Of Penonceals a riche rewe.Thei axen when the schip is come:Fro Tyr, anon ansuerde some,990And over this thei seiden moreThe cause why thei comen foreWas forto seche and forto findeAppolinus, which was of kinde1566Her liege lord: and he appiereth,And of the tale which he hierethHe was riht glad; for thei him tolde,That for vengance, as god it wolde,Antiochus, as men mai wite,With thondre and lyhthnynge is forsmite;15671000His doghter hath the same chaunce,So be thei bothe in o balance.P. iii. 309‘Forthi, oure liege lord, we seieIn name of al the lond, and preie,That left al other thing to done,It like you to come soneAnd se youre oghne liege menWith othre that ben of youre ken,That live in longinge and desir1568Til ye be come ayein to Tyr.’1010This tale after the king it haddePentapolim al overspradde,Ther was no joie forto seche;For every man it hadde in specheAnd seiden alle of on acord,‘A worthi king schal ben oure lord:That thoghte ous ferst an hevinesseIs schape ous now to gret gladnesse.’Thus goth the tidinge overal.Qualiter Appolino cum vxore sua impregnata a Pentapoli versus Tyrum nauigantibus, contigit vxorem, mortis articulo angustiatam, in naui filiam, que postea Thaisis vocabatur, parere.Bot nede he mot, that nede schal:1020Appolinus his leve tok,To god and al the lond betokWith al the poeple long and brod,That he no lenger there abod.1569The king and queene sorwe made,Bot yit somdiel thei weren gladeOf such thing as thei herden tho:And thus betwen the wel and woTo schip he goth, his wif with childe,The which was evere meke and mylde1030And wolde noght departe him fro,Such love was betwen hem tuo.P. iii. 310Lichorida for hire officeWas take, which was a Norrice,To wende with this yonge wif,To whom was schape a woful lif.Withinne a time, as it betidde,Whan thei were in the See amidde,Out of the North they sihe a cloude;The storm aros, the wyndes loude1040Thei blewen many a dredful blast,The welkne was al overcast,The derke nyht the Sonne hath under,Ther was a gret tempeste of thunder:The Mone and ek the Sterres botheIn blake cloudes thei hem clothe,Wherof here brihte lok thei hyde.1570This yonge ladi wepte and cride,To whom no confort myhte availe;Of childe sche began travaile,1050Wher sche lay in a Caban clos:Hire woful lord fro hire aros,And that was longe er eny morwe,So that in anguisse and in sorweSche was delivered al be nyhteAnd ded in every mannes syhte;1571Bot natheles for al this woA maide child was bore tho.Qualiter Appolinus vxoris sue mortem planxit.Appolinus whan he this knew,For sorwe a swoune he overthrew,15721060That noman wiste in him no lif.And whanne he wok, he seide, ‘Ha, wif,P. iii. 311Mi lust, mi joie, my desir,1573Mi welthe and my recoverir,Why schal I live, and thou schalt dye?Ha, thou fortune, I thee deffie,Nou hast thou do to me thi werste.Ha, herte, why ne wolt thou berste,That forth with hire I myhte passe?1574Mi peines weren wel the lasse.’1070In such wepinge and in such cryHis dede wif, which lay him by,A thousend sithes he hire kiste;Was nevere man that sih ne wisteA sorwe unto his sorwe lich;For evere among upon the lich1575He fell swounende, as he that soghteHis oghne deth, which he besoghteUnto the goddes alle aboveWith many a pitous word of love;1080Bot suche wordes as tho wereYit herde nevere mannes Ere,Bot only thilke whiche he seide.The Maister Schipman cam and preideWith othre suche as be therinne,And sein that he mai nothing winneAyein the deth, bot thei him rede,He be wel war and tak hiede,The See be weie of his natureReceive mai no creature1090Withinne himself as forto holde,The which is ded: forthi thei wolde,P. iii. 312As thei conseilen al aboute,The dede body casten oute.For betre it is, thei seiden alle,That it of hire so befalle,Than if thei scholden alle spille.The king, which understod here wille1576Qualiter suadentibus nautis corpus vxoris sue mortue in quadam Cista plumbo et ferro obtusa1577que circumligata Appolinus cum magno thesauro vna cum quadam littera sub eius capite scripta recludi et in mare1578proici fecit.And knew here conseil that was trewe,Began ayein his sorwe newe1100With pitous herte, and thus to seie:‘It is al reson that ye preie.I am,’ quod he, ‘bot on al one,So wolde I noght for mi personeTher felle such adversite.Bot whan it mai no betre be,Doth thanne thus upon my word,1579Let make a cofre strong of bord,That it be ferm with led and pich.’Anon was mad a cofre sich,15801110Al redy broght unto his hond;And whanne he sih and redy fondThis cofre mad and wel enclowed,The dede bodi was besowedIn cloth of gold and leid therinne.And for he wolde unto hire winneUpon som cooste a Sepulture,Under hire heved in aventureOf gold he leide Sommes greteAnd of jeueals a strong beyete15811120Forth with a lettre, and seide thus:Copia littere Appolini capiti vxoris sue supposite.‘I, king of Tyr Appollinus,P. iii. 313Do alle maner men to wite,That hiere and se this lettre write,That helpeles withoute redHier lith a kinges doghter ded:And who that happeth hir to finde,For charite tak in his mynde,1582And do so that sche be begraveWith this tresor, which he schal have.’1130Thus whan the lettre was full spoke,1583Thei haue anon the cofre stoke,And bounden it with yren faste,That it may with the wawes laste,And stoppen it be such a weie,That it schal be withinne dreie,So that no water myhte it grieve.And thus in hope and good believeOf that the corps schal wel aryve,Thei caste it over bord als blyve.1140Qualiter Appolinus, vxoris sue corpore in mare proiecto, Tyrum relinquens cursum suum versus Tharsim nauigio dolens arripuit.The Schip forth on the wawes wente;The prince hath changed his entente,1584And seith he wol noght come at TyrAs thanne, bot al his desirIs ferst to seilen unto Tharse.The wyndy Storm began to skarse,The Sonne arist, the weder cliereth,The Schipman which behinde stiereth,Whan that he sih the wyndes saghte,Towardes Tharse his cours he straghte.1150Qualiter corpus predicte defuncte super litus apud Ephesim quidam medicus nomine Cerymon cum aliquibus suis discipulis inuenit; quod in hospicium suum1585portans et extra cistam ponens, spiraculo vite in ea adhuc inuento, ipsam plene sanitati restituit.Bot now to mi matiere ayein,To telle as olde bokes sein,P. iii. 314This dede corps of which ye knoweWith wynd and water was forthroweNow hier, now ther, til ate lasteAt Ephesim the See upcasteThe cofre and al that was therinne.Of gret merveile now beginneMai hiere who that sitteth stille;That god wol save mai noght spille.1160Riht as the corps was throwe alonde,Ther cam walkende upon the strondeA worthi clerc, a Surgien,And ek a gret Phisicien,Of al that lond the wisest on,Which hihte Maister Cerymon;Ther were of his disciples some.This Maister to the Cofre is come,1586He peiseth ther was somwhat in,And bad hem bere it to his In,1170And goth