Hic loquitur adhuc contra incestuosos amantum coitus. Et narrat mirabile exemplum de magno Rege Antiocho, qui vxore mortua propriam filiam violauit: et quia filie Matrimonium penes alios impedire voluit, tale ab eo exiit edictum, quod si quis eam in vxorem peteret, nisi ipse prius1481quoddam problema questionis, quam ipse Rex proposuerat, veraciter solueret, capitali sentencia puniretur. Super quo veniens tandem discretus iuuenis princeps Tyri Appolinus questionem soluit; nec tamen filiam habere potuit, set Rex indignatus ipsum propter hoc in mortis odium recollegit. Vnde Appolinus a facie Regis fugiens, quam plura, prout inferius intitulantur, propter amorem pericla passus est.Of a Cronique in daies gon,The which is cleped Pantheon,In loves cause I rede thus,Hou that the grete Antiochus,Of whom that Antioche tokHis ferste name, as seith the bok,Was coupled to a noble queene,And hadde a dowhter hem betwene:Bot such fortune cam to honde,That deth, which no king mai withstonde,280Bot every lif it mote obeie,This worthi queene tok aweie.P. iii. 285The king, which made mochel mone,Tho stod, as who seith, al him oneWithoute wif, bot nathelesHis doghter, which was pierelesOf beaute, duelte aboute him stille.Bot whanne a man hath welthe at wille,The fleissh is frele and falleth ofte,And that this maide tendre and softe,290Which in hire fadres chambres duelte,1482Withinne a time wiste and felte:For likinge and concupiscence1483Withoute insihte of conscienceThe fader so with lustes blente,That he caste al his hole ententeHis oghne doghter forto spille.This king hath leisir at his wille1484With strengthe, and whanne he time sih,This yonge maiden he forlih:300And sche was tendre and full of drede,Sche couthe noght hir MaidenhedeDefende, and thus sche hath forloreThe flour which sche hath longe bore.It helpeth noght althogh sche wepe,For thei that scholde hir bodi kepeOf wommen were absent as thanne;And thus this maiden goth to manne,The wylde fader thus devourethHis oghne fleissh, which non socoureth,1485310And that was cause of mochel care.Bot after this unkinde fareP. iii. 286Out of the chambre goth the king,And sche lay stille, and of this thing,Withinne hirself such sorghe made,Ther was no wiht that mihte hir glade,For feere of thilke horrible vice.With that cam inne the NorriceWhich fro childhode hire hadde kept,And axeth if sche hadde slept,320And why hire chiere was unglad.Bot sche, which hath ben overladOf that sche myhte noght be wreke,For schame couthe unethes speke;And natheles mercy sche preideWith wepende yhe and thus sche seide:‘Helas, mi Soster, waileway,That evere I sih this ilke day!Thing which mi bodi ferst begatInto this world, onliche that330Mi worldes worschipe hath bereft.’With that sche swouneth now and eft,And evere wissheth after deth,So that welnyh hire lacketh breth.That other, which hire wordes herde,In confortinge of hire ansuerde,To lette hire fadres fol desir1486Sche wiste no recoverir:Whan thing is do, ther is no bote,So suffren thei that suffre mote;340Ther was non other which it wiste.Thus hath this king al that him listeP. iii. 287Of his likinge and his plesance,And laste in such continuance,And such delit he tok therinne,Him thoghte that it was no Sinne;And sche dorste him nothing withseie.Bot fame, which goth every weie,To sondry regnes al abouteThe grete beaute telleth oute350Of such a maide of hih parage:So that for love of mariageThe worthi Princes come and sende,As thei the whiche al honour wende,1487And knewe nothing hou it stod.1488The fader, whanne he understod,That thei his dowhter thus besoghte,With al his wit he caste and thoghte1489Hou that he myhte finde a lette;And such a Statut thanne he sette,360And in this wise his lawe he taxeth,That what man that his doghter axeth,1490Bot if he couthe his questionAssoile upon suggestionOf certein thinges that befelle,The whiche he wolde unto him telle,He scholde in certein lese his hed.And thus ther weren manye ded,Here hevedes stondende on the gate,Till ate laste longe and late,370For lacke of ansuere in the wise,1491The remenant that weren wiseP. iii. 288Eschuieden to make assay.De aduentu Appolini in Antiochiam, vbi ipse filiam Regis Antiochi in vxorem postulauit.Til it befell upon a dayAppolinus the Prince of Tyr,Which hath to love a gret desir,As he which in his hihe modWas likende of his hote blod,A yong, a freissh, a lusti knyht,As he lai musende on a nyht380Of the tidinges whiche he herde,He thoghte assaie hou that it ferde.He was with worthi compainieArraied, and with good navieTo schipe he goth, the wynd him dryveth,And seileth, til that he arryveth:Sauf in the port of AntiocheHe londeth, and goth to aprocheThe kinges Court and his presence.Of every naturel science,390Which eny clerk him couthe teche,He couthe ynowh, and in his specheOf wordes he was eloquent;And whanne he sih the king present,He preith he moste his dowhter have.The king ayein began to crave,And tolde him the condicion,Hou ferst unto his questionHe mote ansuere and faile noght,Or with his heved it schal be boght:400And he him axeth what it was.Questio Regis Antiochi.The king declareth him the casP. iii. 289With sturne lok and sturdi chiere,1492To him and seide in this manere:Scelere vehor, materna carne vescor, quero patrem meum, matris mee virum, vxoris mee filium.‘With felonie I am upbore,I ete and have it noght forboreMi modres fleissh, whos housebondeMi fader forto seche I fonde,Which is the Sone ek of my wif.Hierof I am inquisitif;410And who that can mi tale save,Al quyt he schal my doghter have;Of his ansuere and if he faile,He schal be ded withoute faile.Forthi my Sone,’ quod the king,‘Be wel avised of this thing,1493Which hath thi lif in jeupartie.’Responsio Appollini.Appolinus for his partie,Whan he this question hath herd,1494Unto the king he hath ansuerd420And hath rehersed on and onThe pointz, and seide therupon:‘The question which thou hast spoke,If thou wolt that it be unloke,It toucheth al the priveteBetwen thin oghne child and thee,And stant al hol upon you tuo.’Indignacio Antiochi super responsione Appolini.1495The king was wonder sory tho,And thoghte, if that he seide it oute,Than were he schamed al aboute.430With slihe wordes and with felleHe seith, ‘Mi Sone, I schal thee telle,P. iii. 290Though that thou be of litel wit,It is no gret merveile as yit,Thin age mai it noght suffise:Bot loke wel thou noght despiseThin oghne lif, for of my graceOf thretty daies fulle a spaceI grante thee, to ben avised.’De recessu Appollini ab Antiochia.And thus with leve and time assised440This yonge Prince forth he wente,And understod wel what it mente,Withinne his herte as he was lered,1496That forto maken him aferedThe king his time hath so