Theseus; “Have ye so great envý Of mine honoúr, that thus complain and cry? Or who hath you misboden, or offended? Do tellë me, if it may be amended; And why that ye be clad thus all in black?”
The oldest lady of them all then spake, When she had swooned, with a deadly cheer, That it was ruthë for to see or hear. She saidë; “Lord, to whom fortúne hath given Vict’ry, and as a conqueror to liven, Nought grieveth us your glory and your honoúr; But we beseechen mercy and succóur. Have mercy on our woe and our distress; Some drop of pity, through thy gentleness, Upon us wretched women let now fall. For certës, lord, there is none of us all That hath not been a duchess or a queen; Now be we caitives, as it is well seen: Thanked be Fortune, and her falsë wheel, That none estate ensureth to be wele. And certes, lord, t’ abiden your presénce Here in this temple of the goddess Clemence We have been waiting all this fortënight: Now help us, lord, since it lies in thy might.
“I, wretched wight, that weep and wailë thus, Was whilom wife to king Capaneus, That starf at Thebes, cursed be that day: And allë we that be in this array, And maken all this lamentatioún, We losten all our husbands at that town, While that the siegë thereabouten lay. And yet the oldë Creon, well-away! That lord is now of Thebes the city, Fulfilled of ire and of iniquity, He for despite, and for his tyranny, To do the deadë bodies villainy, Of all our lordës, which that been y-slaw, Hath all the bodies on an heap y-draw, And will not suffer them by none assent Neither to be y-buried, nor y-brent, But maketh houndës eat them in despite.” And with that word, withoutë more respite They fallen groff, and cryden piteously; “Have on us wretched women some mercy, And let our sorrow sinken in thine heart.”
This gentle Duke down from his courser start With heartë piteous, when he heard them speak. Him thoughtë that his heart would all to-break, When he saw them so piteous and so mate, That whilom weren of so