himselve forth withal.Al that schal falle, falle schal;They comen hom and tarie noght;This Cofre is into chambre broght,Which that thei finde faste stoke,Bot thei with craft it have unloke.Thei loken in, where as thei foundeA bodi ded, which was bewounde1587In cloth of gold, as I seide er,The tresor ek thei founden ther1180Forth with the lettre, which thei rede.And tho thei token betre hiede;P. iii. 315Unsowed was the bodi sone,And he, which knew what is to done,1588This noble clerk, with alle hasteBegan the veines forto taste,And sih hire Age was of youthe,And with the craftes whiche he coutheHe soghte and fond a signe of lif.With that this worthi kinges wif1190Honestely thei token oute,And maden fyres al aboute;Thei leide hire on a couche softe,And with a scheete warmed ofteHire colde brest began to hete,Hire herte also to flacke and bete.This Maister hath hire every joigntWith certein oile and balsme enoignt,And putte a liquour in hire mouth,Which is to fewe clerkes couth,1200So that sche coevereth ate laste:And ferst hire yhen up sche caste,And whan sche more of strengthe cawhte,Hire Armes bothe forth sche strawhte,Hield up hire hond and pitouslySche spak and seide, ‘Ha, wher am I?1589Where is my lord, what world is this?’As sche that wot noght hou it is.Bot Cerymon the worthi lecheAnsuerde anon upon hire speche1210And seith, ‘Ma dame, yee ben hiere,Where yee be sauf, as yee schal hiereP. iii. 316Hierafterward; forthi as nouMi conseil is, conforteth you:For trusteth wel withoute faile,Ther is nothing which schal you faile,That oghte of reson to be do.’Thus passen thei a day or tuo;Thei speke of noght as for an ende,Til sche began somdiel amende,1220And wiste hireselven what sche mente.Qualiter vxor Appolini sanata domum religionis peciit, vbi sacro1591velamine munita castam omni tempore se vouit.Tho forto knowe hire hol entente,1590This Maister axeth al the cas,Hou sche cam there and what sche was.‘Hou I cam hiere wot I noght,’Quod sche, ‘bot wel I am bethoghtOf othre thinges al aboute’:Fro point to point and tolde him outeAls ferforthli as sche it wiste.And he hire tolde hou in a kiste1230The See hire threw upon the lond,And what tresor with hire he fond,Which was al redy at hire wille,As he that schop him to fulfilleWith al his myht what thing he scholde.Sche thonketh him that he so wolde,And al hire herte sche discloseth,And seith him wel that sche supposethHire lord be dreint, hir child also;So sih sche noght bot alle wo.15921240Wherof as to the world nomoreNe wol sche torne, and preith therforeP. iii. 317That in som temple of the Cite,To kepe and holde hir chastete,Sche mihte among the wommen duelle.Whan he this tale hir herde telle,He was riht glad, and made hire knowenThat he a dowhter of his owenHath, which he wol unto hir yiveTo serve, whil thei bothe live,1250In stede of that which sche hath lost;Al only at his oghne cost1593Sche schal be rendred forth with hire.1594She seith, ‘Grant mercy, lieve sire,God quite it you, ther I ne may.’And thus thei drive forth the day,Til time com that sche was hol;And tho thei take her conseil hol,1595To schape upon good ordinanceAnd make a worthi pourveance15961260Ayein the day whan thei be veiled.And thus, whan that thei be conseiled,In blake clothes thei hem clothe,This lady and the dowhter bothe,And yolde hem to religion.The feste and the professionAfter the reule of that degreWas mad with gret solempnete,Where as Diane is seintefied;Thus stant this lady justefied1270In ordre wher sche thenkth to duelle.Qualiter Appolinus Tharsim nauigans, filiam suam Thaisim Strangulioni et Dionisie vxori sue educandam commendauit; et deinde Tyrum adiit, vbi cum inestimabili gaudio a suis receptus est.Bot now ayeinward forto telleP. iii. 318In what plit that hire lord stod inne:He seileth, til that he may winne1597The havene of Tharse, as I seide er;And whanne he was aryved ther,And it was thurgh the Cite knowe,1598Men myhte se withinne a throwe,As who seith, al the toun at ones,That come ayein him for the nones,1280To yiven him the reverence,So glad thei were of his presence:And thogh he were in his corageDesesed, yit with glad visageHe made hem chiere, and to his In,Wher he whilom sojourned in,He goth him straght and was resceived.And whan the presse of poeple is weived,He takth his hoste unto him tho,And seith, ‘Mi frend Strangulio,1290Lo, thus and thus it is befalle,And thou thiself art on of alle,Forth with thi wif, whiche I most triste.1599Forthi, if it you bothe liste,My doghter Thaise be youre leveI thenke schal with you beleveAs for a time; and thus I preie,That sche be kept be alle weie,And whan sche hath of age more,That sche be set to bokes lore.1300And this avou to god I make,That I schal nevere for hir sakeP. iii. 319Mi berd for no likinge schave,Til it befalle that I haveIn covenable time of ageBeset hire unto mariage.’Thus thei acorde, and al is wel,And forto resten him somdel,As for a while he ther sojorneth,And thanne he takth his leve and torneth1310To Schipe, and goth him hom to Tyr,Wher every man with gret desirAwaiteth upon his comynge.Bot whan the Schip com in seilinge,And thei perceiven it is he,1600Was nevere yit in no citeSuch joie mad as thei tho made;His herte also began to gladeOf that he sih the poeple glad.1601Lo, thus fortune his hap hath lad;1320In sondri wise he was travailed,Bot hou so evere he be assailed,His latere ende schal be good.Qualiter Thaysis vna cum Philotenna Strangulionis et Dionisie filia omnis sciencie et honestatis doctrina imbuta est: set Thaisis Philotennam precellens in odium mortale per inuidiam a Dionisia recollecta est.And forto speke hou that it stodOf Thaise his doghter, wher sche duelleth,In Tharse, as the Cronique telleth,Sche was wel kept, sche was wel loked,Sche was wel tawht, sche was wel boked,So wel sche spedde hir in hire youtheThat sche of every wisdom couthe,1330That forto seche in every londSo wys an other noman fond,P. iii. 320Ne so wel tawht at mannes yhe.Bot wo worthe evere fals envie!1602For it befell that time so,A dowhter hath Strangulio,The which was cleped Philotenne:Bot fame, which wole evere renne,Cam al day to hir moder Ere,And seith, wher evere hir doghter were1340With Thayse set in eny place,The comun vois, the comun graceWas al upon that other Maide,And of hir doghter noman saide.Who wroth but Dionise thanne?Hire thoghte a thousend yer til whanneSche myhte ben of Thaise wrekeOf that sche herde folk so speke.And fell that ilke same tyde,That ded was trewe Lychoride,1350Which hadde be servant to Thaise,So that sche was the worse at aise,For sche hath thanne no serviseBot only thurgh this Dionise,Which was hire dedlich Anemie
