Part 7

Dame Hermyngheld, which was the wif Of Elda, lich hire oghne lif 750 Constance loveth; and fell so, Spekende alday betwen hem two, Thurgh grace of goddes pourveance This maiden tawhte the creance Unto this wif so parfitly, Upon a dai that faste by In presence of hire housebonde, Wher thei go walkende on the Stronde, A blind man, which cam there lad, Unto this wif criende he bad, 760 With bothe hise hondes up and preide To hire, and in this wise he seide: “O Hermyngeld, which Cristes feith, Enformed as Constance seith, Received hast, yif me my sihte.”

Upon his word hire herte afflihte Thenkende what was best to done, Bot natheles sche herde his bone And seide, “In trust of Cristes lawe, Which don was on the crois and slawe, 770 Thou bysne man, behold and se.” With that to god upon his kne Thonkende he tok his sihte anon, Wherof thei merveile everychon, Bot Elda wondreth most of alle: This open thing which is befalle Concludeth him be such a weie, That he the feith mot nede obeie.

Now lest what fell upon this thing. This Elda forth unto the king 780 A morwe tok his weie and rod, And Hermyngeld at home abod Forth with Constance wel at ese. Elda, which thoghte his king to plese, As he that thanne unwedded was, Of Constance al the pleine cas Als goodliche as he cowthe tolde. The king was glad and seide he wolde Come thider upon such a wise That he him mihte of hire avise, 790 The time apointed forth withal. This Elda triste in special Upon a knyht, whom fro childhode He hadde updrawe into manhode: To him he tolde al that he thoghte, Wherof that after him forthoghte; And natheles at thilke tide Unto his wif he bad him ride To make redi alle thing Ayein the cominge of the king, 800 And seith that he himself tofore Thenkth forto come, and bad therfore That he him kepe, and told him whanne. This knyht rod forth his weie thanne; And soth was that of time passed He hadde in al his wit compassed How he Constance myhte winne; Bot he sih tho no sped therinne, Wherof his lust began tabate, And that was love is thanne hate; 810 Of hire honour he hadde Envie, So that upon his tricherie A lesinge in his herte he caste. Til he cam home he hieth faste, And doth his ladi tunderstonde The Message of hire housebonde: And therupon the longe dai Thei setten thinges in arrai, That al was as it scholde be Of every thing in his degree; 820 And whan it cam into the nyht, This wif hire hath to bedde dyht, Wher that this Maiden with hire lay. This false knyht upon delay Hath taried til thei were aslepe, As he that wolde his time kepe His dedly werkes to fulfille; And to the bed he stalketh stille, Wher that he wiste was the wif, And in his hond a rasour knif 830 He bar, with which hire throte he cutte, And prively the knif he putte Under that other beddes side, Wher that Constance lai beside. Elda cam hom the same nyht, And stille with a prive lyht, As he that wolde noght awake His wif, he hath his weie take Into the chambre, and ther liggende He fond his dede wif bledende, 840 Wher that Constance faste by Was falle aslepe; and sodeinly He cride alowd, and sche awok, And forth withal sche caste a lok And sih this ladi blede there, Wherof swoundende ded for fere Sche was, and stille as eny Ston She lay, and Elda therupon Into the Castell clepeth oute, And up sterte every man aboute, 850 Into the chambre and forth thei wente. Bot he, which alle untrouthe mente, This false knyht, among hem alle Upon this thing which is befalle Seith that Constance hath don this dede; And to the bed with that he yede After the falshed of his speche, And made him there forto seche, And fond the knif, wher he it leide, And thanne he cride and thanne he seide, 860 “Lo, seth the knif al blody hiere! What nedeth more in this matiere To axe?” And thus hire innocence He sclaundreth there in audience With false wordes whiche he feigneth. Bot yit for al that evere he pleigneth, Elda no full credence tok: And happeth that ther lay a bok, Upon the which, whan he it sih, This knyht hath swore and seid on hih, 870 That alle men it mihte wite, “Now be this bok, which hier is write, Constance is gultif, wel I wot.” With that the hond of hevene him smot In tokne of that he was forswore, That he hath bothe hise yhen lore, Out of his hed the same stounde Thei sterte, and so thei weren founde. A vois was herd, whan that they felle, Which seide, “O dampned man to helle, 880 Lo, thus hath god the sclaundre wroke That thou ayein Constance hast spoke: Beknow the sothe er that thou dye.” And he told out his felonie, And starf forth with his tale anon. Into the ground, wher alle gon, This dede lady was begrave: Elda, which thoghte his honour save, Al that he mai restreigneth sorwe.

