Thi will, mi Sone, is forto blame, The remenant is bot a game, That I have herd the telle as yit. Bot tak this lore into thi wit, That alle thing hath time and stede, The cherche serveth for the bede, The chambre is of an other speche. Bot if thou wistest of the wreche, 7190 Hou Sacrilege it hath aboght, Thou woldest betre ben bethoght; And for thou schalt the more amende, A tale I wole on the despende. To alle men, as who seith, knowe It is, and in the world thurgh blowe, Hou that of Troie Lamedon To Hercules and to Jasoun, Whan toward Colchos out of Grece Be See sailende upon a piece 7200 Of lond of Troie reste preide,— Bot he hem wrathfulli congeide: And for thei founde him so vilein, Whan thei come into Grece ayein, With pouer that thei gete myhte Towardes Troie thei hem dyhte, And ther thei token such vengance, Wherof stant yit the remembrance; For thei destruide king and al, And leften bot the brente wal. 7210 The Grecs of Troiens many slowe And prisoners thei toke ynowe, Among the whiche ther was on, The kinges doughter Lamedon, Esiona, that faire thing, Which unto Thelamon the king Be Hercules and be thassent Of al the hole parlement Was at his wille yove and granted. And thus hath Grece Troie danted, 7220 And hom thei torne in such manere: Bot after this nou schalt thou hiere The cause why this tale I telle, Upon the chances that befelle. King Lamedon, which deide thus, He hadde a Sone, on Priamus, Which was noght thilke time at hom: Bot whan he herde of this, he com, And fond hou the Cite was falle, Which he began anon to walle 7230 And made ther a cite newe, That thei whiche othre londes knewe Tho seiden, that of lym and Ston In al the world so fair was non. And on that o side of the toun The king let maken Ylioun, That hihe Tour, that stronge place, Which was adrad of no manace Of quarel nor of non engin; And thogh men wolde make a Myn, 7240 No mannes craft it mihte aproche, For it was sett upon a roche. The walles of the toun aboute, Hem stod of al the world no doute, And after the proporcion Sex gates weren of the toun Of such a forme, of such entaile, That hem to se was gret mervaile: The diches weren brode and depe, A fewe men it mihte kepe 7250 From al the world, as semeth tho, Bot if the goddes weren fo. Gret presse unto that cite drouh, So that ther was of poeple ynouh, Of Burgeis that therinne duellen; Ther mai no mannes tunge tellen Hou that cite was riche of good.