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BOOK III. - Geoffrey Chaucer, The Complete Works of Geoffrey Chaucer, vol. 7 (Supplement: Chaucerian and Other Pieces) [1897]

Edition used:

The Complete Works of Geoffrey Chaucer, edited from numerous manuscripts by the Rev. Walter W. Skeat (2nd ed.) (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1899). 7 vols.

Part of: The Complete Works of Geoffrey Chaucer, 7 vols.

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BOOK III.

CHAPTER I.

Book. III: Ch. I.

OF nombre, sayn these clerkes, that it is naturel somme of discrete thinges, as in tellinge oon , two, three , and so forth; but among al nombres,[ ]three is determined for moste certayn . Wherfore in nombre certayn this werk of my besy leudenesse I thinke to ende and parfourme. Ensample by this worlde, in5[ ]three tymes is devyded; of whiche the first is cleped †Deviacion , that is to say, going out of trewe way; and al that tho dyeden, in helle were they punisshed for a man[ne]s sinne, til grace and mercy fette hem thence, and there ended the firste tyme. The seconde tyme lasteth from the comming of merciable grace until the ende10 of transitorie tyme, in whiche is shewed the true way in fordoinge of the badde; and that is y-cleped tyme of Grace. And that thing is not yeven by desert of yeldinge oon benefyt for another, but only through goodnesse of the yever of grace in thilke tyme.15 Who-so can wel understande is shapen to be saved in souled blisse. The thirde tyme shal ginne whan transitorie thinges of worldes han mad their ende; and that shal ben in Joye, glorie, and rest, both body and soule, that wel han deserved in the tyme of Grace. And thus in that heven †togider shul they dwelle perpetuelly,20 without any imaginatyfe yvel in any halve. These tymes are figured by tho three dayes that our god was closed in erthe; and in the thirde aroos , shewing our resurreccion to joye and blisse of tho that it deserven, by his merciable grace. So this leude book , in three maters, accordaunt to tho tymes,25[ ] lightly by a good inseër may ben understonde; as in the firste, Errour of misse-goinge is shewed, with sorowful pyne punisshed, †that cryed after mercy. In the seconde, is Grace in good waye proved, whiche is faylinge without desert , thilke first misse amendinge, in correccion of tho erroures, and even way to bringe,30 with comfort of welfare in-to amendement wexinge. And in the thirde, Joye and blisse graunted to him that wel can deserve it, and hath savour of understandinge in the tyme of grace. Thus in Joye, of my thirde boke, shal the mater be til it ende.

But special cause I have in my herte to make this proces35 of a Margarit-perle , that is so precious a gemme †whyt , clere and litel, of whiche stones or jewel[les] the tonges of us Englissh people tourneth the right names, and clepeth hem ‘Margery-perles ’; thus varieth our speche from many other langages. For trewly Latin, Frenche, and many mo other langages clepeth hem,40 Margery-perles, [by ] the name ‘Margarites,’ or ‘Margarite-perles’; wherfore in that denominacion I wol me acorde to other mens tonges, in that name-cleping. These clerkes that treten of kyndes, and studien out the propertee there of thinges, sayn : the Margarite is a litel whyt perle, throughout holowe and rounde and45 vertuous; and on the see-sydes, in the more Britayne , in muskle-shelles, of the hevenly dewe, the best ben engendred; in whiche by experience ben founde three fayre vertues. Oon is, it yeveth comfort to the feling spirites in bodily persones of reson . Another is good; it is profitable helthe ayenst passions of sorie mens hertes. And the thirde, it is nedeful and noble in staunching of bloode,50 there els to moche wolde out renne . To whiche perle and vertues me list to lyken at this tyme Philosophie, with her three speces, that is, natural, and moral, and resonable; of whiche thinges hereth what sayn these grete clerkes. Philosophie is knowing of devynly and manly thinges joyned with studie of good living;55 and this stant in two thinges, that is, conninge and opinion. Conninge is whan a thing by certayn reson is conceyved. But wrecches and fooles and leude men, many wil conceyve a thing and mayntayne it as for sothe, though reson be in the contrarye; wherfore conninge is a straunger. Opinion is whyl a thing is in60non-certayn , and hid from mens very knowleging and by no parfit reson[ ] fully declared, as thus: if the sonne be so mokel as men wenen, or els if it be more than the erthe. For in sothnesse the certayn quantitè of that planet is unknowen to erthly dwellers; and yet by opinion of some men it is holden for more than midle-erth.65

The first spece of philosophie is naturel; whiche in kyndely thinges †treteth , and sheweth causes of heven, and strength of[ ] kyndely course; as by arsmetrike, geometry, musike, and by astronomye techeth wayes and cours of hevens, of planetes, and of sterres aboute heven and erthe, and other elementes.70

The seconde spece is moral, whiche, in order, of living maners techeth; and by reson proveth vertues of soule moste worthy in[ ] our living ; whiche ben prudence, justice, temperaunce, and strength. Prudence is goodly wisdom in knowing of thinges. Strength voideth al adversitees aliche even. Temperaunce distroyeth75 beestial living with esy bering . And Justice rightfully jugeth; and juging departeth to every wight that is his owne.

The thirde spece turneth in-to reson of understanding; al[ ] thinges to be sayd soth and discussed; and that in two thinges is devyded. Oon is art , another is rethorike; in whiche two al80 lawes of mans reson ben grounded or els maintayned.

And for this book is of Love, and therafter bereth his name, and philosophie and lawe muste here-to acorden by their clergial discripcions, as: philosophie for love of wisdom is declared, lawe for mainteynaunce of pees is holden: and these with love must85 nedes acorden; therfore of hem in this place have I touched. Ordre of homly thinges and honest maner of livinge in vertue, with rightful jugement in causes and profitable administracion in comminaltees of realmes and citees , by evenhed profitably to90 raigne, nat by singuler avauntage ne by privè envy, ne by soleyn purpos in covetise of worship or of goodes, ben disposed in open rule shewed, by love, philosophy, and lawe, and yet love, toforn al other. Wherfore as sustern in unitè they accorden, and oon ende, that is, pees and rest, they causen norisshinge; and in the95 joye maynteynen to endure.

Now than, as I have declared: my book acordeth with discripcion of three thinges; and the Margarit in vertue is lykened to Philosophy, with her three speces. In whiche maters ever twey ben acordaunt with bodily reson , and the thirde with the100 soule. But in conclusion of my boke and of this Margarite-perle in knittinge togider, Lawe by three sondrye maners shal be lykened; that is to saye, lawe, right, and custome, whiche I wol declare. Al that is lawe cometh of goddes ordinaunce, by kyndly worching; and thilke thinges ordayned by mannes wittes arn y-cleped right,105 which is ordayned by many maners and in constitucion written. But custome is a thing that is accepted for right or for lawe, there-as lawe and right faylen; and there is no difference, whether it come of scripture or of reson. Wherfore it sheweth, that lawe is kyndly governaunce; right cometh out of mannes probable110reson ; and custome is of commen usage by length of tyme used; and custome nat writte is usage; and if it be writte, constitucion it is y-written and y-cleped. But lawe of kynde is commen to every nation, as conjunccion of man and woman in love, succession of children in heritance, restitucion of thing115 by strength taken or lent; and this lawe among al other halt the soveraynest gree in worship; whiche lawe began at the beginning of resonable creature; it varied yet never for no chaunging of tyme. Cause, forsothe, in ordayning of lawe was to constrayne mens hardinesse in-to pees , and withdrawing his yvel120 wil, and turning malice in-to goodnesse; and that innocence sikerly, withouten teneful anoye, among shrewes safely might[ ] inhabite by proteccion of safe-conducte, so that the shrewes, harm for harme, by brydle of ferdnesse shulden restrayne. But forsothe, in kyndely lawe, nothing is commended but such as goddes[ ] wil hath confirmed, ne nothing denyed but contrarioustee of125 goddes wil in heven. Eke than al lawes, or custome, or els constitucion by usage or wryting, that contraryen lawe of kynde, utterly ben repugnaunt and adversarie to our goddes wil of heven. Trewly, lawe of kynde for goddes own lusty wil is verily to mayntayne; under whiche lawe (and unworthy ) bothe professe130 and reguler arnobediencer and bounden to this Margarite-perle as by knotte of loves statutes and stablisshment in kynde, whiche that goodly may not be withsetten. Lo! under this bonde am[ ] I constrayned to abyde; and man, under living lawe ruled, by that lawe oweth, after desertes, to ben rewarded by payne or by mede,135 but-if mercy weyve the payne. So than †by part resonfully may be seye , that mercy bothe right and lawe passeth. Th’ entent of al these maters is the lest clere understanding, to weten, at th’ende of this thirde boke; ful knowing, thorow goddes grace, I thinke to make neverthelater. Yet if these thinges han a good140 and a †sleigh inseër, whiche that can souke hony of the harde stone, oyle of the drye rocke, [he ] may lightly fele nobley of mater in my leude imaginacion closed. But for my book shal be of joye (as I sayd), and I [am ] so fer set fro thilke place fro whens gladnesse shulde come; my corde is to short to lete my boket145 ought cacche of that water; and fewe men be abouten my corde to eche, and many in ful purpos ben redy it shorter to make, and to enclose th’ entrè , that my boket of joye nothing shulde cacche , but empty returne, my careful sorowes to encrese: (and if I dye for payne, that were gladnesse at their hertes): good lord, send150 me water in-to the cop of these mountayns, and I shal drinke therof, my thurstes to stanche , and sey, these be comfortable welles; in-to helth of goodnesse of my saviour am I holpen. And yet I saye more, the house of joye to me is nat opened. How dare my sorouful goost than in any mater of gladnesse thinken to155 trete? For ever sobbinges and complayntes be redy refrete in his meditacions , as werbles in manifolde stoundes comming about I not than . And therfore, what maner of joye coude [I ] endyte? But yet at dore shal I knocke, if the key of David wolde the locke 160unshitte , and hebringe me in, whiche that childrens tonges both[ ] openeth and closeth; whos spirit where he †wol wercheth, departing goodly as him lyketh.

Now to goddes laude and reverence, profit of the reders, amendement of maners of the herers, encresing of worship among165 Loves servauntes, releving of my herte in-to grace of my jewel, and fren[d]ship [in] plesance of this perle , I am stered in this making, and for nothing els; and if any good thing to mennes lyking in this scripture be founde, thanketh the maister of grace, whiche that of that good and al other is authour and principal170[ ] doer. And if any thing be insufficient or els mislyking, †wyte that the leudnesse of myne unable conning: for body in disese anoyeth the understanding in soule. A disesely habitacion letteth the wittes [in ] many thinges, and namely in sorowe. The custome never-the-later of Love, †by long tyme of service, in175 termes I thinke to pursue, whiche ben lyvely to yeve understanding in other thinges. But now , to enforme thee of this Margarites goodnesse, I may her not halfe preyse. Wherfore, nat she for my boke , but this book for her, is worthy to be commended, tho my book be leude; right as thinges nat for places, but places180 for thinges, ought to be desyred and praysed.

CHAPTER II.[ ]

Ch. II.

NOW ,’ quod Love, ‘trewly thy wordes I have wel understonde. Certes, me thinketh hem right good; and me wondreth why thou so lightly passest in the lawe.’

‘Sothly,’ quod I, ‘my wit is leude, and I am right blynd , and5 that mater depe. How shulde I than have waded? Lightly might I have drenched, and spilte ther my-selfe.’

Ye ,’ quod she, ‘I shal helpe thee to swimme . For right as lawe punissheth brekers of preceptes and the contrary-doers of the written constitucions , right so ayenward lawe rewardeth and10 yeveth mede to hem that lawe strengthen. By one lawe this rebel is punisshed and this innocent is meded; the shrewe is enprisoned and this rightful is corowned. The same lawe that joyneth by wedlocke without forsaking, the same lawe yeveth lybel of departicion bycause of devorse both demed and declared.’15

[ ] ‘Ye, ye,’ quod I, ‘I fynde in no lawe to mede and rewarde in goodnes the gilty of desertes.’

‘Fole,’ quod she, ‘gilty , converted in your lawe, mikel merit[ ] deserveth. Also Pauly[n] of Rome was crowned, that by him the maynteyners of Pompeus weren knowen and distroyed; and yet20[ ]toforn was this Paulyn cheef of Pompeus counsaile. This lawe in Rome hath yet his name of mesuring, in mede, the bewraying of the conspiracy, ordayned by tho senatours the deth. Julius Cesar is acompted in-to Catons rightwisnesse; for ever in trouth florissheth his name among the knowers of reson . Perdicas was25 crowned in the heritage of Alexander the grete , for tellinge of a prevy hate that king Porrus to Alexander hadde. Wherfore every wight, by reson of lawe, after his rightwysenesse apertely his mede may chalenge; and so thou, that maynteynest lawe of kynde, and therfore disese hast suffred in the lawe, reward is30 worthy to be rewarded and ordayned, and †apertly thy mede might thou chalenge.’

‘Certes,’ quod I, ‘this have I wel lerned; and ever hensforward I shal drawe me therafter, in oonhed of wil to abyde, this lawe bothe maynteyne and kepe; and so hope I best entre in-to35 your grace, wel deservinge in-to worship of a wight, without nedeful compulsion, [that ] ought medefully to be rewarded.’

‘Truly,’ quod Love, ‘that is sothe; and tho[ugh], by constitucion , good service in-to profit and avantage strecche , utterly many men it demen to have more desert of mede than good wil40 nat compelled.’

See now,’ quod I, ‘how †many men holden of this the contrary. And what is good service? Of you wolde I here this question declared.’

‘I shal say thee ,’ quod she, ‘in a fewe wordes:—resonable45 workinges in plesaunce and profit of thy soverayne.’

How shulde I this performe!’ quod I.

‘Right wel,’ quod she; ‘and here me now a litel. It is hardely (quod she) to understande, that right as mater by due overchaunginges foloweth his perfeccion and his forme, right so every50 man, by rightful werkinges, ought to folowe the lefful desyres in his herte , and see toforn to what ende he deserveth. For many tymes he that loketh nat after th’endes, but utterly therof is unknowen, befalleth often many yvels to done, wherthrough, er he55 be war , shamefully he is confounded; th’ende[s] therof neden to be before loked. To every desirer of suche foresight in good service, three thinges specially nedeth to be rulers in his workes. First, that he do good; next, that he do [it ] by eleccion in his owne herte ; and the thirde, that he do godly, withouten any60 surquedry in thoughtes. That your werkes shulden be good, in service or in any other actes, authoritès many may be aleged; neverthelater, by reson thus may it be shewed. Al your werkes be cleped seconde, and moven in vertue of the firste wercher, whiche in good workes wrought you to procede; and right so65 your werkes moven in-to vertue of the laste ende: and right in the first workinge were nat, no man shulde in the seconde werche. Right so, but ye feled to what ende, and seen their goodnes closed, ye shulde no more †recche what ye wrought; but the ginning gan with good, and there shal it cese in the laste ende, if70 it be wel considred. Wherfore the middle, if other-wayes it drawe than accordant to the endes, there stinteth the course of good, and another maner course entreth; and so it is a partie by himselve; and every part [that ] be nat accordant to his al, is foul and ought to be eschewed. Wherfore every thing that is wrought75 and be nat good, is nat accordant to th’endes of his al hole; it is foul, and ought to be withdrawe. Thus the persons that neither don good ne harm shamen foule their making. Wherfore, without working of good actes in good service, may no man ben accepted. Truely, the ilke that han might to do good and doon it nat, the80 crowne of worship shal be take from hem, and with shame shul they be anulled; and so, to make oon werke acordant with his endes, every good servaunt, by reson of consequence, muste do good nedes . Certes, it suffiseth nat alone to do good, but goodly withal folowe; the thanke of goodnesse els in nought he85 deserveth. For right as al your being come from the greetest good, in whom al goodnesse is closed, right so your endes ben directe to the same good. Aristotel determineth that ende and good ben one, and convertible in understanding; and he that in wil doth awey good, and he that loketh nat to th’ende, loketh nat to good; but he that doth good and doth nat goodly , [and ]90 draweth away the direction of th’ende nat goodly, must nedes be badde . Lo! badde is nothing els but absence or negative of good, as derkenesse is absence or negative of light. Than he that dooth [not ] goodly, directeth thilke good in-to th’ende of badde; so muste thing nat good folowe: eke badnesse to suche95 folke ofte foloweth. Thus contrariaunt workers of th’ende that is good ben worthy the contrary of th’ende that is good to have.’

‘How,’ quod I, ‘may any good dede be doon , but-if goodly it helpe?’100

‘Yes,’ quod Love, ‘the devil doth many good dedes, but goodly he leveth be-hynde; for †ever badly and in disceyvable wyse he worketh; wherfore the contrary of th’ende him foloweth. And do he never so many good dedes, bicause goodly is away, his goodnes is nat rekened. Lo! than, tho[ugh] a man do good,105 but he do goodly, th’ende in goodnesse wol nat folowe; and thus in good service both good dede and goodly doon musten joyne togider, and that it be doon with free choise in herte ; and els deserveth he nat the merit in goodnes: that wol I prove. For if thou do any-thing good by chaunce or by happe, in what thing110 art thou therof worthy to be commended? For nothing, by reson of that, turneth in-to thy praysing ne lacking . Lo! thilke thing doon by hap, by thy wil is nat caused; and therby shulde I thanke or lacke deserve? And sithen that fayleth, th’ende which[ ] that wel shulde rewarde, must ned[e]s faile. Clerkes sayn, no man115 but willinge is blessed; a good dede that he hath doon is nat doon of free choice willing; without whiche blissednesse may nat folowe. Ergo, neither thanke of goodnesse ne service [is ] in that [that] is contrary of the good ende. So than, to good service longeth good dede goodly don, thorow free choice in herte .’120

‘Truely,’ quod I, ‘this have I wel understande.’

‘Wel,’ quod she, ‘every thing thus doon sufficiently by lawe, that is cleped justice, [may ] after-reward clayme . For lawe and justice was ordayned in this wyse, suche desertes in goodnesse, 125 after quantitè in doinge, by mede to rewarde; and of necessitè of suche justice, that is to say, rightwysenesse, was free choice in deserving of wel or of yvel graunted to resonable creatures. Every man hath free arbitrement to chose, good or yvel to performe.’

130Now ,’ quod I tho, ‘if I by my good wil deserve this Margaritperle, and am nat therto compelled, and have free choice to do what me lyketh; she is than holden, as me thinketh, to rewarde th’entent of my good wil.’

‘Goddes forbode els,’ quod Love; ‘no wight meneth otherwyse,135 I trowe; free wil of good herte after-mede deserveth.’

‘Hath every man,’ quod I, ‘free choice by necessary maner of wil in every of his doinges that him lyketh, by goddes proper purvyaunce? I wolde see that wel declared to my leude understanding; for “necessary” and “necessitè” ben wordes of mokel140entencion , closing (as to saye) so mote it be nedes, and otherwyse may it nat betyde.’

‘This shalt thou lerne ,’ quod she, ‘so thou take hede in my speche. If it were nat in mannes owne libertè of free wil to do good or bad, but to the one teyed by bonde of goddes preordinaunce,145 than, do he never so wel, it were by nedeful compulcion of thilk bonde, and nat by free choice, wherby nothing he desyreth: and do he never so yvel, it were nat man for to wyte, but onlich to him that suche thing ordayned him to done. Wherfore he ne ought for bad[de] be punisshed, ne for no good150 dede be rewarded; but of necessitè of rightwisnesse was therfore free choice of arbitrement put in mans proper disposicion . Truely, if it were otherwyse, it contraried goddes charitè, that badnesse and goodnesse rewardeth after desert of payne or of mede.’

[ ] ‘Me thinketh this wonder,’ quod I; ‘for god by necessitè155forwot al thinges coming, and so mote it nedes be; and thilke thinges that ben don †by our free choice comen nothing of necessitè but only †by wil. How may this stonde †togider ? And so me thinketh truely, that free choice fully repugneth goddes forweting. Trewly, lady, me semeth, they mowe nat stande160togider .’

CHAPTER III.[ ]

Ch. III.

THAN gan Love nighe me nere, and with a noble countenance of visage and limmes, dressed her nigh my sitting-place.

‘Take forth,’ quod she, ‘thy pen, and redily wryte these wordes. For if god wol, I shal hem so enforme to thee , that thy5 leudnesse which I have understande in that mater shal openly be clered, and thy sight in ful loking therin amended. First, if thou thinke that goddes prescience repugne libertè of arbitrement , it is impossible that they shulde accorde in onheed of sothe to understonding.’10

‘Ye,’ quod I, ‘forsothe; so I it conceyve.’

‘Wel,’ quod she, ‘if thilke impossible were away, the repugnaunce that semeth to be therin were utterly removed.’

‘Shewe me the absence of that impossibilitè,’ quod I.

‘So,’ quod she, ‘I shal. Now I suppose that they mowe15 stande togider: prescience of god, whom foloweth necessitè of thinges comming, and libertè of arbitrement, thorow whiche thou belevest many thinges to be without necessitè.’

‘Bothe these proporcions be sothe,’ quod I, ‘and wel mowe stande togider; wherfore this case as possible I admit.’20

‘Truely,’ quod she, ‘and this case is impossible.’

How so?’ quod I.

‘For herof,’ quod she, ‘foloweth and wexeth another impossible.’

‘Prove me that,’ quod I.25

[ ] ‘That I shal,’ quod she; ‘for somthing is comming without necessitè, and god wot that toforn; for al thing comming he before wot, and that he beforn wot of necessitè is comming, as he beforn wot be the case by necessary maner ; or els, thorow necessitè, is somthing to be without necessitè; and wheder, to30 every wight that hath good understanding, is seen these thinges to be repugnaunt: prescience of god, whiche that foloweth necessitè, and libertè of arbitrement, fro whiche is removed necessitè? For truely, it is necessary that god have forweting of thing withouten any necessitè cominge.’35

‘Ye,’ quod I; ‘but yet remeve ye nat away fro myne understanding the necessitè folowing goddes be foreweting, as thus. God beforn wot me in service of love to be bounden to this Margariteperle, and therfore by necessitè thus to love am I bounde; and40 if I had nat loved, thorow necessitè had I ben kept from al lovededes.’

‘Certes,’ quod Love, ‘bicause this mater is good and necessary to declare, I thinke here-in wel to abyde, and not lightly to passe. Thou shalt not (quod she) say al-only , “god beforn wot me to be45 a lover or no lover,” but thus: “god beforn wot me to be a lover without necessitè.” And so foloweth, whether thou love or not love, every of hem is and shal be. But now thou seest the impossibilitè of the case, and the possibilitè of thilke that thou wendest had been impossible; wherfore the repugnaunce is adnulled.’

50‘Ye,’ quod I; ‘and yet do ye not awaye the strength of necessitè, whan it is said, th[r]ough necessitè it is me in love to abyde, or not to love without necessitè for god beforn wot it. This maner of necessitè forsothe semeth to some men in-to coaccion , that is to sayne, constrayning, or else prohibicion, that is,55 defendinge; wherfore necessitè is me to love of wil. I understande me to be constrayned by some privy strength to the wil of lovinge; and if [I] no[t] love, to be defended from the wil of lovinge: and so thorow necessitè me semeth to love, for I love ; or els not to love, if I not love; wherthrough neither thank ne60 maugrè in tho thinges may I deserve.’

Now ,’ quod she, ‘thou shalt wel understande, that often we sayn thing thorow necessitè to be, that by no strength to be neither is coarted ne constrayned; and through necessitè not to be, that with no defendinge is removed. For we sayn it is65thorow necessitè god to be immortal, nought deedliche; and it is necessitè, god to be rightful; but not that any strength of violent maner constrayneth him to be immortal, or defendeth him to be unrightful; for nothing may make him dedly or unrightful. Right so, if I say, thorow necessitè is thee to be a lover or els70noon; only thorow wil, as god beforn wete. It is nat to understonde that any thing defendeth or forbit thee thy wil, whiche shal nat be; or els constrayneth it to be, whiche shal be. That same thing , forsoth, god before wot, whiche he beforn seeth. Any[ ]thingcommende of only wil, that wil neyther is constrayned ne defended thorow any other thing. And so thorow libertè of75 arbitrement it is do, that is don of wil. And trewly, my good child , if these thinges be wel understonde , I wene that non inconvenient shalt thou fynde betwene goddes forweting and libertè of arbitrement; wherfore I wot wel they may stande togider. Also farthermore, who that understanding of prescience80 properlich considreth, thorow the same wyse that any-thing be afore wist is said, for to be comming it is pronounced; there is nothing toforn wist but thing comming; foreweting is but of trouth[e]; dout[e] may nat be wist; wherfore, whan I sey that god toforn wot any-thing, thorow necessitè is thilke thing to be comming;85 al is oon if I sey, it shal be . But this necessitè neither constrayneth ne defendeth any-thing to be or nat to be. Therfore sothly, if love is put to be, it is said of necessitè to be; or els, for it is put nat to be, it is affirmed nat to be of necessitè; nat for that necessitè constrayneth or defendeth love to be or nat to be. For90 whan I say, if love shal be, of necessitè it shal be, here foloweth necessitè the thing toforn put; it is as moch to say as if it were thus pronounced—“that thing shal be.” Noon other thing signifyeth this necessitè but only thus: that shal be, may nat togider be and nat be. Evenlich also it is soth, love was, and is, and shal95 be, nat of necessitè; and nede is to have be al that was; and nedeful is to be al that is; and comming, to al that shal be. And it is nat the same to saye, love to be passed, and love passed to be passed; or love present to be present, and love to be present; or els love to be comminge, and love comminge to be100 comming. Dyversitè in setting of wordes maketh dyversitè in understandinge; altho[ugh] in the same sentence they accorden of significacion ; right as it is nat al oon , love swete to be swete, and love to be swete. For moch love is bitter and sorouful, er hertes ben esed ; and yet it glad[d]eth thilke sorouful herte on105 suche love to thinke.’

‘Forsothe,’ quod I, ‘outherwhile I have had mokel blisse in herte of love that stoundmele hath me sorily anoyed. And certes, lady, for I see my-self thus knit with this Margarite-perle110 as by bonde of your service and of no libertè of wil, my herte wil now nat acorde this service to love. I can demin in my-selfe non otherwise but thorow necessitè am I constrayned in this service to abyde. But alas! than, if I thorow nedeful compulsioun maugre me be with-holde, litel thank for al my greet traveil have115 I than deserved.’

Now ,’ quod this lady, ‘I saye as I sayde: me lyketh this mater to declare at the ful, and why: for many men have had dyvers fantasyes and resons , both on one syde therof and in the other. Of whiche right sone, I trowe, if thou wolt understonde,120 thou shalt conne yeve the sentence to the partie more probable by reson , and in soth knowing, by that I have of this mater maked an ende.’

‘Certes,’ quod I, ‘of these thinges longe have I had greet lust to be lerned; for yet, I wene, goddes wil and his prescience125 acordeth with my service in lovinge of this precious Margarite-perle.[ ] After whom ever, in my herte, with thursting desyre wete, I do brenne; unwasting, I langour and fade; and the day of my[ ] desteny in dethe or in joye I †onbyde ; but yet in th’ende I am comforted †by my supposaile, in blisse and in joye to determine130 after my desyres.’

‘That thing,’ quoth Love, ‘hastely to thee neigh, god graunt of his grace and mercy! And this shal be my prayer, til thou be lykende in herte at thyne owne wil. But now to enforme thee in this mater (quod this lady) thou wost where I lefte; that was:135 love to be swete, and love swete to be swete, is not al oon for to say. For a tree is nat alway by necessitè white. Somtyme, er it were white, it might have be nat white; and after tyme it is white, it may be nat white. But a white tree evermore nedeful is to be white; for neither toforn ne after it was white, might it140 be togider white and nat white. Also love, by necessitè, is nat present as now in thee ; for er it were present, it might have be that it shulde now nat have be; and yet it may be that it shal nat be present; but thy love present whiche to her, Margarite, thee hath bounde, nedeful is to be present. Trewly, som doing of accion , nat by necessitè, is comminge fer toforn it be; it may be145 that it shal nat be comminge. Thing forsoth comming nedeful is to be comming; for it may nat be that comming shal nat be comming. And right as I have sayd of present and of future tymes, the same sentence in sothnesse is of the preterit, that is to say, tyme passed. For thing passed must nedes be passed; and150 er it were, it might have nat be; wherfore it shulde nat have passed. Right so, whan love comming is said of love that is to come, nedeful is to be that is said; for thing comming never is nat comminge. And so, ofte, the same thing we sayn of the same; as whan we sayn “every man is a man,” or “every lover is a lover,”155 so muste it be nedes. In no waye may he be man and no man togider. And if it be nat by necessitè, that is to say nedeful, al thing comming to be comming, than somthing comming is nat comminge, and that is impossible. Right as these termes “nedeful,” “necessitè,” and “necessary” betoken and signify thing nedes160 to be, and it may nat otherwyse be, right [so] †this terme “impossible” signifyeth, that [a ] thing is nat and by no way may it be. Than, thorow pert necessitè, al thing comming is comming; but that is by necessitè foloweth, with nothing to be constrayned. Lo! whan that “comming” is said of thinge, nat alway thing165thorow necessitè is, altho[ugh] it be comming. For if I say, “tomorowe love is comming in this Margarites herte ,” nat therfore thorow necessitè shal the ilke love be; yet it may be that it shal nat be, altho[ugh] it were comming. Neverthelater, somtyme it is soth that somthing be of necessitè, that is sayd “to come”; as170 if I say, to-morowe †be comminge the rysinge of the sonne . If therfore with necessitè I pronounce comming of thing to come, in this maner love to-morne comminge in thyne Margarite to theeward , by necessitè is comminge; or els the rysing of the sonne to-morne comminge, through necessitè is comminge. Love sothely,175 whiche may nat be of necessitè alone folowinge, thorow necessitè comming it is mad certayn . For “futur” of future is said; that is to sayn, “comming” of comminge is said; as, if to-morowe comming is thorow necessitè, comminge it is. Arysing of the sonne, thorow two necessitès in comming, it is to understande; that oon is to-for[e]going180 necessitè, whiche maketh thing to be; therfore it shal be, for nedeful is that it be. Another is folowing necessitè, whiche nothing constrayneth to be, and so by necessitè it is to come; why? for it is to come. Now than, whan we sayn that god beforn wot185 thing comming, nedeful [it ] is to be comming; yet therfore make we nat in certayn evermore, thing to be thorow necessitè comminge. Sothly, thing comming may nat be nat comming by no way; for it is the same sentence of understanding as if we say thus: if god beforn wot any-thing, nedeful is that to be comming.190 But yet therfore foloweth nat the prescience of God, thing thorow necessitè to be comming: for al-tho[ugh] god toforn wot al thinges comming, yet nat therfore he beforn wot every thing comming thorow necessitè. Some thinges he beforn wot comming of free wil out of resonable creature.’

195‘Certes,’ quod I, ‘these termes “nede” and “necessitè” have a queint maner of understanding; they wolden dullen many mennes wittes.’

‘Therfore,’ quod she, ‘I wol hem openly declare, and more clerely than I have toforn, er I departe hen[ne]s .

CHAPTER IV.[ ]

Ch. IV.