For the seconde day a morwe 890 The king cam, as thei were acorded; And whan it was to him recorded What god hath wroght upon this chaunce, He tok it into remembrance And thoghte more than he seide. For al his hole herte he leide Upon Constance, and seide he scholde For love of hire, if that sche wolde, Baptesme take and Cristes feith Believe, and over that he seith 900 He wol hire wedde, and upon this Asseured ech til other is. And forto make schorte tales, Ther cam a Bisschop out of Wales Fro Bangor, and Lucie he hihte, Which thurgh the grace of god almihte The king with many an other mo Hath cristned, and betwen hem tuo He hath fulfild the mariage. Bot for no lust ne for no rage 910 Sche tolde hem nevere what sche was; And natheles upon the cas The king was glad, how so it stod, For wel he wiste and understod Sche was a noble creature. The hihe makere of nature Hire hath visited in a throwe, That it was openliche knowe Sche was with childe be the king, Wherof above al other thing 920 He thonketh god and was riht glad. And fell that time he was bestad Upon a werre and moste ride; And whil he scholde there abide, He lefte at hom to kepe his wif Suche as he knew of holi lif, Elda forth with the Bisschop eke; And he with pouer goth to seke Ayein the Scottes forto fonde The werre which he tok on honde. 930

The time set of kinde is come, This lady hath hire chambre nome, And of a Sone bore full, Wherof that sche was joiefull, Sche was delivered sauf and sone. The bisshop, as it was to done, Yaf him baptesme and Moris calleth; And therupon, as it befalleth, With lettres writen of record Thei sende unto here liege lord, 940 That kepers weren of the qweene: And he that scholde go betwene, The Messager, to Knaresburgh, Which toun he scholde passe thurgh, Ridende cam the ferste day. The kinges Moder there lay, Whos rihte name was Domilde, Which after al the cause spilde: For he, which thonk deserve wolde, Unto this ladi goth and tolde 950 Of his Message al how it ferde. And sche with feigned joie it herde And yaf him yiftes largely, Bot in the nyht al prively Sche tok the lettres whiche he hadde, Fro point to point and overradde, As sche that was thurghout untrewe, And let do wryten othre newe In stede of hem, and thus thei spieke:

“Oure liege lord, we thee beseke 960 That thou with ous ne be noght wroth, Though we such thing as is thee loth Upon oure trowthe certefie. Thi wif, which is of faierie, Of such a child delivered is Fro kinde which stant al amis: Bot for it scholde noght be seie, We have it kept out of the weie For drede of pure worldes schame, A povere child and in the name 970 Of thilke which is so misbore We toke, and therto we be swore, That non bot only thou and we Schal knowen of this privete: Moris it hatte, and thus men wene That it was boren of the qweene And of thin oghne bodi gete. Bot this thing mai noght be foryete, That thou ne sende ous word anon What is thi wille therupon.” 980

This lettre, as thou hast herd devise, Was contrefet in such a wise That noman scholde it aperceive: And sche, which thoghte to deceive, It leith wher sche that other tok. This Messager, whan he awok, And wiste nothing how it was, Aros and rod the grete pas And tok this lettre to the king. And whan he sih this wonder thing, 990 He makth the Messager no chiere, Bot natheles in wys manere He wrote ayein, and yaf hem charge That thei ne soffre noght at large His wif to go, bot kepe hire stille, Til thei have herd mor of his wille. This Messager was yifteles, Bot with this lettre natheles, Or be him lief or be him loth, In alle haste ayein he goth 1000 Be Knaresburgh, and as he wente, Unto the Moder his entente Of that he fond toward the king He tolde; and sche upon this thing Seith that he scholde abide al nyht And made him feste and chiere ariht, Feignende as thogh sche cowthe him thonk. Bot he with strong wyn which he dronk Forth with the travail of the day Was drunke, aslepe and while he lay, 1010 Sche hath hise lettres overseie And formed in an other weie.

