Balthazar

His sone, which that highte Balthazar,
That held the realm after his fader day,
He by his fader coude nought be war,
For proud he was of hert and of array;
And eek an ydoláster was he ay.
His high astate assurèd him in pryde;
But fortune cast him doun, and ther he lay,
And sodeynly his realme gan divide.

A fest he made unto his lordes alle
Upon a tyme, and made them blithe be;
And than his officeres gan he calle,
“Go, bringeth forth the vesseles,” quoth he,
“The which my fader in his prosperitee
Out of the temple of Jerusalem byrafte;
And to oure hihe goddis thanke we
Of honours that oure eldres with us lafte!”

His wif, his lordes, and his concubines
Ay dronken, whiles their rioting did last,
Out of this noble vessels sondry wynes.
And on a wal this king his eyen cast,
And saw an hond armless, that wrot ful fast;
For fere of which he quoke and sighèd sore.
This hond, that Balthazar so sore agast,
Wrot, Mene, Tekel, Phares, and no more.

In al the lond magicien was ther non
That coude expounde what this lettre ment.
But Daniel expoundith it anon,
And sayde, “King, God to thy fader sent
Glori and honour, realm, tresor, and rent;
And he was proud, and nothing God ne dredde,
And therfor God gret vengeaunce on him sent,
And him biraft the realme that he hadde.

“He was out cast of mannes compainye,
With asses was his habitacioun,
And ate he hay in wet and eek in drye,
Til that he knew by grace and by resoún
That God of heven hadde dominacioún
Over every realm and every créatúre;
And than hadde God of him compassioun,
And him restored to his realm and his figúre.

“Eke thou that art his sone art proud also,
And knowest al this thing so verrayly,
And art rebél to God and art his of;
Thou dronk eek of his vessel boldely,
Thy wyf eek and thy wenches sinfully
Dronke of the same vessel sondry wynes;
And praisest false goddes cursedly;
Therfore to thee shapen ful grete pain is.

“This hond was sent from God, that on the wal
Wrot, Mene, Tekel, Phares, truste me.
Thy realm is doon, thou weyist nought at al;
Dividid is thy realm, and it shal be
To Meedes and to Perses geven,” quoth he.
And thilke same night, the king was slawe,
And Dárius occupièd his degree,
Though therto neyther had he right nor lawe.

Lordyngs, ensample here-by may ye take,
How that in lordship is no surenesse;
For when fortune wil a man forsake,
She bereth away his realm and his richesse,
And eek his frendes bothe more and lesse.
And what man hath from frendes the fortúne,
Mishap wil make them enemyes, I gesse;
This proverbe is ful sothe and ful comune.

Zenobia

Cenobia, of Pálmire the queene,
As writen Perciens of hir noblesse,
So worthy was in armes and so keene,
That no wight passèd hir in hardynesse,
Nor in lynáge, nor other gentilesse.
Of the kinges blood of Pers she is descendid;
I say not that she hadde most fairnesse,
But of hir shap she might not be amendid.

From hir childhood I fynde that she fledde
Office of wommen, and to woode she wente,
And many a wilde hertes blood she shedde
With arrows brode that she to them sente;
She was so swyft, that she anon them hente.
And when that she was elder, she wolde kille
Leoúns, lepards, and beres al to-rente,
And in hir armes hold them at hir wille.

She dorste wilde bestes dennes seke,
And runnen in the mounteyns al the night,
And slepe under a bussh; and she coude eeke
Wrastille by verray fors and verray might
With eny yong man, were he never so wight.
Ther mighte no thing in hir armes stonde.
She kept hir maydenhed from every wight;
To no man deynèd hir for to be bounde.