HERE of this mater,’ quod she, ‘thou shalt understande that, right as it is nat nedeful, god to wilne that he wil, no more in many thinges is nat nedeful, a man to wilne that he wol. And ever, right as nedeful is to be, what that god wol,5 right so to be it is nedeful that man wol in tho thinges, whiche that god hath put in-to mannes subjeccion of willinge; as, if a man wol love, that he love; and if he ne wol love, that he love nat; and of suche other thinges in mannes disposicion . For-why, now than that god wol may nat be, whan he wol the wil of man10thorow no necessitè to be constrayned or els defended for to wilne, and he wol th’effect to folowe the wil; than is it nedeful, wil of man to be free , and also to be that he wol. In this maner it is soth, that thorow necessitè is mannes werke in loving, that he wol do altho[ugh] he wol it nat with necessitè.’

15Quod I than, ‘how stant it in love of thilke wil, sithen men loven willing of free choice in herte? Wherfore, if it be thorow necessitè, I praye you, lady, of an answere this question to assoyle.’

‘I wol,’ quod she, ‘answere thee blyvely. Right as men wil not thorow necessitè, right so is not love of wil thorow necessitè;20 ne thorow necessitè wrought thilke same wil. For if he wolde it not with good wil, it shulde nat have been wrought; although that he doth , it is nedeful to be doon . But if a man do sinne, it is nothing els but to †wilne that he shulde nat; right so sinne of wil is not to be [in ] maner necessary don , no more than wil is25 necessarye. Never-the-later, this is sothe; if a man wol sinne, it is necessarye him to sinne, but th[r]ough thilke necessitè nothing is constrayned ne defended in the wil; right so thilke thing that free-wil wol and may , and not may not wilne; and nedeful is that to wilne he may not wilne . But thilke to wilne nedeful is; for30 impossible to him it is oon thing and the same to wilne and not to[ ] wilne. The werke, forsothe, of wil, to whom it is yeve that it be that he hath in wil, and that he wol not, voluntarie †or spontanye it is; for by spontanye wil it is do, that is to saye, with good wil not constrayned: than by wil not constrayned it is constrayned to35 be; and that is it may not †togider be. If this necessitè maketh libertè of wil, whiche that, aforn they weren, they might have ben eschewed and shonned: god than, whiche that knoweth al tr[o]uthe , and nothing but tr[o]uthe , al these thinges, as they arn spontanye or necessarie, †seeth; and as he seeth , so they40 ben. And so with these thinges wel considred, it is open at the ful, that without al maner repugnaunce god beforn wot al maner thinges [that ] ben don by free wil, whiche, aforn they weren, [it ] might have ben [that ] never they shulde be. And yet ben they thorow a maner necessitè from free wil †discended .45

Hereby may (quod she) lightly ben knowe that not al thinges to be, is of necessitè, though god have hem in his prescience. For som thinges to be, is of libertè of wil. And to make thee to have ful knowinge of goddes beforn-weting , here me (quod she) what I shal say.’50

‘Blythly, lady,’ quod I, ‘me list this mater entyrely to understande.’

‘Thou shalt ,’ quod she, ‘understande that in heven is goddes beinge; although he be over al by power, yet there is abydinge of55 devyne persone; in whiche heven is everlastinge presence, withouten any movable tyme. There* is nothing preterit ne passed, there is nothing future ne comming; but al thinges togider in that place ben present everlasting, without any meving. Wherfore, to[ ] god, al thing is as now ; and though a thing be nat, in kyndly60 nature of thinges, as yet, and if it shulde be herafter, yet evermore we shul saye, god it maketh be tyme present, and now ; for no future ne preterit in him may be founde. Wherfore his weting and his before-weting is al oon in understanding. Than, if weting and before-weting of god putteth in necessitè to al thinges whiche65 he wot or before-wot; ne thing, after eternitè or els after any tyme, he wol or doth of libertè, but al of necessitè: whiche thing if thou wene it be ayenst reson , [than is] nat thorow necessitè to be or nat to be, al thing that god wot or before-wot to be or nat to be; and yet nothing defendeth any-thing to be wist or to be70 before-wist of him in our willes or our doinges to be don , or els comminge to be for free arbitrement. Whan thou hast these declaracions wel understande, than shalt thou fynde it resonable at prove, and that many thinges be nat thorow necessitè but thorow libertè of wil, save necessitè of free wil, as I tofore said,75 and, as me thinketh, al utterly declared.’

‘Me thinketh, lady,’ quod I, ‘so I shulde you nat displese , and evermore your reverence to kepe, that these thinges contraryen in any understanding; for ye sayn , somtyme is thorow libertè of wil, and also thorow necessitè. Of this have I yet no savour,80 without better declaracion .’

‘What wonder,’ quod she, ‘is there in these thinges, sithen al day thou shalt see at thyne eye, in many thinges receyven in hemselfe revers, thorow dyvers resons , as thus:—I pray thee (quod she) which thinges ben more revers than “comen” and “gon ”?85 For if I bidde thee “come to me,” and thou come, after, whan I bidde thee “go,” and thou go, thou reversest fro thy first comming.’

‘That is soth,’ quod I.

‘And yet,’ quod she, ‘in thy first alone, by dyvers reson , was ful reversinge to understande.’90

‘As how ?’ quod I.

‘That shal I shewe thee ,’ quod she, ‘by ensample of thinges that have kyndly moving. Is there any-thing that meveth more kyndly than doth the hevens eye, whiche I clepe the sonne?’

‘Sothly,’ quod I, ‘me semeth it is most kyndly to move.’95

[ ] ‘Thou sayest soth,’ quod she. ‘Than, if thou loke to the sonne, in what parte he be under heven, evermore he †hyeth him in moving fro thilke place, and †hyeth meving toward the ilke same place; to thilke place from whiche he goth he †hyeth comminge; and without any ceesinge to that place he neigheth100 from whiche he is chaunged and withdrawe. But now in these thinges, after dyversitè of reson , revers in one thinge may be seye without repugnaunce. Wherfore in the same wyse, without any repugnaunce, by my resons tofore maked, al is oon to beleve, somthing to be thorow necessitè comminge for it is comming, and105 yet with no necessitè constrayned to be comming, but with necessitè that cometh out of free wil, as I have sayd.’

Tho liste me a litel to speke, and gan stinte my penne of my wryting, and sayde in this wyse.

‘Trewly, lady, as me thinketh, I can allege authoritees grete ,110 that contrarien your sayinges . Job saith of mannes person,[ ] “thou hast put his terme, whiche thou might not passe.” Than saye I that no man may shorte ne lengthe the day ordayned of his †dying , altho[ugh] somtyme to us it semeth som man to do a thing of free wil, wherthorow his deeth he henteth.’115

Nay , forsothe,’ quod she, ‘it is nothing ayenst my saying ; for god is not begyled, ne he seeth nothing wheder it shal come of libertè or els of necessitè; yet it is said to be ordayned at god immovable, whiche at man, or it be don , may be chaunged. Suche thing is also that Poule the apostel saith of hem that tofore120[ ] wern purposed to be sayntes, as thus: “whiche that god before wiste and hath predestined conformes of images of his †sone , that he shulde ben the firste begeten, that is to saye, here amonges many brethren ; and whom he hath predestined, hem he hath125 cleped; and whom he hath cleped, hem he hath justifyed; and whom he hath justifyed, hem he hath magnifyed.” This purpos , after whiche they ben cleped sayntes or holy in the everlasting present, wher is neither tyme passed ne tyme comminge, but ever[ ] it is only present, and now as mokel a moment as sevin thousand130 winter; and so ayenward withouten any meving is nothing lich temporel presence for thinge that there is ever present. Yet amonges you men, er it be in your presence, it is movable thorow libertè of arbitrement. And right as in the everlasting present no maner thing was ne shal be, but onlyis; and now here, in135 your temporel tyme, somthing was, and is, and shal be, but movinge stoundes; and in this is no maner repugnaunce: right so, in the everlasting presence, nothing may be chaunged; and, in your temporel tyme, otherwhyle it is proved movable by libertè of wil or it be do, withouten any inconvenience therof to folowe.140[ ] In your temporel tyme is no suche presence as in the tother; for your present is don whan passed and to come ginnen entre; whiche tymes here amonges you everich esily foloweth other. But the presence everlasting dureth in oonhed , withouten any imaginable chaunging, and ever is present and now . Trewly, the145 course of the planettes and overwhelminges of the sonne in dayes and nightes, with a newe ginning of his circute after it is ended, that is to sayn, oon yeer to folowe another: these maken your transitory tymes with chaunginge of lyves and mutacion of people, but right as your temporel presence coveiteth every place, and al150 thinges in every of your tymes be contayned, and as now both seye and wist to goddes very knowinge.’

[ ] ‘Than,’ quod I, ‘me wondreth why Poule spak these wordes by voice of significacion in tyme passed, that god his sayntes before-wist hath predestined, hath cleped, hath justifyed, and155 hath magnifyed. Me thinketh, he shulde have sayd tho wordes in tyme present; and that had ben more accordaunt to the everlasting present than to have spoke in preterit voice of passed understanding.’

‘O,’ quod Love, ‘by these wordes I see wel thou hast litel160 understanding of the everlasting presence, or els of my before spoken wordes; for never a thing of tho thou hast nempned was tofore other or after other; but al at ones evenlich at the god ben, and al togider in the everlasting present be now to understanding. This eternal presence, as I sayd, hath inclose togider in one al tymes, in which close and one al thinges that ben in165 dyvers tymes and in dyvers places temporel, [and ] without posterioritè or prioritè ben closed ther in perpetual now , and maked to dwelle in present sight. But there thou sayest that Poule shulde[ ] have spoke thilke forsaid sentence †by tyme present, and that most shulde have ben acordaunt to the everlasting presence,170 why gabbest thou †in thy wordes? Sothly, I say, Poule moved the wordes by significacion of tyme passed, to shewe fully that thilk wordes were nat put for temporel significacion ; for al [at ] thilk tyme [of] thilke sentencewere nat temporallich born, whiche that Poule pronounced god have tofore knowe, and have cleped, than175 magnifyed. Wherthorow it may wel be knowe that Poule used tho wordes of passed significacion , for nede and lacke of a worde in mannes bodily speche betokeninge the everlasting presence. And therfore, [in ] worde moste semeliche in lykenesse to everlasting presence, he took his sentence; for thinges that here-beforn180 ben passed utterly be immovable, y-lyke to the everlasting presence. As thilke that ben there never mowe not ben present, so thinges of tyme passed ne mowe in no wyse not ben passed; but al thinges in your temporal presence, that passen in a litel while, shullen ben not present. So than in that, it is more185 similitude to the everlasting presence, significacion of tyme passed than of tyme temporal present, and so more in accordaunce. In this maner what thing , of these that ben don thorow free arbitrement, or els as necessary, holy writ pronounceth, after eternitè he speketh; in whiche presence is everlasting sothe and nothing but190 sothe immovable; nat after tyme, in whiche naught alway ben your willes and your actes. And right as, while they be nat, it is nat nedeful hem to be, so ofte it is nat nedeful that somtyme they shulde be.’

‘As how?’ quod I; ‘for yet I must be lerned by some195 ensample.’

‘Of love,’ quod she, ‘wol I now ensample make, sithen I knowe the heed-knotte in that yelke. Lo! somtyme thou wrytest no art , ne art than in no wil to wryte. And right as while thou200 wrytest nat or els wolt nat wryte, it is nat nedeful thee to wryte or els wilne to wryte. And for to make thee knowe utterly that thinges ben otherwise in the everlastinge presence than in temporal tyme, see now , my good child : for somthing is in the everlastinge presence, than in temporal tyme it was nat; in205eterne tyme, in eterne presence shal it nat be. Than no resondefendeth , that somthing ne may be in tyme temporal moving, that in eterne is immovable. Forsothe, it is no more contrary ne revers for to be movable in tyme temporel, and [im]movable in eternitè, than nat to be in any tyme and to be alway in210 eternitè; and to have be or els to come in tyme temporel, and nat have be ne nought comming to be in eternitè. Yet never-the-later. I say nat somthing to be never in tyme temporel, that ever is [in ] eternitè; but al-only in som tyme nat to be. For I saye nat thy love to-morne in no tyme to be, but to-day alone215 I deny it to be; and yet, never-the-later, it is alway in eternitè.’

‘A! so,’ quod I, ‘it semeth to me, that comming thing or els passed here in your temporal tyme to be, in eternitè ever now and present oweth nat to be demed; and yet foloweth nat thilke thing , that was or els shal be, in no maner ther to ben passed220[ ] or els comming; than utterly shul we deny for there without ceesing it is, in his present maner.’

‘O,’ quod she, ‘myne owne disciple, now ginnest thou [be] able to have the name of my servaunt! Thy wit is clered; away is now errour of cloude in unconning; away is blyndnesse of225 love; away is thoughtful study of medling maners. Hastely shalt thou entre in-to the joye of me, that am thyn owne maistres! Thou hast (quod she), in a fewe wordes, wel and clerely concluded mokel of my mater. And right as there is no revers ne contrarioustee in tho thinges, right so, withouten230 any repugnaunce, it is sayd somthing to be movable in tyme temporel, †afore it be, that in eternité dwelleth immovable, nat afore it be or after that it is, but without cessing; for right naught is there after tyme; that same is there everlastinge that temporalliche somtyme nis; and toforn it be, it may not be, as I have sayd.’235

Now sothly,’ quod I, ‘this have I wel understande; so that now me thinketh, that prescience of god and free arbitrement withouten any repugnaunce acorden; and that maketh the strength of eternitè, whiche encloseth by presence during al tymes, and al thinges that ben, han ben, and shul ben in any240 tyme. I wolde now (quod I) a litel understande, sithen that [god ] al thing thus beforn wot, whether thilke wetinge be of tho thinges, or els thilke thinges ben to ben of goddes weting, and so of god nothing is; and if every thing be thorow goddes weting, and therof take his being, than shulde god be maker and auctour245 of badde werkes, and so he shulde not rightfully punisshe yvel doinges of mankynde.’

Quod Love, ‘I shal telle thee , this lesson to lerne. Myne owne trewe servaunt, the noble philosophical poete in Englissh, whiche evermore him besieth and travayleth right sore my name250 to encrese (wherfore al that willen me good owe to do him worship and reverence bothe; trewly, his better ne his pere in scole of my rules coude I never fynde)—he (quod she), in a tretis that he made of my servant Troilus, hath this mater touched, and at the ful this question assoyled. Certaynly, his noble sayinges255 can I not amende; in goodnes of gentil manliche speche, without any maner of nycetè ofstoriers imaginacion, in witte and in good reson of sentence he passeth al other makers. In the boke of Troilus, the answere to thy question mayst thou lerne. Never-the-later, yet may lightly thyne understandinge somdel ben lerned,260 if thou have knowing of these to-fornsaid thinges; with that thou have understanding of two the laste chapiters of this seconde boke, that is to say, good to be somthing, and bad to wante al maner being. For badde is nothing els but absence of good; and [as ] that god in good maketh that good dedes ben good,265 in yvel he maketh that they ben but naught, that they ben bad; for to nothing is badnesse to be [lykned ].’

‘I have,’ quod I tho, ‘ynough knowing therin; me nedeth of other thinges to here, that is to saye, how I shal come to my blisse so long desyred.’270

CHAPTER V.

Ch. V.

‘IN this mater toforn declared,’ quod Love, ‘I have wel shewed, that every man hath free arbitrement of thinges in his power, to do or undo what him lyketh. Out of this grounde[ ] muste come the spire, that by processe of tyme shal in greetnesse5 sprede, to have braunches and blosmes of waxing frute in grace, of whiche the taste and the savour is endelesse blisse, in joye ever to onbyde.’*

Now , trewly, lady, I have my grounde wel understonde; but what thing is thilke spire that in-to a tree shulde wexe?10 Expowne me that thing, what ye therof mene .’

‘That shal I,’ quod she, ‘blithly, and take good hede to the wordes, I thee rede. Continuaunce in thy good service, by longe processe of tyme in ful hope abyding, without any chaunge to wilne in thyne herte, this is the spire. Whiche, if it be wel kept15 and governed, shal so hugely springe, til the fruit of grace is plentuously out-sprongen. For although thy wil be good, yet may not therfore thilk blisse desyred hastely on thee discenden; it must abyde his sesonable tyme. And so, by processe of growing, with thy good traveyle, it shal in-to more and more wexe,20 til it be found so mighty, that windes of yvel speche, ne scornes of envy, make nat the traveyle overthrowe; ne frostes of mistrust, ne hayles of jelousy right litel might have, in harming of suche springes. Every yonge setling lightly with smale stormes is apeyred; but whan it is woxen somdel in gretnesse, than han25grete blastes and †weders but litel might, any disadvantage to them for to werche.’

‘Myne owne soverayne lady,’ quod I, ‘and welth of myne herte , and it were lyking un-to your noble grace therthrough nat to be displesed , I suppose ye erren, now ye maken jelousy, envy,30 and distourbour to hem that ben your servauntes. I have lerned ofte, to-forn this tyme, that in every lovers herte greet plentee of jelousyes greves ben sowe, wherfore (me thinketh) ye ne ought in no maner accompte thilke thing among these other welked wivers and venomous serpentes, as envy, mistrust, and yvel35 speche.’

‘O fole,’ quod she, ‘mistrust with foly, with yvel wil medled, engendreth that welked padde! Truely, if they were distroyed, jelousy undon were for ever; and yet some maner of jelousy, I wot wel, is ever redy in al the hertes of my trewe servauntes, as thus: to be jelous over him-selfe, lest he be cause of his own40disese . This jelousy in ful thought ever shulde be kept, for ferdnesse to lese his love by miskeping, thorow his owne doing in leudnesse, or els thus: lest she, that thou servest so fervently, is beset there her better lyketh, that of al thy good service she compteth nat a cresse. These jelousies in herte for acceptable45 qualitees ben demed; these oughten every trewe lover, by kyndly [maner ], evermore haven in his mynde, til fully the grace and blisse of my service be on him discended at wil. And he that than jelousy caccheth , or els by wening of his owne folisshe wilfulnesse mistrusteth, truely with fantasy of venim he is foule50 begyled. Yvel wil hath grounded thilke mater of sorowe in his leude soule, and yet nat-for-than to every wight shulde me nat truste , ne every wight fully misbeleve; the mene of these thinges †oweth to be used. Sothly, withouten causeful evidence mistrust in jelousy shulde nat be wened in no wyse person commenly;55 suche leude wickednesse shulde me nat fynde. He that is wyse and with yvel wil nat be acomered, can abyde wel his tyme, til grace and blisse of his service folowing have him so mokel esed , as his abydinge toforehande hath him disesed .’

‘Certes, lady,’ quod I tho, ‘of nothing me wondreth, sithen60 thilke blisse so precious is and kyndly good, and wel is and worthy in kynde whan it is medled with love and reson , as ye toforn have declared. Why , anon as hye oon is spronge , why springeth nat the tother? And anon as the oon cometh, why receyveth nat the other? For every thing that is out of his kyndly place, by ful65appetyt ever cometh thiderward kyndely to drawe; and his kyndly being ther-to him constrayneth. And the kyndly stede of this blisse is in suche wil medled to †onbyde , and nedes in that it shulde have his kyndly being. Wherfore me thinketh, anon as that wil to be shewed and kid him profreth, thilke blisse shulde him70 hye, thilk wil to receyve; or els kynde[s] of goodnesse worchen nat in hem as they shulde. Lo, be the sonne never so fer , ever [ ] it hath his kynde werching in erthe. Greet weight on hye on-lofte caried stinteth never til it come to †his resting-place. Waters75 to the see-ward ever ben they drawing. Thing that is light blythly wil nat sinke, but ever ascendeth and upward draweth. Thus kynde in every thing his kyndly cours and his beinge-place sheweth. Wherfore †by kynde, on this good wil, anon as it were spronge, this blisse shulde thereon discende; her kynde[s] wolde,80 they dwelleden togider; and so have ye sayd your-selfe.’

‘Certes,’ quod she, ‘thyne herte sitteth wonder sore, this blisse for to have; thyne herte is sore agreved that it tarieth so longe; and if thou durstest, as me thinketh by thyne wordes, this blisse woldest thou blame. But yet I saye, thilke blisse is kyndly good,85 and his kyndely place [is ] in that wil to †onbyde . Never-the-later, their comming togider, after kyndes ordinaunce, nat sodaynly may betyde; it muste abyde tyme, as kynde yeveth him leve . For if a man, as this wil medled gonne him shewe, and thilke blisse in haste folowed, so lightly comminge shulde lightly cause90 going. Longe tyme of thursting causeth drink to be the more delicious whan it is atasted.’

How is it,’ quod I than, ‘that so many blisses see I al day at myne eye, in the firste moment of a sight, with suche wil accorde? Ye, and yet other-whyle with wil assenteth, singulerly by him-selfe;95 there reson fayleth, traveyle was non ; service had no tyme. This is a queynt maner thing, how suche doing cometh aboute.’

‘O,’ quod she, ‘that is thus. The erthe kyndely, after sesons and tymes of the yere, bringeth forth innumerable herbes and trees, bothe profitable and other; but suche as men might leve100 (though they nought in norisshinge to mannes kynde serven, or els suche as tournen sone unto mennes confusion, in case that therof they ataste), comen forth out of the erthe by their owne kynde, withouten any mannes cure or any businesse in traveyle. And the ilke herbes that to mennes lyvelode necessarily serven,105 without whiche goodly in this lyfe creatures mowen nat enduren, and most ben †norisshinge to mankynde, without greet traveyle, greet tilthe, and longe abydinge-tyme, comen nat out of the erthe, and [y]it with sede toforn ordayned, suche herbes to make springe and forth growe. Right so the parfit blisse, that we have in meninge of during-tyme to abyde, may nat come so lightly, but with greet110 traveyle and right besy tilth; and yet good seed to be sowe; for ofte the croppe fayleth of badde seede, be it never so wel traveyled. And thilke blisse thou spoke of so lightly in comming, trewly, is nat necessary ne abydinge; and but it the better be stamped, and the venomous jeuse out-wrongen, it is lykely to enpoysonen115 al tho that therof tasten. Certes, right bitter ben the herbes that shewen first [in ] the yere of her own kynde. Wel the more is the harvest that yeldeth many graynes, tho longe and sore it hath ben traveyled. What woldest thou demen if a man wold yeve three quarters of nobles of golde? That were a precious gift?’120

‘Ye, certes,’ quod I.

‘And what,’ quod she, ‘three quarters ful of perles ?’

‘Certes,’ quod I, ‘that were a riche gift .’

‘And what,’ quod she, ‘of as mokel azure?’

Quod I, ‘a precious gift at ful.’125

‘Were not,’ quod she, ‘a noble gift of al these atones?’

‘In good faith,’ quod I, ‘for wanting of Englissh naming of so noble a worde, I can not, for preciousnesse, yeve it a name.’

‘Rightfully,’ quod she, ‘hast thou demed; and yet love, knit in vertue, passeth al the gold in this erthe. Good wil, accordant130 to reson , with no maner propertè may be countrevayled. Al the azure in the worlde is nat to accompte in respect of reson . Love that with good wil and reson accordeth, with non erthly riches may nat ben amended. This yeft hast thou yeven, I know it my-selfe, and thy Margarite thilke gift hath receyved; in whiche135 thinge to rewarde she hath her-selfe bounde. But thy gift , as I said, by no maner riches may be amended; wherfore, with thinge that may nat be amended, thou shalt of thy Margarites rightwisenesse be rewarded. Right suffred yet never but every good dede somtyme to be yolde. Al wolde thy Margarite with140 no rewarde thee quyte, right, that never-more dyeth, thy mede in merit wol purvey. Certes, such sodayn blisse as thou first nempnest, right wil hem rewarde as thee wel is worthy; and though at thyn eye it semeth, the reward the desert to passe, right can after sende suche bitternesse, evenly it to rewarde. So145 that sodayn blisse, by al wayes of reson , in gret goodnesse may not ben acompted; but blisse long, both long it abydeth, and endlesse it wol laste. See why thy wil is endelesse. For if thou lovedest ever, thy wil is ever ther t’abyde and neveremore to150 chaunge; evenhed of rewarde must ben don by right; than muste nedes thy grace and this blisse [ben ] endelesse in joye to †onbyde . Evenliche disese asketh evenliche joye , whiche hastely thou shalt have.’

‘A!’ quod I, ‘it suffyseth not than alone good wil, be it never155 so wel with reson medled, but-if it be in good service longe travayled. And so through service shul men come to the joye; and this, me thinketh, shulde be the wexing tree , of which ye first meved.*

CHAPTER VI.

Ch. VI.

NOW , lady,’ quod I, ‘that tree to sette, fayn wolde I lerne.’

‘So thou shalt,’ quod she, ‘er thou depart hence. The first thing, thou muste sette thy werke on grounde siker and good,[ ] accordaunt to thy springes. For if thou desyre grapes, thou5 goest not to the hasel; ne, for to fecchen roses, thou sekest not on okes; and if thou shalt have hony-soukels, thou levest the frute of the soure docke. Wherfore, if thou desyre this blisse in parfit joye , thou must sette thy purpos there vertue foloweth, and not to loke after the bodily goodes; as I sayd whan thou were10 wryting in thy secondeboke . And for thou hast set thy-selfe in so noble a place, and utterly lowed in thyn herte the misgoing of thy first purpos , this †setling is the esier to springe, and the more lighter thy soule in grace to be lissed. And trewly thy desyr , that is to say, thy wil algates mot ben stedfast in this mater without15 any chaunginge; for if it be stedfast, no man may it voyde.’

‘Yes, pardè,’ quod I, ‘my wil may ben turned by frendes, and[ ]disese of manace and thretning in lesinge of my lyfe and of my limmes, and in many other wyse that now cometh not to mynde. And also it mot ofte ben out of thought; for no remembraunce20 may holde oon thing continuelly in herte, be it never so lusty desyred.’

Now see ,’ quod she, ‘thou thy wil shal folowe, thy free wil to be grounded continuelly to abyde. It is thy free wil, that thou lovest and hast loved, and yet shal loven this Margaryte-perle; and in thy wil thou thinkest to holde it. Than is thy wil knit25 in love, not to chaunge for no newe lust besyde; this wil techeth thyn herte from al maner varying . But than, although thou be thretened in dethe or els in otherwyse, yet is it in thyn arbitrement to chose, thy love to voyde or els to holde; and thilke arbitrement is in a maner a jugement bytwene desyr and thy30 herte. And if thou deme to love thy good wil fayleth, than art thou worthy no blisse that good wil shulde deserve; and if thou chose continuaunce in thy good service, than thy good wil abydeth; nedes, blisse folowing of thy good wil must come by strength of thilke jugement; for thy first wil, that taught thyn35 herte to abyde, and halt it from th’eschaunge, with thy reson is accorded. Trewly, this maner of wil thus shal abyde; impossible it were to turne, if thy herte be trewe; and if every man diligently the meninges of his wil consider, he shal wel understande that good wil, knit with reson , but in a false herte40 never is voyded; for power and might of keping this good wil is thorow libertè of arbitrement in herte , but good wil to kepe may not fayle. Eke than if it fayle, it sheweth it-selfe that good wil in keping is not there. And thus false wil, that putteth out the good, anon constrayneth the herte to accorde in lovinge of45 thy good wil; and this accordaunce bitwene false wil and thyn herte, in falsitè ben lykened †togider . Yet a litel wol I say thee in good wil, thy good willes to rayse and strengthe. Tak hede to me (quod she) how thy willes thou shalt understande. Right as ye han in your body dyvers membres, and fyve sondrye50 wittes, everiche apart to his owne doing, whiche thinges as instrumentes ye usen; as, your handes apart to handle; feet , to go; tonge, to speke; eye, to see : right so the soule hath in him certayne steringes and strengthes, whiche he useth as instrumentes to his certayne doinges. Reson is in the soule,55 which he useth, thinges to knowe and to prove; and wil, whiche he useth to wilne; and yet is neyther wil ne reson al the soule; but everich of hem is a thing by him-selfe in the soule. And right as everich hath thus singuler instrumentes by hemselfe,60 they han as wel dyvers aptes and dyvers maner usinges; and thilke aptes mowen in wil ben cleped affeccions. Affeccion is an instrument of willinge in his apetytes. Wherfore mokel folk sayn, if a resonable creatures soule any thing fervently wilneth, affectuously he wilneth; and thus may wil, by terme of equivocas ,65 in three wayes ben understande. Oon is instrument of willing; another is affection of this instrument; and the third is use, that setteth it a-werke. Instrument of willing is thilke strength of the[ ] soule, which that constrayneth to wilne, right as reson is instrument of resons, which ye usen whan ye loken. Affeccion of this70 instrument is a thing, by whiche ye be drawe desyrously anything to wilne in coveitous maner, al be it for the tyme out of your mynde; as, if it come in your thought thilke thing to[ ] remembre, anon ye ben willing thilke to done or els to have. And thus is instrument wil; and affeccion is wil also, to wilne75thing as I said; as, for to wilne helth, whan wil nothing theron thinketh; for anon as it cometh to memorie, it is in wil. And so[ ] is affeccion to wilne slepe, whan it is out of mynde; but anon as it is remembred, wil wilneth slepe, whan his tyme cometh of the doinge. For affeccion of wil never accordeth to sicknesse,80 ne alway to wake. Right so, in a true lovers affeccion of willing, instrument is to wilne tr[o]uthe in his service; and this affeccion alway abydeth, although he be sleping or thretned, or els not theron thinking; but anon as it cometh to mynde, anon he is stedfast in that wil to abyde. Use of this instrument forsothe85 is another thing by himselfe; and that have ye not but whan ye be doing in willed thing, by affect or instrument of wil purposed or desyred; and this maner of usage in my service wysely nedeth to be ruled from wayters with envy closed, from spekers ful of jangeling wordes, from proude folk and hautayn,90that lambes and innocentes bothe scornen and dispysen. Thus in doing varieth the actes of willinge everich from other, and yet ben they cleped “wil,” and the name of wil utterly owen they to have; as instrument of wil is wil, whan ye turne in-to purpos of any thing to don, be it to sitte or to stande, or any such thing95 els. This instrument may ben had, although affect and usage be left out of doing; right as ye have sight and reson, and yet alway use ye* †nat to loke, [ne ] thinges with resonning to prove; and so is instrument of wil, wil; and yet varyeth he from effect and using bothe. Affeccion of wil also for wil is cleped, but it varyeth from instrument in this maner wyse, by that nameliche , whan it100 cometh in-to mynde, anon-right it is in willinge desyred, and the negatif therof with willing nil not acorde; this is closed in herte, though usage and instrument slepe. This slepeth whan instrument[ ] and us[e] waken; and of suche maner affeccion , trewly, some man hath more and some man lesse. Certes, trewe lovers105 wenen ever therof to litel to have. False lovers in litel wenen have right mokel. Lo, instrument of wil in false and trewe bothe, evenliche is proporcioned; but affeccion is more in some places than in some, bycause of the goodnesse that foloweth, and that I thinke hereafter to declare. Use of this instrument is wil,110 but it taketh his name whan wilned thing is in doing; but utterly grace to cacche in thy blisse †desyreth to ben rewarded. Thou most have than affeccion of wil at the ful, and use whan his tyme asketh wysely to ben governed. Sothly, my disciple, without fervent affeccion of wil may no man ben saved. This115 affeccion of good service in good love may not ben grounded, without fervent desyr to the thing in wil coveited. But he that never reccheth to have or not to have, affeccion of wil in that hath no resting-place. Why? For whan thing cometh to mynde, and it be not taken in hede to comin or not come, therfore in120 that place affeccion fayleth; and, for thilke affeccion is so litel, thorow whiche in goodnesse he shulde come to his grace, the litelnesse wil it not suffre to avayle by no way in-to his helpes. Certes, grace and reson thilke affeccion foloweth. This affeccion, with resonknit , dureth in everiche trewe herte, and evermore125 is encresing ; no ferdnesse, no strength may it remove, whyle tr[o]uthe in herte abydeth. Sothly, whan falsheed ginneth entre, tr[o]uthe draweth away grace and joye bothe ; but than thilke falsheed, that trouth[e] hath thus voyded, hath unknit the bond of understanding reson bytwene wil and the herte. And who-so130 that bond undoth , and unknitteth wil to be in other purpose than to the first accorde, knitteth him with contrarye of reson ; and that is unreson . Lo, than, wil and unreson bringeth a man from the blisse of grace; whiche thing, of pure kynde, every man135 ought to shonne and to eschewe, and to the knot of wil and reson confirme.

