This messager drank sadly ale and wyn,
And stolen were his lettres prively
Out of his box, whyl he sleep as a swyn; 745
And countrefeted was ful subtilly
Another lettre, wroght ful sinfully,
Un-to the king direct of this matere (650)
Fro his constable, as ye shul after here.
[152: T. 5170-5204.]
The lettre spak, ‘the queen delivered was 750
Of so horrible a feendly creature,
That in the castel noon so hardy was
That any whyle dorste ther endure.
The moder was an elf, by aventure
Y-come, by charmes or by sorcerye, 755
And every wight hateth hir companye.’
750. MSS. queene, queen. 755. E. Hn. Cm. Y-comen. 756. E. Hn. _om._
wight; Hl. man.
Wo was this king whan he this lettre had seyn,
But to no wighte he tolde his sorwes sore, (660)
But of his owene honde he wroot ageyn,
‘Welcome the sonde of Crist for evermore 760
To me, that am now lerned in his lore;
Lord, welcome be thy lust and thy plesaunce,
My lust I putte al in thyn ordinaunce!
Kepeth this child, al be it foul or fair,
And eek my wyf, un-to myn hoom-cominge; 765
Crist, whan him list, may sende me an heir
More agreable than this to my lykinge.’
This lettre he seleth, prively wepinge, (670)
Which to the messager was take sone,
And forth he gooth; ther is na more to done. 770
O messager, fulfild of dronkenesse,
Strong is thy breeth, thy limes faltren ay,
And thou biwreyest alle secreenesse.
Thy mind is lorn, thou Ianglest as a Iay,
Thy face is turned in a newe array! 775
Ther dronkenesse regneth in any route,
Ther is no conseil hid, with-outen doute.
O Donegild, I ne have noon English digne (680)
Un-to thy malice and thy tirannye!
And therfor to the feend I thee resigne, 780
Let him endyten of thy traitorye!
Fy, mannish, fy! o nay, by god, I lye,
Fy, _feendly_ spirit, for I dar wel telle,
Though thou heer walke, thy spirit is in helle!
[153: T. 5205-5239.]
This messager comth fro the king agayn, 785
And at the kinges modres court he lighte,
And she was of this messager ful fayn,
And plesed him in al that ever she mighte. (690)
He drank, and wel his girdel underpighte.
He slepeth, and he snoreth in his gyse 790
Al night, un-til the sonne gan aryse.
791. Hl. vn-to; Pt. to; _rest_ til; _but_ vn-til (_as in_ Tyrwhitt)
_seems better_.
Eft were his lettres stolen everichon
And countrefeted lettres in this wyse;
‘The king comandeth his constable anon,
Up peyne of hanging, and on heigh Iuÿse, 795
That he ne sholde suffren in no wyse
Custance in-with his regne for tabyde
Thre dayes and a quarter of a tyde; (700)
795. _So_ E. Hn.; Cm. and heigh; Cp. on a heih; Pt. on an high; Hl. of
an heigh; Ln. or an hihe. 797. regne] E. Reawme.
But in the same ship as he hir fond,
Hir and hir yonge sone, and al hir gere, 800
He sholde putte, and croude hir fro the lond,
And charge hir that she never eft come there.’
O my Custance, wel may thy goost have fere
And sleping in thy dreem been in penance,
When Donegild caste al this ordinance! 805
This messager on morwe, whan he wook,
Un-to the castel halt the nexte wey,
And to the constable he the lettre took; (710)
And whan that he this pitous lettre sey,
Ful ofte he seyde ‘allas!’ and ‘weylawey!’ 810
‘Lord Crist,’ quod he, ‘how may this world endure?
So ful of sinne is many a creature!
O mighty god, if that it be thy wille,
Sith thou art rightful Iuge, how may it be
That thou wolt suffren innocents to spille, 815
And wikked folk regne in prosperitee?
O good Custance, allas! so wo is me
That I mot be thy tormentour, or deye (720)
On shames deeth; ther is noon other weye!’