The Tale Of Guiscardo And Ghismonda Poem by Gilbert Banester

[T]ancret, that was prynce of Salern,
Floure of knyghthode and myrrour of provesse,
Whiche reioysyd euer hys pepyll to gouern
Wyttyly, by benygnyte and gentylnesse,
Eueryman musyd of hys gret noblenesse;
Discrete in all thynges that was iudiciall,
Of nature the verray welle of yeftys lyberall,

Hys lawes he kept so iustly thorough all the prouynce,
Repreuyng all ryot and cherysshing the porall,
And mercyfull also as was any prince;
And, shortly, as myne auctor maketh rehersall,
Hys fame had neuyr spot in all hys gouernall,
Tyll hasty crewelnes causyd of gret yre
The fatall loue of tweyn that loue had set on fyre.

A wyfe he toke whyche was com of blod ryall,
But of what auncetre or of what lynage,
What was hyr name, or what men dyd hyr call,
Forsoth, I cannat sey, but of som hygh parage
Men may well know: she was ryche in maryage
To be ioynyd with suche a prince as was thys Tancret.
Therfore I passe ouyr, I take therof no [hede].

Thys nobyll prynce Tancret had neuer issew
In tyme of all hys lyfe for to be hys heyre,
Save oonly a doughtyr, whom nature and vertew
Exce[lle]ntly endowyd, so was she good and feyre.
But o! cruell desteny, that myrth doth oft apeyre,
Aftyr gret gladnes makyng men to morne,
For better had be to Tancret the chyld had neuer be borne.

But all that was full ferre fro his minde,
He red not in the booke of her Destinye,
Her fatall chaunce was to him derke and blinde;
Let all this passe: This childe was put to norye,
Daily she increased in fauour and beauté
So that when her nonage passed and her youth
Her noble fame & beautè was in ich mans mouth.

Yef I shuld dyscryue thys beuteuous creature,
Nature had hyr specially in remembraunce,
For she was well and semely of feature,
Hyr chekys myxt whyte and rody, the myrrour of pleasaunce;
A spere hit was to louers, hyr goodly countenance;
Her beaute nat made by oynement nor by other gere,
But of hyr owne kynde, as nature gafe to here.

She excellyd in bewte the Ipermy[s]ture,
Penolope of grece and eke the fayre Elien,
Ipolita also and Emly hyr systure,
Meliorir and Vrake, and also Poli[x]ene;
In stedfast loue she passyd fayre Dydo the quene,
Feythfull and trew, without daungerous dysdeyn,
Curtes and debonair, she was nothyng soleyn.

Also, to speke of hyr pregnaunt wyt,
Hyr parfyte mynde, also intelligence,
Nothyng was so harde but [she] sone conceuyd hyt;
In fer sotell castyng she had experience;
What shuld I more say? shortly in sentence,
She knew more haply then was conuenient
Vnto any woman orels expedient.

Lyke as the nobyll prynce of issew had no more
Saue oonly thys chylde, so louyd he hyr only;
All hys hert and mynde was set on hyr so sore,
He louyd no creature so effectually;
So in hys mynde he determynyd vtterly
To kepe thys lady present all wey in hys syght,
And neuer to graunt hyr in mariage to no wyght.

Though that princesse ryall, to whom of hygh fauour
Fortune had grauntyd gret enherytance,
Desyryd to haue thys lady to loue paramour,
Euyr to be trew vnder hyr obeysance,
And so by matrimony to make alyaunce,
But thowgh Cupyd woundyd theym with hys fyry dart,
Yet wold nat her fadyr sofer her to depart.

So, shortly for to tell, thys mayde fro hyr desyre
Was also compellyd for to abstayne;
Though youth, lust and corage brent hyr as the fyre,
Yet myght she neuer the plesaunce of hyr loue attayne,
But contynued styll mornyng, beyng euyr in payne,
Tyll many of hyr lusty yeres were ago;
Hyr owne cruell fadyr dyd hyr all thys wo.

Hyt fortunyd on a tyme, I know nat in what wyse,
[Whe]ther that hyr fadyr hauyng gret compassion
Vppon hyr gret wo, orelles for some promyse
Of gold, ryche tresure, orelles of possession,
But, shortly, of Cumpeny to the dukes son
He grauntyd hys doughter to haue in maryage,
A man of blod royall and of hygh parage.

Hyt nedeth nat to reherse the ryche apparaill
To these ij louers, the day of theyr weddyng,
Or vnto my purpose what may hit avayle
To tell the royall [feest] and all the guydyng?
Of thys I passe ouer, I make no tareyng,
I speke nat of the myrthe and melady that was;
As for a conclusion, thus weddyd they were.

Of sorowfull mornyng now ys the clowdy nyght
Be the fyre of love dryuyn fer away,
The feruent son of plesaunce shynyth now full bryght,
Hys fresh son bemys hath chaungyd nyght to day,
She may daunce and syng, now hath she lyst to play,
For euyr aftyr mornyng the myrthe ys the swetter,
And aftyr gret sorow the ioy shalbe the bettyr.


But lyke as lusty Phebus with hys fyre bemys,
When he hys goldyn chare hath brought vnto the west,
Anon he withdraweth hys hote brennyng stremes
And then appereth pheb[e] out of hyr clowdy nes[t],
Then comyth all the derk, then men draw to rest,
Vntyll on the morow that lucifer doth appere,
Whyche ys callyd the day ster, the dayes messyngere;

Ryght so the shynyng son of hyr plesaunce
Was hyd and wrappyd with wepyng and with clowdy rayne:
Forthwith, in lytyll space of contynuaunce
Aftyr theyr weddyng deth departyd theym agayne;
I wot nat by what mene her lord, hyr souerayne,
In sekenes or in batayll--I can no knowlage haue;
But, shortly, thys dukes son, her hosbond, ys leyde in graue

Allas! departyng, ground of heuynesse,
Cursyng the clowdy nyght of carefull deuorce;
O cruell dethe! I mene dystroyer of gladnesse,
Dysdeynyng the plesaunce of thys wofull corps.
Why woldest thow of malyce assaut hyr thys with vorce,
Eclypsyng the clerenes of hyr ioyfull day,
Bryngyng forth the nyght of care and welaway?

Falsly thow robbyd hyr [of hyr] hertes plesure,
Takyng away fro hyr that she louyd best.
Out on the, that art the comyn thefe of nature,
That hast take fro hyr all pese and hertes rest!
Wold god she on the myght call a quest
Of loues seruauntes, and for all thyne art
Thow shuldyst be done to deth with thyne own dart.

What nedeth hyt more to speke of thyne enuy,
When thys wofull woman shall neuer be the bettyr?
For that that hath byn the cause of all melody,
Yef hit be oft rehersyd, hit maketh the wo the grettyr;
Wherfore my pen shall wryte no more therof, no letter;
But though thys woman wepe, I can non other rede;
Hyt helpeth hyr nothyng, for hyr housbond ys dede.

