There to dwell amonge my cruell fone. Alas alas I wofull creature, How shoulde I there in the werre endure, I wretched woman but my selfe alone, Amonge the men of armes euerychone. Thus gan she crye all the longe daye, This was her playnte with full great affray. Her pyteous noyse till it drewe to night, That vnto her her owne trewe knight, Full tryst and heauy came agaynes eue, If he might ought comforte or releue. ¶But he in sothe hath this Creseyde founde, All in a swowne liyng on the grounde. And pyteously vnto her he wente, With wofull cheare and her in armes hente. And toke her vp and then atwene theim two. Began of newe suche a deadly wo, That it was routhe and pyte for to sene, For she of cheare pale was and grene. And he of coloure like to ashes deade, And fro her face gone was all the red. And in his chekes deuoyded was the bloude, So wofully atwene theim two it stode, For she ne might not a worde yspeake, And he was redy with deathe to be wreke, Vpon him selfe his naked swerde besyde. And she full ofte gan to the grounde glyde. Out of his armes as she fell a swowne, And he him selfe gan in teares drowne. She was as stille and dombe as any stone, He had a mouthe but wordes had he none.

The wery spyryte flykered in his brest, That of the death stode tho vnder a reste, Without maynpryse sothly as of lyfe. And thus there was as it semed a stryfe, Whiche of theim two shulde fyrste ypasse. For death portrayed both in herte and face, With coloure such as men go to theyr graue. And thus in wo they gan togyther raue, Disconsolate all the longe nyght. That in good fayth yf here I should aryght, The processe hole of theyr bothe sorowe, That they made till the next morowe, From poynt to poynt do it specifye, All to longe it would me occupye, Of euery thynge to make mencion. And tarye me in my translacion. If so I shoulde in her wo procede, But me semeth that it is no nede, ¶Syth my maister Chaucer here afore, In this matter hath so well him bore, In his boke of Troylus and Creseyde, Whych he mayde longe or that he deyed, Rehersyng first how Troilus was cōtrayre, For to ascende vp on loues stayre. And how that he for all his surquedrye. After became one of the compaynye, Of loues folke for all his olde game. Whan Cupide had subdued him full tame, And brought him lowe to his subiectiowne. In a temple as he walked vp and downe, When he his gynnes and his hookes leyde, Amid the eyen cercled of Creseyde, Whych on that daye he might not asterte, For through his brest perced hath his herte. He went him home pale dead and wan, And in this wise Troylus first began, To be a seruaunt my mayster telleth thus, Till he was after holpe of Pandarus. Through whose comforte and mediacion, As in his boke is made relacion. With great laboure fyrst he came to grace, And so continueth by many yeares space. Till gery fortune gan vpon him frowne, That she fro him must go out of the towne, All sodaynly and sythe him se. Lo here the ende of false felycite. Lo here the ende of worldly brotilnesse, Of fleshly lust lo here thunstablenesse, Lo here the double variacion, Of wordly blisse and transmutacion. This daye in myrthe and in wo to morowe, For aye the fine alas of ioye is sorowe, For now Creseyde with the kinge Thoas, For Anthenor shall forth gon alas, Vnto Grekes and euer with theim dwell. ¶The hole storye Chaucer can you tell. If that ye lyst no man better alyue, Nor the processe halfe so well discriue. For he our englyshe gilt with his sayes, Rude and boystous firste by olde dayes. That was full fer from all parfection, And but of lytell reputacion. Till that he came and with his poetrye, Gan our tunge first to magnifye, And adourne it with his eloquence. To whom honour laude and reuerence, Throughout this lande giuen be and songe, So that the laurer of our englishe tonge, Be to him giuen for his excellence. Right as whilom by ful high sentence, Perpetually for a memoriall, ¶Of Columpna by the Cardinall, To Petrack fraūceis was giuen in Italye, That the reporte neuer after fayle. Nor the honour dirked of his name, To be registred in the house of fame, Amonge other in the highest sete. My mayster Galfride as for chiefe Poete, That euer was yet in our language, The name of whom shall pallen in none age, But euer yliche without eclipsing shine, And for my parte I will neuer fine, So as I can him to magnifye, In my writinge plianly till I dye. And god I praye his soule bringe in ioye, ¶And where I lefte I wil agayne of troye, The storye tell and first how that he Guydo, Within his boke thus speaketh Troylus to. Rebuking him full vncurteysly, That he so sette his herte folyly, Vpon Creseyde full of doubilnesse. For in his boke as Guydo list expresse, That her teares and her complayninge, Her wordes white softe and blandishinge, Were meynt with fayning & with flatterye, And outward farsed with many a false lye. For vnderhid was all the varyaunce, Cured aboue with fayned countenaunce.

As women can falsly teres borowe, In theyr herte though there be no sorowe, Lyke as they would of very trouthe deye, They can thynke one and an other say, As a serpent vnder floures fayre, His venym hydeth where he doth repayre, The sugre afore the galle hydde behinde, As propered is aye vnto theyr kynde. To be dyuerse and double of nature, Rathest deceyuing when men most assure. For vnder coloure euery thynge they werke, The fayre aboue the foule in the dercke, They hydde so that no man may espye. And though so be that wyth a wofull eye, They can outwarde wepe pyteously, The tother eye can laugh couertly. Whose sorowes all are tempred with alleys, And theyr coloure is euer meynt with rayes, For vpon chaunge and mutabylyte, Stande hole theyr truste and theyr suerte. So that they be sure in doubylnesse, And alway double in theyr sikernesse, Seminge one when they best can varye, Lykest to a corde when they be contrarye. And thus they be most varyaunt in accorde, And hoolest seme when there is discorde. And Guido sayth how there are fewe or none That in herte apayed is in one, And yet they can be it to one or twayne, To thre or foure in theyr speche fayne, Lyke as they were to one and to no mo, Hoole in theyr loue for well and eke for wo. That eneryche shall of hym selfe deme, That he be next lyke as he doth seme. And thus in hope stādeth eche in of theim all, The trewest aye redyest forto fall. Who serueth best next to be appayred. And thus in chaunge all theyr loue is fayred, Let no man truste but catche when he maye, Farewell to morow though it be sure to daye. The fayre of chaunge lasteth all the yeare. But it is folye for to bye to deare, Thilke treasour whyche harde is to possede, But flieth away when men therof most nede. And yf it happe that no chapman be, As sayth Guydo yet all daye men maye se, It sheweth out at large fenestralles, On chaumbers high & lowe downe in halles. And in windowes eke in euery strete, And also eke men maye wyth theim mete, At Pylgramage and oblacions, At spectacles in Cityes and in townes, As sayth Guydo and all is for to selle. But after him I can no further telle, And eke he sayth in his sentement, There is no fraude fully equypolent, To the fraude and sleyghty compassinge, Of a woman nor lyke in their workyng. For who that set all his faithfulnesse, Wening in theim to finde stablenesse, He shall theim fynde stedfast as the mone, That is in poynt for to chaunge soone. If he be yonge they caste him in rage, If he be olde he falleth in dotage. Wherfore my counsayle is to bothe two, Caste of the brydell and lightly let theim go. ¶This teacheth Guido god wote and not I That hath delite to speake cursedly, Alway of women throughout all his boke. As men maye se who so lyst to loke. To theim he hadde enuye in specyall, That in good fayth I am right wrothe w^t al. That he with theim lyst so to debate, For yre of which the Latin to translate. Inwardly my hert I felte blede. Of high dispite his clauses for to rede, That resowned in conclusiowne, Onely of malyce to accusasiowne, Of those women full euyll mote he thriue. So generally their secte do descryue, Whiche made not through in discrecion, Of good nor badde none excepcion. He was to blame foule mote he falle, For cause of one for to hynder all. For I dare well affyrmen by the rode, Agayne one bad their ben an hundred good. And though some one double be and newe, It hyndreth not to them that be trewe. And by example also though he shewe, That some one whylom was a shrewe, They that be good take shall no hede, For it no hinderinge is to womanheade. Though twaine or thre can double be & faine For there agayne sothly at Colayne, Of vyrgyns weren inly full of grace. A leuen thousande in that holy place. A man may fynde and in our kalender, Full many mayde parfyt and enter,

