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.

¶How the grekes deposyng Agamenon, ordayned Pallamydes the general of their armye. Cap. xxix.

HEctor thus deade as ye haue herde said, & Achylles in his tent ylayde, With his woundes mortall fresshe and grene, Vpon a morning when y^e son shene, Enchaced had away the derke nyght, ¶Agamenon the wyse worthy knyght, In his workes passyngly prudent, Hath in all haste for his lordes sent, And when they were assembled euerychone, Within his tente to them he sayde anone. ¶Syrs quod he and lordes that be here, Kynge, Prynces, and Dukes eke yfere, If ye aduerte by clere inspection, Ye ought echeone with hygh deuocyon. Hooly of herte our goddes for to herye. And inwardely for to be ryght merye, If ye consydre and wysely do take hede, ¶How that our enemye Hector is now dead, That whylom was berer vp of Troye. Their full truste their honour and their ioye. Their hoole deffence and their protection, And vnto vs death and confusyon. Vnlykely euer to haue had victorye, Whyles with lyfe he floured in his glorye. Againe whose sworde we mighten not auaile For slewe he not at our aryuayle? If ye remembre on the fyrste day, ¶The noble kyng called Protheselay? And after nexte if I shall not fayne, He Patroclus parted euen on twayne, In fyelde amonges vs euerychone, Slewe he not eke the worthy kynge Menon, Archylogus and also Prothenor, And eke the kyng that hyghte Alphynor, Phyllys also and kyng Epystrophus? ¶And to the ende he brought zantypus, And Meryon the myghty stronge kyng, In his waye as he came rydynge, He slayne hath and other kynges two, ¶Cedyus and Doryus also, Polyrenes and stronge Polybete, Letabonis and the kynge Phylete, The manly knyght the kynge Isydyus, ¶And eke the kynge called Humerus? For in his Ire and his cruell tene, Of worthy kynges he slayne hath eyghtene, Whiche hyther came out of grekes lande, By the power of his myghty hande. ¶Nowe laude and honour to the goddes all Whiche caused haue that it is be fall. That he is dead to our encrease of ioye. And to discrese of our foen in Troye. As they shall fynde in experyence. And laude also prese and reuerence, Be to fortune that vs hath holpe wele. With her tournyng of her double whele. To hyghe comforte and consolacyowne, Of vs echone syttynge enuyrowne. That stonde nowe in parfyt sykernesse, Through deth of him y^t dyd vs so oppresse. And what may they waite now in the towne But after deth and destructiowne, And hastely for to ende in wo, Now that their truste Hector is a go. Without whom they may not longe endure, Wherfore we may fully vs assure, Our purpose hole that we shall acheue. And fynally daunte them so and greue, That vnto them it shalbe importable, Of one assent if we stande stable. For their partye tourneth on the wrake, And their hope is fully put a bake. And dispeired in nonsecurytye, For vtterly both they and their Citye, Shall more & more in weer of death depende, And we in soth shall day by day amende, With helpe of god both on sea and lande. For now victorye is redy to our hande. Deuoyde platly of ambyguyte, And excluded at eye as ye may se, Both of wantrust and of foreyne dread, But I counsayle or that we procede, Any ferther vpon our foen to ryde, Prudently a whyle to abyde, And kepe vs close for to passe our boundes,

¶Tyll Achylles be heled of his woundes. And then echone by myghtye vyolence, Shal thē oppresse when they haue no diffence As I haue sayde through helpe of Achylles. And let vs nowe sende for a peace, For two monthes to kyng Pryamus, If it so be he lyste to graunt it vs. As it is lyke playnely that he shall. And they there whyle with flawme funerall, Consume may the deade bodyes pale, That lye abrode on euery hyll and vale. Whiche by reporte of them that haue repeyre, From day to day infecten so the eyre, Throughout the fielde engendryng pestilence Of stynke there is so great a vyolence. ¶And we there whyle may in ease and reste, Our woundes cure me semeth for the beste. ¶And they assent therto euerychone, And vnto Troye the messageres are gone, And haue the trewse graunted of the kynge. And be repeyred without more taryinge. And thereof made full relacyon, To the grekes afore Agamenon. And after that when all was at an ende, Home to his tent euery lorde doth wende. And whyle the trewse endureth and the peace Amonge grekes kynge Pallamydes, Cumplayneth sore of Agamenon. That he so had the domynacyon, Aboue them all hauyng there at enuye. And on a day in his melancolye, Of hyghe despyte and indignacyon, Full inly fret with yrous passyon, He gan breke out and his rancour shewe. By certayne sygnes though he spake but fewe Tyll on a day the wyse Agamenon, Conceyued hath of highe discrecyon, Hooly this thyng & thought he ne wold spare, Fro poynt to poynt hym selfe to declare, Whan his lordes together were present, Tofore them all in his owne tent. As he that was this noble worthy kynge, Full circumspect in euery maner thyng. Nought to rakell nor melancolyus, But by attempraunce inly vertuous. Well auysed and wonderly prudent. Whan that he knewe the meaning and entent And the conceyte of this Pallamydes, He not to hastye nor to rekles, But longe abydyng thrugh prudence & reso•• Within the boundes of his discrecion. Whose tongue was only of sapyence, So restreyned that no neclygence, Of hasty speche sothly for to rape, Myght make a worde his lyppes to escape, Vnaduised for nothyng him asterte, But it were fyrst examyned in his herte. For aye his speche in so thryfty wyse, Conueyed was by doctryne of the wyse, Vnder the reyne of wyt and hyghe prudence, And after that by fourme of eloquence, Alway so sayde that reason went aforne, So that no worde was in his tale lorne. ¶And in this wyse shewynge his sentence, Tofore all in open audyence, Sayde euen thus whan that all was peace, Vnto the kynge called Pallamydes. ¶Sothly quod he if so ye take hede, Me semeth playnly that it were no nede, Auysedly if he lyste aduerte, To musen so nor grutchen in your herte, Of all this hoste that I haue gouernaunce, Wysely consydered euery circumstaunce, How I the estate whiche no man may denye, Wolde in no maner neuer occupye, By other tytle then free election. Not interrupt by medyacyon, Of brocage other roted vpon mede. Aye vnder meynt with fauour or falshede. Depeinte with coloure of trewe entencion, As might support suche false ambicion. ¶Of whiche thyng here I wyll me quite, Tofore you all that I am not to wyte, In any wyse of so hyghe offence. But stande clere in my conscyence, Without spot of any suche vayne glorye, Touchyng the estate whiche is transytorye. ¶Yet neuerthelesse I haue do my cure, With all my wyt to helpe and procure, That euery thyng touchyng the comentie, Perseuer myght in prosperyte. Hauyng the eye of my inwarde syghte, Vnto the estate of euery maner wyght, That were commytted to my gouernaunce, With great laboure and busy attendaunce. Indifferent vnto hye or lowe, To helpe & fostre where as I might knowe, That any stode in myschyefe or in neade.

Daye and nyght for to taken hede, As I beste coulde by aduysednesse, Aye dylygent that none felle in distresse. For sothfastly who so loke aryght, My dayes thought and my watche a nyght, And of my herte the inly aduertence, Without fraude slouthe or neclygence, Was faythfully with all my full myght, Me to acquyte to euery maner wyghte, Lyke his estate without excepcion. So that no man iustly of reason, Greke nor other that is nowe a lyue, Vnto my gylte may duely do ascryue, Any falsehede engyne or trecherye, Of loue or hate fauour or flaterye. In any cause named in specyall, But that I haue be a lyke egall, To one and all with all my busye payne. That no man hath mater to complayne, For his partie of hye or lowe estate, And to deuoyde of rancour and debate, Amonges you I haue do my deuer, In generall and thyng partyculer, That hyther toward nothing hath mischeued And god wote well it shuld not haue agreued, To my herte to set at any pryse, You to haue chose by your discrete aduyse, Some other to this domynacion. And I to haue be in subiection, With ease of herte and tranquillite. Lyke other lordes here of my degree. And in my wyll fully haue obeyed, Lyke one of you vtterly to haue deyed, In the quarell that we haue vndertake. If destyne had it so yshape. I saye in soth me is full loth to fayne, And ouermore also where ye playne, That I was chosen without your assent, Meruayle not syth ye ne were present, Nor longe after yf ye remembre a ryght, Towarde Troye your waye was not dyght. If ye consyder it was after nere, Or that ye came passed full two yere. And so longe to abyde your commyng, It had byn muche to grekes hyndryng, Passyng harme and full great damage, And huge lettynge vnto our voyage. For yf we had without any wene, ¶On your commynge taryed at Athene, It lykely is ye can not well saye naye, To haue be there yet vnto this daye. And where as ye thought it be not credyble, And eke affyrmed for an impossyble, That Grekes shulde in any maner wyse, Dare take on them any great Empryse, In your absence manly to acheue. It is but wynde nothyng for to leue, For so it be to you none offence, The grekes haue without your presence, Thrugh their force on water and on lande, Full many thynge parformed w^t their hande. And acheued through their worthynesse. And of one thyng that in me ye gesse, This to saye that of my degree, I shulde in herte so reioyse me, Of this lordshyp and this great estate, The more to be pompose and elate. In chere or porte that I it occupye, But me to acquyte trewely and not lye, And to deuoyde all suspection, I wyll make a resygnacion, Tofore you all for to excuse me. Nowe be auised discretly for to se, Whom ye lyst haue agayne to morowe prime. Without settyng of any longer tyme. Prolongyng forth or any more delaye, And thus they made an ende of that daye. And went their waye onely for that night, Tyll on the morowe y^t Tytan shad his lyght. At whiche tyme a counsayle generall, The grekes helde but most in specyall, Of lordes was there congregacion, As I haue tolde for the election. And when they were all mette yfere. ¶Agamenon anone as ye shall heare, Sayde euen thus with sadde countenaunce. Lo syres quod he touching the gouernaunce, That I haue hadde and dominacion, I haue therto with hole affection, And clene entente do my busynesse, That euery thinge might in wilfulnesse, To your encrease perseuer and contune. Recorde I take of god and Fortune. Whych haue conserued and the cause be, You for to floure in felycyte, So that your honour and your high noblesse Stande hole and sounde yet in sykernesse. And whyle your fame is most in flourynge,

As semeth me it is ryght well syttyng, Myne estate fully to resygne. Specially while fortune is beninge. ¶For of so many that be nowe present, I knowe my selfe onely insuffycient, Without helpe for to bere the charge. Men with to muche may ouerlade a barge. And namely when tempest is and rage, And syth ye be so discrete and sage, Of my burthen let me be releued. So that no man therwith be agreued. But let vs all of one entencion, Without stryfe or discencion, Chose suche one that most be acceptable, To you echone and moste couenable, You to gouerne by discrecion, And they echone with hole affection, Assented be to speke in generall. Here men may se how it is naturall, Men to delyte in thynges that is newe. The truste of people is faynt and vntrewe. Aye vndiscrete and full of doublenesse. And varyable of their sykernesse. Aye awaytyng in their opynyon, After chaunge and transmutacyon, Selde or neuer standyng hole in one, To day they loue to morowe it is gone. In whom full selde is any sykernesse. For onely now of newfangelnesse, That hath embraced their affection, They haue in stede of Agamenon, Of newe chose onely of fauour, ¶Pallamydes to be their gouernour. And of all Grece lyke as they desyre, To haue the Sceptre of the hole Empyre. And to be called aboute in euery coste, The onely Emperour of the Grekes hooste. Ryght as tofore was Agamenon, And this was fyne and conclusyon, For that day of their Parlement. And after that euery man is went, To his lodgyng home the ryght way. ¶But in his tente wounded as he laye, The hardy knyght the fyerse Achylles, Whan that he herde of Pallamydes, From poynt to poynt and of the election, He was displeased in his opynyon. And playnly thought as to his aduyse. Agamenon was passyngly more wyse, And more discrete vnto gouernaunce, Than was the tother as to his pleasaunce. And sayde it was none election, But a maner subrogacyon. Bycause hym selfe in the parlement, At the chesyng was not there present. Arettyng it passyng great offence, That the choyse was made in his absenee. Wherwith he was of herte inly wrothe. But where so be that he be lefe or loth. There is no more but in conclusion, In his strength stode the election.

¶Howe kyng Pryam in personne issued into batayle, for thaduēge of Hectors death, where he dyd ryght valyauntly. Cap. xxx.

THe trewse passed and ywered out, The wounded eke recured all aboute. The nexte morowe after Pryamus, In his herte was inly desyrous, With the grekes manly for to fyght. Hectors death tauenge if he myght. This olde Pryam knightly in the fyelde, That whan Troyans in them selfe behelde, The great will and the hygh courage, Of hym that was so ferre yronne in age. They gan reioyse and plucke vp theyr herte, And specyally whan they gan aduerte, His great manhode and his worthynesse. His liuelyed and his hyghe prowesse. And for his sake euery maner man, Gan arme him in all the haste they can, With Pryamus that day to lyue or deye, An hundred thousand and fyfty of the towne. Lyke as Dares maketh mencyowne. And worthy knyghtes they were euerychone Without other that with Pryam gone. ¶And all afore went Deiphobus, And Parys nexte and then Pryamus, Menon the kyng and worthy Eneas. And alderlast came Pollydamas. And as I fynde sterne and full of pryde. Pallamydes came on the tother syde, Into the fyelde with many stronge battayle, And fyrste when eche other gan assayle, Kynge Pryamus knyghtly his way chese, Through the wardes to Pallamydes And hym vnhorseth thrugh his hye renowne,

And lyke a knyght he kylleth & bereth downe The proude grekes where so that they rode. Was none so hardy that his sworde abode. For so narowe he gan them to coharte, That their wardes he made a sonder parte. On them he was so felle and furyous, For he that daye dyd dedesfull meruaylous. In armes wrought. that wonder was to sene And a maruayle how he may sustene, Of so great age in the fyelde tendure. For in credible was I you ensure, To se howe he through his great myght, The grekes put proudely to the flyght. ¶And Deiphobus was also not behynde, Agayne his foen knightly as I fynde. To acquyte him selfe & make thē to go backe, And Sarpedowne in whom eke is no lacke. Yfallen is on Neptolonius, The proudest greke and moste surquedous, And most famous as of strength and myght, The whiche agaynwarde rode ful lyne ryght To Serpedowne with a spere rounde, And delyuerly smote hym to the grounde, ¶But Sarpedowne full yrous in his herte, Without abode on his fete vp sterte, ¶And Neptolonye in his yre all hote, Thrughout the thighe w^t his sword he smote. ¶And than anone the kyng of Perce lande, That was so worthy & famous of his hande Of Sarpedowne whan that he toke hede, Knyghtly to hym restored hath his stede. ¶Not withstandyng that Menelaus, Was vpon hym passynge despyteous. And with hym eke the Duke of Athenes, Enclosed haue amonge the great prese, The kynge of Perce alas it shulde befall. And slewe hym as he amonge them all, ¶Full knyghtly fought lyke a champyowne. With multitude enclosed enuyrowne, And he him selfe but alone alas, All destitute in this mortall case. Thrugh whose mischefe they of Troy towne Gan to withdrawe tyll that Sarpedowne, Hath holpen them to recure there lande. Full many Greke kyllyng with his hande. ¶And kyng Pryam so manly founde at all, With his sonnes called naturall, Whiche vpon hym where so that he rode, The longe daye manfully abode, Departynge not playnely from his syde. And as the kynge and they togyther ryde, Full mortally the grekes they confounde. For Pryamus with many cruell wounde, Hath slayne of them many worthy man. On horsebacke amonge them as he ran. For there was none that day yonge nor olde, Of Troye towne so hardy nor so bolde, Of none estate that hath so well hym borne, Amonge Grekes or so well hath hym worne, From poynt to poynt to reken euery thynge, As hath Pryam the noble worthy kyng, For he alone was confusyon, To the grekes and destruction. Their outter mischiefe and discomfyture, Afore whose face they myght not endure. For thynges two in his mortall yre, Inwardely haue sette hym so a fyer, The harty hate that he bare of olde, Vnto grekes double many folde, With the death had in remembraunce, Of worthy Hector by contynuaunce. The whiche platly through his worthynesse, With his sworde he shope hym to redresse. For fret of hate and constreynt of his peyne, Were veryly thylke thynges twayne, By whiche that daye who so loke a ryght, His force was doubled and his myght, Where thrugh he toke so cruelly vengeaunce, That he the grekes brought to outtraunce. And thrugh his knyghthod put thē to y^e flight ¶But grekes then attones dyd their myght, By assent to assemble into one, And for a sleyght a syde out they gone, Into a playne large and fayre to se, Betwene Pryam and Troye the cytye, To fyne onely in their entenciowne, Hym to debarre the entre of the towne. For euery waye the grekes haue with set, That they of Troye had tho be let, At their repayre the storye telleth thus, Ne had the manhode be of Priamus. The whiche anone as any lyon stronge, With his sworde gan ryde them amonge, And seuered them with large woundes wyde And slewe all tho that wolde his sword abide Euery where endelonge on the playne. ¶And Paris eke hath them so belayne, With myghty shote of his stronge archers,

And with the pursuite of these Arbalasters, That they ne might of the shote so kene, The mortall harme abide nor sustene. But gan anone to fle out of the place, And kinge Priam so narowe gan thē chase, That of great nede and necessite, Through the slaughter and the cruelte, Of his sworde sharpe whet and grounde, There was no Greke in the felde yfounde, But fledde awaye eueriche to his tente, And they of Troye be to their Cite wente, Bycause it drewe faste towarde night. For Phebus hadde bereued them his light, ¶And so the honour of his high victorye, The worship eke the laude and memorye, Perpetually and the palme also, ¶Priam the kinge hath wonne and no mo. For that daye in release of his sorowe, ¶And as I reade on the next morowe, He hath ysente out of Troye towne, For a trewse to Agamenowne. Which graunted was the selfe daye at prime, Albe therof rehersed be no tyme. Howe longe it laste in the boke expresse. ¶During the which they did theyr businesse, Hertye laboure and inwarde diligence, For to ordayne with great reuerence, How that the corps of the worthy kinge, Of Perce lande without more taryinge, With kingly honour out of Troye towne, Shall caryed be into this regiowne. To be buryed with his predecessours, With other kinges of his progenitours. The whych thinge was complete by y^e aduise Of Alisaunder that called was Paris. And firste the corps enbawmed richely, Conueyed was and that full solempnely, As write Guido with an huge route, Of his knightes ridinge him aboute, Triste and heauy cladde in blacke echone, And with the chare the right way they gone, Towardes Perce ledinge of this kinge, The dead corps towarde his buryinge. Which halowed was like his estate royall. ¶And in this while the feaste funerall, Was holde also with great deuociowne, ¶Of worthy Hector within Troye towne. Like the custome vsed in tho dayes. And the rites of their paynym layes. The which feast as made is mencion, Fro yere to yeare by reuolucion, Yhalowed was the space of fourtnight, With many flawme and many hydous light, That brent enuiron in the sentuarye, And called was the Aniuersarye, For that it came aboute yeare by yeare, A certayne daye in theyr Kalendere. In whych of custome for a remembraunce, The people shoulde by continuaunce, Playne and wepe and also praye and reade, For theyr frendes that afore were deade, Ful piteously with theyr heyr to torne, Mourninge in black and kneling aye aforne The dead corps of this worthy knight. Which in his time so passinge was of mighte. And this was done while the trewse dure, So that the Grekes trustely might assure, When that theim list at good liberte, Without daunger enter this cite, Daye by daye and Troians might also, Vnto Grekes frely come and go.

AT whiche time with full great delite, Hath Achilles caught an appetite, To entre and se the maner of the towne. Without wisedome or dtscresciowne, For to beholde playnly and to se, Hoole the maner of this solempnite. And forthe he wente on a certayne daye, Towarde Troye in all the haste he maye. Vnarmed sothly as mine Auctour sayeth. Without assuraunce or any other fayth, Except the trewse who so be lyefe or lothe. And first of all to the temple he gothe, Of Apollo halowed where was the feaste. Throughout the towne downe vnto the lest. That cleped was the Anyuersarye, As ye haue herde what shuld I longer tarye. And many worthy present was therat, Amid the temple of high and lowe estate, Lordes and ladyes of affecciowne, From euery parte gathered of the towne. ¶Now was the corps of this worthy knyght As freshe of colour kept vnto the syght, As lyfely eke and as quicke of hewe, To beholde as any rose newe. Through vertue onely of the gummes swete, And the bawme that gan aboute flete.

To euery ioynt and eche extremyte, ¶And at this feast and solempnyte, Was Hecuba and yonge Pollicene, So womanly and goodly on to sene, With many other of high estate and lowe, Tofore the corps syttinge on a rowe, With heyr vntrussed cladde in wedes blake, That euer in one suche a sorowe make, That routhe was and pyte for to sene, Howe they playne and the death bimeane, Of worthy Hecor of knighthod groūd & well. ¶But trowe ye as Guydo lyst to tell, That Pollicene in all her wofull rage, Ychaunged hath vpon her visage, Her natife coloure as freshe to the sighte, As is the rose or the lelye white. Other the freshenes of her lippes red, For al the teares that she gan to shede. On her chekes as any cristall cleare. Her heyr also resembling to golde wyere, Whych laye abrode like vnto the sighte, Of Phebus beames in her sphere bright. Whan he to vs doth his light auale. And aye she rente with her fingers smale, Her golden heyre on her blacke wede. ¶Of whyche thing Achilles toke good hede, And gan meruayle greatly in his thoughte, How god or kinde euer might haue wrought, In theyr workes so fayre a ceeature. For him thought he might not endure, To beholde the brightnesse of her face. For he felte through his herte pace, The persinge streames of her eyen two, Cupides darte hath him marked so, For loue of her that in his desyre, He brente as hote as dothe any fyre, And after soonewith sodayne ire he quoke, And alwaye fixe on her he had his loke, So that the arowe of the god Cupide, Hath perced him euen through the side, To the herte and gaue him suche a wounde, That neuer was likly to be sounde, And aye in one his loke on her he caste, As he durste and gan to prese faste, Towarde her namely with his eye. That him thought he must nedes deye, But if that he founde in her some grace, There was no gayne for playnly in y^t place, Of newe he was caughte in loues snare. That of healthe and of all welfare, He was despeyred in his herte so, That he ne knewe what was beste to do. Eche other thinge I do you well assure, He set at nought and toke of it no cure, His thought was on her and no mo, The longe daye thus wente he to and fro, Tyll Phebus cheyre lowe gan decline. His golden axetre that so clere did shine, This to saye the sonne wente downe, Whan Hecuba quene of Troye towne, ¶And her doughter Pollycene also, Out of the temple to the paleys go. ¶And aye Achilles on her had a sighte, While that he might till for lacke of lighte, He maye no more haue leysure oportune, To loke on her cursed be fortune, For which in haste he maked hath his wente, With his knightes home vnto his Tente. Where he anone without more taryinge, To bedde goeth full tryste in complayninge, Aye in him selfe castinge vp and downe, In his minde and eke in his reasowne, From head to foote her beaute euerydell, And in his herte he felte and knewe ful well, That fynall cause of his languyshynge, Was Pollicene of beaute most passinge. For loue of whom so muche pay ne he felte, That with the heat he thought his hert melt. Aye on his bedde walowinge to and fro. For the constreynt of his hidde wo, For which almost him thought that he deyde, And to him selfe euen thus he seyde, ¶Alas quod he howe me is wo begone, That of my sorowe knowe ende none. For I suppose sith the worlde began, Ne was there neuer a more wofull man. For I that whylom was of so great myght, So renowmed of euery maner wyght, Throughout the worlde both of high & lowe For there was none in sothe that could know A man in armes that was more famous, Nor yet yholde more victorious, Tofore this time remembred by no stile, Vnto this daye alas the harde while, Nother Hector playnly nor none other. Of Pollicene that was the worthy brother. That power had when they with me mette, For all theyr might me to ouersette.

Nor in the felde my force for to daunte, Here pryuely as I me dare auaunte, ¶But nowe alas a mayde of tender age, Hath sodaynly me brought in suche a rage, That with the streames of her eyen twayne, She perced hath and clouen euery vayne, Of my herte that I maye not asterte, For to be dead thrugh constreynt of my smert ¶For who shall nowe wishe me or teache, Or who alas shall nowe be my leche, Or who alas shall helpe me or saue, There is but death and after that my graue, For other hope playnly is there none. Saue in her mercy alas and that is gone, For nother prayer treasour nor rychesse, Force nor might nother high prowesse, Highnes of bloud byrthe nor kinrede, Maye auayle nor helpen in this nede, To meue her nor my sadde trouthe, Vpon my wo euer to haue routhe. ¶What newe furye or inportune rage, Hath brought my hertin to suche outrage, Agaynst whych I can not nowe debate, ¶To loue her beste that deadly doth me hate ¶And in good fayth who wysely lyste aduert Lytell wonder though she me hate of herte, Syth I am come hither, fro so ferre, On her kinrede for to make werre, In the whyche to my confusyowne, Her knightly brother most worthy of renown Haue fatally with mine handes slawe. Whych in this worlde had no felowe, Of worthynesse nor of manlyheade. Alas alas nowe maye I quake and dreade, And of my lyfe fallen in dispeyre. For howe shoulde I be bolde to haue repeyre Or dare alas come in theyr syghte, I woful wretche I vnhappy wighte, Or howe shall I be hardy to appeare, In the presence of her eyen cleare, Certys I se none other mene weye, But fynally that I must nedes deye. So dispeyred I stande on euery syde. Of other helpe I con me not prouyde, And ryght anone with scaldinge sighes depe, This Achilles braste out for to wepe, With deadly cheare pale and funerall; And with his face tourned to the wall, That routhe was and pyte for to sene, The hertye furye of his paynes kene. For so oppressed he was in his thoughte, Of lyfe nor death that he rought nought. And this continued till it drewe to nyght, That Titan hath withdrawe his clear light, And euer in one like this wofull man, Ilyche like of coloure pale and wan, Without slepe so fretinge was his sorowe. ¶Tyll Lucifer on the next morowe, Tofore the sonne with his beemes cleare, Full lustely gan for to appeare. In the oryent whan this Achilles, Vnpacient wythout reste or peace, Quakinge aye in his feuer newe, As it was sene playnly in his hewe. Tyll he abrayde of anguishe sodaynly, And called one that was with him pryue. And of counsayle whom he trusteth well, And vnto him he telleth euerydell, Fro poynt to poynt with him howe it stode. And sent him forth bycause he could his good On his message streyght to Troye towne, With full aduise and informaciowne, Of this mattere to Hecuba the quene. Through his wisedome for to be a mene, If so he might by his discrecion, Finde any waye as of saluacion, Vnto his lorde that he loued so. And to the quene anone he is go, And his matter wisely gan conueye, Tofore or he of grace would her preye, That she enioyeth to gyue him audience, For in his tale there was none offence. ¶He was no foole nor newe for to lere, Wherfore the quene goodly gan him here, Of all that euer him liketh for to sayne, There was no word ylost nor spoke in vaine. For his tale no man could amende, And craftely he gan to discende, To the substaunce and tolde clerely oute, With premisses full well brought aboute, That fynally in conclusyon, The chiefe he sayde of his entencion, Effectuelly if it would be, Was for to make peace and vnyte, Atwene Grekes and the folke of Troye. To whych thinge he knewe no better weye, Than of the werre for their alder ease, By his witte prudently to appease,

The mortall stryfe and the bytter rage, By allyaunce onely of maryage, If that her lyst this wise worthy quene, ¶That her doughter fayre Pollicene, Maye wedded be vnto Achilles. Where through theyr might be a fynall peas, If Hecuba by her discrescion, Through her wytte and medyacion, And her prudence might about brynge, That Pryamus were fully assentinge, ¶That Achilles might his doughter wyue. So that it might parfourmed be as blyue, Lyke as tofore made is mencin, By couenaunt onely and condicion, That the Grekes shall theyr werre lete, And suffer him to lyuen in quyete. If the maryage of these ylke twayne, Parfourmed be and knyt vp in a chayne. ¶And when y^e quene hath knowen his entēt, Full soberly by good aduysement, Tofore or that any worde asterte, Full pyteously she sighed in her herte, And at the laste with a sobre cheare, Euen thus she sayd to the messagere, My frende quod she touchynge thy requeste, I can no more make the beheste, But at the leste I will condescende, What lyeth in me to bringe to an ende, Thy lordes wyll with all my herte entiere. But herevpon I must fyrst requere, The kinges wyll if he lyst to assente. To the purpose for whych thou arte sente. And ouermore I must wytte also, If that Parys be willynge eke therto. Of whych thynge with euery circumstaunce, I wyll my selfe maken enqueraunce, ¶Full faythfully of Priam and Parys, The meane whyle what is theyr aduyse, Without more within dayes thre. At whiche time come againe to me, From Achilles if so he will the sende, And fynally thou shalt knowe an ende, Of this matter and an aunswere playne. And home he goeth to Achilles agayne, ¶With full glad cheare his lorde the more to please, And for to set his hert at better ease, Auysedly of high discrescion, He hath so made his relacion, And tolde his tale in so thrifty wyse, As he that could his wordes so deuyse, To brynge in hope into his lordes herte, With full relese of his paynes smerte, Wherby he made his sorowe to withdrawe, And thus whyle hope gan to adawe, ¶Amid his breke. and Hecuba the quene, ¶To Priam spake of this Pollycene, Touchinge the sonde of this Achilles, And of his profre for to make a peace, She tolde him all and forgate nothinge, Wherof astoned Priamus the kynge, Spake not a worde halfe an houres space, But in him selfe gan inly to compace. Full prudently what it might meane, That Achilles would haue Pollycene. Vnto his wife aye wonderynge more & more And at the laste syghinge wonder sore, He hath disclosed the conceyt of his herte, And sayd alas howe sore it doth me smerte, To remembre that I may haue no peace, The great offence of this Achilles, Towardes me playnly when that he, Slewe worthy Hector through his crueltye, That hooly was vpon euery side, The hoole assuraunce gouernour and guyd Of me and mine platly for to sayne. And therwithall of myne eyen twayne, He was alone the very sothfast lyght. Shelde & protectour thrugh his great might And his manhode agayne the mortall rage, Of Grekes werre in my croked age, ¶But nowe alas to my confusyowne, He slayne is so worthy of renowne. By Achilles which maye not out of minde. That in my herte I can neuer fynde, To be allyed with my mortall foo, Roote and grounde of all my sorowe & woo. It were full harde my herte to appease, To loue him that causeth mine vnease. On euery halfe where through my cruel foen The proude Grekes harted be echone. Agaynst me nowe Fortune is contrayre. Tourned of newe my quarell to apayre. That causeth Grekes wood and furyous, On me alas to be presumptuous. ¶Onely for Hector is me berafte awaye. But sythen I no other choyse maye, Agaynst herte though it for anger ryue, In this matter assaye I shall to stryue,

