The king him wolde so poursuie. Bot he, that wolde his deth eschuie, And knew al this tofor the hond, Forsake he thoghte his oghne lond, 460 That there wolde he noght abyde; For wel he knew that on som syde[1498] [Sidenote: =P. iii. 291=] This tirant of his felonie Be som manere of tricherie To grieve his bodi wol noght leve. [Sidenote: De fuga Appolini per mare[1499] a Regno suo.] Forthi withoute take leve, Als priveliche as evere he myhte,[1500] He goth him to the See be nyhte In Schipes that be whete laden:[1501] Here takel redy tho thei maden 470 And hale up Seil and forth thei fare.[1502] Bot forto tellen of the care That thei of Tyr begonne tho, Whan that thei wiste he was ago, It is a Pite forto hiere. They losten lust, they losten chiere, Thei toke upon hem such penaunce, Ther was no song, ther was no daunce, Bot every merthe and melodie To hem was thanne a maladie; 480 For unlust of that aventure Ther was noman which tok tonsure, In doelful clothes thei hem clothe,[1503] The bathes and the Stwes bothe Thei schetten in be every weie; There was no lif which leste pleie Ne take of eny joie kepe, Bot for here liege lord to wepe; And every wyht seide as he couthe, ‘Helas, the lusti flour of youthe, 490 Our Prince, oure heved, our governour, Thurgh whom we stoden in honour,[1504] [Sidenote: =P. iii. 292=] Withoute the comun assent Thus sodeinliche is fro ous went!’ Such was the clamour of hem alle. [Sidenote: Nota[1505] qualiter Thaliartus Miles, vt Appolinum veneno intoxicaret, ab Antiocho in Tyrum missus, ipso ibidem non inuento Antiochiam rediit.] Bot se we now what is befalle Upon the ferste tale plein, And torne we therto ayein. Antiochus the grete Sire, Which full of rancour and of ire 500 His herte berth, so as ye herde, Of that this Prince of Tyr ansuerde, He hadde a feloun bacheler, Which was his prive consailer, And Taliart be name he hihte:[1506] The king a strong puison him dihte Withinne a buiste and gold therto,[1507] In alle haste and bad him go Strawht unto Tyr, and for no cost Ne spare he, til he hadde lost[1508] 510 The Prince which he wolde spille. And whan the king hath seid his wille, This Taliart in a Galeie[1509] With alle haste he tok his weie: The wynd was good, he saileth blyve, Til he tok lond upon the ryve Of Tyr, and forth with al anon Into the Burgh he gan to gon, And tok his In and bod a throwe. Bot for he wolde noght be knowe, 520 Desguised thanne he goth him oute; He sih the wepinge al aboute,