Me thinketh,’ quod she, ‘by thy studient lokes, thou wenest in these wordes me to contrarien from other sayinges here-toforn in other place, as whan thou were somtyme in affeccion of wil to140thinges that now han brought thee in disese , which I have thee consayled to voyde, and thyn herte discover; and there I made thy wil to ben chaunged, whiche now thou wenest I argue to with[h]olde and to kepe! Shortly I say, the revers in these wordes may not ben founde; for though dronkennesse be forboden,145 men shul not alway ben drinklesse. I trowe right, for thou thy wil out of reson shulde not tourne, thy wil in one reson[ ] shulde not †onbyde . I say, thy wil in thy first purpos with unreson was closed; constrewe forth of the remenant what thee good lyketh. Trewly, that wil and reson shulde be knit togider,150 was free wil of reson; after tyme thyne herte is assentaunt to them bothe, thou might not chaunge. But if thou from rule of reson varye, in whiche variaunce to come to thilke blisse desyred, contrariously thou werchest; and nothing may knowe wil and reson but love alone. Than if thou voide love, than †weyvest [thou]155 the bond that knitteth; and so nedes, or els right lightly, that other gon a-sondre; wherfore thou seest apertly that love holdeth this knot, and amaystreth hem to be bounde. These thinges, as a ring in circuit of wrethe, ben knit in thy soule without departing.’

‘A! let be! let be!’ quod I; ‘it nedeth not of this no160 rehersayle to make; my soule is yet in parfit blisse, in thinking of that knotte!’*

CHAPTER VII.

Ch. VII.

‘VERY trouth,’ quod she, ‘hast thou now conceyved of these thinges in thyne herte ; hastely shalt thou be able very joye and parfit blisse to receyve; and now , I wot wel, thou desyrest to knowe the maner of braunches that out of the tree5 shulde springe .’

‘Therof, lady,’ quod I, ‘hertely I you pray; for than leve I †wel , that right sone after I shal ataste of the frute that I so long have desyred.’

‘Thou hast herd ,’ quod she, ‘in what wyse this tree toforn this have I declared, as in grounde and in stocke of wexing. First,10[ ] the ground shulde be thy free wil , ful in thyne herte ; and the stocke (as I sayde) shulde be continuaunce in good service by long tyme in traveyle, til it were in greetnesse right wel woxen. And whan this tree suche greetnesse hath caught as I have rehersed, the braunches than, that the frute shulde forth-bringe,15 speche must they be nedes, in voice of prayer in complayning wyse used.’

‘Out! alas!’ quod I tho, ‘he is soroufully wounded that hydeth his speche, and spareth his complayntes to make! What shal I speke the care? But payne, even lyk to helle , sore hath20 me assayled, and so ferforth in payne me thronge, that I leve my tree is seer, and never shal it frute forth bringe ! Certes, he is greetly esed , that dare his prevy mone discover to a true felowe, that conning hath and might, wherthrough his pleint in any thinge may ben amended. And mokel more is he joyed, that with herte25 of hardinesse dare complayne to his lady what cares that he suffreth, by hope of mercy with grace to be avaunced. Truely I saye for me, sithe I cam this Margarit to serve, durst I never me discover of no maner disese ; and wel the later hath myn herte hardyed suche thinges to done, for the grete bountees and worthy30 refresshmentes that she of her grace goodly, without any desert on my halve, ofte hath me rekened. And nere her goodnesse the more with grace and with mercy medled, which passen al desertes, traveyls, and servinges that I in any degre might endite, I wolde wene I shulde be without recover, in getting of this blisse for35 ever! Thus have I stilled my disese ; thus have I covered my care; that I brenne in sorouful anoy, as gledes and coles wasten[ ] a fyr under deed asshen. Wel the hoter is the fyr that with asshen it is overleyn. Right longe this wo have I suffred.’

‘Lo,’ quod Love, ‘how thou farest! Me thinketh, the palasy-yvel40 hath acomered thy wittes; as faste as thou hyest forward , anon sodaynly backward thou movest! Shal nat yet al thy leudnesse out of thy braynes? Dul ben thy skilful understandinges; thy wil hath thy wit so amaistred. Wost thou nat wel (quod she)45 but every tree, in his sesonable tyme of burjoninge, shewe his blomes from within, in signe of what frute shulde out of him springe , els the frute for that yere men halt delivered, be the ground never so good? And though the stocke be mighty at the ful, and the braunches seer, and no burjons shewe, farwel the50 gardiner! He may pype with an yvè-lefe; his frute is fayled. Wherfore thy braunches must burjonen in presence of thy lady, if thou desyre any frute of thy ladies grace. But beware of thy lyfe, that thou nowode lay use, as in asking of thinges that strecchen in-to shame! For than might thou nat spede, by no maner way55 that I can espy. Vertue wol nat suffre villany out of him-selfe to springe . Thy wordes may nat be queynt, ne of subtel maner understandinge. Freel-witted people supposen in suche poesies to be begyled; in open understandinge must every word be used. “Voice without clere understanding of sentence,” saith Aristotel ,60 “right nought printeth in herte .” Thy wordes than to abyde in herte , and clene in ful sentence of trewe mening, platly must thou shewe; and ever be obedient, her hestes and her wils to performe; and be thou set in suche a wit, to wete by a loke ever-more what she meneth . And he that list nat to speke, but65 stilly his disese suffer, what wonder is it, tho[ugh] he come never to his blisse? Who that traveyleth unwist, and coveyteth thing unknowe, unweting he shal be quyted, and with unknowe thing rewarded.’

[ ] ‘Good lady,’ quod I than, ‘it hath ofte be sene, that †weders70 and stormes so hugely have falle in burjoning-tyme, and by perte duresse han beten of the springes so clene, wherthrough the frute of thilke yere hath fayled. It is a greet grace, whan burjons han good †weders , their frutes forth to bringe. Alas! than, after suche stormes, how hard is it to avoyde, til efte wedring and75 yeres han maked her circute cours al about, er any frute be able to be tasted! He is shent for shame, that foule is rebuked of his speche. He that is in fyre brenning sore smarteth for disese ; him thinketh ful long er the water come, that shulde the fyr quenche. While men gon after a leche, the body is buryed.80 Lo! how semely this frute wexeth! Me thinketh, that of tho frutes may no man ataste, for pure bitternesse in savour . In this wyse bothe frute and the tree wasten away togider, though mokel besy occupacion have be spent , to bringe it so ferforth that it was able to springe . A lyte speche hath maked that al this labour is in ydel.’85

‘I not,’ quod she, ‘wherof it serveth, thy question to assoyle. Me thinketh thee now duller in wittes than whan I with thee first mette. Although a man be leude, commenly for a fole he is nat demed but-if he no good wol lerne. Sottes and foles lete lightly out of mynde the good that men techeth hem. I sayd therfore,90 thy stocke must be stronge, and in greetnesse wel herted: the tree is ful feble that at the firste dent falleth. And although frute fayleth oon yere or two, yet shal suche a seson come oon tyme or other, that shal bringe out frute that [is parfit ]. * Fole, have I not seyd toforn this, as tyme hurteth, right so ayenward tyme heleth95 and rewardeth; and a tree oft fayled is holde more in deyntee whan it frute forth bringeth. A marchaunt that for ones lesinge in the see no more to aventure thinketh, he shal never with aventure come to richesse. So ofte must men on the oke smyte, til the happy dent have entred, whiche with the okes owne swaye100 maketh it to come al at ones. So ofte falleth the lethy water on the harde rocke, til it have thorow persed it. The even draught of the wyr-drawer maketh the wyr to ben even and supple-werchinge; and if he stinted in his draught, the wyrbreketh a-sonder. Every tree wel springeth, whan it is wel grounded and105 not often removed.’

‘What shal this frute be,’ quod I, ‘now it ginneth rype?’

‘Grace,’ quod she, ‘in parfit joy to endure; and therwith thou begon[ne] .’

‘Grace?’ quod I; ‘me thinketh, I shulde have a reward for my110 longe travayle?’

‘I shal telle thee ,’ quod she; ‘retribucion of thy good willes to have of thy Margarite-perle, it bereth not the name of mede, but only of good grace; and that cometh not of thy desert , but of thy Margarytes goodnesse and vertue alone.’115

Quod I, ‘shulde al my longe travayle have no reward but thorow[ ] grace? And som-tyme your-selven sayd, rightwisnesse evenliche rewardeth, to quyte oon benefit for another.’

‘That is sothe,’ quod Love, ‘ever as I sayde, as to him that120doth good, which to done he were neyther holden ne yet constrayned.’

‘That is sothe,’ quod I.

[ ] ‘Trewly,’ quod she, ‘al that ever thou doest to thyne Margaryteperle, of wil, of love, and of reson thou owest to done it; it is125 nothing els but yelding of thy dette in quytinge of thy grace, which she thee lente whan ye first mette.’

‘I wene,’ quod I, ‘right litel grace to me she delivered. Certes, it was harde grace; it hath nyghe me astrangled.’

‘That it was good grace, I wot wel thou wilt it graunte , er130 thou departe hence. If any man yeve to another wight, to whom that he ought not, and whiche that of him-selfe nothing may have, a garnement or a cote, though he were the cote or els thilke clothing, it is not to putte to him that was naked the cause of his clothinge, but only to him that was yever of the garnement.135 Wherfore I saye, thou that were naked of love, and of thy-selfe non have mightest, it is not to putte to thyne owne persone, sithen thy love cam thorow thy Margaryte-perle. Ergo, she was yever of the love, although thou it use; and there lente she thee grace, thy service to beginne. She is worthy the thank of this140 grace, for she was the yever. Al the thoughtes, besy doinges, and plesaunce in thy might and in thy wordes that thou canst devyse, ben but right litel in quytinge of thy dette; had she not ben, suche thing hadde not ben studyed. So al these maters kyndly drawen hom-ward to this Margaryte-perle, for from thence145 were they borowed; al ishoolly her to wyte, the love that thou havest; and thus quytest thou thy dette, in that thou stedfastly servest. And kepe wel that love, I thee rede, that of her thou hast borowed, and use it in her service thy dette to quyte; and than art thou able right sone to have grace; wherfore after mede150 in none halve mayst thou loke. Thus thy ginning and ending is but grace aloon ; and in thy good deserving thy dette thou aquytest; without grace is nothing worth , what-so-ever thou werche. Thanke thy Margaryte of her grete grace that †hidertothee hath gyded, and praye her of continuaunce forth in thy werkes herafter; and that, for no mishappe, thy grace overthwartly155 tourne. Grace, glorie, and joye is coming thorow good folkes desertes; and by getting of grace, therin shullen ende. And what is more glorie or more joye than wysdom and love in parfit charitè, whiche god hath graunted to al tho that wel †conne deserve?’ And with that this lady al at ones sterte in-to160 my herte : ‘here wol I onbyde,’ quod she, ‘for ever, and never wol I gon hence; and I wol kepe thee from medlinge while me liste here onbyde; thyne entermeting maners in-to stedfastnesse shullen be chaunged.’

CHAPTER VIII.

Ch. VIII.

SOBERLICHE tho threw I up myn eyen, and hugely tho was I astonyed of this sodayne adventure; and fayn wolde I have lerned, how vertues shulden ben knowen; in whiche thinges, I hope to god, here-after she shal me enfourmen; and namely, sithen her restinge-place is now so nygh at my wil; and anon al5 these thinges that this lady said, I remembred me by my-selfe, and[ ] revolved the †lynes of myne understondinge wittes. Tho found I fully al these maters parfitly there written, how mis-rule by fayned love bothe realmes and citees hath governed a greet throwe; how lightly me might the fautes espye; how rules in love10 shulde ben used; how somtyme with fayned love foule I was begyled; how I shulde love have knowe; and how I shal in love with my service procede. Also furthermore I found , of perdurable letters wonderly there graven, these maters whiche I shal nempne. Certes, non age ne other thing in erthe may the leest sillable of15 this in no poynte deface, but clerely as the sonne in myne understandinge soule they shynen. This may never out of my mynde, how I may not my love kepe, but thorow willinge in herte; wilne to love may I not, but I lovinge have. Love have I non , but thorow grace of this Margarite-perle. It is no maner doute, that20 wil wol not love but for it is lovinge, as wil wol not rightfully but for it is rightful it-selve. Also wil is not lovinge for he wol love; but he wol love for he is lovinge; it is al oon to †wilne to be lovinge, and lovinges in possession to have. Right so wil wol not25 love, for of love hath he no partie. And yet I denye not lovinge wil [may ] wilne more love to have, whiche that he hath not whan he wolde more than he hath; but I saye, he may no love wilne if he no love have, through which thilke love he shuld wilne. But to have this loving wil may no man of him-selfe, but only through30 grace toforn-going ; right so may no man it kepe, but by grace folowinge. Consider now every man aright, and let seen if that any wight of him-selfe mowe this loving wel gete , and he therof first nothing have; for if it shulde of him-selfe springe , either it muste be willing or not willing. Willing by him-selfe may he it not35 have, sithen him fayleth the mater that shulde it forth bringe . The mater him fayleth; why? He may therof have no knowing til whan grace put it in his herte. Thus willing by him-selfe may he it not have; and not willing, may he it not have. Pardè, every conseyt of every resonable creature otherwyse wil [wol ] not40graunte ; wil in affirmatif with not willing by no way mowe acorde. And although this loving wol come in myn herte by freenesse of arbitrement, as in this booke fully is shewed, yet owe I not therfore as moche alowe my free wil as grace of that Margaryte to me lened . For neyther might I, without grace to-forn going and45afterward folowing, thilke grace gete ne kepe; and lese shal I it never but-if free wil it make , as in willinge otherwyse than grace hath me graunted. For right as whan any person taketh willing to be sobre, and throweth that away, willing to be dronke; or els taketh wil of drinking out of mesure; whiche thing, anon as it is50don , maketh (thorow his owne gilte by free wil) that [he ] leseth his grace. In whiche thing therfore upon the nobley of grace I mote trusten, and my besy cure sette thilke grace to kepe, that my free wil, otherwyse than by reson it shulde werche, cause not my grace to voyde: for thus must I bothe loke to free wil and to55 grace. For right as naturel usage in engendring of children may not ben without †fader , ne also but with the †moder , for neyther †fader ne †moder in begetting may it lacke; right so grace and free wil accorden, and withoute hem bothe may not lovinge wil in no partie ben getten. But yet is not free wil in gettinge of that thing so mokel thank-worthy as is grace, ne in the kepinge therof60 so moche thank deserveth; and yet in gettinge and keping bothe don they accorde. Trewly, often-tyme grace free wil helpeth, in fordoinge of contrarye thinges, that to willinge love not accorden, and †strengtheth wil adversitees to withsitte; wherfore †al-togider to grace oweth to ben accepted, that my willing deserveth. Free65 wil to lovinge in this wyse is accorded. I remembre me wel how al this book (who-so hede taketh) considereth [how ] al thinges to werchinges of mankynde evenly accordeth, as in turning of this worde ‘love’ in-to trouthe or els rightwisnesse, whether that it lyke. For what thing that falleth to man in helping of free70 arbitrement, thilke rightwisnesse to take or els to kepe, thorow whiche a man shal be saved (of whiche thing al this book mencion hath maked), in every poynte therof grace oweth to be thanked. Wherfore I saye, every wight havinge this rightwisnesse rightful is; and yet therfore I fele not in my conscience, that to al75 rightful is behoten the blisse everlastinge, but to hem that ben rightful withouten any unrightfulnesse. Some man after some degree may rightfully ben accompted as chaste men in living, and yet ben they janglers and ful of envy pressed; to hem shal this blisse never ben delivered. For right as very blisse is without al maner80 nede, right so to no man shal it be yeven but to the rightful, voyde from al maner unrightfulnesse founde; so no man to her blisse shal ben folowed, but he be rightful, and with unrightfulnesse not bounde, and in that degree fully be knowe. This rightfulnesse, in as moche as in him-selfe is, of none yvel is it cause; and of al85 maner goodnesse, trewly, it is †moder . This helpeth the spirit to withsitte the leude lustes of flesshly lykinge. This strengtheth and maintayneth the lawe of kynde; and if that otherwhyle me weneth harm of this precious thing to folowe, therthorough is [it ] nothing the cause; of somwhat els cometh it aboute, who-so90[ ] taketh hede. By rightfulnesse forsothe wern many holy sayntes good savour in swetenesse to god almighty; but that to some folkes they weren savour of dethe, in-to deedly ende, that com not of the sayntes rightwisnesse, but of other wicked mennes 95 badnesse hath proceded. Trewly, the ilke wil, whiche that the Lady of Love me lerned ‘affection of wil’ to nempne, which is in willing of profitable thinges, yvel is it not, but whan to flesshly lustes it consenteth ayenst reson of soule. But that this thing more clerely be understande , it is for to knowe, whence and how100 thilke wil is so vicious, and so redy yvel dedes to perfourme. Grace at the ginninge ordeyned thilke wil in goodnesse ever to have endured, and never to badnesse have assented. Men shulde not byleve, that god thilke wil maked to be vicious [in] our firste †faders , as Adam and Eve; for vicious appetytes, and vicious wil105 to suche appetytes consentinge, ben not on thing in kynde; other thing is don for the other. And how this wil first in-to man first assented, I holde it profitable to shewe; but if the first condicion of resonable creature wol be considred and apertly loked, lightly the cause of suche wil may be shewed. Intencion of god was,110 that rightfully and blissed shulde resonable nature ben maked, himselfe for to kepe; but neyther blisful ne rightful might it not be, withouten wil in them bothe. Wil of rightfulnesse is thilke same rightfulnesse, as here-to-forn is shewed; but wil of blisse is not thilke blisse, for every man hath not thilke blisse, in whom115 the wil therof is abydinge. In this blisse, after every understandinge, is suffisaunce of covenable comoditees without any maner nede, whether it be blisse of aungels or els thilke that grace first in paradise suffred Adam to have. For al-though angels blisse be more than Adams was in paradyse, yet may it not120 be †denyed , that Adam in paradyse ne had suffisaunce of blisse; for right as greet herte is without al maner of coldenesse, and yet may another herte more hete have; right so nothing defended Adam in paradyse to ben blessed, without al maner nede . Al-though aungels blisse be moche more, forsothe, it foloweth125 not [that ], lasse than another to have, therfore him nedeth ; but for to wante a thing whiche that behoveth to ben had, that may ‘nede’ ben cleped; and that was not in Adam at the first ginning. God and the Margaryte weten what I mene . Forsothe, where-as is nede, there is wrecchednesse . †God without cause130 to-forngoing made not resonable creature wrecched ; for him to understande and love had he firste maked. God made therfore man blissed without al maner indigence; †togider and at ones took resonable creature blisse, and wil of blissednesse, and wil of rightfulnesse, whiche is rightfulnesse it-selve, and libertee of arbitrement, that is, free wil, with whiche thilke rightfulnesse may135 he kepe and lese. So and in that wyse [god ] ordayned thilke two, that wil (whiche that “instrument” is cleped , as here-toforn mencion is maked) shulde use thilke rightfulnesse, by teching of his soule to good maner of governaunce, in thought and in wordes; and that it shulde use the blisse in obedient maner, withouten140 any incommoditè. Blisse, forsothe, in-to mannes profit , and rightwisnesse in-to his worship god delivered at ones; but rightfulnesse so was yeven that man might it lese, whiche if he not lost had, but continuelly [might ] have it kept , he shulde have deserved the avauncement in-to the felowshippe of angels, in whiche thing145[ ] if he that loste, never by him-selfe forward shulde he it mowe ayenward recovere; and as wel the blisse that he was in, as aungels blisse that to-him-wardes was coming, shulde be nome at ones, and he deprived of hem bothe. And thus fil man un-to lykenesse of unresonable bestes; and with hem to corrupcion and150 unlusty apetytes was he under-throwen. But yet wil of blisse dwelleth, that by indigence of goodes, whiche that he loste through greet wrecchednesse , by right shulde he ben punisshed. And thus, for he weyved rightfulnesse, lost hath he his blisse; but fayle of his desyrin his owne comoditè may he not; and †where155 comodites to his resonable nature whiche he hath lost may he not have, to false lustes, whiche ben bestial appetytes, he is turned. Folye of unconning hath him begyled, in wening that thilke ben the comoditees that owen to ben desyred. This affection of wil by libertè of arbitrement is enduced to wilne thus thing that160 he shulde not; and so is wil not maked yvel but unrightful, by absence of rightfulnesse, whiche thing by reson ever shulde he have. And freenesse of arbitrement may he not wilne, whan he it not haveth; for while he it had, thilke halp it not to kepe; so that without grace may it not ben recovered. Wil of commoditè,165 in-as-moche as unrightful it is maked by willinge of yvellustes, willing of goodnesse may he not wilne; for wil of instrument of affeccion of wil is thralled, sithen that other thing may it not wilne; for wil of instrument to affeccion desyreth, and yet ben bothe they170 ‘wil’ cleped. For that instrument wol, through affeccion it wilneth; and affeccion desyreth thilke thing wherto instrument him ledeth. And so free wil to unlusty affeccion ful servaunt is maked, for unrightfulnesse may he not releve; and without rightfulnesse ful fredom may it never have. For kyndly libertee of arbitrement175 without it, veyne and ydel is, forsothe. Wherfore yet I say, (as often have I sayd the same), whan instrument of wil lost hath rightfulnesse, in no maner but by grace may he ayen retourne rightfulnesse to wilne. For sithen nothing but rightfulnesse alone shulde he wilne, what that ever he wilneth without rightfulnesse,180 unrightfully he it wilneth. These than unrightful appetytes and unthrifty lustes whiche the †flesh desyreth, in as mokel as they ben in kynde, ben they nat bad; but they ben unrightful and badde for they ben in resonable creature, where-as they being, in no waye shulde ben suffred. In unresonable beestes neyther ben they yvel185 ne unrightful; for there is their kynde being.

CHAPTER IX.

Ch. IX.

KNOWEN may it wel ben now of these thinges toforn declared, that man hath not alway thilke rightfulnesse which by dutè of right evermore haven he shulde, and by no way by him-selfe may he it gete ne kepe; and after he it hath, if he it5 lese, recover shal he it never without especial grace. Wherfore the comune sentence of the people in opinion, that every thing[ ] after destenee is ruled, false and wicked is to beleve. For though predestinacion be as wel of good as of badde, sithen that it is sayd, god †hath destenees made, whiche he never ne wrought; but,10 for he suffreth hem to be maked, as that he hardeth, whan he naught missayth , or †let in-to temptacion, whan he not delivereth: wherfore it is noninconvenient if in that maner be sayd, god toforn have destenyed bothe badde and her badde werkes, whan hem ne their yvel dedes [he ] neyther amendeth ne therto hem15 grace †leneth . But specialliche, predestinacion of goodnesse alone is sayd by these grete clerkes; for in him god doth that they ben, and that in goodnesse they werchen. But the negatif herof in badnesse is holden, as the Lady of Love hath me lerned, who-so aright in this booke loketh. And utterly it is to weten, that predestinacion properly in god may not ben demed, no more20 than beforn-weting . For in the chapitre of goddes beforn-weting , as Love me rehersed, al these maters apertly may ben founden. Al thinges to god ben now †togider and in presence duringe. Trewly, presence and predestinacion in nothing disacorden; wherfore, as I was lerned how goddes before-weting and free25 choice of wil mowe stonden †togider , me thinketh the same reson me ledeth , that destenye and free wil accorden, so that neyther of hem bothe to other in nothing contrarieth. And resonabliche may it not ben demed , as often as any thing falleth [thorow ] free wil werching (as if a man another man wrongfully anoyeth, wherfore30 he him sleeth), that it be constrayned to that ende, as mokel folk cryeth and sayth: ‘Lo, as it was destenyed of god toforn knowe , so it is thorow necessitè falle, and otherwyse might it not betyde.’ Trewly, neyther he that the wrong wrought, ne he that him-selfe venged, none of thilke thinges thorow necessitè wrought;35 for if that [oon ] with free wil there had it not willed, neyther had [he ] wrought that he perfourmed; and so utterly grace, that free wil in goodnesse bringeth and kepeth, and fro badnesse it tourneth, in al thinge moste thank deserveth. This grace maketh sentence in vertue to abyde, wherfore in body and in soule, in ful40plentee of conninge, after their good deserving in the everlastinge joye , after the day of dome shul they endelesse dwelle ; and they shul ben lerned in that kingdom with so mokel affect of love and of grace, that the leste joye shal of the gretest in glorie rejoice and ben gladded, as if he the same joye had. What wonder,45[ ] sith god is the gretest love and the *gretest wisdom? In hem shal he be, and they in god. Now than, whan al false folk be ashamed, which wenen al bestialtè and erthly thing be sweter and better to the body than hevenly is to the soule; this is the grace and the frute that I long have desyred; it doth me good the50 savour to smelle .

[ ]Crist , now to thee I crye of mercy and of grace; and graunt, of thy goodnes, to every maner reder ful understanding in this leude pamflet to have; and let no man wene other cause in55 this werke than is verily the soth. For envy is ever redy, al innocentes to shende; wherfore I wolde that good speche envy evermore hinder.

But no man wene this werke be sufficiently maked; for goddes werke passeth man[ne]s ; no man[ne]s wit to parfit werke may by no60 way purvay th’ende. How shuld I than, so leude, aught wene of perfeccion any ende to gete ? Never-the-later, grace, glorie, and laude I yelde and putte with worshipful reverences to the sothfast god, in three with unitè closed, whiche that the hevy langour of my sicknesse hath turned in-to mirthe of helth to recover. For65 right as I was sorowed thorow the gloton cloud of manifolde sickly sorow, so mirth [of ] ayencoming helth hath me glad[d]ed and gretly comforted. I beseche and pray therfore, and I crye on goddes gret pitè and on his mokel mercy, that this[e] present scorges of my flessh mow maken medecyne and lechecraft of70 my inner man[ne]s helth; so that my passed trespas and tenes through weping of myn eyen ben wasshe, and I, voyded from al maner disese, and no more to wepe herafter, y-now be kept thorow goddes grace; so that goddes hand , whiche that merciably me hath scorged, herafter in good plite from thence merciably me75 kepe and defende.

In this boke be many privy thinges wimpled and folde; unneth shul leude men the plites unwinde. Wherfore I pray to the holy gost, he lene of his oyntmentes, mennes wittes to clere; and, for goddes love, no man wonder why or how this question come to80 my mynde. For my greet lusty desyr was of this lady to ben enfourmed, my leudenesse to amende. Certes, I knowe not other mennes wittes, what I shulde aske, or in answere what I shulde saye; I am so leude my-selfe, that mokel more lerninge yet me behoveth. I have mad therfore as I coude, but not85 sufficiently as I wolde, and as mater yave me sentence; for my[ ] dul wit is hindred by †stepmoder of foryeting and with cloude of unconning, that stoppeth the light of my Margarite-perle, wherfore it may not shyne on me as it shulde. I desyre not only a good reder, but also I coveite and pray a good book-amender , in correccion of wordes and of sentence; and only this90 mede I coveite for my travayle, that every inseër and herer of this leude fantasye devoute horisons and prayers to god the greet juge yelden; and prayen for me in that wyse, that in his dome my sinnes mowe ben relesed and foryeven. He that prayeth for other for him-selfe travayleth.95

Also I praye, that every man parfitly mowe knowe thorow what intencion of herte this tretys have I drawe. How was it, that[ ] sightful manna in deserte to children of Israel was spirituel mete ? Bodily also it was, for mennes bodies it †norisshed ; and yet, never-the-later, Crist it signifyed. Right so a jewel100 betokeneth a gemme, and that is a stoon vertuous or els a perle. Margarite, a woman, betokeneth grace, lerning, or wisdom of god, or els holy church. If breed, thorow vertue, is mad holy[ ] flesshe, what is that our god sayth ? ‘It is the spirit that yeveth lyf ; the flesshe, of nothing it profiteth.’ Flesshe is flesshly105 understandinge; flessh without grace and love naught is worth.[ ] ‘The letter sleeth; the spirit yeveth lyfelich understanding.’ Charitè is love; and love is charitè.

  • God graunt us al[le] therin to be frended![ ]
  • And thus The Testament of Love is ended.110

II.

THE PLOWMANS TALE.

Here beginneth the Plowmans Prologue.

From Thynne (ed. 1542). I give rejected spellings.

    • THE Plowman plucked up his plow ,
    • Whan midsommer mone was comen in,
    • And sayd, ‘his beestes shuld ete y-now ,
    • And lig in the grasse, up to the chin ;
    • They ben feble, both oxe and cow ,5
    • Of hem nis left but boon and skin .’
    • He shook of share, and cultre of-drow ,
    • And hong his harneys on a pin .
    • He took his tabard and his staf eke,
    • And on his, heed he set his hat;10
    • And sayde, he wolde saynt Thomas seke,
    • On pilgrimage he goth forth plat .
    • In scrippe he bar both breed and lekes,
    • He was forswonke and all forswat ;
    • Men might have seen through both his chekes,15
    • And every wang-toth and where it sat.
    • Our hoste beheld wel all about,
    • And saw this man was sunne y-brent;
    • He knew well by his senged snout ,
    • And by his clothes that were to-rent,20
    • He was a man wont to walke about,
    • He nas nat alway in cloystre y-pent;
    • He coud not religiousliche lout ,
    • And therfore was he fully shent.
    • Our host him axed, ‘what man art thou?’25
    • ‘Sir,’ quod he, ‘I am an hyne;
    • For I am wont to go to the plow ,
    • And erne my mete yer that I dyne.
    • To swete and swinke I make avow ,
    • My wyf and children therwith tofynd ,30
    • And servë god, and I wist how ;
    • But we lewd men ben full[y] blynd.
    • For clerkes saye, we shullen be fayn
    • For hir lyvelod [to] swete and swinke,
    • And they right nought us give agayn ,35
    • Neyther to ete ne yet to drinke.
    • They mowe by lawë, as they sayn ,
    • Us curse and dampne to hell[e] brinke;
    • Thus they putten us to payn ,
    • With candles queynt and belles clinke.40
    • They make us thralles at hir lust,
    • And sayn , we mowe nat els be saved;
    • They have the corn and we the dust,
    • Who speketh ther-agayn, they say he raved.’[ ]
    • ‘What, man,’ quod our host, ‘canst thou preche ?45
    • Come neer , and tell us some holy thing .’
    • ‘Sir,’ quod he, ‘I herde ones teche
    • A prest in pulpit a good preching .’
    • Say on,’ quod our host, ‘I thee beseche.’
    • ‘Sir, I am redy at your bidding.50
    • I pray you that no man me reproche
    • Whyl that I am my tale telling .

Thus endeth the prologue, and here foloweth the first part of the tale.