Of Penonceals a riche rewe.Thei axen when the schip is come:Fro Tyr, anon ansuerde some,990And over this thei seiden moreThe cause why thei comen foreWas forto seche and forto findeAppolinus, which was of kinde1566Her liege lord: and he appiereth,And of the tale which he hierethHe was riht glad; for thei him tolde,That for vengance, as god it wolde,Antiochus, as men mai wite,With thondre and lyhthnynge is forsmite;15671000His doghter hath the same chaunce,So be thei bothe in o balance.P. iii. 309‘Forthi, oure liege lord, we seieIn name of al the lond, and preie,That left al other thing to done,It like you to come soneAnd se youre oghne liege menWith othre that ben of youre ken,That live in longinge and desir1568Til ye be come ayein to Tyr.’1010This tale after the king it haddePentapolim al overspradde,Ther was no joie forto seche;For every man it hadde in specheAnd seiden alle of on acord,‘A worthi king schal ben oure lord:That thoghte ous ferst an hevinesseIs schape ous now to gret gladnesse.’Thus goth the tidinge overal.Qualiter Appolino cum vxore sua impregnata a Pentapoli versus Tyrum nauigantibus, contigit vxorem, mortis articulo angustiatam, in naui filiam, que postea Thaisis vocabatur, parere.Bot nede he mot, that nede schal:1020Appolinus his leve tok,To god and al the lond betokWith al the poeple long and brod,That he no lenger there abod.1569The king and queene sorwe made,Bot yit somdiel thei weren gladeOf such thing as thei herden tho:And thus betwen the wel and woTo schip he goth, his wif with childe,The which was evere meke and mylde1030And wolde noght departe him fro,Such love was betwen hem tuo.P. iii. 310Lichorida for hire officeWas take, which was a Norrice,To wende with this yonge wif,To whom was schape a woful lif.Withinne a time, as it betidde,Whan thei were in the See amidde,Out of the North they sihe a cloude;The storm aros, the wyndes loude1040Thei blewen many a dredful blast,The welkne was al overcast,The derke nyht the Sonne hath under,Ther was a gret tempeste of thunder:The Mone and ek the Sterres botheIn blake cloudes thei hem clothe,Wherof here brihte lok thei hyde.1570This yonge ladi wepte and cride,To whom no confort myhte availe;Of childe sche began travaile,1050Wher sche lay in a Caban clos:Hire woful lord fro hire aros,And that was longe er eny morwe,So that in anguisse and in sorweSche was delivered al be nyhteAnd ded in every mannes syhte;1571Bot natheles for al this woA maide child was bore tho.Qualiter Appolinus vxoris sue mortem planxit.Appolinus whan he this knew,For sorwe a swoune he overthrew,15721060That noman wiste in him no lif.And whanne he wok, he seide, ‘Ha, wif,P. iii. 311Mi lust, mi joie, my desir,1573Mi welthe and my recoverir,Why schal I live, and thou schalt dye?Ha, thou fortune, I thee deffie,Nou hast thou do to me thi werste.Ha, herte, why ne wolt thou berste,That forth with hire I myhte passe?1574Mi peines weren wel the lasse.’1070In such wepinge and in such cryHis dede wif, which lay him by,A thousend sithes he hire kiste;Was nevere man that sih ne wisteA sorwe unto his sorwe lich;For evere among upon the lich1575He fell swounende, as he that soghteHis oghne deth, which he besoghteUnto the goddes alle aboveWith many a pitous word of love;1080Bot suche wordes as tho wereYit herde nevere mannes Ere,Bot only thilke whiche he seide.The Maister Schipman cam and preideWith othre suche as be therinne,And sein that he mai nothing winneAyein the deth, bot thei him rede,He be wel war and tak hiede,The See be weie of his natureReceive mai no creature1090Withinne himself as forto holde,The which is ded: forthi thei wolde,P. iii. 312As thei conseilen al aboute,The dede body casten oute.For betre it is, thei seiden alle,That it of hire so befalle,Than if thei scholden alle spille.The king, which understod here wille1576Qualiter suadentibus nautis corpus vxoris sue mortue in quadam Cista plumbo et ferro obtusa1577que circumligata Appolinus cum magno thesauro vna cum quadam littera sub eius capite scripta recludi et in mare1578proici fecit.And knew here conseil that was trewe,Began ayein his sorwe newe1100With pitous herte, and thus to seie:‘It is al reson that ye preie.I am,’ quod he, ‘bot on al one,So wolde I noght for mi personeTher felle such adversite.Bot whan it mai no betre be,Doth thanne thus upon my word,1579Let make a cofre strong of bord,That it be ferm with led and pich.’Anon was mad a cofre sich,15801110Al redy broght unto his hond;And whanne he sih and redy fondThis cofre mad and wel enclowed,The dede bodi was besowedIn cloth of gold and leid therinne.And for he wolde unto hire winneUpon som cooste a Sepulture,Under hire heved in aventureOf gold he leide Sommes greteAnd of jeueals a strong beyete15811120Forth with a lettre, and seide thus:Copia littere Appolini capiti vxoris sue supposite.‘I, king of Tyr Appollinus,P. iii. 313Do alle maner men to wite,That hiere and se this lettre write,That helpeles withoute redHier lith a kinges doghter ded:And who that happeth hir to finde,For charite tak in his mynde,1582And do so that sche be begraveWith this tresor, which he schal have.’1130Thus whan the lettre was full spoke,1583Thei haue anon the cofre stoke,And bounden it with yren faste,That it may with the wawes laste,And stoppen it be such a weie,That it schal be withinne dreie,So that no water myhte it grieve.And thus in hope and good believeOf that the corps schal wel aryve,Thei caste it over bord als blyve.1140Qualiter Appolinus, vxoris sue corpore in mare proiecto, Tyrum relinquens cursum suum versus Tharsim nauigio dolens arripuit.The Schip forth on the wawes wente;The prince hath changed his entente,1584And seith he wol noght come at TyrAs thanne, bot al his desirIs ferst to seilen unto Tharse.The wyndy Storm began to skarse,The Sonne arist, the weder cliereth,The Schipman which behinde stiereth,Whan that he sih the wyndes saghte,Towardes Tharse his cours he straghte.1150Qualiter corpus predicte defuncte super litus apud Ephesim quidam medicus nomine Cerymon cum aliquibus suis discipulis inuenit; quod in hospicium suum1585portans et extra cistam ponens, spiraculo vite in ea adhuc inuento, ipsam plene sanitati restituit.Bot now to mi matiere ayein,To telle as olde bokes sein,P. iii. 314This dede corps of which ye knoweWith wynd and water was forthroweNow hier, now ther, til ate lasteAt Ephesim the See upcasteThe cofre and al that was therinne.Of gret merveile now beginneMai hiere who that sitteth stille;That god wol save mai noght spille.1160Riht as the corps was throwe alonde,Ther cam walkende upon the strondeA worthi clerc, a Surgien,And ek a gret Phisicien,Of al that lond the wisest on,Which hihte Maister Cerymon;Ther were of his disciples some.This Maister to the Cofre is come,1586He peiseth ther was somwhat in,And bad hem bere it to his In,1170And goth himselve forth withal.Al that schal falle, falle schal;They comen hom and tarie noght;This Cofre is into chambre broght,Which that thei finde faste stoke,Bot thei with