deslaied.Wherof he dradde and was esmaied,1497Of treson that he deie scholde,For he the king his sothe tolde;And sodeinly the nyhtes tyde,That more wolde he noght abide,450Al prively his barge he henteAnd hom ayein to Tyr he wente:And in his oghne wit he seideFor drede, if he the king bewreide,He knew so wel the kinges herte,That deth ne scholde he noght asterte,The king him wolde so poursuie.Bot he, that wolde his deth eschuie,And knew al this tofor the hond,Forsake he thoghte his oghne lond,460That there wolde he noght abyde;For wel he knew that on som syde1498P. iii. 291This tirant of his felonieBe som manere of tricherieTo grieve his bodi wol noght leve.De fuga Appolini per mare1499a Regno suo.Forthi withoute take leve,Als priveliche as evere he myhte,1500He goth him to the See be nyhteIn Schipes that be whete laden:1501Here takel redy tho thei maden470And hale up Seil and forth thei fare.1502Bot forto tellen of the careThat thei of Tyr begonne tho,Whan that thei wiste he was ago,It is a Pite forto hiere.They losten lust, they losten chiere,Thei toke upon hem such penaunce,Ther was no song, ther was no daunce,Bot every merthe and melodieTo hem was thanne a maladie;480For unlust of that aventureTher was noman which tok tonsure,In doelful clothes thei hem clothe,1503The bathes and the Stwes botheThei schetten in be every weie;There was no lif which leste pleieNe take of eny joie kepe,Bot for here liege lord to wepe;And every wyht seide as he couthe,‘Helas, the lusti flour of youthe,490Our Prince, oure heved, our governour,Thurgh whom we stoden in honour,1504P. iii. 292Withoute the comun assentThus sodeinliche is fro ous went!’Such was the clamour of hem alle.Nota1505qualiter Thaliartus Miles, vt Appolinum veneno intoxicaret, ab Antiocho in Tyrum missus, ipso ibidem non inuento Antiochiam rediit.Bot se we now what is befalleUpon the ferste tale plein,And torne we therto ayein.Antiochus the grete Sire,Which full of rancour and of ire500His herte berth, so as ye herde,Of that this Prince of Tyr ansuerde,He hadde a feloun bacheler,Which was his prive consailer,And Taliart be name he hihte:1506The king a strong puison him dihteWithinne a buiste and gold therto,1507In alle haste and bad him goStrawht unto Tyr, and for no costNe spare he, til he hadde lost1508510The Prince which he wolde spille.And whan the king hath seid his wille,This Taliart in a Galeie1509With alle haste he tok his weie:The wynd was good, he saileth blyve,Til he tok lond upon the ryveOf Tyr, and forth with al anonInto the Burgh he gan to gon,And tok his In and bod a throwe.Bot for he wolde noght be knowe,520Desguised thanne he goth him oute;He sih the wepinge al aboute,P. iii. 293And axeth what the cause was,And thei him tolden al the cas,How sodeinli the Prince is go.And whan he sih that it was so,And that his labour was in vein,Anon he torneth hom ayein,And to the king, whan he cam nyh,He tolde of that he herde and syh,530Hou that the Prince of Tyr is fled,So was he come ayein unsped.The king was sori for a while,Bot whan he sih that with no wyleHe myhte achieve his crualte,1510He stinte his wraththe and let him be.Qualiter Appolinus in portu Tharsis applicuit, vbi in hospicio cuiusdam magni viri nomine Strangulionis hospitatus est.Bot over this now forto telleOf aventures that befelleUnto this Prince of whom I tolde,1511He hath his rihte cours forth holde540Be Ston and nedle, til he camTo Tharse, and there his lond he nam.A Burgeis riche of gold and feeWas thilke time in that cite,Which cleped was Strangulio,His wif was Dionise also:This yonge Prince, as seith the bok,With hem his herbergage tok;1512And it befell that Cite soBefore time and thanne also,550Thurgh strong famyne which hem laddeWas non that eny whete hadde.P. iii. 294Appolinus, whan that he herde1513The meschief, hou the cite ferde,Al freliche of his oghne yifteHis whete, among hem forto schifte,The which be Schipe he hadde broght,He yaf, and tok of hem riht noght.Bot sithen ferst this world began,Was nevere yit to such a man560Mor joie mad than thei him made:For thei were alle of him so glade,That thei for evere in remembranceMade a figure in resemblanceOf him, and in the comun place1514Thei sette him up, so that his face1515Mihte every maner man beholde,So as the cite was beholde;1516It was of latoun overgilt:Thus hath he noght his yifte spilt.570Qualiter Hellicanus ciuis Tyri Tharsim veniens Appolinum de insidiis Antiochi premuniuit.1517Upon a time with his route1518This lord to pleie goth him oute,And in his weie of Tyr he metteA man, the which on knees him grette,1519And Hellican be name he hihte,Which preide his lord to have insihteUpon himself, and seide him thus,Hou that the grete AntiochusAwaiteth if he mihte him spille.That other thoghte and hield him stille,580And thonked him of his warnynge,And bad him telle no tidinge,1520P. iii. 295Whan he to Tyr cam hom ayein,That he in Tharse him hadde sein.Qualiter Appolinus portum Tharsis relinquens, cum ipse per mare nauigio securiorem quesiuit, superueniente tempestate nauis cum omnibus preter ipsum solum in eadem contentis iuxta Pentapolim periclitabatur.Fortune hath evere be muableAnd mai no while stonde stable:For now it hiheth, now it loweth,Now stant upriht, now overthroweth,Now full of blisse and now of bale,As in the tellinge of mi tale1521590Hierafterward a man mai liere,Which is gret routhe forto hiere.This lord, which wolde don his beste,Withinne himself hath litel reste,And thoghte he wolde his place changeAnd seche a contre more strange.Of Tharsiens his leve anonHe tok, and is to Schipe gon:1522His cours he nam with Seil updrawe,Where as fortune doth the lawe,600And scheweth, as I schal reherse,How sche was to this lord diverse,The which upon the See sche ferketh.The wynd aros, the weder derketh,It blew and made such tempeste,Non ancher mai the schip areste,Which hath tobroken al his gere;The Schipmen stode in such a feere,Was non that myhte himself bestere,Bot evere awaite upon the lere,610Whan that thei scholde drenche at ones.Ther was ynowh withinne wonesP. iii. 296Of wepinge and of sorghe tho;This yonge king makth mochel woSo forto se the Schip travaile:Bot al that myhte him noght availe;The mast tobrak, the Seil torof,The Schip upon the wawes drof,Til that thei sihe a londes cooste.Tho made avou the leste and moste,1523620Be so thei myhten come alonde;Bot he which hath the See on honde,Neptunus, wolde noght acorde,Bot altobroke cable and corde,1524Er thei to londe myhte aproche,
