Thy grene yowthe flouryng with al plesaunce,
Diane hath demed so chastely thy clennesse,
How didest it brydel withe vertuous sobrenesse,
Whilest thow were soole plainly to termyne,
Withe light of trouth al wydewes to enlumyne.
O noble matrouns, whiche have al suffisaunce
Of womraanhede, yowre wittes doth up dresse,
How that fortune list oft to turn hir chaunce,
Beth nat to rakel of sodayne hastynesse.
But ay providith in youre hastulesse,
That no such folye entre in your corage.
To fohve Dydo, that was qwene of Cartage.
Withe hir maners hath nat your acqueytaunce,
Putte out of mynde suche foltisshe wilfulnesse,
To sle youreself thynk it were grete penaunce.
lydgate's minor poems. 71
God of his grace defende yow al and blesse,
And eke preserve youre variaunt brutilnesse,
So that youre trouthe ne f'alle in none outrage.
To folwe Dydo, that was qw ene of Cartage.
Withe covert colour and sobre contenaunce.
Of faithful meanyng pretendithe a lyknesse,
Countrefeteth in speche and daliaunce,
Al thyng that sowneth into stidefastnesse.
Of grete prudence by youre avisenesse,
Youreself restreynith and of al age,
To folwe Dydo, that was qwene of Cartage.
Lete al youre porte be voyde of displesaunce,
To gete youre frendis doth ay youe besynessf ,
And beth never without purviaunce.
So shal ye best encresen in richesse,
In oone allone may be no sykernesse,
Unto youre hertis beothe dyvers of langage.
Contrary to Dydo that was qwene of Cartage.
Holdith youre servauntis under obeysaunce,
Lete hem neyther fredam ne fraunchesse.
But under daunger don ther observaunce,
Dauntithe theyr pruyde and brydel hem with low-
And whan the serpent of newfangelnesse
Assailethe yow, dothe youre avauntage,
Contrarye to Dydo, that was qwene of Cartage.
72 lvi)(;atk''s mixor pokm.s.
LEGEND OF WULFRTKE, A PRIEST OF
[From MS. Harl, 2251, fol. 78.]
In Wiltshire of Englond two pristes ther were,
Right famulyer in goode conversacioune,
Tlie tone was riche, that other somwhat bare,
And both they were nygh on habitacioune ;
The tone had ever right grete devocioun.
Of requiem his masse to syng or say.
And for alle Cristen soules ever to pray.
Whan God of his grete visitacioun,
List out of this worlde for hym to sende,
His rightes he had by goode deliberacioun,
And to God his soule he highly did comend,
And as a triew Cristen man here he made his ende,
Aboute raydnyght, as we fynde and rede,
His felaw unknowyng that he was dede.
Til erly on the mornyng whan he shulde gon.
Unto the chirche his service for to say,
Out of theyr graves he sawe many oon,
Appere as children, in white array,
" Arise ? aryse !" they sayde, " and lete us pray
For Wulfryke oure prist, that no doth passe,
That for us hathe sayde many a requiem masse."
Devoutly they prayed, as to hym semed.
And into theyr graves they tourned agayne.
lydgate's minor poems. 73
He mervailed moche and inwardly demed,
That his felaw was past out of worldly peyn,
The trouthe for to knawe he was right fayn,
And homward he went hymself allone,
Hym fonde hyra dede, wherfor he made grete mone.
Examples we fynde and rede many oone,
How we shulde synge and rede for to pray for other,
And specially for them that be past and goon,
Whiche on us only trust as brother on brother ;
Now pray we, Jhesu, and his blessed moder.
With help of al seyntes in hevene an hy.
On alle Cristen soulis to have pite and mercy.
LEGEND OF A MONK OF PARIS.
[From MS. Harl. 225), fol. 78.]
Remembryd by scriptures we fynde and rede,
Holsum and holy it is to thynke and pray,
For al the sowles that be past in dede
Out of this wretchid world unto domesday,
Abidyng in purgatory with soruful lay,
Cryeng and callyng for mercy and pite,
Unto them in special that there friendis be.
There was a man right hooly and devoute,
Of Parase in Fraunce, that worthy cyte.
That daily wold sey in his chirche-yerde aboute.
74 lydgate's minor poems.
For alle Cristen sowles, withe mercy and pite,
De projiindis, Pater noster, and ave.
This prayer he used contynuauly,
Til God purveyed for hyra contynuauly.
