WHILOM, as olde stories tellen us,
There was a duke that highte Theseus.
Of Athens he was lord and governor,
And in his time such a conqueror
That greater was there none under the sun.
Full many a riche country had he won.
What with his wisdom and his chivalry,
He conquerd all the regne of Feminie,
That whilom was y-cleped Scythia;
And weddede the Queen Hippolyta
And brought her home with him to his country
With muchel glory and great solemnity,
And eke her younge sister Emily,
And thus with victry and with melody
Let I this worthy Duke to Athens ride,
And all his host, in armes him beside.
And certes, if it nere too long to hear,
I would have told you fully the mannere,
How wonnen was the regne of Feminie,
By Theseus, and by his chivalry;
And of the greate battle for the nonce
Betwixt Athenes and the Amazons;
And how assieged was Hippolyta,
The faire hardy queen of Scythia;
And of the feast that was at her wedding
And of the tempest at her homecoming.
But all these things I must as now forbear.
I have, God wot, a large field to ear;
And weake be the oxen in my plough;
The remnant of my tale is long enow.
I will not letten eke none of this rout.
Let every fellow tell his tale about, this company
And let see now who shall the supper win.
There as I left, I will again begin.