Though me be lothe and sytteth me full sore, Yet to eschewe harmes that be more, Which lykly be hereafter for to fall, And for to saue myne other sonnes all, I will consente that this Achilles, So that he moke a trewe fynall peace, Atwene Grekes and also this Cite, Without more playnly howe that he, Haue vnto wyfe my doughter Pollycene. ¶But leste that he any treason meane, My will is firste how so that it wende, Of his behest that he make an ende, Wythout fraude this is mine aduise. ¶To whych counsayle assenteth eke Parys, And more rather in conclusyon, For there was made none excepcioon, ¶In this Trete of the quene Heleyne, That Menelaye neuer shoulde atteyne, Her to recure agayne vnto hys wyfe. For whyche Parys without noyse or stryfe, Or grutchynge other vnto this entente, Within him selfe was fully of assente, Therby hopynge without feare or dreade, Perpetually Heleyne to possede. Right at his luste and no man shall saye nay. And after this vpon the thirde daye, ¶Achilles hath to wytte of this mattere, To Hecuba sente his messingere. And she him tolde the aunswere of the kynge, Ceryously gynninge and endinge. And how that he assenteth well therto, ¶And Parys eke and she her selfe also, If it so were playnly she him tolde, Touchinge the peace that the purpose holde. And fyrste that he his heste brynge aboute, That they be sure therof nede not doubte, That he shall haue his purpose euerydele, If that he worke prudently and wele. And herevpon with informaciowne, This messenger out of Troye towne, Without abode in all the haste he maye, To Achilles helde the ryghte waye. And tolde him hole the effect of this mattere, And he alwaye feruente and entiere, In herte brent as hole as any glede, And sawe there was none other way to spede But onely peace as ye haue herde me telle. ¶And aye his brest with sighes gan to swel, For the only loue of this Pollycene, And caste alwaye amonge his throes kene, To his purpose a waye for to fynde, And whyles he was busy in his mynde, How he shoulde his purpose brynge aboute, And in him selfe casteth many doubte, ¶Anone dispayre in a rage vp sterte, And cruelty caught hym by the herte, Whych hath him throwe into suche a were, That him thoughe it was in his power, All his beheste to fulfyll in dede. Except he hadde well the lesse dreade. Euery thinge to put in certayne, Wening no Greke would his luste with fayne From his desyre to be varyable, And to him selfe thus was he fauorable, For to parfourme and nothynge to denye, All that was lusty to his fantasye. As is the maner of louers euerychone. That they suppose to acheue anone, What thinge it be that they lyst take on hand, In what disioynt that the matter stande, All though it be a very impossyble, In theyr foly they be aye so credible. And so Achilles trusteth fynally, For to fulfyll his hestes vtterly, Supposinge aye for his worthynesse, For his manhode and his hygh prowesse, In whych he did him selfe gloryfye, Some what of pryde and of surquedrye, How the Grekes shoulden be despayred, Both of theyr truste & theyr might appeyred, Vpon Troians to wynnen any lande, If it so were that he withdrewe his hande, To helpe theim and therwithall also, Home into Grece that they wolden go, From the syege onely for his sake. And their quarell vterly forsake. ¶But it so were this daye fyerse Achille, With theym abode the cite for to spylle. For whyche thinge the lordes by assente, Assembled were to heren the entente, Amonge theim all of thys Achilles. By the byddinge of Pallamydes, And when they were gathered all yfere, Tofore theim all lyke as ye shall heare,

THis Achilles hath his tale begonne. And sayd syres that so muche konne, Both of wysedome and of high prudence,

So renowmed eke of sapyence, Throughout the worlde & of discreciowne, And be so worthy also of renowne. Kynges and dukes of whose royall name, From East to West floureth yet the fame. Both of knyghthode and of manlyhead. To that I saye I pray you taken hede. This to saye yf that ye consyder, The playne entent of our commyng hyther, By good auyse that our entencyon, Had no grounde founded on reason, Nor cause roted on no maner ryght. If it so be that ye lyft vp your syght, And aduerte clerely in your mynde, Full ferre a backe wytte was set behynde, Prudent lokyng and aduysenesse, For fyrst whan that we of foly hastynesse, Toke vpon vs to come from so ferre, Agayne Troyans for to gynne a werre. And to ieoparte our lyues euerychone, For the loue of one man alone. Ye wote all I trowe whom I meane. ¶Kyng Menelay defrauded of his quene. To telle trouth me lyste not for to feyne, For ye well wote onely that Heleyne, Was groūde and gynnyng of all this debate. For whom so many worthy of estate, Recurlesse of any remedye, Lyfe and good haue put in ieopardye. Our landes lefte and eke our regyownes, Our cyties also and our ryche townes. Whiche by our absence stonden desolate, Wyues and chyldren eke disconsolate. In woe abyde mournynge and distresse, Whyles that we here the soth to expresse, From day to day beset on euery ryde, Lye in the felde and our death abyde. In sorowe and care in labour and in wo, And with all this ye wotte well also, Sith fyrst tyme that the werre began, Of our grekes how many worthy man, Hath loste his lyfe thrugh deathes fatal woūd That hytherto haue myght lyued & be sounde At home in Grece assured well in ioye. If they ne had comen vnto Troye. That to remembre it is full great pyte, ¶And ouer this I saye also for me, Amonge Troyans in their cruell mode, I haue so moche loste of my bloude. That hath full ofte made pale of hewe. ¶This other day also grene and newe, I had of Hector suche a mortall wounde, With a quarell sharpe what and grounde, Aboue the thygh so kene was the head, The same daye afore that he was dede, Of very happe as it was yshape, That from the death vnneth I might escape. Whiche yet all freshe is vpon me sene. Large and wyde and as yet but grene. The smerte of whiche I yet ful sore cōplayne. ¶And in good fayth me semeth that Heleyne If ye aduerte wysely in your thought, With suche a pryse shulde nat haue be bought. Where through our lyfe and our good yfeare, And our honour are yput in were. And dreadfully hangen in ballaunce. For yf that ye in your remembraunce, Conceyue aryght and casten vp and downe, The sodayne chaunge and reuoluciowne, That fallen hath syth the werre began, The slaught & death of many worthy man, That for her sake hath here loste his lyfe. And yet the worste of this mortall stryfe, Doth moste rebounde into our damage. To disencrease and eke disauauntage, And lykely is dayly to be more, If ordenaunce be not made therfore. And remedy shape on outher syde. By fyne onely that Heleyne do abyde. With them of Troye styll here in the towne. And let vs caste by good inspectiowne, For our ease some other maner waye, ¶So that the kynge called Menelay, Chese hym a wyfe in some other londe. Lyke his estate by suraunce or by bonde. Vnder wedlocke confyrmed vp of newe, That vnto hym wyll be founde trewe. Syth that we without gylte or synne, May him by the law from this Heleine twyn. For of dyuerse causes be ynowe, Thrughout y^e world of euery wight yknowe. Of auoutry for the foule vyce, That it to lawe is no preiudice, ¶Though Menelay iustly her forsake. Whan so his lyste and an other take. That shall hym both better queme and please And so to vs it shall be full great ease. Whan the werre is brought to an ende.

Whiche lykely is many man to shende. If it so be that it forth contune. The great labour is so importune. That we ne shall no whyle mowe sustene. For this is soth withouten any wene, Troyans yet be flourynge in their myght. And w^t them haue full many worthy knighte. To helpe them of hye and lowe degre, And therwithall so stronge in their cite, On euery parte without and eke within, That we are not lykely for to wynne, In our purpose though we euer abyde. Wherfore by wysedome let vs voyden pryde. And wylfulnesse onely of prudence, To haue the eye of our aduertence, To our profyt more then vaine glorye. And while our honour shineth by victory, A wysedome is to withdrawe our honde. Sith we may not constrayne by no bonde, Fortunes whele for to abyde stable. Wherfore I rede or she become mutable, This gery goddesse with her double chere, Let vs gyue vp suche thynge as lyeth in were. Whyles that we may our alder worshyp saue, For of the werre the laude yet we haue. Consyder well how by your manhead, ¶Our most foe Hector is now dead. And whyle that we in our honour floure, My counsayle is before fortune loure, As I sayd ere to chaunge her bryght face, Whyle that we beste stonde in her grace, By one assent and one oppynyon, Without any contradiction, Of herte and wyll both of one and all, Or our honour on any partye pall, Into Grece that we home returne. For if that we longer here soiourne, On the quarell that we haue longe sewed, Doutles it may not be eschewed, Full great damage this without fayle, Or we haue done shall folowe at the tayle. Wherfore beste is our folye vp resygne, And whyle our hap is welfull and benynge, Most blandyshynge and of face fayre, The tyme is beste to make our repayre, Whyle that we stande in party and in all, With our enmyes in honour perygall. And fer aboue playnly if that we, Coulde haue an eye to our felicite. Whyle that it is in his ascencion. ¶But lest some man wyll make obiection, That we may not so our honour saue, To repayre playnely but we haue, Helayne agayne that is cause of all. To whiche thynge anone answere I shall. ¶If any man in his fantasye, To dishonour or to vyllanye. Arrecte wolde in any maner kynde, We to go home and leue her behynde. Shortely to saye I holde it be no shame, Syth that we haue one as great of name, ¶As is Heleyne and of byrthe as good, Amonges vs ycome of kynges bloud. ¶Syster to Pryam lorde of Troye towne. ¶Exiona whom that Thelamowne, In kepynge hath if I shall not feyne, In Troye towne as Parys hath Heleyne. And syth nowe it may be none other, Let the tone be set agayne the tother. And the surplus of olde enmyte, Betwyxe vs and Troye the cite. My counsayle is for our both ease, By one assent wysely to appease. This all and some and that we hence wende. I can no more my tale is at an ende. ¶To whom anone kyng Menelaus, For very yre wood and furyous. ¶And kyng Thoas the duke eke of Athene, As they that myght no longer hym sustene, To suffre hym they were so reckles, Spake all attones vnto Achylles. Not onely they but through inpacyence. The courte perturbed without prouydence. With tumulte gonnen to repreue, ¶This Achilles and proudely them cōmeue Agaynst hym and his opynyon. And sayde shortely in conclusyon, Vnto his read they ne wolde assent. Nor condescende to nothyng that he mente, To be gouerned by him in this case. ¶For whiche thynge anone Achylles was, So full of yre and rancour in his herte. That sodaynely from his see he sterte, And went his waye as he were in a rage. Tryste and pale and a wood vysage. And shortly sayde for him lyke not fayne, That he ne wolde longer do his payne, To helpe them how so that they spede,

Agayne Troyans for no maner nede. ¶And bad anone this hardy Achilles, To his knyghtes called Myrmydones, That they no more with spere nor with shelde To helpe grekes entre into fyelde. But kepe thē close at home within thetr tente, Thus in his yre he gaue commaundement, To all his men as ye haue herde deuyse. Them to withdrawe at euery hygh empryse, Whan so euer they go into battayle. And in this whyle scarsenesse of vyttayle, Fell in the hoost of fleshe of bred and wyne. That many Greke brought vnto his fyne. For they ne myght endure for distresse, Constreynt of hunger dyd thē so oppresse. ¶Tyll at the laste kyng Pallamydes, As he that was in nothynge reckeles, Hath therupon made purueyaunce, Remedye and redye ordynaunce, And by assent and counsayle of echone, ¶He hath sent wyse Agamenon, The worthy styng to Messa there besyde, A lyttell Ile onely to prouyde, For the grekes if he myght spede. Them to releue in this great nede. ¶And Thelephus kynge of that lande, Of gentylnesse hath put to his hande, As he that was large and wonder free, And renowmed of muche humanite. To succour them commaundyng aye anone, His purueyours in all hast to gone, From euery party aboute enuyron, Through all the landes of his regyon, And faythfully to serche euery coste, To take vp vytayle for the grekes hooste. ¶And after that full hastely he made, To stuffe their shyppes playnly and to lade, With euery thynge that was necessarye, To the grekes and by water carye, At requeste of kynge Agamenon, Without taryinge or delacyon. ¶And so the kyng with plente of vytayle, Fraughte and ylade gan anone to sayle, Towarde the syege he and his meynee. Aye costynge by the grekyshe see. ¶The wynde was good & the kyng as blyue With his nauye at Troye dyd aryue. In fewe dayes and Grekes anone ryght, Of his repeyre were full glad and light. Of his exployt and his good spede. That he so well hath borne him in this nede. ¶And after this Pallamydes anone, As sayth Guydo is to his shyppes gone, For to consyder and loke all aboute, Where nede was within and eke without. Any of them to amende or repare, As he that lyste for no coste to spare. In euery thynge without neclygence. Touchynge his charge to do his dylygence, Tyll the trewse fully were out ronne. And the werres newe agayne begonne. Whiche many man sothly dere abought, And ceryously to wryte howe they wrought, My purpose is playnly in sentence, Vnder supporte of your pacyence.

DVrynge in one the deadly cruell hate, That stynte may nor cesse by no date. Atwyxe Grekes and them of the towne. To great damage and destructiowne, On outher parte felynge full vnswete. Tyll on a daye they caste for to mete, As they were wont proudely w^t spere & shelde With their wardes entrynge into fyelde, Armed full bryght vpon outher syde. ¶And enbatayled stoute and full of pryde, Full knyghtly haue chose their ground & take Their large baners with the wynde yshake, Tyll they togyther sodaynly haue mette. ¶And alderfyrst Deiphobus hath sette, Freshe and lusty and of herte yrous. ¶Vpon a kyng called Creseus, And of enuye the storye telleth than, On horsebacke as they together ran. ¶Deiphobus fyrste with his spere as blyue, Throughout the breste euen dyd hym ryue. Vnto the herte that he spake no more. The deth of whom Grekes playne sore. And for his loue suche a woe they make, That all astoned they haue the fyelde forsake And gan anone vnto theyr tentes flee. The whiche in sothe when they of Troye see, Vpon the chase faste gan them spede. Vnto tyme that worthy Dyomede, ¶And with him eke the kynge Pallamydes, Of hye despyte cruell and mercyles, With twenty thousande worthy knyghtes al, Vpon Troyans sodaynly are fall.

And mortally made them lese their waye, And to resorte home agayne to Troye. ¶And eke with grekes felle and furious, The same tyme came Thelamonius, That hyght Ayax the stronge knightly man, And lyke a Lyon amonge them as he ran, Vpon Troyans and them ouer sette, Casually in his waye he mette, ¶Cecylien lusty freshe and lyght, And of his tyme a wonder manly knyght. And sonne was to Pryam as I rede, Whom Thelemon pryckyng on his stede, Slewe cruelly with his sworde anone. Rasynge his arme from the shuldre bone. That he alas fell dead in the fyelde. The deth of whō whan Deiphobus behelde, Wodder anone then Tygre or Lyon, With a spere rauhe to Thelamon, And smette him so through his plates bright, Of very force that he made hym lyght, And lese his sadell be set amonge the prese. ¶The whiche stroke whan Pallamydes, Behelde and sawe and clerely gan aduerte, Irous and wood with a furyous herte, Caste hym anone to auenge Thelamowne. On Deiphobus full worthy of renowne. And mortally his guerdon him to quyte, And with a spere grounde for to byte, Sharpe and kene large rounde and square, Full cruelly or that he was ware, Through his harneys without more areste, ¶Deiphobus he smote so in the breste, That with the stroke he brake y^e shafte a two. So that the tronchone and the head also, Lefte in his breste that there was no waye, Fynally but that he must deye. There was none helpe nor remedye at all, The wounde was so cruell and mortall, That with the lyfe he myght not abyde. ¶And in this whyle Parys came besyde, Of auenture whyle this Deiphobus, Was of his wounde so inly anguyshous, And gan in hast for to approche nere, With face pale and right an heuy chere, And for his distresse wepte pyteously. And his knightes commaunded hastely, His wounded brother a syde softe and feare, In all hast that they shulde forthw^t do beare. Out of the wardes from the great prese. Vnto his payne for to do relese, For to a brethe hym at leyser and auente. In open eyre and they vnto hym wente, Maugre the grekes where he wounded was And bare him out a full easy pase, Towarde the walle faste by the towne, And with great dole and lamentaciowne, Full softely on the grounde hym layde. Tyll at the laste this deadly man abrayde, With mortall loke and face funerall, And there pyteous so that eche ball, Gan tourne vp of his deadly eye, And euen thus to Parys he gan seye. Oh brother myne whom that I loued so, Haue now pyte and rewe vpon my wo, Of kyndnesse and of brotherheade, And to my wordes of routhe take now hede, Syth we by death muste a sonder twynne. ¶For Attropose shal no longer spynne, My lyues threde but the knotte breke, Wherfore brother I praye the to be wreke, Vpon my deth or I hense pace. If that thou lyste to do me suche a grace, Of kyndnesse yet or I be deade. Out of my breste or this speres heade, Be rent away that thou auenged be, Vpon my foe as I truste in the. That I may wyt he be dead or I, And that his spyryte it passe fynally, And fyrste discende depe downe in helle. Eternally with Pluto for to dwelle. Myd his boundes that derke byn and lowe. That fynally so that I may knowe, That he be dead there is no more to saye, I gyue no force how soone that I deye. ¶To whose request Parys toke good hede▪ And into fyelde faste gan hym spede, For thought and woe pyteously wepynge, Whyle his brother laye there lanquyshynge. Not awaytynge but onely after death, Vpon the poynt to yelden vp the breth. ¶And with his knightes Parys vp & downe The wardes sought about enuyrowne, ¶Tyll at the laste Pallamydes he fonde. With Sarpedon fyghtyng hande of hande. Now was this king this worthi Sarpedown Come in defence of them of Troye towne. Whiche of his hande was a noble knight, And whyle that he with all his full myght,

¶Moste busy was Pallamydes to presse, Lyke a Lyon whetted with woodnesse, Pallamydes in herte not a ferde, Let flye at hym with his sharpe sworde, So myghtely that it was a wonder, For he his thygh parted hath a sonder, And smote of by the herde bone. ¶That Sarpedon fyll downe dead anone. So that Troyans whan that he was slawe, Were compelled of force them to withdrawe, Through the pursuite of kyng Pallamydes. Whiche vpon them was so merciles. And as cruell as a wood Lyon. ¶After the death of kyng Sarpedon. The whiche alas whan Parys dyd espye, He marked hym with a cruell eye, And hente a bowe that passyngly was strong And with an arowe to his tyller longe, Entoxycat with venym in the head, That whom he smote therwith was but dead And hytte hym so in the auentayle, Throughout the stuffe and the thicke mayle, Into the throte that it gan through pace, That he fell dead in the selfe place, ¶Pallamydes this manfull worthy knight. Where through Grek{is} toke them to the flight And made a noyse and a wofull crye, The death complaynyng wonder piteouslye, Of their lorde and myghty gouernour. But late chose to be their Emperour, Their chiefe socour and soueraine refute, But now alas they stonde destitute, Of gouernaunce broke and disarayed, Without guyde ryght as shepe dismayed, Disconsolate and comfortlesse yshent. That eche of them flyeth vnto his tente. And they of Troye sued on the chace, On horsebacke a wonder huge pace, And merciles slewe them as they fle. On euery syde that pyte was to se. Without mercy or any other grace. For lyke the Lyons they gan them enchace. Tyll they compelled of necessyte, Constrayned were through their cruelte, To tourne agayne and them selfe diffende. And they of Troye downe anone discende, Of horsebacke euen vpon the playne, And attones there was none other gayne, They gan the grekes proudely to outraye, And cruelly do them so disamaye, That fynally there gayneth no diffence, So mortall was the mighty violence, Of Troyans that Grekes so diffoyle, And alderfyrste at leyser they dispoyle, The grekes tentes of golde and rychesse, At whiche time Troylus gan him dresse, And Parys eke downe to their nauye, With thirtye thousande in their companye. Kyllyng all tho playnly that they mette, And on their shyppes wylde fyre they sette. That to the wall of Troye the Cyte, Men myght well the hydous flawme se. ¶And all had gone to destruction, Ne had Ayax ycalled Thelamon, Through his manhode & knyghtly excellence Come anone and made resystence, Of the grekes with many worthy knyght, And tho of new began the mortall fyght. Atwene Troyans and the grekes stoute, The red bloud raylyng all aboute, Vpon the playne so hydously they blede, And here and there both in length and brede; Dead and maymed and full pale of syght, Vpon the soyle full many noble knyght. Atwyxe them so cruell was the hate. For in their fyght togyther they debate, As wylde bores euen so they fare. For none of them lyste other for to spare. And in the fyelde worthy Thelamowne, Through his knyghthod & his high renowne So manly bare hym grekes to deffende, That no mā might in manhode him amende. Thrugh all y^e world though men had sought. For he that day in his person hath wroughte, Meruailes in armes thrugh his great might That in sothnesse Grekes anone ryght, Without hym had fynally be shent, And their shyppes attones loste and brent, Through the pursuite of Parys that day, ¶And worthy Troilus y^t made such affraye, Amonges them through hygh prowesse. That fyfty shyypes Guydo doth expresse, Were loste and brent or that Thelamowne, To reskus came with his knightes downe. Vnto the sea the remenaunt for to saue. But for all that Troyans that daye haue, The hygher hande of this mortall fyght. Through the force and the great myght.

Of Troylus only which hath so many slaine, Of the grekes in soth that they were fayne, Them to withdrawe and the fielde to lete. For in abydyng they fonde full vnswete. Wherfore they gan for to lese their place, ¶Amonge which the kinges sonne of Trace That Heber hyght wounded to the death, That he ne myght vnneth drawe his breth, With a spere in his breste styckynge. ¶To Achylles he came in complaynyng, Vnto his tent euen there he laye, Whiche in the fyelde was not all that daye. ¶For the sake onely of Pollycene. The loue of whom was so sharpe and kene, Aye at his herte ylyke grene and newe. To whom Heber with a mortall hewe. Complayneth sore arrettyng cowardyse, And in manhode a very trewandyse, That he that day myght so for shame, Withdrawe him selfe in hindring of his name Out of the fyelde to hym full great reprefe, Of the grekes seynge the mischiefe, That they were in. and confusyon, Vpon the brinke of their destruction. Abrode the fielde to se them so lye deade, And lyste not ones for to take hede, Of his knyghthode grekes to releue. ¶And whyle Heber gan hym thus repreue, And the spere whiche in his body was, All sodaynly was drawen out alas, With Eye vp caste in rancoure and in yre, Full pyteously Heber dyd expyre. ¶In the presence of this Achylles. And therwith came in a sodayne res, Into his tente a certayne knyght of his, ¶Of whom Achylles axeth how it is, Amonge the grekes and clerely how it stode. And he answered full Irours in his mode, Certes quod he full vnhappely, For they of Troye haue so cruelly, Our grekes all this daye in their fyght, Full shamefully put vnto the flyghte. So many slayne alas and welawaye, That vnneth none escape myght awaye, Vnhurte maymed or withouten wounde, So fell on vs Troyans were yfounde. And of them eke was suche multitude. That I suppose shortely to conclude, This daye there was to my opynyowne, Not lefte a man within Troye towne. That able was to stande in battayle. With spere or sworde his enmye to assayle, I Wene in soth but they byn come out, With vs to fyght there was so huge a route. That we ne myght of force take on hande, In the fyelde agaynst them for to stande. ¶But nowe my lorde it draweth vnto night, That they be faynte any more to fyght. If it were pleasyng to your worthynesse, To your manhode and your hygh noblesse, To take on you to your encrese of fame, For euermore to getten you a name, And there withall for your owne glorye, Perpetually to be in memorye, To ryse vp and arme you anone, And sodaynely vpon them to gone, Feble and weake to make resystence, Agaynst your manly famous excellence. There were no more but we were victours, For e••er more and very conquerours. Duryng the worlde to be in remembraunce. And they for euer brought vnto outraunce, In sothfastnesse I haue of it no dread. ¶But Achylles toke of hym no hede, Nor to Heber that laye afore him dead, Full colde and strake of coloure lyke to leade. Nor ones lyste to gyue hym audience, Nor vnto hym haue his aduertence. There may no worde in his herte myne, To that he sayde to maken hym enclyne. For vtterly euen lyke he ferde, As though he no maner worde ne herde. For through his eares it passed as a sowne. ¶Lo here the maner and condiciowne, The very custome and the playne vsaunce, Of these louers hangyng in a traunce. ¶Honour, worshyp, manhode and prowesse Strength, might, fame and hardynesse, Encrease of name vertue and victorye, Knyghthode, noblesse, and in armes glorye, All these myghtye can loueley asyde, Suche is the myght of the god Cupyde. Whiche hertes hye with his hoke can sease, So loth they are playnly to displease, Outher in chere or in countenaunce. In wyll or dede or disobeysaunce. To her that is theyr souerayne lady dere. For with a loke of her eyen clere,

She can full well daunte all their pride. For Venus soone so can prouyde, His arrowes kene to perce nerfe and vayne, And them enlace in his fyry chayne, That onely through his importable charge, They be restrayned for to go at large. Whiche cause was this day doubtles, That this noble hardy Achylles, Wolde not withouten any wene, Come in the fyelde for drede of Polycene. Leste that she were offended in her herte. If any thynge escaped or asterte, This Achylles throughe mysgouernaunce. And whyles he hengeth thus as in balaunce, The grekes faught with them of the twone, Tyll bryght Phebus was at goinge downe, That Troyans of necessytye, For lacke of lyght entre the citye. And whyle that they homewarde be repeyred Laye Deiphobus of his lyfe dispeyred. Compleynyng aye on his deadly wounde. And whan Parys & troylus haue hym found In that myschyefe they gan wepe and crye, As they wolde for very routhe dye. With wofull noyse and with pyteous sowne, The salte teares gan to renne downe, On their chekes vpon outher syde. And whyles they vpon hym abyde, This wounded man gan drawe to his ende. Whose spyryte was redy for to wende, Out of his brest and his wery goste, Full hastely into another coste, With deadly eyen tourned vp so downe. Whan that he knewe by relacyowne, ¶That Parys hath Pallamydes yslawe. Anone he bad that they shulde out drawe, The large tronchone with the stelen head. And there with all anone he fell downe dead. And with the corps they gan them faste spede Towarde the towne but for it is no nede. The dole to wryte and lamentaciowne, That made was for the noble Sarpedowne, Through the cytye and namely of the kynge, And of the quene euer in wepynge, Of his brethren and his systers dere. It were but vayne to reherse it here. ¶But Pryam hath with great dylygence, Two towmbes of royall excellence, For Deyphobus and kynge Sarpedowne, With many ymage grauen enuyron, And many a knotte koruen here and yonder. And buryed them but a lyttle a sonder, Lyke the custome of their rytes olde. And whyles they the feste halowe & holde, That called is the feste funerall, The Grekes haue do make in specyall, A ryche toumbe to the worthy kyng, ¶Pallamydes and for his buryinge. Solempnely made ordinaunce, Amonges them as it was vsaunce, And with great dole and pyteous heuynesse, They haue this kynge of great worthynesse, Royally brought to his sepulture. ¶And for they myght longe not endure, Without an head and a gouernour, They chosen haue to their Emperour, By one assente and affection, The worthy kyng the wyse Agamenon. ¶And after they made no lettynge, They of Troye the next day ensuynge, With their wardes in to fielde to gone, Fully purposed to fyght with their foen, And grekes manly in the face them mette. But worthy Troylus so them ouer sette, That greke was none shortly for to telle, Thilke daye afore him myght dwelle. So cruelly he gan them for to chace. For where he came or rode in any place, They fledde his sworde of their lyfe in doubte His yonge knightes ridinge him aboute, Suche as he was vsaunt for to lede, And euer in one the grekes bloud the shede. Whiche lyke a streame disteined al the playne And all this whyle was so huge a rayne, The same day and so huge a myste, That euery man hath his felowe myste. Specially vpon the grekes syde, That for the storme and their woundes wide And for the manhode of this Troian knight. ¶Worthy Troilus so freshe, so yonge, & light They were coact through his cruelte. Maugre their might for dred of death to fle, To their tentes succour for to fynde, Troyans aye pursuynge behynde, Iull mortally wish a sterne pase, But for the storme they cease of the case, And home repayre to their Eitie stronge, Tyll on the morowe that the larke songe,

That Troylus efte most manly to battayle, The grekes newe caste hym for to assayle. ¶And Guydo wryt this yonge champyowne Thylke daye as he rode vp and downe, Amonge his foen through his hygh renowne that there ne was king duke erle nor barown, With his sworde where so that he wende, That of their lyfe he made a mortall ende, All the whyle that Phebus gaue his lyght. Tyll at the laste that it drewe to nyght, That he to Troye repayreth manfully. ¶And seuen dayes suynge by and by, This lyfe he ledde with his knyghtes felle, Vpon grekes as Guydo can you telle. Aye newe and new he gan them so confounde His cruell sworde was so kene grounde, That they ne myght in his mortall tene, Afore his syght abyde nor sustene. Nor the vengeaunce that he on them toke, For where he rode the weye they forsoke, In his trase the renges were so redde. Of them in soth that in the fielde lay dead. For whiche slaughte and confusyowne, The grekes new sent to the towne, ¶For a trewse to Pryamus the kyng. And he anone graunted their axynge, For two monthes fully by the assent, Of all the lordes of his parlement. Wherof they made full relacion. ¶The enbassadours to Agamenon, And to their lodgyng after forth they wente. ¶But how that he vnto Achylles sente, The meane whyle his messangers wyse, So as I can I shall anone deuyse.

AGamenon as Guydo lyste endyte, His lordes sent Achylles to vysyte, For certayne causes lyke as ye shall here. Whiche in the storye be rehersed here. And with Vlixes and worthy Diomede, ¶Duke Nestor wente playnely as I reade, To fyne onely by their counsellyng, Into his herte that they myght brynge, And endure hym to haue a fantasye, To be wyllynge thorugh his chyualrye, With them to stande as he hath do toforne. That haue so many of Troye men ylorne. For lacke onely of his hygh presence. ¶And Achylles with dygne reuerence, Receyued them and with right knightly chere And after that whan they were set yfeare, Lyke theyr degree anone in aduenture, ¶Whyle Vlixes full of eloquence, Gan his tale prudently deuyse. ¶To Achylles saying in this wise. ¶Syr Achylles moste renowned of glorye, Throughout the worlde to be in memorye. And of his knyghthode very shoures and wel Displease it not now that I shall tell, To your noble famous excellence, Nor to your eares let be none offence, That I shall say but of goodlyhead, Pacyently that ye wyll take hede, To my wordes sayd of herte and thought, I you ensure for I fayne noughte. This to saye yf ye remembre wel. The fyrst cause and purpose euery dell, Of the grekes yf ye haue mencyon, Was fully sette by one entencyon, As well of you as of vs pardye. Whan we come fyrst to this citye. Kynges prynces I except none. Of whiche in soth to recken euerychone, Your selfe was to speake in speciall, One of the fyrst and moste pryncypall. Assented full how Troye the Cite, Through our manhode destroyed shulde be. Perpetually brought vnto ruyne. But nowe of newe I note what doth enclyne Your worthynesse sodeynly to varye. And to our purpose for to be contrarye. ¶Consyder fyrst of you that be so sage, The wronges done and the great damage, In grekes lande of them of the towne. Conspyryng aye to our destructiowne. If ye aduerte wysely in your thought, That slayne haue and to an ende brought, Full many worthy syth gone full yore, And of treasour that no man may restore. Dispoyled vs and brought in great distresse. Our goodes raught our golde & our rychesse▪ Our shyppes brent through their cruelte. And to all this alas ye lyste not se. Now that they be whiche may not be delayed Through your manhode fynally outtrayed, Sith ye haue slaine their hope their suffisaūce ¶Hector in whom was all their affyaunce. Fully their truste and diffence also.