Hic loquitur adhuc contra incestuosos amantum coitus. Et narrat mirabile exemplum de magno Rege Antiocho, qui vxore mortua propriam filiam violauit: et quia filie Matrimonium penes alios impedire voluit, tale ab eo exiit edictum, quod si quis eam in vxorem peteret, nisi ipse prius1481quoddam problema questionis, quam ipse Rex proposuerat, veraciter solueret, capitali sentencia puniretur. Super quo veniens tandem discretus iuuenis princeps Tyri Appolinus questionem soluit; nec tamen filiam habere potuit, set Rex indignatus ipsum propter hoc in mortis odium recollegit. Vnde Appolinus a facie Regis fugiens, quam plura, prout inferius intitulantur, propter amorem pericla passus est.Of a Cronique in daies gon,The which is cleped Pantheon,In loves cause I rede thus,Hou that the grete Antiochus,Of whom that Antioche tokHis ferste name, as seith the bok,Was coupled to a noble queene,And hadde a dowhter hem betwene:Bot such fortune cam to honde,That deth, which no king mai withstonde,280Bot every lif it mote obeie,This worthi queene tok aweie.P. iii. 285The king, which made mochel mone,Tho stod, as who seith, al him oneWithoute wif, bot nathelesHis doghter, which was pierelesOf beaute, duelte aboute him stille.Bot whanne a man hath welthe at wille,The fleissh is frele and falleth ofte,And that this maide tendre and softe,290Which in hire fadres chambres duelte,1482Withinne a time wiste and felte:For likinge and concupiscence1483Withoute insihte of conscienceThe fader so with lustes blente,That he caste al his hole ententeHis oghne doghter forto spille.This king hath leisir at his wille1484With strengthe, and whanne he time sih,This yonge maiden he forlih:300And sche was tendre and full of drede,Sche couthe noght hir MaidenhedeDefende, and thus sche hath forloreThe flour which sche hath longe bore.It helpeth noght althogh sche wepe,For thei that scholde hir bodi kepeOf wommen were absent as thanne;And thus this maiden goth to manne,The wylde fader thus devourethHis oghne fleissh, which non socoureth,1485310And that was cause of mochel care.Bot after this unkinde fareP. iii. 286Out of the chambre goth the king,And sche lay stille, and of this thing,Withinne hirself such sorghe made,Ther was no wiht that mihte hir glade,For feere of thilke horrible vice.With that cam inne the NorriceWhich fro childhode hire hadde kept,And axeth if sche hadde slept,320And why hire chiere was unglad.Bot sche, which hath ben overladOf that sche myhte noght be wreke,For schame couthe unethes speke;And natheles mercy sche preideWith wepende yhe and thus sche seide:‘Helas, mi Soster, waileway,That evere I sih this ilke day!Thing which mi bodi ferst begatInto this world, onliche that330Mi worldes worschipe hath bereft.’With that sche swouneth now and eft,And evere wissheth after deth,So that welnyh hire lacketh breth.That other, which hire wordes herde,In confortinge of hire ansuerde,To lette hire fadres fol desir1486Sche wiste no recoverir:Whan thing is do, ther is no bote,So suffren thei that suffre mote;340Ther was non other which it wiste.Thus hath this king al that him listeP. iii. 287Of his likinge and his plesance,And laste in such continuance,And such delit he tok therinne,Him thoghte that it was no Sinne;And sche dorste him nothing withseie.Bot fame, which goth every weie,To sondry regnes al abouteThe grete beaute telleth oute350Of such a maide of hih parage:So that for love of mariageThe worthi Princes come and sende,As thei the whiche al honour wende,1487And knewe nothing hou it stod.1488The fader, whanne he understod,That thei his dowhter thus besoghte,With al his wit he caste and thoghte1489Hou that he myhte finde a lette;And such a Statut thanne he sette,360And in this wise his lawe he taxeth,That what man that his doghter axeth,1490Bot if he couthe his questionAssoile upon suggestionOf certein thinges that befelle,The whiche he wolde unto him telle,He scholde in certein lese his hed.And thus ther weren manye ded,Here hevedes stondende on the gate,Till ate laste longe and late,370For lacke of ansuere in the wise,1491The remenant that weren wiseP. iii. 288Eschuieden to make assay.De aduentu Appolini in Antiochiam, vbi ipse filiam Regis Antiochi in vxorem postulauit.Til it befell upon a dayAppolinus the Prince of Tyr,Which hath to love a gret desir,As he which in his hihe modWas likende of his hote blod,A yong, a freissh, a lusti knyht,As he lai musende on a nyht380Of the tidinges whiche he herde,He thoghte assaie hou that it ferde.He was with worthi compainieArraied, and with good navieTo schipe he goth, the wynd him dryveth,And seileth, til that he arryveth:Sauf in the port of AntiocheHe londeth, and goth to aprocheThe kinges Court and his presence.Of every naturel science,390Which eny clerk him couthe teche,He couthe ynowh, and in his specheOf wordes he was eloquent;And whanne he sih the king present,He preith he moste his dowhter have.The king ayein began to crave,And tolde him the condicion,Hou ferst unto his questionHe mote ansuere and faile noght,Or with his heved it schal be boght:400And he him axeth what it was.Questio Regis Antiochi.The king declareth him the casP. iii. 289With sturne lok and sturdi chiere,1492To him and seide in this manere:Scelere vehor, materna carne vescor, quero patrem meum, matris mee virum, vxoris mee filium.‘With felonie I am upbore,I ete and have it noght forboreMi modres fleissh, whos housebondeMi fader forto seche I fonde,Which is the Sone ek of my wif.Hierof I am inquisitif;410And who that can mi tale save,Al quyt he schal my doghter have;Of his ansuere and if he faile,He schal be ded withoute faile.Forthi my Sone,’ quod the king,‘Be wel avised of this thing,1493Which hath thi lif in jeupartie.’Responsio Appollini.Appolinus for his partie,Whan he this question hath herd,1494Unto the king he hath ansuerd420And hath rehersed on and onThe pointz, and seide therupon:‘The question which thou hast spoke,If thou wolt that it be unloke,It toucheth al the priveteBetwen thin oghne child and thee,And stant al hol upon you tuo.’Indignacio Antiochi super responsione Appolini.1495The king was wonder sory tho,And thoghte, if that he seide it oute,Than were he schamed al aboute.430With slihe wordes and with felleHe seith, ‘Mi Sone, I schal thee telle,P. iii. 290Though that thou be of litel wit,It is no gret merveile as yit,Thin age mai it noght suffise:Bot loke wel thou noght despiseThin oghne lif, for of my graceOf thretty daies fulle a spaceI grante thee, to ben avised.’De recessu Appollini ab Antiochia.And thus with leve and time assised440This yonge Prince forth he wente,And understod wel what it mente,Withinne his herte as he was lered,1496That forto maken him aferedThe king his time hath so deslaied.Wherof he dradde and was esmaied,1497Of treson that he deie scholde,For he the king his sothe tolde;And sodeinly the nyhtes tyde,That more wolde he noght abide,450Al prively his barge he henteAnd hom ayein to Tyr he wente:And