Imatges de pàgina
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In gooth the grapenel so ful of crokes,
Amonge the ropes, and the sheryng hokes;
In with the polax preseth he and he;
Byhynde the maste begynneth he to fle,
And out agayn, and dryveth hym over borde;
He styngeth hym upon hys speres orde;

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He rent the sayle with hokes lyke a sithe
He bryngeth the cuppe, and biddeth hem be blithe;
He poureth pesen upon the hacches slidre,
With pottes ful of lyme, they goon togedre.
And thus the longe day in fight they spende
Til at the last, as every thing hath ende,
Antony is shent, and put hym to the flyghte,
And al hys folke to-goo, that best goo myghte.
Fleeth ek the queene with al hir purpre sayle,
For strokes which that went as thik as hayle;
No wonder was, she myght it nat endure.
And whan that Antony saugh that aventure,
'Allas,' quod he, the day that I was borne!
My worshippe in this day thus have I lorne!'
And for dispeyre out of hys wytte he sterte,
And roof hymself anoon thurghout the herte,
Er that he ferther went out of the place.
Hys wyf, that koude of Cesar have no grace,
To Egipte is fled, for drede and for distresse.
But herkeneth ye that speken of kyndenesse.

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Ye men that falsly sweren many an oothe, That ye wol dye yf that your love be wroothe, Here may ye seen of women which a trouthe. This woful Cleopatrie hath made swich routhe, 90 That ther nys tonge noon that may yt telle. But on the morowe she wol no lenger dwelle, But made hir subtil werkmen make a shryne Of alle the rubees and the stones fyne

In al Egipte that she koude espye;
And put ful the shryne of spicerye,

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And let the corps enbawme; and forth she fette
This dede corps, and in the shryne yt shette.
And next the shryne a pitte than dooth she grave,
And alle the serpentes that she myght have,
She put hem in that grave, and thus she seyde:-
'Now, love, to whom my sorweful hert obeyde,
So ferforthely, that fro that blysful houre
That I yow swor to ben al frely youre;
(I mene yow, Antonius, my knyght,)
That never wakyng in the day or nyght,
Ye nere out of myn hertes remembraunce,
For wele or woo, for carole, or for daunce;
And in my self this covenaunt made I thoo,
That ryght swich as ye felten wele or woo,
As ferforth as yt in my powere lay,
Unreprovable unto my wifhood ay,
The same wolde I felen, life or deethe;
And thilke covenaunt while me lasteth breethe
I wol fulfille; and that shal wel be seene,
Was never unto hir love a trewer queene.'
And wyth that worde, naked, with ful good herte,
Amonge the serpents in the pit she sterte.
And ther she chees to han hir buryinge.
Anoon the neddres gonne hir for to stynge,
And she hir deeth receveth with good chere,
For love of Antony that was hir so dere.
And this is storial, sooth it ys no fable.
Now er I fynde a man thus trewe and stable,
And wolde for love his deeth so frely take,

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prey God lat oure hedes nevere ake!

EXPLICIT LEGENDA CLEOPATRE MARTYRIS.

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INCIPIT LEGENDA TESBE BABILON,

MARTIRIS.

T Babiloyne whylom fil it thus,
The whiche toune the queene Simyramus
Leet dichen al about, and walles make
Ful hye, of harde tiles wel ybake :
There were dwellynge in this noble toune,
Two lordes, which that were of grete renoune,
And woneden so neigh upon a grene,

That ther nas but a stoon wal hem betwene,
As ofte in grette tounes ys the wone.
And sooth to seyn, that o man had a sone,
Of al that londe oon the lustieste;

That other had a doghtre, the faireste

That esteward in the worlde was tho dwellynge.
The name of everyche gan to other sprynge,
By wommen that were neyghebores aboute;
For in that contre yit, wythouten doute,
Maydenes ben ykept for jelousye

Ful streyte, leste they diden somme folye.
This yonge man was cleped Piramus,
Tesbé highte the maide (Naso seith thus).
And thus by reporte was hir name yshove,
That as they wex in age, wax hir love.
And certeyne, as by reson of hir age,
Ther myghte have ben betwex hem mariage,
But that hir fadres nold yt not assente,
And booth in love ylike soore they brente,

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That noon of al hir frendes myghte yt lette.
But prevely sommtyme yit they mette
Be sleight, and spoken somme of hire desire,
As wre the glede and hotter is the fire;
Forbeede a love, and it is ten times so woode.

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This wal, which that bitwixe hem bothe stoode, Was cloven atwoo, right fro the toppe adoune, Of olde tyme, of his foundacioun.

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But yit this clyft was so narwe and lite
Yt was nat seene, deere ynogh a myte;
But what is that that love kannat espye?
Ye lovers twoo, yf that I shal nat lye,
Ye founden first this litel narwe clifte,
And with a soune as softe as any shryfte,
They leete hir wordes thurgh the clifte pace,
And tolden, while that they stoden in the place,
Al hire compleynt of love, and al hire woo.
At every tyme whan they dorste soo,
Upon the o syde of the walle stood he,
And on that other syde stood Tesbé,
The swoote soune of other to receyve.
And thus here wardeyns wolde they disceyve,
And every day this walle they wolde threete,
And wisshe to God that it were doune ybete.
Thus wolde they seyn:- Allas, thou wikked walle!
Thurgh thyn envye thow us lettest alle!
Why nyltow cleve, or fallen al atwo?
Or at the leeste, that thow wouldest so,
Yit woldestow but ones let us meete,
Or oones that we myghte kyssen sweete,
Than were we covered of oure cares colde.
But natheles, yit be we to the holde,
In as muche as thou suffrest for to goon

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Our wordes thurgh thy lyme and eke thy stoon, 60 Yet oghte we with the ben wel apayede.'

And whan these idel wordes weren sayde,
The colde walle they wolden kyssen of stoon,
And take hir leve, and foorth they wolden goon.
Alle this was gladly in the evetyde,

Or wonder erly, lest men it espyede.
And longe tyme they wroght in this manere,
Til on a day, whan Phebus gan to clere,
Aurora with the stremes of hire hete,
Hadde dried uppe the dewe of herbes wete,
Unto this clyfte, as it was wont to be,
Come Piramus, and after come Tesbé.
And plighten trouthe fully in here faye,
That ilke same nyght to steele awaye,
And to begile hire wardeyns everychone,
And forth out of the citee for to gone.
And, for the feeldes ben so broode and wide,
For to meete in o place at o tyde,

They sette markes; hire metyng sholde bee
Ther kyng Nynus was graven, under a tree;
(For olde payens, that ydoles heriede,
Useden thoo in feeldes to ben beriede)
And faste by his grave was a welle.
And shortly of this tale for to telle,
This covenaunt was affermed wonder faste,
And longe hem thoghte that the sonne laste,
That it nere goon under the see adoune.
This Tesbé hath so greete affeccioun,
And so grete lykynge Piramus to see,
That whan she seigh hire tyme myghte bee,
At nyght she stale awey ful prevely,
With hire face ywympled subtilly.

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