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To sing a song that old was sung, From ashes ancient Gower is come; Assuming man’s infirmities, To glad your ear, and please your eyes. It hath been sung at festivals, On ember-eves and holy-ales; And lords and ladies in their lives Have read it for restoratives: The purchase is to make men glorious; Et bonum quo antiquius, eo melius. If you, born in these latter times, When wit’s more ripe, accept my rhymes. And that to hear an old man sing May to your wishes pleasure bring I life would wish, and that I might Waste it for you, like taper-light. This Antioch, then, Antiochus the Great Built up, this city, for his chiefest seat: The fairest in all Syria, I tell you what mine authors say: This king unto him took a fere, Who died and left a female heir, So buxom, blithe, and full of face, As heaven had lent her all his grace; With whom the father liking took, And her to incest did provoke: Bad child; worse father! to entice his own To evil should be done by none: But custom what they did begin Was with long use account no sin. The beauty of this sinful dame Made many princes thither frame, To seek her as a bed-fellow, In marriage-pleasures play-fellow: Which to prevent he made a law, To keep her still, and men in awe, That whoso ask’d her for his wife, His riddle told not, lost his life: So for her many a wight did die, As yon grim looks do testify. What now ensues, to the judgment of your eye I give, my cause who best can justify.
To sing a song that was sung long ago, From the ashes, old Gower has returned; Taking on human weaknesses, To entertain your ears and please your eyes. It has been sung at festivals, On holy days and during special feasts; And lords and ladies in their lives Have read it as a cure for troubles: The aim is to make men famous; "The older something is, the better it is." If you, living in these later times, When wisdom is more refined, accept my verses. And that hearing an old man sing Might bring you joy as you wish I would wish for life, and that I could Spend it all for you, like a candle burning down. This city of Antioch, Antiochus the Great Built as his main seat: The most beautiful city in all of Syria, I tell you what my sources say: This king took a lover, Who died, leaving a daughter, So lively, joyful, and beautiful, That heaven had given her all his grace; With whom the father became infatuated, And tempted her to commit incest: A bad daughter; a worse father! For enticing his own To evil, no one should ever do this: But custom made what they started Be seen as no sin after so much time. The beauty of this sinful woman Made many princes come from far and wide, To court her as a wife, Seeking pleasures of marriage and companionship: To prevent this, he made a law, To keep her safe, and men in fear, That whoever asked for her hand in marriage, Without solving his riddle, would lose his life: So many men died for her, As these grim faces prove. What happens next, you can judge with your own eyes I leave it to you, to decide who best can defend my cause.