¶And Deyphobus also is a go, And lykely are more to be apeyred, Fro day to day and fynally dispeyred. So frowardly fortune on them loureth. And now your honour & your fame flouteth, In his worshyp and your high renowne, Atteyned hath the exaltaciowne. And hyghest prycke of fortunes whele, It were great wronge and ye loke wele. Of wylfulnes for to be vnkynde. To her that ye so frendly to you fynde. Or to be frowarde whyle she is benynge, By influence graciously to assygne. Her spoukes meue vnto your pleasaunce, And hap to tourne w^t plente on your chaunce After whose helpe you nedeth not to calle. ¶Wherfore alas why wyll ye suffer palle, Your noble fame of very wylfulnesse, Whyle it is hyest in his worthynesse, Your knyghtly prudence it shulde not asterte. Of whiche thynge euery gentyll herte, Shulde haue routhe and compassyon. Wherfore we praye of ••iscrecyon, That ye you shape this purpose to amende, And that ye wolde of herte condiscende, With vs to stonde knyghtly in this werre, By your manhode that is spoke of so ferre. That your renowne to the worlde ende. Reported be where so that men wende, Perpetually by freshenesse of hewe, Day by day to encrease newe, That the tryumphe of this hygh victorye, Be put in storye and eke in memorye. And so enprynted that foryetfulnesse, No power haue by malys to oppresse. Your fame in knyghthode derke or difface, That shyneth yet so clere in many place, Without Eclypsyng sothly this no lesse. Whiche to conserne ye be now reckelesse. Of wylfulnesse to cloude so the lyght, Of your renowne y^e whylom shone so bryght. Your myghty hande of manhode to w^tdrawe. Consyder fyrst how grekes are yslawe, Tofore your tent w^t mortal woundes wyde, Through out the fyelde vpon euery syde. And haue disdayne onely for lacke of routhe. Alas the whyle for a lyttle slouthe, To ley to honde in their mischyefe at all. That whylom were their strōge mighty wall Their chiefe diffence and their champiowne Souerayne helpe and protectiowne. For whom ye haue so ofte shedde your bloud, Agayne their foen with them whan he stode, Full myghtely their enmyes to assayle, Without whom they lyttell may auayle. In very soth ne none of vs echone. But ye of knyghthode lyste with vs to gone, Agayne Troyans as ye were wont to do. And is our trust and fynall hope also. That ye shall helpe and our socour be. ¶And hereupon we praye you that ye, Saye your aduyce and your full wyll. ¶And than anone the hardy fyerse Achylle, Whan Vlixes concluded had his tale, Sith a face for anger dead and pale, Sayde euen thus all openly and playne. Sir Vlixes if so ryght as ye sayne, And haue declared in conclusyon. That our purpose and entensyon, Was fynally to brenne and destroye, This royall citie that is called Troye. I holde in soth me lyketh not to lye, That our entent was grounded on folye, To put vs all through indiscrecion, Of reckleshede and hasty mocyon, Of lyfe and death in suche ieopardye. And specyally in all the Chiualrye, Of grekes lande for so smale a thynge. So many prynce and so many worthy kyng, That haue ieoparted their body & their good, Yloste their lyfe and yspent their bloud, Which might haue be ful well at home ī peace ¶And is not nowe the kyng Pallamydes, Yslawe also as who sayth but of newe, That was so wise, so manly, and so trewe, Of whom the lyfe was of more pryce alone, Than the cause for whiche that we echone, Be gathered here who so loke a ryght. And of grekes many a noble knyght, That haue be slayne both of the worthyest, The worlde to seke and the manlyest. For out of euery lande and regyowne, On grekes partye and with them of y^e towne Of chyualry & knighthod y^e soueraine floure, To wynne in arme worshippe and honour, Assembled be and come fro so ferre. Of whiche in soth by duresse of this werre. Full many one in the fyelde is dead.

And veryly without any drede. There shall well mo if the werre laste, Fro euery day the numbre lasseth faste, Of worthy knyghtes dede without routh, That I dare saye and conclude of trouth, In this rage furyous and wood, Full lykely is that all the gentyl bloude, Through out this worlde shall destroyed be. And rural folke and that were great pyty. Shall haue lordshyp and hooly gouernaunce And Churles eke with sorowe & mischaunce, In euery londe shall lordes be alone. Whan gentyll men slayne be echone. ¶Is not Hector that was so noble a knight, That was this worldes very sonne and light Of manhode floure slayne pyteously. In this werte in soth and so myghty I. Parauenture whiche may not attayne, To his noblesse if I shall not fayne. For by what way shall we the death eschewe. With all our myght if we it pursewe, Fro day to daye whyle that we lye here. Therfore shortely me for to requere, Touchynge the werre outher for to praye. Is but in veyne and herken what I saye. I wyll not purpose in this werre or stryfe, For to ieoparte any more my lyfe. For leuer I haue that Palled be my name, Than for to be slayne and haue an ydle fame For worthinesse after death yblowe, Is but a wynde and lasteth but a throwe. For though renowne and prise be blowe wide Foryetfulnesse leyth it ofte asyde. By length of yeres and oblyuion, Through enuye and false conclusyon. The lande of knyghthode and of worthynesse Of wysedome eke and of gentylnesse. Fredam, bounte, vertue and suche grace, Foryetfulnesse can darke and defface, And therwithall males and enuye. Ysered hath the palme of Chyualrye. By false reporte wherfore I saye for me, I wyll of wysedome suche folye let be, And in quyet forth my lyfe nowe lede. ¶And ouer this to you three I rede, To seke peace with Troyans if ye may, In hasty wyse without more delaye. This my counsayle platly to you all, Or that myschyefe of death vpon you fall. It were well done that ye toke hede, ¶Both Vlixes and thou Dyomede. ¶And Nestor eke sythen ye be wyse, To worke playnely lyke as I deuyse. This the summe and fyne of myne entent, And so reporteth to hym that hath you sent. And they anone with shorte conclusyon, ¶Repeyred be to Agamenon, With such answere as ye haue herde me seine It nedeth not to wryte it newe againe. ¶And herevpon kynge Agamenon, Let make anone a conuocasyon. Of his lordes and in their presence, Fro poynt to poynt sothly in sentence. He hath rehersed how that Achylles, Was desyrous for to haue a peace, With them of Troye and platly how that he, For no prayer wyll in no degree, Agayne Troians with spere nor with shelde, In helpe of grekes be armed in the felde. Wherfore the kynge as he that was ful wise, Hereupon axed their deuyse, And whan them thought what best for to do, In this matter syth it stode so. ¶And fyrste of all speaketh Menelay, With angry chere and sayde platly nay. To haue a peace it was not his entent. Ne that he wolde therto be of assent. Sythen the Cyte in conclusion, Stode on the prycke of his distruction.

NOw that Hector & Deiphob{us} were dead y^t whylom were their trust in euery nede, And their diffence but now they are ago. Farewell their truste and their hope also, Without more and all their hole pryde. They maye not now but after death abyde. ¶And truste well without any lesse, Though it so be that this Achylles, Ne helpe vs not towarde our empryse, We therof not drede in no maner wyse, Without hym for to haue victorye, By our manhode and our owne glorye, I am full sure therof and certayne. But Vlixes gan replye agayne. Nestor also of sodayne mocyon, Contrayre was to his opynyon. Affyrmynge playnely that no wonder was, Though Menelay sothly in this case.

Vnto the peace wolde not assent, For openly they wyste what he ment, For he was ground and roote of al the werre And cause also they come were so ferre, Out of their lande he and the quene Heleyne. ¶And for the sake onely of them tweyne. The grekes all whiche no man may denye. Their lyues put in suche ieopardye, For hym and her if the grounde be soughte, For well they wyste that he rought nought, This Menelay what wo they endure, So he his wyfe myght agayne recure. ¶And where he sayth that Hector is dead. He hath an heyre to speake of manlyhead, And of knyghthode as it wyll be founde, And called is Hector the seconde. ¶Worthy Troylus whiche y^t is his brother, In all this worlde is not suche an other, Of worthynesse for to recken all, For he of Troye is the myghty wall. ¶And diffence now Hector is a gone, Ye knowe it well your selfe euerychone. If it so be that ye lyste take hede, Whose sharpe sworde sore doth vs blede, Euery day in his furyous hete, Amyd the fyelde whan we with hym mete, And in stede of worthy Deiphobus, Whiche in his tyme was wonderly famous. ¶His brother Parys is nowe founde at all, In worthynesse of knyghthode perygall. So that of them we haue none auauntage. Vnto this houre but rather great damage. To recken all syth we be gonne, This very soth we but lyttle wonne, But we are lykely alwaye more to lese, If we contune but syth we may chese. It were holsome to lyue in quyet. To haue a peace and this werre lete, By one assent syth ye be wyse.

ANd with y^t worde Calchas gan to ryse, The Troyan treytour w^t a pale chere, For very Ire and sayde as ye shall here. ¶A worthy prynces what thynke ye to done, To chaunge so lyke as doth the moone. Your olde purpose and your fyrst entent, Agayne the wyll and commaundement, Of the godder that euery thynge gouerne, By purueyaunce who so can discerne. Alas alss why ne wyll ye at the leste. Credence and fayth geue to theyr heste. Whiche in no wyse may not be fallyble. For in soth it were an impossyble. Vtterly but Troye the citye, Of ordynaunce and necessytye, Myght be destroyed hense but alyte. If your slouth be it not to wyte, So that victorye worshyp and honour, And fynall palme eke of this labour, To be reported on water and on lande, Reserued be hooly to your hande. In your purpose yf ye forth contune. And hynder not of foly your fortune. This in soth I dare it well conclude. And peryllous is the goddes to yllude. Of neclygence or slouth wylfully. Wherfore I read that now manfully, Of herte and thought and of full vnyte. Platly deuoydyng ambyguyte, To set vpon and knyghtly to resume, Your force agayne fully to consume, Your cruell foen and let be shet without, Wanhope and drede dispeyre & euery doubte, Castyng of parrell slouth and cowardyse. And let manhode vtterly dispyse, All dread of death that causeth hertes feynt. With cowardyse and to be atteynt. That fynally as goddes haue be hyght, Through prescyence of their eternall might, To victorye that ye shall attayne, Lyke your desyre there is no more to sayne. ¶And whan Calchas in conclusyowne, This false treytour vnto Troye towne, The grekes had through his wordes fayre, Touchynge the werre put out of dyspayre. Of herte all one they caste them to fulfyll, Hooly his counsayle though so that Achylle, Be frowarde aye to helpe them in their nede, They gaue no force nor toke of it no hede, But euerychone they them redy make, As ye shall here the fielde in haste to take,

THe trewes passed of y^e monthes twayne, Into y^e felde Grek{is} gan theim ordayne, And they of Troye agayne theim yssue oute, ¶And worthy Troylus with an huge route, The Grekes gan alderfirste assayle. And with his swerde he made for to rayle,

The red bloud through their harneys bright. That as the death they fled fro his syght. For he that daye thrugh his cruelte, Caste him platly auenged for to be, Vpon the death of Hector vtterly. ¶And as Dares wryteth specyally. A M. knightes this Troyan champyowne, That day hath slayne rydyng vp and downe. ¶As myne auctour Guydo lyst endyte, Saue after hym I can no ferther wryte. In his boke he geueth him suche a name, That by his manhode and his knyghtly fame The grekes all were dryuen vnto flyght, By all that daye tyll it drewe to nyght. ¶And on the morowe in the dawnynge, The grekes haue at Phebus vprysynge. Yarmed them with great dylygence, Agayne Troyans to standen at diffence. Amonges whome that daye as I rede, ¶So well hym bare worthy Dyomede, That many Troyan through his cruelte, ¶Hath loste his lyfe. tyll Troylus gan to se, This Dyomede in the fyelde rydynge, To whom anone without more lettynge, With his spere throwen into the reste, This Troylus rode & smote hym on the brest So myghtely that of very nede, Downe of his horse he smote this Dyomede. Albe of wounde he tho had no domage. And furyously Troylus in his rage, Of hygh enuye gan him to abrayde, Whan he was down y^e loue of faire Creseide. Of his deceyte and false Trecherye, And grekes than faste gan them hye, Amonge the horse in mischiefe whiche he lay, To drawe him out in all the hast y^t they may, And on a shelde brosed and affrayde, They bare hym home so he was dysmayde, Of the stroke home vnto his tent. ¶And Menelay the same whyle hath hente, A myghty spere tauenge this Dyomede, And towardes Troylus fast gan him spede, Fully auysed to hym vnhorse anone. But Troylus fyrste made his stede gone, So swyfte a course towardes Menelay, That he anone at the earth laye. So myghtely ye hyt hym with his spere. That shelde nor plate might his body were, That he ne had there a mortall wounde. But his knightes anone as they hym founde, Out of the prese when they had him rent, They bare hym home to his owne tent. The grekes aye standyng in distresse, Through the knighthode and y^e hye prowesse, Of this Troilus whiche so hath them belaine On euery part where he rode on the plaine. ¶Tyll vnto tyme that Agamenowne, Into the fyelde is a valed downe. With many worthy about his banere, That shone full shene agayne the sonne clere. And w^t his knight{is} hym rydyng enuyrowne, He sore enchased them of Troye towne, Woundeth & sleeth and put theim to y^e flyght, Hym selfe acquytynge lyke a manly knyght. But for all that without more abode, Amonge Troyans fyersly as he rode, ¶This worthy kyng great Agamenowne. Troylus with a spere hath smytten downe, Maugre his grekes there gameth no socour, And whan they sawe their lorde & gouernour In suche myschyefe at the grounde lyende, They hente hym vp and made hym to assende Through their manhode on his stronge stede And he of wyt gan to taken hede. And consydered wisely in his thought, In what disioynt Troilus had them brought And how his grekes for all their great pryde, Tofore his swerde myght not abyde, He prudently of hygh discrecyon, ¶This noble knyght this kyng Agomenon, As he that hadde aye his aduertence, On gouernaunce through his prouydence, Whan he sawe his grekes gan to fayle, And wexe feble to standen in battayle, For lacke of stuffe that shulde them recomfort Full prudently he made them to resorte, Eueryche of them to his owne tent. ¶And after that he hath to Pryam sent, For a trewse to Troye the Cyte, For syxe monthes if it myghte be, And by his counsayle Pryamus the kynge, Without abode graunted his axynge. Albe that some as Guydo lyste endyte, Were euyll apayde so longe to respyte, Their mortall foen in any maner wyse. But yet his graunt as ye haue harde deuyse, Stode in his strength fully as I read, ¶In whiche tyme of very womanhead,

Creseyde lyste no longer for to tarye, Though her father were therto contrarye, For to vysyte and to haue a syght, ¶Of Dyomede that was become her knyght ¶Which had of Troilus late caught a woūd And in his tent when she hath hym founde, Benygnely vpon his beddes syde, She set her downe in the selfe tyde, And platly caste in her owne thought, ¶Touchynge Troylus y^t it was for nought, To lyue in hope of any more recure, And thought she wolde for nothing be vnsure Of purueyaunce nor without store, She gaue anone without any more, Hooly her herte vnto this Dyomede. Lo what pytye is in womanhead. What mercy eke and benynge routhe, That newly can all her olde trouthe, Of nature lette slyppe and ouer slyde. Rather then they lysten so abyde, Any man in myschiefe for their sake, The chaunge is not so redy for to make. In Lumbardstrete of crowne nor doket, All poyse is good be so the prent be set. Their letter of chaunge doth no man abyde, So that the wynde be redy and the tyde. Passage is aye who so lyste to pace, No man is loste that lyste seke for grace. Daunger is none but counterfeyte disdeyne, The sea is calme and from these rockes plain For mercyles neuer man ne deyde, That sought for grace record of her Creseide Whiche fynally hath gyuen all her herte, To Dyomede in relese of his smerte. And prayed hym to be right glad and lyght, And calleth him her owne man & her knyght. And hym behyghte rather then he deye, In euery thynge howe she wolde obeye, That were honest hym to do pleasaunce. For leuer she had chaunge and varyaunce, Were founde in her than lacke of pytye, As syttynge is to all Femynyte, Of nature not to be vengeable, For fayth nor othe but rather mercyable, Of mannes lyfe standynge in distresse. ¶Hereof no more for now I wyll me dresse, To tell forth in my translacyon, Ceriously how Agamenon, Durynge the trewse and the time of peace, Hym selfe wente vnto Achylles, Besechynge him some regarde to haue, Of his knyghthode Grekes for to saue. And his presence no more to withdrawe, To suffer them so mortally to be slawe, Of their enmyes Pompous and Elate. ¶But Achylles alway indurate, Ilyche newe both in herte and thought, From his purpose platly chaungeth nought, Fully enclyned for to haue a peace. ¶But for as moche as this Achylles, Of entyernesse and hyghe affection, So louyng was vnto Agamenon. He vnto hym graunted at the leste, A great parcell touchynge his requeste. This to saye that this Achylles. Graunteth to hym his Myrmydones. Full knyghtly men onely in his absence, With the grekes to maken resystence, In the fyelde agayne them of the towne. For whiche graunte kynge Agamenowne, And duke Nestor thanked hym of herte, But he alwaye conteynynge in his smerte, For the loue of fayre Pollycene, Ne knewe no gayne to his wounde sgrene, But dispeyred languysheth euer in one. And whan the trewse passed were and gone, Vpon a day the morowe full benynge, Achylles his knyghtes dyd assygne, The fylde to take with Agamenon, And as the story maketh mencion, He gaue to them bandes freshe of read, That men may knowe by their manlyhead, With whom they were withholde in specyall▪ And lyke a man deadly and mortall, Within his tent this Achylles abode, When they from him into the fyelde rode, Only for dole they shulden from him twinne. In his absence a werre to begynne. Maugre his wyll agayne them of the towne. ¶But forth they went with Agamenowe, Vpon Troyans sterne and full of pryde. And with them mette on the other syde, The manly knyghtes of the Troyan bloud. Whiche were on them so furyous and wood, That cruelly the grekes they oppresse. So that a backe for feare they gan thē dresse. They were on them so inly fell and kene. ¶Tyll that the myghty Duke of Athene,

Entred in the grekes to diffende. But vpon hym vnwarely or he wende. Came myghty Troylus lyke a wood Lyown And from his stede anone he bare him downe And after that he put hym so in prese, Tyll he hath mette with these Myrmydones, And of them slewe that daye full many one. And so fer in Troylus is ygone, That he grekes put vtterly to flyght. Through his knyghthod til it drewe to night & fro his swerde no raunsom might thē borow And Guydo wryte that on the next morowe, Full mortall was the slaught on outher syde. Amyd the fielde as they togyther ryde, Of manly knightes that wonder was to sene ¶And as they faught the kyng Phylymene, With helpe onely of Pollydamas, Taken hath the worthy kyng Thoas. And gan hym leade towarde Troye y^e towne But Myrmydones him to helpe came downe Wonder proudly and after gan to sewe, And through their myght Thoas they rescue And hym delyuer for they were so stronge. ¶But Troylus then hurtled them amonge, Furyously full lyke a champyowne, Now here now there cast & threwe thē downe Some he slewe and some he made blede, Tyll cruelly they slewe his myghty stede. On whiche he sat and yet neuerthelesse, He fought on foote agaynst Myrmydones, That cast had Troylus to haue take. ¶But Parys tho gan them so awake, With his brothern that about hym rode, That in the place where as Troylus stode, Vpon his fete but him selfe alone, Of Mirmydones they sleine haue many one That of knighthod through their mālyhead, They vnto hym brought an other stede. Amyd his foen and made hym to ascende. And he full knightly gan him selfe dyffende, ¶Be set with grekes in the felfe stounde, That neuer yet a better knyght was founde, They felte it well that tho were his foen. But than his brother called Margaryton, So as he fought puttyng hym selfe in prese, Was slayne alas amonge Myrmydones. The death of whom in a cruell yre. This Troylus with anger sette a fyer, Playnely purposeth tauenge if he may. And with his sworde began to make way. ¶And Parys aye fast by hym rydyng, With his brethern vpon hym awaytyng, Whiche all yfeare were so mercylesse, ¶And I fynde these Myrmydones, That of force and necessyte, They were compelled playnly for to flee, Troylus was on them so furyous. So vengeable eke and so dispyteous. That he them gaue many mortall wounde, And yet in soth that day they were founde, Noble knyghtes and quyt them wonder wele For they the crafte knewe euerydele, Longyng to armes of them as I reade. But for all that he made their sydes blede, Through the mayle and their plates shene, That they ne myght playnly him sustene, The sword of Troilus them chasing ouerall, Albe they kepte them close as any wall. Hole together and went not a sonder. But Troilus aye them chaseth here & yonder And seuered them mauger all their myght. Tyll into fielde with many worthy knyght, Came Menelay and kyng Agamenon, Vlyxes eke and cruell Thelamon. And Dyomede whiche of his woundes grene Recured was as sayth myne auctour clene. And on Troyans sodaynly they fall, With their wardes and their knyghtes all. And tho began the fyght to renewe, On euery halfe that with blouddy hewe, The plates bryght were of newe ysteyned. And they of Troy so manly haue thē peyned, Agayne there foen in this myghty stryfe, That many greke was berafte his lyfe. And where they were most myghty in bataile Troylus came in and gan them to assayle, On euery parte with many blouddy wounde. And by his knighthod gan them to confoūde, That aye they fledde so they were a ferde. The mortall strokes of his sharpe sworde, Their deadly foe and destruction. And this contynueth tyll kyng Thelamon, By his manhode whan that he behelde, The grekes made recure agayne the fyelde. And gan Troyans assayle wonder sore, And tho began the slaughter more and more, On eche syde. till Troylus newe agayne, The grekes hath so fyersly ouerlayne,

Myrmydones and them euerychone, Afore his sworde that he made them gone. To their tentes and the fyelde forsake. And with his hande that day he hath take, An hundred knightes that came in his weye. Through his prowesse & sent them into troye And euer in one gan so to enchace, ¶Myrmydones that they loste their place. ¶And to Achylles lying in his tent, They be repeyred forwounded and to rent. Their herneys broke both in plate and maile And of their nombre I fynde that they fayle, An hundred knyghtes slayne dead alas. That after were founde in Taas. Amyd the fyeld thrugh girt w^t many woūde. ¶Of Troylus sword Hector the secounde. Wherof Achylles when he had a syght, So heauy was all the nexte nyght, In his bedde walowynge to and fro, Deuoyde of slepe for constreynt of his wo, At his herte his wounde was so kene, What for his men and fayre Polycene. Wyttynge well if he dyd his payne, To be venged he shulde not attayne, In no wise vnto his desyre. And thus he brent in a double fyre, Of loue and yre that made him syghe sore. But for cause loue was the more, He was aferde agayne them of the towne, In his person to do offenciowne, ¶Leste Pryamus and Hecuba the quene, Offended were and namely Polycene, And thus he stode in a double weer, That at his herte satte him wonder nere, With many wonder dyuers fantasye, As haue louers that be in poynt to dye. Ryght euen so fareth this wofull man, For very wo that no rede ne can. So entryked that wende for to deye, Of his recure he knewe no better weye. And whyle he laye this in his throwes wyte, Lyke as Guydo playnly lyste endyte, That the story maketh mencyowne. That dayes seuen they of Troye towne, So encrese and augment of the sorowe, With the grekes metten on euery morowe. That thrugh y^e force of alder both their might On outher parte, was slayne many a knight. ¶And all this whyle laye this Achylles, Of grekes death ylyke reckeles. For loue onely and toke no maner hede, Who so were hole or mortally doth blede. Or who that plaineth with his wound{is} large Hym thought it was no parcell of his charge. So moche he hath on other thyng to thincke. That ofte he waketh whan he shulde wynke▪ Thoughtfull aye and ymagynatyfe, And very wery of his owne lyfe. ¶Tyll on a day kyng Agamenon, Seynge the death and destruction, On grekes halfe withouten remedye, To Troye sent by enbassadrye, For a trewse certayne dayes space. But he myght therof haue no grace, Lenger tyme platly to endure. Then for leyser of the sepulture, Of worthy knyghtes that were dead aforne. In the fyelde on outher party lorne. Whiche in the Taas full busyly they soughte, And after this plainly how they wrought, Durynge the syege with great vyolence, I shall descryuen with your pacyence.

¶Howe Achylles slewe the worthy Troylus vnknyghtly, & after trayled his body through the fyelde tyed to his horse. Cap. xxxi.

THe cruell force and mortall yre, Of martyrs myght alway set a fyre, With newe enuye gonne of olde hatrede. Brennyng in hertes hole as any glede, Atwyxe grekes and them of Troye cytye. Whiche lykely is not staunched for to be, Tyll deth consume with mortall darte, Full many worthy vpon outher parte. To execute alas by fynall fate, On eyther parte the enuious deadly hate, Whiche they ne myght by destyne remewe. For it was set, it nedely must insewe. And Attropos wyll suffer it none other, That maystresse is & guyder of the rother, Of deathes shyp. tyll all goth vnto wrake, And fortune gan tourne her face abake, Of highe disdayne fro Troye the cytye, As in this story shortly ye shall se. For whan the trewse that they had ytake, Were wered out they gan them redy make, The proude grekes and into fyelde they gone

Vpon a morowe whan Phebus bright shone Armed full shene eueryche at his deuyse. ¶And Menelay hath first met with Paris, That day in storye as I read. And eche of them smytte other of his stede. At whiche tyme Dan Pollydamas, ¶To Vlixes rode a sterne pase, And eche at other of cruell enmyte, With styffe swordes gan together flee. That nouther was of manhode for to wyte, And with a spere squared for to byte. ¶The myghty Duke called Meneste, Rode lyne ryght that all myght it se, To Anthenor the Troyan full of pryde. And from his sadell caste hym downe asyde. In his furye and his hatefull tene, And tho in haste come kyng Phylomene, Only in helpe of them of the towne, And gan assayle kyng Agamenowne, Through his knyghthode and his hardinesse That he hym had brought in great distresse, To vtter myschyefe and confusyon, ¶Ne had be only that kyng Thelamon, Full proudely came hym for to reskewe. And after sore gan for to pursewe, With a spere vpon Phelomene, And for his horse he layde hym on the grene, Maugre his force the story telleth thus. For he to hym was mortally yrous. And after that yonge Archylogus, A mortall course ran vnto Brumius, One of the sonnes of Pryamus the kynge, Yonge and delyuer and beste in lykyng. But he hym smytte with so great a myght, That he fell dead this freshe lusty knyght, The death of whom whā they of Troy espye, They made a shoute and pyteously gan crye, Of wofull routhe and his death complayne. Tyll the noyse gan vtterly attayne, To Troylus eares platly where he rode. And he no lenger after that abode, But to the place felly gan approche, And with his sworde for to sette a broche, Without routhe the grekes hatefull bloud, And mercyles all that hym withstode, He slewe that daye by cruell auenture. That greke was none y^t which might endure Tofore his sworde he gan them so oppresse. For of knyghthode and of hygh prowesse, He had them put vtterly to flyght, Ne had byn the manhode and the myght, ¶Of Myrmydones which al that longe day, By one assent vpon Troylus lay. Wherof he was full melancolyus. And of courage and manhode moste famous, He ne lyste no longer for to lette, But all attones vpon them he sette, And furyously gan amonge thē ryde, And some he smote euen through the syde, Through the body and some through y^e herte. And w^t his sworde thrugh doublet & the shert Through shelde & plate, and thrugh haberion He perccd hath and lyke a wood lyon, He slewe that day of them many one. That maugre them they fledde eueryche. With the grekes eueryche to his tent. ¶And they of Troy after them he went. Swyftly on horse tyll they haue them take. And such a slaught of grekes ther they make, That fynally there was a bette reskuse, But only death so passyngly confuse, The grekes were at myschyefe desolate, Troylus so narowe brought thē to chekmate That they coulde tho no better remedye, But hydously for to wayle and crye, To death forwounded with a grisely chere. ¶That Achylles whan he gan fyrst to here, The dredefull noyse and the wofull sowne, That caused was by reflectiowne, Of eyre agayne who so coulde it knowe, In rochys harde and in kauernes lowe, Lyke as it were one worde spoke of two, That men are wont to callen an Ecco. So confuse was the lamentaciowne, On grekes syde of whiche the deadly sowne, So pyteously to Achylles is ronne, Of them that lay agayne the hote sonne, With mortall woundes yeldyng vp the breth, With roumble & swowhe resownyng into deth Such a noyse grekes maden there. And what it ment Achylles dyd enquere. And what the cause was of their clamour, And they him tolde for lacke of socour, The grekes were eche in his tentorye, ¶Of Troylus slayne. so that the victorye, Goth fynally with them of Troye towne, For euermore in conclusyowne, So many greke slayne laye in his tent,

Gapynge vpwarde w^t his bloud yspent, Through the constreynt of his wounde smert ¶And whyle Achilles gan their case aduerte Full sodaynely there came to hym a man, The whiche his tale euen thus began. Alas quod he how may ye thus sustene, To se your men hereupon the grene, Afore your face slayne and lye deade. And lyste not ones for to take hede, But stande styll pensyfe in your tent. Vpon the poynt your selfe to be shent. In hasty houre yf ye here abyde. For fyfty thousande knyghtes here besyde, Redy armed in plates and in mayle, Caste them playnly you for to assayle, This no doubte vnarmed as ye stande. But ye of knyghthode manly take on hande, Them to resyste in this selfe place, And lyke a man to meten in the face. ¶For whiche anone in a cruell mode, This Achylles lyke as he were woode, Hath armed hym fomyng as a bore, Farewell his loue he sette of it no store. Of hasty hete his yre was so kene. ¶That he forgat fayre Pollycene, And her beaute y^t whylom made him smert. And in a rage vp anone he starte, And toke his stede as any Lyon wroth, Agayne Troyans and into fyelde he goth. Lyke a wolfe that is with hunger gnawe, Ryght so gan he agayne his foen to drawe. And where he rode without excepciowne, He woundeth sleeth killeth and bereth downe Now here now there in a lyttle throwe, That they of Troy gan his sworde to knowe Whiche was infecte of newe with their bloud For there was none as yet y^t him withstode, So mortally he gan aboute hym layne, The dead bodyes enlonge the playne, ¶Tyll casually Troylus gan espye, This Achylles as he caste an eye, And gan his horse with all his might & payne ¶But Achylles of hym was ware also, Smette his stede and made hym for to go, Towarde Troylus in the selfe tyde, And with full course as they together ryde, Full lyne ryght their speres sharpe whette, With suche a myght they haue together mette Of hyghe dysdayne there is no more to sayne That to the grounde they felle both tway•••• ¶But Achylles caught hath suche a wounde In his body depe and so profounde, That longe he lay myn auctour saith certain, Or he to helth restored was agayne. ¶And Troilus eke thrugh plates maile & al As wryte Guydo had a wounde small. Whiche vnto hym dyd no greunaunce. And thus that daye by contynuaunce, And dayes syxe suynge by and by, The proude grekes mette cruelly, Amyd the fyelde them of Troye towne. To great damage and confusyowne, Of outher partye playnely this no nay. For many worthy slayne was day by day. In their rancour and hertye hoote enuye, Albe Guydo doth not specyfye, None of theyr names playnely in this boke, As ye shall fynde yf ye lyste to loke.