Ther was a newe lettre write, Which seith: “I do you forto wite, That thurgh the conseil of you tuo I stonde in point to ben undo, As he which is a king deposed. For every man it hath supposed, How that my wif Constance is faie; And if that I, thei sein, delaie 1020 To put hire out of compaignie, The worschipe of my Regalie Is lore; and over this thei telle, Hire child schal noght among hem duelle, To cleymen eny heritage. So can I se non avantage, Bot al is lost, if sche abide: Forthi to loke on every side Toward the meschief as it is, I charge you and bidde this, 1030 That ye the same Schip vitaile, In which that sche tok arivaile, Therinne and putteth bothe tuo, Hireself forthwith hire child also, And so forth broght unto the depe Betaketh hire the See to kepe. Of foure daies time I sette, That ye this thing no longer lette, So that your lif be noght forsfet.” And thus this lettre contrefet 1040 The Messager, which was unwar, Upon the kingeshalve bar, And where he scholde it hath betake. Bot whan that thei have hiede take, And rad that writen is withinne, So gret a sorwe thei beginne, As thei here oghne Moder sihen Brent in a fyr before here yhen: Ther was wepinge and ther was wo, Bot finaly the thing is do. 1050

Upon the See thei have hire broght, Bot sche the cause wiste noght, And thus upon the flod thei wone, This ladi with hire yonge Sone: And thanne hire handes to the hevene Sche strawhte, and with a milde stevene Knelende upon hire bare kne Sche seide, “O hihe mageste, Which sest the point of every trowthe, Tak of thi wofull womman rowthe 1060 And of this child that I schal kepe.” And with that word sche gan to wepe, Swounende as ded, and ther sche lay; Bot he which alle thinges may Conforteth hire, and ate laste Sche loketh and hire yhen caste Upon hire child and seide this: “Of me no maner charge it is What sorwe I soffre, bot of thee Me thenkth it is a gret pite, 1070 For if I sterve thou schalt deie: So mot I nedes be that weie For Moderhed and for tendresse With al myn hole besinesse Ordeigne me for thilke office, As sche which schal be thi Norrice.” Thus was sche strengthed forto stonde; And tho sche tok hire child in honde And yaf it sowke, and evere among Sche wepte, and otherwhile song 1080 To rocke with hire child aslepe: And thus hire oghne child to kepe Sche hath under the goddes cure.

And so fell upon aventure, Whan thilke yer hath mad his ende, Hire Schip, so as it moste wende Thurgh strengthe of wynd which god hath yive, Estward was into Spaigne drive Riht faste under a Castell wall, Wher that an hethen Amirall 1090 Was lord, and he a Stieward hadde, Oon Thelous, which al was badde, A fals knyht and a renegat. He goth to loke in what astat The Schip was come, and there he fond Forth with a child upon hire hond This lady, wher sche was al one. He tok good hiede of the persone, And sih sche was a worthi wiht, And thoghte he wolde upon the nyht 1100 Demene hire at his oghne wille, And let hire be therinne stille, That mo men sih sche noght that dai. At goddes wille and thus sche lai, Unknowe what hire schal betide; And fell so that be nyhtes tide This knyht withoute felaschipe Hath take a bot and cam to Schipe, And thoghte of hire his lust to take, And swor, if sche him daunger make, 1110 That certeinly sche scholde deie. Sche sih ther was non other weie, And seide he scholde hire wel conforte, That he ferst loke out ate porte, That noman were nyh the stede, Which myhte knowe what thei dede, And thanne he mai do what he wolde. He was riht glad that sche so tolde, And to the porte anon he ferde: Sche preide god, and he hire herde, 1120 And sodeinliche he was out throwe And dreynt, and tho began to blowe A wynd menable fro the lond, And thus the myhti goddes hond Hire hath conveied and defended.

And whan thre yer be full despended, Hire Schip was drive upon a dai, Wher that a gret Navye lay Of Schipes, al the world at ones: And as god wolde for the nones, 1130 Hire Schip goth in among hem alle, And stinte noght, er it be falle And hath the vessell undergete, Which Maister was of al the Flete, Bot there it resteth and abod. This grete Schip on Anker rod; The Lord cam forth, and whan he sih That other ligge abord so nyh, He wondreth what it myhte be, And bad men to gon in and se. 1140 This ladi tho was crope aside, As sche that wolde hireselven hide, For sche ne wiste what thei were: Thei soghte aboute and founde hir there And broghten up hire child and hire; And therupon this lord to spire Began, fro whenne that sche cam, And what sche was. Quod sche, “I am A womman wofully bestad. I hadde a lord, and thus he bad, 1150 That I forth with my litel Sone Upon the wawes scholden wone, Bot why the cause was, I not: Bot he which alle thinges wot Yit hath, I thonke him, of his miht Mi child and me so kept upriht, That we be save bothe tuo.” This lord hire axeth overmo How sche believeth, and sche seith, “I lieve and triste in Cristes feith, 1160 Which deide upon the Rode tree.” “What is thi name?” tho quod he. “Mi name is Couste,” sche him seide: Bot forthermor for noght he preide Of hire astat to knowe plein, Sche wolde him nothing elles sein Bot of hir name, which sche feigneth; Alle othre thinges sche restreigneth, That a word more sche ne tolde. This lord thanne axeth if sche wolde 1170 With him abide in compaignie, And seide he cam fro Barbarie To Romeward, and hom he wente. Tho sche supposeth what it mente, And seith sche wolde with him wende And duelle unto hire lyves ende, Be so it be to his plesance. And thus upon here aqueintance He tolde hire pleinly as it stod, Of Rome how that the gentil blod 1180 In Barbarie was betraied, And therupon he hath assaied Be werre, and taken such vengance, That non of al thilke alliance, Be whom the tresoun was compassed, Is from the swerd alyve passed; Bot of Constance hou it was, That cowthe he knowe be no cas, Wher sche becam, so as he seide.

Hire Ere unto his word sche leide, 1190 Bot forther made sche no chiere. And natheles in this matiere It happeth thilke time so: This Lord, with whom sche scholde go, Of Rome was the Senatour, And of hir fader themperour His brother doughter hath to wyve, Which hath hir fader ek alyve, And was Salustes cleped tho; This wif Heleine hihte also, 1200 To whom Constance was Cousine. Thus to the sike a medicine Hath god ordeined of his grace, That forthwith in the same place This Senatour his trowthe plihte, For evere, whil he live mihte, To kepe in worschipe and in welthe, Be so that god wol yive hire helthe, This ladi, which fortune him sende. And thus be Schipe forth sailende 1210 Hire and hir child to Rome he broghte, And to his wif tho he besoghte To take hire into compaignie: And sche, which cowthe of courtesie Al that a good wif scholde konne, Was inly glad that sche hath wonne The felaschip of so good on. Til tuelve yeres were agon, This Emperoures dowhter Custe Forth with the dowhter of Saluste 1220 Was kept, bot noman redily Knew what sche was, and noght forthi Thei thoghten wel sche hadde be In hire astat of hih degre, And every lif hire loveth wel.

Now herke how thilke unstable whel, Which evere torneth, wente aboute. The king Allee, whil he was oute, As thou tofore hast herd this cas, Deceived thurgh his Moder was: 1230 Bot whan that he cam hom ayein, He axeth of his Chamberlein And of the Bisschop ek also, Wher thei the qweene hadden do. And thei answerde, there he bad, And have him thilke lettre rad, Which he hem sende for warant, And tolde him pleinli as it stant, And sein, it thoghte hem gret pite To se so worthi on as sche, 1240 With such a child as ther was bore, So sodeinly to be forlore. He axeth hem what child that were; And thei him seiden, that naghere, In al the world thogh men it soghte, Was nevere womman that forth broghte A fairer child than it was on. And thanne he axede hem anon, Whi thei ne hadden write so: Thei tolden, so thei hadden do. 1250 He seide, “Nay.” Thei seiden, “Yis.” The lettre schewed rad it is, Which thei forsoken everidel. Tho was it understonde wel That ther is tresoun in the thing: The Messager tofore the king Was broght and sodeinliche opposed; And he, which nothing hath supposed Bot alle wel, began to seie That he nagher upon the weie 1260 Abod, bot only in a stede; And cause why that he so dede Was, as he wente to and fro, At Knaresburgh be nyhtes tuo The kinges Moder made him duelle. And whan the king it herde telle, Withinne his herte he wiste als faste The treson which his Moder caste; And thoghte he wolde noght abide, Bot forth riht in the same tide 1270 He tok his hors and rod anon. With him ther riden manion, To Knaresburgh and forth thei wente, And lich the fyr which tunder hente, In such a rage, as seith the bok, His Moder sodeinliche he tok And seide unto hir in this wise: “O beste of helle, in what juise Hast thou deserved forto deie, That hast so falsly put aweie 1280 With tresoun of thi bacbitinge The treweste at my knowlechinge Of wyves and the most honeste? Bot I wol make this beheste, I schal be venged er I go.” And let a fyr do make tho, And bad men forto caste hire inne: Bot ferst sche tolde out al the sinne, And dede hem alle forto wite How sche the lettres hadde write, 1290 Fro point to point as it was wroght. And tho sche was to dethe broght And brent tofore hire Sones yhe: Wherof these othre, whiche it sihe And herden how the cause stod, Sein that the juggement is good, Of that hir Sone hire hath so served; For sche it hadde wel deserved Thurgh tresoun of hire false tunge, Which thurgh the lond was after sunge, 1300 Constance and every wiht compleigneth. Bot he, whom alle wo distreigneth, This sorghfull king, was so bestad, That he schal nevermor be glad, He seith, eftsone forto wedde, Til that he wiste how that sche spedde, Which hadde ben his ferste wif: And thus his yonge unlusti lif He dryveth forth so as he mai.

Til it befell upon a dai, 1310 Whan he hise werres hadde achieved, And thoghte he wolde be relieved Of Soule hele upon the feith Which he hath take, thanne he seith That he to Rome in pelrinage Wol go, wher Pope was Pelage, To take his absolucioun. And upon this condicioun He made Edwyn his lieutenant, Which heir to him was apparant, 1320 That he the lond in his absence Schal reule: and thus be providence Of alle thinges wel begon He tok his leve and forth is gon. Elda, which tho was with him there, Er thei fulliche at Rome were, Was sent tofore to pourveie; And he his guide upon the weie, In help to ben his herbergour, Hath axed who was Senatour, 1330 That he his name myhte kenne. Of Capadoce, he seide, Arcenne He hihte, and was a worthi kniht. To him goth Elda tho forth riht And tolde him of his lord tidinge, And preide that for his comynge He wolde assigne him herbergage; And he so dede of good corage.

Whan al is do that was to done, The king himself cam after sone. 1340 This Senatour, whan that he com, To Couste and to his wif at hom Hath told how such a king Allee Of gret array to the Citee Was come, and Couste upon his tale With herte clos and colour pale Aswoune fell, and he merveileth So sodeinly what thing hire eyleth, And cawhte hire up, and whan sche wok, Sche syketh with a pitous lok 1350 And feigneth seknesse of the See; Bot it was for the king Allee, For joie which fell in hire thoght That god him hath to toune broght. This king hath spoke with the Pope And told al that he cowthe agrope, What grieveth in his conscience; And thanne he thoghte in reverence Of his astat, er that he wente, To make a feste, and thus he sente 1360 Unto the Senatour to come Upon the morwe and othre some, To sitte with him at the mete. This tale hath Couste noght foryete, Bot to Moris hire Sone tolde That he upon the morwe scholde In al that evere he cowthe and mihte Be present in the kinges sihte, So that the king him ofte sihe. Moris tofore the kinges yhe 1370 Upon the morwe, wher he sat, Fulofte stod, and upon that The king his chiere upon him caste, And in his face him thoghte als faste He sih his oghne wif Constance; For nature as in resemblance Of face hem liketh so to clothe, That thei were of a suite bothe. The king was moeved in his thoght Of that he seth, and knoweth it noght; 1380 This child he loveth kindely, And yit he wot no cause why. Bot wel he sih and understod That he toward Arcenne stod, And axeth him anon riht there, If that this child his Sone were. He seide, “Yee, so I him calle, And wolde it were so befalle, Bot it is al in other wise.”

And tho began he to devise 1390 How he the childes Moder fond Upon the See from every lond Withinne a Schip was stiereles, And how this ladi helpeles Forth with hir child he hath forthdrawe. The king hath understonde his sawe, The childes name and axeth tho, And what the Moder hihte also That he him wolde telle he preide. “Moris this child is hote,” he seide, 1400 “His Moder hatte Couste, and this I not what maner name it is.” But Allee wiste wel ynowh, Wherof somdiel smylende he lowh; For Couste in Saxoun is to sein Constance upon the word Romein. Bot who that cowthe specefie What tho fell in his fantasie, And how his wit aboute renneth Upon the love in which he brenneth, 1410 It were a wonder forto hiere: For he was nouther ther ne hiere, Bot clene out of himself aweie, That he not what to thenke or seie, So fain he wolde it were sche. Wherof his hertes privete Began the werre of yee and nay, The which in such balance lay, That contenance for a throwe He loste, til he mihte knowe 1420 The sothe: bot in his memoire The man which lith in purgatoire Desireth noght the hevene more, That he ne longeth al so sore To wite what him schal betide. And whan the bordes were aside And every man was rise aboute, The king hath weyved al the route, And with the Senatour al one He spak and preide him of a bone, 1430 To se this Couste, wher sche duelleth At hom with him, so as he telleth. The Senatour was wel appaied, This thing no lengere is delaied, To se this Couste goth the king; And sche was warned of the thing, And with Heleine forth sche cam Ayein the king, and he tho nam Good hiede, and whan he sih his wif, Anon with al his hertes lif 1440 He cawhte hire in his arm and kiste. Was nevere wiht that sih ne wiste A man that more joie made, Wherof thei weren alle glade Whiche herde tellen of this chance.

This king tho with his wif Constance, Which hadde a gret part of his wille, In Rome for a time stille Abod and made him wel at ese: Bot so yit cowthe he nevere plese 1450 His wif, that sche him wolde sein Of hire astat the trowthe plein, Of what contre that sche was bore, Ne what sche was, and yit therfore With al his wit he hath don sieke. Thus as they lihe abedde and spieke, Sche preide him and conseileth bothe, That for the worschipe of hem bothe, So as hire thoghte it were honeste, He wolde an honourable feste 1460 Make, er he wente, in the Cite, Wher themperour himself schal be: He graunteth al that sche him preide. Bot as men in that time seide, This Emperour fro thilke day That ferst his dowhter wente away He was thanne after nevere glad; Bot what that eny man him bad Of grace for his dowhter sake, That grace wolde he noght forsake; 1470 And thus ful gret almesse he dede, Wherof sche hadde many a bede.

This Emperour out of the toun Withinne a ten mile enviroun, Where as it thoghte him for the beste, Hath sondry places forto reste; And as fortune wolde tho, He was duellende at on of tho. The king Allee forth with thassent Of Couste his wif hath thider sent 1480 Moris his Sone, as he was taght, To themperour and he goth straght, And in his fader half besoghte, As he which his lordschipe soghte, That of his hihe worthinesse He wolde do so gret meknesse, His oghne toun to come and se, And yive a time in the cite, So that his fader mihte him gete That he wolde ones with him ete. 1490 This lord hath granted his requeste; And whan the dai was of the feste, In worschipe of here Emperour The king and ek the Senatour Forth with here wyves bothe tuo, With many a lord and lady mo, On horse riden him ayein; Til it befell, upon a plein Thei sihen wher he was comende. With that Constance anon preiende 1500 Spak to hir lord that he abyde, So that sche mai tofore ryde, To ben upon his bienvenue The ferste which schal him salue; And thus after hire lordes graunt Upon a Mule whyt amblaunt Forth with a fewe rod this qweene. Thei wondren what sche wolde mene, And riden after softe pas; Bot whan this ladi come was 1510 To themperour, in his presence Sche seide alowd in audience, “Mi lord, mi fader, wel you be! And of this time that I se Youre honour and your goode hele, Which is the helpe of my querele, I thonke unto the goddes myht.” For joie his herte was affliht Of that sche tolde in remembrance; And whanne he wiste it was Constance, 1520 Was nevere fader half so blithe. Wepende he keste hire ofte sithe, So was his herte al overcome; For thogh his Moder were come Fro deth to lyve out of the grave, He mihte nomor wonder have Than he hath whan that he hire sih. With that hire oghne lord cam nyh And is to themperour obeied; Bot whan the fortune is bewreied, 1530 How that Constance is come aboute, So hard an herte was non oute, That he for pite tho ne wepte.

Arcennus, which hire fond and kepte, Was thanne glad of that is falle, So that with joie among hem alle Thei riden in at Rome gate. This Emperour thoghte al to late, Til that the Pope were come, And of the lordes sende some 1540 To preie him that he wolde haste: And he cam forth in alle haste, And whan that he the tale herde, How wonderly this chance ferde, He thonketh god of his miracle, To whos miht mai be non obstacle: The king a noble feste hem made, And thus thei weren alle glade. A parlement, er that thei wente, Thei setten unto this entente, 1550 To puten Rome in full espeir That Moris was apparant heir And scholde abide with hem stille, For such was al the londes wille.

Whan every thing was fulli spoke, Of sorwe and queint was al the smoke, Tho tok his leve Allee the king, And with full many a riche thing, Which themperour him hadde yive, He goth a glad lif forto live; 1560 For he Constance hath in his hond, Which was the confort of his lond. For whan that he cam hom ayein, Ther is no tunge it mihte sein What joie was that ilke stounde Of that he hath his qweene founde, Which ferst was sent of goddes sonde, Whan sche was drive upon the Stronde, Be whom the misbelieve of Sinne Was left, and Cristes feith cam inne 1570 To hem that whilom were blinde.

Bot he which hindreth every kinde And for no gold mai be forboght, The deth comende er he be soght, Tok with this king such aqueintance, That he with al his retenance Ne mihte noght defende his lif; And thus he parteth from his wif, Which thanne made sorwe ynowh. And therupon hire herte drowh 1580 To leven Engelond for evere And go wher that sche hadde levere, To Rome, whenne that sche cam: And thus of al the lond sche nam Hir leve, and goth to Rome ayein. And after that the bokes sein, She was noght there bot a throwe, Whan deth of kinde hath overthrowe Hir worthi fader, which men seide That he betwen hire armes deide. 1590 And afterward the yer suiende The god hath mad of hire an ende, And fro this worldes faierie Hath take hire into compaignie. Moris hir Sone was corouned, Which so ferforth was abandouned To Cristes feith, that men him calle Moris the cristeneste of alle.

And thus the wel meninge of love Was ate laste set above; 1600 And so as thou hast herd tofore, The false tunges weren lore, Whiche upon love wolden lie. Forthi touchende of this Envie Which longeth unto bacbitinge, Be war thou make no lesinge In hindringe of an other wiht: And if thou wolt be tawht ariht What meschief bakbitinge doth Be other weie, a tale soth 1610 Now miht thou hiere next suiende, Which to this vice is acordende.