It fil on a tyme, he was pursued
Of his mortal enemyes, withe grete violence,
He fledde for the best, and ther malice eschewed,
And toke the chircheyerde for his defence,
And sayde De profundis with entier diligence.
The bodj-^es arose out of theyr graves, [staves.
Somme appered withe gleyves, and somme withe
So grete a multitude assemblid to fight,
His enemyes gan fle and sore were agast,
He thankyd God of his grete myght,
And seyde De profundis whan they were past ;
His reward in heven he had at last.
Therfor it is holsora for to have in memory.
The soulis that ly in paynes of purgatory.
ON THE INSTABILITY OF HUMAN AFFAIRS.
[From MS. Harl. 2251, fol. 38-39.]
IS THIS FORTUNE Oil INFORTUNE ?
The more I go, the further I am behynde ;
The further behynde, the nere the weyes ende ;
The more I seche, the wers can I fynde ;
The lighter leve, the lother for to wende ;
lydgate's minor poems. 75
The lengger I serve, the more out of mynde ;
Is this fortune, or is it infortune?
Though I go loose, I tyed am withe a lyne.
Drye in the see, and wete upon the stronde ;
Brenne in water, in fuyre fresyng;
In reveris thurstlew, and moyst upon the londe;
Gladde in mornyng, in gladnes compleyneng ;
The fuller wombe, the gredyer in etyng ;
Is this fortune, or is it infortune ?
Thoughe I go loose, I teyed am withe a luyne.
A wery pees, and pees amyd the werre ;
The better felaw, the rathir at discoi'de ;
The neere at hande, the sonner set a-ferre ;
Accorde debatyng, debatynge at accorde ;
Furthest fro court, grettest withe the lorde ;
Is this fortune, or is it infortune ?
Thoughe I go loose, I tyed am withe a lyne.
A wepyng laughter, a mery glad wepyng;
A fresy thowe, a meltyng fryse ;
The slowar paas, the further in rennyng ;
The more I renne, the more wey I lese :
The grettest losse whan I my chaunce do chese ;
Is this fortune, or is it infortune?
Thoughe I go loose, I teyed am withe a lyne.
Weryles I walke ay in trouble and travaile,
Ever travilyng witheout werynes ;
In labour idel, wynnyng that may nat availe ;
76 lydgate's minor poems.
A troubled joy, ajoyeful hevynes;
A sobbyng songe, a chierful distres ;
Is it fortune, or is it in fortune?
Thoughe I go loose, I tyed am withe a lyne.
Wakyng a bedde, fastyng at the table ;
Riche with wysshis, pore of possessioune ;
Stable unassured, assured eke unstable;
Hope dispeyred, a gwerdonles gvverdone ;
Trusty disceyte, feythful decepcioune ;
Is this fortune, or is it infortune ?
Thoughe I go loose, I tiede am wythe a lyne.
A mournyng myrthe, sobrenes savage,
Prudent foly, stidefast wildenesse ;
Providence conveyed ay withe rage ;
A dronken sadnesse, and a sad drunkenesse ;
A woode wisdom, and a wise woodenesse ;
Is this fortune, or is it infortune ?
Thoughe I go loose, I tyed am withe a lyne.
Unhappy everons fortune infortunat;
An hertles thought, a thoughtlees remembraunce
Lo what avauntage ! and sodainly chekmate,
Now six, now synke, now deny for my chaunce ;
Thus al the worlde stant in variaunce :
Late men dispute, whethir this be fortune ?
No man so loose, but he is tied withe a luyne.
The world unsure, contrary al stablenesse,
Whos joy is meynt ay withe adversite ;
Now light, now hevy, now sorwe, now gladnes;
lydgate's minor poems. 77
Ebbe after floode of al prosperite.
Set al asyde and lierne this of me,
Trust upon fortune, defye false fortune,
And al recleyraes of hyr double luyne.
The gretter lorde, the lasse his assuraunce ;
The sikerest lyfTe is in glad poverte ;
Bothe highe and loughe shal go on dethis daunce,
Renne unto Powlis, beholde the Machabe ;
Fraunchise of phisyk makithe no man go free ;
Trust upon God, defye fals fortune,
Ande al recleymes of hyr double luyne.
Lothest departyng where is grettest richesse ;
Al worldly tresour gothe to the worlde agayne ;
To kepe it longe may be no sikernesse,
Of grete receytis grete rekenyng in certayne.