ANd al this whyle for this sodeine thinge Pensyfe & tryste was Pryam{us} the kyng That Achylles tourned hath so clene, His luste awaye from yonge Pollycene. And for this chaunge so sodeyne and so newe Thought his behestes were not all trewe. ¶But on deceyte and on doublenesse. On fraude falsly and newe fangelnesse. On sleyghty treason an vncouert gyle, Or rage of loue that lasteth but a whyle. Was vtterly founde in his beheste. For lyke as a wynde that no man may areste Faceth a worde discordaunt fro the dede, Of whiche a wyse man take shall no hede. But lette passe as he were reckelesse. For albeit that this Achylles, Was whylom caught within loues snare, Hym lyste not nowe ones for to spare, Of hygh rancour his lady to offende. It was not lyke as they of Troye wende. Hecuba nouther yet Pollycene, And in an angre and gan her to abreyde, That she her truste so entyerly hath leyde. On Achylles that can so falsly mene. Wherfore full tryste was this Pollycene. That was enclyned with her eyen clere, By the counsayle of her mother dere, ¶To haue be wedded to Achylles. To fyne onely there shulde haue be a peace,

Atwene grekes and them of Troy towne, But all was false inconclusyowne. ¶In the fyne was the trouthe ysene, For whan Achylles of his woundes grene, Was fully cured by a certayne day, He gan compasse in all that euer he may, And ymagine in his enuyous herte, To be venged of his woundes smerte. Vpon Troylus thot stacke aye in his mynde. At auauntage if he myght hym fynde. To hym he bare so passyngly hatrede, In his herte brennynge as the glede. Whiche day nor nyght may in no degree, Fully be queynt tyll he auenged be, The hoote rancour gan so on hym gnawe. Auysed platly that he shall beslawe, Of his handes whan so that it be falle. And on a day to hym he gan calle, Myrmydones his knightes euerychone, Vpon a morowe whan the grekes gone, Tofore the towne in stele armed bryght, Agayne Troyans of purpose for to fyght. And they were come proudely into fielde, In opposyte with many ryche shelde. Newly depeynt with colours freshe & fyne, Vpon whiche full bryght gan to shyne, Fyry Titan golde tressed in his sphere, At his vpryste with his beames clere. Whan this felle enuyous Achylles, To his knightes called Myrmydones, ¶Vpon Troylus gan hym to complayne. Besechynge them for to do theyr payne, Agayne this Troylus in the fielde that daye. To catche hym at myschyefe if they may. And busyly to do their dylygence, On him to haue their full aduertence, By one assent where that he ryde. All other thynge for to sette asyde. And of nought elles for to take hede. Saufe fynally agayne hym to procede, If so they myght catche hym in a trappe. Within them selfe troylus for to clappe. To enclose and sette hym rounde abouie. In all wyse that he go not oute, And whan he were beset amonge them all, Not to siea him what euer that be fall. But through their myght manly him cōserue Tyll he hym selfe come and make hym sterue. With his sworde he and none other wyght. ¶Lo here a manhode for to preyse a ryght. Vengeaunce of deth of rancour and of pryde, Compassed treason knighthode layde asyde. Worthynesse by false enuye yslawe, Falshede a lofte trouthe a backe ydrawe. Alas in armes that it shulde befall. Of trecherye there the bytter galle, Shulde in this world in any knight be foūde That be to trouth of their order bounde. ¶Alas alas for now this Achylles, Conspyred hath with his Myrmydones. The death of one and y^t the worthyest wight, That euer was and eke the beste knyght. Alas for wo my herte I fele deade, For his sake this storye whan I rede. But whan fortune hath a thynge ordeyned, Though it be euer wayled and compleyned, There is no gayne nor no remedye, Though men on it galen aye and crye, I can no more touchynge this mattere, But wryte forth lyke as ye shall here. How Myrmydones haue their lord behyght, With all their power and their full myght, To fulfyll his commaundement. And into fielde with grekes they be went. ¶But Troylus fyrst in the opposyte, Without abode manly them to mete, He was ybrent with so feruent hete, Of hardynesse and of hyghe courage. Of worthynesse and of vasselage. That him ne lyste no longer to abyde, But with his folke in began to ryde, Amonge grekes this folke of hyghe renowne And w^t his sword he woūdeth & bereth downe Sleeth and kylleth vpon euery haiue, So mortally that there may no salue, Their sores sounde for there was but death, Where so he rode and yeldyng vp the breth, So furyously he gan them to enchase. And made them lese in a lyttell space, Their lande echone and afore him flee. In Troylus sworde there was suche cruelte. That maugre them he the fielde hath wonne The same tyme whan the bryght sonne, Hye in the southe at mydday marke shone. Euen at the houre when it drewe to noone. When Myrmydones gathred all in one, In compasse wyse rounde aboute hym gone. And furyously of one entenciowne,

They made a cercle about him enuyrowne. When they hym sawe of helpe desolate, But he of herte not dysconsolate. Vpon no syde through his manlyhead, Lyke a Lyon toke of theym no hede. But through his famous knyghtly excellēce, He as a Tygre standeth at diffence. And manfully gan them to encomber, And gan to lesse and dyscrease their nomber, And some he maymeth & woūdeth to y^e death, And some he made to yelden vp the breath. And some he layde to the earthe lowe, And some he made for to ouerthrowe, Wyth hys swerde of theyr bloud all wete. At great myschyefe vnder his horse fete. Vpon his stede sturdy as a wall. This worthy knyght this man most mercial Pleyeth his play amonge Myrmydones, Hym selfe god wot alone all helples. ¶But tho alas what might his force auayle When thre thousande knightes him assayle. On euery parte both in lengthe and brede, And cowardly fyrst they slewe his stede. With their speres sharpe & so square ygroūd. For whych alas he stante now on y^e grounde. Wythout reskuse refute or socoure, That was that daye of chyualrye the floure. But well awaye they haue him so beset, That from his head they smote his basenet. And brake his harueys as they hym assaile, And seuer of stele the myghty stronge mayle. He was dysarmed both necke and also heade, Alas the whyle & no wyght toke none hede. Of all his knyghtes longynge to the towne. And yet alway this Troyan champyowne, In knyghtly wyse naked as he was, ¶Hym selfe defendeth. tyll Achylles alas, Came rydynge in furyous and wood, And whā he sawe howe that Troylus stode, Of longe fyghtynge awhaped and a mate, And from his folkes alone disconsolate, Sole by hym at myschyefe pyteously, This Achylles wonder cruelly, Behynde vnwarely or that he toke hede, With his swerde smyteth of his heade. And cast it forthe of cruell cursed herte, And thought sure it should hym not asterte. To shewe his malice this wolfe vnmercyable Full vnknyghtly to be more vengeable. Vpon the body that dead laye and colde, Alas that euer it should of knyght be tolde, Wryte or rehersed to do so foule a deede, Or in a boke alas that men shall rede, Of any knyght a storye so horryble. Vnto the eares passyngly odyble. For this Achilles of crueltye alas, The dead corps toke out of the taas, And vengeably bonde it as I fynde, At the tayle of his horse behynde. And hatefully that euery wyght behelde, Drewe it him selfe endlonge the felde. Through the renges and the wardes all. But Oh alas that euer it should fall. A knyght to be in herte so cruell. Or of hatred so spytefull and so fell, To drawe a man after he were deade.

OH thou Homer for shame be now red, And y^e amase y^t holdest thy selfe so wyse, On Achylles to set suche great a pryse. In thy bokes for his chyualrye. Aboue echone that dost hym magnyfye. That was so sleyghty and so full of fraude, Why geuest thou him so hye a prayse & laude. ¶Certys Homer for all thy excellence, Of Rethoryke and sugred eloquence, Thy lusty songes and thy dytees swete, Thy hony mouth that doth wyth sugre flete, Yet in one thynge thou greatly art to blame., Causeles to gyue hym suche a name, With tytle suche of tryumphe and glorye, So passyngely to put in memorye, In thy bookes to saye and wryte so, that he thrugh knighthod slain hath Hectors two. First him y^t was lyke vnto none other, ¶And sith{is} Troilus y^t was his owne brother If thou arte meued of affection, Whych that thou hast to Grekes nacion, To preyse him so for thou caust endyte. Thou shouldest aye for any fauour wryte, The trouthe playnly and be indyfferent, And saye the sothe clerely of entente. ¶For when he slewe Hector in the felde, He was afore disarmed of his shelde. And busy eke in spoylynge of a kynge. For yf he had beware of his comynge. He had hym quyt through his chyualrye. His false deceyt and his trecherye,

That he ne had so lyghtly from him gone. ¶Also Troylus naked and alone, Amyd thre thousand closed and yshet, ¶When Achilles hath his head of smet, At his backe of full cruell herte. When he nothing his treason dyd aduerte. ¶Was that a dede of a manly knyght. To slee a man forweryed in the fyght, Faynt of trauayle all the longe daye, Amonge so many standynge at a baye, A kynges sonne and so hye borne, Naked the head his armure all to torne. Euen at the death on the selfe poynt, At great myschyefe and playnly out of ioynt, Of his lyfe standynge on the wrake. ¶When Achilles came falsly at the bake, Assaylynge hym when he was halfe deade, And lyke a cowarde smote of then his heade. That was tofore hurte and wounded sore. ¶Wherfor Homer ne praise him not therfore Let not his prease thy royall booke difface, But in all haste his renowne outrace. For here his name when I here it neuen, Veryly vp to the thirde heauen, As semeth me infecte is the eyre. The sowne therof so foule is and vnfayre. For if that he had vsed aduertence, Other the eye of his prouydence, Vnto knyghthod or his worthynesse. Other to manhode or to gentyllesse, Or to the renowne of his owne name, Or to the reporte of his knyghtly fame, In any wyse to haue taken hede, He hadde neuer done so foule a dede, So vengeably for to haue ydrawe, A kynges sonne after he was slawe. And namely hym that was so good a knight. Whyche in his tyme who so loke aryght, Passed Achylles I dare it well expresse. Both of manhode and of gentylnesse. But for all that he is nowe dead alas. ¶The death of whom when Pollydamas, And Parys eke fyrst gan espye, They fared in sothe as they woulden dye. And specyally wyth face dead and fade, ¶Parys alas suche inly sorowe made, For the constreynt of his deadly wo, When he sawe well that Troylus was ago, And that he shall in lyfe him neuer se. Suche sorowe also the Troyan Dan Enee, For hym hath made and many other mo, That all at ones they togyther go, The dead corps to recure if they maye. ¶But grekes were so fell on them that daye, That all theyr haste was vtterly in vayne. In any wyse the corps to get agayne. Tyll that Menon the noble worthy kynge, Whych loued Troylus ouer all thynge, Caught such routhe of affection, That he in haste fearser than a Lyon, On his death cast him to be wreake. And fyrst for Ire thus he gan to speake. To Achylles for all his hye treasowne, Oh thou Tratoure, Oh thou Scorpyowne, Oh thou Serpent full of Trecherye, Whych in dishonour of all chyualrye, Through false engyne hast this daye yslawe, The onely best that here hadde no felowe, When he was whylom in this worlde alyue. Alas alas who maye aryght deseryue, Thy venym hyd thy malice and vntrouthe. Wythout pyte or any knyghtly routhe. To drawe a knyght so gentyll and so good, A kynges sonne of so worthy bloud, Through out y^e feld at thy horse tale behynde, That euer after it shalbe in mynde, This cruell dede and vngentylnesse. ¶And wyth y^t word Menon gan him dresse, Towarde Achylles wythout more areste, And wyth a spere smet him in the brest, Enuyously of so great hatrede, That he vnneth kepte him on his stede, And Menon after pulled out a swerde, And cast hym manly to mete him in the berde, And rode to him fully deuoyde of dreade, And suche a wound he gaue him on the head, That maugre him in many mannes syght, To the earthe he made him to alyght. For all his pryde in a mortall traunce. And of that wound he felt such greuaunce, That at the death he laye an huge whyle, In a swowne the space of halfe a myle, Tyll Myrmydones assembled into one, With great laboure and hente him vp anone. Full deadly pale so he gan to blede, But for all that they set him on his stede, And at the last his hert he caught agayne, And smet his horse of hate and hye disdayne,

And towarde Menon fast gan him hye. But when that he his cominge gan espye, Full lyke a knyght lyst not to abyde, But hit his horse sharply in the syde, And mette Achilles proudly on the playne, And wyth theyr swordes they togither layne, And gan to hurtle on horse backe tho yfere, Wyth herte enuyous and despytous chere. ¶But kynge Menon was at auauntage, Of Achylles for all his wood rage, In poynt to abrought him to confusyowne, Tyll y^t the wardes of newe be comen downe. On other parte both of these and yonder, Whych sodaynly seuered them asonder. And as the story telleth playnly than, Began the slaughter of many manly man. For nother party the felde ne would leue, Of very pryde tyll it drewe to eue. That Phebus gan aswage of his hete, And gan to bathe in the wawes wete, His bryght beames of the Occyan. That fro the felde home goth euery man, To theyr lodginge and after seuen dayes, They faught yfere & made no more delayes. ¶Full mortall by cruell aduenture, Whyle Achylles full busy was to cure, His woundes grene and his sores sounde. And then he had a newe treason founde, To be venged vpon kynge Menon, For all his wytte he sette thervpon. And so this cruell enuyous Achilles, Ycharged hath his Myrmydones, Worthy Menon amonge theim to enbrace. If they hym founde of opportune in place. With all theyr might and theyr busy thought, From theyr handes that he escape nought. Tyll he hym selfe auenged on hym be. ¶And so befell as they Menon se, The nexte morowe lyke a manly knyght, Agayne the Grekes armed for to fyght, On Troye syde as he was wonte to do, Of auenture that daye yt fell so, That Achilles and this Menon mette, And eche of theim gan on other sette, On horse backe wyth full great emiye. When as so longe in theyr melancolye, Mine auctour wryt they togyther fyght, That eche made other of force to alyght. ¶And whan Menon stode vpon y^e grounde▪ Myrmydones wente aboute him rounde, As they were charged of the fyerse Achylle, When he alas wythout goddes wylle, Dysseuered was from his knyghtes all. And at myschyefe they vpon him fall, Destitute alone and helples, And in suche poynt slewe him Achylles. But in the story lyke as it is founde, This Menon fyrst gaue him such a wounde, Tofore his death in all this fell stryfe, That he dyspeyred was as of his lyfe, This Achylles for all his false treason. Take hede Homer and demeth in thy reason, The false fraude and the sleyghty gyle, The treason caste afore wyth many wyle, Of Achylles and iudge now a ryght, If euer he slewe any worthy knyght. But if yt were by preodycyon. Recorde I take of the kynge Menon. So that the tytle of his laude alas, Entriked is wyth fraude and with fallace. ¶That thou Homer mayst with no coloure, Though thou paynte with gold & w^t asoure, In thy wrytynge his venym not enclose, But as the thorne hyd vnder the rose, Whose malyce aye dareth by the roote, Though the floure aboue fayre and soote, That men the fraude vnder may not se, Of his treason ye get no more of me.

BVt I wyll tell how Grekes do that day, How Meneste and kynge Menelay, Dyomede and Thelamonyus, On Troyans were passyng despytous. For cruelly wyth theyr wardes all, In theyr myschyefe be vpon them fall, And made theim flee home vnto the towne, For whylom Troylus chyefe champyowne, Is deade alas and hath them nowe forsake. Of whom they haue the dead body take, The same daye with great difficulte, And dolefully they into the Cyte, Haue tho it brought crying oft alas, And for his death such a wo there was, That I trowe there is no man alyue, Whych could aryght halfe dele descriue, Theyr pyteous wo nor lamentacyowne,

Certeyse not Boys that hath suche renowne With drery wordes to be wepe and crye, ¶In complaynynge to Phylosophye, Throughe his boke accusynge aye fortune, That selde or nought can in one contune. She is so full of transmutaciowne. Oh stace of Thebes make no bost nor sowne Of drerynesse for to wryte at all, Nother of death nor festes funerall, Of makynge sorowe nor aduersyte, ¶Let be thy wepynge oh thou Nyobe, ¶Ye syster also of Ayeliager, That custome haue for to flee so fer. Fro yere to yere your brother to complayne. And thou that weptest out thine eyen twaine Oedippus kyng of Thebes the cyte, Thou wofull Myrrha and Calyxtone. That so well can in rage you bemene. And Dydo eke whylome of Cartage quene. Lette be your dole and your contrycyon. ¶And Phyllys eke for thy Dymophon. ¶And eke Cecho that newe dost begyn, To crye and wayle. and also thou Corynne, That whylom were in so great affray, For death onely of thy Popyngay. As in his boke telleth vs Ouyde. Let all this wo now be layde asyde, And make of it no comparisowne, Vnto the wo that was in Troye towne. For death onely of this worthy knyght, For loue of whom euery maner wyght, Hygh and lowe olde and yonge of age, Are falle of newe into suche a rage, That they ne coulde of their wo none ende. Whose salte teares wyll their eyen shende. So pyteous was the lamentaciowne, In euery strete throughout all the towne, Alas who coulde all their sorowes telle. ¶I trowe certeys Pluto depe in helle. For all his torment and his paynes kene, Nouther she Proserpyna his quene, Nother the wery wood Tycius, Iryon nor hungry Tantalus, Ne coulde not well for all their bytter peyne, So furyously wepen and complayne, As do troyans Troylus for thy sake. For who can nowe suche a sorowe make, ¶Or who can wepe as kyng Pryamus. Who wepeth now with face full pyteous, Or sorowe maketh. but Hecuba the quene, ¶Who wepeth now but fayre Pollycene, Who wepeth nowe but Parys and Heleyne, Who can now wepe into teares reyne, As Troyans do with deadly swole chere. It neded them no wepers for to hyer. They had ynough of their owne store. Alas for nowe they be for euermore, Of helpe all sole of comforte destytute. For who shall nowe be to them refute. ¶Nowe that Hector and also Deyphobus, And Troylus eke that was so vertuous, Be dead alas who shall their succour be. Or helpe sustene the werre of there Cyte, There is no more in conclusyon, But after death fully destruction. Of theyr towres and their walles stronge, In this matter what shulde I playne longe. It vayleth not alway so to morne, Wherfore I wyll now agayne retorne, To my matter and tell forth how the kyng, To grekes hath without more taryinge, For a trewse and a peace ysent. A certayne tyme by great auysement. Whyche graunted was of Agamenowne, And they ayene repeyred to the towne,

¶Howe Parys slewe Achylles, and Archy∣logus Duke Nestors sonne, in the Temple of Apollo. Cap. xxxii.

KYnge Pryamus dyd his busye cure, For to make a ryche sepulture, For Troylus corps full noble and royall. As sayth Guydo of stones and metall, And him enclosed of great affection, ¶And nighe besyde was the kyng Menon. Solempnely buryed and laide in graue. And after that day by day they haue, Lyke the custome of feste funerall, And other ryghtes ceremonyall, For them bothe with dewe obseruaunce, Seruyse done aye by contynuaunce, In their temple lyke as was the guyse. Whiche were to longe me for to deuyse. And tedyus eke to you for to dwell.

But I purpose ceriously to tell. Howe Hecuba as I can endyte, Her caste fully Achylles to requyte, His tirannye sothly yf she may. And vnto her she calleth on a day, Alexsaunder in full secrete wyse, And vnto hym as I shall you deuyse, With wepynge eyen and full heuy chere, Sayde euen thus as ye shall after here. ¶Parys quod she alas saue goddes wyll, Thou knowest well howe the fyerse Achylle, My sonnes hath slayne well nye euerychone, There is none lefte but thy selfe alone. He hath me made alas there is no gayne, Full cowardly of chyldren now baraine. Both of Hector and Troylus eke therto. Whiche were to me in euery trouble and wo, Fully comforte pleasaunce and solace. Wherfore I caste playnely to compase, By some engyne his death to ordayne. And lyke as he by treason dyd his payne, Trayterously with his sworde to smyte, Ryght so I thynke with treason him to quite. As syttynge is of ryght and equyte. And syth thou wotest platly how that he, Hath sette his herte and his loue clene, Vpon my doughter yonge Polycene, To fyne onely to haue her vnto wyue. For whiche I caste to hym sende blyue, For to come and treate of that mattere. ¶In the temple of Appollo here. In the temple moste chiefe of this Cyte. At whiche tyme my wyll is that thou be, Thy selfe armed there full pryuelye. With certayne knyghtes in thy companye, Armed also agayne the same daye. That in no wyse he ne scape maye, From your handes but that he be dead. As I haue saide and therfore take good hede Vnto this thynge with all my herte I praye. From poynt to poynt my byddyng to obeye. And he assenteth with all his hole herte, Behotynge her that he shulde not asterte, And with hym toke twenty and no mo, Of manly men that ryght well durste do. And in the temple by full good aduyse, ¶They were yhid by biddynge of Parys. Whyle Hecuba couert in her entente. Her messager to Achylles hath sent, As ye haue herde in conclusyowne. To come in haste vnto Troye towne. After the effecte whiche was of her myssage, Onely to treate of a maryage. And he in haste commeth at her sonde. As he that coulde nothyng vnderstonde. Her treason hyd nor playnly it aduerte. He was so hote marked in his herte, With loues bronde and his fyry glede, Of lyfe nor death that he toke no hede. But sette a syde wytte and all reason, To caste afore by good discrecion, What was to do with lokynge full prudent. For he in soth was with loue blent, Into Troye whan that he shulde gone. Lyke as it fareth of louers euerychone. Whan they haue caught in herte a fantasye, For no peryll though they shulden dye. They haue no myght nor power to beware. Tyll they vnwares be trapped in the snare, Their maladye is aye so furyous. ¶And thus Achylles and Anthylogus, Nestors sonne haue the waye nome, Towarde the towne and be togither come, Into temple as ye haue harde me telle. And Parys tho lyste no longer dwelle, But all vnwarely with his knyghtes all, On Achylles is at myschyefe fall, Eueryche of them with a sworde full bryght, And some bokes saye it was done by night, Whan his death longe afore desyred, ¶By Hecuba and Parys was conspyred. ¶But Achylles in this mortall case, Amonge them all naked as he was, Hent out a sworde in the selfe steuen, And lyke a knyght he slewe of them seuen. Of very force mauger all their myght. ¶But whan Parys therof had a syght. Thre dartes raught that were kene & square, And sodeynly are that he was ware, Full secretely hyd vnder the shade, Markynge at hym and no noyse made, Caste at hym euen as euer he can, That head and shafte through his body ran, And therwithall knyghtes not a fewe, With sharpe swordes gan vpon hym hewe, And lefte him not tyll he lay at grounde. ¶Full pale dead with many mortall wounde And ryghtfully of reason as it syt,

Thus was the fraude and the falshed quyt, ¶Of Achylles for his hygh treason. As deth for deth is skylfully guerdon, And egall mede without any fable, ¶To them that be mercyles vengeable, For thilke daye Guydo wryteth thus, That Achylles and Anthylogus. ¶Of Parys were in the temple slawe. And afterwarde the bodye was outdrawe, Of Achylle fro the holy boundes, And cruelly throwen vnto the houndes, To be deuoured in the brode streste. In canell rennynge of fylthy waters wete. Without pytye or any maner routhe, Lo here the ende of falshed and vntrouth. Lo here the fyne of suche trecherye, Of false deceyte compassed by enuye, Lo here the knotte and conclusyon, How god aye quytteth slaughter by treason. Lo here the guerdon and the fynall mede, Of them that so delyten in falshede. For euery thyng platly for to sayne, Lyke as it is his guerdon doth attayne. As ye may se of this Achilles, Whiche on a nyght in the temple les, His lyfe for he was aye customable, By fraude and treason for to be vengeable. ¶But it befell at request of Heleyne, That the bodyes of these ylke tweyne, Conserued were from the hungry rage, Of beste and foule gredy and ramage. And yet they lay amyddes of the cytye, Full openly that all men myght them se, To great gladnesse of them of the towne. ¶Into tyme that Agamenowne, To kyng Pryam sent his massageres, To haue license to fette them home on beares By graunt of whom they haue the corses take For whom grekes suche a sorowe make, That pytye was and routh for to here. And eueryche spake thus vnto his feare. Farewell our truste nowe Achylles is dede, Farewell our hope and hooly all our spede. Farewell our ioye and our chiefe diffence, That hadde in manhode so great excellence. Farewell alas our souerayne assuraunce, Farewell in knighthode all our suffysaunce. For now alas vnlykely is that we, Shall euer wynne or getten this Cite. To vs alas so frowarde is fortune, But that they myghten not contune, Alway in wo nor in payne endure, They caused to make a ryche Sepulture. To Achylles of stones precyous. ¶And an other to Anthylogus. What shulde I now any longer dwell, Ceryously the rytes for to telle, Of their buryinge nor what wo they make, Their wepynge all nor of their clothes blake. Nor how that some loure in their hode, And how some go with mylke and bloud, With dolefull herte and into fyre it shete. And how that other casten gummes swete, Amydde the great flaumes funerall. Nor of the playes called pallestrall. Nor of the wrastlynge that was at the wake, It were but vayne me to vndertake, To tellen all wherfore I will lette be. Fully in purpose lyke as ye shall se, To resorte as in conclusyon, To tellen how the great Agamenon, For his lordes in all the haste hath sent, And when they were assembled in his tent, Full prudently this kyng this manly man, With great aduyse thus he his tale began.

SYres quod he fortunes varyaunce, Her chere froward & double countenance, And sodeyne tourne of her false vysage, Your hertes hath put in suche arage, For the murdre to god and man odyble, ¶Of Achylles and the death horryble, By compassynge of Hecuba the quene. Now semeth me that it shall be sene. If any manhode in your hertes be. Or knightly force in aduersytye, For to endure by vertue of suffraunce. Tyll of his death ye taken may vengeaunce. And manly quyte this outragious offence. Whan time cometh to make full recompence. But syth that ye be manly and prudent, I wolde fyrst se the playne entent. In this matter of you that be so wyse. And hereupon what is your aduyse. By one assent and voyce in comune, Whether ye wyll the werre forth contune, And the syege ygonne vpon this towne, Tyll they be brought to destructiowne.

Or into grece now resorte agayne. For cause only that Achylles is slayne. That whilom was your strong champiowne Your distence and chiefe protectiowne. But fynally now that he is dead, Hereupon let se what is your reade. Saye openly and no longer tarye, ¶And some anone gonne for to varye, And to grutche castynge to and fro, Standynge in doute what were beste to do. ¶And some sayde on the tother syde, For lyfe or death they wolde an ende abyde. And some of them that of wytte were rude, For their partye gonnen to conclude, That they wolde efte home agayne retourne. And other sayd that they wyll soiourne, Styll at the syege happe what happe may. And thus they treate all the longe day, Euery man lyke his opynyon. Tyll at the laste in conclusyon, They be accorded fully into one, Fro the syege neuer for to gone, Vnto the tyme they haue of the towne, Through their knyghthode full possessyowne At their free wyll to spylle or elles to saue. Albe Achylles buryed was in graue. For the truste of euery worthy knyght, Was fynally as goddes haue behyght, That they in haste shall the towne possede. This was their hope fully deuoyde of drede. Vndispeyred in their opynyon. ¶And then anone Ayax Thelamon, A worthy knyght and famous of his hande, Amonge all tho that were of grekes londe, Sayde euen thus playnly in sentence. ¶Syres quod he that here be in presence, My counsayle is platly and my rede, Now it standeth so that Achylles is dead, For his sonne in all the haste to sende. Hyther to come for to se an ende, Of the syege and helpe vs in this nede. ¶Whiche nowe abyt with kynge Lycomede, His bysayle and named is Pirrus. And some hym call Neptolonyus. Ryght lusty freshe and by lykelynesse, Able to attayne to great worthynesse, As by reporte and the fame is kouthe. If he drawe hym to armes in his youth. ¶And sothfastly but yf bokes lye, As I haue redde and herde by prophecye, That fynally Troye the Cyte, Without hym shall neuer wonne be. Thus bokes saye that be of olde memorye. And howe grekes shall haue no victorye, Tyll he come this sonne of Achylles. Wherfore in haste and be not reckeles, Sende for hym that it be done anone. And they commende his counsaile euerichone And to his reade fully them assent, And by aduise full prudently they sente, In all the haste on this embassyat, The wyse kynge full famous of estate, I meane the prudent noble Menelay, And forth he goeth the selfe same day, And on his iourney gan hym faste spede. ¶Tyll that he came vnto Lycomede. The olde kynge as ye haue harde me telle, Where for a tyme I wyll lette him dwelle, ¶And to Grekes in the meane whyle, So as I can derecte againe my style.

¶Howe Parys and Thelamon Ayax, slewe eche other in the fylde. Cap. xxxiii.

THe tyme of yere when the shene sonne, In the Crabbe had his course yronne, To the hyghest of his ascencyon. Whiche called is the somer stacyon. Whan the vertue out of euery roote, Is drawen vp and the bawme soote, Into the croppe and the freshe floure, Most lusty is of hewe and of coloure. Tyll Phebus chare in his discencion, Out of the Crabbe towarde the Lyon, Holdeth his course in the fyrmament. I meane whan he is retrogradyent. And dryeth vp the moysture and the wete, Of herbe and floure with his feruent hete. And all that veer afore hym made grene, To white he tourneth with his beames shene Both sede and grayne by decoction, For naturally by dygestyon, That fyrst was rawe in fruites & in floures, And watry eke by plente of humoures, He dryeth vp and rypeth at the full, With his feruence that men may them pull. Eche in his kynde after the season, Fro yeare to yeare by reuolucyon.

On their braunches freshely as they sprede, Whan that Cheryes powbly be and rede. ¶First in Iune that seweth after Maye, Whan the hote mery somers daye, No dwery is but lyke a gyaunt longe. The same tyme grekes stoute and stronge, With rancour brent of their enuyous hete, Haue shapen them with their foen to mete, And bryght armed into fyelde they go, And they of Troye out of the towne also, And their wardes ordeyned euerychone, The fyelde haue take to meten with their foen And gan to assemble vpon outher syde. ¶But Thelamon of foly and of pryde, The same daye of hym as I reade, As he that had of his death no dread, Disarmed was for battayle of arest. Of mayle and plate bare vpon his brest, For of foly and surquedons outrage, Bare his heade and bare of his vysage. And bare also without basenet, And naked eke of vyser and palet. He rode all daye of nothynge tho aferde, Hauynge no weapon but a naked sworde, For wylfully he lefte at home his shelde, And his spere when he toke the fyelde. Full lyke a knight syttynge on his stede, ¶And after hym foloweth Dyomede. Lyke Mars hym selfe about hym his meyne, And faste by came the duke of Meneste, Kyng Vlixes and Agamenon.