How shall she now be rewlyd she taketh hyr councell;
Voyde of all comfort for lak of a gyde,
Anon she hath concludyd in hyr mynde ryght well
At home with hyr fadyr she thynketh to abyde,
And there to leue hyr sorow, yef hit wold betyde,
Whereas all hyr sorow furst of all was take,
And wydow to hyr fadyr she came in clothes blake.

Thynges artyfyciall that byn violent
Wrought, orels made for causys accidentall,
May nat endure euer, for when the cause ys shent,
The effect therof shall sone fade and fall.
Why shuld thys woman then any lengor s[t]ay at all,
Syth the cause of mornyng ys fro her cast;
The deth of hyr hosbond hyt ys so fer past?

Yef she shuld abyde also euyr styll,
In paynes and wofull care continu and endure,
Withyn short space she shold hyr sylf spyll,
For sorow ys a poyson that nothyng may cure;
Hyt bryngeth hertes power ryght low to the lure,
Hyt maketh also fayrenes fall and all bewte,
Hyt ys the grettest sekenesse that ther may be.

So she abydyng [still] in hyr fadyrs house,
Yong and corageous and also of hygh degre,
With affluence of all thynges that was delycyouse;
But when at the last she began pursew and se
That for love hyr fadyr intendyd that she
Shold neuermore aftyr any housbond crave,
But styll to dwell with hym tyll he be leyde in grave;

Thus then hath hyr fadyr determynyd vtterly
Neuyr to procure for hyr mariage,
And hyrsylf to aske she semyd hyt were vylany,
She thought therfore to take hyr best avauntage,
Yef she myght aspy a man of good lynage,
So that he were gentyll, to take hyr owne choyse,
And in that eleccion her fadyr shuld haue no voyse.

Thys noble Tancret had in hys houshold,
As in a prynces court ys wont for to be,
Both lordes and knyghtes corageous to behold,
Som gentylmen, som yemen, som of low degre;
Among all thys pepyll she gan to loke and se
Yef she cowde fynde any that was to hyr plesure,
Whom she wold loue euyr, whyle she dyd endure.

So dayly in hyr mynde she was full dylygent
For to note euery man in hys demenaunce;
Who was best norturyd, who was fre and gent,
Who wysyst for to talke and had best vtteraunce,
Who vertuous in maner, with euery circumstaunce;
But aftyr she had consyderyd the houshold euerychon,
She hath gyfe all hyr love to Gunstard alon.

Thys gentylman was bore of pore auncetry;
Fortune hath dysdeyne[d] hys lytell auenture,
But nature hath indewyd hym so excellently
With semelynes of person and also nurture,
With maners that were euyn gentyll and demure,
Was neuer appayryd thorow any langage,
But well of euery man to sey was hys vsage.

He was of port euer lowly and therto curtays,
So well demenyng hym in all hys gesture,
That when he fond thys lady syttyng at the days,
Hardly, he lacked no poynt of nurture;
Clenly in all hys aray and hys changure,
Gydyng hym so manerly in euery dysport,
That euery man reioysyd hys vertues to report.

The lady so well had consydered the squyer,
Hys gentyll hert, hys nature, with hys demenaunce,
That hym to loue oonly was all her desyre
And he aperceuyd well the apperaunce
Of hyr cherefull ey and of hyr countenaunce,
That of benygne loue she daunceth in the trace,
The whyche hath bound hyr hert with hys goldyn lace.

But where she set hyr love he wyst in no case,
Tyll onys he fortunyd to stond before that lady,
And she beholdyng hym with dedly pale fase,
Nat spekyng a worde, she gaue a gret sygh,
And anon with that she gan withdraw hyr ygh,
Castyng downe hyr loke fer in to the ground;
So womanly shamefast she stood a gret stound.

And when thys yong louer was brought in lovys daunce
Had of hyr intent so gret experyence,
He was nat dull of wyt but gaue attendaunce,
Hyr to plese and serue he dyd hys diligence;
Cupyde hath smyt hym with so gret feruence
Of loue, that theyr hertes togedyr byn bounde,
Both persyd with on dart, two louers with on wounde.

Ryght ioyfull he was he stode in the grace
Of thys fayre lady, but euer he drad fortune;
`Allas!' he sayd, `the whele that turneth in lytell space
Thy dowbyll chere vnstable, that neuer wylt con[tune],
More variaunt and flyttyng then ys the mutabyll mone,
I fere that thow of enuy wylt cause my souuerayn
Vppon my symple byrth of daunger [to] dysdayn.

`Yef as yet I know her hert both trew and stedfast,
And she began also to profre loue,
Allas! why shuld I then fere and be agast,
Or put defaut in hyr? o! mercy, god aboue,
For all the tresour in erth hyt wold nat me behove
That my hertes ioy, my lady, herof wyst
I put in hyr any such mystryst.

`And also, percase yef that she louyd me nat,
Yet wold I in hyr seruice continually perseuer,
Hyt nedeth nat thys to argu by resons, for I wot
Loue hath hyr hert enbrasyd me for to loue euyr.'
What, shall I lengor tary? shortly, they had leuyr
Eche of theym to dy then to depart from othyr,
More feruently they louyd then dyd sustyr or brothyr.

So that betwene theym both that louyd in thys wyse,
They desyred oonly for theyr gret plesaunce
By som sotyll menes how they myght deuyse
For to speke togedyr and haue theyr dalyaunce;
They wyll put no trust nor affiaunce
To any man alyfe thys mater for to tell,
But euyn to theymsylf they kept hyt councell:

Tyll apon a tyme of soden auyse
The woman found a mene that was a gret cavtyle,
As oftyn tyme hyt fareth that wemen byn ryght wyse,
And in a sodeyn case they byn ryght subtyle;
She telleth hym hyr intent by wrytyng euerydele,
And the lettyr, closyd in a rede spyre,
She bad hym take the mayden, for to styre the fyre.

Gunstard remembryd well that for som preuy case
The reede was take to hym; he dyd hyt sone vnclose,
And when he sy the lettyr he made lytyll pavse;
Syttyng in a stody, anon he arose,
For to rede the lettyr he gan hym sone dyspose,
Whyche thys lady made of hyr owne indytyng,
She was hyr owne secretary, hyt was hyr owne wrytyng.

The tenure of thys letter was thys and all the effect:
`I send vnto yow gretyng with loue and hert entier,
Nat bold by rehersayll my counsell to detect
For dredefull shamefastnes; wherfore thys messyngere
Shall do all thys entyrpryce, whos countenaunce and chere
Changeth for no shame; therfore these lettres blake,
I pray yow, dysdeyne yow nat to rede theym for my sake;

`Certyfying yow, myne owne hertys plesaunce,
Of all my worldys rest my ioy and my comforture,
That my lyfe, my deth, as in a balaunce
Dependeth and hongeth only in your cure;
In yow oonly ys put all myn aventure,
Wherfore now, I pray yow that ye be nat straunge,
For I ensure yow truly my loue shall neuer chaunge.