Which to the death stable were and trewe, For some of theim with the rosen hewe, Of Marterdome the blysse of heauen wonne And some also as bokes telle konne, With the lylye of vyrgynyte, And vyolettes of parfyte chastyte. Ascenden be aboue the sterres cleare. And the sercle of the nynthe sphere. Where ioye is aye with gladnesse eterne. Wherfore in sothe as I can discerne, Though some clerk{is} of shrewes haue missaid Let no good woman therof be mispayde, For lacke of one all are not to blame. And eke of men maye be sayde the same, For to the trewe it is no reprefe, Though it be so another be a thefe. For what is he the worse in his degre, Though that the other be hanged on a tree. Nor vnto women hinderyng it is none, Amonge an hundred though y^t there be one, Of gouernaunce that be vicious. For there agayne that byn ful vertuous, Yf that ye lyst a thousande ye may fynde. And though Guido write they haue of kinde, To be double men shoulde it goodly take, And there agayn no maner grutching make. Nature in workynge hath full great powere, And it were harde for any that is here, The course of her to holde or to restreyne, For she will not be guyded by no reyne, To be coarted of her dewe righte, Therfore eche man with all his full might, Shoulde thanke god and taketh paciently. For yf women be double naturelly, Why shulde men laye on theim the blame. For though min auctour hīder so their name In his writynge onely of Cryseyde, And vpon her such a blame leyde, My counsayle is lyghtly ouerpasse. Where he myssayth of her in any place. To hyndre women other eue or morowe, Taketh no hede but let theim be wyth sorow. And passe it ouer where ye list not rede. Tyll ye be come where that Diomede, For he was sente into Troye towne. Where ceryously as is made menciowne, Fyrst how that she to him delyuered was, ¶For Anthenor and for the kinge Thoas. And how Troylus gan her to conueye, With many other to brynge her on the weye. ¶And after this how that Dyomede, By the waye gan her brydell lede, Tyll he her brought to her fathers tent. And how that Calchas in full good entent, Receyued her lodged there he laye, And her speche duryng all that daye, And all the maner hole and euerydele, All is rehersed ceryously and wele, In Troylus boke as ye haue herde me saine, To wryte it ofte I holde it were but vayne. ¶But Guydo sayth longe or it was nyght, How Cryseyde hath forsake her owne knight And gaue her herte vnto this Diomede. Of tendernesse and of womanhede. That Troylus in her herte is now as colde, Without fyre as byn these asshes olde. I can none other accusacion, But onely kyndes transmutacyon, That is appropryed vnto her nature. Selde or neuer stable to endure. By experyence as men maye ofte lere. But nowe to tourne agayne to my matere, I must resorte though that I be ferre, As I began to wryten of the werre.

¶Of their battayles after that trewse, the descripcion of the Pallase of Ilion, of a great pestylence in the grekes hoste, whereby they were enforced to seke for trewse, whiche vpon their suyte they obteyned for thyrtye dayes. Capitulo. xxvi.

THe tyme passed of the trewse ytake, the next morow whā Titā hath forsake, The vnder partye of their hemysperye, Where al the night he had be full merye, With Aurora liynge by his syde. But in his bed hym lyst no longer byde, But shope him vp & caste his streames shene, ¶On Troy wall whan Hector armed clene, Into the fyelde faste gan hym hye. With fyftene thousande in his companye, Of worthy knyghtes and of manly men. And as I fynde Troylus had tenne, Of knyghtes eke that his baner sewe. And in all hast Parys gan remewe, Out of the towne with them of Perce londe, With eche of thē a mighty bowe in his honde,

And arrowes sharpe trussed by their syde. And of knyghtes that aboute him ryde, He had also thre thousande as I fynde. ¶And Deiphobus next him came behynde, With thre thousande knightes armed clene, On whose plates the sonne shone full shene, ¶And nexte hym came the Troyan Eneas, And as I reade sothīy that there was, The same day with them of Troye towne, An hundred thousande knyghtes of renown, Lyke as recordeth Dares Frygyus. And in his boke Guydo writeth thus. ¶And with the grekes all toforre that day, With seuen thousande goeth Menelay. Knyghtes echone whiche he tho dyd lede, And with as many went this Dyomede. And next them seweth the hardy Achylles, With his mayne called Myrmydones. ¶And zantipus the worthy kyng eke had, Thre thousand knight{is} which w^t hym he lad, Into the fyelde agayn them of the towne. And alderlaste the great Agamenowne, With suche a nombre of the grekes felle, That wonder is for to heren telle. And whan the wardes in the felde abrode, Had take their place without more abode, ¶A grekyshe kyng which that Phillis hight, Anone as he of Hector had a syght, Towardes hym syttynge on his stede. With his spere he gan him faste spede, But when Hector hath his commynge sayne, He hente a spere and rode to hym agayne, And through his shyelde & his plates rounde, He gaue to hym hys laste fatall wounde. Vpon whose deth auenged for to be, Full many greke gan on Hector flee. And fyrst of all the worthy kyng famous, ¶That of grekes was called zantypus, Of hye disdayne onely for Phyllys sake, Towarde Hector hath his course ytake, And with a spere ran at him full ryght, But Hector fyrst hyt him with suche a might, Through his harneys with his speres head, That zantyhus fell to the grounde deade. The death of whom the grekes sore cōplaine And dyd their myght and their busy payne. On euery halfe furyous and wood, Them to auenge on the Troyans bloud. And through their passyng cruell hardynesse, They gan Troyans tho so sore oppresse, That many one that day ne myght asterte, Through the brest yperced and the herte, For to be dead and slayne amonge the prese. Amonge whiche cruell Achylles, Slewe Lychaon and Eutorbyus, Noble knyghtes ryght worthy and famous. That were ycome out of their countre, Agayne grekes to helpen the citie. And while troians cōstrained were so narow Were it with spere quarell darte or arowe, Hector was wounded throughout the vyser, Into the face that lyke a ryuer, The red bloud downe began to rayle. By his harneys through his auentayle, Wherof astoned whan they had a syght, Full many Troyan toke hym to the flyght, And to the cyte faste gan them drawe. And in the chase full many one was slawe. Or they myght efte out of the felde remewe. And euer in one grekes after sewe, Vnto the walles almost of the towne. Tyll that Hector the Troyan champyowne, Of his knyghthode gan to taken hede, Albe his wounde sore gan to blede. Yet of manhode he gan them recomforte, And maugre them into the fyelde resorte, Namely whan he had inspectiowne, On the walles and toures of the towne. How that Heleyne and Heccuba the quene, And his syster fayre Polycene, With many other lady gan beholde, Hym thought anone his herte gan to colde, Of very shame his knygytes shulden flee. And lyke a Lyon in his crueltee, He made theim tourne manly euerychone, And in his waye he meteth Meryon, A grekyshe kinge that was nygh of allye, To Achilles as bookes specifye. And with his sworde Hector smote him so, That he his bodye clouen hath on two. And when Achilles sawe that he was deade, Parted atwo euen fro the head, He hēt a spere and thought he ne would fayl, To hyt Hector through shelde plate & mayle, And rode to him tho full enuyously, And myd the shelde he smet him cruelly. But with the stroke Hector neuer adell, Remeueth not he sat so faste and well.

