Book XIX. On earth, every one despises you; and in hell you must dwell with fiends. (fol. 126 a.) Thinkest thou the Greeks will trust you? Surely, it was not the god Apollo, but some fiend of hell that advised you." "Daughter, the gods would be against us, if we did not obey them. As thy fall and þi faith is foulé loste, And pe fame of þi filth so fer wilbe knowen. 8124 That the shall happon in helle hardlaikes mo, ffor thy filthe & pi falshed with fyndes to dwelle ? Hit were bettur the to byde with buernes of þi kyn, In sum wildurnes wilde, & won þere in lyf, 8128 Then the ledys vpon lyue to laithe with pi shame. Hopis pou fadur, in faith, in þi faint hert, bat pou be takon for treu with thies triet kynges, Or be holdyn in hert of þi hest stable, 8132 þat art founden so fals to pi fre londes? Now appolyn with answare hase euyll the begiled, And belirt pe with lesynges pi lose forto spille; Gert the fall fro pi fryndes, & pi faire godis, 8136 And sorily to syn, and pi selfe lose! Hit was neuer appollo the pure god, þat put the in mynd, But sum fend with his falshed, faren out of helle, þat onsward the owkewardly, ordand þe skathe, 8140 fforto set the in sorow, and pi soule tyne!" Thus the lady at the last left of hir speche, With myche sobbyng & sorow, sylyng of teris. Than the bysshop to his barne barely onswart, 8144 And shend to pat shene all in short wordes. "Ne hopis pou noght, hend doghtur, þat our hegh goddes Wold be wrothe at our werkes, & wisshe vs to skathe, If we bowet not hor biddyng, & hor bone kept. 8148 And nomly in þis note, þat noyes to pe dethe, Oure seluyn to saue, and oure saule kepe 8156 BRISEIS FORGETS TROILUS. 8160 8172 265 All the grekes were glad of þat gay lady, And comyn in companys, pat comly to se, All the souerans for sothe, into hir syre tent, And spire at hir specially of hor spede ay,— Of the tulkes of Troy, and the toun selfe ; Of the pepull full prest, & pe prise kynges : 8164 And all the maner of po men the maidon hom Troy and the tolde, she answers their questions about Trojans. 8176 Lo, so lightly ho left of hir loue hote, Book XIX. And chaunget hir chere for cherisshyng a litle ! And loke vpon lenght, er his loue come! 8180 Here leue we this lady with hir loue new, And turne to oure tale, & take pere we lefte. I know that Troy shall be destroyed, and all her people. Therefore we are better here." ffrely with faire chere, pat thei frayn wold. daughter; promise to defend her; and give her rich presents. The kynges full curtesley cald hir pere doughter, They call her, And heght hir to haue all þere helpe pen; 8168 To be worshypt well with welthis ynow; And grete giftes hir gafe all to grete kynges. Er þis day was done, or droghe to be night, All chaunget the chere of this choise maidon, And hir leuer to leng in lodge with the grekes, the Greeks. Then turne vnto Troy, or to toun wend. Now, she desires Now is Troiell, hir trew luff, tynt of hir thoght, Troilus is forgotten. (fol. 126 b.) The Greeks are pleased with Briseis; (fol. 127 a). The truce is ended: the Trojans prepare for battle. Hector, with a division of 15,000, goes forth first: then Troilus with 10,000: then Paris with the Persian archers, 2000 strong: then Deiphobus with 3000: then Æneas, and all the other leaders in their order. The Trojans were 100,000 strong. Of the Greeks 266 The xx Boke. Of the vijnt Batell, and Skarmiches Lastyng xxx dayes Betwene the Towne & the tenttes. After the monethis were meuyt of pe mene true, þen waknet vp were and myche wale sorow! 8184 The secund day suyng, says me pe lyne, There bownet vnto batell from the burgh euyn, Mony triet men of Troy, and tokyn þe fild, Euyn ordant by Ector, after his deuise. 8188 The prinse with his pouer past on first, With xv M. fully, all of fyn knightes, In his batell full bold boun to pe feld: 8192 Then Paris put furth, the percians hym with,- Vppon horses full hoge, hardy men all. 8196 Then Deffibus drogh furth, & to pe dede went, With thre M. thro men, prepond in armys. Eneas afturward with angardly mony, And oper kynges full kant, as pere course fell. 8200 As Dares in his dyting duly me tellus, The sowme of the sowdiouris, that fro pe Cité came, ffor to tell at this tyme of triet men & noble, A C. M. all hoole, herty to stryke! 8204 ffro the tenttes come tyte of the triet grekes, THE SEVENTH BATTLE. Book XX. Menelay full monly, with a manur pepull, Seuyn M. be sowme assignet for hym. Then meuit with as mony, mighty Dyomydes, 8208 And Achilles with choise men chosen of the with as many Menelaus came first with 7000 men: then Diomedes more: same. then Achilles, and Than sought furth Xantippus with sad men a Xantippus, and hepe, Agamemnon. Thre thowsaund thristy, prong to the fild. Than Agamynon the grete gird on the last, 8212 With a noyus nowmbur, nait men of strenght. The first, pat to fight past, was Philoc the kyng, Put hym furth prudly, presit to pe Troiens! Ector met hym with mayn, macchit hym so harde, 267 8216 That he gird to the ground & the gost past. And stroke hym full stithly with a stiff sworde. revenge his death. 8228 Turnit to the Troiens, tenit hom full euill; 8232 Two Dukes full derne vnto dethe kyld, (fol. 127 b.) Hector slays King hat were comyn to pe kyng with pere kyde ffull bold men in batell, & myche bale did. Hit auntrit, þat Ector was angrit full euill, 8236 Woundit full wickedly, wist not of woo, Mony woundit full wickedly, & warpit of horse. many both with "The dethe of Xantipus by Ector Slayn." Hector is severely wounded in the face; Book XX. Vne before in the face, with a fell stroke, bat myche blode fro pe buerne on þe bent fell; the Trojans are And pan bakeward was borne all pe bold Troiens, borne back towards the walls. 8240 With myche noye for pe note of pere noble prinse. Hector observes standing (fol. 128 a.) ashamed of his position, he turns in rage and kills Merion. Achilles rushes on Hector with a great spear. Hector with a fierce blow hurls through the helmet of Achilles, and stuns him. But the knight, in his kene yre, cast vp his egh, His worshipful wife, þat he well louet, þat euyn borne were pai bigly to the bare wallis Than shamet was the shalke for the shene ladies, And euyn wode of his wit wex he belyue. THE DETHE OF MYRION BY ECTOR SLAYN. 8252 He kyld þere a kyng, cosyn to Achilles,— On Merion the myghty,-thurgh the mayn dynt. He hurlet thurgh the helme, pat the hed yemed, hat the brayn all-to brast, & on bent leuyt. 8256 Achilles aurthwart this aunterd to se, Grippet to a grete speire with a grym wille; 8260 And nauther hurt he the hathell, ne hade hym to ground. pen Ector in angur, angardly fast, With the bit of his brond, on the bold light; Hurlit þurgh the helme & the hard maile. 8264 But it breke not the brayn, ne the buerne woundit. Achilles, with a chop, cheuyt on syde; All in wer for to walt, wayueronde he sote, |