[...]hou fiers god of armes / mars the rede
That in the frosty contre
called trace
Within thy grysly temple ful of drede
Honourd art as patron of that place
With thy bellona / pallas ful of grace
Be present and my song contynue & gye
At my
begynnyng thus to the I crye
For it ful depe is sonken in my mynde
With pieteꝰ herte in english for tendyte
This olde storye in latyn that I fynde
Of quene anelida & fals arcyte
That elde that all can frete and byte
As it hath freten many anoble storye
Hath nyh
deuoured out of my memorye
Be fauorable eke thou polimia
On pernaso that with thy sustren glade
By elycon / not fer from cirrea
Singest with wis memorial in the shade
Vnder the laurer the whiche may not fade
And do that I my ship to hauen wynue
First folowe I stace and after that corynne
Whan theseus with werres
long & grete
Thaspre folk of cithye /
had ouercome
With laurer crowned ī his chare gold bete
Home to his contre hool is come
For whiche the peple / blisful al and some
So cryeden / that to the sterres it wente
And hym to honouren / dide al thair entēte
Biforn this
duc[?] in signe of victorie
The trompes come /
and in his baner large
The ymage of mars / & in tokenīg of glorie
Men might see of tresour many a charge
Many bright helme & many a spere & targe
Mani a fresh kinght & mani a blisful route
On hors & fote al the felde aboute
Ipolita his wyf / the hardy quene
Of cythia / that he
conquerd
had
With
emelie[?] / her
youg suster shene
Fair in a chare of
gold / he with hym
lad
That al y
e groūd aboute her chare she sprad
With brightnes of the beaute of her face
Fulfillyd with largesse of alle grace
With this tryūphe & laurer crowned thus
In alle the floure of fortunes
yeuyng
Lete I this noble prynce Theseus
Toward atthenes in his way
rydyng
And fonde I wil shortly for to
bryng
The sleyght way of that I gan to write
Of quene anelida /
and false arcyte
Mars that with his furyoꝰ cours of Ire
Tholde wrathe of Iuno to susfylle
Hath sette the peples hertes bothe a fire
Of thebes
aud grece / eche other to kylle
With blody speres / ne
rested neuer stylle
But thrōg / now here / now there amōge botle
Til eueryche other slowhe so were they wrothe
For whan amphiorax
and tideus
Ipomedon
and / parthonope also
Were dede
and slayn
and proud cāpaneꝰ
And whan the
wretched brethern two
Were slayn and kyng adrastus hom y go
So desolate stode thebes /
and so bare
That no wight / couthe remedye of his fare
And whan tholde creon gan espye
How the blode ryal was brought adoun
He helde that cyte by his tyrannye
And dyde the gentyls of that regyoun
To ben his frendes / & women in that toun̄
So what for loue of him / & what for awe
The noble folk were to the toun̄ ydrawe
Among alle these / anelida the quene
Of ermonye / was in that toun̄
dwellyng
That fayrer was / than is the sonne shene
Thurgh the world so gan her name
spryng
That her to seen /
had euery wyght lykyng
For as of trouth / is ther none her lyche
Of alle the women / in the
world ryche
Yonge was this quene / of .xx. yere olde
Of myddel stature / & of suche fayrnes
That nature
had a Ioye / her to byholde
And for to speke of her stedefastnes
She
pussed hath penolope & lucres
And shortly yf she shal be
comprehended
In her myght
nothyng been
amended
This theban knyght eke soth to seyne
Was
yong & ther with al a lusty knyght
But he was double in loue & nothing pleyn̄
And subtyl in that craft ouer ony wight
And withe his cūnyng wan
y
e[?] lady bright
For so ferforth he gan to her trouth ensure
That she hym
trusted ouer ony crature
What
shold I seyn she loued arcyte so
That whan he was absent ony throwe
An̄on her thought her herte brest atwo
For in her
sight[?] to her he bare hym lowe
So that she wend haue al his herte yknowe
But he was fals it was but feyned chere
Al nedeth not to men suche craft te lere
But natheles ful mychel besynes
Had he or he myght his lady wynne
And sware he
wold dye for destres
Or from his witte he
said he wold twynne
Allas the whyle for it was routh & synne
That she vpon his sorowes wold rewe
But nothing thinketh the fals as the trewe
Hye fredam̄ fonde arcyte in suche manere
That al was his that she hath / moche or
lite[?]