craft it have unloke.Thei loken in, where as thei foundeA bodi ded, which was bewounde1587In cloth of gold, as I seide er,The tresor ek thei founden ther1180Forth with the lettre, which thei rede.And tho thei token betre hiede;P. iii. 315Unsowed was the bodi sone,And he, which knew what is to done,1588This noble clerk, with alle hasteBegan the veines forto taste,And sih hire Age was of youthe,And with the craftes whiche he coutheHe soghte and fond a signe of lif.With that this worthi kinges wif1190Honestely thei token oute,And maden fyres al aboute;Thei leide hire on a couche softe,And with a scheete warmed ofteHire colde brest began to hete,Hire herte also to flacke and bete.This Maister hath hire every joigntWith certein oile and balsme enoignt,And putte a liquour in hire mouth,Which is to fewe clerkes couth,1200So that sche coevereth ate laste:And ferst hire yhen up sche caste,And whan sche more of strengthe cawhte,Hire Armes bothe forth sche strawhte,Hield up hire hond and pitouslySche spak and seide, ‘Ha, wher am I?1589Where is my lord, what world is this?’As sche that wot noght hou it is.Bot Cerymon the worthi lecheAnsuerde anon upon hire speche1210And seith, ‘Ma dame, yee ben hiere,Where yee be sauf, as yee schal hiereP. iii. 316Hierafterward; forthi as nouMi conseil is, conforteth you:For trusteth wel withoute faile,Ther is nothing which schal you faile,That oghte of reson to be do.’Thus passen thei a day or tuo;Thei speke of noght as for an ende,Til sche began somdiel amende,1220And wiste hireselven what sche mente.Qualiter vxor Appolini sanata domum religionis peciit, vbi sacro1591velamine munita castam omni tempore se vouit.Tho forto knowe hire hol entente,1590This Maister axeth al the cas,Hou sche cam there and what sche was.‘Hou I cam hiere wot I noght,’Quod sche, ‘bot wel I am bethoghtOf othre thinges al aboute’:Fro point to point and tolde him outeAls ferforthli as sche it wiste.And he hire tolde hou in a kiste1230The See hire threw upon the lond,And what tresor with hire he fond,Which was al redy at hire wille,As he that schop him to fulfilleWith al his myht what thing he scholde.Sche thonketh him that he so wolde,And al hire herte sche discloseth,And seith him wel that sche supposethHire lord be dreint, hir child also;So sih sche noght bot alle wo.15921240Wherof as to the world nomoreNe wol sche torne, and preith therforeP. iii. 317That in som temple of the Cite,To kepe and holde hir chastete,Sche mihte among the wommen duelle.Whan he this tale hir herde telle,He was riht glad, and made hire knowenThat he a dowhter of his owenHath, which he wol unto hir yiveTo serve, whil thei bothe live,1250In stede of that which sche hath lost;Al only at his oghne cost1593Sche schal be rendred forth with hire.1594She seith, ‘Grant mercy, lieve sire,God quite it you, ther I ne may.’And thus thei drive forth the day,Til time com that sche was hol;And tho thei take her conseil hol,1595To schape upon good ordinanceAnd make a worthi pourveance15961260Ayein the day whan thei be veiled.And thus, whan that thei be conseiled,In blake clothes thei hem clothe,This lady and the dowhter bothe,And yolde hem to religion.The feste and the professionAfter the reule of that degreWas mad with gret solempnete,Where as Diane is seintefied;Thus stant this lady justefied1270In ordre wher sche thenkth to duelle.Qualiter Appolinus Tharsim nauigans, filiam suam Thaisim Strangulioni et Dionisie vxori sue educandam commendauit; et deinde Tyrum adiit, vbi cum inestimabili gaudio a suis receptus est.Bot now ayeinward forto telleP. iii. 318In what plit that hire lord stod inne:He seileth, til that he may winne1597The havene of Tharse, as I seide er;And whanne he was aryved ther,And it was thurgh the Cite knowe,1598Men myhte se withinne a throwe,As who seith, al the toun at ones,That come ayein him for the nones,1280To yiven him the reverence,So glad thei were of his presence:And thogh he were in his corageDesesed, yit with glad visageHe made hem chiere, and to his In,Wher he whilom sojourned in,He goth him straght and was resceived.And whan the presse of poeple is weived,He takth his hoste unto him tho,And seith, ‘Mi frend Strangulio,1290Lo, thus and thus it is befalle,And thou thiself art on of alle,Forth with thi wif, whiche I most triste.1599Forthi, if it you bothe liste,My doghter Thaise be youre leveI thenke schal with you beleveAs for a time; and thus I preie,That sche be kept be alle weie,And whan sche hath of age more,That sche be set to bokes lore.1300And this avou to god I make,That I schal nevere for hir sakeP. iii. 319Mi berd for no likinge schave,Til it befalle that I haveIn covenable time of ageBeset hire unto mariage.’Thus thei acorde, and al is wel,And forto resten him somdel,As for a while he ther sojorneth,And thanne he takth his leve and torneth1310To Schipe, and goth him hom to Tyr,Wher every man with gret desirAwaiteth upon his comynge.Bot whan the Schip com in seilinge,And thei perceiven it is he,1600Was nevere yit in no citeSuch joie mad as thei tho made;His herte also began to gladeOf that he sih the poeple glad.1601Lo, thus fortune his hap hath lad;1320In sondri wise he was travailed,Bot hou so evere he be assailed,His latere ende schal be good.Qualiter Thaysis vna cum Philotenna Strangulionis et Dionisie filia omnis sciencie et honestatis doctrina imbuta est: set Thaisis Philotennam precellens in odium mortale per inuidiam a Dionisia recollecta est.And forto speke hou that it stodOf Thaise his doghter, wher sche duelleth,In Tharse, as the Cronique telleth,Sche was wel kept, sche was wel loked,Sche was wel tawht, sche was wel boked,So wel sche spedde hir in hire youtheThat sche of every wisdom couthe,1330That forto seche in every londSo wys an other noman fond,P. iii. 320Ne so wel tawht at mannes yhe.Bot wo worthe evere fals envie!1602For it befell that time so,A dowhter hath Strangulio,The which was cleped Philotenne:Bot fame, which wole evere renne,Cam al day to hir moder Ere,And seith, wher evere hir doghter were1340With Thayse set in eny place,The comun vois, the comun graceWas al upon that other Maide,And of hir doghter noman saide.Who wroth but Dionise thanne?Hire thoghte a thousend yer til whanneSche myhte ben of Thaise wrekeOf that sche herde folk so speke.And fell that ilke same tyde,That ded was trewe Lychoride,1350Which hadde be servant to Thaise,So that sche was the worse at aise,For sche hath thanne no serviseBot only thurgh this Dionise,Which was hire dedlich Anemie