`And I trow serten that your gentyll hert
Dysdeyneth nat my love ne ys nat daungerous,
Consyderyng your byrth and your gret pouert,
And I suche a lady both yong and beuteuous;
For Cupide knoweth well and hys modyr Venus,
That oonly for your vertues and your gentylnes
I set my loue on yow and for no gret ryches.

`But because my fadyr algates hath made an oth
That I shall neuyr be maryed, whyle that he ys lyuyng,
To suffre me depart fro hym he ys full loth;
But lusty youth and corage lyke as the fyre brennyng
Hath chose yow for my souerayn all my lyfe enduryng,
And also love hath shewyd of hys hygh fauour
The menes for to saue all worshyp and honour.

`Remembreth well, ther ys by my fadyrs place
A dongeon depe and strong, fer vndyr the ground,
The whyche for all hys entre hath no more space
But an hole above that lytell ys and round,
And because the wey ys neyther vsyd ne found,
With busshes and breres hyt ys all ouer grow,
So that the depe dongeon may no man se or know.

`Out of thys gret pyt ther ys a secret wey
By a posterne dor that stondeth full pryuyly,
Strong barres with postes and shut with lok and key,
That ledeth vnto the chambre the euyn streyt wey,
Ther as I in slepyng wont for to ly;
And by gret dysvse that wey ys out of mynde,
Thys lytell posterne dor no man can hyt fynde.

`Tyll at the last that loue, to whom nothyng ys hyd,
The whyche for euery sore can fynde a remedy,
Thys wey vnto my mynde sone hit hath reducyd;
But, hardly, I taryed nat, I hastyd for to hy,
On barres and on lokkes I gan to loke and pry,
And at the last, with payn and gret labour,
I haue found all the craft for to vndo the dor.

`By my sylf alon I went in to the cave,
I saw the lytell hole where ys the entryng,
How and in what wyse ye may your sylf save
Ayenst all maner perell in thyder comyng;
The heyght and the depth I send yow by wrytyng,
So that ye nede nat to fere for mysauenture;
Ye know now where and when ye may haue your plesure.'

And aftyr thys anon in hyr indytyng
Ther was a lytell clause for the conclusion,
As ys comyn vsage in euery wrytyng,
Where hyr name shold be, callyd the subscripsyon;
She wrot ther: `By your owne' and made no mencyon
Of hyr name, ne no more, tyll aftyr a gret stound,
And then, with sore syghyng, she addyd `Sismound'.

What maruaile now if he be not pensiue?
Now he hath rad this letter of comfort
And from his deedly sorrow turns againe to liue,
Sith he has almost raught the lustie port
Of pleasance, lust, solace and of all disport:
Wherefore he hasteth full besely and hieth
To meet his Ladie as the letter specifieth.

Who now but thys Gunstard with all hys dylygence
To thys plesaunt iorney spedyth hym a pace,
Euery oure that he ys out of hyr presence
Semyth vnto hym a thowsand yere of space,
But though the sloggyd carcas be fer fro hyr face,
Yet with the flyghty wynges of amorous desyre
He ys euer in hyr seruyce, brennyng hote as fyre.

A corde he let ordeyn anon of gret leynght,
And fast vnto a bussh about he dyd hyt ty,
Fret full of knottes, suffycient of streynght,
By the whyche vnto the pyt hymsylf he myght conuey
To close hym in ledyr he let puruey,
Fro busshes and breres to kepe hymsylf sure,
And thus toward the pyt he went in suche armure

The bryght ey of the world, when the shynyng day
Withdraweth and also Tytan with hys sprynkelyng lyght,
Than thys yong louer taketh hys iournay
Toward the gret pyt, abydyng ther all nyght,
Tyll on morow Aurora shone full feyre and bryght;
Then som to hawke and som to hunt and som to theyr labour,
Than began thys lady to com out of hyr toure.

Remembryng hersylf well, ner the [n]yght was gon,
Of theyr couenaunt made by iust apoyntment;
All hyr gentilwemen and maydenys euerychon
Anon in to hyr gardyn to sport and play she sent,
Feynyng hyr sylf syke, and for that entent
She sayd vnto hyr chambre she wold go full ryght,
For to take hyr rest, slepe yef she myght.

The dorrys and wyndowes she closyd anon full sure,
And then toward the dongeon she toke the streyte wey,
Where she found Gunstard; with hertes plesure
They kyssyd, then ioyfully she began to say
`Good god, gramercy, that I may se thys day,
To speke with hym that ys my worldys plesaunce,
In whom ys all my trust and all my hoole affiaunce.'

She brought hym to the chambyr, thys lady beauteuous,
Hyr fresshe apparayll was both lusty and gay,
Hyr surcote goold, well furryd with ermyne precyous;
A fayre myrrour of loue hyr beaute with aray;
So, shortly [for to tell], I can no more say.
But constru ye that byn louers what thay dyd--
I can say no more, but long they there abyd.

When they semyd best they partyd a sondyr,
They wold nat tary lengor ne dayly theyr sportes vse,
For dayly commyng causeth men oft to wondyr,
And also long tareyng maketh theym to muse;
And specyally the wemen[s] shrewde tonges wyll accuse
Your noble fame and sey that [your] lyfe ys nought,
Though ye neuer offend in dede nether in thought.

Wysely they prouydyd to eschew infamy,
And because all thynges shold secretly be kept,
She went in to hyr gardyne anon full hastyly,
Where hyr gentylwemen played, seying she had slept,
But at nyght Gunstard out the pit crept;
So commyng to hys lady and goyng by nyght away,
Contynuyng theyr plesure, tyll aftyr many a day

That fortune at the last treson falsly compast,
Dysclosyng all hys counsell by mysaventur;
All hyr lusty plesaunce was chaungyd at the last
In to cruell deth at theyr departure.
O fortune inconstaunt, that euyr art vnsure
Bryngyng hertes lyght to woo when they be wele,
Hyt semeth thow art nat able to rule thy whele!

Hyt ys next in our proces to speke of Tancret,
The nobyll prynce hyr fadyr, whyche for the gret feruence
For tendyr loue and affeccion moche more then was nede,
He delytyd somoche in hyr talkyng and eloquence
That he vsyd a custom and of gret frequence
To com vnto the chambre of hys doughtyr feyre,
And aftyr they had talkyd home agayne repeyre.

