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  • Title: Apollonius of Tyre
  • Editors: Tom Bishop, Andrew Forsberg

  • Copyright Tom Bishop and Andrew Forsberg. This text may be freely used for educational, non-profit purposes; for all other uses contact the Editor.
    Author: John Gower
    Editors: Tom Bishop, Andrew Forsberg
    Not Peer Reviewed

    Apollonius of Tyre

    [Qualiter Appolinus in cena recumbens nihil comedit, sed, doloroso vultu, submisso capite, maxime ingemiscebat; qui tandem a filia regis confortatus citheram plectens cunctis audientibus citherando vltra modum complacuit.]
    How Appolinus, lying at dinner, ate nothing, but greatly mourned, with sad face and head bowed; who at length being strengthened by the king's daughter, greatly pleased all his hearers by playing on the lyre.
    The king behield his hevynesse,
    And of his grete gentillesse
    745His doghter, which was fair and good
    And ate bord before him stod,
    As it was thilke time usage,
    He bad to gon on his message
    And fonde forto make him glad.
    750And sche dede as hire fader bad,
    And goth to him the softe pas
    And axeth whenne and what he was,
    And preith he scholde his thoghtes leva.
    He seith, "Ma Dame, be your leve
    755Mi name is hote Appolinus,
    And of mi richesse it is thus,
    Upon the See I have it lore.
    The contre wher as I was bore,
    Wher that my lond is and mi rente,
    760I lefte at Tyr, whan that I wente:
    The worschipe of this worldes aghte,
    Unto the god ther I betaghte."
    And thus togedre as thei tuo speeke,
    The teres runne be his cheeke.
    765The king, which therof tok good kepe,
    Hath gret Pite to sen him wepe,
    And for his doghter sende ayein,
    And preide hir faire and gan to sein
    That sche no lengere wolde drecche,
    770Bot that sche wolde anon forth fecche;
    Hire harpe and don al that sche can
    To glade with that sory man.
    And sche to don hir fader heste
    Hir harpe fette, and in the feste
    775Upon a Chaier which thei fette
    Hirself next to this man sche sette:
    With harpe bothe and ek with mouthe
    To him sche dede al that sche couthe
    To make him chiere, and evere he siketh,
    780And sche him axeth hou him liketh.
    "Ma dame, certes wel," he seide,
    "Bot if ye the mesure pleide
    Which, if you list, I schal you liere,
    It were a glad thing forto hiere."
    785"Ha, lieve sire," tho quod sche,
    "Now tak the harpe and let me se
    Of what mesure that ye mene."
    Tho preith the king, tho preith the queene,
    Forth with the lordes alle arewe,
    790That he som merthe wolde schewe;
    He takth the Harpe and in his wise
    He tempreth, and of such assise
    Singende he harpeth forth withal,
    That as a vois celestial
    795Hem thoghte it souneth in here Ere,
    As thogh that he an Angel were.
    Thei gladen of his melodie,
    Bot most of all the compainie
    The kinges doghter, which it herde,
    800And thoghte ek hou that he ansuerde,
    Whan that he was of hire opposed,
    Withinne hir herte hath wel supposed
    That he is of gret gentilesse.
    Hise dedes ben therof witnesse
    805Forth with the wisdom of his lore;
    It nedeth noght to seche more,
    He myhte noght have such manere,
    Of gentil blod bot if he were.
    Whanne he hath harped al his fille,
    810The kinges heste to fulfille,
    Awey goth dissh, awey goth cuppe,
    Doun goth the bord, the cloth was uppe,
    Thei risen and gon out of halle.