Whan we gon hens al this shalbe but vayne ;
Trust upon God, defye false fortune.
That al recleymes of hir double luyne.
Nothyng more sure than al men shal deye,
Late men aforne make theyr ordynaunce;
vij. dedis of mercy shal best for us purveye.
And almesdede shal make achevisaunce,
T'exclude by grace the rigour of vengeaunce ;
For Cristis passion ne maugre false fortune,
Shal recleyme us to his merciable luyne.
78 I-YDOATE's MINOK I'(JK.MS.
DEVOTIONS OF THE FOWLS.
[From MS. Harl. 2251, fol. 37-38.]
As I me lenyd unto a joyful place,
Lusty Phebus to supervive,
How God Alrayghti of his grete grace,
Hath florisshed the erthe on every side.
The woodes and the medowes wyde,
Withe grete habundaunce of vyridite,
Whiche caused me so grete felicite,
That stille T sloode in perplexite.
To Phebus my wittes gan refere,
And on this wise he sayde to me,
Abyde a while, and thow shalt here,
Hym commendid whiche dide conquere,
Thi soule from peynes perpetualle,
And of his blisse to make the paroyalle.
Than I herd a voyce celestialle,
Rejoysyng my spirites inwardly,
Of dyverse soules bothe grete and smalle,
Praisyng God with swete melody.
In al his werkis ful reverently,
With an hevenly ympne and an holsum,
Conditor alme sideruin.
The poppinjay allone gan syng.
And saide, this is my propirte,
With ave or kirye salute a kyng.
lydgate's minor poems. 79
As Scripture makithe mencioun of me,
In bookis of nature who list to se :
Wherfor me thynk T do nat amys.
To welcome the kyng of hevene blis ;
That from the seete of the hye Trynite,
Into a virgyns wombe immaculate,
Descendid this tyme of fre volunte,
And so becom man incarnate,
To restore hym to his first estate,
Wherfor I singe of his nativite,
A solis oHus cardine.
The pellican sang withe mornyng chiere.
Of Cristes compassioun I do compleyne,
That mankynde hathe bought so deere,
With grevous hurtis and bytter peyne,
And yit man can nat love hym agayne,
Wherfore I synge as I was wont,
Vexilla regis prodeunt.
The nyghtyngale lepe from boughe to boughe,
And on the pellican she made a crye.
And seyd, '•' pellican, why mournest thow now ?
Crist is risen from dethe triewly,
Mankynd withe hym to glorifye;
Wherfor syng now as we do,
Consurgit Cristus iumulo"
The lark also ful naturally,
Cristes ascencioune in humanite
Commendyd withe song specially,
80 LYDfiATK's MINOK POEMS.
And seyde, " blissed be tliow, Lorde of I'elicite,
That hast callid man to so highe degree,
That never deserved of cquyte,"
Eterne rex altissime.
Tlie douffe also that is so white,
In hert bothe meke and beautevous,
Unto the erthe she toke hir flight.
And sang a song ful gracious,
Of al songes most vcrtuous ;
And as I perceyved, she songe thus,
Veni Creator Spiritus.
The briddes present upon a tre,
Were gadred togydre as covenaunt was,
Praisyng oon God in Trynite,
That al this wyde world dothe enbrace ;
And thus thay songe, both more and lasse.
This melodious ympne withe grete solas,
lux heata Triiiil !S.
[From MS. Harl. 2251, fol. 28-29.]
ALLE THYXGES IN MESLRE.
By witte of man al thynge that is contryved,
Standithe in proporcioune plainly to conclude,
In olde auctours lyke as it is discryved.
Whether it be depnesse or longitude.
lydgate's minor poems. 81
Cast out by compas of height or latitude,
Bj' peyse, by nombre, tryed out by equite,
To voyde al errour fro folkis than ben rude,
Nothyng commendyd but it in mesure be.
Mesours of niusyk bene the spieris nyne,
Mevid by mesure withe hevenly arniony ;
Lower in erthe compas, squyer, and lyne,
Voyde al errours cause of geometrye ;
Sownyng of instrumentis, concorde of mynstrelcye,
Sette fulle and hoole be perfite unite ;
Swetnesse of mesure causithe al melodye.
By perfit musyk if it in mesure be.
Without mesure may non artificers
In his wirkyng parfitely procede,
Peyntour, steynour, mason, nor carpentere.
Without mesure accomplisshe nat in dede ;
Where mesure faylethe, wrong wrought is every dede.