But with his swerde anone & taryeth nought He to Achylles with enuyous thought, But knyghtly ran vpon his coursere, And on his creste that shone so bright & clere, With such a myght Hector hath hym smyt, That he perced throughe his basenet, And raced eke from his auentayle, With that stroke many pece of mayle. That Achylles constrayned was of nede, Maugre his myght to stagre on his stede. To enclyne and to bowe his backe, At whiche tyme Hector to hym spake. And sayde Achylles I do well aduerte, The great enuye of thy cruell herte, And specyally that thou haste to me. But be well ware therfore I counsayle the, Thy selfe to put so farre in aduenture, For of one thynge I playnely the ensure, As I desyre at my luste some daye, Here in the fyelde yf I the mete may, Trust me ryght wel there gayneth no socour, That I ne shal acquyten thy labour, So mortally I do the vnderstande, With this sworde that I holde in hande, That with thy life thou shalt not thēs•• escape. So cruelly the vengeaunce shalbe take, Efte whan we mette euen vpon thy head. ¶Of which thyng whan Achylles toke hede Aduertynge all that he herde him sayne. Ryght as he wolde haue answered agayne, ¶Vorthy Troylus knyghtly entred in, And made them a sonder for to twynne, And through the manhode of his companye, Of worthy knyghtes that he tho dyd guye, And hyghe prowesse of his owne might, He hath the grekes put agayne to flyght. And slayne of them that day out of dread, Syxe hundred knyghtes sothly as I reade. For losse of whyche the grekes faste gan flee. To their tentes as of necessytee. Tyll Menelay dyd his busy cure, To make them the fyelde agayne recure. Through whose manhode y^t day out of doute And worthy knightes that weren him about, The fyelde of grekes recured was anone. ¶But tho fro Troye came kyng Odemon. And in all hast possyble that he may, He came enbushed vpon Menelay, And hym vnhorseth in the selfe place. And suche a wounde gaue hym in the face. That from the death he wende not escape. And doubtles anone he had hym take, With helpe of Troylus and lad vnto y^e towne But of grekes suche a prese came downe, To rescue hym in this great nede, ¶That Odemon myght tho no further lede, Kyng Menelay towarde the cyte. Whan Dyomede came with his meyne. And many worthy rydynge hym aboute, When Troylus mette amonges al the route, All sodeynly of hap or aduenture, Hath him vnhorseth as it was his eure, And after that anone he hent his stede, And bad a squyer that he shulde it lede, Vnto Cryseyde onely for his sake, Besechynge her that she wolde it take, As for a gyfte of her owne man. Syth he that day for her loue it wan. Amyd the fyelde through his great myght. Of hym that was whylom her owne knight. And he in haste on his waye it went, And therof made vnto her present. ¶Prayinge her in full humble wyse, This lyttell gyfte that she not despyse. But it receyue for a remembraunce, And with all this that it be pleasaunce, Of very pitye and of womanhede, On her seruaunt called Dyomede, To remembre that was become her knyght. And she anone with harte glad and lyght, Full womanly bad hym repayre agayne, Vnto his lord and playnly to hym sayne, That she ne myght of very kyndnesse, Of womanhead nor of gentylnesse, Refusen hym platly from her grace, That was to her there in straunge place, So kynde founde and so comfortable. In euery thynge and seruysable. That it may not lykely out of mynde, To thynke on hym that was so true & kinde. ¶With which answere the messager is gone, Vnto his lorde and tolde it hym anone, Worde by worde lyke as she hath sayde, And he therof was full well apayde. That hym thought playnely in his herte, He was recured of his paynes smerte. And forth he had hym in armes as a knyght, ¶But that day duryng the stronge fyght,

They of Troye so manly haue them borne, That grekes myght not stande them aforne, For to their tentes they haue thē chased down That ne had be kyng Agamenowne, Grekes had be driuen clene out of the fyelde. The whiche thyng anon as he behelde, He came vpon with many worthy man, And tho of new the slaught agayne began. On euery halfe vpon the large playne. That grekes haue Troyans so be laine, That efte agayne they haue the fyelde ywon. So that Troyans canstrayned tho begon, To lese their lande tyll Pollydamas, Whiche with his knyghtes there besyde was, Gan fall vpon endlonge on the grene, Them of Troye full manly to sustene. And the grekes he gan so to enchace, Whan he came in that they loste their place, And to the stronde euen vpon the see, Thrugh his knyghthod he made thē for to fle Of their lyfe that they were in dread. The whiche mischiefe whan that Diomede, Behelde and sawe how Pollydamas, Mortally pursued on the chase, On horsebacke both and in the fyelde yfere, With cruell herte hent anone a spere, And spryngyng out rode to hym full ryght, And he agayne tacquyte him lyke a knyght, As he that lyste on no partye fayne, Of his stede helde agayne the reyne, ¶And raught a spere & threwe it in the rest, And Dyomede he smote so on the breste, That mortally lyke as it is founde, He hym vnhorseth with a greuous wounde. And ryght anone with a knightly herte, Pollydamas all attones sterte, Vnto the horse of this Dyomede, And by the reyne proudely gan it lede, ¶Vnto Troylus where he on foote stode. All forbathed in the grekes bloude, On euery halfe whiche that he shadde, Amonges them so knightly he him had. That they ne myght endure nor sustene, His sharpe sworde grounde was so kene. ¶And delyuer maugre all his foen, Into the sadell vp he sterte anone, Of very force armed as he was, And vnwarely by aduenture or case, With sharpe swerdes for the nones whette, As Achylles and he together mette, Worthy Troylus of rancour and of pryde, Achylles smote that he fell a syde, Downe of his horse lowe to the grounde. And notw^tstanding his grene mortal woūde, He rose agayne and fast gan hym spede, If that he myght recure agayne his stede. But all for nought it wolde not auayle. For sodaynly with a freshe battayle, They of Troye as made is mencyon, In compasewyse beset hym enuyron. Eueryche of them armed bright and clene, And Hector tho in his furious tene, ¶As Dares telleth all the maner howe, The same daye a thousande knyghtes slowe. Whiche them withstode onely in diffence, For Achylles to maken resystence. That tyme of death standyng in ieopardye. That certaynly but yf that bokes lye, By lyklyhode he myght not tho escape, In that mischyefe to be dead or take, Hector on hym was so furyous. ¶But as I read kyng Thelamonyus, Rescued hym in this great nede. And caused hym there to recure his stede. Notwithstandyng all that it disdayne. For he the duke and lorde of Athene, Was in case of herte and hole entent, To helpe Achylles wonder dylygent. That with hym ladde many noble knyght, ¶But for bycause that it drewe to nyght, As the storye maketh rehersayle, They made an ende as of that battayle. And they of Troye entred be the towne, And after that as made is menciowne, By and by hauyng no delayes, Mortally they foughten thirtye dayes. Without lette or interrupcyon. On outher parte to great destruction. But aldermost nathles their great pryde, They lost most on the grekes syde. ¶Saue Pryamus lost in specyall, Syxe of his sonnes called naturall. For whom he made great dole and heuinesse. And as the storye lyketh to expresse, This mene whyle Hector in certayne, In his face wounded was agayne, And thus they haue in this cruell rage, On euery parte receyued great domage,