Ne to no creature / made she chere
Further / than that it lykyth to arcyte
Ther nas lack / wherwith he myght her wite
She was so ferforth yeuen him to plese
That al that lyketh hym it dede her eese
Ther nas to her / no maner
[...]rē sent
That
touched loue / from ony maner wight
That she ne
shewid it hym / er it was brent
So pleyn she was &
dyd her ful myght
That she nel hiden nothīg from her knyght
Lest he of ony vntrouth her vpbreyde
With oute bode / his heste she obeyde
And eke he made hym Ielouse ouer here
That whan ony man had to her
said
Anon he
wold prayen her to swere
What was y
e word / or make him euel paid
And than wēde she out of her wyt haue brayd
But al this nas but sleyght & flaterye
Without loue he
feyned Ielousye
And all this toke she so debonairly
That al his will it thought her skilful thīg
And euer the lenger she loueth hym tēderly
And dide hym honour / as he were a kyng
Her herte was to hym
wedded with a ring
So ferforth vpon trouthe / is her entente
That where he goth / her herte with hym wēte
Whan she shal ete / on hym is al her thought
That wel vnuethe / of mete toke she
kepe[?]
And whan y
t she was to her reste ybrought
On hym she thought alway / til y
t she slepe
Whan he was absent / pryuely she wold wepe
Thus lyneth fayr
anelyda[?] the quene
For fals arcyte / that
dyd her al this tene
This fals arcyte / of his newfanglenes
For she to hym / so lowly was and trewe
Toke lasse deynte / of her stedfastnes
And sawe another lady proude and newe
And right anon he
clad hym in her hewe
Wote I not whether / in whyte rede or grene
And falshede fair anelīda the quene
But natheles grete wonder was it none
Though he was fals / it is kynde of man̄
Syth lameth was / that is so
long a goon
To be in loue as fals / as euer he can
He was the first fader that began
To louen two /
and was in bygamye
And he
fond tentes first but yf men lye
This fals arcyte / somwhat muste he feyne
Whan he was fals / to couere his trayterye
Ryght as an hors / y
t can both bite & pleyne
For he bar her on
hond / of trecherye
And swore / he couthe her doublenes espye
And al was falsnes that she to hym ment
Thꝰ swore this theef & forth his way he went
Allas what herte / myght enduren it
For routh & woo / her sorow for to telle
Or what man hath y
e connyng or the witte
Or what man myght within y
e chābre duelle
Yf that I reherce
shold the helle
That suffreth fair anelida the quene
For fals arcyte / that dide her al this tene
She wepith. wayleth. sw
[...]wneth pytously
To
ground dede / she falleth as a stone
Crampissheth her lymēs /
[...]ckedly
She spekith as her wit were al agone
Other colour than asshen / hath she none
None other worde speketh she moche or lyte
But mercy cruel herte myn arcyte
And thus endureth til that she was so mate
That she
nad foot on whiche she may sustene
But forth languysshing euer in this astate
On whiche arcyte hath couthe non ne tene
His herte was els where / newe and grene
That on her woo / not deyneth hym to thinke
Hym recketh not / whether she flete or synke
His newe lady holdeth hym so narow
Vp by the brydel / at the staues ende
That euery worde / he
drad as an arowe
Her dan̄ger made hym bothe bowe and bende
And as her liste / made hym turne & wende
For she ne granteth hym in her
lyuyng
No grace / why that he hath lust to
syng
But d
[...]of hym sorth vnnethe
[...]st her knowe
That he was seruant / vnto her ladyship
But leste y
• he were proud she held hym lowe
Thus serueth he / withoute mete or sype
She sent hym now to land & now to shype
And for she gaf hym daunger / al his fyll
Ther fore she had hym / at her owen wyll
Ensample of this ye thryfty women alle
Taketh hede of anelida and arcyte
That for her liste / hym dere herte calle
And was so meke / therfore he loueth her lite
The kynde of man̄s herte / is to delyte
In thing that stran̄ge is / also god me saue
For what he may not gete / that wold he haue
Now torne we to anelida agayn̄
That pyneth day by day languysshyng
But whan she sawe / that her gate no
gayn̄[?]