Of thynge to longe the superfluite
Mesure cutte of, and thus who can take heede,
Iche thynge is praysed if it in mesure be.
Whan mesure failethe in dome or jugement,
Rightwisnes is tourned to woodenesse,
A rigurous juge, a foltisshe president.
Withe hate and rancour dothe his vertu dresse ;
Vengeaunce by envye they re reason doth oppresse ;
Whan they ben blynde and can no mesure se,
False rooted malice and cruel wilfulnesse,
Wil sufFre no mesure in theyr court to be.
82 lydgate's minor poems.
An olde proverbe, mesour is tresoure,
Where mesure failethe is disconnemence ;
In rethorik stant no parfite colour,
But if it be conveyed by cadence,
If mesure lak, what vailithe eloquence ?
Concludyng thus the soveraute,
Of every craft and of eche scyence,
Receyvithe his price, if it in mesure be.
Where mesure reygnithe, subgettis lyve in peas
Roote of discorde is froward tyrannye :
Favour in mesure causithe grete mires.
And out of mesure it causithe grete envye.
Men must by mesour rigour modifye,
Atwixt love and hate mesure dothe equyte ;
Wherfor late soverayns use this policye,
What ever they do late it in mesure be.
Lete men be mesure werk other travaile,
Mesoure biddithe men do none outrages ;
And he that ever of mesure takith counsaile,
Can nat shewe in one hoode two visages.
The coke by mesour sesonyth his potages,
A teniperat hete egalle in oone degre,
By decoccioune to take theyr avauntages,
Aforn provyded that al in mesure be.
Disport withe labour among is necessary ;
Travaile requyrithe a recreacioune ;
Pees and werre ben thynges ful contrary :
Mesure of ereriche graun tithe his season ;
lydgate's minor poems. 83
Chaunge and diversite of complexioune
In sundry agees set adversite,
Nat to glad ne to hevy of condicioune.
But al is wele so it in mesure be.
That is goode that causithe no damage.
Honest disport that causithe none hyndryng.
Blessid of God is also that langage,
That kepithe his tunge fro froward bakbytyng ;
And blessid is he that saithe wele of al thyng.
And blissed is he whiche in his poverte.
List thank God voyde al grucchyng,
And dothe nothyng but it in mesure be.
Late every man wisely advertise.
He shal agayne receyve suche mesoure,
By egal peyse and in the same wise.
So as he weyethe unto his neyghboure ;
Be it of hate favour or rancoure.
The gospel tellithe lerne this of me.
So as thow weyest be mercy or rigoure.
The mesure same shal be don to the.
.S^ lydgate's minor poems.
A POEM AGAINST IDLENESS, AND THE
HISTORY OF SAKDANAPALUS.
[From MS. Harl. 2251, fol. 95-100.]
Two maner of folkes to put in remembraunce,
Of vice and vertu to put a difference,
The goode alwey have set theyr plesaunce
In vertuous labour to done theyr diligence ;
And vicious peple in slouth and necligence ;
Of whiche the reporte of both is thus reserved,
With lawde or lack, liche as they have deserved.
Men must of right the vertuous preferre.
And triewly labour preyse and besynesse ;
And ageynwarde dispreyse folke that erre,
Whiche have no joye but al in idelnesse ;
And to compare by a maner wytnesse,
The vertuous folke I wille to mynde calle,
In the rebukyng of the mysdoers alle.
The olde wise cleped Pictagoras,
By the sowne of hamours, th'auctours specifye,
Ensample toke, and chief mayster was,
That fonde first al rausyk and melodye ;
Yit of Thubal som bookis specifye,
That hevy strokis of smythes there they stoode
Found out first musyk to-fore Noes floode.
lydgate's minor poems. 85
The chieldren of Seth in story ye may sp,
Flowryng in vertu by longe successiouns,
For to profite to theyr posteryte,
Founds first the crafte of hevenly mocyouns.
Of sundry sterris the revoluciouns,
Byqwath theyr konnyng, for grete avauntage,
To theym that com after of theyr lynage.
For theyre vertu, God gaf hem grete konnyng,
Touchyng natures ye bothe of erthe and hevene.
And it remembrid sothly by writyng.
To lasten ay for water and for levene ;
Generaciouns of hem were sevene,
Whiche for vertue, without werre and strj'fF,
Travailed in konnyng duryng al theyr lyf.
