Paris unto the queene wente, And hire in bothe hise armes hente With him and with his felaschipe, And forth thei bere hire unto Schipe. Up goth the Seil and forth thei wente, And such a wynd fortune hem sente, Til thei the havene of Troie cauhte; Where out of Schipe anon thei strauhte And gon hem forth toward the toun, The which cam with processioun 7560 Ayein Paris to sen his preie. And every man began to seie To Paris and his felaschipe Al that thei couthen of worschipe; Was non so litel man in Troie, That he ne made merthe and joie Of that Paris hath wonne Heleine. Bot al that merthe is sorwe and peine To Helenus and to Cassaundre; For thei it token schame and sklaundre 7570 And lost of al the comun grace, That Paris out of holi place Be Stelthe hath take a mannes wif, Wherof that he schal lese his lif And many a worthi man therto, And al the Cite be fordo, Which nevere schal be mad ayein. And so it fell, riht as thei sein, The Sacrilege which he wroghte Was cause why the Gregois soughte 7580 Unto the toun and it beleie, And wolden nevere parte aweie, Til what be sleihte and what be strengthe Thei hadde it wonne in brede and lengthe, And brent and slayn that was withinne. Now se, mi Sone, which a sinne Is Sacrilege in holy stede: Be war therfore and bidd thi bede, And do nothing in holy cherche, Bot that thou miht be reson werche. 7590 And ek tak hiede of Achilles, Whan he unto his love ches Polixena, that was also In holi temple of Appollo, Which was the cause why he dyde And al his lust was leyd asyde. And Troilus upon Criseide Also his ferste love leide In holi place, and hou it ferde, As who seith, al the world it herde; 7600 Forsake he was for Diomede, Such was of love his laste mede.