in his oghne wit he seideFor drede, if he the king bewreide,He knew so wel the kinges herte,That deth ne scholde he noght asterte,The king him wolde so poursuie.Bot he, that wolde his deth eschuie,And knew al this tofor the hond,Forsake he thoghte his oghne lond,460That there wolde he noght abyde;For wel he knew that on som syde1498P. iii. 291This tirant of his felonieBe som manere of tricherieTo grieve his bodi wol noght leve.De fuga Appolini per mare1499a Regno suo.Forthi withoute take leve,Als priveliche as evere he myhte,1500He goth him to the See be nyhteIn Schipes that be whete laden:1501Here takel redy tho thei maden470And hale up Seil and forth thei fare.1502Bot forto tellen of the careThat thei of Tyr begonne tho,Whan that thei wiste he was ago,It is a Pite forto hiere.They losten lust, they losten chiere,Thei toke upon hem such penaunce,Ther was no song, ther was no daunce,Bot every merthe and melodieTo hem was thanne a maladie;480For unlust of that aventureTher was noman which tok tonsure,In doelful clothes thei hem clothe,1503The bathes and the Stwes botheThei schetten in be every weie;There was no lif which leste pleieNe take of eny joie kepe,Bot for here liege lord to wepe;And every wyht seide as he couthe,‘Helas, the lusti flour of youthe,490Our Prince, oure heved, our governour,Thurgh whom we stoden in honour,1504P. iii. 292Withoute the comun assentThus sodeinliche is fro ous went!’Such was the clamour of hem alle.Nota1505qualiter Thaliartus Miles, vt Appolinum veneno intoxicaret, ab Antiocho in Tyrum missus, ipso ibidem non inuento Antiochiam rediit.Bot se we now what is befalleUpon the ferste tale plein,And torne we therto ayein.Antiochus the grete Sire,Which full of rancour and of ire500His herte berth, so as ye herde,Of that this Prince of Tyr ansuerde,He hadde a feloun bacheler,Which was his prive consailer,And Taliart be name he hihte:1506The king a strong puison him dihteWithinne a buiste and gold therto,1507In alle haste and bad him goStrawht unto Tyr, and for no costNe spare he, til he hadde lost1508510The Prince which he wolde spille.And whan the king hath seid his wille,This Taliart in a Galeie1509With alle haste he tok his weie:The wynd was good, he saileth blyve,Til he tok lond upon the ryveOf Tyr, and forth with al anonInto the Burgh he gan to gon,And tok his In and bod a throwe.Bot for he wolde noght be knowe,520Desguised thanne he goth him oute;He sih the wepinge al aboute,P. iii. 293And axeth what the cause was,And thei him tolden al the cas,How sodeinli the Prince is go.And whan he sih that it was so,And that his labour was in vein,Anon he torneth hom ayein,And to the king, whan he cam nyh,He tolde of that he herde and syh,530Hou that the Prince of Tyr is fled,So was he come ayein unsped.The king was sori for a while,Bot whan he sih that with no wyleHe myhte achieve his crualte,1510He stinte his wraththe and let him be.Qualiter Appolinus in portu Tharsis applicuit, vbi in hospicio cuiusdam magni viri nomine Strangulionis hospitatus est.Bot over this now forto telleOf aventures that befelleUnto this Prince of whom I tolde,1511He hath his rihte cours forth holde540Be Ston and nedle, til he camTo Tharse, and there his lond he nam.A Burgeis riche of gold and feeWas thilke time in that cite,Which cleped was Strangulio,His wif was Dionise also:This yonge Prince, as seith the bok,With hem his herbergage tok;1512And it befell that Cite soBefore time and thanne also,550Thurgh strong famyne which hem laddeWas non that eny whete hadde.P. iii. 294Appolinus, whan that he herde1513The meschief, hou the cite ferde,Al freliche of his oghne yifteHis whete, among hem forto schifte,The which be Schipe he hadde broght,He yaf, and tok of hem riht noght.Bot sithen ferst this world began,Was nevere yit to such a man560Mor joie mad than thei him made:For thei were alle of him so glade,That thei for evere in remembranceMade a figure in resemblanceOf him, and in the comun place1514Thei sette him up, so that his face1515Mihte every maner man beholde,So as the cite was beholde;1516It was of latoun overgilt:Thus hath he noght his yifte spilt.570Qualiter Hellicanus ciuis Tyri Tharsim veniens Appolinum de insidiis Antiochi premuniuit.1517Upon a time with his route1518This lord to pleie goth him oute,And in his weie of Tyr he metteA man, the which on knees him grette,1519And Hellican be name he hihte,Which preide his lord to have insihteUpon himself, and seide him thus,Hou that the grete AntiochusAwaiteth if he mihte him spille.That other thoghte and hield him stille,580And thonked him of his warnynge,And bad him telle no tidinge,1520P. iii. 295Whan he to Tyr cam hom ayein,That he in Tharse him hadde sein.Qualiter Appolinus portum Tharsis relinquens, cum ipse per mare nauigio securiorem quesiuit, superueniente tempestate nauis cum omnibus preter ipsum solum in eadem contentis iuxta Pentapolim periclitabatur.Fortune hath evere be muableAnd mai no while stonde stable:For now it hiheth, now it loweth,Now stant upriht, now overthroweth,Now full of blisse and now of bale,As in the tellinge of mi tale1521590Hierafterward a man mai liere,Which is gret routhe forto hiere.This lord, which wolde don his beste,Withinne himself hath litel reste,And thoghte he wolde his place changeAnd seche a contre more strange.Of Tharsiens his leve anonHe tok, and is to Schipe gon:1522His cours he nam with Seil updrawe,Where as fortune doth the lawe,600And scheweth, as I schal reherse,How sche was to this lord diverse,The which upon the See sche ferketh.The wynd aros, the weder derketh,It blew and made such tempeste,Non ancher mai the schip areste,Which hath tobroken al his gere;The Schipmen stode in such a feere,Was non that myhte himself bestere,Bot evere awaite upon the lere,610Whan that thei scholde drenche at ones.Ther was ynowh withinne wonesP. iii. 296Of wepinge and of sorghe tho;This yonge king makth mochel woSo forto se the Schip travaile:Bot al that myhte him noght availe;The mast tobrak, the Seil torof,The Schip upon the wawes drof,Til that thei sihe a londes cooste.Tho made avou the leste and moste,1523620Be so thei myhten come alonde;Bot he which hath the See on honde,Neptunus, wolde noght acorde,Bot altobroke cable and corde,1524Er thei to londe myhte aproche,