Vpon a day / ful sorowful wepyng
She cast her
[...]for to make a
compleynyng
And of her owen
hand she gan it wryte
And sende it to her theban knyght arcyte
Here foloweth the compleynt of anelida quene of hermenye vpon false arcyte of Thebes.
So thirleth with the poīt of remembrance
The swerd of sorow / whet with fals plesāce
My hert bare of blisse / & blak of hewe
That torned is / in quakyng / al my daunce
My sewerte in a whaped con̄tenaunce
Syth it auaylleth not to be trewe
For who so trewest is it shal her rewe
That serueth loue / and doth her obseruance
Alway tyl one / and changeth for no newe
I wote my self / as wel as ony wight
For I loued one with al my hert & myght
More than my self / an .C. thousand sythe
And called hym / my hertis lyf / my knyght
And was all his / as fer as it was right
And whan he was glad / than was I blithe
And his disese / was my deth as swithe
And he agayn / his trouth hath me plight
For euermo / his lady me to kythe
Now is he fals / alas /
and causeles
And of my woo / he is so routheles
That with a word / hym list not ones deyne
To brynge agayn / my sorouful herte in pe
[...]
For he is caught vp / in an other lees
Ryght as hym lyst / he laweth at my peyne
And I ne can my herte / not restreyne
For to loue hym / neyther thelees
And of alle this / I note to whom̄ to pleyne
And shal I pleyne / alas the
hard stounde
Vnto my foo / that yaf my herte / a wounde
And yet desireth / that my harme be more
Nay certes / for ther shal neuer be founde
None other helpe / my sores for to sounde
My destyne hath shape it so / ful yore
I wil none other medycyn / ne lore
I wyl be ay / ther I was ones bounde
That I haue
seyd be
seyd for euermore
Allas / where is bicome your gentillesse
Your wordes ful of plesance and humblesse
Your obsernances / and lo lowe manere
Vpon me / that ye
called your maistresse
Your souerayne of thise world is here
Alas /
and is ther now no
word
[...]e chere
Ye wuchen sauf, vpon my heuynesse
Alas / your loue / I bye it al to dere
Now certes swete / though that ye
Thus causeles / the cause be
Of my dedely / aduersite
Your manly reson / ought it to respyte
To sle your frende / & namely me
That neuer yet in no degre
Offendyd / as wysly he
That al wote / oute of wo my soule quyte
But for I was so playn arcyte
In al my werkis / moche & lite
And so besy / you to delite
Myn honour sauf / meke. kynde. and free
Therfore ye put on me this wite
And also ye reken not a myte
Though that the
swerd of sorow bite
My woful herte / thurgh your cruelte
My swete foo / why doo ye so. for shame
And thinke ye / that furtherd be / your name
To loue a newe / and be vntrewe / nay
And put yow / in sklaundre now / & blame
And do to me / aduersyte / and grame
That loue you most / god thou wost / alwaye
Yet come agayn / & be thou playn / som̄ daye
And then shal this / y
e nowe is mis / be game
And all foryeue / whyle I lyue / maye
Lo herte myn / alle this is for to seyn
As whether shal I pray / or ellis pleyn
Whiche is the way / to do you to be trewe
For eyther mote I han you in my cheyn
Or with the deth / ye mote departe vs tweyn
Ther lye none other mene weyes newe
For god so wysly / on my soule rewe
As veryly ye sle me with the peyn
That may ye se
vnfeyned an my hewe
And
shold I praye / and weyuen womāhede
Nay rather dye / than do so cruell dede
And axe mercy causeles / what nede
[Page]And yf I pleyne / what lyf that I lede
