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Deus dator formarum. |
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Thou yiver of the formes, that hast wroght |
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The faire world, and bare hit in thy thoght |
| 2230 |
Eternally, or thou thy werk began, |
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Why madest thou, unto the slaundre of man, |
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Or -- al be that hit was not thy doing, |
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As for that fyn to make swiche a thing -- |
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Why suffrest thou that Tereus was bore, |
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That is in love so fals and so forswore, |
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That, fro this world up to the firste hevene, |
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Corrumpeth, whan that folk his name nevene? |
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And, as to me, so grisly was his dede, |
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That, whan that I his foule story rede, |
| 2240 |
Myn eyen wexen foule and sore also; |
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Yit last the venim of so longe ago, |
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That hit enfecteth him that wol beholde |
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The story of Tereus, of which I tolde. |
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Of Trace was he lord, and kin to Marte, |
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The cruel god that stant with blody darte; |
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And wedded had he, with a blisful chere, |
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King Pandiones faire doghter dere, |
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That highte Progne, flour of her contree, |
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Thogh Iuno list nat at the feste be, |
| 2250 |
Ne Ymeneus, that god of wedding is; |
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But at the feste redy been, y-wise, |
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The furies three, with alle hir mortel brond. |
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The owle al night aboute the balkes wond, |
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That prophet is of wo and of mischaunce. |
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This revel, ful of songe and ful of daunce, |
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Lasteth a fourtenight, or litel lasse. |
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But, shortly of this story for to passe, |
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For I am wery of him for to telle, |
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Five yeer his wyf and he togeder dwelle, |
| 2260 |
Til on a day she gan so sore longe |
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To seen her suster, that she saw nat longe, |
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That for desyr she niste what to seye. |
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But to her husband gan she for to preye, |
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For goddes love, that she moste ones goon |
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Her suster for to seen, and come anoon, |
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Or elles, but she moste to her wende, |
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She preyde him, that he wolde after her sende; |
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And this was, day by day, al her prayere |
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With al humblesse of wyfhood, word, and chere. |
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| 2270 |
This Theseus let make his shippes yare, |
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And into Grece him-self is forth y-fare |
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Unto his fader in lawe, and gan him preye |
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To vouche-sauf that, for a month or tweye, |
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That Philomene, his wyves suster, mighte |
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On Progne his wyf but ones have a sighte -- |
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"And she shal come to yow again anoon. |
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Myself with her wol bothe come and goon, |
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And as myn hertes lyf I wol her kepe." |
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This olde Pandion, this king, gan wepe |
| 2280 |
For tendernesse of herte, for to leve |
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His doghter goon, and for to yive her leve; |
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Of al this world he lovede no-thing so; |
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But at the laste leve hath she to go. |
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For Philomene, with salte teres eke, |
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Gan of her fader grace to beseke |
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To seen her suster, that her longeth so; |
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And him embraceth with her armes two. |
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And therwith-al so yon and fair was she |
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That, whan that Tereus saw her beautee, |
| 2290 |
And of array that ther was noon her liche, |
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And yit of bountee was she two so riche, |
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He caste his fyry herte upon her so |
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That he wol have her, how so that hit go, |
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And with his wyles kneled and so preyde, |
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Til at the laste Pandion thus seyde: -- |
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"Now, sone," quod he, "that art to me so dere, |
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I thee betake my yonge doghter here, |
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That bereth the key of al my hertes lyf. |
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And grete wel my doghter and thy wyf, |
| 2300 |
And yive her leve somtyme for to pleye, |
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That she may seen me ones er I deye." |
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And soothly, he hath mad him riche feste, |
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And to his folk, the moste and eek the leste, |
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That with him com; and yaf him yiftes grete, |
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And him conveyeth through the maister-strete |
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Of Athenes, and to the see him broghte, |
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And turneth hoom; no malice he ne thoghte. |
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The ores pulleth forth the vessel faste, |
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And into Thrace arriveth at the laste, |
| 2310 |
And up into a forest he her ledde, |