ANd Pryamus w^t them of Troy towne, Toke eke the fyelde w^t a full heuy chere, For he was both feareful and in were, In great dispeyre and inly full of dreade, To yssue out syth Hector nowe was dede. ¶Worthy Troylus and also Deyphobus, For in hym selfe he demed playnely thus, That he was febled greatly of his myght, After their death with grekes for to fyght. But out he goth hap what hap maye, And Parys eke full knyghtly of array, ¶Kyng Phylomene and Pollydamas, ¶Worthy Esdre and with them Eneas. By one assent there is no more to saye. The same daye knightly to lyue or deye, In their diffence and vtterly ieoparte, As goddes lyste the felde that daye departe. And proudely fyrste the grek{is} they gan perce, And Parys tho with thē that were of Perce, Fell in a syde with the sonne shene. And his archers with arrowes square & kene The grekes gan a sondre to disseuere, For in the felde they myght not persenere, Onely for shot of the stronge archers. Of Perce londe and the Arbalasters. Whiche made them fle ryght of very nede. ¶Into tyme that proude Dyomede, Whan he of grekes sawe this sodeyne flyghte Them to releue lyke a manly knyght, Is come vpon felly in his tene, ¶And fyrste of all he sette on Phylomene. A worthy kynge that came on Troye syde, The whyche agayne gan at hym to ryde, That Dyomede hath but lyttell wonne. With swordes styffe as they togyther ronne, That to beholde it was a noble syght, How eche of them quyte hym lyke a knyght, As they togyther ran on horse backe. That no man coulde in nother se no lacke. But euer in one Troyans were so felle, Vpon grekes that they ne myght dwelle, To kepe their londe so they made them blede, Mauger the force of this Dyomede. The slaughter was so hydous and so stronge. That through y^e fielde the woful noyse ronge And mortall crye of wounded folke that laye. Slayne on the soyle endlonge the waye. ¶Tyll Meneste syttynge on his stede, The worthy duke gan to take hede, In what myschyefe grekes were beset, And hent anone a spere sharpe ywhet, Smyttynge his horse felly in the syde, And through to renges knightly he gan ryde And stynt not so furyous he was. ¶Tyll that he mette with Pollydamas, A Troyan knyght and a manly man, And vnwarely at hym as he ran, He hytte him so in many mannes fyghte, To the erthe that he made him to a lyght. And with a sworde at grounde whan he laye, He had him slayne the selfe same daye, In his rage and his cruell tene, Ne had be that kynge Phylomene, Had him reskewed in this auenture. Whiche so frendely for hym dyde his cure, Maugre the myght of this Menestee,

From his handes that he went free. All for hathed and be spreynt with bloude. And all this whyle Ayax proudely rode, Of surquedy and of wylfulnesse, Of foly rage and foule hardynesse, Naked his body heade and euerydele, Amyd his foen armed bryght in stele. And of Troyans suche a slaughter made, That they laye dead both in sonne and shade Throughout the felde where this Thelamon Amonge them rode woodder then Lyon. That Troian none might him tho withstāde While that he held his bloudy sworde in hand That wonder was naked as he rode, Without wounde that he so longe abode. ¶And as Guydo maketh rehersayle, And wryteth eke for a great meruayle, That he vnslayne might so longe contune. But whan a thynge is shapen of fortune, It myght be falle what euer thynge it be, In weale or wo ioye or aduersyte. Whan one shall dye or whan he shall escape. But she alas can alder fyrst by iape, And brynge a man vnwarely to myschaunce, Whan he beste weneth to haue assuraunce, In this ladye of transmutacyon. Lyke as it fell of worthy Thelamon, This same daye whiche of foly pryde, Amonge his foen gan so ferre to ryde, Ylyche freshe ryght as he began, ¶And slewe of Perce many a manly man. And of hym selfe toke no maner hede, His knightly herte so was deuoyde of drede, Tyll Parys sawe his great hardynesse, And howe that he his knight dyd oppresse, Enchasynge them so mortally and narowe, Without abode anone he toke an arowe, Extoxycat sharpe and venymous, And in this Ire fell and despyteous, And shot at hym in the selfe tyde, As sayth Guydo and smyt hym through y^e side That of that hurte there is no more to saye, He felte well that he must deye. ¶And whan he sawe none other remedye, For he rode supprysed with enuye, Thrughout y^e prese his sword aye in his hand Into tyme that he Parys fonde. ¶And vnto hym with a pale chere, He spake and sayd anone as ye shall here. ¶Parys quod he as this mortall wounde, Of thyne arrowe sharpe and square yground Hath fynally my lyfe put in dispeyre, Neuer into Grece to haue repeyre. Ryght so shall I by shorte conclusyowne, Awaye shape that into Troye towne, With thy lyfe thou entre shalte no more. At my herte the venym byt so sore, That other gayne is there none but death. ¶But yet tofore or I yelde vp the breth, Truste me ryght well there may be no socour That thou ne shalte be predecessour, And go afore depe downe into hell. There with Pluto eternally to dwell. So as of ryght it is necessarye, Thy time is set which thou maiest not tarye. And here my trouth for morgage of thy corse That in all hast I shall make deuorse, Atwyxe the and the quene Heleyne. And twynne a sonder eke the false cheyne, Whiche linked was by colour of wedlocke. And hath so longe be shet vnder locke. Only by fraude and false engyne also. ¶But nowe the knotte shalbe broke a two. With my ryght hande the trouth to darayne, For through the cause onely of you twayne, In this werre many worthy knyght, His lyfe hath loste and many an other wight On outher syde for your both sake. But of all this I shall an ende make. Of your loue and foule auoutrye. ¶For fynally Parys thou shalte dye, Of my handes as it is thy chaunce. And with y^e word his sword he gan enhaunce Aboue his heade and smote hym in the face, That he fell dead in the selfe place. For his heade he hath parted on twayne. And ryght forthwith there is no more to saine ¶Ayax alas of his mortall wounde, Fell dead also gruflynge vnto the grounde. Full pyteously and then they of Troye, Haue Parys take vp out of the weye, And bore hym home into theyr cyte. ¶But Dyomede and duke Menestee, With many greke rydynge enuyrowne, Sewed the chase euen to the towne. But for cause Tytan gan to lowe, Downe by the arke of his dayes bowe, For into west vnder the rowes redde,

And Hesperus gan his lyght to shede. This to saye or it drewe to nyght, The Grekes be repeyred home aryght, Eueryche of theim to his lodgynge place. To take theyr reste all that nyghtes space. ¶Saue as I reade that Agamenowne, The grekes made fast by the towne, To sette theyr tentes and pauylyons. Of very pryde fast by the wall, Habytacles and newe mansyons. And they of Troye dyspeyred ouer all, No refute could Grekes for to let. But of assent fast theyr gates shette. And all the nyght on the walles wake, And ouer this suche a wo they make, Through the Cyte that Parys was so dead, For fynally nowe they can no reade, But wepe and crye and sorowe euer in one.

NOwe al y^e sonnes of Priam{us} were gone. Fortune alas hath theim so appeyred, That of theyr lyfe they be nowe dyspeyred, Of all hope and of good welfare. Perpetually for to lyue in care. Vnto the death and that was faste bye. For nowe there is no maner remedye, Vpon no syde nor refute none at all, But theym to kepe close wythin the wall, That for to se it was a pyteous thynge. ¶And suche a wo maketh now the kynge, ¶For Parys death that for deadly smerte, Hym thought platly that his wofull herte, Recureles would brast and ryue a tweyne. And into teares he gan dystylle and reyne, As he would tho for very sorowe deye. ¶And of the quene alas what shall I seye, ¶Hecuba his owne mother deare, That crieth & wepeth with a woful cheare. ¶Of Pollycene that was so wo begone, And of his systren also euerychone, That haue theyr heir & theyr clothes torne, As yf they had theyr owne death ysworne, For drery wo and for pyteous peyne. ¶But for by all the fayre quene Heleyne, Wayleth cryeth with a deadly cheare, That her eyen whych whylom were so cleare, Forderked were with dolefull teares smerte. And to the corps sodaynly she sterte, And clypped yt in her armes twayne. And pyteously embrace it and restrayne, Lyke as she would with him dye anone. For styll she laye dombe as any stone, As marbyll colde her lymmes craumpishing, Redy at all towarde her buryinge. Tyll men by force from the corps her hent. And she her heyr and her chekes rente. As tho she had be fallen in a rage. That chaunged was alas in her vysage, Her natyfe coloure and her rody hewe, Whylom as freshe as any rose newe. Nowe is she lyke vnto ashes colde, And wyth her handes aye togyther folde, Her selfe she smote on her pale face. And euer amonge the corps she did embrace, In her swownes as she fell to grounde, Twenty tymes and wept full his wounde. Wyth wo she was awhaped and amate, Of all comforte alas disconsolate. In herte beynge inly desyrous, Through her rage passynge furyous, To dye attones with her owne knyght. For towarde death enclosed was her syght. As she that lyst to lyue nowe no more. ¶And as I trowe that neuer man before, No woman sawe fall in suche distresse. In suche disioynt of deadly heuynesse. Nor for no wo so pyteously yraue, Not Cleopatre goynge to her graue. Nor wofull Tesbe that fro the kaue sterte, Whan she her selfe smote vnto the herte. ¶Nor the faythfull trewe Orestylle, When that she sawe her lord agayne her will, ¶Marcus Prolancus vnto shyppe gone, And for his loue fell downe dead anone. ¶Nor the sorowe of trewe Iulia, ¶Nor the feruence of faythfull Porcia, Of whych the one fell dead sodaynly, For she sawe bloud spent so cruelly, On her lordes dredfull gardment. ¶And Portia so trewe in her entent, When that her lorde Brutus lost his lyfe, For bycause she myght haue no knyfe, Wyth rolys red slewe her selfe alas. Was not also in the selfe case, ¶Arthemysya quene of Tarse londe. Of Mausalus the graue whan she foude, Her owne knyght of whose bones smale, Full wofully and wyth a cheare pale,

She poudre made & dranke it euery morowe ¶But all the wo and the furyous sorowe, Of these echone yet may not atteyne, ¶Vnto the sorowe of the quene Heleyne. That fynally wyll her selfe fordo. For Parys sake whom she loued so. For after him she wyll not lyue a daye. But be awreke playnly yf she maye, Vpon her lyfe rather than dysseuere. And thus in wo aye she doth perseuere, In her herte Parys sat so depe. ¶Alas who sayth that women can not wepe Yes doubtles they haue it of nature. Though it so be that they no wo endure. Yet can they fayne and salte teares fynde, Plenty ynough of thryr owne kynde, And sorowles morne and compleyne. ¶I saye not this for the quene Heleyne, That was wyth wo wounded to the herte. That fro the death she wende not sterte, For deathes darte her herte made ryue, And yet she rose agayne fro death to lyue, Onely by grace for all her fell rage, For euery wo by processe must aswage. And ouer gone and wasted by myracle, For eche venym made is some Tryacle, And euery wo hath his remedye. ¶For though Heleyne as tho fayn wold dye, Her kynde ne would assent yet therto. So sodaynly to slea her selfe for wo. She was a woman no man shulde her wyte, Me lyste no more of her wo endyte. Lest vnto you that it were tedyous, To heren all her paynes furyous, Her cruell wo and lamentacion, Whych would meue to compassyon, In very sothe to wryte euerydele, Any herte though it were made of stele. ¶For kynge Pryam and the quene also, Had suche routhe of her pyteous wo, To se her wepe and furyously complayne, That they of her felte as much payne, ¶As they dyd almost for hym Parys. ¶Herof no more for Pryam by deuyse, After this rage and this mortall wo, Amyd the Temple sacred to Iuno, Ordayned hath with full busy cure, For the corps a ryche sepulture. And in all haste therin made it shette. That in sothenesse if I should not lette, To tell all the rytes and the gyse, That there were made in theyr paynim wise, And the costes of his buryinge, It should be all to longe a taryinge, Ceryously theron to abyde. Wherfore as nowe I let ouerslyde, Their paynim rites supersticious.

¶Howe Pantisilia quene of Amazonis com¦ming in ayde of the Troians, was slayne by Pyrrhus Achylles sonne. Ca. xxxiiii.

ANd telle I wyll how kyng Priamus, Cōmaūded hath of mischyefe & of nede, Through Troye towne onely of very drede, To shytte theyr gates strongly as they maye. And therupon both by nyght and daye, To kepe watche for shortly they of Troye, Dysconsolate of all theyr olde ioye, Can no refute but wepe and sorowe make. For they ne durst no more vndertake, Agayne Grekes into felde to gone. ¶Tyll on a daye kynge Agamenon, His messager by good auisement, To Pryamus into Troye hath sent, Requyrynge him of manhode lyke a knyghte, To yssue out wyth Grekes for to fyght. As he was wonte wyth his chyualrye. ¶But kynge Pryam his axinge gan denye. And shortly sayd to him that was sent, That he ne would at his assignement, Not ones passe the gates of the towne. But at his owne free electiowne, Whan euer him lyst without compellynge. ¶And yet in sothe cause of his taryinge, ¶Was for the hardy quene of Femynye, Towarde Troye that fast gan her hye. Out of her lande and lyttell regyon, The whych as bokes make mencion, After the scyte of the fyrmamente, Is in the plage of the Oryent. ¶And called is the reygne of Amazonis. Of which the custome and the vse is, That onely women therin shall abyde. And they were wonte armed for to ryde. And haue in armes great experyence. For theyr laboure and theyr dylygence, Is fynally to haue exercyse,

Fro daye to daye in Martes hygh seruyce. ¶And ouermore theyr custome and vsaunce, As to this daye is made remembraunce, Is that no man shall them nygh nere, But yf it be thre monthes in the yeare. ¶This to saye in Iune Apryll and Maye. And then the women haue in custome aye, Vnto an yle a lytell there besyde, Where as the men by them selfe abyde, Fro yere to yere togyther euerychone, Vnto the men out of theyr lande to gone. And there abyde in that regyon, Tyll tyme cometh of concepcion. Wythout taryinge any longer whyle. For then anone home vnto theyr ile, They be repeyred out of that countre. Vnto tyme that they delyuered be. And as fast as the chylde is borne, For lacke of kepynge that it be not lorne, He fostred is tyll thre yeres be agone, Amonge the women and then ryght anone. To the yle besyde adiacent, Vnto the men the chylde in haste is sent. If that it be of kynde masculyne, And yf it fall that it be femynyne, With the women abyde styll it shall. Tyll that it be in actes mercyall, Full well expert and that she can eke knowe, A spere to haddle or to drawe a bowe. Lyke the statutes of that regyon. The whych as bookes make mencyon, Is sette betwene Ewrope and Asya. ¶And of this lande was Pantasilia, Whylom lady and chyefe gouernesse. Full renowmed of strength and hardinesse. Thrugh out y^e worlde both in length & brede, And yet in sothe to speake of womanhead, For all her myght she had an huge pryse. For both she was vertuous and wyse. Wonder dyscrete and had an honest name, Notwythstandynge the excellence of fame, Of her renowne in armes and in glorye. For of conquest and of high victorye, She was most surmountynge out of drede, Of any woman that I can of rede. And sothely yet bookes bere wytnesse, Of womanhead and of gentylnesse, She kepte her so that nothynge her asterte, ¶The whych loued wyth all her hole herte, Worthy Hector and wyth all her myght, Onely for he was so good a knyght. All her ioye and worldly plesaunce, Her harty ease and soueraygne suffysaunce, In very sothe where she wake or wyncke, Was euer in one vpon him to thynke. Of very fayth wythout any slouthe, And vnto hym she was by bonde of trouthe, Confederate of olde affectiowne. That when she herde how that Troye towne Beseiged was of the Grekes fell, Thys hardy quene lyst no longer dwell, But hasteth her as fast as euer she maye, Towarde Troye infull good araye, With all the worthy women of her lande. Full well experte and preued of her hande. Well horsed eke and armed rychely, And as I fynde in her companye, A thousande maydens rydyng by her side, This worthy quene that durst well abyde, She wyth her brought in stele armed bryght. For loue of Hector her owne trewe knyght, And on her waye fast she gan her spede, To helpe hym yf she se cause of nede. For in nothynge she could her more delyte. Than towarde him her faythfully to quyte. For that was all her lust and hertes ioye, ¶But when that she come was to Troye, And hath hard tell as by relacyowne. That he was dead most worthy of renowne, To whom she was so louynge and so trewe, Anone she gan to chaunge cheare and hewe, And pyteously gan to wepe and crye, And fared in sothe as she would dye. For very wo and hertely heuynesse. And thought she would thrugh her wortthy∣nesse, Auenge his death platly if she maye. On the Grekes and so vpon a daye, ¶She prayeth Pryam w^t great affectiowne For to open the gates of the towne, And to go out with Grekes for to fyght. That they maye knowe and be expert aright Of this women the great worthynesse. And of this quene the famous hardynesse. And so the kynge hopynge for the beste, Without abode graunted her requeste. The next morowe whē Pheb{us} shone ful shene ¶And all tofore out goth Philomene, The noble kinge w^t them of Pafflagonye.

And after him other knightes manye, Folowed after with worthy Eneas. The Troyan eke Dan Pollidamas, And the quene Pantasilla, By the gate called Dardanica. Towarde Grekes proudly yssued oute, With her women rydynge her aboute. The whych anone when Grekes did espye, Into felde gan them fast hye.

ANd fyrste of all worthy Meneste, Pantasylla when that he dyd se, Wyth his sporres made his stede gone. And wyth a spere rode to her anone. ¶Of whom the quene astoned neuer a dele, Kaught a spere that was squared wele, Round y^e shafte and the head well grounde, Which as they coupe smet hī downe to groūd. And maugre hym reued him his stede. But then in haste in came Dyomede, And cruelly to the quene gan ryde, And she as fast on the other syde, Rode eke to him in plates bryght and shene, And as they met wyth theyr speres kene, She hytte so this fell Diomede, For all his myght and his manlyhead, That she him made his sadell for to lese. There is no more he myght tho not chese. And in despyte of his men echone, She hath his shelde him berafte anone. And it delyuereth proudly as she rode. To a mayde that vpon her abode. And lyke a Tygre in his gredynesse, Or lyke in sothe to a Lionesse, That daye she fared rydynge vp and downe, Amonge the Grekes till that Thelamowne, Gan to beholde the slaughter that she made, Of high despyte and rancour ouerlade, As he that myght for yre not sustene, Gan reyne his horse to fall vpon this quene. ¶But when that she his comynge dyd espye, She fell on him in her melancolye, So mortally maugre his knightes all, That to the grounde she made him for to fall And Grekes put in so great disraye, Where euer she rode all that ylke daye, That they ne might afore her not sustene. And through the helpe of kyng Philomene, As myn auctour recordeth in his boke. Amyd the felde Thelamon she toke. And sent him forth through her hie renowne, As prysoner towarde Troye towne. ¶Tyll vnto reskuse came he Dyomede, And cruelly on them that gan him lede, He fell vnwarely with an huge route, Of his knyghtes rydynge him aboute. And from theyr hādes maugre al their might He him delyuereth lyke a manly knyght. At whych tyme the hardy quene anone, With her women aboute her euerichone, The Grekes hath afore her on the playne, As wryt Guydo so mortally belayne, That she them made of necessytee, Out of the felde wyth her sworde to fle. That verely it semed incredible, And to leue a maner impossyble, To se the women Grekes so enchase, Which might not there abide afore their face, For in the felde in any wise stande. For they them dryue to the selfe stronde, Downe to the clyffe of the salte see. And slewe of them so huge and great plentee, That fynally they had all be dystroyed, For euermore and vtterly acloyed, ¶Ne had Dyomede stande tho at diffence. And of knighthod made theim resistence. For he that daye in partye and in all, For Grekes stode as a sturdy wall. And was alone their helpe and chefe succour ¶But for all that with worshyp and honour Pantasilla as made is memorye, Repeyred is with conquest and victorye, Wyth all her women into Troye towne. Vpon the houre of Phebus goyng downe. ¶And by the syde of this hardy quene, ¶Armed in stele rode kynge Phylomene. Whom Pryam hath wyth great reuerence, Knightly receyued and did his diligence, Theim to refreshe with euery maner thinge, That might be vnto theyr lykinge. And as theyr hertes could best deuyse. ¶And after this in ful goodly wyse, He thanked hath the noble hardy quene, Of her goodnesse that her lyst to sene, To helpe him in his great nede. And offred her in Guydo as I reade, All that he hath treasour and rychesse, Hopynge fully through her worthinesse,

Vpon Grekes auenged for to be, And for to kepe hym safe in his Cyte, Maugre Grekes whych of theim saye naye. ¶For as I reade after daye by daye, She slinte not proudly theim to assayle, Agayne whose swerde they myght not auayl, So mortally she made theyr sydes blede. ¶Tyll Menelay fro kinge Lycomede, Repeyred is with Neptolonyus, Which in his bokes called eke Pirrhus. Whylom the sonne of cruell Achillles, Whom for to se full huge was the prese, Of the Grekes goynge enuyron. ¶And for he was as by successyon, ¶Borne to be heyre of this Achilles, He hath receyued of Myrmydones, With great honour and great solempnyte. So glad were they theyr yonge lorde to se. To whom echone they made affiaunce, And were eke sworne by bonde & assuraunce, For lyfe or deathe to him to be trewe. And his lieges and chaunge for no newe. To obeye his lust in all maner thynge. ¶And after this Agamenon the kinge, Made him knight and Thelamonius, Wyth a swerde gyrte anone Pirrhus. Sayinge to him in the selfe place, With y^t baudrik when he hym did enbrace, ¶Take hede quod he mine owne cosin deare To resemble in manhode and in chere. In knighthod eke and in worthinesse, To thy father which in sothfastnesse, In his tyme was so noble a knight, And ouermore with all thy full might, To auenge his death that thou do thy payne ¶And thē of grekes worthy Dukes twayne. Full humbly began downe to knele, And set a sporre vpon eyther hele, As was the maner of golde bourned bryght. And in this whyle Pirrhus is made knighte. As ye haue herde in full high presence, With great honour and due reuerence, Lyke the custome of the Grekes layes. And the rytes vsed in tho dayes. And then anone hath kyng Agamenon, With full glad chere and great affection, Delyuered hym fully by sentence, The armes hole without difference, Which Achilles by his life bare, His worthy father on his shoulders square. As for nexte heyre of lyne by discente, And all his Treasour also and his Tente. Armure and all deliuered were anone. Vnto Pirrhus and Grekes euerychone, Eyght dayes suynge by and by, Through out the hoste full solempnely, They halowe in honour of this yong knyght▪ Til on a morow whē Pheb{us} shone ful bright Which with his lyght that shineth fro so fer, Diffaced hath the streames of the sterre, Lucifer the dayes messagere. When Grekes gan in plates bryght & clere, Enarmed them that daye soure and swete, Fulle in purpose wyth theyr fone to mete. And manfully out of theyr tentes wide, Agaynst Troyans they began to ride. Warde after warde proudly into felde. And Pirrhus bare that daye vpon his shelde, His fathers armes lyke as sayth Guydo, And of the same he had vpon also, A cote armure that became hym wele. And forth he rode armed bright in stele. And casually formest as he was, He mette fyrst wyth Pollydamas. A knyght of Troye a full manly man, ¶And furyously Pirrhus to him ran, On horsebacke with a myghty swerde, And gan to hurtle with him in the berde, So myghtely that in this hatefull stryfe, ¶Pollydamas had lost his lyfe, Ne had ben reskued without more taryinge, Of Phylomene the noble worthy kinge. Onely of knighthod and of worthynesse, ¶To whom Pirrhus hastely gan him dresse With his swerde and smit him in the syghte, That from his horse he made him to alighte. For he the stroke might not sustene. And sothfastly this worthy Phylomene, Of Pirrhus had ytake be anone, Saue his knightes assembled into one, Of Pafflagonye came him to reskue. But Pirrhus aye so fyersly gan pursewe, Vpon this king with Myrmydones, Beset in myschefe amonge the great prese, That many knight of this noble kynge, Yslayne was at his reskuynge. He stode of death in so streyght a case. ¶Tyl of fortune came Pollydamas,

To his reskuse and did his full myght, Him to delyuer and quyte him lyke a knight. But in sothenesse there was suche resystence, ¶Of Pirrhus knightes standing at diffence That aye in mischyef stode king Philomene. ¶Tyll Pantasilla of femenie the quene, With her women a great companye, Gan this thinge of auenture espye, Which were echone for the more delyte, On theyr armure that daye clad in white. That veryly there was no lylye floure, Nor snowe y^t flaketh frō Iubyters his towre Of whytenesse that is fresher on to sene, Then in felde was this hardy quene. Which firste of all amonge the Grekes chees, Proudly to fall on Myrmydones, Amonges them rydinge vp and downe, She thē vnhorseth through her hie renowne And slewe them vpon euery syde, Makinge theyr renges for to seuer wyde. Tyll Thelamon in a furyous heate, With a spere vnwarely did her mete, And in a rage smote her to the playne. But she anone ful lyfely rose agayne, ¶And w^t her swerd so marketh Thelamown That frō his horse she made him light downe Plat to the grounde on his handes twayne. And then her women did theyr busy payne, To make theyr quene her stede to recure. ¶And all this while stode in auenture, Of his life worthy Philomene, Pirrhus knightes were on him so kene. Maugre his men that they haue him take, It geyneth not diffence for to make. The Grekes haue so strongly him beset. ¶And forth they lad him it might be no bet, Toward theyr tentes throughout al the felde The which thinge when the quene behelde, With her women that aboute her rode, Pursewed after without more abode, That fynally they haue so after sewed, Through their force that he was reskued, Maugre the manhode of Myrmidones. ¶And Pantasilla was so mercyles, Vpon the Grekes that of necessyte, Through her force and her crueltee, Afore her swerde they durst not abyde, ¶But when Pirrhus sawe her great pryde, To his knightes loud he gan to crye, And sayde it was shame and villanye, For the women so to lese theyr lande. And to be slayne so felly of her hande. Wherfore echone your hertes doth resume, And of assent let vs nowe consume, The pryde of them that none awaye escape, For but if we some remedye do shape, This ylke daye theyr force to confounde, Shamefull reporte to vs shall rebounde, Perpetually where we slepe or wake. ¶And as Pirrhus gan his swerde to take. Furyously and wyth a knyghtly chere, This hardy quene happed for to heare, ¶All that Pirrhus to his knightes spake. All her lyst not ones to tourne bake, Nor of his thret for to take hede For platly she had of him no dreade. But right proudly gan to drawe nere, And to him sayde anone as ye shall heare. ¶Oh thou Pirrhe sonne of Achilles, That slewe Hector in knyghthod pereles, Through his trenys and his trecherye, By malice onely and by false enuye, Vnware when he nothinge did aduerte. The whych neuer maye out of my herte, So grene it sticketh in my remembraunce, Vpon his death for to do vengeaunce, And it syt well as semeth vnto me, That his death be venged vpon the, Fyrste of all and on thy fathers bloud, For loue of him so gentyll and so good, The deth of whom shuld al y^e world cōplayne Not onely men do theyr busy payne, To quyte his death but women eke also, With all theyr myght and helpe eke therto, As right requyreth without excepcion. There on to do full execution. And I nowe stande in the same plyte, And for thou hast vs wonnen in despite, Of our power shortly in sentence, Thou shalt in haste haue experyence. And knowe our force sothly euerydele, Right in shorte tyme truste me right wele, Here in this felde by shedynge of thy bloud. Wherfore Pirrhus weren gan as wood, As any Tygre bore or wood Lyon, So fret the coloure in his complexion, And in his Ire fell and despytous, He toke a spere pale and furyous,

And ran at her with al his myght and payne And agaynwarde as she that list not feyne, Encountred hym all deuoyde of feare. But Pirrhus fyrste brake on her his spere, Albe that he myght her not remeue. In her sadell nor but lyttel greue. But she agayne so sore gan him hytte, On his stede that he maye not sytte. But descendeth endlonge the playne. And vp he rose with full great disdayne, And toke a swerde in his hande anone, And made his stede lyne ryght to gone, Vpon this quene of passynge worthinesse. And inwardly of hate and of woodnesse, In herte yfret smet at her many stroke, But euer she sat styll as any oke, And of force in her yre pale, Efte agayne she made him to auale, To the earthe maugre all his payne. And thus the fyght lasteth of theym twayne, A large whyle till Myrmydones, Haue take theyr lorde by force out of y^e prese. And made him his horse recure agayne. ¶And in his tyme on the selfe playne, With his baner he descended downe, The worthy kinge great Agamenowne, With kinges dukes endlonge the grene. With theyr wardes that wonder was to sene, So prudently in the felde battayled, That hath Troians mortally assayled. ¶But tho in haste kynge Phylomene, As ye haue herde reskued by the quene, When he hath thanked to her worthinesse, With his knightes in he gan him dresse, ¶And Pantasilla assembled both in one, Vpon the Grekes gan for to gone. Where men may se w^t speres sharpe grounde Eueryche other beare vnto the grounde. There men maye se proudly without lacke, The manly knightes renne on horse backe. ¶And the women mortally oppresse, The fell Grekes through theyr hardynesse. Onely through force of the myghty quene. That dead they laye couerynge al the grene. ¶Wherwith came in Dan Pollydamas, Fro death reskued and eke Eneas, ¶Kinge Esdras eke of Troye the cyte, ¶And tho the wardes gan togyther fle, On eyther partye fell and furious, But most of all Neptolonius, That Pirrhus hight y^e grekes champiowne, Irous and wood on them of Troye towne, Made his swerde in theyr fleshe byte. ¶And Pantasilla proudly her to quyte, Ne spareth not wyth mortall woundes wide, Grekes to slee vpon euery syde. Now here now there to theyr confusyon. ¶And Pirrhus then is fall on Glawcon, The halfe brother to Pollydamas. For Anthenor eke his father was. And Pirrhus so in a cruell yre, With melancolye newe set a fyre, Smote Glawcon so or that he toke hede, Amonge the prease that he fell downe dead ¶And Pantasillya from her women all, ¶The same tyde is on Pirrhus fall. And he of her when he had a syghte, Rode eke agayne lyke a manly knyght, And as they hurtle on horse backe yfere, Of auenture with swerdes styffe and clere, Eueryche made other to alyghte, And hatefully on fote so they fyghte. Longe or other myght of other wynne, Tyll they were made of force for to twynne, By the wardes that wente them atwene, I meane Pirrhus and this hardy quene. ¶And all this tyme Dan Pollydamas, So wood for yre in his herte was, Amyd Grekes for his brothers deathe, That whom he mette for his loue he sleth. Without mercy in his hateful tene. That he alone and this worthy quene, Suche a slaughter on the Grekes make, That they the felde vtterty forsake, And gan to fle to theyr tentes downe. Tyll Dyomede and Ayax Thelamowne, And Pyrrhus eke made tourne agayne, But they in sothe were so ouerlayne, That they ne myght all that daye releue, And thus they faughte tyll it drewe to eue, To most domage of the Grekes syde. Tyll Phebus gan his bryght chayre hyde, Lowe in the west and to shroude his lyght, Vnder courtayne of the blacke nyght, That eyther parte thought for the best, To departe and drawe to theyr reste. And toke theyr ease that nyght as they may. And all the moneth suynge day by daye,

Without any interrupcion, They fought yfere albe no mencion. Be made therof nor wryte in specyall, Of no person but in generall, Who that euer dyd euyll or well, In Troye boke I fynde neuer a dele. Saue the quene lyke as wryt Guydo, Of her women an hundred hath forgo, That slayne were thylke moneth daye, The death of whom playnly if she maye, Shall well be quyt if so that fortune, Be fauorable frendly to contune, That her face chaunge not contrarye. But she that can euery daye so varye, Alas the whyle and selde in one soiourne, Gan fro this quene her loke awaye to tourne To enhaste through her vngoodlyhead, Attropose to breake her lyues threde, As the storye playnly shall you lere, Beningly if ye lyst to heare.