Thenne wil ye lawhe I knowe it out of deede
And yf that I to you / myn othes bede
For myn excuse / a skorn shal be my mede
Your chere flourith / but it wil not sede
For longe a goo / I ofte han take hede
For though I had you to morn ageyn
I myght as wel holde apryll for reyn
As holden you / to make you stedfaste
Alle myghty god of trouth souereyn
Wher is y
e trouthe of man who hath it sleyn
Who y
e hym loueth shal hym fynde as faste
As in a tempeste is a roten maste
Is that a tame beest / that is ay fayn
To fle away / whan he is leest agaste
But mercy swete / yf I mys seye
Haue I ought
seyd out of the weye
I note / my witte is half a weye
I fare as doth the songe of chanteplure
For now I pleyne / and now I pleye
I am so
marred that I deye
[Page]Arcyte hath born awey the keye
Of alle my
world
and good auenture
For in this world / nys creature
Wakyng in more discumfiture
Than I / ne more sorow endure
And yf I slepe / a furlong weye or twey
Thenne thinketh me / your fygure
Before me stont /
clothid in azure
To profren eft /
and new assure
For to be trewe / and loue me / til he deye
The longe nyght / this wonder sight / I drye
And on the day / for thilke affray / I dye
And of all this right nought ywis ye recche
Ne neuer mo / myn eyen two / be drye
And to your routhe / & to your trouthe / I crye
But wele awey / fer ben they / to fecche
Thus holdeth we / my destyne / a wrecche
But me to rede / out of this drede / or gye
Ne may my wyt / so weyke is it / not strecche
Thenne I thus / syn I may do no more
[Page]I yeue it vp / for now
and euermore
For shal I neuer / eft putten in balance
My sikernes / or lerne of loue the lore
But as the swan / I haue
herd seye
ful[?] yore
Agayn his deth / shal syngen his penan̄ce
So synge I here / my destyne or chan̄ce
How that arcite / anelida so sore
Hath
thirled with the peynt of remēbrāce
Thus endeth the compleynt of anelida
The ꝯpleīt of chaucer vnto his empty purse
To you my purs / and to none other wight
Compleyne I for ye be my lady dere
I am sory now / that ye be light
For certes / ye now make me heuy chere
Me were as
[...]ef / be
leyd vpon a bere
For whiche / vnto your mercy thus I crye
Be heuy agayn / or ellis mote I dye
Now wuchesauf / this day or yet be nyght
That I of yow / the blisful sowne may here
[Page]Or see your colour like the sonne bright
That of yelownes
had neuer pere
Ye be my lyf / ye be my herte
[...] stere
Quene of confort / and of
good companye
Be heuy agayn / or ellis mote I dye
Now purs that be to me my lyues light
And saueour / as doun in this
world here
Out of this toun helpe me by your might
Syn that ye wil not be my tresorere
For I am
[...]haue / as nyghe as ony frere
But I pray vnto your curtoisye
Be heuy agayn / or ellis mote I dye
The nuoye of chaucer vnto the kynge
O conquerour of brutes albyon
Whiche that by lyne /
and fre election̄
Ben veray kynge / this to yow I sende
And ye that may / alle harmes amende
Haue mynde vpon my supplicacion̄
Explicit.
Whan feyth failleth in prestes sawes
And lordes hestes ar holden for lawes
And robbery is holden purchas
And lechery is holden solas
Than shal the
lond of albyon
Be brought to grete confusion̄
Hit falleth for euery gentilm̄an
To saye the best that he can
In mannes absence
And the soth in his presence
Hit cometh by kynde of gentil blode
To cast away al heuynes
And gadre to gidre wordes
good
The werk of wisedom herith witnes
Et sic est finis