The morwe cam, the nyht is gon, Men comen out and syhe anon Wher that this yonge lord was ded: Ther was an hous withoute red, For noman knew the cause why; Ther was wepinge and ther was cry. 3600 This Maiden, whan that sche it herde, And sih this thing hou it misferde, Anon sche wiste what it mente, And al the cause hou it wente To al the world sche tolde it oute, And preith to hem that were aboute To take of hire the vengance, For sche was cause of thilke chaunce, Why that this kinges Sone is split. Sche takth upon hirself the gilt, 3610 And is al redi to the peine Which eny man hir wole ordeigne: And bot if eny other wolde, Sche seith that sche hirselve scholde Do wreche with hire oghne hond, Thurghout the world in every lond That every lif therof schal speke, Hou sche hirself i scholde wreke. Sche wepth, sche crith, sche swouneth ofte, Sche caste hire yhen up alofte 3620 And seide among ful pitously: “A godd, thou wost wel it am I, For whom Iphis is thus besein: Ordeine so, that men mai sein A thousend wynter after this, Hou such a Maiden dede amis, And as I dede, do to me: For I ne dede no pite To him, which for mi love is lore, Do no pite to me therfore.” 3630 And with this word sche fell to grounde Aswoune, and ther sche lay a stounde. The goddes, whiche hir pleigntes herde And syhe hou wofully sche ferde, Hire lif thei toke awey anon, And schopen hire into a Ston After the forme of hire ymage Of bodi bothe and of visage. And for the merveile of this thing Unto the place cam the king 3640 And ek the queene and manye mo; And whan thei wisten it was so, As I have told it heir above, Hou that Iphis was ded for love, Of that he hadde be refused, Thei hielden alle men excused And wondren upon the vengance. And forto kepe in remembrance, This faire ymage mayden liche With compaignie noble and riche 3650 With torche and gret sollempnite. To Salamyne the Cite Thei lede, and carie forth withal The dede corps, and sein it schal Beside thilke ymage have His sepulture and be begrave: This corps and this ymage thus Into the Cite to Venus, Wher that goddesse hire temple hadde, Togedre bothe tuo thei ladde. 3660 This ilke ymage as for miracle Was set upon an hyh pinacle, That alle men it mihte knowe, And under tht thei maden lowe A tumbe riche for the nones Of marbre and ek of jaspre stones, Wherin this Iphis was beloken, That evermor it schal be spoken. And for men schal the sothe wite, Thei have here epitaphe write, 3670 As thing which scholde abide stable: The lettres graven in a table Of marbre were and seiden this: “Hier lith, which slowh himself, Iphis, For love of Araxarathen: And in ensample of tho wommen, That soffren men to deie so, Hire forme a man mai sen also, Hou it is torned fleissh and bon Into the figure of a Ston: 3680 He was to neysshe and sche to hard. Be war forthi hierafterward; Ye men and wommen bothe tuo, Ensampleth you of that was tho: