Imatges de pàgina
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And every poynt was performed in dede,
As ye have in the covenaunt herde me rede;
Hys wepne, his clywe, hys thing that I have sayde,
Was by the gayler in the house ylayde,
Ther as this Mynotaure hath hys dwellynge,
Ryghte faste by the dore at hys entrynge,
And Theseus is ladde unto hys dethe;
And forthe unto this Mynotaure he gethe,
And by the techynge of thys Adriane,
He overcome thys beste and was hys bane,
And oute he cometh by the clywe agayne
Ful prively. Whan he this beste hath slayne,
And by the gayler gotten hath a barge,
And of his wives tresure gan it charge,
And toke hys wif, and eke hire suster free,'
And by the gayler, and with hem alle three
Ys stole away out of the londe by nighte,
And to the countree of Ennapye hym dyghte,
There as he had a frende of his knowynge.
There festen they, there dauncen they and synge,
And in hys armes hath thys Adriane,

That of the beste hath kepte him from hys bane.
And gate hym there a noble barge anoon,
And of his countre folke a grete woon,

And taketh hys leve, and homewarde sayleth hee;
And in an yle, amydde the wilde see,

There as ther dwelleth creature noon
Save wilde bestes, and that ful many oon,
He made his shippe a-londe for to sette,
And in that ile halfe a day he lette,

And sayde on the londe he moste hym reste.
Hys maryneres han doon ryghte as hym leste;
And, for to telle schortly in thys case,
Whanne Adriane hys wyf aslepe was,

For that hire suster fairer was than she,
He taketh hire in hys honde, and forth gooth he

1 This, and the two preceding lines, are omitted in the Fairfax MS.

To shippe, and as a traytour stale hys way,
While that thys Adriane aslepe lay,
And to hys countree warde he sayleth blyve,
(A twenty devel way the wynde him dryve!)
And fonde hys fader drenched in the see.
Me lyste no more to speke of hym, pardee!
These fals loveres, poyson be hire bane!
But I wol turne ageyne to Adryane,
That ys with slepe for werynesse ytake;
Ful sorwfully hire herte may awake.
Allas, for the myn herte hath pitee!
Ryght in the dawenynge awaketh shee,

And gropeth in the bed, and fonde ryghte noghte.

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Allas,' quod she, 'that ever I was wroghte!

I am betrayed,' and hire heer to-rent,

And to the stronde barefote faste she went,
And cryed, 'Theseus, myn herte swete!
Where be ye, that I may not wyth yow mete?
And myghte thus with bestes ben yslayne.'
The holowe roches answerde her agayne.1
No man she sawe, and yet shone the moone,
And hye upon a rokke she went soone,
And sawe hys barge saylynge in the see.
Colde waxe hire herte, and ryghte thus sayde she:-
'Meker then ye fynde I the bestes wilde!'
(Hath he not synne, that he hire thus begylde :)
She cried, 'O turne agayne for routhe and synne,
Thy barge hath not al thy meyny ynne.'
Hire kerchefe on a pole styked shee,
Ascaunce that he shulde hyt wel ysee,
And hym remembre that she was behynde,

And turne agayne, and on the stronde hire fynde.
But al for noghte; hys wey he ys goon,

And downe she felle a-swowne on a stoon;
And up she ryste, and kyssed in al hire care
The steppes of hys fete, there he hath fare,

1 This line is omitted in the Fairfax MS.

VOL. III.

2 c

And to hire bedde ryghte thus she speketh thoo:"Thow bedde,' quoth she, 'that haste receyved twoo, Thow shalt answere of twoo and not of oon,

Where ys
Allas, where shal I wreched wyght become?
For though so be that bote noon here come,
Home to my countree dar I not for drede;
I kan my selfe in this case not rede.'

the gretter parte away goon?

What shulde I telle more hire compleynynge?
Hyt ys so longe hyt were an hevy thynge.
In hire epistel Naso1 telleth alle,
But shortly to the ende tel I shalle..
The goddys have hire holpen for pitee,
And in the sygne of Taurus men may see
The stones of hire corowne shyne clere;
I wol no more speke of thys matere.
But thus these false loveres kan begyle

Hire trewe love; the devel quyte hym hys while!