In a Cronique, as thou schalt wite, A gret ensample I finde write, Which I schal telle upon this thing. Philippe of Macedoyne kyng Two Sones hadde be his wif, Whos fame is yit in Grece rif: Demetrius the ferste brother Was hote, and Perseus that other. 1620 Demetrius men seiden tho The betre knyht was of the tuo, To whom the lond was entendant, As he which heir was apparant To regne after his fader dai: Bot that thing which no water mai Quenche in this world, bot evere brenneth, Into his brother herte it renneth, The proude Envie of that he sih His brother scholde clymbe on hih, 1630 And he to him mot thanne obeie: That may he soffre be no weie. With strengthe dorst he nothing fonde, So tok he lesinge upon honde, Whan he sih time and spak therto. For it befell that time so, His fader grete werres hadde With Rome, whiche he streite ladde Thurgh mihty hond of his manhode, As he which hath ynowh knihthode, 1640 And ofte hem hadde sore grieved. Bot er the werre were achieved, As he was upon ordinance At hom in Grece, it fell per chance, Demetrius, which ofte aboute Ridende was, stod that time oute, So that this Perse in his absence, Which bar the tunge of pestilence, With false wordes whiche he feigneth Upon his oghne brother pleigneth 1650 In privete behinde his bak, And to his fader thus he spak:

“Mi diere fader, I am holde Be weie of kinde, as resoun wolde, That I fro yow schal nothing hide, Which mihte torne in eny side Of youre astat into grevance: Forthi myn hertes obeissance Towardes you I thenke kepe; For it is good ye take kepe 1660 Upon a thing which is me told. Mi brother hath ous alle sold To hem of Rome, and you also; For thanne they behote him so, That he with hem schal regne in pes. Thus hath he cast for his encress That youre astat schal go to noght; And this to proeve schal be broght So ferforth, that I undertake It schal noght wel mow be forsake.” 1670

The king upon this tale ansuerde And seide, if this thing which he herde Be soth and mai be broght to prove, “It schal noght be to his behove, Which so hath schapen ous the werste, For he himself schal be the ferste That schal be ded, if that I mai.”

Thus afterward upon a dai, Whan that Demetrius was come, Anon his fader hath him nome, 1680 And bad unto his brother Perse That he his tale schal reherse Of thilke tresoun which he tolde. And he, which al untrowthe wolde, Conseileth that so hih a nede Be treted wher as it mai spede, In comun place of juggement. The king therto yaf his assent, Demetrius was put in hold, Wherof that Perseus was bold. 1690 Thus stod the trowthe under the charge, And the falshede goth at large, Which thurgh beheste hath overcome The greteste of the lordes some, That privelich of his acord Thei stonde as witnesse of record: The jugge was mad favorable: Thus was the lawe deceivable So ferforth that the trowthe fond Rescousse non, and thus the lond 1700 Forth with the king deceived were.

The gulteles was dampned there And deide upon accusement: Bot such a fals conspirement, Thogh it be prive for a throwe, Godd wolde noght it were unknowe; And that was afterward wel proved In him which hath the deth controved. Of that his brother was so slain This Perseus was wonder fain, 1710 As he that tho was apparant, Upon the Regne and expectant; Wherof he wax so proud and vein, That he his fader in desdeign Hath take and set of non acompte, As he which thoghte him to surmonte; That wher he was ferst debonaire, He was tho rebell and contraire, And noght as heir bot as a king He tok upon him alle thing 1720 Of malice and of tirannie In contempt of the Regalie, Livende his fader, and so wroghte, That whan the fader him bethoghte And sih to whether side it drowh, Anon he wiste well ynowh How Perse after his false tunge Hath so thenvious belle runge, That he hath slain his oghne brother. Wherof as thanne he knew non other, 1730 Bot sodeinly the jugge he nom, Which corrupt sat upon the dom, In such a wise and hath him pressed, That he the sothe him hath confessed Of al that hath be spoke and do.

Mor sori than the king was tho Was nevere man upon this Molde, And thoghte in certain that he wolde Vengance take upon this wrong. Bot thother parti was so strong, 1740 That for the lawe of no statut Ther mai no riht ben execut; And upon this division The lond was torned up so doun: Wherof his herte is so distraght, That he for pure sorwe hath caght The maladie of which nature Is queint in every creature.