Tyll Pryam hath from Troye sent downe, For a trewes vnto Agamenowne. For six monthes if he assente wolde. And therupon he hath a counsayle holde With his lordes what were beste to do. And they echone accorded be therto, And graunte his axynge conclusyon. ¶And all this whyle within Ylyon, Durynge the peas on outher parte assured, Of his woundes fully to be cured ¶Lay worthi Hector protector of the towne. But of this ryche royall chefe doungeowne, That Ilyon in Troye bare the name, Whiche of buildyng had suche a fame, If that I shuld commende it vp and downe, As Dares doth in his discrypciowne, I wante cunnynge my termes to aplye, For in his boke as he doth specifye. In all this worlde was there newe so ryche, Of hyghe deuyse nor of buildyng lyche. The whiche stode the more to delyte, As he there sayth on twelue stones whyte, Of Alabastre shortly to conclude, And twenty pase was the latytude, That grounde ypaued thrughout w^t crystall, And vp an hyght performed euery wall, Of all stones that any man can fynde, Of Dyamountes and of saphyres Inde. The royall rubye so oryent and lyght, That the derkenesse of the dymme nyght, Enchaced was with the beames shene. And euer amonge were emeraudes grene. With stones all that any maner man, In this worlde deuyse or recken can. That were of pryse, value, or richesse, Ther were wrought of large & gret roūdnes As sayth Dares, and Iuory the pyllers, And thervpon set at the corners, Of pured golde all aboue on hyght, There were ymages wonder huge of weight. With many perle and many ryche stone, And euery piller in the halle had one. Of massyfe golde burned clere and bryght, And wonderfull to any mans syght, For of this worke the merueylous fasshyon, Was more lyke by estymacyon, A thynge ymade and founded by fayrye, Than any worke wrought by fantasye, Through wytte of man as by lykelynesse. For in his bokes Dares doth wytnesse, That it was lyke to recken syght and all, In apparaunce a thynge celestyall. Seeth in this boke ye get no more of me. For but in wrytynge I myght neuer it se. Albe that it all other dyd excelle, No more therof I thinke nowe to telle. But to retourne agayne to Pryamus. Whiche all this whyle was inly curyous, With all his myght and his busy cure, To ordeyne for the sepulture, Of his sonnes that afore were dead. ¶And all that tyme sycke laye Dyomede, With loues stripe wounded to the herte. As he that felte inwardly the smerte, Of woful syghes whiche in his brest abreide. Full ofte adaye for loue of her Creseyde. For he was shake with a feuer newe, That caused hym to be full pale of hewe. And to wexen megre poore and lene, For pyteously he gan hym to abstene, For meate and drynke and from all solace, As it was sene in his deadly face. And ofte a daye to her he wolde complayne, Of his dissease and of his mortall payne, Prayinge of grace that she wolde do se, Vpon his woo for to haue pytye. And of mercy for to taken hede, Of her seruaunt onely of womenhead. Or playnely elles there is no more to seye, For her sake he sayde that he wolde deye. ¶But cunnyngly and in full sleyghty wyse, To kepe hym lowe vnder her seruyce, With delayes she helde hym forth on hande▪ And caused hym as in a were to stande. Full vnsure betwene hope and dispayre. And whan that grace shuld haue had repaire To put hym out of all this heuynesse, Daunger of newe brought hym in distresse. And with disdayne to encrease his payne, Of double were she brought him in a trayne. As women can holde a man full narowe, Whan he is hurte with Cupydes arowe. To sette on them with many fell assayes, Day by day to put hym in delayes. To stande vnsure betwyxe hope and dread. Ryght as Creseyde lefte this Dyomede. Of entent to sette hym more a fyre, As this women kyndly aye desyre.

Whan they a man haue brought in to a traūce Vneuenly to hange hym in balaunce, Of hope and dread to lynke hym in a chayne, And of the fyne vnsure of bothe twayne. To dryue hym forth yeres them to serue, And do no force where he lyue or sterue, This is the fyne of loues fyry rage. And for she wolde haue hym in seruage, She locked hym vnder suche a keye, That he wote not where to lyue or deye. Wherof in doubte thus I lette hym dwell. And forth I wyll of the story tell. And to my matter eke resorte agayne, And as myne auctour recordeth in certayne, After the trewse were wered out and gone, Twelue dayes suyng all in one, The grekes haue faught w^t thē of the towne. To great damage and confusyowne, Of outher partye and aduersyte. And in this whyle a great mortalyte, Both of sworde and of pestylence, Amonge grekes by fatall influence, Of noyous hete and of corrupte eyre, Engendred was that tho in great dispayre, Of theyr lyfe in the fyelde they leye, For day by day sodaynly they deye. Wherby theyr nombre fast gan dyscrece, And whan they sawe that it ne wolde sece, By theyr aduyse the kyng Agamenowne, For a trewse sent vnto the towne. For thirty dayes. and Priamus the kinge, Without abode graunted his axynge.

¶How Andromecha was by a dreame for∣warned of the death of her husbande Hector, if he the day folowing entred the fielde, wher of she admonyshed him, and he therto hauing no respect, was the next day slain of Achilles. Capitulo .xxvii.

VVhan the moreyne and the wofull rage, Of pestylence began for to aswage. And the trewse were wered out and gone, The grekes caste to meten with their foen, Vpon a day in plates armed clene. Whan Phebus rose with his beames shene, Full pleasauntly and gan to shede his lyghte. ¶But as I fynde tofore the selfe nyght, Andromecha the faythfull trewe wyfe, Of worthy Hector hym louyng as her lyfe, By whom he had gette chyldren two, Wonder semely and inly fayre also, ¶And Lamedowne called was the tone, So yonge the tother that it ne myght gone. ¶And Astyonax I read that he hyght, Fetured well and passynge fayre of syghte, And as Guydo lysteth to endyte, Of his moder at the pappes whyte, For very yonge that tyme was suckynge. And with his arme his brestes embrasyng. And she that nyght as made is mencyon, Had in her slepe a wonder vysyon, I note in sothe what I may it neuene, Outher a dreame or veryly a sweuene, Or fro aboue a reuelacyon, As whylom had the kyng Scypyon, Or a shewyng outher an Oracle, Or of goddes a warnyng by myracle, For in sothnesse slepynge as she laye, Her thought playnly if the nexte daye, ¶Hector went his fomen for to assayle, As he was wonte armed in battayle, That he ne shulde escape vtterly, In fates hondes to falle fynally. And ouermore Attropos shall fyne, For euermore his lyues threde to twyne. And shewe the force of her fell myght, When the Parodye of this worthy knyght, A proche shall without wordes mo, Into the fyelde playnly if he go. Of which astoned strete and short of breth, Where as she laye abrayde vpon the death, And with a syghe stynte for to slepe, And pyteously brast out for to wepe, For the constraynte of her herty sorowe. And specyally on the wofull morowe, When that she sawe this stocke of worthinesse As he was wonte manfully hym dresse, To arme hym in stele borned bryght. This troian wall Hector this worthy knight. She can no more but at his fete fell downe, Lowly declaryng her a vysyowne, With quakyng herte of very womanhead. Wherof god wote he toke full lyttle hede. But therof had hygh indignacion. Platly affyrmynge that no discrecion, Was to trusten in suche fantasyes. In dreames shewed gladly meinte with lyes.