In the mery season of somer, [feyre] and hote,
When euery thyng revyueth by course of nature,
And wynter with hys frosty berde and hys frysyd cote
Ys put in to exyle, and may no lengor dure,
Then somer yeueth hys lyuerey with hys besy cure,
New clothyng all the erthe in a lusty grene,
Embroudyd full of floures ryght fresshly besene,

Steryng hertys lyght in gardeyns for to walke;
So dyd thys lady Sismounde for hyr gret plesaunce--
That was her name--and, pluckyng the floures fro the stalke,
She made a fressh garlond, therwith she thought to daunce;
But in the mene whyle, allas! the vnhappy chaunce,
Hyr fadyr on a custom, as he was wont to do,
Only to talke with hyr he ys to hyr chambyr go.

But he perseuyd she was in hyr dysport,
Ryght loth he was to let hyr recreacion,
He wold for nothyng hys doughtyr dyscomfort
Ne dysquyet hyr, tyll she had all doon;
Forth in to the chambre he entred ryght soon,
The curteyns were draw and by the beddes syde
He set hym behynde a curtayn hys doughtyr to abyde.

As he sat styll, slepe dyd hym so encombre,
He wexed all vnlusty and so sompnolent,
That lenyng to the bed he began to slombre.
O thow vntrusty fortune! what ys thyne entent?
To dystroy thys lady hyt thow hast ment;
Where thow lyst bewry, thow kepyst no counsell;
That shold be kept secret thow tellest euerydell.

O prynces doughtyr, Sismounde! infortunat was thy byrth,
And also ryght vnhappy, when thow gan furst wurne
With law in hys palyce; thy plesaunt won of myrth
Ys com to the hyghest and now begynneth to turne;
Aslake, thow malycyous saturne!
I trowe ther be som enuy or malycyous aspect,
Of all thys feruent loue thow hast brokyn the effect.

Thys lady Sismound, thynkyng no deceyte ne gyle,
Departyd from hyr gentilwomen and to hyr chambre went,
And so forth to the pyt within a lytell whyle,
Where she found Gunstard all redy present;
But lytell afore thys she had [for] hym sent;
And when they were com in, they had no mystrust,
They knew nobody there, they dyd all that theym lust.

But when hyr fadyr sawe the abhominable cryme,
Aftyr that he owt of hys slepe was awak[e],
He thought to haue cryed, but for a lytell tyme
He semyd hit was best to let hys angor slake,
And esyly hys payne with hymsylf to take;
He made no noyse ne steryng, but euer sate styll,
Tyll they had all theyre plesaunce aftyr theyr owne wyll.

And aftyr they departyd, as they had done afore,
Gunstarde vnto the pyt, and she to the wymen,
Thys wofull man hyr fadyr wold tary there no more,
But hom he went in hast and callyd forth hys men,
Of the whyche he sent a certeyn vnto the den
For to take Gunstard, when he shuld come thens,
And bad they shuld bryng hym to hys owne presens.

When thys man came vp, anon they hym arest,
With dede and pale vysage for verrey fere he shoke,
All they had compassion on hym, both most and lest,
And forth in the same aray as they hym toke
They brought hym to the prynce and [he] gan on hym loke
With gret wrathe and angor, verrey pale of chere,
Seying vnto Gunstard as ye shall after here.

`Gunstard', he sayd, `my loue and tendyr fauour,
The gentyl hert, that I haue shewyd to yow,
Hath nothyng deseruyd so gret a dyshonour
Done to me and myne, as ye haue do ryght now;
Seyng mysylf all thyng what ye dyd and how,
That trewly, so that I myght my worshyp saue,
I wold I were dede and beryed in my graue.'

Thys gret rebuke contynually went euyn to [the] hert
Of Gunstard, whyche for shame can nat speke oon worde,
Tyll a[tt] the last with corage boldly forth he stert,
Seying no more but thys: `remembre yow, my lorde,
Experience, I trow, of my sentence wyll acorde,
The myghty power of loue ys strengor and the bonde
Then eyther yow or I haue power to withstond.'

But all thys excuse was in vayn, saunce fayle,
So was hys mynde with malyce and yre obnub[i]lat.
Alas! where malyce regneth, ther may non excuse avayle;
A gret abusyon hyt ys a ruler to be impassionat;
O ye worthy prynces! therfore, to whom of hygh estat
The gydyng ys commyttyd of noble regyons,
Well ye ought to take hede to rule your pa[ssyo]ns!

Committeth nat wylfully sensualyte,
Agayn the ryghtfull conscience of reson to put restreynt;
Beth nat rulyd only by myrthe and volunte,
Oppressyng by [m]yght and power theym that be weke and feynt,
Wherby your noble fame ys oftyn hurt and atteynt;
Hyt causeth also the pepyll in tyme of your dystresse
To draw from yow theyr fauour and herty feythfulnesse.

To euery glosyng tale yeueth nat to sone credence,
Let nat hast ne symplenes gyde your iugement;
Remembre well, yef ye dyffyne your sentence,
What shalbe the ende and all the hoole entent;
Rule yoursylf dyscretly by good auysement;
Remembre the prouerbe, seying of long ago:
`A cruell hasty man wanteth neuer wo.'

Whyche [ys] preuyd by Tancret, whos cruell hastynes
Hath commyttyd Gunstard anon to pryson,
Committyng hym in gyves and in gret dures
As a traytour gylty of prodicion;
And aftyrward, agayn all reason,
Thys innocent was [do] to deth so furyously,
That euery man abhorryd to here the tyrauntcy.

What man of hys wyt ys so dull and hard
That cannat thynk here by ymaginacion
The gret thought thys lady had for her Gunstard?
Sore troubelyd in hyr slepe by dreme and vysyon,
Her mynd was set on hym by suche impressyon,
That both of well and wo and all hys aventure
Was shewyd to hyr in slepe by verrey fygure.

I trow she had ryght ferefull vysyons and dremys,
When hyr loue was prysonyd in that wofull nyght;
In wepyng hyr eyen watered lyke to stremys,
And euyr she thought Gunstard stode before hyr syght,
Holdyng in a cowpe an hert all blody dyght;
Hymsylf eke spreynt with blood, he dyd hyr salew,
Spekyng: `farewell, Sismonde, thys ys my last valew.'

And she thought hyr answer was to hym anon:
`Allas! wyll ye so sone make a departure,
And voyde of all comfort, leue me thys alon?
Ye shall nat so, dere hert, for certeyn, I ensure,
I shall but onys drynk and do my best cure
To go with yow; how so your iorney torne,
My hert and youres togedyr shall euermore soiorne.'

And sodenly with that, out of hyr slepe she start,
As woman from hyrsylf; she was so sore afrayed,
She thought of verrey deth the swerde wen[t] to hyr hert;
And thys, with sore wepyng, by hyrsylf she prayed:
`O myrrour of all wymen! mylde maydyn!' she sayd,
`From all shame and veleny my love and me defend,
And helpe that my dreme non euyll to me pretend.'

All thyse and many mo thynges co[niec]turall
May well be ymagynyd by persuasion;
But all thys ys but figuryd as dreme fantasticall,
And eke myn auctor maketh therof no mension,
So that I thinke [to make] no maner digression,
Endytyng any poynt that ys nat pertynent
Vnto my furst purpose or to my furst entent.