Colophon: fyrst parte.

PART I.

    • A STERNË stryf is stered newe[ ]
    • In many stedes in a stounde,
    • Of sondry sedes that ben sewe;55
    • It semeth that som ben unsounde.
    • For some be gretë growen †on grounde ,
    • Some bensouple , simple and small;
    • Whether of hem is falser founde,
    • The falser, foul mote him befall!60
    • That oon syde is, that I of tell,
    • Popes, cardinals, and prelates,
    • Parsons, monkes, and freres fell,
    • Priours, abbottes of grete estates;
    • Of heven and hell they kepe the yates,65
    • And Peters successours they ben all;
    • This is demed by oldë dates;
    • But falshed, foul mote it befall!
    • Many a countrey have I sought,
    • To know the falser of these two;
    • But ever my travail was for nought,
    • All so fer as I have go.80
    • But as I wandred in a wro ,
    • In a wode besyde a wall,
    • Two foules saw I sitte tho;
    • The falser, foul mote him befall!
    • That oon did plede on the Popes syde,85
    • A Griffon of a grim stature.
    • A Pellicane withouten pryde[ ]
    • To these lollers layde his lure;
    • He mused his matter in mesure ,
    • To counsayl Christ ever gan he call.90
    • The Griffon shewed as sharp as fyre,
    • But falshed, foul mote it befall!
    • And so shulde every Christned be;
    • Preestes, Peters successours,
    • Beth lowlich and of low degree,
    • And usen none erthly honours,
    • Neyther crown , ne curious cove[r]tours ,105
    • Ne †pelure , ne other proudë pall;[ ]
    • Ne nought to cofren up greet tresours ;
    • For falshed, foul mote it befall!
    • With prydë †punysheth the pore,
    • And somë they sustayn with sale;
    • Of holy churche maketh an hore,
    • And filleth hir wombe with wyne and ale;
    • With money filleth many a male,145
    • And chaffren churches when they fall,
    • And telleth the people a lewed tale;
    • Such falsë faytours, foul hem fall !
    • And myters mo than oon or two,
    • I-perled as the quenes heed;
    • A staf of golde, and †perrey , lo!
    • As hevy as it were mad of leed ;160
    • With cloth of gold both newe and reed ,
    • With glitterandgown as grene as gall,
    • By dome will dampnë men to deed;
    • All suche faytours, foulhem fall !
    • And Christes people proudly curse165
    • With brode bokes, and braying bell;
    • To putte pennyes in hir purse
    • They woll sell both heven and hell ;
    • And in hir sentence, and thou wilt dwell,
    • They willen gesse in hir gay hall;170
    • And though the soth thou of hem tell,
    • In greet cursinge shalt thou fall.
    • That is blessed, that they blesse,
    • And cursed, that they cursë woll;
    • And thus the people they oppresse,175
    • And have their lordshippes at full;
    • And many be marchauntes of woll,
    • And to purse penyes woll come thrall;[ ]
    • The porë people they all to-pull,
    • Such falsë faytours, foul hem fall!180
    • Lordes motë to hem loute,
    • Obeysaunt to hir brode blessing;
    • They ryden with hir royall route
    • On a courser, as it were a king ;
    • With saddle of golde glitt[e]ring185
    • With curious harneys quayntly crallit ,
    • Styroppes gaye of gold-mastling ;[ ][ ]
    • All suche falshed, foul befall it!
    • Christes ministers †cleped they been ,
    • And rulen all in robberye;190
    • But Antichrist they serven clene,
    • Attyred all in tyrannye;
    • Witnesse of Johns prophecye,
    • That Antichrist is hir admirall,[ ]
    • Tiffelers attyred in trecherye;195
    • All suche faytours, foul hem fall!
    • Who sayth, that some of hem may sinne,
    • He shal be †demed to be deed;[ ]
    • Some of hem woll gladly winne
    • All ayenst that which god forbed;200
    • All-holyest ” they clepen hir heed,
    • That of hir rulë is regall;
    • Alas! that ever they eten breed;
    • For all such falshed woll foul fall.
    • Hir heed loveth all honour,205
    • And to be worshipped in worde and dede;
    • Kinges mot to hem knele and coure;
    • To the apostles, that Christ forbede ;[ ]
    • To popes hestes such taketh more hede
    • Than to kepe Christes commaundëment;210
    • Of gold and silver mot ben hir wede,
    • They holdeth him hole omnipotent.[ ]
    • He ordayneth by his ordinaunce[ ]
    • To parish-preestes a powére;
    • To another a greter avaunce,215
    • A greter poynt to his mystere;
    • But for he is hyghest in erth here,
    • To him reserveth he many a poynt;
    • But to Christ, that hath no pere,
    • Reserveth he neither opin ne joynt.220[ ]
    • So semeth he above[n] all,
    • And Christ aboven him nothing;
    • Whan he sitteth in his stall,
    • Dampneth and saveth as him think .
    • Such pryde tofore god doth stink ;225
    • An angell bad John to him nat knele,
    • But only to god do his bowing ;
    • Such willers of worship must evil fele.
    • They ne clepen Christ but sanctus deus,
    • And clepen her heed Sanctissimus;230
    • They that such a sect[ë] sewis ,
    • I trowe, they taken hem amisse.
    • In erth[ë] here they have hir blisse,
    • Hir hye master is Belial;
    • Christ his people from hem wisse!235[ ]
    • For all such falsë will foul fall!
    • They mowë both[ë] binde and lose,
    • And all is for hir holy lyf ;
    • To save or dampne they mowë chose,
    • Betwene hem now [ther ] is gret stryf .240
    • Many a man is killed with knyf ,
    • To wete which of hem have lordship shall;
    • For such , Christ suffred woundes fyve;
    • For all such falshed will foul fall.
    • Christ sayd: Qui gladio percutit245[ ]
    • With swerdë shall [he surely ] dye;
    • He bad his preestes pees and grith,
    • And bad hem not drede for to dye;
    • And bad them be both simple and slye,
    • And carkë not for no cattall,250
    • And †truste on god that sitteth on hye;
    • For all [such] falsë shull foul fall.
    • These wollen makë men to swere
    • Ayenst Christes commaundëment;
    • And Christes membres all to-tere255[ ]
    • On rode as he wer newe y-rent.
    • Suche lawes they make by commun assent,
    • Ech on it choweth as a ball;
    • Thus the pore be fully shent,
    • But ever falshed foule it †fall !260
    • They usen [never ] no symonye,
    • But sellen churches and prioryes;
    • Ne [yet ] they usen no envye,
    • But cursen all hem contraryes;[ ]
    • And hyreth men by dayes and yeres265
    • With strength to holde hem in hir stall;
    • And culleth all hir adversaryes;
    • Therefor, falshed! foul thou fall !
    • With purse they purchase personage,
    • With purse they paynen hem to plede;270
    • And men of warrë they woll wage,
    • To bringe hir enemyes to the dede.
    • And lordes lyves they woll lede,
    • And moche take, and give but small;
    • But he it so get, from it shall shede,275[ ]
    • And make such falsë right foul fal!
    • They halowe nothing but for hyre,
    • Churchë, font, ne vestëment;
    • And make[n] orders in every shyre,
    • But preestes paye for the parchement;280
    • Or ryatours they taken rent ,
    • Therwith they smere the shepes skall;[ ]
    • For many churches ben oft suspent;
    • All such falshed, yet foul it fall!
    • Some liveth nat in lecherye,285
    • But haunten wenches, widdowes, and wyves,
    • And punisheth the pore for putrye;
    • Them-selfe it useth all their lyves.
    • And but a man to them [him ] shryves,
    • To heven comë never he shall;290
    • He shal be cursed as be captyves,
    • To hell they sayn that he shall fall.
    • There was more mercy in Maximien ,
    • And in Nero, that never was good,
    • Than [there ] is now in some of †hem295
    • Whan he hath on his furred hood .
    • They folowe Christ that shedde his blood[ ]
    • To heven, as bucket in-to the wall ;
    • Suche wreches ben worse than wood ;
    • And all such faytours, foule hem fall!300
    • They give hir almesse to the riche,
    • To maynteynours, and to men of lawe;
    • For to lordes they woll be liche,
    • An harlottes sone nat worth an hawe!
    • Sothfastnessë suche han slawe,305[ ]
    • They kembe hir crokets with cristall ;[ ]
    • And drede of god they have down drawe;
    • All suche faytours, foul hem fall!
    • They maken parsons for the penny,
    • And canons of hir cardinals;310
    • Unnethes amongest hem all any
    • That he ne hath glosed the gospell fals!
    • For Christ made never no cathedrals,
    • Ne with him was no cardinall
    • Wyth a reed hatte as usen mynstrals;315
    • But falshed, foul mote it befall!
    • Hir tything, and hir offring both,
    • They cle[y]meth it by possessio[u]n;
    • Thérof nill they none forgo,
    • But robben men as [by] raunsoun .320
    • The tything of Turpe lucrum[ ]
    • With these maisters is meynall ;
    • Tything of bribry and larson
    • Will makë falshed full foulfall !
    • They taken to fermë hir sompnours325[ ]
    • To harme the people what they may;
    • To pardoners and false faytours
    • Sell hir seles , I dar well say;
    • And all to holden greet array,
    • To multiply hem more metall,330
    • They drede full litell domes day
    • Whan all such [falsë] shall foul fall.
    • Suche harlottes shull men disclaunder[ ]
    • For they shullen make hir gree ,
    • And ben as proude as Alexaunder,335
    • And sayn to the pore , “wo be ye!”
    • By yere ech preest shall paye his fee
    • To encrese his lemmans call ;
    • Suche herdes shull well yvell thee ,
    • And all such falsë shull foul fall!340
    • And if a man be falsly famed,
    • And woldë make purgacioun,
    • Than woll the officers be agramed,
    • And assigne him fro town to town ;
    • So nede he must[e] paye raunsoun345
    • Though he be clene as is cristall ,
    • And than have an absolutioun;
    • But all such falsë shull foul fall!
    • Though he be gilty of the dede,
    • And that he [yet] may money pay,350
    • All the whyle his purse woll blede
    • He may use it fro day to day!
    • These bishoppes officers goon full gay,
    • And this game they usen over-all;
    • The pore to pill is all †hir pray;355
    • All such falsë shull foul fall!
    • Alas! god ordayned never such lawe,
    • Ne no such craft of covetyse;
    • He forbad it, by his sawe,
    • Such governours mowen of god agryse;360
    • For all his rules †ben rightwyse.
    • These newe poyntes ben pure papall,
    • And goddes lawë they dispyse ;
    • And all such faytours shul foul fall!
    • They sayn that Peter had the key365
    • Of hevin and hell, to have and hold ;
    • I trowe Peter took no money
    • For no sinnes that he sold !
    • Such successours ben to bold ,
    • In winning all their wit they wrall;370
    • Hir conscience is waxen cold ;
    • And all such faytours, foule hem fall!
    • Peter was never so great a fole
    • To leve his key with such a lorell,
    • Or to take such cursed such a tole375
    • He was advysed nothing well.
    • I trowe, they have the key of hell;
    • Hir maister is of that place marshall;
    • For there they dressen hem to dwell,
    • And with fals Lucifer there to fall.380
    • They ben as proude as Lucifer ,
    • As angry, and as envious;
    • From good fayth they ben full fer ,
    • In covetyse they ben curious;
    • To catche catell as covytous385
    • As hound , that for hunger woll yall;
    • Ungoodly, and ungracious ;
    • And nedely, such falshed shal foul fall!
    • The pope, and he were Peters heyr ,
    • Me think , he erreth in this cas ,390
    • Whan choyse of bishoppes is in dispeyr ,
    • To chosen hem in dyvers place;
    • A lord shall write to him for grace,
    • For his clerke †pray anon he shall;
    • So shall he spede[n] his purchas ;395
    • And all such falsë, foule hem fall!
    • Though he †conne no more good,
    • A lordes prayer shal be sped ;
    • Though he be wild of will or wood,
    • Nat understanding what men han red ,400
    • A boster , and (that god forbede!)
    • As good a bishop †as my hors Ball,[ ]
    • Suche a pope is foule be-sted ,
    • And at [the] la

      Here endeth the first part of this tale, and herafter foloweth the seconde part.

      PART II.

        • TO accorde with this wordë “fal”[ ]
        • No more English can I find ;
        • Shewe another now I shall,
        • For I have moche to say behind ,480
        • How preestes han the people pynd ,
        • As curteys Christ hath me [y-]kend ,
        • And put this matter in my mind
        • To make this maner men amend .
        • Shortly to shende hem, and shewe now485
        • How wrongfully they worche and walke;
        • O hye god, nothing they tell , ne how ,[ ]
        • But in goddes word, †tell many a balke.
        • In hernes holde hem and in halke,
        • And prechin of tythes and offrend ,490[ ]
        • And untruely of the gospell talke;
        • For his mercy, god it amend !
        • What is Antichrist to say
        • But evin Christes adversáry?
        • Such hath now ben many a day495
        • To Christes bidding full contráry,
        • That from the trouthë clenë vary ;
        • Out of the wayë they ben wend ;
        • And Christes people untruely cary;
        • God, for his pitè , it amend !500
        • That liven contráry to Christes lyf ,
        • In hye pride agaynst mekenesse;
        • Agaynst suffraunce they usen stryf ,
        • And angre ayenst sobrenesse;
        • Agaynst wisdom , wilfulnesse;505
        • To Christes tales litell tend ;
        • Agaynst mesúre , outragiousnesse;
        • But whan god woll, it may amend !
        • Lordly lyf ayenst lowlinesse,
        • And demin all without mercy;510
        • And covetyse ayenst largesse,
        • Agaynst trewth[e], trechery;
        • And agaynst almesse, envy;
        • Agaynst Christ they comprehend .
        • For chastitè, they maynteyn lechery;515
        • God, for his gracë, this amend !
        • Why cleymen they hoolly his powére,525
        • And wranglen ayenst all his hestes?
        • His living folowen they nothing here,
        • But liven wors than witles beestes.
        • Of fish and flesh they loven feestes,
        • As lordes, they ben brode y-kend ;530
        • Of goddes pore they haten gestes;[ ]
        • God, for his mercy, this amend !
        • With †Dives such shall have hir doom
        • That sayn that they be Christes frendes,
        • And do nothing as they shuld doon ;535
        • All such ben falser than ben fendes.
        • On the people they ley such bendes,
        • As god is in erthe, they han offend ;
        • Sucour for suchë Christ now sende us,
        • And, for his mercy, this amend !540
        • A token of Antichrist they be.
        • His careckes ben now wyde y-know ;
        • Receyved to preche shall no man be
        • Without[ë] token of him, I trow .
        • Ech Christen preest to prechen ow ,545
        • From god abovë they ben send .
        • Goddes word to all folk for to show,
        • Sinfull man for to amend .
        • Christ sente the pore for to preche;
        • The royall riche he did nat so;550
        • Now dar no pore the people teche,
        • For Antichrist is over-all hir fo .
        • Among the people he mot go;
        • He hath bidden, all such suspend ;
        • Some hath he hent , and thinketh yet mo;555
        • But all this god may well amend
        • They take on hem royáll powére,565
        • And saye, they havë swerdes two,
        • Oon curse to hell, oon slee men here;[ ]
        • For at his taking Christ had no mo,
        • Yet Peter had [that] oon of tho.
        • But Christ to Peter. smyte gan defend ,570
        • And in-to the sheth bad putte it tho;
        • And all such mischeves god amend !
        • So successours to Peter be they nought
        • Whom [that ] Christ madë cheef pastour ;
        • A swerd no shep[h]erde usen ought
        • But he wold slee as a bochour .
        • For who-so were Peters successour585
        • Shuld bere his sheep till his bak bend ,
        • And shadowe hem from every shour ;
        • And all this god may wel amend .
        • After Christ had take Peter the kay,
        • Christ sayd, he mustë dye for man;
        • That Peter to Christ gan withsay;
        • Christ bad him, ‘go behind , Sathan!’600
        • Such counsaylours many of these men han
        • For worldes wele, god to offend ;
        • Peters successours they ben for-than,
        • But all such god may well amend .
        • For Sathan is to say no more605
        • But he that contrary to Christ is;
        • In this they lernë Peters lore,
        • They sewen him whan he did mis ;
        • They folowe Peter forsothe in this,
        • In al that Christ wolde †himreprende ,610
        • Nat in that that longeth to hevin blis ;
        • God for his mercy hem amend !
        • Some of the apostels they sewen in cas ,
        • Of ought that I can understonde,
        • Him that betrayed Christ, Judas,615
        • That bar the purse in every londe;
        • And al that he might sette on honde,
        • He hidde and stal , and [gan] mispend ;
        • His rule these traytours han in honde;
        • Almighty god [now ] hem amend !620
        • And at last his lord gan tray
        • Cursedly, through his covetyse;
        • So wolde these trayen him for money,
        • And they wisten in what wyse!
        • They be seker of the selfe ensyse ;625
        • From all sothnesse they ben frend ;[ ]
        • And covetyse chaungen with queyntyse;
        • Almighty god all suche amend !
        • These han more might in England here
        • Than hath the king and all his lawe,
        • They han purchased hem such powére
        • To taken hem whom [they] list nat knawe;640
        • And say, that heresy is hir sawe,
        • And so to prison woll hem send ;[ ]
        • It was nat so by elder dawe,
        • God, for his mercy, it amend !
        • The kinges lawe wol no man deme[ ]645
        • Angerliche, withouten answere;
        • But, if any man these misqueme,
        • He shal be baited as a bere;
        • And yet wel wors they woll him tere,
        • And in prisón woll hem [be] pend650
        • In gyves, and in other gere;
        • Whan god woll, it may [a]mend .
        • The king taxeth nat his men
        • But by assent of the comminaltè;
        • But these, ech yere, woll raunsom hem655
        • Maysterfully, more than doth he;
        • Hir seles , by yerë, better be
        • Than is the kinges in extend ;
        • Hir officers han gretter fee;
        • But this mischeef [may] god amend !660
        • What bisshoppes, what religio[u]ns685
        • Han in this lande as moch lay-fee ,
        • Lordshippes, and possessio[u]ns
        • More than the lordes, it semeth me!
        • That maketh hem lese charitè,
        • They mowë nat to god attend ;690
        • In erthe they have so high degree,
        • God, for his mercy, it amend !

      Thus endeth the seconde part of this tale, and herafter foloweth the thirde.

      PART III.

        • For they ne ben but countrefet ,
        • Men may knowe hem by hir fruit ;710
        • Hir gretnesse maketh hem god foryet ,
        • And take his mekenesse in dispyt .
        • And they were pore and had but lyte,
        • They nolde nat demen after the face,
        • But norishe hir sheep , and hem nat byte;715
        • God amende hem for his grace!”
        • Grifon.
        • “What canst thou preche ayenst chanons
        • Thát men clepen seculere?”
        • Pelican. “They ben curates of many towns,
        • On erthë they have greet powére.720
        • They han greet prebendes and dere,
        • Some two or three , and some [han ] mo,
        • A personage to ben a playing-fere ,[ ]
        • And yet they serve the king also;
        • And let to fermë all that fare725[ ]
        • To whom that woll most give therfore;[ ]
        • Some woll spende, and some woll spare,
        • And some woll laye it up in store.
        • A cure of soule[s] they care nat for ,
        • Só they mowë money take;730
        • Whether hir soules be wonne or lore,
        • Hir profits they woll nat forsake.
        • They have a gedering procuratour
        • That can the pore people enplede,
        • And robben hem as a ravinour,735
        • And to his lord the money lede;
        • And cacche of quicke and eke of dede,
        • And richen him and his lord eke,
        • And to robbe the pore can give good rede
        • Of olde and yonge, of hole and seke .740
        • Therwith they purchase hem lay-fee
        • In londë, there hem lyketh best,
        • And buildeals brode as a citè
        • Both in the est, and eke in the west.
        • To purchase thus they ben ful prest;745
        • But on the pore they woll nought spend ,
        • Ne no good give to goddes gest,
        • Ne sende him some that all hath send .[ ]
        • Some of hem ben hardë nigges,
        • And some of hem ben proude and gay;
        • Some spende hir good upon [hir ] gigges ,
        • And finden hem of greet aray.760[ ]
        • Alas! what think these men to say
        • That thus dispenden goddis good?
        • At the dredfull domes day
        • Such wrecches shul be worse than wood.
        • Some hir churc[h]es never ne sye,765
        • Ne never o peny thider ne sende;
        • Though the pore parishens for hunger dye,
        • O peny on hem wil they nat spende.
        • Have they receivinge of the rent ,
        • They reck never of the remënant;770
        • Alas! the devill hath clene hem blent!
        • Suche oon is Sathanas sojournant.
        • And usen horedom and harlotry,[ ]
        • Covetysë, pompe, and pride,
        • Slouthë, wrathe, and eke envy,775
        • And sewen sinne by every syde.
        • Alas! where thinkë such t’abyde ?
        • How woll they accomptes yeld ?
        • From hy god they mow hem nat hyde,
        • Such willers wit is nat worth a neld .780[ ]
        • They ben so roted in richesse,
        • That Christes povert is foryete ,
        • Served with so many messe,
        • Hem thinketh that manna is no mete.
        • All is good that they mow get ,785
        • They wenë to live evermore;
        • But, whan god at dome is set ,
        • Such tresour is a feble store.
        • Other they ben proude, or coveytous,
        • Or they ben harde, or [els ] hungry,
        • Or they ben liberall or lecherous,
        • Or els medlers with marchandry;800
        • Or maynteyners of men with maistry,
        • Or stewardes, countours, or pledours,
        • And serve god in hypocrisy;
        • Such preestes ben Christes fals traytours!
        • They ben false, they ben vengeable,805
        • And begylen men in Christes name;
        • They ben unstedfast and unstable;
        • To tray hir lord , hem thinketh no shame.
        • To servë god they ben full lame,
        • Goddes theves, and falsly stele;810
        • And falsly goddes word defame;
        • In winning is hir worldes wele.
        • Antichrist these serven all;
        • I pray thee , who may say [me ] nay?
        • With Antichrist such [folk] shull fall,815
        • They folowen him in dede and fay;
        • They servin him in riche array,
        • To servë Christ such falsly fayn ;
        • Why, at the dredful domes day,
        • Shull they not folowe him to payn ?820
        • That knowen hem-self , that they don ill
        • Ayenst Christes commaundëment,
        • And amende hem never ne will,
        • But serve Sathan by one assent.
        • Who sayth [the ] sothe, he shal be shent,825
        • Or speketh ayenst hir fals living;
        • Who-so well liveth shal be brent ,
        • For such ben gretter than the king!
        • Pope, bishoppes, and cardinals,
        • Chanons, persons, and vicaire ,830
        • In goddes service, I trow , ben fals ,
        • That sacramentës sellen here.
        • And ben as proude as Lucifere;
        • Ech man loke whether that I ly !
        • Who-so speketh ayenst hir powére,835
        • It shall be holden heresy.
        • Loke how many orders take
        • Only of Christ , for his servyce,
        • That the worldes goodes forsake?
        • Who-so taketh orders †on other wyse,840
        • I trow , that they shall sore agryse!
        • For all the glose that they conne,
        • All sewen not this [same ] assyse;
        • In yvell tyme they thus bigonne.
        • Loke how many among hem all845
        • Holden not this hyë way !
        • With Antichrist they shullen fall,
        • For they wolden god betray .
        • God amende hem, that best may !
        • For many men they maken shende;850
        • They weten well, the sothe I say ,
        • Bút the divell hath foule hem blend .
        • For the tythinge of a ducke,
        • Or of an apple, or an ay ,
        • They make men swere upon a boke;
        • Thus they foulen Christes fay.
        • Such beren yvell heven-kay ,865
        • They mowen assoyl , they mowë shryve;
        • With mennes wyves strongly play,
        • With trewë tillers sturte and stryve
        • Mennes wyves they wollen holde;
        • And though that they ben right sory,
        • To speke they shull not be so bolde
        • Forsompning to the consistory;880
        • And make hem say [with] mouth “I ly ,”
        • Though they it sawë with hir y ;
        • His lemman holden openly,
        • No man so hardy to axë why!
        • He wol have tythinge and offringe,885
        • Maugrè who-so-ever it gruche;
        • And twyës on the day woll singe;
        • Goddes prestes nere none suche!
        • He mot on hunting with dogge and bic[c]he,
        • And blowen his horn , and cryën “hey!”890
        • And sorcery usen as a wicche ;
        • Such kepen yvell Peters key.
        • That lewed people see it mow ,
        • Thou, Mary , worchest wonder thinges;
        • About that, that men offren to now ,
        • Hongen broches, ouches, and ringes;
        • The preest purchaseth the offringes,905
        • But he nill offre to none image;
        • Wo is the soule that he for singes,
        • That precheth for suche a pilgrimage!
        • To men and women that ben pore ,
        • That ben [in ] Christes own lykenesse,910
        • Men shullen offre at hir dore
        • That suffren honger and distresse;
        • And to suche imáges offre lesse,
        • That mow not felë thurst ne cold ;
        • The pore in spirit gan Christ blesse,915[ ]
        • Therfore offreth to feble and old .
        • Buckelers brode, and swerdes longe ,
        • Baudriks , with baselardes kene,[ ]
        • Such toles about hir necke they honge;
        • With Antichrist such preestes been ;920
        • Upon hir dedes it is well sene
        • Whom they serven, whom they hono[u]ren;
        • Antichristes they ben clene,
        • And goddes goodes fa[l]sly deuouren.
        • Of scarlet and grene gay[ë] gownes,925
        • That mot be shapë for the newe,
        • To clippen and kissen counten in townes
        • The damoseles that to the daunce sewe;
        • Cutted clothes to sewehir hewe,
        • With longë pykes on hir shoon ;930
        • Our goddes gospell is not trewe,
        • Eyther they serven the divell or noon !
        • Now ben prestes pokes so wyde,
        • Men must enlarge the vestëment;
        • The holy gospell they don hyde,935
        • For they contrarien in rayment.
        • Such preestes of Lucifer ben sent,
        • Lyk conquerours they ben arayd ,
        • Proude pendaunts at hir ars y-pent,
        • Falsly the truthe they han betrayd .940
        • Shryft-silver suchë wollen aske is,[ ]
        • And woll men crepë to the crouche;[ ]
        • None of the sacraments , save askes ,
        • Without[ë] mede shall no man touche.
        • On hir bishop their warant vouche,945
        • That is lawe of the decrè;
        • With mede and money thus they mouche,
        • And † this , they sayn , is charitè!
        • In the middes of hir masse
        • They nill have no man but for hyre,950
        • And, full shortly, let forth passe;
        • Such shull men finde[n] in ech shyre
        • That personages for profite desyre,
        • To live in lykinge and in lustes;
        • I dar not sayn , sans ose ieo dyre ,955
        • That such ben Antichristes preestes.
        • Or they yef the bishops why,[ ]
        • Or they mot ben in his servyce,
        • And holden forth hir harlotry;
        • Such prelats ben of feble empryse.960
        • Of goddes grame such men agryse ,
        • For such mattérs that taken mede;
        • How they excuse hem, and in what wyse,
        • Me thinketh, they ought greetly drede.
        • Though a prest ly with his lemman al night,
        • And tellen his felowe, and he him,
        • He goth to massë anon-right ,975
        • And sayeth, he singeth out of sinne!
        • His bryde abydeth him at his inne,
        • And dighteth his dyner the mene whyle;
        • He singeth his masse for he wolde winne,
        • And so he weneth god begyle!980
        • Hem thinketh long till they be met;
        • And that they usen forth all the yere;
        • Among the folk when he is set ,
        • He holdeth no man half his pere;
        • Of the bishop he hath powére985
        • To soyle men, or els they ben lore;
        • His absolucion may make † hem skere;
        • And wo is the soul that he singeth for !”
        • The Griffon began for to threte,
        • And sayd, “of monkes canst thou ought?”990
        • The Pellican sayd, “they ben full grete,
        • And in this world moch wo hath wrought.
        • Saynt Benet , that hir order brought,
        • Ne made hem never on such manere;
        • I trowe, it cam never in his thought995
        • That they shulde use so greet powér[e];
        • That a man shulde a monk lord cal,
        • Ne serve on kneës, as a king .
        • He is as proud as prince in pall
        • In mete , and drink , and [in ] all thing;1000
        • Some weren myter and ring ,
        • With double worsted well y-dight,[ ]
        • With royall mete and riche drink ,
        • And rydeth on courser as a knight.
        • With hauke[s] and with houndes eke,1005
        • With broches or ouches on his hode,
        • Some say no masse in all a weke,
        • Of deyntees is hir moste fode .
        • With lordshippes and with bondmen
        • This is a royall religioun ;1010
        • Saynt Benet made never none of hem
        • To have lordship of man ne town .
        • They ben clerkes, hir courtes they oversee ,
        • Hir pore tenaunts fully they flyte;
        • The hyer that a man amerced be,
        • The gladlyer they woll it wryte.
        • This is fer from Christes povertè,1025
        • For all with covetyse they endyte;
        • On the pore they have no pitè,
        • Ne never hem cherish , but ever hem byte.
        • Therfore they han this all forsake,1045
        • And taken to riches, pryde, and ese ;
        • Full fewe for god woll monkes hem make,
        • Litell is suche order for to prayse!
        • Saynt Benet ordayned it not so,
        • But bad hem be [ful ] cherelich ;[ ]1050
        • In

          Finis.

          III.

          JACK UPLAND.

          From C. (=printed copy in Caius Coll. library, Cambridge); I give here rejected spellings; readings marked Sp. are from Speght.

          I, JACK UPLANDE , make my mone to very god and to all true belevinge in Christ, that Antichrist and his disciples, by colour of holines, walken and deceiven Christes church by many fals figures, wherethrough, by Antichrist and his, many vertues been transposed to vices.5

          But the fellestfolk that ever Antichrist foundbeen last[ ] brought into the church, and in a wonder wyse; for they been of divers sectes of Antichrist, sowen of divers countrees and kinredes . And all men knowen wel, that they ben not obedient to bishoppes, ne lege men to kinges; neither they tillen ne sowen, weden , ne repen woode, corn, ne gras, neither nothing that man shuld helpe but only hem-selves , hir lyves to sustein. And these men han all maner power of god, as they sayen, in heaven and in earth, to sell heaven and hell to whom that hem lyketh; and these wrecches wete never where to been15hemselves .

          And therfore, frere, if thine order and rules ben grounded on goddes law, tell thou me, Jack Upland, that I aske of thee ; and if thou be or thinkest to be on Christes syde, kepe thy pacience.

          Saynt Paul techeth , that al our dedes shuld be don in charitè,20 and els it is nought worth, but displesing to god and harm to[ ] oure owne soules. And for because freres chalengen to be gretest clerkes of the church, and next folowinge Christ in livinge, men shulde, for charitè, axe hem some questions, and 25 pray hem to grounde their answers in reson and in holy writ ; for els their answere wolde nought be worth, be it florished never so faire; and, as me think, men might skilfully axe thus of a frere.

          [ ] 1. Frere, how many orders be in erthe , and which is the perfitest order? Of what order art thou? Who made thyn30 order? What is thy rule? Is there ony perfiter rule than Christ himselfe made? If Christes rule be moost perfit , why rulest thou thee not therafter? Without more, why shall a frere be more punished if he breke the rule that his patron made, than if he breke the hestes that god himself made?