Full of Iapes and of illusyons, Of whiche playnely the conclusyons, Be not elles but folkes to delude. Albe it so that these people rude, Therin some whyle haue affection, To iudge and deame in their oppynion, Dyuersly what they may pretende. And ofte falle and happen as they wende, And foloweth lyke in conclusyon. For dread of whiche the lamentacion, Encrease gan of this Andromecha. And in her swone fyrst she cryed ha. Sayinge alas myne owne lorde so dere, Your trewe wyfe alas why nyll ye here. Whyche of so faythfull hoole affection, Desyreth aye your saluacyon. And vp she rose deadly of vysage, And lyke a woman caught with sodayne rage To kynge Pryam and Hecuba the quene, In haste she went her selfe to be mene. And of her wyfely herte trewe as stele, Ceryously declared euery deale, Her pyteous dreame which through myracle, To her onely by deuyne oracle, Yshewed was through goddes purueyaunce. And tolde them eke the fynall ordynaunce. Of fortunes false dispocisyon. Fully purueyed to destruction, Of her lorde without more delaye. Into the fyelde yf he go that daye. ¶Wherfore she prayeth with a deadly hewe, Vnto the the kynge of mercy for to rewe, Vpon her wo to haue compassyon. For to ordeyne by hyghe discrecion, Of his lordshyp and of soueraynte, That her lorde may not destroyed be. Of reckeleshead or wylfulnesse. And with that worde of very kyndnesse, In whom was aye so moche loue founde, Tofore the quene in sowne fell to grounde. And sayde alas with a deadly chere, Helpe in this case myne owne mother dere, Of womanhead and routh do me grace. That my lorde into the fyelde ne pace. And do your deuer of motherly pytee, Benyngnely and goodly for to se, To his knyghthode and his hygh prowesse, For to restrayne his renowmed noblesse. This ylke day to handle spere or shelde, Nor that he go armed into fylde. ¶And both twayne assent for the beste, And condescende vnto her requeste, Fynally accordynge into one. That whē the wardes were redy euerychone ¶On yssuynge out and Troylus fyrst of all▪ And Parys next on grekes for to fall, ¶And after hym the troyan Eneas, Kinge Sarpedan and Pollydamas, Kyng Eroys and kyng Epystrophus, And eke the kyng ycalled Forcyus, In plate and mayle eueryche armed clene, And alderlast came kyng Phylomene, Withall the kynges and lordes of renowne, That in deffence come of the towne, With the grekes knyghtly to debate. ¶And Pryamus sothly to the gate, Conueyed them at theyr out goynge, And set their wardes this noble worthy king. Full prudently through his sapyence, And after gaue them congee and lycence, Vpon grekes for to proue their myght. Agaynst whom full redy for to fyght, Their fomen were with royall apparayle. Amyd the fyelde abydyng the battayle. ¶But Pryamus in the meane whyle, Lyke as Guydo remembreth in his style. For thylke fyne that ye haue herde me sayne, To whothy Hector repayred is agayne, Hym contermaundyng that he ne shuld gone, Thilke day to fyght agayne their foen. For whyche thynge of hygh despyte he brent, Whan that he sawe other lordes went, Out at the gate and he alone abode. For whiche he wexed furyous and wood, Hooly the cause arettynge to his wyfe, That was of cheietie so tender of his lyfe. Puttyng on her fully the occasyowne, Of his abydynge that day in the towne. In preiudyce of his worthynesse, And disencrease of his hygh prowesse, And leest through tongues to his hygh estate, Through false reporte it were derogate. He caste anone of a full knightly herte. For lyfe nor death it shulde hym not asterte, Within the fyelde that daye to be founde, Though it so were w^t many mortall wounde, He shulde on peces hewen be a sonder. Vpon the playne dismembred here & yonder.

So hole in manhod was his herte sette, That he anone without longer lette, Agayne to arme hym was full dyligent, Agayne the precept and commaundemente, Of his father and rode on his waye, For feare of whyche anone as she would deye His wife of newe crye gan and shoute. And with her papes also hangynge oute, Her lytell chylde in her armes twayne, Tofore her lorde gan to wepe and playne, Besechynge him of routhe and pyte, If so he would vnto her sorowe se, At the least for her wyfely trouthe, That he of manhode haue in herte routhe, Vpon his childe and vpon her also, Whych that she bare in her armes two, And not might him from criynge kepe, Whan he sawe his wofull mother wepe, And knelynge downe vnto him she sayde, In her sobbynge as she might abrayde, Mine owne lorde haue mercy now on me, And on this lytell chylde whych that ye se, So pyteously afore you wepe and crye, Haue mercy lorde on vs or that we dye, Haue mercy eke vpon this Cite, Myne owne lorde haue mercy or that we, By cruell death passe shall echone, For lacke of helpe alas when ye are gone. ¶This was the crye of Andromecha, With whom was eke her syster Cassandra, ¶Hecuba and fayre Pollycene, And Heleyne eke the lusty freshe quene, Which all atones fell him beforne, With heyr vntrussed and weping all to torne. And loude gan to crye in the place, Besechynge him of mercy and of grace. For thilke daye to abyde in the towne, And in his hert to haue compassyowne, On her complaynte and her wofull mone. Sith all the truste of the towne alone, In him abode and all the resystence,, Agaynst death he was their chiefe defēce, And in him onely was their affiaunce, Their suerte and their suffysaunce, In eche thinge that theim might greue. ¶And yet all this ne might his herte meue. For to abyde yet of goodlyheade, They him besought to their womanheade, He would encline his herded herte of stele, That they might a lytell droppe fele, Onely of pyte on their woo to rewe, That lykly was to more and renewe, Fynally to their destructiowne, For of the Cite and lykewyse the towne, His death in soth shulde fully be ruyne, But yet all this might not him enclyne, That he ne would out in conclusyon, As indurate and harted as a Lyon. He was alwaye continuinge in his rage Whose herte might as often nor aswage, Nother prayer nor lamantacion, Him to restrayne from his opinion. For euery peryll he layde hath asyde, And on his waye gan anone to ryde. Where through his wife none other bote can. But in her rage to the kinge she ran, So amased in her mortall wo, That she vnneth might speake him to. So diffaced and rewefull of her sight, That by her hewe knoweth her no wight, For loste she had bothe might and strengthe, And plat she fell to the grounde at length, Tofore the kynge that routhe was to sene. ¶Besechinge him of entente full clene, That he of grace consider wolde her wo, For but he helpe Hector was ago. And he seynge her faythfull womanhead, At her request raughte anone his stede, And pricked after onely for her sake, In so great haste that he hath ouertake. Worthy Hector within the Cite, And hent his reyne with great difficulte, And maugre him made him tourne agayne. In suche wise he durst it not with sayne, Albe that he was full lothe therto. So that by prayer and by force also, From his stede he made him to alyghte. The areste of whom eschewe he ne myght. For he ne would agayne his father striue, Albe that he felte his herte ryue, Of melancolye and of hertye yre. And of disdayne newe set a fyre, So inwardly stered was his blode. That lyke a Tygre or a Lyon wood, That were depriued newly of her praye. Right so he fared all that ylke daye. Or lyke a bore that his tuskes whette, Whyle the Grekes and they of Troye mette,