Wherfore, I wyll procede to speke furst of Sismonde
Whyche of Gunstardes duresse had no notyce,
Saue oonly by hyr dremys, tyll aftyr a gret stounde
Tancret cam to hyr chambre, as was hys old gyse,
And she anon with reuerence agayn hym gan aryse,
Welcommyng hyr fadyr with obeysaunt lowlynes,
Whyche sayd vnto hyr as I shall expres:

`Doughtyr,' he sayd, `Sismond, your womanly port,
Your vertuous talkyng and goodly demenaunce,
Your stedfast hert and gydyng haue such su[pp]ort,
Trusty in your sadnes with hole affiaunce,
That ye of lusty Venus to the voluptuous plesaunce
Without assent geuyn, I mene of maryage,
Wold nat haue takyn yoursylf, for all your hygh corage.

`But I se well my wyt was dull and blynde,
For truly I wold haue demyd the gret occyan
Shuld sonner haue dryed vp, flamyng ayenst kynde,
Then ye wold onys haue thought to be a myswoman,
For yef I had nat sene the dede, where and whan,
Shuld neuer man haue causyd me to haue supposaill
That ye wold haue done so, but hyt had be spousaill.

`Remembryng yow therof what hurt and gret damage
Ye dyd vnto your byrth and also blood royall,
[When ye, lyke] a woman of gordell and p[r]ostrage,
Toke what cam to hond a[s] chaunce wold fall;
Hyt semeth ye put no dyfference betwene get and berall,
Now to yow a flynt and a dyamounde,
Pesyn as good as perles oryent and rounde.

`Fro all goodly womanhede ye be degenerant,
Whyche of worshyp souerayn ys desyrous;
But ye peruert all thys, ye be so varyant,
Toke in stede of worshyp your lust voluptuous,
And trewly in comparyson your offence were nat greuous,
Yef ye had take suche oon as had be couenable
To your nobyll byrth and to yow agreable.

`But in all thys region, hyt semeth by your choyse,
Lord, knyght, ne squyer was non to your pleasure,
Of blood royall ne other in whom ye couth reioyse,
Saue oonly in pore Gunstard, whos byrth and a[uen]ture
Fortune of hygh dysdeyn hath take nothyng in cure,
Whyche of gret pouert in tyme of mysery
Without any releve had dyed for penury;

`So that to my cruell deth dayly I r[e]we;
Deth? [n]ay, more then deth I may hyt call truly,
Persyng myn hert ay fresshe with woundys new and new
By the shamefast swerde of rebuke and velany,
Whyche ye haue do, Sismound, to all your auncetry,
Chesyng suche on that shalbe my landes inherytaunt,
Whyche ys of erthe ignobyll and a pore mendicaunt.

`Wherfore I thynke and purpose to repres
Hys gret haunsyd pryde and hygh presumpcion,
Condempnyng hym for hys ryot to payn and sharpnes,
Entendyng the lawe to haue the iust execucion;
Shortly, he shall dy, thys ys the conclusion
Vtterly I have determynyd for hys gret offence.
But of yow, Sismound, I geve nat yet sentence.

`For I may well resemble as in my vagous mynde
A shyp without anker, lackyng a sterne also,
Whyche by the stormy rage of euery furyous wynde
As a thyng vnstabyll [ys] ay chasyd to and fro;
Semblably as now I am oon of tho;
My dowtefull mynde ys brought to such perplexyte
A[nd] cast fro syde to syde betwene iustyce and pyte.

`Furst iustyce meveth me for to do correccion,
Rewardyng euery wyght aftyr hys desert,
Do som love and gret fauour, som payn and affliccion,
But mercy with fadyrly pyte so stereth my tendyr hert,
That hyt permytteth me nat s[e] ne advert
Your crymynall offence, but rather doth hit excuse,
So that betwene theym both I stand as a man confuse.'

And forthwith anon he fell on wepyng,
As a yong infaunt sore scorgyd or bete;
In all worldly plesaunce reioysyd he nothyng,
Sorow and shame feruently by the hert hym fret,
Seying nothyng, but thus sat styll, full mewet:
`Doughtyr,' he sayde, `for your part, yef ye wyll aske mercy
To pardon your offence, forsoth, I am redy.'

But when Sismound saw how hyr love Gunstard
In pryson was enteryd, kept with cheynys strong,
That fortune also to her was so crewell and hard,
But publysshed all hyr counseyll that secret had be long,
For with gentyls and mynstrellys hyt was a comon song,
So that euery man in all the contrey rownde
Spake of the infortunat love of Gunstard and Sismound;

Wherefore she plunged so fer in to the pyt of sorowes depe,
I trowe that euery hert, whyche of gentylnes ys tendur,
Yef I shuld tell her payn, wold also morne and wepe;
Full oft she wrang her fyngyrs long and sklendure,
Seying: `all worldly plesaunce now I here surrendyr,
For my love Gunstard ys iuged to dy,
I wyll do the same, ther ys no more to sey.

`Wherfore, o thow cursyd fortune! with thy double chere,
All thy gret malyce holy I defy,
Settyng ryght nought by thy deynows daunger;
Thow shalt nat vs depart, for all thyne enuy,
For oure love togedyr shall dwell perseuerauntly.'
And turnyng to hyr fadyr with corage and gret boldnes,
She sayd, as in my boke myn auctor doth expres:

`Tancret,' she sayd, `my faute, yef I wold so hit call,
Nother I wyll deny hyt ne pray yow for fauour,
For as for the furst, may helpe me nothyng at all,
Syth ye haue full knowlege of my love paramour,
And as for the secund to aske grace or fauour,
I wyll take no helpe therof in no wyse,
Of your helpe and socour I aske no benyfyce.

`So that I confesse all the hole entent;
My love ys set on Gunstard and hath be many a day,
And yet aftyr also that my spyryt and soule ys went
From thys brotyll mansion of hys body fer away,
Yef nature may helpe me any meane to puruay
That I myght then execute myn affeccion and wyll,
Yet wold I nat astart my deth to loue him euer styll.

`And ye thynk thys loue be so gret a cryme,
Forsoth, the cause therof was your owne neglygence;
When of youth and corage my lusty tyme
The brennyng fyre of youth with so gret feruence
Persyd myn hert, and yet your cruell insolence
Wold nat suffyr me, for all my gret payne,
Aftyr my housbond was dede to be maryed agayne.

`Yef ye had well lernyd the doctryne of prudence,
Ye wold remembre your substaunce materiall;
I trow hit shuld be enpryntyd in your aduertence
That ye be matier freell that ys carnall;
Ryght so am I your doughtyr by the vertu semynall;
I am neyther made of yron, ston, ne bras,
But of flessh and blood more brytyll then glas.