THe fatall houre harde for to remewe, Of cruel deth which no mā may eschewe Nor in this lyfe fynally escape, Specially when Parchas haue it shape, Approche gan it may none other bene. Alas the whyle of this hardy quene, ¶Whych on a daye furyous and wrothe, Into the felde out of Troye goth. And gan on grekes proudly for to sette. And alderfyrst Pirrhus with her met, Of mortall hate and indignaciowne. And she in haste by the renges downe, Rode vnto him swyftly on her stede, Whose spores sharpe made his sides blede, And as they mette their speres in the reste, They bare so euen markynge at the breste, That theyr shaftes sothly this no tale, Gan to shyuer all on peces smale, Without bowynge other backe or chine, For neyther made other to enclyne. Saue the head forged harde of stele, Of Pantasillia that was grounde wele, In Pirrhus herte perced hath so depe, That plate in soth nor maile might him kepe But the sharpnesse of his speres head, Was of his bloud in party redde. The which stroke when Grekes gan espye, For astoned loude gan to crye. And all attones for the noyse and sowne Vpon the quene in the felde came downe, In compasse wyse goynge enuyrowne. But thrugh her prowesse & her high renowne She her defendeth that it was meruayle. But they alas so sore gan her assayle, That all to hewe they haue her basenet, Amyd Grekes so thycke she was beset. That wyth axes and swerdes square. Her shelde in sothe made was all bare, And her shoulders were naked eke alas, The mayle hewen of and the rere bras. ¶And Pirrhus then like as it is founde, For anguishe onely of his grene wounde, In doubte playnly where he should eskape, Towarde this quene faste gan him rape, To be auenged whatsoeuer fall. Amyd the felde amonge the Grekes all. ¶And when she sawe that he came so faste, Of force onely to mete him yet she cast, And wyth her swerde fyrste gan him assayle, But of her stroke it happed her to fayle, Amonge the prese so narowe she was besette. ¶And Pirrhus sworde was so sharpe whet, That sodaynly of her arme he smet, Alas there was none armure him to lette, But raceth through al the shoulder bone, So that this quene fel downe dead anone. And of malice for to venge him more, At his herte the yre fret so sore, That with a chere of very anger pale, He hath her hewen all on peces smale. The whych was to foule a cruell dede. ¶But euer in one Pirrhus gan so blede, Nigh to the death of his mortall wounde, For lacke of bloud that he fell to grounde, In a traunce full longe groflynge he laye, Tyll knyghtes in all the haste they may. Haue take him vp and laid him on a shelde, And dolefully home out of the felde. They haue him borne wounded as he was. ¶And the women of the quene alas, For very sorowe and inwarde deadly wo, When they sawe theyr lady was ago. For to be dead they were so desyrous, That in all haste wood and furyous, In a rage without gouernayle, Grekes they gan of newe to assayle. To auēge their quene they wer so herty kīde

That they slewe sothly as I fynde, Two thousād grek{is} on thē they were so wood But oh alas in great dysioynt they stode, Onely for lacke they haue no gouernour, For she was gon y^t was theyr chiefe succoure. Whych was also to speake of hardynesse, Of women al lady and maystresse, As of her hande that I can of rede.

OH ye Troians ye stande in great dread, Amid y^e felde all out of gouernaunce, The daye is come of your vnhappy chaunce, For nowe haue ye leder none nor guyde, Farewell your truste now on euery syde, And Grekes be vpon you so stronge, That ye the felde maye not kepe longe. For they caste them felly you to quyte, This same daye as Dares lyst endyte. For as he wryt homeward as they drawe, Ten thousand Troians were of grek{is} slawe For all theyr wardes came attones downe, And mortally wythout excepciowne, They kylle and slee al that them withstode. And most they were vpon the women wood, To be auenged playnly as I reade, On euery halfe and theyr bloud to shede, Without mercy or remyssyowne, Chasynge Troyans home into the towne Out of the felde for there mas none abode, So pyteously tho wyth them it stode, That they ne can none other recure caste, But kepe theyr towne & shit their gates faste For all theyr hope clene was agone, Any more to fyght wyth theyr fone. For now theyr trust of knyghthod was away Theyr worthy men slayne welawaye. Refute was none but in theyr cyte, To kepe them close it maye none other be. For theim thought they might it kepe longe, Their walles were so mighty and so stronge, If they had plenty of vytayle, Though all y^e worlde attones them assayle, They may be sure while they kepe theim in, For euermore that no men shall them wyn. Yet neuerthelesse earely and eke late, The Grekes made tofore euery gate, Full myghty watche and awayte full stronge Wyth preuy spyes goynge in amonge, That of theyr foen none escape away. By none engyne as ferforth as they maye. ¶And in this whyle wythin Troye towne, More then I can make descriptiowne, For the quene there was so great a sorowe, Of euery wyght both at eue and morowe, That she alas was slayne for her mede. And aldermost for they ne myght haue, The dead corps to burye and to graue, With reuerence and wyth honour dewe, For whych they gan to the grekes sewe. With great prayer and wyth great busynesse, But all in vayne and in ydelnesse, Was theyr request y^t Grekes were so wrothe. And fynally wyth many sondry othe, Onely of malyce and of hote enuye, The dead corps to theim they denye, And shortly sayde of mortall enmyte, That of houndes it shall deuoured be, There was no gayne their rācour to cōpesse. ¶But Pyrrhus then of very gentylnesse, Ne would assent to so foule a dede, But wood and wroth cruell Dyomede, Sayde openly how it was syttynge, That she fayle of her buryinge, That slaine hadde so many worthy man. And thus the stryfe amonge the Grekes gan, With great rumoure and alteraciowne. Tyll at the laste vnder Troye towne, Of her they haue the dead corps ytake, And cruelly in a profounde lake, They haue her cast where I let her lye, And vnto Troye agayne I wyll me hye, To tell forth how they lyue in pyne.

OH cruell Mars y^t hast made for to fyne, Through thyne yre al y^e worthy blode, Of Troye alas why hast thou be so wood, Agaynst them to slee theyr knightes all. Why hast thou let thy bitter venim fall, On theim alas thou sterre infortunate, Wyth all the worlde to make them at debate. Oh hatefull sterre hote combust and drye, Fyryirous grounde of all enuye, Hasty euer ful of discension, And coleryk of thy complexion. In murdre and death is aye thy delyte, In takinge vengeaunce most thin appetite, First meuer of anger and of hate, Roote of contek causinge to debate.

In stryfe and murmur most is thy desyre, Fearfull of loke as any wylde fyre. And gastfull euer of thy wood syght, As any leuen so flawminge is thy lyght, Lyke in twyncklynge to the spakes redde, In great fyres that abrode so sprede, Consumynge aye by melancolye, Hertes that be embraced wyth enuye, Thy wrathe is aye so fretynge and so kene, And causeth men to be longe and lene, Comsumpt sklendre browne & citren hewed, Vnmercyable and right euell thewed. Wonder sleyghty and engenyous, Compassynge and suspecyous, Tryste and solen and full of heuynesse, And assentynge to all cursednesse, To awaytinge death and roberye, To murdre also and to trecherye, Without remors of any conscyence, So venymous is thine influence, And helper arte vnto false treason. The house of whom is the Scorpyon, And crowned arte in the caprycorne, But in the Bull is thy kingdome lorne. For therin is thy deiection, Thy power loste and dominacion. And hast also in thy subiection. Exyle, werre, chaynes and pryson, Proscripsyon and captyuyte, That for thy malyce on Troye the cyte, So would god I could chyde aryghte, That hast on theim kydde thy fell myghte, Of thy rancour hooly the outtraunce. First on theim for to do vengeaunce, With speres sharpe and swerdes kene whette, And nowe in pryson to enclose them and shet. So vengeably that they dare not out, The Grekes fell aye lying them about, They be not holde in maner wyse, In thy temple to do sacrafyse, Nother with Bulles nor w^t bores wylde, Nor with beastes that euer be vnmylde. As Tygres Beares nor the wood Lyon, Of whych thou arte souerayne and patron. They are not hold to do the brymstone smoke On thyne Aulters whiche art so felly wroke, Of theym alas and now worst of all, Thou hast shad out chefe of all thy gall, Amonge them selfe to bryng in treason, Fayned trouthe and symulacyon, To make hertes amonge them selfe deuide, Lo how the serpent of dyscorde gan glyde. Full slyly in tyll he haue caughte a place, To voyde awaye both happe and grace, With his venym of dyscensyon, When it is spred in any regyon, In any common borough towne or cyte, Amonges men of high or lowe degre. For when hertes in loue be not one, Farewell fortune theyr grace is clene agone, For where dyscorde holdeth resydence, It is well worse than swerde of pestylence. For what is worse of her ferre or nere, Than a foe that is famylyere, For who maye more harme yf him lust, Then any enemye vpon whom men trust, That to descriue shortly in a clause. The very roote and the trewe cause, Of all myschyefe and confusyon, In euery lande is discenscion, And more peryllous yf it be pryuye, Recorde I take on Troye the Cyte. That founde Fortune frendly aye at nede, Tyll longe hid hate gan abrode to sprede, For prudence sothly hath prouyded, That a renge in it selfe deuyded, Shall recureles tourne wylde and waste, And the dwellers desolate in haste. For Mars that is of enuye lorde, Amonge them selfe sowen hath discorde, Agayne the whych maye no sucoure be, For worse than werre sothly semeth me. Treason cured vnder a fayned peace, ¶And roote of all was olde Anchises, ¶With his sonne called Eneas. Dan Anthenor and Pollydamas, That haue contriued amonge theym vtterly, And vnder veil conceyued secretly, If it fall Grekes Troye to haue, Fyrst how they maye theyr owne lyues saue, By some engyne sleyghtes or treate, And if so were that it maye not be, As they caste by no maner waye, They would rather traytours be to Troye. Pryuely so it were not spyed. And couertly with Grekes ben allyed, Then stande hole wyth the towne of trouthe, And wylfully of neclygence and slouthe,

Suraunce & othe of olde made to the towne, Refuse playnly in conclusyowne, And allyaunce let slake and slyde, And theyr lygaunce set also asyde. In theyr aduyse they thought for the beste, For they theim caste for to lyue at reste, And meryer eke for ernest and for game, To saue theyr life & wandre forth in shame, Then wylfully dye at mischyefe, To trayish their town they held it no reprefe So they might escape them selfe alyue, Them lyst nothynge for the towne to stryue, They sought in sothe for soure or for swete, A meane waye to lyue in queet. And therupon they haue theyr waye nome, Vnto the kinge. and when y^t they were come, To his presence in full couert wyse, Vnder coloure they began deuyse, To tell theyr tayle so that fynally, ¶Theyr counsayle was that Pryam vtterly In no maner be not reckles, To pursewe to Grekes for a peace, If it so be that he it get maye. And yelde againe to king Menelaye, Without stryfe the freshe quene Heleyne. And ouermore that he not disdayne, The harmes done by Parys gon full yore, In Citheron iustly to restore.

BVt oh alas of false iniquytye, This counsayle rose for vnder in secrete, The venim was as sugre vnder gall. For well they wyste that the Grekes all, Ne would accorde in conclusyowne, To haue a peace with them of Troie towne. Whyles they were to such mischyefe brought To treate therof in sothe it was for nought. ¶For Pryamus thē and Hecuba the quene, With his sonnes and with Pollycene, That yet were left wyth him in the towne, Myght haue reygned by longe successyowne, If that Grekes full and not repented, Vnto a peace hooly had assented. ¶But that counsayle gyuen was to late, Sythen Grekes of well elder date, Had profered fyrst at Tenedowne, By the aduyse of kynge Agamenowne. A fynall peace shortly for to seyne. So he would restore agayne Heleyne, With amendes requyred of reason, Of damages wrought at Cytheron. His messangers fyrste whan that he sente, To Pryamus that wolde not assente, To the requeste iustly that they brought. For of peace the meanes that they sought, Of very pryde were to them denyed, By wylfulnesse alas so they were guyded, For lacke onely of wyt and of prudence. But nowe they haue w^t cost & great dispence, With slaughter of men & many great damage The sharpe shoutes and the cruel rage, Abyde fully of this mortall werre. It is full sure that they wyll not differre, The tyme forth to treate for a peace, Them lyste nothynge to be so reckelesse, Nor vnaduysed what them ought to do. Trowe ye they wyll so lyghtly go, Home into Grece without recompence. They wolde seme it were a neglygence. Speake not therof for it wyll not be, Specyally now Troye the cyte, In myschyefe stande vpon his fynall fate. This remedye shape was to late, For grekes thought ryght of very truste, That they of Troye stode at their luste, Holdynge them selfe veryly victours. And of their foen fully conquerous. Without doubte or ambyguyte, For the counsayle of this ylke Enee, ¶Of Anthenor and of this Anchyses, As ye haue herde to treate for a peace. Ne rose in sothe but of doublenesse. Onely of treason and of hyghe falsenesse, As Pryamus conceyueth by theyr chere. Lyke in this boke as ye shall after here. ¶For on a daye whan that Pryamus, With his sonne called Amphymacus, A counsayle helde with other of the towne. This three haue made a suggestyowne, Vnto the kynge touchynge the treate. But he anone discrete and aduyse, Prudently or he woulde assente, Gan vndergrope playnely what they mente, Onely of wytte and discrecion, Or he it put in execucion, Makynge therof a maner of delaye. But proudely then standyng at a baye. This Anthenor without reuerence,

Spake to the kynge in open audyence, And shortly saide with a sterne chere, If you lyst our counsayle for to heare, And do therafter platly thou mayst chese, And but thou wylt where thou wynne or lese This is the fyne thou gettest no more of me. Worke after them that of thy counsayle be. To whom the kynge wonder soberly, Answered agayne full beningenely. Syr Anthenor ye ought you not greue, For myne entente is not to repreue, Your wyse counsayle nor your prudent rede. If it conclude to the common spede, Of my people and saluacyon. But wyte ryght well iustly of reason, Vnder suger if there be cured gall, In preiudyce of my lyeges all. Causynge them in myschyefe for to fyne, I wyll there from vtterly declyne, As ryght requyreth for our alder ease, And me semeth this should not displease, To thy conceyte nor do the none offence, For euery man is holden of prudence, The worst to leue and the better take, Wysedome to sewe and folye to forsake, And remedye to seke for his sore, And with that worde the Troian Anthenor, Of sodayne yre gan to chaunge his bloud, And abreydynge on his fete he stode, And full felly sayde vnto the kynge. ¶Now sykerly this is a wonder thynge, How your wysedome and auysenesse, Are blynded so of very wylfulnesse, That ye maye not on no syde se, The great myschyefe and aduersytee, That we are in vpon euery syde. For we maye not dissimule nor hide, In what disioynt playnly that we stande, Be not our foen also here at hande, And haue beset our wall rounde aboute, And we for feare dare not yssue oute, Nor be so bolde to vndo a gate, With them to fyght that vs deadly hate, We be so feble and they are so stronge, For sothly yet they haue them amonge, Fyfty kynges worthy of renowne, Confederat to our destructiowne. And therupon platly wyll abyde, Whych vowed haue in theyr great pryde, Neuer parte hense fro the towne, Tyll the walles be tourned vp so downe. Your worthy sonnes also now be dead, That you were wont to helpe in your nede, Your manly knyghtes slayne euerychone, That vs to saue remedye is none. It is in vayne to treaty of dyffence, Wherfore I read of reason and prudence, Or we be slayne and our Cyte lese. Of two harmes the least for to chese. This to saye that in our entente, As syttynge is and expedyent, We treate of peace and no longer feyne, And herewythall restore agayne Heleyne. For loue of whom many worthy man, Hath lost his lyfe sythen the werre began. For nowe Parys is vnder stone ygraue, The best rede in sothe that ye maye haue. To sende her home agayne to Menelaye. And to profre as fer forth as ye maye, To restore within a littell whyle, The harmes done by Parys in the yle, Whych men are wont Cithera to call. This is my reade here afore you all. And wyth that word vp rose Amphimacus, To this counsayle full contraryous, And shortly sayde that it shall not be, ¶As Anthenor hath rade in no degre. And euer thus without more respyte, He spake to him of very hygh despyte.

THou Anthenor I haue espyed wele, We may truste in the neuer a dele. Wyth vs to stande in our great nede, For trouth and fayth in the be nowe deade, Falshed hath slayne in the stabilnesse. And in stede of thy sykernesse, We fynde in the sothly varyaunce. Where is become the fayth of thy lygeaunce, The hestes made to stande wyth thy kinge. Where be thine othes so double in meaninge. Where is now hyd thy olde assuraunce. Where is become thy fayned false constaunce. In stede of whych mutabylyte, Hath take his place like as ye maye se. With dewe chaunge thou art so remewable. Vpō no ground thou mayst not stande stable Thy trouth is gone of olde affectiowne, That y^u shuldest haue to stand with y^e towne,

Of fayth with vs for to lyue or deye. For truste and hope exyled be aweye, In thy persone shortly for to wryte, That busy arte the kynge to excyte, In disencrease of his estate royall. Vnto Grekes now be so thrall, To seke a peace as it were for dread, Thou shouldest rather of thy manlyhead, Haue profered him the Citye to diffende, There on thy lyfe at outraunce to dispende▪ Wherfore in sothe here I the assure, Rather then we shoulde this endure, Twenty thousande shall with spere & shelde, Vpon a daye be slayne in the felde, Thy worde I holde for no prophecye, For it procedeth of very trecherye, Of doubilnesse and of false treason, Vndermyninge with prodycyon. Though that thou outwarde shewe fayre, The venym hyd thy tayle doth repayre, Lyke a serpent styngynge vnder floures, Thereby to fele of such counsayloures. ¶And in this whyle with wordes despytous ¶Full bytingly hath Amphymacus, ¶All openly Anthenor repreued. With his counsayle so he was agreued. Seynge the treason that he would mene, Tyll Eneas gan to go betwene, With floryshed speche full of flatterye, And gan his tale so to modefye, Lyke as he mente trouth in his entente. ¶But therin was double attendemente, He spake but one and yet he mente twayne, ¶Amphymacus onely to refrayne, To attempre him of his melancolye, Onely tyll he might a time espie, Like his purpose that he maye procede, To execute it fully vp in dede. And when that he founde had a space, Vnder pretence of a trewe face, With his tale he gan to breake oute, Many a Troyan standinge him aboute. And shortly sayde for conclusyowne, Touchynge diffence playnly of the towne, Howe that henge onely in balaunce, For both hope trust and assuraunce, Of the Cyte taken haue theyr flyght, For fynally our manhod and our myght, And our knyghthod togyther be ago. With the Grekes more to haue ado. And with theim stoutly for to fyght, The whych hath lost many a worthy knyght.

ANd they be redy vpon vs to set, And we dare not our gat{is} more vnshet We be alas supprised so wyth dread. Then semeth me how it is great nede. ¶By good aduyse for to seke a meane, In this matter how we shall vs demeane. ¶And for my parte sothfastly I saye, I knowe as nowe none so redy waye, As prudentlye for a peace to treate. ¶But Pyram then in a sodayne heate, Without abode of cheare and face pale, Of rancoure gan interrupte his tale. For he attempre myght not his herte, So fretingely the treason made him smerte, ¶And for he myght him selfe not restrayne, Thus he sayde vnto both twayne. To Anthenor and also to Enee, I wonder greatly that ye hardy be, In very trouthe for shame so to varye, And that ye be so rebell and contrarye, Some onely of false collusyon, Vs to brynge in desperacyon, Me and my lyeges yf I shall not fayne, Of false entente to catche vs in a trayne. Alas howe maye you in your herte fynde, Agayne nature for to be vnkynde, That whylom were of my counsayle chefe, Of euery thynge or it was brought to prefe, ¶For ye absente I could nothynge fyne. And nowe alas ye caste to declyne, Awaye fro me barayne lefte and sole, That to remembre it is to great a dole. How any wyght alas so chaunge can, For who shall more truste any man, When ye be founde double of entente. Can ye not thynke how by your assente, By your counsayle and by your aduyse, Whylom how I sente forth Parys, Into Grece of full yore ago. ¶And Anthenor thou wotest thy selfe also, How thou were fyrste made imbassadour. And therupon chyefe counsaylour, Touchinge the sonde made for Exeon. But after that cause and mocyon, Though were in sothe that Parys shulde go,

Into Grece thou wotest well it is so. For I ne durste of presumpcion, Haue sente Parys vnto Citheron, Without aduyce and auctorytye, Of Eneas playnly and of the, Vpon Grekes a werre to haue gonne. I trowe in sothe that you neuer konne, Excuse him selfe and you be aduysed. For euerye thynge wrought was and deuised And execute by counsayle of you twayne. For when Parys went for Heleyne, Grounde and roote to speake in speciall, Were thou Enee and cause principall, Present also when euery thing was wrought Out of Grece when she was hither brought. For this the sothe out of that regyowne, She neuer had come to this towne, If thou haddest he therto contrayre. Albe thou wouldest with thy wordes fayre, Thy selfe excuse here in audience, As thou knewe nought of that offence, But fully were vnwittinge of the dede. And nowe my sonnes euerychone be deade, And ye me se alone destitute, Your counsayle is as for chyefe refute, Me to pursewe to Grekes for a peace, As I were foryetell reckles, To remembre the infinite outrages, The mortall werre slaughter and damages, The cruelte and destructiowne, That they haue wrought herupō this towne That veryly when I all recorde, For to be dead I can not accorde, With them to treate like as ye deuise, For I espye in many sondry wyse, In your entente a right peryllous snare, So couertly vnder falshed dare, That it wyll be to my confusyon, If ye acheue your entencion, Fynally as ye haue it shape. For impossyble it were to escape, Shamefully at myschyefe me to dye, Without recure of any remedye. For this the fyne I knowe it out of doubte, Of the treate that ye be aboute. ¶And ryght anone the Troian Eneas, Of yre and rancoure so ameued was, Agayne the kynge with a swellynge herte, That sodaynly out at the dore he sterte, After he had for to be awroke Full many worde agayne the kynge yspoke. He wente his waye and Anthenor also. ¶And Pyramus of very yre and wo, Sodainly braste out for to wepe, He might him selfe not for anguishe kepe, The anger fret vpon him so sore, Within him selfe conceyuinge more and more By euydence of discrescyon, The couert guyle and the false treason, That they for him and for his Cyte, Yshapen haue but he auysed be, Dredynge aye that these ylke twayne, By some engyne or conspyred trayne, To the Grekes would hym betrayet Wherfore the kynge caste and would saye, Shape awaye theyr malyce to withstande, So the treason that they toke on hande, Onely of ryght in dede or it were founde, Vpon them selfe myght agayne rebounde, That the full execucyon, Of theyr contryued conspyracion, Resorte agayne in ful dewe wyse. Onely of theym that gan it fyrste deuyse. Treason for treason is conuenyent, For to falshed the guerdon pertynente, Is shamefull deathe and the fynall mede. Wherfore to shape in this great nede, ¶A remedye this olde Pryamus, ¶Calleth his sonne Amphymacus. And pytyously alone but they twayne, In teares drowned gan to him complayne, On Anthenor and on this Eneas. And sayde sonne take hede on this case, And thynke how I am thy father deare, And how there be now no more yfere, Of my sonnes lefte wyth me alyue, But thou alone and therfore as blyue, Touching y^e treason conspyred and ysworne, What eu••r fall let vs be toforne, Onely of wysedome away for to make, That we maye fyrst in the trappe theim take And to puruey for theym euen ylyche, That iustly they maye fall in the dyche, Whych they haue made and for vs ytreyned. And in all haste let so be ordeyned, That this matter close be kept in mewe, To fyne onely that they not eschewe. For to be slayue of equite and ryght.

In this place euen towarde night. For I purpose playnly for theyr sake, Agayne that houre a counsayle for to make, And vnder coloure make them both call. And thou vnwarely shalt vpon them fall, With knightes sworne vnto the and me, In this matter for to be secre. And right anone this Amphimacus, Assented is vnto Pryamus, To accomplishe in full secret wise, Fro poynt to poynt as ye haue herde deuyse.

BVt sothe is sayde of full yore agone, Of olde wise y^e counsayle is there none, In all this worlde so pryuely ycaste. Tyll it will out platly at the laste. For the people whych that is rurall, Sayth y^t secretes which be not knowen at all, The earthe will as they make mynde, Discure theim of his owne kinde. And of nature vp cast and disclose, The thinge that men are wont in it to close. Let euery man beware as it is good, Or his counsayle go to ferre abrode. And specially lordes haue great nede, Of all men they stande most in dreade, So great awayte is vpon them layde. That when it happeth that a thinge be sayde, Or ones spoke of a lordes mouthe, It falleth ofte that it is full kouthe, And reported and ysprad full wyde, In many coste by theim that stande asyde, Or he be ware by sodayne auenture. For some in hap in whom he doth assure, Wyll fyrste of all him reporte amys. Therfore in sothe best for them is this, For to beware and kepe theyr tonge. A purpose caste should not be ronge, Nor spoke abrode amonge folkes rude. For gladly aye the worste they conclude, Of euery thynge while that it is newe, In reporte varyaunt and vntrewe, For after reason nothinge they expowne, But after will the folke that be of towne, Lyke the purpose which they desyre. For they fayre as a wispe of fyre, When it brenneth brightest in his blase. Sodaynly it wasteth as a wase, On suche folke platly is no truste, That fire and water holde in their fiste, Beynge with both ylke indifferente. Now hote nowe colde lyke as theyr entente Of newe chaungeth so in theyr courage, After the calme foloweth sodayne rage, To daye they loue and to morowe hate, To truste a common lasteth by no date, Let not a lorde make them to secre. For nowe the counsayle is ronne to Enee, That Pryam wende had be ful close, For the rumour and the winde arose, By false reporte is so ferre yblowe, That Eneas and Anthenor well knowe, Ende and gynnynge and euery maner thyng, And the hole counsayle of Pryamus the king ¶And both two full of one entente, With other eke that were of theyr assente, Conspyred be and togyther sworne. And couertly caste a waye aforne, That fynally Troye the Cyte, By theyr engyne shall destroyed be. And of accorde caste playnly thus, If it hap that kynge Pryamus, Sende for theim shortly to conclude, They would come with such a multytude, Of armed men if they se nede, That of him they shoulde nothing drede. For Eneas was in that Cyte, Of great power and auctoryte, Both of bloud and kynred allyed, And for his golde greatly magnyfyed, Through the Cyte moste in specyall, That he in myght and power perygall, As sayth Guydo was vnto the kynge. And Anthenor almost in euery thynge▪ Was vnto hym egall of power, And both twayne of one herte entyre, Conspyred haue in sothe agayne the towne, Fynally to this conclusyowne, That they of Grekes myght haue suerte, Wyth theyr treasour to go at lybertee, With theyr allyes borne of Troye towne. When all were brought to destructyowne, With life and good saufe without more. At whyche tyme for Dan Anthenor, And Eneas Pryamus hath sente, To accomplyshe the fyne of his entente. ¶And they in haste with so great a route, Came of knyghtes stuffed him aboute,

That therof was astoned Pryamus. ¶And made sende for Amphimacus, Commaundyng him to chaunge his purpose. For well he wysse his counsayle was not close And by sygnes gan well vnderstande, That the matter whiche they had in hande, Discured was to his confusyon. Bothe the murder and conspyration. Apparceyuynge in his inwarde syght, The great power of this Troyan knyght. And the fauour of this Eneas, And of the comon howe he fostred was. The whiche proudely in open audyence, Tofore the kynge declareth his sentence, Fully concludyng maugre who sayth nay. How that there was none other meane waye Refute nor gayne nor other remedye. ¶But onely peace who so it denye. Other escapynge playnely was there none. And thervpon the commons euerychone, With one voyce gan calle and crye, And his counsayle gan greatly magnifye. Albe the kynge was therto al contrary. But Eneas lyste no lenger tary, Nor dyfferre the fyne of his purpose. But wonder Irous from his see he rose. And full vngoodly spake vnto the kynge, And shortely sayde without more taryinge. Where so befall thou be lefe or lothe, Or with his purpose pleased outher wrothe, Thou mayst well truste it shall none other be. For fynally herken this of me. Maugre thy wyll and also all the myght, This same daye or it be nyghte, For a peace with grekes we shall trete. ¶ And whan the kinge sawe the feruent hete Bothe of the comon and of Eneas. He gan anone dissymule in this case. For of prudence he gan to se, For that tyme it may none other be. Wherfore syth he myght it not amende, He wisely gan for to condescende, To the purpose platly of Enee. And sayde he wolde goodly take at gree, And except what them lyste ordeyne. And so the kynge lerned to fayne, Agayne the conceyte platly of his herte. For otherwyse he coulde not asterte, Coacte of force and of vyolence. And when he sawe in his aduertence, That he myght dyuerte on no syde, From the fraude that sowen was so wyde, Without grutchynge he falsely gaue assent. That Anthenor shulde forth be sente, By comon choyse to treate for the towne, Whiche was tofore inconclusyowne, With the grekes accorded fynally, Touchynge the effecte of his ambassadrye. Fro poynt to poynt where he wolde stonde, Variaunt fro that he toke on hande. And for they had afore hym full conceyued, With better chere he was of them receyued. And in this whyle that Anthenor was out, For to treate with the grekes stoute, As ye haue harde for a peace fynall. In the towne aboute on euery wall, They of Troye gan ascende blyue, Withe the braunches of many freshe olyue, In token of peace and grekes eke agayne, Amyd the fielde endelonge the playne, Shewed them that all myght sene. Eke of Olyue lusty bowes grene. ¶And to confyrme this fro poynt to poynt, And that nothinge stode in disioynte. The worthy kynge great Agamenon, Commytted hath of hyghe discrecion, Fully power and auctorytie, For the grekes playnely vnto three. Fyrste of all for a peace to treat, Vnto the wyse kynge of Crete. ¶To Vlixes and to Dyomede. And to chese mo thē thought it was no nede, For what they do they wyll holde stable. And fynally not be variable, From the ende platly that they make. And thervpon was assuraunce take, Of eyther parte by bonde of sacrament. And so they be with Anthenor ywent, Out asyde this worthy lordes three. And when they were at theyr liberte, From all tumulte alone pryuely. This Anthenor full of trechery, Respecte of falshode and of doublenesse, Gan his purpose vnto them expresse. Behotynge them to trashe the cyte, So they wolde make him surety. ¶That fyrste hym selfe and with him Eneas Shall fredom haue in euery maner case,

With playne power commited to the towne.

BVt kinge Priam hash aye suspectiowne, To Anthenor and also to Enee, How that they shall destroye his cytye, And to him selfe trist of hertye wo, He sayde al as what is best to do, In this myschyefe that I am in fall. And yet is this to me worst of all, That I am now through myn aduersytye, Bounde and compelled of necessytye, Maugre my head in maner of raunson, For my lyfe to make redempcyon, Vnto my foen that I haue most at herte. I se ryght well it maye not asterte, For I must paye there gayneth no succoour. My good my golde ryches and treasoure, To my most foen and dare it not denye, And yet I stonde most in ieopardye, Without refute hanginge in balaunce, Alas constreyned through my wofull chaūce, To obeye theyr lust that mortally me hate, Dryuen therto of byrthe through my fate, So Parchas haue my destynye yshape, By none engyne I maye it not escape.