Hic loquitur adhuc contra incestuosos amantum coitus. Et narrat mirabile exemplum de magno Rege Antiocho, qui vxore mortua propriam filiam violauit: et quia filie Matrimonium penes alios impedire voluit, tale ab eo exiit edictum, quod si quis eam in vxorem peteret, nisi ipse prius1481quoddam problema questionis, quam ipse Rex proposuerat, veraciter solueret, capitali sentencia puniretur. Super quo veniens tandem discretus iuuenis princeps Tyri Appolinus questionem soluit; nec tamen filiam habere potuit, set Rex indignatus ipsum propter hoc in mortis odium recollegit. Vnde Appolinus a facie Regis fugiens, quam plura, prout inferius intitulantur, propter amorem pericla passus est.Of a Cronique in daies gon,The which is cleped Pantheon,In loves cause I rede thus,Hou that the grete Antiochus,Of whom that Antioche tokHis ferste name, as seith the bok,Was coupled to a noble queene,And hadde a dowhter hem betwene:Bot such fortune cam to honde,That deth, which no king mai withstonde,280Bot every lif it mote obeie,This worthi queene tok aweie.P. iii. 285The king, which made mochel mone,Tho stod, as who seith, al him oneWithoute wif, bot nathelesHis doghter, which was pierelesOf beaute, duelte aboute him stille.Bot whanne a man hath welthe at wille,The fleissh is frele and falleth ofte,And that this maide tendre and softe,290Which in hire fadres chambres duelte,1482Withinne a time wiste and felte:For likinge and concupiscence1483Withoute insihte of conscienceThe fader so with lustes blente,That he caste al his hole ententeHis oghne doghter forto spille.This king hath leisir at his wille1484With strengthe, and whanne he time sih,This yonge maiden he forlih:300And sche was tendre and full of drede,Sche couthe noght hir MaidenhedeDefende, and thus sche hath forloreThe flour which sche hath longe bore.It helpeth noght althogh sche wepe,For thei that scholde hir bodi kepeOf wommen were absent as thanne;And thus this maiden goth to manne,The wylde fader thus devourethHis oghne fleissh, which non socoureth,1485310And that was cause of mochel care.Bot after this unkinde fareP. iii. 286Out of the chambre goth the king,And sche lay stille, and of this thing,Withinne hirself such sorghe made,Ther was no wiht that mihte hir glade,For feere of thilke horrible vice.With that cam inne the NorriceWhich fro childhode hire hadde kept,And axeth if sche hadde slept,320And why hire chiere was unglad.Bot sche, which hath ben overladOf that sche myhte noght be wreke,For schame couthe unethes speke;And natheles mercy sche preideWith wepende yhe and thus sche seide:‘Helas, mi Soster, waileway,That evere I sih this ilke day!Thing which mi bodi ferst begatInto this world, onliche that330Mi worldes worschipe hath bereft.’With that sche swouneth now and eft,And evere wissheth after deth,So that welnyh hire lacketh breth.That other, which hire wordes herde,In confortinge of hire ansuerde,To lette hire fadres fol desir1486Sche wiste no recoverir:Whan thing is do, ther is no bote,So suffren thei that suffre mote;340Ther was non other which it wiste.Thus hath this king al that him listeP. iii. 287Of his likinge and his plesance,And laste in such continuance,And such delit he tok therinne,Him thoghte that it was no Sinne;And sche dorste him nothing withseie.Bot fame, which goth every weie,To sondry regnes al abouteThe grete beaute telleth oute350Of such a maide of hih parage:So that for love of mariageThe worthi Princes come and sende,As thei the whiche al honour wende,1487And knewe nothing hou it stod.1488The fader, whanne he understod,That thei his dowhter thus besoghte,With al his wit he caste and thoghte1489Hou that he myhte finde a lette;And such a Statut thanne he sette,360And in this wise his lawe he taxeth,That what man that his doghter axeth,1490Bot if he couthe his questionAssoile upon suggestionOf certein thinges that befelle,The whiche he wolde unto him telle,He scholde in certein lese his hed.And thus ther weren manye ded,Here hevedes stondende on the gate,Till ate laste longe and late,370For lacke of ansuere in the wise,1491The remenant that weren wiseP. iii. 288Eschuieden to make assay.De aduentu Appolini in Antiochiam, vbi ipse filiam Regis Antiochi in vxorem postulauit.Til it befell upon a dayAppolinus the Prince of Tyr,Which hath to love a gret desir,As he which in his hihe modWas likende of his hote blod,A yong, a freissh, a lusti knyht,As he lai musende on a nyht380Of the tidinges whiche he herde,He thoghte assaie hou that it ferde.He was with worthi compainieArraied, and with good navieTo schipe he goth, the wynd him dryveth,And seileth, til that he arryveth:Sauf in the port of AntiocheHe londeth, and goth to aprocheThe kinges Court and his presence.Of every naturel science,390Which eny clerk him couthe teche,He couthe ynowh, and in his specheOf wordes he was eloquent;And whanne he sih the king present,He preith he moste his dowhter have.The king ayein began to crave,And tolde him the condicion,Hou ferst unto his questionHe mote ansuere and faile noght,Or with his heved it schal be boght:400And he him axeth what it was.Questio Regis Antiochi.The king declareth him the casP. iii. 289With sturne lok and sturdi chiere,1492To him and seide in this manere:Scelere vehor, materna carne vescor, quero patrem meum, matris mee virum, vxoris mee filium.‘With felonie I am upbore,I ete and have it noght forboreMi modres fleissh, whos housebondeMi fader forto seche I fonde,Which is the Sone ek of my wif.Hierof I am inquisitif;410And who that can mi tale save,Al quyt he schal my doghter have;Of his ansuere and if he faile,He schal be ded withoute faile.Forthi my Sone,’ quod the king,‘Be wel avised of this thing,1493Which hath thi lif in jeupartie.’Responsio Appollini.Appolinus for his partie,Whan he this question hath herd,1494Unto the king he hath ansuerd420And hath rehersed on and onThe pointz, and seide therupon:‘The question which thou hast spoke,If thou wolt that it be unloke,It toucheth al the priveteBetwen thin oghne child and thee,And stant al hol upon you tuo.’Indignacio Antiochi super responsione Appolini.1495The king was wonder sory tho,And thoghte, if that he seide it oute,Than were he schamed al aboute.430With slihe wordes and with felleHe seith, ‘Mi Sone, I schal thee telle,P. iii. 290Though that thou be of litel wit,It is no gret merveile as yit,Thin age mai it noght suffise:Bot loke wel thou noght despiseThin oghne lif, for of my graceOf thretty daies fulle a spaceI grante thee, to ben avised.’De recessu Appollini ab Antiochia.And thus with leve and time assised440This yonge Prince forth he wente,And understod wel what it mente,Withinne his herte as he was lered,1496That forto maken him aferedThe king his time hath so deslaied.Wherof he dradde and was esmaied,1497Of treson that he deie scholde,For he the king his sothe tolde;And sodeinly the nyhtes tyde,That more wolde he noght abide,450Al prively his barge he henteAnd hom ayein to Tyr he wente:And in his oghne wit he seideFor drede, if he the king bewreide,He knew so wel the kinges herte,That deth ne scholde he noght asterte,The king him wolde so poursuie.Bot he, that wolde his deth eschuie,And knew al this tofor the