Of Penonceals a riche rewe.Thei axen when the schip is come:Fro Tyr, anon ansuerde some,990And over this thei seiden moreThe cause why thei comen foreWas forto seche and forto findeAppolinus, which was of kinde1566Her liege lord: and he appiereth,And of the tale which he hierethHe was riht glad; for thei him tolde,That for vengance, as god it wolde,Antiochus, as men mai wite,With thondre and lyhthnynge is forsmite;15671000His doghter hath the same chaunce,So be thei bothe in o balance.P. iii. 309‘Forthi, oure liege lord, we seieIn name of al the lond, and preie,That left al other thing to done,It like you to come soneAnd se youre oghne liege menWith othre that ben of youre ken,That live in longinge and desir1568Til ye be come ayein to Tyr.’1010This tale after the king it haddePentapolim al overspradde,Ther was no joie forto seche;For every man it hadde in specheAnd seiden alle of on acord,‘A worthi king schal ben oure lord:That thoghte ous ferst an hevinesseIs schape ous now to gret gladnesse.’Thus goth the tidinge overal.Qualiter Appolino cum vxore sua impregnata a Pentapoli versus Tyrum nauigantibus, contigit vxorem, mortis articulo angustiatam, in naui filiam, que postea Thaisis vocabatur, parere.Bot nede he mot, that nede schal:1020Appolinus his leve tok,To god and al the lond betokWith al the poeple long and brod,That he no lenger there abod.1569The king and queene sorwe made,Bot yit somdiel thei weren gladeOf such thing as thei herden tho:And thus betwen the wel and woTo schip he goth, his wif with childe,The which was evere meke and mylde1030And wolde noght departe him fro,Such love was betwen hem tuo.P. iii. 310Lichorida for hire officeWas take, which was a Norrice,To wende with this yonge wif,To whom was schape a woful lif.Withinne a time, as it betidde,Whan thei were in the See amidde,Out of the North they sihe a cloude;The storm aros, the wyndes loude1040Thei blewen many a dredful blast,The welkne was al overcast,The derke nyht the Sonne hath under,Ther was a gret tempeste of thunder:The Mone and ek the Sterres botheIn blake cloudes thei hem clothe,Wherof here brihte lok thei hyde.1570This yonge ladi wepte and cride,To whom no confort myhte availe;Of childe sche began travaile,1050Wher sche lay in a Caban clos:Hire woful lord fro hire aros,And that was longe er eny morwe,So that in anguisse and in sorweSche was delivered al be nyhteAnd ded in every mannes syhte;1571Bot natheles for al this woA maide child was bore tho.Qualiter Appolinus vxoris sue mortem planxit.Appolinus whan he this knew,For sorwe a swoune he overthrew,15721060That noman wiste in him no lif.And whanne he wok, he seide, ‘Ha, wif,P. iii. 311Mi lust, mi joie, my desir,1573Mi welthe and my recoverir,Why schal I live, and thou schalt dye?Ha, thou fortune, I thee deffie,Nou hast thou do to me thi werste.Ha, herte, why ne wolt thou berste,That forth with hire I myhte passe?1574Mi peines weren wel the lasse.’1070In such wepinge and in such cryHis dede wif, which lay him by,A thousend sithes he hire kiste;Was nevere man that sih ne wisteA sorwe unto his sorwe lich;For evere among upon the lich1575He fell swounende, as he that soghteHis oghne deth, which he besoghteUnto the goddes alle aboveWith many a pitous word of love;1080Bot suche wordes as tho wereYit herde nevere mannes Ere,Bot only thilke whiche he seide.The Maister Schipman cam and preideWith othre suche as be therinne,And sein that he mai nothing winneAyein the deth, bot thei him rede,He be wel war and tak hiede,The See be weie of his natureReceive mai no creature1090Withinne himself as forto holde,The which is ded: forthi thei wolde,P. iii. 312As thei conseilen al aboute,The dede body casten oute.For betre it is, thei seiden alle,That it of hire so befalle,Than if thei scholden alle spille.The king, which understod here wille1576Qualiter suadentibus nautis corpus vxoris sue mortue in quadam Cista plumbo et ferro obtusa1577que circumligata Appolinus cum magno thesauro vna cum quadam littera sub eius capite scripta recludi et in mare1578proici fecit.And knew here conseil that was trewe,Began ayein his sorwe newe1100With pitous herte, and thus to seie:‘It is al reson that ye preie.I am,’ quod he, ‘bot on al one,So wolde I noght for mi personeTher felle such adversite.Bot whan it mai no betre be,Doth thanne thus upon my word,1579Let make a cofre strong of bord,That it be ferm with led and pich.’Anon was mad a cofre sich,15801110Al redy broght unto his hond;And whanne he sih and redy fondThis cofre mad and wel enclowed,The dede bodi was besowedIn cloth of gold and leid therinne.And for he wolde unto hire winneUpon som cooste a Sepulture,Under hire heved in aventureOf gold he leide Sommes greteAnd of jeueals a strong beyete15811120Forth with a lettre, and seide thus:Copia littere Appolini capiti vxoris sue supposite.‘I, king of Tyr Appollinus,P. iii. 313Do alle maner men to wite,That hiere and se this lettre write,That helpeles withoute redHier lith a kinges doghter ded:And who that happeth hir to finde,For charite tak in his mynde,1582And do so that sche be begraveWith this tresor, which he schal have.’1130Thus whan the lettre was full spoke,1583Thei haue anon the cofre stoke,And bounden it with yren faste,That it may with the wawes laste,And stoppen it be such a weie,That it schal be withinne dreie,So that no water myhte it grieve.And thus in hope and good believeOf that the corps schal wel aryve,Thei caste it over bord als blyve.1140Qualiter Appolinus, vxoris sue corpore in mare proiecto, Tyrum relinquens cursum suum versus Tharsim nauigio dolens arripuit.The Schip forth on the wawes wente;The prince hath changed his entente,1584And seith he wol noght come at TyrAs thanne, bot al his desirIs ferst to seilen unto Tharse.The wyndy Storm began to skarse,The Sonne arist, the weder cliereth,The Schipman which behinde stiereth,Whan that he sih the wyndes saghte,Towardes Tharse his cours he straghte.1150Qualiter corpus predicte defuncte super litus apud Ephesim quidam medicus nomine Cerymon cum aliquibus suis discipulis inuenit; quod in hospicium suum1585portans et extra cistam ponens, spiraculo vite in ea adhuc inuento, ipsam plene sanitati restituit.Bot now to mi matiere ayein,To telle as olde bokes sein,P. iii. 314This dede corps of which ye knoweWith wynd and water was forthroweNow hier, now ther, til ate lasteAt Ephesim the See upcasteThe cofre and al that was therinne.Of gret merveile now beginneMai hiere who that sitteth stille;That god wol save mai noght spille.1160Riht as the corps was throwe alonde,Ther cam walkende upon the strondeA worthi clerc, a Surgien,And ek a gret Phisicien,Of al that lond the wisest on,Which hihte Maister Cerymon;Ther were of his disciples some.This Maister to the Cofre is come,1586He peiseth ther was somwhat in,And bad hem bere it to his In,1170And goth himselve forth withal.Al that schal falle, falle schal;They comen hom and tarie noght;This Cofre is into chambre broght,Which that thei finde faste stoke,Bot thei with craft it have unloke.Thei loken in, where as thei foundeA bodi ded, which was bewounde1587In cloth of gold, as I seide er,The tresor ek thei founden ther1180Forth with