ANd while Priā gan thus to complayne, To Anthenor came the quene Heleyne, Besechynge him in his embassadrye, Of gentylnesse for to specyfye, Through his prudent medyacyon, To fynde awaye in conseruacyon, Of her estate fynally that she, To Menelaye may reconsiled be. If so fall that the treate holde, So that her lorde of his grace would, Restore her vnto her degre, Onely of mercy and of high pytye. ¶And Anthenor vnto her request, Gaue audyence makynge a behest, How he would with all his herte entere, Be dilygent to treate of this mattere. And therwithal of hym she toke her leue, And this was done on the same eue, That Anthenor I pray god giue him sorowe To Grekes went on the next morowe, Onelye to treate for a peace fynall. And in this whyle the feaste funerall, Was holde in Troye myne auctour wryteth thus, Of a lorde that called was Glaucus, A manly knight tofore in his lyuynge, And sonne was of Pryamus the kynge. And ouer this lyke as sayth Guydo, The kynge Pryam busyed him also Of Pantasylla how the body myght, Be conserued freshly to the syghte. And for loue of this hardy quene, Of pured golde and of stones shene, He let make a vessell full royall, And fylde it full wyth bawine naturall. To kepe the corps from corrupciowne, Tyll the werre of Grekes and of the towne, Through the treate were ystynted clene.

SO that the kynge called Phylomene, This dead quene might of affection, Carye it home into her regyon, With the aunceters buryed for to be, Lyke the maner of olde antyquyte. It were in vayne more for to ryme, I passe ouer vnto the Treatee, Atwene Grekes and Troy the Cytee. And for the partye of Grekes as I reade, Fyrste Vlyxes and with him Diomede. Assygned were and the kynge of Crete, With Anthenor and Eneas to mete. And all yfere shortly in sentence, By conduyt first and after by lycence, Of the noble wyse Agamenowne, They entred be into Troye towne, By conueyinge of this Eneas, Of whose cōmynge such a ioye there was. Of the comunes whych in thinges newe, Reioyce aye after though they rewe. Wenynge full well in theyr opinyon, That by the good medyacyon, Of Vlyxes and the kinge of Crete, And Diomede that came eke to Treate, That these thre shoulde make as faste, A fynall peace euer for to laste, And a full ende of theyr alder sorowe. And therupon earely the next morowe, Pryam let make a conuocaciowne, Of all the worthy within Troye towne, And when they were assembled al in one, The wyse Vlyxes rose vp anone, And his tale gan in suche wyse, So prudently his wordes to deuyse.

That to herken euery man hath ioye. And specyally they that were of Troye, That of his inwarde meanynge fraudelente, Full lyttell wyst nor of his entente, To theyr pleasaunce so he could fayne. And fyrste he axeth of them thinges twayne. The one was this that of the Cytye, He would haue golde an huge quantytye, In recompence of harmes that were do. An other thynge he axed also, Without abode that Amphymacus, That sonne was to kynge Pryamus, Perpetually that he exyled be, Neuer to entre Troye the Cyte, For golde, prayer, nor for no raunson. And this was done by suggestyon, Of Anthenor false and malycyous, Onely for he was contraryous, That he shoulde treate for to a peace, And for that he was not reckles, To saye a trouthe this Amphimacus. Therfore in sothe this serpent enuyous, Nowe he hath founde a time for to byte, He though the would cruelly him quyte, For trouthe onely that was in his entente. ¶Therfore it is full expedyent, Of prudence euery man to charge. That his tunge be not ouer large. Trouthes all be not for to sayne. For wysedome is sometyme to fayne, And dissymule in aduersytye, Specyally when men in trouble be, And se theyr speche maye them not auayle. Better is then that theyr tunge fayle, Than folyly to theyr domage speake. Men must amonge cure and ouer reke, The trouthe of thynges onely of prudence, And humbly suffer in pacyence, For false reporte of folkes enuyous. Who can so do I holde hym vertuous. For better it is a whyle to abyde, Than saye all out of rancour & of pryde. Sylence in sothe hath oft in hasty stryfe, Had of vyctorye a prerogatyfe, And the palme of debates wonne, That well are they that so suffre konne, And be of speche not presumptuous. For as I tolde this Amphymacus, Notwithstandynge that he trouth mente, Yet for a worde he into exyle wente. Albe that god full iustly afterwarde, Hath Anthenor quyt for his rewarde. For wyth the same he was after hyt, For his falsenesse duely as it syt. This to saye of olde antyquytye, He was to exyle and captyuytye, Foriudged after into proscripsyowne, And relegate out of Troye towne, Perpetually by the procurynge, Of Eneas. loo howe the ryghtfull kynge, That all maye se in his drouydence. Full iustly can make recompence, Of doubylnesse and symulacyon. And of all suche contriued false treason. For who auengeth with falshed on his parte He shall be hyt with the same darte. He skapeth not for to haue a wounde. For falshed aye wyll agayne rebounde. Where it is rose fyrste to his orygynall, Resorte agayne ryght as doth a ball. For who for fraude euer doth him caste, Truste ryght well it wyll out at the laste. And who supplanteth shall supplanted be, By good example as ye shall after se.

OF Anthenor the storye yf ye reade, And whiles that they treate & procede, Touchynge the exyle and prescripsion, Captyuytye and relegacyon, That they caste for Amphymacus. There was herde a noyse meruaylous, A great tumulte and a wonder sowne, Lyke as it were a lamentacyowne, Of sondry folke playning in distresse, For hertye wo and inwarde heuynesse, Out of the treate euen when they gone, This confuse crye after gan anone. ¶Wherof Vlyxes and eke Dyomede, Sodaynly fel in a dreade, Supposynge in theyr oppynyowne, That some rumour was fall in the towne, Amonge the people in the comontee, Of hasty rancour auenged for to be. For the loue of Amphimacus, That causeles was exyled thus, Of volunte agayne all trouthe and ryght. Wherfore the dradde when it drewe to night, To be murdred of the comons of the towne,

For the fraude and conspiracion, Falsly of olde enmytee. By Anthenor and by false Enee. And sothly yet there was no maner man, That could wyt wherof it began, Nor espye firste when it arose, In all the paleys nor throughout the close, They herde it well but they saye nought, Wherof they were astoned in their thought, And affrayde of very sodayne dreade, Vlixes first and also Diomede, Lest with comons they had be byset. But Anthenor without longer let, To make them sure from all tumulte & crye, The Grekes hath conueyed secretly. And when they were assured of theyr place, Vlixes firste with a chaunged face, Gan pynche sore in the selfe whyle, At Anthenor of reason and of guyle. That with his hestes so fro daye to daye, Of very sleyghte put them in delaye, Semynge fully for ought he could espye, There was deceyt fraude or trecherye, In the couenauntes that he hath behight. ¶To whom anone this false Troian knight With sadde cheare and sobre countenaunce, Well auysed in his dalyaunce. Aunswered agayne and playnly did expresse, Iwysse quod he I take vnto wytnesse, The hygh goddes that euery thynge may se, Without fayninge that I haue busy be, Fro poynt to poynt your purpose to acheue. So that I do you not greue, And fynally that ye lyst to heare. There is one thinge perturbeth this mattere, Whiche I shall so it be none offence, Playnely remembre here in your presence. ¶This to saye of olde antiquitee, Fyrste at the buyldynge of Troye the Cytye, That whilom was ycalled Yllion, For cause onely at his foundacion, Kinge Ylyus sythe go full longe, The founder was of the wall stronge. After whom as made is mencion, It called was and named Yllyon. In the whych with great and busy charge, In Pallas name he made a temple large, That passingly was had in reuerence, And when this Phane of most excellence, Perfourmed was by masonry full wele, And saue the rose complete euerydele, Of myghty stone the buyldinge well assured. But or it was with lede and tymber cured, Agayne tempest for to be obstacle, There tell a wonder onely by myracle, That I dare well affyrme it in certayne, Suche an other was there neuer seyne. Who so list se and consydre all, This meruayle was so celestiall.

FOr there came downe from y^e high heauē, By Plyades and the sterres seuen, And through the eyre holdynge his passage. Lyke a fayre and meruaylous ymage, That in this world though men had sought, Ne was there none halfe so well ywrought. For as it is truely to suppose, Pygmalyon remembred in the rose, In his tyme had no connynge, To graue or paynte so curyous a thynge. For it was wrought wyth dylygent laboure, By hande of Aungell in the heauenly toure. Thrugh goddes myght and diuine ordinaūce And hither sent through his purueyaunce, For a relyke onely of his grace, There to abyde for a protection, For a diffence and saluacion, Perpetually whyle the worlde maye dure, Agayne all mischyefe and mysauenture. Euery trouble and trybulacyon, In susteynynge and releuacion, And soueraygne helpe eke of this Cyte. The whych neuer maye destroyed be, By no engyne that men maye purchase. The goddes haue graunted such a grace. And such vertue annexed eke therto. That Troye in sothe maye neuer be fordo, Tyll this relyke stole be awaye. And yet in sothe there is no man that maye, From the place slere it nor remewe, But the preieste to whom it is dewe. Onely of offyce to touche it with his honde, So mightely conserued is the bonde, That who attempteth in conclusyon, It to remewe of presumpcion, At the fyne platly he shall fayle. For force none maye him not auayle. For it in sothe will not remeued be,

Except of him to whom of deutee, It pertayneth as ye haue herde toforne. And ouermore there is no man yet borne, That reade can nor tell in no degre, Veryly where it be stone or tree. Nor howe it was deuised nor ywrought. There is no wight so subtill in his thoughte, Ceriously to tell the manere. For Minerua that is so freshe and clere, The sterne goddesse thrugh her great might, That is so dreadful both of loke and sight, Which on her brest hath of cristall, Her shelde Egys this goddesse immortall. Ygraunted hath in bokes as I lerne, Through her power which that is eterne. This holy relike for a memoryall, To her Temple of buildinge most royall, It to conserue from all assault of dreade, And to succoure in euery maner nede, Agayne theyr foen vnto Troye towne, While it is kept with deuocyowne. So that alwaye by successyowne, From kinge to kinge in the line downe. But iust tytle liuely succede, Therto annexed that they take hede, Prudently auoyding necligence, It to conserue with due reuerence, As they are bounde and yholde of ryght. Thē shall no enemye power haue nor might, To do domage in hindering of the towne, And why it is called Palladyowne, Lyke as clerkes wryte of it and sayne, Is for Pallas to make her towne certayne. This relike sente fro the heauen downe. And to conclude shortly my reasowne, This the cause our purpose is so let. ¶Than quod Vlixus sith it maye be no bet, Our labour is in ydell and in vayne, Without recure if it be certayne. As thou hast sayd this towne in no degre, Through this relyke maye not destroyed be. It was foly the to vndertake, Vnto Grekes beheste for to make, Without this thou haddest be well sure. ¶Quod Anthenor yet there is recure, As I haue hight ye shall haue the towne, Although there be a dylacyowne, And the maner anone I shall tell, If it so be ye lyst a whyle dwell, Without noyse other perturbaunce. ¶The prieste the whych the gouernaunce, Of this relike shalbe spoke vnto, By good aduyse and ytreated so, That he shall be full of our assente. For he with golde and treasour shal be blent, That he accorde shall to our purpose, To brynge the relyke which is kept so close, To what place that ye lyste assigne. Be styll of porte goodly and benygne In your workes tyll I haue brought about, Fully this thinge and be nothyng in doubte, I dare my selfe take it well on hande. And when they had his meaninge vnderstād They toke leue and went out of the towne. But fyrst to voyde all suspecyowne, At theyr goynge Anthenor hath hyght, How that he would go the same nyghte, To Priamus to make ordynaunce, How the bondes and the assuraunce, Of the peace should ymaked be. And for to knowe eke the quantytye, Of the golde that ye shall receyue. Thus shall I best the purpose apperceyue. Of the kinge and knowe it eueridele. And they consente and like it wonder wele, Euery thinge that Anthenor had sayde. And so they parte glad and well apayde, And went theyr waye and made no tarying. ¶And Anthenor goth vnto the kinge, Hym counsaylinge he make no delay. To call his lordes agayne the nexte daye, And his lyeges to assemble yfere. Fynally to engroce this mattere, As it was syttynge and expedyent. And when the kinge in open perliament, Crowned sat in his regalye. This Anthenor gan to specyfye, In audyence that men myght knowe, To eche estate both to high and lowe, The Grekes will if they agre therto, And what the summe was of golde also. Which they are if the peace shall stande, Twenty thousande marke to haue in hande, Of pured golde which must anone be payde, And of syluer that maye not be delayed, They must eke haue the same quantytee. And ouer this as they accorded be, Certayne measures by couenaunt also,

Of wheate and floure theyr lyues for to saue, In theyr repayre by the large sea, When they sayle home to theyr countre. And that the collecte made be anone, By good aduyse of them euerychone, That all be redy by a certayne daye, There was no man that durst tho saye naye, Nor contrarye that Anthenor had sayde. Where so they were well or euyll payde, But ful assent in conclusyowne. And in all haste throughout all the towne, The collatours gathered vp the golde, Lyke the summe that I haue you tolde, Of poore & ryche there was spared none. The whych tyme Anthenor is gone, Vnto the priest that called was Tonaunt, If he might in any wise him daunt, To make his herte fully to enclyne. Full craftely he layde out hooke and lyne, With lusty bayte of false couetyse, Excytynge him in full secret wyse, That would be of his assente, And condescende vnto his entente, To put him in possession, Of the relyke called Palladion, Without abode it maye delyuered be, And gaue him golde an huge quantytye, And him to blend much more behyght. And this was done pryuely by nyghte. Shortly concludinge if he condescende, That he would his state amende, So passyngly that for euer more, He and his heyres shoulde haue golde & store Plenty ynough that none indygence, Shoulde haue power hym to do offence. For vnto the this a vowe I make, Quod Anthenor and platly vndertake, Of golde & good thou shalt haue suffysaunce, And of treasour passynge habundaunce, That thou shalt in very sykernesse, All thy kyn excelle in rychesse, If thou delyuer lyke to myne axynge, Palladyon whych is in thy kepynge. And I behote thou mayste trust me, By bonde of it shalbe secree, Lest it were hyndrynge to thy name. For if so be that thou dreadest shame, To be esclaundred of so foule a deede, I shape shall that thou nede not drede, Nor be agaste in no maner wyse. For such a waye in sothe I shall deuyse, That no man shall be suspecyous, To thy person or engenyous, To deme amysse how this matter goth. For be well ware that me were as lothe, To be diffamed of so foule a thynge, To knowe therof or be assentynge, In any maner that they of the towne, Shoulde to me haue suspecyowne. Let be let be leuer I had deye, We shall therfore caste an other wey, Our honour saue so that thou and I, Shall go all quyte I saye the vtterly. That neyther shall beholde ne perceyuere, Of this thefte but stande hole and clere, What euer fall without any shame. For Vlyxes shall beare all the blame. Of this dede and this thefe also. For men shall saye when it is ago, By his engyne and his sleyghty wyle, Through his traynes and his false guyle, That he hath stole awaye Palladyowne, From the temple in leasynge of the towne. That fynally durynge all his lyue, Men shall to hym his falshede descryue. And all the gylte arreten his offence, That thou and I onely of innocence, Throughout the worlde of this iniquytye, Shall be excused platly and go free. It nedeth not tarye in this mattere. Come of attones lo thy golde is here, For thou ne shalt longer delayed be. And sith thou seest no difficultye, Is on no parte perle nor reprefe, Shame nor dread slaundre nor mischyefe, Delaye not to take this thinge on hande. And first this priest gan him to withstande, Full myghtely and sayde for nothinge, Nother for prayer nor for manasinge, For golde nor good ne no maner mede, He ne would assente to so foule a deede. Thus he answered at the pryme face. But ofte sith it happeth men purchase, By gifte of good to speake in wordes playne, That trouth in pouerte might neuer attayne For mede more by falshed maye conquere, Than tytle of ryght that men in trouthe lere And gyftes great hertes can enclyne,

And golde they maye in stele & marbyll mine This priestes herte hath so depe graue. That Anthenor shall his purpose haue, For to possede the Palladion. Through false engyne and conspiracion, Of this priest that called was Tonaunte. Which of falshede myght him beste auaunte, That this relyke fro the temple rente, And to Vlyxes Anthenor it sente, Out of the towne in all the haste he might, By a seruaunt secretly by nyght, Wherof Troians mortally dismayde, And through treason fynally outrayed. Wrought by this priest with couetise blent. False Anthenor beinge of assente.

¶Howe the Grekes made an horse of brasse wherin was men of armes, and vnder colour of peace brought it into Troye, by the whych it was vtterly destroyed for euer. Cap. xxxv.

OH Troy alas wel mayst y^u morne & wepe In complaynyng w^t hertye sighes depe Falsly defrauded of Palladyon, And put for euer out of possessyon. ¶Oh mighty goddes y^t the worlde gouerne, And euerything through your might cōserne Ryght as it is of your dewtye, And trouthe and falshed maye togither se. In euery herte through your purueyaunce. Why toke ye not on this priest vengeaunce, That traytoursly through his inyquytye, For golde and good betrayshed the cytye, Of Troye alas without more recure. Who shall emforth and more be suer, Or any place stande in sykertee, Syth holynesse of so hygh degree, Maye be infecte and corrupt with mede. Euery herte ought quake and drede, To se alas by false ypocrasye, Priestes that should the worlde exemplefye, With good doctryne of perfection, To make so soone a transmutacion, Of double entent sodainly to varye. For doubtles if the Sanctuarye, Be pollut founde in conuersacyon, Naked and bare of deuocyon, And that the shynynge of theyr parfyte light Ytourned be by derkenesse vnto nyght, Vnto what place shall men further go, To take example what them ought to do. Certys the roote and ground of euerydele, Is couetyse who so loke wele. Of whych the grayne is so farre ysowe, That who so lyst aueryce to knowe, Amonge priestes he shall it rathest fynde. For therwythall they be made blynde, To theyr estate that they maye not se. For in sothenesse there is no degre, Gredyer nor more rauynous, Of worldly good more couetous, Than priestes be to catche what they maye. For it is gone syth many a daye, That in theyr brest fyxed was the roote, Of couetyse whych syt so soote. That no man maye arrace it nor remewe. For at theyr tayle euer it doth them sewe, This false worme mother and noryce, Of all myschyefe and of euery yvce, For golde is nowe so shynynge and so bryght So persynge eke and so clere of lyghte, That priestes be with his steemes blent. For in sothnesse they be in theyr entente, Of couetyse very receptacle. And to possede eke the tabernacle. Theyr herte is aye so gredy to embrace, That aueryce hath his dwellynge place, Mid of their brest this vice of vyces all. That causeth vertue rather for to fall, Where he abyde so he can supplaunte, Recorde I take of the priest Tonaunte. That for treasour to Anthenor hath solde, The ryche relyke that he had in holde. Palladion while they of Troye towne, Haue gathered vp aboute enuyron, Of riche and poore throughout the citye, Golde and syluer an huge quantytye, Floure and whete to paye theyr raunsom, The whych summe of entencion, They made kepe wysely and conserue, In the Temple that longeth to Mynerue, Purposynge after of one affectiowne, The citezyns throughout all the towne, Hopinge therby for to fare the bet, Vpon a daye assygned and yset. To Apollo in theyr panym wyse Solempnelye make a sacrafise, With slaughter of bestes w^t encense & bloude,

On whych daye when the pryestes stode, In compasse rounde about the aultere, And gan to kyndle the coles bryght and clere, Vpon the aulter playnly as I reade To offer vp the beastes that were deade, In the flawme and the great leuen, To Apollo stellyfyed in heauen, When they to offer were most laborous, The fyrste was that the sacryde fyre, Ne would brenne lyke to his desyre, Nor the flawme vp ascende alofte. Albe that they assayed full ofte, More then ten tymes and yet it ne would be For aye it queynt that they ne myght se, Nought but smoky resolucions, Horryble and blake lyke exalacyons, Of newe lyme when that it is meynt, With water colde and of his heat queynt, That they might in no maner wyse, For lacke of fyre do theyr sacrafyse. For aye they found a wonder obstacle, And the nexte was a more myracle, On theyr aulter when they gan to sprede, The entrayles of beastes that were deade, To queme Apollo w^t flawme bryght & faire. There came anone downe out of the ayre, A royall Egle full perfynge of his loke, And in his clawes the offerynge vp he toke, And the entrayles lyinge enuyrowne, In his descence makynge such a sowne, That none so hardy of herte nor manhode, But that he was astoned there he stode, And supprysed through nerfe & euerye vayne, Of this meruayle and this case sodayne. But the Egle abydynge there no more, Ouer the towne full hygh gan to sore, Towarde Grekes enhastyng what he might, And on theyr shyppes sodaynly alyghte, And the entrayles of the beastes all. This Egle let from his clawes fal, Wherof Troyans when they toke hede, Dismayed wyth a mortall dreade. By sygnes haue clerely comprehended, That theyr goddes greatly were offended, Agayne the towne when the fyre went out. And for they would be put out of doute, To be sure what this meruayle mente. To Cassandra in all haste they sente, Fully to haue declaracyon. And therupon playne exposycyon. And she tolde theim platly out of dreade, That the quenchynge of theyr fyres red, Was vnto them a demonstracion, Both of yre and indygnacion, ¶That Apollo hath to Troye bore, For the bloud that was shed before, Of Achylles in his temple slawe, Vengeably murdred and ydrawe, Without any maner reuerence, Or honour done to the excellence, Of Apollo beynge there presente, That the Phane and plates adiacent, Were desolued and pollut wyth bloude. Wherfore she sayde shortly it is good, That they went on prosessyon, With herte contryte and deuocyon, To the tombe of Achylles at nyght, Onelye to fette on theyr tapres lyght, Sacred fyre brennynge at the wake, Fully in purpose by assente to make, For his mordre satisfaction. The whych fyre by none occasyon, Shall not quenche but his flawmes holde, Through none assault of stormye wind{is} colde The sacrafyse vpon the aultere Tofore Apollo brenne shall so clere, And they of Troye wrought by her rede. But of the Egle she bad them take hede, That nothynge was but token of treason, Pronostyke and declaracyon, Fynally how Troye and Ylyon, Shall tourne in haste to destruction. For the flyinge of this foule royall, Ouer the towne and the myghty wall, With his fethers mayled bryght and shene. And the entrayles in his clawes kene, To Troye was a fynall demonstraimre, Soth fast shewynge and signifyaunce. The grace and ewer and hap of olde fortune, By lyklyhead might not contune, Nor perseuer in the fyrst lyghte, For all attones they haue take theyr flight. Palladion might theym not witholde That stole was lyke as I you tolde, For no man maye his fatall chaunce refuse. And Grekes eke faste gan to muse, And inwardly in theyr wyttes sought, Of the entrayles that the Egle broughte,

And therupon gan togyther rounde, Til that Calchas did euery thing expowne, And vnto theym full gan assure, That the fine of this auenture, Conclude should vpon theyr welfare. And bad also for no coste they spare. To perseuer and be of herte stable, By fortune theym selfe to enhable. Theym counsaylynge to do theyr busy payne Solempnelye in haste to ordayne, A certayne offrynge borne out of the felde, To fayre Pallas with her cristall shelde, And to her make a ryche sacrafyse, As the storye by ordre shall deuyse.

BYshop Calchas wyth his lockes hore Traytour forsworne syth go ful yore. That falsed hath trouthe & his allyaunce, Whom clerkes haue put in remembraunce, In theyr lockes with letters olde and newe, To exemplefye no man to be vntrewe. For though yeares passe faste awaye, Rust of sclaunder lightly wyll not deye. The fret therof is so corrosyfe. That it lasteth full many mannes lyfe, And is full harde to arrace awaye, Of whose venym full selde is made allaye, Reporte therof blowen is so wyde. Perpetually that it wyll abyde, Remembred newe and freshely had in mynde Recorde of him that could a waye fynde, Olde Calchas euyl mut he sterue, Vnder colour of offrynge to Mynerue, To make Grekes entre into towne, This sleyghty serpent father and patrowne, And fynder vp of treason and of guyle, Compassed hath and yfounde a wyle, How Grekes shall the Cytye wynne & take. Pretendynge them sacryfyce to make, Vnto Pallas as I shall expresse. For this traytour merour of falsenesse, The Grekes bad for to do theyr payne, To Minerua an offrynge to fayne. And in all haste that they should theim spede. And of assente they dyd make a stede, Large and wyde of coper and of brasse, By crafte of Synon that contryued was, That it myght receyue large and wele, A thousande knyghtes armed bright in stele. Through the sleyght and the compassynge, The subtyll wytte and meruaylous working Of this wyse and crafty Greke Synon, Which through his castynge and discresion, Perfourmed hath this ryche stede of brasse, As ye haue herde by byddinge of Calchas, And by the aduyse of Appius the wyse, That holpe also the stede to deuyse, To fyne onely that of deuociowne, Grekes myght requere of the towne, When it were made to graunt them licence, It presente in the reuerence, Of myghty Pallas in stele armed bryght. Amyd her temple large and ful of light, By the offringe to fynde occasyon, To haue entre frely into towne, By pylgramage theyr vowes to fulfyl, In which stede daren shal ful stylle, A thousande knightes as Calchas by deuise, Ordeyned hath that was so slye and wise. By crafte of Synon and of Appyus, This large stede of makinge meruaylous, Vnder pretence of oblacyon, Was completful to his perfection, Of workemanshyppe as I tolde afore, When the siege sothly gan to fine, And the Cyte was brought to ruyne, Through Grekes myght and the wall strōge Were bete downe large thicke and longe. The which yeare as made is menciowne, A lyttell afore takynge of the towne, Kinges echone that came fro so ferre, Alyue lefte after the mortall werre. When they saw how Priam by couenaunte, Vnto Grekes that vtterly made graunt, All haste possible to paye his raunsowme. They toke leue and went out of the towne. And fyrste I fynde how kynge Phylomene, With him lad the body of the quene, Pantasillia home to her countre. Ful richely there to buryed be. And of .ij. thousande knightes that this kinge Brought vnto Troye fyrst at his comynge, No mo than fyftye home with him he ladde. And of women that the quene hadde, Of a thousand the storye sayth certayne, But foure hundred home agayne. And thus when all were fro Troye gone, The morowe nexte Priamus anone,

With his lordes rode out of the towne, As was the accorde for confyrmaciowne, Of peace fynall vpon outher syde. ¶And in the fyelde Grekes hym abyde. ¶And for grekes firste swore Dyomede, They of Troye takynge lyttle hede, How the othe was in condicion, Cured aboue vnder false treason. Syth grekes tho in their swearynge, Ne bounde them selfe to no maner thynge, To stande to as in specyall. But for to holde and kepe in generall, The poyntes hole engressed and no more, In thilke treate that Dan Anthenor, With grekes helde this traytour fraudulent. In whiche they were full double of entent, Meynt with treson as ye haue herde toforne. Whiche to obserue onely they were sworne, By fraude of othe and not by wordes playne. Their aduersaryes to take in a trayne. Excludynge them from their meanyng ferre. Peace in the face, but in the herte werre. All openly confirmed with their hande, Inwarde treason by assuraunce of bonde. But though the venym was closed w^t a wall, It was not hyd from him that knoweth all. For certaynely as clerkes teache, Who that swereth falsely in his speche, Flouryshynge outwarde by a fayre coloure, For to deceyue his trewe neyghbour. He is forsworne what so euer he be. The treason hyd though men may not se, How so the worde be awaye yborne. Who swereth by crafte by crafte is forsworne. There may be made no excusacion. For god that knoweth the entention, Demeth the herte and the word right nought For he the wyll knoweth and the thought, Of euery man nygh and eke aferre. Therfore beware no man hym forswere, As grekes dyd Troyans to deceyue, That the fraude coulde not conceyue. Supposynge that Grekes had be, Faythfull and trewe of their suretye. ¶But nothynge on they in herte thought, whiche in the ende they full dere abought, When they founde fully the reuerse, And to their speche the dede so dyuerse. It were but fayne by and by to wryte, Their fayned othes nor their wordes whyte. Nor the cheris that they coulde fayne, But to conclude with the quene Heleyne, Durynge the treate vpon the same daye, ¶Delyuered was to kynge Menelaye. And after that was payde the raunsowne, Graunted tofore and gathered in the towne, Golde and syluer where also and floure. And to their shyppes with diligent laboure, In full great haste euery thyng was brought Where through the citie after came to nought ¶And grekes than by symulacyon, Makynge a colour of deuocion, Through holynesse vnder ypocrisye, Falsly fayned by fraude and flaterye. The kynge haue prayed to haue lybertye, Frely to entre in to the Cytye. To make assete by oblacyon, For the thefte of Palladyon. And offer vp the riche stede of brasse, To the goddesse that called is Pallas. ¶What kynge Pryam lyketh to assygne. That she to them be wyllinge and beninge. In their repeyre saylynge by the sea, Home into Grece towarde their countre, When she is quemed with his large stede. Of whiche alas Pryam toke no hede. ¶The treason hyd he coulde not aduerte, But graunted them with all his hole herte. When that them lyke to bringe it into towne, By false entysinge and suggestiowne, Of Anthenor and also of Enee. Hauynge no drede nor ambyguite, In his entent nor suspection, Nother of fayninge nor of false treason, But right frendely lyke to his beheste, Condescendeth vnto their requeste. Their auowes that they myght obserue, To offer vp this horse vnto Mynerue. And grekes tho with great diligence, Full great honour and huge reuerence, Haue shapen them with processiowne, To bringe the stede into Troye towne. The men of armes beinge aye therin, By whom they caste Troye for to wynne, In shorte tyme for it stode on the date. And whan this horse brought was to y^e gate▪ It was so narowe that there was no space, For the stede in to towne to passe,

For the stede into the towne to pace. Albe that they assayed ouer all, Wherfore Pryam bet a downe the wall, To make it large ryght at their deuyse. In whiche thinge alas he was vnwyse. For cause chyefe of his confusyowne, Was that this horse came into the towne, But humbly forth they gan to procede. To the temple with this large stede. And to Pallas mekely knelynge downe, They all attones made there oblacyon. With fayned chere and false deuociowne. Wherof in herte glad was all the towne, And specyall they that were of Troye. ¶But sothe is sayde that aye the fyne of ioye, Who occupyeth as men full ofte se. For vnwarely cometh aduersytye, After gladnesse. wo and mysauenture, When men beste wene for to standen sure. In worldly blyshe there none affyaunce, So dyuers is his vnhappy chaunce. Full of deceyte euer meynt with trouble, And for to truste varyaunt and double. And selde in one abydynge any throwe, For worldly luste though it be now blowe. With pompe and pride & with boste & sowne, Anone it passeth recorde of Troye towne, That wende well by this ryche stede, To haue be sure and deuoyde of drede, Perpetually as I haue tolde tofore. But when grekes haue this horse ybore, Tofore Pallas as ye haue herde me telle, Them lyketh not longer for to dwelle, In the boundes of this myghty towne. But of purpose to the Greke Synowne, They haue committed hole the gouernayle, Of this stede the whiche wyll not fayle, When he seeth best opportunyte, By this engyne to trayshen the Cytye. And grekes haue in this whyle founde, A newe sleyght them fully to confounde. This to saye they haue made theyr sonde, To kynge Pryam they wolde go fro londe, Vnto the sea towarde Tenedowne. And thyther sayle for this conclusyowne, For that Heleyne by good auysement, In secrete wyse thyther shalbe sent, For they dradde if vpon the lande, She were delyuered shortly to their honde, Grekes wolde of malys do their payne, The more party to sleen this Heleyne. For she was grounde & gynnyng of their wo, The very rote and the cause also, Of the slaughter of many worthy man, Sythen the tyme the syege fyrst began. Wherfore they sayde for to stynte all stryfe, And to be sure for to saue her lyfe, The best was to sende her out of syght. Secretely to Tenedowne by nyght. Thus they fayned of full false treason, Pryam to put from all suspection. As chaunce they wolde after in all their lyue, Resorte agayne vnto Troye for to stryue. Thus they made Pryam for to wene, But in the hande he was deceyued clene, Of their deceyte knowynge neuer adele. For in his herte he thought not but wele. Grauntyng to thē all that might them please, And when they had at leyser and good ease, Fro Troye sayled vnto Tenedowne. ¶With their nauye the false greke Synowne In Troye waker gan to taken kepe, The tyme when men were in their fyrste slepe And in all haste with his sleyghty gynne, Many vyse and many sotyll pynne, In the stede he made aboute gone. The crafty lockes vndoynge euerychone, And out he goth and gan anone to calle, Within the horse the worthy knyghtes all. So secretly no man myght espye, And trayterously he gan hym for to hye, Vpon the walles the selfe same nyght, And towarde grekes gan to shewe a lyght, Where as they laye tofore Tenedowne. Redy armed to falle vpon the towne. And whan they had this sodayne light espyed On horse backe anone they haue them hyed, Towarde Troye armed clene at all, And in they went by the same walle, Whyche for the horse was but late broke. And mortally for to be a wroke, The knyghtes eke in the stede of brasse, Haue with them met a full sterne pace, And gan anone throughout the Citye, On euery halfe for to kylle and slea. With bloudy sworde vpon euery syde. And made their woundes brode large & wide Whyle they alas no thinge aduertynge.