`Also, though your hede be whyte, snowyd for age,
Your frosty lymes eke byn crampyssh and colde,
The hete ys nygh execute of your lusty corage,
Ye[t] ought yow, forsoth, to consyder and beholde
How hoote ys youth, and brennyng with pryckynges manyfold,
Assaylyng euery man, be he neuer so hawte,
With many a fyry dart and hote feruent assavte.

`Above all thynges in speciall ye haue in memory,
Though ye haue spent gret part of your lusty season
In armys and knyghthode and dedys of cheualry,
Yet shold ye nat foryete, hit semeth me, by reason
Ease, rest, and delycates, what cause and encheson
They geve to stere a man to hote corage feruent,
As well in crokyd age as in a lusty iuuent.

`All these occasyons I had and many mo,
Whyche meuyd that I was so gretly desyrous,
Borne by cause of nature, of flessh and blood also,
Of corage lusty, vareaunt, yong and amorous;
Fostred also with plesaunce and gose delycyous,
And yet that stereth most--hyt was my chyef [m]otyfe
The experience therof syth I was a wyfe.

`But all thys ys ferre from your remembraunce,
Ye thynk nat on your youth, whyche ys passyd and go;
Ye may well resemble hym in your demenaunce,
Whyche fell in the dyche with [other] oon or two,
But aftyr he was vp delyuered from hys wo,
He thought nothyng of all dere he had beforne,
Hys felows he rebukyd, lawghyng theym to scorne.

`And though that ye haply couth rule your passyons,
Ye set nought by her force and also hyr vyolence,
Yet myght nat my frealte agayn suche occasyons
Make none euyn part ne no defence;
My hert was nat so byg to make resistence,
And at the last, so woundyd with loves fyry launce,
I was subdewyd hys prysoner to the castell of plesaunce.

`Neuertheles, my deuour I put with dylygence
All sklaunders [and] infamy to voyde and eschew,
And fortune of hyr fauour yave vs assistence
Oure lusty sport and plesaunce oftyn to renew.
We thought hyr dowbyll promyse had be stedfast and trew,
Blaundysshyng euyr with suche contyn[au]nce and chere,
As though our sonny plesaunce shuld euyr [shyne] clere.

`But now I se ryght well she begynneth for to chaunge,
Syth ye of all oure councell haue pleynly notyce,
Syth fals ys fortune, euyr varyaunt and straunge;
But how ye com to knowlege or in what wyse,
My wyt ys rude and dull, I cannat hit deuyse,
Whedyr by experience or by informacion,
By force prestigious or som supersticion.

`And wold god your knowlege were certayn and trew,
Ne mevyd ne made by falce suggestion;
Ye wold nat then your doughter so blame and pursew,
Seying that I erre in myne eleccion,
Takyng no sad guydyng ne dyreccion,
But lat my rafull ren at the hole chawnce,
I was nat so folehasty, without deliberaunce,

`For I set nat my loue by fatall entent,
Or of verrey hap as a comen vela[yn];
But with delyberacion and full auysement
I yaue my loue to Gunstard, as to my souerayn,
And trewly to name the verrey certayn,
Where ye be to blame, fadyr, hyt semeth me
To say that my loue was to euery man lyke fre.

`As to the gret repre[ff]e also by feynyng contryved,
Whyche ye had when ye furst agayn me dyd obiect,
Seying that my shyp of plesaunce was arryved
In a port whyche was ignoble and despect,
I mene, ye seyde that Gunstard was pore and deiect,
Hauyng no part of nobylnes by lyneall dyscent,
Whyche maketh my fawtes gret aftyr your iugement;

`But as in that ye folow the comon vnstabyll vulge,
Ay lakkyng and blastyng, varyaunt as the wynd;
By fame the flying messynger, whych publysshy[th] in devulge,
Ther comen rude opynyons ignorant and blynd,
[Seying it is a prouerbe sufficient and kinde:]
``He that ys nat born to habundance of good,
But nedy for pouert, ys nat [of] gentyll blood.''

`Thys ys theyr folyssh reasons, dayly talkyng they erre,
N[at think]yng how fortune by hyr vnstable centyr
Plongeth estates gret downe from hyr whele full fer,
When she lyst of daunger to swarve and repent hyr;
But wold [they] well consyder the furst oryginall entyr
Of oure comon byrth in oure begynnyng,
Brought forth in to thys world poore, nakyd, and wepyng,

`Then shold they remembre who were of noblenes,
Who myght hym intytyll to the gentyll blood royall;
They shuld se how nature with all her hole besynes
Bryngeth forth hyr effectes in meruelous werkes all,
Beyng in hys byrth to euery man equall;
For as nakyd ys a kyng born, I vndyrstand,
As ys the laborer that hath nedyr house ne land.

`Furst when oure modyr Eue brought forth Abell and Caym,
Who cowde prefer hymself of byrth or of lynage,
And of theym tweyne infauntes, who cowde a tytyll claym
In gentyll blood, in noblenes, or in hygh parage?
That tyme was no dyfference betwyxt gentylman and ,
But euery man was fayne to put hym in deuour
Hys lyuyng for to gete with swetyng and gret labour.

`Of all thys tyme was no man bound ne vndyr seruage,
No man by seruyce vndyr subieccyon,
Tyll when the pepyll gan to revell and rage,
Guydyng theymsylf by wyll and nothyng by reson,
Offendyng the lawe by theyr transgression,
That of ryght and iustice they must be correct
Of oon that was theyr souuerayn and they to hym subiect.

`But he that shuld be rewler and haue regency
May nat of ryght be suche on as ys a transgressour;
Agayn all dew ordyr [of nature] hyt ys, truly,
That vyce shuld syt above and be a gouernour;
But when that vertu, connyng, gentilnes, honour,
He ys of ryght prouyd to be a souerayn,
All though hys byrth be poore, thys ys the certayn.

`On thys wyse was Moyses and Gidion also,
The noble Duke Iosue, by god hymsylf elect,
And scrypture reherseth many mo,
Whyche a[t] theyr byrth were pore and deiect,
Yet were they for theyr vertu chosyn [to] direct
And to gyde the pepyll; so, shortly, thys ys trew,
That ther ys no gentylman but oonly by vertew.

`Then, fadyr, take hede in all your houshold,
Remembre well hys gentylnes in all hys gesture,
The guydyng eke of Gunstard yef ye lyst behold,
Hys lowly demenyng with all the behauyour,
I trow ye woll afferme that Madam natur
Hath grauntyd more to hym then to many of tho
Whyche ye call gentyll men, all though they be nat so.

`And truly I [neuer] herd make suche relacion
In preysyng and lawde of Gunstard hys noblenesse,
As I haue oftyn herd by youre owne assercion,
Commendyng hys vertu and hys gentylnesse;
Yet was the vertu more then was the fame dowtles,
Syth ye sey that Gunstard ys no gentylman--
Forsoth, ye sey vntrew and lytell good ye can.