the lettre, which thei rede.And tho thei token betre hiede;P. iii. 315Unsowed was the bodi sone,And he, which knew what is to done,1588This noble clerk, with alle hasteBegan the veines forto taste,And sih hire Age was of youthe,And with the craftes whiche he coutheHe soghte and fond a signe of lif.With that this worthi kinges wif1190Honestely thei token oute,And maden fyres al aboute;Thei leide hire on a couche softe,And with a scheete warmed ofteHire colde brest began to hete,Hire herte also to flacke and bete.This Maister hath hire every joigntWith certein oile and balsme enoignt,And putte a liquour in hire mouth,Which is to fewe clerkes couth,1200So that sche coevereth ate laste:And ferst hire yhen up sche caste,And whan sche more of strengthe cawhte,Hire Armes bothe forth sche strawhte,Hield up hire hond and pitouslySche spak and seide, ‘Ha, wher am I?1589Where is my lord, what world is this?’As sche that wot noght hou it is.Bot Cerymon the worthi lecheAnsuerde anon upon hire speche1210And seith, ‘Ma dame, yee ben hiere,Where yee be sauf, as yee schal hiereP. iii. 316Hierafterward; forthi as nouMi conseil is, conforteth you:For trusteth wel withoute faile,Ther is nothing which schal you faile,That oghte of reson to be do.’Thus passen thei a day or tuo;Thei speke of noght as for an ende,Til sche began somdiel amende,1220And wiste hireselven what sche mente.Qualiter vxor Appolini sanata domum religionis peciit, vbi sacro1591velamine munita castam omni tempore se vouit.Tho forto knowe hire hol entente,1590This Maister axeth al the cas,Hou sche cam there and what sche was.‘Hou I cam hiere wot I noght,’Quod sche, ‘bot wel I am bethoghtOf othre thinges al aboute’:Fro point to point and tolde him outeAls ferforthli as sche it wiste.And he hire tolde hou in a kiste1230The See hire threw upon the lond,And what tresor with hire he fond,Which was al redy at hire wille,As he that schop him to fulfilleWith al his myht what thing he scholde.Sche thonketh him that he so wolde,And al hire herte sche discloseth,And seith him wel that sche supposethHire lord be dreint, hir child also;So sih sche noght bot alle wo.15921240Wherof as to the world nomoreNe wol sche torne, and preith therforeP. iii. 317That in som temple of the Cite,To kepe and holde hir chastete,Sche mihte among the wommen duelle.Whan he this tale hir herde telle,He was riht glad, and made hire knowenThat he a dowhter of his owenHath, which he wol unto hir yiveTo serve, whil thei bothe live,1250In stede of that which sche hath lost;Al only at his oghne cost1593Sche schal be rendred forth with hire.1594She seith, ‘Grant mercy, lieve sire,God quite it you, ther I ne may.’And thus thei drive forth the day,Til time com that sche was hol;And tho thei take her conseil hol,1595To schape upon good ordinanceAnd make a worthi pourveance15961260Ayein the day whan thei be veiled.And thus, whan that thei be conseiled,In blake clothes thei hem clothe,This lady and the dowhter bothe,And yolde hem to religion.The feste and the professionAfter the reule of that degreWas mad with gret solempnete,Where as Diane is seintefied;Thus stant this lady justefied1270In ordre wher sche thenkth to duelle.Qualiter Appolinus Tharsim nauigans, filiam suam Thaisim Strangulioni et Dionisie vxori sue educandam commendauit; et deinde Tyrum adiit, vbi cum inestimabili gaudio a suis receptus est.Bot now ayeinward forto telleP. iii. 318In what plit that hire lord stod inne:He seileth, til that he may winne1597The havene of Tharse, as I seide er;And whanne he was aryved ther,And it was thurgh the Cite knowe,1598Men myhte se withinne a throwe,As who seith, al the toun at ones,That come ayein him for the nones,1280To yiven him the reverence,So glad thei were of his presence:And thogh he were in his corageDesesed, yit with glad visageHe made hem chiere, and to his In,Wher he whilom sojourned in,He goth him straght and was resceived.And whan the presse of poeple is weived,He takth his hoste unto him tho,And seith, ‘Mi frend Strangulio,1290Lo, thus and thus it is befalle,And thou thiself art on of alle,Forth with thi wif, whiche I most triste.1599Forthi, if it you bothe liste,My doghter Thaise be youre leveI thenke schal with you beleveAs for a time; and thus I preie,That sche be kept be alle weie,And whan sche hath of age more,That sche be set to bokes lore.1300And this avou to god I make,That I schal nevere for hir sakeP. iii. 319Mi berd for no likinge schave,Til it befalle that I haveIn covenable time of ageBeset hire unto mariage.’Thus thei acorde, and al is wel,And forto resten him somdel,As for a while he ther sojorneth,And thanne he takth his leve and torneth1310To Schipe, and goth him hom to Tyr,Wher every man with gret desirAwaiteth upon his comynge.Bot whan the Schip com in seilinge,And thei perceiven it is he,1600Was nevere yit in no citeSuch joie mad as thei tho made;His herte also began to gladeOf that he sih the poeple glad.1601Lo, thus fortune his hap hath lad;1320In sondri wise he was travailed,Bot hou so evere he be assailed,His latere ende schal be good.Qualiter Thaysis vna cum Philotenna Strangulionis et Dionisie filia omnis sciencie et honestatis doctrina imbuta est: set Thaisis Philotennam precellens in odium mortale per inuidiam a Dionisia recollecta est.And forto speke hou that it stodOf Thaise his doghter, wher sche duelleth,In Tharse, as the Cronique telleth,Sche was wel kept, sche was wel loked,Sche was wel tawht, sche was wel boked,So wel sche spedde hir in hire youtheThat sche of every wisdom couthe,1330That forto seche in every londSo wys an other noman fond,P. iii. 320Ne so wel tawht at mannes yhe.Bot wo worthe evere fals envie!1602For it befell that time so,A dowhter hath Strangulio,The which was cleped Philotenne:Bot fame, which wole evere renne,Cam al day to hir moder Ere,And seith, wher evere hir doghter were1340With Thayse set in eny place,The comun vois, the comun graceWas al upon that other Maide,And of hir doghter noman saide.Who wroth but Dionise thanne?Hire thoghte a thousend yer til whanneSche myhte ben of Thaise wrekeOf that sche herde folk so speke.And fell that ilke same tyde,That ded was trewe Lychoride,1350Which hadde be servant to Thaise,So that sche was the worse at aise,For sche hath thanne no serviseBot only thurgh this Dionise,Which was hire dedlich Anemie
Of Penonceals a riche rewe.
Thei axen when the schip is come:
Fro Tyr, anon ansuerde some,990
And over this thei seiden more
The cause why thei comen fore
Was forto seche and forto finde
Appolinus, which was of kinde1566
Her liege lord: and he appiereth,
And of the tale which he hiereth
He was riht glad; for thei him tolde,
That for vengance, as god it wolde,
Antiochus, as men mai wite,
With thondre and lyhthnynge is forsmite;15671000
His doghter hath the same chaunce,
So be thei bothe in o balance.