Furyously walkynge vp and downe, And in diffence sothly of the towne, Troylus fyrste on his baye stede, Of aduenture mette with Diomede. And eche at other surquedous of pryde, With sharpe speres gan togyther ryde, And Guydo sayth without any dreade, One or bothe had anone be deade, Ne had Menelay knightly go betwene. And after that in a furyous tene, He smette his horse in full knyghtly wyse, ¶And Mereon the mighty kinge of Fryse, Menelaus marked hath full well, And wyth his swerde ful sharp groūd of stele, Vnhorsed him and threwe hym on the grene. For he the stroke might not tho sustene, This Menelay was on him so wood. That it was lykly euen there he stode, With his lyfe he shoulde not thense eskape. For the Grekes ful hastely theim shape, This Meryon as ye haue herde me sayne, For to be sette rounde vpon the playne, And to cesse him by the auentayle, On euery parte and cruelly to assayle, All destytute in this wofull case, ¶But him to helpe came Pollydamas, With his knightes and gan to nighe nere, When he him sawe taken prysonere. And maugre all that there vpon him sette, From theyr handes Pollydamas him fette, At whose reskues there was so great a strife, That many one therfore loste his lyfe. For Grekes rather then he shoulde escape, From their handes in that hasty rape, Caste theym playnly that he shoulde be dead. Fully in purpose to haue hadde his head. He stode of mischyefe in so great disioynt, But him to selpe euen vpon the poynt, ¶Came Troylus in most knightly of arraye And of his manhod made suche affraye, Amōges them in reskuse of this kinge, That maugre theim at his in cominge, Deliuered was this mighty kinge of Fryse. From cruell death as ye haue herde deuyse. But thervpon came Thelamonyus. Proude in armes and euer surquidous, With thre thousande full worthy euerychone, And he vnhorseth Pollydamas anone. Among his knight{is} & proudly bare hī downe. ¶But Troilus hath thrugh his hie renowne Myd of his foen get him his horse agayne, But they of Troye so sore were belayne, On euery halfe throughe the grekes pryde, That they ne might afore theim tho abyde,, For newe and newe the hardy Achilles, Assayled theim with his Myrmydones. That they compelled of necessyte. In mischyefe were made for to flee, Home to the walles and gates of the towne, To great domage and confusyowne. Of theyr partye that abacke so gone. ¶The whych thynge when Margaryton, Behelde and sawe howe the game gothe, In his herte he gan to wexen wrothe. And passyngly for to haue disdayne, As the storye recordeth in certayne, That he was bothe hardy and famous. And sonne also to kinge Priamus. A noble knight and of great worthinesse, And when he sawe the mischyef and distresse, Of theim of Troye add how they gan fle, He caste anone auenged for to be, Vpon Achilles for all his great might. And ran to him full lyke a manly knight, On horse backe for the townes sake, And him enforseth Achilles for to take, Amyd the felde amonge his knightes all. ¶But Achilles alas it should befall, That daye him slewe by cruell aduenture. Where through Troians mightē not endure, The felde to holde but homeward gan thē hie And mortally they maken noyse and crye, First for the death of Margaryton, ¶And for the pursuyte that king Thelamō. Made on the chase through hys crueltye. Home to the gates of Troye the Cite, That slewe and killed alwaye as he rode, Albe that Parys manly him withstode, With his brethrene that in baste were borne, But for al that their ground they haue lorne, Lefte and forsake vtterly the felde. And home they wēt and brought on a shelde, The dead corps of Margaryton. And after that theyr gates shette anone, The whych mischiefe as Hector gan beholde, Of very yre his herte gan wexe colde, And sayd platly without more delaye, He would auenge his death the same daye.

And made in haste his stede to be fet, And vp he sterte and on his basenet, Vnwyste the kinge or who be lefe or lothe, There was no gayne forthe anone he gothe, Tyll he was passed the gates of the towne, More furyous then Tygre or Lyowne. At whose coming as thick as swarme of been. Tofore his sworde Grekes gan to fleen, They thought it was tyme to withdrawe. And fyrst I finde how that he hath slawe, Two worthy Dukes as he wyth theim met. That busy were his waye for to let, The one ycalled was Eurypalus, ¶And the other hyght Halcydius, And so Troians the felde agayne haue won, And of newe manfully begon, Grekes to sewe and folowe on the trase, And yet at myschiefe Dan Pollydamas, The same tyme was of Grekes take, But Hector hath so borne him for his sake, Where as that he forest was belayne. And thrugh his knighthod reskued hī agayne And put the Grekes in so great distresse, Through his manhode and his worthinesse, That where so euer thylke daye he rode, His sharpe swerde he bathed in their bloud, He was so cruell and so merciles. ¶But then a knight called Leothydes, Shope him anone with Hector for to mete, While he was most yrous in his hete, And set on him full presumptuously, But Hector tho deuoyde of all mercy, Anone him slewe and threwe him in the felde The whych thinge when Achilles behelde, The great slaughter and the woundes wide, That Hector made vpon euery syde, He gan anone compasse in his herte, And vp and downe caste and aduerte, How the grekes neuer maye be sure, Agayne their foen to fyght nor endure, Nor kepe a felde with theim for to stryue, All the whyle that Hector were alyue. Wherfore he caste and shope many weye, By what engyne Hector might deye. At auauntage if he might him finde, ¶And therto eke Pollicenes of Inde, A worthy Duke was also of assent, Onely for he of herte and hole entente, In hope stode his syster for to wyue, For loue of whom he felte his herte ryue. And in her grace better for to stande, He caste fully for to take on hande, This high emprise as I haue you tolde, But while that he was on him most bolde, Hector him slew there was none other gayne The whych anone as Achilles hath seyne, For yre he wexed in his herte as wood, As bore or Tygre in theyr cruell moode, Vpon Hector auenged for to be. And furyously he gan on him to fle. ¶But Hector caught a quarel sharp ygroūd And threwe at him & gaue him such a wound, Throughout the thighe vpon other syde, That in the felde he might not abyde. But him withdrewe and anone is wente, With all his men home vnto his tente, And made anone a surgeyn for to binde, His mortall wounde and after as I fynde, Whan he was staunche & ceaseth for to blede, In all haste agayne he toke his stede, And leest he were of that wounde deade, Afterwarde as it was great dreade, He thought fyrst auenged for to be, Vpon Hector if he might him se. Of happe or sorte yf it would fall, For him thought to his paynes all, It were to hym the beste remedye, Of his hande if he might dye, For of his lyfe he routhe not a mite, Be so that he Hector might acquyte, Deathe for deathe in conclusyon, For that was holy his entencion, Of his desyre fully suffysaunce, By death vnwarely to gyue him mischaunce. ¶But all this time Hector vp and downe, As he was wonte playeth the Lyon, Amonges Grekes in many sondry place, And with his swerde gan theim so enchase. That as the death where they might hī seen. They fledde afore him like a swarme of been. For none so hardy was him to wythsette. And in this while a grekishe kinge he mette, Were it of hap or of aduenture, The whiche in sothe on his cote armure, Embrouded had full many ryche stone, That gaue a lyght when the sonne▪ shone, Full bryght and cleare that ioye was to sene, For Perles white and Emerawdes grene,

