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The which upon the See sche ferketh.

The wynd aros, the weder derketh,

It blew and made such tempeste,

Non ancher mai the schip areste,

Which hath tobroken al his gere;

The Schipmen stode in such a feere,

Was non that myhte himself bestere,

Bot evere awaite upon the lere, 610

Whan that thei scholde drenche at ones.

Ther was ynowh withinne wones

Of wepinge and of sorghe tho;

This yonge king makth mochel wo

So forto se the Schip travaile:

Bot al that myhte him noght availe;

The mast tobrak, the Seil torof,

The Schip upon the wawes drof,

Til that thei sihe a londes cooste.

Tho made avou the leste and moste, 620

Be so thei myhten come alonde;

Bot he which hath the See on honde,

Neptunus, wolde noght acorde,

Bot altobroke cable and corde,

Er thei to londe myhte aproche,

The Schip toclef upon a roche,

And al goth doun into the depe.

Bot he that alle thing mai kepe

Unto this lord was merciable,

And broghte him sauf upon a table, 630

Which to the lond him hath upbore;

The remenant was al forlore,

Wherof he made mochel mone.

Thus was this yonge lord him one,

Al naked in a povere plit:

His colour, which whilom was whyt,

Was thanne of water fade and pale,

And ek he was so sore acale

That he wiste of himself no bote,

It halp him nothing forto mote 640

To gete ayein that he hath lore.

Bot sche which hath his deth forbore,

Fortune, thogh sche wol noght yelpe,

Al sodeinly hath sent him helpe,

Whanne him thoghte alle grace aweie;

Ther cam a Fisshere in the weie,

And sih a man ther naked stonde,

And whan that he hath understonde

The cause, he hath of him gret routhe,

And onliche of his povere trouthe 650

Of suche clothes as he hadde

With gret Pite this lord he cladde.

And he him thonketh as he scholde,

And seith him that it schal be yolde,

If evere he gete his stat ayein,

And preide that he wolde him sein

If nyh were eny toun for him.

He seide, "Yee, Pentapolim,

Wher bothe king and queene duellen."

Whanne he this tale herde tellen, 660

He gladeth him and gan beseche

That he the weie him wolde teche:

And he him taghte; and forth he wente

And preide god with good entente

To sende him joie after his sorwe.

It was noght passed yit Midmorwe,

Whan thiderward his weie he nam,

Wher sone upon the Non he cam.

He eet such as he myhte gete,

And forth anon, whan he hadde ete, 670

He goth to se the toun aboute,

And cam ther as he fond a route

Of yonge lusti men withalle;

And as it scholde tho befalle,

That day was set of such assisse,

That thei scholde in the londes guise,

As he herde of the poeple seie,

Here comun game thanne pleie;

And crid was that thei scholden come

Unto the gamen alle and some 680

Of hem that ben delivere and wyhte,

To do such maistrie as thei myhte.

Thei made hem naked as thei scholde,

For so that ilke game wolde,

As it was tho custume and us,

Amonges hem was no refus:

The flour of al the toun was there

And of the court also ther were,

And that was in a large place

Riht evene afore the kinges face, 690

Which Artestrathes thanne hihte.

The pley was pleid riht in his sihte,

And who most worthi was of dede

Receive he scholde a certein mede

And in the cite bere a pris.

Appolinus, which war and wys

Of every game couthe an ende,

He thoghte assaie, hou so it wende,

And fell among hem into game:

And there he wan him such a name, 700

So as the king himself acompteth

That he alle othre men surmonteth,

And bar the pris above hem alle.

The king bad that into his halle

At Souper time he schal be broght;

And he cam thanne and lefte it noght,

Withoute compaignie al one:

Was non so semlich of persone,

Of visage and of limes bothe,

If that he hadde what to clothe. 710

At Soupertime natheles

The king amiddes al the pres

Let clepe him up among hem alle,

And bad his Mareschall of halle

To setten him in such degre

That he upon him myhte se.

The king was sone set and served,

And he, which hath his pris deserved

After the kinges oghne word,

Was mad beginne a Middel bord, 720

That bothe king and queene him sihe.

He sat and caste aboute