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For he wolde at the same tyde

Do schape for his wyves mynde,

As he that wol noght ben unkinde. 1560

Solempne was that ilke office,

And riche was the sacrifice,

The feste reali was holde:

And therto was he wel beholde;

For such a wif as he hadde on

In thilke daies was ther non.

Whan this was do, thanne he him thoghte

Upon his doghter, and besoghte

Suche of his lordes as he wolde,

That thei with him to Tharse scholde, 1570

To fette his doghter Taise there:

And thei anon al redy were,

To schip they gon and forth thei wente,

Til thei the havene of Tharse hente.

They londe and faile of that thei seche

Be coverture and sleyhte of speche:

This false man Strangulio,

And Dionise his wif also,

That he the betre trowe myhte,

Thei ladden him to have a sihte 1580

Wher that hir tombe was arraied.

The lasse yit he was mispaied,

And natheles, so as he dorste,

He curseth and seith al the worste

Unto fortune, as to the blinde,

Which can no seker weie finde;

For sche him neweth evere among,

And medleth sorwe with his song.

Bot sithe it mai no betre be,

He thonketh god and forth goth he 1590

Seilende toward Tyr ayein.

Bot sodeinly the wynd and reyn

Begonne upon the See debate,

So that he soffre mot algate

The lawe which Neptune ordeigneth;

Wherof fulofte time he pleigneth,

And hield him wel the more esmaied

Of that he hath tofore assaied.

So that for pure sorwe and care,

Of that he seth his world so fare, 1600

The reste he lefte of his Caban,

That for the conseil of noman

Ayein therinne he nolde come,

Bot hath benethe his place nome,

Wher he wepende al one lay,

Ther as he sih no lyht of day.

And thus tofor the wynd thei dryve,

Til longe and late thei aryve

With gret distresce, as it was sene,

Upon this toun of Mitelene, 1610

Which was a noble cite tho.

And hapneth thilke time so,

The lordes bothe and the comune

The hihe festes of Neptune

Upon the stronde at the rivage,

As it was custumme and usage,

Sollempneliche thei besihe.

Whan thei this strange vessel syhe

Come in, and hath his Seil avaled,

The toun therof hath spoke and taled. 1620

The lord which of the cite was,

Whos name is Athenagoras,

Was there, and seide he wolde se

What Schip it is, and who thei be

That ben therinne: and after sone,

Whan that he sih it was to done,

His barge was for him arraied,

And he goth forth and hath assaied.

He fond the Schip of gret Array,

Bot what thing it amonte may, 1630

He seth thei maden hevy chiere,

Bot wel him thenkth be the manere

That thei be worthi men of blod,

And axeth of hem hou it stod;

And thei him tellen al the cas,

Hou that here lord fordrive was,

And what a sorwe that he made,

Of which ther mai noman him glade.

He preith that he here lord mai se,

Bot thei him tolde it mai noght be, 1640

For he lith in so derk a place,

That ther may no wiht sen his face:

Bot for al that, thogh hem be loth,

He fond the ladre and doun he goth,

And to him spak, bot non ansuere

Ayein of him ne mihte he bere

For oght that he can don or sein;

And thus he goth him up ayein.

Tho was ther spoke in many wise

Amonges hem that weren wise, 1650

Now this, now that, bot ate laste

The wisdom of the toun this caste,

That yonge Taise were asent.

For if ther be amendement

To glade with this woful king,

Sche can so moche of every thing,

That sche schal gladen him anon.

A Messager for hire is gon,

And sche cam with hire Harpe on honde,

And seide hem that sche wolde fonde 1660

Be alle weies that sche can,

To glade with this sory man.

Bot what he was sche wiste noght,

Bot al the Schip hire hath besoght

That sche hire wit on him despende,

In aunter if he myhte amende,

And sein it schal be wel aquit.

Whan sche hath understonden it,

Sche goth hir doun, ther as he lay,

Wher that sche harpeth many a lay 1670

And lich an Angel sang withal;

Bot he nomore than the wal

Tok hiede of eny thing he herde.

And whan sche sih that he so ferde,

Sche falleth with him into wordes,

And telleth him of sondri bordes,

And axeth him demandes strange,

Wherof sche made his herte