EXPLICIT LEGENDA ADRIANE DE ATHENES.

THO

INCIPIT LEGENDA PHILOMENE.2

HOW yiver of the formes, that haste wroghte The fayre worlde,3 and bare hit in thy thoghte Eternally or thow thy werke began,

Why madest thow unto the sklaunder of man,—
Or al be that hyt was not thy doynge,
As for that fyne to make suche a thynge,—
Why suffrest thou that Tereus was bore,
That ys in love so fals and so forswore,

1 Incumbo; lachrymisque toro manante profusis,
Pressimus, exclamo, te duo: redde duos.
Venimus huc ambo; cur non discedimus ambo?
Perfide, pars nostri, lectule, major ubi est ?'
Heroid. Ep. X.

Ovid, Met. vi.

In the margin of Fairfax MS. 16 is written 'Deus dator Formator.'

That fro thys worlde up to the firste hevene Corrumpeth, whanne that folke hys name nevene? And as to me, so grisly was hys dede,

That whanne that I this foule story rede,

Myn eyen wexen foule and sore also;
Yet laste the venyme of so longe ago,
That enfecteth hym that wolde beholde
The story of Tereus, of which I tolde.
Of Trace was he lorde, and kynne to Marte,
The cruelle god that stante with blody darte,
And wedded had he, with blisful chere,
King Pandyones faire doghter dere,

That hyghte Proygne, floure of hire countree;
Though Juno liste not at the feste bee,
Ne Ymeneus, that god of weddyng is.
But at the feste redy ben, ywys,

The furies thre, with al hire mortal bronde.
The owle al nyghte about the balkes wonde,
That prophete ys of woo and of myschaunce.
This revel, ful of songe, and ful of daunce,
Laste a fourtenyghte or lyttel lasse.
But shortly of this story for to passe,
(For I am wery of hym for to telle)
Fyve yere hys wyf and he togeder dwelle;
Til on a day she gan so sore longe

To seen hire suster, that she sawgh not longe,
That for desire she nyste what to seye,
But to hire housbonde gan she for to preye
For Goddys love, that she moste ones goon
Hire suster for to seen, and come anoon.
Or elles but she moste to hire wende,
She preyde hym that he wolde after hire sende.
And thys was day be day al hire prayere,
With al humblesse of wyfhode, worde and chere.
This Tereus let make hys shippes yare,

And into Grece hymselfe ys forthe yfare,
Unto hys fader in lawe, and gan hym preye,
To vouche sauf that for a moneth or tweye,

That Philomene, his wyfes suster, myghte
On Progne hys wyf but ones have a syghte;
'And she shal come to yow agayne anoon,
My selfe with hire, I wil bothe come and goon,
And as myn hertes lyf I wol hire kepe.'

Thys olde Pandeon, thys kynge, gan wepe
For tendernesse of herte for to leve

Hys doghtre goon, and for to yive hire leve;
Of al thys worlde he loved nothinge soo;
But at the laste leve hath she to go.
For Philomene with salte teres eke
Gan of hire fader grace to beseke,
To seen hire sustre that hire longeth soo,
And hym embraceth with hire armes twoo.
And ther alle so yonge and faire was she,
That whanne that Tereus sawgh hire beaute,
And of array that ther nas noon hire lyche,
And yet of bounte was she to so ryche,
He caste hys firy herte upon hire soo,
That he wol have hire how soo that hyt goo,
And with hys wiles kneled and so preyde,
Til at the laste Pandeon thus seyde:-

'Now sone,' quod he, 'that arte to me so dere,
I the betake my yonge doghtre dere,
That bereth the key of al myn hertes lyf.
And grete wel my doghter and thy wyf,
And yeve hire leve sommetyme for to pleye,
That she may seen me oones or I deye.'
And sothely he hath made him ryche feste,
And to hys folke, the moste and eke the leste,
That with him come: and yaf him yeftes grete,
And him conveyeth thurgh the maister strete
Of Athenes, and to the see him broghte,
And turneth home; no malyce he ne thoghte.
The ores pulleth forthe the vessel faste,
And into Trace arryveth at the laste;
And up into a forest he hire ledde,
And into a cave ful prively hym spedde,

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