Full many one were therin sette. And on the cercle of his basenette, And rounde enuyron of his auentayle, In veluet fret all aboue the mayle, Saphyres ynde and other stones red. Of whose arraye when Hector taketh hede, Towardes him fast gan him drawe. And fyrst I fynde how he hath hym slawe, And after that by force of his manheade, He hente him vp afore him on his stede, And fast gan wyth him for to ryde, From the wardes a lytell out of syde, At good leyser playnly if he maye, To spoyle him of his ryche arraye, Full glad and lyght of his newe empryse. But out alas of false couetise, Whose gredy fret the which is great pytee, In hertes may not lightly staunshed be. The Etike draweth by so great distresse, That it defaceth the high worthynesse, Full ofte sythe of these conqueroures. And of theyr fame rente away the floures. Desyre of hauynge in a gredy thuoght, To hygh noblesse sothly longeth nought. Nor suche pylfre spoylynge nor robberye, Appartayne not to worthy chyualrye. For couetyse and knighthod as I lere, In one chayne maye not be knet yfere. For kouthe it is that ofte suche rauyne, Hath cause be and roote of ruyne, Of many worthy who so lyst take hede, Lyke as ye maye nowe of Hector reade. That sodaynly was brought to his endynge, Onely for spoylynge of this ryche kinge, For of desyre to him that he hadde. On horse backe out whan he him ladde, Reklesly the storye maketh mynde, He caste his shelde at his backe behynde, To welde him selfe at more lyberte, And for to haue oportunyte, To spoyle him and for no wyght spare, So that hys brest disarmed was and bare. Except his plates there was no diffence, Agayne the stroke to maken resistence. Alas why was he tho so reckles, This floure of knighthod of māhode pereles When that his foo all that ylke daye, For him alone in awayte so laye, If in mischiefe of hate or of enuye, In the fielde he might him ought espye, This Achilles cruell and venymous, Of hertye moste melancolius, Whych couertly houing him beside, When that he sawe Hector disarmed ryde, He hente a spere sharpe grounde and kene, And of yre in his hatefull tene, All vnwarely or Hector might aduerte, ¶Alas the while he smote him to the herte, Throughout y^e brest that dead he fel adowne. Vnto the earthe this Troian champyowne, Through neclygence onely of his shelde, The death of whom when Odemon behelde, The worthy kinge might hym not refrayne, ¶But to Achilles rode with all his payne, And hit him so amyd of all the prese, Maugre the might of his Myrmydones, That for dead Guydo sayth certayne, Of that wounde fel grofeling on y^e playne. But his knightes on a shelde alofte, The ylayde him and caryed him full softe, Vnto his tente in all the haste he can, And there I leue this deadly wounded man, Full sore sycke tyll he maye releue. And after that when it drewe to eue, They of Troye with great reuerence, Did their laboure and theyr diligence, The dead corps to carye into towne, Of worthy Hector whē Titan went adowne And to the temple dolefully they wende. And of that daye this was the wofull ende. I can no more but thus the longe night. In heauinesse as it is skill and ryght, I will theim leue and agayne retourne, To my matter to helpe theym for to mourne.

¶The complaynte of Lydgate for the death of Hector. Ca. xxviii.

BVt nowe alas how shal I forth procede, In the storye that for wo and dreade, Fele my hande bothe tremble and eke quake, Oh worthy Hector onely for thy sake. Of thy deathe I am so lothe to wryte. Oh who shall now helpe me to endite, Or vnto whom shall I clepe or call, Certys to none amonge the muses all That by accorde singen euer in one, On Pernasus besyde Helycon.

So aungelyke in theyr hermonye, That tunge is none that may specifye, The great swetenesse of theyr goodly songe, For no discorde is founde theim amonge, In theyr minsyke they be entuned so. It sytte theim nought for to helpe in wo, Nor in maters y^t be with mourninge shente, As tragydyes all to tore and rente, In camplayninge pyteously in rage. In the Theatre with a dead vysage, To theim alas I clepe dare nor crye, My troubled penne of grace for to guye, Nother to Clyo nor to Callyope, ¶But to Alecto and to Thesyphone, And to Megera that euer doth complayne, As they that lyue aye in wo and payne. Eternally and in torment dwell, With Cerberus depe downe in hell. Whom I must praye to be gratious, To my matter which is so furyous, For to a wyght that is comlaplayninge, A drery feare is ryght well syttinge. And to a matter meynt with heuynesse. Accordeth well a cheare of drerynesse. To be allyed as by vnyte. ¶Wherfore helpe nowe thou wofull Nyobe, Some drery teare in all thy piteous payne, Into my penne dolefully to rayne. ¶And helpe also thou cruelly Yxione, And Belydes that dothe the bokette gone, And with thy stone helpe thou Secyphus, And in thy ryuer helpe eke Tantalus, That for hunger haste so huge pyne. This wofull playute helpe me for to fyne. Me to further do your busynesse, For now the stocke and roote of worthynesse, Of knighthod groūd of māhod soures & well, That tofore all bare away the bell, Of derrynge do this floure of high prowesse, And was exaumple also of gentilnesse, That neuer could do amisse or seye, ¶Alas Hector alas why shuldest thou deye. Oh cruell Parchas why toke ye no hede, So cruelly to twine his fatall threde, Ye were to hasty alas why were ye so, And namely when the threde ye brake a two Thou Attropos which thrugh thy gret enuye Oh Troye alas well mayst thou wepe & crye, And make a wofull lamentacion, Whych haste of newe to thy confusyon, Loste thy diffence and thy stronge wall. Thy berer vp thy suertie royall. By whom thy honour chiefely was begonne Alas alas for now thy bryght sonne, Eclipsed is now standest thou desolate, Of all comforte and disconsolate, Thy lyght is loste and thou in dercknesse, Yplounged arte for in sothefastnesse, Of all worthy thou haste the worthyest, This daye yloste and the knightlyest, That is or was or shall I the ensure Be euer borne whylse the worlde may dure. No wonder is though thou be wale sore, And daye by daye complayne for euermore. That was thy shelde bothe in ioye and wo, Whom thou were wonte for to loue so. So tenderly with all thy hole herte. That it maye not lyghtly the asterte, To haue him euer in thy remembraunce. Which was in sothe fully thy suffysaunce. ¶For as Guydo maketh mencion, There was no man dwellinge in the towne, That he ne hadde of very kindenesse, For loue of him as he lyste expresse, His childe more lefe to haue dyed in this case, Other his heyre so well beloued he was. If the goddes, fate, or destyne, Disposed had that it might haue be, Women also of euery maner age, Be for his deathe fall in suche a rage, Through the Cite aboute in euery strete, That with sobbinge and with salte tear{is} wete And heyre to rente for their deadly wo, Furyously they ronnen to and fro. So mortall was their aduersyte. That to beholde alas it was pyte. Yonge maydes and lykewyse matrones olde, Sobbe and syghe and their fystes folde. And loude crye and sayde fynally, Alas nowe shall our fathers cruelly, In our syght be slayne day by day. Alas the while and no man shal say nay. Farewell our helpe nowe Hector is ygone. That in the surenesse of vs euerychone, Was wonte to reste now is he dead alas. ¶Of whom the body whan it caryed was, Into presence of Pryamus the kynge, Anone he loste the offyce of speakynge.

