Classic Poem

Than forth me led good dame Sapyence
Afore that myghty lordes mageste
Come on she sayd put the in presence
That thou mayst se dame clennes beaute
Ponder in thy mynde by veryte
That so fayre as she was not quene helyn
Quene Ipolyte or yonge Polyxyn

This lady is clene without corrupcyon
And wereth thre crownes for her vyrgynyte
One is for people of perfyt relygyon
An other for maydens kepynge chastyte
The therde for true wedowes as [thou] mayst se
I wyll the now to her fader present
Her for to mary yf she wyll consent

Than sayd dame sapyence o noble emperour
O souerayne lorde and royall potestate
O vyctoryous prynce & famous conquerour
O kynge of loue and seaser of debate
To the no creature may say chekmate
I present the now this vertuous knyght
For to mary clennes your doughter bryght

I thanke you he sayd for your good wyll
But he that to Clennes maryed must be
He must my commaundement fyrste fulfyll
As to scomfyte the dragon with heedes thre
That is a serpent of grete subtylte
Whiche well betokeneth as we do fynde
The worlde the flesshe & the deuyll by kynde

Sapyence sayd I sholde not fayle
To do his commaudement for Clennes sake
As for to sle the dragon in batayle
That lay in a marys in a grete lake
Whiche was moche stynkynge foule & blake
Wysedome bade me be not aferde
For she wolde gyue me a shelde and swerde

And arme me also with fayre armure
To vaynquysshe that dragon so ferse & grete
She sayd it sholde be so good and sure
That I no harme of hym sholde gete
Though he his teth on me had sete
Yet sholde I slee hym for all his myght
By my grete strokes whan I dyd fyght

Fyrst she my legge harneys sette on
And after my plackerd of grete ryches
She armed me her selfe alone
And laced my helmet of her gentylnes
I thanked her for her grete goodnes
And gaue me my swerde and sheld also
Saynge lete vs to the dragon go

This is the armure for the soule
That in his epystole wrote saynt Poule
Good hope thy legge harneys shall be
The habergyn of ryghtwysnes gyrde [with] chastyte
Thy plackarde of besynes [with] brauches of almes dede
Thy shelde of beleue and mekenes for the hede
Thy swerde shall be the to defend
The worde of god the deuyll to bl[ey]nde

Dame sapyence & I dyd take our lycence
Of the kynge of loue in vertue depured
And of his doughter shynynge in excellence
Whiche to me sayd with wordes assured
O vertuous knyght you for me haue dured
In grete wo & payne but thynke you verely
To scomfyt that dragon by wysedome shortly

Than went we forth to that serpent
In merueylous trauayle of sorowe and bale
By that tyme the daye ryght fayre was spent
And phebus his course began to auale
But at the last we came into a dale
Wher we felt the sauer of a dungeon
Of the foule and stynkynge dragon

Nere to that dragon there was a way
That men vsed vpon a fayre hyll
Vnto hyghe heuen so fressh and gay
But that dragon lette theym theyr wyll
And by the way he dyd theym kyll
Bryngynge theym vnto the dungeon
Iclyped the place of grete oblyuyon

I had not be there halfe an houre
But that this dragon me approched
As though that he wolde me deuoure
He so fersly than on me marched
The batayle bytwene vs longe contynued
But he had me ryght sone ouercome
If I had not helpe of dame wysedome

I strake at hym fast with my swerde
And with my shelde dyd me defende
Wysedome bad me not be aferde
But my stroke that for to amende
As fer as my myght weld extende
So by her wordes I plucked vp myn herte
And dyd than vnto the dragon sterte

But he caught me than in his clawes
And so we wrasteled longe to gyder
But he hyld me sharpely in his pawes
Tyll wysedom my feblenesse dyd consyder
Beholde she sayd dame clennes yonder
Than as a syde I cast all my syght
I sawe that lady so pure and bryght

My strength than dobeled an hundred folde
And I from hym brake by vertuous prowes
My herte was warme that afore was colde
With the cõfortable syght of fayre dame clennes
Than I to hym gaue strokes of exces
And with my sharpe swerde cut of anone
Two of his heedes leuynge hym but one

These two heedes by good morall sens
The worlde and the flesshe do sygnyfy
As I in scrypture haue intellygence
The fyrste the worlde that is transytory
Lyeth bytwene man and heuenly glory
Lettynge hym often of his passage
If it of hym can gete auauntage

The seconde is the flesshly desyre
That troubleth a man ryght sore within
Settynge his courage vpon a fyre
Causynge hym to enclyne to dedely syn
His flessh the batayll of hym doth wyn
Often bryngynge hym into dampnacyon
If repentaunce were not his saluacyon

Repentaunce alway requyreth mercy
And penaunce to god is a satisfaccyon
For god desyreth euermore truely
An humble herte full of contrycon
And the worlde desyreth restytucyon
Of goodes that haue be goten wrongfully
To be restored vnto the ryghtfull party

Whan I by wysedom had won the vyctory
Of these two heedes I was ryght glad
His thyrde heed marched ayenst me sharpely
But I my swerd in my hand had
Strykynge at hym with strokes sad
And blode of hym coude I drawe none
For he had nother flesshe ne bone

But at the last I dyd hym vaynquysshe
Dryuynge hym home to his derke regyon
Of infernall payne that shall not fynysshe
For hell is called his propre mancyon
And of all other of his opynyon
That do the preceptes of god forsake
And to deuelyche werkes theym do be take

God by his ryghtwysnes made a lawe
By whiche man for dedely synne is cond?pned
If god his vengeaunce do not withdrawe
In euerlastynge payne he sholde be prysoned
But and man mercy of hym requyred
With penytent hert he sholde it haue
And with his mercy he wyll man saue