At mydnight houre abedde lay slepynge, Full innocent and thought not be good. All forbathed in their owne bloude. Bothe man and childe without exception, The grekes sparynge no condicyon, Of olde nor yonge woman wyfe nor mayde. ¶That with the crye Pryamus abrayde, Out of his slepe and sodeynely awoke, Whiche laye all nyght and no hede ne toke, Of the slaughter nor murther in the towne. ¶But tho he wiste that there was treasowne Falsely compassed vnto his cytee, By Anthenor and also by Enee. Of whose malys he was no more in doubte, For the venym was now taken oute, And now the galle of conspyracion, That vnder sugre of symulacion, Hath so longe closed be and hyd, In dede is nowe execute and kyd. And nowe the fraude fully of treason, The castes also of false collusyon, Be raked out and abrode yblowe. And the auctours openly yknowe. ¶Now hath enuye and contryued hate, Of their engyne sette abrode the gate, Now hate deceyte and olde conspyracye, And fayned othes all of one allye, All openly shewed theyr falsenesse. And disclosed all their doublenesse. So farre abrode that nowe is there no geyne For nowe alas the wylde fyre is seyne, In towers hye with the wynde yblased. Wherof Pryam astoned and amased, All awaped sterte out of his bedde, And comfortelesse to the temple is fledde, Of Apollo to saue hym yf he myght. And aye the flawme of the fyres bryght, Brent in the towne and consumeth all. The ryche byldynge whylom so royall, That the walles with the rofes huge, Couered with lede for a chyefe refuge, Were now alas bare and bareyne makyd, The grekes aye with their swordes naked, Murdre and slea where so that they go. That twenty thousande they y^t nyght and mo There kylled haue longe or it was day. And in this slaughter and this great affraye, Spoyle and robbe and take what they finde, Treasour and good, and lefte not behynde, By myghty hande and sturdy vyolence, And the temples without reuerence, They haue despoiled throughout al the town And gredely rent and raced downe, Of golde and syluer the ornamentes all. Tofore the goddes foule mote them fall. ¶Kynge Pryam aye with a deadly chere, To Apollo makyng his prayer, Furyously this deadly wofull man, As he in soth that no reade ne can.

BVt wayte his death & his fatall eure, And Cassandra that holy creature, Of inwarde wo desyrous to sterue, Complaynynge hyed vnto Mynerue, Makynge to her a lamentaciowne. With other gentyll women of the towne. And there alas as they wolden dye, Full pyteously they sobbe wepe and crye, And in their dole there I lette them dwelle. For all there sorowes if I shulde do telle, In this storye and theyr wo discryue, My dulled penne of ruthe shulde also rite riue ¶Rehersynge eke howe in euery strete, Their clothes blacke redy moyste and wete, As they alas both in one and all, On their lordes downe aswone fall. With their bloude be dewed and ysprent, Where men may see the crystall teares meynt, Of their wepynge in their woundes grene, That laye and blede agayne the sonne shene. With deadly eyen castynge vp the whyte, It were but vayne their wofull case to wryte, Nor the maner of their mortall sorowe. ¶But Guydo wryt that the same morowe, How Anthenor and with him false Euee, Conueyed haue throughout the cyte. The myghty Grekes vnto Ilyon. The royall toure and ryche mansyon, That whylom was of most excellence, In the whiche they founde as tho no dyffence Of hyghe nor lowe nor of none estate, For it was lefte alone all desolate, With all the golde and rychesse of the towne, Shet and enclosed in the chyefe dongeowne. But there was no man that withstode, They brake the lockes & raught away y^e good And the treasure that was shet within, Eche for his partie that he might wyn.

They gaue no force who was lyfe or loth. ¶And Pirrhus after to the temple goth, Of Appollo by great cruelte. And fell on Pryam knelyng on his kne, And with his sworde furyously and wood, Tofore the aulter shadde there his bloud. So hye raught both in length and brede, What the streames of his woundes redde, That the statute of golde borned bryght. Of this Apollo for all his great might. For all his power and his sterne face, Defouled was and pollut all the place. Onely by death of this worthy kynge, By Pirrhus slaine while he lay knelynge, Of olde hatred and olde enuyous pryde. Whyle Anthenor and Enee stode besyde, That routhe was and pytye to beholde. To se him lye on the stones colde, So pyteously tofore the aulter blede. Wherof alas when Hecuba toke hede. And her fayre doughter Polycene, With heire to rent as any golde wyer shene. Inly supprysed with sorowe to the herte, When they began consider and aduerte, The noble kinge with bloudy streames red. All for drowned his eyen derke and dead. With Pirrhus sword girte thrugh outher side For mortall feare they durst not abyde. But inwardly through darted with the sight. All in a rage toke them to the flyghte. And yet in so the through out the Cite, They wyste neuer whytherwarde to flee. Rescuse was none nor no remedye, Of kynne nor friende nor of none allye, With grekes sworde the towne was so be sette And in her flight this wofull quene hath met, Eneas causer of all this wrake. Vnto whom rebukynge thus he spake. Oh thou traytour most malycious, Thou false serpent adder enuyous, Croppe and roote fynder of falsenesse, Soures and well of vnkyndenesse. How myghtest thou in thy hande fynde, Vnto thy kynge to be so vnkynde. Gynner and grounde example of treason, And fynall cause of our destruction. How myghtest thou deuoyde of all pytye. Beholdynge alas through thy cruelte, Of the kynge shedde so the bloude, That euer hath byn so gentyll and so good, So gracious lorde specially to the. And ouermore throughe his highe bounte, They honoured and ymagnefyed, All his lyfe it may not be denyed. That lyeth now dead in the temple alas. Thou were not onely traytour in this case, But to his death conspyrynge and vnkynde. Pirrhus conueying where he shuld him finde Tofore Apollo myddes of this cyte, Where thou shuldest of very duetye, Rather haue byn his protection, His myghty shelde and sauacion, That haste this citie and this towne ylorne, In whiche thou were fostred and yborne, On the greatest of reputacion, Of all the lordes dwellinge in this towne. In which thou haddest whilom most plesaūce But all is now out of remembraunce. ¶Yet in thy hert yf any drape be, Of gentylnesse mercy or pytye, In this deadly rage full of tene. Rewe on my doughter yonge Polycene, From grekes sworde her youthe for to saue. If thy herte may any routhe haue, Of manly pytye on her maydenheade. Defende her nowe and kepe her out of drede If thou canste fynde any weye, In any wyse that she maye not deye. ¶That hereafter when men se and rede, The false treason and the foule dede, That thou haste done vnto Troye towne. It maye in partye be protectiowne, To thy fame the venym to allye, Of this treason when men wyll assaye, By iuste reporte thy name to accuse. This dede may the helpe to excuse, Agaynst tonges that speake of Enee. Than wyll they saye thou haddest yet pytye, On Polycene onely of gentilnesse, Therwith to sugre all the bytternesse, Of thy deserte blowe forth by fame, By rehersayle of the foule blame, That shal of the through the worlde be borne With sklaūder infect whē thou art al to torne, That thou ne shalte the shame mowe sustene. Then shall my doughter fayre Polycene, Be thy defence agayne suche famous stryfe, If it so be now thou saue her lyfe.

Of me no force though thou make as blyue, The sworde of grekes through my herte ryue ¶And so by prayer of this wofull quene, This Eneas toke to hym Polycene, Whose traytour herte for all his cruelte, On her youthe was meued of pytye, Onely of routhe that in his brest arose. And secretely put her vp in close, Lest that grekes founde occasyon, Agaynst hym and Ayax Thelamon, Toke to his warde Andromecha. Hectors wyfe and wyfe Cassandra, Out of the temple longing to Mynerue. From grekes sworde their lyues to conserue. ¶And Menelaye toke the quene Heleyne, Into his garde for whom so great a payne, Bode in his herte many daye toforne, By whom alas the cytye is now lorne. ¶And grekes aye were busye in their yre, To slea and kylle and crullly to fyre. On euery syde and to beate downe, Palyce and house and wall of the towne, They spare nought for all goth to the fyre. So feruent hate brent in their desyre, Of olde enuye auenged for to be. That they ne lefte within the Cyte, Nothynge vnbrent and also ylyowne, Was in this rage tourned vp so downe. There made were none exceptions. Onely but take the possyons, Of Anthenor euyll mote he fare. And Eneas whom the grekes spare, As th••y to them were bounde by their othe. And thus the grekes furyous and wrothe, Haue all that daye robbed and ybrent. ¶Tyll that the kynge Agamenon hath sent, For his lordes to assemble yfeare, In Pallas temple onely for to here, There wyse aduyse vpon thynges twayne. Fyrste if they wolde holde and not fayne, Hooly their hope without exceptiowne, To thē by whom they wonne fyrst the towne ¶And ouer more he axed them also, Touchynge the goddes what they wolde do, With golde treasour and possessyowne, That they haue won thrugh their hie renown ¶And they answered without more taryinge They wolde their faith kepe in euery thynge, As they were sworne and hestes holde. And ouer this they sayde howe they wolde, That golde treasour and good of the Cyte, As ryght requietrh and also equitye, Be iustly parted by deuysion, To euery wyght made distribucyon, Lyke his meryt of hygh and lowe degree. And that the kynge eke of reason se, Eche to rewarde after his labour. So as it longeth to a conquerour, That no man haue matter to compleyne. And so they felle in speakynge of Heleyne, Eueryche after his opynyon. And tofore all other Ayax Thelamon, Shortly sayde she hath deserued death, For whom so many haue yelde vp the brethe. Playnely affyrmynge there in Parlement, Of ryghtwysenesse and trewe iudgement, She shulde not escape with the lyfe, That gynnyng was & cause of all their strife Rote and grounde of all their sorowe and wo And so sayde eke many an other mo. And for the noyse and the great affraye, ¶Agamenon nor kinge Menelaye, Ne durst a worde for her partye meue. To saue y^e quene lest grekes wold them greue Agaynst them there was so great rumour, Tyll Vlixes chiefely her socour, Through his wyt and his eloquence, His deuer dyd and his dylygence, To haue her life and fully to purchace, Of the grekes for to gette her grace. ¶And as Guydo also doth vs lere, Agamenon grekes gan requere, To graunt hym for a chiefe guerdon, Of Cassandra to haue possession, All her lyfe with hym to abyde. Eke Eneas and Anthenor besyde, Of Helenus to the grekes tolde, How to the werre he neuer assente wolde, And how that he prudennt and vertuous. In counsaylyng was contrarious, To all tho of hygh and lowe estate, In Troye first that began debate, Atwyxe grekes and this myghty towne. Eke by his helpe and medyatiowne. Achylles was buryed and ygraue, The deade corps from houndes for to saue, Whan he was slayne in full cruell wyse, By nyght tyme as ye haue herde deuyse,

For sothly he and Cassandra both, Of this murder in herte were full wrothe. And sory eke of many an other thynge. Wrought in the towne w^tout their wyttynge. ¶And for they were of malyce Innocent. The grekes haue fully by assent, Graunted to them a prerogatyfe, By Parlement for to haue theyr lyfe. But Helenus first in teares drowned. Tofore the kynge pyteously hath sowned. And abraydynge with a deadly face, In humble wyse besought hym of his grace. Of knyghtly pytye to haue his aduertence. To spare his sworde fro bloud of Innocence. And of mercy that he not disdayne, To graunt lyfe to the sonnes twayne, ¶Of worthy Hector his brother most entere And eke to rewe on their mother dere. Onely of grace that she be not dead. A wydowe lefte a lone and can not reade. And so the kynge ameued in his herte, And wote not whither that she maye diuerte, Of his wordes and his wofull chere, Benygnely graunted his prayer. And gaue eke lyfe and fredom for to go, To the mother and her chyldren two. ¶And to ladyes and gentyll women all, That for mercy to his grace calle. He graunted eke of compassyon, A safe conduite and a fre pardon. Where that them lyste in the towne abyde, Or in the countre adiacent besyde. He put it hole in their electiowne. ¶And thanking him they fell on knees down With many teare dewed in the face. ¶And so the kynge parteth fro the place. And after that grekes ryght anone, Fully purpose to shyp for to gone, In haste to sayle towarde their countre. But suche a tempest rose vp in the sea, Of wawe and wynde also of cloudes blacke, All a moneth that they dare not take, The water salte for drede of Neptunus. ¶Of very Ire and also Golus, Was vnto them in euery thynge contrary. That on the londe made them longe tarye. The sea was aye so fell and boylynge, ¶Tyll the grekes of Calchas enquyryng, By one assent what it myght be, That euer in one so dyuers was the sea. In his rage both eue and morowe. ¶And he answered god gyue him euyl sorow This olde shrewe with all his prophecye, That can so well when hym lyste to lye. How this tempest caused was at all, By the goddes and furyes infernall, That neuer wolde appease nor be stylle, Tyll the number platly of Achylle, Auenged be and shedynge of his bloud. ¶For whiche he sayde Apollo was eke wood For his temple to him consecrate. Was through his death in Troye violate, By bloude agayne be made satisfaction. Wherfore there muste throughe redempcyon, Of her that was roote in speciall, Through her beautye and orygynall, Cause of his death yonge Polycene, And gynnynge fyrst of his mortall tene. Therfore to Apollo she might vp offred be, By sacrafyce to please his deyte. With death agayne to make recompence. Right as by death fyrst was the offence, This grekes must vtterly fulfyll, If they desyre for to haue at wyll, The large sea to sayle in quiet. ¶And Pirrhus tho in a furious hete, Gan enquire about of euery man, For Policene but no wyght tell can, Of her a worde nor shortely where she was. Saufe some sayde howe that Eneas, And Anthenor had hyd her pryuely. Wherof there rose amonge them sodeynly, Suche agrutchynge of grekes all aboute, Of their lyfe that they were in doubte. So inwardly this thinges they toke at grefe ¶Till Anthenor god geue hym euyll prefe, That may of treason as wardeyn bere y^e keye To shewe out his malys euery waye. So longe hath sought till in a chamber olde, He hath her founde and the grekes tolde, And brought her forth vnto their presence, By cruell force and hatefull vyolence, Without pytye or compassyon, And her delyuered to Agamenon. ¶And he alas by hastye Iudgement, Without respyte or auysemente. Shortely hath dempte that she shall be deade That was flourynge in her maydenhead. ¶And for to do excepcyon,

¶She was assygned by Agamenon, Vnto Pirrhus and he of tirannye, Ladde her forth and fast gan hym hye, To the place where she shulde dye. ¶Great was the prease that in the weye, Gan croude and shoue to beholde and sene, This yonge mayde fayre Pollycene, That for her beautye and her semlynesse, Her womanhede and excellent fayrenesse, Of all yfere when they toke hede. They had routhe that she shalbe deade. Without gylte or any more trespace. Where men may se vpon many face, The salte teares faste falle downe, Of very pytye and compassyowne. For man nor childe was none so harde of hert But he felte for her sake some smert. Her goodly face whan they beholde and se, And fayne wolde if it might haue be, Delyuered her of very force anone, Fro Pirrus hande but for they wende echone Without her death neuer to haue repeire, Into grece nor the wether fayre. As Calchas had made suggestion, And brought them all in opynyon. ¶And at the laste whan this Policene, Of dede and wyll a very mayde clene, Was to the graue of Achylles brought. She kneleth downe & w^t an humble thought Caste vp her eye and gan syghe ofte, And to the goddes humbly and softe, With dredfull herte and deuocion, Made in this wyse her lamentacion.

OH ye myghty y^t in this worlde gouerne, And euery thinge consyder and diserne, By whom this world so huge large & rounde. Both ayre and sea heauen & eke y^e grounde, At your deuyse with a worde was wrought. And sothfastly knowe euery thought, Right as it is of euery maner wyght, Without lettynge so persynge is your syght, That nothinge is conceyled nor ywrye, From the beholdynge of your eternall eye, And euery thinge maye attones se. Vpon my soule haue mercy and pyte. And of your grace and beninge cure, Vpon my wo and pyteous auenture, Haue some routhe nowe that I shall deye, My wofull spyryte to lede and conueye, Where as you lyst now that I shall pace. For vnto you in this selfe place, I me confesse with all humilyte, That hytherto I haue in chastyte, Ladde all my lyfe and kept my maydēhead, In your seruyce both in thought and dede, In porte in chere and in countenaunce, Or for feture of any daliaunce, With one misloke I neuer yet abrayde. So that in sothe I dye shall a maide, As ye well knowe of synne all innocent, Though I be nowe dempt by iudgement, For to be dead without gilte at all. Witnesse on you that be immortall. Clene of entente of that I am accused. And yet alas I maye not be excused, But that the swerde of vengeaunce must byte Routheles which am nothinge to wite. But stande cleare and pure of all offence. And discharged in my conscience, I dare affirme and fully giltles, Touchinge the murdre of worthy Achilles, Which slewe my brother and after loued me, And is nowe cause of mine aduersyte. And yet in will dede worde nor thought, Vnto his death assentaunt was right nought But therof was right sory im my herte. Albe that I maye not now asterte, For to be dead onely for his sake. On me alone vengeaunce shalbe take, Without mercy in full cruell wise. With my bloud to make sacrafise, To the goddes their wrathe for to queme. Oh people blinde in sothe amisse ye deme, Agaynst me your herte is so cruell, To mercyles to yrous and to fell, Without routhe to mikel indurate, To sley a mayde alone desolate. Out of your herte alas pitye is gone, Harder in trouthe than any stocke or stone, And more cruell in your opinion, For lacke of pitye than Tigre or Lion. Certis ye be greatly for to blame, And ought therof for to haue great shame, To assent to so foule a dede, To sley a maide quakinge in her dread, And graunte her none oportunitye, For to be wepe her virginyte,

¶That of this cruell & this piteous wreche. My bloude your gylte hereafter shall apeche, And accuse also your great enuye, To the goddes that shall iustyfye, Euery vnright bothe of hygh and lowe. Full egally and make to be knowe. The trouthe plainly spare and no degree, But make open that is now secree. I saye not this nor my selfe complayne, To haue redres of my fatall payne. For death is now more welcome vnto me, Than is my lyfe and more I take at gree. Sithen my brother most worthy of renowne, Be slayne all and buryed in this towne. My father dead in his vnweldy age. And I alone leste in all this rage. And haue abyde pyteousely to se, Fynally ruyne now of this cytye. Whiche at my herte sytteth now so sore, That leuer I haue then to wepe more, Dye attones in relesse of my wo. Sith all my kynne is passed and ago. Longer to lyue were to me a death. For better is here to yelde vp the breth, Then to be led out of this Cyte, Amonge straungers to lyue in pouertee,

OH death welcome and longer lette, Thy dredefull darte to fyle & to whette, My tender herte therwith all to ryue. Agayne thy myght I wyll neuer stryue. ¶Now is tyme to keth the power, On me that am of wyll and herte entere, A clene mayde so as I began, Without touche of any maner man. In all my lyfe to this same daye, This lyttle auaunte yet make I maye, In myne ende to the goddes all. After whose helpe I clyppe and calle, And to their mercy mekely I commende, My woful spirite & pray them that they sende To euery mayde better happe and grace, Then I haue nowe and a longer space, In hertye ioye and honour to contune, Without assaulte of any infortune. To leade their lyfe in prosperitye. And all maydens remembreth vpon me, To take ensample how ye shall you kepe. And that ye wolde a fewe teares wepe, When that ye thynke vpon fayre Pollyne, That was of age and of yeres grene, Whan she was slayne by cruell auenture. And to the goddes for to haue in cure, My dredfull goste holely I betake, Eternally and thus an ende I make. ¶And with y^t word her head she gan enclyne Full humbly when she shulde fyne, And of her eyen helde the ledes downe. ¶And Pirrhus then wodder then Lyon, Dismembred hath with his sherpe sworde. This yonge made dredefull and aferde. And ouer more his cruelte to shewe, On peces smale he hath her all to hewe, Endelonge his fathers sepulture. Alas how myght his cruell herte endure, Mercyles to do so foule a dede. I am astoned sothly when I reade, After her death how it did hym good, Lyke a tiraunt to caste abrode her bloude, Or a Tygre that can no routhe haue. Rounde enuyrowne about his fathers graue He sprent of hate and of cruelte. Oh thou Pyrrhus thou mayste well ybe, Achylles sonne by lyneall discent. For lyke to hym of herte and of entente, Thou were in soth deuoyde of all pytye, And worse then he yet in one degree. For of thy father in all his lyuinge, Ne radde I neuer yet so foule a thynge, Though I wolde of hatred him abrayde, For no rancour that euer he slewe amayde. I fynde well that he had his parte, Whylom in loue of Cupydes darte, That made him sore in his lyue smerte, When that he was wounded to the herte. With the castynge onely of an eye, Wenynge therby wystly for to dye. He myght not the sodeyne stroke escape. And afterwarde as his fate hath shape, ¶He murdred was for the loue of Pollicene, Whom thou haste slayne in the cruell tene. Furyously without routh or shame. For whiche thynge the foule hatefull fame, Through al the world hereafter shalbe spred. When this story rehersed is and red. Then shalbe sayd that Pirrhus routhlesse, Slewe in his yre a mayde gyltelesse, And woryed shall thy name most odyble.

Be for this dede passyngly horryble. For loue onely of fayre Pollycene. The death of whom when Hecuba the quene Hath sene alas as she besyde stode. For very wo gan to be wood, And for sorowe out of her wyt she went, And her clothes and heire she rent, All in a rage and wot not what she doth. But gan anone with handes and with tothe, In her furye scrache and eke byte. Stones castes and with fystes smyte, Whom she mette tyll grekes made her bynde. And sente her forth also as I fynde, Into an yle to Troye partment, Where she was slayne onely by Iudgement, Of the grekes and stoned to the death. And whan she had yelde vp the breth. This wofull quene by cruell auenture, The grekes dyd make a sepulture, Ceryously of metall and of stone. And toke the corps and buryed it anone, With great honour and solempnitee. That longe after men there might se, The ryche toumbe costfull and royall. There set and made for a memoryall, Of Hecuba whylom of great fame. And after gaue to that place a name, And called it to be longe in mynde. ¶Locus in festus) in Guydo as I fynde. And thus the quene onely for sorowe wood, Whan her doughter had shad her bloud, Of grekes stones dyd her ende make. As ye haue herde plainly for the sake, Of Policene whylom in Calchas, Vnto Apollo falsly offred was. By Pyrrhus sworde Achylles auengyng, To make the sea calme and blandysshydg, That the goddes take no vengeaunce, Vpon grekes that on euyll chaunce, Come to this false goddes euerychone. And their statues of stockes and of stone. In whiche the serpent and the olde snake, Sathan hym selfe gan his dwellyng make. And fraudently folkes to yllude. Full suttyll can hym selfe illude. In ymages for to make his holde, That forged be of syluer and of golde. That by errour of false illusyon, He hath ybrought to confusyon. Through mischance the worthy kinde of man Syth tyme that alder fyrste began, The false honour of ydolatrye, And the worshyp vnto maumetrye, By sacrafyce of beastes and of bloud, To appease them when that they are wood. And to queme bothe at eue and morowe. I praye to god giue them all sorowe, Where so they be within or without. I none excepte of the false route. Saturne nor Mars Pallas nor Iuno, Iubyter Mercurius nor Pluto, Nother Flora that doth the floures sprede. Nother Bachus with grapes white & read, Nor Cupydo with his eyen blynde. Nother Daphne closed vnder rinde, Through Tellus might of his laurer tree, Nor thou Dyane with thy chastitee. Myghtye Venus nor Citherea, With thy dartes nor Proserpyna, That lady arte depe downe in helle. Nor Bellides that draweth at the well. Ixyon nor thou zezyphus, Nor with thyne appyll thou cruell Tantalus Nor the furies that be infernall. Nor ye that spynne the lyues threde fatall, Vpon the rocke of euery maner man. Nor the Muses that so synge can, Atwene the Coppys of Nysus and Cira, Vpon the hylle besyde Cyrrea. Nor the Cybeles nor Ceres with thy corne, Nor Golus of whom the dredefull horne, Is herde so ferre when thou lyste to blowe. Nor Ianus Byfrons with backe corbed low Nor Pryapes nor Genyus the prest, That cursed aye with candylles in his feste. Them echone that frowarde be to kynde. Nor Ymeneus whose power is to bynde, Hertes that be knit in maryage, Tyll the goddesse of discorde and rage, Disseuereth theim by diuision. Nother Maues that haue their mansyon, Myd the erthe in derkenesse and in wo. Nor this Elues that are wont to go, In vndyrmeles when Phebus is most shene, Nother Fawny in tender greues grene. Water nymphes nor this Naydes, Satyrye nother Driades. That goddes be of wood and wildernesse,

Nor other goddes nother more nor lesse, As Morpheus that is the god of slepe. I holde hym wood that taketh any kepe, To do to them any obseruaunce. He may not fayle for to haue myschaunce, At the ende playnely for his mede. For all suche feyned falsenesse out of drede, Rose of the deuyll and fyrst by his engyne, And of his sleyghty treynes serpentyne, Onely mankynde whan he made loute. To false ydoles the whiche out of doubte, Are but deuylles Dauyd beareth wytnesse, In the saulter where he wryt expresse. And confyrmeth there as he endites, Howe the goddes of Paganisme rytes. One and all he excepteth none, Be made of golde of syluer and of stone. Forged of brasse of metall and of tree. And eyen haue of and yet they may not se. And all are fendes so as Dauyd sayth, That who in them haueth any fayth, Hope credence or in them delyte. It is no drede that they wyll hym quyte, With suche guerdon as the soule sleeth, Perpetually so that the fyne is death. Of their seruyce when men hense pace. And in their lyfe vnhap and euell grace. Mischyefe and wo and confusyowne, As men may se example by the towne, That wende well assured for to haue be, And to haue stande in longe prosperitye. Agayne their foen through helpe of Apollo, Of Venus eke and fauour of Iuno, Through Pallas might Dyane & Mynerue, Whom they were wonte to honour & serue, With cerimonyes and with sacrafyce. As ye tofore haue herde me deuyse. That them haue brought now to ruyne, By cruell death in a bed them to fyne. Here may ye se how the venym bytes, At the ende of suche olde rytes, By euydence of this noble towne. What may auayle now Palladyowne. What may now helpe their frauded fantasye, Of all their olde false ydolatrye. Alas alas they bought it all to sore. Now farewell Troye farewell for euermore. Farewell alas to cruell was thy fall, Of the no more now I wryte shall. For thy sake forsoth whan I take hede, Of inwarde wo my herte I fele blede. And when that I remembre in my thought, By ruine how thou arte brought to noughte. That whylom were so noble and so ryche, That in this worlde I trowe none was liche. Nor perygall to speake of fayrenesse. To speake of knyghthode or of worthynesse, As clerkes say that thy byldynge knewe, That all the worlde ought for to rewe, On thy piteous waste walles wilde. Whylom so royall when men gan to bylde, Thy towres hye and kynge Pryamus, The fyrst began most ryche and gloryous. And sette his see in noble Ilyon. Oh who can wryte a lamentacion, Conuenient Oh Troye for thy sake, Thy great myschiefe to complayne and crye. ¶Certes I trowe not olde Ieremye, That so be wepte the captiuitye, Of thylke noble royall chyefe Cyte, Ierusalem and his destruction. With all the hole transmygracion. ¶Of the Iewes nor thou Ezechyell, That were that tyme when the mischiefe fell, Vnto the kynge ycalled Sedeclye, In Babylon and for thy prophesye, With stones were cruelly yslawe. Nor he that was departed with a sawe, Ye bothe two that colde so complaine, Nor Danyell that felte so great peyne. For the kynges transmutasyon. In a beast tyll through the oryson, Of Danyell he restored was. To mynde agayne and eate no more grasse. ¶Yet veryly though ye all thre, With your wepynge gan aliue be, And present eke at the destructiowne, Of this noble worthy royall towne. To haue bewayled the mischiefe and the wo, And the slaughter at the syege do, On outher partye in full cruell wyse, All your teares might not suffyce, To haue bewepte their sorowes euerychone. By treason wrought aswell as by their foen. ¶Hereof no more for it may not auayle. But lyke as he that gynneth for to sayle, Agayne the wynde when the maste do ryue, Ryght so it were but in vayne to stryue,

Agayne the face bytter then galle, By the vengeaunce vpon Troye falle. Nor to presume their furyes sharpe whette, Ceryously in this boke to sette. So great a thyng I dare not vndertake. But euen here a pyteous ende I make. Of the syege after my symplesse, And though my stile be blotted with rudenesse As of metre both rusty and vnfyled, ¶The fourthe boke that I haue compyled, With humble hande of drede y^t doth me quake Vnto your grace hooly I betake. ¶Of your mercy nothynge in dispryre, So as I can makynge my repeyre, To the grekes and no longer dwelle, Their aduentures of the sea to telle. In their resorte home to their countre. And how that they there receyued be. Onely of supporte so ye not despyse, The fyfthe boke I shortely shall deuyse.

¶Thus endeth the fourth boke.