`Yef ye had callyd hym pore, ye had nat gretly erryd,
And yet, forsoth, to yow that ys a vylany
To kepe a gentylman with yow vnpreferred,
Syth he ys attendaunt in your seruice dayly;
A gentylman suffyr[eth] nat hys man to be nedy,
But though that nedy pouert take from a man ryches,
Yet hyt bereveth hym nat nurture and gentylnes.

`As for your doutfull ambiguyte
What iudyce ye shall yeue to me, or what sentence,
Be nat thys in dowte nor in suche perplexyte.
Yef he dy, I dy by cruell violence,
For I was rote and cause of all the gret offence;
Wherfore, yef ye wyll nat my deth accomplyssh,
Myne owne cruell handes my lyfe shall sone fynyssh.

`For iustyce knoweth full well with hyr equall balance,
Whyche ys ryghtfull iuge vnto euery wyght,
My faute ys more then hys by iust preponderaunce;
Why, then, shuld ye with a swerd nat sharply smyte,
Syth that in my person ys only all the wyte?
Reason wold that I shuld haue the correccyon,
Whyche was the veray cause and chyef occasyon.

`And yef hyt be yowre plesure to graunt at my request
To chaunge hys mortall faut with mercyfull pardon,
I geve yow for hys fynaunce the thyng that ye loue best,
Myne own l[yf]e I mene, I geve yow that to guerdon;
For, yef ye sle Gunstard, thys ys the conclusion,
Let your cruell hastynes your doughtyr sle also,
For, yef ye do hyt nat, mysylf I shall hit do.'

Thys nobyll prynce hyr fadyr perseuyd ryght well
Hyr chere nothyng abasshyd, hyr hert nat femynyne,
Yet he thought she was nat so tygrous and cruell
Hersylf to procure hyr own deth and mortall fyne;
He thought her feruent hete of loue sh[u]l[d] sone declyne,
Yef the fyre were nat ay kyndelyd new and new
By the syght of Gunstard, chyef comfort of hyr vew.

Wherfore Tancret, hys yre thenkyng to accomplyssh,
Send forth hys men by nyght pryuyly
To sle thys wofull Gunstard. O Tancret! thow mayst wyssh
That Sysmond had neuer byn born, for thy noble glory,
She ys darkyd sore and maculat by th[y] tyranny,
Commaundyng the hert new blody in vyolent force
Furyously to be rent out of the murdred corce.

Tancret had closyd thys hert, bespreynt with blood all rownd,
In a cowpe of gold in stede of sepulture,
And by a messynger he send hit to Sismound,
Whyche hath don hy[r] dylygence and also besy cure,
Entendyng hyr owne cruell deth to procure;
Of herbys and rotys to make [a] po[ty]on,
Myxt in a lytell vyoll with venemous poyson.

And the messynger sayd, shortly to expresse:
`Madam,' he sayd, `my lord your fadyr hath sent
Thys wofull yeft, thys donatyf, vnto your noblenesse,
The thyng ye louyd best he sent yow in present,
Certyfying yow hyt ys hys hole intent
To geve of Gunstard such ioy and comforture,
As he gaue hym of Sismond, whyche was all hys plesure.'

When thys lady sy thys hert shrynyd in gold,
She vndyrstode anon hyr souuerayn was dede.
Allas! now be the kalendes of deth peynfull and cold
Enteryd and began, now can she no rede,
Now ys she pale and wan, the floure of womanhede,
That whylom was the myrrour of bewte and feyrenes,
The oryent margaryte of nurture and gentylnes.

Voyde of all comfort, she sat styll dysmayed,
Tyll at the last with bold and herty corage,
Beholdyng the messynger, thus to hym she sayd:
`Hyt were agayn reson to put yow in damage,
Oonly for the doyng of your message;
But, as for my fadyr, I geve yow in wetyng,
Ye shall in my behalf bere hym no gretyng.

`For he resembleth more in hys furyous rage
A tyraunt then a prynce, ay thursty for vengeaunce,
Whyche cowth hys crewell pa[ssyo]n[s] attemp[re] ne aswage,
Ne in all hys lyfe hymsylf cowde avaunce
To so gret lawde and worshyp, as when hys puruyaunce
Let hys hert be shrynyd in to a tombe of gold,
And in thys oonly hys goodnes may be told.'

And when she lust in talkyng to con[tune],
Beholdyng the hert in wofull sepulture,
She began hys exequyes with piteuous entune,
Seying with feynt spyryt: `o ioyous mon[t]ure!
Hostage of all lust, verrey port of plesure,
Cursyd mut he be and waryed eternally,
Whyche causeth that I se with my mortall ey!

`Hyt was ynough to me, and also most plesaunt,
To behold with mynde and the lusty syght
Of tru loue ay stedfast and nat variaunt;
Hyt ys to moche to se the opyn in the lyght,
Syth now the course ys don, thyn account ys quyte,
Tyll Fortune hath complysshyd thy fate and mortall fyne,
Buryed all in gold in stede of thy lybytyne.

`I trow ther was no lak of thyng that shuld behove
Vnto the dedly fate and seruyce funerall,
Save oonly the tyrlyng teres of hyr that was thy love,
For wepyng shuld euyr be at departyng mortall,
Wherfore I trow my fadyr now at thy destiny fatall
Hath sent the to my chambyr with a wofull chaunce
That I shuld bewayle thy deth, performyng thyne obseruaunce.

`And I shall fulfyll with my power and myght
All thynges requysyte vnto thy mortuary,
And aftyr all thys ys doon, the custom and the ryght,
I shall geve mysylf to deth trybutary,
Sewyng thy ferefull trace anon, I shall nat tary,
But among othyr in dethys wofull daunce
Folow next thy hand, as ys my fatall chaunce.

`In whos felyshyp, or in whos comytyve,
Myght I better passe that peynfull iorney
Than in hys whom I louyd most alyve?
And also he taryeth for me, I dar well say,
Wherfore, syth I was partener of hys plesaunce allwey,
I shall also take part of hys dedly payne.
Deth shall nat vs deseuyr, thys ys the sertayne.'

And anon with that hyr chere began to turne,
Hyr eyen ran on wepyng lyke shoures of rayne,
Tyll she had wasshyn the hert, fyllyng the vrne
With the styllyng water of hyr eyen twayne,
And aftyr she had cesyd hyr wepyng, agayne
Beholdyng the hert with a dedly chere,
With sobbyng twyes she sayd, as ye shall aftyr here:

`O ioyfull hert! O amyable amour!
Now lacketh ther nothyng requyred of dewte
Vnto the dedly fyne and funerall honour,
Save oonly that I myght now folow the;
But because hit semeth that deth dysdeyneth me,
I shall therfor mysylf with vyolent force
Dysseuyr my spyryt from hys wofull corce.'