P. iii. 309
‘Forthi, oure liege lord, we seie
In name of al the lond, and preie,
That left al other thing to done,
It like you to come sone
And se youre oghne liege men
With othre that ben of youre ken,
That live in longinge and desir1568
Til ye be come ayein to Tyr.’1010
This tale after the king it hadde
Pentapolim al overspradde,
Ther was no joie forto seche;
For every man it hadde in speche
And seiden alle of on acord,
‘A worthi king schal ben oure lord:
That thoghte ous ferst an hevinesse
Is schape ous now to gret gladnesse.’
Thus goth the tidinge overal.
Qualiter Appolino cum vxore sua impregnata a Pentapoli versus Tyrum nauigantibus, contigit vxorem, mortis articulo angustiatam, in naui filiam, que postea Thaisis vocabatur, parere.
Bot nede he mot, that nede schal:1020
Appolinus his leve tok,
To god and al the lond betok
With al the poeple long and brod,
That he no lenger there abod.1569
The king and queene sorwe made,
Bot yit somdiel thei weren glade
Of such thing as thei herden tho:
And thus betwen the wel and wo
To schip he goth, his wif with childe,
The which was evere meke and mylde1030
And wolde noght departe him fro,
Such love was betwen hem tuo.
P. iii. 310
Lichorida for hire office
Was take, which was a Norrice,
To wende with this yonge wif,
To whom was schape a woful lif.
Withinne a time, as it betidde,
Whan thei were in the See amidde,
Out of the North they sihe a cloude;
The storm aros, the wyndes loude1040
Thei blewen many a dredful blast,
The welkne was al overcast,
The derke nyht the Sonne hath under,
Ther was a gret tempeste of thunder:
The Mone and ek the Sterres bothe
In blake cloudes thei hem clothe,
Wherof here brihte lok thei hyde.1570
This yonge ladi wepte and cride,
To whom no confort myhte availe;
Of childe sche began travaile,1050
Wher sche lay in a Caban clos:
Hire woful lord fro hire aros,
And that was longe er eny morwe,
So that in anguisse and in sorwe
Sche was delivered al be nyhte
And ded in every mannes syhte;1571
Bot natheles for al this wo
A maide child was bore tho.
Qualiter Appolinus vxoris sue mortem planxit.
Appolinus whan he this knew,
For sorwe a swoune he overthrew,15721060
That noman wiste in him no lif.
And whanne he wok, he seide, ‘Ha, wif,
P. iii. 311
Mi lust, mi joie, my desir,1573
Mi welthe and my recoverir,
Why schal I live, and thou schalt dye?
Ha, thou fortune, I thee deffie,
Nou hast thou do to me thi werste.
Ha, herte, why ne wolt thou berste,
That forth with hire I myhte passe?1574
Mi peines weren wel the lasse.’1070
In such wepinge and in such cry
His dede wif, which lay him by,
A thousend sithes he hire kiste;
Was nevere man that sih ne wiste
A sorwe unto his sorwe lich;
For evere among upon the lich1575
He fell swounende, as he that soghte
His oghne deth, which he besoghte
Unto the goddes alle above
With many a pitous word of love;1080
Bot suche wordes as tho were
Yit herde nevere mannes Ere,
Bot only thilke whiche he seide.
The Maister Schipman cam and preide
With othre suche as be therinne,
And sein that he mai nothing winne
Ayein the deth, bot thei him rede,
He be wel war and tak hiede,
The See be weie of his nature
Receive mai no creature1090
Withinne himself as forto holde,
The which is ded: forthi thei wolde,
P. iii. 312
As thei conseilen al aboute,
The dede body casten oute.
For betre it is, thei seiden alle,
That it of hire so befalle,
Than if thei scholden alle spille.
The king, which understod here wille1576
Qualiter suadentibus nautis corpus vxoris sue mortue in quadam Cista plumbo et ferro obtusa1577que circumligata Appolinus cum magno thesauro vna cum quadam littera sub eius capite scripta recludi et in mare1578proici fecit.
And knew here conseil that was trewe,
Began ayein his sorwe newe1100
With pitous herte, and thus to seie:
‘It is al reson that ye preie.
I am,’ quod he, ‘bot on al one,
So wolde I noght for mi persone
Ther felle such adversite.
Bot whan it mai no betre be,
Doth thanne thus upon my word,1579
Let make a cofre strong of bord,
That it be ferm with led and pich.’
Anon was mad a cofre sich,15801110
Al redy broght unto his hond;
And whanne he sih and redy fond
This cofre mad and wel enclowed,
The dede bodi was besowed
In cloth of gold and leid therinne.
And for he wolde unto hire winne
Upon som cooste a Sepulture,
Under hire heved in aventure
Of gold he leide Sommes grete
And of jeueals a strong beyete15811120
Forth with a lettre, and seide thus:
Copia littere Appolini capiti vxoris sue supposite.
‘I, king of Tyr Appollinus,
P. iii. 313
Do alle maner men to wite,
That hiere and se this lettre write,
That helpeles withoute red
Hier lith a kinges doghter ded:
And who that happeth hir to finde,
For charite tak in his mynde,1582
And do so that sche be begrave
With this tresor, which he schal have.’1130
Thus whan the lettre was full spoke,1583
Thei haue anon the cofre stoke,
And bounden it with yren faste,
That it may with the wawes laste,
And stoppen it be such a weie,
That it schal be withinne dreie,
So that no water myhte it grieve.
And thus in hope and good believe
Of that the corps schal wel aryve,
Thei caste it over bord als blyve.1140
Qualiter Appolinus, vxoris sue corpore in mare proiecto, Tyrum relinquens cursum suum versus Tharsim nauigio dolens arripuit.
The Schip forth on the wawes wente;
The prince hath changed his entente,1584
And seith he wol noght come at Tyr
As thanne, bot al his desir
Is ferst to seilen unto Tharse.
The wyndy Storm began to skarse,
The Sonne arist, the weder cliereth,
The Schipman which behinde stiereth,
Whan that he sih the wyndes saghte,
Towardes Tharse his cours he straghte.1150
Qualiter corpus predicte defuncte super litus apud Ephesim quidam medicus nomine Cerymon cum aliquibus suis discipulis inuenit; quod in hospicium suum1585portans et extra cistam ponens, spiraculo vite in ea adhuc inuento, ipsam plene sanitati restituit.
Bot now to mi matiere ayein,
To telle as olde bokes sein,
P. iii. 314
This dede corps of which ye knowe
With wynd and water was forthrowe
Now hier, now ther, til ate laste
At Ephesim the See upcaste
The cofre and al that was therinne.
Of gret merveile now beginne
Mai hiere who that sitteth stille;
That god wol save mai noght spille.1160
Riht as the corps was throwe alonde,
Ther cam walkende upon the stronde
A worthi clerc, a Surgien,
And ek a gret Phisicien,
Of al that lond the wisest on,
Which hihte Maister Cerymon;
Ther were of his disciples some.
This Maister to the Cofre is come,1586
He peiseth ther was somwhat in,
And bad hem bere it to his In,1170
And goth himselve forth withal.
Al that schal falle, falle schal;
They comen hom and tarie noght;
This Cofre is into chambre broght,
Which that thei finde faste stoke,
Bot thei with craft it have unloke.
