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Incipit Legenda Philomene.
Deus dator formarum.
THOU yiver of the formes, that hast wroght | |
| The faire world, and bare hit in thy thoght | |
| Eternally, or thou thy werk began, | |
| Why madest thou, unto the slaundre of man, | |
| Or—al be that hit was not thy doing, | 5 |
| As for that fyn to make swiche a thing— | |
| Why suffrest thou that Tereus was bore, | |
| That is in love so fals and so forswore, | |
| That, fro this world up to the firste hevene, | |
| Corrumpeth, whan that folk his name nevene? | 10 |
| And, as to me, so grisly was his dede, | |
| That, whan that I his foule story rede, | |
| Myn eyen wexen foule and sore also; | |
| Yit last the venim of so longe ago, | |
| That hit enfecteth him that wol beholde | 15 |
| The story of Tereus, of which I tolde. | |
| Of Trace was he lord, and kin to Marte, | |
| The cruel god that stant with blody darte; | |
| And wedded had he, with a blisful chere, | |
| King Pandiones faire doghter dere, | 20 |
| That highte Progne, flour of her contree, | |
| Thogh Iuno list nat at the feste be, | |
| Ne Ymeneus, that god of wedding is; | |
| But at the feste redy been, y-wis, | |
| The furies three, with alle hir mortel brond. | 25 |
| The owle al night aboute the balkes wond, | |
| That prophet is of wo and of mischaunce. | |
| This revel, ful of songe and ful of daunce, | |
| Lasteth a fourtenight, or litel lasse. | |
| But, shortly of this story for to passe, | 30 |
| For I am wery of him for to telle, | |
| Five yeer his wyf and he togeder dwelle, | |
| Til on a day she gan so sore longe | |
| To seen her suster, that she saw nat longe, | |
| That for desyr she niste what to seye. | 35 |
| But to her husband gan she for to preye, | |
| For goddes love, that she moste ones goon | |
| Her suster for to seen, and come anoon, | |
| Or elles, but she moste to her wende, | |
| She preyde him, that he wolde after her sende; | 40 |
| And this was, day by day, al her prayere | |
| With al humblesse of wyfhood, word, and chere. | |
| This Tereus let make his shippes yare, | |
| And into Grece him-self is forth y-fare | |
| Unto his fader in lawe, and gan him preye | 45 |
| To vouche-sauf that, for a month or tweye, | |
| That Philomene, his wyves suster, mighte | |
| On Progne his wyf but ones have a sighte— | |
| ‘And she shal come to yow again anoon. | |
| Myself with her wol bothe come and goon, | 50 |
| And as myn hertes lyf I wol her kepe.’ | |
| This olde Pandion, this king, gan wepe | |
| For tendernesse of herte, for to leve | |
| His doghter goon, and for to yive her leve; | |
| Of al this world he lovede no-thing so; | 55 |
| But at the laste leve hath she to go. | |
| For Philomene, with salte teres eke, | |
| Gan of her fader grace to beseke | |
| To seen her suster, that her longeth so; | |
| And him embraceth with her armes two. | 60 |
| And therwith-al so yong and fair was she | |
| That, whan that Terëus saw her beautee, | |
| And of array that ther was noon her liche, | |
| And yit of bountee was she two so riche, | |
| He caste his fyry herte upon her so | 65 |
| That he wol have her, how so that hit go, | |
| And with his wyles kneled and so preyde, | |
| Til at the laste Pandion thus seyde:— | |
| ‘Now, sone,’ quod he, ‘that art to me so dere, | |
| I thee betake my yonge doghter here, | 70 |
| That bereth the key of al my hertes lyf. | |
| And grete wel my doghter and thy wyf, | |
| And yive her leve somtyme for to pleye, | |
| That she may seen me ones er I deye.’ | |
| And soothly, he hath mad him riche feste, | 75 |
| And to his folk, the moste and eek the leste, | |
| That with him com; and yaf him yiftes grete, | |
| And him conveyeth through the maister-strete | |
| Of Athenes, and to the see him broghte, | |
| And turneth hoom; no malice he ne thoghte. | 80 |
| The ores pulleth forth the vessel faste, | |
| And into Trace arriveth at the laste, | |
| And up into a forest he her ledde, | |