But for that Adam first dide prophecye
That twyes this world shuld distroyed be,
With water oonys stonde in jupartye,
Next with the fuyre whiche no man may flee ;
But Seeth his chieldren al this did wele see,
And made two pillers : wherein men myght grave.
From fuyre and water the carectis for to save.
That oone was made of tyles ful harde y-bake,
From touche of fuyre ay for to save scripture ;
Of hard marble they dide another make,
Agenst water strongly for to endure,
To save of lettris the prynte and the fygure ;
For theyr konnyng aforne gan so provide.
For fuyre and water perpetually to abyde.
86 lydgate's minor poems.
They denied theyr konnyng hadde ben al in veyne,
J3ut if that folke with hem han ben partable ;
And for tlieyr labour shulde after be seene,
They it remembred by writyng ful notable,
Unto-fore God a thyng ful commendable.
To hem that folwe by scripture of writyng.
So that men dy departen theyr konnyng.
For in th' olde tyme men dyvers craftis first fonde.
In sundry wise, thurgh occupacioune ;
Vertu to cherisshe and vices to confounde,
Theyre wittes they sette and theyr entencioune.
To putte theyr labour in execusioune,
And to outraye, this is the verray trowth,
For mannes lyfF is necligence and slowth.
Olde Ennok, ful famous of vertu,
Duryng that age fonde fyrste of everychone,
Thurghe his prudence, the lettres of Ebrew,
Whiche in a piler were keped al of stone.
Til that the floode of Nooe was agone ;
And, after hym, Cham was the secunde.
By whom of Ebrew the lettres were first founde.
And Catarismus the first was that founde
Lettres also as of that langage ;
But lettres writen withe Goddis owne hand,
Moyses first toke most of his visage,
On Synay as he hield his passage,
Whiche of carectis and names in sentence,
From other writyng had a grete difference.
lydgate's minor poems. 87
Eke after this, as other bokes telle,
As seynt Jerom rehersithe in his style,
That under th' empire of Zorobabelle
Esdras of Ebrevv first lettres gan compile,
And Abraham gan sithe a grete while.
The first he was in bookis men may se,
That fonde lettres of Cirye and of Caldee.
Isys in Egipt fonde a diversite
Of sundry lettres parted in tweyne ;
First to pristes and to the comunalte.
Vulgar lettres he dide also ordeyne.
And Phenicis did theyr besy peyne
Lettres of Greke to fynde in theyr entent,
Whiche that Cadmus into Grece sent.
Of whiche the nombre fully was seventene ;
Whan that of Troy endid was the bataile,
Palamydes theyr langage to sustene,
Put thre theyrto whiche gretely dide avayle.
Pictagoras for prudent governayle,
Fonde first out .y. a figure to discerne,
Theyre lyff here short and lyfF that is eterne.
First Latyn lettres of our .a.b.c,
Carmentis fonde hem of ful highe prudence ;
Grete Omerus in Isodre ye may see.
Among Grekis fonde craft of eloquence ;
First in Rome, by soverayne excellence.
Of rethoriques Tullius fonde the floures,
Plee and defence of sotyl oratoures.
88 lydgate's minor poems.
Calcicatres a graver most uotable,
Of white ivory he dide his besynesse,
His hatide, liis eye, so just was and stable,
Of an ampte to grave out the lyknesse.
Upon tlie grounde, as nature doth hym dresse>
This craft he fonde, as dide Sarnadapalie
Fonde ydelnes, moder to vices alle.
Murmy chides, he made a chare also,
And a smal shyppe with al th' apparaile,
So that a by myght close hem both two.
Under his wynges, whiche is grete raervaile,
And nothyng seyn of al the hole entaile,
This crafte he fonde of vertuous besynesse,
To eschew the vice of froward idelnesse.
Perdix by compas fonde tryangle and lyne.
And Euclyte first fonde out geometrye,
And Phebus fonde out the craft of medicyue,
Albuniazar fonde first Astronomye ;
And Mynerva gan first charis to guye ;
Jason first sayled, in story it is tolde.
Tow ard Colchos to wynne the flees of golde.
Ceres the Goddes fond first the tilthe of loude ;
Dionysius fonde the tryumphes transitorye ;
And Belloua by force first he fonde.
Conquest by knyghthod and in the fielde victorye :
And Martis sooue, as put is in memory,
Called Etholus, fonde first speres sharp and kene.
