66 WHAT THAT I MET."
That every harme, that any man
Hath hadde syth the worlde began,
Befalle him thereof, or he sterve,
And graunt he mote hit ful deserve,
Loo, with suche a conclusioun,
As had of his avisioun
Cresus, that was kynge of Lyde,
That high upon a gebet dide.
This prayer shal he have of me;
I am no bet in charitye.
Now herkeneth, as I have yow seyde,
What that I met or I abreyde.1
Of Decembre the tenthe day,
Whan hit was nyght, to slepe I lay,
Ryght ther as I was wonte to done,
And fille on slepe wonder sone,
As he that wery was for-goo
On pilgrymage myles two
To the corseynt 2 Leonarde,
To make lythe of that was harde.
But as I slepte, me mette I was
Withyn a temple y-made of glas;
In whiche ther were moo ymages
Of golde, stondynge in sondry stages,
And moo ryche tabernacles,
And with perre3 moo pynacles,
1 Waked. Holy body, i. e., saint (Fr. corps saint). Stone.
And moo curiouse portreytures,
And queynt maner of figures
Of olde werke, then 1 I sawgh ever.
But certeynly I nyste never
Wher that I was, but wel wyste I,
Hyt was of Venus redely,
This temple; for in portreyture,
I sawgh anoon ryght hir figure
Naked fletynge 2 in a see.
And also on hir hede, parde,
Hir rose garlonde white and rede,
And hir combe to kembe hyr hede,
Hir dowves, and daun Cupido,
Hir blynde sone, and Vulcano,
That in his face was ful broune.
But as I romed up and doune,
I fonde that on a walle ther was
Thus writen on a table of brass :
"I wol now say, gif that I kan,
The armes, and also the man,
That first came, thorgh his destanee,
Fugityfe of Troy countree,
In Itayle, with ful moche pyne,
Jnto the strondes of Labyne.'
And tho began the story anoon,
As I shal telle yow echoon.
First sawgh I the destruccioun
Of Troy, thorgh the Greke Synoun,*
Floating. 3 Lavinium. Cf. Virgil's Aneid, i. 1
Cf. Canterbury Tales, 1. 14,985.
With his false forswerynge,
And his chere and his lesynge
Made the hors broght into Troye,
Thorgh which Troyens lost al her joye.
And aftir this was grave, allas !
How Ilyoun assayled was
And wonne, and kynge Priam y-slayne,
And Polite his sone, certayne,
Dispitously of daun Pirrus.
And next that sawgh I how Venus,
Whan that she sawgh the castel brende,
Doune fro the hevene gan descende,
And bad hir sone Eneas flee;
And how he fled, and how that he
Escaped was from al the pres,
And tooke his fader, Anchises,
And bare hym on his bakke away,
Cryinge" Allas, and welaway!"
The whiche Anchises in hys honde
Bare the goddesse1 of the londe,
'Thilke that unbrende were.
And I saugh next in al hys fere,
How Creusa, daun Eneas wife,
Which that he lovede as hys lyfe,
And hir yonge sone Iulo 2
And eke Askanius also,
Fledden eke with drery chere,
That hyt was pitee for to here;
And in a forest as they wente,
1 Deities. * Iulus, called also Ascanius
At a turnynge of a wente,1
How Creusa was yloste, allas!
That dede, not I how she was;
How he hir soughte, and how hir goste
Bad hym to flee the Grekes oste,
And seyde he most unto Itayle,
As was bys destanye, sauns faille,
That hyt was pitee for to here,
When hir spirite gan appere,
The wordes that she to hym seyde,
And for to kepe hir sone hym preyde.
Ther sawgh I grave eke how he,
Hys fader eke, and his meynee,*
With hys shippes gan to sayle
Towardes the contree of Itaylle,
And streight as that they myghte goo.
Ther saugh I the, crewel Juno,
That art daun Jupiteres wife,
That hast y-hated, al thy lyfe,
Alle the Troyanysshe bloode,
Renne and crye, as thou were woode,
On Eolus, the god of wyndes,
To blowe oute of alle kyndes
So lowde that he shulde drenche
Lorde, lady, grome and wenche"
Of al the Troyan nacioun,
Withoute any savacioun.
Ther saugh I suche tempeste aryse,
1 Way. 2 Dead, know not. Eneas. Household. Mad. oy and girl.
8 The shade of Creusa appeared to 6 Drown. 7 Man and woman o
THE JOURNEY OF ÆNEAS.
That every herte myght agryse,1
To see hyt peynted on the walle.
Ther saugh I graven eke withalle,
Venus, how ye, my lady dere,
Wepynge with ful woful chere,
Prayen Jupiter an hye 2
To save and kepe that navye
Of the Troyan Eneas,
Sythe that he hir sone was.
Ther saugh I Joves Venus kysse,
And on the morwe how that he
And a knyghte highte Achate,
Mette with Venus that day,
Goynge in a queynt array,
As she hadde ben an hunteresse,
With wynde blowynge upon hir tresse ;*
How Eneas gan hym to pleyne,"
Whan that he knewe hir, of his peyne;
And how his shippes dreynte were,
Or elles lost, he nyste where ;
How she gan hym comforte thoo,
And bad hym to Cartage goo,
And ther he shulde his folke fynde,
That in the see were lefte behynde.
1 Shudder. 2 Aloud. 8 Came to shore. Ci. Æneid, i 318 * Complain.
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