| And to a cave privily him spedde; | |
| And, in this derke cave, yif her leste, | 85 |
| Or leste noght, he bad her for to reste; | |
| Of whiche her herte agroos, and seyde thus, | |
| ‘Wher is my suster, brother Tereus?’ | |
| And therwith-al she wepte tenderly, | |
| And quook for fere, pale and pitously, | 90 |
| Right as the lamb that of the wolf is biten; | |
| Or as the colver, that of the egle is smiten, | |
| And is out of his clawes forth escaped, | |
| Yet hit is afered and awhaped | |
| Lest hit be hent eft-sones, so sat she. | 95 |
| But utterly hit may non other be. | |
| By force hath he, this traitour, doon that dede, | |
| That he hath reft her of her maydenhede, | |
| Maugree her heed, by strengthe and by his might. | |
| Lo! here a dede of men, and that a right! | 100 |
| She cryeth ‘suster!’ with ful loude stevene, | |
| And ‘fader dere!’ and ‘help me, god in hevene!’ | |
| Al helpeth nat; and yet this false theef | |
| Hath doon this lady yet a more mischeef, | |
| For fere lest she sholde his shame crye, | 105 |
| And doon him openly a vilanye, | |
| And with his swerd her tong of kerveth he, | |
| And in a castel made her for to be | |
| Ful privily in prison evermore, | |
| And kepte her to his usage and his store, | 110 |
| So that she mighte him nevermore asterte. | |
| O sely Philomene! wo is thyn herte; | |
| God wreke thee, and sende thee thy bone! | |
| Now is hit tyme I make an ende sone. | |
| This Tereus is to his wyf y-come, | 115 |
| And in his armes hath his wyf y-nome, | |
| And pitously he weep, and shook his heed, | |
| And swor her that he fond her suster deed; | |
| For which this sely Progne hath swich wo, | |
| That ny her sorweful herte brak a-two; | 120 |
| And thus in teres lete I Progne dwelle, | |
| And of her suster forth I wol yow telle. | |
| This woful lady lerned had in youthe | |
| So that she werken and enbrouden couthe, | |
| And weven in her stole the radevore | 125 |
| As hit of women hath be woned yore. | |
| And, shortly for to seyn, she hath her fille | |
| Of mete and drink, and clothing at her wille, | |
| And coude eek rede, and wel y-nogh endyte, | |
| But with a penne coude she nat wryte; | 130 |
| But lettres can she weven to and fro, | |
| So that, by that the yeer was al a-go, | |
| She had y-woven in a stamin large | |
| How she was broght from Athenes in a barge, | |
| And in a cave how that she was broght; | 135 |
| And al the thing that Tereus hath wroght, | |
| She waf hit wel, and wroot the story above, | |
| How she was served for her suster love; | |
| And to a knave a ring she yaf anoon, | |
| And prayed him, by signes, for to goon | 140 |
| Unto the quene, and beren her that clooth, | |
| And by signes swor him many an ooth, | |
| She sholde him yeve what she geten mighte. | |
| This knave anoon unto the quene him dighte, | |
| And took hit her, and al the maner tolde. | 145 |
| And, whan that Progne hath this thing beholde, | |
| No word she spak, for sorwe and eek for rage; | |
| But feyned her to goon on pilgrimage | |
| To Bachus temple; and, in a litel stounde, | |
| Her dombe suster sitting hath she founde, | 150 |
| Weping in the castel her aloon. | |
| Allas! the wo, the compleint, and the moon | |
| That Progne upon her dombe suster maketh! | |
| In armes everich of hem other taketh, | |
| And thus I lete hem in hir sorwe dwelle. | 155 |
| The remenant is no charge for to telle, | |
| For this is al and som, thus was she served, | |
| That never harm a-gilte ne deserved | |
| Unto this cruel man, that she of wiste. | |
| Ye may be war of men, yif that yow liste. | 160 |
| For, al be that he wol nat, for his shame, | |
| Doon so as Tereus, to lese his name, | |
| Ne serve yow as a mordrour or a knave, | |
| Ful litel whyle shul ye trewe him have, | |
| That wol I seyn, al were he now my brother, | 165 |
But hit so be that he may have non other.
Explicit Legenda Philomene. | |
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