          35[ ] 2. Approveth Christ ony more religions than oon , that saynt James spekethof . If he approveth no more , why hast thou left his rule, and taken another? Why is a frere apostata , that leveth his order and taketh another secte; sith there is but oon religion of Christ ?

          40[ ] 3. Why be ye wedded faster to your habits than a man is to his wyfe? For a man may leve his wyf for a yere or two, as many men do; and if †ye leve your habit a quarter of a yere , ye shuld be holden apostatas.

          [ ] 4. Maketh youre habit you men of religion, or no? If it45 do, than, ever as it wereth , your religion wereth ; and, after that the habit is better, is you[r] religion better. And whan ye liggen it besyde you, than lig ye youre religion besyde you, and ben apostatas . Why by ye you so precious clothes, sith no man seketh such but for vaine glorie, as saynt Gregory saith?

          505.[ ] What betokeneth youre grete hood , your scaplerye, youre knotted girdel, and youre wyde cope ?

          [ ] 6. Why use ye al oon colour , more then other Christen men do? What betokeneth that ye been clothed all in one maner clothinge?

          557. If ye saye it betokeneth love and charitè, certes, than ye be ofte ypocrites, whan ony of you hateth other, and in that, that ye wollen be said holy by youre clothinge .

          [ ] 8. Why may not a frere were clothing of an-other secte of freres, sith holines stondeth not in the clothes?

          [ ] 9. Why holde ye silence in one howse more than in another ;60 sith men ought over-al to speke the good and leve the evell?

          [ ] 10. Why ete you flesh in one house more than in another, if youre rule and youre order be perfit, and the patron that made it?

          [ ] 11. Why gette ye your dispensacions, to have it more esy ?65 Certes, either it semeth that ye be unperfit ; or he, that made it so hard that ye may not holde it. And siker , if ye holde not the rule of youre patrons, ye be not than hir freres; and so ye lye upon youre-selves !

          [ ] 12. Why make ye you as dede men whan ye be professed;70 and yet ye be not dede , but more quicke beggars than ye were before? And it semeth evell a deed man to go aboute and begge.

          [ ] 13. Why will ye not suffer youre novices here your councels in youre chapter-house, er that they been professed; if youre councels75 been trew, and after god[d]es lawe?

          [ ] 14. Why make ye you so costly houses to dwell in; sith Christ did not so, and dede men shuld have but graves, as falleth todede men? And yet ye have more gorgeous buildinges than many lordes of Englonde. For ye maye wenden through the80 realme, and ech night, wel nigh , ligge in youre owne courtes; and so mow but right few lordes do.

          [ ] 15. Why hyre ye to ferme youre limitors, gevinge therfore eche yeer a certain rente; and will not suffer oon in an-others limitacion, right as ye were your-selves lordes of contreys?85

          [ ] 16. Why be ye not under youre bisshops visitacions, and liege men to oure kinge?

          17. Why axe ye no letters of bretherhedes of other mens prayers, as ye desyre that other men shulde aske letters of you?

          [ ] 18. If youre letters be good, why graunte ye them not generally90 to al maner men , for the more charitè?

          [ ] 19. Mow ye make ony man more perfit brother for your prayers, than god hath by oure beleve, by our baptyme and his owne graunte? If ye mowe, certes, than ye be above god.

          9520.[ ] Why make ye men beleve that your golden trentall songe of you, to take therfore ten shillinges, or at the leest fyve shillinges, will bringe soules out of helle, or out of purgatorye? If this be sooth , certes, ye might bring all soules out of payne. And that wolle ye nought; and than ye be out of charitè.

          10021.[ ] Why make ye men beleve, that he that is buried in youre habit shall never come in hell; and ye wite not of youre-selfe, whether ye shall to hell, or no? And if this were sooth, ye shulde selle youre high houses, to make many habites , for to save many mens soules.

          10522.[ ] Why stele ye mens children for to make hem of youre secte; sith that theft is agaynst goddes heste; and sithe youre secte is not perfit? Ye know not whether the rule that ye binde him to, be best for him or worst!

          [ ] 23. Why undernime ye not your brethren, for their trespas110 after the lawe of the gospell; sith that underneminge is the best that may be? But ye put them in prison ofte, whan they do after goddes lawe; and, by saynt Austines rule, if ony did amisse and wolde not amende him, ye should put him from you.

          [ ] 24. Why covete ye shrifte, and burying of other mens parishens,115 and non other sacrament that falleth to Christen folke?

          [ ] 25. Why busie ye not to here shrifte of poore folke, as well as of riche lordes and ladyes; sith they mowe have more plentee of shrifte-fathers than poore folk may ?

          26. Why saye ye not the gospel in houses of bedred men; as120 ye do in riche mens, that mowe go to churche and here the gospell?

          27. Why covette †ye not to burye poore folk among you ; sith that they ben moost holy, as ye sayn that ye ben for youre povertee ?

          12528. Why will ye not be at hir diriges, as ye been at riche mens; sith god prayseth hem more than he doth riche men?

          [ ] 29. What is thy prayer worth; sith thou wilt take therefore? For of all chapmen ye nede to be moost wyse; for drede of symonye.

          13030.[ ] What cause hast thou that thou wilt not preche the gospell, as god sayeth that thou shuldest; sith it is the best lore, and also oure beleve?

          [ ] 31. Why be ye evell apayed that secular prestes shulde preche the gospel ; sith god him-selfe hath boden hem ?

          32. Why hate ye the gospell to be preched ; sith ye be so135 moche holde thereto? For ye winne more by yere with In principio, than with all the rules that ever youre patrons made. And, in this, minstrels been better than ye. For they contraryen not to the mirthes that they maken; but ye contraryen the gospell bothe in worde and dede.140

          [ ] 33. Frere, whan thou receivest a peny for to say a masse, whether sellest thou goddes body for that peny, or thy prayer, or els thy travail? If thou sayest thou wolt not travaile for to saye the masse but for the peny, †than certes , if this be soth, than thou lovest to littel mede for thy soule. And if thou sellest145 goddes body, other thy prayer, than it is very symony; and art become a chapman worse than Judas, that solde it for thirty pens.

          [ ] 34. Why wrytest thou hir names in thy tables, that yeveth thee moneye; sith god knoweth all thing ? For it semeth, by thy150 wryting, that god wolde not rewarde him but thou wryte him in thy tables; god wolde els forgetten it.

          [ ] 35. Why berest thou god in honde, and sclaundrest him that he begged for his mete ; sith he was lord over all? For than hadde he ben unwyse to have begged, and no nede therto.155

          [ ] 36. Frere, after what law rulest thou thee ? Wher findest thou in goddes law that thou shuldest thus begge?

          37. What maner men nedeth for to begge?

          Of whom oweth suche men to begge?

          Why beggest thou so for thy brethren?160

          If thou sayest, for they have nede; than thou doest it for the more perfeccion , or els for the leest , or els for the mene . If it be the moost perfeccion of all, than shulde al thy brethren do so; and than no man neded to begge but for him-selfe, for so shuld no man begge but him neded. And if it be the leest perfeccion, why165 lovest thou than other men more than thy-selfe? For so thou art not well in charitè; sith thou shuldest seke the more perfeccion after thy power, livinge thy-selfe moost after god; and thus, leving that imperfeccion, thou shuldest not so begge for hem . And if170 it is a good mene thus to begge as thou doest , than shuld no man do so but they ben in this good mene; and yet such a mene, graunted to you, may never be grounded in goddes lawe; for than both lered and lewed that ben in mene degrè of this worlde shuld go aboute and begge as ye do. And if all suche shuld do175 so, certes, wel nigh al the world shuld go aboute and begge as ye do: and so shulde there be ten beggers agaynst oon yever.

          38. Why procurest thou men to yeve thee hir almes, and sayest it is so meedful ; and thou wilt not thy-selfe winne thee that mede?

          18039. Why wilt thou not begge for poore bedred men, that ben poorer than ony of youre secte, that liggen, and mow not go aboute to helpe themselves ; sith we be all brethren in god, and that bretherhed passeth ony other that ye or ony man coude make? And where moost nede were, there were moost perfeccion;185 either els ye holde hem not youre pure brethren, or worse. But than ye be imperfite in your begginge.

          [ ] 40. Why make ye you so many maisters among you; sith it is agaynst the techinge of Christ and his apostels?

          [ ] 41.Whos ben all your riche courtes that ye han, and all your190 riche jewels ; sith ye sayen that ye han nought, in proper ne in comune ? If ye sayn they ben the popes, why †geder ye then, of poore men and of lordes, so much out of the kinges honde to make your pope riche? And sith ye sayen that it is greet perfeccion to have nought, in proper ne in comune , why be ye so fast aboute to195 make the pope (that is your †fader) riche , and putte on him imperfeccion? Sithen ye sayn that your goodes ben all his, and he shulde by reson be the moost perfit man, it semeth openlich that ye ben cursed children, so to sclaunder your †fader , and make him imperfit . And if ye sayn that tho goodes be yours, then do200 ye ayenst youre rule; and if it be not ayenst your rule, than might ye have both plough and cart , and labour as other good men don , and not so begge to by losengery , and ydell, as ye don . And if ye say that it is more perfeccion to begge than to travaill or worch with youre hand, why preche ye not openly, and teche all men to do so, sith it is the best and moost perfit lyf to helpe of her205 soules, as ye make children to begge that might have been riche heyres?

          [ ] 42. Why make ye not your festes to poore men, and yeveth hem yeftes, as ye don to the riche ; sith poore men han more nede than the riche?210

          [ ] 43. What betokeneth that ye go tweyne and tweyne †togeder ? If ye be out of charitè , ye accorden not in soule.

          [ ] 44. Why begge ye, and take salaries therto, more than other prestes; sith he that moost taketh, most charge he hath?

          45. Why holde ye not saynt Fraunces rule and his testament;215 sith Fraunces saith, that god shewed him this living and this rule? And certes, if it were goddes will, the pope might not fordo it; or els Fraunces was a lyar, that sayde on this wyse. And but this testament that he made accorde with goddes will, els erred he as a lyar that were out of charitè ; and as the law220 sayeth, he is accursed that letteth the rightfull last will of a deed man lacke . And this testament is the last will of Fraunces that is a deed man; it seemeth therefore that all his freres ben cursed.

          46. Why wil ye not touche no coined money with the crosse,225 ne with the kinges heed , as ye don other jewels both of golde and silver? Certes, if ye despyse the crosse or the kinges heed , than ye be worthy to be despysed of god and the kinge. And sith ye will receyve money in your hertes and not with youre handes, it seemeth that ye holde more holinesse in your hondes than in your230hertes ; and than be ye false to god.

          47. Why have ye exempt you fro our kinges lawes and visitinge of our bishoppes more than other Christen men that liven in this realme, if ye be not gilty of traitory to our realme, or trespassers to oure bishoppes? But ye will have the kinges lawes for trespas235don to you; and ye wil have power of other bishops more than other prestes; and also have leave to prison youre brethren as lordes in youre courtes, more than other folkes han that ben the kinges lege men.

          24048. Why shal some secte of you freres paye eche yere a certaine to hir generall provinciall or minister, or els to hir soverains, but-if he stele a certain number of children, as some men sayn ? And certes, if this be soth, than be ye constrayned, upon certaine payne, to do thefte, agaynst goddes commaundement, non245furtum facies.

          [ ] 49. Why be ye so hardy, to graunte, by letters of fraternitè, to men and women, that they shall have part and merit of all your good dedes; and ye witen never whether god be apayed with youre dedes because of youre sinne? Also ye witen never whether250 that man or woman be in state to be saved or damned; than shall he have no merit in heven for his owne dedes, ne for none other mans . And all were it so, that he shuld have part of youre good dedes; yet shulde he have no more than god would geve him, after that he were worthy; and so much shall eche man have of255 goddes yefte, withoute youre limitacion. But if ye will saye that ye ben goddes felowes , and that he may not do without youre assent, than be ye blasphemers to god.

          [ ] 50. What betokeneth that ye have ordeined, that when such oon as ye have mad youre brother or sister, and hath a letter of260 your sele , that letter †mot be brought in youre holy chapter and there be red ; or els ye will not praye for him? But and ye willen not praye specially for all other that weren not mad youre brethren or sistren, than were ye not in right charitè; for that ought to be commune , and namely in goostly thinges.

          26551. Frere, what charitè is this—to overcharge the people by mighty begginge, under colour of prechinge or praying or masses singing? Sith holy writ biddeth not thus, but even the contrary; for al such goostly dedes shulde be don freely , as god yeveth hem freely .

          27052. Frere, what charitè is this—to begyle children or they commen to discrecion, and binde hem to youre orders, that been not grounded in goddes lawe, against hir frendes wil? Sithen by this foly ben many apostatas , both in will and dede, and many ben apostatas in hir will during all hir lyfe, that wolde gladly be discharged if they wist how; and so, many ben apostatas that275 shulden in other states have ben trewe men.

          [ ] 53. Frere, what charitè is this—to make so mony freres in every countrey, to the charge of the people? Sith persounes and vicares alone, ye, secular prestes alone, ye, monkes and chanons alone, with bishops above hem , were y-nough to the280 church, to do prestes office. And to adde mo than y-nough is a foul errour, and greet charge to the people; and this is openly against goddes will, that ordeined all thinges to be don in weight, nomber, and mesure . And Christ himself was apayed with twelve apostles and a few disciples, to preche and do prestes office to all285 the hole world; than was it better don than it is now at this tyme by a thousand deel . And right so as foure fingers with a thumbe in a mannes hande, helpeth a man to worche, and double nomber of fingers in one hond shuld lette him more; and the more nomber that there were, passing the mesure of goddes ordinaunce,290 the more were a man letted to worke: right so, as it semeth, it is of these newe orders that ben added to the church, without grounde of holy writ and goddes ordinaunce.

          54. Frere, what charitè is this—to lye to the people, and saye that ye folowe Christ in povertè more than other men don ?295[ ] And yet, in curious and costly howsinge, and fyne and precious clothing, and delicious and lykinge fedinge, and in tresoure and jewels and riche ornamentes, freres passen lordes and other richeworldly men; and soonest they shuld bringe hir cause aboute, be it never so costly , though goddes lawe be put abacke .300

          55. Frere, what charitè is this—to † gader up the bokes of holy writ and putte hem in tresory, and so emprisoune hem from secular prestes and curates; and by this cautel lette hem to preche the gospell freely to the people without worldly mede; and also to defame good prestes of heresy, and lyen on hem openly,305 for to lette hem to shew goddes lawe, by the holy gospell, to the Christen people?

          56. Frere, what charitè is this—to fayn so much holines in your bodily clothing, that ye clepe your habit , that many blinde310[ ] foles desyren to dye therin more than in an-other? And also, that a frere that leveth his habit (late founden of men), may not be assoiled till he take it again, but is an apostata, as ye sayn , and cursed of god and man both? The frere beleveth treuth and pacience, chastitè, mekenesse, and sobrietè; yet for the more315part of his lyfe he may soone be assoiled of his prior; and if he bringe hoom to his house much good by yere, be it never so falsly begged and pilled of the poore and nedy people in courtes aboute, he shal be hold[en] a noble frere! O lord, whether this be charitè!

          320[ ] 57. Frere, what charitè is this—to prese upon a riche man, and to entyce him to be buried among you from his parish-church, and to suche riche men geve letters of fraternitè confirmed by youre generall sele , and therby to bere him in honde that he shall have part of all your masses, matins, prechinges , fastinges,325 wakinges, and all other good dedes don by your brethren of youre order (both whyles he liveth and after that he is deed ), and yet ye witen never whether youre dedes be acceptable to god, ne whether that man that hath that letter be able by good living to receive ony part of youre dedes? And yet a poore man, that ye330 wite wel or supposen in certain to have no good of, ye ne geve no such letters, though he be a better man to god than suche a riche man; nevertheles, this poore man doth not recche therof. For, as men supposen, suche letters and many other that freres behesten to men, be full of false deceites of freres, out of reson335 and god[d]es lawe and Christen mens faith.

          [ ] 58. Frere, what charitè is this—to be confessoures of lordes and ladyes , and to other mighty men, and not amend hem in hir living; but rather, as it semeth, to be the bolder to pille hir poore tenauntes and to live in lechery, and there to dwelle in your office of340 confessour, for winning of worldly goodes, and to be holden grete by colour of suche goostly offices? This seemeth rather pryde of freres than charitè of god.

          59. Frere, what charitè is this—to sayn that who-so liveth after youre order, liveth most parfitly , and next foloweth the state of aposteles in povertè and penaunce; and yet the wysest345 and gretest clerkes of you wende, or sende, or procure to the court of Rome to be mad cardinales or bishoppes or the popes chapelayns , and to be assoiled of the vowe of povertè and obedience to your ministers; in the which, as ye sayn, standeth moost perfeccion and merite of youre orders? And thus ye faren350 as Pharisees, that sayen oon , and do another to the contrarye.

          60. Why name ye more the patron of youre order in youre Confiteor, whan ye beginne masse, than other saintes, as apostels, or marters, that holy churche holde[th] more glorious than hem , and clepe hem youre patrons and youre avowries?355

          61. Frere, whet[h]er was saint Fraunces, in making of his rule that he sette thyne order in, a fole and lyar, or els wyse and trew? If ye sayn that he was not a fole but wyse; ne a lyar, but trew; why shewe ye the contrary by youre doing, whan by youre suggestion to the pope ye said that Fraunces rule was mad so hard that ye might360 not live to holde it without declaracion and dispensacion of the pope? And so, by youre dede, ye lete your patron a fole, that made a rule so hard that no man may wel kepe [it ]; and eke youre dede proveth him a lyar, where he sayeth in his rule, that he took and lerned it of the holy gooste. For how might ye, for shame,365 praye the pope to undo that the holy goost biddeth , as whan ye prayed him to dispense with the hardnesse of your order?

          [ ] 62. Frere, which of the foure orders of freres is best, to a man that knoweth not which is the beste, but wolde fain enter into the beste and none other? If thou sayest that thyn is the best, than370 sayest thou that noon of the other is as good as thyn ; and in this eche frere in the three other orders wolle say that thou lyest; for in the selve maner eche other frere woll say that his order is beste. And thus to eche of the foure orders ben the other three contrary in this poynte; in the which if ony say sooth, that is oon375aloon ; for there may but oon be the beste of foure. So foloweth it, that if ech of these orders answered to this question as thou doest, three were false and but oon trew; and yet no man shulde wite who that were. And thus it semeth, that the moost part of380 freres ben or shulde be lyars in this poynt, and they shulde answere therto. If †ye say that an-other ordre of the freres is better than thyn or as good; why toke ye not rather therto as to the better, whan thou mightest have chosen at the beginning? And eke, why shuldest thou be an apostata , to leve thyn order385 and take thee to that that is better? And so, why goest thou not from thyn order into that?

          63. Frere, is there ony perfiter rule of religion than Christ, goddes sone , gave in his gospell to his brethren, or than that religion that saynt James in his epistle maketh mencion of? If390ye saye ‘yes,’ than puttest thou on Christ, that is wysdom of god the †fader, uncunning , unpower, or evil will. For eyther than he coude not make his rule so good as an-other did his, (and so he hadde be uncunning, that he might not make his rule so good as another man might, and so were he unmighty and not395 god); or he wolde not make his rule so perfit as an-other did his (and so had he ben evill-willed, namely to himselfe!) For if he might, and coude , and wold[e] have mad a rule perfit without defaute , and did not, he was not goddes sone almighty. For if[ ] ony other rule be perfiter than Christes, than must Christes rule400 lacke of that perfeccion by as much as the other were more perfiter; and so were defaute, and Christ had failed in makinge of his rule. But to putte ony defaute or failinge in god, is blasphemy. If thou saye that Christes rule and that religion that saynt James maketh mencion of, is the perfitest; why holdest405 thou not than thilke rule without more? And why clepest thou thee rather of saynt Frances or saynt Dominiks rule or religion or order, than of Christes rule or Christes order?

          64. Frere, canst thou assigne ony defaute in Christes rule of the gospell, with the whiche he taught al men sikerly to be saved,410 if they kepte it to hir endinge? If thou saye it was to hard ,[ ] than sayest thou that Christ lyed; for he saide of his rule: ‘My yoke is softe, and my burthen light.’ If thou saye Christes rule was to light, that may be assigned for no defaute, for the better may it be kept. If thou sayst that there is no defaute in Christes rule of the gospell, sith Christ him-selfe saith it is light and esy :415 what nede was it to patrons of freres to adde more therto, and so to make an harder religion, to save freres, than was the religion that Christes apostels and his disciples helden and weren saved by; but-if they wolden that her freres saten above the apostels in heven , for the harder religion that they kepen here? And so420[ ] wolde they sitten in heven above Christ himselfe for the moo and strait observaunces; than so shulde they be better than Christ[ ] himselfe, with misc[h]aunce!

          If freres cunne not or mow not excuse hem of these questions asked of hem, it semeth that they be horrible gilty against god and hireven-Christen ; for which gyltes and defautes it were430 worthy that the order that they calle hir order were for-don . And it is wonder that men susteyne hem or suffer hem live in suche[ ] maner. For holy writ biddeth that thou do well to the meke, and geve not to the wicked, but forbid to geve hem breed, lest they be mad thereby mightier through you. Finis .435

          ¶ Prynted for Jhon Gough.

          Cum Priuilegio Regali.

          IV.

          JOHN GOWER

          UNTO THE WORTHY AND NOBLE KINGE HENRY THE FOURTH.

          From Th. (Thynne, ed. 1532.); corrected by T. (Trentham MS.) I give the rejected spellings of Th. (Thynne), except where they are corrected by the MS.

            • O NOBLE worthy king, Henry the ferthe,
            • In whom the gladde fortune is befalle
            • The people to governe here upon erthe,
            • God hath thee chose , in comfort of us alle;
            • The worship of this land, which was doun falle,5
            • Now stant upright, through grace of thy goodnesse,
            • Which every man is holde for to blesse.
            • The highe god, of his justyce alone,
            • The right which longeth to thy regalye
            • Declared hath to stande in thy persone;10
            • And more than god may no man justifye .
            • Thy title is knowe upon thyn auncestrye ;[ ]
            • The londes folk hath eek thy right affermed;
            • So stant thy regne, of god and man confermed.
            • Ther is no man may saye in other wyse15
            • That god him-self ne hath the right declared;
            • Wherof the land is boun to thy servyse,[ ]
            • Which for defaute of helpe hath longe cared.
            • But now ther is no mannes herte spared
            • To love and serve, and worche thy plesaunce;20
            • And al this is through goddes purveyaunce.[ ]
            • In alle thing which is of god begonne
            • Ther foloweth grace, if it be wel governed;
            • Thus tellen they whiche olde bokes conne,
            • Wherof, my lord, I wot wel thou art lerned.25
            • Aske of thy god; so shalt thou nat be werned
            • Of no request [the] whiche is resonable;[ ][ ]
            • For god unto the goode is favorable.
            • King Salomon, which hadde at his askinge
            • Of god, what thing him was levest to crave,30
            • He chees wysdom unto the governinge
            • Of goddes folk, the whiche he wolde save;
            • And as he chees , it fil him for to have;
            • For through his wit, whyl that his regne laste,
            • He gat him pees and reste, unto the laste .35
            • But Alisaundre, as telleth his historie ,[ ]
            • Unto the god besoughte in other weye,
            • Of al the worlde to winne the victorie,
            • So that under his swerde it might[e] obeye;
            • In werre he hadde al that he wolde preye.40
            • The mighty god behight[e] him that behest ;
            • The world he wan, and hadde it of conquest .
            • But though it fil at thilke tyme so,
            • That Alisaundre his asking hath acheved ,
            • This sinful world was al[le] payën tho;45
            • Was noon whiche hath the highe god beleved ;
            • No wonder was, though thilke world was greved .
            • Though a tyraunt his purpos mighte winne,
            • Al was vengeaunce, and infortune of sinne.
            • But now the faith of Crist is come a-place50
            • Among the princes in this erthe here,
            • It sit hem wel to do pitè and grace,
            • But yet it mot be tempred in manere.
            • For as they fynden cause in the matere
            • Upon the poynt, what afterward betyde,55
            • The lawe of right shal nat be layd a-syde.
            • So may a king of werre the viage[ ]
            • Ordayne and take, as he therto is holde,
            • To clayme and aske his rightful heritage
            • In alle places wher it is with-holde.60
            • But other-wyse, if god him-selve wolde
            • Afferme love and pees bitween the kinges,
            • Pees is the beste, above alle erthly thinges.
            • Good is t’eschewe werre, and nathelees
            • A king may make werre upon his right;65
            • For of bataile the fynal ende is pees;
            • Thus stant the lawe, that a worthy knight
            • Upon his trouthe may go to the fight.
            • But-if so were that he mighte chese,
            • Betre is the pees of which may no man lese.70
            • To stere pees oughte every man on-lyve ,
            • First, for to sette his liege lord in reste,
            • And eek these othre men, that they ne stryve;
            • For so this land may standen atte beste.
            • What king that wolde be the worthieste,75
            • The more he mighte our deedly werre cese ,
            • The more he shulde his worthinesse encrese .
            • Pees is the cheef of al the worldes welthe,
            • And to the heven it ledeth eek the way ;
            • Pees is of soule and lyfe the mannes helthe80
            • Of pestilence , and doth the werre away .
            • My liege lord, tak hede of that I say ,
            • If werre may be left , tak pees on honde,
            • Which may nat be withoute goddes sonde.
            • With pees stant every crëature in reste,85
            • Withoute pees ther may no lyf be glad;
            • Above al other good, pees is the beste;
            • Pees hath him-self, whan werre is al bestad;
            • The pees is sauf, the werre is ever adrad.
            • Pees is of al[le] charitè the keye,90
            • Whiche hath the lyf and soule for to weye.
            • My liege lord, if that thee list to seche
            • The sothe ensamples, what the werre hath wrought,
            • Thou shalt wel here, of wyse mennes speche,
            • That deedly werre tourneth in-to nought.95
            • For if these olde bokes be wel sought ,
            • Ther might thou see what thing the werre hath do
            • Bothe of conquest and conquerour also.
            • For vayne honóur, or for the worldes good,
            • They that whylom the stronge werres made,100
            • Wher be they now? Bethink wel, in thy mood,
            • The day is goon , the night is derke and fade;
            • Hir crueltè, which made hem thanne glade,
            • They sorowen now, and yet have naught the more;
            • The blood is shad, which no man may restore.105
            • The werre is moder of the wronges alle;
            • It sleeth the preest in holy chirche at masse,
            • Forlyth the mayde, and doth her flour to falle.
            • The werre maketh the grete citee lasse,
            • And doth the lawe his reules overpasse.110
            • Ther is nothing, wherof mescheef may growe
            • Whiche is not caused of the werre, I trowe.
            • The werre bringth in póverte at his heles,
            • Wherof the comun people is sore greved;
            • The werre hath set his cart on thilke wheles115
            • Wher that fortune may not be beleved.
            • For whan men wene best to have acheved,
            • Ful ofte it is al newe to beginne;
            • The werre hath nothing siker, thogh he winne.
            • For-thy, my worthy prince, in Cristes halve,120
            • As for a part whos fayth thou hast to gyde,
            • Ley to this olde sore a newe salve,
            • And do the werre away, what-so betyde.
            • Purchace pees, and sette it by thy syde,
            • And suffre nat thy people be devoured;125
            • So shal thy name ever after stande honóured!
            • If any man be now, or ever was
            • Ayein the pees thy prevy counsaylour,
            • Let god be of thy counsayl in this cas,
            • And put away the cruel werreyour.130
            • For god, whiche is of man the creatour,
            • He wolde not men slowe his creature
            • Withoute cause of deedly forfayture.
            • Wher nedeth most, behoveth most to loke;
            • My lord, how so thy werres be withoute,135
            • Of tyme passed who that hede toke,
            • Good were at home to see right wel aboute;
            • For evermore the worste is for to doute.
            • But, if thou mightest parfit pees attayne,
            • Ther shulde be no cause for to playne.140
            • Aboute a king, good counsayl is to preyse
            • Above al othre thinges most vailable;
            • But yet a king within him-self shal peyse
            • And seen the thinges that be resonable.
            • And ther-upon he shal his wittes stable145
            • Among the men to sette pees in evene ,
            • For love of him whiche is the king of hevene .
            • A! wel is him that shedde never blood[ ]
            • But-if it were in cause of rightwysnesse!
            • For if a king the peril understood150
            • What is to slee the people, thanne, I gesse,
            • The deedly werres and the hevinesse
            • Wher-of the pees distourbed is ful ofte,
            • Shulde at som tyme cesse and wexe softe.
            • O king! fulfilled of grace and of knighthode,155
            • Remembre upon this poynt, for Cristes sake;
            • If pees be profred unto thy manhode,
            • Thyn honour sauf, let it nat be forsake!
            • Though thou the werres darst wel undertake,
            • After resoun yet temper thy corage;160
            • For lyk to pees ther is non avauntage.
            • My worthy lord, thenk wel, how-so befalle
            • Of thilke lore, as holy bokes sayn;
            • Crist is the heed, and we be membres alle,
            • As wel the subject as the soverayn.165
            • So sit it wel, that charitè be playn,
            • Whiche unto god him-selve most accordeth,
            • So as the lore of Cristes word recordeth.
            • In th’olde lawe, or Crist him-self was bore,
            • Among the ten comaundëments, I rede,170
            • How that manslaughter shulde be forbore;
            • Such was the wil, that tyme, of the godhede.
            • But afterward , whan Crist took his manhede,
            • Pees was the firste thing he leet do crye[ ]
            • Ayenst the worldes rancour and envye.175
            • And, or Crist wente out of this erthe here,
            • And stigh to heven, he made his testament,
            • Wher he bequath to his disciples there
            • And yaf his pees, which is the foundement
            • Of charitè, withouten whos assent180
            • The worldes pees may never wel be tryed,
            • Ne lovë kept, ne lawë justifyed.
            • The Jewes with the payens hadden werre,
            • But they among hem-self stode ever in pees;
            • Why shulde than our pees stonde out ofherre ,185
            • Which Crist hath chose unto his owne encrees?
            • For Crist is more than was Moÿses;
            • And Crist hath set the parfit of the lawe,
            • The whiche shulde in no wyse be withdrawe.
            • To yeve us pees was causë why Crist dyde,190
            • Withoute pees may nothing stonde avayled;
            • But now a man may see on every syde
            • How Cristes fayth is every day assayled,
            • With the payens distroyed , and so batayled
            • That, for defaute of helpe and of defence,195
            • Unneth hath Crist his dewe reverence.
            • The righte fayth to kepe of holy chirche
            • The firste poynt is named of knighthode;[ ]
            • And every man is holde for to wirche
            • Upon the poynt that stant to his manhode.200
            • But now, alas ! the fame is spred so brode
            • That every man this thing [alday ] complayneth;[ ]
            • And yet is ther no man that help ordayneth.
            • The worldes cause is wayted over-al;
            • Ther be the werres redy, to the fulle;205
            • But Cristes owne cause in special,
            • Ther ben the swerdes and the speres dulle.
            • And with the sentence of the popes bulle
            • As for to doon the folk payën obeye,
            • The chirche is tourned al another weye.210
            • It is wonder , above any mannes wit,
            • Withoute werre how Cristes fayth was wonne;
            • And we that been upon this erthë yit
            • Ne kepe it nat as it was first begonne.
            • To every crëature under the sonne215
            • Crist bad him-self, how that we shulde preche,
            • And to the folke his evangely teche.
            • More light it is to kepe than to make;
            • But that we founden mad to-fore the hond
            • We kepe nat, but lete it lightly slake;220
            • The pees of Crist hath al to-broke his bond.
            • We reste our-self , and suffren every lond
            • To slee eche other as thing undefended;
            • So stant the werre, and pees is nat amended.
            • But though the heed of holy chirche above225
            • Ne do nat al his hole businesse
            • Among the men to sette pees and love,
            • These kinges oughten, of hir rightwysnesse,
            • Hir owne cause among hem-self redresse.
            • Thogh Peters ship, as now, hath lost his stere,230
            • It lyth in hem that barge for to stere.
            • If holy chirche after the dewetè
            • Of Cristes word ne be nat al avysed
            • To make pees, accord, and unitè
            • Among the kinges that be now devysed,235
            • Yet, natheles, the lawë stant assysed
            • Of mannes wit, to be so resonable
            • Withoute that to stande hem-selve stable.
            • Of holy chirche we ben children alle,
            • And every child is holde for to bowe240
            • Unto the moder, how that ever it falle,
            • Or elles he mot reson disalowe.
            • And, for that cause, a knight shal first avowe
            • The right of holy chirche to defende,
            • That no man shal the privilege offende.245
            • Thus were it good to setten al in evene
            • The worldes princes and the prelats bothe,
            • For love of him whiche is the king of hevene ;
            • And if men shulde algate wexen wrothe,
            • The Sarazins, whiche unto Crist ben lothe,250
            • Let men be armed ayenst hem to fighte,[ ]
            • So may the knight his dede of armes righte.
            • Upon three poynts stant Cristes pees oppressed;[ ]
            • First, holy chirche is in her-self devyded;
            • Which oughte, of reson, first to be redressed;255
            • But yet so high a cause is nat decyded.
            • And thus, whan humble pacience is pryded,
            • The remenaunt, which that they shulde reule,
            • No wonder is, though it stande out of reule.
            • Of that the heed is syk , the limmes aken;260
            • These regnes, that to Cristes pees belongen,
            • For worldes good, these deedly werres maken,
            • Which helpelees , as in balaunce, hongen.
            • The heed above hem hath nat underfongen
            • To sette pees, but every man sleeth other;265
            • And in this wyse hath charitè no brother.
            • The two defautes bringen in the thridde
            • Of miscreants, that seen how we debate;
            • Between the two, they fallen in a-midde
            • Wher now al-day they fynde an open gate.270
            • Lo! thus the deedly werre stant al-gate.
            • But ever I hopë of king Henries grace,
            • That he it is which shal the pees embrace.
            • My worthy noble prince, and king anoynt ,
            • Whom god hath, of his grace, so preserved,275
            • Behold and see the world upon this poynt,
            • As for thy part, that Cristes pees be served.
            • So shal thy highe mede be reserved
            • To him, whiche al shal quyten atte laste;
            • For this lyf herë may no whyle laste.280[ ]
            • See Alisandre, Hector , and Julius,
            • See Machabeus , David, and Josuë,
            • See Charlemayne, Godfray, and Arthus
            • Fulfild of werre and of mortalitee!
            • Hir fame abit, but al is vanitee;285
            • For deth, whiche hath the werres under fote,
            • Hath mad an ende, of which ther is no bote.
            • So may a man the sothe wite and knowe,
            • That pees is good for every king to have;
            • The fortune of the werre is ever unknowe,290
            • But wher pees is, ther ben the marches save.
            • That now is up , to-morwe is under grave.
            • The mighty god hath alle grace in honde;
            • Withouten him, men may nat longe stonde.[ ]
            • Of the tenetz to winne or lese a chace295[ ]
            • May no lyf wite, or that the bal be ronne;
            • Al stant in god, what thing men shal purchace:
            • Th’ende is in him, or that it be begonne;
            • Men sayn, the wolle, whan it is wel sponne,
            • Doth that the cloth is strong and profitable,300
            • And elles it may never be durable.
            • The worldes chaunces upon aventure
            • Ben ever set; but thilke chaunce of pees
            • Is so behovely to the crëature
            • That it above al other is peerlees .305
            • But it may nat †be gete , nathelees,[ ]
            • Among the men to lasten any whyle,
            • But wher the herte is playn, withoute gyle.
            • The pees is as it were a sacrament
            • To-fore the god, and shal with wordes playne310
            • Withouten any double entendëment
            • Be treted; for the trouthe can nat feyne.
            • But if the men within hem-self be vayne,
            • The substaunce of the pees may nat be trewe,
            • But every day it chaungeth upon newe.315
            • But who that is of charitè parfyte ,
            • He voydeth alle sleightes fer aweye,
            • And set his word upon the same plyte
            • Wher that his herte hath founde a siker weye;
            • And thus, whan conscience is trewly weye,320
            • And that the pees be handled with the wyse,
            • It shal abyde and stande, in alle wyse.
            • Th’apostel sayth, ther may no lyf be good
            • Whiche is nat grounded upon charitè;
            • For charitè ne shedde never blood.325
            • So hath the werre, as ther, no propertè ;
            • For thilke vertue which is sayd ‘pitè’
            • With charitè so ferforth is acquaynted
            • That in her may no fals sembla[u]nt be paynted.
            • Cassodore , whos wryting is authorysed .330[ ]
            • Sayth: ‘wher that pitè regneth, ther is grace’;
            • Through which the pees hath al his welthe assysed ,
            • So that of werre he dredeth no manace.
            • Wher pitè dwelleth, in the same place
            • Ther may no deedly crueltè sojourne335
            • Wherof that mercy shulde his wey[e] tourne.[ ]
            • To see what pitè, forth with mercy, doth,
            • The cronique is at Rome, in thilke empyre
            • Of Constantyn , which is a tale soth,
            • Whan him was lever his owne deth desyre340
            • Than do the yonge children to martyre.
            • Of crueltee he lefte the quarele;
            • Pitè he wroughte, and pitè was his hele.
            • For thilke mannes pitè which he dede
            • God was pitous, and made him hool at al;345
            • Silvester cam, and in the same stede
            • Yaf him baptyme first in special,
            • Which dide away the sinne original,
            • And al his lepre it hath so purifyed,
            • That his pitè for ever is magnifyed.350
            • Pitè was cause why this emperour
            • Was hool in body and in soule bothe;
            • And Rome also was set in thilke honour
            • Of Cristes fayth, so that the leve, of lothe
            • Whiche hadden be with Crist tofore wrothe,355
            • Receyved werë unto Cristes lore.
            • Thus shal pitè be praysed evermore.
            • My worthy liege lord, Henry by name,
            • Which Engëlond hast to governe and righte,
            • Men oughten wel thy pitè to proclame,360
            • Which openliche, in al the worldes sighte,
            • Is shewed, with the helpe of god almighte,
            • To yeve us pees, which long hath be debated ,[ ]
            • Wherof thy prys shal never be abated.
            • My lord, in whom hath ever yet be founde365
            • Pitè, withoute spotte of violence,
            • Keep thilke pees alway, withinne bounde,
            • Which god hath planted in thy conscience.
            • So shal the cronique of thy pacience
            • Among the saynts be take in-to memórie370
            • To the loënge of perdurable glorie .
            • And to thyn erthely prys, so as I can,
            • Whiche every man is holde to commende,
            • I Gower, which am al thy liege man,
            • This lettre unto thyn excellence I sende,375
            • As I, whiche ever unto my lyves ende
            • Wol praye for the stat of thy persone,
            • In worshipe of thy sceptre and of thy trone .
            • Nat only to my king of pees I wryte,
            • But to these othre princes Cristen alle,380
            • That eche of hem his owne herte endyte
            • And cese the werre, or more mescheef falle.
            • Set eek the rightful pope upon his stalle;
            • Keep charitè, and draw pitè to honde,
            • Maynteyne lawe; and so the pees shal stonde.385