hond,Forsake he thoghte his oghne lond,460That there wolde he noght abyde;For wel he knew that on som syde1498P. iii. 291This tirant of his felonieBe som manere of tricherieTo grieve his bodi wol noght leve.De fuga Appolini per mare1499a Regno suo.Forthi withoute take leve,Als priveliche as evere he myhte,1500He goth him to the See be nyhteIn Schipes that be whete laden:1501Here takel redy tho thei maden470And hale up Seil and forth thei fare.1502Bot forto tellen of the careThat thei of Tyr begonne tho,Whan that thei wiste he was ago,It is a Pite forto hiere.They losten lust, they losten chiere,Thei toke upon hem such penaunce,Ther was no song, ther was no daunce,Bot every merthe and melodieTo hem was thanne a maladie;480For unlust of that aventureTher was noman which tok tonsure,In doelful clothes thei hem clothe,1503The bathes and the Stwes botheThei schetten in be every weie;There was no lif which leste pleieNe take of eny joie kepe,Bot for here liege lord to wepe;And every wyht seide as he couthe,‘Helas, the lusti flour of youthe,490Our Prince, oure heved, our governour,Thurgh whom we stoden in honour,1504P. iii. 292Withoute the comun assentThus sodeinliche is fro ous went!’Such was the clamour of hem alle.Nota1505qualiter Thaliartus Miles, vt Appolinum veneno intoxicaret, ab Antiocho in Tyrum missus, ipso ibidem non inuento Antiochiam rediit.Bot se we now what is befalleUpon the ferste tale plein,And torne we therto ayein.Antiochus the grete Sire,Which full of rancour and of ire500His herte berth, so as ye herde,Of that this Prince of Tyr ansuerde,He hadde a feloun bacheler,Which was his prive consailer,And Taliart be name he hihte:1506The king a strong puison him dihteWithinne a buiste and gold therto,1507In alle haste and bad him goStrawht unto Tyr, and for no costNe spare he, til he hadde lost1508510The Prince which he wolde spille.And whan the king hath seid his wille,This Taliart in a Galeie1509With alle haste he tok his weie:The wynd was good, he saileth blyve,Til he tok lond upon the ryveOf Tyr, and forth with al anonInto the Burgh he gan to gon,And tok his In and bod a throwe.Bot for he wolde noght be knowe,520Desguised thanne he goth him oute;He sih the wepinge al aboute,P. iii. 293And axeth what the cause was,And thei him tolden al the cas,How sodeinli the Prince is go.And whan he sih that it was so,And that his labour was in vein,Anon he torneth hom ayein,And to the king, whan he cam nyh,He tolde of that he herde and syh,530Hou that the Prince of Tyr is fled,So was he come ayein unsped.The king was sori for a while,Bot whan he sih that with no wyleHe myhte achieve his crualte,1510He stinte his wraththe and let him be.Qualiter Appolinus in portu Tharsis applicuit, vbi in hospicio cuiusdam magni viri nomine Strangulionis hospitatus est.Bot over this now forto telleOf aventures that befelleUnto this Prince of whom I tolde,1511He hath his rihte cours forth holde540Be Ston and nedle, til he camTo Tharse, and there his lond he nam.A Burgeis riche of gold and feeWas thilke time in that cite,Which cleped was Strangulio,His wif was Dionise also:This yonge Prince, as seith the bok,With hem his herbergage tok;1512And it befell that Cite soBefore time and thanne also,550Thurgh strong famyne which hem laddeWas non that eny whete hadde.P. iii. 294Appolinus, whan that he herde1513The meschief, hou the cite ferde,Al freliche of his oghne yifteHis whete, among hem forto schifte,The which be Schipe he hadde broght,He yaf, and tok of hem riht noght.Bot sithen ferst this world began,Was nevere yit to such a man560Mor joie mad than thei him made:For thei were alle of him so glade,That thei for evere in remembranceMade a figure in resemblanceOf him, and in the comun place1514Thei sette him up, so that his face1515Mihte every maner man beholde,So as the cite was beholde;1516It was of latoun overgilt:Thus hath he noght his yifte spilt.570Qualiter Hellicanus ciuis Tyri Tharsim veniens Appolinum de insidiis Antiochi premuniuit.1517Upon a time with his route1518This lord to pleie goth him oute,And in his weie of Tyr he metteA man, the which on knees him grette,1519And Hellican be name he hihte,Which preide his lord to have insihteUpon himself, and seide him thus,Hou that the grete AntiochusAwaiteth if he mihte him spille.That other thoghte and hield him stille,580And thonked him of his warnynge,And bad him telle no tidinge,1520P. iii. 295Whan he to Tyr cam hom ayein,That he in Tharse him hadde sein.Qualiter Appolinus portum Tharsis relinquens, cum ipse per mare nauigio securiorem quesiuit, superueniente tempestate nauis cum omnibus preter ipsum solum in eadem contentis iuxta Pentapolim periclitabatur.Fortune hath evere be muableAnd mai no while stonde stable:For now it hiheth, now it loweth,Now stant upriht, now overthroweth,Now full of blisse and now of bale,As in the tellinge of mi tale1521590Hierafterward a man mai liere,Which is gret routhe forto hiere.This lord, which wolde don his beste,Withinne himself hath litel reste,And thoghte he wolde his place changeAnd seche a contre more strange.Of Tharsiens his leve anonHe tok, and is to Schipe gon:1522His cours he nam with Seil updrawe,Where as fortune doth the lawe,600And scheweth, as I schal reherse,How sche was to this lord diverse,The which upon the See sche ferketh.The wynd aros, the weder derketh,It blew and made such tempeste,Non ancher mai the schip areste,Which hath tobroken al his gere;The Schipmen stode in such a feere,Was non that myhte himself bestere,Bot evere awaite upon the lere,610Whan that thei scholde drenche at ones.Ther was ynowh withinne wonesP. iii. 296Of wepinge and of sorghe tho;This yonge king makth mochel woSo forto se the Schip travaile:Bot al that myhte him noght availe;The mast tobrak, the Seil torof,The Schip upon the wawes drof,Til that thei sihe a londes cooste.Tho made avou the leste and moste,1523620Be so thei myhten come alonde;Bot he which hath the See on honde,Neptunus, wolde noght acorde,Bot altobroke cable and corde,1524Er thei to londe myhte aproche,
Hic loquitur adhuc contra incestuosos amantum coitus. Et narrat mirabile exemplum de magno Rege Antiocho, qui vxore mortua propriam filiam violauit: et quia filie Matrimonium penes alios impedire voluit, tale ab eo exiit edictum, quod si quis eam in vxorem peteret, nisi ipse prius1481quoddam problema questionis, quam ipse Rex proposuerat, veraciter solueret, capitali sentencia puniretur. Super quo veniens tandem discretus iuuenis princeps Tyri Appolinus questionem soluit; nec tamen filiam habere potuit, set Rex indignatus ipsum propter hoc in mortis odium recollegit. Vnde Appolinus a facie Regis fugiens, quam plura, prout inferius intitulantur, propter amorem pericla passus est.
