Book XXII. gazes, the more he is wounded. She leaves the temple; and Achilles, with love look, gazes after her. He returns to his tent, and goes to rest; but thoughts of Polyxena keep him awake. "Unworthy wretch that I am! The bravest and sternest in battle, even Hector himself, could not vanquish me: 9156 The sarre woundit he was, & his wille hatter. Lo, so sodainly with sight in a sad hast, A whe may be woundit purgh wille of hym seluyn ! Thus, Achilles by chaunse is chaltrid in grym, 9160 With loue of this lady, pat ledis to pe dethe. All the care of his cure the kyng has forgeton, And all meuit out of mynd saue the maidon one ! When be day ouerdrogh to be due tyme, 9164 Ecuba the honerable, & hir awne doghter, Turnyt from the temple and to toune yode; Wentton hom wightly, weppit nomore. The lede loked hir after with a loue egh, 9168 ffolowand on fer, þat fre to beholde, hat was cause of his combranse & his cold dethe: pan with langur of lust, & of loue hote, He was stithly astondid, stird into poght. 9172 So he passid the port, & his pale entrid, Turnyt into tent, takon full hard. The buerne into bed busket anon, Seke & vnsound, set out of hele: 9176 Mony thoghtes full pro prang hym within, He feld in his fare, & his fell hert, bat the cause of his combraunse was the clere 9180 Thies wordes, in his wo, witturly he said, 66 haue kyld, 9184 Might non abate of my blysse, ne my ble chaunge. Noght Ector of all other, oddist of knightes, Hade no sleght me to sle, ne to slyng vnder, 9188 Ne ouercome LOVE FOR POLYXENA. me by course with his clene A ffrele woman me fades, & my fas chaunges, And has gird me to ground, & my gost feblit! Syn ho is cause of my care, & my cold angur, Att what leche vppon lyue might I laite hele? 9192 There is no medeyn on mold, saue the maiden one, hat my sors might salue, ne me sound make. The whiche pof I loue, & langwisshe to dethe, With prayer, with prise, ne with pure strenght, 9196 Ne for worthines of wer, ne of wale dedis. What wildnes, or worship, waknet my hert 9200 Hir fadur & hir fryndis, fond to distroy, And hir brother haue britnet, pe best vpon erthe? 299 Book XXII. but a frail (fol. 142 a.) What hard fate Or, why should I desire her, so far above me? And passes of pertnes pure wemen all? Hit semith me vnsertain, all serchyng of wayes; But I see no Ys stokyn vp full stithly, shuld streche to my hele!" remedy!" bed and weeps. 9208 pen he turnys in his tene, & terys on his chekes He turns on his Ronen full rifely, for his ranke sorow. pen he driet vp the dropes, & dreghly can syle. On all wise in this world he his wit cast, 9212 ffor to wyn to his will, if werdis noght let. Asket water at his weghes, wesshed hym anone, 9216 And dride vp his dropes for dymyng his ene. HOW ACHILLES SENTTO ECUBA FOR HIR DOGHTER 9220 POLEXENA. Anon as the night passid, & neghid the day, On suche couenaund to kepe, yf þat dere wold, The mon, þat this message meuit for to do, Was a seruond full sure of the same kynges. 9232 When he hade told hym pis tale, toght hym to go, He made hym redy full rad, ron to the toun, Esely to Ecuba etlit he anon, And all his charge, to pat chefe, choisly he said. 9236 The worthy, to þat wegh, þat was of wit noble, Depe of discrecioun, in dole pof sho were, 9240 9244 Sho herknet hym full hyndly, & with hert gode, In pat at menys to me, with my might hole SHE CONSULTS PRIAM AND PARIS. 9248 full onsware, in faith I forme pe not here, 9252 301 Book XXII. But come the thrid day, full proly, withoutyn Three days hence prepe more, Sew to my selfe, & I the say wille Vne faithly before, as hit fare shall." When the messanger hade melit with pe myld qwene, Than he lut to pe lady, & his leue toke, he shall have my answer.' (fol. 143 a.) Meuit to his maistur, & the mater told. ben comford he caght in his cole hert, 9256 Thus hengit in hope, & his hele mendit : This honerable Ecuba, eft, when hir liked, 9264 Doun hengond his hed, herkonyng the qwene: Hecuba recounts the matter to Priam and Paris. Priam is sore perplexed: but at length answers: "A! how hard were my hert, to hold hym as "It is a hard thing frend, 9268 That so highly me hyndret, & my hate seruet ! All the leght has he lost fro my leue ene, Thurgh slaght of my son, þat my sore ekys! ffor whose dethe, vppon dayes, all the derfe grekes 9272 Hertyn hom full hogely, my harmes to encres. But to fle all the offence, & fortune to come, In sauyng of my selffe & my sons als; hat I may lyff in my lond in my last dayes, 9276 Out of batell & baret in my bare eld, I assent to pi sagh, vpon soche wise, bat he pis forward fulfille, & before do, to hold him as my friend, who has taken away the light of mine eyes. But to eschew further evils, I assent to the proposal, provided that he " honestly fulfil his part." And with no gawdes me begile, ne to greue ferre." On the third day the messenger returns. (fol. 143 b.) Hecuba states that Achilles shall have Polyxena when he performs what he has promised. Achilles rejoices that his suit has been accepted; and plans how he may accomplish what he has promised. 9284 9288 9296 The prise wordes of Priam Paris alowet, So pat his wiffe, o nowise,-worshipfull Elan,- grece, But leng in þat lond to hir lyues end. "I haue wetyn the wille of my wale kyng, 9300 9304 In the hete of his hert, for his hegh lust, To proffer soche prise thing, pat passis his might, 9312 And festyn in forward, þat hym for-thinkes after. |