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And to a cave privily him spedde; |
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And, in this derke cave yif her leste, |
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Or leste noghte, he bad her for to reste; |
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Of whiche her herte agroos, and seyde thus, |
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"Wher is my suster, brother Tereus?" |
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And therwith-al she wept tenderly, |
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And quook for fere, pale and pitously, |
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Right as the lamb that of the wolf is biten; |
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Or as the colver, that of the egle is smiten, |
| 2320 |
And is out of his clawes forth escaped, |
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Yet hit is afered and awhaped |
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Lest hit be hent eft-sones, so sat she. |
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But utterly hti may non other be. |
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By force hath he, this traitour, doon that dede, |
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That he hath reft her of her maydenhede, |
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Maugree her heed, by strengthe and by his might. |
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Lo! here a dede of men, and that a right! |
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She cryeth "suster!" with ful londe stevene, |
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And "fader dere!" and "help me, god in hevene!" |
| 2330 |
Al helpeth nat; and yet this false theef |
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Hath doon this lady yet a more mischeef, |
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For fere lest she sholde his shame crye, |
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And doon him openly a vilanye, |
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And with his swerd her tong of kerveth he, |
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And in a castel made her for to be |
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Ful privily in prison evermore, |
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And kepte her to his usage and his store, |
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So that she mighte him nevermore asterte. |
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O sely Philomene! wo is thyn herte; |
| 2340 |
God wreke thee, and sende thee thy bone! |
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Now is hit tyme I make an ende sone. |
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This Tereus is to his wyf y-come, |
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And in his armes hath his wyf y-come, |
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And pitously he weep, and shook his heed, |
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And swor her that he fond her suster deed; |
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For which this sely Progne hath swich wo, |
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That ny her sorweful herte brak a-two; |
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And thus in teres lete I Progne dwelle, |
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And of her suster forth I wol yow telle. |
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| 2350 |
This woful lady lerned had in youthe |
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So that she werken and enbrouden couthe, |
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And weven in her stole the radevore |
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As hit of women hath be woned yore. |
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And, shortly for to seyn, she hath her fille |
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Of mete and drink, and clothing at her wille, |
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And coude eek rede, and wel y-nogh endyte, |
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But with a penne coude she nat wryte; |
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But lettres can she weven to and fro, |
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So that, by that the yeer was al a-go, |
| 2360 |
She had y-woven in a stamin large |
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How she was broght from Athenes in a barge, |
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And in a cave how that she was broght; |
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And al the thing that Tereus hath wroght, |
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She waf hit wel, and wroot the story above, |
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How she was served for her suster love; |
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And to a knave a ring she yaf anoon, |
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And prayed him, by signes, for to goon |
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Unto the quene, and beren her that clooth, |
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And by signes swor him many an ooth, |
| 2370 |
She sholde him yeve what she geten mighte. |
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This knave anoon unto the quene him dighte, |
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And took hit her, and al the maner tolde. |
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And, whan that Progne hath this thing beholde, |
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No work she spak, for sorwe and eek for rage; |
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But feyned her to goon on pilgrimage |
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To Bachus temple; and, in a litel stounde, |
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Her dombe suster sitting hath she founde, |
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Weping in the castel her aloon. |
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Allas! the wo, the compleint, and the moon |
| 2380 |
That Progne upon her dombe suster maketh! |
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In armes everich of hem other taketh, |
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And thus I lete hem in hir sorwe dwelle. |
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The remenant is no charge for to telle, |
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For this is al and som, thus was she served, |
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That never harm a-gilte ne deserved |
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Unto this cruel man, that she of wiste. |
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Ye may be war of men, yif that yow liste. |
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For, al be that he wol nat, for his shame, |
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Doon so as Tereus, to lese his name, |
| 2390 |
Ne serve yow as a mordrour or a knave, |
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Ful litel whyle shul ye trewe him have, |
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That wol I seyn, al were he now my brother, |
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But hit so be that he may have non other. |
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Explicit Legenda Philomene. |