Of a Cronique in daies gon,
The which is cleped Pantheon,
In loves cause I rede thus,
Hou that the grete Antiochus,
Of whom that Antioche tok
His ferste name, as seith the bok,
Was coupled to a noble queene,
And hadde a dowhter hem betwene:
Bot such fortune cam to honde,
That deth, which no king mai withstonde,280
Bot every lif it mote obeie,
This worthi queene tok aweie.
P. iii. 285
The king, which made mochel mone,
Tho stod, as who seith, al him one
Withoute wif, bot natheles
His doghter, which was piereles
Of beaute, duelte aboute him stille.
Bot whanne a man hath welthe at wille,
The fleissh is frele and falleth ofte,
And that this maide tendre and softe,290
Which in hire fadres chambres duelte,1482
Withinne a time wiste and felte:
For likinge and concupiscence1483
Withoute insihte of conscience
The fader so with lustes blente,
That he caste al his hole entente
His oghne doghter forto spille.
This king hath leisir at his wille1484
With strengthe, and whanne he time sih,
This yonge maiden he forlih:300
And sche was tendre and full of drede,
Sche couthe noght hir Maidenhede
Defende, and thus sche hath forlore
The flour which sche hath longe bore.
It helpeth noght althogh sche wepe,
For thei that scholde hir bodi kepe
Of wommen were absent as thanne;
And thus this maiden goth to manne,
The wylde fader thus devoureth
His oghne fleissh, which non socoureth,1485310
And that was cause of mochel care.
Bot after this unkinde fare
P. iii. 286
Out of the chambre goth the king,
And sche lay stille, and of this thing,
Withinne hirself such sorghe made,
Ther was no wiht that mihte hir glade,
For feere of thilke horrible vice.
With that cam inne the Norrice
Which fro childhode hire hadde kept,
And axeth if sche hadde slept,320
And why hire chiere was unglad.
Bot sche, which hath ben overlad
Of that sche myhte noght be wreke,
For schame couthe unethes speke;
And natheles mercy sche preide
With wepende yhe and thus sche seide:
‘Helas, mi Soster, waileway,
That evere I sih this ilke day!
Thing which mi bodi ferst begat
Into this world, onliche that330
Mi worldes worschipe hath bereft.’
With that sche swouneth now and eft,
And evere wissheth after deth,
So that welnyh hire lacketh breth.
That other, which hire wordes herde,
In confortinge of hire ansuerde,
To lette hire fadres fol desir1486
Sche wiste no recoverir:
Whan thing is do, ther is no bote,
So suffren thei that suffre mote;340
Ther was non other which it wiste.
Thus hath this king al that him liste
P. iii. 287
Of his likinge and his plesance,
And laste in such continuance,
And such delit he tok therinne,
Him thoghte that it was no Sinne;
And sche dorste him nothing withseie.
Bot fame, which goth every weie,
To sondry regnes al aboute
The grete beaute telleth oute350
Of such a maide of hih parage:
So that for love of mariage
The worthi Princes come and sende,
As thei the whiche al honour wende,1487
And knewe nothing hou it stod.1488
The fader, whanne he understod,
That thei his dowhter thus besoghte,
With al his wit he caste and thoghte1489
Hou that he myhte finde a lette;
And such a Statut thanne he sette,360
And in this wise his lawe he taxeth,
That what man that his doghter axeth,1490
Bot if he couthe his question
Assoile upon suggestion
Of certein thinges that befelle,
The whiche he wolde unto him telle,
He scholde in certein lese his hed.
And thus ther weren manye ded,
Here hevedes stondende on the gate,
Till ate laste longe and late,370
For lacke of ansuere in the wise,1491
The remenant that weren wise
P. iii. 288
Eschuieden to make assay.
De aduentu Appolini in Antiochiam, vbi ipse filiam Regis Antiochi in vxorem postulauit.
Til it befell upon a day
Appolinus the Prince of Tyr,
Which hath to love a gret desir,
As he which in his hihe mod
Was likende of his hote blod,
A yong, a freissh, a lusti knyht,
As he lai musende on a nyht380
Of the tidinges whiche he herde,
He thoghte assaie hou that it ferde.
He was with worthi compainie
Arraied, and with good navie
To schipe he goth, the wynd him dryveth,
And seileth, til that he arryveth:
Sauf in the port of Antioche
He londeth, and goth to aproche
The kinges Court and his presence.
Of every naturel science,390
Which eny clerk him couthe teche,
He couthe ynowh, and in his speche
Of wordes he was eloquent;
And whanne he sih the king present,
He preith he moste his dowhter have.
The king ayein began to crave,
And tolde him the condicion,
Hou ferst unto his question
He mote ansuere and faile noght,
Or with his heved it schal be boght:400
And he him axeth what it was.
Questio Regis Antiochi.
The king declareth him the cas
P. iii. 289
With sturne lok and sturdi chiere,1492
To him and seide in this manere:
Scelere vehor, materna carne vescor, quero patrem meum, matris mee virum, vxoris mee filium.
‘With felonie I am upbore,
I ete and have it noght forbore
Mi modres fleissh, whos housebonde
Mi fader forto seche I fonde,
Which is the Sone ek of my wif.
Hierof I am inquisitif;410
And who that can mi tale save,
Al quyt he schal my doghter have;
Of his ansuere and if he faile,
He schal be ded withoute faile.
Forthi my Sone,’ quod the king,
‘Be wel avised of this thing,1493
Which hath thi lif in jeupartie.’
Responsio Appollini.
Appolinus for his partie,
Whan he this question hath herd,1494
Unto the king he hath ansuerd420
And hath rehersed on and on
The pointz, and seide therupon:
‘The question which thou hast spoke,
If thou wolt that it be unloke,
It toucheth al the privete
Betwen thin oghne child and thee,
And stant al hol upon you tuo.’
Indignacio Antiochi super responsione Appolini.1495
The king was wonder sory tho,
And thoghte, if that he seide it oute,
Than were he schamed al aboute.430
With slihe wordes and with felle
He seith, ‘Mi Sone, I schal thee telle,
P. iii. 290
Though that thou be of litel wit,
It is no gret merveile as yit,
Thin age mai it noght suffise:
Bot loke wel thou noght despise
Thin oghne lif, for of my grace
Of thretty daies fulle a space
I grante thee, to ben avised.’
De recessu Appollini ab Antiochia.
And thus with leve and time assised440
This yonge Prince forth he wente,
And understod wel what it mente,
Withinne his herte as he was lered,1496
That forto maken him afered
The king his time hath so deslaied.
Wherof he dradde and was esmaied,1497
Of treson that he deie scholde,
For he the king his sothe tolde;
And sodeinly the nyhtes tyde,
That more wolde he noght abide,450
Al prively his barge he hente
And hom ayein to Tyr he wente:
And in his oghne wit he seide
For drede, if he the king bewreide,
He knew so wel the kinges herte,
That deth ne scholde he noght asterte,
The king him wolde so poursuie.