To renue in werre in platis so bright and shene.
lydgate's minor poems. 89
Also Aristeus fonde first the usage
Of mylke, and cruddis, and of hony swote ;
Peryodes, for grete avauntage,
From flyntes smote fuyre, daryng in the roote ;
And Pallas, whiche that may to gold do boote,
Founde out first wevyng, this is verray sooth,
Thurghe his prudence of al maner cloth.
And Fydo first fonde out the science
Of the mesures and the proporciouns,
And for marchauntes dide well his diligence,
To fynde balauncis by just di vision ns,
To avoyde al fravvde in citees and in townes,
On eyther party e plainly to compile,
Of alle triewe weight that there were no gyle.
Compare in ordre clierly al these thynges,
Fouude of olde tyme by diligent travaile.
To the plesaunce of princes and of kynges,
To shewe how moche that konnyng may availe ;
And wey ageynwardes the froward acquitayle,
Contrariously how Sarnadapalle
Founde ydelnesse, the moder of vices alle.
Lette pryncis alle herof taken heede.
What that availeth vertuous besynesse,
And what damage the revers doth indeede,
Vicious lyffe, slowthe, and ydelnesse ;
And this ensample lete hem eke inpresse
Amyddes theyr herte, and how Sarnadapalle
Founde ydelnesse, moder of vices alle.
90 lydgate's minor poems.
Of Assurye to rekne the kynges alle,
Whiche had that lond under subjeccioune,
Laste of echon ther was Sarnadapalle,
Most feraynyne of his condicioune ;
Wherfor fortune Hst to throwe hym downe,
And corapleyneng most uggely of manere,
Next after Dydo to Bochas dide appere.
To vicyous lust his lyf he did enclyne,
Araonge the Assuriens whanne he regne began.
Of false usage he was so femynyne,
That on the rok amonges wymnien he spanne,
In theyre habyte disguysed from a man,
And of frowarde fleshly insolence
Of any man fledde ay the presence.
First this kynge chase to be his guyde
The moder of vices callid Ydelnesse,
Whiche of custume hye vertue sette aside,
In every courte wher that she is maystresse,
Of sorow and myschief the first founderesse,
Whiche caused only this Sarnadapalle,
That to alle goodenes his wittes dide appalle.
He fonde up first ryot and dronkennesse,
Callid a fadir of lust and lecherye ;
Hateful of herte he was to sobrenesse,
Cherisshyng surfaytes wacche and gloteny,
Callid in his tyme a prince of bawdrye,
Fonde reresoupers and fetherbeddis softe,
To drynke late, and chaunge his wynes ofte.
lydgate's minor poems. 91
The ayre of metis and of bawdy cookis,
Whiche that of custom al day rost and seethe ;
Savours of spices, ladils, and flesshookes,
He loved wele and toke of hem goode hede ;
And folke that drank more than it was nede,
Of smellyng wyne for theyr grete excesse,
Whiche hem to abyde was holly his gladnesse.
He thought also that it dide hym goode,
To have aboute hym, ageyns skylle and right,
Boystous bochers al bespreynt with bloode.
And watry fisshers abode ay in his sight,
Theyr cotes powdred with scalis silver bright,
Demyng theyr odour duryng al his lyve.
Was to his courage most preservatyve.
For ther nas herbe, spice, grasse, ne roote,
To hym so lusty as was the bordel house,
Ne no gardyne so holsom, ne so sweete.
To his plesaunce, ne so delicious,
As was the presence of folkes lecherous.
And ever gladde to speke of ribawdye,
And hem to cherisshe that cowde wele flatere and lye.
Til at the last, God, of verray right,
Displesed was with his condiciouns,
Bycause he was in every mannes sight
So femynyne in his affectiouns,
And holly gaf his inclynaciouns,
Duryng his lyf, to every vicyous thyng,
To horrible to here, and namly of a kyng.
92 lydoate's minor poems.
But as Bochas list put in mynde,
Whanne Arbachus a prince of grete renoune,
Sygh of his kynge the fleshly lustes blynde,
Made with the peple of that regioune
Agenst the kyng a conjuracioune.
And sent to hym, for his mysgovernaunce,
Of highe disdayne a ful playne defyaunce.
Bad hym beware and prowdly to hym tolde.
That he hym cast his vicyous lyf t'assaile,
And in al hast also that he wolde,
Withynne a fielde mete hym in bataile.
Wherfor astonyed, his herte began to faile,
Where he with wymmen satte and made his gawdes,
No wight aboute hym but flaterers and bawdes.