          Explicit carmen de pacis commendacione, quod ad laudem et memoriam serenissimi principis domini Regis Henrici quarti, suus humilis orator Johannes Gower composuit.

            • Electus Christi, [         ] pie rex Henrice, fuisti,
            • Qui bene venisti, [         ] cum propria regna petisti;
            • Tu mala vicisti [         ] -que bonis bona restituisti,
            • Et populo tristi [         ] nova gaudia contribuisti.
            • Est mihi spes lata, [         ] quod adhuc per te renovata390
            • Succedent fata [         ] veteri probitate beata;
            • Est tibi nam grata [         ] gratia sponte data.
            • Henrici quarti primus regni fuit annus[ ]
            • Quo mihi defecit visus ad acta mea.
            • Omnia tempus habent, finem natura ministrat,395
            • Quem virtute sua frangere nemo potest.
            • Ultra posse nihil, quamvis mihi velle remansit;
            • Amplius ut scribam non mihi posse manet.
            • Dum potui, scripsi, sed nunc quia curua senectus
            • Turbauit sensus, scripta relinquo scolis.400
            • Scribat qui veniet post me discretior alter,
            • Ammodo namque manus et mea penna silent.
            • Hoc tamen in fine verborum queso meorum,
            • Prospera quod statuat regna futura deus.404

          Explicit.

          V.

          THOMAS HOCCLEVE.

          THE LETTER OF CUPID.

          From F (Fairfax); various readings from B (Bodley 638); T (Tanner 346); S (Arch. Selden B. 24); A (Ashburnham MS.); Tr. (Trin. Coll. Cam. R. 3. 20). Also in Th. (Thynne, ed. 1532); D (Digby 181); Ff (Camb. Univ. Library, Ff. 1. 6); and in the Bannatyne MS.

          Litera Cupidinis, dei Amoris, directa subditis suis Amatoribus.

            • CUPIDO, unto whos comaundëment
            • The gentil kinrede of goddes on by
            • And people infernal been obedient,
            • And mortel folk al serven besily ,
            • The goddesse sonë Cithera soothly,5
            • To alle tho that to our deitee
            • Ben sugets , hertly greting sende we!
            • In general, we wolë that ye knowe
            • That ladies of honour and reverence,
            • And other gentil women, haven sowe10
            • Such seed of compleynt in our audience
            • Of men that doon hem outrage and offence,
            • That it our eres greveth for to here;
            • So pitous is th’effect of this matere.
            • Hir wordes spoken ben so syghingly,
            • With so pitousë chere and contenaunce,
            • That every wight that meneth trewely
            • Demeth that they in herte have such grevaunce;25
            • They seyn so importáble is hir penaunce
            • That, but hir lady lust to shewe hem grace,
            • They right anoonmot sterven in the place.
            • By proces women, meved of pitee,
            • Wening that al thing were as thise men sey,
            • They graunte hem grace of hir benignitee45
            • For that men shulde nat for hir sake dey;
            • And with good herte sette hem in the wey
            • Of blisful lovë—kepe it if they conne;
            • Thus other-whylë women beth y-wonne.
            • And whan this man the pot hath by the stele,50[ ]
            • And fully is in his possessioun,
            • With that woman he kepeth not to dele,
            • After if he may fynden in the toun
            • Any woman, his blinde affeccioun[ ]
            • On to bestowë; evel mote he preve!55
            • A man, for al his othes, is hard to leve !
            • And, for that every fals man hath a make,
            • (As un-to every wight is light to knowe),
            • Whan this traitour this woman hath forsake,
            • He faste him spedeth un-to his felowe;60
            • Til he be there, his herte is on a lowe;
            • His fals deceyt ne may him not suffyse,
            • But of his treson telleth al the wyse.
            • Is this a fair avaunt ? is this honour,
            • A man him-self accuse thus, and diffame?65
            • Now is it good, confesse him a traitour,
            • And bringe a woman to a sclandrous name,
            • And telle how he her body hath do shame?
            • No worship may he thus to him conquere,
            • But greet esclaundre un-to him and here!70
            • Althogh of men, through sleyght and sotiltee,
            • A sely, simple, and innocent woman
            • Betrayed is, no wonder, sith the citee80
            • Of Troye—as that the storie telle can—
            • Betrayed was, through the disceyt of man,
            • And set on fyre, and al doun over-throwe,
            • And finally destroyed, as men knowe.
            • And furthermore han thise men in usage
            • That, where as they not lykly been to spede,
            • Suche as they been with a double visage
            • They prócuren , for to pursewe hir nede;95
            • He prayeth him in his causë to procede,
            • And largely guerdoneth he his travayle;
            • Smal witen wommen how men hem assayle!
            • Another wrecche un-to his felowe seyth:
            • ‘Thou fisshest faire! She that thee hath fyred100
            • Is fals and inconstaunt , and hath no feyth .
            • She for the rode of folke is so desyred
            • And, as an hors, fro day to day is hyred
            • That, when thou twinnest fro hir companye,
            • Another comth , and blered is thyn eyë!105
            • ‘Now prikke on fastë , and ryd thy journey
            • Whyl thou art there; for she, behind thy bak ,
            • So liberal is, she wol no wight with-sey,
            • But smertly of another take a snak ;
            • For thus thise wommen faren, al the pak !110
            • Who-so hem trusteth, hanged mote he be!
            • Ay they desyren chaunge and noveltee!’
            • Wher-of procedeth this but of envye?
            • For he him-selve her ne winne may,
            • He speketh her repreef and vileinye ,115
            • As mannes blabbing tonge is wont alway.
            • Thus dyvers men ful often make assay
            • For to distourben folk in sondry wyse,
            • For they may not acheven hir empryse.
            • Ful many a man eekwolde , for no good,120
            • (That hath in love his tyme spent and used)
            • Men wiste, his lady his axing withstood,
            • And that he were of her pleynly refused,
            • Or wast and veyn were al that he had mused;
            • Wherfore he can no better remedye125
            • But on his lady shapeth him to lye:
            • ‘Every womman,’ he seyth, ‘is light to gete;
            • Can noon sey “nay,” if she be wel y-soght.
            • Who-so may leyser han , with her to trete,
            • Of his purpós ne shal he faile noght,130
            • But he on madding be so depe y-broght[ ]
            • That he shende al with open hoomlinesse ;
            • That loven wommen nat, as that I gesse!’
            • To sclaundre wommen thus, what may profyte
            • To gentils namely, that hem armen sholde,135
            • And in defence of wommen hem delyte
            • As that the ordre of gentilesse wolde?
            • If that a man list gentil to be holde,
            • He moot flee al that ther-to is contrarie;
            • A sclaundring tonge is his grete adversarie.140
            • A foul vice is of tonge to be light;
            • For who-so michel clappeth, gabbeth ofte.
            • The tonge of man so swift is and so wight
            • That, whan it is areysed up-on lofte,
            • Resoun it seweth so slowly and softe,145[ ]
            • That it him never over-take may:
            • Lord! so thise men ben trusty in assay !
            • Al-be-it that man fynde oo woman nyce,
            • Inconstant, rechelees, or variable ,
            • Deynouse or proud , fulfilled of malyce,150
            • Withouten feyth or love, and deceyvable,
            • Sly, queynt, and fals, in al unthrift coupable,
            • Wikked and feers, and ful of crueltee,
            • It foloweth nat that swiche al wommen be.
            • Whan that the high god aungels formed had,155
            • Among hem alle whether ther werë noon
            • That founden was malicious and bad?
            • Yis! al men woot that ther was many oon
            • That, for hir pryde, fil from heven anoon.
            • Shul men therfore alle aungels proude name?160
            • Nay! he that that susteneth is to blame.
            • Of twelve apostels oon a traitour was;
            • The remënant yit godë were and trewe.
            • Than, if it happe men fyndë, per cas ,
            • Oo womman fals, swich good is for t’eschewe,165
            • And deme nat that they ben alle untrewe.
            • I see wel mennes owne falsenesse
            • Hem causeth wommen for to trusten lesse.
            • O! every man oghte have an herte tendre
            • Unto womman, and deme her honurable,170
            • Whether his shap be outher thikke or slendre,
            • Or be he bad or good; this is no fable.
            • Every man woot, that wit hath resonable,
            • That of a womman he descended is:
            • Than is it shame, of her to speke amis.175
            • A wikked tree good fruit may noon forth bring,
            • For swich the fruit is, as that is the tree.
            • Tak hede of whom thou took thy biginning;
            • Lat thy moder be mirour unto thee.
            • Honoure her, if thou wolt honoured be!180
            • Dispyse thou her nat , in no manere,
            • Lest that ther-by thy wikkednesse appere!
            • An old provérbë seyd is in English:
            • Men seyn, ‘that brid or foul is dishonest ,
            • What that he be, and holden ful churlish ,185
            • That useth to defoule his owne nest.’
            • Men, to sey wel of wommen it is best,
            • And nat for to despyse hem ne deprave,
            • If that they wole hir honour kepe and save.
            • Thise ladies eek compleynen hem on clerkes190
            • That they han maad bokës of hir diffame,
            • In which they lakkenwommen and hir werkes
            • And speken of hem greet repreef and shame,
            • And causëlees yive hem a wikked name.
            • Thus they despysed been on every syde,195
            • And sclaundred, and bilowen on ful wyde.
            • The sory bokes maken mencioun
            • How they betrayden, in especial ,
            • Adam, David, Sampsoun, and Salamoun,
            • And many oon mo; who may rehersen al200
            • The treson that they havë doon, and shal?
            • The world hir malice may not comprehende;
            • As that thise clerkes seyn, it hath non ende.
            • Ovyde, in his boke called ‘Remedye[ ]
            • Of Lovë,’ greet repreef of wommen wryteth;205
            • Wherin, I trowe, he dide greet folye,
            • And every wight that in such cas delyteth.
            • A clerkes custom is, whan he endyteth
            • Of wommen , be it prose, or ryme, or vers,
            • Sey they ben wikke, al knowe he the revers.210
            • No charge is , what-so that thise clerkes seyn;
            • Of al hir wrong wryting I do no cure;
            • Al hir travayle and labour is in veyn.220
            • For, betwex me and my lady Nature,
            • Shal nat be suffred, whyl the world may dure,
            • Thise clerkes, by hir cruel tyrannye ,
            • Thus upon wommen kythen hir maistrye.
            • Whylom ful many of hem were in my cheyne225[ ]
            • Y-tyed , and now, what for unweldy age
            • And for unlust, may not to love atteyne,
            • And seyn, that love is but verray dotage.
            • Thus, for that they hem-self lakken corage,
            • They folk excyten, by hir wikked sawes,230
            • For to rebelle agayn me and my lawes.
            • But, maugre hem that blamen wommen most,
            • Suche is the force of myn impressioun,
            • That sodeinly I felle can hir bost
            • And al hir wrong imaginacioun.235
            • It shal not been in hir eleccioun
            • The foulest slutte of al a toun refuse,
            • If that me list, for al that they can muse;
            • But her in herte as brenningly desyre
            • As thogh she were a duchesse or a quene;240
            • So can I folkes hertes sette on fyre,
            • And (as me list) hem sende joye or tene.
            • They that to wommen been y-whet so kene
            • My sharpe persing strokes, how they smyte,
            • Shul fele and knowe; and how they kerve and byte.245
            • Perdee, this grete clerk, this sotil Ovyde
            • And many another han deceyved be
            • Of wommen , as it knowen is ful wyde;
            • Wot no man more; and that is greet deyntee,
            • So excellent a clerk as that was he,250
            • And other mo that coude so wel preche
            • Betrapped were, for aught they coude teche.
            • Thise ladies ne thise gentils, nevertheles,260
            • Were noon of tho that wroughten in this wyse ;
            • But swiche filthes as were vertules
            • They quitten thus thise olde clerkeswyse .
            • Toclerkes forthy lesse may suffyse
            • Than to deprave wommen generally;265
            • For worship shul they gete noon therby.
            • If that thise men, that lovers hem pretende,
            • To wommen weren feythful, gode , and trewe,
            • And dredde hem to deceyven or offende,
            • Wommen to love hem wolde nat eschewe.270
            • But every day hath man an herte newe;
            • It upon oon abyde can no whyle.[ ]
            • What fors is it, swich a wight to begyle?
            • Men beren eek thise wommen upon honde
            • That lightly, and withouten any peyne,275
            • They wonne been ; they can no wight withstonde
            • That his disese list to hem compleyne.
            • They been so freel, they mowe hem nat refreyne;
            • But who-so lyketh may hem lightly have;
            • So been hir hertes esy in to grave.280
            • To maister Iohn de Meun , as I suppose,
            • Than it was a lewd occupacioun
            • In making of the Romance of the Rose;
            • So many a sly imaginacioun
            • And perils for to rollen up and doun,285
            • So long proces , so many a sly cautele
            • For to deceyve a sely damosele !
            • Nat can I seen, ne my wit comprehende
            • That art and peyne and sotiltee sholde fayle
            • For to conquére, and sone make an ende,290
            • Whan man a feble place shal assayle ;
            • And sone also to venquisshe a batayle
            • Of which no wight dar maken resistence,
            • Ne herte hath noon to stonden at defence.
            • How frendly was Medea to Jasoun[ ]
            • In the conquéring of the flees of gold !
            • How falsly quitte he her affeccioun
            • By whom victórie he gat , as he hath wold !305
            • How may this man, for shame, be so bold
            • To falsen her , that from his dethe and shame
            • Him kepte , and gat him so gret prys and name?
            • Of Troye also the traitour Eneas,[ ]
            • The feythles wrecche , how hath he him forswore310
            • To Dido, that queen of Cartágë was,
            • That him releved of his smertes sore!
            • What gentilesse might she han doon more
            • Than she with herte unfeyned to him kidde?
            • And what mischeef to her ther-of betidde!315
            • In my Legende of Martres men may fynde[ ]
            • (Who-so that lyketh therin for to rede)
            • That ooth noon ne behest may no man bynde;
            • Of reprevable shame han they no drede.
            • In mannes herte trouthe hath no stede;320
            • The soil is noght, ther may no trouthe growe!
            • To womman namely it is nat unknowe.
            • Clerkes seyn also: ‘ther is no malyce
            • Unto wommannes crabbed wikkednesse !’
            • O woman! How shalt thou thy-self chevyce,325
            • Sin men of thee so muchel harm witnesse?
            • No fors ! Do forth! Takë no hevinesse!
            • Kepë thyn ownë, what men clappe or crake;
            • And somme of hem shul smerte , I undertake!
            • Malyce of wommen, what is it to drede?330
            • They slee no men, distroyen no citees;
            • They not oppressen folk ne overlede,
            • Betraye empyres, remes, ne duchees,
            • Ne men bereve hir landes ne hir mees,
            • Empoyson folk , ne houses sette on fyre,335
            • Ne false contractes maken for non hyre!
            • Trust, perfit love, and entere charitee,
            • Fervent wil, and entalented corage
            • To thewes gode, as it sit wel to be,
            • Han wommen ay, of custome and usage;340
            • And wel they can a mannes ire aswage
            • With softe wordes discreet and benigne;
            • What they be inward, sheweth

              Explicit litera Cupidinis, dei amoris, directa suis subditis amatoribus.

              Colophon. D.T. amatoribus; F.om.B.has—The lettre of Cupide, god of love, directed to his suggestys louers.

              VI.

              TO THE KINGES MOST NOBLE GRACE; AND TO THE LORDES AND KNIGHTES OF THE GARTER.

              Cestes Balades ensuyantes feurent faites au tres noble Roy Henry le quint (que dieu pardoint!) et au tres honourable conpaignie du Jarter.

              I.

              From P. (Phillipps 8151); also in Ed. (ed. 1542).

                • TO you, welle of honour and worthinesse,
                • Our Cristenking , the heir and successour
                • Un-to Justinians devout tendrenesse
                • In the feith of Jesu, our redemptour;
                • And to you, lordes of the Garter , ‘flour5
                • Of chevalrye ,’ as men you clepe and calle;
                • The lord of vertu and of grace auctour
                • Graunte the fruit of your loos never appalle!
                • O lige lord, that han eek the lyknesse
                • Of Constantyn , th’ensaumple and the mirour10
                • To princes alle, in love and buxumnesse
                • To holy chirche, O verray sustenour
                • And piler of our feith, and werreyour
                • Ageyn the heresyës bitter galle,[ ]
                • Do forth , do forth , continue your socour!15
                • Hold up Cristes baner; lat it nat falle!
                • This yle, or this, had been but hethenesse,
                • Nad been of your feith the force and vigour![ ]
                • And yit, this day, the feendes fikilnesse
                • Weneth fully to cacche a tyme and hour20
                • To have on us, your liges, a sharp shour,
                • And to his servitude us knitte and thralle.
                • But ay we truste in you, our prótectour;
                • On your constaunce we awayten alle.
                • Commandeth that no wight have hardinesse,25
                • O worthy king, our Cristen emperour,
                • Of the feith to despute more or lesse
                • Openly among people, wher errour
                • Springeth al day and engendreth rumour.
                • Maketh swich lawe, and for aught may befalle,30[ ]
                • Observe it wel; ther-to be ye dettour.
                • Doth so, and god in glorie shal you stalle.

              II.

                • Ye lordes eek, shyninge in noble fame,
                • To whiche appropred is the maintenaunce
                • Of Cristes cause; in honour of his name35
                • Shove on, and putte his foos to the outrance!
                • God wolde so; so wolde eek your ligeaunce;[ ]
                • To tho two prikketh you your duëtee .
                • Who-so nat kepeth this double observaunce
                • Of merit and honour naked is he!40
                • Your style seith that ye ben foos to shame;
                • Now kythe of your feith the perséveraunce,
                • In which an heep of us arn halte and lame.
                • Our Cristen king of England and of Fraunce,
                • And ye , my lordes, with your alliaunce,45
                • And other feithful people that ther be
                • (Truste I to god) shul quenche al this nuisaunce[ ]
                • And this land sette in hy prosperitee.
                • Conquest of hy prowesse is for to tame
                • The wilde woodnesse of this mescreaunce ;50
                • Right to the rote repe ye that same!
                • Slepe nat this, but, for goddes plesaunce[ ]
                • And his modres, and in signifiaunce
                • That ye ben of seint Georges liveree,
                • Doth him servyce and knightly obeisaunce;55
                • For Cristes cause is his, wel knowen ye!
                • Stif stande in that, and yeshul greve and grame[ ]
                • The fo to pees, thenorice of distaunce ;
                • That now is ernest, torne it into game;
                • Dampnáble fro feith werë variaunce![ ]60
                • Lord lige, and lordes, have in rémembraunce,
                • Lord of al is the blessed Trinitee,
                • Of whos vertu the mighty habundaunce
                • You herte and strengthe in feithful unitee! Amen.[ ]

              Cest tout.

              VII.

              A MORAL BALADE.

              Here foloweth next a Moral Balade, to my lord the Prince, to my lord of Clarence, to my lord of Bedford, and to my lord of Gloucestre, by Henry Scogan; at a souper of feorthe merchande in the Vyntre in London, at the hous of Lowys Johan.

              From Th. (Thynne, ed. 1542 ): collated with A. (Ashmole 59), and Cx. (Caxton); readings also given from H. (Harl. 2251).

              Title;from A. (which has folowethe nexst); Cx.has Here next foloweth a tretyse, whiche John Skogan sente vnto the lordes and gentilmen of the kynges hows, exortyng them to lose no tyme in theyr yougthe, but to vse vertues; Th.has Scogan vnto the lordes and gentylmen of the kynges house.

                • Of whiche I aske mercy of thee, lord ,
                • That art almighty god in majestè,
                • Beseking thee, to make so even accord
                • Betwix thee and my soule, that vanitè20
                • Of worldly lust, ne blynd prosperitè
                • Have no lordship over my flesshe so frele .
                • Thou lord of reste and parfit unitè,
                • Put fro me vyce, and keep my soules hele.
                • And yeve me might, whyl I have lyf and space,25
                • Me to conforme fully to thy plesaunce;
                • Shewe upon me th’abundaunce of thy grace,
                • In gode werkes graunt me perséveraunce.
                • Of al my youthe forget the ignoraunce;
                • Yeve me good wil, to serve thee ay to queme ;30
                • Set al my lyf after thyn ordinaunce,
                • And able me to mercy, or thou deme!
                • My lordes dere, why I this complaint wryte
                • To you, alle whom I love entierly ,
                • Is for to warne you, as I can endyte,35
                • That tyme y-lost in youthe folily
                • Greveth a wight goostly and bodily ,
                • I mene hem that to lust and vyce entende.
                • Wherfore, I pray you, lordes , specially,
                • Your youthe in vertue shapeth to dispende.40
                • Planteth the rote of youthe in suche a wyse
                • That in vertue your growing be alway;
                • Loke ay , goodnesse be in your exercyse,
                • That shal you mighty make, at eche assay,
                • The feend for to withstonde at eche affray.45
                • Passeth wysly this perilous pilgrimage,
                • Thinke on this word, and werke it every day;
                • That shal you yeve a parfit floured age.
                • Taketh also hede, how that these noble clerkes
                • Write in hir bokes of gret sapience,50
                • Saying, that fayth is deed withouten werkes;[ ]
                • So is estat withoute intelligence
                • Of vertue; and therfore, with diligence,
                • Shapeth of vertue so to plante the rote,
                • That ye therof have ful experience,55
                • To worship of your lyfe and soules bote.[ ]
                • Taketh also hede, that lordship ne estat,
                • Withoute vertue, may not longe endure;
                • Thinketh eek how vyce and vertue at debat
                • Have been, and shal, whyles the world may dure;60
                • And ay the vicious, by aventure,
                • Is overthrowe; and thinketh evermore
                • That god is lord of vertue and figure
                • Of al goodnesse; and therfore folowe his lore.
                • Here may ye see that vertuous noblesse
                • Cometh not to you by way of auncestrye,
                • But it cometh thorugh leefful besinesse75
                • Of honest lyfe, and not by slogardrye.
                • Wherfore in youthe I rede you edefye
                • The hous of vertue in so wys manere
                • That in your age it may you kepe and gye
                • Fro the tempest of worldly wawes here.80
                • Thinkethhow, betwixë vertue and estat
                • There is a parfit blessed mariage;
                • Vertue is cause of pees, vyce of debat
                • In mannes soule; for which, with ful corage,
                • Cherissheth vertue , vyces to outrage:85
                • Dryveth hem away; let hem have no wonning
                • In your soules; leseth not the heritage
                • Which god hath yeve to vertuous living.
                • Taketh hede also, how men of povre degree
                • Through vertue have be set in greet honour,90
                • And ever have lived in greet prosperitee
                • Through cherisshing of vertuous labour.
                • Thinketh also, how many a governour
                • Called to estat, hath oft be set ful lowe
                • Through misusing of right, and for errour,95
                • Therfore I counsaile you, vertue to knowe.
                • The firste stok, fader ofgentilesse ,105[ ]
                • What man that claymeth gentil for to be
                • Must folowe his trace, and alle his wittes dresse
                • Vertu to sewe, and vyces for to flee.
                • For unto vertu longeth dignitee,
                • And noght the revers, saufly dar I deme,110
                • Al were he mytre, croune, or diademe.
                • This firste stok was ful of rightwisnesse,
                • Trewe of his word, sobre, pitous, and free,
                • Clene of his goste, and loved besinesse
                • Ageinst the vyce of slouthe, in honestee;115
                • And, but his heir love vertu, as dide he,
                • He is noght gentil, though he riche seme,
                • Al were he mytre, croune, or diademe.
                • Vyce may wel be heir to old richesse;
                • But ther may no man, as men may wel see,120
                • Bequethe his heir his vertuous noblesse;
                • That is appropred unto no degree,
                • But to the firste fader in magestee
                • That maketh him his heir, that can him queme,
                • Al were he mytre, croune, or diademe.125
                • Seeth , there-ayenst, how vertuous noblesse
                • Roted in youthe , with good perséveraunce,
                • Dryveth away al vyce and wrecchednesse,160
                • As slogardrye, ryote and distaunce!
                • Seeth eek how vertue causeth suffisaunce,
                • And suffisaunce exyleth coveityse![ ]
                • And who hath vertue hath al abundaunce
                • Of wele, as fer as reson can devyse.165
                • Rede, here-ayenst, of Nero vertulees;[ ]
                • Taketh hede also of proude Balthasar;175
                • They hated vertue, equitee, and pees.
                • Loke how Antiochus fil fro his char ,
                • That he his skin and bones al to-tar !
                • Loke what meschauncë they had for hir vyces!
                • Who-so that wol not by these signes be war ,180
                • I dar wel say, infortunat or nyce is.