Bot he, that wolde his deth eschuie,
And knew al this tofor the hond,
Forsake he thoghte his oghne lond,460
That there wolde he noght abyde;
For wel he knew that on som syde1498
P. iii. 291
This tirant of his felonie
Be som manere of tricherie
To grieve his bodi wol noght leve.
De fuga Appolini per mare1499a Regno suo.
Forthi withoute take leve,
Als priveliche as evere he myhte,1500
He goth him to the See be nyhte
In Schipes that be whete laden:1501
Here takel redy tho thei maden470
And hale up Seil and forth thei fare.1502
Bot forto tellen of the care
That thei of Tyr begonne tho,
Whan that thei wiste he was ago,
It is a Pite forto hiere.
They losten lust, they losten chiere,
Thei toke upon hem such penaunce,
Ther was no song, ther was no daunce,
Bot every merthe and melodie
To hem was thanne a maladie;480
For unlust of that aventure
Ther was noman which tok tonsure,
In doelful clothes thei hem clothe,1503
The bathes and the Stwes bothe
Thei schetten in be every weie;
There was no lif which leste pleie
Ne take of eny joie kepe,
Bot for here liege lord to wepe;
And every wyht seide as he couthe,
‘Helas, the lusti flour of youthe,490
Our Prince, oure heved, our governour,
Thurgh whom we stoden in honour,1504
P. iii. 292
Withoute the comun assent
Thus sodeinliche is fro ous went!’
Such was the clamour of hem alle.
Nota1505qualiter Thaliartus Miles, vt Appolinum veneno intoxicaret, ab Antiocho in Tyrum missus, ipso ibidem non inuento Antiochiam rediit.
Bot se we now what is befalle
Upon the ferste tale plein,
And torne we therto ayein.
Antiochus the grete Sire,
Which full of rancour and of ire500
His herte berth, so as ye herde,
Of that this Prince of Tyr ansuerde,
He hadde a feloun bacheler,
Which was his prive consailer,
And Taliart be name he hihte:1506
The king a strong puison him dihte
Withinne a buiste and gold therto,1507
In alle haste and bad him go
Strawht unto Tyr, and for no cost
Ne spare he, til he hadde lost1508510
The Prince which he wolde spille.
And whan the king hath seid his wille,
This Taliart in a Galeie1509
With alle haste he tok his weie:
The wynd was good, he saileth blyve,
Til he tok lond upon the ryve
Of Tyr, and forth with al anon
Into the Burgh he gan to gon,
And tok his In and bod a throwe.
Bot for he wolde noght be knowe,520
Desguised thanne he goth him oute;
He sih the wepinge al aboute,
P. iii. 293
And axeth what the cause was,
And thei him tolden al the cas,
How sodeinli the Prince is go.
And whan he sih that it was so,
And that his labour was in vein,
Anon he torneth hom ayein,
And to the king, whan he cam nyh,
He tolde of that he herde and syh,530
Hou that the Prince of Tyr is fled,
So was he come ayein unsped.
The king was sori for a while,
Bot whan he sih that with no wyle
He myhte achieve his crualte,1510
He stinte his wraththe and let him be.
Qualiter Appolinus in portu Tharsis applicuit, vbi in hospicio cuiusdam magni viri nomine Strangulionis hospitatus est.
Bot over this now forto telle
Of aventures that befelle
Unto this Prince of whom I tolde,1511
He hath his rihte cours forth holde540
Be Ston and nedle, til he cam
To Tharse, and there his lond he nam.
A Burgeis riche of gold and fee
Was thilke time in that cite,
Which cleped was Strangulio,
His wif was Dionise also:
This yonge Prince, as seith the bok,
With hem his herbergage tok;1512
And it befell that Cite so
Before time and thanne also,550
Thurgh strong famyne which hem ladde
Was non that eny whete hadde.
P. iii. 294
Appolinus, whan that he herde1513
The meschief, hou the cite ferde,
Al freliche of his oghne yifte
His whete, among hem forto schifte,
The which be Schipe he hadde broght,
He yaf, and tok of hem riht noght.
Bot sithen ferst this world began,
Was nevere yit to such a man560
Mor joie mad than thei him made:
For thei were alle of him so glade,
That thei for evere in remembrance
Made a figure in resemblance
Of him, and in the comun place1514
Thei sette him up, so that his face1515
Mihte every maner man beholde,
So as the cite was beholde;1516
It was of latoun overgilt:
Thus hath he noght his yifte spilt.570
Qualiter Hellicanus ciuis Tyri Tharsim veniens Appolinum de insidiis Antiochi premuniuit.1517
Upon a time with his route1518
This lord to pleie goth him oute,
And in his weie of Tyr he mette
A man, the which on knees him grette,1519
And Hellican be name he hihte,
Which preide his lord to have insihte
Upon himself, and seide him thus,
Hou that the grete Antiochus
Awaiteth if he mihte him spille.
That other thoghte and hield him stille,580
And thonked him of his warnynge,
And bad him telle no tidinge,1520
P. iii. 295
Whan he to Tyr cam hom ayein,
That he in Tharse him hadde sein.
Qualiter Appolinus portum Tharsis relinquens, cum ipse per mare nauigio securiorem quesiuit, superueniente tempestate nauis cum omnibus preter ipsum solum in eadem contentis iuxta Pentapolim periclitabatur.
Fortune hath evere be muable
And mai no while stonde stable:
For now it hiheth, now it loweth,
Now stant upriht, now overthroweth,
Now full of blisse and now of bale,
As in the tellinge of mi tale1521590
Hierafterward a man mai liere,
Which is gret routhe forto hiere.
This lord, which wolde don his beste,
Withinne himself hath litel reste,
And thoghte he wolde his place change
And seche a contre more strange.
Of Tharsiens his leve anon
He tok, and is to Schipe gon:1522
His cours he nam with Seil updrawe,
Where as fortune doth the lawe,600
And scheweth, as I schal reherse,
How sche was to this lord diverse,
The which upon the See sche ferketh.
The wynd aros, the weder derketh,
It blew and made such tempeste,
Non ancher mai the schip areste,
Which hath tobroken al his gere;
The Schipmen stode in such a feere,
Was non that myhte himself bestere,
Bot evere awaite upon the lere,610
Whan that thei scholde drenche at ones.
Ther was ynowh withinne wones
P. iii. 296
Of wepinge and of sorghe tho;
This yonge king makth mochel wo
So forto se the Schip travaile:
Bot al that myhte him noght availe;
The mast tobrak, the Seil torof,
The Schip upon the wawes drof,
Til that thei sihe a londes cooste.
Tho made avou the leste and moste,1523620
Be so thei myhten come alonde;
Bot he which hath the See on honde,
Neptunus, wolde noght acorde,
Bot altobroke cable and corde,1524
Er thei to londe myhte aproche,