Thei loken in, where as thei founde
A bodi ded, which was bewounde1587
In cloth of gold, as I seide er,
The tresor ek thei founden ther1180
Forth with the lettre, which thei rede.
And tho thei token betre hiede;
P. iii. 315
Unsowed was the bodi sone,
And he, which knew what is to done,1588
This noble clerk, with alle haste
Began the veines forto taste,
And sih hire Age was of youthe,
And with the craftes whiche he couthe
He soghte and fond a signe of lif.
With that this worthi kinges wif1190
Honestely thei token oute,
And maden fyres al aboute;
Thei leide hire on a couche softe,
And with a scheete warmed ofte
Hire colde brest began to hete,
Hire herte also to flacke and bete.
This Maister hath hire every joignt
With certein oile and balsme enoignt,
And putte a liquour in hire mouth,
Which is to fewe clerkes couth,1200
So that sche coevereth ate laste:
And ferst hire yhen up sche caste,
And whan sche more of strengthe cawhte,
Hire Armes bothe forth sche strawhte,
Hield up hire hond and pitously
Sche spak and seide, ‘Ha, wher am I?1589
Where is my lord, what world is this?’
As sche that wot noght hou it is.
Bot Cerymon the worthi leche
Ansuerde anon upon hire speche1210
And seith, ‘Ma dame, yee ben hiere,
Where yee be sauf, as yee schal hiere
P. iii. 316
Hierafterward; forthi as nou
Mi conseil is, conforteth you:
For trusteth wel withoute faile,
Ther is nothing which schal you faile,
That oghte of reson to be do.’
Thus passen thei a day or tuo;
Thei speke of noght as for an ende,
Til sche began somdiel amende,1220
And wiste hireselven what sche mente.
Qualiter vxor Appolini sanata domum religionis peciit, vbi sacro1591velamine munita castam omni tempore se vouit.
Tho forto knowe hire hol entente,1590
This Maister axeth al the cas,
Hou sche cam there and what sche was.
‘Hou I cam hiere wot I noght,’
Quod sche, ‘bot wel I am bethoght
Of othre thinges al aboute’:
Fro point to point and tolde him oute
Als ferforthli as sche it wiste.
And he hire tolde hou in a kiste1230
The See hire threw upon the lond,
And what tresor with hire he fond,
Which was al redy at hire wille,
As he that schop him to fulfille
With al his myht what thing he scholde.
Sche thonketh him that he so wolde,
And al hire herte sche discloseth,
And seith him wel that sche supposeth
Hire lord be dreint, hir child also;
So sih sche noght bot alle wo.15921240
Wherof as to the world nomore
Ne wol sche torne, and preith therfore
P. iii. 317
That in som temple of the Cite,
To kepe and holde hir chastete,
Sche mihte among the wommen duelle.
Whan he this tale hir herde telle,
He was riht glad, and made hire knowen
That he a dowhter of his owen
Hath, which he wol unto hir yive
To serve, whil thei bothe live,1250
In stede of that which sche hath lost;
Al only at his oghne cost1593
Sche schal be rendred forth with hire.1594
She seith, ‘Grant mercy, lieve sire,
God quite it you, ther I ne may.’
And thus thei drive forth the day,
Til time com that sche was hol;
And tho thei take her conseil hol,1595
To schape upon good ordinance
And make a worthi pourveance15961260
Ayein the day whan thei be veiled.
And thus, whan that thei be conseiled,
In blake clothes thei hem clothe,
This lady and the dowhter bothe,
And yolde hem to religion.
The feste and the profession
After the reule of that degre
Was mad with gret solempnete,
Where as Diane is seintefied;
Thus stant this lady justefied1270
In ordre wher sche thenkth to duelle.
Qualiter Appolinus Tharsim nauigans, filiam suam Thaisim Strangulioni et Dionisie vxori sue educandam commendauit; et deinde Tyrum adiit, vbi cum inestimabili gaudio a suis receptus est.
Bot now ayeinward forto telle
P. iii. 318
In what plit that hire lord stod inne:
He seileth, til that he may winne1597
The havene of Tharse, as I seide er;
And whanne he was aryved ther,
And it was thurgh the Cite knowe,1598
Men myhte se withinne a throwe,
As who seith, al the toun at ones,
That come ayein him for the nones,1280
To yiven him the reverence,
So glad thei were of his presence:
And thogh he were in his corage
Desesed, yit with glad visage
He made hem chiere, and to his In,
Wher he whilom sojourned in,
He goth him straght and was resceived.
And whan the presse of poeple is weived,
He takth his hoste unto him tho,
And seith, ‘Mi frend Strangulio,1290
Lo, thus and thus it is befalle,
And thou thiself art on of alle,
Forth with thi wif, whiche I most triste.1599
Forthi, if it you bothe liste,
My doghter Thaise be youre leve
I thenke schal with you beleve
As for a time; and thus I preie,
That sche be kept be alle weie,
And whan sche hath of age more,
That sche be set to bokes lore.1300
And this avou to god I make,
That I schal nevere for hir sake
P. iii. 319
Mi berd for no likinge schave,
Til it befalle that I have
In covenable time of age
Beset hire unto mariage.’
Thus thei acorde, and al is wel,
And forto resten him somdel,
As for a while he ther sojorneth,
And thanne he takth his leve and torneth1310
To Schipe, and goth him hom to Tyr,
Wher every man with gret desir
Awaiteth upon his comynge.
Bot whan the Schip com in seilinge,
And thei perceiven it is he,1600
Was nevere yit in no cite
Such joie mad as thei tho made;
His herte also began to glade
Of that he sih the poeple glad.1601
Lo, thus fortune his hap hath lad;1320
In sondri wise he was travailed,
Bot hou so evere he be assailed,
His latere ende schal be good.
Qualiter Thaysis vna cum Philotenna Strangulionis et Dionisie filia omnis sciencie et honestatis doctrina imbuta est: set Thaisis Philotennam precellens in odium mortale per inuidiam a Dionisia recollecta est.
And forto speke hou that it stod
Of Thaise his doghter, wher sche duelleth,
In Tharse, as the Cronique telleth,
Sche was wel kept, sche was wel loked,
Sche was wel tawht, sche was wel boked,
So wel sche spedde hir in hire youthe
That sche of every wisdom couthe,1330
That forto seche in every lond
So wys an other noman fond,
P. iii. 320
Ne so wel tawht at mannes yhe.
Bot wo worthe evere fals envie!1602
For it befell that time so,
A dowhter hath Strangulio,
The which was cleped Philotenne:
Bot fame, which wole evere renne,
Cam al day to hir moder Ere,
And seith, wher evere hir doghter were1340
With Thayse set in eny place,
The comun vois, the comun grace
Was al upon that other Maide,
And of hir doghter noman saide.
Who wroth but Dionise thanne?
Hire thoghte a thousend yer til whanne
Sche myhte ben of Thaise wreke
Of that sche herde folk so speke.
And fell that ilke same tyde,
That ded was trewe Lychoride,1350
Which hadde be servant to Thaise,
So that sche was the worse at aise,
For sche hath thanne no servise
Bot only thurgh this Dionise,
Which was hire dedlich Anemie