              Explicit.

              Colophon.Cx. Thus endeth the traytye wiche John Skogan sent to the lordes and estates of the kynges hous.

              VIII.

              JOHN LYDGATE.

              THE COMPLAINT OF THE BLACK KNIGHT; OR, THE COMPLAINT OF A LOVERES LYFE.

              From Th. (Thynne, ed. 1532); collated with F. (Fairfax 16); B. (Bodley 638, imperfect); T. (Tanner 346); D. (Digby 181); S. (Arch. Selden B. 24); I have also consulted Ad. (Addit. 16165); and P. (Pepys 2006).

                • IN May, whan Flora, the fresshe lusty quene,
                • The soile hath clad in grene, rede , and whyte,
                • And Phebus gan to shede his stremes shene
                • Amid the Bole , with al the bemes brighte,
                • And Lucifer, to chace awey the night,5
                • Ayen the morowe our orizont hath take
                • To bidde lovers out of hir sleepe awake,
                • And hertes hevy for to recomforte
                • From dreriheed of hevy nightes sorowe,
                • Nature bad hem ryse, and hem disporte,10
                • Ayen the goodly, gladde, greye morowe;
                • And Hope also, with seint Johan to borowe,
                • Bad , in dispyt of daunger and dispeyre,
                • For to take the hoolsom lusty eyre:
                • And with a sigh I gan for to abreyde15[ ]
                • Out of my slombre, and sodainly up sterte
                • As he, alas! that nigh for sorowe deyde,
                • My sekenes sat ay so nigh my herte.
                • But, for to finde socour of my smerte,
                • Or at the leste som réles of my peyne,20
                • That me so sore halt in every veyne,[ ]
                • Had dryed up the lusty licour newe
                • Upon the herbes in the grene mede,30
                • And that the floures, of many dyvers hewe,
                • Upon hir stalkes gonne for to sprede
                • And for to splaye[n] out hir leves on-brede[ ]
                • Agayn the sonne, gold-burned in his spere,
                • That doun to hem caste his bemes clere.35
                • And by a river forth I gan costey[ ]
                • Of water clere as berel or cristal
                • Til at the laste I found a litel wey
                • Toward a park, enclosed with a wal
                • In compas rounde, and by a gate smal40
                • Who-so that wolde frely mighte goon
                • Into this park , walled with grene stoon.
                • The soil was playn, smothe, and wonder softe50
                • Al oversprad with tapites that Nature
                • Had mad her-selve , celured eek alofte
                • With bowes grene, the floures for to cure,[ ]
                • That in hir beautè they may longe endure
                • From al assaut of Phebus fervent fere,55
                • Whiche in his spere so hote shoon and clere.
                • I saw ther Daphne , closed under rinde,
                • Grene laurer, and the hoolsom pyne;65
                • The myrre also, that wepeth ever of kinde;
                • The cedres hye, upright as a lyne;[ ]
                • The philbert eek, that lowe doth enclyne[ ]
                • Her bowes grene to the erthe adoun
                • Unto her knight, y-called Demophoun.70
                • The gravel gold , the water pure as glas ,
                • The bankes rounde, the welle envyroning;
                • And softe as veluët the yonge gras80
                • That therupon lustilycam springing ;
                • The sute of trees aboute compassing[ ]
                • Hir shadowe caste, closing the welle rounde,
                • And al the herbes growing on the grounde.
                • The water was so hoolsom and vertuous85
                • Through might of herbes growing there besyde,
                • Not lyk the welle, wher-as Narcisus[ ]
                • Y-slayn was, through vengeaunce of Cupyde ,
                • Where so covertly he didë hyde
                • The grayn of cruel dethe upon ech brinke,90[ ]
                • That deeth mot folowe, who that ever drinke;
                • Ne lyk the pittë of the Pegacè
                • Under Pernaso, where poetës slepte;
                • Nor lyk the welle of pure chastitè
                • Which thatDyane with her nymphes kepte,95
                • Whan she naked into the water lepte,
                • That slow Acteon with his houndes felle
                • Only for he cam so nigh the welle!
                • Bút this welle, that I here reherce,
                • So hoolsom was, that it wolde aswage100
                • Bollen hertes, and the venim perce
                • Of pensifheed , with al the cruel rage,
                • And evermore refresshe the visage[ ]
                • Of hem that were in any werinesse
                • Of greet labour, or fallen in distresse.105
                • And I, that had, through daunger and disdayne,
                • So drye a thrust , thoughte I wolde assaye[ ]
                • To taste a draughte of this welle, or twayne,
                • My bitter langour if it mighte alaye;
                • And on the banke anon adoun I lay,110
                • And with myn heed unto the welle I raughte,
                • And of the water drank I a good draughte;
                • Wherof, me thought, I was refresshed wele[ ]
                • Of the brenning that sat so nigh my herte,
                • That verily anon I gan to fele115
                • An huge part relesed of my smerte;
                • And therwithallë anon up I sterte,
                • And thoughte I wolde walke, and see more
                • Forth in the parke, and in the holtes hore.
                • And through a laundë as I yede a-pace120
                • And gan aboute faste to beholde,
                • I found anon a délitable place
                • That was beset with treës yonge and olde,
                • Whose names here for me shal not be tolde;
                • Amidde of whiche stood an herber grene,125
                • That benched was, with colours newe and clene.
                • Thís herber was ful of flouresinde ,
                • In-to the whiche as I beholde gan,
                • Betwix an hulfere and a wodëbinde,
                • As I was war, I saw wher lay a man130
                • In blakke and whyte colour , pale and wan,
                • And wonder deedly also of his hewe,
                • Of hurtes grene and fresshe woundes newe.
                • And overmore distrayned with sekenesse,
                • Besyde al this, he was, ful grevously;135
                • For upon him he had an hoot accesse ,
                • That day by day him shook ful pitously;
                • So that, for constreynt of his malady
                • And hertly wo, thus lying al alone,
                • It was a deeth for to here him grone.140
                • Wherof astonied, my foot I gan withdrawe,
                • Greetly wondring what it mighte be
                • That he so lay, and hadde no felawe,
                • Ne that I coude no wight with him see;
                • Wherof I hadde routhe, and eek pitè,145
                • And gan anon, so softely as I coude,
                • Among the busshes me prively to shroude;
                • If that I mighte in any wyse espye
                • What was the cause of his deedly wo,
                • Or why that he so pitously gan crye150
                • On his fortune, and on hisure also;
                • With al my might I layde an ere to,
                • Every word to marke, what he seyde,
                • Out of his swough among as he abrayde.[ ]
                • But first, if I shulde make mencioun155
                • Of his persone, and plainly him discryve,
                • He was in sothe, without excepcioun,
                • To speke of manhode, oon the best on-lyve;
                • Ther may no man ayen the trouthe stryve.
                • For of his tyme, and of his age also160
                • He proved was, ther men shulde have ado ,
                • For oon the beste there , of brede and lengthe
                • So wel y-mad by good proporcioun,
                • If he had be in his deliver strengthe;
                • But thought and seknesse were occasioun165
                • That he thus lay, in lamentacioun,
                • Gruffe on the grounde, in place desolat,
                • Sole by him-self, awhaped and amat.[ ]
                • And, for me semeth that it is sitting
                • His wordes al to putte in remembraunce,170
                • To me, that herdë al his complayning
                • And al the groundë of his woful chaunce,
                • If ther-withal I may you do plesaunce,
                • I wol to you, so as I can, anon,
                • Lyk as he sayde, reherce hem everichon.175
                • But who shal helpe me now to complayne?
                • Or who shal now my style gye or lede?[ ]
                • O Niobè , let now thy teres rayne
                • In-to my penne; and helpe eek in this nede,
                • Thou woful Mirre, that felest my herte blede180
                • Of pitous wo, and myn hand eek quake
                • Whan that I wryte, for this mannes sake!
                • For unto wo accordeth complayning
                • And doleful cherë unto hevinesse;
                • To sorowe also, syghing and weping,185
                • And pitous mourning, unto drerinesse;
                • And whoso that shal wryten of distresse
                • In party nedeth to knowe felingly
                • Cause and rote of al such malady.
                • But I, alas! that am of witte but dulle,190
                • And have no knowing of such matere,
                • For to discryve and wryten at the fulle
                • The woful complaynt, which that ye shal here,
                • But even-lyk as doth a skrivenere
                • That can no more what that he shal wryte,195
                • But as his maister besyde doth endyte;
                • Right so fare I, that of no sentement
                • Saye right naught, as in conclusioun,
                • But as I herde, whan I was present,
                • This man complayne with a pitous soun;200
                • For even-lyk, without addicioun
                • Or disencrees , either more or lesse,
                • For to reherce anon I wol me dresse.
                • And if that any now be in this place
                • That fele in love brenning or fervence,205
                • Or hindred werë to his lady grace
                • With false tonges, that with pestilence
                • Slee trewe men that never did offence
                • In word nor dede, ne in hir entent—
                • If any suche be here now present,210
                • Let him of routhe lay to audience,
                • With doleful chere and sobre countenaunce,
                • To here this man, by ful high sentence,
                • His mortal wo and his gret perturbaunce
                • Cómplayning, now lying in a traunce,215
                • With lokes upcaste, and with ruful chere,
                • Th’ effect of whiche was as ye shal here.—

              Compleynt.

              Compleynt;inF.only.

                • THE thought oppressed with inward sighes sore,
                • The painful lyf, the body languisshing,
                • The woful gost, the herte rent and tore,220
                • The pitous chere, pale in compleyning,
                • The deedly face, lyk ashes in shyning,
                • The salte teres that fro myn eyën falle,
                • Parcel declare grounde of my peynes alle:
                • Whos herte is grounde to blede in hevinesse;225
                • The thought, resceyt of wo and of complaynt;
                • The brest is cheste of dole and drerinesse;
                • The body eek so feble and so faynt;
                • With hote and colde myn acces is so meynt,[ ]
                • That now I chiver for defaute of hete,230
                • And, hoot as gleed, now sodainly I swete.
                • Now hoot as fyr, now cold as asshes dede,
                • Now hoot fro cold, now cold fro hete agayn;
                • Now cold as ys , now as coles rede
                • For hete I brenne; and thus, betwixe twayne,235
                • I possed am, and al forcast in payne;
                • So that my hete plainly, as I fele,
                • Of grevous cold is causë, every-deel.
                • This is the cold of inward high disdayne ,
                • Cold of dispyt, and cold of cruel hate;240
                • This is the cold that doth his besy payne
                • Ayeines trouthe to fighte and to debate.
                • This is the cold that wolde the fyr abate
                • Of trewe mening; alas! the harde whyle!
                • This is the cold that wolde me begyle.245
                • For ever the better that in trouthe I mente
                • With al my mighte faythfully to serve,
                • With herte and al for to be diligent,
                • The lesse thank, alas! I can deserve!
                • Thus for my trouthe Daunger doth me sterve.250
                • For oon that shulde my deeth, of mercy, lette
                • Hath mad despyt newe his swerd to whette
                • Ayeines me, and his arowes to fyle
                • To take vengeaunce of wilful crueltè;
                • And tonges false, through hir sleightly wyle,255
                • Han gonne a werre that wil not stinted be;
                • And fals Envye, Wrathe , and Enmitè,
                • Have conspired, ayeines al right and lawe,
                • Of hir malyce, that Trouthe shal be slawe.
                • And Male-Bouche gan first the tale telle ,260
                • To slaundre Trouthe, of indignacioun;
                • And Fals-Report so loude rong the belle ,
                • That Misbeleve and Fals-Suspeccioun,
                • Have Trouthe brought to his dampnacioun,
                • So that, alas! wrongfully he dyeth,265
                • And Falsnes now his placë occupyeth,
                • And entred is in-to Trouthes lond ,
                • And hath therof the ful possessioun.
                • O rightful god, that first the trouthe fond ,
                • How may thou suffre such oppressioun,270
                • That Falshood shulde have jurisdiccioun
                • In Trouthes right, to slee him giltëlees?
                • In his fraunchyse he may not live in pees.
                • Falsly accused, and of his foon forjuged ,
                • Without answere, whyl he was absent,275
                • He dampned was, and may not ben excused,
                • For Crueltè sat in jugëment
                • Of hastinesse, withoute avysëment,
                • And bad Disdayn do execute anon
                • His jugëment, in presence of his foon.280
                • Attourney noon ne may admitted been
                • T’ëxcuse Trouthë, ne a word to speke;
                • To fayth or ooth the juge list not seen,
                • There is no gayn, but he wil be wreke.
                • O lord of trouthe, to thee I calle and clepe ;285
                • How may thou see, thus in thy presence,
                • Withoute mercy, murdred innocence?
                • Now god, that art of trouthe soverain
                • And seëst how I lye for trouthe bounde,
                • So sore knit in loves fyry chain290
                • Even at the deth, through-girt with many a wounde
                • That lykly are never for to sounde,
                • And for my trouthe am dampned to the deeth,
                • And not abyde, but drawe along the breeth:
                • Consider and see, in thyn eternal right,295
                • How that myn herte professed whylom was
                • For to be trewe with al my fulle might
                • Only to oon , the whiche now, alas!
                • Of voluntè, withoute any trespas,
                • Myn accusours hath taken unto grace,300
                • And cherissheth hem, my deth for to purchace.
                • What meneth this? what is this wonder ure
                • Of purveyauncë , if I shal it calle ,
                • Of god of love, that false hem so assure,
                • And trewe, alas! doun of the whele ben falle ?305[ ]
                • And yet in sothe, this is the worst of alle ,
                • That Falshed wrongfully of Trouthe hath name ,
                • And Trouthe ayenward of Falshed bereth the blame .
                • This blinde chaunce, this stormy aventure,
                • In lovë hath most his experience;310
                • For who that doth with trouthe most his cure
                • Shal for his mede finde most offence,
                • That serveth love with al his diligence;
                • For who can faynë, under lowliheed ,
                • Ne fayleth not to finde grace and speed .315
                • For I loved oon, ful longë sith agoon,
                • With al my herte, body, and ful might,
                • And, to be deed, my herte can not goon
                • From his hest, but holde that he hath hight;
                • Though I be banisshed out of her sight,320
                • And by her mouth dampned that I shal deye,
                • To my behest yet I wil ever obeye.
                • For ever, sithë that the world began,
                • Who-so list lokë, and in storie rede,
                • He shal ay finde that the trewe man325
                • Was put abakke, wher-as the falshede
                • Y-furthered was; for Love taketh non hede
                • To slee the trewe, and hath of hem no charge,
                • Wher-as the false goth freely at hir large.
                • I take recorde of Palamides ,330
                • The trewe man, the noble worthy knight,
                • That ever loved, and of his payn no relees;
                • Notwithstonding his manhood and his might
                • Love unto him did ful greet unright;
                • For ay the bet he did in chevalrye,335
                • The more he was hindred by envye.
                • And ay the bet he did in every place
                • Through his knighthood and his besy payne,
                • The ferther was he from his lady grace,
                • For to her mercy mighte he never attayne;340
                • And to his deth he coude it not refrayne
                • For no daungere, but ay obey and serve
                • As he best coude, plainly, til he sterve.
                • What was the fyne also of Hercules ,
                • For al his conquest and his worthinesse,345
                • That was of strengthe alone pereles ?
                • For, lyk as bokes of him list expresse,
                • He sette pillers, through his hy prowesse,
                • Away at Gades , for to signifye[ ]
                • That no man mighte him passe in chevalrye.350
                • The whiche pillers ben ferre beyonde Inde
                • Beset of golde, for a remembraunce;
                • And, for al that, was he set behinde
                • With hem that Love liste febly avaunce;[ ]
                • For [he ] him sette last upon a daunce,355
                • Ageynes whom helpe may no stryf;
                • For al his trouthe, yit he loste his lyf.
                • Phebus also, for al his persaunt light,
                • Whan that he wente here in erthe lowe,
                • Unto the herte with fresh Venus sight360
                • Y-wounded was, through Cupydes bowe,
                • And yet his lady liste him not to knowe.
                • Though for her love his herte didë blede,
                • She leet him go, and took of him no hede.
                • What shal I saye of yonge Piramus ?365
                • Of trew Tristram , for al his hye renoun?
                • Of Achilles, or of Antonius ?
                • Of Arcite eke , or of him Palemoun?[ ]
                • What was the endë of hir passioun
                • But, after sorowe, deeth, and than hir grave?370
                • Lo, here the guerdon tha these lovers have!
                • But false Jason , with his doublenesse,
                • That was untrewe at Colkos to Medee,
                • And Theseus , rote of unkindënesse,
                • And with these two eek the false Enee;375
                • Lo! thus the falsë, ay in oon degrè,
                • Had in love hir lust and al hir wille;
                • And, save falshood , ther was non other skille.
                • Of Thebes eek the false [knight ] Arcyte,
                • And Demophonalso , for [al ] his slouthe,380[ ]
                • They had hir lust and al that might delyte
                • For al hir falshode and hir greet untrouthe.
                • Thus ever Love (alas! and that is routhe!)
                • His false leges forthereth what he may,
                • And sleeth the trewe ungoodly, day by day.385
                • For trewe Adon was slayn with the bore[ ]
                • Amid the forest, in the grene shade;
                • For Venus love he feltë al the sore.
                • But Vulcanus with her no mercy made;
                • The foule chorl had many nightes glade,390
                • Wher Mars, her worthy knight, her trewe man,
                • To finde mercy, comfort noon he can.
                • Also the yonge fresshe Ipomenes[ ]
                • So lusty free [was ], as of his corage,
                • That for to serve with al his herte he chees395
                • Athalans, so fair of hir visage;
                • But Love, alas! quitte him so his wage
                • With cruel daunger plainly, at the laste,
                • That, with the dethe, guerdonles he paste.
                • Lo! here the fyne of loveres servyse!400
                • Lo! how that Love can his servaunts quyte!
                • Lo! how he can his faythful men despyse,
                • To slee the trewe , and false to respyte!
                • Lo! how he doth the swerd of sorowe byte
                • In hertes, suche as most his lust obeye,405
                • To save the false, and do the trewe deye!
                • For fayth nor ooth , word, ne assuraunce,
                • Trewe mening, awayte, or besinesse,
                • Stille port , ne faythful attendaunce,
                • Manhood, ne might, in armes worthinesse,410
                • Pursute of worship, nor no hy prowesse,
                • In straunge lande ryding, ne travayle,[ ]
                • Ful lyte or nought in lovë doth avayle.
                • Peril of dethe, nother in see ne lande,
                • Hunger ne thurst, sorowe ne sekenesse ,415
                • Ne grete empryses for to take on hande,
                • Sheding of blode, ne manful hardinesse,
                • Ne ofte woundinge at sautes by distresse,
                • Nor †juparting of lyf, nor deeth also—[ ]
                • Al is for nought, Love taketh no hede therto!420
                • But lesings, with hir false flaterye,
                • Through hir falshede, and with hir doublenesse,
                • With tales newe and many fayned lye,
                • By fals semblaunt and counterfet humblesse,
                • Under colour depeynt with stedfastnesse,425
                • With fraude covered under a pitous face
                • Accepte been now rathest unto grace,
                • And can hem-selve now best magnifye
                • With fayned port and fals presumpcioun;
                • They haunce hir cause with fals surquedrye430
                • Under meninge of double entencioun,
                • To thenken oon in hir opinioun
                • And saye another; to sette hemselve alofte
                • And hinder trouthe, as it is seyn ful ofte.
                • The whiche thing I bye now al to dere,435
                • Thanked be Venus and the god Cupyde!
                • As it is sene by myn oppressed chere,
                • And by his arowes that stiken in my syde,
                • That, sauf the deth, I nothing abyde
                • Fro day to day; alas, the harde whyle!440
                • Whan ever his dart that him list to fyle,
                • My woful herte for to ryve a-two
                • For faute of mercy, and lak of pitè
                • Of her that causeth al my payne and wo
                • And list not ones, of grace, for to see445
                • Unto my trouthe through her crueltee;
                • And, most of alle, yit I me complayne,
                • That she hath joy to laughen at my peyne!
                • And wilfully hath [she ] my deeth y-sworn
                • Al giltëlees, and wot no cause why450
                • Save for the trouthe that I have had aforn
                • To her alone to serve faithfully!
                • O god of lovë ! unto thee I cry,
                • And to thy blinde double deitee
                • Of this gret wrongë I compleyne me,455
                • And to thy stormy wilful variaunce
                • Y-meynt with chaunge and greet unstablenesse;
                • Now up, now doun, so renning is thy chaunce,[ ]
                • That thee to truste may be no sikernesse.
                • I wyte it nothing but thy doublenesse;460
                • And who that is an archer and is †blent[ ]
                • Marketh nothing, but sheteth as he †went .[ ]
                • And for that he hath no discrecioun,
                • Withoute avys he let his arowe go;
                • For lakke of sight, and also of resoun,465
                • In his shetinge, it happeth ofte so,
                • To hurte his frend rather than his fo;
                • So doth this god, [and ] with his sharpe floon
                • The trewe sleeth, and let the false goon.
                • And of his wounding this is the worst of alle,470
                • Whan he hurteth, he doth so cruel wreche
                • And maketh the seke for to crye and calle
                • Unto his fo, for to been his leche;
                • And hard it is, for a man to seche,
                • Upon the point of dethe in jupardye ,475
                • Unto his fo, to finde remedye!
                • Thus fareth it now even by me,
                • That to my fo, that yaf myn herte a wounde,
                • Mote aske grace, mercy, and pitè,
                • And namëly, ther wher non may be founde!480[ ]
                • For now my sore my leche wil confounde,
                • And god of kinde so hath set myn ure,
                • My lyves fo to have my wounde in cure!
                • Alas! the whyle now that I was born![ ]
                • Or that I ever saw the brighte sonne!485
                • For now I see, that ful longe aforn,
                • Or I was born, my desteny was sponne
                • By Parcassustren , to slee me, if they conne;
                • For they my deth shopen or my sherte
                • Only for trouthe! I may it not asterte.490
                • The mighty goddesse also of Nature
                • That under god hath the governaunce
                • Of worldly thinges committed to her cure,
                • Disposed hath , through her wys purveyaunce,
                • To yeve my lady so moche suffisaunce495
                • Of al vertues, and therwithal purvyde
                • To murdre trouthe, hath take Daunger to gyde.
                • For bountè, beautè, shappe, and semeliheed,
                • Prudence, wit, passingly fairnesse,
                • Benigne port, glad chere with lowliheed,500
                • Of womanheed right plenteous largesse ,
                • Nature did in her fully empresse,
                • Whan she her wroughte; and alther-last Disdayne,
                • To hinder trouthe, she made her chamberlayne;
                • Whan Mistrust also, and Fals-Suspeccioun,505
                • With Misbeleve, she made for to be
                • Cheef of counsayl to this conclusioun,
                • For to exyle Routhe , and eek Pitè,
                • Out of her court to make Mercy flee,
                • So that Dispyt now holdeth forth her reyne,510
                • Through hasty bileve of tales that men feyne.
                • And thus I am, for my trouthe, alas![ ]
                • Murdred and slayn with wordes sharpe and kene,
                • Giltlees , god wot, of al maner trespas,
                • And lye and blede upon this colde grene.515
                • Now mercy, swete! mercy, my lyves quene!
                • And to your grace of mercy yet I preye,
                • In your servyse that your man may deye!
                • But if so be that I shal deye algate,
                • And that I shal non other mercy have,520
                • Yet of my dethe let this be the date
                • That by your wille I was brought to my grave;
                • Or hastily, if that you list me save,
                • My sharpe woundes, that ake so and blede,
                • Of mercy, charme, and also of womanhede.525[ ]
                • For other charme, playnly, is ther non
                • But only mercy, to helpe in this case;
                • For though my woundes blede ever in oon,
                • My lyf, my deeth, standeth in youre grace;
                • And though my gilt be nothing, alas!530
                • I aske mercy in al my beste entente,
                • Redy to dye, if that ye assente.
                • For ther-ayeines shal I never stryve
                • In worde ne werke; playnly, I ne may;
                • For lever I have than to be alyve535
                • To dye soothly, and it be her to pay ;
                • Ye, though it be this eche same day
                • Or whan that ever her liste to devyse;
                • Suffyceth me to dye in your servyse.
                • And god, that knowest the thought of every wight540
                • Right as it is, in †al thing thou mayst see,
                • Yet, ere I dye, with all my fulle might
                • Lowly I pray, to graunte[n] unto me
                • That ye, goodly, fayre, fresshe, and free,
                • Which slee me only for defaute of routhe,545
                • Or that I dye, ye may knowe my trouthe.
                • For that, in sothe, suffyseth unto me,
                • And she it knowe in every circumstaunce;
                • And after, I am wel apayd that she
                • If that hir list, of dethe to do vengeaunce550
                • Untó me, that am under her legeaunce ;
                • It sit me not her doom to disobeye,
                • But, at her luste , wilfully to deye .
                • Withoute grucching or rebellioun
                • In wille or worde, hoolly I assent,555[ ]
                • Or any maner contradiccioun,
                • Fully to be at her commaundëment;
                • And, if I dyë, in my testament
                • My herte I sende, and my spirit also,
                • What-so-ever she list , with hem to do.560
                • And alder-last unto her womanhede
                • And to her mercy me I recommaunde,
                • That lye now here, betwixe hope and drede,
                • Abyding playnly what she list commaunde.
                • For utterly, (this nis no demaunde),565
                • Welcome to me , whyl me lasteth breeth,
                • Right at her choise, wher it be lyf or deeth!
                • In this matere more what mighte I seyn,
                • Sith in her hande and in her wille is al,
                • Both lyf and deeth, my joy and al my payn?570
                • And fynally, my heste holde I shal,
                • Til my spirit, by desteny fatal,
                • Whan that her liste , fro my body wende;
                • Have here my trouthe, and thus I make an ende!’
                • And with that worde he gan syke as sore575[ ]
                • Lyk as his herte ryve wolde atwayne,
                • And held his pees, and spak a word no more.
                • But, for to see his wo and mortal payne,
                • The teres gonne fro myn eyen rayne
                • Ful pitously, for very inward routhe580
                • That I him saw so languisshing for trouthe.
                • And al this whyle my-self I kepte cloos
                • Among the bowes, and my-self gan hyde,
                • Til, at the laste, the woful man aroos,
                • And to a logge wente ther besyde,585
                • Where, al the May, his custome was t’abyde,
                • Sole, to complaynen of his paynes kene,
                • Fro yeer to yere, under the bowes grene.
                • And for bicause that it drow to the night
                • And that the sonne his ark diurnál590
                • Y-passed was, so that his persaunt light,
                • His brighte bemes and his stremes al
                • Were in the wawes of the water fal,
                • Under the bordure of our ocëan,
                • His char of golde his cours so swiftly ran:595
                • And whyl the twylight and the rowes rede
                • Of Phebus light were dëaurat a lyte,
                • A penne I took, and gan me faste spede
                • The woful playntë of this man to wryte
                • Word by wordë, as he did endyte;600
                • Lyk as I herde, and coude him tho reporte,
                • I have here set, your hertes to disporte.
                • If ought be mis, layeth the wyte on me,
                • For I am worthy for to bere the blame
                • If any thing [here ] misreported be,605
                • To make this dytè for to seme lame
                • Through myn unconning; but, to sayn the same,
                • Lyk as this man his complaynt did expresse,
                • I aske mercy and forgivënesse.
                • And, as I wroot, me thoughte I saw a-ferre,610
                • Fer in the weste , lustely appere
                • Esperus , the goodly brighte sterre,
                • So glad, so fair, so persaunt eek of chere,
                • I mene Venus, with her bemes clere,
                • That, hevy hertes only to releve,615
                • Is wont, of custom, for to shewe at eve.
                • And I, as faste , fel doun on my knee
                • And even thus to her gan I to preye:—
                • ‘O lady Venus! so faire upon to see,
                • Let not this man for his trouthe deye,620
                • For that joy thou haddest whan thou leye[ ]
                • With Mars thy knight, whan Vulcanus you fond,
                • And with a chayne invisible you bond
                • Togider, bothe twayne, in the same whyle
                • That al the court above celestial625
                • At youre shame gan for to laughe and smyle!
                • A! fairë lady! welwilly founde at al,[ ]
                • Comfort to careful, O goddesse immortal!
                • Be helping now, and do thy diligence
                • To let the stremes of thyn influence630
                • Descende doun, in forthering of the trouthe,
                • Namely, of hem that lye in sorowe bounde;
                • Shew now thy might, and on hir wo have routhe
                • Er fals Daunger slee hem and confounde.
                • And specially, let thy might be founde635
                • For to socourë , what-so that thou may,
                • The trewe man that in the herber lay,
                • And alle trewe forther, for his sake,
                • O gladde sterre, O lady Venus myne!
                • And cause his lady him to grace take.640
                • Her herte of stele to mercy so enclyne,
                • Er that thy bemes go up, to declyne,
                • And er that thou now go fro us adoun,
                • Fór that love thou haddest to Adoun!’[ ]
                • And whan that she was gon unto her reste,645
                • I roos anon, and hoom to bedde wente,
                • For verily , me thoughte it for the beste ;
                • Prayinge thus, in al my best entente,
                • That alle trewe, that be with Daunger shente,
                • With mercy may, in reles of hir payn,650
                • Recured be, er May come eft agayn.
                • And for that I ne may no lenger wake,
                • Farewel, ye lovers alle, that be trewe!
                • Praying to god; and thus my leve I take,
                • That, er the sonne to-morowe be risen newe,655
                • And er he have ayein his rosen hewe,
                • That eche of you may have suche a grace,
                • His owne lady in armes to embrace.
                • I mene thus, that , in al honestee,
                • Withoute more, ye may togider speke660
                • What so ye listë, at good libertee,
                • That eche may to other hir herte breke,
                • On Jelousyë only to be wreke,[ ]
                • That hath so longe, of malice and envye,
                • Werreyed Trouthe with his tirannye.665

              Lenvoy.

                • Princesse, plese it your benignitee
                • This litel dytè for to have in mynde!
                • Of womanhedë also for to see
                • Your trewe man may youre mercy finde;
                • And Pitè eek, that long hath be behinde,670
                • Let him ayein be próvoked to grace;
                • For, by my trouthe, it is ayeines kinde,
                • Fals Daunger for to occupye his place!
                • Go, litel quayre, unto my lyves queen,
                • And my very hertes soverayne;675
                • And be right glad; for she shal thee seen;
                • Suche is thy grace! But I, alas! in payne
                • Am left behinde, and not to whom to playne.
                • For Mercy, Routhe, Grace, and eek Pitè
                • Exyled be, that I may not attayne680
                • Recure to finde of myn adversitè.

              Explicit.

              IX.

              THE FLOUR OF CURTESYE.

