|
O worthy Petro, kyng of Cipre, also, |
| That Alisandre wan by heigh maistrie, |
| 505 | Ful many an hethen wroghtestow ful wo, |
| Of which thyne owene liges hadde envye, |
| And for no thyng but for thy chivalrie |
| They in thy bed han slayn thee by the morwe. |
| Thus kan Fortune hir wheel governe and gye, |
| 510 | And out of joye brynge men to sorwe. |
|
| O noble Peter, Cyprus' lord and king, |
| Which Alexander won by mastery, |
| 505 | To many a heathen ruin did'st thou bring; |
| For this thy lords had so much jealousy, |
| That, for no crime save thy high chivalry, |
| All in thy bed they slew thee on a morrow. |
| And thus does Fortune's wheel turn treacherously |
| 510 | And out of happiness bring men to sorrow. |
|