Allas! my wofull pen soroweth for to wryte
Thys lamentable ende for thys tragedy.
Who cowde without wepyng thys matyr endyte,
To se so feyre a creature to dy so wrechydly,
Of bewte feyrest and welle of curtesy?
She toke, allas! the vyoll with the po[ty]on
That she had made afore, and drank vp the poyson.

Aftyr she had dronk that pestyferous draught,
Hyrsylf opon the bed full carefully she layde,
And deth without tareyng anon dyd hyr assaut,
Grypyng her swollyn hert with many a greuous brayd;
Mornyng she lay styll and neuer a word she sayd;
Hyr spyrytes feyntyd sore and sore shortyd hyr breth,
Whyche byn tokyns euydent and messyngers of deth.

All hyr gentylwemen gretly they meruelyd
Of hyr gret sorow and wofull complaynt;
Yche askyd of other what theyr lady eylyd,
And what the hert pretendyd with blood al bespraynt,
There lying in a cowpe with watery teres draynt;
So wofully they sorowyd syghyng with syghes depe,
That truly hyt wold haue made any man to wepe.

For they the aventure nothyng wyst ne knew,
That was the cause of theyr sorow, but anon blyue
They all wepyd for pyte and on hyr gan rew,
Praying her gretly hyr spyrytes to reviue;
But in the po[r]t of dyspeyr playnly to aryve
She purposyd, so that with ioy ne with gladnes
Ne cowde they hyr chere, so moche was hyr heuynes.

Suche gentyll women as were most preuy
With hyr askyd the cause of hyr dyssese,
But she shonyd theyr speche and to theym gan say:
`I pray yow, be pese, gretly ye me dysplese;
Pardy, hyt lyth nat in yow to ease
My sorow, for no ioy may me delyte,
For of all thys world geve I nat a myte.'

And euyr she sayd, with mornyng chere vnsessaunt:
`O derworth, belouyd, swete hert!
Honoure the I shall, whyle I am viuaunt,
And when the soule out of my body ys stert,
To the felyshyp of thyne hyt shall aduert;
Where euyr hyt com, in woo or wele,
I geve no force, so that hit may thyne sequele.'

When all the ladyes and gentylwymen
Ryght sorowfull sy hyr in thys vexacion,
Conceuyd the sygnes of deth in hyr, ryght then
They sent hyr fadyr worde of hyr trybulacion,
Whyche that tyme walkyd in hys recreacion,
And when hyt was told hym of thys vnhappy dede,
He cam in gret hast, with hert heuy as lede.

Hyt hapnyd euyn as the cruell venym
Gan to sprede and in all veynes to [habounde],
The prynce with pale, dedly chere cam in that same tyme,
The whyche with hertly sorow was almost confounde;
When he saw hys doughtyr, he fell to the grounde,
Wepyng as a chylde, and wrang hys handes fast,
So sore repentyng, that hym thought hys hert tobrast.

Then spake he to hyr wordys meke and fayre,
Saying, `good Sismound, be of good chere, for and
Yef ye morne thus, hyt wyll bryng yow to despeyre.'
Thus he wenyd to haue esyd hyr of hyr band
With hys comfort, but deth was at hand
Crampysshyng hyr lymes, gon was hyr syght;
Yet she answeryd hyr fadyr agayn as she myght,

And seyd: `Tancret, bestow bettyr, yef thow can,
Thy teares, for they stond me in noon effect;
Thow resemblest as he whyche slew the man,
Aftyr repentyd, and hym bewept;
Had hyt nat be bettyr for to haue kept
Thy sorowfull doughtyr in ioy lyuyng,
At hyr plesure secretly a man louyng,

`Than to se by thy cruell execusion
Hyr hard deth, to thyne endles langour,
The whyche deth shalbe gyde and direccion,
Yeuyng opyn knowlege of thys errour,
The whyche was secret, but now by rumour
Shall make the thynges that were hyd and vnknowyn
Thorough all the world to be ouers[ow]yn.'

And in so moche that Sismound myght no lengor speke,
The throwes of deth no lengor wold delay,
She holdyng the cowpe styll, hyr hert gan to breke,
Yeldyng vp hyr spyryt for euer and ay;
Ther was but `allas! allas!' and `welaway!'
Som wept, som cryed, and som fell in sowne,
Hyt was a pyteous syght and a hydyous sowne.

The wofull fadyr so [sory] in that stound,
Seyng hys most ioy of the world agon,
He made a gret shryke, fallyng to the ground,
No more wordes spake, but ded as any ston;
Thys was hyr sorow and mone opon mone,
Wherfore hyt hath be spokyn fer agoo
That an hasty creature wanteth neuyr wo.

Vppon thys prynce thys may be veryfyed,
[Whyche was] hasty [in] fury [haw]tayne,
Without iugement slew the man aforsayd,
Whos cruell deth hath hys doughtyr slayne;
And of hyr deth he toke suche an endles payne,
He dawyd neuyr good day aftyr, but was ded,
And all the world wondred of hys folyhed.

Ensample of thys euery wyse man take
What hyt ys to be cruell in violence,
And [of] a secret thyng a wondyr to make,
Thorough hasty yre wantyng prouydence;
Euery man remembre hys owne neglygence,
And wyse in [to] vertu to plant a[nd] rote,
For truly ayenst loue ther ys no bote.

For certayn hyt ys of trew louers the gyse,
When theyr trobyll and vexacion ys most sore,
They wyll yche other loue in more herty wyse
An hundred fold more then they dyd before;
Youth wyll to youth, loue wyll to loue euermore;
And, shortly, thys proces to conclude,
Euerythyng wyll draw to hys simylytude,

As betwene these louers hyt dyd appere,
Whyche were both yong and in flowryng age,
For theyr trobyll they louyd the better in fere,
And passyd of deth the dredefull vyage.
Allas! the lettyng of hyr mariage
Was cause of thys myschyef, without fayle;
Lo! what hyt ys to be agayn spousayle.

Wherfore thys prynce standeth in gret perell,
That to the l[aw] of wedlok wold nat inclyne,
And as a tyraunt beyng ferse and fell,
Causyng Gunstard to be put in to mortall fyne;
Of whos soule yef that I shall determyne,
I trust to god hys feythfull intencion
Be the cause of hys endles saluacion.

For why? he thought no harme to noon erthly wyght,
At the request of Sismond he dyd consent;
Natwithstandyng, I trust to god allmyght
Hyt shalbe to her soule noon impedyment,
For to haue be maryed hyt was theyr entent;
Then ryken the sorow that she had withall,
And the gret contricion of hyr ende fynall:

That, as I trust, she ys in the blys celestyall,
For of feyth and trouth all louers surmowntyng,
She was a myrrour vnto wymen all,
Ensample of trew and stedfast loue yeuyng,
Wherfore I beseche hym that ys of all thyng
Lord and gouernour and comfort ayenst all bale,
Graunt these louers ioy and thus endeth my tale.

Explicit.