              From Th. (Thynne, ed. 1532). Title: Th. The Floure of Curtesy; (ed. 1561 adds—made by Ihon Lidgate). I note here the rejected spellings.

                • IN Fevrier , whan the frosty mone
                • Was horned, ful of Phebus fyry light,
                • And that she gan to reyse her stremes sone,
                • Saint Valentyne ! upon thy blisful night
                • Of duëtee , whan glad is every wight,5
                • And foules chese (to voyde hir olde sorowe)
                • Everich his make, upon the nexte morowe;
                • The same tyme, I herde a larke singe
                • Ful lustely, agayn the morowe gray—
                • ‘Awake, ye lovers, out of your slombringe,10
                • This gladde morowe, in al the haste ye may;
                • Some óbservaunce doth unto this day,
                • Your choise ayen of herte to renewe
                • In cónfirming, for ever to be trewe!
                • And ye that be, of chesing , at your large,15
                • This lusty day, by custome of nature,
                • Take upon you the blisful holy charge
                • To serve lovë, whyl your lyf may dure,
                • With herte, body, and al your besy cure,
                • For evermore, as Venus and Cipryde20[ ]
                • For you disposeth, and the god Cupyde.
                • For joye owe we playnly to obeye
                • Unto this lordes mighty ordinaunce,
                • And, mercilesse, rather for to deye
                • Than ever in you be founden variaunce;25
                • And, though your lyf be medled with grevaunce,
                • And, at your herte, closed be your wounde,
                • Beth alway one, ther-as ye are bounde!’
                • Thát whan I had herd , and listed longe,
                • With devout herte, the lusty melodye30
                • Of this hevenly comfortable songe
                • So ágreable, as by harmonye ,
                • I roos anon, and faste gan me hye
                • Toward a grove, and the way [gan ] take
                • Foules to sene, everich chese his make.35
                • And yet I was ful thursty in languisshing;
                • Myn ague was so fervent in his hete,
                • Whan Aurora , for drery complayning,
                • Can distille her cristal teres wete
                • Upon the soile, with silver dewe so swete;40
                • For she [ne ] durste, for shame, not apere
                • Under the light of Phebus bemes clere.
                • And so, for anguisshe of my paynes kene,
                • And for constraynte of my sighes sore,
                • I sette me doun under a laurer grene45
                • Ful pitously; and alway more and more,
                • As I beheld into the holtes hore,
                • I gan complayne myn inward deedly smerte,
                • That ay so sore †crampisshed myn herte.
                • But man aloon , alas! the harde stounde!
                • Ful cruelly, by kyndes ordinaunce,65
                • Constrayned is, and by statut bounde,
                • And debarred from alle such plesaunce.
                • What meneth this? What is this purveyaunce
                • Of god above, agayn al right of kynde,
                • Withoute cause, so narowe man to bynde?’70
                • Thus may I [soothly] seen , and playne, alas!
                • My woful houre and my disaventure,
                • That dolefully stonde in the same cas
                • So fer behyndë, from al helth and cure.
                • My wounde abydeth lyk a sursanure ;75
                • For me Fortune so felly list dispose,
                • My harm is hid, that I dar not disclose.
                • For I my herte have set in suche a place
                • Wher I am never lykly for to spede;
                • So fer I am hindred from her grace80
                • That, save daunger, I have non other mede.
                • And thus, alas! I not who shal me rede
                • Ne for myn helpe shape remedye,
                • For Male-bouche , and for false Envye:
                • The whiche twayne ay stondeth in my wey85
                • Maliciously; and Fals Suspeccioun
                • Is very causë also that I dey,
                • Ginning and rote of my distruccioun ;
                • So that I fele, [as ] in conclusioun ,
                • Wíth hir traynes that they wol me shende,90
                • Of my labour that deth mot make an ende!
                • Yet, or I dye, with herte, wil, and thought
                • To god of lovë this avowe I make,
                • (As I best can, how dere that it be bought,
                • Wher-so it be, that I slepe or wake,95
                • WhylBoreasdoth the leves shake)
                • As I have hight, playnly, til I sterve,
                • For wele or wo, that I shal [ay ] her serve.
                • And, for her sake, now this holy tyme,
                • Saint Valentyne! somwhat shal I wryte100
                • Al-though so be that I can not ryme,
                • Nor curiously by no crafte endyte,
                • Yet lever I have, that she putte the wyte
                • In unconning than in negligence,
                • What-ever I sayë of her excellence.105
                • ¶ Right by example as the somer-sonne
                • Passeth the sterre with his bemes shene,
                • And Lucifer among the skyës donne115
                • A-morowe sheweth to voyde nightes tene,
                • So verily, withouten any wene,
                • My lady passeth (who-so taketh hede)
                • Al tho alyve, to speke of womanhede.
                • And as the ruby hath the soveraintè120
                • Of riche stones and the regalyë;
                • And [as ] the rose, of swetnesse and beautè,
                • Of fresshe floures, withouten any lyë;
                • Right so, in sothe, with her goodly ,
                • She passeth al in bountee and fairnesse ,125[ ]
                • Of maner ekë, and of gentilnesse.
                • For she is bothe the fairest and the beste,
                • To reken al in very sothfastnesse;
                • For every vertue is in her at reste;
                • And furthermore, to speke of stedfastnesse,130
                • She is the rotë; and of seemlinesse
                • The very mirrour; and of governaunce
                • To al example, withouten variaunce.
                • Of port benigne, and wonder glad of chere,
                • Having evermore her trewe advertence135
                • Alway to reson ; so that her desyre
                • Is brydeled ay by witte and providence;
                • Thereto, of wittë and of hy prudence
                • She is the wellë, ay devoide of pryde,
                • That unto vertue her-selven is the gyde!140[ ]
                • And over this, in her daliaunce
                • Lowly she is, discret. wyse , [and secree],
                • And goodly gladde by attemperaunce,
                • That every wight, of high and low degree,
                • Are gladde in herte with her for to be;145
                • Só that, shortly, if I shal not lye,
                • She named is ‘The Flour of Curtesye.’
                • And ay in vertue is her besy charge,155
                • Sadde and demure, and but of wordes fewe;
                • Dredful also of tonges that ben large,
                • Eschewing ay hem that listen to hewe[ ]
                • Above hir heed, hir wordes for to shewe,
                • Dishonestly to speke of any wight;160
                • She deedly hateth of hem to have a sight.
                • The herte of whom so honest is and clene,
                • And her entent so faithful and entere
                • That she ne may, for al the world , sustene
                • To suffre her eres any word to here,165
                • Of frend nor fo , neither fer ne nere,
                • Amis resowning, that hinder shulde his name;
                • And if she do, she wexeth reed for shame.
                • I am to rude her vertues everichoon
                • Cunningly [for ] to discryve and wryte;
                • For wel ye wot, colour[es] have I noon
                • Lyk her discrecioun craftely t’endyte;
                • For what I sayë , al it is to lyte.180
                • Whérfor to you thus I me excuse,
                • That I aqueynted am not with no muse!
                • By rethoryke my style to governe,
                • In her preyse and commendacioun ,
                • I am to blind , so hyly to discerne,185
                • Of her goodnesse to make discripcioun ,
                • Save thus I sayë , in conclusioun,
                • If that I shal shortly [her ] commende,
                • In her is naught that Nature can amende.
                • For good she is, lyk to Policene ,190
                • And, in fairnesse , to the quene Helayne;
                • Stedfast of herte, as was Dorigene,
                • And wyfly trouthë, if I shal not fayne:
                • In constaunce eke and faith , she may attayne
                • To Cleopatre ; and therto as †secree195
                • As was of Troye the whyte Antigone;
                • To faire Phyllis and to Hipsiphilee ,
                • For innocencë and for womanhede;205
                • For seemlinessë , unto Canacee ;
                • And over this, to speke of goodlihede,
                • She passeth alle that I can of rede;
                • For worde and dede, that she naught ne falle ,
                • Acorde in vertue, and her werkes alle .210
                • For though that Dydo , with [her ] witte sage,
                • Was in her tyme stedfast to Enee,
                • Of hastinesse yet she did outrage;
                • And so for Jason did also Medee .
                • But my lady is so avisee215
                • That, bountee and beautee bothe in her demeyne,[ ]
                • She maketh bountee alway soverayne.
                • And though that I, for very ignoraunce,225
                • Ne may discryve her vertues by and by,
                • Yet on this day, for a rémembraunce,
                • Only supported under her mercy,
                • With quaking hondë, I shal ful humbly
                • To her hynesse, my rudenes for to quyte,230
                • A litel balade here bineth endyte,
                • We may assaye for to counterfete
                • His gaye style, but it wil not be;240
                • The welle is drye, with the licour swete,
                • Bothe of Clio and of Caliopè;[ ]
                • And first of al, I wol excuse me
                • To her, that is [the] ground of goodlihede;
                • And thus I saye until hir womanhede:—245

              Balade simple.

              Lenvoy .

              • ¶ Princesse of beautee , to you I represente
              • This simple dytè, rude as in makinge,
              • Of herte and wil faithful in myn entente ,
              • Lyk as, this day, [the ] foules herde I singe.270

              Here endeth theFlourofCurtesye .

              Colophon: Floure; Curtesy.

              X.

              A BALADE; IN COMMENDATION OF OUR LADY.

              (A devoute balade by Lidegate of Bury, made at the reverence of oure lady, Qwene of mercy.—A.)

              From Th.; collated with A. (Ashmole 59); and Sl. (Sloane 1212).

              XI.

              TO MY SOVERAIN LADY.

              From Th. (Thynne, ed. 1532); I note rejected spellings.

                • For if I coude before thyn excellence[ ]
                • Singen in love, I wolde, what I fele,
                • And ever standen, lady, in thy presence,10
                • To shewe in open how I love you wele;
                • And sith, although your herte be mad of stele,
                • To you, withoute any disseveraunce ,
                • Jay en voustoutema fiaunce.[ ]
                • Wher might I love ever better besette15
                • Than in this lilie, lyking to beholde?
                • The lace of love, the bond so wel thou knette ,
                • That I may see thee or myn herte colde,
                • And or I passe out of my dayes olde,
                • Tofore singing evermore utterly—20
                • ‘Your eyën two wol slee me sodainly.’[ ]
                • For love I langour, blissed be such seknesse ,
                • Sithit is for you, my hertely suffisaunce;
                • I can not elles saye , in my distresse,
                • So fair oon hath myn herte in governaunce;25
                • And after that I †ginne on esperaunce[ ]
                • With feble entune, though it thyn herte perce,
                • Yet for thy sake this lettre I do reherce.
                • God wot , on musike I can not, but I gesse,
                • (Alas! why so?) that I might say or singe,30
                • So love I you, myn own soverain maistresse ,
                • And ever shal, withouten départinge.
                • Mirrour of beautè, for you out shuld I ringe,
                • In rémembraunce eke of your eyen clere,
                • Thus fer from you, my soverain lady dere!35
                • So wolde god your love wold me slo,
                • Sith , for your sake, I singe day by day;
                • Herte, why nilt thou [never] breke a-two,
                • Sith with my lady dwellen I ne may?
                • Thus many a roundel and many a virelay40
                • In fresshe Englisshe, whan I me layser finde,
                • I do recorde, on you to have minde!
                • What marveyle is, though I in payne be?50
                • I am departed from you, my soveraine;
                • Fortune, alas! dont vient ladestenee ,
                • That in no wyse I can ne may attayne
                • To see the beautè of your eyën twayne.
                • Wherfore I say, for tristesse doth me grame,55
                • Tant me faitmaldepartir de ma dame![ ]
                • Why nere my wisshing brought to suche esploit
                • That I might say, for joye of your presence,
                • Ore a mon cuer ce quil veuilloit,[ ]
                • Ore a mon cuer the highest excellence60
                • That ever had wight;’ and sith myn advertence
                • Is in you, reweth on my paynes smerte,
                • I am so sore wounded to the herte.
                • To live wel mery, two lovers were y-fere,
                • So may I say withouten any blame;65
                • If any man [per cas ] to wilde were,
                • I coude him [sonë ] teche to be tame;
                • Let him go love , and see wher it be game!
                • For I am brydled unto sobernesse
                • For her, that is of women cheef princesse.70
                • But ever, whan thought shulde my herte embrace,
                • Than unto me is beste remedye ,
                • Whan I loke on your goodly fresshe face;
                • So mery a mirrour coude I never espye ;
                • And, if I coude, I wolde it magnifye.75
                • For never non was [here ] so faire y-founde,
                • To reken hem al, and also Rosamounde.
                • And fynally, with mouthe and wil present
                • Of double eye, withoute repentaunce,
                • Myn herte I yeve you, lady, in this entent,80
                • That ye shal hoolly therof have governaunce;
                • Taking my leve with hertes obeysaunce,
                • Salve, regina!’ singing laste of al,
                • To be our helpe, whan we to thee cal!
                • Al our lovë is but ydelnesse85
                • Save your aloon ; who might therto attayne?
                • Who-so wol have a name of gentillesse,
                • I counsayle him in love that he not fayne.
                • Thou swete lady! refut in every payne,
                • Whos [pitous] mercy most to me avayleth90
                • To gye by grace, whan that fortune fayleth.
                • Nought may be told , withouten any fable,
                • Your high renome, your womanly beautè;
                • Your governaunce, to al worship able,
                • Putteth every herte in ese in his degree.95
                • O violet, Oflourdesiree,
                • Sith I am for you so amorous,
                • Estreynezmoy, [lady ,] de cuer joyous![ ]
                • With fervent herte my brest hath broste on fyre;
                • L’ardant espoir que mon cuer poynt, est mort,100[ ]
                • D’avoir l’amour de celle que je desyre,
                • I mene you, swete, most plesaunt of port ,
                • Et jesaibien que ceo n’est pas mon tort[ ]
                • That for you singe, so as I may, for mone
                • For your departing; alone I live, alone.105
                • Though I mighte , I wolde non other chese;
                • In your servyce, I wolde be founden sad ;[ ]
                • Therfore I love no labour that ye lese,
                • Whan, in longing, sorest ye be stad ;
                • Loke up, ye lovers [alle ], and be right glad110
                • Ayeines sëynt Valentynes day,
                • For I have chose that never forsake I may!

              Explicit.

              XII.

              BALLAD OF GOOD COUNSEL.

              From Th. (Thynne’s edition, 1532); collated with Ff. (MS. Ff. 1. 6, Camb. Univ. Library). Another copy in H. (Harl. 2251).

                • For in thy port or in thyn apparayle
                • If thou be clad or honestly be-seyn ,
                • Anon the people, of malice, wol nat fayle,10
                • Without advyce or reson, for to sayn
                • That thyn array is mad and wrought in vayn;
                • What! suffre hem spekë!—and trust right wel this,
                • A wikked tonge wol alway deme amis.
                • Thou wilt to kinges be equipolent .15
                • With gretë lordes even and peregal ;
                • And, if thou be to-torn and al to-rent,
                • Than wol they say, and jangle over-al,
                • Thou art a slogard, that never thryvë shal;
                • Yet suffre hem spekë!—and trust right wel this,20
                • A wikked tonge wol alway deme amis.
                • And if it so be that , of parfitnesse,
                • Thou hast avowed to live in chastitee,
                • Thán wol folk of thy persone expresse
                • Say thou art impotent t’engendre in thy degree;
                • And thus, whether thou be chast or deslavee ,40
                • Suffre hem spekë—and trust right wel this,
                • A wikked tonge wel alway deme amis.
                • And if that thou be fat or corpulent,
                • Than wol they say that thou art a glotoun,
                • A devourour , or ellës vinolent;45[ ]
                • If thou be lene or megre of fassioun,
                • Cal thee a nigard, in hir opinioun;
                • Yet suffre hem spekë—and trust right wel this,
                • A wikked tonge wol alway deme amis.
                • If thou be richë, som wol yeve thee laud ,50
                • And say , it cometh of prudent governaunce;
                • And som wol sayen, that it cometh of fraud,
                • Outher by sleight, or by fals chevisaunce;
                • To say the worst, folk have so gret plesaunce;
                • Yet suffre hem sayë —and trust right wel this,55
                • A wikked tonge wol alway deme amis.
                • If thou be sad or sobre of countenaunce,
                • Men wol say—thou thinkest som tresoun ;
                • And if [that ] thou be glad of deliaunce,
                • Men wol deme itdissolucioun ,60
                • And calle thy fair speche, adulacioun;
                • Yet let hem spekë—and trust right wel this,
                • A wikked tonge wol alway deme amis.
                • Who that is holy by perfeccioun,
                • Men, of malyce, wol calle him ipocryte;65
                • And who is mery, of clene entencioun,
                • Men say, in ryot he doth him delyte;
                • Som mourne in blak; som laughe in clothes whyte;
                • What! suffre them spekë —and trust right wel this,
                • A wikked tonge wol alway deme amis.70
                • Honest array, men deme, †is pompe and pryde,[ ][ ]
                • And who goth poore, men calle him a wastour ;
                • And who goth [mene ], men marke him on every syde,[ ]
                • And saye that he is a spye or a gylour;
                • Who wasteth , men seyn [that ] he hath tresour;75
                • Wherfore conclude , and trust [right ] wel this,
                • A wikked tonge wil alway deme amis.
                • For though a man were al-so pacient85
                • As was David, through his humilitee,[ ]
                • Or with Salamon in wysdom as prudent,
                • Or in knighthode egal with Josuë,
                • Or manly proved as Judas Machabee,
                • Yet, for al that—trust right wel this,90
                • A wicked tonge wol alway deme amis .
                • And though a man of high or low degree
                • Of Tullius hadde the sugred eloquence,100
                • Or of Senek the greet moralitee,
                • Or of Catoun the foresight or prudence ,
                • Conquest of Charles, Arthurs magnificence,
                • Yet, for al that—trust right wel this,
                • A wikked tonge wol alway deme amis.[ ]105
                • Touching of women the parfit innocence,[ ]
                • Thogh they had ofHestre the mekenes,
                • Or of Griseldes [the] humble pacience,
                • Or of Judith the proved stablenes,
                • Or Policenes virginal clennes,110[ ]
                • Yit dar I say and truste right wel this,
                • A wikked tonge wol alway deme amis.
                • Most noble princes , cherisshers of vertue,
                • Remembreth you of high discrecioun,
                • The first vertue, most plesing to Jesu,
                • (By the wryting and sentence of Catoun),130[ ]
                • Is a good tonge, in his opinioun;
                • Chastyse the révers , and of wysdom do this,
                • Withdraw your hering from al that deme amis.

              XIII.

              BEWARE OF DOUBLENESS.

              (Balade made by Lydgate.)

                • THIS world is ful of variaunce
                • In every thing, who taketh hede,
                • That faith and trust, and al constaunce,
                • Exyled ben, this is no drede;
                • And, save only in womanhede,5
                • I can [nat ] see no sikernesse;
                • But for al that, yet, as I rede,
                • Be-war alway of doublenesse.
                • Also these fresshe somer-floures
                • Whyte and rede, blewe and grene,10
                • Ben sodainly, with winter-shoures,
                • Mad feinte and fade, withoute wene;
                • That trust is non, as ye may seen ,
                • In no-thing, nor no stedfastnesse,
                • Except in women, thus I mene;15
                • Yet ay be-war of doublenesse.
                • The croked mone, this is no tale,
                • Som whyle is shene and bright of hewe,
                • And after that ful derk and pale,
                • And every moneth chaungeth newe;20
                • That, who the verray sothe knewe,
                • Al thing is bilt on brotelnesse,
                • Save that these women ay be trewe;
                • Yet ay be-war of doublenesse.
                • The lusty fresshe somers day,25
                • And Phebus with his bemes clere,
                • Towardes night, they drawe away,
                • And no lenger liste appere;
                • That , in this present lyf now here
                • Nothing abit in his fairnesse,30[ ]
                • Save women ay be founde intere
                • And devoid of doublenesse.[ ]
                • The see eke, with his sterne wawes,
                • Ech day floweth newe again,
                • And, by concours of his lawes,35
                • The ebbe foloweth , in certain ;
                • After gret drought ther comth a rain,
                • That farewel here al stabelnesse,
                • Save that women be hole and plain;
                • Yet ay be-war of doublenesse.40
                • Fortunes wheel goth round aboute
                • A thousand tymes, day and night:
                • Whos cours standeth ever in doute
                • For to transmew; she is so light.
                • For which adverteth in your sight45
                • Th’untrust of worldly fikelnesse,
                • Save women, which of kindly right
                • Ne have no tache of doublenesse.
                • What man may the wind restraine
                • Or holde a snake by the tail,50
                • Or a sliper eel constraine[ ]
                • That it nil voide, withouten fail;
                • Or who can dryve so a nail
                • To make sure new-fangelnesse,
                • Save women, that can gye hir sail55[ ]
                • To rowe hir boot with doublenesse.
                • At every haven they can aryve
                • Wher-as they wote is good passage;
                • Of innocence, they can not stryve
                • With wawes nor no rokkes rage;60
                • So happy is hir lodemanage,
                • With nelde and stoon hir cours to dresse,
                • That Salamon was not so sage
                • To find in hem no doublenesse.
                • Therfor who-so hem accuse65
                • Of any double entencioun,
                • To speke, rowne , other to muse,
                • To pinche at hir condicioun;
                • Al is but fals collusioun,
                • I dar right wel the sothe expresse;70
                • They have no better proteccioun
                • But shroude hem under doublenesse.
                • So wel fortúned is hir chaunce[ ]
                • The dys to turnen up-so-doun,
                • With sys and sink they can avaunce,75
                • And than, by revolucioun,
                • They sette a fel conclusioun
                • Of ambes as , in sothfastnesse;
                • Though clerkes make mencioun
                • Hir kind is fret with doublenesse.80
                • Sampsoun had experience
                • That women were ful trewe founde ,
                • Whan Dalida, of innocence ,
                • With sheres gan his heer to rounde;
                • To speke also of Rosamounde85
                • And Cleopatras feithfulnesse,
                • The stories plainly wil confounde
                • Men that apeche hir doublenesse.
                • Sengle thing ne is not preised,
                • Nor oo-fold is of no renoun;90
                • In balaunce whan they be peised,
                • For lakke of weght they be bore doun;
                • And for this cause of just resoun,
                • These women alle, of rightwisnesse,
                • Of chois and free eleccioun95
                • Most love eschaunge and doublenesse .

              Lenvoy.

              • O ye women, which been enclyned,
              • By influence of your nature,
              • To been as pure as gold y-fyned
              • In your trouth for to endure ,100
              • Arm your-self in strong armure
              • Lest men assaile your sikernesse:
              • Set on your brest, your-self t’assure ,
              • A mighty sheld of doublenesse.

              XIV.

              A BALADE: WARNING MEN TO BEWARE OF DECEITFUL WOMEN.

              From Trin. (Trin. Coll. Cam. R. 3. 19), printed in Ed. (ed. 1561); T. (Trin. Coll. O. 9. 38); H. (Harl. 2251).

                • LOKE wel aboute , ye that lovers be;
                • Lat nat your lustes lede you to dotage;
                • Be nat enamoured on al thing that ye see .
                • Sampson the fort, and Salamon the sage
                • Deceived were, for al hir gret corage;5
                • Men deme hit is right as they see at y;
                • Bewar therfore; the blinde et many a fly.[ ]
                • I mene, in women , for al hir cheres queinte ,
                • Trust nat to moche; hir trouthë is but geson ;
                • The fairest outward ful wel can they peinte ,10
                • Hir stedfastnes endureth but a seson;
                • For they feyn frendlines and worchen treson.
                • And for they be chaungeáble naturally,
                • Bewar therfore; the blinde et many a fly.
                • Though al the world do his besy cure15
                • To make women stonde in stablenes ,
                • Hit may nat be, hit is agayn nature;
                • The world is do whan they lak doublenes ;
                • For they can laughe and love nat ; this is expres .[ ]
                • To trust in hem, hit is but fantasy;20
                • Bewar therfore; the blind et many a fly.
                • What wight on-lyve trusteth in hir cheres
                • Shal haue at last his guerdon and his mede;
                • They can shave nerer then rasóurs or sheres;
                • Al is nat gold that shyneth ! Men, take hede;[ ]25
                • Hir galle is hid under a sugred wede.[ ]
                • Hit is ful hard hir fantasy t’aspy ;
                • Bewar therfore; the blinde et many a fly.
                • Women, of kinde, have condicions three ;[ ]
                • The first is, that they be fulle of deceit;30
                • To spinne also hit is hir propertee ;
                • And women have a wonderful conceit ,
                • They wepen ofte, and al is but a sleight ,
                • And whan they list, the tere is in the y;
                • Bewar therfore; the blinde et many a fly.35
                • What thing than eyr is lighter and meveable ?[ ]
                • The light, men say, that passeth in a throw;
                • Al if the light be nat so variable
                • As is the wind that every wey [can] blow ;
                • And yet , of reson, som men deme and trow40
                • Women be lightest of hir company;
                • Bewar therfore; the blind et many a fly.

              XV.

              THREE SAYINGS.

              A. From Stowe (ed. 1561).

              B. From the same.

              C. From the same.

                • (A). A SAYING OF DAN JOHN.
                • THER beth four thinges that maketh a man a fool ,
                • Hónour first putteth him in outrage,
                • And alder-next solitarie and sool ;
                • The second is unweldy croked age;
                • Women also bring men in dotage;5
                • And mighty wyne, in many dyvers wyse,
                • Distempreth folk which [that] ben holden wyse.
                • (B). YET OF THE SAME.
                • Therbeth four thinges causing gret folye,
                • Honour first, and [than] unweldy age;
                • Women and wyne, I dar eek specifye ,
                • Make wyse men [to ] fallen in dotage;
                • Wherfore, by counseil of philosophers sage,5
                • In gret honour, lerne this of me,
                • With thyn estat have [eek ] humilitee.

              XVI.

              LA BELLE DAME SANS MERCY.

              TRANSLATED OUT OF FRENCH BY SIR RICHARD ROS.

              From Th. (Thynne, ed. 1532); collated with F. (Fairfax 16); and H. (Harl. 372). Also in Ff. (Camb. Univ. Lib. Ff. 1. 6). Bad spellings of Th. are corrected by the MSS. Title.Th.H. La . . mercy; F. Balade de la Bele Dame sanz mercy. H.adds—Translatid . . Ros.

                • I cast my clothes on, and went my way,
                • This foresayd charge having in rémembraunce,
                • Til I cam to a lusty green valey
                • Ful of floures, to see, a gret plesaunce;25
                • And so bolded , with their benygn suffraunce
                • That rede this book , touching this sayd matere,
                • Thus I began , if it plese you to here.
                • NAT long ago, ryding an esy paas,
                • I fel in thought, of joy ful desperate30
                • With greet disese and payne, so that I was
                • Of al lovers the most unfortunate,
                • Sith by his dart most cruel, ful of hate,
                • The deeth hath take my lady and maistresse,
                • And left me sole, thus discomfit and mate,35
                • Sore languisshing, and in way of distresse.
                • Than sayd I thus, ‘it falleth me to cesse
                • Eyther to ryme or ditees for to make,
                • And I, surely, to make a ful promesse
                • To laugh no more, but wepe in clothes blake.40
                • My joyful tyme, alas! now is it slake,
                • For in my-self I fele no maner ese ;
                • Let it be written, such fortune I take,
                • Which neither me, nor non other doth plese.
                • If it were so, my wil or myn entent45[ ]
                • Constrayned were a joyful thing to wryte,
                • Myn pen coud never have knowlege what it ment;
                • To speke therof my tonge hath no delyte.
                • And with my mouth if I laugh moche or lyte,
                • Myn eyen shold make a countenaunce untrewe;50
                • My hert also wold have therof despyte,
                • The weping teres have so large issewe.
                • These seke lovers, I leve that to hem longes,[ ]
                • Which lede their lyf in hope of alegeaunce,
                • That is to say, to make balades and songes,55
                • Every of hem, as they fele their grevaunce.
                • For she that was my joy and my plesaunce,
                • Whos soule I pray god of his mercy save,
                • She hath my wil, myn hertes ordinaunce,
                • Which lyeth here, within this tombe y-grave .60
                • Fro this tyme forth, tyme is to hold my pees;
                • It werieth me this mater for to trete;
                • Let other lovers put hem-self in prees;
                • Their seson is, my tyme is now forgete.
                • Fortune by strength the forcerhath unshet65
                • Wherin was sperd al my worldly richesse,
                • And al the goodes which that I have gete
                • In my best tyme of youthe and lustinesse.
                • Love hath me kept under his governaunce;
                • If I misdid, god graunt me forgifnesse!70
                • If I did wel, yet felte I no plesaunce;
                • It caused neither joy nor hevinesse.
                • For whan she dyed, that was my good maistresse,
                • Al my welfare than made the same purchas;
                • The deeth hath set my boundes , of witnes,75
                • Which for no-thing myn hert shal never pas.’
                • In this gret thought , sore troubled in my mynde,
                • Aloon thus rood I al the morow-tyde,
                • Til at the last it happed me to fynde
                • The place wherin I cast me to abyde80
                • Whan that I had no further for to ryde.
                • And as I went my logging to purvey,
                • Right sone I herde, but litel me besyde,
                • In a gardeyn , wher minstrels gan to play.
                • With that anon I went me bakker-more;85
                • My-self and I, me thought, we were y-now;
                • But twayn that were my frendes here-before
                • Had me espyed, and yet I wot nat how.
                • They come for me; awayward I me drow,
                • Somwhat by force, somwhat by their request,90
                • That in no wyse I coud my-self rescow,
                • But nede I must come in, and see the feest.
                • At my coming, the ladies everichoon
                • Bad me welcome, god wot, right gentilly,
                • And made me chere, everich by oon and oon ,95
                • A gret del better than I was worthy;
                • And, of their grace, shewed me gret curtesy
                • With good disport, bicause I shuld nat mourne.
                • That day I bood stille in their company,
                • Which was to me a gracious sojourne.100
                • The bordes were spred in right litel space;
                • The ladies sat, ech as hem semed best.
                • Were non that did servyce within that place[ ]
                • But chosen men, right of the goodliest:
                • And som ther were, peravénturemost fresshest,105
                • That sawe their juges, sitting ful demure,
                • Without semblaunt either to most or lest,
                • Notwithstanding they had hem under cure.
                • Among al other, oon I gan espy
                • Which in gret thought ful often com and went110
                • As man that had ben ravished utterly,
                • In his langage nat gretly diligent;
                • His countenaunce he kept with greet tourment,
                • But his desyr fer passed his resoun;
                • For ever his eye went after his entent115
                • Ful many a tyme, whan it was no sesoun.
                • To make good chere, right sore him-self he payned,
                • And outwardly he fayned greet gladnesse;
                • To singe also by force he was constrayned
                • For no plesaunce, but very shamfastnesse;120
                • For the complaynt of his most hevinesse
                • Com to his voice alwey without request,
                • Lyk as the sowne of birdes doth expresse
                • Whan they sing loude, in frith or in forest.
                • Other ther were, that served in the hal,125
                • But non lyk him, as after myn advyse;
                • For he was pale, and somwhat lene with-al;
                • His speche also trembled in fereful wyse;
                • And ever aloon, but when he did servyse.
                • Al blak he ware, and no devyce but playn.130
                • Me thought by him, as my wit coud suffyse,
                • His hert was no-thing in his own demeyn.
                • To feste hem al he did his diligence,
                • And wel he couth , right as it semed me.
                • But evermore, whan he was in presence,135
                • His chere was don; it wold non other be.
                • His scole-maister had suche auctoritè
                • That, al the whyle he