And gan him selfe in salte teares droune, And pyteously therwith fell in swone, Vpon the corps cold as any stone, Inly desyrous for to deye anone, Without tariyng on him as he laye, ¶But that he was by force rente awaye. His brethren eke when they token hede, Tryste and pale for sorowe well nyghe dead. That haue them selfe with rage al to torne, That neuer was I trowe sene aforne, Of brethren yet suche an other care. For eche of theim with him selfe gan fare, As there they would haue dyed on the corse, For of theyr life platly they gaue no forse. But at the grounde with many sorowes sore, Lyke wilde bulles they gan crye and rore, That routhe was theyr deadly wo to sene. An herte of stele myght it not sustene. ¶What shall I saye of Hecuba the quene, Or of his syster yonge Pollycene, Or Cassandra the prudent and the wyse. Or of his wyfe the sorowe to deuyse. Whiche rent them selfe in torment and in wo. As fynally they wolde them selfe for do, By cruell deth so they wepe and wayle. That yf I shulde maken rehersayle, To wryte their sorowes & their complaynges Their pyteous sobbyng sorowes & wepinges The wofull cryes and pyteous sownes, Their drery plaintes and lamentaciownes, And all their wo for to specyfye, A large volume it wolde occupye, If eche thynge I shulde in order tell. I trowe it were to longe for to dwell. For any man and tedyous to here, For many day after as I lere. The women wepte afore the corps lyinge. Them selfe defacyng in their complaynynge, That wonder was how they myghte endure. But that they haue it sothly of nature, And of kynde for to wepe and playne, To syghe sore and into teares rayne, Tyll the tempest of their wofull rage, May by processe lyt and lyt aswage. And thus I lette them sygh and sorowe make This cely women that in their clothes blake, shroude their faces & wimpled more in vaine, While to my matter I retourne againe. To tell playnely how kyng Pryamus, In herte was inly desyrous. To caste awaye in his entencion, The corps to kepe from corrupcyon, Whiche naturally but men taken hede, Corrupte must ryght of very nede. For of kyndly dispocysyon, There may be made none opposycion, Aboue the grounde if the body lye, That by all reason it must putryfye. But yf crafte be aboue nature. Vncurrupte it may not there endure. ¶Wherfore the kyng shope hym to ordeyne, To preserue it hole fro thynges twayne. From odoure and abhomynacion. And therwith eke by craftye operacyon, That in it slyght be not founde horrible, But that it be lyefly and visyble, To the eye as by apparaunce. Lyke as it were quycke in existence. What it coste the kyng wyll spare nought. But made anone afore hym to be brought, The craftyest maysters of the towne, Suche as moste had of discrecyowne. To perfourme his axynge curyously. And they obeye his byddyng faythfully, With all theyr wyll and entyer dylygence. In the temple most of reuerence, Of all the towne whylom dedicate, And of full yore also consecrate. To Appollo of olde foundaciowne, Besyde a gate standyng of the towne, ¶Called Tymbrya in their Troyan tongue. As in storye is both red and songe. And in this phane that I speake of here, They made fyrste by the hyghe aultere, By great deuyse a lyttell oratorye, Perpetually to be in memory. Where as was sette a ryche receptacle. Made in maner of a tabernacle. Egall of syght for a large ymage, That reysed was on a ryche stage, That was borne at eche of his corners, Of pured golde vpon foure pyllers. And on eueryche full craftely ydyght, An aungell stode of golde borne bryght. Ceryously the worke to sustene, With craftye archys reysed wonder clene, Enbowed ouer all the worke to cure, So merueylous was the celature.

That all the rofe and closure enuyrowne, Was of fyne golde plated vp and downe. With knottes graue wonder curyous, Fret full of stones ryche and precious, Of euery kynde that man can deuyse. So royally and in so thryfty wyse, That the derckenesse of the blacke nyght, With the beames of the clere lyght, Enchaced was where they dyden shene. And fro the grounde vpryght as a lyne, There were degrees men by to ascende, Made so well that no man coulde amende. The worckmanshyp & they were euerychone, Performed vp all of crystall stone. Attaynyng vp from the table base, Where the standynge and the restynge was, Of this ryche crafty tabernacle, Hauynge aboue vpon eche penecle, A ryche rubye. and reysed hye on hyght. Stode an ymage huge and large of weyghte, Of massye golde hauyng the lykenesse, Of worthy Hector that gan his face dresse, Towarde grekes where he tho dyd stonde, Aye thretyng them with his sworde in honde. And amiddes all this great rychesse, They haue yset by good auisenesse, The dead corps of this worthy knight, To syght of man standinge vp as ryghte, By subtyll crafte as it were lyuynge, Of face and cheare and of quicke lokinge, And of coloure southly and of hewe, Beynge as freshe as any rose newe, And lyke in all as by supposayle, As he liued in his apparayle. ¶For on his stede lyke as it is tolde, Thrugh small pip{is} wrought & made of golde That by measure were enbowed downe, To an entre made in his crowne, By great aduyse and subtilte, To eche partye and extremyte, Of his body craftely porrecte, Through nerfe and synewe driuen & directe. By secrete pores craftely to extende, Wherby the lycour might downe descende. To kepe him hole fro corrupcion, Withouten any transmutacion, Of hyde and hewe in any parte to tourne. And at his head of golde was an vrne, And that was fylde with bawme naturall. That ran through pipes artyfyciall, Through necke and head into many place, Penetrable by vaynes of the face. That thrugh vertue and force of this licoure, He was conserued liuely of coloure, Freshe of hewe quicke and nothynge pale, So mightely the bawme did auale. Comparisoned as it were semblable, To a soule that were vegetable, The whych without sensybelyte, Ministreth life in herbe, floure, and tre. ¶And semblably into euery vayne, Of the corps the vertue did attayne, By breste and arme spredinge enuyron. For the moysture by discencion To hande and foote southly as I reade, Through bone & ioynt gan his vertue shede, And distillinge mightely is flete. And at his fete full of gummes swete, A viall stode tempred with bawne ymeynt That by processe may not waxe feynt, But daye by daye encrease and amende. Of which the vapoure vpwarde gan ascend, Causinge the ayre enuyron be delyse, To resemble a very paradyse, For the sauour more holsome was and soote, Than the odour of gumme spice or roote, And of pure golde were foure laumpes light. Tofore the corps brenninge daye and nighte, With oyle in sothe if it be credyble, That was by crafte made in extinguible, For it ne might mine auctour sayth certayne, Nother be queint with tēpest winde or rayne. Nor by processe wasten of no yeares. Whiche in the ayre be bryght bourned wires, Full craftely reysed were a lofte, Of whose swetenes men reioyced ofte, In theyr courage it lyked theim full well, And whē this worke was complete eueridell, Rounde enuyrowne ful ryche and freshe to se ¶They made a parclose all of Eban tre That so longe laste maye and dure. The which tree onely of nature, When it is cutte smelleth wonder swete, And maye not waste nor brenne with no hete Though it be layde amonge the coles red, Midde the flawme of many fiery glede, It not consumeth though men assaye ful ofte And in water it houeth not alofte,

But kyndely thense to the grounde it goth, To swymme on heyght in soth it is to loth, And lyke also as teacheth Plynyus, This tree whylom was passyngly famous, Of so hyghe pryse and reputacion, That in the large myghty regyon, And worthy lande of Ethyope and Inde, Of yore agon the folkes as I fynde, Had this tree in so great honour, That they gaue trybute to the Emperour, ¶As is remembred of antiquite, Of golde and yuor and of this ryche tree. With these gyftes famous and royall, To quyte theyr dette to hym in specyall. ¶And whan Pryam in full thryfty wyse, Performed hath as ye haue herde deuyse, This ryche worke noble and excellent, Of herty loue in all his beste entent, Ordayned eke as Guydo can you tell, A certayne nombre of prestes for to dwell, ¶In the temple in their deuocions, Contynually with deuoute orysons, ¶For the soule of Hector for to preye. That the goddes his spyryte lyste conuey, Eternally with them to dwell yfeare. In ioye and blysse aboue the sterres clere. ¶To whiche prestes y^e kyng gaue mansyons, There to abyde and possessyons, The whiche he hath to them mortysed, Perpetually as he haue herde deuysed. And whyles that they knele praye and wake, I caste fully me an ende to make, Fynally of this my thirde boke, On my rude maner as I vndertoke. And whyles they of Troye wepe and morne, Vnto grekes I wyll agayne retourne, And with dulle style on the story trace, Onely borne vp with supporte of your grace.

Thus endeth the thirde boke.